Bladud looks over to Haldern and Senna. "Um. Did you buy a bum scroll?"
Taking in a sudden shuddering breath, Tathlan explodes up into consciousness, then starting back out of surprise at Bladud's closeness.
After some introductions, he calms down. He seems quite weakened by his ordeal, quite tired. He encourages everyone to head for this church to have Authion raised.
Certainly. Let's head to the church
Relieved when the scroll works, Bladud introduces himself and follows along to the church. He was with an obvious limp, using his bardiche as a sort of walking cane, and his movements are often the stiff movements of a person with a worn-out, weary body, despite his obvious strength.
Along the way, he begins getting down to business ... asking questions about their trials so far. Where they've been. Who they've fought. The details about the encounter at the cave that caused so much death gets special attention.
The group is an odd procession, moving through the streets of Jol. Some look admiringly at Haldern's mount, some suspiciously at Dwim. Either way, they make their way aside as the group passes through. The temple's steeple can be obviously seen to the north, just past the great tower near the square. Around, the hustle and bustle of every day life proceeds; markets market, buyers buy, children get into varying amounts of trouble.
Used to recent strange weather, the dark clouds rapidly growing overhead are mostly unnoticed; a few spot them and put out tarps and crude parasols, but most continue with their day, though there is still a town-wide jump when the first lightning strike hits a mile or two out of the city. What captivates everyone's attention is when the clouds open up- and down falls a strange, reddish-whiteish putty. It's soft enough that it proves no danger; of those who fail to walk between the thick raindrops, they just seem sluggish and report a faint muscle ache in a variety of surprised voices. After a mere minute of red gel falling from the sky, the rain turns to common water. A downpour, but one far more predictable, even as winds pick up.
Let's see...we gotta stop by the tailor's, get that hole in the tent fixed...go to the tanner's and pick up a new wineskin...or maybe I should get smart and pick up a wand for mending things this time. The halfling woman smirks to herself, then fidgets with the coin purse at her waist, slightly disappointed at its weight. Well, maybe not this time...you'd think, researching dragons, I'd come across a hoard a little more often...
Suddenly, her train of thought is interrupted by the lightning strike and the strange red rain. That's a new one... she can't help but mutter under her breath. ...and alive this time, too? Excellent, she finishes sarcastically. Well, at least we've got an inn room to go to this time, Hog, instead of that holey old tent.
A few moments of silence pass, and she laughs out loud. You're right, bud, she adds with a pat of the strange rigid satchel at her hip. What kind of Society agents would we be if we didn't go find out where they're headed? Drawing a strange club with a sling attached to its end, she begins to follow the path of the coalescing goo droplets.
"What strange weather there is here. Fortunately, nothing to worry about"
Bladud pauses mid-step, curiously watching the strange putty hit the ground. ”Um … is it just me? Or are those globs heading towards each other?” He looks over at Haldern and Senna. ”What did the old wizard say ‘bout weird weather?”
He watches it for a few moments. "We might wanna wait to see the church until we see what this is about." He waits to see what Haldern and Senna do, but he's obviously keen on following the putty-stuff.
Not sure if this is the surprise round (in which case just ignore this) or not.
"The blobs are heading towards each other? Really?"
At that point, Haldern detects evil on the closest blob and mounts onto Jensal.
The little spots of goo head towards the largest lump within two feet, and merge. Then they do it again. And again. And again. Quickly, a small number of globs increasing in size take shape.
All of Bladud's recollection and knowledges simply scream 'what in the world is THIS!' at him.
That's, uh...what the Hells is that? Alleria continues her dash forward, surprisingly fleet of foot despite the heavy armor she wears.
A brown-haired halfling woman clutching a slingstaff appears at the edge of the square.
"Does anybody know if these things are dangerous?"
He flies into the air, readying his lance.
He then calls out in a loud voice
"Everybody keep away from these things. Get inside until we can figure out what they are!
Diplomacy? Intimidate is 10 lower
On tablet. Will move self on map soon
”INSIDE! INSIDE!” Bladud yells his agreement to the townsfolk as he rushes to the spot about fifteen feet from where the blobs seem to be converging. He mutters a series of phrases, each building on the last and becoming kind of a battle chant.
The crowd looks up in alarm at Haldern's cry and start moving towards buildings- taverns, churches, etc.
The oozes do not seem to be heading to any particular spot; they are horrifyingly spread-out and distributed.
Tathlan suddenly seems energetic. "I'll head for the top of that steeple, see what I can shoot from up there. You stay here!" He runs into the church.
Bladud pauses in his study of the amassing blobs to watch the elf run away. "Glad he's feelin' better." And it's as he's turning back to the blobs that he sees the halfling.
Surprise registers, "Holy hells in a handbasket! Alleria, is that you?!" He nods to the blobs, "Your timing is right on ... as usual."
Alleria does a double-take at seeing the half-orc greeting her, but then she breaks into a huge smile. I'm just lucky, I guess. You know, one of these days you're going to have to learn to take care of yourself. She winks broadly across the square at Bladud. So, some weather, we're having, huh?
Senna throws up a blast of quickening silver sparks.
The blobs shift and absorb into eachother, growing rapidly in size. They now stand ready to hunt for their favorite prey, meat.
Haldern uses his ride by attack to charge one of the cubes, hopefully slaying it, and then coming down between the others and some poor villagers (still 10 feet in the air)
He yells out:
"Fly, you fools. Run away and let us deal with this"
for x3
81 pts of damage into the one that I xed hopefully
Seeing the blobs coalesce, Alleria springs into action, years of training keeping her cool in the growing crisis. Rushing forward to get as clear a shot as possible, she withdraws a sling bullet from the pouch at her hand with almost impossible deftness. She loads it into her sling staff and flings it at one of the blobs, putting all the power she can muster behind the shot.
As the fight begins in ernest, something shifts in the half-orc. His bearing and demeanor change. He loses his casual swagger and flippant demeanor, and another warrior stands among the blobs … imposing, implacable, resolute. It's an aspect of Bladud that Alleria has seen before ... his Aspect of War.
”MISTRESS SENNA!” he roars, his voice commanding, ”YOU HAVE THE LOOK OF A MAGE. CAN YOU DEAL WITH A NUMBER OF THEM?”
As he yells, he fights, attacking two of the nearby blobs in a flurry of slashes. The he steps back, clearing room for the mage to do her work.
”FALL BACK AND GET AIRBORN! IN THE AIR OR ON THE ROOFS, QUICKLY!”
<— CRIT?
Haldern downs an ooze, and so does Bladud. Alleria's arrow significantly scrapes through a large part of a third cherry-shaded ooze.
Senna mutters a word and summons a writhing snake of fire to scorch four of the oozes.
All four of them pop like bubbles.
Shifting and shuddering, the oozes make their move. Two of them move north and engulf two screaming civilians who quickly go silent. A southern cube slinks away from Bladud as the other two try to slam into Jensel.
Then, with a horrible noise like wax scraping on wood, the cubes combine into still-larger versions.
for
Flight check to stay hovering at 15 ft or 5ft fly to 15 ft
Then Jensal and Haldern unload. They'd start with the small one and move to the larger one.
+1 for height advantage, +1 for haste, power attack.
Haldern
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Jensal
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Alleria rushes forward between the carts, letting another sling bullet fly toward the cube near the stairs, hoping desperately to draw it in her direction and away from the fleeing townsfolk. Over here! she shouts, despite her near-certainty that it will make no difference in the predator's path.
The warrior pauses to take in the situation, implacable eyes lingering on the growing size of the blobs. He puts his own idea to work, shifting the cadence and tone of his own war chanting as he makes a circular motion towards his feet with one hand.
Then he begins striding up into the air, each limping—but arcanically-enhanced—step carrying him as far upwards as it does forward. He ignores the plight of the remaining villagers, keenly watching the blobs as they expand.
”Master Senna. Can you hit that one” he nods to the larger of the southern blobs, ”from where you are?”
Senna nods and moves into position, raising her wand. Muttering a word, she summons two discharges of flame.
Hurt by Haldern's parting strike and Alleria's slingshot bullet, the two oozes dissolve into cherry-colored liquid, running along the cobbles like blood.
The people scatter.
The remaining glob revolves around a little, seemingly disappointed that it cannot sense any more food, then slowly drags itself towards you all.
A thundercrack attracts each of your attention- up above, the clouds suddenly roil and quake, condensing and concentrating into a tightly-wound black thundercloud. Then with a dramatic relief they expand, releasing a single colossal cherry-red gelatinous blob, dropping towards the town square at high speed, about where Bladud is standing.
Above the ooze, the sky begins to clear.
Haldern charges the remaining ooze and continues on into the air (Ride by Attack). Jensal takes a single bite as we go by (lunge)
for
for
So, 66 points of damage
Haldern disintegrates it with a single blow.
Bladud surveys the group's handiwork, giving everyone a grin that doesn't reach his imposing eyes. "SENNA!" he roars as he rushes clear of the impact area, "FIND COVER!"
From the ground, Alleria cheers at the gryphon-rider's masterful hit - but she unloads a volley of sling bullets at the falling cube anyway, just in case. She keeps behind the cart she's next to - after all, there's likely to be a mess soon.
Senna joins Alleria's barrage of bolts, summoning up a bead of fire to launch up at the cube and explodes.
These two blasts, miraculously, prove enough. The blob shudders high in the air, then explodes, showing red bundles of goo everywhere; they mix with the rain and hit the ground as mere raindrops.
High on the tower, Tathlan finishes picking off the last of the oozes from the rest of the city that he can see, and it seems elsewhere the rest have been pacified as well. For a rare moment the clouds in the immense storm above clear in a few spots and the sun shines through for a few minutes.
People hesitantly push their way out of their buildings and look around. Many see you, and applaud.
Those civilians consumed by the cubes near you were freed by your swift action before any permanent harm could be done.
Bladud watches the remains fall from the sky for a few moments, a look nearly of disappointment on his hard, otherwise emotionless features. Then, with another nod to Alleria and Senna, he begins a limping descent on his invisible walkway. By the time his foot THUNKS onto the stone stairway to the temple, the mask of authority and seriousness have melted away ... leaving the swaggering youth you'd met earlier.
"Right good fight," he says to everyone and no one, "though that's the case any time you walk away from one, am I right?"
The sounds of intermittent crossbow bolts being launched from the temple tower leads his eyes upwards, and Bladud grins. "Your elf seems to be fine." Then he kicks at a red-stained puddle, "So, do we think this weird weather is related to our quest?"
"I don't think it's related. But I suppose it might be. We're not really sure what our enemy is yet"
He turns towards Alleria.
"Glad to meet you. Nicely done killing those foul things. My name is Sir Haldern, Holy Knight of Iomedae and this is Jensal. My friends just call me Haldern"
After a few moments, Alleria emerges from behind the wagon, kneeling and running a gauntleted hand through the remaining red sludge. Heck of a thing, huh, Pig? Then she rises to see Haldern approaching.
Nicely done yourself; I saw you and your gryphon taking the fight to the air. Alleria Hawkins - Ally, she replies with a somewhat bashful smile, reaching up to shake Haldern's hand. She follows the handshake with a bow to Jensal, and tentatively approaches to stroke the feathers above his front talon.
And Bladud - been a while, huh? I didn't much fancy to see any familiar faces here. I've been doing some research on the linnorms in the area, and I'd just stopped in to resupply and have a drink at the tavern before setting out again. Looks like I've got impeccable timing, huh?
As Senna approaches, Ally shuffles from foot to foot, smiling and nodding politely - and then words burst forth. I saw your evocations - they were amazing! Can I see the rod you were using to amplify the elemental energies? I've always found the use of implements to strengthen the power of spells fascinating, and their design can vary so widely from tradition to tradition...
Suddenly, she blushes furiously at her outburst and recedes. Sorry, she adds sheepishly. It's just that magical history and theory is a passion of mine - it's the focus of my research, actually. I get a little excited sometimes.
Senna smiles and talks a little about her magic-use, and passes over her rod for inspection.
Bladud grins down at the little Pathfinder, "I'm like a damn unlucky penny. I'll always show up."
He nods along to her story. "Linnorms, huh?" He hikes his thumb at Senna and Haldern, "I'm actually just hired on to help these folks. Their crew got hit pretty hard by a linnorm just recently." He points to a dead elf resting across the back of a huge winter wolf across the square, then up at the tower where all the crossbow bolts had been launched during the blob fight. "The thing and its allies took down two elves before they could be beaten."
He grins, "I'm gonna see if I can do any better for'em." He pats her on the tiny shoulder. "Good to see ya, anyway."
With a choice between succumbing to grief and despair at the few lost from the storm, and celebrating these new heroes and their successful prevention of countless casualties, the small city of Jol jubilantly chooses the latter. Your next hour is consumed with hugs, cheers, hand-shakes and fervent entreaties to call on this and that tavern and alehouse.
Any hesitance the arch-priest might have about relinquishing his resurrection scroll is quelled by the enthusiasm of the crowd and the casualties prevented. Bladud quickly has his opportunity to resurrect Authion.
Coming down from the tower, Tathlan is separated by the crowd and taken elsewhere to be praised and fed; he promises to meet later in the day.
Bladud, for the most part, seems to enjoy the attention. He returns hugs, handshakes, and high-fives with an uncouth, youthful exuberance. It’s not until the arch-priest hands him the scroll that his mood sours. He holds the scroll as if afraid of what might be hidden amongst its words of power.
Finally, gathering his will, he limps over to where Authion rests atop Dwin. When the wolf gives a warning growl, the half-orc sets his jaw and stairs back at the big hunter. For a few minutes they stand like this, both unwilling to back down. Finally, after no obvious cue, Bladud begins a slow approach to Authion. Dwin doesn’t stop growling—his lupine eyes following Bladud’s every move—but neither does he intervene.
Bladud re-reads the scroll one more time before finishing the missing verbal component. Wth a flash of light and power much like that which brought Tathlan back to the living, the scroll is discharged.
Authion’s sucks in a deep breath, his eyes fluttering open in a frantic attempt to regain his senses. Bladud steps back. When Authion finally seems to have his bearings, he looks around, noting Haldern, Senna, and finally Bladud … who gets a cold scowl.
He turns to Haldern and Senna, pointing at Bladud. ”He did this?” It’s really more of a statement than a question, and he looks back at the young half-orc. Whatever credit Bladud should earned by bringing the elven ranger back, it doesn’t lighten Authion’s tone or look. ”I suppose you think we’re square.”
Bladud shrugs, his usual bravado gone, ”Partly.”
Authion’s scowling eyes squeeze to little more than a glare, and he points at Bladud as his other hand subconsciously finds Dwin’s fur. ”Then little is changed.” His every word is a threat. ”If I see you again …”
Bladud nods once, and he answers in Elven. A line with the sound of some formal phrase.
Authion gives a similar but shorter response. Then he turns to Haldern and Senna. ”The dragon’s attack took a toll on me.” He rolls his stooped shoulders, looking like a man still fatigued from an injury. ”It’ll be a while before I am a strong companion. And that is what you need now.” His eyes flash briefly, reluctantly, to Bladud. ”He will fight well.”
With a final, friendly nod to his companions, he steps weakly up into Dwin’s waiting saddle, guiding the wolf away from the church and out of town. As they pass Bladud, the wolf takes a moment to give a final growl, but the edge is taken out of it.
Bladud responds with a cheeky grin. Then he turns back to Senna, Haldern, and Alleria and shrugs. ”It’s complicated … and boring. Much better to celebrate our wins before we head out, I say.”
I agree with everything Bladud said