"Darn hootin ragamufin cultists... one of these days..." Grafires voice dribbles off into incomprehencable mumble jumbo.
Minor to pull his crossbow.
Grafire takes aim at the cultists who seems to be running around like one of them thar barn yard animals with its head cut off.
"Quit move you silly beast and let me put you to rest."
1d20+7=11
"Rassin-Frassin Hooligans,..." MAnny grumbles in agreement with the large draconian warrior.
"Cultists. Just when you think the box is empty, there is always one lurking in the corner," Akahale's pedantic tones emerge from the undergrowth.
"Cultists. Just when you think the box is empty, there is always one lurking in the corner," Akahale's pedantic tones emerge from the undergrowth.
"Where? Really where?!" Rowan calls out a little alarmed.
The cultist makes a very slow run for it...
The cultist makes a very slow run for it...
"Come,... BAck,... Here,... You,... !@##$%,... Wheeze,... Pant" Manny cries thinly after the fleeing felon.
"Just let him run. To weak for us to be wasting our time on anyway."
Seram stands letting the water clean off his heavy blade. "And who knows we may get lucky. He may be going to call his friends, and they'll come after us. Should be a strong one in their group somewhere."
"Just let him run. To weak for us to be wasting our time on anyway."
Seram stands letting the water clean off his heavy blade. "And who knows we may get lucky. He may go call his friends, and they'll come after us. Should be a strong one in there group somewhere."
"We could risk following him but where's the fun in that?" Rowan mutters as he brandishes his sword.
It continues It's inexorable advance on the cultist, swinging It's craghammer down on the unfortunate's head.
Akahale continues to plunge through the trees towards the cultist.
"You are extremely tedious as well as misguided and ill-mannered. Cease. To. Be."
Dark energy roils towards the cultist and Akahale continues to vent his irritation with a blast of arctic breath. The ground, if nothing else, freezes over.
IT smashes into the cultist and fells the corrupt townsman.
Akahale's eyes stop their perturbing whirling as he emerges squishily from the trees.
"Father Rowan, do you think this rain is of supernatural origin?" he asks, as he wrings out a portion of his cloak.
Akahale's eyes stop their perturbing whirling as he emerges squishily from the trees.
"Father Rowan, do you think this rain is of supernatural origin?" he asks, as he wrings out a portion of his cloak.
"Oh yes, not that its helping their side mind you" Rowan sighs.
"Regrettably it is not helping our side either. I have a profound wish to stop this rain. My rod is malfunctioning in an unpredictable manner due the persistent damp."
Manny eventually squishes his way up to IT, Grafire and Akahale. He is muttering something about 'moldy insoles and soggy metaphalanges'. He also looks like a cross between a soggy poodle and an antiquated scarecrow.
"Hmph. Supernatural rain? Unlikely. These clowns couldn't cast their way into a Saturday shower, much less this d a m n downpour!" The cranky mage mutters. His lips purse, and his eyes roll wildly in his head.
"Excuse me,..." He mutters as he hobbles over to the nearest deceased cultist-caster and begins rifling through his pockets,...
Manny eventually squishes his way up to IT, Grafire and Akahale. He is muttering something about 'moldy insoles and soggy metaphalanges'. He also looks like a cross between a soggy poodle and an antiquated scarecrow.
"Hmph. Supernatural rain? Unlikely. These clowns couldn't cast their way into a Saturday shower, much less this d a m n downpour!" The cranky mage mutters. His lips purse, and his eyes roll wildly in his head.
"Excuse me,..." He mutters as he hobbles over to the nearest deceased cultist-caster and begins rifling through his pockets,...
Rowan looks first at Manny and then the others.
"It might be a good idea to check the others in case they have anything on them you never know one of these poor souls might have written down instructions on where to go next... unlikely I know but worth making sure and we really need to pile their bodies somewhere where we can make sure they don't use them as zombies or whatever,"Rowan nods towards Manny.
"Worried about the undead again Rowan" Gran gives a qicked smile "Let me take of their heads, hells even chop
em into little pieces, that should stop'em from coming back as boogey men"
"Worried about the undead again Rowan" Gran gives a qicked smile "Let me take of their heads, hells even chop
em into little pieces, that should stop'em from coming back as boogey men"
"I'm glad you never faced that particular problem, but these guys are all seriously evil and you can never be sure just how evil their leaders' let alone their patron truly is,"Rowan sighs.
"So given all of that water I'd have to say Seram's suggestion makes more sense," Rowan admits.
"Incineration is not really an option," agrees Akahale.
IT stands motionless over the last cultist, awaiting direction.
Grafire sighs a big relief at now being able to move freely.
"So shall we continue to where we were originally going? I believe it was down to the water to rid the last bastions of evil from their domicile. I believe that was it or maybe I still am dreaming from the blasted immobilize spell."
"It is my understanding that the relevant caves will not be exposed until low tide this evening, egg-brother. I do not believe that the foes will be easily vanquished there and we should prepare wisely for the coming battle."
IT stands motionless over the last cultist, awaiting direction.
"Well, don;t just stand there! Help bring the bodies to Ser Seram so he can proceed with the Afore-mentioned De-Animation-Prevention-Ritual,... thingee,..."
"Also, be sure to go through their pockets and look for loose change." HE stage whispers to IT as an aside.
IT stands motionless over the last cultist, awaiting direction."Well, don;t just stand there! Help bring the bodies to Ser Seram so he can proceed with the Afore-mentioned De-Animation-Prevention-Ritual,... thingee,..."
"Also, be sure to go through their pockets and look for loose change." HE stage whispers to IT as an aside.
"Okay it looks like Manny's looking for some new threads possibly so we can sneak into the bad guys underground citadel in some kind of disguise, well that and any loose change they're carrying..." Rowan notes to Seram as heads for the nearest bad guy.
"Okay it looks like Manny's looking for some new threads possibly so we can sneak into the bad guys underground citadel in some kind of disguise, well that and any loose change they're carrying..." Rowan notes to Seram as heads for the nearest bad guy.
"Yeah, a disguise. That's it!" Manny declares, eyes rolling wildly, obviously not having a clue as to what the good father Rowan is talking about.
"Glad I thought of it!" He tells IT.
Seram goes about his grisly task. Taking a moment to dismember each every cultist.
IT obediently complies with Manny's first order, bringing the bodies to Seram.
Akahale looks rather sick (as far as a dragonborn can) and moves away.
"I am still desirous of seeing that this town has to offer apart from deluded cultists. I am also curious as to the whereabouts of the other inhabitants."
Akahale looks rather sick (as far as a dragonborn can) and moves away.
"I am still desirous of seeing that this town has to offer apart from deluded cultists. I am also curious as to the whereabouts of the other inhabitants."
"Mind that one he's got some kind of torc around his neck... okay never mind must have been some kind of leather neck thing..."Rowan points and then steps back.
Looks across at Akahale.
"I think we ought to see if any of the houses near here are open at least check them maybe get Akahale out of the rain for a bit, are you feeling alright Akahale?" Rowan asks.
"Thank you Rowan. I am quite well. I merely find Mr Zal's antics nauseating, while appreciating their necessity."
"Alrighty then on to tonights planning. I will need some rest before going out, I really must heal a bit. Then on to the finishing of this horrid task that none the less must be completed entirerly or our efforts will be for not."
spent 1 heal surge through inspired word gain a + 2d6 hp. 2d6=6 Brings my hp upto 39.
Spend last Inspired word for this 5min time. 1 surge + 2d6=8= 64/65 hp.
:)
Manny looks around, squinting as if staring into a bright light, despite the dreary and pouring sky.
"I feel a draft!" He pronounces irritably, as if it's someone's fault and they'd better close the window! He begins patting around on his person until he finds a hole in his robe, caused earlier by one of the cultist's mystical attacks. His arm snakes out of it, then back in.
"Well, THAT'S annoying!" He harumphs as his arm finds it's way back into his sleeve. He looks closer at his hand as it emerges. It is covered in blood.
"Oooo,... That's not good. Wait, isn't that stuff supposed to be on the INside? Ummm,... I don't feel so good,..." HE moans as he sits down on a relatively dry patch of soggy grass under the nearest tree.
Now feeling slightly less nauseous, the warlock reconsiders the issue of Manny's attire.
"It is my opinion that a robe is an unsuitable garment for descending a cliff face and exploring cultist-infested caverns. We should attempt to find you some trousers, Mage Mandrake."
Now feeling slightly less nauseous, the warlock reconsiders the issue of Manny's attire.
"It is my opinion that a robe is an unsuitable garment for descending a cliff face and exploring cultist-infested caverns. We should attempt to find you some trousers, Mage Mandrake."
"Well those are either too wet or too bloody, perhaps we should enquire at one of those vacant houses for new apparrel for Manny?" Rowan notes as Seram continues to insure the cultists remain merely dead.
"Lets take a few minutes here to help our good friend recover his wits about him and maybe at least patch up his garment. We must look appropriate for our party tonight. We wouldn't want to disappoint now would we?"
The rain continues to tip down on the comrades, as Grafire catches his breath and Seram Zal takes to his red work with relish.
:)
MAnny's breathing becomes deeper and less wheezy as he rests for a moment.
"What are you all looking at?" HE asks crankily as he notices the others concerned stares. "NEver seen an elderly gentleman catch his breath before? Sheesh. Wait a minute,..." He stares myopically at his red-covered hand, sniffs, then takes a lick.
"Ah-HAH! So THAT'S where the strawberry jelly went! Aw man, the pouch broke! Now where did I put those biscuits?,..." He mutters, patting his soggy clothing.
The rain continues to pound down...
[ooc], Welcome back Fabes! OK, I forgot, where were we heading when we were jumped by the hooligans?[ooc]