The wight monk slides slightly to the left, dodging Caesare's spear easily.
The prof steps back and mutters some words before taking his glasses off to wash them on his dirty robe.
"Oh. You should watch your footing, filthy creature."
The wight suddenly loses her footing and falls!
Behind her the slowed wight finally stumbles in painfully slow motion to stand beside his mistress.
The wight on the ground seems unfazed by her fall and lashes out at Risbeth!
for damage!
for damage!
for damage!
Risbeth sighs as the grounded wight misses her completely. Who did you study under? A drunken monkey who's special technique was flinging poop at nerve damaged wildebeasts?"
Sonny steps up and attacks the wight with his scimitar.
Caesare stabs at the fallen wight.
Risbeth smashes into the monk-wight, who stops moving. The other wight is dispatched through Sonny and Caesare's attacks and the square goes quiet....
Risbeth cracks her neck, and then her knuckles, and then checks the bodies. "What a pathetic undead. My mother was right, there's almost nothing on this continent that understands honor, and even less that's competent."
You hear a sudden cackling from the ruined tower nearby. It sounds maniacal and possibly insane!
Overlooking the town square stand the battered remnants of what must have once been an impressive tower. Now only the tower’s ground floor and half of its second floor still stand, and catapult balls lie scattered about the piles of broken stone and masonry at the tower’s base. Of the top of the tower, only a jagged crest of stone remains; the tower’s roof has been ripped off, and much of the rear portion lies buried in rubble.
Remarkably, a pair of massive stone doors still hangs within the entrance of the tower’s battered facade.
Taking an extract of alchemical allocation combined with a potion of heroism Caesare prepares for the next minutes!
Risbeth listens to the cackles. "Hmm, you're a bit flat. Can you try it again in a C sharp?" She calls out loudly to the tower. Turning to the others, she jerks her head at the tower. "You know, I could just punch it down, let whatever is inside deal with the collapsing stones..."
"We should probably go have a look and see exactly what is going on in there. If it's more of the Whispering Way finding out what they are up to would be good."
The prof nods, and takes a little time to focus on his pearls before moving forward. He then casts a spell and hand a torch to an invisible being.
The massive stone doors appear to be barred from inside and do not move at your push.
Risbeth sighs, and then begins to study the doors. "You might want to stand back, in case they are booby trapped." She studies the hinges, and begins to punch the hinges.
+
The doors explode under the relentless fists of Risbeth!
Inside: In relatively good shape, the walls of the entrance hallway display several stone sundials. A doorway to the southwest opens to a small, rubble-strewn antechamber, while a makeshift curtain of woolen blankets blocks another doorway to the northeast.
Sonny looks at the two exits and shrugs and then nods to the curtain, "Why don't we try that way since it's close and we can't see beyond it. We'll have some warning if anything comes the other way. Everyone knows we're here after Risbeth's knock." He then chuckles and smiles at Risbeth.
Risbeth grins. "A guest always knocks politely..."
The curtain is thrown aside, revealing a small room curving around the inside of the tower's walls.
This long chamber runs from the foyer to the rear of the tower, ending in a mountain of collapsed rubble. At the far end of the room stands a large pavilion. Standing in this room are two nearly pony sized disembodied hands and a single necromancer. He looks nearly lich-like, his face sunken and skin waxy. He cradles a staff made from black wood and topped with a skull. His left hand holds the staff, while his right glows with black energy.
"Greetings, mortals. What brings you to my fair town?" he croaks.
"Mostly we were passing through, and then some idiot left a bunch of skeletons sitting around with two moronic acolytes who decided to use them to attack people. Honestly. It gives undead a bad name. Then there was an dead monk who gave both martial artists and undead a bad name. You really need to work on your acolytes and followers if you want to be respected. And explain to them that they shouldn't leave things lying around like that. Not everyone who comes along is interested in killing undead for no reason." She shrugs. "Now, attacking me is a good reason, and not conducive to long unlife..."
The half-undead man laughs with a rough bark. "You speak bluntly, half-blood. It is the providence of the young to believe everything is black or white, good or bad, true or false. We who are older see greys everywhere. I am Auren Vrood, servant of the Whispering Way. You seem to have cost me some soldiers. It is unfortunate. I will not have enough to offer as tribute to my Master. It shall delay my mission."
"Oh, I'm about as grey as you can get. As I said, I don't have a problem with undead in general. Which as I've said before, is very good, considering my mother would take offense if I did." She smiles. "On the other hand, I think my world view is not what the locals is. It's not good or evil I'm all that concerned with. I simply despise chaos. I like the world to work, and for people to do what is needed to keep things ticking along. Destruction for personal gain is messy. Sowing chaos is never a good option. If you have failed your Master, it is through your own lack of properly controlling and training your soldiers. A commander can be judged by the judgement of his soldiers. Your Master should punish you for delaying your mission through lack of control of those under you."
Vrood smiles. "Perhaps he will, when he rises. But I assume that's why you came? Your comrade's holy symbol," he nods at Sonny, "would probably indicate a certain opposition to the return of Tar-Baphon."
In 3203 AR, he was somehow able to use the power of the Whispering Way to return as a lich. An ancient tome, the Whispers of the Immortal, purportedly written by a disciple of Tar-Baphon, documents his transition into undeath. However, there are significant doubts about its authenticity.
He sought to attract the attention of Aroden, and to gain his revenge, but Aroden did not take up his challenge. Styling himself the Whispering Tyrant, Tar-Baphon united the orcs of Belkzen under his rule and conquered Ustalav.
Centuries later, in 3754 AR, Taldor sought to oust the Whispering Tyrant, giving rise to the drawn out conflict that became known as the Shining Crusade. The forces of Taldor were aided by the dwarven kingdom of Kraggodan (in modern day Nirmathas), and the Knights of Ozem.
In 3801 AR, the crusaders finally established a beachhead in the (then) Ustalavic town of Vellumis, and began the slow and brutal process of advancing to the Tyrant’s capital of Gallowspire.
In 3818 AR the Knights of Ozem summoned Arazni, the Herald of Aroden, to aid them in the war. However, in 3823 AR the Tyrant killed Arazni.
At last, in 3827 AR, the crusaders reached Gallowspire. The Taldan general, Arnisant, fought the Tyrant and using the artifact known as the Shield of Aroden was able to withstand the lich’s magic. When the shield eventually shattered, it burned the lich with holy fire, weakening the Tyrant enough that the crusaders were able to imprison him beneath Gallowspire. The province of Lastwall (now an independent country of the same name) was established to watch over the Tyrant’s prison.
Sonny looks at the man and the hands, trying to determine if they are actually undead.
At the mention of the name Tar-Baphon, Sonny frowns.
"I was going to accuse you of killing our friend Professor Lorrimor, but with the mention of that, your crimes are much, much greater. Trying to bring back the Whispering Tyrant is very evil and the chaos created would be immense." He looks at Risbeth after saying that. "The Whispering Tyrant is well guarded. How do you propose to get past all of those protecting his resting place?"
Risbeth shrugs. "I got nothing against gods coming or going, they really don't ask my permission one way or the other. Unleashing chaos on the world however, would be against my mother's wishes. While I'm not opposed to thwarting my mother's wishes on occasion to prevent her from being overcome by ego, to the detriment of our family honor, I'm not really stupid enough to want to thwart her desires for maintaining the status quo enough to disrupt the world." She grins at the others. "So... I guess we've agreed again?"
"Yes, we are agreed again.", Sonny says as he reaches for his holy symbol.
"Aye!"
"What? Chaos upon the world? Unacceptable! There will be destructions... and libraries and academiae will not be an exception, I presume. You shall not succeed!" says the prof, almost losing his glasses at the thought of burning libraries.
The necromancer sighs deeply. "So be it. Kill them."
Round 1:
Risbeth and Professor
Foes and Caesare
Sonny
The prof begins to mumble some words and you are all covered in void energy. Re-adjusting his glasses, the prof states on his usual professoral tone.
"My latest studies revealed that the void element is not only useful to hinder people, it can also enhance some capacities to light. You
see, it was the simple fact that..." and goes on and on about his discovery.
Taking advantage of her reflexes, Risbeth charges past the hands before they can react! "You guys deal with the hands, I'll deal with the moron."
Risbeth smashes into the necromancer, who grunts as the blows strike him. But he does not fall.
The giant claws spring at Risbeth!
for damage!
for damage!
The necromancer steps back five feet and snarls a word of magic while flinging pearl dust into the air!
Grunting Caesare accepts the magic but his strong body deflects the worst.
Watching the necromancer for a moment he then moves forward and thrusts his spear into his enemy.
3 squares.
A wave of black necromantic energy explodes from Vrood's hand and Risbeth and the Professor drop dead! Caesare's spear lashes out, but the necromancer dodges its deadly attack!
Sonny gasps as his friends drop to the ground and wonders what spell was cast.
He then casts his on spell, and a ghostly force appears behind the necromancer. "Great Dawnflower, lend me your aid and rid this world of one who cause death and undeath!"
The scimitar appears and slashes twice at the necromancer, who dodges nimbly.
ROUND 2:
The necromancer steps back diagonally, cackling as the bodies fall. He murmurs a spell and a spectral hand appears next to him, floating in air. The claws leap at Caesare!
for damage!
for damage!
As the necromancer begins to cast Sonny's Spiritual ally attacks as he leaves himself open.
The ally then attacks the necromancer again.
Sonny then calls upon his goddess again. "Sarenrae, bring down your holy wrath on these evil creatures!" as a pillar of holy light comes down upon the room.
The necromancer survives the ally's attack of opportunity and dodges its other strikes, but the holy smite seems too much and he falls. As he does his jaw begins to melt away, destroying any chance to ask his spirit any questions following death! The claws weather the holy smite and seem unaffected by the blinding effect!
Caesare is grappled. [ooc]How to escape. Can one attack the hand?"[/B]