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 Recent Posts
Nuveril is a bloody mess; although some of the worst of the wounds must have healed beneath the red stain, her appearance attests that she likely could not have withstood many more seconds at the end of the beast's tentacle. The disturbed state of the crypt seems to give her pause; her eyes fix on the dropped waterskin. How long ago? "" she points out to Linah under her breath, "" She waits nervously for Khalid or Zeladiel to give the okay to advance to the sarcophagus.
"What other options do we have?" Nuveril growls. "If we were going back to the surface through the gnolls' temple, we should have done so when we had the advantage of surprise and the gnolls being scattered. By now, there is a new king on the throne, and I doubt he will be pleased to see us a second time."
He calls over absentmindedly as he works. "Nuveril. If Perimac is your sister, she would also be descended from Andrathi. If she's looking for a tomb down here, it may well be that of Andrathi, the Genie Binder. This is mere speculation, but the edimmu certainly support the idea. The journal implies she and Tamir would have continued on, though they obviously couldn't reach this companion to retrieve him or his equipment. Since there's no sign either of them returned, I expect we'll find at least two more corpses ahead, though in what condition I am unsure. The presence of this Rough Seed certainly bodes ill. And if Nefeshti and Andrathi were connected in life, who knows how death and the Destroyer have corrupted that link." "The thief's writings said he was the one destined to steal whatever it was they were here to steal," Nuveril replies stubbornly. "Perhaps he came down alone, and the others left when he failed to return. Or perhaps there is another way out beyond the bronze door, and they took it. There is no necessity for her to be dead."
Linah's bloodshot eyes widen with recognition as Khalid reads the journal entry and she looks at Nuveril. "This message disturbs me greatly. Who would want to search for the seed? I fear for the company your sister has gotten herself into and the contents of the book that the entry speaks of." Nuveril shoots Linah a look that implies the truth of her words is so obvious they need not even have been spoken. "Reading books? And all this ... magic?" Her voice drips with disgust as she gestures to the thief's journal.
"Nuveril. You were amazing. Those things fell before you like common gnolls." The halfling preens a little at the unexpected praise, but her good mood quickly vanishes when she discovers that the party intends to remain in this pit while Khalid peruses a journal. She sits down grumpily on the stairs as he reads and says something about a Seed, obviously disinterested. Then he begins to read the writing aloud. Despite herself, when the journal mentions halflings, she turns her head and begins to pay attention. When the halflings are named, she jumps to her feet and hurries over to Khalid. "Where does it say Perimac?" she demands, when he is done. "Where?!" Resting her finger on the word, she stares for a moment, then says slowly, "If my mother died in the temple in Kelmarane... then this is my sister. How long ago?" she asks urgently, looking across at the skeleton and the state of the equipment. "How long since there were only a few gnolls in the temple, before the Carrion King assembled his army?"
Nuveril stares incredulously after the wizard. The sudden disgorgement of specifics is a far cry from 'it appears to be a lucky charm,' the only information he had given her the last time he examined the disk. She stares for several seconds at the carved side with its clouds and lightning bolt, as if expecting to see something different. Then she gets quickly to her feet and follows Zeladiel down the stairs to where the others wait by the arcane cage. "What do you mean, elf? How long have you known these things? Who is bound by this, and what do they want from me?"
She scowls. "" she mutters. "" It would seem she finds the lyrical tone and lilt of the elven language intimidating to pronounce.
Despite the unnatural peace of the room, Nuveril, when she wakes, does not seem to have had a restful sleep. Her eyes are bleary and her face troubled. Muttering under her breath, as soon as she is awake, she immediately reaches for the bronze disk hidden beneath her clothing and pulls it out on top of her armor where she can see it. Moving over near where Zeladiel sits to study his spells and examine the treasure claimed from the bodies of the gnolls, she waits impatiently for him to acknowledge her, then asks insistently, ""
Will go ahead and roll for hit points. Bleah. You realize if she survives one more level, she'll finally actually get low-light vision, Dan? Kind of motivates you not to kill her, right? ;) Keen Senses (Ex): At 7th level, the superstitious barbarian gains low-light vision (triple normal vision range in dim light if she already has low-light vision). At 10th level, she gains darkvision 60 feet (or adds 60 feet to the range of any darkvision already possessed). At 13th level, she gains scent. At 16th level, she gains blindsense 30 feet. At 19th level, she gains blindsight 30 feet. This ability replaces damage reduction. Don't know what to pick for a rage power. I like the mechanics of the World Serpent Totem chain, but the fluff's all wrong for Nuveril's tribe. Roused Anger could be handy, but you'd better be darn sure it's the last battle when you use it because exhausted for 10 minutes per round of rage is crippling if you have to do anything, including move anywhere else, after the fight. Ghost Rager is cool, but considering we haven't fought anything incorporeal yet, I'm not sure how useful it would be in this AP.
Your just finished when the sound of even more gnolls from above spur you down the steps, Khalid locating a mechanism below that moves the throne back into place and Grall leading the way with his darkvision.
Nuveril squints around at the garden suspiciously. "How can this grow without sunlight and insects? There must be magic involved," she concludes sourly, her hand going unconsciously to the bronze disk concealed beneath her clothing.
"All gnolls are a threat," Nuveril corrects Sajan, as she obeys Khalid's instructions. "If we left Grall with his 'brethren' to claim the Carrion King's harem, he would also become a threat in time -- or if he would not, it would not be long before the spell-thrower stabbed him in the back as it did the priest and took his place."
Weary but for once fully satisfied, Nuveril settles down to rest on her heels overlooking their fallen enemy. "Dead," she grins with satisfaction, "and thousands of leaderless gnolls still to be slaughtered. It is a good day." She glances up at the dim ceiling. "Or night. We have been underground so long I have lost track of where the sun should be."
The wave of fear washes over Nuveril, leaving her unmoved, a small but firm rock in the flood. She has been abandoned already and she survived; there is nothing she fears more than fleeing the battlefield like a coward and slave. Having finally laid claim to a space from which she has the Carrion King within her reach, she does not intend to relinquish it. Unleashing her full capabilities, enhanced by Zeladiel's spell, she attacks with wild abandon. "I am a Lion of the Savannah and the daughter of halflings," she retorts, "and when you fall, it will be partly by my hand."
Nuveril quivers with the urge to rush into battle, but Grall's words arrest her, as they could not if she were already raging. The gnoll is right. If we rush in, it will be a simple matter for him to stand his ground and hold us at the doorway, where no one else can threaten him, take us one by one. It is why he stopped where he did, inviting us. "After you," she growls, "and not in front of your females, lest their keening grate at my ears as they lament your death." She dances away from the doors, ducking behind Sajan and back toward the others between the pillars dividing the room. "Ready yourselves," she barks. "It is the our quarry, the gnoll king."
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