| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The undead child tries biting at Gergo as he rolls by...
...and its teeth CLACK together as it bites nothing but air.
Gergo's sword handle delivers two decisive strikes that are enough to send the little creature reeling. It screams in anguish and bites blindly at the man...
It manages to bite down on Gergo's shield, narrowly missing his arm.
Then it tries to touch him...
...and comes dangerously close to grazing his shin with its small hand. If its vision wasn't impaired, it would've hit for certain.
Friday calmly walks over and buries his spear into the pitiful creature.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The attic whisperer's back caves in around Friday's spear, sending dust flying. Somehow, the creature still clings to unlife, despite the devastating blow it just took.
Haru starts singing again.
Gergo's movement were akin to that as a beast as he shifted behind the small undead while keeping a low stance to keep bites to a minimum. Now their foe had to choose between defending against Kavell's long reaching pole-arm or the wild man's equally wild sword swinging.
A savage downward cut was unleashed by Gergo, the sword whispering softly as it brushed against the air.
The undead child staggers to the side, causing Gergo's sword to miss completely.
He slashed downwards trying to desperately end the undead creatures suffering... perhaps too eager however.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Kavell's swing is more accurate this time, his glaive burying itself in the attic whisperer's chest. The creature sobs once more, and falls to its knees.
The sound of a child's death rattle fills the room as the creature's form dissolves into dust and fades away.
"Oh! Don't worry Miss Zaiobe, it's at peace again." Friday says gently as he waves at the harpy.
With the room calm again Friday will look the room over.
After such a battle Gergo would usually be invigorated, ecstatic, and all too ready for another, but the whole affair left a sour taste in his mouth. From what his companions explained the thing wasn't alive, but it looked like a child and sobbed like a child...and it despite the fact that it no longer wasn't, that did not mean he'd feel like this was a battle well fought.
"Bah, I need some air, maybe some rain" The sound of steel scraping against leather followed that exclamation; Gergo's sword was back in its scabbard "There is another bird man hiding under a bed, if you all want to put it out of its misery and need some help let me know" One slow and surprisingly somber step at a time Gergo exited the room, his now free right hand rummaging through his messy, blond mane.
"As we are now we might not be able to save her today, though I am loathe to leave someone behind."
You did a very good thing Gergo, that creature is now at rest, its soul free to go to its just resting place. I need your strength friend... I hear their are Ogrekin downstairs guarding the prisoner...Have you bested an Ogre yet?"
He tactfully asked trying to cheer up the large warrior even as he made his way back torwards the study. If he were alone in trying to free this prisoner he would go nonetheless.
"Being around it just made me feel down...and I know it wasn't a kid or if it was it wasn't anymore, still didn't make it feel right" The scarred man was standing against a wall, his eyes looking in the direction of the paladin "Bah, I forgot that we had a prisoner to save! And no I never fought an ogre" A dangerous gleam slowly flickered and then burned within the eyes of Gergo, his smile slowly returning "Lets go!" He gave Kavell an overly strong but friendly swat to the shoulder, before stowing his shield behind his back and freeing his axe from its harness.
"Maybe there is more fun to be had in this place!"
The party passes through the dead oni's study and through the room beneath it. A large table lies in shambles in the middle of this room, while crumbled suits of armor bearing decorations of dragons twisting around castle towers lie in heaps along the walls. The air in this room feels stuffy and carries an eye-watering reptilian stink.
The source of the reek becomes quite apparent when the party reaches the bottom of the stairs--a pair of humanoids with dull, scaly grey hides. Their frames resemble those of cave lizards, with long tails and crests on their heads and backs. As soon as they see the party coming, they *hiss* and immediately turn tail, running for a doorway in the south wall of the room!
"Troglodytes - they have a horrible stench, maybe don't get too close!" Haru says, then coughs, sounding a bit hoarse. "Uh, I think my singing is done for the day... Need to rest the vocal cords."
Haru takes aim and looses an arrow at the closest Trog.
He moved forward using the length of his weapon to stab at the back of the fleeing creature.
Valeria moved up and unleashed another gout of fire at the other creature, making the most of the clear shot before Gergo charged in.
A mad grin could be seen on Gergo's face as he dashed in a zig-zagging path towards the lizard, his axe dragged along the way causing the floor to scream as it fought against its blade.
In an instant Gergo leapt, swung around himself and caused his axe to travel in a semi perfect circle before it came crashing down on his unfortunate foe.
Friday charges in a much more direct fashion than Gergo at the lizardfolk.
The flurry of attacks & fire from the party is enough to slaughter both troglodytes, dropping them to the floor. Their stench doesn't seem to abate--if anything, they start to stink even more.
"I hear growling from the right, can't hear anything from the other paths." Friday murmurs.
Paugh.... as foul a stench as ever I have smelt. Growling from the right? Let us check on the left then go torwards where those foul smelling What did you call them Miss Haru? troglodyes? we headed...
He began covering his mouth and nose with a hand.
The doorway immediately to the left opens into what was once a barracks. Several ruined beds lie in various states of disrepair in this room, their mouldy mattresses piled into a filthy heap against the northern wall.
Two more troglodytes are snoring atop the mattresses, completely oblivious to the party as they open the door.
The doorway to the southeast opens up into a large hall. Rotting, faded banners hang from the walls of this long hall, depicting a stylized castle sitting on a seaside cliff. Thick stone pillars support the ceiling, while at the far end of the hall sits an old wooden throne, its back carved to resemble the towers of a castle wrapped in the coils of a serpentine dragon.
Seeing more sleeping opponents Friday falls into a prowl without missing a beat and moves over to closet one.
One troglodyte dies with a gurgle as Friday impales it on the end of his spear. The smell becomes overpowering for the warrior, even more so than from the previous room.
Withholding the urge to gag Friday turns and attempts to send the creature's comrade along with him.
The other troglodyte is dispatched just as easily.
Taking a moment to steady himself afterwards and keep his breakfast down he finally takes a deep and steady breath after a painful minute.
Crouching down he carefully retrieve the silk garment he spied when entering the room and take it to the others.
An interesting treasure that, Im sure it will be quite beautiful cleaned up... probably with magic if anyone has any that will effect, By the goddess those things smell something terrible. I am sorry my friend Friday, there is nothing I can do to help your quesy stomach im afraid.
He said to the young man with some sadness.
"It'll pass." Friday calmly says, not wanting to let his mouth stay open too long.
Once the party has had a chance to get their bearings (and their appetites), they set out down the stairs into the dungeons below.
The stairs down are dark, damp and musty-smelling, with the only source of light being what the party brings with them. At the bottom of the steps is a battered oaken door, reinforced with iron studs. The smell of troglodyte becomes stronger here--though it's not yet powerful enough to turn one's stomach.
Friday creeps about towards the door before opening it carefully.
As Friday opens the door, the smell of reptiles becomes more pungent. Long benches in various states of disrepair and several battered and filthy wooden tables stand between stone pillars in this room. A great set of double doors stands on the northeastern wall, and another door is half-open on the southeast wall.
Five troglodytes appear to be in conversation here, *hissing* and growling in a strange language. They don't appear to have noticed Friday's intrusion.
Friday appears to have become acclimated to the reek of reptiles by now--or at least, these ones appear to have the decency to bathe once in a blue moon.
Turning to the others he holds his hand with all four fingers and the thumb, then waits to see if the archers decide to open the fight or if he should rush in.
Friday charges the one of the far left.