You awaken in a dank cell, lying on the ground. The stone is cold on your skin. The last thing you remember is seeing a strange man, a human in black clothing, watching you from a distance. You could have sworn you saw his left eye flash in a strange, artificial way, and the next thing you know, you are here. You are wearing whatever clothing you last remember being in, but your equipment is not in the cell.
As you look around, your cell is but one in a row of cells lining the wall, segmented by iron bars. Dim torches line the wall opposite the cells, and there is one large wooden door on that same wall, and on the left side of the door is a chest. There are no windows, and the air has a strange, metallic smell.
Looking left and right, you find that there are others in the neighboring cells. There are six cells in all, stretching from the east to the west. Zinnia is in the far west cell, then Zokar, then Lutzal, then Yafira, then Yoru, then a thin and weak looking human slumped against the far corner of the wall.
What do you do?
Last Edit: Aug 30, 2017 23:27:52 GMT -6 by wanderer
Yoru scanned her new surroundings and saw an elf and human beside her but she doesn't speak elfish so she decided to turn the human. But still too shocked to speak, Yoru went to search for anything lying on the ground that she could throw to catch his attention before asking what is going on.
Last Edit: Aug 30, 2017 23:29:48 GMT -6 by wanderer
Luce--technically Lutzal, but she prefers to ignore that fact--lets out a colorful string of swears in Draconic which sound rather like someone hacking and choking up a cough. Then she pushes herself off the stone floor and tests the door to her cell, hoping it will just swing open. If not . . . . well, she can always test her acid breath against the iron bars. There would be some satisfaction in that, even if it proves futile.
Last Edit: Aug 30, 2017 23:34:41 GMT -6 by wanderer
Zinnia looks the weak, thin man over, trying to discern who or what he is. He is wrapped in a cloak that seems little more than a large rag. His hair is mostly black, but is peppered with white, especially in a stripe above each ear. She can see his face, and notices the beard that seems to be growing ragged and spotty, as if he were normally clean shaven and had recently been forced to give up the habit.
Currently, he is resting in the corner, his eyes are closed and his breathing is slow. Due to the cloak, no information can be gained by his physical appearance, other than the fact that he is rather thin.
Last Edit: Aug 30, 2017 23:39:46 GMT -6 by wanderer
Of course the door doesn't just swing open. That would be too easy. Luce huffs and then addresses the orc--no, wait, half-orc--to the one side of her and the elf to the other. (Might as well use Elven--everyone understands that, right?)
"Stand back. I'm going to test the acid of my breath against these bars." Assuming people are out of the way, she'll suck in a lungful of air and then unleash her breath.
As the Dragonborn begins to breathe in, the man in the corner's eyes widen. "Don't!" he yells out, but it is too late. The Dragonborn's breath, a black, corrosive acid, spews forth, coating both the cell bars in front of her and the wall further beyond, including the chest beside the wooden door. Steam hisses from everything the acid touches as it begins to corrode and destroy
In a few moments, the acid will become inert and safe to touch, but until then, it will continue eating away at the bars and the chest on the other side. The bars are becoming obviously weaker.
"What have you done?" the man says, scrambling as if trying to get away from his cell door. "They'll hear. They'll come!"
Last Edit: Aug 30, 2017 23:48:43 GMT -6 by wanderer
Nessa Arandur: soooo, I'm considering another RPG soon. We may be silent, but we're still writing!
Oct 4, 2019 22:04:08 GMT -6
bilance: nope I still pop in from time to time
May 14, 2019 8:55:21 GMT -6
Tglassy: The small town of Ash, a haven for refugees from the fall of a great city of legend, Is now empty of the life that had briefly touched it when those refugees first appeared.
Mar 22, 2019 15:49:58 GMT -6
Tglassy: Wind blows through the abandoned doors, tumbleweeds roll across the deserted roads as vines begin their creep up the walls of what used to be a bustling town square.
Mar 22, 2019 15:48:35 GMT -6
Raveneye: Whoa. Forgot to check in recently.
Jan 29, 2019 9:10:58 GMT -6
beesauce: the ones that paralyze. i had an accident. Sprained neck, pinched nerve. Lost feeling in my legs. Nightmare's IRL
Dec 10, 2018 14:39:07 GMT -6
bilance: Nice to hear from you again bee. what kind of rabbit holes have you been jumping in
Dec 10, 2018 2:04:28 GMT -6
beesauce: dead alive bilance
Dec 10, 2018 0:06:35 GMT -6
bilance: hello anyone still here?
Dec 9, 2018 23:14:28 GMT -6
beesauce: Raveneye. I was banned permanently from Writersbeat.com. Online Literature is not a great site for communication, in the same way Writersbeat was dying and now upgraded, looks great. Now that I'm banned it can go back to being annoying w/same ol'toxins/sry
Nov 21, 2018 13:01:00 GMT -6