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Petra M'orderial "You may well be right, Annetta," Petra remarks. "Perhaps this 'Ardranoth' is a mere impostor--it would not surprise me at all, but intuition suggests, to me, something far worse... I know little about this mage beyond the name, though judging from your expressions I am sure the lot of you are quite a bit more familiar with him. Do any of you know--would he have had the power to return from death?" "I ask because, Gladley, the creature in black you described, whose very presence seemed to snuff the light and warmth from you, may have been a..." He stops, as though trying to gather enough venom and anger in his throat. For Petra, that is ordinarily a difficult affair, but not so when the undead are concerned. "Lich."
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Feb 18, 2009 23:42
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Barely having begun parsing Annetta's summary of the letter, the warlock's question causes Gladley's frown to deepen. "Shard? No, no idea what that might be. – Well – there was that small box we were supposed to deliver to the Academy; didn't tell us what was in it, and when it comes to Academy business it's not smart to ask questions, they say, so –" A shrug. She is clearly less concerned with the missing item and more concerned with what the other woman was saying about her fellow guards. "Maybe that was it? Haven't ever heard of any 'Shard' myself, for what that's worth. – But what was that you...?" she begins to ask, turning pale as the meaning of Annetta's words begins to dawn on her. It is then that Petra speaks up. Gladley grows paler still, perhaps on account of these grim new revelations, perhaps on account of memories of that confrontation flooding back again. "You're saying they might b– they are..." She falters, her gaze dropping to the forlorn-looking weapons in the best, then back to Petra, pleadingly. Whether Ardranoth could have been brought back from the dead – or have returned on his own – is difficult to say. There are certain measures that can conceivably be taken to prevent a given soul from ever returning to the world again, difficult and little-known though they are; whether this was actually done after he was slain, no one present knows, only that the Chalice was destroyed. Finally, with a question like this not having been raised since the Eclipse – and indeed only very rarely even before that event –, none can be certain what, if anything, may have changed in that regard, though only a fool would discount the possibility altogether. MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 03:52 on Feb 19, 2009 |
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Feb 19, 2009 01:48
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Taldrel Darlhunt Ardranoth. A name Taldrel had seen only in history books, but a name Taldrel paid great attention to. He had fallen of his own hubris, his lust for power exceeding his grasp and he was brought down by men who, once bitter enemies, unified to end him. Ardranoth was a lesson in humility, a lesson Taldrel had taken to heart. The thought of facing the man personally terrified him. The fact that their hunch was correct was of little consolation. Someone, Ardranoth, or someone claiming to be him, was powerful enough to commission these hobgoblins to raid this particular caravan for a very particular artifact. The sole fact that this person went to such great lengths to attain it made Taldrel want them not to have it - it was his experience that men who sought such power were not the type of men worthy of holding it. The final paragraph of the letter Annetta had read held Taldrel's attention the most. It appeared that Nathrak had occupied this place long before he was requisitioned to raid that caravan, and that he was looking for something. Something his superiors were willing to help him find, but cared little for. Taldrel suspected the other scroll, the scroll that came with the letter Annetta had read, had something to do with Nathrak's superior's offer of help. It seemed to Taldrel that they would be facing this 'Ardranoth' sooner or later - even if he had nothing to do with the task they had been assigned, he was clearly a man of power and influence the world would be better off without. Though he fears it, Taldrel suggests the use of the second scroll to unbar passage of the tunnel they passed on their way to this office. Clanpot Shake fucked around with this message at 05:28 on Feb 19, 2009 |
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Feb 19, 2009 05:17
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Petra M'orderial After offering a consoling arm to Gladley, he continues. "I am curious how long ago this note was written--I'm sure you can all tell why. And I am likewise curious what Nathrak was looking for down here. But we truly, truly need to rest soon. My body will not take much more stress."
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Feb 19, 2009 05:41
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Landra Looking between the broken chest and the dejected Gladley, with the recited letter still dripping with menace in her mind, she can only nod as the answer to her long-held question presents itself. She gathers the remaining weapons in the chest and offers them to Gladley, remarking quietly, "Better, I think, to take them with you. One reunion can augur more." Her expression curls with disgust as she turns to the others, and she pronounces the name "Ardranoth" like a vile, venomous curse, almost hissing out, "Why could you not stay dead and gone?!" For Petra's surmise makes a chilling sense to her. Shaking her head to calm herself and regain her composure, she eventually adds, "The timing of the note is fairly straightforward: it can hardly have been more than a few days ago, given when it suggests this...Shard would be moved. For myself, I wonder who Nathrak's traitor is...but I suppose they are dead and gone." A slow shrug, and she goes on. "Yes, we need our rest. But do we stay down here and see what lies beyond that collapse? Or do we leave, go to Farling, see what we can find out about whoever sent this Shard, and go on after the High Mage's quarry? If only we knew what the hobgoblins had hoped to find...it might not be worth it in the end."
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Feb 19, 2009 10:16
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Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven "I suggest we escape from these tunnels as quickly as possible. If that letter's reference to 'what lies below' refers to the passages under our feet, I'd rather not spend too much time in here. Perhaps Brachis can show us out the way we came." "As for our fallen companion, revival is an option but not without funds. As we are employed by Academy, they might find it within their power to provide the requisite resources for such activity. A valuable life is surely worth it." MMA: Not sure if you rolled a History check for us automatically on Ardranoth, if not I'll take a shot. All: Sorry for the absence, I was ill for a couple days there and remained rather incoherent.
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Feb 20, 2009 00:32
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Petra's comforting touch barely even seems to register with Gladley, provoking no response but a brief, faint shudder; when Landra hands what must be her companions' weapons to her, she faces the eladrin, the dreary look in her eyes making it clear she is anything but convinced by the fighter's words. Taking the implements of war, her expression distant, she slowly tucks the axe and wand into her belt to the best of her ability and slings the bow across one shoulder. While the rest of you discuss your options, she continues staring at the opposite, empty corner of the study. Eventually, though, Gladley turns to Petra, holding the two shortswords out for him to take. "Thank you for letting me use these," the woman says softly. "Don't need them anymore." After a moment, she adds, hesitantly: "Can I ask you something?" Yup I rolled for all. Corel apparently was asleep during history class!
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Feb 20, 2009 01:24
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Petra M'orderial "You absolutely may, madame," Petra replies, taking the short swords calmly and wrapping them in some leather before stowing them. "And fear not. If we come across this creature, we will kill him. And we will do it for good." "We may continue exploring if the rest of you wish, but we might just as well barricade this door and have a rest here."
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Feb 20, 2009 05:38
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"Why – why didn't they take me?"
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Feb 20, 2009 21:07
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Annetta "I don't know. But, if nothing else, leaving you alive has given you a chance to avenge them or if, gods willing, they are still alive, to save them. You have given us help in this, and I will do what I can to right this. I... I am not a great and wonderful person, I have done a few things I have come to regret, but I will do what I can to bring this fiend to justice. For your compatriots, and for Alagand." Annetta fixes a scowl on the piece of paper, shaking her head as she folds it and places it into one of the many pockets on her backpack. "Alagand wasn't a friend, I hadn't known him, known any of you really, long enough to call him that and be truthful, but he was a man I could respect and admire for what he did. I'll do what I can to bring him back, and to learn my art more so I can prevent some such thing from ever happening again."
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Feb 21, 2009 06:25
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Landra "So fierce, Annetta? Good." Landra stands up straight, looking around the room. "But I think I agree with Corel: we should leave this place. Whatever is down there, it will probably still be down there when we can come back - especially if we take that scroll - and all we know is that the warlord wanted it for his own sake, not for his master's. It might be a little less urgent than anything else on our rapidly filling plate."
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Feb 21, 2009 22:31
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"Ma'am, you saw what these hobgoblins did to me, and you've seen how...useless I was just now," Gladley responds, sounding dejected. "How could I avenge anyone when I can't even defend myself against such foes? It's not a battle I could ever hope to win. I'm not like – like you," she says, looking at her saviours with a faint mix of jealousy and reverence. "To say nothing of the botched escort job itself. If I do make it back to Farling, I'll be in a whole lot of trouble." Still, when she looks at Annetta, there's a hint of gratitude in her eyes for at least trying to make her feel a bit better. Unless anyone objects, I'll assume you will head back topside shortly then.
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Feb 23, 2009 04:45
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Coreladdabar is all for gettin' out ... but: we need to decide what to do with Alagand's body. Gentle Repose? Hack off a part and bring it along? Both? edit: or per IRC discussion, stuff the corpse in a bag of holding? Divide out equipment to spread the weight? Spendin' the rest of my surges. Stormtrooper fucked around with this message at 05:11 on Feb 23, 2009 |
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Feb 23, 2009 05:04
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Landra Landra shakes her head slightly, as Gladley speaks of blame and trouble, answering firmly. "We'll probably want to speak with your paymasters in Farling anyway - I doubt they'll know what they were guarding any more than you do, but they may well know who hired them to carry it. And just let them try and blame you for this - we can set them straight if anyone can." Her lips quirk into a brief smile as she adds, "Sometimes being well-known comes in handy for more than ego's sake." Having said her piece, she gives the study one last once-over to make sure they've picked it as clean as they can before they head for the surface, and then, glancing around, lifts a carpet off the floor and steps out to deal with Alagand, carefully but quickly - strip his armour, wrap his corpse, and put it in the bag. She calls back into the room, her voice weighed down by her grim task, "Does anyone else have a bag of holding? I can take his body in mine, but someone else will need to carry his arms and armour."
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Feb 23, 2009 05:24
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Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven "Aye, I've got one. Let us finish this and be on our way." Coreladdabar reverently places as many of the items in his bag as he can. unless someone has a better idea
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Feb 23, 2009 05:28
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Taldrel Darlhunt "I don't have a bag of holding, but I've got some spare room in my bag. I'll carry what I can." Taldrel says grimly. As much as he wanted to press forward, now was the time to regroup. "Let's be on our way then." "And if Alagand is truly not lost to us, I'm going give him hell for riding with Landra's dirty laundry," he says with a wicked grin. Been real busy lately, sorry I haven't posted in a while.
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Feb 23, 2009 06:43
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Landra "'Give him hell for', or 'ask him for details about'?", Landra retorts teasingly as she takes up the bag and its grisly cargo, moving to take the lead when the group gets moving.
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Feb 23, 2009 14:12
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Petra M'orderial Something sits uneasy with Petra about the idea of stuffing a deceased warrior into a bag to be smuggled out of a dungeon, so he offers Landra a hand, trying to lay Alagand as gently into the bag as possible. "I'd offer simply to carry him myself, but frankly I am not too sure I could handle the weight." He responds somewhat curtly to Taldrel's jest. "One of our friends is dead, and we do not know if death will surrender him back to us. A bit of respect for those facts would certainly be appreciated." back to the surface then, I suppose
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Feb 23, 2009 20:07
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Landra "He would understand, Petra." While her tone is graver and more dignified now, a quicksilver change from ribald jests with Taldrel, she doesn't seem chastened at all by Petra's comment - though her expression is grateful to Petra for his aid, and her response is gentle. "There are always times when you must laugh, lest you cry. It is no disrespect, just a different way to cope." Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 21:21 on Feb 23, 2009 |
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Feb 23, 2009 20:56
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Brachis leads you out of the fortress again as unerringly as he led you to Gladley. The final, long flight of stairs has the woman shaking her head in wonder at the subterranean prison she was taken to, but her relief at being able to leave it behind is obvious, and perhaps even stronger than any similar sentiments you yourselves might have. Eventually, you feel a cool breeze of evening air on your faces, and a few moments later you emerge out of the stone portal and into the night. It is dark outside now, though a few pale specks of light in the canopy high overhead may promise some degree of moonlight; the light wind that is blowing is pleasantly cold, feeling positively alive after the dry, still air down in the hallways of the dwarven uzghâ-zol. Gladley takes a deep breath and stretches languidly, as though she has only now been truly freed from her imprisonment; then, after studying her surroundings, she turns to you again, looking a little lost. "So, where to? Are we where I think we are?"
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Feb 23, 2009 23:50
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Annetta "Having no idea where we are, I would not know I am afraid. We just followed the road on the expectation that it must lead somewhere when we found Brachis out here," she said with a sigh of relief as they were once again out in the open air. The faint but constant claustrophobia finally leaving her as she once more reached the open air.
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Feb 24, 2009 00:14
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"What I mean is, we were near a forest when we were – when they ambushed us, and this looks like a forest too, from what little I can see." She shrugs, vaguely sheepish. "Stupid question, probably."
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Feb 24, 2009 00:19
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Landra "We certainly aren't too far from town, or from where you were taken - just deeper in the forest you were near." She, too, sighs with relief at the breaths of fresh air, and the motion carries through into a sort of full-body shrug, working out the tension that had built up while they were beneath the earth. "At the very least, we know the way back to the Farling road. We can head up the road until we find where we left the horses, and set up camp for the night."
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Feb 24, 2009 00:22
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Annetta "Sounds like a plan to me. I'm tired and ache in places I don't want to think about. Need to get somewhere we can rest up. Maybe find someone to do a sending for us? Unless one of us happens to know the ritual as well. I'm afraid I don't."
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Feb 24, 2009 00:37
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Petra M'orderial Petra is quiet during the journey out of the fortress and only breaks his silence now. "Indeed, let us see if we can find our mounts. Our camp ought to be discreet, though. Remember that two hobgoblins escaped our battle."
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Feb 24, 2009 03:18
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You follow the trail through the woods, torch and magic both lighting your way, and before long, you arrive back on the clearing. Drenched with moonlight, it is a peaceful sight; even the rushing of the waters within the ravine seems quieter somehow, a gentle lullaby in the night. In the dark sky above the treetops, there isn't a single cloud, and the moon sits full, bright and round amid a field of twinkling stars. The wind rustles in the branches like a distant song; other than its soft murmur and the subdued sound of the beck down in the ravine, not a single sound is to be heard. Everything appears at rest, and at peace with itself; those of you with a connection to the Fey, be it in your blood or in your mind – or perhaps both – feel especially at ease. The hobgoblins' corpses still lie where you left them. Gladley approaches them hesitatingly, as though they might spring to life again at any moment. No such fears do come true in the end; the woman stands beside the decapitated body of the warlord for a long time, silently staring at her captors' mortal remains. Eventually, spitting on the warpriest's corpse, she turns on her heel and rejoins you, but not before examining and picking up the mace still lying by his side. "Did you forget this?" she asks no one in particular, holding up the enchanted weapon. A short way in the woods beyond the ravine, you find your horses. Amazingly, no hurt appears to have been done to them, and neither have any of them managed to break loose. Some of them do appear a little nervous as you draw near, but perhaps Brachis' presence is to blame for that; the pseudodragon himself, on the other hand, hardly even seems to take notice of the animals, remaining perched on Gladley's shoulder and looking vaguely smug, if such a thing is possible. "That is Arngrim's horse," Gladley murmurs as she draws near the horse you found roaming the road riderless earlier today. It eyes Brachis uncomfortably, but easily allows the woman to handle it. "Can...should I be taking this one?"
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Feb 25, 2009 05:52
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Annetta Tired, a bit cranky on the inside even if she didn't show it, the Warlock looked at the forgotten mace and shrugged. "Guess so, I've little interest in things beyond books truth be told, so you or whoever wants it, go for it," she said as she went up to her horse, climbing atop it uneasily. She may have been born a country girl, but she'd taken to the scholarly life like a duck to water. Horses were not involved, beyond things that people bringing her stuff rode. In response to Gladley's question about the horse, Annetta gave a shrug, "I would think so, unless you and the horse have some secret feud going on."
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Feb 25, 2009 06:13
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Landra "You need a horse. There is a horse - actually, two. I'm sure neither of their riders would begrudge you." The last sentence sounds - and feels, to Landra - tacked on, a token effort to show empathy: she is tired, and battered, and propriety sometimes slips, even leaving aside the lurking madness of fey morality. Knowing herself too harsh, she stops herself, takes a deep breath. Cool air, clean air, a starry night, and trance not far. She could reflect, recenter her nature, restrain the ghaele. "But we need not go far, anyway - just to find somewhere to camp for the night. Frankly, here might even do - obviously the horses have been safe here, so any escapees have not paid a visit." Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 07:58 on Feb 25, 2009 |
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Feb 25, 2009 07:56
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Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel walked in silence til they reached the horses. He wasn't in a particularly gloomy mood, he simply had nothing to say. He nods at Landra's suggestion, saying, "Yes, we should camp here for the night. It's already late and we soon won't have much light."
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Feb 25, 2009 21:15
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Coreladdabar IV of Lockhaven Coreladdabar, beaten and bruised, trudges to his horse and ensures its well-being. It seems to have survived its time alone, and indeed seems only perturbed slightly by the presence of the pseudodragon. Coreladdabar is sure the horse has seen far greater (and more angry) beasts. "Landra's logic is sound. The horses seem undisturbed, if there were danger lurking about, they would be scattered or killed. Let us camp here and move on quickly as soon as the sun rises."
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Feb 26, 2009 04:52
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If anyone besides Landra is going to keep active watch, they should say so now.
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Feb 26, 2009 05:39
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Taldrel will split the night with her, forgive me if I don't write it up IC.
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Feb 26, 2009 05:51
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The night passes uneventfully. After your recent encounter with death – in more than one way –, sleep comes easily, deep and, perhaps thankfully, without dreams, resting the mind as much as the body. A glimmer of brighter light beyond the treetops high above herald the rising sun the next morning. Gladley is among the first to be up and about, walking her companion's horse up and down the path and examining what remains of the wound on its haunch. It promises to be another cold fall day, though so far at least there looks to be no rain. That's OK. Edit: also, I'm going to need a list of which spells Corel prepares for today. MMAgCh fucked around with this message at 19:57 on Feb 26, 2009 |
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Feb 26, 2009 19:38
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Annetta Chewing quietly on her rations, the wonders of hard tack and jerky, she mused to herself. She just felt drained despite the rest, the thought of losing a companion and her own mortality distracting her to some degree. "I still wonder why the hell those armors didn't attack us. Guess they must have been spelled to stay within the room or something. Small luck there at least," she said absently as she finished up, following her plain and dry breakfast with a long gulp of water. She rather wished she could get herself a bath sometime soon, not something practical in the field, but she knew she must smell like a horse by now, if not worse. While she didn't complain, she was still more a scholar than an adventurer in her mind. "So then, what is today's plan of action?"
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Feb 27, 2009 06:07
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Landra Is this really only our third day on this road? Sitting in a lotus position on her bedroll amid the predawn light, eating a Spartan breakfast of trail rations, she still felt a bit of awe at the march of events, and their speed. The Great War had been one thing, mundane for all its scale, but the more uncanny worlds had already begun to reach for them all, this time. And we will only be drawn deeper before this quest is over. But we are - we must be - up to the challenge. Greeting the rising sun with the last few bites of her food, she clambers to her feet to start packing up her camping gear and strapping on her armour. The time for introspection was done, the world and its chores had returned, and they had a ways to go today. Annetta's question rang out then, echoing her own mind. "On to Farling, I would say: we should get there by the end of the day, and be able to find a temple for Alagand, talk to whoever we need to on Gladley's behalf, and find somewhere for her to recover." She glances at the woman in question as she sees to her borrowed horse, pausing a moment in case she wants to interject at all. "And at the end of all that, a real bed before we're off after our wayward wizard." Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 07:09 on Feb 27, 2009 |
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Feb 27, 2009 07:05
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Petra M'orderial As Petra lays on his bedroll, his sprawled and chaotic position in stark contrast to his usual serene and compassionate self, the dreamlessness of his sleep continues to unnerve him. He hasn't dreamt once since the Eclipse. In days past, he occasionally dreamed that his mother spoke to him from the afterlife. Exactly eleven times, he ruminates. Once the night I took the oath of paladinhood and ten times since. He arises a little early, just catching the end of Taldrel's watch, and cleans his armor a bit--only the parts that have been tarnished by blood, not the ones covered in grime and muck. "Farling it is," he says, and offers his companions food from his everlasting provisions. "Might we stop and see if the hobgoblin we captured earlier is doing well? There does not seem to be any danger in freeing him now. He may even be cooperative now that his leader is dead." How he could help us, I have no idea. But a wiser man than I once told me that the truest measure of a person is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good.
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Feb 28, 2009 00:21
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Gladley does, in fact, appear just as eager as you to get going, and once you've all broken your fast, you mount your horses again and set foot – or hoof, as it were – on the path back. Landra's estimate seems about right; if you make good time, you may be able to reach Farling late this night. Time passes. The forest around you is as quiet as it was the day before, with no signs of any bird or beast to be seen, as though it were still sleeping. Perhaps it indeed still is; it seems as though the trees here might well sleep forever. You haven't been riding long – it is still morning, a pale, golden light suffusing everything now – when you spy something in the woods beyond the trail, two unmoving, dark forms amid the undergrowth that bear a more than passing resemblance to bodies. If there's anything else anyone wanted to do/take care of while still at the campsite, please do feel free to post about it anyway; it can take place retroactively just fine!
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Feb 28, 2009 04:47
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Landra Petra's question pulls her up short, as she's walking across the campsite to check on her horse - it's like someone tugged on an invisible string, and it's all she can do not to wheel around and stare at him in mocking disbelief - indeed, she answers the paladin without looking at him, knowing she can barely keep a straight voice, let alone a straight face. I could kick Maele. Right in that saintly face of hers. Calm, she needed calm. The paladin had his good points right alongside his aggravating moments. After standing still briefly, she answers, in a tone schooled to offhandedness. "It's not like to co-operate after we killed its leader and scattered its tribe - nor, really, do we need it to - and it's likely escaped already anyway. But it can't harm us on its own, so feel free to release it if we pass the spot. I'm sure you'll feel terribly guilty otherwise." She shrugs, and moves off to make the last of the preparations and be on their way. It's an easy enough ride, with its own contemplative quiet to it, until the "bodies" are spotted in the undergrowth. She looks around a moment, in an attempt to get her bearings, before pulling her horse up short, guiding it to the edge of their path so she can get a closer look. Perception at +9, trying to make out some details about the corpses. Also, Nature +7 to figure out if we're near where we left the goblin yesterday. Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 05:14 on Feb 28, 2009 |
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Feb 28, 2009 05:01
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Though she can't be perfectly certain, the bodies look like hobgoblin corpses to Landra. They don't look to have died any particularly violent deaths – by dismembering, say, or something of the like –, though the ground does appear to be stained black with blood beneath the head of one of the bodies. In terms of distance to where the captured scout was left behind, the eladrin ventures to guess that the site in question is still about half an hour away, maybe a little more if one is on foot.
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Feb 28, 2009 05:22
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Landra Need no escort, indeed. If only there were three corpses here, just for the sake of poetic justice. "It looks like our friends with the crossbows have met their ends. Feel free not to mourn," suggests Landra after taking her first good look at the corpses from atop her horse. And then she pauses, her eyes lingering. "But. Someone had to have killed them - animals would have left more of a mess, I think. Perhaps they'll leave us alone." Not bloody likely.
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Feb 28, 2009 06:45
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