Difference between revisions of "Unti Family/Nerta/A1S4"

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{| class="infobox" style="margin: auto;" border="2" cellpadding="4"
 
|-
 
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| [[File:OdeonArena.jpg|600px]]
+
| [[File:ValenticCatacomb.jpg|600px]]
 
|-
 
|-
 
|}
 
|}
 
 
<center>{{Message2
 
|Width=80%
 
|Type=Report
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
 
|Recipients=Everyone in the Past
 
|Content='''Flashback'''
 
 
Branches claw and drag at rough wool, tearing fabric and leaving gashes. A dark cackle seems to stalk from the shadows driving me forward, away from the old woman and her ink. My head no longer spun, my stomach settled but something much worse was following me. Rounding on the snarling shape amidst a break in the trees I brace, hands fumbling for a club, a rock, anything.
 
 
But it is not enough.
 
 
Weight slams me against a trunk, my stomach lurching as I lash at the beast. One fist connects with soft tissue, spongy, wet, even as another scrapes along chitin plates. Panic dances and my vision swims as some hideous searing gel oozes along my arm.
 
 
My hiss accompanies a shoulder roll that sees the beast slammed through the thin scrub even as the familiar pain of a Graft blossoms across my jaw. The beast becomes aware that something is wrong, but even as it tries to pull away I strike, biting into the unprotected eye stalk.
 
 
A burbling wail pierces the air as ichor drips from my grotesque expression. Staggering away from the writhing thing I inhale sharply and shudder as the Graft fades.
 
 
I needed a real weapon, shelter.. time. The old woman had stolen everything.
 
 
Pushing through the small corps of trees I tumble in the gloom to trip on a root and catch myself before I sprawl into a… a camp?
 
 
The stranger wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve as his wineskin slips to the stump seat. The curling stench of stale drink rolls toward me along with the swaying silhouette, even as my breath steams with still cooling ichor.
 
 
My hand twitches, fingers clenching as the figure stops only a short distance away leaving me nowhere to hide. So we stand in cold silence until he slurs, “Whersh your clothesh?”
 
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
}}</center>
 
  
  
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|Type=Roleplay
 
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Sender=Jacinda the Driven
 
|Sender=Jacinda the Driven
|Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor]]
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content=For her part Nerta seemed lost in thought during the exchange, only occasionally glancing up as Wren smoothed the ruffled feathers. Eventually the matter is settled leaving Nerta to sigh and cast her gaze around for Vedens. It came as no surprise that he was nowhere to be found.
+
|Content=''After searching the area for 3 hours, following trails and noises, you finally encounter an organized horde of highly disciplined and warlike undead.''
  
“Yes, let’s… get out of here,” nodding to Kevan the woman moved back toward the door and out onto the streets. It was so much warmer now than when she’d first arrived…
+
''They are led by an undead champion, an evil creature with more power and intelligence than the usual lot.''
  
Leading the motley crew down the winding streets the great towering edifice of the Odeon Cruor begins to loom above them. Built of Qual stone during the height of the Republic and shaped by the finest artisans, even now the towering statues peer down at the thronging crowds of the merchant square.  
+
''Because you are close to home and familiar with the lay of the land, you are able to use the terrain to your advantage.''
  
The Old Man had been amused to see the arena still standing back when they’d first made it to the city. Apparently the Plebeian District had been cleared away to construct the massive structure all to give the newly minted adventurers a place to meet. Of course that meant homes and shops which had stood for generations had been demolished, all so the Patricians could enjoy a spot of leisure and blood sport. Even today, with the might of the Republic long since faded, the arena floor was rarely dry.
+
''The battle rages, you against the undead. Your blows land true, shattering them to dust left and right.''
  
As the group pushed through the crowd Jacinda was pacing back and forth before the great arena pausing only to buy a flatbread wrap from a street vendor. She knew this was where she was supposed to be, or close to it, but she still didn't know why, and her aching feet told her this whole thing was a fool's errand.
+
''The champion makes you sweat; he is quite the opponent. But in the end, he is just a pile of bones, too.''
  
"Blasted misbegotten feelings are no reason to run across a continent..."
+
''Among what is left of the champion, you find treasures worth a total of 4 gold, 8 silver.''
  
The woman muttered between bites of the warm food looking fierce in her heavy armour. So like a guard captain, with blades, mail, rope and more hanging from her heavy pack or travel cloak.
+
It was interesting, working with a group.  She had never done that before, outside of some early failed attempts in the far north. Someone else had done most of the legwork, finding the signs of an infestation in an abandoned warehouse in the docks, tracking them down into a cove underneath the piers, and returning the scouts and sentries to the dust they belonged to.
 +
Her first attempt on the cove had gone...Middling.  She had destroyed a warband that was moving out to gather (and create) more corpses, but the noise had attracted too much attention and she had barely managed to escape from the whole horde that charged out.
  
"But I can feel ​​​​​​​this is the right place...!"
+
But yet again, someone had whittled down the horde. So Jacinda studied the area, closely, and found another entrance besides the well-guarded opening under the pier. And carefully making her way through a small tunnel where a pack of zombie dogs had retreated after a kill, she came upon them unawares.
  
Then she turned at one edge of the street, spun around, and saw themAn odd assortment, surely at least some of them on the same path as she, and that feeling that guided her here tightened. Opening her mouth she raised an arm to hail them.
+
These ones were smart, and they reacted quickly, forming up around their championBut that made hindered the champion while she picked off its guard, and eventually it was just her...
 +
And it.
  
Wren’s sharp gaze spied the quick movement, leaving her to straighten abruptly and point out the heavily armed woman to the hunched figure in front of the small group.  
+
It looked almost elegant.  Its bones were picked thoroughly clean, and shone in the lamplight.  There was a silken cape covering part of its form, a knife covered with dried blood in its hand, and a large gemstone set in its forehead.  As they circled each other, making occasional feints, she watched how it moved, seeing that it was not quite how a human with that form would be able to move the joints.  So when she brought her mace in and shattered a few ribs, she was not completely surprised when the rest of the ribs lashed out at her. She managed to dance out of the way in time, and while there were some dicey moments, she methodically crushed bones until it could not evade well enough, and a final crack destroyed the gem, removing the animation from the dry bones.
  
As they all began to pivot the new voice called, "I...Are you..."
+
She paused a moment, gathering her breath, before gathering the knife, the cape, and everything else of value that she could find, before using a small keg of lantern oil she found to cover everything and light it on fire as she made her way out.  The glowing fire behind her threw shadows across her face, and the red light danced in the tide, as a satisfied smile made its way across her face.
  
Jacinda chews on her lip. How did you tell someone that you had a feeling you needed to meet them?
+
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."
  
"I...I need to be...Here, I think, but I don't know why, and can you...Do any of you...?"
+
She looked down at the knife, the blood black in the night.
  
The new woman’s hand tightened around her sword hilt, "Why am I here?​​​​​​​"
+
"Athame crack from ruin and rust."
 +
 
 +
She strode away as smoke filled the air, remembering another smoke-filled night she had been unable to prevent.
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
  
 
 
<center>{{Message2
 
|Width=80%
 
|Type=Report
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
 
|Recipients=Everyone in the Past
 
|Content='''Flashback'''
 
After that he gave me a cloak.
 
 
It smells.
 
 
But it’s better than half torn sackcloth.
 
 
He also… didn’t panic, stare, or try to ward me away. He just swayed over to his bag, pulled out the cloak and tossed it before nearly collapsing on his stump. His indifferent kindness was almost endearing after so many weeks away from home.
 
 
The chilly specter shares a few choice words, but I ignore the Old Man and move over to join the drunk even as I use the edge of the cloak to clean my chin.
 
 
We sit in silence for a time, save the crackling of the fire, but eventually I mutter, “Thanks. I'm Nerta.”
 
 
“Vhedensh,” he nods and smiles over the next pull at the wine before pointing toward me and twisting up his face, “F-F-F-Foederati, right?”
 
 
For some reason the old word doesn’t make me wince.
 
 
“Ya,” I glance away in the dark, “From the mountains.”
 
 
“Knew it! Ha. Thsss cool. ‘m from Agyr,” one pause later he adds, “You should gets clothesh ‘nd stuff. Dangerous out here.”
 
 
My lips pursed I snort, “Had stuff, was robbed.”
 
 
“Wash he cute at leasht?” taking a pull at the wine he seems to catch my puzzled look, “No? ssss not fair. It’sh only fun when they shteal your clothesh and they’re cute.”
 
 
“It was a robbery, not some…” I snort and wave a hand, “game.” Hmm though the crone certainly had something in mind, the ink marks...
 
 
“Pssssssh you need better friendsh.”
 
 
“I don’t have friends,” the words bite. He didn’t deserve that… but he hardly seems to notice.
 
 
“Okay fine! You twisted my arm. Heh, arms. I’ll be your friend,’ he points, “But the wine ish mine. Friendsh don’t shteal friendsh wine.”
 
 
My brows arched, I can’t help a short bark of a laugh, “You… you’re a drunken fool.”
 
 
In response he just spreads his hands, and gives me a lopsided stare of incredulity while I rub my temple and wonder when was the last time I’d laughed...
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
}}</center>
 
  
  
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|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
 
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Type=Roleplay
|Sender=Jacinda the Driven
+
|Sender=Jetta the Augur
|Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor]]
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content=Wren blink-blinked at the woman, who seemed nervous despite being equipped and armored to handle anything. Curiosity drew her to question in that peculiar soprano, “What told you come? Always travel has a reason.She took two small bouncing steps away from the group and cocked her head to one side. “You come from far away, yes?”
+
|Content=Jetta closes her eyes, then sees strange books and what looks like what could be an ancient library. She sees what could be another adventurer with her. But suddenly a monster attacks and breaks Jetta's focus.
 
+
"This is not good at all..... though I can not rely solely on that vision. The future is in constant Flux. So that may not be what will happen."
Jacinda blinked.  Had she just…
+
She stands up after being knocked from her vision. She proceeds to an inn to relax for a bit..... but then someone suddenly knock on her door..........
 
 
Chirped?
 
 
 
“Aye, quite a ways, the south-western coast.  I just felt I had to. Normally I just chase the next full bounty pot, but this…”
 
 
 
Jacinda shook her head.
 
 
 
“I don’t know what this was.  I’m from the north, though.  On the Bay of Calm, of all the blasted ironic names.”
 
 
 
As Wren chirps Nerta lets out a long shuddering breath at the stranger’s question. Everything about her, the tone, the posture, the haunted look, it was all too familiar. Nerta didn’t know this woman, armed and armoured to the nines, but it didn’t matter. She was a plaything of the Gods.  
 
 
 
Just like her.  
 
 
 
Gritting her teeth Nerta can just feel everything swirl around her, a storm of lost emotions that threatened to spill out. But she, she wasn’t going to, Abyss, cry.
 
 
 
“I don’t know why, but I do know who. The Gods sent you…”
 
 
 
Jacinda froze.
 
 
 
“You...You know…”
 
 
 
She leaned against a nearby tying post, before wincing and withdrawing as she ended up with a splinter in her hand.
 
 
 
“Which gods?”
 
 
 
Nerta’s chest felt hollow, her heart thunder. This woman, she didn’t even know… How cruel are the Gods to ruin lives even in ignorance…
 
 
 
Taking a few calming breaths Nerta swallows, “The only ones that matter. They are the Old Gods of Beluaterra. The masters of the land and everything upon it.” Pausing Nerta sighs and nods, “Not everyone can hear them all the time, and they rarely bother to speak with humans but…” Nerta adopts a rictus of a grin, “I guess you’re just lucky.
 
 
 
Jacinda laughed, hollowly.
 
 
 
“Lucky. That is one thing that has been missing in my life. My village was turned into a necromancer’s playground, everyone I’d ever known killed, and no matter how much I learn, how much I fight, I still can’t deal with the champions that guard them. And you say this is…”
 
 
 
She breathed, deeply, tugging in agitation on her black braid, before focusing again.
 
 
 
“Can they help me kill necromancers?  Because if so, then where do I sign up?”
 
 
 
“Help you?” Nerta suddenly barks with a laugh, a sound none of her companions had heard in all their travels. It was bitter and full of vitriol, “The Gods do not help you. Why, most of them want us dead and gone for we are seen as weak!”
 
 
 
Gesturing to the empty air at the chill specter that none could see, Nerta pressed, “The Old Man tried for years to earn the love of the Gods and what has it given him? He is but a haunting specter shackled to me and his people languish alone!”
 
 
 
Furry continues to bubble and storm, Nerta’s eyes shimmering as though lightning arched as she continues to straighten and hiss, “A weak man learned the secrets of the Abyss and used them for twisted ends, and the Gods just shook their head in disgust because you couldn’t save everyone. For the Gods will only help those who can help themselves!”
 
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
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<center>{{Message2
 
<center>{{Message2
 
|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
|Type=Report
+
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
|Recipients=Everyone in the Past
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content='''Flashback'''
+
|Content=Well this group needs some proper killing.
And so I left.
 
 
 
Slipping into the cold dawn while the drunk still dozed, the edges of his cloak snap in the fierce wind while the start of a new spear rests across my shoulder. He had been generous enough but I couldn’t even guess what he’d do after sobering up.
 
 
 
The sun continues to climb as I crunch out of the woods to find the edge of a field sweeping up to a walled village. Perched atop a hill this place was no doubt ringed by ordered farms allowing the plebeians to flee back to the safety of the palisade should the creatures of the wild attack.
 
 
 
Exhaling slowly, my breath steams as I shiver in the scant fragments of gear. No doubt there will be work a plenty, but can I survive?
 
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
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|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
 
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Type=Roleplay
|Sender=Jacinda the Driven
+
|Sender=Jetta the Augur
|Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor]]
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content=Jacinda stared, momentarily defeated.  She had no idea who this “old man” was, but the rest seemed clear.  No help, no aid, nothing that would avenge her people or prevent it from happening again.  Her eyes closed as she slumped.
+
|Content=Nerta,
  
“Then this was a fool’s errand. Just like the dream of that six eyed wolf, damn and blast it…”
+
Something seems to be shrouding my visions. They are not nearly as clear as they use to be. I think a mystic force might be interfering with my abilities.
  
There was too much weariness in her voice for much vehemence.
+
I am going to investigate this further.
 +
|Title= Adventurer
 +
}}</center>
  
“My apologies, then, I will take my leave.”
 
  
She turned, stretching a little, and moved to go.
 
  
Nerta mirrored the other woman's slump, her breath heavy, "Then I wish you the best of luck. If you're getting visions from the Wolf Lord you're worse off than I, and they… won't leave me alone."
+
<center>{{Message2
 
+
|Width=80%
Nerta's voice grows softer with each word, her eyes closing by the end as she pinches the bridge of her nose and fights back weary tears.
+
|Type=Roleplay
 
+
|Sender=Jack the Wanderer
Jacinda’s head whipped around.
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
 
+
|Content=Another championThere has to be some evil force at work hereSome necromancer or evil priest raising the dead? Using dark magics to make them smarter and strongerMy gran told me stories like this.
“Wolf Lord? Is that...One of these gods? Was that from them too?”
 
 
 
Her face, golden under the weatherbeaten tan, went pale.
 
 
 
“How long have I been walking down this road?
 
Nerta can’t respond right away, even as the poor woman feels the creeping dread close around her heart. Why Gods… why must you do this? Is it all just to see if we can survive?
 
 
 
“Y-Yes. Yes,” swallowing hard Nerta clears her throat and eventually looks up, “Yes the Wolf Lord is one name for one of the Gods. It’s a common name in the north, Wren might know what they call him in the south…” Vaguely waving at the one in the dappled cloak Nerta sighs, “I’ve no idea how Abyss long you’ve been cursed, but I’m sorry either way.”
 
 
 
You didn’t survive long in the wilds without being able to feel tension.  And Jacinda could cut the tension here with her blade.
 
 
 
“And...What is this Wolf Lord known forThe dream was...A challenge, it felt like.  And after my village…”
 
 
 
She looked at both of them, eyes darting back and forth, searching their faces while her own was strained.
 
 
 
“What is this curse you keep referring to?”
 
 
 
Nerta glances around the square, seemingly disinterested in answering. Yet as she spies a shop across from the small group she grabs Jacinda to drag her along.
 
 
 
The place sells an assortment of knick knacks around the games. How such a shop can exist is a mystery in itself but they had a glass display window, which meant standing amidst the banners and horns for the arena crowd is the trimmed and ethereal presence of the Old Man.
 
  
“Hello my dear. Do not be alarmed by my appearance,” comes the echoing apparition shimmering in the window, and please forgive my companion as she is somewhat, high strung, these days. You would like to know some things about the Gods? I can certainly help with that.
+
''After searching the area for 1 hours, following trails and noises, you finally encounter an organized horde of highly disciplined and warlike undead.''
 
+
''They are led by an undead champion, an evil creature with more power and intelligence than the usual lot.''
Jacinda recoiled from the glass, hand dropping to the hilt of her blade.
+
''You fight with zeal and strength - but the undead are unimpressed. They feel neither pain nor fear, but you do. Lots of it.''
 +
''Then you give up trying to defeat them and you only try to get away - but you find yourself surrounded! You fight on, desperately trying, and they beat on you without end. After what seems like eternity, you manage to break through their ranks. Exhausted and bleeding from many small cuts, you escape. A little rest and you will be ready again.''
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
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<center>{{Message2
 
<center>{{Message2
 
|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
|Type=Report
+
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
|Recipients=Everyone in the Past
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content='''Flashback'''
+
|Content=The Old Man says it's the Valentic Catacombs. The faith created warens to house the dead and meet in secret. All in preparation for the final battle against the "betrayers". Since the bindings are failing that end might be close at hand.
The village elder met me in the small inn with offers of  good coin for simple work: Save some sheep stolen by a beast and bring back a little boy that had wandered too far from home. They knew as well as I that he was no doubt dead, but they wished to burn him least he return with the rising of the full moon.
 
  
So here I am trugging back through the woods my feet crunching in snow armed with only a staff and all on the promise of a few silvers.
+
Or maybe the Crystal Maiden is just trying to stop us.
 
 
The father with sunken eyes had given me some pants; they’d been his wife’s. A woman lost some years ago to some nameless horror that had slipped over the walls and stole her away. Even the Old Man had been brooding quietly then, questioning what had happened to the Legions.
 
 
 
We’d not known then, but the Legion had been gone for a long time. No one was protecting these people.
 
 
 
Save me.
 
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
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|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
 
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Type=Roleplay
|Sender=Jacinda the Driven
+
|Sender=Jetta the Augur
|Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor]]
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content=“Who...What are you?  And…” Jacinda’s curiosity got the better of her, “What is this ‘Wolf Lord’ and curse business?
+
|Content="Well this is odd my visions are back, but I just had another vision...... it was of a women getting off a boat in the capital of Ar Agyr? I do not seem to recogni- wait a minute I do know her! Its my.... sister?!"
 +
|Title= Adventurer
 +
}}</center>
  
The man in the window pursed his lips, the neatly trimmed beard contrasting, “Ah. I rather thought you were a bit more seasoned than the rest of these companions... I’m a ghost my dear, an Ancestor made manifest and all that. Really you should at least try to listen to the old folktales, they have some wisdom to them…”
 
  
“Seeing as someone must continue your education, the Wolf Lord is the god of nature, broadly speaking. He’s a vicious fellow though because well…” the ghost chuckles, “As you’ve probably noticed nature is vicious. But you say he gave you a challenge? Sounds like him. He likes to test people, see if they’re worthy of his gifts. Harsh but fair sort of chap,” the specter pauses, “usually.”
+
<center>{{Message2
 
+
|Width=80%
“As for the curse business,” Walking along in the pane the ghost takes a moment to consider Nerta with those luminescent violet eyes before shrugging, “The girl is rather keen to part with my company, the Gods have other plans but she does like to wriggle.
+
|Type=Roleplay
 +
|Sender=Jetta the Augur
 +
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
 +
|Content=Jetta becomes deadly wide eyed feeling the heavy presence of magic that she has never felt before.
  
Jacinda traced a finger along the glass in wonder, should it feel different? “Ancestor spirits came to my people in unusual sea creatures, visions like this are beyond my ken.  This Wolf Lord, though, seems like something I can understand.  If he is the God of nature, he can’t support the undead, can he?”
+
"What is this?! This is definitely not normal magic!!!"
  
Jacinda leaned forward to inspect the ghost as she spoke. Truly the Old Man had retained his commanding presence, sharp eye and melodic voice, yet death had robbed him of much. Grave dust clung to his once fine clothes leaving him indistinct and his dark beard was streaked with grey while wrinkles lined his ghostly corpus.  
+
She saw ravens flying in the sky.
  
If the inspection bothered the shade he gave no sign, “Be mindful of things from the deep my dear. The Abyss spawns many of the undead creatures you despise so… But yes, the Wolf Lord would be an ally to any who would strike down the dead things.”
+
"By the Gods!! It's death magic!!!!"
  
Jacinda starts, her expression pensive, “And what plans are these?  What do these Gods want?”
+
Jetta suddenly goes nuts and screams frantically with images of the possible future. Everyone suddenly looking at her as if she is having some kind of attack.
  
The question saw the specter of the old Consul pause, his expression enigmatic, “No one knows the will of the Gods my dear but… I would say they want it done. They are tired of humanity’s slow, agonizing failure. They want us done and gone or triumphant and champions of all.”
+
"AHHHHHH MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!! SO MANY IMAGES AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
 +
  
  
 
<center>{{Message2
 
<center>{{Message2
 
|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
|Type=Report
+
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
|Recipients=Everyone in the Past
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content='''Flashback'''
+
|Content=Screams.
Blood on my hands.
 
 
 
I’d found the sheep soon enough. Torn to pieces. But what I hadn’t known was that they’d been bait.
 
 
 
Bait for me.
 
 
 
The Hunter nearly struck me down on the first blow, great claws slicing through the air as it pounced from the trees. Only the Old Man’s warning and a lucky roll saw the cloak torn and not me. Squaring off, staff in hand, the beast hissed and gibbered, moving like smoke across the deep snow drift even as I plunged within on each step.  
 
  
Grip tightening I curse quietly as the beast circles in. A Hunter was bad news, very bad: A Child of the Gods who could think and plan. Maybe the ambush yesterday had been one of the thing’s hounds…
+
At the sound of Jetta’s screams Nerta races down the gloomy hall, her torch roaring in her ears as she skids back into the central chamber they’d split from. Amidst the bones and niches dedicated to Valentic martyrs and believers languishes one living soul. Jetta’s arms and legs thrashing, racked by pain the usually dour woman wastes no time in coming to her companion’s aid.
  
The broad feet crunch as the beast leaps again, talons extended and maw distending like a lamprey. Letting out a sharp breath I lunge, trying to keep the staff aimed at the thing's chest, but only sink into the drift with a curse.  
+
Strong hands grip at Jetta’s limbs, guiding the woman to rest against the side wall even as she hisses, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Focus on my voice. Focus here. It’s okay….
  
The weight presses down, talon sinking into a hand and splashing hot blood across the entombing snow. Struggling to fend off the beast I hiss through the pain of a Graft but the thing seems quite aware of what I was attempting and with a wicked grin slams my chin back even as I try to lunge for a bite.
+
Wrestling with the bucking Augur, Nerta continues the litany of soothing words even as she glances about the room to make sure nothing else is sneaking up on them.  
 
 
Oh yes, this thing saw me yesterday….This… might be it…
 
 
 
Suddenly the beast roars and slithers about like a serpent to glare toward the treeline, leaving me to lash out with a fist. The creature is more surprised than hurt, but bounds back letting me sit up with a groan of my grotesque grimace.
 
 
 
Before I can do anything else the Hunter scampers off, no doubt to warn its band that the ambush had been foiled.
 
 
 
Holding my hand as blood oozes into the snow I can see two figures by the edge of the trees, a horrified little boy in the arms of Vedens.
 
 
 
The man's haggard expression is far less jovial than last night, but not disgusted.
 
 
 
“Friend, don’t wander off next time. It’s dangerous out here, even for you,” wincing he adjusts the lad in his arms who in turn buried his face to wail, “And maybe clean your mouth, it’s scaring the boy and I have a wicked headache.”
 
 
 
The Graft is already fading in the usual swell of pain but I refused to turn away from the man. Maybe, maybe he is a friend, but if so:
 
 
 
This is what I am.
 
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
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|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
 
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Type=Roleplay
|Sender=Jacinda the Driven
+
|Sender=Jetta the Augur
|Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor]]
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content=
+
|Content=Jetta suddenly calms down at the feel of Nerta and hearing her soothing voice. Jetta snaps out of it and grabs a hold of Nerta in an embrace.
 +
 
 +
"Thank you Nerta, thank you so much. I am so happy to have met you."
 +
 
 +
Jetta then suddenly kissed Nerta on the cheek. Jetta passes out from exhaustion afterwards.
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
|Title= Adventurer
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>
 +
  
  
 
<center>{{Message2
 
<center>{{Message2
 
|Width=80%
 
|Width=80%
|Type=Report
+
|Type=Roleplay
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
 
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver
|Recipients=Everyone in the Past
+
|Recipients=Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
|Content='''Flashback'''
+
|Content=Just like last time.
Everyone was happy.
 
 
 
The father was happy for the miracle.
 
 
 
The boy was happy to be home.
 
 
 
I was happy to be paid.
 
 
 
And Vedens was happy to have more wine.
 
 
 
The pop of a cork pulls my gaze from the bandaged hand, "Why are you trying to get drunk again?"
 
 
 
Vedens responds after wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, "Better question, why aren't you? You've had a bad day after all," he frowns, "or wait, do your kind even have wine?"
 
 
 
Glancing around the small celebration of our return I wrinkle my nose, "No."
 
 
 
"Well that's unfortunate…" Taking another pull from the skin he pointedly doesn't offer a taste, not that I'd take one. "Or wait do you guys drink that fermented ichor stuff?"
 
 
 
Turning back I snort, "Oh yes, so we can gain the strength of our enemies, obviously."
 
 
 
"Alright, alright. No need to be so prickly," hopping up to join me on my table seat he continues to drink in silence leaving me to fidget under the cloak.
 
 
 
"Thank you, for the cloak, by the way."
 
 
 
"And saving your life?"
 
 
 
My gaze flickers away, "I…"
 
 
 
"...had it under control?" Laughing he takes another drink, "Listen friend, I get you're tough, and your little boogeyman routine keeps the others away but you don't have to be the lone wolf if you don't want."
 
 
 
Lips compress in a thin line, "I liked you better drunk."
 
 
 
"I like me better drunk too," he grins around the mouth of the wineskin even as I snort.
 
 
 
“Despite you being an ass about it; I needed the help, so thank you.”
 
 
 
The rest of the plebs swirl around us in their frivolity, only occasionally stopping by to offer thanks, but never lingering.
 
 
 
He spends the time drinking only to eventually pause and rub the back of his neck, “Sorry, for cutting you off there. I just… guessed, what with the running off in the morning and such, that you were one of those ‘strong silent types’.”
 
 
 
Pushing back a few stray hairs I smirk, he probably meant ‘frigid bitch’. Look at the two of us trying to be civil… “Let’s just say the last person who showed me any kindness stole everything I had and had other… plans for my body.
 
  
His brows shoot up in shock and I give him a shove, “Not like that, honestly you lowlanders are so uptight. No, I got injured and woke with ink marks all over my arms, preparation for dissection, or so I was told by an Old Man.
+
An exhausted Jetta in her arms, Nerta is forced to conclude Augurs are huggers. Cold too but that makes sense, they get their visions from the Ice Queen. Too many visions, too cold. So they hug.
  
Vedens makes quite the face, and I’d seen him last night, “Well that’s disgusting. I had heard that the old Factorium did experiments on your kind but I thought it was closed long ago.”
+
The frosty kiss is new though.  
  
Factorium? That was news…. Though maybe not for the Old Man given his expression. Looks like there was more dangers in this land than monsters.
+
Rubbing the spot with a bemused smile, Nerta glares at the specter’s silent comment before helping Jetta settle down on a bedroll. Time to keep watch then…. And maybe make some food, Jetta will be hungry when she wakes.
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]]
 
}}</center>
 
}}</center>

Revision as of 15:40, 27 May 2022

ValenticCatacomb.jpg


Roleplay from Jacinda the Driven
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
After searching the area for 3 hours, following trails and noises, you finally encounter an organized horde of highly disciplined and warlike undead.

They are led by an undead champion, an evil creature with more power and intelligence than the usual lot.

Because you are close to home and familiar with the lay of the land, you are able to use the terrain to your advantage.

The battle rages, you against the undead. Your blows land true, shattering them to dust left and right.

The champion makes you sweat; he is quite the opponent. But in the end, he is just a pile of bones, too.

Among what is left of the champion, you find treasures worth a total of 4 gold, 8 silver.

It was interesting, working with a group. She had never done that before, outside of some early failed attempts in the far north. Someone else had done most of the legwork, finding the signs of an infestation in an abandoned warehouse in the docks, tracking them down into a cove underneath the piers, and returning the scouts and sentries to the dust they belonged to. Her first attempt on the cove had gone...Middling. She had destroyed a warband that was moving out to gather (and create) more corpses, but the noise had attracted too much attention and she had barely managed to escape from the whole horde that charged out.

But yet again, someone had whittled down the horde. So Jacinda studied the area, closely, and found another entrance besides the well-guarded opening under the pier. And carefully making her way through a small tunnel where a pack of zombie dogs had retreated after a kill, she came upon them unawares.

These ones were smart, and they reacted quickly, forming up around their champion. But that made hindered the champion while she picked off its guard, and eventually it was just her... And it.

It looked almost elegant. Its bones were picked thoroughly clean, and shone in the lamplight. There was a silken cape covering part of its form, a knife covered with dried blood in its hand, and a large gemstone set in its forehead. As they circled each other, making occasional feints, she watched how it moved, seeing that it was not quite how a human with that form would be able to move the joints. So when she brought her mace in and shattered a few ribs, she was not completely surprised when the rest of the ribs lashed out at her. She managed to dance out of the way in time, and while there were some dicey moments, she methodically crushed bones until it could not evade well enough, and a final crack destroyed the gem, removing the animation from the dry bones.

She paused a moment, gathering her breath, before gathering the knife, the cape, and everything else of value that she could find, before using a small keg of lantern oil she found to cover everything and light it on fire as she made her way out. The glowing fire behind her threw shadows across her face, and the red light danced in the tide, as a satisfied smile made its way across her face.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

She looked down at the knife, the blood black in the night.

"Athame crack from ruin and rust."

She strode away as smoke filled the air, remembering another smoke-filled night she had been unable to prevent.
Jacinda the Driven (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Jetta the Augur
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Jetta closes her eyes, then sees strange books and what looks like what could be an ancient library. She sees what could be another adventurer with her. But suddenly a monster attacks and breaks Jetta's focus.

"This is not good at all..... though I can not rely solely on that vision. The future is in constant Flux. So that may not be what will happen."

She stands up after being knocked from her vision. She proceeds to an inn to relax for a bit..... but then someone suddenly knock on her door..........
Jetta the Augur (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Well this group needs some proper killing.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)


Roleplay from Jetta the Augur
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Nerta,

Something seems to be shrouding my visions. They are not nearly as clear as they use to be. I think a mystic force might be interfering with my abilities.

I am going to investigate this further.
Jetta the Augur (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Jack the Wanderer
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Another champion. There has to be some evil force at work here. Some necromancer or evil priest raising the dead? Using dark magics to make them smarter and stronger? My gran told me stories like this.

After searching the area for 1 hours, following trails and noises, you finally encounter an organized horde of highly disciplined and warlike undead. They are led by an undead champion, an evil creature with more power and intelligence than the usual lot. You fight with zeal and strength - but the undead are unimpressed. They feel neither pain nor fear, but you do. Lots of it.

Then you give up trying to defeat them and you only try to get away - but you find yourself surrounded! You fight on, desperately trying, and they beat on you without end. After what seems like eternity, you manage to break through their ranks. Exhausted and bleeding from many small cuts, you escape. A little rest and you will be ready again.
Jack the Wanderer (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
The Old Man says it's the Valentic Catacombs. The faith created warens to house the dead and meet in secret. All in preparation for the final battle against the "betrayers". Since the bindings are failing that end might be close at hand. Or maybe the Crystal Maiden is just trying to stop us.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)


Roleplay from Jetta the Augur
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
"Well this is odd my visions are back, but I just had another vision...... it was of a women getting off a boat in the capital of Ar Agyr? I do not seem to recogni- wait a minute I do know her! Its my.... sister?!"
Jetta the Augur (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Jetta the Augur
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Jetta becomes deadly wide eyed feeling the heavy presence of magic that she has never felt before.

"What is this?! This is definitely not normal magic!!!"

She saw ravens flying in the sky.

"By the Gods!! It's death magic!!!!"

Jetta suddenly goes nuts and screams frantically with images of the possible future. Everyone suddenly looking at her as if she is having some kind of attack.

"AHHHHHH MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!! SO MANY IMAGES AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
Jetta the Augur (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Screams.

At the sound of Jetta’s screams Nerta races down the gloomy hall, her torch roaring in her ears as she skids back into the central chamber they’d split from. Amidst the bones and niches dedicated to Valentic martyrs and believers languishes one living soul. Jetta’s arms and legs thrashing, racked by pain the usually dour woman wastes no time in coming to her companion’s aid.

Strong hands grip at Jetta’s limbs, guiding the woman to rest against the side wall even as she hisses, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Focus on my voice. Focus here. It’s okay….”

Wrestling with the bucking Augur, Nerta continues the litany of soothing words even as she glances about the room to make sure nothing else is sneaking up on them.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)


Roleplay from Jetta the Augur
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Jetta suddenly calms down at the feel of Nerta and hearing her soothing voice. Jetta snaps out of it and grabs a hold of Nerta in an embrace.

"Thank you Nerta, thank you so much. I am so happy to have met you."

Jetta then suddenly kissed Nerta on the cheek. Jetta passes out from exhaustion afterwards.
Jetta the Augur (Adventurer)


Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver
Message sent to Everyone by the Catacombs of Agyr
Just like last time.

An exhausted Jetta in her arms, Nerta is forced to conclude Augurs are huggers. Cold too but that makes sense, they get their visions from the Ice Queen. Too many visions, too cold. So they hug.

The frosty kiss is new though.

Rubbing the spot with a bemused smile, Nerta glares at the specter’s silent comment before helping Jetta settle down on a bedroll. Time to keep watch then…. And maybe make some food, Jetta will be hungry when she wakes.
Nerta the Weaver (Foederati)