Einheriar

[Belobog]

First comes the immobilizing shock that runs down the body, the needle point numbness coating you, stirring you awake from the nothing that preceded it. Second comes the pain of your first breath, deep and slow and burning in your chest before it becomes quicker, fainter, regular. The twitch of a muscle shoots fire through your form, and the ringing in your ears gives way to the prick of silence around you. A void surrounds you, lacking depth or form, inky black upon black swirling together to form shapes on the edge of your vision. It takes a moment for you to realize that your eyes are open.

Soon enough, you notice others: living beings, like yourself, going through all the same motions that you experienced, fighting just to get up. You notice that the whole of you arrange a circle, pointing to some center of the nothingness that contains you. Glancing at the others, you wonder what you must look like, before the memory hits you, heavy and sharp...

[Each character may be dressed as they like, even in the clothing they died in. Count this as another piece of your past life that I'm letting you build.]

[NecroRebel]

Garbed in a charred outfit of silk and wyvern-hide, a genasi woman is first to struggle to hands and knees before crying out in pain and falling onto her side. She stares at her right palm and the sigil freshly branded into it in obvious agony and shock before, shaking, she manages to tear one of the more intact bits of silk from her clothing and wrap it into a crude bandage.

There are tears in her eyes as she once again forces herself to her knees, avoiding the use of her injured hand this time, and groans out "Where did you take it? It's all mine, damn you!"

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

A throbbing pain behind the eyes makes it impossible to focus.

Ugh.

Raising his head, the doppelganger looks down at himself. He sees the body of a gaunt young man, wrapped in rags and long black hair. But it is not his body, somehow.

What...

His eyes lock on the mumbling woman, and without conscious thought his body molds itself in her image.

What's going on here?!

Even his voice has changed, pitched higher and more demanding.

[Townopolis]

Moranog

A man stirs, waking with a groan. He is tall and brawny. Fiery hair, braided and dreadlocked, forms a cushion beneath his head, then rises over his shoulders to rest upon his arms. His tan skin shifts over waking muscles as his body comes into consciousness, bit by bit, first his chest, then arms, then legs. He flexes the fingers of one large hand, then the other. He wiggles his toes. He does not move his head, but continues to stare vaguely upward after opening his eyes.

His face is angular, but strong; marked by weather, scars, and laugh lines. His jawline shows just a hint of shadow, except upon his chin, where a goatee has been left to grow wild and scruffy. He works saliva back into his mouth and moistens his lips.

A simple golden torc rests around his neck, and a silver triskelion hangs from one earlobe. Aside from these, he is naked.
And in case you were wondering... it's HUGE.

[VoxPVoxD]

what the hell man that's not cool!!!

With an inaudible grunt he pulls himself grudgingly to a sitting position. His short white hair is clean and combed, and his clothing pools about him: lightly tanned, flowing monasterial robes.

A moment passes and the man pulls himself first to one knee, and then slowly --carefully --into a standing position.

Only now does he notice the others. Benedict clears his throat and opens his mouth, and the first fragment of a word passes his lips almost before he realizes it.

"Is anyone hurt?"

[Sedar]

Daevi stares down into the emptiness before feeling his face, realizing that he has a face and how wonderful that is. A grin takes hold of his lips momentarily before he hears faint whispers in the back of his mind. It is too faint to make out clearly and after a short moment shrugs it off as a side-effect to his awakening consciousness.

His memories have been replaced by silence, but instinct helps him take a shape. He assumes the form of a tall, slim, fair-skinned, androgynous human figure. It is impossible to tell whether he is a pretty man or a handsome woman. Running his fingers along his new face to make sure it feels like he wants, Daevi struggles to his feet to assess the most important of situations, his attire.

His clothes are a simple, but stylish crimson robe fastened at the waste with a black leather belt. Underneath he wears tall, black leather boots. All materials are of the finest quality. Daevi takes another moment to admire his clothing before realizing that someone has just spoken.

"Oh, I'm quite alright. Anyone know where we are?"

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

Still wearing the genasi's features, the doppelganger staggers to his feet and clutches his head. Where did this headache come from? And why does my mouth taste like cotton balls? The pain recedes for a moment, and he regains the form of the long-haired young man with fine features.

Oh, wow. Define 'hurt'.

He chances opening one eye and peers around blearily.

Where are we and who are you people?

And then, without knowing why -

And does anybody have a drink?

[Sedar]

"Well, judging from the vast nothingness that surrounds us, I'd say..."

Daevi pauses and looks around.

"...we're in a vast nothingness. My name is Daevi, by the way, and I'm a..."

The words come out like a phrase he is used to uttering frequently, but he simply cannot remember the rest. He wrinkles his brow worriedly and grimaces.

"...I don't remember. I'm pretty sure I died. And no, I don't have any drink, but I suddenly feel like I could do with one or five."

[Townopolis]

Moranog

The naked man on the ground smiles, and his eyes slide about in their sockets as he snatches glimpses of those around him. He remains lying down.

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

Basileus lays in the darkness, feeling his heart beating once more, idly tracing patterns on the nothing beneath him, aware of the wealth of sensation flowing through him. His position was uncomfortable, his upper body twisted around, so he shifts into a less awkward position, stretching and letting out a yawn. His curiosity, freed from the dull emptiness, pondered this strange place and the others gathered him but time enough for that later. First came the matter of collecting himself, letting himself ease into the lifeflow... But then, lingering like a bitter aftertaste, there was that memory. A involuntary shiver runs through him, then he clambers to his hooves...

A wiry amalgamation of man and ram stands upright with an awkward grace, glancing in the direction of the others sleepily. His lower frame is covered with thick black and white hair. His upper frame is wrapped loosely in an old soiled toga, clipped in place with a copper leaf. His face is framed with thick sideburns and a wild goatee. His head is crowned by tousled black hair and a set of large curling horns which jut from his forehead. He wipes the sleep from his beady brown eyes then reaches for a flask tangling by a thread from his waist and raises it to his lips...only to release it with a shrug when nothing issues from the empty container.

[NecroRebel]

"Dead?!" the woman practically screams, half-standing and backing away. "I've dealt with the walking dead before, on..." she pauses, confused, and stares at her bandaged hand for a moment before straightening. "I... died. I remember dying. But I'm alive. What am I doing here?"

She looks around, really watching the blackness this time, before screaming to no one in particular, "The fires did not consume me, they could not have have taken the rest of it! It's mine! Give it back to me!"

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

Basileus makes a mild grimace at the woman's outburst, digging around in the ear closest to her for a moment. He then lets his hand fall back to his side, looking around, "This isn't quite what I imagined the afterlife to be..." Then he frowned trying to recall exactly what had he imagined the afterlife to be, he must have wondered at some point, hadn't he? Finally he shrugged, what point was there in wasting time on anything but the now anyway.

Sup, knowledge checks.
Arcana: [roll0]
Nature: [roll1]

[Belobog]

"Give it back?"

The genasi woman, and all who look her way, find the sudden appearance of a presence looming over her, an insubstantial shape that can still be perceived, in the darkness. Where the 'face' of the being would be sits an ornate obsidian mask, inlaid with gold and with two rubies for its eyes. It resembles an ibis.

"Give what back? What have we taken from you that would be so important? What have we not given to you?"

The being stops at this point, its pointed whispers fading into the aether as it simply floats away, towards the center. The presence of the thing seems to fit the area, and the endless depth of blackness is pierced by broken lines of blue, all convalescing at the occupied center. The ibis headed being tilts in thought for a moment, before it looks out at the occupants.

"Perhaps you have reconsidered in the short time since we asked you? Would you like to return to the fate you have escaped?"

[NecroRebel]

"You think you can send me to my fate, Formless One? I have survived more battles than most even dream of! Like... That time... Why can't I remember?" The genasi shakes her head, trying to clear it, but to no avail. "What... What did you give to me? What did you even ask? I remember nothing after the fire.

I couldn't have given up all that... SOME of it has to be mine still."

[Kaihaku]

"Ahhh..." Basileus breathes at the appearance of the entity, unconsciously shifting from one set of hooves to the other nervously, "I was hoping someone like you would appear, saves us the trouble of looking."

"Oh shhhhh....stop before you do something utterly stupid." He cautions the woman, taking a few tiny steps closer, a curious light in his eyes as he watches attentively. Escaped our Fates? That must be why I can't remember how to punch a hole through the fabric of this demiplane into the astral... For no apparent reason Basileus suddenly chuckles, "Was I ever able to do that, I...don't remember..." He then shrugs, "Probably doesn't matter, doesn't change anything now..."

[Belobog]

The bariaur's comments seem to have no effect on the being's composure, still bristling with the air of focused confrontation at the woman. Though its voice does not rise, the air in the void grows colder, so much so that the others can see their breath.

"How would We not, when We have sent you here? Why would We not, after you have forgotten Our contract? What mortal, selfish and greedy and desperate, would not want to avoid...this?"

A cacophony of distant screams crawls in your ears while the space begins to lighten, shades of blood red and ash grey bleeding through the void and growing stronger. Soon, you realize that the sounds and the colors come from a scene rushing at you from beneath, a scene you are quickly falling to, a vision that absorbs you in whole...

Flesh and bone melting from volcanic heat, as obese, apelike beasts tear into and gorge themselves on an endless bouquet that is your body...

A serrated scalpel severing muscle and joint with surgical stillness, serving as both medical text and casual pleasure to the circle of leering, horned faces above you...

A calcified statue, caught screaming into a storm of grey wind, before the storm wins and sends you crashing, crushing you into a powder of grey dust that soon joins its cousins...

...and the vision stops as soon as it had started, leaving you facing the creature you had just left. It slouches, as if exhausted, before it turns to the bariaur who had voiced his comments earlier.

"And why should We be important, if you have forgotten Us? Why should anything be important, when you shall forget, like every mortal before you?"

Religion DC 10: You identify the places shown as part of a collection called the 'Lower Planes'.

Religion DC 15: You identify the planes that were shown: The Abyss, Carceri, and the Grey Wastes, in that order.

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

Basileus collapses to his front knees, panting heavily at the vicious assault of the vision. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead as he dryly swallows, glancing up at the being addressing him, he opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes.

After a moment, he tries again, his voice uneven, "...the...afterlife is..." He stops, stumbling back to his hooves, "...not quite what I imagined..."

"Eh...my memory...might be bad...but you convinced me that you're important..." He runs a hand through his wild hair, "What...happens now? This demiplane seems peaceful...in comparison celestial...but I'm guessing that...fate wouldn't give us up to something so...so..."

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

The out of body experience does nothing for Losh's headache. Clutching his temples, he sinks to his knees and groans. His muffled voice is just barely audible:

Please, no more bright lights...

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

Benedict watches the scenes impassively, with brief flares of hatred at the sight of the varied fiends. When they recede into memory, he evaluates the new figure with a cautious expression.

"You took us from our gods. You took us from our rightful places in death. Why?"

[roll0]

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

"Uh...because getting eaten alive for all of eternity isn't as fun as it sounds..." Basileus offers with a shrug, "Well, I gather that's why we agreed..." He glances back at the masked figure, "...please refresh my poor mortal memory..." Why does that feel wrong. Was I mortal? I'm here, I must have been but... He hesitates for a moment, a troubled expression crossing his face, then shakes his head and continues, "Um, what were the terms...of our contract?

[Belobog]

The clucking of a tongue echoes through the void, stopping the ibis headed being in its tracks and causing it to slouch uselessly. A new figure takes form from the nothingness, a pure white humanoid figure that burns in the dark around it, sitting above its fellow. Broken white lines, alongside the blue, begin to stream towards the glowing being at its appearance. Its face is a fine porcelian mask, caught in the throws of laughter, but though its features and manner are cordial, it sounds disappointed.

"Such a disinterested response to such a show...It makes Us wonder why We make the effort at all. Of course, that is why We chose you, out of so many souls that were available." The being pauses, pondering a thought, and his voice takes on a lighter, more humble tone. "I suppose We should apologize for Our behavior; We can prove quite temperamental, especially when Our hopes run so high, and We are made to wait so long."

"As for your questions...We saved you because you asked Us to. Granted, it was on Our terms, but all the same, you accepted, and you were so desperate, so desperate...We could not refuse you. I see that despite how much you all have lost, this is a quality you have kept. As to what you agreed...tell me, how many of you are familiar with Immortals?"

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

Benedict narrows his eyes with suspicion, bringing his hands together so that his large sleeves form a single unbroken shroud. "How do we know that your word is good? How do we know we agreed to... to whatever this is?"

Religion: [roll0]

[Kaihaku]

"Uh, come on...Guy...don't go there..." Basileus groans uneasily, "...those kind of questions are just going to make this harder on all us...we're here now, just flow with it..."

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

Leaning to one side, the doppelganger whispers loudly enough to be hear by those closest to him:

Is it just me, or did the happy lady just ask the amnesiacs if they remembered something?

[NecroRebel]

The genasi woman growls angrily. "I suppose it doesn't really matter if its word is good. As long as it can pay for my services, I'll do what it wants.

Still, I've gotta have something left, right? I mean, even if I don't have a lot of money left, I'm not going to be too useful without a weapon, and this armor is going to be useless now..." To demonstrate this last point, she grabs one of her ashen shoulder guards and easily tears it off. "I'm sure I had more than one suit of armor. Maybe troll-hide, or snow bear? Something? And a weapon?"

[roll0]

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

"...uh..." Basileus scratches his head, an uneasy frown forming.

Arcana: [roll0]

"An immortal..." The frown deepens, a faint glimmer of recollection lighting in his eyes. "...a being that is created...with a perfect interdependence of spirit and flesh, so that it never ages..." He swallows, looking all the more nervous, "...an outsider? I mean, what...we...they..." He pauses to scratch an ear, collecting his few scattered fragments of remembrance, "...the kind of creature that is...called an outsider on the material plane?"

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

The tall, robed man takes a measured step towards the bariaur, never taking his eyes off the masked entity that offered question and answer. His hands tighten involuntarily into fists.

[Belobog]

The white woman laughs at the baraiur's question, shaking her head while her cackle echoes throughout the infinite darkness. "No, what We speak of is not such a simple thing. If that was all We wanted, we could take it Ourselves. Besides, they are barely alive to being with, and the soul is so difficult to remove, and...it's tiring just talking about it. Powers are no better, running from the end that comes to all creatures. A pitiful existence."

"The creatures We speak of," the being ontinues, "live mortal lives, and die mortal deaths, but do not pass on as mortals do. The soul remains, to return to the body, or to find a new one. These are no spirits, though...they return to life by their own power, changed by the journey, but always returning. What We ask of you is to kill them, and bring the soul to Us. To do so, you will kill them with this."

A grey being appears at this moment, all straight, converging lines; its face is sheer and metal, and three lines are cut in it to make up eyes and mouth. it resembles an arrow head. A blade is held in the being's hands, though it has no handle, only the curve of a cutting surface. "Such a simple task, and you have so much to gain. It's no
wonder why you chose to accept."

Suddenly, the ibis headed one whirls to face the genasi, ruby eyes alight. "And what do the dead bring with them? Incense and riches and armor? To what end would they need it?" The black-shrouded one leans in closer, an edge creeping into its voice. "Would you strongarm death itself to carry a bit of gold to their rest?"

The white one reanimates as the black one slouches once more, interrupting its rant. "We would not send you out empty-handed, of course. We are gracious, in that way."

The grey one shifts again, waving over the ground while a collection of items appears. The blade is among them.

The others are:

- A tarnished silver shield, graven with the figure of an angel on its face. Though the angel is dressed for battle, she smiles, and her arms are stretched outward, as if waiting to embrace. (Heavy Shield)

- A thick white coat, with two large pockets on the front and silver stitching. The front is splattered with dried blood. (Cloth Armor)

- An iron necklace, carved in the head of demon sticking its tongue out. It is coated in rust, and a red liquid seems to run from its tongue when touched. (Holy Symbol)

- A long spear of gold, gleaming with a light of its own. It strains the eyes to look at it, almost as if it glows brighter from the attention. (Long Spear)

- A pair of thick leather gloves. It is stitched with iron wires, and it made from many different types of hide. (Hands - Gloves)

- A flat, sheer piece of obsidian, with a leather strap that wraps around its back. Two slits are carved near the top. (Face - Mask)

"Please, feel free to take what you need...but refrain from being too greedy."

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

Benedict leans down, taking the angelic shield in both hands. He looks up at the mysterious and apparent benefactors. "Who are you? What are you called? What do you want from us?"

Religion check, to see if I can glean anything about the shield or the angel depicted: [roll0]

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

Drawn by an impossible curiosity, still clutching his head with one hand (headache!), the skinny human steps to the pile and removes the blade, hefting it in his hands.

Kill an immortal, eh? Never done that before...I think...

[NecroRebel]

"You think the dead need nothing?" The genasi woman laughs bitterly. "Those with nothing are nothing. Besides, we're hardly dead now, and your companions as much as admit that you need to give me something if I'm to do what you need, so be silent." She picks up the shining spear, squints at the light it sheds, and retrieves the mask. Once it covers her face and cuts the glare, she continues, "Much better. This should do nicely, at least until I can get a weapon from a more durable material.

"Now..." She laughs again, in genuine amusement this time, "We can see to satisfying your own greed, phantasms."

[Belobog]

"We are called Trismegistus, and We have already stated what is required of you.

"Must we spell everything for you?

[i]As Stormsend reaches out for a second item, a ringing intrudes into her head, increasing in volume and pain until the genasi ceases her actions.

VoxPVoxD:
When you touch the shield, a feeling washes over you. Words of consolation and compromise come more quickly to the mind, and the chance to seek and push peace seem stronger. The feeling passes quickly, though, leaving no trace of its existence.

[+2 to Diplomacy checks.]

NecroRebel:
When you touch the spear, the next breath you take seems deeper than the last. The light from the spear intensifies, the sounds of rustling and clanging and clopping sharpen in the ears, and the absence of smell and taste becomes so much more acute. It then fades, becoming level and calm in comparison.

[+2 to Perception checks.]

Loshar doesn't feel the dagger cut into his skin before he sees the results for himself, blood dripping to the invisible ground from his hand.

"Oh, dear," the white woman says, clicking her tongue. "We must remind ourselves that you should be very careful with that. You could take an eye out."

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

Sliding the dagger into his belt, Loshar absently wipes his bloody hand on his rags as he reaches for the gloves. If these things draw blood too, I'm gonna scream...

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

When Benedict straightens out, the heavy, solid shield balanced in his right hand, his posture is a little straighter, his bearing a little more regal. He regards the white woman with a hard expression, undaunted. "Are we to identify and track down this Immortal without any more help from you? Are we allowed no other tools to subdue him? And how exactly do you expect us to bind and carry a living soul that can return to flesh of its own accord?"

His eyes flash, and he steps toward the white lady, voice rising. "And who are you, that you can drag lost souls from their rightful place under writ and sigil but must send lackeys to slay and to take? Who are you, that your quarrel with this Immortal is so great as to furnish us with tools and raiment to carry out this task? Who are you, that you play the games of gods with the souls of men?" By now Benedict stands directly before the white lady, face tilted upward, every line and curve bent with barely restrained fury. Despite this, he now speaks very softly, almost a whisper. "And what are you going to do to us if we fail?"

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

"...oh." Basileus sighs, "I suppose this isn't going to be so easy after all..." He amples over to the pile and plucks up the mask without any pretense of forethought, "Well, it sounds like whoever this immortal fellow is has died plenty of times already, maybe they'll be all set to give up the good fight and get some rest."

[Belobog]

The white woman wags a thin finger at the man. “So impatient. You shall receive all the help We can give…like the fact that the first soul We require shall be right within your grasp, in a plane of existence known as Sigil. These tools here are merely the first step on your journey towards its capture; of course We don’t assume you shall catch him as you are. However, you all are resourceful…I’m sure you shall impress Us with just how much you can make of your surroundings. As for its capture, that why We provided the knife. If you follow what We have told you, you can only succeed.”

At the tirade that follows, though, the white woman only stares…before she burst into laughter, high pitched and shrill enough to harm the ears. Though there is no malice in her voice, a dry heat raises from the floor, a heat that you can feel inside your body. “Quarrel? We have no quarrel with these beings, no argument. We simply want to know why they exist, and We shall know that in any fashion possible. This is the most efficient, pragmatic way. Besides, why should We bloody our hands? We would gain only the soul for such an endeavor…instead, We can let you do this, and we can attend to other matters. Everyone benefits from a little hard work.” The being pauses to chuckle, and one could swear that the smile of the mask becomes sickle thin. “Now, if you would listen closely, We shall make sure you do not forget Us this time.”

The light fades enough for the darkness to take hold once more, but this time you can see the shapes that surround you fully; they are no more mere flickers in the corner of the eye. They are many; monsters of all shapes and sizes, devils and aberrations and angels, all shaped from the void. The new attention stirs them to life, the legion pounding and howling at invisible walls that put you just beyond their reach. The three figures in the center all face out, eyes glowing a uniform white, as they speak in unison.

“We are Trismegistus. Thou shalt have no other gods before Us.”

With that, the light, the sounds, the shapes fade, and the white lady resumes control, leaving the other two to hang. “And the price for failure is simple. We shall eat you.”

Vox Clamantis:
The gloves seem to writhe when you put them, as if crawling onto your hands, though the feeling is so quick you do not even see the supposed motion. They feel nothing like they look like...indeed, they feel like nothing at all.

[+2 to Thievery]

Kaihaku:
When you place the mask to your face, you feel the tide of your emotions ebb away, subsumed by an easy confidence that you can tell whomever whatever they wish to hear and they will believe it. It fades in an instant, though, leaving only a hint of the rush that came moments ago.

[+2 to Bluff]

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

"...eh..." Basileus shifts uncomfortably, holding the mask half over his face forgotten, "Well, I guess we shouldn't fail...then..."

((Come on! Where's Lust?! You can eat me anytime, baby... :( ))

[Vox Clamantis]

Loshar

The doppelganger in the form of a young man takes a moment to admire his new gloves. Then, with a sudden look of cunning, he pulls the dagger out of his belt. If I can't figure out a way to get a grip on this thing, it's worse than useless.

[Townopolis]

Moranog

The man, who has yet to rise from his reclining position, remains where he is. His eyes shift in their sockets, catching glimpses of the figures around him, but he as a body remains still.

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

The scene unfolds, and Benedict's fury is frozen in place. A wave of cold electricity ripples up his spine, crystallizing his raw emotion into something refined and focused. He feels a clarity of purpose he hadn't remembered, but could no longer live without. Beneath the awe and clarity is a profound restlessness, a steady, burning impulse to move, to make, to do. Benedict is still. He squares his shoulders. He bows his head.

"I cry your pardon."

[Belobog]

"And all is forgiven. We are understanding masters, and if you truly try, We shall be easy to please."

The two remaining items resting on the floor take on a life of their own, crawling towards new owners out of their own volition and placing themselves in the hands of those who could use them. Whether they decide to or not is up to them.

[Moranog - The Holy Symbol.
Sedar - The Coat.

If you guys decide to use them, tell me, and I'll send over what they do.]

Loshar once again tries the dagger, and the dagger does not slice through his gloves, nor does he feel any pain. However, he should feel a wetness across his fingers, a wetness that soon dries and cakes the skin underneath.

[Game shall move to next section later today.]

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

"...Sigil..." Basileus rubs his scrubby beard cluelessly.

[Belobog]

The white woman chuckles when the items find their owners, amused at the decisiveness of both the people and their possessions. "It seems that you're well suited for each other. A pleasing sight." The being's attention seems to leave the plane the others reside in, the presence of the thing leaving for a moment. "It would be prudent for you to leave now, We think. You appear ready. We hope that shall prove the case." With that, the god waves you away, and the world around you fades into darkness. The last things to leave are the masks.

The darkness holds strong to your eyes, grudgingly giving up grasp of your eyes to a few cracks of flickering light. A weight presses against your chest, your arms, your legs, making each move a struggle. Stale air and the scent of rotten meat invades your nose and mouth, and what feels like pieces of rough stone meet your skin. The light seems an arm's reach away...

Perception 15: You are buried under a pile of corpses.
DC 15 Strength check to break through.
DC 15 Acrobatics check to crawl out.

[Townopolis]

Moranog

Moranog lets the sensations sink into him for a few moments before trying to move. He turns his head and tries to lift his arms, but finds the movement far more difficult than he had first anticipated. Pain races across his body, tracing a web through his muscles, like cracks in a vase. He spasms and gulps for air, then forces his breathing to slow, gathering himself before trying again.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

Benedict realizes almost instantly where he is now, and a wave of revulsion smothers him. At first he tries to beat the bodies away from him, but the shield makes it impossible to get the proper leverage. After a moment's silent futile struggle, he uses the shield that impeded his brute force to let him wriggle out of the pile of corpses.

He gasps for air when he reaches the surface. Still panting, he looks around for the others, ready to dive back in and pull them out if need be.

Perception: [roll0]
Strength: [roll1]
Acrobatics: [roll2]

[Vox Clamantis]

'Shar

Although totally clueless as to what he's trapped in, Loshar wriggles his way to freedom with the casual ease of a circus tumbler. He mutters almost to himself as he pulls his leg free.

What the...what is this?

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

Basileus lays beneath the crushing weight for a long moment, his eyes watering at the stench then he makes one great effort to push himself free...when that fails, just barely, he collapses back with a moan. He makes a final weak attempt to wiggle free then relents, closing his eyes and trying not to breath in too deeply.

[roll0] [roll1]

[NecroRebel]

Struggling with all of her might to reach the surface is ineffectual, as the spear that is the woman's most precious - and only - possession catches in something somewhat soft. Fortunately, she is so focused on freeing it that she does not immediately notice just what she is stuck in, leaving her to wrench at the weapon free of disgust.

Trying again...
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Kaihaku]

((Ten days later...))

The weight crushing down on him, rancid stench assaulting his nostrils, Basileus musters up the energy to make another attempt to escape.

[roll0] [roll1]

...and fails utterly, sinking even lower into the dead, "Bother." Then, he takes firm grip on a putrid corpse and gritting his teeth manages finally struggle his way free of the pile. His first act upon gaining freedom is to collapse and lay breathing heavily.

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=5761972#post5761972

[Townopolis]

Moranog

Regathering his strength, Moranog tries again to get out from under the pile of... whatever kind of rotting flesh this is.


[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Belobog]

Those chosen crawl or charge their way through the wall trapping them, utilitarian stone and ash and burnt bones clattering to the floor as the more powerful members destroy the barricade in front of them. A beam of weak light, enough to fill the room, hangs down from a break in a ceiling some two stories above you; it reveals a slanted rectangular room of black iron, slight grooves and holes in the walls and floor. A steel shutter sits at the top of the room; unlike the rest of the room, it seems to be in perfect condition.

Though a large section of the room’s ceiling has crumbled away, a section of ceiling remains defiant of the destruction, and the top of a large granite slab is propped against it. Iron plating marks the slab, and is made in a similar fashion to the walls of the room you are in. Though it seems difficult, it looks like one can climb up…[DC 20 Athletics check.]

A great rent to the right of the room leads to a drop around 8’ down. A careful look tells that there is also light coming from beneath, though the only thing able to be seen from this high is a solid stone table with a number of fine tools amongst it.

[VoxPVoxD]

Benedict

Benedict takes a careful, appraising look around as he approaches the drop.

Perception: [roll0]

[NecroRebel]

The genasi woman examines the slab leading towards the roof contemptuously, then closes her eyes and spreads her arms wide. A whispering breeze flows from below, swirling about her body, before growing to a tempest and lifting her swiftly to the roof before dying down again. After quickly perusing her new surroundings, she turns back to the path downward to offer her spear and shoulders as aid.

Athletics checks to climb are for lamers. Windwalker is where it's at :smallbiggrin:

However, Aiding Another on whoever else chooses to climb up, and making a Perception check to look around.

[roll0]
[roll1](This one's an autosuccess, so... yeah)

[Townopolis]

Moranog

The tall, tattoed man crawls out from under the corpses and sits down on top of the pile, massaging life back into his body before continuing. His eyes slowly scan the room, taking in its features and the other occupants. He recognizes them from the darkness, and tucks this away in a corner of his mind.

Once he is good and ready, he crawls over to the precipice. Lying on his belly, he looks down the 8' drop, casually interested in the room below, but more intently gauging his chances of getting back up once he had descended.


12 passive perception on the room below,
(16 - Rolled in the OOC) perception to specifically gauge the difficulty of getting back up here

[Vox Clamantis]

the Drunk

Shrugging, the slender shapeshifter goes over to the slab and takes a go at climbing it towards the ceiling.

Acrobatics: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1] to do it quietly

[Kaihaku]

Basileus

Basileus sighs wearily before getting back to his hooves. He watches the others busily set to work and shakes his head softly.