D&D 5E Witcher: Mother of Monsters

[Shayuri]

Talashia clamps down on the horror that howls in her at the sight of Margarita's predicament. The idea that could happen to someone like her, and by extension herself. The perversion of her own goal into something monstrous. Worse in some ways than even death.

"Was it Nan?" she asked Margarita.

 

[Quickleaf]

[SECTION]"Ah!" Odvara lets out a horrified yelp upon seeing the twisted misshapen thing that was once Margarita. Ashamed of giving away your location to anything listening, she clamps her hand over her mouth and watches with teary eyes.[/SECTION]

[section]Margarita, trying to drag herself to her deformed feet again, tugs at Fergus' kilt, vigorously shaking her head as if trying to lead him away from the hilltop. Her eyes go wide when Talashia speaks to her, as if she's remembering something which causes her to grow agitated. One eye twitching, she mutters, "Ahn, ahn, ugha ahn..." Reaching out piteously toward Talashia with a distended arm, Margarita gasps in frustration, unable to formulate coherent words. Even in her altered state it is easy to imagine the once-proud sorceress making a huffing expression.[/section]

 

[Quickleaf]

Tamaran nods in affirmation of the witchers words he was not going to argue with a man who did this for a living, beckoning to his wold Tamaran begins to circle round averting his eyes from what ever was infront of him.

OOC: If you want another stealth roll let me know

As Tamaran circles around the hillock, following the forest's edge, his wolf pads along beside him, head sinking low as it sniffs the forest floor. Even the spirit wolf seems to sense something unnatural; whether it is disturbed or thrilled by this prospect, however, is impossible to decipher.

Somewhere, as if on the wind, comes a sultry feminine voice, "Mab Blathanna (son of the flowers)." Is it his wolf speaking to him? Some other spirit of the Valley of Flowers? His imagination?

Then Tamaran sees it. A 9-foot tall lumbering brute with skin like stretched leather and pebbles; hints of its grotesque face shrouded in a dark hood; long hideous nails forming into claws on its long arms; tattered rags, corded burlap, and bound wood providing meager clothing. Slowly, it turns its hooded face in Tamaran's direction, sniffing the air, before rumbling quietly to itself and continuing along its path - a semicircular guard patrol around the hillock.

Tamaran is downwind from it now, but if he gets upwind of it or the winds change, the brute is likely to notice him.

 

[Azurewraith]

Tamaran quickly and silently heads to the others again doing his best to avoid looking at Margarita."Its big, almost as tall as two men possibly blind oh and its got claws. Whatever it is it's patrolling around the stones"

After reporting in Tamaran contemplates who was talking to him he slowly reachs out to the mind of his wolf almost urging a response.

 

[Fenris]

Fergus sighs. "Ok so it sounds like we have found Old Nan and she has a troll to guard her. The question is why is the troll patrolling?Unless Nan is using the stones to open a portal perhaps and needs to be protected. In any case, it was Old Nan we came to find. So there seems to be but one way forward. I am willing to approach the top alone. We are not here to fight, unless we have to. We are here to ask Nan a favor. No need to show strength without need. Thoughts?"

 

[Azurewraith]

"I didn't see Nan up there and I'm no witcher but it didn't seem like any troll I have ever heard off.Tamaran quickly blurts out not wanting to offended."But of course your the witcher! I'm not trying to tell you your wrong I just want to make sure your prepared and I will offer you cover even though I lack the silver to harm these beasts.

OOC: Sorry if that was a bit meta as I'm pretty sure its an ogrid and I would imagine there are stories about trolls and stuff so Tamaran would have some idea about trolls.

 

[Shayuri]

Talashia looks over at the elf and witcher, but stays focused on Margarita.

"Just nod or shake your head," she says, forcing calm. "Was it Nan? Is this something we can fix?"

 

[Queenie]

For a moment Elora was frozen in time, returned to a place she could never forget, as hard as she tried. The hideous form before her sickened her, not from the sight but from the memory brought forward.

She took a few deep, calming breaths to center herself before she began her necessary work. It was too important to try to hide her skills now.

She approached the Sorceress, pulling her pack off her back, digging through it.

"I'm going to try to help you Margarita. Just stay here and stay calm."

Elora retrieved and set up her herbalism kit, along with some tools and bits and bobs of this and that. She gave Talashia a worried look before beginning the ritual.

She concentrated and chanted, speaking the healing words of a Witch, along with using her knowledge of magic and medicines, and different components from her kit.

OOC: Elora is casting Lesser Restoration. I am not assuming this will work, however in conjunction with this she is using her Curative Forensics Ritual. CURATIVE FORENSICS At 1st level, when you use a spell to cure a creature or remove a condition from a creature, you also get a glimpse of whatever creature or effect caused the damage or condition, learning the general appearance of the creature, the damage type of the wound or condition, and how long ago the wound or condition was inflicted. Additionally, when you attempt to diagnose a disease or identify a magical curse, your corresponding check is advantaged. Also, we never discussed it fully, but Elora had this happen to her and her and Fergus reversed it. Is there a certain way(s) in Witcher this is done? Elora would know of at least one of them. For them, it might have been killing the hag who cursed her, but I don't know if there is Witcher cannon for this or not.

 

[Quickleaf]

[section]The misshapen parody of Margarita jabbers piteously to herself in plaintive inhuman tones, as if trying to sound out a word which might make sense. Growing frustrated, she hammers the forest floor with her fist. Whimpering, she nods to Talashia, almost like a servile dog, readily agreeing with Talashia's words...too readily, maybe, casting doubt on whether she truly understands Talashia or not. "Sherz, lotro, nugha ahn...sp...splz!" Though her cursing is nonsensical, it's clear that she is indeed cursing, eyes watering as the strain - emotional and physical - leaves her panting and drooling.

After a moment, she grasps for a small pouch at her belt, pulling at it in an animalistic fashion which only makes her body flop around as she leans against a tree trunk for support. Growing increasingly frustrated, Margarita finally manages to tear it off and the contents go scattering about the forest floor near Talashia's feet. Whimpering, the misshapen former sorceress sinks down, her will defeated for the time being.[/section]

Among the items that scattered, Talashia can readily make out:

• A light blue-grey potion that seems to swirl like mist.
• An empty glass vial.
• A crystal lens that might be part of a megascope.
• A small powder box, radiating wisps of evocation magic to Talashia's sight.
• At least 20 scattered gold coins.
• A mage's component pouch.

 

[Quickleaf]

As Elora concentrates on freeing the sorceress Margarita Laux-Antille from her affliction, there is a whispering darkness just faintly audible in the air around the misshapen sorceress, so fleeting it may have been imagined. The harder Elora tries to draw out the darkness, the more entrenched it becomes, as if a parasite rooting and coiling itself deeper around its host when threatened with being cut out. Then Elora's eyes roll back, flooded with images that follow a roughly chronological sequence, though it is distorted and there are gaps as if the timing of the events is in question....

A sorcerer with a twisted leering smile invokes a curse. He derives dark satisfaction, even fascination, from casting it upon her. Margarita, as a child, gasps in pain. Shame. Shame at how she looks. Suitors gawking at her. Hours in the mirror perfecting her make-up, working the words of the transmutation spell over and over till her lips crack and her eyes weep. Years of agony and humiliation. And finally release. She has mastered the spell, no longer held captive to the sorcerer's curse.

For a moment, everything is a thick grey mist, and then a chill of foreboding runs down the back of Elora's skull as a face looms out of the fog. A face discarding a face, sloughing off like melting wax. She is, without question, the most malicious hag Elora could ever imagine. Nearly as large as a troll, face an eerie shade of metallic blue, nails like black iron knives, teeth like needles, eyes that crackle with the fury of the storm. The hag is real. She is dispelling the transmutation spell, setting Margarita "free", and condemning her to relive the curse. And then the hag speaks, but the words make no sense spoken as they were in the past to Margarita: "A daughter for a daughter, 'tis only fair, Elora the Wisewife."

Then, the horrible vision abruptly ends.

GM: We can detail what happened with Elora and Fergus and reversing the hag's curse that turned Elora if you want [MENTION=8058]Queenie[/MENTION]. However, what's going on here is a little different than what befell Elora. There's no Witcher canon I know of regarding breaking curses; they're typically complicated things.

[SBLOCK=Elora]

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