Post by Darth Kairos on Oct 5, 2019 0:19:36 GMT
The ruined walls of the fortress seemed to grow and close around him as Nephelus confident but cautiously entered it. It was not the physical appearance of the fortress that gave off such a sense of dread and foreboding - it was the memory of the blood that had seeped into the stones beneath his feet.
Nephelus could not truly feel anymore - but he could leech and reflect the emotions of those around him. Even as his power had grown, he had only ever accomplished this with other living humanoids like himself, and the occasional intelligent beast. But as he strode upon the ruined stone, Nephelus felt chilling emotion begin to well up within him and paused, confused. Even though he tried to center himself, he could not stem the rising tide that swept through him, and staggered to lean against a wall and brace himself against the surge.
As he blinked, he saw more images flash through his mind. He was the slave in the pen, frozen by the looming dread of tomorrow and the uncertainty of his fate. He was the master of the pits, elated by his power as he drew a notched whip across the back of a prisoner. He was the sacrifice, tied to a stone slab and screaming for mercy as robed figures chanted something eldritch and raised wicked knives, he was the indescribable agony as the blades penetrated his flesh, and he was the release of fear and pain that followed. He was the scribe, dutiously copying notes into an ancient tome by candlelight and feeling the hesitant joy of a breakthrough and the relish of how he might test it on his subjects. And he was the stones beneath his feet, sucking down the blood and the fear and the pain until it was inundated and echoing with the cries and shouts and screams of fear and power. He was all these things, and more, and yet, he was nothing.
Finally, he regained control of himself, and though he was alone in the fortress, he knew that something lingered just behind his shoulder. The stones and bones of the fortress were dead, but the place itself was very much alive, reverberating with the memories and emotions of its inhabitants from thousands of years ago.
Disoriented from the flash flood of feeling, Nephelus did not see or hear the shapes prowling through the shadows towards his person. It was not until red beams began flaring out from the shadows that he snapped his attention back to what was around him. Five figures emerged from the shadows, each of them brandishing red lightsabers. They were pathetic-looking beings, human or near-human men dressed in rags and missing shirts or wearing only tattered hoods, but immediately Nephelus could sense a...perversion to them. In the same way that his existence perverted the Force and the natural way of things, these five beings were somehow perverted as well.
One, his skin and muscles pulled taught over his bones, held his lightsaber in a sloppy guard position and stepped in front of the others. "You trespass upon the Fortress of the Dread Master, Andeddu," he sneered through missing teeth. "Make offerings to your Gods in the last moments before the worms feast on your flesh."1d20+11ยท1d20+18
Nephelus could not truly feel anymore - but he could leech and reflect the emotions of those around him. Even as his power had grown, he had only ever accomplished this with other living humanoids like himself, and the occasional intelligent beast. But as he strode upon the ruined stone, Nephelus felt chilling emotion begin to well up within him and paused, confused. Even though he tried to center himself, he could not stem the rising tide that swept through him, and staggered to lean against a wall and brace himself against the surge.
As he blinked, he saw more images flash through his mind. He was the slave in the pen, frozen by the looming dread of tomorrow and the uncertainty of his fate. He was the master of the pits, elated by his power as he drew a notched whip across the back of a prisoner. He was the sacrifice, tied to a stone slab and screaming for mercy as robed figures chanted something eldritch and raised wicked knives, he was the indescribable agony as the blades penetrated his flesh, and he was the release of fear and pain that followed. He was the scribe, dutiously copying notes into an ancient tome by candlelight and feeling the hesitant joy of a breakthrough and the relish of how he might test it on his subjects. And he was the stones beneath his feet, sucking down the blood and the fear and the pain until it was inundated and echoing with the cries and shouts and screams of fear and power. He was all these things, and more, and yet, he was nothing.
Finally, he regained control of himself, and though he was alone in the fortress, he knew that something lingered just behind his shoulder. The stones and bones of the fortress were dead, but the place itself was very much alive, reverberating with the memories and emotions of its inhabitants from thousands of years ago.
ImmpQ3ETp_1d20+11
Nephelus opposes this result with an Awareness check at +18 (Awareness * Proficiency + Spirit + 2 (Danger Sense): p_1d20+18
Nephelus opposes this result with an Awareness check at +18 (Awareness * Proficiency + Spirit + 2 (Danger Sense): p_1d20+18
Disoriented from the flash flood of feeling, Nephelus did not see or hear the shapes prowling through the shadows towards his person. It was not until red beams began flaring out from the shadows that he snapped his attention back to what was around him. Five figures emerged from the shadows, each of them brandishing red lightsabers. They were pathetic-looking beings, human or near-human men dressed in rags and missing shirts or wearing only tattered hoods, but immediately Nephelus could sense a...perversion to them. In the same way that his existence perverted the Force and the natural way of things, these five beings were somehow perverted as well.
One, his skin and muscles pulled taught over his bones, held his lightsaber in a sloppy guard position and stepped in front of the others. "You trespass upon the Fortress of the Dread Master, Andeddu," he sneered through missing teeth. "Make offerings to your Gods in the last moments before the worms feast on your flesh."1d20+11ยท1d20+18