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#106
11-09-2009, 01:26 PM
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AC 18, Fort 15, Ref 17, Will 12, HP 41/41, Surges used 2/9
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#107
11-09-2009, 01:36 PM
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You see the blurry vision of houdish fury slowly turn into the Dwarf again, he keeps in his crouched position glaring at Bebop Braga... Braga bad! his voice is a mixture of shouting anger ans slightly quieter confusion Braga hurt... savage... My.... Village... Braga... Kill Braga kill village! Mother.... Father.... tall.... tall mother a tear forms in his eye Mother... his voice again begins to rise Orcs.... Braga orcs kill! Imprison treat like animal.... Kill... kill... rats... Shifter pride... destroyed.... my village....
__________________He stands and wipes his tears away with his beard, throwing his spear at the dead body of the Kruthik in anger Mans weapons... Orckish... tools... evil.... bring pain.... Animals...... animals.... |
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#108
11-09-2009, 05:02 PM
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HP: 43/43 Srgs: 2/10 AC: 23 F:19 R:17 W:18 AP: 1
The stoic paladin walks over to the Dwarf and putting a hand on his shoulder says, "Steel yourself, the atrocities wrought by Braga are numerous and horrific, but this is not how we should remember the dead." His voice still calm and even, a touch of sadness breaks though with Ezekiel's words, "Remember your friends, your companions, your family, with honor, good Dwarf, and prepare yourself to take up their banners. Join us and honor them as we fight for those that we have lost against Braga and those we must not."
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#109
11-09-2009, 05:06 PM
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The Dwarf stops as Ezekiel speaks Dwarf?... Flint see no Dwarf... he hunches again, and looks around the room, eyeing the shadows to see if anyone is hiding that he hasn't noticed. Ignoring Ezekiel as he finishes his speach.
__________________He then sits on the floor to bite his toenails, ignoring the world as Digana dies, noble actions and speeches are made. Prefer... Animal... They can stretch far enough to clean body... he Dwarf smiles vacantly as he remembers the simple joys of animal grooming habits |
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#110
11-09-2009, 05:14 PM
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The musical magic of the gnome brightens Ossyn's face, as does coincidentally the bright cord of lightning. He manages to turn in time to watch helplessly as the dwarf-turned-hound mauls both lady and beast, sending the latter to its death and the former a step closer.
Sweeping up his overly-large weapon as if it weighted no more than a feather, the elf tenses up. Good doggy... his eyes say, but it is not his glance that diffuses the situation. And certainly not the roll of thunder that leaves the shifter not at all fazed. Once more, the wand and blade bearing midget spreads a bit of peace among the riled nerves of the inmates, followed by the stoic presence of the knightly man. Crouching, Ossyn makes to hold Digana's hand - a slow, careful motion not to make any threatening gestures to the feral dwarf. His voice is very gentle and warm, a counterpoint to the cold words of the half-orc. "Everything is going to be fine, milady. We're all going to get out of here, we're all going to taste freedom. With a dash of vengeance on the side, and even a sprinkle of romance too, when my lady love and I next meet." His words are spoken shakily, but with a heavy trace of whimsy and hope. He stands up slowly, his blade gripped in one hand with it's tip on the floor. Ossyn takes a deep breath, and dares to speak to the vicious yet clearly confused dwarf. His voice bears a tentative kindness to it, and he adds his two cents to the others' pleas. "Please sir, we've all been wronged. Perhaps you most of all. But I believe that together we have a chance to right these wrongs. And behind that door, bearing the foul mark of Bane, warmonger of the gods, lies one who has trapped us. Let us strike not at each other, but at he who would cause such strife among us. If you cannot or will not trust that we are not responsible for your torment, that we all just want our freedom, then please - don't bar our way. But I would band with you, and band with these followers of Digana, if you would accept such companionship. Even if it's only until we breathe fresh air again." He tries on a tentative smile, clearly frightened by the now-unarmed bearded fellow nibbling on his toenails, with beads of sweat forming at the elf's brow. He doesn't even know his own race, the poor fellow. I pray he isn't too far gone... |
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#111
11-09-2009, 05:27 PM
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Tears in her own eyes, accepting Ossyn's hand but disconnecting from it a second later, Digana has disbelief, confusion and a lot of pain etched onto her once so fair face. She crawls away until she's next to Gildor... Flint's savage attacks had almost killed the woman, and had definitely killed the young Kruthik. Gor, Ezekiel and Bebop's attempts to stop the hound from causing further harm seem to be fruitful, though.
Digana sits up against the wall next to Gildor and pants heavily, blood pouring from her neck, where her former pet had slashed her with its mandibles and where Flint had ripped at her throat in a truly barbaric fashion. She clutched the wounds with both of her bare, scarlet hands. Dried bloodclots combined with fresh pools mark the path Digana crawled. Her once blue-white dress now resembles a butcher's apron. She is unable to speak... perhaps her vocal cords have taken damage from these monstrous animals' jaws. When Flint spills out his heart in shards of broken memory, Digana can only gape open-mouthed and shake her head in disgust. At the mention of Bane's symbol on the door, Digana quickly glances at Ossyn, surprised by his knowledge of the dark gods of the world, yet her gaze returns towards Flint almost instantly. That one would not so quickly regain her trust, if he ever would. |
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#112
11-09-2009, 06:23 PM
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Bebop looks about him, satisfied, as he sheathes his blade and tucks his wand into his belt. Nodding at Ossyn, he says, "Indeed, friend elf, that is the mark of Bane... and I suggest we rest here a moment before entering a door with such a mark. Some of the Gods are good, others are mischievous or mysterious... Bane falls with none of those groups. Never liked him much." He says this matter-of-factly, as one would speak of a person they didn't care for. He pulls out his lyre and begins a soft, yet uplifting tune, and to those around it seems almost as though the notes flow particularly strong around Digana.
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#113
11-10-2009, 12:23 AM
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Gor scoffs at the gnome's use of the word friend. "Some trust too easily..." he thinks as he walks over to the door. Unfortunately, he has no clue what it represents nor does he know who Bane is. A hint of bewilderment spreads across his face. Bebop's explanation gives a decent representation, however, it registers as unnecessary information in the half-orc's mind. "Let's just find a way out of this room. These dead creatures are starting to smell and I'm getting aggravated. Ezekiel, do you still have that blue potion?" Gor looks for a knob to open. Last edited by Tendolhorse; 11-10-2009 at 08:27 AM. |
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#114
11-10-2009, 04:49 PM
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Gor doesn't see a knob. The door doesn't seem to have hinges, and fits the steel frame like a window. Apart from the bovine symbol carved into the heavy dark wood, the absence of a door knob and hinges, the door otherwise seems normal. At the moment, not a sound is heard apart from the ex-inmates' breathing and talking.
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#116
11-11-2009, 04:39 PM
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You... up nose Elf... big... words.... Flint.... he furrows his brow before standing and thumping his hand on his chest Flint... shifter pride! No... harm others..... they... not... bad... yet... Braga.... you see him physically have to restrain himself from attack her again Braga bad.... in wild.... there no lies.... no decep.... decep.... decep.... no nasty! he changes from man to beast, beast to man every few seconds, the shapes aren't the finely crafted form as usual, these are primal flurries of pure natural rage and power, the speech continues Braga.... Orcs... capture flint... rats..... city.... slave.... slave.... girl.... nice.... fear... fat.... man... man.... ELF! hurt..... rain.... rain.... scraps..... Braga.... the shifting slows, then stops, finally ending in Dwarven form Shifters... mother... tall mother... as he slumps once again to the ground
__________________ |
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#117
11-11-2009, 07:17 PM
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Ossyn's attention is rapt on the barely coherant shape-shifting dwarf-hound. Whether he is a dwarf that turns into a hound, or vice-versa, is not clear, and he purses his lips as he tries to understand the fragmented grammar of the rather terrifying fellow, and his sudden wildfire like changes.
He touches his nose with a pristine hand at one point before responding, and then begins a bout of communication. "Me, elf, Ossyn. You Flint, of shifter family. Orcs kill, trap Flint, bring to city. Flint slave. No more slave, fight bad men. Bad Braga men, not good Braga daughter. Good, innocent, nice, Braga daughter. Help us. No hurt. We go, fight bad man, escape. Free." He doesn't speak as if he's communicating to a simpleton, just to someone with a poor grasp of the Common tongue - each word slowly and precisely said. His face is a mask of politeness, and he makes to move away from the feral fellow. A hand is pressed to the graze on his shoulder, which quickly ceases its meager flow of blood as they all take a bit of a breather. Still, he grips his long curved blade by its bone hilt in one hand, like a courtly gentleman holding a cane. Ossyn then moves next to rather cold half-orc as he mentions getting out of here, and the stink of the corpses. He nods his head to him politely. "I agree sir. I shall see if my eyes or divine gifts can be of use in furthering our escape." And with said, he inspects the doorway and the surrounding wall as if it were a curious piece of art. As others discuss some potion or another, he's squinting, sniffing, blowing upon, and otherwise scrutinizing the apparent portal before them. |
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#118
11-12-2009, 05:36 AM
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Flints eyes narrow as Ossyn talks Talk....proper... Flint.... no simpleton... understand..... understand..... pain.... no.... talk..... treat like..... like fair... man ... fair man... Flint deserve.... deserve fair....
__________________It's obvious Flint is insulted by Ossyn's pattern of speech Last edited by Naresh; 11-12-2009 at 05:36 AM. |
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#119
11-12-2009, 02:03 PM
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Ossyn responds to the insulted dwarf, his polite face mask cracking at the offense he has given. He seems very confused. "Pardon sir, when you said I spoke 'big words', I thought you did not understand them. Very well, I shall speak to you as I normally do, and I do hope your pain abates. We all deserve fair treatment of course."
A bit of passion picks up his voice, as his uncomfortability is overruled by his unhappiness over the assault Flint had perpetrated. There is a bit of sarcasm in his last words, as he flicks his gaze to Digana, before returning his gaze to the dwarf. Fair, like assaulting the daughter for the sins of the father? his eyes seem to say. Then, his mask of politeness returns and he bows his head. As he turns his back on the shapeshifter, and indeed to everyone, he makes an exasperated face. Nothing I do seems to be right... a woman under my care gets her throat slit, then mauled, and would have died if not for the gnome. I've offended a clearly emotionally damaged feral dwarf who doesn't think he's a dwarf. And worst of all my lovely suit is damaged. My lady surely will think ill of me if she sees a blood splattered attire such as I wear... So his thoughts run as goes to inspect the door. |
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#120
11-12-2009, 03:47 PM
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Seeing Ossyn messing with the door, Bebop arms himself again, drawing his sword from its sheath and his wand from his belt. "We'd better be prepared if we're going to go messing around with that door... it could just be another door with a trick latch, or it could activate another portal like the last door..."
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