illusions in the mist. [Now open thanks to ninja subthreading.]
Characters: Rishfee, Vincent Valentine, General Rughadjeen, Eiko (You are stowing along, right?) Auron (I believe. Lemme know if Ive been informed wrongly.)
Progress: Ongoing.
Summary: Caedarva Mire exploration / Azouph isle staging point discovery / boss fight / aftermath. Luzaf's UNEXPECTED TURNING UP IN FINE FORM AT THE WORST TIME EVER will be included in another log, we already have quite a lot to get through.
Location: Caedarva Mire.
Date: 02/02
Warnings: A few. Epic Quest! Creepiness, lamia, preserved genocide aftermath, soulflayer, (really bad descriptions of) gore / mental defect, NO POSTING ORDER YAY, mindgoboom, tentacles, blue mages gone wild. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD YOU N00B, DON'T MELEE THE SOULFLAYER. Possible/Probable big fluffy sheep murder, Oh, and coffee. Yes, coffee.
The mire was dark, and it was foreboding. The stench of death, already prevailant even in the outskirts of the forsaken wasteland known as Caedarva was unbearable once within the black shroud which made up the territory. It was barely possible to even see 10 feet in front thanks to the heavy, thick, stinking fog-- and barely possible to know what brushed past your leg thanks to a reluctance to turn your nose to what appeared to be the source of the stench.
...Maybe it was a treant, a small, bulb-like creature that with life of its own that often amused itself by stalking unsuspecting passers by. Maybe, more worryingly, it was a chigoe- a filthy ball of an insect with a venomous bite. Or maybe it was a protruding, hard substance entwined with the grasses of the mire... a twig... or the rotting arm of one who had sunk into the swamp - still outstretched. Still begging for assistance, though the owner had long since been forsaken of anything of the sort.
With Rishfee, it was the latter. Silently, he moved his own arm down to brush the skeletal claw aside and continued walking. Light, careful steps. He raised his head quickly as a faint giggle travelled through the air. A Lamia... perhaps two. But they were far. Turning his head, he breathed the smallest amount of guidance to those that travelled with him. "Do not set foot in the tall grass. And follow me. If you hear an Imp.... stop immediately. Kill it immediately. It doesn't matter what kind of invisibility spell you use. They will see you... and they will summon the others..."
His words were interuppted. Voices. Spectral and distant, yet brimming with anger. Malice. The worst kind of rage. deep-sated, voracious, sofilled with hate, they would quite simply burst with their malice. Yet they were pained. So pained...
Yet the pain only added to their anger.
Whereever they were... They wanted to come. They wanted to engulf the group which set foot inside the mire, simply because of two members. Yet they wanted to rip them all asunder.
Imperials...
Those who serve... the accursed emperor... Lapdogs...
That smell...so familiar... Cannot bear this anger...
Vile emperor...
You... You!!
The voices seemed to all join together to create a deafening cry; and then they were gone. Immediately -- replaced with nothing but the sound of the trees as they moved alike the little treants, eyes forever fixed upon the mire. If one listened closely, they could hear more giggles, from more Lamia.. and the distinct sound of the Merrow's harps in the distance.
Progress: Ongoing.
Summary: Caedarva Mire exploration / Azouph isle staging point discovery / boss fight / aftermath. Luzaf's UNEXPECTED TURNING UP IN FINE FORM AT THE WORST TIME EVER will be included in another log, we already have quite a lot to get through.
Location: Caedarva Mire.
Date: 02/02
Warnings: A few. Epic Quest! Creepiness, lamia, preserved genocide aftermath, soulflayer, (really bad descriptions of) gore / mental defect, NO POSTING ORDER YAY, mindgoboom, tentacles, blue mages gone wild. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD YOU N00B, DON'T MELEE THE SOULFLAYER. Possible/Probable big fluffy sheep murder, Oh, and coffee. Yes, coffee.
The mire was dark, and it was foreboding. The stench of death, already prevailant even in the outskirts of the forsaken wasteland known as Caedarva was unbearable once within the black shroud which made up the territory. It was barely possible to even see 10 feet in front thanks to the heavy, thick, stinking fog-- and barely possible to know what brushed past your leg thanks to a reluctance to turn your nose to what appeared to be the source of the stench.
...Maybe it was a treant, a small, bulb-like creature that with life of its own that often amused itself by stalking unsuspecting passers by. Maybe, more worryingly, it was a chigoe- a filthy ball of an insect with a venomous bite. Or maybe it was a protruding, hard substance entwined with the grasses of the mire... a twig... or the rotting arm of one who had sunk into the swamp - still outstretched. Still begging for assistance, though the owner had long since been forsaken of anything of the sort.
With Rishfee, it was the latter. Silently, he moved his own arm down to brush the skeletal claw aside and continued walking. Light, careful steps. He raised his head quickly as a faint giggle travelled through the air. A Lamia... perhaps two. But they were far. Turning his head, he breathed the smallest amount of guidance to those that travelled with him. "Do not set foot in the tall grass. And follow me. If you hear an Imp.... stop immediately. Kill it immediately. It doesn't matter what kind of invisibility spell you use. They will see you... and they will summon the others..."
His words were interuppted. Voices. Spectral and distant, yet brimming with anger. Malice. The worst kind of rage. deep-sated, voracious, sofilled with hate, they would quite simply burst with their malice. Yet they were pained. So pained...
Yet the pain only added to their anger.
Whereever they were... They wanted to come. They wanted to engulf the group which set foot inside the mire, simply because of two members. Yet they wanted to rip them all asunder.
Imperials...
Those who serve... the accursed emperor... Lapdogs...
That smell...so familiar... Cannot bear this anger...
Vile emperor...
You... You!!
The voices seemed to all join together to create a deafening cry; and then they were gone. Immediately -- replaced with nothing but the sound of the trees as they moved alike the little treants, eyes forever fixed upon the mire. If one listened closely, they could hear more giggles, from more Lamia.. and the distinct sound of the Merrow's harps in the distance.