Items dropped or put down by an invisible creature become visible; items picked up disappear if tucked into the clothing or pouches worn by the creature.
B'yelka continues to encourage Anton, but for her own part she ducks away from where the necromantic rays were coming from.
Feral grunts softly as the black beam bites into his chest, breathing heavily before looking up in the direction it came from. "Mmmm. Yes.. yes! Give me another! Haa haa HAAAH!" While he taunts the caster, the towering wolf keeps casting fleeting glances back over his shoulder to Anton as he endeavors to keep himself positioned between the Desnan and the source of the draining magics.
Having taken a breather, Janos tries to draw the spellcaster's fire by running through the are where the enemy was. He dives to the other side, hoping to gain an advantage by blocking the man in.
Drosil, hoping that the spellcaster's arsenal is almost depleted, moves into the tower once more, wishing to be ready with an attack when a target appears.
"When this coward shows himself, unleash everything you have!" Anton shouts. "Show him the mercy he gave our friend and let Pharasma judge him." The paladin cannot tell where the caster is, so conserves precious ammunition by holding his bow ready to strike when the necromancer shows itself.
B'yelka continues to encourage Anton, but for her own part she ducks away from where the necromantic rays were coming from.
No more chanting comes from within the tower. In fact no sound is to be heard at all, other than the noises the Five are making themselves.
=================================
Janos notices a trail of blood droplets suddenly become visible at his feet. They lead from the interior courtyard, over/past him and back through the hallway towards the front entrance of the tower.
Anton rushes after the blood drops, determined that the enemy not escape
Being around the corner from the action has its disadvantages. B'yelka feels safer, but can't see anything! In a stage whisper she asks Feral, "What's going on in there?"
Janos spots the blood trail and yells for the others. "Here! He's gone this way! He's bleeding!" He rushes through the doorway back out towards the entrance. He spots a man flying in the air. Janos raises his bow and fires. The arrow is caught by the wind and sails far clear of the target.
Seeing the enemy floating above him, Anton screeches to a halt and snaps off a shot but he is terribly off balance and the arrow flies wide, clattering harmlessly against the stone wall.
Hearing Janos' cry, Drosil moves quickly through the ruined tower and out the door, only to find that the magician is out of reach.
The wielder applies his Strength modifier to damage dealt by thrown weapons (except for splash weapons). It is possible to throw a weapon that isn't designed to be thrown (that is, a melee weapon that doesn't have a numeric entry in the Range column on Table: Weapons), and a character who does so takes a –4 penalty on the attack roll. Throwing a light or one-handed weapon is a standard action, while throwing a two-handed weapon is a full-round action. Regardless of the type of weapon, such an attack scores a threat only on a natural 20 and deals double damage on a critical hit. Such a weapon has a range increment of 10 feet. A thrown weapon has a maximum range of five range increments.
Feral snarls at the soaring figure and slips a javelin free. Testing the enlarged weapon's heft with a chuckle, he watches their foe closely, waiting for his hooded prey to attempt casting a spell.
HP: 54/57 // 9 nonlethal
AC: 26 (13 T / 22 FF) (17 vs incorporeal touch)
CMD: 23
F/R/W: +8/+6/+5
Mutate used (0/2):
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision, scent) [X]
Spontaneous Healing used: 15/35hp
Enhanced Potions used: 1/3
Hero Points used: 3/3
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [ ], enlarge person [X], shield [X] [ ], open [ ]
Prepared 2nd Level Extracts (3+1): ablative barrier [X], alchemical allocation [X], barkskin [X], false life [X]
Prepared 3rd Level Extracts (1+1): displacement [X] [ ]
Ongoing Effects
ablative barrier (7 hours): 34/35 hp converted, +2 armor (force)
barkskin (70 minutes): +4 natural armor
heroism (70 minutes): +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
enlarge person (6/7 minutes):+2 Str, -2 Dex, -1 AC (size), -1 to hit, 10ft reach
good hope (7/8 minutes): +2 morale bonus on damage rolls, attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
inspire courage: +2/+2
fatigued: -2 str, -2 Dex until 8 hrs rest
displacement (3/7 rounds): 50% miss chance
negative levels (2): –2 penalty on all ability checks, attack rolls, CMB checks, CMD, saving throws, & skill checks. -10 current and max hp
Feral snarls at the soaring figure and slips a javelin free. Testing the enlarged weapon's heft with a chuckle, he watches their foe closely, waiting for his hooded prey to attempt casting a spell.
[dice=Javelin]1d20+7[dice=for]1d8+10** spoiler omitted **
Janos notices a trail of blood droplets suddenly become visible at his feet. They lead from the interior courtyard, over/past him and back through the hallway towards the front entrance of the tower. "Here! He's gone this way! He's bleeding!" He rushes through the doorway back out towards the entrance. He spots a man flying in the air. Janos raises his bow and fires. The arrow is caught by the wind and sails far clear of the target.
Anton rushes after the blood drops, determined that the enemy not escape. Seeing the enemy floating above him, Anton screeches to a halt and snaps off a shot but he is terribly off balance and the arrow flies wide, clattering harmlessly against the stone wall.
Being around the corner from the action has its disadvantages. B'yelka feels safer, but can't see anything! In a stage whisper she asks Feral, "What's going on in there?"
Hearing Janos' cry, Drosil moves quickly through the ruined tower and out the door, only to find that the magician is out of reach.
Feral rushes outside, pulling a javelin from his back.
"You foolsss! I killed Petross! I took control of the Beast! It is I who build the Carrion Crown and return these lands and all others to the Whispering Tyrant's blessed embrace!" the flying necromancer hisses. Translucent spirits of the tormented dead flit around him as he gloats. He chants another arcane phrase gesturing at a pile of collapsed boulders laying next to the ruined tower. They rise up into the air as if they were children's toys held aloft by some invisible giant. With a gesture the leader of the Whispering Way flings the boulders at Anton with catapult-like force.
Anton tries to dive aside, but is partially caught in the rain of stone. He's flung momentarily against the wall as the heavy rocks pummel him with crushing force.
=================================
B'yelka moves away from the crushing fusillade of stone and finally gets outside. Her first clear view of Petros' murderer is stunning, Oh, now that is dramatic! Time to make it more comedic!
Even though she couldn't pick this man out in a crowd she knows his flight is his last real advantage. With a clarion call she casts Dispel Magic against his Fly. "Come down to us and receive your justice!"
As the rocks all around him rise up, as if the tower itself is now their enemy, Anton ducks instinctively, dodging several of the flying objects and raising his bow to finish the beast. As he is about to fire though the rocks come crashing down. He feels his collar bone break beneath his armor; hot, wet blood pouring down the nape of his neck and he can barely stand following the assault.
He grunts in pain as he hauls himself to his feet, his body breaking but his will as iron; strong and unbending, and begins to pray.
Starsong, The Great Dreamer - Desna - my strength, my faith, my guiding star. Be my protection against the wickedness of this evil. Be my shield, my path. Grant me your grace...
Anton calls on the last of the Divine Power afforded him and feels the familiar warmth flood his injured body.
With the last of his strength he then raises his bow and lines up this man, this foulest of enemies, slayer of their friend.
You're a fool! Not whilst there is breath in our bodies will you succeed, not while we stand against you will the Tyrant rise again.
Face your judgement monster, and when this servant of Desna puts you on the long cold road to the Boneyard; tell Pharasma what you've done. That you sought to usurp her power over death and that though you may be the creature that so singularly personified evil and bitterness it was us,
What he fires are not just arrows. They are love and hate and pain and mercy and in that moment he considers the cost they have borne to get to this point and face this creature. He pays it gladly.
Bab=8
Dex=4
Longbow=1
Weapon bond=2
Smite evil=5 (with Eagle's splendor)
Divine Favor=2
Inspire=2
Deadly aim=-3
Rapid shot= -2
Negative levels= -3
+16/+16/+11
Damage
Str=2
DA=6
Divine Favor=2
Smite=8
Bow=3
Total of 21
and
HP=32/53
Lay on Hands [x][x][x][x][x][x][x]
Level 1 Spells - Divine Favour [x] Protection From Evil []
Level 2 Spells - Eagle's Splendour [x] Litany of Righteousness []
Janos steps outside and launches a volley of arrows at the man, just as Anton taught him though not as nearly as deadly as the Paladin. The magical fatigue also weighs on him.
and
As the rocks all around him rise up, as if the tower itself is now their enemy, Anton ducks instinctively, dodging several of the flying objects and raising his bow to finish the beast. As he is about to fire though the rocks come crashing down. He feels his collar bone break beneath his armor; hot, wet blood pouring down the nape of his neck and he can barely stand following the assault.
B'yelka moves away from the crushing fusillade of stone and finally gets outside. Her first clear view of Petros' murderer is stunning, Oh, now that is dramatic! Time to make it more comedic! Even though she couldn't pick this man out in a crowd she knows his flight is his last real advantage. With a clarion call she casts Dispel Magic against his Fly. "Come down to us and receive your justice!"
"Uh oh.." Vrood says, as he plummets to the dirt with a crunch.
Janos steps outside and launches a volley of arrows at the man, just as Anton had taught him. The magical fatigue weighs on him and his first shot flies wide. The second shaft buries itself in the prone necromancer's crotch, eliciting a high pitched shriek of pain from him. Janos's third shot buries itself in the dirt next to Vrood's head.
Anton grunts in pain as he hauls himself to his feet, his body breaking but his will hard as iron; strong and unbending. He begins to pray.
"Starsong, The Great Dreamer - Desna - my strength, my faith, my guiding star. Be my protection against the wickedness of this evil. Be my shield, my path. Grant me your grace..."
Anton calls on the last of the divine power afforded him, and feels the familiar warmth flood his injured body healing him. With the last of his strength he then raises his bow and lines up this man, this foulest of enemies, slayer of their friend. "You're a fool! Not whilst there is breath in our bodies will you succeed, not while we stand against you will the Tyrant rise again."
"Face your judgement monster, and when this servant of Desna puts you on the long cold road to the Boneyard; tell Pharasma what you've done. That you sought to usurp her power over death and that though you may be the creature that so singularly personified evil and bitterness it was us, " What he fires are not just arrows. They are love and hate and pain and mercy and in that moment he considers the cost they have borne to get to this point and face this creature. He pays it gladly.
Anton's first double-arrow trick shot is enough. The arrows enter below the prone man's chin, tearing behind his face to burst from the top of his skull with an audible crack and sizzle of divine energy. Determined that Auren Vrood never rise to trouble them again, the avenging paladin sends one more blazing missile streaming into the foul mastermind's black heart. With a twitch more appropriate to a beached fish than an evil overlord, it is finished. The tormented souls which had swirled around the undead lord sigh with relief and dissipate into the ether.
As the Five begin to process this, they hear a slow clap echoing across the ruined town square of Feldgrau. They turn to see who could only be Adimarus Ionacu striding towards them, six hybrid Demon Wolves at his back. He grins at them. "Well done no-furs! That little skull f@*$er was beginning to vex." He looks at Feral. "What are you doing with these weakling, Silver? Come on over here and join up with some real wolves!"
As this is happening, howls break out from another side of the square. All eyes turn to see six more werewolves entering the scene. They are slighter than the Demon Wolves and mainly have light brown fur. These must be the Prince's Wolves that the Five were told to make contact with. They growl menacingly, but say nothing, waiting to see what will happen.
Just as the tension grows thick enough to cut with a sword, another group enters the final side of the square. An undead female dressed in monk's robes leads half a dozen more fleshy undead, and five Menadoran festrogs. She sees the form of Auren Vrood dead on the ground and shrieks in fury.
And so it is done... Anton mutters as the robed menace falls before them.
But before he can congratulate his friends the growling voice of Adimarus calls out.
Enough! Anton shouts. This is over! Your leader has fallen and your plans have come to nothing but ashes and blood.
He looks over the multitude of enemies and inches closer to B'yelka.
I fear this is a fight we cannot win, my lady. We are outmatched and outnumbered, injured and fatigued. If it comes to it, I want you to get out. he says earnestly.
Janos watches the necromancer fall. The Ranger slumps in relief. "It's over, Kendra. We did it."
He jerks back to attention and drops his bow as werewolves bound in. Janos draws his sword and moves close to the others should battle begin. He glances over to Feral. Now it's come to it. The Way's plans are destroyed. Now we'll see what Feral will force us to do. Oh, Dantrian, where are you?
"The Undead have no place here! The Necromancer is fallen and unless you want to follow him, leave this place to the wolves. We will withdraw as well..."
B'yelka keeps her composure in the face of these massive new threats. She nods, a bare thing, almost imperceptibly, to Anton. But she keeps her eyes on the Demon wolves, Those are the ones to mistrust! I now what the necromancers will do... Taking a few steps she moves close to Feral.
With a gentle touch she takes his clawed hand in hers and says, "You said you would protect Dantrian," she pauses for an instant, "and us." When Feral looks down at her, she is looking up, "This is the moment to decide if you live in honor, with Dantrian, or if you are nothing more than these demonwolves. We may be able to back out without a fight, but we need you with us when we do."
Feral watches Vrood fall with undisguised delight in his eyes. As the necromancer's bones crunch to the ground, he chuckles softly. "Heh heh haah. An ignominious end for a craven wretch. How worthy! Heh haah haah!"
The towering form of Feral turns to his allies as other parties begin to arrive. He glances back to Adimarus when the demonwolf alpha addresses him and snarls, "Weaklings? Hah! You think these four to be weak? You're as foolish as you are ugly, cur. If I walk over to you, it'll be to rip the tiny heart from your puny chest!"
As B'yelka tugs on his overly large hands and urges him to depart, his expression softens as he looks from her to the others. "You all wish to flee? Now?" Feral's face hardens for a long moment, his lips drawing closed into a tight line before he nods, "Very well. If that's what you all want, I won't argue." As he speaks, the scant few scratches and bruises on his chest knit together and vanish almost entirely and he shifts forward slightly, positioning himself between his four friends and their seemingly many foes.
HP: 57/57 // 4 nonlethal
AC: 26 (13 T / 22 FF) (17 vs incorporeal touch)
CMD: 23
F/R/W: +8/+6/+5
Mutate used (0/2):
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision, scent) [X]
Spontaneous Healing used: 20/35hp
Enhanced Potions used: 1/3
Hero Points used: 3/3
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [ ], enlarge person [X], shield [X] [ ], open [ ]
Prepared 2nd Level Extracts (3+1): ablative barrier [X], alchemical allocation [X], barkskin [X], false life [X]
Prepared 3rd Level Extracts (1+1): displacement [X] [ ]
Ongoing Effects
ablative barrier (7 hours): 34/35 hp converted, +2 armor (force)
barkskin (70 minutes): +4 natural armor
heroism (70 minutes): +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
enlarge person (6/7 minutes):+2 Str, -2 Dex, -1 AC (size), -1 to hit, 10ft reach
good hope (7/8 minutes): +2 morale bonus on damage rolls, attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
inspire courage: +2/+2
fatigued: -2 str, -2 Dex until 8 hrs rest
displacement (3/7 rounds): 50% miss chance
negative levels (2): –2 penalty on all ability checks, attack rolls, CMB checks, CMD, saving throws, & skill checks. -10 current and max hp
Anton looks hard at the werewolf that is also his friend somewhere.
Then takes a step forward to stand beside him.
If we stand. We stand together, friend. he says, taking an arrow and nocking it in his bow.
A wide grin splits Drosil's face. "Flee? Whatever would have given you that idea?" He steps forward, hand on his rapier. With his other hand, he reaches into his belt pouch and pulls out a small token. He calls out to the light-brown-furred lycanthropes, "Prince's Wolves! We have these tokens given us by Rhakis Szadro, your alpha. Stand with us against these threats to your home and ours!"
Janos glances at Feral. "I wasn't thinking of fleeing so much as...We got what we came for. And as much as I would love to kill more undead, we can leave that to the wolves. This is their domain. Unless you mean to join them?"
The Ranger looks up at the Prince's Wolves when Drosil shows the token. "Yes, we made an agreement with your Alpha. We can be allies."
"Leaving trouble to the wolves is leaving it to me, Janos. I lead the Silverhides now, and to leave Adimarus breathing is to condemn the Shudderwood and Ascanor to his twisted, devilish reign." Feral glances to the ranger, and the others in turn. "Is that something you would so easily allow?"
Janos sighs and rolls his eyes at the werewolf. "Fine, then. If you're the Alpha, then get your damned whelps in line. I'll stand with you, but I prefer to destroy the undead." He points to the undead female with his sword and smirks.
Initiative
Anton:
Drosil:
B'Yelka:
Dantrian:
Janos:
Adimarus:
Demon Wolves:
Prince's Wolves:
Acrietia:
Wights:
Festrogs:
Prince's Wolves 19.6
Demon Wolves 17.3
Adimarus 16
Festrogs 14.4
Wights 14.2
Party 11.6
Acrietia 10
The Prince's wolves are the first to spring into action, loping towards the Demon Wolves over the furrowed, blasted earth.
The Demon Wolves howl and run straight at them, eager to shed blood. Adimarus strides boldly forward behind them, laughing as he flourishes his massive bastard sword.
The festrogs drop to all fours and begin tearing across the field, leaping over ditches and boulders.
The fleshy undead form around their mistress and slowly advance, crawling ape-like over the ruined town square.
"Now we've done it. This will be a bloody melee." He looks to Feral. "If you mean to control the werewolves, Adimarus has to die. And I'm not leaving that necromancer to reform the Way."
The Ranger speaks in odd whispers and the spirits answer. His sword glints like silvery metal. "Anton, how about you put some of them down."
Feral bites the cork stoppering a flask, tearing it free, and downs the liquid with a gulp. Casting the empty vessel aside, he strides forward slowly for Adimarus, stepping over the shattered body of Vrood, as a hungry, wicked grin spreads across his face. "I'm going to enjoy ripping you to shreds, pup!"
HP: 57/57 // 4 nonlethal
AC: 27 (14 T / 22 FF) (18 vs incorporeal touch)
CMD: 25
F/R/W: +8/+7/+5
Mutate used (0/2):
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision, scent) [X]
Spontaneous Healing used: 20/35hp
Enhanced Potions used: 1/3
Hero Points used: 3/3
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [ ], enlarge person [X], shield [X] [ ], open [ ]
Prepared 2nd Level Extracts (3+1): ablative barrier [X], alchemical allocation [X], barkskin [X], false life [X]
Prepared 3rd Level Extracts (1+1): displacement [X] [ ]
Ongoing Effects
ablative barrier (7 hours): 4/35 hp converted, +2 armor (force)
barkskin (70 minutes): +4 natural armor
heroism (70 minutes): +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
enlarge person (6/7 minutes):+2 Str, -2 Dex, -1 AC (size), -1 to hit, 10ft reach
good hope (7/8 minutes): +2 morale bonus on damage rolls, attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
inspire courage: +2/+2
displacement (7/7 rounds): 50% miss chance
negative levels (2): –2 penalty on all ability checks, attack rolls, CMB checks, CMD, saving throws, & skill checks. -10 current and max hp
Drosil rushes toward the undead threat, hoping that the Prince's Wolves will be able to protect the party's right flank from the Demon Wolves.
Bab=8
Dex=4
Longbow=1
Weapon bond=2
Smite evil=5 (with Eagle's splendor)
Divine Favor=2
Inspire=2
Deadly aim=-3
Rapid shot= -2
Negative levels= -3
+16/+16/+11
Damage
Str=2
DA=6
Divine Favor=2
Smite=8
Bow=3
Total of 21
and
Anton takes a step in front of B'yelka, both to get a clear line of fire on Adimarus and also more subconsciously.
He says nothing more as the battle is joined except a silent prayer to Desna that somehow, should she see fit, she shows them the road out of this.
HP=32/53
Lay on Hands [x][x][x][x][x][x][x]
Level 1 Spells - Divine Favour [x] Protection From Evil []
Level 2 Spells - Eagle's Splendour [x] Litany of Righteousness []
The scene before her is breathtaking. Corpses barreling towards them from one side, the Prince's Wolves moving who knows where! And of course the Demon Wolves ready for a showdown with Dantrian. No, Feral she thinks with disgust. If it weren't for Mr Almaeus trapped in that rotten minded body I could only hope for his death...
She shouts after her friends, "Keep Dantrian safe you savage beast!" Otherwise, she stays near Anton and begins her own battle-side routine. She grips his elbow and whispers to Desna, Protect us, Dreamer." As if in response to her prayer, and from such an odd woman to be Her champion, B'yelka's eyes flash for a moment with a brilliant light. The light leaves her and settle on Anton, obscuring his form.
The Prince's wolves are the first to spring into action, loping towards the Demon Wolves over the furrowed, blasted earth.
The Demon Wolves howl and run straight at them, eager to shed blood. Adimarus strides boldly forward behind them, laughing as he flourishes his massive bastard sword.
The festrogs drop to all fours and begin tearing across the field, leaping over ditches and boulders.
The fleshy undead form around their mistress and slowly advance, crawling ape-like over the ruined town square.
"Now we've done it. This will be a bloody melee." He looks to Feral. "If you mean to control the werewolves, Adimarus has to die. And I'm not leaving that necromancer to reform the Way."
The Ranger speaks in odd whispers and the spirits answer. His sword glints like silvery metal. "Anton, how about you put some of them down."
Feral bites the cork stoppering a flask, tearing it free, and downs the liquid with a gulp. Casting the empty vessel aside, he strides forward slowly for Adimarus, stepping over the shattered body of Vrood, as a hungry, wicked grin spreads across his face. "I'm going to enjoy ripping you to shreds, pup!"
Drosil rushes toward the undead threat, hoping that the Prince's Wolves will be able to protect the party's right flank from the Demon Wolves.
Anton takes a step in front of B'yelka, both to get a clear line of fire on Adimarus and also more subconsciously.
He says nothing more as the battle is joined except a silent prayer to Desna that somehow, should she see fit, she shows them the road out of this. His three long distance shots lack the paladin's normal accuracy, and only one of them buries itself in the giant demon wolf's flesh.
The scene before her is breathtaking. Corpses barreling towards them from one side, the Prince's Wolves moving who knows where! And of course the Demon Wolves ready for a showdown with Dantrian. No, Feral she thinks with disgust. If it weren't for Mr Almaeus trapped in that rotten minded body I could only hope for his death...
She shouts after her friends, "Keep Dantrian safe you savage beast!" Otherwise, she stays near Anton and begins her own battle-side routine. She grips his elbow and whispers to Desna, Protect us, Dreamer." As if in response to her prayer, and from such an odd woman to be Her champion, B'yelka's eyes flash for a moment with a brilliant light. The light leaves her and settle on Anton, obscuring his form.
================================
The princes wolves continue to rush forward.
The demon wolves likewise continue running towards them. Three of the demon wolves meet the lead prince's, attack him with their wicked falchions.
Two of the demons slice into the brown furred werewolf leaving bloody wounds.
The undead continue advancing towards Adimarus and the developing melee.
"Come then, Adimarus! Why don't you show me what you think you can do with that little twig of yours! HAHAAHAAH!" Feral rips another cork free and downs the contents of a second vial as he continues his slow stride toward Adimarus.
HP: 57/57 // 4 nonlethal
AC: 27 (14 T / 22 FF) (18 vs incorporeal touch)
CMD: 25
F/R/W: +8/+7/+5
Mutate used (0/2):
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision, scent) [X]
Spontaneous Healing used: 20/35hp
Enhanced Potions used: 1/3
Hero Points used: 3/3
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [ ], enlarge person [X], shield [X] [ ], open [ ]
Prepared 2nd Level Extracts (3+1): ablative barrier [X], alchemical allocation [X], barkskin [X], false life [X]
Prepared 3rd Level Extracts (1+1): displacement [X] [X]
Ongoing Effects
ablative barrier (7 hours): 4/35 hp converted, +2 armor (force)
barkskin (70 minutes): +4 natural armor
heroism (70 minutes): +2 morale bonus on attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
enlarge person (6/7 minutes):+2 Str, -2 Dex, -1 AC (size), -1 to hit, 10ft reach
good hope (7/8 minutes): +2 morale bonus on damage rolls, attack rolls, saves, and skill checks
inspire courage: +2/+2
displacement (1/7 rounds): 50% miss chance
negative levels (2): –2 penalty on all ability checks, attack rolls, CMB checks, CMD, saving throws, & skill checks. -10 current and max hp
Bab=8
Dex=4
Longbow=1
Weapon bond=2
Smite evil=5 (with Eagle's splendor)
Inspire=2
Deadly aim=-3
Rapid shot= -2
Negative levels= -3
+14/+14/+9
and
Anton sends another volley of arrows sailing toward Adimarus even as the battle is joined in earnest.
Drosil continues his advance.
Janos continues to move with the group, keeping pace with Feral. He watches the group of undead as theyclose with the werewolves.
B'yelka continues with her song knowing the strength it lends is her best contribution to the finale.
Prince's Wolves 19.6
Demon Wolves 17.3
Adimarus 16
Festrogs 14.4
Wights 14.2
Party 11.6
Acrietia 10
The princes wolves continue to rush forward.
The demon wolves likewise continue running towards them. Three of the demon wolves meet the lead prince's, attack him with their wicked falchions. Two of the demons slice into the brown furred werewolf leaving bloody wounds.
Adimarus follows his demons into battle.
The undead continue advancing towards Adimarus and the developing melee.
"Come then, Adimarus! Why don't you show me what you think you can do with that little twig of yours! HAHAAHAAH!" Feral rips another cork free and downs the contents of a second vial as he continues his slow stride toward Adimarus.
Anton sends another volley of arrows sailing toward Adimarus even as the battle is joined in earnest. The four blazing shafts arc through the sky, and fall on the Demon Wolve's giant leader like lightning bolts from the hand of an angry god. Desna's power is more than enough to topple the arrogant lycanthrope. Anton's arrows tear through the werewolf like he is made of paper. Adimarus' black blood smokes from the gaping holes in his body as he looks down with surprise on his face. He topples forward into the dirt without another word, dead.
Drosil continues his advance.
B'yelka continues with her song knowing the strength it lends is her best contribution to the finale.
The twisted undead hill giants continue to barrel forward on all fours. The first two of them leap onto the backs of the closest demon wolves, jaws slavering.
Luckily for the wolf, the undeads' rotting flesh is clumsy in its strength. The festrogs slip in the bloody mire of the furrowed ground around Adimarus' corpse and their teeth fail to find flesh.
The human sized undead shamble forward towards Drosil, their red eyes glowing hungrily.
Their robed leader takes off at a dead sprint, flying over the ground with the speed of a bolt. She flies towards the group, hissing, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground as she runs.
================================
Prince's Wolves 19.6
Demon Wolves 17.3
Adimarus 16
Festrogs 14.4
Wights 14.2
Party 11.6
Acrietia 10
The Prince's Wolves rush forward with their longswords and engage the Demon Wolves. Unfortunately, it appears the are well overmatched and not a single one of them manages to wound one of the evil lycanthropes.
The demon wolves on the other hand are full of the fury of the Abyss.
They cut down the wounded prince's wolf, and one of them cleaves into a festrog, spraying himself with puss.
The necrotic excretions seem to have no ill effect on the demon wolf.
The festrogs swarm the nearest demon wolf, biting and clawing at it.
One of them tears into the wolf with its teeth, while another claws it open.
The wolf laughs as his curse mostly protects him from the undead. "Need silver, you maggot filled turds!"
The smaller undead warily surround Drosil.
Drosil charges toward one of the nearest festrogs, thrusting with his rapier, then prepares to meet the remainder of the undead creatures as they advance.