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Messages - Ravager Zero

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House Rules / Re: Warhammer [Fantasy] 9th Edition random ideas thread
« on: July 19, 2015, 11:33:31 AM »
Alrighty! What do you guys think of the dice rolling so far?
I maintain that 1+ saves are stupid in any system.

Moving on… I think the commentary was actually better than the rolling in every case you presented. Now, if you put that kind of commentary in your "improved" ruleset (and of course ignored GW, as we mostly do now) then there'd be nothing stopping you taking fantasy by storm.

Hobby / Re: Mold Lines - Scrape, Cut or File?
« on: August 09, 2014, 12:50:01 PM »
It's material dependent. Plastic gets scraped, lead compound metals (yes, they're still used by some companies in 15mm's) get cut with a fresh blade, and pewter & resin get filed. When it comes to tools its just a generic x-acto style knife, with 45º and 30/60º blades. My files are a GF9 diamond file set, and the half round has got to be the most useful thing ever.

Does anyone other then Xan actually know Frank's name?
Frank's actual name?

The fact Xan has called him Frank/Larry/Something, yes.

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: May 29, 2014, 10:47:14 PM »

Ekatrina smiled up at the massive shaman. It looked so innocent and open it was vaguely unsettling for reasons he couldn't quite place. "You may look into mind, Kraytor of the line Faeyon, but remember, I will be seeing in to your mind at the same time."

"You may not like what you see, little girl."

"What I see is what I see."

Kraytor placed two fingers at the young woman's temple, weaving the skeins through her mind, guiding his mind into hers. What he saw was flashes of instinct and emotion, memories surging with each, associations and chains of events. But what he needed to find was motive—why did she want help? And there it was, plain as day. She was still just a girl, worried about her mother. Nothing more, nothing less. She could be trusted—although how much use she would be ina  fight was debatable, considering she had never even sparred.

"So what if I don't like fighting?" she asked rebelliously when Kraytor broke the connection. "You like the taste of blood too much."

"You should at least know how to fight," Oan responded. "The people who have your mother are very dangerous. If you can't fight, you can't come with us."

"I don't have to fight—my magick will fight for me."

"You've been in a mage duel?"

"Sometimes, with mum. Mystics have great magicks."

"Shamans are better."

"Sometimes, Kraytor of the line Faeyon. Sometimes," she turned to Oan and Emily. "Hey, know where we can have lunch?"

"So, you ran into Reithon… interesting," Oan took a swig from his ale before continuing. "Tybalt's got the right idea, could lead us to where we want to go—but when I saw him, he was just as scared of Sanna as he was of everyone else. Could be a dead end, but we'll keep an eye on it. Speaking of which, Ekatrina, these are our companions: Tybalt, a runesmith; Kahlan, one of our healers; Xan, our other healer—and his plant, Frank; Marcus, he's a warrior, born and bred, got us out of some tight situations with that hammer of his; Maggs, a friend from my past; and you already know me, Kraytor, and Emily. Let's see, that just leaves Thomas—he's a little odd, and quite badly hurt right now. And of course, Atlas and Rock, our Dwarves—actual Dwarves, not midgets; what I've learned of their culture is fascinating, to say the least… anyway, you said you could help us find you mother."

Ekatrina chewed slowly, nervously taking in the way all eyes had turned to her. She swallowed loudly, then spoke. "I can sometimes see through my mother's eyes, a trait we share as mystics from the same family, and something enhanced by my shamanism. I know there are at least half a dozen men holding her. They talked about some kind of ritual, and a 'crux'. I know she's still in the southern heights, but it's not clear where. The closer we get, the easier it should be for my mind to find hers. Then I guess you guys fight the bad men, I get my mum back, and we go our separate ways."

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: May 21, 2014, 04:41:13 AM »

Tybalt was in the southern reach of Hygar, currently pacing the halls with Marcus and Kahlan. They were hot on the tail of something—something magickal in nature—but they couldn't be sure it was mistress Sanna, or somebody else. What they sorely needed was better information than what Kjellson had left them with last night, but her was now busy rallying support from mages guild. If it came to a fight the magick would be flying thick and fast. It might even prove to be the only way to take down Ruin if these madmen succeeded in their plan.

The trio rounded the next corner, Marcus in the lead, and crashed into someone they didn't recognize. Someone they couldn't recognize. An older man, very nervous looking, who had just dropped a music box with a discordant crash. Music whispered from the box, dark and sibilant, no lullaby this. But that wasn't what drew the attention of Kahlan and Tybalt. It was the way the music seemed to reverberate through the skeins around them. Somehow, someway, not the box, but the music it played had been enmeshed. Enmeshed with dark magicks.

Already the shadows were starting to grow, shifting despite the even light, twisting and turning into unnatural shapes, slowly rising out from the floor and walls. Tybalt drew against the Essence as swiftly as he could, attempting the invocation of Sanktu, intending to form circle that any minor daemons would be unable to enter. Something went wrong, very, very wrong, and the skeins burst away from him before wrapping around the slowly forming daemons. Except now they were fully formed, sleek fur, burning eyes, glittering teeth. Lupine shadows.

Marcus was quick enough to see the source of the problem, and brought his hammer crashing down on the music box. Sunlight burst from the strike, and thunder echoed down the corridor, temporarily stunning the daemons. But the music box remained, centered in a crater two feet wide, the floor of the corridor cracked in a crazed spiderweb around it. Something dark surged within it, and the lid snapped shut. Nothing dark or evil had yet survived a strike that powerful from the massive warrior's hammer.

Kahlan sprang towards the daemons, a dagger in each hand, whirling like a dervish. From what the others had told her of their battles, lupine shadows were the weakest of all the daemons they had encountered. That fact held true as the shadowy forms seemed to dissolve as soon as her blades touched them. It was over in seconds, Marcus's hammer obliterating the one daemon that tried to escape past them. Kahlan grabbed the old man who had dropped the music box by his collar and slammed him against the wall.

"What the hell was that?"

"S–Sanna gave it to me. I can't get rid of it. It's cursed."

"Clearly," Marcus picked up the box in his free hand, inspecting it carefully. After a moment he returned it to the older man. "What's your name?"

"Reithon. Aerys Reithon."

"Didn't Oan mention something about a Reithon when we got here?" Tybalt asked the others.

"He did," Kahlan confirmed, not quite sure when Oan had told them that tale—and about Emily, and… "You led them straight into an ambush!"

"Th–they told me to. I couldn't help it. They wanted the girl—just the girl—for something big. I don't know what. Just don't hurt me."

"I should," Kahlan quirked an eyebrow at Reithon, loosening her grip on the dagger in her right hand so he could see the missing little finger. "Because those people cost me one of my favourite fingers. There's all sorts of fun magicks you can do with ten fingers…"

"Kahlan," Marcus rumbled next to her.

"Fine. But we can't just let him go."

"Actually, maybe we should," Tybalt spoke softly, touching the music box under Reithon's arm. He was also carefully invoking Kiisari on both the box and his own dagger. Better to let him run and keep tabs on him. He might even lead them straight to where they wanted to go. when Kahlan didn't let Reithon down Tybalt gave her a pointed a look, nudging the skeins around them. She frowned at him, but let Reithon escape into the distance.

"Mind telling me what you're up to, runesmith?"

"I invoked Kiisari, the rune of binding sets on his music box—and on my dagger. We can find him again."

Marcus clapped the runesmith on the back, nearly causing him to stumble. "And you think he might lead us where we need to go. Brilliant."

Oan was not having an easy time with his search. Mostly because he was busy interposing himself between Kraytor and Emily. He'd chosen to bring Kraytor with them so he could keep an eye on the massive shaman. The short discussion he'd seen the man have with Kjellson over breakfast seemed to have changed something in the man. Hardened him somehow. Oan wasn't sure what it was, but he was going to keep tabs on it. Emily was with them because she'd insisted on following Oan—and she had proven herself able to handle critical situations the previous day. Quite handily too.

She was also with them because she was a mage—to some degree—and might be able to back up any magickal insights Kraytor had during their search. Or she might see danger before it was coming, something she said she'd been able to do in the past, just thinking it was good instincts. But it was more, she was a Blue Seer, and going over all he knew, Oan hadn't met one before, or read of one in at least ten years. She was perhaps the most unique person he'd ever met, and her sister was somehow the architect of everything that was happening right now, which was another reason for bringing her along on this entire quest.

But there was more going on now, trails to be followed, signs to be investigated. Kraytor's magickal talents had led them to the upper levels of the southern reach of Hygar—all three teams were exploring that realm now. But apparently the shaman was sensing other things as well, saying he could almost feel the heart of the world beating in the air above them. Something about the Stone Circles and the Broken Peak. Oan had done a little research. There were ten circles in all, arranged around a central dais. Each circle was carved from a different kind of stone, different forms and structures of pillars or claws surrounding their edges—some broken and aged, some looking freshly hewn. Each Stone Circle was dedicated to a God or Goddess. Each had a split surface, showing the duality of their respective canticles.

Beyond that there was nothing solid, but each circle seemed to form a focus, a crux of power for mages dedicated to a particular God. It might even have been the reason mistress Anatalya managed to overpower Kraytor in their duel; playing on his ignorance of local custom. But she'd been honourable, played the part well, perhaps she hadn't used Skol's circle, but another's. Perhaps even that of Kyron or Deaze. Something to investigate when Kraytor wasn't around. But for now, they had to follow the massive shaman's lead. He'd just picked up on something powerfully magickal ahead of them.

She was a mystic alright, but it wasn't Élise Sanna. She was far too young for that. She was just sitting in a small, circular room, legs crossed, eyes closed. Breathing. Meditating. Kraytor reached out to shake her awake, but drew his hand back as if stung. The air glowed and shimmered around the young woman. Oan was expecting a violent response, but instead, the massive shaman smiled. Emily leveled her gaze at him, silently asking what had changed.

"She is a shaman," came the simple reply.

"I am also a mystic, Kraytor, of the line Faeyon. I know why you are here. I felt your mind brush against mine this last night. She is my mother."

"But you're only…" Emily got a good look at the girl's face.

"Fourteen," the young woman replied. "My mother, the mistress Sanna, tells everyone she was lucky she could still bear a child at her age. I think the Gods may have interceded. I suppose you wish to know my name? Yes; I am mistress Ekatrina Sanna. I should like to help you on your quest. The men who took her are not nice people. I have been able to see through her eyes briefly—she is still within the city, not too far from here, I should think. I do not know exactly where, because I am not often in the southern heights."

Xan led his band of four through the upper portions of the southern reach, Rock and Atlas serving as a vanguard, Maggs covering the rear. They were expecting a fight—the dwarves were almost spoiling for one, in fact. But so far all they'd found was frustration, and a complete lack of Élise Sanna—or pretty much anyone, for that matter. It was enough to make Maggs suspicious at any rate. Even with the low traffic generally spoken of, they still should have encountered someone by now. That they had not spoke volumes about how much power their foes must have had over Hygar.

They spent the rest of the morning in a fruitless search through the upper levels, returning reluctantly to meet the others for a midday meal and exchange information in order to narrow down the search. Atlas made sure they passed the bounty board on the way back, taking down the notice about the imps, grumbling something about getting properly paid. Then he and Rock were off, paper in hand, with a promise to return within the hour—the poster of the notice did not live far from where they intended to meet the others.

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [OOC/Sign-up thread]
« on: May 12, 2014, 09:53:23 PM »
Random thought: Is telepathy/mental communication available in any way in this world?
With summoned creatures, yes.
Otherwise, no, the best you get is Shamanism to influence emotion, or Illusionism to plant ideas/falsehoods in other minds. Both are based more on intent than actual words.

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: May 09, 2014, 06:06:22 AM »
Kjellson looked sadly at the shaman in front of him. The truth was a painful instrument, but it was always necessary, in the realms of magick. It simply couldn't be helped. A person was either born a mage—born with Talent—or they were not. How they were raised, how they served in their formative years, that informed the colour of their magick. Canticles were determined based on a practicioner's base proclivities. There were oddities, of course. Naturomancers were one of a special handful. So were runesmiths, although they traded versatility for control. Unknowingly, of course. And then there were the Mystics, those who studied the very nature of magick; the Terramancers from the far east, those who studied the source of magick, bound and learned all there was to know about Essence. And this mage, this red mage, sitting across the table from him, wanted to change. How very difficult he could make things. Kjellson sighed.

"I can see how badly you desire change, shaman, but it is not possible. I cannot teach you finesse and control, because that is not the way my own magick works. I had finesse last night because you and your compatriots were so focused on your task. I had control because that is what all ritual magick is about—control. You know about the thirst, you know how it clouds your mind—but you do not understand that it will ultimately consume you, destroy you, or both. It cannot be stopped, any more than the motion of the moons above us. You can learn restraint, you can hold it at bay… but such restraint must come from within, not without. You must conquer your desires in order to stop them ruling over you."

Kraytor sat there, frowning. His voice had a dangerous edge. "So you will not help me?"

"I cannot help you, even if I wished to do so. The powers of a red mage are highly individualistic, and thus it falls to the individual to learn. I could teach you until the end of time, but if you did not accept and learn what I had taught, it would make no difference. The thirst is your curse. Your powers come with the greatest price—though you may well have more raw power than me, it is unrestrained, wild, savage. To tame your powers, first you must tame yourself."

"Enough riddles—speak plainly before I demonstrate my powers."

"Exactly," Kjellson sighed, giving the shaman a pointed stare.

"The guards here have not always been helpful," Tybalt supplied. "On the few occasions I've had to travel to Hygar, the guards seemed to have little presence. They don't get involved in anything that doesn't threaten the city proper. Violence happens, and if it gets reported to the guards, they'll investigate. Sometimes. Ruin—if our enemies are attempting to summon him—is a big enough threat they should respond in force."

"Should," Oan echoed.

"If they think it's a credible threat. I have no doubt Kjellson could help us convince them."

"Fine, we can leave that to Kjellson then; he has some pull with the mages guild too, so they might help us as well. If there's nothing else to go over, I think we should start searching. We could cover more ground if we split up, but we don;t want to stray too far in case we actually find mistress Sanna and her captors. Ideas on that?"

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: May 01, 2014, 11:36:40 AM »
They were at the tavern again, and as always breakfast was becoming a lively affair. It wasn't just them though. Kjellson had shown up, three other mages trailing him. A number of the city guard were also in evidence. Apparently everyone was concerned enough to have a stake in the matter of mistress Sanna being sacrificed to summon a Principal Daemon. It made sense considering how much damage had been done to Hygar before Ruin had been banished by Nyrvan the first time. There was also great discussion about the nature of the magicks Kjellson had used the previous night—mostly by Kraytor.

"The magick was all wrong," he took a bite out of his food, swallowing before he continued. "It did not feel like it belonged to any of the canticles."

"The Runes don't belong to any canticle," Tybalt reminded him. "They belong to their own tables."

"This was different. He called upon the skeins like any other mage, but how he used them was wrong. It was like everything just worked for him."

"Ritual magick," Xan shrugged. "Is it really that different?"

"It shouldn't be."

"But it is," Kjellson's voice echoed behind Kraytor. "I'm a Naturomancer, shaman. A blue mage. I could taste the blood lingering on your spirit last night."

"So you know I'm dangerous."

"All red mages are—and there's a reason a lot of you don't make it to your elder years…"

"Just what are you trying to say, 'naturomancer'?"

Kjellson smiled. The gods you know are not the only gods of this world. "True magick is not constrained by schools and canticles."


Kjellson shrugged, returning to his table.

Tybalt, Oan, and Marcus were busy discussing plans, covering any contingencies. It transpired from checking various maps the the southern section of the city was not far from the Broken Peak, where the stone circles sat. That 'not far' just happened to be straight up through several hundred yards of mountain. There were a lot of paths through that section, as it crossed the Lesser Kinsman district and the Forge district. Too many paths for all of them to cover. For all the oaths through the mountain however, there were only half a dozen that led out of the mountain proper. They formed a crude ring around the stone circles. It seemed that if they couldn't find Sanna quickly—within the day—then waiting in ambush at the stone circles was likely to be the best plan.

They still needed time to prepare, Thomas had agreed to show them all how to manufacture snapbows, and he himself would be carefully working on more grenades. They would be armed to the teeth for the coming battle—if their foes succeeded, they would need every ounce of firepower they could muster.

Online Roleplaying / Re: Re: Enter, The Darkness [OOC/Sign-up thread]
« on: April 21, 2014, 01:07:26 PM »
I know my updates are few and far between these days, but I will continue this until the story is properly resolved.

The main reason for my slowness in updating is that other thing I'm writing over at Over 115k words and counting.
The other reason is I'm playing too much Titanfall. And working on a Kings of War army. And two Dropzone Commander armies. And three Infinity armies. And… you get the picture.

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: April 21, 2014, 01:02:37 PM »

Morning shed new light on the party's problems. Their rooms were abuzz with conversation as they prepared for the day ahead. Kjellson had told them the moons would align either tonight, or tomorrow. That was a very tight deadline, especially considering they had to search the entire city in order to find Sanna. Hygar was a maze, and the maps tended to be incomplete at best, because the city seemed to go deeper than the mountain. But it wasn't getting into the unexplored areas that was the problem. It was getting back. Alive.

Thankfully Sanna wasn't in one of those places. As Kraytor had informed his companions earlier, she was in the south of the city, deep within the mountain, but still in the mapped areas. At least, she felt that close. Estimating distance using only the skeins and the power of another mage was not an exact science. Still, it had to be close. That was why Kraytor insisted they make an a raid as soon as possible, gather the strongest among them, and lay waste to whatever hole these people chose to hide in. Oan was arguing that they should take caution, use the day to study their targets, then strike just before nightfall. Tybalt countered with a proposal to ambush the men trying to invoke the ritual on their to invoke. Kjellson had said they would need the Stone Circles after all. Marcus raised the issue of bringing in the city guards, or even hiring other mercenaries to aid their cause.

Still in the bedrooms, Emily and Kahlan were tending to Thomas's wounds. He had taken one hell of a beating from that revenant. It hadn't been a lot of hits, but one really telling strike. He should have been dead, but as Kahlan explored his flesh with skeins around them she found that the black blade had somehow missed every vital organ. There was minor bleeding still, but it wasn't life-threatening. Kahlan had to wonder if the hand of fate had smiled upon Thomas in that moment as he tried to defend his newfound allies. There was a darker answer that remained possible. Rehd might have left some kind of mark on Thomas; the assassin seemed intent on keeping his end of the bargain and collecting the payment he was owed. If Thomas died then he wouldn't be able to collect. Kahlan shivered at the thought of magic that dark and powerful.

You should help the stunty Frank grumbled.

"And you should watch your tongue. What if he could hear you?"

"Could hear what laddie?" Atlas asked the young healer beside him.

"Oh, Frank's saying I should help you. Makes sense, you got pretty banged up in that fight last night. Now hold still."

Xan drew the skeins around him weaving them around with subtle, sweeping gestures. Through them he could sense all the damage within the Dwarf's hardy body, all that was bruised or broken. Anything stressed or strained. Xan fed the skeins into the injuries, into the strains, and gently pulled the skeins apart, leaving their strength within the Dwarf and allowing the spent skeins to carry away his aches and pains. After a few minutes Atlas yawned and stretched expansively, he felt undeniably better.

"Aye laddie, you know yer work well. My thanks."

After collecting their weapons, and donning more appropriate garb in some cases, the party of adventurers, warriors and saviors made their way to the tavern. Breakfast. A breakfast for champions, the meal was advertised as. After the events of the previous night however, none of them felt like champions. They just had a job to do, and if they failed again, Hygar would most likely be wiped out. No pressure.

Spoiler: Health (click to show/hide)

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: April 15, 2014, 03:47:00 AM »
Spoiler: Rolls (click to show/hide)

"Well, master Defet, it was not entirely unexpected. Most of it appears to be superficial damage, although some of those benches will have to be replaced. It certainly does look like a bomb went off in here, but nothing overly valuable was damaged. I expect we'll find that stolen cabinet before too long—well, more likely that you and your companions will find it, but we do expect it back before you leave."

"You seem quite calm about all this."

"We have had experience with your earliest works."

"Oh, right," Tybalt had a chagrined smile. "I could say I'd help, but Kjellson was right, we need a good meal, we need a rest. Then we need to find mistress Sanna."

"I don't blame you master Defet. We have some apprentices that could do with a little more exercise, and this fits the bill perfectly. Just try not to break anything else when you get back."

Dinner would have been a sombre affair, had Rock not immediately started telling the story of how he and Atlas had killed a broodmother earlier in the day. The energy with which he told the tale was enough to lift the party's spirits, at least for a little while. Those not paying so much heed to the story—like Oan, Maggs, Tybalt, and Kraytor, were busy planning out how best to approach their latest problem. Kraytor was of course arguing for a brute force solution. Oan and Maggs wanted to gather more information and strike at the ritual's pivotal moment, causing maximum disruption. Tybalt preferred a surprise attack, something between the two extremes, perhaps an ambush as they made their way to the ritual site, because the Fulgromancer would probably have trouble moving everyone that swiftly.

To that end, Tybalt had procured their tome on new and ancient gods, and was currently reading about Fulgromancy.

The powers of Eryje are tempestuous and well known, as it is her rage that rules over storms of the sky and seas. Fulgromancy is the command over storms and thunder, and grants its practitioner great powers. The price of these is their unpredictability, and only the best Fulgromancers ever manage the kind of control mages from other canticles often take for granted. Storm calling is probably the best known example of this unpredictability, as even when the ritual is followed correctly, the practitioner can get anything from an overcast sky to a fulgurous thunderstorm—regardless of what they actually desired. To the greatest of her servants, Eryje grants a different boon, not control, but the power of movement swifter than a bolt of lightning. Little has been studied of this power, save that the fulgromancer must have been in the target location recently in order to travel swiftly to it.

The other canticle under Eryje, wardancing…

Tybalt closed the book. It had been somewhat informative, but it still lacked a real sense of what fulgromancy could actually do. It had at least managed to explain how their foe had managed to teleport in, then out again—but that raised the question of how recently he might have been through the runesmiths' hall. Questions for another day, Tybalt decided, taking a long draught of his ale. They'd done enough for today—well, they hadn't, they'd failed, he corrected himself—but there was little else they could do, and in the morning they would likely be able to come up with a better approach to the problem.

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: April 12, 2014, 04:54:43 AM »

"You!" Anatalya spat, her uninjured hand describing a great arc. "You greet me like that, and think I'm going to help you?"

"Yes," it took Kraytor a moment to understand that the fear he'd triggered had galvanized the cryomancer into taking action. Very direct action. Which would explain why it was so damnably cold—and why he was currently pressed against the wall under a sheet of ice, leaving just his head and hands free.

"And you think you can still scare me?" Anatalya's voice seethed with rage. Her eyes flashed white, her irises clouding over, taking on strange fractal patterns. The voice that spoke again was hers and not hers. Deep and reverberating, filled with all things cold and dead. "Impudent mortal. Gods have no fear. It amuses me to let you live, so you live. For now."

Frost fell against the floor with every word, seeming to drip from the very air in the hall. Anatalya's body turned away imperiously, slamming the door behind her. A foot of impenetrable ice covered it an instant later. After ten minutes of magickal assault the barrier hadn't changed or shifted in any way. Not even the barest hint of a crack. He wasn't sure what he'd seen in that final exchange with Anatalya, but it most certainly was not her. It almost seemed to be the same kind of transformation the others said Ja'nus had undergone. Almost.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to make grenades yourself, master Fencer," Thomas coughed as he spoke, sitting upright with Emily's help. "It's not exactly what one might call safe. Lots of black powder, and certain other alchemical compounds. The striking mechanism is clockwork—more reliable that way—so once you set it off, you can't undo it. I can make more with the right supplies. Certain weaponsmiths and artillerymen will understand the process, so if you find them, they may be able to help.

"But, I can show you how to make a snapbow," Thomas added quickly. "It's simple, easy to hide, and easy to reload. Not as powerful as a bow or a pistol, mind, but can be a damn sight handier."

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: April 11, 2014, 05:37:46 AM »

Chapter 8

"Élise Sanna. She tried to ambush us earlier," Oan explained quickly. "Someone contracted her to kidnap Emily and send her to Vidan."

"You think she's the one trying to summon Ruin?" Tybalt asked.

"Kraytor," the ranged turned and eyed the massive shaman dubiously. "Could a mystic summon a daemon?"


"Sanna is a mystic?" Kjellson tried to clarify.

"She is," Oan affirmed.

"That's why they took it. Damn them. It was never the glowstones they wanted. It was the Naptha," Kjellson cursed as he realized what was happening. "I do not know if this Sanna is a friend to you, but it would seem she is to be the sacrifice to drive the ritual."

"Didn't you say they also needed dragon's blood?" Tybalt recalled their earlier conversation.

"For a mage. For a magess they need Moons' Ash, and they'll already have it. The academy's supply was raided three weeks ago. You all look like you're about to head off to fight again, to rescue or stop this Sanna woman. I would adivse caution, and patience. The ritual of summoning cannot be completed for at least another day, possibly two. It can only be performed at night, on one of the stone circles, under the light of two full moons, while the face of Cronos is hidden from the sky. You have a little more time. Time to rest, time to prepare. I suggest you use it wisely."

"I will be returning to the academy shortly, and if you have any further questions you may ask me there. For now my advice would be to get a solid meal, sleep, and then spend the morning preparing to interrupt the most dangerous ritual known to man."

Off to the side of the hall, Atlas turned to address rock. "I'm not sure 'know' is the right word here laddie. I reckon we're more'n decent brothers in arms, but I don't really know any o' these people. Or at least not as well as maybe I should. Y'see Kraytor there, big brute of a man; he's a shaman and a chaosigan. Basically he controls nature and breaks stuff. Kahlan's a healer, powers like Nata has. Seems a mite angry 'bout losing tha' finger though. Oan there, with the cloak, bow, sword and everything else? He's a ranger. Right proper folk they are according to manlings. Not sure much accord I'd put t' that, but 'e does seem a good sort. Very useful in a pinch too.

"Marcus, now he's a mercenary—means he fights for gold. Never did ask him why he stayed, but I think it might have somethin' t' do with our young healer over there who's missin' her finger. And he uses a right proper weapon too. Not some pansy sword or bow, but a hammer. An' that ain't no normal hammer either. Slays daemons like nobody's business. Then we got Tyablt there, runesmith. Not quite the same as Helzon's magicks, but I reckon its close. Seen some of his work, it's damn fine for a manling's craft. Xan, y'know, the odd one, with the plant; he's a summoner, healer too. Not really sure o' much else about him.

"Then you got miss Rose over there, with the pretty dress and the flintlock pistol. Don't let them thin arms or manling prettiness fool you—she's just as dangerous as any one of us can be. She's worked hard for it too, seen her sparring against near everyone here. Then we got Thomas—'e just got stabbed by that reva-thingy. Ah think he's more'n a bit out of his head, but he had to be dragged along. And that explosive o' his was stupid powerful. An y'know what? I don't know that other manling next t' Oan, but they do seem t' know each other."

On the other side of the hall, Maggs was talking with Oan. "So you're telling me you just up and walked into this ambush?"

"Not exactly. We were expecting a fight. We weren't expecting Sanna to just snatch Emily away," Oan gave a little laugh. "Emily handled it well enough. Took Sanna at gunpoint and held off the guards until we could break in."

"Doesn't look she's got that kind of fire in her."

"You don't know the half of it Maggs," Oan clapped his hand against his friend's shoulder. "And you never will."

"Oh, now you're just teasing me, Fencer, and you know it."

In the centre of the hall, Kraytor ignored all of this. His sole concern was finding Élise Sanna again. If they could track her now, it would be much easier than spending time to narrow it down later. That, and he could perhaps repay in kind what her kidnappers had planned. No reason to hold back there. He wondered idly about mistress Anatalya. Her skills could prove very useful if it came to a proper fight. As he sent his mind out along the skeins, touching those he had touched earlier in the day, he found Anatalya in an unguarded moment, reading about the whims of Skol.

It was uninteresting, and he sought a different mind anyway. One which he had brushed against only briefly, but whose magic was distinctive. He could tell Sanna was in distress. In the sea of minds and souls throughout the city, from scuttling insects and scurrying rats to hunting cats and brooding mammoths, Kraytor could see Sanna clearly. Because, he suddenly realized, she too was seeking out another mind. Her Essence flaring like a beacon against a darkening sky. She was in the upper levels of the city, to the south, the corridors were small, but not cramped. Few people were about. Shadows fell around them, masking them from view. No, a shadow had fallen over him.

It was Marcus, the massive warrior had a pensive look, and was resting his hands on the pommel of his hammer. When Kraytor looked up the warrior's eyes hardened against him, and he spoke with utter conviction—although not loud enough as to be overheard.

"You killed her. The woman in the Hollow. She didn't attack you—you made that part up," Marcus leaned intimidatingly close. "I saw you kill her in cold blood. And then you tried to take that memory away from me, shaman. Consider this the only warning you'll ever get."

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]
« on: April 07, 2014, 10:15:45 PM »

Tybalt took Kahlan's injured hand in his own, inspecting the injury. It was strange, and possibly the cleanest cut he had ever seen. There was no blood, and no burnt flesh around the wound. Kahlan's hand still shook, and the lower edge, where it had ben cut by the magick, was blackened and burnt. There really wasn't anything he could do to heal that kind of injury, but he could heal Kahlan herself. Weaving the skeins together, he invoked the rune Kaduse, and Kahlan felt healthier and a little less fractured.

Emily rushed to Thomas's side, searching frantically for anything to stop the bleeding with before remembering everyone was probably carrying bandages, or had some magickal skill at healing.

"Somebody help me!" she cried to the room. "Thomas is badly injured."

Being the closest, Kahlan rushed—staggered—to Emily's side, placing her hands on Thomas's chest and stomach. What she felt with the skeins was not good. The inventor's wound was mortal, and unless someone intervened he was going to die. Kahlan wove the skeins together, uniting them inside Thomas's injured body, but to no avail. She could move the skeins, but she couldn't transform them to her magicks. The residual shock she was feeling was blocking her from performing magick properly.

"Xan, get over here!"

The summoner hurried over, already trying to work the skeins together. Kahlan could feel it working right away, and couldn't fight off a pang of jealousy. Thomas took in great gulp of air, struggling to remain conscious. He could feel again. The problem was that all he could feel was pain. A hand went to the hole in his chest, but Emily brushed it away, opening his shirt to wrap the bandage around him.

"It's not much," Xan informed them. "He'll need a chirurgeon or a more skilled healer soon, but he'll live for now."

"Thanks," Thomas coughed out. "I owe you."

Kraytor took Oan's words to heart, needing no further urging to try and find their foe, he drew the skeins to himself, drawing an anchor between his core and the place where the fulgromancer had departed. Something was wrong. As soon as he tried to follow any of those skeins, to force his way through the portal, they collapsed. Loess, the old man had called it. Here he was seeing it happen before his very eyes—or with his magesense at the least. Apparently the fulgromancer knew to cover his tracks well, a fact caused the anger to rise sharply within the massive shaman. He growled in frustration, and there was a minor explosion somewhere overhead, sending dust raining from the ceiling around him.

"Let me try," Kjellson said quietly, placing a hand on the shaman's shoulder. Kraytor merely grunted his assent. This new mage might be more powerful than him, but he hadn't earned the shaman's respect yet.

Kjellson started by grabbing the chalk once again, drawing a double-ringed circle around himself, transcribing various symbols inside the ring. Around this circle he sketched a rough map of Hygar. Into each section of the map he placed a magestone. Then he sat in the centre of the circle, legs crossed, hands on his knees, palms up. His breathing slowed and his presence seemed to shift. Suddenly all the magestones were glowing. A pale white light, flickering and fitful, but it was there. Around those lights the other mages in the room could feel the skeins building a very different map of Hygar.

One at a time each of the stones glowed brighter, bright enough cast sharply defined shadows across the chalk map, then went dark. This went on for several minutes. When the last magestone had grown dark, Kjellson took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"I have found three fulgromancers within the city. One is currently in a room in the Great Halls. One is at the Academy. The last one is in the Hollow. I managed to catch a word or a name. Does "Sanna" have any significance to you?"

Spoiler: Health (click to show/hide)

Online Roleplaying / Re: Enter, The Darkness [OOC/Sign-up thread]
« on: April 04, 2014, 09:31:25 PM »
Well, that's probably going to hurt my surgical skills a little. Is it possible to have that finger magically reattached? Also, I'm not entirely sure how I lost it in the first place. Which hand is it?
It was the little finger on your right hand.
And Tybalt has it right, the portal closed while your blade (and finger) were still in it. It was not taken as part of the ritual, it was just bad luck.

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