Chancre doesn't notice anything not already noticed. He looks and the runes. "People say that Dwarven and Giant are the same, but they're really not. People who say that are stupid."
A pause. "That's my commentary, not what the runes say."
Samirah laughs in response to Chancre's comment. "How could they be? The Giant language must be so much larger."
At Roshan's signing, her smile only broadens. "Well, what are we waiting here for, then?" She signs something very lazily by pulling out her scimitar and stabbing the air in the direction of the door. Then she signs something a little more complicated by pointing to her ear and then bringing a closed fist, thumb up, to her stomach and jerking it up and away to her right.
She signs something very lazily by pulling out her scimitar and stabbing the air in the direction of the door. Then she signs something a little more complicated by pointing to her ear and then bringing a closed fist, thumb up, to her stomach and jerking it up and away to her right.
Roshan leaps forward (into a vacant space) with a silent battle cry and a heavy, two-handed assault. Then he looks towards Samirah with a grin and a shrug indicating he's really only guessing.
The second door in the armory opens back into the first hallway you found, a short twenty-feet away from the door that you took to the exterior entrance of the armory. (The place really does seem to be a warren of overlapping pathways.)
Continuing down hall, you come to a set of double doors, the familiar symbol of a fiery longsword carved into the lintel. Once again Miril makes quick work of the ever present lock, opening the door allows a quiet but firm voice to spill into the passage. In response to the words, you hear murmurs of prayers.
Two rows of stone benches face a raised dais to the north, on which stands a twelve-foot-tall statue of an armored woman with a sword and shield. Faded tapestries hang in tatters to either side, and a larger one on the south wall depicts the armored woman on bended knee before a man wearing green robes. Three smaller, human-sized statues of armored knights stand within small alcoves to the west, each holding a longsword pointed downward.
There are three men dressed in the heavy armor of crusaders sited on the forward-most pews, staring raptly at the woman sitting on the dais. A woman whose resemblance to the over-sized statue behind her is uncanny.
She looks up at the door as it opens and after a breath or two the men turn to look as well. She smiles, "It is so very good to see you all." Her voice is just a tad to high to be a true alto.
She looks up at the door as it opens and after a breath or two the men turn to look as well. She smiles, "It is so very good to see you all." Her voice is just a tad to high to be a true alto.
"I will have to take your word, I think." Konstantin strides into the room, unafraid, or at least genetically incapable of giving the tiniest of f$#!s. "It seems a bit early to commission statues of yourself, doesn't it? Especially when you are about to surrender to me?"
Roshan raises an eyebrow. He seems more intent on the statue then the others in the room, though he is not ignoring them.
The woman's severely short bob moves with the shake of her head, the grim smile not quite right on the face. "My statue has stood since before you were born." She motions to the dusty room, "This room held protected by my divine will even when Drezen fell to the demons." She strides forward with a smile, "And, now, my knights have come to chase evil from the walls. Hope could I not send a vision to congratulate and encourage you?"
She looks around the group, her gaze settling on Irabeth, motioning for the half-orc to come forward. "Receive your blessing from Iomeadae, my child."
The face is familiar to all of you from the night following the shattering of the wardstones.
Roshan's arm flashes out sideways, hand splayed in a universal "stop" gesture to those behind him. His head is cocked with eyes slightly narrowed, now focused entirely on the woman and crusaders within the room. His head gives the briefest of shakes and the fingers of his left hand brush ever so lightly over the silver butterfly at his throat.
"You appear to think I was born yesterday," Konstantin says with faint disappointment. Frost begins to form on his hands.
"What, is it not normal for deities to loiter around behind enemy lines?" Taking her cue from Roshan and Konstantin, Samirah unsheathes her weapon and heats it to a nice coal red.
The deific look alike scoffs, only looking slightly hurt by the group's aggressive stance. "Deities don't visit the material plane at all. I'm just a very solid vision that was sent to honor your achievements so far." Although the woman takes no aggressive actions,the crusaders move to defensive positions between bet and the group.
"You visited me in my dreams. What was it you said to me?"
Her eyes glow, the dark brown outlined with a red gold. "When I visited you in your dreams..." her voice trails off and her eyes close as if she is communicating with something unseen.
"Ha!" Samirah points a finger. "No one forgets a night with Samirah Basri." She says smugly. "Even one that is chaste and happens only inside of her head."
"It is proven," says Konstantin. "Surrender, deceiver, or suffer the same fate as all others who have stood against us."
"The discussion of theology!"
"The discussion of theology!"
"The first I have had," Konstantin remarks. "Am I doing it properly?"
"The Sisters who raised me used fewer weapons and spells, but you have the tone right," opines Míril.
"The discussion of theology!""The first I have had," Konstantin remarks. "Am I doing it properly?"
"Yes," Chancre says. "Do be prepared for when she tries to kill you. Theology does that to people."
Míril nods in agreement. "Where I come from, theology discussions are Serious Business," she says, somehow making it so people can hear the capital letters.
"Ha!" Samirah points a finger. "No one forgets a night with Samirah Basri." She says smugly. "Even one that is chaste and happens only inside of her head."
The woman shrugs, "Downside to just being a piece of myself on this plane rather than all of me, remembering things is sometimes hard," her eyes met Samirah for a moment, "I should have it in a moment."
Míril nods in agreement. "Where I come from, theology discussions are Serious Business," she says, somehow making it so people can hear the capital letters.
"Most of our discussions centered around the jadwiga. Whether they would come, who they would take for their dark amusements, and so on."
The woman shrugs, "Downside to just being a piece of myself on this plane rather than all of me, remembering things is sometimes hard," her eyes met Samirah for a moment, "I should have it in a moment."
Samirah steps forward and brings her weapon up. "Were you to appear to me in some other place, some other time, I would give you many moments in which to recall details and banter. But I am tired of sleeping on the ground, and I am tired of the stench of demons and their ilk. If you are who you say you are, you will understand our need to press forward and finish what we have started."
And for all her surface friendliness below she be pissed.
The four men shift uncomfortably for a moment, before mimicking the woman with smiles.
For a moment, it looks as though Samirah would be mollified by what the woman says to her. But she briefly touches the crystal of her necklace before smiling broadly.
"It is always good to hear the compliments again," she says. Then she brings her hand up and blows flames into the faces of everyone standing in front of her.
The wave of intense fire washes over the woman, also catching three of her guards in the blast. Each flash-burns over their entire body, wrenching screams of pain from them as they look near the point of perishing. The one uninjured man looks -- at the woman for direction.
The woman smiles, the human facade melting off of her with the fire to reveal short black hair, red eyes, horns, and leathery wings. "So the gloves are off, darling?"
True demon - fire immune, electric immune, cold resistant, spell resistant and you would greatly prefer cold iron or good weapons.
Planar:
Konstantin, apparently waiting for violence to begin, speaks a word and with a familiar upward gesture, pulls freezing mists from the stones beneath the feet of the men.
Save DC22
Save DC22
"Be careful about the guards!" shouts Míril. "They've been Charmed!"
Not wanting to hurt the charmed human guards if she can help it, Míril dashes and tumbles past them to get behind the faux-goddess, looking for a flanking opportunity.
"They are, and I do apologize for taking as long as I did to remove them." Samirah replies, keeping her attention focused on the demon rather than the men flanking her.
Second hit
Samirah lunges forward to engage the demon, appearing eager to make up for time lost in bantering with her.
At Miril's comment, a brief flicker of anger passes over Samirah's features before she composes herself again. Maybe a little bit of guilt, too.
"Be careful about the guards!" shouts Míril. "They've been Charmed!"
"Then I recommend you kill her quickly, else they will surely freeze."
Roshan
magic: +2/+2
masterwork: +1
Pt.Blank:+1/+1
Deadly Aim:-2/+4
Roshan appears to wait for the traffic to settle slightly, then moves swiftly giving himself the best open lane, slight as it might be. Chakrams, kunai & the golden blur of Radiance flash towards the fiend pretending to be a goddess. Several of which punch through her protections and deep into her vitals.
"Gloves are for people afraid of getting their hands dirty," Chancre says, and looks at his hands.
Chancre grins a crooked grin (not that he has any other kind), and says, "Lady, what's with all the perversion of Iomedae around here? I hear tell she doesn't take kindly to that sort of thing."
Chancre casts True Strike.
Irabth, Anevia, and Aron move into the room and attack/heal if possible. Nurah inspire. Sosiel bless. Aravvashnial hold to the end of combat and then cast if needed.
One of the flash-fried men looks to the succubus, his voice cracking with the inhaled fire, "Janeamine?"
Chancre grins a crooked grin (not that he has any other kind), and says, "Lady, what's with all the perversion of Iomedae around here? I hear tell she doesn't take kindly to that sort of thing."
Chancre casts.
The succubus doesn't seem to respond to her defender, but he straightens - slightly, as much as his burns allow - and he squares his shoulders against the 'intruders'.
Janeamine, however, does respond to Chancre. Glancing up at statue sideways, "She's the ideal women for oh so many of the self-sacrificing, hard-up warriors that you send out here." She chuckles, a lascivious smile curving her lips just enough to show bright white teeth. "Just giving them their goddess in the flesh, everything they want for everything I want."
"My side always pays on our deals, rather than expected one-sided worship."
Janeamine's eyes slide over the people in the group, calculating, smiling at Miril. "A lover who knows all your fantasies and can give them to you, doesn't that sound just peachy?" This time the glow of magic is obvious, although the effect is invisible.
Not quite fast enough to change what the succubus does, Anevia slips through the door being held open by Irabeth and ( at the last moment, Anevia shifts her sword to hit the guard in the temple with the pommel of the sword. He falls to the ground in a boneless heap.
Samirah lunges forward to engage the demon, (not caring that the three remaining charmed men take the chance to attack her vs , and she is justified in regards to her skill as none of the attacks come close enough to touch her) appearing eager to make up for time lost in bantering with her. Both of Samirah's attacks slice through the demon-woman's flesh, causing a quick gasp of pain. Then she smiles, "Got to love the sting, but can you take as good as you give, fire head."
It is just a flick of her head and the trained warriors move to encircle Samirah, longswords flickering out to damage the nimble fighter. ( vs ; ) Perhaps distracted by her own attack, or maybe because the charmed men were able to coordinate their offense, this time Samirah is hit by two heavy blows.
From the hallway outside, "My behind feels far less safe with all the people with pointy swords running in that direction," Nurah's dry voice. "It reminds me of the battle of frostmire, where the fiendish ice giants took an attacking force from the rear when they had a small group drawing the attention of the crusaders."
Konstantin, apparently waiting for violence to begin, speaks a word and with a familiar upward gesture, pulls freezing mists from the stones beneath the feet of the men. One of the men injured by Samirah's fire falls to the ground, his body rigid with the cold. Although the cold only does only minor damage to the demon, the intense arcane cold staggers her.
Aravashnial takes a single step in the room, his all grey eyes scanning the room. Looking for something.
Aron moves into the room, pulling his short sword then ( viciously stabs the uninjured man in the kidneys.
Roshan appears to wait for the traffic to settle slightly, then moves swiftly giving himself the best open lane, slight as it might be. Chakrams, kunai & the golden blur of Radiance flash towards the fiend pretending to be a goddess. Several of which punch through her protections and deep into her vitals.
Just before the blankness of death comes into the demon's eyes, she breathes in deeply - both of the remaining charmed men falling to the ground as vitality saps from their bodies. Grey streaks across hair and skin, turning skin papery.
Aravashnial nods, "You all really are amazing, you know."
Samirah -13
The woman's voice echoes in Miril's head, becoming the only thing she can focus on and believe. "Kill them all for me, beautiful."
"Always when I have a response to the comment," Chancre says.
Konstantin looks to the healers. "Save the charmed ones you can, but bind them first. I don't trust the succubus's magic to wane simply because she's dead."
"Always when I have a response to the comment," Chancre says.
Roshan's face appears sad for an instant as his fist circles in front of his chest.
Konstantin looks to the healers. "Save the charmed ones you can, but bind them first. I don't trust the succubus's magic to wane simply because she's dead."
Roshan looks first to Miril. If she is otherwise preoccupied he will do it.
Aravashnial nods, "You all really are amazing, you know."
"We know." Samirah responds with a grin as she taps the scale against herself.
She looks down at the fallen men, her grin fading slightly. "I had assumed..." She shrugs, looking uncomfortable. Then she turns her attention to Chancre. "Has there been a time you did not have a response to a comment?" She asks dryly.
Roshan looks first to Miril. If she is otherwise preoccupied he will do it.
Roshan looks first to Miril. If she is otherwise preoccupied he will do it.
"Has there been a time you did not have a response to a comment?" She asks dryly.
Chancre frowns and taps his forehead. "It's situational," he says.
The two that are deceased are the one that Aron stabbed and the one that got hit by the frost. Although in both cases, it seems as if they would have survived if it wasn't for what the succubus took.
Listening at the other entrance into the Iomeadaen temple, you hear a loud electric crackling. Wing beats and very loud pissed off swearing in abyssal.
Konstantin gallantly motions for Samirah to lead the way. Ladies, and dervishes, first.
"These guys are alive," Chancre says, "but in bad shape. Whatever she did at the end there brought them closer to the big death.
Huh."
Chancre takes a moment to point out the secret door under the Perception DC 30 spoiler.
Now do thief-y stuff! (although if you'd like to have a breaking free of the dominate that would be fantastic.)
Samirah responds to Konstantin with a very courteous bow. "Such a gentleman, even in the midst of war."
She leaves the healers to heal and slides the wall away to reveal the hidden door. She hesitates for a moment at the door when she hears the abyssal ruckus to the east, but proceeds into the hidden area instead.
After a quick discussion (and when the two living men are bound hand and foot), Sosiel does a quick channel () ensuring that Samirah is also in the radius.
Within the secret vault, Samirah reveals two more statues of the warrior-goddess, her sword raised. Although this must have once been a vast treasury, the numerous chests now lay empty or smashed to rubble.
Aron, who had been close to working the lock in the eastward heading door (towards the sound of abyssal swears) stops and moves into the room, he shakes his head once. His right hand jitters against his thigh. "F+~!. Forgot they told me about this."
He points to the blank west wall in the vault, "This is a fake, their should be another door there and that was the vault where the crusaders hid the Sword of Valor."