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"Neither will we Bree, neither will we" he jests, trying to lift morale.
"I should hope not. A great deal to observe and learn, the saga gets a new act, and finding your brother shall be the climax."
Winter manages to get a chuckle and a smile from Bree. To Sebastian she says, "If we do actually find him." It's obvious that she's afraid to let herself get to hopeful.
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Grim determination set into Kabal. Every bone in his body screamed at him to cut the necro elf down and run as far and as fast as he could before allowing himself to be turned into a drow...gods be damned but Corvax would've never gone for this...bloody coward!...
We'll find him Bree...if we have to slaughter the whole damn city to do so.
A not so small part of the Brevian wished that they had to do just that.
Bree leans into the Kabal's side for a moment, gently nudging him with her shoulder. "Thanks."
Caterine follows with jaw set grimly... not looking forward to the transition, but perhaps looking forward a little too much to the 'mock' battle.
The creepy elf opens the door to a low small building the tip of his quarterstaff and inhales audibly
Ah...the sweet sent of death and beginning putrefication!...please, come in everyone and choos your...new body!
In the gloomy room the bodies of ten drow rest on stony beds
These are the ones that weren't damaged too heavily, heh.
Kabal had waded through many a field of battle so the smell of death was not as repugnant. He walked down the line of bodies looking for one that came closest to his size and that was also male...aint no way I'm gonna galavant about as some hussy broad...
Bree moves hesitantly into the room, stopping to examine the various female Drow. Occasionally, she reaches out and touches the face of one, turns the hand of another to look at their palms. Finally, after moving back and forth between a couple, she makes a decision and stands next to corpse watching her companions move about as they select their dead. A sense of sadness sweeps over her, she crosses her arms beneath her breasts, her fingers resting on her daggers where she takes from them some small sense of comfort.
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Sable tentatively looks into the room, then hesitates, and leans down to plant a kiss on the back of Kaerishiel's hand. "In case I get trapped on ebon wings, at least you'll have this token." Sable examines the unclaimed bodies, looking not for gender, but one that matches his frame and build. He seeks a spellcaster's delicate fingers rather than the calloused hands of a warrior. As he examines, he passes his hands over the corpses, keeping Korax from lighting upon any of the frames. In
Sable will stand behind his chosen drow body, awaiting the expertise of Giseil.
Sebastian moves along the bodies, he lingers near a lithe female but moves on to a dextrous and good looking male . Seeing Sable's choice he raises an eyebrow, "You are a brave man. I considered the choice, thinking of the unique perspective it might afford. A great learning opportunity. But then I thought about the chance of permanence. I will learn enough with this body." He ends with giving his a nice pat on the head.
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"Any of these ebon feathered... cloaks will offer us new perspective. Though this variety of disguise does raise many questions. What if we meet family members or loved ones of the fallen... do drow love? And Sebastian, as entertaining as the thought might be, I would forgo chasing the opportunity to leave some poor dark lark with any of your hatchlings in two seasons. We might wear their feathers, but our souls will still fill these eyes. It would be a shame for some mother to have to explain her pale~skinned chick in a few winters." Sable chuckles, but continues to ponder the extent of the endeavor they are about to undergo.
Finding a suitable body and seeing that the others had pretty made up their minds as well; Kabal began stripping himself of his gear and laying it in a pile. If anyone should pay him heed he'll answer with a blunt.
Gonna be a lot easier doing it now than trying to take it off my own lifeless body after this dark ritual.
"I don't think that we'll uh, that we'll um actually be leaving our bodies behind, if I understood what he was saying right. I think we're going to, er, wear the drow like a second skin somehow."
There is a distinct look of horror in Bree's eyes as she speaks to Kabal about wearing drow.
She looks to the old necromancer and asks in elven, "Should we though, I mean, undress before doing this?"
With a sigh Caterine finds herself a facsimile for her current form and stands beside it... muttering to herself "Aki harcol szörnyek meg kell nézni, hogy az, hogy ő maga nem lesz a szörnyeteg. És amikor tekintete hosszú egy szakadék a szakadék is bámul beléd."
Oh Nitzsche :)
The necromancer looks at Kabal and raises an eyebrow
You warriors are all the same, braggarts through and through...no one askd you to strip your clothes...the girl is right, they will kinda replace your skin...while not really doing it, lie down next to them on the stones. Oh and you... he looks at Sable You won't really feel like a woman, you will just look like one.
Kaerishiel grins and whispers to Sable As if you weren't exotic enough...
Chagrined; Kabal shook his head and began putting his things back on...and Im supposed to undestand this second skin nonsense...like bloody slithering snakes... The big man then did as the necro elf advised and laid down by his chosen body.
Bree hesitantly lays down next to the body, but then sits back up again. "Are you gonna do us all at the same time? Are you gonna be touching me?" She looks panicked.
Grinning at Bree the necromancer hisses
Yes...but you will like it, heh.
Once everyone has laid down next to one of the dead drow, Kaerishiel and the other elves leave, the door is closed and somehow it feels like the twilight in the room turns several shades darker.
Giseil now takes out a rusty old sickle and moves to one of the bodies you did not choose, lying on your backs, the necromancer is now out of your sight...
You can only hear that he is cutting something...the sound is terrible as the weapon cuts through skin, muscles, sinews and at last grinds through bone...
Her eyes grow wide, she looks truly terror stricken. Somehow she manages to find the strength to make herself lay back down, only the thoughts of finding her brother keep her there.
The sounds of the elf's task were familiar ones to the Brevian although it was a bit odd that there was no true violence behind the act.
You need a cleaver for that work necro.
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Winter kicks the body across a bit and shuffles closer to Bree.
Bree hears Winter's shuffling, and feels a sense of peace and courage wash over her with his presence. Her breathing calms, and her trembling subsides but when she looks at the Aasimar he can see tear tracks cover her face and they still glisten in her eyes. She tries to offer him a smile, but it looks much more like a grimace.
Caterine lies in state with peaceful anticipation.
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...or better yet an axe... Yah, a nice heavy axe is good for chopping...
"I am thinking of leaving this part out during the performance of this saga.
Oh shut up, I have to concentrate or you will probably just be transported into the body of a dead fly! ...well, that would at least be a match regarding brain size... the necromancer growls while pausing in his work.
When Kabal has finally shut up, Geiseil takes up the severed head and walks past all of you, dripping blood over your and "your drow's" body.
After he has walked through the room like this for three times, you suddenly feel a dizziness coming up...your body feels heavier and heavier and in the end you are all unable to keep your eyes open.
Everyone roll a D100
Your necromantic travel goes unhindered and as you open your eyes again, your hair is silver and your skin black, otherwise you feel totally unchanged.
Your necromantic travel goes mostly unhindered, but traces of the dead drow's soul still linger in the very fabric of his body. It costs you quite some mental and physical power to fight these remnants and become new owner of the body. Your maximum hit points are reduced by 3 until you have regained your normal body.
Your necromantic travel is heavily hindered by an echo of the dead drow's soul. You have a hard time fighting down the remanants of the drow's psyche and you feel like you have to concentrate permanently not to lose control again. Your maximum constitution, intelligence and wisdom are reduced by 1 until you have regained your normal body.
Your necromantic travel fails entirely as you try to enter the drow's body, the echo of his soul is still strong enough to oppose you, a psychic battle ensues - Will Save DC 16
Kabal started to laugh at the necro's assessment of his mental capabilities but bit his tongue when he thought he just might end up as a fly...karma being a complete b@++* and all... He blacked out like he often did after too much whiskey with horrid nightmares of women being in charge and huge spiders wanting to procreate with him.
When he came too he felt as if nothing had happened...damned elf aint no proper wizard....What the hell?! He admonished when he saw his black tinged hands...now aint this rich?...it actually worked!..
The Brevian rose to his feet and looked to see how his companions had fared.
Well? How do I look?
Bree stands swiftly, and turns to the voice . She looks at what appears to be a drow standing before her and she feels herself reaching for her knives automatically but catches herself. "You look like a bloody drow. What about me?" She turns her head to where Winter lay near her to see how he has appears.
"Oooh, yuck. Do any of you taste that? Ha, Kabal? You look like a.....Foolish Meowling! Sebastian looks shocked and worried, something his new body was not accustomed to, "I am not sure where that came from?"
Wow, worst possible result.
Bah! Don't go start acting like a drow now Sebastian. Might get you confused when things get thick.
The smile evident was enough proof that Kabal was kidding in rare form.
"Let's get through that portal immediately, before I manifest my disgust in less productive ways. No more conversations, no more trickery, we get down there and do what we must to get this young Brandon out of there and the information we need." Winter dons his mail, grabs his sword, and storms towards the portal.
Bree finds herself smiling when she sees Drow Kabal smile. This confuses her terribly, and so she frowns.
To Winter, "Yes, let's."
Giseil looks very pleased with his ritual when a band of drow rises before him
Hah! It has worked...just as I assumed...how do you feel? Is everyone ok? Anyone feeling new sadistic tendencies?
No point asking Winter, he is half way to the portal by now... if he stayed longer he might do or say something he might regret to his elven allies - his mind is now only interested in the Drow. He is a ferret setting off down a rabbit hole.
Easing into her new perverse and foul home, Caterine rises - staring at darkened hands and tracing the edge of an ear that is now sharper than it was before. Eyes are momentarily hazy in reflection as she finds herself now sheathed in the half of her heritage that first rejected her and was then denied by herself in turn. Sighing she hears the words and forces emotion to submerge... it would not serve her well where they were going.
The sound of the voice of the surface dwellers now seemed somewhat alien to he and she hardened the edge of her words and venemously barked "Használja nem a nyelv a vásár is ... meg kell megszólalnia a szerepet." before a threatening look at the necromancer who molested her spirit and she follows Once-Was-Winter... adding as an afterthought "And if you don't know what I just said... best keep your voice low"
Bree was quick on Winter's tail, giving the necromancer only a passing glance and a sneer.
New sadistic tendencies? Hah! That's rich. I feel fine mage. Looks like we're off.
Kabal fell in behind Bree, Cat and Winter heading for the Shadow Gate.
As you join the elves at the gate, Kaerishiel lays her hand on Winter's arm and says
Remember, we only get one shot at this, so whatever confronts you on the other side of the gate, always remember that we are now the enemy and that there is no way back.
"It's just a role. I am a Drow. I am a Drow....I am Drow...alright hold that, right there....Ready, just had to find my character...it comes right to the surface is seems. Nasty little brute, it seems."
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Sable sits up and blinks, gazing down as his... her new form.
You close your eyes and push through the gate...a moment of dizziness follows, then follows a mildewed smell and a cold gust - as you open your eyes again, you are in a vast cavern of reddish-brown stone. In small groups purple stalagmites stand together and between them are wagons and tents of drow warriors who look more than surprised to see you. There are about three dozen of them and as soon as the first surface elves follow you through the portal they grab their weapons and rush to your help!
As they breach the portal Caterine runs a few steps towards the drow setting her whip dancing to one side with a crack. Over her shoulder she screams at her companions "Harcolj te értéktelen disznók! Ha nem teszik véreznek érezni fogja az ízét én ostor." the end of her sentence punctuated by sending the cracker of her whip seeking the eyes of one of the following elves...
Dirty Trick (Blind):