As Hektir approaches the barrier Malavarius shouts with genuine alarm, "Hektir! NO!" The wizard calms down as Hektir reaches for his own posterior rather than the vortex. His tone shifts to one of chastisement as he realizes Hektir hasn't died, "Come away from there, you hairy brute! You're bound to be blasted into dust or sucked into oblivion or.. or twisted inside out!"
Apetir looks at Mal and shrugs. He waits a few minutes, admiring his own hairy and brutish forearm and then knucklewalks to the west (to the right).
A large chunk of stone juts from the ground like a natural stage. Six boulders float in the air and slowly orbit the raised platform. The rich scent of loamy earth hangs heavy in the air.
On top of the platform, which is roughly 20 feet square and 10 feet high, squats another dawn piper, this one holding a flute.
As you near, he speaks, his voice calm: [b]"Turn back, mortals, you cannot pass. We have come to claim this reality, and we’ll take the Crone’s hovel with us. Turn away and live your lives in peace and safety, unburdened by the heavy weight of relevance."
"Here now chap, this is our reality, who gives you the right to steal it from us?" Quinn flashes a confident look back at his companions, sure that he's presented a conundrum for the Dawn Piper. "What about sharing, eh? A fantastic solution when two parties both have the same interests. Why, let me tell you some stories about Hektir and I sharing." Quinn gestures to the hairy ape that shares his same lack of social filters.
As the group follows Hektir off to the west, Malavarius debates with Zeno the nature of the vortex and the likely existance of a series of anchors attuned to it that maintain it. As with most of his discussions with his familiar, it is more than loud enough for all the others to hear everything that's said.
---
"Why isn't the First World good enough for you blasted fey, hmm?"
Pems' eyebrows raise as the fey thing issues its warning, then shudders as Quinn opens the door to another tale of debauchery and filth. In fact, he shudders again, wondering if Quinn refers to that story about the bar-"maid" that Olof the stablemaster used to tell. The one where the bandit apparently decided capture was preferable to following through on his carnal promises to the drunken pair.
Hektir:
Malavarius:
Pemsworth:
Quinn:
Tsin:
Antagonist:
As Quinn launches into his tale, the dawn piper sighs heavily and stands up.
"So be it," he says, gesturing.
Round 1
Apetir double moves right next to the annoying fey.
Know (nature) - fey (spec attacks, spec defs)
HP 63/63
Barkskin (1 hour)
Resinous Skin (1 hour)
Endure Elements (24 hours)
Resist Energy (1 hour)
ApeTir
AC: 19 (1 dex, 4 NA, 1 Deflection, 3 Barkskin)
Str: 23 (19 base + 4) (+6)
Dex: 12
Con: 16
Low Light Vision, Scent
Attack: +4 BAB +6 Str +1 Amulet =+11
Bite: +11, 1d6+7
Claws x2: +11, 1d4+7 + grab
Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.
Speed 30 ft., Climb 30 ft.;
Pems eyes the stone platform, but without it being covered in ice, there's no way he'll be able to climb it. He eyes the piper, hexing his AC!
Pemsworth: 27
Hektir: 18
Antagonist: 17
Tsin: 13
Malavarius: 9
Quinn: 7
The fey seems not at all disturbed by Pems' hex as Hektir climbs up to the top of the platform. As he arrives, he suddenly realizes the terrible beauty of the dawn piper, so great that it's almost blinding.
Will Save (vs. fey effects, yay druids)
Apetir is not pleased with the dawn pooper.
Malavarius frowns at the fey and its troublemaking before drawing his trusty wand and sending a beam of fire lancing through the snowy air toward it.
HP: 35/35
AC: 11 (11 T / 10 FF)
Fort: +2 // Ref: +3 // Will: +7 (+1 vs spells, SLAs, & Su abilities of evil arcane spellcasters)
Resist 5: Cold
Energy Absorption: 0/18 absorbed
Cantrips Prepared (4): detect magic, open/close, prestidigitation, read magic
Level 1 Prepared (3+2+1): feather fall [ ], hold portal [ ], protection from evil* [ ], magic weapon [ ], snapdragon fireworks [X] [ ]
Level 2 Prepared (3+2+1): glitterdust [ ] [ ], protection from arrows* [ ], resist energy [ ], spontaneous immolation [ ] [ ]
Level 3 Prepared (2+1+1): dispel magic* [ ] [ ], fireball [ ], haste [ ]
Protective Ward used: 1/8
Scorching Ray charges used: 34/42
Ongoing Effects:
Apetir spits and looks at the little dawn piper, his big teeth, clashing.
Tsin turns to Quinn, a hugely expectant look on her face. "So, who'll it be? Your gift of flight is looking lovelier and lovelier at the moment."
Round 2
Apetir pummels the little jerk, sitting high on his jerkrocks, looking jerkily and working for the witches.
to hit;
damage.
to hit; +grab
damage.
to hit; +grab
damage.
Grab vs. CMD
Grab vs. CMD
ApeTir
AC: 19 (1 dex, 4 NA, 1 Deflection, 3 Barkskin)
Str: 23 (19 base + 4) (+6)
Dex: 12
Con: 16
Low Light Vision, Scent
Attack: +4 BAB +6 Str +1 Amulet =+11
Bite: +11, 1d6+7
Claws x2: +11, 1d4+7 + grab
Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.
Speed 30 ft., Climb 30 ft.;
HP 63/63
Barkskin (1 hour)
Resinous Skin (1 hour)
Endure Elements (24 hours)
Resist Energy (1 hour)
Round 1
"As requested..." Quinn grants the gift of flight to Tsin, "...now let's teach these fey fiends some manners!"
Round 1, Delay Init to 6
AC = 21
HP = 53/56
Weapon Equipped = MW Cold Iron Longsword
Condition(s) = Flight
Tsin beams as Quinn releases her from her gravitational tethers. "Lessons they're likely too deaf to hear..."
She flies up to the platform, just able to arrive on the opposite side of the First Worlder.
"Do you fly too, piper? For your sake, I hope you do. Now would be a good time to take wing, and leave for your World. Leave this one to us."
Malavarius: 9
Quinn: 7
Tsin: 13
Pemsworth: 27
Hektir: 18
Dawn piper: 17
Quinn's spell takes effect on Tsin, but as she approaches, she suddenly realizes the creature's terrible beauty and discovers herself blind, blood dripping from her eyes. Pems, approaching to use his own evil glare, finds himself afflicted the same way, the snowy landscape going black.
Keeping far enough away, Mal seems unaffected and his blast scorches the dawn piper, who cries out in pain. Hektir takes advantage and tears into the fey, grabbing him in a tight grip as its natural resistance protects it from what would otherwise likely have been fatal wounds.
The lithe creature twists away, however, stepping back from Hektir as its horrid aura seems to fade away.
DP: 33
Round 2
Quinn draws and loads his crossbow, shifting a square west in the process. "Smash that fey beastie, Hektir, smash it good!"
Round 3
Apetir wants to throw the fey to the ground, but realizes that it might not be the easiest thing right now. Instead, he tears into the fey, letting go so he might grab again after the onslaught.
to hit; (bite]
damage;
to hit; (claw + grab)
damage;
to hit; (claw + grab)
damage;
CMD to grapple
HP 63/63
Barkskin (1 hour)
Resinous Skin (1 hour)
Endure Elements (24 hours)
Resist Energy (1 hour)
ApeTir
AC: 19 (1 dex, 4 NA, 1 Deflection, 3 Barkskin)
Str: 23 (19 base + 4) (+6)
Dex: 12
Con: 16
Low Light Vision, Scent
Attack: +4 BAB +6 Str +1 Amulet =+11
Bite: +11, 1d6+7
Claws x2: +11, 1d4+7 + grab
Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft.
Speed 30 ft., Climb 30 ft.;
Staggered once more by Hektir's blows, the dawn pipersteps back once more. He lifts his flute to his lips and blows a horrid dissonance, the notes seeming to rip into Hektir's form.
As the cacphony ceases, the dawn piper's eyes roll into the back of his head and he collapses onto the top of the platform.
Reflex (vs. fey)
Resist Nature's Lure (Ex)
Starting at 4th level, a druid gains a +4 bonus on saving throws against the spell-like and supernatural abilities of fey.
Apetir staggers back, but is only mostly annoyed by the burst from the fey.
His next turn is spent angrily rending the witchyfey limb from limb.
As Hektir finishes off the fey creature, the floating boulders crash to the ground.
Tsin wipes at her eyes, keening at the loss of sight. She staggers backwards when she hears the boulders crashing down around her.
When the bleeding continues, she blinks furiously, while looking for the priest. "Quinn! It won't stop! I only looked at it! Then, nothing! Quiiiinn..."
When the bleeding has stopped, Tsin looks to the others. "The other piper. It needs to die. Can it do that again? Strike me blind? Can I avoid that in any way?"
She waves at the ape, and begins to fly back to the fountain fey.
Apetir galloops at Tsin, double taking at the fey's body parts, in his hands. He looks around for more foes or things of interest...
Perception
...and, if nothing, Apetir will climb down and go knucklewalking after Tsin.
Quin applies his healing arts to Tsin eyes.
"Stay close to me, Cayden will grant us special favor against these foes." Following the group back to the fountain and the watery fey, Quinn calls upon a blessing from Cayden.
"Lord, have mercy on us dry livered constituents of the greater intoxication. Show us the goggles of favor against these foes!"
Amongst the fey's body parts, you find a nice rapier, bracers and flute.
"Oh, would goggles help against the bleeding? Oh. You're using colorful language. I would have thanked you for the goggles, but please accept my thanks for your healing, nonetheless."
As her lids crust red with dried blood, Tsin looks the very picture of wrath. She barely paces herself on return to the puddle piper, making sure she doesn't distance herself from Quinn.
Tsin doesn't slow down when she gains the clearing, and offers no sparring words with the fey creature which will inevitably oppose her. She whispers for the piper to lie with the poppies.
Hektir:
Malavarius:
Pemsworth:
Quinn:
Tsin:
Antagonist:
The creature's seems ready as Tsin approaches, and it creates a blinding aura as she and the rest of you approach.
Round 1, Init 18
Apetir double moves to get closer.
Pems feels his eyes once more begin to bleed and he cries out, then curses and gathers his wits. Feeling useless, he instead casts his ward onto Tsin, granting her a +2 bonus to saves and an additional +1 to her AC from deflection!
Malavarius spins around scratching his head, wondering where his allies had gone off to when he was sure they had just been nearby fighting one another blasted fey. "Zeno? Zeno! Which way did the impatient louts go, hmm? Did you happen to notice?"
"What?! Why would they do that? Bah! Nevermind."
---
Malavarius comes into the clearing to see Pemsworth bleeding from the eyes and waving his hands about once more in obvious blindness. "What a mess! What a medieval mess!"
HP: 35/35
AC: 11 (11 T / 10 FF)
Fort: +2 // Ref: +3 // Will: +7 (+1 vs spells, SLAs, & Su abilities of evil arcane spellcasters)
Resist 5: Cold
Energy Absorption: 0/18 absorbed
Cantrips Prepared (4): detect magic, open/close, prestidigitation, read magic
Level 1 Prepared (3+2+1): feather fall [ ], hold portal [ ], protection from evil* [ ], magic weapon [ ], snapdragon fireworks [X] [ ]
Level 2 Prepared (3+2+1): glitterdust [ ] [ ], protection from arrows* [ ], resist energy [ ], spontaneous immolation [ ] [ ]
Level 3 Prepared (2+1+1): dispel magic* [ ] [ ], fireball [ ], haste [ ]
Protective Ward used: 1/8
Scorching Ray charges used: 35/42
Ongoing Effects:
Round 1
Maintaining his distance from the piper, Quinn fires a shot from his crossbow.
Hektir: 18
Malavarius: 18
Pemsworth: 17
Quinn: 15
Tsin: 15
Antagonist: 20
Hektir moves forward, the fey creature's terrible beauty surprisingly overwhelming him and his vision goes dark as blood begins to seep from his eyes, staining crimson trails down the fur of his face.
Mal, staying just out of range of its aura, blasts it with a scorching ray, drawing a cry of pain that is redoubled as the fey is hit by Quinn's crossbow bolt.
Pems wards Tsin on her approach toward the creature. Whether due to its magic or perhaps just the former butcher's apprentice's blind rage, the creature's aura seems to have no effect on her and she wades through the ankle-deep water, slamming the sword into the creature's chest.
It blinks a couple of times as blood pours from its mouth before slumping down, its suddenly dead weight pulling Tsin's sword arm down.
As it dies, the waters of the pool rush inward and fall upward in a sudden, violent rush, leaving behind an expanse of muddy earth.
At the same time, a pained voice cries out "no!" and a figure emerges from the triee line to fire a bolt into the butcher's back.
The filthy and ill-smelling humanoid's large pointed ears twitch at every sound as he drops the crossbow and pulls out a morningstar from the rope belt around its waist.
DP: 59
S:
Round 2, Init 15
AC = 21
HP = 44/56
Weapon Equipped = MW Cold Iron Longsword
Condition(s) = Blessed, Flight
The depth! Look at how the blade wasn't discouraged by bone! We must have more of that... As the bolt finds her back, Tsin spins around, surprised. She registers the presence of yet another likely fey creature.
She flies into flank with Hektir, as long as the ape can see through the blood.
Malavarius' jaw goes slack and Tsin hews her way through the dawn piper only to spin around and deliver a similarly devasting blow to the sneaky crossbowman. He looks from Tsin, then to Hektir, then to Zeno and remarks, "Zeno? Do you know, I think of the three of you might just be the least animal-like. Oh my."
Zeno gulps and nods from his perch in the bowl of Malavarius' winter hat.
He tries to send another beam of fire into the fray to aid Tsin, but the wand pulls to the right and the fiery lance vanishes harmlessly into the wood. "Bah! Worthless twig!"
HP: 35/35
AC: 11 (11 T / 10 FF)
Fort: +2 // Ref: +3 // Will: +7 (+1 vs spells, SLAs, & Su abilities of evil arcane spellcasters)
Resist 5: Cold
Energy Absorption: 0/18 absorbed
Cantrips Prepared (4): detect magic, open/close, prestidigitation, read magic
Level 1 Prepared (3+2+1): feather fall [ ], hold portal [ ], protection from evil* [ ], magic weapon [ ], snapdragon fireworks [X] [ ]
Level 2 Prepared (3+2+1): glitterdust [ ] [ ], protection from arrows* [ ], resist energy [ ], spontaneous immolation [ ] [ ]
Level 3 Prepared (2+1+1): dispel magic* [ ] [ ], fireball [ ], haste [ ]
Protective Ward used: 1/8
Scorching Ray charges used: 36/42
Ongoing Effects:
You actually don't think it's a fey, Tsin, but rather a spriggan, a nasty type of gnome offshoot. It has no damage reduction, but can change size, growing to Ape-tir stature.
Of course, that's all a moot point as you cut it down.
Pems blinks his eyes, suddenly aware that he was not as blind as he previously believed. He squints just in time to see Tsin carve through the enemies, even as quickly as they appear! He renews his ward on Tsin, deciding its best to stay on her good side.
Apetir roars and rubs his beautiful simian eyes with his large gorilla hands, bemoaning his lack of sight.
Knowing what happened to Tsin when she encountered it, he hopes the effect will soon pass.
What happened there, you big manly ape?
Tsin uses the tip of her captain's blade to inspect the underside of the wound. As her eyes clear from their peripheral hazing, she looks more closely at the creature. "Oh. It's more of a spriggan, much like the creature we dealt with in the witch's tower, I think. I still have its butcher's knife." The blade reinserts above the gash, and knifes through, revealing the true depth of her stroke. The right side of her lip curls upwards.
She searches over both the spriggan's and the piper's corpses.
Turning back, she notices the blood tinge around Hektir's eyes, and frowns. Misery loves company, it seems. They go for the eyes every time. Perhaps I'll find a fey worthy of amnesty one of these days.
"Keep your eyes peeled. Well, at least those of us without the bleed. These creatures can arise from the woods like ghosts passing through walls, it appears."
Tsin looks over the muddy pond, understanding the correlation between the piper and the fountain, and the piper and the mountain.
She flies back to the black swirling orb, expecting it to be gone.
Malavarius turns slowly to Pemsworth and Quinn, "Gentlemen, I recommend not shooting her in the back with a crossbow." He puffs stiffy to punctuate the thought, his beard and moustache dancing with the breath, then turns to Hektir. "Oh! Hektir? Hektir, lad, why are you so furry and bleeding from your eyes? What's happened?"
Around the muck, you find a score of large freshwater oysters. In addition, there's another fine rapier and pipe, as well as the spriggan's leather armor, fine morningstar, light crossbow and 9 bolts.
The black swirling orb remains in its spot.
When his eyes stop bleeding, Apetir washes the blood off his face in the cool water, a moment of serenity among the chaos of battle.
My eyes. My beautiful eyes...
Apetir watches and grows more angry, looking around for more fey. He roars.
* * *
While trying to simmer down some, Apetir will fish for oysters while others examine magics and admire Apetir's silverback'd glory.