"Inheritor, your servant once more enters the fray. Heal his wounds so that he me vanquish this evil in your name." Sir Bastion says as he reaches for his wounds.
"Come friends, we have fought abrikandilu before and we will slay them again."
Then he steps forward to swing at the abrikandilu demon.
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On Going Effect: Life Link (Paritosh); Sanctify Corpse on 2 corpes, 24hrs; -1 Chr checks;
Lirrathan swings at the blinded tiefling between himself and Arc, hoping that he can finish it off and move in to the other creatures. If he can manage to drop the enemy, he can move into its space and be that much closer.
Lirrathan manages to solve the blinded tieflings vision problem permanently.
The demons roar furiously and try to destroy Bastion.
The barage of attacks from the demons, drop Sir Bastion to the floor.
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On Going Effect: Life Link (Paritosh); Sanctify Corpse on 2 corpes, 24hrs; -1 Chr checks;
Paritosh charges the injured demon:
Arc fires Magic Missiles at the most wounded of the demons and then moves towards the doorway.
Lirrathan steps in a little closer toward one of the things, keeping it between himself and the other one. He swings wildly with both weapons, but his swings are just that, wild. As such, he starts to get angry, "C'mon you right red bastards, where do you get off picking on the big dumb human like that."
Jokum turns his head to look for any response from Rocinian's servant at the words from the angry two fangs.
Lirrathan's wild swing does him no good and the creatures leer at him as they swing away, one at Lirrathan, the other advancing on Arc.
Sir Bastion continues to lay on the ground, with Jokum guarding over his body.
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On Going Effect: Life Link (Paritosh); Sanctify Corpse on 2 corpes, 24hrs; -1 Chr checks;
I will continue to swing away!
Arc steps back 5 feet and magic missiles the enemy that is not attacking him. He then uses his shift ability to teleport 5' into the other room where he does not move and is quite. Perhaps the creature will not know where he went.
Between the combined strikes and Arc's magic, the abrikandilu falls to the ground, drool running freely from its mouth.
Lirrathan easily shakes off the disturbing effect that accompanied its hits. As the first one drops, he turns to the other that looks to be making its way to the door, "Where you going, gruesome? We aint' done playing yet." But moving around to cut it off, results in him doing nothing more than prodding at the thing with his sword.
Cornered now, the beast continues to attack Lirrathan.
But the glancing blow barely touches the elf.
Arc comes back into the room and casts acid at the demon.
As the flurry of attacks result in nothing more than a minor scratch, Lirrathan smiles wickedly. "Now it's my turn ass-face.". Despite his cockiness, his weapons are very hard-pressed to find their mark, and Lirrathan's ire grows
The demon screeches in pain and shrinks in pain, throwing its hands up in defense but is cut down finally by the group.
You hear some movement to the northeast but nothing seems to be an alarm.
Arc moves to the Paladin and checks his wounds. I have no healing myself. Who can heal this man? He is stable and not bleeding.
"Not me I'm afraid."
As you discuss your current predicament, you hear the faint sound of hoofbeat outside. The sound comes to a halt a moment after you notice it, and a deep voice, muffled by the walls, exclaims: "Now that is a magnificent horse, that is!". The voice gives a short Umpf, and you hear the sound of feet on the ground. "Guess the lads are here already, eh Gyda? And by the looks of those bodies they are doing fine. You stay put now, there's a good lass, I'll go have a look inside."
"Ohhhh, I believe I've just fallen in love! Gyda is it? Now where is that dog?"
Taking a defensive stance over Sir Bastion's body, Paritosh announces, "there remains strength of arms here still ye carrion latecomer. Let us see your countenance before our inevitable clash of arms!"
Arc hears the voice outside and seeks a defensive position. If you've no hostile intent announce yourself. the wizard advises.
Jokum's ears perk up at the words of White Hair and Big Hat Not To Chew, and he rapidly turns in the direction of the new voice.
With a couple of quick sharp barks, he hairs bristle up as he growls in the new direction.
"How you distinguish smells with all the butt sniffing you do is beyond me."
A small silence follows your words, as even the horses seem to notice and react to the tension. ""Carrion latecomer", now there's a clever insult..." The voice says with unmistakable indignancy and sarcasm. The voice gives a small cough and takes a more friendly and formal tone as it finishes cryptically: "My name is Åkon, and I've no hostile intent. I'm here on behalf of a request made of me by one you may know. May I enter?".
"If my companions don't object. I'd recommend you do so with your hands in plain sight."
Lirrathan, both blades still bared, grits his teeth and rolls his eyes. "Gods you guys are too damn stuffy. Hey, you! You one of them, or one of us? It's real simple, either you're here to help kill demons, or you get killed like the rest of the demon filth we been... killing." He prepares for the answer he wants, but is ready to put his weapons away if it's the other one.
The silent creak of the front door preceded Åkon's cautious reply: "I'm on your side, but I was not sent here to kill, nor to get killed." he said slowly "I'm coming in". He sounded sincere.
In enters a surprisingly tall and slender young man, especially considering his deep voice, with braided, shoulder-length, golden blonde hair, green eyes, and fair skin. He wears a dark forest green belted plaid over a chain shirt, and a pair of simple sandals. His leather belt is slim and embroidered with an intricate swirling pattern, while the larger belt buckle of burnished bronze is emblazoned with a crest you've never seen before: A swan with a 2-legged serpent in its beak. From the belt hangs a simple axe with a deadly edge, a wooden shield painted with his crest in colors; the swan in white with an orange beak and the serpent in black with green blood, and a beautiful quiver with Shelyn's holy symbol etched masterfully into its' leather. As he enters, with his hands in front of him, he eyes your fallen companion. He says nothing, letting you appraise him in silence, as he in turn evaluates you and your situation.
It's not the crest of a noble family, or if it is, it's not worth knowing about anyway.
Enter then friend. We are in dire need of healing. I hope you can provide some. If not we must retreat with our wounded comrade.
"Ok, you're in, know any healing magics?"
Lirrathan almost seems bored with the fact that it isn't an enemy, sheathing both his blades. "You weren't sent here to kill or be killed? Sorry, bud, it's one or the other. If you ain't here to kill demons, what use are you? And even if you aren't here to kill them, they sure as hell... hehe, sure as hell, get it? Didn't even plan it.. but anyways, they don't feel the same about you."