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Session Stories - Moments in Roleplaying (updated 6/15/2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 8340187" data-attributes="member: 6971069"><p style="text-align: center"><strong>Story X - Naked Fear - 7/14/2021</strong></p><p></p><p>The party stood at the top of the stairs looking down with trepidation. The puzzle the Lich had presented was nothing short of a gauntlet hidden behind the carved facades of wardrobe. Each one a taste of a faraway plane and each providing a surprise. But this wasn’t clear at first to Arnara, until a door summoned back a slain foe, Old Yarrick. In the distance of the plane beyond, was a crimson sky, with an iron cube, hanging like a baleful moon in the distance. On then did she piece together a story Myrai told her. A place where the spirits of Gruumush’s and Maglubyiet’s followers fought each other in eternal combat on the plane of Acheron. A plane of iron cubes colliding with each other, allowing enteral war to spread from place to place.</p><p></p><p>Old Yarrack was tougher than before and he seemed to remember them in a haze of hate. But he was a minor distraction as was the Osyluth from Baator and the wisps from the Shadowfell. But it was the Mezzoloths from Gehenna that almost killed them. Arnara remembered Myrai saying that the ‘Loths’ were the epitome of selfish evil, and they were all fearsome opponents. She wasn’t wrong, as the poison fumes the fiends emitted, burned at Arnara’s lungs and skin. They were cagey, adapting to the sudden change of Rafelor into a Sword Titan, by simply dismissing the magic. The toxic clouds, the loss of light were all new problems they had to fight through. It made the sad appearance of a hapless monodrone from Mechanus seem like a cruel joke; on the monodrone. But somehow Arnara guessed the monodrone wouldn’t get it, as much as Arnara didn’t understand Acerarak’s strange joke of going to different worlds using furniture meant for clothing.</p><p></p><p>But where the challenge and the fear were a straightforward response to a fight to the death. It was very understandable. The newest gauntlet was a different matter.</p><p></p><p>Looking down the hall, there were signs of decay. Broken bits of armor, shields and weapons scattered across the floor, all in from of graven mural of corpses and death along the wall. Just looking down the hall gave Arnara the shivers, and the sense of a trap that was waiting to entertain their hidden opponent.</p><p></p><p><em>--Let someone else go first. No! Let them ALL go first. Least risk risk risk </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Quiet Obo’laka! Hard enough to thi--</em></p><p></p><p>“I’ll go down first,” Shalai said.</p><p></p><p>--<em>See see! Let the sacrificial lamb..no GOAT go. Let him find the trap!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Obo’laka, I need you to--</em></p><p></p><p>“Aaaauggh!” the human screamed, and Arnara shook her mind free from Obo’Laka’s ravings. Her sword drawn, she looked for the foe or the trap that Shalai faced. But as she looked around, she was puzzled; she saw nothing around Shalai; just him patting his clothing madly. Arnara was about to step forward to ascertain what was wrong when Aegis spoke.</p><p></p><p>“His…clothes!”</p><p></p><p>With horror she now understood the graven mural; it wasn’t of death per se. It was of decay. As she watched, Shalai’s clothing and equipment rotted away into scraps around him. As each piece of cloth and leather hit the ground it moldered away to whisps of ash and dust; the buckles from the belts he wore, and the even the darts corroded and pitted into heaps of metallic scraps on the ground. In moments, Shalai stood there dressed only in his strange glowing tattoos.</p><p></p><p>But it didn’t make sense to Arnara what was wrong. Why the screams of pain? But then she saw the truth as the naked man turned around, his staff discarded. In his hands was the violin he cared for, a gift from his mother, and the last thing of hers he had. And there in his hands, it slowly rotted away; the bridge buckling as the body collapsed into itself, and the strings snapping away into dust. As it crumbled away before him, the pain on his face was clearer than his accidental trip into acid he faced earlier. He fell to his knees in tears; defeated by not a foe, but by his cherished memory moldering away into nothingness in his very hands. Arnara’s heart ached, understanding this loss keenly; to losing something before your very eyes, unable to stop it.</p><p></p><p>Like when Myrai left.</p><p></p><p>Arnara told her to go. To do what must be done. To seek and experience. To stop the Kershok. It was all the right things to say to her friend all those years ago.</p><p></p><p>But she never gave her friend a hint on the pain it caused herself. How Arnara wanted anything <strong><em>but </em></strong>for her to leave. Someone that could stand beside her and help her through what was coming. How to face the challenges of rule, obligation and duty. All part of a destiny that frightened her. She wasn’t ready to face the new. Not alone. All she wanted was a friend she could be honest with. One not trapped in the traditions and forms of elven culture. A perspective she grew to trust and admire.</p><p></p><p>And now lost to her.</p><p></p><p>“This is…bad,” Rafelor said running his fingers through his hair. “How are we going to deal with this?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, it seems not to affect his staff, so I am guessing enchanted items are safe,” Aegis said, who set down his pack on the ground. “In the meantime—”</p><p></p><p>“You can’t be serious!” Hawthorne said aghast.</p><p></p><p>“Yeah Aegis. No one wants to see Hawthorne naked and afraid!” The snide voice came from ‘Yaka’ a talking skull that Hawthorne had touched, and now was following him. It claimed to be impervious to harm and also said that only after being fed with gemstones would it leave. And so far, it seemed to be true. But Yaka was anything but quiet, and it took a perverse joy verbally torturing Hawthorne, and ever prepared with a snide comment.</p><p></p><p>However, Hawthorne was getting excited and ignored the floating skull’s barb. He dropped his crossbow and started to undress. “Maybe this can get rid of that skull.”</p><p></p><p>Arnara swallowed, shaking her head slightly and saying nothing. She knew that between the Artificer and herself they were the best suited to solving many of the tomb’s traps and puzzles. But they had been searching diligently up the hall and nothing concealed was here. Which meant, like other rooms, that a solution was on the other side of the hall.</p><p></p><p>Arnara felt her cheeks grow warm, as she put down her own pack and unbuckled the belts holding her rapier and pouches. Taking off her boots, she fumed at Acererak at this shame. She had no idea if the others knew what kind of violation this was to any elf. The Tel’Quessir as a culture did not shun nudity; it was a natural glorious thing the natural shape and form of the body. Nudity was a part of nature and was in many ways a sacred thing to protect and cherish. But this view did not extend to sharing it with <em>N’Tel’Quessir</em>. It was shameful to be seen by outsiders in such a way. Humans especially were warned of, as they seemed to have an almost, unnatural fascination with elves and other fey. It was very true with Myrai’s companion, Iesa. He was chasing any elf he could, and many avoided him during his stay.</p><p></p><p>This was one of the reasons that finding a bed for Myrai was such a scandal; that Arnara was perhaps sharing something borderline sacred with her, even though she was <em>ha’celas</em>. But Arnara never revealed herself to her that way. Even when they went to the warm spring pools to bathe, Arnara ensured she was covered from casual view, even though Myrai wasn’t bothered by her own state of undress. It was the reason Arnara used her magic to keep herself clean. So, she would never need to undress in front of her friends. It wasn’t a trust problem; it was just simply the most improper thing an elf could do.</p><p></p><p>Arnara was near tears as she pulled off her boots and the knitted hose underneath down her legs. Aegis had already stripped down to the essentials, which was essentially nothing and now was kneeling naked next to Shalai trying to comfort him. Arnara unlaced her leather bracers, exposing her own Bladesong tattoo. A tattoo she had shown to only a few; namely her master and only recently Rafelor. Not her cousins. Not her father. It was a graceful weaving of ink around her forearms, colored in purple and greens. They wrapped around her arm like fine ivy on white marble. It was a complex pattern that matched her; the appearance of elegance and poise, but with knots of chaos and confusion when you looked closely.</p><p></p><p>Gritting her teeth, she unwrapped the front of her dress from her body, and slowly folded it. Everyone was looking down the stairs at Aegis and Shalai. Then Hawthorne bounded down the stairs, with only a pair of bracers to his name, and the floating skull Yaka following close behind. Hawthorne turned to look at the golden skull with a grin, and slowly it melted as the skull simply…didn’t.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, come on! I thought this would work!” Hawthorne exclaimed bitterly.</p><p></p><p>“Told you; nothing to see here. NOTHING!” the skull jibed as it circled around the demoralized Sigilite.</p><p></p><p>“I hate this cursed place,” Aegis said fuming as he patted Shalai on the shoulder and then started moving to the end of the hallway.</p><p></p><p>“Definitely not what I want to be my final resting place,” Rafelor agreed grimly.</p><p></p><p>“Well…we could be in a worse place,” Eliana said trying to sound cheerful.</p><p></p><p>“True, you could be stuck in Hawthorne’s head!” Yaka replied spinning around, teeth chattering, and dodging Hawthorne’s attempt to slap her.</p><p></p><p>Arnara laid the dress down and grasped her rapier by the pommel. She was shivering and after some halfhearted attempts, gave up trying to find ways to keep herself covered. The tears of embarrassment poured down over her warm cheeks. She was about to walk down the stairs to look for a solution, and put her shame on full display when Aegis called out from the far side of the hall</p><p></p><p>“Hey, I found an ivory ring here in a bull’s mouth. Give me a momen…ah crap it turned to dust. Wait! Throw something down the stairs!”</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” said Rafelor and he tossed an iron piton from one of the packs down the stairs. It tumbled end over end until it lay next to Shalai, but unlike his things, it did not pit or rust. It kept its shape and form.</p><p></p><p>“Yes!” shouted Aegis.</p><p></p><p>But if Rafelor noticed, he said nothing as his eyes were locked onto Arnara, who stood there her body and soul bared to any who had turned to notice. Her emotions here on full display, not as the future leader of a house, or the nominal leader of this band in this trap infested tomb. But as a person, vulnerable and cloaked in nothing but their tears and shame. Doing what was up until a moment ago, was a needed thing.</p><p></p><p>As Aegis’ cry of victory echoed in the hall, everyone else was breathing a sigh of relief. Arnara simply bowed her head and looked around apprehensively.</p><p></p><p>Rafelor said nothing and averted his eyes. He took a couple of steps forward towards her and turned around. He pulled a blanket from his pack and held it wide, shielding Arnara’s state from the others. Rafelor heard rustling of cloth, silk, leather and the sounds of cord being tied, and buckles fastened. Finally, Arnara whispered in Elvish into Rafelor’s ear. “<em>Sal o, Aral’Sha.”</em> Rafelor lowered the blanket, an Arnara walked around him, her tears dried as if nothing had occurred.</p><p></p><p>"I shouldn't be able to gag, but seeing you naked as reawakened new levels of disgust in me,” Yaka said aloud drifting around Hawthorne. Arnara jerked her head towards the skull and was about to speak when Hawthorne noticed Arnara’s reaction.</p><p></p><p>“You'd think someone call an elf ugly?” the ranger said.</p><p></p><p>“I know that…many have an unhealthy interest in elves,” Arnara said straightening out her top. “I but never really considered if was…considered attractive to others. Or not.” She said bowing her head down.</p><p></p><p>But Rafelor didn’t pay much attention to that, as he was still turning over in his head what Arnara said to him.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">‘Thank you, my true heart friend.’</p> <p style="text-align: center"></p> <p style="text-align: center"></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nthal, post: 8340187, member: 6971069"] [CENTER][B]Story X - Naked Fear - 7/14/2021[/B][/CENTER] The party stood at the top of the stairs looking down with trepidation. The puzzle the Lich had presented was nothing short of a gauntlet hidden behind the carved facades of wardrobe. Each one a taste of a faraway plane and each providing a surprise. But this wasn’t clear at first to Arnara, until a door summoned back a slain foe, Old Yarrick. In the distance of the plane beyond, was a crimson sky, with an iron cube, hanging like a baleful moon in the distance. On then did she piece together a story Myrai told her. A place where the spirits of Gruumush’s and Maglubyiet’s followers fought each other in eternal combat on the plane of Acheron. A plane of iron cubes colliding with each other, allowing enteral war to spread from place to place. Old Yarrack was tougher than before and he seemed to remember them in a haze of hate. But he was a minor distraction as was the Osyluth from Baator and the wisps from the Shadowfell. But it was the Mezzoloths from Gehenna that almost killed them. Arnara remembered Myrai saying that the ‘Loths’ were the epitome of selfish evil, and they were all fearsome opponents. She wasn’t wrong, as the poison fumes the fiends emitted, burned at Arnara’s lungs and skin. They were cagey, adapting to the sudden change of Rafelor into a Sword Titan, by simply dismissing the magic. The toxic clouds, the loss of light were all new problems they had to fight through. It made the sad appearance of a hapless monodrone from Mechanus seem like a cruel joke; on the monodrone. But somehow Arnara guessed the monodrone wouldn’t get it, as much as Arnara didn’t understand Acerarak’s strange joke of going to different worlds using furniture meant for clothing. But where the challenge and the fear were a straightforward response to a fight to the death. It was very understandable. The newest gauntlet was a different matter. Looking down the hall, there were signs of decay. Broken bits of armor, shields and weapons scattered across the floor, all in from of graven mural of corpses and death along the wall. Just looking down the hall gave Arnara the shivers, and the sense of a trap that was waiting to entertain their hidden opponent. [I]--Let someone else go first. No! Let them ALL go first. Least risk risk risk Quiet Obo’laka! Hard enough to thi--[/I] “I’ll go down first,” Shalai said. --[I]See see! Let the sacrificial lamb..no GOAT go. Let him find the trap! Obo’laka, I need you to--[/I] “Aaaauggh!” the human screamed, and Arnara shook her mind free from Obo’Laka’s ravings. Her sword drawn, she looked for the foe or the trap that Shalai faced. But as she looked around, she was puzzled; she saw nothing around Shalai; just him patting his clothing madly. Arnara was about to step forward to ascertain what was wrong when Aegis spoke. “His…clothes!” With horror she now understood the graven mural; it wasn’t of death per se. It was of decay. As she watched, Shalai’s clothing and equipment rotted away into scraps around him. As each piece of cloth and leather hit the ground it moldered away to whisps of ash and dust; the buckles from the belts he wore, and the even the darts corroded and pitted into heaps of metallic scraps on the ground. In moments, Shalai stood there dressed only in his strange glowing tattoos. But it didn’t make sense to Arnara what was wrong. Why the screams of pain? But then she saw the truth as the naked man turned around, his staff discarded. In his hands was the violin he cared for, a gift from his mother, and the last thing of hers he had. And there in his hands, it slowly rotted away; the bridge buckling as the body collapsed into itself, and the strings snapping away into dust. As it crumbled away before him, the pain on his face was clearer than his accidental trip into acid he faced earlier. He fell to his knees in tears; defeated by not a foe, but by his cherished memory moldering away into nothingness in his very hands. Arnara’s heart ached, understanding this loss keenly; to losing something before your very eyes, unable to stop it. Like when Myrai left. Arnara told her to go. To do what must be done. To seek and experience. To stop the Kershok. It was all the right things to say to her friend all those years ago. But she never gave her friend a hint on the pain it caused herself. How Arnara wanted anything [B][I]but [/I][/B]for her to leave. Someone that could stand beside her and help her through what was coming. How to face the challenges of rule, obligation and duty. All part of a destiny that frightened her. She wasn’t ready to face the new. Not alone. All she wanted was a friend she could be honest with. One not trapped in the traditions and forms of elven culture. A perspective she grew to trust and admire. And now lost to her. “This is…bad,” Rafelor said running his fingers through his hair. “How are we going to deal with this?” “Well, it seems not to affect his staff, so I am guessing enchanted items are safe,” Aegis said, who set down his pack on the ground. “In the meantime—” “You can’t be serious!” Hawthorne said aghast. “Yeah Aegis. No one wants to see Hawthorne naked and afraid!” The snide voice came from ‘Yaka’ a talking skull that Hawthorne had touched, and now was following him. It claimed to be impervious to harm and also said that only after being fed with gemstones would it leave. And so far, it seemed to be true. But Yaka was anything but quiet, and it took a perverse joy verbally torturing Hawthorne, and ever prepared with a snide comment. However, Hawthorne was getting excited and ignored the floating skull’s barb. He dropped his crossbow and started to undress. “Maybe this can get rid of that skull.” Arnara swallowed, shaking her head slightly and saying nothing. She knew that between the Artificer and herself they were the best suited to solving many of the tomb’s traps and puzzles. But they had been searching diligently up the hall and nothing concealed was here. Which meant, like other rooms, that a solution was on the other side of the hall. Arnara felt her cheeks grow warm, as she put down her own pack and unbuckled the belts holding her rapier and pouches. Taking off her boots, she fumed at Acererak at this shame. She had no idea if the others knew what kind of violation this was to any elf. The Tel’Quessir as a culture did not shun nudity; it was a natural glorious thing the natural shape and form of the body. Nudity was a part of nature and was in many ways a sacred thing to protect and cherish. But this view did not extend to sharing it with [I]N’Tel’Quessir[/I]. It was shameful to be seen by outsiders in such a way. Humans especially were warned of, as they seemed to have an almost, unnatural fascination with elves and other fey. It was very true with Myrai’s companion, Iesa. He was chasing any elf he could, and many avoided him during his stay. This was one of the reasons that finding a bed for Myrai was such a scandal; that Arnara was perhaps sharing something borderline sacred with her, even though she was [I]ha’celas[/I]. But Arnara never revealed herself to her that way. Even when they went to the warm spring pools to bathe, Arnara ensured she was covered from casual view, even though Myrai wasn’t bothered by her own state of undress. It was the reason Arnara used her magic to keep herself clean. So, she would never need to undress in front of her friends. It wasn’t a trust problem; it was just simply the most improper thing an elf could do. Arnara was near tears as she pulled off her boots and the knitted hose underneath down her legs. Aegis had already stripped down to the essentials, which was essentially nothing and now was kneeling naked next to Shalai trying to comfort him. Arnara unlaced her leather bracers, exposing her own Bladesong tattoo. A tattoo she had shown to only a few; namely her master and only recently Rafelor. Not her cousins. Not her father. It was a graceful weaving of ink around her forearms, colored in purple and greens. They wrapped around her arm like fine ivy on white marble. It was a complex pattern that matched her; the appearance of elegance and poise, but with knots of chaos and confusion when you looked closely. Gritting her teeth, she unwrapped the front of her dress from her body, and slowly folded it. Everyone was looking down the stairs at Aegis and Shalai. Then Hawthorne bounded down the stairs, with only a pair of bracers to his name, and the floating skull Yaka following close behind. Hawthorne turned to look at the golden skull with a grin, and slowly it melted as the skull simply…didn’t. “Oh, come on! I thought this would work!” Hawthorne exclaimed bitterly. “Told you; nothing to see here. NOTHING!” the skull jibed as it circled around the demoralized Sigilite. “I hate this cursed place,” Aegis said fuming as he patted Shalai on the shoulder and then started moving to the end of the hallway. “Definitely not what I want to be my final resting place,” Rafelor agreed grimly. “Well…we could be in a worse place,” Eliana said trying to sound cheerful. “True, you could be stuck in Hawthorne’s head!” Yaka replied spinning around, teeth chattering, and dodging Hawthorne’s attempt to slap her. Arnara laid the dress down and grasped her rapier by the pommel. She was shivering and after some halfhearted attempts, gave up trying to find ways to keep herself covered. The tears of embarrassment poured down over her warm cheeks. She was about to walk down the stairs to look for a solution, and put her shame on full display when Aegis called out from the far side of the hall “Hey, I found an ivory ring here in a bull’s mouth. Give me a momen…ah crap it turned to dust. Wait! Throw something down the stairs!” “Sure,” said Rafelor and he tossed an iron piton from one of the packs down the stairs. It tumbled end over end until it lay next to Shalai, but unlike his things, it did not pit or rust. It kept its shape and form. “Yes!” shouted Aegis. But if Rafelor noticed, he said nothing as his eyes were locked onto Arnara, who stood there her body and soul bared to any who had turned to notice. Her emotions here on full display, not as the future leader of a house, or the nominal leader of this band in this trap infested tomb. But as a person, vulnerable and cloaked in nothing but their tears and shame. Doing what was up until a moment ago, was a needed thing. As Aegis’ cry of victory echoed in the hall, everyone else was breathing a sigh of relief. Arnara simply bowed her head and looked around apprehensively. Rafelor said nothing and averted his eyes. He took a couple of steps forward towards her and turned around. He pulled a blanket from his pack and held it wide, shielding Arnara’s state from the others. Rafelor heard rustling of cloth, silk, leather and the sounds of cord being tied, and buckles fastened. Finally, Arnara whispered in Elvish into Rafelor’s ear. “[I]Sal o, Aral’Sha.”[/I] Rafelor lowered the blanket, an Arnara walked around him, her tears dried as if nothing had occurred. "I shouldn't be able to gag, but seeing you naked as reawakened new levels of disgust in me,” Yaka said aloud drifting around Hawthorne. Arnara jerked her head towards the skull and was about to speak when Hawthorne noticed Arnara’s reaction. “You'd think someone call an elf ugly?” the ranger said. “I know that…many have an unhealthy interest in elves,” Arnara said straightening out her top. “I but never really considered if was…considered attractive to others. Or not.” She said bowing her head down. But Rafelor didn’t pay much attention to that, as he was still turning over in his head what Arnara said to him. [CENTER]‘Thank you, my true heart friend.’ [/CENTER] [/QUOTE]
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