| 2nd Expedition
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The cloaked figure entering the Bayside Slums eyes the growing crowds cautiously. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Impi preached to the masses for 5 hours, reaching a total audience of 446 listeners.
90 pagans and believers in local folklore appear to be convinced and you formally convert them to The Saints of Revenon in a small ceremony.
There are 9 followers of other faiths that swayed and converted to The Saints of Revenon.
"Ah a good days preach on self-control and wisdom. It may have been short but, it showed enough for other to believe." He walks off the podium book in had is hammer in hand. As Believer approaches his "Your Highness another priest has appeared in the in the city. It appears to be Priestess Nerta of the Old Gods though they have themselves shrouded at the moment wishing to hide." He smiles back "Good, she has arrived I've been expecting her so she can show this mystery under the city. " "Oh would you like for us to bring her to the temple for" the believers replies. "Yes please do but, send the Children with you. Not many people would turn down to followe a flock of happy children screaming their name. I'll be in my office when you get back so you know where to find me."
"Yes your Highness will. Katy, Mark, Gian, Nikki, Jorge come with me we have a guess for the Highness." |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta's trip through the slums is cut short as a swarm of children boil out of the warren. Surrounded she prepares for battle, yet they do not appear hostile. So much for slipping in unnoticed, someone has been watching for her.
Led to the Saintly temple by the troupe, glittering eyes take in the décoré; and the man in the centre of it all. A puppet master pulling strings. Perhaps she should cut them...
Marching too close to Impi, she stares at him for a few heartbeats. Finally she clicks.
"Any good with that hammer, or do you always send children to do your dirty work?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| "Firstly I'm Cavalier and using dirty works is not my playstyle. Secondly I wouldn't use children in schemes. Thirdly if you want to see how good I am with my hammer. That can be done." Impi reaches back and throws the greathammer with one hand towards Nerta. He then runs towards fist full of eager.
"If this is how you want to meet then may Saint Orius make this a act of his will" |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The hooded woman cracks a faint smile.
"The first bit means nothing. The second could be a lie. But the third..."
Dropping to the floor, she brings the butt of her spear around to strike the charging man.
"...has my attention."
Nerta's twitching movements see her springing from her crouch, though the cloak barely rustles. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Impi grins at the spear "Seems we're on even playing field". As he nears he takes note that his hammer is 5 ft away from Nerta.
As he bears near he doesn't stop running at full speed. Spear ready for him he puts his shoulder forward and uses his other hand to grab the spear and shoulder slams into Nerta. His huge body throws her back as he let's go of the spear.
She's pushed 10ft. Impi theb walks to his greathammer and wields ot properly. "Now let's begin" |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Training Match
Impi Wolfvern, Royal of Reven, Duke of Argonautica Orphica, Priest of The Saints of Revenon meets his challenger Lady Nerta Unti, Judge of Ar Agyr, Dame of Agyr, Priestess of The Old Gods for the agreed training match.
Both participants are using the 'trick moves' strategy, so that neither has an advantage.
After a series of blows, Impi wins the training match.
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Despite her aggression, Nerta hadn't actually planned to harm the man. In fact she was intending to knock him to the ground and plant a foot on his chest. However as she twitched to the side of the wild swing, the tricky woman discovered she wasn't the only one with a plan.
The stones crunch as the hammer lands, but Impi wasn't holding it anymore. Instead one hand gripped her cloak and the other a knife against her jaw.
"Hmmm. Sneaky."
If the metal tracing along her neck bothered her, Nerta didn't show it.
"Since I've kissed enough fools lately. I concede." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| He smiles "Good I don't know what the hell this was about anyhow" He releases the cloak and sheathed his hidden dagger. Walks away about to get his bearings "Father always said never draw your weapon unless your going to kill. Also always have a carry a hidden one when your unarmed." I'm 32 years old and I still follow the lesson since the age of 6.
He then turns around and properly face the priestess. " Now greeting Priestess Nerta I'm glad you've arrived. There are things to show you and questions I still have about this Pool of whiseprs."
"Ahh and before I forget there are others headed this way about the pool as well." |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta settles her cloak with a deepening frown as the man speaks.
"The Pool of Black Whispers? Only a madman would seek that cursed place. The Pool is a conduit to the Soul Crusher, the Deep One: The Crystal Maiden. Drawing the attention of the Gods is foolish enough, but only the most twisted of would be Necromancers seek the Cursed Seductress of their own volition." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta I need you to look around and remember what city your in and the realm you've traveled to.
Wudenkin city the Cursed City. It was once the capital of Vordul Sanguinis the nation ruled by a madman. A man whose left his mark in many minds. He went and meet the Crystal Maiden and the lands have been touched very since. The only way to correct this and rid of such a curse is to go where he did.
I don't seek ut for necromancy but, to cure our lands pray the minds of its people too. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta's gaze flickers to the side before quickly snapping back to Impi.
"The city has been cursed long before that bloody cult took root. Indeed your Vordulists were not the first, nor will they be the last."
Glancing to the door of the temple as Eowyn arrives, Nerta purses her lips.
"I can guide you once we enter the Vault, but the answers below will raise more questions and I warm; the curse is eternal." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Queen Eowyn,
Apologies for the abrupt training match. Priestess Nerta thrusted one at myseld and made me realize something. It may be good to test everyones' swordung fighting ability when climbunf down to the locked lairs of Xclair. From what Nerta says the Pool of Whispers sounds almost like a direct link to the Crystal Maiden. Who knows what may be found from around so best to be safe and make sure everyone is well able.
Is there any others that have come with you? |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| I don't know how old the curse is but it needs to end. I don't care what it takes but, something must be done before it sips draws whatever whispers it emits it makes.
I can unlock the chamber once our other guest arrives. I will take us to the forbidden areas and from there I'll follow your lead |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta, the Warrior-priestess of the Old Gods, continues to stalk around the Temple of the Saints. The hammer wielding Impi had said others were arriving for the expedition into the Vault. An expedition she would guide.
Well... The Old Man would guide and Fate would punish...
The arrival of Allia and Clyde pulls her from the brooding.
"Two more to brave the depths. To what end? |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta the number is 4 including yourself into this. Not let me unlock the chains and remove the logs that block the door.
Is indeed the temple a huge painting of Xclair is hung on the opposite side of the room from the door. A coffin bedazzled with gems, runes, and writing covered it. Writing of his accomplishments was written on stones that layer in front of it. His Cursed armor was to the east wall and pieced together. On the west all what is weapon that he used. Cleaned as if it was freshly polished.
" This temple has been closed since I took rulership. I'm surprised it has managed to still be in such conditions. Follow me to the under chamber to where the vault lays.:
Past his coffin was a dark staircase of stone that went deep into the ground. The vault was at its ending. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Éowyn follows Impi a few steps behind. Behind Prince Clyde's presence both comforts and emboldens her spirit in this oppressive tomb. Not sure of what she is seeing around her Éowyn keeps her hands and feet to herself and touches nothing.
"Why was it sealed up to begin with? I must admit my knowledge is lacking in many aspects of the greater world," Éowyn asks as she makes her way to stairs. |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
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| Roleplay from Clyde Wilde |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Clyde had arrived to the gathering wearing a fine gray cloak of fine spun wool, draped over a dark brown tunic with a thick belt across the waist. The belt's buckle had been fashioned in an engraved W with a rabbit peeking out behind it. His trousers were of linen, and they too were of the darker sort. His boots were sturdy, and looked like a rich man's variant of miner boots.
He quickly linked up with his liege, Queen Eowyn, as the former Light Bringer opened up the sealed temple. Inside, with all depictions and personal belongings of Xlair Silverblade, Clyde felt an uneasiness creep upon him. From what Clyde had heard, Xlair represented many things but none of them particularly good. He felt relieved that neither his Queen nor Duke Impi did not linger long in this room.
Making sure he stayed just a few steps behind Queen Eowyn, he looked forward to leave this room and head down the dark and stony staircase. |
| Clyde Wilde (Duke of Winterthorne) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| And so their journey begins. First the tomb of Xlair, Bloody Prince Mouth of the Maiden, Would be Usurper.
Nerta inspects the room but makes no move to approach the rune etched remains. Instead she follows Impi's lead as party moves toward the stairs.
However there is one curious soul among them who lingers and inspects the armour. Revealed in the polished gleam of that dark blade is a bearded and shadowy spectre who's eyes burn with violet flame.
"Fascinating... The palace used to be closer to the lake. This structure must have been built atop my old excavation. The only question, who by: this Bloody Prince, Valhus, someone else?"
The musings of the shade are a chill wind on the air that seem to echo from the mirror. Turning from the gear, he trails behind the others while Nerta speaks to Eowyn.
"Xlair was a madman. But that can be said about any self-styled Emperors..."
The spectre smirks and passes from view of the blade, vanishing once again.
"He claimed to be an immortal God calling on his people to worship him. He believed himself chosen by the Crystal Maiden and planned to usurpe the Dark Mistress and his patron to become the God of Death, Pain & Blood."
Nerta accepts a torch and holds it high as they descend into the dark.
"Thankfully he died when the equally crazy Emperor of Shattered Vales ran him through with a lance." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| "We don't talk that part of our history. The minimal that I'd know is that this was once Vordul and he ruled. The rest only 4 of us know that happened to him and what became of him. Now let's open this vault. "
A giant stone door sat and the end of the staircase. It had be craved into with runes and chains big as a horses head. They crossed together to make a X in the middle and the ends were hammered deep in the stone walls. No lock mechanism was on the chains. Unreadable marks where scattered around it old language unknown to himself.
Quiet whispers can he heard leaking from the door. Like a child's voice softly begging for a answer. Saying things he couldn't understand.
𐍂𐍉𐌳𐌾𐌴𐌹𐍃 𐌲𐌿𐍄𐌹𐍃𐌺𐌰 𐍂𐌰𐌶𐌳𐌰? 𐍆𐍂𐌰𐌻𐌴𐍄 𐌼𐌹𐌺 𐌳𐌿 𐍅𐌹𐍃𐌰𐌽 𐍃𐌿𐌽𐌳𐍂𐍉. W𐌷𐌸 𐌳𐍉 𐌸𐍉𐌿 c𐍉𐌼𐌴 𐌷𐌴𐍂𐌴. T𐌷𐌴 𐌻𐌰𐌳𐌸 𐌰𐍅𐌰𐌹𐍄𐍃 𐍅𐍉𐌽'𐍄 𐌸𐍉𐌿 𐍃𐌴𐌴 𐌷𐌴𐍂𐌴. P𐌻𐌴𐌰𐍃𐌴 𐌰𐌽𐍃𐍅𐌴𐍂 𐌿𐍃. T𐌷𐌴𐍂𐌴 𐌰𐍂𐌴 𐌼𐌰𐌽𐌸 𐍄𐌷𐌹𐌽𐌲𐍃 𐍄𐌷𐌰𐍄 𐌸𐍉𐌿 𐍃𐌴𐌴𐌺 𐍅𐌴 𐌺𐌽𐍉𐍅
(Why are you here. They Lady you seek is here. Leave us alone. Please answer us. Their many that seek to see you)
This is as far as I've come before but, never cared to go farther even though I could. Thought today that changes. He speaks "D𐌰𐍂𐌺𐌽𐌴𐍃𐍃 𐌹𐍃 𐌱𐌿𐍄, 𐍄𐌷𐌴 𐌻𐌹𐌲𐌷𐍄 𐍅𐌹𐍄𐌷𐍉𐌿𐍄 c𐍉𐌻𐍉𐍂". (Darkness is bit. the light without colour.) The rods that sink into the walls pushed out and fell. The runes light a dark green and door slides open on its own.
"From here Nerta I best believe we follow your lead." |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Lead them she did, deep into the earth. The torches are the only source of light, their march the only sound, and their breath the only signs of life. Even rats avoided these halls, and the walls seem to close in the flickering light.
Pausing by a junction, Nerta listens to the wind, and casts her glance around the dancing shadows. In times past someone had made this small room a camp: Rotten crates, broken barrels, a threadbare rope, scattered bones...
The woman crouches amidst the wreckage, and casts a glittering glance over her shoulder to the Arch Rever himself.
"This camp, isn't that old. And you could open the door. Just how many times have you tried this trip hammer-man?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| "I've been down here once and that in the early stages of me taking rulership. I needed to know what layer in every corner within my realm. I never went very far due to voices and in a strange place. Very ruler knows the way in here. All secrets are shared when a ruler is taken."
" I found etchings of words in the room when I first came. I believe to be echos of what happened here. If I remember correctly ..."
Impi moved to the to a rumbled table broken in pieces. Looks at the table careful " Here it said daimon steel." The put his on against the table and faint words could so silently be heard. Next he moved to the barrel crushed as if by a blunt force. " Here laid the crushed stone as hit by a blunt object. Lastly he grabs a torch and begins scanning the floor. Their were slashes still engraved along the floor as if a fight happened. All the markings he seen before were still there but looked as it aged. Several cuts and dent marks was spread among the location.
D𐌴𐌰𐍄𐌷 𐍅𐌰𐍂𐍂𐌹𐍉𐍂, h𐌴𐍂 c𐌷𐌰𐌼𐍀𐌹𐍉𐌽𐍃
(Death Warrior, Her Champions)
The voice spoke clearly once again to him.
T𐌷𐌴𐌸 𐍃𐍄𐌹𐌻𐌻 𐍅𐍉𐌽𐌳𐌴𐍂
(They still wonder)
"And the same words I still here but dont understand " I had hope you'd know more. I hope I am correct. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta frowns and listens to the twin songs on the wind.
"I hope you're not, because I recognize that tongue and I doubt Xlair learned it for noble reasons. But all the same, we continue this way."
The next section of the path reveals many old traps that had been sprung by liberal use of volunteers. The remains of many still litter the hall, and unfortunately some of them move.
"Rattlers. Once again I'm cleaning up your mess Old Man..."
The light of the torch gleams off bone as her spear swinging into position. A rattling clack accompanies the jittering movements as those burning blue eyes settle on the party.
And then more light, all the way into the dark.
"Not much room to dance in here. Any of you good with a shield?" |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Looking around in surprise Éowyn takes a moment to gather herself. Never before had she been in a place so full of... magic? Power? Curse?
As the sounds of rattling movement echoes through the oppressive chamber and Nerta asks, "Not much room to dance in here. Any of you good with a shield?"
Startled by the this abrupt change of the journey Éowyn takes a step backward and gently bumps Clyde. This light bump reawakens Éowyn's resolve.
Stepping forward and puffing up her chest to make herself seem bigger. "I am..." Éowyn pauses as she draws her short blade, "absolutely terrible with these things, but don't worry Prince Clyde is way better then I am and Impi soundly defeated me in a spar." |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
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| Roleplay from Clyde Wilde |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Clyde unclasped his grey cloak and put it in Queen Eowyn’s arms before moving up to the spear-wielding warrior-priestess. He had left his own equipment in his camp not far from the temple, an action he now sorely regretted.
“I can not claim that my skill with shields is remarkable, but I do know my way around with one - Else I doubt I would have been standing here today. If nothing else, allow me to be our shield” Clyde took a torch to use as a cudgel, and pulled a knife from his boot. It wasn’t much, and he doubted that the blade would help against the undead, but having some sort of real weapon relieved him. “Very well then, priestess. I usually let others do this kind of work for me, but it seems like I have little choice this time around. Offence is the best defence, no?”
Clutching his makeshift weapons, Clyde runs up to face the approaching skeleton, its eyes dancing like blue flame candles in the dim light. If Clyde did not know the source of the lights came from, he would have probably have called the candle like lights pretty.
The skeleton reacts to the approaching human by lunging forward with its sword in a mechanical motion, and Clyde catches the blade with his cudgel with a thud. With the rattler’s sword locked, Clyde moves in to strike at the skull with his knife, but it bounces off the walking dead’s thick skull without leaving any dent or trace. Clyde drops the knife in response, and attempts to grapple the skeleton instead. While struggling to do so, he shouts for aid:
“I could use that spear of yours right about now, I believe.”
During the scuffle he also notices that this skeleton has the same funky odour that his now late grandmother always carried with her. How peculiar. |
| Clyde Wilde (Duke of Winterthorne) |
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| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| As Clyde hands Éowyn his cloak and rushes into combat. Èowyn smiles at the enthusiasm of Clydes charge with but a torch and a dagger. Taking the cloak and flapping her arm around to wrap the forearm up in the cloak Éowyn steps up confidently up to protect Clyde's flank.
Éowyn prepares herself for the fight. Knowing full well he improvised shield won't stop a direct blow Éowyn prepares to smack incoming attacks aside while still trying to dodge the heavier blows.
"Ancestors guide our blades to strike true! Bask in glory of our inevitable conquest of our enemies!" |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| "My hammer a bit to big to swing in this hallway!!!. I hope your better with that spear than they are with a sword." He unbundled his hammer from his side. It he readied it in front of himself. " I may not be able to swing it but ... " Cylde rushes by him ready to engage the rattling of Bones in front of us.
"Well aren't you eager to go.... " The flames of the torch lights the walls bright revealing the onyx stone gems that surrounded them. Pulsing with blue auras like the mysterious lights that mesmerize the night sky. Each step the rattlers takes the colors flicker faster.
Queen Eowyn could be making her prayer behind. So he turns to her "I'll be your shield I can't attack. Though I can most surely block so you can strike. May your Ancestors give you the strength you need"
They both moved forwarded and engaged the evil being. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| None could doubt the courage of the trio. Stepping up to be a bulwark against the darkness with only one hammer and no armour. Nerta could certainly doubt their good sense, but not their courage.
“Crystal Cursed Patricians! Did none of you come prepared?”
Joining Clyde's charge, her spear haft crashes through the skull of the one wrestling Clyde while a free hand grabs Éowyn's torch. A series of horizontal sweeps crack through more jittering bones, scattering them into the walls and painting the hall with trails of fire.
The dance that follows is shrouded in shadows and accompanied by the roar of flame. The surly woman tumbles to the floor as some clawed hands reach, only to vault past the first line and push off the onyx wall to deliver crushing blows.
Though at least 8 fell between her dance and Clyde's own blows, the sea of bones surge forward and a rotten shovel shatters against Nerta’s side. Staggering back against the wall with a hiss, she catches a pick with one torch and wrestles the rattling thing into Impi’s swing. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Impi Swings smashing all opportunities he could find to crush a rattler. " These things won't stop coming. What the hell we need to end this somehow. " A rattler tries to jab for Ewoyn throat. " ...NO NICE TRY!!" He rapidly swings to deflect and it connects the rattler misses its target. Instead it chips the wall directly onto the glowing gem. It's lustrous glow is dimmed and breaks making one of the skulls break and fall.
However, it isn't noticed while the stress of the oncoming rattlers continues down towards them. As the minutes go by more and more gems are accidently chipped or crushed to overswings an exhaustion.
I don't know what we're doing but, it works so lets keep it up as long as possible. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| As the skeletons fall one by one. Éowyn beings to lose herself to the dance of death she once almost enbarced. With shards of bone chips flying thru the air after each of Lord Impi's massive hammer strikes and the rattling clutter if dropping bones from both Nerta and Clyde, Éowyn's past as an infiltrator shines as dexterity and grace required allows her to slip throw and arround skeletons as if they were mere statues.
With cloak wrapped arm as a makeshift shield and the flat of her sword as a cudgel her dance is both graceful with beauty and destruction. Flowing fabics seem to float upon the air with every twist and turn. Skeletal hands lopped at the wrist or headless bodies flop to the floor as dance flows through the tide of undeath.
During Pause Éowyn takes a moment to catch her breath. Her once conservative but elegant clothes show rips and tares. A boneshard now adorn her hair like small beads of white. A trickle of blood from a small gash runs down her forehead. A stain of blood upon her bicep where a tip of a blade got past her improvised guard.
Survey the rest of the group laughter fills her as shield calls out to Clyde, "Prince Clyde are our catacombs as exciting as these?" |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
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| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| After dealing with several more minutes of crushing gems, taking strikes, crushing bones, and exhausting the rattlers are defeated. Their bones scattered along the long hallway stretches from end to end. Gem fragments litter the floors as tiny dust crystals reflecting the lights as a dark blue glow. One could say a blue road that the parry could follow.
They rested to gather their breathe and calm their nerves. No whispers could be heard around them. No voices that spoke from the entrance could speak. Only the low echo of a water that came from further in the Catacombs. Once they gathered their strength the tracked forwarded further into the depths. As they got deeper the sounds of swirling water bear more clear and louder.
Once they reached deep enough they came across a vastly deiffenrt part of the tombs.
The walls we're no longer rocky like carved out from pickaxes. No after 1 hour of travel the walls changed to a smooth surfaces. Chiseled delicately with purpose. And it guided into a large room with giants pillars stand in 4 points. From a distance it looks like thrones or sits were places in the center most part Facing the goblet A giant goblet of stone sat in the middle of the room. No lights where or torches were here. However light still emitted from the room. Centered from the goblet. Black and blue light brightly showered from the goblet. At the roof of the room. Etches of writing was Chiseled beautiful into the stone in a circle pattern.
S𐌷𐌴 𐌺𐌽𐍉𐍅𐍃 𐌰𐌻𐌻.
l𐌹𐌴𐍃, 𐍄𐍂𐌿𐍄𐌷𐍃, 𐌰𐌽𐌳 𐌵𐌿𐌴𐍃𐍄𐌹𐍉𐌽𐍃.
s𐌷𐌴 𐌷𐌴𐌰𐍂𐍃 𐌰𐌻𐌻.
s𐌷𐌴 𐍅𐌰𐍄c𐌷𐌴𐍃 𐌰𐌻𐌻. N𐍉 𐌻𐌹𐍈𐌹𐌽𐌲 𐌴𐍃c𐌰𐍀𐌴𐍃. N𐍉 𐌳𐌴𐌰𐍄𐌷 𐍅𐌹𐍄𐌷𐍉𐌿𐍄 𐌷𐌴𐍂 𐌷𐌰𐌽𐌳. C𐌷𐌰𐍉𐍃 𐌷𐌴𐍂 𐍄𐍉𐍉𐌻 𐍄𐍉 𐍆𐍉𐍂𐌲𐌴 𐌷𐌴𐍂 c𐌷𐌰𐌼𐍀𐌹𐍉𐌽𐍃
(She knows all.
Lies, truths, and questions.
She hears all.
She watches all. No living escapes. No death without her hand. Chaos her tool to forge her champions.)
In the center of the circle a eye is painted in the middle. With several others marking surrounding it some are arrows pointing the 4 pillars of the room.
The pillars all had stone thrones craved into them. Each had a skeleton also sitted into them. With writing above their name with one of them in come language. Xclair. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
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| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| The tide breaks on their bulwark, leaving the expedition standing amidst the devastation of battle.
"Well, you may not have come prepared," Nerta breaks into a grin, "but you certainly know how to fight."
Passing the extra torch to Clyde she nods once, before moving to look over Éowyn. Quick with the bandages, Nerta certainly knows how to bind an arm.
"Your majesty, there are indeed extensive catacombs in your lands. The Valentic Order used to meet in cellars and, like rats, burrowed great warrens everywhere they went. Their heroes and martyrs were, briefly, entombed in these secret places in preparation of judgement day.”
A glance to the scattered remains is paired with a frown.
“But these are something else. These are the remains of earlier expeditions which means the Vault, and our goal, is ahead. Come, and make sure you are ready.”
They pass through slagged doors, chipped wide, and into an unlit cavern. The rumoured treasures of the Witch Queen seem to be missing, but anything might be hidden in the gloom. Before any can search, the song on the wind leads them downwards.
The depths are oppressive, crushing the bubbles of light with each step. By the time they reach the goblet, their feet are hidden from view and Nerta’s voice is muffled by the words boiling from the cup.
“Behold, the Pool of Black Whispers."
Another voice, thin and sharp like a stiletto, interjects.
"Behold, adventurers."
The ghostly silhouette slips around the cup, those burning green eyes the only distinct feature.
"I should not be surprised to find familiar faces down here. After all, it was only a matter of time before you started looking."
The figure approaches slowly, moving in time with the whispers.
"Though I wonder what you hope to find: answers, power, salvation?"
The gaze turns toward the throne marked 'Xlair'.
"All three can be found here, and will serve you well indeed." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
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| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Not really understanding what is going on Éowyn tosses Clydes now ruined cloak bag to him before stepping up next to Nerta.
Not really wanting to disturb the uncomfortable deafening silence that now engulfs the entire area. With eye locked upon the seated skeletons Èowyn leans toward Nerta's ear and in a barely audible whisper, "What is this place? And what was its purpose?"
With eyes transfixed upon the sight Éowyn patiently waits for a reply. |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
|
| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| Impi replied to the ethereal entity while his grip tightens on his hammer in preparation.
"We came here hunting rumors about the Pool of Black Whispers, only to find a room of evil lords. Though as you are here with the dead Xlair we know enough of your own intentions. Show your face creature."
The ghostly figure moves from the goblet into the shadows of the pillars. The glowing eyes brighten as it passes before the four. The rippling view behind the shade warps and changes, revealing towering skeletal figures seated upon the empty thrones. And from its hand you could see part of an arm where bone turned to melted flesh and yet beyond the elbow was nothing but the blackest of night.
"What do you know of evil young one? Children's tales with sneering lips, cold eyes and cruel laughs. It is true we captured a couple sloppy cities. And maybe you think I could be one of the worst of them. One of the great Liches, or Big Fang or Summoner of the 3rd invasion. Or perhaps Dominia the Daimon. You want to know something about Dominia though"
Then one of the vacant thrones chuckles, a short giggle it sounded like a woman's voice.
"She cared excessively for her kind. Many of her followers saw her as a dear old caring grandmother. Now, does that sound evil to you? Because to me it sounds like a grandmother wanting what's best for her kind. Trying to cleanse the continent of filthy outsiders of her home. No, Dominia was just a woman that wanted her home back for her people. Evil was never her purpose. She was just a dear old grandmother. Evil isn't crazy. Dominia lost her life because she was a idiot. An idiot. There was at least six different tactics she could have used win the her lands back."
Has the ghost walks around the goblet begins to make voices and images appear in the air of Dominia failure and death.
"Instead she basically insured her own destruction. A liches kill people of out fear. It's not evil it's just cowardice. They are good at making undead but, in the end they lack an end game. A way to achieve their final piece, or execute a last task. Even psychopathic killers like Xlair or Big Fang, they all have some sort of self-indulgent manic need to exert power, but that's not evil. That's just insanity. You see you mistake the act of caring for one's people, as a act of great evil. You find them scary and intimidating. True evil isn't scary, it's not. It's friendly and comforting like a doctor helping a patient end it's suffering."
The goblet switches from showing of Dominia, to death of people. Silent deaths. People losing their mind of the fat nobility too lethargic to move. People falling into traps. Others taking their life do to the actions of others.
"Did it ever occur to you that despite evil stories and childhood that you have no idea what your dealing with. Why would you?. You don't see mercury laced items you make. You just slowly lose you mind. You don't see a pitfall, you just the crash when it happens. And then silence. True evil is invisible, accurate, and driven. For it cannot be stopped for you cannot see it."
The woman's voice interjects from her throne.
"Now again, what have you come looking for: Answers, Power or Salvation? I gave Xlair his salvation and now he sits at my right hand. He gained everything he wanted, as promised. Do you wish for the same?"
Above her head was written 'Witch Queen'. |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
|
| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Nerta's spear levels on the shade, her glittering eyes tracking the every movement while she answers Éowyn.
"This place is cursed. The Pool of Black Whispers is said to be a conduit to the Soul Crusher, the Seductress of Suffering; the Crystal Maiden. But I recognize this thing as well, if only by its taint. The Dread Necromancer of the Sunken Kingdom..."
The bony fingers, melted like wax, curl as the thin voice murmurs.
"Ah the little adventurer of Bessimir. You may call me as you wish, but I am the sound of thunder. I am the crash of waves. I am power."
Those fingers snare a thread black as tar and plucks as though a mandolin. It sees Nerta staggering into Éowyn, and clutch an arm under her cloak.
"Something you have tasted, have you not?"
The surly woman trembles and hisses against the Queen with as that strand is rolled slowly between thumb and pointer. The burning eyes drink in Nerta's pain, tugging the thread tight if she seems to collect herself even for a moment.
"Now now, I asked you a question. Don't be rude..."
All the while the incorporeal voice of the Witch Queen of Silantin toys with Impi.
"Why do you think you came here little one? The dreams that taught you the words of devotion. The sigils painted in the blood of fools. The whispers of the rats. Accept your salvation. The power to save your people. The answers to the questions that gnaw at your heart: You are here because this is where you are meant to be. This is what you are." |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
|
| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Fear grips Éowyn as the true terror of those beings before her overwhelms her. As the misty black tendrils reach to Nerta Éowyn is dumb founded by the sight of it and unable grasp what is going on. As Nerta's pain racked body staggers into Éowyn's own an instinct unknown to her pulls her into motion.
Using a gentle arms to guide Nerta, Éowyn spins both around placing her own body as a shield against the apparition. Coldness and pain grips Éowyn's chest as the tendrils contact he flesh. Body quivering and with head spinning with agony Éowyn turns to face the Dread Necromancer. A cackle of delight resonates through the dreary chamber.
"Your strength is nothing," Crones the Shade, "I can tare your soul from it's body and devour it whole and make your wretched corpse walk to sunken lands on it's knees!"
Quietly at first but gaining strength with every word, "My uncle worship you, emulated your deeds! MY Uncle used ME FOR NECROMANTIC EXPERMINTATION!" Èowyn Shrieks of rage fills the halls as her body begins to shake with rage in spite of the necromantic tendrils licking her flesh. "YOU are not POWER! POWER IS LIFE! You only grant DEATH!"
A momentary pause of silence fills the room as stunned silence is broke by the shade of the Dread Necromancer, "FOOLISH GIRL!" the shade begins to expand in size and the ancient language known only to the few true mages echoes through the chamber.
Blackness blasts out from the Dread Necromancer striking Éowyn squarely in the chest. As the blast hurls Éowyn's body through the air Nerta is knocked from her feet and causes Éowyn's limp form to spin through the air. The sounds of something breaking and gasps of pain escape Éowyn's lips as she smashes her head into floor. Before the rest of her rag dolls onto the floor.
A shimmer of person ripples in the blasts.
"You would interfere shade? That is unwise, your corpus is quite malleable to my power. Perhaps I shall fashion you into something more useful: a knife, a pen..." |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
|
| Roleplay from Impi Wolfvern |
| Message sent to Message to everyone in Wudenkin |
| The Witch Queen laughs her in seat" Hehehe yes attack them!" She reaches out with her one finger to the goblet. "Come serfs, my warriors, my lords and Knights. Come once again and protect your queen from the invaders."
Y𐌴𐍃,𐌼𐌸 𐌵𐌿𐌴𐌴𐌽
y𐌴𐍃, 𐌼𐌸 l𐍉𐍂𐌳
y𐌴𐍃, y𐍉𐌿𐍂 h𐌹𐌲𐌷𐌽𐌴𐍃𐍃
Blue glowing orbs begin swimming about in rapid motion in the goblet. The spin around the edges makes circles pass as if they were racing each other. Then they push over the edge of the goblet. They orbs all go to each their own separate place among the room. Seconds passed before you could see blue eyes now appear in every wall and corner of the them. 8 Rattlers have come alive ordered by the queen. "ATTACK THE FLESHY INVADER GIRL WITH SPEAR MY LOVES. DO NOT LET HER LEAVE."
She then looks at the skeleton body of the being in sitting in Xlair throne. " You my champion will also be needed. As my Champion don't you want to earn your self by killing the one that ruined your kingdom. The one that completely changed it from what you knew it as. Prove yourself me once and kill the one covered be Saint of Orius, Impi Wolfvern, will be your rite to kill to earn your place back"
The eyes sockets the body once blacked not slowly began to glow. The body naked with then clothe had begun to be covered. The shadows that surrounded the room moved to Xlair as if he was sucking the darkness into itself. The void became to form on its bone and made a suit of blacked metal. He slowly started to rise from its seat. As it stood the void made its self into his weapon as well. And long sword formed in his open grasped hand. Then he looks at Impi " For my Queen you must be killed to once again earn her favor. " |
| Impi Wolfvern (Arch Rever of the Saints of Revon) |
|
| Roleplay from Nerta the Weaver |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Freed from the agony by a combination of Éowyn and the Old Man, Nerta springs to her feet, as the Witch Queen summons her court. Skeleton soldiers storm out of the gloom, heavy armour and burnished blades posing far more threat than the workmen of the hall.
"Crystal Cursed! Fighting two necromancers with one hand both literally, and figuratively, behind my back..."
Nerta draws daggers from her brace and uses them to deflect a spear thrust, before spinning around the first soldier and plunging the knife into what would be its neck. The blade slides off armour harmlessly, and a second creature slams her back against the wall with the weight of a kite shield.
"... and against champions. We might need to run Patricians!"
Ducking a black blade, Nerta skitters across the floor and lashes an armoured knee with her foot sending one soldier staggering forward into the spear thrust of a third. It didn't fell the soldier, but it did puncture the ringmail and break bone. These things were strong. From there the dance became a desperate attempt to avoid the blades and reach her own. But the soldiers were not mindless. They moved in silent coordination, blocking her every attempt, and soon they pin the woman against one of the pillars.
Nerta caught a few brief glances of the Old Man as he struggles against the powers of the Dread Necromancer. He seems to flicker and warp, as though a sheet pulled too tight and preparing to rip. But the warrior-priestess could do nothing ringed in steel. The Old Man was in Éowyn's hands now...
Pressed back against the wall, the woman contorts in pain. But as the spears strike home, the cloaked figure crawls up the pillar with a hiss. |
| Nerta the Weaver (Foederati) |
|
| Roleplay from Éowyn Doesire |
| Message sent to Everyone in Wudenkin |
| Cold hard stone pressing upon me. I can not move. I can not see. Noise. Muffled distant noise. Focus on the noise. Scuffling, shouting, something is shaking me. Stone is not on me, I am laying upon the stone.
"You... are... weak..."
Did I say that? Was that my voice?
"If... you... ask... the... power... shall... be... granted... to.... you..."
No not my voice, but a voice in my head. I'm being dragged. Why am I so weak?
I can feel myself blinking. A dim light. Where am I? Torch light? Yes it is torch light. Muffled shouting into my ear... did they say "Queen" That's right I am Queen.. Queen of Thalmarkin.
"You... are... nothing... I... am... your... Emporer..."
Vision blurry... red piercing orbs... staring at me |
| Éowyn Doesire (Queen of Thalmarkin) |
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