24: Soltengrabbe (-14hp,-18,-12,-24,-19,-21)
17: Elyanius Myoch (-22hp)
15: Jurin (-44hp)
09: Serra Iondri Phaer (-22hp)
06: Cole Zeff (-22hp)
-02:Soltengrabbe
Round 2, in progress
Soltengrabbed Ser Serra, and sent him into the dust.Eli takes note of the Evil in their midst and sets a radiant burst of light in front of his heads. Jurin charged in to protect the man, swinging three times, though only once, did he hit. Cole too tries to draw the creature away from Serra or to finish him where he stands. The arrows hit once, twice, thrice, each sinking feathers deep into the vile creature. He shakes his heads, blinking rapidly, but still he stands.
Round 2, init -2
He lets out a violent roar and turns to face the archer, all but ignoring the little swordman at his flank. He flies Cole, heedless of the possible danger he is leaving behind him.
Jurin's feeble attempt misses the monster, drawing a hiss from the snake as they pass.
24: Soltengrabbe (-14hp,-18,-12,-24,-19,-21)
17: Elyanius Myoch (-22hp)
15: Jurin (-44hp)
09: Serra Iondri Phaer (-62hp)
06: Cole Zeff (-69hp)
-02:Soltengrabbe
Round 3, Init 24
Weapon Equipped = Composite (+2) Long Bow, darkwood, +1, adaptive
Cold Iron Arrows = 50/54
Silver Blunt Arrows = 20/20
Cold Iron, Adamantine Blanch Arrows = 20/20
Cold Iron, Ghost Salt Arrows = 10/10
+1, Outsider Bane, Cold Iron Blanch Arrows = 5/5
+1, Holy, Cold Iron Blanch Arrows = 1/5
Conditions = Hasted (3/7r), Prayer (3/7r), Focused (Chimera)
Mythic Power = 0/4 (immed., d6)(swift, decisive strike)
Ranger Focus = 0/2 (ex, swift, +4 attack/damage)
Child of the Crusade = 1/1 (free, reroll failed save to be demonically possessed or incapacitated)
Silver Dragon Scale = 0/3 (standard, bolstering)
Bow Attack Mods: BAB +6, Dex +4, Bow +1, Weapon Focus +1, Rapid Shot -0, Deadly Aim -2
Bow Damage Mods: Composite Bow +3, Bow +1, Deadly Aim +4
Spells (caster level 2, concentration +4)
Level 0 (DC 12) Create Water (1/1)
Level 1 (DC 13)
Cole drops to the turf as quickly as Serra.
Thanks to his mythic stature, he survives, and stabilizes, but does not immediately get up...
The urge to follow becomes great, then greater still, and when at last it seems as if you might break free of your mortal form, you find a hand in yours, holding you within yourself.
"It's lovely, isn't, Sir? I' often think it would be good to follow them." the young boy, for surely he can be no more than 9 or 10, sits next to you in mismatched armor, polishing your bow.
"I never do, of course. Mendev still needs me." His gaze falls across the blackness, and suddenly, it is one of the many unnamed hillocks outside of Kenabres, and there in the dirt lies another man, one of heft and girth.
"Far be it from me to tell you what to do, Sir... but Mendev needs you too." He gives the bow one last looksee, then hands it back to you. Dusting off his knees, he gets to his feet and heads towards the stout body lying in the dirt and sits down, beginning to polish his armor.
In typical gruff fashion, he faces this new ‘threat’ to his sanity the same way he faces other uncomfortable things in his life - head on.
”So you’re Kastor? Why, er how... can I see you now? I have so many questions… But Serra and I need to get back.”
He stands shakily, or tries to, and readies his bow, hoping the child-ghost hasn’t damaged it in some fundamentally undead way. It seems lighter in his hands… warmer.
”Which way back?”
Round 3
HP = 20/64
AC/T/FF = 16/11/15
Weapon Equipped = мировник
Speed = 30'
Arcane Pool = 6/8
Magus Spell-Like Abilities (CL 7th; concentration +11)
. . At will—feather fall (self only), fly (self only)
. . 1/day—levitate (self only)
Magus (Hexcrafter) Spells Prepared (CL 7th; concentration +11)
. . 2nd—blur, mirror image, acid elemental intensified shocking grasp[M]
. . 1st—color spray (DC 15), frostbite[UM], acid elemental shocking grasp[M] (2), intensified shocking grasp[M]
. . 0 (at will)—acid splash, brand[APG] (DC 14), detect magic, light, prestidigitation
. . M mythic spell
Status Effects = Invisible
Jurin moves and attacks again.
Round 3, Init 17
AC = 17
HP = 35/57
Weapon Equipped = +1 Cold Iron Lucerne Hammer
Condition(s) = Hasted?
Eli throws a slightly more powerful level of his magical beam of painful light.
Sensing the desperation of the moment, Eli slips into flank with Jurin, hoping to provide the swordsman enough tactical advantage to strike the creature painfully. He awaits the next wave of attacks with Jurin.
Round 3, continues
Eli pulls out a more powerful spell and knocks the creature down. He moves into flank with with Jurin who stabs viciously at the downed beast, making sure it stays well and truly dead.
With the creatures thundering wings stilled and his roar stifled, the place falls quiet... too quiet, for two of their own lay as silent as the Chimera.
Jurin quickly performs a triple beheading.
"Sometimes they come back. See to Cole, I'll get Serra up."
With that he moves over and prods Serra with his foot.
"Time to wake up fat man."
Serra continues to lie limp on the ground. Like so many of Jurin's cakes, Serra just fails to rise.
You try to focus to hold tight to what is going on around you, but it slips away in bits and pieces until finally, your mother's voice seems to meld with your father's and finally, finally, you can understand what their saying...
"it would be nice to stay, Sir, wouldn't it? I think so too" not their voice, then, but another. He sits at your feet, polishing a bit of armor. " but Mendev still needs us, Sir. " He looks up his eyes full of admiration and certainty. " ...and knights go where we're needed, don't we,Sir?"
Eli nods to Jurin. Moving over Cole, he places a large palm on the archer's forehead, whispering for bone to bend to his will, and flesh to knit full.
He settles down near the big man, but nods at the other.
"That's a nice bow, Sir. It fits you, if you don't mind my saying so." He nods again, then sets to seeing to Serra's armor, as if everything that needs saying has been said.
"Father." Serra's voice is tight with sadness. With regret. With failure. "Father, I'm sorry. I have failed you. I should have been more. I should be more. I'm sorry father."
Serra strains again...to see mother...and comes face to face with Kastor.
"Boy, what are you doing here? Let me say my goodbyes to my father. And my mother. I need to tell them I am sorry..."
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Jurin crouches next to the unconscious Serra and whispers in his ear.
"Poor fat Serra. Never could make much of yourself, could you? Your father was a better barkeep and your mother a better healer. What are you?"
His sword gently taps on Serra's belly.
"Just a fat barkeep in stolen armor. Poor Serra. Poor fat Serra. Crying yourself to sleep in your oversized bed, crumbs of some oversized cake dribbling off your fat chin."
*tap* *tap* *tap*
"Wonder where you'd go, if you died now. Would you get to see your parents again? You know they're dead, right? Otho told me everything. Would you like to know what happened to them?"
*tap* *tap* *tap*
"Don't worry, poor little Serra. No need to cry yourself to sleep any more. Jurin is here. I'll protect you, just like I did that one time. Oh, you probably don't remember."
The tapping stops.
"Looks like this ones for you Eli, I thought he might be faking it but he's really just dying. Let's wake him up, I'm sure he's in the mood for cake. Maybe if I make it while he's asleep his fat thundering footsteps won't collapse it."
Jurin's grin as he says this is only half madness.
...and he looks up into Elyanias' eyes.
He staggers to his feet , gathers up his bow and looks at the beheaded beast. "Good job Jurin. Thanks Eli - might I have another if you can spare it? I can barely stand."
He looks carefully at his bow, seeing the flecks from before seem more... more somehow. It makes him a little nervous really. I feel it is more than me in some ways...
He sets aside his thoughts and tries to concentrate on the task at hand. If Eli helps him, he straightens up and first checks on Serra. Then he attends the wounded they were escorting to make sure they survived the battlefield more or less intact.
Then he gets everyone moving again. "Let us get to the relative safety of camp before we encounter another of those. I want the archers ready for what might come at us tonight."
"There may be more of these..." he spits.
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Eli looks at Cole for a moment, and continues the healing.
When Jurin calls out on Serra, Eli proceeds over to the knight, placing two fingers on an upturned palm, while kneeling over the fallen form.
He looks at Jurin and his talk of cake, and can't help a light feeling of bemusement. "If their army has even one or two more of these creatures, let me just praise you now for your unwavering spirit. I'm spent. We should return to camp."
As Eli grasps his hammer to pull himself up, his body goes rigid. His grip tightens desperately, but it's not enough to steady himself, and his free hand reaches out blindly. It finds purchase on the fallen chimera to his side.
In an instant, a low thrum pulses below the old man, and Eli returns to his knees, his hands still outstretched, still touching beast and bludgeon. His eyes begin to glow red, and blood runs from his nose, staining his moustache. Alien words begin to fall from his lips, words that pass through drips of blood, and stain the ground in front of him. The blood becomes an arc, an implied circle that encompasses man and hammer. The hammer itself now glows as red as the old man's eyes, and his hand begins to blacken of char. The words still flow, and Eli seems oblivious to the change. A second thrum brings Eli directly to his feet. His eyes and the hammer change from red to golden. His eyes return to white. His hand returns to old flesh. The hammer returns to its normal appearance, with the exception of a thin scrawl of celestial words burnt into its metal head, and a spiral down the length of the weapon.
Eli looks to Jurin with a look of bemusement. "I'm spent. We should return to camp."
Eli looks at Cole for a moment, and continues the healing.
"Thank you Eli."
As Eli grasps his hammer to pull himself up, his body goes rigid. His grip tightens desperately, but it's not enough to steady himself, and his free hand reaches out blindly. It finds purchase on the fallen chimera to his side.
In an instant, a low thrum pulses below the old man, and Eli returns to his knees, his hands still outstretched, still touching beast and bludgeon. His eyes begin to glow red, and blood runs from his nose, staining his moustache. Alien words begin to fall from his lips, words that pass through drips of blood, and stain the ground in front of him. The blood becomes an arc, an implied circle that encompasses man and hammer. The hammer itself now glows as red as the old man's eyes, and his hand begins to blacken of char. The words still flow, and Eli seems oblivious to the change. A second thrum brings Eli directly to his feet. His eyes and the hammer change from red to golden. His eyes return to white. His hand returns to old flesh. The hammer returns to its normal appearance, with the exception of a thin scrawl of celestial words burnt into its metal head, and a spiral down the length of the weapon.
Eli looks to Jurin with a look of bemusement. "I'm spent. We should return to camp."
He looks at the man, now covered in blood of his own as well as others, "You OK Eli? Did Kastor tend to your hammer?" he asks with a thin humorless smile.
Eli looks at Cole with a questioning frown, then looks at his hammer. Attack eyebrows shoot upwards, as Eli looks over his hammer, as if for the first time. "What in the blazes...?" He spins it in his hand, taking a look over all of its surfaces. He falls quiet, as he reads the words.
"No, this is a very real change, it seems." He swings it, a growing pride settling into his forehead.
His mother joins his father, her arm wrapping round the man she loves. "You are our son, Serra. We love you. So long as you live we will love you and should you die, we will love you still."
His mother unwinds from her husband and moves, her scent of cinnamon and apples and baking bread surrounding him for a moment as she hugs him tightly. His father too hugs him, then steps back and offers a lastwall fistbump to his only son.
"We are proud of you, son. Trust this."
Having said their piece they step back, and Kastor becomes solidly present once more.
"We have to go back, Sir. Mendev still needs us. It's time to let them go and focus on Mendev now, Sir." He holds out his hand, though. The choice is yours. It seems important, though, to make the choice, whether to stay or to return, and he does not rush you, for it must be your decision and yours alone.
Jurin cocks his head to the side.
"Wonder if you bleed on my sword if it'll do the same?"
Jurin swings his sword a few times, looking for a glow or other magical writing. Mostly he just covers everybody in demon blood.
"Ah well. Let's go make cake."
Serra reaches his hand out...trying to touch...
Serra coughs, sputtering to life. He starts looking around for his mother and father, slowly remembering where he is.
"Mother? Father?" Serra sputters weakly until he realizes that it's just Ely and Jurin, who looks nothing like either. They were both such beautiful people.
Serra rolls onto his elbow, surveying the battlefield and his own pool of blood. He flops back on his back.
"It's dead, huh?" Serra asks weakly, his mind still roiling from sights of mind. Serra breathes deep, looking and clouds and counting blessings. His right hand travels to his shoulder, where the chimera struck, then to his ribcage and legs. He pokes and prods, wondering how close he came to death.
"Kastor?" Serra says after a moment, his head still on the ground. "Is the boy around? Is he hurt?"
Cole looks about to say something, but he stops.
He walks on in silence a little while.
He picks up a small rock and sort of rubs it before tossing it into a rubble pile.
He seems to make a decision, "Serra, I think Kastor's dead. Has been for a long time."
Cole squints at something in the distance and looks back at Serra.
"When the Chimera-Demon laid me low, I saw Kastor. For the first time I might add. At least I assume it was him." Cole goes on to describe Kastor. A young boy, no more than 9 or 10, in mismatched armor.
"I was clearly at deaths door - the space between the worlds. He spoke to me, strengthened my bow, and sent me back."
He stops and looks levelly at Serra.
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Serra reacts with alarm, his head jerking up and looking for Kastor's body.
"He died? To that thing!? NO!" Serra says, wearily finding his feet and looking around as if to see Kastor...which he does. Serra spots his brave squire nearby, kneeling, and waiting for Serra to rise.
"That's not funny, Cole. You had me going," Serra says, barely laughing from under his worry.
Serra turns his attention to Kastor.
"Why didn't you say anything, boy? You gave me a fright," Serra laughs a bit more. "You've been spending too much time with Jurin, boy. You've gotten some imp into you. Well, polishing my armor twice tonight will remind you that our duty doesn't leave us much time for jests."
Serra picks up his ranseur and takes a few moments to check his wounds again. He slowly waddles over to the chimera. Raising his ranseur, he lops of the dragon's head...except that someone already had. Serra smiles.
"I think the troops might be inspired by this. We'll need reason to celebrate, and taking down this monstrosity is sure to lift spirits. Come now, Jurin. Grab a head."
Serra drags the dragon's head back to camp.
Cole looks upon Serra and wonders what broke him - what made him so needy for Kastor.
He finds himself trusting that Kastor is doing what can be done for Serra's sanity, and that thought makes him question his own yet again.
He shakes his head to clear it, manages a smile for Serra, and tries to think of other things.
"Wonder if you bleed on my sword if it'll do the same?"
Eli feels a flick of blood hit himself, so looks down to address its cleaning. He manages to detect the blood in his mustache as well, so ends up trying to clean himself of more blood than initially anticipated.
"Cake sounds pretty good, right now. If it's cake you really mean." Eli watches as heads roll back toward camp, and steps lively, expecting a spirited discussion about the change recently come over his hammer with Marcus.
He walks up alongside headless Cole as they return. "'Space between worlds', eh? If you speculate that you only saw it when you were on death's door, do you also speculate that Serra sees it, because he stands on death's door in perpetuity?" Eli nudges the archer, then walks on in silence.
He walks up alongside headless Cole as they return. "'Space between worlds', eh? If you speculate that you only saw it when you were on death's door, do you also speculate that Serra sees it, because he stands on death's door in perpetuity?" Eli nudges the archer, then walks on in silence.
Cole looks at Serra walking ahead a little ways and slows to make sure he's out of earshot. He speaks low, "I don't know. Perhaps Kastor is visible to him because his visibility serves some purpose. I cannot fathom it, but there it is. Just have to wait and see how it plays out."
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Jurin nods along with Eli and Cole.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it lads. Some people are just broken."
He whistles as he skips along, merrily kicking the severed heads of their so recently vanquished foe towards camp.
Returning to camp, Cole spends the day helping where he can, tirelessly working to equip the new soldiers and working with Jothinra to organize the men.
Those who are at all weak or injured, but still want to help, will be given ranged weapons so they can contribute without exposing themselves to further harm. Some of the toughest groups will be organized to hold the towers as they are taken, so their weapons can be turned inward on the Citadel when the time comes.
Meanwhile the sectors they've already taken must be guarded, and so their thin reserves are stretched...
Any remaining able bodied, but non-military people will be tasked with moving throughout the city looking for supplies that might have been overlooked - especially food or scrolls of raise dead…unless the city is still considered 'unsafe' in which case we'll just hunker down in camp for now.
That evening, he casts create water as usual, giving himself a quick head bath and a drink. It's as clean as he gets.
Eli produces the healing wand, expending all remaining charges on Cole for his healing.
Eli hits camp in stride, making his way back to Father Marcus and Saul, where he proceeds to show off his hammer and its transformation. Marcus takes the weapon in hand, thrilled to no end that something touched the hammer in such a unique way. When pressed, Eli is unable to remember exactly what took place while the metal was etched, but he can describe the lifting thrum that brought him to his feet. He clasps Saul on the back, thanking him for the part he played in bringing the hammer into existence.
Eventually, Eli proceeds to walk the camp, searching for a bottle of applejack. Of course, he sets his task as improving morale among the troops, hailing the story of the chimera that once threatened the camps. Should he be offered a drink, he puts up a weak decline that crumbles quickly, allowing whatever is offered to be consumed.
Still wounded, Serra limps back to camp, dragging his dragon's head. If there are wands of healing to be offered, he accepts them, but also this is a time of learning from pain. He doesn't embrace the pain, but he accepts the pain with knightly dignity. He takes pleasure in still being alive and that he emerges victorious over demonkind.
Serra collapses into his bed, barely able to finish 2nd dinner when it is offered.
Eli produces the healing wand, expending all remaining charges on Cole for his healing.
If there is but one wand and it has only 7 charges left, Cole will pass, offering it to Serra first. He will not take the last charges as others may have greater need.
Serra thanks Ely for the wand charges.
CLW
CLW
CLW
CLW
"Maybe we need another day to recharge and recoup, Cole. Them other knights might need a day or two to get strong again. Us too."
Alas, Eli has no wand charges for Serra, as he's expended them all on Cole during Cole's rush to heal himself with seven charges.
Cole takes out a handful of potions that he's been carrying around for a while and gives them to Serra for healing (four potions of CLW).
"We need a new one of those. I have a potion of Cure Serious left but no more healing. Anybody else have anything?"
Eli produces his potion of Cure Serious Wounds as well, and hands it over. "All I have. We're getting low, eh? Our assaults will continue to deplete our stores. I wonder how much more time we need to finish this mission."
Serra takes whatever healing is available, whether it wand uses (which Cole refused Ely) or potions.
Serra rests the night, pondering tomorrow's excursions.
Jurin looks to his wounds as the others pass about the healing gear.
"Don't you worry about old Jurin, I heal quick."
As promised, the scimitar wielding magus emerges from his tent much refreshed with most of his wounds knit together.
The night passes, though not uneventfully. Several sorties are launched against the camp; none are succesfull. In the morning, the companions meet with their advisors. Amber and Sosiel are able to come up with a wand for the companions to carry with them to battle, though they stayed up all night to do so. They are both now fatigued.
Attacks on the remaining watch towers are able to bring them under the companion's control, with Beagan adding them to his command of the bridge (Beagan, + 25 paladins hold the bridge and the towers.) An additional 30 men are stationed in Southbank and Paradise hill. The rest of the paladins continue the siege of Drezen.
All of these gather to make the final attack to enter the Citadel. It is a raging battle against the remaining armies of cultists, tieflings, and dretches. These prove no match for the Righteous of Mendev, and the armies are routed after pitched fighting that lasts an entire day. The survivors scatter, escaping into the ruins of Drezen and will likely keep Iomedae's Army busy hunting down survivors for several days.
Their commander, a stout dwarven fellow that looks uncannily like the dwarf seen in the visions of Iomedae's visitation, flees back into the Citadel proper, taking his high ranking officers with him. It is a stout dwarven affair that would be brutal to try to take even now without its armies, but Aron is able to provide a map.
Cole is pleased by their successes, but every death on their side hurts him a little. The cumulative battles of the last couple days wears on him as he considers how to assault the few remaining inside.
"We should go in without the troops. Let them contain the hostiles and recover from the last days while we root out the opposition room by room."
He considers the slog ahead of them. "We should take care and move carefully. Who knows what might lie within."
Serra waddles next to Cole, weariness in matched etch in both his face and gait.
"You got us this far, Cole. I trust you to get us further. We took the towers in one day...ONE DAY, Cole! That was well done what you did yesterday. I didn't think it was possible," Serra looks back at Jurin and Ely.
"We're lucky to have so few losses as it stands." Serra takes a moment to stretch his back while looking up at the fortress. "If you want to take this fortress today, let's do that. I'm your knight, Cole."
Aron unrolls his map upon a massive table to help plan out the next attacks:
"I did the best I could from what I remember, but I'm not sure how much of it we can trust. My sources had not been there since the Fall, and much may have changed since they left. Still, it is better than no map."
"Thank you, Aron. It's more than we could have asked for. We simply have to worry about what wanders its halls, now."
Eli tucks away the new Wand, and readies himself for the new challenge awaiting them.
"So, we have a small contingent, as well as what else may have been placed there to hinder our advance." Eli grabs at his hammer, tapping it impatiently.
"How do we approach?"
Cole frowns at the map, "Well, I only see one entrance - unless we have the means to fly through an arrow slit."
"I'd imagine there must be entrances on the roof as well. Perhaps if we could fly/climb up there and work our way down? We would be exposing ourselves by doing so - and I bet they have fliers."
"No, either way, I think we're in trouble. I'd rather head for the main doors - rush 'em, and get inside quickly. But I'm open to other suggestions."
He looks around at the others.
Serra leans over the map, organizing his thoughts.
"We could also likely get to the top and work our way in from there. Might be better than whatever they have for us via the front door," Serra mentions. "Plus, not sure if they will have archers or the like along this front entry." Serra drags his fingers to where archers might lay waiting them.
"We it my call, I'd start from the top. But, as I said before, Cole, I'm your knight with whatever must be done."
Serra rubs the beard on his chin.
"Given a bit of time, one of our arcanists might be able to produce some scroll work to protect us long this route where we are unprotected. Of course, that will take some time."
"The longer we wait the longer they have to dig in. We should go quickly while they're reeling."
Cole rubs the stubble of his chin and grumbles.
"OK, we'll try the roof, but we'll fall back to the front doors if we're over-harrrassed. Jurin, can you fly up and drop some grapples and rope? We'll climb while you cover us and search for a way in."
"Aron, do you know of any entrances on top? Something in one of this tower perhaps?" he points to the largest tower first, but any will do.