Jraynack
Explorer
Here is an excerpt of the upcoming Shew Stone Adventure. More details of the adventure is found on this THREAD.
David, a gnome of no meager power, perked his nose upward in the sweltering heat. Something peaked his curiosity, a sweet fragrance, and an irresistible fragrance. Without a thought, the gnome moved down the dark, ancient Romas street, putting much space between him and his comrades.
The River King, a man of means and exploiter of circumstance, stood still. He too, like the others, took note of the fragrance, but it seems to only take hold for the small one. "David," he called, "I thought the old magic you sensed is in the other direction . . . David?"
Syrianna, noble by birth, fist of the church, cared not for the influencing fragrance that almost enveloped her as well. It reminded her of something she heard, when questioning Lord Alcott, the man who last saw Calmar the Swift Mind alive.
"He was a quite, cunning man with a shrewd eye and a nose for what people truly desire. It is almost as if he could read their thoughts–that is how he came by his moniker. My father thoroughly enjoyed his company, not just the treasures he found for him. It has been nearly seventy-five years since I have seen him–I was just a lad of fifteen. The most I remember about him was he Calmar the Swift Mind brought my father and I the most intoxicating fruit I have ever eaten. I can close my eyes and almost taste it. The smell of it was almost hypnotic."
"Something is not right", whispered Syrianna to her comrades. The whole place unsettled her - an ancient Romas street sunk beneath the ground centuries ago due to a volcanic earthquake. Hot steam poured from fissures, sulfurous fountains, intense heat began to make her uncomfortable and tired, and skeletal remains fused together from the catastrophe as their brains boiled within their skulls - "No, something is not right. River, get David before he gets to far. By the Saints," she cursed, "I see something moving beyond this fountain."
Three shadowy figures moved into view. "I need your sword arm here, River. We will need to get David after this is settled." This is not good, she thought.
Two servants crouched in shadows; anxious though they were, they awaited the bidding of their mistress. The noble woman emerged from the sweltering darkness with fine, rich features: a supple nose line, high cheekbones, and a soft skin.
“I am Camilla, and though I am thrilled, I was not inspecting guests. The last gentleman to call upon me burdened me with a sumptuous gift of two noble men with fine skin, and then disappeared. I have waited a long time for him to return, but nonetheless you shall dine in his stead. I for one deserve a rich meal, but must satisfy what fortune brings me. I do truly apologize, for I am as presentable for the moment as I possibly can be. We, after all, are what we eat."
She turned completely to Syrianna to reveal the other half of her face: her flesh covered in the flea infested rat fur; a spiny, pink tail dangling from her cheek bone; bits of dog and cat flesh covering most the rest of her body while an area without skin revealed strong, sinewy muscle. Her servants moving from the shadows look very similar, though one is completely skinless, only wet muscle holds her body together.
All three salivate as they moved closer. The light from David’s torch slipped from view as the gnome disappeared further down the underground street, his senses wholly captivated by the intoxicating, sweet fragrance.
Syrianna sighed: "St. Ffraid, I pray you protect the small one 'til I am able to get him." She then drew her sword and readied her shield before calling to the noble abomination before her, "Camilla, is it? Your gods are dead - you must pray to St. Ffraid if you seek mercy from my sword." She and River charged.
David, a gnome of no meager power, perked his nose upward in the sweltering heat. Something peaked his curiosity, a sweet fragrance, and an irresistible fragrance. Without a thought, the gnome moved down the dark, ancient Romas street, putting much space between him and his comrades.
The River King, a man of means and exploiter of circumstance, stood still. He too, like the others, took note of the fragrance, but it seems to only take hold for the small one. "David," he called, "I thought the old magic you sensed is in the other direction . . . David?"
Syrianna, noble by birth, fist of the church, cared not for the influencing fragrance that almost enveloped her as well. It reminded her of something she heard, when questioning Lord Alcott, the man who last saw Calmar the Swift Mind alive.
"He was a quite, cunning man with a shrewd eye and a nose for what people truly desire. It is almost as if he could read their thoughts–that is how he came by his moniker. My father thoroughly enjoyed his company, not just the treasures he found for him. It has been nearly seventy-five years since I have seen him–I was just a lad of fifteen. The most I remember about him was he Calmar the Swift Mind brought my father and I the most intoxicating fruit I have ever eaten. I can close my eyes and almost taste it. The smell of it was almost hypnotic."
"Something is not right", whispered Syrianna to her comrades. The whole place unsettled her - an ancient Romas street sunk beneath the ground centuries ago due to a volcanic earthquake. Hot steam poured from fissures, sulfurous fountains, intense heat began to make her uncomfortable and tired, and skeletal remains fused together from the catastrophe as their brains boiled within their skulls - "No, something is not right. River, get David before he gets to far. By the Saints," she cursed, "I see something moving beyond this fountain."
Three shadowy figures moved into view. "I need your sword arm here, River. We will need to get David after this is settled." This is not good, she thought.
Two servants crouched in shadows; anxious though they were, they awaited the bidding of their mistress. The noble woman emerged from the sweltering darkness with fine, rich features: a supple nose line, high cheekbones, and a soft skin.
“I am Camilla, and though I am thrilled, I was not inspecting guests. The last gentleman to call upon me burdened me with a sumptuous gift of two noble men with fine skin, and then disappeared. I have waited a long time for him to return, but nonetheless you shall dine in his stead. I for one deserve a rich meal, but must satisfy what fortune brings me. I do truly apologize, for I am as presentable for the moment as I possibly can be. We, after all, are what we eat."
She turned completely to Syrianna to reveal the other half of her face: her flesh covered in the flea infested rat fur; a spiny, pink tail dangling from her cheek bone; bits of dog and cat flesh covering most the rest of her body while an area without skin revealed strong, sinewy muscle. Her servants moving from the shadows look very similar, though one is completely skinless, only wet muscle holds her body together.
All three salivate as they moved closer. The light from David’s torch slipped from view as the gnome disappeared further down the underground street, his senses wholly captivated by the intoxicating, sweet fragrance.
Syrianna sighed: "St. Ffraid, I pray you protect the small one 'til I am able to get him." She then drew her sword and readied her shield before calling to the noble abomination before her, "Camilla, is it? Your gods are dead - you must pray to St. Ffraid if you seek mercy from my sword." She and River charged.
