This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Gwyllen feels the rug wrap its hot grip around her, fire of her own making scorching her skin and hair, the fowl stink of the fabric and her own flesh filling her nostrils with noxious fumes. Her eyes and lungs scream for moisture and air and she feels the life begin to leave her body.
Closing her eyes and holding her mouth closed for split second, her lets out a final rasping breath, croaking what may be her last words weakly and managing a sad smile.
"Eskaintzen didazun guztia sufrimendua bada" *wheeze*
"erregutzen dut" *wheeze*
"sufrimenduaren dohaina emateko".
She begins flicking her nails against the fabric until one of the them catches in the weave and she presses with all her might, feeling the knuckle dislocate as the keratin begins to separate from the skin. Feeling the slightest patch of her fingertip hit the fabric, she begins shrieking, icy flames erupting from every pore.
Hellish Rebuke – All it says is I need to point my finger after being damaged. 😉
This is a bonus reaction to your damage.
4
As the life drains from her body, she whispers - ""Entzun al duzu?"
A thunderous wave booms out of her, muffled only by the rug surrounding her.
Thunderclap - Make a constitution throw DC 13 or take 1d6 Thunder damage.
Pressure is building all around Gwyllen. What little air she has left is chocked with soot and smoke, blocking her ability to breath. The rug reacts to the warlock's magic, but doubling down on its twisting and churning the life out of her. There is only rage, pain, and darkness in her last few moments.
Memories well up on the edge of everything, and she can see from one end of her existence to the other. Some images fly by quicker than others, some linger. The happiest and the most foul are relived with their full emotional weight and then some. Eventually, they send her reeling into Shadow and the arms of her Queen.
Somewhere in the distance, a high-pitched voice screams in negative rebuke and a flash of color momentarily blocks the image of a pale, sunken face and sad grey eyes.
Gwyllen hears a whisper of gratitude, feels a kiss on her forehead, and then nothing...but feminine maniacal laughter.
-------------------
The sound finally fades and in the darkness, a voice speaks. It's slow, pert, and dripping with judgment...
*sigh*"How many times do I have to tell you to get up off the ground?"
Gwyllen flickers her eyelids a few times, taking a deep breath and feeling her lungs moving freely. She lets out a deep sigh and, with another deep breath, stands. Her surroundings are familiar, like a distant memory, and she walks toward the voice with purpose, allowing her equilibrium to settle.
As she walks, she lets her shoulders roll back and whispers a soft prayer. “Zure zerbitzaria naiz, ama.”
A downy coat of feathers blossoms across her bare form as she approaches the dais.
Setting her hand on the chair across from the cloaked form, she focused the energy flowing through her and warms the seat, letting it spread across the ground and up into the other seat as well. Why not make everyone a little bit more comfortable? she thinks to herself.
Breathing in the clean air, yet again, and trying to ignore the mephitic scent on the breeze, she gracefully takes her seat and leans against the table, folding her hands.
“I’m honestly not sure how many times its been at this point. Please don’t let me keep you.” she smiles with a look of congeniality.
Still greatly enjoying the ambrosial feeling of the air on her lungs, she continues to take meditative breaths as she closes her eyes, waiting for a response.
She lets her senses expand around her, letting her Fey touched mind run its fingers along the lay lines of this place, searching for hidden knowledge and energy.
Good ol' Prestidigitation and Fey Senses mix that I love to exploit.
"Too." ... "Many." ... "Times," says Master Galu from off to your right.
If she opens her eyes, she will see, Galu, Arnack, and the rug are all sitting to Omega's left towards the end of the dias, giving her varying degrees of waves. Arnack looks to be a bit worse for wear and he's not loaded with his pack at the moment.
"True," states Omega, continuing, "We've basically given up at this point, but she just keeps sending you back. Do you know how many times you killed Arnack, Sparkle Mat, and I?"
He stands up a bit, leans into her face, and holds his hand up with fingers splayed out, whispering, "More than 5...5 times, more than. Each." He sits back down with a bewildered face, shaking his head. (His breath was not nice.)
Exasperated he adds, "Did you at least remember your journey to the end this time?" She can see each of them leaning forward with anticipation.
Memory Check = Roll an Intelligence Check and a Wisdom Check, then average them, pls.
As she closes her eyes, the pulse of the gate in front of her almost overwhelms her senses. Once a few moments have passed, her mind expanses and can trace the varying directions the fey lines flow. Some run to the gate, some away, and a few aren't land-based and reach out for the stars above. They also vary in strength and something else, something more primal. She understands that if she concentrates enough, she could follow them and begin learning to read them like a map.
Giving Omega a raised eyebrow, Gwyllen turns towards the Tortles and… Sparkle Mat the Rug.
With a bit of disdain in her voice, she speaks. “I don’t pretend to understand the will of the Queen, but if I’ve killed you, which seems difficult to believe given my complete failure to perform on a regular basis, then she has brought you back as well. Perhaps the lot of you are as worthless as stepping stones in my journey.” She gives a tinny laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement.
Sighing and rolling her eyes, she gives Mat a once over. “Let’s not forget who killed who here, Sparkles. I’m sure Fiachra can attest to your unprovoked attacks, but no need to wake her from her slumber for something so petty as intraplanar murder.”
Raising her head to the strange sky, she leans back and breathes deeply. “Let us see what memories the journey has left me.”
Intelligence - 6
Wisdom - 16
Average - 11
I swear I’m going to master this roller at some point, but every time I think to make a more complex calculation, I realize I don’t care that much. :-P
As her mind pulls in what it can find, she opens her eyes and sets her gaze back on Omega's dark eyes.
"Perhaps I recall more than you all think... here's what I'll share."she realizes the attempt at deception is unnecessary, but feels inclined to play with their heads as much as she feels this whole situation is playing with hers. Might as well make things more fun if she's going to be here for the foreseeable eons.
Omega and Galu are entirely non-plussed about your antics, almost expectant that the conversation would go this way. Arnack and Sparkle Mat, however, are fully engrossed in what you have to say next. Omega rolls his hands at the wrist in the air, motioning for you to get on with it. Galu shifts in his seat and brings his palms together in a prayer-like manner. The two have a brief, yet punctuated under the breath conversation in a language she does not understand. Though, Gwyllen does get the impression that Omega is negating some form of request from Galu.
Meanwhile, Arnack, who has a black eye and swollen lip, smiles the best he can at you with dollop of hope and admiration. Sparkle M looks wounded by her words, but is slowly nodding and snuggling up to Arnack.
Her senses are a bit overwhelmed after reaching out to the fey lines, and the experience is clouded by her encounter with her queen. But, she remembers the basics of her journey...smoke, lack of air, blackness, then the log ride of memories with a deep plunge at every truly strong remembrance. Glimpses here and there of battles, encounters with powerful beings, childhood, etc. Gwyllen couldn't quite tell if she experienced them in order, but knows it was a big long flashback of her life.
Gwyllen furrows her brow, deep in thought, for a moment before raising her eyes up to the group. She smiles sadly at Arnack’s cherubic, bruised face and glances across the delicately detailed Mat before returning her steady gaze to Omega and Garu.
“I see nothing but pain and death, all the way back to my childhood. What more is there to know?” she shrugs in despair. “It seems you expect something more. Perhaps in 10 more deaths you will be more forthcoming, or in 10 of mine I will retain more memory.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her index finger and thumb around the bridge of her nose as anxiety, depression and annoyance throb in her skull.
“I’ll tell you what my memory holds, from end to beginning: I remember the rasping breaths of suffocation, the excruciating ice of power in my veins and the callous caress of feathers rasping along my trembling skin and into the deepest corners of my being. I remember being pulled from plane to plane with nothing but power to fill the void of nothingness that is my purpose. “I remember constantly being surrounded by loathsome company who rarely hold any sort of value in my meaningless quests of infiltration and destruction.
She sighs heavily, beginning to look pale and sickly as the energy around her boils with confusion and hatred – “I remember the smell of orcish blood in my mouth and the screams of their children as I eviscerated them, smashing their organs beneath my boots. I remember the chances for innocence and joy crushed by malicious tricks and a years of servitude. I remember the spray of my mother’s blood in my eyes as her throat was cut in my face as she was ****ed mercilessly.”
She looks at Omega pleadingly - “I have lost all purpose but to channel the power of the Raven; what more is there?! What do you expect? Here you are, with your impatience and boredom, waiting, always waiting. What is your purpose? Are you not but a sickly torture master?”
She turns to Galu “Am I a plaything of colorful death experiences to pepper your treatise to the Queen? It seems as though you’re trapped in the Queen’s maze just as I am.”
Looking to Arnack, she lowers her voice and casts her eyes down in despair. "I’m sorry if I bruised you… I don’t even remember. It seems that I am but a pillar of confused violence.”
She looks at Omega pleadingly - “I have lost all purpose but to channel the power of the Raven; what more is there?! What do you expect? Here you are, with your impatience and boredom, waiting, always waiting. What is your purpose? Are you not but a sickly torture master?”
She turns to Galu “Am I a plaything of colorful death experiences to pepper your treatise to the Queen? It seems as though you’re trapped in the Queen’s maze just as I am.”
Looking to Arnack, she lowers her voice and casts her eyes down in despair. "I’m sorry if I bruised you… I don’t even remember. It seems that I am but a pillar of confused violence.”
Omega's face falls and his eyes grow wide, stating, "Yes, young one, I am and we are all those things." He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, turning his head to Galu, who is in a state of incredulous wonder. Arnack and Sparkle M are badly keeping their excitement at bay and quietly applauding you, behind Galu's back.
"Exactly," he says. "Finally," he states with relief.
"You have fought to relive those memories so fiercely that not even the Queen could pry them from you," he explained and added, "That is not a small feat. Your memories must be quite exquisite to her if she's allowing us to continue."
Arnack seizes the moment while Galu is still flabbergasted at the turning of the tide, saying quickly, "No, Miss. You do not need to apologize. My bruises are... self-inflicted. I'm so happy for you." He side-eyes Galu after finishing, checking for any reaction. Sparkle M nods enthusiastically along with him, but also double-checks Galu for a response.
Hearing Arnack's voice finally brings Galu back to himself, and he bats a lazy hand at the other two to stop. "Everything." ... "We." ... "Do. ... "Is." ... "For." ... "The." ... "Queen," he says breathlessly, using his finger to emphasize the group to include her. He adds, "Never." ... "Forget." ... "The." ... "Raven." ... "Commands." ... "Us." ... "All."
At his final word, the Ravens on the Gate caw in triumph. Gwyllen can faintly hear that maniacal laughter echoing in their calls.
Omega turns his head to listen to the birds and appears to hear something, as well. He rubs his hand over his pale bald head, pushing his hood back a bit, and says with a lighter touch, "Then let us begin."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
With misty eyes, Gwyllen looks up into the mind-boggling dome of infinite space above them and blinks to stay her tears. She realizes that she is very cold and is shivering, naked and goosebumped.
The entire experience has been so very harrowing that her mind has reached a new level of mania and clarity all at once. Could it be that this trauma has in some way been cathartic?
Faced with eternity and the twisted concept of a recurring nightmare within her mind’s eye, she closes her eyes and projects her mind out across the vast expanse, breathing in deep to her belly, letting her shoulders fall back and relax. Surely there must be some meaning to find here, surely there must be some use for her, and some hope.
Struggling against her own mind, she searches for meaning again, hoping to find a renewed sense of worth.
It is a "new day" after all, isn't it? ;-)
Wisdom to overcome crushing depression and feelings of worthlessness - 7
Upon awakening, she is renewed and whole. Though, with all the chaos, she needed a moment to realize it. ;-)
Your sheet was already updated.
Everyone could see Gwyllen slowly come to the realization of her circumstances and start to shiver.
Sparkle Mat is the first to reach out by gently floating her cloak over and draping it across her shoulders. The rug then makes a gesture towards the end of the dais, where it was last sitting. There on the ground can be seen Arnack's enormous pack, as well as Gwyllen's.
The apprentice then comes over with a hot beverage. He's keen to keep an eye on the faces of Omega and Galu for any signs of disapproval. Placing the large mug in front of Gwyllen with a puffy smile, once satisfied there would be no censure. With their offerings of comfort completed, both return to their seats.
Omega who is now sitting straight-backed and attentive looks far healthier than when she last saw him.
He patiently watched the rug and the pupil tend to her before continuing, "As you may remember, I have spoken of the Queen's disapproval at your curiosity with the dead and the unfortunate consequences that come with it. While this is technically a probationary punishment for your dabblings, she wishes you to turn your curiosity towards a new goal, keeping with your favorite theme, but one that serves her desires better."
Tilting his head to his left, he asks, "Arnack won't you please retrieve that book of the dead from her pack?"
Arnack rummages around for a moment, before bringing the green velvety book to the table. Setting it gingerly in front of Omega and beaming for just a moment at Gwyllen.
As before, she sees a soft, green jewel-toned fabric with decorative metal edging at the corners. In the middle of the front cover is an oval mirror, surrounded by more fancy metalwork. He flips to the first few pages and turns the book around towards her.
"You may not have noticed or remember these pictures, but they are of the recently dead," he states.
Indeed, in front of her are pictures like she had seen of humans mostly in repose with their eyes closed. Many infants, but some older children and adults in layered fancy dress. The ones not lying down are pictured as they fell, covered in gore and mess, but nonetheless dead.
He continues, "These images were recently taken on a plane where magic doesn't overtly exist. They are called 'Pho-to-gra-ffs,' still images of real beings at the moment not of death, but memory retrieval. Sometimes, it can look like the same thing."
"Our Queen is many things, but foremost a collector of memories and they don't collect themselves. At least, not on planes where her influence isn't as strong. (The RotG caw a cautionary note.) She is ever omnipotent, obviously, but sometimes death can be a tricky path to take. Some, like yourself, hold their memories so close that they must be gathered, taken, stolen, tricked, and/or ripped from their minds."
Stating with a measure of finality, "It is our job to retrieve them, welcome aboard."
Seemingly tired of being restrained in another plane, Fiachra materializes on Gwyllen’s shoulder, giving her a light nip at on her ear lobe and hopping to the table before waddling up to the book and cocking its head sideways to get a better view of the strange pictures.
Gwyllen flinches as the nip takes a small piece of skin and rolls her eyes. “Look who decided to show up!”
Giving the Raven a disapproving look, she gestures to the book - ”I seem to recall a feeling of being drawn to the book when I held it before… what is on the last page?”she looks up to Omega inquisitively.
"That is for another conversation, and it's not my story to tell," says Omega with a slight uneasy tone. He then begins to pace around, gesturing all around him, saying, "And Welcome to Neth."
Using his hands to help tell the story, he begins, "Now, you may be asking yourself, what is Neth? The answer is quite simple - nobody knows for sure, not even Neth itself – although it could be lying, of course.
Some scholars have compared it to an entity called a Genius Loci, which is generally a magical power or spirit of some kind that dwells in a part of a landscape. I’m not sure how close to the truth that is, but there are similarities.
Genius Loci are often very intelligent and some are practically omnipotent within their borders, to the point where they can alter anything within their territory according to their whims. On the other hand, they are unable to move away from their bonded locations. Neth, however, is much, much bigger than any Loci I’ve ever seen.
Another thing, you should know concerns the definitions of the word “plane”. Throughout the years, different scholars have referred to Neth both as a plane and a demi-plane. I am not sure what first sparked this controversy, but according to current definitions, Neth is not a plane, but a demi-plane.
Planes, you see, are generally considered to be infinite in size, whereas demi-planes could theoretically be measured. I understand that the difference may not matter much to you, but some are quite picky where the correct terminology is concerned.
I would advise you to keep this in mind if you ever talk about Neth with it or anyone else. These kinds of debates, once they get started, tend to drag on for quite a while.
In any case, the name is not just for show. Neth is not only alive, but sentient, and capable of conversation. Moreover, it’s very curious. It’s biggest problem, however, is that it can’t go and explore the multiverse as we can.
It’s hard to pack up an entire demi-plane, after all. But, it’s still incredibly curious about everything, so every visitor is welcomed with open arms. Leaving can be the tricky part."
Not looking up to see if anyone is paying attention, he goes on, "Which is why our Queen has struck a deal with it. See, Neth appears to host an unknowable amount of gates that span just as many different planes of existence, some obvious and some not so much. Neth has given us passage to all of them in exchange for a view of the memories we collect.
Depending on his whim, will, mood, etc. they could be small, intimate ones to large ones full of nothing. You just never know, but the price for passage must be paid upon return. No exceptions and major consequences for everyone, not just us, if the treatise is broken. More on that in a bit."
He finally turns to the group with eyebrows raised, saying, "Any questions?"
Gwyllen surveys their surroundings as Omega describes Neth, trying to correlate what she is seeing to what he is describing.
Taking a sip of her hot drink, she sets the cup down and stands slowly. Walking to her equipment, she finds her belt pouch and ties it around her nude waste beneath her cloak.
She opens the flap and pulls the spyglass loose, pulling the telescopic lens out and examining the visible aspects of plane around her. She could still sense other complexities of the environment, and tries to bring it all into context as Omega speaks.
As Omega asks if there are any questions, Gwyllen turns."So what is our task then?"
Arnack, who has been bursting at the seams with excitement, speaks hurriedly, "The Queen will send you a message, you find a gate, try not to die, you find the target, extract the memory, try not to die, provide evidence, return, no dying again, show Neth, and repeat until your book is full. Some books are bigger or smaller than others, depending on your punishment."
Continuing, he slows down a bit to speak with a bit more reverence, "That book over there on the table is ours (pointing to Galu, Sparkle Mat, and himself). It's about halfway full, but with a certain 'extra.'"*wInking*"It's a special treat for our Queen. Maybe she'll lighten our load if we present it to her now."*Another wink*"She collects them or at least tries to, the...items are much sought after and have a mind of their own."*Pointing to your daggers on the ground*"There's apparently seven of them out there. You could find one, too, depending on where you're going."*one last long wink*
"Enough," says Master Galu as he shifts just the tiniest bit in his seat and continues, "It. ... "May." ... "Not. ... "Work."
Omega looks over at the three and just shakes his head. The RotG give a warning caw and Omega looks around expectantly, saying, "Gwyllen, may I introduce you to Neth." He then turns his back to the gate and waits.
Gwyllen, still trying to take in the grand scope of all of this, walks over to retrieve her dusty bandolier of potions and daggers. Setting it on the table, she pulls Ranna and Mosrael from their sheaths and looks them over.
As she carefully inspects them, trying to understand what Arnack was hinting at, she looks up to Omega. "Thank you for the introduction to all of this."
With a unsure expression, she glances around and speaks to no-one in particular - "Nice to meet you, Neth."
She shoots another look at Omega, half expecting him to be exasperated, but hoping that she was starting to catch on.
Fey senses stretched to their limit, she probes everything around her - "So how do we know which memories to collect? Will the Gate behind you take us there?"
Sliding the daggers back into their sheaths on the table, she pulls her cloak tighter around her and sips more of the hot drink. She stands and walks up next to Omega, taking a closer look at the Gate.
Towards the end of Omega's class lecture, the RotR flew down onto the table. Nodding along and mimicking the hooded one's movements. When he asked for questions, the raven hopped over to Gwyllen and softly coo'ed at her while she tried to come to terms with everything.
It drew even closer, bobbing its head and mumbling sounds like a gong when she came back with the daggers. However, the raven drew away and cawed in annoyance at the bandoleer, choosing then to spend it's time removing it from the table.
Omega paused at the moment of gratitude and blinked, stumbling out, "You are welcome, young one." He looked over at Galu for just a moment to confirm that this exchange was happening.
He stopped in his tracks when she said hello to Neth and held his body like he was waiting to be struck. Galu and Arnack both drew in a quick breaths at his name, while Sparkle Mat began clapping his gold tassels together in happy motions.
The RotR looked up too and then at the two elders. Cawing with laughter, it bounced over again to Gwyllen, as she asked her questions - eyes following her, as she goes to stand by Omega.
Gwyllen reaches out with her Feyness, and she could once again sense the heavy presence of the gate near her and the lines that connect it to many others. Pushing to her limits proves easier than expected and they expand at her will, picking up something new all around. The energy was pumping like a heart beat, which she began to feel on her skin and then in her own chest.
Looking around she could see nods of the energy building up and falling apart all across the landscape. However, when she looked at the table, there was one nod stronger than all the rest and it was currently bowing to her.
The RotR cawed, cleared it's throat, and spoke, "Greeeeeetings, Gwyllen Øyvund - Warlock and Beholden to the Raven Queen. You are far away from where you belong, you naughty human. Would you like to play?"
Gwyllen gives the Raven a surprised look and then stifles a giggle. "Oh good. I was wondering when you'd stop being so shy." she smiles and walks over to the table and rests her elbows on it, her head in her hands to look the Raven dead in the eyes.
Soaking in the familiar waves of energy and feeling something that made her feel more alive for the first time it what felt like... an eternity maybe... she feels a wash of curious terror and relief all at once. Her eyes twinkle obsidian and feathery ghosts ripple along her skin as a burst of warming energy washes over the area from her own core.
Fiachra hops from her shoulder as Gwyllen bends down and puffs out its chest a bit, raising up and a circling the other Raven a few times before sidling up to it and overcoming a strange urge to mount it. Shaking it off, Fiachra gives a laughing croak and bumps the Speaking Raven in a friendly manner with a partly open wing before hopping back and rocking forward in a bow, opening its wings and flaring its tail open. With that, it begins bobbing up and down excitedly, cocking a side eye to Gwyllen and giving out little crackles and hoots.
Eyeballing Fiachra's strange behavior, Gwyllen wrinkles her nose at her strange companion before standing erect once more. Letting her cloak fly open as she turns to look at the group, she gives them what may be the first non-scowl of the last millennia and her naked skin ripples into a an elegant armor of long, black wing tip feathers. She gives Arnack a mischievous wink before turning back to the RotR.
"Yes, let's play." Sweeping a feather to one side, she reaches into the belt pouch beneath and pulls her Orb from within, frost now cascading across its surface like a blizzard. She taps it gently onto the table before the Raven and releases it, roots and crystals of frost forming across it, turning it into a sparkling little mountain of deep blue ice.
"I am at your service." she places a hand across her chest and gives a slight bow.
At the last of her words, everything around her begins to slow down. Omega's face distorts, Arnack's, too. They both extend their arms towards her and begin what she thinks would be a shout of, "NOOOoooo." The RotL raises up his wings and opens his beak to the sky with what she could only surmise to be a scream. At the same time, she can hear a screech of denial In the back of her mind, where once a manic laughter once lived.
Galu is the only one to look at her with any semblance of composure. His cold dark stare cuts directly into her, as he repeatedly says at his regular speed, "Trust. Nothing. ... Trust. Nothing. ...Trust. Nothing."
When her gaze turns back to the RotR, everything around her begins to bleed color like a wet painting in the rain. Once everything she sees is devoid of any pattern or meaning, she hears a voice say, "Excellent. Let's begin with one of your Queen's favorites."
Suddenly, the ground goes out from underneath Gwyllen and she is falling, as is Fiachra. Her things are also tumbling in the air around her.
But just before she is able to make any movement to correct herself, the ground comes up from out of nowhere. Bringing them both to a sudden and jarring stop, knocking the air from her lungs.
Gwyllen feels the rug wrap its hot grip around her, fire of her own making scorching her skin and hair, the fowl stink of the fabric and her own flesh filling her nostrils with noxious fumes. Her eyes and lungs scream for moisture and air and she feels the life begin to leave her body.
Closing her eyes and holding her mouth closed for split second, her lets out a final rasping breath, croaking what may be her last words weakly and managing a sad smile.
"Eskaintzen didazun guztia sufrimendua bada" *wheeze*
"erregutzen dut" *wheeze*
"sufrimenduaren dohaina emateko".
She begins flicking her nails against the fabric until one of the them catches in the weave and she presses with all her might, feeling the knuckle dislocate as the keratin begins to separate from the skin. Feeling the slightest patch of her fingertip hit the fabric, she begins shrieking, icy flames erupting from every pore.
Hellish Rebuke – All it says is I need to point my finger after being damaged. 😉
This is a bonus reaction to your damage.
4
As the life drains from her body, she whispers - ""Entzun al duzu?"
A thunderous wave booms out of her, muffled only by the rug surrounding her.
Thunderclap - Make a constitution throw DC 13 or take 1d6 Thunder damage.
1
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
Pressure is building all around Gwyllen. What little air she has left is chocked with soot and smoke, blocking her ability to breath. The rug reacts to the warlock's magic, but doubling down on its twisting and churning the life out of her. There is only rage, pain, and darkness in her last few moments.
Memories well up on the edge of everything, and she can see from one end of her existence to the other. Some images fly by quicker than others, some linger. The happiest and the most foul are relived with their full emotional weight and then some. Eventually, they send her reeling into Shadow and the arms of her Queen.
Somewhere in the distance, a high-pitched voice screams in negative rebuke and a flash of color momentarily blocks the image of a pale, sunken face and sad grey eyes.
Gwyllen hears a whisper of gratitude, feels a kiss on her forehead, and then nothing...but feminine maniacal laughter.
-------------------
The sound finally fades and in the darkness, a voice speaks. It's slow, pert, and dripping with judgment...
*sigh* "How many times do I have to tell you to get up off the ground?"
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Gwyllen flickers her eyelids a few times, taking a deep breath and feeling her lungs moving freely. She lets out a deep sigh and, with another deep breath, stands. Her surroundings are familiar, like a distant memory, and she walks toward the voice with purpose, allowing her equilibrium to settle.
As she walks, she lets her shoulders roll back and whispers a soft prayer. “Zure zerbitzaria naiz, ama.”
A downy coat of feathers blossoms across her bare form as she approaches the dais.
Setting her hand on the chair across from the cloaked form, she focused the energy flowing through her and warms the seat, letting it spread across the ground and up into the other seat as well. Why not make everyone a little bit more comfortable? she thinks to herself.
Breathing in the clean air, yet again, and trying to ignore the mephitic scent on the breeze, she gracefully takes her seat and leans against the table, folding her hands.
“I’m honestly not sure how many times its been at this point. Please don’t let me keep you.” she smiles with a look of congeniality.
Still greatly enjoying the ambrosial feeling of the air on her lungs, she continues to take meditative breaths as she closes her eyes, waiting for a response.
She lets her senses expand around her, letting her Fey touched mind run its fingers along the lay lines of this place, searching for hidden knowledge and energy.
Good ol' Prestidigitation and Fey Senses mix that I love to exploit.
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
"Too." ... "Many." ... "Times," says Master Galu from off to your right.
If she opens her eyes, she will see, Galu, Arnack, and the rug are all sitting to Omega's left towards the end of the dias, giving her varying degrees of waves. Arnack looks to be a bit worse for wear and he's not loaded with his pack at the moment.
"True," states Omega, continuing, "We've basically given up at this point, but she just keeps sending you back. Do you know how many times you killed Arnack, Sparkle Mat, and I?"
He stands up a bit, leans into her face, and holds his hand up with fingers splayed out, whispering, "More than 5...5 times, more than. Each." He sits back down with a bewildered face, shaking his head. (His breath was not nice.)
Exasperated he adds, "Did you at least remember your journey to the end this time?" She can see each of them leaning forward with anticipation.
Memory Check = Roll an Intelligence Check and a Wisdom Check, then average them, pls.
As she closes her eyes, the pulse of the gate in front of her almost overwhelms her senses. Once a few moments have passed, her mind expanses and can trace the varying directions the fey lines flow. Some run to the gate, some away, and a few aren't land-based and reach out for the stars above. They also vary in strength and something else, something more primal. She understands that if she concentrates enough, she could follow them and begin learning to read them like a map.
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Giving Omega a raised eyebrow, Gwyllen turns towards the Tortles and… Sparkle Mat the Rug.
With a bit of disdain in her voice, she speaks. “I don’t pretend to understand the will of the Queen, but if I’ve killed you, which seems difficult to believe given my complete failure to perform on a regular basis, then she has brought you back as well. Perhaps the lot of you are as worthless as stepping stones in my journey.” She gives a tinny laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement.
Sighing and rolling her eyes, she gives Mat a once over. “Let’s not forget who killed who here, Sparkles. I’m sure Fiachra can attest to your unprovoked attacks, but no need to wake her from her slumber for something so petty as intraplanar murder.”
Raising her head to the strange sky, she leans back and breathes deeply. “Let us see what memories the journey has left me.”
Intelligence - 6
Wisdom - 16
Average - 11
I swear I’m going to master this roller at some point, but every time I think to make a more complex calculation, I realize I don’t care that much. :-P
As her mind pulls in what it can find, she opens her eyes and sets her gaze back on Omega's dark eyes.
"Perhaps I recall more than you all think... here's what I'll share." she realizes the attempt at deception is unnecessary, but feels inclined to play with their heads as much as she feels this whole situation is playing with hers. Might as well make things more fun if she's going to be here for the foreseeable eons.
Deception - 13
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
Omega and Galu are entirely non-plussed about your antics, almost expectant that the conversation would go this way. Arnack and Sparkle Mat, however, are fully engrossed in what you have to say next. Omega rolls his hands at the wrist in the air, motioning for you to get on with it. Galu shifts in his seat and brings his palms together in a prayer-like manner. The two have a brief, yet punctuated under the breath conversation in a language she does not understand. Though, Gwyllen does get the impression that Omega is negating some form of request from Galu.
Meanwhile, Arnack, who has a black eye and swollen lip, smiles the best he can at you with dollop of hope and admiration. Sparkle M looks wounded by her words, but is slowly nodding and snuggling up to Arnack.
Her senses are a bit overwhelmed after reaching out to the fey lines, and the experience is clouded by her encounter with her queen. But, she remembers the basics of her journey...smoke, lack of air, blackness, then the log ride of memories with a deep plunge at every truly strong remembrance. Glimpses here and there of battles, encounters with powerful beings, childhood, etc. Gwyllen couldn't quite tell if she experienced them in order, but knows it was a big long flashback of her life.
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Gwyllen furrows her brow, deep in thought, for a moment before raising her eyes up to the group. She smiles sadly at Arnack’s cherubic, bruised face and glances across the delicately detailed Mat before returning her steady gaze to Omega and Garu.
“I see nothing but pain and death, all the way back to my childhood. What more is there to know?” she shrugs in despair. “It seems you expect something more. Perhaps in 10 more deaths you will be more forthcoming, or in 10 of mine I will retain more memory.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her index finger and thumb around the bridge of her nose as anxiety, depression and annoyance throb in her skull.
“I’ll tell you what my memory holds, from end to beginning: I remember the rasping breaths of suffocation, the excruciating ice of power in my veins and the callous caress of feathers rasping along my trembling skin and into the deepest corners of my being. I remember being pulled from plane to plane with nothing but power to fill the void of nothingness that is my purpose. “I remember constantly being surrounded by loathsome company who rarely hold any sort of value in my meaningless quests of infiltration and destruction.
She sighs heavily, beginning to look pale and sickly as the energy around her boils with confusion and hatred – “I remember the smell of orcish blood in my mouth and the screams of their children as I eviscerated them, smashing their organs beneath my boots. I remember the chances for innocence and joy crushed by malicious tricks and a years of servitude. I remember the spray of my mother’s blood in my eyes as her throat was cut in my face as she was ****ed mercilessly.”
She looks at Omega pleadingly - “I have lost all purpose but to channel the power of the Raven; what more is there?! What do you expect? Here you are, with your impatience and boredom, waiting, always waiting. What is your purpose? Are you not but a sickly torture master?”
She turns to Galu “Am I a plaything of colorful death experiences to pepper your treatise to the Queen? It seems as though you’re trapped in the Queen’s maze just as I am.”
Looking to Arnack, she lowers her voice and casts her eyes down in despair. "I’m sorry if I bruised you… I don’t even remember. It seems that I am but a pillar of confused violence.”
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
Omega's face falls and his eyes grow wide, stating, "Yes, young one, I am and we are all those things." He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, turning his head to Galu, who is in a state of incredulous wonder. Arnack and Sparkle M are badly keeping their excitement at bay and quietly applauding you, behind Galu's back.
"Exactly," he says. "Finally," he states with relief.
"You have fought to relive those memories so fiercely that not even the Queen could pry them from you," he explained and added, "That is not a small feat. Your memories must be quite exquisite to her if she's allowing us to continue."
Arnack seizes the moment while Galu is still flabbergasted at the turning of the tide, saying quickly, "No, Miss. You do not need to apologize. My bruises are... self-inflicted. I'm so happy for you." He side-eyes Galu after finishing, checking for any reaction. Sparkle M nods enthusiastically along with him, but also double-checks Galu for a response.
Hearing Arnack's voice finally brings Galu back to himself, and he bats a lazy hand at the other two to stop. "Everything." ... "We." ... "Do. ... "Is." ... "For." ... "The." ... "Queen," he says breathlessly, using his finger to emphasize the group to include her. He adds, "Never." ... "Forget." ... "The." ... "Raven." ... "Commands." ... "Us." ... "All."
At his final word, the Ravens on the Gate caw in triumph. Gwyllen can faintly hear that maniacal laughter echoing in their calls.
Omega turns his head to listen to the birds and appears to hear something, as well. He rubs his hand over his pale bald head, pushing his hood back a bit, and says with a lighter touch, "Then let us begin."
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
With misty eyes, Gwyllen looks up into the mind-boggling dome of infinite space above them and blinks to stay her tears. She realizes that she is very cold and is shivering, naked and goosebumped.
The entire experience has been so very harrowing that her mind has reached a new level of mania and clarity all at once. Could it be that this trauma has in some way been cathartic?
Faced with eternity and the twisted concept of a recurring nightmare within her mind’s eye, she closes her eyes and projects her mind out across the vast expanse, breathing in deep to her belly, letting her shoulders fall back and relax. Surely there must be some meaning to find here, surely there must be some use for her, and some hope.
Struggling against her own mind, she searches for meaning again, hoping to find a renewed sense of worth.
It is a "new day" after all, isn't it? ;-)
Wisdom to overcome crushing depression and feelings of worthlessness - 7
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
This is indeed a brand new day.
Upon awakening, she is renewed and whole. Though, with all the chaos, she needed a moment to realize it. ;-)
Your sheet was already updated.
Everyone could see Gwyllen slowly come to the realization of her circumstances and start to shiver.
Sparkle Mat is the first to reach out by gently floating her cloak over and draping it across her shoulders. The rug then makes a gesture towards the end of the dais, where it was last sitting. There on the ground can be seen Arnack's enormous pack, as well as Gwyllen's.
The apprentice then comes over with a hot beverage. He's keen to keep an eye on the faces of Omega and Galu for any signs of disapproval. Placing the large mug in front of Gwyllen with a puffy smile, once satisfied there would be no censure. With their offerings of comfort completed, both return to their seats.
Omega who is now sitting straight-backed and attentive looks far healthier than when she last saw him.
He patiently watched the rug and the pupil tend to her before continuing, "As you may remember, I have spoken of the Queen's disapproval at your curiosity with the dead and the unfortunate consequences that come with it. While this is technically a probationary punishment for your dabblings, she wishes you to turn your curiosity towards a new goal, keeping with your favorite theme, but one that serves her desires better."
Tilting his head to his left, he asks, "Arnack won't you please retrieve that book of the dead from her pack?"
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Gwyllen pulls her feet up underneath her on the chair, pulling the cloak tight around her legs and shoulders and bringing the hood up above her head.
Listening to Omega, she raises her eyebrows at the phrase "your favorite theme" trying to remember the last time she had a favorite anything.
Looking to the smaller Tortle, she waits apprehensively.
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
Arnack rummages around for a moment, before bringing the green velvety book to the table. Setting it gingerly in front of Omega and beaming for just a moment at Gwyllen.
As before, she sees a soft, green jewel-toned fabric with decorative metal edging at the corners. In the middle of the front cover is an oval mirror, surrounded by more fancy metalwork. He flips to the first few pages and turns the book around towards her.
"You may not have noticed or remember these pictures, but they are of the recently dead," he states.
Indeed, in front of her are pictures like she had seen of humans mostly in repose with their eyes closed. Many infants, but some older children and adults in layered fancy dress. The ones not lying down are pictured as they fell, covered in gore and mess, but nonetheless dead.
He continues, "These images were recently taken on a plane where magic doesn't overtly exist. They are called 'Pho-to-gra-ffs,' still images of real beings at the moment not of death, but memory retrieval. Sometimes, it can look like the same thing."
"Our Queen is many things, but foremost a collector of memories and they don't collect themselves. At least, not on planes where her influence isn't as strong. (The RotG caw a cautionary note.) She is ever omnipotent, obviously, but sometimes death can be a tricky path to take. Some, like yourself, hold their memories so close that they must be gathered, taken, stolen, tricked, and/or ripped from their minds."
Stating with a measure of finality, "It is our job to retrieve them, welcome aboard."
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Seemingly tired of being restrained in another plane, Fiachra materializes on Gwyllen’s shoulder, giving her a light nip at on her ear lobe and hopping to the table before waddling up to the book and cocking its head sideways to get a better view of the strange pictures.
Gwyllen flinches as the nip takes a small piece of skin and rolls her eyes. “Look who decided to show up!”
Giving the Raven a disapproving look, she gestures to the book - ”I seem to recall a feeling of being drawn to the book when I held it before… what is on the last page?” she looks up to Omega inquisitively.
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
UPDATED
"That is for another conversation, and it's not my story to tell," says Omega with a slight uneasy tone. He then begins to pace around, gesturing all around him, saying, "And Welcome to Neth."
Using his hands to help tell the story, he begins, "Now, you may be asking yourself, what is Neth? The answer is quite simple - nobody knows for sure, not even Neth itself – although it could be lying, of course.
Some scholars have compared it to an entity called a Genius Loci, which is generally a magical power or spirit of some kind that dwells in a part of a landscape. I’m not sure how close to the truth that is, but there are similarities.
Genius Loci are often very intelligent and some are practically omnipotent within their borders, to the point where they can alter anything within their territory according to their whims. On the other hand, they are unable to move away from their bonded locations. Neth, however, is much, much bigger than any Loci I’ve ever seen.
Another thing, you should know concerns the definitions of the word “plane”. Throughout the years, different scholars have referred to Neth both as a plane and a demi-plane. I am not sure what first sparked this controversy, but according to current definitions, Neth is not a plane, but a demi-plane.
Planes, you see, are generally considered to be infinite in size, whereas demi-planes could theoretically be measured. I understand that the difference may not matter much to you, but some are quite picky where the correct terminology is concerned.
I would advise you to keep this in mind if you ever talk about Neth with it or anyone else. These kinds of debates, once they get started, tend to drag on for quite a while.
In any case, the name is not just for show. Neth is not only alive, but sentient, and capable of conversation. Moreover, it’s very curious. It’s biggest problem, however, is that it can’t go and explore the multiverse as we can.
It’s hard to pack up an entire demi-plane, after all. But, it’s still incredibly curious about everything, so every visitor is welcomed with open arms. Leaving can be the tricky part."
Not looking up to see if anyone is paying attention, he goes on, "Which is why our Queen has struck a deal with it. See, Neth appears to host an unknowable amount of gates that span just as many different planes of existence, some obvious and some not so much. Neth has given us passage to all of them in exchange for a view of the memories we collect.
Depending on his whim, will, mood, etc. they could be small, intimate ones to large ones full of nothing. You just never know, but the price for passage must be paid upon return. No exceptions and major consequences for everyone, not just us, if the treatise is broken. More on that in a bit."
He finally turns to the group with eyebrows raised, saying, "Any questions?"
UPDATED
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Gwyllen surveys their surroundings as Omega describes Neth, trying to correlate what she is seeing to what he is describing.
Taking a sip of her hot drink, she sets the cup down and stands slowly. Walking to her equipment, she finds her belt pouch and ties it around her nude waste beneath her cloak.
She opens the flap and pulls the spyglass loose, pulling the telescopic lens out and examining the visible aspects of plane around her. She could still sense other complexities of the environment, and tries to bring it all into context as Omega speaks.
As Omega asks if there are any questions, Gwyllen turns. "So what is our task then?"
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
Arnack, who has been bursting at the seams with excitement, speaks hurriedly, "The Queen will send you a message, you find a gate, try not to die, you find the target, extract the memory, try not to die, provide evidence, return, no dying again, show Neth, and repeat until your book is full. Some books are bigger or smaller than others, depending on your punishment."
Continuing, he slows down a bit to speak with a bit more reverence, "That book over there on the table is ours (pointing to Galu, Sparkle Mat, and himself). It's about halfway full, but with a certain 'extra.'" *wInking* "It's a special treat for our Queen. Maybe she'll lighten our load if we present it to her now." *Another wink* "She collects them or at least tries to, the...items are much sought after and have a mind of their own." *Pointing to your daggers on the ground* "There's apparently seven of them out there. You could find one, too, depending on where you're going." *one last long wink*
"Enough," says Master Galu as he shifts just the tiniest bit in his seat and continues, "It. ... "May." ... "Not. ... "Work."
Omega looks over at the three and just shakes his head. The RotG give a warning caw and Omega looks around expectantly, saying, "Gwyllen, may I introduce you to Neth." He then turns his back to the gate and waits.
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Gwyllen, still trying to take in the grand scope of all of this, walks over to retrieve her dusty bandolier of potions and daggers. Setting it on the table, she pulls Ranna and Mosrael from their sheaths and looks them over.
As she carefully inspects them, trying to understand what Arnack was hinting at, she looks up to Omega. "Thank you for the introduction to all of this."
With a unsure expression, she glances around and speaks to no-one in particular - "Nice to meet you, Neth."
She shoots another look at Omega, half expecting him to be exasperated, but hoping that she was starting to catch on.
Fey senses stretched to their limit, she probes everything around her - "So how do we know which memories to collect? Will the Gate behind you take us there?"
Sliding the daggers back into their sheaths on the table, she pulls her cloak tighter around her and sips more of the hot drink. She stands and walks up next to Omega, taking a closer look at the Gate.
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
Towards the end of Omega's class lecture, the RotR flew down onto the table. Nodding along and mimicking the hooded one's movements. When he asked for questions, the raven hopped over to Gwyllen and softly coo'ed at her while she tried to come to terms with everything.
It drew even closer, bobbing its head and mumbling sounds like a gong when she came back with the daggers. However, the raven drew away and cawed in annoyance at the bandoleer, choosing then to spend it's time removing it from the table.
Omega paused at the moment of gratitude and blinked, stumbling out, "You are welcome, young one." He looked over at Galu for just a moment to confirm that this exchange was happening.
He stopped in his tracks when she said hello to Neth and held his body like he was waiting to be struck. Galu and Arnack both drew in a quick breaths at his name, while Sparkle Mat began clapping his gold tassels together in happy motions.
The RotR looked up too and then at the two elders. Cawing with laughter, it bounced over again to Gwyllen, as she asked her questions - eyes following her, as she goes to stand by Omega.
Gwyllen reaches out with her Feyness, and she could once again sense the heavy presence of the gate near her and the lines that connect it to many others. Pushing to her limits proves easier than expected and they expand at her will, picking up something new all around. The energy was pumping like a heart beat, which she began to feel on her skin and then in her own chest.
Looking around she could see nods of the energy building up and falling apart all across the landscape. However, when she looked at the table, there was one nod stronger than all the rest and it was currently bowing to her.
The RotR cawed, cleared it's throat, and spoke, "Greeeeeetings, Gwyllen Øyvund - Warlock and Beholden to the Raven Queen. You are far away from where you belong, you naughty human. Would you like to play?"
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods
Gwyllen gives the Raven a surprised look and then stifles a giggle. "Oh good. I was wondering when you'd stop being so shy." she smiles and walks over to the table and rests her elbows on it, her head in her hands to look the Raven dead in the eyes.
Soaking in the familiar waves of energy and feeling something that made her feel more alive for the first time it what felt like... an eternity maybe... she feels a wash of curious terror and relief all at once. Her eyes twinkle obsidian and feathery ghosts ripple along her skin as a burst of warming energy washes over the area from her own core.
Fiachra hops from her shoulder as Gwyllen bends down and puffs out its chest a bit, raising up and a circling the other Raven a few times before sidling up to it and overcoming a strange urge to mount it. Shaking it off, Fiachra gives a laughing croak and bumps the Speaking Raven in a friendly manner with a partly open wing before hopping back and rocking forward in a bow, opening its wings and flaring its tail open. With that, it begins bobbing up and down excitedly, cocking a side eye to Gwyllen and giving out little crackles and hoots.
Eyeballing Fiachra's strange behavior, Gwyllen wrinkles her nose at her strange companion before standing erect once more. Letting her cloak fly open as she turns to look at the group, she gives them what may be the first non-scowl of the last millennia and her naked skin ripples into a an elegant armor of long, black wing tip feathers. She gives Arnack a mischievous wink before turning back to the RotR.
"Yes, let's play." Sweeping a feather to one side, she reaches into the belt pouch beneath and pulls her Orb from within, frost now cascading across its surface like a blizzard. She taps it gently onto the table before the Raven and releases it, roots and crystals of frost forming across it, turning it into a sparkling little mountain of deep blue ice.
"I am at your service." she places a hand across her chest and gives a slight bow.
Gwyllen Øyvund - Level 4 / Human Variant / Warlock, Fey Touched Archanist of the Raven Queen - Death Inspectors
Torment Malichar - Level 8 / Tiefling / Druid of the Underdark, Cleric of Mielikki - Knights of the Hanging Chicken (Team 3)
Master Shovel of the Sandbox - Bane of Kerakys
At the last of her words, everything around her begins to slow down. Omega's face distorts, Arnack's, too. They both extend their arms towards her and begin what she thinks would be a shout of, "NOOOoooo." The RotL raises up his wings and opens his beak to the sky with what she could only surmise to be a scream. At the same time, she can hear a screech of denial In the back of her mind, where once a manic laughter once lived.
Galu is the only one to look at her with any semblance of composure. His cold dark stare cuts directly into her, as he repeatedly says at his regular speed, "Trust. Nothing. ... Trust. Nothing. ...Trust. Nothing."
When her gaze turns back to the RotR, everything around her begins to bleed color like a wet painting in the rain. Once everything she sees is devoid of any pattern or meaning, she hears a voice say, "Excellent. Let's begin with one of your Queen's favorites."
Suddenly, the ground goes out from underneath Gwyllen and she is falling, as is Fiachra. Her things are also tumbling in the air around her.
But just before she is able to make any movement to correct herself, the ground comes up from out of nowhere. Bringing them both to a sudden and jarring stop, knocking the air from her lungs.
Tamlynn [Pic] | Half-Elf | Ranger, Horizon Walker - Lvl 6 | Talaveroth (sub-campaign 3)
Hadar Ilkin [Pic] | Half-Orc | Ranger, Gloom Stalker - Lvl 4 | Bane of Kerakys
Mistress of Game | Death Inspectors
Mistress of Game | Into the Werewoods