HYPERBOREA » The Scorched Sanctuary

Iron Ranger · 1/02/2020 9:09 pm

Tetranna rolls 16

spotter · 1/03/2020 4:03 pm

d20: 11

Iron Ranger · 1/03/2020 8:57 pm

Kondor senses a cold wave on the air leaking up from the darkness below carrying a scent of brine.

fireinthedust · 1/04/2020 2:08 pm

Iron Ranger wrote:
Kondor senses a cold wave on the air leaking up from the darkness below carrying a scent of brine.

Kondor whispers back up. "Ooof, there's a stench down there. Brine? If it's submerged, we may need to turn back. Arctic ice is instant death."

He still heads down carefully.

Iron Ranger · 1/04/2020 2:27 pm

Tetranna nods, “I smell it too Barbarian. Do I look in the leaves?”

fireinthedust · 1/04/2020 11:49 pm

Iron Ranger wrote:
Tetranna nods, “I smell it too Barbarian. Do I look in the leaves?”

“Leaves? Here? How?” Kondor frowns. “No, but this place reeks of ghosts and sorcery, which you know well. Be ready to hold that strangeness off so I can kill it with steel. Brine and rot, we’ll have something to kill soon enough!”

He continues down, trusting his sword and barbarian senses to save them from the things lurking below.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 10:35 am

Suddenly Tetranna turns her head. "Halt. What is that howl on the wind? Something approaches behind us, Barbarian!"

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 10:36 am

Ice grips Igrest's throat! He drops the glass cartridge into the snow and pulls at his constricting furs. Gasping and choking he falls to his knees.

A wind picks up from the north, the barks of dogs riding on its crest...

Holy_Rage · 1/05/2020 12:04 pm

The albino man, gurgling on his knees, tries to claw at his throat and only manages a raspy croak. His eyes water and he attempts to stand on his knees, aghast at the barking howls coming from the crest.

Holy_Rage · 1/05/2020 12:28 pm

//An image of Igrest the Pallid.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 1:55 pm

Holy_Rage wrote:
//An image of Igrest the Pallid.

And perhaps soon looking as his newfound friend....

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 2:47 pm

Gundrabu and his dogs slide South down the snow-laden embankment, Kraken itself seeming to push the wind at his back, toward the location of the beacon, now extinguished.

A gurgling sound to his right has the exhausted dogs growling. And the sled's lamplight barely illuminates through the blanket of darkness onto 2 dark figures in the snow blocking a small animal trail winding west toward Shankshill Mountain.

One is still, the other thrashing and grasping at his windpipe!

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 3:17 pm

“By Kraken’s Loving Grasp, Amarok, I do believe we spy another forlorn traveler on this Night-besotted land! Haste, and let us perceive if it prove to be friend or foe.”

Gundrabu flicks the reins, holding them steady in one knotted hand. With the other, he readies his knotted Horseman’s Flail, its eight thongs trembling in suggestion of an octopod. He sleds forward, keeping up his pace.

<i>His intent is to ride by swiftly, while determining, in the glare of lantern-light, if the living figure is friend or foe. If friend, he shall rein in his dogs and assist with the figure’s wounds—Cure Lt Wds is prepared. If foe, he will ride on to the sanctuary, the winds of Kraken at his back.</i>

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 3:28 pm

Eirvit wrote:
“By Kraken’s Loving Grasp, Amarok, I do believe we spy another forlorn traveler on this Night-besotted land! Haste, and let us perceive if it prove to be friend or foe.”

Gundrabu flicks the reins, holding them steady in one knotted hand. With the other, he readies his knotted Horseman’s Flail, its eight thongs trembling in suggestion of an octopod. He sleds forward, keeping up his pace.

<i>His intent is to ride by swiftly, while determining, in the glare of lantern-light, if the living figure is friend or foe. If friend, he shall rein in his dogs and assist with the figure’s wounds—Cure Lt Wds is prepared. If foe, he will ride on to the sanctuary, the winds of Kraken at his back.</i>

The westward animal trail is far too narrow for passage with the dogs and sled...

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 3:29 pm

[Igrest, roll another d20 please.]

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 3:38 pm

“Too narrow,” grumbles Gundrabu. “Cease, Amarok!” [Gundrabu has been saying all of this in Esquimaux, by the way.] He expects to halt within a half move of the figure—that would be 15’ for Gundrabu. Then, if nothing changes, he will leap from the sled, Kraken’s Clinging Tentacles in his right hand, Cure Light Wounds gathering in his left.

ooc: any of you feel like helping me set my custom avatar image? Is there a secret website of which I should know?

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 3:49 pm

The sled blades grind into the packed snow just 15 feet from the collapsed figures. The Common man is obviously dead, half his exposed torso eaten away, but the slender Atlantean albino panics and desperately struggles to gain his footing toward the brave esquimeaux.

His bleached face and hands are burned scars more than flesh. and what's left of his brow is inked with a blood red tattoo of strange mystical symbols. He tears away at his constricting winter furs beneath which Gundrabu spies the orange flash of sorcerer's robes...

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 3:51 pm

Eirvit wrote:
ooc: any of you feel like helping me set my custom avatar image? Is there a secret website of which I should know?

Tiny pic died. I've been using something called imgur which lets me make a direct link to copy paste in. Extra step but works.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 3:57 pm

Holy_Rage · 1/05/2020 4:06 pm

Gnawed from within and seemingly bereft of breath, the young albino man lets out a horrid screech, air forcefully expelled from his mangled throat with a hideous, high-pitched tone.

Eerie, sickly golden-hued eyes gleam as they fix the sled-rider in sheer dread and maddening intensity. He manages to point at his throat with a long, skeletal index, slightly curved towards an unnatural angle, swathes of sickly, snow-white skin dripping from it. A silent plea forms on cracked, taut lips.

[D20 result: rolled a 1...]

Last edited by Holy_Rage (1/05/2020 4:56 pm)