Again I ask - the purpose of this artifact? Did it keep the undead at bay, or was it guarded by them? We can both be assholes all day and I wager I'll win.... but we won't get very far will we? You can also act like you can manage on your own, but then you wouldn't have shown at Wistvale.
It's past my bedtime so speak up or I'll be on my way.
The item kept a different evil sealed away, the item was stolen, the evil was awakened. Simple enough? The only reason my sister and I even showed up at that filth ridden hovel is that man in the tavern was behind the operation. There were six, we are missing three. Either they are alive and have fled....or they lurk the forests.
The elf earlier revealed as Zulin re-appeared as Thaylinus finished his explanation.
Commander, we found one of the bodies. One of the druids conjured it's spirit and we have gathered information. The others re-animated and were lured back to the crypt. One of them was carrying the relic.
Simeon was just as irritated--or at least felt as irritated as Grayell. One would think that the elves could handle their own problems. Then he countered his own thought, Come to think of it, hey never asked for our help in the first place. Perhaps, if the elves retrieve that artifact, both the elves and the undead will leave this area.
Suddenly something that Simeon heard brought him to full attention. "Wait, who conjured who's spirit? And did you say the dead merchannn--I mean, crypt thieves--reanimated?
Thaylinus eyed the monk. He walked over to him standing square with him.
You have things confused monk. One of the thieves was found dead, our druids conjured the spirit of the dead man and garnered the required information we needed. The other two were re-animated most likely due to their proximity of the relic. Since they heed the call of a greater force, the crypt is where they are headed.
Thaylinus called out several names and as soon as they were called a dozen or so dark mist-like forms appeared and solidified into their elven forms. He commanded them in their language, and they dissipated. Thaylinus reached into his cloak and produced a fang of some sorts. He called out a name and the fang began to emit an eerie dark aura. A dark shadow appeared on the ground in front of the Elf, dark energy swirling into the form of a beast. Once it was formed the spectral cat paced in front of it's master, it's body seemed to be made of the darkness it came from, no solidity, it's eyes were glowing a pale white light.
She will guide you to the crypt, follow her close. If there are any undead her presence alone will keep them at bay, I will be waiting.
With that he vanished into the darkness. The spectral cat sitting in front of the adventurers, it's wispy tail whipping about.
Alec [M:118:6:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=412&page=1#1242]"I see," said the blind man to the deaf lady.[0:Wandering the stacks.][1:Present and accounted for.]
"Well," Alec says, "we are dealing with undead. In theory, their main goal, depending on the controlling force behind them, are to create more." He crosses his arms, and looks straight up, stretching his neck. "Usually, that simply means killing more people, and the force animates them. It would seem that is the case now."
Come in under the shadow of this red rock, and I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning, striding behind you, or your shadow at evening, rising to meet you. I shall show you fear in a handful of dust.
The spectral cat bounded off, weaving in and out of the trees, the only thing giving away it's location was it's glowing eyes. After a few short minutes the group stands in front of a dilapidated crypt.
Thaylinus waited in front with a bag.
I am forbidden to enter by the laws of the Druids, only they may enter this place. You have been given permission since my sister had said you were aiding. I have a bag of supplies, a few torches and tinder and flint to light them.
He handed Grayell the satchel.
I wish you luck, even though our alliance, if you will call it that has not been the best, I pray you do not die.
Thaylinus melded back into the shadows of the night, though he was no longer visible, his presence could still be lightly felt lingering in the air.
Simeon took a step back. Horror washed over his face. "By all that is holy!" He looked at each of his companions then back at the shadowy pitch beast in front of them. "What manner of forgotten magic is this? Surely something that was meant to remain forgotten..."
Nonetheless, he followed.
When the elf arrived and left them a second time he responded, "I also pray that we do not die.
Last Edit: Aug 13, 2011 17:45:18 GMT -5 by Legault
Was_Abi
Formerly Simeon, Makaio, Matta Swifoot V, Matthew
Alec [M:118:6:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=412&page=1#1242]"I see," said the blind man to the deaf lady.[0:Wandering the stacks.][1:Present and accounted for.]
"Old magic, certainly." He looks at Simeon. "But knowledge is sacred. No magic is meant to be forgotten, and forgotten magics exist to be learned again." He looks at the entrance to the crypt. "That said, this form of magic is not meant to run rampant. Into the dark then, shall we?"
Come in under the shadow of this red rock, and I will show you something different from either your shadow at morning, striding behind you, or your shadow at evening, rising to meet you. I shall show you fear in a handful of dust.
Grayell shrugged as he pulled dumped the sack onto the ground and took up the flint and tinder. He shoved one torch aside with his foot and then straddled it. He rested the flint by his foot.
Damn it I need a knife.
[/i] Grayell pawed the tinder, ran it through his fingers, He smelled it and frowned. Eyes scanned the area before he rose to his feet.[/i]
Bloody elves. Tinder is crap.
Grayell approached an old, rotted tree and reached up; pulling grey, hairy moss that hung there like a balding old man. He smiled and then returned to his torch.
His blade was rather large but the back of it cut a perfect 90 degree edge. He held it above his preferred tinder and stuck it once, naught but a couple of minor sparks. Again, nothing. The third time, a bright spark fell into the moss and glowed there, the birth of an ember. He picked it up tenderly, let it breathe and then folded the moss over the tiny glowing ember. His breath was soft, then more forceful with each breath until.....
Fire. He grabbed his torch and lit it promptly. He rolled it until the end of it was burning nicely and then tossed a torch to the other two.
We use two. We stick together. No need to burn through the reserve until we have to. Light that puppy up and come let's go. Someone grab the others and the sack please.
Simeon admired a man who had the survival skills that Grayell had. It was a testament to his experience. Although, for some problems there is a simpler situation. As he reached down to pick the remaining supplies he said, "Grell, perhaps it would save a bit of time and effort, if we lit this torch using the one you're already holding."
The gate leading to the depths of the crypt clangs softly against the stone from the wind, producing a dull ring. The darkness inside seems foreboding, and desolate. Inside the sounds of shuffling footsteps could be heard slowly moving away.
Simeon hesitated, then handed the bag to her. It made sense, he realized, she would need both hands free to operate her bow. She would be able to sling the satchel over her shoulder and still have both hands free. Yet...
"Are you sure you want to carry the bag? I mean no offense to your skill with a bow, but wouldn't that throw off your shots? I could carry both the bag and the torch, or I'm sure Alec wouldn't mind carrying something."
Part of Simeon only wanted to speak so the silence would be broken. Of course, the other part was simply the chivalry he had been taught during his life at the monastery and before.