| Kiira’Tiru; The Crystalline Tower | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 8 2006, 07:48 PM (3,064 Views) | |
| eocine | Oct 8 2006, 07:48 PM Post #1 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Now that they were close to the gigantic pink stone they could see the myriad cracks that scored the outer surface. As well as the one giant crack that ran jaggedly down from the crystal’s apex to its very base. There were also a few visible chippings and places where it had been melted by flames that must have reached an astounding heat, possibly even flames that were draconic in nature. Curiously under a closer examination there were visible sigils and glyphs that appeared to actually be inside the stone, as opposed to being etched on the outside. What was even more curious about these markings was that they seemed to generate a magical field that Greg and Avelaer couldn’t help but notice, yet they could sense that the magic at work here went beyond the norm, so far beyond that the very weave seemed to be channeled through them, as if they were a conduit of sorts. Whilst the sorcerer and blade-singer were examining the markings the rogues were busy searching for some method of entrance. Between the two of them Jonas and Fade managed to locate the outline of a door, but the seam was utterly flat and it seemed that there was no handle or similar that gave an obvious method of entrance. As they looked closer they could see that there were more markings inside the stone around the doors, yet they seemed to be dull and lifeless compared to the others, that seemed to possess a certain vibrancy to even the most non magical of eyes. They all differed in shape, and were no more than a foot across per marking. There were eight of these lifeless markings in all three on each side of the door, one atop it and one below, and if one looked closely enough then channels could be seen though the stone, joining each of the sigils with the others in a star-like pattern… It seemed obvious that in some way these sigils and patterns were connected with opening the door, but the question was how… OOC; This is the pattern that the sigils and lines make, you can just about make out the lines, but they're extremely dim... ;) |
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| Darkwind | Oct 8 2006, 08:27 PM Post #2 |
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Like everything else, the tower was in terrible shape. Elven craftsmanship, and magic, being what they were--the best in the land--that meant that it was millenia old, and hasn't been properly cared for in almost as long. The sigils around the door confirmed it. His people hadn't used them since the days of the Netheril. He chuckled at the irony of the studies he disdained so much as irrelevant ancient history would prove of use now. "Abjuration, Conjuration, Divination, Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Necromancy and Transmutation." He pointed at each symbol in turn as he named them. "These are the symbols my people have used to represent the schools of magic in the times of the Netherese. Seems like they're linked to the entrance. but I'm not sure how." Greg listened appreciatively. "We are fortunate you are with us, my friend. I know next to nothing about magic beyond how to shape it into spells, unfortunately. I never had patience for such...academic...studies. To hazard a guess, they are the key to opening the door. See the channels? Perhaps for magical energy? Maybe if we cast a spell from each school at them, the door will open?" His mind handed him an argument to poke holes at that theory. "What divination spell do you know of that has a target? Mostly they're enhancements of the caster's senses or knowledge and act on the caster only. No, I don't think that's it. Maybe it's just a sign? You know, 'Magic school here', or something like that." |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 8 2006, 09:45 PM Post #3 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Listening to the two magic users, Fade tried to wrack her brains and recall the little training in magic she had undertaken as a youngster. She knew the different schools well enough - she herself had once been quite adept at casting spells from the school of illusion before she had concentrated on her martial skills, and then subsequently lost all her inherant magical ability due to the anti-magic restraints she had worn for so long whilst in the Arcane Borotherhood's keep - and so could see the logic of the sorcerers suggestion, and also the bladesinger's rebuke. Contrary to popular belief, the rogue fey'ri wasn't actually stupid, and although she knew herself to be no genius, she did like puzzles. For a moment she stood to one side, biting one of her talon-esque thumbnails in concentration. She then moved a little closer to the two magic users. "Doesn't each school have a kind of root word - like an 'identifier' - when you cast stuff?" she asked, her tone a little apologetic for breaking Greg's and Avelaer's concentration. "All I can remember is that I used to use similar word types and phonetic sounds when casting illusionary spells, and different ones when casting transmutation etc. Maybe if you identified each root sound and tried saying them together? You know, each sound adds up to make a key, like a password..." she trailed off, grinning a little sheepishly. "However, uh, any magical stuff I was involved with was all a long time ago. I could easily be wrong..." |
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| eocine | Oct 9 2006, 08:44 AM Post #4 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Posting as Skafloc; Skafloc also examined the door, running his hands over the smooth stone with a curious look on his face, it was almost a speculative one, as if he were wondering something…. “Is it obviously trapped?” His deep voice rumbled as he looked over the magical markings, which obviously weren’t exactly his forte. From the tone of his voice a perceptive listener might be able to discern that what he was really asking was “am I allowed to hit the door as hard as I can with my axe?” The words being bandied about like ‘identifier’ and ‘Netherese’ meant nothing to him, he knew about the history of his tribe but little else in historical terms. For him there was no point in looking back except to honour those who had fought and shed blood combat. To do anything else was frivolity, pure and simple. |
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| Pamela | Oct 9 2006, 05:24 PM Post #5 |
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Molly
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“You too,” she mouthed back to Karosin, and flew as quickly as she could towards the tower, keeping low to the ground, praying that she’d remain out of sight of the ship behind them. She agreed with Greg; the storm’s sudden stirring seemed unnatural to her and she prayed that they’d be out of the way of any eventual lightning bolts that were sure to start soon. She arrived after the others, and was glad to see that they had found some kind of door after all. She looked at the sigils, listening attentively to the exchange between Avelaer, Greg and Fade. “Try out Fade’s suggestion; it won’t cost us anything but a few seconds. If it doesn’t work, we’ll follow Greg’s. I can provide a few cantrips as well if required. Is there any symbol which is marked with some number or sign to suggest it should be the first to be used? I’d suggest we follow the lines from the point of origin to each one,” she said, forming the symbol as she gave her opinion. “And the cantrip to detect magic can at least be aimed.” She looked over at Skafloc’s unsurprising suggestion, and smiling, remarked, “There is of course that option…Any traps discernable?” |
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| eocine | Oct 9 2006, 07:54 PM Post #6 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin looked closely at the massive crystal shard, examining it as best be could for anything that would prove overly useful. Unfortunately there seemed to be little that his rather murderous skills could actually do here. This being the case he installed himself into place as the group’s sentry, to allow the others to focus on getting them through the door. He just hoped that they’d be able to do it before it started raining, because he didn’t even want to think about what the barbarian would smell like once the rain started soaking into his pig-grease spiked hair. Like a damp mongrel probably… Eyes tuned outwards but ears listening to the conversation he nevertheless kept his own council. He wasn’t completely ignorant of magic, after all there were a few spells that he could cast, and he knew they were invariably either from the illusion or transmutation schools, but more than that he was unsure, and he knew that it would take extensive study for him to learn more. Study that he had no inclination to undertake. As the others discussed the entrance he allowed his mind to drift back to his days as a young assassin in the guild, and to a particularly cruel sight that he’d witnessed in the guild masters hall. The master of the assassins had been a man of many petty pleasures, and he seemed to relish watching other creature’s suffer. To that end he had installed a glass maze in the floor and used to fill it with rats and other creatures like that, before he placed a terrier or a cat into the maze as well, squealing with joy at the kills that were played out before him. Of course eventually, as invariably happened someone stuck a knife in his back and he was murdered. In a way that was deemed to be ‘fitting’ they had decided to allow him to watch as the new ruler of the guild went about his business. They dismembered him and placed part of him all around the glass maze, then introduced the rats. There was one very simple lesson that he’d learned from this rather macabre display, and that was that eventually the rats you push through your maze will be your undoing. It was exactly this shred of hope that he held onto now as they tried to stop the Fey’ri, who were quite clearly toying with them. |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 10 2006, 05:39 AM Post #7 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas listened to Avelaer and Greg, staring at the outlines of the door he had noticed. Not one, but two things went through his mind. The first being the question about the door, where it would lead them and such. The second one he mouthed out. "Is it really even wise to do anything with the markings and symbols? As Skafloc said, is it obviously a trap? Now I may not know what these all will do, but should we tamper with them? I might sound skeptic, but I don't feel like it is a good idea." Jonas shrugged slightly. "Then again, you are the men of magic, not me, so do as you see fit." Jonas turned to Skafloc and grinned widely. "Do as you will, break it, smash it, turn it into splinters, but be careful. There might be something behind the door we might not want to come out." Jonas stared at the door and sharpened his hearing for a moment, concentrating on the door. |
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| eocine | Oct 10 2006, 12:03 PM Post #8 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Try as he might it soon became clear to Jonas that there were no sounds coming through the door. One thing he did notice though was that the crystal itself hummed very faintly. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 10 2006, 04:11 PM Post #9 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Shaking her head, Fade tunred to Skafloc and Jonas. "I don't think it's trapped... I certainly can't find any evidence that it is, and so if it is, it's trapped in a way I've never come across before. I'm pretty confident it's a kind of puzzle - one that would be easy enough for people who knew the solution to input it without much bother, but at the same time complicated enough to keep unwanted elements out. "she peered at the door again "Which definitely leads me to the conclusion that there must be a key somewhere... not necessarily a physical one, but some kind of trigger - be it magical or mundane; although, considering everything, my gold's on it being magical - that must open it." Again, the fey'ri rogue lapsed into thought. "Llana's suggestion to use a Detect Magic's a pretty good one - if they are magical, they'll have an aura about them as to what school they belong to. That might help us work out if they are related to schools or not in the first place." she shrugged. "And if they're not... how about elements? Let's see... fire, ice, air, electricity, earth, acid, water... and holy magic?" she ticked off each element on her fingers and frowned a little. "But I suppose ice and water can be considered the same thing, as can earth and acid... hmmm." With a rueful grin, she then looked over to Skafloc again. "Heh, I'm beginning to wonder if letting you get happy your axe would in the long run be quicker... We could be here all day at this rate." |
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| eocine | Oct 10 2006, 06:20 PM Post #10 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Posting as Skafloc: “That’s all I need to hear”, grinned the barbarian at the information that there were no traps lining the door. His muscles flexed as he brought the battleaxe backwards, and then hurled forwards with all his might. As it sliced through the air the edge of brainbiter gleamed in the rapidly dimming light. Then suddenly… The blade stopped, less than an inch from the crystal surface, and no matter how hard Skafloc forced the weapon it never progressed further than that point. Clearly he wasn’t used to failings in the world of physical might, so he tried again, this time bringing the axe down and forwards with a massive chopping hack. Which was once again stopped by some unexplained force. Sweat sprung up on his brow as he tried one third and final time, taking two steps back first before slashing forwards. This time to the blade didn’t even touch the quartz tower… Not one though to let such things bother him over much the barbarian merely shrugged, recognising that his time would come again soon enough. “It’ll have to be done by the magical ones…” He grunted before stepping away. |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 11 2006, 07:19 AM Post #11 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas frowned slightly as Skafloc's efforts were unsuccesfull and nodded at the large man. He turned to Fade. "This is a big puzzle indeed. Since it is all about magic... I'll just stand over here and watch you do your work." He stayed standing near the door, listening to the crystal's light humming. He wondered if that had anything to do with anything. Maybe they will all find out as soon as they'd start working on the puzzle. |
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| eocine | Oct 11 2006, 07:40 PM Post #12 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin listened to Jonas objections but said nothing. To be frank if it would get him inside before the rainstorm started then he wasn’t overly worried about the danger, particularly as he at least was a distance away from the door. Personally as long as they got through it he wasn’t worried if it was via Skafloc’s blade or the other’s brains. That it was more likely to be solved with spells became apparent when the barbarian couldn’t even touch the door with his blade. There was obviously a powerful spell that was stopping the attack, though he had no clue as to what it might be. He saw little point in asking them to hurry up, better that they did it right than hurried and made a mess of it. Which he had little doubt that they would do if they were actually rushed… It was with some skepticism though that he would be entering the building, he wasn’t eager to get involved in overly close quarters fighting here, he preferred to have room to move. Of course it was a dangerous way of dealing with spell casters to engage them outside, but against someone like Skafloc for example you wanted all the space you could get. |
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| Darkwind | Oct 11 2006, 11:32 PM Post #13 |
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Native
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ooc: can he use Message for that? Given how ineffective the barbarian's attacks were, Greg guessed that the door was protected by a force effect. In that case, if all else fails, they might be able to get in after a Disintegrate. Of course, the elves might have been clever enough to anticipate that... "Well, let's try words first." He spoke each school's base incantation, and watched each symbol come to life and light in turn. However, it seems that that wasn't enough. They symbols glowed, but the door remained warded. Well, it was something at least. "Good call, Fade. You were right." At least in part. "Well, let's see if my idea was correct as well." Better keep the spellcasting to a minimum of complexity--they may well need the more powerful spells he knew later. "Resist Energy, Acid Splash, Detect Magic--hope it works!--Hideous Laughter, Light, Message... Hmm. I hope somebody knows a Necromancy and Illusion spell we could use, 'cause I don't. Well, I'd rather not use up another Invisibility." "I have Color Spray. No Necromancy, though." Greg cast the spells he mentioned at the appropriate symbols, then stepped back and averted his eyes as the bladedancer bathed the whole door in a cone of radiant colors. Then, only one remained uncast. "Anyone?" |
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| Pamela | Oct 12 2006, 07:41 AM Post #14 |
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Molly
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Llana stepped forwards, she had memorised a spell from the Necromancy school, though she was loathe to use it now. Both for the power of the spell and the fact that she had felt it wise to pray for it at all. The power to slay another living being was undeniably a potent and unpleasant one, but tragically in the course of her adventuring life she had occasionally had need of that skill. Though it was one that she used as sparingly as possible, and only when she absolutely had to do so. Perhaps though using it now was better than at any other time, for the spell energy itself could be useful, but wouldn’t be used to take a life. Praying quietly to herself she drew the divine energy into herself, feeling the power drift down to her fingertips. Lightly she pressed her fingers against the cool crystal of the only remaining unlit sigil and stepped backwards once she felt the charge of killing energy drain from her. |
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| eocine | Oct 12 2006, 07:43 AM Post #15 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As the final sigil lit up fully there was a moments pause before the lines that joined them were lit up, a beam of pure white radiance shooting though the channels until the star shaped motif gleamed brightly. Then the sigils themselves changed as well, the necromancy symbol turning a bright green, evocation going a fiery red and so on, till all were lit in the colours most often used to denote them in any kind of magical schooling. The final step in this was when the door that had previously been held tight slid away easily, making a shallow ramp up into the interior of the gigantic gemstone. From inside the air that billowed out was warm, enough that in the cold of the Silver Marches it poured steam, more that that though it was also curiously fragrant, with essences of lavender and rose being easily discernable. Inside the gem they could see what appeared to be a small entranceway, perfectly cut from the interior of the stone. It was clear that whomever had carved out this room had been a craftsman of some talent, for every surface and facet was perfectly picked out and sparkled in the light. One thing was perhaps puzzling though, there was no discernable light source but every area seemed to glow. The room itself was sparsely decorated, a large leaf pattered rug was carefully laid out on the floor, there were several finely crafted bookshelves as well as a variety of hooks on the wall, clearly to ensure that any guests wouldn’t simply leave their outdoor clothing on the floor. One side was decorated with a large Elven tapestry that depicted the first of the Crown Wars, where the beginnings of the Ilythiiri descent into the Underdark where they became the Drow were first stirred. As a non Elf Llana’s grasp of the histories of the people wasn’t as good as it might have been, but she remembered enough from a past discussion with a Cleric of Hanali Cenanil to know that the Crown Wars were ancient Elven civil wars and that the nations of Aryvandaar, Keltormir, Miyeritar, Illefarn, Ilythiir and Shantel Othreier were the main protagonists. And furthermore that the Daemonfey were once members of the house of Aryvandaar, though the events depicted in the tapestry happened over ten thousand years before the D’lardrageth’s had even thought to consort with the demonic hosts of the Abyss. On the other wall hung a painting, one that appeared slightly unusual in a way that was virtually impossible to put ones finger on… Peering closely into the room another door on the far side could be see, though thankfully on this occasion it appeared to have a handle carved from sapphire or some other blue stone. Above the door in Elvish hung a sign that read “Only through harmony can one achieve power” , proof as if any were needed that the tower was not originally owned by the Fey’ri… |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 12 2006, 08:50 PM Post #16 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Watching with interest and feeling a little glowing feeling in her chest for being able to help constructively, Fade watched in interest as the spells were cast on the door and the ensuing light show. When the door finally opened fully revealing it's gem-like interior, the fey'ri thief couldn't help letting a low, soft whistle escape from her lips. "My, my...." she murmured to herself as she entered the building, trailing her fingers along one of the facets of the gemstone structure with a greedy gleam of avarice in her crimson eyes. "So very gaudy...and yet it works for me on so many levels..." Slowly, she looked for chinks and faults in the jewel-walls - anything that could indicate traps or hidden doors, all the while secretly hoping that a few good carats would just 'fall off' into her hands. She had little interest in the tapestries or the contents of the bookshelves; sure, she could probably get a good price for them flogging them off to some Waterdhavian fop, but the slightly deranged magpie instinct that she had nurtured and perfected whilst living with the Luskan thieves meant she simply couldn't take her eyes off the glittering walls of the entryway. Slowly, she made her way over to the sapphire - handled door, all the while keeping a close eye out for anything unusual that may indicate danger. Surreptitiously, she checked it - not just for traps and to see if it was locked, but also for the way it was fastened to the door, completely intending to pocket the gemstone handle if it did just so happen to oh so accidently end up loose in her hands. Briefly, she glanced up at the sign above the door.. "Power through harmony?" she grinned, speaking quietly to herself again "You can keep that. Power through collecting vast amounts of personal wealth is more my motto..." With that, she focused her attention back to the door handle. "...and speaking of such..." |
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| Castamir | Oct 13 2006, 01:22 PM Post #17 |
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Native
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Skafloc watched the spells being discharged at the door, and the symbols lighting up. He could just about recognise the shape of his own name written in the common tongue, there had been some elders in his tribe that had carved symbols into weapons and the like to give them power, but he had been brought up a warrior, and writing would have been a pointless exercise. He gave a satisfied grunt as the door moved, understanding that each spell had triggered each of the symbols, for him it was proof that the group was well balanced - if small, sure he'd have liked another sturdy blade at his side, but in an urban or confined landscape, the group as it was - especialy with this new elf, was definitely a force to be reckoned with. This talk of the Fey'ri 'playing' with them bothered him not - most of the more powerful foes he'd battled had been convinced of their immense superiority, and it was usually in a small group like this - and occasionally alone - that he'd had the distinct satisfaction of placing their head on a spike as a warning to others. He followed the group throught the door, axe ready, and cast an eye about for danger, blissfully ignorant of the decor, his eye not even turned by the lavish and probably expensive details, none of which had any real value to the northman, who's interest in enriching his life with material wealth ranked very low indeed. |
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| Pamela | Oct 13 2006, 06:23 PM Post #18 |
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Molly
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Llana slowly climbed up the ramp, wary of the steam that was pouring out. She noted the soothing scents and the beautiful décor but wasn’t reassured or lulled by it. She was given pause when she saw the tapestry, and realised the room hadn’t belonged to the fey’ri after all, in millennia past. It had been something they had either inherited or stolen. The wonder was that they had let the tapestry stand; it was perhaps a matter of ironic humour. Her eyes were drawn back to the painting, trying to figure out why it caught her eye. She caught her breath, and then watched in some astonishment as the wind began to stir the boughs in the painting. How wonderful, she thought mutely, and then forced her attention back to the task at hand. She reached in the bag which hung on her left hip, and produced, almost comically, a tall staff. She went over towards Skafloc, and murmured, “Excuse me,” as she lay a hand on his bicep. A brief chant, and energy flowed from the staff and through her other hand, alleviating some of the damage the barbarian had suffered so far. She then lay the hand at the base of her own throat and cast another spell. This enemy promised to be much more dangerous than the rest, and it was best to be in as good a shape as they could be for it. She waited for Fade to finish her examination of the door, and listened for any noises from above. “What if they choose to cause another earthquake,” she quietly asked. “If they can teleport in and out…?” |
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| Pamela | Oct 13 2006, 06:39 PM Post #19 |
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Molly
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Posting for Darkwind Avelaer gestured for the rest to enter the room before him, keeping any eye out for any sudden appearances of the magical pair. The moon elf took in the surroundings with some awe; the tower and its furnishings were both exquisite and old. He turned at the Sunite’s gasp, first checking to see if she was alright and then what had caused her to react so. His features softened at the painting; it was uncommon, but he had seen similar works before and he turned to take a glance outside before remarking in a low voice, approaching her, “It’s been created to reflect the current seasons- this actual moment. See the rain that’s starting to fall…?” He gestured back towards the door, where the first drops were descending from the heavy, turbulent clouds. And look where it got you, Greg wryly thought to himself at Fade’s proclaimed motto. But he said nothing; he felt the proclamation was more an act of bravado. Otherwise, she’d hardly have ended up in her present circumstances…and that was reassuring to know, in a way. He looked over at Llana when he heard her query and remarked, “If that’s the case, we’ll do the same as before.” He made a mental note to himself to reserve one spell specifically for that case. If the fey’ri had decided to abandon this fortress, they’d have little reason to care about keeping the tower going, especially if they knew they were being pursued. He hoped that their interest in teasing prey would encourage them to wait till the last minute…hopefully after their last breath, if they all had anything to say about it. He grinned as he added, "It's kind of nice to have so many people hanging on to my every word..." |
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| eocine | Oct 13 2006, 08:28 PM Post #20 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Much in the manner of a shadow Karosin reappeared close by everyone else as the spell casting ended, watching Llana as she moved forwards to cast the final spell, Slay Living. That particular spell had been a point of discussion between them at one stage, simply because he saw it as an invaluable weapon in the worst of circumstances, but Llana viewed it instead as skating the edges of what was a reasonable level of necromancy to carry out. Of course as something of an arch-pragmatist the assassin had seen it rather differently and felt that the ability to slay a man with a touch was actually vital to her safety in battle. Besides which in battle why differentiate between methods of ending another’s life? He saw no real difference between slitting a sleeping man’s throat and killing him in a duel, and that was more or less the crux of the argument. Either you fight to win or you really shouldn’t fight at all. As the door opened he detected the scents on the air and waved his hand in front of his face with a frown. Air that smelt strongly could easily be disguising a gas of some kind, and he wasn’t overly happy with the idea of that… He peered cautiously into the room, waiting till everyone but Avelaer was in the room before following behind, recognising that it made most sense for the blade-singer to keep the eye out behind where his bow could make a difference before any enemies could suddenly be on top of them. It was perhaps curious that he himself didn’t have a ranged weapon with him other than his daggers, which could only be used then at a far shorter range. One of the skills he intended on learning next was the use of the hand crossbows that he’d seen becoming more and more prevalent, but until then he didn’t want to be encumbered by having to carry around a hunk of wood like a full sized bow or cross-bow if he could avoid it. Once inside the room he looked around carefully, the tapestry caught his eye for a second, but whatever was going on there was entirely unfamiliar to him. Similarly the bookshelf meant nothing to him as he didn’t speak Elvish, ditto the writing over the doorway. Much as Fade had done he looked closely for any signs of anything out of the ordinary but there was nothing to be seen as far as he was concerned. He didn’t pay any attention to the healing and the discussion about the possibility of another Earthquake spell striking down the building that they were in, instead he joined Fade by the door, again there seemed to be no traps that either he nor Fade could detect. “You can steal it once we've used it..." He said with an inclination of his head towards the sapphire handle. This statement unlike the majority of his words to Fade wasn’t actually said in an overly unpleasant tone, rather it was delivered flatly, as one who is more than used to the reality of theft as an every day occurrence might request. |
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| eocine | Oct 13 2006, 08:56 PM Post #21 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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The door swung open easily as the handle was turned, and revealed a staircase that went up into the gem even deeper. This was carved with such astonishing care that it would perhaps seem that it might shatter under the weight of some of the heavier members of the party, whilst at the same time perhaps being stronger than steel… This spiraling staircase was to their left as they entered, straight ahead though was another door, and to the right one more, both though had the same blue gem door handles as the one that they had just opened. It seemed that the sole security measure thus far had been the magical lock on the outside. |
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| Pamela | Oct 14 2006, 09:33 AM Post #22 |
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Molly
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Posting for Darkwind “This tower is alive with arcane; I think it’ll take more than one spell, even one as powerful as that, to topple it,” Avelaer remarked, but his tone was assuring, without any hint of condescension. He followed Karosin into the small hall, taking in the stairwell and the two doors. “I suggest that we head upstairs. Even if there are enemies in that room, it’ll limit how many of them will be able to climb the stairs after us…” He looked up at the stairs winding their way up the tower to some unknown destination about forty feet above. “We can also spread out on the staircase or even just fly up or climb the walls,” he said with a nod to Karosin. Greg was divided in his own opinion. He doubted that their foes were sitting in one of the lower rooms; the shard was likely to be well-hidden or at least, trapped, at the top. But being caught between two enemies, one above and below, was dangerous. There was also the possibility that the fey’ri would do the unexpected- or that they had already taken the shard, and it was in their teleporting foes’ possession. He decided to wait to hear the others’ arguments before making his own decision. Just as long as we make a decision quickly, and not watch it be taken out of our hands... |
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| Pamela | Oct 14 2006, 09:45 AM Post #23 |
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Molly
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Llana stepped cautiously into the room, then touched her holy symbol. “Bright-eyed Goddess, may your sight inspire mine..” she chanted quietly, as her hand rose to touch her eyes, then gesture towards the door opposite her. If she saw nothing, she would suggest they move on; and if she saw something, she’d relay how strong the creature was in its vile nature. A fey’ri would radiate like a beacon- an evil one, at least- she amended, thinking of Fade. Now to hope these doors aren’t warded against these magics- or that the shard is able to prevent it... She let her gaze focus on the first door, then moved to stand to be able to see through the other, before finally turning her gaze upwards at the staircase. She would not be able to see any invisible creatures’ exact location, but she would at least be able to sense if there was any threat on their ascent. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 14 2006, 09:54 AM Post #24 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Satisfied that there were no traps and that it wasn't locked, Fade pushed the door open. She glanced in Karosin's direction at his remark, but said nothing. She gave the handle a longing look - she knew of a good dwarven gemsmith who would soon be able to carve the handles into decent sized cut-gems ready for setting into jewellery and a silversmith who sold relatively cheap silver chains and settings; with a little bit of capital to pay both artificers for their time, she could have turned a tidy profit on just one of these handles - but the greater sense of urgency to find out where Vaerilmor teleported to eventually overrode her desire for sparkly things. Still, you never knew... there may be an opportunity to prise these off later she reasoned. Still feeling a little distracted by the glittering walls and the prospect of facing Vaerilmor and possibly others of her kin after so long, Fade tried her very best to concentrate on looking for anything out of the ordinary. She chose the spiral staircase, kidding herself that she was checking it to ensure it was safe for the others. Creeping up the stairs, she tried to filter out the sounds of the others below and listened, her hands on the hilts of her swords, just in case there was anyone above. And if there wasn't, well, you never did know... there might be a few nice, shiny baubles left lying around in need of a good home. |
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| eocine | Oct 14 2006, 10:17 AM Post #25 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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In a manner of speaking Llana’s gaze penetrated the crystal doorways easily. Whilst she was unable to actually see through them, she was never the less able to sense that there was a small amount of evil energy that still lingered behind the first of the doors. Yet the aura that was detected was too weak to be even the weakest of demons, rather the aura indicated to her that there had once been a creature in the room, but that it had since left the area. Unfortunately she was unable to discern the power of the creature or even how long ago it had been there. Nevertheless though at least she now knew that the room would be safe to enter into or ignore if they do decided. --------- As Fade reached the top of the stairway she could instantly see that she was in a large circular room, a room that was far too large to actually fit inside the crystal ‘naturally’. Before her was a huge silver platform, that had the same markings on it as had been visible outside of the crystal. The ancient Netherese symbols for all of the schools of arcane. Much like their external counterparts these sigils were lifeless and dead. Encircling the room were eight doors, each marked with one of the symbols, and more than that written in Elvish were the names of each of the magical disciplines. Abjuration, Divination, Necromancy, Illusion, Transmutation, Evocation, Conjuration and Enchantment. All of these doors were double leaved affairs, that looked delicate enough for Skafloc to sunder with a single axe blow, but perhaps to do that would on some level be sacrilegious, for they were perfectly carved and as wonderful a piece of architecture as even the Elves could make. Floating around at the top of the room was a curious silvery mist, that passed over itself in a vaguely hypnotic way, endlessly forming tendrils and shapes that were there and gone in an instant, only to reform again and again in an eternal dance of motion. |
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| eocine | Oct 14 2006, 12:24 PM Post #26 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As Fade climbed up the stairs Karosin ignored her, if she wanted to go on ahead that was her prerogative, but it was entirely certain that if she did start screaming out for assistance that he wouldn’t be flinging himself up the stairs to help. Still they probably couldn’t afford to lose her at the moment as she at least actually knew the faces of the enemy and that counted for something at least… He turned to Skafloc and then tilted his head in the direction of the stairs… “Could you please follow our impetuous companion and make sure that she doesn’t do anything overly stupid whilst we examine down here?” He enquired of the massive barbarian before turning back towards Llana. “Anything?” He asked once she had scanned the first door for a few moments. She shook her head to indicate otherwise and so he gave the door a cursory check and then pulled the handle and pushed the door open with his boot in case of any kind of sudden surprise that may have eluded him. |
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| eocine | Oct 14 2006, 12:25 PM Post #27 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As the door swung open it was instantly clear that they were looking into a bathroom, an empty bath carved of the crystal sat to one side, and was comfortably large enough to allow fifteen people to bathe with plenty of room. There were also other, smaller pools around the room, as well as a series of mirrors that were so perfectly set into crevasses in the stone that they appeared to be entirely natural. The whole room was scented with a clean and crisp lemon like smell, and though the floor beneath them was crystal if any were to have placed a and onto it they would have found that it was warm to the touch. There were no cosmetics nor bottles of scent visible, for it was not the Elven way, but there was nevertheless an intangible sense of freshness to the whole room, and the feeling that any steam inside would instantly dissipate. |
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| Pamela | Oct 14 2006, 02:17 PM Post #28 |
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Molly
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Posting for Darkwind “It’s all right; I’ll go,” Avelaer remarked, annoyed at Karosin’s orders. They were wasting precious time, and Fade had the right idea. He went quickly upstairs, assured that the rogue would have eliminated any traps along the way, and soon stood beside the pale-skinned fey’ri. He blinked at the room’s size, wondering if this was some odd illusion before realising that it was another example of the powerful magics at work in the maintenance of the tower. All these centuries neglected, to be found by these… He gave up trying to find the word to describe the demonkin when he saw the sigil on the floor. Not again, he thought with some frustration until he saw the doors. Had this been some ancient college, or perhaps a home for masters of the arcane arts? He studied the symbols; they matched the doors that lay behind each one etched into the floor. He looked up at the ceiling and studied the mist. It stirred some memory of an object he’d once heard mentioned, decades ago, and frowned. “It looks like we might have to cast another series of spells, unless the fey’ri’ve been kind enough to leave us some kind of keys behind those doors.” He gestured at the mist. “It’s an ethereal barrier. We can’t teleport up without knowing where we’re going, and that’s ensured that our sorcerer won’t be able to sneak a peek at his surroundings. There might be windows for us to climb up and out, but I don’t recall seeing anything like that from the outside.” He turned to Fade. “So, do we wait for the others to waste their time with the doors downstairs, or shall we try to take a look ourselves?” Greg shook his head at the splitting up of the party. When in doubt, remain with the healer; you’d quickly recover from your mistakes, he reflected to himself. Or at least have a chance not to die from them, most of the time… He was relieved at the hint that there was nothing behind one of the doors, and while he waited for the Sunite to give her verdict on the other door, watched with curiosity as Karosin opened the door. He suddenly laughed at the absurdity of the scene before him, and remarked aloud, “If anyone has to go before we head upstairs, now’s the time...” |
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| Pamela | Oct 15 2006, 07:49 AM Post #29 |
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Molly
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Llana nodded vaguely at Karosin’s question, still focusing on the other door. This one was the same; nothing present, except the aural footprints revealing a former summoning’s presence- or the same one. Her attention then turned upwards, then back into the lobby they’d entered. She broke her concentration, turning to the others that were still downstairs. She smiled at Greg’s question, merely shaking her head as she returned to more pressing if less earthly concerns. “There’s signs of seven- or fourteen- demons. None of them went outside, and it’s too recent- or powerful- to have been any of the demons we saw in the tower. They’ve gone upstairs…or perhaps came from there, came down, and teleported back.” |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 15 2006, 10:23 AM Post #30 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Sensing rather than hearing that someone was behind her, Fade glanced over her shoulder. On seeing the elf, she turned back and couldn't help but roll her eyes a little - she had wondered if he would be a little propriatory about this place, given its heritage; to see another fey'ri in here must really be grating on his nerves. "It's okay... I'm not going to smash the furniture and scribble on the walls" she quipped in a sing-song voice "I'll treat this place with the respect it deserves, I promise." At that promise, she sighed a little - bang goes the prospect of a good hundred carats of high quality sapphire... "I just came up here to see ifthere was any sign of that bastard Vaerilmor." she gestured at the oddly hypnotic mist "I'm guessing that's his doing. D'you know what it is?" She watched as the bladesinger made his way towards the symbols. "Same as the one's on the outer door." she offered. "Same schools. Same order, too." she folded her arms over her chest as she listened to Avelaer's musings and explanation of the mist, and then looked up at the ethereal barrier. "Wouldn't put it past Vaerilmor to have locked it all up again. He'll want us to waste as many of our spell energy as possible before we face him. IF he's actually up there." Her top lip curled into sneer "Always was a bloody coward..." At Avelaer's question as what to do next, she offered him a sly smile. "As they 'waste their time', huh? You're almost as desperate to skewer this bastard as I am, aren't you?" she winked at the elf. "I'm all for having a look ourselves. He who dares, wins - right?" |
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| eocine | Oct 15 2006, 10:47 AM Post #31 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin said nothing to Greg’s jest, instead turning to the next door and pushing it open as well, the crystal door opened easily to reveal a small crystal font on one wall, as well as a series of cloth sacks and a small circular oven. There were also fresh herbs and spices growing in a small perfectly formed patch of earth in the far corner. If this was a kitchen then it was a kitchen like none of the humans had ever seen before, indeed this was cooking area created by Elves and for Elves. “Well I’d have to consider this to have been wasted effort…” Still, at least we’re now sure that there’s nothing going to be following us up the stairs. “Wherever they are we really should move on now.” He said with some distaste as he allowed the crystal door to click closed again. Thus far he couldn’t hear anything going on upstairs, which probably only meant that they hadn’t touched anything yet. As they prepared to go up the stairs he turned to the sorcerer, “the door hasn’t closed yet, and I’m not overly eager to be followed up these stairs by anything else that may be creeping around this place, do you have any way of blocking up the stairs behind us?” |
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| Pamela | Oct 15 2006, 12:41 PM Post #32 |
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Molly
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Posting for Darkwind What’s her problem? Avelaer wondered to himself as he caught her glance in his direction. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he called up to her. “Corpses leave stains, and I intend on thanking my hosts in turn for their show of hospitality,” he added grimly, shoving aside the memories of the last few days. “I’ll be very happy to see their blood, be it on the floor, the walls or the furnishings.” He’d nodded at her recognition of the symbols, and grimaced at her description- and his fears- of Vaerilmor’s plans. “Unfortunately, we don’t seem to have many options except to sit back and wait for him to get bored. Or worse, create more problems for us.” He grinned at her as he fervently replied, “You could say, that yes…” He then returned the wink as he added, “Normally, I’d be more than happy to give a lady the right of way but I have a tendency to being impatient when it comes to revenge. However…” he made a flourishing bow, and gestured to the nearest door on their left, “Do be my guest…” He smiled warmly, “If only because you’re better at dealing with traps than I am.” The door bore the ancient Netherese symbol for divination. “And he who dares also gets to call dibs on the trophies. I’m not a paladin after all,” he added with a smile. |
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| Pamela | Oct 15 2006, 12:53 PM Post #33 |
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Molly
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Llana shook her head and replied to reassure her husband, “Not a waste of time; merely a matter of caution.” She nodded however at his suggestion that they hurry upstairs. She didn’t like the group splitting up this way, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt the spell for the sake of yet another argument. Let them be fine, she thought to herself as she began the ascent. She heard the bladesinger’s last words and thought, Thank heavens, but called out, “We’re on our way up now…” The soft pink glow of the quartz was reminiscent of her temple, as were the exquisite if elvish furnishings. Hanali Cenalil, then, she amended to herself, but it jarred her to think of the horrors that had been caused here. Graceful, lovely, and cruel as cats, she thought to herself. |
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| Pamela | Oct 15 2006, 01:10 PM Post #34 |
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Molly
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Posted for Darkwind Greg listened carefully to Llana’s description of what lay ahead, hoping that they’d be dealing with the lesser number. He had nothing against a good fight, but he was getting concerned about the way they were being toyed with. The tower was high, and the next level wasn’t very far. They’d been lucky to have nothing here, but he doubted that this would be the case for their whole journey upwards. “We’ll find out soon enough about their numbers.” He smiled gently as he remarked, “Though I personally don’t plan to question them about how they made their way up myself.” He looked at the kitchen. While it was attractive in its own way, it also seemed overly elaborate. The presence of the crystal furnishings, while stylish, were excessive. Whatever this ancient society had been, good or bad, it had had way too much time on its hands to devote it to such ornamentation. He said nothing at the dark-haired rogue’s muttering; he hadn’t been looking forward to an ambush, and knew now at least that it wasn’t going to happen. As he began to follow the others up the stairs, he turned at Karosin’s suggestion and nodded. When everyone was upstairs, he turned, and once more a web arose, filling up the bottom of the staircase and most of the small hall. |
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| eocine | Oct 15 2006, 02:21 PM Post #35 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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He came up last behind the others, walking backwards up the steps as he did so and keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of someone following behind them and attacking on the stairs. The reason behind doing this was simple, he trusted his own footwork in the close confines of the stairwell far more than he would have trusted anyone else’s. In a few moments though they were up at the top of the stairs, and he gave a rare nod of thanks to the sorcerer as Greg plugged the stairwell. That would at least give him some peace of mind that anything following them up would have to force its way through the sticky strands before it could deal with them. Once he had turned away from the plugged up stairwell he turned to the others, taking in the room and the fact that the markings were the same as those outside, and guessing what that meant. As he watched he could see Fade examining the first door carefully for traps, it seemed however that she found nothing. He approached carefully but stepped to the side of the Fey’ri and pressed his ear against the door, there was however nothing to be heard from the other side. “Everybody ready?” Asked the assassin as he grasped one side of the door and gestured for Jonas to grab the other. |
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| Castamir | Oct 15 2006, 08:39 PM Post #36 |
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Native
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Skafloc grunted an affirmative at Karosin's request, though only moved to the bottom of the stairs initially, pausing as the other door was opened, and as Avelear passed nodded at him, still waiting until he was sure that nothing was going to happen on the floor he was on. He was sure if there was anything Fade and Avelear couldn't handle immediately, they could at least hold their ground long enough for the Barbarian to sprint up the stairs, and he was equally sure he could get through the door to assist the others too. Only when he was sure nothing was going to happen did he sprint up the stairs, taking two at a time until he was stood alongside the fey'ri and the elf, an unlikely alliance. He caught the end of their conversation and wrapped on the axehead of brainbiter with his knuckles. "My axe would be greatly disapponted should you only divide them up between the two of you, and I would be personally insulted should I be denied my share of carnage." Despite her lack of control, he liked the way this Fey'ri's mind worked, and judging by this elf's intent to sate his thirst for revenge upon his tormentors, he was probably going to like him too. Skafloc understood revenge. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 15 2006, 09:09 PM Post #37 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Initially, Fade grinned at Avelear's response to her question, glad that he did seem to have some measure of a sense of humour after all. At the elf's eagerness for revenge, however, the fey'ri found she could say nothing. Whether she liked to admit it or not, she knew far too well what her people were capable of and could only imagine too easily what he had been put through over the last few days. Briefly, she laid a hand upon his forearm and nodded once without smiling, simply so that he knew that she did understand his need and that it was no joking matter, no matter how much she may jest about it. Some things, she had decided long ago, were better disguised with humour - it made them easier to deal with - but at the same time, there were times when even she realised that humour was inappropriate. As the barbarian joined them, she quickly snapped out of her momentary seriousness and offered him a wry grin, knowing well his own need to carnage. "I'm sure we'll have much need for that hulking great axe of yours soon enough" she nudged him in the ribs in mock admonishment "just as long as you allow me to have the last say, okay?" As quickly as her good humour had come, it left her again. "This goes way beyond mere revenge" she said quietly "I don't mean to belittle anything you've been through, Avelaer, nor your thirst for glory, Skafloc... it is simply that this is a family matter. Vaerilmor is... was... Vaerilmor..." she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I just have a few demons to exorcize. Pun intended." She then stepped towards the door and began examining it, checking it for traps, be they mechanical or magical. When Karosin joined her at the door, she said nothing to the assassin, but just shook her head. She then took a step backwards, away from the door, and unsheathed her blades, her tail twitching in anticipation as she waited for the doors to be opened. |
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| eocine | Oct 15 2006, 09:14 PM Post #38 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Recognising that everyone was in place Karosin and Jonas pulled the doors open... |
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| eocine | Oct 15 2006, 09:16 PM Post #39 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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There was the rushing sound of air suddenly being released from confinement as the doors were opened, and the scent of ancient and dry air was suddenly upon the party. In moments though the odor had vanished as the high hallway they were in circulated it outside and away from them. There was no sudden out rushing of hordes of enemies, nor the sound of a spell-caster in action, rather there was a continued silence from the apparently empty room. The very stillness was palpable, though occasionally there was the rustling of paper as the motion of the air generated by the doors opening circulated in a room that had been entirely without movement in what could easily have been millennia. As one who had spent time working on gaining an understanding of magical theory Avelaer could see immediately that this was an arcane laboratory, the type that has been used over innumerable years to study and develop the Arts Arcanum. There were various bookcases and benches everywhere that were covered in parchments and other magical paraphernalia. Crossing the threshold of the room brought the sounds of no alarm nor any other reaction, it seemed entirely that the room was both uninhabited and unguarded. Perhaps there had at one stage been a series of safeguards that had protected this room and that they had since been eroded by the sands of time, or perhaps the presence of whoever had once studied in this room had been protection enough at one time. One curiosity though must have been that this room hadn’t been more fully examined by the Fey’ri… If the overriding colour of the crystal-tower itself was a pinkish red then in the case of this room it was most assuredly white, ivory and clear gemstones dominated the decorations, and the floor itself was a perfectly smooth single piece of polished white marble that was totally undamaged and still sparkled freely. Above their heads was the same sigil for divination that had been on the door and the entrance to the crystal both. Unlike the others though this one was lit brightly, and bathed the room in a clean white light that caused the exposed parts of the skin to feel as they would under the summer sun, a feeling of warmth and light both intermingled into one feeling of wellbeing. All around the circular room ran an exquisite stucco representation of a dragon, from the tip of its tail to its sleek head. The stucco itself was run through with strands of filigreed silver, so give the image a gleam that would otherwise have been lost. The blade-singer however would have been able to tell the type of dragon that the image represented even if the coloring hadn’t given it away, for he had recognised that the shape of the dragon’s head was unique to silver dragons. The stucco started at the ceiling, and then dropped down to around seven feet above the floor, leaving ample room beneath it for bookshelves of various sorts to line the walls without disturbing the artwork. On these shelves were many tomes on the theories of the school of divination magic, and they were written in a variety of languages. It went without saying that Elven was the predominant language, but draconic, illuskan, netherese and several other languages were also comparatively common. Curiously atop several of the bookshelves were more dragons, these however were small objects crafted from silver, pewter and the like, some of them even holding gaudy gemstones in their miniature claws as a real dragon would perhaps clutch his horde to him as he slept. There was even one single piece of scrimshaw that was the size of a Halfling and carved into the exact shape of a dragon’s head, but in this case the eyes were firmly set diamonds, finally a bas-relief carving of the birth of a baby dragon on a real dragon egg completed the curious collection. On the far side of the room was another distinctly unusual sight, a substantial rack of wines, one that emitted a distinct chill. Underfoot before the wine rack broken glass crunched underfoot, and a red wine spill marred the otherwise flawless marble of the floor. The labels were all peeling away from the bottles and in several cases the delicate Elven script that had labeled the bottles had been utterly faded away into nothingness by the years spent in this room. There was a writing desk nestled between two bookshelves on the left side of the room, and it appeared to have been carved from white ash, for it too was pale and exceptionally delicate looking. Still it had survived the years without accumulating so much as a dent, so it was presumably magical in some way or another. There were various papers scattered over the desk, which had lines and lines on divination, written in a perfectly metered hand. One sentence drew the eye of all of the Elven readers in the group as they passed their eyes over the paperwork, seeming to jump up from the page at them. I have foreseen my death, but will not fight it when the time comes, for my sight has transcended this realm, and I long for my peace in arvundor, perhaps there I shall finally know the joy of surprise… Other than that there was a golden quill laying on the desk, as well as a curious miniature harp, about twelve inches high that was made entirely out of silver. There were also two open books laying flat on the desk, the first entitled ‘Temporal Chronomancy and Divination’, the second, ‘The History of Draconis Silveri’ To the side of the desk stood a curious object, it was a tube, covered in hair and with feathers running through it. As Skafloc passed by the thing he was able to identify it as an owl-bear’s foot, though quite what it was doing hollowed out and then filled up with screwed up bits of ink covered paper by the side of a mage’s desk was certainly a strange one. Dead center of the room was a single crystal ball, set on a silvery pedestal that had been worked into the shape of yet another dragon, this one holding the crystal ball in its mouth. It was easy to see though that the ball wasn’t active, and indeed hadn’t been in some time due to the crack that ran straight through it, rendering the magical scrying object utterly useless. Four tables encircled the crystal ball, on the first was set a single dining place, where a knife and fork were carefully set either side of a marble dinner mat. To the side of that a small notepad and a quill lay, and there was a crystal glass, with red wine residue dried out inside. Two of the other tables were covered with the detritus of magical study, scrolls and books everywhere, but beneath the final table was a huge pile of papers almost a foot high and the width of a small rug. In common with virtually every other piece of paper in the room the parchment was yellow with age, but there was more, a kind of dirty brown that mottled through some of the sheets… Beneath that though, Fade could see a series of ancient bones protruding…. |
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| Castamir | Oct 15 2006, 10:26 PM Post #40 |
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Native
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At the rebel fey'ri's words, despite their intended good humour, something inside Skafloc's eyes changed at the mention of it being 'a family matter'. As if his brain had short circuited, leaving a void that was instantly filled with something that wasn't quite rage, but still had his hugely muscled frame tensing as if about to launch into some sort of melee. But no sooner had the tension in the warrior gathered, like the air before a lightning strike, it was gone, a weak but well meaning smile on his lips. "Aye, I'll not stand in the way of a family matter." he said, nodding, but avoiding all eye contact, as if embarrassed, or perhaps wary of losing control again. He was relieved at the door opening, his mind once more back on the task in hand. A task that, just like nearly everything the warrior did was entirely a family matter - his continued existence was a bloody minded refusal to roll over and die, and his every 'glory' a tribute to his people, and in particular his family - because he didn't know what else he was supposed to do. In the room he looked hard at everything, and though he comprehended none of the symbols or meanings he was careful to not disturb anything the magic users might find useful. He was mildly disappointed he had nothing to hit - for he suddenly had that thirst again, that savage and overriding desire to punish those that would stand in his path with death, and though his grip on brainbiter was intense, and his visage severe, his breathing was even and measured as he hung desperately onto that part of him that could be considered civilised. |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 16 2006, 07:31 AM Post #41 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas stepped into the room and looked around, his hands at the hilts of his daggers. "Well... would you look at that..." he said quietly, mostly to himself, as he marvelled at the decorations set around the room. After he had read the paper on the desk, he glanced at the others. "Whoever wrote this, did not seem to have a peaceful life." he looked around the room. "But this person sure did have a liking for dragons." |
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| Pamela | Oct 16 2006, 05:22 PM Post #42 |
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Molly
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Posting for Darkwind Avelaer smiled at the barbarian’s interjection and remarked, “Considering what we’ve seen so far, there’s more than enough to go around.” He was rather surprised and impressed by Skafloc’s reaction. Many barbarians in the Marches liked to keep aloof, and had a hard time cooperating with those who were not of their tribes, let alone of their own kind. He was unable to recognise his tattoos and markings however, and wondered if he came from over the Spine of the World. He heard Fade, but he was unable to say anything in response to her quiet plea. He didn’t want to deprive her of her own desire for revenge, understanding that her cause was as good as his, and possibly better due to the previous relationships. But he also wasn’t going to agree to a suggestion that he didn’t trust himself to keep. Arguing over it was a waste of time; their foe was obviously able to handle himself well, and they would need everyone’s help for that particular encounter as it was. His curiosity however was piqued. He waited until the door was open and their peaceful contents revealed, then quietly approached the rogue. He gently asked in a low voice, “I know we don’t have time for a long discussion, but I have been wondering- how long have your people been living here? And how have they kept their presence such a well-hidden secret from the Silver Marches?” Avelaer’s captors hadn’t been interested in revealing anything about themselves except their appetite for debasement. He assumed that somehow the fey’ri had been living for millennia in Elvenport. He found it an incredible idea, simply because he couldn’t imagine them not having caused trouble during all those centuries, let alone avoiding notice all that time. As he spoke, his eyes wandered over the parchments hungrily, hoping that there were spells buried in there that they’d be able to use. The lore buried in these books would be highly sought in Silverymoon and beyond; if they could emerge with most of these belongings- and themselves- unscathed, it would be a blessing. |
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| Pamela | Oct 16 2006, 05:47 PM Post #43 |
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Molly
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In a desire not to dwell upon the fey’ri and to put her spell to good use, Llana resumed her inspection of the surroundings. The demonic auras went from the stairs to the symbol in the middle of the room. She had known before the door opened that there was nothing evil in the room; not that it meant they were necessarily spared any dangers. As the others went into the diviners’ study, she turned her attention to the other doors, one by one. The room with the conjurer’s symbol was awash with evil; the auras oddly fluctuated in strength and power. The constant throughout it was there were always at least three overwhelmingly evil presences. The necromantic study had two presences; one powerful, and the other as strong as those in the conjurers’ room. The door marked with symbols for transmutation had five figures, but none of them were particularly menacing. This exercise took nearly five minutes of concentrated silence, in which she carefully positioned herself to peer at each door and through them. Her attention remained vaguely on the others, listening for any sound of trouble. |
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| Pamela | Oct 16 2006, 06:20 PM Post #44 |
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Molly
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Posting for Darkwind The spell cast, Greg walked up the stairs and positioned himself to stand fifteen feet behind Avelaer and Skafloc while the rogues dealt with the door. He nodded at Karosin’s question, his hands ready to weave themselves into an incantation if required. The hiss of the opening door had his hands rising up, but he lowered them as the stillness made itself felt. The pristine sense of bareness lifted as he saw the predominance of white. His lips quirked into a smile as he stepped into the room and saw the plethora of dragons. “That’s putting it mildly,” he replied to Jonas, and stopped to admire the stucco and silver representation of a dragon. So beautiful in itself…why couldn’t the owner just have stopped there? He smiled as he considered describing the room to the Mistmaster as recommendations for future renovations. His deathless flesh was unable to appreciate the physical warmth of the room but he wasn’t immune to the sense of peace and brightness which exuded from these long vacated surroundings. He laughed when he saw the ingenious wastepaper basket, and smiled at the gaudy little dragons on the mantle. His thoughts turned to Cherissa, and he palmed one of the pewter ones. Neither the gems nor the metal were valuable, but he imagined how tickled she would be to imagine some long-dead diviner, supposedly austere, cherishing such a simple ornament. It’s a shame that I will never know him, he thought to himself, and wondered at the eccentric but joyous being that must have lived here. He then turned his attention to the books; his linguistic skills were poor, but he wanted to see if there were any texts in the celestial tongue. The work would undoubtedly be priceless if it ever went to market. But his own interest was personal: to be able to share this unusual wizard’s pleasure, a quiet toast to the survival of his ancient library, and his own memory. |
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| eocine | Oct 16 2006, 08:39 PM Post #45 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin waited till the others had entered the room, and until he was entirely sure that there was nothing dangerous about to happen before he moved towards where Llana was examining the other rooms for signs of evils within. He decreed to wait with her, saying nothing as she completed her magical sweep, not willing to leave her exposed to any potential dangers whilst the rest of the group were collected in one place. More than that though the time he had allowed him to ponder a few things that he’d been forced to file away by the urgency of the mission so far. Firstly, the rest of the Fey’ri had gone, but where? And more importantly perhaps why? Thus far there had been no real clue, the only people they’d spoken to had been the two twisted fey creatures by the springs, but they had clearly been little more than pleasure slaves, and hadn’t been privy to anything that resembled real information. Secondly, why was this Vaerilmor character able to toy with them like this? Did he have nothing else that he should be doing in this time? And if so what did that mean? Had he simply been ordered to stay here until whatever it was the Fey’ri were up to had been completed, or was he just killing idle time till his part in some task was ready for him to carry out? This gains me nothing… Pondered the assassin to himself, before reconsidering, if nothing else it was allowing him to draw up a mental checklist of questions that he would want to be ticked off sooner rather than later. At least though the party seemed to be doing reasonably, and he would continue to play his own part as the internal agent provocateur… Mostly because he enjoyed the role, but there was often a tendency amongst the more hot-headed types to lose focus at the wrong times, and he saw one of his key responsibilities as making sure that didn’t happen, or at least that if it did then he’d actually try to steer them back on track. Of course there was always the likelihood that he’d have to do it through an intermediary as the rest of the group weren’t exactly going to be his biggest fans, but then he didn’t much like them either so it all worked out in the end… A faint smile on his lips he rested a hand on one of Llana’s slender shoulders and waited for her to finish… |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 16 2006, 08:40 PM Post #46 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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At the fleetingly odd look that crossed the barbarian's features at the mention of her family, Fade's brow creased in a look of confusion and consternation. Perhaps they are all here due to some horrific crime perpetrated by the fey'ri... there again, why else would they be here? Noting his look of embarrassment, she decided again that some things were best left alone. Tact may not be her strong point, but the possibility of provoking someone who could kill her with one hand tied behind his back was something even the impetuous fey'ri realised could be construed as 'a little bit silly'. Instead, she turned her attention to the newly opened door. After a quick cursory glance, her gaze settled on what looked suspiciously like a pile of old bones partially hidden by some equally ancient parchment. "Looks like the inhabitant of this room never got a chance to leave..." Fade quipped, kneeling down and inspecting the bones the had spotted from the doorway. She lifted some of the parchment that buried the long-dead skeleton. "I wonder if they chose to die here, or were ambushed in some way?" Standing up, she brushed her hands against her thighs and began to inspect the draconic paraphernalia that decorated the walls and shelves of the room. A quick appraisal of the gemstones and metalwork told her that on their own they were worth on a few coins - however, they still had a certain charm, and their age may count in their favour... The rebel fey'ri took down one of the smaller dragon statues and tilted it this way and that for a moment, her attention caught by the glittering of the light off the gaudy facets, as if hypnotised. Then, shaking her head as if uncloud her thoughts, she placed the little statuette back upon its shelf. She didn't answer Avelaer's question for a long moment and just continued to look up at the draconic collection. "I don't know how long they've been here" she answered eventually. "I... left..." she gave the word an odd inflection "about 5 years ago. They hadn't come to Elvenport then - when I was still with them they inhabited Lothen of the Silver Spires since the breakdown of the Hellgate." she shrugged "I honestly don't know what they've been up to for the last 5 years. I wasn't kept informed." she tried hard to keep her voice light, but couldn't help a slight edge of bitterness from entering her tone. With that, she left the room. It was obvious to her that the fey'ri had had no interest in that particular room, and as nice a time capsule as it was, it wasn't giving them any clues to Vaerilmor's whereabouts. Seeing Llana concentrating, she moved over to the Sunite. "Anything?" |
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| Castamir | Oct 16 2006, 08:58 PM Post #47 |
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Native
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"Trinkets and baubles" muttered the northman at the decorations. Nothing that would be of any use to him. He looked at Avelaer and Greg, who were scanning through the paper and books, and figured that they might find something useful, but he doubted it, the room seemed to have been sealed for a long time, and perhaps had never been used by the Fey'ri. He realised he was pacing, and tried to stop, instead standing fidgeting with his axe, as if unable to find a comfortable way to rest, his frustration beginning to tell. He wondered what Fade had been doing for the five years she had been 'away', and surmised that whatever it was had not endeared her to her people at all. The idea of being at such odds with your own kin was almost alien to the barbarian, for whom loyalty to the tribe had always been paramount regardless of the good or ill it caused. But then the Fey'ri did not exactly treat her as one of their own either. he realised, remember just how they had met Fade in the first place. |
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| eocine | Oct 16 2006, 09:33 PM Post #48 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As Jonas moved around the room, carefully passing his eyes over every nook and cranny for anything that had been hidden away that might give them some kind of clue he moved past yet another dragon statue…. This one though looked in some way odd… He turned back more fully to look at it, and saw that it wore a pendant around its silvery neck, a pendant in tiny miniature with the same symbol on it as the ceiling above them. ---------- Greg’s own search of the books wasn’t entirely fruitless either, for there were several tomes that were in the language of the celestials, and in one of them a scroll that would allow him to contact a Djinni, and indeed to summon it to the material plane. In fact it seemed to be a binding contract between the Djinn and the possessor of the book, and would allow the planar being to be summoned once per day by whomsoever possessed the manuscript. ---------- Whilst Avelaer was searching the desk he noticed a number or minor divination scrolls, one of detect magic, two that allowed one to tell the value of goods by touch, and one final omen of peril spell. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Tiefling Jonas puzzling over something… |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 17 2006, 07:31 AM Post #49 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas looked at the pendant around the dragon's neck, but for some reason dared not to touch it. He switched gazes between the pendant and the symbol on the ceiling. He wondered what it all meant. It was the same symbol, so it had to have some sort of meaning... but what? Maybe there were pendants on the other dragons as well. Jonas went towards another dragon statue to see if it had a pendant with the same symbol on it. |
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| Pamela | Oct 17 2006, 05:01 PM Post #50 |
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Molly
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Llana sighed as she finished looking at the last door, and smiling, leaned against her husband’s chest. “Unfortunately, the rest of the rooms aren’t as tranquil as those we’ve seen in here to date.” She described what she had seen, pointing to each door as she described her impressions to her husband and any of the others who were present. “I personally suggest that we deal with the rooms that have no emanations first. They may have dangerous creatures still which aren’t evil, but at least we can take the chance that it may be otherwise. And if they are empty, we can see if there’s anything that we can use with the other rooms.” Assuming, of course, that they don't suddenly spring open on us and we literally have hell on the loose.... |
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| eocine | Oct 17 2006, 08:53 PM Post #51 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin was tall enough to rest his chin atop Llana’s head when she leaned backwards in that way, and he did so now. Looking out over the top of her at the various doors around them, he squinted very slightly and tried to envisage what stood behind them. To be fair he was surprised at the lack of enemies that there seemed to have been in the first room, and wasn’t in the least bit surprised by the presence of what could only be assumed to be hostile beings in several of the other rooms. “It seems to be a reasonable suggestion to me”, he agreed, suspecting though that the barbarian and the Fey’ri would probably argue otherwise, bloodlust and an inability to take a step back and look at things being something that they both shared… “Your opinion?” He asked Fade in a rare moment of wife-inspired civility towards the Fey’ri rebel. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 17 2006, 09:34 PM Post #52 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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On witnessing this quite open sharing of obviously tender feelings, Fade dropped her gaze and looked to the floor, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. The fey'ri had no use for such frivolity and weakness as they saw it, and so any recognition that such emotions even existed had come late in the rogue's life. Violence, fury, greed and all the many different guises lust disguised itself she understood well, but love, in all truthfulness, confused and frightened her, especially of the open, unselfish and honest kind that was being expressed between Karosin and Llana so simply. It just left you vulnerable and open all manner of attacks. "If there is anything behind those doors you've indicated, I'd like to know why they're still there. Why haven't they come out to investigate our search?" She shook her head in exasperation. "My first instinct is to see what - if anything - lies beyond those doors... but on the other hand, I suspect that this is just yet another ploy by Vaerilmor to deplete us of our spell resources and possibly our health, and I certainly don't want to play into his hands. Bombard us with fodder until we're exhausted and then finish the job off - it's the fey'ri way. I've... seen... these tactics before." Fade then looked awkwardly to the floor again, knowing damn well that they would see through the white lie she was telling. She hadn't seen these tactics - she'd employed them herself many times before, firstly during inter-house skirmishes and then on all manner of other unsuspecting folk after the Hellgate fell. |
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| Castamir | Oct 17 2006, 10:23 PM Post #53 |
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Native
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Skafloc wandered over, axe slung over one shoulder and listened to Karosin address Fade again. This time he seemed to not be baiting her, though it all rather depended of Fade answer, which was - reasonably measured. He was wondering what was keeping whatever it was from opening the door itself... "If you are sure that there is a threat behind that door, then what is preventing it from coming out while we are occupied elsewhere and catching us unawares? If there is no way of securing the door, perhaps we should simply deal with it first while we are prepared?" It wasn't a piece of tactical genius, but the northman thought it worth mentioning. |
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| Darkwind | Oct 18 2006, 01:23 AM Post #54 |
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Native
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He looked over the tome and nodded appreciatively. The ability to summon a djinn might seem redundant for someone of his level of arcane power--he knew a spell that could summon several of them at once, though for a shorter period of time--but it was nonetheless a very valuable item, one he would certainly keep. Besides its greater duration, the tome would allow him to save the summoning spell for when it'd be really needed--in battle--and it might well prove useful in some other way. He shrugged when the subject of doors came up. "We'll have to go though each eventually, no? Then I say let's confront the dangerous rooms first. Between all of us, we should be able to handle any one demon. And if we run short of resources like spells--well, I'm sure we've all rested in dangerous surroundings before." He slipped the scrolls into one of the numerous pockets of his enchanted belt and looked curiously at Fade. "I'm sure they didn't just let you walk away, did they? No matter how arrogant they are, they must know secrecy is the only way for them to survive. They must have survived for these millenia by keeping all traces of their existence hidden, if not here then elsewhere." Jonas's actions caught his attention. He gave Fade the universal gesture of 'excuse me, hold that thought' and made his way over to the tiefling's side. "That's a powerful item you've found. It isn't likely to be cursed, but if I was you I wouldn't experiment with it until we have a chance to examine it in detail. Why not just leave it there?" |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 18 2006, 06:51 AM Post #55 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas looked at Avelaer with a slight frown. "I'm not that stupid. I'm more careful than I may seem to you. I'm not even touching it. I haven't even thought of touching, because of what you said." He turned his gaze back at the pendant and the dragon. "There must be something about the item, but we will have to wait until we know for better." Jonas turned his now somewhat angry eyes, yet he wore his smile on his face, which didn't look so friendly at that time. He was hurt of Avelaer's judgment of his intelligence and that had made him angry. "Do you not agree?" |
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| Pamela | Oct 18 2006, 05:43 PM Post #56 |
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Molly
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“I don’t know,” Llana replied to Fade’s and Skafloc’s questions. “They may be waiting for some signal in order to emerge. Or as you suggest,” she nodded to the crimson-haired rogue, “Perhaps they’ve been set there by Vaerilmor and commanded to remain in place till we open the doors. It doesn’t make much sense to me otherwise except as a continuance of the theme of toying with us.” She merely nodded at the rebel’s referral to her former witness of these tactics. She knew fully well from personal experience how people could change, but doubted the fey’ri would want to either dwell on the matter or to discuss it at this time. At Skafloc and Greg’s preference for the ‘dangerous’ rooms she explained, “I personally would like to avoid resting until absolutely necessary, and if I can re-arm myself with spells and scrolls, all the better. We could put the matter to a vote, but why don’t we spare ourselves further arguments and just alternate? One ‘quiet’ room and one ‘busy’ one?” She looked back towards the diviner’s room, where she caught Jonas’ angry tone. Ah well, it has been a whole five minutes of peace, after all, she thought to herself bemusedly. “I would however ask that we do the transmuter’s room first; it’s the least dangerous of the offensive ones, and may not even require magic. If an ambush should start, we’d have the least dangerous evil cornered, and able to focus our attentions on the worst if they emerge. Does that sound fair?” |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 18 2006, 07:31 PM Post #57 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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"More than fair" Fade answered with a nod. She then turned at looked back to the diviner's room, wondering exactly what Avelaer had said to anger the seemingly good-natured tiefling. "Well, 'spose we'd better round up Twinkle and Smiler... it's best that we're all here to face this - whatever it is" she mused to herself. Sticking her head through the door, she gave a low whistle from between her teeth that was loud enough to gain Jonas and Avelaer's attention, but soft enough not to be heard elsewhere. "There's something behind some of the doors - Llana can sense them" she explained. "We're going to investigate. The chances are they're not, but they could be fey'ri" she looked meaningfully at the moon elf. "So, when you're ready..." She then withdrew her head and made her way over to the transmutation door, unsheathing her swords and readying herself for whatever may come through it once it was opened, swallowing down the urge just to kick it down and get stuck in whether the others were ready or not. |
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| eocine | Oct 18 2006, 07:40 PM Post #58 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin could think of numerous reasons why they hadn’t come out to them yet, though none of them were really all that convincing even to him. Having a pitched battle here would deplete their spells as soon as it would them going into the individual rooms. Yet by the same token he couldn’t completely dismiss Fade’s suggestions, after all she did have the benefit of knowing the mage that they were dealing with, and if this kind of ‘test’ was his modus operandi then that did change how things should be viewed. Given that his own past included innumerable killings, as well as tactics that it seemed that even the Fey’ri would probably hesitate to use, Fade’s discomfiture was alien to him. Unlike the fey’ri rebel he was reconciled with his past, as he viewed it as doing what he needed to do in order to survive, and he’d done it well, better than virtually any other. He listened then to Skafloc and understood where he was coming from, still… Llana’s suggestion seemed to be the most sensible of all of them, and hopefully wouldn’t leave anyone upset with the compromise. His consent to the idea was given with a silent nod as he snapped himself back into combat mode. The disagreement between Jonas and Avelaer was ignored as unimportant, instead he went through one more check in a way that bordered on the compulsive whilst Fade interjected into the discussion before making her way towards the door. “Here we go again”, he said quietly to Llana before kissing the back of her head and stepping away, moving towards the door to examine and open it. |
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| Castamir | Oct 18 2006, 08:17 PM Post #59 |
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Native
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Skafloc shrugged his shoulders, he'd said his bit, but didn't feel strongly enough about it to protest or argue, besides which he wasn't over worried about the prospect of ambush, he'd been ambushed many times before and lived to tell the tale. "Let us get back to the chase then." He subconsciously scratched at a long scar that adorned his forarm and pretended to not notice the moment of affection between the two group members, one scar of many that he wore like badges of honour, and then moved the axe from his shoulder, holding it with both hands as he moved to follow Karosin, ready to rush anything in the room that might need rushing. |
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| Darkwind | Oct 19 2006, 12:00 AM Post #60 |
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Avelaer was sensitive enough to pick up the hurt in the tiefling's response. "Good, then we're in agreement. Some people have an unfortunate tendency to let their desires override their good sense, especially when it comes to items of value and power. I'm glad to see you aren't like that." That was the closest he would come to an apology--after all, he didn't say or really imply anything offensive, he was sure. And if the tiefling chose to see an insult where there was none, that was really his problem. He nodded to Fade and took up a position where he could make the best use of his bow--the barbarian would likely take up the entire front line, given the tight spaces they were in, and Avelaer wanted to stay away from his slashing axe. Firing into melee was tricky business, but he saw no other choice. He'll be careful. |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 19 2006, 06:18 AM Post #61 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas glared at Avelaer, but didn't say anything. He followed the man to the others quietly, drawing his daggers and twirling them once in his hands. He was still slightly hurt that Avelaer had thought of him to be something of a thief, when he never had been. He had never even been of the greedy kind, he was always letting people take what they wanted first. He already had his greatest possessions in the world, he didn't have any need for anything else. He stared at the door they were about to open and pushed away his thoughts, his grin appearing back upon his face. |
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| eocine | Oct 19 2006, 05:40 PM Post #62 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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The door, as were all the others was formed in the shape of the ancient sigil for transmutation, and was the furthest along if one looked from left to right. As had been the case with the divination lab there was no sound to be heard from the other side, and nore was there anyway to see in through any gaps beneath the door. Karosin and Jonas pulled the two leaves apart and the door swung open easily this time, seeming to be in some way made magically lighter than would be normally expected. The dry dustiness of the divination lab this time was missing, instead there was an instantly audible sound of grating breathing, that and a perpetual and measured ticking, that was entirely like a heartbeat in its consistent rhythm. Again though there was no sudden charge of enemies towards them, not even a hint in fact that they had been noticed as they opened the door. Other than the labored breaths of something there wasn’t even a hint of the living beings that Llana’s detect evil spell had registered earlier. If the first arcane laboratory they had entered had been slightly bookish this room was virtually totally given over to them. Bookcases towered to the ceiling on every side and took up virtually ever spare inch of wall space. There were even a pair of library ladders, though as perhaps was fitting for a place of such magic they appeared to be levitating rather than resting on a pair of wheels. The books were scattered everywhere and piled up in an entirely random order, as well as that there were scroll cases and spare sheets of vellum parchment everywhere, with snatched words here and there but no thread nor reason to connect them all. A large and dusty rug covered most of the floor around the entrance, but a quick check revealed it to be neither magical nor a cover for a pit trap or anything of that ilk. Again the theme seemed to be that the room was neither guarded nor even particularly watched, which surely posed more questions than in solved. Still though there were similarities between this room and the last there wasn’t the same feeling of disuse here, as in a few places there were patches where the dust was either more thinly spread, or entirely absent, an effect of books or other items being recently moved. Beneath their feet the ground was hardwood and unpolished, and the walls behind the bookcases were much the same. Above their heads the same sigil was again present, and stood out a deep green. Light was provided by a series of magical lights that were dotted around the room and spread a radiance that seemed a tiny bit harsh to most eyes, not painful as such, but they would leave their image writ behind if one was to blink. The room had been neatly divided into two segments by a huge canvases drape in the middle, before the drapery was all books and parchments, but beyond it was a different story entirely, and it was here that the source of the breathing was to be found. A werewolf in its hybrid form was staked out to a pegboard, metal stakes driven into its wrists ankles and through its sides. The bases of these items were flared and stopped the creature pulling loose. Worse for the lycanthrope, it seemed to have healed around the wounds, which indicated that the metal they were composed of wasn’t silver. In a horrible moment of déjà vu for Avelaer he noticed that above the monsters head a clear and spindle shaped ioun stone floated. A horrific reminder of his own imprisonment… It didn’t take much to see myriad vivid scars beneath the coarse hair, and there were even a series of long and spindly needles that pierced into various parts of the creatures’ anatomy. Mercifully for now it appeared to be asleep, but spasmodic flickers occasionally shuddered across its face, throwing a looks of rictus fury onto its sleeping visage. Away from this living experiment there could be seen a life-size dropdown scroll, onto which was drawn a humanoid figure, but one that appeared to be under the effects of every transmutation spell known to man; two additional arms burst from his side, and they each ended in smoking fists, his arms bulged hugely with muscles, and flames covered every portion of his body, a scorpions head hung threateningly over his head, emerging from his back and ready to strike and his mouth was full of jagged and razor sharp fangs, the man’s skin was grey with the effects of the stone-skin spell and wings spread wide from his back. To the left of this were two sculptures of stone, the first an illithid, the fabled tentacles reaching out as if towards a meal, and the second a minotaur, axe raised high over head. Still, a quick look at these two pieces was more than a little disconcerting, for if anything the craft of the sculpture seemed to be a little too good… Finally they came to a writing desk, on which were scattered more papers, as well as a book on mutational transmutation. It was as they started to reach this desk though that the werewolf finally became aware of their presence… Red eyes snapped open with a growl, and it snarled one thing… “Kill me…” "please... Kill me." |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 19 2006, 07:46 PM Post #63 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Upon seeing the lythancrope, Fade froze and stared at the scene before her, her crimson eyes huge. Her normally animated visage drained completely of all colour, and for a brief moment, she exhibited an expression of pure horror as the werewolf's form shifted in the confines of her mind from her own, to the other slaves in the Arcane Brotherhood's bordello and finally to Keita's slender, almost frail form. Some small iota of self-preservation must have been aware of her reaction, for the horrified look was quickly smothered by a hard, expressionless, mask-like glare. As the other's moved in, the fey'ri stood stock-still, her face still outwardly betraying no emotion, no hint of the internal horrors she was re-living as a flood of repressed memories flowed forth. How many times? How many times had she suffered this indignity? How many times had she witnessed Keita's degredation, or suffered her own, trapped in the very position that this poor creature was now in? How many times had she begged for the same fate that the lythancrope was now growling for? Tasting the bitter tang of bile towards the back of her throat, Fade swallowed hard and quietly stepped backwards out of the room, hoping none of the others would notice; that they would be more occupied with the room and its tragic inhabitant before the realised she wasn't there. For some, inexplicable reason, the brand she bore upon her left shoulder blade - one she so diligently made sure was covered as much as was humanly possible - throbbed and burned as if it were once again fresh, making the fey'ri's stomach roll and her vision swim with revulsion. Dropping her blades, she leant against the crystalline walls of the tower, breathing heavily and fighting down the urge to throw her guts up. Come on... it's in the past... you're over this. You're over it all. Inther is dead - he can't win now... don't let her death be in vain. You never have to go back... get a grip... |
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| Castamir | Oct 19 2006, 09:26 PM Post #64 |
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Native
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Skafloc stepped into the room, once again eyes quickly scanning for threats, lingering over the lycanthrope for a few seconds before shifting to the other corners of the room, walking right in, but careful to not touch anything. He approached the werewolf and looked down at it, frowning. He made no comment at the request, though it was clear from his expression he was itching to fulfil the creatures request. To be rendered so helpless as to beg for death was a concept beyond the warrior, and he believed he had suffered more than any physical pain could cause, so this creature must have been through much. He looked at Avelaer, a recently released captive, and wondered how much the elf had been through himself, and then at Llana, in Skafloc's opinion the moral one of the group. "I can make it quick and painless if you can't think of anything else to do with it?" he asked, a matter of fact tone in his voice that suggested that though he was interested in doing the right thing, he wasn't above prolonging the thing's agony if they thought they could get something useful out of it. Despite any compassion, Skafloc was still far more interested in the successful completion of his mission. |
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| eocine | Oct 20 2006, 04:12 PM Post #65 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Posting for Jonas; Jonas followed the others in, exaggeratedly careful in not touching anything at all, and keeping at least five yards between himself and the bookshelves at all time. In truth though he was starting to calm down rapidly, he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, after all life was far too short for that type of thing, and besides which there was always the chance that no insult had been meant, or perhaps in the past the Elven-Bladesinger had traveled with a group of people who didn’t have the sense to keep away from touching curious and unexplained items. The benefit of the doubt was probably in order, of course he wished that Avelaer had granted him that first before speaking out, but then he had just managed to escape from a horrific period of imprisonment and it could probably easily be assumed that he was still pretty disjointed after that. His ears dragged him away from such thoughts though as he picked up the sound of the growling, and instantly his gaze was drawn by the huge drape at the end of the room. Through the canvas he could make out shadows, but they didn’t move and so his assumption was that the beast was caged. The truth however was far more repellent… The plea for death managed to do something that it took a lot to do, it chipped the smile from his lips for a moment as he contemplated a life nailed to a board. It wasn’t a happy thought… He felt movement behind him as Fade left, but didn’t turn around, focusing instead on the words of Skafloc… Personally he really didn’t like the idea of torture, and thus he turned towards the barbarian. “If you’re going to styx this basher, do it fast”, requested the Tiefling. |
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| Pamela | Oct 20 2006, 05:57 PM Post #66 |
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Molly
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As the rogues examined the door, Llana invoked Sune’s favour upon the party; they would require all the help, divine and mundane, from this point on. Her attention turned to the other doors as the one before them opened. At their stillness, she turned back to the transmuter’s quarters, her own heart beating faster than the ticking. She ignored the books and the furnishings, looking at the still drapes which hid the creatures. When the curtains were parted, her eyes could only focus on the panting werewolf. She noted with mute horror the healed wounds. The logical part of her mind reminded her of the creature’s regenerative abilities but it wasn’t registering fully in her thoughts. “Sweet merciful goddess…” she breathed. She shuddered when he opened his eyes and made his plea, closing her own eyes. Yes, she thought at Skafloc’s question, even while wishing he had done the deed and not asked her to accept responsibility for the act. But caution caused her to look around. Was the scroll some kind of summoning, perhaps, when the ‘sacrifice’ was performed? And why were the two ‘sculptures’ radiating with an evil presence if they had truly been petrified? “Not yet,” she said aloud, hating herself for the cruel decision; the idea of delaying it mercy in the name of self-preservation was repugnant to her, evil or not. She made a private bargain with herself. Let the others fight if they will, she thought to herself; it's my turn, I suppose, to be the cause. “Destroy the ‘statues’,” she said to the others, and then reached into her magical bag for a vial of holy water. She stepped forward, first splashing some on the scroll, then on the pegboard, careful not to splash the creature. “If you wish death after we’ve done this, we’ll grant it, but if you prefer release and healing, I willingly offer it. This I swear in Sune's name.” |
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| eocine | Oct 21 2006, 01:12 PM Post #67 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin swept silently into the room but touched nothing, noting that someone had been in there reasonably recently given the patterns of dust and the cleared areas, still he had no reason to examine anything more than that, he wasn’t overly magically inclined, and in a library of this type he really doubted that they would have carried much that would prove to be of value in his line of work. Still the casualness with which ordinary things had been enchanted was mildly interesting, for even in the great libraries of Silverymoon and Waterdeep they hadn’t bothered to enchant the staircases. Of course the reason for that could be that the owner of the library liked making ostentations shows of his magical power, or he could simply have become enfeebled to the point that he could no longer actually move the ladders along normally. The breathing wasn’t much of a concern to him, after all if you can hear a creature then you can’t really easily be surprised by it, and like all adventurers who had managed to be successful in that field he had learned that it was better to fear the enemy that you were unaware of rather than the one that you knew was there. Of course that didn’t mean that there couldn’t be others around… He led the others beneath the canvas drapes and looked around, careful again to check before he touched anything. It was probably fortunate for all concerned that he didn’t see the sudden reaction from Fade, busy as he was with looking for anything that might offer some kind of hint as to where to find the irritatingly absent mage. The assassin didn’t start at the sudden grown from the pinioned were-wolf, nor in fact did he turn to face it, instead he simply swiveled his head to look at it before resuming his looking over the curious wall scroll that hung down. Most of the comments were written in draconic or elvish, but the diagrams told enough of a tale. He listened silently to the discussion over what was to be done to the lycanthrope, stepping away from the statues as Llana requested that they be destroyed. After all that kind of thing was far more in the barbarian’s destructive remit than his own. Truth told he wasn’t concerned either way, kill the creature or let it live, either was fine with him…. |
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| Darkwind | Oct 21 2006, 03:30 PM Post #68 |
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Native
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Avelaer's eyes widened as he was confronted with the werewolf. Though such creatures were known to be always evil, he could not help but recall his own treatment at the hands of the fey'ri. No one deserved torture, not even monsters whose tainted blood made it impossible for them to be good. He strode forward without hesitation, his rapier ready and on guard for trickery. He locked stares with the werewolf. "I am releasing you. As you can see you are surrounded and overmatched. Behave peacefully, and we will make an effort to cure you of your lycanthropy. If you would rather die, we will grant you a death in combat." With that, he began to free the creature from its restraints. |
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| eocine | Oct 21 2006, 04:14 PM Post #69 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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The werewolf had watched the proceedings through pain-dimmed eyes, wishing that they would kill him quickly, for he had no doubt but that they would. He didn’t expect freedom to come, and why would he? Had he been in his human form then perhaps he would have been able to claim that, but like this? No, it was beyond implausible that they would free him when they knew what he was. It was because of this train of thought that the elf’s words were such a shock to him, and for a moment he had thought that the creature made to taunt him with the prospect of freedom, and then snatch it away, much as the demon winged elves had done time and time again. However the moon-elf proved to be as good as his word, and as he grasped the stake the werewolf clamped shut his jaws, intent that he should not shame himself by crying out as they were pulled free. Weakness was abhorrent to his clan, and to cry out was proof positive that you were beneath even the humans. Instead of crying out, the werewolf pushed as Avelaer pulled, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the layer of fur as it helped to force and work the metal free. Fresh blood ran free and trickled down the board, but in no time the first of them had come loose and was pulled free, dropping to the ground with a clatter. Instantly then it started to pull at the others, heedless of the pain as its claws scrabbled for purchase on the other stakes. Once those had been removed the creature fell to the floor in an ever widening pool of blood. With some difficulty it looked up at the Elf who had freed it, “I am in your debt, Elf…” |
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| Pamela | Oct 21 2006, 05:42 PM Post #70 |
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Molly
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As the Sunite poured the holy water over the board, she looked up with radiant gratitude at Avelaer’s words and actions. “Thank you,” she murmured quietly. She left him to help with the werewolf; she would keep her promise, but she wanted the potential threat dealt with before doing so. She reached again into her sack and this time produced a wooden staff, decorated with carvings of roses. She took it in both hands and swung it at the raised tentacles and head of the illithid. Blessed Goddess don’t let it come to life… She had a horror of things and creatures which affected the mind or in the fey’ri’s case, toyed with it. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 21 2006, 06:42 PM Post #71 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Even though Fade had resolutely and deliberately kept her visual attention away from the gruesome spectacle inside the transmuter's room, she had kept an ear out, listening for any clue that the werewolf had either been put out of its misery or set free. Upon hearing its growling thanks to the 'elf' - which could have been either Llana or Avelaer - she rather hesitantly looked back into the room. Silently, she thanked whatever gods might currently be listening that the others' attention seemed fixed firmly upon the lythancrope and so they hadn't noticed her own reaction to the whole scene - having to relive it within the confines of her own head was bad enough without having to explain herself away to other people. Quietly, she re-entered the room, still averting her eyes from the board the creature had been nailed to. Instead, she busied herself with checking the various items of furniture around the room, checking them for traps and for anything that might be construed as useful. Eventually, it became clear that the only thing left was the desk nearest the werewolf; making herself as inconspicuous as possible and keeping half an ear on the conversation that was playing out between the rest of the party and the werewolf, the fey'ri began to examine the desk. She easily found the simple lock, and upon investigation found that it wasn't trapped. Taking a pair of good quality picks from her belt pouch, she deftly picked the lock and opened the drawer. Nothing. With a little frown, she then examined the drawer closely - no one locked a drawer that had nothing in it. Feeling around on the underside of the drawer, she felt a little raised button. Before pressing it, she explored the surrounding area, looking for any change in the texture of the wood - anything that may indicate a carving or a hidden pocket to hide a trap. Again, there was nothing. Taking a deep breath and holding it, ready to jump away if anything went off in her face, Fade pressed the button. Again, nothing - no needle trap nor magical explosion greeted her actions. Instead, she heard a click to her right. Looking carefully around the desk again, she found that a small hidden compartment had opened, revealing a small bag and something she couldn't quite see. Carefully, she withdrew the bag first and opened it to find that it contained a handful of good quality cut rubies. With a slightly covetous smile, she slipped the small bag into her belt pouch for later inspection and appraisal. She then turned her attention to the other object. Again being extremely careful, she lifted what looked like a necklace with a pendant that bore the same symbol for transmutation that adorned the door to this room. Turning to the others, she held the pendant out for their inspection. "I think I've found something..." |
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| eocine | Oct 22 2006, 09:52 AM Post #72 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Posting as Jonas; Jonas watched for a moment as Avelaer worked to free the imprisoned werewolf, then turned instead towards the statues, recognising that overcrowding the creature could do more harm than good in the long run. He leapt up easily onto the stone minotaur’s head, then rocked back and forth for a moment, working to topple the statue to the floor. As it fell he jumped away, noting that one of the horns cracked off and skittered away. Little more damage than that was done though, and so he turned to the huge barbarian, gesturing towards the neck of the fallen stone. “Scribe him in the dead book if you please…” He said with a nod towards the gleaming axe head of brain-biter before he rolled backwards and away from and possible swing area that Skafloc’s axe may have chopped through. As soon as he was a safe distance away he straightened up and brushed the dust from himself, he then made his way across to where the recently returned Fade was examining the desk. His eyebrows rose at the sight of the hidden compartment in the dask, and then still further at the medallion that was hidden away. Given that Avelaer seemed to be busy with the werewolf he turned to Greg instead. "This looks similar to one that's in the divinator's room", he observed, "think there's anything in it?" |
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| eocine | Oct 22 2006, 11:11 AM Post #73 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Whilst Avelaer freed the dog from its imprisonment Karosin wandered off back into the library section of the room, looking over the various tomes that had been moved to see if there was any particular correlation in the titles that might have given something away. Of course in this he was slightly hindered by the fact that he spoke neither Elven nor Draconic, which were the two languages most often used in magical writings. However there was virtually nothing that he could see that hinted at any connection, for the titles were all entirely different in the words that were used, or at least as far as he could see. Something else that was clear after a short while was that whilst the books had been moved recently, it wasn’t extremely recent, for the dust, whilst thin, did cover every surface. He was still stood with his back to the room when Fade had re-entered, but didn’t pass comment, assuming that she had been checking to see if anyone had used the distraction to sneak up on them. He followed the Fey’ri back into the curtained off room and looked down at the were-wolf that was now laying on the floor and bleeding all over be place. One can always count on an animal to make a mess all over the floor… Turning away with that he looked on as Llana slowly worked to bash in the head of the stone illithid, wincing slightly as the rose-headed shaft chipped away at the tentacles first, breaking them off and sending them falling to the floor. Turning back towards Avelaer he looked down at the creature, wondering if they should let it accompany them. It would certainly have a lot of rage to burn off, and if the Fey’ri had been involved in its imprisonment then it perhaps should have the change to revenge itself on them… If not he had a pair of manacles in his pack, and a sword sheathed at his hip, and either would suffice… |
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| Castamir | Oct 22 2006, 05:20 PM Post #74 |
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Native
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Skafloc watched with a blank expression on his face as Avelaer released the werewolf. It was an audacious move, especially after the discussions with the Mist Master about prisoners and the like. He stepped back, and watching with a degree of grudging admiration as the creature got to the floor. He'd not encountered werewolves in his extensive travels, though he was familiar with tales of their healing capabilities. That'd be useful. he considered, before Jonas turned his attention back to the statue. Skafloc nodded, still with half an eye on the wolfman, before striding over to the fallen statue, and then swinging brainbiter down in a huge arc, as if chopping wood, confident that it's eversharp edge and otherworldly composition would be a match for stone.. |
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| eocine | Oct 22 2006, 08:29 PM Post #75 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Skafloc’s guess was correct, and the magical metal of brain-biter cleaved through the stone and bit deeply into the floor beneath it, sending the bisected head of the minotaur rolling away for a moment before it hit into the desk by which Fade and the others stood with an audible thunk. Llana’s own attacks on the mind-flayer stone weren’t quite as effective, but she had at least succeeded in knocking all of its tentacles away, and leaving a crack across its cranium, assuring that if the magic were to suddenly wear off it would have the mother of all headaches. |
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| Pamela | Oct 23 2006, 05:10 PM Post #76 |
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Molly
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Llana heard Fade’s mention of her discovery, but she was still preoccupied with the statue. Now that the other had been easily destroyed without any repercussions, she turned with an apologetic grin to Skafloc. “I’m sorry, could you take care of this for me? At the rate I’m doing this, it’ll be sunset before I’m done…” She stepped away from the mutilated mindflayer and approached the werewolf. “I will hear your wounds with this,” she remarked, and gently lay her hand upon the creature’s arm. When this was done, the Sunite said, said, “The stairs behind us have been webbed to help delay any potential ambushes. You are of course free to venture that way, but I worry that our foes may still be waiting for us to emerge and ambush you if you try to leave now. May I suggest that you wait here, or follow at a safe distance for your own sake, and join us when we leave? I wouldn’t want us to have freed you just to lead you into death.” She wasn’t concerned about the creature betraying them; it was unlikely to hold much love for the fey’ri, and beyond that, it wasn’t a threat to a single member of the party, let alone the group entire. This also, however, meant that it wasn’t going to be a threat to the fey’ri either, and she didn’t want to waste her time having to keep him alive when there was enough to worry about. |
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| eocine | Oct 23 2006, 08:08 PM Post #77 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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The werewolf turned it’s muzzle away from the blade-singer, and glanced over at the desk that the others were starting to crowd around, though it had no interest in any of them, nor what they were doing. The only thing that mattered now was revenge on the winged freak that had imprisoned him, to feel his jaws close around the creatures throat and experience that moment when the veins gushed warm blood onto his tongue… That revenge would be the only way that he could go on living with the shame of capture and would allow him to return to his people… To return with blooded jaws or not at all, that was the way they had lived their life, and if you couldn’t live by that credo then you died yourself like the weakling you were. As the woman in the red talked to him he stared up at her through eyes that were rapidly clearing, and as they did so they were becoming more and more feral with each passing moment, to the degree where it felt possible to see the primal beast within. “Never…” Growled the creature, though his posture wasn’t one of attack, it simply seemed that he couldn’t vocalize anything other than growls or snarls. “I will extract my revenge in blood from they who dared imprison and torture me…” Even as the beast spoke his claws were gouging furrows into the floor as he contemplated his vengeance. Whilst he was animalistic though he wasn’t entirely stupid, and knew that he may die in any battle, but death in battle was preferable to living through cowardice… |
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| Castamir | Oct 23 2006, 08:39 PM Post #78 |
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Native
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Skafloc nodded to the cleric and agreed to her request, casually knocking the head off the statue, with his axe, wondering what it would look like if it suddenly became flesh... He turned and listened to the werewolf, ignoring the discovery in the desk. He was rarely interested in 'finds', retirement wasn't an option, or rather, when he finally retired, he would had no need for baubles and coin. He grinned at the werewolf's sentiment, "Then follow our path, for it surely will end in bloodshed, I can smell it." he rumbled. |
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| Pamela | Oct 25 2006, 09:14 AM Post #79 |
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Molly
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Posted by eocine Llana’s face gained a slightly pained look at the lycanthrope’s insistence on moving on with them, but the determination in its voice led her to the belief that it was probably beyond dissuading. Whilst she held no love for the creature, she would still rather not see anything die, but then she really didn’t have a huge say in the matter, especially when Skafloc interjected as well, agreeing and geeing on the beast, in the end she would have to resign herself it seemed… The decision apparently made he turned to where the rest were gathered, and stepped to the side of the rogue fey’ri, looking down at the symbol held in her hand and wondering if it was merely a mark of his standing, much like a crown or symbol of visible status, or if it did something more, for it seemed strange to hide it away in a secret drawer. |
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| eocine | Oct 25 2006, 09:49 AM Post #80 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Karosin wasn’t in the least surprised that the wolf-beast wanted the chance to join them and have his revenge against those who had imprisoned them. Nor did he have any problem adding the beast to the group, he would happily allow the creature to change off ahead, setting off traps and drawing attacks and allowing him to come up afterwards and pick people off at his leisure… That was always the best way of fighting as far as he was concerned… Or at least the smart way of fighting… As he pondered that though he became aware of a green glow coming from behind the canvas curtain… Curious… “I think”, he interrupted, “that the pendant just might have something to do with that”, he gestured over his shoulder towards the glowing drape… Without waiting for any response he drifted around the curtain, and could see before him that the sigil in the main hall has glowing a bright green. It seemed obvious enough that it mattered in some way, but exactly how it mattered was beyond him for now… |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 25 2006, 10:09 AM Post #81 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Upon Karosin's comment, Fade followed the assassin, still holding the pendant. She looked over at the now-glowing sigil and turned to Jonas. "Didn't you find one of these pendants in the diviner's room? I take it you didn't pick it up? I wonder..." The fey'ri quickly made her way back to the diviner's room, skirting the glowing sigil as best she could. She then wrapped the transmutation pedant's chain around her left wrist, located the diviner's pendant, took a deep breath and readied herself just in case something went off in her hands. Using her right hand, she quickly took the pendant from the silver dragon and jumped back slightly, just in case. She then turned around to face the entrance room to see if removing this pendant had had any effect. |
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| eocine | Oct 25 2006, 10:18 AM Post #82 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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And indeed there was an effect, though not a negative one... The divination sigil began to glow with a strong white light, of equal intensity to the transmutation mark. There were however no other changes at all, other than a feeling of arcane power building in the room... |
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| eocine | Oct 25 2006, 11:08 AM Post #83 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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At Skafloc’s words the beast looked up, and seemed to smile slightly, though it looked scarcely any different to a snarl. “I’d bet that you can’t smell them out any better than I can… Especially where blood is concerned.” More than that though didn’t need to be said, for all of his paths thus far had ended in bloodshed. He listened to the conversations vaguely, but magic wasn’t of interest to him, the only thing that mattered was beginning the hunt of the mage that had imprisoned him… The were-wolf straightened up from it’s crouched position and followed the others out, seeming to hold onto its rage by the thinnest of threads. Lips were pulled back to expose razor sharp fangs, and claws scraped against each other eagerly. The scars that still covered most of its body were visible, but it was the fury and shame that were the important markings, and they led the creature onwards with the rest of the group. As the second sigil lit up it twisted its powerful neck back and forth as if expecting to see an attacker emerge from some hole in the wall. When nothing emerged the creature contented itself with pacing back and forth and waiting for a decision to be made as to where they would go next. After a while though it noticed a familiar scent, stopping in its tracks and crouching to get closer to the floor. The bipedal wolf scurried across the floor, head swinging back and forth as it tried to keep hold of the scent. After a few moments it straightened up, “the mage has been here, but I can tell nothing more than that, though there is also a strong smell decay coming from that room…” Tilting his head he indicated the Necromancy lab. |
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| Pamela | Oct 25 2006, 07:58 PM Post #84 |
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Molly
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Llana left the transmuter’s quarters, following the others as they went back into the hall to see what the amulet was causing. A small smile settled on her face; they were spared the effort of having to cast magic upon this new sigil. Now we merely have to open every single door... The Sunite listened to the werewolf’s verdict, unsurprised. She slightly begrudged her inability to turn away the undead today, but still considered the loss worthwhile compared to the advantages granted by her present form’s gifts. Demonic or not, they were still elf-kin, and so less likely to invoke undead than demons. That had been proven right so far. “The next room is a ‘safe’ one,” she said, as if in reminder, in case the more exuberant members decided to rush in upon the banshee or baelnorn or whatever other necromantic blasphemy might be quartered in there. “Is there anything else of value in that room or did Vaerilmor thoroughly ransack it of whatever treasures it might have had?” She wondered whether the mage had even been aware of the amulet-keys. The possibility that he hadn’t been left her uneasy. If he wasn’t, how did he get upstairs then? The diviner’s room looked untouched…. |
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| Mwa13 | Oct 26 2006, 07:07 AM Post #85 |
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Crazy webslinger
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Jonas looked at Fade. "Yes, I did, but I-" He wasn't able to finish his sentence as Fade left back to the pendant he had not touched. He frowned slightly at Fade's actions and swiftly went after her. She was already doing what he thought she might and stood there on guard, ready for anything. Fade should've asked the others first if that was a good idea, but since nothing bad happened, Jonas let it go with an unnoticeable relieved sigh. He turned to stare at their new acquintance. "Then that is the way we have to go. A little smell of decay has never stopped me." One of the main smells in Sigil had always been the scent of decay anyway, so he was more than used to all sorts of smells. |
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| eocine | Oct 26 2006, 11:00 AM Post #86 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As Fade wandered into the Divination room to pick up the earlier pendant Karosin edged his way carefully towards the entranceway, pulling a small glass ball out of one of the pouches that he wore around his waist. Were he to need to flee thanks to something that the demon-spawn did then the hydra-venom contained within would provide the needed flames to enable him to get through the spell more quickly than would otherwise be possible. Of course there was the problem of dealing with the flames but be backed his ability to do the proverbial hop, skip and jump down the stairs quickly enough for the fire not to be a concern. Fortunately for all concerned though the effect of gathering the second of the pendants had no outwardly dangerous effect, merely causing the divination sigil on the floor to glow with a white light of such radiance that for a moment the assassin had cause to raise his arm in front of his eyes to protect them. In a few moments though the light faded to a more manageable background level and so he was able to look around once more, though his eyes still showed him bright spots whenever he closed them. Llana’s words on any thing discovered in the transmuter’s room brought no more than a shrug from Karosin, for he hadn’t spotted anything that looked like it might be of use, and judging from the looks that the others were giving he had to assume that the same was most likely true of all of the rest of them. A pity perhaps but you couldn’t continually rely on the enemy to furnish you with ways to beat him. “Hold for a moment”, he replied to both the werewolf and the tiefling, “We did earlier pledge to order where our searches went, and I suggest that it might be best if we stuck to that.” He gestured a gloved hand towards the lit sigils, “as it’s looking more and more like we’ll have to visit whatever awaits us behind each of these doors and whatever’s there will keep whilst we explore the others, so I don’t see any reason to change things yet.” “Provided that nobody has any further observations then I suggest that we then open that door”, he nodded towards the door marked with the evocation symbol, “for the simple fact that it is the next door along and one is as good as another at this stage.” He then lapsed into silence, leaving the floor open for any observations before they moved on. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 26 2006, 05:45 PM Post #87 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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Wrapping the divination pendant around her wrist so that it joined the transmutation one, Fade left the room and winked at Jonas as she went, noticing his guarded attitude towards her actions. "Caution has its place, but sometimes, you've just got to reach out and take the bull by the balls, my friend." she remarked in an amused tone "Otherwise nothing in this life would ever get done..." At the werewolf's claim that Vaerilmor had indeed been in this tower, the rebel fey'ri stopped for a moment before it. She realised that this could have been thought of as a foolish move, considering he had been captured and tortured by her people and may mistake her for one of them, but there was a certain method to her madness - she preferred that the werewolf saw her for what she truly was and reacted accordingly now rather than mistaking her for one of Vaerilmor's lackeys in a potential battle later. "How old is Vaerilmor's scent?" she asked, her tone short and uncompromising but not unkindly. "Has he had chance to leave, or is he still here? Can you tell such things?" |
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| eocine | Oct 26 2006, 08:56 PM Post #88 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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The wolf looked up, distracted by the question and turned to face Fade, his face still unchanged from the feral snarl that it had worn before. Whilst it was certainly true that her kin had tortured him, and that brought his heart-rate up, he wasn’t stupid enough to do anything about it, for he could see well enough that he would be dead were he to do so. Perhaps if he managed to separate her from the party and make it look an accident then he would attempt to assuage some of his bloodlust on her, but until then… “The scent is not old”, he admitted grudgingly, “but I cannot say more than that for there is no trial I can follow…” |
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| eocine | Oct 26 2006, 09:02 PM Post #89 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As there had been no argument against next visiting the Evocation Laboratory Llana and Karosin together moved across towards it and waited for the others to follow suit, then, once everyone was in position again they pulled the doors apart once more… The doors swung open, but rather than leading straight into a room instead led into another corridor, one that most assuredly seemed to have an aura of being of planar design. The corridor was a wide one, easily allowing the party to stand four abreast. Beneath their feet the ground was a smooth and unmarked stone. Above their heads, in a bizarre display of magic a volcanic fault line collided together, scattering volcanic rock down into a metallic grate, where it was carried away on a trolley system that ferried it away into places unknown. Stone grinding loudly meant that any sounds were muted out, and the room was filled with rock dust that was choking and make eyes water. Four doors were spaced down the corridor, three of which were sturdy steel, and secured with a wheel lock of sorts, that would clearly need to be turned to open the door. The final door however seemed to be a glass of some sort, though there was obviously a sheet of lead or similar behind it as it was still entirely opaque. The first of these doors emitted heat at an astonishing rate, and from the gap beneath the door came a torrent of hot air that scorched the skin and caused leather armor to warp with the heat. Sweat sprung up on brows and the visible heat haze cased the view to waver and distort. Also visible was a bright orange glow that spread out from the spaces around the door, one that flickered occasionally and seemed to flare brightly at times before falling back to a base level. Powerful gusts of wind that threatened too sweep the parties feet out from under them greeted them all by the second door, and even over the noise of the colliding rocks overhead could be heard sounds of thunder that split the air around them, cracking again and again in a crescendo of noise. Layer after layer of ice enshrouded door number three, and it radiated a glacial cold that froze eyebrows and whitened the breath of the party members who stood close by. The ground beneath the door was treacherous with ice, and toes started to feel chilled inside boots as people stepped close. The final door radiated nothing at all, but gave off a slightly acrid smell and a spread of dirt was scattered about beneath the door… |
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| eocine | Oct 27 2006, 09:35 AM Post #90 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Instead of standing around for a decision to be made the werewolf reached out and grabbed the flame handle, twisting it viciously around as quickly as he could. As that handle twisted though so did the others all turn, and there was a momentary pause before they all swung open. The party were suddenly enveloped in a vortex of swirling winds, yanking them all off their feet and dragging them towards an open door. In seconds Llana and there werewolf were gone, followed by Greg, Karosin and Fade. The last two to vanish were Avelaer and Skafloc, who were both sucked into the same room. No sooner had they vanished though than all the doors closed behind them, and it was as if they had never been there. --------- Skafloc and Avelaer had been pulled though the hurricane door, and found themselves deposited at the bottom of a mountain… Though most bizarrely it seemed to be entirely artificial, and more than that was clearly, somehow and in someway, entirely indoors, for above their heads at the very top of the mountain was a quarter of the evocation sigil, glowing with an orange light that gave the area a dusky look. The mountain in fact seemed to be little more than a collection of piled and bound rocks, though it was clearly on a mammoth scale, and occasionally there would be detritus that would tumble down the face with a clatter before crashing to the floor. One thing that promised to make even flying up the side of this Elven made precipice though were the titanically powerful winds that buffeted both, and were strong enough that even the mighty barbarian had to be aware of their ferocity. Added to that were cracks of thunder and then worst of all, a jagged bolt of lighting formed as if from nowhere and cracked into the side of the mountain, leaving the stone there blackened and burned. Around them on the floor was the other side of the door that had dragged them into the room, but it was entirely flat to the wall and there wasn’t even a hint of a seam that could be gripped. Other than that the immediate area was clear of everything but rock falls and dirt. It seemed obvious that the only way out of there would be up… Trying to look upwards whilst high-speed winds are slashing against your eyes is no easy thing, but high above them the Elven blade-singer could make out the swirling shapes of air elementals. ---------- Fade woke up moments later to find herself looking up at the clawed feet of the werewolf they had recently rescued. Though judging from the direction they were pointing in it was clear that the beast wasn’t even looking at her, never mind being about to attempt to take advantage of the situation. More than that though the beast appeared to be frantically hopping back and forth, like the proverbial cat on the hot tin roof… Looking down the fey’ri could see that she was laying on a bed of rocks, and more that that though she could feel that they were burningly hot to the touch, though this heat of course did no damage to her resistant skin. The stone appeared to be volcanic in nature, and there were bizarre onyx bubbles formed in it, gleaming and bright, that reflected the images of the gouts of flames that shot into the air all around them. Further around them she could see an expanse of ash covered landscape, with heat rising from the floor in every direction. Volcanic fissures in the earth spewed lava and there were occasional explosions of gas that sent shards of super-heated stone in every direction around them. To the left of them spires of stone formed a strangely forest-like formation, and to the right there was a huge lake of lava… Turning her head to look back over her shoulder she could see a sheer stone cliff face, and the reverse side of the door that had dragged them through it and then closed behind them. Whilst she was certainly more than capable of picking most locks, it’s more or less recognised as fact that you can’t pick a lock that doesn’t exist, and the door was flawlessly smooth and unmarked. Twisting back, in the distance she could see another wall of stone, much like the one that they were stood by now, and the shape of a door could just about be made out through the haze, but to get there they would have to traverse a landscape of flame, gas and explosions. There was more though, for emerging from the river of flames came a humanoid shaped creature of flame, that headed towards them, arms outstretched and leaving bubbling pools of molten rock with every step it took. The werewolf was still hopping back and forth, but now she could make out his snarl, audible even over the rushing and roaring of the explosions as the beast watched two more of the elementals emerge and make their way towards them…. ---------- Llana and Jonas found themselves floating on a moving block of ice, with a frigid wind cutting across them and causing tiny icicles to form rapidly in their hair. Breath turned white in the cold, and the tiefling’s fingertips rapidly started to numb in the extreme temperature. Beneath their feet the icy floor was slippery, which was not any great problem for either of the pair, with Jonas preternatural sense of balance, and Llana’s spell enhanced physical dexterity, coupled with her ability to fly. The cold on the other hand was a problem exclusively for the planar shadow-dancer, for Llana’s current form as a celestial being granted her protection from the elements. Turning backwards they could both see that the floe that they were stood on was moving away from the door through which they had been sucked, and in common with the others it too had no discernable door handle nor any other visible method of opening it, being fashioned entirely out of a smooth metal. To the sides of them they could see barren expanses of clearly freezing water, with large blocks of ice making up a veritable carpet on top of the gently flowing waters. Up above was another quarter of the sigil of evocation, and it threw down an orange light that reflected from the mirrored surface of the ice and occasionally flashed blindingly into their eyes. The shadows that the light cast down were distorted and stood out black against the orangey white of the ice. Looking in the direction that they were floating Llana and Jonas could easily spot an imposingly huge figure stood and waiting for them with arms folded across his chest. This being stood over fifteen feet tall, and had a skin of a light blue colour, matched with dirty hell hair that hung down in a series of massive plaits, that where all tied into one huge one. The giant, for this was clearly what it was, was dressed in a series of ragged and dirty pelt’s though a mail shirt was visible beneath them. It appeared to have been waiting for them to spot him, for once it did the creature turned away and took a few huge steps towards a pile of rocks, plucking one up with ease and tossing the boulder into the air once as if to gauge it’s weight, then launched it into the air towards them. The aim was off, and the boulder crashed into the lip of the platform, fissuring the ice and causing a large piece to drop into the waters. The human shaped behemoth smiled and then started to lift another rock free. At this moment there was more movement behind them, and Jonas and Llana watched as two huge creatures composed entirely of water and slivers of ice pulled themselves up onto the platform and started to make their way towards them. ---------- The only available light to Karosin and Greg was a dim orange glow from the quarter sigil, and with that they could make out that they appeared to be in an underground tunnel of sorts. Behind them was the back side of the door through which they had been dragged, and it was smoothly finished and utterly flat to the touch, and not even the closest of observations brought up any hint that the door could be reopened from this side. The walls were spaced about eight feet apart, and were mostly rough stone, though in places they seemed to be unusually smooth, almost as if they’d been melted in some way. Looking more closely there were visible streams of some kind of metal running through them, and given that it was in these areas where the rock looked to be most altered it seemed obvious that there had been some fairly heavy duty mining going on there some time very recently. Beneath their feet there had been a wooden pathway laid down, and there were bracing pillars running down the corridor, along with various other structures that weren’t familiar to either Greg nor Karosin. Buckets and other implements were laying on the floor around them, and there were a few empty ration bags and other things that told of a long stay in the darkness… Aged air circulated, dry and musty, enough so that each breath taken was noticeably unpleasant and left the lungs aching slightly. There was also still that acrid smell present in the still atmosphere, and Karosin, who had worked with acids before in his alchemy laboratory at home, could easily enough identify the scent as being some kind of acid. Still, there were currently no sounds for them to hear, so it appeared that either the tunnels had since been cleared out, or they were off shift or something else… Up ahead of them the tunnel bent around a corner, and they had to hope that there was some way out in that direction. |
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| Castamir | Oct 27 2006, 11:12 AM Post #91 |
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Native
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Skafloc had followed mutely, having nothing to offer that he thought would help, and simply remained prepared for anything... ..he wasn't prepared to be pulled through a door like that though. He stood, braced against the wind, his fur cloak flapping until he pulled it around him. He was used to the elements, it was a part of life where he'd grown up, but this was strange, this was.. Inside? He turned and looked at the door, then looked at the wind battered elf beside him. He shouted, he had to shout to be heard, the wind was so severe.. "Can you climb? I can, we can tie each other together if you can't, that way if you should slip, you won't fall far.." |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 27 2006, 11:15 AM Post #92 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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After checking the door again for any kind of lock or way of opening it and being thwarted again, Fade cursed soundly under her breath and unsheathed her swords. She severely doubted that this was a welcoming committee ready to guide her out of this hellish place. Glancing over at the werewolf - oh, why him! she complained to herself No weapons, no armour, plus I have a very good idea that he'd like nothing more than to kill me. Bloody marvellous... - and at his impression of a lizard in a hot desert, the rebel fey'ri rolled her eyes and crouched slightly in a defensive stance, putting herself between him and the elementals. "Okay, Fido... this is where I really, *really* hope that your bite is far worse that your bark" she muttered to herself "although I really do fear that biting one of them would possibly be a very bad idea." Still keeping her attention fixed upon the encroaching elementals, she cocked her head back towards the lythancrope and spoke out of the side of her mouth. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather we stayed away from these bad boys - I have no idea if my weapons would hurt them, and judging by the way you're leaping from foot to foot, you haven't got an icecube's chance in hell against them. I think the door out of here is over there..." she gestured towards the door with Tholdagnir "... now I know this means we have to traverse this open lava field -" she rolled her eyes again " heh, never thought I'd ever have to say *that* out loud again - but it looks like we've got little choice." As the elementals stepped closer, her tone grew more severe "When I say run: run. There's GOT to be a way across here. Look for stones - anything you might be able to jump on to." and if they sink and you fall in... well, then I know not to go that way the fey'ri's inner mercenary commented. Fade growled at herself. "Shut up, shut up, shut up... you're not here, okay? You've been buried. I'm not listening to you anymore..." The first elemental dragged itself on to the rocky outcrop that the fey'ri and the werewolf currently inhabited, leaving huge droplets of molten rock in its wake. Backing off slightly, the rogue yelled "RUN!", hoping that the werewolf would begin to look for a safe way across the lava field. She, however, pirouetted forward - a curiously balletic manoeuvre - with her swords leading; it had forever been her intention to take on the elementals herself - not through some twisted sense of honour, but simply because without a weapon to hand, she couldn't see how the lythancrope, even with his regenerative powers, could face a creature that was basically made of fire and magma. At least she did have a natural resistance to fire - part of her fey'ri heritage - and a good pair of swords that she trusted implicitly - with Fido out of the way, she reasoned, she could concentrate on taking the elementals down without worrying about him. |
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| Darkwind | Oct 27 2006, 11:17 PM Post #93 |
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"No need. I've magic to bear me aloft. I think I should investigate first, though. I see air elementals--how fortunate that we were sucked in here and not elsewhere. They won't attack me thanks to this." Avelaer showed him his ring, a mighty Ring of Air Command. "Up seems to be the only way out, as I doubt we could get that door open, but just in case stick around and see if you can find one down here. Or see if there's any significance to that sigil over there." His winged cloak bore him upward as his Avelaer became a rapier once again. Not much chance his arrows would do any good, considering the winds up there. |
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| Castamir | Oct 27 2006, 11:48 PM Post #94 |
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Native
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"You are going to fly?" asked the barbarian incredulously, the wind whipping his hair about his face. He grinned at the elf's intention and saluted, it was an act of bravery for sure, Skafloc felt sure he weighted at least twice the weight of the elf, and even he was bracing against the wind, once off the ground he hald expected the slight form of the Avelaer to get blown away like a leaf... "Good luck!" he called out as the elf started his ascent. |
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| Pamela | Oct 28 2006, 10:33 AM Post #95 |
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Molly
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Llana puzzled over the volcanic rock in the evoker’s quarters, trying to figure out why anyone would want such a disturbing loud process in the middle of their study. Best not to make sense of mages, she thought, or was this the fey’ri? Where is this? She narrowed her eyes, trying to watch for any sudden movements or surprises while keeping the floating grit from plaguing her sight any further than it already was. She fluttered her wings, uncomfortable with the feel of the specks of dirt settling upon them. A door for each element, she thought as they moved to explore each one. She began to turn to the others, ready to mention that her fire protections would help in the exploration of the extremely hot room when the werewolf stepped forward. “Wait,” she began, trying to warn of the traps but never getting a chance to finish as she was literally whisked off her feet and into one of the doors. “Karo!” she shouted, trying to beat her wings uselessly against the gusts, and to reach for him- or anyone- to remain where she was. She was engulfed in the frigid air, and thankful that she was protected from the worst of the cold. She managed to find her balance when Jonas suddenly appeared at her side on the floe. Now the cleric wished that she still had her boots as she saw the rush of blood to his cheeks as his body dealt with the artic temperatures. She spared one last glance at the closed door before turning to take in the rest of her surroundings. Now how do we get out? she wondered, blinking her eyes as she looked away from the sigil’s strange flickering light. She caught the movement on the ‘shore’ and widened her eyes at the sight of the frost giant that oddly waited for their attention before turning to its task of murder. Well, so much for diplomacy, she thought to herself as she rose into the air; better to divide its attention between the two of them and hopefully divert it away from Jonas. As she flew up, she caught a glimpse of the water elementals coming at their rear. As the boulder smashed into the sheet of ice, she spared a glance to the Tiefling who was still able to maintain his footing. Her hands wove into the form of a flame, and she only hesitated briefly on the destination of her assault. A curtain of flame descended upon the frost giant. Better to deal with the foe that could fire from afar, and kill her companion in seconds between thedamage of a well-aimed boulder and the sub-zero waters if Jonas fell into them. |
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| eocine | Oct 28 2006, 05:18 PM Post #96 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As the doors opened Karosin had felt his feet start to get pulled out from underneath him, and he braced himself against the pull and tried to press himself against the wall and use that to press himself to and hopefully let that do some of the work. The power of the vortex though was simply too strong for him to fight against, and he felt his feet starting to skid across the floor, legs still locked but the winds literally starting to pull him off of the stone ground. Llana’s cry span his head around, and though his whirling braids he could make her out, and see the panic in her eyes and the fact that her wings were frantically flapping against the winds. Worry forced him into a moment of desperation, and he suddenly crouched and leapt towards the door that was drawing him in, hoping to manage to place his feet on either side of the door and then spring away and grab hold of his wife’s outstretched hand. The first part of the plan worked perfectly, as his feet thumped down and his leg muscles braced against them for a moment before he leapt away, arm outstretched towards Llana’s own hand… But the pull of the winds were far too strong, and he was yanked in through the doorway backwards, his fingers groping at the empty air for a moment, and he disappeared into the darkness seconds before the heavy metal door slammed closed with an air of finality. Mere moments later he became aware once more, and found himself laying on a wooden walkway in a stone tunnel. From that position he could look up at the sigil, and gaze around at the buttressed walls, but there was little more he could see. In total silence he rolled over backwards, vaulting silently onto his feet and straightening up. The first thing he noticed was that Greg was with him, and that the others appeared to have ended up elsewhere. Still the walking dead-man was probably one of the most useful people to be paired with in this type of situation when you didn’t know what was around the corner. Literally in this case… He considered as he looked ahead of them and saw where the tunnel curved around. Briefly he turned backwards and examined the door, but there seemed to be no way of opening it, and even the crowbar he had in his pack was useless if there were no seams in which to insert it. The silence didn’t bother him at all, in fact he found it entirely reassuring, and was perfectly at ease in the situation, though of course he wondered if the sorcerer was the same. He made his way to the side of the other and kept his voice low, “If I might make a suggestion? I’ll go on ahead and see what’s there, then I’ll come and get you once I have an idea what we’re dealing with. Of course if I’m spotted then I’ll shout and you can play the part of the cavalry?” Another alternative would be for both of them to creep forwards together, but in the darkness Greg’s face stood out above his robe making him easily spottable, and thus the assassin was rather loathe to be caught too close to him. Still he would hear what the human had to say and work from that… |
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| eocine | Oct 28 2006, 09:59 PM Post #97 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As werewolves tend to do the creature came to his senses before Fade did, his recuperative powers working with ferocious speed. It was just as well that they did as well, considering that the creature was being broiled alive with each passing moment spent laying still on the stone floor. Patches of fur had already been burned away, and the smell of burned hair hung in the air, it was this smell that fully adrenalised the beast, for it was a smell that had never meant anything good for the werewolf, and so it pulled itself up to its feet as quickly as possible, and started the curious hopping from side to side. It looked over the heat blasted arena they were in with a snarl, and the disturbing feeling of the flesh on its feet feeling like they were cooking. Down by his feet lay the Fey’ri woman, and for a moment he considered leaning down and biting hard on the back of her neck, but the fact was that he had no idea where he was, and having a helping hand would be more than a little useful. After a few more moments Fade pulled herself to her feet, and the creature watched as she dusted herself down. And then spotted a flaming hand slam down onto the floor just by the meeting of lava and solid stone. Tongue already lolling in an attempt to expel a little of the massive heat the werewolf drew back his lips to expose a series of razor sharp teeth, and the muscles across his shoulders seemed to swell with fury. But how to attack a creature that would burn the flesh from his bones? Fade’s voice cut across his thoughts and he stared at her with fury flashing in his eyes, but maddeningly she was undeniably right. “I…” He started to reply to tell her that he would sooner die, but the thought of revenge against the being that had tortured him was enough to kick his self preservation instincts into over drive. “Fine” With that the creature seemed to shudder, then Fade was subjected to the sounds of bones snapping and tendons tearing as the werewolf’s form twisted and altered, moving away from his hybrid form and taking on the form of a true wolf. A huge beast with a thick pelt that was coloured a yellowing grey. Faster than any human could normally travel the wolf broke into a run in the direction that the fey’ri had indicated, reaching the edge of the stone before leaping off and towards a floating piece of rock, pausing for a second before gathering its strength and jumping off again, nimbly hopping from rock to rock. At the same time that happened Fade’s first assailant reached her, and slammed down two massive fists at her, both of which connected with staggering power, hard enough to shake her to the core. Fortunately for her the flames didn’t harm her in the least, but it was obvious that she wouldn’t be able to take many more of these pulverizing blows and stay alive. Something that was probably even more disheartening for the Fey’ri was the fact that neither Lawbreaker nor Tholdagnir did any real damage to the creature, the elemental’s lava-like body simply sliding down to patch up the wounds and virtually washing away the injuries… |
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| eocine | Oct 28 2006, 10:18 PM Post #98 |
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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As Avelaer flew upwards the winds buffeted him, and seemed virtually to be trying to smash him into the mountain, but he was sufficiently strong and agile to avoid that fate, and soared upwards towards the Air Elementals. The planar beings flew down towards the moon-elf to attack, but before they had even managed to get close it appeared that they sensed something about the blade-singer, and they flew to a respectful distance and didn’t make to attack, yet nor did them make to flee. Even over the winds that howled through the room the Elf could make out the Auran that one of the Elementals spoke in his direction, it was a language of roars and rushes, that could carry even in this environment. “Why do you come here wind-rider?” It questioned him, keeping a distance from Avelaer until it had worked out what his intentions were. Bearers of the ring had to be respected and judged, and then from there the elementals would decide how to react. |
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| Darkwind | Oct 28 2006, 10:20 PM Post #99 |
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As he pulled himself to his feet, Greg looked around quickly to get his bearings. Blast that werewolf! A quick look at the door told him that probably wasn't going to be their wya back. It didn't even look much like a door, from this side. "That sounds like a plan. I could disintegrate the door, of course, but something tells me it wouldn't do any good. Go ahead, see what you can find." He could come along, of course, but without wasting any more spells he would be easily discovered by any hostiles that might be around. Pretty conspicuous, with the black robe and snow-white hair and skin, he was. |
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| Mistress Elysia | Oct 28 2006, 10:59 PM Post #100 |
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When in doubt, assume you rolled a natural 1
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After the first of the elemental's attacks connected with the fey'ri, Fade felt a little dazed and just a tad disconcerted at her predicament. She was also positive that something had gone crack during that first assault - there was absolutely no way she could withstand many more attacks like that. She'd been in such situations before, but never, she had to admit, in such an enclosed space... normally, she relied on her agility and near maniacal fury to get her through most battles - obviously this tactic wasn't going to wash this time. "Oh, shit..." she hissed under her breath as she tumbled away from her foe, taking a second to wipe one hand across her bloody nose. Realising that Tholdagnir and Lawbreaker were near useless, she sheathed them again and ran over to where the werewolf had jumped. She balked for a moment at the edge of the outcrop, her heart leaping into her mouth - one slip up into that bubbling lava, and it was all over for her in a very terminal way. Frantically, she scanned the area for any other way to cross - or anything else she could use - but came up trumps; there was nothing for it. The elementals were closing in - she had to cross the lava field. Taking a very deep breath in a vain attempt to steady her nerves, the fey'ri took a few steps back to give herself a run up and began the attempt to follow the nimble werewolf. |
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8:48 AM Jul 11