asher groans as he rises and scampers as far away as he can , fearing another catastrophic reaction , he pulls a journal from his bag amd makes a note in it 'DO NOT BURN STRANGE POWDERS' in big bold letters befor puting it back
Rising, Quartz thinks aloud, "Heat is cold, light is warm." He mutters to himself, "Bring light to cold."
Quartz advises the others "I want to try something. Everyone stand back. The powers that dwell here are proving unpredictable."
When it's clear, Quartz casts Faerie fire on the shrine.
[You're good for Faerie Fire. No extra dice roll]
The altar is bathed in a vibrant magical light, but beyond the swirling colors casting luminous shadows across the opaque haze round it, said altar remains the same.
Korbiña's torch begins to dim. It's just about ready to go out, and for the mist to begin creeping back in.
A spark from the old torch falls on one of the moss clumps by her feet. Again, warm pink smoke billows from the patch, radiating a gentle heat. The sensation is gone as quickly as it comes, as the rest of the moss quickly extinguishes the spark with its ambient chill.
asher limps around the clearong gathering up armfulls of the blue moss and piling it Infront of the alter. " before i ....ummm do anything else , dose any one object to lighting the piles of moss or would yall like to try something else , i can fire bolt it from here "
Korbiña looks... and shakes her head, while checking her distance to the altar...
She looks up to the sky that is probably barely visible through the foilage... then to the ground... then back to Asher... she shivers feeling a strange chill that is not the cold from the mist or the moss... then she braces herself for whatever effect will be conjured up this time...
"evry one stay well back " asher gets ready to cast fire bolt before a thought comes to him, he lights a torch from his bag using the one Korbiña is holding and casts mage hand to levitate it over to the pile. " better to not do anything to create another explosion" he dropped the torch on the pile and prayed to whatever gods of knowledge and magic that would listen that things didn't explode again
Atop the black stone of the altar, the moss catches flame surprisingly fast. The fire itself is a warm gentle pink. Soft magenta smoke rises from the pyre, yet while said fire burns bright, the light itself feels cool. The smoke, however, curls around each of the party's members, warming every inch of them. It's the scent of rich earth and a soft fragrant spice. It's like incense. It billows and curls, warming the very air around them. They each feel as if you're in a warm sauna. The letters on the altar glow, all except for the last line:Bask in Grace
Korbiña slowly approaches the altar... feeling so hot... she takes off her coat holding the torch to look around and see if there have been any changes to their surroundings...
The smoke seems to stick to her, the warmth caressing her cold flesh. But indeed, she sees a change. Slowly, her vision allows her to see every sconce lighting, one by one snapping to life with the same vibrant pink flame. She wonders if it's hallucinatory, as it seems she's the only one of the conscious three to notice.
[The other two kept a safe distance, so right now Korbiña, you're the only witness to this.]
Quartz, ever trustful, casually walks toward the alter to see if he csn also sense the warmth Korbiña describes.
He, too, becomes awash in the affectuous vapors of the perfumed pyre, the warmth returning to his extremities and a feeling of soft euphoria billowing over him. Even Lelantus in his unconscious state seems to acclimate to the comforting presence, looking more akin to enjoying a gentle slumber than suffering from all the wounds covering his body. Quartz also finds himself privy to the same effect Korbiña was, as tiny pink flames seem to each dance from the sconces on either side of the clearing, something he was certain was not there before. He also notices the final line of the etching glowing brighter.
[I've also got "Old Stories" by Kevin Penkin bouncing around in my head every time I post here, which is honestly really good or really bad for you all.]
"I really feel safe here, Quartz. And I'm tempted to place my bedroll here to rest as I'm truely exhausted" her legs shake a little, so she lowers herself on the ground and doffing her backpack as she feels rhe temoerature of the ground.
" yall let me know if anything goes amiss , scream or something , " asher scavenges some loose wood and branches to start a small camp fire he can sit at and recuperate while he keeps a eye on his companions. " one of us should wait out here incase this is all a trap or something. or as like a control group' asher eyes the pink mist with suspicion
Korbiña smiles at him and gets her things ready for resting. "I'd cook something for us, but I'm way too tired..." she stretches and tucks herself into her bedroll...
The trio sets up camp for an hour or two. Asher stays outside the range of the euphoric incense, wincing at every shift of weight, twitch or turn of his body. To be honest, he isn't in the best condition right now. None of them are. Strangely, the others aren't exhibiting as many signs of discomfort. Korbiña, in fact, is likely in as poor a condition as he, yet here she is on the verge of drifting off while he sits here with what could be described as "bruises upon bruises." Perhaps the smoke had a minor pain relief effect, possibly a mild numbing agent. Quartz seems close to sleep himself. Lelantus, in the poorest condition of them all, snores softly against the giants side, hand under his coat, drooling slightly and showing no signs of discomfort or pain. Interesting.
For some reason, the final line (Bask in Grace) on the altars etching continues to glow dimmer than the rest. It begs the question if Korbiña was on to something when she said this wasn't the sanctuary mentioned. Either way, there's not much he can do to research this for the time being -- at least not without getting closer. But if this were a trap, that would be it.
The sky remains the same opaque white as always. A thick veil of mist hangs over the wood still, obscuring everything beyond 12 feet high. The distant river still roars in the background, providing white noise that helps to bring the party ease.
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asher groans as he rises and scampers as far away as he can , fearing another catastrophic reaction , he pulls a journal from his bag amd makes a note in it 'DO NOT BURN STRANGE POWDERS' in big bold letters befor puting it back
[You're good for Faerie Fire. No extra dice roll]
The altar is bathed in a vibrant magical light, but beyond the swirling colors casting luminous shadows across the opaque haze round it, said altar remains the same.
Korbiña's torch begins to dim. It's just about ready to go out, and for the mist to begin creeping back in.
Korbiña notices the dying flame, puts down her backpack and fishes out another torch, lighting it with the first.
[edited in equipment]
A spark from the old torch falls on one of the moss clumps by her feet. Again, warm pink smoke billows from the patch, radiating a gentle heat. The sensation is gone as quickly as it comes, as the rest of the moss quickly extinguishes the spark with its ambient chill.
asher limps around the clearong gathering up armfulls of the blue moss and piling it Infront of the alter. " before i ....ummm do anything else , dose any one object to lighting the piles of moss or would yall like to try something else , i can fire bolt it from here "
Korbiña looks... and shakes her head, while checking her distance to the altar...
She looks up to the sky that is probably barely visible through the foilage... then to the ground... then back to Asher... she shivers feeling a strange chill that is not the cold from the mist or the moss... then she braces herself for whatever effect will be conjured up this time...
"Go for it," Quartz consent with a nod
"evry one stay well back " asher gets ready to cast fire bolt before a thought comes to him, he lights a torch from his bag using the one Korbiña is holding and casts mage hand to levitate it over to the pile. " better to not do anything to create another explosion" he dropped the torch on the pile and prayed to whatever gods of knowledge and magic that would listen that things didn't explode again
Atop the black stone of the altar, the moss catches flame surprisingly fast. The fire itself is a warm gentle pink. Soft magenta smoke rises from the pyre, yet while said fire burns bright, the light itself feels cool. The smoke, however, curls around each of the party's members, warming every inch of them. It's the scent of rich earth and a soft fragrant spice. It's like incense. It billows and curls, warming the very air around them. They each feel as if you're in a warm sauna. The letters on the altar glow, all except for the last line: Bask in Grace
Korbiña slowly approaches the altar... feeling so hot... she takes off her coat holding the torch to look around and see if there have been any changes to their surroundings...
The smoke seems to stick to her, the warmth caressing her cold flesh. But indeed, she sees a change. Slowly, her vision allows her to see every sconce lighting, one by one snapping to life with the same vibrant pink flame. She wonders if it's hallucinatory, as it seems she's the only one of the conscious three to notice.
[The other two kept a safe distance, so right now Korbiña, you're the only witness to this.]
It feels... good.
"Mmmm this feels nice, guys! We can watm up here."
She looks around further if there is something nice to sit or even to rest...
Quartz, ever trustful, casually walks toward the alter to see if he csn also sense the warmth Korbiña describes.
He, too, becomes awash in the affectuous vapors of the perfumed pyre, the warmth returning to his extremities and a feeling of soft euphoria billowing over him. Even Lelantus in his unconscious state seems to acclimate to the comforting presence, looking more akin to enjoying a gentle slumber than suffering from all the wounds covering his body. Quartz also finds himself privy to the same effect Korbiña was, as tiny pink flames seem to each dance from the sconces on either side of the clearing, something he was certain was not there before. He also notices the final line of the etching glowing brighter.
[I've also got "Old Stories" by Kevin Penkin bouncing around in my head every time I post here, which is honestly really good or really bad for you all.]
"I really feel safe here, Quartz. And I'm tempted to place my bedroll here to rest as I'm truely exhausted" her legs shake a little, so she lowers herself on the ground and doffing her backpack as she feels rhe temoerature of the ground.
" yall let me know if anything goes amiss , scream or something , " asher scavenges some loose wood and branches to start a small camp fire he can sit at and recuperate while he keeps a eye on his companions. " one of us should wait out here incase this is all a trap or something. or as like a control group' asher eyes the pink mist with suspicion
Korbiña smiles at him and gets her things ready for resting. "I'd cook something for us, but I'm way too tired..." she stretches and tucks herself into her bedroll...
[Short Rest approved]
The trio sets up camp for an hour or two. Asher stays outside the range of the euphoric incense, wincing at every shift of weight, twitch or turn of his body. To be honest, he isn't in the best condition right now. None of them are. Strangely, the others aren't exhibiting as many signs of discomfort. Korbiña, in fact, is likely in as poor a condition as he, yet here she is on the verge of drifting off while he sits here with what could be described as "bruises upon bruises." Perhaps the smoke had a minor pain relief effect, possibly a mild numbing agent. Quartz seems close to sleep himself. Lelantus, in the poorest condition of them all, snores softly against the giants side, hand under his coat, drooling slightly and showing no signs of discomfort or pain. Interesting.
For some reason, the final line (Bask in Grace) on the altars etching continues to glow dimmer than the rest. It begs the question if Korbiña was on to something when she said this wasn't the sanctuary mentioned. Either way, there's not much he can do to research this for the time being -- at least not without getting closer. But if this were a trap, that would be it.
The sky remains the same opaque white as always. A thick veil of mist hangs over the wood still, obscuring everything beyond 12 feet high. The distant river still roars in the background, providing white noise that helps to bring the party ease.