Having seen the 'insect' tracks, Tribim isn't surprised to find bugs, but he still doesn't like the idea of getting closer. Realizing Mahmoud had thrown a knife, he decides the juggler had the right idea. "good idea." Drawing a chakram, he throws it at the same bug Mahmoud had thrown at.
Epperson moves past his colleagues into the room, targeting the left creature with both his weapon and his tongue.
the dwarf manages as his flail swings down.
Unatti blasts the same bug her companions have attacked, calling on her goddess to fuel her power.
Mahmoud and Unatti land hits on the spider-like creature, and Epperson curses it with inactivity. The second bug is quick to respond, however, attacking the dwarf with surprisingly sharp claws.
New Round
Mahmoud catches his blade as it bounces back and quickly tosses it again.
Stepping aside as the dwarf runs forwards with his flail blowing raspberries, Tribim flinches as the dwarf gets clawed for his effort. Keeping back he draws another chakram and throws it at the right hand bug, hoping the dwarf doesn't move too far to the right.
Seeing one of the bugs strike Epperson, she calls once more upon the gifts of her goddess to close his wounds.
Although Mahmoud and Tribim's attacks fail to connect with their target, Unatti heals Epperson. It's just in time, as the insect continues to attack the dwarf.
"Ow," Epperson manages as he's raked by the camel spider.
"Ow again - STOP THAT. Epperson targets the foe attacking him with a well-placed raspberry before a burst of black feathers appears behind the solifugid - Fanny has entered the fray!
"You must know that this is all pointless," Epperson remarks, though if to the camel spiders, Fanny, himself, or the 4th wall, it's unclear for whom his comments are meant.
Uncomfortable with how close the bugs are to the altar and each other, Tribim draws another chakram and tosses it at the bug on the right. "Epperson, step back, maybe I can get around them."
Having started to talk before the threw his weapon, his finger hooked on the rim and the chakram bounced off the wall just over Epperson's head. Flinching he called out, "Oops sorry Epperson!"
Mahmoud keeps his dagger flowing in a smooth motion, tossing and catching.
*Splat!* Epperson finally lands a hit on one of the insects as Mahmoud's dagger skewers the other. The sole remaining critter doesn't move; the dwarf's curse is wreaking havoc.
New Round
Right: 10pts damage; cursed
Mahmoud catches his dagger with a slight flourish and then throws it at the other.
With a final throw, Mahmoud dispatches the other insect, leaving the room free of danger.
”Hmph,” Epperson mutters, prodding the two camel spiders with his boot, ”I should look into some healing potions.”
He looks at Mahmoud. ”If it matters to you if I stick around, that is. It doesn’t matter, really.”
"Rise." Said a second voice, that of her father. In one fluid motion Aerith rose to her feet and looked straight ahead at elves before her. "Today, you are an adult." Her mother said, her voice sounded like cracks appearing on ice. All of them had the marks of the dragon upon them, which were not hidden by spell or misdirection. "And you shall leave." She commanded. "Return when you are ready to prove yourself worthy of your blood and your name." She rose and walked towards her daughter, each step silent and graceful. She put her hands on Aerith's shoulders, leaned in and gave a cold kiss on her cheek. "I trust that you will not come home in shame." She said, her voice devoid of warmth. "I will not fail." Aerith said, the first words she had spoken that day, and the last ones that she had said to her family.
-----
She stood before the tomb. The Five Shadows had already gone in, and Aerith was certain that they had faced danger aplenty. The sun shone down upon her, warming her neck. She was not used to being outside for such a length of time, and her backpack weighed heavily upon her. She was dressed for the heat, and for the adventure to come. It made her feel like a servant. A mix of emotions swelled inside of her. On one hand, she felt anxiety swirl within her. For so many years she had toiled and studied, shouldering the expectations of her family which weighed more than any collection of adventuring gear. She was about to enter a cursed tomb and would need to march up to a group of trained killers and tell another mage that he had to leave. The very idea of it filled her with dread. She was certain that they would take one look at her and would think that she was a fraud. A spoiled girl from a rich family that would get them all killed with her inexperience. Part of her wanted to run away, to head back into Wati and to vanish into the many streets and alleys. To flee from her family, and from the group of heroes who would certainly see right through her. But at the same time she was excited. She was more free at that moment than she had been in her entire life. There were no tutors. There was no training. There was no damnable schedule, demanding that she fill her head with every bit of knowledge possible. And her family! They were not there. She would, for the first time in her life, be able to choose when she slept, when she woke, what she said and what she would do. She would even be able to choose what she would eat! Not that there would be many choices in a tomb, but the idea was exciting none the less. For a moment that felt like an eternity she stood there, unable to move forward or back. Then, with an effort of will, the young elf took a step forward, which turned into another, and then another, until the darkness consumed her.
Quietly she moved forward, her eyes drawn to the stone doors. She looked at the image of the warrior in padded armor with the scarab shaped shield. Stopping for a moment to examine it, she almost yelped when she finally saw the crumpled humanoid body in front of it. She stared at it, seeing death for the first time. Terror gripped her heart. Would this be her? What had happened to the man? Slowly she inched towards it and gave it a small poke, noticing the broken legs. It did not move, but decay hung in the air.
Further and further, she walked in, through the Chariot Chamber, the Hall of Judgement, and the Trophy Room. Finally, she reached the Mirror Chamber. It was not hard, given that she was following the sounds of combat. That, and a strange sound which went like '”THHBBBBBT!” She had never heard the like before, and wondered if it was from some monster native to the tomb. Finally, she found The Five Shadows, standing over the body of a large spider. She caught her breath in awe of them. These were adventurers! The Catfolk immediately caught her eye. He was gorgeous, in an otherworldly, and very inhuman, kind of way. She had never seen a catfolk before, but the rogue reminded her of the statues back at her estate. But the human warrior, Mahmoud? His hair was long and unkept and he was muscled. He looked like how she would imagine a thug or a bandit. No part of her wanted to approach the man. And the Witch? She looked to Aerith like many such wise women of the temples with the way she held herself. Of the dwarf, from a distance he looked normal enough. Well, as normal as a dwarf could look, for she had never seen such a creature before. The warning of his curses rang in her ears. Of them all, the only one that did not seem intimidating was the Elf. For that she was used to. He was a low born mage, and she knew that she could handle that. More than enough of those had paid tribute to her elders. She took a deep breath and gathered herself. I am strong. I am powerful. I am a wizard. I am strong. I am powerful. I am a wizard. She told herself. With one more breath, she stood up straight, and said a spell, and vanished.
”Hmph,” Epperson mutters, prodding the two camel spiders with his boot, ”I should look into some healing potions.”
He looks at Mahmoud. ”If it matters to you if I stick around, that is. It doesn’t matter, really.”
As Epperson finished speaking, the air behind him shimmered and an elf stepped out. She was, in no way, an imposing sight. If anything, she was short and thin, with a backpack that was too big for her. Her hair was white, and there was a purple-tinge to her skin. Still, she stood with all of the social grace of someone who had spent a lifetime having it drilled into her. She had a sealed scroll in her right hand. Looking right at the elven mage in the group:
"Xynlthras." She said, her voice as regal as she could manage. "This missive is from Magister Thraakth, recalling you to the Eastern Front Academy." Forcing herself to move naturally, she extended her hand and the sealed scroll within it. "I have been informed that the matter of is of immediate concern." She then looked at the rest of the group, focusing on Tribim, as he seemed the least intimidating among them. "As Xynlthras is urgently needed elsewhere, I have been tasked with standing in his stead, as the Fifth Shadow." Hoping that her introduction was going well, she finished "I am Aerith, of House Lithanel. Wizard, and specialist of the Aether element. At your service." She gave a small bow of her head, to finish the greeting.
Epperson looks over his shoulder at the recently-appeared elf, cocking an eyebrow.
”Academy, eh? Education is important - well, if anything is.”
A beat passes.
”This is awkward…”
Mahmoud's eyes widen slightly, and he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again. (For him, this is akin to gasping in shock.) Finally, he clears his throat. "Well," he says laconically. He turns as if to say something to Xynlthras, but the other wizard is already fading away. He shrugs as if to say "Welcome, then," and walks back over to the entry, where he takes up a lookout stance to make sure they aren't joined by more of these bugs while the others examine the room.
Seeing Epperson's wound, Tribim nods in agreement, "Yeah, you should get that looked at."
As he moves into the room to pick up his chakrams, he turns hearing someone speaking to their wizard. Raising an eyebrow, he looks from the one elf to the other. Realizing the woman was looking directly at him figited a little as he returned his chakrams to their pouch. Watching as Xynlthras starts to leave, he nods in agreement with Epperson, it was a little awkward. Realizing the Elf was still looking at him and not sure what else to say, he nods and gives his best smile. "Welcome to the five of shadows Aerith." He looks from the short elf to the dwarf, "You wouldn't happen to have potion for healing, would you?"
As the conversation continues, he begins to search the room the bugs were in for anything of value.
With the final bug slain, Unatti fixes Epperson with a critical eye. "Perhaps if you stopped sticking your tongue out at them, they wouldn't be so prone to attacking you. And thus wasting my healing."
Realizing that she was staring, the elf looked away, only to see how awkward the situation was. Especially as the other elf vanished. It left them just…standing there. She cleared her throat and shifted uneasily. ”Uhm…yes. Well. I’m sorry, I don’t have any potions.” She felt a rush of embarrassment, as she wondered if she was supposed to have some. Did she already make such a mistake? Realizing that she wasn’t even armed, she reached out and her hand vanished into a small extra dimensional pocket. She pulled out a dagger and looked back at the group. ”I, well, I’m happy to be here?” She said, with some uncertainty. ”That is, we can move to on, if we are done here.” She hadn’t known what to expect with her entrance. But the other elf leaving so suddenly and so quietly? The awkward of it all? It made her want to just run away. The idea of pushing further into danger, such as the horrific spiders that lay dead at their feet, didn’t seem so bad anymore.
"I don't mind the raspberries," Mahmoud objects from the doorway, leaping to Epperson's defense despite his taciturn nature. "They are very effective. Though, I grant you, not as effective as your magic."
While Tribim searches the room, Mahmoud catches his breath.
Tribim doesn't find anything of value in this room.
Not finding anything of value, Tribim kicks one of the bugs as he exits the room. As he moves to the next set of double doors, he asks Aerith "So "specialist of the Aether element" um, what does that mean?"
As he asks, he kneels in front of the doors, listening intently as he checks for traps.
Aerith perked up as the catfolk spoke to her. It had been so long since she had been able to speak freely to someone else as a peer. She smiled as the subject of her passion came up. ”Aether.” She said happily. ”Is…oh, how to put it? Well, there are the elemental planes, fire, water, etcetera. And our material plane, and the like. Well, Aether is an elemental energy that builds up between planes. We call it the Ethereal Plane. It is a transitive plane, obviously.” She said with a genuine smile. ”It overlaps all of the inner planes of the Great Beyond! Mages such as myself specialize in using this element. We teleport, as you saw earlier. I can send myself, or someone else, a small distance at the moment. The Ethereal Plane is not empty. There are dangerous predators within. How far a mage can teleport is indicative as how well they can avoid such dangers.” She said as they walked. ”I have been learning to use it to store times, though I can only hold a few daggers. And, for telekinesis.” She said, letting go of the dagger in her hand. It floated in the air, matching pace with them as they walked. ”So while another mage, such as a universalist, may throw around a fireball or create a cloud of poison gas, I manipulate Aether to lift and control objects.” She finished, unaware of whether or not she was talking too much.
”And you are Tribim? Before being sent I was told you were of the temple of Bastet. Is it true that you are a servant of the The Golden Cat? What did you do for the temple?” She asked, her voice inquisitive. She was truly enjoying the feeling of being allowed to speak freely. It was intoxicating enough to make her completely forget about decorum.
Listening to Airith's explanation, Tribim vaguely knew there were different planes, apparently, she was really good using the wone called Ethereal. As she continues, he nods mentally comparing it to his own experiences. As a dancer he knew several styles of dance; whether performing alone, or performing with a group, or dancing with an individual, or dancing in a line. That's how it was with most of the courtesans, there was one girl, a Catfolk from Katapesh named Delilah, she did a dance called the 'belly dance' it was the only dance she knew. But the 'worshipers' loved her, and she earned the temple a lot of money.
Nodding, when she asked if he was 'Tribim' he couldn't remember if he'd introduced himself or not. When she adds she'd been told about him before he was sent, he turns from the doors he was inspecting, raising an eyebrow. Holding his question for later he answers, "I was part of the entertainment, mostly a dancer and occasionally a courtesan." Considering the other part of the question, "Ages ago my family were servants of Bastet, and guardians of her temple. I look a lot like they did, so the temple hired me to dance." He shrugs a little, he believed in Bastet, but wasn't sure if that exactly counted as servitude, so he asks, looking from the elf, to Unatti, then back again. "Does that make me her servant?"
Wanting to change the conversation he adds, as he turns back towards the doors, "You remind me of my friend Delilah, she's a specialist too."
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Aerith's smile froze as she tried to politely keep it on her face. A courtesan? That was certainly not something that she had been briefed on. She wondered, then whether Tribim was a man or a woman. Her knowledge on the physiology of catfolk was certainly lacking, and she had no idea how to politely ask. She almost asked if this 'Delilah' was a courtesan as well, and how she reminded Tribim of her, but she was afraid to ask. Suddenly very aware of everything, from her own breathing to each step she took, she tried desperately to think about what she could say in return, and failing that, settled on trying not to blush.
"When I accepted the task of filling in for Xynlthras, I was told the basics about the, uhm, Five Shadows. Merely that friend Tribim and Lady Unatti came from the Temple of Baset, and that Mahmoud from the Temple of Pharasma. Given that it seems we are going to fight together, I would appreciate to know more about my fellow shadows. And...I am afraid that I wasn't told anything about Mr. Epperson." Trying her best to keep the mood light, she looked to the dwarf and said "Are you connected to any of the temples? Or are you a dancer and a courtesan as well?"
Mahmoud smirks tolerantly at Aerith's questions as he follows Tribim to the next door. He quirks an eyebrow at Epperson, curious how the dwarf will answer the elf. Not an unreasonable assumption, he thinks ruefully. "By a strange twist of fate, I too am a dancer," he injects into the conversation. "I used to be part of a performing troupe that had some very lucrative side projects, and though there was some courtesan-ing involved, I never got into that line of work myself. But they stabbed me in the back, so I threw in with the Lady of Graves instead. Perhaps it was always meant to be thus." After this unusual (for him) amount of talking, he quiets down again.
A flight of steps gradually descends to the west down this passage. Halfway down the stairs, small holes and burrowed tunnels riddle what remains of the passage's southern wall. Earth and sand have spilled over the collapsed masonry, covering the stairs with dirt and rubble. Stone doors engraved with a golden scarab, its wings open beneath a golden sun, stand at either end of the stairs. One of the eastern doors is slightly ajar.
”Are you connected to any of the temples? Or are you a dancer and a courtesan as well?"
Epperson makes little eye contact as he replies tersely. ”I prostitute myself for no one and everyone - it matters little who pays for me. We all will pay when it’s all over.”
He then turns to look at Aerith. ”I am Epperson, son of Epper. I’m a curse-eater and a faithful of Groetus. I likely seem clownish in this dance troupe.” He shrugs. ”It doesn’t matter. I am here for an explicit purpose. The piwakawaka is known as Fanny; you may see her fluttering about. Tell me if she annoys you; I can’t DO anything about it, but I’ll at least be aware, for what good that does you.”
”It’s nice to meet you.” The last is delivered sotto voce, almost indecipherable as the dwarf turns away to follow the remainder of the party’s lead. Epperson takes an interest the holes in the stone.
"I am Unatti, witch priest of Bastet. Though, it would appear you already knew that." She says with a faint smile.
She listens quietly as the other mage explains her expertise. "Those sound like very useful abilities. Most of mine lean towards healing and protection, though I can call up my goddess to attack my foes from afar."
"Hmm. Delilah, Delilah. Wasn't there a song about her? I don't believe she's the same sort of specialist as Aerith is. Her talents are a bit more, uh, spicy." She says with a light laugh.
"N-nice to meet you as well." She replied to Epperson. She almost asked him what his first name was, but in doing so she nearly extended her hand. Not knowing whether this could pass his curses along, she decided to watch and wait to better understand his powers first. There was no point recklessly exposing herself. She turned to Unatti, listening as the priestess spoke. "Ah." She said, her mood brightening. "Our talents will compliment each other. As for this Delilah, I am afraid that I don't know anything about cooking, but I will take the comparison as a compliment."
She looked up at the stone doors that were slightly ajar. "It would appear that those doors are already open to us." She observed. "Shall we explore there first?"
Nodding to mahmoud as the juggler draws near, Tribim turns, looking at Epperson, raising an eyebrow as the dwarf uses the 'P' word. Biting his tongue he turns and opens the door looking down the steps. Chuckling when Unatti calls Delilah 'spicy' he answers under his breath, "She certainly is that."
Responding to Aerith, "A pleasure as well." Realizing the elf had misunderstood the meaning of spicy he smiles, "Agreed we should explore beyond the stone doors." Nodding back the way they came, his smile widens. "Once we're done here, we can introduce you to Delilah if you'd like. My comparison was due to her singular talent in a style of dance. She is a specialist whereas I am a generalist."
Retuning his attention to the stairwell, he Points towards the sand, "It looks like something has burrowed through the walls, filling the stairs with sand. We probably should be careful." Keeping the ancient spear at the ready he slowly begins moving down the steps, keeping a keen eye out as he goes.
The holes appear to have been made by small burrowing creatures.
As soon as your foot touches the sand, it coalesces into a Large serpentine form that rears up to strike!
Surprise Round Over
You recognize this creature as a type of elemental known as a Sandling. Composed entirely of loose earth and sand, they're very resistant to hammers and other blunt forces. However, exposure to water hardens them, slowing them down temporarily.
Mahmoud springs into action, tossing his dagger at the sand creature!
You recognize this creature as a type of elemental known as a Sandling. Composed entirely of loose earth and sand, they're very resistant to hammers and other blunt forces. However, exposure to water hardens them, slowing them down temporarily.
”A sandling!” She exclaimed with excitement. ”My cousin used to summon those. They are practically immune to any blunt damage. But water gardens them. Not that I have that ready.” Right after Mahmoud sent his dagger, Aerith’s followed. It floated through the air, coming to a halt next to the elemental and then stabbing it as if though it were held.
”Be wary of some sort of——“ Epperson calls out just before the elemental assembles and attacks.
”———guardian,” he finishes.
The dwarf moves directly at the sandling, proven nothing if not consistent, trusting in the piercing qualities of his flail to result in the potential for damage.
Hearing water damaged the 'sandling' Tribim considers peeing on the thing for a moment Instead he drops the ancient spear he is carrying. Feinting with his right claw, he scratches at it with his left, then follows up with the right.
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While everyone except Epperson manages to strike the elemental, your attacks are much less effective than you'd like. The creature's form makes it almost impossible to find a vital organ, after all.
The sandling attempts to bite Mahmoud!
New Round
Epperson grunts.
”Well THAT was pointless….” The dwarf inexplicably laughs at his own comment. He then turns his head to Aerith.
”Wait, water? I can do water.” Epperson takes a step back from the fray and digs out a waterskin from his pack.
Epperson calls out. ”I hope it’s not true about cats and water, Tribim. You’re about to be in the splash zone!”
"If water works against them, perhaps somebody can hurl their waterskin at them?" The witch suggests aloud.
She once more fires a ray of divinely granted energy at the same sand creature Tribim attacked.
She clicks her tongue, annoyed when Mahmoud gets attacked. "Let's finish this quickly. I don't have much healing left."
She blasts the sandling again, hoping to do exactly what she said.
Mahmoud grunts and takes a step back before throwing the knife again.
Frowning when he realizes there was nothing to precisely damage, Tribim chuckles at Epperson's outburst. As he picks the ancient spear back up, remembering the last thing Epperson threw, answering, "Better water than fire my friend."
Gripping the spear in both hands he thrusts it at the sandy serpent. Missing entirely, he flinches, as he drives the spear into the wall.
Aerith caused the dagger to fly forth again, trying to put more strength into it. But fighting in an actual melee was far different than training, and the dagger merely slid through the sand.
Your attacks are much less effective this round as the sandling continues to attack.
New Round
”Incoming spray!” Epperson bellows out, squishing the waterskin pinned under his arm as a makeshift ranged weapon.
”Incoming spray!” Epperson bellows out, squishing the waterskin pinned under his arm as a makeshift ranged weapon.
”I’m not too good at this,” he admits, redirecting the spray from the wall.
"Really?" Screaming at the sand snake, Tribim jerks his spear tip from the crack in the wall. Paying better attention this time, he watches how the thing moves and tries to strike it again with the spear.