Relio nods hesitantly, unconcerned about storms, but in no mood to deal with swarms of insects.
Search Posts
No worries, I should be starting college within the week, so I'll have to rearrange my habits a bit, but I hopefully I won't have to disappear for any length of time (internet at the dorms is not automatic; have to see how that plays out.)
I'm still here, though I admit my attention has waned slightly; I've been running through my active campaigns a little quicker each night, so I may be reflexively glossing over those that haven't had a post.
Relio'Than lowers his gaze as he absentmindedly searches his memories in reflex to the drider's question. "Sensations, mostly. I know I was laid as an egg by my broodmother, but I only vaguely know her voice or her scent. I barely remember leaving my egg, since it was torn open before my time; beyond that, only a blur of torment remains." The wyrmling's claws leave furrows in the stone as they slowly clench, as if his entire body speaks of his first memories.
"Indeed. I want out of this prison." The young dragon folds his wings and follows a few feet behind the medusa this time, scanning for exits and sniffing for edible scents.
Shrugging off the dizziness, Relio shudders as the last vile droplets spatter on the floor. "Ugh. That smell...it steals the senses, and plants urges in their stead. I will not be taken like that again." He growls, scowling at the closed door. With the webbing peeled away, he stretches his wings and digs at the last remnants of sticky threads with his claws and his teeth, shaking his head to clear it.
Yeah, sorry bout that. It's almost become second nature to see saves rolled by a GM, plus my attention and focus have been divided as of late; getting into college, apparently, takes just a wee bit more effort than filling out an application.
Relio squawks in surprise as the tangle of webs knocks him to the floor. "What are you doing?! That's our way out! We need to go through there!"
"Plants are outside. plants mean animals. food. freedom. There..."
At the mention of fear and desperation, Relio's senses go on alert; he does not register the warning of dangerous scents, as his nose has already received the odors from within.
The wyrmling cast his gaze to the side in contemplation, debating whether to share something as important as his name with such strange creatures. Name? Do I have a name? I recall nothing outside, and yet...I feel as if I should know... He inconspicuously eyes the others, coming up with no short and suitable ideas for names for them, and laughs to himself. Can't very well keep calling each other by our species forever, now can we? "Call me...Relio'Than. I feel as if it is incomplete, but it will do for now."
After stretching and shaking off the tension of the battle, Relio'Than follows, 'huffing' at the decaying odor of the hallway and moving his head about, searching the air for scents of more palatable matter...or fresh air. There must be some way out, as there is some way in...and if the exit is not near, then food must be...
As the medusa rifles through the beast's items, Relio's nose leads him closer. Sniffing about the body, he knows that it is edible, but something about it turns his stomach. the combination of chemicals, surgery, and a generally unnatural scent staves off his hunger. "How many more are mad with pain like him? Are we the only ones left with our minds?"
Even for an altruistic creature, a silver dragon is still a natural predator with limited patience. Relio's pity for the fiend is running out as it continues to hammer him. Growling as deep as his young voice will allow, he exhales a frigid burst of air and ice at the creature, causing signs of frostbite to appear in patches all over its skin.
A pang of guilt crosses the wyrmling's mind as he considers the fate of the crazed creature he new faces, but only for a brief moment. Were I crazed beyond reason, I would expect the same mercy. Your pain ends today. Relio renews his assault and concentrates his savagery on the beast's head to end its rampage...and its suffering.
Relio pauses for only a moment, beholding the anguish of the mutilated monster, and glancing at his own recently bound wings. "he is like us, but he is gone." Now resolute, the wyrmling leaps for the beast's exposed face, raking and snapping at eyes, ears, and neck as each is momentarily exposed.
"Stubborn prey." Noting the loose helmet, Relio bares his fangs at the persistent beast, leaping at its head. He rakes claws across its face and snaps at the helm, searching for weak points that might dislodge it.
He looses his grip, however, and the beast's thrashing throws him to the ground with a dull thud.
As the beast thrashes through the web, it tears a leg free...right into Relio's reach. He does not waste his moment.
His jaws finally find true purchase, ripping free a chunk of flesh and a torrent of blood from the vulnerable limb. As the monster finds what's left of its footing Relio drops the hunk of flesh in his jaws and assaults the beast with everything he has.
Relio isn't swayed by the creature's predicament; the wounds on his back are a reminder of the mindless brutality of this berserk beast. He lashes out at exposed flesh, hoping to either tear or crumble the partially petrified creature.
Relio grows annoyed with the creature's persistence and goes on the offensive, leaping at the creature with fangs and talons.
Relio growls and snarls the horn puncturing his hide, and quickly glances around at his comrades' position. Satisified his aim is true, he rears his head back, and exhales a blast of freezing air at the beast. ref 14 for half
Relio weaves around the creature's wild thrashing, and as it rears back from it's swing, he darts in, snapping for its thigh.
Screeching at the impact of a heavy blow on his back, Relio'Than snarls, coils his neck with teeth bared, and lunges for a vital organ in the creatures midsection.
Seeing the attacker halted in his tracks, Relio'Than's predatory instincts kick in, and he lunges at the disabled monster.
Seeing the threat in physical form seems to dispel much of the fear of an unknown enemy. Though still worried, Relio now knows, instinctively, that battle will be joined. Glancing around at his companions, he knew, even at his infantile state, that he would need to protect them. Uttering a shrill roar, he dashes past the others in the corridor, facing down the enemy and bracing himself, fangs bared.
At the mention of the murderer, Relio'Than's claws curl slightly; his tail twitches anxiously. "If it killed our captor, and our captor was powerful enough to hold all of us, I don't want to meet it."
Seeing the sphinx make a meal out of their captor reminded him how hungry Relio'Than was, but the smell of human meat was less than appetizing. Observing a wall open into a secret passageway brightened his eyes, however. Hopping off the table, he landed less gracefully than he had planned, and then snarled at the vices he had almost forgotten about. Tearing and biting at the clamps left them twisted and shredded, and once they were finally torn free, his wings snapped upwards to their full span, stretching fiercely for the heavens before furling back into a relaxed fold. The collar at his neck still perplexed and agitated him though, and try as he might, he could neither budge nor damage it. After an visible, audible 'huff' of frustration, he decided the best course was to follow the medusa out, at least for the time being. "I don't want to be here anymore. Let's find our way out." Hopefully whatever killed that man is gone...
Seeing the staff yanked from the body, the wyrmling recoils at the multilimbed creature hiding in the shadows of the chamber. So many legs... "Were you...bound here?" He inquires, hopping off the slab. glancing back and forth to his two neighbors, he cautiously approaches the corpse, examining it for signs of what killed it. "Who did this?"
An almost warbling growl issues forth from the wyrmling's throat as he slowly fights off the soreness and fatigue. His head wobbles at the end of his weary neck, shaking off sleep and dull aches alike. Realizing that he is not bound, the surprised hatchling slowly pushes himself to his feet, his weary muscles collapsing once under his weight before steadying. Trying to stretch his wings proves to be more challenging, however, and he snarls at the vices clamping the limbs closed, gnawing at them in an effort to loosen or break them. As he tears at the bindings, a scent catches his nose, and the odor of blood draws his eyes toward the source, his eyes widening at the body of his captor, mutilated beyond recognition At the clattering metal sound across the dim room, his head snaps around to the source, eyes transfixed on the metal mask as it bounced to a stop. He remains silent as the scaly form of a humanoid moves to the body and kicks it with vehemence. The hissing draws his attention, and the words he hears remind him of innate knowledge, buried until now, which suddenly has a use. Spotting serpentine eyes through the dark, his voice emerges with trepidation, as would a child. "Hello?"
I guess we shouldn't worry about our stats/aliases for the moment?
Anytime is good. There is no such thing as too much RP, especially with the patient, long-term format of PBP.
That works. Nothing like playin' fresh blood right out of the egg. Swapping skills and feats huh? Hmmm...I get the feeling that heal and diplomacy would not be readily practiced by a newborn dragon who's known only torture. they might be innate talents for a dragon, but not likely a focus. Swappable feats...lets see. Nothing particularly noteworthy in current feats, though focus: bite is probably a good one to keep. Other than that, feel free to surprise me.
Funny thing about this character creation...the DM actually gets to determine more than we do, in a sense. The fabulous mutations we're all likely to deal with are less predictable than the characters themselves at this point.
See, the problem with messing with young dragons, is that they have long lives and longer memories. Don't mess with a wyrmling unless you intend to kill it there and then. He WILL get even. Now to see what kind of mess the good doctor made of me... |