Nightflier's Midnight Game Thread

Game Master nightflier

1d20+10

Oops, hit reply instead of edit

Ragnar scarcely reacts the the horrors before him. Such incessant noises are nothing new nor particularly frightening to him. He seems about to simply ask what the others think about the strange creatures when Chops leaps forth with typical bravado.

"You really are going to get yourself killed one of these days." the big Dorn says just loud enough to carry over the noise before sighing and following his companion towards the creatures.

The ghost-torches spread out to give fuller illumination of their surroundings, just in case the disgusting things aren't alone.

With a determined look, Ragnar thrusts his spear at the nearest screaming monster.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

1d8 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

"Awck! Outa my way! Women and birds first! Just run and let it eat the dwarf!

With no pretense at all, the great Vigdiri spirit guide flaps away like more of a chicken than a raven...

1d100 ⇒ 53

...but somehow manages to get himself turned around in the tunnel and ends up flying directly into the path of the flapping monstrosities.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

"Discretion and valor, you know." the other bird gulps before bursting into the air and following Muni...

1d100 ⇒ 11

...at least until Muni gets confused and begins flying right toward the screaming things.

"Muni! Don't go that... oh nevermind...go ahead and get yourself eaten again...idiot.

Walking with measured steps, big Dorn enters the fray like other man enter their bedchambers. With one push of his spear, he impales the lung that Chops bruised. The undead thing screams and flaps on the tip of Ragnar's spear, pulling itself in the air, but it looks close to the second death.

Meanwhile, ghostly torchlights float down the tunnel, revealing two more monstrosities approaching. They look like hearts, with all the veins and arteries attached, black and rotten, slowly floating in the air and... beating... beating so slowly...

1d20+3

"Awck! Outa my way! Women and birds first! Just run and let it eat the dwarf!

+1 FP for Muni for this one! And roll d100 for both ravens. Below 50 they fly away from the lungs. Above 50, towards them.

+1 FP for Muni for this one! And roll d100 for both ravens. Below 50 they fly away from the lungs. Above 50, towards them.

Edited their initial reactions to reflect the die rolls.

Solvi, you failed the Save. You are now Panicked, if Ilona doesn't do something. Panicked: A panicked creature must drop anything it
holds and flee at top speed from the source of its fear, as well
as any other dangers it encounters, along a random path.
It can’t take any other actions. Roll d100. Below 50 you run away from the lungs. Above 50, towards them, if someone doesn't catch you. Let's wait for Ilona to resolve this.

1d100 ⇒ 83 Heh...figures.

Solvistania feels the darkness closing in on her, and spins around on her feet, a feeling of disorientation overwhelming her, she starts running and seeing Durathoin runs towards him, and then past him, calling out "This way...love!"

Solvistania is pretty much going to have to try to pass Ragnar, so...

AoO grab against Solvi's CMD

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

The big dorn lets go of his spear, which hovers dutifully next to him, and catches Solvistania around her tiny waist as she tries to move past.

"This is becoming a recurring theme..."

Ragnar transfers the struggling sorceress to a one-armed grip and tries to point her back towards the rest of the group.

"Anvinder, remind me to ask your grandfather about that spell he mentioned that gives you extra arms."

Will Save:1d20 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 5 + 4 = 22
Still furious about his recent failure to aid in the combat Sorok grits his teeth and moves toward the wailing bird like monstrosities coming from the tunnel mines. He moves past Ragnar to stand alongside Chops and swings at the next closest creature.
Attack:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Damage:1d10 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

Sorok strikes at the shrieker, but the thing flaps its bloody wings and evades the axe. Solvi struggles impotently in Ragnar's hold and tries to run in the direction opposite to him. At the same time, Muni flies over Ragnar's head, flying straight between three lungs. In a blink of the eye, a bird maddened by fear reaches two black hearts and tries to fly past them, but the hearts beat slowly... so slowly... and the invisible wave of entropy washes over Muni, causing him to fumble in flight for an instant. He feels the dark energy of the grave tugging at him. Negative energy pulse, Will save DC15 for half. 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (1, 4) + 2 = 7

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
1d100 ⇒ 33

Crap!

Overcome with terror torn from dreams and the safety of Ragna's embrace Ilona's reaction is to get herself as far from the horrific aberrationsa as possible, clutching Requiem as she does.

Will save DC15 for half.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Ohblackpussf&*%bloodyshitassOUCH!"

Muni continues his flight away from his master, passing the black flying hearts, only to fly almost straight at another undead disgusting think. A brain, dragging nerves all in tangle flies at man's height from the ground and veritable swarm of clawed hands run on the blackened fingers beneath him. Muni's moment of terror quickly passes and he regains control of himself.

Waiting for Gilian's actions. Then I'll roll initiatives.

Gilian will save 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Gilan stands by Duncan as she gets up. "No time to don your armor, this will have to suffice."

Putting a hand on his chest, she quickly casts a spell and a shimmering armor appears on the knight.

Mage armor on Duncan for +4 AC

From where Pebble is, on the other side of the tunnel, he may be out of range of the fear ability. In case he is not, here is the Will save 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

From where he stands, Pebble sees Ilona coming to him, lost in her fear. Gently, as ragnar has done previously, he tries to catch her to prevent her from running in the dark but completely misjudge his movement.

Grab 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 4 + 1 = 7

Feeling the magical forces protecting him, Duncan drops the plate and reaches for Ilona. grab1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Initiative order:
Hearts
Great Crawling Claw Swarm
Solvi
Gil
Duncan
Brain
Ilona
Ragnar
Lungs
Chops

The Fear effect lasted only one round, so those affected are now back to normal, until the next keening of the lungs.

Heart are now behind the lungs, but not near enough to be attacked by those in front. They beat again and the wave of invisible force washes over the lungs and Chops, Sorok and Ragnar as well...

2d6 + 2 ⇒ (1, 4) + 2 = 7

Undead lungs seem to be healed, but the dread coldness of the grave weakens the living. Will save DC15 for half

As if guided by some intelligent design, the crawling hands swarm over the dwarf, completely ignoring the other two warriors, although even the sight of them is enough to cause nausea in those who look at their aberrant spasms that propel them over the floor and through the air as they hurl themselves at the dwarf, their nails scratching Sorok's armor...

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 293d6 + 3 ⇒ (1, 3, 6) + 3 = 13

Chops, Sorok and Ragnar, Fort DC 15 or be Nauseated.

Roll to confirm 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 213d6 + 3 ⇒ (1, 6, 1) + 3 = 11

Chops, Sorok and Ragnar, Fort DC 15 or be Nauseated.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

The death-speaker has spent more than a century harvesting bones from the rotting dead to make the tools needed to live. His stomach long ago hardened against such things and his stomach has been empty for as long as anyone here has seen. These foul creatures do not phase him.

Will save DC15 for half

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

He does wince at the malevolent energy pouring off the severed heart, though.

Gently releasing Ilona from his arms once he was certain that she will not start running again, Duncan straps on his shield and while doing so says: "I thank you, lady Gilian", with a polite nod and aims his crossbow at the flying lungs.

1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 - 4 = 6

Looking at the arrow miss, Duncan ponders about the strange noise the lungs create and how, though unpleasant, it does not enerve him one bit. Seeing the lungs and the dark hearts behind them, Duncan tries to remember if he had read or heard anything about such creations.

Knowledge(shadow)1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Solvistania shakes off the fear effects and wriggles out of Ragnar’s grasp. She peers down the tunnel, and sees the hearts controlling the swarm of claws. Guessing they are the intelligence, she calls out, ”The hearts are the mind behind this, destroy them!”

She draws Sky’tors bow and nocks an arrow, one of the precious clouded steel arrows, and lets it fly at the closest heart…

Icewood Bow 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 1 = 27 MW arrow
Damage 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Will against damage 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Will against nausea 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Chops grits his teeth as he resists the beating hearts throb, and swallows at the sight of the hands, but maintains his composure.

Initiative order:

Hearts
Great Crawling Claw Swarm
Solvi
Gil
Duncan
Brain
Ilona
Ragnar
Lungs
Chops

Sorok and Lyj are missing from the list

nightflier wrote:

Initiative order:

Hearts
Great Crawling Claw Swarm
Solvi
Gil
Duncan
Brain
Ilona
Ragnar
Lungs
Chops

Sorok and Lyj are missing from the list

My bad for Sorok. Lyj is absent because this is happening while he was exploring the further tunnels. New order:

Solvistania shakes off the fear effects and wriggles out of Ragnar’s grasp. She peers down the tunnel, and sees the hearts controlling the swarm of claws. Guessing they are the intelligence, she calls out, ”The hearts are the mind behind this, destroy them!”

She draws Sky’tors bow and nocks an arrow, one of the precious clouded steel arrows, and lets it fly at the closest heart…

Icewood Bow 1d20+7+1 MW arrow
Damage 1d8+6

Solvi's arrow penetrates one heart, and the thing drops from the air just for instance, but then rises again and edges a bit closer to the other one.

Gently releasing Ilona from his arms once he was certain that she will not start running again, Duncan straps on his shield and while doing so says: "I thank you, lady Gilian", with a polite nod and aims his crossbow at the flying lungs.

1d20+4-4

Looking at the arrow miss, Duncan ponders about the strange noise the lungs create and how, though unpleasant, it does not enerve him one bit. Seeing the lungs and the dark hearts behind them, Duncan tries to remember if he had read or heard anything about such creations.

Knowledge(shadow)1d20+6

"Lady Solvistania, it is not the hearts that are the mind behind this, but... the mind. They all function like a part of an undead organism. Lungs bring fear, hands attack, hearts heal, and there is a brain somewhere behind them, directing them all. Let's shoot the hearts down first, so they stop healing everybody else. Hope the brain can't control us or something like that."

"If we can get the heart out of the equation, then it'll stop healing them. Right?"

"Lady Solvistania, it is not the hearts that are the mind behind this, but... the mind. They all function like a part of an undead organism. Lungs bring fear, hands attack, hearts heal, and there is a brain somewhere behind them, directing them all. Let's shoot the hearts down first, so they stop healing everybody else. Hope the brain can't control us or something like that."

"Yes, Duncan, you are correct. The brain has not shown itself yet, so watch out for it."

She scans the tunnel, gazing up towards the ceiling, looking for any traces of the brain controlling the other components...

Perception 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

"If we can get the heart out of the equation, then it'll stop healing them. Right?"

"Yes, beloved."

Gilian uses her sling and aims for the same heart.

Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22, damage 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2

The brain appears slowly around the bend in the tunnel. Almost at the same moment, all of you feel something like cold finger scratching on the surface of your brains, fleeting, almost painful. And then, Duncan seems to freeze. His eyes become vacant and his arms become limp. Duncan, Will save DC 15

Gilian uses her sling and aims for the same heart.

Attack 1d20+4, damage 1d3-1

Perhaps the pebble shot from her sling is small, just like her, but it is equally deadly. The black heart bursts into the shower of stench and bile.

Will save 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Fighting of the cold sensation, and raising his weapon up focusing his gaze once more, Duncan feels a surge of power, it is coming from, he yells and the cave rings with his clear and mighty voice, not entirely certain where the words are coming from:"I AM A KNIGHT AND A DRAGON! I WILL NOT BE CONTROLLED" It appears for a second that the jewel in the hilt of his sword pulsates crimson red.

Duncan seems to recover from whatever ailed him, but Sorok is engulfed in hundreds of severed human hands, clawing and scratching him.

Those next to Sorok may attack the swarm without fear of hurting him. It's large enough. Chops, hold your action until Lungs do their thing. The rest of you are free to act.

"We need to regroup!" Ragnar snarls. "Pull back behind Sorok. Duncan, help keep those things from getting past him. I'll get him out of those hands and try to hold them back."

"Hey, I was, uh, scouting, and totally not screaming like a scared little girl, and there's a big ol' brain crawling across the ground right around the corner!"

Muni says quickly as he flies back into view and past the flapping lungs to a safer place near the group.

"So, uh, now that I'm back from my brave and heroic scouting mission, who needs a little bird flavored help?"

Aid Another to whoever needs it, assuming it's something Muni can help with.

Ragnar moves back down the hall past Sorok and the swarm of claws, still carrying Solvistania, trying to avoid the swarm's clutches and dragging the dwarf out of the grasping pile as he goes.

Move action, picking up an unresisting object (Sorok) as a free action as I pass. This encumbers me slightly but I have plenty of Drag weight and am only pulling him about 10 feet after I add him to my inventory. Sorok needs to make a save against Ragnar's fear aura. (sorry)

Dropping the dwarf about ten feet back from where he started out and setting Solvistania down behind him a bit more gracefully, Ragnar turns back to the advancing undead horde and raises his hands. "A little help, Eyvindr."

cast Fell Forbiddance on the squares just in front of Sorok. The hall is now blocked to Undead unless they pass a DC 17 will save.

The spirit-flames roll forth from around the Death-Speaker passing harmlessly through the living and flaring up just in front of the pile of claws creating a flickering transparent barrier of fire and the silhouettes of ghostly children standing hand in hand blocking the path. Their angry shouts echo from nowhere and everywhere as they stick their tongues out at the disembodied organs and yell at them to go away. In their midst, Ragnar's fallen brother looks back over his shoulder and nods at the group before hefting his ethereal sword and shield and standing like a rock before the advancing horrors. The dead fell hunter would trap his prey again this day.

Hugi rights herself and tisks at her own failure to resist such petty horrors, compared to what she has seen before.

Oh well. I guess it's been a while, and it's always difficult getting into the swing of a fresh adventure."

Seeing Ilona begining to come out of her own panicked state, the raven wings down. "Time to return, Miss Ilona. Ragnar needs you."

Aid another to whatever it is Ilona decides to do this round.

Ok so Solvi took her action after Ragnar, since he had been grappling her, she would have attacked the heart with her bow after Ragnar's actions. This will be her next action.

Solvistania feels...no senses the alien intelligence of the Fell brain creature, and waits for her opportunity to strike. Once she sees the brain trying to affect Duncan, she softly whispers an arcane phrase and her hand glows softly with an eldritch light. Once she sees the brain, she points at it and two glowing missiles streak unerringly at it.

Cast Magic Missile at the brain.
Damage 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (2, 2) + 2 = 6

Fort save1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Will Save1d20 + 5 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 5 + 4 = 24

As Sorok is blasted by the dark energies of the fell body, he grits his teeth in pain but seems to be largely unfazed by the attack. Only to a moment later be assaulted by the swarm of writhing, twitching body parts which would have nauseated a weaker warrior but after seeing many deaths on the field of battle where the bodies of the fallen twitch and writhe, trying with the last bits of energy they have to stay alive, Sorok is unaffected by the swarm's sickening movements.

As he's dragged back out of the mess he sputters slightly "What th'!

will save 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

"Ach. Alright, tha's far enough." Getting his feet under him and taking a moment to assess the situation, Sorok's eyes widen as the strange spirit wall flares up in front of him. "By tha Mother! D'you do anything that don't make th' beard bristle?"

Moving forward to just behind the spirit fires, Sorok looks through it at the swarm behind, scratching his beard in thought.

"So this'll hold 'em back? What'll it do t'us?"

"So this'll hold 'em back? What'll it do t'us?"

"Nothing. The children will not harm us."

"Right. Well how 'bout I just stay right here an' add a little metal and muscle t'... whatever the blazes tha' is."

Hold action to attack anything that makes it through the wall.

Nodding towards Hugi, Ilona takes in the situation, seeing Dungan shrugging off the will of the malevolent creature. She dashes forward to support Ragnar, her voice ringing out, filling the air with a rant of sheer defiance, her voice filling the hearts of her friends, crowding out fear.

Move forward 30' and casting Joyful noise everyone gains +4 against fear effects

"C'mon you worthless bits of carrion, we'll kill you as many times as we need to!"

Once again, the grisly lungs scream and the wave of despair washes over you...

Ragnar's lips twitch upward as his paramour cries her defiance into the hearts of her companions. With extremely uncharacteristic amusement he raises his eyebrow at her, transforming his face from it's usual stern, shadowed countenance to a hearty and energetic young man. A dornish warrior-prince on the battlements of some glorious tale. "Nice of you to join us."

1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31

Ragnar sighs like an indulgent older brother rolling his eyes at the screeching thing. A soft questioning voice seems to whisper something through the crackle of the spirit-flames, a pair of glowing eyes turning toward the big northman. He glances down and chuckles. "No Girti, it is not nearly so loud as you are. Don't worry, you are by far more obnoxious. Your throne is safe." He laughs again while moving slightly as if a small person had swung something at him. He glances warmly at Ilona before turning back to apparition and replying "Well you did ask."

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Watching Ragnar's strange behavior the newer Vigdir tilts it's head in thought, ignoring the unearthly cries.

"Interesting... Muni, do you see this?"

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"What? What am I lookin' ohbleedingpussbucketface!"

In a burst of feathers the bird is nearly knocked into a panicked tail spin, bouncing off the wall in his efforts to simply be anywhere else but near the horrible noise.

"I, uh, scouting! Yeah! Things to...I... gotta.. bye!"

Once again completely ignoring the sound, Duncan lowers the crossbow annd draws the shimmering blade from the sheath, ready to go to the first lines.