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Ördael: The Night Plague

1356

Posts

  • AuralynxAuralynx Darkness is a perspective Watching the ego workRegistered User regular
    Ephriam, the Exorcist 6/6, Armor 1

    Ephraim quietly loads his gear into the eastern hut and turns in, making no offer to stand watch tonight. The duel with the wolf-creature took more out of him than he'd like to admit to the others.

    kshu0oba7xnr.png

  • Albino BunnyAlbino Bunny Jackie Registered User regular
    Jacyth took to the hut by the water. Soon having it at least a little decorated with rugs and small luxuries smuggled away in her bag. One of the few luxuries this apocalypse had afforded was the ability to proudly display her order's achievements and beliefs after all and she rarely missed a chance to extol them upon the group.

    "I can consecrate the ground of one hut and render it resistant to the night, though it's not great for peaceful sleep and I only have supplies to do it once till we get somewhere civilised," she offers, leaning up against the door to the hut.

  • SuperRuperSuperRuper Registered User regular
    Corvus -- HP 5, Armor 1

    Corvus took a long look at the forlorn huts.

    "I think I'll take my chances outside."

    He then moved to the ridge to find a suitable place to lay his bedroll, keeping his back to the rock.

    "Argyle wake me when you tire. I will take second watch."

    steam_sig.png
    PSN: ChemENGR
  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Just two more watches must be kept after Argyle.
    Sir Emory sensed nothing untoward, but remained alert. The road, part paved, part cobble stone, is partially flooded in spots with shallow water. Tiny insects and other floating life teems within them. Tiny innocent worlds, you think.
    Where and when did you come across Sir Emory?

    In the east most hut the shallow water had seeped into the floor. The smell of damp pervaded the small space. Jacyth and Ephraim were comfortable, for the most part.
    Only Ephraim may read this:
    You sleep soundly.

    Only Jacyth may read this:
    You are swallowed by emptiness. You drown in it. You hear nothing but your own heartbeat.
    You are elsewhere, but your body is cutting down your enemies. Black shapes on black shapes, felt rather than seen. You open your mouth to call down to yourself but nothing comes out.
    Time passes, you think.
    Then you are held in in the arms of a beautiful figure. You’re not sure how long they’ve been here. They glow faintly, like the rare battery lamps of the Witching Council chambers. You smile as you recall thinking them pure magic, then recall that well of pride the day you finally built your own under the matriarch’s tutelage.
    “There is more to the world than base material—you know this, more than most. You are the finest witch of this age. Don’t waste away below. The body is a prison, Jacyth.”

    Tell the figure the forbidden ritual you once desired to master. Do you still want it?

    Corvus felt a chill, then turned to sleep.
    Only Corvus may read this:
    You sleep well enough, but you’re not warm.

    Geth roll 1d6 for Corvus

    Corvus:
    1d6 4 [1d6=4]

    Endless_Serpents on
  • GlaziusGlazius Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Argyle, the Ratcatcher -- HP 7, Armor 1

    The huts made for an uneasy watch, all told. Always screening the approach from some angle, but he was used to long patrolling and did the circuits as quietly as he could. Occasionally Sir Emory trotted off ahead and around, and by midnight was up by a good thirty laps.

    No one here asked him, "why pick this ratter from all the others?", because they didn't know there were others, because he hadn't said. In his experience, no one was ever happy to learn that the guttersnipes were banding together, making their own homes, keeping their own work beasts, in the places that the happy people forgot about. But if anyone asked, he'd have said it was just a feeling.

    He was having that feeling again, that odd familiar feeling, stepping into the edges of a memory. The stone was damp and crumbling, the air moist, and Sir Emory was coolly ignoring the wound that would become a scar. It was in its way like that morning in the waste-tunnels several years ago, less the stone overhead, the horde of rats, and some noble's cast-off litter which had fewer survivors than it might if Argyle hadn't been so cautious to approach.

    It was an omen, he finally decided. He slipped Sir Emory a bit of tripe, prodded Corvus awake, and turned back to bed down in the central hut. An omen of what, Argyle couldn't say, but he fixed it in his mind as his tired body gave itself up to sleep.

    Glazius on
  • SuperRuperSuperRuper Registered User regular
    Corvus -- HP 5, Armor 1

    Corvus awoke uneasily to the same dreams that plagued him ever since he could remember. He had gotten used to uneasy sleeps, but something in this night chilled the bones a bit more.

    He spent most of the watch pacing in silence, pulling his cloak a bit closer with every breeze that found it's way through the trees. Every now and then he found himself staring into the puddles at his own reflection. The years had not been kind and a hot shower and shave were few and far between. His old post would not have tolerated the state of his jawline, or the length of his hair.

    As the night drew on and the patrols became more tedious, Corvus endeavored to identify the music of the forest around him. Birds especially were always of interest to him. He envied them. Wings to beat back the night and soar above the refuse of life below.

    Geth, roll 2d6 for Standing Patrol

    Standing Patrol:
    2d6 7 [2d6=5, 2]

    steam_sig.png
    PSN: ChemENGR
  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    The hut is dry enough, and not too dusty. Unadorned. Hollow. A shell of a place. Perhaps the occupants took all they had when they left. Argyle paid no mind before they slept, but there was a small basket in the corner, and Sir Emory slept soundly amongst its contents.

    Only Argyle may read this:
    Arrows are loosed. Before the first scream flames engulf the thatched roofs. Oscar grabs your hand tightly. You look down to him. You have to run, now, away. You have to get Oscar to safety.
    Argyle, roll+DEX, hide it in a spoiler.


    The call of bats are briefly heard, Corvus. Superstition deemed them evil. Do you agree? To the south your keen eyes see something glint in your torchlight, Corvus. Ground level, small. You can’t make it out. Metal, perhaps? You step closer and feel the cold of a large puddle. The water is overflowing with minuscule things.
    What do you do?

    Endless_Serpents on
  • SuperRuperSuperRuper Registered User regular
    Corvus -- HP 5, Armor 1

    "Leathery black wings shadow a pale moon
    Make your peace, your end comes soon"

    Corvus whispered the doublet. He was always fond of rhymes, but he wasn't one to give in to superstition. He also wasn't one to tempt fate without just cause. When the shine of metal caught his eye he stayed his hand.

    "When river roars, then drink your fill
    When water stays, then leave it still."

    steam_sig.png
    PSN: ChemENGR
  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    Your watch comes to a close without incident. Above you thick clouds are forming, hiding the moon and her stars.

  • GlaziusGlazius Registered User regular
    Argyle, the Ratcatcher -- HP 7, Armor 1

    A black tree scarred against a black night.
    A familiar path in an unknown city.
    The thousand moons that have never been.
    Geth, roll 2d6+1 for flight in dreams.

    flight in dreams:
    2d6+1 6 [2d6=1, 4]

  • KirindalKirindal Registered User regular
    Bennu the Wanderer - HP: 2

    Bennu would not refuse the luxury of a roof over his head, such opportunities were rare on the road and he was no ascetic. "I'll take the fourth shift when you are done, Corvus." With that, he unrolled his bedroll and laid down and fell asleep, the thoughts of the lost boat still on his mind,

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    Only Argyle may read this:
    You’re too slow. You’re always too slow. Flames cut through your path, heavy smoke billowing through the streets. Ash clings to you face. Oscar is crying for Nessy.

    You spin this way and that, the screams melting into the warcries of the Redmen; local brigands that sided with Zuevollos in the early days. Fools that thought they could appease the Sovereign Triumphant.

    Roll+WIS to find your escape route

    Bennu’s slumber in the west most hut was deep, and his snoring was terrible. This hut was rotting, and new shoots peaked through the gaps in the shoddy boards.
    Only Bennu may read this:
    Bennu, Bennu, Bennu…” Archbishop Adda intones.
    He lay on his back. Dead. His innards torn from his stomach, his mouth closed tight in pain. Bells are ringing, though fewer sound out by the second. The boats are already leaving. The clergy scrambled for them, begged, bartered and damnated their way aboard the evacuation vessels hours before the queen’s guard let the common folk through—and the guard were long gone now too.
    “Death is a release from worldly torments.”, he says.

    You are running for you life. You are knelt before Adda. Adda is anointing your head, swearing you in as a cleric. The bells are silent as you drink from a stream, miles from home.
    You stare into the clear shallow water. He lay on his back. Dead.
    The Archbishop smiles, “Bennu, Bennu, Bennu… Confess.”

    Tell Archbishop Adda your deepest regret. When you’ve answered, wake up!
    Corvus shook Bennu to take his watch. Bennu, what do you do?

  • Albino BunnyAlbino Bunny Jackie Registered User regular
    Also I don't really need an in character post for this but the answer to my secret thing is: Yes

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Jacyth wakes with a start. You can make out the shape of your companion in the dark. Sleeping like a babe, you think.
    Only Jacyth may read this:
    You don’t feel like you’ve gained any knowledge or sudden flow of power. You’re relieved. It was just a dream.



    Geth roll 1d6+1 for Jacyth

    Jacyth:
    1d6+1 3 [1d6=2]

    Endless_Serpents on
  • AuralynxAuralynx Darkness is a perspective Watching the ego workRegistered User regular
    Re: my note -
    And now for something completely different,

    kshu0oba7xnr.png

  • Albino BunnyAlbino Bunny Jackie Registered User regular
    Jacyth grumbled as she rose. Taking the last watch with barely a word. Her pistol in hand and a torch from her hut warding off the darkness.

  • GlaziusGlazius Registered User regular
    Argyle, the Ratcatcher -- HP 7, Armor 1

    A hole in the floorboards.
    A mask, thick and midnight.
    Down, down, down.
    Geth, roll 2d6 for dreamsight.

    dreamsight:
    2d6 4 [2d6=2, 2]

  • MatevMatev Cero Miedo Registered User regular
    Solvan Sant, Hunter - HP 12, Armor 1

    Solvan would sleep wherever he could find space. He would be up early to aid the final watch anyways. No one slept easy in these days.

    "Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
    Hail Hydra
  • KirindalKirindal Registered User regular
    "No, no, no! It was necessary!" Bennu struggled against the iron hold of the dream, before being dragged to the inevitable point to kneel before Adda. The water chilled him to the bones and as Bennu stared into the face of his superior he found the secret easily slipping from his lips. "I stole the collection of the monthly tithe. The community needed it more than the Church did... Value only comes from investment!"

    Bennu jerked awake at Corvus's touch, his eyes flitting back and forth before settling on him. Breathing hard, Bennu tried to compose himself... "Is it...my turn?" He could taste bitter bile at the back of his mouth.

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Only Argyle may read this:
    The aqueduct! Even as someone runs by you, fear driving them into the inferno, you heave with all your might against a manhole cover to reach the rich folk’s underground water supply. No ladder. You panic. You push Oscar in and leap in after. Everything blurs. Rushing water. Tight spaces. Horses above. Darkness. A private bathhouse, abandoned. You never saw Oscar again.
    There whereabouts of Oscar are a mystery. He’d be two years younger than you now, if he lives.
    You gain 100 experience.

    Solvan instinctively slept in the central hut, to be both the furthest away from possible danger, and to have time to react to it with the best of his skill.
    Only Solvan may read this:
    Your sleep is dreamless.
    When you wake you have the condition: weary

    The final watch goes on awkwardly as Bennu and Jacyth pace in different directs. They startle each other more than once. Wind whips up the crisp leaves, rustles the empty branches and advances the dark clouds above like so many legions.

    As covetous night’s hold begins to slip, they hear a voice as their paths once again met head on.
    “Ahh. Ahh ahh ahh. M-my my. Th-that is my h-house. Weee. Hhh. We m-made them.”, a voice of a woman, as if from deep within a well, “Hhh. Ahh ahh ahh. Away! Away!”

    Torchlight can hardly help you describe it. It moves on many legs, but it seems to have no beginning or end. It—no, it does, neither of you are hardened enough for what that pale shape may be. Its hair is matted with leaves and filth.
    The creature moves sideways towards you, then one way, then turns. It begins a low rattling noise, a warning, perhaps. It walks towards you some, then backs off, then repeats in a cycle. All you can tell so far is that it wants to get to the hut.

    Bennu, Jacyth, you are both in front of the central hut. Solvan is asleep, lightly, behind you. He’ll need a moment to get ready once awake.
    Everyone else is asleep.

    7u5gkb2p4vts.jpeg

    What do you do?
    As always make rolls if there is a possible success or failure, just do it if it’s fairly mundane. We’re playing by what I’d call comic book rules, so you can act and talk at the same time, at length.

    Endless_Serpents on
  • Albino BunnyAlbino Bunny Jackie Registered User regular
    Jacyth stilled herself. Taking the beast's measure. Stooping to the ground as she scooped up a handful of dust and ash from beneath the torch. Packing it in with her usual pistol shot. Aiming at the beast's face and yanking it into firing position. Hoping the cloud of dust would slow it enough to allow the other's to take position.

    Geth, roll 2d6+3 for sneaky tricks

    sneaky tricks:
    2d6+3 14 [2d6=6, 5]

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    KA-KOOM!
    The blast echoed for miles around.
    Birds and bats take flight from the forest—a sudden but brief cacophony of wings and shrill calls of alarm.

    The insectile undead reeled and convulsed. Legs scrambled chaotically as it rolled from one side to the other, then stood again, quivering with pain.
    “Hh! Sh-sh-she! She above! Ahh ahh ahh!” it moaned, “Away! Away! Hh ahh hhh!”
    It swung around to hide its battered human head from you, trailing gouts of black blood as it did so, revealing now a second face comprised of hundreds of needle-like teeth and minuscule, wet orifices.

    Jacyth, you have blinded it for good.
    It takes 6 damage.

    ——————

    You all carry +1 against it until the end of the scene, no matter what you’re attempting.
    No one can get to the scene before Bennu acts, so please wait on your next posts, but the sound of gunfire will likely wake you all.

    Endless_Serpents on
  • KirindalKirindal Registered User regular
    Bennu backed away slowly from the odd creature and knelt next to Solvan. "Wake up, Solvan! There's something..." Bennu flinched at the sound of the gunshot, he would never get used to the sound Jacyth's weapon made. "...attacking the huts!"

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    “Th-th-thieves! Banhhh hh aah aah! Bandits!”, a muffled cry, soon replaced by a deathly rattle.
    The undead exudes a dirty liquid from the pores of its bloated body, dripping, pooling thickly beneath it as it cantors around, filling the space left by Bennu. It rears up to face you, Jacyth, a few of its legs flailing in display.

  • Albino BunnyAlbino Bunny Jackie Registered User regular
    Jacyth growled, back to the wall, a blinded creature infront of her. Making do with the best she could. Flipping her gun around, it's solid steel stock bared in the moonlight. Cracking it down to the beast's flesh and trying to shove past it.

    Geth, roll 2d6 for Witch SMASH

    Witch SMASH:
    2d6 2 [2d6=1, 1]

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    The flesh parts like rotten fruit, and your arm becomes lodged within folds of disgusting blubber. As you pull away a geyser of black blood washes over you, pervading your eyes and mouth. The insectile thing’s rattle is cut short as its limbs begin to curl inwardly. It is dead.

    Jacyth, you have the condition: poisoned
    You will take 2 damage whenever you miss (6 or lower) until a cure is found.
    You gain 50 experience, Jacyth.
    Geth roll 1d6+1 for Bennu

    —————

    The sun rises once more, and with it the night is vanquished!
    Everyone gains 25 experience.


    The air is cold and fresh. Still cloudy, but the dawn has broken their ranks, for now at least. Trees sway in a gentle breeze, golden light dancing through the rich green of pine intermingled with broad oak and thin beech.

    A thousand insects lift off from the puddles. They shine like fragments of gemstone, beautiful and alien. The puddles are strewn with cast off bodies and wilting, brown flora.

    Crows emerge from the nearby forest to feast on them while they are still slow and unsure of their wings. They snatch them from the air playfully, paying not one of you mind.

    Sir Emory has found a wooden statuette, a sodden book and a small bell in a basket inside the central hut. He is a good dog.

    The undead looks false in the light, like a revolting puppet, like the sculpture of a madman. It’s body is already beginning to decompose, as if the sun itself had an effect in the corpse—and perhaps it does. Jacyth vomits in front of it, then holds her sides in pain.



    Bennu:
    1d6+1 5 [1d6=4]

    Endless_Serpents on
  • GlaziusGlazius Registered User regular
    Argyle, the Ratcatcher -- HP 7, Armor 1

    Argyle bolted awake at the sound of the gunshot, but after the single death-rattle and the lack of further commotion, he stared at the ceiling of the hut, falling apart. It was a time before he trusted himself to move, especially after Sir Emory brought his latest finds.

    The book was strapped to the outside of his pack, to dry out during the day's march. He stared at the statuette and the bell for a long, long time, until the sun rose.
    Geth, roll 2d6+2 for a memory forgotten.

    He walks outside and half-recoils. The sight is something he forces himself not to be used to.

    "Planned to go hunting today, while the land's still half-friendly," he says to Jacyth. "Probably I better go spotting herbs instead?"

    a memory forgotten:
    2d6+2 9 [2d6=5, 2]

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Only Argyle may read this:
    The events weren’t quite right. You’d have been younger in the dream, but you appeared as you are now. Your relation to Oscar is for you to decide, but your answer will be the truth. Your memory of his face is faded, you’re positive you couldn’t pick him out in a crowd if he survived. Your dream was not in any way affected by the undead outside.

    Having considered the items, you can see they are religious in nature.
    The statuette is a feminine figure with six wings artfully covering her nudity.
    The bell reminds you of the great warding bells the cities of the west rung throughout the night to stave off the Night Plague. It’s very finely made, there are even circles of holy scripture embossed inside it.
    Having not opened the book, you can only assume its nature. Probably a holy book, though you’ve not much use for that, Argyle.

    With survival, you will find a couple of rations no matter what you roll, whether you’re just after food or something in particular.

    Endless_Serpents on
  • Albino BunnyAlbino Bunny Jackie Registered User regular
    Jacyth resented the rising sun. Shimmering in her eyes, blinding her already bleary vision. Spitting blood to the side before she cleared her throat. Reaching up to tug her hat down to cover her view. Left with just the dirt and her current predicament.

    "Aye, herbs will do, my bag should have a book of cures in," she offered. Happy to stay crumpled for now as the ache filled her body.

  • GlaziusGlazius Registered User regular
    Argyle, the Ratcatcher -- HP 7, Armor 1

    "You have much traffic with the gods, miss? Seems these folk did in life, for all the good it's done them." Argyle sets the statuette down on a flat, dry stone and hangs the bell from its neck. They'd probably be better tools in the hands of a believer.

    He goes to look through Jacyth's book. "Hope this thing's got pictures as well or it'll go poorly for me. I'll take someone and go skimming during the day's walk. If you can walk. If you can't, maybe we're in more of a hurry."

    --

    Volunteers to be part of a 4-2 party split? :twisted:

  • SuperRuperSuperRuper Registered User regular
    Corvus -- HP 5, Armor 1

    Corvus emerged from his sleep at the sound of the gunfire, but by the time he found his bearings the creature was dealt with. He cursed himself. He eyed Jacyth doubled over in pain and rushed over in case she needed aid. Seeing no noticable wounds, he relaxed a bit and began to consider his limited knowledge of useful herbs.

    As he thought, Corvus couldn't help but stare at the air around him as the crows performed their morning feast. It was a beautiful and macabre dance through the damp clearing. He was pulled out of his head as he saw Argyle set down the objects on the stone and heard his call.

    "I will go and help. Herbalism may not be my strong suit but with some direction I'm sure we can find something for a salve."

    steam_sig.png
    PSN: ChemENGR
  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    dbkgut8fjd2m.jpeg

    Continuing to follow the old road is the most obvious course of action. True, it curves around a high ridge, but it does more or less head east. Perhaps instead you’ll head north through the forest, though surely that will lead further away from the Crimson City, to the area you could have ventured in place of the road. You may move directly east by climbing the ridge, though you’ll need more than your bare hands—a single mistake once half way would send you plummeting to your death.

    —————

    You will find no more on this stretch of the road than described below:

    To your immediate south a halberd is stuck fast in the mud of a pool about knee deep.
    Greencrest Halberd — Both spear and axe, a weapon of the skilled. — 1d6+2 damage. Requires both hands to wield.

    The eastern hut holds a piece of chalk, an empty coin purse and two torches.

    —————

    Having read Jacyth’s curative tome, a patchwork thing strung together, the work of many a witch over time, you agree all you’ll need is:
    Gravethorn Root.
    Spire Sage.
    Petals of an Fillian’s Wish flower, though you’ve never seen such a thing.
    A worm, to be held in the victim’s mouth, which will thus transfer the poison to them.


    Wherever you might be travelling, I’ll ask Argyle to search for supplies at an appropriate point, with Corvus providing them +1 to the roll on top of any bonus they might have. When you search for supplies, Argyle and Corvus, you will be away from the rest of the group.

    Endless_Serpents on
  • AuralynxAuralynx Darkness is a perspective Watching the ego workRegistered User regular
    Ephraim, the Exorcist 6/6 hp, 1 armor.

    After waking in confusion and arriving too late to be any help with the creature haunting the huts, Ephraim collects the usable items from the eastern one and spends some time contemplating how best to dispose of the creature's remains.

    Geth roll 2d6+1 for Ghost Disposal Insights

    Ghost Disposal Insights:
    2d6+1 7 [2d6=4, 2]

    kshu0oba7xnr.png

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Fire is the strongest means of purging evil from a place or body. Though perhaps making ash of any thing destroys it. The huts themselves would make a grand blaze.

    You could bury it, conduct a funeral of sorts, though you doubt most would be willing to waste time on it, certainly not Jacyth. Proper burial has always been the first defence against the rising of undead.

    Leave it for the crows, part of you thinks, Ephraim.

    As you consider your options an insect lands on your forearm, glittering blue and green.


    Endless_Serpents on
  • AuralynxAuralynx Darkness is a perspective Watching the ego workRegistered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Ephraim, the Exorcist 6/6, 1 armor

    Ephraim swats at the insect while considering the matter and then carefully, with the gloves from his armor donned, drags the body of the creature into one of the huts and sets it ablaze. He takes any help offered or necessary.

    Why this thing, and not the beasts? The monoliths near the lake had been ancient, the huts recent; the creature might rise again if left here, but the wolves had been drawn to something ancient someone else had failed to purge.

    Auralynx on
    kshu0oba7xnr.png

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    You gain witnesses rather than help as you feverishly set to task. Soon the flames writhe a wild dance, thick smoke races skyward. The heat is monsterous.

    You take your duty as an exorcist zealously, it’s been said, but it’s a good work. You long dropped any unnecessary mystisms, you’ve tempered your skills into a hammer.

    SOUL APPEASED
    You gain 50 experience, Ephraim.

    The crows have had their fill and the quicker of the insects have fled for parts unknown. This area is no place to stay any longer, the only worthwhile object remaining is the halberd.

  • MatevMatev Cero Miedo Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Solvan Sant, Hunter. 12 HP, Weary, 200XP

    Solvan's night had passed in oblivion, but it was by no means peaceful. The unease of this ground unnerved him, even as he readied to move on. Ephraim's burning brought some small solace, knowing another soul of this land would know peace.

    The hunter's gaze finally fell to the ridge, sizing it up. While difficult, traversing it could speed them closer to the Crimson Citadel. Options needed to be weighed.

    Matev on
    "Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
    Hail Hydra
  • GlaziusGlazius Registered User regular
    Argyle, the Ratcatcher -- HP 7, Armor 1

    Argyle looks up at the ledge, weighs the supplies. "Should probably keep to the road while we have someone to care for," he says, finally.

  • KirindalKirindal Registered User regular
    Bennu the Wanderer - HP 2, XP: 25

    'I would have to agree with him. Jacyth's in no fit shape to be climbing.' Bennu eyed Jacyth with some concern. Although she was on her feet, there was that unsteadiness even an unpracticed eye could noticed. "The road may be long, but it'll provide plenty of time to recuperate." He walked closer to Jacyth to study her, he had some learning on remedies. Perhaps there was something more he could do to lessen her suffering.

    Geth roll 2d6+1 for Palliative know-how

    Palliative know-how:
    2d6+1 8 [2d6=6, 1]

  • Endless_SerpentsEndless_Serpents Registered User regular
    edited November 2018
    Points well made by Bennu and Argyle. If any other one of you choose the road you’ll all be heading that way.

    Bennu, your wrists itch as you study the witch.
    You own:
    Cleansing Bracelets — From a fallen kingdom, a genuine divine artefact. — Halve damage from poison.

    The sky turns a sullen grey as clouds roll overhead, contrasting the sharp orange glow of the pyre. The wind is picking up and ash swirls about, clinging to your clothes.







    Endless_Serpents on
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