On their way out of the room, Syndlara makes a point to pick up her glowing rock.
The deeper into the caverns they go, the more the elf's nose crinkles in disgust. "Smells and sounds terrible," she complains quietly. Scimitar bared and holding her glowing pebble aloft like a torch, she follows into the larger chamber.
Slurp.
Turning toward the sound of the noise and spotting the undead, she tenses in anticipation of a fight and asks, "What do you want to bet that they're not interested in talking this out?"
Seeing the horrid creatures infesting the chamber, Garborn cannot keep back a shriek born both from fear and a primal loathing towards such perversions of nature.
Truk’s meaty hand quickly plunges in his pack and pulls a pair of those iron spikes. With a powerful gesture he hurls them at the closest monster and then motions for the girls to get behind him.
You hear the sound of iron against stone, then a sharp pained yelp as Truk'tosh hits with his second spike.
You return from the Red Oak to find Eve Aklume by herself at the lighthouse camp. She is clearly troubled. "Your friends gone, shaman. May be gone for good. If dey do come back... dey won't be same. The dead change you."
The tribesman enters the lighthouse and climbs to the girl's room. With the tip of his left hand fingers he caress the skull of the shredded man's skeleton on the table while using his outworldly sight to analise it.
Polyglot:
The evil ones will try. Its up to the living to not let them. What will my frinds find there? Did you send them to their deaths Eve?
"I know how to handle myself in a fight Truk.I won't charge mindlessy such a large group of undeads."
"Gorba, Fleek, guard!"
Garborn points at the large Half orc, giving instructions to help him in combat.
As such, the little lizard and the ape flanks Truk, ready to fight.
Garborn himself stays back for now.
Iolana for now places herself on the right-most edge of the row formed by Gorba,Fleek and Truk.
Str 12/Dex 13/Con 13/Int 17/Wis 12/Cha 14
HP 27/27
AC (lamellar armor) [Tot 16] [Touch 12] [FF 14] Dodge feat already included
CMB:+4 (+3BaB +1strength)
CMD:15 (+3BaB +1strength +1dexterity +10)
Fortitude save +5 (+4base +1con)
Reflex save +2 (+1base +1dex)
Will save +5 (+4base +1wis)
BaB+3
Initiative+1
Perception +7
Caster level check +11
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
(armor check pen. not included)
Climb +6 //Intimidate +7 //Knowledge Arcana +10 //Profession(Sailor) +5
Spellcraft +10 //Swim +7 //Sense Motive +4 //Survival +9
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Speed 30ft/9mtr
+1 Scimitar [att+5 dam1d6+2 18-20/x2 type S]
Shortbow [att+4 dam1d6 x3 60ft type P] 17 arrows
Prepared Spells :Level 0(cantrips):Daze(will DC13);Acid Splash(1d3 acid);Light;Detect Magic
Level 1:Shocking Grasp x2 (4d6 elect); Magic Missile (2 bolts 1d4+1 each); Shield (+4 AC)
Level 2:Web (reflex DC15); Bull's Strength (+4 str)
Arcane Pool(1/2 magus level+int mod)[5]
Carrying 40lbs/light emcumbrance/check penalty -1
used the pearl of power for the day
The large undead holding the leashes, lifts his polearm from the ground. As he does, torches all around him light with a whoosh, and a bronze door covered with reliefs of rising serpents slams shut; blocking the east tunnel.
You detect no aura from the remains. However when you touch the skull, you start to see images which cloud your vision. Images of a carves and painted wall.. several walls of writing and pictograms.
A voice rumbles in your head... speaking in Polyglot
"The torment springs from a source... " You see a woman in homespun clothing, and the look of an islander... she stands in front of a wall of etchings, as your view turns to face the wall, it is eclipsed by a dark form. The last thing you see is a clawed hand palming the head of the woman as she stares at the wall.
"My sister was made to remember the words of the curse, as others who turned against my tormentors..."
You then see another woman in front of another wall... you cannot hear her in this vision, but you see her lips move. Beetles (familiar to you) begin to crawl from her mouth, nostrils and tear ducts... they consume her completely but retain her form.
"End the power Inowi Jaha.... great suffering will come to those you call friends."
You know this difficult to translate old Mwangi term Inowi Jaha. It is one who can wield or calm a powerful "force" of nature.
The voice and the vision fade.
The towering master of the feral dead labors around his stone chair, and brings the iron ring of leashes in his left hand around in front of himself. He then adjusts his grip on the mancatcher polearm; ready to thrust... and speaks in a dark tongue. He waves it very slowly toward each of the intruders.
"Schass hauhk ng duln... draat huschk ngatha"
The tethered creatures snarl, and drool... in their gaze is the hunger to rend flesh.
"One to the pod... subdue what remains..."
Syndlara tenses, readying to explode into action when the battle is properly joined.
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Get outta our way,you abominations before all that is good and right! Enjoy some FIRE!!
Gatherine declared at the top of her lungs,snatching one of the smaller beads from the necklace at her throat and flicking it at the gangly one holding the leashes of the other ones---probably the biggest threat.
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A bead boinks the towering undead in the chest. There is a burst of flame and concussive force which fills the north half of the room.
When the flash of flame clears, the leashed creature previously struck by an iron spike, now lies lifeless on the ground. The others - including the master, all wear a bit of char on their grey flesh.
What the-”
Evading the blast of flames, Truk casts an angry glare at the dwarf, ”Watch it Poozer!”
Putting his massive fists up and falling into his aggressive brawler’s stance, the brawny orc steps forward and throws a pair of crushing blows.
Caught offguard by the blast, Syndlara is slightly too slow to react, and catches a face full of fire. Coughing and batting out small flames lingering on her clothes, she quickly incants a few arcane phrases. Passing a hand over the worst-burned spots, much of the charring fades. "Watch where you're aiming that thing, dwarf!"
As you regain your senses, Eve Aklume faces you "If not dead, then changed. Changed as the men were here or worse. But I did not send them. They asked to be led. Blame the ones who seek out evil, not Miss Eve Aklume." She looks at you curiously... glancing down at the remains she treasures.
Reflex
SORRY!!
Gatherine covered her face and shielded herself as best she could,grimacing at the sting of searing heat.
She felt like kicking herself for forgetting that she needed room to not get caught up in the blast.
Poliglot:
Yes, one should be mindful of what he wishes for.
Take the hood away girl, I want to see your eyes. Mugambi says while slowly removing his own mask. When I was a kid I wished to be able to help my people. There were... so many hurt at the wars. But then they did not want the help of the ones likes myself. He will wait for a couple of moments for the girl to do the same but even if she doesn't he will continue.
Tell me, you said you were born here. Who were your parents? And now that you are free of your dark mother what do you wish for yourself Miss Eve Aklume?
The little lizard is unable to react in time and takes the full brunt of the blast, screeching in pain.
"Fleek! Hold on, I'm coming!"
Gorba meanwhile, steps up next to Truk and swings his fists, trying to rake the undead threatening Truk.
Garborn himself begins to mutter a spell.
Hearing a close blast,Iolana instinctively jumps bakwards looking for its source, just to discover it was Gatherine.
The she dwarf released a charge too close to the party and hit herself and some of the others, togheter with a few enemies.
"Syndlara,Truk,Gath.....are you all right?"
Seeing Truk and Gorba beginning the assault on the undeads,Iolana enters the fray herself,not wanting to be left behind.
Str 12/Dex 13/Con 13/Int 17/Wis 12/Cha 14
HP 27/27
AC (lamellar armor) [Tot 16] [Touch 12] [FF 14] Dodge feat already included
CMB:+4 (+3BaB +1strength)
CMD:15 (+3BaB +1strength +1dexterity +10)
Fortitude save +5 (+4base +1con)
Reflex save +2 (+1base +1dex)
Will save +5 (+4base +1wis)
BaB+3
Initiative+1
Perception +7
Caster level check +11
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
(armor check pen. not included)
Climb +6 //Intimidate +7 //Knowledge Arcana +10 //Profession(Sailor) +5
Spellcraft +10 //Swim +7 //Sense Motive +4 //Survival +9
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Speed 30ft/9mtr
+1 Scimitar [att+5 dam1d6+2 18-20/x2 type S]
Shortbow [att+4 dam1d6 x3 60ft type P] 17 arrows
Prepared Spells :Level 0(cantrips):Daze(will DC13);Acid Splash(1d3 acid);Light;Detect Magic
Level 1:Shocking Grasp x2 (4d6 elect); Magic Missile (2 bolts 1d4+1 each); Shield (+4 AC)
Level 2:Web (reflex DC15); Bull's Strength (+4 str)
Arcane Pool(1/2 magus level+int mod)[5]
Carrying 40lbs/light emcumbrance/check penalty -1
used the pearl of power for the day
Eve reluctantly removes her hood. Her head is misshapen (particularly around her jaw), and scarred. She lowers her head at first, the looks up so you can see her eyes. She is obviously of mixed heritage... light brown skin, blue-green eyes, and a very cheliaxian nose with a slight upturned tip.
"My father was consumed. My real mother turned against the camp... She and I were taken to the caves... how I wish I could keep the memory away. The gifts of my father gave me what I needed to get away. Malikadna took me as her child after I escaped... she told all it was the will of the island... and the work of the Shredded Man."
She nods when you speak of the desire to help. "I know this feeling... They were pleased I had led them, and this felt... good. But as I ran back... I felt the stinging sick in my guts."
The feral zombie in front of Truk'tosh prepares to chomp, but is nearly flattened by Truk'tosh's first haymaker just above the creature's temple. Not experienced on how these things react to a heavy hit, Truk misses with the second swing of his combination. He feels a prickly heat from his fist which connected. The creature appears to be just barely clinging to life.
Gorba the ape steps up and swings high, then swipes downward.. catching a bit of his foe's flesh in his claws. Greenish sizzling goo drips from the wound.
Iolana cuts deep into the creature, and a squirting spray of viscous mostly green goo splashes onto her hand and weapon arm.
The towering zombie lifts his hand holding the leashes. The feral zombie behind the one felled by Iolana, dashes forward. It slashes Gorba with one claw, then claws and bites at Iolana. None of its wild attacks connect.
The feral zombie severely wounded by Truk'tosh, is less animated and merely bites at him. Its fangs sink into Truk'tosh's leg just above the knee, and it slurps at him as the warm prickly heat runs through Truk's leg. It seems to be partially rejuvenated, and the knuckle dents in its head begin to fade as it releases its bite, and wipes its mouth.
The towering Zombie then thrusts his polearm at Truk'tosh's waist, but Truk bats it away before it reaches him.
Attk
Dmg
Extra Grit dmg
Grit 3/4
RAWR!!
Gatherine let out what she hoped sounded like a battle cry and stepped up to point Twinbellows into the tall,gangly undead's hip and snapped off a thunderous shot that made Twinbellows buck and spit blue gunsmoke.
Gatherine's shot blows off dry sponge-like chunks of the undead's torso. It reels slightly from the impact.
Truk grunts in pain as the undead beast’s fangs dig into the meat of his thigh.
Seeing that the madman seemed to have good control over his pets, Truk steps to the left and gestures for the ape to follow his lead.
"Oh no, oh no, oh nonononono...infection...bite, infectionus bite...."
Garborn wrings his hands, trying to think of something to do.
Ah...that Truk'tosh used some magic oil to protect himself, but Gorba is unprotected.
Garborn mopves up behind Gorba and mutters a spell before touching him.
He then directs Gorba to follow Truk's idea and flank the undead monstrosity.
"Fleek, strike!
Fleek moves up to stand before Gatherine, before striking the undead there.
With the distraction from the ape, Truk puts his massive fists to work again, smashing into the offending undead with a roar.
Gorba senses desperation in his master's voice, and swings wildly. The wriggly feral undead - caught savoring the flavor, is boxed in. Fleek nips at it, and it falls broken under Truk's fist...
Syndlara launches into a sloppily-executed series of back handsprings to the towering creature's side. Slashing with her scimitar, she manages to cut deep into his side.
The creature waves his polearm around as if trying to find what he hears approaching.. He yanks on the slack leashes of the fallen feral dead and yells as Syndlara cuts into him.
"Slawdod vor oreni!"
"Open your eyes!"
just another one, then their boss....
Iolana shakes her sword arm and hands to wipe away the goo splashes,while trying to defend herself from the last udead thing.
Since she also have to be careful not to hit Gorba by accident she swings a bit too much to the right of the creature,widely missing it.
Str 12/Dex 13/Con 13/Int 17/Wis 12/Cha 14
HP 27/27
AC (lamellar armor) [Tot 16] [Touch 12] [FF 14] Dodge feat already included
CMB:+4 (+3BaB +1strength)
CMD:15 (+3BaB +1strength +1dexterity +10)
Fortitude save +5 (+4base +1con)
Reflex save +2 (+1base +1dex)
Will save +5 (+4base +1wis)
BaB+3
Initiative+1
Perception +7
Caster level check +11
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
(armor check pen. not included)
Climb +6 //Intimidate +7 //Knowledge Arcana +10 //Profession(Sailor) +5
Spellcraft +10 //Swim +7 //Sense Motive +4 //Survival +9
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Speed 30ft/9mtr
+1 Scimitar [att+5 dam1d6+2 18-20/x2 type S]
Shortbow [att+4 dam1d6 x3 60ft type P] 17 arrows
Prepared Spells :Level 0(cantrips):Daze(will DC13);Acid Splash(1d3 acid);Light;Detect Magic
Level 1:Shocking Grasp x2 (4d6 elect); Magic Missile (2 bolts 1d4+1 each); Shield (+4 AC)
Level 2:Web (reflex DC15); Bull's Strength (+4 str)
Arcane Pool(1/2 magus level+int mod)[5]
Carrying 40lbs/light emcumbrance/check penalty -1
used the pearl of power for the day
The Towering undead drops his weapon and swings his right arm in a devastating backhand into Syndlara.
The last leashed creature hops up and tears into Iolana. Its teeth sink into her inner thigh. It rocks while slurping before dropping back... drooling sizzling green goo. It then gets yanked by its master in melee to face his way.
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crit confirm
Gatherine let out an angry holler when she saw the gangly undead brutalize Iolana and Syndlara.
OI! Just who do you think you are?! I'll learn you to hurt my party,you piece of mummy jerky!
Gatherine surged up to the undead in indignant fury,and shoved Twinbellows into its chest and emptied the remaining shot into its ribcage. It bucked in her hand,hot sparks sizzling and gunsmoke roiling over her. She saw its body jerk violently,and chunks of gray flesh sprayed her.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Gatherine watched the undead fall over like a hewn tree,landing before her with a thump. She let out a resounding war cry,waving her smoldering pistol in triumph.
All fall before the might of the Deepheavy family!!
Moving quickly after the towering foe fell, Syndlara dashes toward the final zombie, slashing at its back with her blade.
Poliglot:
I am sorry for your loss.
After a moment.
It is... hard, to be the survivor. He says almost to himself before stopping again for a few seconds.
I need to go and help them.
How can one best the evilness? You have seen it and felt it. What lurks there in the darkness of that cave? How can I fight it? How did you?
"Gorba! Smash! Fleek! Heel!"
Str 12/Dex 13/Con 13/Int 17/Wis 12/Cha 14
HP 19/27
AC (lamellar armor) [Tot 16] [Touch 12] [FF 14] Dodge feat already included
CMB:+4 (+3BaB +1strength)
CMD:15 (+3BaB +1strength +1dexterity +10)
Fortitude save +5 (+4base +1con)
Reflex save +2 (+1base +1dex)
Will save +5 (+4base +1wis)
BaB+3
Initiative+1
Perception +7
Caster level check +11
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
(armor check pen. not included)
Climb +6 //Intimidate +7 //Knowledge Arcana +10 //Profession(Sailor) +5
Spellcraft +10 //Swim +7 //Sense Motive +4 //Survival +9
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Speed 30ft/9mtr
+1 Scimitar [att+5 dam1d6+2 18-20/x2 type S]
Shortbow [att+4 dam1d6 x3 60ft type P] 17 arrows
Prepared Spells :Level 0(cantrips):Daze(will DC13);Acid Splash(1d3 acid);Light;Detect Magic
Level 1:Shocking Grasp x2 (4d6 elect); Magic Missile (2 bolts 1d4+1 each); Shield (+4 AC)
Level 2:Web (reflex DC15); Bull's Strength (+4 str)
Arcane Pool(1/2 magus level+int mod)[5]
Carrying 40lbs/light emcumbrance/check penalty -1
used the pearl of power for the day
Enraged by the pain,Iolana thrusts a powerful blow with the sword pointed tip in the undead skull.
She shakes her head "I did not fight... I ran. I was restrained, and I cannot be restrained." She grasps the tight bone circlet around her neck, and moves it (quite impossibly) over her head. Her skull yields to the circlet through which it should not fit.
She unlatches the top of her leather armor, and reveals a short-hair brindle underarmor "second skin"... as if that should mean something to you. Perhaps it is the source of her ability. "You don' fight this evil, you run. But if it will help this stingin sick in my guts, I will help you get your friends."
The creature arches his back and screeches as Syndlara flays it across the spine. Gorba shreds its exposed sore-covered belly, and it reflexively contracts right into Iolana's sword point.
It drops lifeless as she draws back her scimitar.
Syndlara flicks the ichor off of her blade, then resheathes it. "...I get the feeling that this wasn't the mother," she says.
"Oh oh...infection...be careful..."
"Is...is everyone ok?"
"Everyone in one piece?" Truk grunts.
The elven bladedancer casts a baleful look at Gatherine. "A bit singed, and I'm sure I'll have another bruise later, but yes." She murmurs the words to another spell, and more of her injuries fade.
Not bothering to look over the mancatcher or any other items on the mouldering corpses, Syndlara glances at the door that shut when the undead attacked and then looks for a mechanism by which to open it.