Round 1
Initiative 22
Viorel snaps out of his sleep as the spell activates. After a quick swipe across his eyes and a look around seeing the mist he moves toward the place watch was noticing the figures of Abigail and Sacha. Stupid mist I really need to research something to help with this. The thought passes as he tries to shake off the sleep. "Direction and distance?" he asks, walking over to the group.
Initiative 16
As the sound of the alarm washes over the camp, Nathaniel wakes up with a start. Wide-eyed he scrambles to his feet, hyperventilating, before he crouches and frantically begins drawing a small pentacle in the dirt beneath his feet.
Initiative 15
The footsteps turn into the rapid thunking of jogging as they move towards the sound of the bell still ringing in the air.
Faraldur pulls out a stoppered flask he had prepared the day before from his combat vest--a dark and thick brew with a lot of thick mush that has collected at the bottom of the bottle. When he opens it, those nearby catch a distinctly woody, earthen scent before the dwarf downs it in one gulp. Almost immediately after, his skin seems to darken, becoming weathered and hard with the texture of tree bark.
Round 1
Initiative 14
Abigail mounts Sacha and starts chanting, her free hand drawing a spiral in her companion's fur.
Initiative 8
With the noise of the alarm a blaring klaxon in Liette's mind, the young woman awakens with a gasp of breath. Eyes snapped wide, she scrambles onto her side, claws around in the dirt, and then pushes to her hands and knees before springing upright. Gasping for breath she wheels around, looking for immediate danger, then spots Nathaniel drawing a symbol in the ground at his feet.
As far away as she has moved, Abigail is but a smudge in the mist. Withdrawing her revolvers with a swift snap of her wrists, Liette strides over to Nathaniel, seeing the man for the first time. At first assuming him the invader, it's only when she sees the similarities between he and Bartimaeus' facial features that she come sot a stop, mouth slightly agape in silence.
Initiative 6
Barek stands up, grabbing his sword.
Initiative 5
Faraldur pulls out a stoppered flask he had prepared the day before from his combat vest--a dark and thick brew with a lot of thick mush that has collected at the bottom of the bottle. When he opens it, those nearby catch a distinctly woody, earthen scent before the dwarf downs it in one gulp. Almost immediately after, his skin seems to darken, becoming weathered and hard with the texture of tree bark.
End of Round 1
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Begin Round 2
Initiative
Viorel 22
Nathaniel 16
Monster 15
Abigail 14
Liette 8
Barek 6
Faraldur 5
Bartimaeus senses nothing in contact with the ground within thirty feet, other than his companions.
Now little more clear headed Viorel dismisses the activated Alarm spell to help with locating the intruder. He then casts a spell on the big cat engulfing it in a armor made out of force. The mage then snatches one of the alchemist's fires out of his belt in to his hand.
Round 2
Initiative 22
Now little more clear headed Viorel dismisses the activated Alarm spell to help with locating the intruder. He then casts a spell on Barek engulfing him in a armor made out of force. The mage then snatches one of the alchemist's fires out of his belt in to his hand.
Initiative 16
A burst of smoke erupts out of the pentacle and Bartimaeus steps forth, drawing his sword. Closing his eyes, he raises his free hand to his forehead and taps it gently with silver light.
Initiative 15
As the footsteps grow closer and closer, three corpulent men reel out of the mists as if drunk in front of Abigail and Faraldur. A closer inspection reveals the horrific truth—they’re not so much reeling as they're is seething from within, as if their internal organs were coiling and writhing like a knot of greased snakes. Suddenly, with a hideous retching and tearing sound, their faces bloom out like a rotten flower and pallid, five-jawed worms extrude themselves from the ragged holes in the neck where, only a moment before, a head sat. These things are wielding greatswords, and seem to have no problems navigating the mists.
All three of them swing their swords at the lion in front of them.
The blades cut into the cat's leather barding, but are unable to pierce it or Sacha's thick hide.
The druid may cast a spell with a target of “You” on her animal companion (as a touch range spell) instead of on herself. A druid may cast spells on her animal companion even if the spells normally do not affect creatures of the companion's type (animal). Spells cast in this way must come from a class that grants an animal companion. This ability does not allow the animal to share abilities that are not spells, even if they function like spells.
If not for his many years spent wandering the thankless landscape of the 'Wound, Faraldur would surely have relinquished the contents of his stomach at the sight of the putrid bulbous demon faces exploding into terrible twisted forms right in front of him. As it is, he is taken aback, staring at the creatures blankly for a few moments, unable to recall a single thing about such disturbing fiends.
"Blasted deviant worm things!! Get away from our camp!" He steps back, drawing a grenade and throwing it directly at his feet. The subsequent blast explodes into the mist, leaving Faraldur with a soot-encrusted face and spiking his ever-spiked hair back even more. (At least it explains his 'do...) Another flask is in his hand afterwards, this one containing a clear liqueur of some kind.
Hearing the noises of the creatures and seeing the bloom of flame within the fog from Faraldur's bomb, Liette taps Bartimaeus on the shoulder and jerks her head in that direction in silent indication. Hurrying across the field, she grips her revolvers tightly, eyes focused on the orange glow within the fog of the bomb's burning remains on the ground.
As the writhing, jerking silhouettes in teh fog become clearer, Liette's pace slows. But when those hideous creatures are revealed for what they are -- glistening faces split open like a starfish's body, bristling with teeth, writhing entrails and twisted limbs -- her mouth opens in a mixture of revulsion and horror, fear briefly flashing in her eyes.
"Holy ஃபக்," Liette croaks in a choked hiss.
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Barek hears the commotion of the intruders and moves around the expanding Sacha to intercept.
He growls and the blood pumps into his arms as the rage takes him. He then swings his heavy blade at the creature.
AC: 15 (17 if vs. outsider or abberation)
HP: 110/110
SD: +2 resistance to saves vs outsider or abberation, +2 morale to Will saves (rage)
Rage: Active (1 of 21 used)
Round 2
Initiative 14
Erastil protect us! What monstrosity! thinks Abigail as she finishes her spell and senses Sacha grow underneath her as she too, asks for his support in this time of need. The cleric also grows to giant size.
Pushed by her master, Sacha opens with a thundering roar as she lashes at the horrors, while Abigail stabs at them with her spear. The huge feline tears one of the worm-like creatures to shreds, while the giant Abigail runs her spear through a second [ooc(#2)[/ooc].
Initiative 8
Initiative 6
Barek hears the commotion of the intruders and moves around the expanding Sacha to intercept. He growls and the blood pumps into his arms as the rage takes him. He then swings his heavy blade at the creature Abigail just stabbed. He slices it cleanly in two at such velocity that it splatters everywhere.
Initiative 5
If not for his many years spent wandering the thankless landscape of the 'Wound, Faraldur would surely have relinquished the contents of his stomach at the sight of the putrid bulbous demon faces exploding into terrible twisted forms right in front of him. As it is, he is taken aback, staring at the creatures blankly for a few moments, unable to recall a single thing about such disturbing fiends.
"Blasted deviant worm things!! Get away from our camp!" He steps back, drawing a grenade and throwing it directly at his feet.
The Vermlek in front of him take the opening to swing at Faraldur.
It misses horribly.
The subsequent blast explodes into the mist, leaving Faraldur with a soot-encrusted face and spiking his ever-spiked hair back even more. (At least it explains his 'do...) Another flask is in his hand afterwards, this one containing a clear liqueur of some kind. The demon in front of him is badly burned. Sacha catches a bit of the blast as well.
Initiative 5-
Hearing the noises of the creatures and seeing the bloom of flame within the fog from Faraldur's bomb, Liette taps Bartimaeus on the shoulder and jerks her head in that direction in silent indication. Hurrying across the field, she grips her revolvers tightly, eyes focused on the orange glow within the fog of the bomb's burning remains on the ground.
As the writhing, jerking silhouettes in teh fog become clearer, Liette's pace slows. But when those hideous creatures are revealed for what they are -- glistening faces split open like a starfish's body, bristling with teeth, writhing entrails and twisted limbs -- her mouth opens in a mixture of revulsion and horror, fear briefly flashing in her eyes.
"Holy ஃபக்," Liette croaks in a choked hiss.
End of Round 2
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Begin Round 3
Initiative
Viorel 22
Nathaniel 16
Monster 15
Abigail 14
Barek 6
Faraldur 5
Liette 5-
Hearing the fighting and seeing some of it Viorel circles around Sacha and cast a simple spell shooting four darts made of force against the remaining enemy trying to finish it off.
Round 3
Initiative 22
Hearing the fighting and seeing some of it Viorel circles around Sacha and cast a simple spell shooting four darts made of force against the remaining enemy trying to finish it off.
In his attempt to avoid the demons probing sword thrusts, his spell is disrupted.
Initiative 16
Raising his blade, Bartimaeus steps up into the air, dropping down on the ground to check the position of the enemies, circling around to strike them from behind before he lets loose. His falcion cuts a long slash in the last remaining demon, but it still stands.
Initiative 15
The Vermlek crawls hideously out of its host and leaves behind an empty sack of skin and bits of gristle. It slithers into the ground, burrowing out of sight. All of the heroes can hear its alien slithering voice echoing through their minds. "તમે જે મરણાધીન દિલગીરી આવશે."
"We will see demon." He notes offhanded towards the escaping creature. As Bartimaeus talks he turns towards him or would it be more accurate. "I think the praise should go to our watch for clever use." He then starts walking back towards his sleeping area with a yawn. "Now I don't know who of you speak the demons tongue but it implied to revenge this. While I doubt it will return tonight, if it has friends nearby or was actual scout we might be in for a nasty battle before the night is over. Because of that I would like to get back to sleep as soon as possible. If we need additional healing at the moment I have a wand, allthough some of you might not agree with the source."
Breathing heavily, Liette squints against the fog and clenches her jaw shut. "What the ஃபக் was that!?" Staring at the ground where the slithering creature burrowed, the tactician seems at a loss. After a moment, she looks up to the others, then takes a step back and exhales a sharp breath. It's clear her hands are shaking from the rattling of her revolvers.
When the last disgusting Vermlek slithers away from the fight, Faraldur relaxes his tensed muscles and heaves a heavy sigh. Pocketing his unused extract again, he wanders over to one of the 'shells' and crouches over it. "Bloody hell," he mutters, shaking his head sadly.
"I think we should burn these... bodies... in the morning when we can see more than a hair's breadth in front of ourselves again. Commit the ashes to the earth or sky rather than give those damned things a chance to take control of them again."
A little later, with the business side of things dealt with, the dwarf wordlessly approaches Liette and hands her one of his silver hip flasks. It's filled with strong whiskey. He won't bother her about anything, but nonetheless remains reasonably nearby and awake until she seems to calm down somewhat. He'll then return to his bedroll for some sleep.
Morning comes, and with it the mists recede.
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Spells refreshed and blue form up, Bartimaeus deftly packs away his items before turning to watch the disposal of the bodies. He explains his interest with "Outsiders like myself are either banished or disappear into vapor when 'killed'. I have seen death through Nathaniel's eyes, but never these 'death rites' you Material creatures perform. Forgive me but I do feel some curiosity."
"We lack the proper utilities to give them a pyre," Liette comments in the morning after the attack, having slept poorly for the remaining few hours. As she dons her mithral chain and jacket, she looks down at the husks that remained of the human corpses. "The best we can hope is to bury them in a shallow grave and give them rites... pray that they do not rise again."
Looking over to Bartimaeus, Liette offers a look of sympathy, then recalls their dwarven companion's specialty and turns her attention to Faraldur. "Unless you have some alchemist fire. Then we don't need anything. That will burn them down to cinders."
Viorel is shaving at the moment after a few quick strokes he responds to Bartimaues. "If I am not mistaken, most things from the outer planes do not have seperate body and soul. I think part of it's custom. Helps with the grief. Then there is the undead for practical reasons. In my opinion the major reason is respect for the dead." The mage then starts picking up his belongings and turns to look at Abigail. "Flesh burns as any wood with proper flame. That being said it would be better to have something to get the fire going. Actually..." Remembering something he picked up some times ago he picks up a vial. "I do have some tar that at the time was thought to be something more that could help. If there is something left from the campfire that could be used. I do have some alchemist's fire but I am not too keen on using enhancing components in the field when not sure when resupplying is available. But I would do that much more happy than use up my limited spells for it. If no other option is available that would work." Viorel continues now talking more to the group as a whole.
"Do I have some alchemist's fire... heh heh," the dwarf chuckles to himself. "I could probably give a hundred of these guys a final salute with the amount of alchemist's fire I have."
"As for resupplying," Faraldur looks to Viorel in particular, "I'm starting to run a bit low on the appropriate chemicals and so forth, that's for sure, but I can whip up some more 'fire in an evening or two if I've got enough."
Faraldur is willing to do the deed of setting the corpses alight with a vial of alchemist's fire or two, dragging them a short distance from the camp to do so.
Faraldur drags the grisly bodies away and disposes of them with a blaze of alchemist's fire.
After dealing with the poor souls who were the victims of the Vermleks, the group finishes making their morning preparations and heads out again.
08/24/4712
The day passes without incident, miles of scrubland rolling by under sweltering heat. Time comes to make camp, and the night also passes shrouded in the ever present mists that haunt this land's dark hours.
08/25/4712 15:30
The next day goes similarly until mid afternoon.
As they are riding across the plains, suddenly the group again hears the voice of the demon-worm in their minds. Its chaotic evil befouls their cortex as it says, "તમે મારા ભાઇઓ હત્યા કરી શકે છે, પરંતુ આપણે કેવી રીતે તમને અમારા પાલતુ સામે ભાડું!"
Begin Surprise Round
Without further warning a hideous creature comes erupting up out of the ground ten feet in front of Barek. It resembles a two and half meter long flatworm with a circular mouth full of rows of razor sharp rotating teeth. It flies forward into the air, streaming dirt and grass off its back, charging directly towards Barek. Before he can react it lunges at him with its maw.
It latches onto his chest and immediately begins rapidly eating its way into his chest cavity, causing massive damage to his blood-rich organs. A most unpleasant feeling.
End Surprise Round
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Begin Round 1
Initiative
Monster 30
Barek 21
Abigail 13
Viorel 7+
Liette 7-
Faraldur 6+
Nathaniel 6-
Vermlek 2
Round 1
Initiative 30
The worm thing continues to burrow into Barek's chest.
Still somewhat in shock that there is something suddenly eating him, Barek is unable to pull the worm free.
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Bartimaeus turns around quickly, eyes wide before narrowing. Dropping his sword, he dives down from the sky, deliberately brushing by Viorel, calling out "Grab my arm!" curtly.
With the sorcerer clinging onto him, Bartimaeus finishes his descent, free hand stretched out towards Barek. Muttering a syllable, he, Viorel, and Barek vanish...
...and reappear right next to Viorel.
2nd—barkskin, invisibility, 2 slots open
1st—shield, true strike, 3 slots open
Dexterity mutagen
He also makes sure his rifle is loaded (since he fired it once the day before).
Half-dozing in the saddle, Faraldur is abruptly awoken by a foul and cruel tongue echoing in his mind, followed by some hideous abyssal worm with a thousand teeth that promptly gorges itself on Barek. "I wish you weren't right about this, Viorel!" Faraldur shouts at the sorcerer in frustration, leaping out of the saddle and landing on the tarnished ground with a heavy thump. He retrieves his rifle from his "stone dumb f@&!ing useless beast of burden"'s saddlebags and trains the sight on the worm beast, firing a round into its flesh that seems to do very little at all.
Draw rifle.
vs. worm
Hearing the dissonant abyssal voice murmuring in her mind, Liette's head jerks around and her back tenses up. The scream that erupts from Barek followed by his feral growling as he struggles with the worm elicits swift action on her part. Shooting a look up to the skies for the barest of moments, she begins to run around the back of Viorel's horse, coming to a skidding stop in the dusty soil beside its left flank.
Exhaling sharply, she whips out one pistol and grips it with both hands, closing one eye shut. Steadily training her aim, the barrel wavers left and right as she hones the flatworm in the crosshairs, trying carefully not to shoot Barek in the process.
___________
Barek cries out in pain as the creature burrows into his chest and looks down in shock as it continues its feasting. The pain and shock shudder through him as the rage takes him, before he tries to remove the creature from him.
HP: 46/110
AC: 18 (20 vs. outsiders/abberations)
DR: 3/-
+2 saves vs outsiders/abberations
Rage: active (2 of 21 used)