A hand with too-long fingers curls around the edge of house, each elongated joint working with unsettling grace. Above this almost alien hand, a bulging, milky eye reflects the dim light. Nothing else is visible of the creature in the deep shadows that it sticks to.
Even as the visitor on the porch is nearly nodding off while the story book is displayed, this thing stares with unblinking attention.
It waits until all of the other trick or treaters have departed before it emerges. The hem of its long, black robes trail over the grass, but it seems to be floating toward the porch. Wordlessly, it points one long, sickly purple finger at the make-shift storybook.
Even as the visitor on the porch is nearly nodding off while the story book is displayed, this thing stares with unblinking attention.
It waits until all of the other trick or treaters have departed before it emerges. The hem of its long, black robes trail over the grass, but it seems to be floating toward the porch. Wordlessly, it points one long, sickly purple finger at the make-shift storybook.
Aethaerraent wrote:
A hand with too-long fingers curls around the edge of house, each elongated joint working with unsettling grace. Above this almost alien hand, a bulging, milky eye reflects the dim light. Nothing else is visible of the creature in the deep shadows that it sticks to.
Even as the visitor on the porch is nearly nodding off while the story book is displayed, this thing stares with unblinking attention.
It waits until all of the other trick or treaters have departed before it emerges. The hem of its long, black robes trail over the grass, but it seems to be floating toward the porch. Wordlessly, it points one long, sickly purple finger at the make-shift storybook.
Even as the visitor on the porch is nearly nodding off while the story book is displayed, this thing stares with unblinking attention.
It waits until all of the other trick or treaters have departed before it emerges. The hem of its long, black robes trail over the grass, but it seems to be floating toward the porch. Wordlessly, it points one long, sickly purple finger at the make-shift storybook.
(I don't mean to be rude, but a d4 roll is needed.)
(Apologies, I thought I was joining an existing scene with someone already at the door.)
rolled 1d4 and got 4
More footsteps are heard approaching the door, along with a few complaints of 3 voices. "Fine, I'll answer it!" Anna would shout. She opened the door to see her new guest. Anna stood there nervously, slowly looking up at the Illithid, feeling a bit intimidated. "U-Ummm... Can I help you?"
The creature's eyes have no pupils. They are pure white, lidless, and it is very hard to tell where those unblinking eyes are truly looking... But right now it clearly focused on Anna, one long finger pointed toward her.
You have a book here that I have not seen before. I wish to possess this story. it "speaks," though in truth it produces no noise. Rather, its voice echoes directly in the mind, genderless and without emotion.
You have a book here that I have not seen before. I wish to possess this story. it "speaks," though in truth it produces no noise. Rather, its voice echoes directly in the mind, genderless and without emotion.
"Could you excuse me for a minute?" Anna asked meekly before shutting the door with full force. Over the course of the next few minutes the front entrance was now a source for multiple whispers, some calm and others terrified. The voices discussed about the matter at hand, about how what they consider to be a Lovecraftian horror at their doorstep demanding something of theirs. "It's fine, it's fine!" Anna rose her voice. "I'll just give the thing!" The door slowly opened. Anna, now holding the portraits, carefully handed them, as if not to offend Aethaerraent, all while thinking to herself "Please don't hurt me."
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