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"Ow, ew!" Cassandra exclaims as Wednesday erupts into a font of blood.
"Stupid..." Cassandra reaches down and grabs hold of his shoulders and begins dragging him away from the demon.
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The leuokodaemon's brutality takes the fight out of Wednesday (at least for the moment) but Cassandra's quick reaction pulls him from further danger. And, as it turns out, Wednesday's hardy stubbornness seems to have enabled him to stabilize. If left alone, he would recover in time, but is that time available?
All Tolenn can see monentarily as the outsider tears into Wednesday is a mist of blood. She heaves a sigh of thanks when she sees Cassandra bodily haul Wednesday back from certain death.
"Tend to him, Terri! she calls out, her face grim with determination, gleaming scimitar flashing ....
"I will, but I gotta help you with this first!"
Witnessing Wednesday go do was the final crack in the dam that was Victor's patience. It was almost an after thought as he directed the flaming sphere to assault the cleric that assaulted the cultist that recent approached Amira. The own man's shadow stretched its hand, grabbed the deadly fire ball and drew it near at incredible speeds.
Victor could feel the anger taking hold and he almost welcomed it, but he gritted his teeth and refocused on the situation. He looked to the remaining cultists and wondered if they truly believed that they were getting out of this alive.
"Ya know we could keep the rest of ya alive if ya surrender now. Cause if ya ain't stupid ya can see there is no winning this...not for the rest of ya anyway. Ya will be long dead before we are done with this daemon" He said to them in nonchalant manner and waited for no response as he turned his grey eyes to the demon they faced.
What the sorcerer had in mind was risky. in all honesty he did not know if it will affect the daemon that much if at all...but when Cassandra mentioned it's resistance to damage she could have meant all types If it is...then I am taking a gamble on nothing Victor struggled to push his doubts aside. It was better to take this chance then to regret not acting later. He looked to Wednesday once more, the blood the monster spilled was all around him...it seemed that he was hanging in there though. Victor cast hateful eyes on the daemon. Placed both of his hands forward and felt a far darker side to his magic come forth. Greenish sickly sparks of eldritch sprang forth around his outstretched hands before a beam of similar quality lunged forwards towards the daemon.
The badly wounded cultist at the flaming sphere fails again to dodge it and falls under the searing heat.
Her blade spinning with dazzling speed, Amira swiftly slices her opponent twice in rapid succession.
The daemon is not only hit by the ray of enfeeblement, it penetrates his resistance to magic, and he is fully affected by the lassitude. Its shoulders visibly sag.
Amira stabs her opponent twice with her blade. He is clearly badly wounded, but still survives. His face turns gray from the wounds (he's been hit quite often this fight).
In the fight against the daemon, luck does not seem to be on the side of the heroes. Neither Tolenn nor Terri can land a solid blow on the foul creature.
The cultists, however, both decide to exercise a bit of discretion. They withdraw and start heading down the corridor from the back of the chamber. The leukodaemon does not seem the least bit put out to be the last one fighting in the room. He turns his attention to the paladin. The evil being's claws and fangs slash, but not as much as they might have - 7, 6, and 10 points of damage.
Park growls as Cassandra throws a last ditch effort at the monster, trying to buy the group some breathing space.
"Who you gonna call?!"
"We only have a few seconds before it returns!"
Cassandra punches through the daemon's resistance. Feeling the extra planar tug, and interpreting it as a way off this plane where he had been trapped in a life-sucking bottle, he lets the spell take him (and auto-blows his save).
Hearing Cassandra's warning, Terri holds her holy symbol aloft before chanting a prayer.
"Shelyn, please bind the wounds and mend the hurts of my friends!"
For a moment, the stench of the room is overpowered by the smell of a spring garden. Ghostly gold and silver images of flowers, shrubs, and trees spread from Terri, fading out about ten paces from her. A songbird can be heard faintly singing from somewhere as some of Tolenn and Wednsday's wounds heal.
As Terri's divine gifts fall upon him Wednesday at first lays motionless. And then he begins to stir, hacking up some extra blood as he slowly rolls over in order to prop himself up. "Did ya get it?" he coughs out without looking, though he didn't currently hear the familiar sounds of fighting so he hoped the question was rhetorical.
Standing up somewhat upright he staggers over to where he dropped his sword.
"Neutralized it for six seconds." Cassandra says as she watches the spot where the daemon will reappear.
"Get up and ready to fight."
"Groovy."
Tolenn takes surprised step back as the daemon disappears, then relaxes for a bit at Cassandra'S explanation.
Smiling as Sheyln' healing washed over her, Tolenn rotated her shoulder where the daemon had stuck her. Still feeling a bit sore, Tolenn raises her scimitar and brings it down into a horizontal cut, Saranae, let you light bless and protect.
Where the scimitar cut the air, light sang forth, the warm, just broken light of dawn. Light plays over the group warming, healing.
Much refreshed, Tolenn makes ready for the daemon'S return.
The smite evil effect remains until the target of the smite is dead or the next time the paladin rests and regains her uses of this ability.
Feeling more of his wounds knit close as the divine poured into him Wednesday started to let his head droop in reverence before catching himself.
In less then a second the foe they strived to take down disappeared from their vision. It appeared to be Cassandra's doing I'll have to ask her to teach me how to do that Thought Victor as he breathed a sigh of relief...which was cut throat when the wizard informed them that the daemon would make its return.
Victor clenched his teeth, he should have known it wouldn't be that easy "Wonderful" Sarcasm dripped freely from the sorcerer's comment, while he motioned for the flaming ball to move to where their enemy was standing. The ball rolled along what appeared to be a river made of shadows that guided it to tis destination "At least we'll be ready for him"
The dark patches in the area began converging on the shadow mage. Crawling on empty air and solid ground. Victor directed the darkness to his fist till it was a lightless beacon. With a snarl the shadow mage slammed his fist to the ground, causing the darkness that gathered to launch itself in a zigzagging, thick line across the ground. The stream of eldritch power slammed into Tolenn's shadow. In response the woman's silhouette erupted into an ebony pillar that crackled with energy. The pillar grew wider and larger...then it dissipated, leaving a larger version of Tolenn behind.
Tolenn sees her shadow rising behind her out of the corner of her eye and turns, thinking it was the returning daemon. Then she sees a trail of shadow leading back to where Victor crouched, his face a mask of concentration.
Nodding and smiling a little at her own jumpiness, she allows the spell to continue, marvelling as her vision rises with her frame until she towers above her companions.
Settling into her new size, Tolenn waits for the daemon's rematerialization...
Blinking a few times as Tolenn grows, Wednesday knods his head approvingly once her transformation is complete.
As the deamon vanishes and the others prepare, Amira chants the words to a spell running after one of the fleeing enemies and touching him as he flees, calling upon his wounds to worsen.
Amira's touch causes the fleeing cultist's wounds to spurt a little more blood. He gives out a sound that's almost like a sob as he slows down, crushed by both the exhaustion of the spell and becoming disabled . He feebly tries to keep fleeing. His fellow is already well down the hall.
When the leukodaemon reappears, he seems to be in a towering rage as the shunt spell, rather than being a dismissal or route off this plane, brings him back. He turns to face Cassandra, intent on punishing her severely.
The paladin's scimitars slash deeply into the daemon's flesh, his daemonic durability offering him no benefit at all. He collapses!
"No one touch it." Cassandra says, "Even with the masks on, we might still end up infected. We need to be careful."
Cassandra leaves the mop up to others. Instead, she steps up to the tanks and examines them carefully, taking her time.
"Where are those notes we got?" Cassandra mumbles. "I think I'll actually have to read them."
Terri shudders as the vile thing goes down. It was only a moment, for she has other concerns, namely stopping the cultist that was still up. She steps to where her glaive can reach the man just as he begins to dash down the hall.
Terri can pursue the cultist, but he does have a substantial head start (he's about halfway down the hall) and, it becomes apparent, she's not really any faster than him.
The hallway off the back of the room is actually fairly long - maybe 100 feet - and slopes a bit downward (though not particularly steeply) before it enters a chamber. You all can hear the cultist running pellmell down it calling out "Milady! Milady! Intruders!"
Cassandra's quick examination of the tube apparatus and daemons yields a few ideas of their function. They seem to bind the daemons within them, keeping them from freeing themselves. The three full tubes each contain a leukodaemon body that appears to be quite dead, even somewhat emaciated looking as if something has drained it of... something. Exactly how it managed to do this is currently indecipherable.
Tolenn stands over the fallen daemon, taking deep breaths as the glory of Saranae's power slowly bleeds off of her form. The light emanating from her scimitar fades , as if the sun were going down.
She cocks her head at the cultists' cries, " Ah, we've found the center of this corruption it would seem. Let us hasten after the lackey and make our introductions..."
She then begins to stride down the hall...
The fiend finally lay dead. Still crouched and his fist kissing the floor, Victor rose up and released a breath of relief...a feeling that had a habit of leaving him early. For just as soon as he got up did he note the fleeing cultist.
Their target had a pretty strong head start but Victor had one or two ideas on how to make people freeze in their tracks.
"Yes, run that way! I hope ya will enjoy being food for my pet" He said in a brazen and arrogant voice that was not his own. Then placed a hand to his mouth and began whispering incoherently.
A lion's roar boomed from the direction the cultist was running to.
Grinning at Victor's trick, Amira walks over to Cassandra, leaning on her shoulder. "That was pretty amazing what you did with the demon."
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Terri hears Victor's words and the roar, and makes a split second decision to try something.
But she can't stop giggling at the idea once it hits her long enough to actually follow through.
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Park leaps off of Cassandra's shoulder and begins exploring the room, searching for hidden treasure.
Cassandra leans against Amira.
"Was like trying to cast a spell through gelatin." Cassandra admits. "Creatures like that have a... field around them that warps and disrupts magic. It almost didn't work. I'm pretty much tapped out, spellwise, unless we want a spiderweb shelter."
She smiles, eyes closing.
"Are we done yet? I want to get outside and see the sky with you."
Initiative
Andaisin starts off by casting a spell, but otherwise stands her ground, giving her cultist subordinate a stern look. "Yes, mistress," he says with a gulp as he turns to check Wednesday's progress.
Wednesday can successfully charge the cultist...
Meanwhile, back in the tunnel, the cultist afflicted with the bleeding spell and who has been limping alone for a moment or two, collapses to the floor due to the blood loss. He is out of the fight.
Oh, yes, the ghost sound.
Unfortunately, the roaring of the ghost sound spell does not seem to have an effect on the cultist's resolve or focus.
Wednesday runs down the cultist.
The cultist staggers from Wednesday's blow, but is committed to his course of action. He readies his scythe for a return strike...
Terri comes running up behind Wednesday, she sees the priestess casting a spell, but her mind is racing with too many other things to determine what it is.
Cassandra straightens up and off of her partner's shoulder.
"Where in seven hells did everyone go?"
She grabs hold of Amira's hand.
"Park! Come on!" Then she starts running.
For a few moments Victor's mind was somewhat occupied by Terri's giggle Wonder which is more fun to see...her giggles or her roaring speeches The appearance of a new and possibly their final foe here halted that thought in place, replacing it with possible stratagems and schemes to use against their enemy.
In the end though the black haired mage decided to go with a tactic he'd used a lot since he came into the hospice. Victor snapped his fingers and a small spark appeared from between his fingers, the spark fell into the ground into a shadowy trail that began expanding from the sorcerer and towards their new adversary. The spark grew into a consuming flame as it traveled on its path to its target. Finally taking the shape of a pulsing ball of fire.
"Are we done yet? I want to get outside and see the sky with you."
”Soon baby. This will all be over soon.” Amira says comfortingly.
As Cassandra grabs her hand, she joins her at a full run taring toward the final confrontation in this vile place, eager to breathe their city’s air again.
The long hall opens into a circular chamber rising into a high dome. Seven basins jut from the walls within evenly spaced alcoves around the room's circumference. Each is filled to the bring with a different liquid corruption - blood, bile, etc. Each also seems to have its own reek, creating a chamber with a truly noxious bouquet. Upon the floor near each basin like several small boxes, each carved with images of skulls.
At the center of the room, rising from a wide pool of crystalline water, rises a golden statue designed to be both erotic and horrifying. It depicts a beautiful nude woman, human above the waist, but below this the figure is nothing more than a skeleton - the common imagery used for Urgathoa, herself.