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Post by keamazin on Feb 5, 2015 14:44:29 GMT
Keama drops out of the saddle, landing in a dusty heap, then picks himself up, leaving behind his last shred of dignity after being bounced around on the horse's saddle all day.
He immediately goes on the alert, looking about himself confused.
I feel like someone I know just died...
He wrenches out his crossbow.
So why do I feel bad about that?
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saraquiel
New Member
slowly plotting an invasion :)
Posts: 9
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Post by saraquiel on Feb 6, 2015 18:17:09 GMT
Saraquiel had stayed at the back of the group as much a rear guard. Yet for the truth that Aasimars were rarely troubled by the cold, she shivered when they stopped. A loss and sadness rose in her heart. She stared uncomprehending at the tribesman as he prattled of some house, her grief as enigmatic as a black knight at a joust, and made all else unworthy to the worry of who she loved had died, and when. Then the presumptuous gnome spoke of his own such fears. Slowly her eyes went discus wide, and then rapier thin, body rigid. Unceremoniously she dismounted. “Ava. Allamir. Consider the steeds for cover.” The grey mount was led over to the group by the rein and left nearby the armed gnome. She moved away from the group, exposing herself as one from the many. Better an attack fall on her than a teen, a minstrel, or a frail gnome. She drew her weapon and scanned the horizon as a sentinel at the edge of an army camp. Spot/Listen check,
Darkvision 60 feet. Taken 10 on Spot and Listen. Result for both: 13.
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Post by Gilgamesh on Feb 6, 2015 20:58:31 GMT
Saraquiel's eyes scanned the desert, and she saw nothing for a long time. The dunes stretched far out, farther than the horizon, and it occurred to her that there was not a sound in the whole of the desert. Suddenly, a slow footfall echoed through the silence, growing louder and louder. The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once, reverberating off the great hills of sand. Perhaps it was just a trick of the dim light, but the shadows seemed to warp and morph, sometimes seeming to form an almost humanoid shape before collapsing into nothingness again. All through this the feeling of loss and mourning had grown, now becoming almost overpowering. At long last, the footfalls stopped, and a gentle dusty breeze blew past Saraquiel. In it's passing, the aasimar heard for a moment a faint and forlorn voice whispering to her, as if from a long, long way away.
"Some things were never meant to be found. Spare yourselves from my fate."
And just as soon as they started, the footfalls disappeared. The feelings of despair vanished just as quickly, leaving its victims with nothing but a strange sense of emptiness.
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saraquiel
New Member
slowly plotting an invasion :)
Posts: 9
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Post by saraquiel on Feb 7, 2015 2:01:40 GMT
The broadsword was replaced wordlessly, and Saraquiel moved back to the group with the sway of one overfond of wine. She ignored the other four and avoided all eye contact. No words of comfort were offered to those she knew had suffered the same, just then, for she had none. Taking off her right gauntlet, retrieving the reins of her grey mount with her left, she gently lay an exposed hand flat against the sweat of its silvery mane. The horse shuddered. She nodded knowingly. For a time, she shushed and stroked his neck soothingly, though she couldn't guess of the two of them who needed comfort more. Finally, she turned to the others with a renewed calm.
“That was no attack.”
Explaining what she experienced, from the raw silence and footsteps to shadow puppets and whispers, Saraquiel offered all except her opinion. She dropped one gauntlet on the sand and started removing the other, dropping that beside it and immediately set to her vambraces, all with a methodical ease.
“What do you all make of this?”
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 7, 2015 15:56:51 GMT
An ill omen if ever I've seen one, or perhaps someone pretending to be one. It hardly matters though, we are oath-bound to see this quest of ours to the end. Those who hear our Saga will judge whether we did right or wrong by it.
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Ava
New Member
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Post by Ava on Feb 7, 2015 21:33:17 GMT
Ava bites her lip wordlessly, trying not to express her displeasure about being left behind. She snorts as Saraquiel begins her description, clearly unimpressed. "If whatever it is that wants us to turn back can't be bothered to come tell us in person, well..." She grasps the metal orb hanging around her neck, and gently disengages it from the simple, leather rope that it's attached to. "Clearly, it's no threat to us."
She closes her eyes, and intensely focuses on the orb, which expands into her Device with a moment's thought. Despite the massive proportions of the maul that just apparently appeared out of thin air, the diminutive adventurer seems to hold it with no more effort than one might put in to holding a simple kitchen knife. She undoes the clasp on her bright red cloak, before tossing it on the sands and speaking a command word. The cape seems to almost... unfold itself, propping itself up in the form of a simple tent, perfectly sized for one person. Ava, for the first time revealing her distinctive Costume, seems to suddenly remember the existence of her companions. "Well? Aren't we setting up camp?"
Plopping down in a rather undignified fashion, she immediately tunes out the rest of her companions again, and begins tinkering with the dull gray maul. Over the course of the next ten minutes, the hammer seems to be infused with Radiant energy, the previously invisible symbols on its side overflowing with light.
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saraquiel
New Member
slowly plotting an invasion :)
Posts: 9
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Post by saraquiel on Feb 8, 2015 16:35:43 GMT
Saraquiel nodded while the human tribesman spoke, seemingly impressed. With her vambraces off, Ava began speaking, while fingers continued at her breast plate. Her method in removing the metal slowed when the girl shed not one tear, nor snivel, nor squeak over what had just happened. But it was only when the oversized maul manifested did the aasimar outright pause. When it came to her expectations, the world had recently become especially disobedient. She slowly resumed her effort to remove armour.
“I was near certain this would amount to myth.” She admitted. “That we would make our finest effort only to backtrack and tell a dying man his last hope was delusion. But now, I feel you have the truth of it, Ava. No threat. Closer a warning. That man may well be trapped, with all that grief, with all that loss. He has no love for us to suffer the same.”
Devoid of armour, Saraquiel was down to white tights and matching gambeson, an earth-bound angel tucked in an artificial cloud. She sighed. “This may not be my realm, but I still decree it cruelty. Few deserve such torture. Siamorphe willing, if that garden has become a guardhouse, I will deliver that man liberty.”
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Post by keamazin on Feb 8, 2015 19:16:03 GMT
Keama looks around and snorts.
I'm with the others, this is only a warning, if they had it in their power to do anything more, they would have, this is simply insentive to continue on.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 9, 2015 19:49:56 GMT
Leave it be. Men of honor do not seek immortality. After all, no one likes to hear a Saga that drags on beyond its reasonable end.
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Post by keamazin on Feb 10, 2015 0:08:09 GMT
Keama simply smiles evilly at the big man.
Glad we're on the same page.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2015 2:30:28 GMT
Seig raises an eyebrow at the gnome's turn of phrase.
I think the sun has addled your brain, little gnome. There is only sand as far as the eye can see, there are no pages to be found here.
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saraquiel
New Member
slowly plotting an invasion :)
Posts: 9
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Post by saraquiel on Feb 10, 2015 20:52:13 GMT
“Know what you ask, warrior. That I ignore one that would warn me – warn us – of danger and misery, at the cost he be forsaken to both. That is a man of honour, Siegbeort. Better aided than abandoned.”
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2015 0:28:13 GMT
I do not ASK anything southlander. I simply point out the obvious, that there is no point worrying about whomever tried to contact us. We are traveling towards him heedless of his warning, If he possesses the low cunning necessary to work the magics we just saw, and if he is lucky, he will be waiting for us at the Garden. And if you and the rest earn my respect enough for me to call you Companions, then know that I will cast him deeper into the Abyss before he causes any permanent harm to come to you. THAT is the Honor of the Aethlings.
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Post by keamazin on Feb 11, 2015 23:31:03 GMT
Keama considers the clash of personalities in front of him. Then turns to the big man.
Don't you worry buddy, I'll be right behind you.
He says, chewing down a smirk.
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Post by Gilgamesh on Feb 12, 2015 1:54:44 GMT
Sleep came slowly, for those it came for at all. The tension in the party was already evident after only a day. In the morning, belongings were packed up and horses fed, before being mounted and ridden the few hours that encompassed the second half of the journey. It was midafternoon when the colorful group of heroes and mercenaries arrived in the township of Uruc. Though you had arrived at the busiest time of the day, when the fishermen were out selling the days catch in the streets, the village was still relatively quiet and desolate. Apart from the distant roaring of the river, and the occasional vendor marketing his wares, the place was eerily silent. In the distance, on the other side of the broad river, was a range of massive smoking mountains. The smell of sulfur hung loosely in the air. And somewhere, hiding in that dusty old town, was Beler Madrell. The only question was where. Feel free to make any knowledge or other checks you might want to make. Also feel free to split up if need be.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 13, 2015 1:11:22 GMT
The very image of barbarian splendor in his full gear, bear helm, claws and all, Sieg rides along the right side and slightly behind whomever leads the formation. As the Company Reaches the gates he hails one of the guards, neither breaking formation nor dismounting from his steed.
Hail and well met Guardsman, I am Siegbeort Gormrsson, vanquisher of Ohrgazz, who was Warchief of the Broken Hand Orcs. he states in a loud and brazen manner, I have traveled long and far, so I find myself in great need of a hot meal and strong drink. Where can I find these things? Pausing for a second, Sieg adds as an afterthought, Also, I require a purveyor of fine weapons. My last dagger broke as I was using it to separate the head of Ohrgazz from his shoulders for a trophy.
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Post by keamazin on Feb 13, 2015 22:09:27 GMT
The only sound to accompany Keama's shock at what he has just seen is the sound of his palm smacking into his face. He looks around takes the rest of his travelling companions into account, then leans over to Ava and murmers;
I'm going to leave you with this chimp's tea party of a search mission and go see what I can find. I shouldn't doubt it will be difficult to keep track of you. Do me the small favour of playing dumb.
Then he hops of his horse, this time with slightly less embarrassment, and wanders of down the nearest alley.
Thanks for the company folks. Made the trip interesting enough, I suppose. He calls, over his shoulder.
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Post by Gilgamesh on Feb 21, 2015 2:05:28 GMT
As Keama scurried off into the allleys of Uruc, making himself right at home, the guardsman unlucky enough to be targeted by Siegbeort's questioning looked on in shock at the motley crew before him. "Uh, well, uh. There's an inn over in the south side of town, by the river." He said, trying to appear in charge, "And I think a few minutes walk from there is the old blacksmith's." Keama can roll Gather Information, Search, etc, if he wants.
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Post by keamazin on Feb 21, 2015 21:39:30 GMT
Keama works his way through the dingy allies and backstreets, looking for anything amiss, secret signs, anything that might be a symbol showing an attachment to a secret religion. After he scopes the place out as fully as he can, he goes hunting for as dingy looking a bar as he can. The he goes in and slaps a few coins down on the bar. What's a gnome gotta do to get out of town quick around here?Rolls!
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