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

Syrathic smiled to himself as he saw Anarrima and Brendon coming his way. Well, to be more precise, the smile was only for the Elven girl, even if she couldn't see it. Once again, Syrathic had to fight his nerves as she approached, but luckily, he was able to gain control of himself as he rose to his feet before they came near.

Syrathic made himself take his eyes off Anarrima as Brendon spoke. "Would we be able to get in even if we wanted too?" he asked. "It seems to me that they'd have the place guarded while Dantes and Morguerat and the Elders are speaking. I'm not sure if they'd want to be interrupted." Truth be told, Syrathic really didn't want to involve himself in the talks. Of course, he'd follow if they decided to go in, but the Elf often found himself wearied by long speeches. He was more an Elf of action than of words.

He looked around quickly. "Either way, I have to wait for Ruby so I can give her the things that she requested that I obtain for her. Hopefully, it will not be long, but I'd appreciate the company while I waited."</font>

ooc: I'm sorry to hear about that Morguerat. I'll keep you and your family in my prayers.

No need to worry, Cyril. Take your time with things, we all know that RL is more important than this. [img]smile.gif[/img]

<font color=indianred>Brendon and <font color=orchid>Anarrima</font>

"Okay. I guess you are right. We will wait here for the others. Besides, we have better company than they!" Brendon smiled and looked over at Anarrima, who was busy talking and laughing with one of the gnomish children.

coming into sight of the others waiting for her, she gets her first glimpse of the elven girl. ruby starts to hum. she was so like carly...so like... as her humming comes into sync with her fears ruby calms down. clenching and unclenching her hands she regrets letting wyrd run off to play.

slowing her walk she sees that syrathic and brendon are enthralled with the woman. adoration and infatuation apparent to one so intune with others feelings. as uneasy as she is about her, it may turn out to be a good thing. not being the only girl in a party would be nice.

but the poor girl...'hopefully she is not unhappy about this attention.' ruby thinks to herself. as she reaches the group wyrd comes bounding up from behind her. before she can fully extend her hand out in greeting, the lion, ever protective, stands between them, ears laid back.

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

Syrathic chuckled at Brendon's comment. "I agree, my friend. Much better company," he said with a nod as he watched the Elven cleric play with the children. "A lovely slip of a girl, I must say. Well, maybe not. She's probably got many years on me."

He turned and saw Ruby coming their way. She hesitated before coming over, stopping near Anarrima. She reached out her hand in greeting, but Wyrd came out of nowhere to put himself between the two women. "I hope this doesn't turn out bad."

"Ruby, I have the stuff you wanted," he said, hoping to end the standoff. "I don't know if the hair brushes are the right kind, though. But they were the only ones I could fine."

"let me see one real quick...." ruby reaches her hand to him and takes an offered brush. before doing anything else with it she conks Wyrd on the head (not hard, but it is enough to get his attention.) the silent admonishment that brendon and syrathic know Wyrd is getting goes something like this *calm yourself. it has been many years since we've seen calry and this is not her. she has not cast a spell on these two. let us for once greet someone new with an open mind and not clenched teeth.*

looking up to the she-elf ruby smiles a small smile, "i apologize for wyrd's behaviour, i am ruby and this is my companion, wyrd. do you join our group?"

<font color="99ff00"> After Azrael had spoken while the gnomes were considering the impact of his words, Morguerat bowed, low, in appreciation for the words they had alredy offered, trust was hard to give in the lightless depths, and he knew they were fighting their basic survival instincts by telling them as much as they had, much as Morguerat had done when he had spoken of their mission, the information, and honesty were more likely to serve them and achieve the desired goals of gaining information, as well as alerting the gnomes to the scope of what they were up against, perhaps giving them the fighting chance that the Drow apparently had not even had... a truly frightening foe if it could dispatch a city of drow, (his assumption of what their hushed words had meant).

Morguerat's knowledge of the drow was mostly limited to hearsay, and unreliable tales told round the campfire, the one and only Drow he had met, had been in the company of the <font color="pink">Lady Galadria</font> (OOC: see Keldorns Order Building #2), the lovely Viconia, who had been far from a normal Drow, she had reurned from a subterranean quest to redeem the Drow, mostly unsuccessfully, if he recalled correctly.

But from all accounts when drow attacked survivors were few, tales were still told in another part of the forums of a great war of the drow, attacking the caves and hills of the mountain dwarves, and eventually being pushed back, into their lightless tunnels by peoples of all races, Men, Dwarves, surface Elves, Even a deep community of the Svirfneblin had arrived to battle the dark ones. They were not routed completely just turned away until the next time.

If this Terrakis was indeed still alive, or undead, he thought with a shudder, it would have to be unbeleivably powerful to decimate a city of drow, even if it caught them unprepared, drow are not ones to submit to any foe, ill portents indeed.

On the positive side however, his candor had been appreciated and it seemed the information he had bartered was worth more than the coin he had refused to loot from the dragons cave, not to mention easier to carry, and harder to lose to petty theft, or poorly made garments.</font>

<font color=orchid>Anarrima, speaking to Ruby

"Well met, travelor! My name is Anarrima, and as I was telling your companions here, I am a cleric by trade, and desire only to return to my home in Evermeet. I would like to travel with you, and lend aid as needed, though both of these gentlemen speak of a Morg...somebody that I will need to ask."

Anarrima looks over towards Wyrd and smiles...

"Where I am from, we have many animal friends like the one that travels with you there. Your lion friend is a magnificient creature!"</font>

OOC: I forgot I have another character to play around with ;)

From out the window of a nearby tavern Dankorona watched the rest of the party gather. They were talking with somone else, who appeared to be a surface elf. "What a strange group I've got myself involved with," Dankorona thought to himself. "Since when did we start picking up strays?" he though, and then shrugged to himself. Dankorona pounded what was left of his ale and then threw down the two copper pieces he had remaining and left the tavern. He still wished he knew what happened to his money pouch but that was a matter for a different time. He glanced at the gathered party for a moment and thought about joining them, before he disappeared into the shadows next to the tavern. He had never felt comfortable around any of them but Dantes. Instead he went about his own preparations.

OOC:more to come on this post but I have to go for right now

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

Syrathic reached into the sack that held the items Ruby had requested and pulled out a brush. As he handed it to her, he wondered what she would want with it at a time like this. The Elf's silent query was quickly answered when Ruby thumped Wyrd over the head with the brush. It wasn't a very hard blow, but it looked like it served the purpose of getting the lion's attention. "I'm sure glad I'm not him," Syrathic thought as he watched the scene unfold. It really looked like Wyrd was getting a bit of a silent lecture from Ruby.

The Elf reached into this cloak and felt Dankorona's now light money pouch. He hoped that Ruby had some coins so that the Gnome wouldn't come off so bad in the end, but he also felt that the Gnome deserved to be a little worse for the wear since he was foolish enough not to keep an eye on his money in the company of a thief. Syrathic was not usually one to steal from his companions, but in this case it had proved beneficial, as he was able to use the Gnome's gold to acquire things that would not be worth a jewel. Therefore, he reasoned that Dankorona deserved something out of it. But there was still time before he would give the pouch back.</font>

<font color=lime>For Morguerat and Dantes</font>

<font color=thistle>The Clanmaster looks at the mage, weighing the words of his response carefully before speaking. “You know much about our magic, but it is the knowledge of a one who is a surfacer and a wizard. We indeed have such a gem in our possession and it does in fact possess a power similar to what you have described, but such things are not the products of any magery we possess and are not things to be loaned and bartered like the items of power adventurers seem never to tire of trading and buying like so many tools.” He pauses to look at his visitors and to allow them to see the resolve in his own face before he continues. He glances at his advisors and is relieved to see no anger in their faces – the mage meant no insult in his request, that is obvious, but it must be made equally clear that this matter is not subject to negotiation. “The elemental gems are sacred objects consecrated by our priests and blessed by our gods and even to save our lives we could not place such things in the hands of outsiders.” Again he pauses that silence might punctuate his words with its clarity.

“As for information,” he continues, “that you shall have.” Turning to the blind gnome, he nods. Strangely the sightless advisor returns the gesture with a formal bending of his ancient neck. The elderly figure walks slowly forward and turns in the direction from which the visitors had spoken and begins to speak.

“Little is known of Euryale for she does not come forth to hunt with the humanoids who serve her and if any eyes have seen her they have not carried forth the tale of their seeing. The grimlocks fear her and they reverence her and because of her they have become fearsome and effective in their raiding when before they were but savages as dangerous to one another as to their opponents. She it is who has united the scattered warbands and she it is who will soon control the passageways to the West, and should she have the aid of more creatures of shadow such as you have described, she will do so all the sooner.” His sightless eyes stare vacantly ahead as he pauses in his speaking.

His voice is softer as he resumes, softer and frail sounding as if even to speak drains the strength of the heart. “To seek Terrakis is to seek one’s death, so is the proverb I was taught as a youngling. None of us has seen him, but all who dwell in these warrens of earth and stone fear him. Long ago it was that he came leading a band of others like himself, great in size and strength and without mercy or compromise in battle. They thrust aside ancient and mighty creatures in their seeking but what they sought no one can say. Terrakis led them into the deepest places and there followed a great shaking in the earth and a collapsing of the tunnels and many believed the great giant destroyed along with his followers. But so fierce an enemy, so mighty in his strength and so willing to destroy was he that he has haunted memories, a nightmare even to the great races of the Underneath. Time has a way, however, of turning memories into mere phantoms of thought and in time the nightmare became for many little more than a byword for the vague terrors one feels for no clear reason. Still, every time the earth has shaken these last years since the coming of the one called Larry, all would grow silent and wonder if for only the briefest of moments whether a dimly remembered nightmare might be awakened in such trembling. And now even the one who Mods has fallen, his tower in ruins and his power dispersed into the winds and the earth has shaken terribly in his fall. Mighty Adalon has been slain and even her eggs destroyed. The drow are no more and while that is cause for celebration only a much more terrible evil could have defeated them so quickly and with such ease. An elf who escaped from the slaughter of the drow brought with her a tale of giants fierce in battle and devoid of mercy ......” He stops speaking, the name of the nightmare heavy and bitter upon his tongue. His sightless eyes move from the mage to the Fallen and then survey the room. “Terrakis. It can be no other. Merciless and unyielding he is and he does nothing without a reason. Just as he sought the stone and so destroyed the dragon, so the drow perished because of something he seeks. And if so much death follows in his seeking, how much more might attend his finding?”</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=turquoise>DMs Note</font> – For our purposes, the shadow giants did not just destroy a single drow city, they have effectively destroyed the drow in the Underneath of the Forums as there are no other large drow settlements in this game. This is not the Underdark of other game settings.</font>

<font color=white>Terrakis</font>

<font color=gray>The sound of the messenger’s approach rouses him from his thoughts. Standing, he turns in the direction of the approaching footsteps. The news he had been expecting has come at last, it would seem.

“We have found it, Terrakis, just as you said.” The enthusiasm produced by promises kept following upon victory achieved fills the giant’s voice. “Just a short while ago, the slaves pierced the final layer of that curious stone. There is a chamber beneath it, spacious and lit with patches of a glowing yellow moss that lines its walls.” His eyes flash in excitement. “And I myself have glimpsed the doors and have seen the yellow sign.”

“Excellent, my brother! Tell me, what is now being done?”

“None of been allowed to enter once I left the place. The chamber is secured and the slaves have been ordered to work on the opening. The rest await your command.”

“Very well,” he says, “Return ahead of me and tell the others that I come. We will risk no errors now that the prize is so close at hand and I would see this fabled mark of yellow for myself.”

“Yes, mighty Terrakis.” The giant nods his obedience and turns, walking swiftly to the site of the digging.</font>

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

As the Elder stopped speaking Morguerat was visibly shaken, with all the allies their foe apparently had at his disposal, great generals, legions of troops, and a well armed, and relatively well supplied army, this was going to be more of a challenge than he had thought, the darkness around was amplified by the resurging spiritual pain that had plagued him since before their descent, a darkness within as it were, his wounds were only marginally better than they had been before, it was truly times such as these that he missed some of his granted powers that had been stripped, the spells, the ability to heal others as well as himself would have been of immeasurable worth now.

He hid it well but the pain of his wounds was great, and the bandages he had wrapped himself in were old, and in need of changing, but such things he would not speak of, he would sooner die than seek pity. His pain was his alone to endure, whether mental, spiritual, or physical he would not bow under the strain, and his limited experience as a field medic in the Order's campaigns gave him a useful knowledge base for treating his own wounds, the scars would likely not be a pretty site, but he had been cut far worse in his time, and likely would again before his days were done.

Turning his attention back to the assembled gnomes, Morguerat smiled, and pushed his prisoner towards one of the chieftains, "Perhaps this prisoner will be able to provide some information, I know low level patrols will not likely have any news of value, but you can never tell." He then thought for a moment "I fear we will need to seek counsel with our campanions, an immediate strike would be my preference, but we have many things to do that would require us to spend some time here, for instance healing, and I would like to be present while the dragons claws are worked, as well as offering any aid to the smith that I may."

ruby nods to the newcomer, "even if he is a bit impulsive he can be captivating. morgueratit hink is int he town hall or something similar. i'm thinking tho maybe we should stay out here. i'm not real fond of buildings, being enclosed and all," 'or being in one with sir morguerat at all," she thought to herself.

looking to syrathic she asks, "how much do i owe youf or our things, and what kind of rodents did you acquire?"

ooc: I'm here and ready to go on.

<font color=lightgreen>With a smile at Ruby, Syrathic told her the cost of the items, only adding in a slight delivery charge. "I was lucky I had some coins with me. I would've hated to part with one of the few gems I have left for such mundane items. You don't have to worry about repayment yet, but if you have it, I'll take it."

"Looks like the Gnome won't come out too badly from this exchange," he thought to himself. "Once I give him back the money pouch, of course."</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: Wow! It's been too long and it's great to be back.

Time to wake up the monsters .....</font>

<font color=gold>The Chamber of the Yellow Sign</font>

<font color=white>Terrakis</font>

<font color=gray>Mighty is the seal upon the entrance to the strange yellow land, that place older than the blue boards themselves. It is made of an unusual stone unlike any found elsewhere in these dark tunnels – unlike any, perhaps, found elsewhere in these forums. A single massive block fully half again as tall as the shadow giants and etched with the symbols of a language long unspoken, the great seal catches and reflects the glow of the yellow sign scribed upon the floor before it. The yellow sign is itself a curious thing, vivid and distinct with three hooked curls that shed a bright yellow colored light, and yet difficult for the eye to fully grasp as if there were dimensions to its form beyond the usual three. Standing before the seal and within the strangely dense light of the sign Terrakis is silent. He stands alone, having dismissed the others into the upper passage. He is daunted and even apprehensive for he has felt upon his dreams the disturbing touch of the slumbering nightmares sealed within that forgotten kingdom of yellow, things more ancient and perhaps more terrible than even the Modding Mage whose dark might was the source of the great strength he and his brothers now possess.

“Yes,” he says in a whisper filled with the strong honesty of fear, “I am afraid.” His eyes narrow at the words. “I am afraid!” his voice rises and the force of his words shatters the stillness that had persisted with unbroken constancy in this place since before the first discussion of the original BG game within the vanished blue forums. “I am afraid but I shall not be denied!” The echoes of his challenge ring in the chamber, filling the space with his defiance. Beneath the ringing echoes he speaks once more in lower but no less resolute key, “The Drow whose city was thought a sure barrier against any who would seek this place have been slaughtered and if that were not blood enough I have brought the death screams of the good to mingle here with the blood of the wicked.” He withdraws a carefully wrapped vessel from the pouch upon his belt and steps forward to stand upon the yellow sign. There is cold quality about the light over the seal that drains the tangibilty out of the very walls and floor of this place and everything around him takes on a dreamlike aspect as if nothing about him were real save the strange brilliance of the light cast by the sign upon which he stands. The dreamlike and shifting vagueness of the light grasps the edges of his mind and he knows that he must be swift if he is not to be lost within whatever mad realm is the source of such light as this. Holding the vessel in both hands, he breathes deeply and crushes it.

AAAAaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! !!!!

The death screams of Adalon sound once more through the Underneath of the forums and the agony of a noble life broken and destroyed fills the chamber.

For long minutes the screaming of the tortured dragon shriek within the cold embrace of the yellow light before falling suddenly and terribly silent. With the falling silent of the screams comes a fading of the light until the yellow sign itself is but a faints tracing upon the stone floor of the chamber. It takes a few moments to regain his bearings and as he does so relief is evident upon his face. Finding his voice, he calls up to his fellows, “It has been done! Quickly now - what we seek lies within our grasp!” Once again the stillness of this place is shattered as with heavy and rapid strides the giants of shadow enter the chamber.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: I'll have some more posts up tomorrow.</font>

Dantes 76/76
After excusing himself from the counsel meeting Dantes wandered the tight streets of the tiny gnomish town. He couldn't help but think of the ominous fate set to await these poor villagers should the party fail in their mission. Down an alley Dantes spotted a gnomish mother and child clinging together, lying in a pile of rags. As Dantes approached the mother gnome gripped the child a little bit tighter and look at him suspiciously. Dantes asked what was wrong. It was explained to him that her husband was a guard that was taken prisoner by the drow months ago. Since then the family had come on hard times and was forced from their home onto the street. Dantes couldn't help but notice the fear and desperation in the eyes of the small child being held tight by her mother. Dantes knew that a fate much worse than that would await them should they be unable to stop the hunger, a fate worse than death. dantes reached into his pouch and grabbed his 3 largest gems. He quickly wrapped them in a rag and laid them before the downtrodden mother. He knew it wasn't much but hopefully it would enough to help them a little bit. With that done, and his resolve reaffirmed, he set about trying to find the rest of the party.

<font color=silver>ooc: OK - to get things up and running again, I’m going to assume the group will spend sufficient time in the settlement to be fully healed and rested as well as to take care of the miscellaneous business each party member would like to address. There’s no need to roleplay this in a play-by-play manner so let’s begin with following notes:

<font color=lime>Morguerat</font> - You can assume that you will be allowed to take the lead in interrogating the prisoner. Go ahead and set the stage for that and I’ll PM you the details. The smithwork you requested will be expedited given the importance of finding some way to stop Terrakis.

<font color=plum>Dantes</font> - You might want to take advantage of the time here to see if you can learn anything about the runestone you found near the silver dragon’s lair. You might also be able to trade for or purchase a number of earth-based spells.

<font color=lightgreen>Syrathic</font> - If your character has any skill with traps, you can take advantage of the time here to gather sufficient materials to construct a few that you can then take with you.

<font color=indianred>Brendon</font> - If I remember correctly you wanted to see about crafting some arrows that could enchanted – with some hunting you might be able to find a smith who can make some fine arrowheads. Let me know what you’re thinking and I’ll PM you some more details.

<font color=orchid>Anarrima</font> - Between healing the members of the group, getting to know them and preparing for the adventure, you should be pretty busy. You might want to think about scribing a few scrolls – assume that as a gift from the gnomes you have received an ivory scroll case marked with the symbol of your deity that will easily accommodate a number of spell scrolls.

<font color=turquoise>Ruby</font> - There’s no need to hang away from the settlement. Let me know what your character is interested in doing with these few days.</font>

OOC>>>It is gonna take me a bit to get back into my character personas...
let's see what I can make of it.

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 61/70

After having a long and interesting discussion with the group that had gathered with him, Brendon suddenly realized that he had put off finishing his tasks of preparing for this terrible war they were all about to commence on this evil that lurked in darkness. Receiving aid from Anarrima on where to go to find certain items he would need to acquire, Brendon excused himself from the present company and began to look for the shops that the elf had told him about.

First, he had to find some arrow-heads. This was easy enough, as there was a gnome that loved to build weapons that were projectile in sort, and were mostly bullets or bolts for a crossbow. Brendon discussed what he needed, and showed the gentlegnome what the specifics were. The gnome had several arrowheads that were just right. They were made of hardened steel that had been infused with the dust of crushed jems. They were the most beautiful arrowheads that Brendon had ever seen, and were certainly costly. Both of his golden nuggets and his one ruby were used to pay for 20 arrow-heads.

Next on his list was the wood needed for the shafts. Again, this gnome had some good wood, but wasn't ready to part with it. Using mostly metal to craft shafts for his bolts, he was reluctant to sell his prized wood...for it was a very hard item to come by in this place. Metal and gems were abundant. Still...he did understand the mission that this crew was on, and finally agreed on selling the wod suitable for Brendon under the condition that he trade his two diamonds and his +1 longsword. This time, it was Brendon that was reluctant...but gave in, because he really wanted that wood. It was the best wood he'd ever laid eyes on...very seasoned, strong.

Returning to the street, Brendon then began trying to follow the instructions of Anarrima and find the magic shop in town. He wanted some feathers for the fletching job, but wanted magical-based ones. If he was putting so much trouble into these arrows...they were darned suer gonna fly right. And fast. Locating the shop, Brendon tiptoed into the room and was greeted by another warm face of a gnome that loved to do business. By this time, the word had gotten around that rich outsiders were on a spending spree. Brendon explained what he was loing for, and asked for advice, for he knew little of magical beasts and their potentials with feathers and the sort. The gnome thought about it for a while, obviously never having considered the use of feathers for arrows before. Turning to his books and notes, he finally came across some useful information about fletching with magical feathers. Running back to the storage room of his, he quickly returned with the items he sought. Feathers of a hippogriff were contained in a leather satchel. They were costly, of course...and Brendon surveyed his inventory to see what he had that could be used to pay for the items. What he had left that he was willing to part with were only two sapphires. This was not enough. He looked at the skin of the shadow mastiff. The gnome would probably accept it as an even trade, but Brendon did not want to part with it. Yet, realizing that if he wanted this bag of feathers, he'd have to...he finally...reluctantly conceded and passed the skin across the table. The gnome's eyes lit up with excitement, because this skin was worth more to him in the underdark than those mangy feathers. He readily accepted them, and even gave one sapphire back to Brendon.

Now having all the items he needed to do his crafting...the only thing left would be to get them enchanted after they were built. </font>

[ 05-19-2003, 11:19 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=orchid>Anarrima 60/60

Returning to her home for a while, Anarrima began making ready for departure. She knew she had to get to work on some spell scrolls. She had not yet met with the one called Morgeraut, but assumed that since everyone else had accepted her into the party...he would as well.

Grabbing a quill and some ink, she sat down over her parchements and began transcribing syllables and phrases onto them. There came a knock at the door shortly after she began. The gnome that had entered was a dear friend of her's...the gnome that sold magic items at his home. Smiling as he saw what she was doing, he pardoned himself and offered her an item, wrapped in a cloth. Speaking in broken common, mixed with what elvish he had been taught, he said...

<font color=white>Turr'eth: "Lady-elf...I want have this you. It bring good fortune to you travel. Take! Remember gnomes when away."</font>

Anarrima's emotions got the best of her. With tears of mixed feelings, she stood and hugged the little gnome that had helped her so much. After he left, she opened the cloth to find a scroll case of Ivory. On it was scribed the name Ahurani Fairhand, her goddess. It was a most magnificent item, very strong and well-crafted.

For the longest time, Anarrima sat and scribed her scrolls, and when she had finished...she placed them into her new case. Being drowsy from so much concentration however overtook her, and she fell asleep on the table where she was working.

</font>

Spells scribed by Anarrima that have been approved by the DM.

• Heal x 2
• Dispel Magic x 2
• Light x 1
• Continual light x 1
• Sunburst x 1

[ 05-19-2003, 11:19 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

ooc: Glad to be back, I hope we don't have to take another break like that for a long time [img]smile.gif[/img]

<font color="99ff00">Morguerat 87/105
After recieving permission to interrogate the captive, Morguerat moved them into a solitary room, and asked for a comprehend languages spell for each of them as a boon.

The "interrogation" was a long and rather brutal affair, not knowing what information the captive had Morguerat poured all his hatred, despair, and lost sense of direction into making the grimlock talk. The spell allowed him to understand the garbled and often confused ramblings of the captive, the torture paused only long enough to bring the humanoid back to consciousness. Morguerat attempted to make the creature feel the tiniest fraction of what he had experienced in his own breaking. From the timbre of the screams his work was quite effective, in the end the poor creature was left a broken husk, its eyes burned out, tongue cut out slowly and painstakingly with an arrowhead, the stump then burned to prevent too much bloodloss. Fingers, toes, hands, wrists, feet and ankles all broken and then severed, the creature was freed finally by a quick twist of it's neck, killing it once all the information had been gleaned. (OOC: I'll leave it to Cerek what I learned, hopefully everything from the creatures family tree, to what room they dump garbage in their home)

IC: After the interrogation Morguerat asked for a reputable inn to clean himself up in, as well as to bed down for a few days to heal up. As he walked out of the council chambers a small part of him wept at what he had done, but it was silenced by the knowledge that the ends justified the means.</font>

[ 05-19-2003, 03:49 PM: Message edited by: Morgeruat ]

<font color=silver>ooc: During the slowdown, the anniversary of an event of no small significance came and went unmarked ..... Until now that is.</font> [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img]

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

<font color=cadetblue>Even the grasses pause today in their silent encroachment upon the rancid and debris-choked waters of the moat. Posting has continued upon the boards in indifference to mighty pile of broken stone that marks the spot where one year ago as the software of these forums reckons the dating of posts the one called Larry was slain in desperate battle. Post counts are happily spammed into ever increasing numbers and the usual recurring questions are posted in the game forums and other rpgs proceed apace in the ebb and flow of their story, and here at the very center of the Inner Forums there is naught to mark so singular a day save a mute pile of jagged rubble surrounded by a stagnant tarn and kept company by the silent swaying of an unusual grass within a wind whose aspect has taken on a decidedly malignant cast.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: Happy belated anniversary.

I'm waiting on posts from Ruby and Syrathic before moving things too much farther along.</font>

[ 05-20-2003, 03:52 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

ruby hands syrathic what he has asked for. "i-i suppose wyrd and i will find a place to camp. i have my doubts he'll be allowed in an inn." she sighs and turns away. looking back she says, "i will be around. if you call my name wyrd will hear and let me know. i will be ready whenever."

walking away her gait is slow, almost reluctant. by the direction her head is cocked anyone watching knows she is talking to wyrd.

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=turquoise>Ruby</font> - There is no space outside of the village suitable for camping. You’ll need to stay with the group. It should be possible to arrange for space to stay in one of the buildings – there’s no need to go into great detail roleplaying that.</font>

<font color=lime>For Morguerat</font>

<font color=thistle>The guards assigned to the task are silent as they work. The brutality of the interrogation is obvious and the utter joylessness of it is puzzling. Grim, relentless and bearing the anger of a deep pain. Fallen. They are silent as they clean the space, as silent as the tall man of broken nobility who has just left. There is nothing to say and so the work in silence. There sleep over the coming days, however, will not be so quiet.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=plum>DMs Note -</font> Obviously a definite alignment shift has taken place. I want to stress, however, that none of the party was present for the interrogation and will not be aware of this for the present.</font>

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

Syrathic smiled absently as everyone parted ways again, his eyes following the Elf maiden a little ways. Then he sighed softly, shaking his head slightly. "And once again, we all go our separate ways. It seems that we're more of a haphazardly thrown together group than I thought." He thought for a moment to himself. "Well, I might as well see if I can find anything else that might be of use to myself."

After a few moments of searching, he found the Gnome that had helped him procure that nice theiving equipment. "Wait! What is his name? Think Syrathic! You can't just call him Gnome, especially since he's been so helpful." It was a minor fault of his, but he had been working hard to fix it.

Syrathic thought back, and just before he called out to the Gnome, he recalled the name. "Hey, Kellor! Can you help me again?" he asked with an embarrassed grin. "You seem to be very knowledge of my craft, so I was hoping you could help me find some lock picks or some climbing gear."

When Kellor nodded, Syrathic sighed with relief. He was emotionally drained. "I hope we have a day to rest and recuperate," he thought as he followed Kellor.</font>

Dantes looked over and was pleased with the accomodations that the gnome council had offered him. Even though they were not able to help overly much, the loaning of this room and the 2 retainers was a great relief to Dantes, as he had so much to do and so little time to accomplish it. Dantes pulled out several scrolls he had scribed the day before and gave it as well as all his remaining money to the gnome and then sent one him out to the nearest magical scroll shop to try and trade for some spells that would be of greater use to him Dantes also gave the gnome instructions to find the rest of the party and bring them to the building the council had loaned him for them. Meanwhile Dantes and the other gnome hauled the heavy runestone into the middle of the room and, with the help of the gnome, Dantes began examining it and testing it, trying to discover the magical means by which this runestone was created, and unlock its secret. Obviously it wasn't too effective against whatever killed the dragon, but none the less it was a pwerful magic, not to be dimissed. Discovering the secrets of the runestone would not be easy, and he knew he didn't have a lot of time. Dantes worked as if a man possesed. He worked long into the night, and well after the gnome returned with his spell scrolls and change, and long after both the gnomes left for the evening only to be replaced by different gnomes. He continued to work as these gnomes lapsed into slumber, and the only sounds heard throughout the town were the quiet snores of the slumbering gnomes. And the muted chanting of a certain mage as he tried to unlock one of the secrets of the fallen dragon.

OOC: Ill leave what scolls I actually got up to you, and how much they cost, you can PM me or post otherwise. I would list them in the order of my what I would prefer. #1 stone to flesh x2, #2 passwall x1 #3 stone shape x1 #4 move earth x1 #5 wall of stone x1 #6 transmute mud to rock x1 #7 transmute rock to mud x1 #8 flesh to stone x 1. I think I had two jewels left and whatever coin I started with. I will also leave my progress on the runestone up to you as well, either post results or PM them to me and I will post as needed.
Glad to be back in the swing of things, and glad to be back with you all.
-AS

[ 05-22-2003, 05:32 PM: Message edited by: AzRaeL StoRmBlaDe ]

OOC>>>A little history lesson, or at least a review so that you can all remember. Tis not good to soon forget.

<font color=steelblue><center><font size=5>Know thy Enemy</center></font size>


* This is a summary of the Mad Modding Mage of Ironworks. Some detailed information that has never been introduced can be found here.

Long ago, in the Mad Mage’s history, he was simply known as Larry. He was a respected member of the Ironworks’ family and a bit on the quiet side. He never had much to say or quarrel over in many threads that made up the world of Ironworks. Eventually, the Overlord Ziroc saw fit to bestow Larry with the Power to Moderate. He was given a realm of his own to tend to and nourish. It was known as the Role-Playing forum. On this forum, began many adventures that Larry became involved in. He met a lady in one of those worlds named Mistral Freelight, who he loved very much. After many adventures and near death experiences, Larry and Mistral were wedded. Their new lives together would not last long, however.
<font color=cadetblue>Much turmoil came about in the forums in those days. In the wake of it all, Mistral died, yet not honorably. She had fell into instant and passionate love with an elf as her true feelings were revealed to her in the shadow of death. Larry happened across this discovery as she lay dying, and he raised he sword in terrible anger in an attempt to strike down the elf. As fate would have it, the sword was an enchanted or rather cursed blade that belonged to the family of the elf that Larry tried to slay. As he brought the sword near to the kill, the sword refused to strike it’s true heir, and instead flew widely away from the elf and struck Mistral instead, killing her. Larry’s pain and anger was so great that he found himself actually changing alignment. He had been Chaotic Good his entire life, but now his heart had turned to that of Neutral Evil. He cared neither for his life nor any other’s, and roamed the forums many years with no direction nor hope. </font>

This is when Larry’s fate caught up with him, because in those days, he had been reading much on the History of the Netherese. These people were found in old documents and novels that were scattered across the bookstores and internet. The Netherese were mighty in their power and were considered Gods. Their story shall not be told here. Let it suffice to say however that one of these men had discovered a demi-plane of Shadow, where new magic that had never been seen on this website before existed. It was based on it’s own weave of shadow, and tied not with the weave of Magic governed by Mistra, Goddess of Magic. In fact, the demi-plane had been created in defiance of her by another Goddess. All of this, did Larry learn about and read about. Finally, he realized that this power could be his, if he worked hard enough for it. Many months did he study, driven by anger and hatred for goodness and light. He learned about the creatures and denizens of Shadow. He learned about the magics and the powers. He learned about how shadow could become strong like unto stone, or used as gateways to other points of darkness. At some point, it is rumored that Larry gave himself over to the Shadow, thus becoming a new entity that is horrible to talk about. Few even remember this creature in their old first addition Monster Manuals of D&D. The stats were never carried over to newer prints of this book. Yet it has never been confirmed that such a transformation had occurred. Many hoped that it was simply rumor.
Larry, dubbed by some as the Mad One or the Modding Mage, began his reign of terror soon after. Many threads were visited and harassed by Larry’s powerful force. He created many terrible beasts and worst of all…a tower of powerful magic sown together by shadow. It rose menacingly in the air in defiance of the sun. The land all around it died and rotted. Worst of all, nobody could expect to fight the Mage and win, or live. Not until a man by the name of Cyril Darkcloud came along. His rebellion that he rasied brought the Mage down, as well as his terrible tower. To this day, the land still seems haunted however. The darkness has never quite been washed away, and the ruins of the tower are told to be of the coldest ice to the touch. Death is in the air like a heavy fog. Nobody except the most desperate thieves will even attempt going there to loot the place, though none of them ever walk away with what they intended, if they walk away at all. </font>

[ 04-10-2005, 06:41 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=silver>ooc: Just thought I’d lighten the mood a little [img]graemlins/blueblink.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=cadetblue size=+3>DOOM</font>

<font color=cadetblue>The single syllable echoes through the lightless depths, a shout composed of numberless hoarse voices whispering in unison. The slow and heavy air rings with the note of its impact. DOOM. Again and again the terrible note rises from tongues without number or name as if the death cries of the fallen dead of the roleplay threads of the forums had suddenly found sufficient life on their desicated tongues to utter a single common syllable. DOOM. An oppressive word that will be neither ignored nor denied, it rings in the hearing of all who dwell in these lightless warrens so far below the open skies of the forums. Heard by all it names the common fear of all. DOOM. The lifeless whispers gasp as one in the wake of a great reaching out of ravenous appetite, an appetite grown so great that the seal upon the Yellow Kingdom is no more. DOOM. The hoarse groanings of the dead call out as a troop of giants thrusts aside guardians ancient and terrible. DOOM. A voice rings out in a timelost chamber inisisting that none shall contest its claim and a mighty hand snatches books written in a blasphemous tongue and bearing secrets best left buried and forgotten. Even the dead shudder in their sleep as the nightmare grows strong. And the Underneath of the Forums shudders a moment as a lifeless host murmurs DOOM.

And beneath the whispers of the dead sounds a gleeful and malicious tone as the very air which bears their voices forward exults in its message.

<font color=skyblue>Yes! O yes!</font>

Soon the air shall grow still once more but the portent it bears shall weigh heavy upon hearts already oppressed by gloomy foreboding and beneath its stillness a hidden laughter shall linger.

And so it is that the first great blow has come to be struck.</font>

<font color=white>Credit where credit is due – the above is a riff on Walt Simonson’s classic storyline that began in Thor #337 [I used to collect comics].</font>

[ 05-23-2003, 11:27 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

<font color=silver>ooc: I forgot to note this above -- Very nice post, Larry [img]graemlins/thumbsup.gif[/img] </font>

<font color=plum>For Dantes</font>

<font color=thistle>Long has the mage labored to fathom the stone and yet there is a peculiar and defiant character about the object. The runic mark it bears at first seems a clear and distinct symbol of some rare and arcane tongue. The longer one studies it, however, it becomes clear that there is a subtle instability about its form, a slight shifting of the angles of its lines as if it were a series of alternating runes. But there is no clear pattern to be discerned in the shifting of its lines and no obvious series of symbols to be seen. The stone itself does not change but the marks cut into the stone somehow shift. There is, further, a danger about the stone, a magic of another kind that has been overlayed upon it. Patient study bears some fruit, however, and two enchantments can be discerned. One seems to obscure the character of the stone and contain its power and the other an enchanted trap of some sort, a spell designed to destroy any who would seek to remove the obscuring veil upon the rune.</font>

[ 05-24-2003, 01:12 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

<font color=silver>ooc: <font color=plum>Dantes</font> - I missed the edited part of your post – sorry about that. Let's assume that you can easily manage your top 5 choices as well as sufficent ink and materials for scribing the new spells into your books.</font>

[ 05-25-2003, 04:04 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

<font color=silver>ooc: Figuring that TAO will find her way back here eventually....</font>

<font color=skyblue>For TAOWolf</font>

<font color=thistle>The brilliant flaring of light is followed by a searing touch of twin arcs of fire that race outward from the woman’s staff. The creature is inured to such things as flames, however, and, while stung, its wounds are not so great as to give it significant pause. The light and flame provided sufficient distraction for the woman to lose herself and the many eyes of the creature look for her without success. Still, movement is limited in an area so small as this and as the gibbering speech of its many mouths rises again to fill the air of this space with its noise, the ground grows soft and muddy. Gathering its vague shape into a mass the creature rears back in readiness to spring outward at the first indication of movement or struggle in the muck. As the ring of mud extends outward, making movement difficult, smoke rises to fill the chamber. Once more the creature pauses.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc: The mouther has been damaged for 10 hit points. Movement will be very difficult due to the mud. The mouther does not seem to be affected by the mud. The initiative is with you, however, as the creature is distracted.</font>

<font color=silver>ooc <font color=turquoise>DMs Note</font> – As we have a number of disparate actions taking place in the gnomish settlement, each of which is on a bit of a different timeline, let’s I’m going to make a small adjustment to things in the hope of helping things to move forward smoothly.

1. The gnomes have made a building available for the group to use and it is stocked with basic supplies. This can be considered to be a ‘home base’ of sorts during the group’s time below the surface.
2. It can be reasonably assumed that the entire group will be together at some point each day.
3. <font color=blue>Anarrimma</font> - Assuming the wounded members of the party are willing, go ahead and make sure the members of the group are fully healed.
4. <font color=lime>Morguerat</font> - Will you be looking to do anything else in the settlement other than working with the smith?
5. <font color=plum>Dantes</font> - The work will take some time, but the group will be here for a number of days. Let’s see you put those magic skills to use ;)
6. <font color=indianred>Brendon</font>, <font color=lightgreen>Syrathic</font> and <font color=orchid>Ruby</font> - Let me know if your characters have anything else planned for their time here.
7. At some point the group is going to have to figure out its next course of action.
8. At least a day has passed so far, I’m inclined to say 2 given the amount of activity. This means that there is no need to roleplay characters meeting up. That being the case, we can assume that the group has been and is sufficiently together for those characters who need to speak with one another to do so without going through the gymnastics of roleplaying how to meet. Let’s concentrate our roleplaying energy on interactions between the characters and on moving the story forward and not get lost in trying to do a turn by turn playing out of the time here.</font>

<font color=99ff00">After the group had organized themselves and gone to the building Dantes had secured for their use, Morguerat relayed the inforation he had gathered from the grimlock, Euryale is some kind of female… creature, the grimlock referred to it as both a woman and monster, she is greatly feared, and values the grimlocks because of their blindness. A rough map (hope I’m not taking too many liberties Cyril, but I figured between the info I got and the locals I could get some written directions) to the lair, along with an estimate of how many guards are on duty at any given time (4-6 shadow hounds with elite warriors, logically the number is likely increased due to missing patrols). Additionally Euryale seems to be the only thing uniting the grimlocks, removing that leadership would cripple the war bands, or at the very least give them more to worry about from each other as they fall to bickering about who is most fit to lead.

Anarrima received a rather cold reception from Morguerat who, after being introduced, muttered for a while about deadweight and protecting someone who would likely only bring them danger, but after he was done blustering and scowling he told her she was welcome to tag along (refusing any sort of magical aid to his injuries, but taking any non-magical aids, such as salves ointments, stitches, etc)

When he learned of Dantes’ attempts at unlocking the Runestone, he offered his own unconventional talents in unlocking the magic (ooc only for about 2-3hours if nothing is gleaned I’ll go back to work with the blacksmith) then suggested that Anarrima check it, perhaps if the wards were woven with priestly magic they would baffle magic users, but not a priestess.

</font>OOC during my time with the blacksmith I’ll see what can be done about preserving the cloak, if nothing cheap can be done I’ll attempt to trade it provisions (food, lamp oil, lantern, etc)

P.S. Larry, could you delete my last post, I am unable to

<font color=skyblue>Larry says: Done.</font>

[ 05-30-2003, 04:37 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 70/70

Brendon listened to the discussion on the grimlocks and pondered this optional course. Speaking up he asks, "Where do the giants fit in on all of this? We have been told that they are more likely the biggest threat. Are they working for this Euylee...person"? He looks around the room and stops on Anarrima. </font>

<font color=orchid>Anarrima Culurien. 60/60

Anarrima had been busy that day in helping her new friends with whatever ailments that they had endured. She worked extra hard to heal them as much as possible because this was her time to prove her worth. She had been insulted by the human leader that had insisted she would be burdonsome and of no help, then disallowed her to prove her worth with the divine art she had been granted. However, she was able to find some moss in the area of the cavern where they resided that held minor healing tendancies when boiled and applied to any wound, and covered with a clean cloth. She also had some brew she had concocted that was made from the urine of cave bats that helped take away the stinging pain of some cuts. The gnomes had of course taught her all these things when they discovered her love of healing and growth. She now was finishing up her labors and was cleaning up the products that she had brought out to use. </font>

<font color=indianred>Brendon Grey 70/70

Brendon watched her and realized that she only drew near to Morgeraut when no other route presented itself. When she did, her head was low as to not obtain eye contact with him. This was not good. Already, contentions begin to stir in our ranks. Brendon wondered what had become of this man. He was a hero, as he remembered it in the story he had read long ago of the Mage's days. Maybe he was just tired or worried about the burdon of the responsibility and journey ahead.

Finally he finished his last arrow. He now held a quiver full of newly crafted arrows aside from his quiver of never-ending arrows. But these last ones were to be different. They were already considered of extra fine quality, and the feathers ensured a perfect, direct flight. These arrows were worthy of an enchantement and he knew what he wanted in them. Speaking up before anyone had a chance to digest or answer his last question, Brendon put in..."Oh...Dantes? I was wondering if you had the ability to place an enchantment on these arrows that they be endowed with a lightning spell, each? Sorry for interupting, everyone...I am just really into arrows, you know?"</font>

[ 05-30-2003, 09:33 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

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

Syrathic decided to take advantage of the time in the gnome village to rest and recover. He had been one of the worst off from the battles in getting this far, so this was welcome indeed. And he was especially pleased to have a chance to talk to the Elf maiden, engaging her in idle conversation as she attended to his wounds. It was nice for him to finally speak to another Elf; it had been a long time since he had had the chance.

Syrathic began to help Anarrima with her supplies as he listened to Morguerat recount what he had learned from the grimlock. Ominous news, to say the least, especially when Brandon reminded everyone of the giants. If they were both working together... this was going to be quite the task. Not that it wasn't already. "Well, at least we have another lead to investigate," he said.

He also noticed Anarrima's avoidance of Morguerat. "He's a very gruff man. Sometimes I wonder what goes through his head," he said to her, lapsing into Elven. "Most of the others tread lightly around him as well, as do I. But he has proven his worth in combat, as evidenced by my standing here now." He paused for a moment to think. "Yet I wonder if he actually likes any of us, or just tolerates us because our goals are the same."</font>

<font color=orchid>Anarrima 60/60

"I thank you for those kind words, Syrathic.

It has been a long wait indeed for me to have the chance to converse with another of my kind. I have been in this terrible darkness far too long. I miss the stars. Tell me, what of your family? From where do you travel? </font>

ruby, being the loner that she is, has been spending her time with wyrd. wherever they can be without lots of ppl around they are comfy. she appreciates the hospitality towards her and her companion, but sincerely wishes to leave. she at times feels as tho the walls of their inn room are closing about her, and other times that the whole world has shrunk to the size of one gnome village.

her attempts to meditate and gain clear thought and even to contact the psionic sword have gone badly. she feels her skin crawl around morguerat, and her insecurities taunt her.

she at first thought the surprise new female elf to their party was good but now she finds syrathics time taken with her, and ruby no longer feels comfortable trying to make conversation with him.

at night her dreams are becomming more and more horrific. moslty of morguerat and an impending evil that refuses to name itself. but sometimes it is simply of being locked in a small box, without wyrd, without weapons, without power. at times she is woke up by a pounding on her bedroom walls. when she begins to think clearly she knows that she has been the one pounding.

OOC: re:last post if my dag-nabbit husband would only log himself out when he is done using my computer!!!! that is my post!

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

"My family is no longer... alive," Syrathic began softly in Elven, voice faltering as he looked away from the Elf maiden. He sighed, but composed himself again immediately after. "They were all killed about 50 years ago, when I had seen but 40 years. I... don't like to speak of those events, mostly because I do not remember much about it except..." He paused to remember why he had begun adventuring in the first place: revenge for the slaughter of his parents. But when he turned back to Anarrima, he smiled and said with a small chuckle, "I'm much younger than you probably thought. I don't look my age any longer, though. Growing up alone and having to fend for yourself does that, I suppose.

"I actually spent a good portion of my time after... with a group of Human rangers. They taught me a lot of what I know now, like their insistance that I learn to dual-wield. But I found my abilities lent themselves better to being a thief, and I ended up doing a lot of adventuring during my time with them. Which, incidently, lead me to this group, and down here."

Syrathic glanced around his surroundings before confiding, "I don't know how you've managed down in this forsaken place. The darkness is oppressive, and I feel like the walls are confining me. Already I miss the outside, and I've only been down here a short time. How do you manage? And what forced you into this predicament?"</font>

<font color=orchid>Anarrima Culurien 60/60

"Now it is my turn to blush and try to hide, good elf. Ahurani Fairhand has been with me and strengthened me during this time, and if I live through it, I will have become a stronger being. Deity will not suffer us to endure more than we are capable of. I was captured and enslaved...let that suffice for the answer now, for the anger and pain still sting to mention it. Now you and your friends have come upon my prayers in faith...to deliver me from this place. In turn, I shall show you how truelly magnificient my Goddess is. She will grant me many strengths during our journey in this Underdark."

Anarrima glances over to Morgeraut and breathes deeply...

"All will be well with us with Ahurani Fairhand watching over us...as long as that one will not curse us with his shadow."</font>


OOC>>>I guess while I am waiting for everybody to do something...I will talk a while. Brendon is stuck until he is answered. Until then, I will be putting some personality into Anarrima.

[ 06-04-2003, 09:59 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

<font color=silver>ooc: Azrael - I answered your PM.

<font color=lime>Morguerat</font> - Whatever the enchantments on the stone are they are beyond your power to probe and your character would be likely to trigger them given his inexperience with magic of this complexity.

<font color=turquoise>DMs Note:</font> This seems like a good place to clarify how the spell Dispel Magic will work in this game.

Rather than defining Dispel Magic as a 3rd level spell, it will be understood as a spell of variable level depending on at level the caster chooses to memorize it [i.e., 3rd to 9th]. This is important as in this game 2 factors are important in determining the success of a casting of Dispel Magic:

1. The difference in level between the one casting Dispel Magic and the caster of the original enchantment. There is a 5% penalty for each level the one trying to Dispel an enchantment is below that of the one who originally cast it. Should the caster of the Dispel magic be higher in level, he receives a 5% bonus for each level higher than the caster of the enchantment.

2. The difference in level between the Dispel itself and that of the enchantment. A Dispel Magic that has been memorized as a lower level spell than the enchantment it is directed against receives a 10% penalty for each level it is below the that of the enchantment. Conversely, a Dispel Magic of higher level than a given enchantment receives a 10% bonus for each level of difference. For example a spellcaster who has memorized Dispel Magic as a 3rd level spell suffers a 60% chance of failure should he attempt to dispel a 9th level enchantment.

The base chance of success for Dispel Magic is 50%. This base chance is modified by the penalties and bonuses outlined above.</font>

[ 06-05-2003, 12:08 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]