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Graverobbing Niuri, with friends!
Ingram
Alaska
evade east
Shadowed dell.
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Cut into
the floor of the wood is a tiny valley, its steep edges lined with the waving
plumes of maiden hair fern, and the pink bobbing blossom of hearty cyclamen. The
narrow game trail that runs its length appears from nowhere at the forested
edge, and disappears in much the same way a few miles along where the ground
inclines and blends with the trees. A charred firepit sits here, lined by a wall
of rock and clay. There are 3 delicate grish flowers here. There are 6 Maddelif
flowers here. There are 2 yellow dandelions here. There are 6 silvery bluets
here. There are 2 sprigs of purple lilac here. A brilliant tulip with ruffled
petals has fallen to the ground. A feathery, red scintilily grows here, wavering
in passing winds. Aryanne Aquila is here.
You see exits leading southwest and west.
You conjure up the illusion: In an impressive explosion of color and clouds, fireworks boom out in a cacophony of sound at Ingram's entrance, the man coming in with his hands held up.
Lips pulling up in a cheery, playful grin, Aryanne Aquila says to you, "Was to talk on and about how 'fragile' your loyalties are. Those I need beat on and down-about to get you back to us proper folk."
You have emoted: Smirking as he approaches, slipping his hands into his pockets, Ingram murmurs quietly, "I'm fairly confident that'll never happen, Ary."
Aryanne giggles softly as she looks you over, a warm grin lighting her face as she insists, "Daresay I'll never quite cease trying - proper behaviour for an Ambassador, aye?" Her own hands catch behind her back, straightening her posture.
"And humoring you towards it would be drastically improper for a Senator," Ingram replies with his own grin, head tilting to the side. "Although I do appreciate your.. persistence. It's admirable."
"Diligence ought always be appreciated," Aryanne agrees with a solemn tone that contrasts to her cheery grin as she continues to look you over. After a few draws of silence, she chirps, "I've missed you, Ingram."
Ingram doesn't respond with words, instead opting to hold his arms out and open to you, smiling warmly.
Aryanne's shoulders rise to her ears and she wastes no time rushing in between your arms, throwing her own around the taller man's waist in greeting, squeezingntightly. "Still handsome on as ever!" she coos.
"My claim to fame," Ingram replies one the back of a smile, arms closing around and squeezing your tiny frame to him. "I missed you, too, by the way." He drops his chin atop your head and closes his eyes.
Jingling quietly, a werewolf mercenary enters from the west.
Look eiger
Wide and masculine, this woman's height puts her on par with your average gladiator. Mostly concealed beneath a heavy traveling cloak, bits and bobs of hiking gear emerge from her covering. Her fur is black, her ears sharp and alert, an ugly scar rent across her brow and eye.
"Lorenzo! I think I found where th' party's gonna be!" Eiger, a werewolf mercenary yells, cupping her hands around her long, lupine mouth.
You see Eiger, a werewolf mercenary yell, "Already people here!"
Ingram jerks back from Aryanne and spins to face Eiger, a werewolf mercenary.
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "The fu- No, what? Part? What?"
Aryanne hums happily before her eyes fly wide to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary and she looks around in confusion and alarm, "Whatever... Whatever on are you? Where do you think a party would be for?!"
Stalking in from the west, a cloaked figure enters the room.
You see Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure yell, "YOO!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary emits an ear-piercing "WHOOO!" and jogs around the dell, carelessly trampling flowers underfoot. "Which one o' you was bringin' the drinks?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Lorenzo! Hey! Didn'a guy in Riparium say it'd be out here?"
Ingram's head darts back and forth between Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure and Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, brow furrowed and eyes in a bit of a squint.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "Yeah, I think they did!"
"Aryaaanne, were you intending to throw a party?" Ingram says quietly from the corner of his mouth.
Bristling with ire and frustration, Aryanne watches Eiger, a werewolf mercenary trample the space before the small woman barks out sharply, "WATCH YOU BLOODY PITTING STEP, YOUNG MAN!"
"Er, hold on." Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure fumbles through their mysterious sleeves, pulling out a mysterious notebook. They begin to write - "What were those again? Those were GOOD!"
Aryanne plants her hands irritably on her step as she spares a glance back to you and replies in a similarly side-mouthed tone, "Hardly! Certainly not for such sorts running about as -that-!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary turns on Aryanne and lets her have it with a leery, drunken glare. "WHO DO YOU THINK YER CALLIN' A MA--" She looks down at herself. "Well curvy I ain't."
Staring off for a moment, Ingram shakes his head in disbelief before he realigns his eyes to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary and Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure. "Ok, just.. hhhold your horses, who're you two?"
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "Lorenzo, of the Liruma! I'm rich!"
Aryanne glances back to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary as she squints with doubt, cocking her head to the side and letting it loll here and there before deciding, "Suppose mayhaps you've lady-bits somewhere there-about."
Ingram dips his head to the right and makes a face that says, "Well at least there's that".
"Eiger Sindele, professional explorer. We're here for the party," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, as if you were the stupidest person in the world for not knowing. "When's the lutist showing up?"
Ingram hikes an eyebrow and asks, "By professional, do you mean godsawful, because there's no-- Wait, which lutist?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary slings her arm across her face, wiping her nose and mouth. "M'also grandly drunk. Lorenzo here ain't so keen on partyin' so I had to show'm the ropes."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary turns on Lorenzo suddenly. "Man, remember when you said A**!?"
"Yeah." Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure smacks Eiger hard on the back with their mysterious, clawed hand. "He's a great guy. Great."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "And yeah, I DO remember. Ahahahaha."
"Aahaha," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary agrees, "A**."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "A**!"
"A**," Ingram repeats, tone flat. He gives Aryanne another glances, covers his mouth while he clears his throat, and lifts his head back up with a smile. "Friends, party-goers, healthy-figured werewolf and cultist, I don't think you're exaaactly on the mark for the party location."
A single fist slipping from her hip, Aryanne's gaze flits between the two newcommers, her face screwing up with each drunkenly chortled word as she slowly steps closer to you and pointing to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure to challenge, "Great guy? Thought it just said it was no guy quite at all?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary stumbles, for no reason other than that she is, as she claims, incredibly stupefyingly drunk. "Well whadtha hell? Ain't never been lied to by a fish person. whhhere's the party?" She seems largely oblivious to the debate on her visible gender.
Ingram clicks his tongue and scratches at the back of his neck, staring at the ground.
You murmur to Aryanne, "Feel like getting drunk with these two?"
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "The party is in an ELSEWHERE!"
Look lorenzo
This figure seems to be about human size, and they are built rather stockily. A thick, black cloak covers their body from head to foot, concealing their features. Peeking out from under the sleeve of the cloak gleams a long, bone handled knife. The figure's glowing red eyes illuminate the edges of their hood, but do little to etch out the contours of their face. It is called 'Lorenzo.'
Looking around the other-wise un-attended dell, Aryanne glances back up to you and lifts a shoulder to muse, "I -do- have tankard or two about I've been meaning drink up."
"ELSEWHERE," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary bellows, raising both fists into the air. "Like... like... where!"
Aryanne raises a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask full of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker" with a playful grin and cheery giggle of the well-filled contents.
Ingram nods slowly, eyes narrowing in an idea before he claps his hands together once and takes a few steps to the newcomer pair. "Hey, want to get wasted with.. More wasted with us?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary doesn't even hesitate. "Hell yeah."
Ingram flicks a hand out and says, "F*** it. Let's."
"WOO!" Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure pumps their mysterious fist, doing a tiny dance on the spot.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary pumps her rather mundane and totally comprehensible fist, her tail swatting about the inside of her cloak. "Let's DO IT! The hell we go? You two must know AMAZING party places."
"Umm," Ingram starts before glancing back to Aryanne, lifting a hand palm-up and giving a quizzical look before something dawns on him.
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "I know a brothel in Delos."
Grin broadening as she spins free the cap to her flask, Aryanne begins to gesture toward a charred firepit, tipping back the flask to quaff some of the strong drink before pulling the hand back and dropping the flask to her waist and stepping in, insisting, "I know -the- best of all spots and places. No silly brothel."
Snorting, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "We just came FROM the brothel."
You say to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure, "How was it?"
"Little girls like matchsticks there," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary complains. "Normally tha's nice but I could go fer a real mountain of a guy right now, know what I mean?"
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask full of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Ingram back-steps to Aryanne's side and gives a side-nod in response to her declaration.
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "Like me?"
Aryanne raises a brow as she looks up at you and barks a laugh despite herself, "YOU? A mountain?”
Ingram flings his lithe arms out to let them bounce off his narrow sides with a grin.
You smile and say, "Mountain of character."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary looks you head to foot. Then head to foot again. Then mostly your feet, since her head seems to be a little too heavy. Then, in a burst of inspiration, she comes alive, saying, "Drinkin' contest! Whoever wins is gonna make Lorenzo feel -real- alive!"
Aryanne rolls her eyes childishly as she snorts brightly with amusement, "Mountain of -something-"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary leans aside and whispers to Lorenzo, a little too loudly, "Thank me later, buddy."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "Um... What?"
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure stares at Eiger in clear, oblivious bewilderment.
"WHOOOOO! PARTY!" Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, and begins to follow you and Aryanne.
"The f***.." Ingram whispers with a squint before simply shaking his head. "Whatever. Aryanne! Lead us."
You begin to follow Aryanne.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure begins to follow Aryanne.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary begins to follow Aryanne.
Crumbling ledge over an impossible sea.
Doubling back along the path that leads here, one can see a forest as clear as
day. And yet, at the edge of this cliff, it is nowhere in sight, nothing but
silvery sea on the horizon. There appears to be no underside to the cliff at
all, a curling edge of grass looming over the mysterious drop into long distant
waters. The rippling, metallic surface of the sea stretches in all directions
below. A thin, blackened hand sits at the bottom of this large grave. There are
2 feathery, red scintililys here. Sprouting in modest clusters are the shy
growths of silvery bluets. There are 2 delicate grish flowers here. A sprig of
purple lilac has been left behind. There are 2 brilliant tulips here. Their body
covered by a thick, dark cloak, Lorenzo, a mysterious figure stands here. Lean
and dangerous-looking, a werewolf mercenary stands here. Aryanne Aquila is here.
You see a single exit leading north.
Look grave
Deep enough to admit a bison, this huge grave would be of sufficient size for a God. Edged with rich Morgun soil, the only thing occupying the lonely hole is a small hand, black as if frostbitten. A crude, uncarved stone at the head of the grave designates this site as belonging to the Goddess Niuri.
Aryanne smiles brightly as she trudges up the sides of the dell, insisting, "BEST of spots!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary only needs one look at the grave. "The... this is messed up," she says, in a strangely approving tone.
Dryly, you say, "Oh yeaaaah. Omei's shattered temple, after Her recent near-miss towards coming back to the realms. Perfect. Perfect. And a big grave! Better."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary steps up behind you and tries to give you a playful shove into the grave.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "LET'S DRINK IN IT."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure licks their mysterious lips, staring around themselves in confusion - horror - but, at the same time, some trepidation. "This place. They warned us away from here. We were never supposed to come here."
Aryanne settles in with a mischievous grin as she wanders to the massive grave, nearly cheery as she bounces on her toes, insisting, "First to get burried by slough losses."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "This? Naaahhh. Thissa been here for four centuries, ain't no one lives here."
Standing as he is on one foot with the other crossed afront it, Ingram gracelessly flails into the thing. Dirt rolls and slides in after him and he punts a palm into the earth before turning and standing up, quite shorter than all of you now. "Thanks, you furry giant."
Aryanne approaches Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure with a polite, girlishly welcoming smile as she insists, "Now on! If we only quite ever did as we were told, no one'd ever have proper fun."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary allows you to thank her up close, since she leaps into the grave herself. There is more than enough room for everyone. "Aww- aww this is great, this reminds me o' when I was a lass..."
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "You were a girl?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "We'd play this game where we stand in fronna a mirror and say th' names of our dead gran'mothers, and whoever kept their... eyes..."
Ingram sniffs sharply, not waiting for an answer, beginning to smack off dirt from his clothes.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary breathes heavily and blurts at you, "Don't make me PROVE it!"
With a severely uncomfortable expression, Ingram shakes his head rapidly in response.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure sits down at the edge of the grave - they stare downward, into it, their mysterious eyes slitted as they try to discern what's at its bottom.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary treats the site with complete irreverence. She reaches into her cloak, and - oh look, it was her bringing the alcohol - and upends a bottle into her mouth, drowning what must surely be a bellyful of vodka or rum or who knows what with more of the same.
Aryanne holds an inviting hand out to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure, her wide eyes smiling up at the figure as she insists, beckoning as she steps a single foot over the edge, weight threatening to topple her in, "Safe on as ever a mass grave was, I promise."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure shrugs their mysterious shoulders, digs into the earth with their mysterious talons, and takes a gallivanting jump into the grave.
In turn, Ingram reaches into his pack and tugs free a tankard, plucking off an improvised, wooden lid before bringing it to his lips.
You drink from a plain tankard of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
You ask Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "So.. When did you get rid of your penis?"
With no visible sign of outrage or upset, Eiger, a werewolf mercenary swings her arm in a neat circle and clocks you on the skull with her bottle.
Ingram hikes his eyebrows in interest as he hides the bottom of his face with the tankard he drinks from. Liquid sloshes and smacks over the breast of his coat at the blow and he stumbles a few feet to the side.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Don' make me take yours, boy. I learned a trick like that fightin' off pirates in the Beryl Sea."
You drink from a plain tankard of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
Aryanne smiles brightly, leaning back onto the earth more securely before shifting to sit at the edge and hanging her feet into the now-crowded depths, smirking with a bright giggle as you is twacked.
Aryanne sips from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
As he rubs at his head while making a face, Ingram glances around and rechecks his footing in the dirt before waving his hand at Aryanne. "Did you two know -she- has a penis? Thick, meaty flesh obelisk, with proportions the like I've never seen."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary flutters her hand around near your face, flippantly urging you to shut up. "Guys. Guys. Guys."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "GUYS."
Brilliantly, Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Let's dig Her up."
Flatly, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "What."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Niuri. This's Her grave. LET'S DIG HER UP."
Aryanne's nose curls up in distaste as she balks at the accusation, "Have no such thing, you lying liar who lies!" With that she turns her attention back to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, brows shooting high to ask, "Miss Niuri?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary begins to pat herself down, auditing her latched tools for something handy to dig with.
"Dreadfully far too sober..." Aryanne murmurs before tilting her head back and pouring the remaining contents down her throat, some drink trickling down her neck as she chokes to take it all down.
You drink from a plain tankard of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
You drink from a plain tankard with traces of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask with traces of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask with traces of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask with traces of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
"...Goddess of Mystery," Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure murmurs, half to
themselves, scratching their mysterious chin.
Ingram hisses sharply, and then, wretches a bit from the severe volume of his intake before shaking his head rapidly. He swallows over and over until his throat relaxes to the point he doesn't risk throwing up, then, he turns and says, "What if She's, like, uh.. still alive?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary beholds you disbelievingly. "Buddy. Buuuddy. Hey. You know what this is?" she asks, drawing a box with her finger, indicating the earthen walls.
You look up into the air for divine inspiration.
You say, "I don't want a reanimated Goddess trying to kill me, okay?"
You point accusingly at Aryanne.
You say to Aryanne, "Can you improvise your colossal flesh stick to dig the grave up?"
"It's a bloody grave," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, suddenly in your face, a veritable fog wall of vodka - ah, it's vodka - stench just a few inches away.
There's a little glass vial in Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand - they eye it, and then they drink it down, wincing at the caustic taste.
Mere moments later, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure is laid out flat, totally unconscious, lost in some all-consuming vision.
Ingram stops breathing, largely to spare his nose the displeasure. He reaches out and pats Eiger, a werewolf mercenary's chest before regretting it, pulling the extremity back quickly. "I'm sorry, I forgot you have breasts of a sort, didn't mean to--" His attention is drawn into a double-take of Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure and he squints faintly. "What's with your friend?
Tossing the emptied flask away, Aryanne coughs and sputters only for a moment before hopping down fully into the now-cramped grave with her companions as she insists, "Worse we could find is-" Her words stop as she watches Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure fall with a eye-popping blink. "That... It's not... Whomever -is- that?"
"Ain't a zombie goddess. Nooo such thing. There was that hoax back in Arbothia in, what... oughty twenty eighty Lorenzo!" Eiger, a werewolf mercenary Casting a grim glance at the cultist, she appraises him until suddenly things seem okay, her worried expression gone. "Guy's partied out. Means more adventure for us."
Ingram waves a finger off in a direction before saying, "There's a shovel salesman on the road, I -think-. Want me to go run and get it?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary finally plucks a leaf-shaped device from her gear, readjusting her cloak. Suddenly she's going at it with a small spade, crouched onto her haunches to dig at the moist earth. "If you want! We'll make it a race. First to dig up the ol' Mystery bones gets first pick of Her jewelry."
You say, "Deal."
Unconvinced, Aryanne crouches down next to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure with cautious worry, trying for the vial in the figures hand as she prods carefully at what should be chest and face beneath the cloak. "Ought we pull him on out first? Would hate bury it up by mistake..."
Ingram comes jogging back in with a shovel in hand before veritably leaping into the grave and landing into a crouch, beginning to dig.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary leaves Aryanne and Lorenzo to their own devices. She isn't about to be beaten by you. With a frenzy that only alcohol could provide, she upends scoopful after scoopful of dirt. Only trouble is, her shovel is about a third the size of your.
Spearing in and hefting large piles of dirt over his shoulder, Ingram's brow is already beginning to shine, face fairly flushed with both exertion and the alcohol that already is beginning to hit him. He pauses a moment, takes a breath, takes a few drinks, and resumes with a more vigorous pace.
Moving around behind the fallen figure, Aryanne does her best to avoid flying shovel-fulls of dirt as she grasps the figure's cloak by the shoulders, heaving and pulling it out of the way and into a corner of the grave as best as possible before whipping out a cozy quilt depicting a grumpy orpi and laying it over the form's body, protecting them at well from flying clumps of cemetery earth.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure flops awkwardly into the grave's corner, drooling on themselves and staring at nothing in particular.
Suddenly, Ingram's shovel strikes something with a hard 'clink'. He jams a finger at Eiger, a werewolf mercenary with a triumphant "Ha!" before he drops down and paws apart dirt, then reaches in to pull free and snag up a rather boring rock. His face goes flat, he chucks it aside, and silently goes back to digging.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary has worked up a sweat of her own, shouting and swearing at the gravesite as if she could exhume the soil with the power of her voice. A maddened, greedy twinkle in her eye, she continually steals glances at your work, stopping to shout a "No, no!" before seeing it is just a rock.
Truth be told, the two of them have been digging for a long time. In an open grave.
An open grave.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary drops her spade, panting ferociously, her cloak drooping around her head and shoulders. "You... know... I think... if they buried Her... we'd be where She's supposed to be..."
Panting, Ingram stops after a moment longer of feverish digging, slumped over with his arm draped over the handle of his shovel with a hung head. "Maybe she wasn't.. heeghh, ugh, maybe she wasn't even buried here. Could be just a stupid monument." He smacks his shovel in a few more lazy times before chucking it aside.
Ingram blindly pats about for his tankard before snagging the handle and bringing it to his lips.
You drink from a plain tankard with traces of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
You drink from a plain tankard with traces of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
Aryanne continues to crouch next to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure at the dirt's wall until Eiger, a werewolf mercenary's words hit her ear and her head snaps up with a start and she looks to the high, open walls of earth.
Outraged as the prospect of grand adventure - and theft - fizzled before her eyes, Eiger, a werewolf mercenary kicks the dried hand aside.
The ground rumbles.
Aryanne stands up and stretches her arms out wide.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary very quickly shoves the hand back to where it was.
"BRIGHT CAT!" Aryanne cries out with alarm as the integrity of the dirty walls comes into question with the rumbling earth.
Ingram rises to his full height with his drink still held stomach-high. "What was that?" he says quickly.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "That was me not touching that ever again."
Ingram points at Eiger, a werewolf mercenary. "Was that a f****** hand?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary points at the black hand on the ground. "S'been there the whole time. Did you not see it?"
Jerking her head toward the hand, Aryanne agrees, "You didn't notice? Been here a month at least on."
"No," Ingram mutters, squinting off with a sigh.
No further rumblings follow, which suits Eiger, a werewolf mercenary just fine. Kneeling by Aryanne, she jostles Lorenzo. "Hey. Hey buddy. You didn't die, right?"
Aryanne turns her head up to the walls that surpass her head, softly calling out with hope, "Briiight caaaat! Weh! We juh! We could use mayhaps a ladder..."
With a faint wobble to the right and left, Ingram's face suddenly splits in a grin before he steps over and kneels down. "And yes, we'll lease the room to you for two years with a decrease in rent for no late payments," he says poshly, officially, before reaching in to give the hand a firm shake. "Thank you for your business."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary unconsciously begins to pat Lorenzo's cloak, looking for valuables.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand lashes out, mysterious talons coiling around Eiger's throat. Their mysterious, glowing red eyes narrow. They sit up, slowly, drool curling on one of their mysterious lips.
Growling, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "I will end you."
As Ingram touches the hand, the ground shakes again, and a disturbing, guttural creak swells from below, above, and all around.
All of this is too much stimulus for Eiger, a werewolf mercenary to handle. With her hand seized in Lorenzo's tight grip, she screams in alarm.
When he's upended, Ingram falls back still grasping the exposed extremity, giving it a sharp yank as he drop onto his backside.
Aryanne flops and lunges as the ground shakes around and warps, eyes wide and a soft squeal leaving her own lips, "Ingram! Give it the hand!"
Fresh dirt begins to spill into the grave. The walls themselves loom over you, their angle shifting subtly. The lot of you look as if you will be swallowed.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand drops - they stand. They draw their dagger, more on instinct than anything, as it doesn't seem much good for the situation at hand.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "A**. A**. Oh, a**, a**, a**..."
"Assing a**," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary agrees, terrified. "Do you have to keep the hand? Put it back, no reason not to!"
Ingram stumbles up into a stand, the hand still held in his. He glances around abruptly, blinking hard, shaking his head drunkenly. Looking back to the trio, he says, "Huh?"
The walls lean in further, unstoppable now, crumbling and rapidly filling in the grave with dirt.
"THROW THE HAND OUT!" Aryanne insists as she lurches forward, staying to the center of the grave as it threatens to slough in and bury the companions. "She wants it left on and alone-like!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Noooo----."
Aryanne stands up and stretches her arms out wide.
Tremendous waves of soil tumble into the grave, burying you alive, crushing you under so much earthen weight.
You have been slain by a massive grave.
The Hall of the Underking.
There are no obvious exits.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary was crushed inside a massive grave.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure was crushed to death inside a massive
grave.
Shadowed dell.
The bright sun shines down, blanketing you with its life-giving warmth. Cut into
the floor of the wood is a tiny valley, its steep edges lined with the waving
plumes of maiden hair fern, and the pink bobbing blossom of hearty cyclamen. The
narrow game trail that runs its length appears from nowhere at the forested
edge, and disappears in much the same way a few miles along where the ground
inclines and blends with the trees. A charred firepit sits here, lined by a wall
of rock and clay. There are 3 delicate grish flowers here. There are 6 Maddelif
flowers here. There are 2 yellow dandelions here. There are 6 silvery bluets
here. There are 2 sprigs of purple lilac here. A brilliant tulip with ruffled
petals has fallen to the ground. A feathery, red scintilily grows here, wavering
in passing winds. Aryanne Aquila is here.
You see exits leading southwest and west.
You conjure up the illusion: In an impressive explosion of color and clouds, fireworks boom out in a cacophony of sound at Ingram's entrance, the man coming in with his hands held up.
Lips pulling up in a cheery, playful grin, Aryanne Aquila says to you, "Was to talk on and about how 'fragile' your loyalties are. Those I need beat on and down-about to get you back to us proper folk."
You have emoted: Smirking as he approaches, slipping his hands into his pockets, Ingram murmurs quietly, "I'm fairly confident that'll never happen, Ary."
Aryanne giggles softly as she looks you over, a warm grin lighting her face as she insists, "Daresay I'll never quite cease trying - proper behaviour for an Ambassador, aye?" Her own hands catch behind her back, straightening her posture.
"And humoring you towards it would be drastically improper for a Senator," Ingram replies with his own grin, head tilting to the side. "Although I do appreciate your.. persistence. It's admirable."
"Diligence ought always be appreciated," Aryanne agrees with a solemn tone that contrasts to her cheery grin as she continues to look you over. After a few draws of silence, she chirps, "I've missed you, Ingram."
Ingram doesn't respond with words, instead opting to hold his arms out and open to you, smiling warmly.
Aryanne's shoulders rise to her ears and she wastes no time rushing in between your arms, throwing her own around the taller man's waist in greeting, squeezingntightly. "Still handsome on as ever!" she coos.
"My claim to fame," Ingram replies one the back of a smile, arms closing around and squeezing your tiny frame to him. "I missed you, too, by the way." He drops his chin atop your head and closes his eyes.
Jingling quietly, a werewolf mercenary enters from the west.
Look eiger
Wide and masculine, this woman's height puts her on par with your average gladiator. Mostly concealed beneath a heavy traveling cloak, bits and bobs of hiking gear emerge from her covering. Her fur is black, her ears sharp and alert, an ugly scar rent across her brow and eye.
"Lorenzo! I think I found where th' party's gonna be!" Eiger, a werewolf mercenary yells, cupping her hands around her long, lupine mouth.
You see Eiger, a werewolf mercenary yell, "Already people here!"
Ingram jerks back from Aryanne and spins to face Eiger, a werewolf mercenary.
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "The fu- No, what? Part? What?"
Aryanne hums happily before her eyes fly wide to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary and she looks around in confusion and alarm, "Whatever... Whatever on are you? Where do you think a party would be for?!"
Stalking in from the west, a cloaked figure enters the room.
You see Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure yell, "YOO!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary emits an ear-piercing "WHOOO!" and jogs around the dell, carelessly trampling flowers underfoot. "Which one o' you was bringin' the drinks?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Lorenzo! Hey! Didn'a guy in Riparium say it'd be out here?"
Ingram's head darts back and forth between Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure and Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, brow furrowed and eyes in a bit of a squint.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "Yeah, I think they did!"
"Aryaaanne, were you intending to throw a party?" Ingram says quietly from the corner of his mouth.
Bristling with ire and frustration, Aryanne watches Eiger, a werewolf mercenary trample the space before the small woman barks out sharply, "WATCH YOU BLOODY PITTING STEP, YOUNG MAN!"
"Er, hold on." Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure fumbles through their mysterious sleeves, pulling out a mysterious notebook. They begin to write - "What were those again? Those were GOOD!"
Aryanne plants her hands irritably on her step as she spares a glance back to you and replies in a similarly side-mouthed tone, "Hardly! Certainly not for such sorts running about as -that-!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary turns on Aryanne and lets her have it with a leery, drunken glare. "WHO DO YOU THINK YER CALLIN' A MA--" She looks down at herself. "Well curvy I ain't."
Staring off for a moment, Ingram shakes his head in disbelief before he realigns his eyes to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary and Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure. "Ok, just.. hhhold your horses, who're you two?"
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "Lorenzo, of the Liruma! I'm rich!"
Aryanne glances back to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary as she squints with doubt, cocking her head to the side and letting it loll here and there before deciding, "Suppose mayhaps you've lady-bits somewhere there-about."
Ingram dips his head to the right and makes a face that says, "Well at least there's that".
"Eiger Sindele, professional explorer. We're here for the party," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, as if you were the stupidest person in the world for not knowing. "When's the lutist showing up?"
Ingram hikes an eyebrow and asks, "By professional, do you mean godsawful, because there's no-- Wait, which lutist?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary slings her arm across her face, wiping her nose and mouth. "M'also grandly drunk. Lorenzo here ain't so keen on partyin' so I had to show'm the ropes."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary turns on Lorenzo suddenly. "Man, remember when you said A**!?"
"Yeah." Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure smacks Eiger hard on the back with their mysterious, clawed hand. "He's a great guy. Great."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "And yeah, I DO remember. Ahahahaha."
"Aahaha," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary agrees, "A**."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "A**!"
"A**," Ingram repeats, tone flat. He gives Aryanne another glances, covers his mouth while he clears his throat, and lifts his head back up with a smile. "Friends, party-goers, healthy-figured werewolf and cultist, I don't think you're exaaactly on the mark for the party location."
A single fist slipping from her hip, Aryanne's gaze flits between the two newcommers, her face screwing up with each drunkenly chortled word as she slowly steps closer to you and pointing to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure to challenge, "Great guy? Thought it just said it was no guy quite at all?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary stumbles, for no reason other than that she is, as she claims, incredibly stupefyingly drunk. "Well whadtha hell? Ain't never been lied to by a fish person. whhhere's the party?" She seems largely oblivious to the debate on her visible gender.
Ingram clicks his tongue and scratches at the back of his neck, staring at the ground.
You murmur to Aryanne, "Feel like getting drunk with these two?"
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "The party is in an ELSEWHERE!"
Look lorenzo
This figure seems to be about human size, and they are built rather stockily. A thick, black cloak covers their body from head to foot, concealing their features. Peeking out from under the sleeve of the cloak gleams a long, bone handled knife. The figure's glowing red eyes illuminate the edges of their hood, but do little to etch out the contours of their face. It is called 'Lorenzo.'
Looking around the other-wise un-attended dell, Aryanne glances back up to you and lifts a shoulder to muse, "I -do- have tankard or two about I've been meaning drink up."
"ELSEWHERE," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary bellows, raising both fists into the air. "Like... like... where!"
Aryanne raises a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask full of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker" with a playful grin and cheery giggle of the well-filled contents.
Ingram nods slowly, eyes narrowing in an idea before he claps his hands together once and takes a few steps to the newcomer pair. "Hey, want to get wasted with.. More wasted with us?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary doesn't even hesitate. "Hell yeah."
Ingram flicks a hand out and says, "F*** it. Let's."
"WOO!" Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure pumps their mysterious fist, doing a tiny dance on the spot.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary pumps her rather mundane and totally comprehensible fist, her tail swatting about the inside of her cloak. "Let's DO IT! The hell we go? You two must know AMAZING party places."
"Umm," Ingram starts before glancing back to Aryanne, lifting a hand palm-up and giving a quizzical look before something dawns on him.
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "I know a brothel in Delos."
Grin broadening as she spins free the cap to her flask, Aryanne begins to gesture toward a charred firepit, tipping back the flask to quaff some of the strong drink before pulling the hand back and dropping the flask to her waist and stepping in, insisting, "I know -the- best of all spots and places. No silly brothel."
Snorting, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "We just came FROM the brothel."
You say to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure, "How was it?"
"Little girls like matchsticks there," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary complains. "Normally tha's nice but I could go fer a real mountain of a guy right now, know what I mean?"
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask full of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Ingram back-steps to Aryanne's side and gives a side-nod in response to her declaration.
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "Like me?"
Aryanne raises a brow as she looks up at you and barks a laugh despite herself, "YOU? A mountain?”
Ingram flings his lithe arms out to let them bounce off his narrow sides with a grin.
You smile and say, "Mountain of character."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary looks you head to foot. Then head to foot again. Then mostly your feet, since her head seems to be a little too heavy. Then, in a burst of inspiration, she comes alive, saying, "Drinkin' contest! Whoever wins is gonna make Lorenzo feel -real- alive!"
Aryanne rolls her eyes childishly as she snorts brightly with amusement, "Mountain of -something-"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary leans aside and whispers to Lorenzo, a little too loudly, "Thank me later, buddy."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "Um... What?"
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure stares at Eiger in clear, oblivious bewilderment.
"WHOOOOO! PARTY!" Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, and begins to follow you and Aryanne.
"The f***.." Ingram whispers with a squint before simply shaking his head. "Whatever. Aryanne! Lead us."
You begin to follow Aryanne.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure begins to follow Aryanne.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary begins to follow Aryanne.
Crumbling ledge over an impossible sea.
Doubling back along the path that leads here, one can see a forest as clear as
day. And yet, at the edge of this cliff, it is nowhere in sight, nothing but
silvery sea on the horizon. There appears to be no underside to the cliff at
all, a curling edge of grass looming over the mysterious drop into long distant
waters. The rippling, metallic surface of the sea stretches in all directions
below. A thin, blackened hand sits at the bottom of this large grave. There are
2 feathery, red scintililys here. Sprouting in modest clusters are the shy
growths of silvery bluets. There are 2 delicate grish flowers here. A sprig of
purple lilac has been left behind. There are 2 brilliant tulips here. Their body
covered by a thick, dark cloak, Lorenzo, a mysterious figure stands here. Lean
and dangerous-looking, a werewolf mercenary stands here. Aryanne Aquila is here.
You see a single exit leading north.
Look grave
Deep enough to admit a bison, this huge grave would be of sufficient size for a God. Edged with rich Morgun soil, the only thing occupying the lonely hole is a small hand, black as if frostbitten. A crude, uncarved stone at the head of the grave designates this site as belonging to the Goddess Niuri.
Aryanne smiles brightly as she trudges up the sides of the dell, insisting, "BEST of spots!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary only needs one look at the grave. "The... this is messed up," she says, in a strangely approving tone.
Dryly, you say, "Oh yeaaaah. Omei's shattered temple, after Her recent near-miss towards coming back to the realms. Perfect. Perfect. And a big grave! Better."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary steps up behind you and tries to give you a playful shove into the grave.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "LET'S DRINK IN IT."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure licks their mysterious lips, staring around themselves in confusion - horror - but, at the same time, some trepidation. "This place. They warned us away from here. We were never supposed to come here."
Aryanne settles in with a mischievous grin as she wanders to the massive grave, nearly cheery as she bounces on her toes, insisting, "First to get burried by slough losses."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "This? Naaahhh. Thissa been here for four centuries, ain't no one lives here."
Standing as he is on one foot with the other crossed afront it, Ingram gracelessly flails into the thing. Dirt rolls and slides in after him and he punts a palm into the earth before turning and standing up, quite shorter than all of you now. "Thanks, you furry giant."
Aryanne approaches Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure with a polite, girlishly welcoming smile as she insists, "Now on! If we only quite ever did as we were told, no one'd ever have proper fun."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary allows you to thank her up close, since she leaps into the grave herself. There is more than enough room for everyone. "Aww- aww this is great, this reminds me o' when I was a lass..."
You say to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "You were a girl?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "We'd play this game where we stand in fronna a mirror and say th' names of our dead gran'mothers, and whoever kept their... eyes..."
Ingram sniffs sharply, not waiting for an answer, beginning to smack off dirt from his clothes.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary breathes heavily and blurts at you, "Don't make me PROVE it!"
With a severely uncomfortable expression, Ingram shakes his head rapidly in response.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure sits down at the edge of the grave - they stare downward, into it, their mysterious eyes slitted as they try to discern what's at its bottom.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary treats the site with complete irreverence. She reaches into her cloak, and - oh look, it was her bringing the alcohol - and upends a bottle into her mouth, drowning what must surely be a bellyful of vodka or rum or who knows what with more of the same.
Aryanne holds an inviting hand out to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure, her wide eyes smiling up at the figure as she insists, beckoning as she steps a single foot over the edge, weight threatening to topple her in, "Safe on as ever a mass grave was, I promise."
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure shrugs their mysterious shoulders, digs into the earth with their mysterious talons, and takes a gallivanting jump into the grave.
In turn, Ingram reaches into his pack and tugs free a tankard, plucking off an improvised, wooden lid before bringing it to his lips.
You drink from a plain tankard of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
You ask Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, "So.. When did you get rid of your penis?"
With no visible sign of outrage or upset, Eiger, a werewolf mercenary swings her arm in a neat circle and clocks you on the skull with her bottle.
Ingram hikes his eyebrows in interest as he hides the bottom of his face with the tankard he drinks from. Liquid sloshes and smacks over the breast of his coat at the blow and he stumbles a few feet to the side.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Don' make me take yours, boy. I learned a trick like that fightin' off pirates in the Beryl Sea."
You drink from a plain tankard of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
Aryanne smiles brightly, leaning back onto the earth more securely before shifting to sit at the edge and hanging her feet into the now-crowded depths, smirking with a bright giggle as you is twacked.
Aryanne sips from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
As he rubs at his head while making a face, Ingram glances around and rechecks his footing in the dirt before waving his hand at Aryanne. "Did you two know -she- has a penis? Thick, meaty flesh obelisk, with proportions the like I've never seen."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary flutters her hand around near your face, flippantly urging you to shut up. "Guys. Guys. Guys."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "GUYS."
Brilliantly, Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Let's dig Her up."
Flatly, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "What."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Niuri. This's Her grave. LET'S DIG HER UP."
Aryanne's nose curls up in distaste as she balks at the accusation, "Have no such thing, you lying liar who lies!" With that she turns her attention back to Eiger, a werewolf mercenary, brows shooting high to ask, "Miss Niuri?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary begins to pat herself down, auditing her latched tools for something handy to dig with.
"Dreadfully far too sober..." Aryanne murmurs before tilting her head back and pouring the remaining contents down her throat, some drink trickling down her neck as she chokes to take it all down.
You drink from a plain tankard of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
You drink from a plain tankard with traces of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask with traces of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask with traces of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
Aryanne drinks from a sleek, cold obsidian hip flask with traces of an ominous golden dose of "The Backbreaker".
"...Goddess of Mystery," Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure murmurs, half to
themselves, scratching their mysterious chin.
Ingram hisses sharply, and then, wretches a bit from the severe volume of his intake before shaking his head rapidly. He swallows over and over until his throat relaxes to the point he doesn't risk throwing up, then, he turns and says, "What if She's, like, uh.. still alive?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary beholds you disbelievingly. "Buddy. Buuuddy. Hey. You know what this is?" she asks, drawing a box with her finger, indicating the earthen walls.
You look up into the air for divine inspiration.
You say, "I don't want a reanimated Goddess trying to kill me, okay?"
You point accusingly at Aryanne.
You say to Aryanne, "Can you improvise your colossal flesh stick to dig the grave up?"
"It's a bloody grave," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, suddenly in your face, a veritable fog wall of vodka - ah, it's vodka - stench just a few inches away.
There's a little glass vial in Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand - they eye it, and then they drink it down, wincing at the caustic taste.
Mere moments later, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure is laid out flat, totally unconscious, lost in some all-consuming vision.
Ingram stops breathing, largely to spare his nose the displeasure. He reaches out and pats Eiger, a werewolf mercenary's chest before regretting it, pulling the extremity back quickly. "I'm sorry, I forgot you have breasts of a sort, didn't mean to--" His attention is drawn into a double-take of Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure and he squints faintly. "What's with your friend?
Tossing the emptied flask away, Aryanne coughs and sputters only for a moment before hopping down fully into the now-cramped grave with her companions as she insists, "Worse we could find is-" Her words stop as she watches Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure fall with a eye-popping blink. "That... It's not... Whomever -is- that?"
"Ain't a zombie goddess. Nooo such thing. There was that hoax back in Arbothia in, what... oughty twenty eighty Lorenzo!" Eiger, a werewolf mercenary Casting a grim glance at the cultist, she appraises him until suddenly things seem okay, her worried expression gone. "Guy's partied out. Means more adventure for us."
Ingram waves a finger off in a direction before saying, "There's a shovel salesman on the road, I -think-. Want me to go run and get it?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary finally plucks a leaf-shaped device from her gear, readjusting her cloak. Suddenly she's going at it with a small spade, crouched onto her haunches to dig at the moist earth. "If you want! We'll make it a race. First to dig up the ol' Mystery bones gets first pick of Her jewelry."
You say, "Deal."
Unconvinced, Aryanne crouches down next to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure with cautious worry, trying for the vial in the figures hand as she prods carefully at what should be chest and face beneath the cloak. "Ought we pull him on out first? Would hate bury it up by mistake..."
Ingram comes jogging back in with a shovel in hand before veritably leaping into the grave and landing into a crouch, beginning to dig.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary leaves Aryanne and Lorenzo to their own devices. She isn't about to be beaten by you. With a frenzy that only alcohol could provide, she upends scoopful after scoopful of dirt. Only trouble is, her shovel is about a third the size of your.
Spearing in and hefting large piles of dirt over his shoulder, Ingram's brow is already beginning to shine, face fairly flushed with both exertion and the alcohol that already is beginning to hit him. He pauses a moment, takes a breath, takes a few drinks, and resumes with a more vigorous pace.
Moving around behind the fallen figure, Aryanne does her best to avoid flying shovel-fulls of dirt as she grasps the figure's cloak by the shoulders, heaving and pulling it out of the way and into a corner of the grave as best as possible before whipping out a cozy quilt depicting a grumpy orpi and laying it over the form's body, protecting them at well from flying clumps of cemetery earth.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure flops awkwardly into the grave's corner, drooling on themselves and staring at nothing in particular.
Suddenly, Ingram's shovel strikes something with a hard 'clink'. He jams a finger at Eiger, a werewolf mercenary with a triumphant "Ha!" before he drops down and paws apart dirt, then reaches in to pull free and snag up a rather boring rock. His face goes flat, he chucks it aside, and silently goes back to digging.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary has worked up a sweat of her own, shouting and swearing at the gravesite as if she could exhume the soil with the power of her voice. A maddened, greedy twinkle in her eye, she continually steals glances at your work, stopping to shout a "No, no!" before seeing it is just a rock.
Truth be told, the two of them have been digging for a long time. In an open grave.
An open grave.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary drops her spade, panting ferociously, her cloak drooping around her head and shoulders. "You... know... I think... if they buried Her... we'd be where She's supposed to be..."
Panting, Ingram stops after a moment longer of feverish digging, slumped over with his arm draped over the handle of his shovel with a hung head. "Maybe she wasn't.. heeghh, ugh, maybe she wasn't even buried here. Could be just a stupid monument." He smacks his shovel in a few more lazy times before chucking it aside.
Ingram blindly pats about for his tankard before snagging the handle and bringing it to his lips.
You drink from a plain tankard with traces of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
You drink from a plain tankard with traces of fiery Ithmian cinnamon whiskey. The whiskey is hot and spicy, the combination of cinnamon and strong alcohol rendering this drink a burning hazard to your taste buds.
Aryanne continues to crouch next to Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure at the dirt's wall until Eiger, a werewolf mercenary's words hit her ear and her head snaps up with a start and she looks to the high, open walls of earth.
Outraged as the prospect of grand adventure - and theft - fizzled before her eyes, Eiger, a werewolf mercenary kicks the dried hand aside.
The ground rumbles.
Aryanne stands up and stretches her arms out wide.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary very quickly shoves the hand back to where it was.
"BRIGHT CAT!" Aryanne cries out with alarm as the integrity of the dirty walls comes into question with the rumbling earth.
Ingram rises to his full height with his drink still held stomach-high. "What was that?" he says quickly.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "That was me not touching that ever again."
Ingram points at Eiger, a werewolf mercenary. "Was that a f****** hand?"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary points at the black hand on the ground. "S'been there the whole time. Did you not see it?"
Jerking her head toward the hand, Aryanne agrees, "You didn't notice? Been here a month at least on."
"No," Ingram mutters, squinting off with a sigh.
No further rumblings follow, which suits Eiger, a werewolf mercenary just fine. Kneeling by Aryanne, she jostles Lorenzo. "Hey. Hey buddy. You didn't die, right?"
Aryanne turns her head up to the walls that surpass her head, softly calling out with hope, "Briiight caaaat! Weh! We juh! We could use mayhaps a ladder..."
With a faint wobble to the right and left, Ingram's face suddenly splits in a grin before he steps over and kneels down. "And yes, we'll lease the room to you for two years with a decrease in rent for no late payments," he says poshly, officially, before reaching in to give the hand a firm shake. "Thank you for your business."
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary unconsciously begins to pat Lorenzo's cloak, looking for valuables.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand lashes out, mysterious talons coiling around Eiger's throat. Their mysterious, glowing red eyes narrow. They sit up, slowly, drool curling on one of their mysterious lips.
Growling, Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "I will end you."
As Ingram touches the hand, the ground shakes again, and a disturbing, guttural creak swells from below, above, and all around.
All of this is too much stimulus for Eiger, a werewolf mercenary to handle. With her hand seized in Lorenzo's tight grip, she screams in alarm.
When he's upended, Ingram falls back still grasping the exposed extremity, giving it a sharp yank as he drop onto his backside.
Aryanne flops and lunges as the ground shakes around and warps, eyes wide and a soft squeal leaving her own lips, "Ingram! Give it the hand!"
Fresh dirt begins to spill into the grave. The walls themselves loom over you, their angle shifting subtly. The lot of you look as if you will be swallowed.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand drops - they stand. They draw their dagger, more on instinct than anything, as it doesn't seem much good for the situation at hand.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure says, "A**. A**. Oh, a**, a**, a**..."
"Assing a**," Eiger, a werewolf mercenary agrees, terrified. "Do you have to keep the hand? Put it back, no reason not to!"
Ingram stumbles up into a stand, the hand still held in his. He glances around abruptly, blinking hard, shaking his head drunkenly. Looking back to the trio, he says, "Huh?"
The walls lean in further, unstoppable now, crumbling and rapidly filling in the grave with dirt.
"THROW THE HAND OUT!" Aryanne insists as she lurches forward, staying to the center of the grave as it threatens to slough in and bury the companions. "She wants it left on and alone-like!"
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary says, "Noooo----."
Aryanne stands up and stretches her arms out wide.
Tremendous waves of soil tumble into the grave, burying you alive, crushing you under so much earthen weight.
You have been slain by a massive grave.
The Hall of the Underking.
There are no obvious exits.
Eiger, a werewolf mercenary was crushed inside a massive grave.
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure was crushed to death inside a massive
grave.
6
Comments
My favourite lines were definitely the various:
Lorenzo, a mysterious cloaked figure's hand lashes out, mysterious talons coiling around Eiger's throat. Their mysterious, glowing red eyes narrow. They sit up, slowly, drool curling on one of their mysterious lips.
Every time one of those popped up, I kept giggling like crazy
Really fun log. A+ work from the divine(s) behind it! Ingram is charming as always and omg Aryanne is just adorable and great. Haven't seen any logs of her before, but what a fun, well-written character!