Turn 14: Revelations upon
Revelations
Somewhere in the streets and open spaces of CaelondiaPump the worms full of dark energy to make them grow and mutate. Order them to start
digging a tunnel in the warehouse.
Add an evil laugh as the worms begin to bore into the floor for good measure.
"Rise, carrion of the dead! Heed my command and dig! DIG!" cried Adil, gesturing at the worms that lay beneath him.
The worms squirm under the power of the Dwarf's word.
They stop moving and sink slowly into the corpse. Few moments pass, and Adil feels part of his power leave him. Suddenly, the corpse explodes and showers the warehouse floor with blood and bile. Underneath what used to be a corpse, lay
a grotesque mass of flesh, indiscernible from the floorboards. It looks like the worms did not take otherworldly energy well.
However, failure was the least of Adil's worries for as he looked upon the amalgam he could see strange pus like secretions exuding from it's membrane, melting away the wooden floor. A few
undisturbed moments later, as it seems nobody had noticed the sound of the infusing, there is now a hole wide enough for a human to fit through. At the bottom of the hole lies the Mass of Flesh, still secreting corrosive bile.
~~~
Stab Ast in the face.
"C'mon, is that the best ye go-"
Without waiting for Ast to finish his monologue, Leon thrusts his Pike forward,
aiming at the torso for greater effect. Ast smiles, as if prepared for the strike and readies his weapon while speaking. The sound of
metal on metal echoes through the dimly lit streets, as the tip of the pike hits the haft of the Battleaxe.
"Basic rule of combat. Do not monologue."
With those words, Leon counterswings and uses the momentum of his pike to
change it's direction midway through,
slicing through the unarmored neckline and cutting the jugular!Ast drops his Battleaxe and staggers backwards, pressing a hand to the mortal wound, emitting only brief sputters and chokes and he realizes death approaching. A holds up his free hand, most likely in an attempt to grab you despite the distance but
falls to the ground in his own blood.
The last feeling Ast has, was of his own warm blood.
Health: 0/70.
Mortality has arrived.Inventory:Steel Battleaxe (+2 attack modifier) | Metal-reinforced leather armour (+2
defense and dodge modifier)
Status:
Fear~~~
Shrug, look for a neaby blacksmith, borrow his workshop and work on finishing the finer
details of my armor.
Enidri looked at the wisp, and shook his head. Another one of those mist lights or a figment of his imagination, he guessed. He bent over and picked up the sack, stuffing in his belongings and proceeded to the gate.
A few steps out and the familiar smell of burning coal wafted through the street. Enidri looked to the east, the smithy was hidden in plain sight! As he approached the structure, the same wisp flies around him, stopping over certain points of his body and then darting forward to a new position, finally stopping over his left shoulder.
A rapping on the door was heard and was soon opened by a tall, burly man, clad in nothing but a black apron, leather pants and thick hide boots.
He stands at the doorway and bends over to inspect Enidri at face level.
"Ye look like them traveling folk!" said he, clasping Enidri's shoulder with a gloved hand and following it up with a wide smile and straightening himself.
"A pleasure. Forren Talbrin at your service. As it is late at night I usually don't do my services but-...I'll give you some leeway. Come inside, traveler."The Smithy was a warm and welcoming place. The fires of the forge flickered and sparked as the two moved to a nearby table. After showing him his belongings, Forren removes his gloves and examines each piece.
"Pretty much workable. Now, which one would you like repaired?"
"Forgive me, but I'd wish to use your forge as my own, being a Smith myself, I would-"
"Oho! A traveling Smith! If it wasn't for your friend here, I'd be reluctant to believe you there, but by all means. My hammer is yours and my forge I shall share!""Thank you, kind sir. Um, who is my friend?"
"Don't tell me you ignored your Wisp there. I may be an old smith, but I know those sorts of stuffing. A Wisp is generally a Spirit: benevolent or malevolent, depending on it's purpose. Thems are usually natural types. Now, I won't be rude and question you as to how you got yours but I say, they are wondrous beings." Forren said, noting the lightball move about erratically overhead.
Now, I'll be off for the night. I expect this place to be just the way I left it, but without pay of course. I'm not one to deny a fellowman his work.. . .
Hours pass, and even in the dark of night, Enidri finishes his work. He stands and stretches his muscles from his labor. The heat of the hearth relaxing them, easing his recovery.
He turns to the anvil to admire his work: a
single set of
copper plating that could cover his whole body if utilized properly.
It looks durable enough to sustain blunt attacks from rudimentary weaponry. A bit more work could've made it better, but this would do in the meantime.
In the slaver town of GinBoth the Fish Horde and I shall look for cargo ships carrying the Roaring Wheels'
flags.
When we find one, circle it and try to assess the ship's dangerousness and value in
loot.
Gin; City
Aptly named from it's inhabitants, this sprawling metropolis serves as both a seaport and a trading zone for much of the continent's people. Wide harbors and dry docks, both allowing the passage of large trade freighters and Caravels, dot the beachfront. It's populace, though, is mostly made up of the commonfolk: traders and merchants among the rest.
However, it is also a melting pot of smugglers and slavers. As a city, it's sewage system stretches from the walls of the City gates, across the adjacent river and throughout the whole area ending at the seaside. A magnificent construct of architects and engineers. One which certain unscrupulous groups have found wise to stay in as their own 'safehouses', divided into different sectors with code known only to their factions. Caution is advised for anyone traveling at night in Gin, for even the local Militia has problems in keeping their more 'colorful' citizens in check.
Ima strode through the gate after getting clearance from the annoyed guard, woken up at this late hour. Keeping a hand on the hilt of her Cutlass, she made her way to the dock, where she was re-united with her Companions.
Gazing across the harbor,
No ship bearing the Roaring Wheels' flag or any insignia resembling such could be seen. Even if it were day, those symbols could easily be discerned, as the harbor watch usually kept their clients
heavily guarded by hired mercenaries or the ship's own crew. Though, much of the ships here do not look like part of the King's military. Trade ships, at the most.
The sea breeze refreshes Ima, reminding her much of her home.
A paper flies into her from the breeze, tattered and old, the ink looks fairly new. Judging by how it still bleeds into the paper.
Montago,
On Second Watch I follow the Pole. The northern light in the heaven. For neath the waves my secret is known, in the dank places it shall be awoken.
Bring your friends.
D.
~~~
Meanwhile, in the shady town of BlackmarshGo back to mages, report complete success at displacing thieves.
Shalla smiled as she approached the Guild door, striding up to one of the Guards at the gate and presenting him with proof that her mission was a total success. With a curt nod, the man lets you in.
Through hallways made of marble, supported by wooden beams of Oak and Pine, Shalla makes her way towards what the Guard pointed out as the Guild Hall. As she opens the doors, her arrival couldn't be
better. The door slams shut behind her, covering the whole room in darkness. There were no windows, strangely.
A few moments later, the place is lit in a blue, eerie glow. Turning back to the door, the human finds that it is covered in archaic glyphs and strange scrawl which she cannot recognize. Shalla is alone, as her companions are on the other side of the door and unable to pass.
"You have passed our simple test, I see." a voice said. It sounded low and deep, much like one used to rhythmic chanting yet not monotone in pitch.
"Shalla Halfdark. Daughter of a common man and wielder of the azure flame, I take it?
"State your purpose. How strange it is, for our Guild to accept a novice with power enough to deal with a group of thieves and brigands which even the local guard is harried to deal with."~~
Summon the spirit of a Dead Knight
Zakroff observes the spirit, it was just floating there without doing anything substantial. Musing to himself, reminded of the rumors, maybe this was a sign of greater things to come?
He approached the windowsill, absently knocking the candle down and out into the streets below. He held up his arms and stretched them out wide, staring at the Dark spirit in front of him. There was no sign of people below his area, so it wouldn't hurt to experiment, he guessed.
"Spirit! Can you understand me?"
The wisp stopped hovering and floated closer to him, exuding an aura of malevolence and heat. Suddenly, it darted through his torso, but left no mark in it's passing. Zakroff turned around to see the spirit bobbing up and down on his only chair.
"Hmmm ... quite interesting, maybe if I try this ..."
Zakroff remembered one of his marks, a rich Noble whose name he had forgotten. A Noble who, having a squad of well armored knights at his command, died of a 'heartattack' one night, leaving much at loss for his relatives and neighbors. He drew himself up and straightened his gait; rubbing his fingers with their own sweat in anticipation. If the rumors were right, then he could be able to use this spirit to his will.
In an act just like one of the Wandering Wizards, he uses his arms to gesticulate and copy most of what he knew, adding a bit of his own flair to the combination.
Moments pass, the only light in the room being from the moon. Zakroff stops and bends over to catch his breath after ten whole minutes of doing so. He looked up to see the
effect.Minutes come and go, and Zakroff watches the wisp intently. It is only by a glint of light behind him that he notices that nothing is on the chair, the wisp had vanished entirely!
Turning around to close the windows for the night, he comes face to face with a suit of armor, or that is what he could fathom, if it wasn't bathed in bright white light. The suit looked as if it was made of full plate, the armor used by knights and Nobles, covering the whole body from top to bottom. Ornately made; the trim had an archaic tone to it as it glowed gold in the moonlight. Strangely, there was no sign of heraldry or a coat of arms or
any insignia at all.
Zakroff blinked. The helmet was enclosed on
all sides, with no opening for it's owner. He leaned closer, tapping it in places that would prove it to be sentient.
Which it proves by quickly unsheathing it's longsword and bashing the poor man with the pommel of it's blade,
knocking him back onto the wall! (-10hp)
"Stand forth and proclaim thine name, fiend! Fere, or foe? Who hath awaken me from my slumber? I wist mine end had come, yet I speak and breathe once more!" the being said in highly accented gothic. It's words were not silenced by the helmet, but it seemed to be amplified by it and shook the walls of the hut. The force of the voice could be felt through Zakroff's bones.
It levels it's blade at the only being in sight, poising as if ready to strike at him, but waiting for a response. No expression could be gleaned, due to his helmet covering his face.
Health:?/? (Sentient|Wreathed in flame)
Inventory:
Gilded Longsword (?)
~~
examine the dog.
Tyver looked at the creature and bent down to inspect it.
"Hey there boy, you look mightily joyful to see a stranger like me, eh?"
The dog barked in response, "Oh yes I do!"
Tyver lets out a small yelp before grabbing his pike and leveling the blade at the thing. "You-You can t-...was that you?!"
The dog shakes off it's cloak, revealing nothing but bone and sharp fangs and. "Yes I speak. You're my new master! For Lightbane!"
The dog-thing then begins to relate it's tale of Lightbane
noisily and jovily; what it is and how the dog is now bonded to Tyver, strangely.
The stories were true then. In his small cadre, Tyver heard rumors of magic and sorcery spreading throughout the lands. Those who had the power to even call on those forces carried a double-edged sword over their head. Immense power, but their effects would be disastrous in the wrong hands.
And he just earned himself one of it's creations.
"Oy! Whats with all the racket!"
Tyver turns around and hears the footsteps of a man heading down the tavern stairs. It is
the local scullion. A worker of the tavern.
"Hey, another friend of yours?" the dog pipes up.
Undead Dog
Health: 40/40
5/5(+1 combat modifier | Sentient)
Inventory:
Dark Linen Cloak
Health: 100/100
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Backstory: Shalla was the daughter of a windmill owner, which meant she was too poor to not work but too affluent to go shovel muck all day. As a compromise, she mostly split her time between helping out with the mill, so as to be useful, and trying to improve her education and refinement, so as to be both useful and refined, which her parents hoped would allow her to squeeze into a political marriage with someone slightly more affluent than herself. She figured a brief stint in the sewers would both allow her to claim a hint of experience as an adventurer, adding a bit of mystique and excitement to her eventual marriage proposal, and give her a break from learning to appear learned, which would lessen her desire to hang herself.
Inventory: Mound of treasure (+3 buying modifier for 8 turns) | Blue staff of the Ancients
(+3 to all magic rolls)
Companion/s:
Undead Hippo
Health:40/40 (+10 Healing Aura, heals those around it)
Undead Human "Hound"
Health: 40/40 (can use misc. heavy items around area, adding to combat roll, used via
action)
Inventory: Giant Tombstone (+3 combat modifier)
Undead Skeleton
Inventory: Sacrificial knife (+1 combat modifier)
Health:40/40
3x Necromancer Apprentice'
Health: 50/50 ([Necromancer A 20/20] [Necromancer B 10/10] [Necromancer C 20/20])
Inventory: Basic Robes | Basic Staves
Health: 90/100 (+1 to all dark arts for 3 and above rolls ; -1 to any dark magic action in
the next turn)
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
Backstory: Adil was long ago a novice engraver at a small dwarven outpost close by until it was overrun by honey badgers. He was one of the ones that escaped, but had to sustain himself by scavenging the sewers, as it turns out above ground towns don't have much in the way of stone to smooth.
Inventory: Black Robe
Companion/s:
Undead alligator
Health: 40/40 (+1 Combat modifier, mountable)
Mass of Flesh
Health: 25/25 (Corrosive)
Health: 100/100 (+1 to looting and raiding | +1 to rolls involving clouds)
Gender: Female
Race: Elf
Backstory: Ima was captured by a human warlord as a child during the human raid on The Wood of Rainbows, a small and long-forgotten elven outpost in a unicorn-filled forest. She escaped in her fifty-third year of slavery with a group of other elves; they traveled through deep jungles and traitorous marshes into another human kingdom, the one where citizens were treated equally regardless of their race. Once their trek was over, they split up and began their new lives as free citizens... though by no means rich citizens, of course.
Ima was luckier than most of other escapees: she managed to become an apothecary's apprentice. Today, she was tasked with collecting high-quality pigtails - and the best pigtails there were grew on concentrated dung-water deep in the sewers, so Ima decided to go there with the first party of adventurers she saw.
Inventory: Iron Cutlass (+1 combat modifier)
Companion/s:
Demonic Bat
Health 10/10 (Life drain, regenerates and can gain more health via sucking out a creatures
life force)
Undead swarm of Fish
Health: 40/40 (can walk on land, can shroud themselves in darkness for +1 to dodge |
Smokescreen)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: 50/100
Backstory: Leon was born to a merchant, and as such travelled a lot when he was younger. When he came of age, he began his own trading career with funding from his father to get started. For the past few years, he has been working in this town/city/village.
Inventory: Brusher's Pike (+1 attack roll, roll for bleeding effect, 5=decapitation)
Companion/s:
Horde of Rats
Health: 40/40 (equiped with a fear spell)
Health: 100/100
Gender:male
Race: Dwarf
Backstory: Tyver was a rouge working alone. He did some adventuring work around town mostly killing bandits and returning lost items. (or not) He has gained a small amount of notoriety in Blackmarsh and was always interested in gaining power for himself.
Inventory: Copper Pike (+1 attack)
Companion/s:
-
Health: 100/100
10/10 (Can use Body Magic w/ -1 modifier)
Gender: Male
Race: Human.
Backstory: A very calm and young weapon and armorsmith of a small family which saw its business get thrown to the dirt due to the constant flow of dwarven-made equipment, the boy decided to cast away his old name and find him a new one after his last living relative, his older brother, withered and died in the nameless' early to mid teens. After a couple of years living of what he could get with odd jobs, he is finally ready to give the finishing touches in his self-made equipment and leave his rotten husk of a house, intent on following the plans he had been nourishing and training for since he heard various travelers tell stories about how the dwarven nobles were extremely unbearable and susceptible to a multitude of Unfortunate Accidents.
Inventory:
Copper MailCompanion/s:
Healing Wisp
Health: 10/10 (Sentient | Can absorb nearby flames to temporarily increase healing powers
and to permanently increase health)
Health: 90/100 (-1 to physical actions next turn)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Backstory: Zakroff grew up as a pick-pocket, and a thief trying to earn a living where he was forced to live underneath a makeshift hut of sticks, and rotted planks. He seeks power, and wealth, but not for personal gain, instead he wants to get back at the people who aim to gain power just for themselves.
Inventory: -
Companion/s:
Global Bonuses:Blessing of Lightbane; Crand's Folly
Notes:
> A roll of [6] may be a
major success!
> GM shall refer to herself in third person when making notes, so as to counteract the
second person writing style. No.
Sticking with Third Person now.
> English is not the current GM's native tongue.
> The GM did some checking. We had problems in Companion checks and I had to remove some in accordance to earlier events.
> There are a lot of things that empfan left in the GM's hands. A
lot of things.
> Nothing else of note. Other than this. Note.
Comments, suggestions and criticism is very much needed.Is everyone
OK with acronyms? For me, I've hidden rolls in the words under acronyms. Is it true that in all computers, a dotted line is seen? Just making sure that is the case.
Also, turn held up because I couldn't find
that one word that is needed in description. Very sorry.
Author
Topic: Kings of Death - A Necromancy RTD: Under New Management (Read 41326 times)