OOC: what level is that reduction spell, I will edit my spell list, for after we rest, so I may include it. Or I could just polymorph you into a rabbit, or something for a time :D j/k

Also Ruby, I hope everything turns out for the best for you, and the little one.

[ 01-29-2003, 11:38 AM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

OOC: 3 things
#1 is Cyril please replace one of my magic missle spells with a reduction spell, once we rest long enough.

#2 is I trust larry will edit out all these OOC posts when we are done.

#3 we are heading toward the gnome settlement, and will stop to rest at the first available place that we can find, just waiting on word from the DM on a description of a place like that, or a suggestion from the NPC gnomes.

<font color=silver>ooc: Change duly noted, Azrael. The party is about to get its chance to rest.</font>

<font color=thistle>The makeshift litter makes travel a bit faster and the gnomes guide the group with a practiced and familiar ease through the lightless warrens. From time to time strange gibbering sounds drift into the hearing of those with sensitive ears, but the source of such noise seems to remain distant. After the group has moved along a wide passage for some time, Cedrick stops and removes a small metallic bar and a tuning fork from his belt pouch. Approaching a slight depression in the cavern wall he stoops and fits the tuning fork into a small hole in the rock. “We have hidden the way to our village,” he explains. He then strikes the fork with a swift blow from the bar, producing a low clear note of striking quality. The stone here is cunningly designed to hold the tone of the note in this small cleft and prevent it from escaping out into the wider passage. At the sound of the tone there is a shifting within the stone of the cavern wall and an small opening appears. “We must move quickly,” he says, “for the magic is old and the opening shall not remain long.”</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: If folks move quickly, everyone should make it through. Most of the group will have to crawl. It will be a tight fit for Morguerat and Wyrd, but neither should get stuck – the experience will just be unpleasant.

The group will need to move through a low and narrow tunnel a short distance before the passage opens out in a chamber big enough for the group to rest.

<font color=indianred>Brendon</font> and <font color=lightgreen>Syrathic</font> - As far as you can tell nothing has followed the group and there do not seem to be any signs of activity nearby.</font>

<font color=indianred>Brendon heard the message given and was the quickest to move. He'd already scouted the area, and all appeared well. He quickly dropped to the ground and scurried into the tight opening, following his bow's lead. There would certainly be no danger ahead of him, so he took no precautions to judge his path.</font>

ooc: Hope the baby feels better soon, Ruby.

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

Syrathic nodded as he heard the gnome's explanation. With a quick look around to see if he could find the source of the gibbering sounds (not that he expected to see anything), he followed Brendon into the tunnel. The Elf did not like enclosed spaces like this very much, but he took hold of his fear and followed his friend. "Don't trip over your bow," he said to Brendon with a chuckle.</font>

Carefully lugging the rune stone behind him, Dantes, with Dankorona following walking rather easily, pull the stone through the narrow passage. Dantes sees there is an opening ahead and he is much pleased, as this will give him a chance to memorize some new spells, as well as study this runestone, so he would have to carry it, with him anymore, and he could give it to the gnomes to guard their passage. Dantes had no idea what they were going to encounter before the end of their journey, but he definitely wanted to be ready for it.

<font color=silver>ooc: I hope folks have not been waiting on me to post here as I see no great need to DM the act of resting and am quite willing to assume that the party will be able to rest without incident.</font>

Dantes 76/76

The time was well spent, and the all too breif rest period was well used by the party. The lightless caverns had a way of warping the flow of time. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed on the surface, since when they entered. It could be a few days, or a few hours. When one glanced overhead, all that was visible was the endless darkness of the stone roof of the caverns. Unphased and unyelding in its imensity. How deep underground they were, it was impossible to know. They might be a few feet from the surface, or a few miles from it. Of course, it always felt like the later. One could almost feel the depth in the air. It was stale, and old, yet warm. There was never a breeze in the Underdark. As the party rested the oppression of the rock overhead hung in the air. It was another member of the party on this journey, another constant on their lonely impossible quest, another disadvantage on this mismatched suicidal venture. They were looking for something that killed a dragon and destroyed an entire drow city, but the question was, what were they going to do once they found it. Dantes knew that he didn't have an answer for it. As powerful as his magics were, he couldn't touch power like that. As Dantes considered these thing he was afraid, not for the first time in his life. Dantes only had two real fears. The wrath of monsters, men, or even gods Dantes was not worried about. He feared failure, and he feared the unknown, One was definitely looming in their near future, was the other close behind? What would become of the world if they did fail? Dantes shuddered and quickly pushed those betraying thought from his head. Everyone feels fear, its just how you deal with it. Dantes dealt with it by pushing it to the back of his mind, and focusing on memorizing his spells, and resting, and preparing for their journey ahead.

OOC: I will allow a little more time, for characters to post some thoughts or something about what they did that night, then I am going to get us moving again, if no one posts, then we move all the sooner. [img]smile.gif[/img]

[ 02-03-2003, 04:22 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

<font color=silver>ooc: Don't be surprised if <a href=http://www.ironworksforum.com/ubb/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=10;t=013843>this</a> gets incorporated into the plot somehow. What horrors could possibly be lingering in a forgotten passage of IronWorks so ancient it had faded away even before the one who became the Modding Mage arrived?</font> [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img]

[ 02-03-2003, 03:44 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

OOC: lol, Cyril, you make me fear continuing, truly, but a paladin, even a fallen one fears not death in pusuit of his just cause.

IC: <font color="99ff00">While the party rested Morguerat was up long into the... "night", if their rest period could indeed be called such. The gnomes would be their greatest aid in discerning when the time to be about was upon them, but the large knight did not truly trust them, with an injured comrade it was possible that they would sacrifice time and speed in the name of a few more hours of rest for their friend.

Tucked into a crevice in the hollow they were using, a cloak had been draped, a heavy cloak one would have thought unnecessary in the stigfling warmth of the humid tunnels, by the light of a glowing coin a man began working on sharpening the already sharp fangs into a razors edge, they could be used for many purposes, the tip of a lance, a knife blade, and many other variations on the theme, once a few of the teeth were starting to show direction the former knight began to scrape the flesh from the claws, preparing them for use in a similar way.

As he worked he ponedered the course his life had taken, from a noble warrior he had become an instrument of evil, and escaped, becoming an agent of good once again, but his victory was short lived, unfortunately, his pain was growing by the day in these lightless depths, whereas before it had at least become bearable, the moments of despair always seemed to strike when he was feeling loss, such as in the chamber of the Silver, witnessing the senseless loss of one of Goodness's greatest heroes. His companions pitied him, Dantes knew more of him than the others, but Morguerat didn't really trust him, how could he, the man had claimed to be an ally, but had done very little in the true struggle against the one that Mods, providing only a distraction for the armies of both sides. Would he allow the man to cast a spell that would make him all but helpless? Would his companions use the chance to rid themselves of a possible loose cannon, a warrior with too much emotional baggage? Would Morguerat allow it? Perhaps he should "dispose" of his companions and continue on ahead, they all seemed motivated by greed, and as such could be subverted by that greed... But such thoughts were madness, and completely without a grounding in reality, for the moment. He would watch them carefully and at the first sign of darkness within them, they would all die by his hand.</font>

OOC: Don't worry too much, Morguerat is just rambling to himself, and trying to cope with the wind that constantly assaults him, mass particide is not a likely outcome from this, or is it? ;)

OOC: great post morgy. keep it vague who really knows with whom one can place trust, maybe I'll turn ya into a turnip instead, and feed you to our little gnome friends [img]tongue.gif[/img] j/k

[ 02-03-2003, 08:54 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

<font color=indianred>Brendon slept, but not peacefully. In his mind, shadows gathered. It was a dark road, and there was no escape from it. Always a laughter of evil triumph was to be heard, echoing far away, but ever closing in. The forums had nearly forgotten the Mad Mage that ruled here, not too long ago. Now, a strange presence...not to be identified, was at work. A presence of mysterious whispers that brought dread and fear straight to the heart. This presence controlled another power...a lesser power. And that power was the key to yet another dark road. There was no end to this road. Brendon walked it anyway. He kept his black trench coat pulled tightly around him as a dead wind kissed his cheeks and bit into his bones. He came to a cross-roads. Both ways were dark and promised death at the hands of unseen dangers. Which should he choose? Then he thought of his mist diamond. When he plucked it from his pouch, it was covered in blood, but not human blood. It was silver blood, like that of a Silver Dragon. The diamond soaked in the blood and glowed a pale, silver light. The light lit the pathways and showed Brendon that the left path was the correct choice, because it had trees. Strange trees, they were...but that was the path he was to take.

After a long while, a tree blocked his path. When he asked it to step aside, the tree bent down and offered Brendon a rod made of wood as a present. Brendon placed this present in his backpack.

At the end of this terrible journey, Brendon came upon a great land, covered in darkness like a blanket. The air was heavy and stale, and spoke of death. A great shadow loomed in the distance, like a great tower reaching towards the sky in defiance. Then the ground stirred. It spewed hot vapors from fissures that erupted and lava began to pour freely. Brendon tried to run, but had nowhere to go. He called out to his friends, to Syrathic...but there was none to answer. They had left him.

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

Brendon awoke with a gasp. He jumped up and hit his head on something above him, then fell back down. He looked around. He was in a small space that had become his bedding. They were nearing the village of the gnomes,,,probably able to make it there early on the morrow. He laid back down and breathed easy. It had only been a dream.</font>

[ 02-04-2003, 01:05 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic sat in a corner, wrapping the cloak around himself, completely hidden within the cloth. He positioned himself so that he could see both entrances to the open section they were resting in, just in case something stumbled across them.

The Elf happened to be sitting on the other side of the cave from Morguerat, and seeing the man awake, he took the time to travel the Elf-dream for a short time. He only needed an hour or so to be as rested as Humans after a full night's sleep.

When he came back to conscious thought, he found that Morguerat was still awake, eyeing each of them suspiciously. With the hood of his cloak pulled as low as possible, the large man would not be able to see the Elf's gaze, but Syrathic knew to not stare, else the man would surely feel his eyes on him.

The Elf was wary of the man. Of all the group, Morguerat was the one Syrathic felt least comfortable around. He'd even rather be around that woman Rhienneth (wherever she had gone). At least he knew where he had stood with her. He knew nothing of his position with Morguerat. It was unnerving to say the least. And especially now, he wondered what the man was thinking.

The Elf kept his silent vigil over the entrances and the large man until the others were ready to go. Finally, he rose from his position and stretched. "I'm ready whenever the rest of you are," he said simply.</font>

ooc: How many hit points did I regain from resting? Not sure which rules we're using on that.

<font color=silver>ooc: The party received the quivalent of a full night's rest, but in rough conditions. Dantes will also need a few hours on top of that to memorize and prepare his spells.

Given that we're talking about a total of 12 or 13 hours, those who have been wounded should recover 2 hit points.

<font color=turquoise>DMs Note</font> - Since this is the first time it has come up, it seems to be a good idea to clarify how I handle recovering spells:</font>

<font color=white>Spells are not automatically recovered or memorized on resting [this holds for clerics and sorcerers as well]. Time needs to be spent in memorizing them and preparing material components [Mages]; in prayer and communion with one's deity [clerics and druids]; or simply allowing one's magical energy and ability to focus and control it to recover after having been spent [sorcerers]. Depending on the number and level of spells involved, this can take as long as a couple days. Note that rangers and paladins would be handled the same way with regard to their spellcasting abilities.</font>

ruby and wyrd slept through the night, as comfortable as one could be with missing patches of fur. a grumbling lion had finally settled down and stopped licking the now almost raw patches that had been scraped.

this morning ruby and wyrd seem in a much better mood. smiling and talking to themselves. she cares for the sword again, shining and sharpening. *i am sorry that i have yet to prove myself worthy of you*

when they finish eating they begin to wait for the rest of the party. wyrd picks up one paw and shoves ruby's sitting form down. soon they are wrestling and playing like children. when they tire they sit silently. just lloking at them you know they are talking.

*oh, thankyou darling. my dreams were so disturbed. it feels good to play again. i thought i would be too scared to wake up. so vivid my visions of moguerat inviting a dark creature into his home, his heart. and seeing so many hurt.* wyrd nuzzles ruby and lets out the closest sound to a purr he has. *i hope it was not prophetic. i hate those dreams. to have to interpret such violence!*

OOC:i have based ruby's dream on one i had the other night. since most of her character is based on me it seemed appropriate.

[ 02-04-2003, 12:59 PM: Message edited by: RevRuby ]

<font color=silver>ooc: Sorry about the slowdown, folks -- I've just finished up two major writing assignments and I've simply been out of words for a couple days. I should have a few posts up Thursday.

Since I'll be away for 2 days over the weekend without access to the Net here's what I'll do so that things can move forward:

One of my posts will get the party to the gnome settlement. Anyone who wants to take care of something specific in the city can PM me the details and I'll respond in a PM that should allow you to post away in my absence and accomplish what you need. And, of course, roleplaying between the characters can go on in my absence. I should be back up to full speed by the end of the weekend. Again, I'm sorry about the slow down.</font>

<font color=white>Terrakis</font>

<font color=gray>The slaves dig, those dour and unbroken dwarves whose stern mettle lends them a defiant dignity. And as they dig they sing, their hoarse voices out of tune but keeping curious time with the movement of their tools.

<font color=plum>And it’s go boys go
they’ll time your every breath
and every day you’re in this place
you’re two days nearer death
but you gooooooooooooo</font>

The notes of their song and the sound of their digging reaches him where he stands looking out upon the broken city of broken race. The Drow were never important. Villains not even significant enough to include in the very first AD&D Monster Manual, that hard to find book from the days before TSR had hired good artists, beings not important enough to even be noticed in the great contest against the Modding Mage or to be sought out by the Mage himself as allies, creatures generally roleplayed as mere parodies of themselves by countless angsting Drizz’t clones, even their destruction here was but an afterthought. Perhaps some few of them survive in scattered game threads elsewhere on this board or as the objects of discussion in other forums or as silent avatar portraits whose appearance is but a function of the turning of posts, but here they are destroyed and brought to nothing simply for being in the way.

The city is what is important. Not the city itself, of course, with its buildings which stand as vacant reminders that a civilization which had believed itself important once made this place its home. No, nothing built here has any value. There is something about this location, however, which is important. Something beneath this collection of buildings and corpses. Something terribly ancient and long forgotten. Older than the Mage himself and, indeed, had the Modding One known of it, despite his fondness for Salvatore’s books, he would have brought the drow to nothing himself to possess it.

<font color=plum>..... and every day you’re in this place
you’re two days nearer death
but you goooooooooooo</font>

They sing while they dig, these slaves and that is good for the singing means they retain their vigor and their strength. And the digging of strong and vigorous slaves shall soon yield results.</font>

<font color=indianred>Brendon 61/70

Brendon had not rested well, but was fully awake and ready to move. He looked around to see his friends also either up or rolling out of bed. He looked forward into the tunnel that would lead them to the village soon. He was excited to get there. The monotony of the caverns and darkness and only adventuring food in his pack was beginning to get old real fast. He needed a change of scenery, and would love the chance at a bath.</font>

[ 02-06-2003, 12:21 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=silver> ooc: <font color=skyblue>TAO</font> - I have some stuff ready to go for your character. I’m just holding off since school seems busy your way and I’d rather not rush you.</font>

<font color=thistle>The rest has done them good despite the discomfort and unease which marked their slumber. Even Dellon fairs better now although his pain colored slumber seemed as haunted as that of any of the others here. Cedrick sits silently a while considering this most unusual of groups, a group both bold and capable and yet haunted and fragmented as well. ~ Strangers ~ the gnome thinks ~ They are strangers to one another. Thrust quickly together perhaps as groups that adventure so often seem to be ....... Were this simply an adventure like any other, some grand game of heroism, mayhap there would not be such tension ....... ~ He sighs. Yes, would that this were simply some form of game and he did not have such tragedy to bear home to his fellows. But the guardian has fallen and the humanoids have begun to move and the whispers of terrible giants seem to be true. ~ We are all awake after our slumber, but the nightmare has not left with opening of our eyes. ~ Turning to Kellor and Dellon he says quietly, “We must get quickly to the clanmaster for our friends need what aid we might supply them and there is much we must report.” Glancing at the mage who pours so intently over his books of enchantments, he continues, “Once he has finished his study, we must be ready to move.”</font>

OOC:<font color=skyblue>post away milord :D , and I will have a post up in tavern by saturday.... I am doing some research thru the old threads</font>

ooc: 2 whole hit points regained! Woohoo! :D

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:45/74

Syrathic looked at Dantes, still poring over his spellbook and sighed. "Looks like we still have a little bit before we're ready to go," he thought.

The Elf sat back down to wait. He only felt a little bit better than he had before, but he figured that it was better than nothing. His hands went to the purse, and he wondered how much money the jewels were worth, especially the ones that the others had left. He really wanted to buy some throwing knives, if available, and some healing potions. He was a bit under-equipped, but now was perhaps his best time to make things right. Hopefully, the Gnomes had stores that were well-stocked.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: Just moving things along so folks can do what the need to do in the gnome settlement over the weekend.</font>

<font color=thistle>The way grows narrow and small once more a short distance from the place of resting. Its turns are many as the passage bends sharply time and again in ways designed to frustrate the movement of larger beings. “There are places along the way where the passage might be sealed,” Cedrick explains as the group moves forward. The distance traveled is not long from endpoint to endpoint, but the winding way that is walked is long indeed. Long and tiring for those not of small size and as exhaustion makes its insistent presence felt in backs tired of bending and legs beginning to cramp from awkward movement, the way grows very tight and from behind a stone barrier a gnomish voice issues a challenge in one of the strange languages of this sunless world.

Cedrick speaks in answer and at what seems to be the faint singing of a note from a metal tuning fork the barrier moves aside. “Again, my friends,” the gnome smiles, “you shall need to squeeze yourselves through a small space. Be assured however, that there is some accommodation for those as large as yourselves to be found here.”</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: The party should be well received by the gnomes. Most basic supplies should be available for purchase as well as comfortable accommodations for resting.

Post away, folks! I’ll be back Sunday night. A great weekend to all [img]graemlins/happywave.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=silver>ooc: And the really scary thing is that was me being positively generous [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=silver>ooc: I'll have something up for you once I get back Sunday night, TAO. Enjoy the weekend.</font>

OOC>>>Well, at least we know we have two days of our lives left. I doubt much longer than that...but at least we have two days.
May Saturday last forever!!!!!!!!!!!

OOC>>>I suppose that everyone is afraid to initiate game due to not knowing what Cyril's rendering of the village is for these gnomes, therefore not wanting to step on his plans,,,you all hoped like I did that somebody would take the ball and run with it. Well...I guess that will be me, since I am the only one that can face Cyril's wrath if I am in error. [img]smile.gif[/img]

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 61/70

The party wormed their way through the entrance to the cavern that is the grounds for the gnomish village. It was larger than some of the adventurers had anticipated, and it all had a nice friendly atmosphere, with aromas of warm foods cooking and children playing. The senses were being teased as the party members strolled through the village, totally in delight and feeling that danger and death were years behind them.

Brendon separated himself from the group as he found a gnome sitting down upon the doorstep of his home, hammering out a dagger. He approcahed the gnome and spoke, hoping the little guy would understand him. "Excuse me, sir. Are you a Smith that I might buy weaponry and armor from?" To conclude his dialog and to ensure that the gnome was understanding him, Brendon took out one of his sapphires and held it out in his hand in a way that would hopefully imply trade, if that were the only language that could be spoken at this time. </font>

<font color=orchid>Anarrima Culurien 60/60

She could not believe what she was seeing! Suddenly, on a day like any other...a group of men and one woman with a lion entered the village! How they had gotten so far, and been granted this passage was beyond Anarrima's ability to understand. But here they were! She saw that they were very happy to be here, and were admiring the place with love. One human had turned to his own route as the rest were still looking around in awe and admiration for this meager village. Obviously, they had become quite homesick for being underground so long, and this was the closest thing to home that they might ever find for a long time to come. How long had it been for her? Too long, indeed, but now...this group of friendly-looking comrads might just be able to get her home. Anarrima started walking, trying not be appear too excited, and spoke to the first one she made eye contact with. Another elf. </font>

OOC>>>I am assuming that would be Syrathic, as I cannot remember the race of Dantes. Sorry!

<font color=silver>ooc: OK, Larry if you really wanna be worried, I can oblige [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=white>Terrakis</font>

<font color=gray>Long before the tales of Middle Earth found their way from Tolkien’s hand to the printed page H.P. Lovecraft scribed a tale of a world, a hidden and terribly ancient world lying hidden and terribly alive beneath the prosaic veneer of the mundane present. Years before the original Ravenloft module brought the strange and romantic nightmares of gothic horror into the ambient of 1st edition AD&D, a roleplaying game emerged out of the hidden terrors scribed in the tales of Lovecraft, a game that denied great combat skills to its heroes and in which advancement in knowledge and skill involved descent into madness in the face of horrors that could be resisted but not overcome. Such a game has no heroes whose fame will be sung only those who manage to survive for a time in the face of those things which tear the sanity away from minds which think too long about them.

Unrecognized and unnoticed by most IW members this strange game has been present within the roleplay forums, bringing but the briefest glimpse of Lovecraft’s mad universe to light before falling into quiet inactivity and dropping far below more actively posted threads. None ever acted to close off the open channel of horror within these threads and none ever explored the possibility that beneath the surface of a short-lived game may lurk a channel to a well-spring of terror, a terror hidden and horribly alive beneath the playful ambient of D&D inspired roleplaying.

None that is until Terrakis who has learned to pay careful attention to the whispers that live within the air underneath the Forums. The whispers have mentioned a most strange thing to him – lying deep and forgotten far below even the long buried blue boards is a strange yellow land, a land that had vanished before even the advent of the one called Larry whose might has given birth to the Giants of Shadow, a land whose long unspoken name has been spoken once more. The great change in the post count, a sign of no small power, was met with a stirring in a long forgotten roleplay thread and that stirring has grown great since the Unspoken has been brought to speech. The stirring has led them here to these slaughtered drow and their city placed as a barrier over the long hidden chamber where the great yellow sign marks the entrance to a long forgotten place.

Still they dig, his slaves, and still he waits for news of the yellow sign.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: You gotta like villains who keep themselves busy [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=indianred>For Brendon</font>

<font color=thistle>The gnome appraises the young man with a practiced eye. A sparkle in his eye he answers his visitor in his finest Undercommon. The sparkle in his eyes grows brighter at the young man’s puzzlement over the meaning of his words. Of course the gem has attracted his attention for it is a fine specimen.

As Cedrick has moved into the village in search of the clanleaders, Kellor steps forward to translate for Brendon. “He wonders why a bowman would be speaking with a smith and he is also very interested in the gem you carry.” Turning to Brendon, Kellor’s own eyes sparkle as he continues, “Now that I mention it ..... why are you speaking with a smith?” Laughing softly, a sound filled with relief after the tension of the last days, he adds, “What is it you are looking for?”</font>

ooc: I might've posted again, but I didn't want to have back to back character posts separated only by ooc posts.

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:45/74

Syrathic was amazed by what he saw as they entered the gnome settlement. It was larger than he had anticipated. Still, it was an enclosed area, no matter how big it was, and that always made him uncomfortable. He watched Brendon approach one of the gnomes, looking to trade. "Hmm... good idea," he thought to himself as he reached for the gems he has hidden in his cloak. "Maybe I can finally get some throwing knives."

The Elf fumbled through the folds of his cloak until he found a nice sized diamond. As he brought the gem out, his eyes came up and immediately looked into the eyes of another Elf, a female. He jumped in surprise and he instantly started to blush, which he hoped was concealed by the shadows of his cloak. "Another Elf!" he blurted out unthinkingly, dropping the gem he held in his hand, clearly caught off guard. He wasn't sure if the others heard him or not however, as he was too busy trying not to gape at the Elf. The sight of another surface Elf was certainly disconcerting for Syrathic. He was an outcast after all. "I wasn't expecting to see another surface Elf down here," he hastily explained, trying his best not to blush again. "If I may inquire, why are you down here? And how did you get into this village? I thought only Gnomes could bring you in here. Did you do something to save one of their lives?" He realized he was rambling and stopped abruptly, picking up the diamond. The Elf composed himself, and started again. "Excuse me for being rude. My name is Syrathic." He swept out a bow to her. "May I ask your name?"</font>

hanging back from her group and trying to avoid the looks of gnomes ruby attempts to circle the village fromt he outside, to get a feel for it and it's ppl. *oh it's been so long. so many ppl. i've forgotten how to act. perhaps i can ask someone else to do my trading for me. no darling i don;t think they'd understand you! a lion with a few bits of gold in his teeth might look like he's already ransacked one merchant.* for that wyrd comes up on both hind legs and pushes ruby down.

laughing she grabs both sides of his head and pushes him with the intent of him rolling off. he obeys even though they both know since he has grown she cannot over power him. the love and adoration in his eyes was very clear, even to bystanders.

again ruby moves to circle the village.

Dantes 76/76
Dantes moves through the village in quiet thought. His trained eyes picked through the villagers watching him move. They saw but a wandering shadow, but he saw so much more, he could tell their trade and hardships, and he could see the worry in their eyes. Despite all the seeming cheer there was definitely an aura of fear about the village. Dantes headed straight for the largest building in the village, assuming that would be the place where the leader would be. There was something wearing on Dantes. Maybe it was the oppression of the tunnels, or maybe it was the weight of the importance of this mission, maybe it was the curse of the Gods themselves for allowing the hunger to run rampant for so long. Whatever it was it was begining to show. His dreams were haunted by unspeakable nightmares, the likes of which he blocked from his memory when he eventually awoke, sweating, with his bedroll tangled about him as if he had been tossing and turning in a chaotic frenzy. One could tell by the bags growing daily under his eyes and the weariness in his voice. The strain was definitely pulling him taunt. Dantes thought only of what he would say to the leader of the settlement, and of what information and aid he would hopefully be able to gain from them. As the weight of the world rested on him he thought only of the task at hand, pushing the strain to the back of his consciousness. He stopped before the doors of the building and removed his hood. The shadows faded around him.
In perfect gnomish he declared "May the veins always be deep within your mines, and may the strength of your walls hold all enemies at bay." Dantes said in formal greeting "I am Dantes, I would have a word with your leader should he deem me worthy to address him."
With thus said Dantes bowed low and waited for word from the two stonefaced guards out front.

OOC: took a little liberty with this post if I need to edit anything for the sake of contiuity please simply let me know. I also wanted to establish the importance of our task and also build more with the claustrophobia and oppression of the underdark. PS. Dantes might be going a little insane too, so hehehe [img]tongue.gif[/img]

EDIT: spelling

[ 02-10-2003, 01:48 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

OOC>>>Great post, Az. I think you posted very true to your character, and laid out alot of good grounding.

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 61/70

"Well, actually I saw you sitting here, hoping you were a Smith of some sort, most obviously with weaponry, but I did not know if you had any other items available in the way of armory or trinkets that are endowed with special magical properties. Maybe a belt or a ring of some mysterious power. If there are any in this underground that posess such items, I would inquire as to their trade value...that I might make an exchange. As to weapons, I would just like to browse, if I may. Oh...and does anyone in town work with animal hides? I have one that needs tending to." </font>

[ 02-10-2003, 08:30 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=orchid>Anarrima Culurien 60/60

Anarrima giggled at Syrathic's nervousness and surprise at her appearance. It had been a long time since she had seen one of her own as well, but she was much too excited to be bashful.

"My name is Anarrima Culurien...though that is an ironic name due to where you find me this day. I have not seen the sun for an eternity, and know not what season it is above this horrid rock. I was captured long ago by the drow and taken to their city. The city was destroyed recently by giant creatures of shadowy nature...and that left an opening for me to run, finding my way to this village. I was discovered by the guard who took me in and nursed me back to health. Now, I seek a way back to the surface. When you leave this place, please take me with you! I must again breath the fresh air! My Lady-Goddess...Ahurani Fairhand, is awaiting my return to service. I serve as a cleric for Her."</font>

OOC>>>Syrathic, you might be the only one to realize that this Gold Elf that stands before you has a strong accent of Drow with a bit of gnomish mixed in. Nothing much is left of her original accent that is expected of a female high elf that claims service to a Goddess as a cleric. Do with that information as you will, but she probably does not even realize that she talks strange to you. It has been a very long time for her to even hear another surface elf's voice, and she is too excited to notice minor things like that.

[ 02-10-2003, 01:47 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

OOC: I thought I was the designated schitzo? lol, great post Az, I'll try and build off of it

<font color="99ff00">Morguerat 87/105

As the group had moved on Morguerat had taken great care that his prisoner would be off balance continually, first stuffing it's ears with scraps of cloth to dull it's sensitive hearing, and then at random spinning it to throw it’s sense of balance and direction off so that it would be more difficult to try and return if it managed to escape.

As they arrived in the Gnome settlement Morguerat looked around, watching the others go about whatever rituals they felt they needed. The knight had a small supply of gold and silver, but hardly enough to pay for the kinds of things he had planned, luckily for one as large, and broad shouldered as him there was little trouble finding work, be it in a smithy, or in the case of gnomes, reaching things from the top shelf. ( [img]smile.gif[/img] )

As he looked around he heard the gnome talking about the smith that Brendon was showing jewels to, and that the others were splitting up, he followed Dantes at a discreet distance with the grimlock in tow, perhaps the priests could question it, or failing that a nice painful death would properly serve the creature that defiled the body of a great silver Wyrm. Morguerat made no sounds as he followed and watched Dantes, and for once the ever present anger was absent from his gaze. (OOC: his visor is up once again)
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<font color=skyblue>For TAOWolf</font>

<font color=thistle>It twitters, or at least some portion of it does, this strange cacophony of mouths and voices. Sentences are spoken in a simultaneous rush to say things that results in little more than voices speaking past one another. Angry and violent outburst occurs at the same moment as nonsensical utterance and mono-syllabic sound. Laughing is followed by gibbering which in turn gives way to ranting, but never are the mouths silent. Always speaking and yet saying nothing, a confused babble of confusing words and puzzling sounds that moves along the slithering passage marked out by a formless body which is but a collection of mouths that insist on speaking and eyes that seek after prey. Perhaps such a creature is but the chaos-tinged amalgamation of distracting and pointless spam posts or the hellish remains of long-banned flamers but whatever its origin, it is a creature of incessant chatter and constant appetite.

There is a strange sound coming from the other side of the stone wall of this small passage and the creature’s many voices increase the pitch of their speaking. The stone becomes warm and three sharp blows echo from the other side and then the warm stone simply breaks apart and crumbles. Even the twittering jumble of voices pauses a moment at such an unexpected thing. Then several recently formed and curious eyes spy the shape of a woman and the mouths burst once more into a cacophony of speech and sound that seeks her ears and her attention. Many are the voices and they speak many words but there is no meaning to found within what they say. Many are the voices and many are the words and the only thing such speaking produces is confusion, the kind of confusion that shuts down a weak or unprepared mind .......</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: The monster is appropriately named the Gibbering Mouther, and it’s 30 hit points of nastiness and bloodlust. You’ll need to successfully resist the confusion its speaking creates before being able to do anything else, and your rather surprising entrance has given you the chance to successfully protect your mind.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=indianred>Brendon</font> - According to the details posted about your possessions, you are presently equipped with a +1 longsword. What do you mean by 'upgrade' -- do you simply want a better sword or would you like the existing sword made better [that will take some time] if that is possible?</font>

[ 02-10-2003, 06:02 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic HP:45/74

Syrathic blushed again when he heard the Elf giggle at him. He hadn't been around a surface Elf female since... he couldn't remember when, in fact. "Anarrima," he repeated as she said her name. "That's a very pretty name." He was trying not to be nervous, but he was still young after all, and it was a losing battle.

He listened closely as she spoke. Once he got over the beautiful music of her voice, he began to notice other things. For one thing, her surface accent was gone. In its place there was a Drowish accent mixed with something else that Syrathic couldn't put his finger on. But the Drow accent was unmistakable to him. Syrathic himself spoke Drow well enough to pass as a Drow, and had actually spent some time among them after an adventure in the Underdark had gone bad. How he managed to do that, he didn't know, but he knew he was lucky. But he was not upset in the least to hear that the Drow had been wiped out. While there were a few that were okay in his book, for the most part, the entire race had annihilation coming and deserved it.

"I'm not the leader of this party, so I can't give you my word that you can join us. But I can point you to those who can." He pointed at Morguerat and Dantes, who were walking away. "One of those two will decide. The huge one is Morguerat, and the other is Dantes. If I were you, I'd try Dantes first. The tall man can be a bit intimidating. But I hope that they allow you to come, Anarrima." He smiled absently, before hastily adding, "Because a cleric's healing powers would be of great use to us, of course."

Syrathic watched the Elf walk away in search of Dantes and Morguerat. He wiped his forehead with a hand in relief, then went over to Kellor. "Could you help me get supplies too? I'm looking for throwing knives and potions in particular. I have a few gems myself, by the way," he said, showing the diamond in his hand. "That's not the only one."</font>

as ruby reaches a hidden point in her journey she decides she has no desire to be th one to deal with ppl. her lack of human, or humanoid contact in recent years has left her with a great fear of common ppls. she reaches out with her mind. finding the one she wants she asks permission to enter and speak.

syrathic you feel something in your head. not unpleasant but definately not something you have ever felt before. even if you have had mental contact with other psionicists before, this is different. it is very timid. even before hearing the VOICE in your head, you know who it is. *may i 'speak with you?*

OOC:ruby has just used contact and mindlink to speak with syrathic. neither roll was a power score so all is normal