Guardians of the Citadel — Legacy Forums

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#401

Lucky skidded to a stop as Silveressa's arrow arced into the fighters weapon, raising her head to keep Willem on her back, the sight of Mystics dead eyes making a menacing growl rise to her throat, which died as his normal self reasserted control. "Careful lover, he's not himself right now." He cautioned the Ranger, backing up a few paces just in case Mystic should once again lose control.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#402

Initiative: (02:28:42) Minion: Tusserk rolls 1d10 and gets 1.

Unlashing the collar of his cloak, Tusserk shifted into a defensive fighting stance. The cloak spun around his body before flinging outward towards one of the enemies in a wide arc. Hoping to catch several of the people in the sweep, Tusserk wanted to disperse as many of the images as possible.

(03:14:36) Minion: Tusserk rolls 1d20 and gets 10. Of course… why would I actually hit anything…

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#403

Echo saw the vile minion on the ground beneath Mystic, and knew that the fight was over at this spot.
"Look, cloned wizards, one more wimpy than the other" the priestess noted, drawing back the bowstring and going for the legs - it would disperse the images, and incapacitate the real felon.
Verily, Echo would see him punished for interrupting the little tete-a-tete, and he needed to be alive for that (as of now, more options for punishment may become available later).
(20:18:44) Minion: EchoMirage rolls 2d20 and gets 12,1.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#404

Having manuvered close, valadaar drew his broadsword and swung in one motion towards an exposed image's back. His blade lanced into it...

Roll - 15 on dice, so AC 2 or so.
If it can bleed, it bleeds.
(22:52:53) Minion: valadaar rolls 1d6 and gets 2 +1 (broadsword)+1 Mastercraft - so 4, 6 hp total if this is a backstab...

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#405

(Lots of chat rolling with Val, Tuss, and Echo)

Too fast, too quick, too confident, Tusserk could not help but think as he circled the wizard(s). Probably has a level of something else, assassin? Something...

Tusserk swung his cloak like a drunken matador, and again the target(s) dodged in perfect synchronicity. The wizard lunged with his dagger at Tusserk, and once more Tusserk avoided the curved, wicked blade.

The monk considered his next move as the game of opportunity continued. Suddenly, the odds evened a bit for the monk. Echo's arrow pierced through one of the wizards, and just like that, it vanished. Moments later a sneaking Val, swung at another from behind, and another image faded from site.

The wizard(s) turned to assess the new threat, and finally Tusserk saw a chance...

But then Val, more agile than the wizard and the monk, stabbed through the back of one again. And this time the right one! A groan of surprise escaped the wizard's lips as broadsword met flesh and bone, driving through his body mercilessly. He grunted, was about to cast a spell no doubt, but only a gurgle of blood escaped his lips this time, and he fell...the other mirror images vanishing with his demise.

Val stood there triumphantly for a moment. He had killed a man. No one could possibly know the thoughts going through the young thief's head. Tusserk exhaled. There probably wasn't much time to celebrate however.

Chaos reigned in Outside-Webhold-Town...

The mummers were gone from the stage. The play being quite anti-climactic at this point...

Shouts and screams rung out..."Murder!" "Elf dead!" "Who was that?" "What is happening?" "I thought this was part of the play!" "Help" "Where are the d**n guards?!" and other such exclamations...

Mystic having recovered his poleaxe, approached Sil, Echo, and Lucky sheepishly with a "did I do that?" look on his face, glancing once more at the dead elf sprawled on the ground. Val meanwhile quickly searched the wizard corpse, grabbing dagger and pouch, and tearing an amulet from the wizard's neck.

Then he and the monk quickly made their way toward the others.

It was night now, and the companions could finally hear the creaking iron gates of Webhold opening some distance away. No doubt guards were on the way. Would probably be here by now, if Webhold wasn't currently undermanned. But with this much chaos outside their walls, they had no choice. Riders would come to investigate.

Perhaps time to get the hell out of Dodge.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#406

Silveressa hurried forward and knelt down next to the dead elf, quickly searching him for weaponry and gold before grabbing his dagger and giving mystic a quick nod. "We can sort out what happened later, for now we need to put distance between here and us." She turned look at the rest of her comrades, relived to notice the illusionary foes had been quickly eliminated.

"Let's retrieve the horses and get going, westward for an hour or we come to water, then we turn south, it'll keep pursuers from easily following us ."

With a reassuring smile to Willem she hurried over to retrieve their horses, grateful they had at least managed to get in a spot of shopping and grab a warm bath before finding themselves on the road once more.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#407

It rained that night. Because of course it did. It made their withdrawal a bit slower going, but would probably also stop the guards from ranging too far into this wet darkness in pursuit.

Indeed by morning light they slowed, with no guards in sight, much less the sound of hooves.

They had agreed quickly amongst themselves that Spiderheart would find them again whenever he must or could. After all, he found them that first time. Still, Tusserk wondered about his new tutor's fate, hoping for more insight into the peculiar martial arts of this world.

Echo was in thought as always, pondering many different things. Among them, he had decided to attempt to see back into his elven past, with Sil's participation, inspired by her recent "recall" of the three Coldmoat heirlooms. For her part Sil wished the same, intrigued with the idea of her "character" having centuries of past to explore.

Mystic was quiet, often staring at the skies in consternation. The giant's movements were stiff and somewhat robotic. No doubt the wound in his lower back had something to do with it...

Val walked silently, still thinking of his killing sword stroke, absentmindedly handling the erstwhile assassin's amulet (it was shaped like a figure-eight infinity sign of electrum(?), with a tiny pearl in each loop.) He was momentarily snapped from his reverie, when the giant Mystic approached him and said, "I never did thank you for risking your life for this weapon, Val. I feel that I was meant to wield it. Fearsome isn't it?"

Willem slept atop Lucky, draped in cloaks, as the dire-wolf made her way effortlessly in the darkness.

A massive flat stone came into view, as tall as Mystic and thrice as wide jutting from the muck, draped in lichen. It bore a sign of petrified wood.

Upon it were three painted markers, arrows pointing south, southwest, and southeast respectively.

Above each direction in plain common was written...

S---> Bracken Spit
SE---> Viper Pools
SW---> Tender-Rot

This seemed a good a place as any to camp for the night (morning). The rain stopped again. Small mercies...

Tusserk rustled up a fire in no time, despite the general dampness and wondered if he should train a bit or just pass out from exhaustion.

A few moments later, Lucky could hear the sound of something or someone walking in the slop some distance away. Something of the two-legged variety. It smelled human.

Into view came a peculiar young man, with peculiar facial hair. Leaning on an oaken staff, he was muttering to himself and following a house-cat sized butterfly, mauve with olivine splotches, at a safe distance, as the slowly fluttering thing, made its way above the grass and shrubs.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#408

Lucky growled at the new comer in warning, not sensing an immediate threat, but still feeling an instinctual need to challenge the arrival and alert the rest of his companions to the mustached mans presence. "A bit early in the morning to be chasing butter flies isn't it?" He asked, his voice a low throaty purr as he lowered himself closer to the ground, tensing to spring in the unlikely event the man proved to have hostile intentions.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#409

"Not chasing so much as following, it's a Maricae, Oscorpiona of Velea's to be specific. And you're a talking wolf. Hmmm, the effect of the Maricae are lunacy and madness. On the bright side it only lasts for a few days, and you appear to be the only thing that's currently affected, unless if those people over there aren't real either. On the other hand, the Maricae still appears to be fine, and I haven't swatted any others, at least not that I'm aware of, so you may in fact be a very well trained talking dire wolf, which is quite interesting."

Looking around briefly the wanderer sighted his butterfly again before turning to the adventurers and bowing deeply enough that his mustache nearly touched the grass.

"Gyma, recently of the Thyran Mage's College. Is that in fact a talking wolf, or am I insane, though, strictly speaking you could all be symptoms of my madness as well. Note to self, at some point devise a test to determine if I'm mad or not."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#410

Silveressa looked up in alarm at Lucky's warning growl, a hand dropping to her scimitar as she noticed the approaching figure, his introduction making her arch an eye brow in surprise as she looked over at Lucky as if to ask him is he for real?

She shook her head as she felt a grin of amusement rising to her lips, answering his question with a smile, "He's no illusion, he is my companion Lucky, I'm Silveressa and these are my travelling companions, Echo, Valadaar, Tusserk, Mystic, and Willem." She gestured to each as she spoke. "You are welcome to share our fire and morning meal if it suits you Gyma." She released the grasp of her blade as she gave him a welcome smile decideding he posed no immediate threat and was in an odd fashion, rather intriguing and affable.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#411

Keeping a cool head, Liantirie grabbed a bundle of arrows, some ham, dark bread and cheese from the counters in the confusion, leaving some coins behind so that the shop's proprietor would find them, then made off with the band into the rain.

"Should have written an amphibious character" the priestess mused, walking next to Sil.

The newcomer was welcome with one raised eyebrow, then a faint smile. Quirky characters were significantly more pleasant than the average population so far, which favored murder, larceny and bullheadedness over quirkiness.

"I know illusions would reassure you of their reality, so that figments of the mind may live longer - but you seem pretty real to me, taking into account the limits of epistemology and the senses. I may use pinching if necessary to reassure you of this."

Also, butterflies - Echo smiled, for butterflies were awesome. This one was especially stubborn, fluttering around in the rain.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#412

A brief aside from the man behind the pixels; the words in italics in this passage are to be assumed by the reader to be in the Elven tongue. This, of course, will not be the case in all uses of italicized text by this poster, however, in this passage at least, it shall suffice.

Returning the smile with a grin of his own, Gyma asked, "but, my lady1, if I was going insane, that's, in fact, and generally assuming that my lunacy would wish to remain hidden, almost exactly what it'd have you say... . It is, however, proving unable to remain completely inconspicuous with the inclusion of a talking dire wolf."

Turning back to the wolf, "Seeing as it's been assured to me by the lady1 that you are, in fact, real, and, until I receive evidence that she is actually a figment of my fevered mind, I shall make sure to treat you such-wise; namely, as if you are all just as real as the sun in the sky."

"And now; ladies1, gentlemen, and wolf; I must catch a butterfly before it flies off. Its abdominal excretions must be harvested and dried, they fetch a decent price among those who wish to feign insanity for a spell. Assuming you're all still here when I return in a couple minutes I shall, at least one can only hope, share a fine breakfast with you."

1: The strict meaning of the word here is limited to Elven maidens on the cusp of adulthood, a term that likely doesn't apply to an Elf with centuries of memories she plans to 'unlock.'

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#413

"You're welcome, though something seems off about it..."

---------------------

"Madness generally precludes self-diagnosis," said Valadaar offhandedly. He was not surprised by the odd person's appearance. Strange stuff seemed to be attracted to them.

Madness indeed. He had killed someone he didn't know to save someone he barely knew. Why? It seemed the right thing to do at the time. Violence seemed to follow that monk everywhere they went. This world seemed a lot harsher than the one he left. Lots of sharp edges. Certainly more who actively wanted to kill him. Oddly he felt very detached at killing the mage. Was that really him or someone else?

This body was more agile and tougher than the one he left, and seemed far more eager to take chances than he was comfortable with.

After Gyma left and was out of earshot, Valadaar said, "You know, he could have just cased us for an attack. Just sayin."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#414

"I could still shoot him in the back, and so could Sil. But, he's less annoying and deserving of arrows than most we met until now. So, I am somewhat hesitant."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#415

Lucky shook his head at the rogues observation, "He is alone and I scent no others, if he wished us harm he would befriend us and then strike in our sleep when the number on guard are fewer and he could slay more readily." He stood and nuzzled Willem briefly, ensuring his jack was properly fastened against the rain and cold. "Besides, those with ill intent often are more oily in mannerism and quicker to garner good will, not speculate we are illusions and chase house cat sized butterflies."

He yawned, his fangs bared briefly as he did so, eyeing the newcomer as he pursed the insect with single minded stubbornness. "He seems no more unsettling than the man with drawings of us and a spider shaped scar over his heart but we can keep a cautious eye upon him just in case, if nothing else he may offer us news from surrounding villages and perhaps better identify the bracers and pole arm we acquired, assuming he truly is a mage and it's not further madness on his part."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#416

"He doesn't seem unaccustomed to travel, and carries no obvious weapons beyond the staff, I would say he is most likely a man of magic, but he may well have ulterior motives."

She shrugged and gave Valadaar a playful grin. "If you feel it's warranted you're welcome to rifle through his personal belongings after he goes to sleep tonight, assuming he travels with us for a time. Although when he catches you snooping and turns you into a butterfly to chase across the swamp lands don't say I didn't warn you."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#417

Gyma walked back to the campfire, folded sheet of paper with the still wet abdominal fluids of the butterfly encased. Seeing the surly adventurers were still there he walked up to the fire and set the small packet up near the fire to dry.

"None of you, would happen to have a smidgen of wax I could use? I appear to have forgotten to buy candles."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#418

Silveressa nodded, rummaging around her backpack for a moment before producing a small piece of candle, tossing it to the mage with a smile. "Here ya go, so what brings you to the swamps, besides entomological pursuits I mean." As she spoke she added another log to the fire and sprinkled a pinch more powdered sage into the bubbling stew. "I should be ready in another hour, hour and a half tops." She gave a glance over at her comrades, "I hope everyone remembered to stock up on rations last time we were in town?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#419

The luscious smell of the salted ham, produced by a smiling Echo, answered her question, as the stew boiled away. This was one of the few times they were able to sit around a fire and relax, since "the incident" a week and a half ago...

A slow muted roll of thunder wiped the smile from the Elven priestesses lips once more. She made a face at the gray skies, looking like she'd hang herself from the closest gnarled tree, if the rain started again.

Mystic rose, with a pained look and a grunt, and made his way over to Gyma. Towering over the strange traveler, he said "Are you in fact a Mage? Can you use your magic to tell me about this weapon?" He asked rattling Headtaker for effect.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#420

"I am, in fact, a fully accomplished Magus of the Thrayan College, and am assisting her in the collection of curios, peculiarities, books, and artefacts; as such, yes, I am in fact able to identify items for you, though I wasn't planning on doing such today, so you find me woefully unprepared in that regard. Though, if you are planning to eat like this for a while, I would gladly do it for free so long as I have a place at your fire and some warm food in my belly for however long it takes me to identify any items you may have. It would provide a welcome respite from collecting butterfly paste, no matter how useful it may be in certain circumstances."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#421

Looking over at the elf with a slight smirk, Tusserk spoke up. “Oh yes, I was able to procure several days of absolutely nothing during the attack by the psychotic mage that wanted to play pin the daggers in my kidneys.”

Standing with a stretch and half a nod, he moved just outside the light of the campfire. “Let me know once the meal is ready, I am going to be exercising.”

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#422

"Technically, beating up the mage was exercise" Echo chimed in while cooking, then fed Silver a piece of ham. "Done, you think?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#423

Silveressa nodded, chewing thoughtfully, "Perhaps after we have eaten it would be a suitable time to delve into our past Elvish memories?" She asked the cleric, gesturing to her tent and shrugging. "Now's as good a time as any."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#424

"Okay gang, we'll catch some rest, don't disturb our Elven cultural and religious happening unless someone comes to murder us yet again."
Echo took Silveressa, and they headed towards the tent.
"This applies to the kooky wizard too. I will smack the first one to disturb without good reason. With a mace. I will be the judge of what constitutes good reason."
The priestess laughed and winked, index finger pointing at the rest of the group along with a very sincere thumbs up - clearly inspired by Buddy Jesus.

"Good."
Echo opened the flap and crawled inside.
"You know, I have quite the temper, but so far, I am holding up. Come, sit, let's wallow in memory."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#425

Val looked up, "I think knowing more about that pole arm might make sense, in light of recent events. Or these bracers." Val gestured to the ones he wore.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#426

Some time later...

Gyma began fondling the gruesome polearm, his brows scrunched in concentration. Mystic stood vigil beside the wizard, not taking his eyes off his precious, though the warrior had removed bits of his own armor in the meantime, in an attempt to relax from its constant strain. He blamed chafing.

Val watched and eyed his own silver bracers, waiting his turn. It was then the thief noticed the "thing" on Mystics lower back. A dark gray splotch, where the giant warrior had been stabbed, like stony scales on his flesh, slowly spreading.

Tusserk returned to eat his stew in silence.

They needed this rest. It was long overdue...

Willem was fiddling with sticks, sitting by the fire, leaning on Lucky. The wolf was sleeping peacefully.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#427

Valadaar looked alarmed. "I think we need to interrupt the elvish orgy. Mystic looks like he got stabbed by a Nazgul..."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#428

Lucky stirred at Val's choice of words and sickening taint of the foul wound flooding his nostrils, looking up briefly in alarm, before rising and stretching, eying the wound with reservation. "No earthen wound I have ever lain eyes on." He admitted with a flick of the ear. "As for disturbing the two, any interruption may injure one or both of them, or perhaps split their consciousness between the bodies, it should be a measure of last resort and we still have a couple of options open to us.""

"He turned to eye the tent and the newly arrived wizard, his thoughts coming clearer as he suppressed the instinctual urges and thoughts of Lucky, focusing on the present problem before him. "Sil has the poison coated blade that did this among her things near the outside flap of her tent, as a rogue I assume you know about poisons and examining it may shed some light on what kind of condition this is, also assuming it is magic our newly arrived mage may be of aid as well."

He turned to scent the air and listen to the sounds from within the tent before speaking again. "Any sexual intimacy between them has either already taken place or is planned for after their ritual, for now I fear they are within themselves, he gave Valadaar a curled lip grin, "Also it takes more than a couple women for it to be considered an orgy, at least two more."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#429

The words of the rogue caused Tusserk to look up from his meal. “Lucky, if your nose can discern the difference, is it poison or infection? Slow poison, cure disease, and neutralize poison are second, third, and fourth level spells respectively. It is doubtful the cleric is of a high enough level to gain access to those spells. If it is magic then the blade may very well be the only thing to offer a clue on how to cure him.”

Placing his bowl down, he stands to move to a better position to look at the wound. “This is far outside my range of medical knowledge, which is far below most of the rest of yours.” Plucking two living leaves off of a nearby tree, he rips one in half and keeps the other whole before running them over the wound lightly. “Now to see if it is transmitted through contact.” Tusserk set the two leaves side by side with a third leaf to watch for any changes.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#430

Lucky sniffed at the wound cautiously, keeping a good foot away lest he accidentally come in contact with it, watching Tusserks leaf experiment with curiosity. "it may only spread among animals not plants, perhaps find a grub or earthworm to test it on as well?" He gestured with his muzzle towards a fallen log near the outskirts of the campfire,

"Over there looks a likely candidate for some local fauna, assuming the infection is not communicable we may be able to use swamp leeches to milk the poison from the wound and slow its spread." He lowed his voice and leaned in closer to whisper to his two comrades, "It may also be advisable to remove the mans weapons and fashion some restraints for later use, a fever induced delirium could make him a danger to himself and the rest of us."

(I need a perception test GM to see what I can detect from the wound by scent.)

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#431

"My guess is some form of poison, likely insinuative, probably magic. Maybe a really fast version of the Grey Scale from Game of Thrones.
Echo would be best at this - he has real-world medical training.."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#432

"Echo's not the only one," Lucky interjected with a quiet sigh. "I was in med school for two years before-" He stopped speaking abruptly and shook his head, "Before I left, and I am a registered nurse and have seen lots of ailments in the E.R, but this is like nothing from earth."

He turned and padded around to look mystic in the eyes, "Can you describe your symptoms? Are you in any pain, or is the area numb or itchy? Any mental fog or feelings of nausea?" He leaned closer and spoke a touch quieter, regretting the lack of privacy for such a personal question. "Given the wounds location in the back near the kidneys, I have to ask, have you noticed any blood or unusual discharge in your urine?" He reached up a paw and placed it against the fighters forehead, checking to see if he felt feverish or clammy to the touch. "Can someone take a pulse reading for me?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#433

"I'm fine, Luck--Carly. Just feel a bit stiff. Why, does it look bad? I guess it feels a bit numb since you ask. But I'll be fine. 18 Constitution remember?" Mystic smiled momentarily, still focused on Gyma's handling of Headtaker.

Sniffing the wound, Lucky quickly determined there was no discernible infection. That left poison, magical or otherwise. The wound smelled of nothing in fact. Whatever venom was involved had no scent.

Tusserk's experiments also yielded results. Apparently whatever was affecting Mystic was not transferable by contact, according to the litmus leaves.

Gyma was half-way done with the polearm, when he opened an eye. He recognized the stony texture surrounding the wound on the warrior's back. The locals called it "Basil-milk". Sounded innocent enough, except it was a euphemism for Basilisk Milk. Rare stuff, but he had heard of it even across the sea from where he hailed. Some of the more sophisticated assassins of his realm, were known to purchase the extract from the elves of the very swamp they were currently camping near. Bottom line, Gyma posited, was that the big guy was slowly turning to solid stone. Once the organs began to calcify, Mystic's anguish would become apparent. Sadly, Gyma wasn't aware of a cure.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#434

"So, Silver, how do elves link? I guess it's not our avatar tails." Echo looked puzzled.

Silveressa giggled, “Last time I checked I was lacking any plant bits on my person,” She paused in thought a moment, making sure the tent flap was securely drawn and tied down, the slight gloom of the interior somewhat cozy.

“I think some type of conjoined meditation might be the ticket, or maybe it’s a natural side effect when two elves make love?” She shrugged uncertainly, “If Spider heart was around he could tell us.”

"Have you felt something peculiar when you have searched the memory on your own? That might give us a hint." Echo asked her softly.

She shook her head, “I haven’t really tried very hard, I’ve been more than a little worried what I might find, this world seems pretty harsh and brutal, a happy childhood sounds rare.”

Echo smirked, perking up, shrugging, rolling the eyes back. "Then, we have to experiment. For science, and all of Elf-kind. Hold my hands, and begin delving - and observe your mind and body. There will be an epiphenomenon indicating either a psychic or corporeal aspect of the Delve. This will steer our exploration further. We must delve slowly, as not to be overwhelmed and retain our faculties for astute observation."

Silveressa nodded, pulling off her armor and laying her bow in easy reach, taking a deep breath and centering herself as she sat crosslegged facing Echo. “Before we get started just let me promise you, whatever dark bits of unpleasantness we might run across in our pasts, I won’t take it personally, I get we’re just inhabitants and were not in control of anything that happened before we arrived.”

"We can't be held culpable for anything, true - but it would be actually appropriate if we did find something dramatic in the past - that makes us more interesting protagonists (dramatis personae) and gives us greater depth. It would be narratively appropriate."
The priestess took a deep breath, adopting a steady rhythm… inhale, exhale, slow and steady, deep and whole.
"It's not dissimilar to the discoverers of LSD…" Then, the quipping stopped as Echo focused on the task at hand: "Feel anything?"

Silveressa nodded, reaching out to gently take the priestesses hands, clearing her mind and letting it drift backwards, similar to how she let herself go when divining the histories of Valadaar’s ill gotten treasures. “I think it’s starting to-” She stopped speaking as the memories began to unfurl themselves in her consciousness, like a flower blooming at dawn's first light.

There was light, both between their hands, seeping as if each set of joined palms held a firefly, and the Chant came to their heads, its words in a tongue predating Elven, perhaps even the start of the world, a musical tongue that could speak no falsehood.
The first tones escaped their lips, and all Echo could do was wonder: "In this world, I can sing…."

Silveressa slowly relaxed into the rhythm of the chant, its song- like pattern lulling her into a state of deeper relaxation, nearly that of a lucid dream; the glow between their hands intensifying, separating into several dozen smaller orbs that began to dance about their heads, curling themselves in a time-lost runic pattern. The temperature inside the tent dropped sharply for several seconds as the enchantment took hold.

The light seeped into their hair, and the vibrant red and gold shone subtly; Echo gasped as flowers of light sprouted from between the shining tresses, and opened up akin to a spring meadow, layers upon layers of petals unfurling in thalian cascades. Sparks of light flitted hence and forth from blossom to blossom in streams, thoughts akin to fireflies surrounding them. "Don't let anyone ever tell us we don't have beautiful minds" Echo sighed, and swooned as their thoughts began to meld.

The first hazy memories and images that flowed to the elves were of figures retreating into the muck of the Soulmarsh Vast, overrun by the sheer numbers of humans, with their stone castles and their querulous ways. A fleeting glance of elven forces battling hordes of armored men, some victories some losses, but the numbers always in the favor of the expanding humans....

Then an image of childhood bubbled up from below the waves of memory. The haze lifted, unveiling two young elves listening to stories and tales from the elders.

They simultaneously gasped at the realization that the images of war and immigration had not been their own, but rather the memories of their elders, memories of the elven histories told to them.

More hazy images flickered into existence, difficult to truly see or identify at first. The trailing locks of their hair gently intertwined as they felt the connection between them deepening, each memory presenting itself to two minds, two contexts and sets of attributions, the thoughts of each audible to the other - and the attribution of the origin of the memory to a person faint.

Finally the images clarified. The young Lianterie, with her unmistakable fiery curls, sitting near a stream, tiny fairy-like glowbugs darting overhead. Mists rising from the water. A hand touches hers. Somehow Echo knows who it is though the face isn't clear in the vision. Ikavilain, first ranger of Zamaloq, caresses her arm...

Lianterie is in tears. Why? Difficult to tell. Ikavilain whispers something...

"My feelings are not mine to command, Liantirie, my heart yearns for your half-sister, her beauty and grace fill my dreams and waking hours. Please, find the inner greatness to understand. The world holds wonder beyond what we felt and could have shared, and undiscovered passions on each of its many corners. So many others. Your whole life is ahead…"

The vision shifted...

Silveressa, on horseback, her hair tousled by the playful wind, is riding along with the other rangers, Ikavilain at her side. Silveressa's eyes are focused on the horizon, where their quarry should appear, but Ikavilain's gaze glides over a far closer prey, her leather-clad form. Wrath is written into the features of the first ranger. "I could have had your half-sister's affections, but spurned her love for yours. I desire your heart, but you continue to deny me, tantalize me with your dispassionate lasciviousness..."

The scene shifts without warning. The elven rangers lay defeated, another tragedy brought upon them by their unchanging ways. Silveressa lay in a darkened cave, wounded and alone. She is hiding. In the blackened depths hears a low growl. Hesitantly she forces herself to Investigate. Two wolf pups lay deeper in the cave. One is dead, the other licking his deceased twin, mewling in hunger and loss.

He growls again when the ranger approaches. Brave one, she thinks, and reaches out to the little wolf pup. Hesitant, the pup lets her touch him..."We're both lucky to be alive little one." She hears herself saying..."Lucky," she thinks she hears the wolf pup answer, her eyes opening wide in surprise.

The cave dissolves in a wash of rainbow light, clarifying on Lianterie as she packs her belongings. "What will you do now?" She hears someone ask. her voice filled with both pain and resignation as she answers...

"The goddess will have me. She is the pastor of the dead, and I verily am dead inside."

"And your half sister?" A hushed voice inquires.

"She has her own life - and is dead to me." Lianterie answers solemnly. "And the only one I've ever loved belongs to her now as well. There is nothing for me here anymore. I will go learn of death...and magic."

The memory meld fades...

Half-sisters?!

"This drama is excellent! Echo exclaimed. "Estranged half-sisters vying for the same man, to reconnect when the need is dire and their erstwhile … not-boyfriend… dead and buried."

“I think from my memory you were welcome to his affections,” Silveressa replied with a grin.

"Yes, yes, but it's more dramatic this way."

The ranger nodded slowly, her smile softening, “You really should have been a bard in some manner.”

"I do have an amateur theatre troupe back home, actually. Regardless, this is golden, just imagine…"
Echo put on a fake dramatic face: "You claimed him for yourself and let him die!"
"Ha, gold."

Silveressa laughed again, the dramatic weight of the experience and unexpected accompanying headache lessening under the welcome relief of humor, a part of her feeling a swell of affection for Echo, as if the brief union had bonded them on a deeper level.

"I may have gathered a few of your character's thoughts and a few of old Earth thoughts of yours, Sil. Stuck in my head, they are." Echo told her lightly.

She gave the priestess a playful grin, wondering which thoughts of hers she had managed to access, “Do share with me these hidden, no doubt lewd thoughts of mine, you managed to glean, don’t keep a girl in suspense.”

"Suffice to say, I am ever so flattered and infused with a healthy dose of Oh, You!" Liantirie booped her nose. With an index finger no less.

Silveressa smiled and pulled back for a half a second, before reaching out to gently caress the side of Echo’s cheek, “Something I’ve discovered, both in my time on earth and here, take full advantage of the moments of bliss and enjoyment when they present themselves, because you sometimes never get a second chance.”

Echo's eyes flitted across her face in a bedazzled question.

Silveressa winked at her playfully, leaning closer to softly brush her lips across the priestesses, breathing gently. “Relax dear, I can help you find the way, if your memory fails you.”

Briefly, the priestess accepted her lips, brushing gently across, then held Sil at arm's length, grasping her shoulders, serious and sincere. "Are we ever coming back, Silver?"

The ranger shrugged, “By now our bodies are likely in prison or some asylum, assuming those inhabiting them didn’t get killed wandering into traffic, going home could easily be the end of the line for us, and I feel this place is perhaps our best chance at happiness now.”

"Considering that someone is always attempting to kill us, it may be a short chance - but, we might have forever. Until the stars fade from the sky, Silver?" Echo's grey eyes were intense, pupils wide, almost frighteningly sincere.

Silveressa closed her eyes in thought momentarily, taking a deep breath as she opened them and met Echos gaze with equal intensity. “Until the end of time and beyond, if that’s what the future holds in store for us dear, but however long, I wish to face the untold ages with you at my side.”

"I better not get boring then, eh?"

Silveressa giggled and kissed her a second time, “With how well we seem to connect, I don’t believe even an eternity is long enough for either of us to become bored.”

"Flatter us some more, please?"

She smiled and slid her hand lower, her fingers dancing over silken elvish skin, “There are far more ways to flatter than with just words my dear.”

The priestess stiffened, bashful, wine red in the face, for neither the elf nor the man were used to being … seduced? Silver knew Echo would play the moment off with another poorly timed joke in 10.. 9...

She leaned in and kissed the Priestess a second time, pulling her closer and laying back to pull the elf on top of her, sighing slowly and smiling calmly, this wasn't the first inexperienced woman she had introduced to the ways of romance after all.

"So is this how the sisters reconcile?" and, slipping into the role, gathered courage to slip a hand into Sil's garments, tracing her curves with the other.

“It sure beats hours of counseling.” She quipped, gasping in surprise as Echo’s touch filled her with warmth. With a soft moan of desire she leaned forward and gently nipped at the edge of Echo’s ear, trusting their desires would guide them the rest of the way.

(the preceding was written by Echo and Silveressa in G docs then posted here after editing.)

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#435

Lucky snorted in frustration, eyeing the elves tent and scenting the air before speaking. "This is too important to wait any longer, and my wolfish senses tell me they are no longer.. Occupied, and are sleeping, quite contentedly." He added with a wink, padding over to the tent and unabashedly sticking his head inside, the wolf side of him unconcerned with civilized concerns like privacy and discretion.

Without hesitation he pressed his cold nose into the ball of Silveressa's foot, chuffing in amusement at her scream of surprise, looking at her entangled with Echo with a mixture of bemusement and unreadable canine thoughts. "If you're both done recovering from your brain diving Mystic needs you, he's apparently turning to stone from basilisk magics."

He didn't wait for a reply before turning and retreating from the tent, giving them a backwards glance and shaking his head. "Elves!" He growled in amused exasperation, giving the others a bob of the head. "They will be out shortly in some fashion or other."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#436

Silveressa emerged from the tent a few moments later with a slightly embarrassed smile, reaching back to aid Echo in her exit before turning to regard Mystic with concern, Lucky repeating his earlier suggestion to check with a grub for the poisons transference potential and using leeches if it proved feasible. "If it's magical a stone to flesh spell may cure him after he's solidified." She pondered for a moment, waiting for Echo to gather her thoughts and examine the injury for herself.

"No sense messing with worms first, might as well try for the leeches and see what happens?" She offered, heading over to a stagnant pool of brackish water and turning over a few stones with a stick, smiling a few moments later. "Let's see how these little lawyers work to suckle the poison from your back Mystic." She gently pulled up the mans shirt and delicately applied the blood suckers to the wound with gloved fingers, taking care not to press too firmly upon the injured area.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#437

Echo emerged from the tent nonchalantly, a professional dispassionate mien upon the freckled features.
"Ubi pus, ibi evacua, they always told me. We must first examine whether the affected region is mobile against lower tissue strata. If the subcutis is the farthest it reaches, I may be able to perform an in sano resection, leaving him with but a wound I can instantly heal."
So, if the wound is on the back, does it already affect the muscle and bone, or is it still superficial?

The doctor went to examine the barbarian. 5 years since last practical surgery experience, you can do this!

"And if not, I suggest we dramatically charge into the swamp - the origin of this vile poison - and look for whatever alchemist or brewer makes it, to find a cure in the brink of time. Or, we leave him as a statue and magic him back some seven levels later."

Examining, Echo grumbled: "Who wastes such a poison on a level 2 character anyway?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#438

"Our alternate selves seem to have many enemies...." said Valadaar. "I had the same thought, and its the only way it makes sense to me."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#439

As the conversation circled around Myst's wound, Gyma could only help but wonder at some of the terms the others were throwing around. That a group of mercenaries would be knowledgeable on non-magical barbery and the dressing of wounds wasn't surprising in and of itself, though that the talking wolf apparently had two years experience in an "Ee Ar," what ever that was, in a field that dealt with issues like this was. Of course, that wasn't the only think his mind, already concerned about its own sanity, latched on to. Nazgul, Game of Thrones said in a way to imply it was some sort of proper noun, grey scale, though if Gyma was going to be perfectly honest with himself he might have read about some disease by the name and just forgot, it was his first year at the College, and then "Ibi pus ibi evacua" didn't sound like any elven he'd ever heard in his life, it didn't even remind him of the fragments of druidic that he'd heard that one time. More concerning though were references to the "real world" and "alternate selves," which tended to imply that Gyma was relying on a group that appeared to be suffering some sort of shared hallucination to vouchsafe his sanity, a troubling situation indeed.

Packing his pipe, he grabbed the dried packet from by the fire and a coal to light his tobacco before grabbing his bag and the polearm and moving off to where he could sit with his back to a tree some ten feet from the rest of the group.

Hopefully nothing will happen until I finish identifying this polearm and anything thing else these lunatics have...

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#440

Spiderheart appeared just as Gyma finished with Headtaker.

The monk looked ragged, his eyes bloodshot, his movements usually fluid, were stilted.

"My friends. I see you are alive and well. Whatever troubles you must have faced you managed to overcome."

The monk approached. "I found a woman named Tuyana. She remembered the...boy" he indicated Willem, "But..." He hesitated until he noticed Willem was not paying the least attention. "...wanted nothing to do with him sadly." He concluded quietly.

"I was also attacked. It was wise of you to not enter Webhold. Assassins awaited inside the walls. The elves that wish you dead and their allies. I was fortunate to escape. Though less fortunate than I would have hoped."

The monk raised his left arm with great effort for all to see. His hand wrist and arm up to the elbow looked to be made of solid gray stone.

"I have been poisoned by elves. Vile basilisk milk. They resort to this no doubt because their magic is not available to them anymore. I must reach the monastery where my Master Tun Zin would know of a cure. I fear I have little time..."

The monk was not yet aware of Mystic's identical plight.

"Will you come with me?" He asked the group. "It is merely another two days of hard travel through Viper Pools and the Red Fens. It is in the Red Fens where dwells the mysterious Alchemist as well. Perhaps a cure can be found there too, though the Alchemist is known to be fickle and sometimes difficult to deal with..."

"From the monastery, it is only a few days travel more to Sunken Zamaloq, where you can find the elves you seek."

"Oh" Spiderheart added, "I see you've met someone," he said gesturing to Gyma, who rose enlightened as to Headtaker's magic**, but was rather tired now...

**ooc