Round 3, Init 12
AC = 17
HP = 44/44
Weapon Equipped = +1 Cold Iron Lucerne Hammer
Condition(s) = None
Eli watches as the halfling stands against several opponents twice her size. Watches Beagan defend her against the slings and arrows of outrageous odds. Watches the halfling fall, presumed guilty, and executed without a word of inquisition.
"Sosiel at least was sane enough to think of grappling the girl. From Serra's overreaction, we no longer have her to question. What an utter mess you've made of it all."
The old man stands, and waits.
Round 4, Init 21
Each strike on the halfling's form brings another horrifying memory surging forth. With each arrow, the Gnome has a vision of a whip slicing deeply into innocent flesh, with each electric shock Beagan sees the hot iron searing a brand into her soft hide, and each blade reminding him of the knife etching its cruel patterns into her tender skin.
"ไม่มี! ไม่อีกครั้ง!"
As the halfling falls, a bit of hope arises in the Gnome, that the attacks would stop once she went unconscious, giving this one at least some relief, as sometimes happened before. When he sees Serra's cruel blade slide into the small one's flesh, the memory of the red hot poker penetrating Marret for the final time overwhelms him.
"Beagan, you will be forgiven once this day is over. Please know that."
His eyes burn with anger towards Eli...
"แต่พวกเขาจะไม่เป็น!"
... and turn with hatred to Serra.
"ฉันจะเห็นหัวของคุณแยกออกอย่างถาวรจากไหล่ของคุณเซอร์ร่า Iondri Phaer ถ้ามันเป็นสิ่งสุดท้ายที่ผมเคยทำ การแก้แค้นจะเป็นของฉันกล่าวว่าพระเจ้า!"
Calling upon Iomedae's kiss, he embues Xanthos with extra speed.
Beagans spurs Xanthos away from this evil, away from this torture, and away from Mendev. Unable to understand the strange, crackling language coming from his rider, Xanthos hesitates for just a moment....
...before running to the east and leaping over anything in his way.
Once Xanthos has expended himself , Beagan calls on Iomedae again to spur on his mount.
The old man watches as the gnome bolts, the strange words rattling in his ears. He finds no comprehension, only the face stricken with anger, which will remain with him for some time to come.
He instead moves towards the body, intent on examination. Perhaps I can treat it, for later divine intervention.
Perhaps caught up in a fugue from his past, Serra steps forward and separates the small halfling's upper and lower halves. Beagan, outraged and horrified by this repeat of his past, sputters in some foul language, then spurs Xanthos and runs off to the East. So fast, so mythically quick is he, that almost no one has even moved before he is out of sight.
The captain comes closer to investigate the commotion. His face takes an ashen pale as he witnesses the dismembered lifeless form of Nurah.
"Wha..."he says swallowing the rising bile; the reality of the situation crashing down upon him brings Joth back from the edge.
What manner of monsters are these?
Joth unclasps his riding cloak and drapes it over the young woman's lifeless corpse.
"What in the name Iomedae's Holy Breastplate is going on here?" Forgetting himself he looks from the leader of the heroes to the executioner and simply inquires, "Serra?"
Serra looks at Joth, then looks again to see any signs of reanimation from Nurah. Only when satisfied that the halfling's remains do not stitch together does he ease his poised second strike.
He turns to yell at Kastor to stay, but realizes that he is too late to catch the boy.
That boy moves quickly sometimes for a boy with such a bad leg.
He checks a second time for reanimatory remains on Nurah, then again lowers his ranseur.
"It was her. She was the traitor and the murderer," Serra states plainly. "We need to burn her body and scatter her ashes to the winds, no part of her should be allowed to be found."
Serra checks the body again for reanimation, like a cat keeping eye on a mousehole.
"I stay and guard it until we build a pyre," Serra says.
Cole watches with satisfaction as the halfling is cut down by his arrow. He then watches with unease as Serras blade finishes the skein of her life.
”Serra hold!” he yells too late.
As Beagan charges off, he worries what he might encounter out there beyond the edges of the camp. Surely there must be demons and cultists lurking there watching the outcome of the battle. There is nothing he can do, for now.
Joth unclasps his riding cloak and drapes it over the
young woman'slifeless corpse."What in the name Iomedae's Holy Breastplate is going on here?" Forgetting himself he looks from the leader of the heroes to the executioner and simply inquires, "Serra?"
”Yes Jothinra, it does appear that she was guilty, though I would have liked to question her further on the matter.” he looks to Serra. ”Serra, refrain from killing our captives in the future. We need to know what they know. She was down, she was neutralized, and she was surrounded. It was a perfect opportunity.”
He shrugs and makes do with what we have. He walks over and picks up the halfling’s body and carries her back into her tent. For lack of anywhere else, he puts her on her bed, covers her, and returns Jothinra’s cloak. He then thoroughly searches the tent, and the halfling, for clues ignoring the nagging doubts...
Jurin will follow Cole into the tent.
"I'll search too. Don't worry Cole, I know how to make this cake."
He will then begin thoroughly searching the halfling for signs of demon corruption. He starts by using his ability to see magical auras, then goes over the halfling from pockets to entrails.
Serra keeps his eyes on the fallen halfling, not caring that others think he overreacted. He watches the body without regret. He watches Jurin go through the pockets and auras.
Othoe. Is this halfling one of his?
"Jurin, while you're down there, tell me what auras you see. I think there is one that was shielding her true self," Serra remarks and lowers his voice.
"Do you think she might be an Othoean? One of his disciples? I know he's dead-dead...but there are some that might follow in his small, but very evil, steps."
he looks to Serra. ”Serra, refrain from killing our captives in the future.....”
"That's IT??? He chops a downed combatant in HALF and all you have to say is 'be careful NEXT time?!!'"
The brawny cleric scrubs one hand over his head. "Don't you see what they're doing? What they've done?!?!??! It is those one steps too far that will send us careening into the the Abyss, our souls forfeit." He kneels by the little body, coiling her braid away from the rapidly pooling blood. He begins a fervent prayer, but it is not enough.
"I cannot save her. Not today. I may be able to preserve her tomorrow, though that may prove futile at this point." A deep abiding sadness seems to well within his eyes.
He looks upon first Cole, then Serra, "We've tarnished our souls today. Those that we can save, we must save. I know in my heart that that little creature was salvageable. We must do more. And be better, lest we become what we fight."
Upon her person, or mixed in with her belongings, Jurin finds:
three scrolls:
1 vial of a similar nature to the ones in Aron's belongings,
+1 chain shirt, dagger, short sword, sling,
a bedroll, cold-weather outfit, flint and steel, backpack, rations (5 days), traveler’s outfit, waterskin, winter blanket, 1 diamond worth 1,000 gp, 9 sp, 5 cp
Jurin holds up the first scroll.
"Healing."
He holds up the second.
"Fleeing."
The third.
"Outhouse paper."
He pushes the horn and belt aside.
"No clue on these either."
He then holds up the wand.
"This is very interesting. This one makes you remember things that didn't happen. Or not remember things that did happen. This and the vial...doesn't look good for Beagle."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Joth follows Cole into Nurah's tent in a daze. Upon placing Nurah on her bed Joth begins, "I... This..."struggling to find the proper way to speak to his commander.
"Sir?" he inquires and then begins without awaiting acknowledgement, "This. Was. Wrong. Sosiel was right. Her struggle was over and she was down. We had an opportunity to not only find out why, but possibly redeem her honor."
"When this comes to light, how are we supposed to be the victors when we've become no better than The Enemy? Isn't redemption tenable? Shouldn't redemption be striven for because that is what separates us from the hordes? Is this the Righteous that is to be brought to bear on Drezen; trial by execution without a chance at redemption? I'm only asking because you are our... leader." His words come out as genuine questions. His world shattered, his betters leaders revealed; Joth's words aren't from a hardened wizened captain risen through the ranks over a lifetime, but of young man caught in a hard world and forced to adopt a public persona due to circumstances being thrust upon him.
Serra snorts, trying to decide if he is more annoyed by Jothinra's ignorance or by his hypocrisy. He decides it's the hypocrisy.
"Jothinra, how is it that we fought so many cultists this day and none survive? Why are we on a battlefield with many dead and no survivors? How is it that your knights didn't save one of them?" Serra points his ranseur to literally dozens of cultist dead lying all about.
"Jothinra, why did you and your knights not take prisoners? Why did they all die? Is it because you have a very selective memory? Or that your orders weren't redemption? Or that this is war and sometimes we kill?"
Serra turns to Aron and Sosiel, shaking his head.
"What about you two? You were here for the battle and you redeemed and saved none of the cultists? You did not throw yourselves upon them to protect them from the knights? Nor did you follow in their warpath to heal those who might been saved by your goddesses mercy. And you could have stopped me with a word...yet you didn't," Serra looks grave, lowering his voice.
"You have not seen what an evil halfling can do to a community. You do not know what I have seen. What Jurin has seen. We know."
Cole’s face grows red,
”Serra, you were wrong. She may have had valuable intelligence that we could have used. Knowledge about the enemy and their movements who knows what. Sure we might have gotten nothing out of her, but it was worth a shot. At least recognize that.”
”Sosiel, mind yourself. Do not presume to know what’s in my head, nor put words in my mouth. I did not say ‘be careful’ I said ‘do not do it’. I know what you would say, and while I disagree that our souls are as tarnished as you may think, we have failed.”
He listens as Jothinra says more or less the same thing, but with a different voice. ”Jothinra, neither of us can say whether her honor could be redeemed or no, but as I told Sosiel, you’re not completely wrong. We have failed today, but again, not nearly to the degree you think.”
”Gentlemen, take a breath. A cultist was cut down here, like all the others that we’ve cut down on this journey so far. In some ways this woman was worse than the others, and perhaps in some ways better - though I don’t see it, I’ll concede the point. Yes, Serra here was over-zealous in his actions. No it is not the end of our journey or our fundamental goodness.”
”You speak of Nurah’s redemption, and yet you seem ready to throw Serra into the ‘wound.” Cole shakes his head.
Eli listens. He has no choice, as words neither adequately express, nor contribute to resolving the conflict.
He listens to Cole reprimand Serra ineffectually.
He listens to Sosiel rage against the injustice.
He listens to Jurin focus on the task at hand.
He listens to Jothindra petition for sanity.
He listens to Serra rationalize and belittle.
"Yes, Serra here was overzealous in his actions."
"Overzealous." Eli snorts, then wanders out to the edge of the camp, and listens again, this time for Beagan's return.
. . . . . .
. . . . .
. . . .
... Nurah had been cornered, suspected of treason. Rather than surrender, she tried to ensorcel Beagan, little knowing that he would protect her with every breath without the aid of Magic. The rest of the party attacked the little halfling until she fell quiet to the ground. Serra, possibly in the midst of a Othoen War flashback, cleaved the creature in two. Beagan, overwhelmed with his past and present feelings of guilt regarding his time with the halfling slaves, and with the violent voices in his head, swore at the overgrown knight and sped off on his faithful wolf bunny... Those still under the effects of a detect magic spell could swear that another aura chased after him, though they saw nothing physical around to cast such an aura.
Though the party waited, and then the party looked, there was no sign of Beagan to be found. Faced with failing to complete their mission or continuing to search for their companion, the party had no choice but to continue on towards Drezen.
Their path takes them up the Nahari gorge and into the Worldwound proper. Difficult to navigate, the gorge is none the less the safest route to their destination, even if it does slow them even further. Soon, the shadows grow long making the walls of the gorge seem to loom overhead, blocking even the faint sunlight that previous brightened their path.
To the right, Cole (and anyone else with a passive 14+ perception) spy a narrow stairway carved into the cliff face. Above, the dying rays of the day's feeble sunlight glimmer off white stone arrayed in sharp, man-made lines, some 90fet above near the cliff's edge.
Sosiel stops, his gaze lingering as he draws Iomedae's blessed blade upon his chest and whispers a faint prayer before explaining.
"After Drezen was founded and before the First Crusade ended, several crusading paladins and priests built a number of chapels in the lands surrounding their new fortress city. Each of these chapels was devoted to a different deity of the crusade (mostly Iomedae, Erastil, Torag, Sarenrae, Shelyn, or Abadar—deities normally served by paladins), and each was intended to serve as a hospital for injured soldiers and a way-station for weary travelers. I suspect this is the remains of one such chapel. Perhaps we should go check it out."
Weapon Equipped = Composite (+2) Long Bow, darkwood, +1, adaptive
Cold Iron Arrows = 54/54
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 = 10/10
+1, Holy, Cold Iron Blanch Arrows = 5/5
+1, Evil Outsider Slaying (DC20 fort or +50hp damage), Cold Iron Blanch Arrow = 1/1
Conditions = None
Mythic Power = 4/4 (immed., d6)(swift, decisive strike)
Ranger Focus = 2/2 (ex, swift, +4 attack/damage)
Child of the Crusade = 1/1 (free, reroll failed save to be demonically possessed or incapacitated)
Silver Dragon Scale = 3/3 (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) Aspect of the Falcon, Keep Watch
Cole, a little tired from the plodding nature of marching with a large group, grows excited at the prospect of checking out a temple, but he worries about the troops.
”Sosiel, the chapels could be demonic outposts now, we should proceed with caution. Laina pass the word that we camp here. Double the watch until I return.”
”I and any who care to join me, will investigate the chapel - see if there is anything there we can use. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and there will be some food stores buried up there to extend our reach. If it is a demonic outpost, we should clear it so they cannot harras us as we pass.”
”Jurin, I know you have much to do when we make camp, but I want you with the investigating party if you would. If there is gear up there we can use, you should be there to sort it out - not to mention your skill with weapons if it’s full of demons.”
Cole dismounts, ”Prepare yourselves, we head up the stairs in 5 minutes.”
Cole sees to his horse and checks over his gear, paying special attention to his weapons. When he’s ready, he joins the others at the foot of the stairs. He checks for tracks there to see if there’s any indication of past travelers.
Cole doesn't see any signs of past travelers. He does notice, however, that the stairs will be quite the climb for those that aren't good at such things.
Cole eyes the stairwell thoughtfully and looks to Serra's bulk, and bulky armor.
"Some of us may have trouble with this climb. I do have some rope for safety. But there will be some... difficult passages I think. We should proceed carefully."
Jurin nods to Cole, then nods to Brokenose, and continues to nod to people on his way to the pregroup meeting meeting.
"You got it Cole. You're shaping up to be a fine Captain. You might even make General some day!"
Not that he'll ever outrank me of course. Of course!
Eli looks up the cliffside for as high as his sight will let him, and figures it's a good thing his mind is unaware of exactly how taxing the climb will be.
"I'm ready when you are."
The old man debates a swig of water, and decides it will be better for his muscles to hydrate.
"Who scouts for us now?"
Serra looks around for Kastor and smiles when he finds the lad nearby. Though the boy had returned, that he had sped off after Beagan concerned Serra greatly. Since that time, Serra had kept a careful eye on the boy and asked the others to do so as well.
"He won't talk about why he sped after Beagan, but, just the same, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep an eye on him," Serra had asked. "With all these soldiers around, he's much more likely to get lost and escape notice. It was easier to keep an eye on him before, wasn't it?"
When Cole asked for volunteers, Serra was quick to accept. The climb up daunted him, no doubt, but, he was a knight who had walked out of the deepest pit under Kenabres: he could dang well walk up this damn cliff too.
---
"Who will scout for us now?"
Serra looks again up the cliff and thinks.
"If you all will keep an eye on Kastor for me, I'll be happy to scout above. They might not react negatively to my presence like they do yours...especially when I am under Tendrelev's gift," Serra says, holding his scale.
"Cole, if you would like, I shall scout ahead," Serra volunteers. "I will toss a coin down when it is safe to follow."
Serra nods grimly, calling upon the power of his scale. In a few moments the power of the scale transforms him to a familiar figure, Serraling.
Serraling checks out his hunchback and incongruous feets and smiles wickedly.
"Watch for the falling coin," Serraling utters before making the trek up the path, eyes alert.
Perception
If necessary, Serra will remove his chain shirt so he can climb more easily:
Take 10 climb: = 15
Cole nods to Serra, "Be careful and take no undue risks."
He waits and watches for the proffered coin.
Sir Serra, stripped of his armor and emboldened by his stronger altered form, slowly begins to edge up the ancient stairs. Most of the early stairs are in decent shape and he makes it nearly 30 feet with no problems. Unfortunately, a few missing stairs near the landing requires Serra to crab his way across using mostly natural handholds and broken remnants of the missing stairs. Taking his time and being very...very... careful, he manages to get to the next set of stairs to continue on his way.
The others are able to follow his progress for another 30 feet before he must once again use all of his strength and skill to cross another broken section of the stairs. Once again, Serra's hunched back and incongruous feet somehow seem to aid his struggle from tiny foothold to crumbling foothold to the dubious safety of the last long flight of stairs that climbs 90feet into the air to the distant top of the gorge.
Serra, atop, tosses a copper down and waits. He tries to keep quiet and unseen.
Perception
Stealth
Edit: Perception per request:
Perception
Serraling stands on his incongruous feets, looking around. He waits as if he is expecting to be greeted.
Bluff (+4 more if watchers are evil)
Serra drops the coin, sending it tumbling down into the gorge below. Suddenly, one of the stone statues leering off the edge of the temple flies down and hovers in front of Serra. "Кто тебя послал, потомство?"
Serraling itches his mighty hunchyback while he ponders how to respond.
Know (Dung)
Serraling looks the creature up and down, but does not answer it. He sneers as he reaches into his pouch...to pull out a vial of demon's blood.
He shows it to the creature, looking as if it should know what it is.
Bluff (+4 more if evil)
Seeing the promised coin fall, Eli looks to Cole to get the group moving again. As the gaggle proceeds, the old man turns his attention downward hardly at all, for the good it will do him in assessing the true danger of the fall.
He produces some rope, and goes to far as to offer tying himself to another to cross over the perilous gaps. As soon as they across, he'll detach himself efficiently.
"How much further up is it, Cole?"
Cole sees the coin fall and energetically begins his climb.
When he hits the first rough spot, he takes out his silk rope and positions himself to help any others who may need it.
""How much further up is it, Cole?"
"Looks to be near a hundred feet up, give or take. Just take your time and be careful."
Serraling looks at the gargoyle with a continuing evil leer, wondering what is going through its rocky brain.
The creature puzzles over the vial, his stony brow furrowing. "What is that? Something you've come to trade with Nulkineth? He said nothing about you..." He taps his granite chin with a claw as black as obsidian.
Eli waits until he can gain assistance for the second climb, worried about the risk of a greater fall.
Jurin will look at the cliff and decide flying is the better part of valor.
"Hold on there youngin'. Yup, put your foot there. There you go."
Serraling flashes a toothy tiefling smile and looks at the now common-speaking gargoyle.
He sneers, holding up the vial for the gargolye to view. He switches to gutteral Common.
"Demon blood." Serraling puts the vial back in his pouch. "Amazing stuff...when you give to food: like humans, elves, gnomes, etc., they become our slaves, lusting for the substance. I have a group of slaves coming up the slope now, all of them lusting for more. "
Serraling leers at the gargolye.
"This an old man who considers himself wise," Serraling explains. "A 'captain' who thinks himself righteous. A cook who feeds the stuff to his troops. And they crave the stuff. They will do anything for it. ANYTHING."
Serraling rubs his mighty humpyback as if delighting in his control over his minions.
"Watch my power over them, won't you?" Serraling brags as he walks to the edge. He shouts down the cliff.
Serraling seems confident his 'slaves' will get the picture.
Bluff
The craggy creature tips his head, confused as the visitor talks in a foreign tongue.
It is only when Serra turns back to common that understanding dawns on his face.
"Ah! Food!?! Why did you not say so? Nulkineth has never ordered out before. Still, I think he will be pleased. The children will be grow quickly with such a smorgasboard as I heard heralding your approach. And they follow you so well! Will they all climb up on their own? Or should we go help them?" With a nod, two other creatures take flight from the roof and begin to circle.
One of them lands beside the first and grumbles something to the first.
"Where is the fun of the food just showing up? We should scatter them and hunt them down!"
Cole climbs the last of the stairs and looks upon three (?) gargoyles. He moves away from the edge and looks confused at Serra.
"But lord, you know we have no meat surely?! Or have you forgotten?"
He makes no hostile moves until Eli and Jurin have both cleared the edge and are a safe distance from it.
Serraling grumps at his minion, but turns his attention to the gargoyle.
"You cannot eat these...they are for Nulkineth. They are useful for what needs to be done. But they have friends who are less useful," Serraling say, licking his lips as well.
"After I present these to Nulkineth, we shall call the others up...and you shall eat your fill."
Bluff
The apparent leader of the group laughs, "Your slaves are none too bright. They'll be perfect for tonight's ritual."
"Still, he looks like he could hide good. Are you sure we're not scattering for a hunt?" says the second one, still hoping for some excitement.
The third continues to spiral overhead, and makes no comment.
"Don't be greedy. Rykik." says the first to the second, who is apparently named Rykik.
"We will save some, but first we must get them all up here. Go, "Help" the others."
Meanwhile, the others at the top of the ravine continue to delude the stony guardians.
"Come on boy, you got this. Supper is waiting at the top, you heard him."
Cole reflexively reaches toward his quiver, wherein lies his bow, but he hesitates and scratches his head under his hat instead. He looks to Serra to provide some sort of answer.
He moves closer to Serra, careful to keep his head bent in supplication.
If, however, the third gargoyle begins to fly down to attack the troops, he grabs his bow in the surprise round as he moves to keep the gargoyle in sight so as to shoot him next round.