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Post by john on Oct 14, 2009 17:46:22 GMT -5
"It is not my chalice, little one. It was entrusted to you."
He'll walk along in silence, seeming peculiarly tolerant of the brass. At least in the sense he hasn't savagely kicked it.
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Post by Wavyhill on Oct 14, 2009 21:31:02 GMT -5
Sirocco moves to follow.
"Well let's be off then and let the plane be our guide. Nest or waters first - the plane will let us know."
Mumbling to himself: "How can I possibly recall the beauty of this music and this place? I must if I wish to celebrate this story in song."
Trotting up next to Vahn:
"Vahn, is not the hub the center of the wheel? Or perhaps the Signers are right - each of us is the center of our own multiverse! If you want to flap your bone-box and debate you might want to go back to Sigil with me once this is done and bring it up at the Hall of the Speakers. Would be an interesting and stimulating experience, eh?"
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Post by skelterjohn on Oct 15, 2009 5:56:26 GMT -5
The Cipher, ever brief and direct, turns one corner of his smile up a bit more as he offers and acknowledging nod to Jocyl. With a shrug he responds, " Fire is not a place to defy someone you don't know you can defeat." " Good to know betrayal comes from cowardice. I'll keep that in mind next time it might matter," Jocyl says with a slight sarcastic tone, " I'm a healer, I guess...," he shrugs as he falls in line wherever this "taker of blood" puts him. (OOC I'm out of town until Monday, please excuse my silence until (at least) then) |
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Post by TheGratefulNed on Oct 15, 2009 6:44:20 GMT -5
" Good to know betrayal comes from cowardice. I'll keep that in mind next time it might matter," Jocyl says with a slight sarcastic tone Gl'Fnak lets out a good-natured chuckle at Jocyl's words. " Not cowardice, practicality...and the mission." |
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Post by Stix on Oct 16, 2009 10:28:11 GMT -5
At least in the sense he hasn't savagely kicked it. (I'll admit, I laughed aloud.) The bebilith flinches as it is touched, slicing Hadrian's sleeve (and nearly his arm), but lets itself be led toward the open gate of the courtyard. Father Cedric looks on silently. " Why have I been called?" the bebilith asks, its "voice" a telepathic grating inside one's skull (though less hateful and enraged than the last time, for those who've heard it before). " Am I to be punished for my guilt?" |
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Post by exile on Oct 16, 2009 11:33:39 GMT -5
"There is no knowing what will become of us, until it comes to pass," Hadrian replied, evidently in a philosophical frame of mind. "But come, for the moment all that is asked of you is that you walk beside us. The deva is dying and for now that need be our only concern. Does that satisfy you?"
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Post by Tllith on Oct 16, 2009 12:15:27 GMT -5
" Why have I been called?" the bebilith asks, its "voice" a telepathic grating inside one's skull (though less hateful and enraged than the last time, for those who've heard it before). " Am I to be punished for my guilt?" Ow! Itchy conversation! Tllith scratches her head with a hind leg, quadruped style, while Hadrian answers. That doesn't help. Still, itchy conversation is conversation, and there's nothing more important to a brass dragon (with the possible exception of acting as cool as Hadrian). "I don't think so, Abaia. This isn't a very punishy monastery. Unless you sing harmonies or breathe in a festival or something. I think we're just going to help you not be guilty of killing Ybdiel. And help him not be guilty of killing you, too. You can punish yourself afterwards if you want, I suppose." She unwisely tries to ask a very ordinary question. "What do you like to do?" |
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Post by Stix on Oct 17, 2009 0:20:29 GMT -5
" There is no knowing what will become of us, until it comes to pass," Hadrian replied, evidently in a philosophical frame of mind. " But come, for the moment all that is asked of you is that you walk beside us. The deva is dying and for now that need be our only concern. Does that satisfy you?" " The deva needs help," the bebilith answers simply. "I don't think so, Abaia. This isn't a very punishy monastery. Unless you sing harmonies or breathe in a festival or something. I think we're just going to help you not be guilty of killing Ybdiel. And help him not be guilty of killing you, too. You can punish yourself afterwards if you want, I suppose." She unwisely tries to ask a very ordinary question. "What do you like to do?" " Punishment must be swift. I should be destroyed for the things that bring me joy. Why do you not make me suffer?" Abaia is genuinely confused and disoriented, looking from Hadrian to Tllith to all the others in turn. |
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Post by Tllith on Oct 17, 2009 7:53:46 GMT -5
" Punishment must be swift. I should be destroyed for the things that bring me joy. Why do you not make me suffer?" Abaia is genuinely confused and disoriented, looking from Hadrian to Tllith to all the others in turn. explains Tllith, if you interpret the word "explains" generously. "Elysium isn't really very much about suffering. We aren't very good at it here. But you can do that afterwards if you want." |
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Post by TheGratefulNed on Oct 17, 2009 9:49:17 GMT -5
Gl'Fnak follows at the end of the group, but makes certain to stay close enough to hear the conversation. "You are not to be punished. The balance is to be restored." The Baatorian nods sagely at the hatchling dragon's words. Even if they weren't perfect, and were profuse, she showed some depth to herself.
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Post by TheGratefulNed on Oct 17, 2009 10:19:50 GMT -5
Nuuko's long legs quickly pull him away from the group. His running is graceful and long-strided, it looks as natural to him as breathing. While he runs, the long bow - made of sun-bleached and sand-smoothed bone - is gripped in his left hand. He holds a nocked obsidian arrow on the shelf with one long index finger.
After a minute or two of running, he realizes that he has outstripped Xianna and that the rest of the group is now quite a ways off. Pausing at the top of a small rise, he surveys the landscape while waiting for the tiefling woman to catch up.
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Post by artemis on Oct 17, 2009 11:02:50 GMT -5
Encumbered as she was, she knew it was a bad idea to volunteer to scout with Nuuko. But she didn't want to be with the rest of the group. She knew the babbling of Tllith would eventually make her snap. She was relieved a little when she saw Nuuko stop, she wasn't breathless but she was getting winded. When she gets to the top of the rise she asks, "Well, do your elven eyes see something I don't"
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Post by john on Oct 17, 2009 18:50:10 GMT -5
John just listens to the chattering with fairly good nature for him, contributing nothing, but loading a bolt into his crossbow and just moving onward.
When the Bebilith asks why we do not make him suffer he finally says something, in a grating tone.
"Nobody is paying me to make you suffer."
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Post by skelterjohn on Oct 18, 2009 21:30:35 GMT -5
John just listens to the chattering with fairly good nature for him, contributing nothing, but loading a bolt into his crossbow and just moving onward. When the Bebilith asks why we do not make him suffer he finally says something, in a grating tone. "Nobody is paying me to make you suffer." Jocyl snorts at John's comment. " Dead on the inside as well as the outside, eh? I wonder, what did you get in return for your soul?" He turns to the fiend, " As for you, the guilt you feel no doubt comes from the rejection of your true nature. Not that your true nature is worth much in the first place." After a moment of thoughtfulness, Jocyl says, loud enough for everyone to hear, " You all had best watch out. The moment we fix this addled deva, we're going to have a fairly rambunctious fiend on our hands. I won't be the one to take it down, that much is for sure." |
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Post by john on Oct 19, 2009 10:38:01 GMT -5
"There are some things that have yet to be bartered." John replies, his eyes going very flat as he stares at Jocyl.
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Post by Stix on Oct 19, 2009 12:49:28 GMT -5
Abaia seems almost satisfied with Jocyl's answer, if disheartened. " Please, wait!" calls a voice from up the hill. A brown-haired, rough-hewn man jogging down the hill waves to get the group's attention. " I'm sorry to slow you down, bashers: I brought my tribute to the monastery just this morning, and Father Cedric told me to take it straight to you. I'd meant these to be for the guardian golems, but it sounds like you'll need them more." As he catches up, the pilgrim slings a pack from his back onto the ground, untying and unrolling it, revealing a light javelin, a throwing knife, a shortsword, a hatchet, a sickle and a gunsen. Each one bears the distinctive sheen of silver. " I hope they'll serve you well," he says with a nod and a smile, making his way back up toward the monastery. |
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Post by TheGratefulNed on Oct 19, 2009 13:43:23 GMT -5
As the unexpected voice hails them from behind, Gl'Fnak swivels promptly on one hoof and his sword hand jumps to the hilt of a sheathed longsword over his right shoulder, the black jewels in the cross-guard and pommel glistening against the matte steel, while his off-hand raises, vaguely pointing at the approaching figure with a strange contortion of fingers.
As it becomes apparent that the man is not a threat, the tiefling visibly relaxes, lowering both hands to their respective sides. The Cipher arches the row of green rings that serves as his left eyebrow and silently appraises the assortment of weapons laid out before them. His eyes then roam in turn to each of the others in the group.
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Post by Tllith on Oct 19, 2009 14:24:26 GMT -5
"There are some things that have yet to be bartered." John replies, his eyes going very flat as he stares at Jocyl. Tllith steps next to John and spreads her wings protectively, not that it does any good. She loyally, if incoherently, hisses, "He's still got his soul! Maybe he's even got two!" |
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Post by skelterjohn on Oct 19, 2009 14:25:38 GMT -5
Jocyl leers at the assortment of blades for a moment, and then steps forward stretching one linen-wrapped arm and palm out to the short sword.
"To the extent that I use a weapon, I suppose it would be this one," he says while examining the weapon, putting on a show of knowing what it is all about. "Yes indeed. This is a sharp short sword." He then searches for a place inside his cloak to store it, and eventually slips it into his belt immediately next to another similarly shaped blade in a scabbard.
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Post by john on Oct 19, 2009 17:51:57 GMT -5
John blinks at Tllith, then says "No, just one soul. I don't trade in those. Too difficult to acquire and the people who want them aren't liable to let you make much in the way of profit."
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