"I will help Hurosk - you help your sister get inside and safe. Seb'riel - whatever you are seeing, you will not have to face it alone."
Moltaris returns to Hurosk's side and helps him drag the chest away.
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...
Looking up a little confused, Seb responds lightly, half distracted by the page she is still reading.
"Oh? OK. As you wish. I can look over it in the inn if you are tired." She allows Kyne to guide her to her feet. Gathering the books under her arm she heads for the door. "I'm not tired though, I'll just read." Her slow stumbling steps suggest her words may not be entirely true, however. She smiles at Moltaris though.
Mathilda blushes, but smiles. "Thank you, that is very nice of you to say, Moltaris. I'm glad you and Hurosk are alright." She pats more vampire ashes off her clothes. "I'm not hurt. Honestly, I feel exhausted... I think I'll take you up on that drink another time, if you don't mind. This night was... I don't even know what that was." She shrugs and stares at the sky, as if searching for words. It seems she is about to bid the group a good night and retire, but as the adrenaline wears off, it is not only tiredness that Mathilda feels. Images from their fight with not one, but three vampires, some machine creature, the fire - it all comes flooding in now that they are out of danger. The male vampire reaching up for her from under the bed. She shivers and pulls her thin cloak around her. "Actually, never mind, let's have that drink before we catch some sleep. We should celebrate, right?" Mathilda smiles at Hurosk and Moltaris, but her eyes look haunted. "See you in the morning!" She waves at Kyne and Seb'riel as they disappear.
Unfortunately for the ones that want to go directly to celebrate, the servants indicates that they are closing. They had orders to have their suites ready and they tell that there are bottles of wine at the rooms. One per room but if they want more the servants could bring some to them and a early breakfast before retiring. They inform them that the baths at the suites had some minor enchantments and they are hot if so they desire.
The idea of a hoth bath and a good rest grows fond on them and they retire to their own bedrooms to rest.
They will meet later at Moltaris's room to open the chest and see what they got in their rushed depart of the tower and potato island.
Mathilda quietly slinks into Moltaris's room some time during the afternoon. When she sees they have already assembled, she apologises, mumbling something about struggling to sleep. Her face is deep red and she keeps adjusting her clothes. Quickly, she sits down on one of the chairs and tries to blend into the background. When the others begin to discuss the items from the chest again, a quiet smile spreads across her face and she runs her fingers along the edge of her collar.
As he sinks below the water line Lyreis' dark blonde hair fans out around him, the calm of the water brings a smile to his face, he reflects as to how little little time he has been able to devote to himself recently. The war, seemingly without end that had raged all his life, decades spent in service, serving in a warband and then leading one, the endless road of campaigns through what was Cyre and beyond. Cyre a land that was no more, Valenar, a land borne from the fear of the other races towards his people. A place where he had been unable to find any happiness after the war. Wanderlust and a feeling that he needed to leave his people for a time had driven him away, could he now return? A conflict raged inside the battlemaster, and he senses the mark on his shoulder responding, the tension provoking the design to pulse more strongly, bringing discomfort.
Blocking the feelings, focusing on his new friends the elf returns to a calmer place, he would need to speak with them about the mark, what it meant. And there was another thing to consider too. Eyes still closed Lyreis feels the water lap against the sides of his face, half submerged in the bath, the water over his ears muting the sounds, the lights low, it comes upon him quickly again, this time the golden eye hurtles towards him quickly from the darkness "DISCOVER. HELP." the force again shaking him from his relaxation dramatically. Surging up he sits in the bath, heart pounding breathing harder, but he does not need the power of the scimitars this time, the energy disperses and he is himself again.
Completing his bath he dresses, although he remains unarmoured, and leaves the scimitars by his bed, the dagger in his boot top the only weapon on his person, looking through his belongings he selects a torc that is set with small sapphires at the end and places it around his neck, checking his appearance in the mirror. Satisfied, he goes to visit the others, finding them assembling in Moltaris' room.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Seb'riel does not find that sleep comes easily, not that she tries to find it. Her brain is awash with thoughts of torture, redemption and loss. She sits cross legged on the floor, adjusting her focus onto the books in front of her. She is satisfied that her work is all there and undamaged, and instead moves her focus to the spell book she gathered from Morlainne's chambers. Lights dance above her once more as she reads, another draw of focus that keeps the dark thoughts at bay. She turns the pages of the new book, her owl once again sat on her shoulder, reading along with her. She sorts through the spells, deciding which ones she wishes to learn, which ones she knows already and which ones she would have no use for. With this task complete she picks up the staff. Once again the frost bites her fingers for a moment. She has purposefully left this task for last. She knew from her visions it was of importance, an item she was destined to hold. But it was also a link to the torment of the past months, a reminder of her penance, and a point of focus to help her realise she can be strong and remember not to be weak again. This was her reward for doing better than before. She holds it more firmly and watches as the lights above her become snow flakes, dancing around radiating a dim white and blue light. After a little while the cold from the haft no longer bothers her, it was as if she had always had it there, a natural extension of herself. With this comfort, she falls into a meditative state, finally able to free her mind of distraction.
Later in the afternoon she notices people moving in the corridor, and gathers her things, getting dressed and joining the others in Moltaris' room to sort through the contents of the chest they stole.
"Hmm... Well, I guess that drink will have to wait." Hurosk says to the others. He looks down at the raised light green flesh of the recently healed gashes on his forearm, wincing a bit as he runs a thumb over the wounds. He half tries to wipe away some of the dried blood. "A bath may be a good idea. Don't want to frighten the other patrons looking like this."He gives the ladies a quick goodbye and heads off to find his room.
This type of accommodation is certainly foreign for one coming from the Shadow Marshes - more accustom to a more rustic atmosphere. In exploring his room, he finds a few sets of clothes provided by the Sphinx. Though he eyes them wearily and proceeds instead to the bath. His unease his literally washed away as he sinks into the tub, this being the first time in a few days he has had a proper bathing. He finally emerges after the water has gone cold, then rests before heading out to find the others.
In joining the other's in Molly's room, Mathilda isn't the only one looking uncomfortable, as Hurosk shifts uncomfortably in his new clothes. "So did we find anything go...," he trails off and looks a little disheartened at the sight of the dress being pull from within the chest. His fear of this being the wardrobe of the vampire coming true.
Kyne nods to Moltaris in thanks and, raising a farewell hand to Mathilda, guides Seb'riel off to her room for the night. After imploring his sister to actually get some rest, rather than staying up reading, he finally closes her door behind him with a soft click and wanders off to find his own suite, yawning widely as he goes.
Finally in the privacy of his own chambers, the elf unbuckles his sword-belt, letting the scabbard fall to the floor with a clunk. Once out of his boots and armour, Kyne peels off his shirt and goes looking for the promised tub. He finishes undressing and arranges his things while it runs, setting the worn items aside for Seb'riel to prestidigitate later, and standing Daedagnír and Fìrambar against the wall near the bed. He also digs his formal clothes out of his pack and lays them aside for later. It's nice to have a reason to wear them for a change.
Once the bath is ready, Kyne clambers in and settles into the tub with a sigh of release, letting the warmth spread through his body and chase the cold away. He cricks his nick left and right, before closing his eyes and just letting the grime drift off him for a few moments. Once all the adrenaline has finally faded away and the warmth has eased his aching muscles, the elf sits up and goes about properly cleaning himself and washing his hair. He takes his time, well aware that it's not every day he gets to enjoy a full bath, and when he's finally finished he towels himself down and combs the tangles out of his twisting, dark locks, before stretching out under the covers of the bed. Not long later he's fast asleep, and doesn't wake until late in the day.
When Kyne finally rises, he slips on a comfortably loose white shirt and some simple leather trousers. He hesitates, about to leave, and then slips his sword-belt back on as an afterthought, before heading to meet with the others in Moltaris's room to investigate Morlainne's chest.
It seems he's the first to arrive, and the elf leans up against the door frame with one arm before knocking on the door. When the priestess cracks it to see who is there, she's immediately confronted by Kyne's broad grin.
"'Morning' Molly," he declares, well aware that it has not been morning for some time. "Did you sleep well?"
He strolls inside before she can answer, deftly nabbing a piece of left over food from the servant's platter.
"Shall we take a look at what 'Mistress Morlainne' has left for us then?" He asks, flipping open the lid a few moments before Hurosk arrives. He laughs out loud when he sees the disappointment on the half-orc's face.
"Don't worry buddy," he replies, tossing the longbow across the room to the ranger. "Something for everyone - I hope anyway. Seb should be able to tell us if any of this is magical."
He turns the silver raven statue over in his hands a few times, before laying it aside.
"I think I know what that is though. I've come across them before."
Kyne continues to root through the chest, and lets out a low whistle when he finally gets the smaller box unlocked.
"Plenty to go around in here too!"
He glances over his shoulder at the others who have gathered in the meantime, and the elf's gaze lingers on Mathilda for a moment, smirking when he sees the beetroot colour to her face.
"You alright there Tilda? Did Lord Twinkletoes stop by and offer you eternity yet?"
Moltaris accompanies the others downstairs, and goes to her suite to secure the treasure trunk. A few moments later, though, she slips out of her rooms and goes back up to the roof.
She takes several deep breaths and then folds her legs and drops to a sitting position facing the brightening horizon. Light is coming over the world, and after such a night of darkness, I need to commune with my kindred in the Light
As the light grows in the sky, she closes her eyes and opens her mind to the quori ancestor spirits.
I am Mol of the line of Taris Mol daughter of Taris Yannahilath of the Path of Light Shadow Walker of Taratai
Thank you, Ancient Quori Thank you, Bright Mother I live because of your light I will serve - I will be of service
The sunlight washes over her with the scent of YELLOW the color of YES the taste of PEACE
Then flashes of vicious battle against innumerable foes - the shrieking of her beloved and the fall of all that was.
She dies a hundred times in a second and is reborn a hundredfold - different bodies, different places, different mothers, different faces.
Sweat pours from her body, washing away the ash and blood. When her eyes fly open, they glow a vivid purple, and her hair floats in a crackling halo of energy about her. Then, with a snap only audible to her, the glow vanishes and the energy is gone.
I am Mol of the line of Taris Mol, daughter of Taris Yannahilath of the Path of Light Shadow Walker of Taratai
She finds her way to her feet and walks slowly back to her suite to bathe and rest.
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...
Mathilda sinks even deeper into her chair. "I'm okay, I uh... I couldn't sleep last night, and he stopped by and uh...", even her ears are crimson now, "he gave me this." She pulls at her clothes, and suddenly they transform from ordinary travelling clothes to a warm coat and hat, lined with thick fur on the inside, big snow boots and a pair of warm trousers. Mathilda tugs again and the clothes change into an elaborate ball gown. The expensive outfit looks terribly out of place with Mathilda's hair, worn up in a simple braid. She admires the dress, touching it very carefully. "I have never owned something this precious. Never thought I ever would..." Lost in thought, she keeps looking at different parts of the dress. Her facial expressions change between amazement and something like sadness, perhaps even confusion. I can't say I don't blame him for using that mind-controlling magic, but he could have let that vampire tear me to shreds, he could have left us all to burn in that tower. Maybe some monsters really are trying to redeem themselves. He has been nothing but kind to me, and last night...
When she looks up again, she remembers where she is and quickly tugs at the sleeve of her dress, changing back into ordinary clothes. Eager to shift the focus off herself, she asks: "Did everyone else have a good rest? You look like you're feeling betters this morning, Lyreis? We are going to the ball later, right? I was wondering... do any of you know how to dance?"
"Thank you, yes I feel much better. I apologise for my abrupt departure yesterday, I need to talk to you all about that though." Lyreis goes to the drinks stand and pours himself a glass of wine. Sipping from it, he nods at the quality and places his glass down carefully. "Something happened to me yesterday, you all saw when I felt the beginning of it but as the morning passed it developed further." Unbuttoning his tunic, he strips off showing his upper body to the assembled group, the tattoo fresh and visible over his shoulder and reaching for his neck. "This is what caused me the pain, it also brought with it other things which I need to investigate more fully. I seem to be able ot cast two spells, although I do not know how, one is something I have seen Kyne do, I can send a line of lightning out from my hand and use it to pull something towards me. I can also create a magical shield that protects me for a short while, although I do not believe I could do that often without rest. They are clearly connected to this Mark, the pain that surges through the tattoo when I use the power cannot be a coincidence." He moves to the window, facing away from the group one hand reaching for the frame to rest against as he continues.
"There was something else, I do not believe it was connected with the Mark, but possibly this change in me has left me vulnerable to other things but I know so little of this world I would ask for your thoughts and advice. The sleep I fell into after we parted was as deep as I have ever had, but I seem to have had some sort of vision or been contacted by something. A great golden eye with a slit through it came out of the blackest of darknesses to dominate everything in my mind, and a voice that shook me to my core said two words - Discover. Help. When I was meditating earlier it happened again. I believe something has tried to give me a message, that I am needed, most probably that we are needed. But I do not know enough to go forward. Seb, you have the gifts of the seer, could you help me find out more? Moltaris, you may have great insight to offer I would welcome it. Kyne, your powers seem most like the ones I can use, you may need to help me understand them fully. Hurosk, the Mark I bear, maybe you have come across something similar in your travels? And you Mathilda, you are the youngest of us all, if you do not feel you can help me in any way with this then save me a dance later and you will help ease the heaviness of my heart. In truth, I consider myself very blessed to have found you all, you have so many skills between you. I wonder why the power that is trying to contact us choose the one whose only true skill is killing things, but then maybe that is the task we are required for....."
Lyreis drinks again, a smile on his lips. "I was thinking earlier that the war has taken most of my life from me, the chances for merriment and diversion have been few in truth, and I am tempted now to ask that we all forget what I have just said for a time and spend the evening together as friends, just to celebrate both our victory and a future spent in each others company." Raising his glass to the others he adds "To you all."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Vhon - Level 2 Warlock - What shall become of the Drunken Sailor?
Kyne raises an amused eyebrow when Mathilda mentions that Lord Thrinderand did indeed visit her in her chambers. He's about to open his mouth for another teasing quip, but stops as he sees Lyreis begin to explain his behaviour from the night before. The elf turns to face his friend, sitting cross-legged in front of the big chest as he listens intently to the full story.
"That's quite a tale," he muses once Lyreis is done, raising his glass in return.
"Tomorrow, we will train together. It's been some time since I had a real duel, and I could use a sparring partner. We can use the time to see what you can do as well. Tonight though, we celebrate," Kyne asserts firmly, rising to grasp his friend firmly by the forearm and clapping him on the shoulder with the other hand.
Turning back to the trunk, he deftly tosses the silver raven figurine to Mathilda, assuming she will catch it.
"You might want to have Seb take a look at that, but it should turn into a raven that will bring messages to people for you. There'll be a command word. Useful if you're ranging ahead."
After that, Kyne goes about dividing the coin amongst the group, though he sets aside the gems for later sale.
Once the loot has been distributed and accounted for, the sorcerer quietly takes his sister aside.
"Right. Seb, I've been thinking... I know our approaches to magic differ, but... I've been watching you work. Will you help me learn to fly? I think I can figure it out, based on what I've seen you do. Fire may be more my thing, but I have some skill with air magic. You know the arcane though. I thought you might have some tips?"
He's almost sheepish as he asks. Looking to his little sister for guidance clearly isn't the most natural approach for him. Typically, he prefers to work these things out alone. Flight though... flight comes with certain risks that it would be unwise to underestimate.
"'Morning' Molly," he declares, well aware that it has not been morning for some time. "Did you sleep well?"
He strolls inside before she can answer, deftly nabbing a piece of left over food from the servant's platter.
Molly punches Kyne in the chest, a solid blow but with a flicker of affectionate amusement across her features while she does it, then turns to follow him. She is still clad in her simple leathers, rapier and shield against the wall. As the others arrive, they find that wine has been poured and ready for them.
Listening to Mathilda, she controls her features to avoid expressing her visceral reaction. Softly, she only replies, "Save us, he may have done - that I will grant him and I will express my thanks to his face. Protect this settlement, he may do. But still, he is what he is and he lives on the blood of the living." Falling silent, she listens to Lyreis. When he finishes, she raises her glass as well.
"To US all - perhaps in bringing us together, that fey creatures has done more than mere mischief."
After the toast, she continues, "I know little of such marks, though I have heard of them in my hunt. Do we know what power causes them?"
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...
"Oh! Well isn't this nice!" Hurosk holds the bow up, giving it a thorough examination. "Can't wait to give this a try!"
The half-orc picks up a glass and returns the salute. He steps over to Lyreis and begins rolling up the sleeve of his new, fancy shirt. "I'm quite familiar with markings that will give you some power."He reveals his own mark on his forearm which continues up, disappearing under his shirt. "Many of us in House Tharashk who have taken up the family business have about the same mark as mine. We get it as sort of a rite of passage. Helps give us that edge when we're tracking our prey, making it hard for them to hide from us. Like that vampire. I could feel him sulking about the tower though I couldn't see him. Though, I wasn't quick enough to give Thilda here the heads up before he tried biting her... Sorry, about that," he says turning to the rogue, clearly disappointed he was unable to warn her.
He passes his hand over it, remembering what it was like when it was bestowed to him. "It wasn't this large when I first got it. It seems to grow with me and my travels and as I successfully complete my jobs. Though, I can't say that I hear any voices since I've had the thing."
Looking uncomfortably at Mathilda's tale of Thinderand's generosity, Seb'riel keeps quiet. It is not her place to talk of expectations that usually follow such gifts. Under her breath she murmurs about there always being a price though, especially with gifts that encourage your femininity and nods wholeheartedly at Moltaris' summary of the situation. Usually she would be more curious, but Vampires now bored her, she had probably more information than would be useful for her needs on that topic.
She listens intently to Lyreis' tale however but her face grows wide with protest at the end. "Lyreis! You cruel tease! You present a mystery then ask that I do not answer think of it immediately. I would sit with you and have more details, I am certain I could reach the bottom of it all with a little time. As for your visions, I can attempt to explore them with you. I have much experience in learning to control such things, but it takes time and experience. I will tell you this though. They always strike me now when I am least in control of my mind. When I am tired or injured and my defences are not as they should be. When Morlainne wished to access my talents she would feed on my blood, or in the early days would beat or cut me until I could not help but focus on her question and the visions would come to the fore. The last time..." She fixes Kyne with a sideways stare as she finishes the sentence, worried of his reaction to mention of her previous capture "The first time I was taken for my gift, they would use herbs and unnatural substances to remove me from my sense of the present to force my visions and ensure I would communicate them in full." She seems to be avoiding saying something directly at first, but then just comes to it. "I was too weak and should have been able to resist. The drugs brought the visions, but my weakness is what led me to share them. I did not suffer from such shortcomings this time." She breathes out. "My point though, is that perhaps the weariness induced by the battle and stress of yesterday may have opened you up to a vision that had been trying to enter your consciousness for some time."
Raising an eyebrow at Kyne's request, Seb'riel is caught by surprise at her brother's willingness to study something. She quickly warms to the idea though and nods enthusiastically. "It would be nice to teach you something of a finer form of magic! And to fly together, think how far we could go so fast and so free!" She holds his arm, suddenly more serious. "First I must tell you though, what all this was for. Why I allowed myself to be captured. We need to talk of it alone, but soon."
Mathilda listens carefully to Lyreis, a worried frown forming on her forehead. When he mentions that she could dance with him to help him though, she laughs. "I will save you a dance, but I really only know the simple ones we did at home. Nothing fancy that I imagine rich folk dance at a ball." She raises her glass back at him. When Moltaris cautions Mathilda about Thrinderand, she listens and presses her lips together, not finding anything false in Moltaris' words. She is right, he is a vampire, and yet... he seems so different from that monstrous lady at the lake. A shiver passes over her at the memory of Morlainne, and the vampire who tried to kill her when she stabbed his lover. Shrugging it off, she tries to focus on the present. Her new-found friends, the luxurious room she is in, the glass of wine in her hand. "Don't worry Hurosk, it was not your fault, and I'm alright, we all are."
The little raven figurine feels entirely normal in Mathilda's hands. She takes it over to Seb'riel and holds it out like a foreign object: "So, uhm, how do I make this send a message?"
"I will help Hurosk - you help your sister get inside and safe. Seb'riel - whatever you are seeing, you will not have to face it alone."
Moltaris returns to Hurosk's side and helps him drag the chest away.
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...
Looking up a little confused, Seb responds lightly, half distracted by the page she is still reading.
"Oh? OK. As you wish. I can look over it in the inn if you are tired." She allows Kyne to guide her to her feet. Gathering the books under her arm she heads for the door. "I'm not tired though, I'll just read." Her slow stumbling steps suggest her words may not be entirely true, however. She smiles at Moltaris though.
"I know. I saw you there too."
Mathilda blushes, but smiles. "Thank you, that is very nice of you to say, Moltaris. I'm glad you and Hurosk are alright." She pats more vampire ashes off her clothes. "I'm not hurt. Honestly, I feel exhausted... I think I'll take you up on that drink another time, if you don't mind. This night was... I don't even know what that was." She shrugs and stares at the sky, as if searching for words. It seems she is about to bid the group a good night and retire, but as the adrenaline wears off, it is not only tiredness that Mathilda feels. Images from their fight with not one, but three vampires, some machine creature, the fire - it all comes flooding in now that they are out of danger. The male vampire reaching up for her from under the bed. She shivers and pulls her thin cloak around her. "Actually, never mind, let's have that drink before we catch some sleep. We should celebrate, right?" Mathilda smiles at Hurosk and Moltaris, but her eyes look haunted. "See you in the morning!" She waves at Kyne and Seb'riel as they disappear.
Unfortunately for the ones that want to go directly to celebrate, the servants indicates that they are closing. They had orders to have their suites ready and they tell that there are bottles of wine at the rooms. One per room but if they want more the servants could bring some to them and a early breakfast before retiring. They inform them that the baths at the suites had some minor enchantments and they are hot if so they desire.
The idea of a hoth bath and a good rest grows fond on them and they retire to their own bedrooms to rest.
They will meet later at Moltaris's room to open the chest and see what they got in their rushed depart of the tower and potato island.
PbP Character: A few ;)
Mathilda quietly slinks into Moltaris's room some time during the afternoon. When she sees they have already assembled, she apologises, mumbling something about struggling to sleep. Her face is deep red and she keeps adjusting her clothes. Quickly, she sits down on one of the chairs and tries to blend into the background. When the others begin to discuss the items from the chest again, a quiet smile spreads across her face and she runs her fingers along the edge of her collar.
As he sinks below the water line Lyreis' dark blonde hair fans out around him, the calm of the water brings a smile to his face, he reflects as to how little little time he has been able to devote to himself recently. The war, seemingly without end that had raged all his life, decades spent in service, serving in a warband and then leading one, the endless road of campaigns through what was Cyre and beyond. Cyre a land that was no more, Valenar, a land borne from the fear of the other races towards his people. A place where he had been unable to find any happiness after the war. Wanderlust and a feeling that he needed to leave his people for a time had driven him away, could he now return? A conflict raged inside the battlemaster, and he senses the mark on his shoulder responding, the tension provoking the design to pulse more strongly, bringing discomfort.
Blocking the feelings, focusing on his new friends the elf returns to a calmer place, he would need to speak with them about the mark, what it meant. And there was another thing to consider too. Eyes still closed Lyreis feels the water lap against the sides of his face, half submerged in the bath, the water over his ears muting the sounds, the lights low, it comes upon him quickly again, this time the golden eye hurtles towards him quickly from the darkness "DISCOVER. HELP." the force again shaking him from his relaxation dramatically. Surging up he sits in the bath, heart pounding breathing harder, but he does not need the power of the scimitars this time, the energy disperses and he is himself again.
Completing his bath he dresses, although he remains unarmoured, and leaves the scimitars by his bed, the dagger in his boot top the only weapon on his person, looking through his belongings he selects a torc that is set with small sapphires at the end and places it around his neck, checking his appearance in the mirror. Satisfied, he goes to visit the others, finding them assembling in Moltaris' 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
Seb'riel does not find that sleep comes easily, not that she tries to find it. Her brain is awash with thoughts of torture, redemption and loss. She sits cross legged on the floor, adjusting her focus onto the books in front of her. She is satisfied that her work is all there and undamaged, and instead moves her focus to the spell book she gathered from Morlainne's chambers. Lights dance above her once more as she reads, another draw of focus that keeps the dark thoughts at bay. She turns the pages of the new book, her owl once again sat on her shoulder, reading along with her. She sorts through the spells, deciding which ones she wishes to learn, which ones she knows already and which ones she would have no use for. With this task complete she picks up the staff. Once again the frost bites her fingers for a moment. She has purposefully left this task for last. She knew from her visions it was of importance, an item she was destined to hold. But it was also a link to the torment of the past months, a reminder of her penance, and a point of focus to help her realise she can be strong and remember not to be weak again. This was her reward for doing better than before. She holds it more firmly and watches as the lights above her become snow flakes, dancing around radiating a dim white and blue light. After a little while the cold from the haft no longer bothers her, it was as if she had always had it there, a natural extension of herself. With this comfort, she falls into a meditative state, finally able to free her mind of distraction.
Later in the afternoon she notices people moving in the corridor, and gathers her things, getting dressed and joining the others in Moltaris' room to sort through the contents of the chest they stole.
"Hmm... Well, I guess that drink will have to wait." Hurosk says to the others. He looks down at the raised light green flesh of the recently healed gashes on his forearm, wincing a bit as he runs a thumb over the wounds. He half tries to wipe away some of the dried blood. "A bath may be a good idea. Don't want to frighten the other patrons looking like this." He gives the ladies a quick goodbye and heads off to find his room.
This type of accommodation is certainly foreign for one coming from the Shadow Marshes - more accustom to a more rustic atmosphere. In exploring his room, he finds a few sets of clothes provided by the Sphinx. Though he eyes them wearily and proceeds instead to the bath. His unease his literally washed away as he sinks into the tub, this being the first time in a few days he has had a proper bathing. He finally emerges after the water has gone cold, then rests before heading out to find the others.
In joining the other's in Molly's room, Mathilda isn't the only one looking uncomfortable, as Hurosk shifts uncomfortably in his new clothes. "So did we find anything go...," he trails off and looks a little disheartened at the sight of the dress being pull from within the chest. His fear of this being the wardrobe of the vampire coming true.
Kyne nods to Moltaris in thanks and, raising a farewell hand to Mathilda, guides Seb'riel off to her room for the night. After imploring his sister to actually get some rest, rather than staying up reading, he finally closes her door behind him with a soft click and wanders off to find his own suite, yawning widely as he goes.
Finally in the privacy of his own chambers, the elf unbuckles his sword-belt, letting the scabbard fall to the floor with a clunk. Once out of his boots and armour, Kyne peels off his shirt and goes looking for the promised tub. He finishes undressing and arranges his things while it runs, setting the worn items aside for Seb'riel to prestidigitate later, and standing Daedagnír and Fìrambar against the wall near the bed. He also digs his formal clothes out of his pack and lays them aside for later. It's nice to have a reason to wear them for a change.
Once the bath is ready, Kyne clambers in and settles into the tub with a sigh of release, letting the warmth spread through his body and chase the cold away. He cricks his nick left and right, before closing his eyes and just letting the grime drift off him for a few moments. Once all the adrenaline has finally faded away and the warmth has eased his aching muscles, the elf sits up and goes about properly cleaning himself and washing his hair. He takes his time, well aware that it's not every day he gets to enjoy a full bath, and when he's finally finished he towels himself down and combs the tangles out of his twisting, dark locks, before stretching out under the covers of the bed. Not long later he's fast asleep, and doesn't wake until late in the day.
When Kyne finally rises, he slips on a comfortably loose white shirt and some simple leather trousers. He hesitates, about to leave, and then slips his sword-belt back on as an afterthought, before heading to meet with the others in Moltaris's room to investigate Morlainne's chest.
It seems he's the first to arrive, and the elf leans up against the door frame with one arm before knocking on the door. When the priestess cracks it to see who is there, she's immediately confronted by Kyne's broad grin.
"'Morning' Molly," he declares, well aware that it has not been morning for some time. "Did you sleep well?"
He strolls inside before she can answer, deftly nabbing a piece of left over food from the servant's platter.
"Shall we take a look at what 'Mistress Morlainne' has left for us then?" He asks, flipping open the lid a few moments before Hurosk arrives. He laughs out loud when he sees the disappointment on the half-orc's face.
"Don't worry buddy," he replies, tossing the longbow across the room to the ranger. "Something for everyone - I hope anyway. Seb should be able to tell us if any of this is magical."
He turns the silver raven statue over in his hands a few times, before laying it aside.
"I think I know what that is though. I've come across them before."
Kyne continues to root through the chest, and lets out a low whistle when he finally gets the smaller box unlocked.
"Plenty to go around in here too!"
He glances over his shoulder at the others who have gathered in the meantime, and the elf's gaze lingers on Mathilda for a moment, smirking when he sees the beetroot colour to her face.
"You alright there Tilda? Did Lord Twinkletoes stop by and offer you eternity yet?"
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
Moltaris accompanies the others downstairs, and goes to her suite to secure the treasure trunk. A few moments later, though, she slips out of her rooms and goes back up to the roof.
She takes several deep breaths and then folds her legs and drops to a sitting position facing the brightening horizon. Light is coming over the world, and after such a night of darkness, I need to commune with my kindred in the Light
As the light grows in the sky, she closes her eyes and opens her mind to the quori ancestor spirits.
The sunlight washes over her
with
the scent of YELLOW
the color of YES
the taste of PEACE
Then flashes of vicious battle against innumerable foes - the shrieking of her beloved and the fall of all that was.
She dies a hundred times in a second and is reborn a hundredfold - different bodies, different places, different mothers, different faces.
Sweat pours from her body, washing away the ash and blood. When her eyes fly open, they glow a vivid purple, and her hair floats in a crackling halo of energy about her. Then, with a snap only audible to her, the glow vanishes and the energy is gone.
I am Mol of the line of Taris
Mol, daughter of Taris
Yannahilath of the Path of Light
Shadow Walker of Taratai
She finds her way to her feet and walks slowly back to her suite to bathe and rest.
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...
Mathilda sinks even deeper into her chair. "I'm okay, I uh... I couldn't sleep last night, and he stopped by and uh...", even her ears are crimson now, "he gave me this." She pulls at her clothes, and suddenly they transform from ordinary travelling clothes to a warm coat and hat, lined with thick fur on the inside, big snow boots and a pair of warm trousers. Mathilda tugs again and the clothes change into an elaborate ball gown. The expensive outfit looks terribly out of place with Mathilda's hair, worn up in a simple braid. She admires the dress, touching it very carefully. "I have never owned something this precious. Never thought I ever would..." Lost in thought, she keeps looking at different parts of the dress. Her facial expressions change between amazement and something like sadness, perhaps even confusion. I can't say I don't blame him for using that mind-controlling magic, but he could have let that vampire tear me to shreds, he could have left us all to burn in that tower. Maybe some monsters really are trying to redeem themselves. He has been nothing but kind to me, and last night...
When she looks up again, she remembers where she is and quickly tugs at the sleeve of her dress, changing back into ordinary clothes. Eager to shift the focus off herself, she asks: "Did everyone else have a good rest? You look like you're feeling betters this morning, Lyreis? We are going to the ball later, right? I was wondering... do any of you know how to dance?"
"Thank you, yes I feel much better. I apologise for my abrupt departure yesterday, I need to talk to you all about that though." Lyreis goes to the drinks stand and pours himself a glass of wine. Sipping from it, he nods at the quality and places his glass down carefully. "Something happened to me yesterday, you all saw when I felt the beginning of it but as the morning passed it developed further." Unbuttoning his tunic, he strips off showing his upper body to the assembled group, the tattoo fresh and visible over his shoulder and reaching for his neck. "This is what caused me the pain, it also brought with it other things which I need to investigate more fully. I seem to be able ot cast two spells, although I do not know how, one is something I have seen Kyne do, I can send a line of lightning out from my hand and use it to pull something towards me. I can also create a magical shield that protects me for a short while, although I do not believe I could do that often without rest. They are clearly connected to this Mark, the pain that surges through the tattoo when I use the power cannot be a coincidence." He moves to the window, facing away from the group one hand reaching for the frame to rest against as he continues.
"There was something else, I do not believe it was connected with the Mark, but possibly this change in me has left me vulnerable to other things but I know so little of this world I would ask for your thoughts and advice. The sleep I fell into after we parted was as deep as I have ever had, but I seem to have had some sort of vision or been contacted by something. A great golden eye with a slit through it came out of the blackest of darknesses to dominate everything in my mind, and a voice that shook me to my core said two words - Discover. Help. When I was meditating earlier it happened again. I believe something has tried to give me a message, that I am needed, most probably that we are needed. But I do not know enough to go forward. Seb, you have the gifts of the seer, could you help me find out more? Moltaris, you may have great insight to offer I would welcome it. Kyne, your powers seem most like the ones I can use, you may need to help me understand them fully. Hurosk, the Mark I bear, maybe you have come across something similar in your travels? And you Mathilda, you are the youngest of us all, if you do not feel you can help me in any way with this then save me a dance later and you will help ease the heaviness of my heart. In truth, I consider myself very blessed to have found you all, you have so many skills between you. I wonder why the power that is trying to contact us choose the one whose only true skill is killing things, but then maybe that is the task we are required for....."
Lyreis drinks again, a smile on his lips. "I was thinking earlier that the war has taken most of my life from me, the chances for merriment and diversion have been few in truth, and I am tempted now to ask that we all forget what I have just said for a time and spend the evening together as friends, just to celebrate both our victory and a future spent in each others company." Raising his glass to the others he adds "To you all."
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
Kyne raises an amused eyebrow when Mathilda mentions that Lord Thrinderand did indeed visit her in her chambers. He's about to open his mouth for another teasing quip, but stops as he sees Lyreis begin to explain his behaviour from the night before. The elf turns to face his friend, sitting cross-legged in front of the big chest as he listens intently to the full story.
"That's quite a tale," he muses once Lyreis is done, raising his glass in return.
"Tomorrow, we will train together. It's been some time since I had a real duel, and I could use a sparring partner. We can use the time to see what you can do as well. Tonight though, we celebrate," Kyne asserts firmly, rising to grasp his friend firmly by the forearm and clapping him on the shoulder with the other hand.
Turning back to the trunk, he deftly tosses the silver raven figurine to Mathilda, assuming she will catch it.
"You might want to have Seb take a look at that, but it should turn into a raven that will bring messages to people for you. There'll be a command word. Useful if you're ranging ahead."
After that, Kyne goes about dividing the coin amongst the group, though he sets aside the gems for later sale.
Once the loot has been distributed and accounted for, the sorcerer quietly takes his sister aside.
"Right. Seb, I've been thinking... I know our approaches to magic differ, but... I've been watching you work. Will you help me learn to fly? I think I can figure it out, based on what I've seen you do. Fire may be more my thing, but I have some skill with air magic. You know the arcane though. I thought you might have some tips?"
He's almost sheepish as he asks. Looking to his little sister for guidance clearly isn't the most natural approach for him. Typically, he prefers to work these things out alone. Flight though... flight comes with certain risks that it would be unwise to underestimate.
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
Molly punches Kyne in the chest, a solid blow but with a flicker of affectionate amusement across her features while she does it, then turns to follow him. She is still clad in her simple leathers, rapier and shield against the wall. As the others arrive, they find that wine has been poured and ready for them.
Listening to Mathilda, she controls her features to avoid expressing her visceral reaction. Softly, she only replies, "Save us, he may have done - that I will grant him and I will express my thanks to his face. Protect this settlement, he may do. But still, he is what he is and he lives on the blood of the living." Falling silent, she listens to Lyreis. When he finishes, she raises her glass as well.
"To US all - perhaps in bringing us together, that fey creatures has done more than mere mischief."
After the toast, she continues, "I know little of such marks, though I have heard of them in my hunt. Do we know what power causes them?"
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...
"Oh! Well isn't this nice!" Hurosk holds the bow up, giving it a thorough examination. "Can't wait to give this a try!"
The half-orc picks up a glass and returns the salute. He steps over to Lyreis and begins rolling up the sleeve of his new, fancy shirt. "I'm quite familiar with markings that will give you some power." He reveals his own mark on his forearm which continues up, disappearing under his shirt. "Many of us in House Tharashk who have taken up the family business have about the same mark as mine. We get it as sort of a rite of passage. Helps give us that edge when we're tracking our prey, making it hard for them to hide from us. Like that vampire. I could feel him sulking about the tower though I couldn't see him. Though, I wasn't quick enough to give Thilda here the heads up before he tried biting her... Sorry, about that," he says turning to the rogue, clearly disappointed he was unable to warn her.
He passes his hand over it, remembering what it was like when it was bestowed to him. "It wasn't this large when I first got it. It seems to grow with me and my travels and as I successfully complete my jobs. Though, I can't say that I hear any voices since I've had the thing."
Looking uncomfortably at Mathilda's tale of Thinderand's generosity, Seb'riel keeps quiet. It is not her place to talk of expectations that usually follow such gifts. Under her breath she murmurs about there always being a price though, especially with gifts that encourage your femininity and nods wholeheartedly at Moltaris' summary of the situation. Usually she would be more curious, but Vampires now bored her, she had probably more information than would be useful for her needs on that topic.
She listens intently to Lyreis' tale however but her face grows wide with protest at the end. "Lyreis! You cruel tease! You present a mystery then ask that I do not answer think of it immediately. I would sit with you and have more details, I am certain I could reach the bottom of it all with a little time. As for your visions, I can attempt to explore them with you. I have much experience in learning to control such things, but it takes time and experience. I will tell you this though. They always strike me now when I am least in control of my mind. When I am tired or injured and my defences are not as they should be. When Morlainne wished to access my talents she would feed on my blood, or in the early days would beat or cut me until I could not help but focus on her question and the visions would come to the fore. The last time..." She fixes Kyne with a sideways stare as she finishes the sentence, worried of his reaction to mention of her previous capture "The first time I was taken for my gift, they would use herbs and unnatural substances to remove me from my sense of the present to force my visions and ensure I would communicate them in full." She seems to be avoiding saying something directly at first, but then just comes to it. "I was too weak and should have been able to resist. The drugs brought the visions, but my weakness is what led me to share them. I did not suffer from such shortcomings this time." She breathes out. "My point though, is that perhaps the weariness induced by the battle and stress of yesterday may have opened you up to a vision that had been trying to enter your consciousness for some time."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Raising an eyebrow at Kyne's request, Seb'riel is caught by surprise at her brother's willingness to study something. She quickly warms to the idea though and nods enthusiastically. "It would be nice to teach you something of a finer form of magic! And to fly together, think how far we could go so fast and so free!" She holds his arm, suddenly more serious. "First I must tell you though, what all this was for. Why I allowed myself to be captured. We need to talk of it alone, but soon."
Mathilda listens carefully to Lyreis, a worried frown forming on her forehead. When he mentions that she could dance with him to help him though, she laughs. "I will save you a dance, but I really only know the simple ones we did at home. Nothing fancy that I imagine rich folk dance at a ball." She raises her glass back at him. When Moltaris cautions Mathilda about Thrinderand, she listens and presses her lips together, not finding anything false in Moltaris' words. She is right, he is a vampire, and yet... he seems so different from that monstrous lady at the lake. A shiver passes over her at the memory of Morlainne, and the vampire who tried to kill her when she stabbed his lover. Shrugging it off, she tries to focus on the present. Her new-found friends, the luxurious room she is in, the glass of wine in her hand. "Don't worry Hurosk, it was not your fault, and I'm alright, we all are."
The little raven figurine feels entirely normal in Mathilda's hands. She takes it over to Seb'riel and holds it out like a foreign object: "So, uhm, how do I make this send a message?"
Seb turns the little trinket over in her fingers.
"There should be a command word, I would need to examine it for a few minutes to have it give up its secrets to me, but that should not be a problem."
Kyne grins broadly at Molly's reaction, but does not comment.
"That isn't any known family mark though," Kyne observes when Hurosk starts to discuss what he knows of dragonmarks.
"It's too tangled and chaotic. I'd be careful who you show that to. Great wars have been fought to wipe those possessing 'aberrant' dragonmarks."
"The roof then?" Kyne asks Seb'riel with a smirk. "Two birds with one stone?"
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
“That was exactly my thought when I sent you here” says a familiar voice all of a sudden in the room.
They all turn and see the satyr lying on Moltaris bed, with a cup of wine in one hand.
” I’ve noticed that you didn’t pour a glass of wine for me but don’t you worry, I have mine “
he smiles raises his cup and drinks from it.
PbP Character: A few ;)