Elder Holes: Dongerfall (Phoenixcs)

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Name: Elayne Hearthing
Age: 20
Race: Breton
Background n' Bio: [spoiler]While Elayne was born in Wayrest, in the province of High Rock, she spend most of her life in the Imperial City. Her father, a mage of modest power, was a friend of Uriel Septim VII, and moved to Cyrodiil when he heard the news about the Emperor's strange behavior, taking his family with him. After the Imperial Simulacrum ended, he stayed close to his friend. Elayne grew up close to Imperial court, knowing her homelands mostly from the tales of gallant knights and powerful mages. She learned basics of spellcasting from her father, without formal training from the Mage's Guild. When she reached adulthood, she expressed the desire to visit her homeland once again, but her father's duties prevented him from leaving the Imperial City for long. An opportunity offered itself when the news of king Lysandus' ghost reached the Emperor. Though young and inexperienced, Elayne has convinced her father to ask the Emperor to choose her as the agent sent to investigate. Hesitant to rely on her alone, the Emperor sent her as part of a team of agents, so she could learn.

Unfortunately, as their ship reached Illiac Bay, it got caught in a great storm. The ship was destroyed, but Elayne somehow managed to survive. Washed up in a coastal cave, she woke up to see the entrance collapsed behind her. The only things she's got on her are her clothes, now heavily damaged and torn in the disaster, and a dagger she's kept for self-defense, she'll have to find her way to the kingdom of Daggerfall, and finish the Emperor's mission on her own.

Class: Sorceress
LVL: 1
EXP: 0/30
Image:

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

STR: -2
DEX: 1
INT: 3
WIS: 0
CON: 0
CHA: 2

HP: 10
LP: 10
MP: 13

Gear: Torn dress, iron dagger
Spells: Shock (shock damage touch), Summon Scamp (summons Scamp, a lesser Daedroth, to serve the summoner)/if not allowed: Minor Heal
Powers: Absorb Magicka (absorbs the energy of hostile spell, restoring her own MP) (based on Skyrim's version of Dragonskin)[/spoiler]

Four hundred years after Tiber Septim's reign, the beginning will meet the end, and the bloody circle will close in the Empire of Tamriel. The unworthy heirs of the Septim Dynasty have allowed the bonds of the Empire to weaken and crack. Uriel Septim the Seventh cannot repair what his ancestors ignored. The provinces fight among themselves like neglected children, drunk with rebellion, and one indomitable power hides itself, but not forever.

You had been sent with two missions, the first and more pressing was to discover why King Lysandus had risen from the dead, and was rampaging throughout High Rock with an army of ghosts, then put his damned spirit to rest. The second was somewhat more innocuous, at least so it seemed: It appeared that the Emperor had sent a letter to Lysandus' queen, Mynisera, one of a "personal" nature that she apparently never received, and you were to find and destroy this missive.

The gods, however, did not appear to want you to do this, at least not easily. A freak storm had come and destroyed your ship, nearly sending you to a watery grave. Whether through divine providence, sheer willpower, or simple dumb luck however you survived, managing to pull yourself into a dark cave as the storm raged with scrapes, cuts and bruises from the jagged rock as they shredded the dress you had worn as if it were made of the thinnest of parchments. A loud, final crash caused the cave entrance to collapse behind you, sending several tons of rock down mere meters from your position as you collapsed and all faded to black.

You awoke some length of time later, it was hard to determine without proper sunlight, aching all over, with a burning at the back of your throat from dehydration and swallowing salt water and a similar ache in your bellow from a lack of food. You would find your dagger and thankfully your journal and spellbook were also largely intact, lying some feet away from you. You couldn't see too far into the cave ahead of you, but distant noises told you that there may be life here.

[Phoenixcz]

Uh, my head. And everything else. What happ... oh. The storm. It was terryfing. I was afraid I'll die, and that was before the ship broke in two and I ended up trying to keep myself above the churning waters. I have no idea how I'm still alive, why haven't I drowned, or how lucky I was the waves haven't just smashed me against the rocks, or that I wasn't buried alive when the cave collapsed. Slowly, I look around. It's dark, but there's a source of light somewhere ahead. My vision is still blurry, but I notice few objects lying around. I reach to them. A dagger... no sign of sheath. My spellbook, the covers are soaked, but the insides should be safe. Or I'll get my money back. Heh. Assuming I'll see Imperial City ever again. And no other survivors. Though my body aches, I can move... that's good, it means no broken bones. Slowly, I crawl forward, toward the light and the noise. Perhaps some other survivors will be in there. Or someone to ask for help. I try to call to them, but the sound that escapes through my cracked lips isn't much more than a whisper. I need water. Fresh water, not more seawatter. I'm not trying to stand. I've just survived a shipwreck, no need to break my skull on some protruding rock. It'll mess up my clothes even more, or to be more precise, what's left of them. What I feel is wet, unpleasantly cold, and with more then a few holes that weren't a part of the original design. And there's no sign of my shoes.

Alone, battered, my stuff gone... but I'm still alive. That's worth something. Even if I've lost every last thing, I won't surrender easily. Inch by inch, foot by foot, towards the light...

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Encounter roll, 1d20: 11

Your cuts and scrapes sting from the salt in them as you drag yourself down the cave, inching your way towards a distant light that seems to steadily grow dimmer. As you get closer, you realize what it looks like, the dying embers of a camp fire! No sign of anyone nearby, most likely whoever had set this fire had already left, going ever deeper into the cavern and not bothering to put out the fire. It seemed that whoever was here had also left a wineskin! Sure it was two thirds empty, and if you tasted it's contents it'd definitely be showing hints of sour vinegar, but still, it wasn't sea water!

However, as you peer around the firepit, you realize something.

You aren't alone.

In the shadows, beady red eyes low to the ground watch you, their owner chittering as it skitters out of the light. That looked like a damn big rat, and that damn big rat looked like it was seeing if you'd be a good meal.

[Phoenixcz]

Finding a fire instead of exit from the cave as I've expected raises a question: who started it? I don't know how long I was unconscious... judging by how hungry and thirsty I am, I'd say half a day at least. It could be some other survivor, it could be some local hiding in the cave from the storm. But what sort of local? Random traveler, or some kind of smuggler, pirate or other criminal? It is the later possibility that stops me from calling for help. Falling into hands of such low-lifes is the last thing I'd need right now.

Noticing the wineskin, I eagerly grab it and drink over a half of its remaining content before I notice the taste. Back in the Imperial City, I'd scoff at such swill, but right now, I'm in no position to be picky. I just grimace and continue drinking. Hopefully, the wine is too far gone to get me drunk.

With one of my needs sated, I can pay more attention to my surroundings, and notice the rat. I think I should be able to fight it off, even now, but don't these things carry all sorts of diseases? I'd rather avoid getting too close to it. I look around to see if there's anything to put on the campfire, perhaps the flames will drive it away. Even better, a torch or a burning log would provide not only a weapon, but also a source of light beyond this place.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Rolling for burnables: 20!
Rolling for ROUS Actions: 10

Your throat burns as you down the admittedly rather horrid fluid, but the rush of warmth in your body and the slow but sure return of at least a little bit of strength from getting something to drink allows you to find more than enough material to burn at the fire, and you even find yourself a nice lantern with a solid amount of oil in it and a nice, hefty looking torch just from searching your surroundings, evidently the last person to camp here had collected a large amount of what appears to be driftwood and scraps of cloth, meticulously kept dry as a bone for a rainy day with the lantern and torch sitting on top of the pile.

Despite your sudden re-invigoration and the flare up of fire, the rat surprisingly doesn't panic. Then again it doesn't attack either. After a few awkward moments of the two of you staring at each other, the rat seems to lose interest and wanders back into the dark, deeper into the cavern. If you watched, you'd see that the creature turned left, disappearing around a corner instead of simply going straight, and you felt a slight draft coming from the corridor that carried the scent of saltwater.

[Phoenixcz]

I'm glad that the rat agrees with me on my inedibility, but I still watch the tunnel it disappeared in carefuly. I consider following now that I have a source of light, but ultimately decide to not provoke it by going after it straight away. The fire gives me a sense of safety, even if it may be a bit misplaced, considering the rat's lack of fear of it. But the fire also means warmth, and I could use that. I put some more fuel on the fire, and take off what's left of my dress, both to dry it out and to check the damage. It's not good... it holds together, but even paupers would scoff at wearing something like this. But there's nothing I can do about that, I should be glad I'm still alive, and not complain about torn clothes. I sit there in just my panties, waiting until the clothes dry, close to the fire to warm myself up. I still keep an eye on the tunnel the rat disappeared into, in case it, or the one who started the fire, returns.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Encounter roll 1d100:17

Drying your clothes and yourself would take time, but it appeared that you'd have it as there were no further signs of life in your part of the cave, allowing you to take a breather and get your thoughts together. Still, you'd probably have to get moving soon as your stomach began to growl.

However, the rest and warmth does seem to reinvigorate your body and spirit, and you feel refreshed and ready to press on! (Plus 1 CON for 10 turns!)

[Phoenixcz]

With the creeping cold gone, and my dress dry, I put it on again. Time to move further. But it bring small dilemma. I'll need a light source, but should I take the lantern, or the torch? Lantern is more reliable and will last longer, on the other hand, I can drop the torch without fear of it breaking, or use it as a weapon. I don't really have a way to carry both, and I think the torch may be a little more useful if more rats shows up. I light the torch in the fire, and slowly and warrily make my way down the corridor, to the intersection. I'll need to find out which direction is the breeze is coming from, and to make sure the rat is alone. I keep the torch to the side, so it won't blind me so much, and keep my right hand free to draw my knife or for spellcasting, if needed.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Rolling Spot check, 9
Rolling encounters: 069

Now that you've got an actual light source, you notice that these cave walls are starting to give way to a more man made construction, with the natural, uncut stone of the cave giving way to more artificial cut stone walls, with faint marks from tools on them. How strange, could you be in a sort of fort? You'd also notice that the floor was starting to get smoother as well, as if worn down. However, before you could ponder too much, you hear something coming and see the silhouette of a humanoid figure approaching, however a draft coming from the direction of it brings the sickening sweet scent of death, foreshadowing what you'll be encountering just before you look at it's face and see only hollow eye sockets staring back, a noseless grinning face below with strips of green and brown rotting flesh still clinging to it, the skeletal zombie appeared to be armed with a club made from driftwood, probably taken from a previous wreck, maybe even yours. It's other hand is free, but the sharp looking skeletal nails on the end would probably leave a nasty, disease ridden scratch on you if it got a hold of you. Finally, it appeared to be wearing a rusted iron breastplate and accompanying grieves.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Rolling initiative
Elayne: 3
Zombie: 24

The zombie is too far away for it to reach you immediately, though it's awkward, limping gait is closing the distance as it lets loose a low, hideous death rattle and raises it's club.

[Phoenixcz]

Interesting. So it's not just a random cave after all. This place looks pretty old, and the presence of giant rats isn't very encouraging, even if the fire clearly means this place is inhabited. And I've heard a lot of stories about people and things that likes to live in old ruins... not many of them encouraging. Necromancers, vampires, bandits and all sorts of criminals, witches, daedra worshippers, orcs and more monstrous things that wouldn't have much need for a fire. Perhaps I wasn't so lucky when I ended up here. Between drowning and being eaten by goblins, I'd at least be unconscious for the former.

When I notice the zombie, I momentarily freeze in horror. It's one thing to read about them in the books, it's quite another to actually meet one in all its hideous flesh. Or lack of it, in this case. I back away few steps and quickly think what to do. That thing is slow. If I run, it'll follow, and I'll get cornered eventually. And while I feel better than when I woke up, I wouldn't liked my chances even if I was fully fit... my dagger seems useless against almost bare bones, and unlike me, wears an armor, even if it's old and rusted. Something heavier would be better. I am faster and better coordinated... I hope... but that's the only advantage I have. Well, and my magic. But I'd have to get close enough to touch it, and I'm not sure if it would do anything... again, mostly bones, with no flesh, even if its armor actually helps my shocking touch.

Only one option, then. I concentrate and reach out with my magicka away from Mundus, to call a scamp out of its home somewhere in the Oblivion. Scamps may only be lesser daedra, but they can be quite vicious if provoked... or ordered to by a sorceress. And they are weak enough so I can keep it under my control even in this state... I hope. Why fight, if I can get others to fight my battles for me?

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

HP:11/11 (CON bonus lasts 7 more turns)
LP:10/10
MP:9/13

You gather your magicka, feeling it tense and flow inside you as you envisioned the scamp being pulled from Oblivion and coming to your aid as the zombie shuffles towards you, steadily closing the distance with it's awkward, jerky movements when you feel a churn in your gut, and for a brief second you get a glimpse of a firey gate as it erupts in front of you, spitting out a brown, long eared and flat faced bipedal creature with red eyes, sharp looking teeth and gnarled, patchy skin stretched over a gaunt, hunched frame. The creature shrieks in defiance and raises it's claw, sending a flare at the zombie! However, the shot goes wide as a combination of the scamp's incompetence and the zombie's tripping on a bit of raised stone allows the undead to escape damage as the flare strikes the wall behind it harmlessly, exploding into sparks. Growling in what might've been hunger, anger or both, the zombie raised it's makeshift club and swung in retaliation, clobbering your summoned daedra across the face and knocking a couple of teeth out of it's jaws!

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Scamp flare to hit (DC9):5!
Zombie attacks Scamp! (DC8):10! Damage roll (1d4): 3!
Scamp is reduced to 5/8 HP and 5/8 MP

[Phoenixcz]

Considering the damage the zombie has caused to my minion, I'm glad I've decided to conjure some help instead of facing it myself. Still, it does present a problem: if the zombie manages to send my scamp back where it came from, I'll be in the same situation as before. Originally, I wanted to hang back and observe the fight, but it seems I'll have to intervene after all. My options are just as limited as when the fight started. I don't want to waste any more of my magicka unless necessary, as I doubt this is the only enemy here, and I'd rather spent it on more helpers for future battles, and my dagger still seems woefully inadequate against mostly skeletal undead. But that's what I have to work with... hitting it with a torch wouldn't be much better, I think.

Still reluctant to get closer to the disgusting creature, I draw my dagger and wait until the zombie's busy fighting the scamp to lunge in and try to stab it's most exposed and hopefully vulnerable part: its head. I don't intend to stay close to it, though, and I'll try to back away immediately, if possible, in case it decides to re-focus its efforts on me.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Scamp claws at the zombie! (DC 8) 10! Rolling damage (1d4) 4! Crit! Rolling crit damage (1d4): 4!
Elayne attacks with dagger! (DC8): 18! Rolling Damage: 2!
Zombie is killed!

The zombie was in the process of raising it's club for a second strike when the scamp shrieked hard enough to almost burst your ears, then lunged forward and viciously tore into the undead monstrosity's abdomen with it's claws in a frenzy! The smell of rot gets even more foul as the abomination's bowels are torn free of it's body, and the beast's groans turn to harsh, guttural and low howls of pain as it struggles with the small daedra, black congealed blood shaking from it's ripped open arteries and intestines as it finally shoves the scamp away, only to stiffen when your dagger strikes the zombie squarely in the left side of it's head, pushing in with sickening ease. After a moment of sudden stillness, whatever force was keeping the zombie animated leaves it's body, and the creature seems to almost sigh in relief as it collapses lifelessly to the ground at your feet, your dagger still embedded in it's skull.

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Victory! 4 exp awarded!

[Phoenixcz]

I've won, with the scamp's substantial help, but I think I'm going to be sick. The smell, the sight of the zombies guts falling to the ground, the sound of the dagger sinking into it's skull... it's the most disgusting thing I've seen in my whole life. The fact I haven't eaten in a while helps me in not vomiting all over the place. I thank the scamp for a good work, even though talking to summons is a bit pointless. I wait to calm myself a little, and also to make sure the zombie is actually dead... it wasn't in any state to be walking around before, so I don't want to get too close unless I'm certain it's down for good. I ignore the scamp during that time. When I finally dare to get closer to the zombie, I hold my nose to protect myself from the stench and pry the dagger out of its head, then wipe it in what remains of the zombie's clothes before returning it to its sheet. I don't have the stomach to search the corpse further, and I doubt it'll have anything useful on it. But I do take its club... it's longer than the dagger, and blunt force should be more useful if more undead shows up. And it's easy to use... while sword would be a superior weapon, I lack training to fight with one effectively, but with a club, it's just swinging it around.

Looting done, I continue in the direction the zombie came from, the club in my right hand, the torch in the left.

[Mashugana]

It takes a bit of effort to wrench the dagger free of the corpse's skull, and once you do, you realize that there's an almost viscous, chunky dark substance oozing out of it's skull, causing the smell to be even more horrific than before as rotted blood and brains stained the blade before being wiped off onto what was left of the body's tattered clothing. As for the club, it's got a fair amount of heft to it, probably about five, six pounds or so and three feet long.

Your scamp staggers along after you, wheezing in pain and clutching it's jaw with one of it's clawed hands as you both walk down the dark tunnel, which is now almost entirely artificial, constructed of greyish brown bricks that look like they're made of clay. Progressing further, you find yourself in a chamber, with moldy furniture such as chairs and a broken down, smashed table. Lying next to it are a couple of bodies garbed similarly to the zombie from earlier, though entirely skeletal with no flesh left. They appear to have some things close by, you can make out a shortsword next to one body, and it appears that there's something in the other's hand. Strangely, you can hear fluttering in the chamber as well, like small wings, and there is what looks like a tapestry on the wall beyond them. Along with this, there are two other doorways, one on the left side of the chamber, and another on the right.

[Phoenixcz]

(sorry for the delay, got stuck with a writter's block. My brain, just like my old computer, doesn't handle current hot weather well, and unlike my old computer, I can't just go buy a new brain. I think)

Pulling the dagger out is even more disgusting than thrusting it in. What a surprise. The club feels reassuring, but it may be a bit heavy for me... I've prefered more intellectual pursuits to physical work, and my lack of muscles shows it. Still, propably better than the dagger, though I hope I won't need to use either.

I feel bad for the scamp, he took those hits at my orders, but there's nothing I can do for him. I don't know any healing magic, and I can't even send it back to Oblivion, he'll... or it? It looks male... have to stay until the summoning spell ends.

When I reach the end of the corridor, I notice the remains on the floor and pause. They look dead, but so did the zombie... lack of flesh doesn't mean anything, they can be skeletons waiting to ambush me. But the sword may be a nice compromise... lighter than the club, longer, more effective and not that different to a dagger, so I should be able to use it. I'll have to enter the room regardless, to reach the door ahead, but do I dare to disturb the bones? There's also a sound, but it doesn't sound like any noise the skeletons could create. A bat, perhaps? What else could it be? Certainly not birds. Shouldn't be very dangerous.

With the club ready to strike, I enter the chamber, still focusing on the skeletons. If they don't react to my presence, I move closer and poke them with the club's tip, and if they seem trully dead, I examine them further, to see if there's anything I could use on or around them. The skeletons repulse me much less than the rotting zombie before, though the presence of corpses still makes me uncomfortable, not just because they may animate and attack me... whoever started that fire must've came through here, and he or she just left them lying here instead of burying them or doing something about them.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

It's cool, I probably won't be able to post much til Tuesday or so after this, maybe once more depending on when you respond to this one but yeah, often times I have to work myself up to posting when I get yay many threads so I feel ya.

Once you reach the skeletons, you approach the nearest one and give it a nudge with your club, holding your breath all the while. Several seconds pass, but there's no reaction from the body. The fluttering of batlike wings continues in the room, and in the darkness and shadows it's hard to tell what in Oblivion it is, but you note that those are some pretty heavy wingbeats, and occasionally you hear something like a sinister giggle in the darkness around and above you. Oddly, you smell something strange, something like... ozone.

[Phoenixcz]

I'm relieved when the skeleton doesn't move, but I curse myself mentally as I've been too focused on them to pay more attention to the sound and dismissed it as mere bat. Whatever it is, it sounds much bigger than normal bat, and while I wouldn't be surprised to find out that bats in this place are as overgrown as the rats are, something doesn't fit. I quickly turn around and look around the room. The giggling sounds similar to a scamp's voice, but scamps don't fly, and I prepare myself to dodge, as she smell in the air seems too familiar to the effect accompanying my own shock spell.

[Mashugana]

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Rolling initiative! Elayne: 25, Scamp: 63, Imp: 58

Spoiler (click to show/hide):

Scamp launches a flare! (DC 11) 2, miss! Imp fires a spark at Elayne! (DC11): 15! miss!

Flittering out of the darkness ahead and above, an imp emerges! It's an ugly, batlike daedric entity the size of a toddler, not unlike the scamp in appearance. It's batlike wings cover roughly four and a half feet all told, and it's clawed hands crackled with electricity! Before it can fire it's spell, however, your scamp lets loose a raspy snarl and throws a flare towards it, forcing it to veer to the right to avoid being struck by the flaming projectile even as it launches it's own arc of lightning towards you, the sudden movement on it's part causing the shot to go wide and strike a nearby tapestry, setting it ablaze! The imp chortles as it flits away, weaving and zig zagging to try and avoid any retaliation!

[Phoenixcz]

I'm not exactly startled by the imp's appearance, but it does present a problem. Daedra, except the weakest ones, are resistant or outright immune to mundane weapons, though I don't remember if it applies to imps too, and the only attack spell I know requires me to actually touch a target... easier said than done against something that can fly. I can run back, but that would get me nowhere, and I can choose one of the door, but I'd be rushing into more potential danger, and unlike the zombie, the imp is smart enough to open the door, so it may not stop it from following me... and even if it doesn't, I may pick the wrong door and need to return back here.

I let my scamp do what he's doing, and keep my eyes on the imp, in case it keeps attacking me. I can't do anything to it at this distance, but perhaps there's an option besides fighting...

I know some daedric from my studies. Mostly in case I needed to talk to summoned minions... not that I have any beside the imp, but also because it's generally useful language for a sorceress. Not enough to have an everyday conversation with a dremora, and I'm better at translating texts than talking, but... worth a try.

I raise my hands... though I don't drop either the torch or the club..., still ready to dodge any incoming magic, and speak. "No enemy. Don't want fight. Let me go please?" My voice sounds coarser than I thought after my trials, but I don't think the imp cares. Though I'm aware my spoken daedric is pretty bad. It's not easy to form proper sentences in not very familiar language! I wish I had something to bargain with, but what could an imp want, anyway?

Of course, if that won't work, I'll just throw the club at it. It's pretty heavy, and even if the imp proves resistant to mere wood, it should stop it flying around. Assuming I hit, that is.