Ketra seems to flinch at Cragworm's excitement about the whip, to the point that she instinctively steps away, a flash of something on her face. Her eyes graze over her scars. "I-I don't think whips and I get along well. I remember...that sound...and running. There was a woman, but not a woman. And before..." She trails off. Instead, she runs her fingers over the daggers and picks up them up, flipping one casually, then taking the other rapier. "Small blades for small hands, Cragworm. I agree." She puts a hand on the leather and raises an eyebrow. "If you don't mind...it's quieter, like me."
She glances toward the door. "Given the noise, we may not have much time. I suggest we take the packs and anything else of value and worry about the contents later. I am rather curious about those vials." She also slides the shortbow over her shoulder and feels comforted. Weapons and shadows meant protection from whatever caused the keening to stop.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What lies between - Ketraezz'nyl (Half-Drow Assassin)
Graves rifles through the piles with some sort of practiced efficiency. "Rusted...broken...split...rags..."He mutters near continuously in instant assessment of items. When he finds the bags he eyeballs the calligraphy pens and papers for a long moment then decides to combine the contents of the two bags and throw it under his arm. The empty bag is tossed into the 'usable' pile for the others. When he comes upon the silvered weapon he gives it an appraising heft then sets it gingerly to the side. "I don't think I can swing that thing but it is the best quality weapon in the lot. One of you figure out how to use it."It wasn't so much a demand as a statement of survival.
As Drav's eyes lock on to some crusty leather armor, he himself feels the familiar crispness of a tome. Shifting some old musty bedrolls to the side he sees it in full. It's weight feels good in his hands though a little off. By sheer instinct alone he leafs it open and scans the first few pages. His mind works quickly to etch the information into permanency. It isn't...perfect though. As he stuffs the book into his newly acquired bag his actions slow to a crawl. His eyes half roll back in his head as he listens. Almost like a man possessed he holds his empty hand forward, his fingers curled slightly as if cradling the spine of an open book. He speaks one word to himself,
Drav's fingers have just brushed the silvered sword when the armor beckons. In a daze, Drav mutters "I am already pledged to Kylixx. What more can you give me?" Sword dangling lightly in Drav's grasp, he gingerly sets a palm on the chest piece.
((Sorry for the long delay on getting this next post done. Things seemed to have slowed down once more, so oughta get back into a workable schedule.Thanks for the patience!))
Augustus
The odd tingling that started to well up in the back of your head was oddly pleasant, almost pleasurable - a welcome reprieve from the constant ache of sore muscles that had not been used in a long time, and the constant, gnawing hunger in your stomach. It was like...something else briefly stepped into your body and took it's pains for their own, and yet you mostly retained control of it...save for the hand you stretched forwards.
"He wishes our help."
"It trusts."
"It does."
"It shall have help."
The dual male and female voice in your head seem to whisper back and forth amongst themselves, and yet you FEEL as though they are always addressing you. The odd tingle in the back of your head continues to grow and you absently shift the aspiring mage's book to your open hand.
"....there is much damage here. Places locked. Secrets."
"Ah...this is what we are looking for."
A brief image of your old spellbook flashes through your mind, and with it a...journal you'd once kept? You DID keep one of those, right? Your head suddenly feels foggy, as if you'd had too much to drink, and you find yourself unable to recall the minute details of either of the books...at least until that 'tingle' in the back of your head reaches a crescendo.
"Much, much damage...hard to restore. Cannot yet..."
"...Will bring book, though..."
The tingle in your head works it's way down your neck, through your shoulders, and down your outwards stretched arm to the book held in it. A brief crackle of energy - a 'Zzzzt!' that sounds like an overly loud discharge of static electricity - and the book begins to reshape itself in your hand, the cover shifting, pages being plucked out of nothingness to fill it.
Even without looking at it, it seems familiar to you. The spine feels RIGHT, the cover feels RIGHT. Your once-blurred vision begins to return to normal, and the 'tingle' in the back of your head vanishes, the voices fading away as if exhausted.
"...Much effort. Link is...tentative."
"...rest. We shall return soon...."
Just like that, the presence is gone, and you find yourself holding your old book. It is different, now, than you remember it - your journal and mage's book seem to have been merged together, with the former half dedicated to spells, and the latter half dedicated to your writings. A brief look through it reveals pages upon pages of words in your own hand, and yet you understand none of them, the text every bit as foreign as the place you find yourself in.
((You have recovered your spellbook and journal!))
Drav
"It is I who drew Kylixx's gaze back to you. It is I who gives you another chance. It is I who keeps your...desires in check. I will give nothing you've not earned. A simple totem? You've earned."You feel an itching on the backside of your neck, a cold and clammy feeling like skeletal fingers drawing their upwards along your spine"...I know you think there is a cost...but for this? There is none. Call it a...gift of trust. We are, after all, in this together..."
The feeling vanishes, and the voice in your head grows silent, though you still find yourself staring at the old leather armor. You do not feel compelled to give in and accept the offer, and yet your totem would go a long way to ensuring you and your group remained as protected as possible. Of course, you could reject the offer in it's entirety and likely find some bone in this place SOMEWHERE to fashion your own totem from...though who knows how long that would be.
Cragworm and Ketra
You both notice Drav and Augustus sort of freezing up, their entire bodies growing still save for the movement of their lips and the faint shifting of their hands. It was Augustus who seemed to 'come to' again first, and it's with the soft crackle of something electric, and an exceedingly faint swirl of dust that kicks up around him, only to settle back to the floor as quickly as it had started.
Your attention is once more drawn to the door a ways to the north, where another tiny crackle of glass could be heard...and something else. The straining of leather straps and the soft creaking of metal buckles under extreme pressure.
Cragworm positions in the hall in the direction of the noise, the bone whip hanging from his hands. His posture communicates an intent to block the entire hall no matter what comes. "Cragworm kill evil monster. Cragworm know what good, what evil. Cragworm kill monster! CRAGWORM KILL MONSTER!!!" He shrieks, his voice a mix of mania and fear.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
PbP Lost Mines of Phandelver -Squelch (Kenku Grave Cleric)
What Lies Between - Cragworm (Goblin Oathbreaker Paladin)
Embers in the Dark - Martin "Uncle" Flintmore (Human Rogue)
Adventures in Esyldien - Khorzik Fume (Hobgoblin Transmuter) - retired
A Machine's Ambition- Canavar (Shifter Zealot Barbarian) - retired
What Lurks Below - Urmdir Volsung (Human Fighter) - retired
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Ketra seemed half a moment away from slapping Graves or Drav, unsettled by their sudden dissociation, but the noises outside have a greater pull. If they will be useful, they will. If not, well, someone will have to help Cragworm with the situation in the hall. "We have a problem," she says in their direction as a warning, immediately moving toward the door. She flips a dagger in her hand again, trying to get a sense of its weight, and mutters to herself. "Shadows. You need shadows. And an ally." She steps out in the hallway and moves about 10 feet to the south of the goblin and hisses: "Cragworm--keep it busy. And stay calm or we'll just attract more attention. We can handle this." She slides back into the darkness of hallway and waits, violet eyes trained to the north, dagger in one hand, rapier in the other.
Drav sets down the sword and begins equipping the armor with furious speed. Retrieving the sword, he breathes deep and searches within for a reservoir of power. His mind reaches out into the hallway, probing for aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, or undead. Detect Evil and Good
Graves flips quickly through the spellbook, a small smile creasing his lips. The sounds approaching break his attention and cause him to look up as if suddenly aware of reality again. He mutters a few words and places the palm of his hand on the cover of the book. Blueish silver light spreads from his hand to the rest of his form giving him a light sheen of translucent energy. After a moment the light fades. For a moment looked like he might be covered in some sort of arcane armor. A Mage Armor if you will.
"Wait for it to pass..." The detective makes a few gestures and points his open palm at the door way. Illusory stone and mortar fill the space as if the door to the room was never there. The party being able to see the actual ajar door is able to discern the fallacy and can partially see through Graves' minor illusion. He smiles at himself and gives the spellbook an appreciative pat.
Ketra seems to flinch at Cragworm's excitement about the whip, to the point that she instinctively steps away, a flash of something on her face. Her eyes graze over her scars. "I-I don't think whips and I get along well. I remember...that sound...and running. There was a woman, but not a woman. And before..." She trails off. Instead, she runs her fingers over the daggers and picks up them up, flipping one casually, then taking the other rapier. "Small blades for small hands, Cragworm. I agree." She puts a hand on the leather and raises an eyebrow. "If you don't mind...it's quieter, like me."
She glances toward the door. "Given the noise, we may not have much time. I suggest we take the packs and anything else of value and worry about the contents later. I am rather curious about those vials." She also slides the shortbow over her shoulder and feels comforted. Weapons and shadows meant protection from whatever caused the keening to stop.
What lies between - Ketraezz'nyl (Half-Drow Assassin)
Graves rifles through the piles with some sort of practiced efficiency. "Rusted...broken...split...rags..." He mutters near continuously in instant assessment of items. When he finds the bags he eyeballs the calligraphy pens and papers for a long moment then decides to combine the contents of the two bags and throw it under his arm. The empty bag is tossed into the 'usable' pile for the others. When he comes upon the silvered weapon he gives it an appraising heft then sets it gingerly to the side. "I don't think I can swing that thing but it is the best quality weapon in the lot. One of you figure out how to use it." It wasn't so much a demand as a statement of survival.
As Drav's eyes lock on to some crusty leather armor, he himself feels the familiar crispness of a tome. Shifting some old musty bedrolls to the side he sees it in full. It's weight feels good in his hands though a little off. By sheer instinct alone he leafs it open and scans the first few pages. His mind works quickly to etch the information into permanency. It isn't...perfect though. As he stuffs the book into his newly acquired bag his actions slow to a crawl. His eyes half roll back in his head as he listens. Almost like a man possessed he holds his empty hand forward, his fingers curled slightly as if cradling the spine of an open book. He speaks one word to himself,
"Book..."
Drav's fingers have just brushed the silvered sword when the armor beckons. In a daze, Drav mutters "I am already pledged to Kylixx. What more can you give me?" Sword dangling lightly in Drav's grasp, he gingerly sets a palm on the chest piece.
Cragworm positions in the hall in the direction of the noise, the bone whip hanging from his hands. His posture communicates an intent to block the entire hall no matter what comes. "Cragworm kill evil monster. Cragworm know what good, what evil. Cragworm kill monster! CRAGWORM KILL MONSTER!!!" He shrieks, his voice a mix of mania and fear.
Ketra seemed half a moment away from slapping Graves or Drav, unsettled by their sudden dissociation, but the noises outside have a greater pull. If they will be useful, they will. If not, well, someone will have to help Cragworm with the situation in the hall. "We have a problem," she says in their direction as a warning, immediately moving toward the door. She flips a dagger in her hand again, trying to get a sense of its weight, and mutters to herself. "Shadows. You need shadows. And an ally." She steps out in the hallway and moves about 10 feet to the south of the goblin and hisses: "Cragworm--keep it busy. And stay calm or we'll just attract more attention. We can handle this." She slides back into the darkness of hallway and waits, violet eyes trained to the north, dagger in one hand, rapier in the other.
Stealth19
What lies between - Ketraezz'nyl (Half-Drow Assassin)
Drav sets down the sword and begins equipping the armor with furious speed. Retrieving the sword, he breathes deep and searches within for a reservoir of power. His mind reaches out into the hallway, probing for aberrations, celestials, elementals, fey, fiends, or undead. Detect Evil and Good
Graves flips quickly through the spellbook, a small smile creasing his lips. The sounds approaching break his attention and cause him to look up as if suddenly aware of reality again. He mutters a few words and places the palm of his hand on the cover of the book. Blueish silver light spreads from his hand to the rest of his form giving him a light sheen of translucent energy. After a moment the light fades. For a moment looked like he might be covered in some sort of arcane armor. A Mage Armor if you will.
"Wait for it to pass..." The detective makes a few gestures and points his open palm at the door way. Illusory stone and mortar fill the space as if the door to the room was never there. The party being able to see the actual ajar door is able to discern the fallacy and can partially see through Graves' minor illusion. He smiles at himself and gives the spellbook an appreciative pat.