Howdy, Stranger!
Categories
- 4.8K All Categories
- 4.3K Life in Lusternia
- 465 Announce Posts
- 75 Event Posts
- 1.7K Common Grounds
- 589 Q&A
- 83 Combat Overhaul
- 1.5K World Library
- 86 Combat Logs
- 870 Event Scrolls
- 403 Mechanic's Corner
- 329 Ideas
- 314 Last Chance Trading Post
- 478 Life Outside of Lusternia
- 9 Forum News
- 275 The Real World
- 94 Meet and Greet
- 37 The Funnies
- 63 Mafia Hideout
In this Discussion
Wyrdling Indigestion
The ground beneath the Glomdoring Forest rumbles and shakes, following the low growling of an
enormous creature, emanating from the underground tunnels.
(Glomdoring): Moi (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "Did anyone else notice that just now?"
(Glomdoring): Liray (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "I did. What was it?"
(Glomdoring): Moi (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "...the Wyrdling is missing."
(Glomdoring): Aetakyla (from the Ethereal Plane) says, "I didn't notice anything on Ethereal
Glomdoring at all."
(Glomdoring): Rancoura (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "The sound emanated from the tunnels
beneath the forest."
(Glomdoring): Moi says, "Check your guildhalls, if you would."
(Glomdoring): You say, "Nothing odd within the maze."
(Glomdoring): Enadonella says, "Is there something that attracts the Wyrdling? Could I perhaps hunt
down something that might lure him back?"
(Glomdoring): Liray says, "Slimes maybe?"
(Glomdoring): Enadonella says, "Excellent idea."
Lair of the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. Hidden deep within the environment
lies a mystic pathway. There are 10 shadowlord widowriders here. There are 10 illithoid scourges
here. There are 10 dark nighthags here. The scent of death radiates from a mangled corpse impaled
here upon a sharpened pole. A fluffy husky puppy sniffs anything that isn't moving here. Fox-like
face set with a wide, doggy grin, an ivory-furred pompom puppy with a fanned tail prances here. A
tiny pug puppy, cute despite her flat black snout, sniffs around here. With an animated mien, a
fluffy purple llama with shiny feathered wings stands guard here. Gutted and finally still, a
slithering ooze lies dead. A giant bat hangs here, wings folded about its body and one beady eye
open. Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel stands here, an unnatural silence clinging to
her like a shroud. She wields the graceful black-crystal athame of the Silent Umbra in her left hand.
Enadonella with an Unknown face is here, shrouded. She wields a golden whip of the pious in her left
hand and a rusted viola in her right. She is bearing a resplendent flag of the standard bearer. A
massive spider skitters here, spinning her web. Nascent Liray, Attendant to the Wyrd is here. He
wields a steel claymore with both hands.
You see a single exit leading east.
The ground rumbles again, right beneath your feet, as if something enormous were moving below the
surface.
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "Ah. He has indeed burrowed further beneath, it would seem."
(Glomdoring): Moi (from the Realm of the Predator) says, "The Wyrdling's been found?"
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "No, but his movements are audible."
Enadonella whispers, "Can anyone else burrow?"
Enadonella pauses for a second, a slight frown upon her face.
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "And sensed in vibrations, I might add."
Furiosa Salome Nightshade, the Sublime Aphotia says, "The ground is too hard for any demidivine to
burrow."
Enadonella creases her brow in a frown.
A slender brow raised as she continues examining the slime-covered pit, Lady Haruspex Rancoura
So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers, "We might await a sign as to the direction of his movements.
Perhaps there is something towards which he burrows."
Salome stomps a foot experimentally, as if awaiting some sort of response. A bit of ooze rises and
splatters with the force of her bare foot.
The ground rumbles again, right beneath your feet, as if something enormous were moving below the
surface. The vibrations grow stronger, as if whatever it is happens to be getting closer.
Enadonella whispers, "Shield."
Spreading her arms wide, Moi spins clockwise and a shimmering white orb springs up around her.
Salome spins the blade of her athame, the slow 'shwick' sound slithering against the flat of her
palm.
Spreading his arms wide, Liray spins clockwise and a shimmering white orb springs up around him.
You crouch low and release a raucous, terrifying cry that echoes through the air about you, the
shadows about you whispering names of power and binding. A terrible mauve light twists across the
ground and you become one with the land.
Dipping her hand into a shadow cauldron, Salome pulls out a long shadow and releases it into the air
. The room darkens with the churning darkness.
You twirl your cudgel before you, bringing forth an emerald shield that surrounds you.
Cracks appear in the ground of the tunnel, and you hear a roaring sound echoing from just beneath
your feet.
Enadonella watches Salome with concern, stepping closer in an effort to offer some for of protection
to Salome she grunts with warning.
Rancoura drifts a few steps backward, away from the emerging crevices, though her gaze remains
affixed to the area with sharp attention.
Salome lifts a silver brow as a little, knowing smirk plays across her lips with a gleam of her
black beetle eyes. She dips her head to Enadonella as the shadows about her sway with curious
tendrils, cloying with flecks of shadowflame.
The ground splits wide, revealing the gaping maw of the spiked wyrdling. It tears through the hole
made by its mouth, heaving its enormous bulk with it.
The enormous body of the Ebonglom Wyrdling is as thick as the trunk of the largest oak tree. Its
length is impossible to determine as it coils over and over upon itself. The skin of the Ebonglom
Wyrdling is as black as pitch and glistens with oil and slime, and where rents in its hide have been
torn, black stone grows, becoming spikes that jut out from it in vicious angles. The body itself
pulsates and twists on the floor, and the head is enormous, with black faceted eyes and a gaping maw
that reveals dozens of rows of wickedly curved teeth that are as long as a great sword. The stench
of stagnant waters wafts from the bloated body.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling does not even register your presence as a threat.
Lair of the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The shadows have been gathered here. The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here
. Hidden deep within the environment lies a mystic pathway. There are 10 shadowlord widowriders here.
There are 10 illithoid scourges here. There are 10 dark nighthags here. The scent of death radiates
from a mangled corpse impaled here upon a sharpened pole. Covered in bone armour, a giant bat hangs
here, wings folded about its body and one beady eye open. A dusty charcoal grimalkin sits here
quietly, gazing over the space with her pale, empty eyes, the twitchy movement reflected in her
greasy tail. Crouched and ready to pounce, a moss-covered, dim-witted lioness with a golden radiant
tail waits here. Spikes jutting forth from its skin, the massive bulk of the Ebonglom Wyrdling
pulsates on the floor. Enadonella with an Unknown face is here, shrouded. She wields a golden whip
of the pious in her left hand and a rusted viola in her right. She is bearing a resplendent flag of
the standard bearer. Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel stands here, an unnatural
silence clinging to her like a shroud. She wields the graceful black-crystal athame of the Silent
Umbra in her left hand. Moi Ysav'rai is here, shrouded. She wields a black steel nekai in each hand.
Nascent Liray, Attendant to the Wyrd is here. He wields a steel claymore with both hands.
You see a single exit leading east.
You see the following people here:
Enadonella, Rancoura, Liray, Moi, Snag.
It opens its gaping maw again and swallows the statue of Mother Night deep within its gullet. With a
final swallowing sound, you see the upturned hand of Mother Night disappear from sight.
Growling slightly, the Ebonglom Wyrdling settles against the ground once more, its eyes watching the
gathering carefully.
Moi Ysav'rai whispers to Enadonella, "Where did he even get that statue?"
You have emoted: Snag peers at the a plush doll of the Ebonglom Wyrdling, cudgel held at the ready.
Her colourless eyes adjusting, voice both flat and velvet, Furiosa Salome Nightshade, the Sublime
Aphotia says, "The statue...It is from the Coven."
Salome glances askance at Rancoura.
Avoiding the massive girth of the Wyrdling, Rancoura rises a few inches off the ground, her shadow
-mist, phantasmal wings flared and sending roiling tendrils of shadow out with each sweep. Her gaze
hardens as she stares at the now-settled Wyrdling, a flare of shadowfire flickering out from her
form to brush against the Wyrdling's snout.
Rancoura nods slightly to Salome. "From the very depths of the Halls of the Conquering Darkness,"
she whispers coolly.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling snuffles briefly, barely registering the shadowfire.
(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Let's just pretend I didn't emote at my wyrdling doll, and remove
that from any posted logs. Thanks for your cooperation."
(The Shadow Kindred): Salome says, "Yep."
Frowning at the Ebonglom Wyrdling, Moi Ysav'rai says, "...Did you eat the old guildhalls?"
A dark weight upon her words, Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers to the
Ebonglom Wyrdling, "If you are hungry, great creature, you need only tell us. The artifacts of the
guilds-of-old are not for your consumption."
A dark weight upon her words, Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers to the
Ebonglom Wyrdling, "If you are hungry, great creature, you need only tell us. The artifacts of the
guilds-of-old are not for your consumption."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling inhales sharply and then a sound like a guttural sneeze rips from its throat,
showering Rancoura in mucous.
A moss-covered furred lioness with a golden radiant tail cleans herself by licking her paws and
rubbing them onto her face.
Rancoura stares coldly at the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of her body
, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of Salome's
body, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of your
body, removing the dirt and grime covering you.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of
Enadonella's body, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of Moi's
body, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Moi chokes back a laugh at Rancoura's expense, covering her mouth with one hand.
(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Whoever wrote this: Thank you. Getting home from a long day of work
to this has made my whole month."
(The Shadow Kindred): Enadonella says, "I am also dying."
Rancoura raises an eyebrow at Moi.
Salome makes her way slowly to the great, Wyrdling beast, posture unafraid as she stares into the
depths of his eyes. Side-stepping the shower of mucous, with a brief wrinkling of her pert nose.
Moi Ysav'rai says to Rancoura, "...something in my through. Yes. Ahem."
(The Shadow Kindred): Moi says, "...thorat."
(The Shadow Kindred): Moi says, "..."
You have emoted: Snag nods his maw sagely.
(The Shadow Kindred): Moi says, "I give up."
Coolly, Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers to Moi, "In your through. Indeed."
(The Shadow Kindred): Salome says, "EHEHhhhh this is a great event."
(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Moi is coughing up a hairball."
Enadonella's footsteps crunch the ground beneath in warning as she shadows Salome, watching Moi and
Rancoura's exchange she is somewhat distracted and almost slams into Salome, her body off balance as
she attempts to stand firm once more.
You have emoted: Snag lowers his maw, eyes never leaving the Ebonglom Wyrdling as he whispers "So,
uh, I guess recovering anything from the ruins is now out of the question."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling lifts its head at this and turns its massive bulk to better see you.
Easily eluding her manuever, Salome holds up a palm as she rises on her own darkling wings, as she
extends it before the Wyrdling. Burned within the skin lies the Mark of Darkness manifesting from
deep shadows that pulse underneath her skin - showing the beast her connection with the statue that
he had just so conveniently devoured. "Why were you in the ruins?" She addresses the beast directly,
after your remark.
You have emoted: Snag slithers back, forked tongue flicking out nervously.
Moi Ysav'rai says to you, "Well. Theoretically he might let us into the Ebonguard guildhall? But
that seems... doubtful."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling turns to face Rancoura, its eyes focusing.
Rancoura's head turns swiftly to the Wyrdling, a sense of deep concentration upon her countenance
now.
Enadonella watches Salome approach the Ebonglom Wyrdling and growls lowly, almost inaudibly, as he
approaches Rancoura, "Steady on."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling says, "RANCOURA IS THIS SO? DO THESE BLADES SO MARK YOU?"
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Rancoura's lips.
Of course the wyrdling said nothing aloud. How could it?
Rancoura's head bows slightly as she replies, "They do, Wyrdling." Her hollow whisper echoes through
the tunnel. "They are earned through great trials and lessons, great services performed in defense
of the Heart of Darkness, with the spreading of its glory and influence in mind."
Her hands clasped, Rancoura delicately brushes the edge of her Fingerblade with one tip, considering
the Wyrdling inquisitively.
Rancoura draws a slow breath, eyes briefly closing. When they open once more, their lazuline has
shifted to violet, the darkflames within riotous. "We would salvage them if it is at all possible,
Wyrdling," she whispers quietly. The presence of Mother Night was palpable within those Halls, and
we value all that bears Her touch."
Rancoura draws a slow breath, eyes briefly closing. When they open once more, their lazuline has
shifted to violet, the darkflames within riotous. "We would salvage them if it is at all possible,
Wyrdling," she whispers quietly. "The presence of Mother Night was palpable within those Halls, and
we value all that bears Her touch."
Shadows swirl around Moi's arm as the Fingerblade of dha'Wyrden-cree shifts and turns around her
hand.
Lifting its head higher, its eyes focusing, the Ebonglom Wyrdling pauses, as if to consider
something. It moves its massive head up and down, then lowers it once more to the ground.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling tilts its head to Rancoura, a gesture like bowing, and then waits.
Rancoura purses her lips, deep in thought.
Rancoura bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Rancoura into its mouth.
Enadonella gives a horrified gasp.
You blink.
Salome bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Salome into its mouth.
Enadonella bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
Moi bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Moi into its mouth.
Yendor bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Yendor into its mouth.
You bow respectfully to a plush doll of the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "The Wyrdling has allowed us access to its interior, once used as the
Ebonguard as their halls."
(Glomdoring): Athree says, "Ah. That is a nice place to be in. Can anyone get in?"
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "So it would seem. You need only bow to it."
(Glomdoring): You say, "If you have the fingerblade."
(Glomdoring): You say, "Those who do not must teleport in."
And thus the treasures of the old guildhalls were saved, a secret clubhouse for those who completed the Epic quest was found, and Snag learned the importance of using denizen identifiers.
enormous creature, emanating from the underground tunnels.
(Glomdoring): Moi (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "Did anyone else notice that just now?"
(Glomdoring): Liray (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "I did. What was it?"
(Glomdoring): Moi (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "...the Wyrdling is missing."
(Glomdoring): Aetakyla (from the Ethereal Plane) says, "I didn't notice anything on Ethereal
Glomdoring at all."
(Glomdoring): Rancoura (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "The sound emanated from the tunnels
beneath the forest."
(Glomdoring): Moi says, "Check your guildhalls, if you would."
(Glomdoring): You say, "Nothing odd within the maze."
(Glomdoring): Enadonella says, "Is there something that attracts the Wyrdling? Could I perhaps hunt
down something that might lure him back?"
(Glomdoring): Liray says, "Slimes maybe?"
(Glomdoring): Enadonella says, "Excellent idea."
Lair of the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here. Hidden deep within the environment
lies a mystic pathway. There are 10 shadowlord widowriders here. There are 10 illithoid scourges
here. There are 10 dark nighthags here. The scent of death radiates from a mangled corpse impaled
here upon a sharpened pole. A fluffy husky puppy sniffs anything that isn't moving here. Fox-like
face set with a wide, doggy grin, an ivory-furred pompom puppy with a fanned tail prances here. A
tiny pug puppy, cute despite her flat black snout, sniffs around here. With an animated mien, a
fluffy purple llama with shiny feathered wings stands guard here. Gutted and finally still, a
slithering ooze lies dead. A giant bat hangs here, wings folded about its body and one beady eye
open. Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel stands here, an unnatural silence clinging to
her like a shroud. She wields the graceful black-crystal athame of the Silent Umbra in her left hand.
Enadonella with an Unknown face is here, shrouded. She wields a golden whip of the pious in her left
hand and a rusted viola in her right. She is bearing a resplendent flag of the standard bearer. A
massive spider skitters here, spinning her web. Nascent Liray, Attendant to the Wyrd is here. He
wields a steel claymore with both hands.
You see a single exit leading east.
The ground rumbles again, right beneath your feet, as if something enormous were moving below the
surface.
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "Ah. He has indeed burrowed further beneath, it would seem."
(Glomdoring): Moi (from the Realm of the Predator) says, "The Wyrdling's been found?"
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "No, but his movements are audible."
Enadonella whispers, "Can anyone else burrow?"
Enadonella pauses for a second, a slight frown upon her face.
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "And sensed in vibrations, I might add."
Furiosa Salome Nightshade, the Sublime Aphotia says, "The ground is too hard for any demidivine to
burrow."
Enadonella creases her brow in a frown.
A slender brow raised as she continues examining the slime-covered pit, Lady Haruspex Rancoura
So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers, "We might await a sign as to the direction of his movements.
Perhaps there is something towards which he burrows."
Salome stomps a foot experimentally, as if awaiting some sort of response. A bit of ooze rises and
splatters with the force of her bare foot.
The ground rumbles again, right beneath your feet, as if something enormous were moving below the
surface. The vibrations grow stronger, as if whatever it is happens to be getting closer.
Enadonella whispers, "Shield."
Spreading her arms wide, Moi spins clockwise and a shimmering white orb springs up around her.
Salome spins the blade of her athame, the slow 'shwick' sound slithering against the flat of her
palm.
Spreading his arms wide, Liray spins clockwise and a shimmering white orb springs up around him.
You crouch low and release a raucous, terrifying cry that echoes through the air about you, the
shadows about you whispering names of power and binding. A terrible mauve light twists across the
ground and you become one with the land.
Dipping her hand into a shadow cauldron, Salome pulls out a long shadow and releases it into the air
. The room darkens with the churning darkness.
You twirl your cudgel before you, bringing forth an emerald shield that surrounds you.
Cracks appear in the ground of the tunnel, and you hear a roaring sound echoing from just beneath
your feet.
Enadonella watches Salome with concern, stepping closer in an effort to offer some for of protection
to Salome she grunts with warning.
Rancoura drifts a few steps backward, away from the emerging crevices, though her gaze remains
affixed to the area with sharp attention.
Salome lifts a silver brow as a little, knowing smirk plays across her lips with a gleam of her
black beetle eyes. She dips her head to Enadonella as the shadows about her sway with curious
tendrils, cloying with flecks of shadowflame.
The ground splits wide, revealing the gaping maw of the spiked wyrdling. It tears through the hole
made by its mouth, heaving its enormous bulk with it.
The enormous body of the Ebonglom Wyrdling is as thick as the trunk of the largest oak tree. Its
length is impossible to determine as it coils over and over upon itself. The skin of the Ebonglom
Wyrdling is as black as pitch and glistens with oil and slime, and where rents in its hide have been
torn, black stone grows, becoming spikes that jut out from it in vicious angles. The body itself
pulsates and twists on the floor, and the head is enormous, with black faceted eyes and a gaping maw
that reveals dozens of rows of wickedly curved teeth that are as long as a great sword. The stench
of stagnant waters wafts from the bloated body.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling does not even register your presence as a threat.
Lair of the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The shadows have been gathered here. The shadowy outline of a twisted forest casts a dark gloom here
. Hidden deep within the environment lies a mystic pathway. There are 10 shadowlord widowriders here.
There are 10 illithoid scourges here. There are 10 dark nighthags here. The scent of death radiates
from a mangled corpse impaled here upon a sharpened pole. Covered in bone armour, a giant bat hangs
here, wings folded about its body and one beady eye open. A dusty charcoal grimalkin sits here
quietly, gazing over the space with her pale, empty eyes, the twitchy movement reflected in her
greasy tail. Crouched and ready to pounce, a moss-covered, dim-witted lioness with a golden radiant
tail waits here. Spikes jutting forth from its skin, the massive bulk of the Ebonglom Wyrdling
pulsates on the floor. Enadonella with an Unknown face is here, shrouded. She wields a golden whip
of the pious in her left hand and a rusted viola in her right. She is bearing a resplendent flag of
the standard bearer. Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel stands here, an unnatural
silence clinging to her like a shroud. She wields the graceful black-crystal athame of the Silent
Umbra in her left hand. Moi Ysav'rai is here, shrouded. She wields a black steel nekai in each hand.
Nascent Liray, Attendant to the Wyrd is here. He wields a steel claymore with both hands.
You see a single exit leading east.
You see the following people here:
Enadonella, Rancoura, Liray, Moi, Snag.
It opens its gaping maw again and swallows the statue of Mother Night deep within its gullet. With a
final swallowing sound, you see the upturned hand of Mother Night disappear from sight.
Growling slightly, the Ebonglom Wyrdling settles against the ground once more, its eyes watching the
gathering carefully.
Moi Ysav'rai whispers to Enadonella, "Where did he even get that statue?"
You have emoted: Snag peers at the a plush doll of the Ebonglom Wyrdling, cudgel held at the ready.
Her colourless eyes adjusting, voice both flat and velvet, Furiosa Salome Nightshade, the Sublime
Aphotia says, "The statue...It is from the Coven."
Salome glances askance at Rancoura.
Avoiding the massive girth of the Wyrdling, Rancoura rises a few inches off the ground, her shadow
-mist, phantasmal wings flared and sending roiling tendrils of shadow out with each sweep. Her gaze
hardens as she stares at the now-settled Wyrdling, a flare of shadowfire flickering out from her
form to brush against the Wyrdling's snout.
Rancoura nods slightly to Salome. "From the very depths of the Halls of the Conquering Darkness,"
she whispers coolly.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling snuffles briefly, barely registering the shadowfire.
(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Let's just pretend I didn't emote at my wyrdling doll, and remove
that from any posted logs. Thanks for your cooperation."
(The Shadow Kindred): Salome says, "Yep."
Frowning at the Ebonglom Wyrdling, Moi Ysav'rai says, "...Did you eat the old guildhalls?"
A dark weight upon her words, Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers to the
Ebonglom Wyrdling, "If you are hungry, great creature, you need only tell us. The artifacts of the
guilds-of-old are not for your consumption."
A dark weight upon her words, Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers to the
Ebonglom Wyrdling, "If you are hungry, great creature, you need only tell us. The artifacts of the
guilds-of-old are not for your consumption."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling inhales sharply and then a sound like a guttural sneeze rips from its throat,
showering Rancoura in mucous.
A moss-covered furred lioness with a golden radiant tail cleans herself by licking her paws and
rubbing them onto her face.
Rancoura stares coldly at the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of her body
, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of Salome's
body, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of your
body, removing the dirt and grime covering you.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of
Enadonella's body, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Rancoura's hands begin to glow with scalding warmth and she passes them over the surface of Moi's
body, removing the dirt and grime covering her.
Moi chokes back a laugh at Rancoura's expense, covering her mouth with one hand.
(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Whoever wrote this: Thank you. Getting home from a long day of work
to this has made my whole month."
(The Shadow Kindred): Enadonella says, "I am also dying."
Rancoura raises an eyebrow at Moi.
Salome makes her way slowly to the great, Wyrdling beast, posture unafraid as she stares into the
depths of his eyes. Side-stepping the shower of mucous, with a brief wrinkling of her pert nose.
Moi Ysav'rai says to Rancoura, "...something in my through. Yes. Ahem."
(The Shadow Kindred): Moi says, "...thorat."
(The Shadow Kindred): Moi says, "..."
You have emoted: Snag nods his maw sagely.
(The Shadow Kindred): Moi says, "I give up."
Coolly, Lady Haruspex Rancoura So'hthae, Ole'noc Caihel whispers to Moi, "In your through. Indeed."
(The Shadow Kindred): Salome says, "EHEHhhhh this is a great event."
(The Shadow Kindred): You say, "Moi is coughing up a hairball."
Enadonella's footsteps crunch the ground beneath in warning as she shadows Salome, watching Moi and
Rancoura's exchange she is somewhat distracted and almost slams into Salome, her body off balance as
she attempts to stand firm once more.
You have emoted: Snag lowers his maw, eyes never leaving the Ebonglom Wyrdling as he whispers "So,
uh, I guess recovering anything from the ruins is now out of the question."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling lifts its head at this and turns its massive bulk to better see you.
Easily eluding her manuever, Salome holds up a palm as she rises on her own darkling wings, as she
extends it before the Wyrdling. Burned within the skin lies the Mark of Darkness manifesting from
deep shadows that pulse underneath her skin - showing the beast her connection with the statue that
he had just so conveniently devoured. "Why were you in the ruins?" She addresses the beast directly,
after your remark.
You have emoted: Snag slithers back, forked tongue flicking out nervously.
Moi Ysav'rai says to you, "Well. Theoretically he might let us into the Ebonguard guildhall? But
that seems... doubtful."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling turns to face Rancoura, its eyes focusing.
Rancoura's head turns swiftly to the Wyrdling, a sense of deep concentration upon her countenance
now.
Enadonella watches Salome approach the Ebonglom Wyrdling and growls lowly, almost inaudibly, as he
approaches Rancoura, "Steady on."
The Ebonglom Wyrdling says, "RANCOURA IS THIS SO? DO THESE BLADES SO MARK YOU?"
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Rancoura's lips.
Of course the wyrdling said nothing aloud. How could it?
Rancoura's head bows slightly as she replies, "They do, Wyrdling." Her hollow whisper echoes through
the tunnel. "They are earned through great trials and lessons, great services performed in defense
of the Heart of Darkness, with the spreading of its glory and influence in mind."
Her hands clasped, Rancoura delicately brushes the edge of her Fingerblade with one tip, considering
the Wyrdling inquisitively.
Rancoura draws a slow breath, eyes briefly closing. When they open once more, their lazuline has
shifted to violet, the darkflames within riotous. "We would salvage them if it is at all possible,
Wyrdling," she whispers quietly. The presence of Mother Night was palpable within those Halls, and
we value all that bears Her touch."
Rancoura draws a slow breath, eyes briefly closing. When they open once more, their lazuline has
shifted to violet, the darkflames within riotous. "We would salvage them if it is at all possible,
Wyrdling," she whispers quietly. "The presence of Mother Night was palpable within those Halls, and
we value all that bears Her touch."
Shadows swirl around Moi's arm as the Fingerblade of dha'Wyrden-cree shifts and turns around her
hand.
Lifting its head higher, its eyes focusing, the Ebonglom Wyrdling pauses, as if to consider
something. It moves its massive head up and down, then lowers it once more to the ground.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling tilts its head to Rancoura, a gesture like bowing, and then waits.
Rancoura purses her lips, deep in thought.
Rancoura bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Rancoura into its mouth.
Enadonella gives a horrified gasp.
You blink.
Salome bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Salome into its mouth.
Enadonella bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
Moi bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Moi into its mouth.
Yendor bows respectfully to the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
The Ebonglom Wyrdling rears up suddenly and opens its vast maw before taking Yendor into its mouth.
You bow respectfully to a plush doll of the Ebonglom Wyrdling.
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "The Wyrdling has allowed us access to its interior, once used as the
Ebonguard as their halls."
(Glomdoring): Athree says, "Ah. That is a nice place to be in. Can anyone get in?"
(Glomdoring): Rancoura says, "So it would seem. You need only bow to it."
(Glomdoring): You say, "If you have the fingerblade."
(Glomdoring): You say, "Those who do not must teleport in."
And thus the treasures of the old guildhalls were saved, a secret clubhouse for those who completed the Epic quest was found, and Snag learned the importance of using denizen identifiers.
9
(c) Iron Realms Entertainment 2012.
Comments
The Ebonglom Wyrdling turns to face Rancoura, its eyes focusing.
My point of view for that exchange follows:
Tonight amidst the mountaintops
And endless starless night
Singing how the wind was lost
Before an earthly flight