This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Quill: At Warrel's name, Tryma pauses, looks down for a moment, and plays with a cricket that crawls out of her sleeve. When she looks up, her lips form a sardonic little smile.
You feel a wave of sleepiness tugging at your consciousness. (Sleep32 at second level) *If it's higher than 24, you fall unconscious based on your current hp.*
As Quill's eyes flutter and he slumps to the ground, the last thing he hears is Tryma's mocking laughter which starts in her normal high pitched little voice, and then deepens to a rich dark contralto.
Esvaris: Moving at top speed, you still have to push past the midday crowds as you pass through the square in front of the Basilica to outpace the carriage. (Make a dex check DC12)
Esvaris: You are casually standing on the steps near the main gate as the carriage arrives. You see the footman open the right side door and Dawnlord Wintermoon step out. He hasn't noticed you, but the two solar guards flanking the smaller gate to your left are eyeing you, surprised by your sudden dash up the stone stairs.
Quill: Less than a minute later you feel a stabbing sensation in several locations on your body, as if you are being bitten repeatedly. (Make a Constitution Saving Throw) Now in a shifting swirling haze of color and sound, you feel your body being moved, but almost as if it belongs to someone else. You hear voices but they seem distant and you aren't sure if you are hallucinating them.
Demoiselle gives Dawnlord Wintermoon an amused look as she hops out. "Now you surely are mocking me, bon Père, I do have an extra set of robes among my possessions." She replied with a smirk.
Demoiselle and Esvaris: The elderly cleric, Dawnlord Wintermoon, thanks the carriage driver, tips him with a blessed talisman rather than the money the man was clearly expecting, and moves up the steps of the Basilica to pat Esvaris on the shoulder. "Excellent timing. Between the three of us," he nods at Demoiselle who is standing next to the dead guard, Tristan, as the carriage pulls away, "I'm sure we can bring this unfortunate young man into the Nave, don't you?" Despite his words, he begins to walk into the open main gates, clearly leaving the heavy lifting to the two of you. The Basilica is quiet and unusually still at this time of day. You notice that there are no guards next to the smaller Solar Gate.
Korlan: After eavesdropping, briefly, on the staff at Lord Atterley's manner, you notice Lord Brackus Atterley, himself, now wearing a hooded black cloak, exiting through the garden door in a stealthy manner, his face twisted in an angry scowl. He heads toward an old stone outbuilding in the extensive gardens. He sets his right hand, fingers splayed, upon the stone door, but then pauses and glances around carefully to make sure no one is watching. (Make a stealth check if you don't wish to be seen)
Quill: The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the cold. The air itself around you and the smooth stone slab beneath you both give off that aching bone-deep chill that comes from being underground in a place where the sun's warmth is completely unknown. Next, you realize that, even though your eyes are open, all you see is pitch blackness and the only sound you hear is soft breathing coming from your right. You do not feel your weapons and pack on you.
Quill: Your words elicit no response and the shallow breathing continues, unabated. Your amulet feels faintly warm to the touch, which it never has before. A memory rises in your mind, of the day you received this symbol of your holy dedication to Usora. It was a special gift from Dawnlord Wintermoon. The central Amethyst, winking yellow in the sun as the two of you stood on the hill behind the Second Sun temple, was a lovely representation of the rising sun and the goddess. He said that it had been given to him as a young novice, before he had grown old and soul sick over the years and sought refuge here in this remote temple. Not having a son of his own, he said with one wrinkled old hand on your shoulder, he wanted to pass it down to a "son of his heart". Then he'd prayed over you that Usora's protection would be upon you in times of great need.
Esvaris and Demoiselle: You pass through the courtyard and by the fountain, then pass into the cooler dimness of the nave itself. Wintermoon directs you to place the body on the raised dais, just in front of the area where the High Dawnlord usually stands to give his greeting to the dawn. Beams of golden colored light filter down from the high clerestory windows above, giving a sort of glowing look to Tristan's still features. Your mentor's brow crinkles in contemplation, "Now, which is best? Raising the dead takes longer and is quite costly, but making the dead speak seems a bit rude to one who has probably already found his eternal reward." He glances down at the young man and arches one brow. "Then again, who knows but the goddess if perhaps he found himself in a less pleasant final destination..."
Just then, you are all interrupted by a commotion at the entrance to the nave. "You, elf!" The familiar strident voice of the false prophetess, Kara-Tur, echoes in the vaulted ceilings as she rushes towards you. "Did you feel it?" she demands urgently, stopping at the base of the dais, a few steps below the group of you. "Just after everyone cleared out of Atterley's mansion? Someone activated a portal nearby. Did you sense it, too, as I did?" Her eyes narrow at all of you with suspicion. "Or were you or your suddenly missing companions responsible for it?" Her hand lowers to the dagger at her waist.
Demoiselle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I would suggest, Mademoiselle, that you keep that hand away from your dagger. It would be a shame if you were to drop it and 'accidentally' sit on the point." she growled.
Korlan: Satisfied that no one is watching, Atterley turns back to the stone door. His hand glows white as he mumbles under his breath. A wheel of magical green fire briefly flares in the stone around his hand and then the door moves inward and slides to the left, revealing a mostly dark interior due to the utter lack of windows. The only light source is coming from the stone floor where an engraved circle, resembling a wreath, emits the same eerie green fire, currently dulled in intensity. Atterley moves through the stone door entrance and it slowly begins to close again.
"Well, if there were ever a time I was in great need, it would likely be right now. Usoara," he prays, voice filling with solemnity and magic as he slowly attempts to rise on the stone slab, holding the amulet before him as if it were a weapon, "please grant me some of your divine light and with it, let me see what trouble I am in now, and how to overcome it!"
Quill: As you cast Light on your amulet its sudden glow fills the cold underground room. As your eyes adjust, you see that this room has only one door, also stone, and two raised stone slabs. You are sitting on one and the other holds the corpulent form of Lord Atterley, not dead, but in some sort of unnatural sleep.
Demoiselle: The beautiful, but deadly, Kara-Tur looks sharply at you, and then relaxes her stance somewhat. In a less confrontational tone, she says, "I have traveled in cities and in the wild and even passed from one plane of existence to another briefly. I can sense when a portal has been opened within a certain distance. I have reason to believe that you "holy folk" have some ability with portals." She clearly expects an answer immediately.
Quill lowers his voice slightly.
"You mean like Warrel?"
And that's all I have to say about that.
Quill: At Warrel's name, Tryma pauses, looks down for a moment, and plays with a cricket that crawls out of her sleeve. When she looks up, her lips form a sardonic little smile.
You feel a wave of sleepiness tugging at your consciousness. (Sleep 32 at second level) *If it's higher than 24, you fall unconscious based on your current hp.*
As Quill's eyes flutter and he slumps to the ground, the last thing he hears is Tryma's mocking laughter which starts in her normal high pitched little voice, and then deepens to a rich dark contralto.
Esvaris: Moving at top speed, you still have to push past the midday crowds as you pass through the square in front of the Basilica to outpace the carriage. (Make a dex check DC12)
OOC: Well, shoot! The gnome isn't so innocent after all! (I mean, figures, but yikes :-P )
And that's all I have to say about that.
Esvaris
Dex check: 15
IRL: Dungeon Master--Adventures in the Cassitana Islands
PbP: Player--Esvaris Liadon, Wood Elf Monk 2/Cleric 2--Clerical Heirs: A Divine Mystery
Esvaris: You are casually standing on the steps near the main gate as the carriage arrives. You see the footman open the right side door and Dawnlord Wintermoon step out. He hasn't noticed you, but the two solar guards flanking the smaller gate to your left are eyeing you, surprised by your sudden dash up the stone stairs.
Quill: Less than a minute later you feel a stabbing sensation in several locations on your body, as if you are being bitten repeatedly. (Make a Constitution Saving Throw) Now in a shifting swirling haze of color and sound, you feel your body being moved, but almost as if it belongs to someone else. You hear voices but they seem distant and you aren't sure if you are hallucinating them.
14
OOC: Yikes again!
And that's all I have to say about that.
Demoiselle gives Dawnlord Wintermoon an amused look as she hops out. "Now you surely are mocking me, bon Père, I do have an extra set of robes among my possessions." She replied with a smirk.
If we're still up and going, can you put me in my place here. Been trying to follow, but have been busy. Should have more time now. Sorry everyone.
PC: Fitzroy Hammerstone - The Mad Empiricist of Corinth
DM:
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Demoiselle and Esvaris: The elderly cleric, Dawnlord Wintermoon, thanks the carriage driver, tips him with a blessed talisman rather than the money the man was clearly expecting, and moves up the steps of the Basilica to pat Esvaris on the shoulder. "Excellent timing. Between the three of us," he nods at Demoiselle who is standing next to the dead guard, Tristan, as the carriage pulls away, "I'm sure we can bring this unfortunate young man into the Nave, don't you?" Despite his words, he begins to walk into the open main gates, clearly leaving the heavy lifting to the two of you. The Basilica is quiet and unusually still at this time of day. You notice that there are no guards next to the smaller Solar Gate.
Korlan: After eavesdropping, briefly, on the staff at Lord Atterley's manner, you notice Lord Brackus Atterley, himself, now wearing a hooded black cloak, exiting through the garden door in a stealthy manner, his face twisted in an angry scowl. He heads toward an old stone outbuilding in the extensive gardens. He sets his right hand, fingers splayed, upon the stone door, but then pauses and glances around carefully to make sure no one is watching. (Make a stealth check if you don't wish to be seen)
Quill: The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the cold. The air itself around you and the smooth stone slab beneath you both give off that aching bone-deep chill that comes from being underground in a place where the sun's warmth is completely unknown. Next, you realize that, even though your eyes are open, all you see is pitch blackness and the only sound you hear is soft breathing coming from your right. You do not feel your weapons and pack on you.
Quill gulps, hand scrabbling at his chest where, he hopes, his holy symbol, an amulet, has not been taken.
"Who's there?" he demands, though his voice is not what would be called "typical" for a demand. It trembles slightly.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Quill: Your words elicit no response and the shallow breathing continues, unabated. Your amulet feels faintly warm to the touch, which it never has before. A memory rises in your mind, of the day you received this symbol of your holy dedication to Usora. It was a special gift from Dawnlord Wintermoon. The central Amethyst, winking yellow in the sun as the two of you stood on the hill behind the Second Sun temple, was a lovely representation of the rising sun and the goddess. He said that it had been given to him as a young novice, before he had grown old and soul sick over the years and sought refuge here in this remote temple. Not having a son of his own, he said with one wrinkled old hand on your shoulder, he wanted to pass it down to a "son of his heart". Then he'd prayed over you that Usora's protection would be upon you in times of great need.
Esvaris
I look to Demoiselle, and then to the body. "I've got the feet" I say as I go attempt to lift Tristan's feet.
IRL: Dungeon Master--Adventures in the Cassitana Islands
PbP: Player--Esvaris Liadon, Wood Elf Monk 2/Cleric 2--Clerical Heirs: A Divine Mystery
Esvaris and Demoiselle: You pass through the courtyard and by the fountain, then pass into the cooler dimness of the nave itself. Wintermoon directs you to place the body on the raised dais, just in front of the area where the High Dawnlord usually stands to give his greeting to the dawn. Beams of golden colored light filter down from the high clerestory windows above, giving a sort of glowing look to Tristan's still features. Your mentor's brow crinkles in contemplation, "Now, which is best? Raising the dead takes longer and is quite costly, but making the dead speak seems a bit rude to one who has probably already found his eternal reward." He glances down at the young man and arches one brow. "Then again, who knows but the goddess if perhaps he found himself in a less pleasant final destination..."
Just then, you are all interrupted by a commotion at the entrance to the nave. "You, elf!" The familiar strident voice of the false prophetess, Kara-Tur, echoes in the vaulted ceilings as she rushes towards you. "Did you feel it?" she demands urgently, stopping at the base of the dais, a few steps below the group of you. "Just after everyone cleared out of Atterley's mansion? Someone activated a portal nearby. Did you sense it, too, as I did?" Her eyes narrow at all of you with suspicion. "Or were you or your suddenly missing companions responsible for it?" Her hand lowers to the dagger at her waist.
Demoiselle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I would suggest, Mademoiselle, that you keep that hand away from your dagger. It would be a shame if you were to drop it and 'accidentally' sit on the point." she growled.
Korlan
As I peer at Lord Atterley from behind the corner of a building, I try not to make a sound. Where is he going......?
Stealth: 19
PC: Fitzroy Hammerstone - The Mad Empiricist of Corinth
DM:
Popular Stream Character Sheets
Korlan: Satisfied that no one is watching, Atterley turns back to the stone door. His hand glows white as he mumbles under his breath. A wheel of magical green fire briefly flares in the stone around his hand and then the door moves inward and slides to the left, revealing a mostly dark interior due to the utter lack of windows. The only light source is coming from the stone floor where an engraved circle, resembling a wreath, emits the same eerie green fire, currently dulled in intensity. Atterley moves through the stone door entrance and it slowly begins to close again.
Demoiselle: (Make an Intimidation check)
Korlan
Well I don't want to be left out of that room. I rush to the door and try to slide in in the last moment before the door closes.
PC: Fitzroy Hammerstone - The Mad Empiricist of Corinth
DM:
Popular Stream Character Sheets
Quill frowns.
"Well, if there were ever a time I was in great need, it would likely be right now. Usoara," he prays, voice filling with solemnity and magic as he slowly attempts to rise on the stone slab, holding the amulet before him as if it were a weapon, "please grant me some of your divine light and with it, let me see what trouble I am in now, and how to overcome it!"
And that's all I have to say about that.
Intimidation: 5
Korlan: (Make a Dex check)
Quill: As you cast Light on your amulet its sudden glow fills the cold underground room. As your eyes adjust, you see that this room has only one door, also stone, and two raised stone slabs. You are sitting on one and the other holds the corpulent form of Lord Atterley, not dead, but in some sort of unnatural sleep.
Demoiselle: The beautiful, but deadly, Kara-Tur looks sharply at you, and then relaxes her stance somewhat. In a less confrontational tone, she says, "I have traveled in cities and in the wild and even passed from one plane of existence to another briefly. I can sense when a portal has been opened within a certain distance. I have reason to believe that you "holy folk" have some ability with portals." She clearly expects an answer immediately.