Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Fifth Session, 23 October (part eight, an ambush, Thrae is tortured)

Spoiler

DM62: Some time later, the gnome is braiding the dwarf's beard into an elaborate warrior knot. Then she passes out on the dwarf's chest as the remainder of the groups finish their lovemaking. The party members feel drowsier than normal, passing out where they lay with their partners.

Vel sleeps very lightly, ears flicking at the slightest noises. She had whispered before they slept, to Thrae, that when they left to order her to go scout ahead of them.

Thrae would sleep heavier then Vel, though she did mutter an "Okay." Before she fell to sleep.

DM62: The party seems to have odd dreams through the night. Massive hands, binding them with rope. Driders, turning them in webbing. And the heady, musky scent of bestial cum that drove females wild with the need to be rutted.

Thrae admittedly had had dreams like this before. Sometimes when she hadn't had the opportunity to have fun with Vel for a while she'd get dreams of either the Chimera or other creatures tying her up and driving her wild. So if anything she might wiggle a bit in her sleep and blush just a bit. Thrae would wiggle a bit more, her eyes slowly opening as she tried to give a wake up stretch.

DM62: Thrae wakes up... her spider and human limbs individually bound and tied apart, spreading her exposed in a web of sorts. She hears a voice speaking up. "Good morning, dear." There's an impressive drider with a Webhunter lower body grinning at her, a wicked-looking lash in her hands. "I'm rather curious who sent you to us. So... I can make it feel good after you tell me. Or I can make you feel bad enough that you beg to tell me." She chuckles. "Either way I will enjoy it."

Thrae was rather surprised as she found herself bound, and even more surprised to see another drider in front of her looking very much like an unpleasant person to be faciing off against, especially with that whip. Dammit they had gotten caught somehow, and what happened to Vel? Still, she wasn't about to just tell these people why they were here, and she needed a bit of time to try to think up a good lie. So she stayed quiet, fully expecting what was likely coming.

DM62: The Webhunter drider chuckles. "Trying to buy time? Sorry. I'm not that patient." She brings the lash down hard against the drider's exposed human midriff, creating an ugly red mark on the smooth skin. The drider chuckles. "Usually one lash is enough. Especially with Fireburr venom on the lash." Even as the drider speaks, the lash mark begins to burn, like Thrae's stomach is on fire. "Won't kill you. But every mark will sting like that... for days."

Thrae: 'Fuck that hurts' Thrae thought to herself, though she only vocalized it as a quick scream of pain. Then it began to burn and she started to writhe against the bindings as she grit out. "Why do you even care anyways....You captured us already didn't you?"

DM62: "Of course we captured you. Like most... you're idiots. You think bringing in a bunch of surfacers to help you will let you accomplish whatever you want." She brings the lash down again, making a perfect cross on the drider's human stomach. "But when someone sends ten assassins... then they'll send twenty the next time. Or fifty. So I want to know..." she lashes again, this time striking just under Thrae's breasts, "Who. Sent. You."

Thrae: It hurt, it really really hurt, and Thrae was honestly wondering why the cared that much. Really with how much pain each lash gave her, she could almost pretend to not even be able to talk anymore. Still though, she instead went for something else, gritting out. "Darkrazors."

DM62: The Webhunter drider smiles, placing the whip aside for now. "See? Was that so hard?" She pulls a mushroom, crushing it in her hands, then rubbing the remnants against the lash marks. It doesn't quite get rid of the pain, but it does cool the burning somewhat, making it more bearable. "I can be a gentle mistress, if you cooperate."

Thrae: At least it felt somewhat better, but Thrae can still feel the pain through her stomach. She didn't say anything to the webhunter though, instead she just let her head hang a bit, trying to catch some of her breath back after her writhing. She wasn't entirely sure what to say at this point either, as she hadn't been asked another thing yet for her to co-operate with.

DM62: "So. Tell me about the darkrazor drider you were traveling with. We all thought she had been thrown out of her house, years ago, for her... disability. Was that a lie, then?" The drider softly kisses one of the lash marks, her delicate fingers teasing at Thrae's slit.

Thrae: "Don't know." Thrae said with perfect honesty, now shivering a bit due to other reasons then the pain. "We were told we would meet some people and that who was there. She wasn't our contact."

DM62: "Don't know?" The drider hisses. "Don't know. And we were getting along so well." She moves back, picking up the whip. "Alright, then... who was your contact?" She brandishes the whip, ready to strike.

Thrae: "I don't know either. They didn't give names. Just that we were told by a darkrazor, and met up with a darkrazor." Thrae was being completely honest on atleast the drider they had met up with. She knew that they might have heard her name from the smuggler, but she very much did not remember it if they had.

DM62: The Webhunter drider brandishes the whip, then brings it down cruelly between Thrae's breasts, leaving another wicked red mark. "Maybe you don't remember. Maybe you do. But we'll find out." She lashes out again, striking Thrae's belly. She strikes again, lashing the underside of Thrae's breasts. "So. Tell me more about your contact."

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Fifth Session, 23 October (part nine, an ambush, Vel and Arturus elude their captors, Thrae is freed)

Spoiler

Vel sleeps very lightly, ears flicking at the slightest noises. She had whispered before they slept, to Thrae, that when they left to order her to go scout ahead of them.

DM62: The party seems to have odd dreams through the night. Massive hands, binding them with rope. Driders, turning them in webbing. And the heady, musky scent of bestial cum that drove females wild with the need to be rutted. Vel is dreaming that Thrae is wrapping her up tightly with her dridersilk when she awakens to discover that a drider is indeed wrapping her up... but it is not Thrae. The rest of the party is still in an enchanted slumber, for the most part. Minotaurs are tying up some with rope, but others are being wrapped by driders as they sleep. The drider wrapping the chimera has carried her a little way from the camp already, but has only bound Vel's lower limbs and is unaware that the chimera is awake.

Vel observes the situation. Ambushed. Some sort of mind numbing magic or poison. Stupid, should have used sentries. There'd be time to berate herself later. She was a bit away and she had absolutly no desire to be at the mercy of a drider ever again. With her leg's wrapped up only right now, she needed to eliminate the drider before she was fully wrapped up, preferably silently. So she waited for the drider to let her squishy vulnerable human body to get close, before lashing her tail swiftly to try and bite out the driders throat, to hopefully silence her before the others were alerted. She doubted she could change the tides right now, but if she could escape, she might be able to help them later.

DM62: Vel's gamble works, and the drider goes down with a silent scream, her throat ripped open and her black blood spraying out over the chimera and a patch of nearby mushrooms. She crumbles to the ground in a twitching heap.

Vel grimaces, and uses her practice escaping webbing to get loose, before using the webbing to prop the spider up a bit. It wouldn't fool anyone up close but at a distance with her upper body upright it might seem like she's just lying down for a bit. Once done she looked for a vantage point she could observe the cave entrance from. She needed to know where they were going.

DM63: There's a hiss from near the chimera. A figure is hiding in the shadows past the cave entrance, ducking into a small crevice. It's the wood elf, Arturus, his weapons in hand. He's naked, but he seems to have bundled up his armor and brought it along.

Vel glances over, before crawling low to the ground towards him, keeping a low profile. Least her small stature gave her that advantage.

DM63: Arturus looks at the chimera, then turns and watches the bandits leaving. The large group of minotaurs and bandits carry off bundled-up figures, presumably the party. They're finally gone. Arturus whispers, "They may have left someone behind. Or we might find something useful. I understand you're mute... but you can understand me, correct?"

Vel looks over at Arcturus, giving him the big kitty eyes, but gives a slow nod. Checking for remaining clues would be important after all. Or abandoned gear. She wondered what happened to that undead assassin during all that. did undead sleep?

DM63: The elf waits a little longer, then quietly dons his armor, the elven mail softly clinking as he dons it. He then begins stealthily moving toward the encampment, weapons at the ready. He's naturally stealthy, being an elf, but he's a warrior and not a rogue, so there's still slight noise as he moves to investigate the site.

Vel get's low but keeps some distance from him. If he drew any attention, she wanted the oppurtunity to get the drop on whomever caught him. She stayed low on all fours, letting her tail watch behind her, tongue flicking out to scent the air.

DM63: The scent of driders and minotaurs is pervasive, but also... definitely a mushroom-based sleeping spore cloud was used here recently. In the campsite, it seems that everything and everyone has been carried off... but there's a spreading puddle of blood that Vel spots, spreading from a hidden crevice.

Vel hurries over to the crevice, peeking within. Maybe that was the assassin. Or maybe not. She figured best find out.

DM63: There's the body of an adolescent minotaur stuffed in here, his eyes open in horror and his mouth wide with a silent scream. He seems to be bleeding from his ankle, which looks to have been cut on a rock while he was being stuffed into the crack. The wood elf moves over, frowning. "Injury looks to have happened... AFTER something scared him to death. And stuffed him in here."

Vel frowns and tilts her head, sniffing the air about for what could have caused this. If she sensed nothing she stayed low and began following the scent of the bandits back for their lair. She wrapped her snake tail around the wood elf's arm since he probably couldn't see so good in the darkness and lighting a torch down here was known as Orange Buffet. Since you could see that torch for miles away.

DM63: Vel does stop some bioluminescent algae nearby. It's allowing the elf to see in here... and would probably be enough to let him see if brought along. The elf frowns. "Irena might have done this. An illusion so horrifying as to stop this minotaur's heart."

Vel gives a silent meow and leads him over to the algae, looking at it then up at him.

DM63: "I see. So you're mute... but not dumb." The wood elf gives the chimera a soft stroking, then picks up some of the algae, rubbing it on his gloves to help him see without standing out too much. "Thank you." He looks at the small minotaur. "If I had to guess... Irena hid the body so that she could impersonate the minotaur. Which means that we should memorize what this one looks like, and then keep our eyes open for him." He looks about. "You've got the gift of good scent, right? Can you help me track them? I'm a decent tracker, but I'm something of a novice down here."

Vel nods, purring at being pet, as she get's low, snuffling along the ground as she leads the way, keeping her eyes and nose open for potential hazards or ambushes as she moves, keeping a bit ahead so as to remain out of msot of the light. The lighting of the algae was blue, so it helped dull how far it showed in the dark. He'd still be very obvious at a distance, but not miles at least. She just had to hope the bandits would be too excited over their prey to get anything done. Shame Thrae probably would be stuffed with minotaur kids by the time she got there. She'd be jealous if they were able to breed. Well... She still was jealous.

DM63: The wood elf follows at a small distance, keeping his eyes peeled for danger as they move. He seems content to stay quiet. Occasionally he asks Vel yes and no questions about the terrain, the under land terrain, and which kinds of mushrooms are potentially harmful or beneficial. For the most part, though, he remains silent, watching for trouble.

Vel answers honestly to what degree she could, and kept on the move. The bandits had moved quite quick, though admittedly they were moving slow to avoid ambushes. There was still missing people to be found as well. The Faun and uh... The Faun only she supposed. Hopefully she'd make an appearence because she could use the help. Oh wait there was that Regulus guy too. Hm. Well either way. Pity she had no idea how to harvest mushrooms without setting them off. They could come in handy here. Long as they didn't run into those parasitic ones.

DM63: Arturus is a quick study, for a surfacer. It's not long before the scent of minotaurs grows stronger, and Vel spots a pair of minotaur sentries at the entrance to a large tunnel. They don't seem to have spotted the group yet, and they're standing near some bioluminescent fungus themselves.

Vel stops and raises her tail a bit to stop him, gesturing for him to lose the gloves with her tail. She studies the cavern wall above them, considering if she could feasibly scale above them to get the drop.

DM63: Arturus nods, dropping the gloves. He murmurs to the chimera. "They might not see you as a threat, especially if you start running when they see you. And if you can get them close to me, I can use a little force magic to knock them down and out."

Vel looks up, then swallows like she's nervous, before nodding, giving him a moment to get ready, before wandering into vision, snuffling the ground like she's just some scavenger. Once she knows they see her, she looks up, eyes wide, before turning and scampering away on all fours quickly.

DM63: The minotaurs grin at each other, running after the chimera swiftly. Their massive hooves make small clouds of mushroom spores rise up, and one of them steps into trapper mushrooms. He gives a growl and a yelp, rooted to the spot as the carnivorous mushrooms begin to entrap him. His fellow stops running, producing an axe and approaching cautiously to free the first minotaur. Arturus is close, approaching with his weapons brandished, directly behind the second minotaur and obscured from the first one's view.

Vel turns and smirks smugly, sitting down and watching, once she's sure she's out of the way. She wasn't sure why he wasn't just doing the magic thing like he said but she was willing to watch how it played out rather thank risk getting between three things double to triple her size.

DM63: Arturus is somewhat fascinated by the mushrooms trapping the minotaur, but lets the other one get closer. Then he brandishes the mace and brings a furious blow down, sending a wave of pure force that knocks both minotaurs out cold. They're stuck in the trapper fungus, their lower bodies being slowly devoured. The wood elf skirts the edge of the fungus, using another bit of force magic with his longsword to decapitate the minotaurs, putting their heads into a burlap sack. "Well. That's a tenth of our goal." He nods to the chimera. "Nicely done."

Vel purrs, walking over and brushing up against his legs, before heading towards the tunnel cautiously, observing for more sentries or traps. Be unfortunate to get this far and have the ceiling fall on them.

DM63: There don't seem to be any traps laid out, the corridors having recently been traversed. The tunnel branches off in four directions, and it would seem that the prisoners have been led in various directions. But Thrae was taken down the tunnel to the left.

Vel frowns and looks to Arcturus, sitting down, then pointing down each tunnel with her tail. She then tapped her collar then pointed down the one Thrae was taken down.

DM63: "So they split them up. And Thrae's down that tunnel? I suppose that's a good place to start." Arturus leads the way, moving cautiously through the rock tunnel.

Vel nods, sniffing and keeping an eye on the ceiling as well and watching for any stray webs. She'd smell them before she see them, and they could tip off their enemies. Once they secured Thrae, she could spot them better than she could.

DM63: They don't seem to have the best security here... and before long...

DM62: The Webhunter drider brandishes the whip, then brings it down cruelly between Thrae's breasts, leaving another wicked red mark. "Maybe you don't remember. Maybe you do. But we'll find out." She lashes out again, striking Thrae's belly. Vel arrives from a side tunnel into a small chamber, where she can see Thrae stretched out by webbing lashed to each spider and human limb. A Webhunter drider is lashing at her with a cruel-looking whip, but does not seem to have noticed the chimera yet. She strikes again, lashing the underside of Thrae's breasts. "So. Tell me more about your contact."

Vel's eyes narrow. Well then. Time to reverse the situation. She gestures back to Arcturus, making a gesture of knocking out. She wanted this one alive.

DM62: Arturus nods, then brings his blade through the webbing with force magic, rending them and partially freeing Thrae. He follows up with the mace, bashing the Webhunder drider hard enough to hurl her into a back wall. She slumps to the ground. "Well. Hopefully that wasn't fatal." He turns to Thrae. "I'll cut you down. Are you badly hurt?"

Thrae probably didn't look very okay at the moment. "No wounds...Whip poisioned...Very painful...Fireburr."

Vel hisses angrily. She had no way to counter it. She moved over and started tying up the drider with her own webbing. She'd enjoy finding out what she was on about.

DM62: There's the remnants of a crushed mushroom near Thrae, and a few more intact ones nearby of the same sort. Arturus shakes his head. "Not sure what we can do for Thrae, but still probably best to bring her along. We don't want her getting recaptured." He looks at the bound Webhunter drider. "We ARE supposed to be collecting heads, you know. Not sure how many prisoners we can afford to take."

Vel sighs mentally before coming closer and whispering painfully. "We can kill her after. She's a Webhunter and she was talking about contacts... Mistress will want to know what she knows... Ow..." She winces, holding her throat, removing the collar to rub it. It actually did kind of hurt though not as much as she let on.

Thrae: "Mushrooms...they make it less painful...just need to crush them up..." Thrae managed to get out.

Vel looks over, then hurries about crushing the mushrooms for her mistress and bringing them over, wanting to help her swiftly.

Thrae: "Rub on whip marks...doesn't get rid of it all...but helps at least."

Vel promptly starts rubbing the stuff into Thrae's wounds, mewling quietly as she works.

DM62: Arturus raises his eyebrows, surprised to hear the supposedly-mute chimera speaking now, but then nods, moving to watch for any approaching guards. There's a scuttling coming near. The wood elf stands next to the chamber entrance, weapons at the ready. The mushrooms help, making the lash marks much less painful, though they still sting. Another drider enters the chamber. "Any news from the-" Arturus sweeps his blade through her neck, decapitating her.

Vel jerks on the intrusion but calms when Arcturus handles it swiftly.

Thrae: With the mushrooms being rubbed over her, Thrae started to be a bit more able to talk and move. She didn't even pay attention to what Arturus did. "Ahh that feels better...What happened to the rest? I've been stuck here."

Vel: "Got to you first, mistress. What were you being tortured to gain?," whispers Vel, rubbing her throat.

DM62: Arturus turns to look at the drider and chimera. "I can hear you, Vel. No point in whispering at this point. But unless it's urgent, we need to keep moving. More friends to free." He starts back up the tunnel towards the large intersection.

Vel: "I can't talk Louder, Mistress' ally. My throat was cut and I can't talk good since...," whispers Vel, "We need to carry the captive... Mistress can you do so? I'm too small..."

Thrae: "They wanted to know who sent us....I told them something totally wrong." Thrae said, picking herself up and trying to get her bearings again. "I think this is going to sting for a few days if the drider wasn't lying, but I can try yes."

Vel: "Mmm... This one is a webhunter, mistress. We should see if they are really bandits. Old mistress tried a similar trick and Vel saw..." whispers Vel, nodding and moving to scout ahead, "Vel will scout ahead, mistress. Smell for danger..." She whispers, moving ahead.

DM62: Vel can smell the other party members, several of whom came from different paths and are not heading down the same one. She's able to follow them easily.

Thrae would take the webhunter and pick her up, following slowly behind Vel as she hoped they'd catch up with the others soon.

Vel points the way. "They all went that way," she whispers, "And a corpse... Petting lady must be loose..." She nods and heads that way.

Thrae: Following Vel, Thrae try to avoid shuddering to much from the whip's pain still hurting her as they did.

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Fifth Session, 23 October (part ten, a reunion marked with bloodshed)

Spoiler

DM62: Irena nods, still looking like the adolescent minotaur. "The bulk of the prisoners were taken down different tunnels. Come on." She guides the group out to a large intersection, then through another tunnel towards a large chamber. "Be careful up here. We're likely to encounter a lot of them. We might want to stop to look ahead." Raz'Qui can smell... the gnome, the kitsune, the dragonkin, a minotaur, and the Shiriti... they just passed through this intersection, heading down another tunnel.

Zyanya: "Smart move to separate us, I suppose. Divide us up, do with us what they will and keep us in the dark about the fates of our friends. For all I know, I'd have spent the rest of my days in that chamber."

Raz'Qui would skid to a halt to turn and follow after the scent of the others. His four legs letting him cover the distance quite quickly. He refrained from growling or roaring to alert the bandits.

Helvoque: The dwarf follows behind the dragon, keeping good pace with his stubbier frame but still starting to fall behind, grunting a bit and now about glad he wasn't in his full kit yet.

DM62: Raz'Qui spots... a massive minotaur, facing away from him. But it seems to be quietly following along with Zyanya, Alexis, Jenna, and another pair of minotaurs, only one of which is bound. They're looking ahead, scanning a chamber which looks to be filled with various matings of minotaurs and driders, fucking all manner of webbed captives. It's a massive orgy chamber. A paunch-bellied faun is wearing a collar, moving eggs to a back chamber. Nisali.

Raz'Qui would skid to a halt behind the others. Growling softly as he stood to his full height. Staring down the minotaurs that weren't bound. "He with us?"

DM62: The minotaur in front smiles, speaking in Irena's voice. "He's with us. And... no longer with us." Jenna snickers at this. "Yes, he's working for me now. But he's not exactly among the living anymore." The massive minotaur stares ahead quietly.

Raz'Qui: "I see." He frowns at that implication before turning to the others. "Everyone alright?" Though with him standing, the others could see that he was still partially hard from his own encounter.

DM62: Standing behind Raz'Qui, Helvoque notices Vel, Arturus, and Thrae moving up behind them in the tunnel. Thrae seems to have a Webhunter drider, bound and brought along.

Zyanya: "F...fine as I can be Raz. But it seems like we've found the proverbial lions den of iniquity. Good to see that the others are doing okay though. Seems like everyone is in as good a shape as could be given the circumstances."

DM62: Irena, still appearing to be an adolescent minotaur, nods. "We're fine. How about me and Big Dead move in there quietly. Maybe Thrae as well. Nobody will notice us until we strike. Then we start the slaughter. Anyone not bound or wearing a collar dies."

Vel looks over and moves up, peering past them, wrinkling her nose at the overwhelming stench of sex sweat and hatched eggs. Against such numbers she'd be of little use. She did see the faun in there though. There was something she could do, free her.

Raz'Qui nodded as he looked into the large room ahead and the orgy happening. Taking a moment to count the numbers with in.

Hel breathes hard as he quickly meets up with them, skidding behind the dragon. "Bloody hell... Note to self, suggest watches from this point on," the dwarf mumbles. "Anyone got a spare axe or something?" he asks, though he glances towards the chimera and drider.

Thrae would catch up, "No I don't even have my staff...Also is that the faun from before?" Thrae said, she had totally guessed this would be the case. Totally called it.

Zyanya: "Sentiment shared Hel. I wish I have my spear to gut some rapist bull bastards...But I think we might have to sit this out if they can't find our equipment."

Raz'Qui growled, looking quite ready to tear into them with just claw and fang.

Vel tilts her head. "Mistress friends lack weapons? Mistress can web rocks to make weapons for mistress friends," nods Vel as she whispers, wincing in pain.

DM62: Jenna nods, passing back the axe that she took from the minotaur prisoner. She points to the middle-sized minotaur. "That one's our prisoner. Keep an eye on hi-" the minotaur headbutts Alexis, knocking her out cold, then gives a load roar, "INTRUDERS!" There are shouts from the orgy room as its occupants grab weapons to defend themselves.

Vel: "...Vel thinks we prey now. Vel thinks we fight in tunnel so lots predators become few predators..."

Helvoque: "Well, so much for subterfuge..." The dwarf grumbles, grabbing the axe. "FOR THE GRAND HALLS!!!" he bellows, holding the axe as he moves towards the front.

Raz'Qui roared as he leapt into the room, taking the initiative and charging them.

Vel: "...Vel thinks mistress have less friends shortly..."

DM62: Arturus holds out his sword to the Shiriti. "Can you wield a blade, my lady?" He brandishes his mace, prepared to wade into combat.

Thrae sighs as they charge in. Before trying to charge up some of her lightning magic without her staff.

DM62: Three minotaur are quick to charge at the dragonkin, wielding axes as the move up. Jenna sighs, and orders her massive minotaur corpse forward to assist Raz'Qui.

Zyanya: "But of course, Arturus. What sort of warrior would I be if I didn't!" She'd smirk, taking the weapon and sticking close to Arturus and providing him support if need be and aiming to kill a fair few bulls.

Raz'Qui growls as he dives low, his teeth and claws aiming for one of the brute's knees.

Vel sits and watches for an opportunity to do something useful. A massive brawl was a good place for her to get trampled...

Thrae: If her magic manages to charge up, Thrae would throw out a bolt of lightning at either one of the minotaurs that charged Raz, or at whoever decided to come after her and Vel first.

DM62: Raz'Qui chops down one of the charging minotaurs at the knees, dodging an axe-swing by another. A third swings true, but before he can connect a blast of lightning knocks him down. A drider flings webbing at the dwarf, attempting to trap him to the floor. More minotaurs and driders charge forward into the fray.

Raz'Qui would sink his teeth deep into the minotuars flesh and give a vicious shake before leaping up and off to face another one.

Helvoque: The dwarf ducks down as the webbing flies for him, using his axe to quickly cut free any that caught before swinging into foes that goe for the tunnel and more delicate people. He growls, striking and hacking at anything in range, even if he was sadly bereft of armor, clothes, and common sense.

DM62: The drider flings herself at the dwarf, trying to capture the dwarf, but badly underestimating a dwarf's axe skills as the axe blade is buried in her chest.

Raz'Qui tosses the other minotaur aside, facing off against one more, wielding a pair of scimitars. This one looks to be a bit more dangerous, skillfully preparing for the dragonkin's onslaught. Another drider tries to fling webbing at Thrae, but gets cold-cocked in the jaw by the big dead minotaur under Jenna's control.

Raz'Qui stopped his charge before he was about jump recklessly into him. His eyes narrowed as he studied this new threat. After a few moments he lashed out with his claws, testing the minotaur's reflexes.

Helvoque: The dwarf yanks his axe from the latest corpse, growling and laughing at the victims that were falling before him. "Come on, you can do better than that! You lot are taller than me and fight like a bunch of drunken kobolds!"

Zyanya: "I've seen blind goblins fight better than these louts! And that's an insult to the goblins!" The shiriti, despite her lustful state was hopefully able to hold her own against the opponents, keeping herself near the man who gave her the sword.

DM62: "Thank you for helping us to remove some of our more useless members." The ground shakes a little as the biggest minotaur that Helvoque has almost seen moves to stand before the dwarf. He carries a massive hammer in two hands, glaring down at the dwarf. "I think you'll find me more challenging than a drunken kobold." The other minotaur with the scimitars is cautious, stepping back from the claw attacks, waiting for the dragonkin to overextend himself. Arturus wades into the melee, knocking two minotaur across the chamber with a force magic swing of his mace. A drider flings more webbing at the Shiriti, securing a foot to the ground.

Raz'Qui: Seeing that he was just as cautious, he gave a small growl. He unleashed a gout of frost and ice at the minotuar before following it up with his maw. Aiming blindly in the frost.

Zyanya: Grunting in frustration as her foot was trapped, the Shiriti would struggle to cut it away. She wanted to catch up to Arturus but it seemed she'd ahve to deal with this drider first. "Cheap trick, bitch. Not about to let some venom spewing hussy get the better of me."

Helvoque: The dwarf frowns upwards as he stares at the giant minotaur. "Size don't mean everything lad. We'll soon find out." He keeps a good watch on the massive hammer, holding the axe in specific defensive position and waiting for a opening to slide in and hack.

Thrae would keep throwing out magic as much as she could, aiming to assist the others in there fights with well-timed magical bolts to throw off enemy attacks or blocks.

DM62: The scimitar-wielding minotaur covers his face with the blades at the blast, growling, then swings back, nicking the dragonkin. Raz'Qui manages to sink his teeth into the minotaur's arm, and he growls angrily, punching the dragonkin in the snout with the hilt of the scimitar in a clenched fist. Zyanya manages to cut away the webbing, only for the drider to thrust a spear at her, trying to impale the Shiriti. Meanwhile, the massive minotaur swings his hammer in a downward arc, the rapidly-descending blunt weapon threatening to end the dwarf's life in a very violent fashion. Another pair of minotaurs charge at the chimera and drider, only for Thrae to catch them in a blast of frost. Arturus is still sweeping through driders and minotaurs. He turns, looking back to see if Zyanya needs any help.

Vel continues to watch Thrae do what she did best. She couldn't deny she was a bit jealous. Were she proper she could be in there too, thrashing enemies, and doing other... big... chimera things. But that wasn't the way life played out for her and she had to work to her strengths. And obvious protracted brawls were not her strength.

Raz'Qui latched on tightly despite the blow to his snout and the cut to his arm. He shook his head violently to tear up the flesh as he leapt onto the minotuar so all four sets of claws could go to town on him.

Zyanya: Free at last, the Shiriti had little time to celebrate however as the drider was lunging at her with a spear. Cowardly tactics, but one she was prepared to deal with. The amazon would tuck and roll, hoping to get out of the way of the spear before leaping up and lunging at the drider to counter attack, hoping to use the missed opponents momentum against her. Hopefully, this would do the job and not draw Arturus into her fight.

Helvoque quickly rolls off to the side, duping the heavy weapon as it slams into the flagstone. With a roar, he swings the axe he's using along the the movement of him moving back to his feet, swinging for the fences at the ankle joint of his massive foe to fell him.

Thrae laughed at the two minotaurs freezing up, and tried to shatter them with earthen pillars shooting out of the ground. Before she turned to the rest. Throwing out fireballs, lightning, everything she could as she aimed to help Hel with his enemy.

DM62: Raz'Qui comes away with a large chunk of the minotaur's flesh, making him scream in pain as his arm is rendered useless. He catches the claw with the other scimitar, howling as the dragonkin drives other sets of claws into him, but swinging the scimitar at Raz'Qui, attempting to end this threat. Zyanya successfully swings the drider to the ground, disarming her and coming back with... her own spear. It would seem that the drider was using Zyanya's own weapon. The drider snarls, coming back at the Shiriti with a knife. Meanwhile, the force of the massive minotaur's hammer catches the dwarf offguard, and his swing is a little short of the minotaur's leg. The huge beast kicks the dwarf, sending him flying backwards. Meanwhile, Thrae manages to shatter two more of the minotaurs... and then the drider facing off against Zyanya is consumed in a ball of flame, shrieking. Arturus shakes his head, shouting at the drider. "That's all very nice, but we need intact HEADS. Try to stick to shock magic!" He knocks a drider back with a mace force swing.

Vel idly wondered if Jenna could reanimate all the heads.

Raz'Qui would leap back, though not before taking a nasty gouge across his shoulder and part of his throat. Growling even louder, he balled up both his fists and slammed them upward, hopefully in his face.

Helvoque: The dwarf goes flying back, giving a bit of a grunt as he lands bare-backed into the wall. He grumbles and gets back up, managing to find a convenielt pot lid to use as a impromptu shield as he quickly grabs it. He growls as he faces his opponent, hammering the weapon to the shield to taunt the monster to face him.

Zyanya: Well, that was one way to dispatch a drider. Even if it was working against their intended objective. And to think, the drider was attempting to kill her with her own spear. The nerve of those spider bitches! She'd pick up her weapon, jogging to catch up with Arturus as he scolded whoever torched the drider. "Guess I'll not be needing the sword. Got my spear back." She tapped the shaft against the ground. "But I do owe you for the weapon. For now, we have ass to kick."

DM62: At this point the tide has begun to turn, as the slaves turn on their captors, and as the decapitated enemies rise up against their former comrades. Arturus smiles at the Shiriti, taking back his blade. "We're allies, my lady. You owe me nothing." A pair of minotaurs charge at the wood elf and at Zyanya. Meanwhile, the massive minotaur swings his hammer again, swiping side-to-side in an effort to batter the dwarf. The scimitar-wielding minotaur grunts, pulling back to slash at the dragonkin again but not completing the arc before the dragonkin knocks him to the ground with a pair of fists to his face. He twirls to recover, attempting to guard himself with his one good weapon-wielding arm.

Raz'Qui hops on top of him with a snarl. His teeth sinking into anything with in reach as all four claws try to make mince meat out of him.

Vel observes the shifting tide and decides to make her move. Sneaking through the mess, she decides to make a pass moving behind the giant Minotaur, and bite out his tendons by the hell of one of his legs, before running off out of the fight.

DM62: The scimitar-wielding minotaur goes down in spurts of blood as the dragonkin claws his arteries open, landing hard and still. Vel's attack lands well, and the massive creature snarls and kicks back at the chimera, knocking her down but quite distracted.

Helvoque: The dwarf frowns, but banks on doing something stupid to save the day. Keeping the shield held to his left, he waits till the hammer darts off that direction before diving in, rushing past the sweep of the deadly handle and diving under, going to slide under the arch and get behind him through his legs. If he manages that, he goes again to hamstring the great beast.

Zyanya: "I insist. Shiriti aren't good at keeping debts." (I think). She wouldn't have a chance to elaborate much though as a new pair of minotaurs launched themselves at the pair. At least with her spear in hand, she'd have better reach and would be able to sidestep and jab at the throat of one of the giant bulls.

Raz'Qui growls as he turns to see what remains. Seeing the dwarf in trouble he waits for a moment for an opportune time to bound over and jump at the massive minotaur so that he might sink his fangs deeply into his neck.

Thrae throws out another lightning bolt, trying to assist Zyanya and the wood elf again but stunning or taking down one of the creatures before it could reach them.

Vel is launched across the cave by something so massive slamming into her, holding her sides with a grimace and a pained mewl. Fuck that hurt... Hopefully he didn't break anything... She took this time to pull herself out of harms way to nurse her wounds, and maybe unhook the faun...

DM62: The minotaur's hammer swing goes wide thanks to Vel's distraction, permitting the dwarf to slip under his guard and slice at his other hamstring, bringing the massive creature to his knees with a scream. The Shiriti's attack lands in a minotaur's throat, sending him down gurgling on his own blood. Arturus prepares another withering mace attack, only for Thrae's lightning blast to stop its heart, making the other minotaur collapse. The wood elf turns to the drider, giving her a small salute with his blade. There aren't any driders or minotaurs left to fight, the rest being taken down by freed captives. The human smuggler, freed from webbing, advances on the giant minotaur with an ornate dagger. "Right. Hel, feel free to do the honors."

Raz'Qui would stand up, his eyes surveying the scene for any other immediate threats.

Helvoque: The dwarf grins a bit, grabbing the dagger and quickly climbing to the beast's great throat. "Lucky for a git like you, you'll bleed out before I'm done," he growls, grabbing his head and quickly dragging the dagger across his throat, working the blade in to grab the head.

Vel looks aside, watching someones throat cut bringing up bad memories.

DM62: The bandits are all dead or incapacitated at this point, the massive minotaur collapsing to the ground as his throat is slashed open. "Right," the human smuggler nods, "please leave that dagger sticking out of his head. When any of the other bandits return, they'll find our little 'fuck you' message." A heavily-pregnant Nisali moves over to the chimera, gently examining her. "You... you okay, Vel?" She checks for injuries gently.

Zyanya: "Gods that was...difficult. Never thought I'd be fighting like this again..." She said in regards to her current state of affairs. She'd then take the time to remove the creatures head, wanting at least one trophy of her own. "I'd ask the same of you Nisali. You look like you're carrying a several litters."

Vel mewls in pain as she shrugs, looking Nisali over, coughing a bit. "...You can speed up dropping those with a certain mushroom combination..." she whispers, coughing, having been booted by a giant hoofed bull.

Helvoque: The dwarf grunts, slinging the knife into the beast's noggin with a bloody THUNK. "Well, now the more pressing matters are dealt with, I think it's time I found our kit.... This cave's getting draftier every second," he grumbles.

DM62: The faun gasps as the chimera speaks to her. She whispers back. "You can... talk?" She rubs her fur softly, trying to get a better assessment of the chimera's wounds. "Normally I'd be pleased but... you probably shouldn't talk just now."

Thrae: With the fight finally over, Thrae moves over to Vel, looking to make sure the chimera was okay. She'd also see Nisali there, "Are you both okay?" After all Nasali had been here for at least a few days.

DM62: Arturus gestures to the fallen foes. "They seem to have stolen your weapons and armor. Check their bodies for your gear."

DM62: Nisali nods. "I'm a bit pregnant, but I'm fine. Where have you guys been?"

Vel smiles wryly, at the irony of it already hurting to talk. She wasn't certain how bad she was, though she figured she was only alive because she was a chimera, despite her size. A normal person would have been decapitated by such a blow.

Zyanya: "Who in blazes would be wearing my gear anyway. It's mostly fur and backed by leather. Hardly the pinacle of defense." The shiriti complained a little, but knew she'd ahve to search one way or the other. "Hel, let me help. I'm as desperate to find my gear as you are."

Helvoque: The dwarf nods quietly, continuing to dig through corpses and tugging out bits and pieces from enemies as he finds familiar things. "Would like to see these creeps try to squeeze into some of our armor, personally," he jests.

DM62: The party is able to find their gear. Most of the armor is tossed into a corner of the lair, but the weapons are among the dead driders and minotaurs. Nisali prods a little more. "Well you're a bit bruised up, dear, but no broken bones. Try not to get kicked by any more minotaurs for a few weeks." Jenna walks over, softly stroking the chimera's fur.

Helvoque: In a few brief seconds, Helvoque is back in breaches, chainmail and bodyplate, sliding his hammer back in it's sheathe and his axe on his back. Sadly, the leather had been torn from his shield, leaving the Magmahammer crest yet again visible.

Zyanya: "I know, right? Could you imagine?" Zyanya had a good chuckle at the image but had to get back to work soon enough. "Those bastards damaged or stretched it out, I'll kill their spirits in the afterlife." She'd eventually find her outfit, pulling it back on and tying the pieces securely to her body, her footwear coming last. "Good. No damage."

Vel purrs, shivering at the petting. "Mmmf... Guess I inherited something good after all..." she whispers, getting up a bit, "Mmm... Let's gather heads for the mistress mistress. Then can we find the egg dropping mushrooms for Not-Spider, Mistress?"

((end of session))

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Sixth Session, 29 October (part one, loot, eggs, prisoners, kisses)

Spoiler

DM62: The party has just finished kicking mountains of drider and minotaur butt. They've found most of their original gear, though Hel's shield cannot be found among the loot. Among the gear are two well-crafted scimitars, a darkrazor cloak, a spear that seems to be incredibly well-balanced, and a heavy shield made of a dark, unknown metal.

Vel has gone off to gather mushrooms to help the faun drop her eggs swiftly.

Thrae picked up the cloak, trying to see if it had any special properties, the rest of the equipment wasn't to terribly useful for her after all.

Helvoque: The dwarf is a bit disgruntled at the loss of his shield, but is taking it well. "Blasted beasts... If that thing gets bandied about it'll lead to... awkward questions..." he grumbles, sharpening his axe again as he sits on a nearby stool. He's wincing occasionally from his own dosage of Fireburr but is doing a good job of hiding the pain... mostly.

DM62: There are several prisoners besides Nisali. All told, the party rescues five under elves, one blonde human female, and an orc male. The human female smiles, helping Vel to gather the necessary mushrooms for drider egg removal.

Raz'Qui would settle down once his gear was found and grab a length of thread and a needle before casually setting to work stitching up his wound upon his shoulder. "Well that could have gone better. Why did you think it was nessacary to take that minotaur captive?"

Vel nods to her and gather them, as well as the mushrooms to help numb the fireburr pain, since it seems she might need those in abundance moving on

Zyanya: Having a second spear might be useful, especially if it's as balanced as this. "If no one will take the spear, then I shall. A back up in case mine becomes lost or it gets knocked away from my hands."

Alexis hums as she looks at the spoils, her face contorted in thought as she considers the cloak, frowning when the Drider picks it up, moving to dress herself and gather her own gear.

DM62: The darkrazor cloak seems to deepen the shadows around the wearer significantly. The darkness would probably go unnoticed in an area with varied light, but would probably be quite visible in an area with even light (like the middle of plains in the daylight). There are also several vials of fireburr venom. Arturus, the wood elf, notes the spear. "That's... of elven make. And... may I hold it for a moment?"

Raz'Qui not object as he stitches himself up.

Zyanya: "Of course." Zyanya hands of the spear, having no issue with the elf taking it since he saved her more than once."

DM62: The elf feels the spear's weight, examining it. "It's got a slight force-magic enhancement. It'll fly straighter when thrown... and it'll pierce deeper when used to stab." He hands the weapon back to the Shiriti. "Should be a good spear for you."

Zyanya: "I had a feeling it would be a perfect fit. Can't say I'l as adept as throwing as I'd like but with a little practice Ican make better use of the weapons abilities. Even then, I can use this effectively in combat with fighting with it. So long as you're fine with me taking it, Arturu."

DM62: The wood elf shrugs. "I'm a sword and mace man, myself. I can wield a spear if I need to... but I'm probably not as good with them as you are."

Zyanya: "My people have a lot of practice with it. That and the bow. Though I never took to the bow as well as some of my sisters. Always prefered getting up close and personal."

DM62: There's still a pair of well-crafted scimitars and a dark-metal shield laying unclaimed.

Raz'Qui: "Someone else can take those. I am content with my claws and my sword." He looked to the tiny human woman he had bred the night before. "Human woman, can you help me a moment?" He stopped sticking his wound near his neck where he couldn't exactly see.

DM62: There are also some weapons sized for larger creatures, which were wielded by the bigger minotaurs. Jenna has her undead minotaur pick up the big hammer that was used against Hel recently.

Helvoque: The dwarf finishes his work on his double-handed axe, giving a look at the axe before returning it to his back. Soon moving to the others, he gives a look over the shield, trying to investigate the metalwork. "Hrm..."

Zyanya: "Coming. Coming." Zyanya gently jogged over to the dragon kin. "Need help with something, my friend?"

Raz'Qui: "Yes, I can not see and need you to finish the stitch." He tilted his head to give her a better view of the gash across his shoulder and up his neck. Seemed he had gotten lucky with the blad just missing anything vital by a hair.

DM62: The shield seems to be dwarven-make, bearing the crest of a house on it... but none that Hel recognizes. It also looks rather ancient, but still looks remarkably sturdy. Next to the handle is engraved a master's mark, but Hel doesn't recognize it either. If he had to guess, this shield dates back to the Age of Wild Magic, probably an extinct clan now. He can't place the metal, but it's cool to the touch, and heavier than thick steel.

Zyanya: "I think I can do something about that. One moment" Putting both spears down, taking whatever tools Raz had and beginning to stitch up the injury in question. "Just stay still and I'll have this in a moment. Never really trained to heal necessarily but a warrior should know how to patch themselves up. Even if only for a little while."

DM62: The blonde human, having returned with a pouch full of mushrooms, spots the unclaimed scimitars. "Anybody else want those?"

DM62: The human smuggler chuckles. "Rynil, you never change." Rynil grins back.

Helvoque: "Curious..." the dwarf mumbles, giving a look at the defense. "Well, it belongs back on a Dwarf's hand anyway..." With that, the shield soon joins on his arm, the dwarf shifting a bit to get used to the weight. It was a bit heavier than his previous one but it'll do.

Vel looks to the human then the others curiously. Guess she was a smuggler too. she brought the over to the Faun since she knew herbs and probably had things to help make the salves to speed the eggs along, and to soothe those who were fireburr'd.

Raz'Qui nods as he hands the needle to her. "Go into the flesh then thread it through to the other side and over the the edge and into the flesh. Like laces on a boot or sewing something. Over then under." He sat down so she could reach it better. Seemed he had elected to stay naked for the moment to see to his cut.

Thrae would look at the humans. "You two know each other?" Even saying that she'd wince a bit, the fireburr from the whip still hurting rather badly.

Vel glanced to Thrae. Guess the shroom salve had wore off already from earlier. She'd need more mushrooms clearly.

DM62: Nisali raises her eyebrows as the chimera approaches. "Oh! Sorry... I didn't know you were gathering those for me. Um... you're going to remove the eggs first, right? Otherwise they tend to... burst through."

DM62: The human smuggler nods to Thrae. "Yup, Rynil was our expert helping these guys to produce and harvest drider eggs. But they got greedy--once they thought they had her methods figured out, they took her prisoner and double-crossed us. Which brings me here."

Vel nods to Nisali, moving behind her as she works the salve. Taurs were a pain but she could do it, just meant she'd have to et really in there to get it to work and get the eggs to slip out.

Thrae: "Ahh..." Thrae would say, so these guys went rogue from the kitsune's group, which made her wonder if the kitsune had been with them at the start for this. As a result of those lines of though, the drider was very quickly mentally stumbling over herself trying to think of how long the Kitsune and them had been planning this.

DM62: The faun moans and shudders as Vel works her, clearly suffering from minotaur cum withdrawal. Halfway through the operation, she climaxes a bit messily, then bites her lip. "I'm... sorry... about that, Vel..."

Helvoque: After his work, the dwarf moved towards the exit, deciding to keep watch just in case something tried to return and assault them...

Vel shrugs. Wasn't anything she'd never seen before. She quietly continues to get the eggs out, making sure to be through. She was used to cleaning out Drider's "loving" donations of fertility from others and herself.

Zyanya: "I see, I see. Into the flesh, threat it through to the other side then back over the edge. As I said, it shouldn't be too difficult. How hard can over than under be?" Assuming there was no mre instruction, she'd continue working, focused more on the injury then anything else

DM62: Irena folds her arms over her chest. "There's an orc among the prisoners. He's unconscious right now... but I'm not sure if letting him go is the best idea."

Raz'Qui would his head the tiniest of nods as he let her continue to work. His eyes glancing about the room at the state of the others.

Vel glances up at Irena's words. Well she doubted she needed to get Thrae or Jenna to say what her vote would be.

Helvoque: "An Orc?!? Here?!? Yes, best we don't let him go fast, he's probably not drugged by the minotaurs, and probably would do his best to escape first chance he got to warn of us," the dwarf pipes up near the chamber opening.

DM62: Three of the five under elves are also awake, cautiously eyeing the party, but not making any sudden moves. They also don't seem to trust each other, based on their body languages. Vel and Thrae believe they're from different houses.

Thrae would nod as well. "Yes, we should probably keep him bound for now at the very least."

Vel shrugs. No big shock there. Just send them off, they can off each other or escape at their leisure. They did what they came for. They had what they needed. And sounded like this was smuggler masterminded so little reason to keep their drider prisoner alive. she'd let Thrae do the honors on her.

Zyanya: "Just...a little more...and there!" Zyanya said with a bit of excitement in her voice as she finished the last stitch and cutting the thread with her teeth. "You'll need to be more careful in the future. Can't have you getting thousands of scars before the journey's end. You might run out of blood before then."

DM62: The orc speaks, still bound with drider webbing. The party notes that his webbing is much thicker than that of the other prisoners. "My name is Fel Blackiron. I'm a captain of the Blackiron clan, part of Warchief Malgra's Great Crusade. You've rescued me from dishonor and death, though. I've no intention of escaping you or informing on you--I'm honor-bound to remain your prisoner."

Vel glances over to the orc. So much for unconcious. Well. She'd leave it to the others to decide what to do. She noted that he didn't mention answering questions either. It made little difference to her. He was of little consequence beyond the oddness of a captain being captive of bandits. It was very suspect.

Helvoque: The dwarf raises an eyebrow but says no words to that. He gets the feeling that if he spoke, he'd lead to a shouting match between him and the greenskin that'd never end.

Raz'Qui smirked a moment. "I do not mind scars, as to blood loss, I have plenty of blood still left to spill." He brought his mouth over his wound and unleashed a small blast of ice, though rather then shoot forward, he clamped his mouth partly shut so that the frost crept down his neck and cover the would in ice. Once that was done, he would slip into his gear and prepare to get ready to move. "We should not linger here long. The death and blood will attract something more troubling then just bandits." He just hoped it wasn't one of those large underground worms that ate people.

Irena smirks, pulling out her knife and approaching the orc. "You might be honor-bound to remain our prisoner... but I'm not honor-bound to leave you alive, orc scum."

Zyanya: "Well, now that's a pleasant turn of events if ever I saw it." The SHiriti spoke with a little more energy in her voice and though she had her doubts, she wasn't afraid to speak up. "Still, I can't speak for my party. Your fate ultimatly lies with all of us."

Raz'Qui didn't seem to particularly care what happened to the orc prisoner.

Helvoque: "I would advise against such hasty action," the dwarf pipes up. "Honor-bound or not, he could at least be useful as a informant. Perhaps it may be best to hang onto him until we return to friendly territory?"

DM62: The kitsune places her blade at the orc's throat, pulling his top-braid back to fully expose the veins. "Right. This will be the first of many, I hope." She pauses as the dwarf speaks.

DM62: Then Arturus raises his voice. "Are we going to be just as bloodthirsty as our adversaries?" The human smuggler watches all this unfold, shrugging non-committedly.

Thrae would nod at Hel's statement. "Indeed we should not kill him so quickly. Who knows, maybe he'll come around later."

Vel returned to emptying out Nisali. Almost done she figured.

DM62: Nisali shakes through another helpless orgasm, panting and sweating as Vel finishes her work. "Th-thank you, Vel. I... I think I'm gonna be a mess for the next few days."

DM62: The kitsune lowers her blade, then reverses her stance to punch the orc in the face. The orc's head rocks back with the impact. "Not a bad punch for a foxgirl." He glares at Irena.

Vel nods, wiping her arm off on the wall, covered in faun juice, before mixing up the anti fireburr salve, then moving over and applying it to Vel, then going over to apply it to Hel.

Helvoque: "A fair point as well, lad. Don't worry your tails off, lass, pretty sure they'll be orc blood worth sating your bloodlust on in our future," Hel adds to the kitsune, moving towards the Orc. "Just because we're showing mercy doesn't mean I won't happily revoke it if you break your oaths of honor, lad. Just warning ya." Hel gives a surprised grunt as Vel sneaks over, her arms having to worm under his already-worn breastplate to get a chance at the scratchmark. "H-hey! I'm fine, I'm fine!" he adds with another wince.

Vel looks at Hel, then looks at Jenna, while she continues to work the salve in under his brastplate, smaller arms giving her an easier way to get at it.

Helvoque: The dwarf grunts but does relent, halting is struggles so that she can get done and over with for the medicinal rub.

DM62: Fel says nothing further, grimly watching the party from his bonds. Irena shakes her head in disgust, sheathing her blade.

Raz'Qui held back a chuckle as he watched the dwarf and chimera. He finished buckling on all his gear, his desicated wings stretching out and flicking at the air behind him.

Zyanya: "Well, that's settled then. Seems you got lucky, orc. Just mind yourself around here and everything will be fine."

Vel gets the salve rubbed in, then moves to go gather more salve mushrooms for later.

DM62: Rynil nods to the human smuggler, "I should head on. The others will be waiting to hear of our success. You coming along, or going with them?" The human smuggler looks at the party for a moment. "That depends. Tell me, folks... what's your angle? Is your alliance looking to fend off orc attacks? Or to invade and conquer the greenskins?"

Vel: Now that was a good question. One that they really couldn't answer. They were just the hand of the council, they didn't know what they intended.

Helvoque: The dwarf gives a grunt. "Far as I'm concerned, they can keep the desert. They didn't have much right to strike out as they did, or whatever this 'crusade's' final goal was."

Thrae: "I'd say just force them back to there lands. Conquering parts of the surface seems like more trouble then its worth."

DM62: "Well that's... yeah, I can work with that. Our organization doesn't want pinkskins OR greenskins to conquer the world." The smugger folds his arms. "Still the matter of payment, though. I never do a job for free." He glances over at the Shiriti. "Such a beautiful young woman... hmmm..." He strokes his well-groomed beard. "Alright. If Zyanya will sleep with me, I'll join you folks on your quest."

Raz'Qui chuckled, he doubted she was the sort of woman to sell herself so. Though he did expect her to deck the smuggler.

Helvoque: The warrior dwarf claps his hand to his forehead and gives a sigh, but doesn't state much else.

Vel gathered a bunch more mushrooms, before grabbing some cloth off one of the bodies to bundle them in for the time being. She'd need to find vials or jars to store the salves later.

Zyanya: "You think I come that easy, sir? I don't think so. You want a right to use me, then you'll have to earn it. Just because I'm a tribal dosen't make me a whore."

DM62: "I did save your chimera friend's life. Didn't really NEED to do that, did I?" He smirks. "It's my personal opinion that every woman, man, or in-between is a whore. The only question is one of price. But you're also clearly a lady, so... how about a kiss to seal the deal, instead?"

Zyanya: "A kiss? So long as that's it, then I suppose it's fine. Just don't get any funny ideas or try anything you might regret. I'm not afraid to punch a fool for thinking he can play grabby hands with me."

DM62: The smuggler grins. "Hands behind my back." He places his hands behind his waist, waiting for the Shiriti to kiss him.

Zyanya: "Fine. Fine." She tried to play it off, doing her best to keep her cool as she walked over to the smuggler. She'd lean in and give his cheek a kiss, feeling that would be enough for him. "There. Debt is paid."

DM62: The crafty smuggler turns as she leans in for the kiss, planting his lips on hers. His arms wrap around her for a second, and his tongue slips into hers for just a moment before he breaks away.

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Sixth Session, 29 October (part two, stampede, scaredy-snurflers)

Spoiler

Raz'Qui watches curiously for a moment. "Can we get going before the dead attracts the hunger of something?"

DM62: Jenna chuckles. "Probably a good idea." She motions her undead minotaur along, and the two of them start along the path. "Vel, you mind helping me spot the bad shrooms?"

Vel glances over, then leaves the bag of shrooms by Nisali, before walking out after Jenna, since Thrae seemed busy.

Helvoque: The dwarf is grumbling, moving to see if he can keep the orc partly tied up before getting him to his feet. "Guess I'm the one keeping you in line. Joy..." he can't help but mumble to himself, trying to keep any of his weapons out of reach as he half-manhandles to do his task with the larger humanoid.

Raz'Qui would hurry after the tiny chimera and the gnome necromancer, a small frown on his lips at the smell of her dead companion.

DM62: Nisali scoops up the bag of mushrooms, following the group a bit shakily. Arturus gives the chimera a small smile, accompanying Vel on the scouting expedition.

The orc raises an eyebrow. "I told you. Honor-bound. Won't require much 'keeping in line,' dwarf." Fel shakes his head. "Which of the thick-headed dwarf families are you from? You guys always think you have the corner on honor."

Thrae, having picked up the cloak and the like, headed to join the group in wandering away, her movements were still a bit weak and not helped by the bound drider she was carrying, but she wasn't about to fall behind because of it.

Vel glances back. "Mistress, if she is a burden you could jsut claim her head for harming your body...," she whispers, "Vel would never dream to second guess her mistress but she does not wish to see her burdened by servile tasks..."

Helvoque: "Not the first time someone's stated honor before trying to gut someone, lad..." he grumbles. "Suspision helps keep one alive to some degree, specially down here." He shrugs, moving to keep alongside him. "My clan's not of any concern with our travels, and is best left unmentioned."

Thrae: "We still haven't had a chance to get information out of her, so I think we'll keep her alive till then atleast."

Raz'Qui turns back to the struggling drider. "Let me." After a moment he hefts the captive one up into his shoulder.

Vel: "Of course, mistress," she whispers, "Vel apologizes for her mistep."

DM62: Jenna looks back as well. "If you wish to keep her alive, though... I suppose my minotaur companion could carry her for you... or the dragon-guy can do it." Irena follows the group quietly, still eyeing the orc suspiciously.

DM62: Fel glances at the dwarf. "So you're a nobleman, then. Interesting."

Helvoque: There's a sour grunt from the dwarf as he shifts his shield. "As I said, it's unimportant. What's important is how hard I swing an axe, and if you were awake earlier you probably heard that."

DM62: Fel raises an eyebrow. "The ability to avoid an axe is more important than the ability to swing it. Unless, of course, you mean to swing an axe at a bound orc captive."

Vel maneuvers around the feeding shrooms from earlier. "Bad ones. See the stripes...? They change colors to blend with the grove... but they can't change their formation so you can see the stripes where the tentacles hide...," she whispers, wincing and rubbing her throat.

Zyanya: Ok, if it wasn't for the fact the party needed all the help it could get and that it was getting underway, she would have smacked that smuggler straight in the teeth. But for now she held in her personal shame and let things proceed forward. "Anything I can do from here on out? I can carry supplies or extra goods if need be."

DM62: Jenna strokes the chimera softly as Vel point out the mushroom types, nodding. The smuggler grins. "I could use another kiss. Not part of the contract, but it's something you could do to help." He shoots her a wink.

Helvoque: "Do you always assume when one speaks violence it'll be directed at you?" he grumbles, irritation starting to grow more and more.

DM62: "I asked what house you belonged to. You told me that your axe-swinging skills were the important part. Think about how that sounds." Fel gives a hard grin.

Raz'Qui looked to his captive sternly. "Do not struggle. You will find I do not like that." He made sure to show her his row of razor sharp teeth, leaving it as a heavily veiled threat.

Vel purrs a bit as she's petted, moving forwards. "Those ones can be food. Vel was told they taste bad. Vel can't tell, she has bad taste senses... Those there are salve for fireburr, Vel brough bunch. And those ones aren't mushrooms. That's a toad. It'll eat you an me cus we're little if we get close. If we're lucky..." she coughs a bit then looks alarmed, dropping low to the ground, then placing an ear. "Tell everyone to stop. vibrations. We're either about to die or..."

DM62: Now the party begins to feel... and hear... a rumbling ahead, in the distance.

Vel: "...Stampede. We need to get to high ground," hisses Vel.

Helvoque: The dwarf snorts. "Tis the truth for what matters in the long run. I'm not going to let something like a title try to speak for me, lad, personal actions are what matters..." he starts to lecture, though he stops when he hears the rumble, and then the Chimera's words. "Stampede? Of what? There's not really many critters that show up in herds down here..."

Raz'Qui cursed quite colorfully in his native tongue. He then began to look about for a spot for them to get up and out of the way. Even if he had to toss a few of the others up.

Vel: "Does it matter? If we get trampled we're dead."

DM62: Fel shakes his head, looking about. "Wonderful fucking place, the Under Lands. Any recommendations, then?" At this point the party's in a large, open area. The ground does slope up slightly, to the left of the party's path.

Vel gestures. Left. Only chance. They'll curve around. Hopefully." She hurries up that way, "Look for stalagmites we can climb...

Zyanya: "Either way, I don't want to find out what it is. We have a slight slope nearby so I suggest we get up before we meet whatever's coming first hand."

Raz'Qui runs up ahead of the others and heading up the slope, his maw opening up. He unleashed as powerful as a blast as he can to create a platform of ice for them to take shelter upon.

DM62: Vel and Raz get a good distance up the gradual slope. The breath blast creates a small platform, but it also lays patches of slippery frost on the rock around the platform. There's a high-pitched squeal in front of the party, and a boar-sized lapine creature bounds past the party, fleeing from something. The rumbling grows louder... and closer.

Raz'Qui: "Get on up, Now!" Would toss up his captive and then move to help up Vel and the others as they arrive.

Helvoque: "...Aw hell, Lagonic Threshers..." the dwarf groans. "Someone at Northfort just HAD to let those things down here!?!" he's quick to climb up the slope however, even grabbing his axe towards the head and hanging the handle down to help some of the others with the rough terrain.

Zyanya didn't need to be asked twice to climb up the slope and to safety away from whatever was coming. Last thing she wanted was to be food for giant rabbits.

Vel: "I don't think ice is going to be sturdy enough to weather this," hisses Vel worriedly, digging her claws into the ice, "and it's not big enough for us all."

Raz'Qui: "For the little ones it will be." He then looks about for a spot for himself to climb up on, knowing that the drider could climb up the wall and Alexis could fly.

Vel curses and makes Thrae get up first before trying to follow, taking care of her first.

DM62: Irena and Jenna climb up nimbly, the dead minotaur using his axe to dig into the ground and pull himself up the slope. Nisali stumbles on the frost, slipping and falling... then Fel lowers his shoulder, ramming into the faun with a shout to push her up the rest of the way. The smuggler raises an eyebrow at all the commotion, calmly climbing as the stampeding herd of lagonic threshers charge into view, all of them rather large rabbit creatures, their eyes wild in panic as they bound by the party. One of them runs up the slope, bleating in terror and running into Vel. The ice begins to crack and melt under the party.

Vel yelps, crying out as she's slammed away by the beast, trying to clutch on lest she be trampled beneath the beast.

DM62: Vel's cries can be heard as the herd carries her off.

Raz'Qui: "Stay up there as long as you can, I'll go get her!" He then bounded off after the chimera carrying horde. He switches to all fours to increase his speed as he chases after them.

Helvoque: "Fucking rabbits!" he growls, his axe being one of the few things holding him up now he's helping the others hold up by proxie if they can grab onto him. Another large rabbit hits the metal shield with a resounding CLANG and bounces off, barely shifting his footing.

DM62: Raz is able to keep pace with the panicking lapines, pulling Vel to safety but unable to stop for the moment, for fear of being trampled. Meanwhile, there's a roar from behind the herd. The party spots what looks to be a huge anteater, plate-scales covering it, charging ahead as it crunches down the last bloody shred of one of the threshers. It's about the size of a three-story fort, and its eyes go wide as it notes the party, a stationary set of targets. Well... probably not "targets" so much as "food" to its simple mind.

Zyanya: "You've gotta be kidding me," Was all the shiriti could say as she did her best to remain stable and find a safer place to be amidst the stampede. Sure these weren't the most massive of creatures, but the thing behind it certainly was. How in the hell did anyone live down here with things like that?! "Now this is just getting ridiculous. How the hell did civilization even develop down here with things like this prowling around?!"

Vel yelps as she's pulled off. When she hears the roar though, her eyes widen. "...We need to go. Now. Everyone who doesn't get away is dead.," she whispers, "Split up and may the darkness shield some, because not everyone's going to survive." She wriggles to try and get loose to run.

Helvoque: "...Always a bigger fish..." he grumbles, and with a gruff growl he goes to sliding down the slope as most the rabbits have fled by now. He holds his axe in both arms, eyeing the creature to see which way it went. If he was lucky, he can get around the Snurfler and do it some harm when it was distracted elsewhere.

Raz'Qui keeps Val on his back, being the faster of the two. Though if she was really determined to get off, he wouldn't stop her. His wings keeping her from falling off. "Don't get off me, the moment you do, the ones behind us will catch up and run you over. Hopping off will slow you but a second, a second is all they will need."

Zyanya: "Good an option as I can think of at this point. Scatter to the winds and pray for some measure of luck. And that nothing bigger is waiting out there to try and eat us. I'm not ending my life in darkness."

Vel growls, biting her lip. "Need to get back to mistress, she needs me..."

Raz'Qui: "We will, but first we have a stampede to get out of." He would begin to look for a path out of the paniced herd and to safety from their fuzzy feet of doom.

DM62: Arturus shakes his head. "We scatter and they get one of us." Hel's able to slip his axe between two of its plates, drawing a spurt of blood from the beast, which gives out a deafening squeal. The wood elf charges forward with a shout, swinging his mace at the other leg with force magic, making it stumble and fall. The beast screams, shuffling to get to its feet in a mixture of hunger, fear, and rage.

Helvoque: The dwarf gives a bloody grin as he manages to hit into a soft spot, before really upping the stakes. With a tug on the axe handle, he pulls it free, looking for another smacking zone with the two-handed weapon and hopefully keeping that snout of his distracted on the biting pain of his blows.

Raz'Qui: "Hold on tight." He would run a few more moment to let Vel do just that before launching himself into a jump towards the slope to their right.

Vel curses, glaring over. "Are they seriously fighting it? They're lucky it's too dumb to just destroy them," she growls quietly

Raz'Qui: "You can leave them to hide from it, or go back to fight it. Though I will tell you now, I am going back."

Zyanya: "Sorry, I don't trust my odds fighting something that large and that hungry." She'd yell at the two. "Unless you two are eager to be lunch, I suggest you get your asses somewhere safe."

Vel growls a bit, "I go where mistress goes..."

Raz'Qui: "Hold on tight then." He then dashes off back towards the others, his claws kicking up dirt behind him.

DM62: Raz leaps to the right, grabbing onto the slope just a few feet from the edge of the stampede and clinging to it. A great cat with a black mane and a scar over one eye is above him on the slope, looking down mockingly. "Let's see now. Where have I seen this before? Oh yes! I remember. This is just the way my brother looked before he died." He leans in closer. "And here's my little secret... I killed Mufa-" At this point a high-leaping lapine barrels into the lion, knocking him into the herd.

Raz'Qui: (XD)

Zyanya: (...)

Helvoque: (*smacks Hope. Asshole*)

DM62: (( '3' ))

DM62: The beast gives a deafening but pitiful scream as the dwarf's axe impacts its snout. Hel's axe doesn't get past the plate, and his hands are slightly bruised from the force of the blow. But the beast is more hurt and scared then angry now. Especially since Irena is herself three stories tall now, snarling at the beast. The snurfler gives another pained mewl, running off in the opposite direction.

Vel sighs. "...Always forget magic. Magic, the great equaliser," she whispers.

Raz'Qui skids to a halt eventually by the others and stands up. He then grabs Vel by the waist and sets her down next to her mistress.

Vel: "I am glad you are okay, mistress," she whispers.

Helvoque: The dwarf gives a bit of a cackle as it runs away. "Hah! You big pansy! Run back and get stuck in a cave or something!" the dwarf catcalls, waving his axe with his good hand and shaking the other to get the sting out of it.

Raz'Qui quirks an eyebrow at the chimera's concern. "Huh...." He then glanced to the others curiously. "You all alright?"

Zyanya: "I...I give up. I'll never understand the suicidal tendencies of some of the other races." The shiriti practically threw up her hands at this point and the illusion only made it more evident. "Least she was smart about it. I'd rather we've done that first then trying to slap a hungry predator away from it's dinner."

DM62: Irena dismisses the illusion. "It was scared even before my illusion. Large, stupid creatures can easily be confused and frightened by smaller ones. Especially when pain's involved."

Thrae: "....Sometimes I wonder why our kinds live down here. I mean really." Thrae said back to Vel. Though at least no one had been run over by the creatures.

Vel shrugs. "Danger is everywhere. the surface is no different, mistress. Let us continue?"

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Sixth Session, 29 October (part three, nineteen decapitated heads, one head still attached to owner, a fake head, a ruse discovered)

Spoiler

DM62: The rest of the return journey passes uneventfully, and it's not long before the party is once more standing before the Webhunter palace. Guards look down from atop the citadel's battlements. "You folks complete your mission, then?"

Vel would be rebound and gagged before rearriving.

Raz'Qui glanced up at the palace warily, a deep frown on his face.

Helvoque: The dwarf nods at the guards. "Aye," came the simple reply.

DM62: The guard nods, and the web-covered gates swing open. Twelve guards move forward to escort the party into the keep. One of them, a tall under elf female, gives them a nod. "Right. Follow me, then. The Matron will want to thank you for your efforts."

Raz'Qui nods and follows along.

Zyanya was relieved to be away from the madness outside civilization, rather eager to finish their dealings in the underlands and move on to much brighter places.

Vel follows Thrae in.

Thrae headed in.

DM62: The Webhunter matron is seated upon the throne, a few hooded figures sitting in chairs on either side of her, their faces hidden. She nods as the guards bring the party. "Guard Captain. Stay. All the other guards may leave us." Only the tall under elf female stays with the group, laying out a thick hide blanket in front of the party. The matron eyes the party for a moment. "Right. Twenty heads was the deal, I think? On the blanket, please. Let's avoid a mess."

Vel glances to her mistress who's carrying the live one, knowing they had 19 right now.

Raz'Qui stands in the back calmly waiting for now.

DM62: The figure in the chair left of the matron shifts, and the matron speaks up again. "Is there a problem?" Clark and Arturus move forward, shaking out nineteen heads onto the blanket. The hooded figure shifts again, and the matron speaks up. "Alright... nineteen so far. And... who's the bound drider? A Webhunter?"

Zyanya wasn't fully involved with the collection of the heads but she knew they only had 19 and she wondered just how the matron would react as a result. Maybe she'd go easy on them."

Helvoque: The dwarf seemed to fume slightly, swearing the count required was much lower than this before. Either they'd be tricked prior with the count or someone decided to throw fate at them. He crosses his arms and stays silent.

Thrae: "Yes, she was one of the leaders of the bandits. We were hoping she'd have some information before we added her head to the pile. Unfortunately she has yet to wake up so I suspect she may be braindead at this point." Thrae said, trying to shrug the drider off her and to the ground.

DM62: The matron raises an eyebrow, then the hooded figure taps her, whispering. The matron waits, then speaks. "Very well. We're all curious why one of ours would join the bandits. We can accept a head attached to a living body. And, providing you manage to recruit one other major house, we will support your side in this war."

Raz'Qui interest was pigued at the mention of war.

Zyanya: Good. That was one less concern out of her mind and no doubt the mind of the other members of the party. "I can't imagine that will be that difficult."

DM62: The hooded figure nods, whispering to the matron again. The matron turns to the other hooded figure (on her other side). "Go ahead." Hooded figure number two rises, moving toward the party with a round crimson sack. The figure holds it out to the party. The matron speaks up. "Someone told me that you needed a matron head. Or at least a convincing fake."

Vel wasn't surprised in the least on that one. Why leave something to chance after all? It was in Lora's best interest to ensure that if they did decide against helping her that they disappeared in an prewarned assassination gone wrong. Glad it worked out.

Thrae would nod. "Indeed we do matron. It will help us secure that second major house support we need."

Zyanya: "Well, I can't say I'm surprised you prepared for this eventuality. Everyone seems to know everything around here. But we thank you for the offering and hope that we can do business again."

DM62: The hooded figure murmurs something to the matron, who nods. "We understand that the matron of a certain family has asked for our head. The fake in that bag won't convince them forever... but it should get you close to the other matron. Do you... understand?"

Zyanya: "I think I understand, Matron."

DM62: "Very well then. We thank you for your help. Good luck... 'convincing' the other houses to cooperate." The matron nods. Hooded figure number two moves back to be seated again.

Raz'Qui would start for the exit seeing that what ever business with the matron was now concluded.

DM62: The guard captain has the door opened, and walks with the party out of the throne room. The other eleven guards are waiting outside, escorting the party out of the palace.

Vel follows after Thrae. Well, course commited now it seemed.

Zyanya: "So now what? We have the head and we can bring it to the other house now. Or do we have some other plan in mind for all of this?"

Raz'Qui would speak once they were away from the palace. "Yes, what is the plan now?" He glances over to his employer as well.

Hel gives a long sigh. "Looks like we're wrapped up in this web now, like it or not..." he grumbles.

DM62: Jenna raises an eyebrow. "If the Orbweaver matron discovers that we've given her a fake... then they'll withdraw their support for the humans, elves, and dwarves. Rather immediately. The head isn't meant to finish off that quest. Just to get us close."

Thrae honestly thought this was a better plan then what they had today. As atleast with this one they had someone in position to get them the support with that house after they did there thing. Though assassinating the orbweaver matron was going to be....difficult probably. "We go back to the orbweavers."

Raz'Qui: "And the matron's request?"

DM62: Clark Gable gives a surprised laugh. "We're taking down... you're serious? Hoho... I might need more than a kiss, beautiful woman."

Vel removes her gag herself once they were away from public. "We kill the mistress of mistresses. The head to get close. then we crush her and kill all witnesses and escape. Mistress of mistress daughter will hopefully agree to alliance on her own but to keep public support she may have to send guards after us to eliminate us for being foreign assassins."

DM62: Jenna nods, whispering to Raz. "The Orbweaver matron requested that we bring her the head of the Webhunter matron, in exchange for supporting our side in the war. Then her daughter, Lora Orbweaver, approached us. She offered her house's full support... if we kill the current matron, her mother. And now the Webhunters seem to be in on Lora's plan, somehow."

Vel shrugs. Vel thinks this Lora may not even be real. We've never seen her. She might jsut be an Orbweaver agent. "Vel also thinks it does not matter now. We don't have real head. We either do this, or we try to find the house nobody can find."

Raz'Qui: "Well seems like you all have a choice to make." He glanced to his employer. "Take it you still want me on if you go with them? Though I think we will need to renegotiate price if we are about to do something so risky."

Zyanya: "So either way, we're going to be killing the matron and most likely getting support of the house from her now empowered daughter. Honestly, I feel like one way or the other we're going to be leaving here much faster than we arrived." The comment from Clark however only caused her to sigh. "We'll talk about it later."

Thrae: "We should probably stop talking about this." Thrae whispered very quietly but harshly toward Jenna, Raz and Zyanya.

Zyanya: "RIght. Secrets and spies and all that."

Vel whispers, I would not be surprised if mistress of mistresses is not already aware. Nothing happens without all houses watching. We might even just be a distraction. All we do now is play the pawns in the plots of predators. As is natural.

DM62: Jenna shrugged. "Only said what was necessary. Can't have them walk in clueless." At this point the party nears the Orbweaver palace. A lone guard is standing out front, while other guards look down from the battlements above. The lone figure speaks. "Our agents report that the Webhunters are in something of a disarray. I assume you've brought something for the Matron?"

Vel moves up front with the bag, having re-gagged herself before arrival.

Thrae: "Indeed we have." Thrae said to the lone guard. In all honestly, she was nervous, thanks to all the danger that was with this, but she didn't let it show.

DM62: The figure is hooded, wearing Orbweaver robes. It raises a hand in a gesture to the guards up top, and the palace entrance opens. "Follow me, then." It leads them into the palace, through two courtyards and then into an obsidian hallway.

Zyanya remained silent, letting the people who knew this game better do the talking lest she say something stupid or incriminating."

Vel follows Thrae through, both set of eyes studying her surroundings for hidden snipers and possible escape routes.

Raz'Qui frowned and followed them in. "Cable, we definitely need to renegotiate my fee later."

DM62: Clark Gable looks at the dragonkin, amused. "They could barely afford me as it is. We only hired you for the bandit-killing--you'll have to consult these lovely people for further compensation."

Raz'Qui sighed and nodded.

Thrae would be less looking around then Vel, but her eyes did flit around a bit as she looked out for any dangers. Mainly though she was focused on the hooded figure, looking for the fiigure trying to turn onn them at any moment.

Hel is quiet, looking a tad sour but that could easily be for other reasons if someone hadn't been moving with them. He keeps a hand close to his hammer no matter what, however.

DM62: Finally, the party enters a grand throne room, all gold and obsidian. The self-titled Queen of the Under Lands is seated atop the high dais again, but flanked by guards this time. Twelve under elves, spears in hand, stand around the throne room at periodic points. The matron wears a small silver web tiara, and is playing with the dagger in her hand. She looks at the party a big hungrily. The hooded figure holds up a hand to the party. "Wait here a moment." It turns to approach the dais, kneeling at the first step.

Helvoque: The fact that everyone was well-armed did not make Hel's mood ease. He stiffens, if anything.

Raz'Qui hmms to himself a moment as he stops. He was really beginning to not like this place. He much perfered the enemy in his face and blade in hand then hidden in the dark with a blade behind them.

Zyanya: Not the situation she wanted to walk into but they were only heavily armed. They weren't heavily armed and pointing their weapons at them. They were just guards doing their job after all. No need to get so paranoid so quickly. Of course, that didn't mean Zyanya wouldn't be on a swivle and ready in the event something happened.

Thrae took it in stride, there were always guards around here. Though she did consider if things went to shit, she could probably chain lightning everyone in the room.

DM62: The guards next to the throne watch the party suspiciously, neither of them carring any weapons or wearing any armor, but dressed in plain gray robes. The matron gestures impatiently to the hooded escort, who rises to approach the throne, whispering to the matron. She nods, smiling to the party. "I understand you brought me a gift." Her smile deepens. "A false one. Kill them." The guards move to encircle the party, spears in hand, as the gray-robed guards move to block the view of the throne, weaving patterns in the air.

Raz'Qui lets out a quick curse before swiftly drawing his blade and leaping towards the robed guards. His massive blade a swinging.

Helvoque: The dwarf hisses in anger as he readies his shield. "Remind me again why Magni wished for this lot to live!" he growls, readying the hammer to parse the spears and smash faces.

Thrae throws out her lightning, aiming toward the gray robed guards. She did not like what they might be up to and aimed to atlest disturb what they were doing.

Vel thought as much. Of course they knew. She was expecting that, why she was watching for snipers. Still, the snipers were either really good or they weren't present. A blunder if there was some. She decided on her best course from here. For now she stuck near Thrae as she slipped out of her bonds. Keep her safe, until a clearing went. She was, after all, of little threat or consequence... Once she could slip into the side lines though...

Zyanya had a feeling this would happen. Taking her new spear, the Shiriti wasted no time finding a target amongst the guards. She'd lunge quickly at the underelf, believing she could slip through the defenses of the more armored guard. Armor only slowed you down.

DM62: The guards work quickly, and a shield springs up around the dais. Raz'Qui's blade bounces off of a force shield, while the other guard draws a dagger, moving swiftly around the shield to threaten the dragonkin. The guard facing off against Hel is a force spellblade, using the extra power to strike at him... only for the force to rebound against the user upon striking the black metal shield. She falls back with a crunching sound. The lightning blast catches the gray robed guard behind the force shield, who grunts in pain, grimly standing her ground. A spear scratches Vel, missing anything vital as the chimera's movements throw off the attack. Meanwhile, Zyanya's thrust strikes the front of a guard's breastplate... stabbing through it like butter, impaling the guard and bringing forth a geyser of blood. Another spear thrusts at Zyanya, slicing her leg, but not badly.

Vel grimaces as her side is slashed, bleeding a bit. Armored guard. She had little means to hurt him. Still, spears had weaknesses. She ducked aside the next jab and tackled herself at his shins, hoping to trip him over long enough to get clear.

Thrae was rather surprised that the guard was still standing. Instead she aimed a shard of ice at same guard. The drider hoping to cut through one of thee armor instead of relying on lightning to stop there hearts.

Raz'Qui smirks a moment as he blade is repulsed. Rather then try to manuever the massive thing around, his other hand grips the foot of leather above the guard and swings the hilt around to intercept the elf's dagger. He then thrust his sword behind him at anything that might have been sneaking up behind him. Grinning, he unleashed a roar to draw the attention of those surrounding him.

Hel's eyes narrow as he sees the magic reflected by the shield. "So that's it..." he mumbles, before laughing a bit. "Well then, unknown kinsman, you'll just what I was hoping for!" With a mad cackle he charges into the melee, going to cut a bloody swath through the guards. He had only one primary goal- get that shield to that defensive shield to break it.

Zyanya: She was honestly amazed the spear was this effective. The guard might as well have been naked given how easily it went through. However, her revelry was short lived as another guard hit her leg. A small cut to be sure but she'd have to pay them back for the favor. Letting out a war cry, she'd rush the offender, aiming another thrust through the shoulder to incapacitate her opponent.

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Sixth Session, 29 October (part four, two dead matrons, an offer considered, a chance to rest)

Spoiler

DM62: Vel trips her opponent successfully, sending her to the ground with a grunt. Thrae's shard rips through the guard, and Raz'Qui's attacks take out a gray-robed figure and another of the guards. Hel batters through the force shield, shattering it with the black metal shield. The Shiriti manages to skewer another guard, and then there's a calm but loud voice above the violence. "That's quite enough. Guards, lower your weapons. Your matron commands it." Confused guards warily back away from the party, turning their heads slightly to see what's going on at the throne.

Vel smirks, and uses the chaos to reposition herself to the side near the Dais. One of three things had happened. Lora just offed the matron, the foxgirl was illusioning up some distractions again, or something she hadn't thought of. But on the chance it was the second, she was getting ready to come up and finish the job.

Helvoque: With himself just a few hairs from braining one of the mages, Hel manages to slow his blow before it was a light tap of his hammer, though it still probably knocked the poor sap out like a light.

Raz'Qui returns his blade to a position in front of him self, his eyes warily watching the guards a moment before glances up towards the throne. His blade and body tensing with readiness should someone try something else. His face lit up with a massive tooth showing grin at being able to enjoy a fight with his blade.

Thrae held another static charge between her hands, the electricity crackling with power as she waited to see what was happening.

DM62: The figure next to the matron has pulled back her hood, revealing a female under elf with a trickly of blood running from her fanged smile. She grasps a handful of the matron's hair, holding her up, two fang marks in the matron's neck. The figure speaks. "Go on. Tell them who I am. Tell them... my name... mother." The matron weakly struggles, and the figure tightens her grip. "TELL THEM." Her voice is more of a command, and the mother speaks weakly. "Lora... Lora Orbweaver. But... you were... dead."

Vel stares. Welp. She wasn't sure what just happened but she definitely did not want any of the dark magic that was at work over there. Biting controll-y thing... Yeah nope, she headed back over by Thrae protectively.

Helvoque: "...Blumbing hell..." the dwarf stammers. This was the sort of creature that no dwarven records had. This was a beast that wasn't even spoke in their horror stories. Just what new spore of madness was this?!?

Raz'Qui was taken by surprise by this turn of events, he was also a little saddened his blade wouldn't be getting more use this night, or day. It was hard to tell without the sky above him. "Huh...."

Thrae watched with fascination, really. Lora looked like she had the situation well in hand, and the blood on the elves teeth didn't really throw her off as her kind was not exactly unknown to such practices. Though she did wonder what kind of magic had given the elf such an appearance and strength.

DM62: "Technically speaking? I am dead. But I've been given... a new lease on life." The vampiric under elf leans in, sinking her fangs back into her mother, who flails weakly and then is still. Lora tosses the corpse of her mother to the foot of the dais, sitting on the throne. "Guards. Move back. These people are my honored guests." The surviving guards move back to the outskirts of the room, clearly shaken. The new matron smiles. "Thank you. Please, approach. I am grateful for your help, and I intend to keep my promise." She crosses her legs, looking quite composed and refreshed.

Zyanya: She'd heard stories of these bloodsuckers, bt Zyanya had never seen one herself. Honestly, she wasn't surprised they could thrive in this sort of environment. Always dark, sole means of survival was deception and trickery and what creature was better? "I must say, I'm not surprised. Excellent. Much as I wish you had mentioned this earlier, I won't complain about the assistance you offer us now. We're greatful you arrived when you did."

Vel moves when Thrae was though her body language was definetly not of one who wanted to get close to her or that she liked what she saw. An undead of some kind clearly. She looked at Jenna questioningly.

Raz'Qui frowned deeply a moment before cleaning off his blade on the felled robed guard and sheathing it on his back.

Helvoque: "You're not surprised?!?" The dwarf splutters a bit, eyes narrowed at the beast. "I don't think there's a thing in dwarven tongue for such a creature..." Much like Vel, he turned a gaze towards Jenna as if to ask the necromancer if she had seen such a creature.

Thrae continued to look rather intrigued, and she certainly didn't mind that the guards were called off as a result. She'd look over at Vel, and try to signal that she could stay here if she wanted. Thrae wasn't going to stay back though. Letting the electricity fade away, she stepped up toward where Lora was. "That was a pretty timely arrive you had Matron."

Vel sure as hell was not letting Thrae go up there alone.

Zyanya: "There's always something else. Always. I've learned this much in my tme here. Nothing is as it seems and this little reveal hardly comes as a surprise from a race that has to prepare for every eventuality."

DM62: "Don't be too grateful, my dear. I betrayed you to my mother, so that you could distract the guards long enough for me to destroy her. I was the hooded figure who met you at the gate." The matron smiles at the group. Jenna murmurs, "Vampire. Looks like a greater one," to Hel.

Vel figured as much. She clearly had a grudge and wanted to do the deed herself. And to ensure she was the proper heir once more. Why not.

Helvoque: The dwarf nods slowly, a vauge memory of human folklore sparking towards his mind as he focuses back at the vampire herself. "Suppose it works, in the end..." he admits, giving a shrug. "You got your crown, and the Webhunters got their bandits dropped."

Raz'Qui frowned still as she crossed his arms, waiting to see if this matron would let them leave or if they would need to kill her and her guards as well.

Thrae: "And now we have enough support to change the underlands treaties with the orks." Thrae added. She was still looking at the results of Lora's coup, and still seemed rather intrigued at the idea. Coming back from the dead sounded rather useful a skill to have in her home land.

DM62: Lora nods. "And I've agreed to let the Webhunter Matron call herself Spider Queen, in exchange for her support. I won't stand in her way. As for your war... the Darkrazors seem to have declared for you, along with the Webhunters. And I'll ensure that the Orbweavers back you as well. Warchief Malgra will be finding out... well, quite soon, I should think." She smiles. "I will have you escorted through the Spiderbloom by a hidden path, one that will bring you out in the southeastern part of the Braxilian territories. And I've also got a gift for one of you, if any of you desire it. Shall I tell you what it is?"

Raz'Qui shook his head, not wishing to have any gift from her. No telling what strings might be attached.

Thrae was wondering when they got the Darkrazors on their side. Though Thrae was interested at the gift. She thought she might have an idea. "What would this gift be Matron?"

DM62: "The Crimson Kiss. Vampirism. It would create a special bond between me and the recipient... but also great power, and a certain level of immortality." She smiles seductively at the drider. "I never considered giving it to a drider. But now I rather like the idea."

Vel was immediately sent alarm bells into her brain. Oh gods no, Thrae, surely she taught her better than this. She looked to Jenna, praying she'd speak up, warn her, say something. She'd never felt more helpless than this moment. She could throw it all out now and doom them both are stare and watch as Thrae gave herself away...

Raz'Qui shook his head once more. "Not something I want." He was not a fan of tainting his kin's blood with some so unnatural.

Hel shakes his head as well. "Immortality is a fickle curse of it's own, lass. I will politely decline. Plenty of years ahead for this old beard."

DM62: Jenna softly strokes Vel, nodding. "Thrae, is this something you're interested in? I know it's a great opportunity, but it's a rather permanent thing. I'm not telling you to say no... but consider it carefully before you decide."

Zyanya: "Same. I would rather not return home and be worried about the potential stigma something like this carries. I apologize, but I will have to decline."

Thrae had to admit, the idea of being able to come back from the dead was very intriguing already, on top of immortality. The small power fantasy that was coming through her mind was more or less blinding her to Vel's discomfort. She did manage to hear Jenna's comments though, probably because she was the resident undead expert. With immortality and such, she could become a matron for sure, and her and Vel could do whatever they wanted. "I must admit, I'm interested." From what she could see, it looked like she wouldn't even look much different. Since she already had fangs and the like.

DM62: "Interested, hm?" The matron looks at Thrae. Then at Jenna. Then at Vel. She pauses, regarding the chimera calmly. Then she sighs, waving a hand. "Rest here tonight. You look tired. And dirty. And bloodied. Bathe, eat, and sleep. Speak with your companions. Enjoy one last night among the living. And then, if you decide you wish to accept my offer, come before my throne again." She gestures to the least-injured guard. "Show them to quarters. The ones we reserve for visiting nobles."

DM62: The guard looks like he's going to argue the point about the noble rooms... but thinks better of it, nodding to the matron. He turns to the party. "If you'll follow me?"

Vel internally grimaces. Fuck. She lost her cool again. This was going worse and worse...

Raz'Qui would give a small nod waiting for the guard to lead the way.

Thrae would bow. "Okay then Matron. Thank you for offering us lodging." With that she'd turn, and notice Vel's expression...She might be in for a talking to this evening...

Hel would nod in return, shifting the shield to his back and his hammer to his side as he follows.

DM62: The guard guides the party through resplendent obsidian passages to opulent quarters, where scantily-clad under elves are drawing hot baths for the party. The guard nods. "Anything in these quarters, from the beds to the baths, from the food to the... entertaining workers... are at your disposal. Please, make yourselves at home."

Vel follows Thrae, mentally cursing wildly. She stuck by Thrae forwhatever she considered.

Helvoque: The dwarf snorts at the suggestion of using the ladies, but otherwise stays quiet. Instead, he sits on a free step, looking over the strange black shield with the eye of a jeweler examining a fresh new gem

DM62: It's a nondescript, round shield for the most part, with an unknown house sigil on the front and a maker's mark next to the grip. Despite the shield's apparent age, it doesn't appear to have very many scrapes or even signs of real wear.

Raz'Qui looks about the room curiously a moment before letting his gear down into one of the corners. He then approached the others and looked them over each in turn. "Seems you may need someone of my skills if your set on this war I hear talk of. But my aid isn't free."

Helvoque: The dwarf uses what limited tools he has at his disposal to test it- the edge of his axe, his hammer, one of his gilding coins from his side, heat of a candle--looking for anything that seemed to leave a lasting impression. The metal seemed familiar--the cursed nullmetal, a material that has drived many dwarven cities to shape around it instead of through it due to it's unnatural hardness- but if it was so, how did someone forge it? What was the family crest and mark from? This was all questions running through his head as he worked.

DM62: The dwarves have found nullmetal ore before... tough ore that won't bend except under the most extreme pressure, and that even the Magmahammer itself can barely heat. Hel has never heard of anyone managing to work the metal before. The "entertaining workers" leave the party to their privacy, unless someone requests their services.

Zyanya breathed a sigh of relief. The fighting was over, the underelves were won over and they'd be heading into territory that was brighter and maybe easier to deal with politically. But, she learned many interesting lessons here. But the prospect of a bath and a hot meal was worth anything at this point.

Thrae: Well, this was a very nice place to get, and she had to admit the baths were looking interesting, but she figured that she should probably talk to Vel first. Still, she really wanted a bath. Either way she'd glance at Vel, checking to see if the Chimera had an idea of where to talk, preferably soon, otherwise she'd go take a bath well it was still warm.

DM62: Jenna stands near Vel, stroking her fur softly. "Thrae, I don't think Vel likes the idea of a vampiric mistress." The orc warrior and minotaur captive are taken to slightly less extravagant quarters, where they're allowed to bathe, surrounded by armed guards.

Helvoque: "Well blast me through the Deeper Tunnels..." Hel mumbles, rubbing his beard. This little marvel of a shield would require examination whenever he returned to his kingdom's holds--it was clearly of the Nullmetal, with craftmanship that was beyond even them. He quietly slides it to the side, giving a bit of a yawn from the excitement he's found himself under all these days.

Vel nods as she's petted, at Jenna's comment. She look about for a private location she could actually convey herself. Maybe Jenna could back her up on it.

Thrae would look at Jenna. "Yes, I kinda figured that, but the potential of it..."

DM62: Thrae and Jenna and Vel can easily find a private bathing area.

DM62: The human smuggler chuckles, stepping naked into a bath near Zyanya. He's lean and muscular, with several battle scars on his body. He holds up a soapy sponge. "Can I offer the pretty Shiriti lady a hand with her bath?"

Raz'Qui would frown a moment after being ignored and wander off towards one of the bathing area, hoping to wash the grim and blood from his scales.

Thrae: Settling down into the part of the bath where it was relatively private. Thrae would look at Vel, obviously expecting the Chimera to start the conversation.

Vel heads over. Once they are alone, she inhales. "Potential, sure. Great. Except you're talking about binding yourself to someone else. You're putting your life and mind in her hands. She'll have your loyalty but do you have hers? I doubt it. A useful pawns still a pawn. She's offering power in exchange for your bondage," whispers Vel furiously as she sits beside the water, starting to lick herself clean.

Zyanya: "Forward as you are, I can't say no to such an offer." The shiriti undressed, removing the armbands for the first time this whole trip. It would be a shame if those got wet and potentialy damaged. She'd step into the water, sitting down if she was able to. "If I may say, you have a great deal of scars. Must be quite the experienced warrior. Or the luckiest fool."

DM62: The kitsune, Irena, slips into the bath near the dragonkin. "Maybe you'd be interested in a full-time position with our organization? I've been authorized to... make you an offer." She smiles at the male seductively.

Hel and his quiet musing is soon topless and in one of the beds, with his nreastplate and mail set close at hand.

Raz'Qui: "What sort of organization?" Eyeing the tricky fox girl having had his fair share of her kind among the centuries.

Thrae: "Is it really that bad though? Immortality and being able to regenerate from fatal wounds. I'd be too valuable to be disposed of easy, and if I'm bound to the woman then she'd have no reason to remove me, just move me into powerful positions."

DM62: Jenna rubs some soap into her hands, them leans in to start scrubbing the suds into the chimera's fur gently. "A fair point. There'd be a certain give-and-take there. But on the other hand, you'd never grow old. Immortality is a double-edged sword."

DM62: The male smuggler moves close to Zyanya. "Why does it have to be one or the other? Most experienced warriors are lucky fools. Though these never feel lucky when you get them." He nods at his scars with a smirk.

DM62: Meanwhile, the kitsune draws close to the dragonkin. "I'm a fourth-tier operative with a smuggling organization... the one that recently hired you on a short-term basis? Though we actually deal in information and specialists. For example, 'Rynil' is our expert on egg production and kidnapping. Hence her safeguards to inform us in the event that she was kidnapped herself. She said it was a 1 in 3 chance. Guess she was unlucky." She shrugs, starting to bathe the muscular dragonkin.

Raz'Qui doesn't object as she begins to wash his scales clean of dirt and blood. He takes a moment to look her over as well as consider her offer. "And what is it you would be hiring me on for?"

Vel: "Thrae I raised you to know better. Never assume you are irreplaceble or valuable to your betters. What makes her unable to turn more than you? What makes you more than a pawn?," grimaces Vel, "There's no out-living your mistress to old age, no chance at freedom or rebellion. You will be bound beyond life and death. Moreover you are going to be dead. No more eggs, no more of any of that...," grunts Vel

Zyanya: "Maybe I just haven't seen enough men like yourself to be a good judge of that phrase. I fear the day my body is a canvas of my victories and defeats." She runs her hands down her body, the sides and stomach specificaly. "Though by then I'll most likely be leading my tribe."

DM62: The kitsune smiles. "Well, as muscle, mostly. Your first priority will be to defend the operative currently operating under the name 'Clark Gable.' Ridiculous name. Last month he was 'Thomas Cruise.' But he's third-tier, so he outranks me. Second priority will be keeping me safe. Third priority will be to assist this band in defeating Malgra's Crusade. A single overlord over all the civilized lands would cut into our profit margins. We can't have that."

DM62: Jenna continues to scrub Vel, using a lavender-smelling shampoo on her fur, but staying out of the conversation for the moment.

DM62: The smuggler chuckles. "Of that I have no doubt. I think you'll be a formidable chieftain." He brushes Zyanya's hair off of a shoulder, beginning to bathe her gently with the sponge in his hand. Zyanya can tell by the growing shape in the water that he's becoming aroused.

Vel makes a face as she's scubbed. "Shampoo tastes icky," she complains

DM62: "So don't eat it, Vel." Jenna chuckles.

Thrae: "But kids were only a small maybe anyways Vel...And if we could live forever does it really matter..." Thrae would say, keeping her abdomen a bit out of the water to avoid having breathing issues. "But ya Jenna you know more about vampires. What can you tell us about them?"

Vel: "I clean with my tongue, this isn't needed!," she growls, "If you, if you could live forever. Not me, Thrae. The offers for you."

Raz'Qui considers it a long moment, pondering his options. After a moment, he gives her a small nod. "Alright, though I do expect to be paid, though unlike Gable, something of a more monetary nature."

Thrae: "Right, meant I." Thrae would say, lookiing sheepish for a moment before looking at Jenna again.

DM62: Jenna smiles. "Vampires live forever, as long as they don't get killed. They're weaker in bright sunlight, though that cloak you got would help with that a great deal, Thrae. They have to consume blood regularly, but they're also much stronger. Some of them can compel obedience through their voice alone. They're weak against fire, especially during the day. They can turn into a mist, or an animal form, at will. They can be killed through decapitation or a stake in the heart. And they grow more powerful... and more invulnerable... as they grow older." She uses water to rinse off Vel.

Zyanya: "I hope so. I hope so. I have quite a name to live up to. Hopefully this time out in the world will give me enough experience and world knowledge to be useful." She'd allow herself to be cleaned, the Shiriti quite relaxed and enjoying the pampering. Though she could see that he was starting to enjoy the fact he was bathing with a nude tribeswoman. "Sir, you seem quite excited about something. Does my form please you?"

Vel sputters and shakes herself off, making a face. "Blagh! My tongues more than adequate, now I look all stupid and ugly and my bits are showing..."

DM62: "If you have to ask, my beautiful lady, then you haven't been paying attention." The smuggler leans in to plant a soft kiss on the Shiriti's neck, his deft hands running smoothly over her feminine body.

Thrae: They all sounded like advantages really, and she couldn't help but giggle a little bit at Vel's response to getting washed. "Vel, those really don't seem to bad...I mean yes, I may be bound to Lora, but with power like that it would be easy to become a matron myself..."

Vel: "Great, you get to be Lora's pet Matron. Is that what you want then?"

Thrae: "Well I doubt I'd ever get to become Queen regardless, but if Lora becomes Queen again then our house could become a great house through that connection alone."

((end of session))

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Seventh Session, 5 November (prologue, a crimson kiss, Thrae becomes a vampire)

Spoiler

DM62: Thrae wakes in the middle of the night. Vel has already passed out, and is purring softly in her sleep, with a single arm wrapped around her mistress. She had argued the point until she fell asleep. The rest of the party is sleeping, except Jenna, who's leaning up against a pillar. She had left Vel and Thrae after the evening's discussion to smut the dwarf, but now she stood alone, quietly watching the drider.

Thrae hadn't had the greatest sleep, arguing all evening with her surrogate mother did not make for a very calming evening after all. Either way waking up in the middle of the night was not very unexpected, atleast compared to Jenna staring at her and Vel as they slept. How Vel hadn't noticed her was a rather serious question, but either way she quietly, so as to avoid waking Vel, said. "You know, watching people as they sleep could be considered threatening.”

DM62: The gnome shrugs. "Sorry. I was curious whether or not you'd be accepting the matron's offer. Also, I occasionally have difficulty sleeping." She tilts her head. "Have you come to a decision, yet?"

Thrae: Disintangling herself from Vel, Thrae would stand up and stretch a bit. "Well...I think I'm going to...Though is there anything more you can tell me about what's going to happen?" It was rather obvious Thrae was looking for something to put down the few niggling doubts that Vel had managed to implant in her.

DM62: "Well, she's likely to drain you until you're at the point of death. Then she'll feed you her own blood. Once you've got more of her blood in your veins than yours, you'll be reborn as a vampire. And you two will be bonded, forever. It doesn't make either of you subservient to the other... but you will feel each other's strong emotions, especially pain. And you'll be able to find each other. Within a mile of one another, you'll even be able to share thoughts."

Thrae let out a bit of a sigh of relief, Vel had been convinced about the subservient thing, but Jenna was the local expert, and Thrae could hope the gnome wouldn't try to deliberately screw her over. Though that first bit didn't sound to fun. "Well, getting drained near dry doesn't sound to great, but the potential benefits are enough that I'm going to accept. I just wish some would take it better..."

DM62: Jenna chuckles. "Do what you want. Fuck the judgement of others." She points to the small tattoo on her forehead. "You see this mark? My interest in necromancy has made my own people brand me as an exile. An outcast. They will never accept me. My own father flung me from my home village." Then she smirks. "Of course, if I'm the mother of a dwarven heir, I'll have a higher place in society than I started with... but I'd trade all of that to pursue my interests."

Thrae looked at the tattoo, and listened intently to Jenna's words. Her tired state mixed with the decision she was making was ensuring she listened to anything relevant. "Hmmm..." Thrae sighed again and slumped her shoulders for a moment before straightening out. "You're right. With this and..." Thrae rolled her hand over, not planning to mention their eldritch supporter. "I'm almost sure I can make a matron myself eventually, and I don't mind being an important second fiddle to a hopeful future Queen." Thrae realized she might have said more then she probably should have. "Ahh...Sorry about that, I just needed someone to say that to."

DM62: Jenna smiles. "My dear... if my time down here has taught me one thing, it's that even the title of Spider Queen can be just an illusion. The real Power down here remains unnamed, unheard-of, un-praised. And that Power... favors you. So don't worry about these under elves and their titles. Let them play at petty politics. Be patient and do what a smart spider does. Spin your web."

Thrae smiled back. "Yes, and with all these support threads it'll be a strong web indeed. Now though I guess I should go see my donor, before anyone else wakes up and think about giving me grief. Thanks for the chat."

DM62: The gnome nods, moving back to snuggle with the sleeping chimera. The palace is silent as a crypt as the drider makes her way down to the throneroom. In the massive onyx chamber, there are three figures on the throne. Lora is seated in the middle, and two naked female under elves are writhing in her arms as she feeds upon them each in turn. Behind the new matron stands her mother, who seems to have recently been turned. The mother starts in alarm as she spots the drider. "Mistress," she warns. Matron Lora Orbweaver continues feeding on one of the females, but her eyes move up to regard the drider.

Thrae had to admit this was not the scene she was expecting, nor was she expecting Lora's mother to have been actually turned. The thought of that actually worried her somewhat as it brought back the worry about being dominated by the link. Though she was in for a pound now. She wasn’t entirely sure just how polite or relaxed she could be right now, so she decided to be polite and wait for Lora to finish her feeding and address her first. She had just been told to show up before the throne after all, not say any special passcode or the like.

DM62: Lora finishes feeding for a moment, looking at the drider with a small, bloody smile. "Awww... the drider is being shy, now." She chuckles. "You are concerned about the nature of this gift?" She looks back at her mother. "There are those to whom the gift can be a curse. My mother tried to betray me... so I only gave her enough blood to bring her back as my slave. You... you have a certain destiny about you. You will be powerful, one day. As I intend to be. I would have us share such greatness."

Thrae: Well that was a bit relieving, though not enough to fully remove her worries. Still, she couldn't pass up this opportunity. Looking back at Lora, and not being thrown off by the bloody smile just like she hadn't been thrown off before. "I see, and yes I must admit it has been the biggest worry I've had about this. Though as you can probably tell I'm accepting." Thrae could probably speak better, but between how little sleep she had gotten, and the nervousness that came to everyone on the verge of a major decision, her vocabulary suffered a bit.

DM62: The vampire nods. "Ladies... prepare her." The two under elf women move away from the throne to flank Thrae, helping her to remove any articles of clothing and gear that she might be wearing. Then Lora gestures. "Come to me, my dear. I will make this as painless as possible... but there will be some pain. And then you will know pleasure as only a creature of the night can know it."

Thrae let the under elves remove her clothing, what little of it she had on her as she didn't sleep in much. Once she was naked she didn't look shy or embarrassed, the drider wasn't one to be too worry about her own nakedness. Stepping up to Lora she said, "I look forward to it." and waited to see how the vampire would go about this, not wanting to do anything wrong.

DM62: Lora is naked herself, legs spread on the throne. She giggles. "Come here and kiss me, lovely girl." The vampire gestures the drider, crooking her finger.

Thrae: Stepping up further she did flush a little bit now, she hadn't actually had sex with much if at all outside of Vel. Well her own nudity wasn't the problem it was more Lora's, along with what might just happen. Once she reached the throne she'd lean in and kiss Lora. Her moves a bit tentative to start, though they'd pick up in confidence as Lora responded.

DM62: The under elf vampire presses her lips to Thrae's eagerly, kissing her warmly. Her skin is rather warm, actually, though Thrae suspects that might be due to her having recently fed. Lora's supple fingers slide over the drider's body, teasing her. A hand slips over her breast, teasing her left nipple.

Thrae responded in kind, deepening the kiss as her hands starting to wander over the Lora. The aim of their wander focusing first on the under elf's breasts, before one hand started to wander down toward Lora's petals. If she wasn't stopped then Thrae would lightly run over the vampiress' lower entrance, her hands a bit untrained as she usually was tied up when during sex.

DM62: Lora purrs as the drider's fingers slip over her sex. She kisses along Thrae's neck... then suddenly she sinks the fangs in, and Thrae can feel Lora beginning to drink. There's something... sexual... exotic... about being penetrated and fed upon in such a manner. Lora's arms wrap around the drider softly, but with an alien strength.

Thrae wasn't expecting the fangs, but the feeling of her blood being drained from her proved surprisingly a lot more sexual then painful. A slight moan escaping Thrae's mouth as Lora wrapped her arms around her upper half. Even as the vampire was feeding off her, Thrae's fingers continued to rub along Lora's petals, before slowly she slipped a finger inside as her thumb played with the vampiress' clit.

DM62: The vampire continues to feed, moaning in pleasure from both the blood and the sex, her body writhing against Thrae. It's only a few minutes before Thrae begins to feel quite weak, and cold... but Lora's body is warm against her. The vampire breaks off, gasping for a moment. "Mmmm... now. Time for you to join me, my lovely drider." She produces a dagger, slitting her left wrist, and raises the wound to Thrae's lips. "Drink, my love."

DM62: Lora moans, nearing her climax, gasping with pleasure as the drider drinks at her wound. The blood is salty and metallic, and yet Thrae can think of no beverage she's ever enjoyed more. She can feel her power growing with every drop she swallows. The vampiric under elf writhes against her, caressing the drider and groaning, then shuddering in ecstasy as her pleasure reaches its peak.

Thrae took a bit of pleasure in bringing Lora to orgasm, though she was much more focused on getting more blood. The drider feeling her power returning to her in spades with every few seconds of drinking and it tasted so good. Doubling her drinking rate, she tried to get more and more of the incredible tasting blood.

DM62: Finally, Thrae can feel the warmth returning to her own skin. She reaches a point where she begins to feel positively flushed, and Lora gently pushes her back, removing her from the wound. Thrae can feel a heightened sense of awareness. The shadows seem to hold no secrets from her. Lora smiles at her. My lover... my sister... welcome. Lora can speak directly into her head now, it seems.

Thrae felt alive again, which almost caused her to mentally chuckle to herself at the irony. The drider couldn't kept a smile from her face as she was pushed away from the wound and the darkness around her felt even more at home than it did before. She was momentarily thrown off by Lora speaking straight into her mind, and it took a few seconds to respond. 'Mmmm sister...I like the sound of that.' It was true, being a drider. Thrae never exactly got to know much about what having a family was like, and she was now very literally connected by blood with the under elf.

DM62: Lora chuckles. Shhh... try telling me with your thoughts, my love.

Thrae tried to focus on herself, and then sent out with her mind. This might take some getting used to. Thank you for giving me this.

DM62: The under elf smiles, holding Thrae close. You are most welcome, my love. I do not think that your chimera friend will approve... but you've made the right decision. And I've no intention of attempting to interfere in that relationship. Lora gestures one of the under elf attendants over. "Kneel. Let Mistress Thrae feed upon you." The lovely female kneels before the drider, exposing her neck submissively. Go on, my love. Just don't drink her to death... she is a lovely little slave.

Thrae blushed a bit at her and Vel being picked out so quickly again, though this time at least she figured it was Vel's fault not hers. I think she'll come around soon enough. Then when one of the other under elves came over to her, Thrae felt the want for more blood ache in her. Shifting so she could bite at the attendant's neck, Thrae began drinking, though she made sure to check herself to avoid doing anything fatal.

DM62: Lora strokes Thrae as she feeds on the living for the first time... and the blood is fresh and delicious. Thrae can feel the under elf's heartbeat, and can taste her last few meals. She can even sense the under elf deriving pleasure from the sensation of being fed upon by a vampire. Lora's fingers caress the drider's body gently.

Thrae shivered a bit as Lora's fingers danced over her skin and she tasted the attendants blood. She wondered just how Vel's blood would taste to her new senses. Still, she continued to suck the under elf's blood, though after she had her fill or when she was sure the elf couldn't take more, she'd pull off. Hmmm, tastes good, though not as good as you Lora.

DM62: Lora nods. For now, my love, best return to your party. They will be rising soon. I will miss you... but we will always be able to feel each other, my dear.

Thrae felt a bit disappointed that they would end so soon, but it was true, she needed to return before the others work up, especially Vel. Hopefully we will return sooner than later. For now though, I will see you later sister. Thrae couldn't resist giving Lora a parting kiss, before getting her gear back and returning to her party.

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Seventh Session, 5 November (part one, a treacherous path, a musical prisoner)

Spoiler

DM62: The party rises in the early morning. Thrae has just returned to the quarters, and her skin looks just a bit... paler than it did before. One of the guards gives the group a bow once they've dressed and eaten. "I have been assigned to see you out of the Spiderbloom and on your way to your destination. Might I ask where you are bound?"

Raz'Qui looks curiously to the kitsune and the smuggler Cable, wondering where they were headed. The kitsune probably wasn't in any condition to respond after he knotted her up good last night.

Vel steps beside Thrae, though she clearly is of not good spirits or mood right now.

Hel: "Well, we should probably try to check in with our command... we do have a captive now after all," the dwarf points out, having managed to get up and decent before they arrived.

DM62: The kitsune actually looks quite well, smiling sweetly. There's no sign of any bite marks on her neck. Clark Gable, the smuggler, is standing easy, waiting to hear the group's input. Jenna is lounging near Vel, softly stroking the chimera's fur. "I thought we were supposed to head to Braxil and kill someone. A chief, I think?"

Zyanya: "If I may say, my vote is to head back to the surface. Much as I've learned down here, I do long to see the sun again. So the quickest path to the surface would be my vote, but I'm not the only member here."

Vel nods, purring quietly, though not as much as usual, still troubled seeming.
Raz’Qui: "Yes, some sun on my scales would be most welcome."

DM62: The guard looks around the group. "Well... if you're heading to the capital of Kalifer to report your progress, then you'll need to head to the surface. If you're moving to Braxil, you could take the surface or the underlands to Grand Forge instead."

Vel: "Vel thinks underground to Grand forge is best. Less greeny brown mushrooms and rocks and rivers to block the way..."

Raz’Qui: "I am fine with either route, but will much prefer the trip across the surface."

Hel: The dwarf strokes his beard a little. "Well, we can drop off the prisoner in Grand Forge at least... though overland or underland, we'll have to watch out for his kin. They own much of the land west, especially the desert."

DM62: Clark Gable shrugs. "I'm up for either destination. But I say we head there on the surface." Neither Irena nor Jenna offer any input. Arturus, the wood elf, is eager to head up to the surface as well... as is Nisali the faun.

Zyanya: "Same. That's the downside of having a party of surfacers and people from the underlands. I'm just saying, I'm not in the mood to encounter more animals the size of castles while I'm down here. Things on the surface are more managable in size. "

Vel: "Vel points out snurflers are from the surface."

DM62: The smuggler chuckles. "Have you ever seen how big a snurfler can get on the surface?" He frowns a little at the chimera. "Sneaky furball ninja'd me."

Vel: "Vel is sorry."

Zyanya: "I come from an island with plenty of dangerous nasties. Size never really was a concern before now."

Hel: "Well, guess to Grand Forge and around Kalifer's Maw then," the dwarf murmers, seeming rather unremarked about it. He pulls a map from some of the kit, scrutinizing a safe path through the underlands from the spiderbloom.

DM62: Clark ruffles the chimera's fur on her head a little. "No worries, lass. I've been shot down by smaller folk than you, even."

Raz’Qui: "Maybe so little one, but down here, they can be hard to avoid." He patted Vel's head a moment as well. "So Grand Forge it is then.

Raz’Qui: "Maybe so little one, but down here, they can be hard to avoid." He patted Vel's head a moment as well. "So Grand Forge it is then.

Zyanya: "-Sigh-. Guess it's more rocks and darkness for the forseeable future."

Vel: "Vel thinks that mistresses friends already drove one off. Vel does not think they will be trouble. Vel goes where Mistress goes though."

winces and rubs her throat again.

Raz'Qui offers her his canteen of water. "So what can we expect between here and Grand Forge? I have very little knowledge of what lurks down here."

Vel shakes her head. "Vel throat not dry. Vel throat ruined so talk hurt..."

DM62: The guard bows. "We can head to the overlands through the Spiderbloom if you wish. Then you may travel to Grand Forge by way of the surface. Or you may travel through the underground jungle. Or over the sulphuric ocean. Or through the den of beasts."

Raz’Qui: "The jungle seems the likely bet if we are to go underground. The sulphuric ocean sounds as toxic as its name." He shook it once more. "It is cold, will help sooth it."

Vel: "Vel is certain cold not soothe this.," she says, tilting her head up and parting the fur on her neck, to reveal a large jagged scar along her neck.

Raz’Qui: "Just give it a shot. I keep it cold because I like it that way. I find cold can help sooth aches. So underground or above on the surface?"

Vel rolls her eyes then takes it and drinks it, pretty certain that drinking cold stuff won’t help a damaged voicebox.

DM62: Arturus and Clark speak up for heading to the surface. Irena and Jenna abstain.

Raz’Qui: Vel would find the water from the canteen almost frozen. She can see a few ice cubes flooting inside as well.

Vel yelps and tosses it aside as she gets covered in ice cold water at the shock, shivering hard. "...Vel cold now..."

Zyanya: "Little confusion there. But I'm still for the surface."

Raz’Qui: "I told you it was cold." He shook his head to retrieve his canteen. He then plopped a blanket ontop of her from his pack. "I am fine either. Though some of our number will likely have some problems with the sun."

Vel: "Vel thought cold, not water rocks...," she mumbles, shivering as she drops to all fours and shakes her body, her tail seeming to have fallen asleep from the cold.

Hel: "Don't matter. If we go to the surface, we can trek a course one way or another," the dwarf shrugs. "If we go the surface here, we can at least avoid some of the sidetrek the mountains would force us to do if we exited from Grand Forge.

DM62: The guard nods. He hands a small necklace to Thrae, murmuring to her quietly. Then he turns to address the group. "Right. If you'll follow me, we'll take a long, winding stair to the surface. Step carefully and lightly. We cannot pause on this path... so make sure you're ready to travel. The journey to the surface is... a bit arduous." He pauses. "Let me know when you are ready, and I will guide you to the stair."

Vel waits patiently for the way up.

Raz’Qui nods, already checking the straps on his pack and blades. "I am ready now."

Hel takes a second to gather up his weapons from nearby, and quickly moves them to the rightful positions. "All accounted for, let's do this."

DM62: The guard nods. "Right. Follow me. Once we begin up the stair, remember. No stopping. And no looking down. It's a very... unforgiving path." He gives a bit of a sinister smile, bowing once more and then leading the group through the Orbweaver palace toward one of the corner towers, a tower set against a massive underground wall, the top of which cannot be seen.

Zyanya knew she was prepared, having grabbed both spears, her pack and all other essential items after she woke up this morning. Given everything else they ran into this trip so far, this arduous trek would be a cake walk by comparison.

Hel is silent, moving behind the guard with one hand close to his hammer. He'll be glad to be out of this place, no lie about that...

Raz'Qui waits to be the last one up before starting up the stairs. Fortunately he was quite accustomed to hard treks on foot since he got his wings forcibly clipped a century ago.

Vel moves alongside Thrae as she follows the guard.

DM62: The guard pauses as he reaches the top of the tower. There's a set of stairs leading upward, carved into the underground wall. It looks rather treacherous. Further up, there seem to be web-stairs hanging down from the darkness above. "Right. Take a moment to breathe, then follow me up." He starts up the rock stairs, leading the party along the path upwards. His voice seems to float down. "Whatever you see or hear, do not stop walking up the stairs, and do NOT look down."

Vel shrugs and follows along. She knew better than to stop and was prepared to ignore the various lures that likely had been set as traps for the unwary.

Raz'Qui would shrug before continuing on up, though he wondered why he shouldn't look down. Though he frowned at the warning to not stop despite what he might see.

Hel would continue along, having to use the butt of his axe to help stabilize himself occasionally on the rock due to his shorter, stockier frame, but otherwise able to keep up.

Zyanya: Well, all her training and focus had to come in handy for something and what could be a better opportunity than climbing a rock staircase with potential noises and distractions? She was prepared for this.

DM62: The climb is arduous, and seems to pass in something of a haze. There are moments where the web stairs seem to sink beneath the travelers' feet. At some points, the party members hear loved ones calling them from below. Hel's father, Zyanya's mother, Raz'Qui's grandfather, and even Thrae call to the party from below, asking them for help.

Vel notes that given Thrae was beside her, it definitely was a trick. Or at least, was she? It could be some elaborate scheme... but to what gain? No, the likelihood of the Thrae beside her being false was slim to none. She wouldn't fall for that trick of the stairs.

Hel: The dwarf grunts a bit under the talk, but his eyes focus on his companions. He's ready to try and grab them should they falter or slow, trying to ignore his own loved one's voices.

Raz’Qui: "Sorry old man, but you’re much too lazy and too fat in the ass to be down here." He would continue to climb upward. Scooping up anyone who faltered along the way if need be.

Zyanya too remained iron faced and determined, pushing her way up the stairs and only responding once to the voice calling out to her. "Mother, I know you aren't here. Your time with the tribe is much too important to be wasting any down here." All the while, she just kept looking forward, focusing on the task at hand.

DM62: The eyesight of the surfacers grows somewhat hazier as they climb, and they hear the guard's voice. "Keep focused on the person above you. Your vision might get a little fuzzy, if you're a surfacer." Thrae and Vel can still see plainly, and the voices have stopped. Finally, there's a blinding light, and the party finds itself on the surface, near the swamp's edge and a small cave.

Vel heads up, tail reaching back to act as a lead for whoever is behind her. Once the light is revealed, she gave a mewl of distaste but powered forwards as her eyes teared up and clenched. Gods, she hated that sky fire.

Hel: The dwarf is blinking in the bright light, mumbling a few curses in dwarven as he tries to focus his thoughts.

Raz'Qui took in a deep breath of fresh air and let his eyes adjust to the harshness of the surface. His skeletal wings stretching out and flapping a moment.

DM62: The kitsune breathes easier on the surface. She notes the discomfort of the chimera, dwarf, and especially the vampiric drider. Smirking, Irena traces a few runes in the air, and the light around the group dims considerably. The guard that accompanied the party is nowhere to be seen. Arturus looks about. "We're... somewhere between Swampedge and Grainharvest. A few days from Ritzerite... and about five days from Grand Forge. Six if we stop at the capital on the way."

Raz’Qui: "Well as long as someone knows where we popped up."

Vel breathes a bit easier once the light dims a bit. It wasn't perfect but she could at least open her eyes a bit now. "Vel thinks we get orc done before he moves..."

Hel: The dwarf pulls his own map as he scrutinizes it. "We're a decent walk from the main objective though, that being Axetan..." he points out. "No matter where we go, we need to at least get our captive to the royals, from there we can head on with our primary mission. Only reason I suggested Grand Forge in the first place..."

DM62: Fel Blackiron sourly responds. "Get orc done? Are you planning to cook me or sell me, then?"

Zyanya: The adjustment to the hazy vision too a little bit for the Shiriti but it all became clear ssoon enough after the blinding light was dimmed. The shiriti smiled and breathed easier now that she was back where she belonged. "True. We need to figure out what we're doing with our orc friend. Sorry, but we have a job to do and I can't imagine you'd do differently if you were in our situation. "

Raz'Qui gave the orc a large toothy grin. "Not sure you would make for good eating. Would need some fattening up first."

DM62: The orc chuckles. "Don't tell me what I would or would not do. And don't use my hypothetical actions to justify your own. I could have escaped five times so far, possibly six. But I'm honor-bound to remain."

Hel: "No cooking, though I'm sure that the elves and humans will at least want a chat with one that shows a bit of honor," Hel remarks. "Just hope someone of my kin's gotten back up here minus the small garrison I was in charge of, I passed the command to another man capable but he wasn't of a great hold, so he'd not have much political clout..." he mumbles, mostly to himself that last little bit.

Zyanya: "I meant no offense. I'm just working on what I know. We are technically at war, after all." She hushed herself and wonder just what the group would do. "Either way, we aren't going to accomplish much just standing around."

DM62: Fel shrugs. "You haven't even noticed your missing companion. The other dragonkin." He snorts a bit derisively. "Not that it's a real loss for you folk."

Vel looks over at the orc. "Vel will eat you if Mistress tells her too. But Vel meant chief person."

Hel: The dwarf frowns, giving a bit of a glance around. Indeed, they were short a dragon. He curses and frowns, rubbing his beard. "...Ok, you get credit for that one," he grumbles. "Where did that wench go to..."

Raz’Qui: "Not a clue. Assumed she was off sleeping with someone who caught her fancy." He gave a small shrug.

DM62: The smuggler shrugs. "We cannot go back to look for her. Might I suggest we get a move on? We need to decide if we wish to head to Ritzerite or directly to Grand Forge."

Vel: "Vel says whichever takes us closer to chief orc. If... Mistress allows her to...?"

Raz’Qui: "I am ready to get a move on."

DM62: Thrae nods. "We could even bypass Grand Forge entirely."

Hel: "Stop at Ritzerite, then right on to our primary mission," the dwarf responds, with a bit of a twitch of his beard.

Zyanya: "Agreed. A stop at Rirzerite will be good before moving on to our main objective. I think many of us are in agreement here."

Vel: "Vel asks for mistress, why we stopping there for?"

DM62: Irena shrugs. "If we go to Ritzerite, might as well slice off the orc's head now. Lady Greenleaf and the Rashirah are not known for taking orc prisoners. If we want him kept as a prisoner, best take him to Grand Forge."

Raz’Qui: "I am fine with either course."

Hel: The dwarf grunts and frowns. "...Go figure... Suppose if we want to get anything useful out of him, it's either we lug him through orc territory or head for the Forge, then."

Vel: "Vel thinks chief who killed children and sliced off their ears is priority."

DM62: The orc raises an eyebrow. "It might help if you define 'useful.' For example, I've been told that I have a very lovely singing voice." He deadpans at the dwarf.

Vel: "Vel thinks dwarf’s orc slave should sing nice songs for walking."

Hel: "A route through the desert that won't make us run into a bloodthirsty warband may be a start," the dwarf remarks back at the snarking orc."

Raz’Qui: "Well let us be off then. They are more likely to find us standing still then when walking."

Zyanya: "So which way are we heading then? I'm hearing a lot of opinions but not many solutions."

DM62: "Very well. I will sing a proper Orc marching tune. It might not rhyme well in your tongue, but it's roughly translated as, 'Why Goats Fuck Better Than Dwarf Wenches.'" He grins, starting to walk west by north-west toward the desert, heading north of Grand Forge. His voice is loud and boisterous, and doesn't at any point begin to approach what sounds like music.

Hel: The dwarf facepalms as they walk, shaking his head. "Good job, Vel," he snarks.

Raz'Qui shakes his head a moment as he follows. "I will take point." He then drops to all fours and races ahead a little ways to scout ahead of the others.

Vel: "Vel is thankful for praise of dwarf mistress friend," says Vel without a hint of sarcasm

Zyanya: "I'll stick close to the front as well. And if you need me to scout ahead, I can do so if need be. Figure I can make myself useful now that we're on the surface."

DM62: Clark Gable chuckles at the incredibly offensive racial slurs against the dwarves as Fel shouts and growls his way through the perverse song. "Been a while since I could sing like that. Under elves have no ear for music. Next is 'How to Fist an Elf Lord.'" Arturus raises an eyebrow, unsure whether to laugh or decapitate the orc as he starts singing about ways to batter a tight elven rectum until it grows loose. The next few days are very, very long indeed.

Vel: "Vel says mistress has best singing voice of all."

Hel: "My kingship for a pair of earmuffs..."

Vel: "If you give your kingship to mistress, Vel will lay on your head and cover your ears?"

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Seventh Session, 5 November (part two, Malgra)

Spoiler

DM62: The party makes good time, and within two days the edge of the Southtooth Mountains comes into view. Black smoke rises in the distance... from the direction of Grand Forge. Fel scowls. "Master Dwarf... that's not a good sign for your people."

Hel: The dwarf frowns, looking at the smoke with a growl. "We may make a racket when forging, but not that big of one. Blasted... How did they cross the mountains that fast?!?" he curses, and moves himself at a faster pace.

Raz'Qui hmmed to himself a moment, either it was from forge fires or the warband already started to lay siege to it. Either way, it wasn't a good sign.

Vel: "Vel thinks taking a diffrent route was right. Should have listened to mistress and went for the chief. We should go back to doing that. We cannot save dwarfy peoples from army."

Zyanya: "They made it this far this fast? You've gotta be kidding me. Well what are we going to do if it really is being sacked?

DM62: Clark shakes his head. "I'm afraid Vel is correct. We can't take on an army. Not alone. But we should at least get a better idea of what's transpiring ahead."

Vel: "Vel has bad seeing in bright bad place. But if mistress wishes Vel to go look, Vel is small and hard to see."

DM62: Thrae shakes her head. "Grand Forge is still a few days off. We need to stay together, for now."

Hel: "Well, we knew they were starting to move underground, that was the entire reason they wanted to go the underground route and ally with the Under Elves..." he shakes his head a little. "This isn't going to bode well for the Wood Elves soon, thier forest is probably next so they can limit the human's calvery..." He scowls. "If we can get to the foothills we can possibly see if they are warcamps or leaving raiders. Though we may wish to veer northward slightly, just in case the enemy moves down the mountains."

Raz'Qui nodded. "Best we see what is happening ahead either way. If it is being attacked, best to know so we can avoid the various warbands and not get caught between them. "

Vel: "Vel wishes slutty lizard mistress friend was here. She could use bat wings to fly up and see orcs."

Raz’Qui: "If we get close, I can go and take a look. I may not look it, but I can be sneaky if I need to be. Plus, unless it is something mounted, I can usually outrun it."

Vel: "Vel thinks that anything giant lizard can do in sneakyness, Vel can do better. Vel is small so is harder to see."

Raz’Qui: "You would be surprised little one. Plus if something goes wrong, like it is bound to with so many eyes, I can handle myself."

DM62: Fel nods. "I will remain silent, then. I am still honorbound to remain a cooperative prisoner." He follows along with the group as they head west. The party nears the foothills within a day of hard marching. Then they see riders approaching. An orcish unit, mounted on what look to be creatures with human upper bodies, and the lower bodies of scorpions. They're still a mile away, but approaching rapidly.

Vel: "Vel sees bug people. Bug people surely see us too. We get trampled if we not have cover."

Raz'Qui stands to his full height and draws his large blade. His wings flexing as he took up a defence spot at the front of their group.

Zyanya: "Fucking hell. Giant scorpion...centaur things? Seems orcs think outside the box on everything. Regular cavalry isn't enough. We need to be mounted on giant insects instead." The human was in a bit of disbelief over what she was seeing, but wouldn't argue the reality as she found a position out of the way of the attack. Unless the group had plans to flee or find cover. She was prepared for whichever came first.

Hel: The dwarf mumbles. "Anyone know what the hell those things are...?" he asks, eying the unit and readying his war-axe. "Going to assume a good axe to the gut will help either way, but..." He eyes for any form of nearby trees or brush line, something to hide the outline of them in somewhat from the approaching raiders.

Vel: "Vel knows nothing about surface cept has moss on everything and giant weird mushrooms, and you can't see in it. Also has Snurflers and water falls from nowhere."

DM62: Unfortunately there's not much around in the way of cover--the party is on a fairly flat plain, approaching the foothills of the Southtooth mountain range. The unit comprises of fifty riders atop fifty scorpion-folk. They get about a hundred yards away, then the lead rider raises a fist and shouts an order. The party can see that the riders are moving in seven rows and seven columns, with the lone rider in front. They are all wearing plain leather armor. The riders stop at the leader's command, while the leader continues toward the party alone.

Vel: "Vel thinks we either talk out or die quick."

Raz'Qui lowers his blade, though keeps his hands tense and ready. "Seems so little one. Not even I can outrun that many."

Hel: The dwarf is quiet, holding his axe still and eying the approaching man on his mount, not budging and cursing the humans and thier happiness with this wind-swept flatlands. "They got the advantage. Hopefully they will offer favorable terms, fighting this many will probably be foolish even for I."

Zyanya: "Don't think any of us can to be honest. If we can get out of this without blood shed, I'd be content with that. Not much for fighting groups nearly 10 times the size of mine."

DM62: Clark Gable shakes his head. "I could probably kill twenty or so. But I'm afraid not all of you are quite as skilled as I." He smirks. The lone rider nears the group. A female orc, in plain leather armor, carrying what looks to be a spear with the top half wrapped in leather. She dismounts. "Greetings. We have been expecting you." The bottom of her spear is also a bit odd, as it has a round metal ball on the end.

Raz'Qui eyed her warily a moment before glancing back toward her squad of waiting men.

Hel: "Expecting us...?" the dwarf snorts. "I don't know what you're talking about..." a light bulb went off shortly after. "...That guard... bastard probably was a traitor, dammit..." he mumbles mostly to himself this revelation, hands gripping tighter on his axe handle.

Vel didn't think so. If he was a traitor it'd have been easy not to warn them about the dangers of the way upwards. They'd all likely be gone in short order. Not that it didn't mean there might be a traitor or informant but she doubted it was him.

Zyanya: "Expecting us? Not sure what you mean by that." The shiriti was quite confused, not quite able to put te pieces together if there were any to put together. "Either way, I'm surprised that anyone would be expecting us, considering we just broke light a few days ago."

DM62: "As distasteful as we find our spies, we do not disclose their identities. But you have a prisoner of ours--an orc you saved from driders and minotaurs. And we have a prisoner of yours... a human knight that we found, unconscious and bruised. Sir Regulus Malius, though we had difficulty even establishing his name. He's... a stubborn sort, for a human."

Zyanya: "Ah. So I take it you want to do something of a prisoner exchange?"

Raz'Qui looked to the others curiously. "Know him?"

Hel: The dwarf nods a little, frowning. "I see..." His eyes focus on the smoke behind them, still wafting from his homeland, eyes narrowing in thought. Short term revenge, or potential long-term gains...

DM62: Irena sighs and nods to Raz. The orc is stoic in her response. "Yes. And we have gifts for you, as well." She turns and signals to the riders. Seven of them branch off, riding back. "They will fetch Sir Malius. And the gifts. It will not take long--as I said, we have been expecting you."

Raz'Qui whispered softly to the dwarf. "You know, they might be willing to do an honourable duel. Winner gets the other's captive."

Vel sits and waits, scritching her ear with her back foot. Highly suspicious but she had no desire to give too much away. The orc knew a fair bit about her after all. but not everything.

Zyanya: "Gifts?" The shiriti was quite confused. The prisoner excuange she understood but why would the enemy they were supposed to be fighting against providing them gifts? It all felt a little bizzare since stuff like this normally happened after the war and the defeated foe offered the victor tribute and spoils in the form of money, resources and slaves.

Hel: The dwarf frowns at the dragon's words, but gives a nod at the whisper. It would be a potential trump card.

DM62: The orc female, dressed in plain leather armor, waits calmly and silently. Within about a half-hour, the seven riders return, along with another pair of riders on the scorpion-men. One of them is an orc bearing a chest. The other looks to be a bound human... looks just like the Sir Regulus Malius you lost in the Spiderbloom, if a bit bruised. The seven riders stop with the other forty-two, and the orc with the chest rides forward with the bound Sir Malius. The orc female nods. "Yes. I understand you collect heads."

Raz'Qui frowned at her words. His eyes looking between her and the chest cautiously.

Hel: The handle of the dwarven axe creaks audibly as the grip tightens, the creature's body trembling as fury begins to boil in his heart. He can see where this is going, and if it was, he too was honor-bound- this time, vengeance.

Thrae definately felt like this was about to end with Sir Malius getting killed, but she wasn't about to start anything with this many scorpion riders facing off against them right now, she'd leave that for the dwarf.

Zyanya: Oh they weren't about to do what she thought they were going to do. Yeah, they collected heads once, but it wasn't like they did it as a hobby. But at least Malius was ok, if a little banged up. The chest however sent a shiver up the tribals spine, not sure what to expect and fearing what it might be.

DM62: The orc female gestures to the warrior carrying the chest. He dismounts, moving forward and placing the wooden chest on the grass in front of the party. He moves back, and the female gives a small smile to the dwarf. "It's unlocked. Go ahead. Open it."

Hel: The growl through his teeth is loud as the axe handle flips forward, knocking the chest open to surely reveal grisly contents. "To think I spared one of your kind thus far for honor, woman..." he hisses, not daring to look down into it and showing fury in every wrinkle of his face.

DM62: In the chest is a head-sized crimson pouch. Beneath the pouch are tusks. Orc tusks, two dozen at least. The orc woman shrugs. "Honor is a very good reason for doing all kinds of things that might seem inconvenient. And it's the only reason that I'm here speaking to you, instead of looking at your lifeless corpses. Go on, look in the bag."

Raz’Qui: "Easy dwarf. Anger will only lead to dangerous and rash decisions. Then who will help your people?"

Hel: The dwarf does look down, at which point he notices the orc tusks in the chest as well. This was.... a surprising development. He manages to hold his anger for now, using the tip of his axe to catch the crimson bag and tug it closer to his hand, before opening it. His eyes were narrowed now less with rage but with suspicion.

DM62: The orc continues speaking, calmly. "I have to admit, I'm a bit confused. You don't seem much like mighty champions or subtle diplomats. But it took me two years to build even a shaky agreement with two of the three major under elf houses, and you lot have already turned all three against me. There's something about you, something dangerous, to be sure. But no matter." The bag slips, and out rolls a brutish orc head, a male warrior with his face open in a silent howl of rage. "Chief Baltrigh... did NOT have my permission to perform barbarities against the elven people, resistant or not. That is his head. Those tusks belonged to his captains. And I have put his legion through ritual decimation. Are your people... familiar with decimation?" She looks at the dwarf impassively.

Vel: "...Vel thinks you are the warlord who started this. Vel wants to know why Orc Mistress is fighting everyone."

Raz’Qui: "Huh." He gave a small nod at her words. "I am familiar with that practice." His eyes narrowing supsiously as he observed her closely.

Helvoque frowned, the rage lowering, but his axe didn't yet. "...I know of the term..." he admits, his eyes focused again on the woman as she speaks. He isn't relaxing yet though. This was obviously a situation of dire straights...

Zyanya: "I've heard rumors but I can’t imagine it’s all that good. Anything called decimation can't be good, especially in the context you’re speaking of. Anyone that disobeys orders needs to be punished."

DM62: The warrior nods. "I am Malgra. I wage war for peace. I kill thousands to save millions. I am sworn to save this world, even if I have to break it first." She looks at Zyanya. "Every soldier in that legion had to pull a stone from a bag. Every tenth stone was painted. If a soldier pulled a painted stone... he or she was bludgeoned to death by the other soldiers in the unit. The threat of decimation will prevent any further atrocities from the survivors."

Zyanya: "Effective, if a bit of a brutal method to maintain order and discipline. Gets the troops in line and scares them from doing anything savage and brutal again, for fear of it happening again."

Hel: "You realize that it won't halt all such atrocities, right?" Helvoque pipes up. "Creatures with wicked hearts won't hold themselves back just beause another was punished for it..." He finally lets the axe to a nuteral position, burying it's handle into the grass beside him. "The only way for such madness to end is for the reason to fight to end."

Vel tilts her head. "What is Mistress Malgra fighting to save them from?"

DM62: The warchief sighs. "When my father, Warchief Malgroth, was just a boy, he encountered a great oracle. He was told of a threat. A threat that would come from the lands of the free elves. And he was told that only war stood a chance of preventing the cataclysm that the threat would bring." She looks at the chimera. "He spent his life preparing for a war to ensure that there would BE no land of the free elves. That this threat would never have a chance of emerging. He had a vision from the gods. A vision of a world with one ruler, a benevolent tyrant who would put an end to the constant strife between the races. A war to end all wars." She looks around the group. "I am sworn to seek his vision. I cannot turn aside... and I am winning."

Vel tilts her head. "Mistress Malgra, Vel thinks that if you change the conditions you might just change what comes, not stop it. Instead of knowing big threat comes from ehre and ready to fight it, you fight now and instead big threat may come in new place or form where not expecting it."

Raz'Qui frowned deeply and shook his head. It was the nature of most things to wish to fight for things such as land or loot. He doubted one war would ever prevent another. He patted Vel's head. "The little one is right. What is to say that your war does not bring about this threat? Or that it weakens everything to it?"

Hel: The dwarf frowns. "I have also been told great and terrible things lie beyond... I was told tbat it was better to warn of it's dangers, when the time was right... I do not know of who your visions spoke, or the final outcome, but you clearly can see the damage you have caused to all involved. Come, we can meet terms, and end this madness. It's a foolishness to think that a dictator would be able to ensure peace."

DM62: "I understand. But it does not matter. Even if my war leads to the world's undoing... I am sworn to my task. I cannot step aside. It is not only a quest to save lives, now. It is also a matter of honor." She looks to the group again. "I do not expect you to agree, but I do expect you to understand that I cannot alter my course. Now... do you wish to exchange prisoners?" Regulus is quietly listening, bound atop one of the scorpion-men.

Raz'Qui looked to the dwarf curiously, wondering whether he would choose to fight it in a duel or just exchange them.

Vel shakes her head and sighs a bit. She'd never understand this honor thing. Seemed like a great way to get yourself killed.

Zyanya: In her mind, the term tyrant never sounded good and there couldn't be such thing as a benevolent tyrant. Anyone who was called such often met a swift and bloody end at someones hands. But she wasn't hired to think about the orcs reasons for fighting. They had their reasons for fighting just as they had a reason to defend them. Elves, humans, everyone was threatened by the orcs and she wasn't about to let them achive their goals. It would mean the loss of thousands including her home. "I have no issue with the exchange. Does anyone have anything to add before we do so?"

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Seventh Session, 5 November (part three, a point of honour, offering your enemy a hand, applying frost aid)

Spoiler

DM62: Arturus speaks up. "Even if we exchange prisoners, I am not satisfied. Your people have slaughtered mine, brutally. And I suspect that my dwarven companion feels similar, given that you probably just sacked his home." He brandishes his sword and mace.

Hel: The dwarf is quiet, eyeing between the orc warchief, their captured comrade, the others, the warchief, and then the rest. He breathes, thinking. Does he risk the small clan he fights with to such a outlandish duel? It is clear this woman is a skilled warrior. When Arturus speaks up, though, he realizes it's time. He gives a grunt, chucking his axe forward until it lands heavily into the ground between him and the warlord. "Calm yourself, Arturus..." he states, shifting forward. "There is a way to settle some of our differences here, Warlord... I offer a raising of stakes..."

DM62: The orc female sighs. "Speak, Helvoque Magmahammer."

Vel looks to Thrae, unsure about this. She'd follow along what Thrae wanted but fighting the warlord like this, her against the dwarf...

Hel: "I do not even dare hold the thought of me being able to dissuade you with the outcome of a duel. However, perhaps from honor, I can delay it. Upon my victory of a duel, I wager my own head along with the orc's to be dragged to your prisoners. However, if I am victorious, we will keep our own prisoner, and you will return to us Sir Malius... and must withold your forces here for a week. Do you accept, Warlord Malgra?"

Raz'Qui looked at the dwarf curiously. "Sure you do not want me to champion for you dwarf?"

DM62: Malgra looks confused. "Why would I want your head? For that matter, of what use is your prisoner to you? We sometimes use his singing to torture disobedient slaves."

Vel: "...Vel liked his singing..."

Hel: "Hrmph. If you do not like such terms, you can suggest your own then," he remarks. "That is, if you do not want to decline and we can do this trade as usual." That is, if her pride would allow it.

DM62: The orc shrugs. "If you wish to fight me, then you may fight me. Let us exchange prisoners. Then you will draw your weapons and I will brandish mine. And we will attack one another, to satisfy your honor. And that of your elven friend?"

DM62: Arturus nods, "If Hel wishes to fight for both our races, I will be satisfied."

Raz'Qui looked at the dwarf curiously. "Sure you do not want me to champion for you dwarf?"

Vel shakes her head. Darkness save her from the pride of surfacers.

Hel: "Very well then," he grumbles, looking annoyed. He glares at the dragon and shakes his head. No, he had to do this alone.

Raz'Qui gave a small shrug.

DM62: Malgra gestures, and the orc who carried the chest cuts loose Regulus. He climbs off of the scorpion-man, wincing as the circulation returns to his extremities, and limping back over. The orc brings over a sack, containing the human's personal effects.

Raz'Qui sheathes his blade and wandered over to the drider in their midst. "So, how are you taking to your new gift?"

DM62: Fel nods, calmly returning to stand near the other orc. Malgra loosens the leather atop her spear. The tip is a blade, almost as long as a short-sword, with sharp edges on either side.

Vel backs away from the fight about to occur. "Go someone! Beat the other person up! Vel believes one of you can do it!"

Hel rolls his shoulders and moves forward, his shield shifting to his grip and he pulls his hammer to his hand, leaving the axe as a marker of the center of the arena. "Not aiming for a deathblow, as much as my slaughtered kin will scream for it," he remarks. "Just to let ya know, lass..."

DM62: The orc narrows her eyes. "I somehow doubt that your half-elf companion will appreciate it... or permit you to stop short of my death." Jenna shrugs. "Honey, you don't mind serving me in undeath, do you? Malgra looks a little tough."

Zyanya: "Not what I was expecting today. A prisoner exchange followed by a duel between my companion and one of the orcs. With his head on the table as a prize." Zyanya mumbles to herself as she waits for the fight to begin. Though the sight of the spear was something to behold. She'd love to learn how to use a spear like that. "Might need to get something like that forged later." She'd also greet Regulus upon his return. "Know we didn't speak much prior to our separation, but welcome back."

Vel: "Mistress friend Jenna offered this to Vel before. Jenna is nice, Vel will help keep Mistress friend Hel from falling to pieces if Mistress allows it."

Hel: The dwarf snorts. "You were the one asking how we were able to ruin an entire alliance network with some of the most back-biting elves in existance. I figured you wanted a demonstration..."

DM62: Fel speaks up. "This is a duel of honor. Warriors fight until they fall to the ground unable to rise. That is the only way." Jenna strokes Vel's fur, watching the fight quietly.

Vel purrs and leans in a bit to comfort her a bit, mumbling a little. "Want help choking him if he survives this? I kinda wanna choke him...," she whispers to Jenna

DM62: The orc nods, brandishing the spear in a well-practiced manner. Fel watches impassively, but Arturus starts. "Dwarf! Be careful with this one!" Malgra gestures the dwarf to begin.

Hel nods, his hands flipping the smaller warhammer in his hands a little before he slowly moves forward, moving in short steps with shield raised, ready to gauge his opponent. She would obviously be skilled, but the question is how much of her power was skill or the famous orcish berserker-dom.

DM62: The orc takes a step back, twirling the spear around her back, then swings around, bringing the metal ball on the back of the spear against the shield with a resounding blow. It hits hard enough to stagger the dwarf just a little, and then the orc sidesteps, taking advantage of the situation to thrust her blade at the dwarf's unprotected body.

Hel: There's a grunt as he skids through the dirt backwards, at which point the gravity of the situation hits. Whoops. This lass was all skill. Still,can't really back out now, do his best. While his shield arm was still reeling he manages to raise the stone and flarestone hammerhead to try and intercept the spearhead, as he moves to backpeddal out of her thrusting range, hopefully enough to save his hide from this blow.

DM62: Hel's swing is enough to knock the blade off-target, and Malgra swings around again, bringing the base of the spear against Hel's left ankle viciously. She darts to the left once more, swinging the blade down at Hel's neck in a vicious arc. Arturus' eyes are wide now. "It... it can't be..."

Vel: "Vel thinks mistress friend Arturus should just say it, because mistress friend Arturus evidently does not believe it can't be."

Hel grunts as he takes the blow to his ankle, a messy CRACK coming as a result before he hits a knee. However, he does his best to save himself and raise his shield to catch the spear again. He grips his hammer, spinning it on it's leather ring to ready his own counterattack from his vulnerable state.

DM62: "She's using the Kha'athri fencing style... I've only heard legends."

Raz'Qui sheathes his blade and wandered over to the drider in their midst. "So, how are you taking to your new gift?"

Zyanya: "Wait, what are you talking about Arturus? What's this style all about?"

DM62: Hel's shield is barely quick enough to prevent the blade from taking off his head, and she ducks back dexterously from his counter-attack, making the dwarf look slow and clumsy by comparison. She twirls the spear dexterously, and the ball on the end hammers into Hel's left ankle again. She spins to the right this time, giving the dwarf's body a moment to realize that his ankle was shattered.

Vel: "Vel thought fencing was for swords. Oh. Vel thinks it's over..."

Raz'Qui shook his head. Seemed the fight was already decided.

Hel: The dwarf howls in equal part anger and pain as his leg's fully stuck on his knees. He huffs a bit, leaning into his shield, having kept the hammer momentum going even with his attempt to swing. Using the shield to keep himself sturdy. Still, he risks one last act of defiance- hurling the hammer in a heavy throw that sends it careening towards his target at chest-level.

DM62: "During the Kinslayer Wars, elf fought against elf. Eventually the ancestors of the wood elves cast out the ancestors of the under elves. But at a certain point, both sides began running out of soldiers. It was all about having the best mercenaries… and the most skilled." He shakes his head. "Some of the elven battle masters developed a special fighting style for orc auxiliaries, combining elven fighting techniques and balance with orc brutality. Kha'athri. We thought it died out, generations ago."

DM62: The dwarf's hammer throw is dead-on, and Malgra's eyes open wide in surprise. She raises her spear swiftly to block the attack, and the wooden shaft splinters in her hands. The hammer's blow is somewhat blunted, but strikes her chest heavily, knocking her into the dirt. She lays dazed for a moment, her weapon broken, then slowly begins to rise, grasping the bladed half of her spear.

Zyanya: "She must have had a family member who passed it down through the generations. Least that would be my guess. Either way, that could be problematic for Hel."

Vel blinks at the blow. Well, maybe Hel could beat her down with his shield if he cracked her ribs.

Hel: The dwarf grunts and falls forward himself, panting as his bones recover. He's weaponless at the moment, and is willing to consider himself defeated with that one minor point drop. His axe was still a yard or so away in the earth and he'd not be able to hobble over nearly as far in order to get it, and he was running out of personal options.

Raz’Qui: "Use your shield. It to can be a weapon in the right hands."

DM62: The orc coughs up a little blood, growling. She picks up the other end of her spear, with the metal tip. The warrior staggers forward to the axe in the middle of the arena. "I'll not have you lose from being disarmed, dwarf." She tucks the bottom end of the spear under her sword-arm, then picks up the axe, tossing it at Hel's feet. Then she takes the offhand weapon in her hand, slowly advancing with a determined look in her eyes.

Hel: The dwarf grunts, grabbing the axe and using it as a half-crutch to get back to his feet. "L-Look at it this way lass... Nether of us ain't gonna last more than one blow..." he can't help but snark, holding himself on his good foot and the axe handle and gauging his wounded foe, shield ready to react as he swings the axehead away from his foe- still keeping his word to avoid lethality.

DM62: "Til one of us can not fight, dwarf. Now fight me," the orc hisses. She swings the blunt spear half like a mace, watching for an opening with the blade.

Hel: The dwarf manages to block the blunt blow again, holding himself staggered on the axe with the brunt. "As you wish, lass..." He growls, giving himself a forward push with the base of the axe before pulling it up and lunging towards her legs with the forward hook of the blade- he's aiming to catch her and knock her down, though heavily off-balance.

DM62: Malgra's eyes narrow as she reads the dwarf's lunge... and she gives a feral cry as she swings her blade in an upward, sideways arc, bringing the weapon through Hel's wrist completely. His axe-hand lands at Malgra's feet, weapon still clutched in it, and the orc gives the shield a brutal kick, knocking the dwarf onto his back, his severed wrist spraying crimson as he falls to the stained grass.

Vel winces a bit. Well. That was it then. Least he could say he landed a hit. She sighs quietly, and fishes a sewing needle out of her fur, for when she had to sew his corpse back together.

Hel gives a howl of pain as he's rendered useless proper now, knocked on his ass and trembling in pain. Still, he has enough sense to hold the nullmetal shield before himself, to keep her from breaking the duel just in case as he bleeds. He gives a grimace of disappointment to himself.

DM62: Malgra looks about at the group, openly leaning on the blunt half of her spear. "Is the honor of anyone here not fucking satisfied, now?! Speak up, if your pride demands me to kill this brave warrior." She glares around, mostly at Fel and Arturus. Arturus blinks, then shakes his head. Fel is silent.

Raz'Qui shook his head as well. "The fight has ended."

Vel was smirking inside. Glad to see Malgra secretly shared her opinion on honor. But then why...? She supposed the only way it made sense was if Malgra couldn't back down and keep control of the orcs. If she backed off on anything, they'd replace her, possibly with someone worse.

Hel is silent on the floor, doing what he can to keep the stump from bleeding too much and gritting his jaw to blind the pain, taking his defeat in stride. If one didn't learn from his mistakes, he'd be a terrible king, after all... If he didn't bleed out from his hubris here, of course.

Raz'Qui walked over to the quickly bleeding dwarf and unleashed a small controlled blast of frost at his bleeding stump.

Zyanya: Fucking hell. If this was the type of leadership the orcs were putting up, this war would be a hell of a lot harder for them. The shiriti was worried for Hel, of course. But her mind was much more focused on the long term mission.

Vel walks over to fetch the hand, hesitant in case she was stopped. She looked back and, oh great. Agh! "Mistress friend Raz, ice is bad for fixing injuries!"

Raz’Qui: "Perhaps, but it will stop him from bleeding out before we can fix his arm."

Vel: "No it won't!"

DM62: Jenna runs over to Hel's side. "You're a fucking moron, my prince," she chides, but her voice trembles as she speaks. She removes Hel's belt, tightening the leather around the wound to help keep him from bleeding out. Malgra shakes her head. "He's a warrior who leads with action. If he survives, he'll be the greatest king his people have ever known." She stands up straight, walking stiffly back to her mount. "I was going to offer you the hospitality of my camp, but I suspect we will be poor company for each other. We will return to Grand Forge. We will permit you to pass freely. If you come within a mile of Grand Forge, we will shoot an arrow at your feet. If you come closer, we will kill you. All of you."

Hel: The dwarf uses his shield to get himself back to his knees, giving a gruff huff as he gets back up. "Someone get me my axe, I can hobble along with it..." he mumbles, still keeping himself lock-jawed to hide his pain and shame. Something tells me he's done some very stupid stuff today, but at least it seemed some of them understood the reasons why.

Vel: "Your leg broke, mistress friend Hel. Also, thank you for offer, Orc Mistress Malgra."

DM62: The orc warchief gives a nod to Vel, climbing atop her mount. Then the orcs depart, returning to the other forty-nine and riding back to Grand Forge. Arturus shakes his head. "Nisali. Take him to the Tower." He picks up the dwarf, placing him on the faun's back, then tying him to her with rope. "My master can help him." He puts the hand in a sack, tying it to the dwarf. "Go. Go swiftly." The faun nods, taking off with the dwarf roped to her, running swiftly west.

Hel: "Wait what are you doing with meeeeeee...." the dwarf complains as he's getting dragged off.

Vel gives the hand up to Arturus then, and grunts. "Vel is glad that Mistress friend Hel lives. Vel thinks this was a silly fight."

DM62: "Saving your life... Highness." Nisali deadpans as she rushes west with her slowly-bleeding and definitely broken cargo. Arturus nods. "My teacher, Ashur the Sage... if anyone can help repair him, it is Ashur."

Zyanya: "So what now? We wait for them to come back or do we keep moving forward and hope they catch up later after Hel gets put back together?"

DM62: The elf speaks up. "The tower where my teacher lives is west of Grand Forge. We'll want to skirt the southern edge of the mile from the fort. There's a path through the mountains. Fast, but treacherous. I sent Nisali ahead because she's very fast, but we'll want to catch up to them soon."

Vel: "We have head. We need Mistress friend Hel. We fetch him then return to place that wished orc head. Right mistress?"

Raz’Qui: "Likely continue on. We have a mission we need to finish."

Zyanya: "I can live with that then. Just so long as we know where we're going and we stay out of the orcs way near the city."

Vel: "Vel goes where mistress goes."

Thrae: "I don't like the sound of a dangerous pass, but we can't go back without Hel, so let’s go see this sage."

DM62: Jenna grimly smiles. "After the Spiderbloom and an enchanted stairway to the surface? This should be a fucking cakewalk."

Vel: "Vel will protect mistress."

DM62: Clark Gable nods. "A risky affair. We didn't expect Malgra to move on Grand Forge so quickly. Our intelligence suggested an attack on Tillshire, further west... to acquire farmlands and crops. Malgra was bold in taking the dwarven city... and the stores there will sustain her. Not to mention now she's gained access to a vast armoury."

Raz’Qui: "Seems like your forces are ill equip to handle her army."

Zyanya: "That does sound like it'll make things infinitely harder for us, given that we've lost a major allied city and all of it's food and weapons to the enemy. It's going to only become more uphill the longer we take."

DM62: The smuggler shrugs. "Our organization specializes in information, not combat. Apparently, Malgra's forces are good at keeping their information and plans a secret. One of the advantages of an honor-based force. Still, after we retrieve Hel, we seem to have two options. We either help defend Braxil, or we try to recruit the under elves in retaking Grand Forge."

Vel: "Vel thinks that you don't need to worry too much. Vel thinks that if the Under Mistresses truly mean to help, the orcs will have trouble finding safe supplies."

Raz’Qui: "Well if you hope to push them back the strategic value of Grand Forge would be foolish to ignore. Plus if you wait too long, the walls will be repaired and make taking it back a risky business. Plus taking it back as quickly as possible also prevent the weaponry found their from spreading to her entire army."

Vel: "Vel points out that the under mistresses do not have an army."

DM62: "I'm presenting options. If the humans, elves, and dwarves begin losing TOO badly... then, well, let's just say that my bosses aren't all that interested in honor. They'll have to make nice with Malgra to keep their prospects decent."

Vel: "The under mistresses will follow suit too.," nods Vel, "Vel believes defending will be easier. Orcs must travel far. Under elves can make supplies not good. They come weak. Easier to kill. Those who survive to arrive."

Vel: "But attacking, under mistresses have no army. They can help, but we need more than them."

DM62: "You're assuming that the dwarves didn't have a massive reserve of grain, salted meat, dried fruit, and ale. Enough to last years."

Raz’Qui: "I was talking about the other races little one. With Grand Forge, they not only have the stock pile of weapons there, but they have dwarven steel and forges to make more."

Vel: "If they stay with it sure. But if they sit there with it, they’re not attacking. They move out, they have to take it with them. And then it’s vulnerable."

Raz’Qui: "They will likely stay for a time, to rebuild the walls and gather up supplies. In that time they can easily make many more."

Vel: "But what can mistresses friends do? Nothing’s changed. We still can’t fight armies. Better to find new allies or new weapons. Something we can achieve. And deliver these, tell them about danger." Vel gestures to the head and tusks.

DM62: Irena raises an eyebrow. "You know... there ARE other ways to take a fortress. Under elves are particularly good with... poisons."

Zyanya: "At the very least, they'll leave men behind to defend it. A garrison. But we'd basically need to rush back to tell them of the loss and if we commit our forces to retaking one city, we may very well lose this war before it truly begins."

Vel: "Yes. But orcs not dumb. They have spies on under mistresses. Good ones. So they know it will come, happen. It not easy."

Vel: "But mistress friends not generals. Why is mistress friends focusing on that? Tell generals ideas, let them decide, while we do what nine people and Vel can do."

Raz’Qui: "But it is a city in a fairly good spot near the mountains. Not to mention, dwarven steel in orcish hands will not bode well for your forces."

DM62: Arturus nods. "Well, we need to get a move on, either way. Need to retrieve Hel."

Raz'Qui nodded and set off at the faun that had rushed off.

((end of session))

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Seventh Session, 6 November (epilogue, an unpleasant journey, the sage, a lie)

Spoiler

DM62: "Hel... HEL!" The dwarf can hear Nisali's worried voice through the haze of pain. "I know it hurts, but you need to stay awake just a little while longer." He can feel her body jolting under him, as she sprints through the mountain pass at almost a full gallop. Hel can blearily see the black smoke still rising from the North between the mountains, then Nisali begins passing a tall peak on her right and the smoke goes out of sight.

Hel: The dwarf had been using his shield arm to hold onto Nisali- not necessarily on the reigns, just holding himself right as he bounces along her back. To their mercies, they hadn't stuffed his feet in the stirrups, saving more damage to his shattered foot, but it was still a hard ride the faun put him through. He gave a grunt at another heavy bump, however. "I'm here still lass, you can calm down..." he grumbles, though his voice is a little weaker.

DM62: "I know... I'm sorry to annoy you like this... but I need to keep you awake and talking as long as possible," the faun is audibly relieved as the dwarf grumbles. "Tell me something... tell me... oh. A story from your past. Tell me about the childhood of Helvoque Magmahammer, dwarven prince." There's a scrabbling in some rocks to the faun's left, and Hel hears her pull and release an arrow. There's more movement as whatever it was scampers off. She pants, still rushing forward. "Tell me about... how you grew up."

Hel: The dwarf turns his gaze to look to the movement, giving a grunt as he stops himself from going to get his hammer. It was far away right now, as was the means to hold it. "Not necessarily the safest place for a bit of storytelling, lass..." he quips, giving a shift to rest his working arm and tightening his legs a little to keep him secure. "Just hope that the rest are smart enough to warn someone of this by now..."

DM62: "Abysshounds." Nisali pants, still charging ahead. "They hear my hooves, and they smell your blood... and they smell my scent as well. Those damned minotaurs... put me in a bit of a state." She grunts in exertion. "So... now is the perfect time... for your story. Keep me distracted... keep you awake." She nocks and pulls another arrow, releasing it at a dark shape on a slope to the South. The shape retreats a short distance, then turns to watch the faun and rider.

Hel: "Oh..." the dwarf mumbles, sighing. Blast these last few days, making the woman tremble and the men bruised, and barely a time to rest between encounters before they're off again. "Moments like this where I need a crossbow," the dwarf quips. "To be honest, nothing too odd for our kin. Mostly secluded in the private quarters of our clan until I could hold a hammer, from there it was training in weapons and command doctrine and prepping me for my future. Not necessarily the most interesting tale, but it's a trend with our kind," he jests at the end.

DM62: "No... childhood friends? Who was... your most interesting tutor?" The faun sounds exhausted as she continues charging forward, but she lets loose another arrow, this time at a pair of shapes a bit further ahead. They scatter, but not too far.

Hel: The dwarf frowns as the shapes keep getting closer. "Not necessarily... A grumpy old codger did most of my tactical work, talking about some of the older clan wars he fought in and tended to not take sarcasm well..." he thinks for a bit. "There was this one lass that tried to teach me in long-weapon training, was the entire reason I have the axe. Got quite a few knocks over the skullcap from her..." He sighs. "Bah. I'm about as interesting as a stone, thick-headed and just as sense filled considering I let myself get thrashed for my own pride..."

DM62: "You fought her for honor, and for your homeland. And you might have had a good chance, but Arturus mentioned that she had mastered some kind of ancient fighting style. Apparently, when the elves were fighting among themselves a few centuries ago, they trained some orcs in a hybrid fighting art called the Kha'athri. A combination of elven grace and orcish strength. Arturus seemed to think it had disappeared, until your fight with Malgra." She spots another hound skulking ahead on the trail, and this time it takes a direct hit with an arrow to deter the creature, who yelps and runs off a distance.

Hel: "Bah... if more of my kin stuck their heads out of the ground, we may have known how to defend from it," he remarks, shaking his head. "First time I saw all ya lot, thought you'd be no better than a bunch of random barbarians considering how you lot preferred warfare. The humans and their love of horseback maneuvers, them elves and their trickery and archers... And yet here are all of us, willing to stand around in a tunnel holding shields up until they get close..." he rambles, shaking his head. "Not looking like any of that's gonna help much with the orc lass..."

DM62: "We haven't lost the war yet, Hel," the faun pants, firing off another arrow. The hounds look to be closing in from all sides. Then the path seems to open up, and Nisali is running downhill. A tower comes into view, a stone structure that seems to blend in with the gray foothills on the other side of the Southtooth mountains. The hounds keep their distance from the pair now, clearly not as bold with the structure in sight. "There it is. That's where Ashur the sage trained Arturus. Her master dwells there, as well. An old gnome. He's very nice, just... don't get on his bad side. I've seen him play some really mean tricks on an imperious Kalifer tax collector."

Hel: "I can imagine..." he mumbles, giving a light snort. Mages in general were dangerous lot, and he glances back, noting how the beasts seemed to halt, despite the obvious lust for the faun and hunger in their eyes. "Er... something tells me this sage's made a name for herself here."

DM62: The faun chuckles nervously, slowing slightly with the danger somewhat past. "Well... the legend is that there was another mountain here, at one point. And that the old gnome knocked it down with his will alone, shaping it into the tower." The pair nears the tower, and Hel notices the strangest thing: the gray stone structure doesn't have any seams. No bricks, no mortar... it appears to be carved from a single smooth piece of stone. There's an elderly gnome sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe as he watches the faun and dwarf approach.

Hel: The dwarf's eyes focus on the stone tower, giving a bit of a nod. "If my eyes aren't clouded, it could very well be true, lass. Sturdiest stonework I've seen this side of the primal age constructions back home..." he mumbles. As they near the dwarf, he stays silent, letting the faun speak. Surely they know each other, so he shouldn't pressure too much. His weariness is catching up, however...

DM62: "Dammit, stay awake, Hel!" The faun is relentless in her efforts to keep him awake. At this point the gnome puts his pipe down on a barrel next to his simple chair. "Nisali? Why are you bringing me bloody dwarves? And where is your master, Arturus?" The faun pants as she nears him, slowing, "Arturus... and the others... are east. He sent me to ask... Ashur to... help mend Hel's wounds." The elderly gnome rises to squint at the dwarf. Even for a gnome, the sage looks... ancient. His face is wrinkled like an old raisin, his eyes almost lost in deep eye sockets, the hair on his face wild and white and unruly. Finally he grunts. "Better bring him inside." He pulls at a round wooden door, opening a path into a clean, well-lit home. Nisali moves to enter.

Hel: The dwarf huffs a little, giving a bit of a nod of his head—a simple greeting that's usually reserved to elders, considering how frail and sore they can get in age, a lot more kind than boisterous words and drunken headbutts. "Apologies for the imposing, master gnome... I tried to fell a beast that knew quite well how to bite back..." he can't help but quip.

DM62: The gnome pauses, raising his bushy white eyebrows in response to the dwarf, then he grunts. "Sounds like a very cunning beast. Maybe next time you'll find a different tactic, young man. Or maybe you'll be smart, and there won't be a next time." Nisali carries him into a moderately-sized room. One wall is adorned with shelves and bottles full of different fluids. The ancient gnome produces a knife, starting to cut away the rope binding the dwarf to his mount. "Right, Nisali... help me get him onto the slab. Then fetch me my bag." Hel is shifted with great care onto a stone slab.

Hel: "Doubt it, it was the beast responsible for this war," he quips back. "At least this way there's some wisdom of next time- grab a bow and don't challenge to a duel." He gives a groan as he's helped down by the faun, offering a bit of thanks to her as well- for as quiet as she was during this entire journey thus far, she was quite clever and well-versed in terrain to have gotten him here. Kinda reminded him of that chimera the spider-woman brought, a bit more clever and powerful than she let on, but knew when to use it to advantage.

DM62: "Right... first thing's first, young man. Drink this." He hands the dwarf a vial containing a yellow, foul-smelling brew. "A potion of healing. Just mixed it this morning. Or last week. I forget. Either way, it will help save your life." Nisali returns with a black leather satchel, and the gnome looks in the bag for a moment, nodding.

Hel: There's a grunt of the rather caustic smell assaulting his nose, but he manages to work his shield off his arm and takes the brew in his good hand. "Can't be worse than swillmead," he jests, taking a short guzzle of the contents.

DM62: The drink is foul, but goes down easily enough. The gnome nods, starting to unbuckle the dwarf's armor, removing it. He pauses as he gets a better look at the wound. "Nisali. Someone froze the wound." There's acid in the old gnome's voice, and the faun cringes. "I'm sorry, sir. It was our dragonkin companion. He acted before we could stop him." The elder shakes his head, turning to the dwarf. "Well, it looks like you're not going to be able to use your old hand, after all. Tell me, dwarf princeling... what do you want to use this arm for? Does it have a purpose for you, a meaning, beyond warfare and killing?" His expression is unreadable.

Hel: The dwarf grimaces. "A dwarf's fist is how one interacts with the world. If there is a dwarf kingdom left after this war, it needs a leader who will be as comfortable writing with a quill as he is wielding a hammer on the warlines. A way to lug a mug of fine ale, to caress a lover... I doubt it'd be possible, but some way of at least emulating that dexterity and usefulness would be nice."

DM62: The elder gives the smallest of nods. "Not making my job easy... but I like your answer, young man." With the faun's help, he removes the rest of Hel's armor, cutting away clothing around the handless arm and the leg with the crushed ankle. "Looks like you're going to lose the foot, too. The bones in your lower leg are smashed into splinters." He nods to the faun, and she helps the gnome to strap Hel to the slab. Hel feels odd, like his mouth is dry and full of cotton balls. Indeed, his muscles don't seem to respond to him, and his vision is swimming a little.

Hel: With his muscles leaving his command, Hel sighs, letting the gnomish mage work as he shakes his head. To be fair, he probably got off easy--if this were a proper battle with the orcish warlord, he probably would be dead.

DM62: Hel's vision grows blurry, but he can still make out the elder gnome's face. He looks at the dwarf sadly, as the dwarf's consciousness begins to fade. "I am sorry, princeling. I am afraid that I deceived you. There is no such thing... as a potion of healing." The dwarf can feel another strap tightening around his chest, and then the elderly gnome reaches into the black satchel, producing a knive curved outwards with a keen edge. "But there are sleeping potions. And either way," Hel's vision goes black, "it will help save your life."

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Eighth Session, 12 November (part one, the pass, picking locks, the gnome)

Spoiler

DM62: So... the party was left on the eastern edge of the Southtooth Mountains, having just watched Hel lose a hand and a leg to Warchief Malgra in a duel. Arturus sent Hel atop Nisali the faun, rushing through a narrow mountain pass to bypass Grand Forge and travel to the tower of his Master, Ashur the Sage, who would hopefully be able to heal him. Or, at least, save his life.

Zyanya: "Spirits above, we got in over our heads with all this. So we gonna pick up Hel first or are we going to warn our superiors first about the recent news? I don't think they'd like to find out they're losing ground when the enemy comes marching to their doorstep"

Raz’Qui let the elf lead the way to the tower he claimed was nearby. Though he frowned as he walked with the rest of the party, shame he couldn't race ahead to keep a look out.

Zyanya: "Just feel like we're running short on time now"

Vel follows along Thrae.

Thrae: "I think it will be fine, I doubt the orcs will be able to move that fast. We should pick up the dwarf first before we head back."

Zyanya: "Oi. Hold up. I saw something nearby. In the foothills. Someone in the direction of Grand Forge.

Raz’Qui: "If they just took the city they will spend some time there looting, as well as fortifying the city and repairing any damage they did to its defenses."

Zyanya: "Might be worth checking out. Or I could take a peak over and see what it is."

DM62: The party spots what Zyanya noticed. Looks to be a solitary figure in the foothills, a ways from the party. At this point the figure moves slightly, and a projectile is launched... an arrow, arching toward the party.

Raz tilted his head up to the air, sniffing to see if they were up wind from them. "I can take a look if you want. I can be quite quick on my feet."

Vel observes the arrow as it arcs, scooting to the side if she was in its path.

Zyanya: "Not sure if the arrow is a friendly sign or not. Didn't the orc say something about firing an arrow in the event we get too close?"

Raz’Qui: "Yes, I doubt it will hit anyone."

Thrae sees the arrow, and as its coming toward them, sends out a burst of wind magic, hoping to slow it so it fell before it got to the party.

DM62: The arrow thunks down about five feet in front of the party, and the figure begins moving out of sight. Arturus shakes his head. "No, we're more than a mile from Grand Forge." The smuggler chuckles. "Yeah, this is different." He moves up to the arrow, snapping it in half... and revealing a small scroll. "Green and yellow feathering. This is from one of our people in Malgra's forces."

Zyanya: "Open it up then. See what it says."

Raz’Qui: "Seems you have a spy who wishes to tell us something of importance. What does it say?"

DM62: "Malgra's forces are splitting. One force staying in Grand Forge, one heading west to Sprocket Port to attack Axetan by sea. Also..." the smuggler frowns. "Shit. Looks like there's something of a split within our own ranks now, with the victory over Grand Forge. I'll have to... help deal with the insurrection." Sir Malius' eyes go wide. "Axetan? They're attacking Axetan?"

Raz’Qui: "That does not bode well. Seems we either have a choice, head on to the tower for Hel, or race ahead to warn your force and Axetan about the approaching army. We will need to move now either way."

Zyanya: "Splitting the forces I saw coming. They wouldn't leave an entire army in one city. But the attack on Axetan is concerning, especially since it'll be by sea. But at the same time, the number of forces attacking will be smaller at the very least. Maybe more manageable even. But rest assured Sir Malius, they haven't gotten there yet. We still have time."

Raz’Qui: "If they are already moving, it means they took the city sooner than we thought and the looting and raping is already finished."

Thrae: "Or that they just left only enough forces to maintain the siege there and sent the rest away."

DM62: Jenna nods. "Either way, we should head west, yes? And the pass is our best option?" Arturus nods to the gnome, then turns to the dragonkin. "Perhaps as much as it could be. But I have seen the great halls of Grand Forge. They had massive barriers that could be erected to cut off parts of the city, in case of invasion. I doubt that Grand Forge is completely conquered. Just up to the impassable barriers."

Raz’Qui: "Still, splitting means they are confident it will be theirs soon. Either way, we need to head out if we hope to warn Axeton. Grand Forge will only occupy them for a little while longer before they head to join the main force."

DM62: Sir Malius nods, a determined gleam in his eye. "Axetan is the last line of defense before they have easy access to the fertile farmlands of Tillshire. Not to mention, Axetan is a logging town. They'll have all the lumber and food they need for the final assault on Ritzerite and Forest's Heart. If Malgra takes Axetan... it's the end of the game, really. But it's a town of stout lumberjacks, and we've been training them on how to use their axes for combat. Won't give up without a stiff fight."

Raz nodded as he set out towards where they were heading. "May as well stop lollygagging and get ourselves moving."

Zyanya: "So one way or the other, we need to move and move now lest we lose a major source of lumber and food. I'd rather not just hand the enemy the supplies and resources they need. The war will be over if we let that happen. Let's not waste time." Regardless of what the party did, she'd begin heading west as they planned, taking point.

DM62: The smuggler nods. "I have to leave you, shortly after we reach that tower. But I feel like I have an obligation to my pretty Shiriti." He winks at Zyanya. "So I will help this little one learn a little about locks and traps." He reaches down to scratch behind Vel's ears with a smile.

Vel follows Thrae once she starts moving.

Thrae: Most of the overworld names meant little to Thrae, and so she continued heading west with the rest, letting the rest worry about the safety of the overworld cities.

DM62: The smuggler spends the next several hours lecturing Vel on the various types of locks, how to pick them, and then types of traps and how to avoid them. "Of course," he warns, "the trickiest traps are completely undetectable. Hidden behind doors and such." There's howling from the mountains around the narrow pass, and occasionally the party can spot canine shapes skulking and stalking above them. Arturus looks up with a scowl. "Abysshounds. But they won't bother a group our size. Not unless they get REALLY hungry. Or really horny."

Vel listens and observes, though often looks to her mistress to make sure she's not being bad for listening, and does her best to do as instructed. She fumbles a fair bit, being brand new but she seems to have some aptitude for it and more importantly seems to actively enjoy fighting with the locks, though she occasionally get's annoyed and gnaws on them.

Raz nodded as he glanced up at the hounds. Giving them a loud feral roar if they got a little to close to persuade them otherwise. "So what can we expect at this tower?" He chuckles as he watches Vel's attempts to eat the locks. "Unless your teeth are as strong as mine, all you’re going to get is a tooth ache trying to eat them."

Thrae gave Vel the go ahead to listen to the smuggler, any new skills she could learn would be useful after all. The sounds of the abysshounds was more drawing her attention, the baying putting her on edge a bit. And she wondered if they'd end up having to deal with them either for the former or later reason.

Zyanya: Hungry and Horny. That could pretty much describe any man she slept with in the past couple years. But with her group, she doubted they'd be a nuisance. "Let’s keep pushing on then. As you said, they'll leave us alone for the most part and I'd rather not get tangled up fighting anything right now. A minutes delay could set up back a great deal." She had to admit, watching Vel learn her new skills was quite amusing. Hopefully she'd put the skills to good use.

DM62: The smuggler is a patient teacher, but reprimands Vel every time she attempts to gnaw on a lock. "That's an excellent way to give a nice, big target to a poisoned needle trap. Or get an eye shot out by a poison dart trap. Locks are all about patience." He hands the chimera a big set of locks, all clumped together, and a bag full of differently-shaped picks. He also gives him a handful of sketches. "This should help you. It's diagrams only... many of our beginning operatives can't read." Arturus replies to the dragonkin, "My Master, Ashur the Sage... she's a... well... she's half-kitsune. Which is something that's not supposed to exist, apparently. Anyway... don't ask her about that. And her master is a grumpy old gnome. Whatever you do... don't mention his age. Or... you know what? Just try to avoid speaking to the old gnome, unless he asks you a question."

Raz’Qui: He nods a moment. "Fair enough, though I wager, I am likely older then this gnome."

Vel: "Vel can't read either. Vel appreciates this," murmurs Vel as she looks at the diagrams then the locks. She wasn't too worried about losing teeth, they just regrew anyways.

DM62: "I couldn't say, as far as the age goes." Arturus looks at the dragon, his eyes narrowing just a little. "But don't mention age. Oh. And there's a garden near the tower. Don't go near it." The smuggler nods, scratching behind Vel's ears again. "My pleasure, little furball."

Zyanya: "Well, not nearly as many rules to remember than when we were undergound. Should be easy enough to remember."

Raz’Qui: He gives a small shrug. "Magic isn't all that interesting to me anyway, nor do I have the apptitude for it. I likely won’t be doing much talking away."

Vel purrs as she works, nodding. "Vel wonders when she will need this though. Orc Mistress and Orcs seem break doors, not lock. Vel thinks useful in home where Vel's eyes not burn, but Vel's not there..."

DM62: Some of the diagrams are of locks, while others are of traps. The trap diagrams include very vivid, graphic depictions of what the traps will do to a person. In the diagrams, it's an unsuspecting gnome wearing gaudy attire, who smiles incessantly until the trap springs, at which point his smile becomes a frown while the lethal trap strikes.

Vel: "...Vel likes the pictures..."

DM62: It's nearly dawn when the party emerges into a large valley, with an expanse of grasslands that slowly give way to desert in the distance. In the middle of the valley, near the path, is a rather sizeable tower that looks to be hewn from a single rock... there are no breaks in the stone. No mortar, no discernable bricks, as though it was carved from a single piece of rock. At its base is a large round door. Sitting in front of the door is a small figure with a broad-brimmed hat pulled down over its face, slumped in what looks to be a comfortable wicker chair.

Vel looks about when they arrive, yawning a bit but pressing on. She didn't like the return of the deathball of bright but it seemed shelter lay ahead. She keeps studying the diagrams as she goes, using her tail to multi task her vision so she didn't trip.

Zyanya: "Quite the construction here. Can't say I know much about stone...but seems like something like this would be difficult to pull off without magic." She did see the figure, but didn't want to speak to them right away, leaving the talking here to the other members of the group.

DM62: Jenna moves close to Vel. "Um... dear... would you mind if I extracted a little of the venom from your tail? For later use?"

Vel: "...Vel's tail has venom?" she blinks in shock, "Um... If Vel does, then Jenna can have, yes."

DM62: Jenna chuckles, reaching back to softly stroke the snake tail. "Oh, yes. A very potent paralysis venom. Not the strongest stuff out there... but VERY useful." She chuckles, producing a small covered vial, and expertly extracting a few doses of the venom into the vial.

Vel blinks, musing. "Vel didn't know. Vel thinks most who get bit by Vel's tail don't live long enough to be poisoned. Vel doesn't waste time protecting mistress. Vel is happy to give Mistress Friend Jenna poison, she does not need it."

DM62: At this point the party nears the base of the tower and the figure in the chair. It looks to be a gnome with a white beard, peacefully napping with the hat covering his face. Arturus gulps uncomfortably, then very quietly clears his throat. There's a small noise from the gnome... light snoring.

Zyanya: "I think...he's sleeping." The Shiriti said with a soft tone and followed by a soft giggle. "I take it this is the gnome master who is the boss of your master. 3 generations of magic users under one roof."

DM62: The gnome snorts, starting at the noise of the Shiriti's voice. "That... that you, Ashur?" He reaches up, pulling the hat back and placing it on his head, blinking for a moment. He is almost undoubtedly the oldest gnome that anyone in the party has encountered, his eyes set back deep in their sockets, and he looks about the party for a moment, blinking. Then his eyes fix on Arturus, who gives him a very low, respectful bow. "My Lord. We have come seeking our dwarven friend and Nisali. I-" "Yes, yes. Sent them here to have Ashur patch them up. But Ashur isn't home, boy! Ashur's gathering herbs for my tea." He gives a hacking cough. "So I had to do it... and you know how my hands get, boy." The elf remains bowing as the gnome scolds him.

Vel blinks and sits down on all fours, watching the gnome curiously. She guessed he was a wizard or something of great power. Made sense. She just hoped he let them inside so she could see before that accursed hellball entered the surface ceiling.

Zyanya: "Forgive me sir. I didn't mean to wake you." The Shiriti woman bowed in apology but knew it might not make a huge difference. "We greatly appreciate the help you've given us."

DM62: The gnome takes one look at the chimera before giving a massive sneeze. "Dammit, boy. Don't you know... I'm allergic to chimera hair, boy!" He curses, sneezing again, then looking at Vel. "Just... just try not to shed on my furniture." He shakes his head, sniffling as he slowly rises, leaning on a wooden cane. "And a Shiriti. Well. Quite the assembly you've got here." He grumbles as he opens the round door. "Yes, yes, come in, your friend should be waking soon."

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Eighth Session, 12 November (part two, Hel gets a hand, Nisali needs a hand)

Spoiler

Vel looks then backs up and stays a reasonable distance, hiding a bit behind Thrae's legs. "...Vel will remain outside...," she mumbles. Getting a powerful wizard mad struck her as a really stupid idea to bring down on Thrae and herself.

Zyanya: Strange that he could tell where she was from. But she wasn't about to call him out or anything like that. "Vel, I don't think you need to stay outside, just be careful about where you walk is all. And how long as Hel been out?""

Vel: "Vel doesn’t want to make nice man who helps mistress friends not be broken sick. Unless mistress tells Vel to come Vel will stay here." Plus it was better for everyone’s overall health not to make him in poorer mood than he had been.

DM62: Nisali wanders over toward the chimera from the other side of the tower. She looks to have seen better days, shivering a little. She bites her lip, blushing as she sees Vel. "Since his arrival, almost. I... gave him something to help him sleep," answers the gnome, speaking a little less sternly as he enters the tower. The interior is a well-appointed home, and in a back room on the first floor the party enters an immaculate room with a white bed in the middle... and Hel, who is starting to awaken. His wounded arm and his wounded leg are both wrapped up tight in some kind of material.

Vel looks up at seeing Nisali, blinking, and walks on all fours to her. "Why you look bad, Mistress Friend, Nisali? Not used to drider egg birth? Or something else wrong? … Oh, Mino addiction! That it right?"

DM62: Nisali shivers a little, her flush getting deeper as the chimera approaches. "Um... yes?"

Zyanya: "Spirits above. You look like you've been though one rough night." She comments as she sees the state Hel's in. "Though, at least the room looks pleasant enough." She tried to make light of things.

Vel nods. "You should maybe ask others to fix. Or maybe you can ask mistress to use magic to help make less bad?"

DM62: The old gnome points to a chest on a small table on the other end of the room. "Boy. Bring that chest over to the dwarf princeling. And then unwrap his limbs." Arturus nods respectfully, bringing a wooden chest over to the bed, placing it near the dwarf, then starting to unwrap Hel's arm.

Nisali shudders. "Gnome said... just time. Though... he also said that..." She turns bright red now. "He said that if I wanted to be a 'filthy beast and get rutted out,' it would feel better."

Vel nods, musing. "Well, mistress might do it, or you could ask human who you usually rut with. Vel smelt him on you before. Mistress could also use magic to take away lustiness."

Thrae: "Hmmm, well I can help with that too either way." Thrae said with a smirk. She could make anyone Nasalia decided to go with last a long time, or she could give the girl some play with her ovipositor.

Hel: The dwarf finally awakens, blinking a bit as his good hand rubs at his head- that is, until he sees the others. "Blustering molehills... Dammit, what are you lot doing here?!?" he asks. "You should'a warned the royals!!!"

DM62: The faun nods. "He's inside... I could wait. Unless..." she looks at the chimera. "Unless maybe you could... help?" Vel can smell her arousal.

Zyanya: "Whatever you decide, best take it elsewhere." She was quick to remind them as they came to a decision. In the meanwhile, she focused her attention back on Hel and Arturus. "We have that planned, big guy. Just don't worry about it."

Vel: "Vel belongs to mistress. Sorry. But mistress could help? Though perhaps Vel could use hands to help Mistress Friend Nisali..." muses Vel, shivering at the scent, "But most Vel can do."

DM62: Arturus doesn't respond just yet, unwrapping the arm completely. The arm looks as though it's been... sliced open lengthwise, with four long incisions, then stitched back together again. The stump has been cut back a little ways, with a flat, silvery metal end. In the center of the metal surface is a hole. The gnome smiles a little. "My best work in some time. Go ahead. Open the chest." He nods to Hel. Meanwhile, Arturus is unwrapping his leg's bindings.

Hel: The dwarf inspects his arm, looking over the resulting medicinal work. "Hrm..." he mumbles, rubbing the hand to his beard and scrutinizing it. It was quite unlike anything he's ever seen with the healers of his own lot. Doing as instructed, he goes to open the chest now put next to him.

Thrae stood near Vel and Nisali, she was fine with helping the faun if she wanted help, she wasn't exactly going to go offering her services more then she had already though. Vel seemed intent on doing that anyways.

DM62: In the chest is a metal gauntlet, with a flarestone on the back of the hand, and an extension that looks like it will plug into the socket. There's also a foot, with a flarestone on the top of it. The gnome nods. "Had to removes all the flesh and muscle tissue. Covered the bones with magically-attuned steel. Same with your leg." At this point the potion wears off completely, and Hel is in agonizing pain. "Oh. And... yeah. There's gonna be some soreness."

Hel: The dwarf grunts and grits his teeth. "I'm sure... they'll be plenty of orcs to pass the agony onto," he growls, getting his new limbs into place as he does his best to suppress the snarls of pain.

DM62: The gnome nods, and Hel feels a static charge as he touches the new parts. "That's the hand and foot attuning to you. The flarestones will help a bit with the pain... and you can occasionally use them to give those limbs a bit of a... boost." He chuckles. "The gauntlet is only good for warfare. But Ashur will have your old hand, and she's got much better fingers than I do. She'll make you a worthy replacement, though it may take some time." Vel and Thrae spot someone approaching from the north. A cloaked figure.

Hel: The dwarf nods a bit. "Either way, it'll do for now, get me back on the road and good to go... Quite the marvel of magic and technology here, thank you, master wizard..."

Thrae: "Again?" Thrae thought to herself as she saw the figure coming, "Can we not get 15 minutes without someone showing up?" Either way Thrae prepared her staff, just in case this person was hostile, and when they got close enough she'd say. "Who are you?"

Vel watches though stays close to both Nisali and Thrae in case she has to defend them.

Zyanya: "In all my years I haven't seen anything like this...the use of magic and technology as one unified force. It's...quite interesting."

DM62: "I live in that tower," a clear female voice cuts through the morning. "I think the question is, who are you?" Nisali smiles, running toward the figure.

Vel blinks then sits down, as Nisali runs over to someone she knew. Well, maybe she would help Nisali’s problem then. She liked the faun well enough, but her body belonged to her mistress, it wasn't hers to use on anyone but her. And only with her permission.

DM62: The gnome shrugs. "It is something that Ashur developed. I initially punished her for it... she was capturing large bugs from the north, and doing experiments with animating their limbs. But ultimately she showed me that her cruelty toward the bugs had something of a noble purpose. Even if I found her methods distasteful."

Raz frowned at the talk and shook his head. He then wandered back outside to check on the little one and their newly turned vampire. Figuring it might be wise to keep an eye on her. No sense in letting her eat someone and have an angry gnome wizard turning them all to ash or worse.

Hel: The dwarf frowns a little at that, rubbing his beard a little again as he thought. Still, he did have a point. "Mmmgh. Still, might wanna watch that one. She sounds like the type take her craft a bit far in the end. If you'd pardon my bluntness of course..."

DM62: The approaching figure pulls back her hood, revealing a beautiful, feminine face, surrounded by straight black hair, with a single strain of white. She gives the faun a hug. Nisali looks back at the group, her addiction momentarily forgotten. "Vel, Thrae, this is Mistress Ashur. Sorry... Master Ashur." The female nods to the drider and chimera.

Thrae: "Good to meet you Ashur." Thrae said with a nod, to the woman who taught there companion. The elf was certainly attractive, and seemed friendly.

Vel nods to the two.

Zyanya: "Still. Something like that could be beneficial to so many should down the line and it's easier to access. The lives it could save."

DM62: The gnome scowls. "Princeling, I've considered that possibility. But without people like her... there would be no advancements in magic or technology. No innovation. She may hurt some, in her quest for knowledge. But the generations to follow will not remember that pain. Only the benefit of her genius. And Ashur is the most intelligent woman... no. The most intelligent Sage that I have ever known."

Raz’Qui: RazRaz steps outside with a sigh, his wings flexing now that he was outside in getting some fresh air. Even if he was clipped and unable to fly, he still found stuffy towers like the gnome's uncomfortable. He preferred large open windows in his buildings. Seeing the small gathering he wandered over. "Take it you are the gnome's companion?" He gave a small nod. "At least three more inside."

Vel: "Vel here because mistress here."

Thrae: "There are more, we're here because our friend was badly wounded and we brought him here in the hopes that we'd be able to get some help for him."

DM62: The gnome shrugs. The flarestones really do help to ease the pain, though it's still quite sore. "It will be less painful tomorrow. Just... don't use them to boost your strength for at least a week. Otherwise you might shred your muscles apart. In a very literal and permanent sense, princeling."

DM62: Ashur nods. "I see. Has my master been helping him?" She is walking toward the tower's entrance.

Raz’Qui: "Last I saw, he was helping him with his new limbs."

Hel: The dwarf grimaces. "Duly noted... Hopefully the war waits for that long, eh?" he jests.

DM62: Sir Malius shakes his head. "It might be over in a few months. Malgra has split her forces. She leaves half in Grand Forge, and sends the other half to Sprocket Port, to take Axetan by sea. We'll need to move swiftly, if we plan to beat her navy to the town. If she takes Axetan, she'll be able to take Tillshire with almost no effort. And then she'll have all the lumber and food she could possibly want to march on Ritzerite and Forest's Heart, and no meaningful opposition from the west."

DM62: The female sage moves quickly now, entering the tower. "Master, I brought the herbs for your tea. Do you... require assistance, with the... injured... person?" The beautiful woman enters Hel's bedchamber, looking at the dwarf. "I suppose not."

Raz glanced to the drider and the little chimera. "How are you doing with your newest gift?"

Zyanya: "The situation is very fragile and we have a great deal to do in precious little time. From the looks of it we might take to the seas to get to Axetan. No stranger to the waters, given I had to get to the mainland from my home."

Hel: The dwarf sighs, shaking his head. "Bah... I can see why you didn't tarry to the keep and warn the command... we need to beat that navy and set up defenses... Split as her forces may have been, they will still be formidable..."

DM62: The smuggler looks pensive. "You guys would need to get a ship, though. And the nearest port is Sprocket Port. Though they've got mercenaries and pirates. You might be able to get a ship there before Malgra's forces arrive, beat her to Axetan that way."

Zyanya: "But Hel is still right. We do also need to warn the bosses. I think they'd rather have advanced warning of such impending dangers. But it would mean turning right and heading to Sprocket port without a moments delay."

DM62: Clark Gable tilts his head. "I can arrange to get word to Ritzerite, if that's what you're worried about."

Thrae: "I am feeling surprisingly good for being technically undead." Thrae said to the dragon man. "Much stronger than before, but I wish we were back underground where there wasn't a sun to deal with." Then Thrae looked Raz over. "I wonder, would you be up to help relieve my chimera of some of the burden of providing me blood? You seem like you should have much to spare."

Vel: "Vel will serve as much as Mistress requires," says Vel tiredly, sitting down and looking over her diagrams since Nisali seemed to have decided to wait for Malius instead.

Hel: "Probably would be smart... Nothing stopping Malgra to start cutting through to Forest's Heart even with the attack on Axetan in progress..."

DM62: The faun is laying on her side on the grass, shivering a little and waiting.

Raz looked at her curiously a long moment, thinking on her offer. "I suppose, but I am a mercenary and don't do anything without getting paid. And as long as you can promise it won’t make me like you."

Vel steps over by Nisali. "...Why so stubborn?"

Zyanya: "That is a concern, sir. But if you can get word to them faster than we can, it'll allow us to push onward to Axetan. A good head start will save time and if we're lucky, lives."

DM62: Nisali looks up at the chimera. "W-well you seemed uncomfortable... helping me." She blushes again, shivering. "So... I figured... I'd wait."

DM62: The smuggler chuckles. "You don't need to call me 'sir,' pretty lady. Just call me Sean. Sean Connery. Yup. That'll do."

Thrae: "As long as I don't suck you dry, it should be fine." Thrae said. "Though not sure how I would pay you given I don't carry much money on me unless I plan to purchase something."

Vel: "Vel doesn’t own her body, mistress does. It's not Vel's to offer. You seem reluctant to ask her to help though. Why?"

DM62: "B-because I had a bad experience with driders."

Raz’Qui: He thought a moment, looking her over curiously. "There are always other ways to pay instead of with coin, such as items, services, information and the like."

Hel: The dwarf shrugs, gathering some of his things as everyone discusses. "Well, sooner we can depart the better.. Plenty of problems to worry about as we travel though the wastes ahead... Such as Sprocket Port's no doubt guarded gates..."

Vel: "Mistress would help you. But Vel understands. Vel could still use her hands though. But if you really want Vel to beg mistress for permission, Vel could... You'd owe Vel though, and that would be bad yes? Owing things to property?"

DM62: Irena looks thoughtful. "Doubt they'd have a problem with a dragonkin visitor... but the rest of you are humans and elves and dwarves and... well, Vel and Thrae. Still, I suppose I could use a little shadow magic to make us look like proper greenskins. Only one of you would be able to speak for the group, though. Otherwise the illusion would be broken."

DM62: Nisali's lower lip trembles as she looks at the chimera. "But... I thought we were allies. And we just... helped each other?"

Thrae: "Hmm, well we'll see. I am full for now but it'll only be so long before the hunger comes back." Thrae said, though Raz may be able to notice the very slightest blush on her as she thought of other methods of payment, though the air she had was that if he brought it up at all he'd probably regret it.

Zyanya: "Us as greenskins? Oh goodness, that'll be something to see. Though I always did wonder what I might look like as one of them..." The Shiriti said, picturing the image in her head. "Though...there is another way to go about it without having to worry about disguises and illusions."

Raz’Qui: He gave a small nod, smirking as he noticed her blush, seemed she had something in mind. "Fair enough. Don't wait too long to decide though. It will be bad for all of us if you lose control and eat somebody." Sniffing he turned to look at the poor faun and Vel. "You alright there? Need help?"

Raz’Qui: He gave a small nod, smirking as he noticed her blush, seemed she had something in mind. "Fair enough. Don't wait too long to decide though. It will be bad for all of us if you lose control and eat somebody." Sniffing he turned to look at the poor faun and Vel. "You alright there? Need help?"

Vel: "Vel is mistress property. Vel is ally as long as mistress is ally. But slaves don’t ask owners for things. Never hear pot ask cook for things." She looks over then, "Though Vel not get into it if you rather Raz instead."

DM62: The faun rolls onto her stomach, exposing her dripping hindquarters needfully. "Yes... I could... use some help... i-if you don't mind."

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Eighth Session, 12 November (part three, Nisali gets a hand, departure, questionable options)

Spoiler

Raz’Qui: He looked to Vel. "Were you going to help or, or should I? Seems the minotaurs have left their mark on her."

Vel nods and pats Nisali's tummy. "There, see, all works out. Nisali gets what needs and does not need debase self by asking property for favors. Can ask people instead." She nods and heads back to her papers, returning to reading, looking over, "No, you go ahead. Vel only can help if mistress lets her, and that is trouble for all. Vel has been bad slave too much already."

Vel: "...Vel throat going bad again... Too talk much..."

DM62: The gnome scowls. "Right... well... you folks shouldn't waste any time here. Quests and wars and whatnot." Ashur folds her arms. "Master, I'd like to help them." The gnome scoffs. "Why? Why would you involve yourself in their affairs in such a way?"

Thrae: "Hmmm," Thrae said as she looked at Vel. Then said. "Come here Vel." She figured she might as well give her an excuse to not talk and re-gag her in 'punishment' for her talking so much recently.

Raz shrugs a moment, pondering how much time they had. If he was quick it might be alright. He knelt down and closed up his fist. He then gently pressed it against her needy lips before thrusting in. His fist beginning to pump into her.

Vel nods and walks over to Thrae

DM62: The faun gasps, her hot insides squeezing and spasming around the intruding fist. "Fuck... oh... fuck meee..." She shudders, juices spraying out a bit onto the dragonkin's wrist... it would not take her very long.

Hel: The dwarf stays silent, having regathered armor and shield, and was testing the gauntlet's hold over his hammer for a moment out of curiosity.

Zyanya: "I must say, I'm surprised. We'd appreciate all the help in the world but don't you have duties and obligations here to tend to?"

Raz’Qui: "Very well." He then quickly picked up the pace, his fist wiggling about to rub against her insided as he fists her roughly. His other hand offering the faun a finger, curious to see what she would do.

Vel glanced over in amusement at Rai doing what she had been offering to do and had been turned down on.

Thrae: Turning away from Raz helping the faun, Thrae tapped her staff on the ground, and Vel had her mouth gagged once more. Quietly she added afterwards. "There, now you can rest your voice for a bit."

Vel nods and goes and takes a seat by her diagrams and locks, working at them.

DM62: The gauntlet is shaped perfectly for the hammer, and the hammer's flarestone glows a little as the fist closes around it. Ashur shakes her head. "We could end this war, Master. In days." The gnome grunts. "And once you've ended their war, what then? Will you cure all their diseases? Feed and teach all their children? Clean out their gutters?"

DM62: The faun's eyes are closed in rapture, and she doesn't even notice the finger, her insides clamping around the fist as she screams and shudders in climax.

Raz’Qui: He chuckles softly and continues to fist her roughly. He fist wiggling and grinding into her to draw out her pleasure as long as he can with her. His muscles easily overpowering the faun's inner ones as he continued.

DM62: Nisali wails helplessly, her insides clenching around the dragonkin's hand as she orgasms again.

Zyanya: "I can respect the need to help in a lands time of need. My people could have stayed silent. Stayed on our island and not interfered. But my mother thought that would be shortsighted and sent me in the hopes of using our people’s strength to help. I understand Master Ashur's desire to help."

Thrae wanted to head inside, but she couldn't help but hang around to watch the on-goings outside. Also cause someone needed to keep watch incase those Abysshounds came back.

Raz’Qui: He lets out another chuckle as he quickens his fist's pace. "Shall I stop, or continue till you pass out?" He smiles as he thrusts more of his arm into her, finding her limits as he continued to thrust with his fist. His arm wiggling just a tad each time he hit her limit.

DM62: The ancient gnome shakes his head. "Continue to study, Ashur. Gain knowledge. Cure disease for this world, regardless of the war's outcome... and maybe you can even find a way to make the new Special Hell Chat more reliable."

DM62: The faun is beyond the use of words, shaking and shuddering her way through another orgasm, unable to communicate.

Raz’Qui: He shook his head as he continued his torturous treatment of the fawn with his fist. His hand beginning to flex as he thrusted it into to increase her pleasure. His free hand gently reached to her bosom and gently massaged her breasts, his palms rubbing against her nipples.

Hel: "Well that last one's a hopeless cause, master Gnome. But perhaps at least we can stop this war."

Thrae: Vel would rather easily be able to tell that Thrae was getting a bit aroused from watching this. It was kinda hard not to, though unfortunately they wouldn't be able to do anything about it for now.

Zyanya: "One thing at a time. And even then, not all things are sovable in this world. LEast not in one lifetime."

DM62: Ashur shakes her head. "I will respect your wishes, my Master." She turns to Arturus. "Apprentice. Come outside. I would send you off with my blessing."

Vel noted Thrae's mood. Well, she had the power to deal with it on her own at the time if she didn't want to make a public display. Keeping her secrets was her responsibility now.

DM62: The faun gives another shriek, and finally collapses, fainting onto the grass, Raz'Qui's arm covered in her juices.

Raz’Qui: He smiles and stops his motions for now. Giving the faun a few long moments to breath and relax before sliding his hand out. He then poured some of his water skin over his arm to clean most of the juices off his arm. Standing, he adjusted his pants, a rather sizable bulge visible as he wandered back to the drider to wait for the others.

Vel shrugged and watched. She was glad Nisali got what she needed. She moved over there with her study tools in tow, and wriggled beneath Nisali's head, letting herself be used as a pillow while she studies her locks. She did feel a bit bad about not being to help her cus of culture but, she wasn’t a person.

Zyanya was a little disappointed they wouldn't have a fresh set of hands to fight the enemy with. But if her master wished it, she wasn't about to stand in the way or ask her to defy him. "I apologize for trying to force the issue, sir."

Thrae: "Well, you dealt with that rather effectively." Thrae said as she looked at the unconscious faun, and her eyes couldn't help but flick to Raz's bulge a few times as he came over. The dragonman could likely smell that his treatment of the faun had gotten the drider a bit horny.

Raz’Qui: He smiled a moment and nodded as he caught her sneaking a few glances. "Yeah, minotaur cum can be quite troubling to deal with. I have even seen a few men grow addicted to it as well. It isn't the easiest addiction to kick." His smile grew even bigger as he caught scent of her arousal. "Seems someone enjoyed the show as much as I did."

DM62: The gnome says nothing, scowling under his long white beard and bushy eyebrows. Arturus gives him a long, low, respectful bow before walking outside, followed by Ashur. The elderly gnome turns to the dwarf prince. "Best get going, princeling. You have an uncomfortable journey ahead of you, before you reclaim your realm for your people."

Zyanya: "Thank you again, sir for all the help." Zyanya bowed out of respect before heading outside with the others.

Thrae: "Ahh, yes, it is hard not to feel something after such a scene." Thrae said, shifting on her legs as she flushed a bit. Then Arturus came outside, and Raz would hear a near explosive sigh coming from the drider. Evidently disappointed that the others had arrived. Quietly she said before the others joined them, "Well, maybe I can help you with that," Her eyes flicked down knowingly, "Tonight, in exchange for a bit of blood?"

DM62: Zyanya emerges just in time to spot the half-kitsune sage slipping something into the half-elf's hand and whispering in his ear. He nods. "I understand, Master. After we defend Axetan... I will see it done."

Hel: The dwarf slowly follows everyone else out, grumbling as he gets used to the faux foot.

Raz’Qui: He gave a small smile and a shrug. "We shall see tonight, wont we?" Teasing her with a chance she might not be able to sate either of her hungers this night. He turned to the others curiously. "Are we ready to get going, we are on a bit of a deadline."

Zyanya: Well, that was an interesting sight. She wasn't about to interrupt the discussion between master and apprentice and would merely stand to the side, waiting for the two to finish. She'd ask the half-elf about it later.

DM62: Arturus nods, turning to the group. "Well..." he notes the faun. "Nisali? Are you alright, my dear?" The faun stirs, rising slowly, blushing. "Yes, sir. I... I am... fine." She blushes a little more furiously, glancing at the dragonkin for just a second. Sir Malius raises an eyebrow with a slight smirk, but says nothing.

Vel gets up now that Nisali didn’t need her as a pillow anymore, picking up her things and walking back over to Thrae to stand beside her, ready to go.

Raz’Qui: He chuckled softly, he was a little surprised the people in the tower had not heard the faun screaming out her pleasure. "So have you guys settled on a plan of action and a route?"

Hel ignores the rather awkward situation that people apparently were doing outside, digging through for his own map. He hums, thinking for a route. "We could cut straight across the desert, though that'd leave us visible and no doubt fried..."

Zyanya: "Is there any other route to get to the port? Or is the desert just the quickest option?"

Raz’Qui: "The desert shouldn't be too hard. My breath can chill air to make water if I do not have enough water myself to use. But we need to get ahead of the army and get word to them with time to respond if we hope to do anything to stop them."

DM62: The smuggler nods. "Well. I'm off. You folks have fun sneaking into a goblin port and defending a logging town from a naval invasion." He gives Zyanya a wink, then starts strolling back east through the pass, whistling to himself quietly. Ashur sniffs the air. "Smells like... sex... out here. You lot best clear out, before my master catches the... scent. He's a bit... well... traditional. About that stuff."

Zyanya: "Well, let’s at least get moving. Putting some distance between us and tower so we can further discuss our plans." She waved off the smuggler, knowing he would have some lovely memories of her to remember her by.

Vel follows Thrae once she starts moving

Hel: The dwarf shakes his head. "The problem isn't so much the terrain. The problem is running into Orc Patrols, or Sandrazors, or anything else that may have allied with the orcs. Hugging Kalifer's maw isn't a good idea either, for if the jungle life doesn't kill us, the trolls will."

Raz’Qui: "No sense in turning it into a debate, we will need to get moving if we hope to get ahead of them." He shrugs and starts off, taking point to give the hounds something to tell them to keep away.

Zyanya: "Jungle isn't so bad, but the trolls...yeah those could be a problem. Either way, we need to be careful wherever we go."

DM62: Sir Malius chuckles. "We run into a patrol... we kill them all?" He hefts his battle axe with a grin. "I've been itching for a proper fucking fight with those fucks."

Thrae didn't really know what any of these places where, having not exactly paid much attention to the map outside of their original venture into the overland. "Yes, we should begin moving as fast as we can."

Hel grunts. "And if those patrols don't return, three more will take thier place and then find the bodies... We're not in a good position either way, lad."

DM62: The human knight grumbles. "Then we kill three patrols. And then nine patrols. Bring them to my axe."

DM62: Jenna smirks. "This is all very interesting... but where exactly are we going?"

Raz’Qui: "We will not need to kill any patrols if we get moving and ahead of them."

Zyanya: "The more bodies they find, the bigger response they'll send. And I'd rather not fight an army and see myself in chains."

Hel: "According to the map, Sprocket Port's a little south and a long ways west, shouldn't miss it too much as it's on the coast..."

Raz’Qui: "Then that is where we go. We can get a boat from there to Axeton."

DM62: The gnome necromancer thinks for a moment. "Well... maybe we kill just one patrol, near the port? Then we have a... greenskin escort."

Zyanya: "Then what? We play the part of prisoners or something? Fresh slaves for the greenskins? I'm just guessing of course.

DM62: Irena purses her lips. "Perhaps. But we shouldn't plan too far ahead. Anything could happen between now and then."

Vel considered the option. She saw a good route in her head. Course, she couldn't voice it. So she'd see if Thrae could come up with a plan to use instead.

Hel: "Very much. Let us go before we lose our time..."

Thrae: "Yes, we don't need to have this conversation now, we have likely more then a days travel ahead of us I assume."

Raz’Qui: He shook his head and set off taking point for the group. "Best we get going now." He sets off west.

DM62: Ahead are grasslands, stretching for a few miles before turning into a desert wasteland. Arturus walks, troubled. A mile into the wasteland, he speaks. "Ashur did... give us a few... options, in terms of allies. But they are... well... questionable."

Vel walks up in front of Arturus and sits down in front of him and stares at him blankly.

Zyanya: "Questionable? We just allied with a vampire under elf who usurped her mother’s throne in a region constantly at odds with each other. I don't think anything is too questionable at this point."

Hel: "Questionable?" Hel asked.

Raz’Qui: "If they are questionable, may as well not use them. Will do us and them good in the long run." He looked back at Vel. "Come along little one, not time to rest now."

Vel get's up and walks back with Thrae, Zyanya having voiced what Vel was thinking anyways.

Thrae raised an eyebrow, not saying anything but curious about these 'questionable' allies.

DM62: The elf sighs. "Well, she gave us two options. Underfell is occupied by humans... but only on the surface. Underneath the surface city... well... there is a kingdom of the dead." He clears his throat, uncomfortable. "She... She also gave me a way to... awaken the large bugfolk. To bring them to heel. For us."

Raz’Qui: "Both that sounds to me like we should avoid. No telling on whether either will help us or them, or hinder us both."

Hel: "Not to mention what damage that we would wrought doing either of those plans," Hel comments, shaking his head. "I don't trust that Ashur. Only use her advice as a last resort, master elf."

Vel blinks and then stands up and points at Thrae with one hand and Jenna with the other

Raz’Qui: "Them we know. This city of the dead is something we do not know for sure. Or if we can trust them."

DM62: Sir Malius scowls. "And what chance do you think we have, dragon? We've suffered loss after loss to Malgra's crusade. Life after life. Grand Forge was crushed in a matter of days... and that's a damned dwarven capital. Do you think Ritzerite, or Forest's Heart, stand a chance?"

Thrae: "We have a necromancer, and I think I'd classify as a giant bug ontop of being undead. I don't know why we are discounting those options already."

DM62: Arturus shakes his head. "It is an option. I'm not sure how I feel about it either. Apparently Master Ashur has an... understanding... with the true Master of Underfell. And the charm she gave me will... give us control over these bugfolk, these... thrull-creatures."

Raz’Qui: "There is always a choice knight. What we may unleash may harm us as much or more so then them."

Vel moves over to Thrae, looking at her meaningfully. If she wanted to get her point across she had to be firm. This was her fight, not Vel's.

Hel: "This conversation is pointless. We are wasting time standing here talking about potentials instead of striking forth at the known. We know that Axetan has a chance to survive if we can help it prepare, and to do that we must beat the orcish fleets!" the dwarf growls, crossing his hands. "This potential is untested and one that is potentially dangerous, why risk it now when we can stop them now?!?"

DM62: Arturus nods. "These are options for after we defend Axetan. Not until that battle is decided."

Thrae: "The undead have already been unleashed, we would just be getting them to assist with us." Thrae said, still walking ahead. "And well I have never heard of these Thrull, any extra forces we could have should not be discounted out of hand."

Raz’Qui: He shrugs and continues west, taking point.

Hel: The dwarf shakes his head as Thrae tries to continue the conversation, a grunt coming as he begins to walk again.

Zyanya: Well, that was certainly a much darker option to be sure. But it seemed like no matter what she said, it wouldn't accomplish much in the way of a solution and she'd go along more or less with what Hel said. They have to tackle what they know is a problem right now. Underfell and the kingdom of the dead can wait for the moment. "One problem at a time, folks. One problem at a time. If we're gonna keep talking, at least let's keep walking."

DM62: Continuing along, Sir Malius thinks for a moment... then he looks up. "There is a third option. There's a force in Braxil that... helps to keep the undead from causing any trouble. A crusade, of sorts. The Radiant Order of the Sun." He chuckles. "If we really want to get help fighting this war, we could help them crush the undead in Braxil." He looks at the drider. "Present company excluded, of course."

Zyanya: "Radiant Order of the Sun? Must say that sounds a little over the top. You mainlanders always have a flair for the dramatic with all he extra names and titles. But it seems like a solid option, if you ask me."

Hel gives a bit of a grim chuckle. "Do you really think that a bunch of zealots would hold themselves back if they found out one of our company was on the target list?" He points out. "It is an option, much like those of Master Elf, however. keep it in your mind in case it becomes convenient, sir."

Raz’Qui: "Back."

DM62: "Well, their leader is... a bit touched, if you ask me. 'There is only one Goddess, and I am her Prophet,' or something like that." His voice booms for a moment as he imitates the religious leader. "But you're probably right. Having a vampire and a necromancer in our group would... not be appreciated." He raises an eyebrow at the dragonkin. "Welcome... back?"

Raz’Qui: "Nothing, just something a silly player forgot to put in the proper context."

DM62: "Ah. Well, it's like you never left." He smirks.

Hel: The dwarf chuckles. "Some of my kin can get that bad with the reverence of the Forgemistress, I know of your pain, sir..."

Vel pondered if there was other options. Surely the surface had other races who could be called on. The monsterkin perhaps. Orcs had males and females, surelt they'd not care who they worked for long as something they could breed with was on the other side... Unreliable allies but powerful if leveraged right.

((end of session))

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Ninth Session, 19 November (part one, a choice, witnessing a duel, meeting a pacifist)

Spoiler

DM62: When last we saw our heroes, they were marching off to Sprocket Port, where they planned to hitch a ride via stolen vessel to the logging community of Axetan. Arturus, the half-elf, frowns in thought. "There's a place up ahead where we can fill our canteens before moving on. From there, we can head to Sprocket Port through one of two ways: through Kalifer's Maw, the jungle to the south, or by skirting the edge of the Grut'Rok Desert. The jungle is somewhat more dangerous in terms of animals and environment, but the desert is home to the orcs."

Raz gives a small nod as he surveys the way ahead of them. "The true question is, which is the faster route. If we take too long, we will arrive too late to warn of the orcs advance."

Vel hadn't the foggiest what a desert was. She knew what a jungle was, sort of. The underground had one but it was more like a fungal jungle. You didn't want to go there.

Arturus shrugs. "Distance-wise... not much difference, really.”

Thrae was just as confused as Vel about what a desert was. "What is a desert anyways? We don't have such things underground."

Zyanya: "So it's either risk attack by the flora and fauna of the jungle, a territory I'm somewhat familiar with. Or skirt enemy territory and risk potential capture. Honestly, if I had to say where, my vote would be jungle. I'm more comfortable there."

Raz’Qui: "A desert is a vast dry barren wasteland. Where the sun is so hot only sand and only some very stubborn things grow."

Vel: So it was basically the underground, except on land. A barren place where little grew and you were blind due to excessive amounts of something. Only diffrence was the underground wasn't hot. Well. Depending where one went.

DM62: At the moment, the party is walking through a desert canyon, composed of yellow stone. The sun is beating down on the party from above. Even Arturus is sweating a little, while Sir Malius has removed his armor, carrying it rather than swelter inside of it. The gorge continues ahead, but there's a narrow path to the left, as well. The elf points to the left. "There's a healer who lives by herself in a cave down this path. She's got access to a well. Regardless of our path, fresh water will be hard to come by. We should stop here to refill our waterskins, or we'll never make Sprocket Port."

Raz’Qui: "Either way we go, if we need water, I can always use my breath to create it for us." As traveled he slipped out of his armour and stashed it into his pack. "But in the heat I will only have a few so will only use it when we need it."

Vel: Heck was a waterskin? Did surfacers have pockets on their skin to hold water? sounded... Disturbing. Or maybe it was an equivalent to sponge funguses absorbing moisture that could be carried around and squeezed to get it back. All she knew was if they weren't even at the desert yet, this was awful. She was blind and panting from the heat, since she couldn't sweat.

Hel: The dwarf's breastplate had been lodged in his pack as well, the heavier clothes of his being a burden all their own as he grumbles a bit about the heat. "Making sure we stay alive before we get there would be a sound piece of advice, yes..." he mumbles.

DM62: The party only takes a few steps down the left (southern) path before hearing the clang up ahead. A metal weapon on rock. And again. Someone is fighting, and the sounds are echoing through the valley.

Zyanya, never really liked heavier armor, the amazon sticking to light furst and leather that was just enough to protect her skin and modesty. If she was fighting head to head with an opponent, she wasn't fighting right. She was quick. But her ears perked up at the noise in the canyon, the grip tightening around her spear. "Seems we got trouble. I'll scout ahead."

Raz frowns as he bends down to all fours. He then races ahead to scout out the trouble for the others. Staying low and out of sight if need be.

Thrae hmm'd unhappily. "You are telling me it will get even hotter?" The arachne very much was not looking forward to that. Then she heard the sounds of fighting. "Go right ahead," She said to Zyanya, "We'll catch up."

Vel: More combat? Was there beasts with hides of stone on the surface too? Though they could be mistaking mining for something she supposed.

Hel: Just what they needed, more trouble. The dwarf frowns, getting his shield and hammer to the ready for the upcoming brawl.

DM62: The scouts soon see the source of the commotion. The small path widens into a circular area. Along the right side of the circle, leaning against the yellow stone, are eleven armored orcs, resting near twelve of the scorpion-men. They're watching a pair of contestants in the center of the circle. There's a massive, muscular orc warrior, looking angrily at a skinny, elderly, unarmed orc dressed in a plain gray robe. The older orc smiles up at the warrior, who is brandishing a pair of cruel-looking axes. "I am sorry, captain. I understand your predicament. But I will not let you or your companions through."

Raz crouched low to the ground to hit his scales, though backing away and a quick dusting easily took the sheen off of his scale and darkened him somewhat. He took a moment to smell the air, seeing if there was more then just those in the path ahead of them.

DM62: At the extreme southern end of the circular arena is the entrance to a cave.

Zyanya: "Seems like an interesting predicament. Think we should intervene and help someone out? Or let the orcs solve the problem among themselves? Feel like that old orc is at a severe disadvantage."

Raz shook his head as he spoke quietly, still sniffing. "They won’t hurt the old one. Their honour won’t permit it. Especially if he is a hermetic shaman."

DM62: The party begins catching up to the scouts. At this point the massive warrior gives a roar, bringing his axes around in a vicious arc at the elder. The old orc shifts slightly to the left, tilting his body just so, and the axes scrape against the yellow stone. The warrior swings upward with his left axe, then brings the right around again. Each time, the nimble old man slides or turns just enough to let the blade harmlessly miss his body. The old orc smiles, and the frustrated warrior grunts, brandishing his axes for another attempt.

Vel: Huh. Well she couldn't see shit but it sounded like orcs fighting something.

Raz’Qui: "Or he is an old weapon master of some sort." He shrugs as he moves over to the others to explain what is happening.

Zyanya: "Looks like he's making that warrior look like an absolute fool. Now that's what I like to see. Overconfident thugs getting put into their place. All the old man needs to do is wait for the right time and place to strike and he'll have the bastard on his knees."

Thrae: "Hmmm, it looks like the old one has this match in hand, but there are many others."

Thrae said quietly as she caught up to see the battle. Squinting her eyes to try to see. Turning to Arturus she asked. "Is this the healer by any chance?"

Hel: "Think we should risk it if they all go for him?" the dwarf remarks, crossing his arms.

DM62: "That's Master Shasha. Senile... but an interesting soul." Arturus speaks in a hushed, almost reverent voice. "The name Shasha is an old orc word for 'water,' based on his movements. But now the orcs also call him the 'brave coward.' Never been bested in combat... but a few decades ago, he swore an oath to never harm another." The warrior continues his furious assault, hacking and slashing at the old man, who deftly avoids every attack with a patient, almost indulgent smile.

Raz’Qui: "Well there are twelve of them and their mounts. Any fight we have in this heat will be short and extremely bloody. Especially in these tight quarters."

Hel: "Still, any ally we can get is a potential plus. Maybe..."

Zyanya: "So why do they keep harassing him then? They think they can take advantage of him or something cause he won't fight back? Even for orcs, that's pretty pathetic."

Raz’Qui: "If he swore an oath to do no harm, I would not rely on him when battle breaks out."

DM62: One of the orcs nearest the party speaks up. "No. The crazy old man challenged our captain to single combat. He said the winner would win control of the valley, while the loser would have to leave, along with his allies, peacefully."

DM62: The huge axe-warrior gives another feral roar, charging at the old man. The elderly orc smiles, then slips to the side at the last moment, sending the warrior crashing head-first into the stone wall behind the elder. Master Shasha turns to the other orcs. "Your captain has defeated himself. I believe our combat has ended. Please bring him along with you, and ensure that he receives the help he needs. Remember the terms. Peacefully." The other orcs grumble, but keep their weapons sheathed as they move forward to retrieve their captain.

Raz gives a small quiet chuckle. The old man was skilled, he would give him that. Though there is always someone better then you, and he had learnt that the way. "Seems he is finished."

Hel: There's a smirk on the dwarf's face as he watches the final blow, but otherwise he holds his tongue.

Zyanya: "Using the enemies momentum against them. Gotta admit, I could learn a thing or two about that. Also dosen't surprise me that the opponent got oo reckless." The shiriti was quite please with the end results, taking mental notes in her head during the fight to see if she could try something similar."

Thrae couldn't help but give a small chuckle at the orcs crash. But she kept her eyes on the other orcs and scorpion-men, fearing any one of them might decide to be a sore loser, and if they tried to be then she would be ready.

Vel had no idea what was happening but if it was not bad things, yay. Also gooood this heat. Like she was somehow UNDER a volcanic vent.

DM62: The orcs and scorpion-men are soon departing, grumbling as they shuffle past the party. Master Shasha smiles. "Violent warriors... they never fare well in peace time, unless they learn to stop fighting with themselves. And once they learn that, what need for weapons, really? But my name is Shasha... and I must ask why you have come here." He looks around at the group.

Raz’Qui: "We have come for water to fill our water skins." He then stood up, sniffing to make sure they had truly shuffled off.

Zyanya: "Just a simple resupply, sir. That's all. We're about to cross a dangerous stretch of land and at the very least need to have our water supply on the up and up."

DM62: "Indeed... well... that is a good reason to come here. Very well. You may enter to fill your waterskins, but first I must have your word that you will commit no act of violence, when you enter the cave. It is the home of a goblin healer who is tending to a wounded dwarf captain. Regardless of your racial prejudices, you are to harbor no malice toward them. Yes?"

Hel: "Dwarf captain?" Hel remarks, a bit surprised, but he puts his hammer back to his side. "By my honor I will not cause trouble here, done my fair share enough by now."

Raz’Qui: "I can promise no violence, but I can not promise not holding malice to them. At least from myself."

Vel meows.

DM62: The old man raises an eyebrow at the double contradiction from the dragon. "Look, youngster... I don't speak whatever slang you young dragons speak. You're not gonna hurt anybody inside. Right?"

Zyanya: "No need to worry about me, sir. I may be carrying two spears but those are only meant for real enemies and as far as I'm concerned, there are no enemies here."

Thrae: "We won't." Thrae said, motioning to herself and Vel. Seeing as both of them were effectively unarmed, and Thrae could really care less about the species of the two inside. Though she did wonder how such a combination ended up happening.

DM62: "Right. Follow me, then." The old orc leads the party into the cave. "Lady Lorelai? Got some travelers here... just wanna fill up on water and be on their way." A female voice responds, "Fine, but keep the noise down." The cave interior is fairly dark, only a few candles here and there lighting it.

Raz’Qui: "Violence I promise to not commit." He gave a small shrug, likely an error in translation about the second part somewhere.

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Ninth Session, 19 November (part two, the healer, the dwarf captain, an apparent betrayal, resupply)

Spoiler

Thrae almost breathed a sigh of relief at the darkness, letting her eyes get a bit of a rest from the bright outside. Her eyes hovered in the area she had heard the female voice coming from. A female goblin, this had the potential to be interesting.

Vel: Oh gods yes. The heat was still awful but sweet, sweet vision. Gods her poor sore burnt out eyes. Vel rubs them with a whimper but follows along.

Zyanya: "So is it just you two when you don't have guests? And how often do people even stop by if you're this remote?"

Raz’Qui: He would follow everyone in last. Glancing up the path to make sure the orcs were not coming back.

DM62: The cave is actually quite cool on the inside, and there's a well along one of the walls of the roomy cave. In the back of the cave are several wooden cots, most of them empty. At the far-right cot, there's a dwarf laying prone, stirring slightly. The female goblin gently keeps him prone. "Shhhh... don't try to rise, young captain. We don't want your wounds to re-open." The warrior grunts, then lays compliant. Master Shasha shakes his head. "Normally Lady Lorelai lives alone out here, tending to the souls that wander in or around here wounded. I tend to roam. But sometimes I find broken folks... and I bring them here, providing they promise to do no harm to the Lady." The other orcs seem to have gone for good.

Raz’Qui: He went inside to refill all four of his water skins before returning to the cave mouth and keeping watch.

Hel: "Poor sod..." the dwarf muses. "Good chance he was running from the events at Grand Forge if he made it all the way out here..."

Vel: Huh. What a weird idea. Usually underground healers were rare expensive individuals, often kept under heavy guard. A rare commodity due to being able to make good poisons and cure them, among other things. But one who lives alone and such? Seemed... Counter intuitive. Such a resource running free. Truly the surface was sloppy about keeping its assets secure.

DM62: Lorelai looks over at Helvoque sadly. "Yes. When Shasha brought him, he was ranting about orcs and betrayal. Shasha had to help hold him down until I could give him a sleeping potion."

Zyanya: "Wait, betrayal? So that means what happened at Grand Forge was because of an insider or a traitor in the dwarf ranks? How could someone sell out their people so quickly in the face of a global threat such as this?"

Raz’Qui: "We will not know till he wakes. But it is troubling news, it could mean very little if we do not hear it."

DM62: The healer folds her arms. "Now I'm going to have to ask you to keep your voices down." She moves forward, giving the group a better look at her. A middle-aged goblin, with just a few wrinkles in what looks to be a face of beauty, at least among the green-skinned goblins. Her hair runs down her back in vibrant hues of red. She's dressed rather simply, in an off-white, vented gown. "It took me a lot of work to calm him so he could heal. But I'll tell you what he told me before passing out. Apparently the orcs have appointed a dwarven provincial governor for Grand Forge. Iron-breaker... Iron-shearer... Iron-shatter? Lucatt. Or some such."

Thrae: Well, looked like inter-clan 'diplomacy' was alive and well in the dwarf society. It almost made her think of home. The name meant nothing to her, but she watched Hel, wondering just what the only dwarf in the party’s reaction would be.

Vel: Heh, and the dwarves pretended they were sooo much better. Proof was in the pudding. Every society was ultimately the same.

Zyanya: Damn. Seemed like no society was safe from inter clan/family backstabbing and manipulation. And here she figured the dwarves were better than that. Gods, she hoped her people wouldn't descend that low.

Raz couldn't say his was any better, his father was still at war with his wife about the affair he had resulting in him. Regardless he gave a small shrug. "Sounds like this clan might be helping the orcs."

Hel sighed, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Not too far off, the Warlord's taken it full-on... The fact he was mumbling about betrayal is cause for concern, however..." He shakes his head at hearing the clan name.

DM62: Shasha shakes his head. "Violence begets more violence." At this point Lorelai notices the chimera. "Awwwwww!" She strokes the chimera's fur, nuzzling up against her. "You remind me of my cat!"

Vel blinks as she's petted, leaning into it as she sits down, staying quiet for now. She wondered what would come of all this. Not that it mattered much now. The orc invasion was more important for the time being. Assaulting the dwarven city was impossible if it'd leave themselves open to being carved up from behind. She had to wonder though, just what was the elves and humans doing?

Thrae couldn't help but let out a sigh, what was it with everyone playing with Vel when they were in public! It was so unfair!

DM62: Lorelai notes the scar on Vel's neck with concern. "Poor cat..." She looks back, under the cot next to the dwarf. "Kaylia. Stop being a butt and greet our guests." There's a responding hiss from under the bed. "Oh well. Oh! I've got something for you, sort of." The goblin gives Vel one more scritch, then moves to a chest, rummaging through it.

Vel blinks in surprise as her scar from having her throat cut was noticed through her fur. Well, she supposed a healer would be the one to notice on their own. She looked curiously as the goblin went through a chest, dropping to all fours to peer under the bed from a distance, curious.

DM62: The healer returns a moment later, carrying an odd strap with a pair of glass lenses. "Here. It's fitted for a chimera. Actually... one of them was brought here, about six years ago. Didn't make it. But you should be able to use it, too!" She wraps the darkened goggles around Vel, significantly reducing the light coming into her eyes. By now, the party's filled up on water.

Hel: Though looking a bit more sour than before, Hel has loaded back his own gear and prepared to leave.

DM62: Under the bed, an orange-striped cat is staring back at Vel, its paws at the ready.

Vel blinks, the goggles needing significant adjustment for her smaller skull, and the lenses were kinda big for her eyes, but they got the job done, if slightly ill fittingly. She purrs and nussles against the healer's hand, though she looks up at Thrae questioningly. Her mistress might have need of them after all. She regarded the feline under the bed with general confusion. It looked like an even smaller her, but missing so many features! What was that thing?

Zyanya was quite prepared for the trip ahead, her waterskin attached to her waist and the rest of her supplies prepared as well after doing a quick inventory check.

Raz was ready to travel, his water skins in his pack with his armour and his weapons at the ready.

Thrae looked at Vel and the new glasses, she had seen how blind Vel had been even compared to her, so she just nodded, leaving the glasses for Vel to use. On top of that it wasn't like they'd work that well for Thrae anyways, given her multiple eyes and all.

DM62: Lorelai adjusts a few straps, fitting the goggles to Vel's head perfectly. "There you go. Oh. Before you leave, would you like a survival kit? It's a small pack with extra waterskins, bandages, a compass, a small metal mirror, and a piece of flint. Should help you in the desert. All I ask is a small donation, to help pay for more of them."

DM62: The small cat gives a low growl, then hisses again at Vel, retreating further under the bed.

Vel shrugs at the aggressive stance of the little not-her and nods. They were still comically large lenses on her head but it worked. She didn't have anything to give to get the survival kit though, her looking longingly at it, but she basically carried all her possessions in her arms. Which amounted to a pile of bondage gear and locks, picks and diagrams.

Raz’Qui: "What sort of donation?"

DM62: "Anything I can trade the traveling merchants. They bring me supplies for travelers. I trade them donations, in return." She shrugs. "You can have one either way. If you can't afford to trade anything, you probably need it anyway. And take this, too. Fruit and jerky." She hands over a large sack, the survival kit, then a smaller one with soft contents. "Shasha, you mind bringing them the biscuits?" The old orc looks sad at this. "Not the biscuits, Lady Lorelai," he whines. "Shasha. Biscuits." The orc reaches into a sack near him, stuffing a bready biscuit into his mouth before bringing it over to the party, handing it to Raz with a small scowl.

Raz steps over to the little goblin and hands over a several silver coins from his home. "This suffice?"

DM62: Lorelai nods. "Thank you for your patronage, my dear dragonkin. This should help other travelers, like yourself." She gives the dragonkin a small bow.

Vel meows and takes the big bag in her mouth, trying to carry it too.

Raz’Qui: He gives a small shrug before heading back to the cave mouth to keep watch.

DM62: Irena also puts a small sack of coins in the goblin's hand. Jenna raises an eyebrow. "Sorry, lady. I got nothing." Sir Malius and Arturus also give considerable donations of coin before departing. Lorelai nods. "Thank you all. Be sure to eat the biscuits first, they'll go bad quickly."

Hel: The dwarf takes a moment to pass some coinage of his own, looking rather blank-faced as well.

DM62: The goblin stops the dwarf. "The injured dwarf... his name is Captain Tilwarq. Probably of gnome and dwarf descent. He... was in rather poor shape, when he was brought here. Suffered pretty grievous injuries to escape his orc captors with news of the betrayal. I hope... that there will be at least one dwarf to speak up for him, when the war's over with. Whether or not he dies from his wounds."

Vel sets her stuff down and rummages through her stuff and offers some of the anti-burn mushroom paste.

Thrae looked into her own bag, and passed a few coins in too. She actually supported the idea to some extent, and there was no way she was going to be the only person to not give in some donation atleast, especially since she had to give something for Vel's glasses too.

DM62: The goblin's eyes open a little wider. "Oooooh the fungal anti-burn cream! I haven't seen this in a long time!" She gives Vel a small kiss on the snout. "Thank you, dear." She smiles at Thrae.

Hel: The dwarf nods. "I'll make sure he's not forgotten if I can, lass..."

Zyanya: "If anything, his news was vital to the survival of the region and he shouldn't have anything held against him."

DM62: Lorelai nods, waving. "Have fun storming the port!" Shasha mutters to the goblin. "Think it'll work?" She mutters back. "Eh. It'd take a miracle."

Raz heads out into the pass to take point.

Vel purrs at the kiss, before awkwardly carrying all her stuff and the giant bag with her.

DM62: Arturus chuckles, taking the big bag from the small chimera. "I'll handle that, if you don't mind." He gives the chimera a small stroke as he passes her on his way out. The path is once again very dry and very hot, and soon the party is nearing the T in the valley, where they originally turned south from their westward course.

Zyanya: "So does this mean we're heading towards the desert or have we not decided anything yet?

Raz would let his tongue hang out as he marched, he too was unable to sweat due to his tightly nit scales. "Not sure yet."

DM62: Jenna shrugs. "I'm going to hate this, either way."

Hel: "Whatever way that isn't going to kill us just with walking?" the dwarf quips, panting and rubbing a rag over his face.

Raz’Qui: "The jungle is likely to be just as hot, or more so from all the humidity. Either way it will be one hot walk."

Jenna looks at the dwarf, deadpanning. "So... back to Ritzerite, then?"

Hel: "...Not what I meant. I'd rather a path where the better chance of death is from enemies and not losing all our water in an hour."

Vel looks around, staring through the lenses. "...Vel likes these... Um. If all options are bad, then doesn't matter what do. Pick what want fight, poison or melting."

Raz’Qui: "Ah. Well I doubt either is enemy free. We just need to pick a route and head that way." He turned to the kitsune to see where she wanted to go.

Zyanya: "As I mentioned, I'm more use to the jungle. It's more familiar to my home. But that's my vote at least. I don't want to overrule the party simply because of familiarity."

Vel: "You live in this jungle?"

DM62: The kitsune shrugs. "Well, none of us are desert creatures. I suppose jungle it is, then." Arturus nods. "Just don't eat any plants there. And try to keep your feet dry... but that might be impossible. And... if you see any yellow frogs, stay away from them. As far from them as possible. Also, watch for any snakes in the tree branches, especially the ones with triangular heads."

DM62: Sir Malius raises an eyebrow. "What about the R.O.U.S.'s?"

Raz gives a small nod as he sets off for the jungle, though he frowned at the thought of walking through a jungle just as hot as the desert. He really hoped it would at least rain while they were there.

Vel: "Vel eats ROUS's "

Thrae: "What’s an ROUS?" Thrae said, wondering if she had just forgotten something again.

Zyanya: "You could say that. The shiriti are quite hearty and we've survived for quite a while in our environment. Why do you think I dress the way I do in the first place?"

DM62: Jenna looks surprised at this. "Really? Rodents of Unusual Size? I didn't think they existed."

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Ninth Session, 19 November (part three, an ambush, fork in the road, the jungle, arriving at the port)

Spoiler

DM62: At this point there's a noise behind the party... and they note four orcs, riding atop scorpion-men, brandishing axes. One of them grunts. "You don't think we forgot about you, do you?" They're about fifty yards back.

Vel: "...Guess they want something more dead-causing than wall slaps."

Raz turns and gives a small sigh. He pulls out his sword and moves to take up a defensive position at the back of their line.

Zyanya: "Are you serious?"

DM62: There's another noise in front of the party, and four more orcs riding atop the scorpion-men come around a bend in the canyon, approaching the party from the other side in the narrow canyon.

Thrae: "I really thought they just wouldn't care." Thrae add with her own sigh, she had been about to turn on her multiple feet and fire off a bolt of lightning at the orc that had spoken before she saw the others coming from in front of them. Unleashing her bolt at the lead rider of that group instead.

DM62: Arturus shakes his head, moving to the front with his sword and mace brandished. Sir Malius moves to the back of the party, grinning at the orc riders. "Bring yourselves to my axe!"

Raz curses softly as he sees the two groups blocking them in. He glanced at the wall, and frowned at the thought of climbing out. Shaking his head, he readied his long blade, preparing to use it like a spear against the charging arachnids.

Vel takes a seat beside Thrae, not wanting to get anywhere near cavalry or stabby-tail driders.

Zyanya: "It just never ends with these orcs, huh? Guess they want to settle this the hard way then." Zyanya gripped her spear and took it in both hands, ready to repel any attackers that came her way. She wasn't stupid. She knew spears worked well against cavalry.

DM62: The lead rider from the front group gives a grunt as the bolt strikes his chest, pitching forward and to the side, landing in the dust. Both groups charge forward, axes at the ready, to attack.

Raz waits till the last moment before planting the hilt and grabbing the length of leather just above and lifting it up like a spear. Using the length of the great sword to make it much like a spear to the charge.

Thrae doesn't let up with her spells, as soon as the first bolt is off she's firing the next one, hoping to thin out the riders as much as possible before they get to the group.

DM62: Hel gives a shout, "For Grand Forge!" The dwarf charges forward, leaping and swinging his hammer at one of the orc riders in the front attack group. His hammer strikes home, caving in a rider's chest, and he lands on the back of one of the scorpion-men. Raz's sword skewers a scorpion-man, but the orc leaps off, swinging an axe at the dragonkin. Zyanya impales one of the scorpion-men, and the rider lands face-first in the dust before trying to turn and attack the Shiriti. Thrae's bolt knocks another of the riders down.

Raz takes the blow to the side. He spins away from his blade and the orc and manages to prevent it from sinking in too deeply. Standing with blood beginning to soak his side he growls before leaping forward, his two wings snapping forward like a pincer, the blades on them shining as they went through the air.

Zyanya: The mount down, the Shiriti would waste no time leaping on the opponent, bringing her spear down onto his back and jabbing into him several times to ensure he's dead.

Thrae: Switching tactics a bit this time, Thrae instead aimed for the enemies coming at there rear, trying to summon up a sharp pillar of rock under one of the scorpion men and hopefully kill him and his rider.

DM62: Arturus leaps forward, swinging his mace with a force-enhanced strike that sends a scorpion-man and his hapless rider smashing into the canyon wall, hard. Malius grins, then pulls a throwing axe from his belt, skillfully throwing it into the forehead of a charging scorpion man. He decapitates the rider. The scorpion-man under Hel is about to stab him, when he grabs the tail with his gauntlet, using it to crush the tail. The scorpion-man screams in pain, faltering before Hel's hammer silences him. Raz's wing tips skewer the orc, who slumps lifelessly. Zyanya is able to easily impale the orc she dismounted, only for another scorpion-man and rider to swing tail and axe at her. Thrae's tactic is somewhat successful, knocking the scorpion-man onto his side, and sending his rider sprawling. At this point there's a belligerent squeal from above the party, and feral driders begin swarming down into the valley, massive falchions in hands.
Irena quietly clears her throat in the center of the party.

Raz works to relieve his wings of the dead weight. While he sets to work freeing his wing blades, he swings the sharp blade on his to the closest orc's ankles.

Vel looks up in alarm and backs up against Thrae worriedly. Feral driders? She had enough trouble with civilized ones!

DM62: The orc manages to dodge Raz's attack, only for one of the slain scorpion-men to stab the orc in the back with its tail. Another, in the front, begins wreaking havoc, and the remaining orcs and scorpion-men flee in panic as the drider begin to flood the valley. Irena chuckles softly, letting them run, before dismissing the illusory driders.

Zyanya knew she left herself open or a potential attack, so she had to get out of the way just as quickly. Thankfully, she was quicker than any orc she knew. But the illusion hit out of nowhere and at first she was ready for another fight. But when they up and vanished, the Shiriti simply shrugged. "Guess I wouldn't complain about this."

Vel sighs and looks at Irena a little irritatedly. "...Vel hates when you scare her..."

Raz growls at the fleeing orcs, thinking of giving chance a moment before the wound in his side tells him it wouldn't be wise. With a sigh, he ripped off a few length of cloth off a dead orc. Stuffing one into the gash, he used the other to bind his wound quickly. "We need to get moving before they regroup and come to make sure we were eaten."

DM62: Jenna raises an eyebrow, stopping the dragonkin. "We just donated money for a pack with fresh bandages. Clean ones." She shakes her head, dressing his wound using the survival kit. Irena gives a small chuckle. "Sorry, Vel. But if you didn't at least act scared, they might have noticed the illusion."

Thrae: "Indeed, I wish your powers didn't tend to leave us just as worried about what they are as they do the other side." Thrae said, trying to calm her breath after the momentary near heart attack she had had when the drider swarm came over the sides.

Raz held his hand out with a shake. "It is only a temporary one. We can re bind it better later when we are out of this gully."

DM62: The gnome shakes her head. "Infections and bile do NOT take long to take root. This will just be a moment." She is quite persistent, bandaging the dragonkin's wound with the clean dressings. Hel grunts, pulling his hammer from the orc's caved chest. "Best get a move on, then." Two dead scorpion-men are moving with the party now, with Jenna riding atop one of them.

Raz’Qui shrugs and lets her wrap it up before setting off at the head of their column once more.

Vel walks along, nodding. "We have jungles in darkness too. Though they diffrent fungus than surface fungus. But Vel never was there before. But she was told that if you get cut, you often die cus bad stuff happens in these from all the spores and stuff. Also that bad things like to nest in fur...," she mumbles, looking down at herself

DM62: Jenna chuckles, patting the top of the scorpion-man next to her. "So ride up here with me, sweetie." Within a few more miles, the party reaches a fork, one path leading west, while the other heads southwest. Arturus indicates the southwestern trail. "That's the path through Kalifer's Maw. As I said... eat nothing but what we bring with us. Drink nothing but what we drink with us. Avoid the bugs, avoid the snakes, avoid the animals, but at ALL COSTS, avoid the yellow frogs."

Vel looks at Thrae, awaiting to see if she'll get permission to ride with Jenna.

Raz’Qui gives a small nod as he sets down the path to the jungle. "Starting to sound like the desert would be the safer of the paths."

Zyanya: "Not in the mood for walking, Miss Jenna?" The shiriti teased. "Believe me, it's not as terrible as Arturus makes it sound. The desert would have us dealing with a ton more orcs than we just dealt with. Just keep aware and don't get distracted"

DM62: Thrae nods to the chimera.

Vel climbs up beside Jenna awkwardly, seeming unsure about this and not having ridden much at all. She mumbles a bit, "Not sure if this protect Vel fur, but is easier not drop all mistress and mistress thief friend's things."

DM62: Jenna pulls Vel close as she rides, snuggling against the furry chimera. "Relax, my dear," she whispers, "this will at least keep you from most of the nasty little critters and swampy water." The party continues down the southwestern trail, soon reaching a part of the path that leads through a hot, humid, swampy forest.

Vel nods, blushing, only bit bigger than Jenna as she's snuggled into, leaning against her and purring.

Raz frowned a little at the heat. All the water certainly didn't help any either. Still he plodded on without a complaint.

Zyanya: The shiriti was actually quite at home here in the heat, her attire quite suitable for this sort of environment. She'd even do her best to lead her group around or away from any potential hazards, keeping away from the particularly dangerous ones that might crop up.

DM62: The party travels for a few days through the jungle heat, with the skilled Shiriti helping them to not only survive but even rest along the journey, before the jungle path gives way to the plains of the Braxilian territory, and the group can see a prosperous port ahead: Sprocket Port.

Raz’Qui: "So what is the plan for getting in?"

Zyanya: "See, told you it wouldn't be that bad. Practically a walk in the park if you ask me." The shiriti woman was quite confident of her abilities just now, but knew they had new matters to attend to such as getting into the port. "Didn't we have a plan for that? Like disguises or something?"

DM62: Jenna chuckles. "We DO have scorpion-man mounts." Irena nods. "I can disguise the group as greenskins. But we'll need one spokesman, for whom I'll craft a more advanced illusion. If anyone else speaks, the illusion will be broken."

Vel: "Vel wonders why we didn't grab undead orc and make them talk. Can dead orcs talk?," asks Vel, looking to Jenna.

Raz’Qui: "I am not much for talking so someone else can do it."

Zyanya: "Well, I guess that could work. Gonna be rough not talking for a while, but it's gotta be done. If no one else will speak for the group, I suppose I could. But only as a last resort."

DM62: Jenna shakes her head. "They... sound... dead. Unless you're a vampire... or more advanced... it's hard for undead to speak."

Thrae: "Hmmm. I doubt I have the...vocal style, to really be the speaker." She was no gruff orc after all, and had little care for that 'honour' they spoke of.

Vel: "Like Vel then. Owned and talk bad.," says Vel wryly, "Vel thinks Raz makes good orc."
Hel: The dwarf huffs a bit. "I've talked us into enough trouble, at this rate..."

Raz’Qui: He sighs and shakes his head. "I suppose I can do the talking, but I know very little of this place."

DM62: Irena chuckles. "Actually, Thrae, you're going to look like one of those scorpion-men. I've never heard them speak before. And Raz... you might as well move without an illusion. Dragonkin aren't considered enemies by either side, yet. So Raz'Qui and Zyanya will speak, I guess." She being weaving her spell.

Vel: "Say lemme in, I'm an orc, rawr."

Vel: "Or uh... Dragon. Say you're a mercenary. It's not a lie."

Vel: "Or do lie and say you're an orc!"

Raz’Qui: He chuckled and shook his head, reaching a hand up to give Vel's ears a light scritch.

Zyanya: "I think they'll suspect something if we talk like that, Vel. Remember how the woman from before spoke? I just need to imitate that ad we should be fine."

Vel: "Vel doesn't remember this at all."

DM62: Jenna grins, nuzzling the chimera. "Vel... you're terrible at this!"

Vel: "Vel's property, she doesn't need to be good at lying to orcs.," huffs Vel, purring and leaning against Jenna too.

DM62: Irena completes the spell, and is immediately transformed into a slender, muscular, female troll. Hel, Vel and Jenna appear to be goblins. Zyanya, Malius, and Arturus look to be orc, while Thrae and Nisali appear to be scorpion-men.

((end of session))

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Interlude, 21 November (Malgra, her advisors, a report, and a strategy)

Spoiler

The troll studied his surroundings. Dwarven architecture was beautiful, yet alien to the green-skinned warrior. He had to admire the dwarves… despite the internal betrayal, they had fought bravely and bitterly to defend their capital of Grand Forge. Nevertheless, it was all for naught. The Warchief could not be stopped.

His reveries were interrupted, as the female orc looked up from the contoured map of Kalifer to gaze at the troll. “So. We are agreed on our general strategy?” The elderly troll could not help but admire Warchief Malgra. She was the only leader that the troll had every known to listen to her war counselors without relying upon them entirely. It was… both frightening, and refreshing, how easily command came to her.

The goblin, Mari, responded. “Great Warchief, it is a cunning plan. If successful, we conquer every major food source in Kalifer, including the Braxilian territory. If not… we still hold Grand Forge, and we have cooperation from within.”

Malgra frowned. While Mari was correct, she did not like using the treacherous dwarven nobleman as a governor. His own people would gladly die for a chance to crush the traitor. But he’s a useful pawn, and will remain useful until I trade him, she thought.

The old troll hesitated a moment, then opened his mouth to respond. At this point there was a knocking at the door to the council room. The troll closed his mouth and frowned, as the door swung open. A massive orc warrior was leaning on another orc, being helped into the room.

The massive orc spoke, with some effort. “Warchief… my apologies. I have failed you, and I have failed our people. The dwarf captain… he escaped.” The orc captain continued telling his story. The encounter with Master Shasha, and his subsequent defeat. How eight warriors with razorpine mounts stayed to finish off the odd band of travelers.

Malgra frowned. “Those warriors will meet their defeat, captain. That ‘odd band,’ as you call it, consists of racial paragons. A drider vampire. A half-elven spellblade. A human axe-knight. A shiriti heiress who can handle a spear quite well. A dragonkin with deadly wingblades. The list goes on… but they’re led by none other than Helvoque Magmahammer, heir to the throne of Grand Forge. It is… good that you did not prevail, in a sense.”

The orc captain raised an eyebrow, but remained bowing. Malgra waved her hand dismissively. “Captain, your honor is unsullied. You had no choice but to accept Master Shasha’s challenge, and even unarmed he has never been bested. You… followed your training and your orders to the best of your ability. Now go. Find a dwarf wench and… recover.” The orc warrior gave a small smirk at this, bowing and departing with the help of his companion. Malgra looked around at her advisors. “You’re wondering why I didn’t kill them, when I had the chance.”

The old troll had to nod now. “Warchief… yes. Why did you stay your hand? You would have been well within your rights to kill Helvoque by hand, and to have your troops slay the rest. If this report is accurate, they’re heading to Axetan, to try to deflect our attack there.”

Malgra nodded. “Indeed. And there are wars in which heroes determine the outcome… but this will not be one of those wars.” She turned to the goblin, Mari. “Send messenger ravens. Have the group met and… neutralized. I don’t want any unnecessary killing but… it would not be a tragedy, if some of them died.”

The goblin nodded, departing, and the old troll drew close to the orc warchief. “Warchief… forgive me. But why did you let them live, in the first place?”

Malgra paused, looking at the detailed, contoured map before her. “For multiple reasons… but the main reason is that I intend to rule for a long time. And that means that I can’t afford a fractured, rebellious empire. Take Grand Forge, for example. How long do you think my rule will last here, with an orc governor, or with that treacherous Ironshatter pup in charge? I’ll tell you. My authority here will last until the moment I withdraw the bulk of my forces. Then the dwarves will lynch that traitor, and kill any orc-friends here.”

The troll nodded. “Of course, Malgra. This is known to me. But that is a problem that all conquerors face.”

The warchief shook her head. “When I have crushed the humans and the elves, I will send out emissaries. Some of them are already standing by. I will offer generous terms to my enemies, letting them hold dominion over their own lands, as long as they enforce my will and support my wars. Returning to Grand Forge as an example: I will offer Helvoque Magmahammer the throne here, as well as that Ironshatter’s head on a platter. In doing so I’ll practically guarantee a compliant dwarven state, ready to support their orc allies at the behest of one of their most trusted and celebrated princes.”

The troll paused, before questioning the warchief. “And if these governors betray you?”

Malgra grinned. “Why do you think I met them in the first place? They had me at their mercy… and they did not seize a golden opportunity to assassinate me. Helvoque… Arturus… Sir Malius… those people are honor-bound. When we’ve won the war, I will offer them peace in exchange for fealty… not oppressive chains, but simple vassalage. I’ll make the terms good enough that they have no choice but to accept. Their sense of honor will do the rest of the work for us.”

The elderly troll bowed. “I hope that you are right, Warchief.”

Malgra nodded. “I have been wrong before… but if diplomacy fails, then there are other paths to victory.” She clapped her hands, and a muscular male orc attendant nervously entered.

“You wanted something, Warchief?”

The orc warchief grinned. “Take off your clothes, young man. Time for you to service your warchief.” She watched the younger, virile orc disrobe. The old troll turned to depart, even as Malgra began stripping off her own clothing.

 

[Hopeyouguess62]

Re: Blackshard Prequel Transcripts (edited)

Tenth Session, 25 November (part one, a warning, entering the port, a familiar face)

Spoiler

DM62: It's early morning. Most of the party is sound asleep. Raz'Qui and Irena are on watch together, wandering about the camp, when Vel hears something fluttering, then landing near her quietly.

Vel frowns, opening an eye just a slit, pretending to be asleep, but wanting to see just what this... Thing was. Maybe she'd eat it.

DM62: A raven has landed near Vel, staring at the chimera. It has something small and white attached to its leg with a piece of string. A very small scroll. It pecks once at the dirt, then looks up again at Vel.

Vel blinks then takes the scroll from the strange monster in front of her. She didn't want to eat something she did not recognise. It might be poisonous.

DM62: The raven pecks once more after Vel has the scroll, then flies away. The scroll is filled with script that Vel does not recognize, but she knows enough to understand that it's not under elf writing. There are two symbols she does recognize, though: the symbol from Helvoque's shield, with a square around it. Vel knows from her study of the diagrams and her discussion with the smuggler that a square around something is generally a thief symbol for "trust."

Vel has no idea what she has here. Well, something about trust and shields. She decides to go find Jenna since she struck her as the sharpest and probably literate which she was not.

DM62: Jenna has Hel bound, as usual, having spent the first few hours in camp finding new and interesting ways to force the dwarf princeling to climax. She stirs quietly, slipping off of his chest as he slumbers, and silently following the chimera a short distance away, with no apparent embarrassment over her current nudity. She raises an eyebrow, waiting for Vel to tell her what was going on.

Vel simply hands Jenna the paper. "A thing gave me this. I can't read but it involves Hel and trust so I figured you could make better use of it than I could."

DM62: Jenna frowns. "Yeah, that's Hel's sigil, alright. The message is in dwarven script, but not written by a native dwarf." She frowns. "It says that we're heading into an ambush. But that we need to let the enemy spring the ambush, because it will reveal the enemies in our midst. And... it's apparently from our smuggler friend, because he says he hopes you're studying." She smirks at that last bit. "But I imagine he intended for Hel to read this, since it's in dwarven script. And for very, very few of the party members to know about it. Just you and Hel, I'm guessing."

Vel: "Well if you're the traitor you're either the best one or the worst one.," smiles Vel amusedly, "I've seen plenty of treachery in my years. Your coming on with us was too unreliable. A necromancer? you were as likely to get executed as not. Not something desirable in a spy. Though if you are you're in a good position to keep Hel in your pocket. I don't think you are though. But I'll be too dead to be disappointed if I'm wrong."

DM62: The gnome smirks. "Yeah... but as always, it's wise to never trust anyone completely. Still... Clark Gable... or Sean Connery... whatever his name is today... I think he meant for Hel to see this." She moves to quietly shake the bound, naked dwarven warrior, placing a finger to his lips to keep him silent. "Shhh... quiet, my dear. We need you to see something."

Hel grunts towards awake, mumbling as he awakens blearily and glances at them with bleary eyes. "My watch already?" he grumbles.

Vel: "Course I don't trust you. But I know enough of your interests to believe to know what your current goals are and they align.," says Vel in her always whispering voice, before walking over and sitting beside Hel, giving a quiet meow before smiling. "Were you with mistress? You're all tied up like Vel is at home, Mistress Friend Hel."

DM62: Jenna chuckles, cutting Hel's bonds loose. She places the small scroll in his hands, and Hel dimly sees that it's written in dwarven script, if a bit crudely. First is Hel's sigil, from the front of his shield, with a square around it. Then it reads, "You are moving into an ambush. Pretend all is well and fall into the trap. It will reveal your traitors. Hope the furry one is studying."

Hel's face is a frown as he looks over the scroll's contents. "This is grave news indeed... Bah. It is good to know at least... Even if we should not act on it yet..." He sighs, shrugging and crumpling the message. "Make sure it's burned, so noone else sees. Keep this info as a bit of a trump card for now."

DM62: Jenna shrugs, ripping the small scroll in half. She eats one half of the small scrap of paper, giving the other half to the chimera. "Paper's easy enough to digest, dear."

Vel pouts and eats the other. "Bleh... Reminds Vel of kittenhood..."

Hel: "...Suppose that works," the dwarf responds. He flops back with a sigh, shaking his head.

DM62: Jenna shrugs. "So we pretend all is well, then. Act oblivious... and even maybe a little dumber than usual." She strokes Vel's fur. "Just about time to rise, anyway. We'll be arriving in the port this morning."

Vel purrs and leans into the pets. "Vel does as Vel always does. Nothing changes for Vel. Well... Other than Vel always woozy now..."

Hel: The dwarf grumbles, gathering some of his things and prepping for the day, nodding to Jenna's remarks and otherwise looking slightly more stoic and impassive.

DM62: "Well, you're helping to feed your mistress, now. I've dealt with vampires before. Eat an extra ration of raisons or meat every day, and drink more water than usual. As long as you're not feeding him every day, you should feel alright."

Vel: "Vel got spared last night. Vel is doing so as extra food for mistress worthless now so she gets it. Vel has eaten lots more than she usually gets. Vel going to get fat..."

DM62: Jenna chuckles. "Only if you stop feeding her, dear." She strokes the chimera again, then dresses herself, getting ready to depart.

DM62: Irena and Raz'Qui note the party rising, rousing the others as their watch ends. The kitsune nods. "Right... so... my spell will only let one of its subjects speak. Hel, Vel, Jenna, Zyanya, Malius, Arturus, Thrae, and Nisali will be under the illusion... but only one of them will be able to speak. So... who speaks for us?"

Zyanya sighed as the morning came, still not quite use to being a morning person. Course, they were walking into an enemy port under disguise so it might may the day more interesting. "I figured we had decided that already? I volunteered unless someone else wanted to speak for the party. I can't say how diplomatic I can be despite my mothers wishes that I was."

Hel: "I see no problem with it. My tongue's caused enough bad blood lately..." Hel grumbles, shifting his gear together.

Vel: "Vel is bad talk so bad choice."

DM62: "Very well, then. This will take a moment." Irena closes her eyes, then begins tracing patterns through the air with her fingers. There's something of a glow. Then Irena completes the spell, and is immediately transformed into a slender, muscular, female troll. Hel, Vel and Jenna appear to be goblins. Zyanya, Malius, and Arturus look to be orc, while Thrae and Nisali appear to be scorpion-men. Zyanya's orc armor has the markings of a sergeant upon the shoulder.

Vel blinks but is silent as she looks at herself.

Hel: There's a gruff grunt from one of the goblins, who picks at his ear in annoyance, but otherwise the dwarf doesn't make any more comment on his current look.

Zyanya: "You really thin trolls look that pretty Irena? I can't say I've seen too many in my life, but it just seems like you're embeleshing a little." The now orcish Zyanya commented, quite pleased with the temporary boost in authority she has.

DM62: Nisali seems actually a bit terrified from herself, cringing a bit from the massive scorpion-tail. Irena smirks, but only shrugs, as even for her speaking was forbidden. She gestures to the port, a few miles off. At this point Irena pauses. She takes Zyanya by the arm, then points at Nisali's back. She makes a "go ahead" gesture, with a slight bow for effect.

Zyanya nods, understanding the need to look even more authoratative. She'd make her way over to Nisali and climb onto her back, claiming her as her temporary mount for the time being.

DM62: Nisali blushes, a ridiculous sight as the illusion makes her appear to be a stern, muscular scorpion-man. Still, she nods, setting off toward the port at a regal pace, slow enough for the party to march along.

Zyanya: "It won't be long Nisali. Just bear with it for now." She'd whisper as she looks back at her assembled "forces" "All right you lot, get moving."

Vel follows along quietly, trying not to let on her discomfort at obeying someone not her mistress.

DM62: Thrae chuckles and reaches down to pat Vel the goblin, then follows Nisali toward the town, pulling Arturus onto her own back. The port seems to be rather busy at the moment, with goblins moving about carrying goods and supplies. There's something of a commotion ahead, with jeering and catcalls, and a piteous cry in the center.

Vel pays little mind to the noise though mentally huffs a bit at someone riding Thrae like a common slave. Hmph.

Hel: Hel's eyes are watching the streets as they walk, a part of him surprised that they've yet to be challenged. Still, small blessings and all that.

DM62: There's a rather large, brutish orc captain calling out, as the crowd jeers. At this point the party spots a familiar-looking black dragonkin, being dragged by chains. She's clearly been raped and bruised, and the goblins around cheer at her state. The orc captain calls out, "Here we see one of the saboteurs, helping the puny humans! Letting herself be sodomized by elf pansies, and helping turn the cowardly under elves against our cause! Now we shall see the terrible price for opposing our might! They collect heads! We shall do better!" Alexis wails, and is dragged off by a small mob. Nisali starts, but looks to Zyanya, remembering her place in the illusion.

Hel: The dwarf looks sour, looking at Vel and Jenna as he shifts a bit.

Vel raises an eyebrow. Well that had to be it. Well, better go deal with it she supposed, but it;d be up to Zyanya to get to it.

DM62: Raz'Qui shuffles up to the orc sergeant Zyanya. "Sergeant, maybe we should... see the show?" Irena the troll thinks for a moment, then nods to Zyanya, cracking her knuckles.

Zyanya: "Understood. Come on then. We have a show to watch. Little treat for you." The amazon continued speaking as she thought an orc in her position would all the while thinking of what to do at said show. Last thing she wanted to see was a former companion get more hurt or humiliated.

DM62: The party spots a massive orc carrying a large, two-handed axe with an exceptionally sharp-looking blade. Over its head is a brutish-looking executioner's hood, adding to its dreadful authority as it follows the crowd. Nisali needs no more urging, and follows along with the small crowd.

Vel follows along. She herself didn't much care if it chopped down, but it was obvious they were to play along. Ah well, the things they had to do to remain in good graces.

Zyanya: Well that certainly wasn't a good sign. Anyone with an axe that large was looking to kill and they were planning on doing just that to the poor dragon. But she also didn't want to give their cover away so early. It was dangerous...she was at a loss and she didn't know what to do.

Hel moves along as well, quickly working alongside the others. He keeps himself in pace as he tries to work along the others.