• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Chapter Fourteen: Stoking the Fires of Preparation

Status
Not open for further replies.
The proprietor quickly and quietly turned back to Brendoran, eager to see his reaction.
There was such a theatricality about the whole scene that Bren couldn't help but clap, as he would for a particularly good bit in a play, a delighted smile spread over his face.

"You are Felane, the mighty children of Bountiful Bastet and the born slayers of Set's wretched Yuan-Ti who ravage the land and rivers. May the Light of Ra radiate upon you always. Please allow me to kiss your sabatons."

As Powerpaw and Bria approached, Obba reached toward Bren's feet to do just that.
Some noble houses of Summerset were accustomed to such fawning; some even insisted on it. Sarabina belonged to neither of those groups, even had Bren felt he merited it in the current case, which he certainly did not. "No, please," he said, kindly but firmly. "You are under a misapprehension, good sir. Though all of us are under Bast's blessing, only one is truly of the Felane." He hurriedly gestured for Powerpaw to join him. "I am myself devoted to the goddess Mielikki, who is perhaps unknown to you as yet, though I honor Bast and her followers as I may, and Bast has seen fit to, ah, alter our forms somewhat on our current journey."
 

Location: Bren is about 20 feet nearer the Dungeons of Castle Anguish.
Time/Date: Unknown. Last you knew it was mid-afternoon, Monday, 22nd September in the year 1118. Maybe now it's Tuesday?
Weather: Still snowy with that strange cursed-evil-Loviatar-brand-of-Pohjolan-snow. Stay inside because it sure is not getting any better out there. =)

It took the proprietor to snap out of his daze, see what was happening, approach the prostrated Obba, and calmly kneel down and tap the young-sounding man on the shoulder. Obba looked up. The proprietor indicated Brendoran, shook his head, and bade Obba rise. Obba obeyed without hesitation but with plenty of shyness. The proprietor then held out his hands and tilted his head in question. His servant replied.

"The Felane are from Rhumia, Master. You will find them from nowhere else. They are hunters and guardians. Glorious Bastet is fickle but fair to those whom have pleased her. These people are Averlundian, like you, Master! I can tell by the way they speak!" It was true that Obba's accent was not one that Nivirea, Luna, Oreleth, or Otiorin recognized. Obba's voice was rich and deep, his manners precise and well-practiced. He kept close eye-contact and squared shoulders to whomever he spoke with, including now with the proprietor who, with one hand on the tall lad's shoulder, gestured to Nivirea and nodded.

While they communicated, Powerpaw stomped up beside Bren in the showy manner of a gladiator and turned to his leader. "Hay Bren! See dat skinny human wif da long straight fur wearin' da gold an' black robes?" He indicated another servant who had not yet spoken. "She'z from Rhumia too or I iz a dog." Upon stating this, the young-looking woman clasped her hands and bowed immediately to all of you. Upon closer inspection, the portly man and the other servant who spoke with Obba seemed Averlundian.

Obba then returned to Nivirea and indicated that she should face the proprietor though it was Obba speaking. "Beautiful One, the Master wishes to congratulate you on your addressing him by his name on the first try. You have pleased the Master, for no one here in all of Pohjola seems to know who he is, save for the vile one who put us here." The proprietor briefly but fiercely shook his fist at the sky as Obba spoke. Then Obba turned to him. The proprietor made several hand gestures which included all of you in its movements.

"The Master is delighted to meet you, but it is true that you have him at a disadvantage. Who are you, honored adventurers, and how might we record your names for our travels?"

As this took place, Oreleth saw that the tables were neatly-arranged with all manner of adventuring gear and tools. She could swear they were polished, sharpened, or otherwise well-taken care of. They appeared made of solid-quality resources making for trustworthy gear. Being herself from a merchant's family, she knew well the signs merchants used to make something look better than it was or arrange something in a way to hide flaws. So far, she saw no such nonsense here, but she would not know for certain until she approached the tables and handled the gear for herself (it was the only way to know for certain).


Quoti+can+pay+peasant+skeletons+to+fight+for+me+because+_402a1241afa132a733bd40cf358ed7d0.jpg
(Image credit: www.erikronnblom.com)
GAME DETAILS Location: Near the Dungeons of Castle Anguish
Mode: Exploration
Click Blue Box for Ambiance =)
"D&D Ambiance - Dark, Dank Cave" by Sword Coast Soundscapes


 
Last edited:
The elven archer takes a few steps to get closer, and as she does so, she offers up a polite bow. "I am Oreleth Soumral, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance." With a critical eye, she begins to look over the weapons and items displayed out before them.
 
Luna also approaches the tables, and offers up a curtsey. "Greetings. I am Luna Callen. I am also pleased to meet you, and I'm quite glad that you are not a hostile opponent! So, lets see what goods you have for sale!"
 
Otiorin Taletreader

As the bone pile erupted, Otiorin instinctively drew Bria behind him with his left hand while his right crossed his body to close around the hilt of the Sunfire Blade. Though such defensive actions were unnecessary as the imposing frame of Powerpaw firmly placed itself between the both of them and any threat that rose from the charnel heap. Peering from behind the true Felane's mighty torso, Otiorin was at once startled and charmed by the appearance of the dapper skeleton, his phantasmal entourage and the stalls they constructed.
Satisfied that the figures before them meant no harm to the Wayward Wanderers (the same could not be said of their intent toward the Wanderers' purses), he released Bria and stepped from behind Powerpaw.

As Nivirea offered a name to complement the signage that hovered in the air and the skeleton reacted in what could only be called joyous recognition, a heavy weight struck Otiorin's heart. It got heavier as the servile Obba related, at least in part, the fact that they too had been trapped here in this dark and icy realm.
"I am Otiorin Taletreader, scion of Waterwind. Am I given to believe that you also have been cursed to be trapped in this accursed realm? What events transpired to bring you here and how long have you been imprisoned in this place?"
 
Last edited:
.:|Nivirea - The (Felane) Sorceress |:.

Nivirea looked like she was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it when Otiorin stepped forward with his questions.
 
Powerpaw stomped up beside Bren in the showy manner of a gladiator and turned to his leader. "Hay Bren! See dat skinny human wif da long straight fur wearin' da gold an' black robes?" He indicated another servant who had not yet spoken. "She'z from Rhumia too or I iz a dog." Upon stating this, the young-looking woman clasped her hands and bowed immediately to all of you.
Bren nodded in acknowledgment of Powerpaw's statement, but things were getting rather busy and he didn't have time for more than that.

"The Master is delighted to meet you, but it is true that you have him at a disadvantage. Who are you, honored adventurers, and how might we record your names for our travels?"
Bren bowed and introduced himself. "I am Brendoran Sarabina, Paladin of Mielikki, originally from Summerset in Averlund." He gestured with one arm to include the whole party. "Our adventuring party is called the Wayward Wanderers." He nodded once more at Otiorin's questions, for he too wanted to know. Perhaps there was something they could do to help these people too, just as they'd helped SkySting.
 

Location: Bren is about 20 feet nearer the Dungeons of Castle Anguish.
Time/Date: Unknown. Last you knew it was mid-afternoon, Monday, 22nd September in the year 1118. Maybe now it's Tuesday?
Weather: Still snowy with that strange cursed-evil-Loviatar-brand-of-Pohjolan-snow. Stay inside because it sure is not getting any better out there. =)

(Part 1 of 2)

The Wayward Wanderers who approach the Varelys Trading Station are met with a vast array of quality goods.

The wide, sturdy table marked "Hardy Armor" displays a number of well-kept or repaired armor and shields of nearly every type. Choose from any armor type available in the Equipment section out of the Core Book (so basic armors from padded to full-plate mail are here). Some are masterwork.

The racks and stands for "Reliable Weapons" covers every weapon in the Equipment section in the Core Book. Some are masterwork.

The round table marked "Fine Gear" contains all manner of adventuring gear from light sources to tents to, well, everything on this page with the exception of food and drink.

The "Odds & Ends" table is the smallest of them all. Strangely-wrapped bits of paper, like miniature scrolls line the table - six in all, each with a price tag of 10 gold pieces but with no details as to what is written inside except for a small sign that reads, "Recovered from the Dungeons! - 10 gold pieces per clue!"

At the proprietor's quiet direction, two servants open a chest and begin to tastefully set up four rows of glass-filled sorcery - potions! All are arranged in bottles of colorful and attractive hues; the stoppered bottles are tied to the neck and appear resilient to breakage. However, most of you have no idea where they make bottles where the glass curls and twists. It would be a shame to toss aside the bottle once its contents were used.

1st row of potions - these potions act as 0-level Orisons/Cantrips.
8 Potions of Light - they really are just tiny bottles filled with liquid-light; each has a peaceful, soft radiance of that brings out the detail in many objects. There are 2 blue, 2 green, 2 yellow, and 2 red. - 50 g.p.
3 Potions of Purify Food and Drink - Restores elapsed consumables to a fresh state. Adds a touch of roasted garlic flavor from the potion. - 50 g.p.
1 Potion of Hide from Undead - Undead cannot perceive the subject (intelligent undead get a Will Saving Throw).

2nd row these potions act as 1st level spells.
3 Potions of Cure Wounds - instantly heals 1d8+5 damage - 100 g.p.
2 Potions of Comprehend Languages - you understand spoken and written languages - lasts 50 minutes - 100 g.p.
1 Potion of Detect Secret Doors - Reveals hidden doors within 60 feet.; duration is Concentration/up to 5 minutes - 100 g.p.
2 Potions of Remove Paralysis - Frees creature from paralysis or slow effect. - 100 g.p.

3rd row - these potions act as 2nd level spells.
1 Potion of Arcane Lock - Magically locks a portal or chest (permanently unless broken) - 300 g.p.
1 Potion of Cure Wounds - instantly heals 2d8+10 damage - 300 g.p.
4 Potion of Resist Energy: Fire (Damage Reduction versus all manner of heat and flames 10 for 100 minutes) - 300 g.p.
3 Potions of Gust of Wind - Blows away or knocks down smaller creatures (you drink then exhale the gust) - 300 g.p.

4th row - these potions act as 3rd level spells.
3 Potions of Cure Wounds (3rd level - heals 3d8+15 damage) - 750 g.p.
2 Potions of Glyph of Warding - Inscription harms those who pass it (except in this case, you pour the inscription) - 750 g.p.
1 Potion of Rage - GIves +4 to Strength and Constitution, +1 to Will Saving Throws, and -2 to Armor Class. Duration is Concentration up to 15 rounds (90 seconds). - 750 g.p.
Oil of Keen Edge/Blunt Trauma - doubles normal weapon's threat range (be it edged or dull) for 150 minutes.

* * *​

Obba explained at his master's behest. "To be true, we do not know how long it has been since we were put here! Time passes like a dream and we who are between life and death do not age but suffer greatly! Put briefly, we sold wares to the Church of Boccob and his enlightened followers in Averlund. The jealous worshippers of Loviatar found out and She herself cursed us to sell our wares here in Pohjola - forever! Our master cannot speak without his true jawbone," the proprietor wiggled the jawbone under his skull to show that it did not fit, "and we cannot leave here unless he can speak again. Loviatar's tormentor knocked it out of his mouth and threw it here in this great pool of bones. Every night we dig and every night we try to see if one fits, but..." Obba sniffed. "The tormentor laughs at us endlessly!" Obba moaned softly and looked up. "Oh, to see the naked golden sun once again..."

The proprietor rested his hand upon Obba's shoulder and lowered his head for a moment. When he rose again, he opened his skeletal hand to Otiorin, Nivirea, and Brendoran as if to welcome you again. The Fortune Teller rose into his hand and his cane rejoined the other.

"But do not worry yourselves. You are here for some great quest, no? The Master wants you to know that none of our items are cursed as we are, but it is in your best interests of survival to purchase something, for the road ahead is deadly indeed! Your future is not as certain as ours!"

Both the master and Obba looked up to the winding "staircase" that ran around and rose among the circular walls around you. How high it went, none of you could tell. It disappeared into a sunless darkness.


Quoti+can+pay+peasant+skeletons+to+fight+for+me+because+_402a1241afa132a733bd40cf358ed7d0.jpg
(Image credit: www.erikronnblom.com)
GAME DETAILS Location: Near the Dungeons of Castle Anguish
Mode: Exploration
Click Blue Box for Ambiance =)
"D&D Ambiance - Dark, Dank Cave" by Sword Coast Soundscapes


 
Last edited:
(Part 3 of 3 - because I forgot a few items of note! =) ).

1. There is a sign by the "Hardy Armor" table that reads, "If you are smoking, you had better be on fire!"

2. There is another sign over the "Fine Gear" table that reads, "If you BROKE it, you BOUGHT it!" =)

3. Here is the tag for Cap'n that I forgot - Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus =)

3. Finally, Wolf Rawrrr Wolf Rawrrr . The proprietor politely tapped Obba, pointed a bony finger at himself, gestured toward the trading sign, then pleasantly indicated Nivirea. Obba followed these motions and with impeccable manners of a realm Nivirea had hardly heard of much less been to, Obba requested. "The master wishes to know - how do you know of him? In all this time, you alone have called him by name!"

Beside Otiorin, Bria gave a humble grin as if she had her own theory, one she appeared confident of. The Fuzzy Goof on the other hand was far too caught up in the bones and the state of the group. "You'd tink we wuz in Rhumia fer alla da cursin' goin' on!"
 

This, but with blue eyes
full

Credit: gugu-troll - Professional, Digital Artist | DeviantArt

Bren glanced at the others, wondering if they've had the same thought he'd had or if the wares on the tables had their more immediate attention. "Surely," he said out loud, "the more who search, the more likely it is that the missing bone will be found? Our current quest is to free ourselves from Loviatar's curse, but I don't see why we can't free our fellow sufferers along the way, as we've already done once. It's almost a duty, isn't it? For me, at least. And it would be another poke in her eye for having sent us here in the first place!"
 
Otiorin Taletreader

The Half-elf-turned-Felane nodded his sable black head.
"You have my vote. A jawbone is an unusual enough shape that we couldn't miss one if we saw it. All we do is fish around, starting at one side and work our way to the other. We gather up all the jawbones we find and Master Varelys tries them for fit as he pleases."
 
.:|Nivirea Varelys - The Sorceress |:.

Nivirea looked to Obba and the proprietor with somewhat of a grave expression on her face. "How could I not?" she said, then took a deep, slow breath and finally willed herself to dispel her Felane form, even knowing it was a one-way process. As soon as it was done, she reached to touch her hair and face, as if looking for reassurance that she was back to her old self again.

"I am Nivirea Varelys, daughter of Marcus Varelys," she introduced herself. Both to Barathus and the Wayward Wanderers (properly).
 
Oreleth nods. "With all of us working together, we should be able to make this happen. After all, we already helped out SkySting; it would not be right for us to not at least try."
 
Luna looks down at the pile of bones and starts thinking. "If we remove all the bones that are not the jaw and toss them aside, it will make finding the one bone we are looking for easier. Now, is there anything distinctive about the one we are looking for? Do you know if it is in one piece, or has it been broken down into bits?"
 
As the Wayward Wanderers planned and plotted the way to free the suffering of the merchants, each of them made some motion or another that displayed appreciation, but also flat, honest doubt. A young-sounding woman from behind a counter said in a sad voice, "You are all so very kind, noble too, to think of us chained in our misery as you do. But every plan you mention we have performed before. Every night we search, every day comes and we fail. We have searched every single bone in this deathly collection a hundred times or more! And still, every night, we keep searching." She nodded to Luna. "Yes, the jawbone is in one piece - the tormentor has promised us it remains unbroken - and yet, when he comes to visit and make his demands..." The young lady covered her face and made sniffling sounds.

Bria freely crossed the distance between them and rested her hands on the woman's as fearlessly and surely as if the merchant were flesh and blood. "He must be terrible. Keep hope! Ricci, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes," Ricci smiled faintly. "But when the tormentor comes, you must be far from here. Loviatar... chose him well." Ricci gulped and remembered things she wished she could forget.

* * *​

Tall, proper Obba was nearly pulled off his feet as the proprietor pointed excitedly at Nivirea. Nivirea's transformation from her incredible blessing back into the body of her birth had thrown the master into a tizzy. He listened to every word of Nivirea's as if each were solid gold. He pondered, paced, raised his hands at the heavens in either ecstatic triumph or heartbreaking despair - you could not tell which. He took rapid steps toward the fey-blooded sorceress, but paused before he reached her. His very presence was cold, lifeless, and yet there was life inside those aged bones. The sad undead thing that was once Lord Barathus Eliminus Varelys slowly, achingly, gazed at Nivirea's flesh-filled fey features. The sorceress had been a striking beauty since the day she was born and time had only added more to admire, but the old lord seemed more lost by the moment. He reached out one bony-fingered hand toward Nivirea's face. The hand shook as did the heart that guided it. And then...

...Lord Barathus snatched his hand back. He stamped about, smacking his cane. The towering frustration in his ranting movements was clear to all. Once again, Obba of Rhumia watched calmly, understood, and shared with you.

"The master..." Obba's deep, rich voice carried through the cavern. "The master sees you as you are, your starlike beauty and undeniable majesty is clear, but..." Obba's frown matched his master's as he gasped, "...he has no knowledge of a Nivirea nor of a Marcus Varelys! Please forgive us, Nivirea of Averlund. As much as we wish differently, you are... unknown to him!"
 
Oreleth frowns. "You mentioned a Tormentor. Who or what is this? If I were the one to place such a curse on someone, I would not wish to keep the means of your escape easily acquired. I hazard a guess that this tormentor has the jawbone on him - or it, depending on what it is."
 
Luna looks at the helpers with curiosity. "Yes, what is this tormentor, and how often does it come around? It might be a good idea to try and set up an ambush to stop it and free another one of Loviatar's prisoners."
 

Location: Bren is about 20 feet nearer the Dungeons of Castle Anguish.
Time/Date: Unknown. Last you knew it was mid-afternoon, Monday, 22nd September in the year 1118. Maybe now it's Tuesday?
Weather: Still snowy with that strange cursed-evil-Loviatar-brand-of-Pohjolan-snow. Stay inside because it sure is not getting any better out there. =)

(Recap of information for you.)

The wide, sturdy table marked "Hardy Armor" displays a number of well-kept or repaired armor and shields of nearly every type. Choose from any armor type available in the Equipment section out of the Core Book (so basic armors from padded to full-plate mail are here). Some are masterwork.

The racks and stands for "Reliable Weapons" covers every weapon in the Equipment section in the Core Book. Some are masterwork.

The round table marked "Fine Gear" contains all manner of adventuring gear from light sources to tents to, well, everything on this page with the exception of food and drink.

The "Odds & Ends" table is the smallest of them all. Strangely-wrapped bits of paper, like miniature scrolls line the table - six in all, each with a price tag of 10 gold pieces but with no details as to what is written inside except for a small sign that reads, "Recovered from the Dungeons! - 10 gold pieces per clue!"

Potions at the Odds and Ends Table
1st row of potions - these potions act as 0-level Orisons/Cantrips.
8 Potions of Light - they really are just tiny bottles filled with liquid-light; each has a peaceful, soft radiance of that brings out the detail in many objects. There are 2 blue, 2 green, 2 yellow, and 2 red. - 50 g.p.
3 Potions of Purify Food and Drink - Restores elapsed consumables to a fresh state. Adds a touch of roasted garlic flavor from the potion. - 50 g.p.
1 Potion of Hide from Undead - Undead cannot perceive the subject (intelligent undead get a Will Saving Throw).

2nd row these potions act as 1st level spells.
3 Potions of Cure Wounds - instantly heals 1d8+5 damage - 100 g.p.
2 Potions of Comprehend Languages - you understand spoken and written languages - lasts 50 minutes - 100 g.p.
1 Potion of Detect Secret Doors - Reveals hidden doors within 60 feet.; duration is Concentration/up to 5 minutes - 100 g.p.
2 Potions of Remove Paralysis - Frees creature from paralysis or slow effect. - 100 g.p.

3rd row - these potions act as 2nd level spells.
1 Potion of Arcane Lock - Magically locks a portal or chest (permanently unless broken) - 300 g.p.
1 Potion of Cure Wounds - instantly heals 2d8+10 damage - 300 g.p.
4 Potion of Resist Energy: Fire (Damage Reduction versus all manner of heat and flames 10 for 100 minutes) - 300 g.p.
3 Potions of Gust of Wind - Blows away or knocks down smaller creatures (you drink then exhale the gust) - 300 g.p.

4th row - these potions act as 3rd level spells.
3 Potions of Cure Wounds (3rd level - heals 3d8+15 damage) - 750 g.p.
2 Potions of Glyph of Warding - Inscription harms those who pass it (except in this case, you pour the inscription) - 750 g.p.
1 Potion of Rage - GIves +4 to Strength and Constitution, +1 to Will Saving Throws, and -2 to Armor Class. Duration is Concentration up to 15 rounds (90 seconds). - 750 g.p.
Oil of Keen Edge/Blunt Trauma - doubles normal weapon's threat range (be it edged or dull) for 150 minutes.

* * *​
Captain Hesperus Captain Hesperus (Tag!)

The proprietor pointed toward a blank wall and eagerly motioned to Obba to explain. This the young-sounding fellow did despite his horrid and deathly countenance. "Loviatar's latest incarnation of cruelty comes along for us every night at his whim. Then we perform the task of searching through the bones as he watches. It is miserable work. He chides us and makes terrible demands. He is beyond our means to defeat. You should not place yourselves in such danger." The proprietor seemed to agree.

Bria touched her paw to her lip. As ever, she spoke softly and with nothing but goodness. "Forgive us, for we are strangers, but that's what we do! We are the Wayward Wanderers. We help wherever we can."

But Obba looked doubtful. He cast his skeletal glance at the bones. "There before you lie many who sought to plunder the dungeons after the Wizards warred and faded from memory. Some of the items upon our tables come pulled from their corpses. The tormentor makes us do this ghastly work in order for him to make--"

A creaking and squealing sound from the blank wall where the proprietor had indicated. It sounded like a large door gone too long without oil on its hinges. Suddenly, the wall behind the trading station began to shudder - a secret door was slowly opening! The proprietor jumped in surprise and raised his hands in alarm. Hurriedly, he pointed at you and back down the cavern. His servants, as if long-used to doing so half-rushed, half-stumbled to their tables if they left them.

Obba pleaded with you. "The tormentor! The tormenter comes! Hurry! You must flee back whence you came lest you are seen!"

"Flea?" Powerpaw snarled, his white and black fur bristling. "I ain't fleein' from nuthin'! I say we pound dis guy's face in the moment we sees him!"

But Bria tugged on his muscular arm. "We don't even know what the tormentor is yet! We must learn and plan or the traders could pay dearly if we lose!"

As the secret door trembled to open inch by inch, Oscar climbed with the healer's aid upon Bria's backpack in preparation for either move. "Your fellowship has chosen a leader! Let us hear from him!" Many eyes with many expressions darted to Paladin Brendoran.

Kaerri Kaerri How does Bren respond?


Quoti+can+pay+peasant+skeletons+to+fight+for+me+because+_402a1241afa132a733bd40cf358ed7d0.jpg
(Image credit: www.erikronnblom.com)
GAME DETAILS Location: Near the Dungeons of Castle Anguish
Mode: Exploration
Click Blue Box for Ambiance =)
"D&D Ambiance - Dark, Dank Cave" by Sword Coast Soundscapes


 
Last edited:
(Insert something silly here as I double-posted by mistake! =) )
 
Oreleth once more readies her bow, saying, "If we fight and lose, not only will we most likely die, but so will many others back home. If we are going to do this, it must be all out for victory, working together to make it happen or we must not risk it. I advise caution, but I will stand with your decision, Brendoran."
 
Bren nods at Oreleth. "I agree. Let us retreat for the moment, that we may gain more information about our foe -- but fear not, friends," he added to the merchants. "We shall not leave you to your plight if our aid may release you from your curse." With that, he led the Wanderers back up the cavern from which they'd come, signaling Otiorin and Oreleth to take the rear. "Keep your eyes and ears open," he cautioned them all.
 
Luna nods. "Keep your faith in us. We will be back." Then, she does her best to be silent as she moves along out of the room.
 
.:|Nivirea Varelys - The Sorceress |:.

"The master..." Obba's deep, rich voice carried through the cavern. "The master sees you as you are, your starlike beauty and undeniable majesty is clear, but..." Obba's frown matched his master's as he gasped, "...he has no knowledge of a Nivirea nor of a Marcus Varelys! Please forgive us, Nivirea of Averlund. As much as we wish differently, you are... unknown to him!"

"Ah, but of course!" the girl had replied, realizing her mistake. "How could you know? You've been missing for a long time - Marcus Varelys is your grandson. Which makes me your... great-granddaughter."

Interrupted by the impending arrival of the ominous tormentor, Nivirea had been left standing in the same place even as Bren signaled the retreat. She eyed the still opening secret door with great suspicion. On the other side, her comrades were already running back towards the tunnel. For some reason she hesitated to move, stuck in some weird moment of contemplation. Finally she hurried after Bren and grabbed hold of his arm. The look on her face was hard to read this time. Skepticism? Frustration? Concern?

"We are going to fight that thing, aren't we? Set an ambush?"

Determination.
 
Bren placed his hand over Nivirea's to bring her along with them, though she was free to pull loose if she wished. "That's the plan," he replied. "But first we need to know more."
 
.:|Nivirea Varelys - The Sorceress |:.

Seemingly reassured, Nivirea reluctantly let herself be guided along, though she was constantly looking over her shoulder to see what was happening behind them.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top