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D&D 5E The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter Five


The Carven Door

Sela smiles to the tiefling before turning to acknowledge the rest of the gathering with a nod, until her eyes fall on Magaw. There is a moment of hesitation as the fey-touched girl considers the floating head’s presence here. “Interesting choice,” she quietly mentions, “but everything happens for a reason, doesn’t it, old enemy of this darkly diverse world.”

The skull returns the woman’s gaze, teeth grinding.

“Oh little fey-slave, the battlefield you left behind, for it's dead to pick through the remains and fight among themselves. Care, proportional to gain, perhaps. Tell me, when did you last wash your hair?” he snaps at Sela mockingly.

With a deep sigh the pitchling lets the undead’s words hang in the air, before eventually responding. “You, Magaw, undead general, may have just done your first good deed in a very, very long time, baldie.”

“Well then, consider me a changed man, in form and in nature little one! This merry troupe of travelers has done good by me, so I chose to do good in return. Not for you or your hag, but for a fresh breeze that visits our hovel, with some purpose greater than our ancient quarrelling.”

There is a history here, but for the dwarf it is all just too confusing and out of context.

“What the Hollob’s balls is going on!”
His voice is gruff and impatient. Two stray eyes still linger on the enormous gem from time to time too. “That stone, I swear it makes my snake stiffen…”

Carefully, and ignoring the dwarf’s pension for vulgarity, Sela positions herself before the symbol of a being trapped beneath the earth, reaching up to dab it lightly with an index finger.

“Fear not. This protection was placed here to ensure that the entrance only be accessible through a union, a cooperation of once enemies, seeking Immel’s words. No fiend alone, nor hairless and spine-deprived walking stench of death may do this in solitude. It forms a… spirit of cooperation. A prerequisite for company with the cliff’s true keeper.”

As before, blue light drifts upon the pale and dark haired woman also, and the final edge to the carven door turns from stone to light-admitting gap. She pushes then, the door fading away into nothingness at her touch, revealing a set of white, pock-filled and almost bone-consistency steps that lead down. It is an incredible sight. They are formed of coral. Without beaches or easy access to the sea, such marine life specimens are seldom seen first-hand.

“I will lead you down, if you wish,” she says, catching Dain’s eye and noting his sword at the ready. She smiles then, as you taste the first hint of fresh air for many hours, and natural light spills down upon the steps from a hole ahead in the ceiling. The sky above is still stained with red and yellow hues, and the air still thick with The Sands blown heat.

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First Post
The quarrel between the two- that is interesting indeed! Magaw must certainly be ancient. Sela as well. But undead and fey, they did tend to... stick around. It was enough if both sides, for now, would put aside old grudges. "He has been very helpful," she'd reassure Sela.

Metea turns back towards the others. "We must," she half begs them. "We cannot go back, and Dain said it himself- the other path leads out to the sea. This has to be what I- what we're looking for."

She flicks her book out to her hands once more, ready to trace the symbols she sees along the way! She must go, she must see... she must seek!

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First Post
Otiroth licked his lips. Tasted the air on the other side as if he were tasting a meal.

"The Sands?" He asked, for even seeing this... he couldn't say he was certain. He'd never been there himself, having to subsist on second-hand descriptions... that were likely actually third-hand. Was the doorway indeed a dimensional doorway, a teleporting site, more than simply a protective door?

The whole thing is... incredible. Unreal. He doubts his very eyes.

A glance back to Annit, and then Otiroth would join Metea in moving forward. Perhaps they had been sent here for greater means than seeking treasure after all.


First Post
Jeovanna grimaced. So much squabbling. So much talking! They all did really like to go on. No wonder Metea an Otiroth seemed so at home with this strange development.

Though really, what had any of them expected to be beyond the door? Either death, or some great treasure that would help them fulfill their goal down here. Both options were still on the table, and that was... perhaps unavoidable.

But then, there was the tickle, the promise, of fresh air. The feral part of Jeovanna thrilled at this, pulled at the part of her that should know better like a horse eager on the lead.

Into the terror of the unknown, then!

And if this Immel sought to harm them- they let her taste terror!


First Post
Dain/Carthum - The Carven Door

Dain did not like the pitchling's little grin. He did not know for sure whether her intent was for ill or good, but either way he did not like her nonchalance. The mages were eating it up, but he was not. "What do you search for, Metea?" Dain spoke under his breath.

I will not be enticed to my death, like some moth that is drawn to a deadly fire.

And so he would be ready. If things went sour.

His eyes were as much on the pitchling as they were the newly opened door and what appeared to be there. He gestured with his head for her to go first, giving her a grin of his own, though there was no mirth at all in it. His sword was not obviously prodding her on, but it might as well have been.


Carthum did not leave his position near Metea. Come what may, they were doing this together. Whether she liked it or not! He watched her flick through her book. She was excited...but he worried about some mischief afoot.

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