Semenya's magic missiles both fizzle out with no effect when they strike the devil. The suddenly much larger Maddok struggles somewhat with maintaining his grip on the devil, but still ends up pinning its arms to its sides.
Tybain hoots with surprise at both Drovalid's size and skill.
"Aroden is with us!"
Tybain will dance to L3 and make another attack on the demon.
to hit; (bless, smite)
damage. (damage bypasses DR via smite)
Swift action: lay on hands healing
HP = 16/20 (usually 23/23, -2 con)
AC = 23 vs. Ogres, 25 vs. devil (smite)
Status = Scared and on stage
Effects = Smite vs. Devil
Smitten? = Yes
Lay on Hands = 2 of 3 used
EDIT: I suck at this game...so being pinned allows me to sneak attack. Another +2 to hit and damage. Sorry. :(
After another fine strike from Appario, the struggling devil now looks about halfway dead.
"Death by a thousand paper cuts? Not so much. Horrible decapitation by razor-sharp sword? I'll give it three to one odds."
Although not overly thrilled about getting her hands dirty, Isandra drifts over to K2, where she starts prodding the barbazu with her staff. To it she calls out "Kurotemash-ka asmodekomiske, vuorum!"
The devil once again attempts to escape its predicament, and is once again unsuccessful.
It calls out in response to Yahirma as it remains slumped in Maddok's vice-grip: "Vish'ke muorte! Vah'ntar Cor!"
"Filthy mortals! I will have revenge!"
Derek moves over stab the bearded fiend as well, after all, why not?
"Here comes the barber, time for your trim, or do you want a clean shave? We might need tweezers for that."
Giant-Drovalid maintains his hold, applying pressure with his powerful arms and chest, crushing his opponent in a bear hug.
Derek's rapier slides into the devil's flesh, and Maddok can hear bones crack as he applies tremendous pressure to its chest.
Still awed by the power of the Drovalid, Tybain will take another opportunity to strike at the pinned devil, aiming for an exposed weak point.
"I judge thee for Aroden!"
to hit; (smite, flank, bard)
damage. (sneak, smite, bard)
HP = 16/20 (usually 23/23, -2 con)
AC = 23 vs. Ogres, 25 vs. devil (smite)
Status = Scared and on stage
Effects = Smite vs. Devil
Smitten? = Yes
Lay on Hands = 2 of 3 used
Appario eyes the skeleton ready to come alive.
"My morningstar lies there." Appario nods to the ground a pace away where the magical, blunting weapon lies.
Appario's final strike hits something vital, and the devil slumps, lifeless, in Maddok's arms. Shortly after, it winks out of existence.
Spitting at the sizzling puff of residual brimstone Isandra saunters over to O-1 and prepares a non-committal strike in case the skeleton does not choose to strike at her (how would she put it?) luscious, mortal champions.
No longer haunted by the memories of its death, the Ogre Skeleton begins moving again and continues its task. Both of its claws ineffectually attempt to gouge into Derek's flesh, while Semenya's fiery hands lap up against its bones. Yahirma's staff strikes the floor several feet from the skeleton.
Going after me? Not great tacticians are the dead... guess that can be an occupational hazard when your brain rots away? Unless the play calls for them to go after the protagonist? Let's see if we can lure it out a bit...
Derek withdraws, seeking to tempt the skeleton to follow him and let his friends crush it as it goes.
Unceremonially, Drovalid drops his limp opponent only a second before it vanishes.
Lifting his fallen hammer/whip and knowing he's at the limits of his strength the torturer roars as he lashes out one last time in fury at the remaining skeleton.
Why do I suddenly have the urge to say "The first three rows MAY get...covered in bone dust"?
The Ogre Skeleton lashes out at Maddok as he leaves himself open for a second, but it seems preoccupied with Larazod and misses the large Shoanti. Maddok's hammer crashes into the large skeleton, grinding several bones to dust as the Ogre is finally laid to rest.
As all of the companions emerge virtually unscathed from this final battle, the roar of the audience reaches cacophonic proportions, and thunderous applause follows the actors as the curtain is drawn for the next-to-last Act.
Yahirma produces a break-out performance as Ilsandra, blowing everyone away with her acting during the act.
In the backstage area before the final Act, Thesing looks as if he can't believe what just happened, and spends most of his time muttering under his breath and pushing stagehands around.
Not only is everyone else still alive, depriving him of his rightful moment as the single shining star of the play, but these upstarts even have the gall to outperform his acting!
Thesing attempts to compose himself before the final Act, but his seething anger shines through his performance as Asmodeus himself (played by director Nonon in a shockingly realistic costume) enters in a burst of crimson flame surrounded by imps and takes Haanderthan with him to Hell.
As the final curtain call is made and the actors come out to bow, the crowd goes wild and the applause is explosive. Several valuable objects (brooches, gems, and the like) are hurled onto the stage in appreciation of the production, and there is seemingly no end to the audience's cheers. Director Nonon and the rest of the cast also come out to partake in the adulation, and Nonon enlists several stagehands to aid him in lifting the actors up on their shoulders.
Throughout the celebrations, Thesing stays in the background, still seething, and he storms away immediately once the actors return to backstage.
Awesome stuff.
Tybain, now back to being Appario, is overjoyed at being alive.
It's *SO* much better than being dead! Praise Abadar!
He will bow and smile and bow again and thank the audience.
On the side, he will begin to appraise the tossed-up jewelry, brooches, and assorted (surely) silken ladies undergarments.
Amaya spends most of the time during the applause with her arms wrapped around Derek's chest and neck, whispering in his ear. "I was so worried about you! What if you had died?"
Backstage, director Robahl Nonon shakes each of the PCs hands, thanking them for their hard work and congratulating them on a wonderful performance. "This was such a magnificent performance that I don't think I'll ever be able to outdo myself!"
Tallying up all of the take from the front-of-house coffers, the director splits the take among the cast and crew according to the appropriate percentages, and he also gives the PCs equal parts of the jewelry that was thrown onto the stage at the end of the show.
As the waves of applauds and adoration washes over him, Derek raises his arms over his head and closes his eyes, basking in the feeling for a moment.
It will be...hard to top this.
However, as he opens his eyes, there is only one persons applauds he cares about. His eyes straining, he seeks his grandfather in the audience.
Grandfather...are you proud of me? Have I washed away the shame of my father now?
"Have a little faith Amaya, I'm harder to kill than you think, I'm an expert bard after all, and soon you will be as well."
Noticing that Thesing is gone, Derek smiles.
Ah Thesing, your anger is like the juiciest cherry possible on top of a cake smothered in whipped cream. If this taught you anything then maybe you will become a "decent" actor one day...but I doubt it.
As Nonon shakes his hand he smiles.
"I told you my friends had talent, but it took your leadership to bring it out. I fear most of them will never give another performance, but if you ever produce another play I shall be honoured to work with you again master Nonon...but mayhap a less violent play next time?"
Derek makes a show of looking around with something akin to surprise on his face.
"Where is Thesing? Does he not want his share of the applauds and reward?"
If he says even ONE bad word about him, my night will be complete. Anyone who produced this play badmouthing Thesing will ruin his reputation for a long time, and Nonon is not exactly known for being subtle or private with his scorn.
The majority of his strength spent Maddok is too exhausted to notice Thesing's fuming.
The big Shoanti considers making good on the promise he made to himself to beat Nonon once this was all done, but can't bring himself to ruin the director's high spirits. Instead, he does his best to play his part as the actor, bowing and smiling (or not smiling in his case) for the cheering crowd.
Over the the course of the rest of the night Maddok makes his rounds sharing some words with each of his allies.
Derek's eyes find his grandfather in the midst of the cheering crowd, tears in his eyes as he looks upon his grandson with pride.
Director Nonon is all smiles during his conversation with Derek. "It would be a shame if they didn't grace the stage with their presence again, especially your exotic friend Yahirma. Should you decide to work with me again, the honor would be all mine, young Keegan. You certainly lived up to the standards set by your grandfather."
Director Nonon's face darkens as Derek mentions Thesing. "Thesing? Can you believe what that insufferable man did?! While I was pulling him off the stage in my Asmodeus costume, he berated me! He called this production a farce and said he wanted nothing to do with it, and he wouldn't take my money if I threw it at him. Good riddance to the pompous bastard!"
It takes ALL of Dereks considerable skill as an actor to stop himself from doing arm pumps, cartwheels and whoop in delight at master Nonons reaction. Once those words get out, Thesing will be finished as an actor in Westcrown. Good, one less overblown windbag too in love with his own reflection to make the people appreciate the arts.
Instead Derek sighs sadly.
"Such a shame, the man lived down to his reputation. I did not think it my place to mention it, but amongst his fellow actors he has a bit of a bad...air. It does not surprise me that he failed to see this production for the masterpiece it was."
Derek quickly cheers up.
"This all calls for a celebration! And I happen to know a tavern that never close, carters to actors and which carries the most delightful selection of ales, pastries and dancers. Come on, my treat, and I won't take no for an answer!"
Dereks arm takes in his fellow gardeners, the extras, master Nonon and Millech.
"let us not waste good drinking time!"
Tomorrow begins the serious business again, but tonight, tonight we will celebrate in a fashion we earned.
Derek nudges Maddok.
"Haha, that is what is known as a fringe benefit, but I will tell you this big brother, between me, you, Appario, the extras and Master Nonon plus Thesing (if he had stayed) we would not even amount to a FRACTION of what Semenya and Yahrima have been getting."
He then offers his arm to Amaya, and the other to Hannah.
"We travel in style tonight, for tonight we walk amongst the giants of the stage."
Tonight Appario is going to drink more than he ever has in his life: probably two or three drinks.
He is still aglow at finishing the play, so happy that he is momentarily forgetting what a farce it was and silly thing to do. And ever so happy that it is over.
"Another good day for the Gardeners," Appario says as he inspects a piece of jewelry. "Glorious and well worth the pain." Appario begins to spit polish a nice green brooch on his cloak.
I'm ready to celebrate!
During the course of the evening's celebration, and also over the course of the following days, the PCs frequently find themselves approached by fans of their performance. Some want an autograph, or to offer a free drink, but most simply want to learn first-hand about the horrible experiences they faced during the play.
It quickly becomes apparent that far too many people approach them for the amount that could be seated in the Nightshade Theater, and it seems that about half the city claim to have been present at the legendary performance. The occasional bard has even composed songs about "The Sixfold Survivors".
The morning after also brings with it a personally delivered invitation to each actor. A well-dressed servant approaches each PC either at home or at market.
"Greetings, my good sir/madam. Lord-Mayor Aberian Arvanxi hereby invites you to his villa to partake at the Cornucopia this evening. The feast begins 6 hours after midday, and the Lord-Mayor has requested that you arrive wearing your costumes from last night's wonderful performance."
After waiting for a response to the invitation and any questions each may have, the servant bows and leaves.
"Jump!" Derek exclaims out of the blue, and after a few seconds he grins at the no doubt startled servant.
"Of course I'll jump to accept such a gracious invitation."
Derek makes sure to jump on top of whatever market stall gives him the highest vantage point of the situation before sweeping his arm in a grand gesture.
"I'll be there with bells on, assuming there was any on my costume of course, I can't quite remember, I was too busy fighting ogre skeletons and bearded devils."
This statement is bold, loud and completely obvious to anyone in the most likely crowded marketplace.
That ought to help me negotiate for the metal I am looking for, maybe I'll be able to buy some of that wonderful mithril after all?
Derek then jumps down in front of the by now no doubt flabbergasted servant who had the (ill) fortune to deliver the message (and possibly bowing to any onlookers) and grins like a Cheshire cat.
"Should we be expecting some sort of carriage to come for us?"
Now I just have to find that bard who wrote that little ditty about us and have a talk about professional courtesy, imagine a fellow bard writing a song about it before *I* had a chance!
Appario arises early the next morning, eager to hit the market.
Finally done with that farce! Now we can get back to business!
Clutching the assorted jewelry that people have asked him to sell, Appario looks forward to haggling and bargaining in turning the jewelry into gold.
And the great circle of wealth continues: the wealthy men to their wives, the wives to lucky thieves, then to 'adventurers' who take the jewelry from the thieves...and back to the merchants who sell them back to the wealthy. Appario is glad the great circle exists...for within each transaction there is an opportunity for profit.
In addition to selling the assorted jewelry, Appario sells his old heavy shield (signed if the merchant wants it), thieves tools, and his old bastard sword.
He struts proudly through the merchant streets, Extortion above his shoulder, surprised at how many recognize and know him from the play.
"Yes, of course, this *IS* the blade that bit deep into the devil," Appario says, drawing the sword again with no small measure of pride.
"Buy me a drink? Sure, a quick one. Can we discuss business while we do? Have I told you about the service of the Church...?"
"You want me to sign your what where, ma'am!?"
Appario stops and watches Derek for a bit in the marketplace. Appario yells, "Always the showman, eh, Derek!? Great performance!" before moving on to his business.
He will purchase a nicer set of thieves tools (MW).
Yahirma tries to focus on Maddok's kind words, but she is quickly swept up by the adoring crowd. At best familiar with tribal reverence from a distance, discomfort mingles with the exultation of being a star. Throughout the course of the evening, she is escorted from one establishment of alcoholic debauchery to another, and she has many opportunities to practice posing with a glass of some bizarre-smelling liquid or another as onlooker "ooo" and "aah."
In answering questions about some of the vile creatures she faced, Yahirma quickly runs out of facts. Unfortunately, the minimal information she can provide only whips up the crowd to ask more. Despite being largely sober, Yahirma can barely recall the details of where she goes, who she meets, and what preposterous trivia she makes up to keep the crowd from becoming ugly. A few hours after the performance's end, she slips into the Gardeners' headquarters and presses her body against a quickly closed door. After a few quick, heavy breaths - during which her eyes dart about the room feverishly on the lookout for more admiring fans - she lets out a haggard breath.
When the caged chicken (so neglected this week) greets her with an emphatic "bwaaahk," Yahirma jumps nearly a foot straight up before dashing upstairs to her room.
Tomorrow...tomorrow I need to learn about how to handle crowds.
Shuddering both from the residual performance high and the lingering anxiety, she sleeps fitfully through the night.
The next day, she catches Appario and requests he sell her share of the gems along with his. She then strikes out towards the theater to try and contact a few of the established actors; although she fell into acting quite naturally, she feels it is after the performance that she requires the greatest amount of advice and training. There is a brief period in which she considers going to Derek, but she dismisses the idea; certainly he will be busy reveling in his popularity and swinging some of his social weight to better his own acting company's status.
Nodding to herself in silent agreement, she pries her leg free of another admirer in the street and accepts an invitation before striding off to the theater. As she takes the letter, she will inquire as to whether it is customary to bring any gifts for the host.
Semenya had thought that playing Dentris would offer her some small measure of anonymity. The fake beard. The makeup. The uncomfortable binding across her chest to make her look like a frail old man, rather than a voluptuous green-skinned half-orc woman...
Much to her chagrin...no. She's been asked to perform outtakes of her lines in public. She's been asked how she incinerated that ogre skeleton. She's discovered that, in many ways, being "renowned" makes it harder for her to blend in to the crowds as she was used to doing, asking a few questions here and there.
When news of the invitation arrives, including the request to wear that costume again, she mutters darkly about having -words- with the inventor of the minimizer corset. Dire words.
But inside, she's pleased at the attention - and is more than glad enough to let Derek sop it up. Eventually, they'll forget about her role - and she can go back to being unnoticed.
Maddok's forge was busier than it had ever been the following day but not with those that appreciated his craftsmanship. The mass of fans at first confuses the big Shoanti, then intimidates him, and finally drives him to a rage. The smith grabs a particularly irritating rat-faced man by the collar and prepares to pulverize him with a meaty fist when he reminds himself of why he went along with the all this foolishness in the first place. She's still out there. She needs me.
Instead he drops his would-be victim on the ground and leans back roaring in fury. Putting on a show, he grabs the nearby oil-cloth he'd been working with and whips it in the air as if it were the prop he wielded the night before. Working the crowd's excitement he lifts another fan bodily in the air and feigns crushing him in a bearhug as he had the bearded monster. Turning to the group of young female admirers he knew had been watching him sweat at the forge for close to an hour he flexes one mammoth bicep and winks.
When the invitation arrives the big man thanks him courteously and sends him on his way. This was exactly what they had been counting on. The plan, as complicated as it was, had worked perfectly. That being, Maddok could not help but groan at the thought of being Drovalid one last time. The ill fitting demon-faced codpiece and ornamental revealing armor were just too absurd.
During his day at the market, Appario discovers that fame does have its benefits, as merchants occasionally get into bidding wars for the honor of having the famous actor as a customer, or for the chance at owning an item once used by one of the "Sixfold Survivors".
***
Derek's grandstanding provides a sizeable audience, and he finds it difficult to get out of the market square afterwards, as everyone wants a piece of the famous actor who played Larazod to such perfection.
The servant looks up at the darkening sky, then answers Derek's question. "It looks as if it will rain by the time the Cornucopia begins. Most guests will probably arrive in carriages. If you don't have access to one, I know of a place where you can rent a carriage for a day."
***
"Gifts are not necessary, especially since this event was in part made to celebrate your performance."
Semenya would like to pick up a few scrolls at our magic vendor of choice.
Darkness * 2 (150 GP)
Detect Traps * 3 (75 GP)
Invisibility * 3 (225 GP)
Darkvision * 2 (150 GP) (Recommend the party pick up a few of these per person. Being able to move without light sources will be very handy)
Shatter * 1 (75 GP)
Derek is going to look for the following:
3 Mwk Silver daggers.
1 Mwk Silver light Mace
A price estimate for how much mithril is needed for a breastplate
Someone willing to enchant a rapier.
If his thing of followers makes such a thing impossible he will just consign himself to being a showman for the rest of the evening, and if he DO find someone he will do his best to play up on his new reputation and possibly namedropping the vendors name as his outfitter of choice.
Towards the end of the evening he will find the gardener that was interested in learning wizardry and introduce her to her new master, warning her to be respectful and not mind his appearance.
Realizing that these sequences of multiple combats can wear down the resources quickly, Yahirma seeks to purchase a wand of cure light wounds.
Or perhaps she saw something that would fit the description sitting around HQ... she holds off the purchase until she can check back with everyone as to whether they already possess such a wand.
After chatting a bit with a few theater folks, she will then meet back with the group.
Tarvi is excited about the prospect of finally meeting someone who can teach her the proper art of magic, and goes to her meeting with Millech full of high spirits. Derek can also tell that Amaya has now become a full-fledged bard, and Mathalen seems to be in much higher spirits since beginning her training with Erik Two-Finger.
Those of you who have made their way to the Gardeners' safehouse this morning receive a warm welcome with rejoicing and congratulations on such a well-received performance, combined with a copious amount of food. During lunch, dark clouds gather in the sky outside, and it seems apparent that the evening's feast will be accompanied by heavy rains.
Before you leave the safehouse, Janiven and Arael both wish you good luck with your task in Aberian's Folly and Arael hands those who are present five potions of cure serious wounds and five potions of lesser restoration that he has created for you.
The rains begin as you make your way from the safehouse to the theater to put on your costumes one final time, and they quickly turn into a torrential downpour. It's immediately obvious that you will need a carriage or some other method of staying dry if you're not going to arrive at the feast looking like drenched rats.
Holding out his hand and letting the rain wash over if for a moment, Derek sighs dramatically, he then turns with a smile and addresses his friends.
"Worry not my stalwart companions, clever Derek has made sure to find out about a good place to rent a carriage. Right this way."
Before leaving, Derek makes sure to pat his collection of fine silver weapons, getting used to the difference in weight to his normal set.
Arael is good at crafting potions, when we return; I better look at the gardeners and see if anyone of them is fit to be his apprentice. A monk, a wizard and a Bard so far, and one who could become a decent Sorcerer if he spends a little more time with m'lady Carbachon.
Derek Pauses in his musing to stroke his beard and make sure he is walking in the right direction before continuing.
I also believe someone seemed to get along well with master Apofysi, but where am I to find a different druid to be that one’s teacher? Ah well, next time I am at the headquarters, I’ll interview everyone who is left and see if I can figure out where their strength lies.
Maddok growls as the weather grows intense, "Lead the way little brother. I fear this armor will rust and melt away if it gets too wet", the smith says tapping on a piece of the costume iron.
Strangely for him, Appario looks forward to the feast. He feels he's earned it and after today's market experience, he feel that things are going quite well here in Westcrown.
Tonight, getting into his costume and Tybain personae doesn't feel like such a chore nor does he loathe it quite as much.
Maybe this is last time, eh?
Grabbing all the equipment he thinks he might need this night including his new set of tools), Appario packs while humming. He will stow one potion of Cure Serious Wounds and one Lesser Restoration in his front pouch with the rest of his curatives.
* * *
@Maddok: "I know that you're probably tired of me saying it, Master Maddok, but two things still strike me with awe about our performance: both this blade," Appario pulls Extortion out again, still *loving* the sound it makes as it leaves the sheath, "...and your barehanded mauling of the devil with the beard. I'll dub it a 'Bearded Devil' for lack of any better name to call it. Either way, you were very impressive! And today we celebrate!" Appario reluctantly sheathes his new sword.
@Derek: "Thanks for seeing to the carriage. I'd like to arrive in a manner that pleases our hosts and gives them the impression that we are playing along. Maybe we should discuss our plans again, Master Thespian...you're not going to drink yourself silly before we need to act, are you? If you wish, you can match me in drinks and we'll both stay dry?"
@Yahirma: "Good day, m'Lady. I hope this day finds you well. As always, I feel calmed and safer in your presence...though I'm not sure how any minute danger this party might offer would compare to our recent trials. This will be a walk in the park. By the by, at some future time, I'd like to talk to you about doing some magical work for me. I see you have some talent in crafting..."
Derek grins and salutes Maddok smartly.
"Yessir big brother, but I lay low odds that SOME of the party goers would enjoy the sight you in your birthday suit, and not JUST the women either."
The brawny Shoanti looks at Derek in confusion for a moment before 'getting it' and half-smirking at the bard's jest.
Addressing Appario, "I am glad I was able to hold the beast at bay. I did not want it bringing that pitted blade to bear again. Despite the demonic appearance, it was made and flesh like you and I and all flesh bleeds. I think 'bearded devil' is an excellent name for such a creature".
"Extortion and you are a good fit", Maddok agrees. "But I think with more time I could improve her further. The balance isn't quite perfect".
Derek looks incredulously at Appario.
"You match me drink for drink? Oh I get it, "we both stay dry" as in having none. I doubt we can get away with it; we have to get the other people drunk enough that they won't notice us sneaking off or something. Besides, I can pace myself, I've got years of experience, and I’m more worried about the rest of you."
After hearing the discussion about the devil, Derek chuckles.
”Clearly you are reading from the same script, but seriously, a devil have a “beard” and you name it a bearded devil? At least try a little harder. How about “Bristly bush face devil”?”
"Ha! You speak truth! 'Bearded Devil' is a silly name, but I, for one, felt the sting of his glaive. The blood that flowed would not stop and it felt like my life's essence would drain from the wound with each passing moment. I'd likely want to define it by the glaive rather than the beard. 'Be-glaived Devil' works best for me." Appario smiles in reply.
"Though having said that, I think we could call it 'Maddok's #@$^*' for the way he made it his own." Appario laughs and smacks Maddok on the back.
Appario climbs into the carriage after helping the ladies therein.
Getting in last, he closes the carriage door and takes a seat.
"I've never been in a carriage before. Not sure I like it. I can't see the goods on sale and how can the hawkers pitch there wares to me if I am hidden behind a curtain."
Nonetheless, Appario smiles and enjoys the carriage ride though he feels silly being inside just to protect his costume.
Derek gives Appario a quick but gentle rap on his forehead.
"And you call ME single minded? Two points then my friend, first, it is getting dark, so they are not open anymore, second, it is raining so much we need a carriage, most merchants will be indoors anyway."
Considering for a moment, Derek adds.
"Plus, we now give of the air of wealth, so many merchants WOULD attempt to come to us rather than us needing to come to them."
"And speaking of nothing, "Nasty-rusty-glaivy devil."