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Post by Ossular on Mar 17, 2019 2:38:30 GMT
The rumor that a man with orange eyes would appear in the middle of the Court of the White Bull on the fifteen day of the month was true. This had been the second month, with this man causing enough commotion that the rumor mill surged after the various adventurers had made it back from their respective quests, and several more rumors about the people that didn't make it back alive sprung up as well. This month, more of the City Guard had been stationed around the area, but by the time the rain cleared up and the fog had begun to roll out back to the sea, the man was there, standing in the middle of the courtyard.
The man stood a couple inches over six feet tall. Worn black hair with a streak of gray shooting down one strand of hair was combed backwards. A black cloak with a clasp of adamantine, etched with mithril hung over an adventurer's frame lined with leather armor, heavy boots and thick clothing, but for the amount it had been raining, the man remained perfectly dry. A layer of scruffy beard lined his jawline, and his eyes were locked onto a pompous, self-important nobleman that stood before him. The nobleman, surrounded by a small army of mercenaries, tough men (and women) and brute muscle, stood confidently, but the man with the orange eyes saw past the facade, past the projected image, the polished armor, the weapon that had rarely been unsheathed, and looked into his past deeds.
His orange eyes saw a spoiled brat who had others do his work while he took the credit. He saw a boy, pretending to be a hero, a warrior, but behind closed doors would torture, would bribe, would throw gold at his problems until they were no longer his problems. He saw a child that was wasting an inheritance that wasn't technically his while his father, an actual warrior and hero, was bed-ridden.
"No," the man with the orange eyes spoke, coldly.
The noble's eyebrow would twitch. "Excuse me?"
"I said no," his fiery eyes narrowed. "I have nothing for you. Him, maybe-" a finger was lifted to a mercenary, a dwarf in a breastplate with a majestic braid, then moved over to another, a half-orc woman dressed in wizardly robes- "her as well. And him-" the finger then moved, to a Goliath with a holy symbol around his neck. "But I have nothing to offer you."
"Preposterous!" The noble would get into his face angry. The man didn't move. "Do you know who I am?!"
"You are someone who is wasting my time," he kept the same blunt tone, looking down at the noble. "Go be a childish fop elsewhere."
"...No," the nobleman would leer toward him. "I'm going to stand right here, and you can't do a damn thing about it, you white-livered rank spoon."
The man with the eyes of fire would look at the noble, inhaling, then exhaling before looking into his eyes. "Leave. Now."
And like that? The nobleman's eyes went wide. The noble's posture decayed, his body starting quivering, and he started to shake uncontrollably, Tears started to run down his face, and as he quickly turned and ran back through the small crowd of people that had gathered when several groups left throughout the day, A couple people laughed at him, and some of the mercenaries that he had gathered looked at each other and shrugged, deciding to not follow and instead become part of the crowd here.
The man with the orange eyes would pat himself off, take a breath, and turn his head to either side, moving his arms before resuming his stoic guard in the middle of the plaza, waiting for the next adventurers brave enough to step up for a monster hunt.
[OoC Note: This thread is for Gigi and Arioch. Please approach the situation how you see fit.]
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109 
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Post by Gigi on Mar 17, 2019 3:28:28 GMT
They'd heard the rumors last month, of a man with orange eyes and the uncanny ability to look towards you and judge you worth or not from just his gaze. Several of the Little Bird's outlaw group had stepped forward and been denied - and since then? It became a new game. A… hazing ritual as it were… The youngest in age thought it was neat! Monster hunting! Amazing! The older in age immediately closed ranks around the fledglings and got Momma to implement a rule - no one under the age of 15 was allowed to approach the orange eyed man. Those just past the new age rule had been conniving and planning how to get sent on a monster hunt first thing next day 15. Anyone well older had no wish to interfere with their own duties and responsibilities towards the Birds. Even still it was all most everyone was talking about. Message spells were being traded back and forth so rapidly and often it could practically be sensed by others in the mind web.
And Gigi?
She thought it was stupid as hell. What kind of impulsive immature individual would want to actively go monster hunting? It was a recipe for disaster and unneeded injury.
So, of course it was her to what sent to go with the pack of 15 and 16 year olds, barely enough experience to use, let alone possess any weapon. Grumpy, arms crossed, pink hair covering part of her face, leather jacket freshly repaired and gleaming in the bit of sunlight that happened to cascade down on her, and cargo pant rips and tears stitched together with a steady hand of mending. One thick booted foot was flat against the wall she was leaning on while the other was planted firmly in the dirt.
As the hour or so since they'd been here went on, more and more of the youngest Birds felt and experienced the dejection from the orange-eyed man. Some were bold enough to go up and get rejected personally (some even squealing just from the fact he looked and spoke to them) while others stayed around the edge of the market ring, content enough to be passively rejected when the orange eyed man didn't gesture to them to beckon them forward.
Gigi had only about twenty more minutes of required two hours of bird watching before she could call the small flock in and head home. One thing was certain though, this sure beat going out on a proper run. If she could claim this monthly task of bird watching as her run? She'd spend two hours leaning against a wall no problem.
A new 'contender' had gone up and been soundly dejected. Not many tried to convince him he was wrong so…. Foppishly, as this one did. She snorted in laughter herself as he ran away in tears. And before she knew it? It was time to head home. Scanning the space she spotted them… four, five, six, seven, eight…. It was with no level of amusement at the irony that she couldn't spot the ninth kid right away. A whistle between her two pinkie fingers had several young teens whistling back and making their way out. Again, only eight heads she noticed turn and head out.
Where the fuck was… her eyes widened, palm slapping to her forehead as she finally noticed her last charge. She was there, walking up behind the man, an excited look to her posture. Groaning she pushed off the wall and wove between the crowd to interject before the girl was utterly dejected and emotionally destroyed by the orange eyed man. She knew how bad rejection could sting after all.
Her metal hand fell heavy on the girl's shoulder, even though Gigi only had extra height on her from the fact she wore her heavy boots. "Annnnnnd, nope, it's time to go home Sam. Let's go. You can ask next month." She tugged her charge away from creeping up behind the man, moved her so Gigi was now in between Sam and him. Patting her shoulderblade in a forced sort of comfort she added, "None of us Birds are worthy or good enough of being sent on a mission, so don't feel bad kid. Give yourself hope one more month before he shatters it for you." Sad-frowning Sam turned her head down, then looked around Gigi to peak at the man before her eyes widened a bit and she took off away from the two adults into the alleyways to scamper home.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 17, 2019 5:32:50 GMT
Stories of a man that could judge you worthy? At first he thought this was some kind of ploy by the local military in order to try and recruit more folks. Then he thought it was some kind of sham. Of course, all of that was his learned cynism after having spent a few months in Waterdeep enough to know that most folks there did not really had it in them to be anything else other than meek. Those that did grew to be adventurers or people sought after for their ability to inflict their will (usually, violence) onto others. So what could this man offer him? Nothing he already didn' t have.
He didn't need a random stranger to tell him he was worthy, he alone was the judge of that. And he was worthy.
But was he tough? Was he worthy? He examined himself and the things he had done in the past few months and while certainly his past self would have been proud his present self, after having done them was... Not so certain. He wasn't satisfied. It didn't feel like something that had... substenance to him. It was thrilling. It was challenging. But it wasn't enough, it didn't yet have quite what he was looking for, but he felt he was making progress. What was about worthiness then that mattered so much? Was worthiness something inherent to one's birth, or it could be earned? Then, at what moment did worthiness generate in oneself, when did it become a thing?
Soon enough a crowd was gathered and he watched the man reject some of the prospects, while single handedly pointing out to those he would deem "worthy". Hardened people, by the looks of it. What would he made of him then, that hardly had the looks of a warrior? And now to top it all off his mask had been destroyed for good and there was no replacement in sight. There was no hiding his age.
To his suprise, none of the people who were singled out decided to try their luck. This baffled him.
Then a woman walked up to the man and Arioch... Arioch vaguely recognized her, he had seen her from somewhere. He squinted. Yes, the woman when he first came to Waterdeep, the woman with the metal arm and smoking strange herbs. Certainly he would never forget her and her questionable aesthetics. Internally, he was thankful it was not the norm in Waterdeep, and that it was more or less as far as he had seen kind of "her thing" so far. But then the realisation hit him. She was approaching him... And he was not? If she would do it before him, then what was his excuse? He had none, he took a good look at himself and walked up to him.
"I vant a challenge"
Arioch petitioned, not sure how people went about to communicating with the borderline urban-legend man. Was he really a man or some kind of spirit, though? He didn't quite heard what he had said to the pink haired woman, or the child. By the looks of it he realised too late she hadn't been approaching the man out of her own free will in order to partake, but to get a child away from him. Her's? Now he felt like a complete fool. But the truth of the matter remained. He had acted cowardly by standing idly and watching, when he should have acted sooner.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 17, 2019 5:51:37 GMT
For Gigi?
As she moved her ninth charge, Sam, away from the Man with the Orange Eyes, he would look over his shoulder, one of his eyes catching Gigi as she declared that none of the Birds were worthy. He didn't make any other movement at the moment as their eyes locked, and that was, apparently, all it took. Even as she moved away, she would still hear him, right at the same time as he turned back to see a young man approach him.
For Arioch?
The young barbarian had walked right up to the Man with the Orange Eyes. As his head craned back around and their eyes met for a moment, the man's stoic, gaunt expression would break out into a small smirk. Two different people that could work well together that had approached him? Sure, it was for different reasons, but there was something in common- they had willingly come toward him, where as every other person he had pointed out, most recently while speaking with the nobleman, had not. Most of those that had come forward this afternoon, though, weren't ready for his trials- yet, at least. For some, it would only prove that he was right in not choosing them. For others, it would drive them to better themselves, and then they would be ready for a trial.
He would speak, and even as Gigi rounded the corner, she would hear him, in her mind, as if he was standing right next to her, still looking over his shoulder at her. Also, the language would be in whatever language the two of them would understand the easiest. "I do have a challenge for you, if you are interested," the Man with the Orange Eyes all but purred. "It's right up your wheelhouse, too, Arioch. Georgina." The last word, Gigi's actual name, would be for her ears only. The young barbarian before him would have heard "Gigi" instead.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 17, 2019 6:05:40 GMT
Arioch nodded when the man referred to him by name, smiling just a bit in response to his own smirk. It didn't surprise him that he knew his name. He was undefeated in the arena, and had already unseated veteran favorites being the underdog and the newcomer. It had been a bit of a rite of passage for him but with the latest fights also started to come some manner of fame; his sponsor had introduced him to some rather wealthy people, nobles who followed the fights in the arena like some kind of sport. They had favorites. Some looked at him with a kind of hungry eyes, hidden behind veiled expressions of prudence and decor. Particularly some of the women. And with that kind of fame and modicum of money also came people that wanted to get into his good graces, from lower spheres.
"I'm in, then"
He replied with interest, already starting to feel the thrill of the fight slowly make it's way across his body. The thrill of the unknown, of the danger,.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 17, 2019 15:30:04 GMT
It hadn't lasted more than their eyes meeting, but for a split second she happened to catch a single turned profile eye of the Man with Orange Eyes. She didn't feel anything change, but something was changed at the same time. Pushing the teen's shoulder to get them both moving the healer and her ward slipped out of the clearing.
Only to stop abruptly with an ingrained wince at hearing her full name.
The next moment was a sharp turn around and growl - how the fuck did he know her name. She didn't use it. Ever. Hadn't used it in years. Only three people knew it. So who did this arsehole think he was to just saunter into her mind, smug as shit, and claim he had a challenge. The challenge wasn't whatever creature he thought she was passably able to go on, but to figure out how the fuck he knew her name.
"Get home, tell Pisscup I'll be out a bit more." She said to the teen, lighting up a cigarette. And with that? She walked back to the clearing where a boy was talking to him as well. Must have been the Ari… something she's heard in her head. Stupid sounding name, really. Ari. Psht. Who names their kid Ari?
Stepping up to the two she crossed her arms, cig now in between her fingers, a scowl on her face, "What. The fuck." She said as a welcome. She was still coming to terms with the fact that somehow he might or might not have seen something in her when their eyes crossed paths, but that was still second to the fact he'd known her name. She was interested, but not perhaps for any reason anyone else was interested in the star man.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 19, 2019 0:14:12 GMT
"Good," the Man with the Orange Eyes would respond to Arioch quietly, intensely. "What about you, Gigi?" he would turn his vision onto the woman with the pink hair and the metallic arm who had come up. "Would you be willing to do something for me?" Of course, he already knew the answer to that- questing and monster hunting wasn't why she was here. No, she had been here because she wanted something else. He had caught her attention with her actual name. He wouldn't address it yet. Instead, he would, as some of the people were putting it now in murmurs, look to the four winds. He would simply look to the skies above, turning his head in various directions before addressing the adventurers he had deemed worthy- the ones that stuck around, at least- to take his quests in the first place.
"In this realm of Faerun, there is an island to the south-west by the name of Chult, with an uncharted jungle. South of the Merchant Princes' domain of Port Nyanzaru, weeks into thick, sticky, humid jungles lies an old temple to a yuan-ti god known as Zehir. Days from the Lost City of Omu in the Lands of Ash and Smoke, an abomination grows, quietly- one of Zehir's many schemes to enter into Faerun within a physical manifestation that can channel the power of his serpentine God. The yuan-ti don't worship him anymore, pledging themselves to Dendar or Merrshaulk, but it would be problematic for the denizens of this realm to deal with another God entering the world. I ask you to kill this monster, though it will not be so simple.
"The temple, while old and forgotten, will certainly have guardians," the Man with the Orange Eyes would warn. "Yuan-Ti are known for their intelligence, their command over poisons and venoms of all kinds, and their demonic machinations. I would be careful as you make your way to this sleeping abomination. But, of course, you will be rewarded for your troubles," he would inform them. "Whatever you find of value in the temple will be yours to keep, as well as any trophies you may wish to bring back, as some adventures will tell you. I can also pay you for your service upon your return [OoC Note: This is the gold that you will earn via word count alongside experience from this adventure thread], as well as provide a single potion of healing," he would offer, despite not having a single potion strapped to him. He never actually gave a potion to people before sending them off, either. He would look, from Arioch, to Gigi, then back to Arioch, and finally back to Gigi.
"And for you, Gigi, I will answer three questions to the best of my abilities. Upon your successful return, of course," His lips would curl into a brief smile before flattening back out. "Do the two of you choose to accept my quest?" The Man with the Orange Eyes would ask, looking over Arioch and Gigi once more. "The two of you should be able to handle this task."
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 19, 2019 17:22:06 GMT
Arms still crossed the whole time the Man was talking, moving only here and there to allow a pull of her cigarette. She didn't care about riches, or trophies, or even a story to tell. And a potion? The thought of relying on such an apothecary created means of health had her scoffing, for reasons it would be hard to tell. What did finally catch her ear and attention though, was a reward of three questions to be answered.
She met his eyes as he looked between her and the kid, a quiet grumble growl of annoyance in her throat. Her heel started tapping lightly as she warred with herself over what to do. But in the end? Her curiosity one out. "Three questions? And you'll answer them." She tapped ash off her cig and kept it between her fingers. "Sure, fine. Whatever." She agreed with all the excitement of a wet cat. At least that was her attempt. Inside? She was dying to know how this man knew her name, as well as how in the world he thought 'her' to be worthy enough for a quest when so many other adventurers had been dismissed without a second consideration. It was only the agreement of getting answers that had her accepting the quest.
Gigi looked at the kid, he seemed… not familiar, but despite nothing or anyone coming to mind she couldn't help but have a feeling like they'd met. "Soooooo." She drawled out, thinking over the description of the 'foe' they were being thrown against. "You hit it, I keep you up an' at'em. Sound good?" Of course it wasn't much of a question, really. It's what she'd be doing regardless. "And listen close, you charge ahead? I'm not breaking a sweat to keep up. Keep your healer within your sights at all time and we'll work out fine." She spoke in the slow tone of someone speaking to someone else who they thought to be vastly unintelligent. She saw the sword on his back, saw how he led himself. He was one who fought, and fought often.
((Ossular, let me know if I can modify my spell list prior to going in, or if you'd like me to keep the standard daily spell list I have in Gigi's profile.))
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 21, 2019 14:07:18 GMT
Arioch listened intently to the man's description of the far corners of the world. However, the more he listened, the more he realised it did not fit at all with what he was expecting. He had been expecting for the task to be to slay a single monster or prove his worth in a somewhat clever manner if not. Slaying a god however sound a little out of his league. But of course the man knew that it would be difficult having to navigate a deadly temple filled with whatever a Yuan-ti was, and demonic machines and poison and venom. So, he offered a healing potion.
"Vhat?"
He said kind of blinking a bit as if he had missed out on some of the explanation. Gold sounded nice but god-slaying gold? Man that better be a lot because he wasn't sure the whole thing was worth-measuring or agenda-pushing and the man was just running around Waterdeep hiring the chepeast possible goons while not outright being bad.
"Vhat kind of payment are ve talking about here?"
It better be in the thousands, he thought, because surely such task would not be worth any less. He wanted to hear a number, with "thousand" at the end. He was holding off his final answer until he heard his response, glory was good and challenge was good, but this man clearly knew too much about what he was talking about. Was he the middleman for someone else? This was a contract at best, not some heroic-proving deed. And if it was so, he would like to get paid, but not in promises. He actually wanted to know the amount.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 21, 2019 15:55:33 GMT
To Gigi, the Man with the Orange Eyes would simply nod, though to Arioch, he would simply look over him. With a small chuckle, an upward curve of the lips, he would respond to the young barbarian. "An appropriate reward, I assure you," his voice was the same as it had been during his description.
The Man would bring a hand up to his neck, coughing to clear out his throat. It had been a moment since he had physically spoken, and the amount of adventurers that had approached him was... trying, to say the least. Either way, though, he had things that needed to be done, monsters that needed slaying and various results that had to be achieved. These adventurers were helping, so he could suffer through a sore throat a while longer, at least until the sun fell below the horizon.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 21, 2019 15:58:52 GMT
A number as all he needed to hear, so, he nodded in agreement.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 21, 2019 17:50:33 GMT
"In that case," The Man with the Orange Eyes would nod, turning from the two of them, "I assume you're ready." With that, he would turn, withdrawing his own black greatsword from under him. Flipping it, he would draw a quick series of runes across it with a piece of chalk he produced from somewhere. Taking a quick step away from them, the Man would curve the sword quickly in a circle in the air before slashing through it, the sword meeting the ground. With the sparks hitting the ground, the rift would crack open, moving reality from itself as the colors started to spin around themselves. It pulsed with a powerful energy, and the portal was complete, a distortion of light falling into darkness before them.
"I'd recommend holding your breath as you go through. It helps," the Man with the Orange Eyes would motion. He wouldn't wish them luck, confident in their abilities.
As the two of them entered through the portal, they would spend close to a moment, colors whirling around them in a wild, prismatic fashion. Energies of all kinds would weave and lead them, spiraling into a multi-rainbow kaleidoscope. Scents would change quickly from the crowds in the mid-day sun on the Sword Coast to a humid, sticky, wet summer heat. Chult pervaded quickly through their armors and beings, the air becoming heavy with the scents of ash and fire. As they moved, a white light over overpower their vision, growing larger and larger before it overtook their perceptions. From there, it would feel like they were flung in a direction, and the impression of flying would overtake their senses-
-before they would open their eyes and it would all be over. It was like waking up, eyes snapping open from unconsciousness to stare at the mid-day sun as if they were stranded on an island with no shade. They would already be sweating as they came to, taking their first steps like fawn as their senses adjusted. They would be facing a large set of mountains, and if they looked well enough or long enough for their vision to refocus, they would see each of the three peaks before them, marked by three columns of dark smoke, one rising from each peak. These were volcanoes.
Coming down the mountain to the ground level would bring their focus upon a temple, old and undisturbed for as long as they could tell. The ground wasn't dirt here and was, instead, a film of ash that various strands of overgrowth would be jutting out of. For as far as they could tell, there was just fields of ash and small amounts of shrubbery sprouting from the gray and black at their feet, but to the south they could see ocean, a handful of miles away from them but visible thanks to the reflection of the sun.
The temple itself was nothing more than an entrance made of stone pillars, rising up with Chultan totems rising up, sculpted faces sitting stacked six high. Some face different directions, and others are eroded and layered in the ash and rubble of the mountain they were carved into. The entrance, a hallway, fifteen feet tall and ten feet wide, going into the mountain further than Arioch's darkvision could perceive, at least from the entrance. All he'd be able to tell was that the entrance-way went into a room about fifty feet back before expanding outward, with some rubble here and there. A heavy stone sat on one side, with three broken bamboo shafts protruding from the wall behind the rock like spears. On the end of one of them was a skeleton, long since dead and passed, broken into pieces, not held together by magic.
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 22, 2019 4:27:30 GMT
Con save first, then will edit in the post o5VxhrTp1d20+3
Never one to turn away advice when it came from someone who knew what they were talking about, Gigi took a deep breath, held it, and stepped through the portal. She'd not seen magic like that before but it didn't prevent her from blindly walking in. Shit. Fuck. Damn. What it fuckin hot out. And she was stuck in her leather jacket. Squinting, raising her arm to block the sun she was suddenly staring at, Gigi took in her surroundings with a sour expression on her face. She better be getting in-depth answers for her questions when this was all said and done. Shrugging her shoulders and unzipping her jacket so at least some 'breeze' would manage to slip through so as to not suffocate her, Gigi ran a hand through her hair already not liking this extreme change of temperature. The heat was starting to make her sweat, and sweat irritated the metal plates that connected to her shoulder on the left side. She'd only been here for a short period of time and already her prosthetic felt heavy and very metal. "Let's go kid. Remember, keep your healer in your sights at all times. I'm not chasing after you if you skip ahead or fall behind." With that comforting speech of hello she began walking towards the temple she could spot in the distance. The ash kicked up under her feet - it would be hell to clean out her arm later when she got back, fuck. Standing there, at the edge of the stairwell going down, having designed to not speak much at all in the time it took them to walk from their point of arrival to here, Gigi took out a cigarette from a small pocket opening in her metal hand and lit the rolled cig with a flash of green fire. "So, how do we want to do this?" She gave him a once over. "You smash and lead the way while I follow not too far behind? I can offer you too, before we go in, a barrier against poison and disease. You'll become much more resilient to any poison damage as well. But I'll only cast if you agree. Work for you?" She didn't mention it, but she was rather unnerved by the design of the temple and the general feeling she got from the area around them. ((Gigi is offering to cast protection from poison on you, Arioch: Duration - 1 hour You touch a creature. If it is poisoned, you neutralize the poison. If more than one poison afflicts the target, you neutralize one poison that you know is present, or you neutralize one at random. For the duration, the target has advantage on saving throws against being poisoned, and it has resistance to poison damage Spell List:  |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 23, 2019 18:53:43 GMT
esBZnKLN1d20+5
"Vhat the fvuuuuck" Arioch said out loud when the man began to make his pantomime and then proceed to summon a portal right in the middle of Waterdeep. Were they supposed to jump through that, go through that? Wasn't that going to kill him if he did? It certainly looked that way. It was ridiculous. Just what in the hell. The man was for real, everything he had said about the godslaying quest and the rest it was for real. And in that moment Arioch realised he didn't quite believed the man when he had spouted all of that or he figured there would be time to prepare for it or travel with a caravan or something, instead there was a portal. It was real, everything. And it made it even more crazier.
He looked around him to see the crowd all looking at him. He said he was going to go. There was absolutely no way he could turn back now and go back on his word, even if he hadn't been thinking properly about everything that it entailed.
"Vhat? Vhy?"
He asked of the man, hold his breath? This was going to be hands down one of the weirdest experiences for Arioch yet. And while he was afraid that it was some kind of trap, that something would go wrong and kill him to turn back right then and there and to be a coward in front of everyone would kill him in that very moment and for the rest of the days to come. After a single bit of clarification, he would summon the courage to jump inside, charging through like he was about to meet another kind of enemy right after entering... But to his surprise it wasn't. There were colors instead, more colors than he could possibly name where swirling around them in a kaleidoscopic fashion. He was getting slightly dizzy from the intensity of the experience. The smells, the heat, everything was changing, and Arioch had already unsheathed his sword and was holding it with both hands.
It was just about the only thing that gave him some ammount of reassurance at the moment. When the white flash of light came over his eyes he let out a growl and readied himself to meet his enemy head on, blind if he must, even if the man had tricked him into a fight that was way over what he could take on he would go down swinging if that was the case. And then a sensation of vertigo, of flying, one which he tried to fight with all his concentration so as to not lose the center of weight in his body.
But instead of an enemy, it was mountains. A set of mountains standing before them, the obnoxious humid heat sticking to his body, three peaks with dark smoke. He had absolutely no clue what they were. Mountains on fire? That was some ominous thing. He felt out of his element, but he had his sword. He wasn't unnarmed. There was hope yet. He looked around and found that the girl was with him. At least he wasn't alone. That also provided some measure of hope to the task at hand. Though he wasn't really sure how much would the girl be able to pull her weight, it was still far better than to have no companion at all. He would give her the benefit of the doubt.
And then he saw the temple; old, just as ominous as the smoking mountains, covered in ash. Fields of ash and shrubbery. And enclosing all their space, water. Water as far as the eye could see. The ocean. No way out. His gaze turned back to the ominous temple in front of them, and noticed that the pillars were carved totems, eroded by times past. Far more effective than any "keep out" sign. He was starting to put things together when his companion talked. Immediately, he frowned, not amused.
"I'm not a kid." He retored, feeling the spark of anger "I am a man, and have killed for the right of being treated as such."
Stated, why was it that one every two people he met in the "fighter" category always insisted on placing themselves above him like that. One would think, at least if they were from Waterdeep and had a bit of knowledge about the arena, they would be more respectful towards someone that appearently split people appart with a greatsword weekly "for fun".
That said he let her go first and followed, though things would not be in that order inside. Not that he minded much if she got eaten by a giant snake god instead of him due to wanting to go first, but if what she was saying was true, and she was a healer as she had inferred then... It was in both of their best interest that she -not- be the target of whatever was waiting for them inside. And, on a side not, it was simply cowardly of a man to let a woman go on her own.
"It seems sensible. I have experience in fighting. If our enemies seem like something I can take on, then I vill and try to keep them avay from you. If I meet someone that manages to defeat me, then my advice for you is that you don't run. You'll only die tired."
He proposed forward
"I vould gladly accept such a boon. The man did say something about poison, and it vould be quite indignifying to survive overvhelming odds only to succumb to something as lovly as a treacherous device."
Should he accept then he would also accept her casting of the spell against poison. Instinctively, he was rather mistrusful about magic and spells, but given the circumstances he didn't believe that he would be far worse with the alternative. That said and after everything was said and done he would advance first into the temple, checking the rocks with due care and looking for traps. Poison was usually paired with such weapons, as they seldom needed much of a punch.1d20+5
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Gigi
Approved
5 Cleric of Graves
Posts: 109
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Post by Gigi on Mar 23, 2019 23:38:17 GMT
Hands glowing green as the tattoos all throughout her skin lit up with some sort of life giving sacred color, Gigi rested her metal hand on Arioch's shoulder and sent a pulse of protection through him. It was cheerful, vivid, bright, relaxing. Everything Gigi… wasn't.
She then did the same to herself.
"If you stay dropped it's because I’m dead first." She countered his remark on running, then gestured into the dark cave, metal hand lighting up in sacred green flame as a makeshift torch for herself. "After you, but be wary. The Orange Eyed man said this was Yuan-ti territory? Bastards the lot of them, sneaky. Keep a sharp eye out."
Gigi would be keeping a sharp eye out for anything that seemed to signal 'trap'. Pressure plates, dart holes. Slits for gas or poison to just out from. ((Passive 15 perception, let me know if other rolls are needed)). She stayed a pace or two behind Arioch regardless.
((Short post to officially cast Protection from Poison on both of us. It is not a concentration spell, it will last an hour regardless.))
Spell slots Used:
0/4 - level 1
2/2 - level 2 (no more lvl 2 slots open)
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