Christ Centered Gamer

((Ugh.... I have tried, but he is stubborn! Maybe on Friday you can give him a jab yourself and let him know he is what is holding everyone up. ))

I look at the temple feeling uneasy. I take a deep breath, make sure my morning star is easy to get to under my robes and step up to the door. I push it open slowly hoping for signs of life and light.

There is a small hesitation when taking the journal of the vampire lord, but his curiosity overcame. Kratimos nods to thank him.

"Well, I'm not a particularly talented man, but I am good at one thing; I am a killer. This small set of skills might just be right for this lich." Kratimos paused and looked the ranger straight in the eyes. "Let's send him back to Gehenna."

Kratimos turns to the half-elf. "So, friend, what say you? Apparently, you are a messenger as well." Kratimos rolls up his right sleeve to reveal his forearm. "Care to show me your brand?"

"For too long this land has been plagued by the cruel tyranny of the lich," states Winthrop. "I remember a time when life used to be pleasant. If there is any chance I can bring joy back to the world, I should take it."

Winthrop turns his attention to the man with the girl... he doesn't think any of them have been introduced yet. "I am Winthrop Gando, but you may call me 'Trip,' if you'd like. I don't recall being sent any messages to deliver, but if you have any information to explain this odd mark I received, I'd love to hear it." He pulls off his fingerless glove to show the vibrant purple mark on the back of his right hand.

The brand on Kratimo's forearm glows from blue to red as he runs across it with his left hand.
"Well, Trip, unfortunately, I cannot help you with any message, for I know of none. All I am aware is that we are called to fight the undead plague. I am Kratimos, ...and this here is Anna."
Kratimos gently moves her forward with his hand, introducing her to Winthrop.
"There are others like us. Others who are branded. We would need to find them if we have any hope of defeating this Lich king." Kratimos turned back to the Hestic ranger, "Do you know of any others with marks like these? Any other 'messengers'?"

Guy remembers once, many years ago, when his father had shown mercy to a fallen enemy whom he was supposed to hate. He was supposed to do his duty and kill this enemy. The enemy was supposed to be evil.

But Guy the Elder showed mercy, and that foe became his closest friend and ally. A man who had taught Guy the Younger the sword and the lance, and was a mentor so close that Guy regarded him as an uncle.

"Very well... What is it you would have me do?"

The Hestic looks at you curiously, "The Volstaid are confused in that you are unaware of your being messengers. Typically, when we as the Volstaid see one such as yourself they are the greatest of people of their realm. Usually a champion or hero of a god."

The Hestic looks at your mark. His cold hand takes Kratimos' and he pulls it close to himself. With the index finger of his opposite hand, he traces the mark. "Each is unique to the god that made the branding. Though similar and tribal in appearance, it is an ancient language composed by the gods themselves. The words are more than just markings. Inside them is power. We know so much of this since we've ferried so many across the river to their resting place. "

"We know so much because..." Volstaid releases the lycan's hand. He rolls up the sleeve of his right arm. You see a tribal looking mark shaped as a skull. A thin, purple line outlines the mark in a glowing light. "Because I am a child of the Ferryman, a servant of death and an enemy to those that oppose the natural way."

**There isn't much time. Since we are communicating in your mind, time is passing at a much slower pace. When I revive you, it will have only been moments since you've left the arena. Take the dagger from my hilt and stab me here** He shows you a place that looks like where his heart should be. **When the guards arrive it will look as though I were trying to feed. After you stab me, it will show that you can beat one such as me and I'm sure they won't hesitate to spare you. Moving forward, we need to survive until Celestian presents us with an opportunity to escape...**

**NOW WAKE UP**

When you come to, it was just as the creature said. His tentacles wrapped around your head and a sharp beak protruding from the center. Your hands feel around and you notice a dagger tucked into its belt. The guards approach and you hear them shouting in aroused tones of excitement.

You step forward through an old and shambled gate. You walk on a path through what once was a humble garden. The temple, if you can call it that, is worn, dilapidated. A creak resounds as your weight shifts to the first step. The same for the second as you make your way to the porch. Everything is covered in dust and a dank smell seems to be all that fills the air. The door is closed before you, a tarnished copper handle rests to the right.

Kratimos smirked at the comment of messengers being heroes or champions, but his face still fell. "One might think." His voice trailed off, weighed down by his failure. The Volstaid's mention of the "natural way" made him a bit uncomfortable, but he suppressed his qualms and pretended not to notice it. He doesn't quite know how they'd respond to his lycanthropy, but he's guessing they wouldn't be, or are not, fond of it.
"But, the story isn't over yet. What can you tell us of our brands?"

Curiosity getting the best of Crimson she quietly heads towards the noise to get a better sense of what is being said. Given her environment she checks to traps along the way and tries to hug the wall to avoid detection.

Move silently
[dice]0[/dice]
Listen
[dice]1[/dice]
Search
[dice]2[/dice]

I knock.

"Yes, I'm not too sure about the hero or champion thing, either" comments Winthrop. "I'm just a priest trying to make things right."

He shows his own mark. "I've been curious about the meaning of this as well. It's a language, you say? Can you translate it?"

Obeying the instructions, Guy reaches for the dagger and, hesitating only an instant, thrusts it into the creature in the location indicated, all the way to the hilt.

Your hand collides with the aged wood. *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

Nothing. You wait several moments and after a while you could swear you hear the sound of feet shuffling coming from inside.

The knife dives in deep and your mind takes on a sudden sharp pain as the creature cries out telepathically from the wound.

**VERY GOOD....**

It's breathing is weighed and heavy. Two guards rush around the corner. Their horror and amazement they take in the scene. The mindflayer falls back from you and collapses to the ground, clutching the dagger in its lithe purple hands.

**Now say these exact words, I HAVE CONQUERED YOU, BUT IN MY MERCY I SPARE YOU, YOU ARE TO SERVE ME IN THIS LIFE CREATURE**