Aug 10, 2018 10:18 am
Felor squints at the carved map. "What's the scale on this map? How-" Felor pauses for a second as he glances at the priest, before continuing, "how, ah, how long is the journey, would you say?"
Chapter Six: The Muster of Caltlikrath
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Aug 10, 2018 6:51 pm
"Not long...not long at all, for those who are prepared...the map shows scant more than ten leagues from end to end..."
BullOctorok sent a note to nubs
Aug 13, 2018 3:52 pm
Domarc straightens from his inspection of the map, and takes a step back from the table. He looks around the room with a frown on his face.
"No, not far at all. But the map is not the territory, and sometimes things are not...as they appear. What would we need to be *cough*, excuse me, prepared...for such a journey?"
"No, not far at all. But the map is not the territory, and sometimes things are not...as they appear. What would we need to be *cough*, excuse me, prepared...for such a journey?"
Last edited August 13, 2018 3:54 pm
Aug 13, 2018 7:44 pm
"Transvection is the only way," the priest says. "It is too perilous a journey by foot...the old mountain paths are mostly gone...there is a road in the air, for those who are permitted to take it...are you ready, then? Shall I prepare you?"
Aug 14, 2018 10:18 am
"Friend, if we could just have one moment to confer - we were prepared for a trek of a more mundane kind." Felor smiles a tight-lipped smile to the priest and goes to join his companions.
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Last edited August 14, 2018 10:19 am
Rolls
Arcana check
Aug 14, 2018 6:42 pm
"Oh...yes, if you must...mind you, though...an invitation from Gavrel Gorham is not to be discarded lightly." The priest sits at his desk, turning his head to watch the rest of you gather on the other side of the basement.
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Aug 15, 2018 10:14 am
Felor joins the others, moving close enough to be heard when he whispers: "I do not believe the priest is as he seems. He is... an apparition, perhaps. Not of this world, at any rate."
Aug 15, 2018 4:01 pm
"He's certainly not what he appears," Domarc whispers. "He may have been human once, but I think no longer. This place is wrong. The smell alone..."
Aug 15, 2018 4:22 pm
"So we kill him?" asks Zangua. "He ain't gonna turn into one of those eye things, is he?"
Aug 15, 2018 5:37 pm
Domarc shrugs. "We kill him, we lose our path to Gorham apparently. We refuse his offer, I'm not sure what happens."
Aug 16, 2018 2:27 pm
"I truly don't know what to do. If we don't trust him, we can return to Sthombo and try to track down the Sphere on our own, or we can let this... thing have his way with us and try to finally meet the puppeteer that has been pulling our strings."
Sorry I've been a bit out of it, folks.
Sorry I've been a bit out of it, folks.
Aug 16, 2018 2:33 pm
"Actually, wait. I've had enough deception."
Mordred steps away from the group and pulls down his hood.
"What are you, sir? My friends say you are less human than I am, and I am devilkin. Be honest with us before you transvect us into oblivion, at the least."
EDIT: WELP
Mordred steps away from the group and pulls down his hood.
"What are you, sir? My friends say you are less human than I am, and I am devilkin. Be honest with us before you transvect us into oblivion, at the least."
EDIT: WELP
Last edited August 16, 2018 2:33 pm
Rolls
Persuasion - (1d20+8)
(1) + 8 = 9
Aug 16, 2018 3:46 pm
Domarc arches an eyebrow and thinks Honesty is a bold play. Let's see how it works out.
Aug 16, 2018 5:23 pm
The old priest stands up and turns to face Mordred. He stands tall, his hand resting lightly on his crook. Shadows obscure the expression on his face.
"I am Aeron, priest of...of...of the gods of Bload," he says. "I was born of a woman and a man, who lived and then died..."
Mordred rubs his eyes. Something about his depth perception seems to be off; it appears as if the priest is getting closer to him, even while he stands in place.
"...Human, am I? What is a human? A vessel...for what?" The priest straightens his back, and seems to grow even taller. "I was present at the birth of Gavrel Gorham...I taught him his letters...he is as human as any of us...and yet...are we but vessels? Or are we...what we contain..."
Mordred takes an involuntary step back. Something is wrong. It's no fault of his eyes, or of the wan light reaching into the far side of the basement. The old priest is growing taller, his hair longer. Curling fingernails spiral out of his fingertips. His pale skin turns a dull, icy gray.
"What Gavrel has filled himself with...what he has placed in me...you cannot know...has it cost me my humanity? Perhaps...perhaps, yes...perhaps..."
The priest lifts his head and smiles, revealing a wide mouth full of long, white, dagger-sharp teeth below the black, sunken hollows of his eyes.
"Gavrel has sent you here because he desires that you serve him...as I do...come. Let me prepare you."
He thumps the butt of his crook on the ground. The light on Felor's spear goes out, plunging the basement into darkness.
Roll for initiative.
"I am Aeron, priest of...of...of the gods of Bload," he says. "I was born of a woman and a man, who lived and then died..."
Mordred rubs his eyes. Something about his depth perception seems to be off; it appears as if the priest is getting closer to him, even while he stands in place.
"...Human, am I? What is a human? A vessel...for what?" The priest straightens his back, and seems to grow even taller. "I was present at the birth of Gavrel Gorham...I taught him his letters...he is as human as any of us...and yet...are we but vessels? Or are we...what we contain..."
Mordred takes an involuntary step back. Something is wrong. It's no fault of his eyes, or of the wan light reaching into the far side of the basement. The old priest is growing taller, his hair longer. Curling fingernails spiral out of his fingertips. His pale skin turns a dull, icy gray.
"What Gavrel has filled himself with...what he has placed in me...you cannot know...has it cost me my humanity? Perhaps...perhaps, yes...perhaps..."
The priest lifts his head and smiles, revealing a wide mouth full of long, white, dagger-sharp teeth below the black, sunken hollows of his eyes.
"Gavrel has sent you here because he desires that you serve him...as I do...come. Let me prepare you."
He thumps the butt of his crook on the ground. The light on Felor's spear goes out, plunging the basement into darkness.
Roll for initiative.
Aug 16, 2018 5:32 pm
Zangua asks, rhetorically, "Remind me, why do we never trust them?" Sarcasm in his voice, he grips his glaive as he strains to see in the darkness.
Rolls
Initiative - (1d20+2)
(14) + 2 = 16
Aug 16, 2018 6:34 pm
Honesty is its own reward, as always, Domarc thinks. And that reward sucks.
Rolls
Initiative - (1d20+4)
(4) + 4 = 8
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