Dark times have befallen the kingdom, especially the province of Draheighl. It has been 500 years since the calamnity that darkened the skies, brought choaking fog to the marshes, and sunk most of the people into despair. Outside the towns, it is unsafe to go out after dark. Even in the cities, there is an unwholesomeness. It is a dreary, lonely existence. Creatures once feared are now regarded as people, even sometimes heroes, because compared to what lies outside, they are much, much easier to relate to. Some of them even have a sense of family and community.
New threats are starting to swarm into the vales. New heroes are needed...
as stated in the recruitment thread: all characters must be race or class (or both) from the Heros of Shadow book. PH1 and HoS classes only. No Essentials or Hybrids. Currently have a party of 6, but PM me if you'd like to join and we'll see what happens.
The town of Dehbgrab in the province Draheighl is hosting a funeral. It is a dim and murky day. The grausam clouds cloyingly blot out all but the bravest scraps of the sky. A caravan of travelers is arriving in town in time to pause and rest in respectful silence. Pausl Ebenwire was the beloved eldest son of the prominent Threshtin artisan family, so most of the townsfolk and locals are present. (Besides, attending the funeral is only good manners if you wish to attend the wake--rather like paying a toll to cross a bridge, or a child having to eat an unpleasant vegitable before being able to sample the chocolate cake.) And the Threshtin clan is sure to make the wake a proper social event.
"And may the Raven Queen speed you on your way to Correllon's court or Erathis' banquet hall. May you know the surity of a deserved rest. Above all, dear Pausl Ebenwire, may you STAY DOWN. Do not trouble your family and friends, do not discomfort their thoughts by rising. Let the Raven Queen's will be done in this matter."
There is a sinister howl from the marsh. A murder of crows rises from a neighboring field. The priests lead a solumn hymn.
About the town, the funerian lanterns, purple paned glass tinting their light, are being set up for the evening's wake. An hour before sunset, as the gloaming settles, the Threshtin manor house will be hosting. The inn is still accepting arrivals. There are also buildings that look abandoned on the horizon outside of town. Their peaked roofs somehow resemble corrupted teeth of a large predator.
Some people might already have been in town. Others might be travelling with the caravan of goods (as passengers, guards, or laborers). Decide which you would like to be. OoC thread up shortly
You are both rational and emotional. You value creation and discovery, and feel strongly about what I create. At best, you're innovative and intuitive. At worst, you're scattered and unpredictable.
Bow down, my subjects, for I am your master! Yesss.....Show
Osiris stands over the open grave, bidding his old fried goodbye for the last time. He would be a sobbing mess right now, the tears shining against his otherwise dull skin, but since his vampirism, the ducts have long dried up. He stands with pallid skin over his friend's grave, clawed hands clenching at his side. He mutters, "May the almighy Gods have mercy upon thee." and does the cross-over-heart sign so required by his far-away home. As if pained by even saying that, he shivers and growls. He turns as he hears the threatening howl. There is new danger afoot, he thinks to himself, smelling the fear of the humans near him. Repeating the cross-over-heart symbol, he walks to his home, the slightly large building, the one he was turned in, and notes the all-new faces of eager adventurers when he walks through town. He reminesces, with great sorrow, of his lover, Mehueret.
"It's dangerous to go alone, Jerk-wads!" (Borderlands 2)
“All right, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade! Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man whose gonna burn your house down - with the lemons!” (Portal 2)
Horlick had accompanied the caravan into town. "From righteous warrior of the Queen to wagon-guard", Horlick whispered, more to himself than anyone else. He casually walks over to the grave just as the priest finishes the prayer to the Raven Queen. Horlick wondered what the priest really knew of the Queen he spoke of. If he really knew who it was he was offering this dead man to.
Lost in his thoughts, Horlick almost misses the thin, pale man at the grave-side who appears to know the deceased. He wonders what sort of symbol the pale man gestures across his heart with long, clawed fingers. He has never seen it before. He sees the pale man make the odd hand-gesture a final time before walking away. Truly there was much he still had to learn about the ways of others.
Looking down into the grave, Horlick regards the corpse with no particular interest. Just another lost life. Another soul for the Queen, should She be interested in it. Surely She is busiest of the gods with so many fresh souls arriving to Her every day. When the howl from marsh echoes through town, Horlick hardly notices. Looking down at the deceased a final time, he offers his own prayer. "Be at rest. May the Queen have you, if it is Her will. If it is not...then I'm sure we will meet again on this world. If we do, then I guarantee you final rest. Take comfort in that, if nothing else."
Horlick returns to the lead wagon, bids the driver good-day, removes his belongings, and makes his way to the inn. While he never favored the company of strangers, the thought of warmth, a hot meal, and a soft bed sounded wonderful, even if only for one night. Perhaps he would find a quest in this dreadful area. By the Hells, anything would be better at this point than lowly caravan-guard. He had a feeling his services would be called upon before too long, and in this, Horlick took pleasure.
The Inn is one of the better appointed buildings in town. The stone ground floor supports the mud and wattle structure above. The gargoyle statues at the ends of the gutters do not look at all sinister, grim, or like they would like to suck the marrow from the bones of small children. They look like they would prefer to suck the marrow from the bones of adults. The main building is a public house, The Strangled Scream. The sign over the door shows an unfortunate with his mouth opened wide in perpetual torment while a noose around the neck severs any sound. Letters over the door frame bid welcome to all who enter in peace. The manager could be a Dwarf or a very dour Gnome. Either way, he welcomes Horlick when he enters, and a few of the other caravan guards who did not lose their wages by gambling. The furniture is mostly old, and looks worn, but moderately comfortable. There are dining tables, dancing areas, and a raised platform for musicians, though neither of the latter two are occupied at the momment. Rates are posted for food, ales, and private rooms. A homely looking maid is cleaning tables and doing menial labor while the comely younger woman works with the patrons, taking orders, and seeming unconsious or innocent of the stark blue-black beauty of her hair. Behind the Inn is a stable-yard and barn. Connected to the Strangled Scream by a short, enclosed hallway, is the Guest Wing, a building with over 20 rooms available.
The plaintive cry of a high-voiced bird rings out in sorrow for a lost mate. The predator in the woods dines well.
You are both rational and emotional. You value creation and discovery, and feel strongly about what I create. At best, you're innovative and intuitive. At worst, you're scattered and unpredictable.
Bow down, my subjects, for I am your master! Yesss.....Show
The tall, dour creature that is Garrick, passes by the grave. "At least you get to know your final rest, and may it be your final rest. Poor fool." he whispers.
As he heads towards the inn, he passes some guards, and from underneath his hood he addresses the guards, "Do you fear me? No? Maybe you should." he says with a snear and a snicker, and then enters into the inn.
His pale green eyes adjusting to the light of the inn, "There is work to be had here. As well as power and death." he whispers to himself more than anything.
Aquiring a room for the night, he goes to a table for a quick meal.
I am both selfish and chaotic. I value self-gratification and control; I want to have things my way, preferably now. At best, I'm entertaining and surprising; at worst, I'm hedonistic and violent.
From among the caravan of travelers arriving in town whom passed the display of the respected elder giving silent words for his plight was a fully robed, light-skinned young woman looking out of her robe's hood carrying and wearing an unusual backpack with small game's pelts hanging along its sides and twigged tied bushy branches and plants wrapped together hanging in- between the pelts.
Behind and above the more darken reddish-brown hooded robe's attached backpack was handles of a large crossbow and a blunt end of a good-sized metal ball can be seen in the robe folds around the right side of the waist area. Further inspection of her wardrode, one can see that the full body hooded robe and backpack was same cloth with an opening for the crossbow' handle and had three other opening about the waistline on the sides and rear with a couple of impressive daggers, one looking nearly cermonial, while the other looks like well used hunter's knife both was in their own sheathes and caches strapped to leather clothing underneath the young woman's robe and only visible when her body's movement cause a rare glimspe of them within the robes' free hanging thick material folds.
After a short observation for the elder and his family the young woman started walking toward the inn's door while looking around obviously for a general trading post but settled with a short rest in the inn's dining area.
Ironscar (Mace): +7 vs. AC; 1d8+5 damage, and you slide the target 1 square. Widow's Knife: +6 vs. AC; 1d4+4 damage, and you slide the target 1 square.
At-Will Minor Action Target: Enemy nearest to you that you can see Effect: Once per turn until the end of the encounter if you hit an enemy that was targeted by this power with a warlock power, you may deal a additional 1d6 damage.
The dire power of your attack drives your enemy before you. At-WillArcane, Weapon Standard ActionMelee weapon Target: One creature Attack: +7 vs. AC; 1d8+5 damage, and you slide the target 1 square. This power counts as a melee basic attack.
You instantly gain vitality from a cursed enemy when that enemy falls. At-Will Free ActionPersonal Prerequisite: Infernal Pact Trigger: An enemy under your Warlock’s Curse is reduced to 0 hit points or fewer Effect: You immediately gain temporary hit points equal to your level.
You lash forth with a crackling ray of arcane power. As the beam rips into your foe’s flesh, you release part of your life force to ensure that this hellish bolt carries a portion of your foe’s with it. At-WillArcane, Implement Standard ActionRanged 10 Target: One creature Attack: +6 vs. Reflex; 1d10+5 Miss: You can choose to take 1 damage and reroll the attack roll. You can choose this only once each time you use this attack.
A hand of iron appears around your foe and crushes it with the sickening sound of popping bones and grinding flesh. EncounterArcane, Implement Standard ActionRanged 10 Primary Target: One creature Primary Attack: +6 vs. Fortitude; 2d10+5 damage, and the primary target cannot willingly move closer to you until the end of your next turn while BM gains resist 2 until the end of your next turn. Miss: You take 1 damage but can make a secondary attack. Secondary Attack: (Targets one creature other than the primary target) +5 vs. Fortitude; (1/2 of) 2d10+5, and the secondary target cannot move closer to you until the end of your next turn.
Devil's Pawn Attack: Hellfire and Brimstone {1}Show
Your brand burns, searing through clothing and flesh as hellfire springs up around you. EncounterArcane, Fire, Zone Minor ActionClose burst 2 Effect: Creatures in the burst take 5 fire damage. The burst creates a zone that lasts until the end of your next turn. While in the zone, enemies take a -2 penalty to attack rolls and all defenses.
You use one death as the seed to sow more destruction. Encounter Necrotic Free ActionTrigger: A creature within 5 squares of you is reduced to 0 hit points Effect: One creature of your choice that you hit with an attack before the end of your next turn takes 1d8+1 necrotic damage.
A thick mist rises around you. Within it, the intoxicating power of fey magic overwhelms your enemies’ senses, driving those foes to lash out at each other in their madness. DailyArcane, Charm, Implement, Psychic Standard ActionClose burst 1 Target: Each enemy in the burst Attack: +6 vs. Will; 1d6 +5 psychic damage, and the target makes a melee basic attack as a free action against a creature of your choice. Effect: If you miss every target, the power is not expended.
Daily Acid Free Action.Trigger: You hit a target with an attack using this rod. Effect: The target takes 1d8 extra acid damage and a -2 penalty to attack rolls until the end of your next turn.
@MTG Forums. Contestant: A Contest Like No Other hosted by Fakeartist. An Angelic Aspect In The Wild, Wild World Of The Mata Hari's Agency.
@DnD Forums. Digital Artist In Training: What Do YOU Think MY Character Looks Like's Thread - @4e Character Development forum. Player (Osborn) - Bounty Hunter (Fighter DnDNext): DnD presents The Walking Dead @Play By Post Forum. Player (Shana Zorus) - Professional Bodyguard/Adventurer (Hybrid Warden/Paladin 4e): The Unhallowed Gate @Play By Post Haven Forum (DM by ffShadow) Player (Krist Breeze) - Twiceborn War Mage/Imbuer (Hybrid Warlord/Wizard 4e): Castle Greyhawk - @Real Adventures (DM by Icanus) Player (Blyne Munro) - Happy-Go-Lucky Scout/Explorer (Warlock 4e) Domain of Shadows-Darkness Falls - Play By Post Haven (DM by WhisperMagellan) Player (Ansmril) - Vistani Blessed Psalmist (Bard/Shaman 4e) The Dragon Below Can't Have It This Good - (And I'm The DM) DM - The Young Mercenaries/Ps'V-GoodShip Drow Diplomacy. DM - The Unlikely Diplomats/Ps'V- GoodShip Drow Diplomacy. DM - The Dragon Below Can't Have It This Good/Ps'V GoodShip Diplomacy. Referee - People Of Oz @Dorothy's Kansas Games(inactive). Oz League: The Ardent Lord w/People Of Oz @Dorothy's Kansas Games(inactive). Ps'V = The Players' Vault Forum Group In Which I'm The Owner Of.
Cal'Kulas rumages around through the debris of the abandoned warehouse. Where is it! It has to be here, his message said it would be under this refuse in this building...maybe I got the wrong one? He looks down at the worn parchment. No! His instructions are clear, it's here, or should be here. After searching the building for about an hour he notices sun setting. Better get back to my room...this is worrysome. If the package isn't here then where? Walking back to town Cal'Kulas see the last few people leaving the cemetary. He approaches a commoner, "Hello townsman, who was laid to rest the afternoon?"
Pausl Ebenwire sir...sir?! Cal'Kulas looks over at the gravesmen filling in the hole and then at the darkening sky. Just my luck. I wonder where I can get a shovel?
This is soo boring Harmon thought to himself.I thought this guy was supposed to be important, and this is what they do for him? He had attended the funeral itself, and was now lounging in the common area of the inn.
Not important enough to send Jarvis, I notice. He likes these things Harmon thinks a little bitterly to himself.However, he then remembers just why he was here now and feels a little guilty. Still, Father did insist that I attend. Maybe he intends me to try my hand at diplomacy as well.
As the inn begins to fill up, he notices the motley crew that begins to assemble. This seems to be bringing out all types, Harmon thinks as he sees an increasingly armed and armored clientele form. At this, he spots the walking suit of armor that he noticed earlier at the funeral. Seems to me he may be a kindred spirit in service of the Queen, if I remember that prayer he made at the funeral correctly.
Walking over to the man, ensuring his own symbol pledging devotion to the Raven Queen was prominently hanging from around his neck, Harmon states rather openly "Hail, fellow traveller," then, in a more restrained tone "Looks to me as if you are enjoying this affair about as much as I am."
Horlick looks up from his drink as Harmon approaches. Instantly he spots the Queen's symbol, and his brow creases noticeably. He sits his tankard on the wooden table and extends his hand toward the stranger.
"Hail to you as well. As for enjoyment, I think I would rather be mopping the privvy floor in an asylum than attend another funeral. Still in all, though, at least the business of guarding that caravan is over. From the looks of this place's patrons, it would seem likely that something of interest lies in the near future."
Horlick motions one large arm toward the chair next to him, bumping the table and hissing to himself as he grabs his tankard before it topples over. "If you have drink, then join me and we shall talk. If you do not, then allow me to purchase one for you. I welcome good conversation in this dreary place. I am Horlick D'Nauvin, son of Malak D'Nauvin of Hünterkrest, warrior and servant of the Raven Queen."
Harmon takes the man's hand when it is offered. He remains standing until he is offered a seat.
"Well, it would be quite rude to reject such an offer," Harmon politely states as he takes up the offer and sits down. "Caravan guard, eh? You had the look of someone who knew how to use a weapon. I must reject your offer of drink, but I would more than willing to discuss interesting matters with another servant of the Queen."
He pauses for a moment, then continues, "Forgive my rudeness. Harmon Loredana," he states, indicating himself. "If you arrived here with the caravans, you may not know, but my family has some land holdings in the area. I myself have been abroad, tending to duties as a member of the clergy. There was a minor matter south of here a few weeks back that needed my attention, but I needn't bore you with the details."
Looking around the room, he adds, a little quieter, "I'm here as a representative for my family, but I really suspect that it was to let me relax. These things really are more my brothers' speed, to be honest. I really hate sitting around myself."
"Can never tell with these adventuring types, but I got a feeling something interesting may be going on. Can't be growin' fat now, right?" And with that, he bursts out with a hearty laugh.
Arcane, Weapon
