Carnifex's Story Hour (Updated January 20th, "The Union")
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Carnifex
First Post
“I can provide us with light for a bit, but it would be best to for Mel to provide us with some to start if she can. That way I will be able to help if the need arises once we are inside the cave,” said Burl to the others as he prepared to go inside the cave. hE took off his cloak, folding it up and putting it into his backpack. No need to get it damaged inside the cave, he thought.
As he followed the others into the cave, one last thought passed as he walked pass the entrance into the near darkness, The last time we went underground like this, we came back with a large amount of gunpowder. If only we had brought it. It might have proved a blast to the beholder.
Mel wiped her eyes on her sleeve and tried to hold up long enough to imbue the tip of a crossbow bolt with arcane light and hand it over to Burl. (Or was it arcane? The thought had come to her that the forms of the spell were unlike any other she knew--the light simply seemed to emanate from a mind-window to a vast, unattainable place...)
But as she gave Burl the brightly shining bolt another idea occurred to her, and she lifted from her deepest pocket the Fire Serpent wand. "I'm sure I won't be needing this," she said, with a miserable attempt at a smile. "The activation word is 'agemon'. It only works once a day and better in the daytime, so use it wisely. And... be careful..." She sobbed again a few times before getting hold of herself more or less.
Wyshira wouldn't let herself look at Burl; she was afraid that if she did, and saw deep concern written there in his eyes, that her resolve would weaken. She simply shook her head in response, and moved to stand next to Mel.
The others prepared themselves to go into the caves. Wyshira took one of her shark-fang javelins and cast light on its tip, then handed it to Kale. It flickered and glowed faintly green, as though she had caught a bit of light that welled up from deep below the surface of the sea. "It will last a little longer than one half of an hour," she told the rogue. Then she gave him both of her potions of healing, and two vials of holy water. "Just in case," she said with a shrug.
All right, this is it. They are leaving, and..... I -- am staying -- with Melisande.
In spite of her best efforts however, Wyshira felt herself wavering. Burl was looking back at her rather forlornly as he walked away. Was he thinking that she had let him down? She thought of the unknown caves, and how dangerous they could turn out to be. The rest of the party might really need her down there! Even Melisande was telling her (between sobs) that she should go on with the others.
Wyshira was almost convinced that it was the right thing to do.
Except she knew those reasons were just excuses. And because of who and what she was, it was impossible for her not to put herself in Melisande's shoes and imagine how she must be feeling. Watching all her friends go...... Being left alone with that horrendous thing. Wyshira was touched, and filled with compassion. There wasn't any room left for fear.
She turned her back on Burl and the others to focus her attention on Melisande, and try to comfort her.
"Wyshira, please--go with them. They'll need you more than I will if there's trouble." (In other words, if there was trouble with the Beholder it would be over with before it started and no priestess would be of any avail.) "You're a dear, kind soul but I'd feel much better if you were with the others. After all--I'm relying on you all to come back alive and rescue me..." At this she lost control once again and plopped down on the rocks under the unnerving gaze of many eyestalks to weep.
"No you wouldn't," Wyshira said, putting an arm around the sorceress' shoulder. "We'd both feel much better if I stayed here with you. They'll be fine. We'll be fine. It will all work out."
To every person Kale looked, turbulent emotion were covered by some mask or another. His mind railed at reality, striken by the same conflicts of his mates, even if he knew exactly what they would have to do to escape the beholder with their lives. Even sure as he was, though, watching as Wyshira sat down with the sobbing sorceress, he was sure that they situations like this that turned logic on its head.
We'll be back for you both, he would liked to have said.
With the beholder and his collateral left above ground, it was time for the unwilling miners to venture down beneath the earth. Within the mouth of the low cave, bright sunshine turned to shadowy gloom; warmth to damp coolness around them.Here, within the sandstone cave, walls all orange and yellows stained with black and brown, a faint breeze filtered up from the darkness ahead, the passageway dipping to take a definite downwards angle before twisting and turning to block further sight.
A faint scent on that breeze, something malodorous, wafted past them. All was strangely quiet after the ravine, claustrophobically calm.
* * *
Outside, Melisande found the gaze of the solar beholderkin more or less directed entirely at her. Apparently the hulking boulder was scrutinising the sorceress quite carefully, moreso than it had deigned to do previously.
"You are blue. I was unaware this was a usual colour for your lesser species," the beholder questioned, apparently quite uncaring of how fearful she might be to be at its mercy.
Having once absorbed the brunt of the Beholder's annoyance (and feeling too crushed to be testy) Melisande sobbingly answered the beast in the politest way she could think of, wishing she had Kale there to coach her in the subtle art of kissing whatever it was Beholders sat on.
"Yes sir, it is unusual, sir. If it bothers your eyes I can change it. Temporarily, at least. But if you're asking for an explanation I'm afraid I only have a couple of feeble hypotheses to offer, not being nearly so wise as... as greater, er, species like yours."
Flattery: hadn't that been what Kale used? Suddenly Mel was on roll, thinking she'd hit on the right approach. "But you sir are a wonder to beho--to see! I mean, I suppose I should consider myself lucky to be your hostage." Trembling and runny-nosed she forced her terrified eyes to examine the dusty bulk of the creature with something which hopefully looked like admiration. "Tremendous! Magnificent! Why, if your lore and wisdom match your aspect at least I shall die happily enlightened by your discourse." The converse of this, of course, was the that the Beholder could be nothing but bored by Melisande's own discourse, which unfortunately continued in a slightly shrill pitch of panic.
"You can't possibly be interested in why we are blue. But I feel I must know more about the mighty Solar Beholders, so that at worst I can die wiser, or at best I can more amply describe your, er, superlativeness to my folk--inferior worms though we are!"
The rumbling voice of the beholderkin grated on Wyshira's nerves. Why does it care what color we are? she wondered suspiciously, while trying to appear relaxed and at ease for Melisande's sake.
Meanwhile, the sorceress seemed to have gotten it into her head that a honeyed tongue and ingratiating manner were the keys to keeping the monster placated. Wyshira began to worry that Mel was laying it on too thick, but didn't know how to stop her. She nudged her gently in the ribs, but that was evidently being too subtle. She could only hope that the creature thought so highly of itself that it would not think to doubt her friend's sincerity.
* * *
Sebastion cursed his lack of foresight, clenching his fists at his sight as the bloated tumbleweed exerted its bullying influence once more.
Damn!! Why didn't I see that coming... isn't this just another battlefield? Think, stupid bloody stable-boy... think.
There wasn't, however, an obvious solution as long as they sat beneath the beady eye - eyes - of the creature. It was foolish, of course, for him to have divided the group at all, but he'd wanted to try and get Mel free of this. It was, also, frustrating to think he'd not seen the obvious evasion afforded to the buoyant orb.
But most of all it wasn't fair.
"It's not bloody fair!" he muttered to himself as he turned away, grasping the reins of the horses as he eased them into line for Mel to look after while they were away. "It shouldn't be like this... it shouldn't."
Trekking down towards the mine, he was in a foul mood, scowling at the floor and the surroundings as he tried again and again to work out what he should have done differently, and why he hadn't.
And then, given the situation in which they found themselves, he turned the frenetic thought to what they were going to do when they came out...
As he followed the others into the cave, one last thought passed as he walked pass the entrance into the near darkness, The last time we went underground like this, we came back with a large amount of gunpowder. If only we had brought it. It might have proved a blast to the beholder.
Mel wiped her eyes on her sleeve and tried to hold up long enough to imbue the tip of a crossbow bolt with arcane light and hand it over to Burl. (Or was it arcane? The thought had come to her that the forms of the spell were unlike any other she knew--the light simply seemed to emanate from a mind-window to a vast, unattainable place...)
But as she gave Burl the brightly shining bolt another idea occurred to her, and she lifted from her deepest pocket the Fire Serpent wand. "I'm sure I won't be needing this," she said, with a miserable attempt at a smile. "The activation word is 'agemon'. It only works once a day and better in the daytime, so use it wisely. And... be careful..." She sobbed again a few times before getting hold of herself more or less.
Wyshira wouldn't let herself look at Burl; she was afraid that if she did, and saw deep concern written there in his eyes, that her resolve would weaken. She simply shook her head in response, and moved to stand next to Mel.
The others prepared themselves to go into the caves. Wyshira took one of her shark-fang javelins and cast light on its tip, then handed it to Kale. It flickered and glowed faintly green, as though she had caught a bit of light that welled up from deep below the surface of the sea. "It will last a little longer than one half of an hour," she told the rogue. Then she gave him both of her potions of healing, and two vials of holy water. "Just in case," she said with a shrug.
All right, this is it. They are leaving, and..... I -- am staying -- with Melisande.
In spite of her best efforts however, Wyshira felt herself wavering. Burl was looking back at her rather forlornly as he walked away. Was he thinking that she had let him down? She thought of the unknown caves, and how dangerous they could turn out to be. The rest of the party might really need her down there! Even Melisande was telling her (between sobs) that she should go on with the others.
Wyshira was almost convinced that it was the right thing to do.
Except she knew those reasons were just excuses. And because of who and what she was, it was impossible for her not to put herself in Melisande's shoes and imagine how she must be feeling. Watching all her friends go...... Being left alone with that horrendous thing. Wyshira was touched, and filled with compassion. There wasn't any room left for fear.
She turned her back on Burl and the others to focus her attention on Melisande, and try to comfort her.
"Wyshira, please--go with them. They'll need you more than I will if there's trouble." (In other words, if there was trouble with the Beholder it would be over with before it started and no priestess would be of any avail.) "You're a dear, kind soul but I'd feel much better if you were with the others. After all--I'm relying on you all to come back alive and rescue me..." At this she lost control once again and plopped down on the rocks under the unnerving gaze of many eyestalks to weep.
"No you wouldn't," Wyshira said, putting an arm around the sorceress' shoulder. "We'd both feel much better if I stayed here with you. They'll be fine. We'll be fine. It will all work out."
To every person Kale looked, turbulent emotion were covered by some mask or another. His mind railed at reality, striken by the same conflicts of his mates, even if he knew exactly what they would have to do to escape the beholder with their lives. Even sure as he was, though, watching as Wyshira sat down with the sobbing sorceress, he was sure that they situations like this that turned logic on its head.
We'll be back for you both, he would liked to have said.
With the beholder and his collateral left above ground, it was time for the unwilling miners to venture down beneath the earth. Within the mouth of the low cave, bright sunshine turned to shadowy gloom; warmth to damp coolness around them.Here, within the sandstone cave, walls all orange and yellows stained with black and brown, a faint breeze filtered up from the darkness ahead, the passageway dipping to take a definite downwards angle before twisting and turning to block further sight.
A faint scent on that breeze, something malodorous, wafted past them. All was strangely quiet after the ravine, claustrophobically calm.
* * *
Outside, Melisande found the gaze of the solar beholderkin more or less directed entirely at her. Apparently the hulking boulder was scrutinising the sorceress quite carefully, moreso than it had deigned to do previously.
"You are blue. I was unaware this was a usual colour for your lesser species," the beholder questioned, apparently quite uncaring of how fearful she might be to be at its mercy.
Having once absorbed the brunt of the Beholder's annoyance (and feeling too crushed to be testy) Melisande sobbingly answered the beast in the politest way she could think of, wishing she had Kale there to coach her in the subtle art of kissing whatever it was Beholders sat on.
"Yes sir, it is unusual, sir. If it bothers your eyes I can change it. Temporarily, at least. But if you're asking for an explanation I'm afraid I only have a couple of feeble hypotheses to offer, not being nearly so wise as... as greater, er, species like yours."
Flattery: hadn't that been what Kale used? Suddenly Mel was on roll, thinking she'd hit on the right approach. "But you sir are a wonder to beho--to see! I mean, I suppose I should consider myself lucky to be your hostage." Trembling and runny-nosed she forced her terrified eyes to examine the dusty bulk of the creature with something which hopefully looked like admiration. "Tremendous! Magnificent! Why, if your lore and wisdom match your aspect at least I shall die happily enlightened by your discourse." The converse of this, of course, was the that the Beholder could be nothing but bored by Melisande's own discourse, which unfortunately continued in a slightly shrill pitch of panic.
"You can't possibly be interested in why we are blue. But I feel I must know more about the mighty Solar Beholders, so that at worst I can die wiser, or at best I can more amply describe your, er, superlativeness to my folk--inferior worms though we are!"
The rumbling voice of the beholderkin grated on Wyshira's nerves. Why does it care what color we are? she wondered suspiciously, while trying to appear relaxed and at ease for Melisande's sake.
Meanwhile, the sorceress seemed to have gotten it into her head that a honeyed tongue and ingratiating manner were the keys to keeping the monster placated. Wyshira began to worry that Mel was laying it on too thick, but didn't know how to stop her. She nudged her gently in the ribs, but that was evidently being too subtle. She could only hope that the creature thought so highly of itself that it would not think to doubt her friend's sincerity.
* * *
Sebastion cursed his lack of foresight, clenching his fists at his sight as the bloated tumbleweed exerted its bullying influence once more.
Damn!! Why didn't I see that coming... isn't this just another battlefield? Think, stupid bloody stable-boy... think.
There wasn't, however, an obvious solution as long as they sat beneath the beady eye - eyes - of the creature. It was foolish, of course, for him to have divided the group at all, but he'd wanted to try and get Mel free of this. It was, also, frustrating to think he'd not seen the obvious evasion afforded to the buoyant orb.
But most of all it wasn't fair.
"It's not bloody fair!" he muttered to himself as he turned away, grasping the reins of the horses as he eased them into line for Mel to look after while they were away. "It shouldn't be like this... it shouldn't."
Trekking down towards the mine, he was in a foul mood, scowling at the floor and the surroundings as he tried again and again to work out what he should have done differently, and why he hadn't.
And then, given the situation in which they found themselves, he turned the frenetic thought to what they were going to do when they came out...
Carnifex
First Post
Six figures were clustered together slightly hesitantly in the gloom of the gave, a jutting javelin and bolt casting light over the scene as the adventurers looked with none too much eagerness into the darkness before them. Wolf was down on one knee, hunched over to look at the ground closely and sniffing the air.
"Tracks. This sandy floor picks 'em up pretty well - looks like something comes in and out of here regularly from the way its all kicked and scuffed up. Can't tell what though, but there's that smell on the air." He stood, straightening back up again, eyes gleaming in the steady light of their magical sources. "Be ready because we might meet something that isn't too glad for our company. Sebastion, Kale, you two head the front with me; Cord, Ebri, stay behind us for support and rearguard and keep Burl protected in case anything decides our wizard looks a tasty snack. Stay alert, speak if you see anything out of the ordinary, keep weapons to hand."
* * *
Now only the wychlights gave them sight, except for the blind Cord to whom there was no discernible difference. The elderly monk moved with his usual confident grace down the sandy tunnel. The air was heavy with cold damp and the path irregular and twisting, all illuminated in the pure white of Melisande's innate magic and the watery hue of Wyshira's prayer. Occasional patches of some sort of moss or fungus sprouted in out-of-the-way corners.
There as still that faintly unpleasant smell on the air, Cord making comments about its growing strength as they ventured further downwards in the twisting, wandering tunnel. Even the others less sensitive olfactory senses could pick out that the scent was growing in its intensity, until it was unignorable in its intensity some while later.
Here, down in the deeps, they found a cavern.
* * *
The jagged, cracked floor slanted at some thirty degrees, askew and disorientating. The ceiling matched the skew of the floor, dipping down as well and alarmingly low, only some six and a half feet high. Myriad grotesque statagmites and stalagtites pierced the place, obstructing the view which rapidly diminished into darkness. The further-off growths seemed to gleam in rainbow colours as the wychlights glimmered and reflected off their rich mineral veins.
The entire place dripped with water, trickling away down the angled floor to seep away in the darkness. The foul smell was heavy on the air.
Somewhere down and to their left, a warm glow like that of a firelight shimmered, though they couldn't see the source of the light with the stalagmites blocking their clear view.
* * *
Wolf stared suspiciously into the gloom. "Well, here we are, but this is more than just strange..."
His head moved to follow, to trace a slight shift in the deeper darkness. The others could see it too.
Something in the slanted cavern that sloped down before them was moving. And something else. And something else... myriad shapes slipping between jutting rock-growths, and that smell growing stronger. It was accompanied now by faint growls, snarls, the gnashing of teeth. Gangly figures crept closer to the light of the band.
The ring of eyes glittered sick yellow in the gloom.
* * *
"This might just be the time to try out Mel’s wand.” spoke Burl as he reached into his pouch to pull out the wand. Making sure it was the one he wanted, Burl pointed it in the direction of the yellow eyes.
The ceiling of the rocky tunnel was too low for Sebastion's two-bladed sword, so he took up the black-bladed sword he'd opted for from the takings of their last battle, after carefully buckling his large shield onto the other arm. It felt strange not to be wielding his father's blades, but as with shoeing, it was a case of the right tool for the job.
Reaching the end of the trail, stood with Wolf's obvious unease, the right tool for the job became important again as Burl raised the wand from his last cavern adventure.
"Hold, Burl." he whispered, not excessively worried as he knew they'd already been seen. "These creatures may wish to parlay... they've shown themselves and not set an ambush. Perhaps they are held here by the Beholder too?"
Diplomacy, he knew, was the best tool for the job here... but given his last effort at that he left the task to Kale's overly smart mouth.
Yeah, maybe they want to talk, Kale thought as he relaxed before the approaching ring of eyes. Preparing himself, he knew that if the small creatures wanted to attack, they would wait until they were in the best position... and got their courage up.
Settling his balance and readying himself, he could be glad at least that Burl didn't immediately fly with the fire rod. Ah, mages with their new toys. But that magic may be needed yet...
Not making eye contact, but still standing tall, the young mercenary regarded the very long odds that the creatures would allow the crew to pass, just to bust off some stalactites from their home. Yet, fear they might respect. Kale's mind turned, wondering how he could get the things to believe they had killed the beholder, or some other fearsome display. In a moment, the fire rod did not seem such a bad idea after all.
Poised, the mercenary waited a moment as the two groups faced off.
Just as Burl was pointing the wand, he stopped, heeding Sebastian’s words. Maybe, he was too quick to react, but he hadn’t run into too many wild creatures of late who wanted to talk before sinking their teeth into his flesh. Remaining ready to unleash the power of the wand, Burl waited to see who would be their spokesman.
Sadly, the creatures of the cave seemed too hungry to care about diplomacy.
* * *
There was a moments pause as the two groups faced off, time enough to caution Burl against unleashing the Fire Serpent rod, and then the ghul-pack sprang into motion. Overcoming any residual fear it might have had of the wychlights the band carried, the first ghoul scrambled forwards, the sinewy beast reaching out with yellowed talons to try and calw at the face of Wolf, the foremost of the party; metal glittered as the mercenary brought his bastard sword and heavy mace to bear to fend off the attack but the sheer impetus and berserk ferocity of the undead thing carried him a few steps backwards into the middle of the group. The others swarmed forwards then, until at least half a dozen undead beset the adventurers.
Ravening claws and teeth seemed the most distinctive feature of the gangly monstrosities as they attempted to tear apart the interlopers; but at the same time an alarming co-ordination about their attacks was evident as they swarmed amongst their foes, as if the entire ghul-pack was instinctively acting as one entity.
"Tracks. This sandy floor picks 'em up pretty well - looks like something comes in and out of here regularly from the way its all kicked and scuffed up. Can't tell what though, but there's that smell on the air." He stood, straightening back up again, eyes gleaming in the steady light of their magical sources. "Be ready because we might meet something that isn't too glad for our company. Sebastion, Kale, you two head the front with me; Cord, Ebri, stay behind us for support and rearguard and keep Burl protected in case anything decides our wizard looks a tasty snack. Stay alert, speak if you see anything out of the ordinary, keep weapons to hand."
* * *
Now only the wychlights gave them sight, except for the blind Cord to whom there was no discernible difference. The elderly monk moved with his usual confident grace down the sandy tunnel. The air was heavy with cold damp and the path irregular and twisting, all illuminated in the pure white of Melisande's innate magic and the watery hue of Wyshira's prayer. Occasional patches of some sort of moss or fungus sprouted in out-of-the-way corners.
There as still that faintly unpleasant smell on the air, Cord making comments about its growing strength as they ventured further downwards in the twisting, wandering tunnel. Even the others less sensitive olfactory senses could pick out that the scent was growing in its intensity, until it was unignorable in its intensity some while later.
Here, down in the deeps, they found a cavern.
* * *
The jagged, cracked floor slanted at some thirty degrees, askew and disorientating. The ceiling matched the skew of the floor, dipping down as well and alarmingly low, only some six and a half feet high. Myriad grotesque statagmites and stalagtites pierced the place, obstructing the view which rapidly diminished into darkness. The further-off growths seemed to gleam in rainbow colours as the wychlights glimmered and reflected off their rich mineral veins.
The entire place dripped with water, trickling away down the angled floor to seep away in the darkness. The foul smell was heavy on the air.
Somewhere down and to their left, a warm glow like that of a firelight shimmered, though they couldn't see the source of the light with the stalagmites blocking their clear view.
* * *
Wolf stared suspiciously into the gloom. "Well, here we are, but this is more than just strange..."
His head moved to follow, to trace a slight shift in the deeper darkness. The others could see it too.
Something in the slanted cavern that sloped down before them was moving. And something else. And something else... myriad shapes slipping between jutting rock-growths, and that smell growing stronger. It was accompanied now by faint growls, snarls, the gnashing of teeth. Gangly figures crept closer to the light of the band.
The ring of eyes glittered sick yellow in the gloom.
* * *
"This might just be the time to try out Mel’s wand.” spoke Burl as he reached into his pouch to pull out the wand. Making sure it was the one he wanted, Burl pointed it in the direction of the yellow eyes.
The ceiling of the rocky tunnel was too low for Sebastion's two-bladed sword, so he took up the black-bladed sword he'd opted for from the takings of their last battle, after carefully buckling his large shield onto the other arm. It felt strange not to be wielding his father's blades, but as with shoeing, it was a case of the right tool for the job.
Reaching the end of the trail, stood with Wolf's obvious unease, the right tool for the job became important again as Burl raised the wand from his last cavern adventure.
"Hold, Burl." he whispered, not excessively worried as he knew they'd already been seen. "These creatures may wish to parlay... they've shown themselves and not set an ambush. Perhaps they are held here by the Beholder too?"
Diplomacy, he knew, was the best tool for the job here... but given his last effort at that he left the task to Kale's overly smart mouth.
Yeah, maybe they want to talk, Kale thought as he relaxed before the approaching ring of eyes. Preparing himself, he knew that if the small creatures wanted to attack, they would wait until they were in the best position... and got their courage up.
Settling his balance and readying himself, he could be glad at least that Burl didn't immediately fly with the fire rod. Ah, mages with their new toys. But that magic may be needed yet...
Not making eye contact, but still standing tall, the young mercenary regarded the very long odds that the creatures would allow the crew to pass, just to bust off some stalactites from their home. Yet, fear they might respect. Kale's mind turned, wondering how he could get the things to believe they had killed the beholder, or some other fearsome display. In a moment, the fire rod did not seem such a bad idea after all.
Poised, the mercenary waited a moment as the two groups faced off.
Just as Burl was pointing the wand, he stopped, heeding Sebastian’s words. Maybe, he was too quick to react, but he hadn’t run into too many wild creatures of late who wanted to talk before sinking their teeth into his flesh. Remaining ready to unleash the power of the wand, Burl waited to see who would be their spokesman.
Sadly, the creatures of the cave seemed too hungry to care about diplomacy.
* * *
There was a moments pause as the two groups faced off, time enough to caution Burl against unleashing the Fire Serpent rod, and then the ghul-pack sprang into motion. Overcoming any residual fear it might have had of the wychlights the band carried, the first ghoul scrambled forwards, the sinewy beast reaching out with yellowed talons to try and calw at the face of Wolf, the foremost of the party; metal glittered as the mercenary brought his bastard sword and heavy mace to bear to fend off the attack but the sheer impetus and berserk ferocity of the undead thing carried him a few steps backwards into the middle of the group. The others swarmed forwards then, until at least half a dozen undead beset the adventurers.
Ravening claws and teeth seemed the most distinctive feature of the gangly monstrosities as they attempted to tear apart the interlopers; but at the same time an alarming co-ordination about their attacks was evident as they swarmed amongst their foes, as if the entire ghul-pack was instinctively acting as one entity.
Last edited:
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Never! Never! Never! Negotiate with Undead!
When I read this the first time...I was like "attack already!"
When I read this the first time...I was like "attack already!"
Carnifex
First Post
Broccli_Head said:
To be fair they didn't realise they were undead at first (and the ghul-pack are hardly normal undead, either), but then again, the ring of 'sickly yellow' eyes should have clued them in that things might well get very nasty very quickly. And of course the cleric was spending the time sitting around in the gaze of the beholderkin above ground
Carnifex
First Post
Meanwhile, above ground...
The myriad eyes narrowed suspiciously at Melisande's craven stream of compliments and words, cutting into it like a knife. "Tell me your hypotheses. And you, other blue woman, why are you blue? Tell me these things. Thaumogenetics and biochronicling are of interest to my studies and meditations."
"Forgive us, if we have been an irritation to you, my lord."
Wyshira had sensed the beholderkin's annoyance, and this time jumped in to reply before Melisande had a chance.
"I am Wyshira, Priestess of Ishrak," she went on, wondering if the monster had a name for itself, or if names even mattered to it at all. She wondered also how this creature of earth and fire would view Ishrak, the goddess of air and water, and hoped that her words would not anger it further. She tried to project an air of calm serenity, even though she was filled with trepidation under the beholderkin's scrutiny.
"My blueness is a result of my ancestry - I am Water Kin; water genasi, we are also sometimes called.
"The tradition in my family says that sometime, generations ago, a water Outsider from the sea came to my foremother and loved her. Since that time, her line has produced many women such as myself, right down to this last generation when my twin sister and I were born in the mountains of Cryosia."
Well if the monster hates beings of water, I am in trouble now for sure! Wyshira realized, but nevertheless, she spoke with pride of her heritage.
Mel's confusion at the Beholder's apparent immunity to her vigorous praising dissipated by the time Wyshira finished her story; winning the Beholder's favor didn't pose so big a problem if it wanted to talk thaumogenetics! "As for me, the most likely lead I've had was some disjointed information pointing to a celestial origin for my blueness. No one ever knew my father--I mean, except my mother of course!--and she won't talk about it, so I don't know much about that half of my karyotype. I've heard more than once about a species of celestials called 'aasimar' who seem to be blue. There may be one in my near lineage."
"On the other hand, my mum says I'm a mistake," she added with a shrug. "Surely in your meditations you have considered such questions more deeply than we have..."
She felt her courage slowly rebuilding as she discovered it was possible to have a civil discussion with their aberrant captor. Still at the back of her mind lingered the worry that soon she and Wyshira would have to come up with a plan of escape, without speaking about it openly, because even when the Beholder rested it seemed unlikely it would sleep soundly enough not to spy on them. I bet it sleeps with one eye open, she thought, gazing up fearfully at the many waving eyestalks above.
Maybe that's why Wyshira was elbowing me before--we have to find a way to communicate without it overhearing.
The beholder listened apparently with care and interest to the two women's accounts of their odd ancestry. "I consider many aspects of such sciences in my meditation, but nonetheless specimens such as yourselves are not regular. Besides, the genetics of your mongrel species of bipeds are merely a sideline to greater tracks of thought. At least, from what I've heard, your kin have made vague advances in such things through what you call... 'Manipulation'. And what," it asked suspiciously, "are your kind doing here in the mountains anyway?"
Mel exchanged a glance with Wyshira. It didn't seem like a good idea to mention the Arcanist's Tower, but the Beholder already made clear how it would react to lies. "Such trifles cannot be of much interest to you, sir, but we were sent by a noble of Naseria to explore this region for items that may be of use to his research in thaumic engineering.
"I don't know much about that, but I do know a little about Manipulation, since I did an apprenticeship in a lab in Carthagia. Perhaps there is something you wish to learn more about?" She tried to sound very eager and lead the Beholder away from the subject of where they were going, although it was impossible to tell how much importance it placed in the question. Who could guess what went on inside that baleful, betentacled blob? And if its questions were idle, how long would it be before it wearied of talk, and passed on to other amusements?
Wyshira approved of Melisande's answer to the beholderkin. It just goes to show that she's not quite the scatter-brain she appears to be most of the time. She really does have a head on her shoulders!
Wyshira listened to Mel and the beholder discuss thaumic engineering - Really?! Is that what we're going to that tower for? - and Manipulation. She was mildly curious about the latter, despite the lurid tales that were told about Manipulators and their labs. It was hard to imagine the innocuous sorceress at work alongside those depraved experimentors. But then again, she'd seen Pierre with her own eyes - two-headed proof that Melisande was (again) not quite what she seemed.
At length Wyshira's mind wandered, and she walked off across the rocky and broken terrain in the direction that Wolf and the others had gone on their way to the cave. She stood looking off in the distance as if keeping watch for their return. And she was doing that, in a way; although with half her heart she hoped that they had found some way to escape the ravine, and were even now far away, and safe.
But while she seemed to be watching for her friends, she was also studying every inch of the land for something she had missed before: some way for her and Melisande to get away from the monster; some place where they could hide and be protected.
She turned back to Mel and the monster after a while and asked, "What happenes if they don't come back?"
The myriad eyes narrowed suspiciously at Melisande's craven stream of compliments and words, cutting into it like a knife. "Tell me your hypotheses. And you, other blue woman, why are you blue? Tell me these things. Thaumogenetics and biochronicling are of interest to my studies and meditations."
"Forgive us, if we have been an irritation to you, my lord."
Wyshira had sensed the beholderkin's annoyance, and this time jumped in to reply before Melisande had a chance.
"I am Wyshira, Priestess of Ishrak," she went on, wondering if the monster had a name for itself, or if names even mattered to it at all. She wondered also how this creature of earth and fire would view Ishrak, the goddess of air and water, and hoped that her words would not anger it further. She tried to project an air of calm serenity, even though she was filled with trepidation under the beholderkin's scrutiny.
"My blueness is a result of my ancestry - I am Water Kin; water genasi, we are also sometimes called.
"The tradition in my family says that sometime, generations ago, a water Outsider from the sea came to my foremother and loved her. Since that time, her line has produced many women such as myself, right down to this last generation when my twin sister and I were born in the mountains of Cryosia."
Well if the monster hates beings of water, I am in trouble now for sure! Wyshira realized, but nevertheless, she spoke with pride of her heritage.
Mel's confusion at the Beholder's apparent immunity to her vigorous praising dissipated by the time Wyshira finished her story; winning the Beholder's favor didn't pose so big a problem if it wanted to talk thaumogenetics! "As for me, the most likely lead I've had was some disjointed information pointing to a celestial origin for my blueness. No one ever knew my father--I mean, except my mother of course!--and she won't talk about it, so I don't know much about that half of my karyotype. I've heard more than once about a species of celestials called 'aasimar' who seem to be blue. There may be one in my near lineage."
"On the other hand, my mum says I'm a mistake," she added with a shrug. "Surely in your meditations you have considered such questions more deeply than we have..."
She felt her courage slowly rebuilding as she discovered it was possible to have a civil discussion with their aberrant captor. Still at the back of her mind lingered the worry that soon she and Wyshira would have to come up with a plan of escape, without speaking about it openly, because even when the Beholder rested it seemed unlikely it would sleep soundly enough not to spy on them. I bet it sleeps with one eye open, she thought, gazing up fearfully at the many waving eyestalks above.
Maybe that's why Wyshira was elbowing me before--we have to find a way to communicate without it overhearing.
The beholder listened apparently with care and interest to the two women's accounts of their odd ancestry. "I consider many aspects of such sciences in my meditation, but nonetheless specimens such as yourselves are not regular. Besides, the genetics of your mongrel species of bipeds are merely a sideline to greater tracks of thought. At least, from what I've heard, your kin have made vague advances in such things through what you call... 'Manipulation'. And what," it asked suspiciously, "are your kind doing here in the mountains anyway?"
Mel exchanged a glance with Wyshira. It didn't seem like a good idea to mention the Arcanist's Tower, but the Beholder already made clear how it would react to lies. "Such trifles cannot be of much interest to you, sir, but we were sent by a noble of Naseria to explore this region for items that may be of use to his research in thaumic engineering.
"I don't know much about that, but I do know a little about Manipulation, since I did an apprenticeship in a lab in Carthagia. Perhaps there is something you wish to learn more about?" She tried to sound very eager and lead the Beholder away from the subject of where they were going, although it was impossible to tell how much importance it placed in the question. Who could guess what went on inside that baleful, betentacled blob? And if its questions were idle, how long would it be before it wearied of talk, and passed on to other amusements?
Wyshira approved of Melisande's answer to the beholderkin. It just goes to show that she's not quite the scatter-brain she appears to be most of the time. She really does have a head on her shoulders!
Wyshira listened to Mel and the beholder discuss thaumic engineering - Really?! Is that what we're going to that tower for? - and Manipulation. She was mildly curious about the latter, despite the lurid tales that were told about Manipulators and their labs. It was hard to imagine the innocuous sorceress at work alongside those depraved experimentors. But then again, she'd seen Pierre with her own eyes - two-headed proof that Melisande was (again) not quite what she seemed.
At length Wyshira's mind wandered, and she walked off across the rocky and broken terrain in the direction that Wolf and the others had gone on their way to the cave. She stood looking off in the distance as if keeping watch for their return. And she was doing that, in a way; although with half her heart she hoped that they had found some way to escape the ravine, and were even now far away, and safe.
But while she seemed to be watching for her friends, she was also studying every inch of the land for something she had missed before: some way for her and Melisande to get away from the monster; some place where they could hide and be protected.
She turned back to Mel and the monster after a while and asked, "What happenes if they don't come back?"
Broccli_Head
Explorer
The beholder cuts you into pieces and gets to eat blueberries!
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