"Oh, this—"Bethozus reaches up and touches the crystal. "It was... part of an experiment." They seem hesitant to talk about it. "Anyway, my name is Bethozus and I am looking for some work. Maybe you lot can point me in the right direction... but I suppose it is getting late, isn't it. Sorry."
"You could ask Merri", Zanryn indicates to the dwarf that Zydalia is talking to at the bar. "She's been very helpful to us and probably knows everything and everyone in this place. Or, you could try asking at the guardhouse come the 'morrow; they may be able to use some extra hands for the festival."
Merri comes to your table and produces three keys each with a number corresponding to the door they belong to. “Here you are three rooms as promised and there is a connecting common room between them that will have breakfast in the morning. Looking over at Zydalia she remarks, “Deary your dress is in shambles from the festival put it outside your door tonight and perhaps the fairies will fix it.” She winks and wanders off to another table.
6-8 hours later
AS you sleep the shadows world grew dark and long and there are foul things afoot. The nightmares of men and children stalk that domain with ease. You are each giving in to nightmares of creatures undead and hideous marching on the world. Zombies flesh falling from their bones and skin dry from age. A cruel voice rings out go my minions the gate is being powered now. Seek out the light and destroy it.”
When you wake up you handle these visions in the ways that suit you best. In the common room there is breakfast laid out eggs and cooked bacon with fresh biscuits and gravy.
Durmatl is the first out in the common room, slurping down eggs as if he had not eaten in days. As he others enter his eyes move furtively from one to the other, but a calm settles over him as they sit down to join him at breakfast, seemingly put at ease by the continued companionship. "I don't like cities," he says after a while,"They give me bad dreams."
“How odd,” Zydalia says, as she takes the chair next to Durmatl. “I had bad dreams last night too. Quite distressing, frankly.” She left her dress outside overnight and upon checking in the morning found it had somehow been laundered. She feels good about this, but feels uneasy about the images that had plagued her overnight.
“What about you?” She asks Zanryn, as she tucks into the meal.
Zanryn is drawn from his room by the hearty smell of the cooked breakfast. His sinewed frame is unadorned with yesterday's finery, instead clad in well-worn leather. His expression is an unreadable mask.
In Zanryn's dream, clouds of toxic spores filled the tunnels of his former underworld home. The spores seek out a vast chamber, teaming with eggs. As the green-grey murk spreads across the hatchery, the eggs begin to crack and burst open, revealing hideous, scarred gnomes whose flesh is rent from their disfigured bodies. Slowly, incessantly, this putrid army of the underworld marches up through the tunnels. Zanryn flees, his short legs barely keeping pace with the ugly tendrils that seem to appear at every twist and turn. Finally, he bursts out into daylight, only to see that all the trees are a deathly grey hue and the sky pallid and grim.
On waking, Zanryn dons his leather armour and retrieves his wooden shield from his pack.
Before he answers Zydalia's question, Zanryn checks the window. He turns away and mutters some unintelligible words, cupping his hand*. "Not good", he mutters.
He joins the others at the table, "We'd better eat well this morning".
*Druidcraft: You create a tiny, harmless sensory effect that predicts what the weather will be at your location for the next 24 hours. The effect might manifest as a golden orb for clear skies, a cloud for rain, falling snowflakes for snow, and so on.
Zydalia drops her cutlery, rising to her feet, grabbing her bag and moving quickly to the square, trying not to trip over anything on her way. She pulls out her mace and approaches without caution.
Seeing his companions spring into action, Durmatl chases after them, pieces of egg flying as he jumps around to catch up. His attention momentarily falls on Zanryn strapping on the shield as he runs, and is quick to copy the movement.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Zydalia eyes Zanryn as she pulls her arm free. "I doubt that very much," she grimaces, her innate mistrust of the law guiding her thinking. She tries to look closer at the scene.
Perception: 21
Her simmering anger prevents her from thinking straight or really looking properly, and she looks around the area frantically, scanning the crowd.
"Oh, this—" Bethozus reaches up and touches the crystal. "It was... part of an experiment." They seem hesitant to talk about it. "Anyway, my name is Bethozus and I am looking for some work. Maybe you lot can point me in the right direction... but I suppose it is getting late, isn't it. Sorry."
"You could ask Merri", Zanryn indicates to the dwarf that Zydalia is talking to at the bar. "She's been very helpful to us and probably knows everything and everyone in this place. Or, you could try asking at the guardhouse come the 'morrow; they may be able to use some extra hands for the festival."
"Alright, thank you."
(ready to move on)
OOC: No time to write a full post, and I'll be busy again this evening, sorry! Ready to move on in the meantime
Lynn-Marie Verine-Wintercleaver, Human Bloodhunter - Adventures in Esyldien
Finan Caible, Human Bard - Joys of Balance
Yroc Grumbak, Orc Fighlock - Pizazz's ToA
Arell Peroan, Half-Elf Warlonk - Scattered Gods
ESC! | 10|33|5~
(OOC: Ready to move on)
Merri comes to your table and produces three keys each with a number corresponding to the door they belong to. “Here you are three rooms as promised and there is a connecting common room between them that will have breakfast in the morning. Looking over at Zydalia she remarks, “Deary your dress is in shambles from the festival put it outside your door tonight and perhaps the fairies will fix it.” She winks and wanders off to another table.
6-8 hours later
AS you sleep the shadows world grew dark and long and there are foul things afoot. The nightmares of men and children stalk that domain with ease. You are each giving in to nightmares of creatures undead and hideous marching on the world. Zombies flesh falling from their bones and skin dry from age. A cruel voice rings out go my minions the gate is being powered now. Seek out the light and destroy it.”
When you wake up you handle these visions in the ways that suit you best. In the common room there is breakfast laid out eggs and cooked bacon with fresh biscuits and gravy.
Durmatl is the first out in the common room, slurping down eggs as if he had not eaten in days. As he others enter his eyes move furtively from one to the other, but a calm settles over him as they sit down to join him at breakfast, seemingly put at ease by the continued companionship. "I don't like cities," he says after a while, "They give me bad dreams."
Lynn-Marie Verine-Wintercleaver, Human Bloodhunter - Adventures in Esyldien
Finan Caible, Human Bard - Joys of Balance
Yroc Grumbak, Orc Fighlock - Pizazz's ToA
Arell Peroan, Half-Elf Warlonk - Scattered Gods
ESC! | 10|33|5~
“How odd,” Zydalia says, as she takes the chair next to Durmatl. “I had bad dreams last night too. Quite distressing, frankly.” She left her dress outside overnight and upon checking in the morning found it had somehow been laundered. She feels good about this, but feels uneasy about the images that had plagued her overnight.
“What about you?” She asks Zanryn, as she tucks into the meal.
Zydalia Quexx - Level 2 - Tiefling/Barbarian
Fouder Amberbreaker - Level 4 - Mountain Dwarf/Tempest Cleric
DM - The Children of Hadal
Zanryn is drawn from his room by the hearty smell of the cooked breakfast. His sinewed frame is unadorned with yesterday's finery, instead clad in well-worn leather. His expression is an unreadable mask.
In Zanryn's dream, clouds of toxic spores filled the tunnels of his former underworld home. The spores seek out a vast chamber, teaming with eggs. As the green-grey murk spreads across the hatchery, the eggs begin to crack and burst open, revealing hideous, scarred gnomes whose flesh is rent from their disfigured bodies. Slowly, incessantly, this putrid army of the underworld marches up through the tunnels. Zanryn flees, his short legs barely keeping pace with the ugly tendrils that seem to appear at every twist and turn. Finally, he bursts out into daylight, only to see that all the trees are a deathly grey hue and the sky pallid and grim.
On waking, Zanryn dons his leather armour and retrieves his wooden shield from his pack.
Before he answers Zydalia's question, Zanryn checks the window. He turns away and mutters some unintelligible words, cupping his hand*. "Not good", he mutters.
He joins the others at the table, "We'd better eat well this morning".
*Druidcraft: You create a tiny, harmless sensory effect that predicts what the weather will be at your location for the next 24 hours. The effect might manifest as a golden orb for clear skies, a cloud for rain, falling snowflakes for snow, and so on.
As you eat contemplating your dreams and nightmares there is a scream from the town square.
Zanryn snatches up his cane, shield and pack then hesitates, puts them down again and stuffs the last of his bacon and biscuits into his mouth.
Zydalia drops her cutlery, rising to her feet, grabbing her bag and moving quickly to the square, trying not to trip over anything on her way. She pulls out her mace and approaches without caution.
Zydalia Quexx - Level 2 - Tiefling/Barbarian
Fouder Amberbreaker - Level 4 - Mountain Dwarf/Tempest Cleric
DM - The Children of Hadal
Seeing his companions spring into action, Durmatl chases after them, pieces of egg flying as he jumps around to catch up. His attention momentarily falls on Zanryn strapping on the shield as he runs, and is quick to copy the movement.
Lynn-Marie Verine-Wintercleaver, Human Bloodhunter - Adventures in Esyldien
Finan Caible, Human Bard - Joys of Balance
Yroc Grumbak, Orc Fighlock - Pizazz's ToA
Arell Peroan, Half-Elf Warlonk - Scattered Gods
ESC! | 10|33|5~
Zanryn grabs Zydalia by the arm, "Wait!" he implores. "Let's not be too hasty. At least, not too hasty towards whatever that was."
"I'm sure the town guard will have it in hand anyway", he adds unconvincingly.
AS you push through the crowd you see the message board of the town has a menacing note pinned to it.
Her body will be used then dumped by the fools.
THe captain of the guard is asking for quiet as people start to whisper that the local hoodlums kidnapped the life bringer to be.
Roll me perceptions.
Mechanics:
Perception: 18
Lynn-Marie Verine-Wintercleaver, Human Bloodhunter - Adventures in Esyldien
Finan Caible, Human Bard - Joys of Balance
Yroc Grumbak, Orc Fighlock - Pizazz's ToA
Arell Peroan, Half-Elf Warlonk - Scattered Gods
ESC! | 10|33|5~
Mechanics:
Perception: 20
Zydalia eyes Zanryn as she pulls her arm free. "I doubt that very much," she grimaces, her innate mistrust of the law guiding her thinking. She tries to look closer at the scene.
Perception: 21
Her simmering anger prevents her from thinking straight or really looking properly, and she looks around the area frantically, scanning the crowd.
Zydalia Quexx - Level 2 - Tiefling/Barbarian
Fouder Amberbreaker - Level 4 - Mountain Dwarf/Tempest Cleric
DM - The Children of Hadal
Upon waking (a bit later than the others) Bethozus quickly goes out to the town square, as they notice a large group of people gathering around.