Gilian again send Pebble to heal the frontline fighters
Solvistania stores the image of Chops stumbling into the others for future reference, even as she looses additional magical energy into the Librarian.
As Anang yells that normal weapons are all but useless, Sorok curses under his breath. He was never adept at magic and he knows he will be little help against this foe. But at least he could interfere with his enemies defense to aid Duncan. With that in mind the Dwarf rushes over the tangled mess of his allies and to the librarian.
Ilona charges into the fray, the chaos rendering it difficult to find her target as Requiem is met by falling stone.
Deftly she jumps clear of Chops to strike again, her attck more focused this time, her blade scoring a line along the undead channeler's side.
Reflex
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Librarian once again raises his arms, but this time in suplication. "Master, hear your servant! I am in dire need! Help me, I beg of you!" Perhaps a moment passes, and then strange rattle starts to echo in the central chamber. The bones, charred and broken in the middle of the circle of benches, are dancing now. They are seeking one another and bind themselves in unholy patterns, not meant by nature to exist. One by one, the bones meld into the form of huge hunchbacked four-armed skeleton, holding strange maces of ribcages upon elongated spines. The undead's eyes burn with sickly green light, as it watches Solvistania and Gilian, preparing to crush them.
Solvistania's eyes widen in fear as the undead monstrocity advances on her. Still she does not let panic rule her mind. She retreats from it slowly, while summoning her owm magical resources to ensnare, and trap the abomination.
Turning his head for a second, drawn by the sound behind the group, Duncan glances at the monster.
"Bwahahaha" the black bird cackles at the pile of tangled limbs on the ground. "That's going in the next report..."
"You are not helping." the other bird snaps, though whether her words are aimed at Muni or Chops is unclear.
Ragnar grunts and gives chops a sharp elbow to get him to pick his now massive weight up off him. He looks up at the librarian and the new monster trying to make sense out of what has just happened.
"Grandfather, what is that thing?"
"Uh....Sorry Rags." Chops apologizes to the Dorn giant before he once again reaches for the librarian, trying to embrace him in his giant arms.
"What is this thing?" says Gilian, trying to identify the spell cast
"If it's undead, it can be put down again"
With a mighty swing, red glowing sword in Duncan's hands strikes the Librarian.
While Gilian ponders, the little elemental raises his hand by his mistress, asking for a spell to deliver.
As Gilian casts the healing spell, the little elemental plunges back into the ground to try to reach the summoned squeleton.
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With a mighty swing, red glowing sword in Duncan's hands strikes the Librarian.
1d20+16
While Chops is holding the librarian in his iron-muscled arms, Duncan strikes at him with his sword and penetrates his iron skin right above where his dessicated heart should be. Undead wizard screams horribly and his last words echoes down the corridor and seemingly towards that strange moving room, seeking something. "Master. I have... perished..."
Seeing the end of Librarian, Duncan almost shivers for a second, but undaunted, he picks up his shield and turns around, taking a step and pushing himself in front of Gilian and Solvistania, politely apologizing.
Once she's cast her spell, Gilian will move back towards the rest of the group.
While Chops is holding the librarian in his iron-muscled arms, Duncan strikes at him with his sword and penetrates his iron skin right above where his dessicated heart should be. Undead wizard screams horribly and his last words echoes down the corridor and seemingly towards that strange moving room, seeking something. "Master. I have... perished..."
Chops, remembering what Ragnar usually does to corpses, grabs ahold of the librarians head in one giant sized palm and crushes the skull while ripping the head off of the shoulders. Cervical spinal bones can be seen trailing from the decapitated neck as Chops releases the librarian, letting it fall to the ground.
Ragnar picks himself up off the ground with a sigh. He watches Chops remove the Librarian's head and nods in grim satisfaction. Looking down at himself he finally lest his shoulders droop and takes a few moments to shake off the fatigue of the fight while he looks at the holes blasted through his coat and bear hide, and at the new, faintly scarred skin beneath.
"Gilian, you have my thanks yet again. I would not have survived that creature's magics without your touch."
He slips Sorrow back into her sheath, and reaches out for his spear, which politely jumps to his waiting hand. He closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them they glow with pale blue light.
Ragnar picks himself up off the ground with a sigh. He watches Chops remove the Librarian's head and nods in grim satisfaction. Looking down at himself he finally lest his shoulders droop and takes a few moments to shake off the fatigue of the fight while he looks at the holes blasted through his coat and bear hide, and at the new, faintly scarred skin beneath.
"Gilian, you have my thanks yet again. I would not have survived that creature's magics without your touch."
"You're welcome, I'm just trying to patch up things as fast as I can"
Gilian notes the ghastly wounds still visible on Ragnar and Chops: "Time to stop and patch up before going. Who's still injured?"
Solvistania glances around the group and makes sure there are no additiona enemies laying in wait. Once she is satisfied, she waits until Durathoin has finished his grisly work, and then she waves her hand in his direction, and he is instantly cleaned off.
Then she is in his arms, rewarding him for a job well done...
Anang, never one to relax much, slips to the end of the hallway to look around while the group collects itself and benefits from Gilian's ministrations.
"See to everyone else first. I'll keep a look out."
Gilian notes the ghastly wounds still visible on Ragnar
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While Chops is holding the librarian in his iron-muscled arms, Duncan strikes at him with his sword and penetrates his iron skin right above where his dessicated heart should be. Undead wizard screams horribly and his last words echoes down the corridor and seemingly towards that strange moving room, seeking something. "Master. I have... perished..."Chops, remembering what Ragnar usually does to corpses, grabs ahold of the librarians head in one giant sized palm and crushes the skull while ripping the head off of the shoulders. Cervical spinal bones can be seen trailing from the decapitated neck as Chops releases the librarian, letting it fall to the ground.
Chops' huge hand bends the silver mask until it simply caves in to the pressure and the delicate golden links of the coif break while pressed to the breaking skull.
Ragnar begins to reach out to stop Chops as he finishes mangling the corpse of the Librarian, but realizes it is simply too late and sighs.
"Sometimes I wonder if fate is simply laughing at us." he says shaking his head and trudging down the hall to the fallen body of the dwarf.
When he arrives he lets go of his spear, leaving it to hang in the air next to him, picks up the corpse of the dwarf by the collar around his neck, and swings Sorrow down in an almost casual motion that leaves the head rolling down the hall. A good hard shake pops the stump of the neck out of the collar, the body thumping to the floor with a wet smack.
He holds the collar up, letting it spin gently as he looks at it.
"Solvistania, when you are finished, this may interest you."
"Looks clear this way." Anang says coming back on silent feet. "Something about this place is... stirring... things I'd rather keep tightly controlled. I am afraid I may become a danger to you all. It may be nothing, but after what happened at the soldier's camp, I would rather be safe than sorry. I will look around on my own and mark anything of interest that I find with this."
He opens a small earthenware jar and dips his fingers in it, then wipes them on the wall leaving a pale green streak that smells faintly of wildflowers.
"Good hunting." he says, and slips down the hall toward the lift.
Solvistania glances around the group and makes sure there are no additiona enemies laying in wait. Once she is satisfied, she waits until Durathoin has finished his grisly work, and then she waves her hand in his direction, and he is instantly cleaned off.
Then she is in his arms, rewarding him for a job well done...
Chops hosts the small elorg woman in his huge arms and holds her aloft as she rewards him.
Solvistania basks in the warmth of Durathoin's embrace. She feels right, feels complete in his embrace. She enjoys his heat, and with some regret, pulls herself away to examine the items on the Librarians body. Her gaze roams over his silver mask and the goldem coif...wait, what happened here?...they were...OH NO...
Solvistania's face drains of all color as she realizes the precious, nay irreplaceable items were broken and rendered completely useless. Even now, she could sense the powerful magicks that were bound to both mask and coif were fading away. She picks up the items in her slender hands, fingering the imprints left by handprints. Dworg handprints. Oh yes, she knew those prints well, as surely as she knew her own.
Her eyes turned to stare at Chops, all warmth fleeing from her frosty gaze. She points at him, holding aloft the torn mask and coif, and a keening wail emerges from her mouth, "HOW COULD YOU? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE? THOSE WERE PRICELESS!"
Chops stares at Solvistania for a second, dumbfounded at her rage. He looks at the mask in her hands. What the hell is she talking about. "What on earth do you mean? What the hell are you going to do with a damn mask worn by an undead fell thing?"
Solvistania is struck speecless by his lack of understanding. How could he? How could he be so loving and yet so careless at the same time. She takes a deep breath, and resists the urge to flail at him with cutting words, "This mask was imbued with powerful magics! If I could have unlocked its secrets, the power I could have gained...Durathoin, THE POWER, now LOST!"
"If it was so why was it so damn flimsy? I think you're blowing this out of proportion!"
"I am not blowing this out of proportion, and as for things being powerful, and yet flimsy, that would describe me, wouldn't you say?" Her eyes narrow dangerously on that last remark.
"I don't see you breaking apart in my hands! Quite the contrary in fact. And it's just a stupid mask. Didn't do the librarian no good, did it!
"Just a stupid mask? No Durathoin, trust me when I say it was NOT just a mask. That mask may have been the source of his power, and he very nearly ended your life!"
"The last thing I want to do is interfere, but the damage is done. And this wretch had a Master, probably someone inside this city, maybe someone who made all these fell. Who knows, maybe they have a whole hierarchy here. Whose librarian was he? We should search this level quickly and move on. That Master is now more than aware of our presence, and we might find a ready opposition elsewhere."
Still holding the sword in his hand, Duncan starts examining the corridor they are in.
"In the future, Ragnar says with a hand on the huge dwarg's elbow, "allow me to dispose of the corpses. It is my... station. Gathering them for me will suffice."
As the pair continue to argue with one another Sorok's patience begin to wear thin until he turns and yells at them both.
Ye canno' undo wha's already been done. Fightin' over it's just wha' the Dark One'd want ye tae do. Solvistania, Chops couldn' o' known what he were doin, probly did it cause he thought it were dangerous te yerself. Chops, next time try thinkin' a bit afore you smash somethin'.
"Yep, best to let Ragnar deal with the dead stuff. That way, if somethin' gets broke all the shreiking and wailing gets aimed at him, 'stead of you." Muni says landing on Chops' shoulder. "He's got a certain amount of experience with that sorta thing.
He holds the collar up, letting it spin gently as he looks at it.
"Solvistania, when you are finished, this may interest you."
Solvistania shoots one final glare at Sorok and Chops, before she takes the collar in her hands. At least Durathoin did not touch this before I was able to handle it. She examines the collar, and looks for clues as to its function.
Ragnar moves away from the fuming sorceress and closer to Ilona, saying nothing, simply seeking the comfort of her presence. He glances back to Solvistania and Chops, taking in her cold anger and his confused indignation. His brows furrow and the whispers around him grow a bit louder. He ignores them, looks again to Ilona and pulls his hood a little deeper around his face.
The whisper of a confused young girl slips into your mind.
"Why were you able to strike the foe when I could not? Why was I not strong enough?"
Duncan gives in thoughts a smile equivalent