JustinCase
the magical equivalent to the number zero
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D&D 5E [IC] THE CURSE OF AMBERSTAR
- Thread starter Archon Basileus
- Start date
Archon Basileus
First Post
[OOC: yes, the power can be used. No gestures, words or materials required, so... It's subtle enough, if that's a concern at any given time. 
]
]"You have friends among the Wellingtons Gargan? They are still a powerful family in the lands we come from, outside of this place."
Harfik offers the tidbit of information to judge not only Gargan's reaction, but mostly the one he calls Rookie. Already having guess that one to be the younger and less experienced of the welcome party, and more likely to be unable to control the subtle shifts in his body language that will give away his intent.
Harfik offers the tidbit of information to judge not only Gargan's reaction, but mostly the one he calls Rookie. Already having guess that one to be the younger and less experienced of the welcome party, and more likely to be unable to control the subtle shifts in his body language that will give away his intent.
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JustinCase
the magical equivalent to the number zero
[OOC: yes, the power can be used. No gestures, words or materials required, so... It's subtle enough, if that's a concern at any given time.
|
Aanzu remains silent as he observes the conversation, his mind going back to the strange experience of being open to the minds of Harfik and the Teraphim captain. The prince is not sure what he’s looking for, perhaps just grasping at straws. But he needs to know whether these curious being pose a threat!
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
"Fascinating. Such sharp senses." little alchemist steps forward and makes a motion with a hand watching for reactions of the seemingly blind creatures.
"Is there a way to interrupt their ritual? Or prevent souls from moving away? How do you deal with them? Where are you taking us? We have two great creatures - they cannot pass little tunnels. And will you attack Teraphim?" barrage of questions seems only way deep gnome knows how to ask anything. Once he asks one, there is essentially a stream of consciousness running over his tongue.
"Is there a way to interrupt their ritual? Or prevent souls from moving away? How do you deal with them? Where are you taking us? We have two great creatures - they cannot pass little tunnels. And will you attack Teraphim?" barrage of questions seems only way deep gnome knows how to ask anything. Once he asks one, there is essentially a stream of consciousness running over his tongue.
Archon Basileus
First Post
HARFIK
Gargan laughs lazily, licking his teeth with an open mouth.
"A few. Gargan knows how to make friends, then, oooh, he does!" - he answers, tipping his head to the side, as if to listen more intently to Harfik's words. Gargan's reaction is a mystery, but the smaller Rookie denounces what he tried to hide: not only he shows no surprise, but also he laughs cruelly as Harfik offers his piece of information. The small creature also confirms Harfik's suspicions: the lines on the floor are constantly consulted by the creature's feet and fingers, as if to denounce a certain location, despite their blindness. Odds are they took quite some time mapping the caves and drawing their way around...
AANZU
The prince searches around his own thoughts at first, but soon his consciousness falls down the strange chasm of mixed memories, from Harfik's mind to the Captain's. Instinctively, he seeks out for a layout of their attitudes, a hint that denounces their personal inclinations. Suddenly, he apprehends the instincts of the Captain, understanding fully the mongrels' dispositions. They're deliberately cruel and mostly hostile, but they can negotiate, when someone has something they want. It seems to be the case, now: they respect the strong, fear them, even, and try to strike alliances with them as often as possible. But they're prone to betray them down the road, out of spite and out of envy. For now, though, they aren't hostile, that's for sure.
[Aanzu discovers that their general behavior is neutral evil.]
THULWAR
Is there a way to interrupt their ritual? Or prevent souls from moving away? How do you deal with them? Where are you taking us? We have two great creatures - they cannot pass little tunnels. And will you attack Teraphim?
Gargan looks dazed at the storm of questions delivered by the Svirfneblin.
"Oooh-OOH! Calm down, small one! Gargan has only one mouth! I am taking you to our shaman. You'll be safe there, where spirits can't reach and undead soldiers dare not go..." - he turns and assumes everyone will follow. Moving once more on all fours, he signals with a grunt to the Rookie, who in turn takes point.
"You can stop the ritual, no doubt. Just go down and... Slay the chanters! Easier said than done, oooh, it is, oh...oho..." - he sniffs around, squatting, and continues forward.
"Mostly, we fight them in the dark. They need their eyes, they do... We... We do not." - he smiles, motioning with a pair of taloned fingers towards his blank-stare eyes. "But when the souls come, only the shaman protects... With her wards, you see.... Oho..hoho... You see. Come-come! The tunnels are large enough.... Step where we step, all will be fine... All will... be fine..." - he waves, indicating the way forward. "Come-come! We won't harm the Teraphim. Or you. Not today. Today we are on the same side... We are."
ICOSA
"We don't fear the dead.... But we are cautious... If the dead are furious.... Well, let them be... furious! Oooh, let them, hoho..." - he continues forward, leading the group through a large room, where a disjointed encampment miraculously holds up.
All around, the cryptic, blind creatures squat, listening and sniffing as they go across. Huts made out of stone, fibers and strange chitinous carapaces - giant carapaces - are sprung around. Here and there, the mongrels, statue-like, lick their lips and study smells, all blinded by some old mutation made universal. In darkness, the huts are encrusted with skulls and bones, pieces of armor, chains and weapons - no doubt trophies obtained from the dead.
"Better get a torch or something... It's about to get dark, oh-hoho..." - Gargan says before he moves on, not a hint of light nearby.
EVERYONE
The room continues for several feet, until it turns to the left, assuming the shape of an 'L'. A few more feet and it reaches a black lake of stale waters. On the other side, four half-sunken passages lead to other rooms - most of which are probably under water. Rookie stops, and Gargan signals with a snarl and an arm jab for the others to stop. In the back, a few mongrels observe the entourage cautiously.
Gargan approaches the edge of the lake and intones. "Mamma, are you there? Mamma Kith, it's Gargan! And I bring visitors!"
For a few moments, only silence covers the area, bur the mongrels ears and noses are agitated, as if something stirred within darkness. It's small at first: the waters produce the faintest waves, chocking against stone. Silently, a body rises from the fetid lake, covered in murky waters at fist, but relinquishing the wetness as it walks out.
The creature is around five feet tall. Her features aren't strange - she resembles an old orc woman. Covered in reptile skins and chitinous adornments, she glances around, her eyes as worthless as the others'. Still, she appears to be seeing. The creature's face is long and old, with a huge nose, crowned by a black wart. She leans on a finely-made staff, hiding her ugly visage under the peculiar hood.
"So.... Visitors we have..... *grunt*... Aand... How did they come here?" - she asks pragmatically.
Gargan simply steps aside, alowing the arrivals to do the talking.
@Neurotic @Shayuri @Greenmtn @JustinCase
Gargan laughs lazily, licking his teeth with an open mouth.
"A few. Gargan knows how to make friends, then, oooh, he does!" - he answers, tipping his head to the side, as if to listen more intently to Harfik's words. Gargan's reaction is a mystery, but the smaller Rookie denounces what he tried to hide: not only he shows no surprise, but also he laughs cruelly as Harfik offers his piece of information. The small creature also confirms Harfik's suspicions: the lines on the floor are constantly consulted by the creature's feet and fingers, as if to denounce a certain location, despite their blindness. Odds are they took quite some time mapping the caves and drawing their way around...
AANZU
The prince searches around his own thoughts at first, but soon his consciousness falls down the strange chasm of mixed memories, from Harfik's mind to the Captain's. Instinctively, he seeks out for a layout of their attitudes, a hint that denounces their personal inclinations. Suddenly, he apprehends the instincts of the Captain, understanding fully the mongrels' dispositions. They're deliberately cruel and mostly hostile, but they can negotiate, when someone has something they want. It seems to be the case, now: they respect the strong, fear them, even, and try to strike alliances with them as often as possible. But they're prone to betray them down the road, out of spite and out of envy. For now, though, they aren't hostile, that's for sure.
[Aanzu discovers that their general behavior is neutral evil.]
THULWAR
Is there a way to interrupt their ritual? Or prevent souls from moving away? How do you deal with them? Where are you taking us? We have two great creatures - they cannot pass little tunnels. And will you attack Teraphim?
Gargan looks dazed at the storm of questions delivered by the Svirfneblin.
"Oooh-OOH! Calm down, small one! Gargan has only one mouth! I am taking you to our shaman. You'll be safe there, where spirits can't reach and undead soldiers dare not go..." - he turns and assumes everyone will follow. Moving once more on all fours, he signals with a grunt to the Rookie, who in turn takes point.
"You can stop the ritual, no doubt. Just go down and... Slay the chanters! Easier said than done, oooh, it is, oh...oho..." - he sniffs around, squatting, and continues forward.
"Mostly, we fight them in the dark. They need their eyes, they do... We... We do not." - he smiles, motioning with a pair of taloned fingers towards his blank-stare eyes. "But when the souls come, only the shaman protects... With her wards, you see.... Oho..hoho... You see. Come-come! The tunnels are large enough.... Step where we step, all will be fine... All will... be fine..." - he waves, indicating the way forward. "Come-come! We won't harm the Teraphim. Or you. Not today. Today we are on the same side... We are."
ICOSA
"We don't fear the dead.... But we are cautious... If the dead are furious.... Well, let them be... furious! Oooh, let them, hoho..." - he continues forward, leading the group through a large room, where a disjointed encampment miraculously holds up.
All around, the cryptic, blind creatures squat, listening and sniffing as they go across. Huts made out of stone, fibers and strange chitinous carapaces - giant carapaces - are sprung around. Here and there, the mongrels, statue-like, lick their lips and study smells, all blinded by some old mutation made universal. In darkness, the huts are encrusted with skulls and bones, pieces of armor, chains and weapons - no doubt trophies obtained from the dead.
"Better get a torch or something... It's about to get dark, oh-hoho..." - Gargan says before he moves on, not a hint of light nearby.
EVERYONE
The room continues for several feet, until it turns to the left, assuming the shape of an 'L'. A few more feet and it reaches a black lake of stale waters. On the other side, four half-sunken passages lead to other rooms - most of which are probably under water. Rookie stops, and Gargan signals with a snarl and an arm jab for the others to stop. In the back, a few mongrels observe the entourage cautiously.
Gargan approaches the edge of the lake and intones. "Mamma, are you there? Mamma Kith, it's Gargan! And I bring visitors!"
For a few moments, only silence covers the area, bur the mongrels ears and noses are agitated, as if something stirred within darkness. It's small at first: the waters produce the faintest waves, chocking against stone. Silently, a body rises from the fetid lake, covered in murky waters at fist, but relinquishing the wetness as it walks out.
The creature is around five feet tall. Her features aren't strange - she resembles an old orc woman. Covered in reptile skins and chitinous adornments, she glances around, her eyes as worthless as the others'. Still, she appears to be seeing. The creature's face is long and old, with a huge nose, crowned by a black wart. She leans on a finely-made staff, hiding her ugly visage under the peculiar hood.
"So.... Visitors we have..... *grunt*... Aand... How did they come here?" - she asks pragmatically.
Gargan simply steps aside, alowing the arrivals to do the talking.
@Neurotic @Shayuri @Greenmtn @JustinCase
JustinCase
the magical equivalent to the number zero
Aanzu ponders. It seems for the moment the goals of these mongrels are aligned with their own, but the dragonborn is certain they will eventually betray him and his.
Trying this mental connection to Harfik and the Teraphim commander, Aanzu attempt to 'shout' mentally at the others that he wants to see where this is going but to be wary of the inevitable dagger in the back.
The prince lets Gargan guide him and the others to the dark lake, and he proudly walks first behind the blind creature. His hands never leave his sword hilt, and his fingers ache as the woman emerges from the water.
"Like a dragon that burrows through the burning sands, and through the insignificant pests that stand in the way," Aanzu says with conviction. He looks around the woman as if expecting something else to follow her.
"Where is your shaman, orc?"
It is not immediately obvious if Aanzu misinterprets the situation, or merely appears to do so to gain the upper hand in the exchange.
Trying this mental connection to Harfik and the Teraphim commander, Aanzu attempt to 'shout' mentally at the others that he wants to see where this is going but to be wary of the inevitable dagger in the back.
The prince lets Gargan guide him and the others to the dark lake, and he proudly walks first behind the blind creature. His hands never leave his sword hilt, and his fingers ache as the woman emerges from the water.
"Like a dragon that burrows through the burning sands, and through the insignificant pests that stand in the way," Aanzu says with conviction. He looks around the woman as if expecting something else to follow her.
"Where is your shaman, orc?"
It is not immediately obvious if Aanzu misinterprets the situation, or merely appears to do so to gain the upper hand in the exchange.
Harfik Human Monk
"Greetings." Harfik speaks up in a friendly tone.
"We come from outside of this mountain, and have traveled through this place to seek it's leaders to open communications long cut off in hopes that both sides can become better."
Harfik still holds the sword in his hand, point down at the ground in case anyone here can indeed see, he wants them to understand that he is not looking for a fight.
"Greetings." Harfik speaks up in a friendly tone.
"We come from outside of this mountain, and have traveled through this place to seek it's leaders to open communications long cut off in hopes that both sides can become better."
Harfik still holds the sword in his hand, point down at the ground in case anyone here can indeed see, he wants them to understand that he is not looking for a fight.
Archon Basileus
First Post
"You're talking to her, outsider." - she answers with no pride or spite. "You are indeed strangers. Such interesting stories you should have..." - she studies the arrivals with her ears and nose, leaving her blanl, useless eyes to wander.
"Outside, you say?" - the information seems to pique her interest. "Ah, but you must tell me your stories, then! Tell me who do you seek, and I may be able to help you, yet!" - she smiles a half-toothless smile, fanged where the teeth remain, still.
The others simply wait, Gargan and rookie standing aside.
@Neurotic @Greenmtn @Shayuri @JustinCase
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