Muirkhom pulls out the torch, and flicks it on. Testing the flame, he realises he's not exactly going to be scorching that thing like...where did all that fire come from anyway? Did Kreza do that?
Not important. He wouldn't have gotten it if it wasn't useful. Taking cover by the building, he turns it back off and looks about for somewhere he could get some good use out of it. Muirkhom looks over the carnage for a hint of what Midas was thinking.
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The three high families were divided by bureaucracy only. We were all only a few intermarriages away from becoming a cohesive whole. Genealogy aside, they were all uppity prudes, paranoid schizophrenics, uncontrollable narcissists and magic users. So run-of-the-mill dark elves. Each family however, liked to cultivate it's own branch of magic, one of their many preening affectations. One was obsessed with demonic pacts, another with psionics and mind-rending. Krenin's "family", as it were, always partook in the summoning of elementals. Specific parts of the walls and grounds may still be alive, or at least, only dormant. If they can be awoken, it should make for a much more pleasant stay here.
A rather unfortunate aside: A generation or two ago, the excessive fervor towards of maintaining the purity of the family bloodlines combined horribly with the magical delvings. That is to say, the genetic flaws combined with fell magicks to cause nearly an entire generation of dark elves to be born twisted and malformed, crudely broken rather than elegantly insane. They were shunned, their latent magic bound, and trapped below the grounds. The new children were born with carefully mixed blood, then sent to garner additional "diversity in the stock". Hence, Krenin's very unofficial role as wandering gigolo and hitchhiker.
Those creatures wandering the estate? Krenin's second cousins, of course.
We cannot let up the assault. Imazael says That ritual is too powerful to pass up She draws her bowstring back again.
This time, the arc travels a little to high, and one of Amelina's many eyes spot the group firing upon her. Imazael notices this too, and gives the "haul ass" signal to the group, who begin repositioning themselves away from Amelina's sight
Parts of reality freeze like crystal as the rest pushes through the cracks like dough through a shaped piping bag.
Imazael’s squad checks through their hidden equipment with a few thoughtful taps of their clothes. With a sigh, Filaurel pulls a second compact crossbow from her other stocking, this one constructed in ebony. She doesn’t even consider offering it to the lady. The second volley is roughly as effective as the last. Munitions pepper the creature’s flank as it writhes.
After Kyrillosr’s fires catch, Myxis and the adze tear into the lone spriggan, leaving it in sizzling ribbons.
It’s becoming clear to the rest of the party that the massive creature has something against fire. She slams her tail end down onto her own minions a huge cloud of ash is kicked up into the air, smothering the fire and decreasing visibility.
Pimrin and Desmorlin have scaled the jagged branches of the creature, only to come across another of the spriggans. They brace themselves against Amalina’s mane of branches as they exchange attacks with the spriggan. Pimrin takes a solid drubbing, and their attacks aren’t doing much. They shift into a fighting retreat, headed toward the far side of the massive creature.
Amalina turns to survey the area, watching for more disturbances. She eyes Imazael's squad, but there's some distance to cover, and many tiny creatures in the way. After pounding out the fire, she twists, swinging her tail. Hivroth and Shennenna scramble over the rubble, but they may not escape the swinging tail. Karudurk motions the other villagers to continue retreating, and turns to help the fatally injured Shennenna.
If another, less devoted individual was asked by their god to attract the attention of a giant death caterpillar, they might start questioning their faith and willingness to follow a god that obviously intends that they do something liable to end in a gruesome, painful death.
Muirkhom has no such questions. He gives a prayer for success over the gold, and charges out with the pot lid to provide a meagre defence, and the torch cranked as far as he can possibly get it to go.
Over-cranked torch in hand, he runs like a gold-crazed centaur pursuing a gilded carriage. If Midas wanted him to be the most attention grabbing thing in the area, he would do it, and he'd do it as long as he could.
"Stay close everyone. They'll take us out one by one if they get the chance. Evidently the bindings down below are broken, someone more talented than me will need to those before they'll leave this place. Now, a few drops of an heir's blood should be enough to wake the walls . Whether they'll welcome us after that remains to be seen. Mumei, keep an eye out for us would you? I'm not liking the look of that swarm..."
"Looks like we can get in close on the far side if we're quiet." Mumei points out a bare area of tower wall. "If something goes wrong, though, we could easily get surrounded."
Having seen the worm's reaction to fire, Kyrillosr now realized what caused its aggression.
Surveying the scene, Kyrillosr realized that an unusually quiet Muirkhom was running across the scene. What was he thinking this time?
Kyrillosr shoots a flaming arrow to the other direction, which would hopefully distract the worm from attacking Muirkhom. He grimaced as he felt himself set on fire once again.
Imazael's eyes flash green, pupils turning to slits as she switches to the infravision of vampires. Intended for the dark environments vampires inhabit, but it may be enough to identify Amelina's form in the dust cloud.
and points her our to the others, unleashing another volley at her.
Amalina roars at this third volley, the ground shaking with the horrible sound. She’s seeping white ichor from her wounds as she plows into Hivroth, two of the fell spriggans, and Karudurk, who is defending the wounded Shennenna. The three villagers yet stand, but none of them could take another hit like that. Hivroth's shackle has also broken, and now there are two fell Spriggans climbing out from between branches to accost the grievously wounded triad.
Imazael over-reaches, and looses her footing in the loose ash, sliding down her coveted high ground and away from her well-tended line of ranged forces. She lands at the base of the tower’s rubble, next to the tower’s cracked bell. One of the fell spriggans from the far side of the bloodmoon caterpillar stilts forward to take advantage of the supine attacker. He’s just within Reach, which gives her some options.
In the distance, Ephorus and Myxis close on another spriggan, wary, but confident. Then, Pimrin drops down on top of the creature, Desmorlin not far behind. The four of them are able to keep the thing busy, hacking away at its tough, wooden hide.
Then, Muirkohm sets off a massive ball of fire before turning to run. The behemoth caterpillar rears up, ready to charge, when a flaming arrow passes by its compound eye. The creature hesitates, giving Muirkohm a massive head start as he tears off through the ankle-deep ash toward the treeline. The shortest distance to the treeline lies behind a low bluff the dwarf will need to climb, but the flatter route leaves him exposed the ash is a huge obstacle in this case, dragging on Muirkohm’s legs and hiding the contour of the ground.. Finally, Muirkohm can cut behind the rubble of the castle, and hope the mess will slow the thing down, but that’s the direction Umlur took Belnip and their massive meat bags.
Meanwhile, Amalina zeroes in on Kyrillosr, just out of Reach, clearly in the process of making a snap decision before chasing Muirkohm. Black, reeking death drips from her mandibles.
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Kyrillosr adopts hippocampus form once more in order to outrun Amalina, hoping he can escape while the caterpillar is distracted by the fire. He galloped as quickly as he could away from the caterpillar, looking for somewhere he might be able to hide and from which he could shoot at it safely.
Kyrillosr can’t stay focused. His mind strays to the last time he saw something so large. To his horror, his body grows. A massive, deep-ocean bipedal reptile balloons out of the merfolk’s spindly frame. Leviathan are known to absorb any but the most Devastating attacks, discharge a Messy breath weapon on a Nearby target which Ignores armor, knock down even Huge foes in the Area within Reach with a Forceful whip of their tails, and draw the attention of local authorities.
From this perspective, Kyrillozard sees the whole of the battle, and how horrifically desperate their position is. Amalina is barely winded, and people are clinging to life by threads. This form is unstable, but an absolute windfall if he can maintain it. Muirkohm’s plan could save everyone, but it’s potentially suicidal. He does, however, also see a foxhole in the grey blanket of ash.
The fell spriggan falls on her, and she twirls back momentarily, before moving back in and sweeping it's legs, hoping to send it sprawling.
While it is down for a moment, she takes the opportunity to drive the dagger into the vital spot just below it's neck.
and falls back to her group's snipers perch, away from Amalina.
Mid-gallop, Kyrillosr realizes that his gallops were in actuality slithers, and that he was in the form of the leviathan of which he had just been thinking.
Despite his instinct to dive into the foxhole, he realizes that this form might be his only chance to hinder the enormous caterpillar. Seizing the opportunity presented by the form in which he found himself, he tries to concentrate on maintaining it before his time as a leviathan is expended.
"Here goes nothing."
still standing? after a blow to the neck? these are some intense spriggans Imazael thinks as the beast gets up, and she twirls her dagger to drive it into the monsters belly.
Taking advantage of Kyrillosr’s pause for concentration, Amelina turns and begins to charge after Muirkohm. Tons of necrotic fungus swing through the air, as the creature cantilevers over her rear and slams into the ruin of the church steeple. Amelina threads herself between the critically injured and Imazael’s struggle with the dying spriggan, who reaches out to grab a stray branch and hauls a surprised dhampir mistress up into the dense branches of the Bloodmoon Ceterpillar’s crown, where a second spriggan is waiting.
It leaves them injured, but Pimrin, Ephorus, Desmorlin and Myxis tear their spriggan to sizzling ribbons, too occupied to be much more than vaguely aware of the castle-crashing beasts that fight above. They’re finding that the spriggans are festooned with bits of metal, semi-precious stones, and baubles, and they pocket what goodies they can carry.
Karudurk, Hivroth, and Shennanna are not having so much luck with the two spriggans they’ve encountered. Karudurk, bellowing with futile rage, swings the Clapper over his head and smashes one of the spriggan’s legs, but the creature’s arm crashes into his skull and he falls limp to the ashen ground. Shennanna leaps onto the passing monstrosity’s back, hoping to flee, and meets with Imazael mid-struggle. Hivrath fumbles with his powderkekg, trying to stuff cotton into the bung so he can get the thing lit and scamper off. In a panic, he belts out his breath weapon blasting the spriggans with psionic energy, causing them to clasp their heads in pain.
Up on the hill, Filaurel organizes a volley. The grouping is loose, and a few munitions fall short, but she’s keeping the damage rolling in. Hierx’s Spear slams into the soft fungal flesh of the caterpillar between Imazael, who is still being pinned by a dying spriggan and Shennanna. A second fell spriggan weaves through cover closing the distance toward Imazael, but is currently in Reach of the Spear, if someone can get to it. Shennanna looks cowed and terrified, like a cat stuck too high in a tree.
In seconds the cousins are upon you.
You find yourself in the ground floor foyer of your family’s tower. You would think the end of the world would have made folks huddle in the basements in terror, but it looks like an aunt of yours is setting up for a small gala tonight. A two catfolk servants in dusty velvet colors mull through the tables setting out sandwich cakes. The front is admirable, but if the whole of the village were to turn up now, they still might not fill the ancient hall. If Dunkleheim could be described in one word, it’s spacious, especially since the Flux started taking people away.
Imazael grabs the catfolk, both to steady herself, and prepare for the next part of her plan. I could always use another housecat she thinks Come with me, girl, my people can protect you. she sasy, dragging the girl with her has she flees to high ground
Imazael is able to wrest herself away from the Spriggan attempting to pin her. She is freed with a newly spear-wielding Shennanna in tow, but reaching her has put the two spriggans between you and your firing line. You do, however, have line of sight on them, and they are within shouting distance. They should be able to back you up from where they are, depending on what you need them to do. Leaping down from here will put you at Hivrath's side as he sparks his powderkeg.
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Having regained some of his power, Kyrillosr now feels ready to lash out at Amalina. He thrashes his tail in Amalina's direction in order to overturn her before she reaches Muirkhom. But his attempt wasn't successful, and he found his own tail stuck under Amalina's enormous belly. He tries to pull out from under her, but is unable.
As Amalina transfers her weight onto her front section, the loose brick and Kyrillosr's tail slide out from under her. Moving at a run, her back end swings around tagging the giant reptile, and the two of them roll into the hill.
Imazael, You, Shennanna, and the remaining spriggans are being flung in the direction of your firing line.
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The distant relative goes directly for the nearest affront to it's sensitive nose: Defenceless drow flesh. The nameless scamper inside, away from the assault, but the near-mindless mutant is as single-minded as it is swift. It leaps, tortured vocal chords releasing nothing but a near inaudible hiss. Krenin is bowled over backwards through the opening, which seals slickly behind the group.
Teeth bared, weapons out of reach, the drow and the almost-drow can only flail at each other ineffectually. Mostly ineffectually: Krenin's tentacle fingers ooze and elongate, sliding directly for the throat.
"Greetings friends!" He calls out from the floor, mid-grapple. "Will be happy to deal with you in a moment!"
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It's never occurred to you before, but grappling is a lot like sex. You're able to pin the cousin and hold them still long enough for Mumei and Anamika to perforate their organs with their knives. This seems to be enough to put the thing down, at least temporarily. In the process, however, it looks like LASaROS has found a more comfortable roost on Ferdinand's shoulders. The former beggar has the good graces not to rub it in, but you see in his eyes that he's won no small victory in this.
The catfolk rush to your side, hefting the incapacitated relative off of you. "How delightful, Lord Krenin! Lady Alynthi will be so pleased you're in attendance. Her ladyship's gala will be such a sight with a Hitchhiker in attendance." This first catfolk has the grey striped coat of a tabby.
"May we be introduced to your traveling companions, m'Lord, that we might adjust the guest list accordingly?" This carfolk purrs appraisingly, eyes discretely appraising Anamika from the shaded face of a siamese coat. The pair look eager to please, but are clearly hoping you'll make their jobs easier by acquiescing to their mistress' anticipated needs.
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It takes only a moment for Krenin to deruffle himself, coat and hair adjusted by nimble demi-fingers. "That may be somewhat difficult, as they are, to man, nameless. Merely notate us as 'Lord Krenin plus five.' That should give them plenty to gossip about..." As he speaks, Krenin wanders over the the prostrate almost-drow and looks down. "My Liege," he starts, conversationally, yet still clearly capitalising that L. "What is your position regarding ritual sacrifice of defeated enemies?"
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Imazael twirls in the air, grabbing Shenena, and driving her knife into the ground, very much hoping that the fractured nature of reality allows this particular narrative cliche to temporarily exist in this world, and dragging them both to a stop.
while the "blade brake" worked well enough, inertia was, apparently, still a thing. Shenena's mommentum rips Imazael's arm from it's socket, and Imazael grunts in pain (If her entourage were not nearby, she would have howled). and she returns to her entourage, pulling the crossbow back out, wishing she could reload it faster. [b]Ladies, if I may suggest, we should keep the pressure on Amelina. If she is allowed to escape, things might go terribly wrong... and I'll never get my hands on that ritual
The group moves back, Zelloris and Imazael taking steps to make sure their more frail comrades escape first.