The bard jumped out of his seat, "What conspiracy is this?" Scratching his head, the gnome looked at the cleric, "May I take a closer look at your chess piece? Does it have any magical properties? I'd very much like to hold it, if I might?"
Lorat looked at the Dragonborn, "The name of the clan? It has been over half a millennia since I saw them, and they were a fairly new clan at the time. Still settling on the name, I believe. I believe were considering the phrase 'Gleaming Gold' or some such. Golds can be very pretentious, their Dragonborn included."
"I..." Yafira caught herself. She didn't want to wake Yoru by raising her voice. "I wouldn't suggest touching them, Reggo. I got a good look at the demon's knight through Detect Magic. I clearly saw the enchantment on it and Liam's rook. Whatever kind of magic it is, it doesn't belong to any of the known schools. I'd wager that it -- doesn't originate from this plane of existence. There's no telling what would happen if an unassociated like me and you tries to hold one."
"From my experience, nothing happens unless you are chosen by the piece. Even then, it isn't some mystical occurrence. You just don't want to put it away. And you can't lose it, even if you try. If anyone else holds it, you get anxious, but that's about it. Whatever magic is in the piece, it is very little." "The compulsion for me to hold on to my knight faded over two centuries ago. I have left it in that box ever since. I have the feeling that my time has passed, and the Knight will choose someone else. I would not be surprised if it turned out to be one of you."
Yafira takes out her ink and quill, trying to not to disturb Yoru. She starts making notes in her spellbook. She doesn't want to forget the details Lorat shared. The pieces have minds of their own? One piece can have multiple -- masters, hosts, owners... Curious. Very curious.
Grave faced, the gnome decided to not touch the clerics chess piece, "Thank you, but I think I know my limits when it comes to possible magical addictions," he waved his hand away, "Us gnomes can be mighty sensitive," the bard smiled.
Sinking back into the oversized chair, Reggo began to think out-loud (as most gnomes do), "I wonder what'd happen if we collected all the pieces? Perhaps it's madness. What if it's a puzzle and the only way is to collect? Collect? ---" his eyes began to glaze over, "What if the room imploded? No, it can't be a weapon, what if it's a map?--
the gnome's fingers began to slowly titter like a tinkerer in thoughts too deep for words... staring at the wall he nearly forgot where he was-- swimming in thoughts.
"As for the dragon, I assume it's dead, though I have no body to show for it. When I struck that last blow, a deep gash across her neck, she fell into a crevice in the mountains, which then proceeded to crumble down on top of her. If she did not die then and there, she was buried alive. But who knows? Dragons are powerful beings. Perhaps she survived somehow."
"Chess is a game, I'm familiar with. What if we placed the pieces on a board or... what if we represent the piece we carry? I'm a priest so the bishop seems logical. Yet, I for the most part control what I do, so if 'we' are the actual chessman how would we know if we were moved?"
When she finished writing, Yafira said softly, "Seek the king. Fear the queen. That's the only thing I can figure. If this game is even halfway similar to the one we know, then the kings are key to ending it." She looked up Lorat and said, "But if what you say is true, that a piece can choose a new master somehow -- well that complicates things, doesn't it?"
Reggo's eyes shot open, remembering the beast from inside the cave, "Let's hope we don't run into the Queen!"
In his excitement a piece of his cake fell to the carpeted floor. Embarrassed the bard quickly bent down to retrieve the crumbs, and hoped Lorat's wife didn't see the mess. Smiling, he licked a bit of frosting from his dirty finger and spat out a piece of hair. Disgusted, he looked to see if anyone had witnessed his uncouth behavior.
Luce almost doesn't register Reggo's words. She hasn't heard much--not after the information about the black dragon. (Nor has she been paying attention to any fallen cake.) But at length the question catches up with her.
"I'm the only black dragonborn of my clan--my gleaming gold clan of awesomeness." She snorts. "It would seem that I've discovered the identity of one of my ancestors."
"You do realize what you're implying. That we a capture a dragon." Assuming this dragon is still alive. Yafira didn't say that aloud though. Luce looked uncomfortable enough as it was. "And we thought a necromancer was the worst of our problems."
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