Guardian Angel Haruki
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KuroYes, it will definitely help! If you can also give me a Nature or Survival Check!
LiLNasY Member
STATUS: Back from romantic getaway! Working on replies! 7 mos agoStatus
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7 mos ago
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Back from romantic getaway! Working on replies!
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7 mos ago
Romantic weekend with boyfriend, no replies. Sorry friends
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The bandit I hit staggered but stayed on his feet, yelling about bites and pups. Behind him, I heard Meli cry out again, heard another bandit curse as her magic found its mark.
Then the idiot in front of me started twirling his scimitar, going on about some "Greatest King's sword fighting technique."
He charged. His own sword's pommel smacked him in the face. He tripped over a rock. And then he was down, face first in the dirt, not moving.
I almost would have laughed if the situation wasn't so desperate.
Then pain exploded in my chest. A crossbow bolt punched through my armor, right where my heart should be. The impact drove the air from my lungs. For a second, everything went white.
But I was still standing. Still breathing. The draconic blood in my veins surged hot, pushing back against the pain, knitting flesh and stopping the bleeding almost as fast as it started.
I pulled in a deep breath and ran. The crossbowman was already reloading, but I wasn't giving him the chance. My boots pounded against the earth as I closed the distance.
"Meli! Get away from them if you can!" I shouted.
My longsword came down hard, aimed right at the bastard who'd just tried to put a bolt through my heart.
Then the idiot in front of me started twirling his scimitar, going on about some "Greatest King's sword fighting technique."
He charged. His own sword's pommel smacked him in the face. He tripped over a rock. And then he was down, face first in the dirt, not moving.
I almost would have laughed if the situation wasn't so desperate.
Then pain exploded in my chest. A crossbow bolt punched through my armor, right where my heart should be. The impact drove the air from my lungs. For a second, everything went white.
But I was still standing. Still breathing. The draconic blood in my veins surged hot, pushing back against the pain, knitting flesh and stopping the bleeding almost as fast as it started.
I pulled in a deep breath and ran. The crossbowman was already reloading, but I wasn't giving him the chance. My boots pounded against the earth as I closed the distance.
"Meli! Get away from them if you can!" I shouted.
My longsword came down hard, aimed right at the bastard who'd just tried to put a bolt through my heart.
Gerta leads you up the stairs, her heavy footsteps surprisingly quiet despite her size. On the second floor, you notice a couple of people standing guard in the hallway. Gerta leans in close and whispers, "I always keep my tenants' security in mind, darlin'."
She guides you past the doors where paying patrons sleep, their rooms silent behind closed doors. Then up another flight to the third floor, into a more internal area of the building.
"This here's for me and the help," Gerta explains softly.
She opens a door to reveal a small room. There's a nice bed, which immediately catches your exhausted attention, but the rest of the space is cluttered with cleaning supplies. Brooms lean against one corner, and old rags are piled near a bucket. The smell of damp cloth fills the air, musty and unpleasant.
"Tomorrow we can get all this mess cleared out if you're plannin' on stayin'," Gerta says apologetically. "A room like this would be way cheaper than the patron rooms anyhow. And if you can't pay for your stay, well, I've got plenty of work that needs doin'. But we don't need to discuss all that now. You just need to sleep."
She points back down the corridor. "That's my room right there. If anything happens, anything at all, you come knock on my door and call for me. You hear?"
You nod, grateful beyond words.
Gerta gives you one last warm smile before closing the door softly behind her.
You're alone. Finally alone.
The bed calls to you, and despite the smell of damp rags, you collapse onto it. Your body sinks into the mattress, and exhaustion crashes over you like a wave.
Sleep takes you almost instantly.
At first, there is only darkness. Warm, endless darkness that feels like floating in deep water.
Then the stars appear.
Not above you. Around you. Thousands of pinpricks of light surrounding you on all sides, as if you've been placed in the center of the night sky itself. They pulse gently, breathing with a rhythm that matches your heartbeat.
One star grows brighter than the others. Larger. It descends toward you, or perhaps you rise toward it. The light doesn't hurt your eyes. Instead, it feels curious, examining you.
The star shifts. Its light ripples and changes, becoming something else. Smoke. Blue-gray smoke that coils and dances in the void, forming shapes that almost make sense before dissolving again.
A voice speaks, though you can't tell if you're hearing it with your ears or feeling it resonate through your bones.
"Three wishes, freely given. Three gifts, freely taken."
The smoke forms the shape of hands, cupped together as if holding water. Then the hands open, and liquid fire pours out, the same sensation you felt coursing through your veins when you woke in the alley.
"Distance. Truth. Power."
The smoke shifts again, becoming the outline of your mother's face, cold and distant. Then Leila's face, somewhere far away, looking over her shoulder as if hearing someone call her name. Then your own face, eyes wide with newly awakened magic.
"All things have a price. All debts must be paid."
The smoke coalesces into a single point of brilliant blue light directly in front of you. It pulses once, twice, three times.
"When I call, you will answer."
The light explodes outward, filling everything, and you feel yourself falling, falling, falling through stars and smoke and..
You jolt awake, gasping, your body drenched in sweat. Your heart hammers in your chest.
Your hand is clutching something tightly against your chest. A bottle. You don't remember having it before you fell asleep.
Someone's pounding on your door.
"Kalila! You awake in there, sugar?" Gerta's voice, loud and cheerful despite the hour.
You sit up, disoriented, your mind still tangled in the dream. The room smells of damp rags. The bed beneath you is unfamiliar. For a moment, you don't remember where you are.
Then it all comes rushing back. Thornwood. The Panther's Rest. Six hundred miles from home.
You stumble to the small window and look out. The third floor gives you a view over some of the neighboring buildings, but the sky is still dark. No hint of dawn yet.
"Come on, honey! Time for breakfast with the rest of the team before we start settin' up for the day!" Gerta calls through the door. "Can't have the patrons starvin' when they wake up!"
What do you do?
She guides you past the doors where paying patrons sleep, their rooms silent behind closed doors. Then up another flight to the third floor, into a more internal area of the building.
"This here's for me and the help," Gerta explains softly.
She opens a door to reveal a small room. There's a nice bed, which immediately catches your exhausted attention, but the rest of the space is cluttered with cleaning supplies. Brooms lean against one corner, and old rags are piled near a bucket. The smell of damp cloth fills the air, musty and unpleasant.
"Tomorrow we can get all this mess cleared out if you're plannin' on stayin'," Gerta says apologetically. "A room like this would be way cheaper than the patron rooms anyhow. And if you can't pay for your stay, well, I've got plenty of work that needs doin'. But we don't need to discuss all that now. You just need to sleep."
She points back down the corridor. "That's my room right there. If anything happens, anything at all, you come knock on my door and call for me. You hear?"
You nod, grateful beyond words.
Gerta gives you one last warm smile before closing the door softly behind her.
You're alone. Finally alone.
The bed calls to you, and despite the smell of damp rags, you collapse onto it. Your body sinks into the mattress, and exhaustion crashes over you like a wave.
Sleep takes you almost instantly.
At first, there is only darkness. Warm, endless darkness that feels like floating in deep water.
Then the stars appear.
Not above you. Around you. Thousands of pinpricks of light surrounding you on all sides, as if you've been placed in the center of the night sky itself. They pulse gently, breathing with a rhythm that matches your heartbeat.
One star grows brighter than the others. Larger. It descends toward you, or perhaps you rise toward it. The light doesn't hurt your eyes. Instead, it feels curious, examining you.
The star shifts. Its light ripples and changes, becoming something else. Smoke. Blue-gray smoke that coils and dances in the void, forming shapes that almost make sense before dissolving again.
A voice speaks, though you can't tell if you're hearing it with your ears or feeling it resonate through your bones.
"Three wishes, freely given. Three gifts, freely taken."
The smoke forms the shape of hands, cupped together as if holding water. Then the hands open, and liquid fire pours out, the same sensation you felt coursing through your veins when you woke in the alley.
"Distance. Truth. Power."
The smoke shifts again, becoming the outline of your mother's face, cold and distant. Then Leila's face, somewhere far away, looking over her shoulder as if hearing someone call her name. Then your own face, eyes wide with newly awakened magic.
"All things have a price. All debts must be paid."
The smoke coalesces into a single point of brilliant blue light directly in front of you. It pulses once, twice, three times.
"When I call, you will answer."
The light explodes outward, filling everything, and you feel yourself falling, falling, falling through stars and smoke and..
You jolt awake, gasping, your body drenched in sweat. Your heart hammers in your chest.
Your hand is clutching something tightly against your chest. A bottle. You don't remember having it before you fell asleep.
BANG BANG BANG!
Someone's pounding on your door.
"Kalila! You awake in there, sugar?" Gerta's voice, loud and cheerful despite the hour.
You sit up, disoriented, your mind still tangled in the dream. The room smells of damp rags. The bed beneath you is unfamiliar. For a moment, you don't remember where you are.
Then it all comes rushing back. Thornwood. The Panther's Rest. Six hundred miles from home.
You stumble to the small window and look out. The third floor gives you a view over some of the neighboring buildings, but the sky is still dark. No hint of dawn yet.
"Come on, honey! Time for breakfast with the rest of the team before we start settin' up for the day!" Gerta calls through the door. "Can't have the patrons starvin' when they wake up!"
What do you do?
Blibdoolpoolp rises. His movements are stiff. He turns and begins walking toward one of the cathedral's side passages. You follow. The crab is still in your hands. Nyphl drifts beside you. A soft purple glow in the dimness.
The high priest leads you through halls you know well by now. The graceful arches stretch overhead. Their Elvish carvings are worn smooth by time and water. Your footsteps echo against old stone. The kuo-toa's webbed feet make wet slapping sounds.
You pass through what was once a grand entrance hall. The ceiling is high above. Lost in shadow. Columns line the walls. Each one is carved with script you can almost read. Almost. But not quite. The letters swim before your eyes when you try to focus on them.
Then the building changes.
The elegant drow stonework gives way to rough tunnel walls. These passages are new. Crude. The kuo-toa have been busy. Very busy. You notice support beams made from old wood. Tool marks scar the stone. The air grows damper. Colder.
Leo had never actually told them to start mining. He is certain of that. He had simply mentioned once that the deep places often held treasures. And the kuo-toa had taken those words and built an entire digging operation around them. They always did this. Always took his smallest comments and made them into grand missions.
It would be funny if it were not so unsettling.
The tunnel slopes down. Water begins to pool on the floor. First just puddles. Then shallow streams. Then ankle deep. The sound of dripping echoes from everywhere.
Blibdoolpoolp does not slow. He wades through the water with ease. You follow more carefully. The stone beneath is slippery. Uneven.
"Not far now, Great One," the high priest croaks over his shoulder. "Just ahead. You will see. You will see what Your wisdom has brought us."
The tunnel opens suddenly into a cavern.
You stop.
The sight before you is stunning.
The cavern is large. Perhaps thirty feet across. The ceiling is low. Barely ten feet overhead. Stalactites hang down like teeth. But you barely notice these details.
Because the stones are there.
They sit in the far corner of the cavern where the water is shallowest. A dozen of them. Maybe more. Each one is perfectly round. Or nearly so. Crystal orbs that catch and hold the faint light from Nyphl's glow.
They are indeed as large as a kuo-toa's head.
The surface of each stone is smooth. Perfect. You can see no cracks. No flaws. Just pure crystal that seems to glow from within. That glow shifts as you watch. Blue. Then green. Then back to blue. Soft colors that swirl beneath the surface like oil on water.
They are beautiful.
They look valuable.
The crab in your hands shifts. Its legs click against your palms. The sound seems very loud in the sudden silence.
Blibdoolpoolp spreads his arms wide. "Behold!" he croaks. "The treasures You led us to! The gifts of the deep! The Mother of Pearl's blessing made real!"
His voice echoes off the cavern walls. The sound bounces back strange. Wrong.
You take a step closer. The water around your feet ripples.
Nyphl's glow flickers. Just once. But enough that you notice.
"Are they not magnificent, Great SHOOGBIMBHALD?" Blibdoolpoolp asks. His bulging eyes gleam with pride. "Shall we begin harvesting them for Your glory?"
The crab in your hands goes very still.
What does SHOOGBIMBHALD do?
The high priest leads you through halls you know well by now. The graceful arches stretch overhead. Their Elvish carvings are worn smooth by time and water. Your footsteps echo against old stone. The kuo-toa's webbed feet make wet slapping sounds.
You pass through what was once a grand entrance hall. The ceiling is high above. Lost in shadow. Columns line the walls. Each one is carved with script you can almost read. Almost. But not quite. The letters swim before your eyes when you try to focus on them.
Then the building changes.
The elegant drow stonework gives way to rough tunnel walls. These passages are new. Crude. The kuo-toa have been busy. Very busy. You notice support beams made from old wood. Tool marks scar the stone. The air grows damper. Colder.
Leo had never actually told them to start mining. He is certain of that. He had simply mentioned once that the deep places often held treasures. And the kuo-toa had taken those words and built an entire digging operation around them. They always did this. Always took his smallest comments and made them into grand missions.
It would be funny if it were not so unsettling.
The tunnel slopes down. Water begins to pool on the floor. First just puddles. Then shallow streams. Then ankle deep. The sound of dripping echoes from everywhere.
Blibdoolpoolp does not slow. He wades through the water with ease. You follow more carefully. The stone beneath is slippery. Uneven.
"Not far now, Great One," the high priest croaks over his shoulder. "Just ahead. You will see. You will see what Your wisdom has brought us."
The tunnel opens suddenly into a cavern.
You stop.
The sight before you is stunning.
The cavern is large. Perhaps thirty feet across. The ceiling is low. Barely ten feet overhead. Stalactites hang down like teeth. But you barely notice these details.
Because the stones are there.
They sit in the far corner of the cavern where the water is shallowest. A dozen of them. Maybe more. Each one is perfectly round. Or nearly so. Crystal orbs that catch and hold the faint light from Nyphl's glow.
They are indeed as large as a kuo-toa's head.
The surface of each stone is smooth. Perfect. You can see no cracks. No flaws. Just pure crystal that seems to glow from within. That glow shifts as you watch. Blue. Then green. Then back to blue. Soft colors that swirl beneath the surface like oil on water.
They are beautiful.
They look valuable.
The crab in your hands shifts. Its legs click against your palms. The sound seems very loud in the sudden silence.
Blibdoolpoolp spreads his arms wide. "Behold!" he croaks. "The treasures You led us to! The gifts of the deep! The Mother of Pearl's blessing made real!"
His voice echoes off the cavern walls. The sound bounces back strange. Wrong.
You take a step closer. The water around your feet ripples.
Nyphl's glow flickers. Just once. But enough that you notice.
"Are they not magnificent, Great SHOOGBIMBHALD?" Blibdoolpoolp asks. His bulging eyes gleam with pride. "Shall we begin harvesting them for Your glory?"
The crab in your hands goes very still.
What does SHOOGBIMBHALD do?
Meli's scream cut through everything. "CAD!"
The bandit in front of me was grinning, thinking he could hold me here while his friends dragged her away. Thinking this was some kind of game.
He was wrong.
His blade bounced off my shield. My turn.
I brought my longsword around in a hard arc, putting all my weight and the strength of my draconic arm behind it. The blade sang through the air, aimed right at him.
The bandit in front of me was grinning, thinking he could hold me here while his friends dragged her away. Thinking this was some kind of game.
He was wrong.
His blade bounced off my shield. My turn.
I brought my longsword around in a hard arc, putting all my weight and the strength of my draconic arm behind it. The blade sang through the air, aimed right at him.
Gerta waves a hand dismissively at your apology about the scissors, her expression softening.
"Don't you worry none about that, sugar. We all get a little jumpy sometimes." She glances past you into the room, then back to your face. "I hope your time with Miss Thornwick went alright?"
Before you can answer fully, she continues, her tone warm and matter-of-fact.
"Listen, honey, you don't need to explain much right now. You look dead on your feet. I'll get you a room for the night, somethin' comfortable where you can rest proper. In the mornin', we can sit down and talk about what's goin' on, what you need help with. Sound good?"
She starts to pull the door closed behind you, ready to lead you toward the stairs.
But just before the door clicks shut, you catch it. Gerta's eyes flick toward the exact spot where you saw the cloth moving. Her gaze lingers there for just a heartbeat, her expression unreadable.
Then she turns back to you with that same warm smile.
"Come on now, let's get you settled."
What do you do?
"Don't you worry none about that, sugar. We all get a little jumpy sometimes." She glances past you into the room, then back to your face. "I hope your time with Miss Thornwick went alright?"
Before you can answer fully, she continues, her tone warm and matter-of-fact.
"Listen, honey, you don't need to explain much right now. You look dead on your feet. I'll get you a room for the night, somethin' comfortable where you can rest proper. In the mornin', we can sit down and talk about what's goin' on, what you need help with. Sound good?"
She starts to pull the door closed behind you, ready to lead you toward the stairs.
But just before the door clicks shut, you catch it. Gerta's eyes flick toward the exact spot where you saw the cloth moving. Her gaze lingers there for just a heartbeat, her expression unreadable.
Then she turns back to you with that same warm smile.
"Come on now, let's get you settled."
What do you do?
Thank you for the clarification! Edit done :D
Okay, just to confirm. They were 20ft in height + 30ft in horizontal distance and now moved an additional 15ft?
Your eyes lock onto that moving cloth, and every instinct screams at you to move.
You stand slowly, your gaze sweeping the room for anything you could use to defend yourself. There, on the low table near the desk, a pair of decorative copper scissors catch the lamplight. They're ornate, probably meant for cutting parchment or thread, but they'll have to do.
You snatch them up, your sweaty palm closing around the cool metal. Your hands are shaking.
Keeping your eyes on the hanging fabric, you begin backing toward the door. Slowly. Carefully. Each step feels too loud, your breathing too harsh in the quiet room.
The cloth shifts again.
And then you feel it. Or rather, you don't feel it. That liquid fire coursing through your veins, that new awareness of magic you've never had before, it tells you nothing. There's no arcane resonance coming from that cloth, no spell at work, at least from what you can tell. It seems to be moving because actual air is pushing it. A draft. A breeze from somewhere.
But there are no windows.
Your free hand reaches behind you, fumbling for the doorknob. Your palm is so slick with sweat it almost slips, but you manage to turn it.
The door swings open and you practically stumble backward into...
"Whoa there!"
Gerta catches you by the shoulders, steadying you. Her eyes widen as she takes in your expression, the scissors clutched in your white-knuckled grip.
"Oh honey, is everything okay? You look paler than milk in a snowstorm!"
What do you do?
You stand slowly, your gaze sweeping the room for anything you could use to defend yourself. There, on the low table near the desk, a pair of decorative copper scissors catch the lamplight. They're ornate, probably meant for cutting parchment or thread, but they'll have to do.
You snatch them up, your sweaty palm closing around the cool metal. Your hands are shaking.
Keeping your eyes on the hanging fabric, you begin backing toward the door. Slowly. Carefully. Each step feels too loud, your breathing too harsh in the quiet room.
The cloth shifts again.
And then you feel it. Or rather, you don't feel it. That liquid fire coursing through your veins, that new awareness of magic you've never had before, it tells you nothing. There's no arcane resonance coming from that cloth, no spell at work, at least from what you can tell. It seems to be moving because actual air is pushing it. A draft. A breeze from somewhere.
But there are no windows.
Your free hand reaches behind you, fumbling for the doorknob. Your palm is so slick with sweat it almost slips, but you manage to turn it.
The door swings open and you practically stumble backward into...
"Whoa there!"
Gerta catches you by the shoulders, steadying you. Her eyes widen as she takes in your expression, the scissors clutched in your white-knuckled grip.
"Oh honey, is everything okay? You look paler than milk in a snowstorm!"
What do you do?
Hey, what about your ruling on equiping the shield? Is it a free action or a full action?
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