Abby surveys the battlefield and sincerely wants to go to Jarha's aid -- but he is just a little too far away. So instead, she moves to flank the wyvern at Segang's back, to prevent it from stopping the barbarian from coming to the healer's aid.
Running across the sand, the tiefling draws the mithral rapier Vencarlo passed down to her and lashes out at the scaly beast!
Realizing that even if he reduces himself the wyvern could just grab him again, and having faith in Segang's ability to damage the creature, Jarha targets the wyvern that Seren already damaged with electricity, accepting another point of burn. His body lashes out with kinetic force even as he remains trapped in the wyvern's talons (Jarha is now at the greater elemental overflow stage):
Jarha then gathers the kinetic forces around him for use in his next attack.
Melianthe gives the wyvern holding Jarha the Misfortune Hex.
Segang attacks the creature holding Jarha. If it drops his iterative attack will be against the forked tail.
Melianthe attempts to hex the wyvern holding Jarha but the magic does not stick.
Jarha blasts one of the distant wyverns with a brilliant bolt of electricity, releasing a thunderous crack. After the momentary flash fades, you see the smoking wyvern crash to the ground.
Segang lays into his target with two strong swings of the scythe. The vicious weapon leaves horrible, jagged wounds. A second wyvern falls, bleeding out into the sand. Jarha feels the wyrm's jaws slacken.
The third wyvern dives and flies away over the ridgeline to the north. With only the forked-tongue wyvern remaining, the Boneslayers turn their bows against it. The rain of arrows fails to penetrate the wyrm's purple scales.
;
;
;
;
The wyvern roars, belching a cone of fire and noxious fumes over Segang, Jarha and Ahalak.
Seren moves the shadow-magic thundercloud to attack the fork-tailed wyvern.
Absinthe moves to flank with Segang, driving her rapier deep into the beast's flank.
Yes
Seren keeps the semi real cloud on the wyvern and then shoots magic missiles at it as well.
Segang fails his reflex save and take full damage plus seems to be blinded! As a consolation he has two points of fire resistance. He turns and attacks the forlked-tail despite being blinded.
Jarha slips out of the talons and easily dodges to the side to avoid the direct firey blast. He then targets the forked-tail wyvern with an electric blast and then moves to spread out.
"Unless you get flying right now," Abby casually tells the drake, "I expect you shall make a most fetching handbag."
Again, the mithral rapier lashes out.
Gritting her teeth, Melianthe targets the same wyvern again.
Jarha blasts the stunned wyvern with another charged bolt, searing a great hole into its scales. Segang cuts it with a lucky blinded backswing, then Seren and Absinthe finish it off. The beast collapses into the sand with a breathy death rattle.
Hargev and the other Boneslayers ride over. They eye the corpses of your three slain wyverns with admiration. "Your battle prowess is impressive. I am happy you are friends of the Skoan-Quah and not our foes!" Hargev says.
Seren turns in a huff, headed back to the safety of his/horse (we ditched the carriage, yeah?)
"Barbaric place."
Jarha looks at the slain beasts with quiet satisfaction and responds to Hargev, "We too are glad to be your friends."
Abby wipes her blade on the dead wyvern and sheathes it.
"Indeed. So! How much of these foul beasts can be put to the good use of the Skoan-Quah? Drake-scale armour, perhaps?"
Segang regards the forked tail. [/b]I wonder why they attacked. Likely they are territorial. Lets see what's in the gullet of this one.[/b] He rolls the creature onto its back and cuts in so as to not ruin the skin should it be wanted.
Melianthe alights on the ground, grimacing. "I'm sure I would have done something to the wyverns eventually," she quips.
"Is it common for wyverns to be in packs like this in the Storval Plateau? I thought they were more solitary," she says, watching Segang butcher the beast. "Hargev, we thank you for your friendship as well."
Segang bleeds from a number of shallow slashes that more match his own weapon than tooth or claw from the flying threats. As his rage drops he looks fatigued for a minute or two. I could use some minor healing I think he notes.
"That's good thinking to look inside the wyverns, Segang. If I had a blade I would do so with the others. Since I don't I will keep watch until we are ready to continue."
Jarha slowly walks the perimeter of the group, watching both the skies and ground.
"Probably riled up by the sandstorm," Hargev nods at Melianthe's query. "They are known to form groups, especially under the leadership of a powerful alpha." He gestures to the fork-tailed wyvern.
"Solitary wyverns are not particularly strong, but a pack of them is a valid threat. Take their tail stingers as trophies and it will earn you respect among our people."
"How much healing, Segang?" says Melianthe, pulling out a wand.
She nudges Absinthe. "Well go on, I'm a terrible tail-chopper," she says with a smirk.
"Rapiers are designed for stabbing, dear, not chopping," Abby replies - while lightly poking Melianthe's ribs with her tail. "This calls for a different kind of edge... Can I borrow a shortsword or a bone saw from anyobe?"
"They all look similarly blood thirsty to me," says Melianthe, completely oblivious to weaponry as usual. "Perhaps a large pair of shears?"
"No, no, that would take too much strength, see?" Abby says, mimicking the motions of a shear in an effort to explain. "With shears, you would need to exert strength to cut through the limb in one go, but your strength is divided over two blades by the cutting motion. With a single edge, you can exert a sawing motion, creating a single place of weakness upon which you can focus your full strength."
Jarha listens to Melianthe and Absinthe going back and forth and then points at the closest stinger, directing telekinetic pulling force to rip it off, commenting "I wonder if I can just pull it off."
"Yes, but with sufficient length and leverage..." says Melianthe, beginning to sketch out a giant pair of siege scissors in her mind, then stands agape at the Garundi's show of telekinetic strength. "Jarha, don't tear it to shreds--it may require a precise cut! Oh dear, beware the woman who receives flowers from this man."
I seem to have just the tool - A two handed chopper. Segang says as he works to complete the deeds.
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Seren perks her head up, "Better to use the tool than to be the tool."
While Jarha, Absinthe and Melianthe talk and try at various methods, Segang makes short work of the task with his scythe. The wyvern stingers are collected in a sack and you continue on your way. The wind at your back continues to intensify as the storm nears. No rain actually falls, but the wind gusts whip up sheets of sand that scour the skin and get into every nook and cranny. The inescapable sand gums up your eyes and grits the teeth. The visibility drops to nearly nothing, as bad as a thick Korvosa fog, forcing you to stop. The Boneslayers find you modest shelter in the ravine, but it proves a minor comfort.
The sandstorm finally passes an hour or two later, and the skies almost immediately return to their clear blue. The storm becomes a hazy, brown smudge against the western horizon and you follow it towards the afternoon sun.
In the late afternoon, while crossing a wide, flat expanse of cracked clay, you spot something jutting from the landscape ahead. As you near, you find it to be some kind of twisted shrine: the rotting head of a Shoanti man mounted on a sharp wooden pole, the other end of which has been jammed into a cleft between two rocks so that the head hangs out much like a flag on the side of a building. Bright red crossbow bolts have been driven into each of the head’s eyes.
Hargev swears a dark oath and the other Boneslayers look grim as they scan the horizons.
What do you know of this Hargev? Segang asks.
Without saying a word, Absinthe draws her mithral rapier and her light mace, handing the latter off to her tail.
In preparation for possible battle, Jarha goes invisible and looks for some way to use it to the group's advantage.
Seren, bored with the conversation about how to cut off wyvern tails is alert and scanning the horizon as they stumble across this intriguingly macabre display.
Melianthe doesn't see a blessed thing--too much sun in her eyes. She goes invisible as well, and places a Ward Hex on Absinthe.
"Do not worry, this has been here for some time," Hargev explains as you assume combat ready stances.
"The Cinderlander," Hargev continues, making a sign as if to ward against evil spirits. "They say he is a devil tshamek, but I believe him to be an unquiet ghost, a wandering spirit of wrath. I've heard he was a Korvosan general who stalks these lands and will continue to slay Shoanti until the number he kills equals the number of family and friends the Shoanti took from him."
"He has stalked stalked the Cinderlands for many years. He never attacks large groups but targets only lone hunters, using a strange screaming crossbow. The two crossbow bolts in the eyes is his mark." The Boneslayer moves up to the twisted totem, examining it closely and saying a prayer. "By doing this, his victims are robbed of the ability to find their way to their afterlife."
”There are groups on both sides of us. Don’t look. Just be advised. “ Seren says quietly to the others.
Louder and to the group, “Should we honor this murdered warrior somehow? Funeral rites of some sort?”
Given the apparent lack of imminent combat and Seren's warning, Jarha becomes visible, assuming that these are the local Shoanti and that he would be more threatening to them if invisible.
Hargev nods grimly. "We will put what remains into the flames. The spirit will be freed to find another life." He and the other Boneslayers approach the totem, chanting prayers and carefully collecting the gruesome remains.
Nalmid makes a cursory scan of the horizon after Seren's warning. "Sklar-Quah riders. We are not far from Flameford," she says.
I see them too Seren. There was one group before but now there are two. I wonder if they are together or from different factions.
Melianthe stays invisible for now. "How careful do we need to be?" Her voice emanates from the air.
Nalmid shrugs. "That depends on who they are and what intentions they hold. If they are just keeping watch as we pass through, then I expect no trouble. If they are feeling more aggressive..."
"Paying respects to their murdered kin should gain us some peace."
The distant riders keep sight of you as you continue into dusk, then they disappear from view. Hargev leads you to a collection of granite mounds. Within, you find a small protected cove to set up camp. By the signs of old fire circles, you can tell this place is a popular spot.
"We will reach the Acropolis of the Thrallkeepers tomorrow," Hargev explains as you prepare for the night.
I will take first watch. My vision is keen but I have no non-magical ability to see in darkness.
"You have that bug-helmet," Abby corrects the barbarian.
"I'll take last watch."
"Perhaps I can aid Melianthe or Seren during a watch. I cannot see in the dark, but it may nonetheless be helpful to have a second person awake."
"While it is incredibly magnanimous of our warriors to volunteer for the not middle watches, we casters require uninterrupted rest so you either take a middle watch or there will only be 2 watches, first and last." Seren is still in a foul mood and is obviously struggling with "roughing it."
She heads to bed.
"I'd rather be awake at night, and when this whole business is done, I'm relishing returning to a nocturnal existence. Although I think I'll still be sweeter than Lady Seren," she concludes with a grin.
"In other words, first watch and then let me sleep a bit when that giant burning ball appears. Jarha, you can take some of the first bit as well if you'd like."
"It would be my pleasure to join you in first watch."
You set watches with the Boneslayers filling the gaps so that your spellcasters can get a full rest. The night passes almost too quietly, as if the nocturnal desert animals wait and watch. Still, nothing disrupts the camp. Hours later, the dawn comes just as silently, heralded only by a dry wind.
You break camp and continue on, crossing the last several miles of desert and approaching the foot of the Wyvern Mountains, which stretch across the western horizon. Hargev points as the Acropolis comes into view: set atop a low rise is a partially collapsed tower bearing the mark of the seven-pointed star. You take the worn path that circles the hillock as it climbs to the tower ruin. As you reach the summit you see, just to the side of the Sihedron, a pair of 20-foot-wide stone doors stand ajar. Beyond them, a dusty flight of stairs leads down into darkness.