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Author Topic: LoO - New Prometheus - Dagon (Headless) - Da01  (Read 6636 times)

edster

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« on: January 18, 2018, 12:52:54 AM »
PROLOGUE

The sun struggles up over another beautiful day and Dagon is glad in his own suspicious way...

It wasn't easy finding the road out of Osmon. First, it took Dagon a year to discover that the ritual to open the road was written in the stars on only one night of the year. Then he had to wait three years until the skies were clear on that one night. Fortunately Osmon isn't the worst world to spend some time. Unfortunatly Osmon was almost the worst place to spend a few years.

Once away and on the road he only managed a few steps before tripping on an inconveniently loose cobblestone and tumbling off into some unknown dark world.

Amid the sounds of birds singing and squawking, the sunrise reveals an Arcadian land of gentle hills, grassy plains, and copses of friendly trees. Looking closer he discovers the artifiallity of the place: the grass is astroturf, the trees pressed plastic shopping bags, water bottles, and painted styrofoam. Between the seams of the turf he sees that the hills are just mounds of garbage. In the light he sees that even the birds are cheap windup toys.

Unlike Osmon, all signs point to ths world being easy to leave. On a nearby hill, a large neon sign points to the East and "The Way Out" is spelled out in red and green lights.

Walking that way he feels the sudden intrusion into his mind by another being. From his thoughts and memories are pulled out and flash in front of his minds eye. Within seconds hundreds of images of all sorts of worlds cold and warm, wet and dry, inhabited and empty, cross his mind's eye. The intruder is searching for a specific memory, Dagon realizes.

It eventually ends and his mind is released back into his control with only a voice giving a hearty laugh and the words "Thank you, my friend." and the image of a smling Zeus left behind.

The sign did in actuality point towards a cliff face, this one made of real stone, where petroglyphs gave the instructions to find the road and leave this place.

Feel free to write up something of Dagons travels from this point until the beginning of the campaign either in the world of Jorian's Trojan War or anywhere else you'd like.
« Last Edit: January 18, 2018, 12:56:45 AM by edster »

Headless

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« Reply #1 on: January 19, 2018, 02:26:27 AM »
I scanned through my own memories.  It didn't take long to find/remember what he was looking for.  He had been fixated on certain pneumatic qualities of the inhabitants there.  
"Well that makes sense," And I was about to continue on my way when I saw it.  A discarded bucket of chicken blowing along the astro turf.  The Sky Fathers smilling face on the side.  Just like the last image he sent, his thank you.  I picked it up and considered what it ment.  At first I considered that that image was burned onto my brain, but then I looked around this place.  I considered the way I got here.  This was a cheep place.  Cheep and easy.  Disposable.  Malleable.  I had been diverted into it, my mind probed and discarded far too easily even for him.  But he couldn't keep me here, couldn't trap me.  This places wasn't real enough for that.  I recalled a vist to a shaman named Josphe Camble.  Principle of correspondence he called it, or was it reinforcement?  Anyway, this places was cheep, easy, and empty.  He wasn't here. I doubt anyone else was either if they had been he couldn't have manipulated everything so easily.  But the longer I stayed the realer this place would become.  The effect would be stronger with him.  

I considered his destination.  He could be there a while.  

I started my journey.

Headless

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« Reply #2 on: January 28, 2018, 02:27:27 AM »
I had been out of touch for a while so I was in no hurry.  I travelled a my own pace. Stopping often to visit friends.  I love gossip and rumors and as always I keep my ear open for signs and portents.

Eventually I crossed a blue white glacier and found the entrance to the crevasse that must be there, it was peaceful traveling through the ice.  The river beside me gurgled pleasantly.  When I emerged I new I was in the proper realm.  

My first stop was a Dwarf who had once caught star light in a necklace for me.  A gift for a Naiad who lived in a subterranean sea.  He wasn't overly happy to see me Dwarves don't like surprise visters, you wouldn't either if you were know to craft the most beautiful treasurers in 7 realms.  But Dwarves like gifts, giving and receiving them.  I had a Conch for him.  A gift form the Naiad.  "Listen to this and you can hear her sing."  That warmed his welcome and I spent a night or two in his company.  He loved the conch and spent long hours listening to it, when I left I told him, "if you can talk to her, let me know.  Right now it just plays for you, but if it changes, if you speak and she answers, let me know.  It may never come to pass but if the magic of this places becomes strong, send word to me in the usual way."

As I made my way to my next stop I considered my life choices and how I had ended up a interdemintional match maker.  

The troll was simpler.  Northern trolls are known for good hospitality, up until they try to eat you.
« Last Edit: January 28, 2018, 02:41:18 AM by Headless »

edster

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« Reply #3 on: January 29, 2018, 01:11:18 AM »
[[OOC: If you want to keep writing about Dagon's traveling and scheming just let me know when you want me to respond. Or I will jump in if I need to get D somewhere.]]

Headless

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« Reply #4 on: January 29, 2018, 02:02:42 AM »
Nope.  He's done scheming for now.

edster

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« Reply #5 on: February 01, 2018, 01:29:52 AM »
There were rumours and legends about the troll armies during the time of the northern invasion when Zeus and his allies had to repel strange invaders from the winter lands. Among the invaders was the Great Chief Lakkinnen. Most thought the giant troll was killed by Zeus' Thunderbolt but a few knew of the secret that Lakkinnen was too powerful to be defeated in combat but was imprisoned by the Olympians.

Dagon followed the rumours, spoke with the priests in the temple of Syrinx, read the writings on the temple walls, and made his way through the treacherous tunnels and crevasses until he reached the long-hidden cavern holding Lakkinnen.

The giant troll, at least 20' in height - although his actual height is difficult to tell while he sits hunched on his rock - was imprisoned in a sphere of violet light which pulsed faintly and smaller paths of while light created a tiling of random shapes across its' surface. The troll was gnawing on a lamb leg and looked up in surprise as Dagon entered the chamber.

"So, child of Olympus, you have finally come to deal, yes?" he asks.

Headless

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« Reply #6 on: February 02, 2018, 09:28:56 PM »
I stand for a short time contemplating the giant and his prison.

"Child of Olympus, thats a strange thing to call me. Shall I call you son of Ymir."

I sling my pack off an set up a little cook stove to boil water.  Covering a likely rock with an old fur for a seat.  Always buy your camping gear from an advanced civilisation and your comforts from a primitive one.  

I pull out a wine skin.  "Plum brandy? Its a bit sweet for lamb but..."

edster

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« Reply #7 on: February 04, 2018, 01:49:44 AM »
The great troll shrugs. "I sense the taint of Olympus upon you and so I name you until proper introductions can be made."


"Brandy, no matter the flavor, would be welcome. I haven't tasted a drop in all the years of this imprisonment. Just water dripping from the walls and Hephaestus' sheep delivery system. Would you happen to know the count of years?" he asks.

Dagon can see that with the glowing sphere there is a long slide coming from high in the wall down to the cavern floor. A lever is attached to one side. It seems that by pulling the lever a sheep is released to slide into the prison. Although where the sheep are coming from and who is loading them from up above is undeducable inside the cave.

Headless

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« Reply #8 on: February 04, 2018, 10:51:27 AM »
"Call me Rook then.  As for years its hard to say, hundreds? More? Its been quite some time, you weren't easy to find. Most think you died."

I throw coffee on the cook stove to perk, and dig some jerky.  If I am here long I think I will make bread.

"How do I pass you the brandy, that glowing sphere looks innocent but I would hate to waste good booze."

edster

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« Reply #9 on: February 05, 2018, 01:00:21 AM »
There is a light in the Troll's eye. A reflection from the stove or maybe a glint from his thoughts.

"In my hundreds or maybe thousands of years in here I have come to reason that Hephaestus built this place to keep me in. And maybe to keep others of my kind out. But would he have considered that a fellow Olympian would try to break the prison? Back then you all were in accord in the wars against my kind and he wouldn't suspect that one of you would try to enliven my dailiy meal.

"I believe that you could simply pass your hand through the barrier and hand me the drink."

Headless

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« Reply #10 on: February 05, 2018, 02:15:42 PM »
"Hmmm, possible. Let me examine the barrier."

I busy myself making soup, I fill a pot of water, cut up some celery onions garlic and cabbage.  A bit of the jerky and a hand full of grain and set it on the stove to simmer.  I pour myself a cup of coffee and settle on my stone to watch the barrier.  ego

Then when the soup is smelling good I switch my attention to him.  Probe his psychic defenses while he is distracted by the soup and the coffee and the brandy and the freedom.

edster

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« Reply #11 on: February 11, 2018, 07:31:50 PM »
Lakkinnen's attention is taken by the smells of the food.

"No one could turn down a lifetime of free mutton," the great troll says in a half whisper, "but there needs to be meals of different foods to intrigue the stomach and vitals."

Studying the barrier Dagon can tell that it was created by the Olympians but not who created it. It might be as the creature says and Dagon could easily pass through the barrier but such an action might damage the spell. The troll has the vestiges of a poweful mind but years of isolation and the distraction of the food and drink have made his thoughts erratic and potentailly dangerous to one who would try for direct mental contact.

Headless

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« Reply #12 on: February 12, 2018, 02:51:09 PM »
A touch might damage it?  Then I might be able to disassemble it.  I continue to examine ego with a mind to disrupt the spell.  He I originally though he was going to pull me, now I think maybe the whole thing would unravel at my touch.

"What will you do when you leave this place, spawn of Ymir?  Storm crows are gathering at a place called Illium.  The gods go to war and I would have a boon from them."

"Serve me on the field and I will free you."
Ego gain eye contact, probe? If he agrees I lay a light compulsion, I have the Idea that its easier to dominate someone if they say they will do the thing you ask.

edster

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« Reply #13 on: February 14, 2018, 03:03:11 AM »
"It would be good to stretch my legs again and to taste the blood of a god..." The Troll mulls the idea over in his fractured mind.

"If we were to lose I doubt that I would get such fine accommodations a second time...but the chance for vengeance and to lead my brethren into battle again...."

He still continues to weigh his options while sniffing more often and longer at the smells from the soup bowl.

"What gods can you promise me? It's for Zeus and Hephaestus that I'm saving my greatest wrath. Who else will be met at Illium?"

Headless

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« Reply #14 on: February 14, 2018, 12:08:10 PM »
Promise you?  What can you promise me.  Or perhaps you like not being able to stand up straight.  I promise you grapes and olives and man flesh.  If you wish to cower in your cell for another thousand years you have my permission.