Eternity RPC Board
09-24-2018, 08:29 PM
Picking her way through the field of flowers and setting her feet exactly where Nevina’s had just been proved challenging in the blue wash of nightfall which seemed to mute greens, yellows and oranges into a blur of violets and indigos. Elke’s eyes strained as the crisp distinction between shadow and highlight bled into something fuzzy, and she found it necessary to strike a balance between rushing to place her foot down before the bowed heads of the blossoms that had crumpled under Nevina’s weight sprung back up and taking her time enough to not misstep. The thought of what may happen if she wasn’t precise enough for the witch’s liking was enough to distract from the saccharine smell that lingered, at least.
Elke had noticed Nevina’s use of the flowers and her instrument, and was curious to know more. The occasional twinkle of warm spots of light from the end of the woman’s flute was something novel — no one had ever explained this to Elke. The mage-in-training deduced that it was some sort of magic cast to provide additional clarity, maybe revealing physically booby-trapped areas of the garden, maybe revealing enchantments cast on the flowers, or maybe more simply amplifying Nevina’s ability to see light in the dark. She would ask, but not now. Now, the sense of danger was imminent, and Elke at least knew enough to be quiet.
She had thought for a moment about casting a light-producing spell of her own, but in noticing how Nevina had incorporated the blossoms from the garden, wondered if using the garden against itself was requisite in this case. Elke had been hesitant to just pluck one of the flowers, even if it was one of the variety that Nevina had used. And she’d felt equally hesitant to use one of her own charms if she couldn’t be sure it was safe in this environment, although stumbling around in the dark didn’t seem a great deal more favorable. By the time she’d decided that a simple light-casting spell couldn’t be that harmful, Nevina had took the pleasure of making the decision away from her and had set them off toward the witch’s home.
As they approached the structure — which was only summarily true; sometimes, they moved away from it, but in general, they had taken more steps toward than away from it — Elke tried to take in its details in the moments where Nevina paused. In what must have been a trick of the shadows, the cottage seemed to be morphing ever so slightly each time Elke looked at it: at one point, it was tiny, barely the size of a curing shed. Another glance and it could have contained no less than a kitchen, a bedroom, and a sitting room. One time the window was centered on the wall, and another it was offset to the left. Elke didn’t trust the amorphous, fluctuating thing, and didn’t trust that her eyes were taking it in correctly, finally deciding that it was best to keep her vision mostly on Nevina’s footsteps.
She hadn’t expected to have to remain so silent for so long given how close they’d already been to the far side of the garden when they’d stumbled upon it, and the voice that sliced through the night caught her so off-guard that she let slip a brief squeal before she was able to clap her hand over her mouth.
“Nevvy?” Elke thought, turning her wide eyes to her companion.
“You know her?” she whispered to the elf. “Can we trust her? Should we go in?”
Elke 1d20 rolled for a total of: 4 (4)
Elke had noticed Nevina’s use of the flowers and her instrument, and was curious to know more. The occasional twinkle of warm spots of light from the end of the woman’s flute was something novel — no one had ever explained this to Elke. The mage-in-training deduced that it was some sort of magic cast to provide additional clarity, maybe revealing physically booby-trapped areas of the garden, maybe revealing enchantments cast on the flowers, or maybe more simply amplifying Nevina’s ability to see light in the dark. She would ask, but not now. Now, the sense of danger was imminent, and Elke at least knew enough to be quiet.
She had thought for a moment about casting a light-producing spell of her own, but in noticing how Nevina had incorporated the blossoms from the garden, wondered if using the garden against itself was requisite in this case. Elke had been hesitant to just pluck one of the flowers, even if it was one of the variety that Nevina had used. And she’d felt equally hesitant to use one of her own charms if she couldn’t be sure it was safe in this environment, although stumbling around in the dark didn’t seem a great deal more favorable. By the time she’d decided that a simple light-casting spell couldn’t be that harmful, Nevina had took the pleasure of making the decision away from her and had set them off toward the witch’s home.
As they approached the structure — which was only summarily true; sometimes, they moved away from it, but in general, they had taken more steps toward than away from it — Elke tried to take in its details in the moments where Nevina paused. In what must have been a trick of the shadows, the cottage seemed to be morphing ever so slightly each time Elke looked at it: at one point, it was tiny, barely the size of a curing shed. Another glance and it could have contained no less than a kitchen, a bedroom, and a sitting room. One time the window was centered on the wall, and another it was offset to the left. Elke didn’t trust the amorphous, fluctuating thing, and didn’t trust that her eyes were taking it in correctly, finally deciding that it was best to keep her vision mostly on Nevina’s footsteps.
She hadn’t expected to have to remain so silent for so long given how close they’d already been to the far side of the garden when they’d stumbled upon it, and the voice that sliced through the night caught her so off-guard that she let slip a brief squeal before she was able to clap her hand over her mouth.
“Nevvy?” Elke thought, turning her wide eyes to her companion.
“You know her?” she whispered to the elf. “Can we trust her? Should we go in?”
Elke 1d20 rolled for a total of: 4 (4)