Completely understandable, I've been in that same situation myself. As long as you'll be keeping Runelords and Crimson Throne going, I won't tar and feather you for it. :P
Search Posts
Lysbeth frowns, speaking quietly to Mulluq. "If indeed there are more, as is likely, it may do us well to rest and recover our strength at some point. Anevia and Aravashnial are still weak, and may not fare well without Isilma's magic."
Lysbeth narrows her eyes as more mongrels come out from the woodwork, and fires her crossbow into the blue-scaled archer.
Lysbeth looks embarrassed, but grateful at Shirraj's words, an expression which rapidly changes to fear as Horgus approaches her. Before she can open her mouth to reply, however, Mulluq comes to her defense, and she smiles at him again. "See? You're far from evil, sweet Mulluq." she states cheerfully. Aravashnial's touch and statement seemed to put Lysbeth off for a second, as only a person with a disability whose disability is asked about can be, but she realised his good nature and smiled, letting him feel her teeth. "I file the fangs down," she says quietly, "And use makeup to hide the lack of colour in my face. It's deceptive, I know, but many are not as accepting as you have been. I'd be happy to tell you more about it sometime," she begins, "in the interests of a better understanding."
Lysbeth peers down the path of the arrow, trying to make out anything through the changing luminescence.
Welp, cat's out of the bag.
"I'm not concerned." She says, looking at him with a smile. "It may be that I should fear you, but I don't. It is a curiosity to me," she continues. "If one does not act evil, and does not have or acknowledge evil thoughts, is one then still a wicked creature?" "No," she interrupts herself. "Curiosity is the wrong word. It is in fact very important to me...Mulluq, in the short time we've known each other, you've shown yourself to be nothing less than honourable. You should know that. And soon we will be back to the surface, and I know not what will happen then, but you have become important to me." She laughs nervously. "I would say that I owe you an explanation for my prying questions, but I know you would not accept that I owed you anything." She smiles again, a mixed expression of kindness and concern on her face. "So instead, let me say that there is something I want to tell you, that I've never told anyone." She knows that the others are listening, but does her best to ignore them, and continues speaking as if it's to Mulluq alone. Taking a deep breath, uncertain of where to begin, Lysbeth suddenly bursts out, "My father was a vampire." She looks stunned for a second to have it hanging there in the air, and keeps talking. "I'm Dhampir. Only the monks who brought me up ever knew." "I've lived in Kenabres for more than 100 years." She explains. "I was raised in a temple, and spent the last Crusade tending to those few brave soldiers who returned, wounded. I may not have encountered true evil before, but I have seen it's effects. I hid, because I was afraid. But now that I have seen you, and your strength, your determination to do good, I know that I cannot ever go back to that." "I know," she pauses, looking at him cautiously with her large eyes, "I know that you might feel it is your duty to kill me. But I have never felt the urge to do wicked things, and I am confident that you have not either. Whatever our parents sins, I do not believe that you are any more evil than I. And, I don't know. I wanted you to know."
The death of the creature stays with Lysbeth as they walk back to towards town, and she is quiet through dinner as she contemplates its fate. The way it had fooled them was so terribly wicked, and it had really seemed to enjoy it. She realises, not for the first time, how little she really knew of life outside the temple. In the morning, she thanks the Chief warmly for his hospitality, and promises to tell of their subterranean plight upon reaching the surface. Following the others as they leave town, she thinks still more of the demons in the darkness. Staring ahead at Mulluq, she realises how easily she trusts him, despite his own appearance. Here was a man who clearly looked a demon, but viewed himself as base for it, and that it was his duty to kill other demons. Her own ancestry had never manifested beyond appearance, and that was easy for her to disguise, but for Mulluq, it was always going to be a part of who he was. And perhaps it was even more difficult for him than it had been for her, perhaps it was more than just looks. As they are walking an urge overtakes her and she approaches him quietly. "May I ask you something?" She begins. "I do not wish to be rude, but I must know. Do you.. do you get the urge to be wicked? The creature, you see, when it bit you, it looked... I mean... It seemed to really enjoy it." She pauses only long enough to take a breath. "I simply mean, your ancestry, I didn't know if it impacts more than your appearance." She turns a deep shade of red, certain that she's making herself look like a fool. "I-I'm sorry."
Ahh yes that does very much change things. Despite being in our late 20's and having gamed for a number of years, my FtF games tend to involve everyone being Chaotic-Neutral/Evil psychopaths. I came online largely for scheduling reasons (though I'm also better in text than speaking), and I prefer this format so very much more. I just started playing Shadowrun with an FtF group, which is the first time in over a year that I've done that kind of gaming (I still play board games with my friends roughly four times a month), and I'm already finding so many ways in which it pales compared to the online style.
I've generally found the opposite - In my experience, people get far less into their characters in FtF games. I don't think you're being a spotlight hog at all (in either game). Apologies for my absence of late, I have been rather ill (once again).
It is only as the creature's teeth sink into Mulluq that Lysbeth realises their folly. While she and the paladin were proof that not all those touched by darkness were evil, she realises that many of them were, and that they would not be either fair or forgiving. "The damned shall return to the plane of the wicked. For this world is Hers and will be kept." Lysbeth's eyes take on a red fury, and as she continues the prayer, her voice dropping low, she fires her crossbow at the creature.
The creature's whimpers as it cowers before Mulluq tug at Lysbeth's heartstrings, but she reminds herself that it is a demon, after all. It crosses her mind that she's not so different, but and she tries to down that voice out with her continued prayers.
Lysbeth raises her hands to her ears, nearly dropping her crossbow as she does so. As the roar dies down, she speaks a prayer to her allies without taking her eyes off the beast. "And She shall come to sow seeds of justice among the hearts of men. And the unworthy and the low shall all know order. For they are only wild beasts, capable of being broken and tamed, while Her glory strengthens our cores."
Lysbeth's dark eyes peer into the darkness, attempting to search out the source of the sound. Taking a deep breath, she raises her crossbow, forcing herself to hold it steady.
Lysbeth nods at the newcomers, including the small dinosaur. "Killian. Shirraj. Sinjin." She smiles, "It is a pleasure to meet more acquaintances of Isilma's. I am Lysbeth."
She shakes her head at Mulluq's description. "It sounds unlike any creature I've heard of before. Still," she continues, nodding in agreement with Killian. "My heart goes out to these people. I will gladly help in any way I can. This beast, do you know of any weaknesses?"
Try as she might, Lysbeth is unable to pull herself away from the burial site, and remains long after Mulluq, longer after the others had all gone away. She wonders how many had perished in fighting against the darkness, and how many more were to follow. The uncertainty of what was happening on the surface had long ago begun to eat at her. Whatever may have happened, the one thing that she could be certain of was that the life she had known was gone forever. An overwhelming feeling came over here that she needed to be more than she had ever been before, and not in a week, not in a day, but right now, at this very minute. A song that she had heard Brother Magnus sing comes to her mind, and she hums several bars before remembering the words. She sings it softly in Celestial, saying goodbye not to the brave adventurers that had died some time ago, but to herself, and her old life. "Gib deine Hand, du schön und zart Gebild!
When the song ends, she kneels before the burial sites, picking up a small handful of earth and letting it run through her fingers. When she stands again, her eyes are dry, and filled with a new resolve.
Good to see you again Threeshades, maybe we'll get to fight each other after all. :P
Welcome aboard Killian! Other than those things, very easily fixed, I like the change. Good job, and I hope you're happier with your character. Whoops! Adjusted all those things. Cheers! And yeah, I'm hopeful that it'll be better. :)
Annnnnd done. I left the old crunch spoilered in the profile in case you wanted to do any comparisons.
Dien was just recently accepted into a WoTR game, and so declined the invite Oh that's a shame. I actually have a friend who has been dying to play this if you do want a fifth person. Also, I have Lysbeth almost entirely rebuilt - I did decide to go with Bard. I'll have her posted up today. I'm excited for this.
I'm surprised that you haven't gotten Dien into any of your other games. She's just fantastic. And thanks so much guys. I'll see about getting Lysbeth restated tomorrow, as I'm still up in the air about which of the two I'll go with.
To be fair, I'm not the biggest fan of the class in the whole world either. It may well be that that's it. Would you guys be okay with me rebuilding her (mechanically) as something else? Bard is my typical "Go to" but Cleric could also work.
I highly doubt it's your fault. It's not like it hasn't been engaging. It's probably some combination of finding her bland and not really loving the Oracle as a class. Let me think on it a bit, though.
Admittedly I've been having a lot of trouble getting into this game and I'm not sure why. It might be as simple as not finding my own character very interesting.
Lysbeth quietly helps Mulluq prepare the bodies, interested in his explanations, but far more interested in his methods. It was surprising, and a little humbling, to see how gracefully he moved, and how gently his enormous hands treated the deceased. He put more care into what he was doing than she'd ever seen from anyone. During the last crusade, there had been so many bodies, there was scarcely time to treat them with any degree of reverence. But she understood now how important it was. As they stand up from praying, she touches his arm. "Thank you." she says, quietly, tears hanging lightly on her eyelashes.
Lysbeth's eyes widen as the chief explains where the mongrels came from, and her stance changes to one displaying much more respect than simple politeness and gratitude. "It is only by the strength of your ancestors that any of us are even alive to be speaking to here." The stories she had heard of those that lived underground were scarce in quantity or description, and now, learning that there was a battle going on underground that mirrored the one on the surface, she felt a certain closeness to these people. 'We are all fighting the same war.' she thought, and before she knew what she was thinking, she spoke again. "Perhaps we can aid your plight against the tribe?"
Lysbeth is impressed by Mulluq's single-mindedness, and looks at him curiously. "I would like to accompany you, if you wouldn't mind. I've spoken for the... recently deceased on a few occasions before." She looks around the cavern, looking pleased, before nodding to Lann with a smile. "It is truly lovely here. Your assistance and hospitality shall not be forgotten."
Level Up:
HD: 5 (1d8) + 2 Con = 7 to a total of 18. BAB: +1 to a total of +1. Saves: +0 Fort, +0 Ref, +1 Will. Spells: 1 Additional Level-0 Known (Resistance), 1 Additional Level-1 Spell Known from Mystery (Detect Undead), 1 Additional Level-1 Cast Per Day. Skills: 6 (4 Base +1 Int +1 Favored): +1 Disguise, +1 Diplomacy, +1 Perception. +1 Knowledge Religion (New Skill), +1 Knowledge History (New Skill), +1 Knowledge Nature (New Skill) I'll have my profile updated tonight (as well as a post!).
Lysbeth frowns at the scene, staring intently and suspiciously at the dead crusaders and spore-cougher. Her frown only deepens when Mulluq explains the symbol. She glances meaningfully at the group before replying, hesitantly. "If there are indeed demon worshippers nearby, it may be best not to delay." She bites her lip, remembering from her time in the temple, and her time with the dying, how important last rites are. At the look in Mulluq's eyes, she caves. "Perhaps we can do it quickly?"
The talk of demons and things being tainted by them makes Lysbeth uncomfortable, and she is quiet for much of the walk. Lann's interest in avoiding demons and finding himself with Mulluq might have made her laugh in different circumstances, but she was willing to bet that the partially undead weren't exactly on the list of people he wanted to be around. "What do they say the spore cougher does?" She inquires to Lann, her wavering voice breaking through the silence like a sweet melody. "Aside from cough spores, of course. I'm afraid I hadn't the time to study botany during the last Crusade."
Lysbeth nods at Isilma's plan, once again surprised to find how knowledgeable and intelligent the girl is for how young she looks. Lysbeth can't help but agree with the plan, though some part of it nags at her. Since she can't put it into words, she simply says, "Take the wounded, first.", and bites her lip, worrying how things are going on the surface.
Lysbeth stands tensed some feet away, uncertain that these men aren't looking to kill them like the last were. Knowing that Mulluq will want to assist the others, and also trusting him to watch over Isilma, she nods to him that he should go and help too. Standing behind with the wounded, Lysbeth says a short prayer asking that the gods help them return home safely.
Lysbeth stands frozen, waiting for her heart rate to slow back towards normal. When it finally did, she walked slowly over to the corpse of the Dwarf. "What makes them act like that?" She muttered. "So many of us have come so close to such darkness and evil, but turned away rather than embrace it." She shuddered, thinking how the Wizard would have easily killed all of them, and for nothing. Without raising her eyes, she asked another question. "How do we fight such rampant violence and lust for chaos?"
Lysbeth's eyes blaze as she fires a bolt off from her crossbow, which goes nowhere near the Dwarf.
Lysbeth peers into the darkness, searching for the source of the voice. "Sir, please. I can assure you that we mean no harm. We certainly shan't force you to come with us." She takes a deep breath and bites her lip, hoping that being honest is the right course of action. "We have wounded. We... were in something of a cave-in, and are just trying to get home."
Yes, hello, sorry. The past few days have been rather unpleasant, but I ought to be around more going forward.
While at first the tales of the others were enchanting to her, as the minutes wore on, Lysbeth began to realise that it was only a matter of time before she, too, would be called on to tell a story. Fear of not knowing what to speak of got the best of her, and she stopped even being able to pay attention to what the others were saying. Eventually she just got up and muttered that she should check on the others, before very quickly departing the scene. As Cruroar and Mulluq cleanse the temple, with no need of any help from her, Lysbeth sits down on a bench, looking around and noting how similar, and yet completely different, it was to where she grew up. She wondered how the Monks were fairing with the chaos above, and hoped that Brother Magnus was alright. 'I'll be back soon.' she promised, knowing that no one could hear it. She tries not to cry, knowing how much it will smear her makeup, and still not feeling that she can completely trust the others. They are too different, and it is a time of great fear and uncertainty. She shook her head as she followed the others out of the Shrine, wondering if she would ever be able to tell anyone. Returning to the others, Lysbeth's face was a mask of resolve. She nodded agreement to Isilma, announcing "We should be off", before moving towards Anevia to help her walk.
Lysbeth's eyes are still wide as the creature turns to dust. "What was that?" she asked, her voice shaking, wondering if she was really up to the task of joining the Crusade. She had seen the aftereffects of such attacks before, but never had she imagined that the creatures could be so frightening.
Shaking her head at Cruroar's question about the vials, Lysbeth put her crossbow back on her back and peered around the room with a new sense of wary.
But she finds herself unable to focus, imagining that there are evil things hiding in every shadow, waiting for a chance to spring out and catch them unaware. "M-Maybe we should leave." She said quietly, her eyes darting back and forth.
Lysbeth lets out a small yell of surprise as she jumps backwards, taken aback by the creature's appearance. Arms shaking, she lets fly a bolt from her crossbow at the undead nightmare.
Oh, s#&&, my mistake.
The building looks ancient to Lysbeth, but she can't be sure how long it has been standing or even why it was here. She turns to Croroar, asking "Any chance there's anyone left inside? And would they receive us well?"
Lysbeth's heart breaks at Mulluq's self-deprecation. She realised for the first time how lucky she was to have the monks raise her, and how differently things could have gone. They had been understanding, and had explained to her over and over that it wasn't anything she had done wrong, and that the gods would judge her only for her own actions, not those of her parents. 'I must remember to thank them.' She thought. 'If we ever get out of here.' With a shiver she looked towards Mulluq, trying to study his features despite how frightening they were. She decided, too, that she might try to talk to him some day, and share her own experiences. Some day when it was safe. She pulled her hood slightly lower on her face, and, helping Anevia, moved after the others, wrinkling her nose at the thought of sifting through the garbage.
Lysbeth's eyes dart back and fort between Mulluq and Cruroar, and a pit forms in her stomach, as she can't decide what to do. She knows that ones outward appearance does not speak towards their inner being, but she's worried that standing up for him will implicate her. 'Everyone will know.' she thought with sadness, 'and it will all have been for nothing.' She decides to remain silent. When Isilma speaks up, though, Lysbeth feels herself fill with shame. 'The young girl has no trouble standing up for what she believes, why do I?' But she knows the answer to that. She remembers the demon hunts of the last dozens of years, the people slaughtered on suspicion, all while she hid. She wouldn't let another innocent die. She couldn't. Turning on the charm, she smiled and turned to face Cruroar. "Sir Dwarf," she began. "Surely a man of your intellect knows that one can have demonic heritage without themselves being demonic. Everything we've heard Mulluq say has been of penance and promises of protection. I highly doubt that Terendelev's last action in life would have been to trap us in a cave with a traitor, and you yourself read no evil from him. Even now he has hacked up the large insects while the rest of us are wounded or inadequate."
Lysbeth is actually relieved that it's only large insects, her mind is still reeling of the possible catastrophes going on up on the surface. She locks eyes with Anevia, wondering with Terendelev gone, who would protect any of them? 'Have to get them to safety, and then help the others.' she ordered herself. 'Plenty of time for fear and worry later.' Carefully she transferred Anevia's grip from her to the cave wall, allowing her to walk closer to the roaches, loading a bolt into her own crossbow, and trying to stop her legs from quaking. Whether through fear, or lack of practise, the bolt doesn't even come close to hitting the creatures.
Lysbeth is pleased to have the groups disagreement resolve itself without her having to say anything. 'There is too much at work without fighting among us.' She thinks, supporting Anevia as the group moves forward. The knowledge that these tunnels already existed fills Lysbeth with apprehension. There was no telling what might lie in wait down here, and with so many already wounded... Her heartbeat echoes through her chest as she walks, and she wonders if Anevia can hear it, as she carefully wipes sweat from her forehead, trying not to smear her makeup.
Lysbeth gazes sadly at the scales before picking one up herself and examining it. 'Such a beautiful creature' she thought, 'And such a tragedy what has happened.'
Lysbeth frowns. "I'm afraid your leg is more broken than I had thought. We'll need to get you up above before I can care for it properly." She looks to Mulluq. "I can help her if you wouldn't mind terribly trying to lead the way?" Noting that Isilma is helping the recently-blinded man, Lysbeth feels confident that the two of them can assist the more civilian members of the group, so long as the Dwarf and Demon-Spawn are as capable as they look. Despite her heart hammering in her chest, she forces a smile at Isilma. 'We can do this.' she chants to herself over and over, hoping that after enough times she might start to believe it.
"Let's see if I can do something more with that leg." Lysbeth offers, approaching Anevia. Before crouching down, she happens to catch a glimpse of Mulluq and she freezes, her heart racing. Convincing herself to calm down, she suddenly feels overwhelming pity for him. Despite her own heritage, she had often been able to hide in plain sight. But him. She shook her head. There wasn't enough makeup in the world for that.
I like it quite a bit. |