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Nothing.
Then...
You are rudely yanked back into life, sucking in air and crying out as if reliving your first moments free of your mother's womb. Yet, everything is still dark as if you were floating in a wizard's inkwell. Even with your eyes open, blackness. The squeezing tight pain at the base of your skull was actually a relief. Death had reached out to claim your souls, but when he swiped you fell from his cold grasp. You are alive! Were you then struck blind? No. With the aches slowly dissipating things were becoming clearer, but it was still too murky to know anything for certain. The air feels cool and musty in your nostrils, smelling of wet dirt and stone. Around you everything felt jagged and gritty. A rock shifted causing dust to shower over you. It mixes with the tears on your cheeks and turns to batter. What happened?
Memories flicker with each blink.
Armasse started at noon. Did it? It was supposed to begin on the hour with Lord Hullrun's blessing. As the ruler of Kenabres that was his responsibility and honor. However, after spotting a smudge on his armor he took time and had a squire polish it. Leaving Armasse to begin a couple of minutes late.
@Alexa Dorne: Miles stood by your side, excited and brimming with curiosity and hormones. He did his best to do you proud and stay put, but puberty is like a bad joke for a young man. Despite his interests, his mind wandered to the bright aasimars, the lithe elven beauties, and the sultry looking tieflings. Realizing his subconscious had him ogling down the decolletage of a well-endowed dwarven woman, he gasped and snapped his attention forward before she noticed. ”Yes. Of course!” He said to you, pretending to pay attention to your questions. However, you're observant. And, the pink on his cheeks only confirmed your suspicions. ….but where is he now? Sitting straight up you cry and reach out for him. Your shoulder hurts!
”MIles?!”The only answer you get is your own voice echoing into the blackness. Then out of nowhere a pair of hands grabs you.
The crowd gathered in the Clydwell Plaza, and as the aged inquisitor made his way up the wooden stairs to the stage a calm came over the people. It was a strange kind of quiet, like the calm before the coming of a storm. Smiling, he looked over the audience before clearing his throat.
@Telerin Quenya: Armasse was quite the spectacle. There were so many people! All races, large and small, gathered here at Clydwell Plaza. Originally, you wanted stay huddled in the 'Librarium of the Broken Black Wing', but the library was closed, shut down for the festivities. Plus, the other wizards insisted that missing Armasse would be a shame. Aravashniel, an elf and wizard, like yourself, called it, “an insult to Kenabres and its history.” And not long since your arrival, and to your (possible) amusement, a young human male examined you. At first his eyes were on your ears but eventually drifted down to your other attributes: your chin, neck, shoulders, his eyes lingered on your breasts, then down to your hips, and finally down your legs to your feet and then back up again. At the first sign of you taking notice he straightened, blushed pink, and ran away pulling a dark haired woman with a ponytail by the wrist......What happened after that? That feels important..........It's all blurry. Then you remember a bright light.
You wake up face down in some dust. Lifting up your gaze you see a man holding the dark-haired woman. One hand is on her breast while the other has a weapon held out in front of her.
Hulrun cleared his throat, and just as he opened his mouth to speak a bright light erupted from the West. It looked like a second sun setting on the horizon, white and pristine. Hulrun's figure was rendered to a silhouette, a shadow on the stage. The people of the crowed moaned and raised their hands to shield their eyes. A second later the earth shook and the sound of the explosion followed, roaring like angry thunder. People cried out in shock as a forceful gust of air blew sand hard and stinging against their skin.
@Baleon the Bloodhound: Your heart was a flutter. In all your time on this planet were you this proud! Escorting Lady Terendelev, albeit with five other paladins, was just a tremendous honor. She just wasn't the city's matron and saint but something more spectacular: an ancient silver dragon! Of course, you never really saw her as a dragon before, nor did she look ancient. In fact, she looked like a youthful, gorgeous woman, with noble appeal radiating from every atom of her being. Despite all your oaths and pledges it was difficult not to notice her beauty. Her dress was elegant in it's design, shimmery and, of course, very very silver. The sunlight sparkled off it. Once Hulrun had taken to the stage she raised her chin, turned to you six and smiled. Then, as if sensing your awe, she patted you shoulder before turning her attention back to the stage. In that second the world was bleached away, engulfed by an incredible white light. Then, once you blinked the purple spots from your vision a wall of metal pushed over, and then there was falling.
In the darkness you hear a woman's voice cry out, ”Miles!”, and it pulls you back to consciousness.
”My lady!” you shout and reach out in hopes of catching Terendelev. Finding a figure your hands tell you is female, you yank her close and bring your weapon across her torso to bar her from any danger just as you were trained. However, something was peculiar and not quite right. Terendelev had white hair, not black. And, uh, was this person's ponytail twitching? Also, to add to the awkwardness your left , even though it keeps her close and protected, its hand presses into this stranger's right bosom.
The fortress known as The Kite, the location of Kenabres' wardstone, was now a spinning pillar of smoke and deep red fire. A moment later, Terendelev roars at the sky. But it's not the shout of any woman but that of a dragon! Her body began to grow, changing into the shape she was born with, that of an ancient silver dragon! Spreading her wings wide she brushed the people back, shielding them from what was coming.
@Arloric: It was just a little, innocent nap against the wall. Snorting away you look around and find something dangling from your broad antlers. Ahead of you are three giggling girls, pointing at your head. Looks like these munchkins have decorated your head while you were sleeping with streamers, ribbons, and many colorful strings. And, it looked like they didn't skimp on the beads either. Then there was a sudden flash of white, the Kite had exploded, and those three girls ran screaming to their moms.
Suddenly, you find yourself waking up again. Your' covered in soot and dust. The pounding in your head feels as it could be almost permanent. From the shadows you hear Alexa cry out for her brother. It was followed by a man shouting,”My Lady!” followed by the sound of a weapon leaving its sheathe.
Khorramzadeh laughed and leaped at Terendelev from the direction of the explosion. His crimson skin was engulfed in clouds, flames and lightning. Gripped in his thick hands he held a sword covered in fire and a whip. The impossible had happened, the Worldwould had come to Kenabres!
@Uriel Aurelius: King of the log sounded like fun, and you proved really good at it. Who knew that paladins were proficient with pillows, right? You had even given it a proper name: Smite. All noteworthy swords had names, why not a worthy pillow? Nobody would dare challenge a man whose pillow was named that. Unfortunately, your next opponent was a woman. And not just any woman but a dark elf. Well, a half-drow at least.
The fight was short. Worldwould had finally invaded and duty called. With a yell you grab your sword(and Smite) and turn any demon into ribbons. How dare they defile this city with their presence! You just slid your blade from the mouth of a thorny demon when the ground below you gave way. Waking up, you back creaked with pain. Smite is beside you, and standing over you, looking down, is your opponent.
As the ground continued to shake it disgorged demons into the streets. Above the dragon and the balor fought, Khorramzadeh's haughty chuckling echoed through the sky. Terendelev stopped his laughing with a buffet of her wing, turning his chin suddenly skyward. Slowly, he brought it back down and he glared at her, his stern frown oozing into a triumphant grin. Electricity arced across his many horns.
@Ithilwen:The game is called 'King of the Log.' The premise of it is easy. Two competitors armed with pillows stand on a narrow log and hit each other. The one who falls off first loses and is then the King until he, or she, is knocked off and is replaced.
”Careful,” said the vendor with an amused smirk, “this fellow's a paladin. You're pretty but good looks won't save you. He's been king now for a while. Six people tried and all of them went crashing.” Smiling, you reassure him that you'll be fine and step onto the log. He didn't look too scary. Shiny, and maybe a little smug but not overly frightening. He looked you over as well, and winked. Then the vendor whistled.
He was the one to swing first, and it was just a feint to test your reflexes. After that was just a blur. The earth shook, and suddenly you were left blind by this incredible white light. That hurt, and it took you a moment to regain your sight. Once you had blinked the purple splotches away there was a silver dragon in the air fighting a balor demon and Kenabres was in pandemonium. Turning to your opponent to ask him WTF was going on you see that he's gone. Vanished.
”Oh. Right. He's a paladin,” you say to yourself, chuckling. That's when a goat-headed demon barreled into you flipping your slim body end over end. Thankfully, you landed on your drow tush. Then the ground gave way. Yes, you went crashing but not because you lost at King of the Log.”
With a groan you peel yourself off a large chunk of road and look around. It feels a little like home. And, lying beside you is your opponent, the aasimar paladin. He still has his pillow.
”Is that all you have Terendelev?” The balor cackled and brought his wings tight to his back and dived at her. Terendelev roared and spiraled down, crashing into the facade of the Cathedral of Satin Clydwell. Bricks and mortar fell onto the floor scattering those below. One woman was not so lucky as one of the statues tilted and fell on top of her smashing her like a bug, rendering her nothing more than a messy red stain on the cobble stones. Pressing his hoof into her abdomen, he took hold of her neck and gave it a hard shake snapping her head into the apex of the building. She groaned.
Teredelev bared her sharp shiny fangs at the Storm King. ”You cannot win Khorramzadeh,” she said. At that moment a titanic demon erupted at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to gravel as it smashed into this world swinging its tremendous fists back and forth. The rift it created shot across the plaza, and this time there was no escape. The ground underneath tore open angling into darkness.
”Yes. Yes I have!” He roared in triumphant laughter and raised his blazing misshapen sword. The demon had finally left himself open and Terendelev could have saved herself. Instead of twisting her body to whip him back with her tail she raised her bloody claw to save some Kenabres souls. After she uttered a few arcane words she reached out a bleeding talon. Your plummeting suddenly slowed as if you were an autumn leaf. And as you drifted downward into the depths, the last thing you saw was the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword cleaving though her neck. As her head dropped the rift above you slammed shut!
@Aberus Ocellio: Oh the poor poor girl! 'Drench the Wench' was a mean game -sort of. A woman is stands on a red dot painted on the ground. Behind her is a contraption with a bucket of water at the top. Each patron who paid his three coppers can throw bean bags at a target fixed on this machine. If it moves the bucket of water falls on the woman. Which is alright since she's shouting horrible insults and is wearing horns and a tail –wait. No. She's a tiefling. She really does have horns and a tail.
Giving them your pennies you get your three bean bags. The tiefling woman then shouts at you, calling you girly and that your chin looks like a butt. And for your first two tosses you hit the target but nothing happened. Then she said something horrible.
”Your momma is so fat -” and she didn't get to finish. There was some anger in that throw and the bucket turned. It wasn't a small bucket either. The water quickly filled the neckline of her blouse and pushed it all the way down. She howled in embarrassment and folded her arms to hid her bosom. Before any apology could be given a shadow loomed over you. At first you imagined it was a cloud drifting over the sun, but it wasn't. The people scattered as the Storm King stepped over you....now you're in what you think is a cave and you're not alone.
You are rudely yanked back into life, sucking in air and crying out as if reliving your first moments free of your mother's womb. Yet, everything is still dark as if you were floating in a wizard's inkwell. Even with your eyes open, blackness. The squeezing tight pain at the base of your skull was actually a relief. Death had reached out to claim your souls, but when he swiped you fell from his cold grasp. You are alive! Were you then struck blind? No. With the aches slowly dissipating things were becoming clearer, but it was still too murky to know anything for certain. The air feels cool and musty in your nostrils, smelling of wet dirt and stone. Around you everything felt jagged and gritty. A rock shifted causing dust to shower over you. It mixes with the tears on your cheeks and turns to batter. What happened?
OOC
[3] The module doesn't speak much about Terendelev but I treat her as if she were very important, something of a Mother Theresa; a saint. She's beloved by the people of Kenabres. She likes to call those drow and tiefling that fight against Worldwound for the betterment of Golarion 'Risen'. On account they've risen above all their struggles to strive towards becoming better.
For the next few posts all you need to do is examine your situation and let your group meet. Make sure to describe yourself in someway and do one action that is a character quirk / tell we'll see often. For example, eye rolling sarcastically when someone makes a suggestion you disagree with. Or, tapping your chin while thinking. I hum and sing to myself when I'm mad. It keeps me from making stupid outbursts. See what I mean?
Once you've met I'll introduce to you three NPCs, and then we'll continue on from there.
Baleon gasped as he woke, his eyes shooting wide and darting side to side. Pitch Darkness. Dry throat and lips. He coughed, tasting stale air. His chest and back ached.
Groaning, he pushed himself up to sit, and the stabbing sensation dulled. He reached up to his neck, his fingers grasping and searching until they found the fine chain links beneath his armor. Following these, his fingers clasped around both the wooden carving of Iomedae's sword, and the stained wedding band that hung from the same cord. He closed his eyes and smiled, then tested his legs.
His joints felt stiff, and he muttered a prayer of thanks - for he still had joints. He wiped his forehead clean of sweat and dust, and chuckled as he felt the familiar sensation of his hat on his head.
A groan issued from the darkness and Baleon's hands scrambled, searching for his sword. His hand clasped a handle, and with the hiss of steel raking stone, Baleon swung the blade before him, as his other hand still clasped the holy symbol and ring around his neck.
Baleon gritted his teeth as he heard and felt shapes move around him - the dancing of dislodged stones, the coughs and groans that seemed to echo around him.
But... There had been others. Others who had fallen. Baleon wetted his cracked lips, swallowed, and spoke to the darkness with a hoarse, hissing whisper:
"Hello?"
Dotting
The tall, brown-haired Taldan man stirred in the darkness. He felt cold, hard stone pressed against his face and hands as his awareness returned. The void receded, slowly, and this new reality took shape. He didn't remember anything, not even his name. The place he came from had no thought at all, no being, and no existence.
He didn't miss it.
He heard something scrape against stone and realized it was his own body as he shifted on the ground. That's when the pain reasserted itself: a sharp, terrible piercing in his skull. He'd suffered from persistent headaches for some years now but they had never hurt anything like this. Nothing had ever hurt like this.
A memory? Aberus shifted again. He had been somewhere. The festival? He was playing a silly game, just for fun, and then something had happened that made him angry. Or did that really happen? He wasn't sure.
The pain was fading now. He tried to sit up but his balance had been replaced with vertigo. The cold, hard stone was on all sides of him and there was no up. He gave himself more time to recover, then tried again. This time, he made it to his knees.
From the darkness, he heard a hoarse whisper, and metal on stone. I'm not alone. He felt for the ankh hanging from the leather cord around his neck and nearly panicked when he didn't find it. He searched more frantically, feeling dust and dirt on his cloths and armor (Armor? Of course: it had been Armasse. "Full raiment", they said.) as he did so, and relaxed when he found it had gotten stuck in the fold of his cloak in back. How did that happen? He straightened it out, and then reached to his sides where he felt the handle of his scimitar on one and the mace on the other.
In his head, he heard his mother's derisive voice, "Where is your dawnflower now? Who will light the darkness?" He ignored her.
Cautiously, tentatively, Aberus spoke. His mouth was dry and his voice creaked. "Who's there?"
Waking up and with a great intake of air as she catches her breath, the elf will attempt to gain her bearings after making sure that nothing is broken, her legs or ankles, her wrists or hands. After seeing that nothing is broken or seriously damaged she will stand up. She sees a man holding a woman who seem to be in distress. Standing and gathering her once pristine white robes robes around her, which were now tattered, frayed, torn and grey with dust and soot. She calls out to the pair I am Telerin Quenya, I mean no harm. Can I help you in anyway? Perhaps I can help the woman? Please, I would like to help.
Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
Alexa tries to pull herself free from whoever it is that's clinging to her. "Ow--let me go!" She flinches and tries to wriggle free out of whoever's grasp on her breast.
"Yes, could you help me stand up?" She finally responds to the woman's voice. She blinks a few times, hoping her darkvision will at least allow her to see who's groping her.
The elf will approach cautiously and will attempt to gauge the woman's wounds heal check
The elf will go her best to help the woman stand.
Ithilwen doesn't remember the exact details of her fall, but from the jolts of pain coming from every joint in her body, she figures it must not have been a particularly graceful ordeal.
And to think the day had begun so well. She even thought she had a chance at dethroning the current "King of the Log" champion, as she stepped onto the beam with gymnast-like grace, one foot in front of the other, eager to use the impetuous paladin's fury against himself. He looked kind of familiar, though... I wonder...
A sudden flash jolts through her concussed head. Ah yes. He was among the crowd at the Defender's Heart. The one who was teaching Miles about Empyreals. Her mind gradually clears, and after this first memory, many other follow. The demons. The smoke. The screams. The fabled city defender revealing her true form to fight the invasion, only to be unceremoniously cut down by a demon the like of whom Ithilwen has never seen.
Painfully rising to a sitting position, her eyes pierce the surrounding darkness. The first thing she notices is her former opponent, the once and now forever undefeated champion. His sword is by his side, the ichor stains along the blade mute witnesses of the fight he just put up. For all their braggadocio, those self-styled holy warriors have their use she admits to herself, as the dull pain in her stomach and buttocks tells a far less glorious story about her own performance. Wait. Is there ichor on the pillow too?
The cobwebs in her head now fully dissipated (her throbbing temples, however, are another matter entirely), the direness of the situation now washes over her fully. She starts shaking the aasimar lying by her side, gently at first, then more and more desperately as the time passes. It is then that she hears a familiar voice in the darkness.
"Alexa?"
Baleon sighed at the sound of human voices, and he had put out a hand to push himself up from the rocky ground and made contact with something soft.
Hmm? What's this? He thought as the soft mass trembled beneath his palm.
"Ow--let me go!" A woman's voice shouted from somewhere next to him. Baleon leapt away, and went stumbling down over a loose rock.
"S-sorry!" he blurted as he climbed back to his feet, leaning on his sword.
He turned, searching for the source of the two other voices, and trying to ignore the red flush creeping into his cheeks.
"Telerin? Was it? Yes, she - she's over here, follow the sound of... Does anyone have a light?" Baleon called. Then checking the strap over his shoulder, found his backpack still clinging to him.
"Just - just a minute, I'll have something in a moment..." He says, as he swings his pack onto the ground and searches through its contents, eventually pulling out a torch and flint & steel. He immediately starts trying to light his torch.
The elf will help the woman up.
Aberus heard a voice in the dark ask for light. Around him, he could hear more rustling, more moaning. More people. It was cold and black, and the air smelled rank.
Light sounds like a fine idea, he thought. And if we were in immediate danger, we'd probably already be dead.
"I do," he replied, his voice still raspy. He coughed a few times, and when the short spasm ended he spoke the words to the cantrip and wrapped his right hand around the silver ankh hanging at his chest.
Catching the light and looking at the source, the elf recognizes the ma man with the light Servant of the Dawnflower, Aberus, this woman here might need your help! Sarenrae's light is indeed most welcome here!
Alexa wobbles slightly as the elf helps her to her feet. "My thanks."
"Alexa?"
A familiar voice startles her as she stands up. "Ithilwen? Is that you?"
When the area brightens (courtesy of another familiar face), Alexa rubs her eyes and looks around. Huh. I recognize all these people--they were at the Defender's Heart last night. But how--
Her eyes widen and she feels her stomach twist into knots. "Miles? Miles, where are you?! MILES!" She turns and starts frantically digging through the rubble around everyone, heedless of the worsening pain in her shoulder.
Might be fractured or dislocated. Irrelevant. Miles is in trouble!
Arloric coughs and gasps as his eyes start open. The darkness visible, he realizes his eyepatch has somehow come loose, his other eye on full display, a black orb with a golden iris peering out of it, like the eye of a beast...or a demon.
He yanks himself up and hears a whisper of "Hello?" in the dark.
"Bale?"
Then he recognizes the yelling.
"Dorne! Dorne, is that you?!"
When he hears a call for light, he immediately responds. He makes the sign of the sun with his hand and touches it to his blade while muttering in Druidic. Almost immediately the large blade lights up like a warm summer day. Arloric holds it up to see the others more clearly, and the others can see him too.
"Does anybody need healing?"
Is that Arloric? It must be.
"...yes, yes it's me..." She quietly replies as she continues digging around for any sign of Miles.
"Oh, thank the Earth and Heavens! Who else is down here? I thought I heard Bale's voice naught but a moment ago."
Still holding the ankh in his right hand, Aberus lifted the leather necklace up and removed it from around his neck. He opened his fingers wider, unshuttering Sarenrae's light, and then released it from his grip to let it dangle from the cord. He held his necklace outstretched so he could use it like a lantern.
He looked around and saw several faces, all of them familiar. All of them from last night. How is this possible?
Telerin called for him. Someone needed healing? Then he heard another voice cry out, "Miles? Miles, where are you?! MILES!"
Aberus scrambled over to where everyone was gathering.
"Aberus Ocellio, servant of Sarenrae. Is anyone hurt?"
Uriel's head was swimming as he came to, beset by the sound of several voices. What? Where am I? Who is that? What's going-wait! The demon! He looks down, seeing his sword spattered with profane ichor. Disgusting, he thinks. Climbing gingerly to his feet, he takes stock of himself and his possessions. Everything seeming to be intact, he scans the immediate area for threats, eyes narrowed. Seeing nothing, he murmurs a quick prayer of thanks to Ragathiel under his breath, then turns to the others. Is everyone alright? What is going on? The last thing I remember was Terendelev fighting the Storm King, then all was falling and darkness.
"Arloric? Yes, I'm here too," Baleon steps toward Arloric with a lighted torch in hand.
"Are you all right? You seem to be all right." He says, looking Arloric over, before looking about at the others.
"We seem to be underground... Beneath the city - no doubt the fight goes on above." He replies to the copper haired knight.
"You... All of you were at The Defender's Heart the other night..." Baleon's voice trails off at the dark haired woman's cry, his heart sinking as she claws through the rubble. He turns back to Arloric, his brows furrowed and his frown forming creases in his cheeks.
"We need to see if there's anyone else down here." He says, turning on his heel to kneel at Dorne's side. Setting his torch next to him, he sets about hefting some of the heavier rubble out of the way of her search.
"I'm fine. It takes more than an earthquake to kill a child of the earth."
Arloric tries to smile a bit, but it's clear he's not sure if he should or not.
"I...guess this means we won't have time to spar."
He quickly abandons the attempt at a joke and notes the others.
"The quiet elf, the sun priest, the bardess and that other knight. I remember from the Heart last night. A merry meeting to you, I suppose. As merry as one could be at a time like this."
He gapes a bit at Uriel's words.
"The Storm King?! Here?! But the Wardstones should be protecting the border! Oh, by every god and his mother! We need to get out of here! If they're making their final push..."
He leans his sword against a nearby stone so it can continue to illuminate the pit, and joins Baleon in moving the rubble.
With the auburn-haired paladin seemingly springing to his feet, Ithilwen's attention is soon drawn elsewhere. A flash of light briefly blinds her, as the previously black-and-grey forms explode into a galaxy of colours. When she finally regains her sight, a plethora of familiar faces is there to greet her. She briefly ponders the meaning of such a serendipitous occurrence, before realizing there are more pressing matters that require her undivided attention.
Deep-seated instincts immediately kick in. They are in peril, and this means this is the worst possible time and place for showing weakness. Ignoring the pain coming from every fibre of her being, she forces her body to stand up in a single, fluid motion.
"Indeed, it's me. And I think I'm all in one piece, thank you" she says in response to Aberus' offer, still squinting her eyes. "One big, aching piece; but still..."
Alexa's mentioning Miles has her stop dead in her tracks. "Was he with you? Did he... Did you see him...?"
She can't bring herself to finish the question. Instead, she immediately moves to help Baleon and Alexa with their digging. "Miles? Are you here? Come on, aunt Ithilwen wants another dance... Miles?"
Aberus bowed his head slightly to Ithilwen. "I am sorry about the sudden light...Ithilwen, is it? I am glad you are OK." He added, "I am going to check on the others."
He walked over to where Urial, Arloric and Baleon talking. At Uriel's mention of the Storm King, Aberus grew pale. "Khorramzadeh! Are you certain..." his voice trailed off as the memory returned. He was feeling terrible about the tiefling girl, and wasn't sure if trying to help would make things better or worse. He was paralyzed by indecision when the sky darkened. He instinctively looked up at the cloud that was blocking the sun, only it wasn't a cloud. Then there was only darkness.
The implications of this sank in. "The wardstone. He must have attacked the wardstone!" He appeared visibly shaken and staggered back a couple of steps before steadying himself.
He turned to face Arloric and Baleon as they began shifting the rubble. "We need to both, I think. And the lady Alexa...the boy she was with last night. Is he down here as well?"
"Worry not, Aberus of Sarenrae." Sarenrae. Sarenrae. She's always liked how the name dances on her tongue. Sarenrae – Bahram's forgiving goddess. "It was the rational thing to do. My eyes simply need some more time to adjust than yours, 'tis all" says Ithilwen softly without ever averting her gaze from the pile of rubble she's searching.
I have seen no one else besides we who are here. That does not mean that we are the only ones here. Perhaps I can see what else is to be found here?
The elf will kneel down, in a more or less comfortable place and will begin to concentrate and chant.
Ast arera kdsr wsre spending what time she needs in order to cast and use detect magic.
"Dammit, this is taking too long!" Arloric snaps at no one in particular as he and Baleon try to move the rubble. "Hang on!"
He steps back and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and beginning a druidic chant. His body warps and spasms slightly as he starts growing taller, and his muscles appear to strengthen and swell. Soon Arloric stands nearly ten feet tall, bumping his head on a large rock overhead.
"Gah! I'm fine." he says, his voice seeming to have dropped an entire octave as he kneels and starts grabbing rocks with much bigger and stronger hands.
Slowly and achingly you manage to help each other, and nobody is really injured just roughed up and dusty. Sadly, there is no Miles. He's not here with you.
Moving the rocks just makes things worse. The stones shift and roll making things worse and not better. If you continue digging and pulling rocks you'll bury yourselves. Doing that will not save you, or let Alexa find Miles.
As Alexa shouts and scratches at the rocks for any signs of her younger brother, named Miles, a man sits up out of the dust and groans. He's well dressed and the circumference of his stomach tells you that he's eating well and may have an allergy to exercise. ”Miles who?” the man said. He sounded annoyed, and he shook out the dust from his thinning hair. “Where are we and what happened? Why is it so dark? I demand an explanat –What was that!.” A scream piercing through the darkness interrupted him and his face lit up in awe his back arched with his shoulders up by his ears. From the pepper colored dust, a woman arose but her leg was mangled, made crooked from the fall, and she tumbled like a log down the landslide into a heap. The pain had her balled up and gasping. The well-dressed man just stared at her and then lifted his eyes to look at you each in turn, his face lit up in astonishment.
20 feet away to the west, for those that can see another figure rose out of the debris. His figure is slim and graceful and his face from the bridge of his nose is singed, but yet wet. His eyes are gone leaving empty pits in his head. Telerin recognizes this elf as Aravashniel from the Librarium of the Broken Black Wing.
Alexa manages to leap aside of the tumbling debris. "Gorram it!"
She takes quick stock of the situation before turning to the others...
...no sign of Miles. No sign of Miles. No no no no no--not again not again--
”Miles who?”
"Miles Dorne. A boy of thirteen winters--he's my youngest brother. He was with me when this disaster struck." Alexa gasps for breath.
The sounds of the lady screaming in pain and grabbing her leg causes Alexa to wince.
"S#IT!" Aloric bellows as he realized he was doing more harm than good. Despite his enhanced stature, he somehow manages to avoid getting hit by the clashing rocks.
When he hears the scream, he leaps into action over the fat man to the woman balled up.
"Oh Gods, this looks bad," he says, noting her leg. "Aberus! Get over here! She needs a splint, fast!"
The rubble shifted behind Aberus and he turned to look just as Arloric shouted out a warning. He moved quickly, easily avoiding the rocks that came rolling off the pile and crashing to the floor. He coughed lightly as the dust and dirt kicked up by the slide swirled in the air around him.
The screaming of another woman over by the rubble followed by Arloric's call caught his attention next, and he rushed over to them. He saw another figure in the rock pile, and something shifting further up.
"There may be more injured in the rubble, too," he said to Arloric. "Bide a moment."
Aberus held his glowing ankh up high, and concentrated briefly.
Perception
Reflex
Holding her hand to her mouth, in shock and dismay, the elf will call out to her fellow elf, in the language of her people
[ooc] DM, Did I have enough time to detect any auras [/b]
"Watch out!" Baleon cries as he tries to leap away from the falling rocks.
He rights himself, and starts at the sound of the scream. He rushes to the woman's side, eyes casting about for material to make a splint.
"Stay still! We're going to try and make a splint for you."
Narrowly avoiding the shifting rocks, Uriel catches himself and offers a quick prayer of thanks to his lord. As the others begin to emerge, he moves to Telerin's side where she ministers to the injured elf. "My lady, if there is anything I can do to assist, you need only ask."
Almost as an afterthought, Ithilwen deftly steps to the side as some falling debris plummets its way to the ground mere inches from her face.
She casts an icy stare at the whining man barking demands – as if whatever charge he used to hold before still meant something here and now. Stupid fat human. This is the sort of behaviour that will get us all killed. She bites her tongue at the last second, however, as Alexa starts questioning him about Miles.
With Aberus and Baleon taking care of the wounded girl and the elf and the aasimar rushing to the blind elf's side, she realizes there's not much left for her to do, being neither a trained healer nor skilled in curative magic. She heaves an imperceptible sigh of relief as Aberus' energies wash over her, soothing any lingering pain in her head and stomach as she scouts the surrounding area for danger.
In the meanwhile, she starts gathering her loose hair in a knot so it won't get in her way should a threat suddenly reveal itself. A few whispered arcane words, a gesture of her wrist, and her clothing and appearance are once again in pristine conditions.
Arloric stands, seeing that Aberus and Baleon have the lady in good hands. He lumbers back to his glowing greatsword and picks it up. It seems almost like a normal longsword in his giant hand. He rejoins the group and regards the apparent nobleman.
"I'm guessing introductions are in order. I am Arloric Dziergas-Highbough," he says, bowing as best as his enhanced frame will allow. Knowing nobles, showing some deference like this'd probably put his mind at ease somewhat and make him more agreeable. "By what name may we call you, sirrah?"
You all safely swerve out of any rolling debris falling down the slope of the cave in. And as it rolls those that can see twenty feet away in the darkness would see Aravashnial. He's looking like he's had better days. His eyes are gone, and his face looks like a fried steak. However, that's not the point of this. See, your dice have failed you and your characters miss something drifting slowly from above. It dangles on a string slowly lowering itself towards the elves and aasimar paladin, it's eight legs moving like fingers on a hand slowly opening and closing. But, for you, that didn't break a DC 15 this is what you do see. However, Alexa, you did see. And, even with a warning what is posted below occurs, but Telerin will get a saving throw....assuming you say anything.
Something crashes behind Aravashnial into a heap. Surprised, the elf gasped and jumped falling forward into Telerin's arms. Flecks of his flesh and blood decorate her shoulders. The thing that fell scrambles furiously at the floor in hopes of getting traction, but it cannot get its footing. All it musters is to pick its head up, screech, and then collapse heavily onto the floor. The red light in its eight eyes slowly dim and then ebb away to black. For anyone who stepped on a spider would recognize this as a very big arachnid. It has very long legs, a shiny black carapace and a red hourglass on its belly. And, it is not laying still. Is body is jiggling and occasionally twitching.
Is it dead? Aberus did channel energy just a few moments ago. It helped the woman with the busted leg and Aravashnial to a point but her leg is still mangled and the wizard's face looks less red. Baleon's Heal check missed the DC 15 needed to make a workable splint. That said, the roll is enough for him to say that the leg is pretty bad and it will likely, even with divine magic, not heal whole and stay misshapen. The same can be said about poor Aravashnial, but Baleon's perception roll was only a 2, he didn't get a chance to look at the elf while his focus was fixed on the woman's leg. The tubby man with thinning hair and nice clothes, he steps out of the debris with only a pink scratch on his chin.
"I am Horgus Gwerm," he replied and looked Arloric with disapproval. His frown deepened when he realized your demonic attributes.
Suddenly, its front leg jerked forward and kicked at both elvish wizards. If Alexa shouted a warning out Telerin gets a reflex save. A DC15 or higher means she will, with Aravashnial, hop out of the way towards Uriel. If not, both elves will be kicked over and pinned to the ground by a leg. However, Telerin will find out there isn't much strength left, if any at all, in the spider.
Maybe it's still alive, or maybe that was just a postmortem reflex? It's body is still shaking like a jello mold and the mandibles of its mouth slowly flex open and closed. But, more importantly, Ithilwen looks spotless!
Alexa's eyes widen and she shouts "Look out!" at the two wizards, pointing up at the enormous spider descending from the ceiling.
Reflex
Catching her fellow elf in her arms she does not have too much of a chance to comfort him and cover his eyes with her cloth as she hears a cry Look out .
Acting purely in instinct, she keeps a hold on Aravashnial and attempts to jump out of the way, using elven grace.
Arloric shuts his normal eye, looking at the spider with his black eye. He didn't like using it, but he figured since everyone already knew it was there there was no point in hiding it. And the fact that it could see the state of a creature's life energy, whether dead or dying, would be helpful.
Aberus heard the shout from Alexa, and looked up in time to see an enormous, black spider dropping onto Telerin and another figure in the dim light. They narrowly avoided being pinned beneath it's skittering legs.
There were plenty of capable fighters around him, but the injured woman at his feet needed a healer, and those were in shorter supply. Having made up his mind, he bent down to work on the splint Baleon had been fashioning and said, "I'll tend to her. Go help Telerin!"
Uriel reels back as the spider crashes to the ground. What in all the Hells!? concentrating, he attempts to discern the creature's nature, and recall what he can about it.
Baleon responds to Aberus' command by grabbing his great-sword and interposing himself between the twitching spider and the two wizards.
He stands with his sword leveled at the ready, watching the twitching arachnid and ready to swing if it lunges for him, Aravashnial or Telerin.
Ithilwen mutters a silent curse at herself as she hears Alexa's warning and her attention is suddenly drawn upwards. Living among the surfacers has made me think like one. In the Darklands, foes can approach you from every direction.
She cautiously keeps herself at a safe distance from the throbbing arachnid body, but with a twitch of her wrist, the vicious-looking whip hanging at her hip rapidly uncoils, and it's now pulsating with arcane energies, ready to strike.
________________________________________________________________
The warning paid off! After Alexa shouted out for Telerin to look out both elves were able to get to safety and now stand right of Uriel. Baleon stands at the ready with his sword poised in front of him, blocking any chance of attack if the spider chose to do so. So far, Ithilwen, all it's doing is sitting there wriggling like some boob from an anime. However, Arloric might have a new light to share. After using his strange gift reads its life-force, only to discover a strange observation. What is dead and yet has life within it? The spider sits there with its life force evaporating. It's like watching a firework fizzle out, and it is a little sad to see. However, there is a healthy glow within it. What could that mean? Can black widow spiders get pregnant and even give birth to live young? How strange!
Then the spider popped open. SPLURT!
All its insides burst like a juicy pimple showering you in wet buggy guts. It looks like the poor spider had worms! 5 maggots leap out like streamers with their tunnel like mouths, lined with rings of needle-like teeth, quivering in anticipation for their next meal. Looks like you heroes are the dessert! I bet Alexa tastes like cheesecake.
Aberus was focused on fashiong the splint for the injured woman's leg when he heard the commotion a short distance away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flurry of motion as something, or several somethings, erupted from the spider. "Let me know if you need help!" he called out to the others. Then he looked back at the woman and removed his crossbow from it's sling, offering it to her. "Do you know how to use one of these?"
-
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- "Good. Let me know if something puts us in danger, and then shoot it if you can."