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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
Remnants of the Horde-Flight from Aruth
- Thread starter Uriel
- Start date
Velenne
Explorer
Durgo turns to the assembled motley crew and waves them forward. Returning his gaze to the door, he proceeds without further word or show. The ogre has had his fill of grubs and leeches, however, and is ready to try anything else. Still, he trusts nothing of what he sees, especially when it comes to Mojo like this. Durgo is tense and ready to draw iron at the first threat...
Orochi
First Post
As Kurg's mystically enhanced senses fade/fail (depending on what ahppened with the detect magic) he moves forward, keeping his flail low, but s6till in hand, both for it's value as a holy symbol and for its use as a weapon, should the need arise. He is also careful to keep near Bargo, to allow the beast to stand in the path of any oncoming threat.
Uriel
Living EN World Judge
Kurg Detected enchantments all about the Cottage and the immediate Environs.
There were many Illusion signatures about the place, as well as incrediby strong Conjuration/Creation magic coming from the Cottage itself.
To a lesser extent, there are a fair amount of Evocation/Elemental signatures showing about the place in various spots. Perhaps Servants of some sort?
The Troll waits until all are withing, barely noticing any of you to any great extent, although the left head does salivate a bit when Midnight Fang comes near.
Once inside, the troll closes the Door, which is accompanied by a resounding
Clang , and the smell of burnt peat. The insides resemble more a Castle than any mere Cottage, with vaulted ceilings reaching to heights of 20 or 30 feet, complete with gargoyles upon darkened leadges (some of which hiss as you stare) and torch sconces at regular intervals (every 15 feet).The Troll turns and moves down the Hallway with a dignified gait that one might expect in an Elven Hold or when in the presence of Royalty.
The Left Head periodically turns back to stare at one or another of the smaller members of your party, salivating and winking conspiritorialy. The Right Head ignores these minor social infractions (though perhaps to a Troll such things are normal...)
as it leads the way down the Hall, passing Doors on the right and left at without so much as a glance. Each door bears a bas-relief of some scene, a Blizzard here (with doomed travellers), a Hellish Firey landscape there with burning forms, wreathed in flame there. Finally the Troll stops at a massive set of double doors on the right, lifting a keyring that must weigh fifty pounds, he selects a silver key and inserts it, unlocking the Door.
Within is a waiting room, with low stone benches, two tables and a large pitcher and several cups (these made from silvered skulls of various sorts, elves mostly, though the skulls of a dwarf as well as an Ogre lie amongst the setting).
The Troll turns to you and says 'I return for you in one hour, the Madam is busy, but she is...' he pauses, the two heads looking at one another, then continues '... eager to meet envoys of Great Zuregath,for she knows it be He that you serve.' The Troll then departs the room.
Not five minutes later, the Doors unlock, and a trio of servants (all wearing tattered finery) enter. An Orc bearing a tray of roats meats of some sort, these rare and bloody. A second servant (a one-eyed Bugbear) bears a massive bowl of greens, some spicy smelling marsh weeds, caked in garlic.The third servant is an Ogre, this one with his mouth stitched shut. He bears a sack, a form struggling within.
The Ogre opens the sack, depositing a fat human, some unlucky soul caught on the Marsh's edge, no doubt. The human is trussed and bound, his eyes staring in silent horror at the assemblage before him. The Orc smiles and snarls in heavily accented Myrachian 'Dinner for the Honored Guests' before he waves the others out and departs.
An odd reception in deed...
*Anal Spelling Edit*
There were many Illusion signatures about the place, as well as incrediby strong Conjuration/Creation magic coming from the Cottage itself.
To a lesser extent, there are a fair amount of Evocation/Elemental signatures showing about the place in various spots. Perhaps Servants of some sort?
The Troll waits until all are withing, barely noticing any of you to any great extent, although the left head does salivate a bit when Midnight Fang comes near.
Once inside, the troll closes the Door, which is accompanied by a resounding
Clang , and the smell of burnt peat. The insides resemble more a Castle than any mere Cottage, with vaulted ceilings reaching to heights of 20 or 30 feet, complete with gargoyles upon darkened leadges (some of which hiss as you stare) and torch sconces at regular intervals (every 15 feet).The Troll turns and moves down the Hallway with a dignified gait that one might expect in an Elven Hold or when in the presence of Royalty.
The Left Head periodically turns back to stare at one or another of the smaller members of your party, salivating and winking conspiritorialy. The Right Head ignores these minor social infractions (though perhaps to a Troll such things are normal...)
as it leads the way down the Hall, passing Doors on the right and left at without so much as a glance. Each door bears a bas-relief of some scene, a Blizzard here (with doomed travellers), a Hellish Firey landscape there with burning forms, wreathed in flame there. Finally the Troll stops at a massive set of double doors on the right, lifting a keyring that must weigh fifty pounds, he selects a silver key and inserts it, unlocking the Door.
Within is a waiting room, with low stone benches, two tables and a large pitcher and several cups (these made from silvered skulls of various sorts, elves mostly, though the skulls of a dwarf as well as an Ogre lie amongst the setting).
The Troll turns to you and says 'I return for you in one hour, the Madam is busy, but she is...' he pauses, the two heads looking at one another, then continues '... eager to meet envoys of Great Zuregath,for she knows it be He that you serve.' The Troll then departs the room.
Not five minutes later, the Doors unlock, and a trio of servants (all wearing tattered finery) enter. An Orc bearing a tray of roats meats of some sort, these rare and bloody. A second servant (a one-eyed Bugbear) bears a massive bowl of greens, some spicy smelling marsh weeds, caked in garlic.The third servant is an Ogre, this one with his mouth stitched shut. He bears a sack, a form struggling within.
The Ogre opens the sack, depositing a fat human, some unlucky soul caught on the Marsh's edge, no doubt. The human is trussed and bound, his eyes staring in silent horror at the assemblage before him. The Orc smiles and snarls in heavily accented Myrachian 'Dinner for the Honored Guests' before he waves the others out and departs.
An odd reception in deed...
*Anal Spelling Edit*
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Velenne
Explorer
Durgo looks fascinated by all the food. His stomach growls, even though the day before he had feasted on elf until he was fat. The plump, juicy swamp bugs had been an appetizer compared to this.
But he does not eat. When the ogres and giants had met each year for the renewing of the "peace" treaty (meaning no wars would be fought, but some raiding was acceptable), the Gulgathans fasted. And so it was that the custom began to never feast at your enemy's table. And he certainly did not trust these hags with ogre cups and ogre slaves...
So Durgo sits and fumes as the band eats all around him. Meanwhile, he tries to think about how he's going to get out of the swamps alive to complete his mission.
But he does not eat. When the ogres and giants had met each year for the renewing of the "peace" treaty (meaning no wars would be fought, but some raiding was acceptable), the Gulgathans fasted. And so it was that the custom began to never feast at your enemy's table. And he certainly did not trust these hags with ogre cups and ogre slaves...
So Durgo sits and fumes as the band eats all around him. Meanwhile, he tries to think about how he's going to get out of the swamps alive to complete his mission.
Capellan
Explorer
Wekerak stares suspiciously at the garlic-smeared vegetables. His people are meat-eating hunters, not plant-eating prey!
Curling his lip at the insult of being offered prey-food, the goblin does not eat, though his eyes often stray to the juicy, marbled flesh of Bargo's plump victim.
Curling his lip at the insult of being offered prey-food, the goblin does not eat, though his eyes often stray to the juicy, marbled flesh of Bargo's plump victim.
Orochi
First Post
Kurg's maw opens as the ogre whelp impales the fat prey on his blade. Almost unthinkingly, he edges closer, only resisting at the last moment the urge to simply bite a piece from the rapidly dying body, remembering the psychotic temperment of the monster.
"Kurg take fleshy man arm, while skin still warm and pink?
"Kurg take fleshy man arm, while skin still warm and pink?
Mickerus
First Post
As the group walks down the hall, Sellanais bites her lip and lingers for a moment to examine the door featuring the hellish landscape, then quickly moves to catch up with the others.
In the waiting room, she seats herself alone at one of the tables and initially ignores the "banquet," instead discreetly examining her most recent acquisitions. When she's taken a satisfactory inventory, she rises to get something to eat, wrinkling her nose at the remains of the human and muttering "Human blood smells so disgusting..." beneath her breath.
In the waiting room, she seats herself alone at one of the tables and initially ignores the "banquet," instead discreetly examining her most recent acquisitions. When she's taken a satisfactory inventory, she rises to get something to eat, wrinkling her nose at the remains of the human and muttering "Human blood smells so disgusting..." beneath her breath.
