The Grey Dust

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Tower of Terror! 3rd floor.
Interacting with: Satilla, Fiendish Monstrous Centipede Large, Hooded Figure.

It seemed Satilla was still out of it. And Thomas was not the best person to resuscitate anyone given his track record. That said, laying down Satilla by the stairs in a relatively safe location was his best course of option, and letting her come to on her own as he should probably join the fray at last. Propping up the girl to sit at a level of steps just a half turn from the top, making sure her body was leaning towards the wall rather than gravity, the young sorcerer trudged onwards and upwards. The climb to the top was met with the witness of the cavalry, bodies stewn across as his team managed to fend off a good amount of enemies. Namely, it appeared to be a great amount of massive centipedes, of which Thomas would have to note to harvest their organic parts. That alchemy fellow might be interested in them, same with those boars from earlier.

Now with the majority of the enemies cleared, it was far easier for Thomas to get a clean view of the source of all their ire. That hooded enigma, mocking them all with his magicks most malefic. How much more could the necromancer churn out? Another army of undead with exploding deaths? Thomas was in no rush to find out, pointing at the ceiling just above the frames of the figure and the nearest centipede by him. Thomas' last daily spell, the magic in his blood surging as the last of the celestial light poured out into a pillar of glorious incandescence to illuminate the dastardly duo. Calling for the searing light of the noon sun inside the dark tower, the six foot round spotlight burned the gruesome twosome with wholesome light. The orange orbs of fairie fire glow of the wil-o-wisp's, motes of light which mirrored the cosmic plane, lingered there as a ward against movement outside of the sealed space, buying them perhaps some time until the minute was over.

Of course Thomas would also be slightly out of it for the next minute or so, shaking his head as a strong headache furrowed his brows and a dizzy daze made his check of his success quite possibly a dream. They were hit right? But definitely not out, not quite yet. But at least... At least now the others could figure out... Figure out that... That there were no... No wards around... Around the... The...

D&D 5e - High Seas and Tall Tales

Most unfortunate. He was just getting to enjoy their post-battle afterglow, when something ugly decided to rear its ugly rear. Pushed away from what was unknown, something not of the warlock's design as the creeping sensation tingled up Koan's unilateral upper extremity. Flailing wildly like a lesion of the contralateral subthalamic nucleus, something shifted in the dancer's mind to think this was all the umbramancer's doing. But before he could rebuff the blame, the caused made itself clear. Crawling from the frozen gauntlet, the trickster, bade his way into their corner. With a burning despite those fiery eyes focused on the impling, procuring purplish powersuits portraying petty plebeian playing proper patronage poorly. How dare that little devil insult his shadow-woven armor while conjuring up his own cheap threads. The little runt, had let nearly slipped the shadowed one's true name to the group. Of which a dead-eyed stare filled to the brim with murder raged against the vexing Dox.

"The little gnat..." A grumble of disdain. It was clear 'Sauron' knew the imp, and vice-versa. Creatures of darkness and vile natures after all, seemed to be rather active in the underworlds, there was a history no doubt between them. One which the warlock seemed unwilling to divulge in, as he quietly doffed and re-donned his shadow armor beneath the cloak. The strengthening shadows extending the length and width of his sword as well into a greater inky mass. A two-handed blade which was sunk back into the shadows which surrounded his ivory flesh. Fortunately it seemed Koan was left in the dark about the truth, for as long as the pest did not reveal the ruse, Noriam would be able to masquerade as 'Sauron' as he pleased.

---

Air? In a vast desert, a oasis was rare, in a vast ocean, a breath of fresh air was just that. It was quite possibly a trap, although breaching the surface was refreshing. The land was far steadier than the endless water, although walking on land for the first time in days was a bit strange. Though they now numbered seven, they had barely scraped out of the last fight, and going into the den would not be any easier. For now they had to fight together, as one cohesive unit, despite the rift of mistrust between them. The arrogant little floating meatball could continue to believe he was the greatest thing since sliced lembas, but the warlock needed to play along to see where this journey takes them. Imbibed by the light once more, perhaps this was the first step in the right direction to regain his absolution and earn his soul back from the dark pact.

"I'm curious as to what we will find on land. And if it bleeds..."
A brief pause as the tendrils of shadows conferred up the once vanished edge.

mechanics

Noriam Recasts Mage Armor and is now armored for another 8 hours.
---
Noriam votes for the land path, resummoning his pact blade as a greatsword.

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Spiral Staircase of Seven-thousand Steps! (The step count was grossly exagerated)
Interacting with: Satilla

How long could it possibly take to get up a single flight of stairs? Keystone had kindly entered the fray above, letting Thomas begin his ascent to join the rest of them, however the big bruiser was now replaced with something else that blocked the young sorcerer's path. Well true she was far more pleasant company, not that Keystone was bad but rather his malodorous rancorous emissions were certainly not missed, Thomas did have reason to be wide-eyed and bushy-tailed about Satilla's sudden appearance. The woodland witch had seemed to had what Thomas was currently experiencing, no not the cursed bad luck of having tumbled towards the boy from the top of the stairs, but rather fact that both had their undergarments exposed.

Cheeks turning a rosy red as any boy his age would at the sight, dumbstruck and staring a bit too long a gentleman ought to in a such a scenario. Clearly robes were not as concealing as they were advertised to be today, and at this point the party's wizardy types might as well be parading around in their linens and things. With the mix of stupefied serendipity and sated salaciousness, the surprised sorcerer suppressed the wild thoughts of a wanton youth and bent down to pick Satilla. Reverting the inverted robe edge and pulling down for modesty, Thomas had seen enough right? At least they were even now, she seen him in his whites, and now...

A shoulder underneath her arm to help prop the dizzied witch, while his right arm wrapped around to control her far shoulder in an awkward embrace. Oh the irony of having their healer down. Of course potions were a thing too but, their dwindling numbers did not bode well for this expedition and Thomas's uselessness would be gone after his expended spells. Maybe it was fortunate that lady luck had thrown Satilla at Thomas. "Hey Satilla, you okay?"

D&D 5e - Titan Hunters

"A pity the cowards fled. They will soon be back, and in greater numbers." Shaking his head as the old cleric approached the fallen owlbear. A curious creature, powerful in muscle as a bear, though bearing the feathered visages of an owl. Tutting to see the extend of the injuries, making short work the hybrid although it did get a few licks in against the Orc's wolf. At his age Kethan was far less a combatant and more of a mentor, his slow steps purposefully cadenced as he crossed the threshold from his perch. Wading into the afterglow of battle to inspect the damage done, whispering his incantations under his breath as the eye of Ioun grasped by his hand shimmered with a soft mesmer. A soothing light which oversaw the group, a beacon of hope the mend the wounds of those who bore them. A single tap of his cane to unleash another pulse of restorative magic. A shine of light from the symbolic eye to maximize the healing, hopefully the owlbear would be better now. Although the paladin took a good brunt of the burden too, he trusted that the holy warrior would live beyond a mere flesh wound. Even the rascal who had for some reason taken a higher vantage only to leap off like a fool no less could do with some alleviation of minor scrapes. But otherwise the party seemed all the better, with nary a scratch on the others.

With dry cough, or rather a series of three of them, Kethan felt his strength sapped. A falter of his hold as he hunched over, leaning on his staff to deal with the loss of power. He certainly was not as young as he used to be, and now the ravages of time grip his body so. The evening's rest was much required, but this bout of combat, the seconds it lasted was as much action as Kethan had seen in months. The others may have been more battle ready, but a bookkeeper like him was well into his retirement from adventuring. This was to be his final year no doubt, and he would need to seek a means to extend his mortality before it was over. There were still many books to collect, repair, catalogue, work to be done. "A brief respite for Sir Lakeltia and the Owlbear ought to do. Perhaps some tea as well for myself. We should see to our means of transport to Caelmarth. And it seems... Rethink our divisions if indeed this Krusk Character will threaten the safety of Mavros while we are away. Perhaps the warforged can stay behind to defend, and perhaps if he would be so inclined, our resident magecaster. They should be more than plenty for the cur with a bit of help from the guards..."

A small suggestion as Kethan calmly returned to his original place, having given his consul. " We should leave sooner than later to Caelmarth... It is better to curse the busy day, than fear the quiet night."

mechanics

Kethan casts Beacon of Hope lvl 3 action. Duration 1 minute Conc. Targets every ally.
Kethan then Casts Mass Cure Wounds lvl 6 action. Targets: Marcus, Divina, James- 4d8+6 heals = 38 hp healed to all three targets.

Oh My Gods!

@Lord Zee Currently not my post <_> Waiting for responses.

*washes hands like a Pilate*

Oh My Gods!

We need to have a frank discussion on the mechanics of @rush99999's character.

Since the God doesn't exist, do the actions of an non-existent entity actually manifest?
Or are they treated as nonsensical delusions and ignore them as if they were never there?

If the former, then essentially the character is untouchable since you cannot target that which does not exist and it can conjure anything by moving nothing away, giving it a power that is vastly superior to something such as producing flames (since the god can only produce flames, rather than simply moving nothing away to create flames). If the latter, then the character will have zero interactions with anyone.

So I think the god has to either exist and can be observed by certain people, rather than not existing in itself to avoid the obvious problems that will occur when dealing with the character should it simply wish to troll everyone by conjuring random things while completely not existing.

Oh My Gods!

@ScreenAcne @WanderingSpirit

I believe it is one of your turns :P

Oh My Gods!

@rush99999

I mean if your god does not exist, then there is no issue.
A non-existent cannot even act upon existence without first in itself existing.
Essentially I treat your god as if they are outside the reality of this roleplay.
Meaning that within the metaworld of the roleplay, the God is to be ignored since within the confines of the roleplay's world...
Such a character does not exist. However outside of that world, the god does exist as a character, since the character does exist, however the deity does not in the terms of the in-game world. That said, to remain in the interpretation of lore, anything your god does is basically meta OOC and contributes nothing to the plot in itself as known to the characters, but rather serves as commentary for the audience.

Oh My Gods!

@ScreenAcne

Do the gods even bleed?

Oh My Gods!

We could attack with surgical precision and target our suspected enemy with a specifically prepared and trained tactical strike team given years of intel and Ops suggesting they are hiding out in apartment 12b in Leningrad and will be in said apartment's bedroom at 1300 next sunday per his schedule...

Or alternatively, we can drop a shitload of bombs on the place since we know the enemy is around there somewhere.