Konstantin points and the white ray lances out at the "dwarf."
Roshan
AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 12. . (+5 Dex, +2 Monk(wisdom))
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +4
5' step away from new antagonists and throw or punch.
"Skeletons!? Great. I did not pack for skeletons this morning!" grumbles Míril. She quickly draws her short bow and fires an arrow into the nearest foe. "I don't think my arrows are going to do a whole lot!"
priest
skel
skel
skel
"Nkosi ebusuku amasende aphuce." Anevia swears as she attempts to stand up, shove Aravashnial out of the line of fire from the interior door, and pulls out her bow. It looks painful. Successful, but painful.
Roshan takes a quick step back throwing two kunai at one of the newly emerged skeletons, both miss.
Drea dodges and weaves through the ranks of the undead, until she plants herself next to one ... and waits, holding at the ready.
At the exterior doorway Gwerm hesitates, fatal if he were in melee combat.
The skeleton Drea moved next to draws back a clawed hand...
As soon as the monster next to Drea makes a threatening move, before its strike has a chance to connect, Drea's head flashes forward and her fangs clamp around a bone, tearing it free from the creature as she yanks her head back again. But the creature continues its piercy attack of doom. However it misses as it crumbles to dust.
The other skeleton, who Roshan ineffectively attacked, however, manages to score the tiefling with one claw. The second misses only because of Drea's guarded stance.
The priest, the last vestiges of dwarvity falling away to reveal the completely expected dried husk, is still wearing old and tattered robes of Torag. Although he... it... takes advantage of the undead pressing Drea, it is unable to claw her.
The final skeleton moves to cut off the people in the doorway from the inevitable bloodbath in the room. He claws at Roshan, but misses.
Konstantin points and the white ray lances out at the "dwarf." Despite the press of combat and the people in the intervening space, the cold flakes ancient skin and withered flesh from the undead.
"Skeletons!? Great. I did not pack for skeletons this morning!" grumbles Míril. She quickly draws her short bow and fires an arrow into the nearest foe. "I don't think my arrows are going to do a whole lot!" And she proves her point when her shot, despite being perfectly aimed and solidly hiting the rib of one of the skeletons, does less than nothing.
"Not very hospitable of you," Chancre says to the dwarf as he casts a helpful little spell on himself.
"Neither my race nor my former god have any problems with being inhospital to those in league with the abyss. I may have been forsaken by Torag, but I have my self-respect, you know."
From the antechamber, "I do apologize, but I prefer to ignore the existance of the divine in my studies as, frankly, any help from that corridor tends to occur far too late to be of any true use." A pause, "It doesn't seem to be demonic based on either your description and its rhetoric though." Aravashnial seems always willing to state the obvious.
priest
skel
skel
skel
Roshan raises a kunai above his head, eyes quickly flashing over the rest of the party. He slaps the heavy, blunt hilt of the throwing knife, meaningfully and nods to their opponents before sliding diagonally to offer Miril flanking...should his blow not dispatch their immediate opponent.
Roshan
AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 12. . (+5 Dex, +2 Monk(wisdom))
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +4
As Roshan moves past the skeleton next to him and Miril he delivers a powerful empi strike with his left elbow, caving in its skull at the left temple and knocking it prone.
"Neither my race nor my former god have any problems with being inhospital to those in league with the abyss. I may have been forsaken by Torag, but I have my self-respect, you know."
Drea spits the bone out of her mouth. "You know, after spending the past few days protesting my innocence until I sound like a broken magic mouth spell, it's actually pleasant not to give a flying بتھ what you think about me."
Drea nods at Roshan's gesture. "Blunt weapons or blunt ammunition will work better on the minions. No idea if that's the case for the ex-priest."
"Um. Any chance I could get a little help back here from anyone?"
Action: As a swift action, use Silver Scale to lay hands on self. Then unarmed strike with punishing kick (to knock prone) to the ex-priest, followed by a bite attack on the skeleton. Continue fighting defensively.
Possible Text: Drea's Silver Scale glows, and a small portion of the damage she sustained from the skeleton's claw heals itself. Then she kicks the ex-priest in the withered face, sending him toppling prone to the ground, down but decidedly not out. Her fangs flash once again towards the skeleton beside her, but this time fail to close on bone.
AC 16
hp 4
Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +4
A five-foot step up ("north") to lessen the chances of being flanked while keeping in a good position for flanking with others / able to stomp on his head with an AoO if he tries to get up (assuming I succeeded in knocking him down and am conscious to take it) also seems to be in order here.
Oh, and if I need to roll that potential AoO:
Seeing Drea fighting all be herself, Míril steps farther into the room. With a--possibly vain--hope that the former dwarf may be more susceptible to her pointy weapons, she takes aim at the ex-priest.
"Well, let's see if yonder ex-priest is as proof against the pointy as his minions," she says as she looses her arrow.
Anevia carefully lines up a shot on the undead unpriest. Despite the press of the bodies in the doorway, she manages one shot high the tags the huecuva in the shoulder.
As Roshan moves past the skeleton next to him and Miril he delivers a powerful empi strike with his left elbow, caving in its skull at the left temple and knocking it prone and into bone fragments.
Drea's Silver Scale glows, and a small portion of the damage she sustained from the skeleton's claw heals itself. Then she kicks the ex-priest in the withered face, sending him toppling prone to the ground, down but decidedly not out. Her fangs flash once again towards the skeleton beside her, but this time fail to close on bone.
The huecuva stands up, despite a nasty kick from Drea which breaks off more skin... but his clawed attack is ineffectual to say the least.
The final, undamaged skeleton, continues to mindlessly pursue his target. One of his claws do manage to get through Drea's defenses.
Konstantin fires his ray at the closest skeleton but the cold blast is a bit too high.
Seeing Drea fighting all be herself, Míril steps farther into the room. With a--possibly vain--hope that the former dwarf may be more susceptible to her pointy weapons, she takes aim at the ex-priest.
"Well, let's see if yonder ex-priest is as proof against the pointy as his minions," she says as she looses her arrow. Her shot sadly misses, not giving her a chance to test the theory.
Chancre lays a hand on Kon casting a spell.
"My resources are extremely limited right now given my inability to study spell patterns and prepare any spells, but I do still have a few spells pre-patterned primarily defense and summoning if you think the situation warrants it." The elf adds from the antechamber.
priest
skel
Roshan
AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 12. . (+5 Dex, +2 Monk(wisdom))
hp 10 (1d8+2)
Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +4
Noting Drea caught at a disadvantage, Roshan slides across the alter like a stuntman in a Duke's of Hazzard film, quickly alights and takes his place immediately next to her. He draws upon the power within the scale to assist.
Action: Bite something. Since arrows appear to affect the ex-priest, preferentially the skeleton if both are still up. In the likely event that she's going to fall unconscious immediately after striking, she will not fight defensively.
Possible Text: With a savage bite, Drea latches onto the skeleton's bony neck and tears out its cervical vertebrae. Then she topples over unconscious.
hp: 0, then -1
AC: Unconscious
Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +4
Note: Trying out the if/then thing ... If she somehow gets healed before her action:
1) She would fight defensively, reducing her to-hit roll to 17 but increasing her AC to 16,
2) She would attempt to move away after the bite, tumbling to avoid AoO's.
Possible Alternate Text: With a savage bite, Drea latches onto the skeleton's bony neck and tears out its cervical vertebrae. Then, as it disintegrates, she maneuvers herself away from its undead master.
"My resources are extremely limited right now given my inability to study spell patterns and prepare any spells, but I do still have a few spells pre-patterned primarily defense and summoning if you think the situation warrants it." The elf adds from the antechamber.
"... Perhaps if the ... front line starts dropping ... someone in the antechamber could let Aravashnial know?" Drea suggests, sounding a bit dizzy.
Fort save DC 15
"You're better than that, Míril," mutters Míril, grumbling at her missed shot. She squares up her stance and fires again at the thing that once was a dwarf.
This time Anevia's shot is even less effective than Miril's.
Noting Drea caught at a disadvantage, Roshan slides across the alter like a stuntman in a Duke's of Hazzard film, quickly alights and takes his place immediately next to her. He draws upon the power within the scale to assist.
With a savage bite, Drea latches onto the skeleton's bony neck and tears out its cervical vertebrae. Then, as it disintegrates, she maneuvers herself away from its undead master. ( and ; Drea takes 4 hit points.) She manages to get away but not without the undead leaving a nasty gouge on her arm which is already inflamed and red.
The undead priest looks between the two combatants who are still near to him, one who has dropped a skeleton with a punch, and the other holding a bow. He goes for the one who isn't carrying a melee efficient weapon. He manages to tag Miril with a claw. ( Leaving behind a mess of black and dirt in the wound.
Konstantin hurls a ball of ice and snow at the dwarf. Which just manages to tag the undead menacing Miril.
And the cold spell just manages to tip the scales, removing the last undead presence from the old temple.
"Даже мертвые могут заморозить," Konstantin intones. "Old saying in my part of the world."
"Great saying," Gwerm comments from the exterior door, "But now that Ms. Limps-A-Long has gotten everyone jumped by undead horries, can we please just get out of here?"
Anevia shots the merchant-noble a dirty look from her lean-perch on the bench, "You know I'm not the only one injured?" She looks at the solid stone building, "And if we need to rest, this is at least a..." she glances back at the nave, "now safe place for that."
The elf, "So... no summoning now?" As he lowers the hands he had raised to start his ritual.
Chancre walks over to Horace and puts his arm around the man. "Is it the enclosed space that bothers you, or the forced camaraderie? The restriction of movement, or the thought of dying without ever seeing the sun again?"
Chancre smiles one of his better smiles -- or at least one that shows he still has most of his teeth.
Konstantin had opened his mouth to speak, but seeing Chancre approach Gwerm, a small flicker of confusion passes over the harsh Irrisani features. Instead, he walks over to the elf and gently lowers his hands. "No summoning," he agrees.
Roshan moves to Miril and motions with his body, exposing the area where the heucuva's dirty nails sank in. He retrieves his waterskin and, unless she stops him, cleans out the wound as best he can. . Then he removes another of the unused scales and finds out if it will work as well or if they become "bonded".
"Thank you," Drea says to Roshan, whether it be for the success or just for the attempt.
Then he removes another of the unused scales and finds out if it will work as well or if they become "bonded".
The scale lies in Roshan's hand, chilly but null.
Then he removes another of the unused scales and finds out if it will work as well or if they become "bonded".The scale lies in Roshan's hand, chilly but null.
Konstantin shivers. "I believe I can, at least temporarily, attune those to me," he says to Roshan.
Chancre walks over to Horace and puts his arm around the man. "Is it the enclosed space that bothers you, or the forced camaraderie? The restriction of movement, or the thought of dying without ever seeing the sun again?"
Chancre smiles one of his better smiles -- or at least one that shows he still has most of his teeth.
"Mostly the thought of dying period." Gwerm states as he tries to pull away from Chancre. "That and my life depending on a thief."
Anevia snaps back, "I'd prefer the company of my friends anytime over that of a man who is so scared of his own religion that he can't see this as a place of safety." Even half-way through she looks guilty that she didn't keep herself in check.
"Frankly, all of our lives seem fairly dependent on our working together right now," Drea says mildly, "However much or little we are fond of the company."
"Mostly the thought of dying period." Gwerm states as he tries to pull away from Chancre. "That and my life depending on a thief."
Chancre slaps him congenially on the back as he pulls away. "If it makes you feel better, pretend you aren't. But don't take it out on Miss Anevia over there. She's injured right now, and nobody likes a bully."
"Frankly, all of our lives seem fairly dependent on our working together right now," Drea says mildly, "However much or little we are fond of the company."
Anevia nods, just the hint of color tinging her cheeks. "It was a low blow."
"This situation does have similarities to the classic Academia puzzle of a imp and a pseudodragon locked in an dimensional puzzle." Aravashnial comments, "Only we don't have a dualistic study and thus far no one is pure abyssal evil."
Chancre slaps him congenially on the back as he pulls away. "If it makes you feel better, pretend you aren't. But don't take it out on Miss Anevia over there. She's injured right now, and nobody likes a bully."
"I take that to mean we are holing up in this wretched undead infested building rather than continuing on?" Gwerm says, his tone not as confrontational as his words.
"This situation does have similarities to the classic Academia puzzle of a imp and a pseudodragon locked in an dimensional puzzle." Aravashnial comments, "Only we don't have a dualistic study and thus far no one is pure abyssal evil."
"... which reminds me," Drea mutters as she puts her hood up and forces her wings under her cloak. "If we ever meet anything down here that isn't just going to try to kill us anyway, I'd rather not be the cause of it ... trying to kill us anyway."
"I take that to mean we are holing up in this wretched undead infested building rather than continuing on?" Gwerm says, his tone not as confrontational as his words.
"Personally, I'd only vote for holing up if healing those that the undead wounded proves impossible at the moment," Drea comments. "Otherwise, I'd rather press on, although I wouldn't mind a short break if anyone wants one." She shrugs. "We might want to drink some water and refill our skins here, at least. Goodness knows when we'll find another source of clean water down here."
Konstantin shivers. "I believe I can, at least temporarily, attune those to me," he says to Roshan.
Roshan's head cocks to one side with a slightly puzzled expression, but he dutifully approaches Konstantin and hands over the excess cloth wrapped scales, presenting them open palmed with a small duck of the head.
..She shrugs. "We might want to drink some water and refill our skins here, at least. Goodness knows when we'll find another source of clean water down here."
He then takes Drea's advice, visiting the pool, tastes it, downs the last of his own water and then refills his water skin.
"I take that to mean we are holing up in this wretched undead infested building rather than continuing on?" Gwerm says, his tone not as confrontational as his words.
Chancre mimics shooting an arrow at Gwerm. "Bullseye," he says. "At least for a short while."
Roshan's head cocks to one side with a slightly puzzled expression, but he dutifully approaches Konstantin and hands over the excess cloth wrapped scales, presenting them open palmed with a small duck of the head.
Konstantin takes the scales in his left hand. Claws flash silver from his right as he closes it into a fist. There is not even a ripple of expression as he opens his hand, displaying the not-inconsiderable wound he has dug in the palm. As the blood wells up in his hand, he wipes each scale through it in turn.
When he is finished, he clutches one in the ruined palm and uses the power to close the wound.
The group rests at the small temple, even Horgus coming in after a bit when he realizes he does not want to be alone on the off chance that something should come from the darkness. The water proves to refill slowly and is the cleanest thing you've tasted since falling down into the underbelly of Kenabres.
Aravashnial walks around the small temple, really tripping over the debris at the sides, feeling the walls to 'see' the symbols and markings left behind. He occasionally goes 'hmmm-huh'.
Anevia sits on the small bench in the antechamber, her good leg pulled up to her chest.
Gwerm moves into the nave keeping a distance from Anevia and staying closer to Drea or Chancre.
Once the group feels good about it they move on, more cramped tunnels which show evidence of recent rock falls. More places where you are forced to go one at a time to make it through. More disgusting bugs which don't skitter away quite quick enough to be fully natural. One last tight passage and the tunnel opens up into another cavern.
First is a second light deeper in the space, muted by turns but it give the cavern a slight glimmer of habitation. Moving into the cavern, you see stone figures carved into the walls. Each depicts a different crusader clad in armor and wielding weapons, but their carved stone features contain expressions of sadness.
Magical besties that cling to the roof of caves and drop onto the unsuspecting and strangle their prey to death.
Konstantin takes the scales in his left hand. Claws flash silver from his right as he closes it into a fist. There is not even a ripple of expression as he opens his hand, displaying the not-inconsiderable wound he has dug in the palm. As the blood wells up in his hand, he wipes each scale through it in turn.
When he is finished, he clutches one in the ruined palm and uses the power to close the wound.
Again, an expression of some curiosity.
Drea holds up a hand to stop the forward motion of the group. "There are two stalactites up ahead that look ... wrong. As in, I'm pretty sure I see a tentacle."
When he is finished, he clutches one in the ruined palm and uses the power to close the wound.
Drea blinks. "Let's hope you're not called upon to do that very often."
"You know," Drea remarks to Míril as they resume their places at the head of the involuntary expedition, "In retrospect, the next time I have an idea in my head as to how a fight might go, it would probably be a good idea for me to, oh, let other people know about it somehow before charging madly forward."
Drea blinks. "Let's hope you're not called upon to do that very often."
"I have a great deal of blood," Konstantin says, unconcerned.
Drea holds up a hand to stop the forward motion of the group. "There are two stalactites up ahead that look ... wrong. As in, I'm pretty sure I see a tentacle."
If there is no way around, Konstantin will put Anevia in some place where she can use her bow, get set up to use his ray, and wait for the rest of the group to do the same.
Chancre pauses to pull out his bow.
"I have a great deal of blood," Konstantin says, unconcerned.
"Well. That's good," Drea says.
"If you'd be willing to use those to heal me, I'd be grateful. Although if you've got a better use in mind, I can try to lay claim to one of the potions we found."
If there is no way around, Konstantin will put Anevia in some place where she can use her bow, get set up to use his ray, and wait for the rest of the group to do the same.
Likewise if there is no way around -- after a moment of somewhat troubled thought, Drea will take a guarded stance in the front of the group, in case the "stalactites" sweep towards them.
"You know," Drea remarks to Míril as they resume their places at the head of the involuntary expedition, "In retrospect, the next time I have an idea in my head as to how a fight might go, it would probably be a good idea for me to, oh, let other people know about it somehow before charging madly forward."
Míril smiles. "That would be a good idea. We may be a hastily-thrown-together-by-the-Fates-group, but there's no reason we can't act like a team rather than a mob."
Míril pauses a moment before continuing. "Most of my fight training has been to use a partner to flank an opponent. I do well when my target is distracted. So if you let me know before you rush off, maybe we can double-team the next beastie we have to fight?"
Drea nods. "Sounds like a plan. I think I can be distracting. Either with immobilizing holds when I flank with you -- those are actually what most of my fight training has been -- or just, you know, hitting someone from the other side."
A slight pause. "Er, do you mind if I ask you an entirely unrelated personal question?"
Likewise if there is no way around -- after a moment of somewhat troubled thought, Drea will take a guarded stance in the front of the group, in case the "stalactites" sweep towards them.
Míril nocks an arrow and stands ready to fire upon any interlopers. "Tentacles, you say?" she says to Drea without taking her eyes off the stalactites.
Míril pauses, seeming unsure of how to respond. But she seems to decide on something, and says, "Sure. Feel free."
"If you'd be willing to use those to heal me, I'd be grateful. Although if you've got a better use in mind, I can try to lay claim to one of the potions we found."
Konstantin offers a stern nod in response and uses a scale.
"It isn't anything, that's, um ..."
She starts again. "I was just wondering if Roshan was your boyfriend, or simply a friend," she says, with a quick glance back at the monk not far behind them.