Fotíste ti Nýchta: Illuminate the Night

[Seraph Darkfire]

"There are things beyond this world that we do not fully understand, we can't-"

"Silence, this is our only option. The Nýchta is growing, it has already covered the southern islands."

"Agreed. The Nýchta is the most pressing concern. We will deal with these "Adventurers" after they have dealt with our problem. They may be incapable of dying but they may be restrained in other ways. Have the templates been prepared?"

"Of course sir, they are currently being placed on the island, awaiting transubstantiation"

"Have the clerics begin."

It doesn't matter what you were doing at the time. You could be sleeping, playing video games, playing outside, at the club, reading at the library. Suddenly, a flash of light appears in front of your eyes, as if someone was taking your picture. Then everything goes black. A voice in your ears speaks softly "You have been chosen, given new life, use it to strike at the darkness which grows throughout our land"

Something floats into your vision, a single icosahedron, otherwise known as a d20. When you reach out to touch it, it begins to rapidly spin in random directions. As it does, several words appear in front of it.

"Selecting Race, Class, Attributes.

Location: Central Iveer.........."

The die suddenly stopped, landing on twenty.

"Hmm, this is their plan? A random group of Otherworlders?" a woman's voice enters your ears "Lets change up the story for a bit." there was a soft chuckle as the die began to spin, faster than before.

"Location: Isle of the Lost. Dungeon of the Final Keep"

"This'll be fun. Don't dissapoint now"

Then you dropped.

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

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"Keep in mind that I am the Dungeon Master and if you continue to annoy me, I may have to Destroy you."

Dungeon Master Seraph Darkfire Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions: IAmAlpharius bh18 MagicalSnow07 ArbitraryC W WindCrystal

Mood: Ready to Begin.

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Startling awake, you find yourself surrounded by stone walls. As you sit up, you look around and see that only three of the walls are stone, the fourth one is a grate of some sort. After a moment to gather your bearings, you quickly realize that you are in some sort of cell.

A cursory check reveals that the cell door is indeed locked. But this isn't the strangest thing about your surroundings, given that it is already very strange.

In the top left of your vision you spot several numbers, though they make no sense at first. AC, HP, Spell Slots. It is all very confusing. You decide to take a moment to gather your thoughts and decide what to do next.

Your mind is fuzzy as thoughts and feelings not your own begin to filter through. There is a strange sense of strength in your body and you are not sure where it comes from, whether your body itself is strong, or maybe your mind.

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[bh18]

Right at the start Glen, although according to the numbers his name was now Finrich, had a laundry list of questions categorized by order of increasing profanity, but right now they were shelved in favor of trying to get out of this cell! The only problem was how; locked gates make for a decent deterrent.

He went up to the bars and looked out.

 

[MagicalSnow07]

Lia stirred awake, opening her emerald green eyes. Like waking up from a long slumber, everything was hazy. All of a sudden she realized how cold the stone floor she was laying on was. ‘Wait... Where am I?’

Slowly she sat up, taking in her surroundings. Small, damp and cold were three words that described this place. This wasn’t her room, and it certainly wasn’t familiar… It looked like some sort of prison cell.

She felt scared, but then another part of her felt angry and pissed. She didn’t know what she was feeling.

She looked at the grated wall “Hello!” she called out and gasped, that didn’t sound like her voice. She kept thinking that this must be a dream, a very odd, weird dream.

 

[IAmAlpharius]

Erin flinched as the pot of ink fell off the table, smacking into the ground with a small crack. The lid had stayed on, but the flimsy plastic had broken, letting the bright red ink fly everywhere. She sighed, reaching over to grab a towel before she bent back down to pick up the broken bottle. The deep, true black, great for lettering, was already beginning to stain the wood floor. She grumbled under her breath, cursing her clumsiness. The small bottle was the most expensive she owned, and it had been a birthday gift from Casey. She blinked once, and the floor disappeared in a flash. When her eyes finally adjusted, it seemed the black ink had stained them. She worried for a split second that she had fainted again and actually gotten ink in her eyes, until a strange voice echoed in her ears.
“You have been chosen, given new life, use it to strike at the darkness which grows throughout our land"
Yep, she was definitely not awake. Well, she figured, she’d learned to lucid dream years ago, she might as well have fun with it.
The die floated in front of her face and she gave it her attention, listening intently to what she thought was her brain’s doing. It was much more imaginative and more vivid than usual, she thought as she listened to the voices in her ears.
“This’ll be fun. Don’t disappoint now.”

She fell hard on the bedroll in the corner, though not as hard as she’d expected, falling as fast as she thought she had. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her rump, finding her tail to be largely unhurt.
Wait. Her tail? She searched again, and sure enough, there was a long, soft scaled tail poking out of her backside. The panic hit quickly, and she braced herself against the wall, waiting to black out again as she did nearly every time she had a panic attack, but her eyes remained open. Her hands remained in the control, and as she realized this, she took a closer look at them.
She had two of them, which was reassuring, but the deep red color was not. She reached back, breathing heavily, and grasped her tail once again, taking a look at the red scales, with a barely noticeable dorsal stripe of darker reds. She heaved a shaky sigh, counting slowly to herself to calm down, and put her face in those red hands for a moment.
She shook, confused, and went to stroke her short hair. In its place, however, she found quite long hair and two, coiled horns, and though she couldn’t see them without a mirror or similar, she just knew that they would be the same dark red as her tail, fading to black at the tips. She knew now what her face would look like, just as red as her hands, with bright, pale gold eyes, a pert nose, and a chin more pointed than her real, or rather previous, body.
She needed to get out of here. Damaia’s eyes opened again, and she took a deep breath turning to look about the room carefully, checking for any easy means of escape. Seeing the cell door, she stood carefully, getting a feel of her new body, and ran over, her hand instinctually raising to face the lock side of the door. She quickly cast the first cantrip she remembered, Firebolt, at the door.

[Fire Bolt: 21 to hit. On success, 10 fire damage]

 

[ArbitraryC]

A pounding headache stirred him awake. "Holy...What did John put in the-," as he spoke the voice sounded odd, pitched higher and almost melodic. The muddled haze of his emerging thoughts couldn't wrap themselves around the question before a new set arose. A hand, rubbing across his forehead, met a protrusion. Eyes snapping open, he traced the hard curve of...a horn? Sitting up, he felt over his face with both hands. The horn had a twin, and with that realization he cast a look around the tiny cell. Itself a mystery, one more for the list, but he had to start somewhere else.

A cot, no, stone walls, no, a stinking bucket-

Gross, but yes.

With a body that was weighted wrong but still sure of limb, he scrambled over the floor to reach the bucket in the corner. Filth he didn't care to name floated within and the putrid reek almost made him gag, but the fluid inside still gave a reflection. The face that stared back wasn't his, but instead one he'd sketched a dozen times the last few weeks. Every detail was there down to the little flaws in the facial paint and the way the grayed over hues had the barest hint of a visible iris. Casey looked down, and his angsting tiefling ladyknight Mourn stared back.

"What the fuck." Instead of the violent seizure he'd, she'd?, expected it came slowly, like a friend touching his shoulder before pulling him into its embrace. Panic rose, spreading through their blood under the bid of a quickening heart until the end of their fingers tingled and shook. He, she, sat back and breathed, trying to make sense of the face in the muck and the cell. It's a dream? I'm insane? How do you tell if you've gone completely batshit? The change of posture put the door in view.

Casey/Mourn stood, staggering on an unfamiliar body that only half compensated for the weight of a tail, and stumbled to the door, "Hello? Anyone out there?"

No aid is coming. A paladin is the aid.

The words appeared in their mind with the iron weight of a long held mantra. Mourn examined the door to see which of the hinges or lock was most likely to yield, picked a target, and stepped back. A mighty blow that Casey would have described as a Fireman's kick slammed into the weak member. If it didn't relent then another would come fast on the heels of the first.

(24 Athletics, or 22 Strength check)

 

[WindCrystal]

There is exactly one phrase which crossed Jen’s mind when, on a sedate Tuesday night, just as she was opening up her laptop to start put some “finishing touches” onto a report that was due tomorrow, the world flashed and dropped out from under her and a d20 appeared in the air before her eyes. That phrase does not bear repeating in polite company, but she yelped it aloud anyways as her fingers reached forth, without the consent nor input from her mind, and cast the die into motion. She said it a few more times just for good measure as words spun and twisted in the air around her, in her ears, in her mind, and then suddenly she was falling, falling, falling—

She landed as if waking from a dream, that sudden jarring of the senses that nearly mimics pain, disorientating, and for a second even as she pushed herself up on the damp rock she could almost believe it was the rough carpet of back home.

And then her eyes adjusted, and Jen knew how wrong she was.

The room she was in was smaller even than her low-rent dorm, stone walls, stone floor, stone walls draped in layers of greenish wet moss. She breathed in, and the air reeked of mold and decay and the unmistakable perfume of a Port-O-John at the state fair. Bucket in the corner, leaking a sickly-looking fluid into the spaces between the stones. Straw bedding in another, dusted fungal black. Disgust. Stench. Unfamiliarity, cold, fear, what, what what what what the fuck what the fuck what--

Alright, alright, breathe, don’t panic, now is not the panicking time. There were a number of perfectly logical explanations to this turn of events, foremost in her mind the one where the brownies her roommate had just supplied her with were just a wee bit more special than simply having Andes mint pieces crushed up in them and in the morning she was going to wake up in Captain America underpants and a funny hat on the quad trying to Fus-Roh-Dah some squirrels. Infinity more preferable than the reality that the slime-slick puddle of dank moisture gathered in a poorly constructed shallow in the corner of the cell was showing to her—familiar sun-specked cheeks and shoulders gone the milky color of her morning macchiato, usual dark hair burnished to straw gold in the dim light of the torch, eyes like green glass and, and—her hand reached up and—what the everloving blimbork—brushed the tips of her pointed ears. One was pierced in the peaked cartilage of it. Jen plucked at it hard and oh yeah, that hurt.

Jen didn’t really think it was possibly to dream or hallucinate, no matter how hopped up on various substances legal and illegal alike one might be, perfect sensation and pain perception in a body part one had never had nor had ever before this point imagined having.

There was likely an assemblage of other, significantly more productive things Jen could be doing with her first moments within this cell that were not screaming in shock and horror, but frankly, she was too busy with said screaming to think of any right now.

It was several moments—4 rounds, an odd little voice in her head whispered, but screw that voice because it wasn’t hers and also what in the blue blazes did that mean—before Jen forced herself to breathe normally, and try to make some semblance of sense of it all.

She had never seen the face in the water—her face—ever before in the real world, but she recognized it well enough. She’d seen it once, on an image she’d commissioned Casey to do in preparation for their upcoming game. Premna. Premna no-last-name-given, because she’d forgotten to add one to her character sheet, though she had been thinking of Xiloscient because that sounded cool though she had no idea how to pronounce it focus focus focus what difference did that make this was… significantly not right, in a number of ways. When she blinked, hard, smudges in the corner of her vision began to take shape and—what fresh hell was this, numbers? Not just numbers, stats—she knew because she’d just spent like 20 whole minutes waffling back and forth between putting her one super great score in Cha, Dex, or Int. She thought she could even see the smudges around the numbers from where she’d erased and rewritten them again and again, but that could have been something to do with the panic once again starting to grip her chest and blur over her vision. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know what was going on. All she knew was that she’d spontaneously warped herself into some low-rent version of a YA fantasy novel and that was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do with her Tuesday.

The walls were close in and getting closer, breath hitching, a distressing flush creeping up in her cheeks as she struggled to make sense of this. There was a door—locked when she tried it, of course, that’s what doors are in jail cells, otherwise what’s the point. Locked was not good for someone who felt like she was suffocating in the dense earthy air. Words began to form themselves in the back of her mind, both arcane and poetic, and unbidden either way you sliced it. She didn’t know them, yet, she wasn’t letting herself focus on them—but they were lying in wait, ready to spring forth when she called. She bent to inspect the lock.

Investigation Check 16

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

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"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair."

Fahalil (Alexander) Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions:

Mood: Confused and a little hurt.

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"Ugh...my head" Alexander mumbled as he slowly sat up, rubbing his temples "I told them I didn't want to drink...I'm gonna drop them into a pit full of monsters next time" he shook his head slightly and frowned. The sound of his voice wasn't right but he figured that was the effect of being hungover, though as he sat there, his headache was slowly fading. It was only then did he notice that he was sitting on top of an old sleeping bag like thing "The hell?" he mumble as he lifted up the ragged blankets. He slowly looked around and quickly found that he was not in his room. He hopped up with a nimbleness that caught him off guard, sending him stumbling for a moment. His body was much lighter than he remembered.

"Holy hell!" he stepped back from the cell door he'd stumbled up to "That is a huge door!" he blinked before he looked at his hands and then the rest of the room "This whole room is huge...oh shit"

He moved over to the bucket in his room but it was unfortunately, or fortunately, empty so he couldn't get a look at himself. So he was delegated to touching his face and feeling the different features, as he moved down his body he found that he wasn't just short, he was petite as well and he was wearing some sort of...dress?

Another quick check revealed that he was, in fact, male. After a moment of relief, he turned to look at the door "How am I supposed to open this?" he paused when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. It was a staff, about as tall as he was. When he took it into his hands a strange feeling of familiarity filled his mind as he slowly twirled it with practiced grace.

He looked at the door and knew his new small frame wasn't going to work when it came to breaking an iron door. Then he blinked as a new source of information filled his mind "I could cast a spell and increase my striking power"

He shook his head. It sounded like his new voice had been speaking in his head. He felt on his side and found a small bag resting there, digging around in it, he pulled out a small branch covered in white flowers "Mistletoe" the name appeared in his mind. With a soft hum, he focused and felt a strange energy in his chest move to the staff and slowly fill it. After a moment, he could tell that the staff was stronger.

After taking a moment to aim, he struck out at the door near the lock.

With decent accuracy, he managed to strike perfectly on the lock, causing the door to shutter and strain against its bracing but it held. The sudden vibration from striking the door caused him to drop the staff and he could immediately feel the magic keeping the spell active cut off "Tsk" he mumbled to himself as he knelt down, shaking his hands slightly before picking up the staff again. He'd have to try again.

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[Seraph Darkfire]

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"Keep in mind that I am the Dungeon Master and if you continue to annoy me, I may have to Destroy you."

Dungeon Master Seraph Darkfire Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions: IAmAlpharius bh18 MagicalSnow07 ArbitraryC W WindCrystal

Mood: Ready to Begin.

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Finrich/Glen
As Glen steps up to the bars, he finds it hard to see much outside. He does however manage to see the flickering light of a torch about fifteen feet away from him to the left. If he wishes to see anything else, he'll have to leave his cell.

Lia/
Despite not actively looking, Lia can see the light of a torch from outside of her cell as she looks towards the door and even further away she can see another light against a far wall. After calling out for someone, she suddenly hears a loud clang, like metal striking stone.

Damaia/Erin
Damaia's efforts at casting the spell paid off moderately. A powerful blast of fire shot from her hand and struck the door firmly, causing it to warp slightly. When the bright flash of light and heat dissipated, Damaia found that the door was still standing in place, clearly damaged but not broken open yet.

Mourn/Casey
Just as Mourn pulls back to kick, she hears the distant sound of a woman calling out "Hello?" before executing a well aimed kick, striking a particularly weak hinge. The kick knocks the hinge loose. Without the added strength from the hinge, the door slowly peels away from the opening and falls to the ground with a powerful clang.
Congratulations! As the first person to escape their cell, you gain twenty exp.
You can now see the hallway outside of your cell.
Mourn is able to see further down the hallway than from his cell. The first thing he notices is a door off to the right. It is a simple wooden door. Further forwards is an intersection. All three paths he can take look nearly identical.

Spoiler: Hallway outside of Cell

Prenma/Jen
Leaning forwards to examine the lock, Prenma quickly figures out that it is a regular old fashioned lock. Anyone with the right tools could unlock this. Even more observation brings the understanding that the lock is worn. Normally, it would take quite a bit of force to break the lock or the door, but due to old age and neglect, the lock and door are both quite weak. For such good observations, Prenma notices that the door is unlocked. One would only need to turn the handle of the door to open it.
Congratulations! As the first person to actually examine the lock, you gain ten exp.

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[bh18]

There was no one around, not a single person in sight to make sure that their 'prisoner' wasn't escaping.

Well if they're gonna be lax, might as well oblige!

He steps back to examine the door again. As previously established it was locked; however, someone had already knocked it down so it couldn't be too hard, even if it was fairly large.

Why such a large door in the first place? Actually, looking it and the room over again...

"Why am I so SHORT?!" He yelled, panicking a tiny bit. "No no! Not the time Glen! You're trapped in a cell, and it's time to leave!" His nerves calmed, temporarily, Glen's head clears and gets an idea.

The cell is obviously sized for your bog-standard human, not a hobbit, the door was essentially a set of crossing bars, and according to his 'Stats' and a general feeling, his new body was fairly nimble. Maybe he can squeeze through the gaps?

He sizes up the door before trying.


Investigation Check: 17

 

[ArbitraryC]

As a few final kicks burned away a bit of the adrenaline and crashed the door to the ground, Casey/Mourn indulged in a moment of thought. Decrepit cell conditions, no response to the noise except a call from far beyond, this place was less than ill equipped to hold anyone. Casey peeked out through the open portal and, finding no one, stepped through.

Mourn slapped across their tangled thoughts.

Care for your blade and it will care for you!

Casey flinched back. Guided by a memory not his own, Casey crouched down beside the damp straw that a more generous soul might have described as a bed and rummaged through it. Within were weapons and a backpack. Without even undoing the straps Casey knew what lay within, could all but see the neat arrangement of wrapped rations, tidy cutlery in its mess kit, weapon oils, and spare fabric. To Casey one big sword was the same as the other. Nevertheless Casey knew down to Mourn's bones that this one was a zweihander. There was no proper sheath, it was too big for such a thing, but wrappings of canvas shielded the blade from muck. Mourn stood, holding the blade one handed and reversed between the guard and parierhaken, parry hook, where the balance fell. The pause gave Casey time to think.

Stop panicking. Floating things at the edge of his vision that he'd taken for specks on his glasses, well, such an explanation didn't hold up to scrutiny in a world where glasses might not even exist yet. Hit Points, a little bar labeled Lay On Hands, Armor Class, and more. Stop panicking, think, what did he know for sure? Even as Mourn stirred Casey tried to line his thoughts up. I am thinking. I am aware of myself. I have a Heads Up Display appropriate for my favorite tabletop.

Great. We're crazy. Now what?

Someone needs me! A paladin is the aid!

Another flinch. They glanced out the open door. That was a stretch. One person responding with 'Hello' a plea for aid did not make.

I need a decision or your turn will be skipped.

Casey was through the door before he realized Mourn had got them moving. Figure this out as you go. Others watch, a Paladin acts. Naught but a glance was spared to the wooden door near the cell, it was too near to have been where the other voice originated. As Mourn arrived at the intersection they called out again, "Hello? Someone out there? I can get you out!"

During the pause that awaited a response Casey/Mourn examined the three new paths.

[18 Perception check]

 

[IAmAlpharius]

Erin gaped at the door, then at her hand. Had she really done that?

No, obviously not, she didn’t have that power, but her new body clearly did, along with the power to not pass out constantly- so far. She settled herself with a sigh, turning back to look around her cell. If she really was in her character’s body, surely she would have equipment somewhere, right? Or was that going to be part of the quest?

Her wonderings were answered as she found her small backpack tied to a staff nearly two feet taller than herself. While she had previously ignored the specks in her vision, they now bloomed to catch her attention, listing off her equipment, while a voice that sounded more like what she had imagine for Damaia than her own voice mused over the few spells she could now cast with the focus in her hands.

“How did I miss that?” She muttered to herself in that new voice. She stood, habitually lashing her tail to help. Trying to settle into her new skin, now that she had her belongings, Damaia turned to the door once again.

She raised her hand and more confidently cast another firebolt.

[Fire Bolt: 24 to hit, 4 damage]

 

[MagicalSnow07]

Lia jumped back from the door when she heard the metallic clang, putting her hands to her ears to block the sound. She was shocked by how loud it actually was. 'Wait…' Her ears felt weird, they felt pointed in some way.. ‘What am I?’

Deep in the back of her thoughts, she had a weird feeling she wasn’t human anymore. Her mind didn't feel as foggy as when she first woke up, she could actually think now. 'No, this is wrong. My name is Ashley, I'm just a normal teenage girl in highschool.. What.. Who is Lia?'

"Hello? Someone out there? I can get you out!" She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a woman's voice. “I’m over here!! Help!” she yelled, hoping she heard Lia's plea. Lia ran back to the door and stuck her hand out, waving it. Even in the dim light of the torch she hoped someone could notice her and could come save her.

 

[WindCrystal]

Jen’s brow furrowed as she examined the lock, Investigating it for a good few seconds. 1 round. That meant nothing to her and she hated the knowledge of it. But alright so, old, yes, matches with the rest of the room. Her fingers rubbed off red rust flakes when they touched it, and slick jagged bits jabbed into her skin not enough to draw blood but enough to make her mentally recount the amount of time since her last tetanus shot. Jen knew exactly nothing about locks, and yet…

And yet looking at this one, here now, she could tell, nearly instinctively, that something as odd about it. She got in closer, peered into the big keyhole. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she could just tell, something inside wasn’t quite as she expected, something in the mechanism not—

Her eyes widened as the fact clicked into place. Woah, woah, this thing was unlocked? It hadn’t budged when she’d tried it before. She rose up and twisted the handle again, and sure enough, she could feel the faintest shifting below her palm. It was just stuck a bit, the combination of warp and rust acting as sealant, and when she applied a little more persistence and elbow grease it creaked open with a sound that would put a horror movie to shame. The air that drafted in wasn’t much fresher than the stuff she was already breathing, but it did something nice for her clammy skin regardless, and her heartrate slowed a pace. She could just… walk out. Freedom was that easy.

Jen didn’t like that one bit. She wasn’t exactly in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth, but she didn’t exactly need to pop its jaws and give a dental exam for her to smell something fishy on its breath. She was in a cell, that much was obvious. A cell is built for keeping people in. And yet, whoever or whatever had decided to plonk her down here hadn’t even taken the barest efforts to ensure that she stayed in here. Like a particularly shitty Motel 6, the door let her come and go as she pleased, by why? Three options: 1. The whoever/whatever that had brought her here was an idiot, 2. The whoever/whatever didn’t care if she got out, or—

3. Whoever/whatever had meant for her to escape. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she couldn’t tell. Given the poop bucket in the corner though she couldn’t possibly see how any of its plans for her involved good things.

Something pulled Jan’s attention outwards again, over her shoulder, to the straw in the corner. She honestly couldn’t say why—there was no sound to alert her, no change, and she had no interest in looking at putrifacted plant matter any longer than she had to. It was more like an urge, a whim, a prodding in her mind like a tap on the shoulder. She didn’t question it much, because there on the straw was a freaking rapier and that was kind of a big deal that she had to go check out. She hurried over—thank god there was a cloth over the straw, she was fairly certain she could see slimy mushrooms springing up in one corner and if she had to touch them she was never going to feel clean again—and lifted the blade to inspect it. It felt well-used, and her fingers fell into the groves worn into the handle snug as jigsaw pieces. She felt at her hip with her other hand and, yup, that was sheath for it hanging there. Just like she had designed for Premna. Her fingers felt damp, and they picked up a trembling again that made it near-impossible to sheath the weapon, but she managed it. There was a bag as well—a backpack, really, well-stocked and full of pockets. A peek under one flap and oh yeah, she’d packed this thing. Vicariously. With a few browser windows open, a scrap of paper, and an extended text session with the DM. Sweet holy dumpnuggets, she really was Premna.

The air had gone all suffocating again, and the scraps of statistics in the corner of her vision—near invisible if she wasn’t looking at them—had started to smear flecks of void-black and gold across her vision whenever she blinked. She needed to get out, now, right the hell now. She hitched up the bag, and threw open the door with a grating scream of hinges that made her ears ring.

She looked the hallways down left, right, and left again, like a kiddo crossing the road, and stepped out of her cell.

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

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"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair."

Fahalil (Alexander) Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions:

Mood: Confused and a little hurt.

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He takes a moment to rest his hands and get the feeling back into them before examining his staff. He focused and drew upon that well of power and felt the...'Cantrip' activate. He focused on the lock once more and twisted the staff as he attacked, striking the lock firmly. This time, he made sure not to hold the staff so tight. He watched as the door vibrated from the blow before something cracked and the door slowly swung open.

"Fuck Yeah!" he shouted before clapping his free hand over his mouth and poking his head out of the doorway to see if anyone had noticed him. When no one immediately arrived, he felt it was safe enough to leave the cell. He made sure he had everything he needed before stepping out an looking around. He was at some corner area, like a transition from one forward hallway to the next. To his left, a hallway led ahead with an equally similar hallway to his right. He scratched his head slightly before shrugging and picking a direction randomly.

He crouched down and did his best to move stealthily before poking his head around the corner and looking down the hallway. At first he didn't see anything, but after a moment, he spotted another cell at the very end of the hallway. After a moment, he spotted a woman coming out of it, looking quite kitted out. He frowned as he observed her. She looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place her appearance at the moment.

Then he realized something. She had also noticed him. His hiding hadn't been the best as he thought it'd been.

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[Seraph Darkfire]

[class=container] cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; position: relative; transform: scaleY(-1); position: relative; [/class] [class=cover] background-image: url(http://fantasy-faction.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/2016-JUN-Tabletop-the-Dungeon-Master-by-MoulinBleu-225x300.jpg); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: center; background-color: rgb(169,167,168); background-size: 350px 500px; bottom: 0; left: 0; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; transform: scaleY(-1); [/class] [class=content] height: 460px; transform: scaleY(-1); width: 100%; position: relative; [/class] [script class=content on=click] slideDown 800 cover [/script] [script class=cover on=click] slideUp 800 [/script] [div class=container] [div class=content]

"Keep in mind that I am the Dungeon Master and if you continue to annoy me, I may have to Destroy you."

Dungeon Master Seraph Darkfire Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions: IAmAlpharius bh18 MagicalSnow07 ArbitraryC W WindCrystal

Mood: Ready to Begin.

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Finrich/Glen
Glen's examination of the bars reveals that he could possibly squeeze through. The bars are just wide enough that a full grown man could stick his head through but not so much he could fit his body. As a Halfling, Glen's height and width are just enough that he can get through with some effort. In the distance, Glen suddenly hears someone with a highish voice yell "Fuck Yeah!"

Lia/Ashley
Now that Ashley is even closer to the door, she can see a bit better. Thanks to her night vision, everything is clear. From what she can tell, her cell is in a recess of the wall, meaning that there are walls to the left and right of her cell, with the hallway ahead of her moving past it.

Spoiler: Outside of Ashley's Cell

Damaia/Erin
This next attack does some real damage. Considering that it is an inanimate object Damaia is attacking, the attack is considered as a Critical Hit and doubles the damage. The bars of the door suddenly warp from the heat and spread open enough for her to easily climb out. The door isn't open but the way is clear.

Mourn/Casey
From Casey's current position at the center of the intersection, he can see a few things. To his right is another path with its own door on the right as well. Further down, he can see that the corridor turns sharply right. To his left he can see down the other corridor, however, the end is too far and it is impossible to see where it ends. Closer inspection reveals that about halfway down this path it branches off to the left. Straight ahead is about as empty as the other paths, however he can tell that it splits left and right.

Casey can suddenly hear a woman replying to them, the voice coming from the left path. However, no cell is visible.

Prenma/Jen
Stepping out of her cell, Prenma is bathed in the light of torches moving down the hallway. It is quiet and serene. Aside from the sound of the burning torches, there is nothing else to hear. As she moves further down the hallway, she'll see a simple wooden door to the left. Further down the hallway, she can just barely tells that it corners off to her left.

In the distance, Jen suddenly hears someone with a highish voice yell "Fuck Yeah!" and after a moment, suddenly notices a small white haired figure poke their head around the corner. It is too far to tell who or what it is, just the color of their hair, but their body language shows that they realized that she could see them too.

Spoiler: Prenma Hallway

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[bh18]

"Fuck Yeah!"

A noise; someone's voice! Another person to talk to, maybe get some answers about this dank, cold, stone jailhouse. But more importantly, it meant social activity!

Needless to say that Glen wasn't comfortable being all on his lonesome. Growing up with a large, ever-present family and a very constant circle of friends lead Glen to thrive more on socialization than isolation. Being shoved into a new place, with a new body and new head full of new things he never knew or could do before was really straining his calm. He felt a burning urge to talk to someone and even the slightest prospect of it being granted was incredibly uplifting!

Glen used his body's new, surprisingly advanced Dexterity to gently start working himself through the bars, and while occupied with that, called out to the voice.

"HELLO?! IS SOMEONE THERE?!" Okay hollered to high heaven was more accurate, but semantics.

Dexterity Check: 17 (Success)

He popped out the other side and cheered his own "Fuck Yeah!" in triumph, then listened intently for a response.

 

[WindCrystal]

((Lucky ducky me, as it turns out this post I wanted to make is little enough that I can totes do it on my phone))

Jen had just stepped into the middle of the hallway, turning a slow circle about to get a view of the whole of the hall, when the cry of profanity caught her ear. She turned just in time to catch a figure poke their head around the corner, and she stared at them, mind gone blank. So she wasn't alone here in this place. But who were they, good, bad? Jen didnt give heraelf much chance to decide, or even try to process them, because in less than a round she'd noped back out of the situation and taken shelter in her former prison, heart racing and breath heavy with fright. Now was not the place to try to form a game plan, but she didn't really have anywhere else to hide.

 

[ArbitraryC]

Mourn's head snapped towards the sound and she was off like a shot. No effort was made to hide the rustle and clatter of chainmail, though Mourn did slow to a cautious walk as she neared the first branch. Peeking around, she'd catch sight of a young elf woman up against the bars.

A tremor of vertigo overtook them, then Casey was at the fore again. He knew that face, or at the very least felt some tremor of familiarity when he looked at it. The divide between he and Mourn yawned wider. A little knot of ache formed between their eyes.

"Well met," Mourn said, taking command again, "Would you please stand back, miss? I'm afraid I have only a, how shall we say, old fashioned master key."

By way of explanation Mourn set aside the greatsword and drew out the warhammer that had also been hidden amongst the gear in the cot. Once the other woman was a clear distance back Mourn started hammering on the hinges from her side.

[Warhammer Attack: 11 to hit, 10 damage.
Strength check 12]

 

[MagicalSnow07]

'Lia' or Ashley as she now remembered her name, looked out the door around her cell. She could hear footsteps running towards her and then saw a strange woman, standing in front of her.

"Well met” the woman said out loud. ‘is she talking to herself?’ Ashley thought, but then again, she was doing the same thing just in her own head.
"Would you please stand back, miss? I'm afraid I have only a, how shall we say, old fashioned master key."

"Oh.. Okay" Ashley said meekly, taking a few steps back. Something about the way this woman talked and acted seemed familiar. ‘Hmm.. a Tiefling’ she heard, in her voice. Ashley looked around, where’d that voice come from… She didn’t say or think that…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the woman attacking the door, did she succeed?

 

[IAmAlpharius]

Erin had to grin at the small flit of power that left her, something she could tell Damaia was doing without a second thought, but to her it was amazing. She took a moment to think, before reasoning that if there had been guards watching, they would have taken notice the first time she cast Fire bolt. However, she couldn’t be perfectly certain. Damaia seemed to huff, reaching into the backpack behind them, and pulling out a small, leather bound book. Upon opening it, Erin saw that the pages were made of very nice, durable and smooth paper. Cleanly inked lines had been made into circles and diagrams, and though Erin struggled to make any sense of it, Damaia had been the one to ink them, and she knew them well.
Within a couple moments, Erin thought she understood at least the simplest ones, and readied herself. She stepped through the ruined door and took a good look at the area around her.
[Perception check 10]

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

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"Keep in mind that I am the Dungeon Master and if you continue to annoy me, I may have to Destroy you."

Dungeon Master Seraph Darkfire Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions: IAmAlpharius bh18 MagicalSnow07 ArbitraryC W WindCrystal

Mood: Ready to Begin.

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Finrich/Glen
Glen unfortunately receives no response to his shout. However, he is now out of his cell and can get a better view of where he is. There are two long hallways for Glen to take, either the one to his left or the one straight ahead of him.

Spoiler: Glen Hallway

Lia/Ashley
Appearing in front of Lia is, in fact, a Tiefling decked out in Chain Mail. She does succeed in breaking down the door. However, she was a bit too enthusiastic, causing the door to spin off of its hinges and shoot towards Lia, resulting in her needing to dodge away from the door, fortunately, she does this quite well.

Damaia/Erin
Damaia finds herself standing in single hallway with no doors or openings other than at the end, which veers off to the left. What really catches her eye is the large crack in the upper right corner of the room, cutting off a lot of the floor. It is enough to get by though.

Spoiler: Damaia Hallway

View attachment 426806

Mourn/Casey
Impressively swinging her Warhammer, Mourn strikes the door's hinges quite well. Unfortunately, there was more to this attack than she expected, causing it to hit the door so well that it swings inward and snaps off it's hinges, sending it hurtling towards the girl she was intending to help.

Prenma/Jen
In her fright and haste to hide, Prenma made a mistake. She successfully hid...at least in her mind. However, from the view outside of the cell, she seems to be hiding the wrong way around, with her entire body sticking out in the middle of the doorway.

Spoiler: Prenma Hiding

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[Seraph Darkfire]

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"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair."

Fahalil (Alexander) Location: Dungeon of the Final Keep

Mentions:

Mood: Confused and a little hurt.

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The person definitely noticed him, however the way she tried to hide was a bit strange...in the fact that she wasn't hiding at all. She was standing there attempting to hide. However, the weird way she attempted to hide made him feel a bit more at ease. She clearly was afraid of him as much as he was her. So he felt more confident about walking towards the cell "Er...hello?" he asked before he took a closer look at the woman. He frowned as confusion filled his mind "Holy shit! You are Prenma! Jen's Half-Elf Character!" he laughed softly "How the hel-l..." he paused and looked at his hands.

"I-I'm Fahalil" he mumbled as he ran his hand through his hair, feeling the soft white hair "Of course I am...then that means.." he looked back at Prenma "Jen?" he couldn't really believe it but if he was his character, then obviously this Prenma was most likely his friend Jen. Normally, he probably would have been more worried about it but...something gave him the feeling that 'This is how it is'

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[bh18]

Not knowing where to go, and receiving no response to his holler, Glen elected to set off down the straight path, as opposed to the left turn. Just in case, he called out one more time.

"Hello! Anyone there?!"

Don't shout, it attracts unwanted attention.

Glen froze, looking around carefully but finding nothing nearby.

Was that... in his head?

Paranoia, born from his own isolation induced fear and something in the jumble of new memories coming to the front, Glen Stealths his way down the hall, listening for anything.

Stealth: 26

Perception: 11

 

[MagicalSnow07]

Ashley heard the loud bang of the Tiefling’s attack ‘she got it’ was a quick thought before she saw the door flying in her direction.

“Oh shit!” [Acrobatics Check: 16] Her body moved without even thinking, Lia quickly ducked and rolled over to the left of the room, leaving the door to clang against the brick wall at the back of the cell.

Ashley just sat there on the floor in awe, looking at the broken door and back to the woman in the doorway “How… How did I do that?” she’d never reacted that fast in her life, not even at cheerleading practice.