Game Thread Chapter II: The Raider's Camp - Page 8 - RPG Crossing
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  #106  
Old Mar 18th, 2018, 02:47 AM
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Sora
Female Air Genasi Monk

 


This is certainly not the position that Sora thought she would be in when they returned to Greenest. She is a newcomer to the group herself, yet here is another person talking to her as though she is in some position of authority. Not that she could blame him. After all, it was she who spoke out of turn regarding the future of the group. Luckily, none of the others seemed to mind, if they even noticed.

"Greetings, Hdane. A very interesting name, although everyone's name here sounds so exotic. My name is Sora. I have travelled from the land of Wa on a quest, although I do not know what it is that I must do."

She gives the man a smile before turning toward the governor. "Sir, I thought that the half-dragon my companions sought vengeance against leads the cult. Have you found evidence that suggests that another is truly in charge? We saw a tent, larger than the others, while infiltrating their camp the last time. We assumed that it belonged to the half-dragon. If there is another, more powerful entity leading them, I would be loathe to meet them. The half-dragon seems terrifying enough, from the accounts that I have heard."

  #107  
Old Mar 21st, 2018, 01:12 PM
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A Glad and Distant LandHis passing goes unnoticed by most, even his companions. Out of town, the warmth grows and grows, though the night air is crisp, especially for summer. It feels as though he is walking into a grove, the sun high and the sky clear, and yet it is now in the depths of night. There is nothing to compare it to, really, nothing Gukan could explain, to his own kind, to his companions, to explain this.
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a paradox given form and figure and sense


And indeed, he comes to the edge of a grove, where there can be heard pipes, high and calling, and a chorus of what sounds like glorious voices raising up. Stringed instruments, made of cattails and flutes made of air, played by players never yet seen in this world or any other realm. Indeed, they do not hail from this realm. It is as if a portal to somewhere else, the fair lands, Faerie, the Feywilds, has been opened. And perhaps this is a dream, but the Pretty Lady is always a good dream.

Her procession is such as to be regal, yet playful, joyous. Her handmaidens are colored in oranges and greens and yellows and all manner of natural thing, their garlands made of living things—still living, and glad things, too. They are all regal, their cheeks high, their skin always perfect—perfect ebony, perfect pale, perfect everything. No blemishes, no signs of age: eternal beauty. It is a bright and glad thing. Gukan has not felt so warm in his many months of traveling, even when he has done well.

At the grove's edge is a stump, somehow made alive again, perhaps by the power of the one who sat in it. Reclinging with her leg crossed, she is effortless in her grace, and seems imposing even to Gukan: not a hard thing among his own people, but out here, Clawmarked is huge. She is pale, with pointed ears like Vixverax—Pointy Ears indeed—with yellow eyes that do not seem to look anywhere at once, yet look everywhere. Her dress is like ink, alive and moving all over her body, yet is ever modest, yet ever enticing. She is many things: she is all things, all at once, a paradox given form and figure and sense.

She is the Summer Queen, the Lady Titania.

"Your heart is troubled, sweet Gukan." Her voice is not unlike a shout, yet is a whisper, and ever gentle. Everyone hears it; the playing does not stop, yet it is never loud enough to wipe out her perfectly formed words. At her ears, her crown seems to be made of two crows, yet unlike any he has seen: they have blue gems embedded in them, and seem to move as if uncertain what form they should be taking. They look at Gukan, and smile. Birds do not smile. "Come, sit with me, and tell me of your troubles. I will grant you knowing and my favor."

She extends her hand, and two of her handmaidens—or are they men?—step aside, a stump growing out of nothing, with plants of so many varieties appearing from nowhere, growing out of them and offering his tall back support. Despite sitting up, he would still sit beneath her.

He would never imagine doing otherwise. The Summer Queen is capricious. And she knows: yet she demands he tell her things. Things she already knows. Strange, how archfey work.

Last edited by Sassafrass; Mar 21st, 2018 at 04:09 PM.
  #108  
Old Mar 21st, 2018, 03:40 PM
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Visverax
Male High Elf Wizard
 


"Go back? Are you daft?" Visverax exclaimed indignantly to both Sora and the Governor. The scowl on his face was extra scowlish. The Governor was clearly beguiled by the evil house cat and could not be trusted. But, he expected more from the gensai. She had shared his apocalyptic dream of the future. How could they stop the vision from coming true if they threw their lives away of some foolhardy scouting mission.

"We just barely escaped from there! Going back would be sheer folly! They will be all over us," the wizard continued his tirade. Someone had to be the voice of reason around here. "There are a hundred cultist compared to five," He looked over to the mercenary who had just volunteered. "… no, six of us. It’s suicidal."

He looked over at Dane speculatively. Visverax had low regard for humans. At one moment they were mere babes and the next, toothless graybeards. They barely lived long enough to notice. Evendur was a prime example. Visverax had let his guard down with that one and it ended in tears. He wouldn’t let that happen again. The man had said his name, but the elf had already forgotten it. Let someone else be responsible for spelling it right on his tombstone.

Others in the room looked over at the mage aroused by his outburst, Rhokax among them. The dragonborn had spoken of obtaining retribution over the loss of his company. Visverax understood the need for vengeance. His clouded judgement had driven him to travel to the cultist camp in the first place. But now his mind was clear. Evendur was gone. Destroying those responsible would not bring the man back to life. Now Barney was gone as well. How many more needed to die to achieve a small bit of satisfaction. The wizard wanted no part of it.

But Talyn gave him a sad, knowing look. The strangely beautiful dwarf knew him best. She knew that if the others went, he would go too. He turned on her defiantly, ready to blast her with verbal abuse. But, for once, the words caught in his throat. He knew his excuses were hollow. The cult needed to be stopped. And their group were the ones to do it. Red faced, the wizard growled and stalked out of the room. At the doorway, he turned and shouted, "Irrational Imbeciles!" before leaving the building entirely.

Outside, Visverax was glad to see that Gukan was nowhere in sight. He was in no mood to deal with that giant idiot at the moment. He needed something to do to calm his mind. Off in the distance, he saw the temple whose window he had helped repair. But he was in no mood for prayer. Nearby was the courtyard where Evendur was killed. Visverax was in no state to deal with that now. He wandered off in the opposite direction. Finding a tree, the elf slumped down at the trunk and stared off into space. He thought of his parents and his home and wondered if he ever would see them again.
  #109  
Old Mar 21st, 2018, 09:54 PM
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Gukan "Clawmarked" Titaniadaoro
The Wandering Goliath

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SSDC SAB L1 L2 L3 L4
12 +4 2/2 2/2 0/0 0/0



Music filled him, lilting through his thoughts and caressing his tense form. He had been prepared, yet still stood in awe of the Summer Queen's undeniable grace. Nothing in his life had struck him so, and in his soul of souls, he knew nothing ever would be quite like the Lady's elegance. Having sipped from this gilded cup of beauty, Clawmarked could no longer be certain he was in his own realm, although he knew he was very, very far from home.

Seated on the offered blooming cathedra, the Goliath felt the most articulate he had ever felt. His words wanted to spill out in a torrent of confused emotion. His muscles wanted to spring forth and embrace all things around him, especially so, the Pretty Lady. Despite his rapture, Gukan knew to exercise his self control...that same control that kept him from turning back to the Cultist camp and starting a full on war.

The Lady had spoken, and she waited patiently. Gukan felt a surprising feeling that he only vaguely remembered as embarrassment. He swallowed hard, and heard his own voice, normally deep and strong, as a breathy, foreign sound escaping his lungs.

"Lady Titiana," her name alone was a prayer on his clumsy lips, "I am grateful for your gifts in ways I cannot describe." The words came out slow, deliberately chosen with considerable effort by Gukan, as though he was strangely able to recall and use words others had said around him. He would question this later, but for the moment, this new mental freedom was allowing him, for the first time, to express himself in a capacity not normally accessible to him. He could not fail his Lady's desires. He would not.

"I have fear. Great fear, worse than the moment you first found me, flesh rent from a bear's claw. My fear was great then, but your bestowal had me return stronger, and with a new name as a badge of my strength. Strong, though I am, I still fear. Even is this moment of lucidity granted by your presence, the fear creeps, obstructing my efforts to think...rationally. The fear begs, tempting my anger that our friend is missing, that another is lost forever, that the group is lost in the darkness of frustration, that we feel powerless against a force that seems to be growing larger the closer we get to it."

Gukan paused, catching his breath. His head felt light and airy, swimming in Lady Titania's call.

"Your guidance would be eternally cherished, Lady Titania. I ask, humbly before you, what do I do to help my friends? To protect those dear to me? To break this Cult threat so all may rest in peace?"
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Last edited by benchly; Mar 22nd, 2018 at 06:13 AM.
  #110  
Old Mar 26th, 2018, 06:07 PM
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Rhokax Soulreader
Male Dragonborn (Silver) War Cleric

 



The dragonborn’s eyes furrowed at the introduction of Dane to the group. There was something that tugged at his memory, but then the elf, Visverax started going on about a black cat and Rhokax became distracted. Bringing his attention back to Dane, Rhokax stepped forward, slightly looming over the human male, "Where have you served Dane? You don’t look like a local of Greenest, and your gait suggests some training… even if your boast proves to be hollow."

The Dragonborn cleric was seeing vipers in the tall grass. Could be this newcomer was honest, truthful, and just. However, it could be that the raiders not only resorted to frontal assaults, but duplicitous actions as well.

Finally turning his attention to the Governor as the man addresses him, "Any aid I can provide to take the dishonorable snakes out, you have it, Sir." Rhokax issues a salute, slamming a clawed hand against his chest and bowing deeply.

Rhokax watched as the elven wizard left the premises, let out a sigh and turned to the Governor, "It is not easy when one loses companions and friends… but sometimes there are battles that are bigger and require more from us simple beings than our feelings will allow. How shall we begin this coordinated effort? The camp is now fully aware of our presence, and they will mobilize to strike a retributive blow for our reckless defiance at their camp."
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  #111  
Old Mar 28th, 2018, 02:09 AM
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Bannerless Dane
Male Human Rogue
 


"Lost someone too... acourse they did." the mercenary whispered, unfortunately used to such things. Even more as of late. It made sense now as to why many of the returning heroes weren't cheering a flock of steins and regaling the people with their tale. As the largest of their order made his way for the exit, Dane made sure not to pry too hard on the goliath's back as he left. Nor did he question the earlier outburst of the white-haired elf.

With the introduction of Sora, a wry smile peeked on his face. It would seem that the outset wouldn't be too dower and a joke could be made in the darkness. "'s just Dane..." he responded as she continued. Her short tale reminding him of his own wanderlust, though much more extreme. "Traveled all the way from the far east on an unknown? Sora, I think I like you."

His ear was to the conversation with the governor as it continued, joining it fluidly as Sora directed to it. His fluidity it switching was not the same in serving however. Context being what it was, Dane had nothing he could give to aid them. In the raid on Greenest, the mercenary had been far from the action, knowing heroism wasn't his blood right. He had a good reason for that too: the weight that held their elven ally down.

"Hm?" Turning to Rhokax as he loomed, the second of their group that could tower over him. It was slightly emasculating how tall some folks got. He spoke of his training however, and Dane was certainly not shy to tell. "Scouted for the Flaming Fists for, oh... lets say a long time of my life. Longest any could keep me at least. Other than them a couple get lost in the trees, but I'd say I've learned from all the best companies in'a east of Faerűn. I keep a knife in my boot if that's what you're asking." His final words were laced deeply in a smug satisfaction, especially as he clicked his heels together. "Two in fact."

The weight dropped heavily from Visverax as he stormed away, something that was likely from the start. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts as Rhokax walked the conversation forward, the new arrival started to pull it back for a second; addressing the others beside him. "I don't think he'd much like me to go check up on him what with how he was staring. So I'm probably not the one for the job, but... one'a you?"

Last edited by Maskain; Mar 31st, 2018 at 04:36 AM.
  #112  
Old Apr 4th, 2018, 01:52 PM
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The Summer Queen's GraceThe court's dancing continues as if Gukan is not there; that is the way of the Fair Folk, he supposes, those Visverax does not act that way. There is something different about Elves, about Gnomes, though: they act so different from this. Sometimes his Lady acts like an Elf; sometimes she acts like a Satyr. It just depends on her mood, and her mood here is regal, lounging. Around her dance satyrs and nymphs and dryads and all manner of things that have no names, yet dance they do. Their faces change, contorting into inhuman shapes, some of them not even truly full shapes: it is as if their flesh is malleable to whim and thought, pure emotion running wild. it threatens to infect the Goliath, who must keep his pose or else lose all face.
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... their flesh is malleable to whim and thought...


She smiles, though thinly, at his admittance. That he is scared, fearful of what he has lost, of what he has found: that the world is in a new dark era and if they do not act, it will only get worse. Her smile is almost mocking of that, as if she does not fully understand what a smile is. That does not negate the sincerity of it: she is very sincere, concerned, and listening. Everything about her is warm.

"Do not let your heart be troubled by this revelation, dear one: for it is known to me. What I have given you is all you need to reach your intended ends, and my will be done. My gifts are not given in vain." She stands, moving towards him, and puts her hands on his face. "An emotion is a face we wear to hide what is truly us. We of the Fair Folk of the Feywilds, we are emotion given form: fear is one of those emotions. Though it belongs to the court of my sister, the Unseelie do not keep it to themselves. For a satyr being hunted by redcaps feels fear, becomes fear. What we become in light of our emotions is a face of our own making, Clawmarked. I bestowed my name upon you not for what you might become, but what you were, and what you are." Leaning down, she plants a kiss on his forehead.

It feels like springwater, tickling down.

"You face something larger than you can comprehend. You face extinction and a terrible age. Your world, the world of Toril, of Overlord Ao, faces a threat the likes of which it has known only in the distant past, and in light of the god-heroes of that age, you will stand instead. You and your companions: it is imperative that you seek out these foolhardy slavenly petty folk and you discover their plans and mechanisms. Only then can the Chromatic Dragon be stopped in this world: for now. Know this, Gukan: threats can be delayed, but ultimately, evil will survive, and it will thrive. Good and evil are two sides of a spectrum, but good will not always triumph." Letting him go, the scene behind her begins to fade, as if were only mists. She takes her seat again, sitting on the stump.

Until only she remains, an illumination quickly fading in the depths of the dark night, the storm coming from the south still coming hard.

"Go to the hatchery, Gukan Clawmarked. Discover what they will not show until their hands are full of the weapons they would rend the world in twine with. Parley. Prepare yourself, steel your friends and give steel to your foes. Make peace where you can, for enemies of enemies are not allies, but can be useful against the friend of your foe. And do not forget to whom you serve, and who grants you boon. I am with you, for you belong to me."

And just like that, she is gone. It feels as if a dream. A warm and pleasant dream.

The first pitter-pattering of rain batters him and the leaves. He needs to return to the town, before the warmth in his heart fades.
RequestsThe war meeting, if it can be called that, becomes somewhat heightened as more questions are asked.

Leosin steps forward to answer one of the questions, Sora's aimed at the Governor. "Indeed, the one you call Langdedrosa Cyanwrath, I believe, is the third in line at that particular camp. They've been raiding the areas north of Amn for months, hitting smaller targets and recruiting all the while, both mercenary and Kobold, to their order. Above him is the woman in purple, Frulam Mondath." Visverax instantly recalls her, on the night that Evendur died: the woman that Cyanwrath marched with. "She is a wearer of the purple, and would normally be in charge, but as I understand it, one of the Speakers is there with them now. Rezmir, the Black, is a Half-Dragon of that same lineage of Black Dragon. She is one of the leaders of this latest incarnation of the Cult of the Dragon, though she is the only one I know of for certain. She joined the group just before the raid on Greenest, I learned while I infiltrated the group, and while I saw her, I did not interact with her directly. Frulam is the one in charge." He almost winces at the thought, his wounds still visible: he is injured, heavily so.

The introduction of Dane gives rise to a new level of inquiry, one related to his own prospects, and as he introduces himself, his comment to Sora leaves Leosin's jaw a little firmer, clenched at something. Dane seems to get on well with the others, mentioning his former allegiance to the Flaming Fist, whom most souls know about. Well, not Gukan, but—say, where is Gukan, anyway?

Leosin, sighing at Visverax's dislike of going, speaks up for the Governor as well, who was about to answer after Rhokax's comment. "It would be a personal favor. For me, anyway, to find out what's in that cave. There's something else going on there, and plus, we need to know their plans. This isn't just a threat to the Sword Coast, I fear. Normally the Cult of the Dragon is obsessed with dracoliches, that is, sentient dragon skeletons whose souls are maintained by dark magic. This is... this is different. That dragon that came over and attacked Greenest? That wasn't a dracolich." Approaching Visverax, he sighs. "I hate... I hate to ask this of you. It does seem like suicide. But so was me heading into that camp, and here I am. You know your Dragon lore. You'll need more if we're to face this threat. I can help you. I can get you into Candlekeep, can get you anywhere you need to go and get whatever information you think you need."

The Governor, clearing his throat, finally speaks up. "At any rate, I'll not ask you to give me an answer tonight. Discuss it among yourself, and let me know who you decide to bring. As for me, I've had a busy day and need to rest before my head explodes; these wounds aren't going to heal themselves." He nods to Dane, to Khorax, and to the ones he already knows. "Barnabas will be in my prayers tonight. Let me know in the morning what your plans are." Heading elsewhere, he does not bring the cat with him, which remains defiant throughout.

Leosin, moving from Visverax and that conversation, comes to Sora. "If my readings are right, you're element-touched, right? What they call a Genasi in the planar records? I've only seen a few of the fire-touched, but you seem a kinder, gentler thing. And your skill: I've seen most of the martial arts of Faerun, but not yours. And by your accent you're not from here. Where are you from? If you don't mind me asking, that is." A forward set of questions, but it's not the first time she's been asked that this day. Or this lifetime.

Rain begins to fall outside: the storm has caught them at last. The night will be long, and tomorrow does not bring good tidings.
  #113  
Old Apr 4th, 2018, 03:12 PM
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With the governor having left them for the night, the black cat which had been courting the man's ankles was forced to find a new target; Leosin was the first choice, the cat seeming to sense that he was injured, though it was hard to say precisely how. Perhaps there was some indication in his voice as he answered questions and provided what information he had.

Almost as if in direct spite of the elf's clear dislike of it, the black cat hopped up on an empty chair and made itself a fixture in the room, idly beginning to wash itself. The conversation flowed around and above it, only truly angry or loud utterances making it look up to determine its continued safety in the spot it had chosen. The patter of raindrops makes one ear flick back and forth, both ears more laid back with the sound of water so close. Little really bothered cats but a good soaking or canine troublemakers.

Since the discussion seemed to stall in the wake of Visverax's outburst, even as Leosin turned probing questions on Sora, the cat raised its head and yawned, giving the room a good view of sharp, white fangs and a very pink tongue. It looked around, seeming to reestablish what was going on in the room, before it jumped down, wandered over to Sora, and headbutted her leg. A rather demanding mew asked for her attention, but the cat turned and walked away, back to the chair it had sat in moments before. As it leapt up, it's form blurred, growing considerably until a tall human man sat in the chair, considering them all with eyes the same amber yellow as the cat's had been. "Pardon my intrusion," he said softly, not really needing to speak up in the moment right after his transformation. "You seem to have need of someone who can enter this raiders' camp unnoticed. As I need to know what they are up to also, I would offer to join you."
  #114  
Old Apr 4th, 2018, 09:01 PM
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Gukan "Clawmarked" Titaniadaoro
The Wandering Goliath

ClassHP/MAXACSPPP
Warlock17/1712309
SSDC SAB L1 L2 L3 L4
12 +4 2/2 2/2 0/0 0/0




The raindrops felt cool on Clawmarked's rough skin, creating an instant feeling of refreshment against the warmth that still hummed in his veins. His head drifted back, showing his face to the sky and allowing the rain to run down the contours of his cheeks and heavy brow. There were tears mixed in there somewhere, he was sure of it. A smile crept to his lips and he let the tears flow. Clawmarked belonged to Lady Titania, an instrument of her will, and nothing could feel more right.

A pulsing sense of urgency only allowed his fading revelry a few tender moments in the first breaths of the storm. The winds would be upon him soon, along with whatever may be blowing in them. He knew he had to return to town, and tell the others of his Lady's words. A hatchery, it seems. was to be their goal. Clawmarked had known them only for beast tamers in his youth, but they had been small creatures, hawks and such that could aide the hunters of the tribe. A pang of nostalgia tickled his mind, but he ignored it. That place...those memories...they were no longer his home. His feet were already carrying him back to town as the storm loomed closer. He gripped his crystal as he ran, feeling her with him.

The keep was as he'd left it, and he found the meeting room in a sudden hush as though some dramatic event had just transpired. Looking about, he noticed the Governor had left with his cat, which was a little disappointing. Clawmarked had wanted to pet it, and possibly name it. No, he thought to himself, stay on task. The Lady's guidance cannot go to waste!

"Hatchery!" Clawmarked all but blurted out the word. His excitement swelled, driven by his duty to his patron. Every nerve wanted to depart at once, smashing through any gates or walls that barred his way, and make good on his promise to Lady Titania. Yet, he know he could not do it without his friends. They needed each other if they were to stop this threat. He took a breath in through his nose and let it linger the merest of moments. His mind remained clear...for now. "We must go. Find a way in. Find the hatchery. Only WE can stand in the storm that is to come."

He set his jaw as he surveyed the group, new and old alike, waiting for their response.


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Last edited by benchly; Apr 4th, 2018 at 09:14 PM.
  #115  
Old Apr 6th, 2018, 04:03 PM
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Visverax does a one-eighty

Visverax
Male High Elf Wizard
 


Outside the rain began to fall. Visverax glared up to the sky in contempt, but the sky failed to notice. He had no desire to get soaked while he was sulking. The mage begrudgingly returned to the keep. Inside, he lurked against the wall. A memory of a long ago formal dance came to mind with Visverax being the perpetual wallflower. No one wanted to dance with him in those days. This meeting seemed like a dance of sorts as well. Each speaker danced around the truth that only he had dared to utter, that this mission was a suicidal folly.

But unlike his long-ago dance, here he had a suitor in the form of Leosin. The former prisoner tried to cajole him with talk of dracoliches and the archives of Candledeep. As if he were so petty to fall for…

"Candledeep? You can really get me into the archives?" he blurted out excitedly. Suddenly, all dark thoughts of the upcoming mission left his mind. "I hear they have an original copy of Oogleworts ‘Draco Supremo’. I’ve read excerpts, but…" He trailed off. Thoughts of mountainous stacks of dragon lore filled his mind. He patted himself, searching for quill and parchment. He must make a list of questions that he needed to uncover.

His thoughts were interrupted when the cat transformed into a man. "The only thing worse than a black cat is a person masquerading as a black cat," Visverax said, annoyed by the man’s theatrics. "Fine, come along then. See if I care. Why don’t we invite a few kobolds to join us while we’re at it."

He was about to say more when Gukan barged in. "Hatchery? What are you going on about?" He looked at the goliath as if he’d grown a second head. "Wait, do you mean a dragon hatchery? … Dragon eggs and possibly a dracolich. What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!"

Visverax hurried around the place, looking for items to pack for the trip.
  #116  
Old Apr 8th, 2018, 10:44 PM
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Sora
Female Air Genasi Monk

 


Sora smiles at Dane and shrugs her shoulders. "It was a dream that sent me here. One that Viservax shared. Where he goes, I will go, too. Our fates are intertwined." She barely gets the words out before Viservax goes storming out of the room. "くそー," she mutters to herself. "I am sure he will return."

The genasi is about to follow Viservax to try and calm him down when Leosin approaches. She smiles at the half-elf and nods her head slightly at his questions. "Yes, Leosin. There are not so many of my kind in my homeland. I have met others in my travels, but merely a handful at best. My mother told me that there are those touched by each of the elements: water, fire, earth, and air, of which I am the latter." As if to accentuate the point, a soft breeze begins to billow around Sora and Leosin.

"As for where I am from, it is far east of here. Beyond the Hordelands lies my homeland, Wa, an island off the coast of Kara-Tur. I travelled across the Southern Ocean, the Segara Sea, Zakhara, the Great Sea, around the jungles of Chult, and finally the Shining Sea and the lands of Amn to reach this place at this time. It was my fate to be here now. If you wish to learn, I would be willing to teach you what the monks taught me before I embarked on this journey. Perhaps you could also teach me some of the ways of the Sword Coast."

  #117  
Old Apr 11th, 2018, 02:16 PM
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Man・Earth・Sky
 
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Leosin, feeling he has hit a nerve, grins at the suggestion of Draco Supremo. "I can let you see my notes, but it doesn't equal the original thing. You'd be surprised what they've got in Candlekeep, regarding not just Ooglewort; they've original notes of Darrellus, Garbok, and van Schneffle, too. And if the rumors are true—" And then, the transformation: the black cat was a person the whole time!? Well, all cats think they are people, but one that is actually a cat? That's not something one sees every day. And the sass to match... Leosin grins at the implications. "I'm not sure who you—" He attempts to start, but the sudden appearance of the Goliath from out of no where seems to draw his attention from that, and he listens. The word "hatchery" seems to shake him a bit, in the opposite direction from where it takes Visverax. He does not stop him, but this does help him transition to Sora, asking her questions: questions that she appears ready to answer.

"Air, huh? Now that's interesting; I'd never imagined I'd meet air as a person. You always think of the elements and elementals: you never see Air Elementals manifest as humanoid, but somehow elemental fire and water and earth? It's strange. Certainly makes sense I thought you had an 'air' about you, if you get my meaning." He offers her a wink, and a smile, one that seems to fit yet doesn't; he's an odd one, this Leosin.

"Kara... Kara-Tur? Oh, wow, that's... I'd never even considered going there. They say the Dragons are different there, and my, uh. My friends don't do a whole lot there." As she offers a map of her travels, he tries to map it out in his head, being confused somewhere between the Segara Sea and Chult, not quite certain, as if he hasn't even heard of fated Zakhara or the Great Sea."Teach me? That'd be fantastic; we have a few martial arts of our own, here in Faerun. I know a few, and can teach you. I mean, if you're up for it. I'm a little sore now, but... once you all are done here, maybe you can follow me and meet me further north? I have a few of my companions who would want to know more about you, your dealings with the Cult. I'll have to ride out tomorrow, but once you lot are done, do you think you can follow?" He is very earnest in asking, as if he has more than simply having them meet his friends in mind: and Sora can't help but feel as if this question is focused on her, primarily.

The night is long, and they have an energy about them: an energy called purpose.
 
  #118  
Old Apr 12th, 2018, 04:59 AM
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Maskain Maskain is offline
It's probably a joke.
 
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Bannerless Dane
Male Human Rogue
 


A suicide mission? From the way that they were all speaking, it certainly sounded like it. If everyone was to live though it they'd need a deceptive man to get the job done and them out safely. One with a quick hand and a quicker mouth. If Dane knew anyone who could work their charm and wit to cut into anyone's brain, it was him. "Well, I don't mean to raise my stock too high, but I've got a tongue made'a honey if we're trying to sneak..."

And then the animal shifter reappeared. A finger held high, the mercenary stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open and teeth sucking on air. "Or... we could use a cat." he finally let out, amazed and bothered in twin by the deception pulled by the man, who's form was still fully shaping together. How long has he been there?

With Visverax's early return and his semi-approval coming not long after, Dane looked to the others for a second before frowning. "Never too smart making a scouting party so big." he griped. Whoever this was, they didn't sit right with the mercenary. Taking a hand-rolled cigarillo from his pocket, Dane rose it to a nearby torch. It was his last one, but he needed the taste.

"What's your name druid?" He desperately hoped it wasn't Morning Tree or Midnight Swallow. Nature-folk like forest elves and the rare druid seemed to favor them. It wasn't his place to name people, best leave that to the rooted down. However, it was his opinion that those names were annoying to say. It didn't help that one of his old haughty business partners was named Ocean Sun. The bastard.

Gukan's arrival couldn't surprise the new hire like the shifting cat had, but his news and reaffirmation of it made him take a short drag. Dracolich? Sure sounds like a made-up word. His attentions were to the elf as he continued the conversation, finding his moody persona acting so chipper to be odd. The words he said however, were not. If there was a hatchery of dragons nearby and where they said... he'd need to get more tobacco.

Taking a string in hand and pulling his raggedy, open tunic taut to ward off the chill that reached up his spine, Dane shifted to a conversation that didn't make him waste his drags. Sora had been rather relaxed, so the man turned to her and Leosin. They were mid-speech, but he could gather enough that the two had some sort of monastic training. His only contribution however, would be a shrug to Sora when Leosin asks about them heading north. Leaving it to her.

Last edited by Maskain; Apr 12th, 2018 at 07:32 AM.
  #119  
Old Apr 12th, 2018, 11:29 AM
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Aeth sighting confirmed!
 
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Puma
Black Tomcat / Male Human Druid

 


It seemed he was not the only one to interrupt this meeting, for in rushed the large man whom the cat had not gotten a good look at. In his human form he was an inch shy of six feet, leaving him two feet shy of the massive man. At first he didn't have a good sense of what the exclamation meant, in context of the raiders, but after being insulted by the elf the wizard continued on to give him the context he needed. Light-skinned with a tan, he still paled visibly at the notion of a dragon hatchery and worse, a possible dracolich. He didn't know where the latter comment came from, but he had to assume that the elf knew what he was talking about, even if he didn't like cats. Both the goliath and the elf seemed ready to go right this instant, without any sort of plan. The cat saw well enough in the dark, but could the rest of them? Should they not rest first, perhaps? Not knowing what they had done in any more detail than the success bandied about in town rumor, he assumed they would be tired, but he wouldn't say as much lest he offend them.

The man who had offered his services while they were still outside, calling himself Dane, was hindered by the cat shifting into a man, his statements of self worth cut off in mid-thought. He was the first, however, to ask for the shifter's name. "Call me Puma," the black-haired man said, shrugging his fur-collared jerkin into a better position. There wasn't much more to say until a decision was made about whether they were going to turn around and return to the raiders' camp now or rest first. Of them all save perhaps Dane, Puma hadn't done anything taxing on his energy, so it mattered little to him except needing to find a place to sleep nearby if that was the choice made.
  #120  
Old Apr 16th, 2018, 10:33 PM
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Rhokax Soulreader
Male Dragonborn (Silver) War Cleric

 



Half-Dragons, the cult, a potential hatchery in the works as well, all with the desolation of his friends and comrades. Fate seemed to have a dark way of enveloping Rhokax into the fold…

Glancing over at Dane once more, the warrior given the name of Soulreader considered the man, shady as he was, and approached him from behind as he listened to Sora and Leosin speak. Placing a clawed hand on the human’s shoulder, the dragonborn leaned down to speak next to Dane at his eye-level, "Dane, I think it wise that you stick with me during our expedition to the camp, whenever it may be. While the others have their uses at the front of the line, I suspect I’ll be required to keep us all alive. Someone of your undoubted skill would be beneficial to watch over my back, if you understand. I have a feeling about you…" A feeling that one should keep their friends close, and their enemies closer.

Rhokax nodded to Dane slowly, making sure the man understood that Rhokax would be watching him from now on. Upon the appearance of the human shapechanger, Rhokax let out a startled snarl, his hand half-way towards his battleaxe before he stopped. Once Puma introduced himself, Rhokax nodded, slowly easing the tension within his body, "What purpose do you have with the cult, little Puma." As Rhokax was uncertain whether this man was actually a cat in humanoid form, or the opposite, it mattered little since everyone except for the Goliath was smaller than Rhokax.

Judging that having extra skilled soldiers to assist in what would surely be a difficult, nearly suicidal task, Rhokax excused himself from the others, as there was something he needed to do, and it simply could not wait any longer.

Travelling to a quiet section of a courtyard, one where there was no one to offer distraction, and the solemnity of Rhokax’s soul could bare witness, the armored dragonborn knelt down in the water-logged ground, laying his battleaxe across his knees, he place his right hand atop the axe-head where the symbol of Bahamut was emblazoned within the metal.

Focusing his mind, he began to pray: "For those who fought bravely in combat, for those who I called my friends, my comrades in arms, my adopted clan, I offer this pithy guidance to the afterlife where your actions will be judged by the eyes of those who you worshipped or feared. They fought in the service, unknowingly, of the Justicemaker, the God of Dragons, Bahamut.

Our foes fought for an evil in the name of dragonkind. My foes fought for a force which my people believe to be utterly true. The foes that brought down my comrades are the reason why my people consider me outcast, a betrayer of my blood. These foes reinforce the belief in my people, that brought them to forbid me from identifying myself as Clan Kimbatuul. I am without a home except for my faith in the King of Good Dragons. That somewhere, Good Dragons do exist, and they can aid in my crusade against the evil dragonkind.

But today, I only ask that you, Bahamut, offer guidance to the souls of my friends from the Scythes of Beiran. If you could... "
Rhokax caught himself as he felt a lump in his throat, the bitterness of the loss rising up in his chest. He had been imprisoned for days, tortured, and then escaped. Not only had he suffered little sleep during that time, but the only thing of consequence was to maintain his sanity, plot his escape, and cause whatever mayhem he could before he was killed.

Instead, he was rescued, brought to a port of safety, and given the opportunity to seek retribution for the loss he suffered. But that loss, that destruction of his adopted family, it was still raw, and he was only now able to process it fully. Tears gathered and streamed down his cheeks as he looks up to the sky, his fingers grasping at the Platinum Dragon’s emblem upon his axe, talons scratching against the metal slightly.

"If you could guide the Scythes of Beiran’s souls to your domain, so that they may aid you in whatever tasks you require, I doubt you could find more worthy souls to sit in your court. Please, offer my condolences to Beiran, and let him know I shall see him once your task is done with me. For now I live to serve in your war, and I shall deliver our enemies unto you for judgement."

Closing his eyes, Rhokax rose from the ground, clutching his battleaxe in his hand, he felt the emotion that lumped in his throat move downard, into the pit of his stomach. Gathering himself, he felt a growl rise up in his throat. It built, like the sound of thunder in the background, his body shaking with rage as the growl grew until finally the dragonborn threw back his head, opened his mouth, and unleashed a roar into the courtyard, thrusting his battleaxe up to the sky in salute to his god, and unleashing a torrent of icy fury as his dragonbreath released from his lips into the air above.

The silence that followed was for Rhokax to ease the burning in his blood. A burning that was not from his prayer, or the rage at the death of his friends. It was something coded deep within his race, conditioned and molded over centuries of brutal enslavement. A hatred which Rhokax combated with in his darkest moments that pushed him away from his god, but in this context he would draw strength from this particular instinct:

There were dragonkind to kill....
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PCs: Dramoth "Nova" / Rhokax Soulreader / Kayne Cyire / Torm / Donovan Whistler
GM: Scales of War 5e & Yeohven: Fall from Grace
Real Life hitting harder and harder. Working on updates as soon as I can, please have pity (patience) on me!
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