Minakeh moves next to the halfling girl and faces Stella. In a calm voice and using his hands to gesture "clam down" Minakeh says Now don't be hasty, Stella. I'm sure it was just an accident, she didn't mean any harm by it. To err is human, and to forgive divine.
Veronica looks at Stella with contempt.
She then turns to the halfling and says
"About that cup of wine I ordered...
After a night like this I usually feel like having some wine, but I hate to think at what might pass for it in this place...
I think I'll pass"
Before this incident...
Gaspar heard Iawas' parting words as he made his way through the room. He shot her a genuine smile as if to say ... and I hope we dance again
Up to speed...
Gaspar, still awkwardly standing on one of the barroom tables in a squatted pose, straightened up and hops down to the floor dusting his maybe less-than-fancy-now clothing off.
"Now, now. That's a bit of a conclusion you have jumped to, lady. You seem to know a whole lot more about what has happened here than anyone else. I suggest you yell us what has happened here."
"oh I'll tell you what happened..." she points at Stella.
"The crazy lady just put one of these disgusting rats into the stew, which was probably made up of these in the first place..
And that doesn't even begin to explain what's behind the cuddly disposition they have around her..."
I poof back into a kobold, look around an expression of confusion, fear, and anger on his face. "WHAT ARE THESE THINGS?... WHAT IS HAPPENING?" I look at Stella seeing the way the critters react "did you cause this?!".
I think I'm glad I haven't eaten anything since I arrived here
Pink Eye says "Strong as the mountain,we have stood against the foe. Collect these fallen creatures and help get the to Stella so we can get them to a fire to smoke
Norvallen's eyes begins to twitch, recalling the fact he ate the "stew" that is now in question. His stomach is indecisive on whether it wants to rebel, or not. Suddenly one problem isn't quite so much a problem anymore.
"Zartana," Norvallen states a bit too calmly. "Suddenly its a lot easier to make that meal you requested."
Still, Norvallen is hurt, and tempted to do something incredibly cruel. His crossbow falls into his hand without thought, with a rope of silk trailing from a loaded bolt, and a single spell slips from his lips as the air around his person shimmers ever so slightly.
"Duaj turno kaj deturni."
Norvallen's white hair twitches and frizzles, no longer staying in a ponytail, but spread loose reaching over both shoulders, almost as if reaching towards that ... thing's neck that dares think itself as a chef.
"Lord Alystair!"
Hearing Lord Alystair's name, Fennik pauses a moment, releasing his mind from the power he had been using to heal the dragon, this "Jamahzin".
"Excuse me, sir. Did you say 'Lord Alystair'? While I'm certain sorting this chaos into some vestige of order is of extreme importance, Lord Alystair is the very man I am here to meet; as I believe are we all. Perhaps we should pause momentarily in explaining these strange happenings and ensure our benefactor has not come to ill. If you would point me in his direction, I have some healing resources yet that may be applied as needed."
"no . . . No . . . NO, No, NO NO NO!"
As things begin to settle down and the people in the tavern start to outnumber the things that erupted from the cellar, a plaintive cry starts to rumble into a scream. Everyone turns to see Stella standing near the hearth, ladle in hand, a rictus of rage and despair twisting her face. Several of the beasts surround her and one nuzzles her leg in a loving way. The others still living stop combat at the sound and bound to surround her.
"NOOOoooo! Too soon, too soon! Now too many are dead, and what will we put in the stew!" She scoops up the cuddly horror and drops it in the cauldron where it begins to dissolve into lumps and gravy. "You!"
She points the spoon at the cowering halfling girl, still quivering on the table where she was placed. "You did this. You touched the salt! I told you to never touch the salt!"
The things, as one, swing their gaze to fall on the girl.
Anghus manages to survive the scruff the same way he survived so many others before. He dodged and ducked and kept away from danger. As he pulls his rapier from the gaping maw of a eldritch creature, he hears the terrible piercing voice of Stella the soup-maid cry out " I knew that woman was no good!" he calls out, dashing to stand infront of the cowering halfing girl." Fan mo dhiaidh Me" He said over his shoulder, leveling his blade and his body between Stella and the object of her rage.
Halfling
"Now, now, sir halfling. I'm certain there is a perfectly good expaination for all this hubbub. Living creatures are turned to stew everyday; a completely normal occurance. This particular method does seem somewhat more... efficient, I'll say. But there a far stranger things in this world."
"That may be," Norvallen, clearly fighting to control his anger, growls towards one of the healers . "I've even cooked and eaten wolf meat, so its not the fact it tried to eat me that is the problem."
"Its the fact these things don't even look ," the ire in the word nearly comes out as a hiss. "With those teeth, those tails, and much less barely-looking like giant rats!"
"By the gods, what ARE those things anyways?" Norvallen almost shouts at the would-be cook.
Stella ends her tirade and surveys the room.
"But . . . maybe . . ." Her skin slowly lightens to transparency, her torso and body seems to stretch as she grows taller and thinner. Her ears rise to new points and thick black vines heavy with a dark fruit wind out of her hair to drape along a body which slips from the short dress it wears. You see the wall behind her and the eldritch things shiver in excitement. One finger dips into the stew and she drags it in a greasy line across her belly, up to her chin and cheek.
"Child, do your job. Fetch me a bottle of the sweet."
The halfling girl jerks to her feet as if lifted by strings. Tears stream down her face as one foot moves forward a step toward the end of the table and the dark maw of the celler stairs.
Fighting through the pain of her injures, D'ahia opens herself to another attack as she reloads her pistol, grateful once again as her armor stands up against the creature's teeth. A roar of triumph tears from her throat with the resounding fire of her pistol and the seemingly simultaneous fall of the second beast.
D'ahia downs a vial of something and appears to regain her lost vitality
She smoothly pours another load of powder and packs a bullet into the short muzzle of her pistol.
D'ahia moves toward the others & away from the beasts, reloading and shooting as she goes, hands a blur as she calmly steps through the chaotic room. With each shot, she attempts to clear the area around others who have been overwhelmed and the hard-pressed heroes assisting those unlucky fallen. All the while, she takes care not to target any beasts already engaged with others, for fear of friendly fire.
D'ahia pauses at the strange events, and frowns as the creatures halt their attack to focus on the Halfling girl. She smoothly reloads her pistol and stands ready to move against the rats or their newly apparent master.
" Ya, whut in the hells is gon' on!?" She asks of no one in particular, her eyes shifting from the gathered adventurers to the leadmost rats and enraged cook-woman.
Atamar now looking somewhat alarmed steps forward.
With a look on his face that shows little emotion and in a voice that is flat, with little of the good nature that normally shows itself Atamar addresses the lady.
"Beg your pardon mam, but whatever business you have with the girl really should end right here."
Atamar draws his Shortswords and makes her his studied target.
Cassandra pulls on long unused reserves of strength and will to stand and put on a strong front. She levels an arrow at the woman and waits. She thought of transforming. But she didn't think she had the strength. D'ahia had it right. What was going on here? She slides towards the closet person and whispers. "You have any salt?"
Foreboding slowly starts mix with the anger Norvallen faces, who grips his crossbow with both hands. Not aiming at the person, but rather at the pot.
Uneasily, the white-haired human speaks, while looking towards 'Stella' and that pot.
"Montru la momentojn inter tempo."
D'ahia had seen enough; there were few crimes greater than denying a sentient creature the right to it's own will.
[dice=Pistol on "Stella"]1d20 + 6[/dice]
EDIT:
Foreboding slowly starts mix with the anger Norvallen faces, who grips his crossbow with both hands. Not aiming at the person, but rather at the pot.
Uneasily, the white-haired human speaks:
"Montru la momentojn inter tempo."
** spoiler omitted **
You're eyes fill with lights of such beauty and horror it overcomes you completely. The magic is twisted and glorious and something you must have but hope to never see again.
D'ahia had seen enough; there were few crimes greater than denying a sentient creature the right to it's own will.
[dice=Pistol on "Stella"]1d20 + 6
Damage?
Edit: nevermind, won't matter.
Stella makes no attempt to dodge, or even move out of the way. The bullet strikes her in the chest which ripples like the surface of a pond when it hits. The slug tumbles, visible beneath her skin, before it sinks out of sight hidden by the beasts at her feet. She shows no other reaction.
"I don't think this one is friendly" I say as I leap toward the halfling transforming back into my Red Wingless Dragon form.
Standing on my four legs I growl "explain yourself! why do you want the halfling?"
Waking up amongst a sea of dead people and rats Jorn look at the person who revived him. It’s was the half-orc who was seated at the table he joined right before all hell broke loose.
Hearing Stella talk to the halfling girl bring only more questions. What is she talking about? What did she mean by too many dead?
Standing up he looks around. Where is the halfling girl he tried to save? And did Lord Alystair survive.
Seeing the chance in Stella upsets him even more. Never have I seen such creatures and magic. Shivers run down his spine. Hearing Stella commanding the girl brings him back to reality. I will not let you die after what I went through trying to save you.
"No, don’t. Come to me."
Norvallen chokes on air almost as if to scream. His body shudders trying to recover from the sight but fails.
Oh,bother! Can't even give a man a moment to think properly!
Gods damn! That thing is loud!
This isn't looking good. I suspect we'll need Jamahzin's assistance yet.
Whew. Fast responses. Check my earlier post, I changed it.
[dice=K:Nature maybe]1d20+7+1
Nothing in your experience resembles the thing before you.
Minakeh draws his dagger and hand crossbow as a thunderous bang rips through the tavern. Reinskitt!
Gaspar turned toward the healer who was helping Jamahzin from before.
"Yes, but I'm not certain of where the Lord Alystair is...
Giving a few moments to continue looking around, Gaspar continues.
"This place is truly a mess. I d--"
Gaspar's head shot around to look at the barmaid now. Until now, he had been all but ignoring the commotion in his search for Lord Alystair. He had heard the shot, but saw no changes. Not even any evidence that the shot had missed. Gaspar quickly made his way over the table and to the location of Jamahzin near the halfling.
"Friend, I think there's something more at play here."
He readies himself to stop the halfling girl with a trip if necessary, preparing himself just as the dragon-person had. He positioned himself at the greatest vantage point for such a maneuver.
"Where's Lord Alystair?"
It was clear that Gaspar was trying to draw a connection between the Lord's absence and this strange... creature.
"And now the stew is only the second most disgusting thing about her..."
Veronica unsheathes her rapier again.
She struggle to look the part but the truth is she is still severely wounded from her confrontation before.
It doesn't matter... there are plenty of swords here all they need is a little bit of direction.
She hops on a chair pointing at the slug with dramatic flair.
"She feed you her disgusting creatures for dinner... Now feed her Steel in return!!!"
(inspire courage +1)
Behind you you hear more movement. Lord Alystair, supported by Iacamo is standing, unsteady, on his feet. The two are moving back toward the wall of the taproom.
"Steady Lord." Iacamo sports fresh gashes across both arms and blood flows from a wound on his abdomen. He keeps the bulk of his body between Stella and Lord Alystair.
the noble pushes him away. "Give me space, boy! No trumped up barmaid drives me from a room!" He pulls an ornate sword from its sheathe.
Seeing the creature absorb the projectile is the latest in a series of mindboggling events. After hearing the words spoken by Lord Alystair Jorn grabs the ivory horn from his belt and blows it one time. He then starts to recite an old battle poem.
From the north, came a warrior
Bearing burdens, dark and deep
I've a will and I've a wanting
And miles to go before I sleep
I have horses in my stable
I have sons fit to fight
I will bring this to your table
If you ride with me this night
From the north, came a warrior
Bearing burdens, dark and deep
I've a will and I've a wanting
And miles to go before I sleep
Blood red wine, a toast for heroes
And harping till the morning light
Come the dawn, the road will lead us
If you ride with me this night
[dice=knowledge religion]1d20+10
The teachings of the gods offer you no insight.
Round 1
Tristan hears the screams come from bellow. Still a bit on edge from earlier his hand moves to the pommel of his blade again. Sonn his thoughts of concern are made real as the girl scrambles out of the basement in terror. He has seen panic before and knows what follows. He stands again knocking over his chair. His shield is brought to bear in front of him as he crouches down peering over its edge. He speaks a few divine words as he feels the fates bless him. The first creature charges. It's toothy maw agape and salivating for the flesh of man. It bites deep into Tristan's leg. He winces at the pain and howls out. His eyes lift from the battle for only a moment, but long enough for the other to circle around. It too now lands a bite. Spurred on even more with the scent of blood now in the air.
Round 2
This brings focus back to Tristan as his life now in danger. It's kill or be killed. Rage boils inside as he feels the chance of avenging his family slipping away. At that moment he strikes. for . The blade bites deep into the creature staggering it. Tristan watches as its eyes glaze over, but his assault is not done as he spins slamming his shield into the one behind. for . The shield slams the creature hard in the head and bounces it off the floor. The staggered one still wishing to eat opens it's mouth again and luges for Tristan's leg only to fall over from the bleeding wound. Having no concern for it's kin the other too continues it's assault. and neither overcoming Tristan's defense.
Round 3
Victory now close at hand Trisan puts his focus on the remaining beast slashing and slamming into it. for and for , The shield again slams the beast hard sending sprawling against the wall reared up with its belly and neck exposed Tristan drives his blade in pinning it to the wall not knowing it was already dead.
Looking to the rest of the room he takes a few deep breaths before drawing his blade from the wall.
"That was all a bit unexpected." Walking over to the girl still shaken he reaches out his hand.
"Miss it is alright. We manged to kill them all. Are you alright?"
Stella ends her tirade and surveys the room.
"But . . . maybe . . ." Her skin slowly lightens to transparency, her torso and body seems to stretch as she grows taller and thinner. Her ears rise to new points and thick black vines heavy with a dark fruit wind out of her hair to drape along a body which slips from the short dress it wears. You see the wall behind her and the eldritch things shiver in excitement. One finger dips into the stew and she drags it in a greasy line across her belly, up to her chin and cheek.
"Child, do your job. Fetch me a bottle of the sweet."
The halfling girl jerks to her feet as if lifted by strings. Tears stream down her face as one foot moves forward a step toward the end of the table and the dark maw of the cellar stairs.
Anghus felt even smaller than normal as 'stella' revealed her true self and stretched to alarming new heights.
"Gods damn it, someone who's good at grabbing, grab her!" Anghus shouted as the halfling girl he was standing over jerked to her feet and began to move at the foul beast's command.
The Lord piped in" Still kickin' over there aye? " Anghus thought to himself as he saw them near the back wall of the tavern.
Jorn's horn and poem moved Anghus, and though he took a few steps backwards cautiously, he prepared to stand his ground.
A stream of 600 large butterflies pours forth and flutters around for 2 rounds, blinding everyone within 25 foot (Reflex DC 14 negates).
Stepping calmly out in front of the crowd, Jonathan levels his blade in Stella's direction. "Perhaps you ought to control yourself, before my blade finds your throat. I've killed uglier things than you." Still covered in blood, his blade almost glows a bloody red as the light from the lanterns dances across it. "Do we understand each other?"
The halfling girl pauses, standing on her tip toes. A shril keen of fear leaving her mouth with each breath.
Stella looks back and forth at the assembled. "You do not like my food?." She laughs. It sounds like water pouring into a metal pan. "Very well. I take back all I did to serve you food. Lord Alystair. Nothing you do will open our lands to your corrupting touch. May all you consume, consume you in turn."
She drops the ladel. And the cauldron ceases to bubble instantly. The fire goes out and the logs beneath appear never touched by fire. What worse, the stew congeals and reforms into a flood of the evil things, spilling out in a pile covering the hearth.
Everyone who ate any of the stew feels a sudden pain in their gut, sharp like you swallowed broken glass.
|
After a long journey, Sir Justin reaches the Randy Sasquatch quite late. As he gets close, he hears a loud [b]/b] from inside. Without hesitation, he draws his trusty falchion and races for the door, hampered somewhat by his armor. He flings open the door and takes in the scene: a lady standing surrounded by some kind of abominations, surrounded by a motley crew of people, one of whom holds a smoking gun
Norvallen you may act.
To keep this at just the right level of chaos, the kobold's butterflys effect only him this time.
After hearing the words spoken by the abomination Jorn grabs his stomach.
Grabbing his stomach Jorn feels his abdomen being torn open and sees the same rat-like creature he fought before come out. He dies instantly!
Oh gods. The pain. She did not need this right now. Wounds on the outside and the writhing agony inside. Cassandra cried out in torment. The arrow on the string fell to the floor useless. This needed to stop. She pulls out one of the few cold iron arrows and aims as she attempts to fight the pain through gritted teeth. This thing wasn't natural at all. So, judging by the vines and ear, it must be fey. And they hated cold iron.
Norvallen is dazed for 1d4 ⇒ 4 rounds.
Norvallen you may act.
The mask hiding the grimace as pain sears through his abdomen, Jonathan nonchalantly moves his free hand down to his stomach, clutching at it through his armor. "You cannot stop us all," he says through gritted teeth, his sword point wavering as he forces words out through the pain. "You may not be humanoid, but taking your head from your shoulders ought to solve the problem just as well."
Norvallen's knees buckle and hit the floor with a thump, uncaring of the pain as his wide eyes stare at nothing. The crossbow in his grip clatters to the floor, as he reaches out to brace himself against the wall and attempt to empty his stomach.
After a few heaves, he tries to speak between attempts.
"How... are we... still alive? "
Gaspar looked around after those words at those who begin buckling with pain.
'I just had the ale...'
Holding his ground and unsure of if any attacks would be useful, Gaspar prepares to defend himself.
"What evil monstrosity..."
He waited to see the effects of Cassandra's attacks before making any rash decisions. There are those who know about these sorts of things. Then there's Gaspar.