"Balthus, stop!" she screams, slapping him forcefully on the back of the head.
Stubbornly ignoring the fact that Amund thinks he saw Balthus eating any of the food on that table of horror. He cannot stop the small smirk that formed when he hears Anthuria slap him rather vigorously. The smile only lasts for a moment when Amund remembers the reason she is slapping Balthus, I think I might be a horrible person
Moments later Amund feels a tap from Lord Arizian and that magical evenness settles over him again. Moving to the side to be able to strike with his longpear. Taking a calming breath Amund jabs at the Fey infront of him.
Longspear + power attack + haste = 11+11 = 21
Jetta takes a second to survey her surroundings. She glances at Balthus with pity, but does not know what to do to help him. Seeing the 'king' strike at Anthuria almost makes Jetta lose her concentration, but the sorceress seems to be handling herself, lashing back with her magic. Seeing Mairen rush to face the fey leader, the Hellknight opts to join Amund in wiping out the rest of the sprites...
Perry -> Touch of Law, Amund
Balthus -> bad things :(, Slasher attack on purple (trip, hit for 15)
Mairen -> attack on King (hit for 24)
Anthuria -> trip King (hit)
Amund -> attack red (hit for 12)
Jetta -> attack red, then brown (hit for 18, miss, hit for 19)
Blue fey -/22
Grey fey -/22
Yellow bee -/22
Orange fey -/22
Black fey -/22
White bee -/22
Pink fey -/22
Purple fey -/22
Red fey -/22
Brown fey 9/22
King of Roses 18/40, prone
Brown -> tumble to flank Anthuria, attack
King -> Acrobatics to stand without provoking, suggestion on Anthuria
Perry aids Amund again, maneuvering opposite him with a fey between and lending him evenness of spirit. With Perry's aid, Amund tears into the fey, and between his strike and Jetta's the creature falls. Meanwhile, Slasher rushes forward and tears another sprite apart, his master sitting before the feast staring.
Mairen, with righteous purpose, charges toward the King of Roses, and her sword tears through his flesh, though it seems somehow less damaging than it should have been. Though she suffers from the King's poison touch, Anthuria lashes out with an ensorcelled vine and pulls the King's feet from beneath him, leaving him on the floor before her.
You would turn my own vines against me? My own children? Arrogant upstart, the King hisses. Deftly, he hops to his feet while avoiding Mairen's attempts to stop him, smiling as the other fey dodges past Perry and attacks Anthuria from behind - but in standing, the King is too slow to reach Anthuria and aid in the attack, and she avoids the precision strike tactics the creatures have favored.
Contemptuously, the King flicks a finger toward Anthuria.
Join your friend at our feast... you hear whispered in your mind's ear - but your elven heritage and arcane training have left you too canny to fall prey to a fey's tricks.
And as you struggle against the King, you feel the chill in your blood dissipate - you've managed to throw off the effects of his poison touch as well.
|
Percival Arizian | hp 37/44; AC 18/11T/18FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
To-Hit: +10 vs. AC, 1d8+6 bludgeoning damage.
Buffs: Protection From Chaos (6 rounds), Divine Favor (6 rounds), Haste (7 rounds).
Right Hand: Heavy Mace
Left Hand: Light Shield
Free: Drop crossbow.
Move: Move North to Anthuria (blocking fey-king from her) and drawing heavy mace.
Standard: Attack with heavy mace vs. Fey-king
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (3/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 1 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining.
Slasher shook its powerful neck and the head of the fey smashed against the wall.
He leaped over plates and bowls and seemed not to care that the ranger yelled at him again.
He chomped down on the fallen fey king.
|
|
Percival Arizian | hp 37/44; AC 18/11T/18FF; +8F/+3R/+12W
To-Hit: +10 vs. AC, 1d8+6 bludgeoning damage.
Buffs: Protection From Chaos (6 rounds), Divine Favor (6 rounds), Haste (7 rounds).
"Perry, help him!"
Answering Marien's call, the priest rose up, stepping over the small-size table, and tackled Balthus, dropping him to the ground.
"Eating food presented by fey? Where are your wits, man?"
Abilities: Touch of Law/Protection (3/day), Channel Energy 3/day, 1 3rd level, 2 2nd level, 2 1st level spells remaining.
Taking quick steps forward the Fey that is near Anthuria. Jabbing once
With the press of her allies on all sides, and seeing the King beginning to grow weak, Mairen moves in for the kill, bringing her glowing longsword about time and and time again as she seeks to slice him to ribbons. Her face is set in a carved mask of disdain for everything the King represents: madness, chaos, the power of the wilderness over civilization, and worst of all, evil.
Seeing that Mairen had the fey king well at hand, Jetta moves to the grim task of cleaning up the lone straggler...
Anthuria raises her dagger above the fallen king, incensed at his horrific tactics. She gasps in pain as fire spreads across her back, her hand faltering.
Perry -> trying to save Balthus
Balthus -> chillin, Slasher attack King (miss)
Mairen -> attack King (hit for 19, hit for 18, miss)
Jetta -> attack brown fey (miss, miss, hit for 14)
Amund -> attack brown fey (hit for 14)
Anthuria -> hold
Perry tries to shake Balthus loose from his feast, and finally manages to draw his gaze, though the blankness in his eyes is terrifying. He's still conscious, but only barely responding to Perry's entreaties. Slasher jumps and tries to finish off the fey king, but the sprite ducks out of the way, and his gnashing teeth close on empty air.
But he's not so lucky when it comes to Mairen's sword, aglow in holy light. Once and twice it flashes, and the third swing whooshes above him as he falls to the mighty blows. With Jetta and Amund making quick work of his final subject, the fey menace appears to be dealt with, at least for the moment.
With the danger eliminated, there's finally a moment to breathe and take in the surroundings. The once-stately feast hall is now in shambles, food and drink and sprite bodies scattered over the floor and blood, human and fey, spatters the walls where the macabre dance's steps took the dancers. A quick look at the bodies of the fey brings up a curiosity - several are missing one or both ears, and one or two have human ears carefully grafted on in the missing ones' place.
Besides the King's throne room ahead, still partially veiled by rose vines, there is a tunnel leading to the feasting hall's left and right, as well as the doors you entered through, leaning drunkenly half-off their hinges.
|
|
"Good work, people," said Percival, reaching to a side-pouch, and drawing a golden rod. Poking Balthus in the belly impassively with it, he said. "We need to secure the area. I suspect more bees in the room we chained shut."
The golden rod (after enough prodding) began to light up, and washed a warm light over the ranger, restoring his wits to him.
"Now that you're a tad more awake, you'll need some rest to complete your healing."
Jetta goes around the room, routinely making sure all the fey are dead. Her work is dispassionate and without malice, a clean stab between the ribs for each. She also takes a quick look at the bodies for anything of worth or interest, turning them over with a bloodied boot. Only as she passes by Anthuria, the Hellknight halts momentarily, noticing her injuries.
"Hells," she mutters with concern, her tone in sharp contrast with her fearsome, blood-covered armor. "You look awful. Why did you go in like that? Uncl—"
Inhaling sharply, Jetta interrupts herself in the beginning of the sentence.
"Lord Percival," she says instead, with added emphasis. "Take a look at her wounds, would you?"
Balthus blank look was quickly replaced by look of awareness and then disgust.
It was the disgust part that doubled him over and made him retch loudly on the table. And it didn't stop until only bloody vile dribbled from his chin.
He wiped with his hand and accused his companions, "Why didn't you all..."
His question trailed as he saw all the dead fey around him.
He raised his hand to apologize but ended up retching again.
He sheepishly asked, "What have I missed? Everybody OK?"
The ranger pulled Amund aside, "Listen son, did Anthuria see me? You know, did she see me eating that stuff?"
Mairen cuts through the fae king with a final and vicious stroke, and then stares down at his fallen body with a cold certitude that what they have done here is good and just. She quickly scans the room, notes that Jetta is ensuring each of the vile fae are dead, and gives the Hellknight a nod in appreciation for her thoroughness.
Turning, she steps over to Anthuria and examines her wounds critically. "Here," she says, voice quiet as she guides the woman to sit. "Let me see if I can help."
She closes her eyes and places a hand on Anthuria's shoulder, and whispers, "Finder of the Path, the Wall that holds back the Briar, I beseech you Erastil to heal these wounds."
Golden light emanates from between her fingers, and healing power floods into Anthuria.
Rising, she moves over to Balthus and offers him her handkerchief, drawn from her pouch. She squeezes his shoulder, and says quietly so that no-one else can hear, "We all know that wasn't you. One more reason to see this job through to its bitter end."
Finally she looks to the group as a whole. "What say you we clear out the king's private room, then proceed down the halls?"
Jetta goes around the room, routinely making sure all the fey are dead. Her work is dispassionate and without malice, a clean stab between the ribs for each. She also takes a quick look at the bodies for anything of worth or interest, turning them over with a bloodied boot. Only as she passes by Anthuria, the Hellknight halts momentarily, noticing her injuries.
"Hells, you look awful. Why did you go in like that? Uncl-Lord Percival," she says instead, with added emphasis. "Take a look at her wounds, would you?"
Anthuria winces in pain, at first unsure what Jetta is talking about. But now that the adrenalin rush has passed, the harsh reality of battle begins to make itself known to her. And the truth stings.
Her gray tunic is spattered with blood, her own and that of others. For a dreadful moment she fears she may pass out, but Mairen grabs her under the arm, a rock on which to lean.
"I don't know what came over me. I was just so...so horrified at what they'd done. And so angry. I, I..."
She stops, lost for words, as the kindness of her allies (yes, even Jetta, especially Jetta), moves her. "I couldn't let them think they could just hurt you. Us."
"Thank you. You're an angel," she says to Mairen before rushing to Balthus. "Oh you poor man, just look at you. How's your head?" She fusses with his his hair and clothes as long as he stands for it.
"What say you we clear out the king's private room, then proceed down the halls?"
"Yes, let's continue. The sooner we're out of here, the better."
|
|
"Hells," she mutters with concern, her tone in sharp contrast with her fearsome, blood-covered armor. "You look awful. Why did you go in like that? Uncl—Lord Percival," she says instead, with added emphasis. "Take a look at her wounds, would you?"
"Be right there," the priest said, before smiling under his breath, and adding. "Sir Stahle."
Stuffing the wand into his side pouch, he took a glance to Anthuria, whom was tended to by Sir Marien. He observed the paladin's healing touch, and in a solemn voice echoed a prayer to the Master of the Hearth.
"I don't know what came over me. I was just so...so horrified at what they'd done. And so angry. I, I..."
"'tis merely the chaotic swing of battle, dear."
"What say you we clear out the king's private room, then proceed down the halls?""I say aye, and handle the mysterious buzzing near the entrance.
"I don't know what came over me. I was just so...so horrified at what they'd done. And so angry. I, I..."
She stops, lost for words, as the kindness of her allies (yes, even Jetta, especially Jetta), moves her. "I couldn't let them think they could just hurt you. Us."
"It's fine," Jetta answers, somewhat embarrassedly. "You were very brave. Just try to remember that you're not the one who's encased in steel..."
The Hellknight knocks a few times on her breastplate for emphasis.
"Be right there," the priest said, before smiling under his breath, and adding. "Sir Stahle."
"Don't call me Sir," Jetta mutters. "I'm a Hellknight, not some pampered noble."
"What say you we clear out the king's private room, then proceed down the halls?"
Jetta nods, rolling her shoulders. The mission was not over until every single fey had been routed out, and she was still on full alert.
Wincing at Balthus's reaction to what he has eaten Amund turns in attention to the others and realizes that he isn't needed there. His apparent charge is healing and truly doesn't need him for protection. More than willing to take a moment to himself after all that Amund heads over to Ursa who froze.
Kneeling down causes Aunmd to notice the injuries he sustained as the adrenalin lowers. The gash on his leg and the one on his side ache and bleed. Grabbing one of the potions from his bandolier he chugs it.
The potion does nothing to ease the ache of the wounds but helps to stanch them so he can deal with the puppy. Rubbing the pups face while mumbling to him Amund is rather surprised to see that the only one who sought him out was Balthus, even if it is about Anthuria.
The ranger pulled Amund aside, "Listen son, did Anthuria see me? You know, did she see me eating that stuff?"
Sighing while looking a little ill, Yes she did. I imaging you head hurts from the slap she gave you to snap out of it. She really... Amunds words are cut short by the arrival of said woman. Seeing his opportunity Amund slowly heads over to the Lord Arizan. I hate to ask but I would rather not burn though the few healing potions I have just in case. He gestures to his leg and his side. Little monster got me right below my armor.
The subject fey carry little of interest - bows, armor, and bracers of thorned rosewood, none particularly well made, all sized perfectly for them but child-sized for humans. The King carries a few things that may be a bit more of use - two vials of faintly glowing liquid, an intricately filigreed rapier, much more nicely-made rosewood armor, and a belt of vines entwined together in a complex weave. The King being small of frame as well, it does little good for anyone present, but the quality of the work suggests that it may fetch a pretty price at the fort for any halflings or gnomes looking for equipment. A small gold key also hangs from the King's belt.
The room at the back of the feast hall appears to be set up as a throne room, with the King's seat in the center, a towering oak throne inlaid with colorful resins and decorated with twisting vines. A door at the back of the throne room hangs slightly open; a light push reveals what look to be the King's personal chambers. The room is carpeted with rose vines, making walking a painstaking process to avoid the long thorns. A gently bubbling cauldron sits in one corner, while a simple table dominates the far wall. A variety of alchemical equipment covers the table; beneath the table is a sturdy hardwood chest.
Anthuria kneels above the limp body of the fey leader. His lifeless form gives no resistance to her hands hovering in the air as she tries to comprehend the nature of evil.
Such a tiny thing, to fuel such destruction.
She might have felt sorry for it under different circumstances. A residual pain shoots through her body, a reminder of its treachery.
As it is, she is glad for its demise.
These potions, they are potent curatives. These other items are magically imbued, valuable, but I doubt they would fit any of us."
With a heavy sigh she stands, offering the potions to Lord Arizian. She raises her other hand, which now holds a golden, blood-spattered key.
"Oh, and there's this."
|
|
The priest nodded at the younger sorceress, and took the potions, placing them in his side-pouch.
--a light push reveals what look to be the King's personal chambers. The room is carpeted with rose vines, making walking a painstaking process to avoid the long thorns.
A gently bubbling cauldron sits in one corner, while a simple table dominates the far wall. A variety of alchemical equipment covers the table; beneath the table is a sturdy hardwood chest.
"Alchemy," he said neutrally. "I have no lore in this."
Balthus tries to stay out of the way as much as possible but resumes his stoic demeanor. He says little for the next couple of minutes as the room is searched and shows no interest in the items found. There is a grim determination on his face that portents violence to the next person/thing to cross his path.
Jetta keeps her distance from the cauldron. The only thing she really knew about alchemy is that one should not breathe in the fumes.
Instead, she kneels to inspect the chest under the table.
I would be no help with the Alchemy. But should we not finish the sweep of this accursed place before we dig though their things? Amund stays in the feast hall back at the entrance with Ursa waiting for the other to be done.
Mairen stands guard by the door, keeping a weather eye out on the dining hall and its hallways. The last thing she wants is reinforcements arriving while they're busy investigating the King's quarters.
"They key, will it fit that chest?" She considers a moment, then, "Perhaps a better question--is it a trap?"
Jetta glances at Anthuria, and then squints suspiciously at the chest.
The chest is locked, but the lock and the key look to be made of similar material, with rose-and-leaf motifs molded into both; when you put the key into the lock, it fits perfectly. A quick glance reveals no traps you can see. Turning the key, it offers no resistance, and you open the chest to reveal a strange sight.
Three velvet-lined boxes sit inside the chest. One contains four small severed ears, with the long points you noticed on the sprites, while the other two are empty. A burlap sack, half-covered in a large bloodstain, sits atop a leather-bound tome, titled in strange gold-leafed symbols: පළමු ලෝක වල භූතයන් පිළිබඳ අමුතු ස්වභාවය මත.
Opening the sack, you find more ears, but these are larger and rounded instead of pointed, more human-like. The book is filled throughout with the strange language of the fey. Several small heaps of coins and a half-dozen finely shaped diamonds litter the chest's floor surrounding the boxes and book, all the coins bearing the insignia of the Empire of Cheliax; upon counting, the coins reach a total of 1200 gp.
Jetta rummages through the chest, putting aside her shield and halberd for a moment. She hands the book to Anthuria as soon as she sees it, and places the diamonds on the desk near Perry. The Hellknight gathers the scattered coins in the empty pouches and puts them away in her pack.
"We should see if any of this money belonged to the workers," she says gravely as she straps on her shield. "Their families should not have to suffer through poverty, in addition to losing a loved one."
The ranger decided to take up the sentinel role as the rest of the group explored the area. When no one was looking, he cleared his throat and spat out just to make sure that nothing remained of the grisly feast.
Slasher was never far from Anthuria, even letting the girl pet him every once in a while.
He then added, "That's a fine gesture, Jetta. We can even chip in with the sale of these items that we found."
Anthuria stares in wonderment at the the exquisite book she now holds. The pages are gold-rimmed and very fine. The intricate lettering on the cover is in the same unusual script she observed on the monoliths above-ground. Once again, it seems to float off the page and rearrange itself into semantic clarity. She mumbles the words slowly as she comprehends them.
"On the...Strange Nature...of Creatures...of the Wor...of the First World."
Her instincts are to throw the book away, but the academic in her wins over and she eagerly flips through its pages, searching for clues as to the meaning of this place and its loathsome inhabitants.
"The whole of the book appears to be a perverse menagerie of fey creatures. There are also descriptions of ah, unusual magical rituals."
She points eagerly to one page in particular, spinning around so quickly she almost loses her balance.
"Aha! It says here the fey try to regenerate their body parts by using a piece of flesh similar to the one to be regenerated. Oh! That might explain the severed ears, and the rounded ears on the bodies over there."
She pauses, musing over the state that things have come to, where she can casually speak of severed human ears.
---
|
|
"The whole of the book appears to be a perverse menagerie of fey creatures. There are also descriptions of ah, unusual magical rituals."
She points eagerly to one page in particular, spinning around so quickly she almost loses her balance.
"Aha! It says here the fey try to regenerate their body parts by using a piece of flesh similar to the one to be regenerated. Oh! That might explain the severed ears, and the rounded ears on the bodies over there."
The priest frowned, and asked, "That is something I did not understand. If someone overcame these fey long enough to tear out their ears, why did they not finish the job?
"I fear that secret might have died with them--unless," he said softly, before drawing out a gray, waxen scroll. "We are willing to ask the dead."
He then added, "That's a fine gesture, Jetta. We can even chip in with the sale of these items that we found."
"Those people gave their lives for our cause," Jetta says matter-of-factly. "They deserve that much."
"Aha! It says here the fey try to regenerate their body parts by using a piece of flesh similar to the one to be regenerated. Oh! That might explain the severed ears, and the rounded ears on the bodies over there."The priest frowned, and asked, "That is something I did not understand. If someone overcame these fey long enough to tear out their ears, why did they not finish the job?
"I fear that secret might have died with them--unless," he said softly, before drawing out a gray, waxen scroll. "We are willing to ask the dead."
Jetta nods slowly. She had seen signifiers use the spell before to interrogate murder victims, which had lead to many arrests, and solved cases that would otherwise been left open indefinitely.
"If there's a threat in the Vale more dangerous than these wretches," she says determinedly. "We should get all the information about them we can."
Grabbing her halberd, the Hellknight glances back into the feast hall. "But Amund is right. We should finish clearing these caverns before we get too far ahead of ourselves..."
Still listening but staying in the feast hall Amund sighs at the mention of speaking with the dead, Defiantly useful but it takes to much time. Moving forward to speak Amund stops when the Hellknight finally sees reason and wants to finish clearing the area.
Perry forcefully opens the door, and Amund and Jetta file past into the narrow passageway. The buzzing crescendos as they make it to the corridor's opening, filling the room, a hewn stone cave covered in waxy honeycomb with openings the size of Slasher or Ursa. Rich golden honey drips from several of the openings; others are filled with a paler fluid. Several large bees, identical to those that had aided the fey in the feasting hall, tend to what looks to be their hive, though they look up and redouble their buzzing at the sight of intruders.
Balthus grunted at the size of the bees. Not wanting to go inside agiant beehive, he waited for the insects to come out.
Balthus readied his bow and released two arrows in quick succession, hoping for an easy kill.
Anthuria stands behind the others, the sting of her wounds reminding her of the dangers of battle. In one hand she still wields the silver dagger. With the other she clutches the tome to her chest, its gold lettering reflecting the meager light. She imagines herself as a sort of eruditic knight. A page of pages, a warrior of words.
She could almost smile, were it not for the ominous buzzing ahead.
Jetta marches into the chamber, clangs a couple of times on her shield once she sees the giant insects, and then backs away into position.
Jetta's plan works out, as the bees lumber out to follow her with a low droning sound, the lead bee filling out the width of the cramped tunnel and his fellows lining up behind, buzzing angrily.
Mairen stands at the ready, waiting and watching as Jetta enters the chamber and then beats a neat retreat. That done, she hefts her blade with both hands, and prepares for the venomous insects to emerge.