Game Thread Chapter 9: The Song Nobody Knows - Page 9 - RPG Crossing
RPG Crossing Home Forums Create An Account! Site Rules & Help

RPG Crossing
Go Back   RPG Crossing > Games > Dungeons & Dragons: 5e > Ghosts of Saltmarsh
twitter facebook mastodon bluesky

Notices

Reply
 
Thread Tools
  #121  
Old Feb 5th, 2024, 08:52 PM
PlaidPeregrine's Avatar
PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine is online now
Story Harvester
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 32381
PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine
Posts: 7,449
Tempest, Siren
left-aligned image

There was no denying that Tempest was, indeed, a bloodthirsty Siren. A beautiful one. A glorious one. One who deserved her own territory now that strayed away from her family's. Violence was their way. To Claim. To Kill. Yet, she Prays. Dances. Demands Baubles. Selective Killing.

How she wanted to rip into Peisinoe and her seduction as a matron of Death. How she has named Fela. CLAIMED her, but Fela cannot be claimed so easily. None of them can be. Not Bingle. Not Falco. Not Banx. The Siren's blood roiled with the sight of La Belle Dame sans Merci and her LOUNGING in the clouds of blood both Human and Fey. It was not as if she had not seen such before, or tasted blood and flesh in a frenzy. Peisinoe cannot claim those she had claimed as friends. As much as she wanted to rush the Elder Siren, to slam into her, to tumble through the splintered wood of the ship - such a fight would mirror that with the Hag, would it not - Tempest flicked her tail and held her pace as the paladin held her own, bright smite keeping the endless shadows at bay.

The 'eggless', 'motherless' young Siren approached without hurry, with no more than a sneer twitched on her lips. Banx was not shaken off; she tried to think of him as a very innocent-looking mantis shrimp who could pack quite a punch.

Tempest drifted closer to Fela, fighting and encoiled, embraced. Her tail spread wide and sapphire scales glistened before she slammed her tail and turned to round the paladin as she whispered her Elven prayer between wanting lips and feral teeth. It wasn't a prayer for radiant light, glorious spring rain or wind billowing the sails. No….it was a call for a storm's wrath, the destruction, the threatening darkness of a tempest that would topple masts and cast half of the crew into the sea to meet a dark fate. This was her song of entropy for Peisinoe's blood-shimmering reign. With an agile sweep of her tail through the water, the protective Siren shot her unclawed hand out to press veiny, dark pain into the Hooded Mind as she tried to keep her wits about her a moment more. "Merciless Queen, name me and know only the deserving will dine well."
Stat Block
 
Actions & Movement
 
__________________
Posting: Slowish. Stressed. Doing my best!
"Speak your mind even if your voice shakes." RBG

She/Her
Reply With Quote
  #122  
Old Feb 5th, 2024, 10:32 PM
AnotherDragoon's Avatar
AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon is online now
voracious Book-Eater
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 39599
AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon
Posts: 6,288
Down amongst th' bones o' ships an' other things
right-aligned image

It were awfully hard t' focus on ever'thing happenin' all at once in this silent reef o' an ancient Siren but Bingle an' Banx were out here with 'im. Fela had chased Peisinoe into that broken hull what Tempest busted open. She paused on her way in through th' new hole an' lifted Falco outta th hazy fog o' plant poison with divine magic before takin' Banx with her.

Th' Hooded Mind had so far been toyin' with 'em. Usin' tricks an' charms t' separate 'em or have 'em fight each other. She hasn't tried t' take 'em all on directly. Here they was, Ten Fang Fury. Th' indomitable wills o' exceptional psyches aligned t'wards a shared goal. Peisinoe jus' happened t' be directly in their way.

Falco dove down when her think-speech called out an' beckoned them closer. His friends was down there in that broken hull so he swan hard, ten feet down until he could see 'em. Fela an' Pesinoe wrapped up in waters tinted with their minglin' blood. Tempest was there too with eyes o' violence.

When he found himself within thirty feet o' Fela, Falco sent a Aura of Vitality: 6 HPsurge o' healin' energy through th' weave via th' aura he borrowed from th' stars. Then, he drew 'is moon sickle an' slashed it through th' water while Guiding Bolt cast at second level: Dirty 20 to hit for 23 radiant damagebubbling out th' arcane words what sent a streak o' starlight boltin' straight into th' murderous Siren bound by Fela's arms where it set her shimmerin' scales Next attack on Peisinoe is with advantagesoftly aglow in a dim silvery light. Now she had seen them, Ten Fang Fury.

Mechanics
Drink Counter: 0/3

 

 

 

 

__________________
He/Him
Want to see some Spelljamming? Join me and the other Astral Agents as jbear plots a course through Wildspace! roleINC on YouTube.
Reply With Quote
  #123  
Old Feb 6th, 2024, 07:38 AM
lostcheerio's Avatar
lostcheerio lostcheerio is offline
Swords, not words!
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 52306
lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio
Posts: 10,804
Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
right-aligned image

Her friends surging forward into the hole in the upturned hull of the shipwreck, Bingle feels stretched between Harlan in the fey wreck and the fight ahead. Swimming and breathing water at the same time, swallowing salt and brushing her hat back out of her face with cold fingers, she struggles to keep up with either the agile crab or the strong swimmers. She looks for Banx. Underwater or on land, as barve as it's possible to be. She looks for Falco. The three of them are small together, trailing behind, struggling to get in view. She can follow Falco as he dives into the hole, and swim toward Banx as hard as she can. Bingle squeezes herself hard, and watches her fingers turn to web, as her body breaks out in gills. This is faster. She follows the others into the hole. It's quiet down here, all sounds muffled and damp. No screams. No shouts.

Harlan puts himself between the skull formation and the turtle shell. These have something to do with each other -- maybe altering one shuts down the other? But then the plants, the beautiful plants, would be killed by the salt water. What is the purpose? Why is the water turning fresh? And what would be the outcome, if one were to, say, disturb one of those triangles, or with a delicate hand remove one of those skulls? None of these have anything to do with eating or growing, probably, but he does have a job to do here. After giving it intense consideration with all the limited crab brain at his disposal, Harlan skitters over to the other door, on the south end of the wall.

To the green bubbles, til our joints all crack,
We'll get so swole we can never go back
To the little old shell and the tiny old hole
In the dry river bank, with the slug and the mole!

Harlan has no memories of a slug or a mole. He kind of thinks maybe crabs live in trees or tenements. And eat slugs. But he urgently wants to impress Most Molts. And get that door open.


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


ۜ\(ಠ_ಠ)/ۜ
 
[/QUOTE][/QUOTE]
__________________
Big Brother is watching you play RPGs.
👁️👁️👁️ 1984 by George Orwell 👁️👁️👁️
Enter the panopticon at the RPGX Book Club

Last edited by lostcheerio; Feb 6th, 2024 at 07:44 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #124  
Old Feb 6th, 2024, 10:38 AM
Fillyjonk's Avatar
Fillyjonk Fillyjonk is offline
#Bard4Life
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 44865
Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk
Posts: 12,347
THE HOODED MIND
left-aligned image
Harlan Most Molts treads water, craning his stalked lookers all about. The plants in here are not meant to be fully submerged in ANY kind of water. They are not growing or even alive like the ones above that are in the path of the bubbles. These are dead, like the ones above that are not in the bubbles.

The door looks exactly like the door you just came through---wooden, shippish, thick, rounded arch---but closed. You cannot tell if it is locked, and opening it seems beyong your small thumbless clickers. A few little green bubbles seep out from under the door and rise, lazy...

Bingle, you change. Fundamentally. Webs in between your fingers now, gills in your throat...it would be interesting if you weren't pulled in two directions and so damn busy. You can see Pesinoe now, bleeding, very hurt, quiescent in Fela's arms.

Falco, you bright, blazing glory, you belong to the stars and you use their light, first to heal the paladin, then to harm the creature twined in close to her. Her gaze locks on yours even as your bolt gilds her in starlight--- You feel this gaze as a draining, as this legendary nightmare pulls life out of you and into herself again.

Fela, the two of you are locked together, close in, trading blows. You are hurting, badly, so is she. You smite her again, even as your god refills the well of your Weave. Bending into you, happy in your arms, she feels it happening, but she is not afraid. She is in pain, torn and even listing, but also exhilarated. You see it. Perhaps she will die here. This is, for her, an uncommon experience, and she is old enough to find it interesting. That strange soundless, wordless, imageless, voiceless is talking to all of you, a toner of repect, joy, curiosity. She isn't beaten, and she loves the challenge. Worth-Wounds, after rip head, place siren-side, yes, honor, yes.

You continue to hold her, dragging her back closer to your compatriots who are with you in this churning, bloody slosh, and she doesn't fight you or try to break your hold.

Tempest what you do shocks her. You see it. No claws on your very elfish hand. You have spent much time in your legged form. You do not rip at her, but put your palm flat to her flash and pulse rot into her. She didn't expect this anymore than you expected some fo the tricks that she has pulled. It rends her from the inside out, and for the first time, in the psychic link she has forged to speak to you, you sense concern. An edge of fear. Siren, do you like it? Your genes do.

She bares her teeth, then flutes in aquaan, Ah Beauty, are you your mother's monster, or your father's maiden? What will you choose? My death or this one's life? She glances at Fela and licks her lips.

Here you are, all of you together, inside this broken ship. It is dim light only here in the hull, and the water is darkened by your mingled blood, but you all see each other, and as you band together to hurt her, she reacts with a pulse of feeling. It pushes out from her and into you.

Tempest, you know this move. Your mother can do this. She is trying to sweep you up into a vision of your victory, and if you fall for it, if you imagine it, you will hang slack in the water and she will take that victory from you. You push it away. Banx, half sheletered behind you, also pushes it away.

The rest of you---oh, your hands go slack, your gazes turn inward. What do you see there, what bright glory do you hold in the most secret corner of your heart?

Tempest, as Fela drops her sword, her shield, and her arms fall away from the Siren, Pesinoe meets your eyes and tears her open. Fela begins to sink, her heavy armor pulling her down after her sword and shield, her eyes glazed over, her strong form gone wholly slack.

The Hooded Mind laughs and slips away, disappearing down the hole. You can no longer see her.



OOC

Falco, Bingle, and Fela have the PARALYZED condition for one round. You ALL drop everything you are holding (for Fela, this includes, sword, shield, and siren) and drift for the next round. You can make no attack, have no actions or movement, but instead you are entirely caught up in a vision of getting the thing that you desire most. Not what you think you desire most, your true est heart's desire. Spend the round telling me what each character sees. You can take no other actions this round.

This would happen to Fela BEFORE Peisinoe puts her unconscious, so PTWIDS can end her vision with her going unconscious, but Fela would still have it. AT the end of the round, unless Plaid heals her, please roll her first death save.

TEMPEST can take an AoO if she wishes, but Banx is on her back and therefore not within 5 feet. Tempe can roll with ADV as she passed the con save and has Guiding Bolt. There is no way that you can kill her (she just healed for 12) UNLESS YOU CRIT and ROLL HIGH sooooo---do that!

Name Health AC Damage Conditions Concentrating
Bingle 39/39 13 Blessed, PARALYZED one round 
Harlan211   
Falco 6/4512-6 -10 -13 -6 -9 -13 +7 -12PARALYZED one round 
Fela 0/52 16 (shield dropped)-3 -8 -11 +22 -8 +5 -25Bless, Paralyzed one round, Unconscious 
Tempest32/4517-23 +10BlessBless
Banx24/2412   
PeisinoeWell Beyond Bloody16-5 -3 -2 -4 -8 -20 -13+13 -12 -18 -18 -24 -34 +12 

__________________
Your book club attendance is not mandatory; all absences will be observed and noted by the ministry
✨🌟1984 by George Orwell🌟✨
Come learn what to think of this book and how to think it.

Last edited by Fillyjonk; Feb 6th, 2024 at 10:39 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #125  
Old Feb 7th, 2024, 09:03 AM
lostcheerio's Avatar
lostcheerio lostcheerio is offline
Swords, not words!
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 52306
lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio
Posts: 10,804
Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
right-aligned image

Bingle drops everything, because Bingle is too lod to carry anything, and anyway who needs adventuring things when you are in a rocking chair, and your lap is full of yarn and needles, and your feet are on a tuffet, next to a crackling hearth? Bingle is comfortable, warm, and nudergournd. She's in a gnome burrow, and safe in the forest.

Age comes fast for Bingle, as it does. One second she is gargling salt and growing gills and webbed fingers and the next she is small and dry. The siren has plunged her into a bleak nightmare. No wizard hats, no monster pals, no hell ticket punched. Her father comes creaking into the room, robe rustling, fingers gnotted around a cane, and smiles pleasantly. She smells mushrooms and mice.

"Ah, my best girl," he says. "I love you more than anything else in the world. Certainly more than my safety and ancient promises my family may have made."

They are both lod now. She has caught him up, as gnome daughters do. He looks healthy though, and she feels fine. He crosses in front of her and tosses another log on the fire. Bongle comes, and hangs a kettle from a little hook on the side of the hearth, so it can heat for tea. Bongle asks Bingle nicely what kind of tea she should make.

"I'm so proud of you," says Bongle. "I'm glad you are here. If you were gone, I would miss you too much. I love you."

The siren has plunged her into a! bleak! nightmare! These people that she doesn't care about AT ALL! These emotions that are repulsive and smarmy and cloying! Her mother comes to sit in the rocking chair across from Bingle, pulls a knitting project from the basket, and begins to knit, both of their yarns tugging comfrotably from opposite ends of the same skein. Her mother says nothing, but her cheeks are pink and her eyes are bright. No sickness. Bongle takes the kettle away to steep the leaves in the pot, and father settles at his little desk in the corner and then Bongle comes back with the tray and they all have crumpets. Two old parents. Two old daughters. It's as if -- it's as if Bingle was never frozen in stone for 100 years! It's as if nothing ever happened! Stupid, boring trap! Horrible, stultifying life! Bingle wants to cry and rip! Send to Perpetu for an evacuation! To have missed all of it? To have never gone, to have never known? Torture!

What Bingle wants:
1. Young
2. Magic
3. Fix everything!

What Bingle does not want:
1. Love
2. Relatives
3. TO BE LOD!

The fire crackles. The tea turns golden.


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


ۜ\(ಠ_ಠ)/ۜ
 
__________________
Big Brother is watching you play RPGs.
👁️👁️👁️ 1984 by George Orwell 👁️👁️👁️
Enter the panopticon at the RPGX Book Club
Reply With Quote
  #126  
Old Feb 7th, 2024, 11:09 PM
AnotherDragoon's Avatar
AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon is online now
voracious Book-Eater
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 39599
AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon
Posts: 6,288
Jus' like a dream
right-aligned image

This were it, now that they was all back t'gether they had th' Hooded Mind. Falco dropped his moon sickle, it drifted t' the sand with a dim glow, an' his body went slack. He just hung there listless in th' blood-tainted wreckage. His aura o' healin' energy flickered away, back to th' weave, as his eyes glossed over like he were sufferin' from th' seaweed again.

Falco were back on th' deck o' th' Dusk Maiden an' she were movin' at speed across a choppy sea. The stars were jus' beginnin' t' twinkle in th' darkenin' sky overhead an' th' wind touseled 'is hair. All 'is friends was there. Gand laughed an' played songs while Fela an' Briony danced. Tempest, Greed, an' Ann was dancin' too. Bingle an' Banx were readin' poetry outta spellbooks t' Keledek who smiled an' smoked a hookah. Tumble wound up an' sent out a miniature menagerie o' clockwork animals t' accompany th' Bard. Mad Robin flitted around through it all with her discordant violin soundin' wings.

The scent o' Krag's earlier catch was startin' t' waft up from below. Falco breathed deep o' th' sea air an' felt at peace. Content. Gellan Primewater passed 'im an expensive lookin' bottle an' grabbed 'is shoulder, "Falco my boy, you've done it. I'm proud of you." Th' liquor tasted like spiced burnin' honey an' warmed his cheeks instantly. Bramble alighted beside him an' pulled 'im away from Gellan with a wicked grin, "Come on Captain, there's something in your quarters you should see."

Mechanics
Drink Counter: 0/3

 

 

 

 

__________________
He/Him
Want to see some Spelljamming? Join me and the other Astral Agents as jbear plots a course through Wildspace! roleINC on YouTube.
Reply With Quote
  #127  
Old Feb 8th, 2024, 01:11 AM
PlaidPeregrine's Avatar
PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine is online now
Story Harvester
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 32381
PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine
Posts: 7,449
Tempest, Siren
left-aligned image

"A Siren is a solitary creature. A predator by nature, she will indiscriminately kill; not for nourishment or actual physiological need. They are instinctively aggressive." from the diary of First Mate Barney Wolfeel of the Shining Harpoon whose skull is now a decoration sporting one emerald brooch eye in Tempest's bone garden.

A Mermaid was quite the opposite. Tempest thought about the Mermaids dragging along their injured or recently dead, tied to bonds that, to her, were foolish. Foolish, dumb Mermaids slowing themselves down to be killed or injured by a faster enemy. If they only LET GO of their friend or sister or family member, they had a chance to survive! Yet, they wept and wailed like widows who drowned themselves in the sea from grief refusing to see the sun of a new day. They swam, and swam hard - they desperately wanted to survive, yet they weighed themselves down. This did not make sense. We are all of the water. We are free.

Tempest's black-pupiled eyes met with Peisinoe's fear entwined with flattery. Why did she feel jealous that Fela would be honored by this Elder? To die by a Siren was, indeed, an honor…of sorts. It disturbed her, though, between her Siren's thirst to tear and shred, and her sacred teachings from her father that granted her the weave of rotting pain - that Peisinoe knew she was of two minds. She knew, and understood, and placed most everyone into this enchantment so they would eventually float vulnerable, belly up, mind bent around lying dreams. The Siren always admired her glorious mother's cunning and swift brutality. If those caught in the Fey Siren's trap were not her companions, surely she would feel admiration here as well.

But all Tempest felt was recognition, and a knowingness of what usually came next. Peisinoe was soon enough untangled from Fela and ripped her open as one would a tender white-bellied fish. She was playing her. Tempest's teeth were bared as she responded hastily in Aquaan, pulling her trident free. "Your Death!" And as the Hooded Mind snaked away, the young Siren brought her Hit with a dirty 20, 7 damagegleaming weapon around and thrust the trident at her, piercing her flesh, raking across scales. The scent of her death lingered in her wake. Her tail whipped around as she readied herself to give swift chase to destroy her once and for all, to stop the laughter, to show the mighty Peisinoe that she's a Siren, not a bubble-headed Mermaid who would die to carry their dead or injured.

But…everyone was floating there, with their eyes open without focus. Not-Dead. Fela….her life escaped into the brine. Yes. What does one expect when facing down a Siren? Maiden or Monster. "Dead and Not-Dead!" Yelling after the teasing swish of Peisinoe's tail was not useful. Tempest did not know how potent this enchantment was, as familiar as it felt. She could not leave Fela lifeless. It lacked….honor? It lacked…something. It felt … weird in her frothing state that did not feel as frothy-in-the-mouth as it should. The uncomfortableness caused her to place her hand against Fela's armor, above where her heart should be. Tempest called upon a healing weave to warm the paladin, to start her moving again, or at least to be in the stasis the others are in temporarily.

With a wave of her hand up at Banx, who she still felt was holding on like a true friend, this Siren tried to gesture quickly at the others with a thumb's up, kinda. Then she pointed to the tunnel and made a shoo-ing motion with the flat of her hand once her trident was re-slung on her back. There wasn't any time.

Tempest propelled herself toward the tunnel once Fela had the light return in her eyes. She flashed her sister-at-arms a toothy smile that did not reach her concerned gaze. There was no doubt this was Peisinoe's purposeful trail, possibly to her sanctuary-burrow, a trap, or lead to more tunnels that would lead to different out's. As she swam forward, her attention was not only forward, but she eyed the UP and felt for any changes in the scent or temperature of the water in case the tunnel split off into another escape route.

If Peisinoe was sighted, Tempest would cast Toll the Dead on her. If she did not find her or another tunnel within the thirty feet swim, she would simply continue on, using all of her senses to try to track Peisinoe like the natural huntress she was born to be.
Stat Block
 
Actions & Movement
 
__________________
Posting: Slowish. Stressed. Doing my best!
"Speak your mind even if your voice shakes." RBG

She/Her

Last edited by PlaidPeregrine; Feb 8th, 2024 at 08:47 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #128  
Old Feb 8th, 2024, 03:57 AM
ptwiddle's Avatar
ptwiddle ptwiddle is offline
Community Supporter
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 16th, 2024
RPXP: 7311
ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle
Posts: 795
Fela, free at last
"...and now all rise, as Fela Markwig takes her vow and ascends to lead our hallowed order."

Fela had almost drifted off. She'd risen in the dark of night, tossing with nerves instead of sleeping, had gone out to watch the sun rise over the sea that morning from the cliffs north of Templetome. The clouds that had flared crimson that morning and threatened to rain on her coronation had burned off, and now, just before noon (the speeches had been meticulously timed) the packed cathedral was stifling, especially this close to the stained glass windows blazing impressively bright thanks to a system of enormous mirrors. The weight of her ornate plate armor didn't help, either.

But she rises at her cue, climbs to the lectern, looks out over the crowd gathered to watch her claim her -- birthright, yes, but reward; young as she is nobody could claim she hadn't earned it. A sea of nobles she doesn't care a whit for. Members of her order, from Springers to Squires, she's pleased to see. And a scattered among the crowd a few faces, belonging here and not, that actually make her feel something...

But the pause has gone on too long. She looks down at the vow, back up at the crowd, Finn looking searching, encouraging, her father warm broad smile on his face but a hint of concern in his eyes. Eyes back down, then out over the crowd again. "I..." she meets eyes for just a second with her father and then slides back over to Finn. "I can't do this." Finn relaxes. Smiles. Fela wills herself to stare at him through the rising gasps and murmurs, daren't look at her father, or look for some other faces who she knows are out in the crowd somewhere. Just basking in Finn's usual look of freedom, feeling it wash over her, a warmth she needs even more than the sun. "This isn't the way for me to serve, isn't the.."

But the noise from the cathedral is growing, drowning her out. The heat and light radiating from the window behind her is fading, cooling. It's all too much, she closes her eyes, worrying she's going to faint. The air continues to grow cool, cold. The sound of the crowd modulates, a regular pulse forming from the shocked disapproval, until it's music. Frost forms on her armor, the kiss mark on her cheek aches in the freezing air, she feels dancing swirling around her...


And then silence. Emptiness. An unusual pressure, all around her. Wait, not complete silence...another pulse, not of a waltz but her own pulse, echoing in her stuffed up ears.

Fela opens her eyes, fearful of what she'll see, and just catches Tempest, swimming down into a tunnel.

Actions, etc.

 

Last edited by ptwiddle; Feb 8th, 2024 at 03:58 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #129  
Old Feb 8th, 2024, 02:50 PM
Fillyjonk's Avatar
Fillyjonk Fillyjonk is offline
#Bard4Life
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 44865
Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk
Posts: 12,347
Dreamers and Schemers
right-aligned image
Bingle, this vision lasts about twelve seconds. You don't have time to open the door, go down the hall, and see littel lod Banx playing dragon chess with---is that Pim? You don't have time to pop a head into the guestroom (since when has any gnome in your village had a guest room?) to ask Fela or Falco or Tempest or Mad or Ann or whoever is currently visiting if they want tea. You don't even have time to note the wrongness of the crackling fire in a place that cooks via cantrips or the underground hot spring. Fires or forbidden, as smoke rises, and stinks, and attracts attention.

This is not a vision of a before, of never-happened, of negation. This is a vicion of a future where you did set out on this adventure, and triumphed, and came home. There is no time for you to process this; you only have time to lose your temper, and then you come to and see Banx has you by the shoulders, shaking you, burble-hollering your name and having concerned eyebrows.

Silly Banx. Of course you are not dead. Why would you be? This may be the remains of a boat, but you didn't do anything insane like "stand up in it," now did you.

Falco, you are a roamer, that is certain, but you are also Hin, and Hin means Community. Frog Hollow was too small and uniform to contain you, but in your vision, you see a version of community that could work for you. This is not past or future, but a dream-now. Why can't all the ones you trust and love come with you all over the wide world?

left-aligned image
Does it occur to you, as your eyes uncloud, that all you dream of can happen if you settle in Saltmarsh? Welllll, not settle. You are not the settled kind. But you could have a home base, could you not? Saltmarsh is a port town, an rift-adjacent. The wide world is even wider if Saltmarsh is your home base. You could embed there, truly, and be happy.

Except for the part where hordes of undead Sahuagin will soon overrun it and raze it to the ground. Now that there is what Kieran called "a snafu."

Fela, you do go to the past. You lived that day. You have a temper, and your father says that you are too impulsive, but you had yourself in hand that day. Or he did. You did your duty, kneeling at noon. If this undoing is your heart's hopeful vision, perhaps that's why you took that bet and slept in the swamp. Such a risk, and nothing at stake but your pride.

As her claws give you to the frost and you sink down into deep cold darkness, you see another vision. You lie in the center of a wide white disk, dead, but you are so warm, so held. There are two women flanking you. One is a hot blaze and one a bright rising warmth. They have the same face, the same smile, the same loving gaze ---

You do not have time to take in more, or speak, or even blink, before Tempest's hand is on you, calling you back.

Tempest, she asked you a question: Beauty, are you your mother's monster, or your father's maiden?

right-aligned image
As she guts Fela and slithers away, you lash out a fast, three-pronged answer. Ah, she is so close to being over now. You see death, hovering around her like a red cloud. You breath it salty and fine through your greedy gills.

She disappears into the tunnel, and now, your answer changes. You cannot leave Fela, even in the company of these good friends. Banx, who has no monster in his veins, lets go of you and thrashes to Bingle; this is who and what he is.

You choose, though. You choose against your nature, and swim down to put a hand on your fallen comrade and knit her closed with the wild power of your god. Then you turn to follow Peisinoe, diving down into the tunnel, which twists away almost immediately. You go as fast as you can, as far as you can, and as you come around a bend, you see her, ten feet ahead, about to disappear behind another twist.

You toll the deep bell of your god, the bell that means her death. You know it. You feel the power in it ---this is enough to end her.

It does not. She puts a hand up and denies the sound with legendary will, and then she flutes to you in Aquaan: Elf-heart, the Fey do not forget, nor age, nor relent. I shall not forgive your soft land-hands on my Bubble Ship. Go back to your spawn-grounds and re-claim that hollow home. Deny all air, hold fast your tail, and in a century or three, when you have claws enough to face me alone---Ah then, come to me; we shall do the old dance, Beauty, the best dance, and only one of us will swim away.

Her muscular tail thrashes, propelling her out of sight. You give chase, haring after her, but now she has thirty feet on you, and you do not see her. The tunnel splits. Perhaps you choose a path, but this is the first of many branchings. She flees, furious because you are 100% going to rummage in her things, but she will not die to stop you. She is headed to her lair to bury herself in the sand. She might need to sleep there for a decade or two to herself to heal all that you did to her. But she will rise.

Tempe, let's play woulda-coulda-shoulda. You had her. You know it. If you had not paused to heal Fela, if you could have cast your thunderwave, she might well have died to you. But, no. Your father's voice was louder. You saved your friend, first; how proud he would be. As for your mother--- your mother---Oh, your monstrous mother.

You did not make her choice, you know this. If your mother was here, Fela's innards would be unspooling into the brine and the Mind would be a memory. But Tempe, your mother sees herself in every egg she ate over the centuries. You are the only egg she did not eat. In you, she sees him.

Did you lose your quarry, Siren? Or did you win some larger, older, stranger war?

OOC
 


__________________
Your book club attendance is not mandatory; all absences will be observed and noted by the ministry
✨🌟1984 by George Orwell🌟✨
Come learn what to think of this book and how to think it.

Last edited by Fillyjonk; Feb 8th, 2024 at 02:50 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #130  
Old Feb 9th, 2024, 11:26 PM
PlaidPeregrine's Avatar
PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine is online now
Story Harvester
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 32381
PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine PlaidPeregrine
Posts: 7,449
Tempest, Siren
left-aligned image

There are no regrets.
(Maybe a small one about the shiny copper tea kettle going to ungrateful Vorn…)

Sirens do not dwell on decisions they've made. They learn. They evolve. They keep a tidy vengeance list, and a tidier border that will assist in, well, keeping their territory orderly in their personal chaos.

Tempest did not think twice about it. Yes, she had her, and then the crown of gnarly fingers would be hers. Once she had returned to the ship, maybe she would have asked for everyone to weave thick threads around the bones once she had de-fleshed them to create the crown. They would all feast on Peisinoe's heart, one bite at a time. The glory! If it had happened that way. Fela needed a fighting chance with her guts inside of her. Oh, how she and Banx would have put up such the fight if the others did not come-to. Aerdrie Faenya surely would bless the paladin of her own accord at the shining might of her friend.

These thoughts possibly would float around Tempest's mind in the dark of the tunnels. She would think of glory, sailing, treasure, and a stray light ribbon of a thought would be of the Moon Princess. At this moment, when the mourning toll of the bell sounded and the Elder Siren did not fall, Tempest listened to her words. She wanted to take offense at being called Elf-heart and having soft hands. If the young Siren were to be true to herself, she would be well-aware that she lacked the edged appearance with thorny spikes, and extended, razor-sharp dagger-fingers that could caress the soft underbelly of a ray without harm, or rip open a paladin. This Siren was smooth, sleek and graceful with time spent on land - not too much time - that would be judgemental and even shaming. The time she spent, was the time she spent and it was as glorious as the wind that dried her hair and carried the stars slowly across the sky. No regrets.

Tempest held her head up high and responded with a simple. "Yes…"

In a couple or a few centuries, perhaps, her bloodthirsty mother and her beauty of a daughter would return to this one's territory and tear her apart. Or maybe Tempest would find territory elsewhere along the borders of home and be satisfied. It was not something to dwell on. In the here and now, Tempest survived. They, all of them, can go to 'Her' bubble ship and hunt for what they came here for - in peace. They would still have to move quickly. Sleeping here would still, in her mind, be very dangerous.

As Peisinoe escaped down the myriad of tunnels, and Tempest tried to catch her quarry with instincts that hungrily stalk, and a heart that wanted to return to her companions, she eventually turned at a split in the deeper darkness and knew her path to those she had accepted and trusted.

When Tempest appeared out of the last tunnel and appeared inside the wreck once again, she lingered there in front of the tunnel blocking it. It was important for her to take an accounting of each of the Ten Fang Fury, to see if they were out of the dream-state. Gesturing up towards the widened hole of the ship's hull, her arm made a shoo-ing motion, a forward motion. It was time to leave. After her lips curled into a thoughtful expression, the Siren then tried a thumb's up motion, then again pointed up at the hole. She did not look victorious, but she was not a bloody mess…and that in and of itself was truly a victory.

Falco was first out of the belly of the dark wreck, and Tempest was soon to offer a ride to anyone who wanted. The Siren didn't swim quickly, but daudled around, swimming lazy circles around the slower companions who lacked tails. Eventually, once they were inside the 'bubble ship' and Bingle was relaying messages, well, Tempest responded with, "She is not dead, but very injured. She will rest in her fury. In a few hundred years, I was invited to try again when I was clawful and a ravishing Siren. Now, I am pleased to find glory with the Ten Fang Fury and continue being a most magnificent clever-healing-protector-friend. We will be safe from her for now. We take what we want, then go."

As they swam down the stairs, Tempest made an unpleased expression, almost a scowl, at the turtle-of-fresh-water. Wrongful water. She let Bingle know how wrong this fount is as she glided around, eyes sharp for any baubles. When she reached the closed door to the southeast and floated there, swishing her tail lightly, she looked about for anything of interest.
Stat Block
 
Actions & Movement
 
__________________
Posting: Slowish. Stressed. Doing my best!
"Speak your mind even if your voice shakes." RBG

She/Her

Last edited by PlaidPeregrine; Feb 10th, 2024 at 11:59 AM. Reason: Added her going to bubbleship and messaging
Reply With Quote
  #131  
Old Feb 9th, 2024, 11:45 PM
AnotherDragoon's Avatar
AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon is online now
voracious Book-Eater
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 39599
AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon AnotherDragoon
Posts: 6,288
Flotsam
right-aligned image

When he regained his senses, Falco weren't sure how long that vision but he were still alive so it weren't too long, he did so with a renewed urgency. Maybe he were awake 'cause Tempest killed Peisinoe. After lookin' around he dove down after th' dropped moon sickle an' gave an exaggerated shrug t' th' others then pointed at th' tunnel th' Sirens had disappeared into.

Soon, Tempest emerged from th' dark tunnel alone an' that were that. Fela was swimming again an' he were hurtin' but ever'one were in full control o' themselves at least. Now they had th' time t' regroup an' find th' Dralion fortune an' th' Harp to play th' destined song. Falco swam up out of th' wreckage an' made 'is way slowly over to th' strange bubblin' ship. It were much harder goin' gettin' there as Hin but he'd be able t' take a closer look this way. Maybe th' harp were th' thing changin' th' salinity? Maybe that were jus' somethin' Hags did.

Falco waited fer ever'one t' be ready before heading into th' Emperor, mindful of th' traps an' glyphs. He knew they'd be going down through th' door Tempest opened when Fela weren't herself. He didn't know what they'd find but didn't expect it t' be a long-dead turtle turnin' th' seawater fresh. This had t' be th' place though.

Mechanics
Drink Counter: 0/3

 

 

 

 

__________________
He/Him
Want to see some Spelljamming? Join me and the other Astral Agents as jbear plots a course through Wildspace! roleINC on YouTube.
Reply With Quote
  #132  
Old Feb 10th, 2024, 07:43 AM
lostcheerio's Avatar
lostcheerio lostcheerio is offline
Swords, not words!
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 52306
lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio
Posts: 10,804
Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
right-aligned image

She wakes to Banx shaking her. She hugs his face off. So, it was a lie! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha HA HA! The water stops her from thumping him on the back and sides and arms and skull with the amount of vigor that her wave of hot relief requires. The siren was wrong! Bingle is smart enough to know:

1. She will never stop being an adventurer.
2. When she dies, probably from a big monster, she will go straight to hell and be a princess and troture people or something.
3. The village is stupid.

It wasn't even her village. Because they never would have had a fire because they're too scraed. Dumb siren! Ineffectually tricking very! great! wizards!

The siren flees. Tempest emerges bloody but victorious from the tunnel, and Bingle waves swishily and happily and gives two thumbs up. GOOD JOB NOT DYING. Tempest motions them back to the bubble ship where Harlan is already cantering around with some big crab. Bingle has already seen through crabby eyestalks the strange skull symbol set up on the floor, the mystical turtle spitting out fresh water. She wants the harp from the destiny, and to find the Drallion's treasure so that little baby Drallion can get some real clothes and not go to the Saltmarsh playgroups wearing a onesie from a bar.

She sends a barrage of excited messages to everyone, relaying what Harlan has been seeing, and she swims back to the ship, her hand clamped around Banx's wrist like a vise. Bingle's altered self is gone, so they swim slow, but it doesn't matter. At least she's not in some idiotic chair tying knots in string. When they get into the ship they go straight down the stairs, pausing to give the hiding crab a side-eye, and through the undone glyph, into the turtle room, and then examining for traps, glyphs, and locks, before they go forward on the ship on this turtle level!

ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


ۜ\(ಠ_ಠ)/ۜ
 
__________________
Big Brother is watching you play RPGs.
👁️👁️👁️ 1984 by George Orwell 👁️👁️👁️
Enter the panopticon at the RPGX Book Club

Last edited by lostcheerio; Feb 10th, 2024 at 07:45 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #133  
Old Feb 10th, 2024, 09:01 AM
ptwiddle's Avatar
ptwiddle ptwiddle is offline
Community Supporter
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 16th, 2024
RPXP: 7311
ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle ptwiddle
Posts: 795
Fela, refusing to face the obvious
Fela wakes groggy from the three dreams: turning down Duty there before her father and everyone, sinking into the cold of the drift, and lying dead but warmed by twins. What did they mean -- and beyond that, who were they from, could she trust them? Which parts were her, or maybe Saliber, and which parts Peisinoe, or even Nexa? She feels shame -- all visions seemed a turn away from Saliber, who had given her so much, who was so Right and True and Good. It would be so easy to pin that aspect on Peisinoe, trying to drive a wedge between them, but she could tell it wasn't fully true.

Tempest returned from the hole, and Fela remembers with another crashing wave of shame that they'd just been fighting Peisinoe, that she had escaped and Tempest had chased her, while Fela had been having visions and floating guiltily wrestling with their implications. But Tempest is calm, serene -- she must have finished Peisinoe. Fela relaxes again, takes a moment to run her hands over her wounds, conjure forth the comforting warmth of Saliber to stitch them up (somewhat -- she was more battered than she had energy to fix), but more than that to feel closer to the god she was feeling far from, to chase away the cold of the Drift that lingered from her vision, get another taste of how sweet it felt to lie there on the disk, warm and loved.

But then Tempest is waving them out, Falco leading the way back to the Emperor, Bingle messaging back and forth. Fela first swims towards Tempest, away from the direction she's indicating, to smile hugely in her face, clasp in her huge hug, strong as befitting a warrior's victory, but with a lingering tenderness that she hoped conveyed sorry.

Gathering her sword and shield back and following along to the ship, Fela's thrilled to be able to reply to Bingle -- Sorry she got into my head. She was scared of the traps on the ship, she was trying to use us to clear them out, we need to be very careful. And she knew Briony and the other ship was nearby, we need to hurry -- she may be dead (or not), but she might have other things around that would be dangerous to them. As soon as they were done search the ship she was going to swim to the surface and use the dragonfly to get back to Briony as soon as possible...

In the pauses as Bingle spoke to the others, her mind goes back to the last of the visions, sandwiched between the two women, one hot one warm, Innovation and Briony? Of course they were Saliber and Marisal. Of course, who else could they be? But it was too easy, she was too guilty -- it could have been part of Peisinoe's curse. Tempest had healed her with her magic -- it could have been her god. There was something in the vision she didn't want to face, and she was looking for a way out.

At the ship, she sees Bingle and Falco get fascinated by different mystical elements there, but doesn't get as drawn in herself, approvingly follows Banx's lead, scanning carefully for danger, reiterating the need for caution at every opportunity Bingle gives her. Peisinoe had nearly killed them all, and if she had been cautious of this place, then Fela certainly wasn't going to take anything for granted.

Actions, etc.
Lay on Hands on herself for a lowly 6 points -- keeping two just in case someone goes down to a trap.

On the way over, a quick religion check on the vision with the two gods
Dice religion -- vision:
d20+3 (1)+3 Total = 4


In the ship, Fela will roll investigation, mostly looking closely and slowly for where the glyphs are and what other traps there might be.
Dice Investigation in ship -- mostly danger?:
d20 19


 
Reply With Quote
  #134  
Old Feb 11th, 2024, 07:19 PM
Fillyjonk's Avatar
Fillyjonk Fillyjonk is offline
#Bard4Life
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 44865
Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk Fillyjonk
Posts: 12,347
THE BUBBLE SHIP!
left-aligned image
No regrets, Tempest. You emerge from the tunnel sure of yourself, sure of your choices. You are your mother's savage daughter, and you and she will surely come back when you are ready. Together. This thing Peisinoe kept saying, that you are an orphan, that you should go lay claim to your mother's empty territory --- surely these were only mind games played by a known mind-gamer? Just empty taunts. Surely...

You are also the beloved cleric of a good (if wild) goddess, and you have more insight than your average monster. As you go back to the ship, disdaining the fresh water, it occurs to you that the Hooded Mind allowed this enchantment for days and days, even as it killed her fish and mutated her crabs. She could have smashed into the ship and ended it, and the fact that she did not is telling. Whatever the ship is hiding---This Fey-born creature must want it quite badly.

Falco, you also thrash your slow, finless way back to the King Unafloat, and you are also a person of considerable wisdom, especially when it comes to nature magic. And this is nature magic, albeit twisted and vile, as is anything a Hag touches. Feydark nature magic, , but yeah, the Fey are up to their sugar-scented armpits in this nonsense. WHo sent you after this ship in the first place. Lily Market Feyborns. Who killed the crew and took the ship. A Feyborn Bheur Hag. Who preserved it, seeking a gentle way in through the glyphs? A Feyborn Siren.

Oddly enough, the enchantment is not actually doing anything directly to the water. Rather, the bones and the burbling turtle create a perfectly circular globe of warding around the entire boat. The ward has one purpose, and one purpose only: to keep out salt. Better hope the Hag invested in Mrs. Dash, because not even a sprinkle of table salt can cross...

Fela, you can't make any more sense of the vision. It was so brief. Still, it was intense. Briony, you know, follows Marisol. Perhaps she can make sense of it? There is a cheery thought! Meet up in the crow's nest when you are back safe aboard, and sit close because of the wind, and whisper back and forth about religion...

On the way over, you see a faint glimmer of magic on the hull itself. The lower part, anyway. Some kind of warding magic there. Looking at the wrecked hole, it is obvious the Siren saw this ward, too, and did not breach the hole down low, even though that is the most effective way to sink a ship. No, she put hole up high, above this warding, and then swamped the ship.

Inside, all the traps you can find are on the level where you found the crabs, and all (like the warding on the outer hull) are designed to keep people out of the lower deck where the turtle sand bones and the closed room are. Oh wait, there goes Bingle. The formerly closed room then...

Bingle Banx gives you a calm nod once he sees your eyes have rolled back around to face forward. He flails along by you in his billowing evil robe. Here is a true fact of oceans: They are bad for knitwear. You feel waterlogged and heavy as you thrash forward. Once in, you side-eye a plant. The shamed Many Moltings does not emerge from it.

Most Molts strains his eyestalks out at the party's invasion, and blusters to Halran:

Your friends perhaps hope I will flee.
Small brother, do you see me flinching?
No violence---unless they come at me,
and then they'll get a righteous pinching!


He clacks and postures, anxious, but very very interested in the door. Bingle, you see no glyphs or wards or traps down here, so in you go. Here is a room wildly overgrown with fey plants, and the cool, fresh water is full of the wonderful bubbles. Most Molts goes right to the source and hovers in them, looking like he is boiling, but very very pleased.

The source is a pool. A round, burbling weird pool, bright glorious fecund green. It bulges out fo the ship in a way that is not possible, and yet it is happening. This is nto a roft. This is some sort of container, but permeable. Bubbles and swirls of bright and lively color swirl out from it. In it -- if it can be said to have an inside --- three flecks of lively wild green bubble and froth and revolve around each other. Most Molts basks, delighted.

Falco, you have seen a fleck like this before. It was caught in the claw of an undead bear. This is the same.

OOCIf Falco explains the turtle/bone function, everyone but Tempest can roll history.

You do not see a box or a harp but the plant life is NUTS. You would need to search to find anything.,






====
__________________
Your book club attendance is not mandatory; all absences will be observed and noted by the ministry
✨🌟1984 by George Orwell🌟✨
Come learn what to think of this book and how to think it.
Reply With Quote
  #135  
Old Feb 11th, 2024, 08:42 PM
lostcheerio's Avatar
lostcheerio lostcheerio is offline
Swords, not words!
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Apr 18th, 2024
RPXP: 52306
lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio lostcheerio
Posts: 10,804
Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
right-aligned image
You have to let magically inflated crabs bob around on fey bubbles if they want to. You just have to. It would be crazy, of course, for a normal person to bob around on the fey bubbles. But crabs, well, they are stupidly impulsive and they just will experiment. Bingle gives Banx a bit of an eye. She kind of hmms and eyebrows. What would happen if, for example, a person with gnome physiology, any gnome, any random gnome, were to bob around as this enormous crab does? Now, Bingle doesn't want to be big. She doesn't want to do anything. Except touch it.

She gets Harlan to ask Most Molts:

How long has it been here bubbling on?
How many lights and how many darks?
Don't think of pinching, we're clinching a deal
Don't think of weeping, they're keeping it real
They want you to stay when they're all gone
To protect this place from the whelks and the sharks


Of course, they can't leave it here. Can't leave this fey magic in the sea, pumping out the power to make undead bears and kobolds, and swell crabs to ten times their size. Wow, she really wants to touch it with her hands. Bingle considers taking a big breath of the bubbles. Just one. It hasn't killed the crab. It hasn't even made him sick! She looks at Banx. Is he thinking the same? Could it give them powers? Could it cure disease? If someone knew someone who had an ailment that a cleric couldn't fix, would it fix them? Would it bring someone back from the dead, not in a terrible way like that pool of sickness in the lizard lair, but something good? She wants to touch it.

Look at the plants. They're going crazy. More than fine! Bingle messages furiously, sending half-formed thoughts and bits of phrases whirling around the space between them all underwater. Communicating for them to each other, inserting her own little should we? and who's got a bottle? and can we get it into a bag? and how are we getting it out of here? and such. Meanwhile she will swim slowly around the room, searching and seeking. Opening up large leaves, feeling under roots and branches. She casts her fireflies into the corners and tries to unlock all the secrets here. And thinking, thinking, thinking, what harm could it do? She wants to touch it with her hands. Well, doesn't she have to? Doesn't she have to touch, if she's going to Identify it? She is a wizrad! With a peral! She has to! After listening carefully to everyone's thoughts and exchanging many meaningful looks with Banx, she plunges her hands into the pool.


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


ۜ\(ಠ_ಠ)/ۜ
 
__________________
Big Brother is watching you play RPGs.
👁️👁️👁️ 1984 by George Orwell 👁️👁️👁️
Enter the panopticon at the RPGX Book Club
Reply With Quote
Reply

Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off



All times are GMT -4. The time now is 12:29 PM.
Skin by Birched, making use of original art by paiute.(© 2009-2012)


RPG Crossing, Copyright ©2003 - 2024, RPG Crossing Inc; powered by vBulletin, Copyright ©2000 - 2024, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd. Template-Modifications by TMB