Calas felt his teeth clamp down on the fools neck. It tore through muscle, tissue, and veins. Blood poured out, and Calas drank. The fluid flowed smoothly and quickly. The blood though, stopped too soon, and Calas was left wanting.
He tossed the limp body to the side and scanned the area. He wanted more. NEEDED it. The closest drow kneeled next to the matron and his mother. He was covered in blood.
Calas snapped at himself.NO!
He recognized the drow as one of the house guards. There were other more viable sources. Then, a masked figure jumped down from the tier above, falling out of sight behind the stage. A hostile figure who was heading toward the matron and the guard. That was someone he could drink from.
Running around the stage, Calas caught the assassin before he could climb up. An excellent meal.
Nathaniel grins at the unfortunate drow.
This may hurt a bit.
His shoulder twitches as a quick jab launches out at the drows chin. Almost immediately, Nathaniel's other fist flies at the drow's temple.
The creature cannot see. It takes a –2 penalty to Armor Class, loses its Dexterity bonus to AC (if any), and takes a –4 penalty on most Strength- and Dexterity-based skill checks and on opposed Perception skill checks. All checks and activities that rely on vision (such as reading and Perception checks based on sight) automatically fail. All opponents are considered to have total concealment (50% miss chance) against the blinded character. Blind creatures must make a DC 10 Acrobatics skill check to move faster than half speed. Creatures that fail this check fall prone. Characters who remain blinded for a long time grow accustomed to these drawbacks and can overcome some of them.
Nathaniel appears relieved for some reason, even though his strikes were...err...Crap!
As one of the attackers stumbles over a ledge and lands directly next to Vantrag, she gets a good look at them for the first time
but although their dress looks somewhat familiar, she can't quite place it right now.
What matters more is taking them down. She pulls her dagger (simply dropping her crossbow to the floor where she's lying) and leans over to stab at the figure before he can do anything to her.
Vacalan summons a hound of hell and the pair nearly drop the amusher. He tries to swing at the wizard, but his wounds overcome him and he drops. Everyone else does their best to not look like idiots with mixed success.
The skeleton takes a hit, but it's inconsequential and the Drow finally gets smart. He ducks behind the pilar, narrowly dodging the sketon's razor sharp talons, and drops down next to Severance! Now Nathan has to choose to turn his back on a foe, or let his mistress expire! And, as if the cosmos thought he needed a reminder, the foe shakes off his blindness and fixes him with a downright murderous glare.
And he's not the only one! As if on cue a mob of foes rush the Podium! The Defenders of House Kewadin are taken off guard and everyone misses their chance to strike! One man, the one who escaped Calas, dives for Neithe and Plunges his sword into her abdomen! Two more, one that had just taken cover from Vantrag and one that slips past Hakk, close on the Matron!
Vantrag's man stands and takes a hit from the inquisitor (Vantrag, do your damage), but she immediately takes a hit in return! (and take 5)
Well this certainly made things more... difficult. He took a step back as the assailant closed with the matron and Neithe. He pulled up the crossbow loosing an acidic round at the one assualting Neith.(B) That round fired he continued his spin the next round heading for the fool in front of the matron. (C)
3 acid
2 fire
Mourn turns himself into a living turret and fires two rapid shots at targets on opposite sides of him! Both hit, and just like that, only one man threatens the Matron.
Having no idea what's going on on the podium... or anywhere else except right around him.... Azzra'el stands defensively a moment, getting enough information from Oblivion that he knows he's not threatened at the moment... Still, he holds his blade at the ready, just in case. He does his best not to blink, shake his head, or squint, not willing to give anyone who DOES approach him an inkling that he's not sighted, for that would reveal a weakness.
Still he tries to be aware, via Oblivion and his sense of hearing, of what is going on elsewhere in the room.
Since he knows his mother and grandmother are in danger, he makes his way gingerly stepping over the bodies of the dead and dying, and leaps off the balcony, levitating down to the lower levels one at a time. When he gets to the bottom, he'll be coming down right on the one standing over the matron....hopefully silently and without warning.
The skeleton follows it's prey after lashing out, unrelenting in it's pursuit.
Landing behind it's victim the skeleton strikes yet again.
Meanwhile the hound moves on to more lively prey at it's master's gesture.
Easily making the jump, the hellish creature lands lightly for something of it's size and brings it's jaws to bare on the puny drow.
The beast teeth are not only daggers but blades wrapped in hellfire as they clamp down. Vicalan for his part see's no direct threat to himself, conservative in his use of spells and resources he uses the loathsome crossbow. Taking aim at any remaining enemies, choosing the closest to his position. Reloading afterwards, he needed to acquire himself a wand or item for these sorts of situations in the future.
Calas lungs at his prey as he jumps onto the stage but narrowly misses the drow's ankle as he disappears over the edge.
You're not getting away
Following his prey, Calas jumps onto the stage just in time to see his mother get stabbed. Before he could move to her defense though, a crossbow bolt lodges in the attacker and he falls over dead.
After a moments hesitation Calas gives a nod of respect to the guard that fired the bolt. Then he runs towards his grandmother, the matron. He jumps over her and faces the attacker. He was hungry, but the matron was in trouble. A different attack was needed. Calas thrust out his palm at his opponents abdomen.
If this hits, he'll feel it
Potion of Mage Armor: 59 minutes 48 seconds remaining
Potion of Barkskin: 9 minutes 48 seconds remaining
Potion of Shield of Faith: 48 seconds remaining
Boots, Daredevil Softpaws 8 rounds remaining
Rage: 5 rounds remaining
Stunning fists left: 0
"KILLLL YOUUU MOREEE!!!!!"
Hakk is charging the one closest to the matron!
Possible Crit!
Nathaniel quickly reacts. He grabs hold of the drow's shirt sleeves, yanks them forward, then ties them in a knot together.
He then nods at him, as he steps over his mistress' body to face the new threat.
With an annoyed sigh Saeras discards his crossbow - there appeared to be a distinct lack of people willing to get shot at the movement! Instead he heads down into the fray, drawing his hidden blade as he does. It wouldn't be fitting if the mistress came to her senses and all between her and death was a slave, now would it? he chuckled to himself and fantasized about his surely grand reward to come, nearly tripping over the last ledge.
With with a last minute adjustment he didn't and instead turned it into a somewhat styleish landing and channelled the momentum into the tip of his sword, which in turn struck the drow assailant from above and behind.
Positioning himself directly over his mistress, Nathaniel peers around for any immediate threats.
Things certainly stay entertaining around here!
Dropping his crossbow and pulling out his rapier, Phase slashes at his foe, cutting him deeply.
Vantrag gathers herself and stands up from the floor, although she knows that will give her opponent an opening.
She focuses her alchemical magic, still lingering on her hands, into her dagger and makes one last attempt to stab him, planning to run away as soon as she can.
The drow wiffs his chance to cut Vantrag as she stands.
The two remaining drow are cornered, and they know it. Both lash out at their targets, hoping to take someone with them.
And both miss.
Vantrag retreats to her allies and the remaining drow are easily cut down.
You rush to examine your matron and Neithe. There is an expanding pool of blood under Neithe's body. She is dead.
The matron is alive... maybe. She doesn't breathe. Doesn't respond. Yet she has an extremely faint, extremely slow heartbeat.
Nopos is also very dead. The stone sticking out of his chest probably weighs 75 pounds. His stone golem is inactive and damaged, but not destroyed.
Severance is alive, but unconscious like her mother. Her condition is not as severe, but she doesn't come to no matter what you do.
You can hear occasional sounds of battle through the thick stone. It doesn't sound good.
"MOther? Dead? No!!! " for all his drow noble coldness, he did love his mother in his own way... He puts his sword in the nearest opponent for a coup de grace as he cries out in anquish... "You bastards!"
When he's done, he drops down by the Matron's side. "Come on, grandmama... you can make it...stay with us!... somebody heal her please?" He casts about blindly staring between and beyond the others gathered around... "surely at least one of you is a priestess?"
Hakk immediately checks both the matron and his mother and seeing that they are still alive he turns to look glaringly at the others.
He now talks quickly and clearly without his usual monstrous hissing or petty annoyances. As he speaks one of his smaller child-like
hands pulls out a slim wand of some sort of petrified black mushroom stalk.
"Saved by the will of Lolth! Here someone take this wand of minor healing who can use it properly and makes the rounds with the
still living, starting with the Matron and Severence! Don't hold back, it is almost fully charged!"
After that Hakk immediately moves towards the edge of the center platform and faces the room's exit and pulls out another wand, this one appears to be of dark iron with an amethyst tip.
"Does anybody know another way out of here? We maybe trapped by another House trying to destroy us! Otherwise we need to be
prepared to push out of here as a group quickly!"
Hakk will attempt to blast the first enemy he sees coming through the door or anywhere else in his view with his Iron wand.
Phae will take the wand first offered by Hakk and will use it on the Matron before anybody else.
As the battle ended Calas was still hungry, and there was still prey to be had. When he looked around though, his stomach turned. Friends and family were all that were left and they were not the ones he wanted to sink his teeth into. He gripped his mind firmly, fighting down the hunger and shuddered as his rage ended and clarity returned to his thoughts.
Then he heard Azzra'el's cry. Mother... Damnit
Calas walked over and knelt next to Neithe's body. It was his fault she had died. The assassin that had gutted her was within his reach and he had let them get away. He looked down at the pooled blood and grimaced. He hadn't been a full-blooded drow, but she'd been sure that he'd been trained. He remembered that she would often sit in on his training session. She'd watched Calas as his eldest brother instructed him in the ways of combat.
Another part of Calas lamented for her loss in another way though. He was a thin-blood. Without her, his word and life had less importance in drow society. Also, as far as he knew, she was the only one who knew who his father was.
The sound of ringing swords and death didn't leave him time to grieve though. Calas swiped a finger through his mother's blood and brought it to his lips. He drank the small bit of blood. Then, using a shuriken, he cut off a small lock of her hair. He tucked the hair into a pouch.
With his momentos secured, Calas joined Azzra'el next to their grandmother.
"I've potions brother, but they're for me. They'd only kill her if I gave her one. I'm sure someone here has a potion or some magic to heal her and our aunt though," said before looking around. He looked over the dead, his family, and then finally, the assassins.
Hakk'Viddaro spoke up then, offering up a wand of healing.
"Tend to our aunt and grandma, brother. I'm no good with magic," he said soothingly to his brother. Then continued in a angrier tone, "I'm going to check the bodies." Calas moved out of the way so Phaenox could get to the matron with Hakk's wand.
Calas moves to check over the bodies and to usher those allies he finds alive towards the stage. Hopefully no one he passed would notice the tear that had snuck its way down his face.
Calas, you find several hand crossbows, rapiers, longswords, and sets of leather armor. The attackers packed light. You also locate two potions of healing . Strange, there should be more...
You notice that some of the attackers have slashes and tears in their clothing that didn't come from youall. These guys were in a fight before youall woke up. That could explain the lack of healing among them.
You also note that one of them still lives! The one Saeras put to sleep should be coming around any minute now.
Calas slipped the potions he finds into his potion pouch. They weren't useful to him, but they could save someone else. Perhaps soon too.
Calas stands in front of the one who is still alive, waiting for him to wake up.
This one should have some answers.
Then as an after-thought Calas calls to the others. "This steaming pile of digested goblin roth dung is still alive."
He had no skill with healing... and he thought it perhaps wise that he not be near the matron if she suddenly woke up and demanded someones head for this... Instead of worrying about the attackers he moved and began to check on the fallen drow of House Kewadin. if there were any other surviving guards he wanted them up and moving asap. More importantly he was hoping one of the officers of the house guard survived... While he had aspirations to be an officer of the guard... he didnt want it to be because he was the only guard left standing.
Where is mistress Xerdwi? Mistress Malatrass?
He called back to the others reminding them of the 3rd and 4th daughter of the house respectively. He also reloaded his crossbow magazing of bolts. He had a feeling this was going to be a hell of a long day.
Once the last enemy drops Vicalan relaxes slightly, that is until his hell hound turns to Hakk. Eyes blazing and nostrils wide.
"I'll have none of that. Fetch everything you can off that body with the skeleton."
He spoke in the harsh hellish tongue, knowing full well the hound could understand him. It lowered it's ears and slink to it's task, it's eyes still hungry upon Hakk even as it obeyed. Vicalan needed his summons to strip Nopos as the sounds of battle were not far off. He mostly ignored the nobles in favor of picking over what was left of the mages and near by dead. He does take note of the surviving enemy, that was good. They needed information, still supplies would not hurt.
As he goes about his task his clothes shift to plain black robes and he pockets a intact mask from one of the fallen enemies. With both he could easily change his appearance to that of theirs, it would allow him to slip out should they be encountered in great numbers. He had other tricks in mind as well, yet he was ever the conservative and opportunistic kind.
Vicalan - You find nothing of real worth. The bodies of your fellow mages seem to have been picked clean. There is a scroll of Magic Missile and a scroll of Delusional Pride, but they are found among the lesser drow as you make your way over. Someone has picked this room clean. How long were you out?
Eyeing the familiar drow warily, Nathaniel stands stoically over his mistress.
Any of you able to use a cure wand?
The wand is used and all the noble's physical wounds are healed, yet they do not wake. They seem to be somehow locked on the edge of death.
Searching the area for survivors yields nothing. Youall are the last drow standing in this room. You get a nagging feeling that your flash-vision of Lolth wasn't just because you hit your heads really hard.
"My deepest condolences." Saeras patted Azzra'el on the back with some sincerity. While he didn't really care that much for the dead woman on a personal level, Azzra'el was at least sorta nice. And it things progress in this pace, there will be plenty of vacant positions... Now the hard part actually seemed to make sure there were some nobles left so there would still be a house, rather then clearing the path. One thing at a time. Bleh. Saeras sighed and sheathed his sword-cane.
This was one of the times he wondered if fruit-monger hadn't been a nice career after all!
So, what do we have? A pitful number of survivors ... Searas looked around and surveyed the scene. He heard the faint sounds of combat echoing down, so there were *some* others at the very least. That was good. And Calas seems to have found his prize.
"That one will be out for a minute more at least; hours more if he can't handle the poison." Saeras commented and made his way up, handing over a pair of manacles. "I figured we'd save him for later, for something *very* drawn-out ..." He afforded himself a small chuckle and retrieved his crossbow. "The assailants wear the garb of House Vandree. With this ones confession, we could call down all the other houses on them for their insolence. Assuming we survive that long!"
Vicalan pockets the scrolls, placing them neatly in his scroll box. Someone had looted the dead yet left him untouched, very odd. If not the enemy then their was a thief that knew of the attack, or took advantage of the attack. Perhaps they knew of the family event and thought to pillage the less secured portions of the house, upon the blast they came to take advantage. Avoiding even the wounded yet living as not to risk them waking maybe. The theories swirled in his mind for a moment before he pushed them aside, it was a shame that so little was left. Maybe he would track down the thief later, he was familiar with much of the House's magical items.
He strolled up to the others.
"If their is any healing left, I would request some."
Before any snide remarks are to be had he cuts them off.
"I would point out that my minions proved quite useful. It would be unfortunate if I was forced to consider my own safety due to remaining in a weakened state before all other concerns."
He made a point of looking at the bodies his creatures had savaged near the nobles. Using his magic detecting eyes he looked upon the nobles that are still slumbering despite their healing, his first guess was a curse or enchantment.
"That reminds me, do remember this mask and mark should we encounter anymore such enemies."
He slips one hand across the blood of a corpse then upon the mask he took earlier. Marking it with two long red smudges as if some dying victim had sought to grab his face upon their death. Something that marked him from the others yet not enough for the enemy to think him an imposter should he don it and copy their garb by way of his magical item.
Hakk will cough over his shoulder to Phaenox with the healing wand.
"If they won't wake, start healing the rest of us. Hurry!"
We need to get them some place--relatively--safe while we clear out these drow scum!
Nathaniel smiles wickedly.
Azzra'el turns suddenly at the pat on his back, but Saeras can see that his gaze seems vacant, his eyes not connecting directly to Saeras himself when he turns to face whomever touched him... He looks, well, no other way to say it... blind... though he seems too proud to admit it.
He manages to croak out a soft "Thank you." Despite his pride, his face is streaked with tears shed... his mother dead, Matron and aunt in dire straits.
"Let's clear this hall of the dead... house dead to the crypts... and a pile of the assailants here in the hall until we get some answers... The Matron and Severance should be taken to their chambers to be treated and cared for there. Are there any other survivors that are in such a state of suspension? Perhaps they should go to the infirmary. By Lolth's will, we WILL survive this and become all the stronger for it! House Vandree will NOT wreak it's havoc on us and succeed. Kewadin will prevail!"
Nathaniel looks at Azzra'el.
If i may suggest; that we hide them. If there are assassins about than their personal chambers are forfiet.
He turns to Hakk.
Agreed. And if we are their only line of revenge then healing would be needed!
"You may have a point... to the safe room then... They may not be as comfortable there, but better protected 'tis true."
Calas frowned down at the unconscious assassin. As far as he knew, there wasn't a way to tell when the idiot was going to wake up. However, he couldn't just be left there and they couldn't leave him. He was a useful source of information. So Calas stripped the assassin of his mask and weapons then bound the assassin's hands behind his back with a sash.
Then, he hefted him up over his shoulders and brought the limp drow to the center of the room. Then dropped him on the floor as he stepped up next to Vicalan, who had just finished his short lecture.
"Don't believe we ever properly met," Calas says to Vicalan, "I'm Calas Kewadin, and I agree. Every one of us should be healed. It will be hard enough getting out alive, even without carrying these three."
He frowned as he said the last part. Something just wasn't right about carrying a priestess around...
...bound the assassin's hands behind his back with a sash.
Saeras commented and made his way up, handing over a pair of manacles.
"If our curiosity comes first, I have some antitoxin for the venom. Can't promise he will get back up, but it should boost his chances considerably. But it would have to be right away ..." the drow pulls out a small unmarked vial from somewhere within his coat, holding it up for Calas. "... Do we think he has anything he'll spit out quick enough to be worth it?"
"Just give it to him.. quickly now... we need to question him as soon as possible... we need to know if there will be a second wave of attackers and if so, what form that attack will take... and who orchestrated this as well."
He reaches out a hand and places it on Calas' arm clumsily. "Forgive me, brother, but I can't see a thing, not since the initial blast.... Still," he says, gripping Calas' arm more firmly in emphasis, "We must find out what we can immediately and take action if necessary, sooner rather than later."