[4e] The Wolfcrown, Chapter 1
DistractingFlare
First Post
Suddenly, the room goes dark. Although it's the middle of day, you can see nothing. It's as if even the daylight itself was extinguished. You hear a scream - a cry, and then a clattering. You hear a voice - raspy, bitter, and proud.
"Give it back, you wretches! Give it back!"
In another instant, the lights come on. Before you stands a hooded figure of pale complexion. His features, though partially hidden, emanate an almost otherworldly furor. This is the figure from the courtroom. If what you've heard is correct, this is the man - the god - who set this whole affair in motion.
This is Munsu.
He laughs quietly.
"Give me my sodding necklace, will you?"
He smiles, displaying a set of gleaming white teeth. He draws a wicked blade of the same make used to kill Captain Teach. Libra lies unconscious on the floor, unmoving. Something feels...unnatural, but you cannot place it.
"Or am I going to have to take it?"
"Give it back, you wretches! Give it back!"
In another instant, the lights come on. Before you stands a hooded figure of pale complexion. His features, though partially hidden, emanate an almost otherworldly furor. This is the figure from the courtroom. If what you've heard is correct, this is the man - the god - who set this whole affair in motion.
This is Munsu.
He laughs quietly.
"Give me my sodding necklace, will you?"
He smiles, displaying a set of gleaming white teeth. He draws a wicked blade of the same make used to kill Captain Teach. Libra lies unconscious on the floor, unmoving. Something feels...unnatural, but you cannot place it.
"Or am I going to have to take it?"
HolyMan
Thy wounds are healed!
Hurry to the gnomes side Torath kneels to check her, making sure she is still alive. He looks up at what can only be the presences of one of The Four.
"I... My Lord I wish not to defy you," he says head bowed still kneeling.
"But this," he says with a gesture to Libra. "I can not allow for my friends to be hurt either. If it be true that you are responsible for the death of Lord Hood, the attack of The White Vale, and now the assault of the innocent." Torath stops not sure he can continue.
"I serve The Four as a whole, and not just the whims of one. I am sorry my Lord but you may not have what you seek." he finishes standing drawing his sword.
[sblock=OOC] if Libra needs a lay on hands, will do so. If she is dead will alter this post dramaticly,
[/sblock]
"I... My Lord I wish not to defy you," he says head bowed still kneeling.
"But this," he says with a gesture to Libra. "I can not allow for my friends to be hurt either. If it be true that you are responsible for the death of Lord Hood, the attack of The White Vale, and now the assault of the innocent." Torath stops not sure he can continue.
"I serve The Four as a whole, and not just the whims of one. I am sorry my Lord but you may not have what you seek." he finishes standing drawing his sword.
[sblock=OOC] if Libra needs a lay on hands, will do so. If she is dead will alter this post dramaticly,
[/sblock]
Phaezen
First Post
Squeal watches the self proclaimed god standing in the room, the warforged uncertain of events. It points it's sword at Munsu, although whether this is a threat or the warforged has forgotten that the sword is attached to it's arm is uncertain.
"That one says that the necklace belongs to it, how can this one and it's companions be certain?"
"That one says that the necklace belongs to it, how can this one and it's companions be certain?"
Thorn's weapon appeared in her hand when 'Munsu' drew, and she frowned.
"If you're Munsu, why are we still alive?" she asked. "Why ask us to give it to you, giving up the element of surprise, when you could just slaughter us and take it?"
"Either you're not Munsu, and aren't sure you can take us...or you are Munsu and you have some reason you don't want us dead. Either way, you can have the necklace over my dead body."
She twirled her dagger between her fingers and crouched in a ready position.
"If you're Munsu, why are we still alive?" she asked. "Why ask us to give it to you, giving up the element of surprise, when you could just slaughter us and take it?"
"Either you're not Munsu, and aren't sure you can take us...or you are Munsu and you have some reason you don't want us dead. Either way, you can have the necklace over my dead body."
She twirled her dagger between her fingers and crouched in a ready position.
industrygothica
Adventurer
Baern watched thorn in silence as she delivered her speech, then swallowed hard as she prepared her battle stance. He didn't know if they were making the right choice or not, refusing a god--but his mind was made. "Bah!" he spits, and heaves his hammer off of his back. The weight of it feels good in his hands as he steps next to the changeling, defiant of the god. "May Blackmoor's will be done."
DistractingFlare
First Post
Munsu cackles with delight.
"Good, good. I was hoping for a bit of fun!"
He lets go of his dagger, and it hovers in the air above his shoulder, pointing directly at Thorn. With his hands, he draws a pair of short swords. His black cloak hangs down almost to the floor. He lunges.
His blades slash faster than eyes can see, and before you can even think, you feel blood pouring from your body. Munsu has dealt you each a grievous wound.
Thorn feels her throat cut, and the necklace disappears from around her neck.
Baern feels a puncture in his stomach, and he drops senselessly to his knees as he bleeds from the gut.
Squeal feels a blade lodged deep into its eye socket, and it seems unable to even raise its arms in defense.
Torath feels a dull blow to the back of his head, and as he falls to the floor, he realizes that his neck has been snapped.
Doren feels a tremendous, searing pain, as if the whole of his body has been invaded. Munsu's laugh echoes through the tunnels of his mind, and he falls unconscious.
You all hear Munsu as he paces up and down the room.
"You know, you've impressed me thus far, but I'm pretty sure I've got you beat. Do you give up? Do you surrender?"
[sblock=Within your mind]Munsu stands in front of you, less than two inches from your face, glaring condescendingly at you. You may choose to reply to his question.[/sblock]
"Good, good. I was hoping for a bit of fun!"
He lets go of his dagger, and it hovers in the air above his shoulder, pointing directly at Thorn. With his hands, he draws a pair of short swords. His black cloak hangs down almost to the floor. He lunges.
His blades slash faster than eyes can see, and before you can even think, you feel blood pouring from your body. Munsu has dealt you each a grievous wound.
Thorn feels her throat cut, and the necklace disappears from around her neck.
Baern feels a puncture in his stomach, and he drops senselessly to his knees as he bleeds from the gut.
Squeal feels a blade lodged deep into its eye socket, and it seems unable to even raise its arms in defense.
Torath feels a dull blow to the back of his head, and as he falls to the floor, he realizes that his neck has been snapped.
Doren feels a tremendous, searing pain, as if the whole of his body has been invaded. Munsu's laugh echoes through the tunnels of his mind, and he falls unconscious.
You all hear Munsu as he paces up and down the room.
"You know, you've impressed me thus far, but I'm pretty sure I've got you beat. Do you give up? Do you surrender?"
[sblock=Within your mind]Munsu stands in front of you, less than two inches from your face, glaring condescendingly at you. You may choose to reply to his question.[/sblock]
industrygothica
Adventurer
"Ain't no shame in bein' bested by a god. But givin' up to a maniac? If all I got left is words, then that's what I'll use to fight you with until my dying breath."
DistractingFlare
First Post
The Death of the Accused
The end is here. In your bones, in your broken body, you feel it. Your blood drains into the worn floorboards of The Fancy Drake. Your memories cease to whisper to you. In this, you are not alone. Your allies lay near you.
Squeal, the warforged barbarian, seeking his past, pursuing memories he will never unlock.
Baern, the troubled dwarven invoker, caller of angels, who perished in defiance of a wicked deity.
Doren, the cleric, the lawbringer who, when faced with lawlessness, revolted. He died as he lived: with justice in his heart.
Torath, the paladin of The Four, student of the Isles, armored champion, felled by the cold dagger of his god.
Thorn, the many-faced assassin, the keeper of shadows, the seeker of vengeance, whose face reverts to the ghastly white pallor she hid so often from the world. She falls slowly into the darkness that once fueled her power.
As your eyes close, as your final moments slip away, you hear a metallic clatter. The gemstone slips to the floor.
"This is the end for you. I'm happy that you got this far, and perhaps we will meet again. This world is mine, now. While you lay in death, know this: you could never have beaten me. This was my greatest trick. Your end is here, but a new world is just beginning. Goodbye."
Your body passes, and your soul vacates your battered body. You lie awake for centuries, blind, silent, and bound in shadow. Time flows on. You hear the cries of war. The shadows deepen. The world goes quiet.
Millennia pass.
You feel the heat of a woman's breath on your cheek.
"Awaken. You are needed."
The end is here. In your bones, in your broken body, you feel it. Your blood drains into the worn floorboards of The Fancy Drake. Your memories cease to whisper to you. In this, you are not alone. Your allies lay near you.
Squeal, the warforged barbarian, seeking his past, pursuing memories he will never unlock.
Baern, the troubled dwarven invoker, caller of angels, who perished in defiance of a wicked deity.
Doren, the cleric, the lawbringer who, when faced with lawlessness, revolted. He died as he lived: with justice in his heart.
Torath, the paladin of The Four, student of the Isles, armored champion, felled by the cold dagger of his god.
Thorn, the many-faced assassin, the keeper of shadows, the seeker of vengeance, whose face reverts to the ghastly white pallor she hid so often from the world. She falls slowly into the darkness that once fueled her power.
As your eyes close, as your final moments slip away, you hear a metallic clatter. The gemstone slips to the floor.
"This is the end for you. I'm happy that you got this far, and perhaps we will meet again. This world is mine, now. While you lay in death, know this: you could never have beaten me. This was my greatest trick. Your end is here, but a new world is just beginning. Goodbye."
Your body passes, and your soul vacates your battered body. You lie awake for centuries, blind, silent, and bound in shadow. Time flows on. You hear the cries of war. The shadows deepen. The world goes quiet.
Millennia pass.
You feel the heat of a woman's breath on your cheek.
"Awaken. You are needed."
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