09-05-2005, 10:26 AM | #251 |
Ironworks Moderator
Join Date: March 1, 2001
Location: Midlands, South Carolina
Age: 48
Posts: 14,759
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For Yevaud (and Vincent), in Marcos' party
The persistence of the elf was beginning to pay off. Pieces of the metal armor was sticken off of the main phenomenon, and the attacks of the horror before him were beginning to show that its enchantment was affected by it. Each loss seemed to contribute to the slowing down of the rest of the attacking suit of armor. Finally, after Yevaud's exact strikes had done enough damage to the mass, there was an explosion from inside the armor and pieces of it went flying about the room. The Helmed Horror had been defeated. The explosion rocked Yevaud backwards, and one piece of armor struck him in the leg as it blew. Vincent was also thrown from his feet and a piece of armor hit him on the side of one arm. This left only the broken-down suit that Marcos had ruined, lying there and trying to get up and fight, but not having the ability to do so. OOC>>>The explosion and flying debris cost Yevaud 3hp and Vincent 2hp. [ 09-05-2005, 10:27 AM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]
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09-12-2005, 08:13 AM | #252 | |
Ironworks Moderator
Join Date: March 1, 2001
Location: Midlands, South Carolina
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Quote:
The drow tried to turn and face his new assailant, but found that he was unable to move! He had been stunned in some manner. What could he do? He could not even see what was attacking him! All too soon, and unprepared for it, the creature was right behind him now, and it knocked him off of his feet. Laying there, the only thing that Kynnen could see was the broken skeleton laughing at his predictament, but at the same time trying to scurry away from whatever was looking for a meal at this time. The horror of being eaten alive coursed through the drow's veins. Sheer horror. How could he escape?
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09-12-2005, 08:15 AM | #253 |
Ironworks Moderator
Join Date: March 1, 2001
Location: Midlands, South Carolina
Age: 48
Posts: 14,759
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For Marcos' Group
The green aura that was over Silt's body grew brighter, flashed and then was extinguished. His corpse was withered away unnaturally. Sir Manessah The ghost of the traitor left the still struggling but useless pile of rubble that had been the party's first encounter, and surveyed Silt with sad comprehension. "I know that aura of green. It was the power of the emerald that took your friend's life. These suits of rubble must have been linked to it somehow, and when it attacked him, he did not have much time left to live. I would never have guessed that the hunger of that evil jewel was still active to have killed again. The clerics must still be collecting lives to fuel it. For what, I do not know."
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09-12-2005, 05:21 PM | #254 |
Jack Burton
Join Date: March 31, 2001
Location: The zephyr lands beneath the brine.
Age: 39
Posts: 5,459
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Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 98/98
The death had been a strange one, and swift. But while he found it tempting to blame himself, the inquisitor also knew that here was a man whom he had offered a horse and sent back out onto the road, whom he had kept to the rear, and who was now struck by a creature he had not been able to stop with the best of his efforts. There was nothing he could to to help him recover from his injuries, nor did he have time to offer final comfort. No, this had not been a mistake of his, though it was like to relate to him as a sign of the gods nevertheless. Taking his eyes from the body, he pounded the last of the animation from the mained horror that the lethal construct would pose no more threat. He turned back to those remaining. "We will bring him to the feasthall where he will find better company in death. Perhaps if we are fortunate, we may ask the good priestess what will become of him once this evil is undone. "Sir Manessah, having now witnessed the current might of this corrupted gem, what have you to tell us of that which lies beyond the fallen horrors?" |
09-13-2005, 05:52 AM | #255 |
Apophis
Join Date: July 29, 2003
Location: The Underdark cavern of Zagreb
Age: 37
Posts: 4,679
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Kynnen 68/85
Kynnen's mind raced back to the pool in an instant. Something was there after all, he thought. Think was about the only thing he could do, paralyzed as he was. He could see how easily he was shoved, his dead arms flailing but still holding on to the falchion. If only he could somehow manage to turn, to see what he was up against. |
09-13-2005, 02:00 PM | #256 |
Ironworks Moderator
Join Date: March 1, 2001
Location: Midlands, South Carolina
Age: 48
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Sir Manessah
"Lord Snowdale, I have never drifted beyond this floor. I know nothing of what lies beyond, except from my memory of this place whilst I lived. Through the door, you will enter a large room that we considered as a relaxation room. There is a small library, comfortable seating, windows that took in the light just the right way, and plants of many exotic origins. Surrounding that vast room are the bedrooms of the castle's occupants. You'll probably find the king still in his sick bed, which became his crypt. Below that floor, the main floor is where the lesser occupants slept, but also its the throne room in the main center. It used to be the ground level floor. There, all the kingdom's business was conducted. I have heard that the priests keep the emerald on that floor. I do not know anything about where the priests are, or how they come and go. They may very well be there now...or maybe they have not been here in months. They keep away from me, except to tease me." [ 09-13-2005, 02:02 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]
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09-15-2005, 12:24 PM | #257 |
Lord Soth
Join Date: February 7, 2002
Location: New York
Posts: 1,980
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Joseph
He turns at the tall man’s words and, for the space of a moment, a profound exhaustion lies visibly written in the lines of his face. “You are observant,” he smiles and as the compliment is spoken the visible signs of fatigue drain out his features, “and the genuinely observant are rarely found.” The boy, of course, neither waits nor thinks but rushes headlong through the opening. Recklessness – sloppy and impulsive. It matters not that his intentions are not evil, reckless stupidity is always a danger. He is too tired to completely mask his disgust and frustration and once more the untroubled lines of his face give way, if only briefly, to a much less composed expressiveness. “For some reason which I do not pretend to understand you seem to have cast your lot with this Larry,” once more his features, and his voice, indicate no hint of strong emotion. His words to the warrior, however, are focused and pointed. “That is all well and good for one whose heart knows well the mysteries of noble motivations, but have a care you are not destroyed by being caught up into his grasping foolishness. The evil of what he names shadow, that I doubt is within him, but the recklessness of that more formidable power you name an enemy is very much alive within him........” He stops as Larry’s voice screams from within the tower. “I appreciate your offer of help,” he says. His voice is calm for he is neither surprised nor troubled by the boy’s distress, “but it would seem another stands in greater need. I will follow in a moment.” But there is only so far I will follow in the footsteps of a fool. |
09-15-2005, 10:57 PM | #258 |
Lord Soth
Join Date: February 7, 2002
Location: New York
Posts: 1,980
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The One Eyed-Wolf Tavern
Silence stands where once boisterous merriment held nightly court and the morning rituals of picking up after the activity of night are not observed. The birds do sing this morning and the sun rises with no song to greet its rays. While all was dark and veiled beneath silent blackness, horror too lay hidden visible only in the imaginings and nightmares of the frightened villagers. But with the coming of the light comes as well the opening of the eyes and the facing of what has happened. Were it simply a matter of the spilling of blood, or even the deaths of several, the eye would be saddened but could endure what it sees. But blood was more than merely spilled and several were not merely killed and the terrors of the grave seize and afflict even those eyes that merely look upon the signs of their passing. Death itself made merry last night, feasting upon hero and commoner alike and the delight, the sheer glee with which lives were consumed and destroyed, the prodigal scattering of blood about by what must be gallons, these are things the living eye cannot endure. And so this day the breaking of dawn is met in turns by gasps and shrieks that soon recede to silence. And when at last voices find again the strength to speak it will be to curse the rising sun which brought such horror to the eyes ...... ..... Dead. Word will spread slowly from home to home, a tale told haltingly and more with sobs and vacant looks than by words. All within the tavern. Dead. Lost. And so much blood ...... ooc: dplax, I trust you can work with this.... |
09-21-2005, 12:05 PM | #259 |
White Dragon
Join Date: December 1, 2001
Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US
Posts: 1,887
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THE SACRED OAK CIRCLE
She drops to one knee, and hangs her head down as she places one hand upon the ground. Violent shivers course through her body as she tries to fight the effects caused by the bite of the banewolf. Numbness begins to run through her body, and her magic fights desperately to stave the deathly effect. She tries to calm her mind, but the images of her precious wolves lost to the shadow haunt her, and she lifts her face to the darkening sky and screams... a scream that travels for miles upon the wind that is whipping her hair and cloak around her like a soft mantle of protection. Slamming both fists into the ground, she gains more control of her mind and tries to repair what she can of the damage done by the bite. The polluting touch of the grave stays with her, though, and her eyes become a haunting mixture of purple and black, flecked with the dusty grey of the grave. She screams again in frustration, and falls back to sit on the ground clutching two handfuls of soft brown earth in each fist. Looking up at the oak holding the last remaining banewolf, she makes a gesture and the tree renders the banewolf into shreds. Anger begins to show in her features as she realizes that the ShadowMage has used her own shadow against her, and that her shadow is now in league with the banewolves. As the sun sets lower, the sillouette of the woman, with her wolves gathered around her in a circle glow a soft purple against the backdrop of the mighty oaks that helped to save her life and the rest of her pack. So consumed by grief and anger, she does not notice the appearance of the last rune upon her body, glowing softly silver from the bridge of her nose. She continues to scream into the wind, as her wolves lift their heads and join in with their own song of grief for her and their packmates taken by the shadow. The mighty oaks sway in time to the haunting music as they vent their anger, grief and desperation to the wind..... [ 09-21-2005, 12:13 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ] |
09-25-2005, 11:44 AM | #260 |
Jack Burton
Join Date: July 19, 2003
Location: an expat living in France
Age: 38
Posts: 5,577
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Ramella Tarina
Ramella gently woke Daniel up, while Jonas woke up his daughter, Julia. They made their way cautiously to the street. But their caution was unnecessary. Already several dozen people had come out from houses further up on the street and were making their way towards the slaughterhouse, which was once the Tavern of the One Eyed Wolf. The place where she had intended to find out the newest about Plaxica's whereabouts greeted them with a hellish scene. There were traces of blood on the walls, on the ground, and even outside the tavern. Some of the local guards were the only ones who went closer than thirty feet to the building. Luckily, Daniel could not fully comprehend what had happened here. He stared ahead of him, at a scene, the full shock of which did not reach him. Jonas was standing a few feet behind, shielding Julia's eyes. The four of them stood there for a long time, just watching as the guards searched in vain for survivors. None were found. She felt Jonas's hand on her shoulder. "Come! I can give you some breakfast." She took Daniel's hands and they started towards Jonas's home. They barely made fifteen steps, when she heard a voice from behind, a voice she had not heard for more than four years. "Ramella? What are you doing here?" |
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