Lost in the Depths... [IC]

[Timaoh]

MORDUN

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One day whilst Mordun is hiking up and down mountainside paths searching for some truth to a rumour he had heard about a tower being built in the next valley over to serve as a refuge for some reclusive unnatural. While he was making his way along a particularly trecherous portion of the cliff face his dwarven intuition was piqued by something unnatural in the rock he was clinging to.

Without any further notice the rock itself swelled around his hands and feet pinning him in place. The cold from the stone slowly numbing his hands and chilling his body and soul completely. No amount of struggling or cursing unnaturals and their ilk seemed to have any effect and he was eventually consumed by the earth itself. Consciousness faded into a hazy preternatural existence devoid of anything except the confining darkness and the weight of stone embracing him.

(OOC: Who's next? I'm waiting on initiative. I will tie you all in similarly then go on to explain your surroundings as a group.)

[Timaoh]

Lialei Heartblossom

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Lialei had become accostomed to her forest paths and patrolling the borders of her land. She was always warry and vigilant of dangers to herself and others who might not be as watchful. Whenever she descovered a new hazard or trecherous plot of land she would do her best to ward others from the area with common trail markers warning of danger.
She was setting a marker on just such as occassion to ward travelers of a pit that had opened as a result of too much rain and the bank of the path eroding into a deep sinkhole. When she noticed the traces of smoke on the wind she was not alarmed at first. It was not all that uncommon for travelers and hunters to be about the paths and trails in the area. She dismissed the scent on the wind as nothing out of place and went back to placing markers and trying to fence in the sinkhole with briars.

It wasn't until late in the day when she was exhausted from her long hours of labour and had finally finished her task that she noted the pressence of smoke was still in the air. She had become accustomed to the scent and only noticed now the slight haze of smoke that was gathering about the hole she had been working to protect. Immediately alarmed she decided she had better check on the source of the fire in order to discover it's source. Perhaps there were some adventurers or a gathering of some sort... a feast perhaps? It was close to the harvest season and there were a few settlements of primative races nearby. Perhaps they were responsible for the smoke on the winds.

Without any further speculation or debate she set off. Wuickly settling into her practiced strides and devouring ground beneath her as she sprinted through the undergrowth towards the smoke. As she ran it became harder and harder for her to breathe, she noted with alarm that it was also becoming hotter the thicker the smoke was. She was almost running doubled over just to keep her head out of the clouds of smoke now billowing from between the trees. It stung her eyes and her lungs as she dragged in ragged breaths. She didn't bother wiping the tears from her eyes. Even if she were not crying from the smoke tears would flow freely. This was her forest and her home being destroyed. She knew every path and trail and every tree that was now being consumed by fire.

She no longer debated the source of the fire this much smoke could only mean that there were a great many trees on fire. She franticly searched her memory of her forest for a nearby water source and altered her course to bring her near it. Eventually splashing into the shallow water of the stream she used the cool water to clear the ashes from her face and began the grim task of hauling water and trying to stop the fire from spreading. She knew others would come. Her fellow scouts and wardens of the woods would soon discover the plight of their home as the animals brought them warnings and tales of the fire. She worked alone into dusk never stoping, she had cut a swath accross the fires path and was confident that she had made a difference. Her presence seemed to bolster the resolve of nature around her and the fire seemed held at bay. She trudged back to the stream for more water to continue her work. Barely able to stand she dropped to one knee... she had been working for hours and was now utterly exhausted. She felt herself being dragged down by the aches and soreness of her limbs. On all fours now she could imagine sleeping amidts the cool forest bed watching the limbs swaying above her head in the breeze.

She wasn't even alarmed when she felt herself sinking down towards the ground... no not towards... into the ground... but she was too tired to care. She gave into the urge to close her eyes and rest. Darkness came quickly and Lialei was unaware that the darkness was magical instead of natural.

...She slept.

[Timaoh]

Habadur Turnous

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Habadur having heard of a religous cult on his travels that were familiar with undead and rites revolving around them was intrigued to hear of others of his order. At first disbelieving that others could have the same ideals as he and his brothers could have so far from his home. Such was the mystery and power of his God he surmised. Quickly he set out to find them and rekindle his association with them. He wanted to show them all he had discovered and learned in his travels, his new found power and abilities. He was excited and relieved after having spent so many years studying and traveling with those who did not believe and who saw his faith as evil and who could never understand the truth. He would finally be among those who appreciated and understood his views as he did.

He made his way along the coast and towards the forested cliff that they supposedly had built a large monastary upon. Although the people he talked to among the outlying villages and towns spoke of cruel torture and unspeakable acts of depravity from those who lived high on the cliff surrounded by forest. They also claimed the woods were haunted at night and that devils and demons prowled after dark. Such were the tales and flights of fancy he had endured all his years as he travelled among the ignorant masses who understood little of his divine order and the quest for knowledge that they pursued dogmatically. How could they understand? They were ignorant of the ways of his order and their true intentions, of course anything outside the percieved normalacy would be shunned and reviled by those who were unlearned and unable to comprehend.

So Habadur travelled and encountered none of the supposed dangers of the forest. Seeing neither demon nor monster on the well-worn path bolstered his spirits. Those people must have enjoyed trying to torment visitors and passers-by with their tales of woe. He chuckled to himself thinking of the simpletons who must be scared by such obviously fradulant claims. There was nothing even remotely evil about this forest. The birds sang and the trees swayed merrily as he walked among them.

Finally after a full days travel and an afternoon of asscending the steep path that lazily wound its way up the steep cliff Habadur came at last to a very large and imposing gate set into a wall that stetched 30 feet high. He was impressed by the drawings and the friezes set into the face of the door. Now he understood the paranoia of the people a little better. The faces and bodies of the people carved into the door were wretched and withered looking. As though the life had been sucked from them, twisted as though in pain. Sneers and faces full of agony and pain stared back at him as he studied the door. Msterful he thought to himself. A true testament to their work, if a bit morbid for his taste.

He reached up for the large rope off to one side of the large door and gave it a steady pull. Behind the doors hes could clearly hear a bell toll, and feet as people stirred. He heard a slidding shutter open in the door and moved to stand in front of it. He announced himself and was met by a surly looking face in the small opening who asked about his business and then grudgingly allowed him entry into the monastary, through a small door set into one side of the larger doors. As Habadur stepped through the doorway he was startled to see that the open area of the monastary was crowded with people. He tried to stand a little straighter and pushed back the weariness of the days travel from his mind. As he did so something struck him as odd. There were people of all stations of life here, not just monks and clerics as he had expected to find. There were trades people and merchants and all sorts from all different avenues of life. The other thing struck him as odd was that they all dressed in styles and a manner that suggested nobility. However it was an older style that he had not seen in years.

Quickly dismissing these as unimportant issues he set about getting to know those who were gathered about the courtyard. He had yet to see any symbols of his order but assumed these people were simple followers come to pay homage and ask for services of his faith. He was just finishing his rounds when he saw the doors to the main building open out of the corner of his vision and saw three of the most beutiful women he had ever seen emerge from the building. He was imediately charmed by them, finding their alure irresistable he found himself staring at them as they came towards him through the crowd. They were dressed in fine gowns that shimmered in the now dull light of the moon. Was it so late? He wondered to himself. No matter soon he would have a room for the night and he could rest there and begin the task of discussing business with those of his order who resided here.

The three women walked towards him with a grace and fluidity that spoke of a sensuality and a certainty borne of self confidence. The woman on the right was garbed in a light green with cream coloured lace that danced along a bodice that was daringly cut to expose almost all of her femanine features for any who would look. Her eyes were dark and alluring and her face was angular and refined. Her dark hair was swept into a mass of curls and help in place by a miriad of jewelled pins that sparkled and danced in the moonlight as though they themselves were alive.
The woman on the left was dressed more plainly than the two beside her. Her hands clasped demurely in front of herself and the pale skin of her arms was contrasted dramatically by the dark satin black of her gown. Trimmed with silver thread and small diamonds as accents she was short and elfin where the others were tall and fit. She stood meeting his gaze occassionally but looking down and straightening her gown, as though nervous. Her dark hair mirrored the woman on the right but where her hair was full of curls and bounce this ones hair was cut short and straight held in place by a circlet covered in diamonds as perfect as her skin.
The third woman stood as though she commanded the attention of everyone within her gaze. That everything she saw she expected to obey her demands. Her attitude was further enhanced by the high nechline of her yellow and gold gown. Sparkling with golden thread and lace she seemed majestic and regal. Her face was set in a stern expression and she was clearly the eldest of the three and in charge. She radiated a confidence that was unsettling and the effect only increased as tenssion grew with the silence.

Finally she spoke and her powerful voice filled the still air of the night. "Who are you that dares to so boldly comes where none shall tread uninvited?" She demanded. At a loss for words at this exclamation Habadur searched for a suitable answer, finding none. He waited. "It has been years since one of your kind has dared to venture here." She continued unfazed by his silence. "Were i younger i would play with you and entertain myself into the long hours of the night. However such things are beneath me now and this matter will be settled by the council of three. Your fate will be brought to you in the morning, as we decide it this night." With that final proclimation she nodded to those around Habadur and the night filled with the sound of metal being unsheathed. With an inward groan Habadur cursed his ill fate and tried to reason with those around him telling them who he was and what his intentions were. That he was not from the village but atraveller and a follower of their ways.

The woman turned slowly and rested her gaze upon him. Habadur had the feeling that she was staring into him more than she was looking at him. He shuddered and tried to calm himself. "If you are a true follower of our ways then you will have nothing to fear. Surrender yourself into our care and we will decide your fate as your superiors." With the last sentance she seemed amused smirking with the last words. Reluctantly Habadur allowed them to take him into their custody and was brought to a chamber on the second floor. Not at all what he expected he was brought to a lavish room with all sorts of delicacies and extravagant ameneties within the room. Food was piled high on one of the tables as though a feast had been underway when he arived. There were even clean clothes and a hot bath awaiting him in the far corner behind a screen. This isn't half bad he though to himself as he imediately decided to take advantage of his good fortune.

After a bath and changing into clean clothes he ate his fill of the most splendid food he had ever tasted. Eating twice as much as he would normally have thought polite. He was lounging in a chair sipping the most splendid selection of cordials he had ever had when he heard a noise stir the tapestyr behind him and a gust of cool air waft towards him from the same direction. He turned and was alarmed and yet pleased to see the youngest of the three standing behind him with her back to the tapestry hurriedly smoothing it back in place. Her gaze met his and for an instant he though he saw sadness in here eyes and something else which he couldn't place before her expression changed to one of determination.

Standing before him she seemed more childish without the two other women. She couldn't be much older than 18 or so he guessed. Just entering into womanhood, her pale skin and large dark eyes felt as though they were drawing him in. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Where are my manners?" He said appologetically. "I am Ha..." She interupted him by reaching up and grabing the back of his head. Habadur sought to resist but she was far stronger than she had seemed. This whelp of a girl was able to bring her lips to his for just a moment and the sensation shocked Habadur as he felt magic stronger than any he had ever felt before course through him. Finally able to gather his senses he pulled the girl away and she allowed herself to be pushed away he realised. She smiled up at him with a playful smile. "They wanted to kill you. They can't now that you are mine." She said to him matter of factly. "However it still is not safe for you to remain here. You must flee and never return to these lands or they will find you and kill you as they sought to this night." Stunned Habadur was struggling to make sense of all the unknown and inexplicable things that were happinging to him and around him. He never wanted any of this, had never asked for any of this.

He looked up at the girl who felt his equal even though he towered over her. She was slight but strong, he knew that now. She half dragged him towards the wall where the tapestry she had stood in front of hung. Reaching up into the wall she twisted her hand in a small gensture and the wall behind the tapestry faded away. Staring into the space beyond Habadur recognised the woods he had walked through earlier that day. He began to step forward and stopped. Looking back at the girl feeling a large mixture of emotions and still unsure of what had happened and what was to happen. He stepped through the opening, turning as he passed through to catch one final glimpse of her face. She was nowhere to be seen. The opening had vanished without a trace and he was alone in the woods. For the first time in his life he was scared and felt more alone then all his years travelling and for all his time spent alone studying. Now was the first time it had ever bothered him or that he had though about it in a negative way.

He ran... his legs accustomed to walking he stumbled as he ran... His mind reeling with the events of the day. He ran... Thinking thoughts of this girl-turned saviour. He ran... Feeling the earth speed by beneath him. He ran... and ran until he could run no more. Colapsing exhausted at the edge of the woods he welcomed the darkness the crept over him. Secure in the fact that he was far from the events of tonight he slept... and dreamt... of her.

So exhausted from the night before he didn't even wake when the sun lit his face and when the morning came only a few hours after he had collapsed. He slept the sleep of the exhausted and did not even stir at the touch of the cold stone. As the grey cold grasp of the stone seeped around his limbs and covered him. He lay there prone and uncaring until the darkness consumed him completely.

[Timaoh]

Fethen Talvarson

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Having heard many rumours about creatures and adventurers disappearing lately all about the continent Fethen had decided to research and document whatever information he could find on the matter. Traveling to various locations where reported mysterious disappearances had occured. He set about identifying commonalities between them. Two that he knew of had transpired near temperate forests, and one of those and another had occured near rock formations caused by geo-syncratic events based off of techtonic activity. No corelation there, it would seem. He sat for months studying the factors and the relationships between the disappearances going over his notes and sketches again and again.

He had requested assistance from some of his collegues but they were each more busy than the last and just as interested in their own mysteries and unsolved riddles of magical occurances. It wasn't until one day that he had the idea of formulating a pattern based on the timing and the extrapolation of longitudinal corelation of the sites of apperature that he descovered he might actually be able to predict the next anomaly that was causing the disappearances. He was certain that there must be some sort of logical phenominon or explanation as to the existance of whatever was responsible.

So he charted maps and astrological patterns and planned everything down to the most minute detail until finally he had uncovered a pattern that would lead him to the next random concentration of anomalies that seemed prevalent in the areas surrounding each occurance and which would give him the best opportunity to witness the anomaly himself and document it fully.

He made his preparations and set out to gather his most important research findings to ever be conducted in the name of magic. Imagine if he could harness the power or what arcane knowledge might be found simply through the study of one of these anomalous occurances. Either natural or constructed it stood to reason that a great amount of power was being expended. To what purpose he began to wonder over the weeks it took him to travel. Teleportation would have been faster he mused to himself,but would have left him with less time to prepare. There were also all the tools and measurement devices he wanted to bring with him. Which never would have survived the spell. He sat back in his seat and let the scenery scrolling by the window of the coach entertain his thoughts.

Finally they arrived where he had predicted the next occurance would take place. Inland some distance away from the shore which was unusual as the other occurances had all take place near the coast. He thought again about his theory about the magnetic pull of the earth influencing his readings and joted some quick notes to assure himself that his calculations were indeed acurate. Satisfied he began ordering the workmen to set up all the aparatus and magical measurement equipment he had brought with him. He settled down next to the artisans he had brought along on this expedition to sketch and map out the land where the phenomenon would take place.

With barely two days left until the actual convergence of events that would coalesce into the subject of his obsession of late. He was eager to see everything readied and put into place so that nothing would be missed.

The morning of the occurance he awoke early and feeling more cheerful than any other day he began to ready himself for his most prolific discovery. He re-checked everything to make sure everything all was ready to measure and record the magical and scientific information that would be needed to confirm his findings and explain what had been happening.

At around midday a few hours before the time when the event was to take place he noticed something out of place. He was watching the horizon and noticed a faint plume of dust rising off the road that they were near. The hill they had arrayed all manner of devices and contraptions upon was well defended by a few juniour apprentices he had brought and the workers they had paid well to help with the equipment and defend them during the journey as well. What he was worried about was that this possible intrusion of travellers could very well inferfere with his entire experiment. If any of the conditions were not perfect then everything would be ruined. With a single-minded determination Fethen set out to halt the interlopers and assure the success of his experiment.

Calling out to some of the hired hands he began to make his way down the hill towards the valley to intercept them on the road before they reached the bottom of the valley and the point which the experiment would focus upon. Arriving well ahead of whoever was travelling towards them Fethen decided to reherse what he would say. After running through several different approaches of possible vernacular he decided the best approach would be the most honest and forthright. Telling the travellers that they were endagering themselves to perils unknown and that if they waited but an hour they would be safe.

Soon the travellers came into view, a few men on horseback, and a wagon laden with goods. Upon seeing the men and Fethen gathered apparently awaiting their arrival the men on horseback seemed to grow anxious and slowed their pace discussing what they should do. Alarmed at their reaction Fethen at once realised his mistake and rode forward motioning his men to stay back. He called out to the men with the wagon telling them they were safe and that he and his men were not brigands but merely wished to talk and warn them of dangers ahead. The men relaxed at once and started joking with one another over who was most scared over the percieved threat.

Soon fethen was among them and explaining the dangers ahead and the men seemed most grateful for the warning and they thanked Fethen and offered him a place at their fire that night if he would like to share their repast as a way of thanking him for his considerate actions. He accepted delighted at being able to get away from the dredful cooking of the young apprentices he had brought along cared little for culinary persuits and had only passable skill with cooking outdoors. His spirits bolstered Fethen made his way back to his camp in time to prepare. Everything was in place and he was growing increasingly anxious.

...Two hours after his predicted time of the occurance nothing had happened and Fethen was so forlorn that noone could console him. How could he have been wrong? He had calculated everything so precisely so perfectly and yet somehow he had missed something. He looked over all his notes again and was reading them through when one of the hired hands came and spoke to him. He said that he and the others were heading down to the camp of the travellers who had offered them to join their fire earlier that day and asked if he would join them. Fethen was about to refuse caught up in his studies and self-deprication but instead decided perhaps some friendly company and good food could clear his mind and allow him to concentrate better. He gathered his pack and made his way down toward the other camp with the hired hand and was delighteed to hear music and merriment in the camp below.

They talked and danced and ate some of the best food Fethen had tasted in weeks. Late into the night they continued to enjoy the fire-side tales and refreshing company of other travellers. Until finally the night was pierced by a shrill scream. Everyone stopped at once and silence took over the camp. The only sounds came from nervous coughs and the snapping fire. Finally a man stood up accross the fire from Fethen and anounced that he would investigate the scream. He stalked off into the darkness surounding the camp seeming more angry than alarmed or afraid.

Fethen intrigued by the occurance and the mans response followed him hoping that perhaps he could lend a hand or magical aid if need be. So he ventured into the darkness to find the man. Without walking very far he soon heard voices coming from very close by. Something about how she shouldn't have come and he should have known better. Straining to hear Fethen decided he should anounce himself rather than evesdrop further, calling out he walked to where he thought the source of the discussion had come from. He nearly stumbled and decided that he had had enough of this stumbling about in darkness. A few moments later as though some diety had intervened the man he had seen leave the camp stood in front of him holding a torch.

He looked to be at his wits end. Huddled around his legs staring up at Fethen was a girl just starting her journey into adolescence. She stared back at him with accusation in her eyes as though he had interupted something important. With a mumbled appology Fethen was about to leave when the girl shrieked again. Both men turned to look down at her as she screamed and noticed with alarm that her feet had both turned grey. Fethen was elated. Finally something mystical was happening and he was a witness. As quickly as his excitment came it was replaced by the expression of the man in front of him. Anger and loathing danced accross his face as he grabbed Fethen and demanded that he release the child. Fethen with little idea of what he was talking about tried to explain that this was the danger he had predicted would befall them. The man seemed to hear his words but did not understand them completely. He let go of Fethen realising the sincerity and truth in his words and rushed to the little girl. Doing his best to comfort and console her Fethen noticed with alarm that the greyness was spreading up her body and clothing. He stood transfixed studying her skin as it was slowly and hungrily devoured by the greyness creeping up her entire body. Hey eyes fluttered as she tried to keep them open. By the time the grey entity or malady, whatever it was reached her torso her eyes were closed and the man in front of Fethen was crying holding her to his chest.

It wasn't until that moment that Fethen realised thatthe man was also being covered by the same greyness. It was almost fully up the mans legs at this point and was quickly covering him. Alot more quickly than it covered the girl Fethen realised. The mans shoulders slumped as though he was becoming weary. Remarkable Fethen thought to himself as he stifled a yawn. It must be getting quite late he thought to himself, as he brought his hand up to his mouth to stiffle a second yawn he noticed something odd in the light of the torch.

...his hand was grey!...and then the darkness overcame him.

Bariaus Kazaphran

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After travelling for what seemed like months without Marietta travelling with this band of mercenaries guarding wagons and caravans he was starting to miss her. Bariaus knew it had only been a few weeks but those weeks were devoid of laughter and while he enjoyed his work and wanted to continue. He also felt lonely. The men he traveled with talked endlessly about their families and friends back home and that did little to help Bariaus' mood. He had decided that he would return to see her for the next festival which was only a few weeks away. That would make her happy. He thought to himself of how he would suprise her with a gift when he saw her again. He could afford such things now that he had a steady job and almost 4000 gold saved up. He thought of all the things he might buy for her or all the places they might travel together.

Sighing and bringing himself out of his reverie Bariaus glanced from side to side stretching in the saddle. It was almost midday and they would be stopping soon. They had started early in the day and were already weary. They were riding up a slight incline when he noticed the wagon slow and the other men he was travelling with begin to shift in their saddles and glance at eachother. Then he saw what was making them nervous. Up ahead on the road was a band of horsemen waiting in the middle of the road for them to approach. The men around Bariaus were discussing tactics and how they might turn this encounter in their favour. Bariaus was going to supply his own opinion reguarding tactics and advantages he could see when suddenly one of the horsemen began riding towards them. The men around him eased theeir weapons from their sheath and he did the same. The man rode perhaps ten feet away from his companions and began calling out to them.

He was yelling jiberish about magical influences and alot of things that Bariaus had never heard of before. Apparently the mad was trying to warn them. Bariaus told the others that this was his impression and soon they began joking about being scared by a mage and his servants. Bariaus chuckle good-naturedly, he knew that mages could be fearsome when necessary. Raining death and destruction to masses more quickly and in ways swordsmen never could. The man rode up and explained himself more clearly now that he was not nearly as excited. He said his name was Fethenand he was here to study some sort of anomaly and it would be dangerous for them to continue to travel today.

Not understanding the complexity of what he said but seeing the wisdom of his words the party called a halt and offered to share their fire with the mage and his men as a means of thanks. They had little to offer they told him except their company and the skill of their cook. The men all heartily endorsed the skill of the cook and Fethen himself seemed excited at the prospect so they agreed to meet later that night once the experiment had been concluded and the danger had passed.

Bariaus saw nothing spectacular happen throughout the day but didn't say anything. It was wise to steer clear of mages and their "experiments" noone ever knew what to expect from them. He was finished setting up camp and the food was almost ready when some of the mercenaries began unpacking their instruments and playing merry tunes. Some even began bawdy songs and dancing about the fire. Some pretending to be the wenches from the songs and the others to be the dashing hero from the songs they were re-enacting a particularly vulgar song about a prince and his sausage with magical abilities to charm any young maiden who happened to pass by. Bariausshook his head at a particularly vulgar stanza as the men errupted with laughter.

The mage from earlier that day walked into the firelight not much after the food was ready and began talking with the other men nearby. He was going on about how his experiment hadn't turned out as he had expected and the men were trying to cheer him up telling him tomorrow would be better and pushing food and drink into his empty hands. Bariaus was contemplating getting up from his bedroll and getting some food now that it was ready and a few of the others already had their bowls full of stew. When he heard a familiar shriek of terror. He immediately sat bolt upright. Marietta!? He thought he had heard it in his mind but then noticed that it was silent where moments before everyone had been laughing and joking and the noises of camp had filled the night.

Standing up Bariaus set his resolve and decided that he would go and see what had made the noise. The other men in the group knew he was as reliable if not more so than any of them acquiesed and he quickly made his way towards the edge of their small camp and down into the valley beyond. He had travelled for maybe ten minutes when he finally came upon her. She was lying on her stomach and crying into the dirt her small fists clenched angrily and covered in dirt from where he supposed she had tried to catch herself when she fell.

She looked up at him and his intention to scold her faded immediately instead he helped her onto her knees and gave her the biggest hug. He told her that he loved her and hat she shouldn't have follwed him. It was dangerous and he would have come back for her. She began to cry and he didn't understand fully but assumed it was because she was scared. He heard a noise behind him and stood turning to face the source of the noise. It sounded as though someone was stumbling about in the darkness. He brought his torch up and in a whisper spoke the words that brought it flaring to life. He backed up a pace when he saw the mage blinking away the brightness of the torch and takign in the scene in front of himself.

The mage was staring at Marietta for some reason he seemed completely unconcerned about Bariaus. Then he saw it too. The faint greyness climbing over Marietta's skin. Without thinking Bariaus grabbed the mage and dragged him closer demanding for him to undo the magic he had cast on her. The mage protested and nervously exclaimed that he had done nothing and this was more likely the same danger he had warned them of earlier in the day. Finally distraught Bariaus dropped to his knees and began trying to soothe and comfort Marietta as the greyness covered her completely. Bariaus lowered his head fealing helpless and unable to protect her. Completely overcome with guilt and remorse he bearly even noticed the grey tinge of his own flesh, the cold seeping into his bones, and cold darkness that quickly followed.

[Timaoh]

Once Jael re-posts his background information i will write up an appropriate tie-in and put it here. Until then i am going to get things rolling with what is going on with the rest of the party.

Mordun Frostbeard
As your eyes try to make sense of all the darkness that swims about your head you have the feeling that you are in fact beneath the earth. Although you are dissoriented and cannot reliably determine the depth of how far underground you are. You begin to feel the stiffness fading from your body. Your vission begins to blur and gradually painfully your vission returns causing lancing pain to sear through your head. It is almost enough to render you unconcious Fort Save - (1d20+7)[17](24).

As you regain control of your body and struggle to bring life back into attrophied muscles. The stiff and unresponsive clumsiness befins to fade replaced instead by flickers of pain and convulsions wrack your body intermittently. As you lie on your back gasping for breath recovering from the pain you notice that there are several figures nearby. They seem to be covered with the same grey stone that covered you. They are as still as statues and as you begin to move about the chamber that you are in you notice to your dismay that there are row after row of such statues. They stretch as far as you can see in the dim light, fading off into the darkness beyond your vission.

Closer inspection to the statues closest to where you lay reveals them to be in all fashion of dramatic poses. The one immediately next to you appears to be...

(go ahead and describe yourselves if you want. Those of you that are there should be posed similar to how i left you in my tie-in. Bariaus clutching the girl, Lialei on all fours, etc.)

[Greyen]

(OOC - Are the rest of us still stony? I'll assume we are.)
Fethen

Off to your left you can see one of the statues looks like a young man caught in mid yawn. His right arm is extended out in front of him, he is looking at his hand in shock as the left hand is balled up infront of his mouth stifling the yawn. He is dressed in what looks like working or traveling clothes. A thick belt laden with pouches and knives and a heavy looking back pack. He is a healthy young man, of medium build. Whoever carved these statues had great skill.

[DonBiscuit]

Habadur


On the ground is a statue of a man, asleep. His clothes are wrinkled, as one might expect for someone sleeping in full dress, and fairly archaic. Otherwise disheveled and unkempt, it appears he has not had a comfortable sleep. Though frozen in stone, his face belies discomfort and a night of bad dreams.

It's hard to judge his height and weight with him on the floor, but the man appears roughly average. Normal height, normal weight; two arms, two legs. Peeking out from under his clothes is a well crafted holy symbol of some god, denoting him as a holy man. He is obviously a man used to fighting, he has some fairly obvious scars on his visible skin, and large sword strapped to his back.

[Josh the Aspie]

Lialei Heartblossom

One of the nearby statues is of a beautiful elven women, who seems to have fallen forward onto all fours. One of her lithe hands rests on a small mound of stone which is somehow expertly rendered into the lichen like flower of silvia that often grows on sandy lake and river sides. Her hair rests across her back and falls from her head in thin, heavy strands. As it hangs past two pointed ears, it frames a face with prominent features that look as at home on a statue as they might a woman. The expression is incredibly subtle, a look of peace and serenity on the face of the woman with closed eyes, expertly rednering the difference between trance and sleep in a way only an Elven artist, intimately familiar with the condition, could hope to render. And yet, for some reason, across the face of the elf is a thin scarf, holding tight to her face, hiding it's lower features.

The hood of her cloak seems to be lined with some kind of fur, though more easy to sculpt due to it's being matted by some kind of liquid. The cloak of the elf maiden trails across the wider than normal pedestal, and lays all bunched together, as if weighted by something, causing it to drag. From her body hangs an incredibly smooth rendering of cloth, polished in a way no granite could ever be polished. Leaf like in design, it again speaks of the elven crafted clothing that such a woman would undoubtedly wear, yet there is bulk added to her form by it that does not fully mirror the lithe nature shown in her face and hands, that cannot be fully explained by clothing. As well, the clothing does not match the curve of the back that would be evident there, instead it seems to drape more over a strait back... yet with the other wet clothing there, and her lithe nature, one would think it would cleave to a cleft in her back along her spine... and yet it does not.

Across this clothing, and from her apparently ample chest hangs a sash on which rest several small hooks. Any artisan able to keep such stone hooks from breaking must be an expert, and yet how could one become such an expert at rendering the face without giving heed to what the body would look like under such clothes?

Further down past her leaf like tunic are a matching pair of trousers which extend most of the way down the leg, but in her position... ah, here is where it makes sense. Expertly rendered armor peeks it's way out from under her trousers, near her boots.

On her back, in addition to her cloak are a bow case and quiver, as well as a haversack. On her belt are a pouch and sheathed dagger.

[Rudiger]

Rudiger

Walking hesitantly from statue to statue, Mordun gazes into the eyes of each figure, wondering if they are simply stone carvings or "some bloody unnatural's trick." Judging by his most recent experience and his current location, he figured the latter.

Keeping an an eye and an ear out for movement, Mordun approaches the nearest statue, a young man with traveler's clothes and a large pack.

Blast, there's some witchcraft in these stones, I wonder if I've escaped from some torment this poor soul has not...

While speaking Mordun runs his hands over the outstretched arm of the figure, feeling for any irregularities or strange properties.

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If possible, rolling a Spot and Listen check on the general environment and a Search check on Fethen's form. If I can only have one, I'll take the Search check.
Spot: (1d20+4)[14]
Listen: (1d20+8)[26]
Search: (1d20+5)[20]

[Azerian Kelimon]

Lieing on the ground, a statue draws attention. It shows a young man and an adolescent girl in the middle of what seems to be a hug. While the girl has a look of fear in her face, the man is shifting between an expression of anger and joy, a look of confusion in his eyes. He seems to be some kind of warrior knave, a sword at his left, a chain shirt worn over his outfit, and a few sacks on his belt and back, which are covered by a heavy woolen cloak. It seems as though they share a connection, and that some mishap has occurred, for the girl seems to have fainted, her long hair falling limply behind her back, and the man clutching her as if to stop her from falling.

[Timaoh]

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You have time for all those checks. Also seeing as there are several hundred statues around you i shall asume that you are gazing into the eyes of the ones closest to you.

The stonework of the statues standing in front of you is masterful, even the irregularities of life and subtle flaws of humanity are conveyed precisely. There is no sign of natural flaw in the stonework or any variation in colouring of the stone except where it might be expected to contrast skin, hair, and clothing. You almost expect a breeze to ruffle their hair and clothing so still and lifelike they appear. Even in all the dwarven lands there has never been such splendid masonry as what lays before you. The hands that carved it must be masterful in their precision and dexterity to lovingly carve such supple creations. If it were natural.

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SPOT: As you gaze about the room you notice that there are row upon row of statues in a dizzying array of poses and from all the races you have seen, even some you have not. The statues nearest you seem pristine and unaged although there are others within the room that have been affected by time or other unfortunate circumstances. Missing limbs and even shattered remains of some statues liter the floor of the enormous cavern.

LISTEN: Although unnoticable at first in the silence of the chamber over the sound of your own rapid breathing. Soon you become accustomed to your own sounds and the rhythm of your heart and are able to notice other similar sounds nearby. Faint rhythms that are almost undetectable.

SEARCH: As you run your hand over the statue of Fethen you notice it is not quite cool as you had expected of a statue. Upon closer inspection you can also feel the faint traces of a lifebeat pulsing from beneath the stone. However there is still something wrong and unnatural feeling about this place, even if you cannot discern what that might be.

Standing alone and uncertain in the darkness you feel your hand growing cold where you touched the statue. Then you notice with fascination as the statue's arm regains some of it's lost colour. The grey slowly fading from where it was touched, as you remove your hand the colour slowly fades leaving stone in it's place once again. At the same time your own hand turns pale and grey leaving a terrible pain in it's place.
Negative Damage - (1d8+1)[5](6) (sucessful willsave halves damage)

As the statue returns to its grey colourless state you feel a slight tingle at your neck followed by an itching sensation you had not felt until now.

[Greyen]

Fethen

As Rudiger touches that statue, the face of the statue slowly animates. A slight color flushes across his and disjointed words escape breathlessly from his lips What... is. As you move your hand away the color fades.

[Rudiger]

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Roll for Will Save:
(1d20+3)[21]

Mordun stares in horror as the statue speaks. These figures are truly men!

Wracking his brain for any knowledge of how to reverse such wizardry, Mordun regards his hand. Now grey like the statue beside him, the pain at the base of his skull warns him not to be so foolish around magic yet again.

The more he considers his plight, the more a dark anger rises up inside him.

I must find a way to rescue these souls, I know the trickeries of magic all too well. Whatever terrible force drew them here did not intend for my escape, so I must use that to my advantage. It seems my lifeforce itself could bring them back, though would I survive? I must explore further.

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Rolling a Knowledge: Arcana and Spellcraft check regarding the statues, any reversal, and the effects of Mordun's contact.
Knowledge: Arcana- (1d20+6)[16]
Spellcraft- (1d20+5)[21]

[Timaoh]

As he studies his hand Mordun realises that the affect of his contact with the stone was not permanent. Although painful he may be able to counter whatever is holding these people prisoner. How much of himself is he willing to sacrifice of himself to save those he doesn't even know is another matter.

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You can surmise this with the related checks you made. Also take 3 Damage

[Rudiger]

Realizing grimly what must be done, Mordun surveys the figures closest to him. A fallen elf, a sleeping man, a couple embracing, and an adventurer, all frozen in torment. Farther beyond them Mordun sees the petrified shapes of other, less familiar beasts, still in their poses of anger, confusion, and sleep.

Turning around and dropping his pack to the floor, Mordun digs inside for a moment before coming out with four vials, each containing liquids brewed to fight off sickess and injury. Opening them all, he sets three at his feet and clutches the fourth in his right hand. Kneeling to make sure he is still within arm's reach of the other potions, he takes a deep breath and clamps his left hand around the outstretched arm of the adventurer who had previously showed a glimpse of life.

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Mordun is attempting to fully revive Greyen's character. When he feels he has slipped to half-health he will drink the potion he is holding, and will continue to drink the remaining potions whenever he again feels he is in danger. If he has drunk all of the potions and doesn't think he will survive the process he will release his grip on the statue and rethink his options.

[Timaoh]

As he takes hold of the living-statue Mordun experiences pain as he has only experienced at the hands of unnaturals. It sears him with an intensity the belies it's bone chilling effect. He can feel his own life force flow out of his hand and into the statue where he has placed it.

As he feels his life flow into the statue he can also feel a warm sensation begining to flood through himself eminating from his neck. As though a piece of warm metal was being pressed against his flesh. Althought it is only uncomfortable at first it steadily gains intensity the longer he rests his hand upon the statue.

After a minute at most the statue has regained all colouration and seems able to sustain itself mordun colapses in exhaustion.

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If the damage was too much for you then you may be unconscious before you could have drank the first potion. It is not a gradual effect but something that you notice once you break the bond between yourself and the statue. (so in other words the damage happens at once instead of 1d6 every round.)

[Timaoh]

the roll messed up so here it is.
Energy Drain Damage - (6d6+6)[30] (DC 20 Will save Halves)

[Greyen]

OOC - Rolls only work in the first post - not edits

Fethen

The young man's color comes back his words come more easily as life floods into him. ...going on here? He staggers a lttle as full life and realization dawn upon him. He looks around the darkness (is there any light?) What is going on...here?

-if there is no light Fethen first pulls out his everburning torch-

Seeing the dwarf in pain he quickly grasps his belt and touches the dwarf on the shoulder. Golden light flows from the belt through Fethen's arm into the dwarf.

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1 charge from healing belt (2d8)[7]

I think I have you to thank for saving me from being a stone for the rest of time. That was a magnificent variation of a transmutation effect, but not really something I treally want to experience. As he rambles on Fethen turns around and for the first time sees the other statues Oh, my. For the love of all that is magical. What is going on here?

[Rudiger]

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Will Save: (1d20+3)[17]

"Bah." Mordun muttered simply as he pulled himself to his feet. Love of all that is magical... It's magic that got you into this, boy. He began re-corking his potions and placing them back in his pack, then turned to face his new companion.

If you're wondering where you are, you're asking the wrong guy. Last I knew I was climbing some mountains, hunting down an unnatural I had heard stories about. Perhaps we've fallen into one of his traps, it wouldn't be the first time...

Regardless, you're probably wondering how we were freed. Well, I simply awoke here and, after some unplanned experimentation, found that physical contact pulled you back into reality. *cough* At no small expense to my own health...

[Greyen]

Fethen

A myriad of emotions play across the young man's face as the dwarf explains where and why they are here.
Seeing the dwarf's health problems he offers his hand while holding onto his wide brown leather belt that has 3 moonstones set into it. Do you need some healing? I can help you a little here.
-If the dwarf accepts-

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Healing belt - 1 more charge (2d8)[7] healed

You have my undying gratitude. I am Fethen Talvorson, Conjuror of the third circle, graduate of the Univerity Arcana at Wizard's Point. Fethen stands tall, obviously proud of his (meaningless) title. He looks around at the other staues and sees the statue of Bariaus and rushes over to it. So you are here too. He reaches out to touch the statue to see if there is anything he can figure out about it.

[Timaoh]

Fethen's Damage - (1d8+1)[6] (Will halves)

As Fethen reaches out and gingerly touches the statue of Bariaus trying to figure out the extent of magics affecting him. To his suprise even the slightest touch sends shards or pain lancing through his arm. How could the dwarf have managed to hold onto him for any length at all?

There is no noticeable change in the statue form of Bariaus at his touch.

Perhaps the collar he wears has something to do with lessening the effect of the stone?

(Dun dun dun!)

[Greyen]

Fethen

Fethen recoils from the statue with a yelp. He turns sucking on his fingers Mrmrmmmrph... Pulling his fingers out of his mouth he then says sheepishly where is my head? Talking with a mouth full of fingers, the magics here must have confuddled me a bit. The words seem to tumble from his mouth in a torrent.

he sighs deeply and the continues at a more measured pace It seems that the collar you wear is what makes you able to break the magics. I will try my own magics to counter it but I do not know if it will do any good. I do not know how you had the fortitude to hold onto me for so long as it must have taken to wake me.

Fethen looks around at the statues, thinking. Chin in hand and the other scratching his head he Hrmmm.... he selects one with a visible holy symbol that he recognizes as one to a good god or beneficial neutral god. He then walks over and to it and speaking in a harsh toungue makes a breaking motion toward it.

[Timaoh]

...fizzle...

The spell seems insufficient to disrupt the magic already in place.

[Greyen]

Fethen

Well, that just gave me a shiver. Best not try that again. One more thing to try my friend dwarf. Fethen reaches down and once again touches his belt attempting to channel the healing powers of his belt into the statue.

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Last charge for the day. (2d8)[10]

[Timaoh]

As the spell is chanelled into Fethen's hand he places it to the statue. The magic of the spell is repulsed by the statue. The magical aura surrounding Fethen's hand makes a slight popping noise and vanishes suddenly.

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The charge from the belt is returned and the spell does not manifest.

[Rudiger]

Mordun

While Fethen attempts to duplicate Mordun's success, the dwarf watches with simmering discontent.

You'd be well advised to cease that hocus-pocus of yours. You seem... harmless enough, but you're playing with a powerful thing not meant for our hands to distend or our words to corrupt. Mordun's hands grasp the collar clenched tightly around his neck. If it's the collar that sets these people free, then I'm the only one to do it, so step back boy!

The last few words come out as a shout as Mordun grasps the statue Fethen was focusing on.

[Greyen]

Fethen

Fethen looks at the dwarf confused at first then jumps out of the way as he reaches for the statue.

[Timaoh]

As Mordun erupts in anger and Fethen shrinks back caught off guard by the display and his own lack of success. The echoes of his outburst slowly fade from the enormous cavern they must surely be in.

As Mordun's hand comes into contact with the statue the familiar yet still unimaginable pain lances through him yet again. Damageroo - (6d10+6)[28] (Will dc 20. save for half) The pain albeit brief this time seemed more severe than the last he experienced. (There seems to be a direct corelation between the hardiness of the person-turned-statue and the life required to fully rejuvinate them.)

With the contact of hand to stone the collar seems to remain cool this time around suggesting less of a link between the statue and itself. His head throbbing with the painful experience he has just put himself through Mordun is staggered by the impact. (dc 20 Fort Save or go unconcious after next strenuous action.) Mordun who had seemed healthy and hale before his most recent encounter now seems haggard and as threadbare as a traveller's clothes after 3 months on the road.

(Wis check by either of you or Heal check to ascertain just how many times someone might survive such an encounter.)

[Greyen]

Fethen

Fethen watches in a mixture of shock and awe as the dwarf wracks his body for another's life. Speachless he touches his belt and channels the golden energy into the dwarf again.

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Last charge (2d8)[6]

Heal check (1d20+1)[15]

[Timaoh]

As Mordun once again sacrifices his own body enduring pain for those he doesn't know the statue-form of begins to move. Returning to life Habadur shudders as the dreams fail to fade from his subconcious immediately. He can remember the girls face all too clearly. It's as though she has imprinted herself onto his mind.

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Fethen would be able to surmise from his heal check that expending so much life without allowing his body to recuperate is suicidal at best. Even with the support of magical aid the requirements and strain placed on the dwarven body would be fatal if continued further without natural rest.