Pre game stuff

Pre game stuff

For discussing background information, also a pregame roleplay thread, for those who wish to roleplay before the game officially begins (which should be around the first of December 2012). Those who have posted an application in the application thread may post here:

Currently in the dream it is almost winter solstice, though the characters' minds flit back to six months earlier in the dream setting, to the summer solstice...

Thanks to having recurring dreams about this setting, over the length of some nights, it is easy to recognize that it is a dream, though this lucidity tends to fade in and out occasionally, depending on the situation.

The Malan'whibi tribespeople gathered around near a river flowing through a forest, where they are settled temporarily. The celestial platypus led them here, and the savage bard Halurn sets about making mapping out key location points for a ritual to empower the totem spirits with the ability to attune more closely with the power of the sun, to better help them fend off the darkness. Halurn glances at some of the people the guides had brought back recently: a brown eyed, stealthy elf with blonde hair; a black haired young man, with dragon blood running through his veins; another man, who had diligently studied the arcane arts; and a green eyed, blond, human who can manifest blades with his mind. There were still others arriving, but for now he had to concentrate on his part in coordinating the ritual...

Hasana sat in the second row, back from the ritual and away from her father. She was expected now to sit at his right hand, but it felt wrong to take Anuja's place. She muttered something about how Jalanpur steel was too bulky for the first row, and how it stung with heat if she sat too close to the fire. Whether they believed her or not, the tribe seemed content to let her be.

The warriors were all dressed ceremoniously for combat; her metal armor looked rather beautiful painted, but it held the colors poorly and they were already dripping away. She embedded the butt of her war spear in the ground before her, and sat resting her forehead against its haft. She tried her very best to look solemn; not childishly impatient. It still felt like she should be running into the forest right this second, trying to find her lost brother. But there were no tracks she could follow, no bearings. No guidance. Where did Andrew go? He had to be out there, somewhere. Everything goes somewhere.

She resolved herself to listen deeply, with all her heart, and hope the spirits would speak. And hope that she was not too dim to hear them.

Bruce blinked a few times, a rectangular light which changed from one color to the next flashed at him each time his eyes opened (or did the close?...), until he remembered where he was and what he was doing. He felt under his vest his prized possession, a tome of arcane rituals of his own. He had come to this tribe to learn what, if any, secrets they may have uncovered that few at his prestigious arcane academy had considered. These totems seemed to be ancient arcane runes of some large and ancient outsiders, and little other information had been studied, other than as historical here-say.

He would only admit to himself that he was skeptical. Some at the academy assume much of the Totem's current powers are that of sly illusionists, but Bruce needed to see it for himself. That was why he was here. He took a quill out and kept his eyes sharp, muttering a simple Arcane Mark incantation as he began taking notes of his surroundings, sketching the architecture and ceremonies as he saw them.

PandaMaster: Make one spellcraft check for the entire ritual.

It was unlikely that any present saw Mero as she sat perched high in the tree. The panther was silent and only the very tip of her tail twitched as she watched those gathered in the clearing below.

He always loved these gatherings. Everyone together and solemn. It was a lot of fun to feel the excitement simmering under the surface of his tribe. He smiled broadly and pushed away some unwelcome knowledge. He had forgotten what that knowledge was, but he could tell that it would not be welcome in this time of celebration.

Having marked out positions, Halurn arranges people into place, with a celestial platypus watching him. Garak, the chieftain, stands tall, looking at his daughter, Felena. Garak's weathered skin bears scars of battle, and his nose is sharply angular, somewhat hawklike. Felena stands with a few more of the warriors of the tribe, her eyes quickly surveying the area, looking alert. Sandraniel, the half-elven shamaness, is in ceremonial dress, with a headband full of feathers. She stands with an intense look on her face, almost as if listening to something. She begins by invoking the blessings of the sun god, as well as paying homage to the deity of nature. After a ritual blessing, Halurn the dark skinned, savage bard begins drumming rhythmically on a drum secured to his waist. He is barefoot and shirtless, starts moving around slowly, then faster, chanting, as other tribespeople follow the beat, moving around in a circle. Halurn starts increasing the tempo, until he is moving around in a frenzy of energetic performance. The other dancers begin leaping around, then dodging and weaving in and out of spaces near to each other.

Bruce can't discern the exact nature of the ritual (is he casting detect magic?). If it is magic, it is of a type he's not used to, though he thinks he can rule out any first or second level illusion spells, even when the celestial animals eyes' start glowing.

Mero can feel the energy building as the ritual progresses, and her eyes start to glow, not that people are going to notice while she's in the tree.

Bruce looked down at his notes, scribbling the magical goings-on that he presumed might be at work. He thought better of casting Detect Magic, less the locals suspect him of trying to steal their secrets. He wasn't doing that, he had just right as them to the inner-workings of this ceremony. But should they disagree, why not just keep it a secret from them? At least that's how Bruce thought...

...Bruce looked down at his beer belly. Well, Bruce supposes it's more of a bourbon and pretzel bar belly, but the two look almost identical. "I really ought to get that P90 system. Get my self back in shape."

He looked past his belly at his laptop. He had fallen asleep waiting for his mustache photos to post to his new online profile. His phone was still laying on his shoulder, from when he called his cousin to help him figure out the privacy settings. He closed the old flip phone and that's when, in bright LED green, it announced it was 3:13am. "Yikes. I have to get up in the morning."

Bruce sauntered off to bed, figuring the next three hours of sleep should at least be done in a proper bed, not his recliner. He placed the glass down on the kitchen counter behind in one well practiced motion, but the tv remote wasn't turning the tv off. This prompted Bruce to look down at the remote, and remember that it's his phone, and the remote is now missing. He takes a step to the tv to turn it off manually.


Bruce's shin smacks the coffee table, where he sees the tv remote. He grabs said remote in groggy anger as he snaps his thumb against the power button, turning the whole apartment black. Squinting uselessly in the darkness, Bruce's eyes adjust enough to see the dim light of his laptop charger light the room's floor in a green cone to his bedroom. He plugs an alarm time into his phone for 6am, and a second one at 630 in case he hits off instead of snooze the first time. Flinging off his pants and losing a sock in the process as he places his phone on his bedside charge dock is the last thing he can manage doing before collapsing onto blanketed pillow...

Bruce blinks and realizes he stopped paying attention to what he was writing, he looked down to see poorly written chicken scratch where perfectly calligraphic Draconic, with the occasional elvish footnote or note in the margins. No matter, he would decipher it later. Must of gone into a trance of some kind.

He stats taking proper notes on the next page of the spell's
Anything from the Spellcraft roll?
he witnessed.

The great cat let out a small purr as she felt warmth envelope her from the magic of the gathering. She rather seemed to enjoy the music and revelry. Such was a treat, she concluded.


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