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”We have no quarrel with you, Master Xen,” says Seraphina. ”We were merely assaying this land as part of our –“
The bandit orc cuts her words off harshly with a wave of his fist. ”Silence!” he roars. ”Your feeble excuses irritate my ears. You have strayed into my territory, and must pay a toll. For you to leave with your skins intact, one of you must stay behind. I hunger greatly and will eat flesh today. I am a generous and merciful ruler – only one of you need perish.”
Xen’s words echo harshly off the distant tower, repeating themselves a second time in a chorus of lower octave sound that flirts with the gentle lapping of waves on rocks. A bird of prey screams overhead.
Your companions shuffle awkwardly and glance at each other, and at you. By unspoken consensus, they step silently away from you, arms crossed or on weapon hilts.
”You are a generous ruler indeed, Master Xen,” Seraphina states, avoiding your eyes. ”Take Pretty for your repast. She is only a tiefling, and the least able of our group. Our city will be better off without her demonic blood poisoning us from within.”
Xen laughs at your predicament. ”Feeling betrayed, little devil-kin? You must have known they’d turn on you in the end. I offer you a hope: I only need one body. Slay one of your treacherous friends to feed my hunger, and leave in turn!”
A dagger is suddenly in your hand.
”You need not hunt down my soul, wretched elf. I’ve traded that away to beings far greater than you many years ago. Behold – the fruits of my bargain!”
Whirling, Xen dips his hand to his belt and comes up with a handful of cast brass fists, which he scatters into the air while invoking power in a language that makes your skin crawl. Hideously clawed demonic hands spring into existence around each of your friends. The summoned hands, dripping with the foul, watery ichor of their creation, close around your companions, choking off their pained screams as claws pierce armor and skin. After a moment, a series of wet crunches mark the demise of your companions, leaving you and Xen alone on the suddenly gore-strewn island.
”You’re nothing, elf. Walk away now, while you still can.”
This scene is wrong. You shake your head to clear it of the magical fog that had been enveloping your senses, and the enchantment slips from your elven mind. Your friends aren’t crushed pulp, the demon hands didn’t exist, and Xen doesn’t stand in front of you. Where the image of your hated enemy stood is only a vague shadow of a humanoid form, completely devoid of hair, clothes, or facial features. With a soundless laugh, the shadow dissolves and blows away on the wind.
Pretty is looking about wildly, a knife in her hand. Seraphina kneels on the ground in front of the party, a ceremonial dagger of bone and obsidian clutched in her hand and positioned for her to disembowel herself. She is also looking around, and when her eyes meet yours they are clear and free of magical control. Idris has her blade drawn and wedged under a rock, and appears ready to break her sword when the enchantment left her. Maja stands wide-eyed, holding her holy symbol tightly in her hand. Milo stands in a hasty swordfighting posture, holding a lowered sword in one hand and giving Nix a reassuring pat with the other.
”We have no quarrel with you, Master Xen,” you hear yourself say. ”We were merely assaying this land as part of our –“
The bandit orc cuts your words off harshly with a wave of his fist. ”Silence!” he roars. ”Your feeble excuses irritate my ears. You have strayed into my territory, and must pay a toll. For you to leave with your skins intact, one of you must stay behind. I hunger greatly and will eat flesh today. I am a generous and merciful ruler – only one of you need perish.”
Xen’s words echo harshly off the distant tower, repeating themselves a second time in a chorus of lower octave sound that flirts with the gentle lapping of waves on rocks. A bird of prey screams overhead.
Your companions shuffle awkwardly and glance at each other, and at you. ”You got us into this,” says Idris. ”It’s only fair that you get us out of it. After all, a ruler’s duty is to die for her people, if she must.” So saying, Idris draws a dagger from her belt and presses the hilt into your hands.
She’s right. You drop to your knees and bare your midriff, preparing to rectify the situation the only way you can.
Wait, this scene is wrong. You shake your head to clear it of the magical fog that had been enveloping your senses, and the enchantment slips from your mind. Where Xen stood, there is only a vague shadow of a humanoid form, completely devoid of hair, clothes, or facial features. With a soundless laugh, the shadow dissolves and blows away on the wind.
The rough stones of the island shore dig into your knees. In your hand you clutch a ceremonial dagger of bone and obsidian – Idris possesses no such blade. Kivan is looking at you with concern. Pretty is stepping slowly away from the party, dagger drawn and ducked into a combat stance as she sizes you all up. Idris has her blade drawn and wedged under a rock, and appears ready to break her sword when the enchantment left her. Maja stands wide-eyed, holding her holy symbol tightly in her hand. Milo stands in a hasty swordfighting posture, holding a lowered sword in one hand and giving Nix a reassuring pat with the other.
”We have no quarrel with you, Master Xen,” says Seraphina. ”We were merely assaying this land as part of our –“
The bandit orc cuts her words off harshly with a wave of his fist. ”Silence!” he roars. ”Your feeble excuses irritate my ears. You have strayed into my territory, and must pay a toll. For you to leave with your skins intact, one of you must stay behind. I hunger greatly and will eat flesh today. I am a generous and merciful ruler – only one of you need perish.”
Xen’s words echo harshly off the distant tower, repeating themselves a second time in a chorus of lower octave sound that flirts with the gentle lapping of waves on rocks. A bird of prey screams overhead. Your companions shuffle awkwardly and glance at each other, and at you.
”Go on, fight him!” snarls Seraphina as she pushes you forward. ”Some duelist you are! I thought you’d jump at the chance to prove yourself here. Win, and we continue on. Lose, and you buy us our lives. Get out there, Initiate!”
You can almost hear the roar of the crowd as you square off against Xen. The rocks below your boots smooth and soften until they feel like the familiar, oft-changed sand of the Ring of Honor. When the signal to begin is given, you execute the flawless draw that you’ve practiced a hundred thousand times. This time, you get it wrong. You look up too soon, gaging Brokav’s distance away from you as the elder duelist charges. Your sword fumbles from nerveless fingers, and as you stoop to retrieve it Brokav’s heavy boot kicks your hand away. Cold steel presses against your neck.
”Well, well…. The boastful Initiate. Seems that all your drilling couldn’t prepare you for the flush of real combat, eh? You are hereby ejected from the Academy – Break your sword in dishonor and crawl away!”
The booing crowd drowns out your heartbeat. Face burning with rage and shame, you grasp your beloved sword one last time….
Wait, this scene is wrong. You shake your head to clear it of the magical fog that had been enveloping your senses, and the enchantment slips from your mind. Brokav? You were fighting Xen! You glance around - where Xen stood, there is only a vague shadow of a humanoid form, completely devoid of hair, clothes, or facial features. With a soundless laugh, the shadow dissolves and blows away on the wind. Looking down at your feet, you notice your sword wedged underneath a rock, bending with your weight and ready to snap should you give it a sharp twist.
Pretty is looking about wildly, a knife in her hand. Seraphina kneels on the ground in front of the party, a ceremonial dagger of bone and obsidian clutched in her hand and positioned for her to disembowel herself. She is also looking around, and when her eyes meet yours they are clear and free of magical control. Kivan looks at you with restrained concern. Maja stands wide-eyed, holding her holy symbol tightly in her hand. Milo stands in a hasty swordfighting posture, holding a lowered sword in one hand and giving Nix a reassuring pat with the other.
”We have no quarrel with you, Master Xen,” says Seraphina. ”We were merely assaying this land as part of our –“
The bandit orc cuts her words off harshly with a wave of his fist. ”Silence!” he roars. ”Your feeble excuses irritate my ears. You have strayed into my territory, and must pay a toll. For you to leave with your skins intact, one of you must stay behind. I hunger greatly and will eat flesh today. I am a generous and merciful ruler – only one of you need perish.”
Xen’s words echo harshly off the distant tower, repeating themselves a second time in a chorus of lower octave sound that flirts with the gentle lapping of waves on rocks. A bird of prey screams overhead. Your companions shuffle awkwardly and glance at each other, and at you.
”Too slow!”
Xen’s hand dips to his side with blinding speed. With unerring accuracy, a fan of knives flies at your companions. Seraphina goes down with a gurgle, clutching her streaming throat. Kivan slumps to the ground, a hilt protruding from his left eye. Idris gasps as a blade plunges through her breastplate and heart, spraying blood from her back. Milo tries to bring up his bow, but a dagger flicks through his bowstring and impales the ranger through the side, forcing him to the rocky ground in a spreading pool of blood. Only you are left untouched – Xen had five knives.
”Heh, ain’t that a pretty sound,” chuckles Xen, as your friends moan and thrash out their lives on the ground. ”Music to my ears. S’how it was with your husband, cleric. He made the most entertaining noises as I carved him up. Died slow, he did. You could have saved him, if you were there. You weren’t though. And now you can’t save your friends. Your god has no power here, wench. Throw down that amulet and renounce your faith. Pledge yourself to the Dark Old Ones! With their blessing, your friends may still draw breath.”
Xen is right. The only way to rectify your worthless existence is to do his bidding. You firmly grasp your holy symbol of Erastil, preparing to yank it from your neck….
Wait, this scene is wrong. You shake your head to clear it of the magical fog that had been enveloping your senses, and the enchantment slips from your mind. Where Xen stood, there is only a vague shadow of a humanoid form, completely devoid of hair, clothes, or facial features. With a soundless laugh, the shadow dissolves and blows away on the wind.
Pretty is looking about wildly, a knife in her hand. Seraphina kneels on the ground in front of the party, a ceremonial dagger of bone and obsidian clutched in her hand and positioned for her to disembowel herself. She is also looking around, and when her eyes meet yours they are clear and free of magical control. Kivan looks at you with restrained concern. Idris has her blade drawn and wedged under a rock, and appears ready to break her sword when the enchantment left her. Milo stands in a hasty swordfighting posture, holding a lowered sword in one hand and giving Nix a reassuring pat with the other.
”We have no quarrel with you, Master Xen,” you hear yourself say. ”We were merely assaying this land as part of our –“
The bandit orc cuts your words off harshly with a wave of his fist. ”Silence!” he roars. ”Your feeble excuses irritate my ears. You have strayed into my territory, and must pay a toll. For you to leave with your skins intact, one of you must stay behind. I hunger greatly and will eat flesh today. I am a generous and merciful ruler – only one of you need perish.”
Xen’s words echo harshly off the distant tower, repeating themselves a second time in a chorus of lower octave sound that flirts with the gentle lapping of waves on rocks. A bird of prey screams overhead.
Your companions shuffle awkwardly and glance at each other, and at you. ”Just feed him the wolf,” suggests Kivan. ”You can always get another one. It’s like a dog. A sad moment, but a negligible loss. Far easier to bear than one of us!”
Kivan’s idea proves popular. After a moment of brief murmuring and looking from face to face, your friends draw blades and advance on Nix. Nix lets out a frightened whimper like she did as a puppy, scared of thunder in the wilds as you fed the abandoned wolf cub your rice cakes mashed in goats milk and sheltered her from the storm with your cloak. Nix ducks behind your legs, looking to you for protection. ”If you won’t choose us over the wolf, we’ll just cut you both up for his supper!” roars Pretty. In a flash, your sword is in your hand.
Wait, this scene is wrong. You shake your head to clear it of the magical fog that had been enveloping your senses, and the enchantment slips from your mind. Where Xen stood, there is only a vague shadow of a humanoid form, completely devoid of hair, clothes, or facial features. With a soundless laugh, the shadow dissolves and blows away on the wind. You lower your sword and look around.
Pretty is looking about wildly, a knife in her hand. Seraphina kneels on the ground in front of the party, a ceremonial dagger of bone and obsidian clutched in her hand and positioned for her to disembowel herself. She is also looking around, and when her eyes meet yours they are clear and free of magical control. Kivan looks at you with restrained concern. Idris has her blade drawn and wedged under a rock, and appears ready to break her sword when the enchantment left her. Nix nudges the side of your leg and whines sympathetically.
"Wha... the f+#$ is going on? My sword! Pretty! Sera! Everyone hold still!"
Idris carefully removes the blade from the rock without breaking it.
As Xen reveals his powers and ends the party Kivan can't help, but feel a sudden pang of loss. Looking down at his dead friends Kivan feels the sadness replaced with anger and looking back at Xen Kivan is about to unleash his full arcane might before he shakes his head clear. Looking at the shadowy humanoid form Kivan feels anger at being duped before feeling a sense of relief that his friends aren't actually dead. Looking at them though Kivan realizes that something is off. Hearing Idris's words Kivan snaps back into action.
"Is everyone alright?"
Lookign around Kivan seems glad that most everyone seems okay, but Pretty's actions still worry him.
"Pretty calm down. Whatever you're experiencing right now isn't real."
It made no sense at all! Seraphina was proud and commanding, yet she was deferring to this man's rule! Who does he think he is? Her friends would never betray her, and neither the opposite. Or would they? She had been betrayed before, and by her own family. Her whole life was based on her exquisite heritage, and thus consisted of running, hiding and being betrayed more often than she would dare counting. What could one say about random
In this dark place Pretty was definitely not feeling welcome, and now she realized it was all her instincts warning her about the attempt to leave her no escaping options. But they did not know her well, then. Pretty could always escape. She just needed to find a breach on their formation to run for the shadows, and then get to the shore. She was a good swimmer, and it was possible she could cross that mile even without a raft. From there the options were pretty vast.
But she was here, and now, and while her quick mind rushed thinking about escaping options, she realized that Xen was the responsible for this, and if he was dead there was no need for them to betray her. So it was just a matter of killing this Xen, so then she could focus on her other "friends" later, killing them while they slept.
Pretty quickly scanned the room and the people around her, absorbing other details and looking at possible exits. Still, although people were trying to talk and solve the sittuation all at once, the rogue didn't seem to hear a word of it, and charged Xen with impressive speed.
Seraphina looked down in confusion at the strange ceremonial dagger in her hands and dropped it suddenly as if she had been clutching a poisonous viper. Or perhaps something even worse, since she rather liked snakes... at least to eat. Still kneeling, she pressed her hands to the sides of her head and shook it violently, trying to clear her thoughts and shake off the cold feeling of doom that infected her a moment ago.
No, Idris possessed no such weapon... Which meant someone... or something else had pressed it into her hands. An angry hiss escaped from between her clenched teeth.
She looked around, meeting each of her companions' eyes in turn and feeling a wave of relief when she saw clear awareness there. Except for Pretty, she looked ready to fight everything at once. "The magics here are stronger than we realized. It's not Xen, but something... some presence here is affecting our minds!" She cast resistance upon herself to shore up her defenses, watching Pretty carefully. She did not bother trying to calm her with words as she rose slowly from her kneeling posture. As long as Pretty is charging shadows or nothing at all, Sera casts detect magic and tries to learn anything she can about the nature of the magic at work here.
At first, Milo thinks the illusion of Kivan is joking as he tells Milo to hand over Nix. But Kivan never told jokes, and his so-called friends quickly turn against him and Nix. "No! Together, we can-". But it is too late for discussion - Pretty is already rushing towards him. Two against five. Impossible. Drawing his sword, panic fills Milo as he thinks of what must come next.
But as quickly as that, the illusion is gone. Confused and with his heart pounding, Milo lowers his longsword. "It's alright, Nix," he says shakily, more for his own benefit than the wolf's. "It sure seemed real," Milo mutters, staring at Kivan to make sure the elf isn't trying some other trick to separate him from Nix so he can turn her over to Xen. He is about to ask Kivan more about this strange magic, when he realizes something is wrong with Pretty as she rushes around with her dagger.
"Careful - Pretty might hurt one of us - or herself." Milo attempts to stay near Pretty, ready to grab her in case she tries to throw herself into the lake, or something equally dangerous in her confusion.
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Pretty dashes forward, her world filled by Xen's leering face and the desire to put her dagger straight through it. He was not expecting your attack and stands flat footed. Your dagger crashes straight into the orc's temple - but rebounds off with a screech and clang. The fog clears from Pretty's mind for a moment. There is no Xen - just your friends standing scattered about the rocky shore around you. In front of you stands a chest-high granite boulder, a pale white chip indicating a recent blow. Your fingers smart from the insult of knuckles rapped against stone. For a moment you're clear-headed, but you feel the anger lurking at the back of your neck, clawing towards your skull.
Seraphina's divination is telling. The whole of the island appears to be subject to a strong enchantment and strong illusion effect centered on the tower in the middle of the island. Traces of this magic whirl and dance about each of your companions, but seem to be draining off into the scrub brush area slightly inland...
The eerie gloom of this island is assaulted by a sudden radiance floating in the air to your north. A shield-sized glowing ball of energy with what looks to be a skull at its center floats at chest height from the bush line. The magic effect surrounding the party drains and siphons off into this creature, brightening the glow. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem friendly. Moments later, a second such glow appears.
The glowing balls swoop effortlessly through the air with no regard for physics. As they draw into close range, you can see their surfaces crackling with electric energy that makes your hair stiffen.
"Alright, let's see what these things can do!"
Idris drinks her potion of Cat's Grace, feeling her muscles loosen and her joints become more limber. She then runs forward, waving her sword and yelling to try to draw the attention of the nearest creature, while watching it carefully to see what it does.
If the Will-o-Wisp makes an attack and misses, counterattack with unarmed strike:
Still light-headed and now with a dented masterwork dagger at her hand, Pretty finds the responsible for all this mess right in front of her. Whether the light bubbles were or not the ones who tricked her, she would get her revenge. Trying both to keep away from her companions and to get the ball surrounded, she moved around it, controlling her desire to cut Sera's back on the way.
"Will-o-wisps?" Milo says in surprise. "They'll shock you and feed off of fear." He'd heard tales of the strange lights leading travelers to their deaths, but had never seen one himself. Suddenly, the strange visions made more sense. With renewed confidence, he touches Nix's flank to ward her from their electrical attacks. "Attack!" he commands, and the wolf bounds past Kivan to snap at the closest will-o-wisp.
Seraphina goggled at the strange glowing spheres, half wondering if she were still having some hallucination in the grip of the enchantment once more. She turned worried eyes to Kivan, looking for some certainty from him. "Are we seeing correctly now? What in the blazes are these glowing skull-orb things?" Having devoted herself exclusively to the study of dragons and all things arcane, she had no inkling of whatever these things were. But it seemed Milo did!
"Will-o-wisps?" Milo says in surprise. "They'll shock you and feed off of fear."
Sera watched Pretty warily, relieved that she did not lash out with her blades as she passed by. She wondered what the tiefling had experienced to make her look so angry. Had the lot of them asked her to sacrifice herself as well? Seeing her friends converge on the wisps at least gave her some confidence that what she saw was real this time. Still, if she lashed out with her breath weapon and mistakenly hit one of her people... No, that idea would not even bear thinking about.
She watched Milo as he reached down and cast upon Nix. Seeing how the magical energies were woven about her like a web that would channel the electrical energy away from her body. Reaching inside herself, she found the means to copy what had been done and cast the same spell upon herself.
She then moved up to flank the wisp with Pretty, baring her claws and channeling arcane energy through them. "It's going to be Okay. We'll just focus on the task at hand. These wisps are the enemy." She said hoping to reassure her confused friend, as well as herself.
Kivan recalls a few tales of Will-o-wisps from his mentor. Seeing as how they would be immune to most forms of his magic Kivan pulls out his wand of magic missile before trying to talk the will-o-wisps down by speaking in their dark tongue.
"നാം യുദ്ധം ഇല്ല. സാഹസികരുടെ നമ്മുടെ ഗ്രൂപ്പ് നന്നായി സൈനിക പിഴച്ചുപോയവരത്രെ, ഞങ്ങൾ നിങ്ങള് കൊല്ലും അല്ലെങ്കിൽ ഞാൻ ഭയം ഒന്നനങ്ങാൻ ഒരു സ്ഥലത്തുനിന്നു പറയാൻ സാധിക്കും. നിങ്ങൾ ചെയ്യേണ്ടത് എല്ലാം വെറും ഞങ്ങളെ പുറപ്പെട്ട് അവിടെ പോയി ആണ്."
"We don't have to fight. Our group of adventurers are well versed in combat, and we probably will slay you, or I can tell you of a place that is brimming with fear. All you have to do is just leave us and go there."
If the will-o-wisps don't respond or say no Kivan will blast one of them with Glitterdust.
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Idris is used to dodging the blows of opponents with physical limbs and eyes that tell intent, so the strange movement of the wisp throws her off and she suffers a jolt of electricity as she slides past the magical creature.
As the party hustles into position to repulse the wisp attack, Kivan blows a cloud of shimmering dust that envelops a wisp. Glimmering particles glob all over the ball of energy, attracted by static charge. The cloud obscures the skull's line of sight, and the wisp's next jolt of electricity is badly off target. Idris takes advantage of the wisp's miss to thump it with her fist. Her hair stands on end from electric potential, but she is unharmed and the wisp buzzes with the impact.
The other wisp shocks Seraphina, but the energy is deflected in a burst of abjuration magic as her defensive spell takes effect.
Enveloped by Maja's protective spell Pretty's mind tries to fight off the confusion effect, but it appears she's too deep on it and nothing changes. Fortunately her madness is addressed at the creature in front of her, as she unleashes a flurry of cuts with her daggers at her closest enemy, the ball of light, while one of her other enemies distracts the monster.
"They look like clouds of light, but they're solid enough to take a punch!" Idris informs her friends. "We can take 'em!"
Spells taken care of, Milo feels the pulse of Seraphina's magic quickening his attacks. He points at Nix and waves his arm, and the wolf backs up, to give Milo a better shot, and conveniently to flank with Idris. While Nix snaps and snarls at the nearest will o wisp, Milo looses two arrows.
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She smiled, pleased with the defensive spells' effect. She should be able to stand against the wisp for some time. But Pretty was perhaps another matter... she still glared toward Seraphina as if not really seeing her friend who was helping her, but a foe instead. She did not like her odds if the tiefling turned those blades against her.
Sera concentrated on casting defensively, not wanting to provoke the wisp and spun out a slew of illusory doppelgangers to protect her further. Soon six of her stood facing the wisp.
Kivan begins to summon a creature that can assist the party in this fight.
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The blinded wisp proves to be easy prey. Stripped of the ability to react to incoming danger, the wisp is no harder to strike than the wooden dummies common to any training yard. Idris executes two sequential attacks in a combination she's performed countless times, her blade flashing through the wisp's aura of energy to strike the skull within. Battered, the wisp reels back just in time to take two arrow strikes from Maja's unerring bow. The wisp's aura dissipates with a horrible crackling and the strong scent of ozone, and the skull falls inanimate to the rocky shore.
In her madness, Pretty lashes out wildly at her foe. Now, the figure standing in front of her is a hulking street urchin, a low level enforcer for a worthless excuse of a gang, who used to threaten to beat her back in her youth. Two strikes go wild, but the third flies true. Pretty's dagger embeds itself through the skull, the sharp tip emerging between its eyes with a crack and spray of bone fragments. Milo's arrows whistle between the suddenly manyfold Seraphinas, one striking true. The wisp flares and prepares to electrocute someone, but is interrupted by Nix. The wolf flies out of nowhere, grabbing the skull in her jaws and crushing it neatly while whipping her head to and fro with the same motion she would use to break a rabbit's neck.
The danger hasn't passed, however. No sooner have the wisps been dispatched than a strange babbling starts to assault your ears. Shadowy forms rise from the grass, resembling robed humans who suffered brutal ends. One has a noose dangling on its chest, suspended around a very obviously broken neck. Another shows an eviscerated abdominal cavity shorn of the guts that should be inside. A third has a crossbow bolt protruding from the back of its neck with an entry wound just below the chin. A fourth weeps blood from both wrists, and the fifth is missing its eyes and has deep scratch marks down the cheeks. All five forms glow with a sickly, necromantic energy that pulses within them and bleeds slowly from the wounds that the creatures seem to have suffered in their mortal lives.
"Stranger still, stranger still, stranger stranger stranger still is lost!" proclaims one of the ghostly forms.
"Dry and die, dry and die!" agrees another
"No mask? No mask!" gasps the eyeless one in obvious horror.
"Not upon us, oh, king! Not upon us!" beseeches the hanging victim, as all five creatures advance upon you.
As you turn to confront this new threat, you notice that all the Seraphinas and Idris don't seem to be responding in a combative manner, and instead have a somewhat glazed look in their eyes.
"Stranger... stranger... stranger... stranger..." Idris whispers in unison with the first spirit, lowering her sword arm to hang limply by her side.
Seeing Allips Kivan finishes up his summoning spell and allows the lantern archon to form. Kivan then falls back as the little light forms behind Idris.
Sighing as the archon begins babbling Kivan just pulls out a shred of raw meat and slivers of bone as he begins to weave necromancy magic to take control of an Allip.
Hoping that the allip failed to resist his magics Kivan points away from the group towards the area ahead.
"You should wait over by that far patch of dirt, so that we can have a nice conversation after this battle."
"Nix - between them!" Milo shouts as the disturbing creatures approach. Ears laid back, Nix dashes between two of the allips, growling and snapping at the one on the end closest to Pretty. But her teeth pass through its ghostly body, leaving no marks.
Milo looses two arrows at the that same horrid human who is embedded with crossbow bolts. "If arrows killed you once, they'll kill you again." Yet when Milo's arrows hit the man, something doesn't seem right, though Milo cannot make out what it is. He wonders what terrible things happened here, to cause these men to suffer such madness and horrifying fates.
Pretty, still pretty unsure what to do, realizes for sheer luck that there are worse things than humans there, so she moves to attack one of them with her incredible mobility.
Watching Idris fall victim to some further delusion, Seraphina felt at once more certain that she was seeing rightly and that their situation was becoming more dire by the moment. She did not know what these new apparitions were but she decided to see how they fared against dragon's breath.
She moved to line up her shot with the swift movement of the haste spell, giving Pretty a wide berth as she passed and warning Nix to move back with a quick "Get back!" Taking a deep breath, she exhaled and released a torrent of arcane energy that blasted forth from her and engulfed three of the ghostly figures in green corrosive flames.
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Kivan's spell forms and takes hold of an allip's mind. "Master..." it says. "Do what master says because threefold increase try to durance vile vial show him take bleed mouth bleed mouth shine bleed shine mouth threefold to day a day a way bleed three free bleed three!" Babbling incoherently, it obediently trods over to where Kivan commanded it.
Pretty's dagger flashes ineffectually through an allip. Non-magical weapons seem to have no effect. Fortunately, the madness from before seems to have run its course, and control returns to the tiefling's mind.
Seraphina's blast of acidic energy catches all three allips squarely, burning holes through their incorporeal forms with foul smoke wherever droplets of the breath weapon contact their ghostly shrouds. It doesn't seem as damaging as you would expect - the gulf between the material world and the spiritual is just too distant.
Milo's assumption is correct, and Nix's snapping jaws come up empty. His arrows, infused with magic, perform better and tear ragged flapping holes through ghostly robes.
As Maja invokes Erastil's power, a soothing energy flows over the battlefield that attacks the very essence of the allips. Although not mitigated by their incorporeality, their madness proves a significant shield for their existence and they shrug off some of the channeled energy.
Floating over rocks and scrub brush, the allips advance and seek to draw you into their mad embrace.
"Could I please, may I please, could I please touch touch touch touch touch! May I please!"
"Why would I, for why would I, canvas to amass. Canvas to amass!"
"Felt the mat, can try a beg to plait. Born a son, felt the mat, stranger still stranger still is lost carcosa!"
The allips gibber madly as they attack, seeking you with cold and maddening grasps. Milo, Nix, and Seraphina are all brushed against, and your mind reels with the pure madness of these undead beings. One approaches Idris, but can't comprehend the nature of the world it finds itself in and gestures wildly instead of touching her. The sight is enough to break Idris out of her fascinated haze.
Pretty shakes her head violently, trying to put her mind into working order. She was fighting among her friends with some odd translucent creatures, or were they? While she was still trying to organize her thoughts the rogue decided it was best to destroy the creatures before they could do more damage, and then try to figure out what happened.
Since her daggers were not working she drew Dovan's rapier and attacked the creature, trying to pierce through its head.
Milo curses, realizing Nix's attacks cannot harm these things, and curses again as one approaches him. "May I please. .. May I please. ... " he mutters as it grabs at him, its madness somehow leaching through its dead flesh.
There is little he can do for Nix until his own attacker is dead, Milo decides. His back to his companions, Milo looses two more arrows at the allip, bracing for its counter attack. Nix continues to snap ineffectively at the foe between her and Pretty.
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Idris snaps out of it just in time to dodge the creature's claws, and with a scream of anger, slashes at the thing.
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Milo's arrows find purchase in his foe, but the action of drawing and loosing his bow leaves him vulnerable to another maddening touch.
Idris' furious attacks sweep cleanly through the allip in front of her, dispersing its essence and freeing the tormented soul from its mad existence.
Pretty finds the rapier to be more suitable for these foes, but cannot find a vulnerable spot on the allip's ghostly body as she would a tangible foe.
Idris snaps out of it just in time to dodge the creature's claws, and with a scream of anger, slashes at the thing.
Seraphina takes a step to the right, seeking a more advantageous position. She flexed her claws, imbuing them with arcane energy before lashing out at the ghostly thing.
Kivan slaps the lantern archon out of its fascination before pointing at the nearest attacking allip.
"Attack that allip."
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Between Seraphina's slashing claws and Maja's command of Erastil's presence, the remaining hostile allips are sent to the peace of their final rest.
One allip remains, shackled by Kivan's control over what's left of its mind. It paces in a circle with an unceasing stream of babble from its ghostly face.
"Bell on door clank, come on in. Sit down chair don't be afraid. steam hot towel, steam hot face. Shamed, chained, ashamed. I was shamed, steam hot face, can't see really scared. Bell on door clank, bell on door clank, bell on door clank!"
"Whew!" Idris wipes her face of the cold fear-sweat that beaded on her forehead. "Uh, Kivan? That one's under your control, now, right? Do you have any purpose for it, or can we kill it?"
"Whatever that is, I don't think it will give us any sort of understandable information." Pretty stays a few feet away from the others yet, processing the information. "Is everyone ok?"
"Feel free to end it. It would probably thank you if it could."
Kivan looks around at everyone else especially Pretty. "We should be asking if you are okay. You did seem a bit out of it for a while."
"I am unharmed, but Idris looks to have been burned by the wisps." Five Seraphinas replied, sounding tired. Looking around at her friends, she gave a small sigh of relief. "At least we all seem to be in our right minds for the moment. That was rather an unpleasant illusion I beheld for a moment. This place seems haunted by defeatism and despair. I believe the cause is magical and centered on that tower. I think we should investigate and see if it is possible to dispel this fell magic."
The allip hits Milo as he fires at it. But even after his friends kill it, he hears its incoherent babbling. He tries to focus and clear away the fog in his mind, but the voice whispers stranger still stranger stranger stranger still. He shakes his head and rubs his temples. "It...did something to me, when it hit me. I can still hear it talking." He looks nervously at his friends, wondering what it had done to him. Would he go mad now too, like the things they'd just killed?
"Nix couldn't bite the thing, but it didn't get her either." He keeps Nix close by his side, comforted by her presence.
"Good idea, Sera. Someone could go mad if they stumbled on this island by accident. We should cleanse it if we can."
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Kivan looks over when Milo comments.
"Well you should be alright in a few days of rest and taking your mind of this type of thing, but if you still feel bad then my suggestion is to talk to a priest."
Kivan then looks back over at the babbling allip.
"The allip will still be there when we get back, so let's go explore this tower."
"Yes I'm fine." Pretty does not add anything else to that insanity subject. "I second going to the tower, but I think we should surround this creature and take it out of its misery before it causes us more trouble."
"I've never seen Xen before, yet I saw him here."