Guardians of the Citadel — Legacy Forums

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#601

“These wounds were caused by the same style that Spiderheart uses, or at least one very similar. A rival school or have his brothers turned upon themselves?” Tusserk kneels down to study the hands, forearms, and shins of each monk. “Which of you prefers to strike in a hard, linear motion?”

Are there any hard strike scars/abrasions from training in a hard style on any of the monks?

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#602

no sir. All soft style all the way.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#603

"These are all soft style monks. None of them have the scar tissue of punching or kicking to deliver a strike. Hopefully this is just a training exercise that ended badly but I would suggest extreme caution from now on." Turning towards Silver and Lucky. "Can either of you tell how many were in this fight?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#604

Myst moved along the pool's edge, testing the water for a track. Eventually he found one, a spongey, mazey, ankle-deep track to cave circumnavigating pool.

Going as gingerly as he could, he followed it to the cave's edge. Then, taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, he charged inside, ducking beneath the low entrance.

(12:46:07) Minion: MysticMoon rolls 1d20 and gets 4. (Perception check for the track)

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#605

Silveressa knelt down and examined the corpses first, "The maggots are in their second instar, means the bodies have been dead approximately three days." She looked up at Lucky and winked as his surprised expression, "I wasn't always a sickly cripple with a cane who wrote for a living you know."

She paused to survey the surrounding area, noting the foot positions and indentations that marked their movement and direction. "Five or six from that direction, ganged on up these three here, looks like they moved in from the side and flanked out to strike from all sides and overwhelmed them."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#606

"So much for training exercise."

Echo was still frankly pissed at himself. Properly and deeply so. Exhausted, the priestess had fallen face down into the blankets the day before, when Silveressa discussed the matters of the cursed cleaver with Mystic.
Though of limited clinical experience, Echo would have recognized the signs of an addict - albeit a magical one - who was about to abscond to have another fix. After all, magical or chemical, these things pulled the same strings in the human brain. He would not have given Mystic the benefit of the doubt, and would have knocked him senseless with magic if need be, just to sink the cursed blade in the mire.

Wrath had welled up within, walking well-trod paths, ready to question Silver's judgment, Carly's nursing skills, and the wits of the rest. Alas, wrath had cost him so much so often, and he instead simmered down, spouting a stream of very Slavic curses at no one in particular.

Desiring to get something done, and well aware of their less than silent approach, the priestess strolled inside the monastery, shield and weapon raised, calling to potential survivors: "Come out. We are not your enemies. If you have any wounded, we can help!"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#607

MysticMoon and the Dracolisk

He ducked his head just in time to avoid a concussion then rushed into the gloom of the cave...

So far so good. He had avoided a dreaded swim.

First thing that greeted him was utter blackness, even his own shadow had now abandoned the warrior. He waited for his eyes to somewhat adjust since charging darkness made little sense. Once he could make out the contours of the beast's lair he moved forward. The cave seemed larger inside than its humble maw portended. Sounds of water dripping into water somewhere accompanied him. Strange things he had no desire to identify, crunched underfoot with every step. The smell was almost overpowering. An indescribable stench that brought tears to his eyes unbidden. He moved forward once more...

Then finally, an adversary! He raised headtaker and grinned involuntarily. No wait, a statue? Several statues actually lining the earthen walls and floor of the fetid lair, some leaning, some randomly scattered about and broken. Squinting, he could make out countless claw and teeth marks upon the forms of the formerly living masonry.

Oh gods, the stench!!

Something buzzed near his ear. He smashed it with his meaty palm.

No one home? For a second he found himself considering apologizing to his bloodthirsty polearm.

Now what?

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#608

Mystic groped about, feeling the statues for any useful items that may have evaded the stonification effect. He also searched the ground.

He did the best at staying quiet that he could, cringing every time his chain coat jingled. Couldn't be helped.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#609

A fruitless night of hunting; The beasts were getting scarcer around this region. Reluctantly, She lurked back through the heavy shadows of the trees, reaching the familiarity of her lair as the sunlight began to ooze between branches and leaves, illuminating the sickly green swampland. She was weary - a few hours of rest were necessary before returning to the hunt.

Some distance from her lair, she paused, making deep, clawed rivets in the mud. A foreign scent on the wind...? Curious - nearly all manner of creatures had learned to keep a wide berth from her abode. The stink of the intruder permeated the air and led straight to the entrance of her cave! The odour identified the creature as of human blood. So, either a lost explorer or a blessed lunatic has come to her. Normally, she would immediately penetrate the confines of her lair and exterminate such a pest, but an echo of curiousity murmured through her head. She would investigate. She would wait.

Forward she stalked on her six powerful legs; through the sodden terrain and into the murky pool which bordered the entrance to her domain. With surprising finesse for a creature her size, she submerged herself into the slimy surface with nary a ripple. She was hungry. She was tired. But she could wait.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#610

Mystic had slipped past Celsia as she slept, far from the group of aliens, half submerged in a pool of swamp water. How she eventually emerged from it without being completely filthy was pretty much anyone's guess. For a long moment, she considered tracking backwards after him. Destroying that beast was her priority, but she felt she needed real allies for that. Saving the life of the alien would have been an overall positive, too, but she would honor the other's decision as to how to spend their own flesh. The aliens could do what they wished with their own. They knew everything, anyway. Better for her to simply follow along, for now.

Once they reached the monastery, however, she knelt next to one of the corpses, looking it over. Killed by men, rather than the dracolisk. Beaten to death, by the looks of it, and the swamp would claim them soon enough. Rising, she simply shook her head, walking along with the priestess, her hand resting lightly on the slender sword at her hip. Better not to let her wander into what was likely an ambush alone.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#611

Eyes open, and ears listening, Valadaar made no sound as he sought to disappear, even a little. So it had been for naught.

He strained his senses for anything else alive here, or at least mobile, he added to his thought.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#612

"It occurs to me we've been over looking one of our strongest source of allies," Lucky told his friends quietly, scenting the air for any hint of living creatures. "The professor told us we were part of an escort company, would it not be advisable to seek them out? Not only would we have access to the warehouse of goods he mentioned, but they could also offer us tasks within our range of capability, and temporary lodgings, as well as perhaps finance a recovery expedition for Mystic given he is part of them as well?"

He flicked his tail and bowed his head slightly, waiting for a response to his suggestion.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#613

Lootz

Chainmail jingling, he squinted at the statues and felt his way around the crunchy floor. The crunch came from twigs and bones, he quickly surmised. Peering between the toes of an elven statue as he examined the ground, he spied something at last! An ochre colored tooth, inch and a half long, serrated like a great white’s, was there for the taking, wedged in the statue’s foot.

Mystic picked it up…

That just left gums, or was it fat? Liver? Dew claw? He was about to get up when he noticed something in the mud. A bow? Yes, a recurved longbow, intricately carved—he wiped away the grime and squinted once more—with scenes of slaughter, etched by the hand of a master artist. Oh ho! Mystic knew someone who’d like this! But it made no matter, headtaker reminded him, he was here to behead…

Further exploration revealed a leaden-silver mace, the head styled into that of a screaming, ‘The-Scream’-by-Munch-kind-of-face, as well as a broach, a single walnut-sized ruby or garnet, probably ruby, within a silver clasp, inserted into the center of a steel shield, shaped like a six-months pregnant woman’s belly. If ruby, a guy could comfortably retire on one that size, either world, here or there.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#614

"It beats wandering randomly in a southern direction hoping to find a task pays coin and is within our skill range," She agreed, nodding to Lucky and readying her bow just in case Echo and Celesia's approach tot he monastery was greeted with hostility. "Not to mention the guild we're all employed by is probably rather concerned we died int he inn fire by now."

She paused and smiled in slight amusement, "I wonder if any of us have friends or family back at the guild HQ? Who knows Val, you may turn out to have a passel of youngins and some half orc wife."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#615

"I'm not sure about that. I think we were set up to start with, and I doubt we will be warmly received. Remember people knew we were at the tavern, and there are unanswered questions.
I'd be willing to be there are prices on our heads big enough for the Guild to betray us. We need to find out somehow before we stick our head in the noose."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#616

"Once we get to Blackton Val that should be easy enough, as a rogue you have contacts in the thieves guild there and stuff right?" Lucky asked him, "A single person inside the guild may have snitched on us, but I have my doubts the guild itself would betray us, a guild that gets known for selling out their members often is ripped apart by internal distrust and disputes not long after, I mean who's going to be part of a organization they can't trust to have their backs?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#617

The following was written by Tusserk, Lady Wolf, and Silveressa in chat then posted here after editing for clarity.

A few days ago, the evening after they left the alchemists hut...

Silveressa started into the fire quietly, enjoying the night breeze as it stirred the otherwise humid air, giving Tusserk a smile, "Night watch over a camp of sleeping comrades? Brings back fond memories of when I was in the service."

Lucky sat with his head on his paws, watching distant fireflies idly, bending an ear as the ranger spoke.

Tusserk nodded slightly at the remark before replying. "It's about the only normal thing to happen so far."

Silveressa grinned in agreement. "It's been a long strange trip so far, not what I was expecting when I sat down for a game of D&D that evening."

"To hear the alchemist tell it we're all being influenced by demons because our game of D&D was an evil ceremony!" Lucky let out a short barking laugh, bobbing his head in amusement.

Tusserk smirked at Silveressa's statement. "Speaking of that game, the Alchemist said we were possessed by demons. My friend was out of town and I was a last minute house sitter. No one goes to summon a demon without knowledge of the number of participants. How would your professor even have known of my friend? He was a loner." Tusserk smiled at Lucky as they both mentioned the same thing at once.

Silveressa smirked at the notion, "Simple, he wouldn't have, and even if he did, you were in a different apartment, not participating in the game, er ceremony, so there's no way she's right on that aspect alone."

"If we had poofed into existence there would be no lady Kefka to escort, or Clodo to know of us being hired, she was trying to deceive us, but to what end?" Lucky questioned them, wagging his tail in indecision.

"Lady Karkayla, Kefka was the villain from Final Fantasy six." Silveressa corrected him quietly with a wink.

"To send us after her swamp beast most likely." Tusserk stated matter of factly.

Lucky scratched himself behind the ear as he pondered the idea. "Most likely, and when we didn't play into it she promised us a cure for spider if we slay the beast."

"Or make us dependent on her for salvation, so she could bilk us for gold, magical goods and whatever else crossed her mind." Silveressa suggested with a shrug.

"I'm glad none of fell for it at least, a unified purpose is the only way we are going to make it in this land I think." Lucky responded happily.

"Time for a sidetrack question." Tusserk settled back against the log in a very non-monklike state of relaxation. "Have we discovered any of the rules to this game yet?

Lucky shook his head, "It pretty open ended, I think the plot disappeared when we appeared here."

"Plots can vanish in an instant. Hell plots rarely survived the opening scene and the world became an open world game when I would run them." The monk countered.

"Hmm," The elven woman pondered a moment, "The professor seemed to be making it all up as he went along, are we assuming the world is a pocket dimension of his minds own creation? Or coincidentally he was describing a parallel world, slash alternate reality?"

Lucky bobbed his head in agreement with Tusserks statement, "It sure feels like an open world, I think the plot died when Lady Kerrigan did."

"Karkayla, Kerrigan was from Starcraft." Silveressa said off handedly.

"Whatever," The Dire wolf pressed on, "The world feels too detailed to be his half assed creation, I'd guess alternate reality?"

"Lovely..." Tusserk stared at the stars above as he thought. "Even a hodge podge world has rules though. I am in a human body, does that mean I can dual-class if I spend an entire level not using any monk abilities? Can you and the cleric multiclass and level even slower as you raise two levels at the same time? If there are no rules then why use a game of dungeons and dragons to facilitate the cerimony? Why not just kidnap you all and tie you up till the cerimony needed you?"

Silveressa scratched at her leg and drew a breath, "If it was a ceremony I think the professor would have wanted to be sober to carry it out, he was four sheets to the wind near the end there, Carly had to dial 911 for fear of alcohol poisoning," She chuckled briefly at the memory.

Tusserk held up a hand for forestall her statement, "I think something did go wrong, just not how the Alchemist described it. I think your professor wanted to bring you all here and I took the body that was reserved for him."

Lucky interrupted with a speculation of his own, "It could be we all died from some meteor strike or something and since we all were imagining the same alternate reality our spirits crossed over from the release of spiritual energy upon death pushing out the ones from here?"

Tusserk chuckled at Lucky. "Doubtful, I would be in either Valhalla, more likely Helheim, or just dead.

Silveressa nodded, "I think you're right Tusserk, maybe he wanted to set himself up as a king here or something? He was on the old and pudgy side, a new lease on life here with loyal friends might have been a ace on the line for him."

Lucky snapped at a fly and did his best canine attempt at a shrug. "You're probably right, the professor did seem a bit off that night, which is why I called the paramedics on him."

"What if this was his home to begin with? He traveled to earth to locate people he thought would be able to help him?" Tusserk proffered with a shrug.

"Hmm, a possibility, but help him to what end?" The ranger asked.

"Over throw whoever kicked him out of whatever wizard tower he came from?" Lucky offered eagerly.

"That could be, and he was specific on having Echo play a cleric, like it was predefined."
Silveressa clarified cautiously.

Tusserk gave a nasty grin as he sat up. "We could always go back and visit Clodo and his sage. The old man might know the professor if you describe him."

Silveressa nodded, "That's not a bad idea, we owe Clodo a bit of pay back as well," She clenched her gloved hands into fists briefly, "There was that entire army marching on his keep last we saw, by now they have annexed it, leaving it ripe for a coup d'etat?"

"They could have been marching past it too," Lucky added, "But once we own a keep, assuming we can convince Spiders monk pals and the villagers help us to take it of course, what then?"

Tusserk offered a lopsided grin at the question. "Simple, train a group of warriors to keep this from happening again. Monks, clerics, mages, fighters, thieves and rangers, all assembled to protect earth from lost souls being dragged here against their will."

Lucky's eyes widened a bit at the implications.

"With our military training and the groups earth know how we could train quite an effective army, with tactics and weapons the world has never seen." Silveressa agreed.

"Take the best of this worlds skills and magic and mate it with earths to create a unstoppable force for good in the realm?" Lucky gave them a toothy grin.

"And with the combined knowledge of the games we know what to keep an eye out for. Items of power, occurrences that even the magic's can't explain... stuff that will make a peasant run and hide." The monk continued, nodding at their ideas.

"Sounds reminiscent of the Harpers from the forgotten realms setting." Lucky clarified with lop tongued smile.

Silveressa nodded warming quickly to the idea, "We would have a decided advantage, and we have a more, shall we say, modern ideological concept of justice and equality, equal rights and such, that's sure to be popular with the peasantry."

"Not having to cringe under the boot heel of scum like Clodo is enough of a reason to approve of us." Lucky proffered in agreement.

Tusserk shook his head in a sharp motion, "Instant change would not be embraced. People, especially one that have lived as servants, would not know what to do. The society would collapse and a lot of people would die whether from raiders or starvation. There are also others lords, ladies, and kings that would see a free society as a threat."

Silveressa nodded, "You're right of course, We would need to bring about the change slowly, over decades."

Tusserk laid back against the log before continuing. "I am an old man back on earth, if I am correct then it was just my birthday and I am now thirty-nine years old so living in a body that is infinitely healthier and half my age... I doubt I will be going home if given the choice."

Silveressa gave a tight lipped nod, her mood sobering briefly, "Back on earth my own life expectancy was, is... limited, I turned thirty five this past august, according to the docs I'm not going to see thirty six back on earth, so I'm here to stay no matter what horrors await us, doubly so now I'm with child. With magic I'm pretty sure your human life span can be tripled at the very least., As for hers, sorry his," She gestured to Lucky, "I sense his life is tied to mine, so he will share my own elven lifespan, or at least a large portion of it."

Lucky gave Silveressa an affectionate look. "All the more reason I'm glad we're here lover." He sat on his haunches and lapped at a ruffled spot of fur on his paw before continuing. "I admit I miss opposable thumbs from time to time, and sharing the body with Lucky and Direwolf urges is difficult at times, but in this body I can train other Dire Wolves to be more effective, work paw in hand with humanity."

"Thumbs are over rated," Tusserk told the Dire wolf with a laugh, look at cats. They have no thumbs and rule over humanity."

Lucky chuffed in amusement. "You have a point, and I am growing to enjoy the freedom of running on four legs, and not having to dress myself every morning."

Tusserk smiled,: "A hot shower would be nice though. I am tired of the rain and the cold, the mist and fog. I want a blistering hot summer."

Lucky agreed with the flick of an ear, "A few less mosquitoes would be nice too, I'm tired of having my nose feasted upon."

"An important question remains, how do we go about convincing the rest of the group to go along with our concept?" Silveressa asked them quietly.

"Appeal to their demon possessed humanity?" Tusserk offered with a shrug. "I wonder if we can bend the rules here. Not outright break them like an Dwarven mage but bend them such as a human becoming a dual-class with only half a level instead of a full level."

"There is no glowing xp tracker next to our heads or health bar, I think we can learn whatever we wish as fast as humanly, or caninely possible." He proffered.

"I think we should suggest our new course of action after we have Spider cured of his stone toxin and are relaxing at the monastery? The monks may approve of us spreading their martial teachings and wish to have Clodo removed from their doorstep." Silveressa suggested.

Tusserk interjected, "As for the group, that depends on if they want to remain here on this world or return home. Those that wish to go home would most likely have to return before we close the world off with the knowledge that those that remain would be forced to finish the fight with less help."

Silveressa nodded "No one has spoken of wishing to return home as of yet, so I don't think any of them are overly concerned with it, also if you recall I mentioned that if the spirts from these bodies possessed ours they are likely in a jail cell or insane asylum by now, not a homecoming any of us want I think."

"Or being hunted for being awol... there goes over twenty years of service down the drain with any retirement." Tusserk added grimly.

Silveressa winced in sympathy. "Ouch, fort Leavenworth at the very least."

"There is also the matter of our original guild our characters worked for that gave us Lady Kiske's escort contract." Lucky said, the spark of the realization bringing a twinkle to his eye.

Silveressa: "Lady Karkayla, Kiske is from Guilty Gear." She corrected Lucky with an amused smile.

"Whatever." He growled, thrusting length of pink tongue in her direction in a human like expression of defiance.

Tusserk nodded as he continued to stare at the stars. "So did they sell you out or was the contract valid? I am thinking it was valid. Clodo knew where you would traveling from and to because he suggested the decoy. It would be easy for him to stage his men at certain inns to hunt you and her down."

"That would be my thought as well" The wolf agreed, "A guild would not get far if it regularly sold out its members."

"I'll mention our employer back in Blackton as well once we are safe at the monastery, no sense distracting everyone with it now while we are hunting down a dracolisk." Lucky told them, nodding to himself.

Silveressa agreed with a shake of her head, "Makes sense, everyone seems pretty focused on slaying the wrym at the moment, I just hope it's worth doing so under prepared."

"You're both the military brains of the group, break it down for us?" Lucky suggested quietly.

Silveressa: "When we reach the monastery we can make a convincing argument I'm sure."

Tusserk voice took on the practiced air of a long time soldier, "It is fighting on home terrain that it knows, never a fun consideration. It has an as of yet unknown range on its gaze attack. Unknown, besides high animal or dumb human, intelligence which could also be considered vicious and cunning predator intelligence." He looked Lucky and the ranger in the eyes for a long moment before continuing.

"Unknown other powers such as how tough is it, how strong, so on and so forth. If this world follows the rules of d and d then we can make assumptions on certain things but assumptions get total party kills."

"Unless you were talking about something else?" Tusserk offered with a grin.

"The Wyrm is what I was referencing." Lucky agreed, his mood suddenly serious.

"I remember it's gaze turns to stone permanently and instantly if you fail a charisma save, and I don't fancy my winning personality against a magic stone attack." Silveressa added with a wink.

"So does the gaze attack mean you have to look into it's eyes or does it just have to see you? I would most likely be the last to fall into stoney death... but that is just my luck." Tusserk added with smile.

"I can't recall," Silveressa said with a shrug, "I think it's eyes need to meet with yours for it to work?"

"Sounds like we should hold off until we have a better plan and equipment then?" Lucky asked them, his voice sounding hesitantly hopeful.

"That will mean letting Spiderheart suffer and ultimately die, turning to stone, are we okay with that?" The ranger asked them softly.

Tusserk frowned at the thought. "I am not comfortable with him suffering but how do we fight something that we do not know?"

"We can bring back Spider from stone after the fact, he also told us not to fight the dragon and head right for the monastery instead." Lucky said thoughtfully.

"Turning him back to flesh from stone may not restore him to life if he died before stoning all the way, but I think a low level lightning spell and CPR would do the trick to kick start him again, failing that a resurrection scroll never hurts." The ranger agreed.

"We'll need to convince the rest of the group to turn back then if we all agree?" Lucky asked them.

"To the monastery then." Tusserk's statement held a tone of finality to it.

"Echo tends to be a driving force of reason, her will as a cleric is... Swaying, I'll speak to her in private tomorrow at some point, see if can't guide her to the same conclusion we all have reached?" Lucky asked, looking to Silveressa for permission.

Silveressa gave a quick shake of her head, "I'll speak with her, she is my sister, and romantic companion in this world after all, and a trusted friend when we were on earth, I should be able to bring her around, if she doesn't come up with the idea on her own, she's not military, but she has the discipline of a soldier and the pragmatism of a scientist."

"Once we have taken the keep as our own, how shall we rule it? As a council?" Lucky turned about and lay back down, his eyes glowing embers where they caught the flickering light of the fire.

"Good question, unfortunately as a non-commissioned officer I have no answer to this one." Tusserk interlaced his fingers behind his head and grew quiet in thought.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Silveressa countered, "When the time comes we can work something out, most of us will be too busy training others to sit on a throne, perhaps we can appoint some reagent? Maybe Clodo's advisor."

"You're with child, in a few months you won't be able to get out of your tent without help, let alone train soldiers." Lucky reminded her with a wolfish grin, "You can be the public face for our rule, and behind the scenes all of us reach a consensus on things, so as not to spook the peasantry with the idea of a parliament or democratic discussion."

Silveressa laughed softly, "I'd nearly forgotten that aspect of pregnancy, well if everyone else agrees, but only as a temporary measure, I'm not about to help oust one dictator only to replace him with another."

"We'll sort it out when the time comes," the Dire wolf said, "Gyma and Celesia may have some insight as well, this is their world, they know how people expect a kingdom to be governed."

"I don't think that Celesia thinks very highly of the group." Tusserk cautioned.

"She is only with us to slay the wyrm I think, one of us should make an attempt at getting to know her, help her realize we're not as strange and unapproachable as she probably thinks." Silveressa clarified.

"We did treat the alchemist rather poorly, that may have colored her perception of us." Luck said, burying his nose in his tail and closing his eyes briefly.

"I offered to pay for the window, the little floaty thing even almost took my money." Tusserk said in disagreement to Lucky's observation.

"Us the rude ones?" Silveressa looked at Lucky in genuine amusement. "She sat Mystic on fire and offered to abort my child, whom she referred to as crotch fruit, she's lucky I didn't force feed her an arrow at some point! And yes, Tusserk even offered to pay for the damages, wise tactical choice knocking out the window so as not to block our entrance way by the way."

"Mabe she sniffs mercury for fun..." The monk suggested half jokingly.

"I'd bet my tail she had foul plans for Wilem, to refer to our baby as unwanted crotch fruit in one breath then offer to look after Wilem in the next?" He shook his head, "The woman is clearly brain damaged."

Silveressa shrugged in indifference, "Either way we should tread carefully next time we meet her, send in one or two people to fetch Spider while the rest wait outside and surround her place in skirmish line with overlapping fields of fire and engagement zones, that way if there's trouble we won't fall victim to an area effect attack, or be tripping over one another in melee."

"Mystic and me then, unless Gyma has Tensor's Floating Disc in his spellbook." Tusserk said with a firm nod.

"The monks know her, they may be able to retrieve Spider without fuss? She is less likely to upset her truce with the monastery and it will deny her an opportunity to further attempt to manipulate us." Lucky suggested thoughtfully.

"We'll need a cart too, at least we have a horse to pull it." Silveressa added as an after thought.

"That sounds like the most reasonable suggestion." Tusserk agreed, "The monks, not the cart."

"I knew what you meant my friend." The ranger said with a grin.

"It feels good to have a plan." Lucky said with yawn.

"I should get some sleep." Tusserk stood and offered a nod to his companions. "Enjoy the watch."

"Sleep tight, don't let the swamp bugs bite." Lucky quipped with a wink.

"Only when mosquito land on testicles does one learn violence not solve all problems." The monk retorted, his voice taking on an brief oriental accent.

Silveressa burst into a brief fit of laughter, nearly spilling her tea as she did so. "Monk humor, what a long boorish trip it would be with out you, I'm glad to have you with us my friend." She gave him a warm smile as he headed for his bed roll, staring up at the night stars and sighing contentedly, searching for constellations.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#618

Mystic had exhausted his explorations of the cave. The loot was nice, especially the artistic mace. Looked like a good backup weapon, might even replace his short sword.

But… it bothered him that this whole scenario was going down differently than he'd imagined it in his head. There'd be a brave facing off of man against beast; Headtaker's conviction combined with Myst's strength would give him the power to come out the victor.

And where could the beast be? Was that d**ned alchemist wrong? Had it moved lairs? Did they do that knid of thing? Was it just out hunting? Maybe it would come back full and sluggish…

He doubted that he'd be that lucky. Still, an empty lair was an opportunity to prepare.

Myst began rearranging the statues, pushing and pulling on them to form a partial barrier of sorts near the entrance. If he could rig it just right to trap the beast once it wandered in… Maybe he wasn't so dead after all.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#619

For some time, she waited, patient beneath the slimy depths of her befouled pool. Yet, no human exited her lair. She could out-wait the interloper, it was true, but she was weary; thus, she decided to investigate. A lazy flick of her tail propelled the primordial creature forward through the muck until she reached the portal of her cave. Once she breached the surface and pulled herself up into the entrance, she gave a flick of her palsied wings, spattering fat droplets of water and slime against the rocks. Inward, she loped.

Though a beast of great size, she trod with the deftness of a stalking feline, her six legs distributing weight to dampen noise and minimize the crumbling of scattered stone at her feet. The cave was not massive, so it wasn't long before she reached the inner sanctum, only to find the entrance somewhat blocked by some half a dozen heavy stone figurines. The silent wails from their twisted, crumbling mouths screamed in her head - memories of language which played on the fringes of her mind. Why did she keep the statues around? Because some atrophied, ignored part of her mind refused to destroy them; indeed, it sought kinship with these figurines - these... reminders of life, society, language. Sentience.

Rage bubbled into her head. She did not like these alien thoughts which so often ran, unbidden in her bestial mind. They confused and frightened her. She very nearly swiped the line of statues away with her clawed forehand, but caught herself - the hunt was more important for now. There was someone unwelcome in her bed, and this needed to be remedied.

Quietly, slowly, She slid her head and elongated neck around and above the statues, peering inside for signs of intrusion.

May the dice gods be with you, Myst.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#620

Meanwhile at the monastery...

Blast! It wasn't going to be a monastery full of zombies apparently.

Dressed in robes the colors of the swamp, out stepped three men with shaven pates, and regarded Echo and Celsia with unreadable expressions.

"Greetings travelers. Welcome. We have been expecting you." Said the one, who looked not unlike the other two.

The trio then glanced beyond the Elven priestess and the Myrrikhan at the others. "Yes" began the second, "Ever since the Spiderheart had left to consult with the elves and find you, we have assumed the fates would have you visit."

"But where is Brother Spiderheart?" The third asked.

"Brother," the first interjected, "Let us welcome them in and offer succor. Then after regale them with question. They have a weary look to them."

The monks motioned for the group to enter the monastery grounds. For a change, no one raised a ruckus over Lucky entering a "civilized" establishment. The monks did not even bat an eye at the ferocious looking creature. So there was that at least.

Something miraculous seemed to be happening here. They were being invited inside to rest, recover, eat, and drink... first time that had ever happened in this world so far.

Not a Dracolisk, needleman, or conniving castellan in sight!

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#621

"I hope there's a chance for a hot bath at least, we should sure it." She commented to no one in particular, feeling oddly ill at ease with the unexpectedly hospitable surroundings and not needing to keep an eye out for danger. "I think perhaps it would be best if you let them know of Spiderhearts predicament Tusserk given you have more common ground with them and are his friend, like we discussed around the camp fire the other night, they probably are best suited to retrieve him."

She slug her bow across her back and kept a gentle grip on Wilem's hand, grateful the boy had remained unharmed so far. "Willow Ufgood would be either singing us praises or doing an atomic face palm right about now." She told Lucky with a grin, the feeling of responsibility, (and growing affection,) towards the child both a burden and ray of hope in the swamp of veiled horrors.

"We still don't know what happened outside, so keep an ear bent for signs of trouble, and sniff the food for toxins before taking your fill." She cautioned him, the warm safe seeming surroundings putting her initially on edge. "After sleeping on a bed roll for so long I fear a bed may be more luxury than I can handle at this point."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#622

"Spiderheart has been affected by a petrifying poison, and, unable to carry him here, we were forced to leave him at the alchemist's cottage, to the north. He bade us to come to the monastery; I certainly shall work on the means of his restoration, but lack the capacity to do so as of today."

Echo petted Lucky then, asking the most important question - they apparently still haven't found out who's a good boy. The scientist community is baffled. "Sniff everybody's food while you're at it."

"Regarding questions - you have noticed there are unburied people who were beaten to death, just a few scant yards in that direction? I can perform the rites, if you would welcome such service."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#623

Lucky chuffed in amusement, a typical canine whine/growl mixture filling the air as he panted contentedly, licking Echo's hand happily. "I can only sniff what they put near my nose," He replied to the priestess, trusting those worried about the integrity of their food would have the forethought to offer him a share. "I think there's enough of them if they sought us harm they would be done with it with thrown spears or daggers so we should be safe enough." The memory of Game of Thrones and the fatal wedding party swept through his mind and he cringed involuntarily.

"Then again John Snow probably thought the same, we should keep on guard just in case."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#624

"A hot bath, yes, most assuredly."

------

"We do not bury our dead, priestess. We let the swamp envelop us into itself. It is our way, for unlike you, we worship no gods but nature, and its relentless cycles."

Echo raised a brow. Could it be possible? Some decent conversation in this world of barbary and muck?

At the news of Spiderheart, one of the monks lowered his head. "He knew it would be dangerous when he went to seek those in his dreams."

"Elven basilisk-milk." Uttered another. "A horrible way to die. The alchemist you mention in the Vast has developed a reversal antidote, it is said, but she is fickle. Our erstwhile Grandmaster would know of a cure as well, but alas..."

----

Cautiously the companions followed the monks inside the monastery grounds. Before long they were given rooms. Small, stone, and austere, with hard cots for beds, but rooms nonetheless.

----

Free of her by now filthy armor and clothing, for the first time in weeks, Silveressa exhaled and lowered her head beneath the water of the well-like stone pool of warm, bubbling, mineral-rich water. She emerged, body tingling, the contours and curves of her perfect elven form, glistening, in the evening air.

She opened her eyes, completely relaxed, only to notice a monk admiring her form a distance. As soon as he was spotted he bowed his head and shuffled off, embarrassed.

She felt an acute pain in her belly for a moment, but then it passed. A kick already?

----

They were given warm bread, bowls of lentils, and some kind of long-boiled bird-like swamp creature. Better not to ask.

----

"You have come at an inauspicious time. We have lost our Grandmaster of Flowers. He has completely, simply, and utterly vanished...like your goddess" he said, looking at Echo, as he scooped another spoon of lentils into his mouth.

A few of the companions were dining with the monks an hour later, while others were bathing, and yet others, wandering the stone keep. The monks allowed the group free reign.

No toxins to be smelled. Lucky was given a haunch...of something. Mostly bone, but good. Full of hidden marrow. No red wedding this.

And good thing too, Robb's wolf had been shot full of crossbow bolts, in that one.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#625

Mystic waited for the thing to stick its neck through, having left only enough room for that. With a mighty shove, he forced the pile next to the entrance over, causing it to avalanche upon the beastie.

(15:17:01) Minion: MysticMoon rolls 2d6 and gets 5,4.
9 damage

While the thing was stunned, he grabbed up headtaker and swung, though after all the waiting and the dimness and dust in the air he swung wild and missed.

(15:17:08) Minion: MysticMoon rolls 1d20 and gets 3.

Still, the thing would have to struggle to move, and odds were he'd get in at least one more swing before it could get to him.

(15:17:16) Minion: MysticMoon rolls 1d10 and gets 9
+2 for the situation, plus whatever other init bonuses I have.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#626

"That can't be a very tradition," said Valadaar quietly to the nearest of his companions, "I guess they haven't heard of dysentery. I'd avoid drinking the water if they think this is a good idea."

With his freedom, he cleaned himself, using water he boiled himself down by half. Then he took to snooping around, being half-stealthy, not wishing to look too obviously sneaking.

"Must be the Lawful neutral or Evil type monks" he thought to himself. Their blase reaction to the deaths made it hard to believe otherwise.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#627

Greeted by the monks, the frosted warrior-woman bowed low, though her eyes remained up, her right fist wrapped in her open left hand, a gesture of deep respect. "We thank you for your welcome - When we saw the bodies of your brothers, we worried that you might need our aid in fending off their attackers." As the burial was explained, Celsia nodded once, in understanding. "May they know the embrace of the waters, and find peace in the unknowable depths." It had the sound of ritual benediction to it, her voice quiet, yet convicted.

As the conversation progressed, she added, simply, "The Alchemist has need of the flesh and tooth of a dracolisk for her cure. I have need of its death, but as mentioned, it is somewhat beyond us at the moment." For a moment, there was something deep down in the tones of her quiet, level voice, but shortly, it glassed over, and was still.

As the group began to wander the monastery, she took the time to perform what small ablutions she needed to be clean, before heading down to eat, which she did but sparingly, picking at the bread and lentils, though she drank heavily of water, and when the grandmaster was spoken of, she listened intently, her head tilted and her cold eyes attentive. Aliens from there to here. Powerful beings leaving here, and going... there? A connection had to be there. "When, Brother?"

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#628

With a shriek of surprise and pain, the Dracolisk found itself bombarded with hunks of stone and rubble, jarring its head to the ground with a solid pounding. Scraped and grazed, the draconian horror struggled to make sense of the situation, just as the metallic *tang* of metal striking rock sounded, not more than a few inches from her head.

Fury overwhelmed her senses. This interloper was going to try and slaughter HER!? Using her own figurines and environment against her?! INSOLENT!

With a flutter of her tattered wings and a flick of her neck, she burst through what remained of the stone blockade, sending rubble flying, and finally saw her unwelcome guest for the first time. A beast of a man, with a fearsome weapon that whispered sweet bloodlust even in her mind. A snarl escaped from between the predator's acid-laden fangs and she rose swiftly onto her hind legs before bearing down directly on top of the human!

See rolls below.

Down she thrashed, deep rents slicing into the intruder's forearms as she gripped like a vice onto them. pushing heavily against his torso with one of her middle arms, she bore her entire draconian weight onto his body, toppling him over onto the rocky floor.

A low hiss escaped her mouth as she leered closely over MysticMoon's face. droplets of sickly crimson blood and flecks of acid oozed onto the stone around his face; little trails of smoke arising as they corroded into the very stone. From this distance, MysticMoon could see that several of her teeth were chipped and cracked from the force of the avalanche he had caused.

The other thing MysticMoon could see was that her head was shaking faintly as though with barely restrained fury. Quite simply, she was pissed.

Initiative of 4 or lower required to attack first. 5 to attack simultaneously.
Initiative: (13:08:49) Minion: Shadoweagle rolls 1d10 and gets 3.
Attacking with 2x claws, and foregoing bite attack. Attempting to grapple/pin to the ground. If both claws hit (roll 10+) = pinned.
(13:14:24) Minion: Shadoweagle rolls 1d20 and gets 18.
(13:14:44) Minion: Shadoweagle rolls 1d20 and gets 15.
Foregoing bite attack.
(13:14:33) Minion: Shadoweagle rolls 1d6 and gets 5.
(13:14:55) Minion: Shadoweagle rolls 1d6 and gets 5.

10 damage total. Pinned to the ground.
If you want to attempt to break free, a 14+ is needed, Myst.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#629

"A mystery my lady," A monk answered Celsia, truth be told, he had not taken his eyes off her peculiar beauty, in between spoonfuls of lentils. "The Grandmaster of Flowers adjourned into meditation, over a week ago. A week went by, this was not unusual, he would often seek solitude within the stone walls. But when a fellow Brother went to fetch him for certain ritual, his room was empty, with no signs of him."

Some of the other monks gave the speaker looks, but he seemed oblivious, basking in this woman's temporary attention. These men did not get out much.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#630

"Mm. The timing?" This question, Celsia floats to the aliens among her companions, wondering if the vanished man and Goddess could be connected to their arrival in some fashion.

The stares of the monks were easy enough for her to ignore, while supping. Usually, she found, they were more pointed than this.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#631

Sitting himself as close to the most senior looking monk, Tusserk started in on the meal.

“Spiderheart’s condition would not have seen him get to the monastery, he was poisoned in the upper arm and it had already spread to his shoulder by the time we regrouped. It had nearly reached his chest by the time we had reach the Alchemist.” Tusserk finished his lentil soup before continuing. “The time to travel here would have left him a statue in the swamp to be lost for ages.”

“The monks we came across, they had bruises but hardly enough marks to suggest a fight to the death. If I may ask, were they killed with the same technique that Spiderheart uses? The ability to strike from a distance and inflict pain or even death with a mere brush of a finger?” Tusserk watched the older monks as he asked his question. “Is it possible that their deaths are tied in with the disappearance of the Grand Master of Flowers? They have been dead for roughly three days and the Grand Master vanished sometime within the week.”

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#632

Mystic laughed.

It wasn't a laugh that could be called humorous, or amused, or anything that would be mistaken as sane. Just like the time he'd been throat-punched by the trailer-park tweaker as a youth, he lost his composure in a fit of mad giggles.

"I am so fucked. I get into this body, and it is so strong, and I started to think that no one would ever be able to push me around again. But... there's always someone stronger, isn't there? And now Spiderheart is well and truly dead, and, well, so am I, I guess.

"You'd think I'd be more afraid, you know? Like 'voiding my bowels' level of terror. But I'm not.

"If you could grant me one boon, you Beautiful Bitch of a Beastie, would you eviscerate my corpse well and good, and place it outside your lair as a warning to others? I don't want my fr... I don't want anyone thinking they could take such a creature as yourself. I was mad for even thinking it."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#633

The following was written by Silveressa and Lady Wolf in g docs then posted here after editing.

Silveressa relaxed in one of the upper balconies, running a brush through Lucky's recently washed fur and keeping a watchful eye on Wilem as he played with his wooden figures near by in the last rays of the setting sun. "Not the cheeriest of welcomes, but a sight better than the ones we've received so far in this land, even if they weren't overjoyed to see us they at least aren't eager to run us through with spears."

Her thoughts drifted to the brief pain she felt in her stomach, she'd only been pregnant a week or two at the most, their child wouldn't be much more than a near microscopic bundle of cells at this point, more likely it was indigestion, or the complaints of sore muscles from the hard traveling of late, still something to keep an eye on, she mentioned it to Lucky, as she held up a tuft of shedded fur for the breeze to carry off, his look of alarm making her pause in surprise.

"Thant could be a symptom of an ectopic pregnancy, where the egg winds up fertilized in a Fallopian tube or ovary, I saw a case come through the E.R once, without surgery it's generally fatal." He turned to regard her with his piercing blue eyes for a long moment, "If you have any bleeding, dizziness, pain in the neck or rectum, let me know and I can speak with Echo about possible treatments." He sighed and rested his head on his paws giving her a worried look.

"Relax lover, it was a very brief pain, likely indigestion from the mixture of swamp animals and plants we've been eating, or some intestinal parasite I picked up along the way, I'll speak with the monks tonight at supper about a vermifuge tea of wormwood Black Walnut, and Quassia Bark, they should have most of the ingredients necessary, and when we reach Blackton I'll seek out an elven midwife and see if I can get some kind of charm to wear that will ensure a complication free pregnancy." She reassured him, adding in a brief hug. "Come, the monks will have their evening meal prepared by now, I'd prefer we not miss it."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#634

Christ, did it even have a clue what he was saying?

With a mighty shove, Mystic heaved the claws from him, rolled to the side, got up, and ran like hell.

MysticMoon rolls 1D20 = 17

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#635

"Now what?" the first growled

"Shut up, hear that?" the second replied

"What? Wait, now I do. The whole cave is shaking! Who do you think is winning?"

"I don't know, I am here with you. Now shut up, I'm thinking!"

"We should have followed the others. Our bounties are the elves."

"When this one went off on his own to slay a bloody dracolisk, I knew we should follow. Pick off the loser, make off with the loot."

"So what are we doing exactly?"

"Shut up and follow me. Let's take a peek. Ready your rope, I'll make us invisible. And do be quiet."

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#636

The words Mysticmoon spoke appeared to be incomprehensible to the beast that leered over him - in fact, they appeared only to anger her further. With a snarl she snapped her jaws down, only to clack loudly in the air as the burly man prised himself free from her grasp and made a dash for the exit.

The primal terror flung around with a haste that belied her size and gave chase. It would be a simple thing to end this pest now; with a great inhalation, she opened her maw wide; a bubbling and gurgling sound echoed from her throat...

She suddenly snapped her mouth shut and slowed pursuit, instead raising her nostrils. The taste of something unwelcome was in the air. More of these gnats! Two... Three of the humankind and one smell which was altogether unfamiliar to her, all laying in wait in the direction they ran. A trap! Set up by this first human, no doubt!

She had been alive for many decades, and she had done so by utilising caution. Thus, she allowed Mysticmoon to gain some small distance and followed.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#637

The following was written by Siren & Silveressa in Google docs then posted here after editing.

A couple days earlier on the trail towards the Dracolisk lair...

Far out in front of the rest of the group, as they slogged through the muck and mire, ranged both Silveressa and Celsia, the latter paying special attention not to the scattered creatures that they shared the trek with, but rather, to the land and water itself. By some instinct alone, Celsia marked those spots where the mire was great enough to sink in, tapping the soil of safety with briefly lasting marks of frost - enough to keep the others from foundering, difficult to trace for long. She was silent as she moved, her eyes fixed forwards, that cold expression upon her face.

“You seem less than thrilled to have all of us along for company if you’ll pardon the observation.” She gestured back towards the direction the rest of the group was in, keeping an eye out for possible game and other living dangers.

Stooping for a moment to draw a line of caution before a channel, Celsia’s cold eyes turned towards the Elven ranger. “I have seen how you repay those who offered you aid.”

“And missed seeing how we risked our lives to save Wilem from a troll, without asking for any compensation, nor expecting any, a man asked for our aid and we gave it without reservation, his death was the fault of his horse and a outcropping of stone.” She closed her eyes at the unpleasant memory.

“We could have left his son to fend for himself in the wilds, or offloaded him upon the first person we met that was willing to take him, but instead we care for him as if he was our own rather than trust his well being to chance, so do not think us heartless because we see things differently,”

“Heartless - no. Ignorant, and unwilling to look, yes.” Celsia pursed her lips together for a moment, her own eyes far away. If there was any who knew… Well. “You take him as your own, yet you bring him into the heart of the danger. You lash out, and you do not understand at what you lash at.”

She nodded, “I do not bring him by choice I assure you, but leaving him in the care of someone I trust has yet to be a possibility, as for the danger we are all about to lash out at, I do have my reservations, however finding a way to speak them in a manner that others will listen to is taking some time to work out.”

“If you mean the beast, that is not what I mean. Your burned friend - I did not see all of it, but he was infested with what seemed to be a slime. Without that fire, he had about ten minutes of life remaining.”

“The setting of him on fire may have been necessary, but it is generally customary to apologize when doing something so rash, and what others would see as hostile, offering to abort ones child is, where I come from, perhaps one of the gravest insults you can deliver to someone, depending on their beliefs anyway, so you might say she made a poor impression on us.”

“You are not from here - and that is why I call you ignorant. I do not know what your world is like, but look at where you are. At what you are going. You will bear that child for more than a year, elf. If it lives to be born. If you live for it to be born. This is why she offered. Consider that it was made in compassion, for you, and for any children you might be able to bear in the future, not in anger.” For a moment, she stopped walking and marking the path, considering something. Her icy eyes melted for a moment, almost in sympathy. Children were something that she would never bear, for more reason than one. Her eyes darted about, before she reached to the ties of her armor, lifting the front away, hiking up the padding beneath, showing three round scars in a perfect line across her chest, just beneath the ribs. “Protect yourself well, elf.”

Silveressa’s eyes widened at the unexpected display of old injuries and she nodded solemnly. “Had she not referred to my baby as crotch fruit,” her voice held the unmistakable derision for the term, “Then perhaps I would have been more receptive to her message, it is generally in poor taste to referring to someone’s offspring in such a manner, more so if they bear the news the woman cannot bring it to term.”

She sighed and shook her head, “I am willing to risk my life for the child, back where I come from childbirth is not possible for me either, so it is not something I would let go of lightly, not before getting a second opinion from another healer at the very least, perhaps an elven one that better understands our bodies.”

Resealing her protection, Celsia shook her head, slowly. “It is your profession that made her offer, elf.” Turning back to the swamps, she began to ford her way forwards once more. “You will be cut, shot, burned. You will force march, and you will starve from time to time. It is what happens to us when we sell our swords, for money or for faith.”

She nodded, “That is true for the moment, however we do have other goals, perhaps the claiming of a keep and settling down for a time, though we may have inherited the bodies of adventurers, few of us from our world were the adventuring sorts, we were what you would call laborers, townsfolk, wizards after a fashion for some of us, what our world called scientists.”

Stopping once more to mark a treacherous channel, Celsia frowned, dipping one hand deep into the water, drawing out a shard of worn stone, its furrowed surface deeply scored. Petrified flesh. The beast’s range was significant, it seemed. “You were who you were. Here, it only matters that you can learn to survive. And quickly.”

She nodded, gesturing to Lucky who trailed behind them, sniffing at the ground, “Some of us have the benefit of animal instinct to guide us, others of us have our own experience in survival from our world to fall back on, we have been managing well enough so far.” She paused and smiled briefly, “In my world they had a saying, that nature was a hash teacher, she often gave the test first, and the lesson after, I expect the same hold true to for this land.”

“She does. At least one of you has already failed it. Learn faster.” Celsia fell silent then, looking upwards, to watch what scraps of sunlight there were, and the motion of the clouds. The prevailing winds generally came from the west. Generally. But there were always variations. Better to trust the thin currents of the swamp.

“That’s why we are all glad to have you and Gyma travelling with us, we know painfully well we are outsiders here, and are somewhat struggling to find our way, we even seem to have inherited some odd cult as our enemies as well, they are the ones that poisoned Spider and Mystic with the stone ichor.“

She paused to raise her bow and quickly loose an arrow, impaling a brightly colored bird where it pecked at bugs beneath a near by bush, nodding to herself in satisfaction. “Not knowing who is friend and who is foe makes our travels all the harder, and perhaps why we reacted so poorly to the alchemist, she did not exactly shower us with a warm welcome and give us cause to see her as a trustworthy person with her choice of words and mannerisms..”

“The Badger of the swamp lives where she does to evade those who would make demands of her. But her heart is not without kindness.” A small shrug, and Celsia continues, “She has given to me a measure of safety for Wilem. And my sword will escort you for so long as my Mistress desires. There are, of course, other tasks she has sent me to accomplish. I will complete them, one way or another.” There is a firm conviction beneath her voice, as inexorable as the glaciers.

“What other tasks if I may ask? Depending on our travels our goals may overlap more than is first apparent.” She bent to retrieve the bird and her arrow, tying it by the neck to her belt after pulling a leather pouch around the animal to keep its blood from leaving a trail.

“The Lady and her siblings are the balance of the world. I am her one of her servants in maintaining that balance. Here, that balance is tipped by a creature of stone squatting in a spring wherein her power seeps out into the waters of the world. I am to drive it off, and purify the source.” A small frown on her face, and she shakes her head. “It will take more than I can bring to bear now, I fear. But in time, it will be provided.”

She nodded in agreement, “The wyrm is beyond our skill to defeat currently, but with better equipment and a less eager approach we can use tactics and our intellect to our advantage to defeat the otherwise impossible foe, similar to how we slew the troll, not by force of steel and strength of arm, but by cunning and an unexpected strategy.”

“It will be provided.” The faith was there, clear and deep. “Perhaps your sages will find what they can use here, from what they knew there. Perhaps we will find those with more strength than us to assist. It is hard to say. I will keep my eyes open. I suggest you do as well.”

She nodded in agreement, “If you know of a skilled midwife, or Elven healer with knowledge of inter-species pregnancy, I would appreciate being pointed in the right direction, but until such time I plan to keep my eyes and ears open for any who may be able to aid us in our travels.”

“Those I know… are far away.” Over the seas, in fact, thought the frozen knight. “First, this journey.”

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#638

At first, Mystic ran straight back toward the camp he'd left, looking over his shoulder a few times as he did so. Reconsidering, and wishing to avoid the certain ire of his companions, he veered off toward whatever offered the best cover he could find.

He was tired, sore, injured, and seriously examining some key life choices.

They'll never let me keep this now, I can't trust them not to take it from me, and I refuse to use it on them, he thought, digging a long trench and burying Headtaker within it. I'll come back for you when we return for that 'lisk. For a moment, he could not make himself let go of the thing to place it within. He had no real options, though, other than abandoning the others and sriking out on his own, which he was certainly not prepared for.

At least I have this, he thought, feeling the heft of the artistic mace in his hand.

With that done, he returned to the old campsite, to find it abandoned. For a moment, self-pity overwhelmed him and tears stained his cheeks. They'd left him behind.

Fool, they knew your chances all along. They've probably decided I've done the same as Scras and Dozus and permamently wandered off or gotten killed.

Where to now? The Alchemist. He shivered in remembrance of the flames. No, definitely the monastery.

He was tired, and he desperately wished for sleep, but he could not risk being caught by the dracolisk alone. He set out, placing his trust in the great constitution of this new body.

Re: Guardians of the Citadel

#639

Stumbling and splashing, he ran out of the fetid cave. He could hear the beast behind him. Why wasn't it attacking? Then he heard something else, but couldn't identify the sound.

Making his way along the edges of the foul dark-green pool, figuring out his next move, trying to ignore the fact that the dracolisk could spray his backside with acid at any moment now, the giant warrior finally reached the abandoned camp. He slowed to think, and felt himself falling...asleep?

"What the--??!" Was his last thought before drifting off. He plopped down into the muck and into dreamland. (Roll involved)

"Now the powder! Then your rope! Hurry up before the swamp-dragon takes an interest in us. Move, move, move!" Mystic dreamed someone saying, then all went black as something large, furry and ugly began to man-handle his prone body.

Somewhere nearby, the dracolisk floated silently beneath the muck, only its nostrils and eyes above the water. Like a crocodile spying on a few stupid wildebeests.