As the cultists slumber, or stare lifelessly into the light, you enter into the room. Attacks readied, you immediately let loose with a barrage upon the sole alert inhabitant of the room.
As they move in, Cerio reads the strange words from his piece of parchment. It disintegrates into dust in his hands.
T'eron nods a thankya to Cerio, looks back toward his (mostly) sleeping foes, and fires an arrow at the one in the far left corner.
Shield in one hand, Ulfric whips his sling around in the other, firing at the standing figure.
T'eron fires, and his arrow seems to be guided by some unseen hand. It somehow glides in between foes to strike the sleeping body. A roar comes out a second later, and a woman stands up from the bed. This woman has be be all of seventy years old, and she wears a dirty leather coat over a tattered hospital ground. Her eyes are crazed as she swats at the arrow with a gloved hand, cracking the shaft off while the point remains in her side, then points at the invaders. Drive out the nonbelievers!
The standing cultist looks at the newcomers even as the sling bullet whizzes by his head. He seems confused for a moment, then hears the woman's command. He rushes at Ulfric, calling out to his companions as he does. Get up, get up!
Campus's attack goes off and she stabs out with her spear, but misses the charging man. The cultist, having unsheathed his longsword as he moved, slashes down at Ulfric without hesitation. The blow hits true, slicing into Ulfric's shoulder
The other cultists just roused from their slumber move forward and get into position, some of them having to move over rubble to get there. Two of them grab loaded crossbows on the way. and another, much larger man, pulls a huge greataxe from his back. Miraculously, he had been sleeping with...on top of it.
Cultists
Ulfric
Cerio
T'eron
Bag lady
Cerio produces another greasy parchment and recites its words, an unpleasant combination of sibilant consonants. A sad, teetering halo appears and fades over Ulfric's head.
Ulfric drops his sling and draws his blade, slashing at the man in front of him as he does.
T'eron focuses on one of the the cultists approaching him, and with time seeming to slow to a crawl, fires another arrow.
Ulfric slashes up at the cultist in front of him. The cultist blocks the strike with his sword, but Ulfric's blade slides up and under the crossguard, severing two of the man's fingers in the process. Gah! The man pulls back his hand to his chest, blood gushing as he swaps his sword to his other hand.
Cerio's spell takes affect as T'eron focuses on his target. The slayer lets fly, and an arrow pincushions the cultist directly across the room from him. The cultist lets out a gasp and clutches at his should as he takes aim with his crossbow.
The old woman, amazing spry to a supernatural level, moves around the room, skipping over rubble with ease and even pulling off a completely unnecessary cartwheel as she glides behind her minions to end up behind the cultist engaged with Ulfric. She screeches at the man. Drive them out, kill them! She seems oblivious to her conflicting instructions.
Campus drives out with her spear, impaling the cultist through the throat. She retracts the spear quickly, and the cultist crumples to the ground, hands clutched over his neck in a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood.
The cultists move quickly to enforce their boss's orders. The one with the axe moves forward at nearly a run, then slams his axe down at T'eron. He connects, slamming the axe down on the Slayer's shoulder. A spout of blood flies out as he wrenches the axe back.
The other two move into position and set up with their crossbows high and aiming across at their enemies. Without a proper line of sight, they merely await an opening.
Cultists
Ulfric
Cerio
T'eron
Bag lady
Cerio spits in his palm and rubs his hands together, priming a charge of arcane power. With a bang he releases it, the kickback knocking him off balance. Two glowing green orbs slam into the big ugly lady.
T'eron grits his teeth upon the axe's impact, trying to channel the burning in his shoulder into the sword he's about to bring down.
Ulfric slashes across at the axe-wielder, turning his body slightly to join the battle there between T'eron and his assailant. His slash cuts across, digging a deep and bloody line diagonally across the man's torso. Under the ripped robes and cut leather armor, blood wells up.
T'eron's attack slashes down, digging into the man's shoulder. He hits so hard that the bone breaks, and the man's arm is torn off. It hangs limply at his side, held only by the ripped sleeves of the man's robe.
Cerio sends out two missiles at the bag lady, and each streams around Campus as they hone in on their real target. The passing of air disturbs Campus's hair as the missiles get close enough to burn, where they real flame. The darts slam into the bag lady, and she snarls in anger.
The bag lady, seeing her lackey being ripped apart and feeling the burn of Cerio's missiles, moves backward to stand behind her crossbowmen.
Shoot them down!
From the corner, Campus moves behind Teron and strikes at the yellow clothed cultist.
"Wretch!" Cerio screams, wound up with adrenaline. He steps forward and fires two more blazing orbs at the woman.
Campus moves behind T'eron, stalking the roaring axe-wielder with narrowed eyes. When she sees her moment, she puts a hand on T'eron - a cue they'd worked on, and he moves to the side enough to allow Campus's spear to dart out like a striking viper. The tip takes the cultist in the throat, parting the flesh and hitting a very important artery. Blood spurts as the man falls to the floor, his axe forgotten as his slick hands try to hold his life in.
The two remaining cultists, as if they'd been waiting for this opening, let loose with their crossbows at the front line, one targeting Ulfric and the other at T'eron.
T'eron picks his bow up off the ground and retaliates at the cultist that attacked him.
T'eron lets an arrow fly back, but the cultist dips to the side, and the arrow whizzes past, to clatter on the stone and rubble in the northwest corner of the room.
After T'eron's arrow flies out, Ulfric narrows his eyes and rushes in, charging with a heavy overhead strike of his longsword. The man tries to block with his crossbow, which happens to be the only weapon he has out. Ulfric's heavy sword smashes through the weapon, pushing splinters of wood into the cultist along with the keen edge of his blade. The man cries out in pain and backpedals, clutching chest, where the blade opened a wide gash.
Cerio's missiles fly out and slam into the bag lady again, and she roars in rage. She shifts with supernatural speed and rushes past Ulfric to charge directly at Cerio. Since she's so close, Ulfric slashes out at her...or tries to, but finds that the remains of a shattered crossbow are stuck to the weapon's tip. He grunts as he slaps the debris away to reveal the blade.
Seeing Campus's spear out and ready, she rolls the last few feet in order to duck under the weapon's tip.
As she pops up suddenly in Cerio's view, she snarls. Vile magics!, and swings a gnarled fist at him. Her fist slams into Cerio's nose, bursting it like a ripe tomato. Blood splashes across Cerio's cheek so forcefully that some of it finds Campus's shoulder.
Pinned in a corner, too cramped to use her longspear, Campus shoves her self forward trying to impale the hag with the spikes on her armor.
The bag lady stops Campus with a stiffened palm, her sneering face showing disdain at the attack.
The cultists, seeing their doom among them, get away from the armored half orc in their midst. The injured one, still weaponless and trying to stop his bleeding, backpedals into the corner, where he looks to be rummaging around the bed for something.
The other cultist takes a single step back, dropping his crossbow and pulling a blood-stained crowbar from his belt. He seems fairly unsure as he visually compares the weapon to Ulfric's sword...zealotry seems to only go so far.
Cultists
Ulfric
Cerio
T'eron
Bag lady
Cerio's head snaps back as bright lights and nauseating pain threaten to overtake him. He wipes what's left of his nose with a sleeve, then spits on the bag lady. He grins, revealing bloody teeth. "Sister, y'ain't seen nothin'."
He spits again, this time spewing a cloud of strange, iridescent vapor.
Cerio steps back and lets loose with his spell, and the bag lady's eyes flash with surprise, then drift lazily around as she is completely disoriented. She stops in place, seemingly unable to move.
Campus grips the hag into an embrace, bleeding it out.
"Wait! She might could tell us somethin' 'bout all this!" Cerio's voice is muffled as he clutches his smashed nose.
T'eron, with the woman frozen in front of him, drops his bow, grabs his sword from the ground, and attacks.
They seem to have her under control...
Ulfric presses into the cultist he's been trying to kill and swings his blade again.
T'eron charges toward the furthest cultist and let's an arrow fly.
T'eron presses into the room and fires an arrow at the retreating cultist in the corner. The man is turned away, digging in the bed for something, and the arrow takes him right in the back. The man rears back, immediately putting his hands to his chest where the point of the arrow can be seen sticking through. He turns and stands long enough to breathe out a bubble of blood from his pierced lung before he falls down to the ground.
Ulfric swings mightily at the cultist, who is completely distracted by the fact vision of his immobile leader, laid low by a single spell. Ulfrics sword takes him high, and a gout of blood flies from his opened throat. The man falls to his knees, clutching the wound and wheezing. He drops his crowbar.
Campus looks at Cerio. You think she'll talk?
"Hells if I know!"
Nothing to be gained, nothing to be lost. Campus grips her spear, says a prayer to Cayden, and sends it downward into the hag forcefully.
You finish the bag lady with a violent act, seeming to coincide with how she'd lived her life to now. You get the very certain feeling that you've done a service to mankind by killing the foul woman.
The spear plunges down through the woman's chest and into her guts, no doubt splitting many organs on the way. It glances off of the woman's pelvis, and the point juts out from her inner thigh, dropping blood and viscera onto the floor as her body gives up its last.
The lone remaining cultist clutches his bloody throat with one hand, blood spurting out through his fingers. He clutches at Ulfric's leg, pleading.
To protect others...
Ulfric sighs, the easy way not being the correct one. "If you promise to repent and serve us as penance, then I shall make a case for your life to be spared."
Ulfric kneels down and tries to stabilize the man, struggling as his hands are not meant for the healing arts. "Someone help this man."
"Nope. No way. Not me. No sir. Ain't doin' it." Cerio still clutches his nose, obviously still raw about it.
Campus prays, then a burst of healing light emits from the holy symbol on her forehead.
T'eron, hearing the back-and-forth and its results, puts his bow back in place, retrieves his sword from the ground, and stands guard in case the healed cultist decides to do anything unwise.
The burst of power from Campus affects all those within the room...luckily the other cultists and the bag lady are already quite dead. The lone remaining cultist takes several moments to fix his breathing, which was coming in deep, heaving gasps. Once stilled, he looks up at Ulfric.
Y...yes...what penance...what's that? You get the feeling he doesn't know what the word means, but also doesn't know what penance you require.
The burst of power from Campus affects all those within the room...luckily the other cultists and the bag lady are already quite dead. The lone remaining cultist takes several moments to fix his breathing, which was coming in deep, heaving gasps. Once stilled, he looks up at Ulfric.
Y...yes...what penance...what's that? You get the feeling he doesn't know what the word means, but also doesn't know what penance you require.