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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 0/10 Alumnus Post posted:How did you pay your passage? Tutresiel had given the captain one of the three-faced coins of Ro-Bazzanoth, which they had found clenched between the teeth of an mummified corpse, frozen in the pose of the Greater Symbol of Shi'Kushar, surrounded by other mummified corpses who looked like they died begging - this being upon the broken shores of Sullivar, a relatively recent enclave which tragically ceased due to the Bleeding Stars rising in the east. The captain gladly accepted the coin, although it is unlikely he knew the true significance. Sometimes when he thinks he cannot be seen, he cradles the coin like one would a child - he is becoming obsessed. Such are the risks with such trinkets that appear as wonders to mortal minds. quote:EVERYBODY: WHAT DO YOU DO? Tutresiel stood upon deck, gazing upon the horizon. Although it was not night, the stars were still there - they are always there, even if they cannot be seen. The sun's power blinds people from being able to witness them forever, mercifully. The quietude that the sea has most recently suffered was ominously appropriate, given the circumstances, as such Tutresiel was on edge, slightly. They cast their senses outwards in hope of sensing all that might be of note within the confines of this limited cosmos, or if that would cause an alarming defining of perspective, what is of note within this moment and place. Discern Realities (Wis): 2d6+3 8 Asking the question: - What is about to happen?
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Jan 21, 2016 10:11
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 0/10 Ah. The undead. One of the Great Enemies of the Silent God. 'Funnily' enough, if Hamon was here they would be able to turn them. There are two thoughts as to why the undead are so hated by the Silent God, death is a final thing - to be acting beyond it is breaking a fundamental law is the primary one, however there are (or were) treatises on the greater nature of such things, having been beyond the veil of death can grant profund and unnatural knowledge, a fact that even some mortals are aware of and so some of the foolish seek out ghosts, the lost souls of the dead still bound to the world, in order to ask them questions. Obviously this usually ends badly. Regardless, Tutresiel slipped the cube back into the Pall, cracking open the box's lid just slightly and causing the opening to bloom as it does, providing the transdimensional interface, while the cube's shape appears to warp and shrink in a better approximation of the internal world-space of the Pall. With that the cube was safe again, it was less use in an actual combat situation, which unfortunately this seemed to be the case. Witnessing the energies emitted by the spirits, Tutresiel did not appreciate this spectral incursion. With that they grasped a dead star, called from a higher dimension where they float unaided, forever, the radiance emitted by such an object (especially upon such peculiar wavelengths) casts itself upon many things, perhaps in its presence soulless entities might be able to pereceive more esoteric things, or perhaps not. Tutresiel had little time for things that had no place in the cosmos, the constructs of mortals could never achieve anything that grandiose, they were to be forever overshadowed by their creators. With a pale white star glowing brilliantly in their right hand, Tutresiel advanced around the ship's deck, catching sight of the spirit that had grown manifest upon deleterious energies. Such a thing would necessitate being a primary target, for its ability to affect the physical world more completely was not only an issue in the immediate sense, but also in the theological sense, for it had achieved by now several of the steps of the path of Im-Voshim, known to mortal scholars more commonly as Hollow Declension. If it were to one day fully achieve this it might build a fortress of ivory and force the Glazen Threshold, as well as regardless becoming a more dire threat to the world, but more importantly it would challenge the more key dogma of the Silent God. With that in mind, Tutresiel used their left hand to infect the star with deleterious vibration, causing it to (however temporarily) transcend its form to become a dying star, but an unstable one. With that Tutresiel tossed it at the ghost 'captain', all the while the others witnessed this moment, the star having left the calming presence of Tutresiel, and with that its faith rioted. It would do what it should have done aeons ago, if it were not for its dimensional misplacement and stasis. Using the +1 from Discern Realities on Nova Nova (Wis): 2d6+3+1 8 Damage: 1d6 1 pre:Nova (WIS) You can conjure small stars within Reach of you, but they destabilize rapidly. They can provide light and heat, but burn out in a small explosion after a short time. When you create a star with intent to harm, roll +WIS. On a 10+, deal your damage to everything Close to the star you created, and it detonates exactly when you want it to. On a 7-9, it still detonates, but it hits less than you wanted it to, or the explosion causes collateral damage. This might hit 01 assuming it's close enough, but then again I think 01 can soak a point of damage, and who knows, maybe 01 can see now???? Praise the Silent God for granting us vision
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Jan 23, 2016 11:27
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 4/7 | XP: 0/10 "Perhaps a dead star was the wrong choice." muttered Turesiel as the spirit exulted in the presence of its radiance. "Perhaps something more... vivacious will work." said Tutresiel as they drew a hand deep into the Pall, its lid opening like an iris and the interface between its outside and inside blooming causing a disturbing visual effect, before Tutresiel drew out from it a mote of burning plasma, a shard of a celestial realm, something impossible that should not be here, and yet it was. Its divine nature exultant as Tutresiel gripped it, the air growing insufferably hot for anyone but the masked figure, Tutresiel said nothing more as they thrust it at the inbound figure, the radiance of this being very different to the last, it is silvery, strange sigils seem to follow it in afterimages imprinted upon the mind, the hostile nature of the Broken Domain upon anything that is not from there would soon become evident. For entropy came from death, and a dying star being resonant with entropy made perfect sense. But this was order, cold stasis - so cold that it burns hot with a scouring nature, castigating the chaotic universe around it for daring to show such flaws. A purifying relic, disdainful for anything less pure than it was, which which the majority of this world, as flawed as it was. But flaws can be scoured away, but without those flaws they might cease to be. Hack and Slash (Str): 2d6+0 9 Damage (Messy, Ignores Armor): 1d6 6 (The tags of the Heavenly Shard are Hand, Near, Messy, Ignores Armor, and Thrown)
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Jan 25, 2016 12:35
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Tutresiel HP: 12/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 4/7 | XP: 1/10 Tutresiel reeled somewhat from the blow, however the damage of the material is nothing compared to the damage of the immaterial. However the destruction of this body would cease Tutresiel's capabilities within the mortal world, something that could not be allowed to occur, for now. Paying no heed to the pain, and no blood being spilled quite yet (the flesh having taken on a frozen texture instead), Tutresiel still gripped the shard. However this was not the time nor the place for it, drained somewhat of its essence, tainted by the gulf it had touched, Tutresiel placed it back within the confines of the Pall, the opening blooming once more as the light escaped back beyond contact with this world. With that in mind, Tutresiel called forth a nascent star in their left hand, causing all around them to bask in its golden, warm, glow. Still holding the star, Tutresiel gestures with their right hand, causing a miniscule, yet perfectly circular (and flat) region of space to form, casting a silvery glare, like as though a portal to some celestial realm, the hole surrounded by rotating runes that are disquieting to behold. A similar portal of the same shape and size forms in the air near the fleeing ghost, and with that in mind Tutresiel flings the nascent star through the poor, using its own inherent instability (and the force that Tutresiel used in its ascension) to time it correctly before it destabilises entirely and erupts in a blast of golden energies, hopefully lancing through the incorporeal form of the fleeing ghost and sundering its very nature. Using Origami Universe and Nova combined to get that ghost some good. Nova (Wis): 2d6+3 6 Looks like I'll be marking XP, unless someone is going to Aid me 
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Jan 29, 2016 01:43
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 4/7 | XP: 0/10 Unmarking XP! Damage: 1d6 3 Tutresiel could appreciate a plan coming together. Because this was totally all planned. Yes. All of it.
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Jan 29, 2016 02:32
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 0/10 Tutresiel regarded the assembled abomination warily, mindless undead always possess a specific spiritual aspect known as the animus, a conceit that connects the body and soul of living, mortal creatures, which fundamentally is how perverse magicks manage to coalesce them into something as unholy they are, rather than purer magic that would involve simply animating the physical presence akin to an automaton. Many would not appreciate such a distinction but there are Laws that have long been written that concern this. Alas, Tutresiel was not in the position to invoke these Laws currently, so they would have to find another workaround in order to banish this fell abomination. Glancing over the side of the ship, Tutresiel could see the cold depths below, illuminated by the glancing eldritch lighting provided by ongoing battle and whatever sunlight that could weakly make it through the fog. Sussurating the Third Syllable of Dak'ratha, Tutresiel attempted a more vulgar manipulation of the illusion that many refer to as reality, attempting to force open another silvery, runed gateway in the depths, facing upwards (and allowing the full force of the seas above to press through it) and one at a distance from Tutresiel themselves, adjacent to the skeleton beast, and facing over the side of the ship itself. Fold Space (Wis): 2d6+3 11 The link was complete.It would be time to see how such a thing can deal with the force of the oceans themselves pressing upon it.
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Jan 31, 2016 17:42
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 0/10 Damage: 1d6 3 Alumnus Post posted:Your alien senses can still feel the presence of undead beneath the hull, out of the harsh sunlight: they're moving further away from you and sternward. What are they doing down there? With their captain gone, the spectral presence both in the form of the ghosts and the ghost ship fading, the skeletons now are largely masterless, and so they resort to their most primitive autonomous commands and desires, which given that they are mindless undead is largely limited to violence. However mortal passions also draw them like moths to a flame - similarly ghosts merely ape mortal passions as though through a broken mirror and feel resonance with something real and whole, and currently the greatest mortal passion here (in some twisted fashion) is the captain's obsession with the coin. Although that could well change. Tutresiel regarded Ramona's threat, but did not really consider it much beyond that. It made perfect sense that she might feel aggrieved by the turn of events that occurred, especially because it seems her primary suit of armour has been lost, however Tutresiel did not intend for it to occur in that fashion - she did after all decided to trigger the star herself. Regardless, Tutresiel did not voice any response along these lines, especially in the closed confines of the ship's deck, it would be necessary to keep such things at bay. Instead, Tutresiel merely nodded, a common response. "The abominations lurking below deck are likely looking for the captain. If we find him, we will find them." remarked Tutresiel as they cast their senses over the darkened rooms below deck, following the others. Assuming the portal that Tutresiel had made above deck had not begun to cause the ship to take on water, Tutresiel would likely leave it be - it might become useful, on the other hand if it looked like it was going to sink the ship then Tutresiel would close it, rather than jeopardize the journey any further. Discern Realities (Wis): 2d6+3 10 Choosing the questions: - What is about to happen? - What should I be on the lookout for? - Who's really in control here?
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Feb 1, 2016 17:32
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 0/10 While Ramona went off to personally deal with the engine room, bravery is a promising trait that will be necessary for what is to come, Tutresiel headed over to the portside until they could get a view of the outside. Cannons - an umber imitation of the great celestial lances of old (but imitation is a form of flattery, after all), had their flaws. The singular nature of its form of attack, for instance. With that in mind Tutresiel gestured as they sighed the Second Syllable of Dak'ratha, with their right hand they gestured in a open-palmed manner, away from the ship that Tutresiel was on, focusing another portal-based 'breach' between worlds at level with the cannon and pointing towards the ghost-ship, causing another silver-filled gateway lined with runes to manifest. With Tutresiel's left hand they gestured in a closed-fisted manner, towards the ghost ship, slightly lower than before, manifesting another similar portal, this one pointing again towards the ghost ship but instead below the other portal, aimed directly at the bowels of the ghost ship. Using the +1 from the previous Discern Reality on this roll. Fold Space (Wis): 2d6+3+1 12 Tutresiel shall see if this ghost ship can handle fighting itself. Alumnus Post posted:Is the coin of Ro-Bazzanoth dangerous? Why did you give it away when you knew he could become obsessed with it? The coin itself alone is nothing, only when collected and used appropriately can it become truly dangerous - a fact that actually protects the coins somewhat, since most who become so obssessed do not even notice or care about the existence of other coins, because that one is theirs. Nonetheless it was all a test, that the captain failed. If the captain's will cannot stand the presence of such a precious token, he will be useless when he encounters even a fragment of a syllable from the Head of Il-Chacham, first son of The Greatest Betrayer - or worse, he will be corrupted by its fell words and become its puppet. Naturally, he will have to be deposed, on the other hand there might be a far more suitable captain amongst us already.
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Feb 4, 2016 21:27
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 0/10 Being definitely aware of the danger, Tutresiel concentrated once more as they regarded the situation more deeply. Letting the swordspeople do their duty, and rather than creating a press of bodies that might otherwise create issues (especially with the environment being so treacherous as it is), Tutresiel forced an angry orange starmote into true existence, plucked from the heavens - from its brief moments after its parent star had changed into its next stage - causing the orangey radiance to suffuse all around Tutresiel, burning off some of the surrounding fog almost instantly. While still grasping the semi-stable starlet in their right hand, Tutresiel made a profoundly elegant yet simple gesture with their left hand, causing a miniature silver-coloured, rune-bedecked portal to form, and another companion gateway created near the undead. With expert timing, Tutresiel flung the star into the midst of the fell skeletons, timing so it would destabilise and rupture when it could catch them all in its blast. Nova (Wis): 2d6+3 7 Or at least tried to do that. Damage: 1d6 5 Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 19:57 on Feb 7, 2016 |
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Feb 6, 2016 17:52
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 1/10 With barely more time than to react, Tutresiel lunged back away from the source of the explosion-to-be, robes floating about them as they moved quickly for once - Tutresiel's usual slow pace shifting up for once. Defy Danger (Dexterity): 2d6+0 4 Or at least that was what Tutresiel had intended. Edit: forgot to mark xp Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 11:10 on Feb 8, 2016 |
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Feb 8, 2016 10:17
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 1/10 Tutresiel regarded the intense cold distastefully, no breath steamed around their mask as they looked about at the encroaching ghost ship, and up at the spectacle of the frozen bard being entombed in a suit of iron. It's probably better this way. A plan though, hmm. For a plan one would need more information. With that in mind Tutresiel shook their robes clean of any ice or frost that might have formed on the outer surface and began to move around fairly swiftly, as they opened their senses up to all that was around in hopes of finding something pertinent that could assist in such a dire event. Discern Realities (Wis): 2d6+3 11 Choosing the questions: - What here is useful or valuable to me? - What should I be on the lookout for? - What here is not what it appears to be?
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Feb 12, 2016 00:51
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Tutresiel HP: 14/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 Perhaps the most grandiose of secret wisdom was the Tenebrous Truth. But the more subtle implications of such truth would have to wait for another time. Suffice it to say that descent can be both figurative, and literal. Tutresiel considered the many possibilities that stretched ahead, however the more pressing concerns would have to be taken care of immediately. Tutresiel thought fast, extremely briefly grasping an after-echo of a forgotten fragment of a star that never was (it being retroactively aborted by the Ascension of the Five-Fold Prism of Tana'esh, quite a messy affair) in their right hand, causing its virulent green radiance to spill forth, followed by the keening echoes of its suffering, and dropped it at their feet. Unstable as it was, it lacked the vigour or energy to be able to do anything but provide a distraction, but a distraction was all that Tutresiel needed, with the fell creature bearing down on them, the alien light and noise made by such a short non-lived fragment would draw its attention immeasurably, with what it possessed of a mind simple enough that it the sheer sensations of such a fragment would distract it - but even then it is still an undead creature - a fell abomination, the strange nature of such a presence would undoubtedly draw its attention. With the distraction in place, Tutresie wouldl make a brisk run for the portal to the stern, large enough for themselves but not nearly big enough for this creature. Defy Danger (Intelligence): 2d6+1 4 Or at least, that was the plan. Marking XP.
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Feb 18, 2016 21:59
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Tutresiel HP: 12/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 Tutresiel's strange robes protected them from the brunt of the thrashing abomination, however it still damaged their form somewhat, incidental cuts for the moment - but these things could add up if they were allowed to continue. Even with the assistance of the brave and courageous Ramona, Tutresiel needed to get out from underneath this thing. Rather than trying to force it off fiercely, or making a nimbly quick turn that might slide from under it, Tutresiel instead attempted to weather the mindless thrashing by the toughness of their physical form and simultaneously push it away and roll off in an opposite direction, trying to take advantage of the attacks of Ramona in order to overbalance it and cause it to tumble over on its own, all of this down slowly and deliberately, being tenacious - rather than powerful. Defy Danger (Constitution): 2d6+1 9 Looks like a partial success unless someone wants to Aid poor Tutresiel!
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Feb 23, 2016 21:04
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Tutresiel HP: 8/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 Taking the damage, Damage (Tutresiel) (Armor 1): 1d6+1-1 4 Tutresiel shifted their balance to move the jagged bone away from the Pall, for who might know what would happen if that were to become ruptured? Receiving the wound with dignity, Tutresiel made little sound, however the wound could not be truly ignored, as some of Tutresiel's pale blood had begun to flow out. Still, time for dealing with the consequences of such problems would have to wait, and so Tutresiel rose up, the gore of the fell creature sliding off of Tutresiel's robes with a frightening speed, as though a great slipperiness was possessed of it, furthermore it seemingly left the robes clean, as though the material itself loathed filth and dirt. Still, this event was far from over. "The ghost ship should be handled sooner than later, it grows stronger on the souls of those it kills." reported Tutresiel as they glanced about, looking over to the captain once more and keenly watching the confrontation between Ramona and the crazed captain. But there was another here who possessed knowledge, it might be a worthwhile venture, especially given the circumstances to find them. With that Tutresiel concentrated briefly before setting a course of action, speaking to Serenity before they left. "There is someone of interest aboard, I will go find them." is what they said before leaving to go find this person, assuming the situation with Ramona and the captain did not immediately and dramatically deteriorate. Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 21:44 on Feb 28, 2016 |
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Feb 28, 2016 21:18
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Tutresiel HP: 10/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 Tutresiel's face was still unseen behind their mask, however their posture had shifted - giving a glimpse of their inner thoughts through their body language. Their wounds were not as bad as before, thanks to Serenity's lesser (yet perfectly adequate) magicks, something that Tutresiel would have to thank Serenity for later. "It is only just that such a deed be performed. The presence that taxes this vessel most sourly now is gaining momentum." is what Tutresiel said, as they spread their arms akimbo. Tutresiel cleared a space and used a strange stick of what someone might call chalk (if they were having a surreal nightmare - it was black and had an oily sheen to it) to draw an intricate circular pattern upon the ground. From their sleeves they drew forth seven off-white candles - each possessing distinct intricate red patterns upon their surfaces - and placed them at equidistant points along the edge of the circle. "Let us begin." announced Tutresiel, the candles still yet unlit, for now. Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 20:03 on Mar 2, 2016 |
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Mar 2, 2016 19:57
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Tutresiel HP: 10/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 Tutresiel did not reply vocally to Serenity's petty complaints, however they did nod in agreement, insight was insight - the search of insight was a noble task, mostly. However greater matters were afoot. Tutresiel knew the twofold importance of what they were doing, as well as maintaining the sanctity of those who still lived here, the wounded would especially be vulnerable to such an assault, if either of these events were allowed to unfold it could spell disaster for many. Concentrating deeply, Tutresiel attempted to eke out sufficient power from the ritual itself, simultaneously continuing dead cleansing aspect while projecting power outwards in order to ward the living present here against the encroaching darkness. Tutresiel clapped their hands together, clasping them tightly as they concentrated, evoking a silver-white glow about themselves as the projected their will, subvocalising additions and clauses in their holy speech, attempting to add further reach to the ritual, and to cause the script of the circle to extend outward, forming an outward projecting aspect - rather than merely inverting the ritual, attempting to add a two-fold aspect that was empowered by more efficient use of the power of the Silent God. Tutresiel forced their will upon the semi-malleable nature of the ritual in order to accomplish this, having already recognised the presence of AVTOTAR long before they managed to find their physical presence, Tutresiel was in tune with the fabric of reality in this specific room, which was all the area that they needed for this grand manifestation to cover. The light of the candles burned brighter and brighter... Using the +1 from the successful DR earlier to locate AVTOTAR. Defy Danger (Wisdom): 2d6+3+1 10
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Mar 6, 2016 21:05
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Tutresiel HP: 10/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 For once, calmness was restored (but for how long?), and Tutresiel had a moment to consider their next move. As they thought, they made the least sign of Ka-Toraq, causing the symbols and sigils that Tutresiel had drawn upon the floor to evaporate entirely, as though being burned away by an unseen blaze, before they gathered up the candles once more. "You have performed well, AVTOTAR. But tell me, how did you come across such knowledge? It is a rarity in these aeons that many know, and by now there are only a few sources of knowledge..." inquired Tutresiel to the weary quartermaster, extending an arm in order to assist the man in rising from his position, Tutrusiel's manner seeming almost human, perhaps these times in this world have affected them somewhat.
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Mar 9, 2016 18:50
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Tutresiel HP: 10/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/10 Tutresiel accepted the bundle of clothes gratefully, pulling the curved blade with deadly sharpness from the depths of the Pall. "For is it not said: 'The hands of a healer* are clean of the blood that stains them'." said Tutresiel as they got to work, using its keen edge to neatly trim the fabric into bandages. Not the most efficient use of time but a necessary one, would or could Tutresiel have mastered the truth of the illusion of presence upon this world then they could manifest in multiple places simultaneously. But perhaps that would be for another time. "It would not do for you yourself to expire while you attempt to tend to others, quartermaster. If you are seeking to assist the wounded and weary here, it would be best if you were the first one to receive succour, so that you might better perform your duties." stated the masked figure, the slightest touch of concern contaminating their voice. *Not a precise translation, some interpretations favour other professions.
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Mar 13, 2016 20:25
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 As Tutresiel spent a long time in silence tending to the quartermaster, they became keenly aware of why he might refuse the treatment of others. The brand of Lor-Mansyr, favoured scion of the last Merevonite dynasty is made over his heart, controversial to some but Tutresiel knew its true power, it would ward his heart against certain influences - the maddened (or some would say disquietingly lucid) mutterings of the Head of Il-Chacham included. Tutresiel surmises that AVTOTAR may have planned this, and he may have greater insights than Tutresiel would have expected (or someone else was pulling the strings and arranged all this, another distinct possibility). Nonetheless it is natural that he would want it hidden, for to some this is a sign of a true enemy, and neither the bard nor the sun-child can yet be trusted in that capacity. Alumnus Post posted:Did we learn something new and important about the world? Alumnus Post posted:Did we overcome a notable monster or enemy? Alumnus Post posted:Did we loot a memorable treasure? Will need to discuss with the others about these choices for End of Session questions. Drive: "Keep dangerous things away from those who would abuse them", the test of the coin that Tutresiel forced upon the captain proved that he would (in the future) abuse his station, and by showing the cracks through his mask of suitability, Tutresiel engineered him being removed from his station. Marking XP! Bonds: Tutresiel's bond with Ramona is no longer applicable due to her... uptake of a greater understanding of the cosmos, even if it was not a manner that Tutresiel would have preferred, such insights cannot be taken back easily. Due to bond being inapplicable now, Tutresiel marks XP. Creating a new bond: Serenity's brush with the divine (both heterodox and conventional) has started to change her, but she needs to be put upon the correct path. Tutresiel volunteers to cast their strange senses outwards in order to assist the navigation (and above all, safety) of the ship throughout the journey. Volunteering for Scout. Undertake A Perilous Journey (Scout) (WIS): 2d6+3 8 Edit: Editing in 3 XP from the questions, since it seems to be fine for everyone else. Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Mar 25, 2016 |
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Mar 24, 2016 18:10
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 Tutresiel took breaks between manning the radar and whatnot to meditate beside the unconscious body of AVTOTAR, a prime candidate for the realm of prophecy. Tuning Into Crazy FM (WIS): 2d6+3 14 Besides that Tutresiel made decisions where they were necessary. In deciding this, Tutresiel considered many things, amongst them was the fact that the Silent God before they became silent was a god of language, and tongues, and words, and laws, etc. with that it became clear to Tutresiel's strange mind that contact would be the first choice before any others. Hailing it by the radio would be the initial choice, which would also ascertain whether or not it was an actual vessel and not say, something far baser.
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Mar 26, 2016 19:14
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 As Tutresiel became aware that words of prophecy were being spoken, they held aloft the Cube of Araboth, having it listen and record, keeping these words safe and bound within the hyperspatial structure of the cube, for future reference if need be. - - - - Hmm. The lack of response was disconcerting, but what this implied could mean many things. Given that it seemed to be following the ship, and there did not seem to be any forces of nature that could be propelling it so synchronously with artificial movements of this ship, it was likely moving under its own power - whatever that was. Tutresiel's curiosity did not amount nearly enough to even consider personally trying to visit the pursuer, and the Cube of Araboth was better saved in its Insight for things more pertaining to the task at hand. Initiating hostilities here and now could prove more of a concern than would be necessary too, so it was the strange figure would ping it with the ship's active sonar. More information regarding what was being dealt with would be necessary before an appropriate response can be determine, assumption is not something to do if possible, after all.
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Mar 27, 2016 21:35
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 After all had settled and gone quiet, the dangers of the kraken and whatever else might lurk out there dealt with for the moment, Tutresiel descended into the bowels of the ship once more. The cook was dead. His mismatched beast slain. The kraken gulped its last breaths upon ocean. Its soul devoured by the hungry spirits who should never have been. These were all signs, all portents. Tutresiel knew that this meant that we were close. From here on in things would become more difficult. That thing lurking down there might well make its presence known, or the effects of its presence, or the ripples caused by these effects, or so on. Such intricacies were largely lost when it comes to prophecy. Regardless, it would be necessary for Tutresiel to take a different tact from here on out. The mysterious robed figure beckoned the servant AVTOTAR to accompany them as they descended into the depths of the stricken ship. A relatively secure place was found and the ritual was prepared. The circle was made, formed of a mixture of ink from a 'nightmare scribe', and ashes born of the flame of Shin-Tuta'al, painted into intricate patterns all focusing inwards, with syllables of warding etched around the periphery. The candles were lain, however this time their lights were as shadows, drawing in the surrounding light - lest it taint the potency of the heavens with its mundanity. Tutresiel doffed their mask, revealing only to AVTOTAR what lay beneath (although Serenity had previously witnessed this), and disrobed entirely, revealing the pale form that lies beneath - whorls of what seemed like black ink staining the 'flesh' in intricate patterns - a necessity in order to be able to wield certain Truths within the material world. Tutresiel entered the circle and sat down in a meditative position, their legs twisted over one another, their hands clasped together in a convoluted mudra. AVTOTAR proceeded as he had once been told, retrieving an ancient clay pot of primordial design from the Pall of Shekina, its periphery 'blooming' as always, to allow access to its interior. The words were spoken as the clay pot was unstoppered, the waxen seals broken for the last time in front of the electrum dish that had been placed in front of the circle, an oppressive silence suddenly dominating the chamber, from the vessel came a strange fluid, simultaneously the shiny and white, like polished ivory, but strangely silvery and akin to mercury. Its paradoxical nature straining the vision of those who would look upon it (however currently that is only AVTOTAR). As the vessel is emptied it crumbles to dust as though it aged a lifetime in a moment, kept together purely out of divine purpose, the dust blowing about the chamber and forming a slight haze. The dish is pushed closer to the meditating Tutresiel as the ritual begins in its earnest, the words are spoken, the wills are unveiled, the silence grows even more, choking out nearly all sound. Directly above the mudra that Tutresiel had struck, a burning, shining star of infinite effervescence has formed, scintillating with prismatic hues its glow suffuses the entire chamber - yet still kept at bay by the circle of inverted candles. As though in recognition of this glorious radiance, the strange, gleaming fluid rises up from its dish and rushes forth towards the meditating Tutresiel, striking the star and suddenly ballooning outwards with hidden radiance, the room darkening somewhat. The now energised 'fluid' coats Tutresiel entirely, at first forming a second skin, before growing thicker and bigger and bulkier over the next few minutes. Eventually it resolves into a glowing chrysalis, of ivory and silver, ink-like patterns criss-crossing it, a dim yet glorious glow forming from within, Tutresiel's shape now invisible from inside of it. Silence was predominant here, but occasionally a slight bass hum could be felt upon the edge of hearing, and within the stirring of the blood. With the chrysalis now stable, AVTOTAR relaxed, what next would happen would take time. But the hardest part had been accomplished...
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Apr 8, 2016 17:07
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 A great shattering, akin to a fortress of glass being struck by the wrath of the heavens, sounded out across the dim chamber as the chrysalis unformed itself suddenly, cracks and fissures forming on its surface almost instantaneously. However a split-second after it fragments into shards a great hush dominates the chamber once more, the shards rapidly turning to dust and that dust erasing itself entirely. Tutresiel rose forth from this mess and stood at their full height. Their form had changed dramatically. Although few had seen underneath all the garb that Tutresiel wore, especially the strange mask (which both now lay hung from a nearby chair), now it was more than apparent that they were different. It would seem that they are wearing armour now, but it perhaps is more than that, armour of glinting blackish bronze, with glowing patterns running up and down their form. A set of symbols are emblazoned upon the armour, their script arcane and strange (and similar to those seen to border the periphery of Tutresiel's portals). Impressive wings of the same gleaming bronze-black material stretch forth from the shoulders of Tutresiel. Exultant with the essence of Gis, Don, Fam, and Ur, Tutresiel gazed about the chamber as silence once more prevailed. "It is done." they announced. "We should waste no time, things will likely get more difficult from here on in." said Tutresiel as they grasped the folded up robes and mask and deposited them within the depths of the pall (which Tutresiel had once more attached to themselves), for a future time, its strange material incredibly light yet incredibly strong. For a moment Tutresiel gestured lightly, causing the energy lines that lie upon the surface of the armour to warp and coalesce into a shining lance of burning energy, however such a lance was rather unwieldy in close quarters, its true purpose evoked upon itself the will of its owner - to an extent - a burst of energy focused and unified and imprinted upon it the desire to kill - such a thing wishing to complete the task set for it. Content that it seems to be working as expected, Tutresiel unformed the lance, causing it to dissolve immediately as the energy lines reshaped themselves into their optimised forms. With that taken care of, Tutresiel ascended to the deck to find the others. Tutresiel's impressive new form being very noticeable. The gloomy rain sliding off of the armour without truly getting it wet, as though it was repulsed by its very nature. Seeing the elf and the automaton, Tutresiel strode forth, seeking to approach them, their motions eerily quiet for armour so... bulky. "Greetings again, blessed Greymist, 01. I fear things are going to become more difficult soon." intoned Tutresiel, their voiced having changed a little, becoming deeper.
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Apr 20, 2016 18:19
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 Tutresiel reached into the depths of the Pall of Shekina and one-handedly pulls out the robes and mask that they once wore, handing them to AVTOTAR. "Wear these, they will protect your mortal shell." commanded Tutresiel, relinquishing the items made of strange materials that come from beyond, almost completely weightless, yet they provide firm protection against mundane hazards, whether violent or otherwise, the rain itself being repelled from the slightly shiny material. Handing over the Ultra-light armour (1 armour, 0 weight) to AVTOTAR. Waiting for him to don all that was necessary, Tutresiel would then appraise the scene, waiting for the others to respond, they were better dealing with more mundane affairs after all, and they were better attuned to those concerns.
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Apr 26, 2016 20:32
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 With AVTOTAR now much less likely to die due to mortal frailty in the immediate future, Tutresiel kept watch upon Serenity, she was vulnerable - and more importantly, leverage that could be used in order to mollify the mortal drenched in the blood of others. Keeping her alive would be necessary for the moment, additionally her skills would be invaluable in the times ahead. Now this Security Chief Orson figure, aboard a ship known as the 'Expectant' might well be the most tangible lead down into the depths thus far. At least for the others, the automaton and Don-Tal-Un (or Dontalun) (as Tutresiel would mentally refer to Ramona as) could make it easily to the depths with little recourse, but Serenity, AVTOTAR and any others who wish to be upon this foolish quest will need a more appropriate vessel in order to reach the fallen city. Once Serenity was away from the healer, Tutresiel approached her once again. "For this venture to continue it will be necessary to get down to the depths. Additionally with us having to relinquish this vessel as a place of safety it should also be necessary unless the former means are secured rapidly, to find another suitable site.This is assuming our mutual associate has not found one or the other themselves, but by the sound of it things are not going as cleanly as we could have hoped. The... physician mentioned someone possessing the position of 'Security Chief', I am unsure if such roles would be so... hard-held in such a profligate settlement as this, they might well have ties to the man known as Warwick. What do you think about this?" is what Tutresiel said, their tone possessing a more... sinister or heavy edge to it than before, deeper in voice somehow. Although Tutresiel referred to Professor J.R. Warwick Froeddricksson by his name (thereabouts), they mentally referred to him as Van-Don-Veh (or Vandonveh).
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May 2, 2016 01:46
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 "I am unsure if approaching what dangers that lurk upon this place are best dealt with alone or together, although I could very well provide assistant to you if we were together, it is possible that other mortals might find my presence... disconcerting. This might hinder your efforts. What would you think is the best way to approach these issues? Regardless I have the one who has been known as 'Quartermaster Mills' at my side, in assisting our efforts." replied Tutresiel, their voice calm, their posture stony, as they gazed about idly, watching the skyline of the strange composite settlement as they spoke. As this was happening Tutresiel also thought to the possibilities that might lie before this loosely-bound group, and considered the possibility of all mortal means of delving the depths being lost. If such were to occur, Tutresiel would be forced to align the patterns and grant the group their own way to the depths. One of the chained leviathans that the God Who Would Become Silent bound at the beginning of time would suffice as a vessel, even these spiritually frail mortals could ride within its belly, it long having lost its fire to devour and now merely serve, its identify subsumed by the greater power. But the cost of such a ritual to summon and command such a being would be interesting no doubt. Tutresiel considered this as they spoke on much simpler subjects with Serenity. Should it be necessary, what cost(s) would it incur? (That is using the Dark Ritual move what conditions would apply for this?) Edit: Adding another interesting detail! Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 21:02 on May 3, 2016 |
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May 3, 2016 20:35
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 While Serenity spoke to a man mired in the depths of his own existence (a luxury that Tutresiel could not afford), Tutresiel drew out the Cube of Araboth from the pall that hung from their belt. Speaking a leastwise syllable of opening, it responded as such, coming to life once more. Gazing deeply into the wondrous device, Tutresiel concentrated on unveiling the facts of the past, present, and possibly future - things due to the profound nature of the Cube of Araboth it would have a simple time realising, but how comprehensible such facts might be is the other question. However what Tutresiel wished to know about as they touched their intellect upon the periphery of the cube itself, was information regarding Security Chief Orson. Who were they? Whom did they serve? Why? Did they have a way down? Were they a servant of Vandonveh? Were they a servant of the Head of Il-Chacham? Were they both? These questions and more pressed upon Tutresiel, regardless of how many the Cube might answer, Tutresiel ultimately wished to know more about this Orson. For this seemed like a more fruitful avenue of questioning, although Tutresiel considered the alternative it for the moment would remain a back-up plan, something to keep for if things get worse and other methods become impossible. Using the Cube of Araboth for this Spout Lore. Spout Lore (Int+1): 2d6+1+1 8
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May 11, 2016 15:14
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 "There was another servant of the Silent God who came to Aqualantis recently, after it had sunk. I must find what became of them, and if necessary continue on their holy mission. If it will help finding them then I will tell you the name that they went by: Hamon." replied Tutresiel as they regarded the cube, not looking directly at Serenity either - but since she was not looking towards Tutresiel either no-one would notice how rude anyone was being to one-another. Tutresiel's tone was as even and neutral as it always seemed, though when they pronounced the name of their compatriot there was an ever-so-slight shift making Tutresiel sound almost... pained? Perhaps it's just your imagination however, after all, as Tutresiel spoke there was a constant and slightly distracting susurrus emanating from the cube they held in their hands, these hushed glossolalic whispers might have just created some audible interference, after all. "Pray tell, why do you seek the sunken city then, teller of tales?" inquired Tutresiel in turn, their interest piqued. Elves were generally more interesting in the eyes of immortals anyway, since they too had a keen mind for plans that were long in motion and grandiose in execution, since they could survive to see its fruition.
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May 15, 2016 01:26
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 "Agreed, I feel Orson would be the best first port of call. Once his presence has been investigated we can further deal with whatever lies within this place. We should be cautious when dealing with Orson however, it seems that he is veteran of a war of some kind, involving many races. Hmm. From what visions I have gathered it seems possible that he has allied with Warwick out of fear of aging, a lust for immortality. A fear that I can sympathise with, I am surprised more mortals do not dedicate themselves wholly to trying to live forever. But then again if that were the case I doubt the short-lived races would have ever left their caves." replied Tutresiel as they slipped the Cube of Araboth, (now spent) back into the Pall of Shekina. "Regardless, if he is using some methods or pharmacology or enhancements given to him by Warwick, then he might be more than he seems, especially when it comes to conflict." mused Tutresiel as they gazed more directly at Serenity, the rain sliding off of the angel's form entirely as though repulsed by whatever material it was that they 'wore'.
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May 16, 2016 10:04
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 Tutresiel regarded the puny mortal, their life wasting away more dramatically than most, morbidities of flesh (and possibly spirit) having eaten away at them from within. The other mortals nearby fear this, a sign of contagion, perhaps? Moving closer to examine the man as Bloody-Handed Ramona made gestures and threats, Tutresiel pondered what malaise this might be. What disease might these mortals fear so much? And could either Ramona, or more especially at this juncture, Serenity become afflicted? Spout Lore (Int): 2d6+1 8 Perhaps Tutresiel knows something of this affliction, after all in making preparations to come to this dismal plane, it would be best to make attempts to know more about it.
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May 24, 2016 20:03
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 Tutresiel had struck a quandary. Decay. Or perhaps erasure. Hmm. The situation here and now seemed defused somewhat, but Tutresiel did not really care that much, at least if something really active was occurring then it could break Tutresiel from their inner thoughts but alas. There were several possibilities that crossed Tutresiel's mind. One was that the Broken Domain had begun to decay, for it was already broken (and for a reason so terrible that knowledge of it escaped the mortal senses, largely, except by broken half-dreams during storms where the walls between spaces had become sufficiently thin and the resultant lore drove many mad with insight into the greater cosmos), but such a possibility was very unlikely, unless something had gotten in, for otherwise it remains untouched, unmoved, and silent, the other servants of the Silent God barely moving at all, at least in mortal terms. The other possibility was the inverse, that something or someone was tapping into the Broken Domain in a manner that was unwise, it was unlikely to be Hamon or Tutresiel, as neither used pathways that involved direct manipulation - barring the piece of the Broken Domain that Tutresiel had brought with them, and even that was so minute (and currently secure in the Pall of Shekina) it shouldn't do much in that manner. Another possibility, although dimmer in perspective was less centred on the Broken Domain itself. It might be a sign that knowledge itself is decaying, but such an existential threat would bode very ill for this world if that was the case, if concepts themselves had begun to be eaten away by oblivion. Also troubling because to mortal eyes such decay would be invisible largely, unless they achieved some greater perspective their memories would be eaten away at the same rate and so something would vanish (possibly retroactively) with no fanfare at all, they would never acknowledge it having ever existed, and the only pause for thought that might occur would be if it cannot be fully retroactively erased because this would create an even greater paradox, and then their minds would likely shy away from such an uncomfortable non-existence. This would require further research to verify, but Tutresiel already had a few possibilities in mind that they would be unlikely to voice until things are clearer. However it's very possible that either a powerful mortal of some puissance may have caused this (either accidentally or with grim purpose) - perhaps J.R. Warwick, or it might be something more supernal in nature, the Head of Il-Chacham might be the cause. A grimmer possibility would be that this world itself is decaying, although in that case it seems unlikely that it would happen without cause. Regardless this would require more information before something more concrete can be determined. With that in mind Tutresiel's senses came back into focus as they surveyed the scene. The others seemed to have made the situation less possibly violent for the moment, but how everyone would react to all of this would be the next pressing concern, and so it was Tutresiel waited (somewhat tensely) to see how things would proceed, the rain sliding with eerie ease off of their 'armour' all the while.
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May 29, 2016 12:27
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 An inelegant term. But then perhaps Tutresiel has also been guilty of using terminology that might be too.... ambiguous in nature. Talking to the Security Chief will suffice for the moment, however. It might make things easier, after all, however given the proclivities of those present it might not be so easy to get an audience in the first place. Ah well, such are the nature of... plans. Keeping the reality of the situation in mind, Tutresiel moved to a defensive position - wary of oncoming violence due to the souring of diplomacy, something that is very possible with this group. A neck-high pile of crates containing some sundry or another (likely medical supplies given the snake/staff symbols it is emblazoned with, a symbol that Tutresiel knew somewhat of the origin of, a misreading of a line of a vision of a mystic in a desert having been visited by an angel of the god that would later become the Silent God, was to blame) presented itself however, which Tutresiel cautiously stepped behind, granting them the ability to duck or squat should they need to give themselves greater cover, while simultaneously allowing them some sight, not to mention the ability to do certain things... discreetly. Not willing for the moment to advance in an aggressive manner but unwilling to merely wait for the inevitable, Tutresiel ducked down a little as they reached into the Pall of Shekina and from its nigh infinite depths did they pull out a relic vaguely resembling a blue-silver hand mirror, the angles of its borders appearing strange and yet... aesthetically complete, as though this was by intent and its intent was complete (whatever that intent was), within its depths it possesses a brilliant blue crystalline sheet, simultaneously acting as a mirror and as something more transparent, depending on the angle by which it is held to the observer. Light seems to behave aberrantly when passed through (or cast along) the surface of the Cerulean Lens, and although its true purpose was decidedly more... bloody, it would instead be used for another purpose this night, to take advantage of its peculiarities. Holding the lens firmly, Tutresiel drew it up to 'eye' height and forced open space in the most simplest of ways, rapidly and repeatedly pushing the lens through the space between spaces in order to reposition it and grant some fragment of vision from various different angles, positions, and heights throughout this area - in hopes of ascertaining more pressing matters that only such a peculiar perspective might assist with. Discern Realities (Wis): 2d6+3 12 Choosing the questions: - What should I be on the lookout for? - What here is not what it appears to be? - What here is valuable or useful to me?
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Jun 3, 2016 20:48
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 Tutresiel stopped for a moment mid-flow, pulling back the lens and raising their other hand to head height and shoving it gently through another diminutive portal - this one allowing Tutresiel to put their hand upon Serenity's back. Tutresiel whispered through the portal, allowing only Serenity (and presumably anyone really really close to Serenity at that moment in time) to hear. "It is unfitting to assume. I took cover for the sake of being discreet, this distraction of rising tensions is perfect for me to... relocate or find Orson or his... method. Or all three. Meeting with Orson personally would make this less necessary." Tutresiel continued - still whispering, but did not expect a response, at least not right here, right now. It could wait, after all. "What do you know of the gods, do you know the truth?" was what Tutresiel asked before withdrawing the hand, abandoning that portal and resuming what they were just doing. Assuming things did not dramatically change just after this, of course. Even if things become less... hostile, Tutresiel will not necessarily abandon their position - just be less wary of maintaining full cover, until they are certain they've gleaned all information they can from utilising the portals in such a way.
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Jun 4, 2016 12:26
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 Tutresiel considered all of these things, although AVTOTAR's service would not be necessary for the moment, as they deposited the cerulean lens back within the pall. Tutresiel made a curt gesture for AVTOTAR to take cover before they began their grand work. With this in mind the angelic figure concentrated as they leaned around the crates, suddenly piercing the boundaries of space with a slicing gesture using one hand in order to create a sudden portal beneath the feet of the lone hitman (standing over a body) on the 'north' side of the Plagioclase, and creating a similar portal high high high (as high as Tutresiel could) above in the sky, but instead of being directly above the position that hitman would be plucked from, Tutresiel's other gripping gesture with the other hand was aimed above one of the other hitmen standing on the 'south' side of the Plagioclase. Tutresiel's grandiose view of the scene synergising well with the position of these portals. Using Fold Space, and taking the +1 Forward from Discern Realities. Fold Space (Wis): 2d6+3+1 16 And was completely unnecessary!!!
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Jun 14, 2016 18:26
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 It is not unexpected that a show of puissance might attract negative attention, especially from hired killers - bloodied coins. In the moments since, Tutresiel had forgotten that AVTOTAR had forsaken the sense of sight as a part of his enlightenment. Instead Tutresiel made a hushing sound and spoke low, even amidst all this chaos AVTOTAR would be able to hear. "Lie prone, we are under assault. If I do not return, remember to bear the Thalassite Sigil in the deeper places." is all they said before taking stock of where the impacts on the cover were coming from, as they still hid in cover - even if it was being splintered and damaged by withering hails of fire. The high ground would be necessary for an advantage but the question is how high? Myriad tales tell of the day being won by a true believer who utilised an advantage provoked by a moment of insight into the true workings of the world. With that in mind, Tutresiel gazed about from where they could see (as well as what they saw earlier in their grandiose exaggeration of vigilance), and plotted a course to another place of cover, this time elevated upon one of the other ships, and with that in mind Tutresiel deigned to breach space once more with but simple, silent gestures, this time underneath their own feet so that they would drop through immediately, allowing them to immediately reposition themselves, although it might seem selfish to leave AVTOTAR, the intent was not to strand AVTOTAR behind, but that rapidly the soldiers' attention would be drawn to Tutresiel's new position regardless, and they likely had not even noticed the meagre form of AVTOTAR yet. Fold Space (Wis): 2d6+3 9 Assuming nothing became dramatically different in the moment-between-moments that Tutresiel utilised in this stepping across space, the angelic figure would strike a simple mudra as they affected an aggressive stance, disbelieving the more subtle (and less onerous) aspects of space, they would lash out at one of the mercenaries (whichever was in the most advantageous position compared to Tutresiel's newest location) with heavy fists and feet in an attempt to crush them into the very deck they stand upon. It is said that the Broken Domain is forever stained by the violence that occurred there, and the infinitely fractal reflections of that domain that assail the mortal world inspired many terrible deeds. One such deed would be carried out here and now. Hack and Slash (Int): 2d6+1 13 Damage (Close, Near): 1d6 1 Or at least something to that effect.
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Jun 20, 2016 18:09
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 7/10 While wandering in the gardens, something that time and again mortals have tried to create but pale reflections of their true majesty in the mortal world, Torivir asked The-God-Who-Would-Become-Silent a question, stopping to gaze into the prismatic effervescence of one of the many pools. "In battle, what is the solution to ineffectuality?" is what she inquired, to which The-God-Who-Would-Become-Silent replied "Escalate. Always escalate, escalate until all is eclipsed by your might and none can ignore your power. For to deny someone's power is to deny their existence. Existence is everything." - The Adventures of Saint Torivir the Even-Handed, lost excerpts. - - - - Keeping such sage wisdom in mind, Tutresiel escalated. Pausing a moment with the baffling fighting style practised by few (known to those that study such things as the 3rd Path of Disillusion), still taking cover amidst the bric-a-brac of the top of the many ships that lay around this place, Tutresiel reached into the depths of the Pall of Shekina, pulling forth a glowing fragment of the Broken Domain, thus escalating the style to the 4th Path of Disillusion (called by the more braggardly as the 4th Path of Dissolution), and more than likely breaking any stealth or subtlety. Shard in hand, its burning radiance hissing against the rain - turning some into steam (or even plasma) instantaneously, other droplets being deflected long before they would reach it - even the rain knows better than to challenge such an infinitely recursive fragment of forever - Tutresiel began another assault, focusing primarily on the delivering of the shard to the target, using it as a weapon - the other hand and other limbs being used primarily to reposition or alternatively restrain the target in order to prevent them avoiding their inevitable death. Hack and Slash (Int): 2d6+1 13 Damage (Hand, Near, Messy, Ignores Armor, Thrown): 1d6 1 Destiny was on Tutresiel's side - to an extent, even a 'minor' wound with such an artefact could not be ignored.
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Jun 21, 2016 20:02
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 12/10 Now she had reached the statuary that many of The-God-Who-Would-Become-Silent's servants maintained, polishing each surface until it shined so bright it could not be looked upon directly (except by They-Who-Would-Be-Silenced), whistling in excitement at the multitude of myriad forms the statues took. She had known before that each of the statues represented one of the ancient leviathans that the god in her very presence had defeated long long ago, with this in mind she asked They-Whose-Silence-Would-Become-Deafening another question, for she was a curious one - and that was why she found such kindness in their presence. "What is the essence of hunger?" she asked, to which the reply came as: "It is want beyond all wants. A flaw, a break within the vessel that contains all that is. Thus it had to be bound away in sea, and sky, and earth, and star, and the others. Fractures cannot be allowed to spread, they are displeasing." - The Adventures of Saint Torivir the Even-Handed, lost excerpts. - - - - With their foe slain, splashed to the four winds, Tutresiel exulted. But upon surveying what remained of the battlefield, they found it was quiet, and still, only the sounds of the dying laying where they are or the sounds of cowards fleeing were to disturb this scene, that and the sounds of the exultations of the other still active fighters, but such is the nature of combat. With no-one else to face within a reasonable distance and no urge to finish the dark ritual that they had mapped out as a possibility, Tutresiel returned the fragment of the Broken Domain to the Pall of Shekina where it now-belongs, lest its seething hatred for such a base reality corrode more pertinent illusions. With that once more contained, Tutresiel spread their wings and dived down swiftly towards AVTOTAR, landing neatly by them. "Rise, oh servant. This conflict is over, but greater conflicts lie in the future." - - - - Later, Tutresiel would settle into meditation after such a faux show as Ramona making an attempt to drink herself into a stupor once more. Tutresiel could (and would, for it was necessary to maintain an existence upon a plane such as this) consume things but it was not pleasing and was very direct. The curse of hunger is unavoidable upon a plane stained by blood such as this, but the nature of Tutresiel's consuming of energy-dense substances and the hunger of living creatures came from different origins, but were somewhat related in a sense. End of Session: Bonds: Padre Clavo's is no longer applicable as he's no longer a player! Mark XP. Alignment/Drive: "Keep dangerous things away from those who would abuse them" this could be applicable in several instances, but the Kraken had a malign intelligence upon it, and if it had managed to lay claim to the myriad of wacky technology and magical artefacts that were aboard the ship at the time it was going to strike, it might have become an even greater threat to others. Similarly, but differently, Ramona is a dangerous thing - and death is the final abuse - ergo fighting those PMC dudes while she was helping Serenity out downstairs would probably also apply! Mark XP! Questions: • Did we learn something new and important about the world? Much! The nature of the Leviathans (to an extent), the abyss worms, the fact that there''s some strange fungoid plague about, and more. Mark XP • Did we overcome a notable monster or enemy? The kraken! Mark XP. • Did we loot a memorable treasure? I'd argue Tutresiel suiting up mid-session applies, plus 01 managed to loot an upsetting amount of guns, memorable if only due to sheer volume and variety. Mark XP? Will level up soonish.
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Jul 5, 2016 00:29
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/11 Tutresiel once more found themselves alone, or largely alone. They were accompanied by AVTOTAR of course, but he was blind to such insignificances. First Tutresiel took out a ration, and did what they always did - grasped it in a ritual manner, forming a link with each hand - covering the ration in its entirety - and focusing their will throughout and across it, but more particularly into, through, and out of it, like the current of a river, and with a soft hiss a dim light suffused it until the ritual was complete, and then the ration turned to ashes in a single moment - all its energy, all of its potential drained of it and it becoming no use to anything or anyone. This process worked with any food item, though the more energy-dense the better - so travelling rations like adventurers and soldiers would have were an easy choice - hypothetically it could work with any energy rich substance, whether it is gunpowder or more advanced explosives/accelerants, or fuels, however physically compact solids were preferable as they made the process more logistically sound. Using a use of dungeon rations. After this (and after AVTOTAR also ate his rations), Tutresiel began to meditate in place, concentrating on further refining the calibration between their soul and this mortal plane, further steadying their connection but also further allowing a greater expression of the potential that the soul that is Tutresiel within this fallen world. With this Tutresiel managed to reach up and pull another thread of the Broken Domain to them, further securing the link while allowing their soul to gain greater resistance against the corrosive mundaneness of the fallen world. Namely in this instance, dispelling the illusion that is singularity, for a vessel is merely that - a great soul can inhabit multiple vessels after all, and a vessel can and will be created around a powerful soul, even more than that was in fact the case, for the raiments of such a vessel follow suit and will mimic their master - for they know that is their purpose - an admirable quality, if only mortals could show such obeisance this world would not be as it is, and neither would the Broken Domain be so. Level Up: +1 Int Taking: Two Places as advanced move. Bond(s): Stathis has seen symbols identical to some that Tutresiel has etched upon their armour and that they cast upon the world with their magics - in the ritual that made him as he is. With their mind now fixed upon the inevitable future, Tutresiel considered their options and headed out into the more common areas of this vessel in order to get a greater idea of the itinerary for this expedition, with AVTOTAR in tow. Infinite Oregano fucked around with this message at 01:26 on Jul 8, 2016 |
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Jul 8, 2016 01:20
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/11 Tutresiel surveyed the map carefully, taking into account every marking, ever fragment of arcane formulae, ever contour and barometric divide, and every other note that might grace this map (as well as any hastily scribbled out or erased markings that might have indicated a prior line of inquiry that may have been quashed unreasonably), trying to determine any errant truths that become evident once the entirety of the picture is utilised. Tutresiel took the time to survey all that has been noted in order to determine what was really there, or moreover could be waiting for them. Discern Realities (Wis): 2d6+3 11 Choosing: • What is about to happen? • What should I be on the lookout for? • What here is not what it appears to be? "Hmm. The slums are definitely of note, that was where Hamon was last seen, at the least if they or what is left of them are not there then it would be a good place to find a trail to them. Other than that thought the geomantic upwelling is possibly... more than it seems. Which might make it a priority, or something to avoid. I know there is something of deleterious power down there and it could have been... detected in the form of a geomantic disturbance, after all it was buried in the depths of the earth so long ago, and bound away. But then again this could be something else entirely. Hmm. Still if it was the former then the Sinking might have disturbed the wards by such a dramatic shift of the land, and let some of its essence escape." murmured Tutresiel as they surveyed the map carefully, still ruminating on what they could determine from close scrutiny.
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Jul 9, 2016 12:00
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| # ¿ May 17, 2024 17:21 |
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Tutresiel HP: 17/17 | Armor: 1/1 | Load: 3/7 | XP: 2/11 "What is the crime of undeath, truly? Some live extraordinarily long, and some even use puissance to live longer, is there a great distinction for those who live beyond the means of death?" inquired Torivir as she and her host reached the Pools of the Forgotten, darker than the darkest of blacks and deeper than the greatest of abysses, for within the celestial realms extremes were what defined everything. For once, The-God-Who-Would-Become-Silent was quiet, for ever since Torivir arrived her gracious host had gregariously spoke to her and shown many insights to things that Torivir would not have ordinarily considered, but this quietness was different. Finally, The-One-Who-Whose-Voice-Would-Fall-Quiet responded after staring into the pools for an uncomfortably long time. "Death was not always there. Nay, I was not the one who created death, it was the First People, for when they committed the first sin - that of murder did Death come to be, for until then they could not truly die, but now they could. Undeath as a state is not merely avoiding the embrace of the Death that was so cruelly made - a fracturing of creation that can never be truly healed, it is to renege upon the duty that all those that can die now possess. A breaking of a sacred vow that they made with their first breath and complete with their last. To return from death to true life is not as great of a sin, it is more of a loan of time from Death if anything - to become undead is to refuse the duty entirely, a gross and colossal sin." is what they said, their voice resolute but tinged with sadness - and yet Torivir did not know why. Perhaps this was more personal than she had imagined. - The Adventures of Saint Torivir the Even-Handed, lost excerpts. - - - - Tutresiel did not truly respond to the abomination that stood in front of them. Undeath was a great crime in the eyes of the Silent God, and although Tutresiel was not as chosen as Hamon was and therefore not sworn to action, the idea of being allied with such a fell creature did not please Tutresiel in the slightest, especially because they were once of one of the more longer-lived races, and ergo owed a greater debt to Death than the more lively, and short-lived mortals. On the other hand them having to face such a dangerous situation as this might increase the chances of them suffering their true and final death. Finally Tutresiel spoke, while still concentrating on the map. Their voice was cold, and their tone direct and sharp. "Greetings." is merely what they said.
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Jul 11, 2016 18:38
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