Ecthelion

Pour ce qui est de la version anglaise, je pense que Taliesin va me laisser le faire (comme je suis anglophone, et qu'il à loupé son exam d'anglais ). (J'ai tout juste passé l'exam de français, alors, vais me taire ). Sinon, pour les faucons, mettre une limite à trois faucons me paraît judicieux. Par contre, c'est vrai que les sorciers ennemis ont à craindre. Pourquoi ne pas mettre un "attention messire" quand le faucon attacke un personnage? Si un gars a le temps de prndre un boulet à la place de son chef, il peut bien prendre un faucon, non? Autrement, on garde quoi comme bébêtes à la fin? Faucons, ours, tigre on en parle, mais les loups? Ecthelion PS: Merci Taliesin de m'avoir dit que tu prennaits les Tigres. Mes ratlings vont pouvoir faire mumuse !

Pardon d'avoir tardé avec le poste . Je vous envoie la fin de la première partie (c'est pas trop tôt ). Trail of blood, FINISHED! Melkar fell from the tree, landing two meters lower, in front of the charging men, startling them. But not enough to make them stop. Too bad, he thought, pulling two long-barreled pistols from his belt. Guess I will need to blow your brains out. He drew a careful bead on the closest mercenary. Pity. The gunshot pierced the silence as a flame and bullet leapt from the gun’s muzzle. The man fell dead, a small hole in the centre of his forehead. He didn’t have time to aim with his left hand. Instead, he fired from the hip, shooting a second man through the belly, wounding him fatally. One of the mercenaries jabbed at him with his spear, trying to stick him in the gut, but Melkar grasped the shaft, twisting it out of the man’s hands. He would never know why he did what he did next; he just knew that he had to do it. Twisting around, he rammed the spear into the mercenary’s chest. The man’s eyes went wide as he screamed in pain, but Melkar didn’t seem to notice. He held the dieing man in front of him, warding off the blows that were aimed at him, then pushed forwards, knocking two men over. He ducked a blow that he hadn’t seen. Pulling his axe out of his belt he swung backwards, catching the man in the side. He twisted around and struck the man on the head, knocking him out. The last two men tried to rise, but Melkar was faster than them, killing them both before they had a chance to hurt him. Panting, Melkar collapsed and began shaking, fighting the urge to vomit. He had come very close to death, yet its finger had only brushed him as it had eight years before. And as before, luck had saved him. Luck, thought rising to his knees. It is not luck, something more. A gift and a curse, the gift of foresight… That was what had saved him from the Beastmen, but he had no control over it. As if it were a Talisman that only is activated when needed. Were I able to control it, Onima needn’t have died. Gathering his wits, he collected his weapons and made his way to the entrance, leaving only dead and dying men behind him. Death may have spared me, but only so I would become its tool. It is a curse. Melkar tue les cinq mercenaires encore en vie grâce à des prémonitions. C'est comme ça qu'il à survécu quand sa famille a été tuée par les hommes bêtes. Tar Narden led his men down a winding stone staircase that took them into an old cellar. They stopped in horror as their eyes beheld what lay inside. The cellar had been desecrated with evil runes, drawn in shimmering blue and purple ink, describing things that no mortal should ever know. A small stone basin stood in the centre of the room, unearthly flames rising from within it. Last of all, chained to the wall, was a creature of nightmares, the very thing that created them. The abomination was an unrecognizable mass of mutations, so it was impossible to tell what it had been. Three gaping maws protruded from its body, lined with frightful fangs. Its slug-like body had several spiked protrusions that would propel it across the ground and shred anything that got in its way. “A enfant indeed, born from the shaping will of Chaos itself,” said a sickly Tar Narden. “We will burn this place now! Pour blessed oil over every stone and beam. Only fire will purify this womb of evil.” They did what he told them to do, Caleth pausing to trace a rune on his blade, and with a disgusted look on his face walked up to the thing to do what he must. Tar Narden et son groupe découvrent un enfant du chaos dans une cave. Il décide de brûler la maison. Igenham stared at the burning building. The slaves had been freed, the servants evacuated, and enough money found to get them all home. She died because she saw it, he thought. She had to die because of that. Ancalima came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “What is troubling you? We solved the murder, freed the slaves and punished the ones that were responsible. It is all over now, and Onima can rest in peace.” “No,” he answered. “We have only diminished them. They fled this place, leaving only a few, hoping we would not come back. They are still out there. They failed to bring that thing to maturity, but what more weapons do they posses? We cannot understand them.” His head dropped. And a tear rolled down his right cheek. Without knowing why, she took him in her arms and held him to her, comforting him. “I feel impotent, as if I were trying to hold the tide back with my bare hands, knowing that if I fail, everyone else in the world will drown.” With that he began to weep. Ancalima looked at the man, one of those that had rescued her many years before. He had fought for ten years, ever since he was twelve years of age, seeing things that no man should ever have to witness. He had killed, showing no remorse, as if he were a machine. Yet here he was, crying like a child in his mother’s arms. Roughly, she forced him to look at her. “Igenham, listen to me! You are not impotent! You just stopped the cult from doing something horrible to Marienburg. We will stop them again and again if need be, but we need you to be strong for us all. We need you!” He stood, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Forgive me, Ancalima. That was a shameful thing for me to do, but I had to. Thank you.” “Do not feel shamed, it shows you still have a heart. It might be what will save you. Come we need to go back.” They walked a way from the fire, Ancalima’s comforting arm still around him. Igenham découvre que les cultistes ont évacué les lieux. Il déprime un peu et Ancalima le réconforte (pas de sous-entendus!) In a long, narrow crypt, a new tomb had been erected. The symbol of the Order had been carved onto it, along with an eye whose pupil was a tong of flame. Here lies Maria Helgava, Invisible in life, Invisible now in death. She chose to be called Onima. L'épitaphe d'Onima. Je commence la suite demain. Elle s'appelle Hunted. À plus. Ecthelion

Non, il s'agit d'une forme un peu ancienne, mais plus distinguée. Si on prenait hurts, ça veut dir que ça fait mal maintenant, Tar Narden exprime le fait que ça a fait mal dans le passé. Merci d'avoit lu et relevé les fautes (too, mais ç me ). La suite sera prête cet aprem. Ecthelion

Non, je crois que c'est bon. Je pense que j'aurais plus de commentaires à faire quand tu postera le bestiare. Au fait, ne pourrait-on pas le mettre sur grand aigle et lui donner la possibilité d'être accompagné par dees faucon géants, idée un peu farfellue, certes, mais à voire. Ecthelion

Merci d'avoir lu! Je crains que tout le monde sent le piège venir. Dommage ça gache un peu la surprise. Mais bon, on ne va se pleindre pour ça... La suite vous arriveras demain dans la soirée (on doit travailler dans le jardin. ). Ecthelion.

Désolé d'avoir tardé pour mon poste, je vous l'envoie. Trail of Blood, continued Igenham and his group were clearing the rooms on the second floor, but they had yet to meet any serious resistance. That made him very nervous; the hallway was rather narrow and if someone came out with a bow, they would all be surely slaughtered. “So far nothing!” Dommus called from the doorway of the eighth room they had searched. “Nothing since those two we killed on the stairs. Does anyone else feel like we are walking into the biggest ambush the world has ever known?” “They would have sprung the trap sooner,” Ancalima said, hoping it was true. “We are sitting ducks in this corridor, and have been so from the second we set foot in it!” The rooms were not in use, apparently it was too late for any clients to be there, and the manager obviously had no use for slaves sleeping in good beds if they weren’t going to generate any profit. “I’m guessing that the slaves are locked in one of the bigger rooms when they aren’t doing business,” said Igenham. “They have got to be here somewhere.” They had gotten to the end of the hallway, and only had one last room to inspect. This one had a large chain locking it. “This is it!” he shouted. “They have got to be behind this door! Ancalima, can we blow the lock without making to much noise?” “No problem. It will be easy,” she answered. “One other thing; it might be best if you were the first person they saw. Better than Dommus or I in any case,” he added with a grin, knowing that she would not scare them as much as either of them would. Ancalima nodded and pulled a bag of black powder from her purse, carefully pouring it into the lock. Next, she placed a wick in it, stood back and lit it. The three of them ducked into the closest room and waited for the explosion. The blast ripped the padlock apart and charred the door a little, but didn’t do much else in the way of damage. Igenham took the chain off and opened the door for Ancalima, and winked at her as she entered the room. He was rewarded with a sweet little smile, before she got back to business. Ancalima looked about and raised her hand and conjured a small orb of soft light. In the corner of the room she saw several huddled figures, who hid from the light as best they could, fearing that the slavers might have returned. “Don’t worry,” Ancalima told them gently, reaching out with her hand. “We are not here to hurt you. We want to help.” “Who are you?” asked a scared voice. “We are your freedom.” En gros, Igenham et les autres sont arrivés à l'endroit où les esclaves sont enfermés. Tout le monde estassez nerveux à cause du manque de résistance. Tar Narden was also feeling uneasy. So far they had only found two servants who had thrown themselves to the ground and sued for mercy. They had cleared almost every room on the first floor, only a couple remained. “Either they have deserted the place, or we are walking into one great big trap!” whispered Caleth. “Why aren’t they here?” “I don’t know,” answered Tar Narden. “I am starting to think that they cleared out after Onima got in…” “Last room,” said Daïmnia. “Will you do the honors, Caleth?” He nodded, and then kicked the door in and rushed inside, the others right on his heels. They were in a large room strewn with soft cushions and pillows and set with low tables. A bar was against the wall to their left, stocked with vast amounts of wine and liquors. There were also three cultists standing guard before a door. “Come not forwards!” one of them said. “You shall not trouble the enfant!” “And who are you to worry about a child’s sleep?” Caleth barked back. “Come forwards and meet your doom!” They all laughed, an eerie and unearthly laugh. “There is much about the great mystery of Chaos that you do not know, imprudent one. We shall enjoy sending your souls to our Lord, so that he can reshape you to fit his designs.” One of them raised his arms, and a sword lifted itself from a small pile in front of him, and flew at Caleth. The warrior just had time to knock the sword away before it ran him through. This is the one who killed Onima! he thought. He can levitate objects! Daïmnia rushed past him and struck at one of the men defending the sorcerer, but the man blocked the blow and struck her with his fist, knocking her to the ground. Caleth, dodged two more flying swords and struck at the man, only to be blocked by two more swords. The man smiled at him, then another sword attacked him. He parried it, but another one struck him. Soon it was all Caleth could do just to parry the blows. All his skill was called upon, but still he had to back away from the rain of blades that hammered him. Tar Narden incinerated the man standing over Daïmnia, allowing her to get to her feet before the second one split her in two with his huge axe. Her two katanas flashed and the man fell headless, like a tree felled by the wind. But more swords attacked them. Daïmnia had but little trouble parrying the three swords striking her, but Tar Narden was backed to the wall, doing his best to dodge the blows. Caleth realized that the swords attacking him had lost some of their skill. The more swords he controls, the harder it is for him to guide them precisely! Now is my chance. With a cry he charged past the hovering swords, two of them cutting him on the arm and leg, but he was now close enough to strike the sorcerer. The halberd ran the man through, nailing him to the wall. As soon as it happened, the swords clattered to the ground, leaving the three completely out of breath. Caleth wasn’t hurt badly; the cuts were shallow, but Tar Narden had taken a sword in the knee and was bleeding badly. ”Sorry Tar Narden,” Caleth said as he knelt next to him. “This is going to hurt. Daïmnia, hold his hands so he will not accidentally cast a spell.” He grasped the sword tightly and pulled it out of the man’s knee, drawing a loud cry from the older man. As fast as he could, Caleth traced a rune on the wound then placed his hand on it. The wound took a while to heal, so deep and damaging it had been, but when he removed his hand from the man’s knee, the gaping wound was gone. “It’s rather sore, but I think I will survive,” Tar Narden said. “But next time you have to save my life, please, just let me die. That hurt!” “You poor baby,” Daïmnia said. “Let’s just see what is behind that door,” he said. “And don’t call me a baby!” he added. Tar Narden et son groupe confronte trois cultiste qui protègent un "enfant". Un des hommes est capable de léviter des objest (des épées, on comprend comment Onima est morte). Un combat s'en suit, et finit par la mort des cultistes. Au programe du prochain post: Melkar contre les 5 mercenaires t un peu plus avec Tar Narden. Ça devrait être prêt demain. Ecthelion

Pas mal les photos. En gros, je m'attendais à quelquechose comme cela. Dès qu'on a des règles un peu plus détaillés, Taliesin et moi allons le tester. Merci de mettre autant d'efforts là-dedans Dreadaxe. Ecthelion

Pourquoi lui donner la possibilié de monter un Cerf Géant? Dans ce cas, il faudrait lui mettre la règle "esprit de la forêt", non? Aussi, je trouve que le Cerf ne colle pas avec le reste du bestiaire possible. Ours, loups, tigres, faucons... Des annimaux non "nobles" comme le cerf ou la licorne. Juste une idée en passant. Ecthelion

Je sais que sàest facile, ils lui foncent dedans. Oui il recharge vite, plus tard je vais préciser qu'il s'agit d'une "arbalette à pompes", ce qui fait qu'il à une cadense de tir beacoup plus rapide. Oui, il risque bien d'avoir mal, il n'est pas un expert de càc... Ecthlion

Deux personnes m'ont demandé ce que font les gardes pendant que l'Ordre attaque. Voici de quoi vous satisfaire. Trail of Blood, continued The explosions also warned the guards that something was not right. Within seconds, one of the sentries saw the burning remains of the door that Tar Narden had blown up, and winded his horn, sounding the alarm. The eight men that were off-duty tumbled out of their cots, scrambling to get their armor on and weapons in hand. The remaining men on the walls hurried down the stairs, leaving the men in the towers alone to keep watch. In two minutes time, fourteen guards were running towards the house, weapons drawn. Unfortunately, they were heading straight towards Melkar’s hiding place. Melkar smiled as the men rushed his way. Silently, he aimed the leader’s head and gently pulled the trigger. The well-oiled parts of his crossbow barely made any noise, and, even though the cord did make an audible snap as it went taught, the mercenaries never heard the quarrel coming. The leading man fell to the earth, the quarrel firmly planted in his throat. Then another man fell screaming, a bolt in his thigh, then another struck in the gut. The rest paused for a few seconds, wondering what to do. Soon, some of them broke ranks to find cover behind the trees, quickly followed by the rest. The second in command began yelling at them to advance, which they did, keeping behind cover as much as possible. You want to try it that way? Melkar silently asked the men. Well, it will not work! Two more men fell, killed by a single shot through the head each, but now, the crossbow began creaking as wood rubbed wood and metal ground metal. The three guards armed with bows shot back blindly, wasting their shot. They also gave Melkar stationary targets. One of them took a round through the chest and let out a cry of pain, grasping at the quarrel deeply stuck in his lung. The other mercenaries, armed with spears and halberds, crept ever closer to the tree where Melkar was perched. Now it starts to get hairy, he thought as he picked an explosive quarrel from a small quiver. Hope you enjoy this one boys! The bolt struck the man in the sternum, plunging into his flesh. As it did so, a small piece of flint attached to the shaft was pushed towards another one. As they stuck each other, they caused a spark that ignited the explosive packet attached an inch from the tip of the quarrel. The blast had a gruesome effect on the man, nearly tearing him in two. It also scared the other soldiers; nobody wanted to finish like the luckless man on the ground. “Hey! I can see the piece of scum!” shouted one of the archers. “Over there! In that tree!” Two arrows hit the tree, only feet away from where he stood. They had indeed spotted him. Time to fix that, he thought. The next two bolts took the archers down, but there were still five guards left, and they could probably reach him with their spears. Fighting them from atop the tree didn’t seem like a smart thing to do. Time to live dangerously! Résumé en français: Les gardes accourent (la méthode d'infiltration de Tar narden est très dicrète ), et se font siper par Melkar. À la fin, Melkar est un peu coincé dans son arbre, on verra se qui va lui arriver. J'espère que vous allez aimer. Ecthelion.

Je dois dire que le dialoggue entre Arthur et Ilia m'a bien fait rire! J'ai un ami qui joue les elfes, et tu as suberbement capturé l'arrogance de ce peuple. Bravo! Je n'ais plus rien à dire, sinon, bonne rentrée! A plus! Ecthelion

La bombe est constituée d'un peu de poudre noire mélangée avec du magnésium. La poudre explose, brule le magnésium, produisant le flash. La bombe est petite, elle ne sert qu'a faire bruler le magnésium. Donc pas de danger. Ecthelion

Merci d'avoir lu et posté si rapidement! Merci aussi d'avoir relevé les fautes, fautes de frappes de malheure Normal, je m'inspire grandement de Rainbow Six . Le gardes ne sont pas à l'intérieur du la maison, mais autour, t'en fait pas j'ai prévu... Ecthelion

Vous vouliez la suite? J'ai réussi à finir mon boulot plus tôt que prévu, alors j'envoie. Trail of blood, continued Igenham took his group to the front door, staying well hidden in the shadowy park. He turned to Melkar and nodded, allowing the Novice to find himself a perch from where he could cover his comrades’ advance. “Anyone threatening a slave with a weapon is to be eliminated immediately,” he told him and the others. “Use what force is necessary, but this is still a rescue operation. If you see any of the men in black robes, fire on sight!” “Don’t know why you are so worried,” answered Dommus. “We did the last one all right, didn’t we?” “Last time we were defending. We are on “assault” mode now, remember?” “I see,” he answered. “Magnesium bombs then?” “Yes.” Igenham a amené son groupe devant la porte pricipale, et donne les instructions pour l'assaut. Ils vont utiliser des bombes spéciales pour... quelque chose... . Tar Narden and his group were in front of the back door, the one the servants used to get into the building. “We will go light on the explosives,” he said. “Only twice as much as we need,” he added thoughtfully. “We toss in three magnesium bombs and rush in. They should be sufficiently rattled in there.” Daïmnia came up to the door and placed four charges on the door. One would probably have sufficed, two would be for good measure and three would be overkill. But four? she shook her head. Hope nobody is behind the door when we set it off…“How long before we go in?” asked Caleth. “Two minutes,” Tar Narden said, pulling a small hourglass from his pocket. “Starting… Now!” he turned it over. Tar Narden et son groupe se préparent pour faire une entrée toute en finesse (double dose de poudre seulement. Quel ce Tar Narden). Les bombes spéciales sont des "flash-bang" assez anciens. Melkar had found a good perch; he could see into all the windows over the main entrance. All were dark now, and, he hoped, empty. He knew it was probably not so, and it might get rather confusing in the dark. Hard to tell friend from foe. Well, who said it was easy? he thought as he attached a spyglass to his heavy crossbow. At least this will help some… Melkar a pris une position de tir. Il ajoute une lunette à son arbalette, histore d'ˆtre précis. Light it!" ordered Tar Narden. “Ten second wick!” said Caleth as the flame raced to the door. ”Get the magnesium bombs out!” The charges went off, shredding the door completely and casting fiery splinters into the building. Two small followed them in. A third one was cast seconds after. "Go! Go! Go!” shouted Tar Narden, meaning that he would follow the younger warriors in. Caleth and Daïmnia rushed inside, left hand over one ear, pushing the other one against their shoulder, eyes shut tight. The reason for those precautions became apparent when the bombs went off. Brilliant white flashes and loud explosions filled the room, thoroughly stunning anyone inside, while Caleth and Daïmnia were only slightly dazed. Tar Narden Walked into the room and found two servants unconscious on the floor that Caleth had struck with his pole. Another man was dead, one of Daïmnia’s shurikens in his throat. The man was wearing a black, hooded cloak. “No doubt about it now,” he said. “The Tzeentch cult is definitely here!” Things had been roughly the same for Igenham, except that they had kicked the door down. As he and Dommus entered the building, they saw two men in black clocks covering their eyes at the top of an impressive staircase that led to the second floor. Both of them fell dead, pierced by quarrels. “Second floor is ours!” he shouted as he reloaded his crossbow. “Let’s get them!” Les deux groupes sont dans la maison. On est sûre maintenant que les cultistes sont dans la maison. Igenham et le groupe deux prennent le première étage, Tar Nardeb et so groupe le rez et les éventuels caves et autres. L'action commence vraiment demain. nda: En anglais, le rez est le premier étage, et le premier étage est le duexième. Je n'ais pas fait d'erreurs dans la traduction. La suite pour plus tard. Ecthelion

Eh bien, merci d'avoir lu, les gars! Ne vous en faites pas la suite arrive cet après-midi. J'ai déja écrit, me rest plus qu'a taper. Et ce seras plus long que le précédent, histoire de faire plaisir à Wilheim . Merci à Wilheim pour les corrections. Iliaron, Gemini Dragon à bien répondu à tes question. Merci d'avoir expliqué les choses Gemini (ça m'évite du travail ), juste "raven" c'est la corneille, et "crow" est le corbeau. Content de te faire réviser ton anglais . Sinon, je vais faire de mon mieux pour poster avant le souper (je dois travailler maintenant et cet aprèm), sinon, ça seras pour ce soir. En tout cas vous l'aurez avant cette nuit. À plus, Ecthelion

Merci pour la suite! Est-ce juste moi, ou va-t-il y avoir des problèmes dans la ville dès que les Elfes seront parti? Bien écrit, on perçoit bien les sentiments de personnages. J'attend la suite! Ecthelion

Je vous envoie encore un peu plus de la suite. Je crois que dans trois à quatre postes j'aurais fini avec cette partie et pourrais lancer la suite (deuxième partie). Trail of Blood, continued It was very late, it was dark and it was cold. The three things made the man standing guard in the sentry tower very uncomfortable and long for the next change of shifts. What a miserable night to be out here! he thought. And they want to increase our duty because of that girl that got in here. Am I glad that didn’t happen during my shift! The mercenary bent over the rail, looking at the building he was supposed to guard, distaste plain to see on his face. But they paid him and the others well, well enough for him to ignore what happened. One other thing that he ignored was that a quarrel was speeding towards him. The bolt struck him in the kidneys, piercing armor and flesh, but before the mercenary could do anything, his whole body jerked to rigidity and fell to the ground. Le garde dans une des tours se fait sniper par Melkar (que Daïmnia aide avec un soupson de poison) “Target is down, repeat, target is down!” Melkar said. “Thanks for that poison you gave me; kept him from crying out.” “No problem,” answered Daïmnia. “Maybe I was a little harsh on the curare dose, but it worked.” A minute later, they found Igenham and the rest of the cell. “All clear!” Melkar announced. “Good. Let’s move in!” Melkar et Daïmnia préviennent Igenham que la voie est libre. Dommus ran to the foot of the wall, keeping low, so as not to let the guards see him. Good, now it’s time to kill those rats! he thought as he unslung a coil of rope from his shoulder. This had better work… He threw the rope and grappling hook over the wall, then pulled it towards him. The hook caught hold of a crack in the stone and wedged itself into it. In seconds, Dommus was on the battlements, crossbow out, ready to shoot anything down. But seeing that the battlements were clear, he signaled the others over by imitating the cry of a raven. Daïmnia was up less than a minute later and she hooked another rope to the walls and threw it over the other side just in time for Igenham to slide down it, the others right behind him. He hit the ground, brought his crossbow up and thumbed the safety off, eyes sweeping the ground as the rest of the team landed next to him. “Everyone to his position! Move!” À l'aide de cordes et grappins les membres de l'Ordre pénètrent dans le jardin qui entour la maison. Voila un peu pour vous mettre sous la dent. Demain je poste un bout avec l'action. Ecthelion

Non, Onima et Igenham ne sont et n'ont jamais été amoureux. C'est Igenham qui a des sentiments pour Ancalima, et elle en moindre mesure pour lui. Je sais que les noms se resembles... Sinon, merci d'avoir lu. Ecthelion.

Elle a été tuée par une épée. On est sûres (presque) que les cultistes l'ont tué. Il n'y a rien d'autre à dire sur le suget. Ils ne sont pas tous bien sains d'esprits. Faut comprendre: il se sentent mal, non seulement parce qu'Onima est morte, mais parce qu'ils n'ont pas pu la secourir. Préférerais-tu que la mort d'un camarade ne les affecte pas? Je suis peutêtre un peu méchant (sorry), mais je fais ça pour insister sur le fait qu'ils ne sont pas des surs-hommes, mais des humain normaux. Voila. Ecthelion

En effet. je confirme aussi que celi-ci est un bon rapport de bataille, même s'il faut attendre un peu pour le lire. Bon j'arrète d'embêter. Ecthelion

Je vous envoie encor un bout. Trail of Blood, continued It was two hours before Daïmnia and Tar Narden found the body, sword still stuck in her flesh. It was with great sorrow that they bore her back to headquarters. **** Igenham couldn’t keep his anger under control; one of the men, in this case one of the women, under his command had been killed! The worst part was that, he was sure, had one of the others been there, Onima would be sharing the evening meal with them. Now, no one wanted to eat, preferring to be alone with their thoughts, sad though they might be. Tar Narden was sitting in a corner, the madness completely gone from his eyes for once; Melkar and Dommus next to each other, so downcast that they weren’t even arguing about who was the best shot; Caleth absentmindedly hacking at a piece of bread, thinking of how he’d stick the rat that had killed her; Ancalima silently mourning for her departed comrade; Daïmnia’s face was a blanc mask, but under it her mind was picturing the effect of her most gruesome poisons on the culprit. Igenham could feel it; the room was filled to the brim with one desire: to go in tonight and give no quarter, freeing the slaves and, at last, learning why the poor girl had been murdered. But he knew that they couldn’t do it tonight, they weren’t focused. If they went in now, their minds would dwell on Onima’s fate, and they might make mistakes, dangerous ones, fatal ones. “Everybody listen!” he called out. “Tonight, no late training. I think it would be best if we just had some sleep. Tomorrow, we will go in, kill all that stand in our way and liberate the slaves. Try to get some rest; you will need it. We will bury her after it is over.” As the others left the room, Igenham realized that he still had to inform his superiors of Onima’s death. If there is anything I hate, he thought, it’s this. Too many letters, far too many. And with each one a departed friend. So many… **** Nobody felt better in the morning; sleep had come with difficulty, when it had come at all. Igenham knew that he would have to let them take the afternoon off. No matter, he thought. They are as ready as ever, two hours of training less will not hurt at all. Besides, he yawned, I could use some rest too. Everyone was at the table, Onima’s place was still set as if she had slept late and was just about to come down and join them. And she would have appeared out of nowhere, scaring us all half to death, Igenham thought, remembering the time she had done it while Melkar had been drinking, causing his to spit it all over Tar Narden. Onima had been forbidden that practical joke after that, but she still did it. That is why we served breakfast after Onima came down. Memories, they always came back to haunt them. There had been far too many deaths, and Igenham hoped, knowing that it was impossible, that she might be the last. Résumé en français: Il n'y a pas grand chose qui se passe. On a retrouvé le corps d'Onima, et les deux autres paragraphes montre la réaction des membres de l'Ordre. Le but est de montrer qu'ils ont toujours des sentiments, même Tar Narden et Daïmnia. Il sert aussi à metre en place la violence de l'attaque qui va suivre. Ça promet d'être sanglant! Ecthelion

Merci d'avoir relevé les fautes d'orthographe, je corrige vite. Nons sommes dans un monde de magie, ne l'oubliez pas. Ne vous en faites pas, je ne vais pas utiliser ça comme excuse chaque fois qu'il y a un petit quelque chose qui semble un peu bizare ou hors de son contexte. S'est vrai qu'on se demande comment l'autre à fait pour passer (on ne sait pas s'il l'a fait), mais je vais révéler cela en temps voulu (fin de cette partie). Bon je vais taper la suite, écrire un peu plus pour vois donner la suite. Ecthelion

J'envoie la suite. On arrive gentillement à la fin de la 1ère partie (ouf). Trail of Blood, continued Igenham was frantic. “Where is she?” he wondered aloud. “What went wrong?” They all knew that Onima was impossible to find if she wanted to. Following her with a spyglass had been hard enough. “Do we separate and try to find her?” asked Caleth. “Yes we will. Normal pairs. Caleth, you go back to headquarters and wait there. The rest of you, search until dark, then go back. If none of you have found her by then, she should be gone home.” They all left, fearful of what might happen. Igenham ordonne les recherche pour trouver Onima. Something just isn’t right, thought Onima. Something was out of place, and it was nagging her. But, try as she might, she couldn’t place her finger on it. She kept walking at a brisk pace, looking ever so often over her shoulder, searching for familiar faces, and saw none. Just not right, something is out of place. But what is… Her thoughts were interrupted by something slamming into her, throwing her roughly to the ground and landing on top of her. As she turned, she saw that a man had run into her. But instead of trying to help her up, he pulled a dagger from under his tunic and raised his arm to strike her. The blow never fell. A jet of flames leapt from her palm blasted the man off of her. Two more men rushed at her, but a wall of fire appeared in front of them, giving her time to run. Right into a third one that she knocked off his feet. Blast it! she thought. I thought that I was away from them! She ran down an alley, only to find that it was a dead-end. Panicked, she spun around and began pronouncing the words for the most complicated spell she knew. The men turned the corner, saw her conjuring a spell and dove for cover. But as she did not cast anything at them, they got back up and charged her. Too late boys! A brilliant ball of fire blossomed in front of her and took the shape of a Phoenix that attacked the men, immolating one of them before they could react. Another one fell seconds after under the blows of the fiery bird. Onima felt pain in her gut and looked down to see a short sword stuck in her belly. Then she slid to the ground, the Phoenix disappearing into the air. That last thing Onima thought was that, for once, she hadn’t been that invisible after all. Onima se fait piégée par quatre hommes, elle en tue trois, mais le dernier la tue. . Onima n'est plus de ce monde (de ce récit non plus). Onima est morte pour deux raison: les membres de l'Ordre ne sont pas immortels et il faut le montrer, deuxièmement parce qu'elle avait trop confiance en ses abiletés naturelles, et n'a pas fait asser pour se cacher. Les points forts des héros sont aussi leurs faiblesses. Dites-moi ce que vous en penser, please. Ecthelion

J'ai déjà joué Skaven une fois, alors sais pas pour qui voter... En tout cas le technomage m'a fait mourrir de rire, il est très bien réussit ton début de rapport de bataille. Allez, je parie pour les ska... nos, hum... et puis "bip"! Les skaven! Ecthelion

Je ne voulait pas te vexer. C'est ton fluff, et c'est vrai il s'agit bien de branches mortes. C'étais juste comme ça, sans vouloir te vexer du tout. Ecthelion