Gil will cast Invisibility and
Wheezing and clanking, his plating severely dented and rent, Lightbringer shifts around the warforged that faces him.
“You are surrounded and out-classed,” Lightbringer grates, levelling his sword at the enemy. “Throw down your weapon and surrender. If you do not, you will be destroyed.”
Ezreal pulls the last of the arrows from his abdomen with a hiss when Father Xativa heals him again and applies pressure with one hand until the pain passes enough to move again. In control again he stalks through the barn doors on the other side banishing the writhing field of tentacles with a swipe of one hand.
"You are a traitor to your kind," replies the warforged fighter, "The Lord of Blades will destroy you." It makes to swing again but Lightbringer takes it down with a single blow from his greatsword.
Kadesh looks up. "Can't see it, boss," he squawks.
Lightbringer cuts the warforged down. “Your faith in your lord of blades is misguided,” he says sadly. He then turns to Runzyl, kneels (with difficulty) and lays hands on the elf, causing some of his wounds to close.
The elf is roused by the warforged's healing touch, but immediately lashes out with a furious boot to the paladin's chestplate.
"If the Lord of Blades is coming, I'd rather it be without these two." Ezreal extends the fingers of one hand and four skeletal digits blur across the field to blast one of the fleeing archers.
The missiles hit but don't stop the fleeing warforged.
The mage flows from one casting straight into another.
** spoiler omitted **
The elf is roused by the warforged's healing touch, but immediately lashes out with a furious boot to the paladin's chestplate.
“Runzyl, it is I, Lightbringer,” Lightbringer grates, stepping back.
The mage flows from one casting straight into another.
One of the fleeing warforged is caught up in the blast of Ezreal's spell. It still manages to stagger on, its plating showing scorch marks.
Ezreal decides to conserve his spells and the warforged flee across the fields to the west.
After a few minutes one of the group notices Gil is not amongst them.
At the front of the building is a small camp, with tents and lean-tos. Seemingly keeping guard are a small contingent of warforged. The escapees from the village run straight up and report to the one in charge, a lightly-armoured warforged with a large crossbow slung over its back. After a brief conference, the warforged all simply abandon their position, heading north-east at a jog.
Perception
Truestrike: Report.
Nightsight: The village is taken. It is the ones the hobgobin said. We are the only survivors. Anvil and Wand are both non-functional, and Anvil is definitely destroyed. When it became obvious that we could no longer secure the village we retreated and came here. Requesting orders.
Truestrike: Were you followed?
Nightsight: I do not believe so. Quarrel suffered heavy damage during our retreat but they did not pursue.
Truestrike: Do you consider that we can stop them here?
Nightsight: No, they are too strong. The traitor Basher, the minotaur and the elf were rendered non-functional, but may be repairable. They still have two wizards, a priest, an archer, and two warriors, including the traitor Lightbringer. Combined, they managed to destroy vrtually our entire unit.
Truestrike: Those that fell will be avenged by the Lord of Blades. (Pauses.) There is little point remaining here if we will simply be overwhelemed. Our force is much smaller than yours, the terrain is less favourable, and we have no magical support. We will retreat and inform Darkheart.
Nightsight: I believe that Wand's final messenger escaped.
Trusight: Good. Then the Lord of Blades will be informed of what has happened here. (Turns to the rest of the unit.) We are leaving! Form up!
Nightsight: What about the prisoner? And those inside the complex?
Truestrike: We will leave him. He is effectively non-functional and will likely be destroyed by the plague soon. And I expect the Caretaker has killed the hobgoblin and his minions, and will doubtless do the same to the ones in the village. They will be here soon. Come.
(The warforged march away.)
Remembering the trick the party employed with Lightbringer posing as 'dead', Janosz wanders between the fallen warforged and makes sure they are properly dead, smashing their chests and ripping their heads off. "You just can't tell with these guys; might as well be certain that they aren't spying on us or are trying to pull a fast one."
After several more seconds of violent befuddlement, the Valenar gains control his senses once more and hangs his head.
"I... I am sorry, Lightbringer. The wizard's spell played tricks with my mind. I was not myself then..."
He casts his glance to Falla Caesenri, which lies on the ground not far from him.
"I would have one of you scrutinize me with your magics to be certain the affliction is passed before I take up Falla Caesenri again. Should I be manipulated in a such a manner while armed and in good health... I may be as great a danger to you all as any foe we face out here."
The elf looks to Lightbringer, Rodergo, and finally Ezreal with a forlorn expression on his face. His wounds are quite evident as well, and he stands favoring his left leg.
"Anyone up for tracking those last two bastards down and murdering them in their sleep? I don't want them to be able to report to their superiors."
Once she's fairly sure there's no trickery going on, she will try to determine where the abandoned prisoner is located. Specifically, is he flesh-and-blood or 'forged?
Perception
She'll check the tents first - looking for discarded gear that might belong to the prisoner while she's at it - and then the low building.
Channeling rolls;
anybody need more?....
Channeling rolls;
4d6
4d6
anybody need more?....
right on...
After several more seconds of violent befuddlement, the Valenar gains control his senses once more and hangs his head.
"I... I am sorry, Lightbringer. The wizard's spell played tricks with my mind. I was not myself then..."
He casts his glance to Falla Caesenri, which lies on the ground not far from him.
"I would have one of you scrutinize me with your magics to be certain the affliction is passed before I take up Falla Caesenri again. Should I be manipulated in a such a manner while armed and in good health... I may be as great a danger to you all as any foe we face out here."
The elf looks to Lightbringer, Rodergo, and finally Ezreal with a forlorn expression on his face. His wounds are quite evident as well, and he stands favoring his left leg.
“It is of no consequence; no permanent damage was inflicted.” Lightbringer studies Runzyl for a moment, his eyes flashing silver. “I detect no evil in you, nor any evil influence over you.”
"Anyone up for tracking those last two bastards down and murdering them in their sleep? I don't want them to be able to report to their superiors."
“Let them go,” Lightbringer suggests. “Warforged do not sleep. Additionally, when I permenantly decommissioned their spellcaster, it released a messenger component. If the allies of these ones do not already know what transpired here, they soon will. We should repair ourselves with haste and get moving, or else find a fortified position. Where is Matilda? I would thank her for saving me from destruction.”
Channeling rolls;
4d6
4d6
anybody need more?....
I think so; I don't know.
After having a quick look about for Gil and scouring the fallen for loot , Lightbringer suggests that the group make their way to the top of the tower, then set up the tent. The fleshy ones can heal up inside, Janosz (I don’t think he was badly wounded) and the two forged can keep watch – we should get good line of sight from the tower. Once Ez is healed up he can come out and help repair the warforged.
"Let's do that," Janosz nods to Lightbringer. He then turns to Runzyl. "Don't pull another dumb-ass stunt like that again. Basher's down, Bor's down and it's all because we had to follow your harebrained dash into the middle of the 'forged. Do it again, and not only will I leave you to bleed out, but I'll take your precious sword and give it to skanky goblin whores and then tell anyone who wants to listen that you died from some kinda gobbo syphilis. That'll do wonders for your reputation, I wager." He then walks off to search for valuables.
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Lightbringer stares wordlessly between Janosz and Runzyl. “I would not let Jansoz gift your sword to goblin whores,” he tells the elf solemnly. “That could prove dangerous. Nor would I allow untrue stories of an ignoble death to circulate. But Janosz is right on one account; your reckless charge was a tactically unwise move and it left the rest of us vulnerable in coming to your assistance. It was as much through the will of the Flame and the gods as our own skill that we survived that battle. I know that you have no fear of death, and a desire to see battle joined quickly and close. We are your friends though, and would not see you die needlessly. From a less emotional point of view, we need you alive to help us complete this quest.”
Rodergo's healing energies alleviate the worst of the Valenar's injuries but he is far from healed. He nods his thanks to the priest and listens closely to the council of Lightbringer and Janosz.
"I... did not expect the others lying in ambush. I knew only of the archers, and thought to negate their advantage of range as quickly as possible. It was a trap, and I am sorry if you feel that I endangered you. It is my understanding that a bow is hard to fire with a blade sweeping across your brow," the elf smirks at Janosz.
"I know you well enough, Shadow Marcher, to know you would not do such a thing. My death will come when it comes, whether that be tomorrow or a score of decades from now. I have learned much of your kind... humans, that is to say, and if it is fate's will that I survive these trials, then I shall look forward to watching over your children, your children's children, and the generation thereafter and tell them tales of your deeds. I should only hope that, regardless of the nature of my demise, you would honor me the same in what lifespan you have."
You guys want to set up the tent then?.....
also, maybe Ez could fix up LB a little better.
LB 39 of 109;
Janosz 59 of 79;
Runzyl 65 of 110;
You guys want to set up the tent then?.....
also, maybe Ez could fix up LB a little better.
LB 39 of 109;
Janosz 59 of 79;
Runzyl 65 of 110;
Bor and Basher stagger to their feet as Rodergo's healing waves wash over them.
Ezreal set to repairing the massive damage inflicted on the constructs.
Rolund makes sure to remain out of the range of the purified’s channeling. He remains silent between the exchanges of his companions except towards the end.
“Where is the changeling?”
Ezreal set to repairing the massive damage inflicted on the constructs.
As the warforged head away, Gil cautiously lands and begins to explore the camp. Judging the bedrolls, this is not the warforgeds' camp since they do not sleep. From inside a tent comes a low moan of pain.
Peering in, but still invisible, Gil can see what appears to be a human man. He is dressed in leather armour, and lying on the floor. He is drenched in sweat and appears to be injured, his breath rattling from his lungs. But particularly hideous is a strange sort of growth, branched and spiny and with coarse hairs at the end, emerging from the blood- and pus-soaked bandages over his stomach. It initially looks organic, but in the dull light Gil can see it glints like metal.
Rolund makes sure to remain out of the range of the purified’s channeling. He remains silent between the exchanges of his companions except towards the end.
“Where is the changeling?”
A few minutes after Rolund's comment, Gil reappears unharmed amidst the party.
** spoiler omitted **
A few minutes after Rolund's comment, Gil reappears unharmed amidst the party.
Gil reappears, relief obvious on her face at seeing the fallen members of the party back on their feet. "I followed the escaping crossbowmen," looking at Ezreal with a wink, "fortunately, not very closely."
She continues, "They reported to a small force of other warforged located outside the village that way. They did not attempt to cover their tracks and there is a visible trail in the soil. The gist of their conversation was that we defeated the larger force, so this smaller group retreated to report to Darkheart. They went northeast from the building where they'd been camped.
"The escaping 'forged told the commander that we were the ones the hobgoblin told them about. I looked around their camp for a bit because they referred to a prisoner that they were going to leave behind because he was nonfunctional and the plague would soon destroy him. I didn't get too close, but I found a man, barely alive, in one of the tents. He appears to have some spiny metallic growth protruding from his stomach." She shudders, "I have no idea what it might be, but if we hope to get any information from him, we'd probably better hurry - I don't think he has much more time."
"I think the hobgoblin and his group might be ahead of us yet at the facility we seek, but the warforged were not concerned. Something called 'the Caretaker' was expected to take care of them. I don't think the camp that the warforged were in was originally theirs -- they would not need bedrolls, and there were several."
"They seem pretty sure that 'the Caretaker' will defeat us, as well. They didn't give any indication of what this Caretaker was, of course."
Looking over the carnage of 'forged on the battlefield, Gil looks at Lightbringer. "I know this would feel very callous if someone asked it of me regarding flesh-and-blood creatures, but I have to -- will the Lord of Blades and his minions have any value in their fallen brethren? Can they use the bodies for spare parts or anything like that? The last thing we need is to have to fight all of these warforged again."
"Let's check out the camp; it'll contain some clues as to who and how many the other guys are. And if we can squeeze some info outta the patient there, that'll be a big bonus."
Knowledge Arcana