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Sangkip flings an orb of acid at the giant hand, burning it for some damage.
And all sides, Pathfinders are battling the undeads. A small team managed to break through and start working on the portal directly. They must have have some success because a sudden shudder sweeps through the portal, which emanates outwards, affecting all the undeads. The giant hand, just about to crawl towards you, is suddenly dazed, and stands at its place unmoving.
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Standing at the border of the darkness, Chou and Sangkip works directly on the portal itself. Tapping upon their knowledge of magical devices, they decipher the barely visible runes on the stone circle, calling upon their power in unison to act on the rift directly.
A pulse of bright light pulse from the standing stones themselves, emanating inwards towards the portal. And it starts to close, but oh so slowly... The tentacles continue to reach out of the rift, flaying about desperately for targets.
Draklor reaches out his hand, sending a wave of divine energy into the area. This causes a ripple through the rift, blocking the waves of negative energy from it.
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Why do I feel like I am stuck in some strange time loop, repeating actions that I've already done again and again? What did Corona put in that cornbread?
Zarnel pats Draklor on the shoulder encouragingly as he slips past him, then ducks into the zone of darkness from the north edge. "Watch my back for me, please, my friend. I'm counting on you!"
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With the portal now closing and the shenanigans caused by it apparently weakening, Corona hustles up next to Zarnel and gives him a tap with her healing wand - at least, she's pretty sure it's Zarnel. Hard to see into the darkness and all. And even if it's not, she's pretty sure the giant creepy hand wouldn't appreciate the positive energy so it's a win either way!
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Zarnel first heals himself, then pushes his way past his teammates and move into the stone circle. Immediately, the tentacles reach out and despite their weakened state, managed to slam hard against his left thigh and coil tightly around it. It is as if he does not notice this at all. Instead, he summons divine blackfire and slices down on the giant hand, severing the not-so-little finger off completely! 575 takes a brief movement to recall the teachings of a master wrestler he encountered a number of years ago, before mirroring Zarnel. He ducks and weaves about the writhing tentacles, managing to avoid them completely, for now. Corona, seeing Zarnel hurt, urgently comes up behind him and lays some healing on him, bringing him almost back to whole.
The giant hand seems to sense that Zarnel is entangled, so it skitters away from him, then reaches a giant index finger to claw at 575. The nagaji, however, hops away from the attack easily.
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Chou smiles and walks around the circle, then in and towards the portal, rapier held in the 9th parry position.
She halts as soon as she's within reach of the undead hand, and extends her arm to strike at the fingers with a flick of her wrist. She doesn't so much as speak a word, but instead makes every move with precision, to be followed either as example or as warning.
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As Medda and Anok join your group of Pathfinders around the stone circle, she assists you with the binding ritual. Medda thrusts Ivvora’s hilt into the portal, calling on Vildeis for aid. The shadow rift shrinks and closes, releasing a massive shock wave that knocks the Pathfinders, the Twinhorn warriors, and Medda to the ground. A field of dark, rippling energy remains, suspended above the stone altar. As Medda reaches out to pick up Ivvora’s hilt—the already broken blade now spider-webbed with new cracks—a supernatural silence descends. Only the telepathic rage of some unseen menace cuts through the quiet. “You dare to shut me out?” it rages. “I see you, but I do not see her. Where is the dwarf woman, Ivvora, who fought me so long ago? Has her mortal body failed at last? Has the realm of the living at last lost its protector? Know this: when the long shadows reach out again, I will grasp them and claw my way back into your world to see your flesh devoured by my children.”
Sound returns to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, and Medda cautiously stands. “It seems that Eshimka still lives and has even left this foul scar on our world,” she declares. “If we are to believe its promises, the fiend will attack on the next winter solstice. If we are to survive, we must be ready. Nearly a millennium ago, Ivvora held the key to defeating Eshimka. By following her legends and discovering her fate, we may harness the same holy power that banished this fiend—and together end the beast entirely.
“When we set out, it would be the privilege of this following to have the Pathfinders at our side. But that is a trial for another day. Tonight, at last, we rest.”
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Celebration and preparation have filled the last two days. The Twinhorns are both relieved to have thwarted the villain Eshimka and resolved to help the following’s spiritual leader, Medda, retrace the paladin Ivvora’s millennium-old steps. After hours of considering and retelling ancient stories preserved by oral tradition, Medda gathers the Pathfinders.
“The holy warrior Ivvora came to us in pursuit of Eshimka, whom she vanquished and banished with the Twinhorns’ help. However, she would not rest for long, and she insisted on seeking out other evils in the area. At that time, the most fearsome threat was Grathatonhakis, an immense white dragon that lurked in the Tusk Mountains and would strike our camps. Ivvora learned what she could, left her dagger with us, and departed to slay the dragon. She never returned, and neither did the dragon. Exactly what transpired is unclear from our legends.”
Medda cradles the fragile remnants of Ivvora’s dagger. “This blade kept Eshimka at bay for so many generations, and now it is ready to fall apart. Ivvora held the key to defeating Eshimka, and by learning her fate or communing with her spirit where she fell, we might harness the same power. Then we shall not just reseal the shadow fiend but destroy it once and for all! From our tales we have learned where the wyrm Grathatonhakis laired. Let us set out together to learn what happened—and who might have taken the caves since.”
The trek is long and cold, taking the group first across the tundra and then into shadow of the frigid Tusk Mountains. As the trail winds around a frozen lake, the snap of a snare echoes over the ice, and a Pathfinder is whipped into air by a cleverly laid trap. Medda scowls and announces, “Pathfinders, we have kobolds. Keep within earshot and spread out. They aren’t just a threat; they may also be our best better to finding the dead dragon’s lair.”
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Chou is a terrible travel companion, as she spends most of the time sketching rough maps, jotting down 'mission requirements' and noting 'requirement verification notes.' She seems very concerned as she scribbles furiously, using her buckler as a firm writing surface, nearly walking clear off of a cliff more than once. "I dun know about this mission. Most of the time the Venture Captain gives us requirements before we go. This time we are learning what we have to do as we go. I don't know how to report this correctly... but I'll try!"
Her eyes go wide open and she leaves a large black splotch on the page as the Kobold trap triggers. "Uh oh..."
She quickly stows her journal, then begins stuffing alchemist's fire, acid, an alkali flask, and her pen into her cheek pouches. "Ok... so find kobowds, find dead dwagon's wair, talk to Ivowa's spiwit."
She slides her buckler back up her arm and puts her hand on her rapier hilt. "Weady."
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The tentacles continue to shrival as the rift continues to mend. Thus, when they reach to grasp Chou who stepped into the stone circle, she easily pulls herself free. Her attention is solely on the undead giant hand. She strikes with her rapier, but the thin blade is repulsed by its tough hide. Sangkip follows closely behind, ducking and weave through the forest of weakening tentacles. The giant hand fails to notice the vanara, giving Sangkip the opportunity to strike, severing the central extensor digitorm tendon. Almost immediately, the entire giant hand loses support and collapses onto the ground. It struggles weakly briefly, but soon stops moving completely.
With the threat taken down, Zarnel manages to pull himself out from the binds of the tentacles and the intrepid team steps back out of the stone circle. Just when Medda and Anok break strike down the undeads pestering them and join you...
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As the Pathfinders disperse and begin exploring the frozen terrain, your team descends a gentle slope toward a frozen lake to the west with the mountains rising to the north and east. As you approach from the southeast, even before you arrive, you can hear the loud voices of a heated argument coming from the shore of the lake.
You hasten your steps but still move cautiously to understand the commotion. Just as you cross a narrow frozen creek, the trees ahead to the lake thins sufficiently for you to make out what out happening. At the shore, a band of small reptilian humanoids are facing down a hauntingly beautiful women. Of the reptilians, one rather hulking one is riding astride what you can only describe as a slime-covered toad with two walrus-like tusks jutting from its upper jaw. The rider is well-armored, bearing a shield in one hand and a lance in the other. Behind his steed stands three more reptilians, dressed in simple studded leather and holding crossbows. Of the woman, flesh that seems made of wood and vibrant hair that resembles coniferous needles.
One of the particularly sharp-eyed reptilians similarly spot you through the trees, and it gesticulates agitatedly in your direction. All of them turn quickly to stare at the intruders. The reptilian rider first gestures at you, then point accusingly at the woman.
Rallying the other three reptilians, they turn in your direction and get ready to attack! The beautiful woman steps back, pressing herself against the bark of a tree, studying the scene warily.
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Sangkip had a few encounters with kobold monster wranglers before. From his experience, he recalls that they have good fortitude and reflexes but relatively poorer willpower. Dedicated to the service of their tribe, they can issue challenges to specific targets, increasing the damage they inflict at the cost of lowering their defences to other enemies. He also knows that they are general trained to work together as a team to be very effective in striking when opportunities open up . Also, they are trained to ride giant frog-like creatures like what this one is riding now.
In those encounters, he also tangled with a number of kobold snipers. Such artillery troops are trained to not only be effective up close , they are also schooled to fire more effectively into melee .
A very gung-ho Chou races through the snow towards the lake, leaving her team behind. The greenish lady, seeing combat at hand, retreats further, as if the tree could swallow her up.
The kobold rider whirls his lance overhead and yells out in his high-pitch yipping.
He then nudges his steed onto land, hissing at the leafy lady as he passes, but disregarding her for now.
Almost in unison, the three kobold snipers pull away from the edge of the lake and fire their loaded crossbows at Chou. Despite the trees in between, one of them aims true and his bolt punches into Chou's left thigh.
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"The dryad is trying to protect this place, sounds like. The kobolds are...well, being themselves. Just too close to her." The kitsune shares what he knows, then beseeches her for help in Sylvan, noting that he and his friends want to protect the forest as well. Though to those who can't understand, it feels like an uplifting speech.
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575 knows nothing of dryads, but does know that the cold of this place is not really to his liking!
But the kobolds at least he can understand, their language not far different from that of his own people.
It is way too cold
To be outside in the snow
I now long for warmth
He says, then calls out something else, in the same language as the kobolds, while moving up with, and just past, Chou, staying close to some nearby trees... cautious in case the mounted kobold gets a charging lane
"Though perhaps if they intend to cook us, as least it will be warm." He concedes, under his breath, a moment later.
Draklor have read about such slurks before, recalling that they do not have any special defences. As for the wrangler seeing its get-up, he can tell that he has good armor but not particularly tough nor have strong fighting abilities. The snipers are poorly armored but quick on their feet to compensate, quite accurate with their crossbows but are actually quite physically weak .
Corona attempts some faux-Draconic, which comes up sounding more like she has a bad cough. ]ooc]:)[/ooc] Zarnel, 575 and Sangkip dashes through snow-covered track, coming up behind Chou, who in turn whips out a flask and lobs at the frog and rider. She trips over the snow, however, and the flask lands short. Draklor, after inspiring the troops, turns his attention to the dryad, beseeching for her help.
Through the trees, the dryad gives Draklor a look, and nods her head. Waving her hands at the kobold wrangler, he suddenly looks cross-eyed and instead of nudging his steed forward to charge, he instead lifts his lance and stabs down at the slurk! The dryad quickly ducks behind the tree. The slurk roars in pain and confusion, but it knows enough not to retaliate its master. Instead, he looks for the nearest target and leaps towards Chou, tearing at her with its terrible teeth. Chou attempts to parry the strike, but the blow is powerful, and one teeth plunges deep into her shoulder, leaving her reeling.
The crossbow wielding kobolds, seeing their leader engaging Chou (somewhat), turn their attention to the rest of the party, firing their bolts at 575. Through the trees, only one manages to hit him, slicing a gash across his side.