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Vapourware [Play-by-post] Lamentations in Averoigne

SoupNazi

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I mentioned a mask, not masks, hence the misunderstanding. I've amended Finn's dialogue.
 

nikolokolus

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Estelle pulls her hand away, "Presumptuous brute! 5 deniers up front, the rest payable no matter what I find out in a week. Deal?"
 

SoupNazi

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Following the bad charisma roll, Finn nods. "Deal." and dishes out the deniers.
 

nikolokolus

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The Next Day . . .

The party takes their free bottles of wine (it would be rude, not to accept hospitality after all) and eventually retires to their rooms or quarters -- some early, some quite late. The inn finally quiets down around midnight and you all drop off to sleep. In the morning you wake up feeling refreshed or hung over, as the case may be, but no worse for wear. Jean-Baptiste says that the strange group left an hour before dawn, but were headed towards Vyones. One of their number had to be helped on to the back of a horse and they all rode off into the predawn half-dark. They have apparently retained their suites here on the third floor of the inn and their mules are still in the stable.

You all quickly go into Armand's shabby little emporium and buy up a few hammers, chisels, and shovels and set out into the marsh about an hour after sunup. The journey back to the barrows is sidetracked somewhat as you temporarily lose your way in the dense mist. you don't get back to the dig site from yesterday's labors until well after midday. Fortunately your camouflaged door seems undisturbed, but you do notice dozens of wolf tracks criss-crossing the ground here. Among them Requin spies a set of canine prints that are at least twice as wide and deep as the rest. If this was made by a wolf, it must be huge -- far larger than any of the wolves you saw yesterday.

With nothing else for it, you all chip in removing the detritus and brush and get to work chiseling the mortar of the seal. An hour or so later, the seal is breached and you see a short staircase descending into cob-webbed choked depths.
 

L'ennui

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Guillemin wipes the sweat of his brow. "Well, let's hope we can at least make those bastards jealous." With a more somber tone and an uneasy glance at the survivors of the previous barrow, he continues: "Be careful, everyone. We don't want to end up like last time..."

Been a hectic past few days, apologies if I haven't been posting much.
 

nikolokolus

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Peering into the gloom reveals a very dingy looking stairwell. Stone trusses are set apart about every 5 feet in a triangular arch and the stairs themselves and the walls look like they are carved from living basalt about 5 feet down. The stairwell doesn't descend very deeply from what you can see, maybe 10 feet deep at the bottom. Cobwebs choke the chamber and there are roots hanging down from the earthen ceiling. The floor appears to be completely dry (for a change).
 

AdamReith

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Enjoy the Revolution! Another revolution around the sun that is.
Grima suggests that party sets a marching order.

Grima is happy to take up the rear with his bow, or go front line with his shield.
 

SoupNazi

Guest
Finn readies his crossbow with a silver bolt. The shield on his back, whip to one side, bastard sword in its scabbard on the other, he pushes forward to be the first one in on the marching order. He asks one of the lantern-wielders to stay close behind him and illuminate the way over his shoulder. The crossbow is up and ready - as he descends the stairs, he keeps it trained in front of him, checking every nook and cranny with the sights first.

There's an odd grin on the young man's face. Almost a smirk. Like he's happy to descend into the maddeningly dangerous dark...
 

AdamReith

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Enjoy the Revolution! Another revolution around the sun that is.
In that case Grima will take up the rear of the group, bow at the ready.

Can also protect weaker characters if we get attacked from the rear.
 
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nikolokolus

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Finn feels an insane rush of adrenaline as he enters the threshold from the land of the living to that of the underworld. Maybe it's just an overactive imagination, but he there's an almost palpable sense of doom on this place. The squared entrance chamber is about 6 paces wide and long, before opening up into a wide semi-circular chamber beyond. A large, heavy pillar stands in the center of the dingy crumbling tomb.
 

Snorkack

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Daphne is happy to take a position near the frontline and occasionally probes the ceiling with her staff. "This eroded mound does not inspire my confidence. Let's stay alert for signs of an impending cave-in."
 

Grimgravy

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Codex 2016 - The Age of Grimoire
Ganelon takes his customary position in the middle, but with Rolf carrying his lantern. He scans the the masonry for signs of danger.
 

nikolokolus

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As the troupe carefully proceeds, Guillemin notes that the ceiling has crumbled badly in a few places and that one of the stone trusses, is sagging noticeably. The possibility of cave-in seems remote, but not unthinkable if there were enough disturbance. Aware of the sorry state of the construction, but satisfied for the moment that there is no immediate threat, the group carefully proceeds into the vaulted chamber. When Daphne and Finn walk to either side of the massive pillar in the center of the room, they catch their breath as they are startled to see something quite unexpected at the edge of their dim lantern light: A skeleton, in a breastplate of antiquated design and chained to the far northern part of the chamber wall from manacles. It is hanging, with its arms outstretched to either side and it's helmeted head hangs limply against its chest. You heave a sigh of relief as it doesn't move or do anything else unnatural.
 

Snorkack

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Daphne approaches the shackled figure and pokes it with her quarterstaff from distance. "Now which crime might you poor sod have been punished for?", she mumbles.
 

nikolokolus

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The butt of Daphne's staff taps the breastplate and the figure gently sways in its manacles.
 

SoupNazi

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Finn circles the room with his crossbow still raised. He's moving like a soldier - scanning it up and down, ceiling to floor then back up, his brain adamant that there must be more to it. Only once he feels he'd checked the chamber sufficiently enough does he rest and lower the crossbow; then he clips it onto a leather shoulder band that keeps it suspended at the rear of his thigh.

"Do we take it down?"

He asks the party while withdrawing the whip from his belt; if nobody objects, Finn will try to use his skill with the whip to capture each of the skeleton's wrists, one by one, and tear it from its captivity by force.
 

Snorkack

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"Allow me to help you out of those uncomfortable armaments, Warrior," she says with gentle tone and begins stripping off the skeleton's equipment, starting with the sword.
 

nikolokolus

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Finn offers up the possibility of using his whip on the skeleton's limp form, but Daphne waves him aside.

Mustering her courage, Daphne decides that the ancient corpse poses no threat. She walks up to it and grabs hold of the breastplate. As soon as she does so the ancient corpse raises its head and she beholds a glowing phantasmal eyeball in one eye socket staring at her. It opens its mouth and lets out such a blood chilling wail that everyone with the room practically feels their bones jump out of their body. Daphne staggers backward and the skeleton continues its wailing and ranting for a dozen seconds or more, violently strainging against its bonds. Eventually, the figure stops struggling and stares straight at Daphne, and asks in sepulchural voice, (in Latin) "Who are you?!"

It is the most forlorn, and despairing voice she's ever heard.
9SInyMu.jpg
 
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Snorkack

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Daphne takes a few moments to catch breath and lets her goosebumps recede, she did clearly not expect this. With slightly trembling voice, she answers "I am Daphne van der Strijdveen and in search for something very dear to me. Accept my apologies if I disturbed your slumber, Monsieur... well, to whom do I owe this pleasure?". Though trying to appear welcoming and harmless, the grip on her staff is firm and she expects to have to fight for her dear life any second.
 

AdamReith

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Enjoy the Revolution! Another revolution around the sun that is.
Grima surveys the strange skeleton, noting any possibility he might have of escaping his shackles to attack the group.

"What a treasure this tomb holds."
 

SoupNazi

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The moment the skeleton speaks up, Finn trains the crossbow on its bony face, an itchy finger on the trigger. Other than that, he leaves the talking to those more attuned with magicka.
 

nikolokolus

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Grima asseeses the soundness of the talking corpse's chains and the leg and arm irons that hold it fast. He is not straining against them any longer, but they seemed to hold him fast when he animated and put all of his force against them.

To Daphne, the skeleton speaks in an archaic form of Latin, that while intelligible, takes those of you fluent a moment to piece the words together. "A strange name . . . I can't say I've ever heard its like." He pauses, as he seems to struggle with the formation of words. "It's been so . . . long since I have spoken. I had almost forgotten what my voice even sounds like. I am Marcus Vitulus, Praetorian to Septimus Severus. Servant of the hidden flame, and 5th grade Perses. I am . . . pleased to meet you."
 

Snorkack

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"The pleasure is all mine, Marcus Vitulus. You seem to have come a long way. We all would be most interested to hear what made you end up in these... peculiar surroundings."
 

AdamReith

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Enjoy the Revolution! Another revolution around the sun that is.
Grima finds a comfy rock to sit on.
 

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