"Stew? Yes, I smell it too! They must be here." Seneca casts enhanced diplomacy and follows Narnel into the opening.
Tkurzhan, uncomfortable closing the distance across so long a hostile stretch, instead seeks to remove his aggressor. Preoccupied with defending himself, however, his attack lacks ferocity.
Aidan, watching Pluchak transform, reaches a hand through the madness to bolster his friend.
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Aidan does what he can to bolster Pluchak, and Tkurzhan desperately tries to limit the dead that now crowds him. Pluchak throws his weapon down, not in surrender but instead he becomes something feral, and his rage is fearsome indeed! In the blink of an eye the human shaped thing behind him becomes so much carrion! And then with his claws done with their work, his mouth tears into a second one, though it does not fell it. When he is done with his carnage, he takes a step toward Abbas.
The archer seems none to happy with Abbas glib dismissal of his arrow and tries again. This time he has better results and the arrow finds a way through Abbas armor. Lethal? No but certainly painful!
Narnel moves down the stairs first and with confidence. And here is a surprise! Despite the length of this reverse seige, this basement is full of dried meats, barrels of liqueur (imagine having to be the poor bastards who moved these down the stairs!) There is sugar and meal and flour. Bottles of wine(maybe hundreds of them!) and dried apples, mushrooms, fish, onions, tomatoes and more herbs than you can name. Potatoes rot in the corner but aside from this, most the food appears to be good. Narnel is no cook though and surprised as he might be he notices the thing out of place here. The thing that does not match is a childs dolly seemingly dropped on the floor. And then he realizes something else... He can see all around this open area and there are no more doors or windows or any openings and there is no one else here.
Harlynns eagles appear and in a flash of feathers the red eyed man crumples to the ground and the read is gone from his eyes.
Seneca looks around, "Doll. No people. Must be another secret door." Seneca begins searching the basement to see if he can find another opening.
You probably have something there, Seneca.
narnel begins searching as well.
Pereception:
Taedric attempts to run down one of the dead attacking Abbas , and continues past to the wall, trying to keep room to maneuver.
for
{+4 charge, +1 inspire courage} {1d6+1+1, doubled for charge}
HP: 30/30
AC 19, Touch 12, Flat-footed 18 (No longer penalized on charge) -- CMD 13
Readied Weapon: Lance +5 (1d6+1/x3) {Reach, Piercing/Bludgeon, Double Damage on Charge}
Trumps:
HP: 24/24
AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14 (Includes -2 for Charge)
CMD 18 (22 vs trip)
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Taedric charges again and again the lance bites deep, though Taedric is struck that it did not bite deep enough... It did not cause the full damage he expected.
Meanwhile Seneca again looks for things left secret... But it all looks so ordinary. He is not even clear where to start. Bryndyn scours around feverishly. He knows each moment here is one where he is not there, fighting. Pulled between the conflict, he hopes to end this soon. His eyes do not any better than Seneca's at finding a hidden way, if indeed there be one.
Outside, the spray of Pluchaks blood seems to have excited the dead horde! Abbas and Tkurzhan handily dodges their blows, but Pluchak is not so fortunate. He is hit and hit hard and falls to the ground. Elinor is also struck. They hit like a sledge hammer.
If there is any good news it is this, the dead mired by Aidan, do not burst their trap, and instead remain mired, though how long it can last is anyone's guess, but Desna would not guess long!
The glint of hope in Pluchak's eyes fades, and the blood the undead draw from him becomes too great. His foot slips in the mud created by his own blood and the ground and he slams against the building, sliding down and becoming his own grisly paintbrush. He can't hear the pounding in his ears anymore and the roar of the dragon descends into white noise. In fact everything turns white for a moment.
Elinor keeps her back to the wall and steps backwards towards Abbas. She knows this leaves Aidan exposed, but she's seen he can care for himself in a pinch, and he can run away whereas Pluchak cannot, although the amount of blood pouring from him suggest that whether he can or cannot has become a moot point. Her song becomes a funeral march, heralding the path of mighty warriors into the afterlife. There still being moving foes, she slashes out with her grandfather's sword at the nearest, (preferably injured) one. 'You can always take one with you,' she thinks to herself.
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Abbas indignation drops an opponent. Slash slash and it wordlessly falls. Elinor is not so fortunate, but both these warriors converge on Pluchak to spare him further injury. One could go a lifetime and find no better friends.
The ghoul thing continues to move through dark alleys and the mote keeps its attention on Harlynn and on its darting attack makes contact with the mage. Oh pain! it stings and sears at once and takes Harlynns breath
away!
And it would be better if the night were quiet, if this host were all the enemy, but everyone of you sense this is just the point of a much larger attack.
Aidan speaks a few words in a whisper and his hand glows with a bright white light, but as Elinor leaves him open he curses, unable to reach Pluchak yet with the magic.
Tkurzhan growls at the lone zombie between him and his master, and will brook no further interference from it.
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While Aidan plots, the big cat rends. The dead man does not fall for the cat, but it cannot last long.
Pluchak continues to gurgle in his own blood. If anything his shallow breathing has become more labored.
The archer turns his eye to Taedric, nay to Trumps and releases another wicked arrow! Luck holds the wolf though. The arrow is long ways from touching him.
Narnel is able to use his keen eyes to good effect in the basement. A large keg on a wheeled rack is slightly pulled out. On instinct, he pulls it out the rest the way. Behind the keg is a wooden wall, which stands out as all the others are made of stone.
The eagles charge to protect their infernal master. Beak and talon tear into the ghoul.
Seeing his brave companion fall, Taedric snarls and charges one of the offending ghouls standing over Pluchak, then wheels down the street to the south to give himself space to charge again.
for
{+4 charge, +1 inspire courage} {1d6+1+1, doubled for charge}
HP: 30/30
AC 19, Touch 12, Flat-footed 18 (No longer penalized on charge) -- CMD 13
Readied Weapon: Lance +5 (1d6+1/x3) {Reach, Piercing/Bludgeon, Double Damage on Charge}
Trumps:
HP: 24/24
AC 18, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14 (Includes -2 for Charge)
CMD 18 (22 vs trip)
Seneca rushes forward to the wooden wall exposed by Narnel. Of course they had to be here. He takes a look at the wall, trying to make sure it hasn't been trapped against the restless dead and calls out in an exaggerated whisper, "We're here to save you, but we need to hurry! Our friends are holding off the dead up above. We need to get you to safety."
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The eagles move in unison, and while their intent is sound, they do little more than harry the mote.
Taedric hits a dead man, and does so firmly. His mind leaps though as the attack seems to bite less deeply than experience tells him it ought.
Seneca exercises caution and examines the boards. He sees nothing that indicates they are anything but what they appear to be, normal unadorned wooden slats.
Bryndyn still looks torn between duty above and this duty below.
The dead continue their relentless assault. 2 of them break free of the mire and race at Taedric. The others continue reining blows down like falling rocks! Abbas is hit as is Elinor, and the hit to Elinor is devastating. Tkurzhan avoids his opponent as does Taedric, and miraculously, Aidan is ignored, at least for now. The scene is becoming more desperate by the moment!
"Oh!" says Elinor in a surprised voice as the force of the zombie's blow makes a mockery of the steel her armour is made from. "Oh dear."
She crumples and savours the last few seconds of her life.
Stabilise
"G'by....sexy. G'...nnnnn...by chanj...chanjlingggg. Ssss...save...th'...th'...kids." Taedric and Narnel hear her final words through the magic of her voice which stabilises for a last time as she hears Valhalla calling. "Pour me an ale when you get back."
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Abbas' mouth drops open in horror at seeing Elinor crumple like a sack of potatoes. His eyes move from the bard to the half-orc and back again before he makes a decision in the cold of this night. Chivalry wins for now.
Stepping closer to the girl, Abbas bends down past Pluchak and he places a quick hand over her face. The warrior fixes his chin in grim concentration and he begins to think back to the past childhood, calling on his innate powers.
"Light shines, blood heals."
Its like every throbbing vein and artery, bursts in silhouette form, all shining from his heart outwards until the bad is bathed in healing. Then the life light fires out and down his arm into Elinor.
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The dead man swings wildly at Abbas but does not hit him as the man performs a miracle and stops the flow of blood from the shield maiden. She is still very hurt, but Valhalla must wait at least a breath longer before it claims this one.
Aidan finds his position worse than before. One of those cursed ghoul things has crept through the alleys and is now in striking distance behind him.
The speck of orange turns from the wizard and tries mightily to kill an eagle. Its bite stings the eagle, which cries out in pain.
for
Taedric shouts out, "They resist my blows!", and then curses as the undead rush him, They're ruining my charge lines.... His mental curses grow even worse as Elinor's inspiring song cuts off with a gurgle.
Lady, these odds are looking long. Could you slip me a wildcard?
He directs Trumps to pull down one the uninjured attacking corpse and swings at the other, hoping to clear a path to his injured friends.
for and
for
HP: 30/30
AC 19, Touch 12, Flat-footed 18 (No longer penalized on charge) -- CMD 14
Readied Weapon: Lance +5 (1d6+1/x3) {Reach, Piercing/Bludgeon, Double Damage on Charge}
Trumps:
HP: 24/24
AC 20, Touch 14, Flat-footed 16
CMD 18 (22 vs trip)
Narnel will try to open the door.
If locked, then he will take out his tools and pick the lock.
Disable Device:
If not locked but just boards, or barred from the inside, then he will throw a shoulder into it to open.
Str Check:
We have come to save you, let us in! All of our lives are at stake!
We must abandon this madness! Aidan's voice is that of cold reason. He scowls at the dead behind him, stepping closer to Pluchak and laying a hand on the injured monster. A soft white lightning pops with a muffled crack, infusing the crumpled form with vitality.
Tkurzhan rails at the situation, but dare not cross open country. With one last growl at the dead in front of him, he wheels about and races through the alleys.
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Aidan steps over Elinor and touches Pluchak and instantly the big man stops bleeding and ever some of his wounds close. The big cat makes good his escape.
The archer nocks another arrow and again tries to hit Trumps. Is the prayer for luck answered with another miss?
Narnel looks at the opening and seeing no lock or hinge just rushes at it, bringing his shoulder hard into the wood. It cracks and splinters and some of it falls away. Enough for him to note 2 things... A tunnel that goes on into blackness and the scents he had been picking up earlier intensified. Wood smoke, a rich stew and now the smell of unclean bodies. Offal and sweat. The combination is not pleasant. But there is no sound in the dark, and the elf can see no end to the tunnel.
"Nice work Narnel. I think we've found our survivors. I'm a little worried about what's going on up top though. No sign of our companions." Seneca follows up Narnel's blow to the wood barricade with his own shoulder.
I too am concerned...let's hurry!
He rushes in!
Perception:
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Narnel looks at the opening and seeing no lock or hinge just rushes at it, bringing his shoulder hard into the wood. It cracks and splinters and some of it falls away. As the wood barrier falls so does another one of more supernatural origins. When the wood cracks, it is clear to see ropes of luminous gold. The glowing strands strain and then snap and where there was robe there are now fireflies. Thousands of them, that crawl fly and scramble into the black in all directions. And in seconds they have all extinguished their lights, though if they remain it you cannot immediately tell. There is a small opening now, big enough for him to note 2 things... A tunnel that goes on into blackness and the scents he had been picking up earlier intensified. Wood smoke, a rich stew and now the smell of unclean bodies. Offal and sweat. The combination is not pleasant. But there is no sound in the dark, and the elf can see no end to the tunnel.
"Interesting, alarm or protection?"
Seneca casts light and moves into the tunnel. Again, he'll stop if he sees any motion before the end of his move (20 feet).
The eagles continue to harass Harlynn's attacker
Red 1
Red 2
Red 3
It felt as if he were entering a tunnel. All of the noise was echoing around in his skull and the world was growing dark. Was this the end for him? Did any of it really matter anymore? The heat of his passion for battle was cooling off and his body felt like ice.
Then his body lit up with fire once more. A hand had touched him, and strength reentered his body. He opened his eyes and found an enemy. He dug in with whatever he had and tried to pull the sucker down. His friends might still be out there somewhere, and if he could help them escape he would, even to his own end.