I take a long swig from my healing potion while the serpent is disabled, hoping to replace more blood than drains from me and then if he's still otherwise occupied I'm going to try to open him up and let his guts spill out.
That was a nasty blow, I need to focus this thing on me. Belym circles around the serpent, trying to put herself in a position where the demon can't watch both her and Conwall, while calling out at it. " Useless spawn of a powerless so-called god! I'll send you back to whatever unfortunate crevice you slithered out of, and if you're lucky, I'll leave your wings attached!"
"It's not like ter have scales on its insides, Bucky! There's a soft bit ter any critter's skull, right up through th' back of the mouth! One of us needs ter drive something through!" Sheridan sends the apophis images of restriction and choking. "Just keep us out of her belly, dear one."
The smaller, longer serpent darts along the demon's back, turning and coiling to get a grip that holds the thing's wings and puts pressure on its lengthy gullet.
Ron
Remorse drives deep into the beasts palate, and purple blood drain into the beasts mouth. In pain, the demon snaps its head to the side, and releases its jaws. you go flying, and rejoin your camp, the bad news is, without exceptional grace, you will land hard.
Iron tom
you rush over to the group, and bless Sheridan's weapon. you see the beast that was grappled with Ron until a moment ago draw breath, ready to spew forth its toxin again. What do you do?
Conwall
Belym's bonds expose the demon very well, and you are able to line up a strike to it's heart. one strike between two scales, and blood pours out of the wound, and the heart empties itself with every beat. The beast is dead, only one remains, and it is a moment from poisoning what do you do?
Belym
You bluster and talk, not distracting the serpent one whit, but it does distract you, and you don't notice the poison cloud incoming until it is too late. [oc]defy danger +con, and take -2[/ooc]
Sheridan
the serpent holds the demon well, the beasts mouth is wide open, it does not, however, restrict it enough to prevent the imminent poison breath. what do you do?
Ron twists in the air with inhuman grace, landing lightly on his feet. His legs act as coils, absorbing the energy from the fall and using it to launch himself back towards the serpent with blinding speed. For Norwhich!
The battlemaster yells as he charges, hurling spear after spear towards the creature, distracting it from his allies before the poison can erupt.
Sheridan leaps from the apophis to stab at the demon's eyes. "Ye! Dunnae! B-long! Here!"
I take the moment bought by Ron's distraction to move clear of the breath's range, putting the canyon wall between me and the serpent. When he breathes out and spends his poison I'll rush him...
The sword bends and breaks under the force of Sheridan's blow, the shattered blade digging into the serpent's eye and embedding itself in the skull.
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As Sheridan falls from the infernal snake's crown, the shattered sword explodes with
Ron & Sheridan
the both of you leap at the beast. Ron's spears providing a distraction, and Sheridan bravely leaps into the beasts mouth. your sword shatters from the strength f the blow, and shards still glowing with holy energy embed themselves into it's throat. the demon, however, is also successful at plunging one if its half-meter fangs into you , the serpent lets you fall from its jaws before turning and slithering away, it is retreating! What do you do?
Belym
Conwall
you take cover, but the poison cloud doesn't come. instead, you hear shouting, and peak out to see the demon running (Slithering) away. What do you do?
Tom
Your enchantment takes, and you see sheridan leap into the beasts mouth. it seems to wound the demon badly, because it ejects sheridan before retreating, its wings unfurling as it prepares to take off. what do you do?
You're not going anywhere!
Ron flings his spear at the retreating beast, furious at its cowardice.
" Nicely done, Conwall" Belym calls as the first serpent falls. Turning, she spots the second one trying to leave, and launches a boulder after it .
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When Sheridan hits the ground she feels as though she passes through the surface of the earth as if it were water. Everything is pitch black, and the distant, hungry cries of Aboleths cause Sheridan to turn rapidly in the water searching for their source.
Sheridan is not alone in the waters. She can't see them, but all of her clan, those that she killed and devoured to survive in the bleak brine of her home, turn and grope in the dark along with her. Generations of Merfolk follow Sheridan as she descends to the black gates of the afterlife, a solid black sheet of obsidian in the floor of the void.
Along that great expanse of stone, a crack forms, widening to allow a greater blackness to spill out of the depths. The cries of the Aboleths rise to a horrific crescendo, as the Merfolk are picked out of the waters by massive tentacles.
On the surface, black lines spiderweb out from the massive wound in Sheridan's chest. In moments, her flesh begins to sag and melt, leaving steaming, blackened bones.
Sheridan's sword shatters as a shockwave plunges the sword even deeper, and gives a visible ripple from the spell breaking.
The beast retaliates with cold fury and poisonous breath, Tom is once again too late to save a life but will make the distraction count. He leaps into the creature still low to the ground attempting to grab ahold of its wing and keep it too hobbled to retreat.
Ron
your spear catches the beast in the back, badly wounding to beast. remorse returns to you, buyt you don't even notice, as you watch Sheridan melt away. the beast is still active and retreating, despite your and Belym's efforts. what do you do?
Belym
your stone flies true, and impacts hard. the beast reels, but keeps moving. The beast is slithering out of range, what do you do?
Iron tom
Enraged by Sheridan's death, Ron drops his shield and sprints after the beast, hoping to get within range for one last attempt.
Ron flings his spear one last time with all his might, knowing the beast might already be out of range.
The snake is too far for me to reach, but if nothing else I can make sure Sheridan isn't alone when she/he dies. Mindful of the poison I speak kindly to her, not knowing if she can hear me.
Once she passes I rush to Iron Tom.
Sheridan didn't make it. The same poison is in me. Can you help?
Little.... Busy! Tom shouts while wrestling the snake's wing while Conwall tries to speak to him, Maybe stab this thing a little!?
Belym's attention is fully focused on the fleeing demon. She turns and dashes to where Roach is tied, trying to mount the giant horse and take off after the fleeing snake (and Tom).
So, that's a 7-9 on anything but Str, which is a 6-
Iron Tom
you grab the beasts wing, and hold it in range for Ron. The beast's thrashing knocks you about some . Rons strike fells the beast.
Ron
Your spear drives into the back of the creature's head, and it thrashes, unmistakably in death throes. the camp does quiet, Natria and her remaining guards getting out from under the overhang. what do you do?
Belym
You get on Roach, and are almost to Tom when the snake is struck down. It shrinks down to a gem, like the other demons you've fought. what do you do?
Ron picks up his shield and looks at the blackened husk that was Sheridan.
I'm too slow. Always too slow.
He closes his eyes and mumbles something under his breath. Finally he looks towards the group. Tom, please see to the dead. Conwall, you have the most experience with demons. What do you make of these corpses? The rest of us need to break camp.
As the demon falls, Belym slows Roach's pace. She dismounts, carefully collects the gem, and then offers Tom the saddle for the short ride back to the group. As they head back, she notes Sheridan's absence, and correlates it to the blackened heap in one area, and grows even quieter.
As Ron gives his orders, Belym heads over to TAM. I never did figure out how they talked, but I don't know what else to do. Belym finds the creature's head, and assuming it will let her, places her hands on it, while telling it what happened to Sheridan and trying to ask what it thinks should be done with the body, and what it wants to do.
Tom is panting heavily after literally wrestling a winged serpent to the ground, his face crushed against a rock breaking teeth and his nose and no measure of magic will take that bloodshot eye away for a few days. The world spins and he knows that despite his body demanding sleep he needs to press on until he can get some healing.
When Ron speaks, it spurned by Tom, See t' the dead? That's the sum of what you have t' say? By Iisac's beard, Ron, there is not many of us and we have names. While I'm not very close t' the people of this land, I at least feel empathy - and Sheridan was a g~%&@~n friend who we failed. I'll see to the dead, mocking Ron's voice, but you are sounding less like a man and more like a monarch.
Tom gathers the dead and injured and sets to bandaging wounds he can spend time on, and using magic to try to save worse injuries. Given the corruption the area, Tom makes individual pyres with some others' help in the area of his sanctuary and burns the bodies with herbs stuffed into open wounds while reading from his prayer book since he had trouble keeping track of things after the battle.
Weakly I respond to Ron. I may know something, but first, I've the got the same poison in my veins that felled Sheridan. I'd prefer to not share her fate. Is there anything anyone can do?
Ron's legs finally buckle and he collapses to his knees. The world spins around him, and he jabs Remorse into the ground to give him something solid to hold onto.
As Tom scolds him, Ron realizes he has made a grievous error. His companions are not soldiers.
He drops his head and vomits, before looking back up at the cleric.
We don't have time to grieve, Tom. Not yet. We be weakened and there could be a dozen more of those things on their way here. So see to yer rites, and when we are safe we will celebrate their lives.
As the cleric stomps off, Ron turns to Conwall. We need to hurry to Ghostmoor. I have nothing that can help us.
There is a droning wail as TAM approaches the site of Sheridan's fall. The ground vibrates with her sub bass voice. The stones ring with her grief and rage.
All of the tanks and cages crack and burst. Long, pale limbs work their way out of the holes in the nautilusk's shell. The rest of Sheridan's equipment is dumped onto the ground and many small land creatures flee into the brush.
Lighter, and still shaking the ground with rage, the massive creature tears off in the direction the snakes left.
Belym hands Conwall a small cloth packet. It doesn't smell good. " Here. Chew on this, but don't swallow it - it contains remedies for most of the common poisonous tunnel creatures on the continent, hopefully it'll help."
Tom looks at Ron with as warm an expression as he can muster with his messed up business, I understand the pressures, Ron. It's natural t' push emotion down and avoid expressing them in an effort t' better control your actions - but you lose the better part of yourself when you do. He sighs, I've seen too many men that let death lose its sting. It be the path of tyrants, Ron. You're too important t' us and t' them t' lose your way like that.
Ron drinks one of his healing potions while Tom speaks , slowly regaining his feet and tossing his last healing potion to Conwall. These seem to help, Conwall.
He then walks to Tom and whispers, Thank you. I am not yet a monster Tom, and with yer guidance, I won't become one.
Ron watches TAM mourn for a moment, and turns his face away from the group, staring over the horizon towards Norwhich.
Jericho... I've failed again.
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~~At the base of a crude altar somewhere nearby~~
Roshan cursed as she fingered the wide crack in her chakram. She tried to remind herself that Danyal would not have berated her for damage made in righteous combat, but the wrath in her gut sought release on the prisoners behind her nonetheless. She wiped the bloody ring on the robes of the brained cultist and slipped it into the back of her belt. Her efficacy in combat would be diminished by this.
Then, she turned to the sniveling cultists behind her. “You are unfortunate. I am only a recent initiate to my path, and I will not be able to bring you to sing the praises of Hebron as my master might have; however, with a little cooperation, I may be able to absolve you of your deep… deep sins.”
Slowly, and carefully, Roshan draws the small curved dagger at her waist, then takes the first cultist by his hair and eases down onto one knee. “You… you like to sacrifice children. Children are a special bounty to Hebron. They are the future. Without children, there is nothing to be civilized for.” The tip of the blade touches at the man’s collarbone and begins to draw downward, leaving a red line as the rough fabric of the robe parts. “Tell me of your black tribe, and the pain will end. Confess to me your sins, and let absolution take the pain away.”
The man spits in Roshan’s face, and the dagger sinks between his ribs. The man struggles, seeping his lifeblood. “Oh dear. That is going to take quite a confession to repair. You’re going to have to think of something quickly, I think I just nicked your lung. Confessions are terribly hard to deliver without a breath.”
The cultist coughs and sputters, a foam of blood forming in the corner of his mouth.
“No? You’re satisfied?” Pulling the blade aside, Roshan plunges her hand into the wound and squeezes the damaged lung. “I am not satisfied. I can’t be sure that your Einora is a wrathful creature, so I’m afraid I can’t let you go so quickly.”
The cultist takes a rattling breath and retches, eyes rolling.
Roshan curses again. “There I go again. See? I let personal feelings get in the way again.” Groping around in the man’s gut, Roshan pulls the man’s intestine out through the wound. She turns to the other cultist. “I’ll try to be more delicate with you.” Pulling the length of intestine up, she drapes it gently around the man’s neck like an award ribbon. As he chokes for breath and the light dies in his eyes, Roshan leans in to kiss him on the forehead and draw a small circle on his brow in his own blood.
Smiling, she turns to the remaining cultist. “You can survive this. You can walk from here with a purified spirit. Only tell me of your black tribe, and confess your personal sins. Absolution is within my power.”
I gladly take Belym's packet, following her instructions.
Thank you much. Other than my blood's capacity to drain out of my body, I'm doing pretty well. If this will stop the bleeding, I won't need to waste a healing potion.
No longer spouting blood like a fountain, I address Ron.
Sorry about that. I do actually know a bit about these serpent Asmodeans. Here's what I know...
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Natria comes forward, and places her hand on Rons shoulder Are you okay James? she asks
Meanwhile, the guards move toward their fallen man, one removing his helmet..
These demons are hunters, but there are also pretty heavy weapons. If the cult was controlling two of them, they were either devoting the entirety of their power to it, or they are incredibly powerful (strong enough to rival an archmage). Either way, with them dead, you will likely be safe-ish for the remainder of the journey, because it is very unlikely that there are more than these two.
The man give in after some pain, less than they often do. he starts off offering a few pieces of information, hoping this will save his life.
- we operate out of the ruins of a small village. we set up our altar on their town common.
- There are guards and defenses to protect from a western or northern offensive, but She is vulnerable to attack from the east.
- You are too late to save the oppressors church in Ghostmoor, but if you move quickly, you may yet recover some of the relics
Which do you push him on?
"Looks as though Einora is no creature of lies. You might have been schooled on how best to present one. Details, my lost lamb, are a dual edged blade." Roshan lifts away the palm-sized patch of skin carefully flayed off of the cultist's shoulder. A beautiful tattoo, and one worthy of preservation. She sets the skin on a bed of salt and places the cruel blade in a cup of wine.
"Confess your lie and I can staunch the flow of blood. I'm affraid without it you may very well bleed to death. -but perhaps that's the problem. Loss of blood has gotten your directions confused. From what direction is she most vulnerable, really?" Letting the salt stick to her blood-damp hand, she hovers her palm over the exposed flesh of the cultist's shoulder.
The cultists head hangs, he is bordering on tears, and fighting the urge to flinch away from your salted hand She is defended on all sides, however she fears the western forces the least. The defenses of our western border are primarily sentries and minor demons. please, I'll tell you anything, just stop! The cultist says, breaking at last You also notice a purple-red swirling gem on the floor, cracked from where it dropped from one of the cultists hands. What do you do?
Disappointed, Roshan feels the pulse in her hand react to the pitiful creature's simpering. She backhands the cultist in frustration, her iron bangle of Hebron thumping against his skull.
At her touch, the color returns to the cultist's cheeks. She's done more healing than damage, if only just. Roshan gets to her feet and pulls the wicked knife from the wine. Rather than strike out at the cultist, she holds the blade against her forearm, breathing heavily and waiting.
Then the gem catches her eye, and she settles down once more, probing the trinket with the point of her knife. "This gem, do you see it? Is this some tool of your sullied faith, or is it mere currency?" She only hopes the cowed thing hasn't been too damaged by true absolution. They get funny sometimes when they break.
It is a powerful artifact The man says The beginnings of the hellgate we were meant to plant here. The stone skips a little, and another small crack apears, like an egg hatching. What do you do?
No, Natria. He sighs. I haven't been ok for a long time.
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I tell the others what I know of these demons and then walk over to the body of the Cacadus demon. The skin and organs dissolve quickly from Asmodeans once their link to the material plane is severed, but their iron bones remain. I pick up a bone from the Cacadus demon that slew Sheridan and turn in over in my hands.
I look to Belym and say:
If you were an elf, and if Sheridan were an elf, you could take this bone and make your sword. That's what all Elven Skysteel is. The bones of an Asmodean that took Elven life. It's a threat, really. When an Asmodean sees an Elf with a sword like mine, they know that if they strike one of us down, we'll return the favor immediately. And there are more of us than there are of them.
I drop the bone to the ground.
There is exactly one sword for every single elf who has been killed by an Asmodean. Their aggression has never gone unanswered.
I walk away from the corpse.
We should move now before they can regroup and launch another attack. We'll be safe for a while.
Tom sort of gives a thumbs up to Conwall and very carefully clambers on top of a horse. This day is already been too long, I feel sick.
During the trip he tilts to the side and vomits more than once but by the time the group gets anywhere his head wound seems to have mostly calmed down - though he's still a little loopy and his face is pretty messed up.
Sliding the gem over to a stone surface, Roshan strikes at it with the butt of her knife in an attempt to destroy the infernal thing.