Dantrian scowls as Drosil maintains his position by the wall but holds his tongue.
HP: 21/24
AC: 25 (15 T / 20 FF) (19 vs incorporeal touch attacks)
CMD: 18
F/R/W: +4/+4/+1
Hero Points used: 1/3
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision) [X]
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [X] [X], shield [X], open [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
mutagen: 8/10 rounds, 7/30 minutes
shield: 4/30 rounds
total defense
Dantrian scowls as Drosil maintains his position by the wall but holds his tongue.
The Lopper attacks Drosil, sick of being drenched in holy water and stabbed by the vile fetchling. His axe tears across Drosil's chest, again chilling him and causing his skin to split and bleed. The badly wounded Lopper then withdraws into the stone of the wall again, disappearing.
Drosil feels the bite of the Lopper's phantom axe. He grimaces and grunts at the pain, but takes the opportunity to move toward center of the room, towards the healers. "Someone kill him - I'm not going to last much longer at this rate."
Tibideau rolls his eyes at the Lopper's reappearance. He scolds the murderer severely. "Oh, a little chop here, a chop there, then you hurt one of my friends AGAIN. Find some new material! I'm getting bored now." He yawns excessively loudly and dramatically, stretching his arms as far as they will go. His facial expression contorts into a menacing sneer. "And I HATE. BEING. BORED." As his arms return to his side, he mumbles and grumbles while nudging Janos on the shoulder. "Janos. FINISH HIM." His spell complete, he crosses his arms and gives the stinkeye to the point in the wall where the Lopper disappeared.
"Get back from the walls!" Janos shouts! "If we're away from the walls, he has to come out to get us." The Ranger's eyes dart around waiting for any sign of the Lopper to strike him again.
Anton moves to the grate covering the oubliette.
B'yelka stops singing, letting the lingering effects of her song work, This could take far too long! She waits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Lopper before he strikes. Maybe I can give a warning?
Dantrian scowls as Drosil maintains his position by the wall but holds his tongue.
--------------------------------
The Lopper reappears partially out of the floor at Drosil's feet. Laughing he swings his axe at the fetchling while he says in a scratchy voice, "Silly giant...we's got floors too." Drosil dodges out of the way quickly, avoiding the blow.
_________________________________
As the Lopper appears out of the floor beside him, Anton tries a different tactic.
He reaches out a hand glowing with radiant energy and tries to touch the foul spirit.
Desna take you, beast.
"And we'll be sending you to hell, Lopper!" Janos moves around his friends on the north side of the room and slams his axe down at the ghost.
Frowning, B'yelka moves away from the Lopper. She waits for the Lopper to try another attack; her whip is ready to distract him.
Round 9
"Floors will not save you either, wraith." Dantrian upends the vial of holy water then, his eyes narrowed in satisfaction. He draws another flask if the wraith yet remains.
HP: 21/24
AC: 21 (11 T / 20 FF) (15 vs incorporeal touch attacks)
CMD: 18
F/R/W: +4/+4/+1
Hero Points used: 1/3
Prepared Mutagen: Strength (darkvision) [X]
Prepared 1st Level Extracts (3+1): cure light wounds [X] [X], shield [X], open [ ]
-Ongoing Effects-
mutagen: 9/10 rounds, 7/30 minutes
shield: 5/30 rounds
The Lopper reappears partially out of the floor at Drosil's feet. Laughing he swings his axe at the fetchling while he says in a scratchy voice, "Silly giant...we's got floors too." Drosil dodges out of the way quickly, avoiding the blow.
As the Lopper appears out of the floor beside him, Anton tries a different tactic. He reaches out a hand glowing with radiant energy and tries to touch the foul spirit. "Desna take you, beast." Anton's glowing hand expels its energy into the stones of the floor as the Lopper ducks out of the way.
"And we'll be sending you to hell, Lopper!" Janos moves around his friends on the north side of the room and slams his axe down at the ghost. He chops the Lopper's head clean off, sending it sailing across the room to burst apart against the southern wall in a cloud of grey smoke. The rest of the wraith dissolves as well, leaving the room quiet.
Opening the doors lining the room reveals a series of empty and rather spartan prison cells.
Janos leans against the wall of the room, breathing heavily. "That. Wasn't easy." Suddenly he realizes he's still gripping the axe. He slowly tries to open his hand and let the axe fall to the floor.
The axe falls to the floor with a clatter.
Drosil sits on the floor, breathing heavily, head between his knees. At the sound of the axe clattering to the floor, he looks up and grins. "Well, at least there's that." A few moments later, he looks around. "I don't know about you all, but after dealing with that", he nods to the oubliette, "I'm in dire need of a drink."
When Janos finally decapitates the Lopper and drops the axe, Tibideau jumps a foot in the air, whooping loudly and pumping his fists. "THAT was fantastic. Good work! WOOHOO!" He settles down, still grinning from ear to ear, and surveys the rest of the party. He claps his hands, spreads out his arms jovially and bellows, "WHO needs healing?"
After a few moments, Drosil notices that the healing administered by Tibideau earlier has faded. His wounds, however, were still red and tender. "I don't want to monopolize your talents, Tibideau, but if you've any healing power left after treating the others, I wouldn't turn it down."
Anton recovers the bane arrow that went spiralling down the hallway.
When he returns he says;
Janos, your hand? Has the curse lifted?
He looks through his quivers and finds plenty of arrows, blunts, even silvers. But just one bane arrow and a solitary ghost touch.
Im very low on effective ammunition down here. But, we're all still standing and thats the main thing.
Janos unslings his pack and tosses his quiver of arrows towards Anton. The ranger seems exhausted, like the fight too much more out of him that the others. Or perhaps it's the lifting of the curse which is weighing on him.
"Here, Anton. You can make use of these better than I." He stares at the handaxe laying on the floor. After a moment, he pulls out his greataxe.
"If Vesorianna is right, then this shouldn't be cursed anymore, right?" He slowly moves to pick it up.
Tibideau can confirm that it's still magical, but the blood flakes off the blade and it is no longer cursed.
Before healing the others, Tibideau peers at the axe. "It's still magical," he asserts, not sure what inspired him to share this information.
Tibideau fires off four charges of the wand, the first two to Drosil and the second two to Janos. With each charge, silvery dots of light soar out of the wand and settle on his companions' wounds. After using the wand, he frowns when he sees the fetchling is still minorly injured. "I suppose that'll do for for now."
He turns to the cantankerous alchemist. "How are you doing in the healing department, Dantrian? You seem to be mostly in one piece," he asks tentatively, remembering their disagreement prior to the fight with the Lopper.
Janos nods at the Witch's observation and calmly slips the axe into his belt. He seems quite comfortable handling it, as if his time with the curse actually made him fond of it in a way.
"Dros, do you want investigate the cell below? Might as well make use of my larger side to anchor you while it lasts."
"A few lingering scratches, nothing to trouble over." Dantrian's reply is stoic and matter-of-fact, though there is a underlying strain in his voice. He shakes his head, trying to banish the images of his name scrawled a million times across the walls and turns to the grating covering the oubliette. The alchemist pauses a moment and offers over his shoulder, "Ah... but thank for your concern, Mr. LeClerc." He kneels down and looks into the pit, relying on his still twisted form's ability to see clearly in the dark.
Dantrian can see some bones, tangled with a length of rope and some other small objects scattered at the bottom of the cell. There appears to be a crossbow, a longsword, and a mace amongst other smaller things.
Drosil shrugs. "I'm willing to go down there, sure. Anyone have a rope?"
B'yelka looks at Janos and says with a smirk, I think Kendra will be just as happy as you to see that thing out of your hand. To Drosil she says, "I think I will leave the rappelling to others.
"Glad to hear you're okay!" Tibideau tells Dantrian sincerely.
In response to Drosil, he announces, "I never go into a haunted prison without a rope! It's 50 feet long, should be sufficient." He pulls the rope out of his pack and tosses it to Janos. "But, I mean, I'M not going to hold it."
B'yelka looks at Janos and says with a smirk, I think Kendra will be just as happy as you to see that thing out of your hand.
"Heeeehehehehehehe," Tibideau cackles mischievously. He winks at B'yelka, but says nothing.
"Mr. LeClerc, how much longer will your spell upon Janos last? I would wager that he might be the strongest among us at his current size. Or perhaps we might be able to secure the rope to the grating instead. Drosil, you may also want to consider knotting the rope before you descend."
Drosil nods at Dantrian. "Not that I think I need it, but I'd rather not get stuck down there. It didn't work out too well for the last guy." With a smirk, he removes his pack and weapons, then proceeds to uncoil the rope and begin knotting it.
Drosil easily makes the descent with Janos' help and retrieves the items. Along with one full human skeleton, he finds an additional skull. Perhaps the head of the flaming skeleton they faced before? Lying amongst the bones is a heavy crossbow of excellent make. It would have once been a magnificent weapon, but one arm of the bow is cracked rather badly . There is also a longsword of masterwork quality. The blade and cross guard are plain ornamented steel, but the edge remains sharp despite its years of disuse and the sword feels perfectly balanced in the fetchling's grip. A well made mace glows a soft phosphorescent blue when Drosil picks it up. Finally there's a small stone cube and a ring of keys. The ascent back up to the others is easy.
Once he's back with the others, Drosil dons his weapons and pack once more. "I'm guessing that flaming skeleton was the warden, who was killed and somehow corrupted by the Lopper?" He grabs the key ring and thumbs through the keys to look for any identifying marks or hints as to their purpose .
"He'll have another minute or so left in his enlarged form," Tibideau replies to Dantrian.
When Drosil returns with the objects, Tibideau examines them with great interest.
Tibideau is able to determine that mace is enchanted to increase its accuracy and to strike as though it were more massive than it actually is.
The stone cube can be affixed to a wall or other object and acts as an alarm.
Tibideau inspects the mace, and is delighted to discover that it may be of some value to the group. "It's enchanted to be more accurate and powerful. How advantageous!" he proclaims. Then, he picks up the stone and smiles broadly as he remembers seeing something similar before. "I read about stones like this a few years back in Colonel Crumble's Quarterly Catalog of Curious Commodities. We can put it on a solid surface, like a wall or a door or a piece of furniture, and use it as an alarm. It could be quite useful!"
Anton leans against the cold, black wall.
What hate and rage these men must have been driven by in life, to linger after death in such a forsaken place as this. Or are they just afraid of moving on, of facing what judgment by whatever gods they pay homage to?
He pushes the thought aside, best not to dwell on things like that. Not in a place like this.
Besides, we’re all still in one piece aren’t we?
He offers Drosil his hand as he clambers out of the oubliette.
Come on, friend, up you get. Tight fit? he says with a grin.
Then, turning to the others;
How is everyone faring? The power granted me by Desna is nearly spent. Dantrian, how long will it be before your form reverts? (I’m sorry, I know it’s a burden). Janos’ enlargement is only going to last another minute; he nudges Tibideau conspiratorially in the ribs, …but maybe you can get the recipe before your next midnight tryst with Kendra! Haha!
Tibideau pokes Anton on the forearm with the mace's handle. "We'll have to hire someone from the capital far more powerful than I am, so the effect can last for more than three minutes!" He ponders this for a second, then pokes Janos on the forearm, too. "Unless three minutes is already too much for you to manage!" he jokes, tittering impishly.
Dantrian's face darkens as the crass humor begins to amp up.
Petros, what would you think if you could hear these fools speaking so of your daughter?
His face twisting even more, the alchemist seems about snap, but his face relaxes after a moment as he turns to Anton,
There's little point in starting yet another argument with them all. I'm sorry, Petros.
"If yesterday was any indication, perhaps another twenty-" The alchemists shakes his head suddenly, trying once more to banish the myriad bloody letters spelling out his name in jagged shapes across the ceiling. He grunts, though it sounds more like a growl, and pinches the bridge of his nose. After a few moments, he finishes, "-minutes."
Not long after Drosil climbs back up, Janos returns to his normal size. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Nice for fighting something, but I would imagine being that large would make finding boots even harder than normal."
He chuckles. "As for Miss Lorrimor, I think she'll just be happy to have my hand freed." He smiles. "Though she was quite creative with how to deal with it." He shakes his head, but says no more.
Anton laughs heartily, a strange sound in the dank dungeon but welcome nonetheless.
Well said. And for what it's worth, I'm happy for the both of you. It seems joy is in short supply around here and it's nice to see the opportunity seized upon when it presents itself.
He looks around into the gloom.
So let's make sure we get you back into those loving arms in one piece. Everyone ok to continue? The next cellblock was called the "Reaper's Hold" if I remember correctly.
B'yelka sulks at the back of the group. Better this time. I was not a novice being corrected at every turn. She adjust her hair and straightens her clothes. Yes, the Reaper's Hold. Sounds delightful. At least we are close to being out of this place. But, then, do I really dislike being an adventurer as much as I pretend?
"Wish It was named 'Sunshine and Rainbows'. But that probably wouldn't have the right affect on prisoners." Janos moves to the front of the group. "Ok, let's see what this place has for us next."
"Janos, before you go sticking your pretty face into any more nasty cell blocks, take this," Tibideau says, passing him the mace.
Drosil and Dantrian move to the entryway labeled "Reaper's Hold" and take a look down the hallway with their superior darkvision. Near the edge of their sight they see two more closed doors, one on the north and south sides of the hallway. Just past the doors there is a closed portcullis blocking further passage.
Janos takes the mace and slips it into his pack. He moves to the front of the small group, but waits for a signal from Drosil or Dantrian.
Drosil quietly moves back to the group. "On second thought, I think I'll take that mace after all." With that, he makes his way back to Dantrian.
Drosil makes his way quietly down the corridor, hoping to spot any danger lying in wait.
Dantrian follows alongside Drosil, allowing the fetchling to take the lead by a few feet and to pick a door.
Drosil creeps silently down the hallway, followed by the much louder shuffling steps of Dantrian at a few paces. He comes to the northern door, which is rotting and cracked open like many of the others in Harrowstone and peeks in.
This guard room is decorated similarly to the others, with a table, a few chairs, and a pair of cots, yet unlike the others, no undead or haunts lurk within. A winch is affixed to the western wall, identical to the one that opened the portcullis leading to oubliette.
Creeping across the hall, he quietly inches the southern door open enough to stick his head in and look.
This guardroom contains a single large table with two chairs astride it and a single sagging cot pushed up against the eastern wall. Several battered cabinets line the northern wall, with a few arrows and bits of chainmail lying scattered on the floor nearby, yet the most eerie sight are the three fractured skulls sitting on the table next to a heavy hammer. It looks as if someone has arranged the fragments of the skulls in some sort of pattern, as if an attempt had been made to construct a fourth skull from the broken fragments of the trio on the table. The leathery body of a long-dead dwarf, his wiry red hair and beard still strangely vibrant in death, lies slumped on the ground behind the table.
Drosil's keen burglar's eyes spot irregularities in the far wall that indicate there's probably a hidden door there. As he cracks the door open a bit further to get a better look, the three shattered skulls rattle about, then rise up and reform into three solid skulls turning towards the fetchling with empty eyes.
Initiative
Party 25
Skulls 8
???? 0
_______________________________________________
Anton:
Drosil:
B'Yelka:
Dantrian:
Tibideau:
Janos:
Skulls:
"Dantrian! More of those flying skulls!" Drosil exclaims as he moves further into the room, hoping to take one of the skulls out of combat quickly.
At the sound of Drosils alarmed call, Anton moves up beside Dantrian, looking for a target.