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covaithe's E1: Death's Reach
- Thread starter covaithe
- Start date
Lord Sessadore
Explorer
Sarenax glances over when Batin suddenly appears in the room, and when he recognizes the shadar-kai gives him a nod of recognition. "Batin." Then Kylek arrives and comes up the stairs. "Kylek ... what an impromptu reunion. Kalas has been recreated by the Raven Queen, and has lost the memories of his past life in the process."
The ebony dragonborn then turns to Kalas to begin to explain. "We were all companions, once. You, myself, Kylek, and Orelal. Many years ago we fought alongside each other, aiding an army in battle against a Demon Lord. During this battle, Orelal earned the name 'Massacre' for himself. Batin was not there. He is ... more elusive, though most of us have had associations with him."
Sarenax pauses for a moment, then sheathes his scythe. "Several years ago Orelal built this tower, and the four of us in this room came and lent him our aid for the warding rituals. That was the last time I saw any of you, and you were still living, Kalas. Which leads me to the question," his violet eyes move over the other two occupants of the room, "why are we all here? I do not believe this meeting is mere chance. What has brought the rest of you back to this tower?"
[sblock=OOC]I'd love to jump on the visualization bandwagon here, but for some reason it's hard to find pictures of pitch-black dragonborn with scythes ... fancy that.
They say a wizard is never late, but ... where is he? He can't get lost in his own tower, can he?
[/sblock]
The ebony dragonborn then turns to Kalas to begin to explain. "We were all companions, once. You, myself, Kylek, and Orelal. Many years ago we fought alongside each other, aiding an army in battle against a Demon Lord. During this battle, Orelal earned the name 'Massacre' for himself. Batin was not there. He is ... more elusive, though most of us have had associations with him."
Sarenax pauses for a moment, then sheathes his scythe. "Several years ago Orelal built this tower, and the four of us in this room came and lent him our aid for the warding rituals. That was the last time I saw any of you, and you were still living, Kalas. Which leads me to the question," his violet eyes move over the other two occupants of the room, "why are we all here? I do not believe this meeting is mere chance. What has brought the rest of you back to this tower?"
[sblock=OOC]I'd love to jump on the visualization bandwagon here, but for some reason it's hard to find pictures of pitch-black dragonborn with scythes ... fancy that.
They say a wizard is never late, but ... where is he? He can't get lost in his own tower, can he?
[/sblock]
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Lord Sessadore
Explorer
[sblock=OOC]Sorry Stonegod, missed that. I edited my little speech a bit - sound better?[/sblock]
Oni
First Post
As Sarenax matter of factually explained the situation, Kylek studied the black dragonborn's features looking for some hint of emotion. Finding none Kylek merely scowled, a low rumbling growl rolling up from the depths of his chest and slipping out with a curl of frost. Sarenax had always been a cold one.
Kylek spared only a glance toward the mysterious shadar-kai at the mention of his name. His presence was intriguing but that could wait for later. Kylek's attention instead turned to Kalas. The huge alabaster dragonborn advanced toward him, til the point of the human's sword rested against his thick chest. His pale eyes burned with intensity as he examined Kalas, searching for a hint of his old self. After a long moment, with no insight forthcoming, he stepped back with a snort and then a long rumbling sigh.
Kalas...you've looked better.
Kylek was silent for a moment before speaking again, and though his words were directed elsewhere he did not take his eyes off of Kalas.
It was dreams that brought me here Sarenax, dark dreams. I have come to seek Massacre's insights.
Finally he looked away from his one time compatriot, glancing around the chamber his voice edged with impatience.
Where is that wizard?
Kylek spared only a glance toward the mysterious shadar-kai at the mention of his name. His presence was intriguing but that could wait for later. Kylek's attention instead turned to Kalas. The huge alabaster dragonborn advanced toward him, til the point of the human's sword rested against his thick chest. His pale eyes burned with intensity as he examined Kalas, searching for a hint of his old self. After a long moment, with no insight forthcoming, he stepped back with a snort and then a long rumbling sigh.
Kalas...you've looked better.
Kylek was silent for a moment before speaking again, and though his words were directed elsewhere he did not take his eyes off of Kalas.
It was dreams that brought me here Sarenax, dark dreams. I have come to seek Massacre's insights.
Finally he looked away from his one time compatriot, glancing around the chamber his voice edged with impatience.
Where is that wizard?
CaBaNa
First Post
[sblock=As the guests arrive]
Orelal finished donning his adventuring vestments, he felt the familiar tingle in his nethers (a good idea, when he still had the requisite parts), that meant someone or something, was entering without permission...
Viewing the scene from his eye above the tower, Massacre watched an Undead, upon a very angry nightmare, ride straight as you will, through the boneyard maze... Ignore the dense fog... Walk right up to the (switching to the front door view) front door... and... IGOR LET IT IN!!!
Rushing for his door, Massacre grabs the handle and gives it four quick jerks before realizing Igor had to open it... (switching to Teleportation View) The Undead thing walked in and up the stairs, leaving his mount to Igor. The undead creature walked, through the already open door, into the parlor and shouted out Massacre's real name! That was when Massacre realized it was a Revenant...
*Honey... I thought you would be surprised, but sending a servant to kill me over it?*
(switching to Parlor View)
*It already has it's weapons drawn, is that a... Silver Sword... It's not as though I'm a Lycanthrope... Blasted Undead... *
When Sarenax walked through the door, Massacre did not breath a sigh of relief, he couldn't breath at all... But that wasn't important for the recently undead wizard. What was important was getting out of his tower and escaping...
The dreams, a big black dragon smiting him... Sarenax was like a big black dragon... Good old fractured mind, giving just subtle enough a warning...
Unfortunately, when Sarenax, with odd speed for his size, withdrew and armed his scythe at the revenant, that blew his theory all to pieces...
*I refuse to vacate my most sacred spire, until some comprehension of this debacle comes, besides Igor is welcoming others, and I haven't the ability to open the door until he gets it for me...*
The wizard lay back down upon his marble alter, momentarily flashing back to Igor removing his liver, and exclaiming something or other about it being perfect for his Uncle... Igor.
Then the view of the parlor butted in, rudely, as Kalas, *Kalas, inevitably that impervious enforcer would be Her chosen hunter...* calmly discussed Massacre's impending doom...
Sarenax then referred to Orelal as serving the Raven Queen, *I don't serve Her, I've MARRIED Her... well if She hasn't kill me first... Thusly I deduce you haven't yet recieved direct orders to destroy me...* Orelal smirks, well as close as a skull can get to smirking, his teeth clacked at an odd angle...
*Ah, Batin, now we are getting somewhen... kind of...*
Kylek's massive form flowing through the door as if hunting the gods themselves, was no comfort to the undead wizard...
*At least they are all calm, and docile, relatively... well... * a complete slip of the present, Massacre in slow agonizing motion, watched the table coming slowly upwards, or was he going down, either way an impact was immanent, glancing back just in time to see the black mass of...
*Creeeeeak*
Mather, the gueth' are getting impathent...
Igor, good, I appreciate you opening the door, Thither to our guests, insure their comfort, I'm already among them, and you've had the foresight to requisition a broom for the terrible mess...
The door standing open, Massacre pulls himself together, reciting as many defensive spells as he can remember. Working his way through every escape route he could take. Considering the safety of his phylactery.
*they won't locate it, and if they do, they haven't the mental aptitude to break the cipher of it's destruction, and if they do, I'll create one anew, whenever I am...
The Archlich gathers himself up, and begins heading for the stairs
[/sblock]
[sblock=Igor]
[/sblock]
Igor loping down the steps inserts himself between the large gentlemen with weapons drawn, The Mather will be with uth thortly, pleathe make yourthelveth comfortable... the scarred servant indicates the weapons still being wielded, the chairs, and finally the hookah, and liquid bars...
Thur, Igor is next to Kalas in an instant, if what Mather Kylek thayth ith true, ith there any thing I could do for you thurgically thpeaking? I'm very handy with the thalpel, could pothibly be finithed before the Mather arriveth...
Just as Igor finishes his sentence, the bottom of a familiar robe appears at the top of the stairs...
The same quite that always accompanied the old Eladrins shuffling gate is heard. His hood is up, and the six foot figure descends the stairs as if frail with age. Hunched over, the obviously aged wizard positions himself in front of the table bearing the hookah.
Stooping down slowly, Massacre removes the large glass base, and all of the contents of the table, before delibrately turning toward his compatriots...
With the items that were on the table safely to the side, the Archlich hood drops as if a spectral hand had pulled it back.
A clean, bleached-white skull sits where once was Orelal's face... His eyes now glowing purple balls of energy, instead of the lilac orbs that once rested in his sockets.
Cheers, says the skull, pronouncing the word much like Massacre had in life. His oddly textured purple and pink robe, blinked, then smoked over, blurring Massacre's figure with the shadows behind him. May I inquire as to the condition of my wife?
Orelal finished donning his adventuring vestments, he felt the familiar tingle in his nethers (a good idea, when he still had the requisite parts), that meant someone or something, was entering without permission...
Viewing the scene from his eye above the tower, Massacre watched an Undead, upon a very angry nightmare, ride straight as you will, through the boneyard maze... Ignore the dense fog... Walk right up to the (switching to the front door view) front door... and... IGOR LET IT IN!!!
Rushing for his door, Massacre grabs the handle and gives it four quick jerks before realizing Igor had to open it... (switching to Teleportation View) The Undead thing walked in and up the stairs, leaving his mount to Igor. The undead creature walked, through the already open door, into the parlor and shouted out Massacre's real name! That was when Massacre realized it was a Revenant...
*Honey... I thought you would be surprised, but sending a servant to kill me over it?*
(switching to Parlor View)
*It already has it's weapons drawn, is that a... Silver Sword... It's not as though I'm a Lycanthrope... Blasted Undead... *
When Sarenax walked through the door, Massacre did not breath a sigh of relief, he couldn't breath at all... But that wasn't important for the recently undead wizard. What was important was getting out of his tower and escaping...
The dreams, a big black dragon smiting him... Sarenax was like a big black dragon... Good old fractured mind, giving just subtle enough a warning...
Unfortunately, when Sarenax, with odd speed for his size, withdrew and armed his scythe at the revenant, that blew his theory all to pieces...
*I refuse to vacate my most sacred spire, until some comprehension of this debacle comes, besides Igor is welcoming others, and I haven't the ability to open the door until he gets it for me...*
The wizard lay back down upon his marble alter, momentarily flashing back to Igor removing his liver, and exclaiming something or other about it being perfect for his Uncle... Igor.
Then the view of the parlor butted in, rudely, as Kalas, *Kalas, inevitably that impervious enforcer would be Her chosen hunter...* calmly discussed Massacre's impending doom...
Sarenax then referred to Orelal as serving the Raven Queen, *I don't serve Her, I've MARRIED Her... well if She hasn't kill me first... Thusly I deduce you haven't yet recieved direct orders to destroy me...* Orelal smirks, well as close as a skull can get to smirking, his teeth clacked at an odd angle...
*Ah, Batin, now we are getting somewhen... kind of...*
Kylek's massive form flowing through the door as if hunting the gods themselves, was no comfort to the undead wizard...
*At least they are all calm, and docile, relatively... well... * a complete slip of the present, Massacre in slow agonizing motion, watched the table coming slowly upwards, or was he going down, either way an impact was immanent, glancing back just in time to see the black mass of...
*Creeeeeak*
Mather, the gueth' are getting impathent...
Igor, good, I appreciate you opening the door, Thither to our guests, insure their comfort, I'm already among them, and you've had the foresight to requisition a broom for the terrible mess...
The door standing open, Massacre pulls himself together, reciting as many defensive spells as he can remember. Working his way through every escape route he could take. Considering the safety of his phylactery.
*they won't locate it, and if they do, they haven't the mental aptitude to break the cipher of it's destruction, and if they do, I'll create one anew, whenever I am...
The Archlich gathers himself up, and begins heading for the stairs
[/sblock]
[sblock=Igor]
[/sblock]
Igor loping down the steps inserts himself between the large gentlemen with weapons drawn, The Mather will be with uth thortly, pleathe make yourthelveth comfortable... the scarred servant indicates the weapons still being wielded, the chairs, and finally the hookah, and liquid bars...
Thur, Igor is next to Kalas in an instant, if what Mather Kylek thayth ith true, ith there any thing I could do for you thurgically thpeaking? I'm very handy with the thalpel, could pothibly be finithed before the Mather arriveth...
Just as Igor finishes his sentence, the bottom of a familiar robe appears at the top of the stairs...
The same quite that always accompanied the old Eladrins shuffling gate is heard. His hood is up, and the six foot figure descends the stairs as if frail with age. Hunched over, the obviously aged wizard positions himself in front of the table bearing the hookah.
Stooping down slowly, Massacre removes the large glass base, and all of the contents of the table, before delibrately turning toward his compatriots...
With the items that were on the table safely to the side, the Archlich hood drops as if a spectral hand had pulled it back.
A clean, bleached-white skull sits where once was Orelal's face... His eyes now glowing purple balls of energy, instead of the lilac orbs that once rested in his sockets.
Cheers, says the skull, pronouncing the word much like Massacre had in life. His oddly textured purple and pink robe, blinked, then smoked over, blurring Massacre's figure with the shadows behind him. May I inquire as to the condition of my wife?
Lord Sessadore
Explorer
Seeing the wizard's skull where once was his face finally cracks Sarenax's cool. His eyes widen a fraction, then he takes two swift steps to the wizard. Regaining control, he calmly reaches out, grabs the wizard by the collar, lifts him up ... and smashes him through the recently-cleared table, sending splinters of wood flying across the room to patter agains the walls and the armor of the assembled warriors. That is for your presumption ... calling her Dark Majesty your wife. Fool, he thinks.
Then he stands straight and the scythe appears in his hands again, the blade snapping out as he speaks. "What madness has claimed you, Orelal? If I had known all the preparation was to turn yourself into this ... blasphemy, I never would have lent my aid. You were once a servant of the Raven Queen; now, you are an affront to Her." The sides of the ebony dragonborn's jaw ripple as he clenches his jaw, stopping further words. Then his face clears of any remaining emotion, and calmly he draws the scythe up and to the side, preparing to attack his once-friend. And this is for your betrayal.
[sblock=OOC]I figure, worst case is that Sarenax 'kills' Orelal, turning him to dust, and we have to wait til tomorrow to consult with him. Maybe Kalas will help[/sblock]
Then he stands straight and the scythe appears in his hands again, the blade snapping out as he speaks. "What madness has claimed you, Orelal? If I had known all the preparation was to turn yourself into this ... blasphemy, I never would have lent my aid. You were once a servant of the Raven Queen; now, you are an affront to Her." The sides of the ebony dragonborn's jaw ripple as he clenches his jaw, stopping further words. Then his face clears of any remaining emotion, and calmly he draws the scythe up and to the side, preparing to attack his once-friend. And this is for your betrayal.
[sblock=OOC]I figure, worst case is that Sarenax 'kills' Orelal, turning him to dust, and we have to wait til tomorrow to consult with him. Maybe Kalas will help
[/sblock]
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CaBaNa
First Post
Igor appeared in the entry way, dustpan and broom in hand, as the table exploded.
Massacre during his short flight, decides to try out his new technique. Casting without vocalization or intricate hand motion. In the past destroying his body by mucking up a spell may have been a big deal, but now... His confidence was such that he prepared to cast a Direct Incantation.
The movement from the others in the room seemed frozen as the scythe cut the molecules of air into requisite parts, splinters of wood spun lazily by, the floor had recently become acquainted with Massacre's brittle form, and Sarenax had just finished his speech when...
[sblock=OOC]
Covaithe, clearing a little friendly PvP here...
I'm more than accommodating to Sarenax taking the swing. And anyone else who wishes to get in on the action can jump to as well.
Massacre will use the most appropriate defensive spell for whatever comes his way. But won't take the offensive in any case. Preferring to escape before capture.
Thusly the worst case scenario for the short battle is as LS said, dusty Orelal...
[/sblock]
Massacre during his short flight, decides to try out his new technique. Casting without vocalization or intricate hand motion. In the past destroying his body by mucking up a spell may have been a big deal, but now... His confidence was such that he prepared to cast a Direct Incantation.
The movement from the others in the room seemed frozen as the scythe cut the molecules of air into requisite parts, splinters of wood spun lazily by, the floor had recently become acquainted with Massacre's brittle form, and Sarenax had just finished his speech when...
[sblock=OOC]
Covaithe, clearing a little friendly PvP here...
I'm more than accommodating to Sarenax taking the swing. And anyone else who wishes to get in on the action can jump to as well.
Massacre will use the most appropriate defensive spell for whatever comes his way. But won't take the offensive in any case. Preferring to escape before capture.
Thusly the worst case scenario for the short battle is as LS said, dusty Orelal...
[/sblock]
stonegod
Spawn of Khyber/LEB Judge
In the blink of an eye, Batin and Massacre were one then two again... on other sides of the room. The Shadar-Kai hung a bit more awkwardly in the dragonborn's grasp, but did not seem particularly perturbed..
Perhaps we should speak before blades.
[sblock=OOC]Assuming Massacre considers himself ally enough, Batin can switch places in this little drama.[/sblock]
Perhaps we should speak before blades.
[sblock=OOC]Assuming Massacre considers himself ally enough, Batin can switch places in this little drama.
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