Reese mutters to herself, you big weinies. Really, their going to run away. I scan the area to see if i can reach anyone and jolt them with my spell.
Your see no hiding adversaries. You saw Brenin disappear around the corner and you've now heard several shouts from that same direction. You'd have to charge to reach the fleeing thugs (even the hesitating one). But you can hold that charge indefinitely as long as you don't cast another spell.
A shrill hawk cry sounds from the far (west) side of the Goblin.
Brenin's shot sails off into the night. Your enemies are silhouetted against the lit windows of the casino front. You see the largest shadow swing a hafted weapon against the casino door with a crash. Light streams through in places as the weapon reduces the door. It won't stand much of that treatment.
Kwava fires down at the stalled attackers but fails to hit. His target taunts him, but the elf is already on the move, running lightly along the eaves moving west across the face of the building.
Lia isn't hesitating. She's a girl of action. She moves toward the thug and attacks.
Isegrim charges across the pavement and swings his sword in a wide arc that fails to intersect with the villain
Lia's does her part to convince the man that fleeing is the righ opption by slicing the man's arm open.
Trystan calls for Rees to follow him to his sister and his brother-at-arms.
The last of the thugs darts away from his attackers, then turns and high-tails it down the alley. You've won the fight here, but any feelings of accomplishment are wiped away with the sound of a shattering window somewhere on the other side of the building. Your attackers have apparently planned this one out.
Right behind you Trystan. Why do we always do this wrong. I hope they don't try and burn down the bar. That would suck!
Isegrim joins the mill in the square, looking to his friends for direction. Sounds of the heavy blows to the front door echo on the empty streets.
The arrow strikes home, taking the cloaked figure right in the back. He falls on his face at the feet of one of the larger shadowed figures. His speech comes out more in a growl than a proper voice.
"Damn burglar's copped it Jak."
The one with the hammer looks over his shoulder for a second at the body, then hefts the weapon for another blow at the door.
"Tough for him! Do your f%##in job!"
With this he hits the front doors with enough force to partially tear them off their hinges. By the light streaming through the wreckage you can see that the two talking are half orcs. The team of attackers squeezes into the casino one-by-one, leaving Jak by the door. He turns back to scan the street for the hidden attacker and spots Brenin.
Lia hears the disturbance at the Goblin. She runs to defend her new home from invaders.
Lia sprints toward the square in front of the Goblin. The wrecked doors come into view just as the last thug enters the casino. The big half orc is visible on the front steps.
Brenin's arrow again goes home, but looking back on it, he probably cannot remember what affect it had on the half-orc. That's because the world flipped on its head at that moment.
It started as a dramatic lightening in the northern night sky. It brightened to a point where everyone was forced to shield their eyes from the intensity - brighter than a noon sun. The source of the light was a monstrous fireball that roared by high above the city and further out to sea, bathing the streets in a garish orange glow. Where the fireball's course intersected the horizon was a blinding flash, followed heartbeats later by the long rolling thunder of impact.
Everyone outside had just about enough time to regain the ability to see when the ground began to shake violently.
Across the harbor part of the hillside making up the windward district slid into the sea taking posh Cyphermage homes and many lives with it and burying streets in the lower parts of the district in earth. Everywhere the night air filled with the sounds of shaking destruction and screaming. Enemies scrambled away from conflicts that were life-and-death important moments before - now forgotten in the mutual interest of survival. Within the casino the red fabric ceiling split and the catwalks came down together in crashing ruin. Across the plaza from the Goblin the earth cracked open, fracturing a gaslamp line that immediately ignited in a gout of green flame. The wall of the adjacent building took fire of a more traditional hue and proceeded to burn down a dozen waterfront buildings as they still shook. This scene was repeated across the city in several locations, and may have consumed the entire town were it not for the next and worst of the night's calamities.
The shaking had stopped as suddenly as it had begun leaving behind it fire, ruin and chaos. Then a rising cry of dismay came from the already-scant survivors from of the docks. The harbor waters had receded and the Velashu thinned to a thread of its normal flow. Some of those who knew what this meant stopped picking through dark rubble for loved ones and began seeking a way up, off the ground and onto rooftops. These were some of the ones that survived the wave. Others didn't or couldn't give up, choosing rather to join the trapped in their fate that night. There were far too many people trapped in damaged or burning buildings to rescue. Not near enough time to act before the wave hit...
The wall of water that struck the city of Riddleport was not the wave that struck the coast. The estuary caught alot of the water and blunted the blow like a pillow blunts a punch. Still the surge was enough to lift the only ship in port over the roof of quayside warehouses and drop it onto 2nd street. Every building in the waterfront, the Gold Goblin and the Publican House included, were washed out and wrecked on their ground floors. Most of the Publican House was swept into the harbor, as was much of the earthquake-wrought rubble of the waterfront. Another effect of the wave was to deposit some of the harbor's fiercest predators into the streets among the battered and distraught. Bewildered bunyips, swamp baraccudas, and giant reefclaws turned up in unexpected places for a week or more after the disaster.
Of course the higher districts of the city were spared the force of the wave, but still suffered the earthquake damage. The CypherLodge withstood the quake unscathed, as did the enigmatic Cyphergate. Both Zincher and Croat's compounds up in the Leeward district were quake-damaged and to some extent flooded. From the first hours after the disaster, the balance of power in town shifted towards those with the means to survive the collapse of the town economy. The money in the Goblin's vault represents a large sum of real cash, and retrieving that resource would be easy, if there was any sign of Saul Vankerkaskin.
But there isn't. Like so many other victims of the flood, Saul has simply vanished.
Brenin laughs out loud as the arrow strikes home. "Come out and play Jak! There's plenty..." Brenin's words trail off as the light streaks across the sky. He throws up his buckler arm to shield his eyes. "What in the he!!?"
The ensuing explosion and violent shaking throw him to the ground. As he struggles to regain his feet, he hears the ground cracking followed by an explosion as the flames from the gas lamp behind him roar high above his head. He feels the heat on his back and looks towards his friends and then towards the Goblin. He can barely see through the spots in his eyes.
Brenin moves towards the center of the plaza away from the buildings as he watches in awe as they collapse and explode into flame around him. As the shaking stops, he stows his bow and starts moving towards the Goblin, slowly at first, then picking up the pace to a run. "Saul, Sam!" He rushes through the broken front doors and sees the devastation firsthand, the catwalks and silk lying on the floor, two of the thugs buried underneath, the third nowhere to be seen. "Samaritha!" Brenin tries to navigate the debris and realizes the peril. He retrieves the spider climb potion, drinks it down and feels a tingling sensation through his feet and finger tips. He immediately bolts towards his room to retrieve his things. "Saul!"
Brenin jumps from tables to the wall to timbers, to the floor. He can't remember how he got there, but somehow he finds the counter top blocking the hallway to the sleeping chambers and vaults over it. He hears the flames of the lamp setting the silk on fire, but he doesn't even know where, just behind him in the open room. Busting through the door into his cramped and dark bedchamber, he stumbles over something and hits the floor hard near the bed. Half a minute later, he's back in the hall with his pack slung over one shoulder.
"Samaritha! Saul! Where are you," Brenin screams as he enters the main room again. The flames from the burning silk light the room and he sees, but barely registers, the blood running down his arm. The silk burns slower than he would have imagined, but fast enough and the smell of burnt hair immediately fills the room. He hears a crashing sound in the kitchen and bolts that way.
The nearest door to the kitchen is blocked by debris and the fire is between him and second door. As he starts to think about another way, he hears a loud pounding in the kitchen. Forgetting the flames, he charges through, arm shielding his face from the flames and heat. It's not far through the fire, but time seems to slow down. As the intensity of the heat hits him, he immediately inhales, sucking in the hot air. He feels the burn in his mouth and nose, then work his way down to his throat and lungs. As he reaches the door, he realizes some of his clothing is starting to catch fire. He busts through the doorway beating out the flames just in time to see the half-orc hit his shoulder against the back door one more time and fall through out into the street. Thoughts of his opponent are fleeting, however, as he hears the sounds of wooden casks hitting the floor from one of the pantries. "Sam!" he cries out, more hoarsely than before.
"In here," he hers her say and he races across the room to see her disheveled and shaken form emerge from the dark doorway.
"Thank Gozreh. Where's Saul?"
"He pushed me in here and went back to the floor..." Her words trail off as she sees the flames through the open doorway even as she says it. She looks back at Brenin and gasps, "What have they done?"
"It wasn't them. We have to get out of here."
Brenin guides her to the back door even as the smoke begins to fill the room. He almost feels a relief stepping out into the cool night air until he sees the ruins and fires around him and hears the cries and sobbing of desperate people somewhere not too far off in the darkness. Brenin's suprise is pale in comparison to the shock Samaritha encounters as she realizes the destruction is widespread. He feels her strength leave her and she starts to fall. He instinctively reaches for out to offer her support.
Together they step out into the street, turning slowly to survey as much as they can in the mixture of the black night and the bright fireballs. The half-orc is gone, fled somewhere into the night. His fear of Zincher and Croat replaced by the sheer terror of the scene around him. The street to the East towards where he last saw his friends is aflame, the gas lamps burning the buildings, some of which have partially collapsed. The street heading South is nearly pitch black save some flickers of light and flame here and there.
"We should try and find the others." Brenin tries to sound strong, but his adrenaline has started to fade with no immediate threat and he feels the pains of the Goblin's obstacle course throughout his body. He looks back East and judges the flames and debris to be too much for his failing swagger. He looks back down the darkened road and immediately chooses that one.
He keeps Samaritha close, so close he can feel her sobbing, better than he can hear it over the din of wailing and shouting. He quickly worries about his choice as people come running by, out of the darkness, screaming for help, distraught, frantic, grasping at them, begging for help. Brenin shrugs them off, thinks of drawing his sword, then chooses a higher road. "Up there," he says, and points up at the eaves of the roof. "Hang on." Brenin lightly rushes up one of the walls and up onto the eaves where he deposits his bag, bow and buckler. Back on the ground, he helps Samaritha up and joins her.
Even from the lowest part of the Goblin's roof, the enormity of the destruction is overwhelming. "So many lost." He can't remember how long they stood there, mouths agape, surveying the city or when the tingling in his extremities from the potion went away. He vaguely remembers the increasing intensity of the screaming and the sudden rush of people running down the street below them from the river, emerging suprisingly close in the darkness, only to disappear just as quickly.
Nothing from his life in the foothills of the Red Mountains could have prepared him for what was to come next. Thinking the worst was behind him, he couldn't fathom what they were running from. Still they came on. Then he heard it, like trees crashing in the forest, followed by the sound of timbers exploding. He could see fires on rooftops moving, but not the fires themselves, but the whole roof, the entire building, carrying the fires. He couldn't speak. Suddenly, through the darkness of the street below the water burst through, carrying people, barrels, wood and things unrecognizable. Running people were overrun by the moving mass behind them. Some tried to climb buildings and lamp posts or cling to the eaves of the roofs. Most were carried away, some within a mere 20' of the two on the roof, blasting through the darkness too fast and too far down to help.
The night was one of the longest ones Brenin could ever remember. His burnt throat screamed for something to drink. Both he and Sam had cried so many tears, there were no more. Sitting on the pitched roof was difficult and uncomfortable. Numbness had set in to many of his extremities. Around them, they listened to others all through the night, people unseen crying, calling for help, calling for lost friends and family, dogs barking. A few of the flames still burned, but most of the city they could see was dark. All thoughts of looking for the others in the smoke, steam and darkness was lost in the sheer futility of it.
As dawn broke over the city, the hope that it normally brings was lost as the extent of the devestation began to come clear. Brenin pulled Sam closer to him and felt her shoulder against his figurine. He thought back to his conversation with Lia about her father and his plea to Gozreh for a flood to cleanse the city. Now that he'd seen it firsthand, he had a change of heart. The filth in the street was worse than it ever was. This town would never be the same, and would probably be worse.
As they stood surveying the destruction, Samaritha caught sight of Kwava on the Southern end of the building. They weren't alone.
Lia wants to protect her new home and friends. As their attacker turns and flees, she is torn, but heads toward the Goblin. She hears the commotion caused by the attack and puts her head down to run faster. As she gets closer, she slows down to see where her allies, Brenin and Kwava ended up. As she scans for them, she begins to notice a lightening of the night sky. She pauses and looks up to see what appears to be the sun falling out of the sky. “The blot,” she mutters to herself as she shields her eyes from the bright light. Her pulse races as she hears a thunderous boom. “What have they done?” she whispers to herself as she regains her sight and starts forward, toward the Goblin. All of a sudden the street beneath her feet begins to shake and buck. Lia is frozen to the spot as she hears the earth split. She is tossed about as she sees the horror unfolding around her. Gas lamps explode, buildings are falling around her, and fires start to take what they will. “My friends,” she says to herself and she is torn as to which direction to go. Does she go forward to the Goblin, or does she turn back for her brother and his friends? She pulls herself together and begins to take a step as she hears a crack and boom over her head. She looks up just in time to see a timber from the building next to her as it collides with her head and shoulders. “No!” she thinks as she goes down in the chaos.
Lia slowly becomes aware of the noise around her. As her body checks in, she realizes someone is bent over her. She feels a tug on her hand as all of her senses come back. She is sore and hurt, but as she opens her eyes she finds someone unknown trying to take her ring. She bolts up as the thief scrambles away. She reaches for her rapier only to see it hanging from the thief’s belt as he scampers away. “Oh no you don’t, you rat bastard!” Lia screams as she gives chase. And chase she does. She is hurt and tired but she realizes this is nothing compared to what happened to her beloved city. As she draws nearer to the rogue she sees fallen buildings and fires everywhere. She vaults some fallen rubble to overtake the man and tackles him. “Oy, I didn’t know you were alive!” the ratty man screams as she brings him to the ground. “Here, take it, take it!” The thief tries to dislodge the rapier as Lia kicks him in his side viciously. “You take that, you rank bastard!” she screams as she retrieves her property. “Get out of my sight!” she screams as she lets the man up and he escapes over the rubble.
Her sides heaving, her head pounding, and with blood in her eyes, she surveys the street. “Holy hell,” she whispers as she looks around. She sees fallen buildings, smells the smoke from the fires, and sees bodies and bloodied people everywhere she turns. She tries to figure out just where she is, but the street is unrecognizable to her. “Calistria, help us,” she mutters under her breath as she picks her way down the road. She gets to what was once a cross path, but it is now blocked with a fallen building that is engulfed in flame. She turns, beginning to panic, as she realizes she is lost and alone in the city of her birth. “What has happened?” she mutters to herself, as she begins to hurry in another direction. She is looking for something familiar, anything, as she winds her way among the destruction. She comes to a building that has collapsed in the quake, but is relatively fire free. “I must find where I am,” she thinks as she uses the rubble to climb up. Maybe if she is up higher she can find a landmark, if there are any left. She picks her way over the rooftops, careful to avoid loose timbers and roofing materials. She comes upon a building that is relatively unhurt by the disaster. As she scans the area she can see the gas forges where they left some armor to be altered only yesterday. There are flames licking the sides of the buildings that make the forge and many of the structures next to it are in flames as well.
Lia thinks she has seen enough from her high perch. She takes a last look as she gets her bearings and prepares to head to the Goblin. It’s then that she hears an odd noise. She pauses and turns to look toward the water and is horrified to see a giant wall of water headed her way. She tries to secure her position as she sees entire buildings, people, and debris swept before the wave as it courses through the city. “No,” she whispers to herself as tears course down her face, “No, no, no.” She is lost in despair as she watches the destruction of the city that raised her.
Reese moves to follow Trytan to the Goblin. After talking a few steps she stumbles. Her chest feels all tight as if a half orc has beatin the crap out of her. She falls to her knees. As she reaches to stop Trystan she feels her eyes start to glow. She lifts her head toward the sky not because she wants to but because she has no other choice. The immense fireball she spots burns her eyes and although she tries, she can't look away. Trystan grabs her and gives her a shake. For a split second he blocks her view of the fireball. It is enough to break the trance and she shakes her head wildly and tries to clear her vision.
Just as she is able to start seeing again the ground beneath her feet starts to rumble and open. Reese yells for Trystan to follow her. As they start to move up the street away from the bar she spots Isegrim. She yells to him but he is moving quickly towards the Goblin and doesn't seem to hear her.
Buildings and structures are catching fire and falling all around them but instead of feeling scared and panicky Reese feels invigorated and starts to cackle . She briefly wonders if it's hysteria or her demon blood calling out to her.
As she looks back to see if Trystan noticed her odd behavior she catches a glimpse of the water headed their way. She points and screams hurry as the water swiftly moves up what used to be a decent size street. They find a shop still mostly together and start to climb up. Reese feels the water lapping at her ankles and Trystans hand firmly on her a^^. Before she has time to make a rude comment she finds herself launched to the roof top. She turns to help him and realizes the sacrifice he has made. She watches helpless as he bobs through the water ducking obstacles and swimming for his life. At the limits of her vision she sees him catch a handhold. All she can see is his hand and his feet as the rest of his body appears to be being washed over the edge of something.
Reese feels the tears come but doesn't bother to wipe them. Her survival instinct has kicked in and she turns her head just in time to see a large wooden beam of some sort come flying at her. She's not quite quick enough and the beam smacks her right in the face.
Reese wakes to sound of crying birds and has no idea how much time has passed. She tries to move and recognizes that the damn beam that has her wedged is the same one that popped her earlier. She also realizes that its also the reason she is alive. It takes her most of an hour to free herself but finally she's able to stand. She looks around and marvels at the destruction. Well if that don't prove the devil is for real I don't know what would. She spends time yelling for Trystan and her friends but her screams go unanswered.
Kwava stood tall on the front gable of the casino and fired arrow after arrow at the oncoming attackers, but they were a persistent bunch. Their large frames made easy targets coming up the street like that, the moonlight being what it was. A mix of half-orcs and humans - Zincher and Croat's boys, just as Lia'd predicted. Too many to stop with a bow, they would be at the front doors soon enough. His new friends had enemies alright. Getting pulled into a turf war in the city was not his mission, but these people deserved and needed his help. And there was more to discover to this mystery before he could continue his journey to Celwynvian.
Ganmede's cry off to the right made him turn in time to see dark shadows join him on the roof from the other side of the building. More half-orcs, and they were already at the window. They slipped the casing and were in the casino before he could cross over to stop them. The last turned and saw him coming, but ignored him and entered by the window anyway. No matter, he likely would have died here on this rooftop had he taken on the group single-handedly, maybe four or five strong. The elf stowed his bow and drew his long knife to pursue, and that's when the fireworks began. He stood in dumb amazement as the fire flower blossomed on the horizon.
In the ensuing earthquake Kwava lost his footing and slid down the shingles before catching himself on the crumbling eaves of the Goblin. The bucking building shook him free, but it was enough to arrest his momentum and he landed on the cobbles with relative grace. The narrow side street was rapidly filling with dangerous debris, so he took flight into the open square in front of the goblin. The Goblin's attackers were fleeing and he resisted the temptation to put an arrow in them.
As the city took flame around him he found himself incapable of doing anything at all - just watching in dumb amazement as a sinful city suffered its just desserts. Through it all his mind was taken with one slowly unfolding realization. The dark elves did this with a weapon. An minor apocalypse. What were the dimensions of its power? Could it match the depths of their depravity? Could they duplicate the very circumstances of their own creation? The vision of a new Age of Darkness formed in his mind and it palaysed him like a poison.
He was jolted from his reverie by a lunatic of an old man, running and yelling about a flood. The shaking had stopped, the fire was taking hold of the town. By his judgement, the chaos combined with the closed in streets of wooden buildings... this town was going to burn. A flood might save the town. He scrambled back up the eaves of the Goblin just as the first roller obliterated the docks and broached the ship at port. The wave washed into the streets with iresistable force, the ship stood briefly, incredibly, on its masts then teetered over and came down on its side, crushing warehouses a hundred yards from his perch.
Armageddon. A Second Darkness. He watched as a city died and he dreamed of ancient Celwynvian.
Story continued here.