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Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8962777" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Kery's Horror - 3/12/2023</strong></p><p></p><p>The room had been used for many purposes. Once in the past, it probably housed acolytes to the evil shrine nearby before the inhabitants lost their lives to the army that came to purge the temple of their filth. After that, it became a den to bugbears who probably served the new masters for coin and the chance to spill blood. But they found their den invaded and their blood spilled instead, by the very group that now rested there.</p><p></p><p>Not that one could tell from looking into the room, for in the middle of the wreckage of furnishing smashed in combat new and old, sat a dark hemisphere, four paces across. The filthy ogres clad in black robes, saw it and after looking at each other, shrugged. They had seen many strange things in the temple, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise. They cautiously stepped inside the room and picked up the fallen bugbear corpses and seeing that no violence erupted, simply departed in haste leaving the black dome in silence.</p><p></p><p>Inside the dome, it was a different affair. The child Linda was fast asleep, wrapped tightly in a rope like a mummy waiting to be entombed. Her body leaned against the slumbering tortle, Bac who chuckled with a leering grin in his sleep. Along another edge the human Yu-Mi slept peacefully, with a winsome smile that betrayed no concerns or worries. This was a vast difference compared to the other two.</p><p></p><p>Claude leaned against a broken bit of furniture unmoving, his eyes covered with a silk mask. His small hin frame now slightly bloated and his skin an unhealthy shade of green, unmoving as his chest did not rise and fall like Yu-Mi or Linda's did. He was as still as the bugbears were before their bodies were taken away; cold and lifeless. </p><p></p><p>Quietly he raised his hand up and peeled upwards the mask to glance at the others sleeping around him. His eyes flicked over to look at the restrained child, lingering there before glancing at Bac, frowning. Then he looked at the human, lost in the rapture of her dreams snoring lightly, before finally looking at the raven-haired woman, who lay in an uncomfortable position on her belly on the ground, instead of laying on the ceiling, looking down upon the rest as was her normal habit.</p><p></p><p>Kery was indeed uncomfortable in more than one sense. She looked at the hin through her hair that hung over her eyes, concealing her wakefulness. Sleep was elusive, and rest and respite even farther from her. She could barely see him, through her watering eyes, which spilled onto the flagstone she laid upon. Like Claude, she didn’t breathe. Like Claude her heart was still. Like Claude she was cursed to be on the borders of death, never quite crossing.</p><p></p><p>But Claude was far closer to death, and for a while, she was certain that he had died. Kery knew many ways to kill people: with a bolt to the heart, a flash of a blade across the throat the most common. She knew of even more exotic ways as well; some painful, some extremely painful, and others just practical. Her teeth were weapons, which fed her; kept her alive and would briefly slake her never ending thirst.</p><p></p><p>It was worse on this day, as most of her own blood was spilled, and she was unable to claim any for herself. She was very close to asking one of them to grant her an indulgence and do something she had never dared; to taste a comrade’s blood to quell the hunger. She had instead coped using her skills to steal things and let the thrill of not being caught ease her discomfort. She’d probably quietly return things later; but that never seemed to be effective against her gnawing hunger. But she had never killed someone by accident. It was always her choice. Her hand. Her decision. </p><p></p><p>But mere hours ago, in an attempt to save Claude from bleeding out she fed him an elixir to restore his health. Never mind the fresh warm blood that surrounded him on the floor was like a feast to her, wasted on the floor. She was almost ready to lick the floor clean of it, rather than ask for help. But she was practical; two companions were on the floor. She had two elixirs to heal them both.</p><p></p><p>But fate was a cruel mistress and dealt Claude a losing hand. The vial contained not life, but death. A poison that was strong enough to drop an ogre, and it easily took Claude instead. Afterwards Kery realized that one of them was likely going to die; Claude happened to be the victim and it saved Yu-Mi by chance. Kery was already sick to her stomach with the knowledge that it was her hand that killed him. But she wasn’t ready for what happened next.</p><p></p><p>She had drained the blood of others, until they perished with her jaw clamped around their neck. And yet they didn’t become a creature like her. And yet now his death mocked her, as he seemed to join her in a state of not being alive. When he sat up and talked, Kery nearly screamed. She wanted to run in terror from what she had done. She instead steeled herself and pressed her ear to his chest, and quivered in fear, silently as she listened with dread.</p><p></p><p>No sound of breathing.</p><p></p><p>No heartbeat.</p><p></p><p>What have I done? </p><p></p><p>It was the only thought in her head now. She killed him, and yet now he was…something else. She was the last person to touch him when he lived, and he was a stone-cold corpse soon after. But as the last warmth left the hin, Bac had picked him up to carry him back to the surface. And it was then, he…arose, struggling to free himself from, what he probably thought was, Bac’s lecherous grasp. But somehow, that couldn’t be the reason he returned from the grave.</p><p></p><p>It had to be Kery; her curse must have found a way to spread. What else could it be? Who else could have done it? What made any more sense?</p><p></p><p>So, she watched, her breath and heart as still as Claude’s crying, praying to St. Cuthbert for mercy. To take her instead, and not let this curse infect the others. It wasn’t fair to them. If she was being punished for her violent choices, others shouldn’t pay the price. Tomorrow she would need to do something. Apologize? What would contrition be to the druid? ‘Sorry’ didn’t seem…adequate. Would he want vengeance? Her own heart staked, and mouth filled with holy wafers to the other’s laughter? What would be enough?</p><p></p><p>Kery’s tears slowed as exhaustion finally set in, and sleep took her. She never saw Claude pull on the rope, checking to see if the child was secure. Claude then shrugged and muttered, “Probably for the best” and lowered the mask to cover his dead eyes once again</p><p></p><p><strong>Session Notes</strong></p><p>Keryasa is a dhampir with a guilt complex. Survivors guilt, and a firm belief she's cursed by the gods for the unliving state she's in. Her main objective is money, hopefully to buy a penance from St. Cuthbert to become normal. Is it possible? Kery doesn't know, but she's keenly aware when bad things happen though.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8962777, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Kery's Horror - 3/12/2023[/B][/CENTER] The room had been used for many purposes. Once in the past, it probably housed acolytes to the evil shrine nearby before the inhabitants lost their lives to the army that came to purge the temple of their filth. After that, it became a den to bugbears who probably served the new masters for coin and the chance to spill blood. But they found their den invaded and their blood spilled instead, by the very group that now rested there. Not that one could tell from looking into the room, for in the middle of the wreckage of furnishing smashed in combat new and old, sat a dark hemisphere, four paces across. The filthy ogres clad in black robes, saw it and after looking at each other, shrugged. They had seen many strange things in the temple, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise. They cautiously stepped inside the room and picked up the fallen bugbear corpses and seeing that no violence erupted, simply departed in haste leaving the black dome in silence. Inside the dome, it was a different affair. The child Linda was fast asleep, wrapped tightly in a rope like a mummy waiting to be entombed. Her body leaned against the slumbering tortle, Bac who chuckled with a leering grin in his sleep. Along another edge the human Yu-Mi slept peacefully, with a winsome smile that betrayed no concerns or worries. This was a vast difference compared to the other two. Claude leaned against a broken bit of furniture unmoving, his eyes covered with a silk mask. His small hin frame now slightly bloated and his skin an unhealthy shade of green, unmoving as his chest did not rise and fall like Yu-Mi or Linda's did. He was as still as the bugbears were before their bodies were taken away; cold and lifeless. Quietly he raised his hand up and peeled upwards the mask to glance at the others sleeping around him. His eyes flicked over to look at the restrained child, lingering there before glancing at Bac, frowning. Then he looked at the human, lost in the rapture of her dreams snoring lightly, before finally looking at the raven-haired woman, who lay in an uncomfortable position on her belly on the ground, instead of laying on the ceiling, looking down upon the rest as was her normal habit. Kery was indeed uncomfortable in more than one sense. She looked at the hin through her hair that hung over her eyes, concealing her wakefulness. Sleep was elusive, and rest and respite even farther from her. She could barely see him, through her watering eyes, which spilled onto the flagstone she laid upon. Like Claude, she didn’t breathe. Like Claude her heart was still. Like Claude she was cursed to be on the borders of death, never quite crossing. But Claude was far closer to death, and for a while, she was certain that he had died. Kery knew many ways to kill people: with a bolt to the heart, a flash of a blade across the throat the most common. She knew of even more exotic ways as well; some painful, some extremely painful, and others just practical. Her teeth were weapons, which fed her; kept her alive and would briefly slake her never ending thirst. It was worse on this day, as most of her own blood was spilled, and she was unable to claim any for herself. She was very close to asking one of them to grant her an indulgence and do something she had never dared; to taste a comrade’s blood to quell the hunger. She had instead coped using her skills to steal things and let the thrill of not being caught ease her discomfort. She’d probably quietly return things later; but that never seemed to be effective against her gnawing hunger. But she had never killed someone by accident. It was always her choice. Her hand. Her decision. But mere hours ago, in an attempt to save Claude from bleeding out she fed him an elixir to restore his health. Never mind the fresh warm blood that surrounded him on the floor was like a feast to her, wasted on the floor. She was almost ready to lick the floor clean of it, rather than ask for help. But she was practical; two companions were on the floor. She had two elixirs to heal them both. But fate was a cruel mistress and dealt Claude a losing hand. The vial contained not life, but death. A poison that was strong enough to drop an ogre, and it easily took Claude instead. Afterwards Kery realized that one of them was likely going to die; Claude happened to be the victim and it saved Yu-Mi by chance. Kery was already sick to her stomach with the knowledge that it was her hand that killed him. But she wasn’t ready for what happened next. She had drained the blood of others, until they perished with her jaw clamped around their neck. And yet they didn’t become a creature like her. And yet now his death mocked her, as he seemed to join her in a state of not being alive. When he sat up and talked, Kery nearly screamed. She wanted to run in terror from what she had done. She instead steeled herself and pressed her ear to his chest, and quivered in fear, silently as she listened with dread. No sound of breathing. No heartbeat. What have I done? It was the only thought in her head now. She killed him, and yet now he was…something else. She was the last person to touch him when he lived, and he was a stone-cold corpse soon after. But as the last warmth left the hin, Bac had picked him up to carry him back to the surface. And it was then, he…arose, struggling to free himself from, what he probably thought was, Bac’s lecherous grasp. But somehow, that couldn’t be the reason he returned from the grave. It had to be Kery; her curse must have found a way to spread. What else could it be? Who else could have done it? What made any more sense? So, she watched, her breath and heart as still as Claude’s crying, praying to St. Cuthbert for mercy. To take her instead, and not let this curse infect the others. It wasn’t fair to them. If she was being punished for her violent choices, others shouldn’t pay the price. Tomorrow she would need to do something. Apologize? What would contrition be to the druid? ‘Sorry’ didn’t seem…adequate. Would he want vengeance? Her own heart staked, and mouth filled with holy wafers to the other’s laughter? What would be enough? Kery’s tears slowed as exhaustion finally set in, and sleep took her. She never saw Claude pull on the rope, checking to see if the child was secure. Claude then shrugged and muttered, “Probably for the best” and lowered the mask to cover his dead eyes once again [B]Session Notes[/B] Keryasa is a dhampir with a guilt complex. Survivors guilt, and a firm belief she's cursed by the gods for the unliving state she's in. Her main objective is money, hopefully to buy a penance from St. Cuthbert to become normal. Is it possible? Kery doesn't know, but she's keenly aware when bad things happen though. [/QUOTE]
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