Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Tiruin]

Feleris fingered the hilt of his knife while in thought. He couldn't leave the expedition, and if the meeting was a trap he had the tiniest of inklings that the perimeter was watched.

"Obviously, he won't go out and kill us out of the blue. I know the man, or at least the part that tells his needs. He won't kill those of use to him so we have time yet to sway the rest. Maybe...If we could convince this Angvard- well, you that is Ochita, then we might be able to save them yet. By the way, who was that lizard...erm, dragon-like thing that passed by? A Friend of yours?"

This company was very different from the rest, nearly friendly really.

[Ochita]

"Hrm... Well." He leans towards the elf. "Yes, I do have some lore on this area.. But now, I think we should make a plan, because I will not let the source get into a bigot's hands."

Ochita explained his plan, which was that he would try to get the intellectuals and mages onto Hal's side, and any other members that will leave the bigots side.

"We need to make him seem like a bad leader, if things go well, we can achieve a mostly painless and bloodless solution."

[Dwarmin]

-Quick Turn-

@Ochita, Feleris and Saren

Your impending treason against the self proclaimed ruler of the expedition is interrupted-a group of Stromgards toughs are moving through the half empty camp, looking for stragglers.

There are three of them, led by an a strikingly beautiful, yet evil seeming woman with raven black hair and dark lavender eyes. She's full plate mail armor, wielding a large spiked mace and square shield-all cast in jet black metal. Three less distinguishable thugs follow behind, with axes and light armor.

She spots a sleeping Halfling warrior and kicks him in the side, waking him up with a groan.

"Meeting in the center of the camp, attendance mandatory! Get your arse moving! Everybody attends! That means you runty."

Her posse moves in the general direction of Ochita, Feleris and Saren.

@Rhogar

Rhogar made his way out of camp, not attracting any undue attention.

Once he felt he was in a good spot to see anyone approaching, he hunkered in the shadow of an ancient tree and waited...but, the old impatience was gnawing at him.

Damn, that Orc was fast. He was already making up the time he lost-not even stopping to sleep apparently, using the powers of Khasrach to regenerate his endurance instead of making camp, most likely.

@Goseki

Goseki brewed her Kobold Bulb in the center of the camp-the smell discouraged any questions, and most assumed it was some sort of strange herbal remedy. Gosekis sense of smell was one of things that hadn't abandoned her in old age, ironically enough-she wore a makeshift mask over her mouth to filter out the stench.

Item Gained: +1 Vial of Gnomeblight/When applied, creates horrible stinging wounds, causing your next attack to do an additional +10% HP damage if your opponent doesn't beat an unmodified Power Roll. If thrown, the stench released makes combat impossible in the miasmal cloud for any creature with a sense of smell or taste. Gnomes, Halflings and Hobbits-along with similiar kin-are terrified of it, take double damage, and have a chance of being struck unconscious by the gas.

Later, she gently asked questions, using a soft voice of a slightly confused elder. Most talked to her readily.

"Meeting? Sounds suspicious. Stromgand hasn't really cared about being a good leader to anyone but his own people...I suppose I might go, try to be a voice of reason. " Says a young man named Halbarad. He's an alchemist-and he actually notices what you've been brewing.

"You should be careful, grandmother...some of those chemicals are very dangerous-but then again, I suppose you have enough skill to use them."

"Stromgand...we could have worse. He's got his personal faults, I agree...but he's doing the best he can...in impossible circumstances." Says an elderly warrior who has treated you with measured respect. "I was like him once...not times I'm proud of...."

"Ta-Caw! Stromgand horrible leader." Says a Kenku birdman you also question. He has a tendency to preen his feathers while talking, and reverting to his own chittering bird tounge.

"Kish ta pak! Leader should sacrifice for flock. No leader Stromgand...we will die, if following him. Da-ga-vak cutalacaw...

Name is Creek-Greek, old lady. Creek is...just honest warrior. Takhala..."

You can't help but notice the Kenku is carrying a variety of not very well hidden throwing knives and poisonous vials on his person. And a number of very well hidden blades where most people would miss. You theorize he may be an assassin-or even a ninja, of the sort fashioned by his own race.

Goseki Reflexes Roll [3+2], reroll [4+2] Vs Stromgand Detection Roll [6-1]

-10% ST

Goseki found a quiet spot overlooking the meeting place. And when Stromgand, distracted though he seemed to be, scanned the treeline several times-she was out of sight, innocently passing behind the trees...

She knelt on the hill, overlooking the meeting. It hadn't started yet, but she noticed most of the people already seemed agitated by something-you hear a few floating voices mentioning "Winter" and "Orcs". Stromgand seemed to be trying to keep everyone calm until the group was mostly collected.

[micelus]

"Yes...um I'll speak to Angvard . One of you should speak to Halbarad. We'll meet again soon."

Saren left her allies with a rush and headed straight for the mages and their leader, explaining that it had to do with their survival. Also say that I am a mage.

[Dwarmin]

Saren is the first to dash off, as the Lady in Black moves closer...

...

She enters the tent of the archwizard-easy enough to tell, because it's made of cloth that shimmers with all the colors of the rainbow.

Saren finds Angvard inside, poring over his tomes and drinking from a goblet, like any good Archmage should be.

He looks like a stereotypical archmage-positively ancient, with a large beard and a pointed hat. His eyes are odd-they are just brilliant blue sparks-iris, pupil and all. It's the mark of one who has considerable magical knowledge.

He sees Saren, and raises one bushy grey eyebrow, and his hands moves to the comfort of his staff-a length of steel tipped with a blinding ruby crowning it. Arcane Flames dance and spin within it's depths.

"Yes?"  He says, rubbing his beard. Angvards voice seems to echo, as if he's speaking from a distance...

Saren tells him it's about survival-and he can already tell you are some sort of caster.

"Do speak up. What do I have to fear from a half-wit Ranger, blinded by his hate...among other things...

If you insist on wasting my time, I suggest you be quick about it..."

He looks Saren up and down

"Also, you are Conjurer, I take it. Hmm, I know the Company wouldn't have set you here...they have an eye for gold, blind to all else...but, that makes you a criminal, doesn't it?"

Angvard smiles-though, it's a cold smile, devoid of any real joy.

"Tell me why I shouldn't turn you into a gecko and send you back to your precious company via a planar gate? Your King would probably reward me for your capture..."

Angvard taps his chin thoughtfully.

[micelus]

Maybe I should have been more cautious....

"Yes, you could just do that with your abilities, but what would be the point? All the king would give is gold and his thanks. No knowledge, no power, and no trust. The only mages he values are my fellow countrymen, such as the Company. And my lord, what would you call a criminal? One who breaks the law? One who risks his life to survive? One who does what is not accepted? If so, then I am one but only because I wish to do what is right, and not waste my abilities on just acquiring a profit." She said the last word with scorn.

"But I didn't come here to speak for my criminality or why you should send me back to Tyria, no I came here to speak to you about Stromgard. Yes, he is a fool but even fools can speak. He can gather together most of these adventurers to his side and I've heard of his sadism. He will have us slaughtered at this meeting, even you and your people. And if he doesn't, then surely he will have you killed at the Fortress. You may not think him worth your time, but trust me when I say that the determination of a mob can overwhelm even the greatest powers."

Saren paused and then said, "I propose that you and your circle prepare themselves for a fight. Perhaps even striking first...As dishonourble as that is."

[IronyOwl]

Rykmar leaned in closer, gently gripping her chin between his index finger and thumb. He tilted her head slightly to either side as though inspecting it, giving an appreciative hum as he did so. Releasing his grip, mainly so he could snake it around behind her, he refocused on her eyes, now only a few inches away.

"Horrible things, you say?" he asked, in the sort of seductive tone one might use when invited to one's room for a night.

He sidled a bit closer, bringing his lips closer to her ears and slowly wrapping his arm around her waist. "You know," he whispered, "With that sort of power you could do anything you wanted. Have anything you wanted. Why are you all alone? Do these fools not know their betters when they see them? Do they not know your mercy is all that keeps their flesh on their bones?"

He drew his head back, but not by much. Smiling seductively at her again, he gave a moment for his words to sink in. Then he continued at a more normal tone and volume.

"Why don't you come with me, and we can acquire everything you've ever wanted?"

[Dwarmin]

@Saren

Angvard crosses his fingers.

"You speak boldy for one so young...

In any case, you need not worry, for the King has nothing vauluable enough to entice me so."

Angvard turns back to his tome. Saren notices the pages he's looking at are moving, as if the picture was alive-it's some sort of battle scene, set in a swamp land...she makes out a horrible seven headed dragon like beast, striking at many warriors who encircle it and strike desperately with spears.

"I am not sure if Stromgand intends such overt violence-more likely, he intends us to press into the teeth of the Orcish encampment that is blocking the only path to the Fortress before Winter entombs us in this valley...though I guess you didn't know about all that.

It's true, though-a sizable enemy that has seemingly risen from no where to impede our progess...I suspect the Orcs may have been summoned by their Goddess Khasrach, for what purpose I cannot divine. My scrying showed many of their priests and divine champions among the host. It's not nearly enough to hold us back-but  our Expedition will be grievously reduced in the battle.

We can both guess his personal followers will not be leading the charge."

Angvard closes his book, and turns back to Saren.

"I have no intention of being beaten to death by a peasant mob-or running into the teeth of determined Orcish resistance. I and my circle of followers have already made plans to sneak through the mountain passes, bypassing the enemy entirely...I suggest you do the same. If you have any friends here, I suggest you find a different path and do the same. As you say, Stromgard has numerical advantage, for now.

Or, try and convince the rest of them what I've told you...and Stromgard will no doubt deign to strike you and your allies down to enforce discipline. Such is way of...inferior minds."

Angvard begins motioning to his books and supplies with his hand, making them vanish-transplanting them into interdimensional storage, probably.

He looks at Saren with a hint of immense regret in his withered features.

"One last word of advice, young one. Turn around. Go home. Live your life. Build a home, find someone to love, have your children...the Company and the King may still forgive you, even now-I would even put it a good word for you. For, these are the things I threw away in the quest for the Source. It took me this long to realize how wrong I was...it's all a lie, in the end."

He sighs.

"...for, If we ever meet again-and that is not likely-I will carry out my earlier threat. No one will keep me from the Source...I will find it, and undo time...and reverse this sad fate that I thrust upon myself. Or die trying. It is my only hope."

You get the feeling he's quite serious about that. He walks out of the tent without another word-it pops out of existence around you a moment later.

Angvard and his fellow spellcasters begin to move North, in total silence.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
@Rykmar

The Necromancer first seems to freeze at your touch, her hand creeping to her twisted black wand. She is limp and unresisting to your efforts otherwise.

Then she relaxes...

She speaks, in quiet tone-almost like a child.

"Fear. That's all I've never known. Fear of those who would Punish me. Fear of those I would harm...fear of my own power. Fear of getting getting close to anyone.

All I want...is to not be afraid anymore.

That's not so much to ask."

She turns to you-haunted, sunken eyes-pleading...

"This Source...I need it. And once I have it...I won't have to be afraid...of anything...or anyone."

The woman-who has a certain attractiveness in the firelight, at least-moves a bit closer-her own bony hand snaking around Rykmars side. He manages not to grimace.

"Please, take me with you. I'm...I...can't do it by myself.

You're so fearless...usually no one can stand to look at me...knowing what I am...

Can you teach me to be like you? Who are you anyway? Why do you care so much?"

The Necromancer can not see Rykmars smile in the shadows, so sneakily hidden by the slight tilt of his head.

Fear leads to Anger...

[IronyOwl]

Rykmar was cackling madly to himself internally. Fear of ones own power? Oh, how could one ever overcome such a dire problem?


"Of course," he said soothingly. "My name is Rykmar, and I wish to rule this world. But, I couldn't ignore such a beautiful, powerful creature such as yourself, especially not sitting alone out here like an exile. No no, you need to be in a place of power. Feared, respected, obeyed, admired...

You're above these vermin, you know. Fearing them is wise, so long as they can overpower you, but they are ultimately just fearful little maggots. Go find one at random, and odds are you could effortlessly crush them like a bug. It's only natural that they should fear and hate you, because they know they're just a false step away from being flayed alive on a whim."

[Dwarmin]

Rykmar knows what she's going to say before she does. This one's read too many romantic novels in her lonely hours...

"You th..think I'm beautiful?"

They talk more. Rykmar taps into the deep well of anger with his words.

Yes...he sees images of her life flash before him.

Her name is Cria-Cria Allwell, though she despises her second name.

Allwell? Alls well? What a sick joke.

Crias powers manifested early. Rykmar can see into the memories she doesn't consciously recall.

Raising a dead bird crushed by the wheel of a cart when she was only 5.

At 7, reanimating a Rat drowned in a water barrel.

At 11, bringing her pet dog back to life after a cruel neighbor had poisoned it-watching it burst from the rotted ground and shamble toward said neighbor, obeying her rage and pain, seeking revenge.

But fear...the all consuming fear makes her destroy them before they can act. Fear. Her family knew of course.

Oh! Rykmar supresses another laugh. Look at this.

Her Father...was a PRIEST. A devout. holy Priest, who had done such good works, prayed so fervently, been such a good worshipper, tended to the sick and wounded...and his only daughter...was a Necromancer. Delecious.

Seems for all his good works, he hated and feared her rather than showing her love and understanding...predictable.

Cria is hounded from her hometown at 17. Rykmar feels the pain of the rocks as they rain down upon her, the sting of the taunts. Cast out the Heathen. Kill the Witch. Go Die in a hole, you monster.

Lonliness. One place to another. Never staying too long...but trying to come with terms to her powers. Stealing forbidden books, living in crypts and abandoned homes-not trusting anyone. The books are her only friends in the dark, by the candlelight she reads. She shuns the sunlight, living in abandoned tombs and dungeons. Cria learns to make the Undead protect her....

People attack her again, and this time the rock throwers are torn apart by her monsters-Rykmar is pleased to see these are no shambling invalids, slowly stumbling forward with clumsy grasping hands.

These are fully formed Undead monsters-many with specially formed weapons, their arms twisted into scythes or maces, slabs of muscle and bone rearranged into body armor, protecting the vulnerable brain and joints. Quite nice.

She lacks control, of course-loosing them upon her foes, and trying to tell them to be merciful. They are not. She has regrets now, wataching her enemies die...meaningless regrets. Contemplates Suicide. Rykmar laughs again, internally.

Then...finding out about the Source...changes everything...

Cria is staring at Rykmar with a look of confusion. She could almost feel...like someone was in her head...

"My name is Cria. P..p...pleased to meet you, Rykmar."

She smiles Shyly.

[IronyOwl]

Rykmar smiles warmly back, convinced that he'd be tearing up from laughter were he not restraining himself.

"Of course I do. Inside and out, Cria," he said softly.

"It seems that you've been very sad a lot, though. I don't like that. Let's make sure you're not sad anymore, shall we?" He gave her another warm smile, letting her know that he was there for her. As he was the first and only one, that probably meant he was a fair portion of her world right now. The thought that he might even be more important than the Source to her right now made him even more pleased, and he was certain Pride would agree.

With his pet secure, all that was left was to make her feel more comfortable... and adjust her worldview to that befitting such a powerful entity. His original plan had been modified in order to please Lust, but now he had changed his mind again. He was less desperate now, for one thing, since this minion had wildly exceeded his expectations. He'd decided that a more long-term approach would be more beneficial, for another. Leaving his bed open as a potential goal might be more impressive to Lust, or at least display more commitment to the idea, than simply seducing her on the spot. Even if it wasn't, he felt giving their relationship a bit of room for progression might pay off in the long term. Making her feel like she was accomplishing something and making progress, especially on a front he was fairly certain she had zero experience in, should help bolster her ego and commitment to him, both of which were always good.

So... that just left small talk, for the most part. For an ally of this quality, that was certainly something he was willing to endure.


Continue conversing with Cria and generally keeping her company, including moving dwelling nearby/living in hers.

[Zako]

This was almost the last straw. That damn orc was up to no good, and here he was, waiting under a tree! He was sorely tempted to just leave right now, but that was his god's ways talking. He was still ahead of his opposite, he could still get there first. They just had to leave real soon is all.

Giving up waiting, Rhogar heads back into camp, not caring if he is seen, and begins to look for those that he saw talking before. He saw a shimmering tent suddenly dissapear, and where it once stood was the human looking somewhat concerned about something. He took the risk and walked right up to him, ignoring when the woman in full plate, who was clearly evil, he could almost smell the taint coming off her, came to tell him to head to the center of the camp. Striding quickly to the human male, towering over him in his full plate, he spoke quickly.

"I've had enough waiting. Time is of the essence right now, and here you go, bandying words with a wizzard! Are you going or not?"

[micelus]

((I think you mean me, Zako. I was the one with the wizard. If not, I'll edit this post.))

"Ah, yes. Come on...It is unlikely that we could defeat Stromgard now...Anyway, the wizard has warned me; there is an orc encampment blocking the only way into the Fortress. We can probably sneak by some how...Should we round up the others before we leave?"

[Tiruin]

Feleris uttered a silent curse to nobody in particular, Stromgand was very concerned with this meeting of his. The lizardman- what was he/she called again, was it Sa'ren? Dashed off before anything else could be said. The group of toughs were moving closer and closer, they hadn't been noticed as of yet he could guess, their leader must most likely be the Blackguard he saw earlier, or at least one of his personal lackeys 'convincing' everyone to attend.

In any case, staying with Stromgand was going to be something he would regret. So he decided to link up with his ally, and maybe warn him.

"I'm sorry to depart like so, but we can't risk getting caught in this situation. I'm heading over to Halbarad. I'll try to convince him about your plan. Sa'ren headed that way," he acted and pointed as if telling a story so as to not attract suspicion.

"Whatever path you take, may my blessings be with you Ochita and may the Goddess watch over us all."

Feleris strode nonchalantly away from Ochita, proceeding to Halbarad's tent, according to plan.

[Zako]

(Man, I don't even know anymore. Let's just say yes for the sake of progress.)

"Orc encampment? That bitch..."

Rhogar cursed again quietly, knowing that his opponent had been behind this. Calling for help from it's god, no dout because it was scared that it would loose. Well, two can play the god calling game...

"Did he say how big this encampment was? In any case, I have a plan for taking care of them, and if it doesn't work, we will sneak around. Go gather the others who would journey with us, but do so quickly. We need to leave soon, before we are forced to go to this 'meeting' and are delayed further. Don't take longer than ten minutes, and make sure your fellows meet me outside the camp to the west in that time if I haven't joined you."