So glad to have you, Reralae!

Sorry for the delay, folks.  I was referencing some items back in Edgo of Duty, butwe had some gremils there making the pages unreadable with strange accent characters.  I spent some time danitizing and fixing.  Post is coming...

...that is the point.  There is still life (for some).  It's not over yet.

Give it time.  It's legit vanilla extract, and it's delicious. 

Midge, in D&D terms, is "dead and gone".  Aka completely, utterly dead.

Cedric is moderately wounded.  Everyone else is seriously wounded. 

Well, Kith bounces between mortal wounds and completely healthy. 

lol @ phallic stone thing.  Oh, my.

Yes, Eol - you all come out of paralysis shortly after you go to your cells.

Okay.  Each of you is in your own private suite. 

Hahahahha....

The rooms are small - something like 8 feet by 8 feet.  The walls and floor are stone.  There is a little filthy straw on the ground, but nothing else.  No bed, no cot, no chamberpot.  Nothing.

Each cell has a very sturdy iron gate on it.  Two of you are housed on each side of the narrow hallway.  You can see into one another's cells - when the light flickers enough to allow it. 

Your equipment is gone.  No weapons, no shields, no backup weapons, no holy symbols, no backpacks, no pouches.  You still have any armor/clothing you were wearing, but that's it.

The dark robed priest smiles widely at Aranwen's action.  "Your wisdom outweighs your pride, Bladesinger," he observes.  He looks to the ghouls.  "Disarm them." 

Immediately, the giggling monsters comply, removing weapons, holy symbols, and such from each standing party member.  At the priest's signal, they bagin to march Arawen deeper into the cellblock, while dragging the rest of the party along.

The priest himself falls behind and moves to Midge's side, then arches an eyebrow in surprise.  The mage's eyes are open, the stare blank and vacant... but his chest still moves shallowly.  "The little one still lives," he observes flatly, "though only for moments more, I suspect."  He shakes his head.  "I'll not waste the effort... and a little evidence won't be a bad thing." 

He gestures to the motionless cidal.  "You may eat this one."  The giggling of the ghouls increases to a fever pitch, and several of the creatures leap atop of Midge, ripping at his flesh and jockeying for the choicest bits. 

With the mage's doom fully sealed, the rest of the party is forced deeper into the dark dungeon.  The greenish light grows very dim here, often only flickering sparodically.  Aranwen's torch is extinguished, leaving no other source of light. 

The group is taken through another iron gate to a far more narrow hallway.  Upon reaching another set of what appear to be cells, each individual is locked inside their own dark room.  The stench of death and decay is truly appressive here. 

The priest takes his leave.  "You will remain here at my leisure," he explains.  "You have no weapons, no way to call upon your gods.  You live - for now - because I allow it."

He pauses, smiling slightly.  "If you are wise, you will be good houseguests, and I may reward you.  If you make a nuisance of yourselves, you will have no value to me, and I will deal with you accordingly.  I hope that you understand, and are wise enough to comply.  If you attempt escape, the ghouls will rend you to pieces, and I will not intercede again."

He bobs his head.  "Goodbye, for now."

With that, he is gone, and heavy darkness descends.  Nothing but the smell of death and the sound of insane giggling remains.

Somebody hand me the spray bottle.  Ch'dau, get that out of your mouth!  You don't know WHERE it's been!

This weekend, I made up a batch of vanilla extract.  If you cook or bake much (especially for the holidays), you might want to give this a shot... the results just CRUSH store bought flavorings. 

Full post here!

Can we take the oops instead of our picks?  If so, sigh me up for that.  The entire NFL went upside down!

Saints
Ravens
Bills
Packers
Lions
Chiefs
Giants
Colts
Rams
Cowboys
49ers

The responses have been incredible.  Brom, the funeral dirge in Gib's head, knowing he wasn't going to survive... wow.  Top shelf stuff, there. 

I've said this before, I'll say it again... I'm sorry, folks, for what is to come.  I don't like upsetting people, I really don't.   I'm afraid that there is some serious upset to come.

This RP, though... people, with a little editing, maybe adding some depth to Midge and some stuff to Cedric and Aranwen before they got picked up by the current players... I think this game could read like a quality fantasy novel.  The play has just been incredible, I am so very gratified to have been part of this with you all.

This is just such next level writing.  I am awed. 

One could point out that doing what it takes to save their lives just shows how utterly qualified Ara is to lead.  

That callback to KCANDK, though.  Don't die for me.

I literally teared up.

I feel stabbed in the gut.  A Bladesinger would rather die than dishonor their blade.  If they drop it, they will literally leave it in the dirt in the middle of a fight, as they are no longer worthy to carry it.  If they can't take one from a foe... they don't deserve to live. 

For Ara to drop it like that, given her training, experience, and belief system... that had to be one of the hardest things anyone has ever done. 

Yeah, theray sounds good. 

I'm telling you, I feel like a MONSTER for inflicting this on these characters.

Oh, Rae.  Oh.

That was powerful. 

I expected Ara to struggle with this choice.  I was terrified that you would elect to fight and die here... and I couldn't blame you for that one bit.

Dropping the blade, though.  Wow.  I had assumed Ara would sheathe it if she chose to surrender.  Offer it up. 

Wow.  That was incredible..

Go away right now, kid.  The grownups are talking.

If Aranwen wants to die here in honor and glory, I'm not going to stop her.  Or blame her.  Better here than as a sacrifice, I see that line of thinking. 

Maybe she's just healous that everybody else gets to be a ghoul but her.

It's a quandry, I get that.  how can you trust an evil priest that you won't be harmed?  Then again, what does he have to gain by lying to you?  He has the clear advantage here. 

Then again, his boss is a sicko torture expert, so he could just be screwing with you.  And who willingly surrenders here?  Tough call, I feel you.

Aside: Midge is dead.  He was badly hurt and burned up life force casting beyond his capacity in an effort to save y'all.  He's at negative HP, and HP lost by doing what he did cannot be magically regained.  He'd need an immediate heal spell to stabalize him, and that's not going to happen in time. 

He did understand what he was doing, whcih is why I gave him a final line.  I know, nobody really mourns what has essentially been an NPC, but there it is. 

Love the theme. 

Cheese.  You guys are making me feel like a real heel, here. 

It doesn't have to be.  You have been presented with an option.

...I'm sorry.  I am.

This party has faced many horrible experiences of late.  So very much death... and worse, death that refuses to stay that way, that rises back to claw and bite and rip at the lviing.  Cruelness and evil and treachery, abominations that should have never seen the light of day, unspeakable acts that should not exist within the realm of reality.

And yet... the pack of malevolent, insane walking dead advancing upon the party in this reeking, oppressive den of corruption is every bit a waking nightmare of its own.

Gib and Cedric raise their holy symbols aloft, imploring the gods of goodness to turn back these hateful creations of the grave.  Midge begins chanting words of arcane power.  The gods of good are faithful and respond to the entreaties...   though in this space sanctified to evil, they perhaps lack some of the influence they may have otherwise had.  Even so, the first line of the undead are turned back, bade to flee the fight by the powers of Solanis and Therassor.

Midge completes his casting, and from the cracks in the stones, a massive swarm of centipedes, scorpions, and other stinging creatures arises, which immediate set to biting and stinging, ripping the flesh away fromthe advancing ghouls.

And yet, still they come. 

Just as the first of the giggling monsters reaches the companions, a voice from behind the undead chants away, plunging the cellblock into total darkness once again. 

The companions fight against both the creatures of the grave and the panic of the darkness.  Aranwen stikes true, very nearly dismembers a ghoul even in the dark.  Gib catches one on his shield, stabs, pushes it back.  Ch'dau is cut by the claws fom the grave, feels that awful paralysis seep into his bones... yet somehow, be it by the frothing rage he is gripped by, or perhaps by the grace of his feline god, he is able to resist the grasp, and instead rips the creature nigh asunder in response.

In the dark, a ghoul slips past the warriors and launches itself into Midge.  The cidal goes down with a scream, the undead beast on top of him, clawing and biting. 

Cedric calls to Solanis, and the god of light answers, dispelling the supernatural darkness.  Aranwen uses the opening to cleave the ghoul on top of Midge nearly in two.  The little caster is still alive, though he is quite obviously in the grasp of the paralysis.  For her trouble, the Bladesinger is ripped from behind, though she is able to shake off their power. 

The fight becomes one of attrition.  For every mighty blow the party lands, it seems that a ghoul lands a scratch or bite in return.  The blessing of Solanis appears to have been useful, as for a time, Midge is the only one who succumbs to the paralysis.  Still, each time a giggling abomination falls motionless, it is replaced with another. 

The initial charge is halted by Midge's paralysis and the rush of the attacking ghouls.  Soon, it becomes a situation of desperation similar to the feeling in the woods when the horde was faced; there seems no end to the undead foes.

Still, the party fights on gallantly.  Gib slashes a ghoul open, bashes its skull in with his shield.  Ch'dau roars in violent fury, rips the arm off of an undead abomination (which actually seems to give it pause; this one turns and flees), but is cut again.  Aranwen shrugs off lesser wounds, lays about in the full glory of the sword trance, twisting, flashing, spinning, slaying.

On the ground, Midge feels motion return to him.  However, the cid mage also feels despair clutch at his heart.  His wounds are deep and very serious.  The party is sorely beset by ghouls, and the gate behind the party is locked.  There can be no retreat.  

To add to it all, he is out of spells.  The cid grabs his sling, though the area is not condusive to firing missinles without risking a strike to an ally's back.

A ghoul pushes by Gib, leaps onto Cedric.  The young man struggles valiantly, but is no warrior.  The warriors are all involved in their own fights.  Midge bows his head, closes his eyes, and begins to chant. 

Pulling himself painfully to his feet, the little wizard feels a little bit of his energy slip away as the flames spring from his fingertips.  He reaches into the ghoul's back, sets it ablaze, causes it to release the young priest, who is able to then smash its head with his staff. 

The fight wages on.  The first wall of insects was dispersed when Midge fell; the diminutive caster creates it anew, carefully placing it so as to chip away at the strength of the ghouls without harming the companions. 

Ch'dau is finally injured enough that the paralysis takes him, forcing Aranwen and Gib to try to help protect him, meaning that Cedric has no choice but to defend himself.  Aranwen is staggered.  Gib lays another ghoul open, but his own wounds are draining him. 

A ghoul leaps on the helpless Kazari's back and begind to bite at him.  Gib, Aranwen, and Cedric are too entangled to intervene immediately.  Midge, barely strong enough to stand, considers his options.  "Ch'dau!" he cries with a strained smirk,  "put in a good word for me with your cat god, yes?"  He then chants a different incantation.  When complete, he flings a bolt of green energy at the ghoul on Ch'dau, striking it fully in the back.  The impact eats a large hole into the creature's body, and its flesh sizzles in several more places from the splash of acid droplets, causing it to slip to the ground off of the Kazari.

At the same time, an ashen-faced Midge also wordlessly collpases to the ground.

Despite the spellcaster's touching sacrifice, the situation is still desperate.  Soon, Gib and Cedric and likewise paralyzed.  Everyone is heavily wounded.  Aranwen fights on alone, though there can only be moments until the end. 

Suddenly, a man's voice calls out.  "Stop."

Instantly, the remaining ghouls cease thier attacks and step back.  A black robed man steps forward into the light - though leaving several ghouls between himself and the party.  He is tall, solidly built.  He is clean shaven and has close cut dark hair.  This is not the same priest who lured you into the trap. 

"You have fought well," he speaks in a calm, smooth tone.  "You have all acquited yourselves admirably.  Even so, you cannot win this fight."

He smiles softly.  "You need not all die here, however.  Surrender now, and I vow before the gods that no harm will come to you." 

The priest glances around the party, where all are motionless save Aranwen.  "It would seem that this choice is yours alone, Bladesinger.  Live or die - make your choice now."

Sweet summer child, Raven...

Yay!  The killing can commence! 

He tells me he is working on a post now.  *fingers crossed*