::Cladissa, if you are listening in: this is a type of Nightwing, one that has been turned into a type of undead known as a Nightshade. Beyond typical undead traits, it is also highly resilient against anything except good aligned attacks and silver weapons. It is also totally impervious to cold, and very resistant to magic. Though, it is quite weak to light, if we can expose it to the sun.::
::I've heard of their kind. This is a foe quite beyond us. It has many spell abilities, including finger of death, and can channel negative energy like an evil cleric. Those other patches of darkness that went into the ground are probably greater shadows that it has summoned::
::It will probably kill us. I'm sorry I haven't been able to draw your soul toward goodness, Argor::
A mental scoff makes its way through to Cladissa. ::I have no intentions of dieing this day. Support our warriors. Let them deal with this foe.::
::We will all die without divine intervention:: she replies sadly.
"Or a charmed dragon," Argor mentally grumbles.
Gianluca freezes momentarily as an enormous otherworldly being bites into his chest, crushing his ribs and puncturing his right lung.
He tries his best to fight through the pain but fails, instead passing out with a gurgling wheeze and then dropping to the arena floor with a sickening, bloody thud.
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Two of the orbs dive for the arena floor, and disappear beneath the sand before the group can get a glimpse at what might hide in their centers.
A third globe swoops over the seating before plunging towards Gianluca in a rapid dive bomb. As the darkness envelops him, Gianluca sees what is attacking him. A bat-like terror of purest stygian darkness, fully twenty feet from head to tail, and with a massive eighty foot wingspan bites at him with all the momentum of its charge.
Gianluca freezes momentarily as an enormous otherworldly being bites into his chest, crushing his ribs and puncturing his right lung. He tries his best to fight through the pain but fails, instead passing out with a gurgling wheeze and then dropping to the arena floor with a sickening, bloody thud.
Cladissa's heart seizes in her chest as she thinks she recognizes their next foe, then she gasps in terror as it rips into Gianluca with its unnatural bite. "Oh, gods! I--Iomedae! A nightshade!" she stammers out. She begins praying fervently. Iomedae, blessed Inheritor, please help!! Seeing how big the winged terror is, Cladissa bends fortune in Gianluca's favor.
Argor hovers into the middle of the group for safety, then attempts to expose the creature to the light of day! He struggles against the strength of the creature's magic, and fails to dispel it.
Grommesson moves toward the noise of the flying terror and attempts to hit it. Even leaping as high as he can, the beastly son of Grommuk can not reach the nightshade.
::Cladissa, if you are listening in: this is a type of Nightwing, one that has been turned into a type of undead known as a Nightshade. Beyond typical undead traits, it is also highly resilient against anything except good aligned attacks and silver weapons. It is also totally impervious to cold, and very resistant to magic. Though, it is quite weak to light, if we can expose it to the sun.::
::I've heard of their kind. This is a foe quite beyond us. It has many spell abilities, including finger of death, and can channel negative energy like an evil cleric. Those other patches of darkness that went into the ground are probably greater shadows that it has summoned::
::It will probably kill us. I'm sorry I haven't been able to draw your soul toward goodness, Argor::
A mental scoff makes its way through to Cladissa. ::I have no intentions of dieing this day. Support our warriors. Let them deal with this foe.::
::We will all die without divine intervention:: she replies sadly.
As her acid burns to continue to rapidly heal, Sabrina decides to further layer her magical protections. After casting Shield of Faith, she slowly advances in the direction of the sounds of combat. Having no idea what else to do, Olympia continues to follow Cladissa's voice.
The piercing cry of a raptor shrieks through the air as a large bird of prey blazing with the light of the sun dives from high in the air to strike the nightshade from above!
A burst of verdant energy erupts as the bird impacts the undead, then bright green light reminiscent of the first buds of spring arcs through the nightwing's dark body like lightning. It curls back in apparent pain, and when the green light fades there are smoldering cracks running through the nightwing's body, leaking negative energy like blood.
================================
Cladissa feels a calm force settle on to her like a warm blanket. ::Just a moment, child. Help is on the way,:: rings out in her mind, the voice of a female battlefield commander confident in her authority.
The nightshade whips around, fast as a hunting ray in the sea, biting at the small raptor hovering above it.
The....osprey, yes the Freaks can see its an osprey now, flaps its wings hard bobbing up just high enough to dodge the nightwing's black maw.
Rutai flies invisibly over to Gianluca and taps him with the wand, closing his wound somewhat.
Grommesson jumps up and down trying to hit the winged terror.
Tears stream down Cladissa's face as new hope surges in her breast. The voice she heard in her head is exactly as she imagined it, meaning a small bit of doubt crept into her mind that she was imagining everything. But instead her mind works and concludes that with the dispelling of the undead monstrosity's darkness, it should be sickened and vulnerable. If she could only punch through its resistances, it may succumb to her most potent spells.
Cladissa steps forward, focusing her Witch's powers on the nightshade.
After initial thought was to turn this nightmare into a harm
Her initial thought was to turn this nightmare into a harmless mouse, but she recalls that the undead would be immune. So she sends Cole flying to Gianluca, charged up with her small amount of healing to deliver to him.
Pondering his nex move, Argor decides it would be best to bolster their warriors, and retrieves a scroll at his disposal as he flies around the monstrosities probable reach to get to Gianluca's side. He reads off the magic and taps Gianluca on the back of the neck, immediately providing him a sense of grand heroics.
Gianluca rises from the dirt of the arena, glad to feel he's not dead.
With ribs still broken he chooses to stand his ground, keeping a ready eye on the sky.
Cladissa feels a calm force settle on to her like a warm blanket. ::Just a moment, child. Help is on the way,:: rings out in her mind, the voice of a female battlefield commander confident in her authority.
The nightshade whips around, fast as a hunting ray in the sea, biting at the small raptor hovering above it. The....osprey, yes the Freaks can see its an osprey now, flaps its wings hard bobbing up just high enough to dodge the nightwing's black maw.
Rutai flies invisibly over to Gianluca and taps him with the wand, closing his wound somewhat.
As her wounds continue to rapidly heal, Sabrina casts Displacement on herself and moves to guard Gianluca from further harm. As ordered, Olympia continues to guard Cladissa.
Grommesson jumps up and down trying to hit the winged terror.
Tears stream down Cladissa's face as new hope surges in her breast. The voice she heard in her head is exactly as she imagined it, meaning a small bit of doubt crept into her mind that she was imagining everything. Her initial thought was to turn this nightmare into a harmless mouse, but she recalls that the undead would be immune. So she sends Cole flying to Gianluca, charged up with her small amount of healing to deliver to him.
Pondering his nex move, Argor decides it would be best to bolster their warriors, and retrieves a scroll at his disposal as he flies around the monstrosities probable reach to get to Gianluca's side. He reads off the magic and taps Gianluca on the back of the neck, immediately providing him a sense of grand heroics.
Osprey attempts to flap away from the nightmare, but it has little trouble biting at him as he tries to get away.
The wildshaped druid barely manages to dodge the nightmare again, plummeting for the ground. He lands between Cladissa and Grommesson, shrieking.
A moment later a portal with the silhouette the shape of a longsword stabbed point down into the arena sand opens nearby, glowing bright white. On the other side a hellish landscape briefly appears, demonic shrieks ringing through. Then Sir Preston charges through sword raised, a battle cry on his lips. For all of two seconds he looks supremely shocked and confused, but takes in the chaos around him quickly. He recognizes Argor and Gianluca, as well as the Irorium. "What the hells!?" he demands, shifting back into a fighting stance as he turns to the nightmare.
The enraged undead shrieks a noise that has the Pathfinders checking to confirm that their ears aren't bleeding, before the thunderclap of its massive wings announces it landing.
A wave of simmering black energy burst out of the huge shadowy thing, rolling over the Freaks and their allies.
================================
Gianluca steels his will to resist the wave of unlife, and is bolstered by his success.
He steps forward and--despite his broken body--swings twice with everything he has.
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`
Cladissa and Cole both are buffeted by the blast of negative energy. Dammit, I knew I should have brought up death ward, she thinks.
She shakes her head and then gapes as Sir Preston joins the fight. A sudden surge of happiness wars with an equally powerful surge of horror at the prospect of him witnessing her newest mutation. However, through that tumult of emotion presses the very urgent matter of the nightshade that threatened them all.
She turns to it, now that it had lowered itself to the ground, and levies her powerful hex upon it.
Then she cackles loudly to extend both the fell hex upon the undead and the beneficial hexes upon her allies.
Grommesson who is a beast finally reaches the terror, but cannot land a solid hit.
Grommesson winces in pain as the negative energy flows through him, and he uselessly flails at the terror.
Argor hovers in the air behind Gianluca and Sabrina, keeping an eye out for further threats, while Rutai heals the warrior once more with the rapidly depleting wand.
Gianluca steels his will to resist the wave of unlife, and is bolstered by his success. He steps forward and--despite his broken body--swings twice with everything he has.
Sabrina manages to land a devastating bite on the creature. Even though she takes the full blast of the negative energy, Blessing of the Snake allows Sabrina to fight through the worst of the pain. In retaliation, she continues to brutally tear into the Nightshade.
Cladissa and Cole both are buffeted by the blast of negative energy. Dammit, I knew I should have brought up death ward, she thinks. She shakes her head and then gapes as Sir Preston joins the fight. A sudden surge of happiness wars with an equally powerful surge of horror at the prospect of him witnessing her newest mutation. However, through that tumult of emotion presses the very urgent matter of the nightshade that threatened them all. She turns to it, now that it had lowered itself to the ground, and levies her powerful hex upon it.
Grommesson who is a beast finally reaches the terror, but cannot land a solid hit. Grommesson winces in pain as the negative energy flows through him, and he uselessly flails at the terror.
Argor hovers in the air behind Gianluca and Sabrina, keeping an eye out for further threats, while Rutai heals the warrior once more with the rapidly depleting wand.
Sir Preston charges the nightmare, who whirls to snap at him.
The paladin takes a devastating bite, his armor crunching and frost spreading across his armor. With a roar of pain he smites the nightmare, with his blazing longsword.
Preston's blade enters the shadowy body of the wounded undead, and Iomedae's power explodes from the blade, shattering the nightmare into motes of glittering dust.
Preston falls to his knees, clutching his bleeding chest. "WHAT IN THE HELLS IS GOING ON!?" he roars, since no one saw fit to answer him the first time.
As the Pathfinders look around, they see that combats are beginning to die down around the arena. There is blood and smoke everywhere, the screams of the dying and wounded continue to fill the air. The sky is clear enough, most of the remaining orbs of darkness are on the ground now.
"Given your means of arrival, I shall ignore your harsh tone, Sir Preston. But I would think it rather obvious, we are fighting for the lives of ourselves and the city against those who would see it undone. The Onyx Alliance. Perhaps you could inquire with your divine Mistress to let you join the campaign here, for isn't it said that 'How goes Absalom, so goes the world?'" Argor says as he again scans the periphery for signs of his wife. "Everyone, gather on me. I have magic to dispense upon you all. Cladissa, Osprey, if either of you have enchantments to weave to bolster ourselves, now would be the time."
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Rutai taps himself with the wand and then flutters forward, breathing hard from the excitement of the furious fight, and claps Preston on the back of his right shoulder plate. "Never thought you'd see an imp say they were happy to see ya, did ya?" he says with a toothy smile. "You able to heal yourself up? 'Cause it would seem I have to patch you mortals up some more."
__________
The Grommesson blinks hard and clears the beast from his eyes. Still an apprentice, he automatically obeys Argors suggestion/command.
Osprey casts a spell on himself, and his negative energy-burnt plumage is restored to its former glory. He looks to Argor and fluffs his ruff in an avian shrug.
Preston begins laying hands on himself, grunting in pain.
After three bursts of healing, he seems to be fine. "Apologies, Argor. I am worried for my men. We were in the middle of a battle in the Worldwound." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "It appears my Lady of Valor thought I would be of more use here." He scans the group again. "Where is Cladissa?"
Seeing that Gianluca is, as usual, nearly dead, Rutai focuses his wand usage on the swordsman. Once done, he says,
"We're gonna need another one of these soon. Someone keeps trying to die on us," the imp says sarcastically.
__________
Argor points Cladissa out to the paladin to allow them a moment to be reunited as he scans the arena for further threats...as well as his bride.
She had never seen Sir Preston Riverwyne in true battle, and it was amazing. He wielded the power of Iomedae in his blade and smote the foul creature that she had thought was going to be her end.
When he demanded to know what was going on, she hesitated. As much as she wanted to run into his arms, she held herself back. She had mutated again, and though her upper half was almost normal, her lower half was inhuman in a way that was somehow worse than what had gone before. He clearly did not recognize her, and she wondered if it would be for the best to remain incognito.
And then Argor called her by name and points her out.
Swallowing hard under Sir Preston's astonished gaze, she steps forward toward him and wills her illusion to drop. "Um, hi. I'm so glad you came! I prayed to Iomedae, and you appeared. We were in so much trouble."
She looks down at her lower half. "I, uh, this is..." She begins, flushing furiously. "I had another mutation. Right after you left."
She buries her face in her hands, unable to look at him. "Sorry."
Preston remains quiet for a moment, taking in the new Cladissa. "You needn't ever apologize for being yourself, Cladissa."
She dithers a bit, looking up at him again. "Yeah, but you know, I..." She stops herself from explaining the obvious and forces away the awkwardness as best she can. She takes him in, dressed in full battle regalia. She embraces him and yields to a lingering kiss.
She pulls away abruptly. "I thought you left by boat. How'd you get back to the Worldwound so fast?"
His hands seem unsure where to rest on her new body, but he kisses Cladissa nonetheless. "The church hired a mage to teleport me to Kenabres from Cassomir. They deemed having a paladin of my rank out of service for the time it would have taken to traverse the Sellen and Mendev unacceptable."
"Sir Preston and Osprey, it's a pleasure to fight at your side. Your timely arrival turned that tide! And Rutai, I appreciate you tending to my wounds.
"That said--"Gianluca glances at the sky and frowns"--I'm still a bit bloodied over here. If anyone else has healing or protective magics, don't be shy!" He manages a smile.
Preston beckons Gianluca over, not having the energy to go to the warrior himself. He lays hands on Gian's remaining wounds.
Moments later, the two orbs of darkness that disappeared into the dirt reappear out of the ground, flanking the group.
Two large shadow demons find themselves bathed in the unexpected light of Osprey's daylight spell, and are frozen helpless. They immediately flee back into the ground.
As the Pathfinders look around, they realize all the fighting has finally stopped across the Irorium. The bodies of dead black dragons and dark, masked warriors lay scattered along with many more bodies of the innocent festival attendees, and those brave enough to stand against the attack. Small numbers of Varlokkur squads begin teleporting in, others arriving on foot. The Foreign Quarter Guard, as well as the Guards of neighboring districts who were brought in as security for the event are dragging casualties towards clerics, who appear to be hastily assembling a triage at the other end of the arena floor.
Columns of smoke from the explosions when the huge dragon attacked drift over the city. The column of pale, silvery light continues to pulse up out of the grounds of the Grand Lodge into the night sky.
Osprey shifts back to his human form, his face pale and drawn. "They took Imrizade and Anya! Leave this s%~#e to the city, we have to get to the Lodge!"
"Then we go, immediately."
Cladissa breaks her embrace with Sir Preston when the shadows rise and are subsequently banished.
She looks at Argor, concerned for Imrizade's safety, and then makes sure that Grommesson is okay and not enraged. "We'll go immediately, at our best possible speed," she says. Looking expectantly at Sir Preston she asks, "Can you call upon Bellerophon, or do you feel called back to the Worldwound? I'd be happy to fight with you. I can't fly anymore, obviously, but I can move swiftly along the ground. I didn't prepare a teleport this morning, but I wouldn't have been able to transport everyone with one spell anyway."
With nothing better to do than use her increased landspeed, she begins hustling out of the arena at her best speed.
"I trust my Lady, if she feels that I am more needed here, then I will comply. Hopefully she is watching over my men. My horse is not here at the moment, I will run."