Children of the Void (Inactive)

Game Master therealthom

Kuva checks his sling-staff to make sure it's loaded and moves to where he can see what is going on, keeping his distance.

For the record, Lecian isn't going into the building yet.

Lecian turns and catches up with Mordecai. "What is it?"

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

"Zombies, I think." Mordecai clarifies, "But something worm-like lives within them..."

And me playing the only cleric of Urgathoa who can't command undead...

D'oh, no initiative roll from me... 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

"Surprise" round: just Mordecai and the Zombies go. One action. They get up. Set you get yours.

First Full Round. If your initiative is better than 13 post your actions.
On the road today. I'll try to post tonight.

Mordecai steps backwards a pace, and his morningstar flies through the air, striking at one of the zombies before returning to his hand.

Hand of the Acolyte-powered Morningstar attack 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
B/P damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

confirming crit, if possible 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
crit damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Lothan moves to see what Mordecai is speaking about. "What is...," He begins but then notices the zombie creature. His eyes going wide with surprise, Lothan fires off an arrow.

Not real sure the distance I was from Mordecai but the plan is to move his direction and fire at one of the zombies.

Mwk. Longbow, Comp (Str +1) w/DA: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Mordecai's Round:

The bodies stand and lurch toward Mordecai. Their copious wounds do not hinder them at all. It seems the stories of zombie's lethargy are exaggerated.

The closest goes down; its face stove in from the impact of Mordecai's mace. Split and oozing blood the tongue lashes back and forth and falls still.

First full round, Initiative:

Lothan, 15
Lecian, 15

Zombies, 13

Kuva, 11

Tyrrol, 7
Mordecai, 6

Lothan retraces his steps toward Mordecai. His shot flies wide.

Kuva frowns at the beasts. He fires a shot from his slingstaff, stepping away as he reloads.

Standard: Slingstaff attack 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Confirm: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Crit damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Move: Reload staff
5-ft. step away from the zombies.

Lecian channels energy through his weapon, firing magical darts at one of the zombies.

Magic Missile: 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (1, 4) + 2 = 7

Lothan's arrow flies wide.

Lecian pounds an incoming zombie with magic missiles but it continues to charge him. The zombie clubs at the magic user ...
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
and its tongue flicks out toward his face ...
1d20 - 3 ⇒ (19) - 3 = 16 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 1

Lecian :

Three zombies swarm the closest victim, Mordecai. They try to beat and lick the cleric.

Slam 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
and its tongue flicks out toward his face ...
1d20 - 3 ⇒ (18) - 3 = 15 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 3

Slam 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
and its tongue flicks out toward his face ...
1d20 - 3 ⇒ (3) - 3 = 0 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 4

Slam1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
and its tongue flicks out toward his face ...
1d20 - 3 ⇒ (20) - 3 = 17 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 3

Kuva's slingshot takes one of the zombies in the head. It staggers and looks at the halfling for a moment before continuing to swing unsteadily at Mordecai.

Tyrrol and Mordecai up.

Post in the OOC thread later tonight.

The flurry of blows and lashing worm-like tongues staggers Mordecai, who raises his shield high and steps back a pace, barely avoiding the third attacker's strikes.

His morningstar seems to only land in his hand for a bare moment before launching forward to strike at the creature that Kuva has already struck, soaring through the air as if carried by an invisible demon.

Five foot step back, another Hand of the Acolyte-powered Morningstar attack 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
B/P damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Wow, thank goodness for the AC 19, that was scary!

Wordlessly, Tyrrol charges the zombie harrying the mage, attempting to stave in its skull...

+1 Consecrated Ancestral Heavy Flail: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 9 + 2 = 26, for 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11 Magical Bludgeoning damage.

Just as well all those attacks missed Mordecai. There were only 2 zombies left to attack him; he'd already put one down. Of course that was an error on my part; the zombie really should have survived... so should have Kuva's. The crits were just too exciting ...

Mordecai retreats as his morningstar crunches into a zombie's shoulder. It knocks the zombie aside for a step, but doesn't have much effect. The undead horror continues to charge in.

Tyrrol dashes by Mordecai. His flail crashes into the zombie's head. With a crunch its head snaps back, then rights itself and the arms keep slashing at the mage.

Don't try to make sense of my OOC comments in the game thread. Pay no attention. You'll just come to grief.

Top of the order Round 2 Initiative:

Lothan, 15
Lecian, 15

Zombies, 13

Kuva, 11

Tyrrol, 7
Mordecai, 6

Noticing the zombie get clobbered by Tyrrol, "BOOM! Nice hit, ol' buddy! It's still standing though, so look out, it seems they are quite...affectionate, hey Mordecai?!" He says as he fires off another shot, coupled with a big smile.

Mwk. Longbow, Comp (Str +1) w/DA: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Burying the arrow deep in the creature, Yeahhhh! There's a little kiss for ya, zombie freaks!" He revels.

Round 2

Mordecai frowns at the seeming ineffectiveness of the morningstar, and allows it to fall to the ground, instead sending his dagger to slash at a zombie, with his next action. The dagger flashes in an arc of steel, and then swoops back to his hand.

Hand of the Acolyte-powered dagger attack 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
S damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

confirming crit 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
extra damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Foul creatures, to sully the holy state of undeath. he growls.

The tongue rasps like wet sandpaper on Lecian's face. Then it stops and adheres to his skin. It feels like a thousand needles are being injected into his cheek. After a second it falls away leaving a bright strawberry-red mark on his face. He feels suddenly weaker.

"Ugh..." Lecian staggers back in disgust and fatigue, touching his face "What in Desna's name is that?"

Lecian withdraws 40' away from the zombie, positioning himself so that one of his party members blocks a straight line path between himself and the zombie.

Lecian retreats in an arc around Tyrrol. The zombie gives chase for a step then turns its attention to the closer warrior.

Slam 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Tongue 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (7) - 3 = 4 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 3

It's blows rattle Tyrrol but do him no harm. The tongue slides on his helmet without effect.

Lothan's arrow pierces the zombie and it remains stuck in a bloodless wound without hindering the animated corpse.

The two zombies, one man, one dwarf continue to press their attack against Mordecai.

Slam 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Tongue 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (2) - 3 = -1 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 2

Slam 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 .. damage 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Tongue 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (9) - 3 = 6 .. damage 1d4 ⇒ 1

That's it. The next zombies are attacking at night. After they steal your armour.

Waiting on Kuva, Tyrrol before evaluating Mordecai's action.

Tyrrol shrugs in mild annoyance that the walking corpse does not stay down.

"Fi 'n sylweddol well ei dynnu allan i swper cyn y mochyn, diolch-i chi ..."

He then brings his flail around in a powerful blow, attempting to smash the creature's skull like a pinata!

+1 Consecrated Ancestral Heavy Flail: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20, for 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15 Magical Bludgeoning damage.

Gadib circles the battle, the sling whirling mightily in his small hands. He takes a look at his allies and enemies before he shakes his head. "They're too close for slings..." he mutters as he drops the staff. Drawing his falchion, he gives a yell as he charges one of the zombies surrounding Mordecai, his falchion slicing down the creature's back.

Charge v. a zombie surrounding Mordecai - whichever one I can flank if a flank is available, whichever is closer if I can't flank. 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17, for 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 magical slashing damage.

This time Tyrrol's flail smashes the zombie's face and snaps its head clear off its shoulders. It bounds along the ground and carooms off Lecian's knee before coming to rest beside the first building.

Kuva's falchion punches into the zombie and it topples in two pieces which twitch weakly then still.

Mordecai's dagger pins the tongue of the last zombie to its neck. The tongue winds around the blade and brushes his hand before going limp. The body slides to the ground and off the dagger leaving a viscous thread of blue-black fluid dangling from the point.

End combat.

Kuva pushes the zombie away from him, drawing his blade out of it's ribs. He looks to the tower again. "Perhaps we should move faster," he says simply.

Tyrrol shrugs.

"We should at least investigate the corpses, to see what information we can glean from them. We have not heard any shouts or screams coming from the tower, so I dare say if something has happened, there is nothing we can do about right now..."

He then moves to investigate the bodies...

Mordecai's dagger wrenches free and flies back to his hand, and he takes a moment to wipe it clean of gore, before sheathing it and pausing to retrieve his dropped morningstar.

Something lived within these corpses. Beware lurking surprises... he says, as he he moves to place his back to a wall, disliking the notion of being surrounded again.

3 uses of Hand of the Acolyte down, 2 remaining

"Sorry fellas but I'm with Kuva. The only information you're gonna get from those dead freak zombies, Tyrrol, is the fact that they're dead freak zombies. You fellas can investigate all you want....you'll know where I'll be." He tells the others and starts back toward the tower, bow in hand.

Tyrrol and other searchers of the twice dead:

Op for them to post before addressing the trip to the tower.

Tyrrol quirks an eyebrow as he investigates the bodies.

Fascinating. So these were not true 'zombies' after all; it looks like some sort of parasite burrowed into the brain, and then used the host body as a vehicle to move around. I wonder what else we will discover on this rather unusual island?

He then moves to hurry to catch-up with the others.

"I do not believe that those were standard zombies; there was some sort of parasite dwelling within their skulls - furthermore, those tongues were some sort of extension of the parasite, so if any of you were given a kiss, we (and by that, I mean Mordecai) should probably take a look at it... Unless you want to risk being infested too, of course..."

Where there any identifying documents / items on the bodies?

Lothan stops and listens and then raises an eyebrow when Tyrrol speaks of a "parasite". "Whoaaaa there, buddy! So what you're saying is, instead of just being a bunch of freakish zombies, these things are freakish zombies with tongues that like, lay eggs on your face or something?! That is just gross, man!" He cringes as he looks around at the others, "I wasn't hit by these disgusting things! Were any of you?" He asks anxiously.

Tyrrol shrugs.

"Well, I do not know for certain, but I imagine that those 'tongues' must serve some purpose; would it not make sense that they were involved in the parasite's reproductive cycle? I highly doubt that it was simply that they found us attractive..."

"Well now, I don't know about you, ol' buddy, but I am a pret-ty good lookin' fella if I do say so myself." He says with a wry grin, as he rubs his chin, forms a look of arrogance and then glances over at Tyrrol, waiting for a reaction.

Tyrrol regards Lothan carefully.

"I held my own at the Opera in Karcau, but I would prefer to think that I did not have the traits that 'zombie-parasites' found intoxicating; I dare say that their yard-stick for beauty is a little different to my own. Still, if you want some 'alone time' with the next bunch that we encounter, just say the word...

...I doubt, however, that it would be conducive to your long-term survival."

Lothan smiles real big and breaks out in laughter. "Man that was a good one, ol' buddy!" He slaps him on the back of his shoulder while he's still laughing. "I didn't realize you were such a comic, my friend!" He's manages as he's still laughing. "Alone time! That's a good one!" He finishes as he wipes the tears from his eyes from laughing so hard, just beginning to calm down. "Okay, okay. I'm good. I'm good." He says as he attempts to regain his composure. "I'm on to you, man!" He waves his finger at him. "You know, come to think of it, I think I now remember where I saw you before." He says as ideas quickly enter his head. "You did a stand up routine at the Gold Goblin, didn't you?! C'mon now, that was you, don't deny it!" He says with a big wry grin.

Glancing over his companions suspiciously for any sign that they may have been struck by the obscene questing tongues, Mordecai says crisply, "Fair maiden awaits, with heaving bosum, to reward you with soft kisses, Lothan. Stop flirting with the squirming alien worm things and save yourself for your sweetness."

Heal check to make sure everyone's unharmed 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

"And stop flirting with Tyrrol, also. It's putting me off my supper." he adds, with a small grin of his own.

He moves to the building at the base of the tower, where Kuva is likely already waiting with growing impatience, assuming he sees no signs of injury with his friggin' amazing Heal check.

Kuva stands at the foot of the tower, swinging his sword back and forth from one side of the door to the other, striking it with the flat of his blade. The scene is rather reminiscent of a child impatiently waiting for adults to finish their business, between his size and his pouting impatience.

Tyrrol : The dwarf is wearing blue-enameled bracers. The humans' garb is torn, but looks typical of men before the mast.

Lecian:

Witchlight (the clifftop lighthouse and surrounding area)

Walking to the tower . The second building on your left (B2) is little more than a collapsing ruin. This building’s rotting timbers still bear flecks of colorful paint, a sign that it must have once looked impressive.

There is no apparent entrance to the tower. You follow the overgrown path past another ruined house. (B1 on right of map) You go around the addition to the tower and walk the last few feet along the edge of a cliff. A cubit length of the tower's foundation hangs off the edge.

This fifty-foot-tall circular watchtower stands precariously on the edge of a steep slope overlooking the sea. The tower itself seems to be made of stone, yet no seams or individual blocks are apparent; it’s as if the entire tower were formed from one block of stone. An enclosed octagonal platform protrudes from the tower roof.

The outer door to the building (B4) was once solid oak, but it now hangs askew on its hinges; at Kuva's touch it collapses entirely. The rooms within are empty, but spattered with blood and signs of combat.

Tyrrol raises an eyebrow.

"I find that hard to believe; the first, and last, time I was in the Goblin was when Mordecai decided to cut his losses and abandon it, allowing us to raid the wine cellar; I do not recall a comedy night on that occasion..."

He then turns to Mordecai.

"Worry not; Lothan is not exactly my type."

Tyrrol retrieves the blue-enameled bracers from the Dwarf (casting Detect Magic, just in case), and then follows the others in the direction of the tower...

I said I would keep an eye-out for the other Dwarves, and I think the bracers will be sufficient proof of this one's demise.

Mordecai peers into the room, after the door collapses at Kuva's touch and says loudly into the doorway, "Hail the tower, anyone still alive here?"

"Alright, alright!" He says to Mordecai with a big grin. "That was a good one too, by the way." He tells him as he starts back toward the tower.

Seeing Kuva standing at the tower, Lothan notices he looks a bit irritated. "You haven't been waitin' long, have you Kuva buddy?" He asks with the same wry smile.

Noticing the inside of the tower, Lothan moves in quickly attempting to locate friend or foe.

Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (12) + 13 = 25

I should make clear the addition to the tower is conventionally constructed of mortared stone as opposed to the monolithic construction of the tower proper.

The two rooms of the addition end in a stout doorway to the castle interior. The door is closed and locked or barred from the inside.

A few seconds after Mordecai's hail a voice answers, "Hello?! Who's there?"

Is Lecian still with us?

"Living people, associated with no Riddleport boss, and not infected by whatever on this island is turning people into tentacle-tongued zombies. Is the fiery-haired cyphermage here?" Mordecai shouts to the barred door.

Glancing over his companions suspiciously for any sign that they may have been struck by the obscene questing tongues, Mordecai says crisply, "Fair maiden awaits, with heaving bosum, to reward you with soft kisses, Lothan. Stop flirting with the squirming alien worm things and save yourself for your sweetness."

Heal check to make sure everyone's unharmed 1d20+6

"Did you not see that thing try to suck my brain out?" Lecian points to his face, where he has a bright strawberry red mark on his face. "I don't know exactly how it did what it did, but I swear I feel like I've been sapped of my strength."

Mordecai says quietly back, "They might not let us into the tower if they think you infected. I'll look at it in a moment. Try not to turn into a wormtongue zombie immediately..."

Lothan cringes at the thought of Lecian turning into a wormtongue zombie. He speaks to him in a loud whisper, "Lecian, dude! You let that freak zombie kiss you?! Oh man, that's just gross! You know you might have zombie wormtongue eggs on your face?!" Lothan comtemplates on how to maybe help Lecian. "Ooh wait a minute, I think I've got an idea." He then turns to Mordecai, continuing with his loud whisper. "Hey Mordecai, I think I have a solution to help Lecian. You think we should burn his face? That should kill those eggs, right?" He asks as if that might actually help.

Tyrrol nods.

"I'll get a fire started," he says helpfully, before digging his flint and steel out of a belt-pouch, and looking for some kindling...

An eye appears at the small peep hole in the tower door. "All right. Let's see everyone one at a time. I want you to come up here by the door and say something."

Lothan turns and nods in agreement toward Tyrrol, then turns to Lecian, noticing his gone a bit pale. "Hey buddy, don't worry. This'll be better than having a twelve foot tongue busting from you face. Huh?" He says as a matter of fact, like that is suppose to make him feel better.

Mordecai stands before the door, "Mordecai, former co-owner of the Golden Goblin." He'll then step aside so that the next person who wants to announce themself to the person on the other side of the door can do so.

Distracted with Lecian's issue, Lothan quickly turns as he hears Mordecai respond to the guy behind the door and decides to go next. "Yeah, name's Lothan. Is Samaritha here? Is she okay? Are the other cyphermages here? If so, are any of you hurt? Who are you? Why won't you let us in? You do know we're here to help, right? Why are just standing behind the door looking at me? You know these are simple questions, so why won't you answer me? I don't understand why you won't answer?" Seeing the man just stare at him, as if he's studying him, "Whatever." He says in frustration, throwing his arms up and then turning and walking back to the others, mumbling. "For crying out loud, these are simple questions. Geez, I just don't get it." He huffs as he crosses his arms.

He then returns to what he was doing, "Hey Tyrrol, ol' buddy, how's that fire coming?" He asks to help take his mind off of his frustration.

"Give me a few more moments, and we should have a decent fire going...", Tyrrol says, as he coaxes some life into a small fire...

Once he has a sufficiently large fire to light a flaming brand, he quickly ignites one, and then moves over to the door.

"I am Tyrrol Radanavich", he says simply, before turning his attention to Lecian.

"This may hurt a little bit..."

"Alright Lecian, buddy, we're gonna need you to be real still...." He says with his arms extended, bent at the elbow and his palms facing outwards towards Lecian, attempting to keep him calm.