Roleplay 1000 Wands of World Wrecking Wonder IC

[Hlaalu Agent]

“Hmm, let’s see.”

Varrys proceeds to pull out a journal and writes down: ‘Wand 0001 has an effect of a normal magic missile.’

“Any other effects?”

"A delayed effect of instantaneous rot" he replied in a horrified toned seeing the scene before him, "I am not sure if it is because of his condition being disturbed, the bite somehow killing him and this effect activating upon death, or it being a delayed effect..." he trailed off a bit trying to keep himself composed, "I am not even sure that it was this wand or another, or their effects combined somehow. I would wager though that further testing should clear it up..." he then added, in a quieter tone, "...and likely make me lose my lunch."

He then composed himself, "We'll have to make sure to disentangle each effect so that we can properly catalogue them."

The man, already severely wounded, tries to bring his hands away from you but is too late. The bite takes off a chunk of his arm from his jerking and is killed outright. What you thought would be fresh meat however, has turned utterly fowl and disgusting. As it slides down your throat you can feel maggots wriggle and spill forth and sink into your stomach. You feel entirely and horribly ill from the act. In front of you, the bandit has rotted away entirely in the span of 20 some odd seconds.

Take 2 poison damage and you now have the poisoned status affect.

This was one of the most horrifying things he had seen in his entire life, and something told him he'd see even greater horrors down the road. Was this the life of an adventurer... Well, that would explain a greater many things.

 

[Abyssgazer]

The man, already severely wounded, tries to bring his hands away from you but is too late. The bite takes off a chunk of his arm from his jerking and is killed outright. What you thought would be fresh meat however, has turned utterly fowl and disgusting. As it slides down your throat you can feel maggots wriggle and spill forth and sink into your stomach. You feel entirely and horribly ill from the act. In front of you, the bandit has rotted away entirely in the span of 20 some odd seconds.

Take 2 poison damage and you now have the poisoned status affect.

For a split moment Boris was pleased at the appearance of succulent maggots right until his prized morsel of softskin flesh turned rancid in the next heartbeat.

Hacking as he piteously let out a whistling whine at the foul meat, he stumbled back as it landed in stomach like sludge sending him falling onto his tail from the sickness that spread from his core. He watched the man melt away as if a candle of fat left next to the firepit.

"Gift Giver, the softskin was no good, his soul must have been as foul as his flesh." Boris woozily complained in dwarven, downing his clans traditional cure for such illness.

The curative booze as he emptied his second skin of bogwine to rinse his mouth of the not too unfamiliar taste of rotting flesh, with the only slightly better flavor of the wine. He decided to just lay on his stomach on the grass and rest until everyone else decided where to go next as he nursing on his terrible wine.

James' cry of outrage becomes a scornful "ah ha!" of a laugh when he sees the monster in anguish.
"It's far less than you deserve you black tongued basilisk! A cheap lesson for a profligate, to slaughter a man granted mercy and eat a man's flesh. Small wonder it sickens you at all, so rotten you are inside."
Even as he berates him in the Dwarvish tongue James' muscles are tense as a spring in case the creature lashes out at him. If this universe has a "Total Defense" state in it's cosmic dictates, James makes liberal use of it now.

To the human's scolding Boris grunted from his prone position. "Boris merely unhanded the man who'd harm the gift giver as he should. In the ways of the mother swamp the feast of your enemy is a victors right." He grumbled in gravely Dwarven as his stomach was in revolt.

 

[Grav]

"A delayed effect of instantaneous rot" he replied in a horrified toned seeing the scene before him, "I am not sure if it is because of his condition being disturbed, the bite somehow killing him and this effect activating upon death, or it being a delayed effect..." he trailed off a bit trying to keep himself composed, "I am not even sure that it was this wand or another, or their effects combined somehow. I would wager though that further testing should clear it up..." he then added, in a quieter tone, "...and likely make me lose my lunch."

He then composed himself, "We'll have to make sure to disentangle each effect so that we can properly catalogue them."



This was one of the most horrifying things he had seen in his entire life, and something told him he'd see even greater horrors down the road. Was this the life of an adventurer... Well, that would explain a greater many things.

“Mhm, further experimentation needed to figure out which is the rot wand.” Varrys picked up some of the bones. “However leaving no flesh behind with clean skeletal system.” Turning the page. “So Any visible effects for other wands?”

Varrys is not disturbed by the gruesome scene. “You must learn to ignore it Theo, historians have read worse and this is a classic sign of intellectual barriers.”

 

[Shipmaster Sane]

To the human's scolding Boris grunted from his prone position. "Boris merely unhanded the man who'd harm the gift giver as he should. In the ways of the mother swamp the feast of your enemy is a victors right." He grumbled in gravely Dwarven as his stomach was in revolt.

James scoffs.
"Merely? Indeed. It's not a swamp you're in, beast, and you'll not do either again."

 

[⚕⚕⚕]

Bierstout flinches, aghast, as the lizardman's fangs snap down on the bandit's wrist. He's not sure what disgusts him more; the spurting of blood out of the stump, the crunching of hand bones, or the glow of relish in the lizard's eyes as it swallows the gruesome snack. The stereotype of the reptilian folk being man-eaters seems to be true after all. I should have been more careful with my choice of words, he groans in his head as he looks sadly down at the rapidly-decomposing corpse.

"We were going to let him go . . ." the dwarf sighs plaintively to no one in particular.

He wonders whether he should berate the Boris clanslizard, but it seems that James and karma both have beaten him to it. The bite that the reptile took must also have turned foul, and the herdsman's rebukes sting with enough vitriol for three.

To the human's scolding Boris grunted from his prone position. "Boris merely unhanded the man who'd harm the gift giver as he should. In the ways of the mother swamp the feast of your enemy is a victors right." He grumbled in gravely Dwarven as his stomach was in revolt.

James scoffs.
"Merely? Indeed. It's not a swamp you're in, beast, and you'll not do either again."

"Peace, comrades!" Bierstout cries in Dwarven, stepping between James and Boris. "It was not his mistake. Mine words were hasty, and ill-considered, and it cost a man his chance at redemption. We cannot fault him for the culture he was born into."

He then turns to the lizard. "For the future, try to remember — to unhand means to release, to let go. To dismember means to remove a hand or a leg."

 

[Shipmaster Sane]

" We cannot fault him for the culture he was born into."

"I'll do more than fault him for it if he does such again."

 

[Hlaalu Agent]

“Mhm, further experimentation needed to figure out which is the rot wand.” Varrys picked up some of the bones. “However leaving no flesh behind with clean skeletal system.” Turning the page. “So Any visible effects for other wands?”

Varrys is not disturbed by the gruesome scene. “You must learn to ignore it Theo, historians have read worse and this is a classic sign of intellectual barriers.”

He looked up noting the sky, "Well, some sort of Aurora effect for one. Though if it has others, time will tell." He then continued, Mine seems to kill or injure, as does yours. Another has a strange sickness effect, or perhaps even magically creates goop for the target to get sick from..." He then thought, "We'll have to interview the others, they might have answers that we don't."

He nodded, "I will try, if only for my own mental health."

 

[⚕⚕⚕]

"I'll do more than fault him for it if he does such again."

"Then we must endeavour to teach him the ways of civilized folk," Bierstout concedes, and sits down next to the ailing Boris.

"Lizard, you must remember to curb your taste for man-flesh. We do not lightly condone the consumption of our fellow peoples. But, if you behave properly, I will reward you with the fruits of mine kinsmen's labor. For is not the taste of beer and ale a sweeter nectar to your tribe than any blood?" With this, there's now a carrot to James's stick.

The young dwarf looks up at the darkening sky, and turns to the rest of their little group. Switching back to the common tongue for the sake of ease of communication, he poses the question of what to do next.

"I don't much like the idea of puttin' me head down on ground where the dead be accursed, and two of the brigands are still out there. Might we go search for this burned-out farmhouse? Even if we don't find them there, it sounds to me like there'll still be treasure and shelter."

 

[Grav]

He looked up noting the sky, "Well, some sort of Aurora effect for one. Though if it has others, time will tell." He then continued, Mine seems to kill or injure, as does yours. Another has a strange sickness effect, or perhaps even magically creates goop for the target to get sick from..." He then thought, "We'll have to interview the others, they might have answers that we don't."

He nodded, "I will try, if only for my own mental health."

“Trying is better than accepting.”

"Then we must endeavour to teach him the”ways of civilized folk," Bierstout concedes, and sits down next to the ailing Boris.

"Lizard, you must remember to curb your taste for man-flesh. We do not lightly condone the consumption of our fellow peoples. But, if you behave properly, I will reward you with the fruits of mine kinsmen's labor. For is not the taste of beer and ale a sweeter nectar to your tribe than any blood?" With this, there's now a carrot to James's stick.

The young dwarf looks up at the darkening sky, and turns to the rest of their little group. Switching back to the common tongue for the sake of ease of communication, he poses the question of what to do next.

"I don't much like the idea of puttin' me head down on ground where the dead be accursed, and two of the brigands are still out there. Might we go search for this burned-out farmhouse? Even if we don't find them there, it sounds to me like there'll still be treasure and shelter."

“A good idea, let us continue on then.” Varrys fiddled with his four daggers and the chilly? wand.

 

[Abyssgazer]

James scoffs.
"Merely? Indeed. It's not a swamp you're in, beast, and you'll not do either again."

Finding no fault in his words he'd told the softskin, Boris couldn't see why the softskin fumed as he snorted recalling back to his clans shaman's words when as a hatchling he'd asked them if the lands outside the swamp were any better.

Thumping his tail in challenge. "Boris is Lizardfolk, not prey beast." He corrected the softskin whoses eyes were clearly going bad, ignoring him in favor of the gift giver.

He then turns to the lizard. "For the future, try to remember — to unhand means to release, to let go. To dismember means to remove a hand or a leg."

His scaled brow furrowed deeply as he tried to fit it together, those were the same? One meant to remove the hand, the other to remove a limb, how did it mean to let someone go?

Boris rumbled 'thoughtfully' trying to make sense of the gift givers words. Though you'd be forgiven for mistaking it for a pissed off swamp alligator, and the scent of rotting matter escaping his mouth, weather from the bogwine or the flesh he'd eaten as he hissed as anyone's guess.

"Then we must endeavour to teach him the ways of civilized folk," Bierstout concedes, and sits down next to the ailing Boris.

"Lizard, you must remember to curb your taste for man-flesh. We do not lightly condone the consumption of our fellow peoples. But, if you behave properly, I will reward you with the fruits of mine kinsmen's labor. For is not the taste of beer and ale a sweeter nectar to your tribe than any blood?" With this, there's now a carrot to James's stick.

Softskin flesh was almost always better than the prey of the swamp, tastier, softer and parts without having to tear and tear at it like frog flesh. Except those short green softskins, their flesh was stringy, though tastier.

On the other hand, the holy liquid of Boris was the brew that gives strength of will. And he'd get the mana brewed by Boris's own stubbykin.

Boris's 'Thinking' hiss deepened. "For the draught of life, Boris could ask what the strange softskin words gift giver uses means before biting." He salivated at the thought, making him mightily thirsty. Standing to his full height he lumbered over not understanding the gift givers question to the group as he elected to sit on the cart the man of the pointy hat and terror had given them resting and nursing his foul bogwine, but made glaces at the barrel of ale he'd purchased.

 

[Hlaalu Agent]

“Trying is better than accepting.”

“A good idea, let us continue on then.” Varrys fiddled with his four daggers and the chilly? wand.

"I know" he said, "Acceptance can lead to apathy. And apathy can lead to death-though isn't it said that apathy itself is death?"

"Indeed. I just need to finish up here, and make sure we did not miss anything" he replied, starting to take a survey over the scene. He made sure to double check to see if they were missing anything of interest before leaving (perception check).

 

[Shipmaster Sane]

"I don't much like the idea of puttin' me head down on ground where the dead be accursed, and two of the brigands are still out there. Might we go search for this burned-out farmhouse? Even if we don't find them there, it sounds to me like there'll still be treasure and shelter."

"Some witchcraft of these wands has lingered on me. I cant say what it's done, but I want to wait and see if the magic presence fades before another fight with bandits."

 

[Hlaalu Agent]

"Some witchcraft of these wands has lingered on me. I cant say what it's done, but I want to wait and see if the magic presence fades before another fight with bandits."

"Ah, perhaps then we should set up, camp then- if there are no objections. I would rather not, put the health of a companion in jeopardy." he replied, now slightly worried about his companion, "I can always study you, and make sure you are alright."

 

[⚕⚕⚕]

"Some witchcraft of these wands has lingered on me. I cant say what it's done, but I want to wait and see if the magic presence fades before another fight with bandits."

"Ah, perhaps then we should set up, camp then- if there are no objections. I would rather not, put the health of a companion in jeopardy." he replied, now slightly worried about his companion, "I can always study you, and make sure you are alright."

"How bad is it?" Bierstout asks with a concerned frown. If his companion is injured, it could be troublesome to move around. Perhaps they would even need to bring him back to Barleyville to rest, or even send for an apothecary or healer. Yet this particular campground may very well still be saturated with foul magic, and the trail of the two fugitives would be long-cold if they waited until morning to pursue. "Can ye walk, or would that cause more harm? Ye don't haf'ta fight; the rest o' our wands should be more'an enough for two cravens."

 

[Abyssgazer]

Sitting on the cart as he rested Boris drank he made small preparations, rising his empty bogwine skin out with his water, rising it slightly of its flavor before refilling it from his barrel of ale as the Gift giver spoke in the tongue of softskins among the others.

Sipping of the bogwine skin he was working on he spied the remedy peddling softskin, simply staring as like a hatching that refused to leave the clan home to explore the swamp.

To Boris he knew exactly what she needed to return to action if she was to survive... The draught of Boris!

For it gave the will to the clan to overcome fear in the face of fierce predators and gave them a pleasure in their existence lacking of any other.

@Draco

Hopping off the cart Boris lumbered over with his aleskin to the softskin, then held out the skin awaiting her to take it, to drink more as that little flask was clearly not enough for her. Shaking it expectantly at her he would see what she did before he went any further.

Hatchlings sometimes needed more help.

 

[Draco]

And now, a short recap of the events that have just transpired through the eyes of a frightened young woman who doesn't speak Dwarf, also known as Hastria.

>The last bandit was at their mercy, begging for his life after vomiting a strange substance.
>James told the man that he had to live as a priest or he would die.
>Bierstout had Boris intimidate the bandit so that he would give them information. The bandit appeared to answer to the group's satisfaction.
>After the bandit asked if he could go, James said he could, but then Bierstout said something to Boris in another language, which led the lizard to bite the bandit's hand off, killing him. His corpse rotted away soon after like the others.
>James laughed as Boris grew sick, and appeared to be acting aggressive towards the lizard, but Bierstout came between them, seemingly in Boris' favor.
>Theodoric interjected, but what he said she knew not. Varrys appeared unconcerned, and had even leveled his wand at the helpless man as if to kill him himself.

As far as the traumatized dhampir could tell, Bierstout had tricked the bandit into thinking he would let him live in exchange for information, and once he had said his peace the dwarf ordered Boris to eat the man. Perhaps he would have continued to do so had his body not decomposed so quickly. That possibility, coupled with the already gruesome display of savagery, left Hastria feeling even more sick than she had already, her breaths coming out in short, strained gasps.

@Draco

Hopping off the cart Boris lumbered over with his aleskin to the softskin, then held out the skin awaiting her to take it, to drink more as that little flask was clearly not enough for her. Shaking it expectantly at her he would see what she did before he went any further.

Hatchlings sometimes needed more help.

Upon realizing the man-eater was suddenly very close to her, Hastria let out an ear-piercing shriek of terror. After scrambling some 40 feet distant from the lizard, Hastria turns and levels the wand she had used to kill the bandit James missed and cries out:

"GET BACK, MONSTER!!!"

If Boris should make to approach her, Hastria has prepared an action to shoot him with the wand if he moves even one foot closer.

 

[Shipmaster Sane]

"Ah, perhaps then we should set up, camp then- if there are no objections. I would rather not, put the health of a companion in jeopardy." he replied, now slightly worried about his companion, "I can always study you, and make sure you are alright."

"How bad is it?" Bierstout asks with a concerned frown. If his companion is injured, it could be troublesome to move around. Perhaps they would even need to bring him back to Barleyville to rest, or even send for an apothecary or healer. Yet this particular campground may very well still be saturated with foul magic, and the trail of the two fugitives would be long-cold if they waited until morning to pursue. "Can ye walk, or would that cause more harm? Ye don't haf'ta fight; the rest o' our wands should be more'an enough for two cravens."

"It's hard to tell how bad it is, I've little experience with magic, but I can't help but feel it could well be a liability in a fight. Perhaps I should head back to the carts and wait for you there."

 

[Abyssgazer]

Upon realizing the man-eater was suddenly very close to her, Hastria let out an ear-piercing shriek of terror. After scrambling some 40 feet distant from the lizard, Hastria turns and levels the wand she had used to kill the bandit James missed and cries out:

"GET BACK, MONSTER!!!"

If Boris should make to approach her, Hastria has prepared an action to shoot him with the wand if he moves even one foot closer.

Ah, she is like scared hatchling hiding in the mud and willing to bite off a finger that strays too close. The large lizard assumed the holy squatting pose of Boris and itched at the tears of Gaius under his eyes trying to remember something. His tongue flicking out to taste the air for the scent of any predators as he attempted to puzzle out what would send the hatchling running.

With no predators on the air he delved into memory.

How did mother Boris deal with him again? His eyes narrow as he recalled being lead from the hole of muck lead by the scent of bogshine.

Now if only he knew what it was the little softskin shieked, leaving his ears ringing. He pondered the answer slowly working his way to... something as he poured the clean and almost sweet tasting common ale from Barleyville from the skin into his mouth. Swishing it in his mouth to cleanse the foul taste away of the rotted flesh with the pleasurable taste of ale.

@Hlaalu Agent

Gift Giver seemed busy and he'd sworn to ask him what softskin words meant... Perhaps the softskin who smelled of paper and spoke his people's tongue would do.

"Softskin of books what did the little scared running hatchling say, and why does she run when there are no predators?" Boris motioned to Hastria unconcerned.

 

[Hlaalu Agent]

"It's hard to tell how bad it is, I've little experience with magic, but I can't help but feel it could well be a liability in a fight. Perhaps I should head back to the carts and wait for you there."

"Then, perhaps I should attend to you, no matter what we do. Make sure that nothing horrible happens."

@Hlaalu Agent

Gift Giver seemed busy and he'd sworn to ask him what softskin words meant... Perhaps the softskin who smelled of paper and spoke his people's tongue would do.

"Softskin of books what did the little scared running hatchling say, and why does she run when there are no predators?" Boris motioned to Hastria unconcerned.

Theodoric sighed, "She is afraid of you, Boris. The whole situation itself was traumatic, and your mistake just made things worse. Most sapient species have a fear of being eaten, and react poorly towards their own. I would wager yours might think differently, but each species thinks differently than ones in some way. And she doesn't understand the situation, because she doesn't understand why you did it, so it appears to be some unprovoked attack as opposed to a misunderstand stemming from our differing ways of thinking. So you understand what I am saying? And am I right you misunderstood "unhand"? If our dwarven friend explained it, and you don't quite understand, I can try to help you understand better."

 

[⚕⚕⚕]

"It's hard to tell how bad it is, I've little experience with magic, but I can't help but feel it could well be a liability in a fight. Perhaps I should head back to the carts and wait for you there."

"Then, perhaps I should attend to you, no matter what we do. Make sure that nothing horrible happens."

"Well, I would'na mind splittin' up into two groups," he considers. "Two or three've ye can stay here and take care o' things, and the rest o'us can go see to the farmhouse and the two runners. Then again, I don't want ta leave the wands lightly defended . . . seein' as we were charged wi'them by Gambledore himself . . ."

But before he can continue thinking, perhaps suggesting that James come with them by riding comfortably on the cart, a sudden commotion nearby grabs his attention.

Upon realizing the man-eater was suddenly very close to her, Hastria let out an ear-piercing shriek of terror. After scrambling some 40 feet distant from the lizard, Hastria turns and levels the wand she had used to kill the bandit James missed and cries out:

"GET BACK, MONSTER!!!"

"Hey, that kinda name-callin's uncalled for —" Bierstout starts to protest. Hadn't he just defused the problem (albeit temporarily)? Perhaps she's just a little slow, it would make sense since she's only a few years old. He turns and starts taking a step towards the girl, but stops short as she whips out her wand and points it in their direction.

By Gaius's great bushy beard! he swears in his head. He doesn't want to die like these bandits have, especially not at the hands of someone who was supposed to be a comrade. Is she trying to kill us all?!?!

"Steady on there, lass," he says in his best 'soothing' voice, the same tone he'd use to calm a particularly recalcitrant donkey or a skittish kitten, as he takes a step back and raises his empty palms like a poor farmer begging a rapacious robber for mercy. "Didnae ye hear me the first time? Boris ain' no monster — 'twas a cultural an' linguistic misunnerstandin'! When I said ta let 'im go, it sounded like I was tellin' him ta bite. He's already promised not ta do it any more, okay? No more reason ta be afeared o' him!"