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Post by Stix on Feb 12, 2010 0:36:30 GMT -5
Travel Time
[dice=4] hours[rand=78336407295913163129818165532620752650113889662037266826736196524]
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Post by Stix on Feb 12, 2010 0:53:37 GMT -5
After risking life and limb defending the bebilith, the group arrives at a ring of low hills surrounding a fog-shrouded lake. Even the midday sun and ever-present sweet breeze do nothing to clear the mists, which, while neither ominous nor threatening, make no pretense of being inviting.
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Post by Tllith on Feb 12, 2010 17:34:34 GMT -5
After risking life and limb defending the bebilith, the group arrives at a ring of low hills surrounding a fog-shrouded lake. Even the midday sun and ever-present sweet breeze do nothing to clear the mists, which, while neither ominous nor threatening, make no pretense of being inviting. Tllith peers at the lake curiously. This induces in her a fit of blithering (though it is hardly the only thing that does so). "It's foggy. It's very foggy. Is this the lake we're supposed to go to? I think it is serene. I wonder if any serenes live here? Maybe we should stuff wax in our ears. I am very lucky to have external ears. Most dragons just have little holes to hear through. I think I hear better than most dragons! Because I have very big ears." She flaps her ears, trying to clear some of the fog away. Then she flaps her wings, also trying to clear some of the fog away. "It won't go anywhere! Why won't it go anywhere? Who heard of fog that wouldn't go anywhere! It is not even going on the plants! We can't eat this fog! It is lunchtime, and we cannot eat this fog! Oh, no!" |
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Post by john on Feb 14, 2010 19:59:33 GMT -5
John will travel along in silence, nodding every now and then at Tllith, letting his silence and movements speak for him.
"mmm. We will just have to eat food then."
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Post by Stix on Feb 15, 2010 18:58:28 GMT -5
The ground is a bit marshy in spots, both from closeness to the lake and the recent rainfall. Wading into the fog drops visibility to a matter of a few yards. From the ground, it's difficult even to make out Abaia's head as she (for such a large creature) delicately navigates the soft ground.
Without warning, the namesake serenity of the place is broken by a canine baying sound from somewhere not too far off. In the distance, another such call is sounded in an eerie, dissonant harmony with the first... then another, and another, until it becomes difficult to count the bestial voices joining in the foreboding song....
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Post by john on Feb 15, 2010 21:21:31 GMT -5
"Get your blades ready. That might not be friendly. Then again, it might be. What do you think, Tlilith?"
John grasps at his bastard sword, loosening it in the sheath a bit.
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Post by exile on Feb 16, 2010 23:14:29 GMT -5
Lost amid the all consuming mists like a berk afloat in the border ethereal, Hadrian slowed his step and bent his ear towards the cries. Shadows drifted in and out of vision, coalesced into forms and faces, and were soon swallowed up again.
"Ready our blades to strike at what?" he muttered aloud, though it was unclear if the aasimar was expecting a response. In either event he made no move towards his weapons, staring straight ahead instead, eyes straining to part the fog.10
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Post by Tllith on Feb 19, 2010 22:31:19 GMT -5
"Get your blades ready. That might not be friendly. Then again, it might be. What do you think, Tlilith?" Tllith listens closely! She will share whatever she learns, albeit run through her usual conversational puree cycle. [Possibly relevant features: she's got Keen Hearing, Animal Empathy, and the racial ability to talk with animals, plus of course she's lived in Elysium since she hatched and has Observation (in particular, is good about recalling details).] |
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Post by arcanumzero on Feb 23, 2010 10:58:13 GMT -5
"It won't go anywhere! Why won't it go anywhere? Who heard of fog that wouldn't go anywhere! It is not even going on the plants! We can't eat this fog! It is lunchtime, and we cannot eat this fog! Oh, no!" His ever-present grin a rictus, Ghaeldan squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the pierced bridge of his nose, saying nothing. Without warning, the namesake serenity of the place is broken by a canine baying sound from somewhere not too far off. In the distance, another such call is sounded in an eerie, dissonant harmony with the first... then another, and another, until it becomes difficult to count the bestial voices joining in the foreboding song.... " Frostbite and fever," Ghaeldan finally snaps, plugging his long ears with his index fingers. " I understood the upper planes were supposed to be soothing. Why else would weakling workers of weal harbor such holiness? My poor pate is like to split asunder! Silence, slavering hounds of heaven! You'll fail to find a feast of fiendish flesh in this foul fen!" |
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Post by Tllith on Feb 27, 2010 14:42:46 GMT -5
" Frostbite and fever," Ghaeldan finally snaps, plugging his long ears with his index fingers. " I understood the upper planes were supposed to be soothing. Why else would weakling workers of weal harbor such holiness? My poor pate is like to split asunder! Silence, slavering hounds of heaven! You'll fail to find a feast of fiendish flesh in this foul fen!" Tllith helpfully adds, "Or if you're fool enough to fall on us, we'll flagellate your fishy feet with flails and flatten your faux-feline fur with four fervent fiery fairy flagpoles! We'll fry your prying eyes with flying pies 'til you sigh and cry and die!" She glances at Ghaeldan. "Did that come out OK? I'm really great at this kind of talking! Wasn't it great?" |
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Post by john on Feb 28, 2010 20:33:37 GMT -5
John just waits, silent for the moment as Tllith blithers on like the amusing little flibbertygibbet she is.
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Post by Tllith on Mar 1, 2010 8:51:53 GMT -5
John just waits, silent for the moment as Tllith blithers on like the amusing little flibbertygibbet she is. (Hey! Those gibbets won't flibber themselves, you know!) |
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Post by arcanumzero on Mar 9, 2010 11:39:54 GMT -5
Tllith helpfully adds, "Or if you're fool enough to fall on us, we'll flagellate your fishy feet with flails and flatten your faux-feline fur with four fervent fiery fairy flagpoles! We'll fry your prying eyes with flying pies 'til you sigh and cry and die!" She glances at Ghaeldan. "Did that come out OK? I'm really great at this kind of talking! Wasn't it great?"“ What?” Ghaeldan asks, blinking. “ No, no, no, you’re rattling all wrong,” he continues, shaking his head gingerly. He continues to explain, obviously glad for the momentary distraction from his illness. “ The challenge is in chanting as pithily as possible, while working in words that start with the same sounds. You can’t go making things up like ‘fishy feet’ or ‘faux-feline,’ or ‘four fiery… faerie…’ whatever that last one was. They’re dogs, so you say things like ‘bone-biters,’ or ‘wolf-whelps.’ And it doesn’t matter if the words rhyme. Anyone can rhyme. Rhyming is easy. Poetry is art. It duly divides us from common creatures!” |
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Post by Tllith on Mar 10, 2010 15:48:08 GMT -5
“ What?” Ghaeldan asks, blinking. “ No, no, no, you’re rattling all wrong,” he continues, shaking his head gingerly. He continues to explain, obviously glad for the momentary distraction from his illness. “ The challenge is in chanting as pithily as possible, while working in words that start with the same sounds. You can’t go making things up like ‘fishy feet’ or ‘faux-feline,’ or ‘four fiery… faerie…’ whatever that last one was. They’re dogs, so you say things like ‘bone-biters,’ or ‘wolf-whelps.’ And it doesn’t matter if the words rhyme. Anyone can rhyme. Rhyming is easy. Poetry is art. It duly divides us from common creatures!” " Oh, no! How do I poetry? What if I'm a common creature? I'm a dull dragon! Is that common?"" |
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