Jathal keeps up her targeting the Skeletons with blunt arrows.
"Get the leader!" She calls. "I'll keep the bones off you."
Zalindra moves forward to shoot at Green.
Rhona now closer leads with her shield until she shifts bringing her axe up from a low angle and up to strike the undead creature clutching one of her saviours!
While the abomination is busy dodging Rhona's axe, Cecilia attempted to once again drive her rapier into the undead monster's torso
But she failed. It would seem that the twisted corpse was both faster and more agile than it appeared. Jumping back, the bard looked to the dwarf.
"Get behind it, Miss Copperhair!" Cecilia calls out, darting left and right as she tries to keep the monster's attention focused entirely on herself. "We'll skewer this evildoer from both sides!
The changeling steps further into the room and tries this bow thing again...
If the situation were less dire, she would have pouted. As is, she settles for hissing and rolling her shoulder with a wince.
Desperate to pull his weight and hit someone Morgrym charged past friends towards the closest foe still standing.
Lord Rivenroar: HP 18+10/26; AC/T/FF 15/11/14; Fort/Ref/Will +3/+2/+5; CMD 15 vs Feint DC 16
Human Skeleton (red): HP 3/4; AC/T/FF 17/12/15; Fort/Ref/Will +0/+2/+2; CMD 14 vs Feint DC 11
Zalindra nicks the side of the mossy skeleton’s jaw while Jathal’s arrow narrowly misses the red stained archer.
Morgrym charges at the red skeleton but it dodges his hammer blow. With his target blocked by the dwarf's frame, Aelion switches up and sends an arrow through the mossy skeleton's chest, finally shattering the undead warrior for good.
The last remaining skeleton drops its bow and rakes its fingers futilely across Morgrym's armour.
Upon the dais, Cecilia darts around Lord Rivenroar, attempting to outmanoeuvre the old Lord. Unfortunately, the former nobleman is indeed an agile foe, and he reaches out, suddenly, snatching the bard by her throat.
As he pulls her in close, his boney fingers digging into her neck and compressing her airway, Cecilia's vision fades to black. Her body quickly goes limp, and falls to the floor with a sickening thud .
Aelion felt the presence of Death.
Not the undead - no, though those had their own distinctive taint. What he felt was the presence of the reaper - or, perhaps, the sudden absence of a life that had shone brightly.
He turned in time to see Cecilia fall, and cursed his own reluctance to engage with the main enemy and steal the glory of its destruction from the bard. This Lord Rivenroar was obviously more dangerous than they had given it credit for. They should probably have all focused their efforts on it, first.
Well, Cecilia shouldn't have to fall in vain.
"Focus on the leader!" he cried, taking aim to do just that.
Rhona growls and strikes at the undead monster with all the force she could muster.
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Zalindra moves to Cecilia to see if she can help, but noting that she is not breathing, she keeps moving to get some distance from her killer, then turns around and shoots at him...
... unfortunately missing.
Eyes widening as Cecilia falls, Dayana gasps. She hurriedly nocks an arrow to the bowstring and draws it back...
Cursing colorfully, she takes a step away.
Jathal drops her bow, drawing her curve blade and studying the undead lord intently. His foul existence will end here.
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Ever since she was a little girl, Cecilia Hawthorne had loved stories.
Stories of courageous dragonslayers, stories of powerful wizards holding back the forces of darkness. Brave heroes, champions of justice, loyal servants of the people. The Diamond League had been her idols, a shining example of what all humans should aspire to be. And when she found out her own father had fought in the war against the Red Hand, Cecilia could only ask herself one question.
If my father can be a great hero, why can't I?
For years she had trained, expanding her knowledge, combat skills, and magic. Not once did Cecilia consider the possibility of failure. She knew she was destined for greatness. She knew that her life would be a grand adventure. The bards would surely be telling tales of her heroics for centuries to come!
And then Brindol had been attacked. Houses were burnt to the ground, innocent people were slaughtered, a horde of monsters descending upon the town. Despite all her skill with a whip Cecilia could not fight them alone. Reality was so very different to the songs and stories. On that day the bard's belief in that grand destiny of hers had wavered.
Despite her doubts Cecilia had fought on. After all, she had a team of trustworthy companions to lead, an evil foe to strike down, and a daring rescue to undertake. And as she battled her way through goblins and undead, the bard's conviction was slowly but surely renewed. Evil had struck a frightful blow, but the forces of good would still prevail. This could still be her story!
But as the desecrated remains of Lord Rivenroar seized her by the throat, Cecilia had a sudden realisation.
Sometimes heroes don't save the day.
CRACK
Sometimes they don't even survive.
SNAP
Sometimes you're just a woman holding a rapier, playing a part you were never meant to play.
THUD
.....
....
...
..
Cecilia was dead before she even hit the ground.
Morgrym's mouth opens in horror as Cecilia is felled in one hit. He aches to rush to Rhona's aid, despite whatever tactical advice the others are saying.
Ignoring the now disarmed skeleton behind him he rushes forward, desperately trying to ward off the foul thing's next lethal blow.
Lord Rivenroar: HP 7/26; AC/T/FF 15/11/14; Fort/Ref/Will +3/+2/+5; CMD 15 vs Feint DC 16
Human Skeleton (red): HP 3/4; AC/T/FF 17/12/15; Fort/Ref/Will +0/+2/+2; CMD 14 vs Feint DC 11
As Cecilia’s lifeless body hits the ground, the remaining party members sense a chill on the already cold crypt air. The bard’s dancing lights vanish immediately, leaving only the light from Morgrym’s glowing runes, throwing Rivenroar’s shadow across the northern wall of the tomb.
Aelion quickly redirects his focus, and sends an arrow into his companion’s killer. Growling with newly kindled rage, Rhona slams Hew down into the undead lord’s chest, staggering her foe as he attempts to slam his fist into her side.
Turning toward Rivenroar, Morgrym shudders as he realises the truth about the ancient lord. The flesh of his corpse was rotten and his bony eye sockets glowed with red light. Lord Rivenroar had transformed himself into a Wight, a putrid servant of Vecna.
He charges up to aid his dwarven companion, the red skeleton raking his back in a futile attempt to stop him as he moves. The skeleton follows, leaping at the dwarf’s back but Morgrym again shakes it loose.
Rhona growls and roars as she brings her Axe up
and whips it back in seeking to cleave more into the disgusting creature before her.
With cold determination Jathal steps into combat and swings her curve blade at the damned thing. Moving so she is flanking with Rhona.
After taking a quick second to roll her aching shoulder, the changeling once more attempts to draw back the bowstring and successfully shoot at a target...
The arrow flies in Lord Rivenroar's direction.
Aelion had a clear shot now, and he took it!
"For our fallen, and all those you've had killed," he breathed, loosing two shots in quick succession.
Zalindra tries again.
Morgrym shuffles up a little further - leaving the skeleton at his back - and with a roared hymn brings him hammer down towards Rivenroar.
His fury his undoing - in his anger he forgets his discipline, and the blow is easily avoidable.
Dayana takes a moment to centre herself, and it pays off. Her arrow finally finds its mark, piercing Rivenroar’s jaw and embedding itself in his ugly skull.
Aelion follows with a flurry of his own arrows, dropping the red skeleton and the evil wight within seconds of each other.
Rivenroar’s glowing eyes fade, and his horrific visage begins to crumble. Soon nothing remains of the once powerful lord but ash.
The rest of the party breath a sigh of relief, the true threat beneath the old castle defeated.
Rhona growls and heads over to her fallen friend and slips her shield and axe together as she then begins to move her.
Cecilia Hawthorne: HP 26/26; AC/T/FF 19/11/18; Fort/Ref/Will +3/+2/+5; CMD 15 vs Feint DC 16
The party stands for a moment in stunned silence. Morgrym clears his throat to say something... but second guessing himself, he catches himself and holds his tongue. Rhona bends down and places her hand on Cecilia, preparing to move her body. Then... Cecilia’s eyes snap open suddenly.
A cool red glow sparks behind the bard's lifeless pupils. Her hand jerks out and she wraps her icy fingers around the hilt of her rapier once more. She slams the pommel against her former companion's side, a dull clang ringing out and alerting the others to the scuffle.
The bard's once bright eyes narrow and her face contorts itself into a wicked scowl as lets out a blood-curdling, crackling scream from her ragged throat.
Zalindra switches targets, gunning for her former teammate, turned into something foul.
Seeing her former comrade rise as undead causes Jathal to hiss a curse. She swings hard at the thing that was once a teammate. Wondering if the same fate awaited them all in this blighted tomb?
.
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"No!" Aelion cried, aghast. Was their noble companion to spend eternity locked into the taint of undeath?
Only they could grant her the rest she deserved.
"Be at peace, Cecilia, valiant companion," he breathed as his arrows took flight.
Morgrym curses himself as - prompted by Cecilia's blasphemous resurrection - stories from his novitiate finally struggle to the surface of his mind.
Hammer in hand he closes, doing his best to restore his companion to the peace of death, before she can escape and spend centuries in unholy suffering.
Rhona hops back and uses her cestus to lead a powerful strike as her other hand goes to bring up her shield.
The reanimated corpse of their once valiant companion is swiftly cut down under a hail of arrows. The group sighs as the fight is finally finished. The bodies of each wight draped around the base of the Lord's thrown where they fell.
Zalindra goes over to loot the bodies, as soon as she is *sure* they are dead.
As Zalindra she moves to search her fallen foes, her eyes are drawn to the ruby studded crown hanging from the corner of Rivenroar's throne.
Mounted on a stand behind the dias, a brilliant chain shirt glimmers beneath centuries of dust.
As she examines the body of Rivenroar himself, she finds two bags tied around his waist. One, a simple velvet lined coin pouch contains 60 golden coins bearing the portraits of various Rhestilorian kings.
The Lord's other bag is of more ornately designed embossed leather. It bears the sigil of a black sun, wreathed in flames. Within the modest bag, Zalindra is surprised to find a trove of items seemingly too large to have fit there. An arcane scroll, a large bottle of amber liquid, and a smaller vial, similar to the cure potions recovered earlier.
"Watcha Find Z?" She asks looking about for something to make a makeshift litter to get Cecilia outta there.
Dayana reslings the longbow over her chest, hanging back and crossing her arms over her chest. "That was..." She sighs and shakes her head. "Horrible."
Jathal keeps an eye out for more trouble, sure it would soon arrive in this rotten hole. "Should just burn the dead!" She grumbles. "Why give cultists and Necromancers a well stocked playground?"
Zalindra shows everyone what she has found, and asks if anyone can tell if any of it is magical.
Aelion nodded reluctantly at Jathal's logic. "I don't know if the dead can rise yet again once the evil magic that raises them has been driven from them, but there's no reason to take chances with such vile things. Let us, at the very least, take Cecilia out and give her a proper pyre."
He shook his head at Zalindra; magic was not his specialty. Instead he helped Jathal scrounge for litter materials.
If no one can detect magic, Zalindra shrugs and gathers everything up, seeing how much the leather bag can hold. That at least has to be magical... otherwise how could all of these other things fit?
She wraps the crown and dusts off the chain shirt before packing them up, taking the time to see if she can estimate what the crown would be worth.
Morgrym stows his shield and hammer, and kneels by Cecilia.
Carefully he closes her eyes, removes her loose items, rests the symbol of his faith upon her face, and gently lifts her as one might a sleeping child.
In a low, sad voice he speaks the grating tongue of dwarves "Κάποιος θα πρέπει να πάρει τα εργαλεία και τα τιμαλφή της, ώστε να μπορέσουμε να τα επιστρέψουμε στην οικογένειά της. Η ίδια η Cecilia πρέπει να δούμε να θαμμένος, σύντομα, στο ιερό έδαφος. Η ιστορία της πρέπει να ειπωθεί, έτσι ώστε να μπορεί να τιμηθεί ως ένας που πέθανε για να σταματήσει το Evil."
Someone will need to take her gear and valuables, so that we can return them to her family. Cecilia herself we must see buried, soon, on holy ground. Her story must be told, so that she can be honored as one who died to stop Evil.
As he starts to walk off, content to carry his once companion, he adds another comment in a voice far more uncertain than before.
"Αισθάνομαι ότι ως μία από τις κορυφαίες φυλές, θα πρέπει να επιστρέψει στον ήλιο."
I feel that as one of the topside races, she should be returned to the sun.
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Dayana can cast Detect Magic on the items Zalindra looted.
Rhona looks at Morgrym and nods. Before she speaks to him.
""Νομίζω ότι θέλουν να την κρεμάσουν; Ακόμα νομίζω ότι ένας δείκτης θα είναι ακόμα ωραίος, ίσως κοντά σε ένα δέντρο;"She says as she hen looks up to tell the others about what Morgrym wishes.
Morgrym's face takes on an appalled cast at Rhona's suggestion, but after a moment he sighs and nods regretfully.
Aelion placed a hand on Morgrym's shoulder. "Your wishes are honorable, and a credit to you. But Cecilia would never want to wander the earth as an undead abomination, as might happen again if we bury her near here. There is no holy ground here, in this accursed place, and we are days from Brindol. This is the best way to honor her wishes, and ensure her final peace." He glanced at Rhona expectantly, hoping she'd translate the gist of his words.
Rhona translates the speech back to Morgrym knowing that cremation wasn't bad, the body would still return to the earth in its own way and bring forth new life.
"He has a point with her gear we should see to it it goes to her family."
Morgrym sighs again. He looks to Rhona, and then Aelion, and nods.
'See how we go. If necessary I can carry her back.' - the thought doesn't show on his face, but the idea of facing his god at his own judgement and explaining he kept his companion from being buried with her kin, a companion he had failed to prevent from being cursed with undeath, because he was worried he'd be tired gnaws at him.
'If I'm injured' he decides 'If I'm injured it'd probably be alright.'
Estimating the ruby studded crown to be worth about 100 GP, Zalindra places it atop the folded chain armour and into the bag.
Dayana inspects the rest of the items, noting magical aura's around the bag, scroll and small vial in particular.
The embossed leather bag emits a moderate Conjuration aura.
This is a Bag of Holding, which opens into a nondimensional space so that its internal volume extends beyond its external form. It can carry up to 250 lbs with a maximum volume of 30 cubic feet, but will never appear any larger than 2 feet square or weigh more than 15 lbs.
The scroll contains three sections, the first of which emit faint auras of Illusion and Divination magics.
The third section of this scroll emits a faint aura of Transmutation magic.
Part one of this scroll is inscribed with the Comprehend Languages spell, while part two describes the incantations required to cast Silent Image.
The final verse of this arcane scroll contains the instructions to reproduce the results of casting a Darkvision spell.
The small vial emits a faint aura of Conjuration.
This vial contains a potion of Cure Light Wounds.
Morgrym, arms full, does his best to talk in the common tongue - desperately he snatches at phrases practised in more peaceful times.
"How long until nightfall?" he asks, voice heavy with accent as he struggles with the different grammar without the age of his dictionary. "Brindol, can you show me the way to?" He nods at the destroyed noble's corpse, and then the door "What do you want?"
"Τι έχουμε αφήσει να κάνουμε σε αυτό το καταδικασμένο μέρος; Έχουμε καταλάβει το κακό; Δεν έχω καμία επιθυμία να μείνω εδώ μια στιγμή περισσότερο από όσο πρέπει." he finally says, exasperated.
[ooc]I figure Dwarves - especially deep dwarves - are pretty stoic. Exasperation in this case being a cover for some pretty serious mixed emotions - devestation (loss of a friend), shock (fought undead, almost died earlier, kidnapped) and triumph (have actually stopped a major piece of evil in the form of a 'lich king')
"I don't know what that is..."
"Bit of a complicated pickle, this one, but, this page is for a comprehend languages spell, this page is for a silent image spell, and this one is for a darkvision spell."
"Conjuration, again, but I couldn't tell you exactly what it is. Probably another healing potion... probably. But, then, it might not be."