Post by K Man on Nov 23, 2004 13:17:11 GMT -5
Krysta, Girud and Galdren - Laucimust remains stoic, his face expressionless and cold. You wonder if this Elf has any love in his heart...for anyone or anything. His emotionless eyes study both Galdren and Krysta for a moment and then he speaks, still calm and calculating.
(Look who earned himself a face!)
"I doubt you understand Galdren. You are so quick to claim equal status in regards to desire, yet even faster to deny the length to which you will go. Not obtaining these shards - allowing them to fall into the hands less ambitious than our queen, or even worse, those that cannot defend against 'The Master' - is far worse than a few lives lost that none shall lament."
"And letting the shards slip away is sure to doom the plane, and all who dwell in it to miserable death by 'The Master' or his minions." His eyes move to Krysta, remaining calm and quiet. "Saving ourselves? I see you were nearly the first to join that crusade...so are you claiming to be better than us? The most undeniable urge and uncontrollable urge is self-preservation Krysta."
"And now you proclaim that I will live alone in my years? What about you? Are you going to march headfirst and offer your life to 'The Master' so that you may be with you loved ones in the afterlife? I doubt it...you are as guilty as I am - of nothing more sinful than survival."
"Some will survive this, others will not. By nature, the weak shall perish first and the strong will survive and prosper."
"You want my secrets Human? I will survive..."
Laucimust, with an emphasis placed on you race that you don't think you've heard before, delivers his final statement with impossibly colder deliverance.
Thankfully, each of you retreats to a corner of the cliff face and watches, eyes glued to Cannon's Foot for any indication of the fate of her inhabitants. This is how it is for some time before Krysta re-addresses Laucimust. He speaks calmly as though nothing has happened.
"No. The elemental can only be summoned for a short enough time...but it is enough time to bury the shard so deep and far that none shall reach it without months of excavation."
"When the battle is done, we shall simply return to the empty city and I shall summon another elemental to bring it to the surface again. Should the SlaughterFog still occupy the city, I shall summon an elemental to carry it outside the city where an altered soldier can grasp it...much like you were just carried."
"As Irinys learned when he returned from Boon's Freehold, the shard cannot be teleported or moved by magic, we will need to find another way to move them."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I could use some rest and study..."
Laucimust turns and makes himself comfortable near the back of the cliff ledge, sitting cross-legged and removing a tome from his robes. He flips through the pages non-chalantly, ignorant of the battle in the distance.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Callian - Moving through the earth, you rip across the land and withdraw your blade, appearing just to the side of a very surprised and very large Troll. [Attack Roll = 23] The blade is true, driving right into the side of the Troll, burning its flesh. [Damage Roll = 26] The green-skinned monstrosity howls into the fogged air, clutching its sides in pain.
Troll 1 is wounded. (Down 26)
The remaining Trolls ignore their comrade in battle with the small annoyance, apparently they have much larger agendas. They charge the small distance, barely pausing at the Wind Wall and reach for the top of the ramparts to Cannon's Foot.
The Troll on you however, brings his maul about, swinging it in a downward arc. [Attack Roll = 21] The maul slaps the ground next to you, leaving a perfectly square outline of its head in the soft grass.
You sigh, knowing it's not over yet...
[Initiative; Callian, The Enlarged Trolls.]
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~E~~
-------------C--
*************
--E----EE------
^____________^
E = Enlarged Troll
C - Callian the Cajone
- = Normal ground
* = Wind Wall
^ or _ = Cannon's Foot Wall
~ = Fog
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hero, Caelith, Garor, Newt and Angelus - Delomme's face shifts, from hopelessness to wicked ingenuity. He looks approvingly to Caelith, his eyes filled with ideas...finally relieved of the monstrous reality pounding at his gates.
"You may have a sound idea Caelith. I doubt we can do much to stop the horde at the gates with a few fireworks ...but you can certainly try. I'll need the majority of the barrels here to do enough damage to destroy 'Fortress-Breaker' - at least eighty-percent of the barrels here - but the rest you can use to your liking."
"Putting everyone in the empty shells may just allow them to survive the blast. They were designed, after all, to withstand that and more to deliver their charge on target. It will be a rough ride and a few may certainly die, but it's infinetly better than genocide."
"Let's get to it...start getting everyone in here."
Delomme suddenly strikes you as a phoenix, a man reborn out of the ashes of his soon to be leveled town. He places a hand on Newt and Hero's shoulders, indicating he would like their help getting the women and children into the shells first.
It appears there is work to do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Romar and Yuri - [Romar and Yuri both, great role-playing. I love how you just laid it out Yuri!]
King Grandil stands from the table, brushing aside the dishes and remains of a meal well enjoyed. He places a hand on both of your shoulders, escorting you to your rooms for the night.
"Of course laddy, I understand ye be needing to follow yer own path. In the morning, seek out Marg and get to the vaults. Tell him I said ye can take what ye like, and consider it another parting gift of Bazarkrak."
Grandil leaves you both before a set of rooms, large enough to provide comfortable accomodations for the evening. After a few parting words, you rest for the night, comfortably nestled in the heart of a Dwarven mountain.
Yuri - [Knowledge Undead on Lurst] There is something, stirring within you at the mention of Lurst...as though the name alone is enough to compel your undead body to strike and lash out at life. You don't know much, but you know he is still feared in the subconscious of all unliving, as though he is their power...their light and their will. He existed over a millenia ago, which would accurately place the Dwarves' beliefs with his death at the hand of Karn....but somehow, you feel that tale was a lie.
The morning comes and you both arise to a bustling Dwarven kingdom. The feast of last night, the civil-uprising...all seems to be swept under the rug of pro-ductivity. Marg is at your door in the morning, awaiting to take you to the 'vault'. He leads you through twists and turns, eventually stopping before a massive iron door set in the stone wall, flanked by two giants made of iron. With a command word you doubt you could repeat, the massive golems pull the door aside and reveal a cavern of gold and treasure so deep...your eyes cannot focus on the back of it.
[It's your guys' turn to ransack a treasury. PM me with what you want...]
You spend a few hours, nearly the whole day rummaging through the golden goods with Marg looking on and making the occasional joke or idle chat. Once you have secured everything, Marg looks to you both.
"Well, if I guess their urge to get back to work correctly, the forgesmiths should have ye mounts done by just about now..."
Smiling, you follow Marg back into the winding stone tunnels and depths of the Dwarven castle. Corridor and after corridor, hallway after hallway - you almost wonder if Marg is stalling you before he rounds a corner and stops before a set of double-doors. He pushes them open and the sweltering heat of a forge blasts you in the face.
To your left, two stages have been erected and are highlighted with a series of bright torches. Atop each low stage is a cloth draped object, about the size of a horge...perhaps a little larger. By one rest an altar covered with divine objects, the other's stage is blank. The blankets remain over the horses as the Dwarves come and take Yuri's crystal.
Marg kneels down next to one horse while the Dwarves with the crystal peel back an edge of the blanket and lift what looks like a metal panel in the side of the construct.
For the next hour, you both watch in awe as the Dwarves work their magic. The crystal is placed inside the blanketed construct and Marg is surrounded by chanting priests and holy men. The chants continue around pounding hammers and tinkering tools as both crystal and spirit are pulled together, fused with their new host bodies. Romar sees a ghostly spirit, the form of his beloved Húna form near the construct, then seemingly melt into the blanket before he can blink.
Then, when the chanting stops and the crystal is affixed, Marg stands and without much presentation of words, rips the blankets of each horse.
You mind searches for the words...but only one comes forth...beautiful.
(Look who earned himself a face!)"I doubt you understand Galdren. You are so quick to claim equal status in regards to desire, yet even faster to deny the length to which you will go. Not obtaining these shards - allowing them to fall into the hands less ambitious than our queen, or even worse, those that cannot defend against 'The Master' - is far worse than a few lives lost that none shall lament."
"And letting the shards slip away is sure to doom the plane, and all who dwell in it to miserable death by 'The Master' or his minions." His eyes move to Krysta, remaining calm and quiet. "Saving ourselves? I see you were nearly the first to join that crusade...so are you claiming to be better than us? The most undeniable urge and uncontrollable urge is self-preservation Krysta."
"And now you proclaim that I will live alone in my years? What about you? Are you going to march headfirst and offer your life to 'The Master' so that you may be with you loved ones in the afterlife? I doubt it...you are as guilty as I am - of nothing more sinful than survival."
"Some will survive this, others will not. By nature, the weak shall perish first and the strong will survive and prosper."
"You want my secrets Human? I will survive..."
Laucimust, with an emphasis placed on you race that you don't think you've heard before, delivers his final statement with impossibly colder deliverance.
Thankfully, each of you retreats to a corner of the cliff face and watches, eyes glued to Cannon's Foot for any indication of the fate of her inhabitants. This is how it is for some time before Krysta re-addresses Laucimust. He speaks calmly as though nothing has happened.
"No. The elemental can only be summoned for a short enough time...but it is enough time to bury the shard so deep and far that none shall reach it without months of excavation."
"When the battle is done, we shall simply return to the empty city and I shall summon another elemental to bring it to the surface again. Should the SlaughterFog still occupy the city, I shall summon an elemental to carry it outside the city where an altered soldier can grasp it...much like you were just carried."
"As Irinys learned when he returned from Boon's Freehold, the shard cannot be teleported or moved by magic, we will need to find another way to move them."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I could use some rest and study..."
Laucimust turns and makes himself comfortable near the back of the cliff ledge, sitting cross-legged and removing a tome from his robes. He flips through the pages non-chalantly, ignorant of the battle in the distance.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Callian - Moving through the earth, you rip across the land and withdraw your blade, appearing just to the side of a very surprised and very large Troll. [Attack Roll = 23] The blade is true, driving right into the side of the Troll, burning its flesh. [Damage Roll = 26] The green-skinned monstrosity howls into the fogged air, clutching its sides in pain.
Troll 1 is wounded. (Down 26)
The remaining Trolls ignore their comrade in battle with the small annoyance, apparently they have much larger agendas. They charge the small distance, barely pausing at the Wind Wall and reach for the top of the ramparts to Cannon's Foot.
The Troll on you however, brings his maul about, swinging it in a downward arc. [Attack Roll = 21] The maul slaps the ground next to you, leaving a perfectly square outline of its head in the soft grass.
You sigh, knowing it's not over yet...
[Initiative; Callian, The Enlarged Trolls.]
~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~E~~
-------------C--
*************
--E----EE------
^____________^
E = Enlarged Troll
C - Callian the Cajone
- = Normal ground
* = Wind Wall
^ or _ = Cannon's Foot Wall
~ = Fog
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hero, Caelith, Garor, Newt and Angelus - Delomme's face shifts, from hopelessness to wicked ingenuity. He looks approvingly to Caelith, his eyes filled with ideas...finally relieved of the monstrous reality pounding at his gates.
"You may have a sound idea Caelith. I doubt we can do much to stop the horde at the gates with a few fireworks ...but you can certainly try. I'll need the majority of the barrels here to do enough damage to destroy 'Fortress-Breaker' - at least eighty-percent of the barrels here - but the rest you can use to your liking."
"Putting everyone in the empty shells may just allow them to survive the blast. They were designed, after all, to withstand that and more to deliver their charge on target. It will be a rough ride and a few may certainly die, but it's infinetly better than genocide."
"Let's get to it...start getting everyone in here."
Delomme suddenly strikes you as a phoenix, a man reborn out of the ashes of his soon to be leveled town. He places a hand on Newt and Hero's shoulders, indicating he would like their help getting the women and children into the shells first.
It appears there is work to do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Romar and Yuri - [Romar and Yuri both, great role-playing. I love how you just laid it out Yuri!]
King Grandil stands from the table, brushing aside the dishes and remains of a meal well enjoyed. He places a hand on both of your shoulders, escorting you to your rooms for the night.
"Of course laddy, I understand ye be needing to follow yer own path. In the morning, seek out Marg and get to the vaults. Tell him I said ye can take what ye like, and consider it another parting gift of Bazarkrak."
Grandil leaves you both before a set of rooms, large enough to provide comfortable accomodations for the evening. After a few parting words, you rest for the night, comfortably nestled in the heart of a Dwarven mountain.
Yuri - [Knowledge Undead on Lurst] There is something, stirring within you at the mention of Lurst...as though the name alone is enough to compel your undead body to strike and lash out at life. You don't know much, but you know he is still feared in the subconscious of all unliving, as though he is their power...their light and their will. He existed over a millenia ago, which would accurately place the Dwarves' beliefs with his death at the hand of Karn....but somehow, you feel that tale was a lie.
The morning comes and you both arise to a bustling Dwarven kingdom. The feast of last night, the civil-uprising...all seems to be swept under the rug of pro-ductivity. Marg is at your door in the morning, awaiting to take you to the 'vault'. He leads you through twists and turns, eventually stopping before a massive iron door set in the stone wall, flanked by two giants made of iron. With a command word you doubt you could repeat, the massive golems pull the door aside and reveal a cavern of gold and treasure so deep...your eyes cannot focus on the back of it.
[It's your guys' turn to ransack a treasury. PM me with what you want...]
You spend a few hours, nearly the whole day rummaging through the golden goods with Marg looking on and making the occasional joke or idle chat. Once you have secured everything, Marg looks to you both.
"Well, if I guess their urge to get back to work correctly, the forgesmiths should have ye mounts done by just about now..."
Smiling, you follow Marg back into the winding stone tunnels and depths of the Dwarven castle. Corridor and after corridor, hallway after hallway - you almost wonder if Marg is stalling you before he rounds a corner and stops before a set of double-doors. He pushes them open and the sweltering heat of a forge blasts you in the face.
To your left, two stages have been erected and are highlighted with a series of bright torches. Atop each low stage is a cloth draped object, about the size of a horge...perhaps a little larger. By one rest an altar covered with divine objects, the other's stage is blank. The blankets remain over the horses as the Dwarves come and take Yuri's crystal.
Marg kneels down next to one horse while the Dwarves with the crystal peel back an edge of the blanket and lift what looks like a metal panel in the side of the construct.
For the next hour, you both watch in awe as the Dwarves work their magic. The crystal is placed inside the blanketed construct and Marg is surrounded by chanting priests and holy men. The chants continue around pounding hammers and tinkering tools as both crystal and spirit are pulled together, fused with their new host bodies. Romar sees a ghostly spirit, the form of his beloved Húna form near the construct, then seemingly melt into the blanket before he can blink.
Then, when the chanting stops and the crystal is affixed, Marg stands and without much presentation of words, rips the blankets of each horse.
You mind searches for the words...but only one comes forth...beautiful.
)
I want a big metal horse, those are cool. Not that I can ride, but it would be cool to have.}
Sturmguard's your other king.))
Wish I could do more. Oh yeah, and Newt is tossed his cloak +2 and anything else that wasn't given to him))