LiLNasY

The Rise from the Ashes

Pacer’s rapid-fire calculation made my cheeks feel warm. Elena’s surprise at the low price only made the feeling worse. He had just referenced royalty, and here I was, the literal last prince, trying to barter down a price. I felt a surge of guilt, feeling like I was taking advantage of the generous Harengon.

"Are you certain about that price?" I asked, making sure my voice was firm and polite. "That is incredibly fair for two rooms and stabling five horses. We are very grateful for your kindness." I reached into my pouch of gold pieces. "If that is the case, we will pay you two full gold pieces instead, at least for tonight. Please consider the extra as payment for your generosity."

I handed the two gold pieces to Pacer, feeling much better about the transaction.

"Now, please tell us how to proceed with the horses. Our friends are waiting outside."

Di'Siveks: The Promethean Hound (A D&D 5E Game)

Man, I'm rolling terribly lol roleplayerguild.com/rolls/29695 only an 8

Di'Siveks: The Promethean Hound (A D&D 5E Game)

Can I roll anything to know if any of the events grandpa mentioned is significant and/or controversial?

Drowned Gods (D&D 5e)

You push the sickness down. You lock your knees. You straighten your back until it pops. You will not throw up. You are a god.

You walk down the hall with a stride that eats the distance. The crushing gravity tries to fold you in half. You ignore it. The nausea spins in your gut like a whirlpool. You ignore it. To the outside world you look terrifyingly calm. You look like a statue that has decided to take a walk.

The two Monitors turn. Their beady eyes go wide.

You know these two. They are Gurgle-Thump and Splosh-Krack. They are the biggest warriors in the tribe. They usually guard the nursery or the food stores. Seeing them here means this door is important. They know the sickness that lives in this hallway. They have seen strong hunters vomit just by standing too close.

But you? You walk through the pressure like it is a gentle breeze.

The sight breaks them. They drop their heavy stone clubs. The weapons hit the floor with a loud thud. The two massive Kuo-toa fall to their knees. The splash echoes in the dark hall. They bow their heads so low that their chins scrape the wet floor. They are shaking. Not from fear. But from pure and overwhelming awe.

Gurgle-Thump speaks first. His voice is deep. It sounds like two boulders grinding together underwater.

"Oh Great One!" he rumbles into the floor. "You walk the Heavy Path! You do not wobble! You do not heave! You are stronger than the bad air! How may this unworthy meat serve You?"

Splosh-Krack peeks up with one eye. He looks terrified but also confused. He wrings his large webbed hands together as he tries to block the door with his kneeling body.

"But Great Shoog... Big Shoog... Sir," he stammers. "This is the No-Go Door. High Priest Blibdoolpoolp was very strict. He gave us the Big Order. He said 'Do not let the God in.' He said 'If the Great Shoog comes here you must stop Him.'"

He glances nervously at the closed stone door and then back at you. He looks like he is trying to come up with a better reason but failing.

"He said if we let You in... he would be very upset," Splosh-Krack continues, his voice trembling. "He said he would hit us with the Punishment Eel. The one with the teeth. But... You are already here. And You look very determined. So we are very confused."

Drowned Gods (D&D 5e)

Leo has been rolling amazing in all his performance checks! He is inspired.

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

@Guardian Angel Haruki Can you give me a persuasion check?

Di'Siveks: The Promethean Hound (A D&D 5E Game)

I caught the glint of amusement in Lady Agnes’s eyes above her fan. I wasn't sure if she was entertained by the situation or my awkward performance, but as long as she played along, I was grateful.

Grandfather's words about the founders sparked a different kind of curiosity in me. Andraste and Durwith were living legends. It was hard to imagine them getting upset over a casual conversation, unless the topic was something truly sensitive.

"That is indeed very curious, Aldric," I said, forcing myself to use his first name as he asked. It felt strange on my tongue. "Do you remember what you were talking about right before they got upset? Was it a specific story, perhaps?"

Drowned Gods (D&D 5e)

Blibdoolpoolp bows so low his forehead smacks against the wet stone. He seems thrilled to have a new holy mission.

"As You command, Great One!" he croaks with wet enthusiasm. "We will seal his skin! We will keep the spirit inside! We will make him whole so You may judge him properly!"

He turns to the other Kuo-toa and begins barking orders for bandages made of kelp and poultices made of mud.

You feel a soft warmth in your mind. It is Nyphl. The flumph sends a wave of pure gratitude across your link. It feels like a deep sigh of relief. The floating creature drifts down toward the dying drow. Its tentacles begin to pulse with a gentle light. You know they will be busy for a while.

You turn and walk away.

You leave the noise of the throne room behind. You head toward the older, deeper part of the cathedral. The air here is different. It is stale and still. The wet slapping sounds of your followers fade away.

As you walk, the hallway changes. The stone is darker here. The carvings are sharper. And then you feel it.

It starts in your stomach. It is a sick, twisting feeling. You feel heavy. Your legs feel like lead. Each step is hard work. It is like the gravity in this hall is wrong. It pulls you down. It drags at your bones.

You feel nauseous. The world spins a little. You have to put a hand on the wall to steady yourself. The stone is cold and wet under your palm. The air feels thick and oily. It presses against your skin. You feel like you might throw up.

The sickness tries to push you back. But something else pulls you forward. It is a dark call. It comes from the deep.

You look down the long hall.

There is a door at the end. It is large and dark.

Two Kuo-toa stand in front of it. They are not like the others. They are huge. They have thick muscles and scarred scales. They are Monitors. They look strong. They hold heavy stone clubs in their hands. They stand perfectly still. They guard the forbidden door. They have not seen you yet.

Where Wishes Fall (D&D 5e)

Miller keeps a serious face. He picks up the two gold coins from the counter. He looks at Garrek and then at you. He nods a little. He seems to like that you picked the strong clothes.

"Good choice," he says in a low voice. "It is smart to be prepared. My clothes will not fail you."

He turns to the shelves. He pulls down a bundle of dark wool cloth and a pair of strong boots. He puts the folded clothes on the counter.

He slides the package to you. Your eyes look past him. You look toward the door that leads to the back room.

You see it again. It is the same dark shadow you saw on the roof. This time it is closer. It stands just inside the dark hallway.

This time the shadow has eyes.

Two bright yellow eyes look right at you. They stare at you for one second. It is a quiet and scary moment. Then the shadow vanishes back into the dark room.

---

Miller does not notice anything. He keeps his hand on the clothes. "Here you go, Miss. Tell me if the boots do not fit."

Garrek looks at a stack of belts nearby. "Do you need a belt, Kalila? You will need a place to put all that gold you earn."

The Rise from the Ashes

I watched Meli walk off with Garrick, feeling a slight ease knowing the horses would be tended to. I turned to the inn, taking a long moment to observe the area before we stepped inside.

The two guards at the nearby post looked relaxed, dressed in simple leathers and furs. The general atmosphere was calm; people were closing up shop and heading home. I saw no one glancing over their shoulders, and no signs of the Windpikes' sleek, predatory nature. That was a relief.

Elena and Isolde moved with me to the entrance of the "Moon Rabbit’s Respite." As we stepped inside, the warm smell of apple cider and baked goods washed over us. The sound of music and friendly chatter filled the room.

Behind the bar, a quick-moving Harengon, Pacer, was already cleaning glasses and serving drinks at a frantic pace. He looked up, spotting us, and his greeting came out in a single rush of words.

I stepped forward, keeping my voice clear and steady to cut through the din.

"We need room for five people," I said, speaking slowly and clearly. "And we have five horses that need to be stabled for the night." I paused, ensuring Pacer processed the request. "What is the total price for the room and stabling the five horses?"