Turn 18: Ominous Consternation
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6][
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6]
The howling of thunder resounds through the night. All throughout the land, both man and animal realize that a fierce storm is brewing off-shore. One that has not ravaged the land for an Age.
Several flashes of lightning follow soon after.
In the town of CaelondiaLead Leon and his minions to the warehouse.
Follow Adil, cast anti-scrying spell.
Adil moves away from the rock wall, after putting his ear to it to magnify the situation above him. Thinking over recent events, maybe it wasn't a good idea to attack without foreknowledge.
He turns towards Leon and holds his hands up in a gesture of apology.
"Sorry about that. I should probably find a map of the city before digging around again... Anyway, follow me."The Merchant-born nods sternly at the Dwarf, remembering his face from the night everything changed. "You should be. I consider you a friend, if not an ally, and I'd rather not kill or attack the fellow disciples of Lightbane." Adil looks back at the tunnel and
gives a mental order to his other companion, the Mass of Flesh. It responds with a low and barely audible grumble.
The whole tunnel lights up in a fluorescent glow, coming from the secretions of the Mass of Flesh which the group follows back.
Along the way, Leon remembers the last words of what he guessed to be the Guard Sergeant. He projects his mind outwards and feels two other entities doing the same, but less subtly.
He focuses his will on other objects above, mainly the marketplace which they've passed by and can feel the two follow slowly.
"They won't be able to find us now. I've diverted their attention. Have to be careful, in Caelondia. Apparently, they don't like our kind," he muttered quietly, dragging the tip of his pike curiously across a wall while following the Dwarf. Curiously, the acid streaks had no effect on the copper tip.
Soon enough, the pair along with their allies clamber up the tunnel hole with Ast being the last.
"Bah, if it weren't for that skeleton of yours, Dwarf, I'd be able to masquerade us all for the Guards. They know me!" he muttered.
"It's better to not be known than to explain on why we were there."The Mercenary stares at the Mass of Flesh before shaking his head. Stupid necromutated people.
"Alright, we're safe thanks to Leon here." Adil spoke up, noting the blood stains on the warehouse floor from the creation of his latest companion.
"
Quite a hideout, I must say. But...isn't this one of the main district storehouses?"
"
Hrm, you're right."
Shifting a few crates in between the obvious hole, the group tries to hide any source of implicating evidence that could be traced to them as they
hear footsteps outside the warehouse, less forceful than the first.
"I can hear them.""Tell me again, why did ... recall our current patrols and order the reserves out tonight?"
"Must be the coming storm, and the arrival of those ... weird things happening nowadays. Had to requisition part of the Magi Guild's people to ..."
"Nevertheless, rumors abound that Necromancy is alive once more. The elder ... lives again! Or so the reformed say."
"Well, Dalon, that's quite a lot of reasons. Suppose we'd get attacked right now, eh? That would be real tough."
"Shut it Evans. Of all the people they send to accompany me, it was you and sir Stoic here."
"Hey, I've an idea. Let's search this warehouse. Gives us plenty of time and Syra says nothing on those we're searching for. You know, free alcohol?"
"I hate you Evans, but right now, I like the way you're thinking. Pretty long night, eh?"The footsteps stop and begin moving in their opposite direction, heading towards the warehouse door. The group can hear the door creak open slowly from behind the many crates.
"Bah, knew I should've worked on that amnesiac curse!" Adil curses.
~~
Try to track any sign of thieves near the cemetary. Enidri is still convinced someone stole some of his valuables, and they shall pay for their offense.
Enidri turned away from the Smithy, silently promising to return later on and check on his friend. His surroundings were still blanketed in the night, along with the occasional shift of lighting due to the torches and lanterns that dotted the cobblestone street.
He shrugged and inclined his head towards his Wisp.
"Well, time to move."The pair trudge along and pass into the Cemetary, slowly opening the iron-wrought gate so as to not disturb the adjacent buildings with it's noise. It seems that a thick fog has encompassed the inner region of the graveyard.
"Damn thief. Whoever he is, he shall pay for stealing from the Verace family!"Enidri is reminded of what his fellowmen did when
tracking down thieves as he calms down: Leave a valuable object in a non-disclosed location, and trap it with a subtle yet personally crafted trap. The usual bear-traps, caltrop traps, tripwire traps, dart traps, explosive traps, serrated disc traps, stonefall traps, spiked pits, incendiary items, cursed traps and flame traps would obviously be known to the common rabble, but they wouldn't recognize a unique trap. No.
Sadly, no valuable item caught his eye so the Smith begins his search by checking the first area. His brother's tombstone.
"
Hey! You there!"
The Smith turns around to see about
three people dressed in the
grey livery of the Caelondian Guard. The speaker was a man about his height.
"What are you doing desecrating that man's grave! You can be hanged for that, you know!"
He spoke with a
tinge of apprehension in his voice, upon coming closer and examining who he was talking to. An armed man, complete with two sets of armor to his one, and holding a majestic halberd.
"I-if you're not here for disturbing the dead, then I suggest you head back out of here."
A
shriek echoes throughout the Cemetary, coming from deeper in. From the cold night air, it increases the strange feeling that something was wrong.
"That...wasn't you or your Wisp, was it?"
"
No."
"A disturbance."Enidri turns to look at the source of the voice. His Wisp! It can speak!
But before the young Smith could question any further, a single tendril shrouded in darkness comes streaking towards the boy. His trained eye catches the sight before it has a chance to hit him and he easily sidesteps the thing, seeing it extend and branch out into a spiked ball before retracting past him, slightly grazing his helmet.
"Watch it!"A second tendril grazes past his shoulder guard and has the same effect, completely missing him in all it's entirety. Enidri draws his halberd and grasps it's shaft tightly, spinning around and whirling it in a full circle, deflecting another incoming tendril back upon whence it came. An ominous silence follows, only broken by one of the Guards.
"Damnit. We're under attack!"
"How astute of you. I'm under attack!""
Stop it you two!" one of the Guards call out, retracting the visor and showing her face. "
Whatever is there, we must take it on." She turns to the young Smith. "
I can see this man has no connection with this."
"
I am Syra Tinoel, Scryer of the Caelondian Guard and Adept of the Grey League! Show yourself, fiend!"
"Right, and what do-
aaaarrrrggghhh."
The last guard is thrown back towards the street before he could complete his words, prone and moaning in pain due to a body suddenly being flung towards him. The corpse was cloaked and gave off the impression of a graverobber.
"
Well, there's the thief..."
A figure comes into view from the mist-shrouded Cemetery. A being wrapped and wreathed by vestments the color of the night sky with about four tendrils of smoke, or was it darkness, protruding from it's chest cavity. It's arms and legs were in the same state - indiscernible, while it's head seemed to be masked by a material of strange origin.
"
"A Spectre, how quaint. You don't see these beings, usually."
It
emits another shriek before any of the three fighters could act, fortunately their will holds firm and none of them react negatively especially Enidri, whose Wisp guards him with a flicker of it's flame. Though, the presence of a being like this is
unnerving.
Health:
25/25 10/10Inventory:
Silver Crystal,
Consecrated Steel Broadsword,
Steel Heater shield | Grey Cloth tunic | Medium Helmet
Health: 50/50 (
Stalwart)
Inventory:
Iron Dagger,
Steel Kite shield | Grey Cloth tunic | Rimmed Helmet
Health: ?/?
Inventory:
Archaic Vestments (?) , Contorted Visage (?)
Nat's Cove ; The Depths of the MawIma didn't think Montago was the same kind of a slaver as those she fought. If he was in a legal business, then why gathering at a secluded location like this one? Perhaps Montago was a revolutionary, seeking to destroy the current order and set up his own? Then his meddling would be much appreciated and assisted... until the Roaring Wheels' ruler was overthrown, that is, at which point Ima would kill Montago and take his throne in the best traditions of mage advisors all around the world.
Ima wouldn't go into Montago's lair withous support, of course. It would be a sign of weakness... and, if anything, Roaring Wheels and its inhabitants despised weakness above all.
Order the Bat to fetch the Swarm and the Barracuda and bring them here.
Once my summons have all assembled, go meet Montago and see what it's all about. The summons follow me at a fair distance, but short enough that they can reach me in seconds after I call.
The sound of rushing water could be heard under her. The Elf knew that time was against her, having taken another path, but she was glad that her action had no adverse effects.
Ima whistles in a low pitch, it's sound only heard by the bat, whose silhouette suddenly dives from the cavernous ceiling and downwards below the precipice. She can hear the sonorous call of the fish echo beneath her and move forward, below the crag behind her.
"This place is a labyrinth." she says as she turns around, squeezing herself through the narrow opening,
careful not to cut herself against the sharp edges of the stone.
The call of her swarm echoes under her in a warped tone, as if traversing through a crystalline structure. Ima follows their call, and
barely makes it out of the narrow crag unscathed. Right before that, she catches a glimpse of what was the source of the unnatural light. Through a small crack, she could spot a larger chamber made fully out of luminescent crystals and what looked like plant life.
Nevertheless, Ima turns her attention and thoughts to what lies before her: a vast expanse of a section of the cavern that extended beyond her field of vision, it's sides covered by fungi and lit up by bio-luminescent mushroom stalks and moss, Ima couldn't make out the far end of the cavern. There was a rough ramp descending to the floor beneath, meters below and dotted with boulders and those glowing mushrooms. The swift flutter of wings overhead tells her that the bat has done it's deed. It perches itself on the cavern outcropping above her, between numerous stalactites. Looking downwards, part of the floor consists of crystalline formations, probably where the fish are under as she could hear the familiar roar of water by pressing her ear to a palm against the rock. The whole place was filled with plant life, strangely unlike the passages earlier.
Moving down the ramp, she
sees a small copse of fungi-trees about fifty meters ahead of her, and figures moving about in between the radiant bells. They seem to be clad in cloth of differing color, reflecting the light of the trees.
She then edges her way past the plant life in order to get a closer look.
A hand and arm quickly wraps around her neck and mouth.
But Ima is prepared this time and delivers a backwards kick to whoever dared attack her.
"Argh, it's me! Can't a man deliver in style for once?"
"I didn't like how you did it the first time, Montago." Ima replies, turning around with a grin to face the man. She could see him along with Rano and the other three, complete with the supplies earlier. It seems they've made quite the trip.
"You're an agile one there. Took me more than an hour to cross
that path. Anyway, come. Let us meet our leader."
The six continue past another patch of plantlife, admiring it's beauty and shining brilliance. Montago steps forward and spreads his arms out in a
greeting.
"After aeons under the hands of power
Among tides of light and to shoals of dust
I will avenge those fallen in the night"
At the sound, several men and women come out of their hiding places, all armed with differing kinds of ranged weaponry, some are unrecognizable to Ima's eye, with strings of hardened fire and shafts of iron and metal.
A man moves to the fore of the group, holding a staff part wood and part luminescent, with the tip forming a symbol of entwined vines and an Emerald. To the untrained eye, he appears as a man far in his dotage, but Ima can sense deep wells of energy emanating from around his body, his aura, if it was to be called so, glowed a radiant blue.
"Montago, you are one of the last to arrive. The attack shall start before dawn. Who is this other one?""An Elven slave, sire. A valuable ally to us that I've found...on my way here."
"I will not ask, then. I have gazed upon the land, and there are worse things brewing other than the tyranny in Gin. A storm of proportions not known since the past Age is moving quickly inland, and I can sense...unnatural creatures lurking nearby.
"You, Elf! Who are you to command beings not of this world? To bring back those who have passed from the mortal coil? Speak! Or you shall be the first to fall tonight by my word." The Elder levels his staff at Ima with a grim countenance. The people flanking them edge back a little, but confusion is amongst most of their faces and their weapons are not held to kill.
Montago turns to look at his friend with a concerned eye. Even if he wanted to side with her, they were outnumbered about more than twice their current force.
"
Speak truly now. A Diviner doesn't want to be lied to." Rano muttered.
Meanwhile, in BlackmarshBlast the nearest foe with an orb of darkness.
Zakroff returns his gaze upon the nearest cloaked man. Drawing upon memories of the numerous county fairs, and knowing he had forgotten his daggers back at home, he goads to them while holding both hands in front of him, with both palms facing and parallel to each other.
For moments, nothing happens. The sound of the duel behind the four is the only sound that is heard until faint snatches of darkness form around the void between the Rogue's hands, congealing into a single point as large as his head, emitting a high-pitched screeching hum.
"What have you done!"The orb increases in size, swelling up to Zakroff's chest, and all at once collapses upon itself, forming a miniscule tear in the air. A second later, the very void between Zakroff's hands explodes in a tumult of energy and force, hurling the Rogue back into a
granite wall, luckily, consciousness decides to stay with the man as he pushes himself up, regardless of a broken bone and a sore back. In the chaos that follows, he could see one of the cloaked men warping in figure, before being stretched and pulled into the minute vortex. The other two grasp onto any object in their vicinity to avoid the same fate -being mostly stray barrels and a lantern post. Pallas and it's adversary also are
affected by the act. The Knight levels it's blade and plunges it into the road, holding firm by the pommel as it drives an auxiliary strike to it's enemy using it's gaunleted fist.
Unfortunately, the being is able to circumvent the strike and cut a deep gash along the wrist, ignoring the bracer. However, it's grip is loosened and turned into ash as
the Knight's wrist flares up in retaliation, the being screams in agony and hate as it is pulled to it's fate, just like it's other ally.
Strangely, Zakroff does not feel any force pulling at him, or affecting him at all. The vortex soon disappates, leaving no mark that it was present other than two missing cloaked men.
However, the effects of the event have considerably strengthened the remaining two, while weakening Pallas. The Knight straightens itself using it's sword, pulling it out and spitting to the side. If it's side was not enclosed by the helmet, that is.
"Shades. The bane of any traveler."Health: ?/? ; ?/?
Inventory: ?
~~
Ask the risen corpse what it's name in life was (if it can even talk) and rename the dog fluffy
Tyver kneels and looks up to the sky, holding up both arms in utter joy. "Aha! Success is mine!" he shouts, oblivious to the figure before him and the dog at his side.
He then stands up with a wide grin on his face. "Dog, you shall be known as Fluffy from now on."
The dog replies with the best impression of a shrug it could make. "That's Original."
Tyver then looks at the risen corpse. "What is your name?"
"
..."
The Rogue's smile slowly slips off his face and is replaced by a sneer. The energies around the being felt malevolent, if the dog's word about Necromancy was to be trusted. It wasn't good.
Suddenly, another shriek pervades the area, which the corpse-man runs to follow, leaving Tyver and Fluffy behind.
"What was that one's problem?"
~~
Summon some bones to trap the Specter. Infuse the bones with dark energy to make sure it doesn't escape.
Another tendril comes by and shatters yet another gravestone. Upon closer examination, Cog can sense that it is truly a Spectre, a malevolent being. The only description given to him by his mentor.
Cog stands from behind an Angelic statue and smiles. "You are mine, Specter."
He quickly gestures towards the loam soil, drawing his hand up in slow motion, along with a word of command. The ground shakes in response, and fine white powder comes out of the many
graves nearby, forming the distinct structural shape of bones around the Spectre. It shrieks in agony as the trap compresses against it, but the pitch is one of joy as it's tendrils wrap around each bar and tighten, breaking it's prison easily
.Cog's smile turns to one of annoyance. The entity broke his spell before he could muster up the strength to fortify it! He issues a command towards the Ghouls to attack, buying him some time to gather his powers and think of a counterplan.
The first Ghoul approaches from his right and clambers up a nearby mausoleum wall, attempting to leap at the being using the momentum from it's jump. The other Ghoul approaches from his left and moves on all fours at the Spectre.
The Spectre turns it's attention to it's right and sends off two tendrils to divert the Ghoul, striking it's right shoulder bone and shattering the arm while disabling it's current attack plan before retracting them. In this time, the first Ghoul manages to perfectly aim it's strike, but lands on one of the tendrils other than the Spectre itself who easily repulses it, flinging the poor being into the walls of the cenotaph with a cracking of bone.
However, this distraction proves
fortunate for the young necromancer, for another being cloaked in similar attire of the Spectre lunges from behind a tombstone and tackles the Spectre from behind,
clasping a hand over it's shriek-hole, stifling it's noise.
The tendrils stop moving and raise themselves, shooting towards their attacker and entangling him.
The man seems resolute on keeping his hands clamped around the Spectre, and the tendrils have little effect against their enemy. The sigils on the man's vestments glow a garish white and yellow, singeing the tendrils before returning to their original state.
"What! Where did he come from! I could use one of those!"
Health: ?/? (?)
Inventory:
Aged vestments (?), Obsidian Visage (?)
Health: 10/25 ; 5/25
Inventory: Naked.
Health: ?/?
Inventory: Archaic Vestments (?)
~~
Ignore barfight, attempt to find records on necromancy.
Shalla lights up one of the lanterns strewn about and proceeds to search the various aisles and shelves for any records of 'Necromancy'. Despite the hundreds upon hundreds of tomes, grimoires and texts lying about, she
easily finds what she is looking for. A History book about the magics of the world. Necromancy, it seems, is one of blackest of arts, literally and figuratively, to be known to the sentient races of the world. One art, of the several forbidden magics.
The writing style of the tome leaves much to be desired, though, in the current Age.
...Necromancy is a special mode of divination by the evocation of the dead. Ever since the beginning of time, it has been practiced; known to stretch from the realm of the aether, to the ever-life and to the dreamworld, as a Necromancer can speak with the dead -vocally or mentally. The fundamental structure lies on what is termed as Wisp, a mundane 'spirit': where the term spirit may refer to any sentient being's essence after death, or a creation that thrives in the ever-life; both pertain to the same creature and meanings are regardless. The Wisp functions as the core of all Spiritual art, with other 'undead', as is the term, being governed by their personal essence (bodies of the recent and long deceased)...however, a Necromancer can only control as much as his own life force permits, that of which is only known and can be known by elders of the lore itself.
...The practice of Necromancy has no true baseline as it's founding date. What is known is that...The Society of the Crypt functioned as the first formal practitioners of Necromancy, with their leader adopting the sobriquet of Lightbane. Ever since recorded time, the leadership of the Society has not been known to shift, leading to the idea that Lightbane has never lost power as the head. Though, in the Second Age, he was betrayed after a large revolt for the cult felt he was growing too powerful, and trapped his soul in a grimoire, taking the sacrifice of one of their best Necromancer-Captains along with about a hundred acolytes...
...as spirits or undead are not naturally part of this world, their summoners must take heed that loyalty is not to be expected from any creature, dead or risen, unless the summoner can find a way of 'welcoming' the being. Usually, most 'undead' are content with a sacrifice of sorts, as the life force of said sacrifice is converted as the bond between this plane and the next...
...radical use of the dark arts are suceptible to chaotic events unfolding in this mortal plane; from empowered natural calamities to rifts existing between realms...
...reason on why Necromancy was destined to be a hidden art, for there are known to be otherworldly entities that are bent on the domination of this mortal plane, as destiny has no repercussion here, life flourishes and actions carry their own consequences.
There was much to read over, concerning the history of Necromancy, but the barfight outside seems to have escalated.
The sound of an explosion and of bodies breaking against stone is of greater concern. The tip of her Ancient Staff glows a bright blue, then fades to it's original state after the explosion and Shalla can feel the presence of other beings converging on her general location through the staff. On the bright side, nobody is going to miss a few tomes from the Library if push comes to shove.
Health: 100/100 (
Eri's Deal | +1 to Magic Resistance for
4 battle turns.)
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
4 turns) |
Blue staff of the Ancients |
Thaumaturgical Vambrace | Cloth Clothing
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)
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 | Cloth Clothing
Companion/s:
Undead alligator
Health: 40/40 (+1 Combat modifier, mountable)
Mass of Flesh
Health: 20/25 (
Corrosive |
Mentally Sentient |
Bio-luminescent )
Health: 90/110 (+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) | Cloth Clothing
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 (Landwalker |
Shrouded in Darkness |
Smokescreen)
Undead Barracuda
Health: 30/30 (
Flight)
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Health: 65/100
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 | Cloth Clothing
Companion/s:
Horde of Rats
Health: 40/40 (Equipped with a Fear spell)
Ast
Health: 70/70 (Sentient |
Inconspicuous)
Inventory:
Steel Battleaxe |
Metal-reinforced leather armourHealth: 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) | Leather Tunic
Companion/s:
Undead Dog "Fluffy"
Health: 40/40 (+1 combat modifier | Sentient)
Inventory:
Dark Linen CloakHealth: 95/100
15/30 (Can use Body Magic with a -1 modifier |
Adept Smith)
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 Mail ;
Medium Steel Plate and Helm ;
Tempered Steel Halberd "Fulgor" | Cloth Tunic
Companion/s:
Healing Wisp "Fornax"
Health: 25/25 (Sentient | +10 Healing Aura |
Thermal Adaptation)
Health: 55/100
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: Cloth Tunic
Companion/s:
Venerable Knight "Pallas"
Health: 40/75 (Sentient|
Wreathed in flame|
Distrust)
Inventory:
LongswordHealth: 85/100
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Backstory: Born in Blackmarsh, Cog was orphaned at a young age after his parents were killed by bandits. He was taken in by an old necromancer who taught him about the dark art. He is traveling in search of other necromancers in order to learn more.
Inventory: Cloth Tunic, Traveling Cloak
Companion/s: -
Global Bonuses:Blessing of Lightbane; Crand's Folly
Notes:
> The rolls below the turn are the first rolls made while making said turn.
Sixes all the way!
> Apologies to Caellath, for in turn 16 I had wronged his character's surname: Varence > Verace. Hope you didn't mind!
> I try to portray everything from the character's view, with how they see or hear things that aren't in their current viewpoint as what they may attribute it to.
> If a certain bonus modifier is attributed to a certain object and it is rendered unusable, the bonus shall not work. Disarming may be better than straight out killing.
> Nothing else of note. Other than this. Note.
Author
Topic: Kings of Death - A Necromancy RTD: Turn 24: Blood and Honor (Read 39113 times)