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  1. - Top - End - #1
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Default Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres - Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden's death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.



    16 Arodus, AR4714 - Kenabres - Festival of Armasse

    From the look and sound of Kenabas, you would not believe it was a city existing on the edge of a demon cesspit. People have arrived from all over Golarion and with the festivities about to start, the city carries a hopeful and lively atmosphere. Training, weapons demonstrations, friendly duels, contests of skill and valor, and all sorts of drinks, song, and revelry have overcome the city. Many of todays events are taking place across the city, but the main ceremony is supposed to take place in Clydwell Plaza, the park in Old Kenabres situated between the Cathedral of St. Clydwell and the Temple of Iomedae.

    While things had gotten well underway by the time you arrived, Armasse will not to officially begin until Lord Hulrun, leader of Kenabres, had formally given the invocation at high noon. The sun lay nearly directly overhead as you make your way to the Plaza, hoping to find a good spot to take in the opening ceremony.

    Spoiler: For Reference
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  2. - Top - End - #2
    Troll in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    Quote Originally Posted by Kingzfall View Post
    For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres - Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden's death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.



    16 Arodus, AR4714 - Kenabres - Festival of Armasse

    From the look and sound of Kenabas, you would not believe it was a city existing on the edge of a demon cesspit. People have arrived from all over Golarion and with the festivities about to start, the city carries a hopeful and lively atmosphere. Training, weapons demonstrations, friendly duels, contests of skill and valor, and all sorts of drinks, song, and revelry have overcome the city. Many of todays events are taking place across the city, but the main ceremony is supposed to take place in Clydwell Plaza, the park in Old Kenabres situated between the Cathedral of St. Clydwell and the Temple of Iomedae.

    While things had gotten well underway by the time you arrived, Armasse will not to officially begin until Lord Hulrun, leader of Kenabres, had formally given the invocation at high noon. The sun lay nearly directly overhead as you make your way to the Plaza, hoping to find a good spot to take in the opening ceremony.

    Spoiler: For Reference
    Show
    The grey stone walls were stifling, if nothing else.
    It had been long... too long, since the last time he had stood within
    a temple to the gods. He had resolved within himself to pay respects
    to Blessed Iomedae and the clergy within Her hollowed walls. The dim
    light and still air was a far-cry from the world outside, filled with joy
    and life from a thousand-thousand souls, well-traveled to be here this
    day, in celebration of Armasse.

    He opened his eyes. He had spent many hours in quiet mediation yet
    the anxiety did not depart. He could find no sanctuary here, not any
    more. It was all so alien to him now, all so strange. He knew then,
    truly, he was too far gone. He had followed the Sword-Song, since the
    day he left the temple and his father. His chapel, his holy sanctuary,
    was the blessed 5 foot birth within his crimson blade's dance. Was he
    still a man of the faith? Or had he become something else. He had hoped
    to find some measure of guidance within these once-familiar grounds, but
    instead only found doubt, and that doubt birthed unease within his mind,
    within his heart. He placed his hands on his face.

    The walls seemed closer. Far too close...
    The light seemed to dim. Far too dark...
    He meakly whispered, in a voice to quiet for most to hear.
    "Oh Lord.... please show me a way. Guide me from this darkness."

    The tremor in his heart did not lesson. Nothing changed. But he felt a small fragment of his resolve return to him. It no longer mattered what he had become, all that mattered now was what he could do for others. To aid the ill, to find a way to end this cycle of death and suffering that plagued the people here. That it would enlighten him, that it would bring joy within his own life and those that had been wronged.

    He told himself that.
    Again... and again, and again...
    ...But he could feel, nothing.


    He lifted his heavy swords from the ground beside him. Their weight was the only thing familiar in this place, and their balance and heft was strangely reassuring. He ran his hand down the blade's heavy steel pommel, with a strange sense of adoration, entranced. He shook the sensation from himself, and fastened both of the blades to his baldric and belt on his right side. They overlapped and made a strange X at his flank that had become somewhat iconic in his mind. He fastened his long crimson scarf around his lower face and mouth to serve as a muffler, and cover the lower half of his face. Something about him seemed to distress others, so he had taken to covering part of his face to alleviate at least a small measure of the problem. It had given him an air of mystery, that was far preferable to some of his previous encounters. He rose to his feet, and rested his right arm across his blade's massive hilts, the long burgundy leather bands fixed upon the ends of the blade hung loosely in front of him. They were identical to Father Sipel's. Long forgotten holy text was embossed in the leather. He could not read it, for it was in some ancient elven script, but Father had told him it's meaning often, using it as context in many of his lessons, and he mentally read them each time when it met his eyes, reminding him of days long past;

    '...Beneath Thy Sovereign Light'
    '...To Bare Thy Sovereign Wrath'

    He never did find out what text Father Sipel had taken that from, or if the text had simply been upon the blade's furnishings when he acquired them. He also never discovered the complete phrase from which both those sayings were derived, perhaps they were part of the same prayer or story? Perhaps they had nothing to even do with one another, however the saying had played a major role within his life from a very early age, and so he had taken to naming his swords after it. Sovereign Light and Sovereign Wrath. He was very proud of his work, it had been the most impressive work he had ever forged, his armor was intricate and well made as well, but to produce such an exact copy of such important artifact's like Father's swords was a major achievement within his life as a Forge Priest.

    He turned sharply on his foot, securing his crimson scarf a final time, he nodded once more to the priest who he knew had been tentatively shadowing him, very obviously suspicious of such a strange man of the cloth who venerated another deity. Then he made way for the large temple doors. The doors that would leave this dreadful place, and dispel this painful silence. He placed his hands on the large ornate metal and pushed. The roar of laughter and excitement erupted forth, drowning the stillness in a river of vibrant life and energy. He walked through the portal, pushing the doors shut behind him as he went. He did not look back.

    The crowds were colorful and strange. All manner of folk had come from far-off lands, some places he would never know, and other he had only drempt of listening to far-fetched stories of daring-do, and over-practiced, elaborate songs heralded by bards. He felt a calm wash over him. No prayer, no meditation could bring him this inner peace. The quiet unspoken brilliance of life and excitement, of joy shared with friends and strangers. Nothing plagued him now, no walls cornered his mind, no haunting thoughts of his change. His feet seemed to move of their own accord, following the lifesteam of the people, compelled by it as if possessed, bringing him into approach of Clydwell Plaza.
    Something about it, felt right.... Something about it, felt wrong.

    He knew the High Lord of Kenabres, Lord Hulrun would give the invocation soon initiating the 'official' beginning of Armasse. Perhaps once, not so long ago, he would have not dared miss such an event, but in truth as he was now... He had the very resolute intention to see that he missed this festivity. He felt he had no part in it. No place there, ad-midst the people and their laughter, to share in such an important ceremony.

    He tried to stop... and he did, for a half-second.
    His body jerked forward awkwardly, as if another man wore the same cloths, or his boots had become animated. A single individual passing by noticed the strange motion, and gazed upon him inquisitively.
    He couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop him.
    It was Kain's doing.

    That final thought sent a cold chill down his spine. His mind raced, his eye's darted about to the thousands of innocents that moved, and laughed, and talked all about him. Something wasn't right. Something was wrong. Never had he been compelled so strongly. Never had he lost control, yet heard nothing. Felt nothing. It was an unknown and unique sensation he had never before experienced. A cold sweat began to build upon his brow and run down his neck. His mind cried out desperately.
    'What is it dammit! Where are you! Answer me! Why now!? Why!

    His only reply was silence.
    His body pulled him up upon a small stone pillar in the square, standing above the crowd.
    Their movement pushed and swayed, washing against and past him like waves of water.
    He could not move, his body locked ridged, like a sentinel.

    Forced to watch the invocation.
    Forced to bare witness to whatever was to transpire next.



    Spoiler: Action Summery
    Show
    [ Kwen'tel Hoth leaves the Temple of
    Iomedae, and moves to Clydwell Plaza
    Where he takes a position standing on
    a wall/post ]

  3. - Top - End - #3
    Titan in the Playground
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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    Eris

    Taking in the sights and sounds, Eris found herself ducking and weaving through the throngs of people gathering in the plaza, wondering silently to herself if everyone was pretending to be so cheerful to hide how they really felt, or if the merriment was all the stronger today because of the city's usual atmosphere. Either way, the dhampir found herself enjoying the general air of the city, politely greeting strangers, smiling at young children to show off her fangs and give them a story to tell later, once they stopped running anyway, and doing her best to ignore the slight headache that she always got when she didn't bother to lurk around in the shadows.

    Not knowing anyone in the crowd, Eris kept mostly to herself despite being surrounded, wondering about what the Armasse events were going to be. Is there going to be some sort of arcane competition? Everyone's talking about jousting and swordsmanship, but I bet none of them have seen a good Mage Duel. These people do know that Aroden was a powerful wizard before he was a god, don't they?

    It was while thinking about the dead god whose day this was celebrating that she spied a strange man clad in crimson climbing a nearby post and moves closer to investigate. Looking up, squinting to try and keep the sun out of her eyes, she calls out to him with a joking tone, "You know, most people just move closer to the speaker."
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  4. - Top - End - #4
    Orc in the Playground
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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    Arae watched the crowds slowly trickle in on the plaza. She was quite fascinated with the way the gathering of people slowly lost their individual entity, starting as a number of people each with their own agenda, not quite a group, yet explicitly part of the scenery. Then, as they started halting, congregations appeared. Slowly at first, yet as the sun crept towards noon, there were patterns. Those who were not talking, laughing or caught up in the merriment stuck out like sore thumbs, and those who mingled lost their individuality, reduced to parts of a larger entity. This was a crowd.

    The people-watching was a distraction. In truth, Arae was somewhat annoyed. Sir Petrius was late. Her jurney to Mendev might have begun on a whim of sorts, but it had not been ill-prepared. As it became increasingly clear that Aurius was returning home, Arae had done some digging around as to whom might know of his whereabouts. Her search had lead her to sir Petrius, paladin of Iomedae, and a long-time war-comrade of Aurius. She had written to him, and the two of them corresponded for a few months. Arae smiled, despite her annoyance. He had been quite obvious in his attempt to recruit her for the crusade.

    She supposed the time of their meeting might well have been part of that plan; Kenabres was certainly impressive on this day. The knights shone like a jewels, the common people laughed merrily; it reminded her of a band-stand she had once seen in Absalom. A bard would recite stories, and his partner would conjure up fantastical illusions to make the story seem real. This day had the same shine to it. Everything was grand, overblown. One had to wonder if this was just as false as the images of the band-stand.

    I should not be so acerbic. It is quite healthy for them to release the pressure.

    At any rate, the two of them had agreed to meet at the Plaza, two hours 'fore noon, the last time they'd written. She wore a blue cloak and the mark of a red, upturned sword on her shield, quite as they'd agreed upon in their writings. And so it was that Arae leaned against the wall, watching people, and getting ever more testy.

    The crowd had become a sea of faces at this point. There were surely interesting people in there, but they had all the individual weight of ants, as they milled about on the Plaza.

    And then appeared an interesting fellow.

    I wonder why he wears his scarf like that? Perhaps some deformity... or perhaps he simply affects a mysteriously intriguing air. Her lips twitched. Ah, but he has succeeded. And I tire of standing still, regardless.

    She got up from her perch against the wall, and started making her way through the crowd.

    "You know, most people just move closer to the speaker."
    "Neither of you seem alike unto 'most people'."

  5. - Top - End - #5
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Daemon

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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    At the crack of dawn, Vera prayed. It was the first thing she did every morning, as soon as she awoke. Sleep was a time for dark dreams: violent, red, fang-dreams. Vestiges of the filth that tainted her. Upon waking, she had to be pure.

    Prayer helped. The priests kept cool, clean water on hand, and she washed the last traces of sleep away. A sober face stared back at her from the water's reflection, the face of a soldier. Then she dressed, and saw to her tools.

    The mail shirt was scoured in a barrel of sand, then her blades carefully sharpened. The scraping of the whetstone was oddly soothing. Even on Armasse, her routine would not be altered.

    When she asked for orders, she received none; only to enjoy the day. Vera stiffened at first; there could never be rest, not while the Enemy still drew breath upon the soil of Avistan. But she knew better than to protest; she would maintain her vigil, a watcher in the crowd. The enemy could be lurking unseen amongst the populace. Deception was a tool they would stoop to abuse, but stalwart vigilance and faith would be her shield.

    Clad in a unremarkable hooded gray coat, Vera lost herself in the throng, veering closer to the square where the noontime announcement was to be made. She kept watch for strange figures, of which there was seemingly no shortage: scarf-clad wanderers, pale-skinned temptresses, well armed and armored figures imposing against the crowd. Vera would watch them and more besides, ever alert for signs of infiltration. There would be no levity for her, a burden she was glad to bear. Someone must be the Watcher for the Inheritor, on this a sacred day. Iomedae beared many burdens when she was mortal, a virtue worth emulating.

  6. - Top - End - #6
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    Satarus was thankful of the joyful distraction Armasse. He knew as well as any how much the celebration was needed in Kenabres. Endless crusades against endless foes, relentless and savage were no great lifters of the souls of mortals. The city was weary, and the celebration was a much needed respite from the constant skirmishes, the unceasing vigilance imposed by necessity.

    And so Satarus wandered through the crowds with a smile on his face. He was no fool; he'd read the stories and studied the history, he knew how few rewards the previous crusades had yielded, but he would not allow that to sully the celebration. The people needed this, perhaps more than they knew.

    As he wound his way through the crowd, Satarus engaged in the joy of the people, stopping to tell a joke or two, sampling candied fruit from some of the vendors, even failing spectacularly at juggling.

    As he partakes in the festivities in the plaza, Satarus cannot help but notice a small but growing group who do not seem to be enjoying themselves like the others, but rather brooding and watching over the crowd.

    As he reaches the post around which they seem to be congregating, he wraps his scarf around his face and pulls a cartoonishly surly face, then flashes a quick grin and hastily returns the scarf to how it was.

    Come, friends, join in the festivities!

    In a lower voice he says

    I could feel your tension from across the Plaza. Would you mind at least pretending to enjoy one of the only dependable causes of celebration this city ever gets to see? Morale is a bit thin on the ground, and I fear the little we do have won't last long once Armasse has passed...
    Last edited by nolongerchaos; 2014-12-11 at 01:14 AM.

  7. - Top - End - #7
    Titan in the Playground
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    Eris

    Looking back down to face Arae, the dhampir quickly gives her a once over before grinning and baring her fangs in a playful smile. Cute, but both of them look too serious, they should lighten up a little, for today anyway.

    Not one to pass on being overly dramatic when she can, Eris gives a melodramatic bow of greeting, "Well, I can't speak for our height-loving friend here, but I like to think that I am unique. But you don't seem to fit in so well either. Everyone else is all smiles and cheer, but you look like you've been stood up." Dropping the playful tone, she asks more seriously as she straightens back up, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

    I could feel your tension from across the Plaza. Would you mind at least pretending to enjoy one of the only dependable causes of celebration this city ever gets to see? Morale is a bit thin on the ground, and I fear the little we do have won't last long once Armasse has passed...
    While oblivious to the cloaked stranger's nearby presence, Eris does turn to Satarus as he makes his way into the conversation. "Oh I'm sure Scarlet and Scowling Beauty here are having plenty of fun," she says with a teasing tone, "they just don't want to admit it. If they really didn't want to be here, they'd be prowling the outskirts of town instead of watching the crowds."
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  8. - Top - End - #8
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    Mornings's Avatar

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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    He stood quietly upon the stone.
    His arms now crossed of their own accord.
    His eyes were closed in silent contemplation, that he could not move at all, but perhaps that he may find the will within himself to once again bring his body to bare, wresting control from Kain once more. Perhaps he could distract him, perhaps he could lessen his grip upon his body some how... some way. He half opened his left eye, the golden orb swept about the crowd, he seemed to be drawing some attention, if not for his awkward placement, for the deathly scowl branded across his face. He signed.
    'Brother, really must I ask?'
    'Are you a fool?'
    'Why would you place me here?'
    'Am I now to be made as some roadside attraction?'


    There was no reply.

    "You know, most people just move closer to the speaker."
    He couldn't turn his head, so his eye rolled down to the source of the voice below. A light went off in his mind.
    'Ah brilliant, at last your choice of locale' has turned against you' He motioned to speak. To.... speak. Both his eyes opened wide in alarm now. If any had been able to look upon his face, they may have noticed the look of wide eyed shock etched into his visage. It was as if steel rods had been run through his jaw, his mouth would not move, his tongue was paralyzed. A knot began to well in his thought.
    'No... no. no. no! no! NO! What is this!' What have you done to me you cur!?

    There was no reply.
    ...He began to scream.

    'Uha... AHHHHHH!... AHHHHHHHH!!!! Some one hear me! Please, someone...'
    The mental screams perhaps touched some nameless, faceless soul, but none that could aid him.
    A thought raced through his mind. There was so many people... If only, if only he could push this body off this pillar.

    He crashed into himself, within himself. Left. Right. Left.
    It was as though his body had become a cage for his soul.
    He felt their corporeal walls hold him fast.
    It was as if he had been rooted to the stone.
    He struck again. Then Again. Over and over at the same point
    within his mind like hammering a steel wall with his fist.
    He felt his body visibly flinch.

    '...Be still priest, and bare vigil this day.
    That the call of summons will soon reveal the destined.'

    His voice as always, was haunted and deep. Cryptic and unintelligible.
    His body slightly jerked, as if electricity had been bolted through his veins.
    Every muscle and tendon stood on end, the agony of it was a keen blade
    cleaving through his mind. Then.... darkness.

    His senses had grown numb, as if held in stasis, but he
    knew he was still in control. Rather It was the first time
    both of them occupied the same space... Normally he
    would be far away. What was happening to him?
    He closed his eyes.


    "Neither of you seem alike unto 'most people'."
    His eyes opened.
    His crimson gaze leveled upon the warrior.
    He could hear no song of suffering, yet he
    felt a distant sensation dance at the edge of
    his mind. If only he had been whole... perhaps
    the Gods blessed this soul as well. Perhaps she
    could sense what he could not.
    The thought intrigued him.

    "Well, I can't speak for our height-loving friend here, but I like to think that I am unique. But you don't seem to fit in so well either. Everyone else is all smiles and cheer, but you look like you've been stood up."
    "Is there anything I can do to help?"
    I could feel your tension from across the Plaza. Would you mind at least pretending to enjoy one of the only dependable causes of celebration this city ever gets to see? Morale is a bit thin on the ground, and I fear the little we do have won't last long once Armasse has passed...
    "Oh I'm sure Scarlet and Scowling Beauty here are having plenty of fun," she says with a teasing tone, "they just don't want to admit it. If they really didn't want to be here, they'd be prowling the outskirts of town instead of watching the crowds."
    He listened quietly to the dialogue, smiling under his scarf.
    Fair souls to be sure, their words weighed well with there past. There hope's. There scar's.
    Perhaps not so un-alike from this careless priest. He could provide no definite answers,
    for he had none. He simply followed the call, but he possessed the insight, the ear, to hear
    the song of the vile souls that did blend within this ocean.

    His haunting voice, was quiet.
    Yet the deep still-timber of his voice seemed to pierce the
    laughter and roiling chatter of the passing folk of strange lands.

    "Thy words ring true...

    Thou' once found. Surrounded by a thousand souls, is it best to be as most?
    As does all present seem to pay no heed, and forget their place.
    Perhaps by the pyre shall I find a toast.
    Fore'-and-to seems to bring their case.
    To wish-and-let all hear retreat's call, to find suite with haste.

    For 'er within this chest. Upon this breast.
    Lay the mantle all dark would extinguish.

    Thou' late'n hour.
    Thine betrayers will scour, the last light 'er-in the eyes of the pure."
    Last edited by Mornings; 2014-12-11 at 08:44 AM. Reason: Grammer

  9. - Top - End - #9
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    The sun has reached its peak. It’s warm rays showering down upon you and the faces of thousands of war-weary citizens. As you converse with your new acquaintance you notice the loud clamor of the crowd begins to die down to a low murmur. The press of people around you lets up slightly as they all push toward the stage. With the crowd dispersing around you, you now find that you have an excellent view to watch the ceremonies.

    The gathering goes dead silent as a tanned, aged inquisitor approaches the stage clad in shining, resplendent armor and a long sword strapped to his side. Lord Hulron Shappok, Ruler of Kenbres, ascends the stage where you see several of the city's leaders have already congregated. Hurlon approaches and shakes hands with each of these individuals before he turns toward the mass of individuals.

    Moving to the front of the stage, Lord Hulron surveys the crowd with the steeled eyes of a solider; Taking in the faces of those brave souls before him.

    Spoiler: Lord Hulrun
    Show

    Lord Hurlon clears his throat and prepares to speak.

    “Crusaders! I Welco…….”

    Something in his vision seems to steal his attention away. He narrows his eyes as he stares off into the west.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    You awaken in absolute darkness, head throbbing, ears ringing and choking dust filling the air. As you stir you can feel a light covering of dirt and gravel rolling off your skin. Bruised and battered but fundamentally unharmed. You can hear the sounds of others moving in the darkness, as well as the occasional clattering of falling rocks striking the ground and at least one set of pained grunts.

    Spoiler: Those with dark vision
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    The darkness is less of a hindrance to your darkvision, though the dust in the air and the layer of grime covering everything to make it difficult even for you to see. You seem to be in some sort of cave. The ceiling broken and rocky about 25 ft about you. Next to you, a massive pile of debris, broken rocks and chunks of masonry pile to the caves ceiling. Seven other figures begin to stir around you, though also covered are in dust and debris it's hard to identify any sort of details...

  10. - Top - End - #10
    Orc in the Playground
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    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    I... What?

    Arae tries to get to her feet in the darkness. Her shield seems to be stuck underneath something, with her arm attached. She unbuckles herself, and starts digging it out while trying to puzzle together what happened.

    You know, I had been just about to turn this day around into something pleasant. Joke's on me, it seems. Let's see... We were in the Plaza, Lord Hulon was just about to make a speech, then... Hmm. So there's rocks everywhere, other people are down here with me. It'd seem something collapsed part of the plaza? Alternatives; Illusion, teleportation, I fell unconscious (Why?) and am dreaming now.

    The most reasonable theory is that we're in some sort of cave under the plaza. What caused us to be down here? Earthquake or something really, really big. Earthquake... or a gigantic monster? Oh gods. The city is probably under attack.


    With a groan, she manages to wrestle her shield free from the rock. Fumbling a bit, she secures it to her arm.

    She stands, slowly, so that she won't bump her head if faced with a low cieling.

    "Who's there? Does anyone have some light?"
    Last edited by Ebon Dragon; 2014-12-11 at 10:38 AM.

  11. - Top - End - #11
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    '...That the call of summons will soon reveal the destined '
    Those were the last words he could clearly recall.
    It was all a blur.
    His head was spinning, as if he was falling within himself.
    Falling within the terrible dark void.

    His body writhed upon the ground, dust and rocks rolled off his body.
    His head pounded painfully. A sharp ringing sung a deafening tone in his ear.
    He opened his eyes. There was only darkness. He patted himself, making
    sure that he controlled his body once more. This was real. He was back.
    He rolled over on his side, shaking the weariness from his arms.
    'Where am I... Where am I...'
    '...Brother. Brother where are you? What happened here?'

    A familiar silence greeted him.

    He had witnessed whatever it was, that he had intended for him to see.
    Yet he could not remember. If he couldn't remember, then what had
    been the point? He beat his fist upon the ground in frustration. Now he
    was alone... alone in the dark. Perhaps this would be his grave. Perhaps.
    However, he would meet whatever fate awaited him as best he could.

    His body groaned in protest, jolts of pain ran up his legs, and his arms
    felt sluggish and heavy. He pushed himself up to a kneeling position, sliding
    out a 1-ft long iron rod from his belt. It was tipped with golden end-caps.
    It was then he heard movement somewhere within this chamber. The echo
    that carried such sound, made his location somewhat known. Whatever this
    place was, it was likely on a subterranean level. Perhaps the plaza had collapsed.
    He moved a hand to his sword defensively...

    "Who's there? Does anyone have some light?"
    The voice was feminine and familiar. His hand eased back off the hilt of his massive blade.
    He coughed, and secured his dusty scarf around his face again. It had shielded him from
    some of the debris, he'd be a fool not ensure it was maintained in such an environment.
    He chuckled gently.

    " Fear not my friend, the light of Ragathiel shall guide you from this darkness. "

    Rather then a brilliant display of divine magic, somewhat anti-climactically. He struck
    the sunrod lazily upon the ground filling the chamber in warm light, then tossed the rod
    in the direction of the women's voice.

    ...This was the Priest he had became.

    " Well met. "

  12. - Top - End - #12
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    As soon as consciousness had fully returned to her, Vera stood. A thousand questions filled her mind, but the most immediate concerns had to come first: was there an exit from this tomb? Drawing her blades, Vera paces the perimeter of the subterranean vault she found herself in. She takes note of the others trapped with her, but does not yet speak; sometimes, you learned more about a group of people merely listening.
    Last edited by CockroachTeaParty; 2014-12-11 at 11:59 AM.

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    Eris

    Quietly groaning, the dhampir tries to open her eyes with limited success. Augh, my head...what happened? The speech was starting and then...

    Shaking her head, Eris slowly sits up and looks around while doing a mental check to make sure everything's working. Well, I'm filthy and banged up a little, but everything works. And at least there are others here, maybe one of them can tell me what happened.

    "Sorry, I don't carry any torches, never needed them."
    When Kwen produces the sunrod however, she shields her eyes from the sudden bright light and finally gets a look at the people with her. "Ah, it's you all." Raising a hand to her head as if to physically fight off the throbbing in her skull, Eris takes a moment to try and put things together. After chanting a quick spell to clean herself off after lying in the dirt for gods know how long, she finally asks the obvious question. "Does anyone remember what happened? I remember we were talking and Hulron was starting his speech, but after that it's all just...blank."


    Spoiler
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    Prestidigitation!
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  14. - Top - End - #14
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    "Ow. Ow. Oooow."

    Blinking in the light of the sunrod, Satarus slowly comes to. With a sudden start, Satarus jerks upright. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Satarus regains control of his mental faculties.

    Glancing around and getting to his feet, he notes those present and their new locale, but he has more pressing concerns.

    "Is anyone hurt?"

    Spoiler
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    Satarus has gained his psionic focus.

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    He attempted to chuckle jovially. Father Sipel had done it often, and it had always put him at ease. But he could not truly feel the same emotions that had fueled Father. He could only attempt to feign it, and poorly at that. It sounded like a mix of an exhale born of desperation, and the last breath of a weary soul. It was strangely... unsettling. He could not know just how much, though he became acutely aware of just how terrible he was at emulating his father.

    "Is anyone hurt?"
    "Does anyone remember what happened? I remember we were talking and Hulron was starting his speech, but after that it's all just...blank."
    He quickly glanced about the room.

    " Ah, it appears no one has suffered greatly.
    Though I must apologize my friends, I can
    remember nothing save for entering the Clydwell Plaz- "


    He quickly took note of the warrior who had
    begun to pace the perimeter, weapons drawn
    and ready.. ready, for some unseen foe.

    His hand instinctively fell to his swords, but he stopped.
    That was not the man he needed to be now. That was not
    the man these people would require. He needed to serve
    as the light against this darkness, and guide these souls
    to salvation, to freedom. It was his duty as a priest.

    " With caution, arm and ready, that perhaps our friend
    can see and know, what I cannot. "


    He took pause.
    If battle was to find them, if he was to fall here. Let
    it be with righteous glory, with prayers upon his lips
    and conviction in his heart. He pulled the winged-sword
    from under his scarf holding it with both hands. The
    silver holy medallion brought a visceral sense of resolve
    to his spirit. He lowered his knee, and straightened his back
    then began a quiet prayer.

    " I waited patiently for my lord.
    And he inclined unto me.

    He brought me up out of a horrible pit.
    ...out of the mired clay.
    and set my feet upon the rock.
    and established my goings. "


    He stood from the ground, still bowed in humble prayer.
    His spoke now in full, clearly with volume. His resolve
    fortified with each word, he could feel his divine magic
    begin to well in his palms.

    " And he hath put a song in my mouth.
    many shall see it, and fear.

    Sacrifice and offering thou didst not desire
    Mine ears hast thou opened

    I delight to do thy will, my lord.
    Thy law is written upon my heart.
    Withhold not thou thy tender mercies from me, my lord.
    let thy loving-kindness and truth preserve me. "


    The energy had solidified within his hands, building
    to a warm radiance. He opened his palms and held
    his arms wide, a small golden light floated before him
    and dissipated into his chest.

    Spoiler: Actions
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    *Kwen'tel Casts Guidance (Time Remaining 1 min)

  16. - Top - End - #16
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    Everything rushes back to you in a flash.

    “ Lord Hulrun squints into the distance. His eyes go wide as a bright light shines from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun's shadow falls huge and distorted across the cathedral's facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion rips through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor. The force of this tremor throws Kwen from his perch.

    To the west, the fortress known as the Kite- the location of Kenabres's wardstone- vanishes. In it's place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupts into the heavens. The crowd erupts into terrified panic. Sections of ground to fall out from underneath the crowd. Unlucky revelers fall screaming into darkness. A moment later, demons begin to pour out from these newly formed rifts.

    Spoiler: Scene
    Show


    A powerful roar eminates from the crowd. A massive form erupts out of the gathering. Kenabre's greatest guardrian the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who was until a moment ago disguised as a human, takes flight. Above, another form appears, as nightmarish as the dragon is breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, gripping a flaming sword and whip. You immediately recognize the creature as Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound.

    Spoiler: Khorramzadeh
    Show


    As the ground continues to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and balor lord clash above. The fight is over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cuts deep into Terendelev's body. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiral downwards toward the crowd.

    The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one you will never forget. At that moment, a titanic demons erupts from beneath the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashes into this world. The rifts it creates shoot across the plaza. With you stuck between the fleeing citizens and the attacking demons there is no where to escape – it opens beneath your feet, plunging you into the waiting dark.

    Even as you fall, the dragon notices your plight. Through she knows she is at deaths door, she seizes her chance to save a few souls. Uttering a few arcane words and stretching out a bleeding talon toward you. You feel her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers in the wind. Yet as you fall, the last thing you see is the Storm King standing over the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving through her neck. As her severed head rolls away, the right above you slams shut, and takes you away from the light of the world above. "


    You return to your senses with a flash.

    The dust has begun to settle and the light from Kwen's sunrod gives everyone enough light to make out their surroundings. Four of the other individuals you recognize from the square moments before the calamity. Rising through from the wreckage are three other forms.

    Spoiler: The Woman
    Show

    A woman clad in leather armor grunts loudly as she pushes a piece of masonry off her leg. She stands akwardly, favoring right leg.

    Where are we? Whats going on!

    Spoiler: The Elf
    Show

    Now my dear, I'm sure everything is fine.
    You see an elven man enter into the the light. His own light shining from the tip of his staff. His his face a mass of horrific burns.

    Now if someone could produce some form of light so we can see. My magic doesn't seem to be working at the moment. Demonic influence maybe.

    He waves his staff in front of his face. Failing to see the light illuminating from it. You can plainly see that nothing remains of his eyes.

    Spoiler: The Aristocrat
    Show


    Off in the corner you you can see a pair of legs attached to a plump posterior kicking out from a grouping of debris.
    Muffled, you hear the voice of a man yelling out.
    Would you get me the bloody hell out of here!
    His legs continue to kick uselessly.


    Surveying the room, you can see the ceiling and far walls of this vast cavern recede into darkness. On one side, the wall has collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble- here and there the arms
    or legs of victims who didn't survive the fall protrude. In the back of the cavern, a disturbing shape looms . Nearly the size of a horse, what appears to be an immense black spider crouches silent
    and still on the ground, making no motion.

    Spoiler: Perception DC 11
    Show
    Judging from the smell and condition of the corpse, the spider is appears to have been dead for several days. On closer inspection, you notice two disturbing elements-a
    muffled chewing sound and a bulge wriggling inside of the spider's abdomen.


    Spoiler: Knowledge- History DC 10
    Show
    The city of Kenabres stands above several layers of underground chambers. Deep below the city, caverns skirting the upper edges of the Darklands realm of NarVoth
    have existed for ages, whereas closer to the surface, old catacombs and sewers riddle the rock. The city's explosive growth during the First Crusade saw the construction of more of these tunnels than would ever see use, and today
    they're home to outcasts, pariahs, and an unusually large number of mongrelmen
    Last edited by Kingzfall; 2014-12-11 at 05:41 PM.

  17. - Top - End - #17
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    As the memories return unbidden, Vera nearly drops her kukris in shock. By the mercy of Kenabres' greatest defender, they were still alive. And right this very instant, the city above them burned. More than ever before, time was of the essence.

    Vera keeps a wary eye on the spider in the shadows as she pulls the struggling aristocrat free of the rubble.
    "Do you have the stomach for the plain truth, mage?" she asks the burnt elven man, "This is not the time for soft coddling. This is a hard time, a desperate hour."

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show

    A perception check, particularly directed toward the spider: (1d20+5)[25]

  18. - Top - End - #18
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    Satarus quickly approaches the elf.

    "I beg your pardon, master Elf, I am a medic, trained by the church of Sarenrae. If you would permit me, I can tend to your injuries. However, I'm sorry master Elf, but I have not the skill to your mend your eyes. They appear to be damaged to the point that it will take greater magic than I am a capable of to restore to your sight. I can at the very least however bandage your injuries to help prevent infection."

    Satarus kneels down and begins rummaging through his backpack for his medical gear. As he does this, he glances at the woman who seems to be somewhat hysterical.

    "Please, madam, can you take a seat for a moment? I would be more than willing to tend to your leg once I have seen to the elf, and it would not do to injure your leg further."

  19. - Top - End - #19
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    Arae released the buttons that kept her sword secure in its scabbard during vigorious motion, drew it halfway, and then sheated it again, leaving an inch of steel bared near the crossguard. Now she could draw it in a hurry.

    She turned to face the rest of the group.

    "Do you have the stomach for the plain truth, mage?"
    "This is not the time for soft coddling. This is a hard time, a desperate hour."
    "Kenabres may well have been invaded, but times are never too desperate to seek to take time out to discern the best cause of action. Further, this cause may well involve softening the blow of hard news and offering encouragement to those as need it."
    On that tangent, I'm Arae, well met to all of you; things are going to be all right."


    She attempts to keep her voice both steady and forcefull. The last thing they needed now was argument or a panic. She should probably be productive. I'm no healer, but I could probably manage to manage to dig out that guy over there. Might lessen his screaming, too.

    As she started plying him free from the rubble, she laid plans. Or rather, she tried to get the others to do so.

    "We seem safe right now, but when we get out of here we're going to need a plan. Plans take knowledge, and I'm short on that. We obviously can't take down the big guys running around out there, but there must be something else we can do? Get civillians to safety, or maybe there are other things that need to be done in the event of an attack?"
    The invaders are demons, so they'll probably be going for the wardstone. I honestly don't know much about it. Do any of you know where it is being kept? Could it be easily moved to a safer location?"
    Last edited by Ebon Dragon; 2014-12-11 at 07:29 PM.

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    The muscles in Vera's neck slacken slightly as she realizes the giant spider is dead; the unsettling wriggling was enough that she never took her eyes off the corpse, however. She glances briefly at Arae, who spoke of plans and wardstones.

    "Did you not see fortress Kite vanish? We must assume Kenabres' wardstone is gone. There is no telling what might await us; the only plans we can lay are in the short-term. We must find our way out of these collapsed tunnels. Who among us can fight?"

  21. - Top - End - #21
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    Eris

    Clearing her head of the images as the memories flood back into her, Eris stays largely silent for the exchange that follows. Well, I came here to see demons...just didn't think I'd start with something so...big.

    While Arae and Satarus tend to the injured, Eris gives everyone assembled a once-over. The blinded elf and the lamed girl might not be able to carry their own weight if we have to fight. We'll have to go slowly if we're going to look for a way out of this, cave, I guess.

    When Vera asks if anyone can fight, the dhampir finally decides to speak up. "I'm Eris, and I'm useless with a blade, but I have a few combat viable spells at my disposal today. And you're right, a long-term plan right now is pointless, we can't help anyone until we figure out precisely where we are, how we can get back to Kenabres, and if there is a Kenabres left to get back to. That was the Storm King, in a surprise attack. Whatever happened, it isn't going to be pretty."

    Moving to Satarus' side, she continues and asks him, "But it's going to be slow going so we might as well tend to the wounded here first. I don't have any knowledge of the healing arts, but I'll do what I can. How can I help?"

    Spoiler
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    Heal is untrained for me, but I can Aid Another for Satarus' check to tend to the elf and the girl (1d20)[20]
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  22. - Top - End - #22
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    "I beg your pardon, master Elf, I am a medic, trained by the church of Sarenrae. If you would permit me, I can tend to your injuries. However, I'm sorry master Elf, but I have not the skill to your mend your eyes. They appear to be damaged to the point that it will take greater magic than I am a capable of to restore to your sight. I can at the very least however bandage your injuries to help prevent infection."
    My eyes?..... My eyes! Wait..... I remember. The dragon and storm king fell. The balor's whip..... Bloody behemoth took my eyes! He slowly lowers himself to the ground and allows Satarus to begin his work.
    Everyone, What are your occupations? How many are alive? Is there clearly a way out?

    Spoiler: Sense Motive DC 20
    Show
    It is immediately clear that the elf may be a bit insecure about his new disability and has a desire to be in control.


    Aravashnial.... Conjurer and Researcher for the Crusade....

    "Please, madam, can you take a seat for a moment? I would be more than willing to tend to your leg once I have seen to the elf, and it would not do to injure your leg further."
    But it's going to be slow going so we might as well tend to the wounded here first. I don't have any knowledge of the healing arts, but I'll do what I can. How can I help?"
    Eris Assists Satarus in treating Aravshnials burns. His eyes are completely destroyed. It seems he was dealt a only a glancing blow. A real hit probably would have taken his head off of his shoulders.

    Spoiler: Heal Check
    Show
    Heal [roll0]
    + 8 for Satarus heal.
    + 2 for Med kit
    + 5 for Crit Aid Another.


    Satarus should be thankful for Eriss assistance. It's almost hard to believe that she's not a skilled healer.
    Together you are able to clean the wounds, apply ointment to the burns, and bandage his head.
    You may be able to magically heal the burns but restoring his sight is beyond you.

    I'll be fine. I need to get to the surface an find Ira..
    She takes a step forward and collapses as she puts weight on her bad leg. She takes pained breathes until she regains her composer
    Or maybe not....
    She moves herself into a sitting position.
    Anevia.... Border Scout

    As she started plying him free from the rubble, she laid plans. Or rather, she tried to get the others to do so.
    Moving some rubble, you are able to pull out the pair of squirming legs, along with the rest of the flailing body of a short human.
    He flips over onto his back taking ragged breathes. After he catches his breath, he quickly crawls onto his knees over to Arae.

    Thank you, Thank you! Wait.... What's going on? where are we?!
    His head lurches from side to side trying to establish his location. His breathing becomes panicked.
    Please! get me out of here now! I can't be here. I need to get out. I'll pay you!
    He grasps at Arae's hand.
    Help me! He sobs.
    it's then that he notices the spider just on the edge of the light. He screams!

    KILL IT. KILL IT!
    he scrambles back word on his hands until he hits the pile of rubble. A light dusting on dirt and rubble slides down and covers him again.
    Last edited by Kingzfall; 2014-12-12 at 08:45 AM.

  23. - Top - End - #23
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    Arae sighed. The value of sharing important knowledge and trying to make advance decisions depending on what they might find later was apparently lost on her companions. It seems they'd rather charge in blind than try to think ahead. They'd have to make it up as they went along, then.
    She'd better deal with the screaming human. The noise might end up attracting some demon, if they didn't get him to shut up.

    Arae reminded herself that the man had just been through a very shocking experience.
    His world has been turned upside down, torn to pieces, and he just woke up in a strange place. Screaming is and panic the natural response; it's not him acting strange in doing so. It's the rest of us who're taking it abnormally well. Still, panic has a way of spreading.

    She crouched down near him to get closer to eye level.

    "Look, sir, that spider is already dead. It's not moving, see? She pointed in its general direction with her sword arm. Please calm down sir, there is no danger here."

    She got back up to her feet, and held out a gauntleted hand for him to take.

    "Now, up you go. What is your name? I'm Arae." Names were reassuring, everyday things. They let people put other people into neat categories, and that felt like control. The guy looked like he could use a little of that.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Diplomacy to get the human to calm down for the time being:(1d20+8)[13]
    Sense Motive on Aravashnial:(1d20+4)[10]

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    The aristocrat looks between you and the spider. A slight look of confusion across his face.

    It's dead?
    He narrows his eyes to look closer. Realization dawns and he picks himself up off the floor
    Yes.. of course it is. Good work. I assume you defended me while I was...... occupied
    He brushes himself off. A look of disgust on his face as he sees the dirty, grimy state his outfit is in.
    Horgus Gwerm, of noble house Gwerm He flicks some dirt from his hand and reaches it to you.


    A cursory look around the room will show that dust is no longer falling. At the very edge of the light you can multiple small objects glinting in the rubble.

    Eris
    Spoiler: Perception
    Show
    The spider is still very much dead, and you can still hear the occasional chewing sound and a bulge wriggling inside of the spider's abdomen. Something is definitely moving below its carapace.
    Last edited by Kingzfall; 2014-12-12 at 12:12 PM.

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    Eris

    More concerned with the injured than the frightened, Eris moves to help with the lamed girl, Anevia, while answering the blinded Aravashniel and leaving Horgus to Arae. "As to your questions, Conjurer, there are eight of us here, there seems to be a path further into whatever cave we've fallen into but the ceiling has closed in above us. I cannot speak for everyone else's professions, but I suppose I'm what most would call a Demonologist. I have to admit though, I didn't plan on starting my research so...dramatically. What's more immediately relevant is that I have my supplies with me still, and I have spells readied that can either harm or hinder anything that tries to attack us."

    At Horgus' panicked shouts, she sighs and looks in his direction but remains silent until he gives his introduction. "It might be dead, but something is eating it out from the inside, or at least I assume as much from the noises and movements coming from its abdomen. It'd be best if nobody got too close until we finish taking care of the wounded and can get past it together."

    Conjurer or no, he likely can't provide much support in a fight. Perhaps if he has prepared sufficient Summoning spells, but he won't be likely to waste them since he knows he can't prepare them again until his sight is restored. The border scout would be a great asset if she could walk, but unless that's just a sprain, and I doubt it, she's just a liability right now. And this Horgus...there's no way he'll pull his own weight. From that scream, he's never seen a fight except perhaps in a tournament.

    Shifting her gaze from him to the party one at a time, she continues. "Judging by your weapons, armor, and," when she reaches Satarus, "healing ability, I'm assuming you all know your way around a fight. The smart thing to do is stick together until we all get to the surface, there's no telling how far we fell or what's down here. Can I count on all of you?"

    Spoiler
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    Another Aid Another Heal (1d20+1)[16]
    Last edited by Desril; 2014-12-12 at 12:45 PM.
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  26. - Top - End - #26
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    "Well Aravashnial, we've done what we can for the time being. I may be able to provide some magical healing later, but I'd rather not have to consume finite resources until I can be sure there won't be a more pressing need for them.
    And thank you, Eris, did you say? I am quite grateful for your help.


    "Did you not see fortress Kite vanish? We must assume Kenabres' wardstone is gone. There is no telling what might await us; the only plans we can lay are in the short-term. We must find our way out of these collapsed tunnels. Who among us can fight?"
    "Judging by your...healing ability, I'm assuming you all know your way around a fight. The smart thing to do is stick together until we all get to the surface, there's no telling how far we fell or what's down here. Can I count on all of you?""
    My name is Satarus, and while I am fairly skilled as a medic, my actual combat capabilities aren't much to speak of, though given what we've seen, I should probably start attending to that..."

    Satarus glances up at the surroundings as he gathers his supplies and begins moving to Anevia.

    "Well, based on what happened during the battle above, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say we're probably in the old catacombs under Kenabres. I know they were built during the First Crusade, but I don't think they've had any official use for quite some time. I've no idea what we may find down here. However, if that is indeed where we are, there should almost certainly be a way back to the surface. Finding it however may be another matter entirely."

    With Eris' stellar assistance, Satarus begins to tend to Anevia's leg.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Heal check: (1d20+12)[30]

  27. - Top - End - #27
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    Daemon

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    The wounded will slow us down. Hundreds died just moments ago; they live for a reason. I will bear this burden gladly.

    Vera nods to Anevia; she vaguely recalled seeing her amongst the scouts before. It was a shame she was wounded.
    "I am Vera Castle, of the Border Scouts. While I draw breath, I will defend those of you unable to fight. We must move. Slowly, cautiously, aye, but we must move. The sooner we deal with whatever's chewing that dead spider, the better."

  28. - Top - End - #28
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    There was a stillness that held his mind.
    In flashes and fragments, the memories were beginning to
    return to him. He lowered his arms and turned away from
    the others, he could feel the warm tears run down the side
    of his face. He looked to the receding pitch-dark of the ceiling
    and closed his eyes...


    He was not remembering it. He was reliving it.

    Kain spoke his prophetic words and smiled.
    Then as quickly as he had come, he was gone.
    Gone, leaving him upon the stone to watch hell
    flood over.

    Lord Hulrun looked to the west, watching the fortress of Kite sundered to ruin, but from
    his perch he could see the tremors and fissures of abyssal miasma split the earth before
    him. Like some infernal quake. The first quake shook his footing loose, the fall of Kite.
    With the second, the earth was rent cloven and scared before him, the massive shock
    rippled through him and split the stone from which he stood, casting him to the ground.
    From the ground where he lay... the sky burned. The mystic dance of silver and flame
    above. The terrible screams about him, below. It held him in place. The battle so short.
    The battle... the massacre, so sudden. Khorramzadeh and Terendelev fell to the barren
    earth, as the ground gave way beneath him, and his body was plunged into darkness.
    Though his consciousness did not follow...

    His mind, his soul, was accosted by the voices of the dying and slain. Their terrible
    screams piercing through him and ripping through the fabrics of his being, like terrible
    bleak talons. He was within a spiraling storm of death. He could feel their pain, and
    fear drowning him, stretching his thoughts too thin, flaying his heart. His humanity,
    with each terrible fate befallen. Within this maelstrom of agony, this storm of suffering,
    he felt every scream. Every wound. Every tear. He screamed out, his spirit and heart
    breaking with sorrow, lashed by storm. Forced to live each life that was extinguished...

    He fell into darkness.
    But he could never forget.
    Never again would he forget.
    ...Of the last breath of the brave, who had fought defiantly.
    ...Of the innocents butchered beneath cruel blades.
    ...Of the screams of dying children.



    He raised his hands calmly, and whipped the tears from his face.
    He lowered his head, and looked out across the dark subterranean recess.
    His mind was still. Clear, and focused. He was perhaps more himself now
    then he had been in a very long time. He felt.... old. A weight, and sobering
    pain that seemed to touch more then just his body coursed through him.
    He looked down at his hands. Yet, they seemed so strong and young. It was
    as if he had been displaced. How long had it been he wondered. How long
    had he wandered? How long had he been down here? How long had he
    suffered in that terrible void... He listened to the voices behind him. Six...
    no. Seven, now... Perhaps. He looked over his shoulder, they were tending
    to the wounded. Perhaps five looked fit for combat. He took a survey of the
    room now that his eyes had adjusted, taking note of the condition of the spider's
    body and those around him.

    He listened to their dialogue.
    'A blind Conjurer...
    A swordswomen of Kenabres...
    A demonologist...
    A coward...
    A lame scout...
    A healer of Sarenrae...
    A boarder scout... '


    He pulled his scarf from his face... and knew despair.

    At the pinnacle of his fore-thought, he knew he could
    not save them all. Even if those who could bare arms
    defended the helpless for...hours? Days? Ad-mist the
    chaos and slaughter that awaited them above, their
    was little hope, little hope that any of them would see
    a sunrise not mired by a bleeding sky. Let alone lead
    a convoy of citizens through siege-and-fire in hope of
    finding sanctuary from a demon army.

    ...But he could not leave them.
    He would not leave them, or any man readily,
    to die in this dismal bleak hollow-of-a-grave alone...
    In darkness and terror.

    He smiled. His head once again falling back to
    gaze at the darkness. His body slackened, and
    his hands fell limp... and he knew an inner peace.
    A sense of tranquility overcame him, his spirit
    moving towards stillness.

    ...Then, if he was to die. Let it be well. Defending
    the defenseless, following the righteous path.

    He would save who he could.
    This was his finest hour.


    He turned sharply on his heel facing those about him.
    He took to each of their names immediately, as if he
    always knew them. It had been long, long since the
    days he had tended to others or carried concern for
    another in combat, yet it all seemed so familiar, as if
    he had never forgotten. He looked to them each
    individually as they were addressed;

    He spoke. His voice calm and well-versed. Yet held
    a quiet tone, that was strangely resolute, yet stagnant.
    Omitted of haste and betrayed no clear intention.


    " Hail, and well met...

    Master Aravashnial.
    Madam Anevia.
    Mistress Eris.
    Lady Arae.
    Noble Satarus.
    Lord Horgus.
    Brave Vera. "


    He looked into the eyes of each. Their names carried
    some unseen weight with their utterance that was plainly
    and evidently haunting. As if he read a eulogy, or engraved
    each into his heart.

    His eyes, were a brilliant gold, yet held the most terrible
    gaze. His eye's were not steeled like a warriors', tempered
    with conviction in battle. And not the empty eyed, stare of the
    numb and broken, who had seen to much, slowly bled of their
    humanity. No, his eye's held a haunting, dreadful weight. An
    intensity that burned into those before him, until they looked
    through them.
    Like a man who tended to the dead.
    Like a man who tended to the dying.
    Like a man that knew the weight of every life he lost as if they were a son.
    Like a man who toiled to spare the lives of others, yet could save none.
    A man who had felt every scream. Every pain. Every death. As his own.

    " I am Father Kwen'tel, a crusading priest-of-the-sword,
    trained by the Church of Ragathiel to battle the wicked
    forces of the abyss. "


    He paused...
    'Father Kwen'tel' ...how long had it been since the days he had
    used that name. That title. He truly wondered. He was a prodigy,
    trained from such a young age, he had left the seminary, ordained
    a priest so long ago. Almost a decade. Had had followed the SwordSong
    so long? Did it even still exist anymore? Now he heard not the cries
    for vengeance, but the suffering of the slain. Something had changed
    him here. Perhaps it was Kain's doing, he could not know. But he felt
    it. Felt it's weight, felt this clarity.

    The fog of doubt was lifted.
    The veil of desperation. Parted.
    He felt.... renewed.
    Reborn.

    " Our case is dire.
    Though I've no illusions of kind-fates'
    finding us standing in-health above
    fields of smitten demon-kin. By these
    swords. I will defend you, least I be
    rent-and-sundered. "
    Last edited by Mornings; 2014-12-12 at 10:05 PM. Reason: grammer

  29. - Top - End - #29
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    Planetar

    Join Date
    Oct 2014
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    Sararus is find that Anevia's leg is broken. Using splinters of wood and rope from the rubble, he is able to fashion a splint for her leg.

    My thanks. A look of sincere appreciation in her eyes

    Anevia grabs a nearby piece of timber and uses it to help herself up. She uses the piece of timber as a makeshift crutch and begins to hobble toward the blinded elf.


    Horgus Gwerm, of noble house Gwerm
    Aravashnial turns his head toward the voice.

    Gwerm? that name sounds..... Oh!..... Oh.......

    A scowl appears on Horgus's face as he sees Aravashnial and Anevia's faces. He marches over to both of them

    Oh the gods have a sense of humor do they!!! well isn't this just great! JUST GREAT! A conspiracy theorist and a thief and i'm trapped with you. Let me guess elf.... You assume I had my hand in this? You already dragged my name through the mud already! Might as well pin this on me as well, eh?.

    Spoiler: Knowledge Local DC 15
    Show
    A few months back , rumors sprung up that some of Kenabres's nobles were funding demonic agendas, and among these nobles was Horgus Gwerm. The information proved to be false.


    He turns to Anevia.

    And you. What are you going to steal this time thief! Watch you pockets around this one!Pointing a finger into her face.
    Although looks like there's enough around us for you to loot already!

    Anevias face goes red and contorts into a mask of anger. She slaps Horgus's face, leaving a large handprint on his face.

    Your not a child. Stop acting like one! Look around you and see now is not the time for a temper tantrum.

    Horgus is holds a hand up to his face. He opens his mouth to respond but quickly stops as Avenias words finally click. He grits his teeth and turns away.
    Horgus moves off to the side and kicks a rock. He's clearly no used to being talked to in such a way.

    Anevia takes a deep breath to calm herself. She turns back to the group
    It's clear if theres any fighting, we wont be able to help. My bow seems to have survived our fall. Although I seem to have lost most of my arrows.
    Aravashnial remains silent at her side, clearly a bit dazed. . Anevia elbows him a bit to get him out of his trance.
    He shakes his head and stumbles over his words. His cheeks go red showing his embarrassment

    What? oh Yes! I'll help where I can. I have spells prepared that may be of assistance. I will just need some guidance

    Anevia knods I can assist with that.

  30. - Top - End - #30
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Daemon

    Join Date
    Apr 2006
    Location
    A pie factory.
    Gender
    Male

    Default Re: Kingzfalls WotR (IC)

    Vera frowns as those she just swore to protect begin squabbling amongst themselves.
    I'll allow them one argument, for pity's sake. But any more of that behavior will need to be silenced.

    "I would know what spells you have at the ready, Aravashnial. We should inventory the resources at hand. I am best in close-quarters; I can close the distance to the spider corpse and investigate, but someone should have my back."

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