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![]() Just a Mort wrote:
I can work with this. You have a very solid start. The garlic, reflection, and crucifix bits can stay. Immunity to those things is a blessing, enjoy it. ![]()
![]() Berselius wrote:
Someone clearly has not been familiarized with an easily-constructed gentle repose item. Place it on a small item of your preference that easily attaches to clothing or directly on the body. A button, a brooch, a buckle, a scarf, a sash, an eyepatch, a headband, a choker, an earring, I could go on and on. Problem solved. Inexpensive to make, especially with the sheer amount of time an undead has to acquire funds, so if they are lost, stolen, or destroyed they are easily replaced. Any fears of destruction can be overcome easily with lateral thinking and proper contingencies prior. Simply don't allow your pride to consume you into believing you are invincible (as opposed to merely immortal) and make proper preparations. Have safehouses, backup plans, secure locations, and trustworthy underlings. This is the problem with paladins. They just don't know how to think outside the box. ![]()
![]() Session Thirty As the intruders continued their investigations deeper into my demesne, they found themselves presented with two distinct options - to ascend via stairways flanking the arena of their latest conflict, or to return to the residential chambers on the north end of the Great Hall and to descend via the hidden chamber into the catacombs below. After some debate they elected the latter, and after bypassing the wards and defenses placed to prevent intrusion they made their way into the deepest chamber of Maure, the Violet Hold. Here they found themselves greeted by blackness; though all of their number could pierce the veil of shadow by natural sight alone, they nevertheless called upon the light when the denizens of such darkness roused to repel their delve. A giant of the shadows and a handful of its lesser kin were swift to greet them, but were themselves slain and dispatched with little difficulty. No, what truly scoured their arrival was mine own exaltation: quick to greet them upon investigating the halls of the Hold was a vast tapestry I had acquired, depicting myself and my mentor overlooking the vastness of Maure in its glory. Irked with me for my elegance, Layla tore the tapestry from the wall, revealing the three symbols of death Vordakai had placed behind as a punishment to any who would tamper with the decor. Unfortunately she was not long in the grasp of the grave, for the Countess was swift to return her to life; in the meantime the magic of the symbols was momentarily dispatched, allowing the group to return the tapestry - irritably reversed - to its place and negate the threat of further harm. They chose to delve southward into the twisting halls of the Hold, and eventually came to a place where a great deal of water had leaked into the chamber floors; here the psychic clarion call of the thing which I held in stasis on this level reached out to the signs of unfamiliar minds. Two of their number, Layla and Derrick, saw an image of a strange violet stone atop a velvet-draped palanquin, and felt a mental tug leading them further south and east. Lured by its pull, they directed the rest of the group in that direction, winding through several rooms and halls to find the most adequate path to reach their new destination. Along the way they found themselves harassed by my defenders in the realm - bound creatures from the Astral, enspelled to do my bidding, and necromantic spirits of magic and steel to defend my treasures from would-be thieves or traitors. Alas, while they might have sufficed against more common interlopers, these four were, for the most part, beyond their ability, and the Iomrallan intruders carved a swathe of destruction through my underlings in their relentless pursuit of the treasure they had deemed their own. It was then that the first of my true children found these intruders and began the labor of dealing with them. From within a hidden sanctuary, the former huntsman once known as The Cinderlander harassed my wayward daughter and her compatriots with bolts fired from hidden compartments along the walls leading further into the compound. After several encounters with these sneak attacks, and finding the bolts laced with mummy dust as well as designed to deal all the greater harm to his prey, the group resolved all the more furiously to find and deal with the man. Their investigation eventually led them to find - and with the Countess’s engineering mastery and magical talent, destroy - the tunnels and murder-holes he had been using to attack them unseen, but The Cinderlander had wisely been all the quicker to escape by means they found themselves unable to track. With much reluctance from all but Derrick, who was unfamiliar with The Cinderlander’s prior insults and injuries to Layla and her companions’ objectives, pursuit of the bandit was abandoned to instead resume following the psychic impulses of the stone. A few more of my guardians - more ephemeral warriors and shadow creatures - assaulted them along the way, attempting to slow or halt their advance, to only minimal avail; likewise The Cinderlander, in his various methods of hiding, stalked them at a distance, awaiting the proper moment to strike. Eventually the psychic call lured them to one of the more distant chambers of the Violet Hold, and after discerning that the chamber itself was not warded or trapped and thus was safe to open, they found themselves gazing at long last upon the Purple Stone. Which, in turn, greeted the first living creatures of the Material that it had perceived in many, many mortal years. ![]()
![]() I would say that superficial resemblances would be deceiving, my dear Countess. Your father was an ambitious but small-minded man who did not understand the great benefits a family can truly provide. He strove to break others down to build himself up. I raise the fallen to stand beside me, and thusly lift each of us upon one another's shoulders. Can he claim to have done the same? ![]()
![]() Sessions Twenty-eight and Twenty-nine The halls of Maure Castle are grand and enormous, as if meant for creatures of greater size than their latest visitors. When the grand Unopenable Doors fell shut behind them, trapping my three guests within, they found themselves at the doorstep of a grand corridor, laden with ancient frescoes and tapestries depicting the histories and triumphs of the long-forgotten House Maure. As always, Layla was ever cautious, considering every etching and decor with suspicion, expecting any contour or embellishment to conceal a trigger or trap of harm intent. Nevertheless I had left no such wards remaining, nor had any of my children, and the way through to the Grand Hall was clear, save the last great door, which opened before the might of the serpentine samurai. Lacking direction, my guests inspected all possible paths before continuing into the Hall itself, drawn by the light of the glimmering chalice of many colors that stands at its center, on its isle amidst the glimmering pool. From there they continued north to the guests' chambers, examining them one by one, finding first the restored and elaborately equipped chambers then the ones that had been abandoned to little more than storage of refuse or emptied for the purposes of labor. At the last they found the secret passage in the eastmost chamber, which led them to the descending stairwell into the lower chambers of the castle. Abandoning this pursuit for the time, they made their way southward across the Grand Hall once more, this time bound for the array of rooms that mirrored the guests' chambers on the opposite side of the Hall, just north of the tapestry divide. They examined each in turn, moving east to west, measuring their contents and taking of them as spoil. Child, what need have you to steal? You know I will give unto you anything you desire, if only you will return to the home you have so long forgotten. Nevertheless, while I am eager to see my guests at last face to face, the many other denizens of my palace are less cordial toward visitors. The wraith Amphiptere that made its home in the stones of the Great Hall had been watching the three for some time, and while Layla and her highness Dragomir discussed the merits of one of my finest tapestries - a full and elaborate weaving of Evelynszira, lustful Lady of Countless Charms, in all her ungarbed glory - the draconic spirit swathed sir Takeshi in the embrace of its black flame. Their recovery was swift and decisive, however, and the creature was dissipated for the time being; in a matter of weeks it will reconstitute, but I believe by that time I shall have had my encounter with my dear wayward daughter and her accomplices and thus the need for further hostilities will have abated. Continuing their traversing, the three visitors made their way past the barricade of tapestries into the arena that adorns the southern half of the Great Hall. There they examined the pillars left by the scions of House Maure and the great coliseum seats that stood to the east and west. On the dais at the center of the south wall, there stood my latest and perhaps greatest creation - the reconstructed and greatly improved revivification of none other than the Stag Lord, first and perhaps most memorable of Iomrall's thorns in the flesh. Though only Lady Dragomir had actually encountered the infamous bandit prince, his nature and abilities were nevertheless familiar from secondhand account to both Layla and sir Takeshi, and thus they were prepared swiftly to deal with the elaborate abilities I had designed for this rematch with their famed rival. Alas, what I did not account for was the swift awakening of another intruder, who had been taken captive aforehand by another of my children and stored for later investigation and induction into my family in the chamber behind the Stag Lord's dais; during the battle he roused and emerged, lending his axe to the fray and strongly turning the tide against my most excellent construct and the array of necrotic ephemerals I had assigned to accompany him. Thus it came to be that the Stag Lord fell once more before the fury of steel, shot, and flame, once more defeated by the hand of these impeccable travelers. The stranger and my guests were swift to ascertain one another's purposes and intents; the additional visitor, a kin of the shadows currently wearing the name Derrick of Wrath, informed them of his purpose to seek one of my treasures to buy his freedom from the chains that bound him to his past, and assured them of no intent to mar their own hunts but a willingness to add his arm to their efforts against me. Introductions, such as they were, were exchanged, and the hunt resumed. I suppose this simplifies things; now they will travel together, coming into my presence, and I will welcome them all into my grand family as a whole. ![]()
![]() Chapter Four: Blood For Blood I am your poison candygram, the love that's meant to fade away -
Under the moon I hold a wake for a promise torn;
I read a book about a man, a love, a woman, how they died,
Open your blue eyes, tell me that you love me, whore!
Mother always said, “My son, do the noble thing;"
It won't be long now, love; like mist I slowly fill the room!
Open your blue eyes, tell me that you love me, whore!
Mother always said, “My son, do the noble thing;"
Strawberry blonde, your stranglehold on my heart is bound to end -
Short is the flight of this little starling.
We had it all so sweet - made for me, you, indeed;
The wounds are too deep; I need to keep the scars
Closing your eyes, don't ever say you love me, whore!
Mother always said, “My son, do the noble thing;"
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![]() Freehold DM wrote:
As do I. ![]()
![]() Cosmo wrote:
We must all begin somewhere, young horror. ![]()
![]() Apsu the Waybringer wrote:
*Whirlwind Attack - grab, spin, and tosses back up* |