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#485607 ZONE - The Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar

Posted by Sareth on 16 September 2017 - 12:04 PM

"Nice to see you again. Can you read any of this...?"


"Not most of it" Allya replied, too distracted by her work to return the greeting. "But this"---she showed the templar one of the blood-marked sheets---"says 'Xiraloc sleeps here now'. Look for more like it, would you?"


The next bloodstained paper she found said the same thing. And the next. And the next. The same cryptic message, over and over...


But after much searching Malvolio handed her another defaced document---and the message on this one, she saw at a glance, was different: 'Xiraloc eater of spirits bow before him.


Her brow crinkled as she read the statement again, certain she had to have misread it---or at least wishing she had. There was no mistake. Was it possible, she wondered, for there to be a demon so powerful---or otherwise anomalous---that it could claim not just the souls of sinners, but the innocent spirits of nature itself. She desperately wanted to say no, but she couldn't forget that utter emptiness where the spirits of this place should have been.


"What does it say? Is it something we should warn the others about?"


She gave a single, harsh laugh---utterly without mirth. The idea of a warning struck her as almost ludicrous at this point. They had had their warning back in Skaldsong Tavern when Agni had described this place and what had happened to it. And none of them had listened


"It says 'Xiraloc eater of spirits bow before him" she said after a moment. "Which means, unless this writing is the mere delusional ramblings of some insane demon, that somewhere in this place lies a monster unlike anything mortals have ever seen... and lived, anyways."




"Recognize anything?" Valya asked Korvarl, looking at the heaps of treasure locked away.


"Any ideas on opening these doors?" She supposed it was too much to hope that the locks had rusted into fragility after all these years of neglect. Still, sheathing her sword, she went over to the nearest door and gave a powerful tug on it, although she was ready to jump out of the way in case these dwarfs went in for booby traps.

#485484 Errant continuation

Posted by Sareth on 07 September 2017 - 08:13 AM

Well, I'm sorry the RP idea I put a lot of time into developing was too generic and boring for you to check out.


Maybe you should take a look at the topic I created for creating generic adventure/exploration Errant campaigns and see if there's one that interests you more, you know, as long as the topic doesn't put you to sleep first.


There's even a new poll option, so don't forget to revote so I can figure out what generic/boring Errant campaign I can waste time planning out and pming Wolfy about just so you guys can ignore it and leave it for dead!


Geez, Dalton, don't take things so personally. My point was that I had already signed up for another RP of that type (Delving Too Deep), and hence wasn't really in the mood to do a second one; I don have an infinite capacity for RP-ing.


And I did vote in that topic of yours--several days ago. And if other people are interested in the same one I am, I would play it.


It's not like the entire world's against you here.

#485472 Errant continuation

Posted by Sareth on 06 September 2017 - 08:55 AM

So other than finishing Delving Too Deep, what would everyone like to see from Errant at this point? I'm up for literally anything, as long as it'll get people interested and having fun again.


I would go with a story/character-focused campaign, preferably centered on one faction or another so as to have a relatively homogeneous and motivated group.


Like the Inquisitor or Venatori campaigns from the last poll. Or something else in that vein (we always seem to focus on the more magical Imperial orders, maybe a campaign focusing on a group of Imperial knights/legionnaires could be interesting for a change).

#485338 Game of Thrones: What about Ygritte, Jon?

Posted by Sareth on 14 August 2017 - 10:21 AM

And so the Ballad has ended, before it was truly begun.

Not quite. For you see, I have discovered a long-lost copy of the actual, totally 100%-legit, original Ballad of Dickon Tarly, written by George R.R. Martin (before he decided to change the lyrics and make it the Lannister theme song instead):
"And who are you," Drogon said, "to stand before my wrath?"
"I am Dickon, of House Tarly. And you can kiss my ***."
"Through a coat of mail, or plates of steel, dragon fire burns all."
"I care not, we Tarlys shall never kneel to y'all."
And so he burned, and so he burned, that Dickon of Tarly.
And now his corpse is charred to ash, and no one really cares.
Yes now his corpse is charred to ash, and not a soul cares.
But yeah, it was a good episode. :P
Oh, yeah. I was wondering:



Also: I really hope that next episode


#485330 Game of Thrones: What about Ygritte, Jon?

Posted by Sareth on 12 August 2017 - 08:47 PM

But then you can just cut off all your greyscale and be fine.


Except for the fact, as I mentioned before, that it doesn't always work.


Also, let me put it this way: Would you want to have large portions of your skin flayed off? (Remember, flaying? That thing the Boltons do as horrific torture?)


... Actually, that would be a great idea: the Citadel could hire Boltons (assuming there are any still alive) to perform the procedure; they'd probably be great at it. (Plus they're all evil jerks, and thus totally expendable. :P )


And even thousands of years later, instead of trying to develop a safer procedure (or just wear gloves), we just shipped everyone who caught smallpox to an island?


Ahem: leper colonies.


I mean, greyscale is basically just fantasy leprosy.


No, wait, even the idea that cutting off the scales fixes you is ludicrous. I am not a doctor, but I am so close to being positive that that isn't how diseases work. We're talking about something that was going to worm its way into Jorah's brain within months; there's no way it's just a skin disease.


Actually, that part made perfect sense to me. The impression I got (it's not like the books or show ever really explain how this disease works) was that greyscale first attacks the skin (where the first symptoms appear) and then slowly works its way inward.


Let's use skin cancer as a comparison. Skin cancer starts confined to the skin (hence the name :P ). However, if left untreated long enough it can metastasize, spreading inward to other organs—which is when it gets really serious. If caught early, when it's confined to the skin, it can often be easily treated by removing the cancerous tissue (and possibly also treating with radiation/chemo).


Jorah had not started suffering any mental effects—the only known internal symptom—yet (unless you're counting his continuing to pine over Dany :lol: ). Therefore we could assume that the greyscale had not started to move inward much yet. In that case, not only should it be treatable, but removing the scales would actually be necessary: the scaly skin is already dead or hopelessly infected, so you have to fight the infection where it's still doing damage—in the tissue underneath. Thus, you remove the flesh that's a lost cause, and apply the cure (the ointment stuff) to the underlying flesh that still has a chance.


Another comparison would be the way serious (third-degree plus) burns are treated to prevent infection: by debriding the damaged skin that's never going to heal—and which makes a prime site for infections to start—and treating the undamaged tissue beneath it.



Now, I'm not saying your complaints are without merit: It is kind of absurd that Sam so conveniently found the cure and managed to do it perfectly without any training. However, IMO, it's better than if they stretched it out for most of the season—they've got better stuff to focus on. Also, I don't hate Jorah like you apparently do, so it doesn't bother me too much. :P


Although I will agree that the Lady Mormont is a total BAMF. If all the (likable) main characters were to die (it's GRRM, you can never tell) she would totally be my pick for who gets the iron throne. :D

#485328 Game of Thrones: What about Ygritte, Jon?

Posted by Sareth on 12 August 2017 - 05:05 PM

I like that the magical secret of curing Greyscale is "Well, you just, like, cut it off, man". I guess nobody thought to try that for thousands of years?


Um, what? :blink:


Did you miss all the times it was explicitly stated that this had been done before? Like, the part where Sam found the method in a book which was written by a guy WHO HAD DONE IT MULTIPLE TIMES? And the part where the Citadel had specifically banned its practice because a) it doesn't always work, and b) it's horribly dangerous to the person performing it? (one tiny piece of all that skin you're painfully cutting off a guy touches you, and congratulations—you have greyscale!)


Also, after cutting off the skin, you had to apply the Colonel's Maester's secret recipe of spices antibacterial cream. :P

#485308 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Sareth on 07 August 2017 - 05:23 PM

I feel like, once again, trying to go light on the story and heavy on the adventure didn't work out.


Anyone still invested in this, or should I spend my time working on other things instead and just call this a wash?


I may need to take a break from DMing for a while, and then I'll run something more story-driven that'll hopefully keep people interested and force more interaction.


I mean... I wouldn't say you're wrong about that... (when the only real goal is "adventure" or "fer de lootz!" character motivations can become difficult to come by).


That said, if at least a few ppl. are still up for it, I'm willing to try continuing it. But, if you really need a break, I also understand.


But maybe during that break we could keep the tavern thing going (well, get it going again) so that we don't forget the language of men (or elves... or dwarves... you get the point!) in the meantime. :D

#485217 ZONE: The Rusty Axe

Posted by Sareth on 12 July 2017 - 08:20 PM

"Caiden's been a good friend of mine for years... I was hoping to find him again at some point, but I haven't had any luck yet."


"Yeah, we do tend to travel a lot. There're members of the order I haven't seen in over a year" Hollí replied with a slight shrug. "But that's the job."


She took another sip of her drink before setting it down—on the opposite side of her from Lydus; she had noticed his greedy hand's stealthy groping.


"Well, I suppose if you ran towards any rumors of monster activity, sooner or later you'd cross his path" she said after a moment. "Not that I would normally recommend that—or even not seriously advise against it—but... Given your reputation, I guess you would probably be fine" she said with a cheeky grin.


"I'd certainly say so. Their culture is just as ancient as Old Achaea, and there's a lot of rich history to be around... But if you go too far out of civilization, you'd better really like sand."


"Hmm... I dunno, I've never really seen much sand. It's funny: thirty-eight years in the order, and I've only ever been sent on assignments in the Empire and the North. Well, maybe one of these days..."


A moment later she was distracted as the food was finally served. "Thank you" she said as her pie was set before her—managing to maintain her manners in the face of her hunger and the tantalizing smell wafting off of the food. "How much will that be?" she asked the serving girl, reaching for her coinpurse.


“By the gods, you two are going to clean this place’s supply of meat out for weeks.”


"Well, you can eat lesser fare if you want. But when a girl's hungry, she needs real, serious food" she retorted to her impolite colleague. She lifted her fork, digging it into the pie and—


“There’s gotta be somethin’ else to eat here, right, wench?"


Hollí paused, a dripping slice of pie—too large for the fork it precariously balanced on—halfway to her mouth, and rolled her eyes in exasperation. She turned to Lydus: "Look, if I buy you a meal, or another drink, will you be polite and shut up?" she asked bluntly.

#485163 Tales from the Rusty Axe (Now in Wulfgard!)

Posted by Sareth on 06 July 2017 - 01:22 PM

An elf walks into a bar.... and takes a seat. Not a joke, just what happened. :P


Hey, Venators are always supposed to be in pairs. :D

#485162 ZONE: The Rusty Axe

Posted by Sareth on 06 July 2017 - 01:19 PM

"There's some water in the horse trough outside. I hear that's free."


“Give your tongue a break an’ have some of that, why don’t you?”


"Lowering the quality of another establishment, Lydus?" a sweet voice said from the doorway—possibly confusing any lookers until they lowered their gaze a bit. The Venatori order was not an exceptionally large one, and she had been in it for quite some time; Hollí prided herself on knowing most of its members—by reputation, if nothing else. Identifying Lydus had taken but an instant.


All sub-five-feet of fiery-haired elf quickly made her way to the bar, hopping up on a stool—literally; she had to give herself a boost up with her hands. Stupid tall human stools...—pointedly taking one of the couple between Lydus and the knight. "Please excuse my colleague. He gets cranky" she said to the knight in the fancy armor, smiling, her voice cheery. "I'm Hollí" she introduced herself, holding out a hand.


She then gave a little wave to attract the raven-haired serving girl. "Excuse me. Could I get what he's having?" she asked, gesturing at the knight's decimated meat-pie.


While she waited, she discovered that her stool was not quite balanced—one leg a touch shorter than the others. Hooking her legs behind two of the stool's, she started rocking it slowly back and forth with slight shifts of her weight—almost as if she were riding an imaginary horse—seemingly without a care in the world.

#485157 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Sareth on 06 July 2017 - 08:14 AM


Agnar scowled, as was his way. A city like this was exactly what he'd hoped to avoid...


"I agree." Agnar was standing close to her...


Uh, Sephsekla, I think you got your own characters' names mixed up. :lol:

#485142 Hollí Emberleaf

Posted by Sareth on 05 July 2017 - 09:16 AM

Hollí Emberleaf


Full Name: Hollí Emberleaf

Aliases: None


Sex: Female

Race: Wood-Elf

Birthplace: Forest north of Shadowvale, Achæan Empire


Affinity: Fire

Deity: Artemis, Skadi

Magic: Gifted

Faction: Venatori


Talents: Finesse Combat, Marksmanship, Acrobatics, Monster Lore, Elven Woodworking



Strength: 3

Agility: 9 (7 + 2)

Constitution: 3 (4 - 1)

Perception: 9

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 9

Luck: 2



Standing all of 4'8'' tall, with a slender, elfin build, Hollí is cute as a button. She has long, fiery auburn hair, and large, expressive green eyes. Her skin is fair, though perhaps slightly darker than the average for her kind. A narrow line of freckles runs across the bridge of her nose and beneath her eyes, giving her a slightly spectacled look.


A large tattoo—a mix of plant and flame motifs—done in teal ink, covers much of her body: starting on her back, flowing up the back of her neck, pouring down over her shoulders, and spiraling down her arms, with a few small tendrils curling around onto her chest and abdomen.


Aside from her blue Venator's cloak, she wears a thin, short-sleeved shirt, and pants—both of the same shade. Over the shirt, she wears a flexible leather cuirass; and over that she wears a sleeveless shirt of deepsilver chainmail. She wears leather boots and gloves, and leather vambraces and greaves protect her forearms and shins.


She carries an Elven longbow, sized for her height; she wears her quiver on her left hip. She also carries a spear that's about 8 inches longer than she is tall; she sharpened the edges of the long point so that she can make light cutting attacks in addition to thrusts; the butt of the shaft is capped with a steel ferrule, making a decent bludgeoning instrument, and allowing the weapon to conveniently double as a walking stick. In addition, she carries a silver dagger, plus a small knife that she mostly just uses for wood-carving.



(Venator Pack)

   • Clothing

   • Blue cloak

   • SIlver Venator brooch

   • Leather armor (cuirass, vambraces, greaves)

   • Deepsilver chainmail shirt

   • Steel spear

   • Elven bow, w/ 20 iron arrows and 5 silver arrows

   • Silver dagger

   • Flint and tinder

   • 3 clean bandages

   • 2 healing ointment

   • 2 sense-enhancing potions

   • 1 strength-enhancing potion

   • 1 anti-lycanthropy potion

   • Water and rations

   • A few small woodworking tools (small knife, files, chisel)

   • Oil and rags (for fire arrows)

   • Wood occarina



Born in the Achæan Empire, in the forest north of Shadowvale, Hollí's early life was typical of her kind. She hunted, she reveled, and she generally enjoyed life. Despite her blithe attitude towards life, she was a good person at heart, and considered doing something to help people—possibly becoming a Longstrider—but never seemed able to work up sufficient motivation.
That might never have changed, had she not, while hunting one night, caught a glimpse of a creature, like none she had ever seen before, flying above the treetops. She had been hunting with a friend, but they had split up to pursue game separately. Twenty-three at the time, curious, and confident in her skills as a hunter, she followed the creature, continuing even after she lost sight of it. She found it—or rather, the transformed elf it proved to be—crouched over her friend, teeth sunk deep into the other girl's neck, drinking her blood. She had never even heard the scream. Unable to repress a gasp at the sight, she unwittingly attracted the vampire's attention. She recognized the man—a loner that had been seen around the forest from time to time. At once, he transformed and attacked her.
Most people would have died there—and she very nearly did—but she had been born with the Gift of magic; with a blast of magical fire she knocked the vampire back and injured it, buying herself some time to flee—taking off through the tree-tops. But the vampire—desperate to keep its secret, or just angry—pursued.
The flames also had another, entirely unintentional effect: attracting the attention of the group of Venatori who had been hunting the blood-drinker.
Hollí loosed many arrows at the vampire as she fled, but in her panic and flight few of them hit—and those that did did not seem to impede or dissuade the bloodthirsty creature. Eventually, her pursuer caught her, knocking her from her perch to crash onto a much lower branch—injuring her and leaving her dangling helplessly. The monster-hunters arrived just in the nick of time, killing the vampire just as it's bat-like form landed on the branch and was about to rip out her throat. After hearing her story—which left out her magic, of course—one of the Venators complimented her on surviving as long as she had, and then they left, their work complete.
But she could not so easily get over the events of that night. An avid huntress, the thought of something so monstrous, something she knew nothing about and could scarcely fight, bothered her deeply… as did the fact that she had been unable to save her friend—had been able to  do nothing but turn and flee, when confronted by her killer. And so before long she made a decision: she followed the hunters back to Castle Greywatch, and there joined the Venatori order.
Having been a Venator for almost thirty-eight years now, she is quite experienced. Although something of a divisive figure amongst the order due to her typically playful and immature attitude, she is nevertheless a dedicated and competent monster-hunter.


Campaign History:







Many people mistake Hollí for a child at first glance. Whether or not that impression is shattered the moment she opens her mouth really depends on her mood. For she is, above all else, mercurial: she's about as tame and predictable as an active volcano; her personality capable of shifting between bubbly child, cynical world-weary smart-ass, serious and dedicated Venator, and more—with such speed as to risk giving onlookers whiplash. Although 'vivacious, playful, and childish' is the most common. 


Hollí is sort of the annoying kid sister of the Venatori order—despite the fact that she's actually 61 years old. She's one of those people who always seems to have a surfeit of energy, and seems incapable of remaining still for even an instant—making some who don't know her wonder how she ever manages to stay quiet on a hunt. She's also got a serious teasing streak, and loves subverting the expectations that people tend to form based on her incredibly youthful appearance and behavior—although she also loves pulling rank, as it were, with her age on people younger than her.


Generally easy-going—verging on blithe—it takes quite a bit to get her riled up, and her temper is a rare sight (thankfully, given her magical Gift, which she must keep hidden)—but when it does get going, it's a wonder to behold. Snarky comebacks—typically delivered with a feigned childlike innocence—are far more common.


Currency: 20 Gold, 35 Silver, 25 Copper


HP: 15/15


#485036 ZONE - Longship on the Rime

Posted by Sareth on 30 June 2017 - 10:02 AM

Valya drew her sword almost immediately as the attack began, a slight thrill running through her blood. Even she had not expected battle quite this soon into their journey; but if something wanted to challenge them, she would be happy to oblige. That their attackers were inhuman, and unknown did not bother her in the slightest.


"Stop them! We mustn't lose the oars!"


She saw the problem at once, and immediately resolved to solve it. The solution was a simple one: if the creatures were dead, they could not continue their theft.


However at that moment one of the creatures charged her, only to hesitate and hiss instead. Valya did not hesitate. Grinning with bloodlust, she instantly charged the creature, lashing out with a two handed swing of her blade that, if it hit, might very well cleave her foe from shoulder to opposite hip.


If she were successful, she intended to continue her charge straight into the four who were busy throwing oars over the side.




While a tiny part of Allya was fascinated by their attackers—she knew little of monsters, a serious failing, she realized; and she didn't even see any hint of recognition in the eyes of the Venators in the group—mostly she was scared. Lucky enough to have not been targeted by the initial attacks, she immediately retreated back a bit, keeping some of the more combat-able of the group between herself and the creatures, and wishing there was something more she could do...


"Stop them! We mustn't lose the oars!"


Seeing that a number of oars had already been thrown overboard and were being carried away, inspiration struck. Closing her eyes—desperately hoping the others would protect her; explaining would take too long—she focused, reaching out to the local spirits: the spirits of the river, of any aquatic plants that might snare or entangle—asking for their aid, for them to slow or stop the attacking creatures in the water, possibly even to redirect the floating oars back towards the ship....

#484944 ZONE - The Skaldsong Tavern ((Delving Too Deep - START))

Posted by Sareth on 21 June 2017 - 02:57 PM

Allya pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation as Korvarl and Elisario started arguing over who Elmira would have a drink with; their argument was threatening to give her a headache.


"Look, Korvarl, you've known her for all of five minutes. Why do you care—and what gives you any say—about who she chooses to spend time with?" she said, trying to reason with the dwarf.


Still, she didn't have terribly high hopes. Men could be idiots when it came to women...

#484907 ZONE - The Skaldsong Tavern ((Delving Too Deep - START))

Posted by Sareth on 18 June 2017 - 11:48 AM

"I'm a bounty hunter by trade. Recently brought in a contract to an employer here in Baldur's Fjord. Some new and original work will be a nice change of pace."


"I suspect it will be, at that" Allya said a touch vaguely. "Nice to meet you.


“Parts-an-share? That some sorta blacksmithin’ guild?”


"I'll assume you're joking with that one."


"PAR-san-shar" she corrected Korvari. "It's a southeastern kingdom."


A moment later, an exceptionally short, excited dwarf woman came running up:


"I'm so excited to go on a real expedition! But where are my manners I'm Elnira I'm a scholar! Itsapleasuretomeetyoualland... What can I call you?"


Allya stared at the newcomer for a moment in surprise. She certainly had... spirit. Then she gave a slight smile and knelt down to offer her hand. "I am Allya Noctis. I'm actually a scholar of sorts, myself."


"Ehh, I hate t' interrupt, milady, but maybe ye should have the full details o' the mission. We're headin' to the Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar, which I'm sure ye've heard of. It's gonna be extremely dangerous. Only the gods know what all is still down there. If yer wantin' to come, I won't try to stop ye from signin', but just wanted you to have a little more awareness o' how difficult it's gonna be."


"Surely everything's dangerous though? I tripped over Mr Whiskers this morning and that was almost it for me! Besides, all that lost knowledge! Anyway, I'm sure we can stay safe for most of the journey, maybe pass through the Empire?"


Allya arched an eyebrow, and a slight frown pulled at her lips. "While it is true death can come most anywhere, facing whatever demons or monsters may yet lurk in Dimmlundar's ancient halls is a rather different level of risk" she cautioned Elnira. Of course, she had made the same decision herself, but she at least was not entirely defenseless despite her lack of skill with a weapon—the spirits would look after her; they always had. This dwarf woman, though, concerned her; Elnira seemed long on enthusiasm and far too short on caution. It made her think of her own mother—though of course, her mother had never been so outwardly excitable....




Valya leaned back in her chair as the inquisitor and templar continued to argue. She was just about to go get that drink when a slight, warm weight suddenly settled itself across her feet. Looking under the table, she saw the ugliest cat she had ever seen draped on her boots. Although she manage to resist the urge to actually snarl at the animal, her lips pursed in a a mixture of annoyance at the feline's presumptuousness, and amusement at its bravery.


Still, she wanted a drink. Reaching down, she easily picked the cat up by its scruff and set it some feet off to the side, before getting up and heading to the bar for an ale. Maybe by the time she was finished with it, this group would have made up their minds.