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The after-action report from last night's 4E game
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<blockquote data-quote="mtheurer" data-source="post: 4333495" data-attributes="member: 57398"><p><strong>Tanzanite Copper Alehouse - Dwarf Cleric </strong></p><p></p><p>The dream is always the same, always exactly as she remembers that fateful night. </p><p></p><p>The chirping cave lizards suddenly singing out in alarm in the middle of sleep shift as her father buckles on his armor, grabs his pick, moving out towards the main shaft. A harrowing flight with her mother and sister as walls collapse and goblin faces fight in the darkness against warcrying dwarves. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>The flight past bodies lying still or moaning in the central shaft, the collapse of the escape ladders and the gleeful laughter of goblin sappers. The horrifying wrench as a scaly hand grabs her mother's hair. Her young sister thrust into her arms and a sobbing half command half prayer from her mother to RUN. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>The headlong flight, past the marker for safe tunnels into newly dug and unexplored regions. Sounds of footsteps, cries of fighting, all seeming to follow her into the darkness. Stopping to see if its more goblins coming up behind her, or maybe her mother has gotten free and trying to catch up. The intake of breath at the sight of cruel glowing eyes following her course into the tunnels. Another headlong flight. The fall down a short shaft. The crunch and pop of her collarbone and the sudden crying of her sister. More echoing footsteps and cruel laughter, sometimes ahead of her, sometimes behind, seeming to come from the very walls surrounding her. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p> The arrow, feathered with the scaly feathers of hook horror, suddenly knocking her to the ground like a giant's fist. A struggle to her feet, warmth spreading through night garments, pooling near her feet, making her slip. Another fall. A cave, and there! A marker in the darkness. It is a deep cave sign, an old one, one she does not know. Then all she knew was it was dwarf, and maybe something familiar. Later she would find out it was Waiting Darkness, one of the most grim and magical of danger signs.</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>She passes into the cave and finds standing stones surrounding her. She falls again and is afraid she will never get up. Below the stone seems to thrum, with power or with deep running water, or with the approach of goblin feet. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>The cruel eyes surround her. Her head swims and she is only vaguely aware of their approach, like she is outside herself and it is happening to someone else. Five of them, grinning with faces full of hatred and the promise of pain, nearing the standing stones, pulling out long curved daggers. Then she notices the blood, and that not all of it is hers. The barbed arrow passed through her shoulder, and has punctured her sister. The baby is still and quiet, her swaddling soaked through. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>In that moment, the fear leaves her. The horrible fleeing trek in the dark, the loss of her mother, the deep instinctive feeling that her father is already gone, and now the imminent loss of her infant sister, all are suddenly blown away in the white hot rush of rage that fills her mind. For an instant she feels as if the stones have bent inward towards her, and that fire is rushing up them and into her heart and mind, overflowing her, until in one agonizing and yet joyous moment she screams her hatred at the goblins and lets the fire loose. And then she wakes. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>Tanzanite never spoke of what happened after that, she never even told the priests who took her and her infant sister in and raised them. She didn’t need to tell the priests, the fact that the two weary and scared children in blood stained children were unharmed yet bore horrendous battle scars told them volumes. This child could channel divine power. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>Now as a grown woman, Tanzanite stands before the Priests of Bahamut with her head bowed listening to the prayers. Many years had past since she pounded on the great doors to the temple. Tanzanite was filled with pride and a bit of sadness. This part of her training was complete, it was time for her to leave the temple. At prayers end she lifted her gaze and caught the eye of the blond acolyte, her sister Amber Electrum, giving her a small smile as she noticed Ambers tear filled eyes. </p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>After the ceremony, Tanzanite and Amber spoke quietly. </p><p></p><p>“I want to go with you.” </p><p></p><p>“Amber, I know. We’ve discussed this before. You know you can’t go, your training isn’t complete.” Tanzanite said sternly. </p><p></p><p>Amber pouted “I know. I just don’t want you to go. We’ve never been apart for more than a fortnight. Now you are leaving forever.” </p><p></p><p>Tanzanite took her sisters hand, “Not forever, I promise. When your training is complete, I’ll be back, we’ll travel together. Bahamut as my witness. No more tears now.”</p><p></p><p>Amber smiled slightly. “No more tears.”</p><p></p><p>“All right then, it’s time for me to go.”</p><p></p><p> </p><p></p><p>The temple gates closed behind Tanzanite, she knew her real training was yet to begin.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="mtheurer, post: 4333495, member: 57398"] [B]Tanzanite Copper Alehouse - Dwarf Cleric [/B] The dream is always the same, always exactly as she remembers that fateful night. The chirping cave lizards suddenly singing out in alarm in the middle of sleep shift as her father buckles on his armor, grabs his pick, moving out towards the main shaft. A harrowing flight with her mother and sister as walls collapse and goblin faces fight in the darkness against warcrying dwarves. The flight past bodies lying still or moaning in the central shaft, the collapse of the escape ladders and the gleeful laughter of goblin sappers. The horrifying wrench as a scaly hand grabs her mother's hair. Her young sister thrust into her arms and a sobbing half command half prayer from her mother to RUN. The headlong flight, past the marker for safe tunnels into newly dug and unexplored regions. Sounds of footsteps, cries of fighting, all seeming to follow her into the darkness. Stopping to see if its more goblins coming up behind her, or maybe her mother has gotten free and trying to catch up. The intake of breath at the sight of cruel glowing eyes following her course into the tunnels. Another headlong flight. The fall down a short shaft. The crunch and pop of her collarbone and the sudden crying of her sister. More echoing footsteps and cruel laughter, sometimes ahead of her, sometimes behind, seeming to come from the very walls surrounding her. The arrow, feathered with the scaly feathers of hook horror, suddenly knocking her to the ground like a giant's fist. A struggle to her feet, warmth spreading through night garments, pooling near her feet, making her slip. Another fall. A cave, and there! A marker in the darkness. It is a deep cave sign, an old one, one she does not know. Then all she knew was it was dwarf, and maybe something familiar. Later she would find out it was Waiting Darkness, one of the most grim and magical of danger signs. She passes into the cave and finds standing stones surrounding her. She falls again and is afraid she will never get up. Below the stone seems to thrum, with power or with deep running water, or with the approach of goblin feet. The cruel eyes surround her. Her head swims and she is only vaguely aware of their approach, like she is outside herself and it is happening to someone else. Five of them, grinning with faces full of hatred and the promise of pain, nearing the standing stones, pulling out long curved daggers. Then she notices the blood, and that not all of it is hers. The barbed arrow passed through her shoulder, and has punctured her sister. The baby is still and quiet, her swaddling soaked through. In that moment, the fear leaves her. The horrible fleeing trek in the dark, the loss of her mother, the deep instinctive feeling that her father is already gone, and now the imminent loss of her infant sister, all are suddenly blown away in the white hot rush of rage that fills her mind. For an instant she feels as if the stones have bent inward towards her, and that fire is rushing up them and into her heart and mind, overflowing her, until in one agonizing and yet joyous moment she screams her hatred at the goblins and lets the fire loose. And then she wakes. Tanzanite never spoke of what happened after that, she never even told the priests who took her and her infant sister in and raised them. She didn’t need to tell the priests, the fact that the two weary and scared children in blood stained children were unharmed yet bore horrendous battle scars told them volumes. This child could channel divine power. Now as a grown woman, Tanzanite stands before the Priests of Bahamut with her head bowed listening to the prayers. Many years had past since she pounded on the great doors to the temple. Tanzanite was filled with pride and a bit of sadness. This part of her training was complete, it was time for her to leave the temple. At prayers end she lifted her gaze and caught the eye of the blond acolyte, her sister Amber Electrum, giving her a small smile as she noticed Ambers tear filled eyes. After the ceremony, Tanzanite and Amber spoke quietly. “I want to go with you.” “Amber, I know. We’ve discussed this before. You know you can’t go, your training isn’t complete.” Tanzanite said sternly. Amber pouted “I know. I just don’t want you to go. We’ve never been apart for more than a fortnight. Now you are leaving forever.” Tanzanite took her sisters hand, “Not forever, I promise. When your training is complete, I’ll be back, we’ll travel together. Bahamut as my witness. No more tears now.” Amber smiled slightly. “No more tears.” “All right then, it’s time for me to go.” The temple gates closed behind Tanzanite, she knew her real training was yet to begin. [/QUOTE]
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