HYPERBOREA » The Scorched Sanctuary

fireinthedust · 1/05/2020 4:29 pm

Kondor grunts at the interruption so close to the end of his vengeance, and the thought that he might be held back by some sorcery of this place.

Yet he pushes back up the staircase and looks for the source of the noise.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 4:54 pm

fireinthedust wrote:
Kondor grunts at the interruption so close to the end of his vengeance, and the thought that he might be held back by some sorcery of this place.

Yet he pushes back up the staircase and looks for the source of the noise.

Tetranna turns back. “Wisdom barbarian. We can’t afford to be surprised wedged inside this wall! Follow magic thief. Something wicked is afoot!”

She spills out into the room of hanging mauraders.

The wind whips the the tent I the doorway. And barks from dogs are nearby on the wind.

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 4:56 pm

Fearing madness in this person, Gundrabu walks forth slowly, keeping his flail well behind the edge of his body, his healing hand stretched before him. "You need some help, son? Khalk-Xu's Crushing Grasp is the blessed end of us all, but perhaps it is not your time yet." Gundrabu glances at the chewed-upon carcass. "All Life must eat, son. It is the way of the Cosmos. Come, do you require Healing, or just food?"

Gundrabu's portly husky form is made all the larger by a fur jacket with a hood. From the midst of the hood peers a deeply scarred and furrowed brown face with narrow, black eyes. A scraggly long black mustache and beard, rimmed with condensation from his exhalations, dribble out of it, as well.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 5:11 pm

Gundrabu sees a flame burning in the choking madman’s palm as he points to his throat....

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 5:51 pm

[Gundrabu’s player is not sure if the albino is pointing at Gundrabu’s throat or at the albino’s own.]

If the former, Gundrabu says, in Common, wondering if he still was speaking Esquimaux when he spoke to the man before, “Best put that hand down, son. I still have some preaching yet to perform for Khalk-xu.” His right hand tightens on the haft of his flail.

If the latter, he says, “Something wrong with your throat, son? Come forth. Step gently. I have the Salve of the Salty Seas in this palm.”

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 6:34 pm

Eirvit wrote:
[Gundrabu’s player is not sure if the albino is pointing at Gundrabu’s throat or at the albino’s own.]

If the former, Gundrabu says, in Common, wondering if he still was speaking Esquimaux when he spoke to the man before, “Best put that hand down, son. I still have some preaching yet to perform for Khalk-xu.” His right hand tightens on the haft of his flail.

If the latter, he says, “Something wrong with your throat, son? Come forth. Step gently. I have the Salve of the Salty Seas in this palm.”

The albino points at his own throat. His impossible alabaster skin turning blue. His eyes bulge. There is no steam at his gaping mouth as are the plumes at Gundrabu’s own.

Holy_Rage · 1/05/2020 7:08 pm

The man's screeching and wet, horrid gurgle is now reduced to a mere whimper. The frail, strange man's chest was heaving moments ago frantically; now it simply spasms every now at then, at seemingly random intervals, gusts of air bursting out of the man's impossibly opened mouth. Few, if any noise comes out of it, saliva starts dripping freely down the taut, bloodless lips and his bulging eyes become unfocused. His limbs seem equally to lose focus and droop listlessly at his sides, the fiery red-orange robes of the albino billowing violently in the frigid wind.

If the man's understanding of the Esquimaux or Common tongue, as queried by the Kraken's own, would receive an answer, it seems that Gundrabu shall not hear of it immediately. With a sudden lurch, the young robed man collapses into the icy trail face-first and his body simply jerks violently every now and then.

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 7:10 pm

[crossed posts. Should be easy now to do what I want.

d6 4
d12 9
d20 16

If some sort of roll is needed.]

It all becomes clear to Gundrabu! Healing won’t save this man. This man is choking, perhaps on a grizzly repast. He has seen this on the Plains of Leng when men have been too eager after the desperation of starvation.

Letting the Kraken’s Healing Tentacles retract into his spirit, Gundrabu leaps forward with the aim of wrestling the albino into a hold that would allow him to expel the obstruction with a sharp push to the man’s diaphragm. As Gundrabu moves, he also glances across the man’s form, in the flickering lantern-light, for the hilt of a dagger or the handle of a knife. It might come to that: he might need to pierce the throat beneath the obstruction. Perhaps he even could carve it out, heal the man afterward.

Last edited by Eirvit (1/05/2020 7:12 pm)

Holy_Rage · 1/05/2020 7:21 pm

The man's body is skeletal and almost bears no weight, as if the emaciated youth holds no muscle or strength upon him. Lanky limbs and curbed torso are easily manipulated by the fur-clad man into the desired hold. A few sharp pushes later, it seems that the man's condition has not improved. Rather, a faint trickle of blood runs down the marble-like nose of the finely-clad albino, his eloquent, regal features sharply at odds with the icy grime and blood now covering a good part of his face.

Upon closer scrutiny, the man's brow carries an intricate fiery-red tattoo of a majestic, blazing Sun dominating over the Cosmos. The glorious Sun tattoo is ringed by a series of intricate sigils and runes, interwoven harmoniously with stars, planets and other celestial bodies, most pleasing to the eye and wholesome. Gundrabu would also realise that the man's throat is most violently swollen, a ring of fine ice having formed around it and that the icy clasp has turned the fine flesh around it marred and purple, as if great pressure were applied by the ring on flesh and organs interior alike.

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 7:31 pm

“Oh, Crafty Kraken, please spare this man so that he might become another Arm in Your Holy Girth.” Gundrabu abruptly stands, dropping his flail so that he may more expeditiously unshoulder his pack, removing from it a torch even as he strides to his lifted lantern. He opens a glass door in the lantern and lights the brand, moving just as swiftly back to the fallen figure. He remembers the flames in the albino’s hand.

“Come back,” he whispers, bringing the torch-flame near to the band of ice and swollen throat—cautiously, at first, mostly so as to not extinguish the flame through direct contact with the ice, then, if he sees no immediate, relieving result, he will apply the heat more closely and directly, expecting to later close any resulting wound.

Last edited by Eirvit (1/05/2020 7:34 pm)

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 8:35 pm

Eirvit wrote:
“Oh, Crafty Kraken, please spare this man so that he might become another Arm in Your Holy Girth.” Gundrabu abruptly stands, dropping his flail so that he may more expeditiously unshoulder his pack, removing from it a torch even as he strides to his lifted lantern. He opens a glass door in the lantern and lights the brand, moving just as swiftly back to the fallen figure. He remembers the flames in the albino’s hand.

“Come back,” he whispers, bringing the torch-flame near to the band of ice and swollen throat—cautiously, at first, mostly so as to not extinguish the flame through direct contact with the ice, then, if he sees no immediate, relieving result, he will apply the heat more closely and directly, expecting to later close any resulting wound.

Gundrabu realizes no effect from the warmth of his lantern near the albino's throat! As the choking man's eyes roll back into his head, Gundrabu flails for a dagger and spies one laying in the snow, its thick hilt unscrewed from its blade and an empty glass cartridge beside!

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 8:45 pm

“Perhaps force is required.” Gundrabu seizes the blade and attempts to jam it under the ring of ice. He knows the man is in dire peril, so takes no great care to spare the flesh beneath the freeze. Once under the ring, he tries to break it, moving the blade up and down and angling a sharp edge—hopefully there’s just one—against the ice.

[if rolls are required, I’ll use any in #2208, if they work.]

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 8:55 pm

Eirvit wrote:
“Perhaps force is required.” Gundrabu seizes the blade and attempts to jam it under the ring of ice. He knows the man is in dire peril, so takes no great care to spare the flesh beneath the freeze. Once under the ring, he tries to break it, moving the blade up and down and angling a sharp edge—hopefully there’s just one—against the ice.

[if rolls are required, I’ll use any in #2208, if they work.]

The hilt being removed makes the blade ineffective; whatever accumulated ice is removed, but the man is unconscious, not breathing, and his tongue is black and swollen and hanging out of his mouth!

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 9:09 pm

[Okay, I’m about out of ideas. I think I want to clarify the situation.

1. I want it to be clear that I tried to melt the ice with a lit torch in one hand. I would guess, as well, that a warm lantern would be ineffective.

2. So I have a torch in one hand now, probably my left, and a blade in the right.]

”Cunning Khalk-xu,” grumbles Gundrabu in Esquimaux, “you bless me always with such Terrible Tests.” He props his torch upright against the half-eaten carcass, then commences to screw the blade back into its handle, ignoring the vial.

Then he will try again, as described earlier, praying all the while to Kraken that he might have an opportunity at converting one more living man (but not choosing to admit to himself that his faith in the man recovering, right now, is ebbing).

If he is unable to do anything productive with the dagger, Gundrabu will search both bodies, beginning with the dead one—in any remaining clothing and on the ground on it or around it, for clues of what might have caused this phenomenon. The idea that something has caused the ice and then vanished lacks clear form in Gundrabu’s mind.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 9:14 pm

Understood. The torch melts away any remaining ice and snow form the albino's neck. A white foam issuing from the unconscious Atlantean's swollen mouth glistens in this torchlight.

Eirvit · 1/05/2020 9:17 pm

[Yessss! Thanks for the break, Ref!]

Brushing away all the foam and crumbling ice, Gundrabu commences to give mouth-to-mouth, thinking, “Forgive my doubts, Great Kraken. Now please fill him with all the bubbly air of your mighty Oceans.”

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 9:21 pm

The briny breath of the Kraken moves from his faithful servant and floods the lungs of the young lifeless Atlantean.
The chest rises with each blow!

[Gundrabu add 50 XP. (dont forget 10 % bonus = 55.]

Last edited by Iron Ranger (1/05/2020 9:34 pm)

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 9:26 pm

Tetranna, Sol, and Kondor run out into the courtyard.

The yipping of the dogs is constant.

There is a stationary lantern light in the darkness beyond the cemetery gates!
And a torch drops to the snow just beyond!

"What do we do, Barbarian?" the Ixian shaman cries!

fireinthedust · 1/05/2020 10:55 pm

Iron Ranger wrote:
Tetranna, Sol, and Kondor run out into the courtyard.

The yipping of the dogs is constant.

There is a stationary lantern light in the darkness beyond the cemetery gates!
And a torch drops to the snow just beyond!

"What do we do, Barbarian?" the Ixian shaman cries!

"A lantern, and a torch? Flames mean mortals. Whether friend or foe, we'll have answers. Be ready for battle or trickery, but make haste!"

He tries to manage as well as he can with the storm, leading Tetranna as safely as he can, given she's Ixian and not a Kimmerian like himself.

Iron Ranger · 1/05/2020 11:01 pm

fireinthedust wrote:
Iron Ranger wrote:
Tetranna, Sol, and Kondor run out into the courtyard.

The yipping of the dogs is constant.

There is a stationary lantern light in the darkness beyond the cemetery gates!
And a torch drops to the snow just beyond!

"What do we do, Barbarian?" the Ixian shaman cries!
"A lantern, and a torch? Flames mean mortals. Whether friend or foe, we'll have answers. Be ready for battle or trickery, but make haste!"

He tries to manage as well as he can with the storm, leading Tetranna as safely as he can, given she's Ixian and not a Kimmerian like himself.

Kondor points his lantern and sword through the cemetery. Sol and Tetranna stay close behind. Beside them desecrated earth is upturned at the headstones, deep holes where once faithful priests slumbered.

The gate hangs open, and beyond 100 yards on the western trail to the great Shankshill mtn, a ramshackle wooden sled holds 3 large furred dogs. They turn at the intrusion and take their barks to new levels.

Fifteen feet beyond 3 dark figures are slumped around a torch aflame...

Last edited by Iron Ranger (1/05/2020 11:02 pm)