Mal's right, Dima, Kwesi adds, ripping off another piece from her bread. If we went after them now, it'd be like an eight-year-old challenging...well, challenging you to a wrestling match. Though the frustration's still evident in her voice, it's blended with a hint of amusement and accompanied with a wink. We need to find out if they've got some kind of trick knee or blind eye we can go for, or we'll get thrashed. We'll give them the knife if we have to, to buy them off, but no more dreamers, and nothing but the knife if we can help it. It's a feint - make them think we're going along with them, then take them out when they don't expect it.
Shearwater smiles good-naturedly at Kwesi and Mal's attempts at getting through to Dima, drumming his fingertips on the table without much consideration for rhythm. "Heh, wrestling. That's a good way of putting it. We can't very well take on the champ without working our way through the ranks, can we? That'd be cheating, and a poor show to boot!"
"Well...I guess so," answers Dima hesitantly with a frown still present, though he seems to take in Kwesi's explanation more to heart than Malorrem's. Dima nods slowly at both Kwesi and Shearwater then. "Alright, well that's some sense I guess, like a match you said...like not showin' all your skill at once eh? Alright then, if you all think it will work I can keep up the ruse!"
Dima punches Mal's shoulder hard then, looking at him almost accusingly. "Why didn't you say so then before? Had a bad time of it worryin' all about what we were about with this gambit! I'm glad Kwesi at least was here to speak plainly." He slaps his hands together and half rises from the table to bellow over to the bar. "HEY NOW! WHAT'S IT TAKE TO GET SOME GRUB N' GROG FOR MPARU'S FINDERS - I'M KEEN ON BOTH!"
At Dima's enthusiastic response, Kwesi closes her eyes momentarily...to hide the fact that she's rolling them. Of course...make it into a damn game and he gets it. However did I guess? But there's more than just frustration to the thought - strangely, there's a bit of grudging acceptance as well. He is who he is...and maybe looking for the fun in everything's not half-bad. Gods know we can always use a bit more fun around here.
Smiling and nodding along as Dima seems to be contened again. In no way was he expecting the punch. Reaching up to rub his shoulder and reaching out to punch Dima back in his shoulder. "It is not my fault you need so much hand holding in this Dima! You have swallowed far too much sea water and drowned your brain."
Leaning back with an obvious pout, "Honestly if you were having issues then you should have said something. Clearly it is a type of ruse."
"I'm just not a ruddy schemin' schemer like you Mal," answers Dima with a hearty smile as he pounds the table with his fists once again for service. "I like matters plain...got enough of all that scheming and backstabbing with smiles out in The Shackles I did, which is why I left there. But I'll play along in this, if that's what you all want to do."
Annika comes by to nearly slam Dima's grog and some sloppy stew on the table right at Dima's hands, some of the liquid sloshing on his hand and spraying his face. Yet he laughs and seemingly finds no insult in the barmaid's wrath, wiping his face before taking a hearty helping of it into his mouth with a work wooden spoon. "Mmmgood..." he says, slurping it eagerly. Annika refills the others' food and drink at the table more serenely before moving on.
"Y'know," says Dima suddenly after taking a big gulp of grog and setting the wooden tankard down, "in all the flurry of before and what this next business was about, I wanted to tell ya that was some good fightin' work down there at that planninarswhatyoucallit...put a real twist on those scum we did!" He raises his tankard to the others before taking another drink, then chuckles and says to Shearwater, "So that Eryssala seamaiden...quite a friend you made there eh Shear? Eh? I'm a guessin' that if you talk all sweet to her again and she knows what we're tryin' to do, well, maybe she'll help clear the way for us or at least warn us on our row over to this library place."
With food (and maybe some ale) in your bellies, you leave the familiar warmth and safety of The Storm’s Pearl and step out onto the precariously swaying rope bridges leading from the lodge down toward Vancen’s abode and your waiting boats. The wind is up again, and a cool rainfall pelts your head, reducing visibility considerably. Still, you can make out the glow of lamplights from Mparu’s tower room. Maybe it’s simply the rain, but the light flickers as though there is activity inside.
Below you, several workers contend with a bridge that’s slipped free from its moorings to one of the large pilings along the catwalk, causing it dangle sideways and sway dangerously in the wind. ”Jam the knot, ya slug-faced grindylow!” bellows the familiar voice of Vincys, the Master of Knots, to one of the others. Whatever response is given is lost within the roaring gale and a resounding boom of thunder as a lightning bolt arcs just over towertops, striking somewhere on the mainland to the north. The effect is tangible, and even your teeth seem to rattle in your skull as more lightning flashes within the clouds above.
Carefully, slowly, you make your way down to the pier to find your boats sloshing within the turbulent waters.
Movement...so either someone's looking after her or she's up and around again already. Probably the second - she never lets anything keep her down for long.
With a small smile, Kwesi minces her way across the swaying bridges. It doesn't play terribly well with the ale still sloshing around her stomach and head, but the sheer physical hardiness her past had given her is more than enough to keep her steady on her feet. Just to be certain, though, she stops for a moment and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes; when they open again, the pupils are wide, and her lips don't quite cover a now-serrated smile.
As the group draws close to where the boats are moored, she suddenly throws up a hand. There's something in the water - what, I don't know. It looks almost like...a fish with grey hair? Cautiously, she peers into the churning waves, trying to get a closer look and reaching to dangle her silver bell into the water and call to Adofo.
Eryssala's head pops up beneath the waves, her mischievous smile waxing like an autumn moon. "I hoped you would come back Shear Water, and your friends as well, I did. What are we to do this night?"
Wordlessly and without warning, Dima gives Mal a mischievous half-shove and then raises his eyebrows in the direction of Shearwater, nodding and grinning knowingly at Mal as if to share in an unspoken jest.
Glancing over at Shearwater and with a grin. Those would be some strange babies... I wonder what would happen if I threw Dima in the water?.. Kwesi would yell at me I am sure. Though I kind of miss it.
Turning to Eryssala and waving while contemplating how he could get everyone in sight thrown into the water while escaping and coming up short on the escape part.
Shearwater squats on the edge of the catwalk, smiling back at the fey. "I'm glad to see you as well! As it happens, we're off to cause some trouble for the hags. There's supposed to be a library somewhere around here, a place of books and old knowledge. Well, old by human reckoning, anyway. Might you speed our way?"
Schist brings up the rear of the group, having dawdled some so as to gaze up, eyes closed, and enjoy the patter of the rain upon his cheeks and brow. The crash of lightning doesn't seem to spook him, but when they do reach the docks he frowns at the clouds and then casts a weather eye over the turbulent waters.
"A bad time to take to the sea," he mutters. Then he pauses, considers, Eryssala and shrugs. "But perhaps..."
"Ya, but probably not getting much better later either," chimes in Dima to Schist in idle conversation, though he looks to the sky with a tinge of concern just as Schist does. Shrugging it off and shaking out his wet hair, he starts bellowing for his friend alligator Magne at the water's edge, following up with an odd series of clicks and whistles in the strange Aquan tongue for him. Soon enough, a snout and pair of eyes appears a bit farther down from the boats.
"Trouble? For the hags?" She puzzles over the statement for a moment before her dark eyes glimmer. "The wind makers. The sorcerers. Yes, and yes! I shall speed your way, I shall, even through the ever-storm!" She flurries around the boats, laughing, before pausing at the starboard side.
"A place of books. This I know. It is far into the aged structures to the north, but with my aid the sea shall guide us with ease. Are you ready to sail?" A mere glance downward and the turbulent waters respond noticeably, seeming to calm in the area surrounding the boats.
Our thanks, then, Eryssala. I had hoped you would join us again. Carefully, Kwesi steps over into her boat, taking the tiller in hand. Her features blur for a moment, and when they finish the jagged teeth have receded somewhat, while the gills are more pronounced. Strangely, there's no sign in her nose and mouth of inhalation - it seems as if she's actually breathing air through the gills.
Schist kneels down at the edge of the dock and slips his hand into the choppy water; immediately it begins to flow up his arm, swirling around his torso and there hardening into a clear carapace of seagreen ice. The cracks and clicks of the ice settling into place are barely audible over the storm, but Schist seems unaffected by what should be a piercing cold.
That done, he hops over onto the boat beside Kwesi with the nimble sure-footedness of one that has spent many years at sea, and immediately sets to all the nautical tasks involved with casting off a boat from such a perilous dock; occasionally he glances over at Kwesi as if to check in and make sure they're on the same page, affording her the same respect he would any other captain on their own ship.
"Wonderful! Thank you Eryssala." Pausing to watch Schist manipulate the water with curiosity. Freaking magic users get all the fun stuff. "Schist that looks ice. Are you not worried that it will melt?"
Patting himself down to make sure that he has all of his things. Armor, bag, quiver, headband, and bruises. Moving to step into the boat and reaching out to tap Kwesi where he nose should be. Pulling his hand back and grinning at her, "I have your nose. Do not worry though, I will keep it safe."
Feeling pleased with himself and his childish behavior. Moving to sit down in front of Kwesi.
Shearwater hops on the boat and starts humming a tune, ready to help with the steering as instructed by Kwesi.
Errysala smiles as you haul yourselves into your boats, swimming just to the side and offering her hand, first to Kwesi, then Mal. As your hand touches hers, the taste of saltwater fills your mouth and you have a sudden urge to dive into the dark water She eyes Schist curiously and with a smile takes his as well. Dima she appraises the way a fisherman might eye an especially good catch before smiling and offering her hand. When Shearwater offers his hand she withdraws her own, laughing softly. ”For Shear Water, a handshake will not do, it won’t. A kiss, then.” She purses her lips and lifts her chin, eyes open and expectant .
Eryssala leads you east through the depths of Frogmarch River at the startling rapid pace set by her own manipulation of the waters around your rowboats, staying close to the remaining land masses and avoiding the deepest, most unknown waters. ”...Dangers…” she mutters quizzically when questioned about those dark places.
After about 45 minutes, on your left appears the battered husks of almost one hundred ships that drift listlessly through the night within a windswept cove. A forest of masts looms over the derelict ship graveyard, their sails torn apart by powerful gales and extended neglect. Capsized hulls float among the upright ships, anchored in place by the remains of their masts driven into sandbars beneath the waves.
”Careful we must be,” Eryssala whispers urgently. ”Restless spirits guard these waters. Come, we should go around, and leave this place.”
Nodding to Eryssala, Kwesi smiles in thanks. Once more her features shift, and when they settle the webs between her fingers reach nearly to her fingertips. Subtly she slips her shoes off in a corner of the boat; the toes have webs between them as well, and her feet are so wide they strain against the soft shoes' sides as she pulls them out. She can't help but chuckle to herself when the oceanid passes over Dima to lean in to Shearwater for a kiss - she has the good grace to keep the laugh to herself, but her face contorts with the effort of holding her smirk back. That'll show the pretty boy.
As the boats draw up to the field of wrecked ships, Kwesi gazes worriedly across the macabre seascape. We're not in any rush - avoiding that seems like a good idea. I don't particularly fancy myself or my boat joining that party. You know these waters better than I, Eryssala; take us which way seems best.
Dima for the most part seems oblivious to the subtleties of Eryssala, though he'll chortle grandly to the token of affection desired from Shearwater. Any continued ribbing of the aerie priest, however, quiets out in the swirl of rapid river current and the storm above them. He's quite astounded by the help the mermaid gives them and the speed by which they travel in the Frogmarch without tipping over, but mostly focuses on doing his part in the boat as well as ensuring Magne is keeping pace with them.
At the graveyard of boats, Dima's eyes light up with interest even though he understands the cautionary nature of those who have spoken. "I don't know, could be more of these trinkets we're lookin' to shine up all around and in there. But you're right about the restless dead and such that mark it as their graves...a man doomed to drown on his ship makes darkly odd oaths that they wouldn't normally do, and there's both gods and other things that will answer 'em too."
Dima shrugs and says while musing over the sight of it, "Maybe we do come back here another time if we don't find what we're lookin' for at the library...even without restless dead to worry about down there, it'd take a long time for us to sort through and manage searchin' all those wrecks."
Gladly extending his hand and a shaking his head the sea seems to fill his mouth. Smiling at Eryssala, "My thanks again. You have been greatly helpful since we met you."
Grinning broadly at the kiss Shearwater receives, "You did not mention your skill with matter of the heart my friend."
Quietly enjoying the speedy trip. There is a glint of excitement in his eyes at the challenge to be found at the ship graveyard and it has been sometime since he has been here.
Frowning at Dima's words, "The last year we have not been able to collect from here. They say pirates died here and their souls swim in those waters. Normally it would be the fastest route but in the want for expediency we should go around it."
Grinning, "If one believes those tales that is. I would certainly like to come back though. I have been badgering Vancen to let me come back out this way and it is a shame to have to leave without disobeying him."
When Shearwater offers his hand she withdraws her own, laughing softly. ”For Shear Water, a handshake will not do, it won’t. A kiss, then.” She purses her lips and lifts her chin, eyes open and expectant.
Shearwater is clearly surprised, but remains admirably composed through both the offer itself and the looks of his companions, save for the faintest of blushes. "Oh. Oh! Yeah, uh... sure."
The priest goes for a quick peck on the lips, trying to keep it safely somewhere in between Calistrian and Erastilian.
"Pirates eh?" Dima takes in Mal's words and peers again out through the stormy haze and mist to the wrecks with their masts all jumbled together. "A fool's raid from the Shackles maybe? Hmm...well now I really want to see what's there, but it's not going to be the old stuff we're lookin' for."
Checking briefly to see where Magne is, and with a brief look at the others and their dispositions, Dima leans forward a bit and whispers loudly so that there's no real point to whispering, "C'mon, are we the heroes who just freed Mparu after a good scum-thrashing or aren't we? Let's run the gauntlet and see what we see! The way the current favors us with Shear's honeyblossom here, three bags o' bits on the table that we make it through without blood in the water if we're quick about it!"
Oh, don't be daft, Dima, Kwesi replies in just as fake a whisper. What's the point of ducking into that without cause? In case you've forgotten, we've got more saving that needs doing - and I'd quite prefer to be around to do it, thankyouverymuch.
Schist gives a shrug.
"All things being equal, why risk greater expenditure of our resources if delaying but an hour or two will see us arrive at our destination with enough time to investigate?"
He nods to Kwesi.
"I'm of like mind."
Dima shrugs his shoulders in the rain, as if to say their decision is absolutely the least brave and interesting that's possible in all of Golarion, but he doesn't argue the point.
With a grim nod, Eryssala leads you away from the forlorn shipwrecks and on to the east, along the quondam, wave-wracked coastline of a lost kingdom.
Old Hyrantam. Before the flood, what’s known today as “Old Hyrantam” consisted of several districts that catered to artists, naturalists, priests, spellcasters, and university students and scholars. These districts were all but destroyed by the floods, and it’s here that Hyrantam’s loss is most obvious. Those native to the region know that undead are common threats throughout these flooded avenues, particularly ghosts and haunts of those who lost their lives in the initial disaster.
One of the largest collections of towers that still rise from the waters marks the location of Parallax University, a sprawling campus once devoted to all of the storied interests of Hyrantam’s long-dead inhabitants. It is rumored that these buildings still contain many wards and guardians left over from before the deluge and thus merge the dangers of two eras.
A marble platform juts out from the side of a triangular building, its roof decorated with several bronze spikes. The surrounding waters nearly swamp the balcony, allowing waves to splash onto the deck before draining out between the railings. Decrepit telescopes stand along the railing, their broken lenses staring blindly out over the drowned city. A stone door provides entry into the tower’s top level.
The flooded derelict evokes a sense of sadness in Kwesi. While she'd never had much patience for scholarly pursuits, the time and effort put into the Hyrantam that had been was astonishing. And then, overnight - poof. Nothing. Flotsam and jetsam putting everything just into getting by. Why...why do we even bother living on this strip of nowhere coastline, fighting against the waves and the storms? Why not just give the ocean its prize? But at the intrusive thought, an even more intrusive surge of sheer stubbornness surges through, and another voice shouts over the despair. Because it's home.
A faint movement in the corner of her eye jolts her from her reverie. For a moment she narrows her eyes, uncertain if she'd actually seen what she thought she saw...but then it happens again, and there's no doubt. Something up there, she mutters quietly, pointing to the marble balcony. I don't know what, but I definitely saw something - some kind of shimmer. Maybe we should throw something up there, see if it reacts?
Shearwater squints at the balcony, nodding affirmatively. "Yeah, I see it too. I could get up there and take a peek, if you'd like..."
"Aww it's just the water all sloshin' around and the clouds playing tricks on ya!" Dima shrugs his shoulders after peering at where both Kwesi and Shearwater are pondering what's on the balcony, though clearly he can't see whatever it is they're seeing.
With a cautioning hand to Shearwater to not step forward yet, Dima then smiles and says with assured vigor, "Well if you think somethin' is there, let's see what they make of this!"
Dima then extracts a javelin from his enchanted quiver, rears back in the boat and lets the projectile fly with a strong heave of his muscles, aiming the spear directly at the center of the balcony's door that he can clearly see.
Dima’s javelin whistles through the night, striking the heavy stone doors but ricocheting off and skittering across the waterlogged balcony.
Almost immediately, two faintly glowing balls of light appear directly above you. They bob gently in the air, the nebulous image of what might be a skull visible somewhere in their depths. Silently, somehow menacingly, they descend upon you, moving far too quickly for your liking.
The floating spheres of light tremble as they approach, their vibrations intensifying in seeming excitement as they thrill at your warm, living flesh. Like wasps, they strike quickly and efficiently, slamming into Mal and Kwesi and sending a shock of pain rippling through their bodies.
___________________________
Red: excellent condition
Blue: excellent condition
Avg = 19.33
Avg = 20.5
Mal
hit
Kwesi
hit
Drawing him ransur at the mention of something being out of his line of sight. Flinching at that shock, "I didn't throw anything at you!"Taking a step back and lashing out twice.
Mal takes a step back and stabs reflexively at the horrid floating skull. The creature zooms just to the right, avoiding the weapon's tip.
Kwesi's breathing halts for a second as the electricity courses through her muscles; a few harrowing seconds later, her breath returns in a panicked gasp, and she tries to shake the leaden feeling from her limbs.
Hurriedly, she backs up from the strange were-light, narrowly missing stumbling over a bench seat. Reaching over the side above the water, she makes a swirling motion with her hand and pulls it forward. From the water's surface, a dancing globule rises and follows her hand movement, hurling forward to meet the strange creature in mid-air.
Leaning forward slightly, she reaches her hand over the boat's side and jerks it upwards with her palm flat toward the water. From the water's surface, the shape of a gnarled staff rises up to meet her hand, and she grabs it and lashes out at the light creature.
Shearwater scampers back, staying low to avoid capsizing the boat. He puts as much distance between himself and the ghost-lights as he can before unslinging his bow, a thing of driftwood decorated with feathers and colourful beads on pieces of string. Running his hand over its limbs, he mutters a quick prayer:
"स्विफ्ट दक्षिण-पवन, मेरी तीर का मार्गदर्शन करें!"
Kwesi is able to take a faltering step back away from the ghostly light, taking the opportunity to channel the water surrounding her into a deadly geyser that rockets at her enemies. The ghostly lights are too quick, however, and quickly dodge the her blast. Shearwater, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to secure a strategic location back and away from the melee, suffusing himself with the blessing of his goddess.
Not needing to rise to his feet in order to effect his magic, Schist eyes the closest sphere of apparent necrotic energy and levels a single finger at it, whispering dire words beneath his breath with fierce concentration before unleashing a storm of miniature whirlpool vortexes that fly unerringly into its center.
Dima stands there shocked and dumbfounded for a long moment at what transpires, until he snaps his trap shut and gives the nasty buzzing globes a menacing scowl. ”What manner of…that’s not HEY GET OFF ‘EM!”
Drawing his polished illuminated trident from the quiver on his back, Dima’s muscles bulge and ripple slightly in the rain as he focuses on the one nearest to him in the boat with Malorrem, as he cannot get close enough to Kwesi to make a difference without hurling his precious trident into the murky waters. "Pick on someone yer own size!" he shouts at the little skull-globe, not realizing that the retort doesn't really make sense with those being attacked.
__________________________________________
Dima struggles to pierce the orbs as they bob and spin at a dizzying pace . Schist’s vortices fishtail through the sheets of rain and strike the nearest sphere, causing its pale light to shift toward hues of green and blue as it emits a sort of shriek . The face within distorts then reappears, now facing the source of its pain.
”I do not know these creatures, I don’t!” Erysalla calls out as she looks on anxiously. In a manner similar to Kwesi, she seems to pull the water up into the air around her, sending a sizeable water spout shooting through the air at one of the orbs. It flickers and blinks as it whirs to the side, barely escaping the attack .
The sphere rockets through the air toward Schist, the skull within it opening its mouth in an eerie shriek. It slams into Schist, jolting him with electricity . The orb near Kwesi remains focused on her, flying in close to deliver another shock .
___________________________
Red: small wounds and bruises
Blue: excellent condition
hit
hit
Red: 30/40
Blue: 40/40
Dima grunts a determined oath and redoubles his efforts to get at the floating skulls, nimbly jumping across from one boat to the next to take an upward thrust at the one shocking Schist. It's a hasty thrust however and misses where it was just a moment before as it swirls around, with Dima getting more angry and determined to not let these malevolent orbs best them.
Meanwhile, Magne snaps his jaws and thrashes in the waters next to the boats, clearly agitated from Dima's emotions but unable to do anything about it by the boats on the surface of the water.
__________________________________________
With the light creature pushing ever closer to her, Kwesi elects to dive over the side of the boat to give herself more space to move. As she falls, the water rises up to meet her, cushioning her landing so that she disappears underwater with hardly a ripple. As she kicks with her legs to tread water, she raises her hands in an undulating wave, and the water echoes the movement to rush toward the light creature with an ominous rumble.
Schist lets out a hiss of pain as the muscles along his arm, shoulder, and neck spasm from the shock, and as Kwesi dives over the side of the boat he elects to adopt the same strategy.
It's a small thing to step on the gunwhale and hop feet first into the waves, plunging down with an explosion of bubbles into the dark green water. His ice armor immediately gives him a natural bouyancy, and bobbing back up he extends both hands as he utters a powerful incantation.
When making a full attack action, a hasted creature may make one extra attack with one natural or manufactured weapon. The attack is made using the creature’s full base attack bonus, plus any modifiers appropriate to the situation. (This effect is not cumulative with similar effects, such as that provided by a speed weapon, nor does it actually grant an extra action, so you can’t use it to cast a second spell or otherwise take an extra action in the round.)
A hasted creature gains a +1 bonus on attack rolls and a +1 dodge bonus to AC and Reflex saves. Any condition that makes you lose your Dexterity bonus to Armor Class (if any) also makes you lose dodge bonuses.
All of the hasted creature’s modes of movement (including land movement, burrow, climb, fly, and swim) increase by 30 feet, to a maximum of twice the subject’s normal speed using that form of movement. This increase counts as an enhancement bonus, and it affects the creature’s jumping distance as normal for increased speed. Multiple haste effects don’t stack. Haste dispels and counters slow.
Empowered by Schist's magic, the priest draws his bow and lets out two shots in quick succession.
"Oi, try me!" he calls out to the creature threatening his friend.
Schist slips into the dark waters, then weaves electricity up through the very air, exciting his allies into a flurry. Still, the mysterious wisps prove frustratingly hard to pinpoint, and continue to evade your weapon attacks. Dima and Mal stab only rain, as Kwesi tips over into the water in hopes her assailant is reluctant to enter the water. She and Eryssala simultaneously utilize the environ to launch powerful blasts of water at their foes, but the tricksy creatures also dodge these attacks. Only Shearwater is able to strike, as he takes his time lining up a shot and pierces a creature with one of his divinely-inspired shots.
Fortunately for Kwesi and Shearwater, the creatures do seem reluctant to pursue them into the water. Instead, they turn their attention to those remaining within the ships. The first turns its attention toward Shearwater, the source of its most recent pain. It strikes his feathers as it did Kwesi’s flesh, but its electric bite is muffled, its efficacy strangely reduced. Mal, though, isn’t so lucky, as an orb flies in to strike him with shocking pain .
___________________________
Red: quite a few wounds
Blue: excellent condition
miss
miss
miss
miss
hit, but 10 resistance
Mal
hit
Red: 26/40
Blue: 40/40
Shearwater laughs out loud as he is assailed by the malicious sphere, letting loose another volley of arrows even as his body is wracked by a lessened—though not entirely insignificant—amount of electricity. Most of the crackling energy seems to run along his feathers like rain falling off of leaves in a storm, discharging harmlessly into the air around him.
"Oh boy," he snickers. "I can't believe you actually fell for it!"
Bobbing in the water, Schist feels the electric energies of his Haste spell urge him to action, to burst into a dive or simply cut through the waves in an effort to work off some of his vigor. Instead, he floats, only his eyes and bald pate above the waterline, and surveys the battle.
They're not winning. Or rather, not winning fast enough. Too many of their attacks were missing, and each moment another of the party members seized up in shock as the floating skulls landed another attack.
Time to move things along.
Schist mutters his incantation to himself, bubbles emerging as he raises a hand and fires off a stream of fiery bolts at the red skull.
You - little - bastards... Stay - still! Kwesi manages to grunt out between kicks to keep herself afloat. All right - you want to play, let's play. Screwing up her face in concentration, she takes a deep breath and pushes her will down into the waves; as her hands raise again, a swell bigger than any before rises and rushes toward the creatures, the force behind it tremendous.
Schist’s fire rays burn burn through the darkness, their reflection igniting the water and illuminating the scene of the battle in vivid oranges and reds. Both rays miss and instead fly off toward the clouds overhead. Kwesi and Eryssala channel rays of their respective, opposed element, but their water blasts also rocket skyward without striking the wisps. While Dima is now positioned to maximize his arcane speed, neither strike succeeds at impaling an orb.
But where the others struggle to make contact, Mal and Shearwater strike with devastating effect. Mal hefts his ranseur and swings around, now in range of the glowing menace that threatens the cleric. With impossible speed and frightening accuracy, he stabs viciously right into the center of the bobbing light . As the creature shimmers and shrieks, Shearwater draws back his bow for the deathstroke. The creature, perhaps sensing its fate, emanates an electric, jarring scream and slams into Shearwater, but the latter is again protected by his foliage. His arrows release, and one finds its mark dead center. As the arrow strikes, the creature's light is extinguished, and all that remains is a transparent, jelly-like mass of foam that flies with the arrow, propelled into the ocean below.
The remaining sphere, sensing the demise of its companion, silently shimmers in rage, then floats and bobbles like a bubble higher up into the air, disappearing into nothingness with a little pop.
___________________________
Red: unconscious
Blue: fled
possible crit
not confirmed
possible crit
not confirmed
miss
miss
miss
miss
hit, but 10 resistance
_______________________
A marble platform juts out from the side of a triangular building, its roof decorated with several bronze spikes. The surrounding waters nearly swamp the balcony, allowing waves to splash onto the deck before draining out between the railings. Decrepit telescopes stand along the railing, their broken lenses staring blindly out over the drowned city. A stone door provides entry into the tower’s top level.