<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 59/70

Brendon was trying to listen in on the conversation with the gnomes, but they were speaking in their own dialect, and so he decided to patiently wait for them to finish, so translation would then be offered. While he was waiting, Brendon began looking around the room. It appeared to be a very old cavern, if the size of the stalagmites were considered truthful clues. Over in one corner, he noticed a cloth or old shirt that had been thrown over there. Taking out his sword, he wrapped the blade with the rag, dug through his items until he found a few remaining ounces of lamp oil, and poured this on the rag. Walking over to where a smoldering dead creature was...Brendon ignited the rag with the embers found on the dead thing's body. That gave a considerably better light now to the cavern.
Walking around, Brendon was noticing many tracks where everyone had been running around and fighting. He walked closer to the body of the dragon, where not so many people besides himself and two Grimlocks had ventured, as far as he could remember. On his way over, he saw Dantes examining the dragon's head.

</font>

OOC>>>Cyril, I had originally posted alot more than this, explaining more of what I was seeing, but then remembered that you are the one that has to tell me what I am seeing. It would be more fair, right?

"Adalon, I remember that name. Well met, I am Dantes. I don't know if we are in position to be your protector, but we will certainly try to help you. I think your cause is very near to our own. But first allow me to help out your companion." Dantes removed a potion from his belt and bent down and pumped it down the gnome's throat. Almost instantly the wounds close up upon themself and color returns to the gnome's face. His labored breathing comes easier, deeper, and more regular. The gnome is still unconscious, but looks a lot better. Dantes points his gaze fixedly at the gome "I can not say the fall of the drow city is bad news, but what creatures would be capable of doing such a thing. Do you know of the creatures that did battle with the dark elves and this poor dragon."

OOC: I used one of my extra healing potions on the gnome.

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=indianred>Larry</font> - PMed you the details of what Brendon should be able to find with his tracking skills. I also included a description of what is to be seen where the dragon's treasure was located.</font>

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 59/70</font>

Using ranger abilities and being guided by Cyril's PM to me...

<font color=indianred>Brendon surveyed the area. The ground near the dragon was too stirred up to make anything out. He then remembered that before they had enlisted into battle, the grimlocks had been running around the dragon, ripping the meat of of her. Looking up at the dragon, using the make-shift torch he held, Brendon could see several weapon blows to the beast's scales, and were powerful blows at that. It appeared that the poor thing had been beaten to death by huge boulders or clubs. The amount of blows covering her body were not to be determined for all the hide that had already been scavenged. Turning from the carnage, Brendon began to look around a little more, and found a small area of strange goo. Dantes had just been there, gathering the egg shells. Therefore, the goo was dragon embryos...obviously. Near one of the patches of goo was a bloody indention. Brendon looked at this a bit closer. It was a boot-shaped crevice. Larger than any man's. Turning now to the apparently empty room that had once held a dragon's horde, Brendon entered in and looked about. Under the upturned dust and rock from the destruction to the walls, Brendon could find various little gems and coins that had been left behind because they were well hidden in the pollution of the room. Some of the cois looked very old and he could not identlify their origin. His gaze fell upon a particular diamond that was exceptionally beautiful, and well crafted. For a brief moment, Brendon could only stare at that gem, until it appeared that it had been hours since he'd taken a breath! Quickly scooping it up, he placed it inside one of his pockets. Then he continued surveying the area, upturning more valuables. Thinking, he grabbed for his backpack and pulled out his blanket, the filled it with everything he could find. The items that he left behind in the dirt were some very exquisite ivory pieces, broken to uselessness and also some gems that had been crushed to powder by heavy weight applied to them. Again, another boot-print was discovered.
After he loaded his blanket up with the good gems and coins, Brendon turned his attention to the walls, where there were ripped out sections. The walls looked odd...like the pieces that were removed never were meant to be there in the first place. Further survey showed twin lines leading away from here. A cart? After he determined there was nothing else to learn...Brendon brought the blanket across the cave towards his friends. When he arrived to where they were...listening and talking to the gnomes...Brendon interrupted whoever was speaking at that time with the following insights...

"Guys, and lady...I have found enough treasure for each of us to partake of, having his pick of 7 pieces each! I have gathered it all here in this blanket! While you all pick and choose over the spoils...there is more I must tell you.

1. I found giant foot-prints in two different areas. I think there was a group of giants here...and they are the ones that beat the dragon to death.
2. The rock that they excavated was artificially a part of those walls. They were not born there.
3. The majority of the treasure and that rock have been hauled away by a cart, heavily loaded, by what the depth of the tread in the ground tells me." </font>

<font color=white>The Underneath of the Forums – Ust Nomatta</font>

<font color=cadetblue>Soundless are the streets and vacant the buildings here and the pomps and symbols of a proud people lie scattered and broken among the bodies of the city’s defenders. Long had they dwelt here and long were they the scourge of those other races that called this lightless realm their home. Those long years of triumph and life are now ended for a greater nightmare has arisen, one that will brook no rivals. Already the scavengers have come, those strange creatures that slither among the shadows and feast on the weak and dying and the bodies of the fallen. Long were the years of triumph and swift was the fall, swift and sudden, and soon little shall remain save soundless streets and vacant buildings to tell the tale of victories swallowed by death.</font>

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:43/74

Syrathic smiled as Ruby offered her help. "Yes, I would appreciate your help. I've been far too careless with myself, and I've been wounded because of it." He looked back at the others. "At least you came to help me with the gnomes. I don't know how well we would've managed without you, especially after I saw Brendon take that fall."

After Ruby finished with him, the Elf took a look around the cavern. The large carcass of the dragon dominated the room, and death of the majestic creature still haunted the air. Pulling out a small vial he had in the folds of his cloak, he bent down and collect what remained of the dragon's tears. It wretched his heart to see them, but he felt that he should take them.

He eventually ended up in the treasure alcove after Brendon had left. He was a thief, after all. If there was anything left in there of value, no matter how small (which would be beneficial to him anyway, since he feared his pockets wouldn't hold much), it was gone after he got through with it.

Syrathic then looked at the blanket that held the jewels. His expert eye knew which ones held the most value, but he did not take one at this time. Instead, he went over near Dantes to get a good look at the gnomes that he had helped save.</font>

<font color="99ff00"> Morguerat 85/105

"Is anyone going to take the skin from this showhound?" ,aking reference to the guaridan of the cavern the Syrathic took down before their assault.

After hearing Brendon's offer about the treasure Morguerat looked even more disgusted, "To steal the treasure of this magnificent Wyrm is an affront to all tenets of decency I have strove to uphold all my years, divide my share among you if that is what you wish, I'll have no part of it."

Morguerat then looks at the beast inspecting it and it's scales to see if enough remains intact to make armor from. thinking to himself, the majestic beast would desire to continue serving the battle for good even in death. (ooc: I'm also looking for the claws which I'll remove, as well as, as many teeth as I can remove {putting them into the deeppockets in my cloak}).

Lost within his own thoughts Morguerat absently kicks the barely conscious Grimlock as he walks past inspecting the dragon and removing parts from it.</font>

[ 01-24-2003, 10:50 AM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

OOC>>>Everyone...you should take your share of the treasure. There is enough to take 7 pieces of whatever you say you pick up, but Cyril will decide how much value we carry. This was his idea and his gift to us, afterall...for the battle we just endured. We may even find a place to use our currency soon. ;) Don't ignore it, or you'll regret it!

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 59/70

Brendon finished talking while everyone was still staring and pondering over the jewels. Seeing nobody reach for any...he started. He picked out 7 pieces of what lay on the blanket. They are as follows:

2 sapphires
2 diamonds
2 gold nuggets
1 ruby</font>

OOC>>>Cyril, you tell me how much value I have when the time is right.

<font color=white>Terrakis</font>

<font color=gray>They plead. They attempt to bargain. They invoke the wrath of their spider goddess. And it does them no good for no one will wrest their lives from the Hunger that soon shall feast upon them. Even the arrogance of the matrons has been broken and with the breaking has come the time to cast them decisively aside as the irrelevant and useless creatures they have always been. “Yes,” he says, “O yes! Call upon your Lloth, your sickening spider. She is powerless to help you.” With a swift motion of his foot he rudely kicks aside the shattered remnants of the great statue of the spider queen. He gestures to the pile of artifacts lying before his prisoners, the elite and mightiest of the drow who did not fall in battle. “These are the things with which you sought to buy your freedom? These trinkets?” He laughs and his laughter is joined by the voices of the assembled giants.

“Worthless!” he shouts and mirth gives way to malice. “Cringing cowards! You have styled yourselves the masters of this dark place for too long. You who only came here in flight driven from the sun by your surface dwelling cousins. You arrived as beaten cowards and so shall you die!” Opening his pack, he draws out a carefully wrapped stone, a diamond of enormous size within which is a writhing mist. Looking at his prisoners once more, he reads the questions in their eyes, the questions they have asked since the attack began, the questions he has left unacknowledged until now. “You, of course, would like to know why you have been destroyed. And how it was the magics of your gates were so easily breached.......” He leaves the questions hanging in the air a moment.

“The reason for your destruction you shall die not knowing. And as for the breeching of your gates,” his voice is cold as he smiles, “the answer shall be your death.”

Gazing into the stone, his eyes reach through the mist to perceive the great stone doors. “Open!” He speaks the command into the gem and the mighty arms of waiting giants swing the doors open. At the opening of the doors a ravenous grasp extends through the dark tunnels until it reaches this place near the gates of a dead city. The piled artifacts are seized and their energy consumed and in their wake follow the prisoners, life following after power into a consuming emptiness. Soon little remains save dust and the lifeless husks of drow nobility. Gazing once more into the stone, he speaks, “Close!” And in response to his words, the giants stationed near the doors swiftly swing them closed sealing the terrible power of the Hunger behind them once more.

“To think that we should command so mighty a weapon!” A fierce light gleams in his eyes. “Its reach grows with each feeding and so does our control.” With a sweeping movement of his arm he indicates the broken city. “See, my brothers,” he addresses the gathered giants, “the hour of the Giants of Shadow has indeed arrived.” His voice swells as he continues, “We are his sons! And none shall contest our claim!!!”

And as the thunder of his voice rolls into the darkness all other sounds fall silent before its defiant challenge.</font>

OOC>>>If there are any of you too weak or fearful to continue...I will understand. My thoughts are...we are not coming outta this one alive. I invite all those that cannot handle the fear to leave now. Only death awaits us ahead...

Larry
Occupation for the moment...Doomsayer.

ooc: Is there a list of what's on the blanket or do we just make up what we take?

And I've been predicting my character's demise for a while now, so he'll keep going, at least. ;)

HP: 76/76

Dantes looked over the gathered gems, determining which ones would be of most value to him. Some gems could be used in spell casting. He had hoards of gems back at his home, but he was far away from there now, and one could never tell when one might need some gems. Dantes took 3 diamonds, a saphire, a ruby, a large pearl, and an emerald.

[ 01-25-2003, 10:32 AM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

<font color=skyblue>She tilts her head, determining where the voices are coming from on the other side of the cleft wall, and she places an ungloved hand upon the stone, burning a rune into the face......

removing her hand, her eyes glow as she slams her staff into the rock floor three times, then stands back...............</font>

OOC: Cyril, milord :D , *LOL* do with me as you will!! :D

[ 01-25-2003, 12:04 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

<font color=orchid>Anarrima Culurien 60/60

She awoke to screaming, and it was not from any of her fellow prisoners. The guards were scurrying around, speaking quickly in thier foul tongue, obviously very upset about something.
Ever since she had been brought to this dark city called Ust Nomatta, she had dwelt behind bars and her fingers braced together to prevent any spells from being worked. Her mouth was gagged and bruises were dark and sore. Yet, this day carried a promise with it. A chance of escape may be at hand! A drow cast a spell toward her right and she looked to where he was aiming his concentration. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, but was much too large to fit through the door. That did not matter to the figure. The door was ripped apart, and the roof began to cave in. Dust coverd the area, and Anarrima choked. She ran to the far end of the cell block, and hid with the other prisoners at the back of a huge pillar that had been carved from the stalagmites hanging from the ceiling.
The next thing Anarrima knew, she was falling, and landed softer than she'd anticipated. A corpse had broken her fall. She quickly rolled it off and nearly vomitted. She recognized the body as one of her tormentors..his head crushed by a blunt object. The screams were still echoing around the city of the Underdark, and Anarrima was standing in the middle of it. Her fingers were still bound, and she was still gagged. Seeing a dark figure looming toward her broke her out of whatever trance she was held with as she stood there, and now realized that this was the right time to run. There was terrible laughter rising above the sounds of death, and crumbling, earth-shattering sounds of unknown towers being brought down by a great force. An earthquake shook the ground and she found herself laying flat on her face. Rolling as fast as she could, she wormed her way behind an old cart that lay near the southern cavern wall. A thin metallic band was part of the wreckage where she hid now, and she bagan to try to saw the bands from her fingers. It took a while, since they were strengthened with the black magics of this darkness...but eventually gave way to her persistence.

Anarrima noticed now that the whole place had become silent. It seemed that the battle was over, and the large shadowy figures had dominated. She removed the gag from her mouth and spit the taste away. Peering over the upturned cart, she viewed the destruction that lay before her now. She saw nearly a dozen of the large giants and heard the booming voices of more. Were they Storm Giants? No...storm giants are a different color. These appeared to be made from the darkness itself, like a shadow in the darkness. Their voices were not booming, but more menacing and wretched.

After she had seen enough, Anarrima was ready to try her escape. She had heard her captors speak of a gnomish village nearby that they had been planning on raiding. She had not heard of them since, so she assumed they were never bothered with up till now. If these giants had not passed that way on their way here,,,then that settlement might be her only chance to make it away from this lightless world.

So, her adventure began. To sum it all up, Anarrima ventured long into the dark tunnels, looking for help until she was finally rescued by a couple of gnomes while they were scouting their perimeters. Recognizing her as a surface elf with no ill intent, they took her to thier settlement, fed her and nursed her to health, then allowed her to stay with them until she could figure a way home. Until that time, Anarrima helped around the settlement with whatever she could.
</font>
================================================== ==============================

<font color=ivory>Anarrima Culurien.
Lover of the sun / Golden Maiden. (In the Quenya tongue)

Elven Cleric: Level 12

HP = 60
Strength = 10
Dexterity = 12
Constitution = 11
Intelligence = 14
Wisdom = 18
Charisma = 16

Devoted worship = Ahurani Fairhand (invoked for health, healing, prosperity, and growth)

<u>Proficiencies:</u>
Staff
Club
Short-bow

<u>Possessions: </u>
Leather armor
</font>

================================================== ==============================

OOC>>>Per my discussion with the DM concering our lack of good healing powers, Anarrima could be the party's cleric...if we can find that gnomish settlement.

[ 01-27-2003, 09:19 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:43/74

Syrathic looked at the jewels that were left. He scanned them all, looking for the ones that had the most value. He knew a little something about jewels, although he was did not currently possess any. Even in the place that he called home, he only had a few baubles stored; they were the ones that had particularly caught his eye, even if they weren't the most valuable he had.

A couple of gems caught his eye. One was a deep red ruby, the other a sparkling sapphire. He loved those colors. The Elf also took two of the diamonds that were left. Those were always nice. And an emerald. Who didn't like those? And he couldn't help but help himself to a nice round pearl. So beautiful it was. Lastly, he decided on a garnet. He didn't know why, it just seemed nice to him. "Well, what are we going to do about Morguerat's share? I'd hate to see such pretty gems just sit here again..."

Then Syrathic looked around at the others. "And what comes next? I really could use a rest to heal up a bit, but if you want to keep going, then that's fine with me too."</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: Man! Do you guys think I'm THAT bloodthirsty? [img]graemlins/beheaded.gif[/img]

Well, OK, so I did kill a silver dragon and destroy her eggs and wipe out an entire drow city, not to mention threaten to feed the forums to the Hunger ..... alright, so I'm a little bloodthirsty [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img]

Seriously, though, one of the characteristics of the last thread was that it became a desperate battle waged successfully against any reasonable hope of success. As you can see, I've set up something of the same dynamic here. The giants can be beaten but it will be difficult and you'll need to be clever to do so -- there's no way the party can match their raw power, but if the last story had any lesson at all it's that a good plan boldly executed can sometimes overcome overwhelming power.</font>

<font color=turquoise>A couple options for the party:</font>
</font>

• It seems that the area of the dragon's lair can be secrued and defended as a temporary place to rest and plan -- although if a large number of attackers arrives the party will be backed into a corner.</font>
• It might be possible, although not without danger, to try and backtrack the grimlocks to their lair. Pressing forward means that the grimlocks remain behind you.</font>
• At least one of the passageways ahead is large enough to accomodate giant-sized beings and you could risk its exploration.</font>
• The gnomes will need to get back to their village and the party is welcome either to accompany them or follow along later -- they will leave a simple map with Dantes. Once there, the group will have an opportunity to rest comfortably and resupply itself.</font>

<font color=silver>Now, if you'll excuse me, this bloodthirsty ..... I mean, diligent, DM is going check on his monsters ;) </font>

OOC>>>My vote is to follow the gnomes back home, to ensure their safety as they travel...and our chance to rest in a settlement that is more secure than this cavern with a rotten, stinking, dead body masse. I await others to vote.

I am not the party's leader.

<font color=white>The Treehouse</font>

<font color=orchid>Long has the nightmare continued. Long has it dominated him and shaped his thoughts. Twisted his thoughts have become – twisted and unsure and not to be relied upon. Thinking itself has lost its sweetness and taken on an unwholesome taste. But think he must. All men, by their very nature desire to know – so said the long dead Greek <font color=white>*</font>– and this man, though life has fled his body, has ever desired knowing more than even the vigor of living. He must know. He must understand and despite the cost his thoughts will find a focus.

He screams and the screaming of a mouth with no tongue is a horrible sound. But the scream has a purpose for it focuses his mind upon the pain of frustrated logic. Finding a focus the terrible strength of a mind that thought itself to death and in its thinking remained alive finds a place to assert itself. The nightmare was unexpected, but the nightmare will be understood. The little man thinks and in his thinking his mind seizes the nightmare and suddenly a second scream fills the treehouse as Zhydo’rah cries in shock and pain as her victim suddenly usurps the nightmare she had inflicted upon him ......</font>

<font color=white>* Aristotle</font>

<font color="99ff00">Morguerat {85/105}

As the party considers it's options, Morguerat completes his inspection of the Wyrm, it's hide is apparently too badly damaged to salvage even enough hide for a decent sized shield, perhaps a helmet could be fashioned from it eventually, but the harvesting of it would require far more time than he would like to spend in one place, especially a place so laden with the smell of death, the graverot that permeated every fiber of his being, a stench he had smelled more than once in the dead air beneath these forums.

Where the dragon's hide was too damaged for use however, it's claws were still in fine condition, as were a few of it's teeth, so using the axe with the runes engraved upon it, Morguerat began hacking the claws off, taking care to cut well above where they joined to the flesh of the beasts "hands", he then much more carefully began retrieving what teeth he could salvage, placing them, with the bloody claws within a leather bag, which was placed within the deeppocket of his cloak.

"Syrathic, would you be so good as to retrieve the skin from the shadowhound? I would appreciate the favor personally, as well as consider it fair payment for my share of the horde."</font>

[ 02-03-2003, 12:29 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

OOC>>>FYI...Brendon will not be caring about any left over jewels or coins that are left behind if someone does not take their share.

He would have the desire to earn any more than his publically displayed seven.

If we have not decided in the next twelve hours from this post where we are going...I want to go ahead and move us along in the direction I wanna go.

If the rest of you decide to move along before then...I will accept whichever way you guys wanna go. Let's just get going somewhere!

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=turquoise>DMs Note</font> - I'm making a quick continuity adjustment to handle an absentee character. Let's assume that at some point during the battle, while the party's attention was oocuppied by the grimlocks, Rhianneth apparently wandered off -- presumably as a result of whatever strange experience she had immediately before the fighting broke out. Brendon can follow her trail a short ways down the passage from whcih the party came, but then it simply ends -- possibly as a result of her casting spell. Be that as it may, there is no sign of her nor is there any indication of where she gone or whether she will return.

Rhianneth has not been killed off, but I am removing her to a safe place pending Mistral's possible return to the game once her schedule lightens up.</font>

Dantes- 76/76

Dantes thought about it for several moments, he did want to study the rune that was here and try and learn the secrets of its magic. It may not have been helpful against the creatures that actually killed the glorious dragon, but who knows what kind of creatures one would meet in the underdark. The Party could all use a rest, and the gnome settlement, a more secure placce was a long way off, though there was still one rune stone still active. Dantes considered the options for a moment and then addressed the party.
"I vote we escort the gnomes back to their settlement. It is not from here if I recall, and we should make sure they make it back, they have no weapons, and are injured. There we can rest and regain our strength. There is but another thing I ask as well. Is that we carry this active runestone back so that I may examine its magic's more closely. I have already spoken with Dankorona and he will help me carry it carefully back there so that I may study it."
With that said Dantes looked at Morgeraut for any objection. Seeing him lost in thought, Dantes began prepatations for moving the rune, with the help of his gnomish friend.

"syrathic," ruby says in alow voice close to him, "i noticed you took the ruby....being a ruby myself i would really like that, as the only treasure i would take from the lot. i haven't much to trade you. but if i come across anything you want, i'll be happy to part with it just to have it."

<font color="99ff00">Morguerat {85/105}

"My vote is to track the grimlocks back to their base of operations, I would rather not face more and larger patrols when they notice these missing, currently none of us are overly injured, slightly tender in places, yes, but badly hurt, no. We currently attack with the element of surprise working for us, and destroying them would help me personally in avenging the death of this Dragon."</font>

Dantes 76/76

"I understand your want of vengence and your need for quick action, but we would be better able to handle any threat that may be there with us all rested, and with me replenishing my spells. I am afraid, I have very few spells of power left, so if we encounter anything greater than a grimlock there, we could be in some serious trouble. Whatever killed this dragon, did so with ease, and if we happen to encounter it at the present time, it Will destroy us with ease. Also, I would feel better making sure these poor gnomes get home free of any other malicious actions. We can always backtrack and then follow the grimlock's trail once we are recuperated and sure they are safe."
Dantes looked to Morgeraut to see how his words weighed on him. Dantes was well aware of how powerful this dragon had been, and how powerful the creature that defeated it must have been. A Dragon is a fierce and powerful enemy to being with, but when you add the fact that this had been a cornered mother protecting her young, and she had still be defeated, without visible casualty, and then made to watch her own eggs being destroyed, for that was the only explinantion Dantes could think of for the tears. When you consider the evidence before them, the party would not stand a good chance against whatever was out there fully healed, and armed to the teeth. They had came down here to look for clues about how to stop the hunger. Maybe they shouldn't ask questions they were scared to find the answer to.

1. It seems that the area of the dragon's lair can be secured and defended as a temporary place to rest and plan -- although if a large number of attackers arrives the party will be backed into a corner.
<font color=steelblue>Votes= 0 </font>

2. It might be possible, although not without danger, to try and backtrack the grimlocks to their lair. Pressing forward means that the grimlocks remain behind you.
<font color=steelblue> Votes= 1 (from Morgie...Party Leader)</font>

3. At least one of the passageways ahead is large enough to accomodate giant-sized beings and you could risk its exploration.
<font color=steelblue> Votes= 0
</font>
4. The gnomes will need to get back to their village and the party is welcome either to accompany them or follow along later -- they will leave a simple map with Dantes. Once there, the group will have an opportunity to rest comfortably and resupply itself.

<font color=steelblue> Votes= 3 (Dantes, Dankorona, and Brendon)</font>

<font color=white> Those that have not chosen= 2</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: Just taking advantage of events on the board to have a bit of fun.</font>

<font color=white>Of omens and portents .....</font>

<font color=thistle>Since the dawning of awareness within the mind, eyes have sought signs that might hold clues to decisive points within the movement of time. The heavens, of course, have been one such place that eyes have turned and sudden changes in the position and brightness of stars have long been regarded as heralds of portentous moments. But when one is below the earth and there is no sky other than a field of dark and oppressive stone to meet his eyes, other senses must be brought to bear in the seeking after clues to what is to come.

There is a perceptible shifting within the boards, a slight but definite movement. The turning of posts has reached and passed a moment of no small magnitude for in a strangely named thread an out of character post was made. Hundreds of such posts have been made within the threads of these boards, but this post and no other marked the reaching of 25,000 posts within the roleplay forums. That such a total has been reached is a great thing. But the lack of an in character element to the post adds an element of shadow to the moment.

There has been a turning in the movement of the boards and all further posts will be made under the shadow of this strange 25,000th post.</font>

<font color=silver>Earlier tonight, Death Killer made post #25,000 over in the Flying Fish of the Multiverse thread. 25,000 posts is a lot of roleplaying in a lot of threads by a lot of players so it seems appropriate to acknowledge something like that in this thread which is about the fate of the boards themselves.</font>

[ 01-28-2003, 12:06 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

OOC>>>Thanks for the heads-up, Cyril! Wow! My dominion groweth, yeah ever the more grand.

For the decision as to which path to take...notice that three characters have voted to go to the settlement of teh gnomes, and the party leader wants to track the remaining Grimlocks down. Two players have not responded to the question, and so I will wait to let everybody do so...another day. Still, I await in anguish...wanting to get moving!

ooc: Sorry about taking so long. With the Super Bowl yesterday, I didn't get the chance to post at night like I usually do. You couldn't expect me to actually miss a chance to have fun, would you? ;) :D

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:43/74

Having chosen his pick of the jewels, he pulled out something that he had found in the hoard room: a dark purse with a number of coins in it. He smiled when he shook the purse and there was no sound of jingling coins within. The perfect bag for a thief such as himself. He slipped his new gems into the purse, and slipped that into the folds of his cloak.

Having heard Morguerat request for the hide of the shadow mastiff, the Elf went back and located the beast. He had a little bit of experience skinning creatures, and he managed to do a good job for the tall man. "Here you go," the Elf said as he laid the hide next to Morguerat.

As he stood near the jewels again, marveling at what was left, Syrathic heard the voice of Ruby speaking to him. "Hmm... my choice of something you come across in exchange for the ruby in my possession?" He thought about it for a moment. He really loved rubies as well, but the thought of something powerful coming into his hands because of the deal was just too much. He pulled out the ruby and handed it Ruby. "Sounds good to me. A pretty stone for a pretty lady."

He looked around at everyone. "Well, I vote for heading back to the gnome town as well. I helped rescue the little guys, and I wouldn't want all my work to go to waste. Besides, I could really use the rest. My wounds may not be serious yet, but if we come across anything formidable, I may not leave that battle alive."

Having said his piece, he looked at the remaining jewels. There were still a good number of them left. If the group decided not to take any more of them before they left, Syrathic would take them for himself. "No sense in letting good treasure go to waste," he thought. "I am a thief after all."</font>

<font color=indianred>Brendon 59/70

When he heard Syrathic's vote for what the party should do, Brendon began packing up whatever belongings he had taken out of his bag. His make-shift torch had gone out and they were back to low-light vision. He walked up to everyone else that were huddled around the gnomes and said, "Ready and waiting."</font>

OOC>>>Whoever wants to begin the march can do so, unless we are waiting for Cyril to speak for the gnomes and instruct us on travel.

As soon as Dantes and Dankorona had secured the rune in a makeshift stretcher, Dantes motioned for Syrathic, and the gnomes to lead them back to their settlement. Dantes put great stock in Morgeraut, he had been in the castle, and felt the fallen paladin's as his connection with his God was severed by the devious Modding Mage. Dantes had never met the mage in open combat in that battle, but he did distract the tower's defenses to allow the WindBringer to defeat the mage. Dantes' mind rolled around the bittersweet memories as they plodded on in the unending darkness of the Underdark. They had accomplished their goal, the fall of the Modding Mage, but at what a price. Morgeraut had paid that price in full, and more. Dantes looked at the knight. He still held himself regally even though the strain of the past few years showed in his eyes. He had the look of a lost soul. Dantes knew that more than anything the big man felt rejected by his god. It was true that the mage had severed his connection, but his god had not, as of yet, made himself available again to Morgeraut. He knew that this made him feel rejected and unworthy. Dantes knew that Morgeraut had been a noble paladin, and that he would do anything to regain his God's favor. Dantes could also understand his eagerness in wanted to track down and destroy those responsible for the death of the dragon, even at the cost of his own safety or life. Maybe by that action he could prove his worth to his god. Dantes wished there was something he could say to console the former paladin, but there was not. Morgeraut had to come to grips with it himself, until he regained his god's favor. It was a lonely path, Dantes knew, but one he would not have to walk alone. Dantes then contemplated his spell selection as he carefully carried the runestone toward the gnomish settlement.

OOC: These are mostly Dantes' thoughts of Morgeraut.

OOC>>>Great post, Az! You spelled out some very good points. By the way...if you ever felt that you had been somehow cheated out of direct confrontation with the Modding Mage...do not despair! There are more terrible things ahead of us that you will wish were as weak as the One that Modded. I'm telling ya folks...<font color=black>Doom and Gloom, Gloom and Doom!

</font>

OOC: lol maybe some slight regret, each had their own part to play in the battle. If everyone didn't do their job, the outcome could have been different. Dantes is always looking to test his skills, meager as they may be in comparison to the overwhelming might of the one who mods, especially with the ring. Honestly though I mostly brought it up as a lead into something else.

<font color=thistle>While the party converses, Cedrick draws a simple map to his village which he then gives to Dantes. Pointing to the tall warrior, the gnome tells Dantes that “That one especially will have trouble within the tunnels.” He explains that when news of the fall of the drow enclave had reached them, the gnomes sealed off the large tunnels leading to their settlement leaving only small and narrow passageways that would not be easily traveled by those much larger than themselves. Casting a glance at his wounded companion, his face registers relief at the improvement in his condition. Still, the injured gnome is weak. “Usually,” he says, “a hard day’s travel is enough to reach our village. But Dellon will not be able to move either so quickly or so long.”</font>

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 59/70

"I will help carry or whatever I need to. Just tell me. But let's get moving...I am beginning to get naucious at the oder of the dead."

Brendon covers his face with his sleeve as in action to highlight his growing disgust.</font>

<font color="99ff00">Morguerat {85/105}

"I can see that I am outvoted, and bow to the will of the party, we should be able to move the injured quickly enough, especially with the raw materials we have available, take the heads off of four of the axes, and use strap them together to make 2 poles, we can then use my cloak and fashion a litter that should hold Dellon, without worsening his condition, and perhaps with the proper guidance we can move at a sprint and make the journey in less than a day. As for getting me through, a spell of reduction would allow me to pass the tighter tunnels, it's a minor enchantment. Unfortunately I have used my spells for the day and must rest before my inner strength returns enough for me to try and cast it, do you know of a defensible position along the way where we could stay and rest, or perhaps I could stay behind along with any who have too much difficulty passing the tunnels, and await a magician who could reduce me, and allow me to pass the tunnels. If needed I could wait alone, if something came along while waiting for you to return then it would be better to have as much strength with the party as possible, rather than dividing just so that I would not be uncomfortable, or isolated."</font>

[ 02-03-2003, 12:18 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:43/74

Watching as the others prepared to depart, Syrathic began gathering the remaining jewels. He stuffed any gold coins on the blanket into his new dark purse, then stuffed it full of jewels. That left just a couple of bigger gems, which he put in various folds of his cloak, aligning them so they would not clink together.

With the blanket now empty, the Elf folded it up and handed it back to Brendon, murmuring softly, "Never hurts to have a little extra money for unexpected expenses."

Syrathic strode up to Dantes. "So where are we going? If I'm going to be out front, it helps to have some idea of where I'm going. Or is Dankorona going to be ahead too, so I can communicate with the other gnomes?"</font>

ooc: Syrathic is ready to go.

OOC: brb sick baby

<font color=white>The Treehouse</font>

<font color=white>Myron Epimetheus</font>

<font color=orchid>Having recognized a puzzle, his mind has seized it. The little man begins to mutter now, fitting the words of a strange and ancient language together in his speaking. Completing the sentence, he repeats it and his mutterings become insistent in their repetition of this strange grouping of words. Clarity returns as he mutters and he can see the dried and wrinkled skin of the coal black hand upon his thoughts. It is a foul thing, and seeing it the little man is aware of it s polluting touch within him. He shudders and by all that is normal he really should respond to the fear the sight of this hand provokes within him. Flee! His lifeless body stirs with a vigor of terror never felt while alive. Yes, he must flee.

But here is a puzzle and his mind will not release its grip, a grip it fought so desperately to achieve. Even as his limbs twitch in their urge for flight the old man’s mutterings shift in key and language and he sees beyond the hand to the leering face of the demoness that haunts his thought – one of the hags of night and exceedingly powerful for her kind. From his throat a sigh of relief rattles forth for while the danger is great, he now knows its cause. Again, however, the impulse to flee is strong and terror begins to tighten its grip upon his thinking. Sensing her victory, the hag laughs, a filthy sound like the gating of pieces of broken glass against one another.

He simply shakes in the terror that has seized him. How can this creature be so powerful? It is a simple question and in its simplicity there is clarity. With a desperate strength his mind seizes hold of it. The little man focuses his thinking here ignoring all other thoughts. Ruthlessly he holds on and with brutal logic he shoves aside all that would distract him. He speaks again, but this time his voice does not mutter but rings with a terrible resonance. The incantation is powerful and the air itself begins to glow around him and with a sudden strength the mind of the little man opens a corridor into the Ether itself. His lips continue to move but produce no sound within the material plane. The Ether, however, shakes with his words until with a sudden shifting in his tone the hag is expelled.

There is a stink like that of brimstone in the air of the treehouse and the hag lies stunned upon its floor. Exhausted and cold, the little man reaches for his cup. Perhaps something warm to drink will ease the terrible chill in his bones.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: No problem, Ruby. Here's hoping the baby feels better soon.</font>