Solvistania draws another arrow and readies to fire at Dorzar once the door is opened.
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The doors break away from the hinges and crash on the ground. A way opens to the room obviously designed to be a forge. Behind huge anvil Dorzar crouches with a strange crossbow. Solvi's arrow bounces of the anvil, while he lets not one but two bolts from his weapon. "Die, heretic!" he screams.
One bolt misses Sorok, but the other slams through him and exits through his back.
1d20
The doors break away from the hinges and crash on the ground. A way opens to the room obviously designed to be a forge. Behind huge anvil Dorzar crouches with a strange crossbow. Solvi's arrow bounces of the anvil, while he lets not one but two bolts from his weapon. "Die, heretic!" he screams. 1d20 + 6; 1d10 + 6 1d20 + 6; 1d10 + 6
One bolt misses Sorok, but the other slams through him and exits through his back.
Gilian touches Sorok's back and sends forwards a burst of healing.
Chops dives forward and somersaults with the flames licking at his legs. He comes up from his roll and dives at Dorzar.
...lifts the black dwarf and drags him out from behind the anvil.
Solvistania screams as the flames engulf her but perhaps the flames were not as potent as she thought, as she still is conscious, although badly hurt.
"You bastard...!"
Solvistania screams as the flames engulf her but perhaps the flames were not as potent as she thought, as she still is conscious, although badly hurt.
"You bastard...!"
Gilian moves to Sorok side, nealy elbowing Solvistania in her haste.
"Not another one today! Stay with us, breathe. I'll take care of the rest."
CLW for
With a yell of fury Ilona charges Dorzor blade flashing forward.
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Chops dives forward and somersaults with the flames licking at his legs. He comes up from his roll and dives at Dorzar.
...lifts the black dwarf and drags him out from behind the anvil.
You reach to grab Dorzar, but he grabs a strange-looking waraxe near him and swings at you. "Back, you mutt!"
...and he misses. Ilona tries to stab him with his blade, but it gets tangled in his robes and fails to hurt him.
You reach to grab Dorzar, but he grabs a strange-looking waraxe near him and swings at you. "Back, you mutt!"
Ragnar moves in with Ilona, in step, exactly the way he used to with his brother, moving around to flank and threaten with his greater reach. His lips curl in rage as he stabs the evil dwarf with his father's spear.
The spear lodges into Dorzar's chest. Blood rushes through his open mouth. "Izrador..." he whispers - and dies.
The dworg tosses Dorzar down into the corner. Then he undoes his trousers and micturates into the hole Ragnar's spear rent in the evil dwarf's chest. "Who is pissing on who now, b!!*~!"
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After the fight ended, you find yourselves panting and fighting for air. The rush was incredible and you just now realize that two of your comrades are dead. Progenitor's whispers are growing stronger while your eyes wonder through the room in which Dorzar made his last stand.
The room is obviously a forge. It looks strangely untouched by ancient battles that had ruined entire underground complex. Almost like the dwarfs that fought Progenitor were hesitant to befoul a place of creating, even if it belonged to the foul creature of Shadow. Every tool known or needed for forging metal can be seen on the pegs on the walls and in the middle of the room, behind huge anvil where Dorzar hid, there is a strange hearth. Surrounded by black stones, flames in that fireplace burn green with great heat and intensity, but there is no fuel in the fireplace. On a closer look, you realize that the black stones are in fact skulls...
Ragnar yanks his spear free of Dorzar's chest and looks at the air above him.
"Look away kid. You don't want to see this."
Ragnar seems confused, but turns around. A moment later a shiver runs through him. He lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"There. It's over."
Ilona stares down at the body, after Chops is finished defiling it, a look of intensity in her eyes.
"You're just the first of many. For every one of us you take, we will take a hundred. You have taken four of ours. We owe you in spades."
Her words carry the edge of a threat and the power of a prayer. All in the room feel it strike a chord in their souls.
Ragnar turns again and looks down at Dorzar's body.
"Is it always like that?"
"Only with the worst of them. That's the reward the faithful get. They never see it coming, and it's never pretty."
Ilona looks up at Ragnar and Muni's conversation.
"You all right? I'm assuming you saw something ugly the rest of us can't"
Solvistania walks over to the hearth that holds the strangely burning flame, and nods at Ilona's words. The shadow would pay with the bodies and souls for this. She then turns her attention to the flames, almost mesmerized. "This has to be the nexus I sensed earlier."
She turns to the surviving members of the group, and speaks, "I can attune myself to this Nexus, which allows me to access the power, but it will take time. Time we may not have. All in the group feel the Progenitor stirring...
Ilona looks up at Ragnar and Muni's conversation.
"You all right? I'm assuming you saw something ugly the rest of us can't"
"Same as before with that acolyte. The Dark One calls the souls of those who served him in life. That's the reward their faith gets 'em. It ain't fun to watch."
"Good."
She looks into Ragnar's eyes.
"That's what they get, it's what they deserve. Those who have honor stay and join our fight. Never feel guilty about those you carry with you. You give them the chance to keep on fighting."
Ragnar listens to Ilona and eventually just glances around him, probably at the spirits that crowd the room, and shrugs. He looks to Solvistania.
"Dorzar did not loosen the stone. It may be that this is always the way it is here. In either case, we should take the time to search the library here."
"And you got some work to do. This forge will be perfect."
Solvistania tears her gaze away from the hearth with some reluctance, and gives Ragnar a nod, "Very well, I shall get started now." She motions to Chops and Gilian, "I will need some assistance, please come with me."
She walks over to the library and starts searching the remains of the books and scrolls left.
"Alright, kid. I don't do this very often, but someone out there likes you. You remember your father, right? Well, I want you to think on him really hard."
Ragnar's brows raise. He looks to the spear he carries and the pennant that drifts lazily despite the still air.
"Father..."
The bird's head snaps to the side, towards the fires of the forge.
"Damn, kid. That was supposed to take a whole lot longer. You've got some powerful stuff going on in there."
Muni flaps to a tool rack and watches as the big Dorn turns.
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Solvistania tears her gaze away from the hearth with some reluctance, and gives Ragnar a nod, "Very well, I shall get started now." She motions to Chops and Gilian, "I will need some assistance, please come with me."
She walks over to the library and starts searching the remains of the books and scrolls left.
His eyes go wide and he takes a few unconcious steps toward the green flames. He stands silently.
"We tried to find you. We tried. All the other bodies, all the other souls, they were all there. All trapped. Not you."
He clutches the bone beads woven into his thick braided beard.
"We found your body, but I never found your soul."
Tears well and spill down his face.
The moaning of the spirits around him quiets, the starry light growing brighter, revealing them to be eyes.
Eyes of children and fallen heroes, gazing quietly at the figure that flickers in and out of vision, made of shadow and smoke, eyes of the same green flame. A Dorn. Broad and powerful, stern as winter, calm as ice. He simply nods, in the same slow, understanding manor as Ragnar does, and points.
The shattered swords on his back lift from their sheathes, depositing themselves in Ragnar's hands. He looks at them. With a jerk they crash together so that he is forced to hold them both in in one two-handed grip.
Ragnar looks up at the ghost of his father.
"I understand"
Nightflier
Chops will wander about, looking for anything useful after helping Solvistania. That includes taking all of the items from Pete and Anvindr's bodies.
Soroks eyes snap open. He can still feel the heat from the alchemists fire that Dorzar threw, still feel the bolt in his chest, but that doesn't matter now. All that matters is killing Dorzar. He snatches up his shortsword rolls to his feet away from Gilian and starts to charge into the fray, only to come to a sudden stop when he sees Ragnar finish Dorzar with a mighty thrust of his spear.
Too late, it's over.
As the adrenaline wears off Sorok looks around the room at his rescuers in turn. Though some died he owed them all his life. Ragnar the mighty dornish warrior who called upon the spirits of his fallen people to fight against the shadow once more or for guidance in life, along with his strange talking bird made him no ordinary warrior. Ilona the fierce Sarcosan warrior woman who was both graceful and alluring despite not being Dwarven herself. Chops the absurdly good natured Dworg who smiled just as much when cracking jokes as he did an enemies skull with either his hatchets or his fists. Gilian the wise and kind hearted small Erenlander woman who, by the descriptions he had heard before meeting Pete, would have resembled a halfling. Solvistania the frail blood color eyed elf who was calculating with a dangerous level of intelligence and could wield magic as easily as he could wield a weapon. All of them different but all of them tied together. They had a goal. They had saved him and he would return the favor by helping them see it through to the end.
Sorok will help Chops in looking for useful items.
Perception: Take 20 for 28.
There were quite a few of them down here, they must have a supply of food somewhere.
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Sorok will help Chops in looking for useful items.
Perception: Take 20 for 28.
There were quite a few of them down here, they must have a supply of food somewhere.