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[Ghost]

A wild impulse almost had Eldrid trying to topple the drum in order to destroy it completely. Hell, if he were a thousand-year old turtle, what kind of cursed existence would it be to have a drum inside your head by which sime annoying lice-of-some-himans could control you? The idea sickened him for some reason. Besides, here they were, closer than ever to getting home. Yet, he didn't really care much anymore. After this utter failure of an enterprise, where the ultimate cost had been the death of his brother, he didn't really see himself trying for gold and adventure again. And what awaited him at home, except a lonely dance in the gallows? He certainly didn't expect all the survivors of the crew to keep quiet about the Captain's fate.

Still... the others likely had reason to go home. The crone might have relatives somewhere; she wasn't fit for civilization, but even a heartless bastard such as Eldrid figured she ought to be able to see it again 'ere she died. "Maybe I'll just stay behind," he mused quietly.

[quizzical]

Quarion examined the drum and drumstick with great interest, looking for any clues. Although it was unlikely that the native were sophisticated enough to have written musical or rhythmic notations (much less ones that she could recognize). As she figgled with the drum, though, other ideas popped into her head... ideas about the mask.

Maybe the dums controlled the turtle ... but things on this island were often not what they seemed. Maybe the MASK controlled the turtle. Or maybe the whole 'turtle diving' was as much an illusion as that covering the cave entrances.

So Quarion thoughtfully put the drumstick down and carefully took out the mask. She stared at it for a moment, questioning the wisdom of playing with such a powerful magic item. *Well, little else about this trip has been particularly wise... why start now?*

After taking a deep calming breath, she places the mask to her face, affixes it if the means to do so are obvious, and opens her eyes...

She kept foremost in mind her desire to see the physical reality of the cavern and understand the turtle...

[Dehoffren]

Arty turned to face Scurvy as he arrived at his side “Looking a little worse for wear my friend” he said looking at the graze that was now adorning Scurvy’s wiry face “I’d get that washed out if I was you, there could be all sorts of nasties on that floor. Talking of nasties” he eyes revolves to where Quarion was standing “Well done for smiting the blighter Quarion,” Arty’s forehead wrinkled and his eyes widen “hey now be careful with that” he warned gently “The small fragment I had was very powerful, the gods only know how much juju that article contains”

[Gryffydd65]

Steffan looked around relieved that the turtle man was down, he then looked over and saw Quizzical put on the mask and thought "oh, poop, I hope he knows what he's doing."

[currymaniac]

The cavern remained the same, only one passage leading out of it. The drum remained as did the ledges, however the floor seemed now to be of normal stone, not some kind of sticky almost skin-like as it had been before. Also, there was a niggling feeling in the back of Quarion's head, almost as if something was being wiped away, his memories, but not all of them, just the ones of the island's outside, the ones where it seemed to be under the water, it seemed almost as if an illusion was being wiped away from him, or was it? Maybe it was wiping away his mind and not the illusion. Confusion settled in, who was he? Or was he a she? Where was he? What were these people doing on his island?

OOC

Need a will save Quiz, lest ye become a slavering pawn!

[quizzical]

A maniacal laugh erupts from Quarion's lips!

[ November 29, 2008, 3:34 am ] - quizzical rolled 1d20 ± 4 and obtained 9 ( 5, ). Reason : Quarion - will save.



OOC: uh-oh ... slavering pawn she is!

[currymaniac]

The maniacal laugh certainly wasn't the best sign in the world, but Quarion's expression certainly didn't exude evilness, although that could have been attributed to the mask currently covering his face. The old crone looked troubled.....

[Ghost]

Eldrid, standing close by both drum and Elf, watched almost in slow motion as the Elf raised the mask to it's face. When the Elf then laughed it's rather unsettling laughther, he sighed, realizing that this might be getting ugly again, real fast. He also realized that although the mask was powerful and might be a very nice thing to have if he had decided to return to civilization, if it addled his brain, then that rather defeated the purpose of owning it, he figured.

On the other hand, maybe it didn't addle your brain. Maybe the Elf had sought the mask all along. Elves were known for their knowledge of things old and magical. And weren't all Elves supposed to be old as dirt? Mayhap it had come on the ship for the sole purpose of getting the mask, and the reaction now came simply from the joy of a long-awaited goal achieved?

That made sense to Eldrid's knocked-about head. Also, it made it so that the mask and it's power was still something to be coveted.

"I have a feeling the treacherous Elf has lead us on a merry dance, folks... I call dibs on the ears!" With that, he launched himself at the Elf.

[Dehoffren]

“Treacherous?” queried Arty watching Quarion carefully “I think that might be a bit strong my dear fellow, but there does appear something amiss with our Elfish friend. Is everything quite alright Quarion?” he asked in a measured tone

[quizzical]

"Everything is exactly as it should be!" announced Quarion in a powerful voice. Then before your eyes the elf transforms, growing tall enough to fill the cave and glowing with a bright light. A sudden wind whips through the cavern,extinguishing all lights. His rags are replaced by a gorgeous dress with geometric designs and you realize that Quarion looks both more feminine and fiercer. Suddenly the giant elf is replaced by bright firework-like explosions... and the last one looks like a predatory turtle that swims around the room snapping and slashing at the various adventurers before disappearing, plunging the cavern into total blackness.

When the old woman manages to light a torch, Quarion and the mask are gone.

[Dehoffren]

“Oh” exclaimed Arty as he stood in the cavern, mouth agog. “That was” he paused fishing for the correct term “Unexpected..and strangely erotic”

[currymaniac]

The old crone did indeed relight her torch, and as she did another wrinkle formed around her mouth. "And where exactly would that turtle be snapping that you'd find erotic?" the old crone snapped herself.

[Dehoffren]

“Not the turtle, you silly woman” bit back Arty “I was just amazed how good a man could look in a dress” seemingly completely oblivious to Quarion’s gender

[currymaniac]

"Ach!" the old crone berated, slapping Arturo on the head, "Fer an educated men ye are only a tad smart! Have ye not got me hints? She's ne'er been a men!"

[Dehoffren]

The only comment Arty could muster was "Oh..." and as he thought back over various converastions and hints his "Ohs" become more positive. "So where has he..oh I mean she gone now?" asked Arty