THE HEROES OF DYVERS CHAPTER 7: CLARE'S ERRAND
- Thread starter Tellerian Hawke
- Start date
Aust Thale
Adventurer
Respen:
“Wait!…”. He wrestles with his Haversack. “My backpack is supposed to bring what I want to bear! I am daft yet again!” He shoves his entire arm down deep into the extra dimensional space, in what could be…no…is definitely…rummaging. “I’ve got it! I’d forgotten I’d acquired it.” He produces a scroll case. “This might indeed do the trick without the fuss of hauling him out of him like a sack…er…(looking at the giant)…wagon of loot.” He pops open the scroll case and removes the scroll. “Stone to Flesh. A bit beyond my creation, but I can use the scroll. Don’t anybody else step on a ward or rune. Or my Shrink Item idea might be the only option left. Okay, big fella. Let’s see if this works….”
“Wait!…”. He wrestles with his Haversack. “My backpack is supposed to bring what I want to bear! I am daft yet again!” He shoves his entire arm down deep into the extra dimensional space, in what could be…no…is definitely…rummaging. “I’ve got it! I’d forgotten I’d acquired it.” He produces a scroll case. “This might indeed do the trick without the fuss of hauling him out of him like a sack…er…(looking at the giant)…wagon of loot.” He pops open the scroll case and removes the scroll. “Stone to Flesh. A bit beyond my creation, but I can use the scroll. Don’t anybody else step on a ward or rune. Or my Shrink Item idea might be the only option left. Okay, big fella. Let’s see if this works….”
Tellerian Hawke
Defender of Oerth
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Respen holds the scroll in front of him, looking it over with a quiet sense of confidence, as a wry grin spreads across his face. All of those years spent cloistered, studying obscure, arcane topics, was certainly paying off, especially in this instance.
Respen recites the scroll, speaking boldly, uttering the incantations in the ancient tongue of Dragonkind, the progenitors of the modern arcane arts, a look of satisfaction upon his countenance as magic sparks begin to swirl from the parchment, spiraling toward the statue, flickering with energy and power. A wave of blue energy envelops the statue, and the stone begins to soften and change color; in moments, the stone is gone, replaced by the greyish flesh tone of a very strange looking, muscular humanoid creature. The party holds its collective breath as it waits for him to react to being restored to consciousness and to his normal physicality. Will he be friend or foe? The last imprisoned being (Djyn) turned out to be a friend, but only because his mind could not be controlled. Would this being be hostile? There was only one way to find out...
Kamena: You have regained consciousness. Whatever spell it was that the rune affected you with has ended. You are no longer in the same environs as you were when you arrived here. You are looking at a large group of what appear to be mercenaries, or perhaps fortune-seekers. You have no idea as to their intentions. WHAT DO YOU DO?
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Diarmadhim
Explorer
At the mention of potential traps on the floor, the Bronzeblade brothers take to the air. When Tam reassures everyone, Travis starts to lower himself back to the ground, but a cautious hand and furtive look from Leonard stops his alighting. Dewydd chuckles quietly at the twins, but otherwise remains silent due to his training in magic being well behind those of Respen, Sylvar, and Vale. As Respen's magic takes effect, Dewydd prepares himself in case the rescued individual proves to be a threat. "What day and year was it when you found yourself trapped in stone?" Dewydd asks, not wanting to bombard the freshly saved individual with too many questions.
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
The stone barely changes as the spell takes hold, it darkens to obsidian, the clothing flows and skin moves with the powerful muscles underneath. But still remains stone.
And deep breath can be heard as dead stone turns back to living stone.
The big man finishes the turn he obviously started before being petrified, flowing fluidly from low turn to balanced, grounded stance before he winks out of existence.
Just seconds later, he appears back, a step to the side putting both hands together in front of him, holding palm over fist and bowing slightly.
"Apologies." deep voice, slow, vibrating growl, like tectonic plates grinding in the dark rolls from the figure looming over the wizard.
"I am not your enemy, nor I wish to become one. I was simply surprised."
Despite the odd tones, the voice is calm, the look going over the group, nodding to each.
He*is* taking in every weapon, every stance, every breath in the passage. The air moves around him differently now; he tastes it. Listens. The faint scrape of leather. The tremor of held tension. The heartbeat of the nearest man.
Respen cannot help but notice the tension in the arms, like coiled springs waiting for him to try and cast something else.
But the stoneman stands still. An ancient stillness settles around him, heavy and patient. His hands drop at his sides, open, relaxed, but the promise within them is unmistakable.
"The Ulli call me Stone-Walker Who Does Not Rule. Obsessed with rulership, them. The wild nomads The Stonr Shadow of the Hills."
Pause.
"In my language, I am Kamena Sjena, the equivalent in common Velkyn’zhar Kuldar, The Obsidian Stalker"
"I hope you are the group Collin sent with some changes rather than different group."
And deep breath can be heard as dead stone turns back to living stone.
The big man finishes the turn he obviously started before being petrified, flowing fluidly from low turn to balanced, grounded stance before he winks out of existence.
The figure steps to the side, tenses for a moment and then shakes its head as if berating itself. It pulls the back leg closer to the one it stepped to the side with.
Just seconds later, he appears back, a step to the side putting both hands together in front of him, holding palm over fist and bowing slightly.
"Apologies." deep voice, slow, vibrating growl, like tectonic plates grinding in the dark rolls from the figure looming over the wizard.
"I am not your enemy, nor I wish to become one. I was simply surprised."
Despite the odd tones, the voice is calm, the look going over the group, nodding to each.
He*is* taking in every weapon, every stance, every breath in the passage. The air moves around him differently now; he tastes it. Listens. The faint scrape of leather. The tremor of held tension. The heartbeat of the nearest man.
Respen cannot help but notice the tension in the arms, like coiled springs waiting for him to try and cast something else.
But the stoneman stands still. An ancient stillness settles around him, heavy and patient. His hands drop at his sides, open, relaxed, but the promise within them is unmistakable.
"The Ulli call me Stone-Walker Who Does Not Rule. Obsessed with rulership, them. The wild nomads The Stonr Shadow of the Hills."
Pause.
"In my language, I am Kamena Sjena, the equivalent in common Velkyn’zhar Kuldar, The Obsidian Stalker"
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"I hope you are the group Collin sent with some changes rather than different group."
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Tellerian Hawke
Defender of Oerth
The Axe speaks up, almost in a scream; it is clearly excited about this newcomer.
"My stars! A Stonechild! I haven't seen your kind in a Dragon's age. You say Collin sent you? Then it's likely that his mother, Abigail, is the ultimate source of your presence here. Welcome, oh great one, your help is greatly appreciated!"
The party has never seen the axe react this way to any being, ever. Gone are its snide remarks, and condescending attitude. The axe's tone is almost that of hero worship.
"My stars! A Stonechild! I haven't seen your kind in a Dragon's age. You say Collin sent you? Then it's likely that his mother, Abigail, is the ultimate source of your presence here. Welcome, oh great one, your help is greatly appreciated!"
The party has never seen the axe react this way to any being, ever. Gone are its snide remarks, and condescending attitude. The axe's tone is almost that of hero worship.
MacConnell
Creator of The Untamed Wilds
An average sized man wearing a kilt and simple, dark green tunic deliberately moves to get a better line of sight on the statue become man. The bottom hem of the tunic is decorated with manticore spikes, a seemingly odd thing. “Nice work," he says to Respen.
He runs his left hand through his wavy, reddish blond hair and nods to the man in acknowledgement of him. He is obviously a druid. “I am Lathir. Nice to make your acquaintance; although, the circumstances could be better.”
Despite the enclosed environment and closeness of the quarters, Lathir seems very calm and relaxed. He breathes slowly and deeply. His eyes are not furtive like many adventurers of differing backgrounds but he is very spatially wary. It seems that he may practice a similar mental devotion, but the origin would be different.
Waynan
Adventurer
Tam, always delighted when magic happens, grins at the stone man as he "comes to life".
He has to lean back to take in the whole height of him.
Compared to Kamena's rumbling voice, Tam's sounds like a squeaky mouse, but he says:
"Wow! Hello! My name is Tamartamline Quickfoot. Our little party's trap expert, treasure hunter, and gia---- oh dear. Um, yeah, I'm also, ah, well, I'm also a pretty darn handy archer."
Kamena, you say your name is? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."
He has to lean back to take in the whole height of him.
Compared to Kamena's rumbling voice, Tam's sounds like a squeaky mouse, but he says:
"Wow! Hello! My name is Tamartamline Quickfoot. Our little party's trap expert, treasure hunter, and gia---- oh dear. Um, yeah, I'm also, ah, well, I'm also a pretty darn handy archer."
Kamena, you say your name is? Well, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
The eyes that were slowly scanning the group snap to the voice position. Seeing nothing there, the focus increases, nostrils flare trying to find invisible halfling or gnome hiding behind the warriors waist.
Slight smile appears at the title.
"Thank you. I'm no great one...except maybe by stature among dwarves. I am a simple hermit. Lady Abigail is the great one."
Diarmadhim
Explorer
Dewydd's eyebrow raises. "You know Lady Abigail? When was the last time you spoke with her? What is the last day you remember?" He probes.
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