Post by K Man on May 25, 2005 9:15:00 GMT -5
Londo - The woman does not offer any resistance, just merely laying prone while you and the Half-Orc tower over her. The party rages on around you and few cast a half-glance in your direction...and none care for what's going on. It appears that whatever one is doing at Arturick's, is best kept in the dark...
{Are you headed down with Graak? If so, apply next portion to you as well.}
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Graak - Leaving the woman in place and slipping down the tunnel, you find the rings of metal are cold, each one nearly pulling a layer of skin free with each step. Still, you move down and come to a landing, roughly thirty or forty feet below the planks of the brothel above. It is dark, dank and impossibly cold. Your breath begins to puffs out ivory columns, a sign that if left here, you would probably freeze to death.
Just ahead of you is a door, left slightly ajar - and it from behind this that you spot the candlelight. Moving closer and peering behind it, you see the underground area broadens out into a large laboratory complete with work tables, equipment and tomes. You do see, slightly to the left of the door, a section of the room that appears to have been recently afflicted with fire.
Some movement catches your eye.
You see the man from above, the one cursing under his breath, rummaging through some rather wicked looking tools on a nearby table. They are silver, gleaming and nothing less than surgical in nature. He whistles lightly to himself as he does it, pulling each tool and running his fingers over it gently - admiring it like a druid would a flower.
Then you see more movement.
Your eyes drift to his feet where, staggering like a drunkard would, a small grey skinned creature hands the man a sharp pick or sorts. The figure barely reaches his knees and looks much like a body dragged from the depths of the ocean after the crabs have had their way with it...
It turns and you can tell it's an infant...an undead infant.
It's clearly the size of a newborn child but it walks with the gait and akwardness of the undead. It's skin is devoid of color and it's eyes are glass orbs, unmoving and uncaring. It moves around the end of the workbench and you lose sight of it, only to see a few more of them walking around the lab.
There must be over half a dozen just in here...
There are four exits from this lab and the man, once done compiling the tools on his cart, wheels the contraption down one of the hallways whistling to himself....
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Drop'Gar - You become aware of a whistling as it approaches from the direction of the lab. You hear the squeak of cart wheels and the click of booted heels on cold stone floor. Your heart sinks as you come to realize it's Arturick.
He has returned, pushing a cart laden with all manner of wicked-looking tools...
"I'm through trying to play fair...they took Satara. I'm going to let you know how much she meant to me...."
He fumbles with his ring of keys and slowly inserts one into the lock, resuming the whistling...
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{Are you headed down with Graak? If so, apply next portion to you as well.}
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Graak - Leaving the woman in place and slipping down the tunnel, you find the rings of metal are cold, each one nearly pulling a layer of skin free with each step. Still, you move down and come to a landing, roughly thirty or forty feet below the planks of the brothel above. It is dark, dank and impossibly cold. Your breath begins to puffs out ivory columns, a sign that if left here, you would probably freeze to death.
Just ahead of you is a door, left slightly ajar - and it from behind this that you spot the candlelight. Moving closer and peering behind it, you see the underground area broadens out into a large laboratory complete with work tables, equipment and tomes. You do see, slightly to the left of the door, a section of the room that appears to have been recently afflicted with fire.
Some movement catches your eye.
You see the man from above, the one cursing under his breath, rummaging through some rather wicked looking tools on a nearby table. They are silver, gleaming and nothing less than surgical in nature. He whistles lightly to himself as he does it, pulling each tool and running his fingers over it gently - admiring it like a druid would a flower.
Then you see more movement.
Your eyes drift to his feet where, staggering like a drunkard would, a small grey skinned creature hands the man a sharp pick or sorts. The figure barely reaches his knees and looks much like a body dragged from the depths of the ocean after the crabs have had their way with it...
It turns and you can tell it's an infant...an undead infant.
It's clearly the size of a newborn child but it walks with the gait and akwardness of the undead. It's skin is devoid of color and it's eyes are glass orbs, unmoving and uncaring. It moves around the end of the workbench and you lose sight of it, only to see a few more of them walking around the lab.
There must be over half a dozen just in here...
There are four exits from this lab and the man, once done compiling the tools on his cart, wheels the contraption down one of the hallways whistling to himself....
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drop'Gar - You become aware of a whistling as it approaches from the direction of the lab. You hear the squeak of cart wheels and the click of booted heels on cold stone floor. Your heart sinks as you come to realize it's Arturick.
He has returned, pushing a cart laden with all manner of wicked-looking tools...
"I'm through trying to play fair...they took Satara. I'm going to let you know how much she meant to me...."
He fumbles with his ring of keys and slowly inserts one into the lock, resuming the whistling...
__________________________________________________________________________________________
