01-12-2014, 05:02 PM
Here follows verbatim passage of one of the coolest sessions I've had so far on this server. Paracelsus is visiting Lord Wallace's residence, when a strange haunting occurs. They then proceed to battle it's influences.
Kharnech: [Paracelsus] would hear faint whispers, myriads of voices murmiring and gibbering lowly. As fast as they had come, they vanish before [he could] make out a single word.
Paracelsus immediately turns his head and gazes at the ceiling. He pulls forth his wand and speaks: "Scathe thou not I! O Spirite ov mooste wicketnesse! I wil thou accursed!"
Paracelsus carves a sigin into the air with his wand as he focuses on the subtle energies between him and the presence. "And by this sygne, shal Y him fynde; for to him dissenaunce, for his wicketnesse!"
Paracelsus thrusts forth his wand, whirling the sigil into the energy's space, thereby casting [Shadow Word: Pain] on the intruder.
(Paracelsus wins roll.)
Karnech would get a sting of pain, softly a choir of small voices would wince in agony. He would attempt to control Wallace's mind, make him strike the Undead, punish him for attacking Kharnech --punish him for knowing of Kharnech! He should not be knowing of him!
(Wallace wins roll.)
Wallace roars with bestial vigor!
Paracelsus turns to Wallace. "M'Lorde!" Paracelsus rushes to him and casts [Power Word: Shield] (THEATRICAL EFFECT) "M'Lorde, be thou aryte!?" Paracelsus brings Wallace close to him.
Wallace: "The monster is trying to assault me, but I'm prepared now. No more ale for me! I need full focus! I will not let this ghost come and disturb me for his own entertainment!"
Karnech: "The game. It is on. Yes. A game. A fun game. A game. yes." Kharnech would attempt to instill an image of pure horror and dread into the Undead Priest's mind, bringing his darkest deepest fears to manifest!
(Paracelsus wins roll.)
Paracelsus laughs and yells: "A feebyle spirite, thou art! Moue therefore, and shew thyselfe!" He pulls out his dagger and carves another sigil into the air, casting [Smite] on the presence.
(Paracelsus wins roll.)
Kharnech would be quite smitten by Paracelsus.
Paracelsus: "Moue creature! And obey the livyng breeth!"
Kharnech would once more attempt to take control over Wallace.
(Wallace wins roll.)
Paracelsus: "Be thou ne by a wayke spirite shoke, M'Lorde! ...A wyke spirite indeed!"
Wallace: "THE SPIRIT IS NOTHING AGAINST ME!"
Kharnech: From outside of the door a voice would be heard --no, three voices would be heard; speaking in unison, sounding as if they
poke from the bottom of a well: "So. Is that so, Wallace? Yes. Wallace. It is not so. No. You are afraid."
Wallace: "So, the spectre decided to show himself!"
Paracelsus holds out his dagger toward the door.
Kharnech: "Your time. Yes. Your time. Wallace. Wallace. Yes. It will come. Soon. Very soon. Our offer. It is gone. ...Yes. Gilneas will be dead."
Wallace kicks up the door and rushes out, only to be met by nothing; Paracelsus follows.
Paracelsus raises his dagger in the air. The energies seem to have dispersed.
Wallace: "Coward... Peasant... Rat..."
Paracelsus puts his hand on Wallace's shoulder. "M'Lorde..."
Wallace stands silent in pure inner fury.
Kharnech: [Paracelsus] would hear faint whispers, myriads of voices murmiring and gibbering lowly. As fast as they had come, they vanish before [he could] make out a single word.
Paracelsus immediately turns his head and gazes at the ceiling. He pulls forth his wand and speaks: "Scathe thou not I! O Spirite ov mooste wicketnesse! I wil thou accursed!"
Paracelsus carves a sigin into the air with his wand as he focuses on the subtle energies between him and the presence. "And by this sygne, shal Y him fynde; for to him dissenaunce, for his wicketnesse!"
Paracelsus thrusts forth his wand, whirling the sigil into the energy's space, thereby casting [Shadow Word: Pain] on the intruder.
(Paracelsus wins roll.)
Karnech would get a sting of pain, softly a choir of small voices would wince in agony. He would attempt to control Wallace's mind, make him strike the Undead, punish him for attacking Kharnech --punish him for knowing of Kharnech! He should not be knowing of him!
(Wallace wins roll.)
Wallace roars with bestial vigor!
Paracelsus turns to Wallace. "M'Lorde!" Paracelsus rushes to him and casts [Power Word: Shield] (THEATRICAL EFFECT) "M'Lorde, be thou aryte!?" Paracelsus brings Wallace close to him.
Wallace: "The monster is trying to assault me, but I'm prepared now. No more ale for me! I need full focus! I will not let this ghost come and disturb me for his own entertainment!"
Karnech: "The game. It is on. Yes. A game. A fun game. A game. yes." Kharnech would attempt to instill an image of pure horror and dread into the Undead Priest's mind, bringing his darkest deepest fears to manifest!
(Paracelsus wins roll.)
Paracelsus laughs and yells: "A feebyle spirite, thou art! Moue therefore, and shew thyselfe!" He pulls out his dagger and carves another sigil into the air, casting [Smite] on the presence.
(Paracelsus wins roll.)
Kharnech would be quite smitten by Paracelsus.
Paracelsus: "Moue creature! And obey the livyng breeth!"
Kharnech would once more attempt to take control over Wallace.
(Wallace wins roll.)
Paracelsus: "Be thou ne by a wayke spirite shoke, M'Lorde! ...A wyke spirite indeed!"
Wallace: "THE SPIRIT IS NOTHING AGAINST ME!"
Kharnech: From outside of the door a voice would be heard --no, three voices would be heard; speaking in unison, sounding as if they
poke from the bottom of a well: "So. Is that so, Wallace? Yes. Wallace. It is not so. No. You are afraid."
Wallace: "So, the spectre decided to show himself!"
Paracelsus holds out his dagger toward the door.
Kharnech: "Your time. Yes. Your time. Wallace. Wallace. Yes. It will come. Soon. Very soon. Our offer. It is gone. ...Yes. Gilneas will be dead."
Wallace kicks up the door and rushes out, only to be met by nothing; Paracelsus follows.
Paracelsus raises his dagger in the air. The energies seem to have dispersed.
Wallace: "Coward... Peasant... Rat..."
Paracelsus puts his hand on Wallace's shoulder. "M'Lorde..."
Wallace stands silent in pure inner fury.