HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"Have the blasted thing scrawl some runes in the dirt. Is that so difficult?"
Hacksaw on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"In my clan we write everything in blood to mark truth. Of course, that means little now. I suppose ink would work as well." The dragon would rise, his eyes glaring at the wizard. "The Tiefling would best not do such a thing again. Still, you are right. He should." Then, looking to Tor. "Script is as long in Draconic as it is in Common. A few runes would be a word. We need sentences. Writing in dirt will not suffice- especially if he plans to give us maps."
Zen Vulgarity on
0
Options
HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"What, are we at a loss for dirt, up here? There's plenty of room. Just have him write smaller than a giant's stroke and we'll be fine."
Hacksaw on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"Wind would make such a thing problematic and it wouldn't keep well, would it. Also, it's not something we can bring with us."
Zen Vulgarity on
0
Options
HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"So keep it in your mind. Is your memory so woeful that you cannot remember a few sentences?"
The kobold swallows, but fear overtakes disgust, and he takes the bloody instrument with remarkable dexterity and skill, and writes, with a traditional script by shaky hands; a mark of... education?:
(In Draconic)
"I am of the clan of the song dragon. I cannot speak, I was given the choice of voice or death, as were we all. The silent ones have promised to make up for the loss of our great Lady Diva, Most Beauteous Bard, Source of all True Music, by making those of us who pledged loyalty into dragons ourselves. We could not betray our pledge, but our lives were spared if we would guard this pass until sunrise. And now we are thus."
The kobold drops his head in shame and inner pain, much worse than its simple wounds, claws digging into the dirt.
Incenjucar on
0
Options
HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"Who are these 'Silent Ones', kobold? What nature of creature are they?"
Hacksaw on
0
Options
Goose!That's me, honeyShow me the way home, honeyRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
Maserati felt some pity for the thing, but mostly thought it weak. One might call him dishonest, but he would sooner die before entering into servitude for another. He chimed in with Tor.
"Silent ones are human? They stayed hidden in robes and hoods. Only their leaders spoke, but the words were only thoughts. They emptied our cave and brought us here in covered wagons with horses made of bone and shadow, and instructed our priestess. She said she and the others would become dragons if they killed the whales by killing their king and promised their voices to the stars and bathed in the flame of the holy tower." The Kobold points to the fallen one with two swords. "He was the priestess' lover."
Incenjucar on
0
Options
HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"'Bathed in the flame of the holy tower?' Well I think that tears it. Pack it in, boys; I think it's time we made way towards the Welcoming Dawn."
Finwe had finished catching his breath now for a little while now, and was just finishing up removing the bigs of charred kobold flesh and blood from his armor. Standing, he walked by the scene of the interrogation and seeing that things were going well he decided to let Magnus continue unfettered in one of his areas of expertise; diplomacy.
He continues to walk to the shore, avoiding the sand traps he noticed earlier. Once as close to the water as he can get he stands there, arms folded, staring out to the sea letting the events of the previous battle and the cool ocean breeze wash over him. He wonders if know he'll be able to see the source of the mournful whale cry that brought them here...
The whales are visible as dark masses in the sea, their true numbers obscured by the darkness, but a whole pod seems to be gathered, moonlight glittering across their briney backs. One of them is particularly close to shore... now that the party has rested, they could get a closer look with a good jog on the hard-packed seashore...
Finwe casts an eye back to the interrogation, he doesn't want to interrupt the proceedings just yet. But, he's not sure if this... whale situation? can wait either. And he certainly doesn't want to head out on the beach alone either. He heads back towards the rest of the party, intent on informing them of his cetacean findings.
Inquisitor on
0
Options
HacksawJ. Duggan Esq.Wrestler at LawRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
Tor moves towards the whales, intent on investigating their plight.
"Looks like we're moving then," said Finwe with a slight sigh. Once things settled down a nice good talk on strategy and team work seemed to be in order, but that would have to wait. Turning on the balls of his feet he began to follow Tor up the coast, not willing to let one of his fellow adventurers go off on their own.
Inquisitor on
0
Options
Goose!That's me, honeyShow me the way home, honeyRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
As the others continued to question the kobold, Maserati drew into the cover of the trees. With their aid, and the cover of nightfall, he would conceal himself. Then, once he was quite satisfied with his hiding spot, he withdrew the vials of fluid he had unearthed and began to examine them carefully, trying to find any clue to what they are in their color, movement through the bottle, or any sort of clue he could use.
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited June 2008
"Eldarian, you can 'sleep' and keep watch at the same time, yes? Let us try to rest somewhere where you can still see the area around us well. And this sword is still ringing my ears." Magnus let out a slight hiss of his tongue, a trait of him being irritated. "I see why, whatever they are, they want to get rid of sound."
"Aye... Let's get some rest..." Finwe's voice trails off. He walks slowly at the rear of the group, following where they lead. The world feels distant and remote to him, his mind finally getting the time to let his near death experience sink in. He unlatches his mask and helmet, taking them off and tucks them under his left arm and uses his free arm to uncoil his hair and let the braid hang down his back. Even without his helmet on nothing registers to his senses as well as they should. His mind wanders to other such times when he held on to life by a narrow thread, and absent mindedly he begins to touch his eye patch.
Of the town of Bellhaven, apart from its recent troubles, this much is known:
Bellhaven
Bellhaven is a small town with a long history. Built on either side of a swift river which flows into a wide, island-sheltered lagoon, the self-governed town rests on top and around the foundations of an ancient fortress which is said to have disappeared even before the imperial era, now past, had begun. In the more recent past, the town was a center for trade and cultural exchange, where the peoples of the frigid lands north of Merrywinter, and the spice traders of the distant western islands would gather in the Winter months to enjoy the local climate, which is far more hospitable than their own lands during that season, though the natives are deeply bronzed from the weather of the rest of the year. With the decline of the imperial era, however, the distant peoples have become a rare sight in Bellhaven, as sea travel has become more perilous, and luxuries such as travel more sparse. Still, Bellhaven’s industrious people have made the best of their resources, making their livings from the bounty of the waters, and the white clay, sand, and gypsum deposits that were once simply treated as scenery. Yearly catches of squid also provide a brisk, if brief, ink trade. The people of Bellhaven are known to have a taboo against hunting whales, and whale products are banned from the city. Owing to its more prosperous past, Bellhaven has an outdoor gymnasium, a bath house, and even a small but well-regarded library. Farms supply Bellhaven with a variety of fruits and vegetables, but the soil is not especially productive and is hard to work, and so crop yields are merely a supplement, though there is great variety as farmers are still experimenting to find an ideal crop for the area. Seaweed harvesting, seabird hunting, and trading for grain provide the remainder of the diet, while dairy and red meat are a luxury and status symbol. The inhabitants of Bellhaven are mostly human, and mostly of the bronze-skinned peoples of Merrywinter, but there are traces of foreign bloodlines in some individuals, and a few members of the non-human races can be found.
Incenjucar on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
The sinuous, and badly-burned Crescendo lies still and unknowing as Beat, the shield-bearer, quietly places her fallen love's amulet about her neck, the glint of the shell glittering in the radiant light along with Crescendo's silver throat. Her hide is much less marred than it might be, thanks to the strange, once-living armor that she wore taking the brunt of the damage, though it is know itself healed. She seems much more frail now, though still absurdly tall and graceful for a kobold. Still fully under his mutation, Treble trembles in a troubled dream, the terrible battle going on endlessly behind his twitching eyelids as the pain drowns him.
Beat seats himself, and would probably be silent now even if he could make a sound. His claws fold in his lap as he awaits the fate the adventurers have in store for what's left of his people.
Incenjucar on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited July 2008
The scaly, crimson blood of dragons rubbed the top of his head, his sword sheathed from the battle before. He surveyed the damage a bit, sighing a bit at what had need to be done. At least two more of Beat's kin were not killed today- three is better than none. The dragon looked over the twitching mutant-kobold, an eye twitching in slight annoyance at the egregious actions prior to claw at his body. Eventually he would heal with some minor scarring.
The rather large, yet young, dragon lumbered over to tor, patting him on the shoulder and asking him in common tongue to try and stabilize the flyer further. After, he would move over to Beat, crouching down to his level.
(Draconic) "We saved whom we could. At least, it seems, the tall one (Cres) and the flying one (Tre) are still alive. The other two...were not so lucky. Too strong of a fighter's strike and a wizard's flame. Their deaths were swift, it seemed."
Beat pulls his knees up around himself and lowers his head, eyes turned to the billowing radiance of the Welcoming Dawn. Slowly, the calls of seagulls emerge in the air, and the silence comes to be lifted from the land, leaving the three silenced kobolds all the more isolated in the world.
Incenjucar on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited July 2008
"We'll do what we can to try to at least restore your voices, little one." The dragon looked over to the mutant and the former leader. "What do you wish us to do with them?"
Beat stares, gets up and finds a convenient pool of blood to write in. "They are my people."
He walks away slowly, scrambles up onto the rim of the "bowl" of the roof, and seats himself on the edge, legs hanging down. He ignores the terrifying height, and watches the sea, letting the salty breeze and cawing searbirds absorb his senses.
Incenjucar on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited July 2008
Understanding, the young dragon moved from his spot over to the downed priestess, spitting a frozen ice shard over the tower's edge. His blade would be thusly drawn, letting a faint howl enter the ears of those who were attuned to its magical properties. The howling blade would tap the side of the priestess in an attempt to stir her, blade at the ready to make sure she didn't do anything...foolish.
Zen Vulgarity on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited July 2008
Sheathing the blade, the dragon turned his head to beat. "She violated a sacred pact. You realize this, yes?"
In the distance, the whales call back to the blade as it sings through the air, though they are far away now, so the sound is relatively faint. The priestess shivers and writhes in pain as the blade's thunderous energy bruises her flesh, though she has not the energy to wake.
Beat casts a glance back at the mention of the sacred, lifts a scaley brow, makes a praying motion with his claws, points at the priestess, and turns back to the sea with a defeated shrug.
Incenjucar on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited July 2008
"Holy or not, she violated a pan-generational pact. Dragons created both our kind.We do not kill our creators for something like this." The dragonborn is clearly disgusted at the way she had acted in her past. If it were not for the kobold and the guilt he felt for killing most of his kin, the dragonblood would have executed her to bring justice to their patron.
Zen Vulgarity on
0
Options
Zen VulgarityWhat a lovely day for teaSecret British ThreadRegistered Userregular
edited August 2008
The young blood of Dragons of old grabbed the former paladin, smiling a toothy grin over to the wererat before dragging the mighty human away from ears and eyes. "Tell me, former follower of the Gods. What gives you the right to desire to kill so swiftly in a holy place? You seemed so eager in Pelor, and now here. Have you no conscience?"
Posts
(In Draconic)
"I am of the clan of the song dragon. I cannot speak, I was given the choice of voice or death, as were we all. The silent ones have promised to make up for the loss of our great Lady Diva, Most Beauteous Bard, Source of all True Music, by making those of us who pledged loyalty into dragons ourselves. We could not betray our pledge, but our lives were spared if we would guard this pass until sunrise. And now we are thus."
The kobold drops his head in shame and inner pain, much worse than its simple wounds, claws digging into the dirt.
"Where can we find 'em?"
( Til tomorrow )
He continues to walk to the shore, avoiding the sand traps he noticed earlier. Once as close to the water as he can get he stands there, arms folded, staring out to the sea letting the events of the previous battle and the cool ocean breeze wash over him. He wonders if know he'll be able to see the source of the mournful whale cry that brought them here...
1d20 2=20
Maserati began looking around for a decent place with cover, so that they wouldn't be so exposed.
"Pehaps back up the path, with the cover of the trees?"
Bellhaven
Bellhaven is a small town with a long history. Built on either side of a swift river which flows into a wide, island-sheltered lagoon, the self-governed town rests on top and around the foundations of an ancient fortress which is said to have disappeared even before the imperial era, now past, had begun. In the more recent past, the town was a center for trade and cultural exchange, where the peoples of the frigid lands north of Merrywinter, and the spice traders of the distant western islands would gather in the Winter months to enjoy the local climate, which is far more hospitable than their own lands during that season, though the natives are deeply bronzed from the weather of the rest of the year. With the decline of the imperial era, however, the distant peoples have become a rare sight in Bellhaven, as sea travel has become more perilous, and luxuries such as travel more sparse. Still, Bellhaven’s industrious people have made the best of their resources, making their livings from the bounty of the waters, and the white clay, sand, and gypsum deposits that were once simply treated as scenery. Yearly catches of squid also provide a brisk, if brief, ink trade. The people of Bellhaven are known to have a taboo against hunting whales, and whale products are banned from the city. Owing to its more prosperous past, Bellhaven has an outdoor gymnasium, a bath house, and even a small but well-regarded library. Farms supply Bellhaven with a variety of fruits and vegetables, but the soil is not especially productive and is hard to work, and so crop yields are merely a supplement, though there is great variety as farmers are still experimenting to find an ideal crop for the area. Seaweed harvesting, seabird hunting, and trading for grain provide the remainder of the diet, while dairy and red meat are a luxury and status symbol. The inhabitants of Bellhaven are mostly human, and mostly of the bronze-skinned peoples of Merrywinter, but there are traces of foreign bloodlines in some individuals, and a few members of the non-human races can be found.
Beat seats himself, and would probably be silent now even if he could make a sound. His claws fold in his lap as he awaits the fate the adventurers have in store for what's left of his people.
The rather large, yet young, dragon lumbered over to tor, patting him on the shoulder and asking him in common tongue to try and stabilize the flyer further. After, he would move over to Beat, crouching down to his level.
(Draconic) "We saved whom we could. At least, it seems, the tall one (Cres) and the flying one (Tre) are still alive. The other two...were not so lucky. Too strong of a fighter's strike and a wizard's flame. Their deaths were swift, it seemed."
He walks away slowly, scrambles up onto the rim of the "bowl" of the roof, and seats himself on the edge, legs hanging down. He ignores the terrifying height, and watches the sea, letting the salty breeze and cawing searbirds absorb his senses.
Beat casts a glance back at the mention of the sacred, lifts a scaley brow, makes a praying motion with his claws, points at the priestess, and turns back to the sea with a defeated shrug.