Brek is swift to move as he watches the catman collapse, putting an arm beneath the armpits to support the catman.
Brek soon discovers that........he isn't strong as the weight is nearly enough to send both himself and Krokkin to the ground. Grunting as his face flushes with exertion, he manages to lower the catman gently to the ground though the effort leaves him panting for a short while.
"Ok." he pants.
"Might be a little too much simulation for our friend here. He's napping."
"Nothing wrong as far as I can from his condition but I'm not particularly well versed in healing...."
Ohime's song will rise with the cacophony of the woodland sprite's tones, causing Krokkin to inquire of her. For whatever reason, he seems infatuated with the melody coming from her only. Ohime focuses all the more at him as he inquires of her, and doesn't answer him. Like an enchantress pressing even further into the mind of her victim, she continues.
Their forest friend seems to want to cause problems, but instead of calming as hoped, the assault of sound as well as her calming effect sends the feline into a disassociative hypnosis unknowningly. When she turns his head, he has a few simple moments before falling into a deep trance and due to his exhaustion of the day (among other reasons), passes out.
Ohime will nod to Brek concerning Krokkin before turning to face the little laughter.
"I believe you are correct, Brek."
Sorogar quickly tries to assist Brek when Krokkin falls over. moves up to check on Krokkin when he faints, then quickly glances over everyone else. No one seemed any worse for wear yet...? What was happening?
She checked his pulse to find it regular and his breathing steady, if slow. Some sort of natural sleep like Brek suggested? "Why did he react so strongly to you? What are you doing?" she asks Ohime.
Looking around for Indras again, she adds: "What do you want from us? You speak in nothing but riddles and vague answers. You said it was forbidden for us to be here. Again: by who, and why? What do you mean that the weight of them damned weighs Krokkin down? And do you or do you not know of a way for us to cross? If not, a caravan of around two hundred and fifty people will attempt to cross this river tomorrow!"
It will peak out of her hood quite stealthily.
Stealth: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (7) + 18 = 25
Ohime will turn to see the laughter behind them all, hoping to pick out where the true creature is really hiding.Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31
kro...kroonin..krokin... the creature stumbles over the unfamiliar word.He knows his rage can't help him. He has felt his angers lack of control and knows it has betrayed him. That is why he is sleeping. He will be ok once his mind adjusts around this knew knowledge. If he seeks the answer he was sent for he must rely on more than just anger or he will not find it's answer.
Creatures continues 5:25 to 7:15
As you what he steps into the high grass and is gone.
The apparition behind some of you speaks again, showing no ill intent I will bring him back to wakefulness. His story is his to continue though. A diminutive form gaseous in nature drifts over to Kronkin and settles down nearby with in reach, and stretches out a appendage.
It touches Kronin and seems to flow into all the crevasses in his head. HE twitches for a few moments then slowly open his eyes.
THe music from somewhere enfolds you and you dream.
Stealth: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (7) + 18 = 25
Ohime will turn to see the laughter behind them all, hoping to pick out where the true creature is really hiding.
Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31
kro...kroonin..krokin... the creature stumbles over the unfamiliar word.He knows his rage can't help him. He has felt his angers lack of control and knows it has betrayed him. That is why he is sleeping. He will be ok once his mind adjusts around this knew knowledge. If he seeks the answer he was sent for he must rely on more than just anger or he will not find it's answer.
Creatures continues 5:25 to 7:15
As you what he steps into the high grass and is gone.
The apparition behind some of you speaks again, showing no ill intent I will bring him back to wakefulness. His story is his to continue though. A diminutive form gaseous in nature drifts over to Kronkin and settles down nearby with in reach, and stretches out a appendage.
It touches Kronin and seems to flow into all the crevasses in his head. HE twitches for a few moments then slowly open his eyes.
THe music from somewhere enfolds you and you dream.
The apparition draws back moving so the moon is in front of it and fades from view. THe music continues you at the same mix of "instruments" as before. THe tempo varies and intensity as well but seems to have no other intent than to be music.
A quiet yet firm whispering voice speaks out from among the grasses and as it does the music pauses briefly. start the fire if you wish to see INdras. They are incorporeal and are hard to see without something light behind them.THey are usually innocent but left to test those that would cross sacred water. The voice stops and then a little ways off its music starts up again only extremely different and invigorating new song
Brek waves his hands and a swarm of bees arrive at his call. They buzz around his hands before he direct them to their fire.
"If it's fire that lets us see them then Fire it is." he says as he finishes his spell.
He then focus and a lynx appears, stalking the man before leaping to his head and becoming a pair of cat like spectacles.
"I might also need the eyes of a cat."
To Sorogar she shakes her head.
"It is not me he reacted to, but rather himself. I simply sang to calm him and to counter the song playing, should it magically have been effecting him. I, however, do not believe it was. This is all him, as Indras stated."
The apparition touches Krokkin and seems to go into his head.
"Illusion?" she wonders. However, when he slowly opens his eyes, she counters the thought and kneels down as she is still right there.
"Come...wake up. Our trials are not over yet. It appears our friend Indras is a pipe player. He or she was over there and went into the grasses."
She will hold out a robed hand to him and will try with an effort to help him. Krokkin will definitely feel that she is not strong, but not completely weak either.
Once up, she decides that if she cannot cast light spells, she will try to add to the magnificence of the song, and perhaps appease the player. She pulls out a Shakuhachi bamboo flute and begins to play integral parts of the song through improvisation and so as to not upset the balance of its raw and untamed beauty--rather enhance it.
Seeing Brek and Ohime take actions to either find the source or interact with the Music and seemingly doing all right, Sorogar instead keeps her attention on Krokkin.
What was going on, in there? Was he all right?
"Pussy!" Dawon says from the sight, grinning at the prone cat and licking his lips in the meantime.
She sighed. "Come on, Krokkin. Don't pass out on us so easily."
If he doesn't get up at Ohime's call, she tries to gently prod him awake. Failing that, she opens her flask of water and sprinkles some of it in his face.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
As krokkin seemingly falls into the depths of Ohime's eyes he is engulfed in a deep dark star sparkling expanse. While there is no evidence of motion he has a vague sensation of being gently lowered thru the darkness. The strange thing is that the golden stars seems to sparkle and pulse to this otherworldly music.
The pull and tambour of the music is hypnotic and he feels as if he is floating away from his body. He is almost at peace in this void. Only a tiny part of the back of his brain seems at all concerned with this tranquility. He can no longer feel the body he is contained in and his sense of self begins to feel smaller and smaller in the vastness of this beautiful realm.
Just as he is about to relinquish his hold of sense of self the tambour of the music changes again and the expanse he is in is ripped away to a new reality violently. His body surges with energy and he is running on the tops of ten foot poles.
He recognizes that he is in his favorite annual festival game. He easily and smoothly clears the 6 foot gaps between the tree poles where the top is only a foot in diameter. The course is laid out in the rough shape of an oval with 10 different obstacle stations to get thru. The course as a track to follow for two competitors and the goal is to run the course twice. The first to complete wins.
He looks over and is surprised to see himself running on the other track. This version of him is darker more like a shadow with coal red eyes.
Ah, a worthy challenge as he reaches for the torrent of rage within ....... and nothing is there. He looks over in shock at his darker self who smiles and then speeds up beginning to pass him.
Krokkin strains to run harder coming up to the obstacle he remembered the last race he had where he jumped to high and was not able to jump thru the gap. Instead he had smacked his head and almost gotten knocked of the poles which is an automatic disqualification. Knowing that he was not tapping into the rage he jumped like he had remembered he had before but this time he sailed straight thru the gap perfectly and continued running on the course. He looks over and realizes as he sees nothing that he heard a muffled thump as he passed thru. The sound of feet catching up to him is unmistakable and he pushes on.
At the next obstacle he up and takes a couple of steps on the side of a wall to help bridge the gap to the ring hanging ten feet away from the last pole. As he leaps he sees the dark version of himself jump straight from the pole to the ring without the wall at all.
You will never best me, I am what makes you strong, you need me. In that need I control you, you are mine."
Before he can reply and the music begins to crescendo, Krokkin hears a voice from the sky "Wake up. Our trials are not over". He all of a sudden realizes that this is not his current time, he begins to slow down realizing that he doesn't need to run the race.
As his eyes start to open and his view begins to fade away from the race, he is tackled off the pole by the dark version of himself. To Ohime his eyes open but they are unfocused and has the 1000 yard stare.
As krokkin tumbles thru the air and back into the void grappling with his shadow self, he hears
Where are you going. I control you and I am not ready to let you be. You will do what I say when I say from now on
The small corner of Krokkin's mind that has been trying to get attention like a child incessantly tapping at a door, bursts thru like a splash of water to the face.
Krokkin roars back in his mind I WILL NOT.
What Krokkin does not realize is that he roars this at the same time in his mind and out loud after the first few drops of water hit his fur. To suit the yell he leaps up as well and into a stance like a wrestler ready to grapple.
His head swings from side to side trying to search for the threat and then looks at Sorogar with an almost pleading expression.
What is going on, why am I wet?
Mosely lets out an inarticulate gurgle as Brek creates a spark and starts a fire. He rushes to pile rocks in a circle around it, a hasty firebreak so that the fire won't escape. Then he looks for dry fallen wood to feed to the fire once it's contained - shying away from greenwood, but not hesitating to use his machete and hand axe to break down a large fallen log if one should happen to be available.
Brek is taken aback at the halfling's hasty actions and wonders where did he go wrong...
He tries to aid the halfling by piling rock to prevent the flames from escaping.
"My apologies, I'm used to just having a fire at my leisure when I need it."
"As a wild wanderer who doesn't have fire magic at my beck and call, I do not have the luxury of ever considering a fire 'controlled,'" explains Mosely as he finishes adding a dirt berm to the outer ring of the hasty fire pit. "Even if it doesn't look like there's anything burnable in reach, wind can shift suddenly. You can never really contain fire - but you can lower the chance of it becoming your enemy."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
It is nice to have light once more, and although she is paying attention to Mosley and Brek's communication, she is nearer Sorogar and Krokkin, who just woke up and is busy playing her song.
As Krokkin seems in anguish upon waking up, she views his poise preparedness to roar. She has seen this before in caged wildcats from the merchants and wealthy people passing her by into the city. In her mind, she constructs a continuation to the song that plays off the roar in conjunction with the pattern of their guest's song, but as he roars out words, she reconstructs lyrical feats in her more forceful singing voice.
"I WILL NOT submit!" she cries out in a much less impressive "roaring" voice, but still effective.
"Uh-oh
Through the jungle flits a pure terror,
with paws and claws he's the one called Death Bearer.
He's awake!
Oh no, now watch the earth shake.
In among shadows he flits here and there,
so fast and unseen--walking on air.
All of a sudden, what? Now he's behind you,
he finds you, he blinds you, and then he divides you,
into one, two, or three separate portions.
That just happened, no it's not a distortion,
Now he splits you side to side into corpses, remorseless.
In sets the rigor mortis.
Tortoise, you know that that could be your fate,
that line of thinking just isn't great..."
She then will look down directly to Krokkin who asks why he is wet, and hoping to inspire him to rise to his feet, she will continue with the next verse:
"Now rise up Death Bearer,
don't sit there in your disparity,
in dexterity and severity, show them your barbarity,
then with clarity and verity,
they'll see with real celerity,
the hilarity, of waking us up is insularity."
Her words are rapidly spoken to go along with the cadence of the song, however, if the song is still going, she'll join back into the song to complete the tune. She does not seem to be overly combative, despite the words of her song.
Well played my fellow musician. Well played.Now you haven't shown your teeth with more than words. If catman can do the same I will come in so we can talk.comes a voice from the grass but not that of Indras.
Indras, you will come to! the voice changes to command at that.
The fell tall grasses move and the musician moves forward into the light. His short cropped hair so much like his height, lacking in stature and rather weathered. The piled wheat strands seem to dangle off wherever they can force through. His eyes are taunting in humor and professional respect. He steps from the grass with a piccolo like creation in his hand. He places t to his lips and plays a lilting few notes of welcome.
I am Lilliwhite of the tunes and pipe.I'm a poet though some don't know it and to others I don't show it. rolls off his lips in play as he bows. well met! musician well met!
Indras show yourself now. We wouldn't want them to think you agressive or unwelcoming. again a brusque command.
Slowly at the fires top, a small globe coalesces into the vague shape of a diminutive creature. It has the vague shape of humanoid but no features of face or body are apparent. It is more amorphous than anything.
The firelight flickers around it sending up occasionally sparks and obvious heat waves. It is these that give this creature its shape.
My friend and servant here, Indras, is as visible as she can make herself from the light sources available. THat is the joy of being incorporeal. SHe is the one that felt the need to test each of you. This is sacred ground and so each must pass a test or be ejected from the area by force if needed.
Indras is a Aeonic Wetherben a form of extraplanar emissary if you will. My part tonight was to create the accompaniment and help with the removal of you had it been required. I am glad it did not come to that. May we hail to the fire?
Then not waiting for an answer he strides in. YOu notice as he gets closer that he carries a bow, a great falchion, and 2 scimitars all on his back but within easy reach. Most of the rest of his gear remains elsewhere. He stands about the size of a small gnome that however is where the likeness ends.
Hey walks on gimp and twisted knobs of feet. It looks like they have been amputated part way up. He has a coat that matches both his hair and the grasses nearby. His face is weather worn and yet a smile is still there below the friendly excited glow in his eyes. His body s covered in down like hair but even that is unkempt and matted in places. His cloak and clothes are pos quality but well taken care of. He is a mix of misfit and propriety.
I am not sure what Indras showed you or your barbarian friend over there that caused such a ruckus. SOmetimes they are not gentle with their searching.I apologize for any unseemly damage or stress if cased. Indras doesn't understand the frailty of the mind at times. His mind is so vastly different. I do not completely understand him and I have "lived" with him for atleast 2 decades now.
Now you probably were told this is sacred ground and you are not allowed on it? That in part is true. It is sacred to Indras and any mal-intent will be rejected forcefully and painfully. If you have no mal-intent or intent to stay long, you may rest and move on. You may not linger more than one night.Is that clear? the gentle but commanding voice asks.
Waiting for no reply he continues on...you wish to cross the river to the mountains? THis could be done if you constructed the rafts else were and then brought them here. You would not be allowed to build them on hallowed ground so they would have to be brought here. There is another way up on the other side once you have crossed that should allow the wagons to go single filed up to the rim. As for bridge I am not sure if Indras would negotiate that unless it to was built elsewhere and dismantled when you left. You will have to ask him directly. He may only speak mind to mind however.He will not be what passess for happiness among them about letting any of you cross this sacred area with acaravan that large. The caravan would tend to leave damage intentionally or unintentionally just due to its size. But that you would have to negotiate with INdras Directly.
He pauses bringing his hand to his face in thought. There is another place that a beidge might be built I think. However if it broke or was built shoddily then the fall into the chasm would be a fall to death if it didn't kill you the fall over the waterfall below would.Think on it and decide. As for now I'm hungry! He sits down and produces eggs from somewhere. These eggs are multihued and of all shapes and sizes but definitely eggs. come sit and eat as a token of peace between us.
he requests motioning to the camp fire. It will be day soon so lets eat while the peace of dawn light prevails.
"What is going on? Why am I wet?"
Sorogar exhales long-held breth in relief. "Wet? That's understating it. You were sweating all over, not to mention that your pulse was much faster than it had any right to. You were begging us to help you. What was going on there, Krokkin? I think we need to talk about this since we can't have this happen to you in an actually dangerous situation."
To her side, an incorporal spirit wolf leers at him. "What she means is that you looked like a lost little kitten and needed her to throw a flask of water in your face so that you could stop your cowering daydream."
"Movah, not now!" Sorogar admonishes him. "...But yes, he is right. I did throw some water at you to wake you up. I wasn't sure what else to do since calling you didn't seem to work. Not even Ohime's enchanting voice could reach you."
She waits for Krokkin's response, then listens to Lilliwhite afterwards and accepts his invitation to join Indris and him/her for dinner. "I... see. So, we have two places to try and cross. By rafts over here, or to construct a bridge over the chasm at the place Lilliwhite mentioned. If it's true that Indras is opposed to the rafts, I think the bridge might be a better choice. It would make for a much easier crossing, not to mention that we also need to go back someday."
She looks at the others to hear their opinions.
Ohime's song resonates with Krokkin and he snaps back to himself.
I have no time for mewling like a kitten
At Sorogar response his face goes momentarily slack as he processes what she is saying. The mist made dog however brings him again to the present. He refuses to rise to the mist dogs bait.
Later we may talk, we need to be in this moment now
Suiting his words he turns to the new figure studying him as he approaches the campfire. Having a physical being appear is the last piece he needs to regain full control of himself. He now has a target to focus on. However no one is attacking so Krokkin takes the same stance sheathing his sword and shield on his back.
As this Lilliwhite walks by krokkin takes a second to admire the scimitars and see if they are attached in the same manner his sheaths are or differently.
He slowly comes closer to the fire and squats on his haunches as he watches the floating apparition above the fire almost not daring to look away.
I see you now. dirty trick to play, but I understand protecting your territory. This is my family and I would protect them as fiercely. On that I respect your power. It is not in my nature to submit. However a truce is not submitting. I offer a truce. Here to prove it.
Moments later, Krokkin sits down crosses his legs and rests his hands palms up on his knees. He closes his eyes breathing evenly.
I am trusting that you know I would only do this with someone I feel is worthy. I give permission to communicate with me in my mind.
You all show promise in one way or another. Krokkin as you call him may yet attain the control over his anger that eludes him. The others may find gems hidden with in as well. WHat is the intent and location that you travel to? This is sacred land so care must be taken of it. The "essence" seems to pulse slightly as the words playout in your head.
Lilliwhite waits only until the eggs are sunny side up before he grabs a couple with nimble fingers and "downs" them like a mug of fresh cider. Delis..ahhma...ious. he gurgles just before a large swallow followed by a belch that would wake the neighbors. Looking from one to the other of the party, you really should try some. they are delicious and there is enough for all. It is not lavish fair but it is filling...slimy but satisfying."
Finally the challenge seems to be over. She catches her breath, as her singing and flute playing can be quite straining on the lungs when you are going as crazy as the two of them were. Her hooded/masked figure will bow in thanks.
"Yes, come! You yourself were a treat. That was most fun I've had in a long time. We must be friends now."
A quiet but sure chuckle comes from under the mask, as the two probably communicated much more than anyone there understood. Music theory is a language of itself.
Once the small figure comes, she welcomes the stranger.
"Greetings, Lilliwhite...," and once Indras comes, she nods her head to it as well, "And Indras as well."
"Its form is beautiful," she thinks to herself at the sight of the flames shimmering through Indras.
"Yes, please...," she will comment and move to the fire, though no such comment seems needed.
At the discussion of the bridge, she asks Indras.
"Indras, we wish to build a bridge for our caravan to pass over. If not in your land, can you show us the borders of this sacred ground so as not to disturb it, and is there a place we could build the bridge that is to your liking?"
She will sit and nod to Lilliwhite. She would have answered him, but his fast speech is similar to his playing. Hers typically is full of sadness and slow melodies.
She would take an egg and eat it in the same manner that he does. Frankly, she loves eggs as much as snakes do. She, however, will take hers cooked more on the raw side if there is no objection.
"A wonderful peace offering, Lilliwhite."
She will offer him water and a "pons", which is a rolled-up leaf with spices and magic that cleanses the breath, cleans the teeth and leaves you feeling fresher after eating it.
In answer to Sorogar, she agrees, "I think so too. Let's maybe head back to the caravan and let them know what our plans are, and to not come this way just yet."
Mosely watches the exchange carefully. Unlike the stereotypical halfling who is always jolly and bucolic, he has the mannerisms of one who's been on the road for a time and become wary - always paying attention to unexpected noises or motion in the leaves and shadows.
He absorbs the explanations of the strange, transitory visitors without reply. Then he sets about taking out what he needs for the morning from his magical pack, sometimes comically, while rolling up and stowing away bedding and baggage that also seems to vanish into the maw of the pack ludicrously.
"Yes," he finally says while stowing his tent, "we just want the caravan to cross safely. Whether by barge, or bridge, or by-your-leave. If it is up to Indras to decide that passing, then with Indras we must confer."
Brek studies Lilliwhite and Indras as tehy show themselves and join the group.
Fascinating! he thinks as his gaze continues to drink the sights of seeing this elusive pair of guardians.
"Like what Ohimè said, we would like permission to cross with the carvans. If need be we can head back to warn them off to avoid crossing your sacred land. If you have any other suggestions, we will strongly take that into consideration." Brek nods towards Indras.
Brek gladly partakes of the eggs though it is obvious that his choice of eggs are half boiled as he takes the eggs of the heat and expertly cracks open the top to enjoy his hot treat.
"As for intent and location, I accepted this commission as a mean of earning some gold. As for where the caravan is heading too, I'm afraid I didn't ask. My companions might have a better answers for you."
Remembering the instruction was to 'speak' to Indras telepathically, she watched Brek talk but mentally adds her own message. Mosely was right, after all. Even if it seemed the bridge was clearly the better option, perhaps it was worthwhile to still consult with Indras first.
"We're heading to the northern mountains in an attempt to find a Genchtilian. A man we work for wishes to capture one and spread them to another continent. Personally, I hope this mission will lead to increased cooperation between Anderia and its overseas neighbor, if some of Anderia's beauty could be put on display there."
She idly takes the offer of eggs, wondering what kinds of eggs these were and how the guardian got them. She can't fully hide a frown upon seeing Lilliwhite's legs. What had happened to him/her to have them amputated...?
"However, to get there, we need to cross the water. The caravan is around two hundred and fifty. Would you let us pass if we made the rafts somewhere else? Would you prefer it if we made the bridge instead, anyway? And is there perhaps any way you could help us on our way, being a powerful spirit?"
With the sheer number of books and effort it took to get to them, having seen one of these creatures in front of his eyes is stunning.
His mind begins to swiftly consider every aspect of what he knew and wonders if perhaps Indras would entertain his questions?
It was worth a try.
Indras was telepathic but it seemed to him that Lilliwhite was the one in charge and Indras was perhaps a subject to him.
And so directing his thoughts towards Indras, Brek attempts to speak in his mind the way he did when attempting to further his knowledge from others. As Humbly as he can.
"I am curious about the history of this sacred ground. The texts I have read speak of your race as Eternal Guardians. Could you enlighten me about this sacred ground and what makes it sacred? Was there a great event that occurred here?"
A image of a lake appear to all of you. It is from the perspective of a bird's flight. It shows the chasm ending some distance away probably several hours by bird. There is a savannah like area surrounding the lake and the jungle isn't extremely far from the edges of the savannah. You can tell from the view that this would be a good place to cross by barge or boat. The river appears to flow into and out of the lake and the water doesn't appear to be tumultuous.
There is one! the voice from before intones.
Another image appears from the same perspective of a bird. This one shows the Chasm several minutes of bird flight wide.Looking down the river can be seen below but it appears to be a mere ribbon of water. The depth would be great and not much can be seen from the height you are at.
There is another! I could find you more if you desire. These are the fastest I can tell from here. I would allow a small party of 20 or so and a couple of wagons to cross this battlefield to scout the other side if it is done quickly and with minimal mark left upon the land. There is wood that the river has brought that may be used for transport. It may not be enough and you would have to build in the river itself. The water is swift but many with feet cross. Or you could leave the wagons and cross to scout easier portage. THe caravan can not stop here...
... But may stop beyond my borders. I will protect my duty.
Ohime does wonder what each of her other companions are thinking. For the most part, things are silent around the fire. She will speak to Lilliwhite as a common courtesy, despite the difficulty of sharing her mind with the two tasks. Also, she will take some more eggs for her plate when they are done.
"We are not ignoring you, my friend, I'm sure. Just as I am, we are speaking with Indras. So as not to be rude to you, can you tell me, do your people live in these caves nearby? We noticed them on the journey here."
Her voice is soft and peaceful. She will pull her hood down a little bit further for eating as she pulls her mask off. As she lowers her head, soft grey hair tumbles down and out of the hood. Once the food is gone, the mask returns.
In her mind, to Indras, she continues, "Thank you for showing us these images, Indras. Allow me please to speak with my companions here concerning what was seen."
"I was shown a vision of a lake."
Judging from each of her companion's faces, they too saw what she saw.
"What do we think?" asks the masked figure with a yawn. "Do we return to camp and communicate these boundaries, then have them make way toward the lake outside of Indras' boundary? Then we can scout the other side of the lake out while they do so?"
I have no people and no companions other than Idras.THat is why I stated that company is a welcome distraction from time to time. I do not go to the caves as many of them have other denizens of this area in them. Some are monsters themselves, and yet others have burning water from the underbelly of the mountain explode out.So, I live here and there where ever Indra goes is home, but I like to roam a bit. comes the answer around eggs being chewed.
The creature you are hunting also hunts wyverns so you could make a mere snack for it. Ogres roam the region in large tribes. And there are rumors of atleast 1 hill giant having allied with ogre tribes. It is not a safe place to go although many think they can do it.
I will go now but Indras and I will be around. As an offering of good intent I will give you these. He holds out his hand and there are 5 small beads in it. Each has a different symbol inscribed upon it. They are bead of prayer. One cast bless, one cast divine favor, one casts shield of faith, one cast bane, and one casts bless weapon. They are only useful once. Crush the bead to activate. He hands to Ohime with a smile.
your fluting and singing were beautiful. It made for such a fun game. Thank you for the entertainment. Here is a potion of conquest for I feel you won that contest. The potion will protect you from evil for about 20 min. Use wisely.
With that he turns and quickly melds into the grass. Indras fades from view as it follows his companion.
"Thank you, Lilli-" *poof*
"And there they go," Sorogar sighs. "Wish I could have asked them more about the region. From his questions, i gather that I really don't know much about our Fey 'allies' or what is really going on around here. What happened here in ages past to make this a battleground? We should probably talk with Fireken's ambassador when we get back to the caravan."
She nods at Ohime's suggestion. "Let's go to sleep and return to camp in the morning. We can parley with the commander on which option is the better one; the longer yet safer path through the jungle to the meadow or trying to build a bridge across the chasm at the nearby location. I'm not sure how much time the caravan would lose travelling that distance and how much it would throw of off-course."
She takes the prayer bead and starts heading back to her bedroll. "I'm probably the weakest fighter here among all of us. I'll take the bead that helps all of you fight better."
Although he can't see it, Ohime pouts at Lilliwhite's loneliness.
"Well, I am glad to have met you."
He seems to volunteer some information that unsettles her a bit. She will fold her legs under her nervously. She is shaken from her nervous thoughts by the offer he gives.
"Oh...Oh thank you. You are sweet."
A melodious chuckle will come from Ohime and her hooded golden eyes will squint with a smile at Lilliwhites compliments. If he could smell the air like a serpent, he would detect her blush, even if her scales did not show it.
"I will dream all the more soundly thinking of you and your compositions," she returns in compliment as her other hand collects the potion. Her eyes will study it intently. When she looks up, they both are gone.
"Well...That was nice..." she whispers quietly to herself. To Sorogar, she replies, "I agree, it would have been nice to ask many more questions, but probably during the day would have been nicer..."
Ohime nods about going to sleep and will slowly rise, dusting off her robe.
"It is probably my watch now, huh?"
As requested, Ohime will hand Sorogar the bead she desires.
"Would anyone else want to use some of these?"
"No need for beads," says Mosely. "Help yourself. That's good intel on the region. Tells us a bit more about the ecosystem, too - you can't have roving tribes of ogres unless there's a lot of stuff for them to eat, which means plenty of animal life or edible plants, most likely both."
Krokkin remains silent thru the last of the conversation and leaving, then gets up and moves to the area overlooking the camp. As he heads out he answers Ohime's question.
I will take watch, I cannot sleep anymore. He does not wait for a response or polite discourse.
He sits and starts to scan the area for threats while keeping an eye on the camp. After about 20 minutes he softly begins to cry, his mind flashing back to the events of the night and his fever dream. So many words struck at the core of the fears that he could not put words to. This thing captured his fears into words and now those words were attacking over and over in his brain like vultures diving to fininsh off doomed prey.
Unbeknownst to Krokkin the sound of his lament is louder than he realized and can be heard softly from the camp.
The dawn comes sooner than any of you expected. The sunset is magnificent rising in brilliant oranges and reds. The clouds drift across the horizon lit with light from behind making them appear to glow.
The grass moves almost in memory of the songs played just the night before. The sounds of nature are all about you as you gather your gear and prepare for the day.
Brek retires for the night seeing that their brief encounter is over.
"I say we discuss the beads once the next morning breaks. For now let us take our rest."
His sleep is sound and within his dreams he seems to hear a cry of pain but from where or what he can't tell. Perhaps on the morrow will things reveal themselves.
Indras' attempts to dislodge guilty emotions from her had hit a wall. A life of recently feeling guilty non-stop by people's assaultive words had made her stronger than she realized. What had it done to the always-strong-Krokkin? Not only could she hear him quietly crying, but her little birdy told her he was before she asked the bird to ignore it and go back to sleep in the bush near her bed.
With Brek's suggestion, she will stow the beads and potion safely in her belt inside her robe.
"Alright, have a good sleep."
Despite her willingness to keep watch, she is tired still due to the rude awakening and gladly returns to sleep. She will stir only once before morning. Other than that, she is silent.
In the morning, her thrush has already been up hunting a wide myriad of insects, snails, and worms. Unlike many birds, her thrush will remain quiet until she stirs awake. Once Ohime is up, however, it is proudly singing with the much more vibrant birds to announce the morning's sun.
Ohime will actually hesitate to pull her hood down in front of the others and instead will go off for her morning grooming. As each other member rises or has stayed awake, she will greet them once she is ready for the day. It seems she is quite elusive and adamant about remaining hidden. At that point, if Mosley has not begun to cook breakfast as he had mentioned, she will attempt it, and at the very least, get the coffee going.
"Does anyone know what the day's forecast seems to be in this place? Are we to look for more acid rain?"
Sorogar hears Krokkin during the night, but is unfortunately too exhausted by this point to do anything about it. Plus, all party members were near. She figured that the previously proud warrior would probably prefer to have a conversation in a more secluded place.
So instead, she goes to sleep and does so nearly instantly.
She rises early by an impatient nib of brujah who pulls her by the ear. Dinner time, it seemed, and she wasn't getting out of it. "Right, right. I'm coming, don't worry..."
Still half asleep and with her hair messed up in almost every possible direction, she sits herself down next to Ohime and starts feeding Brujah with some nuts on from the palm of her hand.
"Good morning," she greats Ohime. "Acid rain...?" she looks up groggily and wipes some sleep from her eyes. "If there's no clouds in any direction, probably not. It acts like normal rain except it reeks of Sulfur and... Salpeter, I think you outsiders call it."
She adds a pan of herself to the fire and adds some Jerky along with some herbs for herself. She looks to see if Krokkin is up and if yes, asks him if he wants something to eat too. Then, she asks Ohime: "By the way... I didn't really want to pry, but I can't deny being curious. What exactly are you, and why do you pretend to be an old woman when you're really not? If you don't mind telling, that is."
With the touch of daylight caressing his face, Brek is up and awake with some use of his magic to freshen up.
"Fine morning to all of you." is his cheery greeting to his companions or those who are awake enough to respond............
Overhearing Ohime's question leaves him puzzled.
"Why would we be expecting acid rain? Is there some weather phenomenon that we should be looking out for? Is that why this is sacred ground?" he asks each question carefully after some thought.
As for Sorogar's question to Ohime, he doesn't pry after all not everyone wants their secrets shared openly and freely.
Ohime feels clean because she bathed with "leaf water" collected from the jungle. Her prestidigitation spell cleaned her clothes, as it cleans objects, and so she feels fresh after a long day of having a hike previously. As they wake-up and greet her, she'll return the salutations.
"Well, it happened before, so it could happen again, even here," she replies to Brek. "It was nerve-racking to experience that," she replies as she was in the camp when the acid rain fell before. It hadn't been too long since that time, so she was curious if their more ranger-esque folks could read the signs of the skies.
It is clear from Sorogar's question that Ohime is disturbed based on her body language alone.
"I don't pretend," she barely eeks out, "It's complicated. I...I am a vishkanya, a very recognizable vishkanya." She will pause for a few moments, not sure how much to divulge to the teenager. There is a chance those in her group know of her and already hold hatred toward her. "Where I come from, the people despise me, so I hide. I hide in this robe. Behind this mask," she explains with patience, but a hinting tone of frustration behind it all.
"I have become accustomed to wearing them. It helps me to be able to buy food and people forget about me--that I exist." A less frustrated tone, and a more mirthful one emits out at being thought of as an old woman. "I suppose the old woman thing started because I was getting my supplies stolen, because I couldn't feel when someone was in my pack--because of the robe--so I started wearing my pack underneath." As they had witnessed, it had given her quite a hunchback look like an older woman bent over. "I didn't intend to be thought of as an older woman, but I have grown used to it in recent times as it's helped me actually meet people and talk with them before they make up their minds about me."
As the camp starts to stir, Krokkin comes down from his watch point. By this time his time of weakness is over and he is in control of his outward self. He quickly and efficiently packs up his tent and belonging.
When Sorogar asks him about food he realizes that he is hungry.
Yes please, he says a little gentler and with much less bluster than he would have the day before. He finishes clearing his part of the camp and sits down next to Sorogar. He keeps scanning over the camp as if he is still on watch. The side effect is that he does not have to meet anyones eyes for more than a moment as he continues scanning the area.
your team travels for most of the day, backtracking where you have already gone. Finally signs of the camp appear and then the camp. The camp's mood is solemn and not the typically boisterous noise one would expect.
Halt! And state your business before you become a living pincushion.Comes a voice from the foliage an you hear the audible ***click*** of crossbows being locked in place.
It seems out of place as you have never been accosted on enterance to camp before.
Brek perks up as Ohime speaks. It is clear that he is interested in Ohime's words.
"A vishkanya!" he looks pleased.
"I would be interested in knowing about your people, their ways and history if time permits and should you grant me that honor." the wandering self styled scholar asks.
"Your secret is safe with me and I would not reveal who you are to your hunters." he continues. It seems that Brek has run into his fair share of hunters. Particularly one that doesn't give up.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---
"It is us!" Brek calls out.
"We are back from scouting the way forward and bring news on possible routes though It would be much appreciated if you do not waste those bolts upon us. Much appreciated indeed." Brek continues speaking.
Sorogar's eyes widen in surprise. "That sounds horrible! What's so wrong about being a Vis...kanya?" she asks Ohime. "And why would people hate someone for being born a certain way? It's not like a foal of any kind has a choice of who their parents are."
She nods along with Brek, mentally noting that something was off about his reply. Was he hunted as well...?
Were all outsiders so intolerant? If they were, perhaps this all wasn't a step towards improvement, but one towards disaster.
She swallows and supresses a cold shiver as she imagines a bloody war between the more advanced people from the other continent and the more tribal inhabitants of the rainforests, perhaps backed up by the creatures here. The outcome would be devastating .
When Krokkin joins him, she gives him her pan. "Jerky, but with some lemon zest and fresh rinsed spring onions we found foraging yesterday. Hopefully it's somewhat appetizing. So, you feel better now?" she asks him, offering a small smile. "I hope so, because we have a lot of ground to cover today."
-------------
Sorogar blinks at the hostile reception and feels a feeling of dread creep down her back. And it wasn't Brujah taking a piss as he'd inadvertantly done as an infant.
'Oh no...'
"Brek speaks the truth. I am Sorogar, and i'd expect most of you to know me from sight since I went about healing the entire camp in the wake of the attack yesterday. There aren't that many half-orc healers among you," she crosses her arms and looks up the palisades. "Now; what happened here? Please don't tell me you're about to tell me that the camp commander was killed while we were out scouting?"
Brek's reaction somewhat shocks her. She will crumple up more, but realizing he is not offended, she relaxes a bit.
"In truth, nothing is wrong with being what I am. I hide myself not because I fear for my life. I hide myself to keep others from thinking such evil thoughts of me. Not that I can't take it, I just...I suppose I would like people to think better of others, as silly as that sounds. I'd rather wear this robe than have them think of me in such a negative way. I have been fortunate enough not to be hunted, as vishkanya are openly allowed in my city, but I have been assaulted. I don't believe it is connected to my race, however, as some of my friends in the past have said that it is because of a rumor had spread about me--rumors not connected to being a vishkanya. I must have made someone mad somewhere along the way? Are any of you from Folyste?" she asks, concerning a city not overly far from where the ships set off from. If anyone is from there, they would have heard some of the rumors of her.
-She steals from travelers
-She poisoned the Mortaries Guild Master
-She is military trained
-Her scales are not multicolored but rather a light pink
-At a younger age it is said she was an adventurer
-She takes advantage of wealthy men and sleeps with them, then makes off with their wallets
-Seeing her is a sign that a plague is coming
-----------------------
They head toward camp. The walk seems longer to get to the camp now that they were heading back toward people who likely were in authority over her. What would they decide concerning Indras?
At them leaping from the bushes, she makes a little scream as she jumps. Her thrush, who had decided to take a nap in her hood, flutters awake and up into the cover of a nearby tree.
"We are friendlies! We are friendlies! Scouts! Returning with word from ahead. What is the big deal?" she asks in an accusatory tone. He hates being held at crossbow point. All it takes is one slip of a finger and she gets skewered.
Brek thinks for a moment which isn't long.
"Nope. I don't really remember city names that well. Just go in and come out if there's nothing interesting to read or follow. Let us know if you need a fireball in someone's face or something. I could make a mistake." he grins.
Brek thinks for a moment which isn't long.
"Nope. I don't really remember city names that well. Just go in and come out if there's nothing interesting to read or follow. Let us know if you need a fireball in someone's face or something. I could make a mistake." he grins.
"Isn't it hard to live like that? It sounds... very lonely. What about your family? Your home town? If all you do is travel around and leave as soon as you come, do you still feel really connected to anything?"
Mosely doesn't participate in the circle of oohs and aahs about a vishkanya in the team's midst for the simple reason that he's spending most of the morning packing his tent and cooking gear and getting it all squared away for the lengthy journey, then shaving his sideburns and washing his face before stowing all of his gear to go.
"Hey, hey, scouting team returning from the canyon ahead," he shouts after Ohimè's exclamation to the crossbow-wielding guards. "We have information about the terrain ahead and we're not here for another fight."
Brek considers the question.
"I had no home to speak off other then an orphanage where I grew up. I spent most of my time with an old hermit on the hill behind the orphanage since he had the biggest library in the town. He had 10 books!! A magnificent treasure! And his animal friends, the whole forest was his friend it seemed."
Brek smiles as he thinks about it.
"Our town is mostly abandoned and so there are all kinds of people including those who taught us the ways of ermmm subterfuge and seduction to survive the big cities." he smiles as he remembers those lessons.
"My own magic though decided that we should travel and so I did. It has brought me through many places and sights to see."
The comment keeps her cheerful for the much more difficult question of Sorogar's.
"Honestly, when I was traveling, I felt more connected. I was with my group, like you all. They were accepting of me, rumors hadn't begun yet, and life was good. That all started when I stopped and settled down to be close to my father...um...adoptive father. Many vishkanya are like snakes. When old enough, they or their parents leave. I was cared for by a man very similar to our camp commander. He is a human man of authority in our city. For his sake I haven't left. I wanted to be close to him, but in recent years I haven't even been able to see him because of all of this nonsense. It's been really hurtful and hard for both of us. We communicate through letter though, or through my familiar. I have taught him to speak and understand common."
Brek offers to blast people in their face, showing a bit of kind-hearted defense of her honor. It warms her heart.
"I appreciate that, Brek," she will reply with a cute melodious laugh. He continues his story and she grins from behind the mask. As he finishes, she replies,"Until my father took me in, I actually was a bit of an orphan myself, so we have that in common. I know all about umm those sacrifices you have to make to your character to put food on the table..."
Being that the sun is up, she will nibble on a bit of rationed food herself and start to pack up her few things. It clearly takes her about 2 minutes to be fully packed. At times, her bird will find little bits of food she'd like and will bring it to her. The increased wildlife clearly has him excited. If there are berries at hand, the thrush will even attempt to find little snacks for the other members of the group.
-----------------------
"Mosley is always so calm and quiet. Direct. Militaristic almost. Look at me screaming like a little child..."
Because of his tough, direct words, she seems to strengthen from the ordeal.
Come with us then. The commander will want to hear what you have to say and will fill you in himself. Just know that right now we are considering the our bivouac under full marshal control. Nobody in or out without written or accompaniment of command personnel.
The group is lead to the central tent once again but it is almost unrecognizable. The sides have been split in many places, cinder and burn marks adorn the surrounding ground and chunks of ice still dangle on some of the more prominent gashes.
The commander is on a litter and in about as much disrepair as the tent.He is currently being overseen by several healers that seem worried as the administer to his soon to be scars.
Mutters of He should have killed it when he had the chance....It could have destroyed the whole camp....How many more of them are there still in camp?.....and so forth. These are coming from the command infrastructure and healers as they sort through the wreckage of the once fine tent.
Patrols march past even in the center of the camp. They are in large groups and everyone else is in smaller groups. Even the nonpatrol groups are armed and on alert.
In the center of it all, in a large cage sits the shapechanger. His face is split by a malicious grin showing feline canines and a feral delight.
I see the waywords come back..to late to be of use but maybe thats how they planned it. Makes one wonder...they have been missing or prominent in the attacks on this caravan. the voice purrs out its musing loud enough for all to hear. Several of the passing groups hear and give your group a wide and suspicious berth.
The commander attempts to sit up once he sees that it's his scouts returning. Report! Hopefully you have something good to add to this fiasco! He slumps back down worn in pain from the efforts this much has taken from him.