Ravana's Equipment:
Leather Lamellar Armor
A twisted mess of twigs, moss, torn cloth and bone (focus)
Waterskin
Alawhi's Equipment:
Studded Leather Barding with 50 peices of silver hidden in the seams
Empty Saddlebags
Neither she nor Alawhi carry food, blankets, or anything else not listed here. She can sometimes be seen eating human food and other times there are two ibexes grazing.
While the furor over her departure has somewhat died down, if you wish your character to know something about Ravana, then feel free to check out the spoilers. Kellids receive a +5 to Knowledge: Local. Both Kellids and Mendevians receive +5 to Knowledge: Nature. Feel free to roll or make up numbers on your own, in the safety of your own house. 8)
Knowledge: Local - 5
Knowledge: Local - 10
Knowledge: Local - 15
Knowledge: Local - 20
Knowledge: Nature - 15
Knowledge: Nature - 20
the forest, their people being steadily dispossessed by the inf lux of well-armed foreigners, found in Herne the tool of their vengeance. They hanged him from an ancient oak in the northern reaches of the forest and laid upon him the “curse of the winterthorn,” transforming him into
a stag-horned avenging spirit. Warped by the druids’ magic and his own undying hatred for them and for his faithless companions, Herne made his creators his first victims and soon forgot all but his own name, his burning malice, and the urge to hunt.
In the years that followed, Herne’s predations gave native Mendevians and southern interlopers alike a new name for fear in the chill winter night, passing down his awful curse to create a race of stag-crowned dark hunters who live amid winter wolves or great snowy owls. At his passing, these “hernes,” who bore his name, buried him at the foot of the very oak where he had his unholy rebirth. This ground is sacred to the hernes, and while their progenitor’s barrow is said to be rich in funerary treasures, travelers in the Estrovian Forest venture near Herne’s Oak only at grave peril..
Nebbin shrugs and goes about his work as the strange woman doesn't bother him.
Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to crush rocks I go...
For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres—Armasse is coming! Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden’s death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival (which takes place on 16 Arodus) is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.
Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral.
Armasse officially begins at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. The crowd gathers in Clydwell Plaza, where you are looking forward to finding a decent spot to see the Lord Hulrun give the opening speech.
Wearing his work gear and carrying his massive earth breaker, Nebbin ambles toward the plaza, looking forward to the opening speech. The young quarryman learned long ago that if he didn't bring the huge maul, everyone kept trying to force him to join the crusades, just because of his size.
Sure, it was embarassing when some people confused his leather workwear for armor, the tool for a weapon and him for a warrior, but he hoped at least some people realized he had a job that was important. He crushed the stone they used in building the city and walls, and even sometimes, maybe, threw with catapults. That was important!
He waved as he saw the pretty girl from the fruit stand, a faint blush suffusing his cheeks, but he was too focused to try to get up the nerve to talk to her right now (not that he would otherwise; she was too pretty and probably too smart for a country boy like him) -- Armasse was about to begin!
I hope Lord Hulrun tells that bit about fighting off the demons again. That's my favorite part!
He grins broadly.
A day like today, nothing bad could happen.
Ahhh, the perfect time to reach Kenabres. I wonder how today's ceremony differs from the ceremonies performed in ancient Sarkoris.
Aero will make sure to sample as much of the local cuisine as possible while awaiting Lord Hulrun's speech.
Mmmmm, this peach is delicious, what did that brown eyed girl say they were called? Drat, I knew I should have been writing these things down, I never can seem to remember...
Armed with a variety of exploration gear in an overstuffed backpack Aero will adjust his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes and settle into a spot that might generously be described as "alright" for Lord Hulrun's speech.
Ravana wakes late this morning, the steady tramp of footsteps from the crowds on the road shaking dust from the ceiling of her burrow.
Oh yeah, Armasse...I'd forgotten. Might be a good day for gathering food but might also be important for news. Important day for the southerners, maybe I'd better go...
Ravana slips into the city with the other peasants, her dirty feet and plain clothing matching those of the local farmers. She heads for the cathedral, confident that the tribesmen will not be in attendance.
Passing a brown-eyed girl at a fruit stand, she steals two peaches, dancing into the crowd before clutching hands can slow her down. Popping one into her pocket, she bites into the other, peach juice running down her chin.
Shimmying up a tree on the south side of the cathedral grounds, she'll try to stay awake despite the warm northern sun.
A day like today, nothing bad could happen.
Lucius wanders into Clydwell Plaza. After less than a week in Kenabres, he hopes that the festivals will let him get a better idea of the organizations and Crusading Companies. Then he can choose the best one to offer his services as a representative of the Prince of Law.
As he looks for a good vantage point, he already regrets not leaving his pack at the inn. He was not born to bear burdens, but already he's seen how happily Kenabres will separate new crusaders and pilgrims from their gold. Leaving his belongings in such a...slum is only an invitation to theft.
Spotting a fruit vendor, he exchanges a copper piece for a brace of peaches. He haggles for a moment, getting a third. Two go into his belt pouch, stashed for later as well as another obstacle for any pickpockets circling the crowd. He splits the third with his knife, dropping the pit to the cobblestones. Not bad, he thinks, eating slivers of fruit while looking for a place to sit.
After a moment, he realizes that any available seating has been claimed. They'd need to stand to see anything anyway. Instead, he finds a tree on the south side of the plaza, leaning against the trunk. He removes his pack and sets it down on the ground. Much better. He slips an ankle through the straps of the pack to prevent it from wandering away while he is distracted. Idly, he retrieves the second peach and waits for the festivities to begin.
Standing before the open doors of the large Cathedral, a young woman looks up with a sense of awe about herself. Having never seen the grandeur of a true cathedral before, the woman adjusts the shield across her back and starts to step forward. Clutching a piece of paper in her hand, she barely makes a few steps into the cathedral itself before she is standing next to a tall man dressed in robes of the priesthood but bulked out from the armor he wears underneath.
"Whats this? Some slip of a boy playing at a soldier? Whats yer business here, son? And it better not be the funny kind."
Looking upwards, the young woman is at a loss for words for a moment and simply holds up her paper before saying, "I'm here to join the crusade."
"Eh? A girl huh? Well my apologies lass. So, come to fight demons eh? Let me see those papers,"[b] the priest reaching out to take hold of the papers.
After a few moments of looking up and down the papers, the priest looks from them to the girl standing in front of him, [b]"Captain Miphos eh? Lucky you... Saoirse, well, follow me if you are sure you want to do this. We'll give you an Initiate room for tonight and you can dedicate yourself in the morning but fair warning girl, don't expect any special treatment here. Kenabres isn't like the fights down south, this is a war. I hope yer quick on yer feet, demons will kill a romp like you in a few seconds if they catch you."
The man keeps going on about what Saoirse could expect from Kenabres and the Worldwound for the next few moments before coming to a door and opening it to reveal a threadbare bed and little else. "Here's yer room, lass. I'll be back in the morning to show you and a few others around."
Saoirse thanks the man and steps into the room, setting down her equipment next to the bed and sits with her Acts of Iomedae until nightfall.
Just as promised, the same priest was there knocking on Saorise's door in the morning. Already dressed and prepared for the day, Saoirse finds herself among a group of twelve other recruits. Each led to a small private room that held a statue of Iomedae the Inheritor in an alcove towards the back of the room. Taking a deep breath Saoirse spoke to herself as she stepped forward, "Well... here I am. I... I um... I hope this is whats right. I've tried to follow your teachings and I know I've wandered for a time... but I'm ready to fight again."
Setting her backpack down near her, Saoirse kneels in front of the shrine and pulls her sword from its scabbard, setting it on the cold stone floor with the hilt pointed towards the statue. Taking another deep breath, Saoirse begins to recite the words that Captain Miphos taught her until she felt her throat would break from repeating it. "A base of silver and steel, my sword. A foundation of stone, that my feet may stand firm. An ancestor, my grandfather, Gellius Palelight." Saoirse takes a worn locket from around her neck and sets it around the pommel of her sword. "A wall to block the falling wind, that my words may be heard clearly. The gates of all four directions closed. From the farmlands of my home, I come forth and follow the forked road to your Kingdom. I hereby propose, thou shalt accept my soul and my fate shall be thy sword." Saoirse's right hand wraps around the blade tip of her sword, her palm indented by the sharp pressure. "I have come to answer the summons of the Holy Crusade. I hereby swear, I will be all that is good in the eternal world. I will be the disposer of evil in the eternal world. If thou accede to this will and reason, answer me."
Saoirse closes her eyes as she finishes the words of the ritual, her hand calm and steady while her heart throbs wildly, knowing that if she was not accepted her sword would be used against her. After a moment Saoirse opens one eye as nothing seems to happen. Looking up, the statue remains as it was before, along with the rest of the room. Her hand slips away from the tip of her sword as she says to herself, "Did I mess up? Did I say it wrong? Why didn't she answer? I..." Saoirse's ramblings are cut off as a knock on the door is followed by "Oi! Others need to make their dedications as well."
Saoirse gives a start as she gives one last look to her Goddess "I don't understand... but I will prove myself to you," before picking up her belongings and stepping out of the room to rejoin the large priest in the open hallway.
"Finish up girl? Good, we'll have an assignment for you soon enough. For now, its Armasse here in Kenabres. How about you go and see the city for a bit? Get familiar with it."
Saoirse takes one last look at the statue in the room and says dejectedly, "She didn't answer..."
The priest looks down at Saoirse half in bemusement and half in exasperation, "Eh? You expectin' sommin' different girl? There's thousands of would-be crusaders here, The Inheritor has more important things to do than answer the prayers of someone who just walked into the war. Still... I promise girl, Iomedae heard you. So, go and enjoy Armasse."
Stepping onto the street towards Clydwell Plaza from the direction of the cathedral, a young woman of no more than sixteen winters with black hair falling shoulder length steps into the crowd standing before the Plaza. A shield lays strapped over a stuffed backpack while the long hilt of a greatsword shoots up over her left shoulder, crossed with the bent wood and string of a shortbow and quiver of arrows. Looped around a belt at her left hip is a longsword and heavy mace of average make. A chain shirt clinks softly as she passes a young woman selling fruit. Realizing she is starving, Saoirse pulls a few coppers from her belt pouch and hands them to the girl, grabbing a few apples from the stand as she takes up a spot inside the crowd, looking up towards the plaza though she doesn't seem to be paying attention to it very much. Instead Saoirse looks around the open space, taking in the scenery of the plaza and the multitude of people she has never seen before. Seems Kenabres is a place for all types... How am I supposed to fight demons here? I don't know anyone... Heh, Captain Miphos would say to make friends.
Taking another look around, Saoirse sees a man in a hat with an overstuffed backpack and takes a chance, "Um... Hello, I'm Saoirse, have you been to Armasse before? I'm not entirely sure whats about to happen..."
It's a good day to be sellin'. the plain-but-pretty, brown-eyed, and strawberry-blonde haired woman thinks to herself. She waves at a large man—a quarryman if it's who she thinks it is—as he passes by. He doesn't stop by to say anything to her yet, but she's confident that one of her smiles will bring him over to her stand someday. Big and strong and handsome, he's probably not that interested in a plain fruit seller like me. She giggles a bit at the sight of the flag the man with the overstuffed backpack carries. Trying to keep an eye on her money, her fruit, and the dirty looking woman—who would probably be gorgeous if she would just clean up—the fruit seller gets completely distracted by a slightly off-putting man who kept haggling over two coppers worth of peaches. She finally gives in and gives a third peach for his second copper. Hmm...a new recruit it seems...and a woman. Hope she's good or learns fast. After a bit more time selling she decides to pack up and watch the speech by Lord Hulrun. As she meanders towards the south side of the plaza she notices the hulking man from earlier. Maybe I should go talk to him...I'm sure he'd have time today to enjoy the celebration together. She starts to make her way towards him when the trumpets play and Lord Hulrun begins to take the dais.
The crowd continues to gather in Clydwell Plaza quieted as the aged inquisitor Lord Hulrun takes the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He clears his throat, but just as he was about to speak, a bright light shines from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow falls huge and distorted across the cathedral’s facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion rips through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.
To the west, the fortress known as the Kite—the location of Kenabres’s wardstone—has vanished. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupts into the heavens. A moment later, a powerful roar accompanied by a welcome sight rising from the crowd—Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had until that moment been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appears, as nightmarish as the dragon is breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, grips a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity is immediately obvious: Khorramzadeh, the Storm King of the Worldwound, has come to Kenabres!
As the ground continues to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clash above. The fight was over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cuts deeply into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiral downward toward the crowd. Cries rise up as hundreds are crushed by the mighty weight descending from the sky. The fruit seller from earlier, so pretty in a plain fashion, is caught underneath the Storm King's foot as he rolls off from the dragon and stands over it. As Khorramzadeh's foot lifts, the broken and crushed form of the girl with the peaches is revealed, a look of terror and loss on her face and her hand outstretched in Nebbin's direction. Buildings rock in their foundations at the impact of the fearsome warriors.
The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness will ever forget. At that moment of terrible crashing, a titanic demon erupts at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashes into this world. The rift it creates shoots across the plaza, and this time there was no escape—it opens below your feet, angling away into darkness. Even as you fall, the dragon notices your plight. Though she sees death standing over her, she seizes this final chance to save a few more souls. After she utters a few arcane words and stretches out a bleeding talon, you feel her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remained as inexorable, and as you drift downward into the depths, the last thing you see is the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head falls, the rift above you slams shut, and the light of the world above is gone.
Between the flash of light and the thunderous crack of the explosion, Lucius's face goes pale. He's heard of festivities being kicked off with pyrotechnics or the crack of a thunderstone, but this cannot possibly have been part of the plan. As the bone-shaking noise washes over them, he drops the half of a peach that was in his hand. He clutches the pentagram around his neck with one hand, while the other drops to the book on his hip. He mutters a quiet prayer to himself - by rote, for his mind is racing much to fast to reach his tongue. This is bad. This is very bad.
While the demon and dragon clash, he can do little but watch in awe. Or shock, really. When the titans strike the ground, he becomes aware of the demons spilling into the streets. Bad. Very bad. he thinks as he continues to grips his holy items and murmur prayers to the Father of Devils.
A moment later, his mind slows enough to realize that he should be running away, seeking shelter, anything to let him survive until the crusaders retake the city. Or for the next five minutes. At all, really. Just as his head begins to turn to seek a place to run to, the ground opens up beneath him. As he drops, all he can think is Well, that settles it.
Ravana stares in shock at the giant dragon above her, unsure what she's seeing. Surely that's no animal...such beauty and grace. Why, it's not flying, it's dancing in the sky, for no wings, even those, could hold aloft a beast so HUGE! I see now how little I have known, how small my problems are. I must follow this creature. I must find what it wants from me and I must do it. No, I must give all I have to this being, all that I am. I must worship it!
As the demon and dragon land in the square, Ravana completely understands. The great dragon, it's might and beauty encompassing her entire vision, is not a beast at all, but Life itself. As the earth cracks beneath her and the tree slowly slides into the crevasse, her feet finally move. As the entire tree inverts, she runs along the trunk toward the roots above her head. Just another second and she will make it out.
The last roots give way and the giant tree picks up speed in its descent. Panic grips her heart, squeezing with mighty fingers as she feels the world slip away above her. Meeting the gaze of the dragon, as she slides down into the bowels of the earth, she sees recognition, and for the first time in her life, understanding.
In the dying light of the fissure closing above her, she stretches out her hand to two fellow creatures falling beside her, pulling the small dark man and the young girl onto the tree beside her.
Aoro drops his half eaten peach in shock as the world begins to crumble around him.
This isn't what I came for...
Thinks Aero, in between panicked breaths as he sinks into the abyss.
Nebbin rushes for the girl as chaos begins to break out, then pulls up to a stop as he sees her fate. "No! Saria!"
His eyes begin to fill with tears, his stomach churning at the sudden carnage, but before he can do anything else, the ground suddenly drops out from under him -- "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"
His stomach rushes up in his chest and he shuts his eyes tight as he waits for the impending impact -- he knows what happens to people who fall, especially with rock raining down on top to crush any remaining breaths of life.
His eyes fly open as he feels his falling momentum fall, sadly just in time to see Terendelev's fate.
Saoirse turns from the hat wearing man to look towards the front of the plaza as Lord Hulrun takes to the stage, she had heard rumors of the man on her road to Kenabres among the other gossip of the few travelers who were willing to talk to her. Still, even the description of him could not compare to the figure the aged Lord Hulrun cut in his magnificent armor. Saoirse's awestruck stare only lasts a few moments however as she feels a wave of heat wash over her whole body a moment before the column of fire and lightning split the skies open in a dark omen of horror. Mixed among the crackling energy of fire and lightning Saoirse hears the distinctive roar of a dragon and her eyes turn skyward. Hope lights across Saoirse's eyes for a moment as she see's a truly massive silver dragon take to the skies, intent on battling what Saoirse assumes is the cause of the destruction that seems to boil up around the city streets. Saoirse's hopes are dashed after only a few moments of watching the skies as she sees the truly massive creature of darkness smash into the shining dragon like some evil gods hammer.
The two titanic bodies fly over Saoirse's head and a sudden light flares from Saoirse's eyes. Filling Saoirse's vision is a terrible swirling vortex of darkness centered around the body of the Storm King as its hulking mass stands up from the crowd of crushed bodies. Saoirse reels back from the Storm King as she feels like her head is splitting open from the waves of pure malice rolling off the Storm Kings body.
Saoirse falls to her knees as she tries to cover her glowing eyes, everywhere she see's more auras of malice hatred and destruction materializing among the streets of Kenabres. A scream rips from Saoirse's throat, a high pitched "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!" as her hands move up to cover her eyes.
Not even paying attention to her surroundings, Saoirse barely notices the cobblestone street falling away from her into a gaping chasm of darkness, nor the woman who pulls her by her shield onto the trunk of a falling tree. Saoirse repeats the same words again and again as the faint glow of her eyes turns skyward again, "It wont stop... it wont stop... it wont stop," all the way down...
The ceiling and far walls of this vast cavern recede into darkness. On one side, the wall has collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble—here and there the arms or legs of victims who didn’t survive the fall protrude. As your eyes adjust to the lack of light, you notice momentary sparkles of light coming from the mound of rubble. The dim light doesn't help much to take stock of your situation, but you can hear the sounds of some other survivors—a bit worse for the wear by the sound of it. It takes a few moments to realize, but there is another sound of some sort you can't quite make out...
In the back of the cavern, a disturbing shape looms. Nearly the size of a horse, what appears to be an immense black spider crouches silent and still on the ground.
Nebbin looks around, clutching his hammer nervously, surprised to not be dead.
Am I dead? This could be hell. I didn't think I'd done anything to deserve going to hell. That rock does looks familiar. Maybe I'm just below ground? Looks like we're a couple hundred feet below the surface.
His eye is suddenly caught by the sparkles and then, worse, by the massive spider.
"Ah! A spider!"
He hefts his hammer, hoping it'll be enough to protect him in case it should attack.
"Is everyone else OK?" he calls out, realizing he's not alone.
Lucius slowly gets to his knees in dark. Much too dark down here. But he's alive, thanks to that dragon and its spell. That's something. "Asmodeus be praised."
He blinks, trying to see more clearly in the dim light. After a moment, he touches his holy symbol and speaks in the language of devils. <<Asmodeus, lend me your might. I summon implight.>>
Once the room is lit up, he spots the spider and the other survivors. "Yes, I'm alright." he says, stepping slowly away from the spider, tripping slightly over the bag still strapped round his ankle. His hands drop to the hilts of his knife and mace, anxiously waiting for the spider to make a move.
Ravana stands up, leaning against the tree trunk beside her. She sees the dark-haired man standing beside her and hears another exclaim, "A spider..." before turning to see the giant of a man off to one side. The young girl seems to be okay and as Ravana is about to check her for signs of life, her eyes land on the giant spider across the cavern.
Mentally calling upon the Great Stag, Ravana allows some of it's nature to seep into her eyes. The room around her suddenly bursts with clarity, giving her a much better idea of her surroundings.
"Odd, the spider seems made of stone."
Ravana turns to help those around her, keeping both eyes and ears focused on the periphery of the light.
"Be careful, there is something else down here with us, and it is hungry."
On further concentration the sounds seem to come from the spider's abdomen.
Sitting in the darkness of the cavern, Saoirse has her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around in a curled up position. Saoirse keeps her head down by her knees where a faint glow continues to emanate from her eyes. Anyone close by could hear her whispering "Why wont it stop... please stop."
Aero stands up, and begins beating the dust off of his hat.
"Oh, I bet these were the tunnels that were dug by the deformed children of the first crusade."
Aero, interrupted by his companions pauses for a second.
"No, I think they were called Mole-People, not Spider-People, in fac-"
Aero finally realizes what is going on and continues:
"Oh, that's what you meant by a spider."
Lucius will float his dancing lights around the cavern, to get a better look around. "The good news is, we're alive...for now. I'm Lucius. Is everyone all right? Does anyone know the a way out of here?"
"I think it's dead!" Nebbin hollers. "The spider I mean!
"Hello?" he calls out to the others. "Are you OK?"
"I think something is eating it's way out of that spider. It might be a good idea to get ready for it."
With the illumination provided by the Dancing Lights, Ravana redirects her totem spirit into her skin, making it tougher.
"I am Ravana, a druid from Mendev."
Ravana shifts her gaze back to the spider after looking down at the traumatized Saorise. It's Survival of the Fittest time and we'll see which side she comes down on shortly.
"Is everyone else ok?"
You hear three distinct voices:
"I'm...not fine. My leg...it's crushed." she says in a pained yet stoic voice, "I...think it's broken."
"Who's there? Why is it so dark in here...last I remember is the Storm King...he wasn't more than a few feet away...his whip of fire...it struck...my...face..." The man sobs uncontrollably for a few moments, "MY EYES!! I CAN'T SEE!!!! WHO WILL SEE FOR ME!!??!"
"You big baby. I'll see for you. Pull yourself together...we're in a cave that's dangerously close to the Darklands. There's five folks on the other side of this cave who look to be capable. There's another man by us...I don't know who he is..."
"You don't know who I, Horgus Gwerm, am? I am only one of the foremost scholars in the city! And to imagine that I've had to suffer this indignity. I am scraped and bruised! And my clothes!! Oh my silks...how shall I replace these? They were a gift to me by Lord Hulrun himself for distinguished service!"
"Shut up."
Lucius supposes it was too much to ask for everyone to be unscathed: they're lucky enough to be alive. And if they want to stay that way, they need to get out of here. Time to take stock of the situation, and possibly charge of it, too.
He kneels down to shoulder his pack, removing the waterskin before donning it. He takes a draught, then holds it out to Ravana. "Someone, see to the wounded."
"You, Humongus Worm, we have bigger problems than your silks. We are buried hundreds of feet under Kenabres. First, we have to get out of here, without being eaten by the relatives of that," Lucius points to the spider carcass, "Or captured by deformed, what did he say?, Mole-people. Then, we have to hope the militia has driven out the demons enough for there to still be a city above our heads, or we're now behind enemy lines. When we are no longer in mortal peril, at that point, you may worry about your silks. Is that clear?"
Without waiting to hear the 'scholar's response, if any, the sparkling scales catch his eye. He murmurs in infernal, <<Asmodeus's reach is long, and so is mine.>>
After a moments pause, he considers his own words about exactly how dire the situation is. "Is anyone not armed?"
"It's H-O-R-G-U-S G-W-E-R-M. I don't expect a simpleton like you to understand the nature of the calamity of my dress. You look positively useless anyway. You there, big man with the hammer. Make yourself useful and find out what's going on with that disgusting chewing sound coming from the spider. After you've taken care of that, come here."
"Oh, um, OK. I think it's dead, but I guess I can check."
Nebbin hoists his earth breaker and very nervously walks toward the hopefully dead spider.
Why do I have to do this? I'm no crusader.
As Nebbin obediently steps towards the spider...
It doesn't leap at him.
Instead, the abdomen bursts open and a pair of maggots flop out to the ground. The maggots are...giant...compared to normal maggots.
"AH!"
Screaming in fear and disgust, Nebbin slams his huge maul into the closest maggot, hoping it's enough to squish the thing before it can touch him.
"Help, someone!"
Five-foot step up.
Nebbin's earth breaker lives up to a new name this day, bug crusher. The maggot explodes at either end of the big hammer.
If a maggot is still moving, Lucius will try to tag it with a ray of frost.
If both have been dispatched, Lucius will grab another scale with mage hand.
The maggot flumpfs over to Nebbin and tries to bite him...
But is too slow to latch onto him.
Hearing the squelching noise of the two maggots bursting out of the dead spider shakes Saoirse out of her horror induced shock. Looking up to see the bloated bodies of two gigantic maggots has Saoirse scrabbling to her feet. Instincts kicking her forward as she draws her great sword from her back sheath and charges the maggot. Swinging her sword down like a large cleaver at the writhing body of the maggot.
Attack:
Damage:
Ravana takes a swig of water from Lucius before handing the waterskin back. Nodding her thanks, she moves eastward, gathering the blind man and then stopping beside the woman with the shattered leg.
Round 1
Ravana looks over to see Nebbin smash the first maggot. Deciding that he'll be fine, she turns her attention back to Anevia. "We're going to have to splint this leg with something. Think you can handle me picking you up and taking you over to the tree? We can use some of it's branches and bark to make a splint. Mister, you're gonna have to hang on to me when we move."
"I...let me look. No, it's not trapped...I just can't move it by myself. Thank you...I will bear the pain while you carry me." She bites her lip at this and steels her face for the upcoming ordeal. She grips her bow and you notice for the first time that there are well worn finger grooves in the grip as though she's used the weapon often.
Saoirse's sudden resoluteness pays well, for her blade slices the creature in half long-wise.
Saoirse breathes slowly as she steps back from the disgusting smell of the split and smashed maggots. Turning towards Nebbin she asks, "Are you alright... wait... it stopped! HA! It stopped!" Shifting her great sword to just her right hand, Saoirse reaches up with her left hand to touch near her eyes, looking about the gloomy cavern. "Oh.. well.. this isn't good."
By the time Aero gets his wits about him all the maggots appear to have been dealt with.
"I may not be as apt with the blade or hammer as some of you, but I can explain a little about our surroundings."
Aero dusts himself off a bit more before continuing.
"There are lots of tunnels under Kenabres, mostly from the First Crusade when Kenabres expanded quickly in all directions. Unfortunately those who fought in the first crusade did not know how to fully protect their children from the demon's taint, causing many to be born... different."
Aero pauses again, a bit uncomfortable.
"The descendants of those children live here. I doubt that have much left to share about the amazing culture that once thrived here, but clues are often found in strange places. That said we are quite deep, well over 200 feet, it would not suprize me to find an entrance to the darklands proper nearby."
Gabriel stops, proud of his education before remembering to introduce himself.
"My name is Aero Skyfall, archeologist. Although it seems like we've got bigger problems than just finding a dig site."
Hrmm. Some kind of magical resonance. If Lucius were a wizard or a scientist, he might want to start passing the scales around to see if they respond to different people differently or devise some other kind of experiment. But he isn't: he's a dogmatic intellectual.
He'll drop the first scale to see if the second has an effect other than to dampen the first.
"Yeah, I think so," replies the young man, breathing heavily -- almost to the point of hyperventilating. "Wait, what stopped?"
Torn between listening to the strange woman who just started a conversation and going to see Horgus Gwerm, who'd asked him to come over earlier, Nebbin starts edging toward the older man, responding to his voice of authority.
At Aero's words, a panicked look crosses his face.
"I don't want to go into the Darklands! We could die there! Can't we just ... find our way out? There's always a way out at the dig sites I've worked at."
Saoirse stands there listening to Aero as she pulls out a worn rag and cleans off the blade of her great sword. Nodding softly, Saoirse says, "Thanks for the warnings..." her voice cut off as she catches a glimpse of shining out of the corner of her eye. Turning towards it Saoirse sees the remaining dragon scales on the ground. Shaking her head, Saoirse whispers to herself "Why did you have to die..."
Moving towards the pile, Saoirse picks up one of the scales...
Aero will try and calm Nebbin down a bit.
"I don't think any of us want to go down into the Darklands and I doubt any of us will today either. Fate has already blessed us, Pulara's light shall help guide us to the surface."
Ravana takes Anevia to the tree and helps guide Aravashnial until his hand is touching the tree. "There were some big bugs in here, that was the squishing sound you heard.
Leaning over Anevia's leg, Ravana chants softly, "Great alkoholak, mesedez sendatu heathen honen zauriak."
She then begins stripping bark off the tree. Marking some of the branches, to be cut, she calls out for assistance. [b]"I need help splinting this leg and someone with a knife to cut off some of those branches were I've marked them."
Having done a passable job on the leg, and having no interest whatsoever in assuming control, Ravana sits back to watch the group.
"Who?" Nebbin asks Aero, a confused look crossing his face as he looks around to see who Pulara is.
He jumps as Ravana calls for help and rushes over to lend his aid. However he pauses as he arrives.
"Um, I've only got my maul. I can smash it if you want, but I don't think I can really cut them that precisely," he says, crestfallen. He blanches as he sees Anevia's leg, the color draining from his face.