RP over Yahoo Messenger
Hobbit_Killer, Dorgin_Malgard, and myself were all on Instant Messenger tonight--actually last night by the time I write this. So, we did a little continuation of the roleplay...below are the posted results of the 'mini-session'. A lot of it actually involved their relationship...but then we took it a little farther than I expected.
As a warning to the two that conspired with me during this...my computer crashed tonight and I lost the saved conversation. So...I had to go purely from memory. If there's something I didn't touch upon and you think I should--let me know. But I think I hit everything...and switched some of the speech around to give a little more balance.
so...without further delay....
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The strange middle-age man knelt with his head bowed in deference.
Cassock smirked and stepped closer; Ana followed suit—her bow prepared but pointed easily toward the floor.
“My lord…I did not know my task would be so quick and easy.”
“What are you doing here?” Rhynos demanded, his fingers still rippling with the eldritch energy.
“My Liege,” the man dared a glance upward, “you asked me to deliver this to you here.” He removed his hand from the satchel, clutched in his grasp were two sealed letters. Ana lowered the bow that had leapt upward at the sudden movement, scowling. One writ was sealed with a black glob of wax—he handed it to Rhynos. The other was closed with a red glob—this he prepared to open.
Rhynos frowned; the arcane energies dissipated. Cautiously, the warlock opened the letter. Soter leaned in—glancing toward the paper but Rhynos stretched upward, nearly snarling at the sorcerer. Leuo’s sorcerer shrugged and turned his mind to these strange events.
“Warlock! What is it?!” bellowed the priest. “What is in the letter—and who is this man?!”
The Grim Hand’s eyes darted back and forth—devouring the writ. As he reached the end of the parchment, Ana’s bow leapt in defense—Cassock’s blade danced from its scabbard—and Soter’s arms began the practiced motion of controlling the forces of the arcane weave. The writ burst into flames.
Rhynos smirked, “STOP, all of you.” The middle-aged man looked up as his own piece of parchment was consumed by fire and turned—almost immediately—to ash.
“What is going on here?”
“Cassock, Priest of Cael, you feel your destiny lies not here but back in our homeland, yes?” The sickly sweet words slithered from Rhynos’ mouth.
“Yes.”
“This, priest,” he said—not completely insultingly, “is Gregor Alexander Romura—a trusted associate.”
“You know him?”
“In a manner of speaking—yes I do. But I have another question for you, priest.”
“What would that be?” Cassock slid the sword back into its scabbard—a suspicious look creeping into his unshaven face.
The warlock’s mouth opened and his finger shot into the air, “One moment.” He turned first to Soter and then Gregor. “You are determined to travel with me?”
“Yes, my Liege,” the wizard answered obediently. “It is my destiny.”
“You know the path of your destiny do you?”
“Yes—unless it has changed since last you spoke with me.”
“Then you know that this is a one way trip for you.”
“Wha—”
“If you return with us, there is no coming back for you—unless you don’t age.”
“Y-yes my Liege,” Gregor stuttered.
“Very well.” The warlock spun to the sorcerer, “And you, Soter? Do you wish to accompany us? There will be no return for you either.”
“Where are we going?”
“Not where. When. We are returning to our home—and for you to travel with us would be a death sentence.”
“Backward? Will it help Leuo?”
The warlock frowned. “It may. There were no Caeliban in our time. Perhaps, you can prevent your village’s suffering.”
“Help or not, you won’t want to be here after we leave,” Gregor added coldly.
“Then I will go.”
“I need your unwavering loyalty,” Rhynos demanded from both.
“Yes, my Liege.”
“Of course,” answered the sorcerer confoundedly.
“Cassock,” Rhynos directed the words toward the priest, “then I offer my services to you.”
“Services?”
“You may have leadership of this—”the warlock smiled sardonically—“merry band. I pledge myself to you—as an advisor.”
“And what exactly do I get out of this? I fail to see the difference.” He leveled a stern gaze at the warlock but Rhynos just shrugged it off.
“I know how to return home, priest.” Cassock’s jaw opened wide with shock.
“Yes, but, Liege—we’ll have to go soon,” Gregor hissed. “Unexpected guests will be arriving momentarily—and we shouldn’t get caught in the crossfire.”
“Who?” At Gregor’s widening eyes, the warlock demanded, “Humor me—enlighten me.”
“The Kaeruniban, Lord. Don’t you remember? It was scarcely more than an hour ago that you spoke to me…” the words trailed off into a few stuttering moments of ambiguity. “The Sons of Kaeruna? The Sons of Law? The Allies of Aedil?” Gregor’s face dropped in shock. “The Machines with Soul? Do you not remember? General Mechae will be arriving with a contingent of soldiers momentarily—there is a blood feud between he and Lok—do you not remember that either?”
“Yes…yes…” Turning to the others, he posited, “Is there any way we can use that chamber (#18)?”
Cassock’s smirk returned in full. “NO”
“Why not?”
“It is laden with energy,” Soter added hopefully.
“Because,” the priest answered, “that chamber is of the foulest of magicks. It will not help us.”
“What do you mean? Explain.”
“Perhaps I should be the advisor,” Cassock smugly muttered. Rhynos bit his tongue. “Don’t you recognize the room? The runes? The layout? What about the very substance it has been crafted from?”
“Yes. It looks like that tower near Llewyllyn Manor. What of it?”
“It is a birthing room. You remember the woman in the bottom of the tower—the one that had been pregnant—split open and a child had climbed out…”
“WHAT OF IT?”
“The child was—within ten paces—completely grown…”
“YES?!?!”
“I saw the same event in that chamber this morning…or at least the beginnings of the event before Lok had me thrown out to deal with an intruder.” Cassock smirked toward the wizard.
“I can vouch for the end,” interjected Gregor, ignoring the disrespectful glance. “The woman this morning was split in twain during the birth. Within seconds the child was full grown and speaking. Then, like Lok, he vanished.”
“It’s beginning to make sense now. Those papers—from the towers…”
“—talked of an experiment,” Ana interjected.
“Do you think it was the first Caeliban?” Rhynos asked of no one in particular.
“I don’t know if it was the first,” Cassock answered. “But it would have had to have been one of the elder ones…” His mind immediately jumped toward Master Lok.
“There may be hope, yet, for your village, Soter,” Rhynos murmured.
“We need to go,” Gregor reminded.
“Yes—but what can we use?” the warlock demanded.
“There was a portal—” the wizard suggested.
“Incomplete though,” clarified Soter.
“True—”
“What would it take to get it up and running?” Rhynos questioned.
“Weeks of work,” stated the sorcerer.
“And casters beyond my experience,” added the wizard resentfully.
It’s good to see you feel something, at least, murmured Cassock.
“Is there time?” Rhynos arched his eyebrow in thought.
Gregor nearly laughed. “NO. There is no time. We need to follow the river Leuo—past the village and to a lake. There is a cave—”
“We know all about the Cardinis Chamber, Gregor,” admonished the warlock.
“Of course. Well—inside there is a key—”
“You mean this?” Rhynos pulled the metal disk from his pocket—engraved upon its surface, the planar cosmology shone dully with an inner light.
“Ah…yes, my Liege. That is the key.” Gregor bowed deferentially again. Cassock rolled his eyes.
“We should go,” Cassock decided. “No time to lose.”
“Don’t want to get caught in the crossfire,” added the wizard quietly.
The party quickly gathered their gear and turned to exit the room. From somewhere above, a large crash rang—rumbled rather like thunder—down the vertical shaft and throughout the Burrows.
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That last bit [the bold and italic part] was not told the other two players. And thus, they have no prep-time for response...let the roleplaying/play-by-posting resume.
Sincerely, Your Wanna-Be-RBDM, Fune
