Troubled Past PBEM 80 - Decisions
Fabian Benavente
Here's the next one. I have more things set up but it was suggested that I let you play
one scene at a time instead of doing a 'two-parter'. I may send out the second part as an
'in between' turns.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Enjoy!
Fabian
Troubled Past - An Eberron PBEM
http://www.geocities.com/cfbenave/Eberron/Eberron-Page2.htm
kirs...@yahoo.com
what appeared to be an abandoned stick on the ground. The foot-long
black wooden wand was covered in runes. On top of it was the skull of
some bird and what seemed to be black feathers adorned the wand. Here
came the voice again, and this time, the bird's skull moved its beak
speaking to them.
RPG: Flask's eyes practically gleamed as he beheld the runestaff.
This was some mighty magic at work, perhaps, and it was easy enough to
find out for sure. Gesturing urgently for the others to remain silent
for now, the old scout muttered a few nonsensical words in the language
of the Xen'dirk giants and began to grow.
The human's tanned skin took on an orange hue, his body swelling to
fill his loose clothes. He gained almost a foot in height and a hundred
pounds of bone and muscle. His hair turned reddish brown, his eyes
amber, hiding under heavy brows. His left ear vanished, replaced by a
ragged burnt scar, his teeth lengthened and sharpened, the tip of his
nose turned light blue. In a few seconds, a hulking brute of a
hobgoblin stood in his place.
Mel adjusted his now snuck-fitting clothes, winked at the others and
strode boldly forward, shouldering Belkar aside. He planted his legs
wide and crossed his arms over his wide chest, staring down at the
runestaff with a suspicious scowl on his face.
"Dagah tar'aak an? A' daran m' Khyber Kurohto o' dagah?!"
Mel growled in the Goblin language, his tone challenging. "Marag
an'dar Dhakaan e' ghah! Ta'ka bah rahga vaara i' kagar."
[What manner of thing are you?! And who in Khyber is Kuhorto? Answer a
true son of Dhakaan or be silent! A mere skull has no place to talk to
its betters.]
TAG: Everyone interested...
NRPG: Lovely! Time to play the changeling game and let the others
slowly come accustomed to it. Changing into hobgoblin shape, using
Racial Emulation to become a hobgoblin as far as any power on Eberron
is concerned, just in case the thing knows who and what addresses it
;^) And since you gave me permission to pull legends from my hat
earlier, I'm going to make use of that if the situation demands it...
but the need for that depends on the rune-thingey's answers, if any
are forthcoming.
-Jussi / Mel
Fabian Benavente
> slowly come accustomed to it. Changing into hobgoblin shape, using
> Racial Emulation to become a hobgoblin as far as any power on Eberron
> is concerned, just in case the thing knows who and what addresses it
> ;^) And since you gave me permission to pull legends from my hat
> earlier, I'm going to make use of that if the situation demands it...
> but the need for that depends on the rune-thingey's answers, if any
> are forthcoming.
Let me give the other at least a day to post initial reactions; I'll post tonight.
L8r,
Angie Gignac
Fabian Benavente
> strode boldly forward, shouldering Belkar aside. He planted his legs
> wide and crossed his arms over his wide chest, staring down at the
> runestaff with a suspicious scowl on his face.
>
> "Dagah tar'aak an? A' daran m' Khyber Kurohto o' dagah?!"
> Mel growled in the Goblin language, his tone challenging. "Marag
> an'dar Dhakaan e' ghah! Ta'ka bah rahga vaara i' kagar."
>
> [What manner of thing are you?! And who in Khyber is Kuhorto? Answer a
> true son of Dhakaan or be silent! A mere skull has no place to talk to
> its betters.]
The black-feathered stick did not move or seem to recognize that someone was addressing
it. As the hobgoblin approached it to get a better look at it, the bird's skull squawked
again. "Kuhorto, this is no time for your wanderings! Get back to the obelisk; we'll find
the python's egg later!"
The the thing went silent again; the bird's skull as lifeless as one would suppose it
should be.
[tag]
----------------
[Bryn-edited]
The druid acted immediately; though she sympathized with Daram's plight, she couldn't
allow him to risk his life and theirs on a suicidal rescue attempt. Guiding the raptor
with a quick word and a squeeze of her knees, she reached for her boomerang as her mount
repositioned himself. With barely a second to aim, the halfling sent the boomerang
speeding down the path. As she hoped, it collided with Daram's legs, sending him crashing
to the ground. The boy was agile and rolled with the fall. He came up, dusty and limping.
He cursed his bad luck and about 200 feet down the path interned himself into the thick
jungle
[tag]
-------
ooc:
Sorry Angie, but no knowledge of the talking skull at this time. Now I did say it had
runes/writing covering its shaft so I'll provide more info later if someone is brave
enough to get near it.
L8r,
King, John
Transfixed by the scout's metamorphosis, the warforged stood silently and absorbed every aspect of the change. Still training in the artifice discipline, Ember made a point of studying the eldritch arts with a critical eye whenever possible, hoping to memorize a set of command words or evaluate the practical uses of the spells to justify channeling their use into some form of enchanted item. Shape change was particularly fascinating to the warforged, having both military and civilian applications. Ember would have to make mention of this to Master Digeom upon their return to the estate. Ember doubted warforged physiology would be as pliable as that of fleshy creatures, and thus less likely to be compatible with such magics, but there would very likely be a market for artificed items amongst Lord Waldemar's military or espionage forces. Contemplating the possibilities, the warforged almost missed Daram's escape. Having been tasked with keeping the boy in line, the warforged had been careful to stay close, and diligently watchful.
Apparently not diligently enough though, as the primitive wand and Flask's magic had provided enough distraction to allow Daram enough time to slip away from the living construct's grasp. Ember, monitoring his aural sensors carefully to pick up sounds of Flask's skin stretching or bones snapping to be reshaped, heard neither of those particular noises, but did catch the hurried footfalls of the boy hastily beating down the jungle path.
The construct's head snapped to the side to see Daram running as fast as he could, arms flailing as he frantically tried to pull himself through jungle air thick with moisture. "Daram leaving..." the warforged spoke coolly, despite the anxiousness building in its fibers. Ember could detect its body tensing but didn't know why. If anything, they should be relieved to be rid of the boy, he was only going to slow them down. Besides, if the boy stuck to the path, he'd eventually find himself out of the jungle. The only thing along the way was the- "Village!"
Ember turned and hunched down into a lunging position. Within mere fractions of a second though the warforged was up again, charging full speed down the path towards Daram, the staves of his war maul and battle axe clacking against its hull as the weapons bounced on the construct's back.
Daram could not be allowed to reach the native's village. If caught, he would most assuredly jeopardize the ir'Valerians' mission, most likely by accident, either by indicating the direction in which the group had run off or by revealing their ultimate target. Ember would grapple the boy down into submission if it could, but the warforged was not above using more severe methods to ensure its companions' success.
[tag Bryn's 2nd part of post]
[ooc - Fabian, some questions for you - how far ahead is Daram? What are our two rates of speed? How far away is the village, time and distance-wise? What is the likelihood of Ember catching Daram to grapple him to the ground? If Ember has no chance, and Bryn is unable to catch him on her mount, I will need to look at other options. Thanks.]
Fabian Benavente
[ooc - Fabian, some questions for you - how far ahead is Daram? What are our two rates of
speed? How far away is the village, time and distance-wise? What is the likelihood of
Ember catching Daram to grapple him to the ground? If Ember has no chance, and Bryn is
unable to catch him on her mount, I will need to look at other options. Thanks.]
Given that the boy is limping and having struck through the jungle (leaves a nice trail),
feel free to have Ember catch up to him after a couple of minutes of running (there goes
that non-lethal damage again). :)
I take it you'll write out the scene? Daram is deeply hurt about the group abandoning the
Morgrave party and only wants to free them if possible.
What precautions will be taken such that these incidents do not happen again?
Game on!
King, John
________________________________
kirs...@yahoo.com
obelisk; we'll find the python's egg later!"
RPG: The hobgoblin frowned at the staff. Mel had wished the thing would
be housing a bound spirit of some long-dead goblonoid, but now it was
starting to look like some sort of programmed messenger device. As it
happened, Mel himself knew a spell to imitate at least part of the
effect he believed he was seeing.
There seemed to be some excitement going on behind him, but Mel could
be single-track minded when confronted with an intriguing mystery.
He'd let the boys and girl play with each other while he tried to get
to the bottom of this little mystery. So the changeling peered closer,
trying to get read the runes he saw written and etched on the staff.
Perhaps they'd be more enlightening than the cryptic remarks. What
obelisk? What python?
TAG: Everyone interested...
NRPG: Sticking one's nose closer, so please tell me what the runes
say. By the way, did the Morgrave notes mention an obelisk?
-Jussi / Flask
King, John
John
________________________________
Angie Gignac
Fabian Benavente
On one side of the staff, the word kagaac (raven) is written in large letters.
On the other side, the words kagaac (raven), mal (hawk), and orlaan (eagle) are written.
Tom Andry
[Bryn / old]
"What's he saying?" she asked, moving up beside Leif. "And how does he change his body like that? I thought he said that he only knew a little bit of magic."
[Leif / new]
“Yes, I thought so too.” Leif’s brow conveyed his concern. Something was up. Leif didn’t know that much of magic but this seemed to be fairly high level. Still, he could have an item or… Leif didn’t know. What he did know was that the emotions emanating from the man were… confusing. It wasn’t the stress he’d expected to feel. It was more… exuberance? “And I wish I could translate, this is not a language I’m familiar with. I guess we’ll have to wait for Flask to fill us in.” Leif lowered his voice, “Given the propensity of mind control lately, let’s keep a close eye on him in case this staff has that ability as well.”
[later]
“Ember!” Leif hissed through clenched teeth, “his nose!” Ember cocked its head to the side for a moment then move its hand down an inch. The inrush of air was audible and immediately reduced the blue tinge to Daram’s skin. Leif motioned the metal giant over and stared Daram in the eye. “I understand what you are going through, believe me I do. You don’t want to leave your friends and you don’t care if you die in the process. You just want to help. I understand and if it worked out that way, I’d have Ember let you go. But that’s not what will happen.”
Leif paced as he spoke, “You’ll run over there thinking that you’ll sneak in and free a few. Together you’ll overpower the tribe and everyone will live happily ever after. But you won’t get within 30 yards of that camp before those women detect you. They’ll capture you and you won’t die. You’ll talk. You’ll tell them everything they want to know. And the next thing we’ll know we’ll have the whole tribe breathing down our necks. Add to that the inevitable traps and challenges we’ll face within our objective, we’ll be between the proverbial rock and hard place. All because you wanted to die a hero.”
“Well, that isn’t going to happen.” Leif placed his palm against the man’s head. He closed his eyes and concentrated; the familiar hum of his power low and subtle. Slowly, his hand began to vibrate causing Daram’s eyes to widen and water in pain. After a moment, Leif gasped and pulled his hand away, visibly shaken. The hum, instead of crescendoing as it normally would, simply faded away. “I didn’t want to do that but you left me little choice. I’ve implanted a command into your brain. With a mere thought, I can stop your bodily functions. In an instant, you’ll lose all control of your body. Unfortunately, it doesn’t kill you. You’ll still be conscious and aware, just unable to move. You’ll just lie there as the creatures and predators of this jungle slowly eat you alive. Perhaps we’ll find you on our way back, perhaps not. Now, are you going to be a good little human and stay where I can see you?”
[tag]
Tom Andry
Associate Editor
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kirs...@yahoo.com
a perch and frowned. There was an omen right here if he was of a mind
to see it that way. A magpie was almost the same thing as a raven,
right? Not that he would know... one dark bird was much like any other
to him. Since talking to the staff didn't seem to do any more good
Mel the Hobgoblin extended his hand, following the goblin runes with a
finger as he mouthed the words "Kagaan... Mal... Orlaan..."
* Assuming the staff doesn't react, or at least says nothing new *
A moment of expectant silence, then Mel shrugged his shoulders and
exchanged a puzzled look with the magpie. He straightened up and walked
back to the others, though he didn't shed his disguise. He took note
that the University lad seemed to have injured himself while Mel was
having a conversation with the runestaff, but Mel didn't consider it
a worthy topic for discussion. The lad's sullen looks and furtive
glances towards where the native village laid spoke volumes.
"Curious," Mel grunted in the common tongue, the voice coming from
the hobgoblin throat harsh but clear of his usual ever-present accent.
"The staff talks about someone called Kuhorto, urges him to forget a
hunt for python's eggs and get back to an obelisk. Perhaps a
reference of the tomb we are looking for? You know anything about it,
lad?" Mel said, glancing at the gloomy student.
"In any case, we better keep on going before the natives get on our
case," Mel went on. "I'll stick to this guise for a while; I'm
good enough to fool spells and divinations that try to divide my
origins, and the tomb might be protected by magic aspected to the
ancient Dhakaani races. Could save us a lot of pain and frustration,
giving wards what the wards want," he went on, shrugging his
shoulders.
TAG: Everyone interested...
NRPG: Repeating the question since you cunningly avoided it; did the
Morgrave notes and the old legend say anything abo0ut an obelisk?
-Jussi / Mel
Fabian Benavente
> Morgrave notes and the old legend say anything abo0ut an obelisk?
Not on purpose, I jusr forgot.
Yes, the notes mention an obelisk though it's not clear whether the obelisk is part of the
tomb or not.
Would you please describe 'how you are speaking to the staff'? Did you pick up the staff
at all? When?
Fabian Benavente
[Leif-old]
“Well, that isn’t going to happen.” Leif placed his palm against the man’s
head. He closed his eyes and concentrated; the familiar hum of his power low
and subtle. Slowly, his hand began to vibrate causing Daram’s eyes to widen
and water in pain. After a moment, Leif gasped and pulled his hand away,
visibly shaken. The hum, instead of crescendoing as it normally would,
simply faded away. “I didn’t want to do that but you left me little choice.
I’ve implanted a command into your brain. With a mere thought, I can stop
your bodily functions. In an instant, you’ll lose all control of your body.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t kill you. You’ll still be conscious and aware,
just unable to move. You’ll just lie there as the creatures and predators of
this jungle slowly eat you alive. Perhaps we’ll find you on our way back,
perhaps not. Now, are you going to be a good little human and stay where I
can see you?”
[tag]
I'll hit this tag fully tonight but he doesn't like it.
kirs...@yahoo.com
something like Mel standing before the staff, staring it down like a
good, noble, not-too-bright hobgoblin warrior confronted with strange
magic might. But I'm certainly considering taking it with us ;^)
-Jussi
Les Anderson
The healer watched closely as the old human shifted and morphed into a
hobgoblin, clearly interested in the process. This was impressive
magic indeed.
No wonder their patron had sent this scout with them. To be able to
take on the shape of the group you were infiltrating was a powerful
advantage to any infiltrator.
The healer spoke the language of magic as well as he did the human
tongue, but as far as he could tell the old scout wasn't invoking any
power Lan knew. Of course there could be any formula to call forth the
proper power to shape the arcane magic of the world, but it tended to
follow a familiar pattern. This was just gibberish as far as he could
tell.
Strange.
[later - reaction to Daram trying to escape]
The healer turned and watched as first the student and then the
warforged charged off into the jungle. Daram was quickly lost to
sight, though his trail was clearly visible through the thick
undergrowth. It was a simple matter to stop the boy.
He reached out to touch the young man's mind, following the sense he
had cultivated of the human over the past day. There he was. As he had
told Flask, a mentalist did not need eyes to see.
The boy was tired and hurt, hopeless and scared. He knew he couldn't
do anything, would likely die if he braved the village, but he had to
do something.
Lan understood the boy's emotions acutely. He truly wanted to help the
Morgrave expedition as well.
The psion could have shut Daram's legs down with a flick of this
mental switch, could have made him want to run screaming from the tree
in front of him and back toward the party with that one. But the
human's feelings gave him pause. Why should he not let the young man
take his chance? Wasn't that the right thing to do?
Too late. He felt the boy's shock as Ember finally caught him up. Lan
shook his head and turned back around to see what Flask was doing.
[later - examining the staff]
Lan had no familiarity with goblin, which is what this sounded like,
but he did know a thing or two about magical artifacts. He sidled over
to the hobgoblin and watched as the scout- wizard?- examined the wand.
The healer's sharp eyes took in the unfamiliar runes and general
construction of the wand and skull. His expressionless face took on an
expression of serious thought as he made his own examination of the
squawk stick.
There was something familiar about it, but Lan couldn't quite place
where he recognized the design from. And there were only so many ways
a wand this simple could be constructed- any similarity could be
complete coincidence.
OOC: Spellcraft/Knowledge (Religion)/Psicraft/Knowledge (Psionics)- anything?
--
Les
Fabian Benavente
Ok, one more time...
Were you holding it when you read the runes out loud? Did you read the runes out loud?
Is anybody holding it, taking this thing with you?
If Bryn is aware of the staff's engraving (Raven), she could confirm that the feathers and
general size of the skull is that of a raven.
Is it too soon to recap tonight? Is the plan to continue on to the tomb? Any precautions?
I need to know what you guys are doing with the goblin staff.
So many questions...
Game on!
kirs...@yahoo.com
>
> Is anybody holding it, taking this thing with you?
Well, if you call muttering under one's breath reading it out loud,
then yup! Blast away ;^)
And if doing that doesn't kill Mel, he will take it along and use it
for walking stick if no better use presents itself. Never waste
perfectly good magic, even if he's starting to think it's merely the
focus of some rather sophisticated Magic Mouth spell.
-Jussi / Mel
Angie Gignac
[Leif / old]
"Yes, I thought so too." Leif's brow conveyed his concern. Something was up. Leif didn't know that much of magic but this seemed to be fairly high level. Still, he could have an item or… Leif didn't know. What he did know was that the emotions emanating from the man were… confusing. It wasn't the stress he'd expected to feel. It was more… exuberance? "And I wish I could translate, this is not a language I'm familiar with. I guess we'll have to wait for Flask to fill us in." Leif lowered his voice, "Given the propensity of mind control lately, let's keep a close eye on him in case this staff has that ability as well."
"Curious," Mel grunted in the common tongue, the voice coming from
the hobgoblin throat harsh but clear of his usual ever-present accent.
"The staff talks about someone called Kuhorto, urges him to forget a
hunt for python's eggs and get back to an obelisk. Perhaps a
reference of the tomb we are looking for? You know anything about it,
lad?" Mel said, glancing at the gloomy student.
"In any case, we better keep on going before the natives get on our
case," Mel went on. "I'll stick to this guise for a while; I'm
good enough to fool spells and divinations that try to divide my
origins, and the tomb might be protected by magic aspected to the
ancient Dhakaani races. Could save us a lot of pain and frustration,
giving wards what the wards want," he went on, shrugging his
shoulders.
Fabian Benavente
(anacondas are boas) and pythons lay eggs, then wrap around them until they
hatch. I have no idea how psionic snakes give birth.]
Actually I checked my biology before assigning who the egg belonged to. I needed an 'egg'
so I checked to see which big snake laid eggs and which gave birth to live young. And I
chose the python; just so you know that I'm a 'prepared' GM. :)
God knows how many inconsistencies there are in the game, but at least I got this one
right. :)
BTW, touching the staff isn't going to trigger any catastrophe. I just needed to know to
determine how certain NPCs will react later. So whatever was planned after the group
leaves this particular site may still happen.
I think I'll wait until tomorrow and then leave you guys once you find the obelisk (or
whatever you're going to find....)
King, John
________________________________
From: Troubl...@googlegroups.com on behalf of Fabian Benavente
Sent: Mon 7/17/2006 10:53 AM
To: Troubl...@googlegroups.com
King, John
[Bryn]
The druid acted immediately; though she sympathized with Daram's plight, she couldn't allow him to risk his life and theirs on a suicidal rescue attempt. Guiding the raptor with a quick word and a squeeze of her knees, she reached for her boomerang as her mount repositioned himself. With barely a second to aim, the halfling sent the boomerang speeding down the path. As she hoped, it collided with Daram's legs, sending him crashing to the ground. The boy was agile and rolled with the fall. He came up, dusty and limping. He cursed his bad luck and about 200 feet down the path interned himself into the thick jungle.
[Ember-new]
Emanating a guttural growl, the warforged veered left off the path in pursuit of the young student. Traversing the jungle terrain would be a mild annoyance, but in Ember's mind the chase was already finished. Bryn's boomerang had provided the warforged enough time to make up considerable distance and would give the soldier the momentum it would need to rush the young man down to the ground. Even trodding through the uneven jungle brush, branches and vines whipping at its hull, the living construct pushed forward unrelenting.
[Bryn]
Bryn urged her mount forward for the chase, but before he could move more than a few steps, Ember crashed up the path and followed Daram into the woods. The last thing she wanted was to get into the way of a rampaging warforged, so she stopped her mount. Ember would probably catch him, and if he didn't then she probably wouldn't have either. For a moment she stared worriedly up the path, but Flask was still talking to the skull, and she turned her attention back to the strange-looking human. Glimmer had landed on his shoulder and was inspecting the now-silent skull with great interest. Bryn was surprised that Flask's changes didn't bother the bird in the slightest.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Lan]
The healer turned and watched as first the student and then the warforged charged off into the jungle. Daram was quickly lost to sight, though his trail was clearly visible through the thick undergrowth. It was a simple matter to stop the boy.
He reached out to touch the young man's mind, following the sense he had cultivated of the human over the past day. There he was. As he had told Flask, a mentalist did not need eyes to see.
The boy was tired and hurt, hopeless and scared. He knew he couldn't do anything, would likely die if he braved the village, but he had to do something.
Lan understood the boy's emotions acutely. He truly wanted to help the Morgrave expedition as well.
The psion could have shut Daram's legs down with a flick of this mental switch, could have made him want to run screaming from the tree in front of him and back toward the party with that one. But the human's feelings gave him pause. Why should he not let the young man take his chance? Wasn't that the right thing to do?
Too late. He felt the boy's shock as Ember finally caught him up. Lan shook his head and turned back around to see what Flask was doing.
[Ember - new]
Some fifty paces off the beaten path, a sharp rasp of breath and gurgling came from a thick carpet of ferns. Hidden by the undergrowth, Ember hunched over young Daram, who was fighting to catch his breath between sobs. The warforged had laid him out, knocking him off his feet into the dense foliage and burying his face in the saturated mucky soils.
Reaching down, Ember picked the student up by his shirt, rolled him over, and then dropped him back to the jungle floor. "Quiet," the warforged said dispassionately. "Need get back to group. Returning to village will be death."
Daram coughed, spitting out mud from his lips and looked up at the warforged, his chest still heaving hard. When he'd finally gotten his breathing under some semblance of control, he managed to focus on the construct's words. "You don't care!" he spat at the warforged, flashing it an icy glare. "You don't care, you cold metal bastard! They need-" Daram broke down into another fit of coughs and sobs. "Don't you see? They need our help!"
Daram's words rekindled old familiar stirrings within the living construct. So many people throughout the five nations assumed the warforged race to be nothing more than ruthless, heartless machinations, bred only for war, known only to spread destruction and despair. Even after the Treaty of Thronehold, when the warforged were given their emancipation, they were viewed with distrusting eyes in many places, still misunderstood, even by the scholarly, such as this Morgrave student.
Ember had always struggled to find a place for itself; to find a way to fit in, to be related to and accepted as one might do a fellow flesh-skinned creature. It had met success with a very limited scope - Master Digeom and the other artificers, a select few guards, and the new comrades Ember had befriended on this journey. But even now, after much time and effort, the construct's progressive instability seemed to threaten even the strongest of bonds. If the warforged could prove it was more than a simple war machine, it felt compelled to do so. But given the hostile environment the ir'Valerians found themselves in, now was not the time to show a softer and more lenient side.
"Aye. See they find trouble. Can not help now. Outnumbered five to one, best case. Help means death." Ember leaned down, its glowing red eyes inched from Daram's. "Our death. Now quiet, or make you quiet."
The student would not acquiesce so easily. He started to stand, his voice becoming indignant. "I don't care, dammit! At least I'm-" The words stopped abruptly as the construct's plated forearm came down upon Daram's forehead. The student dropped mid-sentence, but Ember was there to catch him before he hit the ground again for a third time. Picking the young man up by the waste, Ember turned, and headed out toward the path.
Halfway down the path back to the group, the boy stirred with a start. Immediately, Daram began kicking and screaming, his arms flailing and grasping at Ember's massive hand, trying to get it to release him. Instead, the warforged stopped, clamped down on the boy's body with his other hand and placed him back firmly on his feet. Ember surmised that it could walk Daram the rest of the way from here. Clamping its thick three-fingered hand over the boy's face to stifle any sound, Ember pushed forward down the path, its other hand planted firmly at Daram's waste, driving him forward by his center of gravity.
[Leif]
"Ember!" Leif hissed through clenched teeth, "his nose!" Ember cocked its head to the side for a moment then move its hand down an inch. The inrush of air was audible and immediately reduced the blue tinge to Daram's skin. Leif motioned the metal giant over and stared Daram in the eye. "I understand what you are going through, believe me I do. You don't want to leave your friends and you don't care if you die in the process. You just want to help. I understand and if it worked out that way, I'd have Ember let you go. But that's not what will happen."
Leif paced as he spoke, "You'll run over there thinking that you'll sneak in and free a few. Together you'll overpower the tribe and everyone will live happily ever after. But you won't get within 30 yards of that camp before those women detect you. They'll capture you and you won't die. You'll talk. You'll tell them everything they want to know. And the next thing we'll know we'll have the whole tribe breathing down our necks. Add to that the inevitable traps and challenges we'll face within our objective, we'll be between the proverbial rock and hard place. All because you wanted to die a hero."
"Well, that isn't going to happen." Leif placed his palm against the man's head. He closed his eyes and concentrated; the familiar hum of his power low and subtle. Slowly, his hand began to vibrate causing Daram's eyes to widen and water in pain. After a moment, Leif gasped and pulled his hand away, visibly shaken. The hum, instead of crescendoing as it normally would, simply faded away. "I didn't want to do that but you left me little choice. I've implanted a command into your brain. With a mere thought, I can stop your bodily functions. In an instant, you'll lose all control of your body. Unfortunately, it doesn't kill you. You'll still be conscious and aware, just unable to move. You'll just lie there as the creatures and predators of this jungle slowly eat you alive. Perhaps we'll find you on our way back, perhaps not. Now, are you going to be a good little human and stay where I can see you?"
[Ember-new]
Listening to Leif's threatening words, Ember could not tell whether the shifter was telling the truth or bluffing. Its comrade's psionic powers were so foreign to the warforged, Ember supposed anything could be possible. Even still, the soldier thought it best to have a contingency plan in place. "Can tie him to hull," the warforged said, rapping on its plating. "Won't get far. Anyone have rope?" [Ember has rope, but it's in his bag, which is... somewhere? We carrying all our stuff I guess?]
[tag, or if no one offers some up and the idea isn't shot down, add the following]
"Comrade Leif. Rope in bag. Mind extracting? Will hold human."
[tag?]
Fabian Benavente
is it a staff? I thought it was more like a wand, a foot in length? Just want to make
sure I picture this thing right. You never know when Ember might need it for a makeshift
blunt weapon.
[Fabian-new]
Yes, we called it just about everything. I see this as 1 to 2 foot long stick (not a
staff).
BTW, I didn't get to the turn, but should be able to tonight. I'll be out of town until
Friday but should be OK as far as internet access.
L8r,
Angie Gignac
-----Original Message-----
From: Troubl...@googlegroups.com [mailto:Troubl...@googlegroups.com]
On Behalf Of Fabian Benavente
Sent: Tuesday, July 18, 2006 7:37 AM
To: Troubl...@googlegroups.com
Subject: Re: Troubled Past PBEM 80 - Decisions (DM ooc)
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Fabian Benavente
> something up for Bryn, because she will definately argue against taking it.
> And I assume that we're continuing up the path towards the obelisk after
> this?
Jussi may be out (time difference), but the answer to both of those questions is yes. I'll
write up the turn tonight with the group finding the obelisk. I'm assuming that the
Bryn-Leif discussion is self contained (no other tags) and that it will be done tonight
sometime. Right?
Game on!
Tom Andry
interrupt/comment. Sorry for the delay, it's my fault.
Tom Andry
Associate Editor
www.Audioholics.com
Over 1 million readers a month and growing!
-----Original Message-----
From: Troubl...@googlegroups.com [mailto:Troubl...@googlegroups.com]
On Behalf Of Fabian Benavente
Sent: Tuesday, July 18, 2006 4:01 PM
To: Troubl...@googlegroups.com
Subject: Re: Troubled Past PBEM 80 - Decisions (DM ooc)
Game on!
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