The Mountain of Shadows RP
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Infiltrator
Member # 2940
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written Monday, January 2 2006 05:34
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OOC: Hmm...page 18, on the brink of the final battle? Unlikely...better wait for this one to finish and jump in the next RP. :cool: -------------------- "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying." Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, May 1 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Monday, January 2 2006 12:58
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OOC: As a public service announcement, the next RP has already been prepared a few months ago and will be started once this one is finished. It'll be a Factional one. -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Master
Member # 5977
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written Monday, January 2 2006 23:57
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OOC: enough with the talking, its time to start fighting! (By the way, i was surprised we already started, I thought we'd wait for cain. oh well) IC: The two groups stared at each other. Filbert and the uruk-hai's with evi grins, and the others with bewilderment. This will be easier then I thought it would be, he thought. Take that druid, wizard, mage, whatever he is for example. he doesn't even have his wand! its broken! pathetic. And the others, with there poor daggers and swords. I spit on them. He looked at his own sword. It was still burining with the intensity of a hundred blast furnaces. The rulers of the demonic era were right. The day will come. The day is there. The day of the death of the era of kings and mages. "You are all going to die!" Filbert shouted at them. May the powers of the demonic rulers, orloki, Grah Hotz and... he sensed something. Cain? he looked around, and sensed the light vabrations of the tunnels. The others looked at him, not knowing what was going on, except the elf. She too was looking around, with a certain fear, filbert thought. Suddenly, he charged at them, the Uruk-Hai's took off and flew right at Sequioa and lisha. Lisha managed to escape and duck right at the moment the sharp claws wanted to rip her body open. Sequioa wasn't so luky. The claws got to him before he could get to them. He was thrown to the cave ceiling, landing on his back, were he kept lying. He stared at his wand. It was still broken. It really wasn't going to help him. While the third Uruk-Hai and Filbert were still on their way to the others, Lisha quickly threw a dagger to her attacker. Direct hit. The uruk-hai turned around, pulled the dagger out of his leg and threw it back. "I'm a demonic creature! Your pathetic trinkets won't help you!" he shouted at Lisha. This surprised her, and the others. Sequioa turned to her, and said: "Lisha... he... he... has the po... wer..." And he collapsed, knowing talking will only make him more exhausted. Melora on the other hand, full with energy, turned to lisha and shouted the following:"Demonic creatures are mighty beings! they have the power, when attacking and hitting their prey, to learn things about that prey! one thing is their language!" Lisha turned around to the uruk-Hai, slighty shocked. "Oh, great." She looked at her shoulder. A small stream of blood dripped on the cave floor. He swung his blade. The others ducked. The uruk-Hai attacked. Edith managed to escape from the claws. She was making a potion. Fibert looked at it. I know that smell, it... hmmm. Wait, it's a healing potion! He immediatly ran to Edith, who shouted for help of the others. When everybody suddenly heard a voice in their mind, they paralized. Tuulentekija, knowing what it was, shouted to the others: "It's Edith, she can't talk, but uses our minds to communicate!" edith nodded, they saw filbert, they saw his blade, they saw the potion. Filbert ran to Edith, already raising his blade. I must kill that stupid woman. He swung his blade, missed Edith, hit the potion herbs. They seemed quite useless now. Aaaah! he fell back. He was hit, and saw blood streaming down on his arm. He looked up and saw tuulentekija looking at him. "Filbert, you bastard, you are going down." Filbert, at first surprised by this sudden hit, jumped up. He looked around, and saw he was surrounded. "So you all want to die at once? fine with me," he said, while he saw three Uruk-Hai's closing in on the others. Now, the time has come. The day of flowing blood is today! -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 4153
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written Tuesday, January 3 2006 10:34
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OoC: I expect that Cain will join us shortly. (restrains urge to kill Filbert, as well as urge to just die and get it over with) IC: Pain lanced through Sequoia's body. The impact of ceiling and floor wouldn't have been so bad, but a few unluckily-placed stalactites on the ceiling had done a fair amount of damage. Trying to croak out a warning to Lisha had drained most of his remaining energy, and he lay silently cursing as he slowly lost consciousness. The druid's vision began to grow dark, and he could feel the taint of the mountain creeping between him and the cave floor, more solid than before. And then, it vanished. Sequoia could suddenly feel every inch of the cave floor beneath him, which puzzled his slowly-fading mind, and stopped the string of obscenities he had been thinking. He felt the sheer density of the stone, down to the roots of the mountain. As lights burnt out in his mind, a fragment of his druidic training flashed into his mind. Brother Copperbough was explaining the methods of drawing energy from the land, relying on the power of nature to recharge one's mind. All that one needed was to feel the pulse of the land. (Sequoia had previously discarded this idea as patently ridiculous) Now Sequoia felt the pulse of the mountain, an almost-sickly thumping which rattled his mind (or what remained of it). In what seemed like a reflex, his mind reached out for the pulse of energy. And he felt the mountain's energy course through his body. The taint which Sequoia had vowed to erase now seeped into his mind, along with the natural power of the mountain. The lights came back on, and the druid's first full thought came out in a frenzied rush, something to the effect of YEAAIGH!!! He could feel his body again, and it was complaining loudly. The druid's mind filled with the conflict of his own thoughts and the mountain's taint, an argument which threatened to erase what little remained of his sanity. As a spasm of mental confusion ran through him, he gripped his necklace with a bleeding hand. The pain subsided a bit, and the druid's vision returned. He felt the taint weaken, and his momentarily-heightened mental power inferred that the necklace must have been enchanted to provide resistance to mental magic. He lifted his head enough to scan the battle scene momentarily, and his body shuddered. He saw Edith crouched on the ground by some faintly smoking herbs, with a look of anger tinged with panic in her eyes. He saw Lisha, her shoulder bleeding, facing down an angry Uruk-Hai, and Tuulentekija was busy charging at Filbert, sword drawn. Melora still looked a bit surprised, but had drawn daggers and appeared to be calculating the risks of fighting. He saw Filbert, eyes filled with demonic hatred, rushing alongside a Uruk-Hai to try and skewer Tuulentekija. And lastly, Sequoia saw the Uruk-Hai standing over him, fangs dripping with what looked like saliva, eyes burning like... something that burned very evilly (Sequoia's mind skipped a beat on the analogy). The pain dulled as anger filled every nerve in his body. He wasn't sure how much control the taint had of his mind, but he was more worried about the demon leering over his prone body. He thought about his training. About his travels. This journey. And when his mind returned to the present, what little remained of his calm shattered like aged glass. Hatred surged into the front of his mind, and a spell rose unbidden to his lips. The flash of green and white light filled the passage, illuminating the surprised look on the Uruk-Hai's face before the bolt struck. The sound of magic tearing into the demon's skin caught everyone's attention, particularly Filbert, who narrowly avoided Tuulentekija's sword as he cast an almost-frightened look at Sequoia before refocusing on his duel with Tuulentekija. Sequoia struggled to stand up as the pain of his wounds returned. But the sight of the small pile of the demon's remains recharged his mind, and the anger returned. He will pay! He will suffer! With a bloodcurdling scream, Sequoia drew himself up to his full height, as a few of his wounds continued to bleed. He could feel them slowly closing, but the pain lingered. He would not die, but he would have a hard time surviving. He painfully drew the halves of his staff from his bloodied cloak, and they immediately glowed a deep, angry red. Then, he screamed again, for all of the pain brought to him by the accursed mountain, and for the small remaining shred of his sanity which remained. His mind cleared a bit. Turning to see the Uruk-Hai menacing Lisha, hatred filled his mind again, and he half-staggered, half-charged at the demon, beginning to bellow a spell as his wounds slowly bled. Return to your hell and leave mine, tainted fiend! he thought, before the hatred completely consumed his mind. OoC: Note that this is only meant to be a temporary insanity. The taint will remain, but it won't be this bad again. I'm personally rather proud of this passage... [ Tuesday, January 03, 2006 22:47: Message edited by: Ephesos ] -------------------- Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice. I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion. Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 00:29
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*** IC UNDER. *** -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Master
Member # 5977
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 00:40
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OOC: okay, i know I myself said that we should stop the talking and start fighting, but I did want to say this. i only forgot to say it with the IC. Ephesos, I understand that you are probably mad at me, but I couldn't resist the urge. also, a mage with a broken wand does seem like easy prey to me. i understand you want to kill Filbert immediatly, but what O din't understand is this sudden urge to just quit with the RP if it gets just a little rough and things you didn't want to happen. can anybody explain that to me please? -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 00:50
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OOC: He didn't exactly quit, and nor did he kill you. In fact, relative to the options we discussed, he was pretty forgiving considering you tossed him around like a rag and injured him critically. Also, like me, he is probably less annoyed at the way you handled the combat than at the text quality. When you go "Aaah" outside of dialogue, within your narrative, it's usually a sign you should... uh... calm down a little and avoid getting carried away. It's what you might call Zephyresque. -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Master
Member # 5977
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 01:13
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OOC: Oh god. I'm sorry for that. I know he didn't quit, but at that moment, well. maybe I got carried away indeed. I just had the feelign I wanted to badly injure somebody for once, pierce his soft flesh with clwas, pierce him with my sword, burn him with the buring hands of Filbert... Nothing personal Ephesos, I don't want to anger you or something like that. I understand it if you are angry at me. Zephyresque? No! i don't want that to happen! I must have been really carried away, or I wanted to write something, anything. Did anybody hear something of him, or did caecus evaporate? EDIT: i didn't make that many spelling mistales, did I, in the IC? [ Wednesday, January 04, 2006 01:14: Message edited by: Thralni, chicken god prophet ] -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 4153
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 10:15
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OoC: Thralni: I thought I had made it clear that the staff's being broken didn't mean much anymore... that just kind of annoyed me, though I acknowledge that from an IC perspective, Filbert would not know this. However, since you had read it, I would've hoped that you would have Sequoia do something before getting smashed up. And about the Zephyresque tendencies, just try to ease up on the demon angle a little bit, and try not to disable half of the remaining characters in a single post again. And if you ever sprout extra arms, we kill you. :D All: I keep noticing something. Very few characters here have taken much damage at all, or so it seems. Sullust, Sequoia, and Caecus are the only ones who ever lost consciousness once (excluding Brail's death by bear). Personally, I recall Sequoia being unconscious twice now, nearly being killed by Zephyr twice (once after I dropped a rock on him, and once in Verwey when he had me by the throat), and one of two people who ever had their weapons damaged (Andros being the other). Just thought I'd point it out, because one more decisive hit like that and Sequoia is going to have to die for real... plot devices can only revive you so many times... In summary, stop focusing the beatdown on Sequoia, if you'd be so kind. Sorry for the interruption. -------------------- Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice. I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion. Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00 |
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Master
Member # 5977
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 10:24
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may be you didn't make it clear enough, Ephesos, because I always had the feeling that Sequioa's magical powers are very limited and take much concentration before anything will happen. maybe I misunderstood. And don't worry, the chance that Filbert will get extra limbs is quite small. he is and stays a human, won't he. -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 2984
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 14:11
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OOC: Seeing as my precious post got pretty much buried, I'll post my next one in here. IC: Melora had switched from sage to assassin within an instant, the inbred instincts of her race allowing her to draw her daggers and evaluate her opponent's defense with hardly a conscious thought. The first two daggers hit one of the Uruk-Hai, grazing his throat and striking his chest. There was a heavy thud, but the demon appeared to be unfazed. The third narrowly missed its shoulder, while the fourth sailed past his ear and then by Filbert's hair. My aim is rusty, she cursed herself, it must be the taint. That, or she was getting tired after this ordeal. By her estimate, she had not slept for twenty hours at least, and not truly rested since Verwey, a few days ago. ((ooc: 4 months...)) Her kind was hardy and could go without sleep for long times, but their skill suffered. She looked around for Lisha, but did not find her at first. Then she saw her - the assassin had slipped into the shadows, evidently seeking an opportunity to get close to Filbert. In an attempt to give her that window of opportunity, Melora's hands crept to her cloak again, while she carefully kept herself ready to evade the beasts' lethal claws. But it was not her that the creatures seemed to be after. Whether because she was a harder target, or they knew the drow as one of their own - she grimaced - the second Uruk-Hai launched itself at the Lisha and Sequoia, missing the former one but sending the druid spinning through the air like a rag doll. A miracle if he survives this, Melora thought before she felt an unreasoning rage take her. Perhaps it was another possession coming on, but the sight of this... fool... strutting about and commanding demons and killing her companions was too much. What does he know of hell? When did he ever trudge the blighted swamps of Ilyat and face its nameless denizens under a moonless night? Without time to think, she drew another pair of daggers and sent them like lightning rods into the chest of the injured Uruk-Hai. But the demon seemed not to feel it. Desperate, she searched through her weapons. Steel, copper, harizan-coated, mithril... no, that's for werewolves. Although... taking out her mithril dagger, she launched it at the injured Uruk-Hai's throat, where it burned with a light as bright as the sun and turned the demon into a pile of dust. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Sequoia stirred from where he was lying... Suddenly, the world was alight with green; a lightning bolt sizzled the air and struck the second of the demons, the one who had thrown him earlier. Melora's eyes re-adjusted to the sudden darkness after the flash, and there was nothing left of the demon. Sequoia stood up. Now that he was back in the light, Melora gasped again - his wounds were more serious than they had appeared at first. If he did not get medical attention within minutes, he would die. And he was their only healer, unless you counted Edith's potions. I might be able to fix something up, she thought, while remembering that healing spells were by far not her forte. Hers was the destructive side of nature's power, the crushing jaws of the tiger and the lethal poison of the spider. In spite of his wounds, Sequoia seemed to stand with little difficulty. Melora marveled at this before she saw his eyes - bright green pools, but with a hidden spark of red fire. The taint of the mountain was driving him, like it had her earlier She drew back in fear, for Orloki's power was awesome. She felt like screaming. Sequoia did. The druid's shout - whether of rage, pain, fear, or all of it, she did not know - echoed from the high ceiling and filled the tunnel. Then he screamed again. Louder. Melora was still apprehensive, but a hint of irritation crossed her. If he's going to act the enraged berserker, can't he do it a bit more quietly? The third Uruk-Hai, now faced by foes on three sides, showed a sudden terror. He was not controlled by Orloki, but Filbert - and Filbert was as little a master of demons as Melora was a high priest of the Order of Krell. With a fear that a true master could have suppressed, the demon looked around at his adversaries: Melora was drawing another dagger, Sequoia was brandishing his broken staff like a wrathful God of Nature, and Lisha, who had yet to make her kill, stood menacingly before him. It was too much. The demon turned and fled. OOC: He's going to come back within moments when Orloki gets him back under control. -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Wednesday, January 4 2006 19:07
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"Hah! Fools! You consider this a victory? I don't need Orloki's help! You will die by my hands!" Filbert took a step toward Tuulentekija, keeping his eyes on the others but his focus on the fighter. He raised his sword and brought it crashing down onto the warrior's; another dagger, from Melora's direction, flew past his head. Tuulentekija stumbled back, still half stunned from the demonic blow. Weakly raising his sword, he glared with defiance and more than a bit of apprehension at his advancing foe. Flap. Flap. It wasn't the sound of uruk-hai wings that drew their attention, it was the direction from which it came. All heads turned enough to see the demon propel itself through the cave entrance and directly into the mountain. Its clawed feet scraped on the stone, and it stumbled toward them as if drawn forward by an invisible hand. It was clearly wounded, but the group took no comfort in that fact. This uruk-hai wouldn't be fleeing. A smug smile on his face, Filbert raised his sword again. "This one's mine!" He swung at Tuulentekija, who turned back in time to get out of the way. Laughing mindlessly, Filbert stepped forward again. "Edith!" Melora, who had drawn two more daggers and was trying to find an angle that didn't put her comrade at risk, had noticed the new demon's focus. Sequoia had too, but was torn between the two enemies. Glancing at his eyes, a chill didn't run down Melora's spine - she was of the drow, after all - but had she been human, it would've shaken her to the core. She threw one last dagger at Filbert; it struck, but didn't pierce him. As Tuulentekija prepared himself for the next attack, Melora drew another precious mithril-edged dagger and sprinted toward the new uruk-hai. Edith was crouched on the floor, several vials held between her fingers, preparing something desperately. A fiery flash temporarily blinded all but the uruk-hai as his would-be companion reentered the hall. It ran at the group as if chased by hell itself, which, Tuulentekija realized, it very well might be. Filbert didn't seem to control the newcomer. Orloki could control the mountain, and even, it seemed, his enemies within it. Why not, then, his slaves? Sequoia's mind latched on to the old uruk-hai, the enemy of... it didn't matter, it was the enemy, and it called for utter destruction. His glowing staves before him, the druid began chanting in an impossibly low voice, almost a rumble, as if the mountain were speaking through him. The cave shook as if trying to throw an unwelcome rider from its back; several stalagmites dislodged themselves and came crashing down upon the uruk-hai. The beast roared in pain and rage and threw itself forward, hurtling like an avalanche at Sequoia. As Melora turned from a perfect throw to watch, a beam of white light sprouting from the wounded uruk-hai's breast, a new light arose. The green glow emanating from Brother Sequoia's broken staff, almost from the druid himself, became a harsh glare and continued growing in intensity until Melora's mithril and even the fire of the uruk-hai were obscured. As the uruk-hai crouched to leap at him, a torrent of light broke from his hands as a tortured yell rose from his throat, joined by the shouts of fear from the group. The uruk-hai disappeared for half a second, then crumpled to the floor, raising a cloud of dust and steam around it. A few loose rocks rained down on its broad, lifeless back. With all eyes on him, Sequoia's legs folded and he collapsed, gasping, but still, it seemed, very much alive. Weakling, haltingly, his hand moved toward his chest. His fingers found the necklace and grasped it tightly, almost desperately, as if holding on for his life. The cave went silent for a moment. Edith muffled a gasp. Tuulentekija turned his head, slowly, almost afraid of what he might see before him. Filbert stood still, looking between the fallen demon and the druid on the stone floor. As if feeling Tuulentekija's gaze, he glanced over at him, then at Melora. A manic smile remained firmly on his face. "What will you do now?" They said nothing. Tuulentekija stared into his face. Melora stared past him. "You're doomed! You don't have as many mithril daggers as Orloki has uruk-hai," he exclaimed, staring back at Melora, who calmly met his gaze. "Edith, you are useless without the herbs I destroyed." He looked down a bit, back at the masked warrior. "And you..." Before anyone could move, Filbert had swung his sword at his victim. The blade sliced through his armor, tearing part of the shoulder protection askew, and opened a gaping wound in his left shoulder. Tuulentekija gasped and bit his lip in pain, trying desperately not to cry out. Slowly, shakily, he began to raise his sword. Filbert looked at Melora, still smiling, and raised an eyebrow. She didn't move. He laughed. "You're learning." He casually hefted his sword and stepped toward Tuulentekija, who stepped back, struggling to hold his sword steady. Filbert raised his sword above his head. And gasped. Melora's face remained unchanged as Filbert fell forward, Lisha's knife planted firmly in his back. His sword fell to the ground with a clatter, and was joined by Tuulentekija's. "Where did you c-" "From the shadows." Lisha's face, too, remained expressionless as she gave Tuulentekija one last hard look, then turned and walked stiffly toward the body of Sequoia. Abandoning her pretext of calm, Melora ran to the form. She began to kneel, then looked at Lisha and straightened. She stood waiting, somehow awkwardly. Tuulentekija and Edith exchanged glances, then followed. Lisha reached them and knelt quickly, trying to conceal her trembling as she felt for a pulse. She shook his wrist, frustrated, then silently reprimanded herself and held still. "I... what..." "Sequoia." Lisha sprung up. "Sequoia." "Is he-" "Shh!" Lisha rolled him onto his back delicately, and reached for his other wrist. On contact, he reflexively clenched his fist. "I am free." Lisha looked immediately at Melora. "Free of what?" Melora shook her head, still watching Sequoia. "He's not. Look." Sequoia sat up. "What happened? Where's..." "Look," Melora interrupted. "His eyes." Lisha looked. "Only a bit..." Sequoia looked up at Lisha. "Is he dead?" "No." "What? Oh, no," Tuulentekija said. "No, he means Filbert, not Orloki. Yes, he is dead." "No." Melora gave her a hard look. "What do you mean?" Lisha stood and looked back. "I know where to strike so that a man will surely die. I avoided those spots." Drawing back her cloak, she revealed an open pouch. "This enters the bloodstream fastest near the heart. Normally it takes a while to paralyze the target, but we don't have a while." "Xyda flower." "Yes." Ignoring Melora's incredulity, Lisha turned back to the druid and offered him a hand. He took it, and began to rise, slowly and stiffly. He bit his lip in pain. "Brother, the poison will last another fifteen minutes, and make any sort of motion very painful, if possible, for some time after that. He is yours." [ Wednesday, January 04, 2006 23:08: Message edited by: Lady Davida ] -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
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Master
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 00:32
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IC: An incredible pain launched itself through Filberts body. He tried to move, reach his sword. It was in vain. He closed his eyes. He felt his body. It was retreating in agonizing pain. I'll die, was his only thought. YOU FOOL! I thought you would be hardened by what you went through! Filbert could only listen to the voice. Again, he tried to move a bit, but his body didn't obey. The pain was to incredible. Master... Filbert tried to get to his lord. He closed his eyes again, as if sleeping, and indeed, after some frustrating moments of pain, caused by light vibrations of the mountain that caused Filberts body to move, he fell asleep. A short nightmare possessed him. "Father! No!" He was back at that moment. The man had a sword, he stood face to face with an old man, his father. Open wounds on his shoulder made it difficult to raise his word again. It was useless. The other man, with a maniacal grin on his face, came closer, very slowly. "You are going to die, here and now. the royal house of Ningal is over. All dead and buried. I already dug a grave for you. You wife is already in it, now only you need to accompany her." Filbert, a small boy of ten looked at him. He gasped as he heard the news about his mother. "Father..." The words had difficulty to be pronounced as he saw his father fall. Dead. A big red pool of blood, as a swimmingpool of hell, lay around him and became bigger every second. "Father!" He ran to him, in the middle of the courtyard of his home, in this terrible night, his father had fallen. His white beard was red of the blood that it had absorbed. The houses around him, the stable, his dogs small house, his own home and the gardens, were in flames. The fire rose high, as if trying to touch god himself, who ordered the flames to stay on earth, where they obediently stayed. Filbert took his fathers sword. It was red of blood. Blood of the invaders he had killed. people of the order. The man looked at him, surprised. At this moment Cain slowly walked on, up the stairs, almost there where the group was fighting Filbert. With every step, small vibrations were produced, strong enough to let Filbert sense them. With every step, the nightmare became meaner, stronger more powerful. Filbert stayed asleep. The man walked to him, his blade rosen. Filbert stood up. He took the sword. the small boy could barely carry the heavy sword, let alone try to raise it above his head, as his father had done just three minutes ago. The bladesman ran at Filbert. Blackness and a silver symbol. Filbert fell, wounded. The man left. It was all silent, except for the rustle of the flames, eagerly consuming the roof of their house. It fell with a thud. The house of Ningal had fallen. Filbert awoke. The pain seemed to be less, and he burned in his body. The anger came back, with only one word in his mind. "Cain." Slowly, disobeying to Orloki and his body, he stood up. Everybody, Sequoia, Lisha, Melora, Edith and Tuulentekija, looked at him with big fearing eyes. "NO! Fifteen minutes! He lay there for barely ten minutes! How can this be!" Filbert stood up, took his sword. Before moving again, multiple things happened. Orloki shouted at him in his mind to obey him, his body protested with agonizing pains, a flame of hatred burnt in Filbert's body, stronger then ever. Filbert supported himself against the cave walls. he slowly walked away, stared at by the others. Slowly, he walked back, back to the stairs where the vibrations seemed to be the strongest. He was coming. the one who had killed his family, cain. a fire, as when he fought Cain the last time started to burn in hsi eyes, making them red and frightening. his fiery sword in his hamd, he walked back. "What the hell is he doing!" Melora asked the others, still surprised by the sudden retreat. "shall we follow?" Sequoia asked. The others gazed at him. "Did I hear that correctly? he wants to follow!?" Tuulentekija asked, while looking at his bleeding wounds. "Yes. that's indeed what I..." Sequoia collapsed again. Lisha ran to catch him before he could hit the ground. Filbert walked on, very slowly. Cain will pay for what he did. The power of the bands of a family are strong ones. I will fight until the end, if that is how I can stop him. OOC: Woohooo! Longest of my posts so far! I know this is something old which I covered before. I did it a second time for two reasons: escape from death, and finnaly finish the fight which I had with cain. actually, there's also a third reason: no control of Orloki anymore. EDIT: Soem minor changes in Filbert's appearance after waking up. nothing big, though. [ Thursday, January 05, 2006 02:49: Message edited by: Thralni, chicken god prophet ] -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |
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Infiltrator
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 02:35
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OOC: This is getting intresting... *** IC UNDER CONSTRUCTION *** -------------------- "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying." Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, May 1 2003 07:00 |
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Infiltrator
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 03:56
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OOC: Sorry for my absence. I didn't have access to internet during my holidays, and doing nothing is time taking business. Well, I'm back now, and it seems I have horrible amount of work ahead me to catch up with you. IC: After Edith had spoken to him, Tuulentekija remained quiet for a while, trying to repel all thoughts off of his mind. But he simply couldn't help all the memories which were flooding his mind, and the urge to speak, to share his burdens with someone was becoming too great. So, after a while, he again begun talking to Edith. "We had quite a life, me, Ashar and Melody" he said. "Melody worked as a housemaid to Ashar as I roamed the world searching for lost artefacts of his kin. Even to this date it's been the best job I've ever had." A bitter smile spread over his torn-apart face. "Ashar's kin. You mean the Death hawks" Edith said. It was not a question. "Yes" Tuulentekija replied. "Great shapeshifters of the old world, avians capable of taking on humanoid forms. They were friends only to sages and shamans. All others hated them." Tuulentekija lifted his hand and stared again to the black 'pearl'. "You'd be surprised how much trash they left to this world considering that they didn't know anything about crafting" he said. "You're going besides the point", Edith said to him, although Tuulentekija could sense a bit of curiosity on her mind. "Am I? As far as I can tell this could be of much more relevance to us than my foolish adventures." His mind flashed back to the black 'ice' they had encountered before. Edith gave him a kind of a glance that Tuuletekija hadn't seen ever before. Well, he had seen something similar once , but that is another story... "You don't mean...?" Edith begun, but her thoughts were so disorganized that Tuulentekija was confused what she was trying to point out. "I don't mean anything, miss Edith" ,he said, "but Death Hawks have been on this mountain once, long time ago. My knowledge about old myths is small, but I do know, that before the day they came here, no Death Hawk had ever carried a metal item." He stared again at the black pearl, thinking. "But after that, they all had armor stronger than the best plate mails than man can craft..." At this point, Tuulentekija noticed that Edith was not listening to him, at least not fully. It didn't take long for him to realize why. When he had been young, Tuulentekija had gone trough rigorous training to spot and memorize even the most irrelevant sounds. During the long years he had forgotten much what he had been once taught, but he still had the ability to recall things that he hadn't payed even the slightest attention the first time around. So when he realized what the elf and the foreign woman were talking about, he started desperately searching his mind about the beginning of their conversation. And when he remembered, he was dazed. If this is a coincidence, I will eat my shoes for dinner, he thought so loudly that he was sure Edith had heard him. They seized their own conversation to hear what the elf had to say. When the elf stopped Tuulentekija was, in a lack of better word, thrilled. This creature knows a lot about this place. I have to talk with her when I have a change, the sooner the better, he thought. However his thinking was distracted by a weird sound emanting from the passageway behind. When he turned around and saw a black, winged creature walking from the darkness, he almost shouted from fear. He was strangely relieved when he noticed it was only a black, winged demon. Then he noticed Filbert, or whoever ha now was, and became as angry as his exhaustion and aching feet let him. He instinctously searched for his sword, and was happy to notice he still had it with him. If my feet weren't so goddamn sore, I'd run. I doubt a bunch of tired wanderers have any change against those demons, he thought, but even if Filbert is a servant of one demon or another, I doubt it has improved his swordplay very much. --- The fight was over much sooner than Tuulentekija had thought. He was, to say at least, amazed that they all were still alive. However, he wasn't at all happy when the druid suggested following Filbert. "Did I hear correctly? He wants us to follow?" he said and glanced his shoulder. Well, it wouldn't be lethal if it was inflicted by normal blade, but then again, Filbert's definetly wasn't normal. Tuulentekija remembered the sword, and recalled how it's blade had radiated incredible heat. Still, it hadn't cauterized the wound. It was higly unnerving to him. However, even more unnerving was the power he sensed when the druid passed out. He could have as well thrown his self confidence to deep fizzure that leads to the fiery core of earth itself. "I'd like to note you, that this mountain is like a sleeping dragon", he said to other with a worried expression on his face. "and I can tell something is coming up that passage. Whatever it is, it will step on that dragon's tail. I think we should leave this place immediatly." Others glanced him with worried looks on their faces. Still, Tuulentekija wasn't sure he had convinced them to follow his advice. Lempo soikoon, I'm not sure I've convinced even myself, he thought. OOC: Sorry about skipping the fighting, but I think you did good enough job on it. By the way, when did Tuulentekija get a new mask? [ Thursday, January 05, 2006 03:58: Message edited by: Frozen Feet ] -------------------- Somebody PLEASE turn the heat on. Posts: 617 | Registered: Tuesday, April 13 2004 07:00 |
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 05:14
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Cain was at this point carefully climbing the slippery stairs leading to the source of the combat. It was here that he felt the demonic presence leave the combat; it was not surprising then to hear no more shouts of battle or clashing of weapons. He stopped. The silence lingered for what felt like an eternity; those ten minutes were all too familiar for Cain, many times in his mortal life he had experienced the calm after the storm. Only this time, the bigger storm was yet to come and Cain desired to live through that storm and for that he would need the help of the mortals, like it or not. The time seemed appropriate to rejoin the mortals, Luckily for him, battle had just concluded. They would be weak and willing to listen and do just about anything to survive. As he prepared to enter the scene he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. For a moment he thought his plan would go to ruin, someone was still very much healthy and combat ready, his worry soon disappeared as he noticed the footstep revealed someone was painfully dragging his feet down the stairs. Bulking up to his highest and strongest form, Cain steadily walked up the stairs to meet the tired combatant. What the… For a second, Cain lost his composure. In front of him stood Filbert. Not the naive, young and bubbly annoying Filbert he had hired back in the town, no, this young mortal was not Filbert, or was he? His clothes and armour were torn and shred, his hair was a mess and his skin was pale, grey and with tones of green around his eyes. But his eyes, if there was any part of Filbert that still indicated any sign of life that was his eyes. They screamed fury at the darkness before him, and then the eyes turned down and found Cain. It was reassuring for Cain to see his presence had an even stronger and more shocking effect on Filbert. Soon this effect was repeated on the rest of the mortals that had curiously gathered behind the drifting Filbert. Two females, a human Cain had recognized from the town and a Drow he had not seen before, adopted discrete combat positions behind Filbert; apparently they were the only ones capable of anything close to serious combat. Behind them he saw an unmasked Tuulentekija and a tired Edith who wearing a mask. Both almost dropped the wounded body they were carrying. It was a Druid of some sort, the robes looked familiar somehow. Cain was quick to dismiss the three of them, as they looked barely capable of holding themselves. There was a tense moment of silence all around; suddenly, the tension was cut by a painful scream from Filbert. "You bastard! You killed my father! You will die by my hand!" Recklessly, Filbert launched himself at Cain. Cain easily avoided Filbert's clumsy swing; so awkward was his move that Cain straightforwardly snatched the sword from Filberts hand. Cain stared bemused at the enraged Filbert that somehow stumbled back into a clumsy combat stance; he didn't seem to notice the obvious tiredness and unusual stiffness of his body. It was in his turn that Cain noticed the serious dagger wound in his back Poison, I should've known. The imbecile is hallucinating. Filbert charged once again, this time throwing a direct punch at Cain's face. "This is for my father and the royal house of Ningal!" Cain didn't move this time; the words that Filbert screamed triggered forgotten memories from his mortal life, memories from his days in the Order. Yes, Cain remembered. Filberts fist landed flat on Cain's right cheek. There was a second of silence, as Filbert waited for a grunt of pain from Cain. Instead, Cain slowly turned his face to Filbert as if nothing had happened while Filbert retrieved his fist somewhat baffled. "I remember know. I remember your father; I remember what we did to him and the people of Ningal for refusing to hand in the artefacts. If it is of any consolation, the Order of the Sacred Item is no more … neither is Cain," there was a brief pause, "I finished with both of them." "You lie! You Bastaaard!" Filbert screamed in fury and charged once again, with more anger than actual strength he viciously started punching Cain's stomach and chest. Cain remained immobile, receiving Filbert's punches one after another. Then slowly but steadily Cain started laughing, first a mumble, then an outright loud mocking laughter. "Is this all you have Orloki! Is this your paladin! Your mighty champion!" With his left hand, Cain grabbed a frustrated Filbert by the neck and lifted him to eye level. "Don't you understand worm! You are as much of a menace to me now as you were when you were ten, cowering in a corner as I finished your father." Cain strengthened his grip around Filbert's neck as he started to choke. Behind him, the female warriors slowly approached him. "Look at you," Cain continued, "Orloki has drained your energies and your own party has beaten you to a pulp of flesh and bones. I might as well send you to your father." With his right hand, Cain pointed Filbert's sword at his stomach, but he then remembered his original plan and released Filbert, who fell on the floor gasping for air. "But, you might still prove useful if we are to defeat Orloki." Said Cain as he slowly turned to the party. "We?" Broke in the Drow. "You don’t plan on attacking Orloki with these trinkets do you?" Cain asked, waving Filberts sword mockingly and then tossing it away. He then boldly walked between the females and towards Edith, Tuulentekija and the seriously wounded Druid. "I am offering my assistance." Cain continued, as he snatched his old pouch of healing spores from what was left of Edith's bag. "My enemy is your enemy and I am more than combat capable as Tuulentekija and Edith can assess." He then opened the pouch and released the remaining spores over the Druids most serious wounds. The Druid screamed in unbearable pain as his skin sizzled to the contact of the spores, luckily for him, he passed out. Cain then stood up and faced the wider tunnel leading to the peak of the mountain. "We are close to the final battle, you should all rest and heal." Cain said as he walked further into the tunnel, just enough so that the party could see his bulky silhouette sitting down on a boulder. "I will keep watch on this tunnel, you may decide weather you go with me or not, the way I see it, you don't have much of an option." OOC: Sorry if I looked too powerful in front of Filbert. But let's face it, he is human, poisoned, beaten and probably drained from Orloki's control against a relatively fresh, very strong Cain. [ Sunday, January 08, 2006 13:46: Message edited by: The_Nazgul ] -------------------- "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying." Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, May 1 2003 07:00 |
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Master
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 08:03
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OOC: I think filbert has to retreat before doing anything more. he's going away for now, to meet ya all later again. IC: filbert kept lying were the demonic Cain had left him, together with his sword, that now seemed a lot less spectacular. I must retreat before I attack once again. He crawled back up the stairs and waited for Cain to walk away, together with the rest of the group. He took his sword and crawled back into the tunnel. The voices of the group and Cain were a bit softer now, so he decided to crawl into the tunnel, but go the opposite direction. He crwaled and kept crawling, until he found some rocks, onto which he sat down and rested. He lay his sword nearby the rock on which he was sitting, and took off his shredded cloak. He lay down and fell asleep. When he awoke it was silent in the tunnels. He must have slept for at least half an hour. The pain was gone now, so he could move a lot easier. he kept sitting. he had to decide on a plan of attack. Just charging at Cain wouldn't help him much. He didn't even know how you could hit a demon and causing him some pain, because just trying to hit him with your bare fists also didn't seem like a succesful strategy. He fell asleep again after thinking of a lot of useless strategies. A book. Two hands opened it. A man with a white beard smiled at him. Filbert looked at him and smiled back. "Look my son, in this book there are some mighty defenses and attacks you could learn. If you were to be a warrior, you must know them all. The strongest of them all is this ritual." He flipped through the book, and stopped on one of the pages. A picture was drawn of a triangle with some candles on it. next to it were some kind of instructions. "father, father, father!?" "Yes, what is it my son?" He smiled. "Can you... Can you read it aloud for me?" Awaiting his fathers verdict, Filbert put his hand in his mouth and bit on it neurotically. "But of course, my son." Filbert's face lit up and he pulled his hand out of his mouth, while his father started to read the text aloud. "The ritual of the marter," his father began, "is a powerful ritual, in which the one that undergoes the ritual gets unusual, or, when injured, normal, but improved strenghtes and powers. The aim of this ritual is generally to be stronger in combat. Doing the ritual is also not to hard: every person who knows enough of arcane runes, can do this ritual. Its generally a good idea not to do the ritual to often, as strange things might happen with a persons sanity: it may drive him insane when used to much. Things one must first do, is to draw a triangle on the ground. As long as the triangle is clearly drawn, it doesn't matter what you use to draw it. A broken twig might be enough." Filbert looked at the chair his father was sitting on. Might the chair be enough to draw it? "Three candles are required. One on each angle of the triangle. Light the candles and sit down in the middle. When seated, read the following runes aloud, then soft, and once again aloud." His father stopped reading, and he looked at Filbert. Filbert looked at him. "This text is to hard for you to understand, I'm afraid. Maybe, tomorrow, we can start learning you arcane lore? Would you like that?" Filbert started jumping up and down of enthusiasme. "Yay! Yay! I'm going to be a magician!" he exclaimed. His father laughed and smiled at the sight of his happy son. Filbert awoke. What a peculiar dream. He remembered the dark hole in the cave wall he passed when he was still possesed by orloki. The one with the chill around it. Of course, that's what it was all about! it was a small temple, rituals were performed inside! I wonder what I will find there... He quickly sat up and took his cloak and sword. As the pain was less and he rested a bit, he could finnaly walk again without any real problems. He stumbled back to the stairs and decended them quickly, while trying to stay in the dark as much as possible. There it was. After a ten minute walk, he was back at the place were he first fought Edith and Tuulentekija. There was that peculiar hole, still with a chill around it! he quickly walked to it. The hole seemed just big enough for him to slide through, now he was beaten to pulp. With some effort he succeeded and fell on the other side of the hole. It was quite cold in there, and he could see why. A small hole through which snow and wind blew in. He tightened the cloak around him, as to forbid the snow and wind to touch his body. He walked to the other side of the small temple, were he managed to find a small door in the dark. He tried to open it, but didn't have much luck. Eventually he banged the door with his sword, which seemed to help. After some well-placed blows the door opened. Darkness. He walked in. While constantly touching the cave walls, he managed to find a chair next to some pedestal and a closet. He opeded the closet, where he found five candles. the problem was lighting one of them, when he remembered his small bag. He had carried it all the time without actually noticing it. He put his hand in it and started feeling around. If only... Ah! There it was. His small wand. It still contained about five of the ten bolts. Maybe it wouldn't be that usefull when charging a demon, but a candle... He fired a bolt and hit the candle, which was egnited instantly. Finnaly he could see the room. It was a small room, dug out of the cave wall. Three books were lying on a big pedestal. One of the books he recognised. that books looks like the one my father had, i wonder if... He fipped through some pages and remembered the drawing from his dream. Of course! He took three candles, a stone he found on the ground and the book and went to the temple. He drew the triangle, as the book said. Then he lit the candles with the already lit candle, and put them on the angles of the triangle. He took the book and sat in the middle. He began to read the runes. They were not so difficult for him anymore. His father is quite a good teacher. No, was a good teacher he thought, correcting his earlier thought. He tried to memorize the runes. After five minutes of practicing, he put the book away, and sat back in the middle of the triangle. he started screaming on the top of his voice, that everybody would probably hear it, also the group, and thus Cain, most probably also Orloki would hear it: In tempel dees, ben ik degene met diens kracht, degene met diens wapens, degene met diens heil! Ik! Filbert! laat de engelen neerdalen en mij kracht geven! (OOC: this was Dutch. didn't have the patience to think of a new language) He spoke softly, then on the top of his voice again, after which he stood up. An unholy aura formed around his entire body and fille him with new energy. his wounds slowly healed, and his energy came back. and now, it is the time to tackle Cain! he walked back to the small room and took his sword. The immens anger slwoly came back to him when thinking of that particular devastating night. "Cain!" he shouted, and the mountain shuddered. OOC: a lot of third person, but I didn't know another way of telling it. I just wanted to get Filbert away there, after that rather pittyful fight with cain, thus to give him new energy. this he could get fighting again soon. And the sooner the better... I hope I didn't make it all to unrealistic. i have the feeling that it is. What do you guys say? [ Thursday, January 05, 2006 08:08: Message edited by: Thralni, chicken god prophet ] -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 10:28
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OoC: Not bad, Thralni. A little bit of a stretch, but I think we can allow it. We've seen worse here, anyway... -------------------- Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice. I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion. Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00 |
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 14:17
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OOC: It's ok, I like how you used dutch, it works well there. Too bad spanish is not as cool when doing spells'n stuff...neither is english anyway. One thing though, the trip back to the temple is more than 15 min. It took me like three posts to get from the temple to the top of the mountain. I think you should let the others post a couple of times each before rejoining the party. Ephesos, here are the dialog pics for Cain. Normal and "Demonized", hope they work for ya. I'm using the first one in a scenario I'm working on, the second one I won't probably use. The monster pics I'll work on later, do you want a "sitting down" graphic for Cain? I posted them here so people could see my image of Cain, I thought other players could use it too.  [ Thursday, January 05, 2006 14:25: Message edited by: The_Nazgul ] -------------------- "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying." Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, May 1 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 14:39
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OOC: The demonized Cain looks surprisingly normal. For some reason I imagined his skin having more of a reddish tinge... -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 15:54
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OOC: I guess the purple background softens it a bit, but if you compare it to Cain's leather jacket in the normal Cain, you will see how the skin is actually the same "leather" color. Think of it as someone who has been way to much in a solarium. It was never ment to be a strong red anyway, that would look funny. [ Thursday, January 05, 2006 15:57: Message edited by: The_Nazgul ] -------------------- "I don't want to achieve immortality through my work, I want to achieve it through not dying." Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, May 1 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 19:10
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OoC: Nazgul, those look great! And a sitting graphic would be appreciated, but it's not completely necessary. (After all, not a single druid in DoK was sitting) -------------------- Gamble with Gaea, and she eats your dice. I hate undead. I really, really, really, really hate undead. With a passion. Posts: 4130 | Registered: Friday, March 26 2004 08:00 |
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Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 21:11
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"Cain." The demon looked up at Lisha. "Yes?" "He's getting away." Cain glanced at Filbert and shrugged. "He'll be back. He's still mortal." Walking back to the rest of the group, Lisha watched Filbert over her shoulder. "He must be in excruciating pain," she said to Melora as she drew near. "Cain is right, he's only mortal." "He is still posessed." "Completely." Melora glanced at Lisha's pouch. "Xyda flower?" "Extremely rare, I know. I hate to use it, but..." "Where did you find it?" Lisha's expression grew hard, her eyes murderous. "What do you take me for, a scholar?" Melora smiled grimly. "You have nothing to fear from me." "No. No, of course not." "Good." "The Eastern Lands, though..." Melora grabbed her arm tightly, suddenly. Lisha twisted out of her grasp. "Off me, elf. What gives you the right-" "I have seen things you'll never-" "Ladies!" They fell silent. Neither moved, but both attended to Tuulentekija. "We are in the midst of Orloki's stronghold. Now is not the time to argue amongst ourselves. Let us make up our minds about Cain, and act together. And soon. I think we should go with him. What happens after, we will deal with then." "Go," Lisha hissed. "Go with the tainted one. Orloki will be glad to see you, I'm sure." She threw Melora's arm off hers and began pacing. Her voice was low, but intense. "A demon asks you to accompany him into the presence of another, and you honestly consider it? You're walking into a trap, all of you. How you lasted this long, I don't know. Never trust a demon." Edith looked up from where she was kneeling next to Sequoia. "He's conscious." Lisha paused. Never trust a demon, for the mind of the possessed is unpredictable. She looked at Sequoia. Violent. A pile of dust lay near them, slowly spreading over the stone. No. The elf thought he was possessed. But why had he attacked the uruk-hai, and not Orloki's enemies? Why not herself? He is strong. The druid groaned and sat up slowly. He put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. The other hand still clutched the necklace, but without the desperation of before. He had already fought the demon, it seemed. And won. Edith stood. "Lisha." "Yes?" It was still hard to accustom herself to, but she had been spoken to this way before. "We must hurry." "He let Filbert go." "Ignore him," Tuulentekija said with obvious discomfort. "How will we defeat Orloki without Cain?" I wasn't sent here for this. "What say you, elf?" "We'll use him." Lisha looked around at the faces before her. Sequoia coughed. She fixed her gaze on him. "Brother?" Sequoia looked up. "Do not trust him. He, too, is tainted. What sets him apart from Filbert?" Melora looked over her shoulder at the demon. "He is useful." Lisha nodded. "Alright. Melora, Tuulentekija, tell him we will go with him. Edith, can you use my aid?" "Yes." "Then let Cain lead the way. Watch him, elf. Don't allow us to be lead astray. And if you find that simple-minded fool, do not let him run off again. Orloki will see what we make of his servants." -------------------- And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it. -The Last Pendragon Polaris = joy. In case of emergency, break glass. Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00 |
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Law Bringer
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written Thursday, January 5 2006 23:42
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OOC: I'll post again today, it's getting time. This RP is moving quickly once again; perhaps we can finish it before it gets to be half a year long. -------------------- The Encyclopaedia Ermariana <-- Now a Wiki! "Polaris leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey." --- HP Lovecraft. "I single Aran out due to his nasty temperament, and his superior intellect." --- SupaNik Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
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Master
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written Friday, January 6 2006 00:33
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Okay, I'll leave it that way then. Would anybody still want to have a translation of what Filbert said in dutch? And its allright. i won't post for some time now, or I'll at least make sure Filbert wanders around for some time. Ephesos, I didn't know you were still thinking about making a sevario of this RP! if you had said that three months ago, I would have finished those Filbert graphics long ago. So, are you still planning on making a scenario of this RP? -------------------- Thralni's almighty Avernum pages: My webpage, containing scenario's and graphics made by me (And maybe someday the homepage of the almighty chicken gods). Click here for more information on Olga's fortune teller kiosk Olga's fortune teller kiosk has been temporarily closed down, but you can contact the prophet with a PM - Was signed by the prophet of the almighty chicken gods, gods of everything that is a chicken. Work has begun on the Nephilian grammar and vocabulary guide! Posts: 3029 | Registered: Saturday, June 18 2005 07:00 |