Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Oct 7, 2018 14:08:53 GMT -8
Writhed in the azure sky of a clear day , a lonesome spire erupted from an otherwise tranquil forest. Songbirds cries were drown out by the tremendous roar of earth as it toppled down from the walls of this single black tower the sheer magnitude of the tower was a thing of awe several hundred paces around, It’s height simply kept climbing, desperate to escape the chains of the earth which it had been bound-- until it lurched to a screeching halt. The peak far above the wispy clouds, hidden by the blazing yellow sun. The Tower of Eons glittered like forged iron in the light despite the plumes of debris that filled the sky, surely it would be seen from miles.
For those who found themselves drawn to this massive structure would find a simple tall gate at the base. Torches blazed themselves to life at the appearance of any sort of life. Scrawled above the door in a crooked front were runes, their meaning perhaps lost to this world… But the sense of dread that lingered around this door like fog amist a swamp suggested it may have been a warning… The smooth walls of the tower offered no foot or hand holes of which to climb, and the torches seemed to be carved from the strange black stone which the tower had been crafted from. So smooth were these walls that one would guess the entire structure had been carved from a single piece of stone.
Those keen to the ways of magic would sense something-- something pulling at their senses like beggars upon a lords cape. Desperation mixed with hunger that rivaled the sick and dying of a war torn country. Though buried deeply was something more… Something powerful.
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Oct 30, 2018 19:32:19 GMT -8
Stomp stomp stomp. Marius was running from vengeance, from reality, and from the present. Personified, these were a dozen mounted rangers all looking to kill the Knight now his Order was disbanded and he had no power to his name, nothing to defend him from retribution for crimes committed. They'd shot his horse dead, but he yet lived; it appeared he lost them too!
Groaning in pain of an overworked body he collapsed, panting and sobbing. Some hours passed as he lay in the dirt, no longer steaming with heat but rather shivering from the wetness of his sweat. After a few false starts he mustered the strength to push himself upright with a triumphal cry. As he realized he was wholly lost the feeling quickly dissipated to be replaced with unease. Marius looked about, deciding that a call for help would be quite stupid. No, instead he looked for landmarks, and oh my did he find one. The Tower was a sight to behold, and he sensed it with more than just his eyes. Yes, there was a draw and while a little voice in his head said to turn back now, the grounded part asked 'why?' Finding no adequate response he began to walk to the Tower. The thing sure was eldritch as he entered, but it was shelter for now was it not?
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 1, 2018 8:40:49 GMT -8
The path to the tower was surprisingly easy to follow... Almost unnaturally so. The warriors senses, dulled by fatigue and the peril of his near death experience may not have felt the torrent of sinister magic at work, the rip tide lurking beneath the smooth waters--- But nature certainly noticed.
No song birds, no crickets, no game animals what so ever dared make a noise, dared attract the attention of the tower--- but they had little to fear, for the eyes of the Tower were already fixated upon the lone being brave---or foolish--- enough to walk to the very gates of oblivion.
The sheer size of the tower would only be felt as Ritter's stood at the base of the spire. Two enormous black iron doors barred the way. On their face was the likeness of a heroic knight clashing with an unholy abomination on horse back. The detail in this doorway was breath taking. The terror in the knights eyes were plain as the hate dripping from the abomination.
A chill swept across the warrior as the torches on either side of the door's burst into life, unlike the pathway however, there was not a trace of any evil lurking within the spell that brought life back to the beacons.
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Nov 2, 2018 19:15:09 GMT -8
Things were very suspicious. Every lesson drilled into him told him that going forth was a bad idea — but he nevertheless went ahead. Oils along his muscles and leather upon them let him move quick, quiet despite the plate. But for whatever entities that lurked, this would probably not matter....
As he stood before the threshhold of entry, he could not help but wonder about the origins of the place. Was he really going to go to some unknown esoteric building for shelter? Or was there more at work? These thoughts seemed to exit his head as freely as they entered, and it was not long before his attention was instead drawn to the depiction upon the Black Doors. A Knight fighting evil, yes this was his sort of place. Any that could respect Holy Vows could stand by him as Brothers.
Yet, the doors springing forth did unsettle him somewhat. The sudden movement made him raise his blade in a defensive stance, before he made certain there was nobody about to harm him. Mind cleared, one foot after another lead him inside the Tower.
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 2, 2018 23:34:07 GMT -8
( Group 1: Open party, front entrance. )
Near by players: "Ritter Marius Anastasian"
Ritter's slowly began the trek down the tower, the Iron door behind him graoned closed slowly. Far from a trap, the doorway maintained a leisurely pace....A heavy thud rolled down the hallway as the door settled it's self once more. The corridor sloped downwards gently. The cool damp air was offset by the torches lining the wall, their greedy flames licking at the musty air hungrily before our adventurer--- only to die in his wake with not even a sputter of protest. The iron door had not been the only thing embossed with figures. The black stone corridor was lined with works of art. Stoic men holding scrolls, soldiers carrying a flags, battles, beast, more than a number of women,some as Steadfast as the scholarly men or Valiant hero, others--- clearly the artist had an eye for attractive lines carefully hidden by tasteful items. Though soon the walls became smooth as glass... nothing but the torches a head of him to suggest he was moving at all even. Drip... A water droplet collided with a pool in the darkness. It was only after hearing this sound that our Warrior's senses would make them selves useful. A haunting presence stirred in the abyss looming before him, just outside the ever shirking pools of firelight. Torch light glittered in the distances--- Red gleams seem to stare into the holyman's eyes. He was being watched from the darkness. He had come far... Even in this damp air sweat would be rolling down the man's neck. (Suggested choices, you are not limited to these options and may create your own.) *Press onward.
*Investigate Corridor
*Investigate the sound
*Investigate the gleam
*Return to main doorway
[/font][/font] [/div]
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Nov 3, 2018 14:29:51 GMT -8
A Tower Entrance that lead down? How odd. The stone corridor seemed to be telling a tale of some sort. Whoever made this tower had put great effort into insuring there was some semblance of beauty and Marius could could not stop himself from a brief pause to examine it. The Monks that educated him had given some introduction to the arts, and thus he had at least a modicum of appreciation in regards to his surroundings. A faint smirk went across his face behind his helm and the wraps upon his face as he saw the depiction of the women-folk. But, enough of that, he already let his guard down far too long.
Thus, he barely managed to notice the doors behind him closing, which once again brought him to a war-like stance, blade upraised.
Drip.
A bead of sweat soaked past his face-wraps fell on the ground in unison with the water droplet that had fallen, and this in turn made him notice red gleams, something was paying attention to him.... He took his sword in a two-handed grip, and advanced to the red gleams with careful steps to not provoke a violent reaction but at the same time closing the distance. "What is going on here?" he demanded.
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 4, 2018 23:57:43 GMT -8
( Group 1: Open party, front entrance. ) Near by players: "Ritter Marius Anastasian"
As the distance closed, so too did the field of illumination brought on by the wall mounted torches. Slowly a doorway became visible, another made from black iron but far more sinister in design. The Blazing red gleam in the darkness was that of two red Gems set into the eye sockets of a pitch black skeleton that lurked over the doorway, Seeming carved from the living rock wall that made the tower. A frame was set next to the half fused skeleton-- A chill swept across our monk as the letters danced before his eyes--- slowly becoming legible. “ I speak for the Tower, whom speaks for me so I may be heard? Whom might drink for me?” The gleaming gems remained steady, but the feeling of being watched did not falter in the slightest... The doorway was another work of art in it's own right. A man held a scale aloft. On one side was a single feather pen weighing down heavily. The other side were books , a bag, and weapons of sorts all struggling to tip the scale in their favor. The man stood atop a pile of dismembered corpses as a town burned behind him. The skeleton's hand was pointed "to the right" of the door. Drip
The sound came from Ritter's right side. A silver chalice waited on a black marble column, while a clear pitcher caught water dripping from a starlight awaiting int he darkness overhead.
(Suggested choices, you are not limited to these options and may create your own.)
*Investigate the doorway
*Investigate The carved Skeleton
*Investigate the frame and writing.
*Investigate the Chalice and Pitcher
*Return to main doorway
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Nov 6, 2018 15:21:17 GMT -8
Marius truly felt uncomfortable now. Things were certainly not going as expected, to say the least. Accumulated sweat mixed unpleasantly with the oils applied on skin and muscles before battle, soaking him through and through. He got closer and raised his sword for a strike, until through his helmet he saw it was just a skeleton. It was strange, but he lower his blade with his shoulder sagging as his mind went out of the framework for warfare.
Images, letters, words. Was it a warning? A riddle? Angels above, if it was one he had no clue what the damn answer was. Perhaps he was the answer? He sure hoped not. Marius looked to the sudden drip with his head spinning in a blur of movement. It was apparently not a foe, and once more he relaxed, breathing more heavily now.
This was all very menacing, but naught he couldn't deal with. However, for now he had to make sure that he could still leave the damn place now that the door had shut themselves, and to them he sprinted, with an attempt to push them apart.
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 6, 2018 17:56:46 GMT -8
( Group 1: Open party, front entrance. )
Near by players: "Ritter Marius Anastasian"
Ritter's boots pounded against the stone corridor's floors. The echo of which laughed in his wake. On and on he ran---- He'd not walked this far down the hallway--- Torch after torch... step after step... Simply lead our adventuer furher into a bleakness only dotted by the hiss and sputter of the becons---- That was until the torches halted all together! (Suggested choices, you are not limited to these options and may create your own.)
*Keep sprinting *Slow down *Stop *Panic.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Nov 6, 2018 20:53:12 GMT -8
(Group 2)
Moths danced around flames drawn by the brightness of the flickering ambient light unaware of the danger lingering if they ventured too close. Wings devastated by the heat folding inward upon themselves no long able to unfurl and allow them to take flight. Their very doom had been their joy but moments before. Myralthrine felt this the instant the tower appeared in the distance, the gentle lull of its calling bringing her ever closer for rumor and want and need seemed to coincide in the monstrous contraption carved in a time long forgotten. Malevolent now, her memory served to remind her the towers had been a place of peace and prosperity for those seeking knowledge long ago. Twisted interiors and cursed passageways were a new addition, one she was blissfully unaware of as she approached the spire.
As she neared the silence surprised her. No animals dared venture as close as she, a peculiar sign but one made clearer by her listening to the whispers of the world around her. Dark magic, old magic, fearful they were, wanting they were not. Turn back, they urged soft voices on the edge of her mind, and yet she persisted. No answers were to be found in the kindly places of the world, no rumors still existed of the things she sought and therefore she found it necessary to go somewhere more timeless. The wandering of the tower itself and its observations may provide her with that which she needed.
The entrance was lit by dim torch. Helpful perhaps to other races but her eyes were Drow, the dark did not frighten her for she saw well within it. A Morningstar that had rested upon her hip now lay in hand the edge of the long stem resting against her forearm as her thumb touched the spiked round head. A weapon of choice for bludgeoning it served as well to set off traps the weight enough to shift stones that others might step upon.
Besides the visible Morningstar she openly carried no other weapons and was dressed in a rather common style, long deerskin breeches tucked into worn traveling boots, a loose linen shirt that was tucked like her breeches. Leather bracers in the same dark leather as her boots and belt graced her forearms. They were brought together with thong and fit nicely along her forearms. The weather was fair and as such she’d left her cloak with her horse choosing only to carry a small satchel that was placed between her shoulder blades. It carried but the minimal supplies for a few days journey, rations and flint and other small things.
Her snowed hair was kept clear of her face braided back loosely but continuously falling over one shoulder. It glimmered even in the low light but did no outshine her eyes of which were blue. They flashed not with danger but with some intelligence making and drawing observations. One deep breath and a hesitant half step started her journey into the unknown where she hoped to find just that.
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 7, 2018 11:03:38 GMT -8
(Group 2) Players nearby: @grainsofsand OOC: I apologize for any grammar errors, I am not at my home desk and can't proof read it as well.)
The soft leather soles of her boots quietly tapped against the stone floor of the corridor, torches flickered to life as she drew nearer to her. Though these were perhaps a hindrance more so than helpful with how her eyes saw through the darkness, none the less she would start to see depictions embossed by a skilled hand along the walls. Scenes of battles with monsters, lectures, sieges, beast colliding with other beast. Not all the figures fighting were men, more than a few were ladies. One figure in particular seemed to own a rather large portion of the wall, she was in mortal combat judging by the way she stared defiantly up at her foe , a twisted being baring down upon the wounded woman who held a sword at the beast throat. Even in the dim light the sheer level of detail suggested it had been made by magic--- yet not a single trace or signature could be felt... There were other figures who each earned a great portion of the wall, thirteen in total should she keep track, not all were battles but more than a few were. With every step the elf took into the tower, the pull she had felt grew stronger. Placing just a bit of strain upon her sense of magic. Tension of a nervous archer staring down the castle wall at a formation of enemy soldiers... Each and every time she passed a torch, this tug forward was interrupted by a brief chill that could be felt in her teeth, though looking at the torches there was no outward indication of any sort of magic, no signature,not even a trace of what spell clearly lit the torches as she passed... How many torches had she passed? A number likely... (Suggested choices, you are not limited to these options and may create your own.)
Investigate the art work closer Investigate the torches closer Investigate the strange sensation Press on Turn back
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Nov 7, 2018 14:31:20 GMT -8
Group 1
As Marius ran and the blessed steel of his boots kicked up sparks, something quite unnatural happened. Torches went out, and no longer was his path lighted as he proceeded. He realized that too late he came upon the question of how were the torches lit? Whoever lit them must surely still be here, since he didn't see them leave and one by one they went out....
For now, these developments could not be properly analyzed for he lacked the complete picture. Thus, going down a long internal flow-chart his current directive was to continue on his previous course of action. He had near-perfect memory and knew that he was running back to where he came from, he knew that he was going where he should be. The lack of light did not mean he was on the wrong course, he was the Sword of Truth, the Hammer of Fate! In the rightness of what he was doing he had faith and all would go as planned!
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 7, 2018 17:32:33 GMT -8
( Group 1: Open party, front entrance. ) Near by players: "Ritter Marius Anastasian"
A roar not unlike a hammer striking hot iron by a heavy-handed blacksmith rumbled through the tower. The man had careened headlong into the same metal doorway he and entered. The torches and hallway seemed to cackle at him as he laid sprawled on the cold damp floor. (Roll 1D10 for constitution check, or choose one of the following ) 6-10
Staring at the black ceiling the warrior would find the wind knocked from him-- but otherwise was uninjured largely due to his armor Even with such speed, he'd manage to reduce his injuries significantly-- slowing at the last moment.
A mild concussion would be all that bothered him. Dizzyness possibly.
2-5 Struggling to keep awake the firelight rippling around the ceiling taunted him. His body struggled to gain an idea of what had occurred-- Air rushed back to his lungs, his training kicking in. His body fought to allow him to stand and eventually won with the help of the wall.
1 The world goes dark... The last thing our adventure recalls is the Iron door creaking open.
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Nov 7, 2018 18:55:47 GMT -8
Group 1 — Roll: 4
Donk
Marius did not see his fate coming as his head struck the doors, and as he fell back he lay for quite some time, trying to make sense of the world. Damn place was screwing with his head alright, but at least he could sleep here. Eyes began to close until with force he opened them. No, he was hurt in the head, going to sleep now was not a good idea. He stood and shook himself off, once more raising his sword and thanking the Angels he didn't take off his helmet. With that, he decided to go back and examine the pitcher in a more calm gait now, looking for anything to let him stay attentive and awake.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Nov 7, 2018 19:48:35 GMT -8
(Group 2)
Stunning depictions lingered upon the wall placed by unseen hands and unknown talent. The sensation that they were not painted but scryed and simply cast onto the stone was overwhelming. What detail had been placed in each, what sort of master had the ability to capture such realism in his pieces. Each a different scene and different time she took pause at each in order to ascertain if she knew the tale. Were these real events or simply the influence of a rather talented mind?
The torches she passed one by one were never counted. Twists and turns she intended on keeping track of and vaguely she felt the distance of her movement from the entrance. The farther she entered the more she felt as if she were drawn. Like a pair of eyes across the room that flirted without speaking something within the tower was absconding away with her common sense. She should fear such an intense tug, run away, and yet that pit in her stomach was butterflies of excitement at the prospect of exploring further. But it was broken. Never complete for as the fire burned in the sconces graced her skin it disappeared until she stepped forward again. A shiver ran down her back at the intensity of it all. It appeared an experiment was in order and she approached one of the torches.
If the sensation was gone in their presence was it simply because she was not next to the murals? Attempting to free one from the bracket if she was successful she would use it to get a better look at one of the paintings and to see if truly the simple light brought such relief.
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 8, 2018 11:57:15 GMT -8
(Group 1) Players near by: Ritter Marius Anastasian
The warrior made his way back down the hallway, and eventually to the doorway. The hanging skeleton still gazed down at him, directing him to the pitcher as it had before, though the thing seemed to be smiling--- as much as a skeleton could, but there was defiantly a sense of mockery about the inanimate object. The pitcher was interesting, but rather plain when compared to the splendid artistry that seemed to stalk these halls as much as the shadows. A set spirals were imparted in the glass's surface that eventually faded away just before touching the base. The water in the pitcher might not have been there for how clear it was, and would be chilled thoroughly. There was no sense of magic to the thing, evil or good, no aura haunting it, nothing. A plain pitcher of water it seemed. Some possible actions [spoilers] * Examine the doorway * Examine the Pitcher again * Examine the chalice * Examine the skeleton (Roll D 10 for perception check) * Examine the plaque on the wall again. ( roll for d20 for int check for hint) * Write in/ other [/spoiler][/div] [/div][/div]
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Ritter Marius Anastasian
Established
By Fire and Sword
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 19
Physical Description: Quite tall, Marius has jet black hair and eyes green like grass. His features are soft-patrician, a generally thoughtful look about him.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy plate, chainmail and leather cover him from the top of his Orle-decorated helm to the hard bottoms of his boots. He is armed with a large heater shield, a one-and-a-half handed sword and a thick hatchet, with a heavy crossbow in reserve.
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 2:50:42 GMT -8
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Post by Ritter Marius Anastasian on Nov 8, 2018 16:26:01 GMT -8
Group 1
Marius walked on, slowly getting the shakes out of his head as he progressed. Danger seemed to not quite be here yet so he placed his blade under his armpit to rest, while taking off his helmet in his other hand. The pitcher seemed ordinary enough, and then of course there was the chalice. He had a distinct feeling this was one of the riddles where one had to pick from which item to drink, but he spat on thinking what the answer was; it never turned out to be either or and it was often some sort of third position.
The man picked up the pitcher, inspecting it from all angles. Assuming there was nothing in particular to dissuade him he would pour a bit of the water on his neck to cool down, cleanse himself, and make sure it was indeed water.
Assuming naught happened to him as a result, he'd pour most of the rest of the water over his head, feeling wonderful as it drenched his face wraps and got a considerable amount of sweat and other contaminants away from him.
Now he approached the door, with the remnants of the water and stood before it. Once more he examined the water within, and then again the intricate doorway. With a casual movement he decided to splash the rest of the water on the door, wondering if some esoteric business to do with fire and such would have the drawing be "doused".
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 8, 2018 18:58:26 GMT -8
(group 2) Nearby players: Myralthrine Host
Each scene could have gone by a hundred names, and those names could mean a hundred tales. Stories written long before the bones of this world were destroyed and mended. But ever so often fate had a very acute sense of timing. A book opened in passing while scouring the Drow archives--- A name tickled the back of her mind. Mahshun Sal-nah Mordae. The work could have been called fiction, as it was clearly written by a bard of sorts with exaggerated tales of heroism. Her brief skim of the tale and mentioned the tower a few times, namely as a place she gathered with other champions. The symbol holding the woman's torn cloak to was the same as the one that had been on the book. Reaching for the torch as it came alight the chill once more interrupted the pull on her mind, but once settled the pull returned while the chill faded. The torch Came off the wall surprisingly easy--- it's Iron handle was fridged to the touch--- and the fire did not give off heat what so ever... yet still no magic could be felt or seen emanating from the object. Some of the scenes that were not combat also had this same woman or near enough to assume it was in them. Including the furthest depiction on the wall. Twelve figures loomed over a single man bound in chains two spears aimed at the back of his neck, Four held their thumbs Up, while the eight other down. Mahshun's vote was cast negatively, but her expression seemed distraught. (Suggested choices, you are not limited to these options and may create your own. * Try to recall more from the book she'd glanced over. * Further investigate the torch. * Search for more meaning in the murals. * Write in/ other * Move Onward *Go back.
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Myralthrine Host
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 478
Age: 56
Physical Description: Avatar is accurate, 5'6 height.
Clothes and Equipment: Wanderers cloak in a material resembling vantablack in that it does not appear to be a real color. Beneath it she generally wears black leather boots to her knee, charcoal breeches and shirt, both fitted, and black bracers upon her forearms. She carries a morningstar upon her hip and satchel that crosses over her shoulder and chest.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Aug 22, 2018 10:13:41 GMT -8
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Post by Myralthrine Host on Nov 8, 2018 19:09:54 GMT -8
(Group 2)
The painting itself appeared to be an execution of sorts. The decision being made by those standing behind the man at the center who was covered by two more men holding spears out to him in an attempt to keep him in place. One false move and a trickle of blood might slip down their blades not yet killing him but warning. The torch freed from its sconce its lack of warmth made made her curiosity abound. So much magic in one place and yet the feel of it was gone from her, as if she were reaching for something just beyond her fingertips and stretching and yet it was not there. The pull waning now she had a choice to make, to go back or move forward and with one glance towards the entrance she wished she had another choice. Her search had been fruitless thus far and fear, though it was abundant, was simply a part of her that she could not listen to, would not.
Testing the flames seemed pointless, they put off no real warmth and she doubted they burned as they appeared to burn. “Illusions,” she spoke aloud looking once again to the painting, as she had thought earlier it had to be as well. Was nothing real here? Tapping the ground with her boot it felt truly solid. Reaching out towards the painting she placed her palm flat against it. Feeling for ridges or marks from beneath it she did her best to recall all she had heard of this place, not just the odd rumor here and there but the facts of it.
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Tower of Eons
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 291
Registered: May 22, 2017 17:35:36 GMT -8
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Post by Tower of Eons on Nov 11, 2018 19:34:54 GMT -8
Group 1 Players nearby: Ritter Marius Anastasian. The icy water made it's way down the man's neck in the most satisfying of ways. The dirt grime and sweat rolled away effortlessly, pulling the heat away from his trappings, Though now the man would start to be aware of how cool it was in the tower... It seemed there was a strong chill, despite not being too far underground. The warrior splashed the depiction, it had little effect aside from lingering water giving the effect that the man holding the scale upright was crying... Some options. * Investigate the doorway *investigate the chalice *Investigate the Skelton *Investigate the corridor *Investigate the plaque
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