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[Stargate SG-1 RPG] Part III - The Enemy of my Friend . . .
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<blockquote data-quote="Keia" data-source="post: 1445549" data-attributes="member: 98"><p><strong>Final Interlude</strong></p><p></p><p><em>Stargate Platform and Courtyard</em></p><p><em>P7X - 912</em></p><p><em>16 minutes since arrival, June 3, 2003</em></p><p></p><p>Jeremiah wiped the Brass plaque with the sleeve of his camo fatigues. The form was obviously runic in nature, perhaps a dialect of ancient gaelic or norwegian. As Jeremiah knelt before the statue working on the plaque and trying to decipher the text, he felt a chill pass over him. The hackles on his neck rose and he had the strangest sensation that he was being watched.</p><p></p><p>His mind, distracted by the feeling, worked unimpeded and Jeremiah was successful in translating the Script<span style="color: red">**</span></p><p></p><p>"Place Your Fate in Our Hands and Accept the Judgment of the Giants"</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Silver">OOC: Grayson</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: red">**<span style="font-size: 9px">Used one action die of Jeremiah's (two remaining) for a Xeno-Languages check based off of Jeremiah's Gaelic language skill (+2 to Xeno-Languages check (synergy) + 4 Intelligence + 7 from Action die + roll of 16 for a total of 29. Made it by 4!!)</span></span></p><p></p><p>---------------</p><p></p><p></p><p>---------------</p><p></p><p><em>Stargate Platform and Courtyard</em></p><p><em>P7X - 912</em></p><p><em>18 minutes since arrival, June 3, 2003</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>For several moments, Jeremiah waited for something to happen . . . nothing did. He felt a cool breeze from somewhere . . but there were no open arches nearby. Well, no surprise that the place would be drafty with all of the stone. Not surprising because, except for the heavy pelts covering the doors, Jeremiah hadn't seem anything else organic, living or not. </p><p></p><p>Still he waited and . . . nothing. Finally, Jeremiah stood up in front of the statue and almost bumped his head on the outstretched arms of the statue - arms out with the palms upraised . . . and within reach.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Silver">OOC: Grayson</span></p><p></p><p>---------------</p><p></p><p></p><p>---------------</p><p><em>Stargate Platform and Courtyard</em></p><p><em>P7X - 912</em></p><p><em>19 minutes since arrival, June 3, 2003</em></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>As Jeremiah placed his hands on the statue’s hands, he felt a tingling and a beam of light covered him, temporarily blinding him. With a triple sound of air rapidly passing over him, the tingling suffused his body. After three more such sounds, the light disappeared. </p><p></p><p>After a moment of rapid blinking Jeremiah’s vision returned. Before him was an eight foot tall humanoid, skin pale and thick. The creature wore a fur loin cloth for its only clothes and a brass torc on its arm. It’s right hand had a metal device on it, finger tips encased in the metal, bands connecting in the palm and around the wrist, a crystal in the center of the palm.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: PaleGreen">“Greetings, mortal,”</span> the creature spoke in Gaelic. His voice was deep and sonorous, <span style="color: PaleGreen">“I am Medraut, I have been expecting you . . . though I expected more little ones like you.”</span></p><p></p><p>The room had glistening rough walls of a rounded room with two tunnels leading out of the room. There were no windows and the light for the room appeared to be coming from all around.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Silver">OOC: Grayson</span></p><p></p><p>---------------</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>End Interlude</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Keia, post: 1445549, member: 98"] [b]Final Interlude[/b] [i]Stargate Platform and Courtyard P7X - 912 16 minutes since arrival, June 3, 2003[/i] Jeremiah wiped the Brass plaque with the sleeve of his camo fatigues. The form was obviously runic in nature, perhaps a dialect of ancient gaelic or norwegian. As Jeremiah knelt before the statue working on the plaque and trying to decipher the text, he felt a chill pass over him. The hackles on his neck rose and he had the strangest sensation that he was being watched. His mind, distracted by the feeling, worked unimpeded and Jeremiah was successful in translating the Script[color=red]**[/color] "Place Your Fate in Our Hands and Accept the Judgment of the Giants" [COLOR=Silver]OOC: Grayson[/COLOR] [color=red]**[size=1]Used one action die of Jeremiah's (two remaining) for a Xeno-Languages check based off of Jeremiah's Gaelic language skill (+2 to Xeno-Languages check (synergy) + 4 Intelligence + 7 from Action die + roll of 16 for a total of 29. Made it by 4!!)[/size][/color][size=1][/size] --------------- --------------- [i]Stargate Platform and Courtyard P7X - 912 18 minutes since arrival, June 3, 2003[/i] For several moments, Jeremiah waited for something to happen . . . nothing did. He felt a cool breeze from somewhere . . but there were no open arches nearby. Well, no surprise that the place would be drafty with all of the stone. Not surprising because, except for the heavy pelts covering the doors, Jeremiah hadn't seem anything else organic, living or not. Still he waited and . . . nothing. Finally, Jeremiah stood up in front of the statue and almost bumped his head on the outstretched arms of the statue - arms out with the palms upraised . . . and within reach. [COLOR=Silver]OOC: Grayson[/COLOR] --------------- --------------- [i]Stargate Platform and Courtyard P7X - 912 19 minutes since arrival, June 3, 2003[/i] As Jeremiah placed his hands on the statue’s hands, he felt a tingling and a beam of light covered him, temporarily blinding him. With a triple sound of air rapidly passing over him, the tingling suffused his body. After three more such sounds, the light disappeared. After a moment of rapid blinking Jeremiah’s vision returned. Before him was an eight foot tall humanoid, skin pale and thick. The creature wore a fur loin cloth for its only clothes and a brass torc on its arm. It’s right hand had a metal device on it, finger tips encased in the metal, bands connecting in the palm and around the wrist, a crystal in the center of the palm. [COLOR=PaleGreen]“Greetings, mortal,”[/COLOR] the creature spoke in Gaelic. His voice was deep and sonorous, [COLOR=PaleGreen]“I am Medraut, I have been expecting you . . . though I expected more little ones like you.”[/COLOR] The room had glistening rough walls of a rounded room with two tunnels leading out of the room. There were no windows and the light for the room appeared to be coming from all around. [COLOR=Silver]OOC: Grayson[/COLOR] --------------- [B]End Interlude[/B] [/QUOTE]
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[Stargate SG-1 RPG] Part III - The Enemy of my Friend . . .
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