The High Road - Obsolete!




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  1. #1
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    The High Road - Obsolete!

    Durindal, Jhalthus, Grandfather
    You've been thrown aboard the Treylana transport "Allerion" to bring you to the infamous prison-mote, known primarily as "The Rock". It is located far below the Core of the Empire, below the plane of the sun. You are locked in your own cell in the brig which holds 6 cells.

    You see a Minotaur, a Drow, a Deva, and an Elf the the other cells. There is an Eladrin guard in a small room that is off of the one passage.

    This is a very large vessel, possibly to the point of actually launching other ships, practically a small mote in and of itself. There is a blaring noise and the sleeping guard wakes up and hastily arranges his armor and spear and moves into the hallway, just around a corner. The door to the smalll room is just slightly ajar, as if he meant to close it, but was too rushed. Your cells are locked, and as with most eladrin facilities, you see the signs of a surrounding cold iron cage that blocks escape.


    Mykos
    You thought you were being hired to pilot the craft. Spelljamming helmsman, now that might have some promise as a new direction. No Experience Necessary? To Good To be True? Actually yeah. The Captain, Kalrane, HATES mages of any sort. He has you strapped into a helmchair that is crippled. You can't pilot the ship, you're just powering the engines. They've got you alternating with a tiefling wizard who does not speak common, and are guarded with a few unsavory human sailors. The gith are the elite here, and you, are fuel.

    You've bee sitting in the helm chair for some time now, but are suddenly awakened by one of the Gith that hired you. Wake up, mage. We're about to surprise a huge target and if this gets messy and we are boarded I need you to guard the chair. I'll leave a few thugs for support.

    The gith leaves the room.


    Mrs. Ragedaughter
    You're locked in the galley. It's right outside the helm room. You over heard Mykos's conversation with the gith. You know there is a fight about to go down and the gith want you in here.
    Last edited by Charwoman Gene; Tuesday, 23rd June, 2009 at 06:48 PM. Reason: Reboot
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    Mykos, Half Elf warlock

    "Great. Another great day in a great life." Mykos grumbles to himself. "Yes, and why I'm your familiar again. Yes, yes, wisdom and glory. Now move on and see if you can change our employment. This is the most disgusting job you had taken so far!" squawks the parrot on his shoulder, using the arcane voice, only his master understands.

    OOC


    Mini stat block

    Mykos
    Perception: 11 Insight: 13 Low-light Vision
    AC 17 Fortitude 16 Reflex 15 Will 15
    Hit Points: 40/40 Bloodied: 20
    Temporary Hit Points: 0
    Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1
    Healing Surge: 10 Surges per day: 10/10
    Active Vestige: Zutwa
    Familiar Mode: Passive
    At-Will Powers: Eldritch Blast, Eye of the Vestige
    Encounter Powers: Clarion Call, Misdirected Mark (Bard), Vestiges' Calamity, Ethereal Stride
    Daily Powers: Vestige of Mount Vaelis

    Last edited by Walking Dad; Tuesday, 16th June, 2009 at 09:05 AM.
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    Grandfather waited. It was something he had a knack for. There would come an opportune moment, sooner or later. A vigilant mind would see that moment and seize on it, while giving no hint as to its intentions beforehand. So he waited.

    They'd taken most of his things and left him clad only in a rough brown cassock and his hooded cloak. He could pass for a penitent friar, or beggar, kneeling in the straw with his head and face hidden under his cowl, body concealed in his shapeless garb. Privately he lamented that they hadn't even left him a walking stick or ordinary cane or staff. They had no respect for their elders.

    Granted, he could have been more careful. The young years were always the hardest for him. All the frantic energy of youth, and the heady feeling of power without ACTUAL power to back it up. He had a great deal of time left in this incarnation before he picked from the mists of memory the secrets and mysteries he'd mastered before. Until then he was vulnerable. As his current predicament showed.

    But he was patient. Sooner or later, his captors would slip up in some small way...or some other opportunity would present itself. He could wait. He had all the time in the world.

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    Durindal (Elven Avenger)

    He was still live . . . and for that he and his god were grateful. Being a prisoner heading toward the Rock was not how he had envisioned the rest of his days going. Durindal had thought he would have died in the purge, as the few remaining followers of his god were persecuted and killed, but he hadn't . . . and not for a lack of trying.

    Luck, and getting knocked unconscious for a few days probably kept him alive. Durindal awakened to a splitting headache, and a couple of neighbors, also in cells. The loud blaring noise did nothing for his head, but it did wake him.

    "Owwww," the elf complained rubbing his head and looking around. "A cell . . . so not a bad dream. Great, just great."

    "Oh . . . hello there, my friends," Durindal offered glancing from side to side. "The name's Durindal."

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    Jhalthus Lhor came to conciousness and immediately reached for a weapon that was no longer at his side. The minotaur looked around, seeing that he was imprisoned. The chains kept Lhor from raging at the bars that surrounded him. At least he wasn't alone.

    Lhor looked around at the others also imprisoned. This was a motley crew of prisoners, that much was certain. Lhor examined the talkative elf in the adjacent cell and smirked.

    "Friends?" he asked. "I have few friends left, and sadly, I cannot count you among them. Not yet."
    Leaving EN World for the land of novel writing. I'll be back someday.

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    "Excuse me dears, aren't you forgetting someone?"
    Mrs Ragedaughter calls through the door.

    just in case none of the nice gith can hear her, or if they don't realize this is all a little miss-understanding, she readies to make it a BIG miss-understanding.

    She will set up to charge the door into the helm, waiting for an impact or the sounds of battle to be joined.
    Game Quote:
    "Sir is not allowed into the dance, because you don't have an invitation, your wearing a dress, and its covered in poo."

    "You all are the worst emissaries, ever!" the silver dragon declares, shaking with rage.
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    Durindal (Elven Avenger)

    Durindal look up at the minotaur from sitting on his cot, nodding his head. "Understandable . . . I've always been a fair judge of a situation," Durindal offered. "I'm in a cage . . . you're in a cage. I'm thinking we'd both rather be out of the cage . . . all of us."

    Durindal knew he could teleport out of the cell . . . but he needed someone to attack him. Maybe he didn't need the minotaur to be his friend . . . at least until they got out of the cages.

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    ooc: are the thugs already there, or am I waiting for them?
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    Grandfather shifted slightly at the elf's, Durindal's, words.

    "Out of your cell, hm?" he asks in a gravelly voice. "Haven't really thought your 'plan' through, have you? We're in a ship packed with warriors and guards, crossing through empty space with nothing between us and the Maw. Once you get out of your cell, what then? Fight the horde?" He chuckles thickly. "Capture the prison barge? Rule the earthmotes as god-emperor? As long as you're fantasizing...might as well make it a good one."

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    Quote Originally Posted by Walking Dad View Post
    ooc: are the thugs already there, or am I waiting for them?
    The thugs are there.
    New Sig Rules are lame, and I am cheap.

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