"She's going to need more than just me if this place turns to ash beneath her..." Kyne grumbles back, but the sentiment is appreciated, and, together with Moltaris, he beats a hasty retreat up the stairs.
"Last time y'all came across a magically protected door, you two through a hunter at it. We don't have any live creatures this time around, but we do have a dead body back there to possibly trigger this one..?"
"He deserved that though" Lyreis mumbles to himself "Would this trap kill me? I am probably the most resilient of us, who is not a vampire" He asks Seb, whilst looking at Lord Thinderand, and drawing a potion of healing from his belt. "If it does you could feed me this?" He prepares to move towards the secret door.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
"It is a pragmatic choice, if you die then it was all for nothing, I may be strong enough to withstand it, you believe what is in the room is worth the risk, that is all I need to hear. Enough words, if anyone has a way of making of granting me protection from the spell then do so now, otherwise be ready to heal me." He passes the potion of healing to Seb "Ancestors watch over me."
If nobody interjects he will then move to the space and attempt to pass through the door, ready to dodge anything if it will help!
"Whoa, hold on there!"Hurosk says as the brave elf approaches the door. "Why don't you let us back out of here. No point in all of us getting hit if it fills this hallway with fire or something." He begins to back out of the hall. "Good luck!"
"Perhaps we could set it off from range instead. If we had a few minutes I would summon a magical entity to do it. Perhaps a well placed arrow could serve as well though..."
"Well in that case, let me be moving out of the way too." Lyreis thi ks about drawing his own bow but knows that Hurosk is the better shot and grips his scimitars instead. "Take the shot ranger" he calls quietly over his shoulder.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Hurosk peeks his head from around the corner. "Well clear out then! I can give that a go. Seems that we don't have a lot of time before this place burns up around us."The ranger is already drawing his arrow waiting for the last one to get to an area of protection.
Seb'riel leaves the little doll at the womans side and then she channel her magic directly to the brain of the creature.
The head inmediatly turns pale then a blueish tone takes hold before the whole body starts to change color. Instead of ashes the vampire turns into snowflakes that a sudden gust of wind disperses over the room.
They all can hear a faint child's giggle as the vampire finds her true death.
Then Moltaris and Kyne come upstaris, covered in sweat and with soot on ther faces and informs that the fire is out fo control now.
Seb'riel guides to others towards the santa sanctorum of Morlainne and she points them to the secret door, then to the two sigils that still stand in the stone.
They discuss while they walk towards it and in front of it.
Hurosk gets his bow ready but Lord Thrinderand puts a hand on his arm and lowers his bow.
"Let me try something first." he ask.
He reaches towards the door and, cautiously touches it. For a moment the two sigils start to glow but he closes his eyes, concentrating and grabs his sword with a firm grip.
Both sigils dissipates in a spark of light and smoke.
" There you are "he says " I cannot open it I am afraid but I am pretty sure that you are more than capable of do that. Come now, it's safe, at least from the magics it has. " he says looking to Mathilda.
Trying not to blush too much she walks and works fast, for the temperature is increasing and they all can hear the flames already in the stage below. They don't know how much the tower will hold together.
The rogue works fast, and is again grateful for their benefactor, for his last sentence made her look for more mundane traps, and found one. It seems that there is some gas hidden in a leather sack inside the wall. If opened without the proper key, a stone will fall into the sack and it will release it's content. But now that Mathilda knows it is there is easy for her to open the lock, a complicated one she can't help to ponder where Morlainne found it, without activating it.
The door slides to one side and they finally gain access to Morlainne's room.
Elegant and with the better furniture they have ever seen, they move quickly and find a chest that can be carried by two of them so they desire. In a table Seb'riel finds her notes and her spellbook.
There are some small concentration of water in one side of the room, it seems that she tried the powers of the staff there. They also found a silver key with a delicate chain to have it over someone's neck.
There are some personal items and letters but they do not have more time to look into them.
The heat is increasing and they start to see flames running across the ceiling. There are no windows in this room.
They go back to the corridor and see that the flames are already in that level. It seems that the circular disposition of the tower and the corridors are venting the fire like if it was a chimmey. And they are in the way.
Running, coughing and sweating, they go upstaris, even breathing hurts with the extremely heat of the corridor.
There is a rumble and the whole tower shakes. Some of the structure is falling. They reach the top of the tower and close the manhole they use to go up.
The fresh air of the night gives them a more needed breath but their situation is complicated. Roaring flames sprout from the windows of the tower, the smoke fill their eyes of tears and makes it even harder to see.
They start to weight their options but none seems to be perfect or fast enough.
Kyne looks around in frustration. Hurosk refuses to accept that they all are going to die after all and grunts looking down with Lyreis trying to see if they could reach the nearest trees jumping.
Lord Thrinderand, still calm, cleave with his sword trought the stone and makes a sinlge, circular movement, carving a perfect circle on the stone.
"Step inside" he simply says.
Even as they start to comply the silver and blue light that brought them to the island started to shine again. Mathilda fears that it was too late, for the roof start to crumble and fall to the fire below it.
Seb'riel hopes that he hurries for she knows that, without the circle in the stone the spell will fail.
One by one, the stones of the ceiling fall, and the light continues to intensify. Lireys jumps just in time when the floor dissapears below him and enters the circle when the light reaches its brightest intensity. The roar of the flames mixed with the crumbling of the stone fills everyone's ears as they are blinded by the light.
There is a dizzling feeling.
And they all feel solid ground under their feet again. Stading at the roof of the Golden Sphynx, in the middle of the circle Lord Thrinderand created only an hour ago. The fresh and moist air of the city and the lake feels good to all as they realized that they had finally escaped.
Hurosk strains from below as he pushes the chest out with Kyne onto the roof. "Whew... I hope this is more than her wardrobe!"The ranger paces from side to side of the roof, looking for a way of escape. "So, you're two-for-two on burning buildings so far." He waves his arms as the smoke billows around them.
"I think we can make it," he declares to the group with confidence. "I'm not gonna die from some flames after having vampires and wolves biting at my neck. No, sir!" He moves to push the chest from the roof but stops his efforts as the vampire lord begins his teleportation ritual. "Or we could do that!"Wincing as the sounds of the tower beginning to give way, he looks down at his shimmering dragonmark. We're cutting it close again, Dol Dronn.
When he opens his eyes and finds they are safe atop the roof of the Sphynx, Hurosk lets out a long heavy breath. "That sure was... an adventure."Having taken a moment to allow the relative calm of the quiet little town to wash over him, he walks towards the edge to the roof, peering to the mountains to the south.
"So," he addresses Thinderand, "what do you know about any dragons in those mountains?"
The vampire rises an eyebrown at Hurosk question. If something he has surprised him.
" I think that you better go down and get some rest. You will have suites here at the Sphynx at your disposal if you choose to remain here. The facilities are at your service. We could talk more tomorrow night for I must retire now. "the faint light on the east make you acknowledge of the hour. Your incursion on the potato island was intense and brief, but you took your time in your previous talk with Lord Thinderand and your own preparations. "But to ease your mind I do know of a brass dragon living there. Now if you´ll excuse me... "he slightly bows to them and walks back into the fog and over the edge of the roof, dissapearing.
"I have to say he knows how to make an exit."Lyreis walks towards the edge himself, near to Hurosk. "I think he was right though, let the morning bring new challenges, tonight we should celebrate our great victory, we have done a truly good thing and if the bards do not know to sing of us then it is their loss, and something to correct." he adds the last we a smile.
As he looks out into the fog the battlemaster smiles, reliving the battles in his mind, the group were strong they could achieve much, he was certain.
"I think we should..."his next words catch in his throat, a stabbing pain running up his arm, through his shoulder and into his neck, feeling like lightning surging through his veins. "I...I...think I might need to rest a moment" the elf drops to a knee for a few seconds as the pain subsides. Standing with an obvious effort he speaks to nobody in particular as he heads down towards the rooms "I may save the drinks for another time, I think the teleportation has unsettled me. I will feel better in the morning, enjoy yourselves." Gripping his scimitars until his knuckles are white he leaves the roof.
As soon as he is out of sight of the others the pain flares again, his skin feeling like it is burning under a lightning touch around his shoulder and neck. He stumbles on the stairs, catches his balance and continues quickly, moving down until he can find a member of the staff who can direct him to the rooms that Lord Thinderand has reserved for them. Each moment feels like an hour to Lyreis until eventually he can close the door to the room he has been steered towards. As soon as he does he slumps against it, sliding down to the floor the exquisite weapon falling from his hand to make a small metallic note as the blades touch down. Controlling his breathing, he attempts to calm himself but peace will not come, meditative techniques he has honed over decades are useless as the pain spikes again, standing he heads to a mirror, removing his armour and tunic as he does, the items left strewn across the floor. Standing in front of the glass his breath is taken from him, across his shoulder moving up across his neck is a series of glyphs creating a strange symbol. His many years of life have brought him into contact with Dragonmarks before and it reminds him of them, but it is not like those he has seen before. This design looks broken and chaotic, the lines abstract and lacking focus to his eye. As he looks at in as a reflection a pulse of energy moves through it and he feels the sting across his body as it travels.
Angry at this invasion of his body he looks around the room, he sees a bottle of spirits and thinks of taking it and reaches out. Before he knows what is happening the outstretched fingers are crackling with the energy of the storm, a surge of lightning lashes out towards the bottle and those next to it and suddenly they leap towards him, confused he raises his other hand to stop them just as the energy proves too much for the delicate glassware and the bottles explode. Now he nearly panics as he seems to have launched a storm of jagged glass straight at himself. As it looks as though he will be savagely sliced by the glass a pulse of a different nature erupts from the other hand. Eyes wide he sees the glass strike a shield of swirling force and the moment seems to freeze.
Senses overwhelmed Lyreis doesn't know whether to focus on the lightning, the force shield or the stabbing pain flaring in his neck as the mark flashes. The shards of glass slip to the floor as the lightning ends and a couple of seconds later the shield dissipates too, the pain subsides and the elf is left staring at a room suddenly covered in broken glass and spirits, the smell already creeping into his nostrils. "Grandfather, what am I becoming...?" he speaks to the air as he looks around for some way to clean the mess before the others have any reason to see it.
After the room is cleared and the window left open to allow for the smell to disperse Lyreis stares at his shoulder in the mirror for what feels like half the morning, eventually he puts on his tunic to cover it as much as possible, his long hair hiding most of the rest of it. He goes to the bed, sleep finds him quickly but it is not a kindly rest, as he sinks into the deeper reaches of sleep the battle begins, a darkness so black that he feels like he has been robbed of his eyes is the beginning, then a spark of light, swelling, incandescent gradually dominates his vision until the darkness is banished and all that remains is a gigantic golden eye with a vertical slit holding him in place with it's power. A voice comes from nowhere the resonance shaking his teeth in their sockets "DISCOVER. HELP." Coming to he finds himself on the floor, half the room away, but within touching distance of his scimitars. As his hand reaches out the power of the blade seems to banish the presence, calm descends over the elf. He has no idea how long he slept, hours or minutes or days, the sun seems to indicate he slept for hours at most but he feels stronger, rejuvenated, the power coming from the mark is there like a reservoir but it feels more stable than before he slept. With many questions in his mind he prepares himself to leave the room.
Mathilda coughs from the smoke and stumbles slightly as they appear back at the Golden Sphynx. She stares after Lord Thrinderand as he leaves, thinking that he has just saved her life for a third time. A leaden tiredness comes over her. Even though she feels proud about what they have achieved, not least because she managed to open the special door and kill a vampire, and Thrinderand was there to watch her succeed - did I really do that, I KILLED a vampire? She smiles an exhausted smile and declares herself ready for a bath, a quick bite and some sleep.
When Lyreis has spoken, her eyes shine a little and she asks timidly: "Do you really think someone would make a song about us?" The elf leaves without answering, seemingly suddenly unwell, and Mathilda worries if he will be alright. They were taking the brunt of the attacks while I was hiding up in the trees... She looks at her feet. "Is everyone else okay?"
"I'm in no hurry to go running off again. Just wanted to ask since it's been bothering me since I felt...,"Hurosk cuts off as the fighter is brought to his knees. He reaches out to offer some needed support. "Yeah, you go take care of yourself."
"Feeling well, here. Just a little sore. Nothing a few drinks and night's rest won't cure."The half-orc waves a hand for Mathilda to proceed. "Care to join me..?"He suddenly realizes the unintended implication. "Uh...uhm.. For a drink that is."
"I smell like burnt cat, but otherwise, I think I am well," Moltaris grouses as the teleportation circle closes and the pre-dawn atmosphere embraces her. Her sarcasm masks her disorientation - it takes a moment for the cleric to process that they're so suddenly out of danger. She coughs several times and spits up an ashy lungful of phlegm onto the rooftop. "Ugh - I hope that was ash from the barn," she murmurs as she looks to the others. She opens her mouth to speak to the vampire lord, but Thrinderand moves too quickly for her -- maybe for the best, as she wasn't too keen yet on swallowing her pride.
"Are you alright, Thilda?" she asks, looking closely at the girl. "Your courage did not fail you - remember what you have accomplished this night. We owe our success to you - and to *him*," she growls, mouth twisting in frustration.
She walks over to Hurosk and thumps her shoulder into his. "That was an adventure - well done, hunter! Thank you." A flicker of smile appears at the corner of her mouth before she turns to the rest of the group. "Are we sleeping the morning away or opening the bar early?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Seb'riel is sat on the floor already, her fingers tracing over the book, following the pages, making sure nothing has been damaged or ripped out, barely noticing Thinderand's offer or departure. Her voice is high pitched and childlike but slow as she responds to Moltaris. "Neither". Her eyes are suddenly off in the middle distance again, glazed over and seeing nothing in the room. "We have so much work to do. This is just the beginning. I see so much." Her eyes snap back to the book in front of her. "It is all here. Everything is going to be OK." She hums a little as she reads through her notes, a half smile on her face as she rocks back and forth.
Kyne grunts with exertion as he and Hurosk haul the heavy chest up onto the roof of Morlainne's tower, glancing about wearily as the flames rise around them. He's tired of this fight. Tired of this stupid potato of an island, this godforsaken tower, this backwater town, and, most of all, tired of vampires. Once more it crosses his mind how just earlier that day he'd told Mathilda how flying 'didn't look that hard', and the elf chuckles wryly to himself as he looks down at the flames rising around them. It certainly seemed like a much more formidable task now that it came to it.
Fortunately, Lord Thumbelina and his perfect hair are here to save the day, Kyne thinks to himself, not entirely ungratefully, as it becomes apparent that they're about to be whisked away to safety once more.
I could jump into his big strong arms, but Mathilda might beat me to it... continues his internal monologue as they vanish in a flash of vampiric sparkles, only to reappear safe and sound atop the Golden Sphynx.
Kyne slumps, sitting atop the the chest, for lack of a better perch. He wipes the soot from his brow and giggles, slightly hysterically, happy to be done with the whole matter. Happy that Seb got what they went for. Happy that everyone is still alive. However, he looks up in concern when Lyreis suddenly buckles in pain. Perhaps the battle had taken more out of him that it had seemed? He stands and slowly stretches each arm across his chest, once the elven warrior has excused himself.
"I don't know about you, but I could use some sleep." Kyne answers Moltaris.
"Hurosk, you want to help me drag this thing to a room for safe keeping?" He asks, slapping the lid of the chest twice.
"Hey, Seb," he begins, crossing to his sister and affectionately laying a hand across her shoulders. "It's all here now. It's not going anywhere. You'll be able to concentrate better too after a little rest. Come on. Let's go."
"She's going to need more than just me if this place turns to ash beneath her..." Kyne grumbles back, but the sentiment is appreciated, and, together with Moltaris, he beats a hasty retreat up the stairs.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
"Last time y'all came across a magically protected door, you two through a hunter at it. We don't have any live creatures this time around, but we do have a dead body back there to possibly trigger this one..?"
"He deserved that though" Lyreis mumbles to himself "Would this trap kill me? I am probably the most resilient of us, who is not a vampire" He asks Seb, whilst looking at Lord Thinderand, and drawing a potion of healing from his belt. "If it does you could feed me this?" He prepares to move towards the secret door.
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
"I survived the last one I triggered, though barely."
She holds Lyreis arm as he steps forward. "Why would you do this for me? This is my wound to suffer. You hardly know me."
It could just be sweat from the battle but it almost seems there is moisture in her eye.
"It is a pragmatic choice, if you die then it was all for nothing, I may be strong enough to withstand it, you believe what is in the room is worth the risk, that is all I need to hear. Enough words, if anyone has a way of making of granting me protection from the spell then do so now, otherwise be ready to heal me." He passes the potion of healing to Seb "Ancestors watch over me."
If nobody interjects he will then move to the space and attempt to pass through the door, ready to dodge anything if it will help!
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
"Whoa, hold on there!" Hurosk says as the brave elf approaches the door. "Why don't you let us back out of here. No point in all of us getting hit if it fills this hallway with fire or something." He begins to back out of the hall. "Good luck!"
Seb'riel thinks for a moment.
"Perhaps we could set it off from range instead. If we had a few minutes I would summon a magical entity to do it. Perhaps a well placed arrow could serve as well though..."
"Well in that case, let me be moving out of the way too." Lyreis thi ks about drawing his own bow but knows that Hurosk is the better shot and grips his scimitars instead. "Take the shot ranger" he calls quietly over his shoulder.
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Hurosk peeks his head from around the corner. "Well clear out then! I can give that a go. Seems that we don't have a lot of time before this place burns up around us." The ranger is already drawing his arrow waiting for the last one to get to an area of protection.
Mathilda tears her eyes away from the lord and dashes into the hallway, looking back to make sure he is following.
Lyreis is right behind the young woman as she leaves the room. "Do it." He says to Hurosk.
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Seb'riel leaves the little doll at the womans side and then she channel her magic directly to the brain of the creature.
The head inmediatly turns pale then a blueish tone takes hold before the whole body starts to change color. Instead of ashes the vampire turns into snowflakes that a sudden gust of wind disperses over the room.
They all can hear a faint child's giggle as the vampire finds her true death.
Then Moltaris and Kyne come upstaris, covered in sweat and with soot on ther faces and informs that the fire is out fo control now.
Seb'riel guides to others towards the santa sanctorum of Morlainne and she points them to the secret door, then to the two sigils that still stand in the stone.
They discuss while they walk towards it and in front of it.
Hurosk gets his bow ready but Lord Thrinderand puts a hand on his arm and lowers his bow.
"Let me try something first." he ask.
He reaches towards the door and, cautiously touches it. For a moment the two sigils start to glow but he closes his eyes, concentrating and grabs his sword with a firm grip.
Both sigils dissipates in a spark of light and smoke.
" There you are " he says " I cannot open it I am afraid but I am pretty sure that you are more than capable of do that. Come now, it's safe, at least from the magics it has. " he says looking to Mathilda.
Trying not to blush too much she walks and works fast, for the temperature is increasing and they all can hear the flames already in the stage below. They don't know how much the tower will hold together.
The rogue works fast, and is again grateful for their benefactor, for his last sentence made her look for more mundane traps, and found one. It seems that there is some gas hidden in a leather sack inside the wall. If opened without the proper key, a stone will fall into the sack and it will release it's content. But now that Mathilda knows it is there is easy for her to open the lock, a complicated one she can't help to ponder where Morlainne found it, without activating it.
The door slides to one side and they finally gain access to Morlainne's room.
Elegant and with the better furniture they have ever seen, they move quickly and find a chest that can be carried by two of them so they desire. In a table Seb'riel finds her notes and her spellbook.
There are some small concentration of water in one side of the room, it seems that she tried the powers of the staff there. They also found a silver key with a delicate chain to have it over someone's neck.
There are some personal items and letters but they do not have more time to look into them.
The heat is increasing and they start to see flames running across the ceiling. There are no windows in this room.
They go back to the corridor and see that the flames are already in that level. It seems that the circular disposition of the tower and the corridors are venting the fire like if it was a chimmey. And they are in the way.
Running, coughing and sweating, they go upstaris, even breathing hurts with the extremely heat of the corridor.
There is a rumble and the whole tower shakes. Some of the structure is falling. They reach the top of the tower and close the manhole they use to go up.
The fresh air of the night gives them a more needed breath but their situation is complicated. Roaring flames sprout from the windows of the tower, the smoke fill their eyes of tears and makes it even harder to see.
They start to weight their options but none seems to be perfect or fast enough.
Kyne looks around in frustration. Hurosk refuses to accept that they all are going to die after all and grunts looking down with Lyreis trying to see if they could reach the nearest trees jumping.
Lord Thrinderand, still calm, cleave with his sword trought the stone and makes a sinlge, circular movement, carving a perfect circle on the stone.
"Step inside" he simply says.
Even as they start to comply the silver and blue light that brought them to the island started to shine again. Mathilda fears that it was too late, for the roof start to crumble and fall to the fire below it.
Seb'riel hopes that he hurries for she knows that, without the circle in the stone the spell will fail.
One by one, the stones of the ceiling fall, and the light continues to intensify. Lireys jumps just in time when the floor dissapears below him and enters the circle when the light reaches its brightest intensity. The roar of the flames mixed with the crumbling of the stone fills everyone's ears as they are blinded by the light.
There is a dizzling feeling.
And they all feel solid ground under their feet again. Stading at the roof of the Golden Sphynx, in the middle of the circle Lord Thrinderand created only an hour ago. The fresh and moist air of the city and the lake feels good to all as they realized that they had finally escaped.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Hurosk strains from below as he pushes the chest out with Kyne onto the roof. "Whew... I hope this is more than her wardrobe!" The ranger paces from side to side of the roof, looking for a way of escape. "So, you're two-for-two on burning buildings so far." He waves his arms as the smoke billows around them.
"I think we can make it," he declares to the group with confidence. "I'm not gonna die from some flames after having vampires and wolves biting at my neck. No, sir!" He moves to push the chest from the roof but stops his efforts as the vampire lord begins his teleportation ritual. "Or we could do that!" Wincing as the sounds of the tower beginning to give way, he looks down at his shimmering dragonmark. We're cutting it close again, Dol Dronn.
When he opens his eyes and finds they are safe atop the roof of the Sphynx, Hurosk lets out a long heavy breath. "That sure was... an adventure." Having taken a moment to allow the relative calm of the quiet little town to wash over him, he walks towards the edge to the roof, peering to the mountains to the south.
"So," he addresses Thinderand, "what do you know about any dragons in those mountains?"
The vampire rises an eyebrown at Hurosk question. If something he has surprised him.
" I think that you better go down and get some rest. You will have suites here at the Sphynx at your disposal if you choose to remain here. The facilities are at your service. We could talk more tomorrow night for I must retire now. " the faint light on the east make you acknowledge of the hour. Your incursion on the potato island was intense and brief, but you took your time in your previous talk with Lord Thinderand and your own preparations. "But to ease your mind I do know of a brass dragon living there. Now if you´ll excuse me... " he slightly bows to them and walks back into the fog and over the edge of the roof, dissapearing.
PbP Character: A few ;)
"I have to say he knows how to make an exit." Lyreis walks towards the edge himself, near to Hurosk. "I think he was right though, let the morning bring new challenges, tonight we should celebrate our great victory, we have done a truly good thing and if the bards do not know to sing of us then it is their loss, and something to correct." he adds the last we a smile.
As he looks out into the fog the battlemaster smiles, reliving the battles in his mind, the group were strong they could achieve much, he was certain.
"I think we should..." his next words catch in his throat, a stabbing pain running up his arm, through his shoulder and into his neck, feeling like lightning surging through his veins. "I...I...think I might need to rest a moment" the elf drops to a knee for a few seconds as the pain subsides. Standing with an obvious effort he speaks to nobody in particular as he heads down towards the rooms "I may save the drinks for another time, I think the teleportation has unsettled me. I will feel better in the morning, enjoy yourselves." Gripping his scimitars until his knuckles are white he leaves the roof.
As soon as he is out of sight of the others the pain flares again, his skin feeling like it is burning under a lightning touch around his shoulder and neck. He stumbles on the stairs, catches his balance and continues quickly, moving down until he can find a member of the staff who can direct him to the rooms that Lord Thinderand has reserved for them. Each moment feels like an hour to Lyreis until eventually he can close the door to the room he has been steered towards. As soon as he does he slumps against it, sliding down to the floor the exquisite weapon falling from his hand to make a small metallic note as the blades touch down. Controlling his breathing, he attempts to calm himself but peace will not come, meditative techniques he has honed over decades are useless as the pain spikes again, standing he heads to a mirror, removing his armour and tunic as he does, the items left strewn across the floor. Standing in front of the glass his breath is taken from him, across his shoulder moving up across his neck is a series of glyphs creating a strange symbol. His many years of life have brought him into contact with Dragonmarks before and it reminds him of them, but it is not like those he has seen before. This design looks broken and chaotic, the lines abstract and lacking focus to his eye. As he looks at in as a reflection a pulse of energy moves through it and he feels the sting across his body as it travels.
Angry at this invasion of his body he looks around the room, he sees a bottle of spirits and thinks of taking it and reaches out. Before he knows what is happening the outstretched fingers are crackling with the energy of the storm, a surge of lightning lashes out towards the bottle and those next to it and suddenly they leap towards him, confused he raises his other hand to stop them just as the energy proves too much for the delicate glassware and the bottles explode. Now he nearly panics as he seems to have launched a storm of jagged glass straight at himself. As it looks as though he will be savagely sliced by the glass a pulse of a different nature erupts from the other hand. Eyes wide he sees the glass strike a shield of swirling force and the moment seems to freeze.
Senses overwhelmed Lyreis doesn't know whether to focus on the lightning, the force shield or the stabbing pain flaring in his neck as the mark flashes. The shards of glass slip to the floor as the lightning ends and a couple of seconds later the shield dissipates too, the pain subsides and the elf is left staring at a room suddenly covered in broken glass and spirits, the smell already creeping into his nostrils. "Grandfather, what am I becoming...?" he speaks to the air as he looks around for some way to clean the mess before the others have any reason to see it.
After the room is cleared and the window left open to allow for the smell to disperse Lyreis stares at his shoulder in the mirror for what feels like half the morning, eventually he puts on his tunic to cover it as much as possible, his long hair hiding most of the rest of it. He goes to the bed, sleep finds him quickly but it is not a kindly rest, as he sinks into the deeper reaches of sleep the battle begins, a darkness so black that he feels like he has been robbed of his eyes is the beginning, then a spark of light, swelling, incandescent gradually dominates his vision until the darkness is banished and all that remains is a gigantic golden eye with a vertical slit holding him in place with it's power. A voice comes from nowhere the resonance shaking his teeth in their sockets "DISCOVER. HELP." Coming to he finds himself on the floor, half the room away, but within touching distance of his scimitars. As his hand reaches out the power of the blade seems to banish the presence, calm descends over the elf. He has no idea how long he slept, hours or minutes or days, the sun seems to indicate he slept for hours at most but he feels stronger, rejuvenated, the power coming from the mark is there like a reservoir but it feels more stable than before he slept. With many questions in his mind he prepares himself to leave the room.
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Lyreis - Level 6 Elf Fighter - Eberron: Omega
DM - Dzenda: The Cracks - DM - Dzenda: Whispered Tales
Mathilda coughs from the smoke and stumbles slightly as they appear back at the Golden Sphynx. She stares after Lord Thrinderand as he leaves, thinking that he has just saved her life for a third time. A leaden tiredness comes over her. Even though she feels proud about what they have achieved, not least because she managed to open the special door and kill a vampire, and Thrinderand was there to watch her succeed - did I really do that, I KILLED a vampire? She smiles an exhausted smile and declares herself ready for a bath, a quick bite and some sleep.
When Lyreis has spoken, her eyes shine a little and she asks timidly: "Do you really think someone would make a song about us?" The elf leaves without answering, seemingly suddenly unwell, and Mathilda worries if he will be alright. They were taking the brunt of the attacks while I was hiding up in the trees... She looks at her feet. "Is everyone else okay?"
"I'm in no hurry to go running off again. Just wanted to ask since it's been bothering me since I felt...," Hurosk cuts off as the fighter is brought to his knees. He reaches out to offer some needed support. "Yeah, you go take care of yourself."
"Feeling well, here. Just a little sore. Nothing a few drinks and night's rest won't cure." The half-orc waves a hand for Mathilda to proceed. "Care to join me..?" He suddenly realizes the unintended implication. "Uh...uhm.. For a drink that is."
"I smell like burnt cat, but otherwise, I think I am well," Moltaris grouses as the teleportation circle closes and the pre-dawn atmosphere embraces her. Her sarcasm masks her disorientation - it takes a moment for the cleric to process that they're so suddenly out of danger. She coughs several times and spits up an ashy lungful of phlegm onto the rooftop. "Ugh - I hope that was ash from the barn," she murmurs as she looks to the others. She opens her mouth to speak to the vampire lord, but Thrinderand moves too quickly for her -- maybe for the best, as she wasn't too keen yet on swallowing her pride.
"Are you alright, Thilda?" she asks, looking closely at the girl. "Your courage did not fail you - remember what you have accomplished this night. We owe our success to you - and to *him*," she growls, mouth twisting in frustration.
She walks over to Hurosk and thumps her shoulder into his. "That was an adventure - well done, hunter! Thank you." A flicker of smile appears at the corner of her mouth before she turns to the rest of the group. "Are we sleeping the morning away or opening the bar early?"
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
Seb'riel is sat on the floor already, her fingers tracing over the book, following the pages, making sure nothing has been damaged or ripped out, barely noticing Thinderand's offer or departure. Her voice is high pitched and childlike but slow as she responds to Moltaris. "Neither". Her eyes are suddenly off in the middle distance again, glazed over and seeing nothing in the room. "We have so much work to do. This is just the beginning. I see so much." Her eyes snap back to the book in front of her. "It is all here. Everything is going to be OK." She hums a little as she reads through her notes, a half smile on her face as she rocks back and forth.
Kyne grunts with exertion as he and Hurosk haul the heavy chest up onto the roof of Morlainne's tower, glancing about wearily as the flames rise around them. He's tired of this fight. Tired of this stupid potato of an island, this godforsaken tower, this backwater town, and, most of all, tired of vampires. Once more it crosses his mind how just earlier that day he'd told Mathilda how flying 'didn't look that hard', and the elf chuckles wryly to himself as he looks down at the flames rising around them. It certainly seemed like a much more formidable task now that it came to it.
Fortunately, Lord Thumbelina and his perfect hair are here to save the day, Kyne thinks to himself, not entirely ungratefully, as it becomes apparent that they're about to be whisked away to safety once more.
I could jump into his big strong arms, but Mathilda might beat me to it... continues his internal monologue as they vanish in a flash of vampiric sparkles, only to reappear safe and sound atop the Golden Sphynx.
Kyne slumps, sitting atop the the chest, for lack of a better perch. He wipes the soot from his brow and giggles, slightly hysterically, happy to be done with the whole matter. Happy that Seb got what they went for. Happy that everyone is still alive. However, he looks up in concern when Lyreis suddenly buckles in pain. Perhaps the battle had taken more out of him that it had seemed? He stands and slowly stretches each arm across his chest, once the elven warrior has excused himself.
"I don't know about you, but I could use some sleep." Kyne answers Moltaris.
"Hurosk, you want to help me drag this thing to a room for safe keeping?" He asks, slapping the lid of the chest twice.
"Hey, Seb," he begins, crossing to his sister and affectionately laying a hand across her shoulders. "It's all here now. It's not going anywhere. You'll be able to concentrate better too after a little rest. Come on. Let's go."
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva