Quest Loot Runners #4: A Quiet Place

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
____________________

The winged elf was trying to get the blood that was splattered on her off her skin as well, she was discovering that it was actually causing an irritation to her skin. Wherever it touched her skin a red rash began to spread that darkened in colour like a fast acting acid. It stung like a thousand tiny mosquito bites. She itched at a particularly bad spot absentmindedly as she kept her eyes on the corridor ahead of them; thankfully it seemed the pair were about to get a few moments of peace.

"Fire is kind of my thing," Caliane's laugh was a husky one so it was quiet, but it was still an odd one in the darkness and considering her state of being. As if to demonstrate her point the last few streaks of disgusting black blood that was on her feathers evaporated in a dark flame that crawled across them. "But they do.... smell foul when burnt to a crisp. What magic do you possess?" she had to admit she was rather curious about the scroll he was brandishing like a weapon. If they didn't have to burn everything to a crisp and could spare themselves the foul smelling muck she was all for that, but she didn't want to leave the mammoth share of dealing with the problem to him. It was unfair.

The buzzing was beginning to get louder now and they had been walking for a while. It seemed as though they were walking now towards the heart of the tower. It seemed to reason their prize was in there or at least above it, for she was pretty sure there was another floor. Either way it meant going through this main central hall to get there. As the light from her fight lit up the beginning of the archway that would lead to the central room. Once inside they would see that the creatures swarmed around the ceiling where they had formed their oozing pile of eggs. They seemed to be constantly on the move in the room, unable to sit still or rest as if something other drove them on. The noise was reaching its crescendo now and it was actually so loud at these close and intimate quarters that the pair would have to shout over one another to be heard.

* * *

Farzad Oldsummer​

 

[Colette]

Treasure 2

---

Colette hadn't noticed it at first but now that she was eyeing the two disgusting green blobs of ghouly flesh approaching them she realized that Donric was panting. Just like her dog back home on the porch on a hot summer day. Was he that out of shape or was it just the heat? Seemed extremely disgraceful for a member of the Anirian Guard.

But, more annoying that his loud breathing, was his mockery. "I'm sorry Donnie! I didn't know there would be such ghastly creatures within the keep. They stink worse than anything I've ever smelt and they're so repulsive. I don't want one of them anywhere near me," she complained in a way that was almost as whiny as Donric's mocking tone.

No sooner did she finish her explanation did her pudgy comrade charge shield first into the dastardly duo of plague ghouls. Their mouths ripping at the air as he beat them back with mace and shield. When his blunt weapon collided with one of the beast's flimsy skull it splattered the most foul smelling goop she'd been exposed to so far. It was terrible enough to cause an audible dry heave to escape from her lips as she closed her eyelids tight so as not to see the horrific sight.

She drowned out the medic's initial comment about her first missed shot. Colette figured she'd get at least some sympathy from the man, it was the first time she had seen such a terrifying creature and he came at them so fast! Of course her arrow was going to go wide! She kept her eyelids shut as she anticipated the other guardsman from Vel Anir to crush the second ones skull. It wasn't until Donnie's voice called out once more that her cerulean eyes re-engaged the world.

"Sorry!" she called out as she pulled another arrow from her quiver, bit her lip, and let it soar. The thin bolt sailed right past Donric Mannir's shoulder, lightly fluttering a whoosh against his eardrum, before colliding with the ghoul's throat. Colette hoped that Donric knew to back away as the mucky green colored being spat and choked on its own fluids while collapsing into a heap.

The golden haired young soldier marched over to her comrade and patted him on the back, "my bad, I'll uh... try to get my nerves in order. I think we're looking for a room with blankets or pillows. Truth be told I skimmed the notice quickly. I was a bit anxious before this whole thing started." She didn't wait for a reply from him, she just started down the hallway, darting her face back-and-forth to ensure there weren't anymore of those nightmarish things parading around.

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Treasure 1.

To say that Myrcella was disappointed with not being transported home right away was an understatement. Their journey seemed to have no and and her ankle didn't seem to be getting any better when it clearly should. As Richard Henry the Eighth rowed the boat, she left her foot to trail behind in the water, letting the coolness of it sooth the sprain.

"Yes, here we are again.." Myrcella leaned her head against his hand. He knew that she wanted them to be home. There was no need for her to say it. So she refrained herself. "Let's just...try not to have you die this time? Please?"

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Treasure 1

Richard thought about the time he fell off the mountain, the collapsing bridge and him throwing Myrcella Bochanan onto the grass before falling to what he was convinced was his doom. However Richard found himself in the temple along with Mrycella. What happened? Were they magically teleported? It was all just bizzare. The disappointment on Myrcella's face was obvious she wasn't the best at hiding them but it was also etched with worry.

"Die?" Richard said smiling at Myrcella as he ruffled her surprisingly smooth hair. "Unless you think I'm a spooky ghost I don't plan on dying any time soon." The Bard Knight huffed. "Dying is quite boring," he said. "I prefer the thrill of staying alive."

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

He paused at that cusp, just before their voices were finally consumed by the scurrying creatures vile voices, his mouth extended wide, "You want the honest truth? It might not alleviate your worry." He stated, the walls were slinking, stalagmites coated and warped by a foul green. They were finally reaching the mouth of the beast, the fungal growth nothing more than dull fangs pulling in it's prey. "I can't perform magic in its truest sense." He whipped up a smile, looking through the weak torchlight ahead. "Only perform what spells I've made. And I am running low." He clarified his words were finally engulfed by it, the mass of noise, the world around him seemed to be consumed by deafening noise.

His fingers locked around the scroll tighter. The cave seemed to drop directly into the tower, the wide opened tower seemed to not be fully complete, pocketed holes in strategic places seemed to illuminate just well enough but were constantly cut in and out by the Cythir's entering and leaving, not too dissimilar flickering lanternlight . He tried to speak, his mouth open but it felt as if the bugs were crawling in his throat when he parted his lips. He locked them tightly in response and threw away the key. The tower seemed to bubble and fume with the creatures own skin, it didn't pulsate so it wasn't alive, Farzad drew his fingers through the slimey concoction, he sniffed it, immediately getting dizzy from its potent smell. This tower wasn't going to get any less hostile it seemed and in turn he had no intention of staying passive, he took the gruel and tossed it into a small bottle.

S*bzzzz*ud*bzzzz*is la*bzzzzz*r.​

He pulled at the back of the Avariel, throwing one of his scarves over his face and offering it to them in kind and took a few steps a little closer space seemed to be in short supply, and he could see it, his eyes flared up with a passionate fire. *bzzzzzz* He tried to think to himself. Finding it to be of no use he moved his scroll to Staff hand, rolling the staff over his shoulder in a delicate balance as he took in a heavy breath through the thick fabric, he muttered words. They were clearly lost to the waves of noise that bashed everywhere, but a finger peeled the scroll back, it unfurled like some picnic blanket rather than the more traditional drop, the parchment softly flattened onto the foul much, the delicate groves of the paper forming over the foul chunks that quickly seemed to stain the dirty yellow into a foul green, but the ink wa still there though now muddied, the green text fusing and intermingling. He didn't know what it'd do but it seemed to work, arcane light flickered softly, raising a little from the parchment and leaving the intricate work behind them. In truth, it seemed to do nothing.

Caliane Ruinë ​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
________________________

Spells... he.... made...

No it definitely did not fill Cali with any sense of alleviation. If anything, it hardened her stomach into a rock which made her uncomfortable, unhappy, and filled with anxiety. Was she really going to have to let the fire have its full way in order to cleanse this place? It was hard to get it under control when she let it fully go. Fire consumed, it ate away at everything, including at times its host. She was watching the creatures swarm and buzz around their eggs, wondering if it would be best to take out the epicentre of their problem with her flame or just fly into the middle of the space and release all her energy in one blast, when her companion tugged at the back of her hunting gear. It was instinct to flinch a little, her wings automatically moving away from his touch for such things were very intimate and personal, but she did step back. Especially when she realised something was happening to his scroll.

Cali took the scarf between two fingers and then slowly copied him by holding it over her own nose. She assumed for the smell, though in honesty the scarf didn't smell much better given it had also taken in quite a bit of the foul smelling blood the creature had oozed onto him in their last scuffle.

As the light grew, she squinted. She didn't want to miss this but at the same time the light was getting too bright.

* * *

Farzad Oldsummer​

 

[Donric Mannir]

Treasure 2

The arrow whistled past his shoulder and expertly navigated through a gap in his shield and into the monster's vitals. Donric smiled, then move carefully away from the creature as it began to writhe and hiss. Horrible black ichor seeped from the wound and the ghoul slowly crumpled, sagged and deflated, before finally collapsing into a heap. Carefully, once he was certain it was dead, he strode over to the beast and nudged it with his heavy plate boot. There was a pause, but nothing stirred, and Donric breathed a sigh of relief. It was dead. While he had complete faith in Cole's aim, he just wanted to check for his own peace of mind.

"I can fix you up some snuff if you want? It'll calm your nerves and keep you steady." He smiled warmly, reaching into his bag to withdraw a small, standard-issue, pouch of faded tobacco. As he rose back up, his attention shifting back towards the group, he realised that Colette had disappeared. He cursed, stuffing the snuff back into its designated slot and he began to make his way carefully through the darkened corridor before him.

A bedroom. They were looking for a bedroom. The crazy wizard had created a potion that nullified magic, and he'd hidden it in a sodding bedroom. Donric hated wizards. He hated magic. He hated a lot of things right now. But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to come out of this with that stupid glowy magic potion so he could, at least in theory, give that damned wizard a piece of his mind with no repercussions.

Without much care, he began to check each individual room he passed. Despite his attitude, Donric was an experienced veteran. He knew how to fight, he knew how to avoid a fight, and he knew how to search through an oversized, pompous house. The rooms he looked into were beautiful, adorned with masterpiece portraits and beautiful furnishings. But Donric cared little, he wasn't here for the beauty, he was here for the prize. If it wasn't a bedroom or a smelly green ghoul, it didn't hold his attention for long.

Eventually, several rooms down the corridor, he discovered a single bedroom. A vast four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, however, everything else was non-descript or indistinguishable. Time had not been kind to this room. One of the windows was smashed open, flanked by moth-ridden curtains and over the years the sun had clearly bleached everything in the room. Whatever hadn't been decayed by the elements was coated in a layer of dust, several inches thick.

He sighed and begun to tear the room apart. A few moments passed, a brief incident involving his mace and a mannequin sneaking up on him ensued, but otherwise, it was uneventful. Donric uncovered nothing for his efforts and angrily stormed out of the room.

"Who hide's a powerful magical artefact in a bleeding bedroom. I am going to throttle this bloody wizard if I ever meet him." He grumbled to no one in particular, then set about trying to regroup with the rest of his party.

 

[Jair]

Treasure 3​

Jair smiled at Darla, "Aint nuttin but brute force" the giant replied. It was true when it was came down to it, the eldritch giant was a magical brute, he lacked any finesse, or precision that a true mage had. He just knew how the make runes to make something big happen usually ugly.

"Thanks" he finally retorted, and picked up the rear. He had the ability to reach over his compatriots. Goblins were buried alive, and some were starting to dig themselves out. Right up until the point where the giants clod stompper was placed directly on top of them, in the dirt, and ground into berm that was made when the wave of dirt crashed against immovable objects.

In the deeper parts of the city, the sound of buildings shifting under their now unbalanced weight, and ground stone against stone.

He helped his new found buddies, with the heavy lifting of fallen pillars, and the like out of the way. When he came upon ways impassible by a giant he worked his way around till he caught up again. When he did part ways from time to time the sound of something incredibly heavy smashing against something incredibly hard could be heard.

When ever he'd show back up he smiled a the group, and continued on again. Eventually the powdered marble in the middle of his ground zero, turned into gravel, and the building went from rubble to ruins. Where the powder, and gravel met water there was mud, mud enough to make a bog. Plants were uprooted, and tossed around.

 

[Colette]

Treasure 2

As she trailed away from her comrade she heard his suggestion of snuff. It certainly intrigued her as she’d never had it before, despite Donric’s insistence she take it a few dozen times prior. This endeavor was the first time she felt she may actually want to take him up on the offer to calm her nerves. Those ghoulies were a certain kind of terrifying.

She’d turned a sharp corner around the ancient keep’s elaborate hallway network, her ally now out of sight. The carpeting at her feet was plush and stained a lovely deep blue. Down the hallway she noticed that there were several sconces covered in cobwebs, dust, and a few of them were brittled or cracked. On the walls themselves sat portraits of elven nobles dressed in frilly, elaborate clothing. Despite the obvious age of the paintings there was no sign of dust or grime. Perhaps they were bewitched.

Sitting in the middle of the hall was a room with its large oaken door ajar. The sunny haired warrior from Vel Anir couldn’t help but peek her head inside of it. Part of her thought it best to turntail and try to find Donric. It was safer to stick together. That thought was immediately dismissed once she saw the room before her. There seemed to be a massive bookcase that covered the entirety of the walls. Several of the scrolls and tomes were glowing a bright silvery color that seemed to radiate a powerful spell. What could this room have been? A repository of knowledge? Elves were an odd bunch, causing everything important to glow.

Lapis eyes locked into one particular book. It was large, a section of the case seemed to be cut out to make room specifically for it, and it was surrounded by several of the dazzling scrolls of light. Colette walked towards it cautiously, aware that there could still be threats lurking. Unable to resist her curiosity a nimble hand traced the spine of the book’s dusty leather. She attempted to pull down on the top of it only to hear a chain and clink. The bookcase itself was sliding open to reveal a dark cobblestoned staircase before her.

Excitement welled up within her as she stepped into the darkness only to be interrupted by a sudden shuffle and groan that she had become all too familiar with. Swiftly the young woman stepped backwards, falling back into the bookcase room. Shambling out of the shadows was yet another of the foul creatures they’d been battling.

Colette fumbled with an arrow, dropping it and allowing the beast enough time to lurch forward. It proved to be a costly mistake as the plague monster bit down at her right shoulder. She let loose a wicked scream of pain as her eyes welled up with tears. With her left hand she retrieved the dropped arrow and stabbed with it forward, breaking the flimsy wood of the missile as it dug into the beast’s throat.


Whatever venom was within the creature’s mouth was coursing through her blood at this point. She felt a burning sensation at the location of the bite and knew that it was only a matter of time until she likely lost consciousness.

”Donric! Help! Hurry! It hurts!” she didn’t know if he even knew how to treat such an injury but she did know that without his arrival and medicine it wouldn’t be long until something serious occurred. She just hoped that it was her comrade that responded to her cries for help before another of those awful things.

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

TREASURE 3: LOWER DISTRICT

Spoiler

Could you imagine a raider band with a giant?

The thought of it brought a smile to Majister's face. Why, naturally such would entail the shrewd choosing of where ambushes would be feasible--giants didn't exactly excel at hiding--but, oh, imagine the levels of boldness attainable with such raw strength as part of the team!

See there, how Jair could easily move aside those fallen pillars and debris choking the staircase. And yet even this impressive feat paled to the show the giant had put on before! Oh the possibilities of brazenness waiting to be unleashed in such a reality! Caravans of magnificent size cowed by the sight of a giant, made to capitulate without even a single hand laid upon the hilt of a sword by either side.

Well, if nothing more, business would surely be booming here in Dar'dell against these goblins. Majister did so enjoy a few violent transactions here and there, especially against sniveling little creatures as these. He was no Monster Hunter--far from it!--but he was rather partial to violence against beasts and monsters and creatures as opposed to humans and others; why, there it was far more fulfilling to use one's wit and charm to control the flow of events.

Majister, Darla, Krull, and Jair crossed the bridge over the waterfall next. The bridge was enclosed yes, but the ceiling was particularly high--matching the general style of the receiving hall and presumably the rest of the city. Jair shouldn't have too much trouble stooping or making his own path. The sound of rushing water flowing over the edge and falling all the way down to the river below, the very same river they had arrived on. A look through the arching pillars supporting the roof of the bridge offered a stunning, if dizziness-inducing, view from on high across the great span of the cliff face and the ornate buildings below, built closer to the waters of the river. And this was merely the Lower District. The great Keep towered even higher above them, housing within it the Golden Aura Potion.

At the end of the bridge, the courtyard of the mighty Church awaited them. The colossal construction had been made strong, and had no suffered any structural damage from Jair's quake. And speaking of Jair, the doors to the Church were twice the size of the giant himself. Why on Arethil had the elves here made such humongous doors? The question could be begged all day long, but no answer would be forthcoming. Majister could only assume that the doors, like the towering square pagoda spires comprising the corners of the Church, were built so to inspire awe and to impress deeply the skill and dedication to so grand a project.

Fortunately, the doors were open, the left door more so than the right. It was likely that either door had not been moved in many years.

Majister and his raiders gathered beside the doors to the Church. Majister peered in, and, much like the receiving hall, the evidence of goblin infestation was abundant, their crude dwellings and abundant filth and rampant vandalization of the Church's Nave readily apparent.

Majister turned back to his comrades. Jair, in particular, who might have another trick up his enormous sleeve (so to speak). And he said, "They're in there, ah yes, believe you me! Now then, we've this one entrance but plenty of space inside the Nave in which to maneuver. How shall we approach this, hmm?"

An idea. Oh yes, one with some merit.

Now Majister looked up directly at Jair. Said with a devious smirk, "What do you say are the chances of you knocking one of these massive doors off of its hinges? Wouldn't it simply be gorgeous if all these goblins surely inside were to gather up, only to be crushed by one of these gargantuan constructions?"

Jair

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Treasure 1.

Myrcella smirked a little as Richard Henry the Eighth ruffled her hair, almost batting his hand away in a playful manner. Despite the seriousness of their situation, he always managed a way to find some childish humour in it all.

"Good. I'd hate to have to try to crawl all the way home without you. I don't think I'd ever make it." And that was the truth of it. Without Richard she'd be dead or kidnapped or even enslaved.

After looking to their surroundings along the riverbanks, Myrcella lifted her foot out of the water and gently placed it down in the boat. She glanced down at her ankle and noticedthe bruising seemed to be worse instead of being better. "What are we looking for again thus time?" Sometimes people's speaches were so long and boring that she tended to tune them out.

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Treasure 1

Richard smiled when Myrcella Bochanan playfully slapped his hand away from her hair. If there was one thing she fought to stay clean was her hair. It still looked silky smooth despite their misadventures around Arethril. "It will be pretty fascinating!" Richard said. "The adventures of Myrcella Bochanan crawling her way through the jungles and the mountains evading monsters, bandits and weather! Imagine the songs that'll be sung in your honor!"

He chuckled as he saw Myrcella's ankle, somehow it was getting worse. The bruising was getting bigger though the swelling has gone down. Richard's smile faded a bit as he leaned in and kissed her forehead. "As long as I'm here," he said. "You'll remain safe and beautiful."

The boat touched the sandy, rocky beach causing Richard to sigh as let go of the paddles. "You really ought to pay attention," he said getting up from the boat and looking around. "The first rule of survival is to pay attention to your surroundings. Maybe it was number 2, I don't know. According to the Wizard we are searching for another blade. An Elven one, it is a blade made of pure crystal said to be so sharp that it can cut through armor even magical ones."

The Bard Knight then picked up Mrycella carrying her bridal style. "Of course we need to watch out for Monsters," he said. "So let's try to keep our presence to a minimum."

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

The light met a crescendo, the forms and figures, letters and runes seemed to shake, not fully balanced in the air, Farzad rose up, turning to look at Caliane, raising a finger to his scarf covered mouth as if to imply silence, the same finger than pointed to the next room ahead, and he made the motion that it was time to continue, the light still flickering in the cacophony of buzz and screeches from the breeding pit.

He didn't want to stay long, looking around in the muck and mired squalor it didn't seem to have any door to leave, but there was what one could assume was once stairs. He started to head there, his stride determined even through the stink and bog and almost slipping as he pressed down on the first step. There was light, soft light, indirect if he was to guess, coming out from a tiny pinprick hole, it seemed slimy, like something had lubricated it for swift and easy entry.

He tried to call out to the Avariel, before looking at the cascading flight of wings. He didn't see much point, he'd either alert the vicious horde, or be on deaf ears. Instead he waved them over, he grew small, bending and hunching hismelf over as he prodded the ground with the butt end of his staff for balance, climbing with cautious steps. It was a strange mix of sticky and slippery, like some cobweb that hadn't decided it's job yet. The light seemed to flicker.

Odd.
​

As he took another step forward, he realized just why that light had flickered, the tube seemed to puke it out, the skin peeled back, just a second so Garzad's attention was drawn, he could see the texture underneath, the old architecture was untouched. Just covered. Like moss to a stone, he tried to reach out, swipe it away and free this building and the knowledge it might have, before his body was knocked prone. The tube spat out a Scythir, his body in it's way as he was knocked prone, slipping and sliding down the sticky trail of the staircase, the cold floor below catching him in it's foul net. Farzad was once again at the whim of the nest, and the Scythir, let out a terrible, foul and cruel roar. The wings stopped for a second, an odd silence before the storm. And if this was the moment before the storm, the soft pitter patter of the legs was the rain, the buzz of the wings was the thunder, and soon came the lightning. Farzad, in this case, was the lightning.

"Caliane cut yourself!"​

He looked around, his staff had been knocked away and caught, laying against a sticky and foul pile. The Scythir wasn't far off, only a hands length, and it's foul mantid arms was the best he had, he dragged his arm up and out of the green sludge, dragging his hand along it's claws, only a few razors in and his hand was stuck, it was strange. He didn't feel much pain, but he saw the red seem to flow. He didn't have time to worry, the Scythir above let out their scream, they started to descend from the rooftop's, a few loose eggs plummeting to the ground and cracking open, half born fetuses letting out terrible moans that only served to accentuate the buzzing swarm.

Sil Delidore Quasane
​

The air seemed to explode with translucent spirals. The works of fictional scribbles twisted and formed, shifting into a massive single ball before exploding outwards in a hypnotic wash of green, the room was bathed in it, an overwhelming, almost mind numbing soothing came through, if it wasn't for the throbbing pain that Farzad experienced, he might've been susceptible. Except. He wasn't in pain.

He bleed sure, but his eyes grew wide and intoxicated, numbed like so many of the Scythir, there was passiveness in the air, and Farzad had zoned out. Numbing... Agent... He thought to himself clearly but couldn't move. His spells had backfired many times, this was the first time it backfired in this manner.

Caliane Ruinë ​

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
_____________________

The roar of the wings was getting louder as Cali slunk into the main hall after the wizard, holding the scarf over her mouth as she did so. Unlike the human this was a much harder thing for a being with wings and she had the distinct feeling she looked ridiculous with her wings have splayed and her the slight rock to her movement caused by the broken left one. Probably like some extinct flightless bird. Whilst he felt the way ahead Cali turned her eyes up to keep an eye on the multitude of Scythir in the air. They didn't seem to have spotted them just yet; they were too busy concentrating on their disgusting offspring. The larvae occasionally dripped on the pair and Cali gave a muffled squeak as one drop landed on her head and oozed into her hair. All she could think was how oddly cold it was and she shuddered, resisting the urge to set fire to everything.

Her attention was wrenched back to her partner when she felt the tug on his scarf and saw him skidding down a step into another bulging pile of the horrible eggs. Everything went silent and then.

Well no need for stealth anymore. Cali tried to get to her feet but they skidded under her as if she were on ice and she crashed back down with a curse on one knee. More carefully this time she managed to get both feet under her but they still slid in every direction as she waded her way forward. She fell again when she made an attempt to grab him, sending herself skidding into a wall. The slime was all over her feathers now, across her skin, sealing the dirt and grim from the landslide even deeper into her skin. She didn't get much choice in the matter of whether she wanted to cut herself or not for in the fall she had landed on a fallen spear and slice her forearm open.

She watched as the blood travelled upwards and wondered if she was hallucinating but then she noticed the creatures above had gone still, but so had the Wizard. Scrambling to her feet she grabbed the staff that was nearby and used it as an extra crutch to get across the sticky floor to the stairs.

"What did you do?" Cali glanced between him and the creature and then the blood. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she muttered something in a very old language, though the tone probably gave him the gist she thought he was an idiot. Planting her feet she heaved him up and over her shoulder in a firemans carry and then steadily slipped her way up the stairs to where she assumed the treasure was.

When they got to the stop she set him back down on the ground and inspected the wound - at least there was no slime here. Carefully she took his arm and twisted it this way and that.

"This is going to hurt," she warned, her green eyes were a sea of calm as she closed her hand over the wound and sent a little trickle of fire through his system to cleanse it of its poison and seared it shut.

* * *

Farzad Oldsummer​

 

[Donric Mannir]

Treasure 2

Donric was enjoying the silence. With no one around he found some solace, he even began to appreciate the architecture and decorations that lined the hallway. While most of it was marred by age, decay and teeth marks from the occasional ghoul, some of it still glittered in shimmering colours and vivid displays. Then he heard the shouting, he heard his name. Everything soured. He hated elves, he hated ghouls, this place was a cesspit and it should burn.

For all his faults, of which there were many, Donric wasn't a bad guy to have at your back. He was a hulking figure with over a decade of combat and medical experience under his belt. Despite all his grumbling and pessimism, he truly cared about his comrades. Which meant that on the occasion one was harmed, a fiercely paternal instinct kicked in and sent him into a rage.

He ran in response to the cry. Adrenaline coursing through his veins. A shape lurched into view between him and the library, but Donric did not stop, nor did he hesitate. With the force of a rampaging bulk, he slammed into the bloated corpse before him - shield first - and knocked it aside. As the creature stumbled, Donric roared. His mace smashing into the stumbling creature's head, causing an explosion of gore. Yet he was not phased, he did not stop, he hadn't the time.

The burly man spun into the library, slamming the door behind him and took a single cursory glance at the downed figure of Colette. He ignored her and begun to shift several large bits of furniture across the door. While he was aware that he wouldn't be able to block the stairwell in the wall, he could at least barricade the entrance he'd come through. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. The first lesson a medic is taught is to secure yourself. You comrades can't be healed if there's no medic alive. Content with his efforts he turned his whole focus onto his fallen comrade before him.

"Don't worry Colette, I'm here, I've got you." He knelt down beside the girl and begun rifling through his medical satchel. Carefully he placed several vials, bottles and dubious tools beside the girl, before finally handing her a leather strop to bite into. A quick glance showed him all he needed to know, the wound was infected and something was clouding her eyes. The wound would come first, it was more pressing by far. While he'd never encountered a plague ghoul before, he knew about treating infections and could imagine that this one would turn pretty severe pretty quickly.

"Right, I'm going to count to three." He didn't. It was a lie. Donric gripped her shoulder in his meaty hands and squeezed the wound open with all his might. Pus oozed out of the already festering wound, alongside bits of blesh and dead tissue, eventually, however, the blood began to flow freely from the now opened wound.

"Again, I'm going to count to three... One..." Another lie. Additionally, he'd neglected to tell her this was the painful part. He carefully tipped a murky brown liquid neatly onto the affected area and waited. It steamed as the liquid, an acid, worked to both sterilize and cauterizer the wound shut. It wasn't a pretty method, but it was a quick fix for almost any injury. With that done, he set to cleaning and bandaging up the wound.

Finally, his work done, he looked her dead in the eyes. He'd seen this once before, may have even told Colette the story - but he doubted she'd have listened. A new recruit got bit by a rabid animal while scouting contracted 'Wraith Eyes', made his vision go all kinds of funny every now and then for about a week until he fought it off. He sighed, he supposed it could have been worse.

"You've got an infection, your vision will fade every now and then as the film in front of your eye hardens." The whole time he was talking he began swishing, mixing and pouring various chemicals into different flasks. Eventually, once he'd finished, he handed her a green liquid in a very small flask. "Tip one drop of this onto your eyes, it will sting like all hell and it'll take a few seconds... but it'll clear up the bouts as they come. Once we're out of this hell-hole, I can concoct a more gentle remedy, but right now my supplies are limited." Donric breathed a sigh of relieve and slowly set about packing his gear up.

At least for now, they were alive.

 

[Colette]

Treasure 2

---

Yelps, curses, and screams of pain continued to echo off the low hanging ceiling of the squared room. It had surely only taken him a moment to reach her but for Colette it felt like hours until Donric had arrived into the library and began boarding the door. The diligent field medic was not met with hospitality.

Her voice was shrill and panicky as Donric stacked furniture and shelving in front of the door, "it burns, there was a passage and it just came out of nowhere, I'm sorry! I didn't have time to react and," his words and scrounging through his medical bag was enough to shut the girl up as words were replaced by sobs. Throughout his operation she squirmed slightly, recoiling in pain a few times, and letting out high pitched squeal of pain as he poked, prodded, and squeezed.

Eventually the medic stared back at Colette with his sullen brown eyes. Sweat was piling up on her forehead, trickling down her cheeks, and eventually running off her face. Normally the Anirian woman would be embarrassed by such a display but right now she barely cared. Her vision had started to get a bit blurry, the light going out of it. She began to shout, "I-I can't see very well," but the veteran tending to her was quick to point out the condition she'd be facing for the rest of this little escapade, if not for the rest of her days.

She took the vial he gave her and tipped a small droplet into her left eye where the film was already growing hard. Instantly she slammed her lids shut and expletives that would make her mother blush escaped her tender lips. "Ack! Donnie, this feels like my eyes are ablaze!" She repeated the same process, after a few seconds of course, and the same sorts of expletives were bellowed out.

Eventually, with Donric's aid, she rose to her feet. Her shoulder was tender and it was doubtful she could properly aim her bow at this point. With resignation she hung the weapon across her good shoulder and drew her short sword. Though she wasn't particularly skilled with the standard issued Anirian blade it was better than being entirely unarmed.

"Shoulder still stings like a bitch, but, I think I'm good enough to press on," she said through gritted teeth, "can we find that sodding elven potion and go home? Please?" The idea of having to put that vile green fluid he concocting into her pupils again was terrifying.

"I'll take some of that snuff now if the offer still stands."

 

[Jair]

Treasure 3​

"What do you say are the chances of you knocking one of these massive doors off of its hinges? Wouldn't it simply be gorgeous if all these goblins surely inside were to gather up, only to be crushed by one of these gargantuan constructions?"

Jair scratched his chin, and examined the door, the hinges were rusty, but the doors seemed solid. If there was a way to lure the goblins behind the door he really be able to turn a pile of them into a puddle of goo. It was kind of unfortunate that what was about to happen would render so much collateral damage who knew what arcane, or eldritch lore could be found in such a city as this one.

He then looked from the door down the way to see how much of a run way he could have to build up enough speed to knock the door down. It looked like he'd have about two hundred yards, which might for someone human sized be too much of a run, but for Jair that would be about right. He nodded once, and said "Just let me know when."

He started to make his way back knocking away anything he might roll his ankle on, or trip over; crates, boulders, and such. He hunched down onto his heels, and waited. It would be a two hundred yard sprint, he could cover that distance in about five seconds, may just over four. The impact would hurt, but it wouldn't be the first time. It was par for the course for his line of work.

He received the signal, to repeat, he waited until he recieved the signal ,and burst into motion like a track runner. His muscles becoming banjo tight as he took each step, and accelerated to full speed. Thump....thump...thump..thump, thump, thump thump thumpthumpthump! The giant rumbled through the length of runway he made himself, and at the moment before he was to connect with the door, turned his shoulder, and braced.

Several things happened Jair hit the door, the hinges burst into pieces, and the door, and giant flew several feet through the air, and landed flat with the monk mage landing ontop. What ever was under the door was pancaked between stone floor, a solid oak door, and over two thousand pounds worth of giant.

((tag Mathis Majister Mejeure))

 

[Myrcella Bochanan]

Treasure 1.

Myrcella had to laugh at Richard Henry the Eighth 's imaginings of her little adventures crawling around, yet still defeating the monsters. It was silly to imagine that such a thing would be possible, but she had to admit that a song or story of such a thing would be highly entertaining. "And perhaps my gown would be magical and would never tear."

She held his hand for a moment after he kissed her head. Myrcella had caught that look in his eyes once he saw her ankle. He was worried, though did his best to mask it. And that made her concerned about it too. Would she lose her foot? Or at worse; die?

The subject was changed however, and that made Myrcella switch her focus to their task at hand. "Of course there'd be monsters.... A crystal blade? No doubt the sparkle would be easy to spot." She wrapped her arms around Richard as he picked her up to carry her. "Well...the sooner we start, the sooner we can hopefully be sent home. Just try not to get too distracted. We're not on a vacation yet."

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

TREASURE 3: LOWER DISTRICT​

Just let me know when.

Majister snapped his fingers and swept his arm in front of himself, saying, "Gorgeous, my good giant! Let's put on another magnificent show, shall we?"

"So..." Darla said, glancing between Krull and Majister. "Who's going in there to get them rounded up?"

"An excellent question, my dear," Majister said, "and I, for one, cannot wait to hear your vehement protests about doing just that!"

"Honestly, it should be Krull."

Krull just shrugged and said, "How about we draw straws?"

Darla flared up with alarm and spot of frustration. "Fuck you, draw straws! You're the biggest one here and you've got a shield, you're perfect for this."

"You've got a helm still."

Majister let out a mockingly contemplative hmmm. "You do still have a helm, Darla."

Darla gasped as if gravely offended, then gestured angrily toward Majister. "So do you! You do it!"

"Ah, but Jair was talking specifically to me when mentioned the knowing of the when, wasn't he? Why, I'm simply the best at giving the signal for occasions such as these!"

Krull--who, Majister suspected, enjoyed flustering Darla as much as he did despite his serene, generally easy-going nature--nodded and said, "He does give the best signals."

"That's..." Darla made that adorable, lips-scrunched-to-one-side pouting face of hers, and mumbled, "completely subjective."

"Darla..." Majister cooed.

"Don't you Darla me."

"Oh Darla..." he cooed again.

She sighed. "Fine. I'll go. But I get first pick of any treasure besides the Bammaram."

And, that decided, Darla entered. Bait for the sure-to-be brimming hive of goblins--especially so if that escapee got here or if Jair's quake had alarmed them. Both of which, likely, being the case. Krull stayed by the open doors and peered in, ready to assist if something went terribly wrong. And Majister stood clear of the doors and shifted his glance from Jair to the doors' opening and waited patiently.

Oh, but he didn't need to wait very long.

From within the Church's Nave, the sound of scores of little scampering feet and screeching battle cries. This along with Darla shouting, "Now! Now! Do it now!"

And Majister, happy to oblige as Darla came barreling back out of the doors, used his Illusion magic to conjure bright, giant, magical letters in a gaudy display before the doors, reading simply:

W H E N​

Majister, Darla, and Krull all righteously got the hell out of the way as Jair came stomping their way and made damn good on his implicit guarantee to topple the door. The door came crashing down with a mighty WHOOM and a thunderous WHAP as it smacked flat on the floor of the Nave. And a disgustingly massive spray of red blood and green goblin flesh went shooting out from either side of the door to the tune of dozens of simultaneous sick popping noises as the majority of the goblin colony was simply crushed in one singular move.

Suicidal little creatures, the goblins that still lived seemed none too perturbed about the sudden deaths of all their comrades--nor the giant that currently was in their midst.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Majister said, drawing his rapier with a smile. "To arms, once more!"

He, Darla, and Krull jumped onto the top of the fallen gargantuan Church door and each joined the melee against the remaining horde of goblins.

Jair

 

[Richard Henry the Eighth]

Treasure 1

"Maybe apply whatever the substance that keeps your hair to your dress," Richard said as he began to carry Myrcella Bochanan to the Elven ruins. "Perhaps it'll never tear." He really needs to know how she kept her to be so neat and tidy in these conditions. Richard meant to ask Myrcella but never got around it. "I'm pretty focused," Richard smiled at Myrcella. "The question is my love are you?"

 

[Farzad Oldsummer]

His eyes lacked recognition, they stayed still like golems told to stay put, his breathing was shallow, and the blood seemed to move without care. He should've been shaking. He should have been in pain. But he seemed to lack anything. Caliane grew large in form, his guardian angel that was working overtime, his form was picked up and heaved over her shoulder, his mouth was locked close, his eyes unable to fixate, merley watching as the scenery passed by. Mainly the colour green, passing by that was.

He watched as they traveled through and to the pinnacle. It was shorter than he thought, but Farzad wasn't about to complain. They had reached the top, his body laid out like some spiders prey, tangled in invisible web's that held his limbs from moving, and venom poured and suckled through his body.

His arm moved without resistance, only the natural bone and muscle reacting to the twisting pain, his mind felt a little clearer at that, like a wind slowly breathing away smoke. He started to think, More... Require... He tried to twist his lips, to formulate words or sentence, but his mouth only slipped a little open like a lock made an inch loose. Than came fire, inferno and a rupture of pain.

His entire body ruptured with movement, the fire bringing a gasp of air, his body spasming as his arm flexed instinctively from the pain, his breath one moment a wildstorm fo pain and another deep and controlled, the fire slowly starting to simmer, his blood boiled as he looked to the sun above. It wasn't exactly comforting, he whisked his other arm over his face. "So... Sorry about the hassle... Sil Delidore Quasane... It's a hypnosis spell." He clarified, his arm over his eyes as he simply relaxed on the cold top of the tower, a smile slipping across his face.

Caliane Ruinë ​

 

[Donric Mannir]

Treasure 2

"You don't need to be sorry, everybody stumbles, but the Guard will always have you back on your feet." He nodded, with the rush of adrenaline finally running its course and his paternal instinct fading, Donric didn't particularly feel the need - nor the desire - to engage in any softness. Instead, the anger that had been welling up inside him grew. Not for Colette, although had she not gone running off things might have been different, no. His anger was for the giant bloated corpses that had made themselves home in this keep.

"Look, I'd feel better if you took my shield. It's not heavy and you can just strap it onto your arm." He handed her his shield. He felt somewhat naked without its familiar weight, but he knew it was for the best. Worst case, he still had heavy armour protecting him, alongside his mace and blade. He wasn't exceptional with either, but he wasn't the worst in the Guard - far from it. Regardless, at this moment of time, he didn't feel much like defending. He wanted to take the fight to the beasties, he was going to get this potion and slaughter whatever got between him and his friends.

"Right, I can hear some grumbling through that door. I suggest we go down this stairwell, try to loop around and find the blanket room with the potion." As he spoke he was already deep within his satchel and slipped her a small brown bundle of snuff. It would take the edge off at least and help calm her nerves. She'd need a steady head, and hand, for their next battle.

Donric glanced around the room, in the corner - caked within a century worth of dust - he spotted a small candle holder with a couple of remaining candles in it. The stairwell was dark, any light would help. It would be a shame for them both to come this far and get a sprain. From his pocket, he withdrew a standard-issue tinderbox - flint was too precious for the Anirian paper-pushers to spare for lowly soldiers - and began to light one of the candles. Despite his heavy gauntlets, eventually, it stuck and he held the device aloft.

As he made his way towards the stairwell, Donric was oblivious to a curious occurrence that happened. Instead, with his attention scrutinising Colette - out of concern more than anything - he failed to notice the flame change. Once he stepped past the downed plague ghoul, the flame grew suddenly and flickered blue for a moment or two, before returning to normal as he stepped into the hidden entrance.

 

[Caliane Ruinë]

Treasure One
____________________

Caliane rocked back onto her heels as she watched the wizard slowly come around. It probably hadn't been a pleasant experience for him having her inferno shoot through his system but at least it seemed to have done the job of chasing the poison from his blood. At least they knew what would happen now if one of those things did actually hit their mark. Silently she thanked the heavens that one of them hadn't managed to catch her wings when she had been in flight; she would have been facing a lot worse than a broken wing if that were the case. With a soft sigh to his comment on the spell she offered him her waterskin.

"The fire will have dehydrated you, drink," Cali took his hands and closed them round the skin. Humans were not built to contain her magics but she had risked it in helping him. Standing up she put her hands on the small of her back and massaged it with her knuckles absentmindedly, her slip and slide across the room and up the stairs had resulted in more than a few bruises. "At least it seems to have worked, we need to get going before they snap out of it."

The winged elf turned then to look at where they were. It was the start of a short corridor, at the end of which was a door that stood slightly ajar, but enough that the pair could see into it enough to see their prize. It seemed it was a dark room they were about to enter and in the centre hovered the blade over an intricately painted circle. A blue light emanated from it that threw the rest of the room into equal mixes of shadow and sharp relief. There were scrolls and other trinkets inside, and what looked to be a desk. Perhaps it had been the Commanders private study - it would make sense this far up.

What was unnerving her the most was the complete absence of noise. Even in the corridors below they had heard the clicking of those bugs, but up here there was nothing. She didn't realise she would ever miss the noise until this moment. A sense of foreboding crept over her and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end, set her teeth on edge.

"Well, the final leg my friend," Cali offered him her hand to help him to her feet. "Perhaps once we see what there is on offer we can decide how best to split it all."

* * *

Farzad Oldsummer​

 

[Colette]

Treasure 2

WIth a bit of encouragement from the veteran soldier, and his shield strapped to her injured arm, Colette felt a bit better about her predicament. She took a whiff of the snuff he had handed over and felt her nerves ease a bit too. All things considered her headspace was far more calmed than it had been mere moments before.

”Be careful, not sure if I could fix you up if you were to get bitten by one of those beasts,” the sunny haired girl replied. She could tell that her comrade was enraged, his flaring nostrils translated that quite clearly. The injured young woman couldn’t blame him though. She was annoyed as well and had the tables been reversed it was likely she’d be looking for some old school vengeance as well.

Still, anger could distract and distractions could get them hurt. Or worse. ”I mean it, we should stay together and proceed slowly or,” it was no use as Donric propelled down the stairs of the hidden passage she had found. The only light in the dim area being provided by a candle he held in his free hand.

For a brief instance the intensity of the flame sprung up as its color shifted into a bright vivid color matching Colette’s cerulean eyes. She gasped and exclaimed, “Donric, there’s some kind of magic afoot down here. Your candle glowed blue and it was huge.” No sooner had the strange event taken place had the flicker of the fire reduced back to normal size and coloration. A hint of red flashed across the guardswoman’s cheeks as she wondered if Donnie would think she was hallucinating as a side effect of her injuries.

”Well, it’s normal now, but I swear it happened!” she insisted just before…

Behind them the bookshelf slammed shut, the staircase collapsed behind them, Donric and Colette found themselves standing back-to-back in the middle of a grimey cobblestoned floor. The walls around them were an assortment of jagged stones drenched in some sort of orange filament. Around them the air itself smelled of death and despair. Almost as suddenly as the door and stairs behind them had been shut out the pair heard the sound of a trap door opening up ahead followed by a squishy slam against the stone floor.

Nervously, quietly, Colette whispered over her bloodied shoulder, ”Donric? What was that?” She turned to face forward with the stocky medic towards the direction of the commotion. Whatever had happened must’ve been triggered by some kind of incantation from the light of their candle.

 

[Donric Mannir]

Treasure Two -

​

He could see the tension in her face drop and breathed a sigh of relief. The snuff was a miracle, it seemed to take the edge off of any situation - although he was cautious about using it too much. He'd seen far too many men and women go through entire tins of the stuff and still yearn for more. That said, he too grabbed a small bundle of powder and inhaled it slowly. A wave of calmness washed over him and he subsequently felt invigorated.

"I'm not sure I'd trust you either, my body is a temple anyway - so I know I'll be fine!" He smiled half-heartedly. He didn't hold much stock in his own words, but he tried to muster some air of faux confidence. It wouldn't do good to dishearten his comrades after the hiccup they'd just had. He sighed, he just needed to avoid getting hurt. Or, at least, he needed to make sure he stayed conscious - in that case, at least he could simply instruct Colette on how best to help.

He turned to face her with a thoughtful expression on his face. Usually, he'd dismiss her as being in shock - even now he was tempted - but then he remembered. The burnt-out torch stands that lined the walls and the burn marks not too dissimilar from an explosion. He'd dealt with corpses, he'd known the smell, he should have realised sooner. Their ever decaying body was a bomb waiting to happen. Slowly, the cogs in his mind were turning, perhaps this could be the route to their victory. "Oh Colette, you geni-" He didn't get to finish his sentence.

The universe, ever willing to go the extra mile to steal Donric's thunder, had other ideas. Donric's sudden lightbulb moment was banished to the far recesses of his mind.

Squelch. Tap, tap, tap. Wheeze.

A monstrosity, beyond anything the group had yet encountered hobbled into the centre of the room. As if on cue, conveniently placed torches - lining the walls of the dank stone room - erupted and cast the are in a sickly green light. Far from the great and beautiful architecture that made up the entirety of the castle, this room was something different.

A hastily made, no-frills dungeon. This was an arena, carved into the space behind the library and hidden behind a tempting bookcase. This was a trap, and they had fallen for it.

Mirrored glass suddenly blinked into existence around them. Ethereal faces shimmered and materialised. The spectators had arrived. Some looked intrigued, some looked disappointed, others... hungry for bloodshed.

Carefully, Donric set down his medical satchel and crossbow near the wall. He was beyond the point of fear. The all-consuming rage he felt on behalf of Colette continued to burn within him. The fire, already burning within his every fibre, was further stoked at the sight of the spectators. The monsters that paid for this free-for-all, the ones who abused their power and made such events possible. He ground his teeth and withdrew his sword. With a weapon in both hands, he was as ready as he'd ever be.