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<blockquote data-quote="MerakSpielman" data-source="post: 1128669" data-attributes="member: 7464"><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Session 1 (Part 1 of 2):</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Out of the shadows of the small cavern, a cold female voice speaks.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“We are all here? Good.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">The speaker moves forward, pulling a brightly glowing rod from her black robes. The coal-black skin of her face is thrown into stark relief, and her crimson eyes reflect the light menacingly. She places the rod on a small boulder near the center of the room and steps back.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“We can all see in the dark, true, but it is best to meet each other for the first time with some proper light.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Other figures emerge from the shadows in pairs. In each pair, one figure stands confident and almost radiating competence and power, and the other a sort of cautious expectation and obsequiousness. They all eye each other grimly and not a little suspiciously.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">The Drow speaks again, “For most of us, we are meeting for the first time. For those of you who are new to this, this meeting is incredibly risky. It is a testament to the importance of this venture that we are willing to take this risk.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">She stands in silence for a moment as though to allow the gravity of these words to sink in.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“You have all been briefed on the nature of the organization GRIPE. We, your long-time mentors, represent the entire current membership of this group, and beyond the people in this cave, absolutely no one suspects our existence. This is essential to our plans, and though you have already heard this, I must reiterate that under NO conditions is any information about our group to be disseminated to anybody outside this group.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">She glares at the apprentices each in turn as she speaks, meeting their gazes with her chilling red eyes.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“The current members are already familiar with each other. Though it seems a bit trite, I suggest that we go around the circle and allow you newcomers to introduce yourselves.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">One of the figures gives a snort of amused disgust. The Drow raises an eyebrow at him, “Very well, Derro, if you are so eager, you may begin.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">The young Derro hesitates, but his mentor shoves him hard in the back and he stomps forward, surveying the people arrayed around him. He grins, and the others cannot help but feel that it is the grin of a predator as it contemplates the prospect of easy prey. </span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“I am Strak, a Ranger. It is the job of the Derro Rangers to track down those who enter our territory, kill most of them, and take the rest back for cannibalistic ritual sacrifice. This is a job I enjoy.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">This statement unsettles many of the others apprentices in the circle visibly, though they regain their composure quickly. Strak laughs at their expressions, and returns to his place in the circle.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“Charmed,” says the Drow spokeswoman, smiling and turning to the next apprentice to be introduced.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">A young kobold female jumps agilely forward, whirling a set of iron nunchukus, “And I,” she says grandly in a reptilian, high-pitched whine, “am Slash Asunder, the most marvelous Edgemaster you are ever likely to meet. I do things with weapons you could never hope to imitate.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">She gives the group around her a long, toothy grin.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Somebody calls out, “Edgemaster huh? Shouldn’t you be using, say, something that has an edge? Like a sword?”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Without the slightest hint of hesitation or annoyance, Slash responds, “Not so good sir! The title Edgemaster indicates a broad array of expertise in virtually all weapons! Do not fear, however, for I shall not hold your ignorance against you.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">She gives a short bark of a laugh and leaps back to her place, where she strikes an impressive pose and turns to look at the next speaker, who sighs and moves up.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">She is clearly a half-Drow, half-Human, and her eyes flicker over the full Drow in the room, as though afraid that she is about to be judged as instantly as an abomination to the race. They merely look back at her, expressionless. She sighs again.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“I am Triesste. I’m half-Drow…”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“We can tell what you are, mongrel,” calls Strak, obviously enjoying her discomfort and evident stage fright.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“… and I explore and get things done,” she continues vaguely.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“What sorts of ‘things,’” calls Strak.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“All kinds of things. Roguish things, more often than not.” Triesste is obviously getting more than a little annoyed, and trying to keep her exact specialty private. She puts her hand on her rapier-hilt, obviously intending to look a bit intimidating, but failing miserably, she stalks back to her place.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Next to take the floor is a male Drow, unarmored, but with a set of nunchukus attached to his belt. The female Drow speaker and her apprentice, who had not registered any emotion when presented with Triesste, both looked as though they were trying to repress sneers, as though they were being addressed by a servant who has forgotten his place.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">He spoke, a quiet, high, soft voice, “I am Crystal. I am an old friend of Slash, whom you have already met. For several years we traveled in a troupe together, entertaining the masses with our acrobatic talents.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Before he can be prompted to speak further, he returns to his spot. </span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Next, the apprentice of the Drow spokeswoman steps forward. She is dressed in a flowing black cloak over a simple rust-colored robe, both of which together still fail to hide her almost skeletal frame. Her black face is thin and gaunt, and she is shorter than the average Drow female. Her long white hair is drawn up into a severe bun, fastened in place with a bone-white spider-shaped clasp. She speaks quietly:</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“I am Beltana Noquar.”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“And what do you do, Beltana?” calls Strak.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">She looks at him across the circle and, without smiling, says softly, “I do enough,” and steps slowly back next to her mentor, who motions for the last apprentice to come up.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Another Kobold steps into the light. She is wearing proudly the holy symbol of Boccob and carries a steel crossbow. She clicks her teeth in an apparent acknowledgement of Slash, the other Kobold apprentice present, and stands up to her full three feet in height as she speaks.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“I am Zya Snaggletooth, cleric of Boccob, God of Magic,” and apparently deciding that this is enough introduction, turns around and walks back to the edge of the circle.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">The apprentices all eye their new companions, some more warily than others. It is clear that, though they all know they are required to work together to accomplish certain tasks, many of them do not trust the others enough to reveal much about themselves.</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">“Very well then,” says Beltana’s mentor, “shall we get on with business?”</span></span></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Next: </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 12px">Session 1 (Part 2 of 2): The mission is explained, the group meets a strange new foe, and a clue is discovered.</span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="MerakSpielman, post: 1128669, member: 7464"] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Session 1 (Part 1 of 2):[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Out of the shadows of the small cavern, a cold female voice speaks.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“We are all here? Good.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]The speaker moves forward, pulling a brightly glowing rod from her black robes. The coal-black skin of her face is thrown into stark relief, and her crimson eyes reflect the light menacingly. She places the rod on a small boulder near the center of the room and steps back.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“We can all see in the dark, true, but it is best to meet each other for the first time with some proper light.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Other figures emerge from the shadows in pairs. In each pair, one figure stands confident and almost radiating competence and power, and the other a sort of cautious expectation and obsequiousness. They all eye each other grimly and not a little suspiciously.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]The Drow speaks again, “For most of us, we are meeting for the first time. For those of you who are new to this, this meeting is incredibly risky. It is a testament to the importance of this venture that we are willing to take this risk.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]She stands in silence for a moment as though to allow the gravity of these words to sink in.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“You have all been briefed on the nature of the organization GRIPE. We, your long-time mentors, represent the entire current membership of this group, and beyond the people in this cave, absolutely no one suspects our existence. This is essential to our plans, and though you have already heard this, I must reiterate that under NO conditions is any information about our group to be disseminated to anybody outside this group.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]She glares at the apprentices each in turn as she speaks, meeting their gazes with her chilling red eyes.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“The current members are already familiar with each other. Though it seems a bit trite, I suggest that we go around the circle and allow you newcomers to introduce yourselves.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]One of the figures gives a snort of amused disgust. The Drow raises an eyebrow at him, “Very well, Derro, if you are so eager, you may begin.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]The young Derro hesitates, but his mentor shoves him hard in the back and he stomps forward, surveying the people arrayed around him. He grins, and the others cannot help but feel that it is the grin of a predator as it contemplates the prospect of easy prey. [/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“I am Strak, a Ranger. It is the job of the Derro Rangers to track down those who enter our territory, kill most of them, and take the rest back for cannibalistic ritual sacrifice. This is a job I enjoy.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]This statement unsettles many of the others apprentices in the circle visibly, though they regain their composure quickly. Strak laughs at their expressions, and returns to his place in the circle.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“Charmed,” says the Drow spokeswoman, smiling and turning to the next apprentice to be introduced.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]A young kobold female jumps agilely forward, whirling a set of iron nunchukus, “And I,” she says grandly in a reptilian, high-pitched whine, “am Slash Asunder, the most marvelous Edgemaster you are ever likely to meet. I do things with weapons you could never hope to imitate.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]She gives the group around her a long, toothy grin.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Somebody calls out, “Edgemaster huh? Shouldn’t you be using, say, something that has an edge? Like a sword?”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Without the slightest hint of hesitation or annoyance, Slash responds, “Not so good sir! The title Edgemaster indicates a broad array of expertise in virtually all weapons! Do not fear, however, for I shall not hold your ignorance against you.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]She gives a short bark of a laugh and leaps back to her place, where she strikes an impressive pose and turns to look at the next speaker, who sighs and moves up.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]She is clearly a half-Drow, half-Human, and her eyes flicker over the full Drow in the room, as though afraid that she is about to be judged as instantly as an abomination to the race. They merely look back at her, expressionless. She sighs again.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“I am Triesste. I’m half-Drow…”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“We can tell what you are, mongrel,” calls Strak, obviously enjoying her discomfort and evident stage fright.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“… and I explore and get things done,” she continues vaguely.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“What sorts of ‘things,’” calls Strak.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“All kinds of things. Roguish things, more often than not.” Triesste is obviously getting more than a little annoyed, and trying to keep her exact specialty private. She puts her hand on her rapier-hilt, obviously intending to look a bit intimidating, but failing miserably, she stalks back to her place.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Next to take the floor is a male Drow, unarmored, but with a set of nunchukus attached to his belt. The female Drow speaker and her apprentice, who had not registered any emotion when presented with Triesste, both looked as though they were trying to repress sneers, as though they were being addressed by a servant who has forgotten his place.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]He spoke, a quiet, high, soft voice, “I am Crystal. I am an old friend of Slash, whom you have already met. For several years we traveled in a troupe together, entertaining the masses with our acrobatic talents.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Before he can be prompted to speak further, he returns to his spot. [/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Next, the apprentice of the Drow spokeswoman steps forward. She is dressed in a flowing black cloak over a simple rust-colored robe, both of which together still fail to hide her almost skeletal frame. Her black face is thin and gaunt, and she is shorter than the average Drow female. Her long white hair is drawn up into a severe bun, fastened in place with a bone-white spider-shaped clasp. She speaks quietly:[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“I am Beltana Noquar.”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“And what do you do, Beltana?” calls Strak.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]She looks at him across the circle and, without smiling, says softly, “I do enough,” and steps slowly back next to her mentor, who motions for the last apprentice to come up.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Another Kobold steps into the light. She is wearing proudly the holy symbol of Boccob and carries a steel crossbow. She clicks her teeth in an apparent acknowledgement of Slash, the other Kobold apprentice present, and stands up to her full three feet in height as she speaks.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“I am Zya Snaggletooth, cleric of Boccob, God of Magic,” and apparently deciding that this is enough introduction, turns around and walks back to the edge of the circle.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]The apprentices all eye their new companions, some more warily than others. It is clear that, though they all know they are required to work together to accomplish certain tasks, many of them do not trust the others enough to reveal much about themselves.[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]“Very well then,” says Beltana’s mentor, “shall we get on with business?”[/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Next: [/size][/font] [font=Times New Roman][size=3]Session 1 (Part 2 of 2): The mission is explained, the group meets a strange new foe, and a clue is discovered.[/size][/font] [/QUOTE]
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