For the moment, you decide to play it safe. The woman's clearly doing something here beyond just playing: one doesn't wander into a monster-infested keep beyond the wilderlands for the fun of it. Keeping low, you move a little closer -- as close as you dare without alerting her to your presence.
The red-maned woman's dirge continues as you draw near, resolving into a deep-throated chant. The strumming of her gallichon grows faster, more intense, rising to an almost feverish pace to match her singing. At first, you start to wonder if she means to draw out the creatures of the keep with this performance, rouse them from their slumber within the ruins. But that fear is quickly set aside by one much worse: you can feel the air around you go cold and heavy, charged with power that makes your skin crawl uneasily. You suck in a sharp breath, sensing the aetheric energy gathering all around you, pressing against the very fabric of your world like a knife into silk.
The veil tears, splitting apart in a thunderous crack and a flash of green energy that leaves you reeling back, shielding your eyes.
"HEAR ME, SPIRIT," the woman's voice booms. "You who have languished here, long unresting, bound to this place by blood and tears! I bid you, show yourself!"
The woman's on her feet now, one hand on her poleaxe and the other thrust forward to the shimmering green hole that has opened up in front of her. It's a flat plane of glowing light and darkness, swirling in between itself and crackling with bale lightning. You clutch your staff and duck down low, watching as a pair of spectral hands pull themselves from the gaping tear, drawing forth a body...
... for only a fleeting moment, before you feel the power charging the air erupt -- another flash of light and a resounding BOOM as if thunder had pealed from the rift, and the rift blinked closed. You could swear you heard a scream from within, just as the failed veil sealed itself, leaving an acrid scent and a stifling silence in its wake.
A moment passed.
"FUCK!" the redhead screams, slamming the butt of her axe on the ground. She lets out a ragged sigh and slumps back against the wall, breathing hard.
If anything in the castle had still been asleep, you're sure it's not now. What's life without a little challenge?
When a moment passes with neither spirit nor monster showing itself, you swing your staff under your arm and rise, slowly walking out from the rubble. The woman jumps up in surprise when you come into view, brandishing her axe until you raise your offhand non-threateningly, keeping your staff-blade pointed well away from her.
"I thought all you salamanders were dead," she says after a moment, lowering her axe. "At least all the ones in this old place."
You try and hide a scowl. Not funny. "I'm Remi. What was that all about?"
"Sylvia Harland," the woman says, giving you a curt nod. Seeing no further threat, you start making your way down the rubble towards her. "And that... that was supposed to be a summoning. Communion with the spirits of this place. I have questions, and nothing living here can answer them. Apparently the dead just aren't interested."
Spirits? "Does that make you some kind of necromancer, then?"
"Do I look the part?" she laughs huskily, leaning on her axe and putting a hand on her hip. Her arms are bare beside her sleeveless hide vest, and you can see she's thickly muscled, like the warriors in your village. And, like many of them, she's got a hefty rack pushing out her armor, showing just enough cleavage to entice your gaze. She's tall to boot, much moreso than a cat-girl or harpy; Slyvia stands more or less eye to eye with you when you get over to her.
An amazon, no doubt about it. Never seen them off the southern plains, though.
Wonder what she's doing all the way out here...?
((Another open-ended one. Post topics of discussion or other actions, and I'll combine them into a dialogue!))
The red-maned woman's dirge continues as you draw near, resolving into a deep-throated chant. The strumming of her gallichon grows faster, more intense, rising to an almost feverish pace to match her singing. At first, you start to wonder if she means to draw out the creatures of the keep with this performance, rouse them from their slumber within the ruins. But that fear is quickly set aside by one much worse: you can feel the air around you go cold and heavy, charged with power that makes your skin crawl uneasily. You suck in a sharp breath, sensing the aetheric energy gathering all around you, pressing against the very fabric of your world like a knife into silk.
The veil tears, splitting apart in a thunderous crack and a flash of green energy that leaves you reeling back, shielding your eyes.
"HEAR ME, SPIRIT," the woman's voice booms. "You who have languished here, long unresting, bound to this place by blood and tears! I bid you, show yourself!"
The woman's on her feet now, one hand on her poleaxe and the other thrust forward to the shimmering green hole that has opened up in front of her. It's a flat plane of glowing light and darkness, swirling in between itself and crackling with bale lightning. You clutch your staff and duck down low, watching as a pair of spectral hands pull themselves from the gaping tear, drawing forth a body...
... for only a fleeting moment, before you feel the power charging the air erupt -- another flash of light and a resounding BOOM as if thunder had pealed from the rift, and the rift blinked closed. You could swear you heard a scream from within, just as the failed veil sealed itself, leaving an acrid scent and a stifling silence in its wake.
A moment passed.
"FUCK!" the redhead screams, slamming the butt of her axe on the ground. She lets out a ragged sigh and slumps back against the wall, breathing hard.
If anything in the castle had still been asleep, you're sure it's not now. What's life without a little challenge?
When a moment passes with neither spirit nor monster showing itself, you swing your staff under your arm and rise, slowly walking out from the rubble. The woman jumps up in surprise when you come into view, brandishing her axe until you raise your offhand non-threateningly, keeping your staff-blade pointed well away from her.
"I thought all you salamanders were dead," she says after a moment, lowering her axe. "At least all the ones in this old place."
You try and hide a scowl. Not funny. "I'm Remi. What was that all about?"
"Sylvia Harland," the woman says, giving you a curt nod. Seeing no further threat, you start making your way down the rubble towards her. "And that... that was supposed to be a summoning. Communion with the spirits of this place. I have questions, and nothing living here can answer them. Apparently the dead just aren't interested."
Spirits? "Does that make you some kind of necromancer, then?"
"Do I look the part?" she laughs huskily, leaning on her axe and putting a hand on her hip. Her arms are bare beside her sleeveless hide vest, and you can see she's thickly muscled, like the warriors in your village. And, like many of them, she's got a hefty rack pushing out her armor, showing just enough cleavage to entice your gaze. She's tall to boot, much moreso than a cat-girl or harpy; Slyvia stands more or less eye to eye with you when you get over to her.
An amazon, no doubt about it. Never seen them off the southern plains, though.
Wonder what she's doing all the way out here...?
((Another open-ended one. Post topics of discussion or other actions, and I'll combine them into a dialogue!))
