Rohan saw the face of the women and while her face looked as ugly as a lich he was not phased by her appearance and realized it was the mask that was causing the nasty appearance.
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Nyyms mind swirled and suddenly he was surrounded by masks as his mind flashed back to the mask in Aohdens room. The 2 masks alternated to become many incircling him and the voice came back hauntingly. You don't belong here. suddenly back to reality and the deadly woman before him and in no condition for toe to toe. Nyym blinked to clear his vision as vanish entered his mind.
Once invisible Nyym doesn't get fancy as his injuries would not allow for suck. He steps back and to the right taking the cmw potion as he does.
Nyym then rotates back left in case of any blood trail but stays close enough to get back in the fight to help Rohan.
This little [explisive] is one bad little [explisive]. Sure could use Liesil-Marie and that axe of hers right now. [Explisive] I'm really starting to hate [explsive] masks.
Nyym quickly calms himself as anger has no place in this fight and he must ficus focus on the situation at hand.
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Combat Music: Hollywood Undead - Undead (Instrumental)
Liesel-Marie: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 (2nd)
Daktani: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 (3rd)
Nyym: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Rohan: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Bax the Mask: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 (1st)
Bax's yellow eyes widened at the sight of Nyym fading before her. The confusion she felt gave way to disappointment, until she turned and saw Rohan standing at the bottom of the staircase. Disappointment soon became excitement and glee as she bounded forward, dagger in hand. Using her shoulders, she made as if she were going to her right, then went left toward the wall. The simple movement pulled her foe out of position and as she neared the surface, Bax jumped, then pushed off so that rather going up, she went across, in an attempt to bypass the tall human.
As the slinky leather-clad woman made her way past Rohan, her arm snaked out and caught him with a deep gash across his right arm before coming down on the stairs both above and behind him to continue on up.
Liesel-Marie will indeed double-move to try to come to the guys' aid.
Nyym moves quickly up the stairs up the stairs in pursuit catching her as she runs up the stairs..
Shrugging off the dread and fuzziness cause by his close proximity to the mask. Nyym doggedly stayed with her.
Nyym bolts up left up to kick off the wall passing over her upside down to rotate landing on his feet facing her. Nyym quickly seizes the chance and stikes out with his kinetic Katana while she is still low the the platform Nyym now occupies.
Nyym directs his attack to her weapon arm in hopes of gaining some form of advantage in the fight.
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Nyym Colapsed to the floor, he couldn't hold his own against the skilled female warrior wielding simple daggers. It was just to much for him to bare. The night mare of the Raggedy man clashed against his thought as he fell down from the second step on the stairs. Bleeding out as the wound from the dagger left a nasty wound wrenching in his upper arm.
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"Man down!"
Liesel-Marie lets her axe fall to the ground as she slides to a stop next to the big man, already shrugging out of her pack and retrieving a vial before her body stops moving.
Putting it to Rohan's lips, she massages his threat in an effort to get him to drink it down.
She whispers, "I know you are still present in this neglected space, Lady Valiant and True. Please hold him near and let this meager healing keep him here a little longer. And please protect Nyym from that demon in black leather."
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After taking a moment to collect himself, Daktani pushed his way through the cobweb-filled passageway. When he arrived at the end, the half-orc gingerly placed a hand on a section of the wall, then paused, as thoughts of of double-crossing the group entered his head.
He shook them off, knowing that his only chance at getting out of the mess he was currently in lay with his complete cooperation with the members of Team Ruby.
Daktani shoved the wall and opened the secret door. Beyond, he could make out an old cast-iron furnace and a pile of coal that occupied the corners of the cramped chamber. Ash and fallen rubble cluttered the area around the furnace where the chimney above had collapsed. At the base of the furnace lay the form of a half-orc woman, bound with rope and gagged to prevent her from crying out.
He made his way over and placed a hand upon the woman's shoulder, who immediately started struggling. Calm down. I'm not here to kill you. I know I don't have a right to ask it of you, but I - we, need your help. now I'm going to take this off so we can talk. Daktani pointed at the gag in her mouth.
The half-orc woman gave Daktani a vicious glare and tried unsuccessfully to yell at her captor, her words coming out muffled.
I get that you're mad, and I understand, but while we're here, Bax is out there possibly killing our one chance at getting out this mess we're in. And if she's successful, then you know what that means for the both of us.
At the mention of Bax's name, the half-orc woman ceased struggling. She stared into Daktani's eyes and noticed for the first time the fear that was present there.
Now, I'm going to cut you loose. Using one of the short blades he carried, Daktani sawed through the bonds restraining her and stepped back as she stood up and removed the gag from her mouth.
Where's my gear?
No time for that. Daktani tossed her one of his blades. We've got to go save them from Bax now.
The woman caught the weapon and nodded.
Lead the way. Her tone held an edge of determination as she looked at her former captor.
Combat Music: 21 Pilots - Heathens
Liesel-Marie: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 (2nd)
Daktani: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 (3rd)
Nyym: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Rohan: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Bax the Mask: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 (1st)
Freed Half-Orc Ranger: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 (4th)
Bax marveled at the sudden reappearance of the half-drow and the kinetic katana that he wielded. That's a neat trick, the woman hissed even as she glanced at the wound dealt to her arm by her opponent moments ago.
Without warning, Bax hopped on to the railing of the staircase, dropped into a crouch and launched herself up then out, body fully extended with her legs together, hips unbent, knees and arms held against her sides. She then performed a 180-degree twist that turned her toward the railing that was now opposite and across from her and reached out with her wounded arm to grab it and, with visible effort, pull herself up and over the side before hustling through the open doorway.
Nyym rotates with her move and set to persuading her yet again. Apon clearing the the door. Opting for a different method. Apon getting clear line of site again Nyym manifests a thrown version of his energy.
Leaviving so soon? We were just getting to know one another.
Spoken through a sneer as he continued his pursuit.
Problem not smart to antagonize her, but anything to slow her down at this point.
As the thought entered his mind he pushed it away. But I'm doing so, Nyym came to the sudden realization that he was actually enjoying this.
OK lady what's ur next move?
Liesel-Marie glad to see the flow of blood stemmed, says to Rohan as she grabs her axe and stands. "If you follow, stay out of her reach. Your range is a strength we need against her. Bring my pack. Please." Looking up at the new voice, she says, "Well-met. Let's find her together." With that, the girl runs up the stairs to where she last heard Nyym's voice.
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Name's Vegazi, called out the newly arrived half-orc woman before speaking to Daktani in an aside. You didn't say she was so intense. I like it!
Of course you would, muttered Daktani under his breath.
Oh, by the way, exclaimed Vegazi, as she took the pommel of the weapon given her by Daktani and slammed it into the unsuspecting man's jaw.
Completely blindsided by her attack, Daktani's world spun into darkness as fell to the floor, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers.
Vegazi kicked up the blade, caught it in her free hand and made her way toward the staircase.
Consider us even, Dak.
There was no sense of regret in her voice. Only determination as she focused on the task now before her.
She was going to kill Bax.
Rohan regain consciousness and listened to Liesel who was over her for but a brief moment as she darted off quickly up the steps. Rohan knew nothing of Dak or the Half orc women as of yet so without hesitation Rohan grabbed Liesel bag as he stood, running up the steps as quick as possible to catch up with the two in pursuit. Of course he understood that this lady was a force that was surely under anticipated. Though that didn't matter at this time, the point was she was in quick haste to somewhere, likely to inform who ever it was in the city about our intentions or that there hideout was blown.
Of Course Liesel, Though my intentions was to impede her path regardless of the outcome. I wasn't expecting the assailant to be so skilled with daggers of all things.
Granted he wasn't speaking out loud but that was the thoughts running through his mind as he ran up the steps to aid his fellow group members. His overprotective nature was kicking in and trying to force him to move no matter how bad things were going to be.
Rohan was very appreciative of Liesel looking out for him, though he wished that was not the case, however, in combat there no telling what is going to happen.
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All around was a wall of rancid citrine mist, tumbling through an alley's canyon of crumbling, gray brick walls like some jaundiced flash flood. Ahead, the unfamiliar alley split, curving to the left and right. Behind, from the silent swell of fog, emanates the soft murmur of indistinct voices and the sound of footsteps – slow, yet somehow keeping pace with the careening, hungry wave.
Surrounded by the mist, you can make out five people. One of them, a gray-skinned half-elf, performs a series of intricate hand movements and the alley suddenly became awash in a brilliant light as he gathers electricity to surround his hand; the high concentration of crackling energy produces a sound reminiscent of many birds chirping.
He then cautiously approaches the mist and, with a movement born both of precision and practice, thrust his lightning-enveloped hand within. The vapor swirls around his wrist, unaffected by the action. However, before he can pull back his arm, the half-elf feels something grab hold of him. To the horror of everyone else present, he is jerked violently into the mist, as though he were a rag-doll. There is an eerie moment of silence, then the voices grow louder, only this time they are accompanied by the grisly sounds of rent flesh. Blood sprays from the confines of the mist, splattering against the walls of the alley.
Once the realization dawns that the half-drow was well and truly gone, the shock and dismay becomes anger. One of the others, a dark haired human, brought up his hands, clad in caestūs, and assumes a defensive stance before yelling, Come out and face us, villain!
As if to mock him, the voices subsided back to their previously low volume.
The remaining four form a defensive circle, standing back to back with one another. One, a human female, gestures toward the wall of the alley, "Did you see that? And hear that? A new voice." Her knuckles whiten on the haft of her axe. She growls, "I'd rather be facing a bear in the snow. What is this?"
"See what, what is it? The words come from another human, one that towered over the others, even the female elf in the group.
"On the wall, a splash of blood when Nyym was pulled in. The word 'me' appeared and I think I heard Nyym's voice join the chorus."
The elven woman calls out, Do not touch it at all! Do not go near it! We have no idea what is in it, beast, poison, or evil magic! Then in a calmer tone, she continues, We need to fall back. It's coming at us. Defensive stance or none, we need to keep back from it. Her hand sat on the hilt of the temple sword on her left hip, the hopeknife sitting on her right.
Then to the fog, anger at Nyym's loss boiling up, she screams, You cowardly piece of gutter trash! Deplorable show of chickenry if I were to ever see one! Oh hold on a moment, I just witnessed it! Slimy, putrid, noxious, not to forget completely tone deaf! I mean what form of chanting is that? I feel as though I'm at Sunday mass! You couldn't scare me even if you tried to... I believe that's what you're trying to achieve is it not? This is the most obnoxious attack I've ever seen in my life! I've seen worse fogs than this down at a city port dock!
The elf keeps herself back and hopes that the others follow her instructions.
The first man looks down at his feet, the roiling citrine mist just shy of touching him. Kyt is correct. We need to fall back. Maybe we can find a better defensive position than this. As it stands now, this alley makes for the perfect bottle-neck. He takes a half-step back from the fog, creating a little more separation between himself and it. Lead us out, Kyt. Call out where you're going and I'll follow once every one else has gone after you.
The Chelish man (somehow you know he's Chelish) takes yet another step back, but as he does, there is a shimmer in the space where he previously stood. Or was standing still. For now there are two of him, the first that retreated slowly, the other that remained in a defensive stance.
Go! Now!
As if on cue, the second Chelish man charges headlong into the mist. Just like before with Nyym, there is an eerie quiet, and, as before, the voices grow louder, followed by the ripping of flesh. Again, blood sprays from the confines of the mist, and again it splatters against the walls of the alley. He cringes at the sight of himself being killed, but he keeps backing up slowly toward the intersection, staying out of the yellow vapor's reach.
Sadly the odds are fifty-fifty either right or left. Much better than one hundred percent death should we stay. Aodhán, you and Liesel-Marie take point and go to the right. While Rohan, you and I will keep our eyes on our flank while we follow behind them. I trust not our backs turned towards this fog. If all are agreed let us move quickly! The elf looks back towards the fog, her grief and anger over Nyym having stopped her from really looking before. Keeping her eyes on it as they moved, the group heads down the right path.
As they went on down the right, you begin to notice that the alley walls sag, the battered brick slumping over the path, nearly blotting out the bruised twilight sky. Again the grimy cobblestone path splits. This time one route curves uphill, while the other recklessly descends. All the while, the sickly yellow fog and the relentless sounds of pursuit grow closer. The voices within the yellow mist call out once more:
And then – if we all won't cry, fer shore –
The Raggedy Man he'll come and "splore
The Castle-halls," and steal the "gold"—
And steal us, too, and grab and hold
And pack us off to his old "Cave"!—And
Haymow's the "cave" of The Raggedy Man!—
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!
Here comes the raggedy man! Raggedy man! Raggedy man! Hey, raggedy man!
Raggedy! Raggedy!
The mist parts, now mere steps behind. A mask of gray rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that was almost humanlike — but too lean, and far too flexible. Gauzy gray ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for less doubtful flesh to claim.
You hear a voice shout, Watch out! And the woman called Liesel-Marie steps into view to attack the now exposed figure with her bearded axe.
Though gray gauze covered whatever it had for eyes, this seemed to do little to hinder the Raggedy Man. The creature's fanged maw twists into a caricature of grin as it brings up a clawed hand and effortlessly, as though the act itself were merely an afterthought, catches the blade of the woman's axe, stealing the weapon's momentum and preventing any real damage from being inflicted upon it.
Then, with its free hand, the alien creature produces an oversized razor and slashes out at the Erutaki warrior, the blade slicing with horrific ease through flesh and cloth as blood trails in its wake.
Fully intent on disemboweling the woman, the strange creature was in the process of bringing the razor back for another slash when it is hit by an arrow of stone, fired from the earthen bow of the tall human. But though the shot prevented the Raggedy Man from following through on its intended action, it otherwise seems unaffected by the hit.
Then another appears before the creature. It is the one called Aodhán, who, as he dashes forward, launches a straight punch with a fist limned in flames. The attack comes across his body and lands squarely on the left side of the Raggedy Man's face, bits of fire glittering from the force of impact. However, much to the attacker's dismay, the creature seems indifferent to his strike as well.
Not wishing to stay around to witness this battle, you continue on, leaving the others behind and take the uphill path....
...and feel yourself being shaken frantically by a wide man with a salt-and-pepper beard clad in thick furs and wearing dark-lens spectacles. All around the two of you is that rancid yellow cloud. Like before there are voices within, and with the voices, eerie shapes of things that, for your peace of mind, are best left unseen. The wind picks up as it howls against a sky that seems to be set on fire around a great gaping hole above....
...a glistening pool... that lay between three dunes. A small wooden hut stands near the water, and an immense tree provides shade for both the pool and the hut, with large, lumpy fruits that hang near the ground. A hum reverberates around the oasis.
Hey, came the drink-besotted gravelly voice of Rabus, the bald proprietor of the Killin' Ground, snapping you out of the bizarre dream – or nightmare, you're not exactly sure which – that you we're having. I'm not payin' you to slack off around here, ya know. Yer break's been done. Get back to work. Bad enough that me best bouncer is out fer who knows how long, but now the word is goin' round that Rodrick Grath has died.
He moved on from your table, still grumbling angrily to himself as he went. A halfling serving girl, who had been standing nearby, shook her head as she watched the man trundle off.
The whole town is taking Rodrick's death pretty hard. There was even a procession earlier that took his body to Sanctuary from the Ramblehouse where he was found dead.
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“As if what you give me can be called pay. “ the woman muttered.
She stood up slowly and rubbing the back of her neck with a sigh, working out the odd kink in her neck that had come from sleeping in such an odd position. That nightmare was a very odd one, and it was not the first time she had experienced it. Still the hills and oasis were new, it was something to ponder later.
Her frown deepened as she looked out over what the locals called a 'bar', she had known pigsty’s that were better kept and cleaner. She offered a quick glance behind the chair she had been sitting in a wide area of what seemed to be highly polished and well cleaned wood surrounded the chair she had been in. The chair itself didn't look as if it matched anything else in the bar, it almost looked new, though upon closer inspection the well worn legs and groves in the seats surface were apparent.
Leaning against the back of the chair was a long necked stringed instrument, the thin neck was free of any frets and seemed to be made of a stiff willow. While one couldn't see it without looking carefully the neck seemed to be able to be dissembled in four or five pieces, the wood fitting together like a puzzle almost. Three pegs jut from the top of the neck, a pale white coloration, likely ivory, a trio of fine silk strings run down the length of the instrument. The main body of it seemed more like a drum or tambourine, with a covering of tautly stretched cat skin framed by a thicker cherry wood.
As the woman cradles the Shamisen to her her pale hand slips into the voluminous tan and teal trimmed kimono she wore drawing out a item made of tortoise shell that looks like a short spatula or a masons putty knife. She draws it lightly across the strings, producing a sound barely audible to those in the bar, but to her it told her everything she needed on the state of her instrument.
Moving through the crowd like a ghost, the woman's long onyx hair flowed out behind her, her presence making more than a few of the bar patrons stare after her. Despite how covered she was more than a few males and a couple of females were staring slack jawed as she passed, some how close enough to touch, but not close enough for any of the more bold among them to lay a hand on her.
Approaching the stage she spared a glance back to her chair, noting how the clean spot around it was already on it's way to becoming soiled as the chair and table were claimed by a new group of patrons.
Sighing a last time as she looked at the 'new' chair she had been granted on the stage. The old thing had likely been pulled out of the bars one outhouse where it had been used to prop the door closed. A quick flick of her wrist brought the Bachi across the strings, the chair seemed to melt slightly, the old grime and dirt flaking and falling from it before being swept away to a small pile at the back of the stage. She shifted taking a seat on the newly cleaned chair.
The amber eyed Tian-min regarded the crowd a moment longer before she lifted her hand before dropping the bachi down, beginning to play.
The Erutaki warrior knows she no longer has the energy today to go for overwhelming force, so she tries to maintain control, remain cold and calculating despite the fire that burns within.
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Silvermane sat in a state of toinéal, or trance, on an earthen floor beside a pool of water in a chamber where the ceiling and even the walls were a mass of intertwined vegetation. All around him were a series of detailed woodcarvings, twenty-one in total, that displayed exquisite craftsmanship and were worth hundreds of gold shields individually merely for various types of wood used in their construction. But these panels held a different value to the druid. For woodcarvings told a tale of sacrifice.
The final sacrifice made by his order, the Council of Thorns.
The initial scenes portrayed a horde of orcs rampaging across a marsh until they were met by a group of druids. The next several carvings showed the orcs battling the vastly outnumbered druids, routing them back to a circle of standing stones. The next panel depicted the druids prostrating themselves before a single large stone menhir, followed by a series of carvings showing the druids, many in the form of animals and accompanied by all manner of beasts and elemental creatures, issue forth from a giant carved blossom and marching with renewed faith and vigor into the center of the orc horde. The last few images illustrated a solemn scene of sacrifice, wherein the druids slayed themselves. As their bodies fell to the ground, strange glowing globes of light rose from the mud of the swamp. The final panel showed the spheres of light punching through the invading orcs in murderous retribution, driving them from the marsh in terror.
The silver-haired elf opened his eyes and spoke a word in the secret language of the draoithe, a command, and watched as the depths of the pool swirled in a gray mist. When it cleared, an image came into focus...
Liesel-Marie moved as fast as she could up the stairs, the hardness of her features masking the genuine concern that she felt. The Erutaki had sensed that the members of her ilagiit, or family in the tongue of her people, were in danger. Finding Rohan hurt and on the verge of death at the base of the staircase only strengthened those feelings.
She hurried on, passing Nyym on the way, and reached the annex. Through the open doorway, the warrior could just make out the retreating back of the one Daktani had called Bax the Mask.
This one had much to answer for and Liesel-Marie could not let her escape so easily. Fueled by this need, she pushed herself with what strength that she could muster and bore down on her foe.
The sound of the Erutaki's footsteps alerted Bax to her approach and she had already begun to move before Liesel-Marie began to swing her axe.
Bax pivoted on her left foot as she brought her dagger up and under the descending axe, thinking to diffuse the force of the swing enough to not just prevent the weapon from making contact, but possibly create an opening in process that would allow her to slide the blade along the haft and slice the warrior's hand.
Had the attacker been anyone else, the gambit would have worked as Bax intended. But Bax wasn't facing anyone else. Unfortunately for her, she had underestimated the strength of Liesel-Marie. Bax realized that upon making contact with the bearded axe, and though she was by no means a weakling, the warrior proved to be just as strong, if not slightly stronger.
Bax managed to avoid the full power of the swing by releasing the dagger from her right hand and allowing it to drop to her awaiting left, even as she leaned back to avoid the sharp edge of the axe's head.
But in focusing her attention mostly on Liesel-Marie, Bax had largely forgotten about another and paid for that mistake as she felt a familiar shock from Nyym's electric kunai brushing past her left leg. Though the damage done had been minimal, as with the half-drow's previous attack, the extremity went numb from the slight contact.
Bax growled. Feeling was already returning to her right arm, but the numbness in her leg would definitely hamper her chance to escape. The hard-faced axe-wielding warrior only made things more difficult, and if that wasn't bad enough, she could hear the all-too familiar angry screams of Vegazi coming from the stairwell.
She had few options left to her. If she tried to continue her escape, the warrior would only try to cleave her in two with that big axe she carried. She could attempt to take on a more defensive posture, just until the feeling returned to her leg. But Bax had no idea how long she could do so, especially considering that the number of foes she faced would only increase while so engaged.
No, the only option that made any sense was to get away from the Plague House and these people trying to kill her. Bax backed away, then turned to run, moving as fast her numbed leg would allow.
Again Nyym dashes forward in the hopes of catching Bax. Realizing that she was only hampered partially. Nyym again goes for a ranges attack.
Ur not getting away that easy.
The haste of the shot going wide, but served as a reminder that pursuit was close at hand. Nyym cursed under his breath at the miss but remained stead fast in his pursuit, glad to have the support of Liesil-Marie.
Liesel-Marie, grateful to find Nyym not only well from facing the demoness alone, but actually harrying her successfully, is satisfied to let her run, but still wants to let her something to remember her by.
Dropping the axe to her left hand as she continues to pursue the woman, she draws a javelin from the little-used quiver across her back and puts her momentum into the missile, hoping to drive it completely through the retreating leather-clad back. Or send a definite message about their next meeting.
With an animalistic roar, she releases ....
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Again Nyym dashes forward in the hopes of catching Bax. Realizing that she was only hampered partially. Nyym again goes for a ranges attack.
Ur not getting away that easy.
[dice=ku-nai] 1d20+4+2-1
[dice=trip7] 3d10
[dice=damage] 1d4+1
The haste of the shot going wide, but served as a reminder that pursuit was close at hand. Nyym cursed under his breath at the miss but remained stead fast in his pursuit, glad to have the support of Liesil-Marie.
Rohan made it to the hall, followed by Vegazi. Her reaction at seeing that Bax had escaped was a string of expletives that made even Liesel-Marie cringe. When she was done, the half-orc sighed, then turned to face the members of Team Ruby.
Thank you. I know you had something to do with Daktani setting me free. I'm in your debt. Should you have need of me, know that I will answer the call.
Mood Music: Heeding The Call - Bear McCreary (Battlestar Galactica)
Silvermane had seen enough to recognize the depicted location of the ones he'd been looking for, and from what he could tell, they needed assistance.
The elf stood from where he'd been seated and produced from the folds of his robe an ancient, leaf embossed brass lantern, checking it to ensure that bluish-white light within was going strong. Satisfied, he returned the lantern back within his garment and uttered another draoithe command, one that caused a series of rainbow-hued energy to appear on the floor like the veins and arteries of a creature. He walked over to a particularly vibrant stream and stepped within.
Near the Freestone, a swirling portal of green energy appeared and from its depths emerged a large black bird, followed by the ancient-looking elf, who motioned for Liesel-Marie and others to gather around him. The raven, after winging its way around the ruined hall, returned to settle on Silvermane's shoulder. To the surprise of everyone present, the raven opened its beak and spoke:
[color=blue] Danger fast approaches Trunau and your strength will be needed. Take this. [/color] The druid produced a lit lantern and handed it to Nyym. [color=blue] With it, you will be able to walk the path beyond this gate. There is an area specially prepared to enable you to regain your strength before the coming trial. Do not venture any further than the place prepared for you. The area beyond has dangers of its own and your safety will not be guaranteed should any of you venture out into it. Also take care that you all return before the lantern loses its glow. Should you fail to do so, then you risk becoming lost. Time flows differently in the place where you are headed and this is what you will be taking advantage of so that you can marshal your collective strength. Now, go - quickly, so that Trunau may benefit from your return. [/color]
Nyym turns from seeing his opponent escape dispute his best effort to prevent it. After uttering a few explisivesexplisive of his own, Nyym turns back to the Vegazi.
You are welcome. Speaking of Daktani, where is he?
Nyym asked as he looked around at the battered group.
What in the 9 hells?
So focused on the group before him, Nyym jumped back in surprise as the new arrival climbed from the pool as if it were nothing. Although he thought about it, Nyym did not dare go for his weapon knowing that this bunch, or Tribe as Liesil called them was nowhere near the strength needed for another fight so soon. Nyym listened intently and in surprise as the bird spoke. Desiding to trust the new arrival for it spoke was the truth of the danger that was coming, only adding reinforcement to what Daktani had already spoke of. With the offer of aid and healing. A sudden worry crossed Nyyms mind as he excepted the lantern.
Kyt and Brinia are still in danger and will need aid. Who will go to their aid if we take this offer. We need the rest, but we can not allow them to fall if we can aid them.
Nyym looks between each member of the group, then back to the new arrival in hopes of an answer. As he did, again the internal conflict waged yet again.
Heal urself. She is not important. Yes she is, although I do not begin to understand why. But she is a friend and in need. For now that is enough.
Nyym continues to wrestle with his own demons as he waited for an answer.
Rohan bows his head to the ancient looking elf. Holding back the shock of the portal appearing, though the depths of his face revealed a surprised look.
"I thank you for your help. Perhaps you may enlighten us to these coming trials you speak of?"
Rohan waited for the mans response, but not wanting to come off sounding rude, so his tone was a gentle as a giant of a man could speak, his voice nearly out of breath and very deep, as though you can hear a thundering roar within. Standing there surely towering over the Ancient elf with his massive 7'11 tall frame, though very slender for a man of his size. His grace more evident then his strength.
Adorn to the back of Rohan was a bow, though by now it looks as new as the day he bought it. In addition to that he had failed to carry arrows which should be something an archer would carry. His hopeknife strapped to the side of his boot on his right leg. A simple brown cloak draped down over his back under the bow. Wearing the basic of gear, studded leather, though it had a shine about it, endorsing the fact that it was of higher quality then typical studded leather. His feet seem to sink into the ground below him and you can see that his boots sole was nearly none existence.
Also in the approach Rohan hands Liesel her bag back and a nod of appreciating the assistance.
"In time I will be stronger"
Rohan mumbled softly.
Again Rohan bows to the Ancient elf and accepts his gift. Though he waits till others enter before he follows through.
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Mood Music: Undead (Instrumental) - Hollywood Undead
Bax continued her flight from the Plague House, pausing only long enough to remove the javelin that had embedded in her thigh. When she had been sent by her sister along with Grache and Ghaer, there had been an understanding that the plan could unfold in a variety of different ways than how it was supposed to go. One of the possibilities had been discovery by adventurers meddling into things that did not concern them.
But even in that scenario, she did not imagine it going on to end with her being wounded and on the run. The adventurers proved more formidable than Bax had thought they would be. Especially the relentless half-drow. Beneath her mask, Bax smiled. If they were truly aligned with Trunau, then she would meet them again.
It was a confrontation she was looking forward to, especially if it meant another encounter with Nyym.
Mood Music: Heeding The Call - Bear McCreary
[color=blue] When your strength has been replenished and you wish to leave, merely shine the light of the lantern upon the barrier and a doorway will open. It will take you to the Standing Stone at the Hopespring. Since time in the place you'll be resting in moves not as a constant fast river relative to this world, but more like an unpredictable storm, with winds, strong wind gusts, luffs and eddies, you may return to find that mere minutes or a couple of hours will have passed while you were recuperating.[/color]
When Nyym spoke of Kytynna, the druid's brow knit itself into a tight furrow. It was then that Vegazi spoke up, I can find her. These folks just saved my life, so anything I can do to help is fine by me.
Silvermane nodded, relief and appreciation vying for dominance on his face. [color=blue]You have both my thanks and gratitude, Vegazi the Devil Sword. [/color] When the half-orc's eyes widened at being recognized, the old elf allowed himself to smile. [color=blue]Even in Trunau, tales have told of your exploits. You skill will serve us well during coming trial.[/color] Silvermane then turned to regard Nyym. [color=blue]Your comrade will be well looked after.[/color]
Upon entering the mist filled portal, the group find themselves standing around a campfire that was enclosed by an opaque hemispherical barrier of light and flame. On the marshy ground about them were blankets, bedrolls, food, and canteens fashioned from gourds, all to aid them in their recovery. Every so often, the silhouettes of creatures could be seen passing near the barrier, a reminder of the warning that the elven druid had given them earlier about the dangers of leaving the area.
Once the members of Team Ruby had gone through the portal, Silvermane looked to Vegazi. [color=blue] I have a side task for you, Devil Sword. There is another who has yet to realize her importance in what is to come. You'll find her at the tavern in town known as the Killin' Ground. Inform her that she is to help you with your mission.[/color]
Vegazi shrugged. Will I know her when I see her?
The druid nodded.
Shirubātairu Mesa had hidden long enough from what was unfolding. The time had come for her to take her rightful place alongside her companions.
Once through the portal, Nyym resigns himself to he trying some food. Taking a seat close to the fire, Nyym carefully strips off his fear so that he may comfortably lay back once he had his full of good food and drink. Nyym remains quiet though, lost in his thoughts of what had transpired and what was yet to come.
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Mesa smiled slightly, the sound of a pin drop could be heard as she finished her last song of her set. The the strings on Shiroi karasu thrummed nearly silently against her fingertips. It was times like this when she truly felt alive, when all the worries and stress melted away. Where her past didn't worry her, nor the loss of what she should know. There was only the presence of the kotodama mixed in with the silence and the rhythmic breathing of the awed crowd...
“TAKE OFF YER TOP!!”
… and the drunken cry of the native red faced idiot was all it took to ruin it. Mesa exhaled softly one eye opening to glare at the drunken lout as the others at his table cheered him on.
“You do realize that I am a male yes?” Mesa stated flatly an almost feral grin crossing her features.
“No way with tits like those?” Of course he would not be daunted.
The kimono clad woman slowly rose from her chair on stage setting her Shamisen in the chair before quickly pulling open the front of her kimono exposing herself to the waist, showing... no breasts, just a pale flat masculine chest with a little bit of black chest hair in the middle. The crowd gasped as Mesa grinned a bit too feral like, time to play this up more.
“Would you like to see my dick as well? Or are you worried that it will be bigger than yours, not that that would take much I'm sure.” Mesa stated flatly, the crowd suddenly erupting into riotous laughter at the expense of the cat caller who was doing his best to attempt to laugh along with every one else at his embarrassment.
The sound of coins striking the stage brought a wider smirk to her face, her teeth seeming a little too sharp for a a moment. She flicked a finger across the string of Shiroi karasu as she picked him up, the gathered coins rolling into a small pile around her as they landed on stage. She paused a moment to gather them up eyeballing the amount before tucking them away.
“Thank you thank you , you've been a lovely audience except when you weren’t for any one looking to tip more I also accept gems and poultry, be sure to tip your waitress.”
With that Mesa Silvertail slipped off the stage and out the door as quickly as she could. Passing by the door one of the men nearby could have sworn he saw the 'male's chest puff back out into a pair of breasts as she walked out the door.
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Rohan walked into the portal, apparently people tended to ignore him and not answer his question.
"This seems to be a constant thing were people disregard my questions. Well go figure."
Rohan just shrugs to himself as he didn't want to seem angry at anyone, but the ancient elf didn't even seem to pay attention to him.
Once inside he found a nice spot to lay down next to the fire, it felt rather strange here, it was almost like the connection to earth had fleeted from his grasp. Though he could still feel the essence to his internal abilities, it seemed to be as though he was on another plane of existence.
Rohan stretched out across the ground as though it was real, but something felt off and it just didn't seem right, but he pulled out the tiny little silver ball that he created once before, laid it on the ground next to him and proceeded to move it around in circles watching it move.
"I guess somewhere in this little silver ball was some form of earth or something, I don't know but it is the only thing metal that I can even manipulate. Perhaps some types of metals are considered earth, after all they are earth bound materials right?"
Rohan pondered for a bit before grabbing the small silver ball no bigger then a silver coin and putting inside his pouch. Rolled on to his back and stared up into the surreal sky.
"Why do people not see me? Why am I weaker then all the others yet a giant in comparison? Those last two fights I was more of disability then a benefit. I must refocus my abilities, become more in tune with my skill whatever it must be."
Rohan couldn't help the thoughts running through his head or the fact that he was ignored by most people but it quickly faded as he started to find his mind drifting into the darkness.
The dreams began to start as though he was feeling the sense of being in the presence of the Raggedy man all over again, he remembered running down through the city walls as they sunk down around him, a mist that was approaching as fast as the group could move, a man that seemed to create fear, and strikes out against me. Licking my face moments before my destruction.
The nightmare returned though it felt as though he was viewing from the outside in this time, it wasn't as real as the first time, but nonetheless the fear it brought pushed on him and he tossed and turned throughout the night and sometimes you can hear faint groans as the dream continued to repeat over and over again till he woke the next morning, or after 8 hours in this time altering zone.
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Liesel-Marie wasn't happy to let the woman go, but they had depleted so much, chasing her off would have to do this time. She turns and nods at the former prisoner. "Well met. Did you hurt Dak badly?"
At the appearance of the ancient one, she bows, "Silvermane. You seem to come to our aid often. Thank you." She turns to the Devil Sword, "You will have to tell me how you got that name someday. For now, take Dak with you if he still breathes. He owes a debt he knows I will collect if he doesn't pay up. I nominate you to make sure he does his part." She winks and extends a hand for a warrior's clasp.
Then, she turns to join the others in this other place of Silvermane's. Relaxing in a place she believes to be safe because he said so, she is asleep almost immediately, her mind finally allowing her body to recognize the beating she had taken. I died today. Twice, maybe. Yet here I am, resting comf....
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@ Mesa -
The mood of the people on the street cast a somber pall on the day-to-day activities taking place around Mesa as she exited the tavern. Rodrick Grath was the topic of pretty much all of the conversation she could hear going on around her, one person in particular being the off-duty Sergeant Omast Frum, recently recovered from his earlier ordeal on the wall.
He stumbled by the Killin' Ground (and nearly into the kimono-clad woman), obviously intoxicated. Poor young Rodrick, he bemoaned before taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. He wash truly a magnificent bashtard. I tried to erayshe them white swords that what appeared all over town like ya asked me to. Been at it for daish. Damned things just won't come off!. He paused. How am I supposed to erashe the damned things when they won't come off? He thought about it for all of two seconds (though in his inebriated state, the time must have seemed much longer) and proclaimed with utmost certainty, It's a shine from beyond the grave! This town is cursh! Mark me worsh! This town is cursh! He then made moaning sounds in an attempt to be spooky but in reality came off as just silly sounding.
He then sighed heavily, took another hit from the bottle and started up all over again as he continued on down the street. Poor young Rodrick...
“White swords?” Mesa pondered to herself, thinking of the information she had collected around tow. Something about that statement seemed off.
She rolled her amber eyes as the drunk made a moaning sound, most of his slurred conversation barely understandable. The lout nearly ran into her once already, quite the rude one, drunk or not that was uncalled for.
Mesa took note of his open bottle with a small smirk. Her fingers tapped a small tempo on the wood of Shiroi Karasu, a cantrip cast, changing the air blowing over the mouth of the glass jug. The effect producing a faint moaning sound as the wind ran over the mouth of it. It produced a whooo sound with much more clarity and volume than the drunk had preformed.
She smirked a little more ,continuing on her way, not bothering to wait around to see the drunkards reaction to his 'cursed moaning bottle'.
The coin she had gained at the bar, along with the little bit she had left from her previous performances should allow her to buy a few supplies she needed. The question was could she find an alchemical shop in the town or would she need to go to the market at the stones?
After a brief question and answer session in her mind she set out to the barter stones, perhaps she could find some one there serving roast drumsticks.
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Before long, Mesa found herself passing through the gate and outside the town to pick up the supplies she needed.
The smell of food, fresh from the local farms around Trunau, as well as other wares, sold near the broad flat slabs of rock of the open-air market, surrounded the young woman as she went from stall to stall. There was generally a festive feel about the Barterstones, but not today. The noise that typically filled the place seemed muted. Occasionally, she passed an empty stage where there would normally be a fellow musician plying their craft, but with the revelation of Rodrick Grath's death, none were willing to perform.
Only one other person seemed to be unaffected by the mood. A half-orc woman wearing a sleeveless shirt and leggings wrapped in bands of hide stood in front of a nearby stall, arguing loudly with a vendor. Crossed behind her back were a pair of finely made short blades.
You want me to pay you for giving me directions, the woman barked, her anger obvious.
You're taking away my time, the man calmly explained. Time that could be used to make a sale. So why wouldn't I expect compensation for an opportunity lost?
And what if I were to pay you with steel? Her arms were folded across her chest, but each hand rested within easy reach of a blade. It wasn't clear if she intended to actually carry out her implied threat, but the woman let the idea hang for the vendor to consider.
The man, to his credit, seemed unmoved. Instead, he merely shrugged. Then you'll be taken by the militia and put in jail without learning what you wanted to know.
The half-orc growled in frustration at being stymied by this person and walked away from the booth.
Mesa wandered among the crowd, more interested in the smells of the food than the mood of the people. Still she had to pause before the stage staring at it with a frown. The atmosphere of the place had it's own rhythm and it's own music, though that was heavily muted.
It was a shame to be honest, one that she thought to correct. She continued on her way, a plan forming in her head as she listened to what was being said by the crowd around her. Listening in on all of the fallen man's accomplishments, all his triumphs, and those he loved. In her mind she was forming something.
Music was not just something to only come about during good times. It should be there to help ease those through the bad times as well.
Still while listening in she ignored the half orc's shouting match, the event being none of her business. Still there had to be some one selling alchemical regents around here some where.
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Finding what she wanted was taking longer than Mesa would have liked, but eventually she came across the proper stall.
Welcome to the periphery site of Meeson's Goods & Salvage. I am Gorkis Meeson. Anything that I don't have here can be found in town at my wife's shop, Meeson's Goods & Salvage. Now what can I help you with, my good lady.
As he spoke, an older looking male half-orc, middle-aged, came and stood next to Mesa, looking somewhat interested in the wares displayed.
Desna's smile, Daktani! What happened to you? Did you get in some sort of fight? Take this. Gorkis reached under the counter and produced a jar of salve, which he then handed to the man. Don't worry about paying me now. I'll just put it on your tab.
The half-orc sighed as he took the small ceramic jar. That'll be good, Gorkis. Thanks. He then turned to regard the young woman standing next to him.
I know you. Don't you perform at the Killin' Ground?
She looked up at the half orc then back to the wares. She frowned not seeing anything she needed immediately.
“I might have to visit the shop then.” Mesa sighed. “ I need Diatomaceous earth soaked in trinitrotoluene. Bamboo paper, cork inserts and a spool of five second wick.” Mesa listed to the shop keeper before turning to the half orc and his question.
“I have been known to perform there, yes. The pay tends to be better than busking, but only just.” Mesa sighed.
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At first, Gorkis looked somewhat surprised by Mesa's request. The diatomaceous earth soaked in trinitrotoluene is something kept at the shop. We don't typically get requests for that. Then he eyed the young lady somewhat suspiciously. I hope you're not planning on engaging in some sort of elicit activity with these materials. Depending on the amount you're looking to acquire, some very bad things could be done with them. The first item in particular is a controlled substance.
Daktani smiled. I've lived in Trunau for some time now, but have never personally gone there. I only know about you because someone that I know who frequents the place described you to me a few times. He then looked over Mesa approvingly. And here I thought Rishka was exaggerating about how pretty you were.
The half-orc turned his head and called out, Hey Vegazi! I found someone who can take us to where we need to go!
A few moments later, the woman that been arguing earlier with a vendor came over. It's about time you made yourself useful.
Daktani sighed. Well at least I haven't gone and gotten the attention of the town's militia. He nodded toward the two soldiers that had been following Vegazi around as she went about making more inquiries. Just remember that the only reason why I'm helping you is because...
...Liesel-Marie will take your head if you don't, finished Vegazi, her lips twisted into a sneer. She then turned her attention to the Tian-Min woman standing next to Daktani. This her?
Daktani merely nodded, wisely opting not to say anything further to rowdy woman.
Pleased to meet you. Vegazi extended a hand toward Mesa. I'm Vegazi and, if you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it if you showed us where a place called the Killin' Ground is. We're looking to find someone there to help us out with a job.
The middle-aged half-orc slowly shook his head. Much too earnest for her own good. I can see this will be an interesting side job.
“Thunder sticks. They are a specialty instrument for percussion. The chambers are separated by the cork and with the proper string they can be set up for a rhythmic burst. It generally adds a percussive beat to the end or opening of a piece though in a pinch it can replace a drum tempo if the song is short enough and the stick long enough.” Mesa explained ignoring the two half orcs as they argued.
As the lovers spat died down she turned back to the half orcs once more. Looking briefly at the offered hand curiously before offering a small bow instead, not really confused by the gesture , but why waste the air of mystery and differing culture the Tian-min who came before her had spread in these lands. Besides, Mesa had no idea where that hand had been.
“Alright I can show you the way. It seems I need to go back to this man's shop in town any way. Provided he is willing to sell me what I need. It is not as if I am asking for much. A liter would be more than enough to make a number of them with some to spare.” Mesa commented as she turned back to Gorkis. “ Will I need a writ or something from you in order to purchase the materials at your store?”
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Gorkis nodded. I can draw up a writ for you right now, if you like. Without wasting another word, the human reached once more beneath the display and produced a sheet of paper, a vial of black ink, and a metal-tipped wooden stylus. He began to scrawl some seemingly illegible writing on the paper, which he immediately handed over to Mesa. This letter should be enough to convince my wife to round up what ingredients you need. Just make sure you don't use those materials for anything other than entertainment purposes.
Daktani turned his attention from Vegazi to Mesa. I can show you where his shop is. Just because I haven't ever been to the Killin' Ground doesn't mean I haven't been to That 'n' Such.
Gorkis glared at the the half-orc. You better not call it that where Jess can hear you, Dak. You know she hates that name. Almost as much as she hates being called 'Crazy Jess'.
I know, I know. Daktani seemed a bit more at ease with the human than he was with Vegazi, who glared at him impatiently. I better get going before she says something else. I'll talk with you later, Gorkis.
Catch you later, Daktani the human said somewhat absently as he was already dealing with another customer.
Mood Music: Zack Hemsey - Silver Crimson Black (Instrumental)
Great. Vegazi seemed to be in a rush to leave. You know we don't have a whole lot of time to find who we're looking for.
Settle down, will you. We can head on to where we need to be without having to go to the tavern. We already found the one we needed to meet.
Vegazi gave Daktani a rather blank expression that indicated her confusion. The older half-orc explained as they continued walking.
While I haven't been to the Killin' Ground, I do know that besides the hooch Rabus serves, the only other reason to go there is the music. Given that she brought up that subject to Gorkis and is wearing a three-stringed instrument on her back, I think that this young lady is the one Silvermane wanted you to find.
Vegazi looked from Daktani to Mesa then back again at Daktani. Her?! What good is she going to be in a fight?
“I did not plan on it, though if it eases your mind any I have no plans to use it inside the Killin Grounds either, that place would go up like a candle from all the spilled ale.” She glances at the writ tucking it inside of her Kimono before turning back to the half orcs looking up at them with a sigh.” Alright shall we go then. I have things to do.”
Mesa waited until the male was done talking with the shop keeper before heading back towards town. She was mildly upset that she had not had time to seek out some one cooking drumsticks or the like , but the sooner she dropped these two off the better. Reaching into her kimono Mesa brought out a long curved pipe, placing the end in her mouth and lighting it with a small flick of her fingers.
Mesa's amber eyes narrowed as the pair of them talked. As the conversation continued she was considering simply losing them in the crowd until they mentioned Silvermane, because of course he would send some one. Still her annoyance was starting to show on her features, despite her attempt to calm herself with what she assumed was decent tobacco for this part of the world..
“I am standing right here, so would you two giants mind NOT talking over me or down to me. I realize that may be difficult, but maybe if you crouch.........” Mesa muttered the last, she was really starting to not like the one called Vegazi. The other one was at least polite.
“So what did the silver foof head want?”
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Vegazi cast a puzzled side glance at the Tian-Min woman. The silver floof head?. Then her eyes widened as understanding finally dawned on her. Oh! You mean Silvermane.
Daktani cradled his face with his hand and let out an exasperated sigh.
Vegazi painted a picture with her words that enabled Mesa to visualize what transpired previously...
Kyt and Brinya are still in danger and will need aid. Who will go to their aid if we take this offer. We need the rest, but we can not allow them to fall if we can aid them.
Nyym looks between each member of the group, then back to the new arrival in hopes of an answer. As he did, again the internal conflict waged yet again.
When Nyym spoke of Kytynna, the druid's brow knit itself into a tight furrow. It was then that Vegazi spoke up, I can find her. These folks just saved my life, so anything I can do to help is fine by me.
Silvermane nodded, relief and appreciation vying for dominance on his face. [color=blue]You have both my thanks and gratitude, Vegazi the Devil Sword.[/color] When the half-orc's eyes widened at being recognized, the old elf allowed himself to smile. [color=blue]Even in Trunau, tales have told of your exploits. You skill will serve us well during coming trial.[/color] Silvermane then turned to regard Nyym. [color=blue]Your comrade will be well looked after.[/color]
At the appearance of the ancient one, Liesel-Marie bows, "Silvermane. You seem to come to our aid often. Thank you." She turns to the Devil Sword, "You will have to tell me how you got that name someday. For now, take Dak with you if he still breathes. He owes a debt he knows I will collect if he doesn't pay up. I nominate you to make sure he does his part." She winks and extends a hand for a warrior's clasp.
Once the members of Team Ruby had gone through the portal, Silvermane looked to Vegazi. [color=blue]I have a side task for you, Devil Sword. There is another who has yet to realize her importance in what is to come. You'll find her at the tavern in town known as the Killin' Ground. Inform her that she is to help you with your mission.[/color]
Vegazi shrugged. Will I know her when I see her?
The druid nodded.
Vegazi then scratched her head. The thing is, I didn't exactly know you when I saw you. She then shrugged her shoulders. But we found you, so we're off to save Kyt and Brinya.
Do you even know where you need to go? Daktani thought he already knew the answer, but a part of him was hoping that he might be wrong.
As it turned out, he wasn't.
Vegazi looked as though she was about to respond to the older half-orc's question, but instead gave a crest-fallen look. No.
Daktani looked over at Mesa and shook his head. Well, I suppose it's a good thing Liesel-Marie wanted me to tag along with you. Because we're here.
Mood Music: Zack Hemsey - Silver Crimson Black
The trio had navigated the streets of Trunau, passed through both inner gates, and arrived at the boarding house just northwest of the Commons. As the group looked on, they could see a funerary spray of roses, lilies from Tian Xia, chrysanthemums and mini carnations, all white in color, were artfully arranged amongst emerald palm fronds and lush greens on the door.
Vegazi pushed open the door and upon entering the receiving area, found the corpse of the caretaker. The ranger immediately drew the pair of swords that had been resting on her back.
Mesa nearly mimicked the half orc males face palm, though she refrained and simply took a deeper puff on her pipe. As much as she wanted to, she had the wisdom not to try and goad the large woman, at least not while within arms reach.
“Fine, though I still need to stop by the shop before we leave.........” Mesa trailed off as she entered the building seeing the corpse of the caretaker. Her gaze drifted up to the ceiling at the sounds of fighting though her shoulders slumped as the half orc drew her weapons.
"Stairs are over there.” Mesa stated not exactly trusting the half orc to be able to locate them on her own. Still if Vegazi ran up the stairs, Mesa would be right behind her.