Christ Centered Gamer

((Actually, I wasn't sure how the dice roller thingy worked. I tried to do it with my last post, but it didn't do anything.

Let's try a couple of test rolls....

Test
[dice]0[/dice]

[dice]1[/dice]

[dice]1d6 +1[/dice]

OK, so the dice roller doesn't allow you to add extra numbers. Good to know. Here we go for real!

Knowledge: Heraldry for the mark.
[dice]2[/dice]

Knowledge: Religion for the mark.
[dice]3[/dice]

Knowledge: Religion for the story.
[dice]4[/dice]

Each of those should be +4 for my skill. And now for the Diplomacy check (which I have a +5 to)....

Diplomacy
[dice]5[/dice]

((So the way it works is you do this [dice.]1d20+5[/dice] for the code to work, leave out the "." on the other side of the dice. Then you will have a result like this [dice]0[/dice] .))

The Shop owner smiles, a cruel yet kind smile. After your meal you find yourself in the kitchen for many hours cleaning and reorganizing the entire operation. Next you help the owner move some heavy furnature up the stairs into a few of the rooms. By the end of it, you two are laughing and telling jokes and there appears to be no hard feelings between the two of you.

"I understand what it is to be down on my luck boy, consider this night here at the inn on me, but starting tomorrow you will have to find your way on the road unless you can come up with some coin."

When you finally retire for the evening, you swear to yourself that this was the most tired you've been in a while and that meal may not have been worth the hours of grueling labor. When you head to your room, you find an envelop lying on your bed with "Trip" written on the outside. Upon inspection you notice that the seal bears the mask of Olidammara. You open it carefully but anxious to see what was inside. A few gold coins fall out and written there was one word, "Underport."

You bound up the stairs to find a strange door. The door appears to be physical and ethereal at the same time. Above the door is a ghostly looking skull. With a deep an penetrating voice it says, "TO WHAT DESTINATION ARE YOU TO ARRIVE?"

Kratimos stops in his tracks and stands up, girl still clutching on his shoulders. He sniffs the air and listens for the butcher. He needs to get this girl out before he can get the hammer.
[dice]0[/dice]

"You know where the butcher went, door?"

Concern on my face, I sit slowly to the ground. Many things running though my mind as I look up to the Priestess. What can I do? What can anyone do? If he is a demigod, who can stop him?

Not a heavy drinker, Crimson decides to leave the barrels alone. The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of chains indicate that she's quickly worn out her welcome there. Since there's no way out and her torch is giving away her location she quickly props it up (either wedges it somewhere or maybe there's a torch hanger thingy on the wall??) and ducks behind the barrel to see what is coming down the hallway towards her. She arms her crossbow as she's waiting.

The tone of the priestess' voice begins to change. A second, more powerful voice, pressing through her own. Her eyes glow a bright yellow color and her feet hover several inches from the ground. The wind flows through the sanctuary, her brazen red hair, a tangle of fiery chaos.

"You are the branded, you are marked for a purpose. At the appointed time will your destiny be made clear."

Her skin begins to crack as if light is forcing its way through her body.

"You must stop this ever growing darkness, rend the heart of Mellifleur. Destroy the artifact! Free the world from this dark age. BRING THEM TOGETHER! BRING TOGETHER THE KNIGHT, THE SHADOW, THE ORCHID, THE MINSTREL AND THE WOLF.....UNITE THE BRANDED...."

Her voice begins to fade, the world around you stirs, a blur as if by madness...."unite....the branded..."

Your head is heavy and your sight is still blurry. As your vision clears, you realize the horror as you find the sanctuary utterly devastated. All that was once green, blackened by fire. You look up and see the charred remains of a single body. You rush over to it to discover a skeleton, all flesh burned away.On closer inspection, you see a few strands of red hair, singed but attached to the skull. It's clear the priestess has been dead for some time.

As if stirred by a ghost you feel a cold breeze. You turn from her body to see the tree she was leaning against just moments before, or was she? Was it a vision? Was it a dream? How did you get here? There, carved into the burnt out remains of the tree was the symbol of a skeletal hand clutching a vial. The dark mark of Mellifleur.

"The gentleman who was here moments before?...yes...I know where he went. Would you care to follow?"

If it wasn't for the fact that this thing was a skull, you would almost think it was smiling, given it's tone.

You fade into the shadow, the darkness covering you and making you invisible. You listen closely and search the visible areas of the room to the best of your ability. The shadows outside of the torchlight dance and your eyes play tricks on you. You hear the sound of the chains again and you're convinced that the sound is coming from outside of your area of view.

Whatever the creature/(s) is/are they don't seem to be taking the torch bait. Perhaps they're afraid of the fire or being stealthy. So much for picking them off at a distance. Grabbing her torch back, she moves silently hovering by the barrels so she can roll one down if need be while she searches for traps that can be disarmed or used for her advantage. All the while she listens to determine how many of them there are.

Kratimos eyes the door suspiciously. He hasn't met many skull doors, but something seems odd about this one.
"Show me."

The letter from his father was rumpled, dirty and beginning to rip in the creases, but reading it each night is still a ritual Guy engages in without fail.

He has failed. Miserably and completely. He knows it. He's been trying to do what little good he can for the resistance but this is no way for a paladin to fight... In the shadows of the arena, for the amusement of cruel masters. He prays each night that the good he does outweighs the bad, but he can no longer discern the difference.

And so he fights each night. He wears the arrogant mask. He pretends to revel in the torn flesh of his opponents, and each night he hopes this will be the night he's finally slain.

He had always believed that the divine power he'd been granted was the ultimate strength. Who can stand against a warrior who wields the power of a god? And yet... That... thing... that Kratimos had become. It was fury incarnate. It was power unleashed. It could have, and probably would have, eviscerated him with little effort. Where was that divine light now? Was the power that fueled this beast greater?

Maybe it didn't matter. He could hear the trumpets now. Another night. Another fight. Another opportunity for release from this prison life had become.

(( I haven't had an opportunity to go through the 3.5 manual to round out my equipment, but it would be pretty basic stuff in addition to what I already have listed. A backpack, week of trail rations, change of clothes, coil of rope, a couple torches, a bedroll, that sort of thing. One thing I'd like to include, if I could, would be some sort of journal that Trip can carry with him, so he can write down events that have happened to him and any interesting stories he comes across. As well as a vial of ink and a pen.))

Winthrop sleeps hard - if he had any dreams or nightmares, he was too exhausted from the hard work to awaken from them. Int he morning, he prays to Olidammara and goes through the usual ritual, then makes a quick notation of the events that happened the day before. He sketches the odd symbol that appeared on his hand into the journal as well. He wonders if it will change shape - it doesn't look like anything he recognizes at this point.

Trip carefully makes the bed as neatly as possible. Then he takes one of the gold coins from the envelope and places it in the middle of the bed. Gathering up the rest of his equipment - and making sure the remaining few coins are stored securely within his vest - he leaves the room and heads to the main room. He stops at the innkeeper and announces that he is headed on his way.

"Would you happen to know of a town called Underport? I've heard a rumor that there may be some interesting stories to be found there."

The skull speaks with a tone of clear disgust, "This is no window, you must pass through to the other side in order to follow suit. Here, allow me."

The door takes on the form of liquid and spirals from the center out. In it's place, a swirling vortex.

"Enter..."

Kratimos gruffly sighs. He's gotten into bad times with situations that proceeded similarly. But what else was there to do?
"Are you ready, little girl?" He asked the child still clinging on his back. "Well, let's go find your papa..."
And with that, they stepped through.