RPG Session

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Irakhash
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Irakhash » Fri Feb 05, 2021 2:29 pm

Old number ... I'm looking for something solid that could block the door closing again
Mortals cannot perceive me with the physical eye whilst in my pure form unless it is of my choosing, for it would result in fatality, which begs the question of why you are an exception.

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Brerg
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Brerg » Fri Feb 05, 2021 2:29 pm

It does not seem to be any kind of trap. A winding, narrow staircase leads down.

Are you going down or are you staying and penetrating this level?
Death is lighter than a feather. Duty, heavier than a mountain.

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Matsui
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Matsui » Fri Feb 05, 2021 2:30 pm

Do these hidden doors even look like they are about to close behind us and is there a "door handle" on the other side?
The sun does not abandon the moon to darkness.

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Vataes
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Vataes » Fri Feb 05, 2021 2:31 pm

Po drugiej stronie, na początku schodów, jest w ścianie niewielka dźwignia. Zapewne służy ona do otwierania drzwi od środka.
Every time you take one path, you must live with the memory of the other: of a life left unchosen.

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Oneia
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Oneia » Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:32 pm

I'm coming down slowly. I have my bow ready. Even though it's probably dark, I can see everything, right?
Dopamine Addicted

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Rincewind1
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Rincewind1 » Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:32 pm

I understand that we all come downstairs?
The best preparation for tomorrow is doing your best today. H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

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Supergirl
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Supergirl » Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:33 pm

By making Rzeznik in my paws I also descend ...
Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection we can catch excellence.

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Eredin
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Eredin » Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:33 pm

I'm going for the rest ...
Don’t Let Yesterday Take Up Too Much Of Today

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Alfa
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Alfa » Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:34 pm

A winding staircase, narrow, very narrow ... there is so little space here that you are voiced by the deepest and even the weakest fears of claustrophobia. Wherever you turn your head stone walls, vaulted just above you. And the stairs keep going down and down. How many steps are these already? 100? 200? Do any of you count them at all? If anything, is it not lost? They are small, you have to be careful not to fall down, not to trip and fall down ... Stairs, still stairs ...

They end suddenly, unexpectedly and unexpectedly ... You've already managed to get used to the crampedness and stuffiness, and suddenly it's over. You are standing in a kind of vestibule. The ceiling is very high, your lamps cannot light it. The floor is rather slippery and there are no dents on the walls. Everything is in complete order and order, as if there had never been a fight here. From here, you can go east and west, as there are two open corridors in these directions. However, in front of you, on the northern wall, there is a huge gate. They are wide almost as wide as this room is, and their upper edge is lost in the dark. You can see a small lock with a tiny keyhole ... But that's not what draws your attention ...

The doors are decorated with ornaments and carvings, some of them still with paints of horribly deformed people. Their faces are twisted, neither are human nor animal faces: horses and calves, birds and basilisks, griffins and manticores. The lips seem twisted in grimaces of pain and delight. Most of the eye sockets are empty, dripping blood and bile. The women have torn garments, and their breasts and wombs are bare.
Wombs that give out more monsters. Children with fish heads and scales instead of hair, girls with hands instead of breasts and fingers instead of braids.
The hands of all monsters are long, twisted, with seven, twelve, or only three fingers on each hand. These hands hold weapons, for all these creatures are plunged into the abyss of battle and murder. As if all the ugliness and degeneration of the world had gathered on the last battlefield. For it is indeed the sight of a great battle.
Waterfalls of blood soaking into the sand trampled with thousands of deformed feet and hooves. Fallen trees with bare branches and the sky red like a virgin's mouth.
And in the middle of an ocean of blood, a skeleton of a woman is walking on a thin horse, holding two crossed scythes in one hand and a bunch of keys in the other. Right by the horse's side of the horse, an ordinary man dressed in a cap with bells and shoes with sharp tips. There is a perfidious smile on his face, and his tongue is stretched out and hangs over his chin. He is clothed in purple garments, and on his head is a crown of seven rubies. In his right hand he holds four silver sceptres.
Above all, the eagle with nine heads and six pairs of wings hovers, and its talons are smeared with the blood of mortal creatures.
Elsewhere, the figure of the three-horned minotaur blows seven trumpets. Seven angels with broken wings joined him, they kneel in front of him, drinking the vomit and bile from his bowels. Each of them is holding a scale and golden coins are lying on the shawls.
On the other side, a pyramid of elephants rises from the sea of ​​battle. There are eleven below, only seven above. There are four elephants on them and one at the top. The one in the folded trunk is holding a banner on which you can see a flaming, clenched hand. A naked woman with flowing hair is sitting on the elephant. He has his left hand between his thighs, and an apple in his right hand.
Somewhere further, among the horrors, a lyre, with a golden harp with strings of human hair.
A snake that swallows daggers and spits out the matter of the stars. Satyrs with long beards forge crowns from it, intended for the kings of this world. The kings wait, and those who have already placed crowns on their temples sit on thrones set on the hills in the olive grove. The square is formed by a triangle which turns into a circle to surround the hills with a ring of thorns. And the thorns of thorns stick into the bodies of kings, preventing them from escaping.
Murderers and assassins wait between the trees.
When the crown falls into thousandths, each turns into a plague.

Such an ornament decorates the gates in front of which you are standing.
“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” – Walt Disney.

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Poison Ivy
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Re: RPG Session

Post by Poison Ivy » Fri Feb 05, 2021 3:35 pm

Hmmm ... sweet ornament. This is how I can see from the pictures that behind the door there may be Uncle Thalin Leaning Face ... And to be honest, I think that opening this gate is not the best idea. Let's first explore the rest of the dungeon and then at the most we will consider the sense of opening these gates

In the meantime, I look at the gates even more closely, or there is no inscription in the vicinity of the gates saying, for example, what is behind the gates.
Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you.

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