Imbrex. Percy explains in an incantation break. He exists as a statue hundreds of feet tall. It is said that the First World will end when he decides to start moving. A worthy patron, don't you think?
"What do other patrons do?" Neverhome asked while scratching his head. To him a statue that brought about the end of the world didn't really seem like something you would want to venerate, especially sometime so full of life like Percy. But he apparently gave her her magical abilities so apparently he did other stuff. "Was he one who appeared when we brought Gruff back?"
Percy nods. He is the one who changed my eye. And destroyed Evil Gruff with his lightning. These evil statues we keep destroying are just corrupted shadows of his divine radience.
I was wondering why statues had in for us... "And are there others like him? I know of Mamushka's Pharasma of life and death, Desna of dreams, Imbrex of statues, and sunflower... Sarenrae?"
Ered coughs.
"Save it for later, children." The elf swipes the dust from the statues off his blade. He looks about, listening at the strange noises.
"We can talk more once we've killed us a dragon." Sigrun says moving forward, stylized greatsword in hand.
"Let us knock then." Neverhome says while wearing a snarl, just the mention of the dragon irritating to him, and was becoming more irritating since he couldn't place why it irritated him in the first place.
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Allie taps her foot, impatient and nervous. "We are spending way too much time here. We have enough weapons to get through here. We can repair them later. This isn't safe."
"Yup, let's move." Zses nods to Allie "We have to get into the dragon's lair before he comes back.".
Ten minutes pass as Percy completes her spell. The weapon looks visibly better. Fortunately, nobody seems to have noticed your presence - perhaps the constantly-grinding of gears is a good thing, after all.
Neverhome will move forth to open the front door, cautiously eyeing it as he does so.
Sword drawn, Sigrun follows, scanning the area for any sign of danger.
Percy effortlessly twirls her lightning dire flail while waiting for the door to open. A pulse of divine approval rolls over the group.
This large room contains little in the way of furniture other than five beds sized for giants and two large chests. A five-foot-square extension runs from floor to ceiling near the southeast corner with a small rectangular access door at its base. A heavy, pervasive musky smell fills the entire room.
Two of the beds are occupied by Ice Trolls who growl sleepily at you when the door opens.
Where were these beds when me and... Neverhome's thoughts snap back to the present as he spots the grumbling trolls. Dropping to a crouch he makes his way over to the nearest one and tries to plunge his blade into the creature's brain, his hatred for these iconic servants of the Witches burning through his body as he does so.
The vehemence running through his blood turning it to poison it starts to leak from his scars and wounds and from tips of his nails, looking more and more like claws as he stalked. Exposed to the air the blood-turned-poison combusts into flicks of green balefire as it coats his blade while his hate heated the thankfully resilient dark blade to a profane degree.
Slipping in alongside Lyosha she could feel the rage radiating off of him, the burning and searing of his inner violent self hurngrily seeking prey. With a small cold smile she plunges the dragonblade deep into the troll, practically nailing it to the bed.
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Both trolls are quickly and silently dispatched by the Barbarian duo. There's not much of value in the room, although the chests hold a total of 40gp (in addition to a host of smelly, worthless personal effects). However, buried at the bottom of one chest, you find a sketchbook filled with provocative illustrations of Jadwiga Elvanna in various states of undress. The artist is extremely talented, so this could be worth quite the sum to the right collector . Of course, if Queen Elvanna found out about this, she'd probably be quite ... upset.
You hear the sounds of eating from the southern door.
The elf proceeds to remove the heads from these nasty creatures, feeling it best they take no chances. Trolls were always dangerous and something never to be trusted. Any creature that would utilize trolls didn't want something that died easily, and taking off the head would be the best way to keep these things down....Hopefully.
Cracking his knuckles, the elf looks down at his weapon and slings the blood off with one swing, watching the swiftly cooling blood against the wall.
Any advice for this particular tower? Or in general, having seen the tactical side of this group?
Searching through the chests was amusing till of course the book was found. Had he been in that strange winter wolf form all humanized he would no doubt have been red from eartip to toe.
I have heard those Galtan women use to pose for portraits such as these but.. I had no idea.
He said helpfully setting it aside...torwards his pack. At the sound of the noise from things eating he frowned.
Do we perhaps make some noise ambush them as they come to investigate?
He questioned moving closer to the door.
The elf turns and looks about the room, observing the various angles leading to the door and looks to the small fiery one and then back to the door.
"Multiple options at this point. We have a choke point, or we can attempt to force our way in and spread across the room for a volley maneuver."
"Offense is the best defense. Besides I can't shoot over you people yet." Hobbes says drawing his bow.
"Let's try to go in and take them by surprise." Zses says, trying to keep his voice down. "Unless they're cutting meat with waraxes, I think we'll be able to get a drop on them if they're eating."
Percy finds herself in the odd position of agreeing with Zses and admitting it.
Sounds good.
She was still struggling to think of him as more than a witch she would eventually gut and roast for hurting her sister, but she was trying, at least.
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Arching a brow at spying the nudes Neverhome was more than a little conflicted. On one hand she was beautiful and they were well made. On the other she was also a witch. On the other-other she was also his grandmother... great-grandmother... great-great-grandmother?
Granted he had never seen any other types of art of this nature... he wondered what Sigrun would look like scribed down on pages...
Three giant chairs are arrayed around an enormous wooden table that is shoved into the southeast corner of this room. Piles of discarded bones and partially cooked meat heaped upon oversize platters cover the surface of the table. The sickly smell of blood and death is everywhere.
Finishing up their grisly meal are a pair of ice trolls. They turn in their seats in surprise as you throw open the door.
Neverhome charges the first troll he sees as soon as the door is opened.
The elf grins, a series of multi-hued after images appear, as his body moves unnaturally fast to the other troll. Even though he nears the other troll, his movement is so fast that it gives him the opening he needs to strike at the dining creature.
Percy enters and tries to fling a bolt of fire at the trolls, but has to divert it to avoid scorching Neverhome.
He wasnt as quick to rush in as the others it seemed, but he moved into the room deftly moving to strike hard and fast.
Hobbes whistles for Hila to jump into the fray after he casts a spell empowering her fangs.
Anxious from statues that couldn't be bitten, the pup moves in, fangs aglow.
Charging the same troll as Lyosha Sigrun brings the greatsword slicing into the vile icetroll.
As the others burst trough the door, Zses glances first at the odd bones on the platters, and then at the orc that was yet to be attacked by the barbarians.
Average 11.44
Average 11.50
Your attacks tear into the Trolls, but they react swiftly with tooth and claw.
Neverhome and Ered are clawed and bitten. .
Your Turns
Friend Neverhome what did that troll in the other room say to you when you cut its head off... Oh wait thats right nothing...Like you two .
He growled out, as he deftly struck at the troll between him and Ered.
The elf grins, his weapon growing black spikes that glisten like icicles in the sun, even as the blood flows dark from beneath his armor.
"Let's take them apart."
Hobbes draws his bow and fires at one of them.
Hila bites a troll while flanking.
Snarling back at the giant-kin as it mauls him Neverhome's hate and blade re-ignite as he slashes back while moving into a flank with his partner.
Focusing a dark incantation on the troll he had already hexed, Zses chuckles.
"That claw-slashing was the last you'll ever do!"
As Sigrun embraces her own rage she seems to become doubly alive, her every movement and expression like a brilliant painting almost overwhelmingly vibrant, thrumming with power.
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