Ghosts, Living and Past
Jun 5, 2022 5:01:29 GMT
Jaezred Vandree, Velania Kalugina, and 1 more like this
Post by Delilah Daybreaker on Jun 5, 2022 5:01:29 GMT
The following takes place sometime between the 18th & 27th of the Melting 1499 D.R.
A voice appears in Delilah’s mind, while she is in the midst of a conversation with one of Daring Height’s elites, attempting to convince them to get off their ass and help with the invasion preparation. This particular snob is proving to be a bit more robust to her scare tactics compared to some of the others she has “spoken to” and in their fright is running away from her, probably towards some form of help.
“Daughter, I appear to have become a little stuck… I thought I had found a lead about Lillibut. Instead I found only a trap.”
Hot on its heels is another sending:
“It wasn’t being watched, but it might take a while for me to escape. Are you ok? Did you find a solution to your curse?”
The voice carries with it frustration and anger, but also the steady current of concern that Kurtz has shown for his daughter since their first meeting.
“No,” she responds. “The scholar I talked to is tactfully withholding information. With the Dawnlands about to be invaded by Gith, the Academy is in lockdown.”
Her frustration matches his unmistakably, with the worry hidden away. She cannot focus on it. If she does, she’ll freeze, and she cannot afford to do that.
“The Gith? What in the Hells has brought those astral pirates to the Dawnlands? Cannot Lady Oziah ‘convince’ the scholars? Surely they see the importance?”
Delilah laughs darkly. “Oh she tried. They’re just more stubborn. I’m making use of my curse by scaring people instead – in preparation, of course. Can’t do much else.”
Flippant and unfeeling, a great distraction tactic from what she is really feeling. Her father probably sees right through it.
He pretends not to see it. He can’t help and it hurts him so he avoids the extra pain.
“I wish I could help you too. The Gith have Dragons, they struck a deal long ago and the Reds answer their calls. Be careful.”
“I’m well aware.” Images of black and white tents engulfed in flames rise up in her mind. “I can escape with Oziah to Twilight if it comes to it.”
Always have the escape plan ready, just in case.
The noble is now pulling a ridiculously ornate rapier off the wall. Delilah almost snorts, nearly breaking the frightening illusion she has been imposing upon the middle aged, pompous prick. Perhaps she should come back another night to be the Ghost of Death to Come. Get him when he’s had more than a few drinks, really scare the shit out of him. Besides, her father is in trouble from trying to help her. She turns to leave.
“But father, you’re trapped. Do you need my help?”
The sound of his voice shifts to include slight resignation, a powerful man now forced to request assistance.
“I confess, I probably need somebody’s help. I have been trapped in a dungeon, seemingly warded against interplanar travel or teleportation and with other nefarious devices.”
She floats to a slow stop, Beastie in her shadow looking up at her. Neither liked the sound of that at all.
“It is across the seas, East of Waterdeep in a place called the Greypeak mountains.”
The portly nobleman has finally wrestled the purely ceremonial rapier out of its sheath, brandishes the dulled blade and charges Delilah. He swings down but it passes right through her. The force of his swing is too much that he trips on his own two feet and falls, tumbling ass over tea kettle, and into the main hallway with a resounding crash.
The girl of shadows doesn’t even glance at him. Beastie however materialises right in front of the nobleman’s face, tilting their head to the right as the man gives out a high pitched shriek. They playfully bat at the man’s bulbous nose before melting into vapour to appear on the wraith-like woman’s shoulder.
“Are you hurt? Any conditions? This place, what does it look like? Can you find somewhere safe before I come to save you?”
There is a teasing tone to the last question, but only slightly. The girl knows her father is proud, as all dragons are, and despite everything she does care, a lot more than she’s admitted except in one place.
A longer message sounds in Delilah’s head, a tiny pause between each an indication that her father is frustrated at only being able to communicate to his daughter in this limited fashion.
“Unhurt, except for my pride, I ventured into the home of a long dead dwarven wizard, rumoured to have a similar curse before death.”
Another sending, “The room I’m in is warded but I have ample provisions and can always make more. I am running out of castings of this spell.”
And another. “But I will send to you tomorrow directions that would allow you to find me. There remains some risk and danger, don’t come alone.”
There’s only the smallest of exasperated sighs.
“I appreciate your help but next time don’t go alone. I need you. If you were to die I’d-”
She stops herself. Damn her feelings getting the better of her. The thought of losing her father was not something she was going to dwell on. He said he was safe, so he was safe. For now. She can help get him out of this new bind he’s gotten himself into because this time it was in an attempt to help her. That made it different from the contract, right?
“I’ll await your word. Stay safe.”
A cat made of shadows nuzzles into her neck under her angular jaw.
“…he is a clever dragon… he has survived worse…”
Delilah quirks an eyebrow. The quivering nobleman still has his hands covering his head, muttering a prayer of some kind to the Coinmaiden.
“He’d better. If I have to bring him back from death itself I will.”
“…hmm…”
The shadow wreathed half-elf and not-cat look down their noses at the cowering nobleman. Delilah takes a floating step towards him, the high pitched, whining tone of his voice in prayer to banish all the evil spirits from this house getting more fervent.
She tries not to roll her eyes.
“Now, where were we?”
The man jumps and tries to push back but is already pressing his round backside against the mahogany wood panelled walls as far as it can be.
“Ah yes, the imminent invasion and what m’lord is going to do to help protect this little spot of land from becoming a crater in the history of the Dawnlands…”
Co-written with willjenkins 🐲
A voice appears in Delilah’s mind, while she is in the midst of a conversation with one of Daring Height’s elites, attempting to convince them to get off their ass and help with the invasion preparation. This particular snob is proving to be a bit more robust to her scare tactics compared to some of the others she has “spoken to” and in their fright is running away from her, probably towards some form of help.
“Daughter, I appear to have become a little stuck… I thought I had found a lead about Lillibut. Instead I found only a trap.”
Hot on its heels is another sending:
“It wasn’t being watched, but it might take a while for me to escape. Are you ok? Did you find a solution to your curse?”
The voice carries with it frustration and anger, but also the steady current of concern that Kurtz has shown for his daughter since their first meeting.
“No,” she responds. “The scholar I talked to is tactfully withholding information. With the Dawnlands about to be invaded by Gith, the Academy is in lockdown.”
Her frustration matches his unmistakably, with the worry hidden away. She cannot focus on it. If she does, she’ll freeze, and she cannot afford to do that.
“The Gith? What in the Hells has brought those astral pirates to the Dawnlands? Cannot Lady Oziah ‘convince’ the scholars? Surely they see the importance?”
Delilah laughs darkly. “Oh she tried. They’re just more stubborn. I’m making use of my curse by scaring people instead – in preparation, of course. Can’t do much else.”
Flippant and unfeeling, a great distraction tactic from what she is really feeling. Her father probably sees right through it.
He pretends not to see it. He can’t help and it hurts him so he avoids the extra pain.
“I wish I could help you too. The Gith have Dragons, they struck a deal long ago and the Reds answer their calls. Be careful.”
“I’m well aware.” Images of black and white tents engulfed in flames rise up in her mind. “I can escape with Oziah to Twilight if it comes to it.”
Always have the escape plan ready, just in case.
The noble is now pulling a ridiculously ornate rapier off the wall. Delilah almost snorts, nearly breaking the frightening illusion she has been imposing upon the middle aged, pompous prick. Perhaps she should come back another night to be the Ghost of Death to Come. Get him when he’s had more than a few drinks, really scare the shit out of him. Besides, her father is in trouble from trying to help her. She turns to leave.
“But father, you’re trapped. Do you need my help?”
The sound of his voice shifts to include slight resignation, a powerful man now forced to request assistance.
“I confess, I probably need somebody’s help. I have been trapped in a dungeon, seemingly warded against interplanar travel or teleportation and with other nefarious devices.”
She floats to a slow stop, Beastie in her shadow looking up at her. Neither liked the sound of that at all.
“It is across the seas, East of Waterdeep in a place called the Greypeak mountains.”
The portly nobleman has finally wrestled the purely ceremonial rapier out of its sheath, brandishes the dulled blade and charges Delilah. He swings down but it passes right through her. The force of his swing is too much that he trips on his own two feet and falls, tumbling ass over tea kettle, and into the main hallway with a resounding crash.
The girl of shadows doesn’t even glance at him. Beastie however materialises right in front of the nobleman’s face, tilting their head to the right as the man gives out a high pitched shriek. They playfully bat at the man’s bulbous nose before melting into vapour to appear on the wraith-like woman’s shoulder.
“Are you hurt? Any conditions? This place, what does it look like? Can you find somewhere safe before I come to save you?”
There is a teasing tone to the last question, but only slightly. The girl knows her father is proud, as all dragons are, and despite everything she does care, a lot more than she’s admitted except in one place.
A longer message sounds in Delilah’s head, a tiny pause between each an indication that her father is frustrated at only being able to communicate to his daughter in this limited fashion.
“Unhurt, except for my pride, I ventured into the home of a long dead dwarven wizard, rumoured to have a similar curse before death.”
Another sending, “The room I’m in is warded but I have ample provisions and can always make more. I am running out of castings of this spell.”
And another. “But I will send to you tomorrow directions that would allow you to find me. There remains some risk and danger, don’t come alone.”
There’s only the smallest of exasperated sighs.
“I appreciate your help but next time don’t go alone. I need you. If you were to die I’d-”
She stops herself. Damn her feelings getting the better of her. The thought of losing her father was not something she was going to dwell on. He said he was safe, so he was safe. For now. She can help get him out of this new bind he’s gotten himself into because this time it was in an attempt to help her. That made it different from the contract, right?
“I’ll await your word. Stay safe.”
A cat made of shadows nuzzles into her neck under her angular jaw.
“…he is a clever dragon… he has survived worse…”
Delilah quirks an eyebrow. The quivering nobleman still has his hands covering his head, muttering a prayer of some kind to the Coinmaiden.
“He’d better. If I have to bring him back from death itself I will.”
“…hmm…”
The shadow wreathed half-elf and not-cat look down their noses at the cowering nobleman. Delilah takes a floating step towards him, the high pitched, whining tone of his voice in prayer to banish all the evil spirits from this house getting more fervent.
She tries not to roll her eyes.
“Now, where were we?”
The man jumps and tries to push back but is already pressing his round backside against the mahogany wood panelled walls as far as it can be.
“Ah yes, the imminent invasion and what m’lord is going to do to help protect this little spot of land from becoming a crater in the history of the Dawnlands…”
Co-written with willjenkins 🐲