InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
[sblock=Alnar]
I'll need an Acrobatics and a second Stealth check for that.
[/sblock]
I'll need an Acrobatics and a second Stealth check for that.
[/sblock]
[Living Pathfinder]The Green Faerie
InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
|
InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
|
InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
[sblock=Alnar]
The carriage travels along streets and across bridges, arriving in front of an old, ruined temple. The carriage stops, and Maschera moves to step out...
And begins to sing a beautiful, moving melody. Her voice falls over you like a wave of silk in the summer rain...
(Will save, please)
[/sblock]
The party sans Alnar returns to the Dunn Wright Inn, gathered in the back room. It grows late, and everyone grows sleepy.
There is a sudden sound of commotion just outside the door to the room.
The carriage travels along streets and across bridges, arriving in front of an old, ruined temple. The carriage stops, and Maschera moves to step out...
And begins to sing a beautiful, moving melody. Her voice falls over you like a wave of silk in the summer rain...
(Will save, please)
[/sblock]
The party sans Alnar returns to the Dunn Wright Inn, gathered in the back room. It grows late, and everyone grows sleepy.
There is a sudden sound of commotion just outside the door to the room.
InVinoVeritas
Adventurer
[sblock=Alnar]
A ghostly reverie descends upon Alnar as Maschera emerges from the cabin. The sound of her voice sends chills down his spine, across his body, and out his fingertips in a numbingly serene fashion. The world seems to melt away, only that beautiful sound of her voice remaining.
Yet the large figures emerging from the temple, huge swords and axes drawn, return the sorcerer to reality in an instant, and he shrugs off the music's effect easily.
The carriage driver turns to face Alnar. A slender bow is in his hands--no, her hands, Alnar realizes. Her tusked, orcish face grins as she points an arrow at Alnar and commands, "Do not move."
Maschera continues walking toward the temple, slowly, dreamlike.
[/sblock]
Back at the Dunn Wright Inn...
The door to the back room bursts open, and three orcs rush inside, wielding huge, wicked axes. Immediately following them, a female elf languorously strides into the room. She wears an olive-green ballgown festooned with living ivy, and a ragged pair of blue butterfly wings adorn her back.
Abzienta.
She speaks, a deep, husky voice assaulting your ears.
"I am Abzienta. You will ignore the Opera and avoid House Gabbiano. Maschera belongs to me, now."
[sblock=credit]
Photo by Ariann.
[/sblock]
A ghostly reverie descends upon Alnar as Maschera emerges from the cabin. The sound of her voice sends chills down his spine, across his body, and out his fingertips in a numbingly serene fashion. The world seems to melt away, only that beautiful sound of her voice remaining.
Yet the large figures emerging from the temple, huge swords and axes drawn, return the sorcerer to reality in an instant, and he shrugs off the music's effect easily.
The carriage driver turns to face Alnar. A slender bow is in his hands--no, her hands, Alnar realizes. Her tusked, orcish face grins as she points an arrow at Alnar and commands, "Do not move."
Maschera continues walking toward the temple, slowly, dreamlike.
[/sblock]
Back at the Dunn Wright Inn...
The door to the back room bursts open, and three orcs rush inside, wielding huge, wicked axes. Immediately following them, a female elf languorously strides into the room. She wears an olive-green ballgown festooned with living ivy, and a ragged pair of blue butterfly wings adorn her back.
Abzienta.
She speaks, a deep, husky voice assaulting your ears.
"I am Abzienta. You will ignore the Opera and avoid House Gabbiano. Maschera belongs to me, now."
[sblock=credit]
Photo by Ariann.
[/sblock]
Last edited:
Walking Dad
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