Coming to a decision

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ripshaw
Posts: 32
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:09 pm

Coming to a decision

Post by ripshaw »

As he quietly stalks through the forest below his beloved Redwood, the Ranger contemplates the events of the last few weeks. More than 150 years he spent in the service of chivalry and by extension, the temple of light. Things were never the same after Cassandras spirit faded from the lands and when the lady of Light took over the temple, it fit him just fine to stay on and help. But worship is a tough thing to ask of any being, especially one as old as he. As the soul ages, it changes and One can never know if their beliefs will remain, with the passing of enough time. Once you learn the secret of faith, its very hard to worship any one god whole heartedly.

Sniffing at the air, he crouches low behind a bush. Listening intently for a moment for the soft breathing and the light thumps of hoof beats on the damp earth. He smiles to himself at the thrill he feels to be hunting again. Slowing his breathing, he closes his eyes and thinks "I am silence". As he waits for his moment, his mind wanders back to faith.. Gods are thus because of the worship of the people. Power manifested through devotion, deeds, or more simply the prayers of countless mortal souls. Yet The Ranger had watched gods come and go throughout his life. Spring to life out of the heroic deeds of mortal men who had inspired the awe of those around them in one moment.. and then fade away into the empty spaces of time. Yet he remained. Always, he remained.

Opening his eyes, he slowly pulls the bush he is crouched behind aside. Not 40 feet from his position is a beautiful, full grown buck. 10 points he counts as he lets the bush settle back into its place. Pulling his bow off over his shoulder he checks the string. Nocking an arrow, Rip quickly leans out from behind his cover and lets loose. In one smooth motion he leans back, pulls his bow over his head onto his shoulder and unsheaths his Stag knife. Listening again for the grunting of the buck and the staggering last steps it takes before the shock fades, along with its life. "Four, three, two.." thump.

Rising to his feet, he comes out of cover and moves slowly towards his prey. The ranger can already see the buck is dead, arrow jutting from its breast, just below the front shoulder. Moving in quickly now, he begins to gut his kill. In the monotonous motions of what hes done countless times over his life, he continues his path of thought. If a mans belief in a being gives it strength, then what of that mans belief in himself? Obviously, one mans belief could not ever compare to the power of thousands of devoted followers.. But what if? what if that belief was enough to sustain him? Keep him strong, long after soo many others have turned to dust? Musing on this, the ranger swiftly cleans the carcass and buries the unneeded parts of his buck. Finishing the task, he then cleans his hands and knife on the grass, wraps the carcass in an old cloak and wipes the sweat from his brow.

Leaning down, he heaves the now lightened burden of his kill over his shoulders. As he walks, he decides he would put his theory to the test. Rip was now free of temple and the burdens of obedience. On the walk back through the forest, he becomes resigned to go back to his beginning. Start anew. For ages the ranger had been in the service of others. War, Sea, Nature, chivalry and most recently Light.. For the time being, he would tempt fate and he would fight for himself. A cause of his choosing. It has been too long since he has used his skills for the things he deemed to be worthy of attention. A fascinating thought, which made him smile. Until of course he remembered what it was he was doing.

Finding himself on the street marked in his notes, he comes to a small house in the shadow of the wall of Stone keep. The 6th and final house on his list. Knocking softly on the door he arranges his burden on his shoulders. After a moment, the door opens slightly and one weary eye peers out through the crack. "yes?" a womans voice asks, one that sounds miserable.. as if she had been crying. "Maam.." the ranger says with the utmost respect. "My name is Ripshaw.. I am sorry to hear about the fate of your husband. A brave man from what I hear. I hope that he is returned to you safely and unhurt." he finishes, eyes low. With his words, the womans voice breaks and she moans "thank you, sir." Rip continues on before she can close the door. "I was hoping you would accept a token of my personal gratitude? I have here a fresh buck, taken just an hour ago. It should be enough meat to feed you and yours for a time."

Opening the door abit more, the woman looks at him disbelieving. "I cannot pay for that, sir." she says. Shaking his head, the ranger lifts the meat over his head and rests it on the ground. Rising, he fishes through his pocket and produces a leather pouch. Placing it atop the buck, he steps back. "The pouch has coins in it, to pay for dressing and cutting the meat. I truly hope it helps." he says knowing full well that the gold in that pouch will sustain her and her family for years to come. As she stands there blinking, Ripshaw turns on his heel and begins to walk away. As he walks, his spirit is lifted. It never hurts to be kind to others. His first step towards following his own heartand he had to admit, it really did feel good. Pulling his hood up over his head, the ranger turns a corner and fades from view. His first steps taken into his unknown future.
ripshaw
Posts: 32
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:09 pm

Re: Coming to a decision

Post by ripshaw »

A small fire cuts through the darkness of Dirmloth forest. Leaning back against a fallen tree, the ranger warms his hands against the chill of the night air. Its been more than a week since he helped the families of Stone Keep and as he promised himself, he went straight back to where it all started. Ripshaw went home. Sadly, the Redwood was still all too quiet; but the light in the window of sylvanna's office could still be seen. Their meeting was a warm one, as always. Hugs all around, accompanied by laughter and even a rib prod or two and it was as if he had never even left. Such was his relationship to the Rangers GM. One true constant throughout the length of his entire life. She was in that office centuries ago, when he first ascended into the legendary tree and here all these years later.. Sylvie still watched over the guild. Elven like him, she still had all the good looks of when she was a young girl. She wore her smile easily for those who earned it, Yet crossing her would be a huge mistake. His respect for her was beyond measure and because of her, the guild was always home to him.

A pop in the fire brings his attention back to the present. Rip picks up the stick he left aside for stoking his fire and gives it a few quick pokes for good measure. laying down the stick, he then picks up his kabob style arrangement of meats he put together and sets them between two piles of rocks on either side of the fire to cook. Immediately the smell brings water to his mouth, and a grumble from his stomach. He'd been on the move almost constantly since reaching his decision. Paying up on a few old favors owed and doing a few scouting missions for the keep kept his mind occupied for the majority of the days. Although each night spent alone, his restless mind would drive him beyond crazy. So much change in so little time had the ranger on edge. Lord Croft and Bikon of Stone Keep on the verge of war had everyone else on edge as well, so peace unfortunately could only be enjoyed in these moments or when he slept.

A sizzling, then a roar of flame announced to Rip that his meat was almost done. Absently he went about adjusting the kabobs and his mind played over his findings from the day. Upon reporting for duty back at the Redwood, Sylvanna immediately sent him out into the forest to do patrols. Preferring to sleep outdoors, it didnt take very much convincing. So for the last 3 nights the ranger spent scouting and hunting throughout the forest of his childhood. He had forgotten how big it was and he enjoyed a suprise or two. Giants cave was still where it has always been, the passing of time altering only the appearance of the entrance. Trolls a plenty, but never too many at once and only usually doing some hunting of their own. All is as it should be, until..

He started noticing some oddities in the north eastern section. Up by Goldcroft there were large patches of trampled ground. He noticed areas where fires had been set for cooking. He was accustomed to finding camps, but these fires were larger and in numbers. Nothing approaching the numbers of an army, but Rip knew his business. They were the tracks made by groups of men wearing mostly military issue boots, but also mixed in with anything between bare footprints to soft soled leather sandles. Someone or more than 1 someone had been using the forest area for moving groups of people around. Very little damage had been done to the forest outside the normal. A tree here or there chopped down for wood, a carcass or two near old doused fires left from when they were cleaned and even some large grassy areas stomped down where bodies of men trod thru. All things noteworthy of mention in his report to sylvanna.

Ripshaw had offered his service to Stone Keep after the first caravan was sacked, but he had yet to receive any word. He mused on whether or not Prae would make the rangers aware he, Bikon or Aoveron were using the forest for such maneuvers of their army.. He liked the rogue and got along with him just fine. Yet the forest has always been considered public domain and unless your a ranger of the Redwood, you didnt care enough to question it. Licking the juices off his fingers, he settled on speaking to Praetorian about the matter. Either way, it would be useful to him to know of what he found.

Removing the slightly charred bits of meat from the fire, Rip places them on an old leather cloth to cool. Rubbing his hands on his pant leggings, he magically produces some cherry brandy from deori knows where. Placing that beside the meat, he settles back down in his spot, back against the tree. Tomorrow he will return to the guild and give sylvie his report. Then he would set out in search of the Rogue and ask him about what he found. Respect would be given all around, but Rip would make sure everyone knew that Dirmloth forest was no longer unguarded, or unprotected. There is a Ranger out there now and he is always watching. Its high time some of the old ways were brought back. It would start here, and beware any who have grown complacent. Humming softly to himself, Ripshaw feels the peace hes wanted for a very long time.
ripshaw
Posts: 32
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:09 pm

Re: Coming to a decision

Post by ripshaw »

"Wake up! Move along vagrant!"

A Goldcroft guard breaks the quiet of the morning and throws a hard boot into the ribs of a man sleeping one off in the large square outside the castle. Obviously in pain, the sleeping man stirs and tries to get his bearings. Thud! Another sharp kick to the ribs as the man slowly tries to comply. "I said move along! you useless bum" the guard says again. Gritting his teeth, Ripshaw remains patient as he pretends to sleep a few feet away. As the man gains his feet and begins to shuffle away, the guard throws in one last kick for good measure forcing the already struggling man to his knees. Regaining his feet quicker this time, he half runs half limps off down the street away from the castle. Listening to the footsteps of the guard approaching, the ranger turns his body slightly in anticipation of what he knew was coming.

"Wake up fool! the guards voice comes again, standing directly over Ripshaw. A movement and a foot lashes out to kick. Already prepared he moves his arm in to block the kick from hitting him in the ribs. Grunting with exaggerated pain, the ranger rolls up to his feet. Wobbling for effect, he moves closer to the guard. "Please sir? a coin for a lowly bum like me?" Rip says as he falls into the guards arms. "Get off me you oaf!" the guard exclaims as he moves to push the apparently drunken elf suddenly pressed up against him. Burping into the face of the guard, the ranger slovenly gets in closer to the man. "please sir?" he slurs again. "I said get off of me you swine" replies the guard, this time swinging a fist towards the head of the disgusting drunk. Waiting for the blow, Rip raises his shoulder just in time to deflect the blow from hitting him in the face. Backing off, he raises his hands in plea. "ok, ok.. Im going." he says as he pulls away.

As he stumbles down the street away from the castle the ranger hears the guard complaining behind him. Satisfied with the outcome of the venture, Ripshaw continues on down the road with practiced drunkeness. Once out of sight of the guard, the stumbling becomes normal walking. The dirty hood is tossed off his head and into the trash in a nearby alley. Fishing around in his pocket, Ripshaw pulls out a ring of keys he had lifted off the guard. A dangerous gamble it was, but it needed to be done. Ever since this whole business started, the Ranger had become more and more uneasy with the situation between Stone Keep and Goldcroft. Something nagged at the back of his mind and before he came forward with any of it, he needed some solid proof.

Going over the information of the last day and night of his stakeout of the castle, nothing worked to remove the apprehension. Normal messenger traffic. Noone was hurrying around with any urgency. Forges in the city were operating at normal routine. Practice yards were occupied, but with the regular amount of soldiers. Guards in the city were not on high alert. Citizens were not in fear, or moving around nervously. In fact, everything in the city operated as if their world was not about to be at war. All that was left was the castle to check. Jingling the keys in his hands, he now had what he needed to get a closer look. He owed it to his friends. To those he respected. He really hoped to find the answers, one way or the other. He could not with good conscience let two cities of innocent folks go to war over something that was not quite lining up.

Moving quicker, Ripshaw angles toward an open bar which he knew served breakfast. Noticing the man throwing up at the side of the building, the ranger recognizes him as the man the guard put the boots to just before him. Walking up behind the man, Rip pulls out the other item he took off the guard. A small leather coin purse, with a decent weight to it. "you there." Rip says to the mans back. "Im going, im going" the man replies as he wipes his mouth. Wobbling abit he starts to move along. Ripshaw gently grabs the man by the arm and turns him toward himself. A overpowering stench of whiskey hits the ranger, and he blinks and turns his head. "easy now, hows about we get some breakfast?" he says as he helps to steady the man. Jingling the purse by the strings in the mans face, he smiles. "courtesy of the guard. He sends his apologies."
Eyeing the bag, the drunk slowly reaches his hand up to take it. "your kiddin?" the man asks. Shaking his head, Rip lets go of the mans arm and moves to enter the building.

As he steps into the doorway, the man takes off down the alleyway. Chuckling, Ripshaw lets him go. He figured that the man earned the coins by taking the guards shots. Smiling again to himself, the ranger enters the building and sits down at the nearest table to the door. Lots of work to do in the coming days. He had to find answers before the war got into full swing. He knew that noone would go on his hunch alone, and he vowed to get to the bottom of this. Taking risks like stealing the castle keys, and eventually sneaking around in crofts home, he hopes that Sylvanna will understand and not be too angry. Safeguard the helpless Cassandra had always said to him. Its the never ending job of those with strength. Nodding solemnly to himself, the Ranger throws up his arm to signal the waitress.
ripshaw
Posts: 32
Joined: Sat Apr 26, 2014 2:09 pm

Re: Coming to a decision

Post by ripshaw »

For the first time in as long as he can remember, Ripshaw walked away. Even though his intuition was telling him something was fishy with the whole Croft and Keep situation, noone took what he was saying very seriously. Without any solid evidence to the contrary, he really had no other choices. It seemed that no matter what, the two cities were going to war anyway. So with great trepidation, he had dropped the matter completely. What was the point anyway? Regardless of what he thought he could do, it was not his job to decide the fate of others. For so long he had followed his gut in matters of the innocent; tried to do the right thing. It had always been his way and that of his friends. As the times changed, he tried desperately to carry the torch of the past. Yet Cassandra was still gone and he was no longer a member of the temple of Light. As all things eventually must do, that part of his life had ended. As hard as he thrashed against it, it was only tearing him apart emotionally and left him feeling a relic and unfit for the here and now. More severly, it was pushing him further into depression and what remaining friends he had, away from him.

Lucky are those who have earned friends. One magnanimous upside to living for centuries is the fact that he had made hundreds of friends throughout his life. His father had always taught him as a boy that if you show respect to those around you, help freely when it is needed and always be prepared to carry the burdens of others; then a man will undoubtedly be rich in friendship. Turns out he was right. In this case, that currency is what saved the rangers life. Sylvanna had urged him to do what made him happy. She had convinced him he deserved it for how much hes done for others over the years. Heimdall who was once a dwarf, and now a human; had lectured to him about having to change ourselves repeatedly, in order to adjust to the future. Most importantly, Fearecia had lifted the weight from off his shoulders. She had cared enough to listen and in the end had convinced him that it was ok to lay down the weight of the past. That it was not his burden to carry. Obligation had made him feel otherwise, but the dragon had made him realize that carrying it with him forever would never change it. Gone was gone.

Let it be known, Ripshaw was saved by friendship. They had awaken him from a long nightmare and given him back his purpose. Reborn, finally. To find that he didnt have anything at all to do. Destiny had always provided him with work. Being good had always had evil to contend with. Yet now, being free of those oaths and credos he wasnt exactly sure where to focus his attention. In the past he had followed his guts to wherever he was needed. Some other worldly power that either landed him exactly where he was supposed to be, or urged him along like a arrow towards the target. It had fascinated him at times and while he found himself adrift he sought out answers within the temple of fate. With his talks with other members, he had begun to see things in a slightly different light. With each perspective he received from those who had been studying this for extensive amounts of time, it only unlocked more questions. Are we led, or do we choose? Or is it a combination of both? Such a fascinating line of thought, which he was quickly becoming hungry to pursue. With all this change going on in his life, he felt vibrant and renewed of strength. Felt as though he was closer to making a decision for his future. Then, out of the blue; he met Lamaenor, the Ambassador to devardec. Fate had stepped in once again on his behalf and gave him a path to follow.

THUMP! A large stack of books hits the table he is seated at in the Silver Rock Library. It startles him from his thoughts and turns the heads of a few patrons seated in the room. A elvish girl with ink spots on her shirt and a lock of golden hair splayed across her face hurriedly apologizes. Collecting himself he places the book he was reading on the table and takes his feet off the chair opposite him. Standing he smiles down at her, unable to ignore her beauty. "Your requested books, Sir." she says in the sweetest voice, slightly out of breath from exertion. "All but two were found here." she finishes. "My thanks lass and much appreciated. Is it possible to have them shifted to a private room?" the ranger asks. "I am thinking I will be here awhile and Id rather continue at leisure." Nodding up at Rip she assures him that it will be done. "My, My where has the day gone?" he mutters as he stretches. "i dear say I am hungry. How about you Lass, would you care to grab a bite with a lowly woodsman?" he asks, flashing her his most winning smile. Watching her blush, he smiles all the more. "well, Sure.. I guess that would be fine." she stammers. "Wonderful! I count myself lucky for the company of someone so lovely." Rip says moving around the table to leave. Thinking twice, he reaches down and closes "The art of Navigation" which he was reading and tucks it inside his backpack. He then pushes it under the table and extends his arm to his dinner companion. "Shall we?" he smiles. Giggling, she takes his arm.

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