Difference between revisions of "Unti Family/Nerta/A1S5"
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− | <center>{{Message2 | + | |- |
− | |Width= | + | ! Wolf's Howl |
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+ | |<center>{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
|Type=Report | |Type=Report | ||
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
− | |Recipients= | + | |Recipients=Flashback - Escape from Mhed |
− | |Content= | + | |Content=Branches claw and drag at the rough wool tunic, tearing fabric and leaving gashes. The dark cackle of the old woman seems to stalk from the shadows driving me forward, away from the old woman and her ink. Stomach settled, my head no longer spins, but something much worse shadows me. Rounding on the snarling shape amidst a break in the trees I brace, hands fumbling for a club, a rock, anything. |
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− | Branches claw and drag at rough wool, tearing fabric and leaving gashes. | ||
− | But it | + | But it's not enough. |
− | + | The weight of the beast slams me against a trunk, my stomach lurching as I lash with fists. One blow connects with spongy tissue with a wet thump, even as another scrapes along chitin plates. My vision swims and heart races as some searing oozes drips down one arm. | |
− | + | With a clicking hiss at the back of my mouth I roll to the side, slamming the beast through the thin scrub. It gave me time enough to rub my arm in the snow to clear the slime, and let the familiar pain of a Graft blossoms across my jaw. The beast wobbles upright a moment later but mid lunge becomes aware that something is wrong. It's too late however and I strike, chelicerae 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. | 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. | ||
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I needed a real weapon, shelter.. time. The old woman had stolen everything. | I needed a real weapon, shelter.. time. The old woman had stolen everything. | ||
− | Pushing through the | + | Pushing through the next corps of trees I tumble in the gloom to trip on a root but manage to 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. | + | 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 dripping down my jaw. |
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?” | 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?” | ||
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|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
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+ | |<center>{{Message2 | ||
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Report | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=Nerta, Wren, and Vedens find Mulki happily bouncing on her heels. While they'd been having such a grand adventure in the old catacombs, the excitable chatterbox had successfully purchased not one, nor two, but three separate wharfs. Next to their harrowing time in the dark all Nerta could do was smile and lead the motley crew down the winding streets until they stand in the shadow of the Odeon Cruor. Built out of stone from the foothills of Qual during the height of the [[Melhed|Republic]] and shaped by the finest artisans, even now the towering statues peer down at the thronging crowds of the merchant square. | ||
+ | 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. | ||
+ | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | <center>{{Message2 | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
− | |Width= | + | |Width=100% |
|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 [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] |
− | |Content= | + | |Content=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. |
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− | 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. | ||
"Blasted misbegotten feelings are no reason to run across a continent..." | "Blasted misbegotten feelings are no reason to run across a continent..." | ||
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|Title= Adventurer | |Title= Adventurer | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | + | |<center>{{Message2 | |
− | + | |Width=100% | |
− | <center>{{Message2 | ||
− | |Width= | ||
|Type=Report | |Type=Report | ||
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
− | |Recipients= | + | |Recipients=Flashback - Escape from Mhed |
− | |Content= | + | |Content=After that he gave me a cloak. It smells, but it’s better than half torn sackcloth. |
− | After that he gave me a cloak. | ||
− | |||
− | It smells | ||
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− | |||
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. | 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 chilly specter of the Old Man shares a few choice words, but I ignore him 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.” | We sit in silence for a time, save the crackling of the fire, but eventually I mutter, “Thanks. I'm Nerta.” | ||
− | “Vhedensh,” he | + | “Vhedensh,” he slurs and smiles before taking another pull of the wine. Based on his burp the sour drink seems to please him. “F-F-F-Foederati, right?” |
For some reason the old word doesn’t make me wince. | For some reason the old word doesn’t make me wince. | ||
− | “Ya,” I glance away in the dark, “From the mountains.” | + | “Ya,” I glance away in the dark, “From the [[Beluaterra/Roof of the World|Roof of the World]] uh... the mountains west of here. ” |
“Knew it! Ha. Thsss cool. ‘m from Agyr,” one pause later he adds, “You should gets clothesh ‘nd stuff. Dangerous out here.” | “Knew it! Ha. Thsss cool. ‘m from Agyr,” one pause later he adds, “You should gets clothesh ‘nd stuff. Dangerous out here.” | ||
− | + | I snort, lips pursed. “Had stuff, was robbed in Mhed.” | |
“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.” | “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.” | + | “It was a robbery, not some…” I snort and wave a hand, “game.” |
+ | |||
+ | Though the crone certainly had something in mind, the ink marks... | ||
“Pssssssh you need better friendsh.” | “Pssssssh you need better friendsh.” | ||
− | “I don’t have friends | + | “I don’t have friends.” My words bite like winter. 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.” | “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.” | ||
− | + | Furrowing my brow, 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... | 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... | ||
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|Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
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− | <center>{{Message2 | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
− | |Width= | + | |Width=100% |
|Type=Roleplay | |Type=Roleplay | ||
− | |Sender= | + | |Sender=Wren the Watcher |
− | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor]] | + | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor 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=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?” | ||
+ | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | Jacinda blinked. | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Jacinda the Driven | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=Jacinda blinked. Had she just… | ||
Chirped? | Chirped? | ||
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“I don’t know what this was. I’m from the north, though. On the Bay of Calm, of all the blasted ironic names.” | “I don’t know what this was. I’m from the north, though. On the Bay of Calm, of all the blasted ironic names.” | ||
+ | |Title=Adventurer | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
+ | |||
− | 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. | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=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. | Just like her. | ||
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“I don’t know why, but I do know who. The Gods sent you…” | “I don’t know why, but I do know who. The Gods sent you…” | ||
+ | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | Jacinda froze. | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Jacinda the Driven | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=Jacinda froze. | ||
“You...You know…” | “You...You know…” | ||
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“Which gods?” | “Which gods?” | ||
+ | |Title=Adventurer | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | 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… | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=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.” | 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.” | ||
+ | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | Jacinda laughed, hollowly. | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Jacinda the Driven | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=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…” | “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…” | ||
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“Can they help me kill necromancers? Because if so, then where do I sign up?” | “Can they help me kill necromancers? Because if so, then where do I sign up?” | ||
+ | |Title=Adventurer | ||
+ | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | “Help you?” Nerta | + | |<center>{{Message2 |
+ | |Width=100% | ||
+ | |Type=Roleplay | ||
+ | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver | ||
+ | |Recipients=Everyone by the [[Agyr/Plebeians/Arena|Odeon Cruor of Agyr]] | ||
+ | |Content=“Help you?” Kevan's blood still stains her cloak. The absurdity of it all... Nerta can't help the laugh that bubbles up, a sound none of her new companions had heard in all their travels. It is bitter and full of vitriol. “The Gods do not help you. Why, most of them want us dead and gone for humans are seen as weak!” | ||
− | Gesturing to | + | Gesturing to specter that none could see, Nerta presses. “The Old Man tried for years to earn the love of the Gods and what has it given him? He is but a haunting shade, shackled to me and his people languish alone.” |
− | + | The fury of those glittering eyes seems near absolute. Such pointless death and suffering all because of capricious Gods and hideous beasts. “You hunt a necromancer? A weak man seduced by the Crystal Maiden and the power of the Abyss. Yet the other Gods do not grant us a boon in hunting them. We are expected to endure despite the odds. To prove our 'worth'.” | |
− | |Title= | + | |Title= [[Melhed/Foederati|Foederati]] |
}}</center> | }}</center> | ||
+ | |- | ||
− | + | |<center>{{Message2 | |
− | <center>{{Message2 | + | |Width=100% |
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|Type=Report | |Type=Report | ||
|Sender=Nerta the Weaver | |Sender=Nerta the Weaver |
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