[AU] Butterfly Cage

[Erekose13]

While the others are deciding what to do with the prisoners and the bleeders, Scinathar will take a look around the room. It pays special attention to any exits from the room as well as any further markings. It will also give the room a check with it's enhanced vision (detect magic).

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Connor and Galen quickly stabilizes the man and the mojh, though both are quite hurt and it will be some time before they've recovered enough to speak. The woman keeps glancing over at the mojh, tears standing out in her eyes, despair on her face.*

*At Sanje's words she draws a ragged breath.*

"You all nearly killed him! Why should I tell you anything?" she says in a ragged voice, a hint of defiance in her eyes. She's obviously a strong woman, but she's also apparently lost something very dear to her.

*Scinathar, this entire chamber shows traces of magic, preservation magic you think. But the doors make you wince and turn your face away. Their power is quite intense, as well as obviously ancient.*

*Sanje, one thing you would notice is that the writing above the door is formal Verrik script. It says,

Spoiler

"Deepstorm aids only the land."

*

[OOC - Anyone else who reads Verrik can highlight that sentence as well.]

 

[WizWrm]

Sanje reads aloud, in Verrik, the writing on the wall, "

Spoiler

Deepstorm aids only the land.

" Switching to Common, he says, "That means, 'Deepstorm aids only the land.' I do not know the significance of that phrase."

Edited to account for events.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Sanje, as you read the phrase aloud in Verrik, there is a great crack, and the mighty stone doors begin to open. Everyone is still clear of them, so then gently thud into place. They lead into the mountain... you thought. Through the doors you can see light, like winter sunlight coming through the clouds. A small snowstorm is raging in there, and a thick snowpack in on the ground. Also, you can see what appears to be a grove of pines in the center of this place.*

*The woman gasps at this and takes it in, her eyes wide with wonder.*

 

[WizWrm]

"I see that it has self-evident significance," Sanje says, his deep voice hushed as he gazes through the doors. "A witching site, indeed. How shall we proceed?"

He turns to the woman. "This is the magic we both seem to seek, and so our fight may be put aside. He," Sanje says, putting an emphasis on 'he,' as if to question the pronoun used for the mojh, "tried to kill our giant compatriots, so the score has now been leveled, and of these encounters, none have died, nor need to die. He can be healed." Sanje, however, has a strange look on his face as he says this. "Please, tell us what you know. We hold no ill will toward you, only toward the things you have done, and this matter has been resolved. We can aid each other."

Diplomacy +5

 

[Dalamar]

"We have been greeted with too much violence to try diplomacy as the first measure. However, so far no-one has died. And if I can help it, nobody will."

 

[Keia]

Connor Loresong Magister 1 HP: 5/7 AC: 13

*Connor, having stabilized both of their opponents with wound transfer cantrips, stood gaping at the view he was given. His jaw hung open as his mind tried to come to grips with what he was seeing.*

"Whoa . . . " he said.

 

[Rybaer]

Grathis tries to staunch his own wound while the others go about stabilizing the others. He feels woozey, but doesn't quite feel on the verge of passing out yet.

When the doors open, he clenches his morningstar a bit tighter. He peers into the snowscape to see if there are any threats aside from the weather.

 

[Keia]

Connor - Initiative: +2; AC: 13; HP: 5/7 (2 subdual); Wpn: Staff +0, 1d6-1 20(x2)

Grathis tries to staunch his own wound while the others go about stabilizing the others.

Once Connor got over his amazement, he moved to Grathis and said, "Sorry, Grathis, I didn't realize you'd been hit. Let me see if I can help."

OOC: Transfer Wounds

 

[Erekose13]

Scinathar echoes Connors amazement, standing there with it's jaw open. Shaking it's head a bit, Scinathar begins to walk towards the witching site, drawn by the sheer magnitude of power welling forth from it. It fails to take note of anything now but the wind and snow and trees.