[EBERRON] the Extraordinaries, 'A Terror Awakened, the League Reborn'

[taitzu52]

"It does appears as though we are all here.", says Neville. "Though I wonder," he says, looking up at the decks of the Endless Fury, "if Master Enden will be accompanying us. It seems as though he is a bit attatched to his mighty vessel." Neville looks around at last minute preparations with a keen and exhaustively practiced eye for detail.

 

[Karl Green]

The league members looks at each other and head for the Grey-Death Mist


(ok lets see who is still with us... and then I will describe your arrival at the Mourlands)

 

[Ferrix]

Grey death mist, how reassuring, Amon thinks to himself, he grins through the guise of Gherald Preax, yellowed teeth glaringly poorly cared for. He subconsciously assures himself by the weight of the handcrossbow tucked secretly away.

 

[Bobitron]

Back into the Mournlands again, Fury thought to himself. I hoped to avoid this forsaken land. I just hope the Lord of Blades does not become aware of my presence, but I do not expect my passage will go unseen...

 

[taitzu52]

Neville stands with his hound, Henry, sitting patiently next to him. His well worn travelling hat is secured on his head by a full chin strap, and his boots are tightly laced with his cuffs tucked in. Only a short sword, a waterskin, and his leather sidebag can be seen on his person, not very seeming of an overly cautious old man heading out into the most hostile territory in Korvaire. This is it, old man, he says to himself, TREK!!

 

[ShaggySpellsword]

Marcus gathers his things together, says one last praayer to the Flame, and starts off, along with the others, Arrow keeping at his side.

"Whomever has the map to get us where we are headed, lead...I will follow."

As they enter into the mist, Marcus strings hiw bow and knocks and arrow to it, ready to shoot any hostile that may show itself.

 

[Karl Green]

Mournlands, Mol, Third Week of Therendor, afternoon

(occ ok seems only 5 players left... my faught for being so slow, but anyway if others return I will edit, but right now... /occ)


With their two pack animals, Marcus, Neville, Fury, Amon and Azreal reach the Grey-Death Mist on the border into the Mournland. The mist wall seems to extent up hundreds of feet into the air and swills around as if blown by a gentle breeze that none of you feel. The two mules snort but don’t resist as the League pushes through into the Mist.

For a moment it feels like you are pushing through cotton or water when each first pushes through the edge of the Mist, but then the feeling is gone and you find yourselves on a grassless hard packed earth. No one can see more then 60 or so feet at the most, the Mist thick and fairly uniform. No breeze or wind can be felt and yet the Mist does seem to swill and move about. There are no sounds but the dull tread of your own feet and that of the pack mules. A strange sense of hopelessness and dreariness seems to roll over each of you… nothing to server but just a feeling that tickles the back of your mind.

Moving on the League travels for about an hour before coming out through the Mist to find them selves in the dreary lands of the former nation of Cyr. The League is on a small rise or hill that leads out onto a broad flat plain…once the breadbasket for the nation, it is now empty and dead. What planets you see are stunted and ugly… changed by the horror that transformed the land only a few years ago. While there are few clouds in the skies, there light is blunted and blocked somewhat here… looking up at the sun it seems that a thick fog or haze is partly blocking it.

As the League is about to start moving down onto the plain, following the lighting rail tracks, strange howls or noises can be heard coming from each side of the group, in the hills and from behind boulders from both the north and south of the group. And they are getting louder.

(occ a basic description of the area that you are in, the Grey-Death Mist is behind you about 40 or 50 feet. You are in some hills that lead down onto a board flat plain below you. There are boulders and some small ugly brush here, but the ‘pass’ that you are standing in is about 200 or so feet wide. The sounds are like the calls of an ape or monkey… but sickly and garbled somehow…
Actions? /occ)

 

[Keia]

Azreal, Half-Celestial Paladin/Warmage HP: 46/46 AC: 19

Once past the mist, Azreal took tothe air to try and lift his spirits. Heavy blue-white wings unfurled as he leapt from the ground skyward. He climbed to an altitude of about 60' above the rest of the group - looking for the source of the sounds . . . or any other trouble in this desolate realm.

"Wonderful . . . death and more death," Azreal muttered somewhat sarcastically.

OOC: Spot: +6, Listen +6. PS: I'm here, sorry for not posting.

 

[Karl Green]

(occ just a reminder if you want to make your own rolls you can. IF you want me to AND you might want to spend an Action Dice tell me what condition. Oh yea, if you want me to roll please ALWAYS include the bonuses and what skill or attack etc you are using. /occ)

 

[Bobitron]

Fury moves with heavy footfalls to the center of the group. "I hope Azreal can find out what the threat is. I am not comfortable walking into these hills blindly."

He swings his great head about, carefully scanning the pass for signs of the noisy creatures. Lifting his left arm, a small door slides open, revealing a clockwork machine of sorts with a short barrel. His featureless eyes, normally a flat grey, glow with soft red light.

"If something comes to intercept us, stand clear and allow me to rush the foe. I will be able to crush most enemies with my bulk.", he says simply.

OOC: Spot +6, Listen -1