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Post by EloHim on Nov 4, 2018 12:27:36 GMT -8
"- By the Great Ones..."- Elorit whispered, watching the scene in horror. His first desire was to ease the man’s suffering by going there and putting a dagger through the head of the poor bastard, killing him. But that was only a thought… the body refused to act on it… His sense of self-preservation commanded him for that moment. Then a crunch of bones send mad shivers… unseen tremors throughout his body.
The disgust washed over him as a tortured man fell silent and a creature appeared... but at the same time, he marveled in the novelty of it all. He never seen anything like it,his past experiences paled in comparison... From a human life and suffering was birfed an inhuman one… Monstrous. Beautiful. Maddening. Its existence was a shining beacon that defied everything that was stable in alchemist’s mind. He wanted to run as far away from here as was humanly possible, and at the same time had almost insatiable desire to approach the creature, to see it clearer, to understand it… even if his mind would shatter in the process and naught be left but empty shell.
He felt the nudge in his back, something sharp...a dagger? A beak? Whatever it was, it forced him to slowly step forward, separating himself from the group. Maybe he prematurely went mad? Or maybe the Bird was prompting him to approach... Who knew, realy, what guided him at that moment? Slowly, gently... Elorit walked towards the feasting creature, minding everything in his surroundings, trying not to prompt any hostile action from creature surrounding the newborn. He moved, filled with dread, filled with respect. His mind searched the possible outcomes of his actions...with only one… ending in his favor.
His r'lyehian was that of a child, if looked at from the outside. He didn't have much time to practice it and only basic instructions from Nasuada… But, thanks to its similarity with language of the Steppe, he had enough to utter a singular sentence in forbidden language as he approached it… as he looked into the child’s many eyes.
“- C'vulgtmah mgepnah hupa ahornah ymg'nog ah throdoghnah l'shugnah.”
The rough translation of the tongue-breaking words to English would be:
“We praise/greet the newborn/arrival. May thy birth/coming be a blessing/gift to our/this land.”
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Post by Unter on Nov 23, 2018 13:10:31 GMT -8
By the gods.
Iver wasn't someone that believed in religion. In his life, it wasn't something that he needed to survive, or even to keep hope. In fact, he despised religion, and religious people in general. They were... soapy. The word felt weird, but it felt right at the same time.
But here... right now... He wanted to feel the hope that religion provided. His entire body trembled, but his eyes couldn't get away from the atrocity that came to place here. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. But one fear toppled all others. He didn't want to be discovered. He didn't want the... whatever did it to this poor man to find him, and to threaten Iver's own body and soul... Never.
He would slit his throat before this. Death was preferable to a fate like this.
This is why, when his mouth opened in horror, he clutched his jaw shut. He wouldn't scream. The sharp pain of his tongue being bit, and the bitter taste of iron of the blood that poured slowly in his mouth, were a relief. He was alive. What he saw didn't kill him right away. He was alive. He had hope. He could live. He could survive.
Slowly, gently, he started to back away. He was going to grab Elorit's arm to be sure that the man would follow him but... He was no longer there. Wha-why ? Confusion poured into Iver's mind. Where could this bloody man be ?!
The dread he felt before paled in comparison to the one he felt when he saw Elorit had stepped forward, and spoke to the thing. Was he mad ?! Twisted words came out of his mouth, just like when the cultists attacked the Hamlet and forced him into bizarre dreams.
No... NO ! Not Elorit. He would not let the man stay here, lulled here by his own folly. Iver had to do something. Surely Elorit was in some sort of... transe. He just needed to snap out of it.
The dwarf took a deep breath. It wasn't everyday that he was going to do that.
He needed to fight his deepest fear to save a man he had met hours ago. Just because he felt like it.
Gods watch his soul. He tried to approach Elorit as quietly and as quickly as he could, without getting detected by the thing. He kept a dagger in hand, in case of. He didn't even look at Isaac or Roard. They weren't relevant right now.
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Post by Kidney on Nov 25, 2018 13:10:54 GMT -8
It moved.
With bulging eyes, the infernal beast ahead of the dwarf and the alchemist looked, and upon bulging red tentacles the creature slithered and skittered. Its attention turned towards them, it's form rippled in reaction to the words of the man before it. It's bulbous newborn head shifted and its bone-white beak poked out from the void of red and purple that made up a mouth-cavity. It spoke, somehow, the strange thing uttered words, but of a tongue similar to that of Elorit's.
"Ymg' ah nafl Kahn'calla'roz."
With a sickly crunch and a sloshing sound, the bulbous eye-encrusted head of the thing split open, and from within appeared a face in the red. Stretched, malformed meat pushed forth from the walls of the head like a face pressing on a cocoon, and from its stretched, slime-veiled second mouth came words that addressed the two remaining men. "You are not bringers of Black Pillars."
The voice that oozed forth was womanly but gargled underneath newborn flesh, and the creatures surrounding the two within the chamber were compelled to illuminate the thing, but their cries of terror and disgust were beacons of their dissatisfaction as much as their eyes were beacons of light. Their chitters and squelches sounded loud, and the creature responded.
A grand sound, like the ringing of a flesh-bell, silenced the light-makers. The voices spoke the same words, in the two tongues. "You are unfit." And with its words, came a sound like bones being ripped from a fish, and it rushed forward like an octopus of death.
It was all wrong. Roard was frozen, entirely stuck. But as the creature sounded towards its minions, he stood and grabbed the handle of his blade. As the creature lurched towards Iver and Elorit, Roard rushed forward, yanked the blade from the sheath, and swung like a giant at the first tentacle that was meant to liquefy Elorit.
Roard's blade slammed against the tentacle, chopping deep into the flesh, but not through, and not diluting its path towards Elorit. The tree-trunk of flesh still was aimed at the man.
Towards Iver came a tapering, pointed tentacle, meaning to impale the dwarf.
Towards Isaac came nothing but a judgmental glare, thousands of eyes turned towards the boy, guilt crushing him like a vice. Waves of fear and anxiety flushed him as the creature spoke again but within the crude folds of Isaac's human brain. It rattled his mind and stabbed at his subconscious, "Your brother is gone. And it's your fault."
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Post by kssanthony101 on Nov 25, 2018 14:24:58 GMT -8
Issac jerked back when tentacles crawled out of it's occupied shell of a human. The sight of it being alive and moving was unbelievable to him. It reminded him of the ghost tales of sunken ships by nightmarish creatures told by his father during bedtime when he was a boy, but this... this was real. He stepped back as tentacles crept towards Iver and Elorit, he could care less about a man of words and a dwarf.
The cracking of flesh and bones coming from this creature as it transforms to make a head and mouth made Issac vomit a bit, coughing up his lunch. His legs began to shake, his body failing to remain nimble, his eyes stuck to the view of this abomination, terror sank into his head. The screams and wails from the two other creatures only drove him more insane, those screams..by the Light he didn't want to hear him, he felt like this was a dream, a fracture of his imagination.
When he saw Roard charge forth to attack, he felt a small ray of hope from him but that would be rejected. That thing, it spoke a horrible truth, he knew it was right about the death of his brother but at the same time, he denied it. If he had gone on the same trail, the same damn trail where those bandits slaughtered his brother, maybe he would have died protecting his brother. His sanity slipped back, he was losing it, the eyes looking at him only made it worse. Tears began to form on his eyes, he covered his ears, not wanting to what this damned creature has to say. He stumbled back, all he wanted to do now is to butcher this thing, though he lacked discipline and mental toughness. All he felt was the urge to either bash this thing's head in or admit it.
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Post by EloHim on Nov 25, 2018 14:49:09 GMT -8
The hope rose in him as the answer was heard...but then it was shattered by actions. Violent actions. Someone tried to stop it... All of it happened to fast...and now he was thrown off his legs.
So much for the first contact,eh...?
He expected at least some time to formulate an answer, some patience but...its seems that today was his unlucky day.
He fell on his side,rattled by the force which hit him. For a moment it was hard to think, the seconds melded together, but he needed to act before others suffer the worser fate.
He quickly stood up, rummaging through his pockets and finally getting a small flask made from thick glass that kept a thick transparent liquid. He kept it for special operations but now...
And yet he hesitated to use the liquid on the creature... His instinct of self-preservation kicked in again and now his body refused to come anywhere near of the creature... So he turned to the only one who was not physically harmed in this cave. He tried to shook Isaac out of his torpor, shoving a flask into his hand.
"- Throw it directly at its head or we all dead."
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Post by Kidney on Dec 10, 2018 20:28:18 GMT -8
The tentacle that came towards Iver merely missed as the Dwarf rolled away, the meaty column instead withdrawing back near the massive bulbous head of the beast. It screeched like a banshee, and with Elorit's relative departure from the front line, a rain of two tentacles meant to annihilate Roard.
A single dagger changed that. The small metal instrument, thrown by Iver, stabbed a tentacle as it flew down, enough to stop that one tentacle's travel and divert some attention to the dwarf once more. Though, as one tentacle still careened at the leper, the mighty rotting man swung his sword like a mighty squid-cleaver.
The sword never made it to the flesh.
The mighty tentacle swung down upon the leper, batting him like the stones of Isaac, his bloated form hurling through the room and into the stone ten feet away. Eyes now peered more at Isaac, and stress hurtled towards him more than ever. Voices screeched within his head like a cacophonous thunderclap, "You let him die! You were a coward! You are a weak, spineless c r e t i n!"
Pain struck Roard in the chest, his bones had not been broken, but the wind was beaten from his chest and the sword from his arms. He struggled to breathe and coughed blood from his throat as he let out a bloodcurdling croak. He shot bloodshot eyes to Elorit, then to Isaac. He spoke not a word and simply stared. The message was clear. "Move!"
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Post by kssanthony101 on Dec 10, 2018 21:26:09 GMT -8
Isaac watched as the fight raged on. His fear forced him to remain still. Cold and helpless. He was in a limbo in his mind. Hearing the screams of agony from his brother from within, seeing the devious smirks of those bandits, and sorrow clouding his mind from rational thinking.
He watched as Iver dispatched a tentacle then to Roard's failure to strike an incoming blow. So many things happening at once, it overwhelmed Isaac. He knew he was an idiot to be in this place. What honor or glory did he have to receive for this fool's errand? His mother and father would be disappointed. He could have stayed home. Safe and sound from this place. A cozy home and only but a gravestone of a decreased sibling to speak to. Isaac took a deep breath, amidst the chaos around him, he eased himself of his thoughts. Though the death of his brother may have scattered his will it strengthened it at the same time. He felt hope. His fearful frown twisted into a crazed smile, he chuckled with a maniacal glee. With a brightened attitude given to him, he held the flask and his mace tightly.
His eyes temporarily closed, he remembered the good times of his life. The times with his brother. Isaac heard his brother's laughter and even saw his smile in his memories. Playing tag in the forest when they were little. The silly jokes they made. These memories comforted Isaac. He shed a single tear. His eyes opened, the tear dimming down his left cheek. He zoned out, muting himself from his surroundings. He focused, then stared back at the many eyes bearing down on him. He muttered in a whispering tone as if he was speaking to someone who was in the afterlife.
"This is for you brother..."
Then, he broke free from the fear. Adrenaline pumping into his vines, he breathed at an increased rate. He screamed on the top of his lungs like an enraged berserker, sprinting, heading straight towards the creature. The tear brisked away from his cheek. Once he got close to the very thing that pushed him to his limit, he hurled the flask, aiming for its head.
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Post by EloHim on Dec 20, 2018 22:02:30 GMT -8
He didn't actually cared if Isaac succeeded or not. The content of the flask would hurt any being made from flesh and bones. But that was as far as he was willing to go. If acid will not melt it enough to kill it, it will at least distract the creature enough for anyone to deliver a killing blow.
Elorit was prepared to fight a plague, a poison, a force of nature, anything that could actually be fought by thinking and non-offensive actions.. But instead he got face to face with a newborn eldritch being.
Now the words about demons really came back to bite him in the ass. Wouldn't be the last time probably.
He ran. Away from it all. Back up the ladder. Beyond the runes. He wasn't too bitter about running. He was no warrior and his impact on the whole thing was not even close to anything big. A familiar voice was telling him that there was no other outcome for him... this time.
Elorit leaves the expedition...
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Post by Unter on Dec 22, 2018 6:05:48 GMT -8
Bloody hell. It was not supposed to be like this. They were supposed to go in, kill some kind of... of faen fish and then go out. But... but this wasn't right. He acted without thinking, and tried to protect Elorit. Now the man fled, and Iver couldn't find the strengh to blame him. Now that the adrenaline was gone... A rotting sensation of fear clutched the dwarf's heart.
He vomited, the images around him too strong for his somewhat sane mind to fathom. He wouldn't die here. As he rolled, he was very protective of the torch he held so dearly. The fire was life. But as he saw Isaac, a particular moment from his life surged back to his memory.
He was in the circus, somewhere in the old world. The Meistr was just finishing his last lesson. 1, 2. 1,2. Throw. This was when half the circus burned. Animals, circus freaks, clowns, and other were running around, either fleeing or trying to douse the flames. Later, it was known from the only survivor that the "chemist", a particular freak of the circus, was the one responsible for this.
He was playing with acid, and wanted to know what happened if you put some acid on fire. The reaction killed him, and nearly took the whole circus.
The present situation unfolded anew under his eyes, as a tentacle missed him. The newborn was getting more and more used to this material world. He needed to be flushed out. He shouted at Isaac.
"THROW THE DAMN THING BOY !"
Following Isaac's acid throw, he launched his torch at the exact place where the acid would hit.
(Rolled an 19 in a d20. Pretty good if I must say so myself. And I do)
Everything depended on Iver's success. If the creature was stunned... He could get away. If not...
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Post by Kidney on Dec 22, 2018 7:55:21 GMT -8
Roard lay upon the ground, coughing up phlegm and blood, sitting within his own filth. He once attempted to stand, while Isaac deliberated, but fell back to his stomach. The chest plate he wore now was bent so far in it squeezed his chest like a fat snake, and Roard began to unbuckle the plate from himself to escape the brass tomb. "Akt!"
There was a grand scream.
Isaac's flask struck true.
With little more than a second of contact, the torch and the acid collided upon the newborn eldritch being's head, and an explosion like a thousand supernovas rattled the very earth. The creature before them screeched, it's beak extending from the hungry cave that hugged it, opening as wide as a bear trap, a horrendous roar escaping it as it's undulating form slammed against the walls, it's mighty head now a colossal torch.
With a series of fleshy pops, the head began to melt. Eyes and mouths and arms and legs sprouted from the wounds the fire forced into being, but as they did blood and ichor caught fire upon it, and even after the fire lost its grip upon some of the creature's body did the burnt, smoldering flesh split upon contact with the rough walls once more. It pushed itself up, puffing to appear bigger, screeching a final death rattle before the eldritch abomination crumbled to the floor before the trio.
Roard, yanking the chestpiece from himself, pushed himself to his feet. With a growl, he walked towards his sword and dragged the cleaver closer to the beast.
Without a roar or a grunt, silently, he began to hack it's burnt body to as many pieces as he could make.
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Post by kssanthony101 on Dec 22, 2018 8:51:19 GMT -8
He saw Elorit ran away from the battle like a coward. Was this how some people in this place were like? Leaving friends behind to their doom? He had a gut feeling that he would meet people who couldn't fight or handle the horrors beyond the estate. He can't blame Elorit for his choice yet if that bastard didn't give him that flask...they'd be this creature's snack. He will deal with that false scholar later.
After throwing the damned flask at the creature, Isaac quickly bashed it's the body with his mace a few times before he dashed away to find cover. He jumped over one of the eldritch spotlights and hid behind it. He had no idea what that flask had but if it was explosive or some bottled death, he wouldn't want to be near it. "Don't mind me freak, just using you as a shield." He peeked from cover to see a light as bright as the sun. He covered his eyes, a smirk appeared once more on his face. That thing dared to talk about his brother and now it's being barbecued on a Sunday afternoon with family.
How ironic for a hellish being to be easily dealt with a simple solution, hell Isaac had the idea to flash a cross at it if came down to it. Once the flames ceased, Isaac popped out of cover to see its burn carcass. He sighed in relief. He didn't know who throw that torch that sparked the creature into fires but he would like to know. In his mind he felt that he made his brother proud. He panted heavily, the adrenaline wearing off from his body made him tired and fatigued. The hatred and fury from before slithered back into the back of his mind. He was at ease.
Whoever set that thing on fire, I owe you one." He said
Isaac caught his breath and walked over to the deceased creature. With his spare dagger, he cut a small piece of its tentacle off, if the Heir needed evidence of the creature's demise, Isaac had it. Isaac tucked the hunk of meat into his satchel. Thank the Light he had some form of gloves on his hands because he still felt a small fraction of the burn from before. He out his dagger away than to see Roard outright chopping the creature up like a mariner skinning a whale. Isaac got behind Roard and placed his hand on his cloth-covered shoulder. Isaac wasn't the best at comforting people in dark times. Ever since he got into Europe he didn't meet that many faces until he got to the Hamlet.
"You still with me lad? You're kinda scaring me with uh...skinning that thing." Isaac said in a nervous tone.
Isaac had no idea if Roard was gonna stab him here and now for being so useless during the fight. He somewhat felt guilt for just standing there, doing nothing but cry like a baby. He craved for redemption but that would for another expedition. The job was done and now it was time to go. He wasn't going to leave anyone even those that he despised behind.
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Post by Unter on Dec 22, 2018 9:00:02 GMT -8
By the gods, it worked. It worked ! The acid reacted with the flame, and everything exploded right in front of Iver. The shockwave made his body fly, the heat had burned his hair and blackened his face, the flamed had touched his clothes and scarred his flesh, but he did it. He was on the ground, his injured back feeling the smooth, cold stone as the delightful cries of agony could still be heard.
Damn that fucking thing. May it rot in the depths of this faen swamp. As he stood up, he could barely feel anything. This was a blessing, for everywhere around his body, a flaming pain scorched his senses. Bloody hell. His pay would be soaked up in the healing. But, maybe, maybe he could buy something nice. Food that didn't taste like shite, for example.
But... maybe something else could be found here. As much as he'd wanted to get away -it was probably too late to join Elorit-, he wanted to profit from this place as much as he could. With a broken voice, he said.
"It was me, Isaac. I threw the torch. Now... Let's gather what we can find and run the fuck out of here. I'm not staying a moment more."
His eyes looked around the place, hoping to find something of worth.
(Perception roll : 14 on a d20)
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Post by Kidney on Dec 22, 2018 11:31:48 GMT -8
Roard, after a moment, was no longer hitting the creature with even the edge of his blade. More clubbing the creature now with the blade, his heavy breaths hung in his throat, a rasp now taking over his very bodily air. He slammed the great blade into the creature like one would a spear, and left it there.
Blood dripped from behind the mask as the phlegm and the blood within it dripped from his crust-lined lips against the back of the mask and down onto his sweat-stained tunic. He looked towards the dwarf, currently non-looking.
He turned towards Isaac with another growl. He grunted, placing his hand upon the nape of the boy's neck and pressing his rough, masked forehead against Isaac's own. "You've done well." he rasped.
Roard left the boy there, sheathing his sword after forcibly ripping it from the bubbling flesh of the newborn entity, and grabbed up his chest piece.
He sighed, and walked back into the gel-tunnel, requesting "Do not enter, I am to remove my mask and clean it, and eat a bit. Loot as you please. Then, we leave for the Hamlet to get our reward. "
Iver's eyes would perceive a particular glinting item within the circle of eldritch cyclopes, an ornate charm of some sort, held up on a bone that had been forked for the purpose of holding jewelry. It was made of jade, cut to resemble a tooth of some ancient beast.
Across the room, another glinting necklace held similarly glared from within the other circle of cyclopes, this one appeared to be a sunken head, the mouth sewn shut and the eyes replaced with shock-white pearls.
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Post by Unter on Dec 22, 2018 11:45:04 GMT -8
Iver sighed. A hint of gold. A glimpse of hope. They would finally get out of here. Like some stealing bird, he quickly marched where the riches laid. As if something, like a weak man who just thought he killed some powerful eldritch creature, could steal it away from Iver. He was a bit dissapppointed to see it was not solid gold, but instead a gemstone. A green one. In the shape of a tooth. How quaint.
He quickly shoved it in his pockets. He wanted to leave so badly, he nearly ran for the exit. While he was looting, Roard must have cleaned his mask but... He wasn't going to let Isaac alone in the room. He waited patiently for the man-boy to finish his business here.
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Post by kssanthony101 on Dec 22, 2018 12:14:15 GMT -8
Isaac let go of Roard's shoulder once he got his attention. For a masked man to be so caring yet deadly like an eagle, Isaac had one hell of a friend to trust with his life. As Roard turned around and grabbed his neck, Isaac feared he was going to get smacked like the troublesome boy that he is. But he was wrong, Roard left him to his own devices and to tend to his own business.
Isaac left Roard alone. He was worried about the diseased man, Isaac wouldn't want to lose his friend so early on his own personal quest. He came to the conclusion that creature for how it came back to life with the use of that poor man; Isaac would not use that unholy technique or ritual to bring his brother. Besides, he doesn't have that flask full of that mystery liquid to torch whatever his brother becomes and on top of that, he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He refreshed his mind, a realization popped into Isaac's head, he still had plans to confess his ordeal to Roard about his interest in magic. Apart from that, he had to get some plunder in this place. He spotted the valuable head across the room. For a head with jewels for eyes and sewn together like a twisted object, Isaac simply placed in his satchel.
Isaac didn't wish to explore more of this place after he finished looting, he approached the dwarf, commenting "For a man who's short, you got one hell of a throw."
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