Terror in the dark Creeping dread, demons walking Morning dawns at last
It certainly wasn't any of his business, no, not his business at all. He was simply a humble thorn, passing through the glade when the big creatures arrived. One of them certainly did NOT belong in the Wild. She'd see. It was inevitable. The other one... Well, not so big as all that, but still. Strange to bear manufactured weapons. And he smelled of fear. No, not fear, terror. Mind-numbing, overpowering terror. Oh, light save, the pain, the fear, the abject despair! The little thorn could not but endure the terrible onslaught of emotion from the other fey. Sunlight, what had caused that agony? Was the grig unseelie? Even so, why despair? The thorn curled in on himself, shuddering under the overpowering oppression of the grig's madness... was it madness? Oh, sun and moon, it was madness! Not the casual chaos of the fey who lost themselves in the wilds. This was something worse, something darker, something... fresh. Recently woken. And ancient. Ah, Titania, what had happened to the poor trembling hopper? Primrose the thorn longed to console him, to slay him, to flee, to stand firm, to be his light in the darkness... He settled for pulling a large leaf over his head and huddling down outside of eye and earshot from the little creature. While half his mind was tied to the madness of the trembling grig, the other half prayed, prayed to Oberon to overlook them, prayed to Titania to soothe them, prayed to Puck to steal this terror. Would it work? Could it work? Oh, how the night stretched on before him. How he longed for his pouch of flint to ring himself about, for mistletoe to ward against the leanan sidhe sure to be drawn to the aegis of emotion, even for a length of ragwort to hang about his neck and stuff into his ears. Lacking any means of protection, the diminutive thorn began to sing. It wasn't a song of warding, or a song of soothing... but a song that smoothed... it spread the emotion out, diluting it, sending it onto the winds, possibly drawing the wild hunt, but clouding their eyes to the exact location. It might be enough.
The wind rose slightly, a thin moaning through the trees, caressing Kith, attenuating his pain even while dulling it. Lig... no... Oh, Grazzt was HERE! This was not his plane, this was not his place, how to escape, how to flee, how to never again be imprisoned, captured... All his nightmares... again... why again? Kith wept himself to sleep over several hours, waking to the sun in his face.
It was a couple days, then, before the airship... and the return to those foolish wretches who accepted, who dined with Grazzt. No. No trust. Only Simone had fled, which was evidence of her wisdom. He owed her a debt. And then... Oh, Li... no. The greasy, seductive tendrils of magic crept in, invading, driving aside conscious will... Kith's mind screamed at his body. No, no, no, no, no, not toward him, no... wrong direction... Oh, Light, oh Light, save, Light, light save, Titania, Oberon, Puck, MELORA!
*Shift*
The empire? This was new. Why was he in the middle of an imperial battle? Oh. Of course. The fools had released the demons, had defiled and desecrated their nexuses, had made a blasphemy of their ley lines. No wonder the monsters were out. Well, that was a simple decision. Slay the demon, slit it's throat, move to the next one, a sword through the brain pan, then hamstringing this one and leaving it to suffer... the blood coated him from head to foot when finally the battle wound down. He had moved like death itself through the battle, finding a curious rhythm and pattern to match the Vanquisher, that incomparable warrior. What a master of the art. Kith resolved to learn more of the creature, but first, to deal with this damnable empire, and its idiocy. Didn't they see the foe at their borders? The one that ALREADY ATTACKED? How could they ignore Grazzt, when all the prophecies spoke of an atrocity? How could they be so foolish? Where was their vaunted strength?
"... then shall the fields be awash in blood, foes turning to face ancient evil, rivals to slay the filth. The sky shall open, and the earth groan in pain, as from the Abyss shall pour the judgement of an age. Durus shall be stung, and Delphia shall burn with poison. No land shall be safe from the ravage, and mother shall weep for her child, that he should see such defilement in his time. Where is hope, o Durus? Where is strength, Delphia? Find them, lest you be swept from the land, your legacy but a fading memory in the darkness." --from the writings of Kirian Straavaldsen, second daughter of the Lord of Muspelheim that was, Delphine 13, year 281 after the formation of the Holy Imperial See.
Neither Tuah nor Zahar are with us, but everyone else is. (Mark and I are the only players here.) Isaline, Arwel, Reban are with us.
We are in a room and can clearly hear pitched battle.
We buff up, go through the building which is completely empty... everyone went outside... this mansion faces directly out into the wastes. This is the same building where the nexus was sequestered. There's another shella roudn the nexus, but this is in the courtyard of the mansion of the Marquis.
We see a disciplined group of warriors in pitched battle with tribesmen (Orcs, goblins, ogres, etc.). It is clear who is leading them. It's the guy who cone of colded everybody causing Sahrets deatha while back. He looks kinda like a big elf. might be a human, but according tot he stories that wouldn't make sense, because he's too old. Its hard to tell what it is because he's wearing a skull mask. Hes wielding a greatclub with great speed against a dwarf who is engaging him in single combat. Anyone who gets close is dealt with. They're pretty clearly the most capable people here. The Evil guys is the calmer of the two (He's the vanquisher... the dwarf he's fighting is fighting with unbridled rage... a la frenzied berserker.) The Vanquisher is a Terror... he has several tribes working for him because he's singlehandedly defeated chieftans... and he seems to be organizing the wastes. They're stronger than isaline, but not extremely so... she'd probably put up a good fight.
The imperial troops are kinda forming a circle to move into the tribes.
We're less than 200 feat away from the battle. The dwarf is landing his on the vanquisher, but they aren't slowing the vanquisher down...
The tribes are probably going to lose. The marquis soldiers are
The Marquis is dual wielding axes.
There's a door that slams open behind us (The door to the Nexus). He looks like he is in a hurry to get somewhere... and is running towards the battle. Soon after, the door blows off its hinges and sails over the walls. Stone crumbles... and there's a wall between us and that building, but Rori is bolting, he's moving pretty fast.
Rori is calling for the marquis until he realizes what's going on then panicks even more. The two Norn guarding the former nexus site we came from also run out panicked.
A Hezrou it is., It defoliates anything nearby... plant life gets fucked. They make water undrinkable. They are clever, but simple. They are violent instead of manipulative. They're all about destroying creatures. They have a reputation for being difficult to bring down and generally, when they have been umoned, it has taken a lot of work to defeat them. Not one of the most significant threats from the abyss, but nothing to be trifled with.
Some other demons come out: They are dretches.. they're the mooks of the Demons... The souls of people who were just terrible people who didn't do anything really particularly bad.
We have never heard of a warforged becoming anything else.
And finally, a marilith comes out. She calls out in a piercing voice: 'In the name of Delphius we have come to bring you under the command of the pleneopotentiaries.' (Sense motive says tha she really, truly believes this) They are incredibly scary and horrifically dangerous. Oh, and they have no problem coordinating all those arms... their tails can crush bone... they're really very terrifying. Cold Iron weapons are more effective than Cold iron weapons.
The first person to respond is the vanquisher who says "This is not part of the plan, we withdraw..." And he waits for his troops to withdraw. The tribesmen back off. This is not what they were looking for.
Reunion
Terror in the dark
Creeping dread, demons walking
Morning dawns at last
It certainly wasn't any of his business, no, not his business at all. He was simply a humble thorn, passing through the glade when the big creatures arrived. One of them certainly did NOT belong in the Wild. She'd see. It was inevitable. The other one... Well, not so big as all that, but still. Strange to bear manufactured weapons. And he smelled of fear. No, not fear, terror. Mind-numbing, overpowering terror. Oh, light save, the pain, the fear, the abject despair! The little thorn could not but endure the terrible onslaught of emotion from the other fey. Sunlight, what had caused that agony? Was the grig unseelie? Even so, why despair? The thorn curled in on himself, shuddering under the overpowering oppression of the grig's madness... was it madness? Oh, sun and moon, it was madness! Not the casual chaos of the fey who lost themselves in the wilds. This was something worse, something darker, something... fresh. Recently woken. And ancient. Ah, Titania, what had happened to the poor trembling hopper? Primrose the thorn longed to console him, to slay him, to flee, to stand firm, to be his light in the darkness... He settled for pulling a large leaf over his head and huddling down outside of eye and earshot from the little creature. While half his mind was tied to the madness of the trembling grig, the other half prayed, prayed to Oberon to overlook them, prayed to Titania to soothe them, prayed to Puck to steal this terror. Would it work? Could it work? Oh, how the night stretched on before him. How he longed for his pouch of flint to ring himself about, for mistletoe to ward against the leanan sidhe sure to be drawn to the aegis of emotion, even for a length of ragwort to hang about his neck and stuff into his ears. Lacking any means of protection, the diminutive thorn began to sing. It wasn't a song of warding, or a song of soothing... but a song that smoothed... it spread the emotion out, diluting it, sending it onto the winds, possibly drawing the wild hunt, but clouding their eyes to the exact location. It might be enough.
The wind rose slightly, a thin moaning through the trees, caressing Kith, attenuating his pain even while dulling it. Lig... no... Oh, Grazzt was HERE! This was not his plane, this was not his place, how to escape, how to flee, how to never again be imprisoned, captured... All his nightmares... again... why again? Kith wept himself to sleep over several hours, waking to the sun in his face.
It was a couple days, then, before the airship... and the return to those foolish wretches who accepted, who dined with Grazzt. No. No trust. Only Simone had fled, which was evidence of her wisdom. He owed her a debt. And then... Oh, Li... no. The greasy, seductive tendrils of magic crept in, invading, driving aside conscious will... Kith's mind screamed at his body. No, no, no, no, no, not toward him, no... wrong direction... Oh, Light, oh Light, save, Light, light save, Titania, Oberon, Puck, MELORA!
*Shift*
The empire? This was new. Why was he in the middle of an imperial battle? Oh. Of course. The fools had released the demons, had defiled and desecrated their nexuses, had made a blasphemy of their ley lines. No wonder the monsters were out. Well, that was a simple decision. Slay the demon, slit it's throat, move to the next one, a sword through the brain pan, then hamstringing this one and leaving it to suffer... the blood coated him from head to foot when finally the battle wound down. He had moved like death itself through the battle, finding a curious rhythm and pattern to match the Vanquisher, that incomparable warrior. What a master of the art. Kith resolved to learn more of the creature, but first, to deal with this damnable empire, and its idiocy. Didn't they see the foe at their borders? The one that ALREADY ATTACKED? How could they ignore Grazzt, when all the prophecies spoke of an atrocity? How could they be so foolish? Where was their vaunted strength?
"... then shall the fields be awash in blood, foes turning to face ancient evil, rivals to slay the filth. The sky shall open, and the earth groan in pain, as from the Abyss shall pour the judgement of an age. Durus shall be stung, and Delphia shall burn with poison. No land shall be safe from the ravage, and mother shall weep for her child, that he should see such defilement in his time. Where is hope, o Durus? Where is strength, Delphia? Find them, lest you be swept from the land, your legacy but a fading memory in the darkness."
--from the writings of Kirian Straavaldsen, second daughter of the Lord of Muspelheim that was, Delphine 13, year 281 after the formation of the Holy Imperial See.
Jeff's notes Up to party switch-quake
10/30/2009
Session 8
Neither Tuah nor Zahar are with us, but everyone else is. (Mark and I are the only players here.) Isaline, Arwel, Reban are with us.
We are in a room and can clearly hear pitched battle.
We buff up, go through the building which is completely empty... everyone went outside... this mansion faces directly out into the wastes. This is the same building where the nexus was sequestered. There's another shella roudn the nexus, but this is in the courtyard of the mansion of the Marquis.
We see a disciplined group of warriors in pitched battle with tribesmen (Orcs, goblins, ogres, etc.). It is clear who is leading them. It's the guy who cone of colded everybody causing Sahrets deatha while back. He looks kinda like a big elf. might be a human, but according tot he stories that wouldn't make sense, because he's too old. Its hard to tell what it is because he's wearing a skull mask. Hes wielding a greatclub with great speed against a dwarf who is engaging him in single combat. Anyone who gets close is dealt with. They're pretty clearly the most capable people here. The Evil guys is the calmer of the two (He's the vanquisher... the dwarf he's fighting is fighting with unbridled rage... a la frenzied berserker.) The Vanquisher is a Terror... he has several tribes working for him because he's singlehandedly defeated chieftans... and he seems to be organizing the wastes. They're stronger than isaline, but not extremely so... she'd probably put up a good fight.
The imperial troops are kinda forming a circle to move into the tribes.
We're less than 200 feat away from the battle. The dwarf is landing his on the vanquisher, but they aren't slowing the vanquisher down...
The tribes are probably going to lose. The marquis soldiers are
The Marquis is dual wielding axes.
There's a door that slams open behind us (The door to the Nexus). He looks like he is in a hurry to get somewhere... and is running towards the battle. Soon after, the door blows off its hinges and sails over the walls. Stone crumbles... and there's a wall between us and that building, but Rori is bolting, he's moving pretty fast.
Rori is calling for the marquis until he realizes what's going on then panicks even more. The two Norn guarding the former nexus site we came from also run out panicked.
A Hezrou it is., It defoliates anything nearby... plant life gets fucked. They make water undrinkable. They are clever, but simple. They are violent instead of manipulative. They're all about destroying creatures. They have a reputation for being difficult to bring down and generally, when they have been umoned, it has taken a lot of work to defeat them. Not one of the most significant threats from the abyss, but nothing to be trifled with.
Some other demons come out: They are dretches.. they're the mooks of the Demons... The souls of people who were just terrible people who didn't do anything really particularly bad.
We have never heard of a warforged becoming anything else.
And finally, a marilith comes out. She calls out in a piercing voice: 'In the name of Delphius we have come to bring you under the command of the pleneopotentiaries.' (Sense motive says tha she really, truly believes this) They are incredibly scary and horrifically dangerous. Oh, and they have no problem coordinating all those arms... their tails can crush bone... they're really very terrifying. Cold Iron weapons are more effective than Cold iron weapons.
The first person to respond is the vanquisher who says "This is not part of the plan, we withdraw..." And he waits for his troops to withdraw. The tribesmen back off. This is not what they were looking for.
QUAKEEEEEEEEEEE