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Game: Flotsam

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jordarad's picture
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Joined: 2004-12-17
Game: Flotsam

Blackness, endless blackness... Then, a fading to muted light.

There is a lapping sound of water upon rock. Far, far in the distance you faintly hear the screams and shouts, the clash of metal on metal, of flesh tearing and bones breaking, eventually this subsides and leaves only running water which laps up to your face, waking you gently as thick water runs into your nose.

A moistness permeates your flesh, as though long exposure to water has softened every pore of your skin. You rest on hard rock, rounded through years upon years of erosion to a smooth blanket of pebbles. Opening your eyes, you see that color has drained somewhat from the surrounding landscape, leaving the colors a muted, bitter greyness mixed with red hues that dyes everything a slight maroon.

You lay near a bank of brackish, opaque black water, flowing in a stream not more than 8 feet across, yet increasing in size to several hundred yards as it flows miles upon miles away from you. The ground is a mass of small, dark grey pebbles, flat and smoothly rounded by the river, thin and wide, giving way to rougher rocks as they blend in with the drab mixed olive trees and connifers that permeate the landscape, grasping to grow in the harsh, rocky soil.

There are four others waking up, as muddled as you are, having also nearly awoken. All of you wear very similar garments, a mixture of boiled and soft leathers dyed a muddy red-brown that roughly accrues to explorer's outfits, with numerous belt pouches and bandoliers that contain a variety of trinkets and baubles. A variety of weapons and armor adorn each of you, but the colorant and stylization remain in a similar vein, as if mass-produced for you. PM me if you wish to search any of these pouches - you have a bandolier, two large belt pouches, and a pouch around your neck, hanging from a leather thong.

Describe your character's appearance - remember, yuo all are wearing the exact same clothing - I'll PM you with equipment once you post your appearance here.

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
Joined: 2007-12-02
Game: Flotsam

Lying chin down on the grey pebbles, water spurting from his mount, he lets out a low growl, and spits out the foul tasting fluids from his mouth.
Blinking to adjust to the muted colours of the landscape, he shifts his tail, and sploshes water around him......

Slowly breathing in and out, but barely moving, he shifts his head around to better see his surroundings..

He puts his arms as if to do pushups and slowly rises his head and neck from the whet surface, and slowly scans around him to see the situation before and behind him....

He growls in Draconic, blinks at the fact he is speaking and gets coherent and says to those he sees around him; 'anybody wounded or incapacitated?.....'(in draconic, and he sounds rough and direct, not socially worried, he is more or less asking for a status report)

He waits in silence whilst scanning the area around him from his prone position, seemingly trying to blend in with the water...

He looks like a Troglodyte, but his colours are slightly of, he looks mottled olive streaked, blurring seemlessly with the sandy and brown blotches, and his jaw seems slightly flatter then normal, but not bigger.
His eyes are the customary yellow with the black pupils..

Ramses135's picture
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Game: Flotsam

Grey sky... He stares at the endless greyness above for what seems to be like eternity. It feels like there never was anything but the sky.

Suddenly, growing pain from some uncomfortably placed pebble he was lying upon forced him to wake up from this letargy. Slowly raising his head, he realises that there is something not right. The landscape around him looks so... Alien. Strange taste in the mounth... What is that?

Growl in strange tongue. The sound of voice surprises him and he basically jumps from the ground, prepared for danger - and suddenly realising, he's overreacting. The... creature, which made that sound, was not appearing like a threat on the first look.

Wh...where am I? (in elvish) The sound of his own voice stopped growing panic. He turns and looks at the others.

He is an elf, no doubt. Pointed ears, short light yellow hair almost fading into white, and gracefulness in his movement, pretty face - he could be considered handsome. Trained muscular body and weapons he carries speak of his possible martial prowess.
Eyes are cold blue.

Dire Lemon's picture
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factotums
Joined: 2007-11-06
Game: Flotsam

The third sits up and looks around with a mild curious expression, his eyes finally coming to rest on the other two. His medium hair comes about halfway down his neck and is a strange faded white-green color while his eyes are a bright violet. He is an aasimar, and as such his pale skin seems even paler as it appears to be radiating light, but he seems vaguely elven as well, with slightly pointed ears. He is clearly a warrior as evidenced by the large sword he has sheathed on his back, and it's apparent that he has the strength to use it.

Hearing the other two make noises he does not understand that sound very much like language, he himself speaks in Planar Trade, his tone is surprisingly lacking in emotion considering the circumstances. "Do you understand?"

jordarad's picture
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Game: Flotsam

Looking around, there seem to be a number of different small tuffed plants that grow sparsely in the rocks around you, meshing with the stones that surround you, pushing through for survival. These differ from the connifers and olive trees in that their leaves have a long, hair-like quality, curling and uncurling slowly, as if breathing.

Above you, the sky is a uniform grey-maroon, similar to the pallor of every tinted item in your space. Off in the horizon (it's impossible to tell any sense of direction without a sun, moon, or any knowledge of the area...), you see a large sphere of reddish-brown floating lazily away from your location. It looks to be massive, and very distant at this point. Periodically, you witness small explosions upon it's surface that must be absolutely massive - were you standing close to them... a great contrast to the eerie calm of the area that surrounds you, only the lapping of the river provides an underscore to the sound of your voices and your own breathing.

The only item that looks out of place here (besides you three) is a an obelisk of shale, forcibly implanted in the harsh rock of the crags that sprout from the terrain not far from the banks of the brackish water that makes up the stream. It points up towards the departing sphere, with a path that cut a swathe through a few of the connifers, crashing through branches that now rest upon the barren rock. This all looks to have happened recently...

At this point, I'm going to give you guys a chance to RP while I allocate your items, armor and weapons. If you have any questions regarding these, please PM me. For a little while, this will be open-ended and up to you to determine how your characters interact. When you've met and RP'd a bit, feel free to explore the area at your leisure... Just be sure to ell me what you're checking out. Use either post of flavor text for subjects.

Dire Lemon's picture
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factotums
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Game: Flotsam

The Aasimar waits silently for a few seconds, then shrugs and wanders off to look around the area more carefully. He searches around until he finds a long branch, and picking it up, proceeds to tentatively poke at the obelisk with a passive curious expression.

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
Joined: 2007-12-02
Game: Flotsam

"Yesssssss......, Understand..." the Troglodity hisses with his draconical voice (but speaks in common), blinking that he is able to reply in this new sounding language..

Ramses135's picture
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Game: Flotsam

"No, of course we do NOT understand, berk." answers the elven one with a twisting smile and watches curiously, what the aasimar is going to do with the stick.

jordarad's picture
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'Dire Lemon' wrote:
The Aasimar waits silently for a few seconds, then shrugs and wanders off to look around the area more carefully. He searches around until he finds a long branch, and picking it up, proceeds to tentatively poke at the obelisk with a passive curious expression.

Poking at the Obelisk does little, as it is wedged fast, deep in the earth. A great feat of strength would be required to pick it up and dislodge it, or several hours with the proper tools (which you don't have...) to whittle away at the rocks that hold it fast. It looks like it struck the rock with a great force - enough to produce several hairline fractures that rise up from the lodged end.

Coming closer to the stone, you notice several smaller markings riddled through the stone, almost minute to the point you would pass right over them unless your stick had lodged in one of them like a notch.

What languages does your character read/write, Lemming?

Dire Lemon's picture
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factotums
Joined: 2007-11-06
Game: Flotsam

Amnesiac Aasimar Fighter is fluent in Planar Trade, Abyssal, and Undercommon.

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
Joined: 2007-12-02
Game: Flotsam

ooc: you should have asked that ingame..about the languages...o well., o wait hehe, it was the DM asking the player, lol, should have don't that ooc thread then Sticking out tongue

"....SSsssssoooo, what we have here..." (in common)...and the Troglodyte looks around with his reptilian eyes scanning the surroundings, and his tongue flicking like a snakes..

jordarad's picture
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Game: Flotsam

'Burning Spear' wrote:
"....SSsssssoooo, what we have here..." (in common)...and the Troglodyte looks around with his reptilian eyes scanning the surroundings, and his tongue flicking like a snakes..

Outside of the various plants, the riverbed, and the jutting obelisk, there is little else to see in this quiet clearing. The sharp rocks which jut up and sprout the Olive grove at the cliffside would probably give you a better vantage point of your positioning...

Anyone who wishes to climb the jagged rocks of the outcrop, make a climb check.[i]

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
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Game: Flotsam

climb then it is.. the troglodyte raises himself reluctantly out of the water and slowly but surely creeps up to the spot he has to start climbing to survey the surroundings

2 Bonus for climb to do
I rolled 1d20+2, the result is 13.
Dire Lemon's picture
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Game: Flotsam

Finding absolutely nothing of interest around the Obelisk, the Aasimar decides to get a better look around and follows the lizard to the rocks.

9 Bonus for Climb to do
I rolled 1d20+9, the result is 10.
jordarad's picture
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Game: Flotsam

As the Lizard begins his ascent, some of the crag crumbles off, causing a slower uphill climb for the Aasimar, but the climb is not unharrowing - minor cuts and bruise or two, and you stand at a precipice overlooking the trickle of brackish water as it extends outward, flowing up inexplicably what must be thousands and thousands of miles, meandering like a double helix, as strange, bloated humanoids leap and dive between the surface in a cylindrical fashion. Miles away, they move up the flow of the black river , carried forth to the next of the great spheres which continues to slowly make its way from where you stand, floating lazily away.

As you scan the surface of your own surroundings, you see a small path, of sorts. Harrowed and worn, it extends to your left and right, with the left leading deeper into the olive trees which become more orderly, right to further outcroppings of rock and a distant wisp of smoke whose source is obscured by the dense rock.

Dire Lemon's picture
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factotums
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Game: Flotsam

The Aasimar keeps his eyes on the strange distant floating orb as he calls out to those around him. "Does anyone know where we are?"

Ramses135's picture
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Game: Flotsam

"I have no idea. Even worse, does anybody know, WHO we are and what are we doing here?" The elf turns his head from the strange floating orb and concentrates his attention to the olive trees.

"No need to stay here, we may die by age until we figure out what's happened." The elven warrior slowly takes the path leading from the riverbank to the olive grove.

"Let's explore a bit the surroundings. Come down, you two."

Dire Lemon's picture
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Game: Flotsam

"Hm. I am unable to recall... anything..." The Aasimar looks towards the smoke. "It is possible that there are people in that direction. Perhaps we should move towards the smoke."

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
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Game: Flotsam

"SSSSssss...." the Troglodyte stands still for several minutes, and when it becomes almost annoying to wait anymore, he slowly descends to the others.
He slowly looks at the Elf from several angles, and keeps silent but with a stare that would be constituted as almost intimidating, or perhaps weighing the person on the receiving end of the stare...

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Game: Flotsam

The stare of the troglodyte is so intense, that the elf can almost physically feel it. It was more than annoying... It makes him feel uneasy.

The elf silently returns the stare, but... There is something strange in his eyes, something dark, growing - a wild, dangerous look. As he feels more and more endangered, it feels like if the shadows in his face become darker. Not knowing why, he reminds himself a cornered animal. Anger...

"Stop staring at me!"

A bit frightened from his own reaction, the elf suddenly turnes and makes few quick steps towards the path. The pebbles under his boots are crunching as he's marching between the trees. He takes the path leading to the smoke in the distance. When about forty feet away, he stops as sudden as he left the troglo, he lowers his head and takes a deep breath. Then he turnes to others:

"What are you waiting for? Common, follow me!"

His voice is now self-confident.

Dire Lemon's picture
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Game: Flotsam

The Aasimar, who had been staring at the elf as well since his outbreak shrugs and clambers back down the rocks to join him.

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
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Game: Flotsam

"SSSSsssss....ss.. your enthou..sssiasm isss... amendable...but i prefer no pack leadersss..." the Troglodyte blinks his eyes and walks slowly after the elf..

jordarad's picture
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Game: Flotsam

As the three amnesiacs turn down, away from the wooded path towards the many crags of stone which jut and spur from the ground, the going gets truly rough. After several feet of manuevering, the path itself turns at oblong angles, sometimes coming closer than 2 feet of a tight squeeze of sharp, protruding slices of shale. As the pass gets more and more claustrophobic, you see the billowing smoke ever closer, and the sounds of a haunting melody and harmony being played on twin pipes...

Dex checks, please, or take 20 to take your own sweet time to get through unscathed. Just know that if you attempt to run through this tight pass, there is a very good chance you'll be cut by the many jutting rocks.

Dire Lemon's picture
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Game: Flotsam

The Aasimar takes his time to avoid injury.

Ramses135's picture
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Game: Flotsam

We are not in a hurry. The elf tries to avoid being cut by the sharp rocks.

"Do you hear that? The sound... It feels... Look at the land around us. The trees, the sky - all in tones of greyness." The elf silences for a moment, trying to squeeze through an extremely tight spot. "The rocks on the path are sharp like if they want to hurt travelers. We should proceed carefully - I have a strange feeling that whatever the source of this sound is, it won't be welcoming to visitors."

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You weave your way through the crags, cutting only the strange cloth which adornes your bodies. After a few twists and turns of aversion, the shale path widens out to a span of ten feet or more, and then pushing out to an expanse of gravel-covered ground leading up to a singular cliff face.

"Face" is the best term for it, for a cavern cut into the cliff through some unknown ancient sculptor has left thousands of small, angular shale faces with sharp features and long, thin ears streaming out of the rock - all no larger than your palm, and each in an expression of agony. Near the gravel base, the faces turn upwards, as if they were gasping for air against a sea of small rocks...

WIthin the expanse, a singular olive tree grows, with a small bounty. Upon it sit two small fey, no taller than the distance from your fingertips to elbows, dark of skin and of dress. Their luminescence is a faint yellow which comes from their wing tips and leaves a trail of particles that dispurses into nothingness as they flit around the tree. They each play twin reeds - hardened with time and burrowed with holes to provide differences in pitch.

The only difference in the two is the length of their hair - the melodist has a length of black hair which is braided long, it trails behind him twice the length of his entire body, spanned with small bindings of rough leather. The harmonist is bald as an egg, with small circular tattoos that pattern upon his pate and down the back of his neck.

Both flit about and play as you approach, paying no mind to your progression into their vicinity...

Burning Spear's picture
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ooc: sorry, had on and off internet, thats why i only properly reacted now.

The Troglodyte takes 20 also...

Burning Spear's picture
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Factol
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Game: Flotsam

THe Troglodyte looks at the display as if hypnotised and stares silently at them for several minutes, not showing any offensive actions, and only slowly twisting its head and blinking its eyes to show it is not a actual statue...

Dire Lemon's picture
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The Aasimar too stares at them silently, not sure what to make of the strange pair.

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Even the elf stops and without a single word only watches.

(OOC: At this moment, he only listens, confused who these two fellows are. He'll wait until they finish their music, or until other member of the party acts.)

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The haunting melody reaches a crecendo of quick beats and twittering notes, and the two fae lower their paired reeds to a chorus of groaning from the many carved faces behind them. You hear a mass hoarse whispering from each of the diminuitive heads carved within the rock, and a solitary olive grows larger from a single branch of the tree - the long haired muse plucks it from the branch and begins slicing it with a dirk retrieved from his waistband, splitting it with his acompanist...

They both turn to the amnesiacs as the groans begin to die behind them, and the long haired fae places one hand on his hip, his staccatto high pitched voice a stark contrast to the haunting breezy tune just completed. The fae's words are questioning, this position one of more amusement than fear...

Anyone speak Sylvan?

Burning Spear's picture
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"...grrroowwwll...." a low deep rumbling of satisfaction comes from deep in the Trog's gullet, just sounding like a crocodile... and it seems he is pleased with the sounds the faeries made...

ooc: nope, i dont speak sylvan.

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The Aasimar continues staring at the two tiny men quizzically, unable to understand their speech.

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"I don't understand..." replies the elven one carefully to the speech in a for-him-unknown language.

The whole situation makes him a little nervous. The troglo actually enjoying it is beyond his understanding, because his sixth sense is telling him to watch his back and be ready to flee.

"Can you speak the common language?"

"Or the Elvish?"

OOC: Orange color for Planar Trade, red for Elvish, for the times to come Eye-wink

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"Mmm... Yes. It has been long since we've spoke the common tongue of the planes..." the long-haired fae replies in a high-pitched, staccatto version of Planar Trade. His twin flits over and sits upon the same branch, smiling widely, and you now see several rows of needle-like teeth protruding at mismatched angles... They both stare at you with hungry eyes as they pack up their reeds without looking at them, as if this practiced ritual was as natural as breathing...

"You look lost, friends - of course, all cutters floating through the great prison are lost - to one thing, or another..." he muses. "We are known to many on this land as the Brothers Siim. I am Fleshtick, and this is my brother, Gnawnit, at your service." with that, they both bow low and deep.

"A favor for your pleasures, mesires..." Gnawnit smirks. "A trade, methinks..."

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The Aasimar begins to think that perhaps they should have gone the other way. These small fellows are... worrying to say the least. Especially since they seem to be speaking a language he understands, but he still cannot understand what they are talking about. He glances at the elf, and decides that perhaps it might be best to let him do the talking, as he was the first one to start in the first one to start in the first place.

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Catching aasimar's glance, elf almost imperceptibly lowers his head as a sign of acceptance.

"A trade, you say? And what of value could we, some lost cutters, probably have?" answers he with a question. He's suspicious, but in his voice is no trace of that.

He makes a small step towards the olive tree, but not in a direct way. Then another step. The elf basically circles around the olive tree, keeping safe distance from it, and he keeps talking.

"What a curious cliff. Everything in this land is curious..."

He stops directly before the faces, realising something.

"You said "prison"?"

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Game: Flotsam

The Troglodyte growls in annoyance at the word "prison"...

He slows his thinking process down to focus on planes and prisons, trying to see what he has in his brain in that regard. (crap)

3 Bonus for Know. Planes to do
I rolled 1d20+3, the result is 8.
Dire Lemon's picture
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The Aasimar decides it best to stay near the elf just in case the little critters try something.

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'Ramses135' wrote:
Catching aasimar's glance, elf almost imperceptibly lowers his head as a sign of acceptance.

"A trade, you say? And what of value could we, some lost cutters, probably have?" answers he with a question. He's suspicious, but in his voice is no trace of that.

He makes a small step towards the olive tree, but not in a direct way. Then another step. The elf basically circles around the olive tree, keeping safe distance from it, and he keeps talking.

"What a curious cliff. Everything in this land is curious..."

He stops directly before the faces, realising something.

"You said "prison"?"

"So many questions..." Fleshtick smirks, the side of his mouth barely covering the sharp points of his protruding fangs. Turning to his twin, he cocks his head to the side, "Perhaps we answer them fore to aft, yes? But only after a payment..."

"Yes... a bit of flesh should do so very nicely..." Gnawnit responds. "It's been long since we had a bit of true flesh to savor... I'd do with a bit of marrow, even, if we could get it. These olives, they just don't give us the flavor we needs."

"Too true, brother, too true. Mayhaps they're willing to part with a bit from those fancy satchels, or maybe they'll give us something more..." his eyes catch the glint of maroon, illuminating them somewhat "...fresh."

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All this time a lean black human was stalking the area almost silently. His body was scarred and covered with tattoos of even darker color than his skin. Something about his movements reminded of a hunting panther. The man gazed upon the strange things and critters with both fear and astonishment. Suddenly he mumbled something as though he wished to make a response, but instead just grimaced and rubbed his belly.

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Factol
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Game: Flotsam

The Troglodyte has been fingering the silver crocodile's head hanging on his neck, finding it vaguely reassuring and safe... and hearing the little buggers want flesh for decent info, he thinks it time to press faith, and see if he was a priest and how he now stands in that regard...

"i will grant one of you a bite of my tail...for decent information in exchange...and you had better have decent value for the bite...he growls annoyed.. Grrooowwwlll...."

with that said the Trog slowly steps forward and raises his fat and juicy tail for the nearest evil fey...to bite in, steeling himself for the jab of pain that will follow...

then after the bite, he will cast a cure light wounds on himself

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The Aasimar stares at the Troglodyte aghast but remains silent, as it is only a small sacrifice that gains for them all.

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The elf only stares - he does not believe the troglo is going to do it! When the fey come closer to bite a piece of flesh, he turns his head away in disgust.

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Following a strange whim, the human slowly started to search for a stone or something that could be used as a club or other ... Weapon? Heck, what's that? Oh ... It's a thing which can hurt others ... Or defend them? With a confused shake of his head, the human continued his pursuit.

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'Burning Spear' wrote:
The Troglodyte has been fingering the silver crocodile's head hanging on his neck, finding it vaguely reassuring and safe... and hearing the little buggers want flesh for decent info, he thinks it time to press faith, and see if he was a priest and how he now stands in that regard...

"i will grant one of you a bite of my tail...for decent information in exchange...and you had better have decent value for the bite...he growls annoyed.. Grrooowwwlll...."

with that said the Trog slowly steps forward and raises his fat and juicy tail for the nearest evil fey...to bite in, steeling himself for the jab of pain that will follow...

then after the bite, he will cast a cure light wounds on himself

At the offer, both fey swoop down with blinding speed, latching onto the Trog's tail with vicious glee and sharp little talons. Scales separate and reptilian blood flows from their attachment, and both take ample bites of the tender muscle of the undertail, letting the Trog's blood flow down and stain their grey tunics, they both give an almost euphoric sigh of satisfaction...

5 points of damage, BS, and give me 2 fort saves...

"Oooh, yesssss..." Gnawnit sighs, and leans backward, still gripping solidly to the Trog's tail, his wings fluttering strongly, keeping his weight from causing deeper gashes in the the Trog's tail.

"Mmmm... Services paid for, and questions answered, querrilous ones," Fleshtick smiles, Trog blood dripping down his chin through mismatched fangs. "Ask your questions, we shall give you three to which we will answer to the best of our ability. More will require... further payment." he gleefully eyes the meaty rolls of flesh of the Trog's tail as it undulates further under his steadfast grip, licking the blood from his lips and chin with an overly-long tongue.

BS - you can't cast CLW until the fae release your tail, or you forcibly remove them, FYI...

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Despite his disgust at the gruesome display, the Aasimar's only reaction as he watched it is to squint slightly.

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The human flinched, and sat right down on the ground. His eyes opened wide when he hears the sound of his own voice:

- Only the one, who paid the price, must ask ... - murmured the tattooed human in Common and flinched again.

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"I clearly said one!....." an ominous silence drifts in, and the Trog slowly begins to tuck at his own tail to bring it to safety...but meanwhile:

"My first question will be, (and we know this must be another plane, and u just told us this is a prison...) therefore i wish to know all u know of this prison-plane,
Question 2, where is there a possibility of food, shelter and water?,
Question 3...let me think.."

will edit more after my question to Jordarad is answered..
(fort saves: yeay and crap...)

8 Bonus for fortitude to do
I rolled 1d20+8, the result is 28.
I rolled 1d20+8, the result is 10.
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Game: Flotsam

The elf grates his teeth as the fey started their horrid feast.

"Allright, you ask the questions, troglo. But think much about what you want to know, I would prefer not to watch this bloody theatre again", sours the elf.

Dire Lemon's picture
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factotums
Joined: 2007-11-06
Game: Flotsam

"If he has no qualms about being eaten alive for information, we should not either. We should be grateful that he is willing to sacrifice his flesh for the good of all of us." The Aasimar continues staring at the troglodyte and the Fey.

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