Insight's Dark Sun: Burning Sands Campaign - IC

[Insight]

Amica feels something -- a presence -- in her mind. Something dark. Something obstructive. Something ominous. It feels like grease had been poured inside her head, just for a moment.

"I have my eye on you, little one..."

A few nearby guards look in Amica's direction, but their behavior doesn't suggest that they know anything.

 

[Walking Dad]

Korg

Korg dreamed... of hills with plants on it's roots and frozen water on his tops. Of dwarf-like creatures with enormous beards living in and under these hills... then he saw his wife Neela, as beautiful as on the day they met...

Korg awakens... he feels refreshed, but longs for seeing his wife's face longer. Or better, the sign what he should do next. As he realized he was transported to this mine, not where he her thought, it was to late to escape. But not only burns his frustration like fire, he was also patient like a rock and adaptable as water. His thoughts were still his own and they were free like the wind... he was able to quickly rise to a better position, his instinctive knowledge for mining, and endurance a big help.

Now he waits patient for a sign. He was ready and the guards don't know who he is, as he restrained himself so far to neither summon his primal aid, nor using his mind's power to grasp things. All he needed was a sign...

...
He passes Korg on each trip.

"Morning, Master Dwarf," he says with deference.

Kesh slows his pace in order to hear his reply.

Kesh looked absentmindedly at the elf. For what he knows, being captured was for him worse than for himself. But still, for his lithe frame, the elf has a nearly dwarven endurance. He admired him for it and for his stoic personality.

"Morning elf. Go on, I have to check the same direction!" Korg gestures to the guards that he will start his round now, as he answers Kesh. "So, how is it? Any new rumors?" He asks much quieter. Seeing his lean, nearly uncovered body, Korg things about the small perks of his position, like better clothes.

[sblock=OOC]

Would it be ok for Korg wearing the equivalent of leather armor? It is still much under his best possible armor.


[sblock=Mini stat block]
http://www.enworld.org/forum/5296910-post5.htmlKorg Wellspeaker
Perception: 19 Insight: 14 Low-light Vision
AC 13 Fortitude 12 Reflex 13 Will 15
Initiative: +0
Hit Points: 30 / 30 Bloodied: 15
Temporary Hit Points: 0
Resist:
Saving Throw: -
Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1
Healing Surge:7 Surges per day: 8 / 8
At-Will Powers: Telekinetic Grasp, Call Spirit Companion, Spirit's Wrath, Spirit Infusion, Haunting Spirits
Encounter Powers: Healing Spirit 2/2, Speak with Spirits, Spirit of Athas, Scorching Sand
Daily Powers: Cleansing Wind of the North

Condition:

[/sblock]

[/sblock]

 

[DistractingFlare]

Kesh walk along, pushing the heavy salt cart, unaware of the fact that his body has become frail and thin - his muscles have worn smooth, like pebbles eroded from crags to silt over the course of an age. His strength is gone - only his spirit remains.

He is, however, filled with a hidden delight at the dwarf's friendliness, and manages a quiet, excited reply.

"It goes the same as always, Master Firebelly. Cart goes in, salt comes out. It's the same every time. My mind wanders, though, my friend. I've heard no whispers or intrigues, but I know this: I'm ready to go. I trust you won't stop me when it's time."

Kesh deposits the cart at the loading station in the heart of the mine. He thinks of The Officer. He always thinks of The Officer. He looks for a knife. He's always looking for a knife.

 

[stonegod]

Be strong, she silently urged. Know that there is hope.

Hope is not needed. They will die.

Finishing the water, Zimno waited for someone to provide him with today's orders.

 

[Insight]

Finishing the water, Zimno waited for someone to provide him with today's orders.

After a few minutes, a dark-skinned man with a spider tattoo on his face approaches Zimno. "Elf," he says. The man produces a rolled-up parchment and hands it to Zimno. "Take this to Shaft A, B, and C. In that order. Then, return here. No exceptions. No dawdling. Remember, we're watching."

 

[Walking Dad]

Korg

Firebelly, the name I gave my captors... Korg muses as he continued his round. He made sure all the walls were stabilized enough, it wasn't in his interest to see the mine falling apart... at least not yet.
Patience, a sign will surely come...

ooc: Thoughts = Italized

[sblock=OOC]

Characters lastname is Wellspeaker, not Firebelly

Would it be ok for Korg wearing the equivalent of leather armor? It is still much under his best possible armor.


[sblock=Mini stat block]
Korg Wellspeaker
Perception: 19 Insight: 14 Low-light Vision
AC 13 Fortitude 12 Reflex 13 Will 15
Initiative: +0
Hit Points: 30 / 30 Bloodied: 15
Temporary Hit Points: 0
Resist:
Saving Throw: -
Action Points: 1 Second Wind: 1
Healing Surge:7 Surges per day: 8 / 8
At-Will Powers: Telekinetic Grasp, Call Spirit Companion, Spirit's Wrath, Spirit Infusion, Haunting Spirits
Encounter Powers: Healing Spirit 2/2, Speak with Spirits, Spirit of Athas, Scorching Sand
Daily Powers: Cleansing Wind of the North

Condition:

[/sblock][/sblock]

 

[stonegod]

Zimno sneers at his address, but takes the paper. The guards then pull him away, out of the tent and back into the camp.

The walk to the tunnels passes as it always did—in darkness—and soon he felt the relative coolness of the cavern overhead. Shoved roughly forward, his shackles and blindfold were removed.

He blinked a moment, his eyes always taking a moment to adjust. As always, he was in the room that screened the outside off, leaving only the inner caves visible. A sneered again at their preparations. One day, it would for naught.

And with that, he twisted between here and there, on his way down the caves. A, B, C.

 

[Shayuri]

When the other presence touched her mind, Amica mentally pulled back sharply from Zimno, like a kid with her hand in a cookie jar when caught by an adult. The fear was short and sharp, and she managed to keep her reaction down to a widening of her eyes, and a quick intake of breath. She stepped back, bowed at the guards, and hurried back to the kitchen.

All this time, she'd thought she had secrets. What a fool she'd been. They'd sensed her from the start, been watching her and waiting for her to reveal herself.

This changed things. She couldn't depend on acting with surprise anymore. She would have to wait for an opportune moment...and be strong enough to risk death.

 

[DistractingFlare]

"Patience," mutters Kesh. "Patience is a virtue of those who idle away their will. It's a trait for obedient children, not for those touched by the hand of oppression."

He continues onward with the dwarf, mumbling to himself, his mind wandering, his cart becoming empty and full again, as he paces back and forth in the heat of the day.

 

[Insight]

When the other presence touched her mind, Amica mentally pulled back sharply from Zimno, like a kid with her hand in a cookie jar when caught by an adult. The fear was short and sharp, and she managed to keep her reaction down to a widening of her eyes, and a quick intake of breath. She stepped back, bowed at the guards, and hurried back to the kitchen.

When she arrives in the kitchen, Amica notices several slaves taking buckets of water hurriedly out of the kitchen supply and into the open area beyond the main House Njeer tent. Looking out, Amica sees another giant tent, the view into which is completely blocked. Amica has seen this tent many times and always found it mysterious. She sees the slaves carry buckets to the tent and place them before the tent's opening. They stay there for a moment before red-clad arms reach out and take the buckets. The slaves then rush back into the House Njeer tent.