|
Alagand Maybe I oughta learn this one, Alagand thinks as the campsite erects itself before his eyes. On the other hand, he muses as the group sits down to eat, seems we already got that covered, so maybe that'd be... redundant. This thought makes Alagand freeze for a moment, his food held against his lips. It has been a long time, he realizes with a touch of awe, since he has had a thought so non-self-reliant. He shakes his head ruefully, unsure what to make of this realization, and finishes his meal. Once he's certain Annetta is asleep, he says quietly to Landra, "If you take fourth watch, we can let her sleep. She's had a rough day." I get all the new pages! 
Nimlach fucked around with this message at 05:37 on Sep 17, 2009 |
#
?
Sep 17, 2009 05:33
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 26, 2024 16:20 |
|
|
Landra The eladrin stands still, impressed as she watched the wooden men do their work. "Like something from home," she notes to Badger, with enough emphasis on the last word to convey exactly where she means. "Though they wouldn't have been nearly so well-behaved in the Feywild, barring some sort of vulgar display of power." While Taldrel and the others dug into their meal with varying degrees of enthusiasm, she looked on towards the keep in the distance for a moment - reminiscence is written clearly on her face for all who can see it in the light, "And will we find you there still, Lady, you and the dead you will never flee?", she asks the night breeze, before returning to the camp. She, at least, looks entirely pleased with the fare despite - or perhaps because of - its provenance, eating her fill and more besides - it had been a strenuous day, a long day, that left her sitting next to Alagand in time to hear his comment, and look back over the sleeping Annetta as if to answer. "How thoughtful of you. Is there something I should know?" she eventually whispers back, the sly amusement leached out of her voice by the need to be quiet, yet rolling along in an undercurrent on her face. "Teasing aside, you are right. I'll likely be wide awake by third watch, so I'll gladly take fourth as well. Good night, Alagand. We did well today." She smiles brilliantly, and rises to seek her bedroll, waving to anyone still awake.
|
|
#
?
Sep 17, 2009 08:32
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Having finished his meal, Taldrel stayed by the fire as the others went to bed. Some of them seemed exhausted, but he himself felt restless. A lot had happened. A lot to think about. He propped his spear and shield on a nearby tree in easy reach and settled in for a few hours of keeping watch, a task he had a great deal of experience doing.
|
|
#
?
Sep 18, 2009 03:30
|
|
|
Badger's little servants, dismissed for the time being, gather on the roots of the nearby trees, where they lift their twiggy arms upwards and stand swaying lightly, like grass moving in a summer breeze. Meanwhile, the others going to sleep sooner or later, Taldrel is before long left with only the crackling fire and the soft patter of falling rain to keep him company on his night-time watch. It must be close to midnight, or perhaps slightly past that hour, when the warlord spots something in the distance: lights appear to the north, approaching from about the same direction as he and his allies before. Given the prevailing darkness and the fact that they are quite far away, however, he cannot discern any more about them at this time.
|
|
#
?
Sep 20, 2009 18:36
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel is somewhat surprised to see travelers out so late. At least, he hoped they were travelers. From their direction they appeared to be coming from Farling, but he couldn't imagine what business they could possibly have traveling so late at night in such darkness. Quietly he made his way to where Alagand (who had the next shift) slept and woke him, trying his best not to wake the others. Whispering, "Something is coming this way," pointing toward the lights. Perception +8 to try to make them out.
|
|
#
?
Sep 20, 2009 19:20
|
|
|
Alagand The elf is awake instantly, supressing his lingering drowsiness with a ruthlessness born of years of solitary paranoia. Seeing the lights Taldrel has indicated, he silently slips among his companions, shaking them awake with his finger against his lips. "Better to lose a few minutes' sleep than to be unprepared for danger," he murmurs apologetically in Elven. Only when the entire party is awake does he peer into the gloom, concealing himself among the trees as he does so. stealth +20, perception +18
|
|
#
?
Sep 20, 2009 23:52
|
|
|
Slipping silently into the trees with all the gravity of a ghost, and tripping equally silently over an unseen root, it occurs to Alagand that at this distance, their own campfire is more likely to give him and his companions away than his own nigh imperceptible presence. Even though the elf's eyes usually are as sharp as an eagle's, however, he finds himself utterly unable to perceive anything that might hint at the purpose or nature of the curious, distant lights; the darkness is too deep, perhaps, or else the thin but persistent rain makes for too hindering a veil. Taldrel fares marginally better: to him, it seems that whatever the lights are, they aren't torches or any other kind of open flame – their luminance is too consistent, their brightness and shape too unvarying; even stars in the night sky, by virtue of their twinkling and flickering, appear more animated than these do. Guess which of you got a natural 1!
|
|
#
?
Sep 21, 2009 00:44
|
|
|
Alagand Unable to make anything of what he sees, Alagand simply settles into the shadows to wait. not trying to have us avoid detection - probably too late for that anyway. Just trying to give us an extra edge if they show up and are hostile.
|
|
#
?
Sep 21, 2009 01:12
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt "Well they're not torches..." Taldrel mutters, squinting. "Look more like forest lanterns, but what are they doing walking down the road?" Taldrel gathers his spear and shield, taking care not to put himself between their campfire and the lights, then takes position just out of the fire's glow.
|
|
#
?
Sep 21, 2009 01:47
|
|
|
In case it wasn't clear, the lights are still some considerable distance away – it's hard to tell how fast they are travelling, but you'd estimate that you've got fifteen to twenty minutes at least before they'll draw near to the grove at their current pace.
|
|
#
?
Sep 21, 2009 01:58
|
|
|
Annetta Faintly unamused by being woken in her slumber, the sorceress sighs softly before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Unsure what exactly it was she was supposed to be aware of and look for, Annetta looked around for a moment with her normal sight before expanding her senses sharply into the arcane wellspring she had inadvertently tapped into. +14 to Arcane for Sorcerous Vision time.
|
|
#
?
Sep 22, 2009 04:54
|
|
|
Alagand Alagand settles into his hiding place to wait for... whatever they are... to arrive. Sorcerous Vision may be my favorite feat ever.
|
|
#
?
Sep 22, 2009 07:28
|
|
|
Badger The druid awakes easily. She turns to face the road and waits with the others.
|
|
#
?
Sep 22, 2009 14:00
|
|
|
What conclusions Annetta manages to draw turn out to be hardly more insightful than Taldrel's – all she knows is that the lights are at least not profoundly mundane in nature, though they could still be mere sunrods for all the sorceress can tell; beyond this, the arcane feelers of her senses are extended fruitlessly, the rain-drenched darkness lying heavily on the land proving an obstacle to more than just ordinary eyesight. As the minutes slowly pass and the mysterious lights draw closer, it at last becomes apparent they they are quite numerous: there are around a dozen or so at a guess, four of which appear brighter and more prominent than the rest. Moreover, with the distance between them and the party continuing to decrease, Alagand and Badger are able to perceive them more clearly at last, and to the two elves it looks like the lights are travelling in an unusually steady, smooth fashion – were they borne by riders or walkers, it seems to them, they would sway a little or otherwise be impeded somewhat by the gaits of their bearers, and yet from what they can tell these are not so affected, almost appearing to float rather than being carried or held aloft.
|
|
#
?
Sep 23, 2009 02:57
|
|
|
gonna wait 'em out
|
|
#
?
Sep 24, 2009 04:37
|
|
|
Landra The lights drawing closer, and the sights and sounds of her companions stirring, draw Landra from her trance with a mildly annoyed expression, but soon enough she's armed and on her feet, standing with them to await the revelation of this mystery. "Some sort of willowisp, perhaps? Another fey creature to plague our nights, like the bears and quicklings?", she says quietly, venturing a guess, but the question is punctuated by a rolling sort of shrug, as much to loosen her muscles as to express her lack of certain knowledge.
|
|
#
?
Sep 24, 2009 04:56
|
|
|
Annetta Exhausting her talent trying to see through the piss poor weather and darkness, Annetta slumps down into the grass. "You know what would be a nice surprise for once? Something not intent on trying to eat, slice, burn or otherwise screw around with my metabolic vitality. That would be lovely really."
|
|
#
?
Sep 24, 2009 05:17
|
|
|
Badger "I never heard of so many whisps acting together or in so orderly a fashion. But those lights do seem to be hovering." The druid is content to wait on this strange new development.
|
|
#
?
Sep 24, 2009 13:56
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt As the lights draw closer, Taldrel turns back toward the group and hushes them. There was no telling how well whatever those were could hear, and no sense drawing more attention to themselves than there fire already did. Given recent events, it would probably be best to wait them out.
|
|
#
?
Sep 24, 2009 15:38
|
|
|
Still the lights draw nearer, close enough eventually that you can tell they are now level with you. There's indeed no question about it now that these are literally only lights, with no one such as a rider attached to them; perfectly spherical, though surrounded by resplendent coronas, they look to be floating some four or five feet off the ground, and are now making straight for your little grove as quickly as a swift horse trots. You get the impression that they are becoming brighter the closer they are coming, although they're not shedding any actual light on their environs; and though they are by no means bright enough to hurt your eyes, despite the sharp contrast between their brilliance and the surrounding darkness, you experience a curious, persistent desire to lower your gaze when looking at them, feeling awed, somehow, by their flawless radiance. Watching the lights approach, however, Alagand senses something else as well, vague but all the more disquieting for it, a strange feeling of unwholesome familiarity.
|
|
#
?
Sep 25, 2009 23:06
|
|
|
Badger The strange feeling imparted by these floating lights causes Badger to rack her mind for any sort of undead threat that fit this description. +16 religion to see if Badger recognizes these.
|
|
#
?
Sep 25, 2009 23:33
|
|
|
Annetta Watching the lights approach, Annetta feels the strange sensation trying to fill her with awe. This is pretty much guaranteed to prickle at the young sorceresses patience. "Well, they know we are here." Shrugging a bit, Annetta stands up, pushing herself off the ground as she grips her dagger. Strange things in unsettled times did not do her sense of paranoia any good. Nor her willingness to sit around and just... wait for fate to come play catch up. No, she was going to meet things head on. Striding forward, her hair a mess, eyes bleary with sleep and a still lingering pain in her gut from the previous days, ah, ministrations, Annetta is still yet able to find some reserve of almost regal bearing as she strode out to the edge of the camp, waiting and watching the lights for their approach.
|
|
#
?
Sep 29, 2009 09:17
|
|
|
Alagand Alagand swallows a fierce desire to swear loudly. He doesn't know what these beings are, but the foreboding with which they fill him makes him fear the worst. If only he had warned his companions! You stupid bastard! he excoriates himself, you've had so many chances to tell them, but there's always some excuse, isn't there? He draws a deep breath and lets it out silently, closing his eyes for as long as he dares. Avandra, he prays fervently, if I've ever given you cause to look on me with favor, let this be something else. Give me another chance. Just give me a chance to let them know what they're up against. The elf grits his teeth and settles in to wait. Even if Avandra could hear him, he doubted there was anything she could do if his fears were correct. He waits. ooc: sorry for the posting silence over here - I've been unable to post for the past couple of days, and I forgot to mention it on the MIA thread
|
|
#
?
Sep 29, 2009 23:00
|
|
|
gonna wait 'em out
|
|
#
?
Oct 2, 2009 01:18
|
|
|
Familiar with most things undead though she is, Badger finds these...things to be outside her experience. There are spectres and other apparitions that come close in appearance, it is true, but as with virtually all entities from beyond the grave, they are capable chiefly of inspiring dread and fear, not awe as such; and when they do take shapes such as these it is a pale, cold luminance they send forth, a corpse-light – yet this is something different, something much purer, somehow, although strangely this does not make it any more wholesome. Before long the lights have reached the grove and begin to spread out to half encircle the waiting adventurers, forming a crescent of sorts. There is a blinding flash of radiance that forces everyone to avert their eyes for an instant; and when you can see again it is no longer floating spheres of lights you look upon, but angels, servants of the deities since times immemorial, appearing as winged beings, humanoid but imbued with a divine majesty no mundane living creature could hope to project; instead of possessing legs, their lower bodies trail off into fumy vapours of energy, some like tongues of fire, others like gusts of frozen smoke or flashing streams of lightning according to the nature of the angel in question. There are many of them, a dozen all told. Of these, seven clearly belong to a lesser order, being merely of human stature, but even they look imposing, each brandishing a fiery greatsword whose bright flames match these in its wielder's eyes. Another angel, though of similar size to these and likewise wielding a two-handed sword, commands more respect for some reason; perhaps it is the splendour of her golden plate armour or the piercing watchfulness of her gaze, which one can hope to meet for a few moments at best before averting one's eyes in sudden humility – at any rate, it is clear that here is one who is more powerful than those whose stature she shares. The four angels that remain, on the other hand, are more imposing still, at least to some degree on account of their size. They are, simply put, tall, towering easily over the party; one might call them large, in the sense that a hill giant or an ogre is large, were it not for the wholly inappropriate associations of bulkiness and sluggish weight that the term conjures up, for they seem anything but, appearing rather to possess a solemn, even regal grace and lightness. Two of them hover behind the line formed by the lesser angels, their robes and skin the pale blue of crystalline ice, their streaming hair a brilliant silver; ornate scepters the size of mauls are in their hands. The third, wearing scale armour that fairly glows with a promise of furious flame and wielding a great burning spear the length of three men, floats impassively beside what is clearly the leader of this angelic company. He too is clad in scale armour, the colour of its countless components a gleaming white; a heavy shield of similar appearance is on his left arm, and a great curved blade not unlike a falchion is in his right hand. There is a powerful radiance, majestic but merciless, in his blazing eyes, which now sweep over you but fleetingly, but it is enough to make you briefly feel...less: less sure of your worth, less sure of your importance in the grand scheme of creation, less inclined to offer any resistance to whatever he might ask of you; and while the sensation passes soon enough, the feeling of being unworthy to stand in the presence of these angelic entities remains. "MORTALS," the angel booms commandingly, "ONE NAMED ALAGAND IS AMONG YOU. DELIVER HIM TO US, AND NO HARM SHALL COME TO YOU." Curiously, you cannot be entirely sure whether you are physically hearing his words or whether you are perceiving them in your mind, not dissimilar to telepathy, perhaps; and those among you knowledgeable in such matters know that this is to be attributed to the language he is using, Supernal, the tongue of the deities themselves, which indeed transcends the limits of mundane communication. The angel, for his part, having made his demand – issued his command, one might be inclined to say –, falls silent, and it is indeed silence that reigns now; for even though a dozen angels stand before you, many of them appearing to be embodiments of celestial flame no less, nary a sound is heard from them, neither the soft tinkle of falling rain on metallic armour nor the rustle of great astral wings; nothing. There is unfortunately no way of using or replicating small capitals here, or the dialogue would be slightly easier on the eyes.
|
|
#
?
Oct 4, 2009 06:15
|
|
|
Annetta It is, perhaps, because she is irritable from a lack of sleep. Or perhaps it's the constant heaping of abuse and demands of her time. Or maybe she is just fed up with the supernatural entering her life in increasingly bizarre fashions, each time working on banging away on her remaining nerves. As such, she walks right up to the lead Angel... thing, eyeing it for a long moment. Bristling, the sorceress has a white knuckled grip on her dagger as she stands just out of reach of the entity. "Can't it gods damned well wait until the morning?" Oh, and while she's up close and personal, +14 to Arcane, just on the off chance someone is screwing with them with some illusion stuff.
|
|
#
?
Oct 4, 2009 10:18
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Taldrel doesn't move from the battle-ready pose he had taken when the lights encircled them. He wanted to be ready, but he very much did not want to fight these creatures - it sounded very much like suicide. Still, he didn't like the idea of just giving up one of his companions every time someone came to them in a show of force. If he did that he'd soon be alone. Yelling from behind his shield, "And who are you to demand him of us?" Taldrel ignores Annetta's frustrated outburst. Whispering back to Alagand, "You know these guys? What's going on here?" Who was this man to have such powerful enemies?
|
|
#
?
Oct 4, 2009 15:22
|
|
|
Alagand His worst fears confirmed, Alagand responds instinctively, silently bringing the power of his Oath of Enmity to bear on the spokesangel. Quickly, he considers the situation. He doesn't want to draw his friends into a hopeless battle, but he is unwilling to surrender himself; if he's going to die anyway, he will gods-be-damned not go without a fight. He briefly considers offering single combat, but he very much doubts that the rest of the angels will just leave if he wins. Once again he curses himself for not having explained the situation to his friends, but its too late now - if he tries to explain it now, he'll lose the element of surprise, which is his only chance of making a decent showing. On the other hand, if he simply attacks, he will be leaving his friends no honorable way to abstain from the combat. His mind awhirl, Alagand eases through the undergrowth and into striking distance, confident of his concealment even against the angels. oath of enmity the lead angel. slowly move into attack range, hopefully remaining hidden.
|
|
#
?
Oct 5, 2009 01:02
|
|
|
Landra Blindsided by Alagand's unexpected new - enemies? Superiors? - her eyes flick right to...where he used to be plainly visible. What happened to you while you were dead, man? Or wherever you went when the slaadi attacked? She shakes her head - if he was slipping away and seeking the shadows that were his sobriquet, now was not the time for answers. But this was a dance they'd done together before - the flashy swordswoman to draw attention and buy time while the more subtle knife would deal with the threat - and she knew her part, even if she didn't know why she would be playing it this time, didn't know if it would even work. Armed for battle, with hand on blade, she stepped forward to join Taldrel in the spokesangel's attention, staggered slightly by the sheer presence, but still confident enough to make at least a show of challenge. You are not the only strength here. You are not! Not! My flesh is glamour, my blood is power! The arrogant protest of her subconscious mind almost seemed childish, petulant, before the glory they faced, but if they would help her keep her feet, then they were worth it. "He is a free man, not cargo to be delivered in the dead of night. Explain why he is needed, and why you are here for him, and he might well accomodate you? He is a good man as well as a free man, after all." Dallan Invictus fucked around with this message at 21:14 on Oct 7, 2009 |
|
#
?
Oct 7, 2009 08:13
|
|
|
Badger The druid remains motionless, waiting for the others to act. She would play by their rules.
|
|
#
?
Oct 7, 2009 08:59
|
|
|
Annetta Watching the entities, Annetta can feel a crackling surge of power drawn up through her, and it is only through a great deal of restraint that the sorceress does not in fact let loose, though it's evident that her normal calm has frayed. "He is one of us. He's a friend. And I am really, really not one to take "Or no harm" type demands. Say your piece, or be gone from here."
|
|
#
?
Oct 8, 2009 05:06
|
|
|
Those who choose to approach the angel find that it takes a conscious effort of will to do so; each step feels as though their feet are sinking into a thick, hindering mist, all the while the guardian angel's golden gaze rests heavily on them with great vigilance. Unperturbed by their defiance, the lead angel impassively regards the adventurers. "WE ARE SERVANTS OF TIAMAT THE COVETOUS, THE VENGEFUL ONE, THE DRAGON QUEEN," comes his thunderous response. "ALAGAND WAS PART OF HER FOLD ONCE; BUT AFTER ALL SHE DID FOR HIM, AFTER BESTOWING HER POWERS ON HIM, HE TURNED ON HER AND HER CHILDREN AND FLED TO CONSPIRE AGAINST HER CHURCH. IT IS A SLIGHT THAT WILL NOT BE BORNE." Almost rebukingly, he continues: "YOUR 'FRIEND' IS NOTHING BUT A RENEGADE AND A FAITHLESS TRAITOR, AND UNLESS YOU CAN PLEAD IGNORANCE TO ANY OF THIS, IT SPEAKS ILL FOR YOU THAT YOU WOULD ASSOCIATE WITH SUCH A ONE." The angel lifts his head, taking in the trees of the shadowy grove. "LONG HAVE WE HUNTED HIM, BUT AT LAST THE HOUR OF RETRIBUTION IS AT HAND. HE IS NEARBY; I CAN FEEL IT. FAN OUT, FIND HIM," he instructs the lesser angels under his command, who at once begin to move towards the trees, greatswords ready to strike, and turns his gaze on the adventurers again. "AID US, OR AT LEAST DO NOT HINDER US, AND YOU WILL BE ALLOWED TO GO FREE. DO OTHERWISE, AND YOU WILL INCUR THE WRATH OF THE DRAGON QUEEN FOR EVERMORE."
|
|
#
?
Oct 10, 2009 21:40
|
|
|
Taldrel Darlhunt Gods... Taldrel thought, this was the reason he never took to worshiping any god in particular; they were a capricious lot. And powerful too. Not a good combination. However, as powerful as they and their agents may be, Taldrel would not stand by idlely as they carted off his allies to who knows where. "HOLD, servants!" Taldrel bellowed resolutely from behind his shield, "The man we know as Alagand has more than once proven his devotion and utility to our noble cause. I know nothing of his past but he is presently working for the betterment of the world we both share. Taking him from us will only harm you." Taldrel did not move from his battle-ready pose. He was tempting the anger of the divine, a bold and possibly stupid move. Still, he believed in his companions and their task, and he would fight for that belief.
|
|
#
?
Oct 11, 2009 02:52
|
|
|
Annetta Pacing back and forth, Annetta looks on at the angels, fired up beyond reasonable at this point in time. Any less self-control and she'd have already lashed out at the creatures, maintaining only the thinnest veneer of restraint as she glares. "He is a friend first and foremost. Everything else you are blathering on about I could care less about, but only the smallest bit less."
|
|
#
?
Oct 11, 2009 06:07
|
|
|
Alagand Alagand smiles to himself. He'd been glad to let the angel explain the circumstances to his friends, but he'd worried that it might try to use his connection to the evil goddess to make his friends suspicious of him. Shoulda known better, he thinks, that thing looks about as subtle as... well, it don't look subtle. But his friends... there was no question about it: they were ready to fight. They were heroes; this is what they did. Alagand feels a swell of pride at being counted among them, and he takes another look at the odds. Could they beat these angels? They just might. Should he just allow the fight to happen? He still feels as if he is forcing his friends into a fight they don't need. He makes his decision. "Easy there, chief," he says in his heaviest colloquial Common, tapping the angel's elbow to get its attention, "I'm right here. I got a proposition for ya: single combat - you 'n me. You beat me, well, I'm dead. I figure that's gotta be okay in the Lady's book. I beat you, yer flunkies get outta here. "Terms're like this: we step onto the plain so's I don't get terrain advantage, an' you don't fly. You ain't sanguine 'bout these terms, you can take yer chances. Think you can take me?" He gives it his cockiest grin, simultaneously prepared to respond to its attack. Alagand will emerge from hiding adjacent to the lead angel and ready Aspect of Might against it if any of the angels make an attack. pre:Aspect of Might: Melee, +17 vs. AC (6d4+8/Miss half) - +5 athletics, +2 speed, +2 damage until end of encounter
|
|
#
?
Oct 12, 2009 01:36
|
|
|
Landra The aura of the host-or detachment, perhaps, no need to exaggerate- of angels is still tremendous, bordering on overpowering. It is, and remains, an effort not to simply agree - but it would be just as much effort to agree with such unthinkable things. The avenger's challenge comes as a surprise in the intervening time, one that has her rolling her eyes skyward. Of all the times to pretend to be a paladin...but really, would I not have done the same? "You don't have to do that, Alagand. I might let you - Gods know I love and understand a good duel - but you are not forcing us to this. They are," she says with a forceful gesture at the lead angel. "Could you have imagined me even thinking of leaving you to them? Silly man. And as for them," She turns again to face the lead angel. "The crow calls the raven black, and angels of Tiamat speak of treachery." No need to move any more forward, but the tightening of hand on blade is unmistakable. "That he would leave your fold speaks better of him, not worse. That you do not understand this is why you will fail, now and always." She shakes her head, her expression almost pitying, even though she keeps still. "Take his challenge, or fight us all, but you will not awe us into giving him to you. We are no kobolds, to bow and scrape before you or your Lady."
|
|
#
?
Oct 15, 2009 20:04
|
|
|
Could people kindly go figure out exactly how many hitpoints they're at, and how many healing surges they have left? Would save me some work while I wrestle with Excel 
|
|
#
?
Oct 16, 2009 22:56
|
|
|
79/83 HP 7/11 surges left
|
|
#
?
Oct 17, 2009 04:27
|
|
|
93/93 HP, 5/10 surges
|
|
#
?
Oct 17, 2009 05:29
|
|
|
|
| # ? Apr 26, 2024 16:20 |
|
|
62 HP, 4 surges.
|
|
#
?
Oct 18, 2009 01:13
|
|