RE: Troubled Past PBEM 75 - The Student [Ember ooc]
King, John
From: Troubl...@googlegroups.com [mailto:Troubl...@googlegroups.com] On Behalf Of King, John
Sent: Tuesday, June 13, 2006 3:33 PM
To: Troubl...@googlegroups.com
Subject: RE: Troubled Past PBEM 75 - The Student [Ember]
Ember cocked its head to the sky as it took its momentary respite. Something about the hissing sound seemed so… familiar. Others had mentioned snakes that made such a noise, but Ember had such limited experience with the animals. Master Digeom had used their scales in some concoctions, as well as old moltings, fangs, and the occasional egg, but had never needed a live one for study. So why was it so familiar?
A dark cloud grew within the warforged’s mind. Perhaps it was familiar to the “other” being that wished to lay claim to the construct’s body. Perhaps that was where the vague tone of recognition sounded from. Ember hoped not. The construct was far too distracted right now to count. The hissing seemed to invade its very essence, as though filling its head with air.
Ah yes, that was it! Air, similar to the gas found in some of the warforged internal bladders. That’s where he’d heard the noise before. In battle, a mortally struck warforged often emitted such a hissing sound as its bladders depressurized, spilling vital gases and liquids to the ground. The sound proved most unsettling for any warforged that had seen a comrade fall in battle. Sickly wet hissing, the occasional sputtering as thick yellow vascular fluid seeped out-
[Flask]
"Up an' about, ye lazy bugger!" Flask shouted into Ember's ear, planting his feet in a wide stance, putting his hands on the construct's shoulders and tried his very best to shake him out of it - whatever it was that ailed the construct and the commander. Were it not for the presence of a threat it might have been a funny sight, the thin, light-weight scout trying to muscle the massive and solid construct around. The man's eyes were wide with panic, his bedraggled beard twitching as if independently alive. At first the construct refused to budge but then Flask managed to find enough leverage to get Ember moving...
... and had to jump back with a yelp as the warforged fell down on his back, almost crushing Flask's foot in the progress.
"Git ye up!" he raged, drawing back a boot to try to apply sufficient force to wake Ember in a different manner; by kicking him in the face. Gently.
[Ember-new]
As his foot descended toward the warforged, it crossed Flask’s mind that perhaps kicking the unstable construct might be a bad idea. Still, he’d made his decision and he’d stick with it. Ember was tough enough to withstand a boot to the head physically. Flask could only hope the same could be said about the construct’s emotional state.
He didn’t have long to wonder though. Just before the boot connected, a large metal-cased hand clamped down on the scout’s ankle, preventing the strike from landing. Slowly, the warforged lifted its head, its gaze following the length of the leg up to the face of its owner. Then its eye apertures constricted, its complete focus bearing down, or perhaps up, on the old man above it. Flask gasped held his breath, waiting for the construct’s reprimand, or its retaliation.
He received neither.
“Many thanks, Comrade Flask. Further agitation of external plating will no longer be necessary.” Hastily, Ember got to its feet and looked around, refocused on its duties. The hissing continued, but it no longer held such enchantment for the living construct. Instead, the sound indicated a nearby threat to its comrades, one that was no longer patient to follow in measured pursuit. The warforged reached down to pluck its maul from the jungle floor and turned to face Daram.
[Bryn’s material/other tags]
In preparation for unknown battle, the warforged recalled its most recent teachings from its master artificer. From within its torso, Ember began to emit a low hum that over time seemed to steadily increase in both pitch and intensity. Then, before the sound reached an unbearable frequency or volume, a form of charge was released from within the bowels of the metal warforged that erupted over the construct’s mithral-laced plating.
Running out in front of the slow-paced Daram, Ember fell in line with Bryn’s animal companions, but directly in front of the student. Turning around, the warforged held out its war maul, pressing the giant cast iron head into the younger man’s chest to prevent his further advance. Cold blue sparks traced their way down the construct’s arm toward the man, but they failed to arc across the long darkwood handle to the maul head.
“Halt, please, for own safety. Will deal with this,” the warforged spoke in a clear but rumbling voice.
[tag]