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The Primeval Dark (IC)
It was an unearthly and lucid dream, if it could even be called that. The voice rang clear in each of their minds, and within the darkness of the vast dreamscape they could see the shadowy silhouettes of their own companions. Within this place, they could feel and breath, it was as some waking-dream. If what was being heard was to be thought of as true, then this voice, or whoever it belonged to was the trigger, but not the sole cause, of whatever was happening to Golarion - and perhaps even the homes of those other Offworlders who found themselves here. It was an eerie sensation, as if detached and made unliving in some foreign plane without definition. An experience far too vivid, far too unique to be easily dismissed without a thought.
This darkness, whatever it was, was without a doubt not 'real' - in the sense of presently being a physical or tangible place, but something seen across the telescope of their subconscious. Both reality and fantasy, defined only by the awareness that they came upon such a place which did exist, by some definition - somewhere; but they were not entirely sure where such a plane could reside, nor where they had been for that matter. Perhaps it could have been called a vision or a sort, a spiritual sojourn traveled within their dreams.
Yet, they could only question 'why were they asleep?' They were in the middle of a mission. Avecna, their new sponsor, had worked tirelessly to arrange this job. Their client Mastil Pebeltin, was a wealthy merchant who ran trade between Korvosa and Magnimar on behalf of the newly minted Warren Trading Co. A collaboration of various nobles and Magnimarian merchants endorsed by the former sponsors of the previous Sandpoint Mercantile League. Avecna had been on exceptionally favorable terms with the Rossfield family, one of the largest sponsors for the new trade group, and won their team the opportunity to be sourced-out as protection for Pebeltin's caravans. An extremely wealthy venture with little overall risk; the perfect money making venture.
Side-Quest: The Rat of Korvosa
Mastil Pebeltin has gone missing. Likely abducted by the Rello family, the man has a great deal of enemies in Varisia among every Sczarni faction. Still the man was paying well, despite his underhanded methods. You were fortunate to have come to terms with Lady Rello before this mess got out of hand, or you may have bitten off more than you could chew. Saving Pebeltin would bring greater profit, but sour relations with the Sczarni - while meeting with the Rello family and concluding their business would deepen their bond. Crossing a crime family like the Rellos was not a wise decision, but among the Sczarni friends and enemies often shifted from one to another. It was a matter of respect and reputation. Choices were rarely easy.
Difficulty: Low | Status: On-going | Profit: Significant | Time: 48 hours
Objective: Locate & Rescue Pebeltin - (Greater reward/Damage Reputation)
Alternate Objective: Meet with Affri Rello & claim reparations - (Less reward/Increase Reputation)
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(Roughly 6 Days Ago)
It quickly become evident that Pebeltin wasn't all that he appeared to be. The unsatisfying taste of betrayal was an experience not soon forgotten, and so like any experienced Gale they researched their client at length. Soon it was revealed that Mastil Pebeltin was not a simple man like he chose to have others believe. Formerly a member of the Qadira faction of the Society, Pebeltin suffered crushing economic loss after the faction's assets were liquidated during its recent takeover by the new Sczarni-led faction, The Exchange. Unable to maintain business relations, he sunk into Varisia's trade underworld, surviving off black market connections and orchestrating heists of well known Sczarni storehouses and dens to claim some measure of vengeance for his misfortune. He didn't discriminate, sanctioning raids on any Sczarni-endorsed operation, regardless if they supported Guaril Karela, the crimelord who had played mastermind to the faction takeover. Ignorant of the internal civil war being waged between the crime families, he made a massive mistake, becoming an enemy of both sides. While in the grand scheme of things, his efforts only made a small dent in the overall operations of the crime syndicates, the more traditional of the groups could not simply overlook his level of blatant disrespect.
As it was, this particular job would not be so simple. Pebeltin had, for once, been painfully honest with their objective; he had an acquaintance steal a massive shipment of pesh from the Rello crime family some time ago. It had been successfully hidden away in secret, but he had recently lost contact with his acquaintance which set him into a panic. Fearing his thief was caught, the hiding place was compromised. Your mission this time, was personally escorting Pebeltin & his armed entourage to the hideout located in Sandpoint (right under the Rello family's nose). Meeting your peers for this job, an internal alarm was raised - in the form of Guard Captain Lemuel. With great difficulty his true identity was revealed, thanks to Avecna's connections. Affectionately called 'Jim Hands' by those who knew him, he was a professional killer, a Sczarni executioner under the employ of the Rello family. With over half of their escort composed of men and women who wanted Pebeltin dead, Avecna sought the best method of self preservation available; setting terms with the enemy.
In only two days, they had found themselves in the same room as the Rello family's head, Afrri Rello. A true pure blooded Varisian, Afrri was a proud and cunning woman, but even among her peers she was known to be patient and personable - never unreasonable, but meticulous and always scheming for the benefits of her house. The Rello family were frequent customers for the Cotton Club, and thus Afrri was no stranger to how their business worked. Thus, putting a strain on that relationship was far from beneficial to her family.
They came to terms readily. Afrri wouldn't withdraw her men, as Pebeltin had delivered unjust grievance to her family. However, regardless of the outcome they would not resort to violence against the Gales in their efforts to apprehend Pebeltin. Simply put, if Pebeltin happened to simply slip threw the Gale's fingers, he was theirs, but if they could maintain a vigilant guard til the end, then they'd leave him be - this time. In the event of the Gale's failure, the Rello family would cover any penial debt incurred by the quest's failure and provide the mercenaries reparations for having meddled in the affair.
The moist grit of damp fertile earth could be felt upon their clothes and faces, filling their noses with the thick musk of rich land. The ground was soft, so much so that their fingers pressed down into the deep black soil just by the weight of their limbs. Slowly vision and their senses returned to banish the turbulent state of bewilderment. Few leaves lay about the ground, though the grand web of roots from vigorous gray elms lay thickly placed all about them. A forest. One which was no doubt tended to with great effort, for nothing seemed out of place, no blade of grass nor foliage standing obtrusively, as if seen to by the hand of an exceptional groundskeeper. A mental haze still clouded their thoughts as their mind slowly begun to set the gears of thought and consciousness back into motion. Though distant at first, slowly voices begun to filter in.
"Eheh...hahaha... Can I..." It was a wild, almost feral tone spoken by the voice of a child. Another rose to quickly retort, a calm and mature man perhaps, "No. They are human... I think". "Shall I take a bite and see? Kehehehe." said the eerie child's voice. The response this time was delivered by a woman, with strength and experience held within her tone, as if counseling the youthful one, "...And how will you face your father when they prove themselves to be so? I will not speak for your defense again." The words seemed to catch the child by surprise, a sense of alarm rising in his voice, "Yiiiik... Gah, no... Elaa, only you will speak for me to father!" An ancient and haunting voice slowly spoke out. It belonged to a man both venerable and wizened by years beyond number. "If born of cause. If born of reason. Action would be more than greed. Greater voices to find at your aid... I suppose." There was a brief moment of silence before the child's voice spoke out once again, this time in confusion, " ........What?" A young woman cleared her throat from a short distance away, "He means to say, if you act with reason other than your own selfish desires you will have the support of your brothers and sisters. Everstill, your brother is correct. These souls will not be acceptable to your father, nor are they yours to take. They are under my care, so I will have you behave or find your hunt elsewhere." A second moment of silence passed before it was violently ended with the deafening and cacophonous roar of a massive beast. It was impossible to tell, but perhaps the very trees shook and trembled beneath that cry, perhaps the very earth tumbled and danced upon the ground from the volume. Perhaps the beast loomed far-far above in the heavens, and had they been closer the wave of sound would have slain them instantly. They couldn't know for certain, for their minds were rendered black and their flesh made numb beneath the ungodly assault. They couldn't even tell for how long that frightful bellow raged on, their grasp of time slowly being eroded away with each passing second. It could have been minutes, or even hours, but eventually the thunderous howl slowly tapered off and died. Then the child spoke once more, with bitterness and spite filling his words, "Selfish? Greed? Don't care! None of you know fun. Fine then, I go. I will rip. Tear. Bite. Hunt. Like hunters should. Like Elil should! Maybe you remember that when I return." Though there was no physical sensation; no sound nor feeling to hint at it, they each could mentally feel something depart... an absence of something they couldn't define, a unique awareness of an ineffable type of presence which simply was not here. There were no words in any mortal tongue to define it, it simply was, whatever wasn't here.
A long silence choked the air before a gruff and strong masculine man spoke out flatly, "...Ka, isn't wrong brother. Still, you baby him so Elaa." The adult woman spoke again, "Perhaps..." "No, he is not, but that is not all we are. We have a duty to father and the hunt to honor. his law. Without honor to the wheel, we would be without purpose. Ka is slave to his desire, but that was how he was born when written, In his own way he brings us balance and reminds us what we are." The powerful masculine voice paused as if in contemplation of the words he had received before responding in kind, "Your words bring me insight, brother." The young woman who had spoken before the petrifying howl once again exchanged words, "Maa speaks with great wisdom. Let this be lesson to all of you, to hold to your duty and remain loyal to the cycle. You must not become like those who have forgotten their way in this place. Ka performs his duty in his own way, his is a wild and ferocious method, but proof of the pride all kin hold, and the heart of Elil. He cannot be dissuaded, nor can he be led astray from the natural order; that is his selfishness." A rough, strained man's voice croaked out from somewhere afar, as if quietly waiting, "Heh, Loyalty?" The young woman seemed to take note of the man, correcting herself quickly, "None can question your loyalty, Vec. Though the same cannot be said of your brothers and sisters, not all have gone to lengths as great as you to uphold the balance. Many are still far too young and may be led awry still, they need your guidance." There was the briefest of pauses, as if the man had taken note of something, "And they will have it... Mistress, the mortals are waking. I must return now, we will meet again at the hunt." The familiar sense of an unexplainable absence seemed to encroach upon them with those words, "Farewell my friend."
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Date: Unknown - Time: Unknown (Night, Assumed) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Unknown Location
Somewhere Outside Sandpoint
Denil's groans were the first real thing which came to their ears, amid all of the confusion of eerie chatter and the waves of nausea. The plump Halfling rolled on his back, the sound of a frying pan clattering with the other cooking utensils he kept tied to his overstuffed travel bag, was perhaps for the first time, a welcome annoyance. Denil wasn't a particularly pleasant nor kind individual, in fact quite a few souls would consider it a pleasure to be spared his company. However, he had many things other Chroniclers did not, guile, wit and a vast sum of experience. But above all else, he was loyal to Avecna, which made him a trustworthly ally - and that was something you couldn't buy. Denil Demn was a man with a somewhat caustic personality, neither friendly nor particularly welcoming, but was an experienced adventurer and renowned for his resourcefulness. Those who knew him best liked to say that beneath his hard and crusty exterior was a fine mentor who cared deeply about others, and while the man might have been regarded well as a field-instructor, none of them had seen any 'caring side' to speak of. Denil was always the first person to berate and chastise any Pathfinder or Gale in his company for their lack of preparation or carelessness - but to his credit, those he traveled with rarely died. Some might have claimed that was his own way of doing things, and how he cared for those with him - but that was something of a hard sell to anyone who had to put up with him. "Ugh, you dumb kids still alive?" the short man gruffly mused.
A looming cloud of thick mist hung all about them, obscuring vision beyond the clearing which lay about. The limbs of the great tree's stretched on through the mist and out of sight. The circle which they lay within was completely clear of all debris, in a perfect sharply maintained parameter. There were no paths which crossed through the treeline nor the 20ft wide circular field which they lay. The rich soil was black and light in weight, with the consistency of fresh topsoil mixed with manure. The Halfling made a sour face as he took a quick survey of what little they could see. "...You hear that?" the distant Korvosan accent had mostly been lost from his voice, leaving a slight twang in his words. They heard nothing. In fact, an otherworldly stillness seemed to paralyze the world and a hushed silence permeated all things, a deathly-eerie quiet. Not even the breath of the wind, nor the rustle of leaves visited to end the unsettling stillness. There was nothing, only the absolute solitude of a world made mute. The late middle-aged Halfling dug into the deep inner pockets of the folds of his clothes, producing a large brass compass-like device which held no needle nor directional markings, only a bead of unusual silvery metal. Pulling a familiar flask from his belt he filled the brass device with holy water, the ball seemed to bob and pulse to life, dancing in a series of gestures beneath the glass-face of the tool. "Awh, sheit... We need to get out of here. We're somewhere between Point 21 and 19 - The Gap"
The wilderness was a vast and dangerous place, more so because tainted lands could spring up over night. It was the job of various surveyors to comb through the land frequently and detect these changes, those who specialized in mapping the emergence, disappearance or condition of tainted lands were called Voyagers. The brave men who risked their lives recording these locations named each location numerically as a 'Point', some didn't have formal names, but Point 21 did - they could never forget about the incident at Greylight. The region between Greylight and Point 19 was known as 'The Gap' to Gales and experienced adventurers in Varisia. It was a space known for being influenced by two tainted land regions at once, filling it with untold dangers and Veilbeasts, which was slowly beginning to make travel north along the Lost Coast road more and more perilous. "We need to get outta here and find a place to bed down til morn...."
A woman's quiet laughter split the otherworldly quiet which hung thick around them. The Halfling's words were cut-off mid-way by the sudden sound. His face grew pale as he slid the strange brass compass away and skulked a step back to the cover of a tree. "Welcome, guests. I am the guardian of this forest. I have tended to you when you could not tend to yourself, but now you must leave this place. My protection lasts only til the first ray of dawn's light, then I must depart and you will fend for yourselves. If life is your desire, you must move quickly. I will guide the way you wish to travel, while my time remains." It was perhaps, the last waning hours of a winter night, that realization had just come to them now. Yet, they did not freeze nor feel the familiar chill which had slain so many who carelessly traveled these dangerous hours. It was humid and warm, as if the mist were some moist screen keeping the cold at bay. It likely wouldn't last.
Spoiler: Optional Checks
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Optional:
Knowledge (Local) - Location
Knowledge (Nature) - Foliage & Weather
Knowledge (Survival)- Time
Main Quest: The Secret of Beasts
Disoriented and bewildered, the party finds themselves waking from a strange vision in a place they have never been. Waking on the ground of a forest after an unknown period of time has past, they are confronted by the Guardian of this forest. The dream-visions still linger fresh in each of their minds, haunting them with questions and no answers. If what was experienced could be through of as true, the death of the world loomed upon them, and when this tortured vessel - this Colossus, who carried the darkness fell, everything would end beneath its crushing weight. They had to do something before it was to late, they had to uncover the secret of the beasts.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Objective: Locate the Guardian and win their aid with the knowledge from your dreams.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Aden groaned as he came to consciousness, his scars throbbing with a dull ache. Slowly, he rose to his feet, first checking for his weapon, then his armor, then his gear. All still present, though now was not the time to sift through the backpack to check everything.
Holding still, Aden took stock of his surroundings. The strange uniformity, the warmth of the fog, Denil's aggravating condescension. An unfamiliar voice. Of course. Good. What was the last thing he remembered? Talking with the Rello family. Escorting Pebeltin. It was supposed to be an easy mission, but when was anything ever easy?
Ignoring the mystery voice for now, Aden called out. "Right team, sound off. Name, status, last memory of something real. Aden, physically sound, we were negotiating with the Rello family. I hear you, Denil. Status and last real memory." As the others responded, Aden began to dig through his pack for his compass. Might as well try to start figuring out which way civilization was.
Spoiler: OoC
Show
Survival Check to determine North, including bonus from compass.
[roll0]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina opened her eyes, disoriented, and shut them tight again for a long moment to clear her head. Slowly, she got to her feet and took stock of her surroundings. For once, the whispers were actually somewhat comforting; they had been noticeably absent in the... dream? Vision? Whatever she had just woken up from. Had they been absent still, she would have thought she was still trapped in some sort of otherworld. The halfling's declaration was surprising enough--how in the world had they ended up in one of the most dangerous places in Golarion short of the Tainted Lands themselves?--but not quite as much as the voice which seemed to speak to them all, from everywhere and nowhere. It's message, at least, was clear enough--they had no time to waste.
"Arina. I'm... I'm okay. I also remember being at the negotiations." She realized her hand rested on the brooch fastening her cloak, and she quickly lowered it, annoyed at herself. You still haven't learned to break bad habits, Arina. She was taking stock of her surroundings and her other companions when the words of that voice caught up to her. What did that voice call herself? Guardian of the forest? Hadn't the vision said to find the Guardian of the Sacred Grove? It was all a lot to take in, more than she was able to sort through while still shaken up and disoriented... but if the vision had been true, this might be the very being they were supposed to find. "Do the rest of you remember a vision?" she asks quietly. "Before we all woke up here?" As her head cleared, she began trying to orient herself and help the others plot a course out of... wherever they were.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Do we see the wagon with our gear here as well? Or is it just us?
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
The needle of Aden's compass spun in full circle once before finding a heading, after a moment it violently snapped to the left before returning back to its original placement. The dance continued on intermittently without end, but with that he knew where they were. Arina's gaze found the distant and diminishing light of the stars above, and with it, the realization of the time. Roughly an hour remained til the first light of dawn would break.
Date: Unknown - Time: 4:02 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Denil's face screwed up in confusion, "You don't mean to tell me you don't remember a damn thing, do ya? After we dropped the Crowley-boy off at Ashen Moor, he tipped us off to that kid the damn gypsies brought on the caravan back. We never expected Rello to be paying children too, so they got the jump on us." He paused, "...Any of this ringing a bell yet?" It wasn't. "Whoever the kid was, he had a Potential. Took us out. Then they split the caravan, one half north and another south. They took our wagons back north, towards Sandpoint."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
The darkness of the dreamscape was a comfort to her, darkness had always been her friend even before she had come to this world. As she stood there staring off into the dark she looked around at the silhouettes of the others, "Seems like even in a dream we are bound to each other, guess if our fates are tied together like that voice had stated then it would make sense for them to be here with me. I wonder if the others enjoy the dark as much as I do, it has always been there for me... The one guaranteed thing in every night." As the voice faded off she began to wonder why she was here, when had she fallen asleep, she couldn't remember. There was just a black space in her memory, she thought back to what she had last been doing.
She didn't care for the man that Avecna had found, Pebeltin had dug himself a hole. One that would end up being his grave if it wasn't for the money he was offering. He had gotten into trouble with the Sczarni and was trying to escape. Her group had just gotten done meeting with the Rello family and had managed to come to a deal with them. They could try and escort Pebeltin safely to his destination while the Sczarni would try and steal him away or they could leave him to the Sczarni and still make some money off of the mans death. If she was to be honest with herself she would much rather just let the Sczarni families have him, it was a much safer bet and could help them out later down the line if they ever needed the help of any of the Sczarni families. But in the end it was not completely her choice, she still needed to figure out how the rest of the group felt.... hopefully they were of a similar mind as her.
As the darkness slowly faded away she became away of her surroundings. The thick smell of damp earth filled her nostrils, the softness of it caressing her as she laid there collecting her thoughts. Opening her eyes she waited for them to adjust to the darkness of the night. As they adjusted she began making out the web of roots that sprouted from the trees around her, "Another forest, grand... why is it that I keep waking up in forests without memories. Hopefully this time im not in an even younger body, or on another world again... One time is plenty for this life." As her mind started to catch up she began hearing voices around her. The first one seemed to be some sort of child, it was an unnerving voice as it seemed that it wanted to eat her and some others that must have been in the area as well. Thankfully a few more voices had risen up in their defense and seemed to keep the child from devouring her. She laid there listening to the voices, she tried to memorize the names being said. The Child seemed to be called Ka, he sounded wild and untamed as if the darkness itself had driven him mad. The second voice she heard seemed to belong to a man that none of the others seemed to have named, apparently he was Maa or at least that's what it seemed like seeing as he sounded wise and they had referenced him as such. The first female voice appeared to belong to a woman named Elaa, she seemed nice enough but apparently babied the child to much. There was another male voice, this one seemed wise but she never heard a name for him... She decided to call him the Elder since he sounded old and wise. The next female voice also did not get a name, it seemed though that this one was a voice of reason to the rest. She decided to call this voice Reason as it was what identified it the most. A strong male voice had entered the discussion, this one did not speak much but had named another... She liked his voice, it was strong and filled with power she would call him The Strong One. A final voice had spoken, this was had been named as belonging to Vec. As the conversation continued she was taken aback at the feeling of different presences vanishing suddenly, it was a welcomed thing as some of the being had a harsh presence that worried her a bit. Of course the entire conversation worried her, these being kept talking about a Hunt. She did not know what the hunt entailed but if the child's actions were anything to go by then it might have been sapient beings that were being hunted.
As the last presence vanished from her senses she began to hear the groans of Denil as he woke up and began moving about. The clanging of his pack a welcoming sound after having listened to the different voices. Pushing herself up onto her knees she stifled down a groan of her own as a wave of nausea clung to her mind. As the nausea passed she took the time to survey the immediate area, black soil was under their feet as a heavy mist concealed much of the forest beyond it. At Denils mention of the lack of sound she strained her ears listening for anything, after a moment of not hearing a noise she began to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Why is it that I keep waking up in forests without memories and its always so silent. I guess at least this time im not alone." Standing up she checks her body over as she listens to Denil talk. The suddenness of a woman's laugh sent her heart into overdrive a slight squeak coming out of her mouth, it didn't seem like a malicious laugh but still the timing of it and the fact that there was no other noises in the forest had startled her a bit. As the woman spoke she realized that she had heard this voice once before, it was the same woman that had been speaking to the other entities. Her ears perked up as she listened, the woman seemed to want to help them... but she could only help to the sun rose, they needed to act fast.
Hearing Aden and Arina speak up reminded her that she needed to put her facade back in place, though she hadn't fully broke it her voice hadn't been one of either cheerfulness or dread at the current predicament. As she set herself right she quickly replied to the others hoping that none had noticed her slip up, "Umm, I-Its stella... I think I'm good, though a bit worried as to where we are and what happened... Last memory I have besides that surreal dream was of the Rello family and us striking a deal with them. I don't remember any of what Denil said happened, maybe the kids potential is why we can't remember." Pulling her shoulders in she tried to make herself seem small and fragile, "Ummm, if they took our stuff back to sandpoint I would much like to go back there and have it returned. That carriage was my home and it had a lot of my stuff still in it... If Mister Pebeltin was taken then I think it would just be better to get our wagons back and meet with the Rello Family for their offer." She stands there looking at the ground with her hands fidgeting as she waits for the others to reply.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Rolls
Know Local: [roll0]
Know Nature: [roll1]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
As the others roused, Feliks did as well. Groaning softly to himself, he didn't dare yet speak. Instead he moved the spit on his tongue, licking the inside of his cheek, behind his teeth, and around the front. He didn't seem to have any food around there, and his mouth tasted as normal as it could.
He moved slowly, but deliberately, pinching his arm next to see how fast it sprung back. They couldn't have been out too long, otherwise the effects of dehydration would start settling in a little more. Let the others decide what happened in the past, he was going to look into the future.
He took stock of what he knew, which was very little of the current situation. He pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time it had on it, before taking stock of what was around him. In a few moments he nods a little. "Yes. We'll need to hurry." he says simply.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
I might not be a Scholar, but I'm one skillful bastard.
Knowledge (Local) [roll0]
Knowledge (Nature) [roll1]
Survival [roll2]
Heal [roll3]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Stella knew with one look at the dull gray trees and the glassy foliage that they stood directly within the midst of a tainted land. An unnatural and cultivated forest, showing perfect order and symmetry in the face of all that should be wild and free.
Feliks's self survey and conclusion was sound, he knew it was, yet he couldn't deny the truth of his time-piece. Physically, it had been perhaps but a few hours, no more. Yet, he could easily determine the true date and time with his fine tool... Four days!? He knew he wasn't wrong. It had been four days, or rather five with the rising of this morning's sun. They had been somewhere, or unconscious, left in this field for nearly five days... It wasn't possible; At least not for them to have been where they were currently without food nor water. There had to have been an answer.
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 4:03 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Denil groaned to himself, pressing a sweaty palm to his forehand and sliding it down his face to remove the dispirited look from his own face. "Look, I don't know what happened to you kids, or what you don't know. We can deal with that once we have a safe place to think, but that aint here - and it aint now. If we're in the Gap we need to head west til we hit Lost Coast road, once we're on the highway we can get some distance between us and Foxglove river, and goddamed Bleaklow Moor, because none of those places has a damned creature that wont kill us. If I had my way i'd say we're better off heading north, back to Sandpoint. The Sczarni can have Pebeltin for all I care, he was an idiot anyway..." The halfling took a long pause, his gaze drawn over to a form partially buried in the soft dirt. Though barely visible amid the haze of the mist, his eyes squinted inquisitively to make out the form before they went wide in shock and surprise. With a sudden bolting motion he dashed over and pulled the figure up from the dirt, "Kid! Gods be good!" he cursed. He swat Ecta's cheek as if to wake her, yet she remained unresponsive.
The light clatter of a porcelain dish clinked somewhere off in the distance before a familiar voice once again spoke out. "I do hope you've finished your preparations, each minute wasted here is best spent elsewhere." Denil's gaze darted about the clearing, cradling Ecta in an arm, it was impossible to tell the direction of the voice. It was as if the voice were coming from literally every direction at once, like it was projected from the limb of every tree and leaf. He shouted back at the gloom and mist, "Come out you beast! What have you done, fix her!" Clink. The familiar sound of dining finery rang out louder this time, as if perturbed by the old halfling's words.
There was a crushing silence, a familiar stillness encroaching about them. Though there was no movement, no sound, no physical sensation Stella could mentally feel the shift. Within the back of her mind an image played. An image of a great swath of leering shadowy claws. They lashed and writhed, grasping and pulling at a great door of ruined white stone. Then the vision was gone. (Passive - DC15 K:Abstract - Passed)
For the briefest of moments, she saw something; The smile of a bloodied face with hair of silver. A masked man whose glass eyes glowed a burning red. Then Adessa, before a mirror whose surface reflected winding paths inverting, falling, rising and twisting - lined with doors unlike any which could be. The sudden memory came and departed, leaving only the maddening certainty that she once knew what these doors were - what they were called... and how to use them, in another life.
The mist slowly expanded outward, creating a field of clear vision and revealing the perimeter of where they stood. Countless eyes stared back at them. Countless Owls with translucent gray feathers. They were as transparent as ghosts and held beaming eyes of gleaming white light, that seemed to burn with a malicious and unpleasant gaze. They filled every skeletal canopy in a complete encirclement, but one figure was visible amid the ghastly flock. By her figure, it was evident she was female - but it was immediately clear that whatever manner of creature they found before them was neither human nor mortal. Her legs swung lazily from her seat, perched with the owls, but her legs were possibly the only thing human about her. A living shroud of gray shifting ghostly matter cloaked most of the rest of her body, and the same spirit-stuff seemed to compose her other limbs up to her hands, which appeared as if composed of flesh - though still transparent. Large wings hung down from the folds of the mantle and spilled over her perch. However, that was far from her most shocking feature, for she simply had no face. Or perhaps it may have been more accurate to say she had no head or neck, maybe even absent a torso. Her body was nearly entirely defined and held by the ghostly veil, but there was no physical form beneath. A faceless horrible shadow, holding a teacup and fine plate. Reaching at her side, she grasped a lavish steel peculator engraved with pleasant floral arrangements.
With calm purposeful gestures she refilled her cup before returning the dish to its place. Lifting the cup, she paused, letting the warm rising steam rush up to where her face would be, as it to enjoy the scent. Slowly she took a sip from the cup, the contents seemingly vanishing, as if a mouth existed where it should be, but being so unsettlingly absent. In unison every owl which surrounded the clearing opened their mouths wide and ridged, they didn't budge as if held in place. From their unmoving orifices the woman's voice poured out, as if from so many speakers. "I apologize, perhaps we should start again? I am the Waldfrau, Guardian of the Sacred Grove - Du'ased'taur. By the will of The First, I have fulfilled my duty and have seen that no harm come to you within my domain. Know well, I have not mended you. The state which you have found yourselves delivered, is the state which you have been received. Now please, decide what you will do. My time wanes."
Denil frowned but didn't act out, he hadn't survived for so long by letting his emotions make him daft. There was no way in hell he could stand a chance defeating... whatever the hell this thing was supposed to be. Weapon blanches only went so far. His gaze drifted over towards the rest of them. "She'll slow us down... but we can't leave her here. This doesn't look like no kinda wound, but some kinda curse, or something. A curse'll steal your memories and knock a man out cold... forever, if you let it be. We can try for the highway and hope to find a caravan that can bring us up to Sandpoint... or we can try something else. I won't stop you if you're set on finding Plebeltin, but we need to get this girl looked at. I have a... friend, I guess, an Erutaki shaman who lives in the Gap. Not far from here, just north of the Whisperwood. He could help us I'm sure."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Aden turned towards the apparition as it came into focus. The image was certainly a disturbing one, but Aden had seen enough disturbing images at this point. The thief planted his spear in the ground, and bowed, slightly. "We thank you for your hospitality, Guardian, and ask your forgiveness for our slow awakening. Some mischief seems to have been done to us. And while..."
Aden glanced backwards at Ecta's unmoving body. "Hell's bells. Look, Guardian, I've never been good at talking fancy like you do, so I'm sorry if I do you any offense. Our companion's in a bad way. If you've been keeping us safe this far, will you help us find Denil's shaman friend? Keep us safe until we can get Ecta help? It's asking more after you've done us a service already, I know. But...I dreamed of the First. I think. I don't know, exactly. A voice told me you'd be here. Told me to tell you we serve The First. That we seek to end chaos. That you would help us find the path. Truth told, I don't know what that means. But as much as I want answers, Ecta's our first priority. So will you help us get where we're going?"
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 4:03 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
The Waldfrau nodded in acknowledgement of the scarred man's words. She paused briefly at his mention of the strange dream-vision's naming of The First, whatever - or whoever that was. The glade seemed to briefly dim then lighten, as if a shadow passed by; a shadow in the shape of a massive taloned hand. "I see... What you speak is true." The owls echoed. "Pay no mind to formality. You are not of our kin nor custom, and so such cannot be expected of you. It is my duty to protect you, and see you through my domain. I would see you to the end of your destination, but I have tended to both body and spirit beneath four moons. My time now diminishes as I do... Ehm, simply put; I am not such a creature which should exist beneath the light of day. Four suns I have suffered for you, but a fifth I cannot abide. No longer can I remain within your world for days without rest. I will provide safe passage, but you've less than an hour's time to appreciate such succor. For with the first light of dawn, I will be made to depart."
Raising a ghostly hand the circling trees begun to part forming a path. "The man you seek dwells beyond this path. I will explain what I may with these brief moments, but there will be time for answers. Return again when night has fallen. You'd best move quickly." The mist seemed to drift down the new dirt pathway which led away from the clearing, it flooded forth as if funneling through a tube. Its height and distance strictly contained, as if invisible surfaces guided the humid smog.
https://images2.imgbox.com/74/9d/scFdzBVC_o.jpg
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
As the voice spoke again she began looking all around her for the source, Denil had called out to the beast and a clink of porcelain sounded before she was thrust into a vision. It played in her mind and just as quickly as it came it was suddenly gone, a memory followed it, one that must of been of her previous life. The doors that she knew but could not know, what were they... how did she use them, she could not remember. As the mist retreated from the clearing she finally was able to see the being that had been speaking to them. The woman was sitting there drinking tea, for some reason it unnerved her. The woman called herself Waldfrau and was apparently the Guardian of the Sacred Grove - Du'ased'taur, that must be where they are at now. At the mention of The First her mind drifts back to the vision she had seemed to share with the others, it had been a vision from The First, one that had tasked them with finding out the truth of the Veilbeasts. The First had stated that The Guardian of the Sacred Grove would be able to help them with this. Before she could ask the woman about the questions she had Denil spoke up about finding safety with a shaman that lived close by. She thought that it would be a great idea, she herself was a shaman of sorts as well as a witch, so maybe this woman could teach her something useful as well as help Ecta.
As Aden spoke she moved closer to Denil as to possibly assist with Ecta, Hearing Aden say that he was for going to the shaman was a blessing. "At least someone in this damned place can think smart, hopefully the others won't take an issue with leaving that idiot to the Sczarni. Best keep him around, he seems useful enough." As Aden mentioned the vision to Waldfrau, she once again thought that this man would be of use to her later in life. As the mist drifted down to the ground creating a path for them to walk through the forest on she couldn't help but take a step closer towards Waldfrau. The question was on the tip of her tongue, what was this being... could she really reveal the secrets of the veilbeasts to them? Looking back towards the path that was created she slowly steps towards it keeping her eye on Waldfrau as best as she could. "I thank you for the assistance, umm if its not to much then we will be back. If the vision that The First spoke to us in was real and true then you could very well help us in understanding the Truth of the Veilbeasts. If your aid is needed then we will request that aid of you, if you aren't able to stand the sun then we will be back once its dark to speak with you again. I do ask that during that time you provide us with protection as you have done for these past few days." Turning fully to the woman, she bows deeply to show her gratitude to Walfrau before making her way back over to the path. As she goes to step on the path she looks back once more in wonder of what the woman is and begins to think deeply on it.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Some Rolls
(Rolling twice and taking best due to Focused Mind)
Know Abstracts: [roll0] or [roll1]
Know Forbidden: [roll2] or [roll3]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
With a long sigh, Feliks looked over the rest of the group. Most were uninjured, the only one who was any sort of trouble was Ecta. Taking a moment, he pulls a bedroll out of his pack, and a strange pole with little spikes, rings and rods. A Traveler's anytool. He never left home without it. Taking it, twisting turning and pulling, he combined the tool with a the bedroll to make a makeshift stretcher.
He was nothing, if not resourceful, always trying to come up with the next solution to the next problem, though he wasn't much of a talker. Already convinced that the thing meant no harm to them, after all, it could have killed them long ago, he took its warnings to heart. They needed to get out of there and quickly.
"Come we need to get her up and on this. Then leave. We don't have much time."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 4:04 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Denil raised a brow at Feliks's use of tools. If the alchemist didn't know any better, he might have thought the halfling to be impressed. "Fine use of tools. That creativity is gonna save these kid's lives one day. I might make an adventurer of you yet... but lets use this." Placing down his absurdly overstuffed bag he easily pulled out a folding steel stretcher. Though it was light, it was strong and ridged when the joints were locked into place, firm nylon straps allowed the victim to be securely held in place without risk of falling out. Legs fixed with sturdy polypropylene wheels were bolted to each limb and held safety latches to keep them from spinning or allowing free movement or dictating a particular direction. "You can keep this one, I'm sure you'll put it to good use." With some difficulty Ecta was secured in place on the modern stretcher, ready to be moved.
Spoiler: Item: Muti-level Folding Stretcher
Show
Weight: 5lbs (folded) 15lbs (unfolded)
Weight capacity : 700lbs
Benefit: Allows a creature to be moved (dragged) at the operators full land speed. Creatures in this device gain a +2 bonus to fortitude saves made to stabilize.
The unnerving apparition took another sip from her cup, nodding at Stella. "Of course. Though, it would do you well knowing that it is not The First with whom you've been given word, but another. Something else. Someone, once, but no longer." The tree's seemed to rotate, revolve, as if each root were fixed upon some manner of conveyor-belt, moving the Waldfrau's perch as they all set off into motion. Only Stella could see the strange silhouette of hands upon each tree, they moved and pulled, pushed, dancing in a perfect unity - as if directing the movement of trees. The party pressed forward down the misty pathway which had been provided to them, with the Waldfrau's tree seemingly cruising like a wooden vessel through the land at their side. She didn't speak at first, but seemed to quietly eye the woman. "You can see them, can you not? The hands. Seeing such things while not made manifest makes one a Witch in our realm, but they are from different from what you might call a 'witch' in your lands. They do not control such magics which could burn nor maim or kill. They are the intermediaries between the gods, their servants and the natural order. Keepers of a cycle of balance which maintains the harmony between the planes of our homeland. It is a rare gift."
Though the memory was distant, it revealed itself within the back of her mind. It was this world that Waldfrau spoke of which Adessa hailed from. Whatever it was called, the name had escaped her, but this unique awareness was the foundation of her magic - true magic, not the comedic routines of the wizards of this world. There were forces which bound and the threads of every reality and every universe. They could be grasped, twisted, unraveled and remade. Each practice of variant magic which was penned in her earliest works was simply a stepping stone, a means to an end to achieve that awareness here, with those unique forces that fabricated the Great Beyond. That sudden realization seemed to open an eye once closed within her mind, she could see it now, thin glass-like spider threads of energy filling the forest-world around her. The black hands pulled, twisted and tugged at them, weaving intricate patters of geometry. With each gesture the world changed, the tree moved forward. Dozens of hands grasping a single series of threads, to deliver a mind-numbing amount of iterations of commands for each tree moved, for each foot advanced. It happened to effortlessly, without the slightest gesture of difficulty. "So you can see it now as well. Good. You will need to reclaim your power if you wish for the strength to face the creatures who plague your world." (Knowledge: Abstract - Passed)
Main Quest: The Secret of Beasts
Disoriented and bewildered, the party finds themselves waking from a strange vision in a place they have never been. Waking on the ground of a forest after an unknown period of time has past, they are confronted by the Guardian of this forest. The dream-visions still linger fresh in each of their minds, haunting them with questions and no answers. If what was experienced could be through of as true, the death of the world loomed upon them, and when this tortured vessel - this Colossus, who carried the darkness fell, everything would end beneath its crushing weight. They had to do something before it was to late, they had to uncover the secret of the beasts.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Objective: You have found the Guardian, but she cannot remain during the day light hours. Answers to problems and perhaps even your muddled memories lay with her. Return during night and learn what you can.
The eyeless gaze of the Guardian shifted over to Aden and his companions, "These... Veilbeasts, as you call them, are not creatures of your world. They are native to my own, and they are called Ramath'barra. They are existences now born from the cleansed souls of those who have departed from life, but this was not always so. These creatures are the memories of suffering, dreams of pain, and every agony which is stripped from a mortal soul. With every death, the soul is cleansed of memories and pain of their life to be made ready for their rebirth. Ramath'barra are the 'soul-waste' which how polluted the worlds of my realm. To remedy this, The Third divided the material plane of our realms between Isto'thac, the land of nightmare-dreams, and Tangi'thac the land of waking day. Du'ased'taur, my grove, is a place of rest for my children, the Aphyon'beksu. We are owls, Elil of Isto'thac who feed upon your Veilbeasts - the Ramath'barra. If you wish to learn to defeat such creatures, you must also understand that there are very different types of these 'Veilbeasts', and they hold no relation to one another. Just as a 'mortal' may be a human or elk. Never confuse Ramath'barra with Ramath'silinrul, they are not prey, nor are they created by the waste of passing spirits. They exist as written by The First, each created by her own hand and wield frightful strength and purpose - for like me, they are Elil."
The edge of the forest begun to creep into view, a chill wind crept into the humid warmth. It seemed to grow with each step as they pressed on forward, the mist thinning as they went. In the distance a large mound of earth and wood stood defensively placed between large boulders and old wilting trees. They had walked for some time. Beads of bone and strange painted charms lay all about the closer they came. "From here you should manage. My time has almost passed, now I must depart. Farewell." The Guardian's form seemed to blur and fade until she and her trees were no where to be seen. Denil continued on forward, pulling on a rope which hung from a tree as he went, causing a series of bells and chimes to ring off in the distance.
Spoiler: (Stella) Knowledge (Forbidden)
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A voice seemed to whisper out from somewhere. It wasn't physically present, and nothing truly reached her ear. It was as if her heart had caught hold of some distant emotion from far away, and those feelings were made into words. She couldn't understand them, almost impossible to make out. Like eavesdropping on whispers from a well, white noise.
An old voice called out from somewhere off in the distance, perhaps from inside the earthen house, "Wenyri, is that you?". A gray haired man with a moderate beard emerged from behind a heavy wooden door. He supported his weight on a solid wooden cane, and despite his haggard appearance his hair and clothes were well maintained. His clothes were traditional Erutaki garments of lightly colored greens, blues and whites, with a heavy woolen pancho and an assortment of scarves embroidered with Varisian patterns. The old man paused in the doorway, squinting his eyes, "...Is that... Denil Demn?" The halfling snorted "Either that or you're finally going mad, old man." The silvered shaman stroked his beard, "It's been.... huh, twenty years?" The shortman had made it to the front of the shaman's home as he spoke. "Well, that sure was a pleasant surprise.... See you in another twenty, you rat-faced gremlin." The door slammed sharply behind the man as he skulked back into his home. "You rotten old man! Open this damn door before I blow it down!"
Spoiler: (Stella) Knowledge (Forbidden)
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It struck suddenly, a wash of crushing darkness to drown out the rest of her world.
"Hmmm... And just what manner of creature are you supposed to be?"
The voice was deep, almost charming with an effortless eloquence. Within the void of darkness, something was with her, something was here. Her vision slowly begun to come into focus. The distant flicker of crimson fireflies drifted to and fro, broken stone and shattered furniture about the size of what might be used by halflings lay scattered about. There was dried spatters of blood across the mud-brick walls and mortar, which had been built with so much care. He was a massive thing, which could barely fit properly in the room. A great lumbering mound of shifting fur and muscle, with fangs the size of her forearm.
The massive wolf slowly smiled uncharacteristically. He was no animal, the cunning and guile in his eyes gleamed with an intelligence far greater then perhaps even herself.
"No tail? No ears? ...What could you be, I wonder." The massive creature paced a circle about her, it's words carried a cloud of breath which smelled like scented corpses, bodies washed and doused with perfume after preservation. Each powerful word delivered from his great maw pushed her hair with the weight of the air. His lips and face possessed the intricate definition to perfectly annunciate words, despite his canine appearance. Occasionally, his nine-foot long tail would thrash up, wiping her as he paced his circle - evidently intrigued and uncertain, contemplating the mystery of what manner of creature she was. He he never seen a human before? It begged the question of just where she had found herself.
"Tell me Furless, what do they call you?"
Spoiler: Actions
Show
- Spite: 1
- Stella cannot act in the physical world until her encounter ends. She will remain in a trace-like stupor until she returns.
Spoiler: Curent Time
Show
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 4:54 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks took a gander at the device as they loaded the unconscious gale onto it. He may not be the strongest in the group, but his knowledge of using force and levers allowed him to rather easily carry much more weight than he should be able to. However this device would allow him to easily drag so much more behind the party when he had it unfolded, or help keep a party member alive as they were doing now.
The warm greeting made him frown, as he glanced to his other companions. He wasn't much for talking himself, but if they needed, there were very few wooden doors that could withstand a well placed explosive device. "If he leaves us out here and the beasts come, I'll make sure they get into his cottage too." he mutters under his breath.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina shook her head as the guardian departed. Come back after dark? Back into veilbeast-infested lands after nightfall? Of course. She wasn't sure what the Waldfrau was talking about, with the Third and whatnot, but the bit about the veilbeasts stemming from soul-waste was...intriguing. Memories, impressions... that didn't sound all too different from the kind of spirits she could influence. She wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing yet. Presumably they'd find out when--if--they returned.
Her spirits lifted a bit when they reached the cottage and Denil greeted the old man. At least they'd have a safe place to sort out what was going on with Ecta, or so she thought until the man slammed the door in Denil's face. Of course it couldn't be that easy, she thought, shaking her head. She approached the door and knocked, biting back the bitter response that immediately sprung to mind, deciding it'd be prudent to at least try to be polite before breaking the door down. "Sir?" she called through the door. "We're only asking to stay a little while. Something seems to be wrong with one of our companions. If you can help us, we'll be on the way and out of your hair."
Spoiler: OOC
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Diplomacy roll! Not Arina's best skill, but she isn't bad at it either.
[roll0]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
As she walked through the forest following the path as it was made in front of her, she was in awe at the sheer power that Waldfrau seemed to be able to wield. The woman was moving the trees throughout the forest creating them a path to the home of the man that Denil knew. As she watched she began to see the hands that were moving throughout the forest, as she wonder what they were she listened to Waldfrau speak in regards to them. Waldfrau seemed to understand what she was and possibly knew where she came from, the memory that surfaced reminded her that she was unlike those of this world. Her magic was not the same as those here, it was different... she just could not remember much about it, its power just beyond her grasp. As the memory faded she saw the lines that the hands seemed to manipulate, she was entranced by them for a short moment till Waldfrau spoke and pulled her attention away from them. "Seems this woman knows a lot that I do not, I wonder if she could help me reclaim my power... or lead me to someone who could." As they continued forward she kept watching the hands and paid attention to the different patters that they created.
As Waldfrau spoke on the nature of the Veilbeasts she wondered if once she got her power back if she could manipulate and control the beasts herself. She thought back to what Waldfrau had said, about needing to regain her power if she wished to be able to the face the creatures of this world. She would definitely need to look into these powers more, she knew they were useful she just needed to remember them. As Waldfrau left she turned towards the woman and bowed deeply towards her. The whispers that followed drew her mind away for the moment, "Whispers, hmm interesting... I wonder what they are saying." She stood up straight just as the old man opened his door, she was a bit excited that they were here. The day had already been a bit crazy and she couldn't wait till the night came and she could go back into the woods to see Waldfrau and hopefully gain back some of her memories.
The darkness came from nowhere, it surrounded her and drowned out the world around her. She was startled at the suddenness of it but was not afraid, the darkness was where she resided and within it she felt comfort. A deep voice had spoken and with it her vision returned, she was no longer with the other but was in room that seemed to have been the location of a slaughter. The dried blood that was splattered about would have disturbed most but she stayed calm, it was not her first time seeing the aftermath left by death nor would it be her last. As she looked around her eyes met with that of a massive wolf, the intelligence in her eyes worried her. "This is not a normal wolf, I wonder where I am and what manner of being this one is." Her hair flowed behind her with every word the creature spoke, the smell of death washing over her as she followed its movements. The long tail of the creature knocked her around as she was still but a child and its weight easily was more than her, keeping herself upright was a challenge as the beast seemed to ponder just what she was. Bowing deeply while keeping her eyes on the beast she decided that a little grace would be needed to deal with this creature. "Greetings great one, I am Stella Astral Last Apprentice to the Whispering Witch Adessa Allessa, I am human and am humbled to be in your presence. May I ask your name and manner of being you are? It is not often that I meet a creature as wise and powerful such as yourself. I would also like to know exactly where I have found myself as I am very unsure of what brought me here." Rising up from her bow she puts on a friendly face in the hopes that she can befriend a creature of this size and apparent power.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Some Rolls that I don't know if they will affect what is happening or not.
Know Abstracts: [roll0] or [roll1]
Know Primal: [roll2]
Know Planes: [roll3]
Diplomacy: [roll4] Doubt this will affect it but eh why not
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 4:55 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Main Quest: The Secret of Beasts
Disoriented and bewildered, the party finds themselves waking from a strange vision in a place they have never been. Waking on the ground of a forest after an unknown period of time has past, they are confronted by the Guardian of this forest. The dream-visions still linger fresh in each of their minds, haunting them with questions and no answers. If what was experienced could be through of as true, the death of the world loomed upon them, and when this tortured vessel - this Colossus, who carried the darkness fell, everything would end beneath its crushing weight. They had to do something before it was to late, they had to uncover the secret of the beasts.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: Unknown
Objective: You have found the Guardian, but she cannot remain during the day light hours. Answers to problems and perhaps even your muddled memories lay with her. Return during night and learn what you can.
Denil scowled at the door, briefly looking at the alchemist as he produced a cleanly polished spherical device with a single buffed metal lever and unusual mechanical green lines of light tracing up its sides. "Ain't no door that can keep this halfling out. Of that you can be sure." Even with the strangeness of the world today, it wasn't often that one saw such exotic weapon as plasma grenades. The short man had a tool for every occasion, but he'd been an exceptional sapper before he'd retired and found a desk as an instructor at the Endrin military academy in Korvosa. Explosives and breaching structures much more solidly built than mud huts had been his profession for longer than he cared admit. It was that knowledge which had been how he'd met Avecna. An expert in engineering, ordinance and structural demolition was a good friend to have when you worked for the Cotton Club.
Denil looked like he was ready to blow down the front of the old man's house before Arina interjected with a more diplomatic approach. So close to the door, the witch could hear voices on the other side of the barrier. A girl giggled, but she couldn't make out the words. It sounded like the voice of a child, no older than ten. From within she could hear distance muffled voices that seemed to become muddled together as they spoke over one another. Arina felt an uncharacteristic chill, the familiar touch of something out of place. An old discarded clay pot to her right fell over, breaking a plank and catapulting a heavy vase of flowers at her face just before the door violently opened and smashed the projectile in the air, scattering mud across the house's deck. The voices burst into hysteric laughter before suddenly going mute mid-laugh as if a radio had been unplugged in the middle of a program. Denil froze in place and took a cautious step back.
Haunted Potential Advancement: Heart of Jealousy
You are an object of amusement to those spirits who have plagued you so, but you will not idle quietly and suffer their misdeeds; but first you must find the courage to face them. Each kindness you have given unto the lost souls of others has delivered onto you only misfortune. To those who would haunt you, you are a thing to be possessed, and their bitterness and jealousy will not let them quietly accept the interventions nor attentions of other spirits. They despise the lesser souls of mortals almost as much as they hate their kin. You know now, that to finally face those who would claim to own you, you must force their hand...
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Time: None
Prerequisite: Received aid from 10 or more spirits at once (Cleared)
Reward: Reaping Calm Potential or Vesper of Sight & Guidance Potential
Objective: Receive a Mark of Blessing from 5 spirits, acquire the skill Knowledge (Abstract) and confront the haunting spirit
Progress: (0/7)
The interior was dimly lit by a series of carelessly placed candles, the old man sat in a seat some twenty feet from the door which appeared to have opened by itself. He rocked slowly in a massive chair of bone and wood padded with large pelts. Charms of every description lay accompanied by various painted marks and seals covering nearly every inch of the place's living space. The floor was cluttered with small carved animals and skillfully sewn dolls and stone rocks rounded to marbles. It looked as if a great deal of children lived within this modest home... but the old man was alone. He was speaking to someone... or something, "...This one? ...Very well then." From across the living room he nodded, "You may enter girl, I'll hear you. The rest of them can wait outside... Tell me what happened." A cold draft seemed to drift out from the house, even without entering she could see her breath from the chill of the cold. The dance of the fires cast strange shadows, and at times she thought she could see the silhouettes of so many souls scattered about the interior of that room. Faceless shadows quietly staring back at her, mouthing her name in hushed anticipation.
Spoiler: Optional Check
Show
DC10 Perception: Notice Stella is unmoving in the rear of the party, staring off unblinking as if in a trance.
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Elsewhere
12th of May, Monday - Time: 9:02 am (Morning) / AD 1952 (Spring)
Tangi'thac; The Respite
Wilting Parlor; The Streets of Quarry (Reclaimed)
Stella had never seen such a large creature move so quickly. At the mention of the Whispering Witch the great beast lunged backwards in alarm, striking a dramatic pose with one raised paw. In what seemed like an elaborate ritual, the beast bowed its head in return. "A Witch, of course, I should have known. For you are spited, yet unbranded. Forgive my foolish behavior, C'nros'dalhar." The last word seemed to be a title of sorts which she held. It became painfully evident, the distance in social structure between the two as the massive beast suddenly prostrated himself in such a fashion. "Though you know me, you ask of mine own name. I thank you for this kindness." It was slow at first, the realization that she knew this great beast. She knew his name. She knew why he was here, and she knew where here was. As if her mind had pierced a mystical Veil, almost as if this world could hide nothing from her sight. It came with the sudden understanding that in a way, she owned this creature, for she held his Truename and Weave - the last thought sent pangs of pain through her mind. The thin line of energy, like a spiderweb which stretched off from the top of the wolf's head into the infinite beyond - it too had a name... It was an undue kindness to allow such a creature to present itself and its own name, but a sign of deep respect. "I as my brothers and sisters am Dalhar D'Inlé, as it was written. My name is Afsppa'sol, Who Deceived the Father. This day, just as the first day, we honor the Cycle and the Hunt, C'nros'dalhar." The familiar seemed to strike something buried deeply within, a sense of nostalgia. Those memories were so far away now, but long ago Adessa had called her apprentices by such a name.
The beast glanced about, evidently somewhat curious, "Forgive my asking, but it wasn't your intention to return here was it? Coming to these years past holds no meaning any longer, the Weave has grown stale, as it is for myself as well. I simply came to tend to my brother, but he has now returned. These places are ideal to practice, without harming the present." The great beast smirked, as he rose to his full height once again. "Perhaps this may serve you well, for your magic has greatly diminished. Practice will restore you in time."
Returner Potential Advancement: Focused Mind
With each new exposure to the entities beyond which you were once bound, you reclaim a small measure of yourself. Now your memories begin to return and your magic slowly awakens. Learning to harness your forgotten powers and learning to command the strange planner ties known as the Weave is the beginning to truly reclaiming your past-life might.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Time: None
Prerequisite: Roll two natural 20s on a single check with Focused Mind (Cleared)
Reward: Awoken Mind Potential or Spellweaver Potential or Veilweaver Potential
Objective: Learn the names of two Relicuum spirits and acquire the skill Knowledge (Spellweave)
Progress: (1/3)
- Afsppa'sol, Who Deceived the Father
Spoiler: Stella Actions
Show
- Spite: 1
- Stella cannot act in the physical world until her encounter ends. She will remain in a trace-like stupor until she returns.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina was taken aback by the man's change in demeanour and his... unusual decor. Unconsciously wrapping her cloak a bit tighter around herself, she glanced to the others, nodding once, before entering and letting the door swing shut behind her. She picked her way closer, taking in everything, listening to the redoubled whispers in her mind. A thousand questions raced through her head, one most notable: Are there others like me? It was a question she'd considered and dismissed long ago. Had she accidentally stumbled upon another afflicted by this blessing? This curse?
After a long silence, drawn longer in her own mind, Arina spoke. "We were on a job," she stated, standing off to the side of the old man's seat. No need to give too many details about the Club's business, it wasn't really relevant to what this stranger needed to know. "We all seemed to receive a vision of sorts--all of us Gales, I don't think Denil saw it--and woke up several days later out here. Couldn't remember the last few days before that ourselves. Ecta--the halfling--didn't wake up when the rest of us did. She still hasn't woken up. Denil said you could help." She paused once more before deciding not to mention the strange being they'd encountered when they awoke. Again, it had no bearing on Ecta's condition, as far as she could tell.
The silence lingered for another moment, and Arina reached out a hand to one of the more well-formed apparitions floating around the room, and a chill ran up her arm. "The spirits," she asked quietly. "You see them too?"
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:16 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
The old man rocked in his chair as he stuffed strange herbs, which was certainly not tobacco, within an oddly shaped pipe. He nodded as the woman finished her abridged recounting. "...The halfling then? Don't fret over that one, she'll be fine. Unfortunately, she cannot wake til she wakes herself. You can leave her with me." He lifted a finger to the edge of his pipe and the contents sparked to life, the use of a cantrip wasn't odd of course, but the spell itself was. There was no somatic or verbal component, and the light of the fire's glow burned with a deep purple and black. [Knowledge (Abstract) - DC10: Failed]
She knew no name for a flame which acted in such as way. The herbs did not produce smoke nor burn, but rather seemed to glow, enveloped by the light. The leaves appeared to harden and grow transparent, as if slowly calcifying and becoming crystal. "I'd be more concerned for your friend, the witch. Playing with forces beyond her control while you're not looking is in poor taste." He brought the pipe to eye level, the wood had turned as clear as glass, he inspected the contents before turning the device around and taking a deep draw. He breathed out a puff of glittering light, like a nebulous cloud of infinitesimal stars. "Denil didn't bring you here for the shorty, I might not like the fool, but he's not completely daft. He saw something... and it scared him. That's why you're here." His gaze seemed to drift to the shadowy figure at Arina's side, he ignored the question she posed, but his dead steely gaze spoke volumes. "They spoke on your behalf. I've tended to these children for many years, but never have they shown a semblance of what you might call empathy. Not all who dwell between were once living, some even fear it. The weight of mortality." He scratched his bearded chin in contemplation, "I've tended to the young ones, as I have an accord with the Guardian of E'Auldordun. The master of the Guardians, a powerful creature named Wenyri. He comes every few years to ferry these children to their home within his world." He paused, shifting his gaze back at the woman, "I'm telling you this, because you need to understand. Understand they are neither ghosts nor of the spirits you can name. They have no attachment to you, yet they spoke for you. Now they can never return to their home."
He took another puff from the unusual pipe, "You're haunted, but not in a conventional sense. Every creature who remains bound to the natural order of their world, is tied to it, literally. An essence of a sort, an energy links us all together; you, me... them. Before the Long Night, that was just a common belief among many spiritual sorts. Since the world changed, those beliefs had been revealed to some. We are each tied to that something, that balance, a grand web of energy called the Weave. In our own world, our own universe, there was once entities - elemental forces of a primordial existence, which tended to this Weave. Likely, long before this world existed, that web weakened and atrophied. These entities which tended to it fell dormant. Now some have awoken, but abandoned their duty, losing their sense of purpose and self. They have instead grasped at our individual threads, binding themselves to the creatures to which these threads are attached for their own means. Such crestfallen existences are called Relicuum spirits... and now one such entity has bound itself to you." The man slowly rose from his chair moving off to the side. He took careful steps, avoiding all of the strange fetishes and trinkets which lay scattered about. He approached a large cupboard, placing his pipe on top of the thing. Pulling a one small door open, he removed a small wooden box. The little thing seemed unassuming enough, though the wood which it was made was burned black. He carefully opened it revealing a securely placed bead the size of a marble. "The state which you've found yourself in... is a curse, don't doubt that. But that doesn't mean that's all it has to be. This vision you spoke of... and these foolish children's action. It is an auspicious sign. Some are born into a position conductive to their purpose, and some are born with a natural affinity which threatens to tip the balance... I think you might be the later, and I think they believe it too."
He presented the box to Arina, displaying the small sphere still seated within. It looked like a fine polished marble-stone, simple and humble in design. "Wenyri spoke of it many times, that where was once a soul destined to bring balance between the realms of mortals and the Otherworlds. Perhaps it is you... or perhaps not, but the stone will find its own way. Take it. While you bear it you may receive the blessings of spirits and mortal souls alike, and to overcome your oppressor, you will need many. Aid every spirit you can, and prepare yourself to face this Relicuum while the time bought with these children's sacrifice remains..." The man placed the box down on a table before turning back around to reclaim his pipe and shuffle gingerly back over to his seat. "Wenyri should be along shortly to aid your friends..." He leaned back, closing his eyes wearily, "...I would not return to this place, but if you someday happen upon my grove, I will teach you what I can."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Aden's eyes narrowed as the door swung shut. This was not how this should have been handled. They should have all gone in. Maybe minus Denil. They should not have allowed this shaman, or whatever he was, to separate two of their members, one of which was unconscious. Arina was no slouch in a fight, but they had no information about this man. Yet she just waltzes right in without a word?
"Feliks, maybe grab some of your alchemical goodies. Just in case we need to go in."
The thief shook his head, and turned to Denil, rolling his eyes. "Some friend you got there, mate. Care to share how you know mister tall, dark, and spooky? And, more importantly, those two going to be safe in there?"
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
The sudden movement of the beast startled her, never had she seen something move that quickly moreover she was taken aback at the sudden bow that the beast gave her. Apparently being the apprentice of Adessa was a bigger boon than she had memory of, the fact that this beast knew her and paid her such respect was a painful reminder that her mind was still fragmented. As the beast spoke she began to remember, the flood of information made her mind swim as she began to understand where she was and why she was here. The knowledge of this beast caused her pain, She knew his Trueman and weave... but with it she also knew pain as the thought went through her mind. She continued to listen to the beast as it named itself along with what manner of being it was. A familiar feeling followed as it spoke, her memories reminding her of what Adessa used to call the apprentices that followed her teachings.
"As you stated, I did not mean to come here. My mind has been fragmented since I found myself in this knew world, most of my powers locked away from me. It has been an annoyance that I wish to fix by any means." Rubbing at her temples as memories once again bring pain with them, "If this is a perfect place to practice, and practice will help restore me to what I once was then I will Require you assistance in this matter. It seems like you may have an idea on how to help me with this matter, If you assist me in regaining my former powers then I will would be grateful and will remember such assistance once I have been restored."
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Know Abstracts: [roll0] or [roll1] - This is for trying to figure out more about Weaves if possible.
Know Abstracts: [roll2] or [roll3] - This will be for knowledge on what "Dalhar D'Inlé" are.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Elsewhere
12th of May, Monday - Time: 9:08 am (Morning) / AD 1952 (Spring)
Tangi'thac; The Respite
Wilting Parlor; The Streets of Quarry (Reclaimed)
The great beast grinned from ear-to-ear revealing his dreadfully polished teeth, "Yes... Of course, but take to heart that all things possess both reward and consequence. You may call upon me, but your world shall spite you for it. The Weave shall not shift its threads for you unconditionally any longer... a price must be paid. You may pay it those wretches who have forgotten their fathers, or you may pay it... to me." The last words carried a pointed tone. "Long have I refined my mastery of the Weave, honed it til I could make my changes go unnoticed by even mine own father. I could teach you... but you must understand your own place, C'nros'dalhar. You are a Witch, not a Weaver, and commanding a craft oversteps your bounds. Adessa knew this, but was sworn to The Black - not the Cycle, the Hunt, and the Balance. Like her, you will find no love from those who dwell within the Respite... you will be exiled. As you are, you carry not the sins of your master." The beast turned away towards the great gaping hole in the wall, "I will not ask you decide now, for my father will not accept you choice until you understand the decision. You must know what it is you cast aside first, and only then can it be relinquished."
The beast's head poked out of the stone building, looking on at the massive crumbling towers which distantly shown from afar. Skyscrapers of winding stone and steel, "This city, Quarry. It has always been my home. I remember when it was beautiful. These streets, these halls. They were the first things I saw when I was written." A red cloud of dust swept the city, as if fine sandstone washed over the place covering it with a thick orange haze. Even that however didn't disguise the destruction which had ravaged the place. Unrecognizable mounds of mutilated piles of flesh lay scattered about, the tanned skin of screaming faces lay plastered outside of some entrances, like mantles. The leather hides of the creatures they once belonged were covered with thick coats of fur, likely belonging to the bestial creatures who once dwelt here. "The Elil and Lapus have waged holy war upon one another for these streets for longer than most can remember... but it was ours first. In this memory of the past, we took it back... but eventually it would slip through our grasp once again. Now a Hunt must begin, as once before..." The great wolf swung its head around to eye Stella directly, "Do you understand? ...My price will not be small."
Afsppa'sol stepped out of the building, the crunch of stone underfoot sounded from his unreasonable weight, "If you come to a decision, then do not be led astray. Sixteen Speakers still stand between our worlds. Not all will wish for you to remember this, for only those of Isto'thac still honor the Mother of the Black Veil and Adessa's children. If you would follow her still, then find the Sixteenth and unbind the Dark Teller... That is my price." The otherworldly wolf vanished from sight, a lingering word left on the wind, "..Til we meet again."
Returner Potential Advancement: Mother of the Black Veil
Once a Veilwitch in another life, Stella had been sworn to She of the Black Veil. From her, the goddess which dwelt beyond the folds of creation, she drew her magic. Now she has forgotten even the meaning of her own past scarifies and the face of her ascendant mother. Bending and controlling the Weave had once been a pivotal ability and represented her own oath as a child of Adessa. Veilwitches were not mediators, nor seekers of balance. They were agents of planner creation and destruction, loyal to a will beyond comprehension to those who were uninitiated. Now she needed to rediscover that ultimate truth and learn who she truly was.
Difficulty: Challenging | Status: On-going | Time: None
Reward: Potential Advancement I
Influence: Magic, Spirits, Memory, Curse, Knowledge, Secrets
Objective: Learn the consequences of a Veilwitch's exile. Meet the 16th Speaker. (Optional: Release the Dark Teller)
Progress: (0/2)
Ͽ ◯ Ͼ
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:17 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Stella's body suddenly jerked as her mind came hammering back into the physical world. It was a strange awareness, like something beneath the surface was beginning to reawaken. She didn't understand fully what the Weave was, but she could fathom its purpose. It was a grand construct of life and creation and all things within those realms they knew as existence were tied to to it. It held what was creation together, defined it. It was the flow of energy, but she also knew that this was merely the surface of magic. Adessa had found something far more powerful, something deep and feral which stood even beyond this creative essence. So far had she fallen away from the light of those grand revelations, she could no longer even fathom just what could have dwelt beyond such a cosmic force and dwarf it so utterly. [Knowledge (Abstract) - Success]
The names which the great wolf spoke of rung with a resounding familiarity. The Otherworld which she had seen, was not decayed like this universe which she not resided. The great spirits which tended the Weave here had fallen away and lost their purpose, thus they had become Relicuum. Yet, for those of the Otherworld, they remained true to their design, they were not Relicuum - for they had not fallen. Each Relicuum once belonged to a domain which defined them, to those which came from Tangi & Isto'thac, they existed as great and terrible gods between the races of the Lapus and Elil. Each race created in their image, and born of their same desire and purpose. The Dalhar D'Inlé, represented the greatest gifts upon the Elil. Representing death and the might of the hunters who stood at the apex of their world. They were the children of death and balance, sons and daughters of the black god Inlé. Their haunt was endless, perpetuating the endless cycle of death and rebirth. Neither good, nor evil, they served only the endless Cycle which in turn purged stagnation and decay from their world. A far cry from this rotting universe thrown into disarray... [Knowledge (Abstract) - Success]
Ͽ ◯ Ͼ
Denil frowned at the scarred man, "...It's a long story, forty-years long. I''ll give you the abridged version, but the girls will be safer than we are. You can take some comfort in that." He pulled out a waterskin from the side of his massive pack, pulling off the cork and taking a long draft from the heavy leather sack. "Mave was a retainer of Lord Nevens, well, he still is - which is how we met. Before he himself earned his lordship, he served House Nevens as an advisor and court-magician during the chaos in Magnimar, before and after the Long Night. It was his research and willingness to act that allowed most of these cities to keep standing... but that's a story for another time. When I met the man, he'd already been appointed a seat within the House of Lords. I had been appointed to help him find a place called Ulbeph... That place don't exist no more. I guess the man had always had an affinity with the spirits, he is an Erutaki after all, but when we left... He was changed. He had Potentials, of the like you wouldn't believe. He could see things... Hell, he could hear things, and he could let you hear 'em too." He corked the waterskin and tied it back on his bag, "He chose a life of exile, said he was looking for something. He returns every now and then, which is never a good sign. Like some kinda bringer of ill omens. I dunno if he ever found what he was looking for, but by all accounts the geezer should be dead... He was forty years older than I am now, forty years ago. If there's a man with some damned answers to be found, it's him."
Spoiler: Rewards
Show
XP Rewards are now able to be earned:
֍ Arina XP +250
֍ Stella XP +350
֍ Aden XP +200
֍ Feliks XP +100
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks looked towards the cabin and back at Denil "First you left out why he doesn't like you. And you knew he was still alive otherwise you wouldn't have brought us here." he tilted his head, turning around to stare out at the darkness. The third thing, which Feliks didn't respond to verbally was that they were not safe. A creeping dread began to take him, though it may be just his paranoia starting to spring up. He hoped that was what it was. His hand twitched, pulling out an alchemist flask.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Paranoia roll of Perception [roll0]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:17 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
The grizzled halfling sneered at the remark offhandedly while briefly checking a time piece from his pocket. "Like I said kid... The abridged version. We've had our disagreements, I'll leave it at that." He stuffed the watch back into his heavy pocket. Feliks noticed Stella's awkward jerking first, as if she were having a fit. The strange spectacle drew a raised brow from Denil but nothing more, after all she was the 'odd-one' or so claimed the short man. He glanced at Feliks for a brief moment then back at the door with an unsettling sense of determination, "...You notice it?" He didn't at first, his eyes saw nothing out through the gloom of the forested space beyond, but the sudden realization quickly followed. That strange feeling in the back of his mind... was real. They hadn't passed any roads, nor seen anything resembling a path which might have allowed them to get back to the highway while they had been pushing through the cursed landscape. It would have been justifiably impossible to have reached it within the constrained time the Waldfrau mentioned. It almost seemed as if they had come to this place for a completely different reason than what Denil had purposed. "Sometimes you gotta take a gamble when you're against the wall, kid. Don't fret what's waiting out there, it won't make a damn bit'a difference... We've still got three minutes..." He clenched a fist and released it tensely, speaking under his breath. "...And I'm a damn fine gambler."
Spoiler: Reward
Show
֍ Feliks XP +100
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
She stood there listening to Afsppa’sol speak, the words he spoke resounding within her giving her knowledge of what she once was. She still did not remember it all but now she at least knew a bit more. If Afsppa’sol was right then she would have to pay some price to get her power back, what that price was and who she paid it to is something she would have to find out herself. Afsppa’sol was right though, she was a witch not a weaver… how this would end up getting her exiled and exactly what being exiled meant was another thing to research. Looking out over the city with Afsppa’sol she is in awe of the sheer size of the buildings, not only the size though, the sheer destruction that seemed apparent throughout it. The piles of tanned flesh unnerved her a bit, the faces of endless screaming not something she wanted to see at this time. Turning her focus back onto Afsppa’sol.
The Hunt was mentioned again by Afsppa’sol, she had been hearing being talked about if for a while now and was still curious as to what exactly The Hunt entailed. Afsppa’sol said his price would not be small, and from the sound of it that was true. She had to find the Sixteenth Speaker and unbind the Dark Teller. Both of these being were unknown to her and would take time to find out who and where they were. Was it a price she was willing to pay, to possibly carry the same sins as her master… She would think on this more and determine if it was truly worth it or if maybe there was another way to gain her powers.
Her body convulsed as her mind was thrust back into it, she collapsed to her knees as the muscles in her legs gave out from the stress caused by the spasms. The Knowledge she gained while in the other world was still with her, she understood now what the weave was she also knew that Adessa had found something more powerful. That was power that she wanted for herself, and if she had to pay Afsppa’sol’s price to get it then pay it she would. She sat there listening to the conversation that Denil and Feliks were having, this man that Denil had brought them to apparently was an Oddity. One that could be of use though if they could convince him to provide some assistance or sanctuary. Standing up she moved towards the door, random spasms still hit her muscles every so often as she found her way to it. Looking back towards Denil “I am in agreement with Feliks here… you should have told us he did not like you, could have saved us some time or perhaps we could have thought of a better way to introduce ourselves besides you being the one at the front. If this man can give us answers then it better to be gracious to him than to be an annoyance.” A frown sat on her face as she was currently very annoyed with both the spasms and that they were running out of time. Turning back to the door she reaches her hand up and knocks lightly on it, “Excuse me Sir, it is almost daybreak here and we would really love to have a safe place to wait it out. Waldfrau brought us here because Denil said you could help us out, I know you and him have had your differences but I would really appreciate it if you would assist the rest of us at least. Especially me in that regard, Denil said you know things… that you see things, I have been seeing things as well and would love it if you could help me figure more of this out.” Taking a step back from the door in case it suddenly flung open she began to look around at the surroundings while listening for anything out of the ordinary.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Perception: [roll0]
Diplo (Rolled OOC) 15
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:17 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
"Well, for the record... I use the term friend loosely. People tend not to think of me kindly." Denil spoke the last word with a shrug, as if he were bewildered as to why that could be so. That wasn't untrue though, the halfling's reputation for generally being unliked was no secret. It may not have even been an exaggeration to say the man had no friends. Knowing that, it did seem somewhat odd how no one bothered to question the unusual proposition at the time. The whole encounter was evidently not as simple as the gruff man boiled it down to be.
Watching the child-witch move towards the door his face grew more and more unsettled, but not speaking out in protest til after she'd said her piece. "Girl, aren't you supposed to be a spell-slinger of some flavor? You can't just go around speaking the names of these creatures outside protected places. They aren't cats-and-dogs, or some shambling earth elemental, their very existence causes chaos. You don't know what your carelessness can dredge up from some Offworlder's arse hole." It was a quiet almost inquisitive vocal gesture, "Hmmm..." The door which Stella stood before slowly opened, revealing on a pitch lightless space beyond the threshold. A towering figure stood motionless within, a man of an unnatural stature which dwarfed that of the old shaman they had seen.
The figure slithered forward, out from the darkness as if he moved upon some frictionless surface. The first rays of morning light illuminated his menacing face. Bleached white and fleshless, his visage was little more than an eyeless rotting skull. Black hair still limply hung from his skull and his attire was regal and crisp. A fine black suite which shown a gleam like satin, a well kept top-hat of exceptional craftsmanship sat carefully placed upon his brow. The halfling stood mouth agape, dumbfounded at the unliving creature before him. "Fawking hell, what in the gods name is that?" The skeletal man, who stood easily eight-feet tall with room to spare quickly raised a pointed finger to the air as if to interject, "No, no. Not what my good man, but -who." His voice sounded with a clarity and accent they had never heard before, for there were no native folk who hailed from the British isles. The looming skeletal man arced his back to bend himself at eye level with the witch, "Pray tell young lady... What did the Waldfrau speak of? If it is knowledge you seek, or perhaps sanctuary from coming storm - look no further. For I am both humble servant, and purveyor of means..." The last word seemed to come out like the hiss of a cunning salesman.
Denil quickly pulled himself together, "We don't know this... thing, kid. Don't believe a word it has to say. My plan will pull through, just believe in me."
Spoiler: Reward
Show
֍ Stella XP +50
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
She looked back at denil with a frown on her face, "It is truly a wonder why anyone would not think kindly of you." sarcasm dripping from her voice as she spoke to the man. Her eyes rolled as Denil chastised her for speaking Waldfrau's name, turning towards the man again a look of disgust was on her face. "Yes i am a caster of sorts, and yes normally its best not to speak names but i felt it was needed. As for their existence its possible that i might be a bit more knowledgeable on that than you are." The personal of the cheerful happy girl was gone for the moment her mind elsewhere, the worry of not finding succor to ride out the day worried her on top of the knowledge that she had recently gained. "Damn Denil and damn his annoying plan, if he wasn't completely sure that we would find safety here then he should have stated such and we could have went elsewhere and tried to find safety." She turned back to the door as it opened and was a bit surprised at the figure that revealed itself. "That is not the old man that i was trying to speak to, is this maybe what we were supposed to worry about? This day just keeps getting worse and worse." She took a step back as the figure made his way out from the door, looking the man up and down she tried to determine what he was and how best to deal with him should she need to. First though she would try and be a bit diplomatic with the being infront of her.
The man offered knowledge and sanctuary but at what cost, she would not know till she spoke with him. Denil's was right in one thing though, she did not know this being and would not trust him one bit. "She spoke of several things but those things will only be spoken about with friends. I do not know you nor do I know what exactly you are, you say that you offer knowledge and sanctuary but do not mention the cost of such services nor have you provided your name to us. This leads me to believe that you may not be trustworthy enough to be called a friend." Her eyes remained on the figure as she silently unslung her bow from her back, the gleam of stars reflect off the wood of the bow as a slight glow surrounds her "Those that are not friends could very well be enemies in this world, I would ask that you name yourself or leave us so that we may speak to the one that we came seeking." She hoped that the others got the same sense of unease that she did from this being, she prepared her self to quickly retreat away with a teleport should this being become aggressive or chooses to attack her.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Drawing bow just to be safe. Gaining a fly speed of 5ft while holding my bow.
Prep Action to use Side Step to teleport 30ft away from this being should he become aggressive or attacks me. preferably 10ft up into the air and how ever much backwards that would allow me, think its still 20ft back but doing diagonal in the air with teleport is wonky if i remember.
Know Abstract on him: [roll0] or [roll1]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina listened to the man closely, though she did not fully understand what he was saying. The Guardians, Wenyri... none of it was familiar, though she supposed this creature would be another like the Waldfrau they encountered earlier. Relicuum, though, that was a term she'd heard before--she had suspected some sort of powerful entity might have tied itself to her, more powerful than the trifling energies she dealt with normally, but she had never expected something of that scale. It would take some time to process fully. For the moment, she kept herself composed, trying not to show just how out of her depth she was. She gingerly took the stone from the box, turning it over in her fingers. Such a plain thing--weren't the great artifacts in all the old stories intricate things of gold and precious stones? Those had been the stories Ernard had liked, at least.
"Thank you," she said finally, turning back to the old shaman. "For keeping Ecta here and... and for telling me all this." She paused, searching the old man's face, wondering how much more to tell him. Denil had brought them here, presumably he wouldn't have done so if he didn't trust the man, despite the bad blood between them. "As for what we saw... it was a being of some sort, calling herself the Guardian of the Sacred Grove. She told us she would keep us safe until we left her domain. I suppose she is some relation to this... Wenyri you mentioned?"
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:17 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
If a fleshless skull could grin, then perhaps that may have been the look Stella would have described as plastered across the eerie figure's face. The skeletal man tipped his hat and bowed with a flourish, "Ah, my apologizes. I had simply assumed one... such as yourself, knew my name and thread. After all, it isn't hidden, nor masked. It's practically plastered across my face..." He gave a rasping laugh at his own joke, but it wasn't funny. "Allow me to introduce myself then. Loyal servant to the Mother of the First. Keeper & Kindler of the Tresk'ri-Chath. My name is- "
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:21 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
The looming corpse tilted his head, "Too much for your tongue then? Pitty." Something was different, something felt wrong and distorted, as if the world had been caught in a skip or bump she couldn't describe. Static. The gleaming golden threads of the Weave which she could see around her remained in place, but a blank space - an absence, where the thread simply stopped and then resumed as if it were unbroken shown on every strand she could see. "Well, if you cannon't speak my name - how about a nickname? Those are always fun, no? Hmm, how about... Skullface. Yes, I like that."
Main Quest (Calamity): A World Led To Ruin I - The Battle of Ulbeph
There were some forces which had once existed to purge the stagnant threads of the Weave, and cleanse the decay of a rotting universe, making new ground for the endless cycles of rebirth. Long has it been since those entities fell into a deathlike slumber, forgetting their own purpose. Now a rift has formed, a displacement and corruption of the the destined fates woven within the Weave - a Calamity. Forces of misfortune which never were have been born, binding themselves to the addled and misfeatured destinies of mortal souls. The world was being changed, rewritten - for the worse. A phenomenon called Divergence.
Difficulty: Lethal | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 90 days
Objective: Defeat Old King Aphlati of The Deep
Success: Calamity conquered. Divergence reset to original time.
Failure: Calamity becomes reality. Divergence becomes permanent. Main Quest Replaced.
The skeletal figure cackled, seemingly at nothing. "There now... are we not, friends? As a token of good will, I will even lend you my aid - without cost... but just this once." Stella couldn't help but remember Afsppa'sol's words when the man spoke. There was always a price. The only difference was who it was paid to.
Denil blinked, completely bewildered. He felt it. They all did. That sudden wave of darkness, like a screen of black descended upon the world and suddenly parted. To the halfling it was an alien and haunting experience that made him shudder to his bones, but it wasn't foreign to them. They knew that feeling, that complete and boundless void. For they had seen it once before, for what had seemed like an eternity. That desolate realm. That inescapable silence. The Primeval Dark.
It had only been a few brief moments they had spoken amongst one another, but now something felt wrong and polluted. A something they couldn't name, like they had forgotten a thing they knew they had to remember. It pervaded the air they breathed, the ground they stood upon and even the rapidly descending chill. From above, the sharp snap and crackle of the limbs of the tree's could be heard, it was an alarming and raucous sound which could not be ignored. It didn't take long to realize it - the mist was gone, the warmth had departed. Now a heavy dark miasma slowly descended from above. The darkwood elms canopy's froze and splintered beneath the supernatural cold. Leaves fell to the ground, stabbing into the earth, coated in ice and made ridged as stone. The short man's eyes darted about in evident confusion, "...Impossible." He was right, the death-frosts which plagued the lands further north didn't make their way down into the Hinterlands. It was a curse upon those lands which had made travel before the noonday hours impossible, least you freeze to death. It shouldn't have been possible for it to drift this far south. He desperately fumbled through his pockets and pulled out his watch once again, before hopelessly looking on at Stella. "You stupid brat.... What have you done."
Distantly, deep into the gloomy folds of the forest's shade, a sound could be heard - voices. Each moment they grew clearer, louder, rising in volume. Moans of pain and suffering, the dreadful sound of a hundred mourning voices. The cry of women weeping.
Side Quest: Flight of the Bobolyne
The deathly frost of the Uttercold descends from above, and hell awaits below. Abhorrent Veilbeasts fill the shades of the forest about them, and a dark figure smiles wickedly all the while. Has Denil's plan been foiled, was there any way out? Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it quickly.
Difficulty: Challenging | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 5 minutes
Objective: Survive.
Alternate Objective: Outlast the quest timer.
Spoiler: OOC: Influencing the World
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Your actions will have real consequences. The realm of Du'ased'taur offers the unique opportunity to interface with strange entities from another world, but some are the very essence of chaos and change, while others are something else completely. Dealing with these entities can change the entire scope of the adventure, for better or worse, but learning to deal with the denizens which stand between the mundane and eldrich worlds requires the knowledge and know-how to navigate such encounters.
Remember the first tenants of a Gale; knowledge is everything, and within the tainted lands - it is what defines the living and dead. Using the names of these creatures carelessly can bring catastrophic results to the world about you. (Rewind to the beginning, and take note of the voices who spoke very short abridged names for one another) Not every name is going to light the world on fire, but learning who or what can cause harmful side-effects will play a vital role in dealing with such creatures.
The phenomenon called 'Divergence' is a radical or drastic change in the world which will alter and/or replace the main quest line. These can always be reversed, or if they are beneficial, kept. While unintentional Divergence is usually negative, positive changes can be created as well. The changes made and how the world is effected is often a mystery unless throughly investigated prior to initiating the transition. If left as is, the change becomes permanent after a per-determined period of time, so plan carefully.
Calamity is exactly as it sounds. A Relicuum has grasped or manufactured some pre-determined fate which bodes ill for humanity, the natural order of the world, or both. If allowed to be brought into existence, it will create a Divergence - however this cannot be reversed once completed. Calamity's always come in two-parts. You'll learn more about these later. Multiple main quest lines can be created by multiple Calamity's or Divergence, so tread carefully and keep the universe spinning.
...And no, you're not all dead. But you'll have to look for a solution to your tight spot. I recommend avoid spending all your free actions talking with the reality-destroying cosmic horrors while the party is trying to work together. :smallwink:
Spoiler: Reward
Show
֍ Stella XP +100
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
She didn't like the look the skull gave her, and she was right not to. The being had spoken its name but something was wrong, she didn't hear what it had said. Everything just seemed odd, glancing around quickly she notices that the golden threads throughout the place were now different, there was a black space to them that should not have been there. This was not right, this being changed something drastically just by saying its name... She had not thought it possible that something so simple could affect the world in such a way. Looking back at the being she wonders what game this being was playing, what did he gain from doing such a thing. It spoke again claiming that they were now friends, it claimed that it would lend them its aid without cost. Such a thing could not be true, everything had a cost, Afsppa'sol had said so himself that there was always a price to be paid. She hoped that this price was not to hefty of one as she had no way to stop whatever aid this being was forcing on them.
She felt it like the rest, the sudden darkness befalling this world before parting. The odd feeling permeated the air around her sending a chill throughout her being. Looking around she notices that the mist had vanished, the warmth had left the world once again. She watched helplessly as the leaves fell from the trees to stab into the earth, it was here again the dreaded cold that consumed all. She looked back at Denil a look of worry on her face, "All I did was ask his name, you said not to trust him in the first place... I did not see the harm in such a simple thing considering the others had been stating their names out loud." Looking back to Skullface, "A name doesn't make us friends just acquaintances, Friends wouldn't bring this death upon one another. If you were to return everything to how it was then we could possibly be friends but as it stands we are not." She started to hear them, the moans in the forest as the creatures made there way towards them. She had to act fast lest she die to them or the cold, her mind raced trying to think what could help them. "Denil, I will have to turn to your knowledge now on this. I have never been caught outside during this time so I am unsure what actions would be best for now. I also would like to apologize for my actions and attitude, with all that has been happening I have been a bit overwhelmed and have lost myself to it. You tell me what to do to survive this and make it all right, I will follow your word to the letter on if it gets us through this." Fear was evident in her voice as she hurriedly spoke to Denil.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Both of these are to try and figure out how to survive what is coming...
Know Primal: [roll0]
Know Abstract: [roll1] or [roll2]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:22 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
The old man nodded at Arina "Yes, Wenyri is head among the Guardians, he keeps them loyal and focused to their tasks. That primarily being maintaining the Balance and natural order between our worlds- "
Main Quest (Calamity): A World Led To Ruin I - The Battle of Ulbeph
There were some forces which had once existed to purge the stagnant threads of the Weave, and cleanse the decay of a rotting universe, making new ground for the endless cycles of rebirth. Long has it been since those entities fell into a deathlike slumber, forgetting their own purpose. Now a rift has formed, a displacement and corruption of the the destined fates woven within the Weave - a Calamity. Forces of misfortune which never were have been born, binding themselves to the addled and misfeatured destinies of mortal souls. The world was being changed, rewritten - for the worse. A phenomenon called Divergence.
Difficulty: Lethal | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 90 days
Objective: Defeat Old King Aphlati of The Deep
Success: Calamity conquered. Divergence reset to original time.
Failure: Calamity becomes reality. Divergence becomes permanent. Main Quest Replaced.
The words were cut short, the sudden wave of darkness blotting out the world, then vanishing without a trace. The eerie sense of displacement lingered in its wake. The old man sprang upright, eyes wide with a fearful awareness, "No... Not again..." The old man shook his head in disbelief. "Some idiot is ruining everything." He sharply turned to Arina with a spiteful glare, "Don't you become like these fools, ever. The Guardians are different, but you must never carelessly speak the names of the entities which linger between our worlds. Those are the names which identify their purpose, their existence within the Weave. Even if they have forgotten, their names have not. If you've the gift, you threaten to corrupt them and twist them out of line. If you do not understand the forces you encounter, then let them be." From outside the thundering sound of shattering limbs could be heard distantly, an unsettling racket that invaded the calm and quiet of the magical hut's interior. "Ugh.." The old man staggered backwards clutching his ears in pain, as if something else were piercing his senses.
He fumbled about, stepping and breaking the small fetishes and toys which littered the ground, using a freehand to steady himself and follow the wall. "Something is wrong, she's confused." He grasped an old staff from the wall, "If what you say is so, then the Waldfrau will not come to our aid. She must have expended her energy in guiding you, and now she rests. You must help me, we must delay the spirit of the Frozen Eternal until Wenyri comes. While confused she will not listen to reason, she seeks to destroy the source of this corruption..." He extended the large staff of bone at the woman, charms and strange seals of an otherworldly design lay burned upon every corner of its surface. It almost looked like the head of a great elk with small crystals hanging from it, but the horns curved upwards and towards one another closely. "Go on. Take it. Focus and attune to it's magic, calm your mind and command it. When you are ready speak its name..."
Spoiler: The Staff: Elahkhuur, The Spirit Song
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Attuning: Succeed a DC20 Spellcraft or UMD check.
This check receives a +4 bonus from Mave's aid.
Side Quest: Flight of the Bobolyne
The deathly frost of the Uttercold descends from above, and hell awaits below. Abhorrent Veilbeasts fill the shades of the forest about them, and a dark figure smiles wickedly all the while. Has Denil's plan been foiled, was there any way out? Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it quickly.
Difficulty: Challenging | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 5 minutes
Objective: Survive.
Alternate Objective: Outlast the quest timer. 1/5
Denil's face rested squarely in his large sweaty palm for a moment, trying to reel himself back in. She's fifteen. She's fifteen. He repeated the mantra once more for good measure. He'd put a bullet in the back of men's head for less in darker days, but he wasn't Captain Damn anymore. That man had died with the memories he made great efforts to forget. He took a deep breath. "Kid... I haven't the slightest how you've survived this long. I've come to Point 19 on more than one occasion - it's the only safe space within the Gap before the fifth bell. This kinda sheit doesn't happen, because these things don't just tell anyone their names. Hell, they'd barely even talk to ya on a good day. At least that's what I thought til I came with Weiss. They'll chat ya up if you're one of them, or one of her folk." He shook a finger berating the girl, "If you have no idea what the hell you're doing, then don't screw with it. It isn't Skullface's fault sheit's going sideways." The skeleton leaned down to add his two cents, "He's right you know, you don't blame the knife when you cut your finger. Actually, I had thought you'd had that under control since you asked..." He spoke the last bit under his breath, but it was still perfectly audible. The halfling pointed his already reproaching finger at the skull-man next, "...And you, shut up. I'm not taking your side, you've caused enough trouble." The haunting figure grinned his rotting toothless grin, "I think I like the short-man."
Denil crossed his arms, "If you want to fix this, you'll listen here. Weiss didn't tell me the finer details of how all this nonsense works, but I know enough. Whatever kinda spirit-thing Skull is, he can't make a damn bit'a difference without someone like you as an intermediary. If he's ain't taxing you, then you'll just have to accept whatever hate-energy crap that makes the world want to punch you in the face." "Spite." "Sure." "Who's Weiss?" "Shut up, bone face. You get it kid? As long as you don't get burned, or whatever they call it, you can still get rid of that hate-energy stuff on your own time. But right now, we need some spirit-monster help. That..." He pointed at the slowly descending black haze which was flash freezing everything it touched. "Leave that to Mave, I'm sure he's got a plan. We ain't going to all make it out in once piece if we try to make a run for it, better off waiting for a Guardian to fix this mess for us."
Spoiler: Rewards
Show
֍ Stella XP +100
֍ Arina XP +150
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
"Others? Hell's Bells Stella, what others? Have their been more weird spirit things besides the owl lady and old bag of bones here?" Aden slipped his spear from its sling, dropping into a ready stance, his eyes trained on the skeletal interloper. "Never mind. Never mind. We'll talk about that later. Feliks, we need all the fire you've got. Anything to stay warm. You too Stella, if you've got magic that'll help things burn.
Denil, everything useful you know about Uttercold would be appreciated."
Aden was doing his best to remain calm, to try and think of a way out of the situation he found himself in. He wasn't skilled in magic things, but even he could tell something was wrong. Well, besides skeleton men appearing through doorways. He could feel the world fraying at the edges, as though something were ripping pieces off and putting something else in their place. Figures. After everything he'd been through, every awful thing he'd survived, he would die here, on his first mission as a full-fledged Gale, because of something he couldn't even meaningfully interact with.
It was enough to give a man conniptions.
Then Denil spoke. And a soft sigh escaped Aden's lips. Spite, eh? Universal hate-energy, eh?
"Does it have to be her? Does it have to be someone with magic? Or can anyone take the...Spite? Because if it can fix whatever the hell is going on, I have absolutely no issue with the universe hating me a little more. Already hates me enough as it is."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
She shrunk back into herself as Denil berate her for the mess they were now in, he had been right about a lot of things. She had started to get ahead of herself, the return of some of her memories had thrown her mind for a loop and she wasn’t thinking straight anymore. Muttering under her breath “Well seems they like telling me their names… probably cause of what I am.” She furrowed her brows at Skullface, Denil and him were right this was her fault but it could have been avoided if Skullface hadn’t chosen to screw it all up. If the being had known that its name would cause such issues then it should have just kept silent about it. She thought hard on what Denil said, she could take on this Spite and hope that somehow that fixes it and doesn’t make it work. She still wasn't sure what Spite was and for a moment her mind wandered as she thought on it. One thing she did know though, her and Weiss were going to have a very long talk once they see each other again.
Looking over at Aden as he spoke to her, she starts to fidget with her bow a bit “Umm well besides the two stated, there were the other voices that spoke before we fully woke up… then there was the large wolf I met a few moments before I knocked on the door… The voices had been throwing around names a lot and Waldf… I mean the Owl lady gave us her name so I thought it was alright. The wolf gave me his as well… but I kinda knew him already so that might not count. As for magic to make things burn, while I do know some spells that do that I didn’t prepare any of them today… I do have my arrows that can cause fireballs but I doubt we want to stand within them while they go off. Besides its something powerful that is causing this cold, I don’t think that just burning some stuff will help us survive this thought I could be wrong.” As Aden spoke up saying that he would take on the Spite she was a bit hopeful that it would work, though she still wondered if it had to be someone like herself that had to take it on. Looking up towards Skullface, "Would that work? If Aden took on some of this Spite would that fix what has happened?"
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Know Abstracts: [roll0] or [roll1] (For knowledge about what spite is and how it can affect stuff)
Know Abstracts: [roll2] or [roll3] (To see if it has to be her to take spite or if others could possibly take it)
Know Nature: [roll4] (To see if being surrounded by fire or setting the forest on fire could at all help)
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Flekis sighed long and hard. This was the problem with magic, it was insanity. You do the same thing over and over not expecting a different result, and suddenly you're calling down ice from the skies. It would be down too soon, preventing him from using a few of his items due to the medical procedures taking far too long.
Still, he was not a person who would just crawl around on the ground, as he pulls out a heat stone in his other hand, adjusting the shield scone and the torch within. He didn't activate it yet, as he wasn't entirely sure what was going on himself. But the skeleton thing seemed to just be a spook like the creepy owl lady. Around, but not particularly dangerous unless provoked.
Part of this seemed to be a much slower use of one of his own rarely used alchemical weapons, Perfect Ice. Thought it wasn't like they could make all the water in their body just disappear. "We need to keep her warm at least."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:23 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Side Quest: Flight of the Bobolyne
The deathly frost of the Uttercold descends from above, and hell awaits below. Abhorrent Veilbeasts fill the shades of the forest about them, and a dark figure smiles wickedly all the while. Has Denil's plan been foiled, was there any way out? Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it quickly.
Difficulty: Challenging | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 5 minutes
Objective: Survive.
Alternate Objective: Outlast the quest timer. 2/5
The short man was busy digging through his massive sack, placing the thing on the ground and having to climb upon it just to reach its deeper levels. He glanced at Aden absently, "I'll spare you the theatrics. The Uttercold is apparently a place according to... a friend. Whatever curse you find on the lands in the north seems to tie that place to it - think of it like an Offworld, cept it exists to murder you. Apparently some ghost or something rules those frozen wastes... and it's the only resident. It might be chilly, but that black-mist is what's the real problem. That crap don't just give you some frostburn, it literally sucks the life from you and replaces tangible bits with crystallized sculptures, just as a souvenir. It'll fawk up ol' Bone-face just as readily as it would you. Which is why the freezing bit less of a concern than the horrifying soul-devouring portion. It'll take a good while before it comes down, buuuut.... I'd still avoid touching it." He pulled out a large umbrella covered with sheets of waxed paper. He carefully peeled off the paper cover revealing a strange slimy film coating the parasol's yellowish rubbered exterior. "Quite informed for a human." "I'm'a Halfling." "...What's that?" Denil ignored the curious spirit's question, pausing at the scarred man's last question. "...I honestly have no idea if just anyone can take on this Spite-stuff. Don't even know much about it, cept it's not very good for witches to take on too much of it." He eyed the skeletal man "...But I know who would have an answer to that."
Stella didn't know much about Spite except for the basics, but she knew even less about fire's utility when dealing with magical cold. Spite was more often than not thought of negatively by witches, but not all of them. To those who were victim, it was a source of constant misfortune and harm. The natural flow of the world seemed to run against those inflicted by an abundance of it. Those who consorted with such otherworldly entities even risked the chance of attracting malicious ones who disrupted their thread within the Weave. Yet, others seemed to use it differently, as if it were a combustible fuel. The finer details of its nature and workers were something else all together, and as she was, it was completely beyond her understanding. [Knowledge Abstract - Success]
The towering ghastly man raised a hand interpose upon the discussion of Spite, "No, no. You must understand. Being Spited and accepting Spite are not the same things. Anyone can be made a victim, but only Witches can pay the world's tax..." His hand drifted out into an accusatory bony finger, pointing at Aden "...Except you. Rarely. Almost never, exist there souls such as you. Born, and hated by your own world so. Detested. Cursed. Magnificent. Perhaps not in another, but this world would accept your self-harm. Such burden would be far unlike those others who would pay. It would be... dare I say, unbearable. Yet, you were born to suffer. It hardens you. Tempers you, makes you stronger... Such is the fate of the souls kindled by my flames."
The Cursed Potential Advancement: Versus the World
Some were simply born under an unfortunate star, but that was not you. Something lingered from another time, perhaps another life, what wrongs you had committed to spite the world so has culminated into this wretched and miserable life. Was this karmic justice? Were you so despised by some faceless god, some cosmic arbiter of existence? If you were, if that god truly existed - you'd spit in his eye. You have been made to suffer like no man should, but you remained unbroken. An awareness choked the mind, and clouded every thought. Somewhere, buried deep beneath the scars, beneath the agony and endless suffering was the strength to change it. To take back everything stripped from you, every joy, every love and every hour denied. The strength to make right every grievance.
Difficulty: Lethal | Status: On-going | Time: None
Prerequisite: Gain access to Spite (Cleared)
Reward: Potential Advancement. 'Revenge' is added to the character's list of Potential Influences.
Influence: Curse, Pain, Truth, Fortune, Misfortune
Objective: Survive for 24 hours with 10 points of Spite
Progress: (0/10)
The walking corpse grinned at Feliks, "Or perhaps not?" He Lifted his hands, humming rectangles of paper-thin flame formed and hardened into sheets of orange-crimson light. "The flame is ever neutral, and uncaring. With the same hand it blights, so too does it bless. Which the same hand it steals, it provides. Just this once, I ask no price... for a friend. Yes, a tax must still be paid, but not to me..." He shuffled the array of gleaming glass-like fire-made-manifest before sharply pulling a handful of the tokens from the lot. He held them like a man about to show a magic trick, pressing the back of his hand against his chest to display the blank faces of the devices. "What I offer... is chance. The chance to change it all, the chance to take it all back, a chance to live..." He released the hand of cards to let them float above his own macabre palm, there were six. "Normally, there are risks. Normally, there are rules. Normally... there is a game... but this time, you draw for free. The flame has agreed to these generous terms, rejoice." He presented the cards before them, "These terms are good only this once, for one of you. Whoever would pay to this world, take a card. There are six, in no particular order. In a game, it is not my place to know what lay upon them, but this time is different - so I shall tell you." He carelessly shuffled the floating tokens above his hand with the movements of his inhumanly long bony fingers. "One corrects both present and past. One returns something precious. One takes. One provides. One protects... and One creates. Hark, pay mind these words well mortals. My only warning to you, is this. Blessings and curses are not always different, nor is change always welcome. The flame knows no kindness nor evil, it simply is. This choice is yours to make, but every choice; yours or mine, now or later... brings consequence."
Spoiler: Rewards
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֍ Stella XP +200 + 50 XP (Skill Checks)
֍ Aden XP +250 + Potential Advancement
֍ Feliks XP +200
If someone is drawing a card roll 1d6.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
Her brows furrowed as she listened to Denil speak about the Uttercold, his words caused her to worry more about the situation they were in. A Soul devouring mist descending from the sky’s was not something she had ever thought about nor was it something she was ready for. Denil didn’t have the information about spite that she had been wondering on, she knew a small bit of it herself but even that knowledge was limited. Luckily there was one being here that knew a lot about spite, listening intently to Skullface talk about spite and the fact that Aden was special in some way made her worry that if Aden accepted the spite that he might not be able to get rid of it as easily as she could. Being a Witch had its advantages in the fact that she could accept the spite and already knew that there were ways to get rid of it, she did not know these ways but the fact that they existed and were known by some was something that she could rely on.
Her eyes opened wide at the sight of the cards, she listened as Skullface explained that he would ask no price for this offer but that a tax would still be incurred but for him to do this for them could make him a Friend of sorts. If he was willing to do this for them then maybe he wasn’t that bad of a being after all, though the choice he was giving them still had risk it was better than nothing at all. Skullface kept mentioning The Flame, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a being that he spoke of or just the power that was in use. She watched and waited as the cards were shuffled, Skullface began to explain what options the cards would provide. Tilting her head as he spoke what they did she wondered which ones were actually bad as only one or possibly two sounded as if they could cause a problem. Looking towards the others with a slight smile on her face, “Well sounds like a decent enough deal to me, I am willing to take one of the cards and pay the World Tax that is needed. I would say that Aden could do it if he wanted to but I feel it may be safer for me to do it since I am unsure if he could get rid of the Spite in the same way that I possibly could. From what he told us it sounds like most of the cards could be more beneficial than a curse, so I feel the risk is worth the chance at the reward.” Looking back towards the cards she slowly reaches her hand out to pluck one from the air.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Lets get to the fun stuff,
Firstly a Know Abstracts for what this Flame is that keeps being mentioned.
[roll0] or [roll1]
And now for the Card... Since the way everything works someone could still stop me from snaggin one but hopefully it all works out.
[roll2]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
"Your flames?"
Aden could feel the scars covering his left arm sing in resonance with the cards the spirit materialized. The flame within his own flesh danced, roiled, and raged, yearning, begging for Aden to accept more. It was painful, yes, but painful in the aching way of a limb long cut away. Or of a piece of your heart having been stolen. A hole that needed filling. Stella was saying something, but Aden wasn't paying attention. The pain, the adrenaline drew too much of his focus, his vision growing black around the edges. Unbidden, an old memory springs to Aden's mind.
_______________________
It is raining. The roof's had holes in it for years now, soaking the small room they all slept in. Aden held up the couple blankets the group of children had, trying to shield them from the worst of the chilling rain. Mostly futile, but they would sleep a little easier for his efforts.
A wet cloth smacks Aden in the face, and a rough guffaw comes from the doorway. "You're an idiot, you know that boy?"
Aden grits his teeth, and tries to ignore the man standing in the doorway. Oscar McNeil comes and squats down in front of the young boy, a cruel sneer on his face. "You think it matters? You can fight all you like, but in the morning they'll still be freezing and soaked. It's a pretty gesture, but it don't mean nothing."
"Shut up."
"Oh, putting your big boy pants on are you? Gonna stand up to your old man, are you? Big, mean old Oscar, what makes sure you lot don't get sold into slavery, or just offed by some Shiver addict with nothing to lose? How awful of me. Tell you what, brat. Get me the money to fix the roof, and I'll fix it, yeah? Do something useful, instead of being a useless do nothing, holding up some blankets to make yourself feel better."
Even through the rain, Aden's tears were clearly visible. "I hate you."
"Good. That fire you feel right now? Hold onto it. It'll make you strong boy. Nothing to get you through a bad spot like good old fashioned hate and spite. Love, family, affection, it's all lies. These brats around you will stab you in the back one day, if they get the chance. Doesn't matter what you do for them. Look out for yourself. No one else will. Hate the world. It already hates you."
_______________________
Little bits of cursefire licked Aden's free hand as he reached out, almost without thinking, and plucked a card from the spirit's hands. "Like dear old dad says. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Spoiler: OoC
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Aden's Dex is higher than Stella's, but his Initiative is lower. I'll roll a Dex check, just in case it's called for. But Aden's meant for this, I can feel it.
Dex Check/Initiative - [roll0]
Pick a Card, Any Card - [roll1]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina took the staff somewhat gingerly from the old man, cursing quietly at the events rapidly spiraling out of control. What in all the nine Hells were they getting up to out there? Regardless, it couldn't be good. She studied the odd sigils and charms adorning it, doing her best to focus, to latch onto the magic flowing about the staff, to clear her mind of the whispers--by the gods, the whispers. They were near deafening in her adrenaline-fueled state. She was used to embracing them, bending them to her will in times like this, but now they made it near impossible to focus on anything else. "Are you sure there's nothing else I can do? she asked. "I'm not very good with... well... magical things." Nevertheless, she did her best to channel her focus, her energy, toward the staff's magic. She couldn't drown the whispers, but she did her best to listen to the ones which might help rather than hinder her.
Despite the distractions, despite the fact that she only performed "magic" by roping other entities into doing it for her, she felt the strings of power around the object, and began teasing them out. She whispered the name Mave had given, softly, tenatively... and felt some kind of connection begin to form. "I think I've got it," she told the shaman, eyes snapping back open.
Spoiler: OOC
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Whoo, that Magically Inept drawback already coming around to bite me! While I've got a lot of options for boosting knowledges and the like, I can't find anything that will help me on a Spellcraft check. So here goes:
[roll0]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks sighed watching the others take a card. He could feel a small twinge in his hand, but it remained largely uninterested itself as well. He kept his distance, and silence looking out into the mist, frowning. They were going to need at least someone to not do.. all this weird stuff they were already doing. Going into houses of people, talking to skeletons, taking magic cards and whatever this spite stuff was, and most importantly staying passed out due to whatever took them to begin with.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
24th of Abadius, Sunday - Time: 5:24 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Winter)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
The Gap; Point 19: The Sacred Grove
Side Quest: Flight of the Bobolyne
The deathly frost of the Uttercold descends from above, and hell awaits below. Abhorrent Veilbeasts fill the shades of the forest about them, and a dark figure smiles wickedly all the while. Has Denil's plan been foiled, was there any way out? Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it quickly.
Difficulty: Easy | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 5 minutes
Objective: Survive.
Alternate Objective: Outlast the quest timer. 3/5
The Haunted
The old shaman grinned in a barely contained smile. "That's it, you've done it. The staff holds far more power than you can control, but it should aid you in doing what others cannot." The chill beginning to seep into the room was immediately pushed away as the mental link between Arina and the ancient weapon was established. "There are many dormant spirits which have fallen to this world and been sealed. These sealed souls are called N'rieth'athiyk. It is a deathlike state for those spirits sealed, and to such creatures it is the closest which they can ever come to understanding the deceased and the eternal reprise of mortal souls. The greater spirits hold a fear of becoming N'rieth'athiyk more than anything else. To wield them is a macabre and grotesque gesture, like unearthing and defiling a cadaver. Yet, the ability to awaken the Sealed is a taboo with no mortal equivalent. Not even the foul spells of necromancy hold comparison. It is unnatural, frightening and recognized by those natural forces of creation. The world will attempt to twist and manipulate you, to make you fit into one of its molds in attempt to translate your existence. For as long as you stand above it, you will hold sway to guide it, but the moment you relinquish that strength, you shall be slave to its designs. Such is the might you possess. Employ the knowledge of the Sealed, the Guardians who would stand beside you and the Speakers who would train you. Trust no other readily. Educate yourself and make no decision hastily or risk deceit." The old man signed heavily, finding a comforting position to sit within his large chair. After a moment, the staff faded and vanished into nothingness. "You will need to find other Sealed. When you have become capable of employing all of the abilities of a vessel, the N'rieth'athiyk will revive. That is all I can tell you now... It seems our time has come to an end."
Spoiler: Potential Gained - The Haunted
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Elahkhuur, The Spirit Song: Staff of the Wheel & Council
Here, these words filled the mind. Elahkhuur, everblooming. Elahkhuur, who smiles forever. Eternal spring. With song upon lips. Who quiets all storm. As tales had spoken, once the Wheel of Sun and Moon lay broken. Sol burned with fury, and Lunas wept in rage. Day turned upon night. Inlé bared his teeth, and Lord Frith raised his voice. Elahkhuur looked on at the destruction, turning gaze to Owsla speaking thus. "Why must they fight so". Blessed Owsla, who was The First, smiled at Elahkhuur, "Without Wheel and balance, they know not peace. It has left for answer." The words sung upon every tongue. Elil and Lapus sharing hymn; Is there something to gain, a reason ordained - We must know! Elahkhuur tore off finger from hand. "If there is no today, I shall be tomorrow. What lay broken, now mended." Elahkhuur cast flesh to earth. From it a great tree of bone sprung from dirt. Beneath its boughs day and night were brought low, forced to unwelcome council. Inlé returned the light he had stolen, thus Frith relinquished the gift of dreams. And all were whole.
Benefit: You may summon the Staff of the Wheel & Council as a move action, additionally you gain Knowledge (Abstract) as a class skill. Maintaining the staff's form requires great focus, thus any use of the staff and maintaining it for a round after the first requires an attunement check. The base DC to attune to the staff is DC 20, the wielder of the staff may use either their bonus from Spellcraft or Use Magic Device, whichever is higher. The wielder must succeed concentration checks as if casting a spell while the staff is summoned. Failing an attunement check causes the staff to immediately vanish, causing any actions with the device to fail. While summoned the staff functions as a +5 holy quarterstaff of ghost touch, spirits struck by the staff may potentially be slain or dismissed upon a successful attack; this chance is random. The staff also possesses a number of functions:
✦ (Banish Greater Spirits)
Attunement Check: DC 20 + 1/2 CR of target
You may spend a full round action to attempt to banish a Praeter or Relicuum spirit, even if you do not know that spirit's name or banishing ritual. To banish a greater spirit you must succeed an opposed Knowledge (Abstract) check, however you receive a +40 circumstance bonus to this attempt. Upon success the greater spirit is banished and may not attempt to return for 2d12 hours.
✦ (Cleanse Lesser Spirits)
Attunement Check: DC 25 - wisdom of target
Once a week you may spend an hour in ritual prayer with another creature, during this period you do not need to continuously attempt to re-attune with the staff. If this period of prayer is disrupted than the ritual fails and may not be attempted again for another week. Upon completing this period of prayer, you must succeed a will save equal to DC 10 + CR of target. If successful, the creature is purged of 1d2 points of Spite even if branded.
✦ (Word of The First - Departure)
Attunement Check: DC 45
This ability may only be used by spending one point of Ascension. If the wielder does not possess an Ascension pool, this ability is not available. Upon activation the wielder is made aware of all greater spirits influencing themselves, an area of any size, or target of their choice. The name of each greater spirit and their influence is revealed to you. Of those spirits identified you may choose to banish one with no save provided. Spirits banished in such a way may not attempt to return for 5d6 years.
✦ (Call Council)
Attunement Check: DC 20
Once a month this ability may be used. The wielder may plant the staff firmly into a field of fertile earth with 5 minutes of work, or 1 minute with the appropriate tools. Upon completing this ritual, a Council is called, forcing all greater spirits currently holding influence to attend. Spirits called to Council cannot take hostile action towards you or your allies, directly or indirectly, and must cease all other affairs. The Council lasts as long as the wielder maintains attunement, however only their base check is used for attunement checks while using this ability. Bonuses provided by tools and magic are not applied to attunement, nor can others attempt to assist with these checks. Each spirits in attendance may choose to increase the DC of these checks by 1 each round.
The Gales
The black mist violently parted above, as if cast aside by a violent explosive wind. Denil nodded with a knowing smirk, "That'll do..." The short man glanced at Feliks, "At least one of ya has some wits about you." The short man looked back the the two standing before the towering skeleton, who hunched over like a living arc of bones, his spine far longer than any mans. "Now hurry up and decide who's taking the damned- ...What are ya' doin'!?" Denil explained with a tone of surprise. Both Aden and Stella went for the hand of suspended burning cards at the same time in a frantic dash that made the gloomy spirit burst into laughter.
The burning man only found an empty hand and the looming haunt grasping his wrist - all too real. "Not this time boy..." Aden could feel something beneath his skin, crawling. An itch and heat, like something was seeping into his veins. "You saw it, didn't you. A reflection in your own fire. That pain doesn't belong to me, or anyone else." The rotting hand released its grasp, a print of burned flesh was left where he had been touched, yet there was no pain. No pain at all. Anywhere. "Sometimes the burning reminds us. Of the things we choose to remember, the things we can't forget. Sometimes the hurt becomes the largest badge we wear, and we forget the truth... This suffering was never our own, it is a torment inflicted upon you. Anguish. A curse, and any time you forget that... they'll remind you, but that is the will of another - not the sparks." The blackfire which he had already called smoldered and intensified, wreathing him in a transparent blaze. He could feel something changing, "The cards chose her, but the flame chose you. Now find the strength to bear it." The unearthly inferno's dance raged then flickered and died. There was an absence in the flame's place, something he might have even forgotten - repose. A sense of painlessness shivered its way from his fingertips to his nose and rested below his eye lids with a burdensome weight. He felt... numb.
Spoiler: Potential Gained - The Cursed
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Cursefire Training I: Reforged
The world has never done you a kindness. You haven't lived, you survived. Clawing through the dirt, made to live like an animal, you've dragged your self up from the filth, the rot and the pain. It's hardened you. Filled your heart with flame. Forged you into something stronger... stranger. The pain of the flame has made you numb in part, or perhaps you've suffered for so long pain has begun to loose its meaning. Perhaps you'd never know, but the result made you capable of withstanding wounds which could cripple lesser men.
Benefit: Your constitution increases by 8 and you now stabilize automatically when your hp drops below 0. While unconscious from negative hit points, you may attempt an additional save to regain consciousness once every 1d10 rounds. Due to your numbed sense of pain wounds have becomes less troublesome; you gain DR 5/bludgeoning, fire resist 5, and Curefire Resist 1 which reduces the profane damage you would suffer from sources of Cursefire by 1 point (minimum 0). If you already possess Curefire Resist, your resistance increases by 1.
Stella snatched a card from the air with a staggering agility. The flaming token cooled in her hand, it's face filling with an image as the glassy substance slowly become a worn and rough cut of vellum. Skullface leaned over her shoulder to look upon the parchment's design, his face practically resting next to her own to speak into her ear. "Well now, that's quite fortunate. 'Night for Day' - One corrects both present and past. Aren't you fortunate." Standing straight, the skeleton resumed it's full height once again, clapping his hands sharply twice. "Mistress, as you've seen, the witch has drawn. Her payment fulfilled. Now in accordance with my contract, I fulfill my oath and honor this accord." Skullface looked down at the short witch who still stood clutching the card, "Do try to not loose that, it's more valuable than you know. However, next we meet I'm afraid I'll have to demand a price. Don't fret, I'm always willing to consider a trade to reclaim my cards." The skeleton tipped his hat, "Til we meet again, C'nros'dalhar."
It was the the Autumn Equinox, to some, the most blessed day of the year. All about Varisia celebrations celebrating the sacred day of Desna had begun, but despite it's modest size, none were more fervent than the festivities choking the bustling streets of Sandpoint. Though barely worth note with its short history, the Light of the Lost Coast was well known for its prowess in hosting such celebrations - none moreso than the Swallowtail Release. Mayor Devern had made great efforts to ensure that her town was busier than ever and filled with laughter. The events of the 'late unpleasentness' were still fresh in her people's minds. They didn't speak of it with outsiders, but whispers of a serial killer on the streets of the port city had slowly made their way south as far as Magnimar. To make matters worse, her beleaguered people had suffered though the seven days of endless nightfall which the Society was beginning to call the Long Night not even three months ago. Spirits had been lower than ever, they needed this, she needed this.
22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:09 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square
The day had begun with a blessing of the town's newly rebuilt church. In the chaos of the events which had been sweeping the town, it had been another victim. The building had been caught in a disastrous fire which burned down the old church, now their most auspicious day also served as the morning which its steeples were consecrated. The sun had begun to shine on Sandpoint's citizens once again. Men and women of all ages celebrated in the streets and town square with great fervor, as if a weight had been lifted from their downtrodden shoulders. Stalls of every variety market the square, both the towns own establishments and more foreign faces provided food and drink without cost. Throughout the events, ceremony occasionally takes the stage as familiar figures from the town's most powerful families would step to the podium to deliver a speech. It can barely be heard above the mirth and cheers of the merrymaking folk enjoying the festival.
The mixture of random furniture which littered the square was of every age and quality, seemingly donated temporarily from the various eateries around the town just for this day. The Gale's caravan of wagons sat securely tucked away off the site of the street, but still within line of sight of throng of peoples. Numerous cooks were working hard preparing the food at various stalls and grills. A constant flux and shift of wagons and carts filled with foodstuffs moved through the crowd. The crowd moved and pulsed like a living thing, a loud and chaotic beast. From the stage they could see the mayor, Kendra Devern shaking Affri Rello's hand.
Side-Quest: The Rat of Korvosa
Mastil Pebeltin has gone missing. Likely abducted by the Rello family, the man has a great deal of enemies in Varisia among every Sczarni faction. Still the man was paying well, despite his underhanded methods. You were fortunate to have come to terms with Lady Rello before this mess got out of hand, or you may have bitten off more than you could chew. Saving Pebeltin would bring greater profit, but sour relations with the Sczarni - while meeting with the Rello family and concluding their business would deepen their bond. Crossing a crime family like the Rellos was not a wise decision, but among the Sczarni friends and enemies often shifted from one to another. It was a matter of respect and reputation. Choices were rarely easy.
Difficulty: Low | Status: On-going | Profit: Significant | Time: 48 hours
[/SIZE]Objective: Meet with Affri Rello & claim reparations - (Less reward/Increase Reputation)
They had many reasons for returning to Sandpoint after their job, but part of that was meeting with the Rello family's head and claiming their reparations. They had been knocked out by gas, before Pebeltin was abducted. Fortunately 'Jim Hands' was kind enough not to cut their throats while they slept. Glain rubbed his hands together and licked his chapped lips like a hungry animal. They had been fortunate enough to be found just outside the Whisperwood by Littlepockets and employed him temporarily to steal back their vehicles from Rello's men. An endeavor which took all of a minute to achieve for the gifted thief. The man's job had long been complete, but he'd been kind enough to help them get back to town and get in touch with Mr. Hands to make their claim. They'd been told to wait, told to be patient, but Glain had reached the limit of his restraint. "Alright, brothers. I'm gonna go stuff food in my face. You know how to find me, good luck with the Rello thing." The man lept down from Stella's large lumbering wagon with a wave. Almost as soon as he stepped off to the ground, he seemed to be swept away blending in with the throng of people.
Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 12 hours
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.
Denil lay back in the wagon taking a much needed nap. The shift had left him befuddled and confused, as shaken as they must have been the first time. He still remembered the old world, yet everything thew now saw seemed to contest that anything they knew had ever existed. They stood between reality and a dream, but now it had become near impossible to tell which was which...
Spoiler: Rewards
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Quest Complete: Flight of the Bobolyne
The deathly frost of the Uttercold descends from above, and hell awaits below. Abhorrent Veilbeasts fill the shades of the forest about them, and a dark figure smiles wickedly all the while. Has Denil's plan been foiled, was there any way out? Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it quickly.
Difficulty: Easy | Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 5 minutes
Objective: Survive.
Alternate Objective: Outlast the quest timer. 3/5
֍ Stella XP +400
֍ Aden XP +550
֍ Arina XP +400
֍ Feliks XP +350
⯎ Feliks gains the following Influences: Caution, Survival & Willpower
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks blinks, looking around frowning. Blasted fools. He shared a little of Denil's mistrust for things beyond his abilities, as it just continued to be the same thing all the time. Someone tries to reach out, and blam, they suddenly summon some dark creature from the nethervoid that consumes them. Its pointless to try and rely on things outside one's reach, if you can't build a up a strong base rooted in reality.
The first thing he did again was check his watch, looking around as he attempted to recollect what exactly was going on. If time went backwards like it appears to have, then whatever happened to knock them out and leave them there hadn't happened yet.
"Unless we want to get caught out there again we should remain vigilante till it passes again." he says. Though the most disturbing fact was that they passed out four days ago, or rather four days from two days ago was when he predicted they were at.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Aden looked about, grumbling. "We didn't go backward, Feliks, I don't think. It's more like we went...sideways. This is a way it could have been. We've lost the Rat, and now we're supposed to be meeting with the Rellos to discuss reparations for being bonked on the head. Hard. With gas."
The thief rocks his head in his hands. "Maybe. I don't know. All of this has been so disorienting. Hard to make sense of it all." It was troubling, how little his hands registered the weight of his own head. Ever since the spirit who called itself Skullface had touched him, he felt, no, he didn't feel. His body was numb, like he was disconnected from it. While it had its uses - Aden knew he was healthier than ever, and he could withstand far more pain. But the numbness which spread itself through his limbs was dreadful. He just barely could feel his spear in his grip, and subtler sensations - a soft breeze, the grazing touch of cloth, even the knicks and bumps one receives from weeks on the road - were gone completely.
Time enough to ponder the ramifications of these changes later. "For right now, we should get this business with the Rellos settled. It's unfortunate that we've technically failed our assignment, but I think we have more important issues to resolve."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks shook his head. "I was wrong.. We're not a few days off.. everything is wrong." he says pointing at the trees. "Its not right." He might not be a person who understands lots of magic, but he wasn't any slouch either. "The trees had less leaves and it was colder." The two timelines were completely off for it to be a jolt to the side, but there was also a change in the season.
Spoiler: OOC
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[roll0] Knowledge Nature
[roll1] Knowledge Geography
[roll2] Spellcraft
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina took a long moment to orient herself, shaken by the sudden change of scenery, the double memory. For a moment, she thought the Waldfrau, the old shaman, the staff, it had all been a dream or a vision, until Feliks spoke up. So it had been real... She fought to hold on to the memory of the shaman who had seemed to commune with the same spirits she could, what he had told her of her own powers... and the staff. It had vanished as soon as she connected with it, but she had still felt its power. Could still feel its power. But that set of questions could wait for later. The way Feliks and Aden had discussed this... shift made her think they had an idea of what caused it. "Mind filling me in on what happened?" She asked the others. "I was talking with Denil's friend back there, and all of a sudden something started going wrong outside. Next thing I know, we're here. Did you all run into trouble out there?"
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
She snatched the card from the air and was surprised to see that Aden had also gone for one, she thought that it was made clear that she was going to take the burden for them but apparently he had his own mind on the matter. As she looked down at the card she listened to Skullface, he had said this was with no price to him but that the next time there would be a price, though he was willing to trade the card she had for whatever was to be given. He also seemed to know exactly what she was, which made sense in a way as a being such as himself could probably read the threads and whatever one was connected to her might have given it away.
The suddenly swap that was caused by the card was confusing, she held now the memories of three lives as this new place was not like the previous two worlds she had been at. Her mind swept back to the six days of night that had happened to her first world, nothing had come out of that Long Night. The second world had suffered through a year and a day of the Long Night and all sorts of beings roamed it afterword. She let her mind drift back to the seven days that this world had experienced, as the memories fluttered before her she closed her eyes letting them play before her. Drawing herself back to the present she put on a large smile as she took a large breath of air in. The smells of the festivities lingered in the air, her mouth salivated as she smelled the different meats being cooked the spices used causing the smells to blend and tempt those that have shown up to celebrate. From the seat she had on top of her wagon she looked out over the throng of people watching as they flowed through the area. Looking over at Glain as he took off she wished that she could go and enjoy the festivities herself, but she had work to do. There was the Weeping Witch that they had to find, a being that she was unsure of what it could be but the possibility that it was something that had flowed over from the previous world was one that worried her. "Thank you for the Assistance Glain, Enjoy the festivities and if you could find a leg of lamb to bring back over here for me that would be amazing." she gave him a slight wave as he melded into the crowd.
Reaching between her breasts into the wound that would forever exist she withdrew the card that she had pulled, the only reminder that what had happened was most likely a reality that they had fled from and had not just been a dream. She pondered over what the card really was and what role it would serve in this world. Skullface had said not to lose the card so it must be important somehow, if she could just figure out how it was important then maybe she could figure out a way to gain back more of her lost powers. She looked over at Denil, the shift had seemed to have affected him more than the others. She remembered when she had shifted to the second world, her mind had been confused and shattered, days had passed before it had started to mend itself enough for her to be considered coherent. Even then though those memories were still fragmented for her and often brought about confusion and pain when she tried to think back on them.
Looking at the others as they seemed to be pondering what happened as well she decided to share a bit more about herself with them. "As Aden said its not that we went backwards in time, we are on a different world in a different realm. I have experienced something similar at least once before, the world I originate from was much different than the previous one. Though this one seems a bit more like it in the regards that the Long Night was not longer than a week and my original world was only six days." Laying back on the top of her carriage she let her legs dangle off the side, she held the card up above her letting it cast a shadow over her face as she thought about everything. "As to what happened while you were with the old man, Well I messed up big time. A being whose name could not be spoken but that will be called Skullface appeared before us when I tried to get the attention of the old man inside the hut. He spoke his name and brought about some sort of change as well as the Uttercold that should not have been where we were at. We spoke for a time and then he made an offer, draw a card and hope for aid in regards to the situation we were in. I managed to get the draw as it seems that Aden had decided to reach for a card as well. The power that was linked to this card has thrown us to this world now it seems... so yeah thats the basis of what happened... let me know if you want more clarity on anything." Slipping the card back between her breast and into the wound she sat back up looking out among the crowd again. "We can go settle things with the Rellos now if you want or we could go and search for the Weeping Witch... Think the search for the Weeping Witch should take precedence, we dont know how long it will take and we are on a clock to find her since Kynd is also on the hunter for her. Course then again if we can get with the Rellos quickly then maybe they could provide some assistance with searching for the Weeping Witch." Looking back at Denil again, "Should probably wake him up so that we can get his opinion on the matter."
Spoiler: OOC
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Know History: [roll0] for information on the differences between the 2 worlds, specifically what came about after This worlds Long Night
Know Local: [roll1] on if the Sczarni would help in locating this Weeping Witch and not kill her before we get a chance to speak with it
Know Abstract: [roll2] or [roll3] on the card
Know Forbidden: [roll4] or [roll5] on the card
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:12 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square
The Halfling quietly propped himself up, perhaps suddenly waking, or never having been asleep at all. Finding an upright posture then pausing in a moment of silence, the words suddenly came to him. "It's decided then." The sentence seemed to ring with a resounding sense of conviction, like they'd been mulled over for far longer than anything should. "I'm leaving." Denil sharply rose, as he gathered his blanket and loose supplies, mechanically stuffing them into his absurdly sized bag. The movements were mindless, but practiced, placing and tightening the folds of the large rucksack to make use of every inch of space within. He spoke as he worked, "Avecna told me a lot of things, we're good friends, but even then. I can't say I had believed em all til now. Now I understand. Now I know why it happened like it happened, why she sponsored you. Hell, I didn't even think 'Veil-Witches' were a thing - but she was entirely convinced. 'Worldshaping magicians who could distort and destroy reality with a careless word or thought' - she said. Doesn't sound like any kinda magic I know, right? Therefore, they couldn't really be witches, or at least anyone casting magic in reality. I guess we were both right." He cast a stern gaze at Stella, "She's from the same world as you, you know. She remembers. That's why she took a risk. Either you'd succeed, or there wouldn't be a universe where you'd exist anyways. Likely all of the so-called witches who were in our world couldn't be found because they weren't no more." The short man snapped his bag closed and cinched down the straps before hefting it up and strapping it on his back. "Avecna wanted me to guide you lot, and I did. The best I could. But I ain't sticking around some numbskull-child with universe-destroying weapons in her head. Weapons, she doesn't even know how to use. The fact that anyone from my world still existed after the Veilwitches left, means this sheit is moderately contained - at least for those left behind. Which means I can walk away." He pointed a stubby finger at Stella as he had once before, "You might think you're god's gift to reality, but it doesn't matter if you've been handed all the answers if you ain't alive to understand what they mean. Make no mistake little witch, you ain't gonna be living for very long going the way you are." It was the first time in Denil's seventy-one years of life he had ever said the word 'witch' in such a derogatory manner and meant it. He looked at the others, "Now, I don't rightly know if you all got roped into this or have your own part to play - but from what Mr. Big Man In The Darkness said, whatever this is involves you to. I can't figure anything out while I have an idiot ripping me across reality every five minutes, so I'll look into things my way. With two feet firmly planted right here, on Golarion. But i'll leave you with something to think about, my own insightful conjecture, if you fancy; This isn't new. Guys like me, and Gales like you have been researching the Paradox Codices for over twenty years. They started appearing both before and after the Long Night of our world, if we're looking at all records of findings and counting those documents which haven't been cataloged yet. There's a lot of theories surrounding that field, but with the knowledge, the pieces that we just uncovered, things start to all fit. The Long Night happened, to us, once before. An original universe, an original Golarion. Our world, not something or somewhere else separate. Whatever followed created the previously-present iteration of a year-long event which we would also call the Long Night. Random bits and people were carried over. One, a world of the past, and ours - a world of the present. Two sides of the same coin - but it's the same damn coin. Whatever Skullface was, his simple name could change reality. These entities are like living words of power, true to whatever their purpose is. With that in mind, I don't think Skullface was talking about present or past 'time', but present and past realities. Chances are, this is some variation of the reality which existed before the Long Night which destroyed it. Obviously, it won't be exactly the same if it was corrected, or whatever you call it. But if I was a betting man, I'd wager that the Long Night here really was six days like the brat said - and the seventh is somehow related to whatever we did to get here. Two events seemingly blending into one. Anyways..." Denil hopped off the wagon with a mock salute as he went, "I'll write to Avecna with that I find. Later kids. Reel in the witch and try not to get splattered across the solar system." The halfling turned away pushing through the throng of people to quickly disappear into the mob. Denil had been an adventurer his whole life, winning out against impossible odds and saving the day, not with his might at arms, but his wit and insight. He didn't really have any friends, despite what he said, but he had lasting bonds with countless others forged throughout their ventures together. While he was gruff, antagonistic and perhaps overly candid, that transparency and vast wealth of knowledge was valued by many. He'd known countless meetings and departures, but every time he wondered if they'd ever meet again, if they'd be okay without him, if he told them everything he should have. This time, for the first time... Denil didn't look back.
Denil Demn Has Left The Party
Feliks wasn't an ecologist or an arch-wizard, but he knew a few things with certainty. First first was that those here were either unborn or learning to walk when the Long Night had occurred in his own world, yet now, it had been 3 months ago, lasting mere days. As they all knew, while things were different since that week of darkness, it wasn't evidently so. It was almost as if something had changed beneath the surface, not in the environment, but in people. It was difficult to understand, and every elusive, like some pain quietly lingered in men's thoughts. The second large fact was that they couldn't have gone back in time if they had in-fact been thrown forward 9 months, now it the Fall season, the first day of Autumn, and the previous events which they had experienced once before had already come and gone. They'd taken the job for Plebeltin, been outwitted and left in the Whisperwood, then came upon Glain along the highway. It was as if all of the happenings of their world had been plugged into the time line of another. He was absolutely certain, without any doubt, there was no manner of magic within his world or the knowledge he had of the one which he found himself in, which could perform such a fantastical feat. This was not magic. Not by any definition of the forces which were employed or understood by the races of Golarion. This was something else. Vaster. Frightful. More terrible than any of the esoteric force which could be named. Whatever this was, should not exist, not within this plane of existence at least, and not within sight of the mortal creatures who dwelt here. There was only a creeping oppressive feeling that they had seen things which should not be seen, and now they were entrapped within a web of power they did not understand. (Feliks | Knowledge: Nature, Geography, Spellcraft - Passed)
Stella couldn't find the answers she sought as she searched through the memories. There was no answer. No definition existed any longer which stood to separate those memories, which allowed them to be understood and examined at depth. It was like trying to remember something she had dreamed of once, many years ago. It was faded and vague. She struggled to sort through what was even real, it was all muddled together to the point that there existed only two things which stood clearly. The Card. Which reminded her of another time that was... and a name. Adessa. Her teacher, the source of her magics, who she had never met - at least not in this life. The magic and the forces which she could command were a constant reminder, forcing her to remember a time that might have been. Magic which offered no reason nor explanation. Though she couldn't be sure why, it felt like something had grown even further away. With no answers, she closed her eyes and stepped into the darkness. (Stella, Spited | Knowledge: History, Local, Abstract - Failed)
It was sudden and without warning. The pain. Aden could feel it long before any saw it. It was one of the few things left he could feel. An alarming and violent quivering that reverberated throughout his body, beneath his skin. As if some sonic energy were about to come cascading through his every pore. Then, it was simply there, lashing through cruel lacerations hovering in the air. Ebon shadowy hands, like those shadows which had lingered over them within the Sacred Grove of their previous world. Their clawed limbs dove into Stella's abdomen like a swarm, throwing her body to the floor before viciously ripping out a dripping black fist of amorphous gore. Neither organs, nor flesh, the hands violently grasped at their gruesome prize before retreating back into the void-hole from which they had sprung. Then it was gone without trace, save for one. The wound left upon the witch did not close, it remained. Every blood-vessel seemed to pulse strangely and her body jerked once before spitting up a spray of thick black inkor. A number of men from the crowd milling nearby quickly turned and sprinted away in panic and alarm, but most seemed to have not noticed. Then a familiar curtain of void quickly drowned out all else... (Stella, Spited | Knowledge: Forbidden - Passed)
It was the same darkness they knew, but this time a wrongness pervaded it. Gone was the guiding voice which lingered here, gone was the council and wisdom to give reason to the madness. They each stood shoulder-to-shoulder, being drawn forward and knowing they should not have come. A figure stood before a massive door, far unlike the one which they had created. It was round and crude - of a size which would allow fleets to pass unimpeded. As they were drawn forward, the massive doors yawned wide. The figure turned to face them. She was garbed in a flowing dress of white, but her face remained obscured behind a ghastly veil, a funeral shroud; and atop her head rested a blackened crown of thorns. Though it had been three lifetimes, Stella knew who she was. The Whispering Witch shook her head slowly, as if it were a silent gesture of condemnation. They passed through the door.
"I should have known my brother would not discipline you properly, child." There was no voice, simply a projected consciousness overwhelming them, piercing their minds. Before them stood a breathtaking sight. The dazzling array of the stars and universe laid out before them like a box of jewels. Yet, that amazement quickly was replaced by confusion and then worry, for within the night stood a great beast. His eyes were the shimmering light of galaxies, his mantle the shifting nebulous gases of the cosmos. A living primordial entity, an aeon which dwelt beyond the microcosm of insignificant worlds and planets. Ghastly, yet beautiful. The distance between them and the creature's size, were so incomprehensibly massive, no word or number had yet been invented in their world to describe it. He simply was the dark between the stars, and the light they received. Once again the sentiment seemed to bubble up to the surface, the wrongness of their presence here. "Twice have you violated the word of your Mother, and mine. I now warn you, just once, with these souls as witness. Do not seek What She Forbade again. The power I have granted to you, and those before you, should not be misused in such a manner. Do so a third time, and I will see you are destroyed..." The light of the stars slowly seemed to diminish as they were drawn back out the way they had come. "At nightfall, in your dreams. Speak my name, and I shall answer the question which you had sought. Now go." This time, the figure wasn't waiting for them as they left.
Spoiler: Returner: Potential Advancement Status
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Returner Potential Advancement: Focused Mind
With each new exposure to the entities beyond which you were once bound, you reclaim a small measure of yourself. Now your memories begin to return and your magic slowly awakens. Learning to harness your forgotten powers and learning to command the strange planner ties known as the Weave is the beginning to truly reclaiming your past-life might.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Time: None
Prerequisite: Roll two natural 20s on a single check with Focused Mind (Cleared)
Reward: Awoken Mind Potential or Spellweaver Potential or Veilweaver Potential
Objective: Learn the names of two Relicuum spirits and acquire the skill Knowledge (Spellweave)
Progress: (2/3)
- Afsppa'sol, Who Deceived the Father
- Ulbeelta, Who Walked The Night Still
Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 12 hours
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.
They came careening back into themselves after the brief and unexpected journey to the blackness of space. It left a foul taste in the mouth, how quickly and without warning they could find themselves throw and hammered across the walls of reality within the span of so short a time. Stella's consciousness came crashing back into her body last, seemingly the source of all their troubles. The crushing agony hit her more solidly than a steel mace, nearly knocking her unconscious. The child rolled about on the ground, gargling on the black frothy sludge which the hands had left in her gaping wound. It spilled out from the fleshy cavity with each movement like a pool of tar-like filth. The reality that the girl was barely clinging to life after the assault was slow to process until the stifled cries of pain slowly invaded their numbed minds, still reeling from the sudden displacement. In the distance, a handful of armed men led by a stout Shoanti in simple leather armor could be seen making their way towards the wagon. Though the experience wasn't welcome, it did validate the short man's suspicions; for the halfling was noticeably absent from the journey this time around. Denil's words didn't seem so exaggerated now.
Spoiler: Status | Reward | Spite
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Stella HP: 0/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)
֍ Stella XP +300
֍ Aden XP +350
⯎ Calm has been added to Aden's list of Influences
֍ Arina XP +300
֍ Feliks XP +350
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks looked rather unhappy of the situation. He knew they had traveled in time. He was just wrong about the direction as he misread his watch. Worse yet, the only sane person the group besides him had ran off faster than one could say No please stop. Not that Feliks exactly wanted to try to persuade the halfling to stay with them. After all, he somehow got himself wrapped up with this wit....
...stumbling he falls to the ground, coughing for a moment. "For love of..." he grumbled. "What ever you just did.. STOP DOING IT. Oh, you're bleeding everywhere now, I guess that works." He says sighing. A healer's work is never done when fools were on the prowl. They didn't even need a moon.
"Can one of you two put some pressure on the wound for me. Whatever you do, do not use magic to do so. The other one, roll out a bedroll.. Unless you can find that wheeled bedroll again. Not sure were that went. " He works at taking off his pack, and pulling out his mask, gloves and coat, putting them on. At the present moment, he was pretty close to just letting her die to her own stupidity. "For you two, here is the situation. Bad **** happened, and now we're about six months in the future of when we left. Following the many worlds theory, its possible we jumped to the side, but it is also possible we just went into the future. Eitherway, don't think you can just magic your way out of the bad ****. Our only guidance has left us, I have no idea where our fifth member is anymore, and we've got her, he says pointing to the injured woman "To blame for it. So a few rules..
One, don't say words you don't know. Especially names of super magic things. Two, when one of these things offers you something, don't bloody well grab it, unless there is absolutely no other way, and we're trying to do a Hail Cayden. Look at what happened to her after she did that?"
He wasn't sure he could heal her, especially out on the field and not in a controlled environment. But he was going to damn well try. The most he knew however was that she was okay until she did something and brought them all to the dark world place.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Aden quickly whipped his backpack off, and started digging around. "Feliks, while I - Hell's bells, where is it - appreciate the sentiment I would like - I know I packed it just get out - to mention that we are all adults - there we go!" He pulled his blanket out of the pack and pressed it hard against Stella's side.
"We don't need to be lectured. We're not stupid. We're learning the rules, same as you. And, frankly, if Stella or I hadn't taken the card from Bag O'Bones, you would be dead. I'll let you decide if you are grateful for that or not." Aden sighed, his eyes turning down to the witch's face. That really was what Stella was, it seemed. A true blue, real life Veil Witch, the thing hundreds of thousands of people across Golarion had hunted down for years. She seemed so fragile right now. Hardly the terrifying creature from the stories. From what Denil had said, she was from another world, and had forgotten most of what she knew. Hopefully, she figured it out soon. It would be a terrible shame if Aden had to kill her. "Alright Stella. Up and at em. You can pull through."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
Disappointment showed on her face as Denil spoke his part and walked away from the group. She really hoped that the others wouldn't leave as well, she felt that without them she would end up screwing everything up once again. She needed someone to reign her in and keep her in check till she could figure out exactly what her powers were and how to best use them. Only time would tell though whether she would succeed in the endeavor or die before the time came. She sat there pondering what the card meant and how it could be used, her mind trying its best to roll back to its old memories but they were even more distant from before. Few things remained of her old memories, the card helped in keeping her latched to the present letting her know that this world was as real as the previous ones. Her old teacher Adessa, the name of the woman who had at one point taught her magic she had now forgotten. Forces she once commanded no longer obeyed her correctly and she knew that she would have to be very careful going forward. Closing her eyes the blackness took her.
She was in the darkness again, though this time it was different. Everything felt wrong and she could not feel the comfort that normally existed within. She approached the massive door with the others, a figure standing outside it made her wonder what had happened and why they were here. As they got closer she realized that the figure was the Whispering Witch, Adessa was here and by the shaking of her head it seemed that she was not happy with the actions that Stella was taking. She would have cried if possible but the tears just would not form, the sense of dread in her stomach would not abide as they passed through the door. The array of stars splayed out before them as some being spoke from within, the words pierced into her mind and she understood that she had once again screwed up big. The initial awe that she felt towards the view was quickly sapped away from her as she realized that a great beast stood before them. An entity that she could not comprehend spoke once again, she had violated something that her Mother and this being had agreed to. A warning was given to her, one that she would be sure to follow should she survive this encounter. As the being finished speaking and the light of the stars faded she heard the final words spoken, She was told to speak his name and he shall answer the questions she had been seeking. She was unsure which question he was referring to but nonetheless she would still seek his council as she needed answers to survive.
Crashing back into her body she is wracked with severe pain, her body thrashed as if she was having a seizure. She would have screamed out if not for the frothy black sludge that filled her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as her heart pounded in her chest, the wound in her gut oozed the black goo with every movement. Looking up at Feliks as he rushed over she prayed to the only beings she could think of at the time "Adessa... Mother... Please... Save me." She listened to Feliks as he spoke, the words washed over her as waves of pain kept her mind just below the black. He was accusing her for the troubles that have been happening and rightly so, if it hadn't been for her maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Denil would still be with them and maybe they would have been able to learn more from Waldfrau. Still though she did not like the mans attitude and if she survived she would be sure that she spoke her mind regarding just that very thing. Aden was speaking as well now, his words barely making it through to her yet she felt that he was more on her side at the moment than Feliks was.
Spoiler: OOC
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Stabilizing: [roll0] Using Charmed for +5 to make it an 11
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
"I learned the rules early on. Avoid it, keep your head down, ears open. Watch observe, and know that you are a child. " he continues, pulling out a vial alchemist's kindness from his pouch, and with practiced hand movements pops the cork forcing it down Stella's throat, with enough care to not do more harm. "And that is why I'm focused in figuring out the art of healing wounds with as little magic as I possibly can. It is not a pretty sight when you go to heal a papercut with a spell, and the magic warp, and your head exploding instead."
Of course part of this might also be the man's inability to really use magic itself, despite being rather educated about it. The first thing he needed to do was to try and stabilize the young woman.
Spoiler: OOC
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Educated Druggist heals 1 hp for administrating an alchemical remedy to try and keep her from dying on me.
[roll0] Heal check for Diagnostics on what her current condition really is.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina watched Denil go with a twinge of sadness, though not surprise. Chroniclers didn't tend to stick around for too long, even without a crazed swordswoman actively trying to murder them, but the halfling seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. She was still trying to wrap her head around the changes, around Denil's warnings, around the fact that Stella was a Veilwitch, when the girl began convulsing and spraying... blood? She stepped back at first with a mixture of surprise and disgust, before gathering herself and responding to Feliks' instructions, helping to lay out a bedroll and staunch the wound. She examined the wound, all the while listening to the whispers about her, focusing and drawing in a particular spirit that might be able to help her. "I've got a bit of magical healing, if it's safe," she tells Feliks. "Not as good closing wounds as opening them, but I think I can manage it." She doesn't know for sure if he'd told them not to use magical healing because he knew or suspected it would cause a problem, but in the case of the latter it wouldn't hurt to be ready.
Spoiler: OOC
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Rolling a heal check as well, both to help keep the wounds under control and help identify what's going on:
[roll0]
Rolling Knowledge (Arcana) for good measure, to see if magical healing is an option:
[roll1]
Using Spirit Allies to gain the benefits of the Life sphere for 1 minute, so I can either grant temporary HP, heal, or heal some ability damage plus several other status effects.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:13 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square
Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 12 hours
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.
The familiar face of one of the young men who went off running came sprinting back, slamming into the wagon to stop his own momentum. The young man's cap flopped off his head and fell onto the ground as he peered at the young woman's body, "...Gods.... SHERIFF, SHERIFF! OVER HERE!" The Shoanti man came running up behind the lad close behind, his eyes went wide in surprise. His face quickly recovered without even a pause of transition, his eyes went hard as he quickly looked at each of them. Despite the grotesque scene the man didn't flinch, reflecting an uncommon nerve. This man had seen worse, and that was a frightful thought. "I'm Sheriff Hemlock, Belor Hemlock. I need answers." His tone was steady and matter-of-fact. The boy leaned closer to the scene, an inquisitive look in his eye. "...What is it Emithy?" he spoke in an annoyed tone, but expectantly, as if the answer would have come even had he not asked for it. "...Black blood? No... Sir, I think this is some kinda blight - from magic. Not the good kind. One of them mentioned it before." The simple militiaman at the young man's side didn't seem to be following the conversation, but all eyes seem to be drawn towards the large grim-faced man besides him. Numerous scars crossed his face, his long dark hair and sun-kissed complexion showing his Varisian blood. He tilted the edge of his large brimmed hat, obscuring most of his face - save for one steely eye. The heavy coat he donned obscured most of his form, but did not entirely mask the various worn tools of murder which poked through the worn mantle. It didn't take a man of any measure of experience to look at him and know he was a soul born for violence. They all knew he was, everyone did when he wanted them to; Jim 'Hands'.
Hemlock snarled, "I promise you Hands, if this is your doing, not even the Rellos will save your neck from the noose." The man grinned darkly revealing his rotten, half wooden teeth. His voice sounded like something between a hiss and the rasping sound a pile of discarded steel made when screeching down the funnel of a Numerian forge, "Heh, welcome any'chance teh cut ya' throat, Sheriff. But'cha got teh wrong man dis time, Belor. Got'a reputation teh keep, need'a let em know when ol' Hands is commin'. So, it'll be screamin' an' bloody. Sign 'em like a signature. That's how real killers kill, only way teh' separate da' wheat from da chaff. The lads right. Dis' here... Dis' is dark magic, black magic, and the worse kind. Me? Heh, don't kill men like dis. Takes'a twisted sort." Belor ran a hand down his face, it was evident he tolerated the man for the connections he had - but he believed him. Some men, be they criminals or otherwise, were just born honest. Jim Hands was a difficult man to understand. A fearsome killer, made all the more so by his mastery of disguise, but he had rules. He never hid behind the Rellos, a public killer-for-hire. Sometimes he took a direct approach, but often he took on another persona, making him unreasonably difficult to find. If you could catch him before he cut out your heart, then he'd back off out of respect. But rule breakers who didn't uphold that honor-among-criminals, men like Plebeltin, who disrespected the Sczarni... they weren't afforded the same curtsy. He was a bad man, but that didn't necessarily make him evil. "...Ah sheit." The sheriff looked at the Sczarni executioner with a look of concern, "What now?" The large man scratched his mutilated cheek, "Des' kids are da' ones they had meh' keep alive. Sheit. Gotta tell Affri, keep 'em alive, or you gonna have the wrong people askin' questions ya' dun' wanna' answer, sheriff." The young man, Emithy, looked deeply disturbed. The sheriff remained unfazed, his face impassive as the lumbering killer swiftly moved away. He looked back over his shoulder as he went, a grin chiseled into his torn visage. It was a look the Shoanti man had seen many times before when their paths found themselves on opposite side of a matter. A look of respect. Though only mentally, he couldn't help but accept that look, returning with his steely gaze. A proverbial nod. Hands was a proper criminal, a proper Sczarni, the kind of criminal that had become more and more rare in the years which followed. A worthy adversary.
Feliks had seen many kinds of wounds, but the otherworldly blow which had felled Stella was delivered from forces which none of them understood, or arguably, comprehended. Still, despite the fact that the strange hands had dealt what was without a doubt, a mortal wound, the witch did not perish. His practiced eye could tell she had experienced the worst of it. It had not been an easy call deciding to deliver his treatment when the scene was so foreign, but it seemed to be working. The hemorrhaging had stifled with Arina's help, and his tonic had allowed Stella's circulatory system to catch up to the sudden loss of blood and sharp decrease in oxygen. The signs of shock were beginning to diminish, which was a positive sign for his immediate treatment, but that did not detract from the more pressing concern. While... technically still present, the organs within her abdominal cavity had been withered and misshapen to the point which they were difficult to even identify; as if looking within a muddy bowl of black worms. It left a massive gaping hole which should have resulted in the worst manner of sucking chest wound, of which there was no mundane remedy to provide. He could only conclude that the girl's internal bodily functions had either been changed by the strike, or adapted via some manner of witchy-magic. He couldn't be sure which was the case. Still, there was relatively little blood, but instead the strange tar-like substance gushed out from every blood vessel and orifice til there was no actual 'blood' to be found. It was a horrid, foul mess, like a rotten curdling pool that smelled of sulfur. Looking around the area of the damaged flesh, he could make out early signs of necrosis. The wound wouldn't heal. Despite sustaining the girl's life, all of the signs he was beginning to see were not those of a living person. It was as if she had been slain instantly, and now this was merely a corpse. Feliks knew further treatment would prove exceedingly difficult as her strange condition only worsened, but the immediate concern had likely passed. (Feliks | Heal Check - Success)
Immortal Potential Advancement: A Riddle Without Answer
Death was no stranger. You've defied it, faced it, and dragged others kicking and screaming from its cold clutches. Yet, now the world has changed, the nature of medicine and remedy has shifted. There were wounds which could not be healed. Flesh which could not be mended, and creatures aplenty which could not be understood, waiting for their opportunity to deliver such terrors. Death had a new face, and grinned speaking a riddle without answer. But you were patient and cautious. Life in this world begun and ended with a careless word, or careless thought. Each fool was an opportunity, every blight was a hint. A hint at an answer, something jingling like a ring in a wine glass swirling in the back of your mind. If you took your time, if you played cautiously, you could win... but the closer you came, the closer you treaded to the edge. You wouldn't fall. Even if only one more time, you'd win Death's game.
Difficulty: Challenging | Status: On-going | Time: None
Reward: Potential Advancement
Influence: Life, Healing, Wisdom, Strategy, Magic, Caution, Survival,
Objective: Correctly diagnose 5 types of cursed wound & successfully heal 5 types of cursed wounds.
Progress: (0/10)
Arina could see her efforts paying off as the stem of blood lessened and the girl's condition seemed to slowly improve. The ooze from her mouth and wounds was lessened, but she had never seen anything like this before. Her blood had gone black, her wounds were vicious and horrid, as if she had been simultaneously impaled and disemboweled at the same time. A lingering sense filled her as she applied pressure to the wound, a sense of something important missing. She didn't know what it was, or what it was called, only that it was gone. Whatever it was, it was stolen. Without a second look she knew the wound was magic in nature, likely a curse. It would make mending it difficult, but as it were, magic could only be fought with magic on some levels. Looking at the thick slime which pressed up from between her fingers she knew that some spells would likely cause more harm than good. Something was displaced, warped and twisted. It felt as if the life energy had been corrupted, and though she couldn't be sure, she had the suspicion that now life energy would only do harm. If magical healing was to be used, it could not be drawn from the plane of positive energy. (Arina | Heal Check - Partial / Knowledge Arcana - Success)
Sheriff Hemlock turned about, looking at the scene once more, "Here, it's not much, but maybe it'll help." He pulled out a potion and offered it to Feliks. "I'm not a man of medicine, but you might find some use for it - now tell me what happened." A commotion further away sounded louder than the cheer of those around them who passed by still oblivious of the events going on about them. Hemlock looked over his shoulder, "Uhg, what now? Emithy, find out what's going on over there while I handle this." The young man nodded, "You got it Sheriff." Without a thought the young man dashed off, easily picking his way through the crowd with an unusual swiftness.
Sheriff Belor Hemlock
Spoiler: Offered Potion
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The Sheriff offers a sealed bottle with a clearly marked label identifying it as a potion of cure light wounds. The glass and wax seal are both of high quality and do not appear to have been tampered with.
Spoiler: Status | Reward | Spite
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Stella HP: 1/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)
֍ Stella XP +250
֍ Aden XP +200
֍ Arina XP +200
֍ Feliks XP +300
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Feliks thought long and hard on the issue at hand, even as he grew annoyed at the man running up screaming and slamming into the wagon. He bit his tongue to stop from speaking out as he watched more people gathering closer to the group. He'd not seen this kind of stuff before. Everything was wrong, though he could try to repair some of it himself, it wasn't going to be easy. He was going to need a lot more supplies, and besides, his concern was confirmed. This wasn't in any way normal. No poison or toxin, or even some of the normal magic he has seen before could do this. Trying to mess around with her organs could cause them to do something beyond just killing Stella, her spleen could grow an oppose-able thumb and begin crawling out of her.
He looked at the people gathering around hmming. At the very least she was stable, but still.. kinda dead. He still thought on it though, holding the bottle he was given for a moment to confirm it hadn't been switched around. Magic to fight magic.." he sighs, "At the moment I've got her stabilized, and as much as I'd want to use this right now, for the moment it should wait until we know more about the patients condition. Besides, I'd be a hypocrite if I turned to magic this easily." If the internal organs were ruined.. What if he cut them out and replace them with new ones? It would be a crazy thought however. It wasn't like he could flush her blood out like she was some tubing system he used for his alchemy, and likely even if it was possible to transplant organs, and he managed to get people to go along with it, the black blood sludge would likely destroy the other organs.
"We need some place relatively clean to bring her. Preferably away from people."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina gave the sheriff a sidelong glare as he conversed with the assassin and Feliks continued to tend to Stella's wounds. After all this, the man just comes up to them and begins demanding answers, as their friend is possibly dying to some kind of curse? It had been a long day already, and she was beginning to run shy of patience. Her hand clenched as the whispers grew louder, more insistent. It would be so easy to give in, to give them what they wanted...
She closed her eyes, drew a breath, composed herself. Forced the whispers to the back of her mind once more. Focusing her mind on the task in front of her, she went back to helping Feliks, half-listening as the hitman conversed with the sheriff. When he addressed them once more and offered the potion, she sighed and sat back. They'd likely done all they could for Stella laying here in the street. "I think you're right," she told the healer. "About magical healing, that is. I don't think a healing spell would do any good. I might be able to try something... but for the moment you're right. We need to get her off the streets. Are either of you hurt?" she asked Feliks and Aden. Her tenuous grasp on this spirit would slip away soon, best offer while she would still be able to heal.
She finally directed her attention back to the sheriff. "Honestly, we're still trying to figure out what's going on ourselves. We can tell you what we know, but let us get our friend somewhere safe first." Her voice was more tired than annoyed at this point. This day had been far too full of surprises already, and it didn't look likely to let up anytime soon.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
Turning her head to the side she spit out the black foam that had filled her mouth. Her body still filled with pain as she laid back down waiting for it to subside enough to think straight. As the Sheriff walked over and began speaking with them worry filled her mind that the man may over react and decide to get rid of the problem by force. She was pleasantly surprised when instead he seemed more like he wanted to provide assistance in helping with what little bit he could. She was unsure though if she should tell what her theory was for why this all happened to her, she knew the others would understand but this man was not one known to her.
She looked up at the others as a tear fell from her eye, the pain was still powerful enough and she was to weak at the moment to really speak. Mustering up what strength she had waving down for the others to lean closer so she didn't have to speak loudly. Speaking lightly and with obvious strain in her voice she clued the others in on what she thought had caused this as well what might fix it "The World's Tax... Need... to.. get rid... of it." She tried her best to code her words so that only those whom had been present for Skullfaces talk might catch on. The strain of speaking brought more pain coursing through her body she bit down on her lip and shut her eyes as she road out the new pain. As it subsided her mind wandered wondering how much of this Spite she had collected to cause such a reaction from the world, or if this had actually been caused by the entity that had just warned her not to use her powers. She truely wished that she knew had to get rid of spite herself, hopefully someone in this city might know of a way. Hearing that Feliks was thinking of taking her somewhere cleaner and safer reminded her that the wound was gaping open and needed to be sealed shut somehow. Slowly lifting her arm to the quiver that hung off her belt she pulled out several strips of Glue paper, holding them up for Feliks to take she again spoke to let him know what she wanted done. "Before... moving me... seal... the wound." again the pain returned as she spoke, she knew that it would have been better to not speak but she didn't want to be carried around with a gaping hole in her gut.
Spoiler: OOC
Show
Going to risk trying to see if I can figure out something... hopefully just rolling normal non-forbidden checks wont kill me.
Know Abstracts: [roll0] or [roll1] To determine if it was cause of the spite or the entity that im like this
Know Arcana: [roll2] to try and figure out what can be done to help.
Know Abstracts: [roll3] or [roll4] same as arcana...
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
"I've got a needle if somebody's got some thread." With a wry smile, Aden pulls a sewing needle from his backpack with his free hand. "I'm not much of a healer, but we probably don't want to be conducting minor surgery in the middle of the street." His eyes swing up to the sheriff. "Well hello there, Sheriff Hemlock. Obliged for the potion. You wouldn't happen to know of somewhere we can tend to our friend in relative peace and quiet? There's a hell of a story in it for you if you do."
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
22th of Rova, Sunday - Time: 7:26 am (Morning) / AR 4707 (Autumn)
The Lost Coast Road; Sandpoint Hinterlands
Town of Sandpoint; Town Square
Main Quest: Seven Days of Night
Memories of the present were still blurred by those of the past, muddling everything together. Yet, they had not forgotten their time in that other reality... It had perhaps been a lifetime ago, for they had lived each day of both the present and that place they once knew. It was as if they had woken up from the longest dream, and now it was difficult to tell which was real. Whenever the truth fell into question, the needed only look at the grim card still clutched in Stella's grasp. Only the words from the Primeval Dark remain to guide you towards answers, but you can't help feeling as if you're simply grasping at straws.
Difficulty: None| Status: On-going | Profit: Unknown | Time: 12 hours
Objective:Rumors have reached your ears of the so called 'Weeping Witch' haunting Sandpoint's streets, and strange creatures have begun appearing around the Sandpoint Hinterlands. This information was bought from Riddleport's Harriers, but the job was undertaken by the veteran hunter Kynd. Whatever the truth is, you must find it before that Offworlder does.
The sheriff nodded sternly, "Fair enough. We are in agreement for that at least, dealing with all of this on the street isn't in the public's interest." Whatever had caused the commotion far off in the distance had seemed to die down. After a moment the young man returned once more, at a sprint. Sweat dripped from his brow from both the run and whatever had occupied his attention. "Sir, a moment?" The Shoanti man glanced from the lad to the group of strangers, then back to the lad again, but seeing that his attention was focused on something else completely he gave a curt nod. Looking back to the party, "...One moment." He stepped away from the group to place himself out of earshot, beginning his conversation with the winded boy. They spoke in hushed tones with their backs to the rest of them.
Spoiler: Listening In: DC20 Perception
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"What happened?"
"The Weeping Witch showed up at the old Dragon. Caused a real commotion, but the deputy managed to get things under control."
"What? Didn't all your fairytales say that she only appears at night?"
"Sir, this isn't just folk tales anymore. It's real."
"...And there goes my morning. God's preserve us."
"Mister Kaijitsu caught wind of the situation..."
"Goddamit. Alright, tell me why it's even worse than it sounds."
"...The Rellos know too."
"Uhhg, I don't have the men or the patience to deal with this right now."
"Mister Kaijitsu might not be a fan of the Dragon, but he doesn't want this sort of attention to fall back on him from his daughters establishment. The Rellos are in agreement, it wouldn't be good to have this become public right after all the killings. There would be an uproar.... So they want it handled, quietly."
"...Alright, we'll come back to that. Right now we need to handle with what's in front of us. I don't need anyone else dying on my streets. Did you get a hold of Father Zantus and let him know we needed a healer?"
"About that..."
"Something I should know?"
"The father is locked away in his chambers. Apparently he was approached by a holy-emissary from Mendev after the consecration of the new chapel, and he hasn't been seen since. Instead, the Rellos has Hands fetch his own healer to tend to them."
"Oh, really? That must have cost a pretty penny. Whoever these people are, they're in too deep and I don't want any part of it. Lets bring them back, get them patched up, and then handle this other business. I'm not even sure if I want to know what happened anymore."
"They should already be waiting for us at the infirmary. I don't got a good feeling about these guys either... Let sleeping dogs lie."
"Right. Lets get this over with."
The sheriff pat Emithy on the back and sharply turned back around approaching the others once again. "We're taking her back to the infirmary at my office. We have a healer waiting. But first we need to cover that wound before we move." Pulling himself in the wagon, he quickly assisted in applying the bands of tape before covering the girl in a blanket. Seeing that she was stable enough, he lifted the small witch and quickly led the party away to another building not far from where their vehicles had been parked. The sheriff glanced back at the militiaman who had stayed at his side as he begun his departure. "Cobert, you stay behind and make sure no one tampers with the vehicles." The simple looking man acknowledged the order with a lazy salute, obviously not thrilled with being placed on guard of the property, but not dissatisfied to the point of raising complaint. He leaned against a wagon half-expectedly as they went.
Ͽ ◯ Ͼ
The building was solid and humble without any adornments, speaking some measure of the man which it belonged to. A solid wooden door reinforced with cast iron steel stood boldly at its fore, flanked by barred windows. As they approached the door opened to the familiar grisly face of the executioner, Jim Hands. "She still'in one piece?" He half paused, looking at their faces instead of Stella easily gaging the situation with a practiced eye. "Good." Hemlock stormed past the large man and into a well maintained clean open room which served as their medical hall. He laid the girl down upon the white sheets of a rather stiff bed. "Nuf' with da sour face, sheriff. Brought da' best damn healer this side'a Avistan." Belor's gaze drifted to the menacing figure who loomed off in the corner of the room.
Macabre. That was one word for it. Emithy looked at the woman and begun back peddling towards the door. "Looks like you got this under control, sir. I'll go check on our other situation." The boy was gone before Hemlock could raise a word of protest, but he couldn't blame him. "Heh, kid shy? Won't git 'nother chance teh meet'a Hexenhammer, an' Abby 'ere is da' best at what she does." The woman stood above Jim's own height, easily breaking six and a half feet from the ground. She wore two heavy black cloaks adorned with strange ebon patterns woven in which stood barely visible. Various steel charms, chain and rosaries hung from her person. Yet, the most notable feature aside from how the light about her dimmed eerily was the dramatic paint she wore which covered her face in the depiction of a skull. Strands of her long fiery-orange hair hung from her cowl giving her a rough and frightful visage. Hemlock was evidently not pleased by the sight of the woman as he replied in curt greeting to the haunting figure. "...Inquisitor. " The woman spoke with a tone almost as stern as his, but seemingly burning with a level of conviction - or perhaps obsession which felt foreign to the Hemlock, who was just a man trying to get by. "...Sheriff." They had just noticed, that they had yet to see the woman actually blink.
The sheriff gestured at the girl. "I won't have any trouble in my own department. If you can't keep your hands to yourself, then get out of my office." The woman sneered, blinking - once. Slowly. "Fine." Hemlock crossed his arms, "Can you fix her?" The woman stalked over to the bed, bending over and taking a deep breath as if smelling something. Her face contorted into a scowl then relaxed, regaining her posture and looking at Belor. "...I can." Her gaze drifted towards Hands, "Twenty thousand..." Jim Hands staggered backwards, eyes wide in surprise, as if he were struck. "Beich, that's ten times ya' normal rate fer' scratches like dis!" The inquisitor didn't blink, "Twenty thousand... for this one."
Hearing the woman proclaim that she could fix whatever had caused this so confidently, or perhaps, whatever lingered, came as something of a shock. Her mind had raced looking for answers, but came up short. The only thing which she knew was that it was unlikely that the creature known as Ulbeelta was involved, though there was no way to be certain short of asking him herself. Something felt off, as if someone were watching her every move - waiting. Perhaps waiting for her to fail, or make those mistakes which she didn't even know she was making. A something stalking her, and now it had struck a blow. In her earliest memories, she could recall those she might have called friends - or perhaps even sisters, being trained in such magics which seemed to ebb and flow between various planes. The negative energy which they acquired was seemingly cleansed with relative ease, but not in a sense of something being healed but something being traded, or perhaps exchanged. She didn't understand her own memories anymore. It wasn't that whatever she had was simply not within her control any longer, she simply didn't understand it, and now it was made foreign and strange. (Stella | Knowledge - Partial)
Hemlock rolled his eyes, not surprised. He turned to face the rest of the group. It seemed like things just weren't going his way today. "Look, I don't need a story. I just need to know two things... Did you see the face of who did this, and did you see what struck your friend to deliver this wound?"
Spoiler
Show
Stella HP: 1/17
✦ Spited (Returner)
⭍ Spite increases by 1 (Knowledge: Forbidden)
⭍ Severity of spited effects increase due to Knowledge (Forbidden)
⭍ Stella's move speed is reduced by 10
⭍ Stella takes [roll0] points of constitution damage
⭍ Stella takes [roll1] points of wisdom damage
⭍ Stella's HP reduced to 0
⭍ Stella's checks other than Forbidden have failed due to Spite
⭍ Knowledge (Local) has been Spited and may not be used until Spite is reduced to 0
(Some effects of Spite remain active until the current value is lessened or removed completely)
֍ Stella XP +200
֍ Aden XP +100
֍ Arina XP +150
֍ Feliks XP +200
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
https://i.imgur.com/1Va9a4z.jpg
She was glad that the Sheriff hadn't wanted to deal with her issue out on the street, it had made sense of course since trying to fix her was going to be an event in and of itself. When the Young man had returned and pulled the Sheriff away to speak to him she strained her ears to listen in on the conversation. Worry filled her initially thinking that maybe they were going to be speaking in regards to her situation but she was surprised when it turned out that they were speaking about the Weeping Witch. Apparently it had struck again and caused a commotion, it also seemed that the belief that it only showed up at night was not true as well. The information she was getting from listening to them speak was being filed away in her mind. Hearing that the Rellos wanted the situation handled quietly and that they were also providing the healer for her was not something she was going to let sit for long. If they were willing to foot whatever cost was required to fix her up then she would see if assisting them with this issue would be something that could cover whatever debt she would have ended up in.
Wincing as the Sheriff put the impromptu band aids over the wound she felt a bit of relief flow into her that the man had understood what they were for. She would have blushed as having been picked up and carried by a man in such a way but the slight pain from the wound kept her cheeks from going red at being handled in such a way. She was grateful that he had the sense to put someone to guard their vehicles, it would have really annoyed her if someone had decided to tamper with them or to even have them stolen so soon after they had been recovered. Jim Hands was at the door waiting for them as they entered, as the Sheriff laid her down on the bed she was surprised that Jim had asked about her status. "Maybe the Rello are already wanting our help" the thought crossing her mind as Jim drew attention to the person he had fetched to fix her wound. Her guts would have turned in her stomach if they hadn't been in such a horrible state, the woman that Jim had brought was frightening. Her appearance scared her and she was hoping that everyone had the sense to keep her true nature as hidden as possible. As the woman moved towards her a feeling of dread began to take over, her body instinctively held it breadth and froze as the woman bent down and breathed in deeply. A shudder crept down her body as the woman stood back up, the her muscles shook slightly as they released the tension that had built.
Hearing that the woman could fix her was a blessing of sorts, hearing the price though stunned her for a moment her mind had tried to come up with answers to how it would be done but fell short. The price also shocked her... Twenty thousand gold was a lot of money, less than she owed the Club but still a significant more than all of her possessions combined cost. She hoped that the Rellos were willing to cover the cost and that maybe Feliks would learn something from watching this woman fix her. As her mind settled down another feeling took over, one of paranoia as she felt eyes fixed on her very being. As the memory of her sisters flitted down through her mind she wished again that she had kept her memories of those times as maybe they would have saved her from the state she now found herself in. The Sheriffs voice brought her back to the present, hearing that he didn't want the hole story and just wanted to know what did this caused a bit of relief to show on her face. Deciding it best that she spoke as to keep secrets a secret she projected her voice as best as she could, "The one who caused this is not one that I think you need to worry about Sheriff it should not affect others, the face of the one who did this could only be guessed at since we are not completely sure of it. As for what caused the wound, lets just say it was powerful magic that went wrong and backfired to punish me for its use." she put a bit of emphasis on the fact that this was not something the Sheriff had to worry about others being attacked by, she hoped that he would accept her reply and be done with the questions as she did not want to attempt to delve down the road. Turning her attention to Jim Hands, "If the Rellos would be willing to foot the bill for this then I would be grateful, then once I am well enough we could work out a beneficial arrangement for me to express my gratitude. Possibly with something you want kept quite for the time being?" She hoped that Jim would catch the hint that she knew about the situation at the Old Dragon and was willing to provide assistance if they would assist with her current predicament.
Spoiler: OOC
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How many of my "Band-aids" were used? not sure how large the would was.
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Arina helps bring Stella onto the wagon, grateful to be moving her somewhere safer and away from gawking crowds but still somewhat uneasy at Hemlock's continued interference. It's likely the man is just trying to help, and to make sure his town is safe, but the situation seems odd to her. She would feel better if they were allowed to solve the situation on their own.
Regardless, it didn't seem they had much choice in the matter, and she went along with the sheriff without complaint. She was surprised to see Hands still there, and even more so at the appearance of the healer. She looked more like an executioner. Arina watched all three of them as the Inquisitor examined Stella, and listened as she explained what had happened. Arina didn't really have anything to add to the story, as she hadn't been there, so instead she studied the expressions and words of the three strangers, falling back on her youth spent among scheming nobles and trying to figure out if they had some other stake or objective in the matter which they weren't saying directly.
Spoiler: OOC
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Sense Motive, if it's appropriate: [roll0]
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Aden helped the sheriff with Stella, staying close by her side as they made their way to the office. As they went, he muttered a prayer to the Starsong under his breath. He wasn't a religious man, but when things were rough...
"Wanderer of the stars, tender of dreams, guide our path through the darkness, give us wisdom to see the unseen."
It was the only prayer he knew. Found it in a coin pouch he swiped one early morning in Old Korvosa. Stuck with him through the years.
_____________________
Aden leaned against the wall by Stella's head as the healer came into the room. Whoever the hell this Hexenhammer was, Aden did not like her look. Did not like the sneer she gave as she examined his teammate. Did not like the price tag she gave.
Did not like the way mysterious woman in black said this one.
But Stella was willing to play nice, and it was her currently open side that needed fixing, so Aden would play along. At the mention of the Rellos, however, Aden snorted.
"Come to a mutually beneficial arrangement? Seems like we already had a mutually beneficial arrangement. They got what they wanted from us. And we still haven't received our compensation from being gassed and left for dead. I reckon this should cover that, eh Jim?"
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Re: The Primeval Dark (IC)
Felix mostly stood out of the other peoples way, assisting on from time to time as he needed to, such as helping to make sure Stella was bandaged enough to stop all of her guts from pouring out as they moved her. He didn't think it was coincidence that the whispering witch had appeared near the same time they were here with the witch in their party getting holes ripped into her.
Now that they were getting into some place where they could work on the patient a bit more, he looked over the [I]inquisitor/I]. A word that meant a person who punished people around her for breaking rules. Not laws, but rules of some kind. Usually some crusty old people in a church would create a decree that something was banned and was now heresy, and the inquisitors were their watch dogs on a divine mission to make sure the crusty old people's rules were followed. A job for psychopaths and the brainwashed.
He calculated her, stella, and the face markings. Trying to remember if her face markings were part of some religion, cult or otherwise. Or perhaps the woman was here from the Skull guy. Still, if Hexenhammer was going to start smashing skulls herself.. he was going to cut his losses and try to get the rest of the members out of there.
Spoiler: OOC
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[roll0] knowledge religion
[roll1] knowledge local