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 Dec 10, 2018 18:34:37 GMT -8
Group 2 Players near: Myralthrine As Myralthrine nosed forward she was assaulted by the gruesome scene before her, not only her eyes but her nostrils. The odor of wet animal rolling in their own waste mingled with burning wood and ink, A huge black cauldron large enough for the elf to bathe in sat atop a throne of ruined books and furniture that had once been part of a display. What could only be called a monster stood next to the cauldron it’s face twisted in a wicked grin as it held its’ fist in the boiling water. Golden ¶threads of hair could be seen clutched in its black, fur-covered knuckles. Thick dark leather armor covered corse fur and muscle, A heavy bladed weapon tugged at its sword belt-- Myrathine could sense a sickness about the blade even from this distance. What the creature pulled from the broth stared at the elf, shrieking in agony and frozen by death: Eyes wide, with puckered wounds and yellowed bruises, all tainted red from the scalding waters--- but it was clear even from this distance. What the beast held in its hand was the head of a woman, a fair skinned elf-- she’d been dunked whole into the broth. · Dropping the figure back into the water, the beast shook off the water from his hand as he turned to his cohort. “ Ó! Zhe ròu Gestoppt prügel.” The tone was rumbling, satisfied, and oozed with hunger. “Hěn hao, wǒmen hěn kuài essen,” the second figure stated with his back to his friend and Myrathine. He brought a gauntlet fist down heavily on something, laughing as he moved to face his friend. “ Zhège, sparen yǐhou zàishuo,” he suggested, turning to his friend, admiring the boiling cook pot. The Drow’s sharp eyes would catch what the second beast had been beating… Laying in a crumpled heap in less than rags sobbed another woman silently-- naturally so- and despite her clearly heaving chest not so much as a whimper was audible… None had noticed our elf as of yet. OOC: The monsters dialogue is loosely based off German and Chinese but will not translated at all.
Beast 1: “ Hey! The meat stopped thrashing finally! “ Beast 2: “Good, Then we shall soon eat.” Beast 2: “We will save this one for later!”
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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 Dec 12, 2018 10:56:30 GMT -8
The scene before her was horrendous. Her nostrils flared taking the acrid scent as it felt tangent upon the air and wallowed in her mouth for a moment before she swallowed her own fear. No matter if this was false or true to her eyes she could not allow the monstrosity of the situation to continue. Whatever memories were carried in these hall she would combat them one by one if necessary in order to prove her own worth. Her Morningstar carried in her hand already since they were not aware of her presence it would be to her advantage to be quiet. Frankly if her wits had been about her she would have reached out with her mind and attempted to steal their very life force but her anger clouded her judgement. If the creatures were much taller than her she would have difficulty in beating them over the head but to spike their legs would bring them out from underneath them and she would have but one chance at this.
Approaching from behind the elf upon the ground was taken into account but she seemed thoroughly indisposed at the moment which meant she was on her own. Taking in one deep breath to keep her from letting out air as she approached her boots were quite weathered and therefore the leather did not creak. Each step was practically silent as she came up to the one behind the tub itself. With luck she would make one giant swing at his legs, and cripple and place him on the ground. If her luck prevailed she would bring it back the other way with all her strength at the tub itself in order to send it askew. It seemed only propped in the loosest of ways and she was hoping to drop it to the ground and send the girl and the water across the floor.
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Chesknight
Committed
Roleplay posts: 57
Physical Description: About three and a half feet tall, and rotund. The Chesknight never removes his armor, and has two glowing, amber eyes peeking beneath his helmet. His arms and legs are short, limiting his mobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Equipped fully in a suit of curious armor seemingly made from large acorns, it holds as fast as any steel. He wears a cloak of leaves, which seems to serve no purpose and wields a sword of amber which seems to function similarly to a normal metal one. He also wears a ring that allows him to discern his location is focused on for about 5 minutes.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Dec 8, 2017 19:08:39 GMT -8
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Post by Chesknight on Jan 8, 2019 18:22:59 GMT -8
Like a titanic sword piercing through the supple flesh of earth the Tower's visage was gleaming beauty and terror. As if it were some form of rod, it's radiating pulse of magic that drew wayward souls to it was a tempting target. Quietly from a great distance the Chesknight watched the curious structure in all its glory. Its arrival had certainly set the local wildlife into a tizzy, an effect that resonated with the fae's sensitive nature. The pull of curiosity, of temptation, did not do quite as much to draw him as a sense of duty. He had heard whispered stories of towers that appeared from nothing, although whether they meant this tower specifically he could not rightfully say.
Yet, no story he had ever heard of such strange happenings had ever ended happily. This was a rather peculiar scenario and yet his tuned senses could feel the lure of powerful magics. Could any choice he made regarding such a structure truly be his own? Or was he a pawn, being lured just as any common burglar, merely using his sense of honor as a motivator? Getting to his feet he brushed himself off, the few birds that had been eating them small seeds he had distributed scattering to the winds once his protection was relinquished.
Those drawn to the tower might very well meet their fates...he could not, in good conscience, allow this. With that determination, he trundled off towards the tower, determined to wait before it. Perhaps he could ward off those who sought to enter it.
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Gwyneth Sol
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 21
Physical Description: Gwyneth stands at a modest height of 5'8". She is very slim and slender- to the point that people may worry of breaking her by bumping into her. Runes adorn most every part of her body, trailing down her arms, on the palms of her hands, and down her long limbs. Her gray hair is typically half braided back but allowed to flow freely.
Clothes and Equipment: She is typically seen wearing her worn and weathered hooded cape and a long dress that trails along the ground. She wears a thick leather belt that had various powders, liquids, and odd talismans hanging from it. She also carries a large gnarled staff with her with a glowing golden stone within it that hums with power.
Registered: Sept 29, 2018 12:05:52 GMT -8
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Post by Gwyneth Sol on Jan 8, 2019 20:24:03 GMT -8
Gwyneth sighed softly as she sat down gently on moss covered boulder, pulling her pack around to pull out a piece of hard tack and a bit of soft cheese she had brought with her for her small expedition. It hadn’t been as fruitful as she had hoped it to be, the rumors of a rare species of fungi she had followed proved to just be just that. Rumors. Though they were slightly above average in size, their secretions and physiology were rather mundane and comparable to any other species she’d already identified. And there were relatively few animals around to study as well. The wood was quiet and still, almost unnaturally so.
She broke the bread and spread a bit of the cheese inside before taking a hearty bite. At the very least, the specimens she collected would make for a hearty supper when she returned to her cabin. And though the wood hadn’t had what she was looking for, it was curious for other reasons.
Why was it so quiet? She hadn’t so much as heard a stray squirrel rustling through the undergrowth in her time there. It was as if every creature had collectively decided to leave. But why?
She sighed and laid back against the rock, shutting her eyes to feel the sun caressing her face as she took a deep breath in trying to connect with the nature around her. Slowly she felt her consciousness slip away flowing through the surrounding nature. All seemed well as she drifted along until suddenly-
Gwyneth’s eyes snapped open suddenly and her eyes darted to the east till she saw it. The monolith stood stark against the clear blue skies. She pressed a hand to her heart as she tried to slow it’s thumping. There was no mistaking it. That was what had upset the balance. She swallowed thickly, staring at it for a long while till the shadow of the structure drifted over to cover the right side of her face. Then, without another moment wasted, she scarfed down the rest of her lunch and took up her staff that had been resting against the boulder. She hopped off the moss covered stone and hurried to the building. Whatever it was, she had to investigate it. Both for the health of the forest and to satisfy her own curiosity.
The dread only continued to grow the closer she came to the Tower, but she stifled it down. Nothing was ever learned from cowardice.
As she neared though, she became aware of the heavy trod of steps nearby and she faltered a bit before she stopped and looked around until she laid eyes on the small form of the fae determinedly trudging to the tower. A bit of a smile graced her lips as she flashed her staff a bit hoping to catch his attention as she continued forward. “Ho there. Good morrow.”
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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 Jan 21, 2019 18:13:33 GMT -8
Group 2 Players near: Myralthrine A sickening wet snap of the Korgan’s calf was drowned out only by the blood-curdling roar that erupted from the monster’s maw as he toppled over clutching the shards of bone between gore covered gauntlets.
The clap of thunder from Myralthrine’s mace striking the cast iron cauldron was enough to rattle her teeth as much as the impact had jarred her arms. Boiling water hissed and popped as the cook pot lurched, covering the already wounded creature in blistering wounds--- Steam billowed from the flaming books mingling with smoke in a haze that distorted one's vision and burned their eyes with an acidic odor.
Whirling in the haze The second creature roared, his blade left the scabbard on his waist, with a rolling hiss as it seemed to boil in the air. Murder was set in the monster’ yellow eyes as he raised his weapon to strike charging with a wordless howl filled in anger could easily be heard over numb, buzzing ears---
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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 Jan 21, 2019 21:06:20 GMT -8
Group 2
Satisfaction came in the crunch of broken bones as it splint in twain the creature lowered to the ground in an instant from the pain that flooded him and the crippling wound bringing him down to one leg. No relief would come from injuring only the one and the pot still remained upright. It needed toppled but the other creature was running towards her. If she did not the elf would die within it and it was preferable that the boiling water had been sent splaying across the floor. The elf girl that had been dipped within it might not have the strength to roll away but the strength of the heat would have faded exposed to the air and other than her other injuries she would not suffer further. Unless one of the creatures stepped upon her. Or knocked it over himself. Quickly attempting to come up with a plan she was sure the monstorous roaring thing that drew a sword still had plenty of strength left even after torturing the others.
Her arms felt heavy, the reverberating sensation that traveled up throughout them making her feel as if she could not swing the mace again, and yet she would. Raising it like a sword in front of her with both hands she shifted position. She had to be quick, and steady, and as she leaped in front of the pot, as if to avoid the creature, she hoped that he would swing the blade and knock the pot over himself. If he did not and came straight down at least it would be blocked by the cast metal, or shorn, and if the latter occurred both her and the girl would not have to worry about the results of their wounds then.
Last second, she told herself mentally preparing to dive the instant that he got close enough.
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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 Jan 25, 2019 10:34:52 GMT -8
( Group 1: Open party ) Near by players: "Ritter Marius Anastasian" The moment the warrior put the chalice to his lips ,the hair on his arms stood on end as a chill swept across him as if a hand had reach out and snatched his throat --- he began laughing--- Convulsing with laughter in fact--- hard enough to crack a rib nearly--- Slowly but surely his laughter settled into giggles… and subsided… “Ohh, It’s been to long since I’ve seen something so funny.” He said--- His words not his own but coming from his own mouth. The tone still trickled with amusement. He himself would be unable to speak at the moment. “What is your name creature? Speak and be heard." The icy grip around his throat loosened…
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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 Feb 19, 2019 10:55:35 GMT -8
Group 2 Players near: Myralthrine The beast lunged at her through the bellowing steam, his sword slicing at a downwards angle , seeking to rend her shoulder to hip-- She dove in an instant- having predicted this attack! The sword sunk deeply into the black iron cauldron's side, boiling liquid spewed out from the gash in the iron. The beast lurched as he tried to tear the blade free , sputtering, a sickly acidic smoke rolled off the blade where it had made contact. Amist all the commotion , the second elf that had been brutally assaulted during Myralthrine's arrival took this opportunity for what it was--- A chance for revenge. The slim pale woman snatched the fallen' beast weapon from his belt--- and severed his head in one motion--- near effortlessly as she slid into a fighting stance, targeting the beast trying to free his weapon. Murder burned in her brown eyes, furry etched into her pale, grime face. The yellow and purple bruises covering her swollen face hid little of the furry--- naked and broken she might have been, but for that instant she was perhaps the most terrifying creature in the room. undeterred by her clearly sever beating she sprung forward like an arrow aimed to lop the beast' sword arm off.
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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 Feb 24, 2019 16:53:02 GMT -8
Group 2
The air of his swing had grazed her even as she rolled to the side planting her weapon in her hand flat in the gesture in a sort of cartwheeled motion. Quick thinking had saved her life but it appeared it would not save the monsters the young elven woman who had been broken almost beyond repair within her mind found the strength in her body to lash out against the two. Pride not her own at her strength bolstered Myra as she knew the sort of revenge she sought even if she were not allowed to do the same.
Finding her feet beneath her and standing her gaze followed the girl knowing where she sought to make contact by the raised weapon and the movement of her small arms. Lithe but capable of Myra was of a sturdier build her strength honed from work instead of given to her by birthright. All elves were strong but she possessed the capabilities of one under duress in recent years.
Shouting in Drow the language was thick upon her tongue. No translator needed to be present for the meaning to be quite clear, it was insulting and intentionally so. Misdirection might help the other girl complete her task and her shouting a sneering jive at the creature was meant to insight his wrath further. Hoping to stagger him even if he did get the blade free she had her mace raised like baseball bat to her right hand side brows raised in challenge. She would finish what she started.
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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 Mar 10, 2019 22:34:58 GMT -8
Group 2 Players near: Myralthrine The creature was no fool. His beady red eyes flickered but for a moment at the Drow as he wretched the blade from the iron cauldron, falling back into a defensive posture. No sooner than the creature's posture shifted did the elven woman strike. The venomous sword hissed through the air aimed at the beast stomach as she moved to fight the monster head on alone. The clash of steel ringing through the small cramped room as the Korgan deflected the first of many strikes. From one form to another the stark naked elven woman pushed the towering creature further and further from the cook pot--- Sheiks of agony rang from the monster with each and every graze the woman managed to land--- Wordlessly she surged onin a cold furry, striking harder--- with more brutality each and every swing picking apart her opponent with every blow knocking his guard away further each strike-- Her blade swung wide with her last attack---and her opponent surged forward knocking her to the ground wish a well placed knee to the sternum--- Instead of delivering a finishing blow however- the beast turned to flee having found his opening.
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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 Mar 14, 2019 14:13:56 GMT -8
Group 2
Strikingly beautiful in her movements the elven woman had a fluidity that was only matched by her kin, and the Drow. It was regrettable in those few moments that the sight before her captured her attention to the point she did not immediately follow. No opening after it had drawn the blade from the cauldron it appeared that her attempt at distracting the creature barely scratched the surface of his own interests but real lacerations occurred a moment later as the blonde headed wonder launched her assault.
Myra readjusted her grip on the length of the handle following behind she had looked for an opening. The instant the creature turned its back she rushed after it. He had to turn and bolt and the motion while quick for a creature of his size was not faster than the Drow who was prepared to take out his knee from the side swinging directly from her hip and following through with her own attempting to plant him on the floor with her next blow being to the back of the skull if her initial plan worked.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 17:48:17 GMT -8
group 2 Players near: Myralthrine CRACK! Like tree branch struck by lighting the creature topped the howling quickly silenced by a damp "Thawp!" as the creatures skull was obliterated. The stench of death mingled with the scent of burning flesh... The body thrashed, a limp fist beat at the mace's head for a moment... but subsided. The clatter of steel falling to the ground behiend Myralthrine anounced the other woman's movement as she raced to the Cook pot, sloshing water poured from the gash in the culdron like a blood from a wound as the pale-she elf strugged to pull her comrade from the boiling concoction, and though her head lurched back as if to scream, not a sound could be heard from the elf's.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 18:01:33 GMT -8
Group 2
The deadening thud as metal connected with flesh driving through the bone of his skull and into the brain matter. The blood that oozed out was thicker than a humans, and oddly colored but the grey matter itself was still grey and squished inbetween the spikes begging for a thorough washing as it ran into the seam lines. The mace carried the memory the heirloom not her own but taken due to spite. A dishonest thing for someone who could not utter anything but the truth. Bringing it back towards her with a yank there was no second glance for the monster, no care in the way she walked away, but fear in her eyes at the action of the elf.
“Stop,” casting her voice across the room she favored the girl more than the cool metal in her palm once again allowing it to fall from her grasp. The girl would burn herself attempting to free her. Injuries far beyond what may have usually been survivable she feared that the burns were something she might never survive. Freeing her cloak from around her shoulders and drawing her pack she ripped the piece of leather that served as a handle. Using it to make a loose knot with a loop as she ran she approached the cauldron. Able to see within but not reach over due to the height the other woman was floating in the water. Placing a hand on the elf’s shoulder in order to calm her she said gently, “Together,” before lowering the leather into the water and attempting to slip it around wrist. If successful in her wrangling one tug would pull it tight and by strength they could draw her to the edge and up and over without reaching into the liquid even if their hands ached to release her at the heat of her skin.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 19:06:26 GMT -8
Group 2 Players near: Myralthrine
The shout didnt rach the woman clawing at her friend, She'd nearly gotten the corpse lifted above the lip of the culdron when Myralthrine moved forward--- The bulging yellowed eyes gazing forward into the Drows as she closed the distance.
The other elf turned sharply pulling both her arms into a boxer like pose the moment the friendly hand made contact--- wild blues darted from Myraltrhine to the cloak before she quickly understood what had been suggested. She followed the dark elf's lead and soon the corpse was pulled from the cook pot.
The pale elf caught her friend's blistering corpse pulling her away from the heated metal, instantly cradleing her fallen friend's head against her chest before burying her face in her friends damn hair....
The heaving of her shoulders only whispered what could not be heard... The dancing fire light glimmered in the various pools of black blood and water... The cackle of the fire drowned out what little noise there was...
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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 Mar 15, 2019 19:16:19 GMT -8
Group 2
The elven woman had attempted with all her might to free the other from the confines of the cauldron. Even after the body was removed the water boiled and bubbled from the dwindling fire that had been laid beneath it. Kindling placed upward the burning would last for another hour before the embers were all but remained still flashing red and orange in the ashes of their wake. Flames had destroyed what little faith in others the woman might have had but Myra was Drow. Her response was to be expected, her fight not one of dispresect but a misunderstanding.
The almost launched assault was met with compassion, with her removing her hand but not her willingness to help and even after they’d separated the boiling flesh of the elf from the pot she did not wander far. Waiting as words that could not be spoken did not come from the woman as she embraced what little remained in the way of the physical. She felt her heart ache. Heart break could be felt not just in tears but in the chest with tightness when one breathed and in a powerful dullness of the beating of their own life.
Not ashamed that tears fell down her cheeks, weeping openly at the sight she came to her knees beside the girl, reached again to touch her this time her hesitation not apparent. No words could express her disdain at not arriving sooner, at not saving both of them. She could only wonder at what might be able to be saved of the girl that was alive for her mental state was certainly under duress.
“I am sorry,” there were few words she knew in elvish. Fewer still she could pronounce correctly, but these, these she knew and with all the grace that was left within the closing of her throat in the pain she gave them all the sincerity and truth that she felt.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 19:50:56 GMT -8
group 2
near by players: myralthrine The contact was all but ignored... The words crashed against the woman like waves against a cliff. Sure something registered... but was there really a lasting effect? Who's to say how long they sat there... huddled on the floor? The fire still cackled, the slain beast still lay dead, and the woman clutching her dead friend was still soundless... A weight brushed along the edge of Myralthrine's mind... The sense of something slithering, like a tongue against the back of your teeth that wasn't yours... The elf stirred, her eyes finally mettingMyralthrines, there was no question in her gaze, no confusion, just a soul poised on the edge of oblivion... Her fair lips moved but again no words escaped... Realizing this the woman's face twisted into an irritated snarl. She tilted her head upwards, showing her throat to the drow before making a "turn-key" motion with her free hand, then pointed to the first Creatures corpse. Her swollen gaze fell back down to her friend. Shaking her head she rose, setting her friend down gently. Her hand lingered for a moment. Lips once again moved wordlessly. She rose and moved to the corpse of the second creature, removing the beast weapon. With her free hand, she motioned to Myralthrine. A single finger held aloft. "wait please.." her expression read. as she knelt by her comrade, placing the weapon in the dead woman's hand before positioning the body in a burial pose. The weapon held in both hands pointed downwards.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 20:55:31 GMT -8
Never counting the seconds that rolled into minutes the time spent upon her knees was not regrettable for the comfort in simply being for another in those few moments was worth it in her opinion. Her life’s work would be to retrieve the jewel and should it take her the rest of her life she would ascertain that the memories that brought her to it were ones she could be proud to have lived. Abandoning those in need was against the nest egg in her soul of seeking retribution only fo herself.
A touch on the back of her mind she regarded it as an inconvenience to be dealt with when time offered relief. It drew her away from her current task as the woman was still wordless. “It is locked away?” Resorting to common to communicate it was the best she could do her limited knowledge of her own language not a pressing need to fix.
Waiting as long as was necessary she rose to collect her cloak, fanning it out, she offered it to the fair skinned woman in order to cover her companion. To offer her only one small thing she could in death. Her pack was picked up as well. She had few pairs of clothes but what little she had she would share bringing out long breeches and a shirt that would surely be loose upon the woman. Setting them aside to wait whatever ceremony became the dead for her she followed suit or did whatever motions were indicted were necessary.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 21:37:05 GMT -8
group 2 near by players: myralthrine The pale elf rose after kissing her friend's forehead, and with a sad smile, she turned to Myralthrine when she spoke. Confusion crossed her face when she spoke common, when myralthrine offered the cloak the elf held a hand up in gentle protest. There was no need. The drow would sense it before she saw it, the dead Elf's skin slowly turned stone grey, not all at once, no, vine-like patterns complete with flowers began to appear over her broken body... Now that Myralthrine had a better look at both the women she'd notice that she was not quiet the elf she seemed to be at a glance. Their jaw line was familiar, but the shape of the ear was different, stubbier, and there were slits under the jaw bone that would have been confused for cuts had they not been on both of the beings... Slowly but surely the patterns danced over the dead "elf" until her whole body was stone grey, meanwhile the once concerned friend at taken to stripping what gear she could from the monsters, namely a tick leather belt and scabbard for her newly liberated blade... The blade was still smoking, giving off that acidic smell until it was banished to a shealth. At the offer of the clothing, the woman smiled and bowed her head deeply before getting dressed. Myralthrine's assumption had been correct, the outfit didn't fit, but the woman made due, using some cord to help hold things together properly and the monsters thick belt. Finding a place to sit the woman gazed at Myralthrine , as if really seeing her for the first time. With a puzzled face she pointing at the Drow, then shook her head and tugged on one of her own ears. She then pointed again to Myralthrine, pointed at her own mouth, and then shook her head pointing at her own ear. She looked thoughtfully at Myralthrine.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 21:53:42 GMT -8
Group 2
The tumultuous affair of the deceased woman’s skin changing from blistering red to grey with a floral pattern was beautiful. Trying striking in appearance it was the first hint that they were not what they seemed. Further observation revealed the small differences in the shape of the ears, the jaw, and the nature in which she shrugged off common unintentionally surprised her. What race had she stumbled upon that was so like her kin but not?
Their questions appeared the same as she relayed something using motions in order to express herself again. Joining her on the floor she’s retrieved some salve made of healing herbs. Contained in a small tin it was powerful enough to heal small cuts immediately and accelerate the healing speed of larger wounds.
Holding it in one hand if they could not communicate her intentions would mean nothing.
“Drow,” she spoke in common motioning to herself before repeating the word in the language of the Drow and then elvish the term harsher in how it was spoken.
Attempting to see if she understood and term she would wonder if she could hear at all and yet she’d paid attention when she spoke on elvish earlier offering her condolences.
“This will help you,” she unscrewed the kid on the tin and scooped out a small bit of the salve with two fingers. Holding out her left hand for hers she hoped her curiosity would prompt her to reach out and then keep her in place long enough for her to place it on the blistering skin where the water had made contact.
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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 Mar 15, 2019 22:12:09 GMT -8
Group 2 Players near : Myralthrine : She tiled her head, nodding, but still wore the confused expression. When Myralthrine tried to speak in Elvish or Drow, the other woman simply shook her head "no" and tapped her temple. She pointed at her ear "Yes." , then again to her temple "No." When the Drow offered the medicine to her the woman the salve there was little hesitation at all, she rubbed the small bit between her fingers first and inhaled it before nodding, a click of understanding was near audible as she began tending the mild burns on her hands. She nodded again with a smile, motioning to the healing wounds before her expression once again went to work figuring something out. AH! an idea! She patted the Drows hand to get her attention. She touched her index fingers to her thumbs on both hands, then held the rings to her eyes like a pair of glasses. then motioned at both of her eyes with one hand, then "scanned " the room with her two fingers before getting up, nearly falling over as her ordeal caught up with her. She began poking through piles of books, looking for something.
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