This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Come one, come all. Any foolhardy enough Lost Soul may present themselves at Her Royal Highness's main gate to withstand THE TRIALS in hope of new life.
Welcome, traveling Lost Soul. This will be an adventure for D&D 5e, playing through The Yawning Portal. Level 1 to "higher", I only have three rules.
1. You are what you do. Ask questions ooc, unless they are what your character would say.
2. I love creativity. Take risks. If you have questions, ask me.
3. Post once a day, or so. I won't run away without you, but be diligent. Don't make me come after yo ass. Otherwise I don't care much about what POV or tense you use.
Ahem.
Posts shall be structured as follows.
Rolls go here.
Minute goes here.
Any questions?
....Of course you do.
Example:
Stealth check: 10
Agent X peers forth, setting her sights on the nearby table. Target locked, she waits for the guard to pass and dashes for the next hiding spot.
Now you do it.
I await you at the gates, to take you to see Her Royal Highness. Wear your best. Or whatever you think will help your poor Lost Soul.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
OOC: Here's a character I just had an idea for, a warforged necromancer creatively going by the name Bone Golem. If you don't like the idea of a robot decorating itself with bones and trying to create Frankensteinian monsters I totally understand and can come up with something else. https://ddb.ac/characters/12569246/hWPZ8h
Stealth Roll: 8
Bone Golem sneakily sneaks into the graveyard to collect "raw materials"... (Or not so sneakily as it turns out.)
OOC: Hello! I'm excited to develop another character and party. I was thinking of a kobold rogue.
Weighing in at just 32lbs and 27in short, a lone kobold like I is no threat. I'm even weaker than most kobolds! All have a task to do; no shame. I's thrive in search and sneak, not work nor fight.
It's unfortunate to say, but by some manner or another -- yet always as She predicts -- you have died. It is impossible to say what measure of time has passed since your soul left the Material Plane, wandering the glittering obsidian and silver city known as Letherna for as long as you can remember...and somehow it was just moments ago you could remember that spark of life. It's maddening. Everything is dusted softly in white, a neverending snow falling from the sky. The city imposes on all sides, all roads leading back in some path or another to the great black metal gates that sit at the entrances to Her Royal Highness's palace. The gates stand closed at all times, an unending darkness swirling beyond them.
Come one, come all. Any foolhardy enough Lost Soul may present themselves at Her Royal Highness's main gate to withstand THE TRIALS in hope of new life is carved on the black wooden sign outside your favorite bar in this sleepless city, carefully scrolled letters painted with silver ink. You have seen them everywhere over the city lately -- or have they always been there? -- and your feet have led you to the indomitable black gates.
A slim blonde elf garbed in a black dress trimmed in white stands before the gates to the palace, hands folded neatly before her. She stands at attention, waiting for some unseen signal before smiling at those assembled. "Come now, Lost Souls. It is time to meet Her Royal Highness. Feel blessed, you few souls who shall see within the walls of the Fortress of Memories."
Turning to the gate, she knocks three times which reverberate shakingly throughout the city like gong strikes, an ominous silence falling before the black monstrosities slowly creaked open with a painful grind of metal-on-metal. The elf leads the way within, stepping lightly along the floor here and there. Torches flare into light every ten feet, guiding a path through a labyrinth of darkness.
As you pass the threshold and step deeper into the unfamiliar domain, an unnatural chill settle over you. In all your time within the perpetually winter city, this is the first time the weather has felt colder than a middersummer's afternoon. Deeper and deeper you veture, trusting the pathway of light. It starts softly, like a whisper or the brush of fabric on stone, but soon at every turn, you hear a scream. At each crossing, sobs. Joy, grief, anger, sorrow press in upon you from all sides, as present and intangible as the ominous darkness beyond the small pools of protective light. "She lights the path for us. Without her, we would lose our way in the Fortress and go mad," the elf explains reverently, avoiding the skeletal remains of a long ago deceased traveler. Large, inhuman red eyes blink at you from the depths. Further and further the elf leads you into the belly of the keep, the magnitude of the emotions resonating within the walls staggering.
As it nears unbearable, a small black door appears before your party, which the elf pushes open and bows you in.
Before you is a throne room. Seven black columns stand sentinel around this cavernous room, each ebony structure carved in the relief of a beautiful woman from a different race, all heads bowed reverently to the woman on the dais in the center of the room. Silver and obsidian span the walls and floor of this palace, an ever changing mosaic, hard to pin in theme beyond something that seems to evoke strong emotions within you, be them warm or negative.
All in this room pales in comparison to the dark radiance emanating from the figure sat upon the starlight and ebony throne, carved in the shape of an open-winged bird. She wears robes in a rich shade of maroon, accented with deep blue stitching and black lace touches around the porcelain white throat.. A black beaked mask covers her face, but does not hide her midnight locks nor her unexplainably charismatic draw. Being in her mere presence imparts a sense of maddening dread wreathed in a mother's adoration.
The elf grins behind you. "Poor Lost Souls, you stand before The Raven Queen. Present yourself before her now and pray your worthiness shall grant you access to The Trial."
The slender golem with a glowing orb inset in a darkwood body carved to look like an emaciated humanoid stood before The Raven Queen. "This unit greets The Queen. It is formally BG-004; my kind are collectively known as Bone Golems. This unit was destroyed in the Last War. It was puzzled to learn upon its destruction that its programming continues to function. This unit is programmed by its creator to recycle inert biological matter into new lifeforms. The absence of physical biological matter in this realm renders this Bone Golem without a purpose. This unit requests entry back into a physical world with biological matter so that it may once again function." BG-004 bows deeply, and takes a step back. "This unit cedes the floor to other petitioners. End of communication."
Wandering aimlessly in a place unfamiliar for an immeasurable time, what's a kobold to do but start tunneling. Tirelessly creating more and more beneath the city, it keeps the claws sharp and mind focused. Popping up, and scratching his scaly scalp, Chomp slowly reads and re-reads a sign he's seen now numerous times. Shaking away the chill in his spine, a mix of fear and curiosity starts to fill his draconic heart. Drawn inexplicably to the obsidian gates, he waits nervously in the shadows.
Reacting meekly to the loud door screech, the black hooded cloak quickly envelopes his slender form. Holding it together tightly, Chomp slinkily follows behind the assembled group. Scurrying from just inside torch light to torch light, each noise causing the small kobold to jump and hustle to the next. By the time the escort reaches the destination, the black-scaled kobold is sniveling and teary. Entering the throne room, Chomp slides over to the nearest column on all fours and huddles against it for any safety it might grant.
Taking his tail in hand, he slowly gnaws on it as a nervous tick with his gleaming maw as he watches the assembled.
Ishtok remembers only bright light and deafening thunder before the ashen city. After that, nothing. Or as close to nothing as he can imagine. His detached emotions float further from his mind than usual, and his ever-present urging to survive is suspended in a mute, torturous haze. There are no predators here, and no prey. The only thing to draw the eye is a silvery message, seemingly written wherever he turns in the ashen city. He has read it many many times, and now he reads it again; turns away and not twenty paces later it is there yet again. His instincts flare up as he stares at the latest rendition of the message, identical to the multitudinous others.
New life.
The rest of the dully shining script fades as he focuses on those two words, and he makes his way to the massive dark gates, his instincts pricking at his brain like a hot knife. I may live again. He is not alone at the gates, and he feels an unfamiliar tingling between his shoulder blades as the small group follows an Elf-woman into the palace. There is more wandering. Strange sounds issue from everywhere and yet nowhere, and foreign emotions clamor for space inside his mind until finally a door looms before them. The talk of Her Highness and Lost Souls finally finds purchase on his brain as that unfamiliar tingling shifts and swells into a distant, albeit insistent dread. Before him, he is told, is the Raven Queen, and mixed with that dread is an equally unfamiliar reverence. Lizardfolk respect those that are strong, whether it be of body or of mind. Wit can kill as easily as a spear, but the presence of the Raven Queen makes the pricking of his instincts flash wildly. He feels both drawn to her and yet deathly afraid as he kneels before her as best he knows how.
"This one is Ishtok. I wish to live again," he states simply. He rises and takes a place by the one who calls itself Golem, and waits.
Regna was a Loxodon warrior of light, he vanquished many threats to peace and he laid down his life to save his party from certain doom. Traveling the void of afterlife he could help but miss it. The thrill of the fight and being with alive, what shame he felt. Once he heard that he could get a second chance he couldn't help but think what if, making his through the labyrinth he bowes and introduced himself.
"I am Regna Paladin of Light. I seek a second chance to be reborn again and live my life a new."
The Raven Queen listens from her silvered throne to each introduction, her eyes scanning the room. She does not miss her fourth champion hidden behind the pillar, but allows him to lurk in the shadows unperturbed. Long, dark nails drum melodically against her stone seat, watching each of you in silence for some time. "You all are very weak," the Raven Queen informs the group at large, crossing her legs at the knees. Her voice is deeper than you expect, but smooth as velvet as she address you for the first time. The mask upon her face does nothing to dampen her clear words. "You will need to find greater strength before you may take on my trial. It is fortuitous for each of you that I have just the thing to empower my Champions."
Raising a slender, pale hand, she motions to the column closest to the group. The woman carved within, a beautiful human with flowing hair, is outlined in deep red as she cracks free of the pillar. Pushing herself from the ebony prison, she steps free onto the stone floor to reveal a portal hidden inside the column behind her body, a glittering green and blue oval with poorly defined edges, pulsating to a steady, unheard rhythm. "This is your first preparation, Champions. Bring me back an apple pale as ice. That is all." She shifts her legs and leans her chin on her hand, propped on the arm of her chair.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Regna follows the construct thinking to himself "An apple as pale as ice?" As he continues he will think back to his religious days and see if this is referenced to something he has heard or seen.
Religion: 20
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Felix Windfall (Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA,Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiA
Ishtok commits the task to memory and says "It will be done," and follows the Golem as well. The Golem calls them companions, but he wonders. Can all of them succeed, in the end? Or will only one be granted the gift of new life?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Come one, come all. Any foolhardy enough Lost Soul may present themselves at Her Royal Highness's main gate to withstand THE TRIALS in hope of new life.
Welcome, traveling Lost Soul. This will be an adventure for D&D 5e, playing through The Yawning Portal. Level 1 to "higher", I only have three rules.
1. You are what you do. Ask questions ooc, unless they are what your character would say.
2. I love creativity. Take risks. If you have questions, ask me.
3. Post once a day, or so. I won't run away without you, but be diligent. Don't make me come after yo ass. Otherwise I don't care much about what POV or tense you use.
Ahem.
Posts shall be structured as follows.
Rolls go here.
Minute goes here.
Any questions?
....Of course you do.
Example:
Stealth check: 10
Agent X peers forth, setting her sights on the nearby table. Target locked, she waits for the guard to pass and dashes for the next hiding spot.
Now you do it.
I await you at the gates, to take you to see Her Royal Highness. Wear your best. Or whatever you think will help your poor Lost Soul.
14
OOC: [ The "r" in roll should be lower case. Did you want to roll stats or did you prefer a standard/pointbuy?]
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAOoc BeastyC: Either or. Standard or 4 d 6 drop the lowest.
OOC: Here's a character I just had an idea for, a warforged necromancer creatively going by the name Bone Golem. If you don't like the idea of a robot decorating itself with bones and trying to create Frankensteinian monsters I totally understand and can come up with something else. https://ddb.ac/characters/12569246/hWPZ8h
Stealth Roll: 8
Bone Golem sneakily sneaks into the graveyard to collect "raw materials"... (Or not so sneakily as it turns out.)
Ooc: Joan Bone Golem looks like it shall be a fun addition!
And I need roll calls from the rest of you. Just tell me once you're here to appease me and we will get shaking.
ooc: checking in!
Ability score: 13 14 9 8 14 13
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAOOC: Hello! I'm excited to develop another character and party. I was thinking of a kobold rogue.
Weighing in at just 32lbs and 27in short, a lone kobold like I is no threat. I'm even weaker than most kobolds! All have a task to do; no shame. I's thrive in search and sneak, not work nor fight.
Ooc: looks good
It's unfortunate to say, but by some manner or another -- yet always as She predicts -- you have died. It is impossible to say what measure of time has passed since your soul left the Material Plane, wandering the glittering obsidian and silver city known as Letherna for as long as you can remember...and somehow it was just moments ago you could remember that spark of life. It's maddening. Everything is dusted softly in white, a neverending snow falling from the sky. The city imposes on all sides, all roads leading back in some path or another to the great black metal gates that sit at the entrances to Her Royal Highness's palace. The gates stand closed at all times, an unending darkness swirling beyond them.
Come one, come all. Any foolhardy enough Lost Soul may present themselves at Her Royal Highness's main gate to withstand THE TRIALS in hope of new life is carved on the black wooden sign outside your favorite bar in this sleepless city, carefully scrolled letters painted with silver ink. You have seen them everywhere over the city lately -- or have they always been there? -- and your feet have led you to the indomitable black gates.
A slim blonde elf garbed in a black dress trimmed in white stands before the gates to the palace, hands folded neatly before her. She stands at attention, waiting for some unseen signal before smiling at those assembled. "Come now, Lost Souls. It is time to meet Her Royal Highness. Feel blessed, you few souls who shall see within the walls of the Fortress of Memories."
Turning to the gate, she knocks three times which reverberate shakingly throughout the city like gong strikes, an ominous silence falling before the black monstrosities slowly creaked open with a painful grind of metal-on-metal. The elf leads the way within, stepping lightly along the floor here and there. Torches flare into light every ten feet, guiding a path through a labyrinth of darkness.
As you pass the threshold and step deeper into the unfamiliar domain, an unnatural chill settle over you. In all your time within the perpetually winter city, this is the first time the weather has felt colder than a middersummer's afternoon. Deeper and deeper you veture, trusting the pathway of light. It starts softly, like a whisper or the brush of fabric on stone, but soon at every turn, you hear a scream. At each crossing, sobs. Joy, grief, anger, sorrow press in upon you from all sides, as present and intangible as the ominous darkness beyond the small pools of protective light. "She lights the path for us. Without her, we would lose our way in the Fortress and go mad," the elf explains reverently, avoiding the skeletal remains of a long ago deceased traveler. Large, inhuman red eyes blink at you from the depths. Further and further the elf leads you into the belly of the keep, the magnitude of the emotions resonating within the walls staggering.
As it nears unbearable, a small black door appears before your party, which the elf pushes open and bows you in.
Before you is a throne room. Seven black columns stand sentinel around this cavernous room, each ebony structure carved in the relief of a beautiful woman from a different race, all heads bowed reverently to the woman on the dais in the center of the room. Silver and obsidian span the walls and floor of this palace, an ever changing mosaic, hard to pin in theme beyond something that seems to evoke strong emotions within you, be them warm or negative.
All in this room pales in comparison to the dark radiance emanating from the figure sat upon the starlight and ebony throne, carved in the shape of an open-winged bird. She wears robes in a rich shade of maroon, accented with deep blue stitching and black lace touches around the porcelain white throat.. A black beaked mask covers her face, but does not hide her midnight locks nor her unexplainably charismatic draw. Being in her mere presence imparts a sense of maddening dread wreathed in a mother's adoration.
The elf grins behind you. "Poor Lost Souls, you stand before The Raven Queen. Present yourself before her now and pray your worthiness shall grant you access to The Trial."
The slender golem with a glowing orb inset in a darkwood body carved to look like an emaciated humanoid stood before The Raven Queen. "This unit greets The Queen. It is formally BG-004; my kind are collectively known as Bone Golems. This unit was destroyed in the Last War. It was puzzled to learn upon its destruction that its programming continues to function. This unit is programmed by its creator to recycle inert biological matter into new lifeforms. The absence of physical biological matter in this realm renders this Bone Golem without a purpose. This unit requests entry back into a physical world with biological matter so that it may once again function." BG-004 bows deeply, and takes a step back. "This unit cedes the floor to other petitioners. End of communication."
Wandering aimlessly in a place unfamiliar for an immeasurable time, what's a kobold to do but start tunneling. Tirelessly creating more and more beneath the city, it keeps the claws sharp and mind focused. Popping up, and scratching his scaly scalp, Chomp slowly reads and re-reads a sign he's seen now numerous times. Shaking away the chill in his spine, a mix of fear and curiosity starts to fill his draconic heart. Drawn inexplicably to the obsidian gates, he waits nervously in the shadows.
Reacting meekly to the loud door screech, the black hooded cloak quickly envelopes his slender form. Holding it together tightly, Chomp slinkily follows behind the assembled group. Scurrying from just inside torch light to torch light, each noise causing the small kobold to jump and hustle to the next. By the time the escort reaches the destination, the black-scaled kobold is sniveling and teary. Entering the throne room, Chomp slides over to the nearest column on all fours and huddles against it for any safety it might grant.
Taking his tail in hand, he slowly gnaws on it as a nervous tick with his gleaming maw as he watches the assembled.
Ishtok remembers only bright light and deafening thunder before the ashen city. After that, nothing. Or as close to nothing as he can imagine. His detached emotions float further from his mind than usual, and his ever-present urging to survive is suspended in a mute, torturous haze. There are no predators here, and no prey. The only thing to draw the eye is a silvery message, seemingly written wherever he turns in the ashen city. He has read it many many times, and now he reads it again; turns away and not twenty paces later it is there yet again. His instincts flare up as he stares at the latest rendition of the message, identical to the multitudinous others.
New life.
The rest of the dully shining script fades as he focuses on those two words, and he makes his way to the massive dark gates, his instincts pricking at his brain like a hot knife. I may live again. He is not alone at the gates, and he feels an unfamiliar tingling between his shoulder blades as the small group follows an Elf-woman into the palace. There is more wandering. Strange sounds issue from everywhere and yet nowhere, and foreign emotions clamor for space inside his mind until finally a door looms before them. The talk of Her Highness and Lost Souls finally finds purchase on his brain as that unfamiliar tingling shifts and swells into a distant, albeit insistent dread. Before him, he is told, is the Raven Queen, and mixed with that dread is an equally unfamiliar reverence. Lizardfolk respect those that are strong, whether it be of body or of mind. Wit can kill as easily as a spear, but the presence of the Raven Queen makes the pricking of his instincts flash wildly. He feels both drawn to her and yet deathly afraid as he kneels before her as best he knows how.
"This one is Ishtok. I wish to live again," he states simply. He rises and takes a place by the one who calls itself Golem, and waits.
Regna was a Loxodon warrior of light, he vanquished many threats to peace and he laid down his life to save his party from certain doom. Traveling the void of afterlife he could help but miss it. The thrill of the fight and being with alive, what shame he felt. Once he heard that he could get a second chance he couldn't help but think what if, making his through the labyrinth he bowes and introduced himself.
"I am Regna Paladin of Light. I seek a second chance to be reborn again and live my life a new."
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAOoc: Sorry y'all I've been under the weather. I will post when I get up tonight!
(OOC: No problem, we all understand I'm sure! Hope you're starting to feel better.)
The Raven Queen listens from her silvered throne to each introduction, her eyes scanning the room. She does not miss her fourth champion hidden behind the pillar, but allows him to lurk in the shadows unperturbed. Long, dark nails drum melodically against her stone seat, watching each of you in silence for some time. "You all are very weak," the Raven Queen informs the group at large, crossing her legs at the knees. Her voice is deeper than you expect, but smooth as velvet as she address you for the first time. The mask upon her face does nothing to dampen her clear words. "You will need to find greater strength before you may take on my trial. It is fortuitous for each of you that I have just the thing to empower my Champions."
Raising a slender, pale hand, she motions to the column closest to the group. The woman carved within, a beautiful human with flowing hair, is outlined in deep red as she cracks free of the pillar. Pushing herself from the ebony prison, she steps free onto the stone floor to reveal a portal hidden inside the column behind her body, a glittering green and blue oval with poorly defined edges, pulsating to a steady, unheard rhythm. "This is your first preparation, Champions. Bring me back an apple pale as ice. That is all." She shifts her legs and leans her chin on her hand, propped on the arm of her chair.
"Be diligent. And do not fail me."
The Bone Golem salutes The Raven Queen, and makes its way to the portal. "Follow me, biological companions. We have a purpose once more!"
Regna follows the construct thinking to himself "An apple as pale as ice?" As he continues he will think back to his religious days and see if this is referenced to something he has heard or seen.
Religion: 20
Felix Windfall(Human-V Lv.7 Rogue) killed in ToA, Vallan Houndstrider (Halfling Ghostwise Lv.1 Fighter) in DiAIshtok commits the task to memory and says "It will be done," and follows the Golem as well. The Golem calls them companions, but he wonders. Can all of them succeed, in the end? Or will only one be granted the gift of new life?