Difference between revisions of "Meeting bones - RPLOG"

From Rusted Promises
Jump to: navigation, search
(Auto update)
 
(Auto update)
Line 8: Line 8:
 
24/5/478
 
24/5/478
 
=Log=
 
=Log=
<div></div>
+
<div></div><br> <br>The trip to the manor had been filled with the foreshadowing rain that muddied the roads, and made wet all manner of clothing and gear for those traveling on this grim task. A single wagon had been procured for the group, to ensure that their travel would be swift, there amid the group sat Kalt, ever duitiful to her promise to join Fenris on this task for protection. Thankfully though no bandits had set upon them, and they had steered cleared of the majority of the undead... Leaving their arrival at the front gates the most anxious part of the trip, but there was no dead to greet them this day, only a clear path into the sepulcher, and down into the depths below. &quot;Go on ya lot, I&#39;ll watch the cart an&#39; go makin&#39; sure they don&#39;t try nuttin&#39; from up here.&quot; The Vixen nodding to the group as she leaned against the wagon, weapons in hand before ushering them down into the depths below.
 +
 
 +
The air was tinged with the stale air and scent of the dead, the belongings of the cultists strewn about all over the place for the group to eye... All of it clean, and recent, showing they were not alone. There then, in the Ritual Room, dusted and cleaned of all webbings, sat three hooded alligators in the dim glow of the few lit candles. Swords made of femurs were clenched in their hands, and upon the groups entrance their eyes were turned to them as if expecting them... But yet again, no move was made to strike out at them, the smallest of the group instead speaking with a voice as rough as gravel and as cold as the dead around them. &quot;It&#39;s about time. Have you brought your offerings?&quot;<br> <br>Fenris strides along the dark corridors of the sepulchre. The darkness does not seem to bother him much. The big, fluffy tiger in his minamalist clothing seems calm and centered. He HAS spent most of the day in quiet contemplation, preparing himself for this. There is a faint glow coming from the thin, golden lines of some sort of minimally protective armor he wears. Or maybe that is just the reflection from the small, mathemagical light he carries. The tiger nods to the cultist&#39;s question, though he does not offer any physical evidence of any sort of offering. &quot;We have come for an audience with Pyrrha, the White Lady,&quot; he says, simply.<br> <br>Thelergramor nods at Kalt as she directs them downward, wet from the rain but not seeming to mind. The hooded wolf&#39;s armed, as he tends to be, following after Fenris and eyeing the cultist&#39;s belongings, trying to move quietly. He remains silent as they are addressed, looking over the cultists from beneath his hood, hands near his blades in case they turn hostile.<br> <br>Cassidy stands towards the back of the group in her black and red gown, the white-frilled garment having been kept mostly dry by a hooded cloak kept tightly wrapped. She remains silent for now, content to watch and listen, and speak up if needed.<br> <br>Natska eyes the alligators for a moment, then gives them a faint smile and inclines her head. &quot;Not surprised to find you here,&quot; she murmurs. The jaguar takes a moment to open her belt pouch, and then she extends her hand towards the smallest, offering a piece of bone from the flats - bleached by the sun and scoured clean by wind and sand, then cleaned and polished before their trip here.<br> <br>The smallest pulls his lips back as he looks to Thelergramor. &quot;You&#39;ll keep that sheathed if you are aware of your situation -boy-...&quot; His voice strained, before he falls silent once more and narrows his eyes at Fenris before taking the piece of bleached bone form Natska. His eyes traveling over this part of the offering as he hands it to the larger alligator whom places it upon the &#39;Altar&#39;. &quot;We know your intent tiger, we are not as foolish as you like to accredit us with... Now, is that all you have brought to offer, and will you mind your -hands- before the Mistress?&quot;<br> <br>Fenris tilts his head at the Alligator&#39;s question. &quot;My hands?&quot; he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, &quot;What is THAT supposed to mean?&quot; As he speaks, the tiger produces a beautiful figurine, carved from some sort of bone and encrusted with artfully placed jewels. The figurine depicts a beautiful, female figure wearing a robe and a helmet shaped like the skull of a beast of some kind. It is very beautiful. The tiger gently places his offering on the altar and steps back, keeping his large hands in sight.<br> <br>Thelergramor glares at the guy who called him &#39;boy.&#39; &quot;Pfft...&quot; Shakes his head, muttering grumbling something inaudibly, probably some bravado about not needing a blade. His expression softens before he bears an amused grin at the cultists, unintimidated. He silently watches for now, letting those with more experience speak for the moment.<br> <br>Cassidy brings up a gloved hand, turning it palm-up and opening her hand. A single, pale pearl rests in the center of her hand. &quot;My offering,&quot; she says plainly before falling quiet again, keeping her arm outstretched until the object is taken.<br> <br>Natska simply brings her hands together in front of herself as she listens, her ear flicking once. She remains calm and collected as Fenris banters with the alligators, and wonders just what is going to happen this time.<br> <br>&quot;Better, far better.&quot; The smaller alligator speaks as he first eyes Fenris&#39; gift, then Cassidy&#39;s as the larger alligator retrieves it to place it with the others. &quot;You wanted to speak with our lady, and you shall.&quot; The younger alligator rising as he turns to the alter, his voice hushed and low as he speaks. &quot;Mistress Pyrrha, our beloved lady, we bring these outsiders to you this day... They have brought with themselves, the gifts placed before you. Gifts that we wish you find worthy enough to grace us with your presence! Mistress Pyrrah, our Queen of Death, we call upon you as your humble servants!&quot;
 +
 
 +
The room falls silent as the Alligator finishes his words, a loud crack finally breaking the oppressive silence as bones clatter around them and a shadow forms near the &#39;alter&#39;. A skeletal Serpent emerges soon from the shadows, her steps slow and careful as she walks forward and falls to her knees before the alter... If she had skin, one would assume the presence of a grin on her features as her clean, and immaculate bone fingers reach out to pick up each offering, examining it in turn before holding up the ornate statue to her face as she speaks with a voice cold enough to chill the blood of demons themselves. &quot;These gifts... Are acceptable my beloved children~&quot; The three Alligators are quick to fall to their knees as she speaks, pressing their foreheads to the ground so as to not obstruct her view as those hollow eye sockets fall upon the group. &quot;Did you bring these then~? Such lovely gifts from my admirers~ Though, I remember faces here... Faces that were so smug a---&quot; She catches herself as her voice begins to rise, cutting it off with a clearing of her hollow throat as she stands and begins to walk around the sarcophagus altar. &quot;Well, errand children sent by my brothers and... Oh, one I have not seen for such a long time~&quot;<br> <br>Fenris slowly and deliberately kneels before the skeletal apparition, bowing low as if he were a visitor in one of the fine courts of the Jadelands. &quot;Greetings, White Lady,&quot; Fenris says his courtesy genuine, &quot;We are grateful that you would grant us audience. We come to ask your favor and your aid in our fight against the Craige.&quot;

Revision as of 04:12, 25 May 2015

Participants

Date

24/5/478

Log



The trip to the manor had been filled with the foreshadowing rain that muddied the roads, and made wet all manner of clothing and gear for those traveling on this grim task. A single wagon had been procured for the group, to ensure that their travel would be swift, there amid the group sat Kalt, ever duitiful to her promise to join Fenris on this task for protection. Thankfully though no bandits had set upon them, and they had steered cleared of the majority of the undead... Leaving their arrival at the front gates the most anxious part of the trip, but there was no dead to greet them this day, only a clear path into the sepulcher, and down into the depths below. "Go on ya lot, I'll watch the cart an' go makin' sure they don't try nuttin' from up here." The Vixen nodding to the group as she leaned against the wagon, weapons in hand before ushering them down into the depths below.

The air was tinged with the stale air and scent of the dead, the belongings of the cultists strewn about all over the place for the group to eye... All of it clean, and recent, showing they were not alone. There then, in the Ritual Room, dusted and cleaned of all webbings, sat three hooded alligators in the dim glow of the few lit candles. Swords made of femurs were clenched in their hands, and upon the groups entrance their eyes were turned to them as if expecting them... But yet again, no move was made to strike out at them, the smallest of the group instead speaking with a voice as rough as gravel and as cold as the dead around them. "It's about time. Have you brought your offerings?"

Fenris strides along the dark corridors of the sepulchre. The darkness does not seem to bother him much. The big, fluffy tiger in his minamalist clothing seems calm and centered. He HAS spent most of the day in quiet contemplation, preparing himself for this. There is a faint glow coming from the thin, golden lines of some sort of minimally protective armor he wears. Or maybe that is just the reflection from the small, mathemagical light he carries. The tiger nods to the cultist's question, though he does not offer any physical evidence of any sort of offering. "We have come for an audience with Pyrrha, the White Lady," he says, simply.

Thelergramor nods at Kalt as she directs them downward, wet from the rain but not seeming to mind. The hooded wolf's armed, as he tends to be, following after Fenris and eyeing the cultist's belongings, trying to move quietly. He remains silent as they are addressed, looking over the cultists from beneath his hood, hands near his blades in case they turn hostile.

Cassidy stands towards the back of the group in her black and red gown, the white-frilled garment having been kept mostly dry by a hooded cloak kept tightly wrapped. She remains silent for now, content to watch and listen, and speak up if needed.

Natska eyes the alligators for a moment, then gives them a faint smile and inclines her head. "Not surprised to find you here," she murmurs. The jaguar takes a moment to open her belt pouch, and then she extends her hand towards the smallest, offering a piece of bone from the flats - bleached by the sun and scoured clean by wind and sand, then cleaned and polished before their trip here.

The smallest pulls his lips back as he looks to Thelergramor. "You'll keep that sheathed if you are aware of your situation -boy-..." His voice strained, before he falls silent once more and narrows his eyes at Fenris before taking the piece of bleached bone form Natska. His eyes traveling over this part of the offering as he hands it to the larger alligator whom places it upon the 'Altar'. "We know your intent tiger, we are not as foolish as you like to accredit us with... Now, is that all you have brought to offer, and will you mind your -hands- before the Mistress?"

Fenris tilts his head at the Alligator's question. "My hands?" he asks, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "What is THAT supposed to mean?" As he speaks, the tiger produces a beautiful figurine, carved from some sort of bone and encrusted with artfully placed jewels. The figurine depicts a beautiful, female figure wearing a robe and a helmet shaped like the skull of a beast of some kind. It is very beautiful. The tiger gently places his offering on the altar and steps back, keeping his large hands in sight.

Thelergramor glares at the guy who called him 'boy.' "Pfft..." Shakes his head, muttering grumbling something inaudibly, probably some bravado about not needing a blade. His expression softens before he bears an amused grin at the cultists, unintimidated. He silently watches for now, letting those with more experience speak for the moment.

Cassidy brings up a gloved hand, turning it palm-up and opening her hand. A single, pale pearl rests in the center of her hand. "My offering," she says plainly before falling quiet again, keeping her arm outstretched until the object is taken.

Natska simply brings her hands together in front of herself as she listens, her ear flicking once. She remains calm and collected as Fenris banters with the alligators, and wonders just what is going to happen this time.

"Better, far better." The smaller alligator speaks as he first eyes Fenris' gift, then Cassidy's as the larger alligator retrieves it to place it with the others. "You wanted to speak with our lady, and you shall." The younger alligator rising as he turns to the alter, his voice hushed and low as he speaks. "Mistress Pyrrha, our beloved lady, we bring these outsiders to you this day... They have brought with themselves, the gifts placed before you. Gifts that we wish you find worthy enough to grace us with your presence! Mistress Pyrrah, our Queen of Death, we call upon you as your humble servants!"

The room falls silent as the Alligator finishes his words, a loud crack finally breaking the oppressive silence as bones clatter around them and a shadow forms near the 'alter'. A skeletal Serpent emerges soon from the shadows, her steps slow and careful as she walks forward and falls to her knees before the alter... If she had skin, one would assume the presence of a grin on her features as her clean, and immaculate bone fingers reach out to pick up each offering, examining it in turn before holding up the ornate statue to her face as she speaks with a voice cold enough to chill the blood of demons themselves. "These gifts... Are acceptable my beloved children~" The three Alligators are quick to fall to their knees as she speaks, pressing their foreheads to the ground so as to not obstruct her view as those hollow eye sockets fall upon the group. "Did you bring these then~? Such lovely gifts from my admirers~ Though, I remember faces here... Faces that were so smug a---" She catches herself as her voice begins to rise, cutting it off with a clearing of her hollow throat as she stands and begins to walk around the sarcophagus altar. "Well, errand children sent by my brothers and... Oh, one I have not seen for such a long time~"

Fenris slowly and deliberately kneels before the skeletal apparition, bowing low as if he were a visitor in one of the fine courts of the Jadelands. "Greetings, White Lady," Fenris says his courtesy genuine, "We are grateful that you would grant us audience. We come to ask your favor and your aid in our fight against the Craige."