The Priestess Bride

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Thu Jan 18, 2024 9:08 am

Alwin wrote: ↑Wed Jan 17, 2024 1:02 pm Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [4] = 4
JIC: 1d20: [18] = 18 and 1d100: [7] = 7

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Wed Jan 17, 2024 1:21 pm (Trask shakes his head and sighs. "Because you're still alive. If I had already done all the things you said I did, why would I stop from just murdering another person. As for your other question, I think you already know the answer to that." Trask says looking at the others who are clearly trying to figure out what happened. "Appearances are often deceiving, and I certainly have had the problem in the past." Trask says almost sagely.

"So young man, do you have any tracking skills?" Trask asks, his single good eye looking square at Alwin.

Alwin eyes the old human with contempt, your so lucky I was flying... I am not used to my bow while flying. He snorts loudly, "Can I track? Yes Hue Mon... I can track. Likely better than you."

Granas wrote: ↑Wed Jan 17, 2024 1:52 pm Granas adds, the bird chirping once. "I do think we can work together. And as too searching any further... 'when good persons do not act to help in a world beset of evil, they may as well be aiding evil'." Granas quotes, pausing then wincing as he looks back at Runidia's steed still holding the slain Ambrosius. "Besides, they crossed a couple lines I'm not set to let lie even if others are."

Alwin's head drops, his eyes tighten but he does not look at Trask. They do deserve our attention for what they did to Ivy. Alwin looks up and says, "You are right Granas, we have unfinished business to be about with them. I am letting my feeling get in the way of proper logic. It must be all the time I am spending around... " Alwin lets the comment trail off considering, Granas is not like the rest... not like this Trask... I bet this Humperdinck is a human disguised as an elf. He steels his tongue from finishing the statement and instead says, "I'll start looking for tracks as well."

Skills
Track Humanoids 55% vs 1d100: [33] = 33 - Look for the tracks of the elves and goblins.
Detect Concealment & Traps 55% vs 1d100: [39] = 39 - Look for signs of someone covering up tracks or trying to conceal which way they left.

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Thu Jan 18, 2024 12:37 pm

Ivy wrote: ↑Fri Jan 12, 2024 1:52 pm Perception: 1d100: [22] = 22 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [1] = 1 ; 1d100: [42] = 42

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Wed Jan 17, 2024 1:21 pm Trask says looking at the others who are clearly trying to figure out what happened. "Appearances are often deceiving, and I certainly have had the problem in the past." Trask says almost sagely.

"So young man, do you have any tracking skills?" Trask asks, his single good eye looking square at Alwin.

Alwin wrote: ↑Thu Jan 18, 2024 9:08 am Alwin eyes the old human with contempt, your so lucky I was flying... I am not used to my bow while flying. He snorts loudly, "Can I track? Yes Hue Mon... I can track. Likely better than you."

Alwin, with all that fury, wants nothing more than to punish someone for what has happened. I cannot blame him, but we need calm resolve now more than ever.

Ivy, ever the bridge between warring souls, always tries to be the gentle brook between clashing rocks, and this time is no different. Can I quell the rising tide?

"Alwin," she said, her voice kindly, "everyone has heard of the skills your folk have in the wilds. I would join you if you'll let me. Show me how the wind speaks, how the leaves tell their secrets. With your guidance, my eyes might learn to see too."

She smiles, hoping a little flattery, and an opportunity to demonstrate his strengths will do his heart good. He's angry he was bested, but I hope showing me what he sees will soothe his wounded pride.

As they step away to examine the grounds around the temple, Ivy glances back at Granas, her gaze a silent promise. "I will look after him," her eyes seem to say, "He'll be alright."

Whilst Alwin shows how the language of the wilds can be read, Ivy, genuinely captivated, tries to absorb the lesson. She hopes amongst the signs of animals passing and priest tracks that they find signs of these elves Trask spoke of. During this time, Ivy reflects on what has happened this day and the days leading up to it. One thing becomes clear to her.

We need to be certain Trask is what he seems to be.

If and when Alwin and her have a private moment together, Ivy speaks to Alwin in a low voice. If no opportunity presents itself, she will discuss the text below telepathically instead.

"At some point tonight we will break for a meal. I want you to make peace with Trask but watch him carefully," the gnome gives Alwin a grim look. "I will salt his meal and offer everyone mead or some brew of Rigel's. We need to be certain we are not dealing with another changeling, and he must not suspect we are testing him. Agreed?"

"He may be telling the truth, in which case we have won a very skilled ally. One clearly we all could learn from." She shrugs. "If he is lying, and in league with our new enemies, he is a source of information. Either way, we will learn the truth soon enough. I can see this tracking you know requires patience to learn the truth."

She pauses to ensure Alwin sees the connection. "It is no different with folk and their words."

She point to the clouds, "I suppose a tracker like you cannot be distracted by the patterns in the clouds. You need to focus on what's important here on the ground. Barbs, insults and the like are like clouds. They seem large and compel our attentions, but in truth block your view. But they are nothing more than distractions, they block your view, keeping your eyes away from the tracks you hope to find. You and I, we need to keep our eyes on the ground, and find the truth of this."

Ivy pats Alwin's elbow reassuringly. "Whatever words anger you, let them pass through you. They are small and of no consequence. You are seeking something more important, and cannot be distracted."

Once Alwin is finished, they return to the group the report any discoveries.

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Thu Jan 18, 2024 1:28 pm

Alwin wrote: ↑Wed Jan 17, 2024 1:02 pm Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [4] = 4
JIC: 1d20: [18] = 18 and 1d100: [7] = 7

Ivy wrote: ↑Thu Jan 18, 2024 12:37 pm "Alwin," she said, her voice kindly, "everyone has heard of the skills your folk have in the wilds. I would join you if you'll let me. Show me how the wind speaks, how the leaves tell their secrets. With your guidance, my eyes might learn to see too."

Alwin nods agreeingly to the gnome adding, "Of course!" The small priestess seems to always bring peace to Alwin's mind. He turns to look at Trask once more, thinking to himself before leaving, it will be good to get some fresh air.

Alwin points out the things he sees and his thoughts on them as they search the surrounding for tracks.

Ivy wrote: ↑Thu Jan 18, 2024 12:37 pm "At some point tonight we will break for a meal. I want you to make peace with Trask but watch him carefully," the gnome gives Alwin a grim look. "I will salt his meal and offer everyone mead or some brew of Rigel's. We need to be certain we are not dealing with another changeling, and he must not suspect we are testing him. Agreed..."

When Ivy stops to talk Alwin listens intently and nods along at her ideas. When she is finished talking, he asks a single question, "Will this human be so quick to accept peace. I will do my best, but should I be so overtly accepting of him? Would that create suspicion?" Alwin considers his own question for a moment or two before adding, "I will do my best. It is in our best interest to find out for sure, as you said."

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Thu Jan 18, 2024 1:52 pm

Ivy wrote: ↑Fri Jan 12, 2024 1:52 pm Perception: 1d100: [22] = 22 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [1] = 1 ; 1d100: [42] = 42

Alwin wrote: ↑Thu Jan 18, 2024 1:28 pm When Ivy stops to talk Alwin listens intently and nods along at her ideas. When she is finished talking, he asks a single question, "Will this human be so quick to accept peace. I will do my best, but should I be so overtly accepting of him? Would that create suspicion?" Alwin considers his own question for a moment or two before adding, "I will do my best. It is in our best interest to find out for sure, as you said."

"It is true that forgiveness is never easy," she muses out loud whilst thinking. "But we already know some things about him. He did not press his attack when you clashed did he? It may be in his nature to show mercy."

She stop a moment. "Or he is so certain of his skills he has no fear of you at all." Ivy considers that possibility a few moments before coming to the same conclusion. "Either way, both are reasons to seek peace isn't it?"

"As for any suspicions for your sudden change of heart," Ivy grins wryly. "You just took a stroll with a priest who has been doing this for a century. You can blame me for your sudden shift in attitude."

"We should be hopeful we have found a powerful ally, but be understandably cautious and cunning in checking what we can. He's no saint, so even if innocent he will likely throw the odd barb your way. Just remember the clouds, and let it pass through you. That will help you in life more times than you think."

Mürrischer Reisender · Thu Jan 18, 2024 8:12 pm

[Rolls carried]

Alwin wrote: ↑Wed Jan 17, 2024 1:02 pmAlwin walks to Ivy and takes a knee in front of her. A sadness in his eyes as he shows her the side of his face, "He hit me with my own bow." He looks back at this, Trask, lips pursed, and nose wrinkled, adding, "he cheated somehow... I'm not sure how... but he did." Alwin then turns back to Ivy with his eyes wide like a puppy and almost sniffles.

"It definitely couldn't be you getting ahead of yourself again." He pipes up with a smug look and the elf trying something similar to himself not long ago that almost didn't work. "And I don't look like a rough mutt."

But if we're looking for goblins... His mind wanders with his nose in hopes of sniffing out goblins, even if it sounds like they can be found inside. His head turns from temple to around the area in case someone is trying to hide just out of sight inside or elsewhere. But those little green bastards could be anywhere...

Recognise scent of others 1d100: [43] = 43 /28%
Detect Ambush 1d100: [28] = 28 /50%

If he catches a scent that doesn't lead to the temple that likely holds dead goblins, Mürrischer heads off in that direction in tracking with a huff, following the trail by nose and eye, bow ever in hand.

Track Humanoids 1d100: [93] = 93 /55%
Recognise scent of others 1d100: [91] = 91 /28%

Post by **Locknar** » Sat Jan 20, 2024 1:57 pm

Seeking clues as the day fades.
The Temple of Astra
Date: 24 September, 345
Weather: Clear skies
Time: Sunset (5:10pm)

The party rush towards Alwin's position to the northeast side of the temple! Ivy's fears that Vizzini has claimed another victim are not realised; Alwin was bested by ... a human!

Mürrischer nocks an arrow in anticipation of violence but Granas, not feeling threatened by the mercenary, introduces himself. Tensions ease and introductions are made. Alwin experiences a veritable kaleidoscope of emotions, and none of them pretty. He vigorously challenges Trask's story, but the others remain convinced.

The conversation turns to the situation at hand, and Trask relates what he knows of the temple's assailants. Ivy tends to the elf's facial wound, and her healing touch eases his pain and restores his spirits somewhat (+11 S.D.C. - personal S.D.C. restored in full). She also offers to aid Trask, but he refuses. Between them all, they count 5 enemies on top of the cobbler goblin lackeys; Prince Humperdinck, Count Rugen, Vizzini, Fezzik, and an unnamed swordsman. Trask reveals that the villains were seeking a journal of some sort.

Jorg asks of the fate of the other temple guards and Trask confirms he saw none in the temple. The large fighter's hopes rise until Ivy offers a grisly theory; they were intercepted on the road to the temple. She demonstrates a keen wit in theorising these attackers split into two groups. One aimed at taking Luna who was on the road, the other to find the journal in the temple. Is the gnome correct? Only the gods know. Ivy recalls Luna's strange ability to read mystical unreadable words, and offers the party a ray of hope. Luna, the gnome believes, is alive. Further, she is certain the villains need Luna's ability to read the unreadable.

Jorg decides enough is enough. Runidia is seemingly of the same mind, and they move as one. The heavy oak doors of the temple shudder under Jorg's boot, falling open with a bone-jarring crash. The temple guards barrel inside, eyes narrowed for combat, half hoping to hear goblin snarls and the glint of goblin blades.

Instead, silence slam into the pair like a physical blow.

The others follow close behind, and all witness the scene.

The main temple hall lies before them, Jorg knows well that the place is usually abuzz with activity. Now, it is a macabre tableau of death. His priests, the friends he’d shared meals and laughter with, lay lined up in stark rows on the oak floor. It is still as Trask arranged them, there was little else the man could do. Jorg’s gut clenches. He recognises each face. There is Sirius, the old leader, his robe still stained with the ale they’d shared just last night. Lyra the elf lady, and Estelle the gnome... their sweet songs music could soothe a rabid badger. Zara, the dwarf, Runidia's friend... with her booming laugh and bottomless tankard. Nova and Altair, the human twins, always bickering but fiercely loyal.

Each face, pale and lifeless, a testament to the brutal efficiency of the attack. Their throats, cruelly slashed, gaped like silent screams. All eyes scan the hall, but it is as Trask had described. There were no enemies to be had, no clash of steel, no echo of battle. Only the crushing silence.

Rigel, usually mirthful and unflappable, crumples to his knees, tears carving tracks through the road dust on his face. His shoulders sag as if bearing the unbearable weight of their absence. He weeps.

Some time passes before words are spoken.

Trask asks where he is, and is told the city of Adrianna is nearby. In his mind he cannot place where that might be. They might as well have said he was in Lilliput.

"When we arrived at Adrianna," Ivy looks at Trask and clarifies, "a nearby city. We were teleported in by my god Od. We saved months of travel from Llorn and I always thought it was for a greater purpose that we could not see."

Od. That is a name Trask knows a little, the chief-god of the Northern Pantheon. The Binder of Dragons. Husband to Epim, and father of Locknar and Hoknar. Powerful, but in a tricky way rather than a typical warrior-god. Still, no one has mentioned Utu... one of the Temple's secrets survives for now. If there is some link between Locknar and Utu, Trask cannot fathom it.

Then the conversation turns to practical tasks. Ivy hopes out loud that the villains could be tracked, and three among them volunteer; Trask, Mürrischer and Alwin. A fourth, Skye, is volunteered by his master and the bird utters no protest. Our heroes spend a little time about the hall looking about and clearly see signs of battle; blood, a dead goblin, and a broken table. As the trackers head outside, Ivy asks to join Alwin, who accepts. Soon the trackers pass out the exit.

Still inside, Granas gently asks Rigel. "Rigel, is there anything of Luna's you have in your possession, or in the temple? I'd like to try another read on it to see if I can scry her present location. It's a long shot, but worth a try."

Investigations in the Temple
Rigel rouses himself and tries to focus. After a few deep breaths he nods. "Come with me."

The sole surviving priest leads Granas, Jorg and Runidia up the stairs. On the second floor of the building he opens a large door and reveals a library. High shelves line the walls, and in the center of the room is a writing desk. Many books have been knocked off their shelves, and the room is in a state of disarray.

"Luna spent most of her time here translating books," Rigel explains, and he points to a quill and inkpot at the desk. "That quill is only used by her. She made it herself. Will that do?"

As Granas works the young priest gazes despondently at the mess about him. He begins to retrieve books from the floor and returns them to the shelves. "There are bigger libraries, but this one has some unusual volumes. Want to know about the dwarven clans that once lived under this mountain? No.. I suppose not. What about the Four Horses of the Apocalypse? No no no. What was it that Ivy asked me? I'm.. not myself right now." Rigel pauses, another book in his hand. Then with a great shuddering breath he tries to calm and master himself.

He speaks slowly. "A journal that is normally unreadable? They do come about. From what I understand the Eyes of Thoth spell is common enough to warrant some deeper precautions. Some writers just rely on being cryptic, or in riddles and rhymes. Some write many chapters of gibberish with the truth hidden at a random place within, and then there's real hard magic."

Then, seeming in a daze, Rigel changes the subject. "I suppose I'm now the ranking priest here. Who'd have thought that?" He sighs rather bitterly. "Maybe it's time to go home? Oh but I hate the smell of fish. The worst. Or.."

Granas does not hear what comes next. He squints at the writing quill. It is a beautiful pheasant's feather. His brow furrows in intense concentration and he wills himself to see visions of Luna from afar. Soon he is .

".. Ivy. She said Od sent you all here. Od is Locknar's chieftain, so if anyone is in charge here it would be her." He looks up rather excited a moment. "Didn't she say that during her fight of all the Northern Gods it was Locknar who answered her? Yes.. I.. need to talk with her. Where is she?"

At some point afterwards Granas gasps, his heart pounding against his ribs. The vision has ended.

Investigations outside the Temple

Skye catches no scent of Luna in the mountain air, though the bird circles about enjoying the warm rising air currents from the valley below.

Mürrischer snarls, his nose pressed against the earth, with a growing frustration twisting his lupine features. The scent of goblin blood, acrid and metallic, so clear inside the temple now dances just beyond his grasp out here in the afternoon light. All around the temple he can sense goblin vermin had been here, but where they went afterward remains a mystery that seems intent on mocking him.

Tolliver Trask, studies the entrance of the temple. The only signs he could find. There, not far from the main doors, his calloused fingers trace around the faint boot prints in the damp soil. But it is but three prints, offering no clues as to where they went. Sadly, it appears to be a task beyond his skill.

Alwin leads Ivy around the temple in slowly widening circles. Ivy might be surprised to learn it is a , not at all like the legends of rangers in the wilds. They have some solitude during their search, where Ivy reveals her hope that Trask is to be trusted, but outlines a plan to test that the man is no changeling spy. To this Alwin readily agrees.

And then, a whisper of hope catches Alwin's eye. The elf sees a single crimson blade of grass, stained by blood. He follows what to Ivy seems an invisible trail. True, all the gnome can see is the monotony of grass and leaves, but she follows eagerly. Gnome follows elf in a tense silence. They soon pass a small stable with a few horses within who are contentedly chewing on hay.

A full fifty yards north, a tiny ember of burnt earth draws in Alwin's gaze. Kneeling, he plucks two scorched black tailfeathers, their tips curled with heat. A bird was on fire here.

Alwin circles around awhile, then continues northward towards the cliffs. Ten paces from the cliff's edge, Alwin freezes. Before him, the rocky ground bears the imprint of many feet. Two pairs, large and booted, stood apart, forming a circle. Inside, the earth was churned by tiny prints. Alwin traces the outline of the circle, trying to confirm the pairs of booted feet - yes two. Human, or perhaps elven.

Hope blooms, sharp and bright, in their hearts.

But the tracks end abruptly. The cliffs are a sheer drop into a valley below, yet Alwin cannot confirm footprints marring the jagged rock face, nor does he find scuffed edges that betray a recent climber. No, not the cliffs. It is if the villains simply dissolved into thin air at the circle. The afternoon light is starting to fail, and the shadows lengthen. His elven senses sense a discordant tune, something is not right. It is like an unsettling prickle running down Alwin's spine. In the pit of his stomach he feels he is missing something. Something important.

Perhaps in the morning things will become clearer? Then, without warning, a speaks in Alwin's mind.

WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS?

Butcher's Bill (Incomplete)
Players please provide an update in chat so that we can maintain this list centrally going forward. Around two hours have passed, and those of you not actively tracking have had a chance for a little meditation if you desire.

Alwin -6 P.P.E.
Granas additional -10 I.S.P. (Object Read)
Ivy -2 H.P., -4 S.D.C., -20 P.P.E., -14 I.S.P. | Armor: Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC)

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Mon Jan 22, 2024 11:20 am

Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [59] = 59
JIC: 1d20: [5] = 5 and 1d100: [24] = 24

Locknar wrote: ↑Sat Jan 20, 2024 1:57 pm Perhaps in the morning things will become clearer? Then, without warning, a
The crisp mountain air whips past Alwin's pointed ears as he is on the verge of abandoning the faint tracks. Then, it hits him, a voice slithering into his thoughts like a serpent in the undergrowth.

So you can sense me. How interesting.

The voice is female and laced with dark amusement. It is a voice Alwin knows, though he can't immediately place it.

You're on the wrong side Alwin. The voice purrs. Your talents are wasted. I can see that.

You all slipped away before we got a chance to properly know one another. The voice is takes on an indignant edge. Almost petulant. But it didn't change anything. You revealed this place to us anyway, and we've taken what we need. I'm just here to clean up the loose ends. Not every priest is dead. Yet. But also to facilitate. Yes, I always said I'm a facilitator.

One time offer. Come with me and you'll be the right hand of elven royalty. We are going to end the current age and set great things in motion. Things you always dreamed of. I see it, in your heart of hearts. You were born for this.

The sun dips below the horizon soon. The voice continues, dripping with honeyed menace. When it does I will end all these loose ends. You can join the fun. Or.... the alternative.

An image flashes into Alwin's mind, vivid and brutal. The faces of Ivy, Granas and Mürrischer are contorted in agony. The image of Ivy is particularly savage. A peal of laughter titters in his mind.

Tell you what. I'll give you my magical Foebane dagger. A gift to you to seal our partnership. Just throw that gnome trash off the cliff. Right now. I would give a lot to see the look on her face as you do it.

The clock is ticking and your destiny awaits. Choose. Tick tock. Tick tock. Another laugh, and then silence. The presence in his mind seems to be gone.
speaks in Alwin's mind.

Alwin is immediately thrown by the voice in his head, It is so... familiar, he thinks to himself. The lack of a corporeal body gives him immediate pause and he finds himself instinctually positioning himself between Ivy and the edge of the cliff. He doesn't offer any input of what he is hearing but it is obvious that he is looking for something and there is concern on his face.

He listens as the voice starts and when he hears the words Facilitator he repeats the out load, "You're a facilitator?"

At the realization the voice is Sil he starts backing Ivy away from the edge with his arms stretched. As the voice continues, he audibly snorts at the offer of the dagger and replies outload, "I want nothing of yours!

He turns and grabs the little gnome by the shoulders, staring deep in her eyes, "She wants me to toss you from the cliff... Can you believe that? The dirty beast... filthy changeling." Alwin pauses holding her shoulders tightly before he pushes the gnome further back and away from him, "Run! She wants you dead! I hear her... I think she is here. I... I... Can't tell." He considers fro a moment, I would... but... not you. Not Ivy. Why?! Alwin steps towards the gnome and pushes her back again, "Run! Go to the others. Tell them the bandits left from here. Tell them Silhouette IS involved." Run little one, before I change my mind.

Alwin turns back to the cliff and yells, "I should have left you in Llorn... a moment of weakness... Too many moments lately it seems." The assassin pulls his bow from his shoulder and prepares, "You won't have Ivy, not me, not Granas, not Muri... We escaped your evil once; this time I will end it if given the chance. Show yourself changeling!"

Alwin watches around him still and prepared, I'll even take that knife... from your cold dead hand if you wield it.

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Mon Jan 22, 2024 5:07 pm

Perception: 1d100: [17] = 17 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [20] = 20 ; 1d100: [66] = 66

Conditions: H.P.: 16/18, S.D.C.: 19/23, P.P.E.: 27/47 | I.S.P.: 13/27 | Spell Strength: 12 | Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC : Fire Resistant Half Damage)

Alwin wrote: ↑Mon Jan 22, 2024 11:20 am The lack of a corporeal body gives him immediate pause and he finds himself instinctually positioning himself between Ivy and the edge of the cliff. He doesn't offer any input of what he is hearing but it is obvious that he is looking for something and there is concern on his face.

He listens as the voice starts and when he hears the words Facilitator he repeats the out load, "You're a facilitator?"

At the realization the voice is Sil he starts backing Ivy away from the edge with his arms stretched. As the voice continues, he audibly snorts at the offer of the dagger and replies outload, "I want nothing of yours!

He turns and grabs the little gnome by the shoulders, staring deep in her eyes, "She wants me to toss you from the cliff... Can you believe that? The dirty beast... filthy changeling." Alwin pauses holding her shoulders tightly before he pushes the gnome further back and away from him, "Run! She wants you dead! I hear her... I think she is here. I... I... Can't tell." ..... Alwin steps towards the gnome and pushes her back again, "Run! Go to the others. Tell them the bandits left from here. Tell them Silhouette IS involved." Run little one, before I change my mind.

Alwin turns back to the cliff and yells, "I should have left you in Llorn... a moment of weakness... Too many moments lately it seems." The assassin pulls his bow from his shoulder and prepares, "You won't have Ivy, not me, not Granas, not Muri... We escaped your evil once; this time I will end it if given the chance. Show yourself changeling!"

Silhouette IS involved. Alwin's words echo in Ivy's mind. Her mind races and she watches Alwin with concern.

Why? The crates? No they wanted the journal and Luna. Why not earlier? Because they did not know where to look... We..

"Silhouette was following us here," Ivy concludes out loud. "They wanted this journal and Luna, the only thing that makes sense is they did not know where to look."

Somehow they found out about a delivery going to this temple, they just did not know where. So the next best thing is to follow the armed guard .. it was the next best thing.

The gnome involuntarily takes a step back as Alwin shouts, seemingly intent on facing Silhouette alone.

That's what she wants!

Ivy steps beside Alwin, she speaks very quickly in elven. Silhouette might be reading minds, or not. She might not understand the tongue, but the gnome decides anything to potentially disrupt the changeling was worth trying.

"No that is what they want. You alone, so you can be picked off like they tried to do me. They divide the group and pick off them off one by one. Or you throw me off the cliff, again, divide and conquer. We move together to the rest of the group. NOW."

She pulls at his sleeve, and telepathically to any friends outside. Likely Mürrischer at least. If she sees Skye overhead, the bird also receives her urgent telepathic call. The light and delicate voice of the telepathy suggests it is the little gnomish priestess, even though she does not go right out and say it.

Silhouette is here. Get inside the temple and warn the others and guard the entrances. We must fight as one. Talk more once we're all inside. Please hurry. She can only read one mind at a time, I will keep her thoughts on us before we join you. GO!

To Alwin she pulls him in the direction of the temple as fast as he is willing. All the while she explains her suspicions. "Why doesn't she just attack? She's unsure she can win. She must be alone, or very near it. She needs us split up, that is exactly how they took this temple. She's powerful but incredibly uncertain. We lost her on the river with magic she did not expect. They tried to kill me when I was alone, but I'm still here. She's afraid."

A surge of anger flashes through her as she realizes Silhouette is part of a conspiracy that killed her dear Ambrosius. The trained priest forces the thought aside, for her concern for Alwin being caught alone is the stronger emotion. But, some of that anger seeps into what she says next in an effort to draw Silhouette out.

She turns to the empty space about them. "Aren't you Silhouette? Afraid. You should be. You're not half as clever as you think you are."

You never knew when to shut up. Why would you now? Come on, where are you?

Back to Alwin, she offers a laugh to further rile the hidden changeling. Speaking in the human tongue and loudly enough to be overheard. "All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and follow us to find this place. The easiest of tasks, but she couldn't even do that. Now she is alone here, facing an unknown force. Why isn't she with the victors enjoying the spoils? Why is she alone? Punishment for her own stupidities?"

Telepathically she adds to Alwin. She needs to speak is she casts a spell, listen for it. Let's get inside and prepare a merry welcome. Come. Please. We are stronger together.

How did they know about the shipment here? Impossible to know. Myfflin might be one of them? No. They might have been watching Myfflin. They might have had a changeling in every shipment Myfflin sent, eventually they would find the right place..

Contingency: If Ivy gets any hint of the area where Silhouette might be. She calls to Sky, the god that saved her.

Pray for intervention: 1d100: [5] = 5 -- Cloud of Harmony, aiming for area discerned in a 35 foot radius.

OOC Comments

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Mon Jan 22, 2024 5:52 pm

Perception: 1d100: [21] = 21 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [18] = 18 , 1d100: [41] = 41
Conditions: Sixth Sense , Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks).

Save vs Psionics (12+): 1d20+5: [6]+5 = 11
Save vs Magic (varies): 1d20+5: [17]+5 = 22

Trask looks at the small amount of tracks he could find. I am more than a little rusty at this. Been a long while since I had to track anyone. Trask thinks as the others move about doing their thing. Trask briefly glances towards Alwin and Ivy, as Alwin does his own tracking. Heh, kid is good at that I guess. Trask thinks as he turns his view to the broken front door of the temple. Youth, could have just opened the door, all the kicking it in was unnecessary, now we'll likely have to fix the door before we leave. Trask thinks, but given the others are inside, he can't see what they're up to at the moment. Trask sighs, and groans a bit from the wounds he still has. Stubborn old fool. You should have let the priest heal you. Trask moves to the temple steps, leans his Lucerne Hammer against the wall before siting down.

Trask lets his shield leans against his leg, while calloused hands slowly pack his pipe with some of the gnomish blend he acquired while in Llorn, a practiced series of motions, long honed. A minute or two later, Trask is quietly puffing away watching the folk move around. So what is the plan Old Man..? Wait for the kids to finish up and follow whatever tracks may be around, or suggest heading back to the nearby town and begin asking around about the Prince and his cronies. Both are viable options. Trask muses as his attention turns to his oldest friend. How did... Utu probably. I don't know why I even should ask. I could go for a drink, too bad I'm on the job. Trask thinks, glancing down to his satchel with a half full bottle of Gnomish twelve year-old.

If Trask hears yelling from the direction of Ivy and Alwin, he looks in the direction of the duo, pipe gripped between his teeth. What's that all about? Trask thinks as he pick his shield and hammer back up. Trask doesn't move from his spot near the front door, standing at a loose ready for something to happen.

If Trask doesn't hear yelling from the direction of Ivy and Alwin, he sits quietly, eyeing the surroundings and musing over what has happened thus far.

Mürrischer Reisender · Mon Jan 22, 2024 8:12 pm

Perception: 1d100: [6] = 6 /39%
JIC: 1d20: [20] = 20 / 1d100: [7] = 7

Locknar wrote: ↑Sat Jan 20, 2024 1:57 pmMürrischer snarls, his nose pressed against the earth, with a growing frustration twisting his lupine features. The scent of goblin blood, acrid and metallic, so clear inside the temple now dances just beyond his grasp out here in the afternoon light. All around the temple he can sense goblin vermin had been here, but where they went afterward remains a mystery that seems intent on mocking him.

Damn goblins everywhere here. He looks around knowing more could be lurking anywhere. I swear, if I see a living one we're clearing a den.

Locknar wrote: ↑Sat Jan 20, 2024 1:57 pmAlwin circles around awhile, then continues northward towards the cliffs. Ten paces from the cliff's edge, Alwin freezes. Before him, the rocky ground bears the imprint of many feet. Two pairs, large and booted, stood apart, forming a circle. Inside, the earth was churned by tiny prints. Alwin traces the outline of the circle, trying to confirm the pairs of booted feet - yes two. Human, or perhaps elven.

When their searches do eventually cross and he catches the sight or scent of blood he'll look but have little faith in it being more than one thing. "Yeah. Goblins were here. We already know."

He turns to searching by nose and eye for something, anything, that wasn't a goblin. They were really beginning to get an his nerves at this point and he hasn't even encountered a living specimen yet. Was there someone lurking in the bushes? A trail they missed? Could Luna be held nearby and no one noticed yet? All questioned he hoped to get answered as he searched.

Track Blood scent 1d100: [26] = 26 /32%
Track Humanoids 1d100: [22] = 22 /55%
Detect Ambush 1d100: [68] = 68 /50%

Alwin wrote: ↑Mon Jan 22, 2024 11:20 amAlwin is immediately thrown by the voice in his head, It is so... familiar, he thinks to himself. The lack of a corporeal body gives him immediate pause and he finds himself instinctually positioning himself between Ivy and the edge of the cliff. He doesn't offer any input of what he is hearing but it is obvious that he is looking for something and there is concern on his face.

From wherever he is when Alwin suddenly repositions Mürrischer turns, ready with arrow fire for whomever had taken him by surprise this time.

Alwin wrote: ↑Mon Jan 22, 2024 11:20 amAlwin turns back to the cliff and yells, "I should have left you in Llorn... a moment of weakness... Too many moments lately it seems." The assassin pulls his bow from his shoulder and prepares, "You won't have Ivy, not me, not Granas, not Muri... We escaped your evil once; this time I will end it if given the chance. Show yourself changeling!"

"My memory says there's a river and weeks travel between where we left her and here. How are you so sure?" He asks, debating whether or not he should give the elf a 'sanity shot' from a arrow.

Jorg Ashblight · Post by **Jorg Ashblight** » Tue Jan 23, 2024 6:55 am

The solemn warrior is beset with grief and anger, his mind is moving fast as thoughts come and go, ~ No sign of battle, but slit throats, and the murders were during the daytime while everyone was going about doing their work, this was a betrayal, no signs of a fight, means it was trickery, the hand of an assassin or betrayer, someone we didn't expect, someone we are familiar with possibly, were they using magic to disguise themself, or make oneself invisible? Is it something else? This was senseless, just empty slaughter, the monks never harmed anyone, they didn't possess anything of importance or value, but their teachings and their generosity.~

Jorg puts his sword back in his scabbard and shield on his back hook, bends over and starts picking up bodies, not caring if he gets blood on himself or not. He starts building a funeral pyre, and carefully places his friends on it in a row. His mind drifting to each one that he holds as he thinks of his time with whomever he is holding at that time as he places them in position. He places Zara at the end, along with a couple of logs standing up, so Runidia can reach her to say her goodbyes if she wishes.

He then grabs a nail and hammer, and strikes it onto the anvil until the strikes heat the nail up to a fiery glow, and he places it in the kindling while blowing air to feed the small flame until it transforms into a roaring fire.

And then he watches, and grieves. He will stand next to Runidia. "It was a fine job, with good people, we will see that they get their justice so they can have peace in the here after. Who ever did this will pay, with blood and pain." he says through grimaced and grinding teeth.

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Tue Jan 23, 2024 9:10 am

Alwin wrote: ↑Mon Jan 22, 2024 11:20 am Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [59] = 59
JIC: 1d20: [5] = 5 and 1d100: [24] = 24

When Muri asks how Alwin can be sure he frowns, ”she is in my head! I hear her. I feel here. I am sure.”

Ivy wrote: ↑Mon Jan 22, 2024 5:07 pm "Silhouette was following us here," Ivy concludes out loud. "They wanted this journal and Luna, the only thing that makes sense is they did not know where to look."

The gnome involuntarily takes a step back as Alwin shouts, seemingly intent on facing Silhouette alone.

Ivy steps beside Alwin, she speaks very quickly in elven. Silhouette might be reading minds, or not. She might not understand the tongue, but the gnome decides anything to potentially disrupt the changeling was worth trying.

"No that is what they want. You alone, so you can be picked off like they tried to do me. They divide the group and pick off them off one by one. Or you throw me off the cliff, again, divide and conquer. We move together to the rest of the group. NOW."

To Alwin she pulls him in the direction of the temple as fast as he is willing. All the while she explains her suspicions. "Why doesn't she just attack? She's unsure she can win. She must be alone, or very near it. She needs us split up, that is exactly how they took this temple. She's powerful but incredibly uncertain. We lost her on the river with magic she did not expect. They tried to kill me when I was alone, but I'm still here. She's afraid."

She turns to the empty space about them. "Aren't you Silhouette? Afraid. You should be. You're not half as clever as you think you are."

Back to Alwin, she offers a laugh to further rile the hidden changeling. Speaking in the human tongue and loudly enough to be overheard. "All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and follow us to find this place. The easiest of tasks, but she couldn't even do that. Now she is alone here, facing an unknown force. Why isn't she with the victors enjoying the spoils? Why is she alone? Punishment for her own stupidities?"

Telepathically she adds to Alwin. She needs to speak is she casts a spell, listen for it. Let's get inside and prepare a merry welcome. Come. Please. We are stronger together.

The little gnome moves to Alwin's side and he looks down as she starts to speak. What is she doing? As Ivy's anger starts to boil and she begins to chide Sil Alwin realizes the gnome fully intends to stay and fight by his side if he doesn't leave. Brave and Kind... but... there is a temper in there. Alwin keeps his head on swivel waiting for the changeling to strike when Ivy asks aloud if Sil is scared. That's it! She must be. If she wasn't... She would have shown herself.

When Ivy is finished Alwin adds, "She thinks I am as stupid as she is. Ask me to throw Ivy from the cliff... she is indeed scared. She always has been. A most unintelligent creature as well... she gave identity up before we knew there was even a problem." Alwin lets out a boastful "Ha!"

He slides toward ivy to position himself between the edge of the cliff and her as he starts to back away. "To the temple it is then. She will not show herself." Letting an exasperated snort out Alwin finishes, "she is... a coward." Alwins turns ever so slightly moving with Ivy back toward the Temple but making sure to watch their backs and keep himself positioned between the cliff and Ivy. Alwins eyes harden and his instinctual nature to hide take over as he begins to cast on Ivy and himself a spell of invisibility. There is no need to let her see us! Once he is finished he casts once more... a spell to sense magic this time. Maybe I can route her out.

Granas · Post by **Granas** » Wed Jan 24, 2024 8:44 pm

Perception: 1d100: [56] = 56 /46%
JiC: 1d100: [79] = 79 / 1d20: [18] = 18

Conditions: Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | I.S.P.: 48/54 | PPE: 32/245 | Spell Strength: 15 | Familiar Empathetic/Telepathic Link 600ft | Armor of Ithan (3min | 180 SDC, AR 18 | Magic fire, lightning, cold 1/2 DMG) |

Skills
History: 1d100: [89] = 89 /57% [Does Granas recognize that branch-throne from any magical tomes he may have read]
Lore, Magic: 1d100: [79] = 79 /92% [Does Granas recognize that branch-throne from any magical tomes he may have read]

Post

Rigel wrote:"Come with me."

Granas nods and follows Rigel into the temple, stepping lightly within the hallowed, now ramshackle temple. Considering the chain of events, I wonder if it's connected to the cargo we delivered, or the person picking it up specifically. Were they pieces to a puzzle that when together prompted an attack... or unrelated entirely. Our priorities are skewed... it was an ambush, nothing to say they won't try again. Granas ponders the situation. "Blast." Granas mutters under his breathe, visibly frustrated. And we've not even had time to talk among each other, just guessing and going, all over. I'm not a fond of the dynamic. Granas resigns to himself, absently following Rigel as he considers things

Rigel wrote:"Luna spent most of her time here translating books," ... "That quill is only used by her. She made it herself. Will that do?"

Granas bows his head and extends his hand to take the quill. "Yes, that should work wonderfully, thank you." Granas says and then will attempt an Object Read; Present on the quill to try to discern to Present location and/or condition of the quill's owner. Luna being the sole user does place this item in her possession, let's see if I can get anything from it. Granas takes a deep breathe, channeling as much of his good will in making some sort of connection. Bastilla would've been able to locate Luna in her sleep... and she has faith in me. Granas resolves.

Rigel wrote:"There are bigger libraries, but this one has some unusual volumes. Want to know about the dwarven clans that once lived under this mountain? No.. I suppose not. What about the Four Horses of the Apocalypse? No no no. What was it that Ivy asked me? I'm.. not myself right now." A journal that is normally unreadable? They do come about. From what I understand the Eyes of Thoth spell is common enough to warrant some deeper precautions. Some writers just rely on being cryptic, or in riddles and rhymes. Some write many chapters of gibberish with the truth hidden at a random place within, and then there's real hard magic."

Granas opens his eyes and glances at Rigel. He's anxious, worried. He has a right to be. Granas pauses. "That spell is common enough among practioners , I'm versed in it myself. I've found tomes unreadable to the spell that needed an additional codex to fully translate, even with the spell. It's often not enough to own a book of power, translating it and understanding it opens a new world." Granas muses, briefly expressing his own constant pursuit of ancient texts, tomes and artifacts. Perhaps I can convince this crew to join me on my next expedition to ruins. They seem reliable, maybe Jorg and Runidia's services would be on the table too. Granas ponders briefly as Rigel continues, still holding the Quill, waiting for inspiration to strike.

Rigel wrote: "I suppose I'm now the ranking priest here. Who'd have thought that?""Maybe it's time to go home? Oh but I hate the smell of fish. The worst. Or.."

Granas is listening to Rigel as he stares at the quill, studying its design through a furrowed brow and continuing focus. Before Granas can move to answer the now-head priest, his eyes glaze over and the vision takes hold. Luna is alive but looks hurt. She is strong, defiant, I hope it doesn't end up being her folly. Who is the elf? A wizard, perhaps? Some lost king? The one who created the Golem, I wonder... that throne, have I seen that before? Granas ponders as his mind comes back as the vision fades, prompting Granas to gasp for a breathe of air and glancing around.

Rigel wrote:".. Ivy. She said Od sent you all here. Od is Locknar's chieftain, so if anyone is in charge here it would be her." He looks up rather excited a moment. "Didn't she say that during her fight of all the Northern Gods it was Locknar who answered her? Yes.. I.. need to talk with her. Where is she?"

"Luna is alive. Bound in a wooden chair, beset by a elf garbed in aristocratic purple cloths holding that unreadable journal. He has a throne; a large branch growing out of the ground, creating a throne of razor-like bark and timber." Granas abruptly states to Rigel, Jorg and Runidia. He blinks and shakes his head. "We have no one in charge, though I agree, we should regroup." Granas states and moves to head back to the first floor. While doing so, he attempts to connect with Skye. How's it going out there? He asks his friend.

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Fri Jan 26, 2024 3:30 am

Ivy wrote: ↑Mon Jan 22, 2024 5:07 pm Perception: 1d100: [17] = 17 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [20] = 20 ; 1d100: [66] = 66

Ivy walks with Alwin and Mürrischer not far from the mountain clifftop, making for the temple to the south. The fading sunlight making her think of Ambrosius, another victim of these villains. Silhouette is part of this. And she'd see me at the bottom of a cliff today.

Grief for Ambrosius lingers in her heart. It was still raw. Yet, beneath the grief, a fierce resolve crackles also. Her mind is bent on playing to Silhouette's pride to compel her to have the last word yet again.

Alwin wrote: ↑Tue Jan 23, 2024 9:10 am When Ivy is finished Alwin adds, "She thinks I am as stupid as she is. Ask me to throw Ivy from the cliff... she is indeed scared. She always has been. A most unintelligent creature as well... she gave identity up before we knew there was even a problem." Alwin lets out a boastful "Ha!"

A little more to push her.

A wry expression plays on Ivy's face. She remains alert for signs of Silhouette betraying her position, but adds fuel to Alwin's verbal fire. "Oh I agree. I've seen more intelligent creatures running around farmyards with their heads cut off."

She turns this way and that, watchful and listening intently. She whispers, "Come on, show yourself. You know you want to answer that."

Another push. Her ego has undone her once already. It will again.

"In fact, I've seen more intelligent creatures lying on their backs at the bottom of ponds."

Ivy wouldn't succumb to sorrow or anger. Inwardly she prays for strength. She was not a vengeful priestess, but a healer. But these deaths could not go unanswered. Nor could whatever evil they plotted be allowed to transpire. She had to use Silhouette's weaknesses against her.

Silhouette must be crushed. But we need answers from her. Help me find the truth in this. Help me capture her alive if I can.

Post by **Locknar** » Sun Jan 28, 2024 2:48 pm

The Dead, The Changeling, and things even worse.
The Temple of Astra
Date: 24 September, 345
Weather: Clear skies
Time: Sunset (5:12pm)

Temple of Astra - Level 2 and down to Level 1
In the library of the temple Granas reflects on his psychic vision and tells Rigel and Runidia the good news: she is alive. Then they discuss what they know of her captor.

Granas wrote: ↑Wed Jan 24, 2024 8:44 pm "Bound in a wooden chair, beset by a elf garbed in aristocratic purple cloths holding that unreadable journal. He has a throne; a large branch growing out of the ground, creating a throne of razor-like bark and timber."

"I didn't think we had any elf kings left," Rigel replies, his brow furrowed in thought. "The razor bark branch sounds exotic and uncommon. If we knew what type of tree it is we might know where they are."

Granas wrote: ↑Wed Jan 24, 2024 8:44 pmHe blinks and shakes his head. "We have no one in charge, though I agree, we should regroup." Granas states and moves to head back to the first floor.

Rigel follows Granas to the first floor.

Granas wrote: ↑Wed Jan 24, 2024 8:44 pmWhile doing so, he attempts to connect with Skye. How's it going out there? He asks his friend.

Skye sees Alwin, Ivy and Mürrischer near the stables. Then something most horrible! Focusing on the details, Granas is aware the what transpires outside, but not what is happening downstairs.

And so..

Temple of Astra - Ground Floor - Main Hall
No library time for Jorg. The fighter has slipped out with the intention of building funeral pyres. A noble thought. He knows there is abundant hay in the stables, and firewood for fire. It promises to be sorrowful work that would take some time for a lone man to do. Right now, all the time he has had is to bid his fallen friends in the main hall farewell.

And so we find Jorg alone in the ground floor of the temple. The air of the temple hangs heavy with the scent of blood and unspoken grief. Jorg kneels before the fallen Sirius, saying his goodbyes. Jorg rises, his gaze sweeping across the hall to the other dead priests. He decides it is time to build the pyres.

But then ... a sound. Ethereal, almost mocking – dances through the hall. A girl's laughter, like wind chimes shaken by an ill wind. Then, silence. An unnatural, suffocating silence that presses against Jorg's eardrums.

The silence feels… wrong. Jorg senses something is amiss, but only a scant moment has passed.

Then, a jolt. Sirius' eyes snap open, a flicker of icy blue in his dead eyes. Whatever moans that come from his moving jaws are choked by the weight of the unnatural silence. Then the other priests follow, their vacant eyes glowing, their limbs twitching. Then suddenly, they lurch into motion, right for Jorg!

A cruel girlish voice sounds in his mind. It is the only noise you can hear.

You seemed so lost without them. So I have returned them to you.

DM: Jorg, there are multiple dead rising about you in the hall. Your position is on the map provided. Please provide combat rolls and actions. Enjoy.

Temple of Astra - Northern Grounds, near the stables
Meanwhile, just north of the temple Alwin recognises the telepathic voice in his mind. A voice that made him an terrible offer most terrible indeed. In a rage, he throws the offer back into Silhouette's teeth. Wherever she might be.

"You won't have Ivy, not me, not Granas, not Muri... We escaped your evil once; this time I will end it if given the chance. Show yourself changeling!"

Alwin urges Ivy to flee the area, perhaps tempted to actually do the awful deed. Ivy refuses, and suggests they are being manipulated into being separated as Ivy was once before. She offers deeper thoughts as to what might be going on, and Mürrischer questions how this could be. Privately the wolfen wonders whether the elf needs a '' from an arrow.

As the trio move towards the temple, Ivy forms a cunning plan to lure Silhouette into revealing her position. She hurls a taunt at Silhouette, and Alwin joins in. Will the ruse succeed?

Ivy turns to the empty space about them. "Aren't you Silhouette? Afraid. You should be. You're not half as clever as you think you are."

"She thinks I am as stupid as she is. Ask me to throw Ivy from the cliff... she is indeed scared. She always has been. A most unintelligent creature as well... she gave identity up before we knew there was even a problem." Alwin lets out a boastful "Ha!"

The gnome unleashes another burn with, "Oh I agree. I've seen more intelligent creatures running around farmyards with their heads cut off." This is immediately followed by another uppercut to the ego, "In fact, I've seen more intelligent creatures lying on their backs at the bottom of ponds."

Alwin's eyes narrow, his hands trace along the hilt of his killing weapon. He casts two spells to assist in his endeavors. Sense Magic (-4 PPE) and Invisibility: Simple (-6 PPE) .

Then Ivy's gnomish ears, and Mürrischer furry ears towards the source of a sound – behind the wooden stable doors where the temple's steeds are kept. Could Silhouette, their shadowy nemesis, be close?

But as they ready their bows, magic and prayers, a burst of straw and splintering wood erupts from the stables. The doors shattered outwards, spraying debris, and instead of the dark changeling mage that they all expect, a monstrous figure gallops towards you!

It is a mule. Oh but not just any mule!

This beast is a twisted caricature of its kin, its once gentle eyes blazing with madness beyond measure. Its normally placid face contorted into a snarl that reveals teeth more molar than fang, but it is unsettling nonetheless.

Mürrischer, Ivy and Alwin gape, momentarily stunned.

But their surprise is short-lived. Recognition flares in their eyes. This isn't just any insane murder mule, it is Petal, Silhouette's own mount! Perhaps it is warped and weaponised by the changeling's dark magic?

With a snort that sends spittle flying, Petal rears, forelegs pawing the air. Her bray, once gentle, is now a horrific screech that claws at the edges of our heroes minds.

"HEE-HAW!"

Ivy praying to Sky for aid. The priestess feels a gust of wind at her cheek, and on it is a familiar voice. A melody, spun from forgotten years, thine ancestors did weave with laughter, tears. Mürrischer also the godly voice in the wind.

A tremor shakes the air about them, and the air crackles with unspoken power. Then, above the mule's snarling form, a cloud forms and descends. It pulses with an impossible luminescence, a swirl of rose and gold, that pulses like a long forgotten sunrise. From within the magical cloud, a melody spills forth, an echo from the time when gnomes had a great civilisation. Before elves and dwarves destroyed it. It isn't music in the earthly sense, not a mere collection of notes or chords. It is a feeling, a memory woven from love and whispered dreams. The song flows like liquid gold, even from outside the cloud it weaves through the darkness of Ivy's grief, granting a little relief to her sadness. Alwin and Mürrischer hear it too.
A pure harmony, the faint voice of long-forgotten gnomes can just be heard, beings lost to the ages.

But sadly the manic mule remained untouched. The melody, potent enough to enthrall angry souls and soothe savage beasts, does not pierce the shroud of magical madness that engulfs its mind. The beast snorts, rears its head defiantly, and Ivy's hopes are dashed. Then Alwin unleashes a burst of emerald magic, weaving a swirling cloud of sleep-inducing mist. (-6 PPE for Alwin) The murder mule passes through it unaffected, and it honks once again for your blood!

"HEE-HAW!"

DM: Mürrischer, Ivy and Alwin, you are being assailed by a manic mule of murder. Your position is on the map provided. Please provide combat rolls and actions. Enjoy.

Temple of Astra - Entrance

Trask savours the puffs from his pipe as the temple's cool shade keeps him comfortable. The sunset really is quite beautiful, and with the Temple entrance being on the west side, he has a prime view.

A stray sunbeam dances across the worn hilt of his hammer, momentarily pulling him from his reverie. A faint giggle, ethereal and out of place, drifted from within the temple hall. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Then his moment of tranquility is shattered with a cacophony of panicked shouts and the frantic braying of a mule from the stables. He rises, picking up his hammer and shield, and then a shadow steps from the temple's shadowed doorway.

Silhouette, shadow that weaves itself into flesh and steel, materialises, her form shimmering into solidity. Twin blades, a sword and dagger, gleam in her hands.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Trask." She laughs in a tone of contradictions only teenagers can truly manage; sweetly girlish yet also hateful.

"Ivy was right," she said, her eyes burn with an intensity. "I am a changeling. And I want you to know, everything you've ever heard about us. Every horrible story. Every reason we are hunted. Is it all true."

Silhouette hisses, her voice laced with venom. "Goodbye, Trask."

Before Tolliver can form a reply, Silhouette is a blur of motion, steel flashing with deadly intent.

DM: Tolliver Trask, you are being greeted by an old friend. Your position is on the map provided. Please provide combat rolls and actions. Enjoy.

WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS?

Butcher's Bill
Alwin: -38 P.P.E. 72/110 P.P.E. (Spells active: Sense Magic and Invisibility: Simple)
Granas: -48 I.S.P., -32 P.P.E.
Ivy: -2 H.P., -4 S.D.C., -20 P.P.E., -14 I.S.P. | Armor: Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC)
Jorg:
Mürrischer:
Runidia:
Tolliver: -28 S.D.C., -17 I.S.P.

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Sun Jan 28, 2024 3:21 pm

Perception: 1d100: [43] = 43 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [10] = 10 , 1d100: [22] = 22
Conditions: , Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks).

Silhouette wrote:"I'm surprised to see you here, Trask... Ivy was right, I am a changeling. And I want you to know, everything you've ever heard about us. Every horrible story. Every reason we are hunted. Is it all true... Goodbye, Trask."

To say Trask is surprised is a little of an overstatement. In the past, Trask had tried to befriend the sociopath that is Silhouette, but she threw it back in his face and acted a petulant child at every turn. To hear Silhouette say she is a Changeling, does spark a few inconsistencies that Trask noted in their previous interactions. Funny enough, Silhouette is by far not the first changeling Trask has dealt with in the past. Trask almost sighs when she comes at him with a classic pairing of weapons. So she finally decided to be truthful to her evil, and still not realize how stupid she is.

Trask drops his grip on his hammer and reaches for the sword rewarded to him by Clan Chief Runark Goldenbeard, for services rendered fifteen years prior. While the blade is not magical in any way, it is very much a work of superb craftsmanship. "You always were a twit." Trask says flatly as he begins to slash and parry with his sword and shield. Trask isn't flashy in his style, as a matter of fact one could go and say it lacks flair, and is purely utilitarian. Trask works to catch most of the incoming blows on the shield also gifted to him from Clan Chief Goldenbeard, trusting in the indestructibility enchantment on it's surface.

"So did you come up with this plan all on your own, or did someone have to spell it out for you." Trask says in a borderline mocking tone. "Guess you never found your dad." Trask twists the verbal jab a little further.

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Mon Jan 29, 2024 10:22 am

Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [40] = 40
JIC: 1d20: [20] = 20 and 1d100: [35] = 35

Conditions: Invisibility (simple), Sense Magic

When the maniacal mule makes it's way through the cloud of slumber Alwin scoffs, My magic is ineffectual lately. Looking at the mule he wonders silently if Sill sent it as an insult or if she truly is scared, No matter... the crazed beast dies either way.

Feeling no guilt for the beast and even considering, this might be its own choice, Alwin draws his bow and fires. A rage swells in the elf. Frustration from his inability to stay the elderly human and his inability to put this petty mule to sleep, fuel his intent to destroy this creature.

An Elf possessed; the arrows fly with a speed one would only see from an expert archer. 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 arrows heading toward their mark. Without a pause he calls out to the deranged ass, "I'll have you head this day!' On the last Alwin takes a breath, steadies his arm and focusses his aim as true as he can, then releasing the 6th. His focus remains on his singular task, killing this beast! He forgoes all thoughts of defense other than to parry any strike the mule might make if it gets close enough.

Mürrischer Reisender · Mon Jan 29, 2024 8:36 pm

Perception: 1d100: [11] = 11 /39%
JIC: 1d20: [4] = 4 / 1d100: [79] = 79

Even as Mürrischer contemplates shooting Alwin to see how he responds, he hears something he's not sure he is supposed to and any questions he may have on the subject are answered when a manic mule comes out of the stable in pursuit of violence. For a moment he has no response then arrow possibly designated for Alwin's mental state is turned upon the mule. Recognizing the mule and thus her owner gives him an anger he has yet to display around his comrades. "There went any chance you may have had."

He heaves a breath as he pulls his only bracelet off as he stows away his bow, speaking its word of activation, and suddenly has a claymore in both hands coming down in an arc to cleave the mule and leaves a second swing against the creature, teeth bared in a growl.

Initiative: 1d20+1: [15]+1 = 16

Action one: Shoot the mule with an arrow 1d20+3: [15]+3 = 18 3d6: [1, 3, 3] = 7
Action two: change from longbow to transformable claymore
Action three: dodge 1d20+2: [8]+2 = 10
Action four: claymore swing 1d20+2: [18]+2 = 20 4d6+7: [5, 2, 5, 3]+7 = 22
Action five: claymore swing 1d20+2: [13]+2 = 15 4d6+7: [6, 3, 4, 3]+7 = 23

Contingency Parries: 1d20+2: [14]+2 = 16 1d20+2: [9]+2 = 11 1d20+2: [20]+2 = 22 1d20+2: [4]+2 = 6 1d20+2: [10]+2 = 12

Granas · Post by **Granas** » Mon Jan 29, 2024 10:18 pm

Perception: 1d100: [69] = 69 /46%
JiC: 1d100: [98] = 98 / 1d20: [1] = 1

Conditions: Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | I.S.P. used: 4/54 | PPE used: 79/245 | Spell Strength: 15 | Familiar Empathetic/Telepathic Link 600ft | Armor of Ithan (8min | 180 SDC, AR 18 | Magic fire, lightning, cold 1/2 DMG) |

Skills

Post

After witnessing the events unfolding outside, Granas turns to Rigel and Runidia. "Trouble outside. We must make haste." Granas states and begins returning the way they came. While running, he weaves an Armor of Ithan around Rigel, Himself and Runidia. Intending to quickly arrive on the ground floor with Jorg and the dead. When Granas sees the undead priests beginning an assault on Jorg, the wizard's expression hardens. "A necromancer?" The wizard practically snarls under his breathe, displaying a genuine disgust as he quickly attempts to cast on the undead before they close in on Jorg (Granas will not Net them if it gets Jorg as well), then he'll weave an around Jorg. [-40PPE]

Granas will not stay to fight the undead, hoping to have netted some of them and trusting Runidia to help her companion, Granas rushes outside to face the actual threat; the one who summoned them.

Combat
Initiative: 1d20: [16] = 16
APM: 5
Parries (with dagger held in left hand): 1d20+3: [13]+3 = 16 ; 1d20+3: [14]+3 = 17 ; 1d20+3: [19]+3 = 22 ; 1d20+3: [14]+3 = 17 ; 1d20+3: [15]+3 = 18

A1: Run and Armor of Ithan Granas -10 PPE
A2: Run and Armor of Ithan Rigel -10 PPE
A3: Run and Armor of Ithan Runidia -10 PPE
A4: Magic Net the Undead (Hopefully) -7 PPE
A5: Run and Armor of Ithan Jorg. -10 PPE

Contingency: If the Undead are too close to Jorg to effectively be netted, A5 becomes A4 and a new A5 below.
Cont A5: Run towards Entrance and IF Silhouette is spotted; Constrain Being on Silhouette to lock her down while shouting. "She must be the NECROMANCER!" -20 PPE ; Save v Magic (15)

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Tue Jan 30, 2024 4:06 pm

Perception: 1d100: [4] = 4 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [9] = 9 ; 1d100: [7] = 7

Conditions: H.P.: 16/18, S.D.C.: 19/23, P.P.E.: 27/47 | I.S.P.: 13/27 | Spell Strength: 12 | Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC : Fire Resistant Half Damage)

As the very ground shudders under hooves of the mule, Ivy glances at Mürrischer and Alwin as they launch arrows at the red-eyed beast's hide. Where is Silhouette though? This is a decoy. Must warn the others.

Mürrischer Reisender wrote: ↑Mon Jan 29, 2024 8:36 pm"There went any chance you may have had."

Alwin wrote: ↑Mon Jan 29, 2024 10:22 am"I'll have you head this day!'

"Kick its… well, you know!" she yells, already sprinting towards the temple entrance to the southwest.

Rounding the corner of the temple, she hopefully catches sight of something that makes her blood run cold. Tolliver, the human soldier they just met, locked in a desperate dance with Silhouette.

Mages, likely ready for lightning or swords or poisons. But what about the air?

Thinking fast, Ivy raises her good arm towards their foe, channeling every ounce of faith into a desperate prayer. "Sky," she whispered, her voice barely a rasp, "grant her wish. Darkness is what she wants!"

Initiative: 1d20: [18] = 18
Action 1-2: Run southwest, getting a view of the temple entrance.
Action 3: Prayer for Intervention 1d100: [1] = 1 /42% Critical Success - Cloud of Darkness (a dark cloud wraps itself around Silhouette)
Action 4: Prayer for Intervention: 1d100: [49] = 49 /42% Fail Wind Blast (blast her away from Trask) "GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU WITLESS GOBLIN!"

Parry: Subtract 5 from all these rolls due to broken arm not being factored in thank you. 1d20+3: [5]+3 = 8 , 1d20+3: [17]+3 = 20 , 1d20+3: [11]+3 = 14 , 1d20+3: [20]+3 = 23 , 1d20+3: [13]+3 = 16 , 1d20+3: [9]+3 = 12
Dodge: 1d20+3: [17]+3 = 20 , 1d20+3: [9]+3 = 12 , 1d20+3: [4]+3 = 7 , 1d20+3: [6]+3 = 9 , 1d20+3: [2]+3 = 5 , 1d20+3: [5]+3 = 8

Save vs Magic: 1d20: [3] = 3
Save vs Poison: 1d20+2: [17]+2 = 19
Save vs Psi: 1d20+1: [15]+1 = 16

Jorg Ashblight · Post by **Jorg Ashblight** » Wed Jan 31, 2024 1:39 pm

Seeing his Fallen Comrades coming back to life for a brief moment he is happy, and then he hears the voice. "Evil Sorcery is a foot! We have UNDEAD, UNDEAD I SAY!" He draws his Bastard sword and shield as he screams those echoing words.

~ Think Jorg, how do we defeat something already dead? If it can't see or hear, or has a mouth to bite you it can't hurt you as easily, go for the heads!~ "I will put you back to rest my fallen brethren and send whomever responsible to you!"

Jorg Hacks and slashes at the dead as they approach, using his shield and sword to parry attacks and even bash them occasionally with the shield to push them back as he strikes about the undead recently returned. If he finds a tall or high vantage point to gain the high ground, he will then do so and prepare to pull his tesla bow from its covering, just in case it takes magic to defeat magic.

Post by **Locknar** » Mon Feb 05, 2024 12:54 am

The Fight at the Temple of Astra.
The Temple of Astra
Date: 24 September, 345
Weather: Clear skies
Time: Sunset (5:12:15pm)

Temple of Astra - Level 1
After witnessing the events unfolding outside, Granas turns to Rigel and Runidia. "Trouble outside. We must make haste."

The wizard works some magic and the shimmering protections of Ithan are . Then the wizard bounds down the stairs and the sound of combat can be heard below.

Temple of Astra - Ground Floor - Main Hall

"Evil Sorcery is afoot! We have UNDEAD, UNDEAD I SAY!"

Jorg's words resound through the temple as he draws his blade. As he shouts the horror approaches: six figures, once holy priests, their vacant eyes now gleaming with cold hunger.

The warrior's grip tightens on his blade as a chorus of moans escape the voiceless dead throats of the undead before him. He raises his shield, and makes a promise.

"I will put you back to rest my fallen brethren and send whomever responsible to you!"

He decides he needs higher ground, a vantage point to fight. His eyes dart across the temple hall. The main hall offers tables for cover, but they'd be easily surrounded. Behind him lies the dining room, and beyond that the stairs upward. . He backs towards the dining room entrance, which at least limits the number of opponents he should have to face.

Then they are upon him.

In the doorway only two of the moaning dead can assault Jorg. Jorg meets the first zombies' attack with a great cleaving blow. The gnomish corpse of Estelle shudders under the blow, but it seems more resistant to his assault than a normal opponent would be. Indeed, Jorg's should have taken her head clean off.

The corpse of Estelle retaliates; lashing out with dead arms. Jorg is forced to dodge backwards to avoid harm. A second corpse, of the elf lady Lyra joins the attack, but Jorg blocks this with his shield.

Jorg dances between their dead thrashing limbs, his sword a flashing steel blur. He wounds Estelle again, and one dead blow lands hard on his arm (-6 to Jorg's personal S.D.C.).

Then disaster; when avoiding one blow Jorg dodges backwards and over some spilled milk, falling down backwards. Little does he know this milk was spilled during Trask's fight against the cobbler goblin earlier this day. The corpse of Lyra is upon him in an instant, but she cannot get past Jorg's shieldwork. How fortunate it is that Jorg was not fighting in the main hall, or he might have had a half dozen undead upon him! Then Jorg hears a voice coming from behind him.

"A necromancer?" It is Granas, now down the stairs and staring at the scene with angered eyes.

Granas wastes no time. With a flourish, he weaves a spell and with a flick of his wrist, a net of crackling energy materialises. It shoots forth, over Jorg's head and ensnares four lumbering priests. Their moans morph into frustrated gurgles.

Estelle, a zombie quite sorely wounded, turns her attacks on Granas but the wizard is ready. While the enemy is distracted Jorg gets up. He sees that from behind the magical net, the corpse of Sirius lumbers towards the pair.

Then Granas casts another spell, and a shimmering haze of energy envelopes Jorg. He feels imbued with .

Wizard and warrior stand side by side as the remaining pair of shambling dead press their attack!

Temple of Astra - Northern Grounds, near the stables

The air is still with anticipation at the scene unfolding near the stables. As Ivy runs off to warn others the mad murder mule charges. Its eyes wild and red, and foam and spittle flies from its mouth. Unlike other beasts, this one pays no heed to Mürrischer's arrow, the feathered shaft is buried deep into its flank without even eliciting a flinch.

Alwin, cloaked in invisibility, remains hidden, his bowstring humming as he unleashes an arrow, not of wood and fletch, but of pure, crackling lightning. Unlike with Trask earlier this day, it strikes true! The beast convulses, electricity dancing a merry jig across its hide. Yet, the mule's charge falters only for a moment before it continues its mad dash towards Mürrischer.

With a guttural roar, the mule lets loose a primal war cry.

"HEE-HAW!"

The mule leaps, its powerful form twisting in mid-air, but Mürrischer wasn't dodging.

Dear Readers, it is said that one does not simply; dodge a murder mule. At least not ! The Mule of Murder kicks Mürrischer full in the chest with both rear legs. The impact sends the wolfen up and away, crashing into a nearby tree. One branch snaps under his weight. (-20 to Mürrischer's personal S.D.C.)

But Mürrischer isn't done. Oh no. Fueled by fury and adrenaline, he springs back to his feet, and what was once a bow is now a mighty claymore sword that gleams in his grasp. His muddied-brown eyes, ablaze with murderous intent, mirror a strange black storm brewing above. Thunder rolls, and the sun is eclipsed by dark clouds.

Alwin sees his chance. Another volley of thunderous arrows rain towards their foe, each imbued with potent lightning magic. They jolt the mule's already unstable frame. The beast, confused and weakened, begins to falter, its movements disjointed as the electrical pulses ravage its insides.

Mürrischer senses the moment indeed ripe. He is a blur of fur and muscle as he charges. His blade sings a song of death as it meet the mule's side, then its neck, carving with swift, brutal efficiency.

The severed head bounces comically across the grass.

Temple of Astra - Entrance

"You always were a twit. So did you come up with this plan all on your own, or did someone have to spell it out for you." Trask says in a borderline mocking tone. "Guess you never found your dad."

Silhouette smiles cruelly, and replies with magical words of dark power. Her blades radiate a chilling aura of death.

"You irritate me," Silhouette says loftily, "and I tire of seeing your old face. Time to die."

The changeling's movements are impossibly fast, fuelled by dark magic that warps the air around her. Each feint, each thrust, seemed to unfold in two timelines – a phantom echo preceding the actual strike. For Trask, his style isn't flashy but bears the weight of years spent on battlefields, and he fights like never before to prevent disaster.

Trask overreaches in an overhead strike and on the gravel. Silhouette lashes out with a foot, but Trask catches the strike on his indestructible shield. The force of the blow is supernatural, and Trask is flung sideways by the force of it but rolls with the motion and is back on his feet an instant later.

Silhouette, her ebony eyes gleaming with cold amusement, presses the attack. Trask sees a flaw in her style; it is all attack. With twin blades seeking to cut him to ribbons she cannot parry efficiently. He counters, his movements deceptively slow, yet precise. A cut is aimed at her off-hand and steel meets flesh. His opponent screams with surprise and fury.

Steel clashes against steel, the impact echoing through the temple grounds. A blur of blades is aimed for Trask's throat, but Trask, fueled by instinct honed in the fires of war, twists aside just in time. The blades sing past his ear, hitting the temple wall and sending out a spray of sparks.

Both age and magic are formidable foes. Which would prevail?

The dance continues a few more moments, a blow from Silhouette is stopped by Trask's newly acquired splint armour. A few strikes from Trask also strike home. Then the matter is decided suddenly. A particularly vicious feint from Silhouette finds a gap in Trask's defenses. He raises his shield, deflecting the main blow, but a glint of metal slips past. A dagger, magically imbued with dark malice and shadow, snakes around the shield and finds purchase in his side.

Pain erupts, a searing fire that steals his breath and brings the world into a dizzying tilt. The dagger shatters with the force of the blow, leaving a length of jagged steel buried deep within him.

Silhouette, a cruel smile blooming on her lips, moves in for the kill. Trask, fueled by a surge of defiance, backs towards the temple and the hope of getting some sturdy wooden doors between him and the changeling. He stumbles backwards, vision blurring, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword with white knuckles.

Then the gnome priestess comes running from around the northern corner of the temple. Ivy's heart pounds as she witnesses the scene before her. With a desperate prayer, Ivy focuses her thoughts and "GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU WITLESS GOBLIN!"

Alas Silhouette is no ordinary foe. Her senses are psionically enhanced and she seems to have known the gnome was coming. Another cruel and delighted smile twists her lips, and with the smooth motion of one arm, several throwing knives spin through the air towards Ivy. Each laced with dark necromatic energies.

Then a sudden, chilling darkness blooms around Silhouette. Indeed, in that moment the very sun is .

The changeling stumbles, her attack faltering as confusion and disorientation replace her predatory grace. She lashes out at Trask, intent on finishing him off. But Ivy's dark cloud has tipped the scales in Trask's favor. The old soldier easily parries Silhouette's blinded attacks. Trask replies with a wild stab in the dark of his own, which connects with something solid in the cloud. Trask hears the changeling snarl somewhere within the dark cloud that clings to her.

Silhouette deftly moves left and right with uncanny speed, but the cloud remains latched to her.

"What magic is this?!" She howls.

Ivy sees none of this, for her focus is upon the blades spinning towards her. The gnome's reflexes kick in and she dances backwards, dodging one blade with a sideways step. For her time seems to warp and bend, the world is a mix of desperate movement and pain lacing through her broken arm. With her good arm, she spins her spear and parries another two knives. Then it is over.

Trask and Ivy exchange a glance. The gnome smiles kindly, but no words come out. A white-hot searing pain lances through her. She tastes blood and her breath hitches, and the world seems to move sideways sickeningly. Trask sees a knife lodged deeply in the gnome's chest. Ivy looks down and sees it too, and a surprised expression shows on her face. A knife she missed. Her knees buckle and she crumples to the ground. Darkness claims her vision. As consciousness slips away, the last thing she hears is a roll of furious thunder echoing across the darkened skies.

Everyone hears the thunder, and then the sun is eclipsed by dark roiling clouds overhead.

Trask stands frozen a moment, watching Ivy fall and then Silhouette's terrified scream draws his attention. The darkness around her has grown and intensified. It is now a tear in reality itself. A portal! Silhouette is drawn into it, but before crossing the threshold she blindly grabs an apple sapling in the ground. She hang there, suspended in the air; just outside the rift. As more thunder booms throughout the mountains and Trask catches sight of what lies within the rift. A land of shadows, and dozens of monstrous white eyes, moving closer. And fearsome teeth.

"Help me!" Silhouette screams.

The sapling she clings to bends and is surely about to break. Silhouette's screams reach a fever pitch. Trask could pull her free, or not.

WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS?

Butcher's Bill
Alwin: 37/37 H.P., 40/40 S.D.C.: 40, 72/110 P.P.E. (Spells active: Sense Magic and Invisibility: Simple)
Granas: 41/41 H.P., 22/22 S.D.C., 6/54 I.S.P., 166/245 P.P.E. | Armor of Ithan Spell: (8min | 180 S.D.C., A.R. 18 | Magic fire, lightning, cold 1/2 DMG)
Ivy (coma): -6/22 H.P., 0/23 S.D.C., 27/41 I.S.P. | Armor: Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC)
Jorg: 28/28 H.P., 47/53 S.D.C., | Armor of Ithan Spell: (8min | 180 S.D.C., A.R. 18 | Magic fire, lightning, cold 1/2 DMG)
Mürrischer: 30/30 H.P., 9/29 S.D.C., 28/28 I.S.P.
Runidia: | Armor of Ithan Spell: (8min | 180 S.D.C., A.R. 18 | Magic fire, lightning, cold 1/2 DMG)
Tolliver: 8/49 H.P., 0/71 S.D.C., -17 I.S.P. | Armor: Splint Mail AR: 16; 20/82;

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Mon Feb 05, 2024 2:45 pm

Perception: 1d100: [13] = 13 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [20] = 20 , 1d100: [20] = 20
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive) , Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks).

The few seconds of the fight that did happen was almost a blur to the veteran soldier. No time for real thinking, especially when your opponent is hopped up on dark magic and psionic powers. Trask is almost surprised when the vortex opens.

Silhouette wrote:"Help me!" Silhouette screams.

Trask, bleeding, bruised, and tired stares dead-eyed at Silhouette screams. "No." Trask says as he moves forward and cuts at the sapling with his sword. The action is likely one of the cruelest things the man has ever done in his life, one that will likely haunt him for the rest of his remaining days.

Trask, remembering the seriousness of the situation, doesn't stay to gloat. Trask turns quickly on his heel, and begins running towards the gnome. "Utu, hold your hand for a moment longer, the little one is of use to us." Trask whispers as he rushes the fallen Ivy. Trask stops next to her in a kneeling slide. Trask's hands gnarled and bloody fumble at the clasps to his bag, practiced hand reaching in the magical space, quickly digging out one of his potions of healing by touch alone.

Trask grabs up Ivy's body and tips her head back. Please work. Trask thinks as he eases the cork loose with his teeth, and tips the potion into Ivy's mouth. Trask waits a moment, looking for signs of life, before willing his own wounds to close.

"You're okay... you're okay."

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Mon Feb 05, 2024 4:39 pm

Perception: 1d100: [71] = 71 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [15] = 15 ; 1d100: [27] = 27

Conditions: H.P.: -6/22, S.D.C.: 0/23, P.P.E.: 27/52 | I.S.P.: 13/41 | Spell Strength: 12 | Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC : Fire Resistant Half Damage)

Ivy drifts in an ocean of clouds, the sting of betrayal and the cold bite of steel lingering in her mind.

Silhouette was working with them all along.

Am I dead?

Memories of the battle flicker through her mind - Silhouette's cruel smile, the flash of the spinning blades, and the sickening thud as she collapsed.

I suppose I am dead. This isn't so bad. Is my family here somewhere?

She sees no such thing, and so she listens intently. Somewhere, far far away, Ivy thinks she hears a voice.

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Mon Feb 05, 2024 2:45 pm "Utu, hold your hand for a moment longer, the little one is of use to us."

Utu? What has Utu to do with me? I am dead? Or... a crossroads?

"A choice?" She asks the clouds about her. She feels a momentary wave of despair. "They are too powerful," she croaks, suddenly her voice is gone. "I cannot beat ones such as these. I.. was dead in an instant. Wasn't I?"

More silence.

"Perhaps my work is done? If so, I am grateful for the time I had. Please help the others."

"If not, I will try to do better. Please tell me how."

Prayer of Communion 1d100: [46] = 46 / 49%

She bows her head, accepting whatever fate awaits her.

The clouds shift and from behind one steps a familiar form. Ambrosius, her beloved terrier, with his tail wagging with ethereal joy.

"Ambrosius?" Tears blur her vision. His fur shimmers with an otherworldly light, and nudges her hand with his wet nose. A sob escapes her lips as she throws her arms around this apparition.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, burying her face in his fur. "I should not have sent you away. I have been there. I should have protected you."

Ambrosius whines softly, licking away her tears with a spectral tongue. It is a solace she desperately craves.

The priestess remembers the walks in the sun, the belly rubs, and the countless games of fetch?

"We were happy, weren't we?"

Coma recovery rolls
1d100: [42] = 42
1d100: [62] = 62
1d100: [99] = 99

Mürrischer Reisender · Tue Feb 06, 2024 4:31 pm

Perception: 1d100: [96] = 96 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [19] = 19 / 1d100: [70] = 70

Letting Ivy run off to warn the others held no resistance when a rampaging mule is on the charge and able to land good blows on oneself. "Ivy!"

between him and Alwin, the mule doesn't last long. He briefly turns his head to Alwin in haste to bring up the rear, "Hopefully we're faster."

He goes through the same process as he had moments before, and changes from transformable claymore back to his bow, sword returning to its state as a bracelet on his wrist. He doesn't entirely make the bend when he sees it. "Ivy!"

Seeing Silhoutte clinging to a sapling as some magic he barely knows works its hand at swallowing her. Snarl wrenched on his face for the length of time it takes to take the shot, he takes his bow, knocks the arrow and makes a good attempt at sending the first arrow throw her cranium. He is less concerned about the second shot.

Combat:
Initiative: 1d20+1: [15]+1 = 16
Conditions:
I.S.P.: 28
H.P.: 30
S.D.C.: 9

Action one: switch from Transformable Claymore to bow
Action two-four: Called Shot: shoot Silhoutte in the head with an arrow 1d20+6: [1]+6 = 7 3d6: [6, 2, 3] = 11
Action five: shoot Silhoutte with an arrow 1d20+3: [5]+3 = 8 3d6: [6, 2, 4] = 12

Runidia Shatterhelm · Post by **Runidia Shatterhelm** » Tue Feb 06, 2024 7:47 pm

Perception: 1d100: [9] = 9 / 36%
JiC d100: 1d100: [7] = 7 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [13] = 13

Armor of Ithan: A.R. 18, 180 / 180 S.D.C., Duration: 31/32 rounds remaining.

Runidia has been silent since reaching the temple. Dangerously silent. She growled one threat of warning to any may have harmed those in the temple... and then her worst fears had been confirmed. Her entire demeanor, as if a mask, had completely as her eyes rolled over the people she was supposed to protect. Those she called friends. Her eyes had lingered on Zara for a long time until she had been convinced to leave the room.

When the time comes for battle, despite Granas' and Jorg's frantic cries for help, Runidia doesn't move for a moment. Even when the Armor of Ithan surrounds her, supplementing her heavy plate with the spell's magical protection, the dwarf woman's face is blank. Rigel can see as finally, she twitches. Some sound of the battle outside has broken her out of her stupor, if only just. Slowly, her face turns upward and her eyes search for his. "Don't ya die on me too, lad," she breathes, her voice hardly audible against the clamoring outside of the room to the priest's ears.

It's the first time he's seen tears in her eyes that weren't of mirth or drunkenness.

And without another word, she hefts her axe, and moves to stand near the top of the stairs. My friends are down there, she thinks. She is about to take a step, before vividly in her mind's eye she sees Rigel's corpse in the room above, blood cooling because she wasn't there to protect him either. She closes her eyes fiercely and forces herself downwards. Can Ah really kill 'em?

Runidia almost crashes down the stairs, each step falling faster and harder than the last until the armor-clad woman is on the ground floor, spinning to see where the others are fighting off the undead. Her eyes hold on one of the abominations, not seeing the dead horror in front of her but instead the grinning face of someones she had come to care for.

Estelle, a small, happy gnome who didn't mind the sometimes overly friendly attentions of the dwarven palladin, though never returned them. Who knew just the tune to play to accompany Runidia's drunken singing. Who could have raised the spirits of everyone around her in any situation. Now clawing mindlessly at one who had dedicated years to trying to keep her safe.

Sirius, someone who could be wise and aloof, but could be trusted to come down and have a drink, drop the pretenses and just be a friend when you needed him to be. The kindest smile on his face even as he told the dirtiest jokes she had ever heard, as though the crass humor were just as important to hear and digest as the sayings and teachings of the order. Now nothing but a bloodless ruin, cratering forward to slay those who didn't need to be involved in this tragedy, didn't deserve to be wrapped up in it.

The dwarf doesn't stop moving. Each step of her short legs driving her forward even as she fights to keep her eyes open. Ah don't know if Ah can kill 'em. She's nearly hyper-ventilating as she closes in on the battle. She doesn't stop moving, for all her doubts, decades of training pushing forward. But Ah will. They're horrors now. They need ta be put down. They want to be put to rest.

Her knuckles grasp the handle of her battle-axe so tightly the metal in her gauntlets creak, and finally, as if the past few seconds have been an eternity, the dwarf joins the fray. She holds no cries of battle, no rage to scream out at those who she once called a second family. Between her calculating, heavy swings and hard blocks, Runidia only sobs.

Combat

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Wed Feb 07, 2024 6:17 am

Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [1] = 1
JIC: 1d20: [20] = 20 and 1d100: [22] = 22

Conditions: Invisibility (simple), Sense Magic

Post

Alwin smiles with a pleasure from deep in his heart, as Muri cleaves the head from the donkey, while it writhes on the ground in pain from the lightning arrows. your master will soon know the same ugly death. Alwin walks to the head and picks it up by the upper most part of the mane and turns to face it toward Muri. Still invisible he manipulates the mules jaw to mimic speaking while he voices, "What did I ever do to you Muri?"

Mürrischer Reisender wrote: ↑Tue Feb 06, 2024 4:31 pm between him and Alwin, the mule doesn't last long. He briefly turns his head to Alwin in haste to bring up the rear, "Hopefully we're faster."

He considers the comment and thinks to himself, we were faster than this demonic beast, before adding "we are..."

His response is cut off as he sees Muri knock an arrow in his bow after calling out Ivy's name. Alwin runs to Muri's position feeling a knot in his stomach. No... no... no...

The scene unfolds before his eyes, and he is momentarily stunned by the horror of it all. Ivy lying on the ground, Sil about to be sucked into some vortex. He watches, feeling a sense of non-existence, first the elation of dispatching the mule so quickly to the sudden realization that they may have lost Ivy for good this time. Emotion boils within the elf. Anger, sadness and fear... they stew together dredging up an all too familiar emotion. Hatred. In that moment Alwin knows he will forever hate all changelings. None of their kind can be good. More so than humans... All changelings must be scoured from the earth!

Granas · Post by **Granas** » Thu Feb 08, 2024 8:09 am

Perception: 1d100: [20] = 20 /46%
JiC: 1d100: [64] = 64 / 1d20: [9] = 9

Conditions: Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | I.S.P. used: 4/54 | PPE used: 79/245 | Spell Strength: 15 | Familiar Empathetic/Telepathic Link 600ft | Armor of Ithan (8min | 180 SDC, AR 18 | Magic fire, lightning, cold 1/2 DMG) |

Skills
Lore, Magic: 1d100: [86] = 86 /92% [Weakness of these particular types of undead? Kill the Summoner, or more?]

Post

Standing blocked by the pair of undead next to Jorg, the wizard knows the others outside are hopefully closing in. "Undead still in the temple!" Granas calls out, hoping his voice will carry enough to warn Trask, Ivy and the others of the indoor thread. Not taking time to see through the eyes of his familiar, he instead reaches out with his mind and focuses on the pair of chairs visible in the main room against the wall. Granas flicks his wrist and sends them both flying towards the undead blocking there way, looking to Jorg and Runidia. "Move!" He calls out as the chairs hopefully impact the back of the undead and force them to the ground.

Combat
Initiative: 1d20: [4] = 4
APM: 5
Parries (with dagger held in left hand): 1d20+3: [4]+3 = 7 ; 1d20+3: [1]+3 = 4 ; 1d20+3: [15]+3 = 18 ; 1d20+3: [11]+3 = 14 ; 1d20+3: [6]+3 = 9

Disclaimer: Assuming a Chair is a medium object, weighing between 5-10lbs for 3d4 DMG (possibly large if weighing more than 10lbs and the type of wood it is for 3D6)

A1: TK on the wooden chair against the wall to hit Undead 1. Strike: 1d20+3: [6]+3 = 9 DMG: 3d4: [4, 2, 1] = 7
A2: TK on the wooden chair against the wall to hit Undead 2. Strike: 1d20+3: [6]+3 = 9 DMG: 3d4: [2, 2, 3] = 7
A3: Dedicated Dodge to avoid the chairs and undead: 1d20+2: [16]+2 = 18

A4-5: Granas will try to move past the two undead blocking the path and to a more open space to see the front doorway. Dedicated dodge to move past them. 1d20+2: [19]+2 = 21 1d20+2: [2]+2 = 4

Contingency: If Runidia has felled one of the undead, or is controlling both, he won't TK-hit them and risk hitting her
Cont A5: Ready to move and cast Heal Wounds on Ivy and/or Trask if he sees them wounded.[/color]

Post by **Locknar** » Thu Feb 08, 2024 10:15 pm

Parting is such sweet sorrow.
The Temple of Astra
Date: 24 September, 345
Weather: Clear skies
Time: Sunset (5:30pm)

Temple of Astra - Entrance
The air crackles with eldritch energy as the shadowy portal writhes like a hungry beast. The changeling hangs onto the sapling, calling for help to avoid her fate.

"No." Trask says as he moves forward. Not to assist, but to swing his blade once more. The sapling is cut in half as Silhouette rewards Trask with a look of absolute hatred. A wave of psionic madness invades Trask's mind, however he resists and the sensation fades as the villain tumbles backwards into the portal.

Turning his back, the fighter runs to Ivy where the priestess lies unconscious. The dagger still protrudes from her chest. Kneeling beside her he removes it and quickly administers a healing potion.

"You're okay... you're okay." He says while looking for signs of life. Ivy's lips move, and if he listens he can hear her what seems to be a verse.

Temple of Astra - Northwest corner

Mürrischer and Alwin bask in the warm aftermath of their victory. Alwin even goes so far as to hold up the severed mule head and pantomime it in jest.

A moment later the moment is over as Mürrischer spies trouble and nocks an arrow. Alwin hastens to see what is amiss.

"Ivy!"

Alwin stares as a knot of dread grows in his guts. Not so Mürrischer! He raises his bow arm and draws to his cheek, aiming for the treacherous changeling he sees before the yawning shadowgate. But then Trask severs the sapling, Silhouette goes tumbling, and worst of all; Mürrischer !

Indeed a tickle invaded his nose, and the mighty sneeze that follows echoes like a thunderclap. But where did the arrow go?!

Well Dear Readers, the arrow, instead of finding its mark, veers wildly indeed. It heads right at Alwin! But lo, Alwin, the nimble elfin archer, having seen such a feat performed by Trask this very day, the stray missile with a blur of movement that shocks even him.

But the danger isn't yet over. The deflected arrow continues its deadly trajectory, and heads straight for their unconscious friend, Ivy, who lies sprawled on the ground! Happily, in that split second, the glint of metal catches Trask's eye as he kneels beside Ivy administering a healing potion. With a flick of his arm, he raises his shield, the errant arrow with a satisfying clang. He barely glances at it, as if he were merely swatting at a mosquito.

That arrow's tale is not over yet. For now it heads along with additional unintended power towards its new target. It strikes Silhouette in the buttocks as she plunges into the swirling portal. Then the portal itself flickers one last time before collapsing in on itself, leaving behind only a faint wisp of shadowy smoke.

Dreams and Visions
Ivy dreams of an ethereal skyscape composed of white clouds and soft light. Is it the afterlife? She wonders about it as her mind reaches out in a prayer of communion.

Ivy wrote: ↑Mon Feb 05, 2024 4:39 pm "A choice?" She asks the clouds about her. She feels a momentary wave of despair. "They are too powerful," she croaks, suddenly her voice is gone. "I cannot beat ones such as these. I.. was dead in an instant. Wasn't I?"

The prayer is answered. Suddenly, a blinding light pierces the clouds. A magnificent white pegasus, its wings parting the vapours before her, descends towards Ivy. Sky's gaze, gentle yet deep, holds Ivy's.

Sky dips its head, its mane cascading around her. "You are needed. Not as a warrior. You possess wisdom and compassion to unite diverse minds and hearts. That is your path."

The light begins to recede, and Sky's visage fades along with it. Then she hears the goddess recite a verse in an otherworldly voice, like a chorus of wind chimes and lutes.

"Fret not, dear soul, though tempests rage and skies unleash their fury's might,
For wisdom shields the stalwart heart, and prepares it to face the darkest night.
The storm, a crucible of power, tests the mettle of the tree,
Its boughs may bend, but roots grow strong, for greater things are meant to be.

Each struggle faced, each hardship borne, shall forge within a strength refined.
A grace unveiled, a vessel honed, to weather storms of every kind.
So let the tempests wash upon your soul, their fury shaping you anew,
And rise above, a testament to strength, with skies unfurled, a heart of blue.

True peace, it dwells not in the lull, when skies are fair and winds lie still,
But in the quietude within, when storms rage yet the spirit's will
Finds solace in the tempest's heart, and dances with the lightning's spark.
Return, if so your courage bids, for trials refine, leaving their mark."

The priestess is alone in the surreal cloudscape. A crossroad between life and death.

Then Ambrosius appears, and the priestess shares a tender moment with her fallen companion.

Ivy wrote: ↑Mon Feb 05, 2024 4:39 pm "Ambrosius?" Tears blur her vision. His fur shimmers with an otherworldly light, and nudges her hand with his wet nose. A sob escapes her lips as she throws her arms around this apparition.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers, burying her face in his fur. "I should not have sent you away. I have been there. I should have protected you."
"We were happy, weren't we?"

It is indeed a time to say goodbye that was denied the priestess in life. Though Ambrosius does not speak, his warmth seems to say. "Don't blame yourself, the times were the happiest. It was just my time. I am happy."

A number of memories surface in Ivy's mind. Walks in the sun, so many belly rubs, countless games of fetch and wet noses nudging her awake each morning. Ambrosius was indeed a furry companion through thick and thin. It leaves the gnome with a lingering warmth and sense of closure, and a feeling of renewed purpose.

Then the soft cloud-light around her intensifies, and Ambrosius too begins to fade. But before Ambrosius fades completely, the dog looks at Ivy gravely. And, though Ivy might doubt her sanity at that moment, he speaks!

"Team. Work. Is. Very. Important. Ruff!"

The dog winks, and then is gone.

Then Ivy awakens with a gasp. Pain lances through her chest and the world swims back into focus. Ivy sees Trask's worried face. She isn't alone.

Meanwhile, within the Temple
Runidia recovers from her momentary stupor to hear the sounds of battle downstairs. She sees Rigel with a naked shortsword in hand, and he is rummaging through a chest looking for something. Every instinct in her tells her to charge downstairs and join the fight, but the fear of leaving Rigel unguarded stops her.

"Go!" the young priest shouts. "Granas needs help! I'll come soon with a surprise."

"Don't ya die on me too, lad," she breathes. Without another word, Runidia bolts down the stairs and sees a sight that sends pangs of grief through her heart. A struggle against the risen corpses of her fallen friends. But she realises they are no longer her friends. Their eyes, once filled with life, now glowed with an empty hunger.

The question gnaws at her. Can she truly bring herself to strike down what remains of their souls?

Granas casts Telekinesis (-8 P.P.E.) and chairs begin to flail about the very air to assault the undead that bar the way out.

"Move!" he shouts.

Runidia charges, her weapon held high to deliver a killing blow. Yes, she will strike down the dead even if they wear familiar faces.

And then, before the dwarf strikes, the undead lurch, and then are stilled. They fall to the floor! The unnatural light in their eyes fades away, replaced by the hollow emptiness of death.

The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the raspy breaths of those still living. A visibly relieved Rigel comes bounding down the stairs afterward with several scrolls in hand.

Aftermath
The survivors gather around Ivy. She is held in Trask's arms as a child would be. It is easy to forget how small gnomes are, and her current frailty makes it all the more striking. Though weak, she is conscious and appears strangely joyous after her near-death experience.

Indeed, Ivy looks for her experiences.

Silhouette is indeed gone. Though she left Ivy a dagger to remember her by. You also find her sword, which was dropped when she grabbed at the now severed apple sapling. Farther afield are three other short blades that thrown during the fight.

There are angry looking storm clouds overhead, but even now they are changing colour, and soon are but a vast canvas of light grey, devoid of the previous darkness. It is as if someone had simply repainted the storm with a brushstroke. Then the light grey shifts and parts, and the sunset beyond streams though. A kaleidoscope of warm colors basking the mountains with soft light. It is a breathtaking sunset, revealed by some unknown transformation occurring at an impossible speed.

As the sunlight fails and darkness approaches, you all hear horse hooves in the distance, coming from the road to Adrianna.

"That will be the city guard," Rigel observes. "I wonder what goblin tricks kept them away so long? They'll be here in another 5 minutes."

Butcher's Bill
Alwin: 37/37 H.P., 40/40 S.D.C.: 40, 72/110 P.P.E.
Granas: 41/41 H.P., 22/22 S.D.C., 6/54 I.S.P., 158/245 P.P.E.
Ivy: 1/22 H.P., 0/23 S.D.C., 27/41 I.S.P. | Armor: Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC)
Jorg: 28/28 H.P., 47/53 S.D.C.
Mürrischer: 30/30 H.P., 9/29 S.D.C., 28/28 I.S.P.
Runidia: 28/28 H.P., 30/30 S.D.C., 12/12 P.P.E.| Armor: Dwarf Plate AR: 17; 160/160 | Shield 100/100
Tolliver: 8/49 H.P., 0/71 S.D.C., 27/44 I.S.P. | Armor: Splint Mail AR: 16; 20/82;

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Sat Feb 10, 2024 3:46 am

Perception: 1d100: [20] = 20 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [6] = 6 ; 1d100: [86] = 86

Conditions: H.P.: 1/22, S.D.C.: 0/23, P.P.E.: 27/52 | I.S.P.: 13/41 | Spell Strength: 12 | Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC : Fire Resistant Half Damage)

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 08, 2024 10:15 pm The survivors gather around Ivy. She is held in Trask's arms as a child would be. It is easy to forget how small gnomes are, and her current frailty makes it all the more striking. Though weak, she is conscious and appears strangely joyous after her near-death experience.

Indeed, Ivy looks
I noticed you arranging the purchase of additional PS and PE with MGP on your sheet, not to mention reaching level 5.
for her experiences.

There are angry looking storm clouds overhead, but even now they are changing colour, and soon are but a vast canvas of light grey, devoid of the previous darkness. It is as if someone had simply repainted the storm with a brushstroke. Then the light grey shifts and parts, and the sunset beyond streams though. A kaleidoscope of warm colors basking the mountains with soft light. It is a breathtaking sunset, revealed by some unknown transformation occurring at an impossible speed.

As her eyelids flutter open Ivy truly does look joyous. Ambrosius is fine. And I .. I am needed in the storm. The sunset momentarily blinds her as she adjusts. Then Trask comes into focus, and in that moment something of the advice given her comes to her lips.

"Each struggle faced, each hardship borne, shall forge within a strength refined." Ivy says to herself, lost in her thoughts. "Och, sure and the hardship, it toughens ye up like the wind over the fair islands, fittin' ye for the trials yet to come." She speaks in a warm, lilting Irish Gnomish accent.

Ivy reaches out a hand, her fingers brushing against the rough sleeve of Trask's armor. "Thought I was a moment too late there, I did. Thank you," she whispers, genuine gratitude filling her voice. But then, her eyes catch the crimson stain spreading across his tunic. "That scoundrel near had your number and mine."

She remembers Trask's refusal of her healing earlier. But this was different. The words spoken to her by.... Did Ambrosius truly break his silence? .... the vision. Now focus here, fate wouldn't bring us together to be bickering like banshees.

"This time," she says firmly, feeling her her voice gain a little strength. "let me mend your wounds, no ifs, whys, or buts about it!"

She struggles to her feet, her body hurting in countless places. Nonetheless she helps Trask remove the broken blade form his side. Once free she lays on hands, she's a little surprised at how unsteady they are.

Healing Touches for Trask (to HP or SDC as needed):
2d4: [2, 4] = 6
2d4: [2, 3] = 5
2d4: [4, 3] = 7
2d4: [1, 2] = 3

As she works, she finds it helps her forget her own hurt. She also speaks, which helps her focus.

"Now, listen close lads, for I've seen a glimpse beyond the veil, a vision whispered on the clouds of the Otherworld. Much of it came in rhymes," she explains, not aware that Trask may have heard her mumbling it whilst unconscious.

"The whole picture be beyond me, for its as murky as a bog at midnight. What lies ahead, I cannot say, but by the gods, this hardship will forge us anew, stronger than tempered iron. But this I know for certain: alone, we'll surely perish." The priest looks seriously at Trask, then turns to any who may have gathered nearby. She is immensely grateful to see everyone is still alive and that none seem seriously hurt.

"Fate has bound us together, so let's face this hurricane shoulder to shoulder. We'll weather this storm, aye, that we will!"

Ivy then checks anyone else present for wounds. She will repeat healing as often as needed until all her friends are restored. She does not do likewise for herself, for that is not how the power of priests works. Instead she grits her teeth and focuses on the needs of others.

Mürrischer Reisender · Sun Feb 11, 2024 4:00 pm

Perception: 1d100: [8] = 8 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [8] = 8 / 1d100: [22] = 22

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 08, 2024 10:15 pmThat arrow's tale is not over yet. For now it heads along with additional unintended power towards its new target. It strikes Silhouette in the buttocks as she plunges into the swirling portal. Then the portal itself flickers one last time before collapsing in on itself, leaving behind only a faint wisp of shadowy smoke.

"Well that's one arrow I won't be getting back." He says after watching the scene in which arrows misses its target in style.

His face show only relief when he witnesses Ivy stir once more, letting out a breath as he does.

Ivy wrote: ↑Sat Feb 10, 2024 3:46 am"While I was on the threshold of the Afterlife, I had a vision. Much of it was in verse," she explains, not aware that Trask may have heard her mumbling it whilst unconscious.

"I don't know what is coming, but the hardship will strengthen us. And we need to work together." The priest looks seriously at Trask, then turns to any who may have gathered nearby. She is immensely grateful to see everyone is still alive and that none seem seriously hurt.

He listens without interruption as Ivy speaks, but only has one note to add even as he observes what wounds remain unhealed by Trasks' medicine. "We will come through. But I'm not sure you can take going down like you've been a third time.

Holistic Medicine: 1d100: [53] = 53 /50% To identify remaining wounds on Ivy.
Track Blood Scent: 1d100: [86] = 86 /36% To smell blood from open wounds

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 08, 2024 10:15 pmAs the sunlight fails and darkness approaches, you all hear horse hooves in the distance, coming from the road to Adrianna.

"That will be the city guard," Rigel observes. "I wonder what goblin tricks kept them away so long? They'll be here in another 5 minutes."

At the sound that guard may be approaching, Mürrischer quickly makes sure the one cloak on his person is securely hidden under his armor wear he stored it, virtually stuffed away beneath the leather. He gives no context to anyone that may have seen, he only returns a, "Like you've never seen me before.

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Wed Feb 14, 2024 7:41 pm

Perception: 1d100: [18] = 18 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [11] = 11 , 1d100: [23] = 23
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive) , Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks).

Trask smiles as Ivy starts breathing, and her eyes open. Thank you my lord... You won't regret your decision. Trask inwardly prays to Utu.

Ivy wrote:"This time, let me mend your wounds, no ifs, whys, or buts about it!"

Trask shakes his head. "No lass. No arguments from me." Trask says then winces. "Demon spawn broke one of her knives off in my ribs... Set's blood that stings." Trask says as he tries to pull the blade from his side, with a bunch of effort.

First Aid 1d100: [70] = 70 /45% Fail (Extricate the blade from his ribs.)
First Aid 1d100: [14] = 14 /45% Success (Try again to Extricate the blade from his ribs.)

Ivy wrote:"Now, listen close lads, for I've seen a glimpse beyond the veil, a vision whispered on the clouds of the Otherworld. Much of it came in rhymes, The whole picture be beyond me, for its as murky as a bog at midnight. What lies ahead, I cannot say, but by the gods, this hardship will forge us anew, stronger than tempered iron. But this I know for certain: alone, we'll surely perish... Fate has bound us together, so let's face this hurricane shoulder to shoulder. We'll weather this storm, aye, that we will!"

Trask nods. "Gods be like that sometimes. They do strange things and bring unusual people together to do tasks that they're unusually tight lipped about." Trask says in agreement with the gnome.

Mürrischer wrote:"Well that's one arrow I won't be getting back."

Trask gives the Wolfen a look, but sighs and gives up trying to be angry. Trask helps Ivy to her feet before getting up himself. "I'll be back, just checking on my Mule Garrick." Trask says as he moves back over to his old friend. "Are you okay old friend?" Trask asks as he scratches the Mule between his ears.

Garrick dealt with, Trask returns to wait for the guard. "So are we going to stay here the night? No sense in traveling in the dark, especially not knowing where we are going." Trask asks.

Runidia Shatterhelm · Post by **Runidia Shatterhelm** » Wed Feb 14, 2024 8:34 pm

Perception: 1d100: [15] = 15 / 36%
JiC d100: 1d100: [45] = 45 ; JiC d20: 1d20: [17] = 17

As the undead fall, Runidia sends up a silent prayer to the gods that she wasn't forced to have to strike at any of them. She wipes her face, is silent a moment, before turning to Rigel and Jorg. "...We should check on th' others, lad, and prep fer burial." She turns her head slightly at the sound of approaching horses, nodding at the explanation of it most likely being the guard. "Ah'll pay good coin for 'em to help now. No sense in holdin' a grudge if'n foul work was at play."

She leans down and closes the eyes of her gnomish friend and the head priest, then moves to leave the building. Those perceptive enough can see her grip on her axe is still knuckle-white as she exits.

Blinking in the sunlight, the dwarf's heart drops for a moment as she sees Ivy's state, before she's flooded with relief as she speaks and moves to help Trask. Tromping over, she tries and fails to put on a smile. "Yer wounds are fierce Ivy, but ye keep to yer duties. Good on you, lass." Without another word, she pulls out her supplies. While no doctor, or even good at first aid, she can at least try and mix together a few poultices and rubs to ease the gnome's pains.

Failed! - Holistic Medicine: 1d100: [89] = 89 / 50% - Identify what she needs for Ivy's injuries.
Failed! - Holistic Medicine: 1d100: [42] = 42 / 40% - Actually make something that can help.

If she fails to make anything useful, she will instead offer Ivy some pain-numbing alcohol in the form of her flask apologetically.

Ivy wrote:"Now, listen close lads, for I've seen a glimpse beyond the veil, a vision whispered on the clouds of the Otherworld. Much of it came in rhymes," she explains, not aware that Trask may have heard her mumbling it whilst unconscious.

"The whole picture be beyond me, for its as murky as a bog at midnight. What lies ahead, I cannot say, but by the gods, this hardship will forge us anew, stronger than tempered iron. But this I know for certain: alone, we'll surely perish." The priest looks seriously at Trask, then turns to any who may have gathered nearby. She is immensely grateful to see everyone is still alive and that none seem seriously hurt.

"Fate has bound us together, so let's face this hurricane shoulder to shoulder. We'll weather this storm, aye, that we will!"

She's got ah fire in her belly, this one. Her crew's good ta 'ave her with 'em. The dwarf nods along, and aloud replies, "Those who did this here ain't gonna get far. They done us all wrong, though it seem tha gods are on our side fer you ta be living still. Ah'll stick with ye at least until we've delivered justice.

Mürrischer Reisender · Wed Feb 14, 2024 9:30 pm

[Rolls carried]

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Wed Feb 14, 2024 7:41 pmTrask gives the Wolfen a look, but sighs and gives up trying to be angry. Trask helps Ivy to her feet before getting up himself. "I'll be back, just checking on my Mule Garrick." Trask says as he moves back over to his old friend. "Are you okay old friend?" Trask asks as he scratches the Mule between his ears.

He nods slowly after receiving a look from the old human and an uncertain ear turns for a moment. "Vut... Did I say somefing?" He doesn't stay on it long as Trask had already moved on to the mule.

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Wed Feb 14, 2024 7:41 pmGarrick dealt with, Trask returns to wait for the guard. "So are we going to stay here the night? No sense in traveling in the dark, especially not knowing where we are going." Trask asks.

"Do humans not see in de dahk?" He asks as if he actually doesn't know.

Runidia Shatterhelm wrote: ↑Wed Feb 14, 2024 8:34 pmAs the undead fall, Runidia sends up a silent prayer to the gods that she wasn't forced to have to strike at any of them. She wipes her face, is silent a moment, before turning to Rigel and Jorg. "...We should check on th' others, lad, and prep fer burial." She turns her head slightly at the sound of approaching horses, nodding at the explanation of it most likely being the guard. "Ah'll pay good coin for 'em to help now. No sense in holdin' a grudge if'n foul work was at play."

"Ja." He pipes up at the tail end of Runidia's statement, head turning to keep up, "I'm a gut enough tracker ven my nose cooperates."

Runidia Shatterhelm wrote: ↑Wed Feb 14, 2024 8:34 pmShe's got ah fire in her belly, this one. Her crew's good ta 'ave her with 'em. The dwarf nods along, and aloud replies, "Those who did this here ain't gonna get far. They done us all wrong, though it seem tha gods are on our side fer you ta be living still. Ah'll stick with ye at least until we've delivered justice.

"Jaaaa. But I shot de one dat we ver muss concerned about." He responds after a slow nod.

Granas · Post by **Granas** » Wed Feb 14, 2024 11:30 pm

Runidia wrote:"...We should check on th' others, lad, and prep fer burial." She turns her head slightly at the sound of approaching horses, nodding at the explanation of it most likely being the guard. "Ah'll pay good coin for 'em to help now. No sense in holdin' a grudge if'n foul work was at play."

"I'm sorry." Granas offers solemnly, the undead and silence falls, Granas turns to the descending Rigel and nearby Runidia. "We can check on our friends outside, then we can properly see to their burial according to their rights." Granas agrees quietly, then moving past the former priests and outside to check on his remaining friends. I hope the others made it out okay. Granas thinks, not connecting with Skye due to the proximity to the front door. He does telepathically tell Skye to land on the top of the temple and keep watch.

Granas is relieved to see everyone outside the temple relatively unharmed after the ordeal he saw from Skye's eyes. The wizard has a warm smile on his face as he approaches the others, though is lessens when he speaks. "The unfortunate souls in the temple have been returned to rest as well." Granas offers aloud, his smile fading during the news, confirming no undead in the temple and remaining otherwise quiet. He pulls out his pipe with a shaky hand and blinks as he notices the shake and puts his hand beneath his robe again, feigning a smile and simply looking towards the group and pausing. Relieved everyone is okay. Though it seems this crew thrives on fighting, and our current path will lead us down a god-faring one. And the gods are fickle if anything. Whereas, for me, that's the most face to face encounter I've ever had with undead. My magic doesn't even seem to be all that useful to most of them, I'm not the combat mage they need. Perhaps I should move on before I get more involved... go back to wandering villages and helping who I can instead of rushing to save who can't be saved... just another nobody no one cares about. Granas muses, questioning his own abilities in the heat of danger, before letting out a sigh and looking away from everyone else, the normally jovial wizard anything but. The telling from Ivy having an opposite effect on the wizard, perhaps disheartening of the trials to come. Perhaps the undead truly shook him enough to doubt himself. I'm not sure I'll be cut out for a god-bearing adventure... Granas challenges himself. Though I'll see finding Priestess Luna through to the end, at least. Granas resigns and pulls out his pipe again, the shake in his hand now gone as he goes for an Oponi hit.

Rigel wrote:"That will be the city guard," Rigel observes. "I wonder what goblin tricks kept them away so long? They'll be here in another 5 minutes."

Granas almost snorts. Can't risk appearing drugged to them. Granas decides. "What perfect bloody timing." He mutters to himself, slipping his pipe back down before looking to Rigel, Trask, Ivy and the others. "I sent a magic pigeon to alert them of trouble. I'll go greet them with Rigel and try to explain the situation, though they'll probably want to talk to everyone " Granas says and then moves away towards the guards.

When he sees Captain Tomass and the other guards, Granas offers a bow of his head. "Thank you for coming. The temple was attacked, twice. First before we came back from the city, and our own friend Ivy was nearly killed. This was when I sent the pigeon to you. Second was by a changeling necromancer who has since been killed. We don't know the source of the first attack yet." Granas states a brief summary and looks to Rigel. "All of the occupants of the temple were killed in the first attack, with one of them missing. We believe they abducted Priestess Luna." Granas adds remorsefully, looking back at Tomass as he finishes.

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Thu Feb 15, 2024 1:29 pm

Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [16] = 16
JIC: 1d20: [5] = 5 and 1d100: [20] = 20

Alwin stands, confused as muri's arrow makes its way toward him. Deflecting it, and seeing Trask deflect it again... for it to land square in Sil's bum brings a smile to his face. Some things in life can be enjoyed. Alwin walks to Ivy to check on her. Seeing Trask giving her a potion makes him wonder if he could have been wrong about the human. For a brief second anyway, no... he is faking it. He wants us to trust him. I can see through this ruse just fine.

Listening to Ivy and the others makes the elf second guess himself again, Has something changed... with their... voices? He quietly listens to them speaking. Are those new... accents? He wonders to himself, Did I get pulled into the vortex? That arrow thing was... weird. Alwin decides to ignore it, maybe... I just missed it earlier?

Turning to see the guard coming he wonders if holding Petal's head is the appropriate way to great the guard. He drops the head next to Trask and says, "We need to save that. A gift for the imposter elf king. These changelings need to see what happens to their minions."

Alwin remains in the back of the group allowing Granas to handle the meet and greet with the guards, he is better suited to talking with his kind, the elf muses. Listening to Granas he gets no sense of a new accent and is again taken by curiosity but remains silent. A magical spell?

Alwin turns to Trask while Granas talks to the guard, remembering his conversation with Ivy before the mayhem. The elf offers his hand to the human, "It seems I have made a mistake about you. It isn't easy to admit... will you accept my apology?" He looks the human mercenary in the eye trying to portray as much honesty as possible. "For now, it seems we have a common enemy... a common goal. I want to thank you for helping Ivy as well." He turns to the gnome and continues, "She has wormed her way into a hard heart, and I would not like to see he pass." Regardless of how the human perceives the apology he can sense true sincerity in the words about the gnome. Turning back to Trask he wonders, will this human truly change my mind?

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Thu Feb 15, 2024 2:20 pm

((Rolls Carried Over))

Runidia wrote:"Those who did this here ain't gonna get far. They done us all wrong, though it seem tha gods are on our side fer you ta be living still. Ah'll stick with ye at least until we've delivered justice.

Trask looks to the Dwarven woman. "Was my plan as well." Trask says, not saying that it was likely his god demanded it of him. When Mürrischer speaks up, Trask looks to the Wolfen once more.

Mürrischer wrote:"Vut... Did I say somefing?"

"You almost shot your friend, and you're worried about retrieving the arrow, that's what you said." Trask says, his voice lacks any venom, but it does seem a bit judgemental.

Mürrischer wrote:"Do humans not see in de dahk?"

Trask starts laughing. "Have you never met a human before?" Trask asks, genuinely confused by the question. "No, most humans can't." Trask finishes.

When Alwin drops the donkey's head next to him, he looks to the elf, ready to weather another battle of hautiness.

Alwin wrote:"We need to save that. A gift for the imposter elf king. These changelings need to see what happens to their minions."

Trask just makes a look of incredulity, but holds his tongue for a moment.

Alwin wrote:"It seems I have made a mistake about you. It isn't easy to admit... will you accept my apology? For now, it seems we have a common enemy... a common goal. I want to thank you for helping Ivy as well. She has wormed her way into a hard heart, and I would not like to see he pass."

Trask sighs. "Apology accepted. Let's move forward with our cooperation." Trask says.

Post by **Locknar** » Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pm

Captain Tomass Arrives.
The Temple of Astra
Date: 24 September, 345
Weather: Clear skies
Time: Sunset (5:50 pm)

Outside the Temple
Trask and Ivy work together and painfully extract the broken dagger blade from between Trask's ribs. His discomfort is brief as the priestess lays on hands, and his wounds close. As others gather there is enough time to fully restore Trask to health, though his armour remains damaged. He goes to check on Garrick, and finds the mule in good health.

Perhaps inspired, Mürrischer and Runidia desire to help Ivy with her wounds. Alas neither know what to do at this moment, perhaps if they had some supplies the knowledge would come to them. Instead Runidia offers the gnome a 'medicinal' beverage.

Granas is particularly pleased to see the dead returned to rest, and finds himself quite shaken by the ordeal. As he considers his place in all of this everyone hears the hooves of approaching horses coming from the road to Adrianna. In a moment there are at least three dozen heavily armed horsemen are thundering up to the gates. They enter, encircle the buildings with weapons drawn, wary for enemies that no longer exist.

Dust swirls around Captain Tomass' boots as he dismounts, three hooded men in grey robes mirror him and follow a half-step behind. Another dozen guards, clad in gleaming, sun-polished armor, watch their captain, weapons drawn and eyes wary for trouble. Tomass, his face etched with deep lines like battle scars, strides towards the temple, his hand clasped around the pommel of a well-worn sword.

Granas moves to meet then, and finds Rigel appearing at his side as he does so.

Granas wrote: ↑Wed Feb 14, 2024 11:30 pmWhen he sees Captain Tomass and the other guards, Granas offers a bow of his head. "Thank you for coming. The temple was attacked, twice. First before we came back from the city, and our own friend Ivy was nearly killed. This was when I sent the pigeon to you. Second was by a changeling necromancer who has since been killed. We don't know the source of the first attack yet." Granas states a brief summary and looks to Rigel. "All of the occupants of the temple were killed in the first attack, with one of them missing. We believe they abducted Priestess Luna." Granas adds remorsefully, looking back at Tomass as he finishes.

He spits in disgust. "Changeling? A necromancer changeling? Filthy tricksters."

Rigel steps forward, pushing back a stray lock of curly hair. "Indeed, we've dealt with the threat, Captain," he says in a sombre voice.

Tomass looks around the grounds. His eyes lingering on Alwin's severed mule head lying on the ground, and the bloodied clothing of Trask and Ivy. Whatever he is thinking, he decides not to voice it.

"Inside," the captain commands.

Inside the Temple
Rigel leads Tomass into the temple, the three grey hooded men follow along with the party and a number of armed guards. There are gasps of dismay as they enter and see the scene inside.

Tomass too scans the interior, his gaze lingering on the scattered debris, overturned furniture and the bodies of the dead priests. He takes in the expressions of each of our heroes in turn, and then nods.

"A good thing you lot were here then," Tomass finally rumbles. His eyes widen in recognition at the sight of Jorg and Runidia, and he nods with a look of respect.

He runs a weary hand over his face, and sits in a chair. "There was worse on the road. We found Olegs on the road. One of the men spotted a temple guard at the bottom of one cliff, poor bastard. Trackers are searching the cliffs for survivors or signs of where these scum went." He pauses a moment, and ominously adds, "Though I have good reason to believe they won't find anything."

"I was afraid of that," Rigel sighs, then he launches into a concise account of the battle. Rigel's youthful features are shadowed with grief as he recounts the tale from his own perspective.

Tomass' eyes widen when Rigel speaks of the storm and shadow portal. Tomass listens intently, his face betraying no emotion but a flicker of respect in his sharp blue eyes. When Rigel finished, Tomass turns to the grey robed men, their faces hidden deep on their hoods. One nods, and speaks in a hoarse voice. "Everything he spoke is the truth as he understand it Captain."

Captain Tomass stands and clasps Rigel's shoulder briefly, the weight of his sympathy evident in his touch. "What do you need Rigel? You want twenty men here to keep an eye on things?"

"That I would gratefully accept Captain," Rigel says, in a grateful tone. "Patrols on the road. Funeral pyres... I fear we are too few to tend to them all with proper reverence."

Tomass nods solemnly. "I'll double the patrol for a fortnight. No rest for the wicked, nor those who prey on the holy."

Rigel sighs. "There's more, Captain. A heavier burden... I haven't had a chance to discuss it, but the temple needs new leadership, someone to guide us through these ashes."

Rigel's brown eyes rest on the bloodied and battered gnome priestess Ivy. He smiles warmly.

"Lady Ivy," he says, "though you answer to a different deity, no one can doubt your courage and devotion. This temple, in its grief, needs strength and a different perspective. You are uniquely suited, more than you know. We can discuss it properly later, once the flames have died down. But in the meantime..." he turns to Tomass, "would the city recognise Lady Ivy as interim head, should she accept?"

Tomass shrugs. "City policy, lad, is non-interference in internal temple matters. But... before anything goes further I have questions, and I will have detailed answers." The many guards present in the hall straighten their stances, and you all perceive most clearly that the next moments are going to be very important.

The Captain pauses, looking towards our heroes. His eyes rest on Trask and the two scarred veterans for a moment look like brothers. "I do not recognise you. How did you come to be here and what is your part in this?" The men in grey hoods turn their eyes on him.

He then turns to Mürrischer, and the attentions of the grey men shift likewise. "You were permitted entry to the city and were good to your word and made no trouble. Tell me, where is the body of this changeling and how did it die? All I saw was a mule head at the elf's feet."

To Runidia he smiles grimly. "I like you, but I need to be sure you are who you appear. You understand. Answer this, what are the words you said to me when we first met and what happened?"

OOC Comments

To Ivy he looks concerned. "Those wounds look serious, answer well and I can help you. Did you knowingly to lead Sister Luna into an ambush on the road? Are you the same gnome I met this morning at the checkpoint? What god do you serve?"

To Granas and Alwin, Captain Tomass' tone lowers dangerously. "You two spoke warmly of 'Sir' Goram." He clicks his fingers and a soldier steps forward with a closed leather bag. No one can tell what is inside, but something most certainly is. "Tell me how long have you been associates? Are you part of a conspiracy against this temple or my city?"

Butcher's Bill
Alwin: 37/37 H.P., 40/40 S.D.C.: 40, 72/110 P.P.E.
Granas: 41/41 H.P., 22/22 S.D.C., 6/54 I.S.P., 158/245 P.P.E.
Ivy: 1/22 H.P., 0/23 S.D.C., 27/41 I.S.P. | Armor: Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC)
Mürrischer: 30/30 H.P., 9/29 S.D.C., 28/28 I.S.P.
Runidia: 28/28 H.P., 30/30 S.D.C., 12/12 P.P.E.| Armor: Dwarf Plate AR: 17; 160/160 | Shield 100/100
Tolliver: 49/49 H.P., 71/71 S.D.C., 27/44 I.S.P. | Armor: Splint Mail AR: 16; 20/82;

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:46 pm

Perception: 1d100: [75] = 75 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [17] = 17 , 1d100: [38] = 38
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive) , Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks).

Trask watches the guards arrive, squinting his good eye against the setting sun. Trask isn't overly impressed by the Captain or his entourage, not out of any case of disrespect, more of a familiarity of his type, and the many versions of it, Trask has seen over the past five decades. Trask doesn't make any fuss when the Captain all but orders the group back into the temple. Trask keeps quiet as the Captain continues his conversation, almost being surprised when he is addressed specifically.

Captain Tomass wrote:"I do not recognize you. How did you come to be here and what is your part in this?" The men in grey hoods turn their eyes on him.

"Doubt you would Captain. Tolliver Trask, retired sergeant of the Red Brigade out of Llorn. I arrived via magical means, unknown to my person. To be honest I am not exactly sure where here is even. Weather by the whim of the gods or just plain bad luck, When I arrived, I was deposited on an upper floor and got a semi-decent look at the culprits who murdered the priests here. A Prince Humperdink and a Count Rugen, along with a small pack of... Cobbler Goblins." Trask hesitates and looks to Granas. "I fought a small group of them and two managed to flee, before these folks arrived. Things didn't go off on the right foot initially, but such is the way of things when one walks into a situation like this." Trask says, reaching into his bag to pull out a small leather folio. "My papers, if you care to look." Trask says offering them to the Captain.

"As for the changeling, she was a former associate in a previous endeavour, but we had parted ways a few weeks back. The fact she was insane was unsurprising to me, but what was, was the fact she was here. A literal surprise on my part, though I'm sure my presence was of a similar case to her. A fight definitely ensued, and while I fought well, she was enhanced by her powers. That's when a portal to a dark and nightmarish location opened and began to try and suck her in. Only a sapling keeping her tethered. I did what seemed like the only decent thing to do, I severed the sapling." Trask says before looking to Ivy and Mürrischer. "The priestess took a blade that early took her life, so I used some healing items in my belongings while the Wolfen shot the Changeling once more for measure. The portal closed, and you arrived shortly thereafter." Trask says.

Trask proceeds to pull his wooden pipe from his pocket and lights it. "Anything else you need to know Captain?" Trask asks.

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Thu Feb 15, 2024 9:36 pm

Perception: 1d100: [99] = 99 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [17] = 17 ; 1d100: [19] = 19

Conditions: H.P.: 1/22, S.D.C.: 0/23, P.P.E.: 27/52 | I.S.P.: 13/41 | Spell Strength: 12 | Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC : Fire Resistant Half Damage)

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pm Rigel sighs. "There's more, Captain. A heavier burden... I haven't had a chance to discuss it, but the temple needs new leadership, someone to guide us through these ashes."

Rigel's brown eyes rest on the bloodied and battered gnome priestess Ivy. He smiles warmly.

"Lady Ivy," he says, "though you answer to a different deity, no one can doubt your courage and devotion. This temple, in its grief, needs strength and a different perspective. You are uniquely suited, more than you know. We can discuss it properly later, once the flames have died down. But in the meantime..." he turns to Tomass, "would the city recognise Lady Ivy as interim head, should she accept?"

Ivy chews on her lip, the weight of Rigel's proposition warring within her. The offer is entirely unexpected. She considers the temple, given its tragedy, and Rigel's plea for guidance amid the ashes. Strength and a different perspective. The words echo in her mind. The very notion of refusing feels wrong.

She is grateful when Captain Tomass answers before she can, for there is much to consider.

Rigel isn't a priest. Who is he, truly? Asking such a question now, under the scrutiny of Captain Tomass and the truth-sensing magicians, seems wrong. It is a private matter, one that potentially holds danger for him. I should wait, and yet I cannot answer until I know.

Captain Thomas wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pm To Ivy he looks concerned. "Those wounds look serious, answer well and I can help you. Did you knowingly to lead Sister Luna into an ambush on the road? Are you the same gnome I met this morning at the checkpoint? What god do you serve?"

Ivy lifts her head and meets the gaze of Captain Tomass with the unflinching assuredness of a holy cleric. "Leading Luna into harm? No. I wished her and her temple folk peace and a very long life. I would have died to save their lives if I could." She looks down on her hands, still covered in Trask's blood and her own. "I nearly did. Twice."

"I am the same gnome you met this morning," Ivy begins, then stops short. She shakes her head. "No, that isn't entirely true. Changeling I'm not, nor any sort of friend to those villains who caused all this death. I don't blame you for your suspicions, Silhouette had the lot of us fooled a good while before I saw through it all. Something's shifted within me, a kind of change in my spirit."

She then tells all she knows about the Vizzini, Fezzik and the swordsman who nearly killed her on the road.

"I now serve the Lady of the Skies. I called out for help and she found me nearly broken and dead at the bottom of one of those cliffs. Healed me, or raised me, I am unsure which." Her voice is steady and carries conviction. "She's… different. I truly wish I knew more."

In her mind she relives the feeling she experienced at the bottom of the cliff.

Sky wrote: ↑Tue Dec 12, 2023 9:41 pm "And so at last the ending of these days is nigh." No voice pronounces these words in Ivy's ears, and yet as she hears them her entire being feels suffused with love. Some deep instinct within her tells her this being is someone she ought to know, but that knowledge was lost many generations long ago.

Ivy gains in confidence as she speaks and her voice more assured. "The Bringer of Rain and Storms was awakened today, and the filth that did this have no idea what they've done. But they will." She then makes a promise, looking directly at the Grey Hooded Magicians who can apparently tell truth from untruth. The priestess smiles at them, and a resolute spark grows in her eyes. "I bet you saw the storms on this mountaintop as you approached. That was the changeling being sent to the dark and nightmarish location Trask spoke of. No I do not know where Luna is. But I am going to try to find her and bring her home."

She looks down and is surprised to find her hands shaking slightly. It isn't from fear, what is it? I don't feel afraid. What is it? Pain?

"Captain I would appreciate any healing your magician friends can offer so I can get started." She still looks at her bloodied shaking hands. Her eyes then snap to Runidia, "I forgot about your medicine!"

With that she stands next to the Runidia and takes the bottle of 'medicinal' liquor from her hands or belt and takes a disturbingly long drink. As she lowers the bottle, a cough escapes her lips, betraying to all the unaccustomed heat. This isn't medicine I know, but after everything that's happened today no one will blame me.

Another look at her hands. No it isn't from the pain either. She has to admit to herself. Ivy throws back a final swig of 'medicine', letting the liquid fire ignite a warmth in her belly that helped ward off the pains in her body.

As the priestess hands the bottle back to her new dwarf friend, she understands what she is feeling.

I haven't felt like this in a long while, but what has happened here is an outrage.

The priestess feels anger. Anger of the worst kind. Justified and righteous anger. Her breath shudders.

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pm To Granas and Alwin, Captain Tomass' tone lowers dangerously. "You two spoke warmly of 'Sir' Goram."

She watches as Captain Tomass shifts his attention to Alwin and Granas, his tone becoming dangerous.

"Not either of those two," Ivy interjects. Her voice is firm with a hint of slurring at the edges. "Granas is a good good person, I know it in my heart. Just watch him when he's with Skye, it's the kind of love that does not lie. I know it well."

"And Alwin," she continues, her voice warm, "is my friend. Best friend one can have, actually. Silhouette tried to…" she falters, searching for the right words, "tried to mess with his mind, make him throw me off another cliff. But he's strong, stronger than anyone I know. That's Alwin. Rock solid."

She falls silent, feeling her anger lessened in having declared her trust in her two friends being questioned.

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pm He clicks his fingers and a soldier steps forward with a closed leather bag. No one can tell what is inside, but something most certainly is. "Tell me how long have you been associates? Are you part of a conspiracy against this temple or my city?"

Ivy whispers to Runidia, "Don't tell me that's Goram's bonce in that bag!" She is clearly feeling the effects of the drink, though she does not know it. She has not eaten all day, nearly died twice and experienced more tragedy this day than she had in the last few decades. It's more than a gnome can bear.

I forgot about Goram.. how well did we know him? He couldn't.. he wouldn't...

While the remainder of the questioning happens, Ivy's steps echo hollowly on the blood-stained wooden floors as she approached the fallen. Runidia's strong drink, too strong for an empty gnomish belly, churns uneasily in her empty stomach, but that is dwarfed by the churning in her heart. Captain Tomass' questioning feel distant, lost in the buzz of grief and righteous anger.

As she reaches the dwarf Runidia fixated on, a surge of empathy shoots through her. Tears well in Ivy's eyes, blurring the scene around her. Yet, amid the grief, the spark in her ignited. And the anger. "It's not right," she says, her voice trembling. It wasn't just a lament; it was a declaration.

These senseless deaths will not be in vain.

Then she is standing over the dead. Raising her hands, she closes her eyes, drawing in the raw energy of her emotions. Runidia's brew, becomes fuel. Anger and sorrow transmuted into a burning deadly resolve.

WILL NOT.

"It's just not right. Not right." She almost chants. "Have to. Make. It. Right."

Raise the dead or some other miracle 1d100: [2] = 2

Mürrischer Reisender · Thu Feb 15, 2024 10:32 pm

Perception: 1d100: [93] = 93 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [11] = 11 / 1d100: [1] = 1

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pmGranas is particularly pleased to see the dead returned to rest, and finds himself quite shaken by the ordeal. As he considers his place in all of this everyone hears the hooves of approaching horses coming from the road to Adrianna. In a moment there are at least three dozen heavily armed horsemen are thundering up to the gates. They enter, encircle the buildings with weapons drawn, wary for enemies that no longer exist.

The arrival of the guard draws his gaze in their direction even after ensuring a certain item was in no way visible to anyone. He would question why they came weapons drawn, but they probably came on the premise of an attack. I'm pretty sure I'm behaving right now.

He looks to his left and right for any visible reason they had come. Yep. They missed everything.

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pmDust swirls around Captain Tomass' boots as he dismounts, three hooded men in grey robes mirror him and follow a half-step behind. Another dozen guards, clad in gleaming, sun-polished armor, watch their captain, weapons drawn and eyes wary for trouble. Tomass, his face etched with deep lines like battle scars, strides towards the temple, his hand clasped around the pommel of a well-worn sword.

He refrains from drawing his bow knowing they were not the ones he would want to get into a quarrel with. He watches the other three, trusting that the Captain wasn't going to look for a reason to berate him. He can't think of a reason he might. He shakes his head from the thought that the typical mistrust at the minimum had come to the Captain between then and now. Out of Wolfen habit, his nose churns to at least attempt to recognize the scents of the Captain's entourage.

Recognize Scent of Others: 1d100: [72] = 72 /32%

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pmHe then turns to Mürrischer, and the attentions of the grey men shift likewise. "You were permitted entry to the city and were good to your word and made no trouble. Tell me, where is the body of this changeling and how did it die? All I saw was a mule head at the elf's feet."

"Vell, vee vere attacked by the mule vile vee vere searching around the stable and after mein sword severed its head vee came around I shot the changling in the ass as she vas sucked into a portal." Is the answer he provides him. I hope that's enough. It's what happened.

Granas · Post by **Granas** » Sun Feb 18, 2024 5:20 pm

Perception: 1d100: [48] = 48 /46%
JiC: 1d100: [71] = 71 / 1d20: [19] = 19

Conditions: Sixth Sense [Inactive, 2ISP] | I.S.P. used: 4/54 | PPE used: 129/245 | Spell Strength: 15 | Familiar Empathetic/Telepathic Link 600ft |

Skills
Invoke Trust: 1d100: [95] = 95 /37% (On Tomass)
Lore, General Magic: 1d100: [99] = 99 /91% (ID the truthseers)

Post

Tomass wrote:"Inside,"

Granas nods, his face blank as he connects with his familiar. Before Granas gets back towards the temple, Skye swoops down, flapping several times to slow it's descent before landing on Granas' right shoulder. "What a day, huh, bud." Granas mutters aloud to Skye. Got us going inside for an interrogation instead of going after Luna. This is why I don't like getting involved... too much politicking. Granas fights a frown. So glad I escaped that life... gods, I'd be lord-in-training of that failed house by now. Granas shudders and banishes the thought from his mind. Inside, Granas is noticeably reserved at first, not comfortable in the presence of the dead that had been risen and slain. The wizard stands further away from their bodies and breathes.

Mind Mage wrote:"Everything he spoke is the truth as he understand it Captain."

Granas notices the melters with a narrowed eye. Ah, mind mages, or truthseers perhaps. Good. It will make this go quickly. Granas resigns, recognizing no one in the group has reason to lie now that Silhouette has been rightly ousted from their realm. When Rigel recommends Ivy to the position of interm Head Priestess, Granas's eyes widen and he actually smiles. She could do well here, and this place would benefit from her wisdom. Granas nods at the offering, silently hoping Ivy takes it.

Tomass wrote: "Those wounds look serious, answer well and I can help you. Did you knowingly to lead Sister Luna into an ambush on the road? Are you the same gnome I met this morning at the checkpoint? What god do you serve?"
Ivy wrote:Ivy lifts her head and meets the gaze of Captain Tomass with the unflinching assuredness of a holy cleric. "Leading Luna into harm? No. I wished her and her temple folk peace and a very long life. I would have died to save their lives if I could." She looks down on her hands, still covered in Trask's blood and her own. "I nearly did. Twice."

Granas moves over towards Ivy. "Lady Ivy, allow me to use some of my magic to heal you back up to full strength. Your arm will still need some recovery time, but please, it is your turn to receive aid." Granas states and should Ivy accept, Granas will perform Heal Wounds as many times as is required to get her to full health. Heal Wounds [Touch, 3ft away | 50 PPE for 5 uses | 3d6: [6, 2, 3] = 11 SDC and 1d6: [5] = 5 HP] | 3d6: [1, 6, 1] = 8 SDC and 1d6: [1] = 1 HP] | 3d6: [6, 4, 3] = 13 SDC and 1d6: [2] = 2 HP] | 3d6: [4, 1, 5] = 10 SDC and 1d6: [6] = 6 HP] | 3d6: [3, 4, 5] = 12 SDC and 1d6: [3] = 3 HP]

Tomass wrote:"You were permitted entry to the city and were good to your word and made no trouble. Tell me, where is the body of this changeling and how did it die? All I saw was a mule head at the elf's feet."
"You two spoke warmly of 'Sir' Goram." "Tell me how long have you been associates? Are you part of a conspiracy against this temple or my city?"

Granas is listening to the questions with a look of disapproval, the guard captain focusing on them so heavily. This is the reason no one trusts or goes too the guards. Unwilling to bear this level of scrutiny while the real perpetrator gains distance. Even I grow tired of it. Granas mulls over in his head, the traveling wizard is not a city mage and it's showing more and more as he grows impatient at the bureaucracy of the Guard. His eyes widen when he realizes Tomass is now accusing him and Alwin of being apart of some sort of conspiracy, the bureaucracy becoming audacity. What? Is all the wizard can think, Granas hardly able to process the accusation before Ivy steps in.

Ivy wrote:"Not either of those two," Ivy interjects. Her voice is firm with a hint of slurring at the edges. "Granas is a good good person, I know it in my heart. Just watch him when he's with Skye, it's the kind of love that does not lie. I know it well."

Granas pauses. "I- Thank you." Granas says to Ivy. If only I could've met these folk before they set sail from Llorn, their trust would not be so superficial. Granas resigns and looks towards the Captain. "Captain, I've not known them long, but these here I'd stake my life on. I was sent here by the Llorn Brotherhood. My credentials lie with them. Whatever Goram did he did of his own accord." Granas explains, crossing his arms beneath his cloak. "I know of no conspiracy except that the temple was attacked, it's head priest was taken and we are being questioned amid the dead instead of saving them. I sent you a message to Help Us. Not interrogate us." Granas says, his tone growing more impatient as he then winces and sighs. "Forgive me. I'm not accustomed to this." Granas vaguely admits, uncrossing his arms and folding them behind his back instead. Skye, the Osprey sitting on Granas' shoulder then shifts, visibly nuzzling Granas, the bird ducking under and resting against his chin.

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Mon Feb 19, 2024 7:12 am

Ivy wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 9:36 pm Perception: 1d100: [99] = 99 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [17] = 17 ; 1d100: [19] = 19

Tomass wrote: "Those wounds look serious, answer well and I can help you. Did you knowingly to lead Sister Luna into an ambush on the road? Are you the same gnome I met this morning at the checkpoint? What god do you serve?"
Ivy lifts her head and meets the gaze of Captain Tomass with the unflinching assuredness of a holy cleric. "Leading Luna into harm? No. I wished her and her temple folk peace and a very long life. I would have died to save their lives if I could." She looks down on her hands, still covered in Trask's blood and her own. "I nearly did. Twice."

Granas wrote: ↑Sun Feb 18, 2024 5:20 pmGranas moves over towards Ivy. "Lady Ivy, allow me to use some of my magic to heal you back up to full strength. Your arm will still need some recovery time, but please, it is your turn to receive aid." Granas states and should Ivy accept, Granas will perform Heal Wounds as many times as is required to get her to full health. Heal Wounds [Touch, 3ft away | 50 PPE for 5 uses | 3d6: [6, 2, 3] = 11 SDC and 1d6: [5] = 5 HP] | 3d6: [1, 6, 1] = 8 SDC and 1d6: [1] = 1 HP] | 3d6: [6, 4, 3] = 13 SDC and 1d6: [2] = 2 HP] | 3d6: [4, 1, 5] = 10 SDC and 1d6: [6] = 6 HP] | 3d6: [3, 4, 5] = 12 SDC and 1d6: [3] = 3 HP]

Ivy at this time is likely to be drinking Runidia's private stash (if Runidia allowed it, and didn't hide the bottle away somewhere).

If Ivy is without drink, she gratefully accepts the healing.
If Ivy is busy drinking the special dwarven medicine, and stops drinking a moment to nod acceptance, then resumes.

Tomass wrote:"You were permitted entry to the city and were good to your word and made no trouble. Tell me, where is the body of this changeling and how did it die? All I saw was a mule head at the elf's feet."
"You two spoke warmly of 'Sir' Goram." "Tell me how long have you been associates? Are you part of a conspiracy against this temple or my city?"

Granas wrote: ↑Sun Feb 18, 2024 5:20 pm Granas is listening to the questions with a look of disapproval, the guard captain focusing on them so heavily.

Ivy wrote:"Not either of those two," Ivy interjects. Her voice is firm with a hint of slurring at the edges. "Granas is a good good person, I know it in my heart. Just watch him when he's with Skye, it's the kind of love that does not lie. I know it well."

Granas wrote: ↑Sun Feb 18, 2024 5:20 pm Granas pauses. "I- Thank you." Granas says to Ivy. If only I could've met these folk before they set sail from Llorn, their trust would not be so superficial. Granas resigns and looks towards the Captain. "Captain, I've not known them long, but these here I'd stake my life on. I was sent here by the Llorn Brotherhood. My credentials lie with them. Whatever Goram did he did of his own accord." Granas explains, crossing his arms beneath his cloak. "I know of no conspiracy except that the temple was attacked, it's head priest was taken and we are being questioned amid the dead instead of saving them. I sent you a message to Help Us. Not interrogate us." Granas says, his tone growing more impatient as he then winces and sighs. "Forgive me. I'm not accustomed to this." Granas vaguely admits, uncrossing his arms and folding them behind his back instead. Skye, the Osprey sitting on Granas' shoulder then shifts, visibly nuzzling Granas, the bird ducking under and resting against his chin.

By now Ivy is feeling the effects of the drink, it is already showing in her outspoken defense of her friends. She doesn't notice herself swaying on her feet slightly as she reassures Granas and Alwin. She speaks in a tone that Tomass can also easily hear, for she has no desire to keep her thoughts secret.

"The Captain needs to be sure are aren't all dead somewhere, and the folk he's speaking to are truly changelings who switched places with us. I'd do the same in his shoes. The truth will set us free have no fear. Rigel said back at the checkpoint, Tomass is hard but fair. Just who you want as a city guard captain."

Invoke Trust/Intimidate 1d100: [96] = 96 / 95%

After this she loses focus on the words said. She walks over the to dead as previously posted, praying as written.

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Tue Feb 20, 2024 11:56 am

Perception: 37% vs 1d100: [92] = 92
JIC: 1d20: [18] = 18 and 1d100: [44] = 44

Locknar wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:19 pm To Granas and Alwin, Captain Tomass' tone lowers dangerously. "You two spoke warmly of 'Sir' Goram." He clicks his fingers and a soldier steps forward with a closed leather bag. No one can tell what is inside, but something most certainly is. "Tell me how long have you been associates? Are you part of a conspiracy against this temple or my city?"

Alwin's eyes narrow to slit as the captain questions everyone.

"Indeed! I spoke more than warmly of SIR Goram" Alwin looks around at the others that came with the captain curiously. "I met the Troll on my travels to Llorn. For such a burly and menacing creature, I found him to be, soft of heart. Almost, childlike." Alwin's head cock slightly, "Do you have a problem with my appreciation for this Troll?"

Ivy wrote: ↑Mon Feb 19, 2024 7:12 am "The Captain needs to be sure we aren't all dead somewhere, and the folk he's speaking to are truly changelings who switched places with us. I'd do the same in his shoes. The truth will set us free have no fear. Rigel said back at the checkpoint, Tomass is hard but fair. Just who you want as a city guard captain."

Alwin turns to Ivy and almost laughs, "He is worried about us being changelings... but what proof do we have that the damned cobblers didn't sack the captain and take his face along the way?" Alwin turns back to the captain and looks the man up and down, "suspicion is a two-way street. How do we know this isn't a ruse... you pretending to mistrust us, so we trust you." Alwin steps back and positions himself between the group and the captain with his hand slowly closing distance with the hilt of his knife. His eyes focus on the man and his hands. Watching to see if he prepares himself for an attack. "Your caution is understandable, but don't mistake us for fools. You look for proof we are who we say we are. We need the same. I'm sure you understand. Changelings involved and all."

Post by **Locknar** » Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Blind Faith.
The Temple of Astra
Date: 24 September, 345
Weather: Clear skies
Time: Sunset (6:00 pm)

Captain Tomass wrote:"I do not recognize you. How did you come to be here and what is your part in this?" The men in grey hoods turn their eyes on him.

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:46 pm "Doubt you would Captain. Tolliver Trask, retired sergeant of the Red Brigade out of Llorn. I arrived via magical means, unknown to my person. To be honest I am not exactly sure where here is even. Weather by the whim of the gods or just plain bad luck, When I arrived, I was deposited on an upper floor and got a semi-decent look at the culprits who murdered the priests here. A Prince Humperdink and a Count Rugen, along with a small pack of... Cobbler Goblins." Trask hesitates and looks to Granas. "I fought a small group of them and two managed to flee, before these folks arrived. Things didn't go off on the right foot initially, but such is the way of things when one walks into a situation like this." Trask says, reaching into his bag to pull out a small leather folio. "My papers, if you care to look." Trask says offering them to the Captain.

Captain Tomass' gaze narrows slightly at Trask's response. The mention of a magical arrival and unfamiliar location raises eyebrows among the guards. However, Trask's confident demeanor and military background hold a certain weight. Enough at least, to look over the offered papers.

"Tolliver Trask," Tomass says, taking the offered folio with a curt nod. He skims the papers quickly, presumably searching for discrepancies or forged seals. Meanwhile, the grey men remain motionless, their expressions unreadable.

"Red Brigade, huh?" Tomass continues, his tone neutral. "Heard good things. Retired, you say, but still capable enough to jump into a temple brawl. Interesting." He gestures to the wrecked temple hall. "And you claim these… 'Prince Humperdink' and 'Count Rugen' are behind this? What of the other?"

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 5:46 pm "As for the changeling, she was a former associate in a previous endeavour, but we had parted ways a few weeks back. The fact she was insane was unsurprising to me, but what was, was the fact she was here. A literal surprise on my part, though I'm sure my presence was of a similar case to her. A fight definitely ensued, and while I fought well, she was enhanced by her powers. That's when a portal to a dark and nightmarish location opened and began to try and suck her in. Only a sapling keeping her tethered. I did what seemed like the only decent thing to do, I severed the sapling." Trask says before looking to Ivy and Mürrischer. "The priestess took a blade that early took her life, so I used some healing items in my belongings while the Wolfen shot the Changeling once more for measure. The portal closed, and you arrived shortly thereafter." Trask says.

Trask proceeds to pull his wooden pipe from his pocket and lights it. "Anything else you need to know Captain?" Trask asks.

Captain Tomass studies Trask intently, his expression unreadable. He flips through the papers again, then returns them with a sigh. There my still be skepticism in his eyes, but it's tinged with a flicker of respect.

"Former associate, eh?" Tomass says, his voice low and thoughtful. "Changeling sucked into a portal to a nightmare realm… that's quite a story, veteran. And convenient, considering the lack of… evidence. But," Tomass' tone shifts slightly, "your papers seem legitimate, and my three friends here haven't raised any alarms. So, for now, I'm inclined to believe you." The atmosphere remains tense, but a thread of trust has been established, albeit fragile.

As Trask pulls out his pipe and lights it, Tomass observes him with a hint of curiosity before turning his attention to Mürrischer.

Mürrischer Reisender wrote: ↑Thu Feb 15, 2024 10:32 pm"Vell, vee vere attacked by the mule vile vee vere searching around the stable and after mein sword severed its head vee came around I shot the changling in the ass as she vas sucked into a portal." Is the answer he provides him. I hope that's enough. It's what happened.

Captain Tomass' echoes through the temple, bouncing off the cracked stone and unsettling the tension slightly. Several of his guards join in. After a moment, he wipes a tear from his eye. Amusement lingers in his gaze.

"Shot in the ass, by a wolfman, at the very moment she's being sucked into a nightmarish portal? I must say," he says, addressing Mürrischer directly, "that's about the most outlandish and entertaining story I've heard all week. And thanks to our esteemed truth-sniffers," he gestures to the grey figures, "I have to believe it. That is good, you seem a decent wolfen, I hate to kill you."

He then asks Runidia his question. He clearly knows her, and the dwarf nods. After a moment's thought, she looks sideways at the others before approaching the Tomass and whispering unheard words into his ear. He smiles, and grasps her shoulder warmly in greeting. "I am so glad you are who you seem."

"Keep it under yer bonnet!" Runidia growls and she points a stubby finger in warning.

Tomass raises his hand solemnly. "I swear it."

Ivy hasn't given Rigel an answer to his offer, being focused more on Tomass' questions; that she may have led Luna into an ambush, and she might not be the real Ivy.

Ivy remains , at first, and tells the guards of the villains Vizzini, Fezzik and the swordsman who nearly killed her on the road to the temple. Then speaks defiantly at the grey men and launches into an anger laced vow to set things right. It has clearly been a bad day for the poor gnome.

Tomass nods impassively in the face of the determination in her eyes, could it be a nod of understanding? As Ivy helps help herself to Runidia's bottle, the dwarf looks surprised but offers no resistance. As Granas hurries to her side with healing (+17 H.P. + S.D.C. fully restored) Tomass speaks, "Wounds like those, both physical and spiritual, need tending to. Rest and recover, gnome. We'll discuss finding Luna later. I believe you."

Then the Captain turns his attention to the wizard and assassin. "You two spoke warmly of 'Sir' Goram." He clicks his fingers and a soldier steps forward with a closed leather bag. No one can tell what is inside, but something most certainly is. "Tell me how long have you been associates? Are you part of a conspiracy against this temple or my city?"

Alwin's eyes narrow to slits.

Ivy, her empty belly and life of relative sobriety conspiring against her, feels the effects of the dwarven 'medicine'. Rapidly deteriorating, she tries to help.

Ivy wrote:"Not eithEr of thoshe two," Ivy interjects. Her voice is firm with a hint of slurring at the edges. "GgranaS ish a goOd good peRss---hon, I know it IN my heaRt. Juss--ht watcc--h him wH---en he'sh with Skye, it's thh---e kind of love that doesh not lie. I know it We---ll!"

"And AlWin," she continues, her voice warm, and trying in vain to maintain a steady voice, "Is mY friend. Best Fr--ienn---d oNe c---an haa---ve, actually. Shi--lhouette tried to …" she falters, searching for the right words, and shake her head clear, "tried to mess with his mi---nd, make him tHrow me off another cliff. But he's stroNg, stronger than aa--nyy--one I know. That's Alwin. Rock solId."

Granas is grateful for Ivy's testimony, while Alwin has a different reaction.

Alwin wrote: ↑Tue Feb 20, 2024 11:56 am Alwin turns to Ivy and almost laughs, "He is worried about us being changelings... but what proof do we have that the damned cobblers didn't sack the captain and take his face along the way?" Alwin turns back to the captain and looks the man up and down, "suspicion is a two-way street. How do we know this isn't a ruse... you pretending to mistrust us, so we trust you." Alwin steps back and positions himself between the group and the captain with his hand slowly closing distance with the hilt of his knife. His eyes focus on the man and his hands. Watching to see if he prepares himself for an attack. "Your caution is understandable, but don't mistake us for fools. You look for proof we are who we say we are. We need the same. I'm sure you understand. Changelings involved and all."

Tomass' anger simmers, his gaze burning into Alwin's defiant stance. His voice, though restrained, carries a dangerous edge.

"Three dozen guards can vouch for me," he smiles bleakly, his eyes narrowing. "And you, an elf with a blade, question my identity? You misunderstand your position." He slams the leather bag with his fist, its contents thudding ominously.

Tomass continues, his voice gaining volume. "You want to know Goram's secret?" Tomass throws open the bag, revealing a bloodied troll hand, severed at the wrist. "Your childlike troll tried to murder my men! That 'soft-hearted' creature was a pawn, not a hero!" He points at the grey hooded men. "What they tell me is this. His true nature was masked in layer of delusion."

One of the grey men steps forward on silent feet, and speaks for the first time, "I can see you are all surprised by this calamity. And are therefore innocent." He pauses briefly to allow the words to he understood by all, then continues, "Know this, your Goram truly believed he was a knight, it was the only way to fool those ones like ourselves. This Silhouette, who you say was banished, was not the only traitor among you. Whomever desecrated this place likewise infiltrated your group. We know now those of you who remain are unlikely to be among them."

"As Tomass' men ascended the road to come by here, a spellcaster sent a pigeon." He nods at Granas. "Not yours, but a second one that arrived a short while afterward. It flew right to the trolls ears, and then he went berserk. There are ways such triggers can be planted in a mind, assassins can be made to seem quite innocent, and they not even know themselves who they truly are." The grey hooded leader then nods to Tomass, and steps back to rejoin his two fellows.

One of the three grey men, behind the speaker, stares unblinkingly at Alwin but says nothing.

Meanwhile Tomass' gaze flickers to Granas, and sighs. "Yes you, wizard, vouched for a walking weapon. None of you knew. We know that now."

Tomass steps closer to Alwin, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You, my friend," he points a finger at Alwin, "tread a dangerous line. Choose your next words carefully, for they may be your last." Would drawing a dagger be defiance or suicide? The tension in the air hangs heavy.

And then, a hush falls over the scene. Ivy, unnoticed, has wandered towards the fallen priests, her small form dwarfed by their stillness.

She speaks, her voice barely a whisper, yet carrying an intensity that silences the guards' ragged breaths and makes Tomass turn his head.

"It's not right," she says, each word heavy with grief and simmering with a strange, unfamiliar anger. As the last syllable fades, a shift settles over Ivy. Her eyes are closed, face turned skyward, and she seems to draw in the raw energy of the moment. The hard liquor, the anger, the sorrow for the fallen priests, the fear that had gnawed at her since the fight – it all coalesces, forming a burning core within her.

She is suddenly and totally sober in an instant, as if gods have veil has been lifted form her eyes in more ways than one.

"It's just not right. Not right," she repeats, the words becoming a chant, a mantra fueling her resolve. "Have to. Make. It. Right." With each repetition, her voice gains strength, an otherworldly power resonates within the temple walls.

Rigel gasps in astonishment, "The gods have heard of this!"

The air crackles, charged with an unseen force. The air smells of a thunderstorm.

You all feel a prickle of unease crawl down your spines. Tomass, seeing the shift, tightens a hand instinctively on his sword hilt. The guards mutter amongst themselves, their gazes flitting between the small priestess and the ominous energy swirling around the hall.

Tomass, his voice rough yet filled with awe, finally speaks. "What… what in the name of the gods is happening?"

A that's what.

The spirits of the fallen priests materialize, six wispy figures shimmering with an ethereal light. Tomass' face, usually etched with stoicism, contorts in a mixture of fear and fascination, his previous anger forgotten. Among the guards, some freeze in place, their faces pale with terror. Others mutter prayers under their breath, their weapons trembling in their hands. A few, more battle-hardened, adopt defensive stances, scanning the room for any visible threat.

The spirits pay them no heed, for they gather around Ivy, their voices echoing in sorrowful verse.

Beneath cold steel and grief's heavy shroud,
Souls of murdered priests, silent and proud,
Ivy, hand outstretched in plea,
Prays for life, to set spirits free.

Sky, with eyes of endless blue,
Sees the wrong, hears cries anew.
"They shall rise, their breath return,
Injustice met, flames shall burn."

But Utu, Lord of shades below,
His halls prepared, a somber show.
"Feast tables set, seats long claimed,
Death's embrace cannot be shamed."

Then Locknar, trickster, steps ahead,
A grin that dances, words unsaid.
"Both paths you tread, a choice to make,
For justice' hearts, and spirits' sake."

"Fill the halls, yet fill them right,
Let changelings face eternal night.
Their twisted lives, the price they pay,
For stolen breaths, on this dark day."

Sky and Utu, whispers blend,
Agreement found, their power lends.
"At midnight's stroke, the veil unwinds,
Fate's balance held, where darkness binds."

Heed, gnome priestess, gaze alight,
Vengeance sought bears burdens tight.
Utu, Sky, and Locknar stand,
Siblings three, of magic planned.

Changeling's keep, forever shifting,
Whispers speak, its secrets sifting.
None find its form, save those who pay,
A bargain struck, on this dark day.

Choose wisely, Ivy, heart alight,
For victory's path is fraught this night.
Fall you may, and join the throng,
Or rise anew, where anthems song.

The way unfolds, where shadows creep,
To changeling halls, where secrets sleep.
Remember, priestess, choice is yours,
In ancient gods, and whispered wars.

As the echoes of the spirits fade and the air settles, a sly voice whispers into the room. All in the room hear it; the unmistakable rasp of Locknar. "At midnight, be ready. From this room, you will step into the secret realm of the Changelings to do battle. You will have your chance to set it right. Know that you are favored beyond all your kin, but do not call upon us again until this matter is resolved."

Tomass' gaze flickers to the heroes and then back to Ivy. He is silent a long moment, then makes a decision. "You will not face this alone. I may not follow your gods, but I believe in justice, and in protecting the innocent. What do you need of me?"

There are 6 hours remaining until midnight.

WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS?

Butcher's Bill
Alwin: 37/37 H.P., 40/40 S.D.C.: 40, 72/110 P.P.E.
Granas: 41/41 H.P., 22/22 S.D.C., 6/54 I.S.P., 158/245 P.P.E.
Ivy: 18/22 H.P., 23/23 S.D.C., 27/41 I.S.P. | Armor: Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC)
Mürrischer: 30/30 H.P., 9/29 S.D.C., 28/28 I.S.P.
Runidia: 28/28 H.P., 30/30 S.D.C., 12/12 P.P.E.| Armor: Dwarf Plate AR: 17; 160/160 | Shield 100/100
Tolliver: 49/49 H.P., 71/71 S.D.C., 27/44 I.S.P. | Armor: Splint Mail AR: 16; 20/82;

Ivy · Post by **Ivy** » Sun Feb 25, 2024 11:39 am

Perception: 1d100: [17] = 17 /38%
Just in Case: 1d20: [7] = 7 ; 1d100: [62] = 62

Conditions: H.P.: 18/22, S.D.C.: 23/23, P.P.E.: 27/52 | I.S.P.: 13/41 | Spell Strength: 12 | Cloak of Protection (AR 14 : 33/150 SDC : Fire Resistant Half Damage)

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm The spirits pay them no heed, for they gather around Ivy, their voices echoing in sorrowful verse.

Beneath cold steel and grief's heavy shroud,
Souls of murdered priests, silent and proud,
Ivy, hand outstretched in plea,
Prays for life, to set spirits free.

Sky, with eyes of endless blue,
Sees the wrong, hears cries anew.
"They shall rise, their breath return,
Injustice met, flames shall burn."

But Utu, Lord of shades below,
His halls prepared, a somber show.
"Feast tables set, seats long claimed,
Death's embrace cannot be shamed."

Then Locknar, trickster, steps ahead,
A grin that dances, words unsaid.
"Both paths you tread, a choice to make,
For justice' hearts, and spirits' sake."

"Fill the halls, yet fill them right,
Let changelings face eternal night.
Their twisted lives, the price they pay,
For stolen breaths, on this dark day."

Sky and Utu, whispers blend,
Agreement found, their power lends.
"At midnight's stroke, the veil unwinds,
Fate's balance held, where darkness binds."

Heed, gnome priestess, gaze alight,
Vengeance sought bears burdens tight.
Utu, Sky, and Locknar stand,
Siblings three, of magic planned.

Changeling's keep, forever shifting,
Whispers speak, its secrets sifting.
None find its form, save those who pay,
A bargain struck, on this dark day.

Choose wisely, Ivy, heart alight,
For victory's path is fraught this night.
Fall you may, and join the throng,
Or rise anew, where anthems song.

The way unfolds, where shadows creep,
To changeling halls, where secrets sleep.
Remember, priestess, choice is yours,
In ancient gods, and whispered wars.

The revelation strikes Ivy like a bolt of lightning, shattering her initial understanding of the divine. Three gods, siblings no less, had intertwined their wills in this macabre play. Sky, her newfound deity, clashed with Utu, the stern god of the dead, while Locknar, the trickster, brokered a twisted compromise. It is his temple after all, and his priests.

Yet this defied everything she'd ever learned. The scriptures held no mention of such a celestial family, and the very concept of deities from different pantheons being related seemed absurd. Sky had spoken of being 'from old times,' and Locknar belonged to the northern pantheon, further muddying the waters. Could their origins predate recorded history, their connection stretching back to a forgotten age?

The verse the dead sang echoes in her mind. Heed, gnome priestess, gaze alight, Vengeance sought bears burdens tight. Utu, Sky, and Locknar stand, Siblings three, of magic planned.

Tomass' voice, muffled and distant, pierces her introspective fog. He is asking something, seeking direction. With a reluctant sigh, Ivy tears herself away from the swirling vortex of thoughts and faces the others.

The weight of responsibility settles upon her like a leaden cloak. They had stumbled into a larger celestial game, something the changelings are up to might weave larger destruction someday, thus making this action warranted.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and offered a heartfelt prayer. "Thank you for this chance," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "We did not ask for this fight, but we will not shy away from it. We will take all who are willing and face this darkness head-on."

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm As the echoes of the spirits fade and the air settles, a sly voice whispers into the room. All in the room hear it; the unmistakable rasp of Locknar. "At midnight, be ready. From this room, you will step into the secret realm of the Changelings to do battle. You will have your chance to set it right. Know that you are favored beyond all your kin, but do not call upon us again until this matter is resolved."

As she opens her eyes, a steely resolve glints within them. Locknar's chilling warning echoes in her mind – no further divine intervention until the matter was resolved. And his cryptic words about being 'favored above all her kin' offers a sliver of hope, a hint of a future yet to be explored.

"We have little time to waste," she declares, her voice ringing with a newfound confidence. "The gods may be watching, but they will not be aiding us further."

"Who is willing?"

She looks at her wounds, and finds them almost completely healed. Granas is a great healer indeed. She looks up at the wizard and gives a smile of gratitude. While she listens to the others, she tests her broken arm tentatively, hoping it is now ready for a fight.

Tolliver Trask · Post by **Tolliver Trask** » Sun Feb 25, 2024 5:30 pm

Perception: 1d100: [33] = 33 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [14] = 14 , 1d100: [83] = 83
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive) , Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks).

Trask nods at the Captain's words, takes his papers and places them back in the dimensional bag on his hip. Pipe lit, Trask watches the conversation between the Captain and Mürrischer, only shaking his head at the Wolfen's version of the story. I guess it doesn't really matter, Alwin should be the one who is upset at him. Trask thinks. The exchange between Runidia and the Captain, causes Trask's eyebrow to raise. Wonder what that is all about? Trask thinks before turning his attention to Ivy's exchange. Trask slowly puffs away at his pipe, the gnomish blend curling up around his face.

Trask watches the exchange between Granas, Alwin, and the Captain. Trask listens to the story of what happened to this unknown Goram. Sounds like something Silhouette would do. Good riddance. Trask thinks. Trask is almost amused when Alwin first irritates, then outright anger the captain of the guard. Boy needs to learn temperance. He's too quick to fight everyone. Trask thinks as he watches the scene unfold. Trask makes no moves to defend or even look like he's planning to do anything other than watch.

Ivy's drunken protestation gets Trask's attention. Can't hold her liquor it seems. The sudden surge of power and subsequent arrival of the spirits definitely gets Trask's attention. Utu's grace... Trask thinks as the spectral chorus goes on. Well I guess I am now certain I should be here. The final words of Locknar are not lost on the old mercenary. Well there is the time frame then. Trask thinks.

Captain Tomass wrote:"You will not face this alone. I may not follow your gods, but I believe in justice, and in protecting the innocent. What do you need of me?"

The Captain's declaration brings a smirk to Trask's face. In the face of the true divine, men often quickly change their mine. Trask muses.

Ivy wrote:"We have little time to waste, The gods may be watching, but they will not be aiding us further."

"Who is willing?"

Trask chuckles. Like I really have a choice. Trask thinks before speaking up. "Aye, I'll join you lot." Trask says, before tamping out his pipe. "Captain Tomass, you wouldn't happen to have a spare suit of heavy armor I could borrow for the challenge?" Trask asks the Captain.

Trask looks to the others. "I don't know about you lot, but I am starving, so I'm gonna make some dinner for us." Trask says before he makes his way back outside to his faithful mule Garrick. Once outside, Trask looks to his friend. "Let's get the pack saddles off, looks like we're gonna be here for a bit pal. Try not to wander off okay." Trask says as he starts the process of unloading his mule of the burdens it carries. Trask brings each case and bag inside setting them out of the way.

Once unloaded, Trask grabs things from his personal stores and heads into the kitchen to make some dinner for the group.

Cook MGP Crit!/65% (Cook dumplings for the crew.)

Granas · Post by **Granas** » Mon Feb 26, 2024 10:09 am

Alwin wrote:
Ivy wrote:"The Captain needs to be sure are aren't all dead somewhere, and the folk he's speaking to are truly changelings who switched places with us. I'd do the same in his shoes. The truth will set us free have no fear. Rigel said back at the checkpoint, Tomass is hard but fair. Just who you want as a city guard captain."
"He is worried about us being changelings... but what proof do we have that the damned cobblers didn't sack the captain and take his face along the way?" ... "suspicion is a two-way street. How do we know this isn't a ruse... you pretending to mistrust us, so we trust you." "Your caution is understandable, but don't mistake us for fools. You look for proof we are who we say we are. We need the same. I'm sure you understand. Changelings involved and all.""

Granas resigns and nods. "Fair." Granas replies simply to Ivy. The good captain could use some tact, though. He adds in his mind, obviously frustrated and temporarily forgetting about the mind-readers that may be listening in. Towards Alwin's reply, Granas has to fight the urge to hide his face beneath his hood. Eesh, too strong. Well, the grey robbed truthseers are a pretty telling clue. Granas thinks, now remembering their presence and hoping Alwin didn't accidentally spur some strong-arm reaction from the Guards. Though what actually happens is something far stranger.

The revelation of Goram's actions, and the Guard Captain Tomass' displeasure towards Alwin, prompt Granas to step back with one foot and bring his hands to his front. Oh gods, this is what I was hoping to avoid. Granas thinks, holding his hands in a passive way. "I sent no such pigeon to Goram. I sent exactly one after finding the bodies, to you." Granas states unequivocally. "You have my most sincere condolences, Captain." Granas adds. Please don't draw your blade, Alwin. Granas mentally pleads without telepathically saying.

Tomass wrote:
Rigel wrote:"The gods have heard of this!"
"What… what in the name of the gods is happening?"

Granas' eye is drawn by Ivy's prayer as it's deific whirlwind takes over the chamber of the temple. Granas finds himself smiling softly, simply gazing in awe as the gods indeed appear to have answered their little friend. Bastilla always said the gods were fickle things, untrustworthy and monsters in their own rights. I suppose she's never bore witness to such an event. Granas things to himself. "Proof." Granas answers them both quietly. Even I doubted true deific intervention. I still cannot fathom what the gods seek to gain by intervening at this temple, and I'm terrified of the debt we now owe, though I cannot deny the eye upon us. Granas thinks, the teachings of his master still etched into his mind.

Ivy wrote:
Tomass wrote:
Locknar wrote: "At midnight, be ready. From this room, you will step into the secret realm of the Changelings to do battle. You will have your chance to set it right. Know that you are favored beyond all your kin, but do not call upon us again until this matter is resolved."
"You will not face this alone. I may not follow your gods, but I believe in justice, and in protecting the innocent. What do you need of me?"
"Thank you for this chance," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "We did not ask for this fight, but we will not shy away from it. We will take all who are willing and face this darkness head-on."

Granas sighs and closes his eyes, shaking his head slightly. There's the hammer. We are to go to battle in another world as what, some sort of deific champions to set things right. They have the power to set things right, why send us on such a quest. To test the character of mortals, they say. Bastilla would think it more simple, entertainment for the gods, pawns being moved. I'm afraid to find out which is true. Granas finds himself thinking, the orphaned wizard having no faith in the deific, only in magic. The immediate rising of the spirits followed by the command to hunt the changeling down in another dimension sours the wizard, though he does his best not to show it. Granas appears to be deep in thought.

Ivy wrote:"Who is willing?"

Granas nods and agrees with Ivy. "Aye, I am. My magic is here to serve." Granas agrees, bowing his head lightly to Ivy then the others with a smile. I will do what I can to see too it everyone makes it home alive. A cause Elena would be proud of. Granas thinks, briefly recalling the sister he hasn't seen in a near a decade. Granas will then move to help Trask unload his mule and food, nodding at the offer of food. "A hearty meal before such a venture would be nice, thank you. I can prepare some good tea and crackers as well, for those interested." Granas offers. Granas will cast "Create Crackers and Tea" [-15 PPE] to bring some warm tea and a pile of crackers to eat with the dumplings.

Once sitting at dinner, Granas reaches for his small satchel hidden beneath his robes and looks towards Ivy while everyone is eating. "With all the commotion, I nearly forgot to give you your share of the payment we received. Small considering the circumstances, but you should have what's yours." Granas says, then pulling out a handful of diamonds from his bag to hand to Ivy. [Granas will give Ivy five 5K diamonds, and one 1K diamond for a total of 26K]

Once dumplings, crackers and tea has been served, Granas looks to the guards now likely surrounding Ivy, the others in their party and how they might be reacting to the new discoveries. Granas has time to muse. Goram going berserk. Ivy connecting to the gods and being answered. A quest in another realm... and I'm but a simple mage. Granas thinks to himself, doubting his involvement still. Granas finds himself unable to eat much and shakes his head lightly, then standing. "Excuse me, I would like some air." Granas says quietly to no one in specific and makes towards the upper levels he traveled before. I remember a balcony or terrace on the upper levels. Granas thinks to himself, attempting to recall the path and not going into any side rooms. He doesn't go fast enough he can't be followed and Skye flies down from the rafters above and follows, landing on Granas' shoulder as he reaches the stairs.

If Granas can find an open, public looking balcony area that observes the sunset, he will sit and gaze at the horizon. No matter what, Granas will return to the main chamber by 11pm.

Alwin · Post by **Alwin** » Mon Feb 26, 2024 11:29 am

Perception: 1d100: [78] = 78 /37%.
Just in Case: 1d20: [17] = 17 ; 1d100: [30] = 30
Conditions: N/A

Skills:

Post:

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm "Know this, your Goram truly believed he was a knight..." "... a spellcaster sent a pigeon... then he went berserk. " "... a walking weapon."

Tomass steps closer to Alwin, his voice dropping to a low growl. "You, my friend," he points a finger at Alwin, "tread a dangerous line. Choose your next words carefully, for they may be your last."

The words seem to come to Alwin in short bursts as understanding still eludes his mind regardless of how clear the captain explains what happened. No! Alwin finds the tase of the words to be false. Looking at the three men and the captain in rapid succession he knows them to be true. He was no assassin. It had to be her! Them! His shoulders drop. Defeat evident in the look of his eyes. She has been one step ahead this whole time. When did she get to Sir Goram? Alwin turns to look at where the portal was wishing he still had time, She need to pay! This end was too kind. The elf's eyes seem to fill with water as he holds the emotion back. His friend... I have no friends. this is what father taught me! I need no friends.

The elf works hard to replace the sadness with anger. A comforting and well-known emotion. His anger has never served to hurt him as much as those useless, human, emotions. Love. Kindness. They are for the week minded.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm And then, a hush falls over the scene. Ivy, unnoticed, has wandered towards the fallen priests, her small form dwarfed by their stillness.

She speaks, her voice barely a whisper, yet carrying an intensity that silences the guards' ragged breaths and makes Tomass turn his head.

"It's not right..."

As the echoes of the spirits fade and the air settles, a sly voice whispers into the room. All in the room hear it; the unmistakable rasp of Locknar. "At midnight, be ready. From this room, you will step into the secret realm of the Changelings to do battle. You will have your chance to set it right. Know that you are favored beyond all your kin, but do not call upon us again until this matter is resolved."

Tomass' gaze flickers to the heroes and then back to Ivy. He is silent a long moment, then makes a decision. "You will not face this alone. I may not follow your gods, but I believe in justice, and in protecting the innocent. What do you need of me?"

The power of the gods washes over Alwin as his eyes lock on Ivy. The anger seems to dissipate slightly. Not completely as he still knows... remembers. One cannot forget such treachery. Such evil intent. Even the hardest of hearts cannot forgive such an offense.

The whole time his eyes stay locked on Ivy, she is... so close to the gods...

Tolliver Trask wrote: ↑Sun Feb 25, 2024 5:30 pm"Aye, I'll join you lot."

Granas wrote: ↑Mon Feb 26, 2024 10:09 am Granas nods and agrees with Ivy. "Aye, I am. My magic is here to serve."

Alwin's chest presses out, his head rises, and a sense of resolve shows on the elf, "They MUST pay!" The elf pauses looking toward the Captain, "They will pay for making Sir Goram be what he never wished to be." He turns and looks toward Ivy, "They will pay for mistaking innocence for weakness." Alwin turns to look at Granas continuing, "They will pay for forcing kindness and caring to harden into fighting spirit."

Alwin looks to Runida and Jorge, "They will pay for taking those near and dear to us, from us." Alwin's eyes settle on Trask, "I have a feeling you are a tool of the gods sir! I have a feeling you were sent here to exact their revenge on these foul creatures. To correct this wrong that has plagued our lands." Alwin nods to the warrior human, "You will all have my bow at your disposal to accomplish this task!"

While the others retire to the meal Alwin walks around first gathers Petal's head. This will make a suitable present for the faux Prince when we see him. He searches through the remaining items left on the grounds finding the sword Sil dropped and picking it up. I will use her sword to take this prince's head. I will then mount Petal's head to his dead body so everyone can see the truth of what an ass he is.

Alwin then makes his way to group to share in the meal when Trask is done cooking. "Trask. Thank you for the meal!"

Mürrischer Reisender · Mon Feb 26, 2024 2:32 pm

Perception: 1d100: [55] = 55 /43%
JIC: 1d20: [9] = 9 / 1d100: [97] = 97

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm"Shot in the ass, by a wolfman, at the very moment she's being sucked into a nightmarish portal? I must say," he says, addressing Mürrischer directly, "that's about the most outlandish and entertaining story I've heard all week. And thanks to our esteemed truth-sniffers," he gestures to the grey figures, "I have to believe it. That is good, you seem a decent wolfen, I hate to kill you."

"At least ahm one Wolfen making my kin look gut." He responds after a brief smirk.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pmAnd then, a hush falls over the scene. Ivy, unnoticed, has wandered towards the fallen priests, her small form dwarfed by their stillness.

She speaks, her voice barely a whisper, yet carrying an intensity that silences the guards' ragged breaths and makes Tomass turn his head.

"It's not right," she says, each word heavy with grief and simmering with a strange, unfamiliar anger. As the last syllable fades, a shift settles over Ivy. Her eyes are closed, face turned skyward, and she seems to draw in the raw energy of the moment. The hard liquor, the anger, the sorrow for the fallen priests, the fear that had gnawed at her since the fight – it all coalesces, forming a burning core within her.

"Ivy vhat'er you doing? His head turns in her direction as he hears alcohol speak for the Gnome.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm She is suddenly and totally sober in an instant, as if gods have veil has been lifted form her eyes in more ways than one.

"It's just not right. Not right," she repeats, the words becoming a chant, a mantra fueling her resolve. "Have to. Make. It. Right." With each repetition, her voice gains strength, an otherworldly power resonates within the temple walls.

"Ivy. Nein." He is not fast enough to intervene if he tried as the air is filled with something else entirely.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm
Beneath cold steel and grief's heavy shroud,
Souls of murdered priests, silent and proud,
Ivy, hand outstretched in plea,
Prays for life, to set spirits free.

He's stopped and keeps in silence, trying to get a grip on what he hears. What?

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Sky, with eyes of endless blue,
Sees the wrong, hears cries anew.
"They shall rise, their breath return,
Injustice met, flames shall burn."

It's to late in the day for that. Who're talking about?

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

But Utu, Lord of shades below,
His halls prepared, a somber show.
"Feast tables set, seats long claimed,
Death's embrace cannot be shamed."

What? Poisoned food? When? Tonight?

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Then Locknar, trickster, steps ahead,
A grin that dances, words unsaid.
"Both paths you tread, a choice to make,
For justice' hearts, and spirits' sake."

Who? Does he not talk much? Doubt it's necessarily me.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

"Fill the halls, yet fill them right,
Let changelings face eternal night.
Their twisted lives, the price they pay,
For stolen breaths, on this dark day."

He looks around as he listens, getting an idea how much room the temple has for others. I think keeping changlings out shouldn't be too much hassle once we know who they are.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Sky and Utu, whispers blend,
Agreement found, their power lends.
"At midnight's stroke, the veil unwinds,
Fate's balance held, where darkness binds."

What? Don't leave until midnight? I kind of specific. It's a terrible idea to venture out at night.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Heed, gnome priestess, gaze alight,
Vengeance sought bears burdens tight.
Utu, Sky, and Locknar stand,
Siblings three, of magic planned.

Keep an eye on the Gnome? That can't be too hard.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Changeling's keep, forever shifting,
Whispers speak, its secrets sifting.
None find its form, save those who pay,
A bargain struck, on this dark day.

I don't like the sound of that. He looks around again, still not giving a hint to what could be going through his head.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

Choose wisely, Ivy, heart alight,
For victory's path is fraught this night.
Fall you may, and join the throng,
Or rise anew, where anthems song.

I already know she can't take a third. I don't need a reminder.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm

The way unfolds, where shadows creep,
To changeling halls, where secrets sleep.
Remember, priestess, choice is yours,
In ancient gods, and whispered wars.

His tongue begins to roll in Wolfen as he ponders what verse he heard that he can remember in a mumble. He's sure he has the scent of everyone present and can only hope he has them right.

Locknar wrote: ↑Fri Feb 23, 2024 2:11 pm As the echoes of the spirits fade and the air settles, a sly voice whispers into the room. All in the room hear it; the unmistakable rasp of Locknar. "At midnight, be ready. From this room, you will step into the secret realm of the Changelings to do battle. You will have your chance to set it right. Know that you are favored beyond all your kin, but do not call upon us again until this matter is resolved."

"Something here is not vhat we fink. He finally speaks after his long silence, looking around with no clear idea what he could be looking for. I learned a while ago my psionics won't help find a changling.

It take a long moment's thought before he decides to do much of anything other that consider whose scents he already has and that he has not ventured through the temple at all really. He makes his way to the kitchen, almost ready to be jumped as he tries to find any unfamiliar scents through the smell of goblins. Damnable creatures.

Not knowing exactly what caught his attention from what he heard, he can only hope who or whatever it is easy to find of just as simply comes out even a little bit. All he needs is just enough to get his attention. Where is it...?

Who is it...? He eliminates hiding place simply based on the damage he sees. He disturbs nothing not knowing anything about what he is looking for.

Recognise Scent of others: 1d100: [49] = 49 /32% Pick out unfamiliar scents.
Detect Ambush: 1d100: [94] = 94 /55% To catch anyone that may be trying to hide
Carpentry: 1d100: [97] = 97 /35% To Identify inconsistencies with the wood

While anything he may have to have to say is heavy handed in Wolfen tongue makes no sense as he doesn't know the exact what he is looking for, he seems distracted enough by it to seem as a pent up hound already.