Treasure Island (Gareth, private)

[O'Brien]

It was another morning, increasingly warmer thanks to either the magics of Arios, the coming spring, or perhaps a combination of the two. Gareth Gruven was up in his cozy tree home, and was he anywhere but Arios, he probably would have just woken up. The home had quite the pleasant temperature in it, a comfortable warmness, still, there wasn't much chill felt when he opened the door into the forest. Birds could be heard chirping about, the occasional twig snapped underfoot of a forest creature, and a gentle breeze tickled the green leaves and pine needles on the various massive trees that covered so much of the island. With or without winter's chill, magic assured that these plants retain their brilliant green hues; frost was nowhere to be found.

The scene was very typical of Arios, nothing at all seemed out of place...well, nothing, that is, except for one thing. Coming up from the forest floor was a light glitter, something reflecting the radiance of a sun right back up. Whatever the object was, it wasn't visible from high in the trees where the sprite currently was. Nevertheless, it was an alluring gleam that the object gave off, almost as alluring as the thought of what it might be. After all, what things reflect light like that? Gold, silver, and otherwise shiny objects. Simply put, cheap things didn't.

Quietly the forest scene remained unchanging. No one seemed to be around...but it was hard to say whether or not anyone else had seen the sparkle that caught Gareth's eye.

OOC: You may time stamp this, whatever works with your FT.

[Gareth Gruven]

Gareth had been sipping out of a small flask that had contained his water when he reminded himself that he was today practice his Archery. Sighing, he set the flask down on the counter and glided into his bedroom, taking the composite-short bow forged from elven steel. The bow was extremely light to the touch, and on the handle, an emblem of a radiant sun had been forged. Taking the bow into his left hand, he smiled at it cheerfully, wondering if it could compete with Sal's Crescent. Much similar to Sal in many aspects, he too had named his bow, but the name was entirely different. Sal had named his Crescent, and, to be exactly opposite, Gareth had named his Sunrise.

Along with Sunrise, he had also asked for a quiver that fit his size, and twenty arrows to go with it. Probably out of kindness or boredom, the Smith had forged the sun emblem on the quiver, and the arrows as well. If need be, the quiver also held the bow. Selecting five of the sun-emblemed arrows, and fifteen of the normal ones, he quickly set them into his quiver. At the very bottom was a crumpled up bank-note of 100 crowns that the smith had secretly slipped in there, still hidden from the Sprite's eyes.

Laying the quiver and bow beside the bookshelf, Gareth went to fetch his armor. It was mesh armor, wrought of fine elven steel, was extremely light to his weight, and amazingly flexible. Probably a mix between Damascus steel and elven, or so Gareth had presumed. He quickly slipped this over his cotton shirt, and then in turn, placed on his the green and tan garb of the ranger, and then brooched his pine-green cloak. Most likely he wouldn't be needing these things just to practice his archery, but he was in the process of making himself get used to wearing the armor. Next, he grabbed his shortsword. It was made of elven steel, and was very light in weight, and, like almost all the other weapons he had, possessed the emblem of the radiant sun on both sides of the hilt and of the blade. Taking the black leather sheathe, he quickly buckled it to his belt, and adjusted it to his liking.

He quickly hovered up back into the living room and loaded his pack up with two days rations, and a flask of water, along with a bit of rope if he got stuck in a situation where he would need it to reach one of his arrows. Throwing on the knapsack, he flew back down into his bedroom and grabbed his quiver and bow. Slinging the quiver onto his back with ease, he tucked it between his rings, and gripped the elven bow in his hands. Smiling, he exited his house through the trapdoor, carefully closing it shut behind him.

As he glided down towards the bottom of his tree, where he had made his own archery target, he noticed a luminous glitter somewhere in the underbrush below. His brow furrowed and he cocked an eyebrow at the sight, while meanwhile his dark-green almond-like eyes sharpened at the sight. What was this glitter doing on the ground at his home? He didn't remember possessing any glittery thigns, no..that was for the wealthy. Not that he wasn't wealthy..no he had won 20,000 crowns at a casino, enough to keep him laid back and relaxed for a year. But he never bought anything as shiny as that. Deciding to investigate, Gareth ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair and made a direct dive for the treasure, holding his bow tightly so he would not drop it. He could only imagine what he would find when he reached the ground...

[O'Brien]

Loaded with equipment and aided by gravity, Gareth swooped downward to the forest floor, having to slow down soon so as not to smack into the ground. As he came down, he noticed the source of the glittering - it was a beautiful opalescent orb, reflecting the traces of sunlight that made it down to this level brilliantly. The orb, about the size of a human fist, was like a pearl, mostly a creamy white color but also having some rainbow swirls dancing about within it. For several yards around the jewel, some still-green leaves sat about, forming a nice natural halo that framed and crowned the already impressive treasure that lay solitary, pure, and immaculately clean. With that and the various trees roots that ran below the leaf halo, it was as if the forest was centered around this one spot. How could Gareth have missed it before?

The pearl remained where it was, still shining as if beckoning to the sprite to come and examine it. The forest remained mostly silent, save the occasional sound of a wild animal, and no one else seemed to be around to claim the prize. Off in the distance, Gareth could see a few deer munching on some shrubs, but they seemed not to take notice of him.

[Gareth Gruven]

Gareth hesitated when he caught sight of the orb in it's splendid nest. It almost seemed as if someone had put it there, and he sure didn't want to be around if that person was guarding it. 'Perhaps a Druid placed it there...' Gareth absent-mindedly thought as he bent closer to examine the pearl. It seemed almost too likely for a Druid to have placed it there, with the leaves forming the perfect haven for the pearl. Another notice came to Gareth's mind, and that was how the forest seemed to be centered around this object. His eyes glinted majestically as they reflected upon the pearl's luminous color, and a small grin crept to his face. He looked around to see if anyone was around, watching him particulary, and only was granted with the sight of a few deer not too nearby. With a sigh, Gareth examined for any trip wire of some sort, not that he would really need to, he was hovering above the pearl. Holding his breath, Gareth slowly reached out towards the pearl, hoping to take it gently within his careful grip.

[O'Brien]

The pearl, if that was indeed what is was, continued to shine with its warm, celestial glow. A gentle breeze passed through the woods, lightly picking up some of the leaves, adding to Gareth's idea of the forest somehow working around the majestic gem. Besides the light rustling of the leaves, no sounds seemed out of place. It almost seemed too easy. The sprite placed his small hands on the treasure, and if he had been expecting some sort of instant change, he would have been disappointed. The pearl felt smooth, which was to be expected, but very cool, like any other pearl, despite the glow it emitted. It was almost as if there was something wrong with the beautiful object. The jewel felt more like a fine steel sword than a peal.

[Gareth Gruven]

A breeze blew sweetly through the air, adding it's own desired effect to the august scene that was unfolding. Gareth sighed as he took the orb into his hands, and he gently ran his fingers over it. It felt more like a fine steal sword than a pearl, that was true. He contemplated on what it was doing there, and why someone had carelessly left it in such a place. His eyes glinted majestically as they reflected the glowing light it emitted. 'I wonder how it got to be here...' he silently thought to himself as he lsat criss-crossed on the ground and held the pearl on his lap. He ran his fingers over it gently as he thought of the possibilities. He wondered what was wrong with the object...it seemed, disfunctional for such a weird thing. He had assumed it to be made from some sort of Arcana, due to the fact that it glowed in a rather odd way, unlike most pearls. He stared down at the pearl, eyeing it warily as if it was suddenly a threat. He would then wait to see if anything would happen, surely something was to come of this, this thing. Things didn't usually appear on his front door-step for nothing.

[O'Brien]

As Gareth sat about with the pearl on his lap, appearing somewhat like a gypsy with a crystal ball, there was a faint sound of footsteps in the woods, crunching on leaves and snapping the occasional twig. Unfortunately due to both his fascination with the treasure and the fact that this sound was hardly any different from the ordinary sounds of the forest, Gareth did not hear this. A figure behind the sprite crept ever closer on its tiptoes, still unheard to him.

Suddenly, it was as if day had suddenly faded into night. Gruven soon realized that only the pearl had changed, but the immediate absence of its radiance had teased and beguiled his mind. Rather than the celestial beauty it once was, the jewel had changed drastically. It still shone with an otherworldly light, but now its color was a deep purple, almost to the point of being black. In the dark swirling colors, Gareth noticed what looked like slanted eyes and a wicked smile, perhaps even a laugh on its ethereal face. If these sudden changes startled Gareth into looking behind him, he would soon realize that he was moments too late.

The silence right before had been abruptly violated by the sound of a heavy bola being swung about. Even if Gareth had looked behind him, he would only see an ugly old orc hurling the bolas at him. With nets in between the ropes of the bola filled with nets, much like the webbing of a frog's foot, the bola landed around Gareth and effectively trapped him to the spot, still with the now purple pearl. The weights on the bola were not extraordinarily heavy, but with his diminuitive stature, the sprite was struggling to escape. Laughing a very ugly laugh, the wrinkled green orc wobbled over to the ensnared Gruven and gave him a solid whack on the head with a blunt metal club. Fortunately, the hit was not too hard and Gareth merely blacked out. The forest faded from his view, but the transformed pearl remained in his arms.

...when Gareth next opened his eyes, the very first thing he noticed was the throbbing pain in his head, still lingering from the club's blow earlier. The very next thing he would realize was that he was moving. The orc was jogging through the forest while dangling the ensnared sprite ahead of him. Unfortunately for Gareth, that meant he was taking many hits from stray branches that the orc otherwise would have taken himself in his haste. As he looked out at the orc, Gareth saw the metal club on the beast's back, and saw that the orc himself was ugly even by orc standards.

Old and with tough, wrinkled skin the color of pea soup, the orc had obviously seen better days. His dirty white hair was quite unkempt and wild, though not notably long. Probably from a lifetime of feasting and laziness, the orc sported a large belly that stuck out and hung over his leather belt. Dirtied steel was present on the orc - a breastplate and two greaves, specifically, with tan leather boots and gauntlets. He was very much a stereotypical orc, save his age, wrinkles, and hair color. Ahead in the distance, Gareth could see nothing but endless forest; if they were headed some place specific, they couldn't have been too close at the time. The pearl still was cradled in Gareth's arms as it had been before, leading him to believe that the bolas had remained close in a net form ever since he was knocked out. Now, if ever, was the time for the sprite to think or even dare a question or two.

[Gareth Gruven]

Gareth's eyes widened as the pearl began to drastically change colors. The almond-shaped orbs grew wide with fear as the globe went from a peachy color to a continuously glowing, darker color. He took a second to steady the Orb, wondering why exactly it was changing this color. Although he didn't know it, an ugly brute of an Orc was sneaking up behind him, yet Gareth remained deaf to the crunching of leaves; his attention was focused upon the pearl. He gently ran a forefinger over it, seeing if it would change color to his body-heat. He frowned and gave a startled gasp as the view of the slanted eyes and wicked smile appeared on the Orb. He was about to peer closer, when he soon realized a looming shadow over him. He turned around just in time to see a bola wrap tightly around his arms and the pearl, preventing him of flight. He struggled for a brief few seconds, tossing his body this way and that, trying to loosen the device...but he was too late. He was greeted with the hospitable edge of a metal club. He groaned in despair as everything suddenly blacked out...

He woke up with a start at the humble whacks of the branches he was being forced to clear. He let out a squeek to see himself swinging from the Orc's grip, and realized he was still un-capable of flight. He checked to see if his sword was still with him, the shortsword attached to his belt. He knew though that the mesh armor underneath his clothes remained, for the bola had wrapped itself around his entire body. He also guessed that his bow and arrows were safetly inside the quiver upon his back, which the bola had as well wrapped around when it looped his entire body.

Gareth shooked his head vigorously, trying to wake himself up. His platinum-silver hair was tossed this way and that when he shook his head, but he didn't care, the situation had taken a turn too far south for him to worry about his hair. He silently looked down, trying to see what color the pearl was. Maybe it would tell him what exactly he had gotten into. Afterwards, he glanced up to take a look at his captor, a filthy ugly brute with a sickening green skin, which of course was old and wrinkled. He noticed that the Orc had quite the belly on him, which brought the fact that if the Sprite was ever to get free, the Orc probably wouldn't be able to catch him. He stayed silent for a while, before taking the risk to speak. "You know...you made a mistake back there. Hasn't your mother ever told you to not capture Rangers? They have many friends, friends that will be looking for me..." the Sprite lied in a convincing voice, though it was more of a statement than a persuasion. He figured that neither Melloamin nor Paul would come looking for him, not today at least. He stayed quiet for a bit, his patience wearing thin. "What in Aertenia's (?) name do you think you're doing you ugly, stupid, foul, stinky, disgusting, horrible, ugly, smelly, fat, lazy, filthy, ugly, idiotic brute!" the Sprite yelled at the top of his lungs, before saying a few more choice words. He added quietly afterwards, "I'm sorry, but you make me very sad." Of course, the Sprite was being sarcastic, but he made sure not to show it.

[O'Brien]

The old orc flashed Gareth a grin, revealing a mouth full of large, rotting yellow teeth. He could smell the foul breath of the orc which reeked of flesh, small bits of which could still be spotted hanging in his teeth. Unheeding of the sprite's warning, he grunted. "O' coas' you's gots folks gonna comman getcha," he slurred, "an' das why I gots you." Abruptly the orc's running stopped and Gareth swung back and knocked his head on his captor's breastplate. They were now in a grove, and the old orc carelessly dropped the bound Gruven on the forest floor, as he might an old pot or pan he no longer desired. A jagged rock on the ground took a nice cut into his side as he hit the ground with a thud.

"Ooo yes we's gonna get chu good," he bragged, "dis here island's gonna be ours, all ours! And we's gonna use you...yes we's gonna use you ta take it, yeah. Oh yes oh yes we are..." He kept pacing around mumbling such nonsense...or was it? Either way, Gareth was not in a very favorable situation. The old orc than began laughing a thoroughly annoying guttural laugh and then proceeded to play with his club for a bit, spinning it around and occasionally whacking the nearby trees with it. Only more questions arose to haunt the poor bound sprite.

[Gareth Gruven]

"Ohh, I see, so you intend to get a ransom from me huh?" Gareth spat out at the filthy brute, trying hard not to look at the odd tidbits of flesh stuck between the Orc's rotten yellow teeth. "Well let me tell ya something! My friends are high trained Mages, and you won't be getting any ransom from them, oh no. You'll get killed! Once they discover that I'm gone, they'll send out scouts for me, then they'll send out the journeymen mages! Yea, that's right!" the Sprite yelled at the Orc at the top of his voice, obviously in a fowl mood for being swung through the air and being smacked by trees. "They'll mess with your mind, oh yes, and then my Elementalist friend will roast you to pieces!" he continued to blubber out, too caught up in the lie to let it slide away. It was then that the Orc tossed him pitifully on the ground, where a wonderful jagged rock cut Gareth's side. "Oh that was very nice of you," Gareth spoke sarcastically.

On the outside, he displayed quite the temper, but on the inside he was laughing at the Orc's foolishness. The jagged rock could serve quite nicely in cutting his bonds, espicially if it was sharp enough to cut through skin. He slowly and gradually attempted to scoot and roll towards the rock, trying to make it as descreit as possible while the Orc paced and muttered. "So there are more of you then?" Gareth almost whispered as he shook his head quietly. "How many? And where did you come from? Surely the ferry wouldn't have let you have passage here," Gareth asked, trying hard to regain a civil tone and be polite. "Why are you taking over, and what do I have to do with any of it?" he asked his last question before falling silent, praying to Carmelya that he could get himself out of this mess.

[O'Brien]

The orc leaned in close to Gareth and smiled again. No, smiling was really the wrong term. When most folk smile, you just don't smell rotting flesh in their teeth, and there just couldn't be less friendliness in the smile. "Laga-hai nar nadal uruks," he replied in his native tongue. "Hai ushtar katu sundogubuk, zanbaur. Mirdautas vras, mirdautas vras. Vrasubatburuk ug butharubatgruiuk." It was anyone's guess what the old windbag just said, but it was more likely than not something unsavory.

"We no take ferry," he finally said in Common. "We sneak in." He didn't seem to notice Gruven trying to inch towards the rock, but if he did he may have realized the futility in doing so. The sides of the rock weren't particularly sharp, and Gareth couldn't reach the top. For every advantage to being a small being, there just had to be at least one disadvantage. At least he wasn't a regular Fae, who could be held in a jar. That would be embarassing. The old orc at first seemed to ignore the sprite's questions about his current situation, but then the foul creature spun around and began addressing just that.

"We hold you here," he continued in his broken Common. "You...you paraun come, orcs take island." But what was "paraun"? Did this orc have any idea what he was talking about?

[Gareth Gruven]

Paruan? What the heck was that? Gareth shrugged it off and continued to glance down at the orb occasionally, checking to see what color the small pearl might have fulfilled. "I see..." Gareth spoke almost hesitantly now, fully realizing what trouble he might be caught up into now. "Urm..may I ask what Paruan is?" Gareth asked in a mildly hot tone, trying hard to keep a civil attitude without screaming his head off for help or barraging the Orc with threats.

'So they sneak in...' Gareth absent-mindedly thought to himself as he sat there bound, unable to get out of his predicament. Casually he tried to loosen the ropes that bound him. "Well then, how long do we get to wait for these Paruan to come hmm? Is there going to be a festival, lots of food and wine?" Gareth joked with a chuckle as he shook his head, only messing his platinum-silver hair up even more than what it had been.

[O'Brien]

When he checked, Gareth noticed the orb with a purple color again. Well...the orb itself was not purple, it was black. It was almost as if a series of purple clouds was swirling about within the orb. Like a milky substance dissolving in water the purple "clouds" were. His observations were interrupted when the old orc answered his question. "Paraun," he repeated. His big hunky brow was furrowed as if he was trying to place the word, almost like he had just forgotten the word itself. "How do you say it...Unchlak does not know..." Unchlak was apparently the orc's name. As he tried to place the word, Gruven heard a rustling in the brush around the grove. It was difficult to say whether it would be a wild animal, another orc, or a person who had come to rescue the sprite. Even if he shot a glance in that direction he would have seen nothing. His ropes still seemed very tight, and the prospect of facing whatever was in the brush was becoming increasingly likely.

"Paraun," he said again, "Unchlak thinks it is not common word in orcish. Orcs not say often, yes. But when paraun come, there may be foods, if paraun brings the foods. Paraun will be glad to see you Unchlak am sure." There was definitely something in the brush; Gareth heard it rustling again. Unchlak looked spacey again. He probably had his eyes glazed over and had his back to his captive. Obviously he wasn't the best kidnapper around. It was just unfortunate that his ropes would not yield, or else Gruven would have been able to just fly off into the trees.

[Gareth Gruven]

Gareth rolled his eyes, thoroughly irratated with the Orc's presence, and the stupidity of his capture. "Well then, I'd say Unchlak doesn't know much, does he?" Gareth spat with fowl distate, his face flushing in anger. First he had been fooled by looking into a small glass orb, then he was kidnapped for it, realizing it had been a trap. Now he was sitting here, tied and bound, with nothing to break free with, and he was sitting down and listening to the most annoying, mundane Orc alive. Obviously the situation had not brightened since the brightening's morning.

But then Gareth saw it. The rustle in the bushes, the faint tremble of the branches that had caught the Sprite's emerald eyes almost immediatly. He silently bit his lip and debated on whether or not this animal or person was to be his rescuer, attacker, or Paraun. Whatever the blasted word meant.

But for his own sake, Gareth kept quiet, silently brooding over the fact of what exactly Paraun was. He listened attentively for the Orc to speak again, despite his desperate will to laugh in the creature's face and tell the man how stupid it was. Silently, Gareth gathered the information to the jig-saw puzzle, and began to fit each piece togethor, slowly and gradually. [i'So...it must be a person or group of people...perhaps an Arcane form of energy or something..'[/i] Gareth began to muse, debating the possibiltiies of each's likeliness. 'And it'll be happy to see me here. That's fine and dandy! Maybe I can ask it to cut out the blubbering Orc's throat...' the young Sprite continued to think hotly. However, deep inside his heart, he felt that this Paruan was more of a danger than the Orc was at the moment...

[O'Brien]

With an angry, brutish grunt, Unchlak lashed out at Gareth with the club he carried. It hit the captive sprite square on the back of the head. He remained conscious but the blow hurt like Aeternia and he soon noticed blood trickling from his mouth. "Quiet!" the orc yelled. "Urgh...Unchlak hopes paraun gets here soon...yeah." His old voice trailed off once again. He turned around to face Gruven again and raised a fist, preparing to speak more about the orcs that were to come, but he soon forgot what he was going to say, mumbled something unintelligible (and probably unintelligent as well!), and turned back around to pace about the grove, still mumbling with his hands held behind his back.

Both he and the sprite were surprised when suddenly, a vine shot up from the forest floor and whipped itself around the orcs hands, binding them as a rope would. Two more vines then came to life and each ensnared one of Unchlak's legs, tightly binding him to the earth. Whatever was causing this decided then to add insult to injury - or rather, injury to insult - as a branch from above dropped down towards Unchlak and quite abruptly turned into a snake, which took a nice bite out of the orc's right shoulder before hitting the ground and slithering off. Shocked by the sudden assault of nature, Unchlak began wailing and screaming in rage, struggling against the vines that would give about as much as the bola he had gotten around Gareth.

Whatever was rustling around the grove began rustling again. It was now plain to see (except maybe to the old orc's tiny, senile brain) that the two were not alone in this forest clearing. Could this be paraun?