OOC -> (OOC:) This should always be at the bottom of my posts Character names -> Barburry NPC chatter -> #1"Hi, I'm Gryk." | Changed from italics to bold mid playthrough. Posts after Post #142 will display these changes. NPC thoughts -> #1 "Look at this lot of people" | Changed from bold to italics mid playthrough. Posts after Post #142 will display these changes. Hopefully I never have 3 different NPCs talking to you in the same post. My NPCs won't have inner thoughts often (typically my NPC inner thoughts is used for telepathy). I do however wish for your characters to have inner thoughts, so that I can better appeal to you and write a better story as we go. If there is a spoiler with a player character's name above it, that spoiler is information specifically for said character. If you read it and it's not your character's name, you're only ruining the fun for yourself.
During the 3rd Era and the fall of the deities Thul, burdened with his desires to record everything, sought out Iris and Sezira. Together Thul and Iris designed the Thearrothen Observatory, while Sezira took the designs, and built it. While the observatory didn't grant them the power to return home, it did grant Thul access to his tome. The three took in a handful of survivors of the fall, turning the observatory into a sanctuary. At the end of the ice age when the deities were capable of returning home, Iris anointed Archwizard Zilbern Deeplight Keeper of the Observatory. Knowing the power the observatory held, Archwizard Zilbern turned it into an academy. However, it's been 1,419 years since the deities have left Weskeilia. In that time, the southern most tip of Aelira has shattered, creating the Thearrothen Isles, and the physical form of the observatory was destroyed. Thankfully, Archwizard Zilbern took precautions and created a pocket dimension specifically for the academy. The Thearrothen Observatory is considered to be the most prestigious academy on the continent of Aelira, and arguably the entire world of Weskeilia. Being designed and built by The Loreweaver, The Oracle, and The Architect themselves certainly helps keep the high status. An invitation is required to study at the academy, and the academy itself chooses who may study within its realm.
With that being said, all of you received a mystical letter from a post-runner a month ago or so. It had a wax seal with a spyglass stamped into it. As you broke the seal and opened the letter, it was blank, but moments later, text began to write itself on the scroll. The letter invited you to study at The Thearrothen Academy. The last couple weeks you've spent making your way to Pella's Wish, the main hub town between mainland Aelira and the Thearrothen Isles in the Amithia Kingdom. From Pella's Wish, you all followed the mystical scroll, which spoke to you, directing you to the ruins of the observatory. At this point, the five of you stand amongst each other in this ruined courtyard, unsure what to do. The scroll that's been speaking telepathically to you has gone silent. Barberry, Mythe, and Vera; while looking around the ruins for any clues of what to do next, the three of you simultaneously notice a skeletal figure rustling about in a group of trees not 40 feet from you. At this moment you all hear the chattering sounds of teeth well, chattering; followed by a growling"Don't fret. He's practically harmless to you." As you notice another humanoid creature standup from a previously resting position. Coming out of the trees you notice a large roughly 6' 8" tall bipedal lion man wearing brown cotton fabric trousers, rolled up to create a pair of capris or shorts, no shirt, and a simple dark green robes. Standing beside him is a much shorter skeleton, wearing a dark green linen cloak, a dark green linen hat, dragging what appears to be a longsword behind him in the dirt. "He's friendly and completely under my control. There's nothing to worry about with him." He takes a look around at all of you "I take it you have one of these as well?" He reaches into a side pouch and pulls out a scroll, not unlike the ones you all have on you. "Sorry" he growls "I've forgotten my manners, this" as he points to the skeleton"is Chatters, and I am Gryk. It's a pleasure to meet you."
(OOC: Take this time to introduce your character to us, and describe what they look like. And of course, feel free to interact with each other and/or Gryk/Chatters or do anything else your character might do in this moment. Welcome to The Loreweaver's Sanctuary!)
Barburry raises a hand in greeting towards the lion man. Small for a firbolg, he still stood slightly over 7 ft tall. One wouldn't describe him as scrawny for his large frame, though his hands, feet and head all seemed oversized compared to his limbs and neck, creating an overall lanky appearance. There was nothing intimidating about the humbly dressed figure apart from his size. He walked with a staff that complemented the burlap shirt and trousers of varying browns, greens, and... well dirt.
He took a moment to take in the skeleton, scratching the bushy cherrywood colored beard that outlined his jaw. The same colored sat like a poofy messy atop his head and seemed to sort of move. "Settle Scritches, they offer no harm, just new magics. That's why we are here after all little one." A little ferret's head pops out from the mess of Barburry's hair before hiding once again in the mangy mane. The firbolg turns to Gryk,"Don't mind him, he is suspicious of everyone. Maybe I didn't cast the familiar spell correctly. Anyway, I am Barburry, and I do indeed have one of those." Barburry holds up his letter.
Metallic eyes narrow as Mythe stares at her surroundings, taking in the ruined courtyard she found herself in. Surely these dirty, crumbling buildings could not be the famous academy she had heard so much about? Even in simple travelling clothes the elf makes for a regal figure, carrying herself with such careful grace that there is no mistaking her noble heritage. Long pale hair falls down her back in ringlets, curling around long, pointed ears and complimenting unblemished skin that looks as if it has never faced a day of work in the sun. Her inarguably attractive face is made up of slender, elegant features - the most noticeable of which are her eyes. One a luminous gold, the other a shining silver, the elf’s striking eyes are a mismatched pair that seem much more fitted for a noble lady’s jewellery box than her face.
Pleasant features contort into a frown as Mythe looks upon the newcomers, recoiling a little when her eyes land upon the chattering skeleton. She brandishes her own letter of invitation, making sure to stay far away from Gryk and his cadaverous companion. “Mytheaian, of house Kaethius. Tell me, just what are we doing here?”
Urtrogall looks around at the decrepit buildings with passing interest, assuming (and certainly hoping) that the academy is protected by illusions or kept somewhere secret. He still has his letter out, waiting for further instructions.
Urtrogall’s belongings are a bit scorched or charred, emitting a faint burnt smell. He wears blue vestments with the symbol of a blank tome stitched onto the top. He also wears heavy armor, something uncommon for any wizard to possess, but a keepsake from his old life. Urtrogall towers over many people, being 6’7”, but he hardly looks intimidating. His brown eyes show an expression of scholarly interest in most things, especially the skeletons standing before him.
He pushes his matted black hair away from his face and while studying at the skeletons, says to the Gryk (or perhaps the skeletons?) “Pleasant to make your acquaintance! I am Urtrogall, an explorer and scholar from the west. I am very impressed by your skeletons, but for what purpose do you have them?”
An elderly woman sits atop the physical remnants of the observatory, a warm smile plastered on her face. Her skin has a pale green undertone with wrinkles visible near the corner of her eyes and a tiara like appendage decorates the temples of her head. She's dressed in simple clothing, and her gray strings of hair are tucked in a messy bun. "Me..meow". A kitten with snow-white fur attempts to draw the attention of the woman, and rubs the side of it's body against the folded part of the long dress. The woman averts her gaze briefly to pat the neck of the kitten but she keeps watching the ongoing conversation from the corner of her eyes.
"I have one of these peculiar talking scrolls too. It won't stop talking till I get here."
She displays a piece of parchment to the party while moving closer to the small group. "I'm Donavera Isemist of Viktal. You might have heard of that place, or not since a lot of people have no idea about the existence of domains of dread."
"But, someone certainly knows about our land of origins, you see. These invitation letters were sent to us. I fear it might be a practical joke!"
Hin pushes back a lock of brown, curly hair away from his face. His eyes fall on the skeleton with slight amusement, and he produces an identical letter. He steps slightly forward to address everyone in the vicinity:
"Pleased to meet you, my name is Hin. Since everyone here has the same letter, I am assuming we all were invited to study at Thearrothen Academy?"
He speaks with a thin elvish accent. He stands shorter than most here at 5'8" and of a fit weight, and despite his average stature he seems to take up a lot of space. The bush of brown hair atop his head falls down to shoulders; though curly and big, it is well-kept. Towards one side of his head, there is a single lock of curly silvery hair. He wears a beige linen shirt , dark green trousers, brown boots, and a particularly ornate necklace with an amber stone is carefully laid around his neck. The clothes are old, but cared for. On his hip he carries a belt with a few pouches. Across his chest is a bigger bag filled with books. As he steps forward, his tan skin gleams with a healthy glow, and his honey-brown eyes catch the sunlight. He looks around in slight dismay.
"Why were we sent here, of all places? There seems to be nothing here but ruins! I understand the ties to the previous academy, but I doubt anyone would teach amongst... rubble." He looks warily at the ruins around them. "I do hope we're in the right place. And now that you mention it, Donavera, it is strange that letter leading to seemingly nowhere knows where we all reside. But, I highly doubt anyone would go this far just for a 'practical joke'."
Chatters stands next to Gryk, taking time staring the five of you down with its deep, empty eye sockets. As the skeleton makes eye contact with each of you, there is a quick flicker of vibrant green light where its eyes once lived. It then looks toward Gryk and begins chattering. "Ah, I understand that" Gryk says gesturing towards you, Barburry"Chatters is very anxious around others as well, that's why they're currently under my control." Noticing your physical reaction, Mythe, Gryk once again speaks up "You're plenty safe. Even when Chatters here isn't under my control, they take a certain liking to elves. I think they might have been an elf themselves at one point." Looking towards you Urtrogall"I wouldn't say Chatters is my skeleton. They're their own skeleton?" he says with an quizzical look, before shaking his head and looking back in your direction "Chatters is free, I found them roaming aimlessly through the Vendeerwood forest, going through the motions of creating some sort of lean-to." He slams one of his large, clawed paws down on Chatter's shoulder "I did use some magic to control them at first. As we all know, an animated skeleton is very hostile, but over time I learned more about Chatters here. I don't think they were animated through necromancy. It was something else, that brought them to life. We've been traveling together for a couple months now, and upon receiving this letter, we traveled here together." Moving his gaze toward Vera and Hin"Ah, Donavera, what a wonderful companion you have there. I cannot say I've heard about any place known as the domain of dread. However, I would say we were invited to the academy. My scroll was stamped with their wax seal." Gryk pulls the scroll out of his pouch again "We've been here for a few days though, and we were getting ready to leave before the lot of you showed up." As he begins unfurling it, there is a flash of bright white light from each of your scrolls at the exact same time. As you all shake it off and open your eyes, you quickly notice, where it was once a beautiful warm, sunny day; it is now pitch black. You see the night sky, littered with stars, you see both moons, Athua and Zinniah high in the night sky and the temperature has dropped about 15 degrees. You hear once again, the voice of the scroll, speaking to you "Find the key that cannot be moved, open the door that does not exist."
Mythe
Prior to it getting extremely dark out, you noticed what appears to be elvish carved into several of the rib bones of Chatters. You were too far to be able to read it, but you saw the familiar flourish of the elven script.
"Well I'll be, I do think it's a riddle. I do love riddles. A key that cannot be moved? Well maybe it means singing in a certain key? Ooooooh, maybe a constellation!" Barburry begins to meander in a sort of absent minded stroll, staring at the stars for a connection while also trying his best to sing the word open in different tunes and languages he knows (common, elvish, and giant).
Alright Barburry, give me the two first rolls of the game! I need a performance check for your singing and and a perception check while you search the sky.
You all listen as Barburry begins singing in multiple different languages, and it is true, what they say. He is not the most talented vocalist.
Barburry
Looking up into the sky, and scanning the stars, you get a little distracted by the beautiful glimmer of the moon, Athua, and strangely enough, a shooting star.
Mythe, give me an investigation check as you search your surroundings. You have darkvision to negate the darkness, so it's a normal roll.
"Oh, this is my kind game." He rubs his hands together and starts looking around for clues, like the rest. "I wonder if there's something to activate, or if the key is just standing there, waiting to be discovered. A piece of text, maybe? An image, a rune...?" He keeps muttering, mostly to himself, as he promenades around the area.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Jack, a Changeling Artificer/Bard/Cleric/Fighter/Rogue---RynnElocin'sFrom Dusk to Dawn Amon, a Fairy Arcane Trickster---ShieldHero_'s Fractum
Make an investigation check for me as well, Hin. You do not have darkvision though, so unless you have a torch or some other way to illuminate your surroundings, your roll is at disadvantage.
Vera nods her head, then continues to speak, "Pfft, just call me Vera, young man!" Her voice sounds a bit raspy, and the tip of her nose is slightly crooked.
Surprised by the glowing scrolls and sudden change of temperature, she lets out a faint cry of astonishment while clutching her belongings. The kitten mimics the expression of the humanoid companion, but it's more scared. With quick movement, the creature takes shelter among the thick fold of Vera's dress, completely disappearing from plain view.
"Oh, that was really dramatic"-she rubs her eyes with the palm of her hands while observing the surrounding. Then she will pull a glowing orb out of her robe and start some sort of ritual when everyone else is busy trying to figure out the answer to the riddle. (Detect Magic)
”I suppose this is our test to see if we’re fit for this academy.” Urtrogall starts exploring the crumbled buildings. He also uses divine sense, just to see what shows up. ”Perhaps the key that can’t be moved is a building? Quite hard to move those. Maybe the door is some sort of invisible portal? Perhaps located in a building?” He theorizes to himself.
Hin and Mythe, as the two of you begin moving around searching for any sort of clue. Hin, you stumble a bit through the dark. The immediate change to what appears to be night has thrown you for a bit of a loop. However, Mythe, you spot a faint glow under a pile of rubble. Calling Hin over to help you, you both move branches and stone out of the way to display, what appears to be a piece of the original structure. Displayed glowingly in front of you is a small message. "With the passage visible, you may traverse." Looking around Urtrogall, you notice a faint glow, not unlike the one you see Mytheaian and Hin at. You clear the surrounding rubble, finding a short message carved into the ruins "Those who dared, must continue on. For danger lurks in the shadows."
Vera
After you spend your 10 minutes ritual casting detect magic, you watch as the familiar burst of arcane power jets away from you in an invisible, to others, wave. As it does you detect a faint aura of conjuration magic, dead in the center of these ruins you find yourself in. Additionally, several of the piles of ruble in the area glow with an abjuration aura, and three piles of ruble glow with an incantation aura. Two of these enchanted piles of ruble, you've now watched Mytheaian, Hin, and Urtrogall approach and uncover. Lastly, you detect an extremely strong magical presence from the half-orc Urtrogall, though, you can't figure out the school of magic.
(OOC: Incantation magic, is an extremely rare and extremely powerful form of magic in Weskeilia. Being from a domain of dread, you may have heard of it (I'll let you decide on that one), but you've definitely never seen it before.)
Urtrogall
With your divine sense, the only celestial, fiend, or undead you sense is Chatters. He is indeed undead. Additionally, no senses of consecrated or desecrated grounds.
Ha! I spelt it correctly this time!
Simple background
World: Weskeilia
Continent: Aelira
Kingdom: Amithia Kingdom
Location: The Thearrothen Academy, Thearrothen Isles
Date: Calsera 7th, 1419 U4
My posting key
OOC -> (OOC:) This should always be at the bottom of my posts
Character names -> Barburry
NPC chatter -> #1"Hi, I'm Gryk." | Changed from italics to bold mid playthrough. Posts after Post #142 will display these changes.
NPC thoughts -> #1 "Look at this lot of people" | Changed from bold to italics mid playthrough. Posts after Post #142 will display these changes.
Hopefully I never have 3 different NPCs talking to you in the same post.
My NPCs won't have inner thoughts often (typically my NPC inner thoughts is used for telepathy). I do however wish for your characters to have inner thoughts, so that I can better appeal to you and write a better story as we go.
If there is a spoiler with a player character's name above it, that spoiler is information specifically for said character. If you read it and it's not your character's name, you're only ruining the fun for yourself.
During the 3rd Era and the fall of the deities Thul, burdened with his desires to record everything, sought out Iris and Sezira. Together Thul and Iris designed the Thearrothen Observatory, while Sezira took the designs, and built it. While the observatory didn't grant them the power to return home, it did grant Thul access to his tome. The three took in a handful of survivors of the fall, turning the observatory into a sanctuary. At the end of the ice age when the deities were capable of returning home, Iris anointed Archwizard Zilbern Deeplight Keeper of the Observatory. Knowing the power the observatory held, Archwizard Zilbern turned it into an academy. However, it's been 1,419 years since the deities have left Weskeilia. In that time, the southern most tip of Aelira has shattered, creating the Thearrothen Isles, and the physical form of the observatory was destroyed. Thankfully, Archwizard Zilbern took precautions and created a pocket dimension specifically for the academy. The Thearrothen Observatory is considered to be the most prestigious academy on the continent of Aelira, and arguably the entire world of Weskeilia. Being designed and built by The Loreweaver, The Oracle, and The Architect themselves certainly helps keep the high status. An invitation is required to study at the academy, and the academy itself chooses who may study within its realm.
With that being said, all of you received a mystical letter from a post-runner a month ago or so. It had a wax seal with a spyglass stamped into it. As you broke the seal and opened the letter, it was blank, but moments later, text began to write itself on the scroll. The letter invited you to study at The Thearrothen Academy. The last couple weeks you've spent making your way to Pella's Wish, the main hub town between mainland Aelira and the Thearrothen Isles in the Amithia Kingdom. From Pella's Wish, you all followed the mystical scroll, which spoke to you, directing you to the ruins of the observatory. At this point, the five of you stand amongst each other in this ruined courtyard, unsure what to do. The scroll that's been speaking telepathically to you has gone silent. Barberry, Mythe, and Vera; while looking around the ruins for any clues of what to do next, the three of you simultaneously notice a skeletal figure rustling about in a group of trees not 40 feet from you. At this moment you all hear the chattering sounds of teeth well, chattering; followed by a growling"Don't fret. He's practically harmless to you." As you notice another humanoid creature standup from a previously resting position. Coming out of the trees you notice a large roughly 6' 8" tall bipedal lion man wearing brown cotton fabric trousers, rolled up to create a pair of capris or shorts, no shirt, and a simple dark green robes. Standing beside him is a much shorter skeleton, wearing a dark green linen cloak, a dark green linen hat, dragging what appears to be a longsword behind him in the dirt. "He's friendly and completely under my control. There's nothing to worry about with him." He takes a look around at all of you "I take it you have one of these as well?" He reaches into a side pouch and pulls out a scroll, not unlike the ones you all have on you. "Sorry" he growls "I've forgotten my manners, this" as he points to the skeleton"is Chatters, and I am Gryk. It's a pleasure to meet you."
(OOC: Take this time to introduce your character to us, and describe what they look like. And of course, feel free to interact with each other and/or Gryk/Chatters or do anything else your character might do in this moment. Welcome to The Loreweaver's Sanctuary!)
A Graduation to be Remembered | A Village Bathed in Crimson
Barburry raises a hand in greeting towards the lion man. Small for a firbolg, he still stood slightly over 7 ft tall. One wouldn't describe him as scrawny for his large frame, though his hands, feet and head all seemed oversized compared to his limbs and neck, creating an overall lanky appearance. There was nothing intimidating about the humbly dressed figure apart from his size. He walked with a staff that complemented the burlap shirt and trousers of varying browns, greens, and... well dirt.
He took a moment to take in the skeleton, scratching the bushy cherrywood colored beard that outlined his jaw. The same colored sat like a poofy messy atop his head and seemed to sort of move. "Settle Scritches, they offer no harm, just new magics. That's why we are here after all little one." A little ferret's head pops out from the mess of Barburry's hair before hiding once again in the mangy mane. The firbolg turns to Gryk, "Don't mind him, he is suspicious of everyone. Maybe I didn't cast the familiar spell correctly. Anyway, I am Barburry, and I do indeed have one of those." Barburry holds up his letter.
Metallic eyes narrow as Mythe stares at her surroundings, taking in the ruined courtyard she found herself in. Surely these dirty, crumbling buildings could not be the famous academy she had heard so much about?
Even in simple travelling clothes the elf makes for a regal figure, carrying herself with such careful grace that there is no mistaking her noble heritage. Long pale hair falls down her back in ringlets, curling around long, pointed ears and complimenting unblemished skin that looks as if it has never faced a day of work in the sun. Her inarguably attractive face is made up of slender, elegant features - the most noticeable of which are her eyes. One a luminous gold, the other a shining silver, the elf’s striking eyes are a mismatched pair that seem much more fitted for a noble lady’s jewellery box than her face.
Pleasant features contort into a frown as Mythe looks upon the newcomers, recoiling a little when her eyes land upon the chattering skeleton. She brandishes her own letter of invitation, making sure to stay far away from Gryk and his cadaverous companion.
“Mytheaian, of house Kaethius. Tell me, just what are we doing here?”
Urtrogall looks around at the decrepit buildings with passing interest, assuming (and certainly hoping) that the academy is protected by illusions or kept somewhere secret. He still has his letter out, waiting for further instructions.
Urtrogall’s belongings are a bit scorched or charred, emitting a faint burnt smell. He wears blue vestments with the symbol of a blank tome stitched onto the top. He also wears heavy armor, something uncommon for any wizard to possess, but a keepsake from his old life. Urtrogall towers over many people, being 6’7”, but he hardly looks intimidating. His brown eyes show an expression of scholarly interest in most things, especially the skeletons standing before him.
He pushes his matted black hair away from his face and while studying at the skeletons, says to the Gryk (or perhaps the skeletons?) “Pleasant to make your acquaintance! I am Urtrogall, an explorer and scholar from the west. I am very impressed by your skeletons, but for what purpose do you have them?”
An elderly woman sits atop the physical remnants of the observatory, a warm smile plastered on her face. Her skin has a pale green undertone with wrinkles visible near the corner of her eyes and a tiara like appendage decorates the temples of her head. She's dressed in simple clothing, and her gray strings of hair are tucked in a messy bun. "Me..meow". A kitten with snow-white fur attempts to draw the attention of the woman, and rubs the side of it's body against the folded part of the long dress. The woman averts her gaze briefly to pat the neck of the kitten but she keeps watching the ongoing conversation from the corner of her eyes.
"I have one of these peculiar talking scrolls too. It won't stop talking till I get here."
She displays a piece of parchment to the party while moving closer to the small group. "I'm Donavera Isemist of Viktal. You might have heard of that place, or not since a lot of people have no idea about the existence of domains of dread."
"But, someone certainly knows about our land of origins, you see. These invitation letters were sent to us. I fear it might be a practical joke!"
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
Hin pushes back a lock of brown, curly hair away from his face. His eyes fall on the skeleton with slight amusement, and he produces an identical letter. He steps slightly forward to address everyone in the vicinity:
"Pleased to meet you, my name is Hin. Since everyone here has the same letter, I am assuming we all were invited to study at Thearrothen Academy?"
He speaks with a thin elvish accent. He stands shorter than most here at 5'8" and of a fit weight, and despite his average stature he seems to take up a lot of space. The bush of brown hair atop his head falls down to shoulders; though curly and big, it is well-kept. Towards one side of his head, there is a single lock of curly silvery hair. He wears a beige linen shirt , dark green trousers, brown boots, and a particularly ornate necklace with an amber stone is carefully laid around his neck. The clothes are old, but cared for. On his hip he carries a belt with a few pouches. Across his chest is a bigger bag filled with books. As he steps forward, his tan skin gleams with a healthy glow, and his honey-brown eyes catch the sunlight. He looks around in slight dismay.
"Why were we sent here, of all places? There seems to be nothing here but ruins! I understand the ties to the previous academy, but I doubt anyone would teach amongst... rubble." He looks warily at the ruins around them. "I do hope we're in the right place. And now that you mention it, Donavera, it is strange that letter leading to seemingly nowhere knows where we all reside. But, I highly doubt anyone would go this far just for a 'practical joke'."
Jack, a Changeling Artificer/Bard/Cleric/Fighter/Rogue---RynnElocin's From Dusk to Dawn
Amon, a Fairy Arcane Trickster---ShieldHero_'s Fractum
I'M BACK
PFP credit goes to Mo Willems
Chatters stands next to Gryk, taking time staring the five of you down with its deep, empty eye sockets. As the skeleton makes eye contact with each of you, there is a quick flicker of vibrant green light where its eyes once lived. It then looks toward Gryk and begins chattering. "Ah, I understand that" Gryk says gesturing towards you, Barburry "Chatters is very anxious around others as well, that's why they're currently under my control." Noticing your physical reaction, Mythe, Gryk once again speaks up "You're plenty safe. Even when Chatters here isn't under my control, they take a certain liking to elves. I think they might have been an elf themselves at one point." Looking towards you Urtrogall "I wouldn't say Chatters is my skeleton. They're their own skeleton?" he says with an quizzical look, before shaking his head and looking back in your direction "Chatters is free, I found them roaming aimlessly through the Vendeerwood forest, going through the motions of creating some sort of lean-to." He slams one of his large, clawed paws down on Chatter's shoulder "I did use some magic to control them at first. As we all know, an animated skeleton is very hostile, but over time I learned more about Chatters here. I don't think they were animated through necromancy. It was something else, that brought them to life. We've been traveling together for a couple months now, and upon receiving this letter, we traveled here together." Moving his gaze toward Vera and Hin "Ah, Donavera, what a wonderful companion you have there. I cannot say I've heard about any place known as the domain of dread. However, I would say we were invited to the academy. My scroll was stamped with their wax seal." Gryk pulls the scroll out of his pouch again "We've been here for a few days though, and we were getting ready to leave before the lot of you showed up." As he begins unfurling it, there is a flash of bright white light from each of your scrolls at the exact same time. As you all shake it off and open your eyes, you quickly notice, where it was once a beautiful warm, sunny day; it is now pitch black. You see the night sky, littered with stars, you see both moons, Athua and Zinniah high in the night sky and the temperature has dropped about 15 degrees. You hear once again, the voice of the scroll, speaking to you "Find the key that cannot be moved, open the door that does not exist."
Mythe
Prior to it getting extremely dark out, you noticed what appears to be elvish carved into several of the rib bones of Chatters. You were too far to be able to read it, but you saw the familiar flourish of the elven script.
A Graduation to be Remembered | A Village Bathed in Crimson
"Well I'll be, I do think it's a riddle. I do love riddles. A key that cannot be moved? Well maybe it means singing in a certain key? Ooooooh, maybe a constellation!" Barburry begins to meander in a sort of absent minded stroll, staring at the stars for a connection while also trying his best to sing the word open in different tunes and languages he knows (common, elvish, and giant).
Barburry is not a talented singer.
Alright Barburry, give me the two first rolls of the game! I need a performance check for your singing and and a perception check while you search the sky.
A Graduation to be Remembered | A Village Bathed in Crimson
Performance 15
Perception 14
"Ah.. a riddle. I should have guessed as much."
Seemingly unstartled by the sudden change of environment, Mythe begins to investigate her surroundings, searching for some kind of clue.
You all listen as Barburry begins singing in multiple different languages, and it is true, what they say. He is not the most talented vocalist.
Barburry
Looking up into the sky, and scanning the stars, you get a little distracted by the beautiful glimmer of the moon, Athua, and strangely enough, a shooting star.
Mythe, give me an investigation check as you search your surroundings. You have darkvision to negate the darkness, so it's a normal roll.
A Graduation to be Remembered | A Village Bathed in Crimson
"Oh, this is my kind game." He rubs his hands together and starts looking around for clues, like the rest. "I wonder if there's something to activate, or if the key is just standing there, waiting to be discovered. A piece of text, maybe? An image, a rune...?" He keeps muttering, mostly to himself, as he promenades around the area.
Jack, a Changeling Artificer/Bard/Cleric/Fighter/Rogue---RynnElocin's From Dusk to Dawn
Amon, a Fairy Arcane Trickster---ShieldHero_'s Fractum
I'M BACK
PFP credit goes to Mo Willems
Make an investigation check for me as well, Hin. You do not have darkvision though, so unless you have a torch or some other way to illuminate your surroundings, your roll is at disadvantage.
A Graduation to be Remembered | A Village Bathed in Crimson
Investigation: 23
((OOC: Wow my first roll of the game is a Nat 20!))
((Oops it flagged this post after I edited it to applaud myself. Karma, I guess. I can reroll if you’d like))
Vera nods her head, then continues to speak, "Pfft, just call me Vera, young man!" Her voice sounds a bit raspy, and the tip of her nose is slightly crooked.
Surprised by the glowing scrolls and sudden change of temperature, she lets out a faint cry of astonishment while clutching her belongings. The kitten mimics the expression of the humanoid companion, but it's more scared. With quick movement, the creature takes shelter among the thick fold of Vera's dress, completely disappearing from plain view.
"Oh, that was really dramatic"- she rubs her eyes with the palm of her hands while observing the surrounding. Then she will pull a glowing orb out of her robe and start some sort of ritual when everyone else is busy trying to figure out the answer to the riddle. (Detect Magic)
InkedBee (Undead_Analyst)
Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts - Jenviel Tsumara: Fallen Aasimar- Monk|Crimson Sands of Time - Navarra Iltazyara: Human- Druid/Warlock| Bleak Prospect - Ermasnietsz: Reborn- Clockwork Soul Sorcerer
”I suppose this is our test to see if we’re fit for this academy.” Urtrogall starts exploring the crumbled buildings. He also uses divine sense, just to see what shows up. ”Perhaps the key that can’t be moved is a building? Quite hard to move those. Maybe the door is some sort of invisible portal? Perhaps located in a building?” He theorizes to himself.
Investigation: 18
Jack, a Changeling Artificer/Bard/Cleric/Fighter/Rogue---RynnElocin's From Dusk to Dawn
Amon, a Fairy Arcane Trickster---ShieldHero_'s Fractum
I'M BACK
PFP credit goes to Mo Willems
(OOC:) oops forgot at disadvantage, lemme try that again, please disregard the last roll
Investigation: 5
Jack, a Changeling Artificer/Bard/Cleric/Fighter/Rogue---RynnElocin's From Dusk to Dawn
Amon, a Fairy Arcane Trickster---ShieldHero_'s Fractum
I'M BACK
PFP credit goes to Mo Willems
Hin and Mythe, as the two of you begin moving around searching for any sort of clue. Hin, you stumble a bit through the dark. The immediate change to what appears to be night has thrown you for a bit of a loop. However, Mythe, you spot a faint glow under a pile of rubble. Calling Hin over to help you, you both move branches and stone out of the way to display, what appears to be a piece of the original structure. Displayed glowingly in front of you is a small message. "With the passage visible, you may traverse." Looking around Urtrogall, you notice a faint glow, not unlike the one you see Mytheaian and Hin at. You clear the surrounding rubble, finding a short message carved into the ruins "Those who dared, must continue on. For danger lurks in the shadows."
Vera
After you spend your 10 minutes ritual casting detect magic, you watch as the familiar burst of arcane power jets away from you in an invisible, to others, wave. As it does you detect a faint aura of conjuration magic, dead in the center of these ruins you find yourself in. Additionally, several of the piles of ruble in the area glow with an abjuration aura, and three piles of ruble glow with an incantation aura. Two of these enchanted piles of ruble, you've now watched Mytheaian, Hin, and Urtrogall approach and uncover. Lastly, you detect an extremely strong magical presence from the half-orc Urtrogall, though, you can't figure out the school of magic.
(OOC: Incantation magic, is an extremely rare and extremely powerful form of magic in Weskeilia. Being from a domain of dread, you may have heard of it (I'll let you decide on that one), but you've definitely never seen it before.)
Urtrogall
With your divine sense, the only celestial, fiend, or undead you sense is Chatters. He is indeed undead. Additionally, no senses of consecrated or desecrated grounds.
A Graduation to be Remembered | A Village Bathed in Crimson