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Otiroth: The Crack The lair was miserable, and Otiroth had to admit: Annit was quite brave, to travel around here on her own. They were here to find the captive, no matter what state or level of friendliness it was, so the growling coming from the direction of the mound was oddly fortuitous...

"If they have a captive, and know we're here- they could very well set an ambush of their own," Otiroth said quietly. He looked troubled, but also, oddly excited. Someone kept in the clutches of demons, if not already mad, would surely have decent information on the creatures, if nothing else...

Otiroth: Crack creeping Otiroth sidled up alongside Metea. For a moment, what he was about to do seemed quite up in the air, as he laid one hand on the small of her back, but they were in far too much of mixed company to do anything particularly exciting. Still, the rustle of unseen feathers...

Otiroth: Crack creeping They would likely need mining tools to get more than dust from these veins- not that gemstone dust wasn't useful. He sensed no real power from the veins, though. Not like he had from the stones that had once been a skeleton's eyes, though. Where had those gone, anyway...

Otiroth: Aftermath Otiroth's blood still boiled, but if he focused, he could bring a bit of cooling refreshment to it all... still, none of it was uncomfortable. In truth, he felt incredible. He remained watching the way they had come, using Dancing Lights to keep things relatively well lit...

Otiroth: Dragons Childhood memories were deceptive creatures. Everything so much larger and brighter, painted in pastels and wreathed in the scent of campfires. Small threats grew to great dragons, and large threats withered into faint nightmares. Otiroth had understood more and more, as the...

Otiroth: Aftermath It was over. Their attackers gone, mingled blood on the ground. But, their comrades were injured! Otiroth moved quickly, some spell-casting to clear an area of any fetid demon blood, give the injured a place to rest. Otiroth was uninjured, and more than that- his blood was...

Otiroth: the shadows His comrades looked in a world of hurt. Through the fear and pain of battle... Otiroth was grateful for them, those that were willing to stand toe-to-toe with these creatures. He knew his own limitations, and he knew well enough that he would not have stood up to their...

Otiroth: Into the shadows Otiroth sluiced another bolt of fire towards the closest demon, wincing as he did so at the sound of tearing flesh. The bolt might've singed a few whiskers, but went wide. A glance over, and Otiroth reached out and gripped Metea's hand tightly. Reassuringly, such as...

Otiroth: Into the shadows A second one? A mate perhaps, each as ugly as the other. Made it difficult to tell the two apart! Their positioning gave Otiroth a decent view of the area below, and that would no doubt assist his aim- a crackling bolt of fire at the one facing down the barbarian...

Otiroth: Into the shadows "Get ahold of yourself, woman!" Otiroth snapped at Jeovanna. The idea of running held little merit- the creature could zap in and out as it pleased, it could torment them if it wished and chase them as well. A circle held more merit- and the rock wall was close enough...

Otiroth: Into the shadows Otiroth grimaced, his expression one of a man who felt on some level that he had survived something not through wisdom or skill, but through chance. It was not a pleasant feeling, though he could not elucidate what it had been. "It is a spell," he'd clarify to...

Otiroth: Into the shadows Otiroth did not answer Metea's musings. Perhaps he was musing himself, perhaps he had no answers, perhaps there was no time for answers. It probably did not matter; they were deep in the mines now, they would find their answers soon enough. The dragon-blooded grimaced...

Otiroth: Beyond the Pit "Necromancy. It was forbidden before magic was forbidden. A firebolt may light a campfire, a Power Word may serve as a last-ditch defense against an invading killer, but necromancy exists to do little more than enslave and torture a lost soul." Otiroth seemed far away...

Otiroth: Beyond the Pit Otiroth stands for a moment aghast, but only a moment. The walking armor had been a mystical curiosity, for certain, but this was a far more visceral threat. Or perhaps visceral was the wrong word? 'Burn it' was his first thought, and one that chased aside any other...

Otiroth: Beyond the Pit So far, nothing but silence and tension. Only a few moments before, they had been so light-hearted! That was all gone in an instant. Otiroth's fingertips traced the stone walls. Unconsciously, he flicked his lips with his tongue, miming a trait he had picked up from he...

Otiroth: Further Down Otiroth had a front row seat, such as it were, to Metea and Jeovanna's brief skirmish. And he had to admit, it was a nice break from the seriousness of the moment. Jeovanna was an imposing woman. Of course, it was hard for anyone to compare to the tiefling, for a multitude...

Otiroth: The second landing "We move on," Otiroth said finally. "If for no other reason than I wish to see sunlight some time before next season." He'd watch the others put together the door stop, and then would join them in their descent.

Otiroth: The Second Landing Otiroth stretched, and watched the two women prod at the door for a moment. They'd been pretty thorough, and if they couldn't hear anything on the other side, well... Carthum was right, as sad as that was to admit. They were not here to loot. But they were here to...

Otiroth: The Second Landing Otiroth watched Metea pick around the room, too. In silence. He'd finally turn back towards Annit, though. "An interesting theory," he agreed. "I have never had the opportunity to see if something in my blood reacts to the magic of Marixian gems. From the old...