Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » We Unlucky Few | CLOSED

The Hanged Man wrinkled his nose when he looked down at the puddle. "I've not a clue, lord." But there were more tests to be conducted. He reached into his cloak and procured a leather flask, coated in beeswax to waterproof it. With his teeth he popped out its cork, then upended it to spill a bit of whatever foul-smelling concoction was within into the puddle. After seeing what happened, he took a swig of it for himself. His face screwed up as he swallowed the swill. "Maybe it is a portal," he said. "We could perchance tie something to a string and--and lower it inside ..."

Thankfully, she resists the sudden urge to laugh aloud. Though not because any of this is humorous, no! If only because this King practically read her mind. "Yes, very anticlimactic.." Crimson hues lift gradually to meet Sol's eyes. "I am unsure. But surely, it cannot be a simple coincidence? Not with everything that has happened already." The young ruler seems to think aloud, immediately grateful for Hangy's suggestion. "Yes, we can see how far this..puddle absorbs that way. I have string somewhere.." Voice trails off now, turning towards Dembala before she opens up that wide satchel. She digs within for another moment or two before producing a ball of blue yarn. Next, she scoops up a pebble at random to tie onto one end, taking a step forward. Unless anyone aims to halt her, Carabia gradually lowers this pebble into the black pool below.

The concoction poured by the Hanged Man reacted almost the same way . The surface held for a moment, but the liquid broke it and was swallowed by the blackness, not even changing the colour of the puddle. Just how deep was this thing?
It didn't seem like they'd find their answer. Once the pebble breaks the surface, it sinks easier, drawing the yarn after it. And it kept sinking. And sinking. It seemed as if Carabia could reach the end of her yarn ball if she so desired.

(Saw this was open, sorry if I'm taking liberties!)


Brolin was nearly reaching the point of drowning, brain and thought barely registering that limp body had ceased to put up a fight with the rolling tide. Mind focused on the slow and methodical descent of his soon-to-be corpse, forcing eyelids open in the harsh salt water to offer one last gaze upward to the sinking glow of a ship set ablaze that he had been ejected from.

I'm okay with this.. The sinking Irishman thought to himself, studying the fading surface of the ocean as it grew further.. and further.. until nothing. Pure darkness- aside from a strand of yarn that danced in the brown and gray curles of his lengthy mane. Had it been there all along? Weakly he wrapped it arounder his wrist, tugging down harshly to try and jostle it free maybe? He only served to tangle himself up in it, mis-judging the length.

The attempts drained his last bit of energy, body going limp when consciousness faded.

Sol watched in quiet curiosity as Carabia lowered the stone into the dark liquid's surface. It must've been pretty deep, he thought, as she had been lowering an astonishing amount of rope into just this small puddle.
"This is weird..." He said, more to himself than anyone else. "I'm not to sure what to make of this. Try pulling the stone out, and if it is okay, then we will see what to do about this strange little puddle. I can't sense any magic coming off of it, so either what ever made this hid the magic like I am with us, or it is something entirely different and more dangerous than magic altogether..." He sat off to one side of the black liquid, looking over to Carabia and the Hanged Man, noticing that Ver and Aya where coming up and quickly jumped up, calling out to them.
"Hey Ver! Aya! Come quick, we believe we have stumbled across a portal of sorts. But watch out, there is a magical field surrounding us blocking all sources of magic from entering." He said, gesturing to the faint blue-fire tornado surrounding them.

The Hanged Man remained quiet as he watched Carabia rig up the little makeshift plumb and lower it into the darkness. He took a final swig of his drink before corking and stowing the bottle, then drew his falchion again, prepared for whatever might happen ...

"We heard a... noise. What happened?" asked Ver as he and Aybilla crested the hill. His eyes found the black spot quickly, like it was a hole in the ground, and he murmured, "What the hell...?"

The yarn began to fall quickly, then slow, then quicken, almost like it was being moved around somewhere in the abyss. The movement cast heavy ripples on the shiny surface.

Dembala, the mighty lion soon aims to sit down at Carabia's side. She offers the present King a simple nod in understanding. "Yes, perhaps some of this black liquid may cling upon pulling the stone free.." With that, both hands gloved in white tighten, expression focused as she slowly rolls the yarn as before. In doing so, the stone should eventually surface and pull free from this strange puddle, assuming nothing halts her. With Hangy growing quiet, the young Devil only casts him a thankful smile for his protective stance, crimson eyes drifting to rest upon Ver now. "Oh, hello you two! We never found what created that noise, just that we found this bizarre puddle when we tried to investigate its' source."

(Do you mind if I join this rp?)

As the string was pulled up, the loose knot floating around Brolin's lithe form tightened around his body enough to take hold as he was pulled slowly yet purposefuly to surface.

If he was willingly yanked up and out, a dirty and unconscious gypsy would enter the groups swelling ranks- caked in whatever foul goo resided on the exterior layer of the mysterious portal. The thin longhaired man was visibly tattooed to an alarming degree on his visible limbs such as forearms and below his neck line, cryptic symbols and Gaelic terminology overlapping and scrawled in faded ink reaching to to a still chest and hidden beneath a very dirty one piece jumpsuit.

The soaked clothing bore no identifying marks or if it did, the presence of slime and black gunk disguised it. One clue of the man's origin would be hastily discovered- both ankles shackled together by irons bearing a chilling etching that read-

FUGITIVUS

((Pheonixheart, it's ok with me, but I can't answer for everyone else))

Sol stood as he saw the man start to break through the surface. He jumped up in shock and surprise, as he had no idea that of all things another person would be pulled out of this strange little black puddle.
"Um. I believe this answers the question about this being a portal..." He said, scarce believing what laid before his eyes as he stood just next to Carabia. He looked over to the Hanged Man, then over to Ver and Aya, finally resting his gaze back on this strange gypsy. He noticed the shackles around his ankles.
"Fugitivus..." He read aloud, although it was hard to read due to the presence of the black goo. "This man... Aye? Have you health, my good sir?" The king spoke clearly to the tattooed man now on the ground.

(Yes, you may! Welcome, both of you!)
(I think I'll close it up now, I've always said the more the merrier but I'll play it safe!)
(Also, Ver gets his own profile now :"^))

Brolin's tattoos were barely visible. The black goop clung thickly to his skin and hair and clothes, completely obscuring all colour of the yarn.
Ver took a step away, hang going to his mouth. "By the Gods," he whispered, then took two steps towards the man and knelt. "Is he alive? Are you alive?" He held his fingers as close to the newcomer's face as he dared and snapped twice, each motion lighting a small spark just out of range of his fingers. He turned to Sol quickly. "What is this black stuff?"

(Yay! Thanks!)
Phoenixheart didn't remember how she got to where she was. She woke up on the cold, hard earth. Her face and turquoise dress with an orange flame pattern at the bottom were streaked with dirt, and what seemed like blood and she had a few scratches, as well as her bright red hair coming out of the braid that it was thrown up in, giving it a more wild look than it did before, but she couldn't care less. She stood up and looked around. She could see that there was a hill nearby, so she decided to climb it to see if she could get a better view of her surroundings. As she climbed, she saw that there were human-like figures on the other side as well as a lion. Curious, she hesitantly approached the group, her wings fluttering and her red and green eyes wide with curiosity.

Sol let Ver pass to the man on the ground.
"That black stuff? We aren't to sure; we think it may be a portal, a remnant of whatever magic was used on these people. As for waking him up, I believe I can help..." Sol took his sword and raised it in the air, and as he did so,the vortex faded away and magic once again was possible in the immidiate area. Sol cast Awaken on Brolin.

As he raised the reflective mirror blade into the air, Sol spoke in an ancient language.
"The Moon Goddess light shine on thee in order, for thine time has not yet come. Awaken!" As he spoke, a soft blue light began to envelope both Brolin and Sol, casting down from a single beam shining down from the heavens. He slammed the sword into the ground, causing an intense flash of white light, momentarily blinding everyone. Although it didn't make a sound, it left everyone in the immidiate area ears ringing.

Phoenixheart had almost reached the group and was about to call out to them when she saw one person raise what looked like a sword into the air, say something, and slam it down into the ground. She then shielded her eyes as a flash of bright light that was caused by the sword being slammed into the ground momentarily blinded her. She then made a bit of annoyed noise as she noticed that her ears were ringing and she continued to walk towards the group.

The Hanged Man gaped as a man's head crowned from the surface of the puddle. The black ooze wasn't obviously harming him, so the swordsman let his shield fall to the ground with a quiet *boff* and knelt to pull Brolin up into the grass. The ooze clung to his gauntlets. "Nary a breath," he muttered, but the radiant king was already handling that side of things. The light made him cringe and throw up a hand, and he was momentarily stunned.

Rosy lips part in nothing short of downright fear, for the last thing she expected was to pull a literal person free from this mysterious puddle. "By the Twins.." The young Devil seems to curse beneath a quiet breath, graceful steps quick to hop over onto Brolin's other side, now facing Ver. Formal gown of green billows around her upon dropping to her knees, gloved hands reaching out towards the unconscious fellow.

She's about to try and help, when instead the King seems to blind everyone present. "Tinali..!" Both arms rise to cross over her face out of reaction alone, understandably stunned for another moment or two. "What on Earth was that?" The young ruler asks of Sol, tone confused though not at all irritable. Yet she doesn't wait for an answer, instead lowering her face to leave her ear near Brolin's mouth, praying that she hears him draw even the faintest of breaths. Given all this sudden chaos, Carabia hasn't yet spotted the approaching redhead. The huge Lion at her side draws closer to Cara protectively.

Phoenixheart had finally gotten to the group, her wings still fluttering, her red and green eyes scanned the group before noticing that there was a person covered in black ooze as well as a puddle of the same substance. Hesitantly she spok "u-um, excuse me..."

On the grass and now pulled out of the disgusting vortex, Brolin appeared but a limp and drowned vessel as Hanged Man and Ver set to task on reviving him. Effort seemed futile until Sol's spell forced itself unto him- eyes jarring open with mirrored fear and muted last-thoughts of a drowning man.

Panic set in, mad eyes darting and rolling up at the group while bird-like chest heaved up and down with the presence of gasping breath. An unfortunate first impression developed with his first exhale- a geyser of vomit and salt water expelling itself from his lips an on to anyone that didn't get away from him fast enough.

Unless held down, Brolin would toss and shivver over the grassy surface- harshly cursing and vomiting the last bit's of his foul stomach contents at the feet of his saviors. Thick chain and brackets that bound his twiggy ankles clanged and rattled loudy while he convulsed and rolled in the dirt. Every few breaths he'd cough and hack, but eventually he'd settle and try to prop himself up against Hangy's fallen shield.

"Jus'.. jus' let me catch first breath ya?" The man grunted through coughing fits, words impatient and muffled by a thick Irish accent- of South Armaugh origin to the keen ear. His eyes met the rest of the group that was surely looking down at the noise-making man, studying them with each with hazed whites in his eyes from nearly drowning.

Phoenixheart watched with a concerned expression as one of the men vomited on the ground. She still hesitantly stood a few feet away from the group, not knowing what to do in these types of situations. She didn't want to risk scaring any of the people and having the whole group after her. Nobody had seemed to notice when she had approached and said something, so she decided that they were too caught up in whatever was happening at the moment.