Vitae in the Alair Mines
From SCross
This is a log of the events that happened in the Alair Mines. A plot run by Bahumat, players Cassie, Sharpe, Cormac, and Melia participated.
Log:
A night out on the tundra, spring delayed, the bitter chill as vicious as ever. Reports of problems down in the Alair mines; miners fighting, murdering each other. Cassie called out to help keep the peace, Cormac and Melia, unlikely to leave such news unchecked, and Sharpe... well, we're not sure why Sharpe is here yet, but he is!
Melia raises her mask to her face, securing it with a grim look on her face. The smirking fox noh mask hides the grim look. Soon her daggers find their way to her hands.
Cormac pulls on his gloves as he walks alongside Melia toward the mine, pale face darkening. "Remind me, my dear," he drawls, "why we don't simply collapse the damn thing and be done with it." His knuckles pop as his hands curl into fists, the blades extending from the back of his hands glowing a bright white.
Cassie is seen coming up to the mine at top speed and rather than run, she had invented an interesting way of travel. She was on top of a very plain plank of wood, and with a hand behind herself, she was casting telekinesis at the ground behind her, blowing her forward at a decent clip. She hops off of the wood as soon as she arrives and moves inside to see what the situation was.
Sharpe has come along because he's looking for a good fight, and because he was once a Highwind Point Guard. His method of travel is also unorthodox... he's walking along a spirit path... in midair. Yep, why bother with the ground when he can walk through the air along an invisible path?
The situation of the mine is... empty. Bloody streaks paint the stones at the entrance, and while the mining lamps are on... the ground is slick with blood. Too slick, in fact... even all the miners in the mine, if all slaughtered and bled out here, couldn't possibly make this much blood, could they?
Whispers, faint, as though on the wind, are heard deep from within the mine...
The mask barely filters out the coppery tang of the blood. Her fingers curl tighter about the knives, a shiver running down her spine. Melia's masked gaze looks back to Cormac as she raises two fingers to point at her eyes and then further into the mine.
Cormac's lambent eyes narrow, gaze flickering left and right. Responding to Melia's gestures with a nod, the lord kisses two fingers and places them on the cheek of the mask, before turning to the newcomers and placing a finger to his lips.
Cassie wrinkles her nose at smell of blood coming from the mines and starts to unsheath her sword upon looking around. "....Something..is seriously..seriously..seriously wrong here.." She turns towards the two alairs standing near her. "You guys heard too huh..?"
Down from the mines... another whispering sound, like the intense whisper of child, but heard from far away. A faint wind catches at your backs, sending the torches and mining lights faintly flickering. The bloody smears lead deeper into the mine.
Sharpe frowns and draws his cards silently. "I've never seen this much blood before... in all of my life, every battle put together... there has never been that much..." He shakes his head.
Do you enter the mines? [Y/N]
The Wutaiin closes her eyes for a moment at the sound of a child's whisper. She takes a few steps forward into the mine, steeling herself for what is to come.
A cold shudder runs up the Alair's spine, his bladed gloves creaking in protest as his fists tighten. "Stay close," he murmurs to the other two. "Don't get separated if you enjoy your life...."
Cassie comes into mines at this point, being mindful of her steps into the mine, her sword held at the ready. "And keep quiet for that matter."
Sharpe sighs and follows the group in, leaping from the high road onto the ground below. "This is going to be bad..." He nods to Cormac. "Didn't plan on it, but I get lost easily." He grabs Cassie's shoulder lightly. "I'll follow you, Cassie, so I don't get lost."
The descent in to the mines is hideous; the floor, slick with the mud made of blood and stone dust. There's no trace of the miners, any of them. Dropped tools, some still stuck in rock, the stink of blood nearly a stench now, stifling, gagging. And... it's so warm in the mine, once you get a few feet in. Stiflingly warm, suffocating in that stink of blood.
Explore the upper level, or delve deeper, towards the hideous whispers far below?
Melia rolls her eyes behind the mask at Cassie's words. Didn't the Wutaiin just signal that silently? She moves toward the upper level first, ears straining for signs of survival.
Cormac turns his head to look back at Cassie, touching a finger to the corner of his eye, then pointing behind the group. A quick glance is given to the weapons that Cassie and Sharpe are carrying, before turning his attention to his flank, peering through the flickering shadows in the hopes of spotting movement of any kind.
Cassie tries her best to ignore the stench but it was mighty powerful to that nose of hers. She takes the lead position and promptly decides to head over towards the whispers, pacing lightly.
Turning a corner, and the first unfortunate man, the tale of it told in the silent, guttering flame of a mine-lamp: A tool imbedded in the wall, and pinned by it, a miner's shirt. The thing inside can barely be called a man anymore; the skin sags, and at the lower legs, the outline of bones, too many bones, bulging, distending, but not breaking the skin, can be seen. The thing, once human, now dead... empty of everything but skin and bones.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "If anyone has Slave to Scent... +resist/will please."
<Resister> Cormac does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 4!
<Resister> Cassie does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 3!
[RP/Official] Bahumat rolls 1d4+0 and gets 2 for a result of 2.
The reek is barely tolerable, but you can contain your gorge.
Sharpe follows behind Cassie, since he'd get lost otherwise. He uses his shirt to filter out the smell some, but has little success.
Melia stops short, holding her fist up as she looks to the body, frowning behind the mask. She studies the corpse and shakes her head. Prayers for the dead later.
The huddled whispers from deep underneath seem to sigh in pleasure, like a young girl offered her favorite juice. And from the bowels of the mine can be heard a whisper. "Sssweets..." The hissing, sibiliant voice like a child too young for a fully formed palette. In front of Cassie, a small trickle from the rocks above, not unusual in a deep mine, for water to be slowly dripping. Until a drop lands across the back of her hand. Water... isn't crimson.
Cormac's face turns an interesting shade of teal, one hand coming up to cover his nose at the reek of blood and death. Looking behind him, pure anger can be seen to pass over his face for a second, before he lets it go with a shake of his head. Catching Melia's attention, he nods toward the lower passage, eyebrows rising inquisitively.
Cassie senses Sharpe behind her but a second later, she turns to see that the alairs had moved on elsewhere and her ears lower. "Great.." The canine turns back around and then notes something wet on her hand..and..gulps, looking straight up to see what would possibly cause the ceiling to bleed.
Nothing above you but... dark... wet... stone... condensation slick upon it, and underfoot. But... blood. None of it's water. All of it's blood. /All of it is blood/.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Alright, +resist/will"
<Resister> Cassie does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 2!
The Wutaiin shakes her head, motioning in a horizontal circle with her hand as she points further on the upper level. She crouches some as she walks, ears strained for sound.
Sharpe whispers to Cassie. "something wrong?" He can't see very well at the moment, and to be honest, he's not wanting to.
Cormac creeps along the upper level next to Melia, eyes straining in the darkness for some sign of... well, anything, really.
Another sibiliant hiss, and from atop the cavern, another few droplets start to fall, the blood condensing, as though the stench of it were beading together on the roof of the mine, every so often, a crimson droplet beading down, dripping off a point on the rock. Now, in between the hissing, the occasional sound of a droplet hitting a puddle can be heard, echoing softly. A warm wind, like a lover's passionate exhalation, begins to rise from the depths of the mine, sweeping over skin and fur alike, carrying that scent of blood. "... wet... sweet... leave the prisssson of the flesssshy shells...."
Melia stops, hearing the whispers as she glances to Cormac. Her fingers recurl about the daggers in her hands. She feels her stomach clench at the scents, starting to permeate through her mask.
Cassie's fur frizzles out something serious in response to this stimuli. She hastily backs out of the way of the dripping ceiling, the grip on her weapon tightens. Her tail curls underneat herself as she continues further, though with quite a bit less confidence than before.
Cormac's face has gone beyond teal by this point, the blue cast to his features now quite obviously green. Fishing a wad of cloth out of his pocket, he starts to hold it to his nose, before pausing and offering it to Melia instead.
Sharpe raises an eyebrow slowly. "Okay, that's just fucking creepy." He squeezes Cassie's shoulder softly. "Come on, Cass, let's keep going... We've gotta clear this out..."
Melia reaches her hand up and taps at her mask before looking toward the upper level, shaking her head. She takes a few more steps inward, half-crouching.
The trickle of blood increases, into a soft, gradual rain... crimson droplets beginning to sheen on everyone, the lamps starting to gutter, to flicker, as droplets stuff a candle here, a lamp there, sending up the roiling stink of burnt blood. From below, the voice starts to grow plaintive... the child's whisper rising in the guttering, crimson-painted dark... "pleasssse... essscape your prissssons, sisssters and brotherssss... flow... sswwweet blood, join ussss..."
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Everyone... +resist/will. Yes, it's now loud enough everyone can hear this."
<OOC> Bahumat says, "And the voice is seductive."
<Resister> Sharpe does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 4!
<Resister> Cassie does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 7!
<Resister> Cormac does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 2!
<Resister> Melia does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 4!
The voice is... seductive, the plaintive voice, somewhere between the invitation of a lover, and the begging of a young child for a favored treat.
Cormac begins to hold the cloth back up to his nose, his hand seeming to take an odd side-trip toward his wrist, before he looks down at what it is he's about to do. Realization drains the lord's countenance of all color, and he sidles closer to the Wutaiian.
Cassie's ears raise up towards the voice, trying her best to pinpoint the voice. Her heart was beginning to race and still is continuing forward, though at a snail's pace.
Sharpe blinks a bit. "By the All-Father... Cassie, I know what's calling us down... We are in so much fucking trouble... That's Vitae... I recognize the words from its Arcana card."
As though brought on by the naming of it, the rain of blood from the ceiling intensifies, the drops splashing, falling faster, soaking through clothes, soaking the senses, the scent, the taste now, of blood in the air, and the feeling of an itching within... your pulses pounding, almost in sympathy to the dripping of the blood around you, puddles turning to rivulets of blood, all flowing down, down into the mine, deeper, as though called by that plaintive, whispering voice. The floor beginning to grow slick with the blood, the stink of it all raising, overwhelming... it's like drowning in blood, with those who are Slave to Scent. It's everywhere; soaking, dripping, the lamps starting to gutter and die in earnest now, flames snuffed and drowned in blood.
Melia is, of course, too far away to hear Sharpe's words. The red lenses of her mask filter out the color, but the scent still remains all too well in her mind. The coppery tang of the blood causes Melia to clench her eyes shut tightly as she tries to find her center.
Another hissing whisper of the voice, strident and plaintive now: "Comesssss, join usssss! Freesss from the prisssons, bloods, ssssso sssweet, sssso red, sssslip from the veins... join usssss!"
Cormac makes a few quiet, strangled sounds, visibly keeping his stomach where it belongs as he moves in to press closer to the Wutaiian, his hand searching for hers, heedless of his gloves or her knives.
Cassie couldn't smell a thing, the stench was hard wiring itself into her nose. She snorts a little bit in response to the increase in blood. "Okay, what in the heck is a Vitae, what does it do, what would it want here and how do we defeat it? This blood is overwhelming..yuck!"
<Resister> Sharpe does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 0!
<Resister> Melia does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 5!
<Resister> Cormac does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 3!
<Resister> Cassie does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 6!
Sharpe isn't feeling very well at the moment, either. However, as a gambler, he's quite good at not showing things. He's trying to stay strong, if only for Cassie. "Vitae is a legendary gelatin monster, according to the card. The card said that any damage it did to other cards healed it fully. I'm going to assume that it's a flan or other jelly like monster who consumes things for health."
Melia opens her eyes again, hand blindly groping for her husband's but she draws away, whispering harshly, "Don't." Her arms move to wrap around herself as she tries to keep herself together. She whimpers behind that mask.
Cormac's blue-veined skin bleaches almost bone-white, giving him the look of a doll carved of porcelain as the itching in his arms grows ever more insistent. Wrapping his arms around his waist, he continues to look around, Adam's apple bobbing as he struggles to keep his gorge down.
Cassie stops moving for a moment and then turns towards Sharpe and moves a finger towards one of his many quills. She withdraws it a mere inch from his body, shaking her head repeatedly. "What the hell..?"
Sharpe winces softly and almost lets loose a moan of happiness as his hand is cut by Cassie's dagger accidentally. "Free... Gah, what am I saying? Vitae is very dangerous... this is all some sort of spell or something..."
Disturbingly, as Sharpe watches in the guttering light, the blood... doesn't flow down the angle of his hand... instead... it flows away from his hand... down to the floor, a faint trickle joining the rivulets running deeper into the mine. Abruptly, a loud hiss from far below, and then an "Ahhhh!" of joy. "... it joinssss usss usss uss it joinsss be free yessss!" The blood-rain above a monsoon torrent, and there's no doubt, in seconds, the few remaining lit lamps will be drowned out. Seeing past a few feet is hard, the world a crazed mix of blood droplets caught in guttering, flickering firelight, and blood-soaked black stone...
The blood below has gone from rivulets to an ankle-height stream of bright, arterial blood, flowing down... flowing down... calling to it's brothers and sisters in your veins...
Cassie watches this behavior. "I think..it's pulling it towards itself! Tell me, now, what is it weak to and what would be the best way to defeat it?"
Sharpe shrugs a bit. "I don't know! I just know the card! The card doesn't have that kind of information. I suggest letting loose with whatever you have."
The Wutaiin gasps, the itching rising in her skin as she reaches out blindly, slashing at the wall in hopes of hitting a crack in the wall, but it nicks Cormac. A scream erupts from her throat finally, terror at the choking and drowning sensation in the blood, causing her to rip the mask from her face and throw it aside. The rain of blood stains her face and hair.
The blade skitters against blood-soaked walls, offering nothing, and the nick from Cormac's cut swells with blood, joining the stemming flow. The rain of blood intensifies as more and more blood rises around your ankles... and then the last of the lamps are killed by the flow of blood. And now... you're all alone, and in the dark... and the only sound is your breathing, and the torrential rain of blood... and the choking smell.
Cormac staggers, the blade slicing open his cheek and throwing his head to one side. Deep-blue droplets arc through the air, sputtering and hissing where they hit the blood-soaked stone. The leather of his gloves begins to smoke as the thin fluid starts to eat into the tough hide, and his lambent eyes are wide and rimmed with fear.
The sun slowly rises over the horizon.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Everyone... make a +resist/will. Beat 1 if you don't have Slave to Scent, beat 3 if you do."
<Resister> Sharpe does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 7!
<Resister> Melia does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 4!
<Resister> Cassie does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 5!
<Resister> Cormac does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 10!
Cassie reacts immediately and cantrips a bit of fire so that she could see. "Oh this is terrific. Okay Sharpe, let's go. If you remember anything about what this thing's special abilities are outside of that healing bit, let me know. As such, since you effectively can track it to it's source, run ahead of me and follow the flow of your blood and we can take this thing out. I just hope the others are okay."
Sharpe tosses a card towards where the voice originates, growling softly. "I might be the only one with ranged attacks here... Lovely."
<Combat> Sharpe attacks with their Ice Ice Cold Deck using at least one hand and scores 12 succs, dealing 112 damage, without defensive measures
Melia whimpers in the darkness, fingers trying to grab at the slick rocks. Her fingers slide on the wet stone and she drops the knife in her left hand, the knife sinking into the ankle deep blood.
As the smoking blue blood from Cormac hits the flows, it winds it's way down... and abruptly, as if things could not get any worse, the dim torrential gutter of Cassie's flickering light transforms the blood from red to a sickly black-green. And now, it truly is intolerable; the scent of rancid blood, and a scream, horrible and sibiliant, rising from below. The icy card merely freezes a flow of the blood briefly, without any other meaningful effect. The hissing whisper, frantic! "Badddsss bloodsss sourssss poissssssonssss evilsss nosssss!"
Mercifully for Cormac and Melia, without a light source, they are caught unseen by what happens next. Sharpe and Cassie have no such mercy; a tidal wave, a flood, of the hideous green-black, rancid blood, as though vomited up by the bowels of the cave, flooding over them, sweeping them, snuffing out the fire! Blood, everywhere, inescapable, flowing into ears, eyes, mouth, some involuntarily swallowed by all, as the hideous flood of blood sweeps all out of the cave, sweeping you all out across the snow-plains outside the mine...
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Everyone except Cormac, +resist/stamina, score 8 or better."
Cormac crouches over, whimpering quietly, rivulets of thin blue pouring between his fingers, showing no sighs of stopping. His free hand gropes in the darkness, searching for the touch of Melia in the darkness, gurgling against the oceans of coppery-stinking threatening to pull them under.
<Resister> Melia does a stamina resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 4!
<Resister> Sharpe does a stamina resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 0!
<Resister> Cassie does a stamina resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 5!
<OOC> Bahumat says, "You're all [Poisoned]. Cormac, you're not poisoned, just bleeding badly. *snerk*"
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Annnnd... Sharpe and Cassie... One last +resist/will"
<Resister> Sharpe does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 4!
<Resister> Cassie does a willpower resistance check with a 0 bonus. Their resistance level is 0!
[RP/Official] Bahumat rolls 1d5+0 and gets 2 for a result of 2.
- Official* Cassie proves that Cassie has the following jnote:
.____________________________________________________________________. |Item 10: Phobia Minor on Cassie |
|____________________________________________________________________|
|____________________[ Description ]____________________|
|Desc: |
| +rpinfo Phobia Minor -- Cassie has the Phobia Minor: Blood, due to |
| the horrifying events in the Alair mines versus a Vitae monster. |
|____________________________________________________________________|
|____________________[ Other properties ]____________________|
|____________________________________________________________________|
In the aftermath... three heroes, choking on the poisoned blood they'd swallowed, the fourth bleeding profusely, and blood, blood everywhere, over them, on them, and the memories of the horrifying events, burned into their psyches. From within the mines, comes the last dying screams of the poisoned blood monster... a foul stench rising into the air around it, as the festering blood slowly rots and corrodes.
The wave of blood tosses Melia out to the snow, gagging and retching as panic rises up inside of her. The fouled blood oozes from her eyes and her ears, staining her skin and face while she remains hunched over, dagger still tightly clenched in her right hand and her skin itching. The screeching causes her to curl up, hands over her ears as she tries to block out the sound of it.
Cormac stumbles, thrown off-balance and at times completely devoid of footing as he runs/is swept out of the cave, trailing drops and splashes of blue that only serves to further corrode the dying Vitae. When at last he emerges from the mines, he lets himself fall down to his knees and forward, burnt-copper fumes sworling around his blood-soaked clothes.
The blood flow tosses Sharpe out quickly after Melia, the echidna puking his guts up and writhing in agony. There's only so much he can take in the course of a day, and this has very much exceeded that limit.
Cassie happens to notice the blood rushing at her and winces, blocking herself, though it was an utter failure. She's covered in the rancid blood and is blown from her feet in the caves, tumbling head over heels in the stuff. She eventually blacks out inside of the current and when she awakens next, she was soaked in the rancid material and the first thing she does is scream. Loudly. It smelled bloody awful and it was all over her. She panics and scrambles about in the melting snow, much like a fish out of water. The blood had even blurred her vision as she scrambles about in the snow, losing her balance. Her sword is left in the ground where she woke up at.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Anyone have anything for [Poison], and Cormac, you got a way to stop that bleeding?"
- Official* Melia proves that Melia has the following gear:
.____________________________________________________________________.
|Item 9: Aloe on Melia |
|____________________________________________________________________|
|____________________[ Description ]____________________|
| A 'succulant' plant. It's smooth, rubbery stem baring vary little |
| difference in look to its leaves. Its flowers are also just a |
| little rubbery to touch, hanging in upright clusters of drooping |
| pink teardrops. If the poison status is inflicted with less than |
| 5 successes and this plant is used within 3 rounds, Aloe can act |
| as a cure for it. |
|____________________________________________________________________|
|____________________[ Other properties ]____________________|
|Quality [Poor ]|
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Alright, trash it."
<Gear> Melia trashes a Aloe.
The itching burns underneath Melia's clothes as she claws at them, her dagger nicking along her arm. Panic rises up and boils over as she tries to get the soaked fur off of her, hyperventilating before another wave of stomach acid soars upward and decorates the ground before her. Saliva and stomach acid drips down her chin, washing away the blood from her skin as she fumbles blindly and numbly for something at her belt.
<OOC> Melia ponders. Wonder if crushed charcoal would help the poison?
<OOC> Bahumat says, "If you have any sort of medicinal skill, I'll let you get away with the idea. Otherwise, yes, it would, but you wouldn't ICly know that."
Cormac gags, chokes, vomiting out the last traces of the fouled blood. Hunching his back, he crawls further into the snowdrift, grabbing a fistful of packed snow to press against his face. At this point, he's out of decent ideas, and seems to prefer frostbite to bleeding. A silly thing, really, just a cut on the cheek...
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Alright, good enough, Sharpe, Melia, crushed charcoal would help now, yes."
Turning away from the puddle of vomit and having shoved an aloe leaf between her teeth and chewing on it, Melia blindly gropes at her belt for another vial. Bringing it before her eyes, she manages to mumble around the aloe leaf in her mouth, "Have any water? Got something for poison." The last of the precious juices of the aloe leaf flow down her throat, just barely neutralizing the poison burning in her veins, forcing her to spit out the spent leaf to the snow.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "It'll mean you'll puke and it won't cure you, but it'll slow the poison enough you can get back to town. Hopefully."
Sharpe moves over to Melia and offers some distilled water. "Here," he croaks.
Sharpe gives Distilled Water(Gear) to Melia.
Sharpe gives Distilled Water(Gear) to Melia.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Charcoal.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Distilled Water.
Cassie is running through the snow, hollering something serious. She comes to a tree and bends over, throwing all of her stomach contents all over the ground. She sits there for a second..looking at her vomit for a second. "The clothes. I'm covered in it! Eeeccch! No!" And with that, there was a discarding of her blood soaked clothes in a rapid fashion, nearly ripping them off of herself.
A dose of charcoal, enough for two... now to drink it, and force some down Cassie's panicking throat?
A small plume of steam begins to rise from Cormac's stinking, blood-soaked form, as the lord continues to grab handful after handful of snow, shoving it against his face only slightly faster than his blood can eat it away.
Melia rests on her knees as she opens the cap on the distilled water, shaking hands pulling a piece of charcoal from her belt and she crushes it in her hand, sprinkling the bits into the water before she shoves it at Sharpe. "Drink it."
Sharpe shakes his head and takes the mixture to Cassie. "Her first..." He smiles softly at her. "Cassie, calm down... we're alive, we made it... Drink this, you're sick... It will make you better."
Cassie look sback towards Sharpe, looking fairly demented...in that split second, removing her coat, her shows, and was starting on her sweater. SHe turns towards SHarpe and snatches the drink, downing whatever was left as a mild bit of rationality comes in. "W-w-w-hat was with the water?"
Sharpe chuckles. "Charcoal. It helps cure poison." He looks to Melia. "Do you have any more charcoal?"
<Gear> Melia trashes a Cloak of darkness.
Looking to Cormac, the moment of decision comes from Melia. She digs in behind her belt and pulls out a flowing cloak of the purest darkness. A prized possession as she looks at it endearingly before her knife cuts into the expensive fabric, blue sparks rising up from it. Her face is grim and set to the point of tears before she looks up at Sharpe and shakes her head quickly. Another tearing strip and more of the blue sparks as her knife cuts through the expensive cloak.
Cormac looks back at the sound of tearing fabric, blood continuing to leak between his fingers with no signs of slowing. His legs shake as he tries to get to his feet, his steps erratic and stumbling toward Melia. But for the thick trail of dried blue, the lord of Alair would seem nothing more than a stinking, animated blood pudding, the congealed stuff matting his fine furs, staining clothing and turning hair into a clumped mess of knots.
Cassie goes back for her weapon and messily sheathes it, and wanders on back into town with an immense whimper, obviously shaken up pretty badly.
Sharpe isn't doing so well currently. He's looking rather sick.
Melia rises to her feet and presses the cut bandages from the former cloak of darkness to Cormac's cut cheek. Her gaze looks away from the congealed blood on her husband, trying to keep down tears from destroying such a priceless item--to her, at least.
( Cormac's bleeding is controlled by the sacrifice of the priceless, sentimental item... but the blood is stopped, at least for now, the corrosive blood eating steadily through the fabric, requiring frequent replacement. Time to rush him back to town. But what of the languishing Sharpe, poison burning in his veins, sickening his stomach, leaving nothing but the desire to dry-heave? )
Sharpe begins to lurch his way towards town, looking more green than usual. "My clothes... are ruined... I feel horrid..."
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Sharpe... you've got... maybe 4 or 5 IC minutes before you'll collapse into unconsciousness. [Poison] status won't kill you, but it'll keep you at 0 HP and Dying until cured."
Cormac gives his wife a look of thoroughly guilt-ridden gratitude, and squeezes her shoulder with a sticky hand, turning to look at the writhing, quietly suffering Sharpe. "Go on, my dear," the lord says, "rouse Kagane, make sure you're all right. I'll be along shortly with him." Unclasping his cloak, he gives Melia another pat on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, truly..."
"I'll be fine," Melia responds before moving toward the echidna. "Get his other shoulder," she mutters, picking up the shredded bandages left of the cloak. "Need to get him back to town."
Cormac nods, stooping next to Sharpe and throwing a limp arm over his shoulder. "Come on, lad," he mutters, voice hoarse and thick, "let's get you cleaned up..."
[RP/Official] Bahumat rolls 1d10+0 and gets 1 for a result of 1.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "The dice are sadists today."
Sharpe pukes as he's lifted. He's no longer all there. "o/~ Highwind Point psyyyyyycho.... o/~ Heee... I'm floating..."
In the distance, the howl of monsters, drawn by the reeking smell of blood... And here you all are, soaked in blood... monster bait.
The situation grim; howls of monsters heard, a poisoned, fainting man slowing you down... the entire area soaked in poisoned blood.
Cormac's eyes dart left and right. "Melia... Can you make it to town...?"
Oh, and while we're at it, steadily, slowly disintegrating bandages wrapped around Cormac's face.
"Take him and run," Melia responds tersely, sliding the knife back to her hand. She gropes absently for her other knife, lost somewhere in the mine flood. "Give me that cloak and his overcoat."
Cormac opens his mouth to offer a rebuttal, closing it again as the monsters howl again. Shoving the cloak toward Melia, he gives her arm a squeeze. "Don't you dare die out here," he says, hurriedly stripping Sharpe of his overcoat.
Sharpe tries to run towards the sound of howling. "Sheraaaaa~d? Is that yoooouuu?"
In the distance, vague, shifting forms, drawn to the scent of blood... about a half-kilometer away, the sight of a Lobo, and then a slime... and other creatures... melting out of the treelines from upwind... howling... masses of them.
Melia catches the cloak in one hand and smiles to her husband, "Keep the bed warm." As soon as the overcoat is stripped, she snags it and takes off running in the opposite direction, yelling at the top of her lungs and dragging the cloak and overcoat through the snow, spreading the scent of the blood.
Cormac hooks an arm around the echidna's throat, dragging him back and throwing him over the lord's shoulder like a sack of meal. "Not today, lad... We've got to get you well." With that, the lord takes off for town, ignoring the renewed trickle of blood that begins to fall down his cheek.
As Sharpe puts his hands in Luck's fickle fate, Luck tests skill... and a tragic trip and fall, tearing open Cormac's bandage on Sharpe's spines, both going down in a tangle in the deep snow, stinking of blood.
[RP/Official] Bahumat rolls 1d100+0 and gets 20 for a result of 20.
[RP/Official] Bahumat rolls 2d5+0 and gets 4 5 for a result of 9.
Cormac ignores the renewed bleeding, worrying only about getting back to town. Grabbing the echidna by a handful up spines, he hauls Sharpe into a position of any sort of leverage with which he can pick the gambler back up and get moving.
Sharpe gets hefted up and laughs before puking.
The massive monsters, behemoth, dragons, fierce creatures, begin to converge on the greater source of blood; and the lesser monsters, seeing them squeezed out of opportunity, turn towards the harder prey, the blood-stinking targets running across the snowplain, floundering. Four peel off towards Melia... 5 more, peel off towards Cormac...
The monsters individually look trivial... but there's a pack of them bearing down for each target.
Melia tosses the cloak to the far right, the overcoat to the far left. Her pace slows, readying herself to take on the four monsters inbound toward her, wishing she had the other knife in her hand. Hopefully, in her thoughts, Cassie has been thoughtful enough to send for help.
Cormac's lips skin back from his teeth, the lord pelts down the road, straining for every available foot of distance before the pack overcomes him and forces him to fight what seems to be a largely hopeless battle. "Colonel," he mutters, "if I see no guards, I will bleed your *house* down..."
The distance begins to close, the monsters fanning out, taking their time, sensing the wounded, ensuring they cover what avenues of escape they can. Nine monsters in total... and a man so badly poisoned at this rate, even the most trivial of monsters could maul him to death in a minute. Can Cormac defend Sharpe against the horde?
The figures begin to resolve, the closer they approach... a glowing imp-type of creature, a crystalline humanoid with serrated edges everywhere... and something unspeakable, a dense core of something monstrous, an energy core of a WEAPON glowing faintly... surrounded by more each of their respective ilk.
The creatures are 500 feet away, and prowling closer.
Melia moves toward and at an angle near the monsters inbound for her, unsnapping a few small canisters from her belt--is there anything she doesn't keep on that thing? She holds it and prepares to lob the smoke bombs at the enemy.
- Official* Melia proves that Melia has the following gear:
.____________________________________________________________________. |Item 11: Smoke bomb on Melia |
|____________________________________________________________________|
|____________________[ Description ]____________________|
| This small pellet can be tossed at the ground to create a |
| distraction. If used for the purpose of fleeing, it decreases the |
| difficulty of such by 1/2/3. If used mid-battle, it will catch |
| 1/1d2/1d3 targets in a billowing cloud of smoke. They must +resist |
| vs a target of 8/10/12 or become [Confuse] for three rounds. |
| Invented by Melia Qiaohui in 1026 AH. |
|____________________________________________________________________|
|____________________[ Other properties ]____________________|
|Quality [Average ]|
|quantity [13 ]|
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Sack 'em all, run back to Sharpe and Cormac, and start running, you might have a chance..."
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
<Gear> Melia trashes a Smoke bomb.
The releases on her belt are quick as she takes off in a frenzied run toward Cormac and Sharpe, throwing more of the smoke bombs over her shoulder as she grunts, "Run now." She snags Sharpe's sleeve. "If you fall, echidna, I leave you for the monsters."
Cormac grabs Sharpe by his other shoulder, physically lifting the gambler off the ground in his mad dash for town. If he falls in this state, it'll be because he's already beyond saving...
Sharpe runs as fast as he can, mainly because he's being yanked along. His little legs are moving, but they may or may not actually be hitting the ground.
<Movement> Light Frenzied Orc runs with a base movement of 30, they can move up to 33 feet this round.
<Movement> Normal WEAPON runs with a base movement of 33, they can move up to 52.8 feet this round.
<Movement> Crystal Monk runs with a base movement of 30, they can move up to 33 feet this round.
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Cormac, Melia, +move/run please."
<Movement> Sharpe runs with a base movement of 36, they can move up to 75.6 feet this round.
<Movement> Cormac runs with a base movement of 36, they can move up to 75.6 feet this round.
<Movement> Melia runs with a base movement of 45, they can move up to 108 feet this round.
Happily, even while carrying Sharpe, the two of you manage to outrun the hordes... and make it to town safely, the guards at the gate firing off arrows to ward off the most persistent stragglers.
Victory music plays!
<OOC> Bahumat says, "Congrats, folks, you all survived. :) 10 Mako to whoever gets a cleaned log
=>rp <Cormac says, "A pair of blood-soaked people come pelting through Northgate, monsters of every shape and description driven from their heels by guard archers! One of them look to be carrying a third, near death!">
Melia manages to drag along Sharpe and Cormac as she ducks in behind the gate, letting the archers at the gates take care of things. She rests her hands on her knees, feeling herself want to vomit. She's covered in congealed blood, the scent rancid and sickening.
Sharpe is looking very, very ill, and looks to be moments away from dying.
Taking quick stock of the situation, the young man eyes the horizon, evaluating the archers' defensive covering fire. Placated for the moment, he strides over to the group, kneeling to check the citizens. "Ambush?" Is all he growls out as his piercing blue eyes studying the trio.
Cormac emeges from the Northgate, holding Sharpe up nearly of the ground in one thickly-muscled arm. The lord Alair is a frightful sight, coated in rancid, thickening blood, a cut on his face streaming a hissing blue liquid that eats away as his clothes. "Monster," he croaks, dropping Sharpe and tumbling to his knees, acidic blood eating away at the ramped-down snow. "In the mines... dead... we hope..."
Darren has arrived.
Sharpe croaks out, "Vitae... in mines... blood everywhere..."
Sion has arrived.
Vespers blinks and bolts closer, "Oh gaia." he whispers, "I... please let me see him I'm a healer.'
Snapping his attention to a rookie city guard, Cade, who looks MAYBE two years older than him at the most, barks an order. "Stand there an' watch them die will ye? Get the ruttin' doctors out here." Casting about, he turns to the trio. "I don't know an'thing 'bout patchin' ye up, but we'll getcha fixed. How many didja leave when you retreated?" He flickes another gaze to the gates, keeping an eye on the harrassing creatures.
Melia shivers and shakes, the chill of the air getting into her bloody clothes. She drops to her knees and hugs her arms around herself, tears pouring down her cheeks and washing a path through the congealed blood dried on her cheeks. A dry heave shakes her as she grabs her stomach.
Sion comes walking in from the harsh outside, binding his sword as he passes through the gates. He sighs, and frowns as bit as he sees the gathering, Tilting his head to one side as he blinks and the moment he sees Melia, he begins to hurry over.
Darren strides purposefully down the street from the direction of the Alair house, eyes focusing on the three blood-soaked people. He takes a look around at others, then moves to Cormac's side. "Milord?" His drawling voice carries a sharp note of concern. "What's goin' on here?"
Sharpe looks to be badly poisoned, a shudder passing over him for a moment. "Vitae... is dead... Blood turned rancid..."
Cade lets out a disgusted growl. "Where IS that damn boy. You and you," he points to the two new arrivals. "ya'll gonna help me take'em to the hospital or do I drag 'em one at a time?" He removes his cloak, revealing a beaten woolen shirt and simple pants beneath, hardly appropriate for the weather. Wrapping around the dieing man as best he can, he tightens it to the figure's shape. "Come on now, you'll die of cold 'fore that stuff gets ya."
"Blood monster... killed all the miners in the Alair mine,[Wutaiin]" Melia manages between the dry heaves and the crying. Her eyes look to Sion, discordant green and red gaze looking to her fellow countryman. Her fingers claw at her blood-soaked clothes.
Sion comes to a sprint, and stops in front of Melia, supporting her shoulders as best he can, and then suddenly he unclips his swordbelt, letting it fall to the ground, and from that he pulls off his thick hooded tunic top, nodding to her once as he reaches out and makes to yank the blood-stained top away from her, regardless of vanity or propriety, ((Be strong Qiaohui... you're supposed to outlive me as your revenge for my denying your rightful marriage... it would be unseemly for a mere monster to stop you from proper sating of honor...)) though there is a desperate edge to his mental voice as he gives her a quick checkover.
Darren grabs one of Cormac's arms as the lord falls to sleeping sickness, looking to Melia. His eyes scan the older woman carefully. "Can you help me take Lord Cormac to the doctor, Mel?" His drawling voice is a bit hushed sounding, and surprisingly calm. He looks to Cade with a nod. "If you've got the hurt one under control, sir, I'll help the Lord and Lady home t' see Doc Kagane."
Vespers frowns, and kneels near sharpe, "They need to get inside, and out of that clothing as soon as we can, but this one needs attention right now." he bites his lips and looks sharpe over, "He's been posioned, I think i can get his body to purge it, what about the other two?"
Melia isn't hurt from appearances, just badly shaken. Cormac, on the other hand, seems to have just a cut on his cheek that won't stop bleeding, caustic blue blood spitting and sputtering as it patters on the ground. The kunoichi looks to her student and then to Sion, adrenaline finally leaving her system as she loses consciousness, falling over in a faint.
Sion moves himself to catch Melia, and lower her to the ground, finishing his task of removing the bloodstained top, and then covers her with his tunic-top, putting the hood over her mouth lightly so she can keep the warmth in. Looking up at Vespers, he gives a somewhat reassuring smile, and makes a motion with his hands against his cheek like he was sleeping.
Sharpe shivers and convulses, dry heaving a bit.
Darren sighs as Melia collapses. He nods to Sion as the young man catches the woman. "Any chance you could get her back to the Alair house, sir?" he says. "Doc Kagane should be able to check on 'em if we get 'em there." He takes a moment to smile at the healer tending to Sharpe, then makes a game effort to lift Cormac which results in losing the extant grip on the lord's arm, leaving him to fall unceremoniously to the ground. Damned sleeping sickness.
Vespers sighs and begins to whisper softly, beads of white mana forming on his hands as he waves them acrossed sharpe's body, dropping like a soft rain acrossed the gamblers form.
"Ojibway tibluag gonzo kawistate otela whurf bana kawhurgwaka wakamaskwa.[Lingo]"Cade spits. "Best chance they got. Dunno where the Uh-lair house is, so I'll foller ya." Allowing the mage to cast his spell, the foreigner hefts the near unconscious man to his shoulders, rising with a moment of difficulty, he steadies his feet and waits for the others, his features set to a grim resolve not often found on one so young.He shifts the near dead man onto his shoulders, rising with a moment of difficulty, he steadies his feet, checking the others as they assist as well.
Sharpe is mostly unconcious, though the poison seems to have been taken care of for now.
Sion looks once to the others, and then he gently picks up Melia, grunting slightly at the weight of another full being. Leaving his tunic to cover her, and the remnants of her bloody clothes on the frosted earth, the man begins a steady and silent walk towards the town square.
Vespers makes a face as the bloody clothing is just left there and looks for a stick or something
End
