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Thread: IC Thread 1: Stone to Flesh, or Waking Up in the Future

  1. #21
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    "Will you leave so soon?" Beren asks Roun as she sees him heading towards the door. "With no way of understanding the strange language that passes for Comune in this time? Of course you may do what best pleases you, but it does not seem a wise decision to go away yet. Surely we could ask these kind clergyfolk to assist you in securing for you a translator first."

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    Coul isn't quite surprised that there is no response about further statue-ified people, something about being small enough to be beneath eye level makes one hard to notice, and the Masters were too smart to get caught by a cucka... co... Chicken, anyways. So they're probably about roaming the countryside; They would probably be mad that he hadn't returned with the money yet...

    "The gold..."

    His burnt yellow eyes widen suddenly in panic as he begins to pat himself down feverishly, then proceeding to throw the covers off the bed in search of... something. "Where is the bag? Where is the master's gold!? Grinner will be in so much trouble if he loses the gold! They won't be happy, no no..." He begins looking around with a pitiably frenzied expression, "Did the chicken get the gold? Then Grinner need to kill the chicken!" he pauses before slowly, and dramatically (its unclear whether the drama is intentional or subconscious) looks down to its left claw, "Climbing Axe is gone too! How can kill chicken without axe!?" his eyes dart about looking at the waists of all the tall ones about him, noting the distinct lack of weapons that he could pilfer. "No gold, no weapon... Is like a joke about a monk..." he says nervously, as he pulls his tail in close and begins nibbling at the end of it.
    Last edited by Zeros; 08-28-2020 at 12:20 AM.


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    With a sniffle and a hiccup, Iayabrin slightly giggles at the comment she overhears about a joke about a monk. It takes her a couple of coughs before she feels like she can speak without bursting into sobs, but once she does she peeks out from her knees to find the source of the words, only to be surprised to find a little black kobold. She hadn't noticed it for the blankets earlier. But it's speech was familiar to her, meaning it must come from roughly the same age as herself. "Do not worry yourself," Iayabrin's voice manages to crack anyway. "Unless your master is immortal he is long deceased. Even if, by chance, your master is immortal, it has been so long that he has forgotten that you ever existed. The gold is your own now. They said everything they found that survived the eons we were petrified is being held for us in another room." Iayabrin turns to the plant person and asks in sylvan, "Were you able to understand any of what was said?"
    Every sweet has it's sour: Every evil it's good ~Emerson
    Honor the TRICKSTER For you would make a good squeaky toy
    I create worlds as a hobby. Does that make me a goddess?

  4. #24
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    Roun stops half way to the door. "How am I supposed to get my things if they don't understand when I ask for them? Would it be rude to just punch them until they give it back?" He stands there seemly lost in an internal debate about the proper way to communicate with people who can't understand you.
    "Behold I have become Death, Destroyer of worlds."
    Quote Originally Posted by D&D Basic Rules, Altered by me
    Disclaimer: [Your DM, TTW and] Wizards of the Coast [are] not responsible for the consequences of splitting up the party, opening hidden coffins, shaking up or mixing unfinished alchemical potions, throwing a stick past a werewolf and yelling "Fetch!", angering a dragon of any variety, or saying yes when the DM asks, “Are you really sure?”

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    Coul cocks his head at Iayabrin when he first hears the little giggle, and when she tries to explain their predicament he blinks several times, still tightly holding his tail, "... Masters.... Are fine, killed great dragon Venim, not die to Eons, silly," he says this as if it should be obvious, although its not clear he fully understands the gravity of the amount of time that has passed. Hearing that his things may be recovered but just in another room seems to calm him somewhat, although he wouldn't fully calm down until he saw the things himself.

    Suddenly unsure of what to do with himself while waiting for them to explain how he can get his things back he stands up on the bed (oddly unsteady due to the years of petrification) to get closer to eye level, "But good story about Venim! One day an elven cleric stumbled into Venim's cave, Grinner was there, saw whole thing! He accidentally bumped into Venim while sleeping, and Venim, that great big black dragon him rose up to his full height. Cleric is so scared it drops to its knees and prays to its god. To my surprise Venim drop to his knees in prayer too!"

    "The Elf thought it was saved and says 'Praise be to the gods!' to which Venim chuckled, 'No, you don't understand, I'm thanking Tiamat for the meal.'
    " He ends this with an accentuated open mouth that almost seems to unhinge slightly, but has the comical effect of a massive grin. However, telling the joke seems to have relaxed the little kobold.


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    Rose shuffles her vines in what appears to be a shrug in response to copper colored lady, "Language...changes with...time. Will need...time...to acclimate...to changes," she replies in Sylvan.
    Rising from her bed Rose offers a viney hand to the copper lady to help her out of bed, and beckons the goblin "We should...follow the...others," she says in Common, as her leaves making a bright smile.

  7. #27
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    Quote Originally Posted by SoberIrishman View Post
    Roun stops half way to the door. "How am I supposed to get my things if they don't understand when I ask for them? Would it be rude to just punch them until they give it back?" He stands there seemly lost in an internal debate about the proper way to communicate with people who can't understand you.
    "It would certainly not improve your reputation among civilized people." Beren strides forward and stands by Roun's side. "Here; we shall ask this esteemed person to accompany us to this... 'Front Desk'."

    She waves over to the person she'd been asking about genealogy papers before the interruption.

    "I will tell them, in Elven, that we wish to retrieve our belongings. They will tell the Custodians of the Desk, in this time's tonge, that we with to retrieve our belongings. If you have any other requests or pleasantries to communicate, or if the Custodians have anything to relate to you, we will translate them for you using the same process. It seems the most reasonable solution for the moment, does it not?"

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    Iayabrin blinks in surprise at the Kobold. "Oh my! That must have been quite an experience." What had she just gotten herself into by talking to it?

    "You are probably right," Iayabrin replies to the plant person's words and accept's it's.... hand? As soon as she gets untangled from the sheets, her feet on the floor, and her body standing upright, however, she ends up right back on her bottom on the bed. It seems she had tried to move faster than her body was ready for. "It seems my legs are not accustomed to being used anymore. A little slower this time, I think." This time, keeping a hand on the bed for extra help keeping steady, Iayabrin manages to stand.
    Every sweet has it's sour: Every evil it's good ~Emerson
    Honor the TRICKSTER For you would make a good squeaky toy
    I create worlds as a hobby. Does that make me a goddess?

  9. #29
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    The kobold holds his expression for a few more moments before deflating somewhat, muttering to himself, "Tough crowd..." but hops off the bed as beckoned walking behind the plant-like Rose, "But, if Grinner understands all the strange talkers we going to get things? We should do this, Grinner needs to get his stuff," he pulls at the basic tunic, "Is breathy but is not Grinner's colors."


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    "No, you must jest! They split the finale into two different plays? And then introduced a new vital character in an entirely different play between both? That ridiculous." Onik laughed and chatted away with the clergy in common before noticing a bit of a shift in the mood of the room. Natural groupings and a translation daisy chain of sorts bloomed between the restored. Ironically enough they found a common language without speaking a word of common that he could understand anyway... Right?

    It was strange, some of the talk was clearly elven which he understood well enough. And then a entirely different language that he didn't recognize, and maybe a third which every maybe fifth word sounded... Familiar. And then there were times he could have sworn he understood a word here and there. Old common he surmised and then got an idea.

    He strolled out of the room to go find his glaive, return with it and try to paint in old fashion common to see if it translates.

  11. #31
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    Roun laughs when Beren mentions reputation, then calms slightly when he notices the others forming up behind them. "Aye, sounds like you've got a winner of a paws-posal. I'll follow along, until my debts repaid or I find something better ta do." He cracks an overly large smile that seems slightly unhinged. He claps Beren on the shoulder, gently for him at least. "Let's get this moving. It's time fur some fun!"
    "Behold I have become Death, Destroyer of worlds."
    Quote Originally Posted by D&D Basic Rules, Altered by me
    Disclaimer: [Your DM, TTW and] Wizards of the Coast [are] not responsible for the consequences of splitting up the party, opening hidden coffins, shaking up or mixing unfinished alchemical potions, throwing a stick past a werewolf and yelling "Fetch!", angering a dragon of any variety, or saying yes when the DM asks, “Are you really sure?”

  12. #32
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    Beren returns the shoulder clap with equal force and almost smiles.

    "Fun indeed," she says. "I'll certainly enjoy being reunited with my own clothing, at least. And Fleetfeet. The most majestic steed in the world, to be sure. I hope petrification wasn't too taxing on his nerves. And... yes, a debt. How uncouth of me not to think of it. We do owe these kind folk a debt for rescuing us, don't we? I shall have to repay them before I continue my own quest."

    She heads back over to to the cleric she'd been talking to before.

    "I apologize for the earlier interruption. Would you be so kind as to lead us all into the Front Desk to retrieve our belongings, and then to somebody who will tell us how we can pay our life-debt?"

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    Since Elven seems to be working the best to communicate in, the clerics show you the way to the desk. They speak briefly and sacks are given to each of you. Shockingly little of what you had seems to have survived. Any coin or jewlery is okay, as is any magical gear or weaponry, the enchantemnt preventing it from rusting or decaying. Any mundane clothing or armor is gone.

    When a debt is brought up, one of the clerics hastily explains that they need no payment. It is the will of Sheara that they spread healing and compassion. If you wish to show gratitude, you may make a donation





  14. #34
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    "There's nothing in here but my ring and some coin.... Impawsible. What am I supposed to wear?" Roun slips his ring back on as he complains, then looks like he's trying to figure out how to carry all the coin without a belt or bag.
    "Behold I have become Death, Destroyer of worlds."
    Quote Originally Posted by D&D Basic Rules, Altered by me
    Disclaimer: [Your DM, TTW and] Wizards of the Coast [are] not responsible for the consequences of splitting up the party, opening hidden coffins, shaking up or mixing unfinished alchemical potions, throwing a stick past a werewolf and yelling "Fetch!", angering a dragon of any variety, or saying yes when the DM asks, “Are you really sure?”

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    Any Spellbooks would have also survived.

    Pouches are provided for you to claim your gold.

    Upon communicating your need for clothing, You are taken into a side room. Inside, clothes are hanging on racks and folded neatly on shelves, or in cabinets, both outer and inner wear.

    One of the priests explains that these clothes are donations for the poor and needy, and that you can feel free to claim whatever you need.





  16. #36
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    Beren collects her money pouch and her marble chess set with stoic acceptance.

    "I shall rebuild my fortune with this as capital," she says. "And purchase myself many fine new things."

    In the room of clothing, she peruses the clothing carefully, picking out articles here and there. Once she has a nice little stack of clothing she constructs herself a changing screen out of hung up cloaks and disappears behind it.

    When she emerges she is wearing a faded green tunic and trousers covered by a large brown shawl. She has tied two belts to the sack that's carrying her chess board, turning it into an improvised backpack that cinches her shawl awkwardly around the shoulders.

    "The fashion of today is unusual," she announces in her Common. "However, I do appreciate the built in pouches in these trousers. They will be convenient. Who would like to use the changing area next?"
    Last edited by RealWittyAlias; 08-31-2020 at 05:32 PM.

  17. #37
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    Coul goes to collect his things, a nervous quickness to his step until he's able to get his claws on the gold pieces and makes a quick approximation of the weight. After that he looks for his other tools; climbing kit, thieves tools, backpacking supplies, weapons, armor, and his 'best hits' joke book... But only ends up walking away with the gold and the mithral buckler that had been too small for his master's to use from Venim's hoard.

    He doesn't wait his turn for any changing facilities, but finds some simple, dark gnome clothing that he has to tear a hole in the rear for his tail. Despite them being for a gnome, they are still fairly baggy on the kobold. After trading out his clothing he straps on the buckler.

    After this he walks up to the translating attending, grabbing their sleeve and tugging insistently, "Grinner needs tools and weapons, where can Grinner find them?" Roads aren't safe for unarmed kobolds, and without his tools he would struggle to do much beyond tell jokes... and without a handle on this place's common, the jokes would be difficult.


  18. #38
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    Round finds the closest bit of clothing to the well-worn kilt he had lost, a patterned skirt just big enough to fit around his waist. Shrugging he sheds the pants from beneath the kilt-stand-in. He also grabs a toga that once belonged to a larger sized man. This he rigs up as a sling across his chest. Into this sling he puts his coin pouch. "This'll bear use as a blanket fur sleeping ina pinch. Real koala-ity finds."
    "Behold I have become Death, Destroyer of worlds."
    Quote Originally Posted by D&D Basic Rules, Altered by me
    Disclaimer: [Your DM, TTW and] Wizards of the Coast [are] not responsible for the consequences of splitting up the party, opening hidden coffins, shaking up or mixing unfinished alchemical potions, throwing a stick past a werewolf and yelling "Fetch!", angering a dragon of any variety, or saying yes when the DM asks, “Are you really sure?”

  19. #39
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    Iayabrin looks at her bag of coins. A hefty bag, to be sure, if not as much wealth as she'd originally had, but to be the only thing to have survived time and possibly the occasional looter who survived the cockatrice, well, that was disheartening. At least it was probably a good enough sum to get going with. Except, what would the money situation nowadays be like? Only time would tell, she supposed.

    In the room of clothing, Iayabrin sighed silently to herself. Truly, poor and needy was a good descriptor for both herself and the options available. She couldn't even immediately figure out what sort of clothing some of these things were supposed to be. How does one even wear..... Whatever. Ignore that thing. After scouring the options, Iayabrin managed a single outfit of faded yellows, oranges and reds, and one thing in dark grey that was probably once black, layered into some semblance of a caster's robes. Hodgepodge and lopsided, but she liked lopsided and hodgepodge. Eclectic, yes. She just silently mourned her inability to find anything in the deepest blue of a midnight sky. Not surprising, though, dyes like that were difficult and had to be bought fresh and spelled to keep from fading fast. This would do, though.

    Iayabrin looks over Beren critically. She tugs on a bit of fabric, adjusting how it lays, and then nods, "It does not look bad. The colors suit you."


    (OOC: Her hair is too long in this, but that's what happens with a maker, you get what options are there)
    Last edited by Tsatsayka; 08-30-2020 at 09:43 PM. Reason: Horrible name typo and image
    Every sweet has it's sour: Every evil it's good ~Emerson
    Honor the TRICKSTER For you would make a good squeaky toy
    I create worlds as a hobby. Does that make me a goddess?

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    Rose's face fluttered in what looked like a semblance of sadness, or maybe it was irritation that almost none of her armor had survived the ages.

    Her cloak had, so she threw it onto herself, clipped it closed and waited quietly for others to find clothing they might want or need, seeing as her body was made of vines and was only modeled in semblance to humanoids she had no reproductive parts to be ashamed of, she did not want to deprive others of clothing to cover themselves.

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