Catching a bit of Gwyllen's words, Noct raises an eye brow, then also notes her revealing figure chuckles, "As much as I am enjoying the view, does the lady need another layer? I know most aren't blessed with my tolerance for the weather." He then holds out his jacket, with a playful smile, "Don't worry~ You won't be cursed for touching it~"
Gwyllen raises her eyebrows in mock surprise before raising her chin with pride and pulling her cloak confidently across her body.
"Thanks, but I'll be quite warm without it; I breath more frost than air somed days. I get the feeling you might sweat out a lot of fluids during the night... I'd hate to see you lose your absorbent layer, friend. You may know your way around a rug, but I wouldn't recommend offending Sparky there."
Feeling more alive than she has for days, Gwyllen steps away from Omega, nodding her thanks to Kanrath and walks towards the pile of bones. Pulling a strange, dark book from within her cloak, she cracks it openly reverently and stands among the dead. Crouching down she begins to speak under her breath, too quietly to hear.
Gwyllen begins experimenting with the mysterious book.
Her mind and body are focused on the tingling Fey energies she is forever connected to and she tests the limits of her expanded abilities, seeking some clue that may help her collect these precious mementos for the Queen.
(Well, I was full of lies, but the Queen has not abandoned you! Thank you to whomever is left for your patience with me. Life gets tricky sometimes.)
Noctis keeps the staring contest going for a solid five-seconds before he (cheats) takes his finger and scratches under the carpet/mat's 'chin', "Hehe, aren't you a interesting one~" He then casts his own spell on the mat, cleaning it up.
Catching a bit of Gwyllen's words, Noct raises an eye brow, then also notes her revealing figure chuckles, "As much as I am enjoying the view, does the lady need another layer? I know most aren't blessed with my tolerance for the weather." He then holds out his jacket, with a playful smile, "Don't worry~ You won't be cursed for touching it~"
---------------------------
Arcana Roll = Gwyllen casts some kind of low-level protective spell on Noctis. It is not one he is familiar with casting, but may have experienced it in the past.
A shimmer of light falls softly around Noctis. The sheen creates a magical barrier between him and everything else. Along with it, comes a tiny sense of reassurance, which instantly fades the moment Noctis touches the rug. Sparkle Mat's non-existent head rears back on its non-existent neck as if to say, "No, he did NOT just touch me." In an instant, the rug leaps towards Noctis, then freezes in mid-air, as it's hit with a spell. Mat looks at Noctis, who is very, very close and mostly surrounded, then at itself. Repeats this a couple of times, while beating itself with its tassels. Then everything clicks and Sparkle Mat rises up into the air with joy. Flying all around while Noctis flirts with Gwyllen, then landing next to Noctis with a tassel out, ready for a handshake. The entire time, SM shoots Omega looks with a Tah-Dah expression on its non-existent face.
Omega buries his head in his hands to avoid having to respond to Sparkle, but finally gives in with patronizing claps. "Well done, Noctis, way to avoid the Rug of Death. Few, especially those with us now, cannot say the same. Oh, and yes, Sparkle he is amazing and you look even better clean than you normally do." This last bit obviously pained Omega to say, but SM takes absolutely no notice and swoons a bit. Batting his non-existent eyelashes at Omega and throwing him little tassel waves.
Kanrath walks over to Gwyllen, his silvery eyes looking down at the injured figure in front of her. "My abilities eases the pain of others, be it to live, or not die suffering." He tells her. "Be it that you live today, than that is your fate."He kneels down beside her, his human hands gesturing as he utters a small prayer, something indecipherable to those not trained in the ways he was taught during his upbringing. A purple tint covers his hands as he lightly presses them to her in an attempt to staunch the wounds.
(OOC: Sorry I was sure I had posted several days ago. I'm definitely still here.)
Eira looks at her hands, at the others and back at her hands. Could she really be dead? "Am I dead Dumeron?" Nothing. No answer as usual. After what felt like a week of dead silence she musters up the courage to speak to the strange person-thing who appeared out of nowhere. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Might as well be with monsters like that Lonely-thing wandering around." She shudders. The thought of the sad, lonely abomination caused her empathy to peak, feeling empathy for something or someone that tries to kill you is dangerous and she knew it.
-----------------------
For Eira:
A voice draws a slow, seductive breath in the back of her mind, "But, the danger tastes so sweet, does it not? I think you can hear me better now that you are closer to me. Perhaps we can understand each other better, too. You've been so useful, my beauty."
(Sorry got distracted irl and forgot to post still here tho)
Marenos just stands back to let the healing types do their thing seeing and keeps watching the portal. "So Omega what do you want from us, I can figure we are wanted for something but I would rather you tell us so we can get on with it. Before we get any other horrible creatures attached to horses." He says looking around the room
Omega painfully turns towards Marenos, "Yes, it's better to know. The short version: A war is coming and the Queen asks for your help in avoiding it. You are currently located on the demi-plane called Neth. It's a living plane...for the love of everything you hold dear, DO NOT engage with it. It likes to play with those that travel here. There is no telling for how long, as time and a few other things don't work the same as they do on the material plane." He wheezes a bit from having talked so quickly, "Neth is a gateway to many other realms, planes, times, and more. Our dearest Queen has made a deal with it (which it has promised to keep) to allow safe passage through its gates and portals. The one behind us is to the Shadow Realm. This is not the way. For any reason. Especially, if you ever want to go home." Omega leans forward to cough and blood hits the ground, "Great."
The Raven on the Right of the gate cackles and mimics Omega's voice, "Promises, promises." Omega looks up at it, then at Gwyllen, shaking his head. "At least one of you is able to read the ley lines that connect the gates. Has anyone here had any dealings, training, or study of planar travel? Any innate powers calling out from the beyond, maybe?"
Gwyllen raises her eyebrows in mock surprise before raising her chin with pride and pulling her cloak confidently across her body.
"Thanks, but I'll be quite warm without it; I breath more frost than air somed days. I get the feeling you might sweat out a lot of fluids during the night... I'd hate to see you lose your absorbent layer, friend. You may know your way around a rug, but I wouldn't recommend offending Sparky there."
Feeling more alive than she has for days, Gwyllen steps away from Omega, nodding her thanks to Kanrath and walks towards the pile of bones. Pulling a strange, dark book from within her cloak, she cracks it openly reverently and stands among the dead. Crouching down she begins to speak under her breath, too quietly to hear.
Gwyllen begins experimenting with the mysterious book.
Her mind and body are focused on the tingling Fey energies she is forever connected to and she tests the limits of her expanded abilities, seeking some clue that may help her collect these precious mementos for the Queen.
Daily INT roll - 6
Sorry charlie, gate bonus is no more.
She can vaguely hear Omega talking in the background, as she stands there pushing her fey light out. However, as she is feeling better the energy is not a potent as last time. She can feel a connection with the book start to form and there is a moment where the lines become visible. The book turns cold to the touch, and the longer she stands there, then colder it becomes. Suddenly, she hears with perfect distinction, "promises, promises" from the Raven on the Right. Snapping her focus back to Omega's conversation and her light goes dim.
When she looks at the jewel on the front of the book, the liquid has frozen in the jewel and is giving off icy mist.
Noctis smirks at the Mat and takes a tassel, giving it a firm shake as he happily states, "Pleasure to meet you my rugged friend~ I get the feeling we'll get along just fine~"
With the carpet free, and a companion now relieved of wounds, Kanrath turns his attention back to Omega. Seeing the figure coughing up blood, he is somewhat concerned about this. Why does one who appears to be undead ail like one of life?
Kanrath takes a few steps towards Omega. "So the gods have called upon mortals for aid. I am not a scholar of the planes, merely a sentinel of my people. My devotion is to that of my pantheon and to ensure that even in the darkness we are safe. With that, I can offer my service." The centaur brings one of his hands to his chest, lightly touching the emblem of the raven upon it.
Looking over her shoulder at the distraction, Gwyllen sighs and turns back to the icy book cover before taking a deep breath and nodding. What's the worst that could happen, death?
She closes her eyes and stands, holding her open palm downward above the bones, and whispers.
"Utzi iezadazu zure liburua betetzen, ama. I am but a vessel for your will, Great Raven. Show me what secrets I must take from the fallen."
Fluffy snow begins to drip from her palm and a blue ghost of her hand falls with it, coming to rest on the bones. The magickal projection reverently runs across the bones before resting on a skull. It caresses the dome of smooth bone before lifting squeezing the cranium lightly and lifting it up to float in front of the book.
Gwyllen raises her chin and lets her eyes roll back in their sockets as she continues to speak, hoping to communicate with the dead in some way.
"Hitz egin niri, oh erorita. Tell us your story so you will be remembered."
Fiachra alights on Gwyllen's shoulder once again, its eyes frosty over and beak chattering slightly.
Passive Perception rises to 17 with Fiachra's presence. Mage Hand. No concentration required. https://www.dndbeyond.com/spells/mage-hand Comprehend Languages as a ritual in case communication is needed.
A familiar sensation, one of shifting heat and cold, crawls up and down Eiras spine. "I might just seek you out and find you if we stay on this plane long, Dumeron, but your lady seemingly has plans for me.. but you probably already knew that.." Eira seemingly blushes out of nowhere and clears her throat.
The whole ordeal really is quite upsetting, especially to a someone as unlearned as Eira. She thinks of what to say. The young blonde goes through ten or twenty different ways to say what she is about to say in her head before blurting out a single. "Ehmm.." She chokes on her words as if she forgot how to speak. "I have no formal knowledge of planar travel, but my family does and I might have overheard my father talking about it once or twice. He is an expert on angels you see... I'm not really that fond of books myself, but I get by.." Damnit. A well calculated sentence lost to rambling again. Oh right, the planes! Eira takes a brief moment to breath and call upon her angels to help her remember.
Arcana (for if Eira has ever overheard her father talking about his research or something of the like): 19 Casting: Guidance adding the result to the Arcana check: 2
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Blixanix Glitterpain, Goblin Bard - In campaign: Ravnica, City of Guilds
The Soggiest DM - In campaign: Boats, Rocks & Ruffians Eira Whitefeather, Human Sorcerer/Warlock - In campaign: Death Inspectors Expanded
Roland "THUNDER HIPPO" Wolfscribe, Human Bloodhunter - In campaign: Core City: A Play-by-post Adventure
Yes, she has definitely heard her father talk about the grandeur and trappings of the celestial planes. She has heard him wax poetic at the beautiful dangers and hideousness of the abyssal planes. There were mentions on how to travel to these planes from the material world through death, prayer, and other magical means that are lost to you. Ley lines were never mentioned or travel of the planes by other means. He had a map of sorts in his office on a wall. It was an artist's interpretation of the different planes. Overrun with gilded fancies, monsters, and elements. The whole thing was hard to decipher. Neth was never talked about, at least in your presence.
As she thinks about this, a familiar voice speaks, "Ooo, ask me, ask me! You did fine. You are far too hard on yourself, my pet. Relax, no one even noticed."
Omega listens and nods at Eira words, "You said he was an expert on angels? Well, that could be of use. Yes., maybe. We'll have to see where she sends you." He looks around impatiently and gives death stares at the back of Gwyllen, "ANYONE ELSE?" He groans at the exertion and sighs heavily.
He then looks up at the centaur, "You are a generous and compassionate soul. I can see how my current form puzzles you. Let's just say if I go back to the Queen for another body, she won't be pleased. Thus, I'm stuck here for now. It may also be that my magic has been...limited, and if I perform any there is a physical cost. So, in short, I am in need of your services...please." He bows his head at Kanrath.
For Kanrath:
Internal bleeding, bruising all over his body, possible lack of oxygen to the point of unconsciousness recently, possible organ failure, depression, anxiety, some kind of overall hair loss, anemic, very old, very tired, could use a massage, and in more pain, than he is letting on.
You believe that he may be one of the Queen's original servants, known as a shadar-kai. They are bound to the Queen and do her bidding across the planes.
The Raven on the Right flies over to the mini-blizzard happening close by. It pecks at the bones, looks up at the frosty warlock, and pecks at the bones some more. "Cold!," it caws out, "Cold!" The creature cackles a bit more, then jumps up and down, "Cold! Cold! Cold!"
Eira beams with pride at the mention of her father but her eyes get a puzzled look as another voice interrupts her thinking in her mind. "What do you know?" She looks at the rest of the group, very aware of her facial expression spacing out whenever she is communicating with her dearest patron.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Blixanix Glitterpain, Goblin Bard - In campaign: Ravnica, City of Guilds
The Soggiest DM - In campaign: Boats, Rocks & Ruffians Eira Whitefeather, Human Sorcerer/Warlock - In campaign: Death Inspectors Expanded
Roland "THUNDER HIPPO" Wolfscribe, Human Bloodhunter - In campaign: Core City: A Play-by-post Adventure
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Kanrath's silver eyes look down on Omega, signs of sorrow and pity for what has become for this devout servant of a lady who is not just a queen, but a goddess. He raises a hand."If you are in need of relief for your suffering, you only need ask. My magic can mend wounds on the physical body, but those of the mind of spirit take longer. I am willing to aid fellow servants, should Our Lady deem it. One should not suffer alone."
Kanrath may be a sentinel for the night, but it also includes ensuring that those may rest well knowing that he is there. His magic has been gifted by his tenants, and this is one of them. He reaches out, offering to provide healing miracles for Omega should he accept them.
If Omega accepts, a level 2 Cure Wounds:16 hit points healed.
Haha, gonna use all my spells before we even leave the first "room" of the campaign!
Gwyllen hears the conversations taking place behind her as far away voices, as if in a mine shaft, high above. The sharp croaks of the Raven before her are a mockery of the torment she seem to be inundated by and she stays her frustration with a chilly breath.
Fiachra emits a rolling series of clicks from the back of its throat as Gwyllen grips the spine of the book more tightly and rolls its pages to face the ground, placing the open tome delicately atop the skull hovering before her. Her left hand still outstretched, channeling energy to the helpful projection, she slides her hand into her cloak and removes it again, a frozen glob of thick ice within her palm.
"Cold is all I have to offer, feathery spirit. Neguko lumen grip izoztua dena da." The Mage hand lowers the skull to the ground, gently setting it within the bones, the book's pages still a roof atop its dome.
Her left hand balls into a fist and the ghostly hand dissipates. She extends her fingers and thrust them horizontally above the bones, then spreads her index and middle fingers, striking them downwards. Blue crystals rain from her fingers once more, and the ground around the skull becomes cold and icy, sending a frosty coat shimmering over the bones.
Prestidigation to chill the ground beneath the bones, no concentration required.
She hisses and crouches next to the bones, laying the hand in the ice, the skin freezing to it on contact. Raising her right hand like a frozen club, she brings it down forcefully to the side of the skull, moaning with pain.
"Run to this cold embrace, oh child of the grave. Be remembered. Izotzak eramango zaitu" she says through gritted teeth.The icy orb within her frozen hand bursts into cold flame upon impact, followed by ghostly hand bursting from her flesh and coating her arm in veins of ice which run beneath her cloak and send shivers down her spine. The hand of ice burns into her flesh as she lays it atop the book and frozen tears form icicles on her cheeks.
Proceeds to cast Chill Touchdirectly the ground next to the skull. That shit is majorly chill, man. Chill of the Grave!
(OOC: Your DM hasn't had a working computer for some time and is horrible at communicating life. Working from home now, so let's see if anyone still wants to play.)
Omega looks to Kanrath with solemn appreciation, "Thank you. I feel a bit better now." He looks over at each of you in turn, then produces a parchment from somewhere, "Your Queen's command." He hands it over to Kanrath with a simple nod and whispers to him, "They will need your will and your kindness to make it through the trials ahead."
He then walks over to Eira. He nods knowingly at her, then hands her some shaded spectacles and whispers, "For when the voices come and you are in the presence of others."
Onto Noctis and Sparkle Mat, "Dear Bothersome Rug. I think you have found another friend. He may need your help more than I." Looking to Noctis, "Sparkle Mat has saved my life more than once. Would you care to take him along with you on this mission?"
He then steps way over to Gwyllen and sighs deeply. Speaking softly to her, "I can see and feel your confusion. Let me help you. There is nothing colder than the embrace of true death, but what if you're searching for those that aren't quite dead yet? They would be warmer, maybe even hot, depending on how they are dying. Perhaps with your abilities to trace the fey lines and hence find portals (lifting his eyebrows for effect), you could use the book to aid in your initial mission. The next is in that parchment." He then looks pleadingly into her eyes and whispers, "Each of you is being tested by the Queen, some more than others. Help them survive, pleazze. Resurrection is only as the Queen's command and approval."
Welcome back! Glad to hear that things are settling a little on your end.
Kanrath looks to the scroll being passed to him. He solemnly accepts the gift. "It is my duty to guard those in the darkness." He replies simply. He will take a look at the scroll, attempting to discern what it has written upon it, but not wishing to use it at this point unless it is required.
Gwyllen raises her eyebrows in mock surprise before raising her chin with pride and pulling her cloak confidently across her body.
"Thanks, but I'll be quite warm without it; I breath more frost than air somed days. I get the feeling you might sweat out a lot of fluids during the night... I'd hate to see you lose your absorbent layer, friend. You may know your way around a rug, but I wouldn't recommend offending Sparky there."
Feeling more alive than she has for days, Gwyllen steps away from Omega, nodding her thanks to Kanrath and walks towards the pile of bones. Pulling a strange, dark book from within her cloak, she cracks it openly reverently and stands among the dead. Crouching down she begins to speak under her breath, too quietly to hear.
Gwyllen begins experimenting with the mysterious book.
Her mind and body are focused on the tingling Fey energies she is forever connected to and she tests the limits of her expanded abilities, seeking some clue that may help her collect these precious mementos for the Queen.
Daily INT roll - 6
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
Noctis keeps the staring contest going for a solid five-seconds before he (cheats) takes his finger and scratches under the carpet/mat's 'chin', "Hehe, aren't you a interesting one~" He then casts his own spell on the mat, cleaning it up.
Spell casted - Prestidigitation
Catching a bit of Gwyllen's words, Noct raises an eye brow, then also notes her revealing figure chuckles, "As much as I am enjoying the view, does the lady need another layer? I know most aren't blessed with my tolerance for the weather." He then holds out his jacket, with a playful smile, "Don't worry~ You won't be cursed for touching it~"
---------------------------
Arcana Roll = Gwyllen casts some kind of low-level protective spell on Noctis. It is not one he is familiar with casting, but may have experienced it in the past.
A shimmer of light falls softly around Noctis. The sheen creates a magical barrier between him and everything else. Along with it, comes a tiny sense of reassurance, which instantly fades the moment Noctis touches the rug. Sparkle Mat's non-existent head rears back on its non-existent neck as if to say, "No, he did NOT just touch me." In an instant, the rug leaps towards Noctis, then freezes in mid-air, as it's hit with a spell. Mat looks at Noctis, who is very, very close and mostly surrounded, then at itself. Repeats this a couple of times, while beating itself with its tassels. Then everything clicks and Sparkle Mat rises up into the air with joy. Flying all around while Noctis flirts with Gwyllen, then landing next to Noctis with a tassel out, ready for a handshake. The entire time, SM shoots Omega looks with a Tah-Dah expression on its non-existent face.
Omega buries his head in his hands to avoid having to respond to Sparkle, but finally gives in with patronizing claps. "Well done, Noctis, way to avoid the Rug of Death. Few, especially those with us now, cannot say the same. Oh, and yes, Sparkle he is amazing and you look even better clean than you normally do." This last bit obviously pained Omega to say, but SM takes absolutely no notice and swoons a bit. Batting his non-existent eyelashes at Omega and throwing him little tassel waves.
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
Arcana roll = As you know the cantrip, you are very sure she cast Guidance on you. It has yet to activate.
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
-----------------------
For Eira:
A voice draws a slow, seductive breath in the back of her mind, "But, the danger tastes so sweet, does it not? I think you can hear me better now that you are closer to me. Perhaps we can understand each other better, too. You've been so useful, my beauty."
----------------------------
Omega painfully turns towards Marenos, "Yes, it's better to know. The short version: A war is coming and the Queen asks for your help in avoiding it. You are currently located on the demi-plane called Neth. It's a living plane...for the love of everything you hold dear, DO NOT engage with it. It likes to play with those that travel here. There is no telling for how long, as time and a few other things don't work the same as they do on the material plane." He wheezes a bit from having talked so quickly, "Neth is a gateway to many other realms, planes, times, and more. Our dearest Queen has made a deal with it (which it has promised to keep) to allow safe passage through its gates and portals. The one behind us is to the Shadow Realm. This is not the way. For any reason. Especially, if you ever want to go home." Omega leans forward to cough and blood hits the ground, "Great."
The Raven on the Right of the gate cackles and mimics Omega's voice, "Promises, promises." Omega looks up at it, then at Gwyllen, shaking his head. "At least one of you is able to read the ley lines that connect the gates. Has anyone here had any dealings, training, or study of planar travel? Any innate powers calling out from the beyond, maybe?"
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
Sorry charlie, gate bonus is no more.
She can vaguely hear Omega talking in the background, as she stands there pushing her fey light out. However, as she is feeling better the energy is not a potent as last time. She can feel a connection with the book start to form and there is a moment where the lines become visible. The book turns cold to the touch, and the longer she stands there, then colder it becomes. Suddenly, she hears with perfect distinction, "promises, promises" from the Raven on the Right. Snapping her focus back to Omega's conversation and her light goes dim.
When she looks at the jewel on the front of the book, the liquid has frozen in the jewel and is giving off icy mist.
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
Noctis smirks at the Mat and takes a tassel, giving it a firm shake as he happily states, "Pleasure to meet you my rugged friend~ I get the feeling we'll get along just fine~"
With the carpet free, and a companion now relieved of wounds, Kanrath turns his attention back to Omega. Seeing the figure coughing up blood, he is somewhat concerned about this. Why does one who appears to be undead ail like one of life?
Medicine: 25
Religion: 9
Kanrath takes a few steps towards Omega. "So the gods have called upon mortals for aid. I am not a scholar of the planes, merely a sentinel of my people. My devotion is to that of my pantheon and to ensure that even in the darkness we are safe. With that, I can offer my service." The centaur brings one of his hands to his chest, lightly touching the emblem of the raven upon it.
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Looking over her shoulder at the distraction, Gwyllen sighs and turns back to the icy book cover before taking a deep breath and nodding. What's the worst that could happen, death?
She closes her eyes and stands, holding her open palm downward above the bones, and whispers.
"Utzi iezadazu zure liburua betetzen, ama. I am but a vessel for your will, Great Raven. Show me what secrets I must take from the fallen."
Fluffy snow begins to drip from her palm and a blue ghost of her hand falls with it, coming to rest on the bones. The magickal projection reverently runs across the bones before resting on a skull. It caresses the dome of smooth bone before lifting squeezing the cranium lightly and lifting it up to float in front of the book.
Gwyllen raises her chin and lets her eyes roll back in their sockets as she continues to speak, hoping to communicate with the dead in some way.
"Hitz egin niri, oh erorita. Tell us your story so you will be remembered."
Fiachra alights on Gwyllen's shoulder once again, its eyes frosty over and beak chattering slightly.
Passive Perception rises to 17 with Fiachra's presence.
Mage Hand. No concentration required. https://www.dndbeyond.com/spells/mage-hand
Comprehend Languages as a ritual in case communication is needed.
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
A familiar sensation, one of shifting heat and cold, crawls up and down Eiras spine. "I might just seek you out and find you if we stay on this plane long, Dumeron, but your lady seemingly has plans for me.. but you probably already knew that.." Eira seemingly blushes out of nowhere and clears her throat.
The whole ordeal really is quite upsetting, especially to a someone as unlearned as Eira. She thinks of what to say. The young blonde goes through ten or twenty different ways to say what she is about to say in her head before blurting out a single. "Ehmm.." She chokes on her words as if she forgot how to speak. "I have no formal knowledge of planar travel, but my family does and I might have overheard my father talking about it once or twice. He is an expert on angels you see... I'm not really that fond of books myself, but I get by.." Damnit. A well calculated sentence lost to rambling again. Oh right, the planes! Eira takes a brief moment to breath and call upon her angels to help her remember.
Arcana (for if Eira has ever overheard her father talking about his research or something of the like): 19
Casting: Guidance adding the result to the Arcana check: 2
Blixanix Glitterpain, Goblin Bard - In campaign: Ravnica, City of GuildsThe Soggiest DM - In campaign: Boats, Rocks & RuffiansEira Whitefeather, Human Sorcerer/Warlock - In campaign: Death Inspectors ExpandedRoland "THUNDER HIPPO" Wolfscribe, Human Bloodhunter - In campaign: Core City: A Play-by-post Adventure
For Eira:
Yes, she has definitely heard her father talk about the grandeur and trappings of the celestial planes. She has heard him wax poetic at the beautiful dangers and hideousness of the abyssal planes. There were mentions on how to travel to these planes from the material world through death, prayer, and other magical means that are lost to you. Ley lines were never mentioned or travel of the planes by other means. He had a map of sorts in his office on a wall. It was an artist's interpretation of the different planes. Overrun with gilded fancies, monsters, and elements. The whole thing was hard to decipher. Neth was never talked about, at least in your presence.
As she thinks about this, a familiar voice speaks, "Ooo, ask me, ask me! You did fine. You are far too hard on yourself, my pet. Relax, no one even noticed."
Omega listens and nods at Eira words, "You said he was an expert on angels? Well, that could be of use. Yes., maybe. We'll have to see where she sends you." He looks around impatiently and gives death stares at the back of Gwyllen, "ANYONE ELSE?" He groans at the exertion and sighs heavily.
He then looks up at the centaur, "You are a generous and compassionate soul. I can see how my current form puzzles you. Let's just say if I go back to the Queen for another body, she won't be pleased. Thus, I'm stuck here for now. It may also be that my magic has been...limited, and if I perform any there is a physical cost. So, in short, I am in need of your services...please." He bows his head at Kanrath.
For Kanrath:
Internal bleeding, bruising all over his body, possible lack of oxygen to the point of unconsciousness recently, possible organ failure, depression, anxiety, some kind of overall hair loss, anemic, very old, very tired, could use a massage, and in more pain, than he is letting on.
You believe that he may be one of the Queen's original servants, known as a shadar-kai. They are bound to the Queen and do her bidding across the planes.
The Raven on the Right flies over to the mini-blizzard happening close by. It pecks at the bones, looks up at the frosty warlock, and pecks at the bones some more. "Cold!," it caws out, "Cold!" The creature cackles a bit more, then jumps up and down, "Cold! Cold! Cold!"
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
Eira beams with pride at the mention of her father but her eyes get a puzzled look as another voice interrupts her thinking in her mind. "What do you know?" She looks at the rest of the group, very aware of her facial expression spacing out whenever she is communicating with her dearest patron.
Blixanix Glitterpain, Goblin Bard - In campaign: Ravnica, City of GuildsThe Soggiest DM - In campaign: Boats, Rocks & RuffiansEira Whitefeather, Human Sorcerer/Warlock - In campaign: Death Inspectors ExpandedRoland "THUNDER HIPPO" Wolfscribe, Human Bloodhunter - In campaign: Core City: A Play-by-post Adventure
Kanrath's silver eyes look down on Omega, signs of sorrow and pity for what has become for this devout servant of a lady who is not just a queen, but a goddess. He raises a hand. "If you are in need of relief for your suffering, you only need ask. My magic can mend wounds on the physical body, but those of the mind of spirit take longer. I am willing to aid fellow servants, should Our Lady deem it. One should not suffer alone."
Kanrath may be a sentinel for the night, but it also includes ensuring that those may rest well knowing that he is there. His magic has been gifted by his tenants, and this is one of them. He reaches out, offering to provide healing miracles for Omega should he accept them.
If Omega accepts, a level 2 Cure Wounds: 16 hit points healed.
Haha, gonna use all my spells before we even leave the first "room" of the campaign!
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Gwyllen hears the conversations taking place behind her as far away voices, as if in a mine shaft, high above. The sharp croaks of the Raven before her are a mockery of the torment she seem to be inundated by and she stays her frustration with a chilly breath.
Fiachra emits a rolling series of clicks from the back of its throat as Gwyllen grips the spine of the book more tightly and rolls its pages to face the ground, placing the open tome delicately atop the skull hovering before her. Her left hand still outstretched, channeling energy to the helpful projection, she slides her hand into her cloak and removes it again, a frozen glob of thick ice within her palm.
"Cold is all I have to offer, feathery spirit. Neguko lumen grip izoztua dena da." The Mage hand lowers the skull to the ground, gently setting it within the bones, the book's pages still a roof atop its dome.
Her left hand balls into a fist and the ghostly hand dissipates. She extends her fingers and thrust them horizontally above the bones, then spreads her index and middle fingers, striking them downwards. Blue crystals rain from her fingers once more, and the ground around the skull becomes cold and icy, sending a frosty coat shimmering over the bones.
Prestidigation to chill the ground beneath the bones, no concentration required.
She hisses and crouches next to the bones, laying the hand in the ice, the skin freezing to it on contact. Raising her right hand like a frozen club, she brings it down forcefully to the side of the skull, moaning with pain.
"Run to this cold embrace, oh child of the grave. Be remembered. Izotzak eramango zaitu" she says through gritted teeth. The icy orb within her frozen hand bursts into cold flame upon impact, followed by ghostly hand bursting from her flesh and coating her arm in veins of ice which run beneath her cloak and send shivers down her spine. The hand of ice burns into her flesh as she lays it atop the book and frozen tears form icicles on her cheeks.
Proceeds to cast Chill Touch directly the ground next to the skull. That shit is majorly chill, man. Chill of the Grave!
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
(OOC: Your DM hasn't had a working computer for some time and is horrible at communicating life. Working from home now, so let's see if anyone still wants to play.)
Omega looks to Kanrath with solemn appreciation, "Thank you. I feel a bit better now." He looks over at each of you in turn, then produces a parchment from somewhere, "Your Queen's command." He hands it over to Kanrath with a simple nod and whispers to him, "They will need your will and your kindness to make it through the trials ahead."
He then walks over to Eira. He nods knowingly at her, then hands her some shaded spectacles and whispers, "For when the voices come and you are in the presence of others."
Onto Noctis and Sparkle Mat, "Dear Bothersome Rug. I think you have found another friend. He may need your help more than I." Looking to Noctis, "Sparkle Mat has saved my life more than once. Would you care to take him along with you on this mission?"
He then steps way over to Gwyllen and sighs deeply. Speaking softly to her, "I can see and feel your confusion. Let me help you. There is nothing colder than the embrace of true death, but what if you're searching for those that aren't quite dead yet? They would be warmer, maybe even hot, depending on how they are dying. Perhaps with your abilities to trace the fey lines and hence find portals (lifting his eyebrows for effect), you could use the book to aid in your initial mission. The next is in that parchment." He then looks pleadingly into her eyes and whispers, "Each of you is being tested by the Queen, some more than others. Help them survive, pleazze. Resurrection is only as the Queen's command and approval."
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
Welcome back! Glad to hear that things are settling a little on your end.
Kanrath looks to the scroll being passed to him. He solemnly accepts the gift. "It is my duty to guard those in the darkness." He replies simply. He will take a look at the scroll, attempting to discern what it has written upon it, but not wishing to use it at this point unless it is required.
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon