"Lets keep the shields with us just in case."
How many charges do I have left on the wand?
(I think 9)
(I think 9)
Yeah...healing would be good about now...one hit each from the wand??
"I think we should patch ourselves up before moving on." Kerren pulls out the wand of cure light wounds.
The southern door of the arrow pillar room is locked. You remember the key you found way back in the room with shadows and fire. The key unlocks the door. It leads to a short hallway that opens out into a triangular room. Four pillars form a wide square in the center of the room.
A continuous carving of mourners runs along the walls here, leading to a staircase on the south side of the room. A pair of statues flank the stairs along the wall.
From behind the pillars four skeletons claw their way toward you, their bones dripping with blood.
Santoval's sword rings as it knocks into a pillar, missing the skeleton before him.
Two of the skeletons move in to attack Kerren and Yarroth in the entryway. Yarroth dodges the claw that swings at him, but Kerren takes a vicious strike to the arm. The skeleton that Santoval swung at retaliates with two quick attacks, but only one lands; a vicious swipe across his chest. Another skeleton moves in to flank Santoval, but fails to connect against the wary swordsman.
Yarroth swings his shortsword at the skeleton trying to attack him, wishing, not for the first time, that he had brought a blunt weapon with him!
Anton moves in to assist Santoval who is being flanked by two skeletons, and slashes downward at the one behind him.
Yarroth's swing goes wide, missing the bloody skeleton before him. Anton's blow smashes the rib of skeleton, but the bone begins to slowly regrow before his eyes.
Yarroth and Anton avoid the clumsy strikes of the skeletons near them. Poor Santoval is struck by two vicious claws and collapses to the floor.
Anton's eyes go wide as he watches the bone grow back where he smashed the skeleton in the ribs. "We must cut them down quickly Yarroth! Kerren, can you help Santoval, or turn these undead?
Anton's vicious swing shatters the skeleton, its bones clatter to the floor.
Yarroth tries again to strike the monsters attacking them.
Yarroth's sword whistles through empty air between the bones of his opponent.
Two of the skeletons strike at Anton, but he deflects most of the blows with his heavy armor. One claw finds a weak joint in his armor, drawing blood. Yarroth has limited success avoiding his assailant, and takes a vicious cut on his leg.
Now surrounding by the clawing skeletons, Anton readies for another strike. "Come on you bastards, you'll have to do better than that!"
Gritting his teeth, Yarroth swings at the boney horrors attacking them
Anton's swing seems to barely scratch the skeleton.
Anton and Yarroth struggle valiantly against the skeletons, but they cannot avoid all of the claws.
"Must...keep...swinging." Anton says between labored breaths.
Anton's blow knocks the skeleton back, staggering it.
Praying to the gods, Yarroth attempts to hit the skeleton.
The skeleton Anton hit stands there, its bones slowly regrowing. Yarroth manages to avoid the skeleton's blows, but has no better luck attacking. Anton takes a deep cut along his side as the skeleton finds a weak point in his armor.
Anton swears an foul oath, and attempts to withdraw from the fight, dragging Santoval with him.
Anton and Yarroth flee from the room, slamming the door behind them. They reach the entrance, where they meet a pair of villagers.
"Thank the gods. The dead have risen and taken over the crypt. We tried to defeat this evil, but it was too strong." Yarroth collapses to the ground, overcome from his wounds and the terror of the crypt. He takes a few deep breaths, steadying himself then regains his feet.
Anton drops to one knee, shaking his head. "To make it that far, and fail...no, no - we must prevail." Looking down at Santoval, he pounds a mailed fist against the ground. "Damn it, damn it. Desna's luck didn't come through for us. If only we had someone with the touch of the divine with us, maybe things would have gone differently."
Anton barely notices the two villagers standing outside the entrance. Looking up, he squints as if seeing them in a dream. "Who...who are you?"
A slightly doughy looking man of middle years stands near the entrance, a sketchbook in his hand and an intent expression on his face as he scribbles in a book. It looks like he spends most of his time indoors, as his skin has a sallow cast to it, and to be honest, it doesn't look like he exercises much. A woven braid of hair, symbol of Irori, hangs around his neck. He is wearing scaled armor, but he wears his armor awkwardly, as if he is uncomfortable with its weight and fit, and in fact it looks like someone has squeezed him into armor that is a bit too small.
He looks startled as Anton and Yarroth emerge, Anton dropping the body of a wounded man to the ground.
"Who are you!?", the man sputters, closing his book and gripping a large mace with white knuckles. He squints his eyes at them for a moment, then smiles broadly.
"Well you aren't undead, so I am going to assume that you are the lost villagers that I was told about. I am here to rescue you! I am very excited, I haven't ever really rescued anyone before. Most of the time I spend with my books, but since I was passing through to Kaer Maga, where I will join a new cloister, I was in town when your short friend came running through yelling about undead and dead villagers and other horrors. So I figured that I could be of some help and rescue the villagers from the vile jaws of the undead." Seeing the expressions on Anton and Yarroth's faces he sputters to a stop.
"I have a wand and I am not afraid to use it!", he say suddenly, pulling a wand out of his sleeve, pointing it at the two men and shooting a beam of yellow light at them.
"I never answered your question! Tarric Abol, it is a pleasure to save you."
sounds good to me!!
"Th..Thank you." Anton still seems a bit bewildered by the verbosity and generosity of the man standing before them.
Looking at Yarroth, he clasps his hand on the half-elf's shoulder. "Yarroth my friend, please know that I am never lacking in courage...but I'm just not quite ready to charge back into that crypt yet."
"Perhaps we should get acquainted with our new friend here, have a hot meal and some rest, and be at our very best when we are scouring the rotten stain from that horrible place." he says, almost cracking a smile.
"Gods damn it, I do feel better," he says, nodding at Tarric, "but it's like my bruises and cuts have bruises and cuts of their own."
[ooc]Rest, rest and more rest..lol...and level up??? lol[ooc]
Yarroth wearily nods his head. "You are right Anton, rest and a good meal. I too feel the need to destroy the undead blight on these halls, and redeem ourselves to our fallen comrades. And I too, welcome any who are willing to join in our fight against this evil!"
Tarric looks extremely disappointed, and keeps glancing behind Anton and Yarroth, as if he is hoping something vile will emerge from the tomb.
"Well, alright, I guess, if you are too tired to go on, we can head back to town..."
Anton looks back towards the crypt. "On the other hand, time may be of the essence here - we still haven't found that woman who was abducted, and we've yet to find the source of the evil. Might be wise to destroy it before it spreads."
Anton gets to his feet, checks the action of his sword in the scabbard, and begins walking back towards the entrance. "I suppose today is as good a day to die as any." he says, a somewhat maniacal grin on his face. "Let's kill some undead, shall we?"
"Wonderful, whatever your name is! I look forward to the destruction of the evil horde at your side!"
"Mr. Yarroth, you still don't look very good. Hold on a moment."
Tarric looks critically at Anton for a moment, then puts the wand away and unlimbers a very old mace. You would think that it hasn't seen service, or a polishing rag, in twenty years. Tarric seems oblivious to the condition of his weapon, and to the ill fit of his armor though.
"Well?" he says, waving his mace around, either trying to be dramatic, or working out the muscles of his arm, "Shall we go back in?"
With renewed vigor, you make your way back into the crypt. You pause a moment before the door, a partial bloody footprint reminding you of the dangers inside. Prepared for anything, you kick open the door. The four bloody skeletons are crouched over the bodies of your fallen companions.
Quickly glancing at his sword, and then at the blunt edge of his shield, Anton attempts to side swipe the boss of his heavy wooden shield at the nearest skeleton.
Two of the skeletons swipe at Anton, while the other two move in to attack Tarric and Yarroth. Prepared for the onslaught, only one claw reaches past Anton's shield to connect with flesh.