Semistrea's page

Serena bids the woman goodbye and begins the long climb back up.

*sniff, sniff* "Most eloquent for an ogre."

"Fare thee well." Semistrea waves goodbye.

After a moment she looks down at the corpse in her lap and adds "Are you so angry at me that you will not even say 'farewell' to our guests?"

"Goodbye." She begins to weep.

The party ascends from the depressing well up to the surface, and Illthir makes ready to climb one of the cobwebbed trees. There is no sign of any living giant spiders in the area, just their blasted, macabre remains curled in upon themselves amid the ground cover.

Illthir peers into the vague gloom and realizes something has indeed changed. Hopefully for the better! She still probably wanted to Concentrate on her dancing lights spell - and Zokon looked subdued - so she'd pass for now.

"Thank you. I don't suppose you want to come up to the surface right?" Strange maidens in ponds usually didn't, but it felt right to ask. Just in case they were too polite to raise the issue. Mmm... Hmm. "Zokon will be all right right?"

"Who?" Semistrea says and looks about to see who Illthir might be talking about. "And I cannot leave my beloved, even though he spurns my attention, and remains as silent as fish in the sea."

Meanwhile, trapped in the bear-hug as he is Zokon slams his head repeatedly into Serena's helm dazing himself, and annoying the red-haired giantess. The battering seems to shake him from his fugue. Zokon's confusion ends.

Durgan backs peddles through the air above the water.

Serenabot v Zokon (grapple): 1d20 + 8 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 8 + 5 = 23

Serenabot begins hauling Zokon back into the deep end.

"Do... Uh people usually go mad near you?" Illthir asks and ponder what flavour of cursed maiden this was. Or, possibly, how much lead there were in this well.

"Oh! Mortals have such strange concepts of beauty." says Semistrea. She seems to diminish, as if whatever internal candle that was illuminating her had suddenly been snuffed out. "It has been ever so long since we have had guests."

"Do... Uh people usually go mad near you?" Illthir asks and ponder what flavour of cursed maiden this was. Or, possibly, how much lead there were in this well.

"Oh! Mortals have such strange concepts of beauty." says Semistrea. She seems to diminish, as if whatever internal candle that was illuminating her had suddenly been snuffed out. "It has been ever so long since we have had guests."

"Thank you," Serena says in reply to Semistrea, as she moves forward.

"And eloquent as well."

"I am Semistrea and this Tamone." says the strange woman. "Being able to shrink I would imagine be quite useful for an ogre. She's very pretty."

"YOU ARE VERY PRETTY." she says to Serena very loudly and slowly.

"No one has been down here in some time."

Durgan suspects these are undead.

He is not a zealous destroyer of the undead, and makes no threatening moves.

Durgan isn't precisely sure what they are. The skeleton is certainly a skeleton, but unliving or not it is not moving and there is no unnatural chill, glowing eyes, etc... to indicate more at present. The woman is alive (she sniffles as she looks up--she's been crying and not blood, and she seems to be breathing).

"'Werewaif'? I am afraid I do not understand." she sniffles as she speaks. Her accent is both odd and vaguely familiar. Her cheeks glisten. Clearly she has been crying.

"Is that your ogre?" she says pointing toward Serena.