Aazel's mind replays memories over and over; the vicious bandit from the cave entrance with her ominous words, the foul magics that made undead constructs and the almost suffocating shadows from the temple underneath Melyne's house that was used for malicious intent. From what you understand these three instances do not intrinsically work together; something is weaving unholy arcane magics with ancient and, most probably forbidden, cult practice. What is seemingly more horrifying, you and your friends have just unknowingly unearthed this . By fate, or by chance, would depend on the individual, but you and your comrades have begun walking down this path... You wonder if you truly prepared to reach the destination?
Wulcrath leaves Bart to tend to Khazan and takes a seat near Daffafle, holding in an exhausted sigh as he straightens himself up and scans the room, not knowing quite what to say, if anything.
“Something about this whole things seems...wrong. Not the necromancy, that can be explained at least. That is evil, not...wrong. These things don’t naturally happen together. Someone is deliberately creating them. I wonder if they are generally protecting something, or if we have disturbed them and we are the targets.”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Bart frowns thoughtfully at Aazel’s comments. “What do you suppose we do to remedy that? It does seem like we stumbled on something... tangled. The only thing I can come up with is to keep pulling string til it unravels.”
Bart is currently just proceeding to sew up Khaz’s cuts. Maybe assume they dipped a rag in a rain barrel to apply the cool cloth to the swollen places of his face.
“Agreed; the only way forward is further in,” Daffafle nods. “It does appear we’ve found ourselves in a strange cosmic plot...but perhaps we’ve just been oblivious to this darkness, and it has grown unchecked all these years.”
While Bart patches him up, Khazan grumbles . If one of his hold were doing the patching he would be already ready to fight again! Bart is soaking the rag too much! The stitching is too fast this time and its taking too long for that other wound! Why his eyes won't stop making the runes blink as if they are blinking! And where is his ale?!
Despite the insistent shifting and twitching from the dwarf and the odd but sharp static shocks Khazan's strange markings given to the half-elf, the stitching is of a remarkable quality. There will not be any scarring, even though it would have made fine stories or effective warnings to those looking for a challenge.
Wulcrath jolts a bit in his seat adjusting himself and straightening up, tiredly turning to Daffafle.
"Hmm? Oh me? I'm alright..."
His eyes fall to the floor for a moment before he looks back up at her. "But forget about me.. What about the stuff we all did?' A small grin spreading across his face. "Some day eh?" What a ride. The Undead, Visits to Noble's homes, all in the span of a day."
"Can't say I've ever done anything quite like this..."
His smile fades as he shifts in his armor taking a breath as he settles into his seat a bit.
"More currently pressing though, what about Khazan? What do you think that fight was about?"
“I wasn’t here when it started,” Daffafle shrugs, but strokes her chin. “Hopefully just good natured brawling...that’s what it appeared to be, at least. I’m more concerned that his tattoos are still glowing...”
Daffafle backs up with a slight laugh, realizing she'll learn nothing from the runes. "You look much better now that Bart stitched you up, but I was trying to examine the runes you insist aren't there."
Trying to stifle a sudden yawn, the halfling adds. "I'm retiring to my quarters for the night, if anyone needs me. See you all in the morning!"
Daffafle leaves the common room, heading to the room she and Bart share. She plans to take a bath, get into a fresh change of clothes, then sleep for the night, anticipating her meeting with the Raven Queen with some anxiety.
Wulcrath slumps down in his chair a bit more, closing his eyes and tapping his knuckles on the counter while putting a hand under his head as he falls back into a contemplative silence.
Bart gets up. “Don’t pull out your stitches, and try to block things with your face less.”
Bart then heads back to the room with Daff and heads to bed. He’ll contemplate the day, and the slew of life changes a bit before finally falling asleep.
Despite the action-packed day, the team fall off to sleep at a reasonably time and earn a well-deserved rest, except maybe Wulcrathto begin with as Khazan's blinking glow of tattoos is only amplified in a dark room... However, they turn out to be quite calming to the consistent questions of the mind and he is soon eased to sleep.
Khazan, the Stormborn!
Clang! Clang! A crackle of lightning sends the clouds aglow... Clang! Clang! The thunderous sound of the divine tending to his forge...
Lightening strikes, hammer strikes. A single spark doesn't fade from the forge; it falls. Lightening descends, as does the spark. Following the ever-branching energy from the skies above the mountains.
Thump! Thump! The spark tumbles through stone. Thump! Thump! The sound of a beating dwarven boy's sleeping heart.
The Queen's Council
Daffafle awakens once more at the cane entrance in her blood soaked clothes with black feathers falling endlessly on the colourless, timeless scene. Lucky flies from her and lands on the Queen's hand; a ring upon her hand with a round gemstone of endless black...
I assume you have come to a decision? The Queen gently strokes her servant, Lucky eyes narrow in joy.
Daffafle merely thinks answer of searching for the soul, but the Queen nods with understanding.
Commendable effort. The one who attempts to avoid me will know futile his effort is.
One more thing. I will have to keep my eye on this place. Pick someone - I will have... one of mine rest upon their shoulders, so I may the plane with precision and clarity after witnessing what has taken place there.
✨You all level up to Level 3!✨
*****************************************
The morning holds a blanket of cloud and a spattering of rain after a revitalising night's sleep. Bart, if you decide wake up first, you find Luckyupon Daffaflechest staring at her she sleeps, he regards you for a moment before turning back with large black feathers dotted over her bed.
A sense of direction is behind the new day, and you all feel you are determined to get to the next step...
“Yeah, but I only sew half of each wound.” Bart quips back.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Aazel's mind replays memories over and over; the vicious bandit from the cave entrance with her ominous words, the foul magics that made undead constructs and the almost suffocating shadows from the temple underneath Melyne's house that was used for malicious intent. From what you understand these three instances do not intrinsically work together; something is weaving unholy arcane magics with ancient and, most probably forbidden, cult practice. What is seemingly more horrifying, you and your friends have just unknowingly unearthed this . By fate, or by chance, would depend on the individual, but you and your comrades have begun walking down this path... You wonder if you truly prepared to reach the destination?
Wulcrath leaves Bart to tend to Khazan and takes a seat near Daffafle, holding in an exhausted sigh as he straightens himself up and scans the room, not knowing quite what to say, if anything.
“Something about this whole things seems...wrong. Not the necromancy, that can be explained at least. That is evil, not...wrong. These things don’t naturally happen together. Someone is deliberately creating them. I wonder if they are generally protecting something, or if we have disturbed them and we are the targets.”
((Who is Aazel saying this to? And how is he saying it? You know me, I like a bit of description! 😁))
Bart frowns thoughtfully at Aazel’s comments. “What do you suppose we do to remedy that? It does seem like we stumbled on something... tangled. The only thing I can come up with is to keep pulling string til it unravels.”
Bart is currently just proceeding to sew up Khaz’s cuts. Maybe assume they dipped a rag in a rain barrel to apply the cool cloth to the swollen places of his face.
medicine 7
Paladin - warforged - orange
“Agreed; the only way forward is further in,” Daffafle nods. “It does appear we’ve found ourselves in a strange cosmic plot...but perhaps we’ve just been oblivious to this darkness, and it has grown unchecked all these years.”
While Bart patches him up, Khazan grumbles .
If one of his hold were doing the patching he would be already ready to fight again! Bart is soaking the rag too much! The stitching is too fast this time and its taking too long for that other wound!
Why his eyes won't stop making the runes blink as if they are blinking! And where is his ale?!
Despite the insistent shifting and twitching from the dwarf and the odd but sharp static shocks Khazan's strange markings given to the half-elf, the stitching is of a remarkable quality. There will not be any scarring, even though it would have made fine stories or effective warnings to those looking for a challenge.
“How are you holding up?” Daffafle turns towards Wulcrath, looking over the dragonborn.
Wulcrath jolts a bit in his seat adjusting himself and straightening up, tiredly turning to Daffafle.
"Hmm? Oh me? I'm alright..."
His eyes fall to the floor for a moment before he looks back up at her. "But forget about me.. What about the stuff we all did?' A small grin spreading across his face. "Some day eh?" What a ride. The Undead, Visits to Noble's homes, all in the span of a day."
"Can't say I've ever done anything quite like this..."
His smile fades as he shifts in his armor taking a breath as he settles into his seat a bit.
"More currently pressing though, what about Khazan? What do you think that fight was about?"
“I wasn’t here when it started,” Daffafle shrugs, but strokes her chin. “Hopefully just good natured brawling...that’s what it appeared to be, at least. I’m more concerned that his tattoos are still glowing...”
Wulcrath's face scrunches up a bit.
"Yeah fair point..." He doesn't seem to want to talk about it though..."
The warlock walks up behind the dwarf, studying the glowing symbols to determine what they are, and what causes their illumination.
arcana: 13
"Ye've a thing for dwarves, lass?"
Khazan gets on his feet, stretches and poses.
"Look all ye want."
Daffafle backs up with a slight laugh, realizing she'll learn nothing from the runes. "You look much better now that Bart stitched you up, but I was trying to examine the runes you insist aren't there."
Trying to stifle a sudden yawn, the halfling adds. "I'm retiring to my quarters for the night, if anyone needs me. See you all in the morning!"
Daffafle leaves the common room, heading to the room she and Bart share. She plans to take a bath, get into a fresh change of clothes, then sleep for the night, anticipating her meeting with the Raven Queen with some anxiety.
Wulcrath slumps down in his chair a bit more, closing his eyes and tapping his knuckles on the counter while putting a hand under his head as he falls back into a contemplative silence.
("What to do... What to do...")
Bart gets up. “Don’t pull out your stitches, and try to block things with your face less.”
Bart then heads back to the room with Daff and heads to bed. He’ll contemplate the day, and the slew of life changes a bit before finally falling asleep.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Wulcrath shrugs as he stands up from his seat, walking to his room and changing out of his armor, he slides into bed and tries to get some sleep.
Despite the action-packed day, the team fall off to sleep at a reasonably time and earn a well-deserved rest, except maybe Wulcrath to begin with as Khazan's blinking glow of tattoos is only amplified in a dark room... However, they turn out to be quite calming to the consistent questions of the mind and he is soon eased to sleep.
Khazan, the Stormborn!
Clang! Clang! A crackle of lightning sends the clouds aglow...
Clang! Clang! The thunderous sound of the divine tending to his forge...
Lightening strikes, hammer strikes. A single spark doesn't fade from the forge; it falls.
Lightening descends, as does the spark. Following the ever-branching energy from the skies above the mountains.
Thump! Thump! The spark tumbles through stone.
Thump! Thump! The sound of a beating dwarven boy's sleeping heart.
The Queen's Council
Daffafle awakens once more at the cane entrance in her blood soaked clothes with black feathers falling endlessly on the colourless, timeless scene. Lucky flies from her and lands on the Queen's hand; a ring upon her hand with a round gemstone of endless black...
I assume you have come to a decision? The Queen gently strokes her servant, Lucky eyes narrow in joy.
Daffafle merely thinks answer of searching for the soul, but the Queen nods with understanding.
Commendable effort. The one who attempts to avoid me will know futile his effort is.
One more thing. I will have to keep my eye on this place. Pick someone - I will have... one of mine rest upon their shoulders, so I may the plane with precision and clarity after witnessing what has taken place there.
✨You all level up to Level 3! ✨
*****************************************
The morning holds a blanket of cloud and a spattering of rain after a revitalising night's sleep. Bart, if you decide wake up first, you find Lucky upon Daffafle chest staring at her she sleeps, he regards you for a moment before turning back with large black feathers dotted over her bed.
A sense of direction is behind the new day, and you all feel you are determined to get to the next step...