Things for Lio to Do:
Create at least one more Glyph of Wearding, usind the domain spell slot. (200gp worth of diamond dust - i has it.)
*7 times a day at this point* *Blast Rune (Sp): As a standard action, you can create a blast rune in any adjacent square. Any creature entering this square takes 1d6 points of damage + 1 point for every two cleric levels you possess. This rune deals either acid, cold, electricity, or fire damage, decided when you create the rune. The rune is invisible and lasts a number of rounds equal to your cleric level or until discharged. You cannot create a blast rune in a square occupied by another creature. This rune counts as a 1st-level spell for the purposes of dispelling. It can be discovered with a DC 26 Perception skill check and disarmed with a DC 26 Disable Device skill check. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
Attach Hyrdaulic Push (1st lvl) to Blast rune! x4
(one 1st lvl spell goes to goodberry every day)
2ND Level:
Campfire Wall x2
Soften Earth and Stone x2
3RD Level:
Ash Storm 2x
Sleet Storm 2x
4TH level:
Spike Stone 1x
Volcanic Storm 1x
(one goes to grove of respite every day)
<It will take me a little while to make sketches, but certainly. But in the meantime, here's an older sketch which is similar to what I had in mind in some ways.> She takes a small, slim book out of her pack and flips through the pages until she finds the right one.
<What I had in mind for you was full length rather than a mini, and wider spacing between the lacings on the side to let the tattoos show - maybe even just ties, spaced around the tattoos. But this might give you the general idea of it.>.
<Oh, wow. Uhm... maybe something a little... longer? But... wow.> She's a little overwhelmed at how much it shows. But you get the feeling she likes the idea.
<Maybe.. it would be better if I showed you the tattoos? ...I, I don't want to offend you by suggesting that though... if that's not appropriate> She adds quickly, Alaric's strange behavior and Shae's idea of what might have happened still fresh in her mind, and a bit of fear of alienating Zaiobe if there's some strange convention that Lio doesn't know about that's she's violating.
Rhost walks over to Hrunndalf.
"Brain out of danger?" he asks.
"Yeah," Hrunndalf nods gratefully. "Think so. Miss her a bit, though. Everything was so simple."
"Yeah," Hrunndalf nods gratefully. "Think so. Miss her a bit, though. Everything was so simple."
"And she asked so nicely," Ameiko says, with a faint smile.
"You'll never know if you don't ask. Let her decide if you're worth the risk. Don't deny her the choice."
"Still. She must know about Ameiko. I don't know if I could give her a fair chance."
"Well, I'm relatively certain that you could take Ulf in a fair fight," teases Kalimac.
"Oh, but he wouldn't fight fair. He'd just strand me somewhere in the ice. 'Hey, Hrunndalf, why don't you scout out that ominously crater-shaped vale over there? It's called the Pit of No Return, but don't let that fool you. It's so safe you should go alone.'"
"She's dead? Thot's t'rrible. Mayhaps she'll wont ta be reincarnat'd or we coulde use 'e seal?" Lio asks Mel from the safety of Shae's embrace."Apparently not," Shalelu says as the woman dissolves into snow a short time later.
Lio snuggles against Shae, for warmth, and maybe comfort. "How sad." Her voice is muffled against the cloak the two women are sharing.
"And she asked so nicely," Ameiko says, with a faint smile.
"That she did," Hrunndalf grins back. "But of course you had to miss your chord and spoil the moment."
<Oh, wow. Uhm... maybe something a little... longer? But... wow.> She's a little overwhelmed at how much it shows. But you get the feeling she likes the idea.
<Maybe.. it would be better if I showed you the tattoos? ...I, I don't want to offend you by suggesting that though... if that's not appropriate> She adds quickly, Alaric's strange behavior and Shae's idea of what might have happened still fresh in her mind, and a bit of fear of alienating Zaiobe if there's some strange convention that Lio doesn't know about that's she's violating.
Zaiobe nods. <I was planning on making it longer than that, possibly even ankle length. And if I'm going to be your outfitter, I really should see the tattoos, honestly, so I can design around them. If we have a proper fitting at some point, I'd be seeing you, um, skyclad at that time anyway, if we go with this design.>
The much shorter length of her body is against yours, her already wet sex finding yours, undulating against you, even as your legs are still wrapped around her. Her hands on your hips, pulling you closer, even though there is no possible way for you to be closer, she grinds against you, over and over. You feel her teeth against your nipples, then her tongue, then her lips, then her teeth. Her breath is hot and moist. The alcohol making your nipples tingle where her teeth have been.
She presses herself back up against you, the hand on your head clutching your hair, the other reaching out to find your lower back, pulling you towards her, her legs wrapped around you pressing you in, as close as she can, as close as two people can get. Her body in constant motion against yours, her head rolls back, soft noises of pleasure escaping from her throat.
Zaiobe nods. <I was planning on making it longer than that, possibly even ankle length. And if I'm going to be your outfitter, I really should see the tattoos, honestly, so I can design around them. If we have a proper fitting at some point, I'd be seeing you, um, skyclad at that time anyway, if we go with this design.>
<They're.. uhm.. all on the left side, in a snakey sort of line... With the exception of the wing which is on my left shoulder blade.> She tells you. <At what point, should there be a fitting? Would that be for when the dress is already made? How would that work?> She's never been fitted before. It's probably obvious. <Should Shae be there? Or... I read something about couples not seeing each others clothes before the wedding. Is... what is that about?>
Lio snuggles against Shae, for warmth, and maybe comfort. "How sad." Her voice is muffled against the cloak the two women are sharing.
"Yes," Shalelu replies.
"That she did," Hrunndalf grins back. "But of course you had to miss your chord and spoil the moment."
"My apologies," Ameiko says. "Next time an icy grave yawns before you, I'll try to take it as a matter of course."
She presses herself back up against you, the hand on your head clutching your hair, the other reaching out to find your lower back, pulling you towards her, her legs wrapped around you pressing you in, as close as she can, as close as two people can get. Her body in constant motion against yours, her head rolls back, soft noises of pleasure escaping from her throat.
Soft moans are vibrations against your breasts as her mouth relentlessly tastes you. All she feels is you and her moving as one. All she is aware of is you, and her, in this moment. The slowly spinning world has been completely forgotten. Her entire being is caught up in sensation. In your hands on her lower back, on her head, pulling her hair, the feeling wonderful, something she had never thought she would enjoy. Burst of pleasure, like fireworks or even lights going off behind her eyes. Her hands move back around your behind, holding on, grabbing tightly, almost painfully so, as she presses you against her, as your meet her movements.
knowledge arcana
<They're.. uhm.. all on the left side, in a snakey sort of line... With the exception of the wing which is on my left shoulder blade.> She tells you. <At what point, should there be a fitting? Would that be for when the dress is already made? How would that work?> She's never been fitted before. It's probably obvious. <Should Shae be there? Or... I read something about couples not seeing each others clothes before the wedding. Is... what is that about?>
<The fitting would be when the dress is almost complete, so that final adjustments can be made. There is a superstition that it's bad luck for the couple to see each others' clothes before the wedding, but some people ignore it these days. I think it exists solely to so that the moment of seeing what the other is wearing a pleasant surprise on the day itself, personally.>
knowledge arcana 1d20 + 4
It is entirely possible, even likely, that she had no idea she was doing it.
<The fitting would be when the dress is almost complete, so that final adjustments can be made. There is a superstition that it's bad luck for the couple to see each others' clothes before the wedding, but some people ignore it these days. I think it exists solely to so that the moment of seeing what the other is wearing a pleasant surprise on the day itself, personally.>
<So you will make the dress, and then work around the tattoos after?> She asks, a bit confused.
<I think, it might be nice... to not know what Shae is doing with her dress... to... not tell her about mine, except maybe for the fabric, since she told me her choice already.>
"That she did," Hrunndalf grins back. "But of course you had to miss your chord and spoil the moment.""My apologies," Ameiko says. "Next time an icy grave yawns before you, I'll try to take it as a matter of course."
"She dinna know she wos doing et." Lio says, defending the dead woman, even as she is angry at being manipulated. "Spells worn off. I ken weth the snow storm." She adds. Looking up at Shae for a moment, a silent thank you for maintaining a cool head. A part of her, clearly still thinks it's tragic that the woman came to such an end, and she's sad that there isn't anything Lio can think of that might help the spirit rest.
<So you will make the dress, and then work around the tattoos after?> She asks, a bit confused. <I think, it might be nice... to not know what Shae is doing with her dress... to... not tell her about mine, except maybe for the fabric, since she told me her choice already.>
<Sorry, didn't mean to confuse you - I should see the tattoos as soon as you are willing, so I can design around them. I simply meant that because of the fitting, it's pretty much inevitable that I see you in at most a pair of socks at some point in this process, so it would be rather counterproductive for me to take offense at it happening sooner than that.>
<And I will endeavor to make your dress a nice surprise, then.>
While setting out for a scouting trip, Hrunndalf says to Shalelu, "Turns out Ameiko prefers me as a friend rather than a suitor. Was worth a try though. Thanks for your advice. I'd never have made it this far."
Hrunndalf tells Koya about the recent developments. As with Shalelu, he ends on a grateful note. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be wondering. I feel... hm, nostalgic, maybe? About my aspirations. Picturing a future with Ameiko. But mostly I feel liberated. It's good to know. Look forward. New horizons."
"My apologies," Ameiko says. "Next time an icy grave yawns before you, I'll try to take it as a matter of course."
Hrunndalf gives her a silent grateful grin. Then he adds, sincerely, "Thanks for caring."
DATES: Calistril 25
LOCATION: The High Ice
SPECIAL ENCOUNTERS:
WEATHER: Unusually Warm
WIND: Light
DAY/NIGHT CYCLE: Polar Night
AVERAGE TEMPERATURE: 0 degrees Fahrenheit / -17.8 degrees Celsius
DISTANCE TRAVELED: 32 miles
TOTAL DISTANCE FROM SANDPOINT: 4275 miles
TOTAL TIME SINCE LEAVING SANDPOINT: 170 days
You reach Dead Man’s Dome mere minutes ahead of the undead horde.
The lonely hill of bare rock rises out of the Ice, offering a commanding view of the landscape for miles around – and more importantly to you right now, high ground. At the crest of the hill is a collapsed fort, the stone ceiling fallen into piles of rubble. But some stout stone walls of varying size still stand as a potential bulwark against attack.
As you drag the Wagons into the ruin, the axles of the Women's Wagon shatter completely, done in by the freezing cold and recent rapid temperature changes. If escape were even a possibility before, it seems a very dim one now.
You don’t have enough time to set up camp, but those of you with defensive magics begin shoring up the meager walls with spells. Myriana quickly makes and sets out explosive traps. Hrunndalf creates deadly barriers of pure flame. And Liothonae ...
Inscribes arcane runes on the rock that will push back and burn your foes. Sets down glyphs that will blast them with lightning or summon monsters to combat them. Turns the rock of the hill into a slog of mud for your foes to push through. Creates barriers of crackling light. Summons forth storms of ash and sleet to hinder your opponents. Makes the stones of the ruined walls erupt with deadly spikes. Calls forth hot volcanic rocks to rain down from the sky. In general, turns the very elements of nature itself into your ally against the onrushing undead.
Apparently, Liothonae is a very handy person to have around in a siege situation.
Hrunndalf's walls of fire do not last long without a conscious effort to maintain them, so he summons them only once the enemy horde has closed to within a bowshot's range. Until then, he helps Sandru and Shalelu herd the wagons between the ruined walls and get everyone prepared for battle.
In the final moments before the clash, Hrunndalf recites what appears to be an incantation in his native tongue.
"Heyrið það sé ég föður minn. Heyrið það sé ég móður mína og systur mína og bræður mínir. Heyrið það sé ég línu þjóðar minnar, til baka í upphafi. Heyr, þeir kalla til mín, bjóða þeir mér að taka fram mína meðal þeirra, í sölum af Valhalla, þar sem hugrakkir geta lifað ... að eilífu."
Then he shouts down at the battlefield, and a curtain of angry fire bursts from the ground, fifty paces wide, tall as four men, and hungry for bones.
Soft moans are vibrations against your breasts as her mouth relentlessly tastes you. All she feels is you and her moving as one. All she is aware of is you, and her, in this moment. The slowly spinning world has been completely forgotten. Her entire being is caught up in sensation. In your hands on her lower back, on her head, pulling her hair, the feeling wonderful, something she had never thought she would enjoy. Burst of pleasure, like fireworks or even lights going off behind her eyes. Her hands move back around your behind, holding on, grabbing tightly, almost painfully so, as she presses you against her, as your meet her movements.
Her muscles tensing, straining, her arms and legs locked around you, her nipples swollen, glistening with your saliva, her movements small, intense, reaching for the peak, reaching to bring you there with her.
While setting out for a scouting trip, Hrunndalf says to Shalelu, "Turns out Ameiko prefers me as a friend rather than a suitor. Was worth a try though. Thanks for your advice. I'd never have made it this far."
She nods. "Sometimes, that is simply how life evolves."
Hrunndalf tells Koya about the recent developments. As with Shalelu, he ends on a grateful note. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be wondering. I feel... hm, nostalgic, maybe? About my aspirations. Picturing a future with Ameiko. But mostly I feel liberated. It's good to know. Look forward. New horizons."
"Good way t' look at it," Koya says. "We've new lands t' see, new people t' meet, an' at least one of us is still young. I'll let ya guess which."
The undead come in waves.
They are burned by fire, submerged in mud and ash. You riddle them with arrows, hurl titanic, deadly spells at them. Still they come, fighting their way through your defenses, seeking to tear at your flesh.
Many never make it through the rows of defenses you have set up. But when they do, they rampage through your ranks, crushing, clawing, freezing.
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You manage to beat back the first wave of undead.
The Caravan has taken 88 hit points of damage.
Then the next wave comes ...
They attack, and attack, and attack. There is no mercy here, no quarter, no retreat. These are not living beings that can be reasoned with, but piles of bones animated by twisted magics. And even though those bones now litter the hillside in heaps – the bones of men, of beasts, of huge, strange creatures – on the others march, seeking only your destruction, struggling to get inside the boundaries of the rings of defense.
Once they are there, it falls to your warriors to stab at them with swords, bash them with hammers, impale them with lances, slice them with polearms, and bring them down. But before they fall, you feel the chill bite of their teeth and claws.
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You vanquish a second wave of monsters, but you are less fortunate this time, and the undead break through your defenses again and again. Although you have beaten them back, it was a pyrrhic victory. You are exhausted, bloodied, nearly shattered.
The Caravan takes 204 hit points of damage, for a total of 292. It has 38 hit points remaining.
Then the third wave comes.
When the undead are distant, Rhost grimly plinks away at them with the returning starknife. It is almost comical, if the situation were not incredibly dire.
** spoiler omitted **
As the massed undead charge once more up the hill, seeking to overwhelm and destroy you completely, something strange happens.
The ghostly spirit of a warrior rises out of the hillside. Rather than attacking you with the rest of the undead, however, he swings his translucent axe at your opponents, striking them down before they can reach you, helping defend your bastion.
The Dead Man of Dead Man’s Dome has decided to lend you his aid.
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A final tidal wave of unliving horrors finally makes its way past the Dead Man and past your defenses. On you last legs, you fight them off, grimly battering them down one by one, barely surviving the attack. Turning outward once again with little hope, you expect a final onrush of the enemy to finish you off once and for all ...
To discover that there are no more.
The only moving creature on the hill is the spirit of the Dead Man, shimmering slightly in the darkness.
The rest of the bone-strewn hill is as quiet as a grave.
The Caravan has taken an additional 31 points of damage for a total of 323. It has 7 hit points remaining.
But it was not destroyed. Your comrades are all still alive.
You have won the battle.
When the undead are distant, Rhost grimly plinks away at them with the returning starknife. It is almost comical, if the situation were not incredibly dire.
Lio glances at Jorun. A part of her feeling guilty for dragging him out here. A part of her proud that her apprentice refused to leave way back when she told him the dangers. Her eyes go to Shae. Fill with love. With a renewed will. She steps forward, her bow at the ready, almost out of arrows. When she runs out, she will change shape, to fight with natural weapons.
Lio glances at Jorun. A part of her feeling guilty for dragging him out here. A part of her proud that her apprentice refused to leave way back when she told him the dangers. Her eyes go to Shae. Fill with love. With a renewed will. She steps forward, her bow at the ready, almost out of arrows. When she runs out, she will change shape, to fight with natural weapons.
When it is clear that the undead are finally no more, Shalelu drops her bow from bleeding fingers and draws Liothonae into an embrace, no matter what form the druid might be in.
Buttersnips fades back into visibility and sheaths her knife, glancing over to make sure that Myriana is unharmed.
Zaiobe and Spivey start their descent down from aerial combat duty.
Ameiko and Sandru lean on each other slightly, favoring their injuries.
Reta is freed from the paralysis one of the undead locked her in during the final onslaught and frowns with irritation at missing the last bit.
Kelda surveys the damage and kicks at scattered bones. "Tough fight," she says.
Alaric gets about the serious business of patching everyone up, muttering under his breath the whole time.
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Tollin cleans his gun and re-holsters it.
Koya comes out from the center of the ruin where she had been placed with the other non-combatants and begins tending to the wounded. Uksahkka looks out from the same location with her eyes still wide. Jorun does the same with his face an expressionless mask. Bevelek and Vankar keep their own counsel.
Ulf sheaths his sword and seems to be trying to pretend he hadn't been involved in the fighting.
Xanderghul reappears from performing whatever crucial function he served in the battle.
Skygni, Attatoq, and Silmemir hunt for bones that are not ruined by ice.
Rhost sits for a bit longer, and says, "If either needs anything, let me know."
He stands and stretches.
The only moving creature on the hill is the spirit of the Dead Man, shimmering slightly in the darkness.
Rhost nods to the Dead Man, and starts counting comrades.
That was ... a little close for comfort, but everyone seems to be happy with how it turned out in the end.
Rhost nods to the Dead Man, and starts counting comrades.
When the wounded have been seen to, the Dead Man beckons for someone to come closer to him.
When the wounded have been seen to, the Dead Man beckons for someone to come closer to him.
Alaric approaches cautiously, wondering if this dead person is going to be like Hrunndalf's girlfriend.
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In the aftermath of the undead battle, Kalimac cleans his weapons. This includes a new dagger with engraved images of wolves and a wolf-hair hilt. He gestures with it to Rhost. "Töötab hästi."
When the wounded have been seen to, the Dead Man beckons for someone to come closer to him.Alaric approaches cautiously, wondering if this dead person is going to be like Hrunndalf's girlfriend.
Kalimac has a similar thought, and goes with Alaric in case he needs to be pulled away or defended.
After assuring herself that while people are injured no one is dead, Melinda stays by Reta until the woman can once again move. Then she picks her way through the nearly ruined wagons, a relieved smile at each person that she sees hale and whole.
Covered in blood and ash, she looks up at the ghostly spirit, and in a soft voice that still carries, "感謝您的援助。" And then she waits.
And when the Dead Man beckons, Mel happily approaches at Alaric's side.
The Dead Man points to a particular spot on the ground, salutes you, and then sinks into the ground, returning to his eternal vigil.
A quick search of the ground where he pointed reveals a small terra-cotta figure of a warrior.
Further exploration and searching of Dead Man's Dome reveals nothing other than decades-old wreckage.
Hrunndalf spends his last spell on the healing effort, always keeping an eye out for another wave of enemies. Only slowly does he come to terms with the concept of the battle having ended for good, and with no casualties. He is too exhausted to cheer.
Even after the healing is done and everyone is accounted for, the life only slowly returns to him. Once it does, he starts mending the dents and rents in his armor, then moves on to the armors and clothing of whoever else needs it, which no doubt keeps him busy for a long while.
As Zaiobe comes in from guard duties, she is greeted by a superbly clean wagon the air scented with soft jasmine. Melinda gets up and walks over, helping the winged woman with her outside clothes before pressing a small warm cup of tea into Z's hands and a quick kiss on her mouth.
Melinda smiles over her shoulder at Alaric and then to Zaiobe, "We both wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Z."