in character Intro. Parting of the Veil

[roryb]

Intro. Parting of the Veil

When the Disciples of the True Utterance were laid to rest in alabaster crypts, the anointed grounds of Thuvi were said to be the most blessed in all of Azzethulah — that was until the great betrayal came to be and the soiling of Gaos after the diocide. The blasphemers and their quislings, as one of their first acts as the new overlords, set out to desecrate the monuments of the holy one. The Cemetery of Thuvi was one such symbol of sanctity.

Splintered from living stone and cursed, these crypts darkened, rotted, and were besmirched into a sinister nightmare. Once set on a course of floating rock into the chaos, the first wave of hagioguards and their true followers anchored Thuvi by massive chains in an attempt to restore the once sacred place. Their work was never realized before they were driven into oblivion by the newly raised hordes of what was to become the Seven Houses. Nonetheless, the ancient necropolis was forgotten and left to be haunted by the whispers of the damned.

Many centuries later, Barthalk, in his enigmatic and irresistible calling, found his way to old Thuvi. Without understanding the true nature its lure, he was led into a decrepit black mausoleum of a forgotten theologue. Perhaps he thought he sought the secret to everlasting life. What Barthalk uncovered there was an echo of the first word. Buried under a flag was the last pure thought of the holy one, who hid from his slayers a plan for the salvation of creation in a vial of frosted crystal. Barthalk beheld the beautiful spark of creation and had the irresistible urge to release the stopper.

Doing so had a profound consequence.

Like shockwaves from a redoubtable explosion of cleansing fire, a knowingness rippled through the universe. For the first time in ages, the ephemeral veil was parted for four to regard. Those with the shard of divinity within them beheld the clarion blast immediately. So, too, did the minions of the usurpers, who concluded that such a failsafe against their tyranny lay hid somewhere. They had devised measures for them to hone in on the last light of the holy one in order to extinguish it forever.

But the god-shards were awakened. Four of the six beheld the light beyond the veil and each recognized their shared counterpoint with the one who had released the last pure thought and with the other two who also answered the summons. They all beheld in their mind the place where Barthalk was beleaguered by black hounds that closed in on his precarious and meager sanctuary upon the rock of Thuvi. They had to race to meet him for the first time, to save him from being destroyed and to save the light which he bore from being snuffed out.

Black things resembling fearsome sightless canids came seeking the light which they hated. Bred with other foul things to be unswervingly loyal and steadfastly single-minded in their sole bloody pursuit to destroy the reflections of divinity and its newly awaken standard bearers. Cruel taskmasters drove their beasts relentlessly forward. This throng along with three awakened brethren raced to the forgotten edges of Gaos beyond the slums. Barthalk knew he was trapped, that to show himself was to accept death.

OOC

This was not the opening I had in mind. Alas! Mythic threw a curve ball at me from the very start. I’m starting a bit vague, but you can assume an Average (12) difficulty for facing a hound and its handler. And a Tough (15) difficulty for facing a group of 5 or so.

Barthalk will face a group outside his refuge who have not yet found his scent. Each of the others must face a group before finding Thuvi, and then we’ll see what.

 

Edited November 28, 2023 by roryb (see edit history)

[Colette]

Thuvi is a cold, misty place. Practically arctic, really. Fortunately, this makes a flouncy, voluminous ball gown of countless layers of eldersilk, draped over a wyrmbone crinoline, reasonably ideal apparel. An elkhide parasol with which to keep the snow away and heavy perfume of myriad floral fragrances, and Arendela Iyaskalla is all set for travel there.

The dog just so happens to encounter a pack of ebon hounds and their dubious owners en route. There is no good reason for them to be so aggressive towards Arendela, and yet, they are. And so the Keeper of Light, Life, Hope, and Love reaches out to her fellow canids, mind to mind, pooch to pooch. A rapport is formed, and lo and behold, it just so happens that they do not really appreciate the heartless rearing methods that their masters have employed all these years. The hounds turn on their vile owners, maws frothing and tearing, blood spurting and flesh avulsing.

Arendela smiles, twirl-twirl-twirls her parasol about, and continues onwards with a spring in her stiletto-heeled step and a whistle on her red-painted lips. A curiosity most quaint lies further within the cemetery, and she gets to sniff-sniff-sniffing it out, furry ears and brown tail upright.

Edited November 17, 2023 by Colette (see edit history)

[matt_s]

Barthalk, called by some High Mage, others Binder of the Dead, and a legion of names and curses besides, has found something. All those years of study, craned over musty tomes or bent over in tunnels hewn in the bones of the world in time beyond mortal accounting, had led to this. And in a moment of thoughtless jubilation, the stopper had been released with a shining revelation of divinity.

Shapes, shapes in the darkness howling in pursuit, patient and reckless. They lurked endlessly, no doubt in Barthalk's mind sent forth by what he had done. He had faced adversity before in a thousand forms. This was more perilous, perhaps, but a challenge of a similar shade. Had he, greedy necromancer who feared death as much as he sought to master it, blundered into bearing the mantle of Hero of the Age? Unlikely, yet certain, and ridiculous, but that what how things looked to be. and Barthalk imagined the Gods if they were even watching laughing mirthlessly ensepulchered on a distant throne.

If I pick off one at a time, I will even the odds somewhat. he muttered to himself. Darting from cover to cover, more bandit than sorcerer perhaps, he saw an opening, and began chanting under his frosty breath an incantation write by unknown hand in a script long since lost to those who regarded the world with wholly sane eyes...

The darkness of the hound intensified and then was smeared out in a horrific stain that revolted Barthalk even as he finished the curse he laid upon it. The eyes that had never opened would be shut forever.

 

[roryb]

Barthalk's profane act sent ripples of horror and madness among the ranks of the other black hounds. Terrible howling in mourning and slavering for vengeance filled the hollow places of the cemetery. Although shaping from the nebulous powers of the ether to put an end of one accursed life, the binder of the dead merely bought himself time. Frenzied, it only was a matter of moments before one or more of the dribbling pit fiends would muster the rage to assault his position...unless he could move, find a more defensible place, or misdirect them. Either way, his time would eventually run out.

OOC

Okay, because Barthalk did not eliminate his threat entirely, he will still have to face at least a TR 12 "doing things" roll to defend himself. The sky is the limit as far as creative means to do it. I gave some sample ideas that don't just involve a physical defense.

Generally, I think it will go this way that if a threat still exists, you'll each have to make a similar "defense" roll (where defense may look vastly different from hero to hero).

 

[matt_s]

Sorcery could be a blunt instrument, splitting the heavens with ghostly lightning and hewing the ground beneath spewing forth showers of shattered stone. But not always. Necessity was often best served by better things. Barthalk saw that he was still pursued, reached to the cold ground, and picked up a handful of dust. Tossing it about him, a simple muttered ancient word was spoken to multiply it into a cloud that would obscure mundane and magical sight alike. The unnatural cloud swelled around him, and then he ran.

[Serpentine Cougar]

Running through the familiar streets of the Gaos slums, Tanurak sped towards the frosty rock of Thuvi he had seen in a sudden vision. As he darted around piles of detritus, leapt over sick and sleeping homeless, and swerved out of the way of startled pedestrians, he slowly grew aware of howling and barking coming from nearby streets. The sounds seemed to keep pace with him as he ran, so he knew the creatures making those sounds must be headed the same direction as he.

Suddenly the minotaur emerged into an open square and saw his fear realized: a pack of 4 wolf-like creatures, black as night, followed by their enigmatic handler, entered the square from another corner. Immediately the hounds charged towards him. "How did they know?" Tanurak wondered for a split second - but no time now. The next moment he slapped the sun-shaped tattoo on his left shoulder and clapped his hands together in front of his face at eye level. Blinding white light exploded from his hands and swept towards the charging dogs.

The light leapt from hound to hound, surging over their atramentous hides and burning them up like fire. As their darkness was snuffed out, blackest ash falling to the dusty street, their howls squealed away and were replaced by the screams of three onlookers in the square. Spinning on his hooves, Tanurak didn't wait for the hounds' one-time handler to catch up with him. The other presences from his vision were calling out to him in need, and he would answer their call.

Edited November 16, 2023 by Serpentine Cougar
Interpreting the roll (see edit history)

[Neopopulas]

Level: 1 | Shatter Dice: 4 Tags: Acrobatics, Martial Artist, Sorcerer Attributes: Physical 8, Intuition 7, Intellect 6, Charm

Ysennoth was having a good day, until she wasn't. Travelling from one town to the next was normally a time of reflection and peace where she could not worry about more mundane problems. But today would not be a day like that. Instead today she would run across - or more specifically be ambushed by - a band most foul.

When they appeared on the road ahead of her she maintained her stately and pristine calm, as was her want to do, even in the most dire of circumstances, she most often enjoyed discussing the mistakes of would-be attackers before resorting to more base options but they chose not to give her that chance.

Before her were two glowering men in dark hoods, with their whips and their swords and most importantly, the three slathering hounds, black as night, more shadow than true creature and they wasted no time.

For some time there was little more than the howling of beasts and the crack of whips and the singing of silver bells. The hounds she crushed, their forms becoming less and less distinct, the men she treated little better for to her they seemed less men than beasts themselves and to them she taught lessons in humility they would not - and could not - forget.

It left her dusty, annoyed and once again on her way.. but now with a slightly more keen appreciation for her destination

[roryb]

No more divergent three individuals could have met for the first time in all the worlds of existence and shared the same unspeakable understanding. Standing at the iron crossing to bleak and desecrated Thuvi, each recognized what burned within the breast of the other. There was also a glimmer of the further tasks that lay ahead for them. That prospect presented an unwelcome conflict in many ways for Arendela more than the others, but there would be further chance to ponder.

The howls of the mad hounds echoed among the plinths and markers in the darkness beyond, and they knew the fourth was in dire need. Tanurak sensed a growing dread from behind them, while Arendela noted that slumbering and angry spirits also stirred. Ysennoth intuited the closing in of the remaining hounds to find Barthalk's position as he flitted, ghost-like, from blind to blind.

Show this

Some great posts! Very broadly narrative, and lots of one-and-done rolls. I'm keeping it vague for the time being, but you can each state what you'd like to do here. I've hinted at a few more threats on the horizon. Expect resistance of Average (12) for more discrete things and Hard (15) for more demanding things. If a threat remains, you must face the same number as a defensive type of move.

Sometimes, I will infer a more precise number of things to accomplish so that it is clearly not a roll-once type of situation. We'll let that grow organically.

 

[Colette]

"Greetings, greetings, benefactors, benefactors. Please know me as Arendela Iyaskalla." One hand upon her elkhide parasol and the other pinching up several skirt-layers of her eldersilk ball gown, the dog performs a swishy-swashy curtsy towards the minotaur and the blademistress. "Shards of the divine, searching for a fourth, are we, now? Quite the quaint situation... but, ah." Furry ears wiggle-wiggle-wiggle. "Allow me to calm down our gracious hosts in this graveyard. I am no necropath, mind you, but if the dead are ever in need of one thing, it is the warmth of life."

Arendela twirl-twirl-twirls her umbrella around, creating trails of varicolored light, scented of the most fragrant of flowerbeds, matching the perfume upon her. The rainbow radiance swirls, twirls, whirls in a gyre, then washes outwards, into the surrounding cemetery. The chill drops to a perfect room temperature. Spirits here, there, and everywhere find their psyches soothed, granted reprieve from the emotional abyss of death.

"There we are." A pleased smile, and a wag-wag-wag of her tail. "Everyone deserves a smile, and the dead are no exception. Let us keep walking, that we may unearth shard number four, shall we, benefactors?" Arendela keeps strolling onwards, following her heart quite literally.

Edited November 17, 2023 by Colette (see edit history)

[matt_s]

Let the Hounds toll their awful cry. The Dead has worse in them, and he would show them. Their hearing was a strength, but also a weakness. From the obscured position of his temporary hiding spot, Barthalk seeks out the spirits of Hounds and hounds long gone and decayed into dust. Then, he called forth their very death rattles to drive his pursuers ever further into madness. The squeal of the long dead dying swelled at a pitch above the hearing of living men...

Then, he again focused on thickening the fell mist that was Barthalk's refuge.

[Neopopulas]

Level: 1 | Shatter Dice: 4 Tags: Acrobatics, Martial Artist, Sorcerer Attributes: Physical 8, Intuition 7, Intellect 6, Charm

Ysennoth as as used to road dust and dirty taverns as she is fine balls and glittering parties but she feels, maybe incorrectly though it is rare, that this Arendela is much more familiar with one than the other...

She seemed unconcerned about the distant hours, though perhaps unconcerned is wrong after a longer look, perhaps not unconcerned at all, but simply confident, and at ease in the situation. Confidence can often be mistaken for a lack of concern.

"Well, they do pose some small threat but not one that should be mistaken.. And we should not waste too much time.."

[Serpentine Cougar]

A sense of dread grew in Tanurak's chest that he couldn't shake off. Turning around, he glimpsed movement of a shadow within the fog behind the group of god-shards. Were those elk antlers? In the mists and darkness, he couldn't be sure. He was sure, however, that he didn't want to wait around to see what was coming.

"Nice to meet you both, but we've got to move now!" The minotaur gestured for the two others to keep moving.

Suddenly a chain whipped out of the fog and wrapped itself around one of Tanurak's arms. The chain, its links the width of two fingers, mirrored the much larger ones anchoring Thuvi. He felt himself being pulled into the mists and struggled to plant his feet until he slid against a boulder-sized rock. Bracing against the large stone, he twisted and strained against the chain, trying to snap it in twain with his strength.

With a snap, the smooth chain broke in two, one end sliding back into the shadows, the other left dangling, wrapped around the minotaur's arm. Breathing heavily, he tried to catch his breath for a few seconds before turning on his heels and breaking into a run heading deeper into the graveyard and away from whatever was pursuing them.

Edited November 19, 2023 by Serpentine Cougar
making dialogue sound slightly less contemporary (see edit history)

[roryb]

Tanurak had evaded the new shadowed threat for the moment. The others beheld the shadowy figures crowned in antlers just beyond the loamy mists that veiled everything in a dreariness that even Arendela could not abate. These mysterious figures held their position for the moment, as though watching what the three would do next.

From the isle of rock, a greater mist unnaturally gathered, ripe with a dreadful sorcery, towering like a growing storm and spilling over the very sides of the plinth. The sounds of horrified canine howls came muted from within, but a clear sight they could not glimpse without venturing within and using their other faculties. They felt the recognition of the fourth god-shard within. Inside, the hounds' cruel masters let them off their leashes to use the only gifts they had against the sight-thwarting miasma of sorcery-fortified haze. With fevered wishes of vengeance, to which their bestial minds were capable of giving shape, the remaining hounds went in search of Barthalk's bolthole. They shook from equal parts of rage and terror, and their maws foamed with a mad anticipation for blood.

OOC

There's no test needed for crossing into Thuvi, but there is one to home in on Barthalk. As long as the necromancer does not announce his position, it is an Extra Tough (18) task. No need to roll if he does announce himself. Assuming he does, Barthalk will face a Tough (15) task of fending off the remaining hounds. There are also the handlers milling about. Singly, they pose no significant opposition against you, but may slow you down if you waste much time with them. A Tough (15) roll is needed to deal with them without taking time. Failure indicates it takes longer than you anticipated.

You may wish to do other things here, too. I also created a little wiki for us to keep track of the world-building stuff we do along the way.

---

the SHARDS of GOD wiki

[Colette]

"Goodness, goodness, benefactors, benefactors. I am not entirely certainly as to what, precisely, these antlered fellows are, but they certainly dampen the ambient radiance much too much to my liking." Arendela swing-swing-swings around her parasol.

"Moving on to actionable threats, then! We have been cordially invited to this hallowed, or, I suppose, unhallowed, depending on your perspective, ground by an honored and illustrious associate. These riff-raff have not been." The dog steps forth, pointing her parasol at each of the handlers in turn. From the cold ground emerge great, carnivorous plants, all so very colorful and fragrant, all so laden with such sharp thorns and man-eating maws. They SNAP at the scoundrels with levin's rapidity; with such force are they devoured that the sods do not even have time to scream. The predatory flora linger, ready to swallow other threats whole.

The dog winces and grabs at her upper arm, itself ensconced in many layers of eldersilk. "That took a smidge more effort than I would have preferred, but I will be well, rest assured, benefactors."

Edited November 21, 2023 by Colette (see edit history)

[matt_s]

Discretion is often the better part of valor, and patience the greatest virtue a hunter could possess. Barthalk had time for what he sought would grant him ETERNITY! If his malefactors found him, it would be one at a time, and they would find no easy prey in Barthalk. His doom lay elsewhere, that much Barthalk knew.