Turn 17: Mobility
[
6][
6]
Caelondia's Open Streets ; Public SectorOrder the mass of flesh to restrain the mercenary, but not attack further.
Clear the smoke, through means magical and mundane.
Leon squints into the dust cloud, if the other two are part of this attack then it would mean something unusual was going on, judging by their position in relation to the creature. A stroke of inspiration hits him, why hadn't he thought of this before?
With a word, a chilly night breeze flows through the streets, blowing away any dust particles, completely clearing his vision and
refreshing his, and probably Ast's spirit.
The Mercenary struggles and writhes around, trying to reach for his axe to chop this strange entity. The breeze blows by him, giving him a Second Wind. He
then bites one of the appendages, leading to the latter's withdrawal as he drops into a roll, grabbing his fallen axe and spinning about to face his attacker. Any leftover dust clouds dissipate on the broken cobblestone street.
"Attack me, would you?" the man yelled in his gruff tone, taking a step forward before inspecting the creature. He stops upon hearing other voices and regards the other two, though keeping an eye on his mark.
"Who are you? Is there a reason you're attacking me and my ally?" Leon called out.
A rough voice responds from the hole, a figure in a black robe. "It is I, Adil Borushdumat, dwarven necromancer disciple of Lightbane! Vanquisher of bandits! Who treads above!?"
"I am Leon Jyos, Ligh-"
The conversation is cut short by the sounds of clinking metal and padded boots echoing through the streets north of the five. For those who choose to look, see about
ten humans, clad in what seems to be iron armor with varying weapons and shields. The Caelondian Guard.
They don't look like they're in for tea.
"Quick, down here!" the Dwarf quietly intones. Leon nods and gestures towards a confused Ast as the two followed the three back down the hole. The Mass of Flesh covering and sealing the entryway with a mixture of plasma and clotted blood,
perfect as an appearance of fake soil that would easily be missed by prying eyes.
"Did you hear all that?"
"Yes, I did. I thought Evans was joking about the noise!"
"Well, whoever was here didn't look like the friendly bunch.
Magic seems to be used, or maybe black powder. I'm not sure, but they did cause a lot of damage."
"To the road, luckily. No matter,
Search the area. I'm sure I saw something moving around here."
"Dalon, report back to the Magister. He'd want to hear about this. While this won't confirm the rumors about wide-spread magic, it may be a lead. Syra, can you scry the nearby surroundings for the perpetrators of this crime? Thank you."
The voices sound nearly monotonous, though it may be due to the helmet styles of the Guardsmen, being mostly enclosed inverted rimmed pots in shape.
~~
"I have the slight impression we will never see each other again. As for you..." he turned to the wisp.
"I shall name you Fornax, for your fire, while weak at the moment, shall turn into a strong flame and help me show the world that the blacksmiths of the Verace Family shall never waver in their duty."
"My halberd, while lacking honors and use, is a fine weapon and the result of the joint effort of two smiths: I shall name it Fulgor, for in the hands of a skilled warrior, it is granted superiority against any weapon."
Enidri takes a few steps as he speaks to his wisp, which was circling the tip of his halberd as he moved. The Smith stops and turns back to the Smithy, a pang of regret in his realization of it's state.
He turns about and opens the Oaken door once more, with Fornax lighting the area once again with it's faint blueness.
Enidri turns to consider his follower,
"With all the talk about Spirits from ol'Forren, let's see if I could make you into a better Spirit, eh?"He hefts the shaft of his weapon and angles the tip of it's blade directly at the epicenter of the sphere of light.
"Let's hope this works." With a word taught to him by the Smith, he watches as it's effect takes place. The lightball pulsed slowly, emitting a brighter light with every beat. The Smith then looks around for anything to aid him and sees a lump of discarded
copper, useless for anything worthwhile, so he decides to toss it at the Wisp.
Enidri pulled back his halberd and watched the spectacle unfold. As good, if not better, than how the elder smith described it as they waited for the forging to cool. He held his hand up to lessen the radiant force, as the rhythm of light shifted slowly from the hazy blue to a bright, burning azure flame, about as large as his head.
The Wisp shrinks to fist-size and flies swiftly towards Enidri's halberd, continuing it's beatific orbit around the shaft.
He smiles as he sees the efforts of his work unfold perfectly and continues in his deed, flipping over a few fallen objects and checking the corners and nooks for anything that could give him any information about Forren, or the Wisp.
He looks at the Wisp after a few moments of putting everything else back in their current position before leaving. It looks like nothing important was found.
Still, he feels no fatigue even after all the labor done. The Moon was still high in the cloudless sky, and the streets were devoid of life, other than he and his friend and those shouting in the distance, farther in the city.
Nat's Cove ; The Maw"Montago, you said? Here's the note in question; it was addressed to you, and so you shall have it. I deduced that it would be by boat from the 'neath the waves' and 'dank places' mentioned there."
Ima passed over the note and raised her hand before anyone else would urge her to leave, showing she wasn't done yet.
"Now that I know you are associated with the slaves, I can explain myself freely. The answer to your last question is related to my debt. You see, I owe this kingdom for my home being burnt down and my people worked to death in the slave pits. Indeed, I am a slave - I escaped thirty years ago. For a long, long time, I was yearning for power enough to purge this land as the one who set me free did... but now that I have magic on my very fingertips, I see the kingdom itself has changed in the past decades. A lot. It would be exceptionally foolish to expect today's slaves to be as prepared for a good old 'deadly fog engulfs the city' attack as I was thirty years ago, right?
"But at least your culture remains the same. You still have the riddles about 'what sits atop the tallest Pole', don't you? The Pole in the note was how I suspected about your conspiracy's connection to the slaves. And I needed something from people such as yourselves... namely, information.
"I want to find out more about the slavers of today and their usual defenses, so I can prepare accordingly and launch precise attacks as soon as I visit the kingdom again. I'd offer my assistance in your cause, but I'm not sure how much time I have before my mission calls and whether I'll be able to put it on hold, so I can't guarantee anything of the sort. Just the basics, knowing what I should prepare for, will do."
Try to convince Montago and his people to let me learn the basics on fighting the Roaring Wheels.
Montago listens to the Elf as she narrates her tale in full detail, raising an eyebrow at the mention of 'magic' and a full expression change to one of piqued interest after the word 'assistance'.
"
You are easy to lay trust down, my friend. It is one of the prime commodities that we personally value greater than gold and silver," he let out a short laugh, "if I was another of my fellow slavers, I'd be foolish enough to let this opportunity pass me by. A mage, for all reasons!"
"W-wait. You're a-...slaver?""Yes, milady. But not the ones you know of," he said, noting Ima's expression with a wide smile. "But come! Let us rejoice, now that we have gained a valuable ally! Kale, go fetch the kegs at the boats, make sure the wadding and line are dry. Fiel, help him with it, bring the canvass. Orin, you get the rum. We'd not like our guest and host to go wanting, eh?"
Montago nodded to his 'blade' and gestured to the other men, who both left their positions behind the rocks and scurried towards the rowboats in the distance.
They seemed pretty well armed for the...retinue of this 'slaver'.
Montago read the paper that Ima handed over and quickly pocketed it, looking onwards to the cave. "All explanations will be in full, later on. We have a...way of contacting you, if whatever mission you have calls you back. Time is against us, and I am lath to see the Sun's glorious rays shine before our meet is done. To the Maw, men. And lady."
The group moves onwards, led by the slaver with Ima taking the rear and behind Rano -his right hand man, as he calls him. They wade through knee-deep water, weary for any octopodes hiding beneath the waves and seaweed. After a while, they come upon the cave mouth: what could easily be described as a gaping hole in the ground, bordered by sand and stone. There were stratified 'teeth' protruding from certain sections acting as footholds or handholds.
"This is Nat's Maw. It was said a Pirate Galleon was scuttled right above this place an Age ago, with treasure hidden deep within it's depths. At high tide, it becomes the death of many ships who get sucked into her as the waters divide."
Montago leads the way after requesting the torch, beckoning to Ima to go alongside him. "Watch your step, it becomes slippery after...a while. And wet."
The trek in the darkness of the cave couldn't have been better. Ima wondered how the Maw could easily suck ships in, as where would the outlet of water be? She easily found out later on - by nearly slipping off the ledge of a crevice and seeing a deep well that led back inland, along with the flow of rushing water passing and slowly eroding the rocky edges, seen in clearer detail when fear runs through the veins.
A few more minutes and Montago motions for everyone to stop. "Here comes the tricky part." The slaver pointed with his torch at the next expanse, a mass of pillars situated above a high drop, stepping stones that lead to the next area. "Now I-"
He is cut off as Ima suddenly goes into a sprint and leaps off the ledge, easily landing on the nearest top. "Hey! W-" She then exhales sharply before diving at a lower pedestal, adjacent to the one in front of her and using the momentum to propel herself forward in a backflip, grabbing onto a hanging rockline and swinging herself back down to a set of five pillars, where the traction takes her off into a run and finishing in a roll, safely onto the other side.
Ima spun about to see the weak torchlight flickering in the distance, including the bewildered faces of Montago and his men who gathered by him, with three of them gawking at the impressive feat.
After few tense seconds of cooling down and self-admiration, Montago finally speaks up. "Erm, I was going to point out the
safer route over to your right, now left. That crosswalk over there," he says, shaking his head in disbelief and awe. It was but a narrow ledge, easily missed from all but a trained eye. Below it was a sudden drop into the darkness while the only supports were smooth and untrustworthy. Still, the rest follow in tandem, holding onto the ledge as the passage was made out of smooth limestone.
"Just follow the narrow pass on your left, wait no, right! It leads to our location! You'll get more than information there! Much more! I swear that!"
The voice echoed through the cave as the torchlight grew ever more faint. It was well that Ima's eyes had adjusted to the darkness as there was a weak source of light emanating from through the crag behind her.
Listening around her, she could hear the same sonorous call of her fish lurking in the waters underneath her, and no doubt that her bat was somewhere above, flitting about in finding it's way.
BlackmarshInvestigate the men, they could be doing evil, and may have information I need.
Zakroff moves to the side corner and turns to inspect the men he saw earlier.
He can easily make them out, even see their...clothing! Strangely, they don't look like they're minding him, with heads downcast and arms and legs spread out in a relaxed manner. He can
feel something, intuition telling him to get out as fast as he can from the area.
And it is
right.At once, the three figures rush forward to attack, with long torn black cloaks trailing behind them. They reach out with clawed hands at the
Rogue's body. Zakroff's eyes widen in fear, these were not ordinary men, or maybe not even men at all as they
glided towards him. Luckily, he trusted his Intuition and was able to parry the first with impeccable accuracy, sending it crashing backwards, gracefully sidestepping the next and evading the third with a somersault backwards. A quick glance revealed all three-
Wait, weren't there four of them?
Zakroff hears the unsheathing of a blade and turns to see his pseudo-liege in a duel with the other one, who he guessed snuck behind him. If it were not for the Knight, then he would be in quite the predicament.
The Knight evades easily and returns with a counterstrike to the forequarter of it's body, sidestepped by the man.
The momentum of the thrust turns the Knight's swing into a side attack with the pommel, which is again evaded. The man cackles in unearthly glee as it lands a square blow to the
cuirass, it's claws sinking into the spirit's form. The Knight lets loose a cry of rage, and it's body flares up in a blinding flash of white light,
incinerating the arm buried in his armor and cleansing it of it's...darkness.
Health: ?/? ; ?/? ; ?/? ; ?/?
Inventory: ?
~~
Find a grave to relive of it's occupant
"...corpses that may just be rotting and dying and resting in forever peace-"
Tyver looked the dog, giving him the expression of one that needed silence. It complies.
"Well, I'm in a graveyard. Hm, do you have a name? You've never told me yours, but know mine somehow."
"Why yes! Yes I did! Do. Um, Yes. Well, I had a name, but you're free to name me as my last master just vanished," the dog said, trotting after Tyler as he checks the nearby tombstones.
"
Found one!"
"A cadaver?"
"No. A tomb of one, and a good one at that!"
The tomb was embroidered with fine stones and it's cast was of marble. The plaque was too old to read, having been cleaned and washed and probably changed with another due to a clumsy Undertaker's work.
"So how did you do it again?"
"Just, um, gesture to it, I suppose."
"Alright."
Tyler points the tip of his pike at the middle of the grave, and raises his left hand and it's central digit. "ARISE!"
A shriek echoes throughout the cemetary, north of Tyler as the tomb cracks and ruptures open due to the energy coming from both his gesturing hand and his pike.
"Ooh boy. That is one good co-"
The shriek continues from the north but is droned out by the
sound of metal coming forth from the grave. A man, about Tyler's height, heaves himself out and kicks away a good chunk of his holdings. He is garbed in an ancient style of clothing, but most intact - clothlike in appearance, with strange sigils on the mantle and hood of his cloak. The metallic sounds came from the lower end of his leather boots and the vambraces he wore on his forearms. Apparently, he had been a man of a high and well known stature but long forgotten, seeing the age on his...face, which the magic fixes quite easily. Filling every crevice and hole with an obsidian tinged mask.
The man stands regally in front of Tyler, staring at him, as if waiting for it's next command.
The Rogue hears a man crying out for help in the same direction the shrieking came from.
~~
"Oho! Ghouls, eh? You three look hungry. How about I go grab you some food, in exchange for a little help. Sound good?"
Cog looks at the graverobbers with a sly grin after finishing his statement, seeing
two of the creatures shamble slowly over to him, but with the look of promise in their failing eyes. The last one just stands there, not moving or acting at all, but bending over and seemingly...cringing?
Cog senses another being though, a being deep within the cenotaph moving towards the now-open entry. He casts another ward to protect himself
and it is barely enough to hold as the being shrieks once more, the power of the voice knocking him back a few feet and onto a figurative tombstone. The two ghouls flanking him stand
stoically, tilting their heads in confusion as they see no food.
However, the last Ghoul is engulfed in darkness as sweeping tendrils emerge from the structure and drag it in. The only sounds that could heard are it's insufferable wailing before going silent once more.
Until the shrieking continues again,
it's effect now dulled as Cog's senses grow accustomed to the noise.
Moments later, the being appears. A Spectre.
Utilizing it's position, the same tendrils surge forth from beyond the tomb and aim for the nearest target - Cog.
Who dives behind a nearby marker, not seeing the next
volley that passes by his other flank, cutting his forearm and his lower leg.
The young necromancer yells in pain as he scrambles away.
As he moves behind yet another gravemark, he can sense others nearby and instinctively calls for aid, no matter who they are.
Health: 25/25 ; 25/25
Inventory: Naked.
Health: ?/?
Inventory: Archaic Vestments (?)
~~
"...er, well then..."
Head to librarium.
Shalla glances around to check once more for any sign of the little sprite. It doesn't look like it will be returning any time soon, but thievery is out of the question. She turns around and moves through the long hallways, following the directions painted on the tapestries and engravings on the walls.
Soon enough, she finds herself facing an archaic stairwell, on the stairs are more engravings depicting scenes of an older time just like the ones seen in the Main Guildhall. Moving up the stairs, somehow illuminated by ambient lighting, the human encounters a wooden hatch. Slowly opening it, as it was night, she finds herself in the Librarium
Archives - the integral part of the local librarium, the trove of information that contained vital knowledge of the knowledge of the city's people. Blackmarsh may have been a backwater town, but it held crucial information on the darker sides of society.
As Shalla glanced around, she noticed the whole place shrouded in an eerie, moonlit glow. Rows of shelves surrounded her, filled with all manners of scrolls and tomes. At the bottom of those shelves were compilations of manuscripts and papers, bound by hardened leather. Farther around, she could see a spiral staircase leading upwards into where must be the lesser visited parts of the Librarium, as known by the signs on the wall adjacent her.
Passing by one of the bookshelves and peering about the room, it appears that she is
alone in the area. The Librarium was split into two floors, with she being on the first. The Archives were in a secluded location, near the backwall and hidden by what she could discern as a simple illusion spell. There were arching stained glass windows all around her. Casting a glance to the entrance doors, they seemed to be barred shut from the outside, considering the lack of locks or wooden beams. How quaint, a Guild had access to the library from the inside, and by a tunnel network at that!
However, she can hear sounds of a commotion coming from outside, judging by her position. It was probably another barfight or something.
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
5 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 | . )
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)
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 | Can shroud themselves in darkness for +1 to dodge |
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
Health: 40/40 (+1 combat modifier | Sentient)
Inventory:
Dark Linen CloakUndead Human
Health: ?/? (?)
Inventory:
Aged vestments (?)
Health: 90/100
30/30 (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: 90/100
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:55/75 (Sentient|
Wreathed in flame|
Distrust)
Inventory:
LongswordHealth: 80/100
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: -
Companion/s: -
Global Bonuses:Blessing of Lightbane; Crand's Folly
Notes:
> Updated the OP, hope it's partly understandable on the Mechanics
> Any object that is colored GREY is undergoing a cooldown and it's special ability cannot be used until the color changes.
> Sorry if I keep on alternating from present to past tense in grammar.
> Everyone now has Clothing! Redundant, but gladdening nonetheless.
> I promise all of you, the dice do not lie! Those 1s in Talarion's and Sinpwn's event was real!
>Tracking the locations of every companion is fun! Talarion's rat pack is nigh invisible under Caelondia's many roadside buildings while Hmh's fish swarm are just lurking by the shoreline. Day/Night play a crucial role here, even if not mentioned.
>
While I guess it is partly my fault for not mentioning it, RP'ing is fully fine by me, for anyone who wants to talk to anyone else.>Those rolls. Is this
normal to see all those sixes?
> Nothing else of note. Other than this. Note.
: Requested to edit your character sheet to include a backstory, and a possible name change. I have never heard of any Necromancer with the Mc"word" surname.
Author
Topic: Kings of Death - A Necromancy RTD: Turn 24: Blood and Honor (Read 39149 times)