Something Wicked This Way Comes (Inactive)

Game Master Fanguar

"Do you have any way of proving these claims?" the tall man asked, his face flat and betraying nothing.

Umurn taps the circlet on his brow, then pulls on a chain around his neck, revealing a silver symbol of Asmodeus.

"Few would dare wear this symbol if they were not truly pledged to Asmodeus. Fewer still would dare in this land, where we are hunted so vehemently. And I know you come here to do what my knot could not, to find the plague that shall increase the chaos planned for Talingarde. Do you require further proof?"

The second human's skin is tinged a dark red, and a top portion of the King of Hell's symbol is visible through the top of his shirt. It appears to have burned/etched into his flesh. His eyes are distressingly black and two small horns stick up through his dark hair.

"Greetings and well met. If you are indeed who you claim to be, it will be good to have another follower of Asmodeus, to keep the blood suckers off balance." He says, flashing the vampires a grin.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12 Sense Motive, ya know, just in case. Ya can't be too careful these days, lol

Albrέkt meets Haruk's grin, with his own jagged smile;

"Off balansce Hölle Laich (Hell Spawn) ? Zhere iz nein balansce. Der Living vill die. Der Dead vill rise. Neither Götter (Gods) noch Der Herzöge (Dukes) ov Hölle vil schtem zhis fate... zhis epoch... For I am itz harbinger!"

He chuckles, a dry, lifeless noise and nods to the newcomer;

"Velcommen to Der Knotten Nessian."

Umurn frowns at Albrekt, then turns to Haruk. "It is good that at least one of you remembers who the Lord of this land shall be," he comments. "As for myself... if we are to work together, I should show my true self."

He narrows his eyes for a moment, then begins to change. Charcoal-grey fur sprouts from his skin as his face elongates into a lupine muzzle. His legs lengthen unevenly, his heels rising as he changes from a plantigrade to a digitigrade stance. A short tail sprouts out from between the plates of his armor as it changes to accomodate his new form.

Once all is done he stands slightly taller and broader-shouldered than before, a lupine beast encased in steel. He gives Albrekt a toothy smile.

"Now you see me as I truly am." His voice is rougher than it was before, though just as deep. "If you are done questioning me, it has been long since I have been at one of the King of Hell's shrines. You have one, I assume?"

The tall man looked exasperated and a bit disgusted at the vampire's zealous ranting. He changed the subject.

"We have done little in the way of exploring the wilds of Caer Bryr. You have been surviving in them for some time now. What can you tell us?"

Sariana simply leans against a wall and lets the boys get on with measuring their 'fangs'.

Molasbar watches the discussion with interest. A new 'faction' within our little knot bodes well for me. Even if he is one of the diseased, he helps offset the undead contingent.

Still, always suspicious, the half-orc watches the other with interest, looking for signs of deception.

The tall man looked exasperated and a bit disgusted at the vampire's zealous ranting. He changed the subject.

"We have done little in the way of exploring the wilds of Caer Bryr. You have been surviving in them for some time now. What can you tell us?"

Umurn grunts. "I could tell you where to find rabbits or deer. There is little else of note. A few bullywug tribes, that could perhaps be intimidated into being of use, or preyed upon. No other settlements that I saw."

"Hmm. These wilds have a reputation for being extremely dangerous. I expected more," the tall man said, a tad disappointed.

"The Asmodean temple is on the second floor. There is also an unclaimed room you may take as your own."

"We have a planning meeting each night in the Tavern with our evening meal. Join us then, after you have settled in."

The tall man seemed to have said as much as he was going to for now. Without segue or preamble, he walked out of the room.

It just occurred to me that none of us besides Urmurn actually introduced ourselves. We are such a#~*!!+s.

Well we *are* prideful villains. :D

Umurn shrugs slightly. "I was a lone wolf, more concerned with survival than exploration. It is possible there is more in areas I thought were not good for hunting," he says as Xanos turns to leave.

He looks to the others. "If there is nothing further, I will go to this temple."

"You," Xanos said to a random cultist who was getting water fromt he fountain in the common area. "Come with me."

The cultist looked excited and proud as he followed the tall wizard into his mysterious laboratory. He was never seen again.

GM, anything else I need to finish the Golem?

Albrέkt retires to his own nest, leaving the wolf to explore and the Old Vun to conduct his experiments.

The hulking wretch's hunger gnawed at his cold gut, but among the dead things and remains that carpeted his chamber dulled his satiations.

Vamp will lie in torpor until called upon... or disturbed

Sariana meanwhile continues to roam across the land at night, scouring the land for interest.

Likewise, just killing time.

@Xanos: Not going to lie, I haven't really been keeping track of what you've done previously. In total, the cost of repair involves 600gp of alchemical supplies and 1500gp for a new eye lens and heart gear. As long as the cost if accounted for, we can move forward.

I've already taken care of the alchemical supplies. The heart and lens are news to me. Can you tell us what skills/DCs would be needed to make them ourselves?

Golem link again.

You can use the make whole spell to fix the broken eye lens or it is going to cost 1000gp to purchase a replacement. The heart cog requires 500gp worth of mithril, and it is assumed you are just making it yourself.

That evening a slightly nervous Asmodean passed an invitation to Urmurn to meet the lords of the Horn in the Death's Head Tavern.

The western half of the place was surprisingly lively. Necromantic cultists and Asmodean acolytes enjoyed an odd sort of fraternity as Halthus the Flayer, the sole survivor of the Sons of the Apocalypse, served up drinks and food.

The Northern half, around the corner was comparatively empty. There, the Nessian Knot sat around a table full of maps and paperwork, plotting the downfall of Talengarde.

There was an extra seat at the table for their newest member.

"I require mithril," the tall spellcaster was saying (he still had not introduced himself). "And a miriad of other supplies for bolstering our defenses. Another trip to Farholde is needed."

Earlier...

Umurn made his way up to the area dedicated as a temple to Asmodeus. He was pleased to see it well-tended by acolytes. At least there were some here who recognized the true order of things.

Speaking of the true order... he knealt before the altar. Quietly but intensely he spoke a few simple words.

"I was too weak. I shall make myself stronger, that I shall not fail you again."

************

Now...

Umurn smiled at the other Asmodean--a sight that was probably only slightly less terrifying than his snarl, given how many fangs it displayed.

He stalks into the 'Tavern', still enjoying being able to freely go about in his true form without concern for attracting unwelcome attention. His lupine gaze sweeps over the assembled group and the papers in front of them before settling on the seat he sees reserved for himself. Confidently he takes it and sits back to listen, content to be quiet for the moment to learn what the others have done.

"We will go." The shorter vampire speaks, her inflection precise as always. "It will be faster that way." She's standing, stock still by the tavern wall and yet seems to have no issue reading the various maps on the desk.

"How do you like the Horn, Umurn Wolf? Better now you are not being eaten?" A flash of fangs makes the question just a little more... worrisome.

Albrέkt loomed nearby the cabal of servants-infernal, his disdain of maps and parchment plots clear by his jagged sneer.

At Sariana's words the ironclad vampyr reacted, allowing a nod to accompany the curled lip.

"It vil allow Der Old Vun and the Höllenmarionetten time to skribble zheir planen, und us to speisen on different fare..."

"It is good not to have to hide my true self," Umurn replies to Sariana with a toothy smile.

"Hunting in the wilds is merely survival. Here... how long must we hold until the ritual is done?"

Urmurn's true form drew a raised, thoughtful eyebrow from the dark-skinned wizard, but no comments regarding it.

"Two hundred and eight days longer," the tall mystic answered.

Umurn growls softly, deep in his chest. "Much time, then. I will spend a few more days learning what has been done here, after which I will know how I can add to your defenses."

He looks over at the rest of the group--the vampires in particular. "Even before then, I would spar with you. It has been too long since I have been able to train properly. I must hone my skills before they are again tested."

The hulking vampyr approaches Xanos, with a degree of reverence afforded only to the other undead within The Horn;

"Old Vun. How much of zhis Mithril do you require for Der Golem?"

"Approximately five pounds," the tall wizard replied.

Sparring is an interesting idea. Do you want to actually do round by round combat, or just do a "training montage" sort of thing?

Haruk chuckles at the mention of sparring. "Ah, I am not exactly suitable to such activities. However, I'll gladly take bets."

I'm not wanting to do round by round. It's just a role-playing point that Umurn is a relentless trainer as part of his whole "The strong shall rule the weak, so always seek to be stronger" thing. Sparring is just a part of his personal training regimen.

"Strength of body is incomplete without strength of mind and magic," Umurn replies to Haruk's comment. "These also can be tested and strengthened by competition. You are skilled in magic, are you not? Perhaps we may find a way to compete and so grow in strength in magic."

The tall wizard looked vaguely amused. "Competition by nature requires rules, and that the competitors be at least somewhat evenly matched. I have no interest in such things."

"Competition requires rules." Sariana agrees, with what passes for an amused smile among vampires. "Victory requires ruthlessness - nothing less. But I'm sure mein Grosser Bruder will indulge you Umurn Wolf."

"Such sparring is an interesting prospect. I'll be curious to see it." Molasbar doesn't volunteer to participate, but will watch very closely.

I don't have a particular goal for the week. If others have crafting that remains to be completed, I can certainly work on that for them. I've completed what I can afford for myself.

Albrέkt nods obediently at Xanos' requirements of mithril;

"I vil prokure zhat vich you require Old Vun. Anything else needed?"

As talk turns to sparring and the nature of competition, the hulking vampyr casts a cold eye toward the others;

"Ve kannot be evenly matched. I am Unvergänglich of Der Blassen Prinzessin. Umurn Wolf ist nicht."

His words are edged with zealous pride.

Great way to show acceptance to the new player/PC :P lol

Note: crypt door not closed though - hence my point of posting pride... ;) Just rolling with it - Albrέkt isn't a "natural selection" type as (in his eyes) he's already an apex. Umurn will need to work for his beating lol :D

Umurn snorts. Here he'd had hopes this lot would be smarter than the last knot.

"Fine. I'll practice by myself," he states, with a bit of a sneer. If they had no wish to grow stronger, he wouldn't have to work as hard to surpass them.

"Then why not prove your supremacy, Albrekt?" the tall wizard asked with uncharacteristic amusement just behind his stoic facade.

Albrέkt pauses, mulling the sage necromancers words.

The vampyr turns his cold gaze back to the brooding werewolf offering a nod and a jagged smile;

"Danke Old Vun - I vil. Challenge accepted Umurn Vulf. Veapons or Zahn und Klaue (Tooth and Claw)?"

Umurn grins toothily.

"The only rule is that we must not endanger the defense of the Horn by leaving one or the other of us too incapacitated to fight should an attack come."

(Non-lethal damage then? ;)

"Be careful Wolf. Mein Bruder will not feel it unless you strike with full force." Sarianna points out with another grin.

Undead are immune to non-lethal damage ;)

Kurse you Kleine Schwester lol!

In all seriousness am not sure how a full on bout won't end with one or both of us incapacitated... :S

The hulking wretch emits a low hiss at his sister exposing his (unfair) advantage...

Dragging his notched greatsword free of its scabbard, Albrέkt takes a practice swing;

"Vhen you are ready Höllenwolf."

The tall wizard's mouth twitched slightly in what might have been a brief smirk. Then he rose and walked towards his lab, his hands trailing him like pets. He didn't stay to see the results of the contest.

Umurn is a priest of Asmodeus. Do you honestly think he'd be ignorant about undead?

Umurn bares his teeth in what could either be a smile or a snarl. "We should back away from the table. No need to damage it."

He turns and starts stalking out more into the open. As he does he raises a hand to his chest and starts muttering to himself. He's trying to sneak in a spell here.

If you don't call him on it...

Once more out in the open, he turns and raises his silver mace. "Begin!" he snarls.

Sarianna calmly walks up the wall and stands upside-down on the ceiling above the two warriors. From there she watches the combat, ready to intervene if things get (more) out of hand. She can't help but chuckle, even though Xanos isn't there to appreciate the Hand puns.

If either one of you tries to actually kill the other (going for a CDG type thing) Sari will drop on you and grapple. Otherwise she's just here to watch :D

No call on the spell - no rules of engagement in this hive of scum and villainy :)

Albrέkt hacks a death-rattle chuckle at Umurn's actions, moving forward to bring his raised heavy blade chopping down at the priest of Hell;

Power Attack Melee: +1 Greatsword: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24

Damage: 2d6 + 14 ⇒ (2, 1) + 14 = 17

Am actually thinking a round by round might give us more drama?

Umurn cast his divine power, then. If we're quick we can do round-by-round, I was mostly wanting to do it all at once just to avoid dragging things out too long.

Umurn actually smiles as the vampire struck him. It had been too long since he'd had a proper fight!

He grips his mace two-handed and strikes back twice, interspersing the attacks with a quick snap of his teeth.

Mace: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26
Damage: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Bite: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Mace: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14

I'll try not to drag out your agony ;)

Albrέkt pauses as the werewolf remains standing after his first attack, and replied with an equally powerful blow.

"I aktually felt zhat Höllenwolf. Bravo."

He replies with a series of slashes at the armoured lycanthrope;

Melee: +1 Greatsword: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26
Damage: 2d6 + 8 ⇒ (3, 6) + 8 = 17

Melee: +1 Greatsword: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Damage: 2d6 + 8 ⇒ (1, 1) + 8 = 10

The first blow lands heavy, while its follow up is somewhat wide of the wolf...

Now that he's gotten two good strikes in, Albrέkt can tell the werewolf's flesh... resists the blows slightly, shrugging off a small portion of the harm caused by the blade.

Umurn's only reply is a grunt and another series of attacks. He maneuvers about as he attacks, shifting from one side to the other as if incapable of staying still while he fights.

Mace: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 16
Bite: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Mace: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30
Damage: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

His first strike clangs off of the vampire's armor, while the snap from his teeth seems more like a feint than a real attack. The next strike with his mace, however, is another solid blow.

Umurn bares his teeth in another smiling snarl. His opponent still didn't get it, the real purpose of this. Didn't he notice Umurn was holding back, spending almost as much effort watching and learning as he did attacking, engaging in melee rather than using more of his spells?

Apologies - was hit by a series of storms last night that kept knocking home interwebs out.

While Albrέkt does not address the unholy lycanthrope's resistance to his blade's edge, he does react to the tang of bestial blood from their duel...

The ironclad wretch begins to drool from his jagged maw as he once again presses home a series of slicing attacks;

Melee: +1 Greatsword: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22
Damage: 2d6 + 8 ⇒ (3, 4) + 8 = 15

Melee: +1 Greatsword: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19
Damage: 2d6 + 8 ⇒ (6, 4) + 8 = 18

Umurn grunts as another blow hits home. He'd have to yield soon, but he about had the vampire's measure. Something of a brute, not particularly... thinking in his combat style. Though he had a sneaking suspicion there was more to Albrέkt than just swinging a sword.

Still, he struck back as best he could.

Mace: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (7) + 13 = 20
Bite: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
Mace: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30
Damage: 1d8 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18