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OOC: everyone seems to have forgotten him so I thought I'd bring him back ;)
<font color="cc3399"> Outside the Tower Enraged by the puny black dragon he had just slaughtered, and by the impertinence of the Paladin who stole his treasure the dragon Balagos searched the tower for a way to penetrate the defenses, the stone would prove no match for his draconic strength, strength of limb that defied the ability of mortals to comprehend let alone defend against. However he had other plans, and such an overt display of power was not to his liking, it only prepared the fools he would destroy and gave them a few more moments to run. No they would die slowly and without a chance to run. The treasures of his lair, such as countless mithril coins and many gems were pressed into his mithril-like scales closing and sealing any holes that might have been in his hide, his rage was like the fury of a hurricane, a force of nature you could only hope to flee from, and not stand against. He circled the tower twice more building speed before he saw the shattered bulk of the black dragon twitching. The mountain of fiery scales was upon the barely breathing lesser wyrm in seconds tearing it apart and soon he devoured it's heart, taking a measure of it's power into himself. Yes he decided the arrogant fools would all suffer greatly, he thought as he heard the cry of pain, and knowing it was the knight who had taken his precious stone, the corners of his snout turned up in a very evil smile, the others would all utter such screams before he released them to death. </font> [ 05-03-2002, 03:30 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ] |
[img]graemlins/saywhat.gif[/img]
<font color=gold>Note about the Tower of Shadow... It was created by the design of a Demi-God moderator, and draws it's strength from two sources. One is the demi-plane of shadow that contains its own source of magical essence. The Goddess Shar created this to rival Mystra and her magical weave that everyone is familiar with. The power that keeps the fortress standing is not from the demi-plane of shadow. It is a surprise that will be revealed in due time. ;) Hence...it is not going to just fall down by the might of one dragon, nor can it be breached by anything from Mystra, because that was part of Shar's construction and defence. Cyril's PC was able to do it, because his Goddess is not Mystra, nor does she lend him the magic to control the winds! </font> [ 05-03-2002, 05:59 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ] |
Quote:
For reference, these are Cyril's gods:</font> </font>
_________________________________ <font color=skyblue>Come for me, now...you that makes arrows to slay me. You who hides in the mists while I have your two messengers hostage. They will not leave the dungeon alive, and it will be upon your brow...for you sent them to me alone. Face me, Wind-maker. face me and your death, that this may be settled. Nobody opposes me in my forum.</font> <font color=teal>The words reach him as he finishes the arrow. They are harsh and blunt words that move through the air, thrusting it aside, rather than within it. ~ Much like the magic of this strange place – power and control are all that seem to matter. And what is not controlled is destroyed or thrust aside and ignored. ~ The Modding One’s words of challenge mean little for he is not so insecure as to be provoked by something so meaningless as a bellicose accusation of cowardice. The one called Larry threatens the lives of the women, however, and this cannot be ignored. It would be premature to name them his friends, but they have cast their lots with his and he will see them freed. This changes things greatly. Those who rushed to the attack have not lasted long against the One Who Mods and his own plans must now be changed that he might find them. ~ And by what right do I presume to think that I will fare any better against him? ~ Turning his eyes to the expansive and cloud filled heavens he opens his heart in wordless prayer to the Great Tented One, the Maker of limitless sky and the Father of Wind. He breathes deeply and looks out toward the small enclosed spaces of the tower and prepares himself for what is to come. He speaks then in a low voice, his words moving toward the tower through the wake left behind by the brutal passage of the Mage’s challenge. “I come. And when this is finished I shall walk away. I have seen the face of my death, but what of you, O Mage that Mods? Have you considered that death may perhaps have a face that it turns to you?”</font> [ 05-05-2002, 12:44 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ] |
(ooc: [img]smile.gif[/img] Sorry this took so long TAO.)
<font color=seagreen>~The half-elf coughs, inhaling sharply. The impact had saved her, but not left her unscathed. She rose to one knee, clenching her side and coughing fiercly. When the dust of the commotion had cleared, the golem lay dead. He was reduced to the stone he'd been summoned from. The ranger stood up slowly and picked up her scimitar from the ground. She eyed it once to make sure it was unbroken. Satisfied, she resheathed Ravenwood on her shoulder and the scimitar to her hip. The half-elf's eyes had returned to their normal grey-blue. She then trotted to TAO, nodding that they should go on. A bit of blood ran down a fresh, shallow cut on her cheek. She forced a weak smile, though tears sprang to her eyes from the new bruises on her abdomen. She then paused, lending a tapered ear to the howl echoing through the corridor.~ "Oh Larethian..." ~She clenched her weakened right fist.~ "That sounds like one of my wolves! I-..." ~She shook her head shortly, then gestured for TAO to follow as she began striding down the hall.~ "I can't tell which one... Come on! We've got to save them!"</font> |
OOC>>>Oh! You liked my observation on your character, eh Cyril??? :D
For reference to Spree and TAO...Nothing else impedes your pathway to the cells. When you actually get near Deiter, I will post about him. For now, let it suffice to say that he is clearly under-going a physical and mental change as he slowly is becoming undead. He will first attempt to attack but if he has a long clear look at Spree, he will recognize her, and stop. That is when I will post his stats and all. The wolf has not been harmed at this point. There is only two times that you must wait for me to post. 1. When Spree and Deiter meet. 2. After both cell doors have been opened. |
OOC>>>It's not my turn to post. Come on, yall! We are almost finished with this one, so we can leave it forever to collect dust in the archives!
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(OOC: I'd post, but I can't think of anything to post :( )
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<font color="cc3399">The dragon
After completing another pass and seeing the small and foolish madman who distracted the black Balagos ignored him, and began weaving an enchantment, those battling on the ground saw a large, even for a red, dragon shrink and his wings disapear into a much smaller form, it appeared to be a 7 foot human covered in short red hair, with reptilian eyes, and a pair of horns sweeping back from his forehead over his brow and came to a point in the back where they curled together, braiding themselves into a ponytail that hung at his back. his mighty claws reduced themselves to hands with elongated fingers ending in slim talons, his wings disapeared entirely into his back. The being that was once a dragon, flew down to the drawbridge and as teh moat began to churn and bubble, it exhaled heavily turning the fetid water into a steam cloud and the aquatic moat monster began to choke as it's lifegiving water disappeared. Unchallenged the draconian figure stalked into the tower of the one who mods, intent on reclaiming his treasure and destroying all who helped embarass him by having it get stolen. As he passed the lower levels of the tower he used his inborn abilities to discern the proper direction to reach the next higher level, destroying anything that moved with spells rarely seen in seven centuries. </font> |
<font color="skyblue">She takes off in a limping gait after Spree, wincing with each step. The glow in her eyes is dimmed slightly, but nonetheless still enough to make any human step back and take notice of the power imbibed within those silver eyes.
As they near a darkened section of the coridor, she yips softly at Spree and stops, staring at two doors. Slowly moving her gaze from one to the other, the bracer around her neck alternates between a fiery red and a soft glowing blue. The tilts her head at Spree and gazes at the door where her bracer shows red, indicating to her this is the "man" and the blue is the wolf. She softly gruffs with her breath in the direction of the blue glow, and is rewarded with an answering gruff..........</font> OOC:Sorry guys, work and the yard took me hostage for a few days :D but, I will be able to start posting again starting today. |
<font color=teal>Nothing commands attention quite like a dragon, those creatures of power and ego. This one, it would seem, is both more powerful and more in love with itself than most and even its attempt at subtlety has a florid boldness about it. It is a truly impressive creature and he watches a moment in spite of himself. It would in all likelihood be quite terrifying were it not for the fact that a far greater terror is to be found with the tower. The tower, yes, that is where he must go. He takes advantage of the theatrics of the dragon to move swiftly and unseen to the roof of the tower, a point still left undefended. The noise of the dragon’s entry rises upward along the winds and he smiles. Yes, this distraction will do quite nicely.</font>
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Neb, having decided to take a small nap as he was unable to find any intruders, was awakened by the sound of powerful spellcasting. He recognized the pattern of those spells.... A dragon! And an extraordinarily powerful one at that, he stood up and left the small storeroom that he'd slept in. Opening the door only a crack the sorcerer looked outside, the dragon was standing with it's back towards the door as it wiped out another guardian of the tower that stood in it's way.
He studied it's humanoid form, what should he cast? Dragons were pretty resistant to magic, more so than almost any other creature. Besides that it also had it's own arsenal of quite impressive spells.... Wait a second.... It was using spells to clear the way.... Neb grinned evilly and mentally commanded his familiar to ensure that it kept as close to the dragon as possible while the creature advanced. The Phileet's chaos aura would have some quite interesting effects on the dragon's spells, or so he hoped, they were quite powerful and the raw power behind them might be enough to override the chaotic presence.... He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind, made himself invisible, and silently hid near the dragon as it advanced further into the tower. Constantly awaiting the arrival of his familiar and preparing to dive for cover as one of the dragon's spells went Chaotic. |
<font color="cc3399">The dragon
As the dragon continues making his path of wanton destruction upwards and inwards, he smells something... strange, looking around he can't see anything, which is strange, this one must be very skilled to evade my vision, thinks the dragon, but no matter, eh doesn't smell of my hoard, and at the moment he's doing nothing but hiding, very well let the creature hide from me, it will not save him when I'm prepared to deal with him. The dragon begins mounting the second set of stairsand sees, nearly too late, a flashing tentacle, catches the transformed wyrm across teh chest, and stops stunned that it's attack did nothing more effective than slapping a stone wall (the dragon's shape may be different but his weight is the same). slim harmless looking claws soon dug into the tentacle ripping it out of whatever being it attached itself to, noting the tentacle hardening around his claws as it pulled free. at ;ast a suitable challenge thought the wyrm, as it crept forward looking for the main body of the bonespawn.</font> <font color="skyblue"> Phileet It heard his master calling him and it seemed urgent but the little guy was just too cozy on Larry's shoulder to go running through this big tower. with a sound halfway between a coo and a purr it rolled over and snuggled tightly against Larry's shoulder</font> OOC: hope I don't seem like I'm Ubering but Balagos is an ancient red wyrm, and there isn't a whole lot that could stand up to him in a fight, also his own arrogance comes through in his thoughts, he's not immortal, and can be killed, he just refuses to believe it. :D have fun stopping him guys :D :D |
OOC>>>I will let Neb play...My focus is in two other directions...and we're getting ready to see the shit hit the fan!
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Neb pondered what to do now that his familiar wasn't going to arrive. He probably couldn't beat the thing in physical combat, so his spells were his only chance, even though his foe was probably somewhat resistant to them. Unless....
Masked by his invisibility he snuck up on the dragon fighting the Bonespawn, with lightning speed he took a strip of cloth from one of his pocket, bound it around the dragon's head so that it covered it's eyes and then planted a kick in it's back that should send it stumbling towards the monstrous Spawn. It was a desperate plan, but with some luck the monster would weaken the dragon enough that he could dispatch it afterwards. Not bothering to see if his plan worked he turned and ran, not wanting to face any retaliation from the dragon if it hadn't.... |
<font color="cc3399">The dragon
Surprised by the boldness of the manling the dragon stumbled forward, blinded by a cloth, and wrapped in tentacles by the bonespawn he was dragged forward towards it's gaping maw. The lack of sight probably saved his sanity as he was drawn closer to the gibbering tentacled horror, he blasted with his extended breath-weapon hearing a sound not unlike slimy wood burning(the skeletons), the smell however was dificult to endure even for one as powerful as he, and he began to expand in size as his control of the shapechanging magic began to slip, sprouting a tail and becoming more like his true form, merely drastically smaller. The blindfold tore free and Balagos's renewed sight was rewarded with a creature of utter horror to mortals (not mighty wyrms however), he reacted as best he could, by hitting it with a spell of great power, a single syllable with the power to stun any being that heard it (a power word stun spell) the magical engery was released with his uttering and the bonespawn's grip slackened for a moment and the dragon prepared another spell, one that would turn the monster into a small rabbit.</font> <font color="skyblue">Phileet waking up sensing his masters desperation the phileet teleported to where his master had been and followed the clawmarks in the stone towards one of the big nasties Larry kept, he saw the bonespawn and the miniature dragon fighting and walked forward curiously, and watched as the mini-dragon became a rabbit</font> <font color="cc3399">The dragon As his spell finished the dragon felt well... strange, and furry, one never forgets the feeling of being furry, and the drago-bun didn't like it one bit, especially since he was now craving carrots instead of human flesh, but his spell had worked... as he looked at the large... well, larger bonespawn he twitched his nose, and realized something was horribly, horribly wrong.</font> |
Neb had gotten pretty far away from the battle without getting fried so he thought that perhaps the dragon had been devoured or horribly wounded by the bonespawn. Turning around to see what had happened he was first puzzled as to where the dragon was, then spotted the rabbit, his familiar heading towards him and remembered that he'd heard the dragon casting a spell as he fled.
Then he laughed. Calmly he sat down on the stone floor out of the reach of the Bonespawn's tentacles and watched to see what would happen to the dragon now. |
striding toward neb and smelling none too fresh was rogovich....
'' good day friend like a hand been inside one o those before y'know' madman strode toward the dragon '' CMON YOU BIG NONCE!!!!!!!!'' |
In seeing the two generals together Dantes knew that this was his chance. He let the invisibility spell protecting him fail as he drew Crimson Death from its sheath. The blade glowed a dull red due to the nearness of the bonespawn that Larry had somehow revived. With the phileet there Dantes knew that a spell casting duel would not be prudent at the current moment. Dantes grasped his faithful katana in one hand and his wand of fire in the other as he advanced toward the two generals, a shadow moving across a dead landscape. When he was withing 20 feet of the generals he stopped. "You two who serve the modding one. If you renounce his name and pledge your faithfulness and service to Ziroc I will let you live," Dantes proclaimed. He knew it was a bold proclamation, but he was hoping the two generals would underestimate him, that would at least give him some advantage in this suicidal fight that he had just picked. His dragon was dead, his spells were nearly exhausted, he was wounded, but Dantes held his head high as he prepared to die, if needed, to ensure the fall of the modding mage. The course had already been decided, there was nothing he could do but play his part. Dantes smiled behind his cloak of shadows as he prepared to fight the generals.
OOC: sorry ive been neglecting this a lot but R/L is a pain sometimes. Hope this post fits in with the flow. if not i will delete it. [img]smile.gif[/img] |
OOC>>>I hope none of you mind, but I am going to move the soty along a bit to provoke action and enevitably,...the end.
<font color=skyblue> Larry was watching the bretrayer taking his final breaths of life. Soon, the poison in his body would totally consume him, making him a mindless undead that woudl serve as an undead general, totally controlled by Larry's shadow magic. Then he felt the presence enter. HE knew that a force that was carrying a strong essence had just entered the building...from...the top? Oh..Larry remembered that the roof was penetrable, and the wind maker must have learned that as well. Running over a few contingencies in his mind, Larry prepared himself for his greatest hour and victory! The death of an outsider and tormentor to his realm. ************************************************** ***************** Down in the dungeons, A cell door was thrust open. A tall, ash-toned form emerged from it and the air went stale and cold. It seemed to be tasting the air and was seemingly intent on getting into the cell that held the wolf, but then it smelled the two women inside the dungeon. Deiter stopped, and turned towards his newest targets. Lunging forward with jagged black nails protruding from gastly hands, Deiter sought blood. He needed blood to truelly transform into the thing that Master Larry had promised. </font> OOC>>>More on his condition when I see some involvement! |
As Dantes awaits his answer Neb stands up and pretends to ponder his decision while in fact he's deciding what spell to cast. "Hmmmm.... It's a tough choice that you give us... NOT! DIE!" The sorcerer cast a rock to mud spell on the ground that his foe was standing on hoping that he'd sink down enough to be easy prey before he realized what was going on.
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<font color="cc3399">The dragon
With Neb's spellcasting and apparently forgetting about the wild magic his familiar caused he was quite surprised to notice all three of them sinking in mud, instead of just the intruder, there was also a roar and a stretching/popping sound from behind him as his spell released the drago-bun from it's spell. the bonespawn had the creature in it's mouth already at this point and was not at all happy about having a rampaging dragon inside it's mouth, before long both creatures were near death, and as the dragon finished with a wicked claw swipe across now almost slonelike fless he felt the bonespawn's life-force flee, knowing he was also near death the dragon used a spare second to cast protection from chaos, and then a teleportation spell to remove him from the tower.</font> OOC: I know the tower cannot be broken into with most magics, but I'm assuming it's a defense mechanism to keep intruders out, not prevent them from leaving. PM me if I'm wrong and I'll edit my post. |
<font color=teal>The marks of power disappeared from the scroll with each syllable of the hidden language that passed his lips. Soon the page itself was empty of marks and symbols and the velum itself simply dissipated into a swirling powder with the whispered speaking of the last syllable. Such writing as this offers considerable protection and thus might stand a chance of reducing the effectiveness of the One Who Mods for a few moments. The owls have brought him news. The One called Larry is alone in the large space within which he has seated his throne and the owls speak as well of another battle recently joined on the floors below. ~ Good. It seems that not everyone has fallen before his power. ~ He steps out of the room toward the stairs to the next floor and pauses a moment surprised by the quality of sound within the structure. Studying the harsh and smooth stone of the walls he smiles. Walls such as this are far too strong to be moved or shaken. The woman, TAO, of the silver banded throat had mentioned something about an echo. ~ Small wonder one would become conversant in the speech of echos in a place such as this. Perhaps, even the strength of these walls might be of use ....</font>
[ 05-09-2002, 11:46 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ] |
Seeing the fool sink into the mud madman arose too and drew his mindblade.. MAY I >>??? he walked toward the newly formed mudpit and raised his blade..we serve noone my friend...noone that is except for a common interest but oppose us and ye will surely die...RIG SPEECH OVER DIE!!! madman swung his blade in the hope of removing the fighter of good's head.....
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~Chani's first reaction was shock. She turned and gasped to see the monstrosity ambling toward them. Cowering, she held up her arms in a weak defense. The scythe on her right wrist glowed more vibrantly than she'd ever seen it. Puzzled, she looked at the ashen figure. Her jaw went slack in awe. Tears springing to her eyes, she straightened. She didn't care if the thing clawed her to a million pieces. Hard pressed to keep her voice steady, she held out a trembling hand, whispering.~ <font color=seagreen>"Mel! Mel quen wing wen!"</font> ~She shuddered, blinking back tears. She stood tall and brave, steadying her voice to a calm tone.~ <font color=seagreen>"Deiter... Don't you remember me?"</font>
(The elvish basically says: My love, speak to me!) |
The blade sunk deep into the head of the shadow in the mud pool. A blow that would have felled a normal man. The shadow ceased moving and a fireball exploded into the area of the mud pit, from behind both the generals, scorching Madman and destroying the clone stuck in the mud puddle. A shadow materializes behind Neb and Crisom Death glows a dull red as it flashes through the air on an angle to slice Neb in half.
OOC: what was that spell called "mislead" or something like that i think. It turns you invisible and creates another one of you? i think thats what it is called. Neb i am leaving you plenty of time to dodge block or w/e, and Madman you are burned a little bit, but presumably OK. |
<font color="skyblue">She watches and leaps to the side as the "thing" emerges and lunges. She watches astonished as Spree says Dieter's name, and holds in the shadows, watching as she stands...brilliant and brave, holding out her hand, begging him to remember her.......
If nothing else, she will always remember this moment..Silver tears fall to the floor, smoldering and melting the rock as they travel along the tiny cracks in the floor...... She limps silently towards the door containing the wolf, the silver bracer around her neck now glowing a brilliant blue, lighting up the door, and the wardings around it........... She lifts her head as she rears up, howling with all her might, the foundation shaking once again with the power and pain of the song.... She slams both front paws to the ground in front of the door, and a shockwave emanates from the spot traveling outward........... </font> |
Neb feels that something is wrong when the fool in the mud pool is too easily killed and dodges blindly to one side. It's what saves him, Dantes' blade gives him a deep and unpleasant wound across his back but doesn't kill him like it would have had he not dodged. The pain causes him to stumble and collapse.
Hardly a second passes before he gets to his feet again, however. He literally growls as he charges towards his foe, staff raised to strike. His opponent would probably parry and judging from the magic of his blade maybe destroy the staff. Which was the sorcerer's intention. The magic that would be released should the staff be destroyed would most assuredly wipe out his foolish foe. Though maybe him as well, a small risk that was acceptable. |
OOC>>>I won't go into useless detail about him. There is no point, as you won't be fighting him. <font color=lightgreen>
Deiter Stopping in his tracks, first you see a look of confusion, then his eyes seem to return to that beautiful shade of green that you once knew. He looks at his hands and then back to you, and speaks with a voice that seems to be unwordly, like an echo instead of a real voice... "Chani...Chani, what has he done to me? I am hideous! Please help me! I cannot bear this curse!" He sits down where he was standing and looks to the ground. "Chani...I know so much...I need to tell you so much! But I need to be returned to normal. The way to heal me is simple but very difficult for you. You must kill this body that is before you,... then as I die, I will return to a normal half-elf mortal, but before I die...I need to be healed...as the monster is dying, so shall I be reborn...but you have to time it right! Will you do this for me?"</font> TAO>>>Let me know when you have opened the cell door to the wolf. ;) [ 05-10-2002, 09:11 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ] |
<font color=teal>“Sof’ya,” he whispers, “sof’ya she’ah’tek’a ha’shama’im” It is time. Time for the weak and overlooked whispers of life to be heard in this place of death. It is time and it is right and it is good that the time and place are this moment within this tower. The issue must be decided here where the One Who Mods places his throne at the very seat of his power. The stormwalker grows still. Perhaps the Grim and Terrible Stillness, Death who neither moves nor breathes, shall claim him this day but this will be no straw death. No, he shall die, if that is to be, as he has lived – as one whose face is turned fully into the storm. He is frightened and he is uncertain, but these things do not matter. It is possible that he shall stand once more under open skies and within the free and living air and that this is possible is enough.
He whispers once more and a there is a slight rustling of feathers as the owls begin to move. “It is time.” They rise then, these strange grey black birds that have fed upon the blood of the hound of chaos, in silent flight to the place where the One called Larry has placed his throne. In swift circling movements they enter the room, filling it with the sudden and furious beating of their wings and the strange singing of their hooting calls. They carry scraps of cloth in their talons which they release in into the air set into motion by their wings and the swirling pieces of cloth move in the air and take on the varied semblances of the individual owls and of the silent stormwalker, surrounding the Mage with the restless and shifting sound and motion of bird and image. Cyril steps into the room among the images that mimic his motion. The arrow that dispels magical protections already in his bow, he releases it sending it flying at the One called Larry.</font> [ 05-10-2002, 10:46 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ] |
<font color=skyblue>
He jumped up at the moment he noticed movement. Somebody had entered the room, and had got past his wards. Angry at being taken by surprise, he left his seated position and stood in the center of the room, looking and listening, but then was assaulted by a terrible screaching of millions of voices, vibrating from the walls and crashing into his ears. He then saw the numerous host of owls and visions of Cyril. Larry raised his hand to a vision of the wind maker and a blast of flame erupted, destroying the image, but that did not stop the war. His ears were now ringing in annoyance at the terrible sounds of the owls, and he was getting dizzy from chasing after images that appeared real, but turned out not to be. Raising both hands and screaming a spell that he could not hear himself even speak took out two more images, leaving nothing but tattered cloth. Fury was racing through his thoughts, as he called forth a shadow-sword and began to hack at the intruding images. One after another fell, but nothing was stopping the screaming agony of the voices and screeches. Larry called forth another shadow-blade and now dual wielded them as he spun around and through the images, taking them out as fast as possible. He then heard a thud and looked to the ground to see an arrow at his feet. He had been shot at, but then realized that some of his immunities had just been destroyed. It was a dispel magic arrow, and was not intended to kill him, but only to lengthen the game of torture. Sreaming in rage now, Larry began to hack at the air with renewed fury, killing image after image, hating the Wind-maker more and more after each dispelling. Yet, there were so many of them. He was exerting so much energy into this that he began to get lightheaded and fatigued. Still, he pressed on, fear now overriding him as he knew that one of these images was flesh and blood.</font> OOC>>>I hope that did your post justice. |
<font color=silver>ooc: It most certainly did. Very nice work, Larry!</font> :D
<font color=teal>He shuddered at the naked rage of the Modding Mage and only with great effort managed to maintain his own composure. But this terrible outpouring of anger and violent energy is just what he had hoped to produce. The angry shouts of the One called Larry fill the room and confirm what he had suspected - it is like any other throne room, only more so. The harsh unyielding stone of this place amplifies Larry's voice and grants a mighty resonance to his words. Acoustically, the room is as close to perfect as he has ever encountered. Were it possible to relax Cyril would smile, but he must maintain his concentration as much hangs on these next few moments. All of this movement and outburst has purchased nothing more than seconds, a few brief moments of time within which to move. Hoping that such a brief advantage will be enough he reaches into his quiver and draws a rune arrow. He aims carefully not at the Modding Mage but at the smooth stone floor at his feet. He launches the arrow and without waiting to see the result draws a second and lets it fly to the floor on the other side of the Mage. The trailing thunderbolts nearly blind him with their bright motion in the shadow filled chamber and he braces himself to receive the thunder of their impact.</font> [ 05-11-2002, 12:55 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ] |
<font color=skyblue>
An arrow landed at his feet and with it brought more pain than if it had pierced him. Lightning shot forth and burned his body, since his defences were weakened, then as nature's way...Thunder always follows...yet Larry had never counted on a thunder clap inside his tower. The blast of thunder knocked him to the ground, his ears bleeding now from the constant torture they were going through. He dropped both his shadow swords, which dissipated upon being let go, and held his ears as he screamed. Never had anyone assaulted him so! When the rolling thunder finally ceased, Larry lay still on the floor, curled up in agony. </font> ************************************************** ******************* OOC>>>TAO...Spree...what is your situation? I expect TAO was trying to open the cell door to get the wolf out, and you are supposed to be healing Deiter as he directed. Both of those things need to be done, then I need you to wait until I post. Cyril and I need your part to be completed before we finish this... I am going to my mom's in a couple of hours, and will nt be around until Sunday night. [ 05-11-2002, 11:50 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ] |
Dantes was surprised by the counterattack and he dodged to the side but not entirely in time. The staff skiped off his left shoulder, not much of a blow, but it knocked him a little off balance none the less. With the ease of a practiced fighter Dantes rolled with the blow spinning around and sending his katana whistling in a blistering arc at the midsection of his opponent.
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Neb attempted to dodge the blade but the attempt went badly. The blade sunk into his side almost skewering his live and the mage sunk to the floor with a thin stream of blood running from the edge of his mouth, he could feel that he couldn't fight much longer, he'd have to come up with a plan. As he suddenly got the inspiration for one he smiled weakly.
The sorcerer feinted near-death and spoke weakly, "My foe, I am dying. Grant me one last wish... Break my staff that noone else wields it...." Then he closed his eyes and pretended to slip quietly into death. Actually he was just waiting for the explosion that'd herald the death of his foe. He hoped that it would come soon since he wasn't THAT good at holding his breath. |
(ooc: ~Wince~ Sorry Larry! I've been kind of busy DM'ing the Wanderers and working on the Wide-Eyed Wolf. BTW, about your lady's *ahem* plan?? A word: Ursula. Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?)
<font color=seagreen>~Chani swallowed hard, but nodded bravely. She blinked back the tears in her eyes, forcing a weak grin.~ "Anything for you Leafblade." ~Quietly, she stoops beside the deformed half-elf. She pulled out her scimitar, eyeing the fateful blade. Stalling, she looks to TAO.~ "You take care of the wolf... I can handle this myself." ~She then turned back to the thing that was Deiter. She looked mournfully into the creature's eyes, drawing the blade up to his chest. She put a trembling hand on his leathery shoulder.~ "Khil mel anca gurth." (Follow love to the jaws of death.) ~Taking a deep breath, she pummeled the blade into his abdomen.~</font> |
madman saw dantes standing before the defeated mage.....scorched and in agony madman rose his skin boots still smouldering...he slowly paced towards date...''neat trick'' he hissed as he pressed the poit of his bladeagainst the fighters back.
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<font color="skyblue">As the shockwave emanates forward, the door to the cell is blasted off its hinges. In the ensuing swirl of dirt, splinters of wood and metal, TAO hides her eyes with a paw. As the cloud disperses back to the floor, she looks up.
The door has been literally blown off its hinges, and out of the darkened cell, a wolf slowly limps forward to the opening.... At this time a resounding clap of thunder from inside the tower booms, knocking both wolves off their feet. TAO has one thought as she gingerly gets back on her feet...~The cloud bringer has begun~, and the wolf smiles a very human looking smile. The bracer around her neck glows a soft brilliant emerald green as she turns and lays eyes for the first time on the poor soul that the Modding Mage imprisioned and she gruffs sadly and softly to the wolf...........</font> [ 05-12-2002, 05:10 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ] |
<font color=skyblue>At that moment, a few things happened...
For Spree, what she saw was a monstrosity of what used to be human, slowly gain color back to his cheeks and a complexion of mortality slowly return to his form.. He smiled weakly and whispered, "You have done it my love! Now heal my renewed body, and I shall stand again at your side!"<font color=silver>OOC>>>If you don't soon, he will die in his renewed state...</font> For TAO, she saw that the wolf was in perfect health and that no hurt had come to her, besides the cold, dirty floor taht was within the cell.</font> <font color=lightgreen>Neither one of them realized that by opening the cell door that held the wolf, that a series of clicks had almost silently sounded off, and that the door taht they came in from was just ...no longer there. In fact, not only was there no exit anywhere in the underground holding, but all the other cell doors had now opened and several of them held things that were now awakened and starting to growl, hiss, and gurgle.</font> OOC>>>TAO & Spree...er...good luck staying alive! There is no way to get out by yourselves...only an outside force can breach the cavern wall that has now filled the hole where the door was. I have given you some things to play with while you wait for Cyril to try to rescue you. Don't worry...he will be coming your way...VERY soon, with a little hint of urgency notable upon his brow. ;) Cyril...let's get bloody. [ 05-12-2002, 08:51 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ] |
OOC>>>Here is a picture of a Shadow Mage-Fighter...much like my character. This was drawn in illustration to Troy Denning's Return of the Arch Wizards series.
http://www.wizards.com/books/images/Leevothlarge.jpg |
<font color=silver>ooc: Cool pic, Larry!</font> :D
<font color=teal>More seconds. This has granted him yet a few more seconds for the doing of that which must be done. There is no time to be either relieved or satisfied with this initial success. His foe is far too dangerous and these seconds must not be wasted upon such things as those. Still he has purchased enough time to do that thing which he had never before imagined doing. Holding the bow in his left hand he grasps the stormreaver in his right and the recently healed skin begins to burn once more as he walks to the cell holding the fallen knight. To spend life for the sake of an outsider knight, for a paladin – he recoils at the thought but forces himself to move forward. Memories rush over him, thundering across his mind with a force not unlike that which he unleashed upon the One called Larry. The outsiders and their arrogant journey through the mountains of his people. The Devouring Terror their foolish questing unleashed upon the children of the Clans of Storm. The ancient and terrible Hunger that tormented and consumed his wife. The summoning of the great Curse and the death of those knights at his hands in that Wind which Scatters Souls.</font>** <font color=teal>Newly awakened feelings of anger and loss build within him and the flesh of his palm burns against the handle of the axe. The angry silver color of lightning moves restlessly along the edge of the blade. Asking the forgiveness of his gods and his people, he swings the axe in a sudden and violent movement shattering the door of the cell. A tortured and broken man greets his eyes, confirming the impulse which demanded he act against his own memories. This man does not deserve to die so hopeless a death as this. ~ No if he is to die, let him then face the Great and Terrible Stillness as the man he has spent his life becoming. ~ He draws the arrow he has made from the golden symbol of one of those fallen knights and aims it carefully at the agonized warrior lying before him. “Perhaps the terrible price of another's fall into tragedy may be enough to bring relief to you. Perhaps some healing may yet be found in the crimes of yesterday.” As the final whispered syllable passes his lips, he launches the arrow at the warrior’s heart. ~ What happens after this is between the knight and his outsider god. ~ Hearing the movement of the One Who Mods, he places the bow over his shoulder and turns, his axes grasped tightly and his face set against the oncoming storm of anger that gathers around the Mage.</font> ** The details of these events are given in Tavern by the Creek III. <font color=silver>ooc: Morgeruat - I’ll leave the effect of the arrow’s striking your character’s heart [this is not intended as a necessarily lethal action, but one that may bring release in some way, however painful] in the your hands.</font> [ 05-12-2002, 11:01 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ] |
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