World War is (UN)Dead

[Grimsage Matt]

Each of you has a diffrent story. But there is one thing that remains the same. You were born alive. You had blood pumping through your veins, where forced to eat and drink, and had a biology that was frail and temporary.

But, you have become something better.

Now dead, after being the only surviors on a attack of a Dwarven Dragon Engine, you won't stay that way long. Welcome to the ranks of the undead. You'll be with us for a long time.....

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Each of opens your eyes, your flesh... unfeeling. For the briefest of moments, you listen for any noise, any clue. But you hear nothing. Not even your... once... beating... hearts....

And then you hear a scrape, as if a giant rat was moving slowly towards you. Your nostials flareing, you smell, a corpses stench, gravedirt and old blood, mixed with the smell of rat.

And then it lurches into view. A pale, dessicated looking wererat, no more alive then you are, with a clipboard in it's paws.

"Awake are ya? Bout time. Her ladyship been riding me tail bout you lot." For a brief moment, he just glares at you, giving you that annoyed look only the ratlike can pull off.

"Well, stir yer corpses, have to get you processed, get the damn paperwork and orintation done...."

DC 15 Listen

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"Why Stick Rilc-muck with the newborn? They don't know what if I be the rat that spied on dems...."

[CowMasterTrojan]

Groaning and slowly propping herself up, D'ssandra looks around the area trying to gather her surroundings. Suddenly it all came flashing back to her, even the moment of her death. Her body begins to convulse, and drops back to her knees, as the wave of memory paralyzes her for a moment.

She ignores the rat, covering her face. She would not allow another, especially this filth, to see her tears. She tried holding her breath, and then realized it was pointless. So she just tried to imagine the different ways she would one day use to kill this vermin. After a moment, it made it feel better. Focusing on the hatred was easier than focusing on her loss.

Standing up once more, she leans to the ground and picks up her hat, before checking she still had her weapons. Finally she turns her attention the the were-creature. Suddenly she realized how hungry she was. A powerful desire to drink this filth dry. But she fought it back. If she was going to become a homicidal murderer, she would at least have standards of who she ate. Once more she composed herself. No weaknesses for your enemies to see.

The pale skinned elf with dark hair looked into the eyes of the rat, already trying to appear confident and in control. "Where am I? I can recognize what I am, but who made like this? This ladyship you spoke of? Who is she? Tell me now vermin. I have much to do, don't waste my time."

Listen check (1d20+15)[27]

[Grimsage Matt]

The Rat just looks at you, seemingly bored.

"Always cranky when dey wake up, always cranky. Rilc-muck, Ratling Ghul, at yer 'service'." The last word is so heavy with sarcasm that you'd swear you could touch it.

"Anycase, best not to keep the Blood Mistress waiting Frehdead."

With that, he starts to poke some of the other bodies in the room.

[hoverfrog]

"Ha, ha. Oh the power." Kamaskra Mul grins broadly as his senses flood with new sensations. He can smell the rat thing, hear the scrape of earth as others awake around him, taste the blood still on his lips. Even his sense of the undead around him was enhanced. He could practically feel these creatures begging to be controlled. Not yet though, gather information first, then form a plan.

Listen (1d20+4)[7]

[loser0ll]

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I'll be using Italics and Green for my Personal Thoughts, Bold and Green for my spoken conversations, Underlined and Green for my Familiar's Spoken Conversation. Any successful Listen or Spot checks made by the Familiar are essentially made by myself - communicated by Speak With Master to avoid anyone listening in, even if we do share a language. I suppose I should go ahead and make the rolls for us now...
Listen - Bart(1d20+2)[14]
Listen - Shins(1d20+5)[12]

Lying down, the newly-created Vampire known by his glorious name, Barthemis Thomas, finally awoke. His Raven companion sat next to him, watching silently. For several moments, the freshly promoted being looked out into the world. A set of new, empowered eyes looked around. New, empowered ears listened in on everything. He could feel the new power running through his body. He could feel the new might in his sight itself - sight which could paralyze an opponent without so much as a word now! Before today, I was nothing but a man who wildly gambled and threw his fate into the winds of nothing. But now, I am different. Now, I am someth-

Suddenly, his Raven pecks him on the forehead. Immediately after pecking him, it begins to squawk at him. He replies to it - they go back and forth for several moments, before he finally sits up, while the Raven bounces onto his shoulder. He doesn't speak - but from the looks of things, the Raven is much more pleased with the results of the conversation(?) than the new-found Vampire is.

[Sjurd]

With a sputtering, hacking cough, another body crawls out of the heap. Unlike the pristine, alabaster beauty of the others, this new person is decidedly... less fresh. Numerous cuts and gashes mar his skin, which is rotting and putrid and hanging from his frame. His face is gaunt and slimy, with black tufts of black hair, yellow eyes, and a lipless mouth that reveals gnarled, yellowed teeth. His skin is greenish gray. The stench of decay follows him like a mantle.

He smiles, in what could only be described as disturbing and horrifying. "Hi! I'm Andy!" He looks at his hands, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "I guess I'm... dead?" He looks to the ratling ghul. "We're all dead, right?"

[Grimsage Matt]

The Rat gives "Andy" THE LOOK. The type of look self-rightious beucrats get when dealing with those they consider to be a waste of time.

"Of course your not dead. It's just that you can move without a heartbeat, talk without breating, or lets see.... at least half of your face has rotted off. So either your a Dreg Knight, Or your a ghoul. Guess which? Look Freshdead, I don't care what you did to get the promotion. My job is just to give you the tour, show you the feeding area and take you to her ladyship. Now vampires, please get any Egotistic Meglomania out of your systems for the next half hour. Now, if any bodies remain, let's begin the tour."

[loser0ll]

Evidently, Bart seems to have recovered pretty well by the time to leave off - at the very least, he was laughing a small bit at the tone used for the word 'service' a small bit. Just a light chuckle, but enough to show that the Raven had talked him out of whatever sort of "I shall rule the world!" mindset he might have been considering to hold on to now that he was a Vampire. While the look he gives the newly awakened questioneer isn't as rough as Rilc-muck's, he does seem to see it as a bit pointless - after all, they were all 'promoted' to the ranks of the Undead thanks to an event where they were the only survivors, stuck on the same team. But pointless questions were a lot like sucker bets : Bart would never fuss when another person wanted to make them.

"Well then, Mister Rilc-muck, please feel free to lead the way. We'll be please to follow you - at least the Raven and myself will. Oh, please call me Bart, if you don't mind. The Raven goes by Shins, but unless you speak Draconian I doubt it'll understand enough words to hold up a conversation with you."

[Grimsage Matt]

The Rat makes a bow, then turns towards the door.

"Lets procede."

As the rat leads up up the stairs, made of darkstone that almost seems to suck the light out of the air, and removes the warmth, with the occasional bone embellishment.

Eventualy, after a simple path, up three flights, right twice and left once, you come to a area where a number of humans, elves and even a dwarf are kept in cages.

"Pick whichever one of want, you don't kill or turn them. Have to feed most of the keep after all."

[Visturon]

Thorkod

A man sits up a little separate from both the newly turned vampires and the ghoul who crawled free from the pile of bodies left dead. He has the grizzled look of a man who knows only war and his leather armor has clearly seen plenty of action but is well maintained and oiled. He immediately checks his sword and then his beard before taking a good look at the rat and the others who have clearly just woken up nearby. He has a slightly insubstantial look to him, as though he is ghosting and his eyes glow with a faint violet light.

I don't rightly care who gives the orders, a soldier kills who he's told and that's that. Name's Thorkod Amakiir, but the boys all called me Sarge.

He follows along with the group after wiping his sword clean. He does not sheath the sword but rather carries it gripped backward in his left hand.

[CowMasterTrojan]

The Rat makes a bow, then turns towards the door.

"Lets procede."

As the rat leads up up the stairs, made of darkstone that almost seems to suck the light out of the air, and removes the warmth, with the occasional bone embellishment.

Eventualy, after a simple path, up three flights, right twice and left once, you come to a area where a number of humans, elves and even a dwarf are kept in cages.

"Pick whichever one of want, you don't kill or turn them. Have to feed most of the keep after all."

Keeping her eyes hidden under her hat, D'ssandra carefully walks down the cages eying the prisoners. Seh scoffs at the dwarf, and makes a 'meh' sound at the humans before coming to the elves. For reasons she just assumed, she believed they would be the quality meals.
"What, no Drow?" She says, disappointingly before picking the cage of a weak looking female elf. "Nothing personal..." she says as she enters, before pinning the female down and biting into her neck.

Drinking as slowly as possibly, she tries to savor her meal. Somehow she knew it would not be this easy in the future. The taste was all she expected, and more, and D'ssandra struggles with herself for several moments before she manages the willpower to pull away. She was satisfied for now, but she was far from full. She suspected 'The lady' would try to control them with it. She frowned at the thought of being controlled like a puppet, before wiping her mouth clean.

All in all, she takes 6 con from the elf.

[Grimsage Matt]

Muck just shakes his head. "All the drow are in her ladyships private reserve. And she don't share, not in the 40 years I've been here anyway."

Knowledge [Nature] or Heal DC 20 check

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He looks to be no older then 28

The elven woman moans, crying slighting, and as you drain her... she sounds almost... very enthusastic. After you drop her to the floor, she wispers out, "Thank you mistress."

[Sjurd]

Andy frowns at the offer of draining blood. "Aw, shucks. That's not going to whet my appetite. Do you happen to have any around here that, you know, were drained more than they should have been?" He smiles earnestly, and several flecks of viscous saliva sail from his mouth.

[Grimsage Matt]

Muck goes over to the dwarf and rips one of it's arms off.

"There you go."

Over the next few minuites, you can see that the dwarf is regrowing it's arm.

[loser0ll]

The strangely behaving bird and it's humanoid-vampire-familiar, at least that's the look they've given off half of the time so far, move on with the group. When they're finally in the room with obvious food-samples, the bird looks more than a bit disgusted by it, while the Vampire looks... a bit unhappy himself. Evidently, he had tasted blood a few times since being informed that he would be 'promoted' in order to get used to the taste. The results were not wonderful - he might have managed to get used to it a bit over the last few days, but not enjoy the flavor. So he picks a random Human and bites down a bit - drawing not the the benefits of a full meal, but only the tiny taste of a single round.

When he pulls away, you can see from the look in his eyes that the taste was not as he expected. Instead of being "unpleasant but necessary" it was "delicious enough to drain through the entire day" to him! He loved the flavor, and began looking around the room, tasting several others slowly, only for small dosages each - it might be delicious, but there's no need to drain a feeder to near death when you can leave him fairly healthy and ready to recover, while moving on to another equally delicious food source. Still, eventually, he has left himself full and satisfied, so he nods to the guide, showing himself as ready to go and very satisfied.

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Knowledge Nature attempt (Raven fails automatically)(1d20+2)[11]
Heal attempt(Shins)(1d20+2)[7]
Heal attempt(1d20)[12]

[CowMasterTrojan]

Knowledge (nature) (1d20+5)[16]
Heal (1d20+2)[13]

Ignoring the oddness of the woman's thanks, she turns back to the rat.
"If they are not the lady's reserve, whose reserve do these people belong to?" She asks inquisitively. Now that she had fed, her desire to shoot the rat had increased dramatically. She found her hand twitchy on the gun in her holster.

[Visturon]

Thorkod

Thorkod watches the feeding with a kind of impassive nonchalance while he takes out a bit of dried meat from his belt pouch and gnaws on it slowly. He assumes a relaxed position leaning on the wall by the door, he rests his sword with its point to the floor and absently spins it like a top in his hand.

[hoverfrog]

"Elf, human, dwarf, which to try first?" Kamaskra walks among the cattle and eventually just grabs someone at random and feeds, "It's just food, makes no difference I suppose."

[Sjurd]

"Wow, no way!" Andy cheerfully takes the arm and bites right into the bicep. Blood dribbles down his chin. "Oh, gosh! That's juicy. Here, let me take one for the road." Reaching over, he yanks off the other arm of the dwarf. "Sorry." He tucks it in his belt and keeps chewing the first arm as he turns and waits for the group to be ready to go.

[Grimsage Matt]

"These are the common cattle. More accuratly, this is feeding pen number 6. They've been trained to enjoy it, and the cattlesmiths make sure they last as long as possible. While there are planed meal times, you may talk to a quartermaster if you feel peckish. Now, if your hunger is under control, I shall take you to her ladyship."

[CowMasterTrojan]

"And how does one be trained to find pain pleasurable?... You know what? Forget I asked. I don't want to know. Lead the way." D'ssandra says, fixing her hat before following the wererat.

[hoverfrog]

"I suppose that training makes them more manageable," Kamaskra ponders aloud. "Hey, Rilc-muck! Where'd my familiar get to?" He concentrates on the connection he has to the quasit, Arksamak, but other than a sense that he lives cannot feel anything. The sneaky little bugger was probably hiding.

[Visturon]

Thorkod

Off to meet this Lady of yours then. Thorkod walks over near Muck, swinging his broad bladed bastard sword back into the backhanded hold with his left hand. Whenever you're ready friend. He stands by calmly, ready to follow the lycanthropic ghoul.

[Sjurd]

"Mmhmm." Andy confirms around bites of dwarf arm.

[Grimsage Matt]

"Follow me then Freshdead."

As you follow muck, you feel as if you are going ever higher, and yet it seems to be getting even darker. The undead among you, so all but the raven, feel... great. As if energy was seeping into them.

And thats when you notice her.

Everything about her... seems to put perfection to shame. Even Andy and Thorkod feel a tug of longing, of belonging to this drow woman. For them, it lasts but a moment, but for the vampires? You have come face to face with your "Mother", the one whose blood now flows in your viens.

And as the Drow Woman opens her mouth, and you cn feel your minds begin to relax, almost against your will.

"Hello children. It it good to see you are up now. I trust Muck has been taking care of you?"

Muck almost blushes.

"Blood Mistress Telis'vansa, I awaited their awakening and showed them to the feeding pen, as ordered, then brought them to you."

He's on his knees at the last bit.

[Visturon]

Thorkod

Placing his right hand across his chest, Thorkod makes a bow, no more than a deep nod of his head and a slight forward lean of his shoulders. Lady It's clear that for him this is still a great show of reverence. He then returns to his casual yet watchful posture with his broadsword held pointy end up behind his left shoulder.

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Listen (1d20+8)[26]
Search (1d20+5)[13]

[hoverfrog]

She has power over me. That is intolerable. "My queen," Kamaskra bows deeply, keeping his rage locked down tightly.

[CowMasterTrojan]

A chill running down her spine, D'ssandra steps from where she was in the back of the group, into a shadowed part of the room. The eyes of the pale elf scans the room slowly looking for exits and dangers, feeling that the lady has both waiting for them. Her hand is drawn to the wooden handle of her gun, and she meets the gaze of the lady with a bold sense of defiance.

Murmuring to herself in the drow dialect she had not used in many years she says "Our re-maker I presume?"

[loser0ll]

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I really hate the way the system regularly refuses to allow action on the site due to overly busy servers. Especially when we've just clicked "Post Reply" and typed up our response. I had one earlier today that showed my character having an unusual response to her own personal power and charisma as a leader. It was all neat, I thought. But it wouldn't post! So now I'm going to just throw out a simple one, as an act of frustration towards earlier. Sorry about this. :(

The man-bird pair move forward with their guide, with the man portion seeming to be more than satisfied at his recent and very tasty assortment of flavors. When they reach the room of the creator, one might normally expect some sort of humorous attitude or pointless statement from the Sorcerer of the group - but in this case there is nothing of the sort. He seems to be nearly paralyzed to meet someone so far -truly- above him. The act of meeting someone who had just managed to wield the power to create him leaves him without a reply to her greetings. Evidently, even a Vampiric spellcaster is not guaranteed to have a great greeting to every meeting.

[Sjurd]

Andy takes a knee, placing a hand over what used to be his heart. Gosh, she sure is pretty.