The needle tips of the skeleton claws rip down Fssst's spine and he moves past. Gasping as flames lick some of the wounds closed, he places his hands against Bolgir and tries to shove.
Smoog will follow Flung's lead into the fray since he has never actually been in a battle. Trying to keep his bond with Flung in mind, Smoog will stay close to him and try to learn a thing or two about combat.
Pork beats his wings as he takes to the skies once more, going out of reach of Bolgir's claws. He quickly circles around and zips past Bolgir once more, slashing out with his claws as the Kobold begins to tumble into the Geyser. Mud already begins to cover him as he passes Bolgir and makes his way towards Smoog and Flung.
When the red haze clears, Sees finds herself far closer to the fight than she ever intended. This would teach her to try and help someone from range. Still not sure what might get through to the pile of muscles, Sees parrots back Thunk's own modus vocci. "See bone thump Sees Thunk? Sees thunk Thunk thump bone thumpin' Sees!" With her last lurching twist, Sees attempts to slip free of the grappling skeleton, hoping she can continue to keep her new-found bodyguard safe. This close, all she has is her dimwitted meat puppet.
Thunk completes his spin, then immediately realizes
Dizzying, perhaps if I unwind myself.
Thunk need wind that way now! again he tries to force them slightly back with his wild spin
defy danger via dex
for spread around to the foes
Thunk smiles as the thump thump thump of bone on skull echoes all around.
Ah the bard is powering my club, this is a strategic move of great power!
Thunk like glow thing from See.
Grick watches in amazement as the bolt of power is deflected away from the traitorous kobold. He takes in the scene taking place in front of him and mentally calls out to the spirits of the place to provide an explanation of what is happening and what in the world is the geyser!
“What is about to happen?
What should I be on the lookout for?
What here is not what it appears to be?”
Flung was initially impressed by the bolt of energy emitted by Smoog’s device, which led to confusion when the beam seemed to miss Bolgir and hit the geyser of magic. Flung started to get real concerned when the lightning bolt seemed to make the geyser even more unstable. Not being very comfortable around the unpredictable nature of magic at the best of times, this had him even more concerned.
Since Thunk was recklessly spinning among the group of skeletons keeping them occupied and the other group of skeletons were not an immediate threat yet, Flung concurs with Smoog’s suggestion that a physical attack on the necromancer was in order.
Flung hefts his spear on his shoulder and heaves it towards the necromancer. Then in a well-practiced maneuver he pulls a javelin from its strap on his back and gets in a defensive crouch and tells Smoog “Keep an eye out for skeletons on our flank!”
Smoog stashes his magno-gadget and grips the handles of his picks quite tightly. When Flung moves out Smoog falls in step a pace behind looking left and right for any adversaries approaching. Smoog hopes they close the distance to Bolgir quickly.
Ignoring the pain of his injuries, Fsst charges headfirst into Bolgir. The necromancer kobold was swatting his arms wildly overhead, trying to beat away Pork in vampire bat form, but not facing much success. "SLAVES! TO ME!" he cries in desperation as he struggles with the Immolator.
Fsst, your struggles are wild and reckless. Your tail and part of your body touches the stream of magic erupting from the earth, causing immediate, caustic pain to go rocketing through your scales. Your max HP is reduced by 1d8 as you feel your soul being pulled away from your body... but you've got a deathgrip on Bolgir's throat. The screaming of a dragon's voice is filling your ears with a cacophonous sound. What do you do?
Sees-Death is being grappled viciously by the headless kobold skeleton that she attacked. Unable to bite you as its undead instincts drive it to do, the horrible skeleton instead stabs you with its neck vertebrae, brought to jagged edges by the decapitation! Take 2d6 damage as the creature's wild flailing interrupts your spellcasting and pins you to the ground! What do you do?
Meanwhile, the acrobatic stranger is proving why he survived the assault on HIS tribe. Whirling and somersaulting through the skeletons that slash and swipe at him, he makes them all look foolish despite his injuries. Two of the kobold bone-warriors are destroyed completely by the bludgeoning of his club. One remains standing - the other is trying to stab Sees-Death to death with its neck-bones. What do you do?
Flung notices the second group of 4 kobolds closing in around Fsst, who is heedlessly struggling with Bolgir on the very edge of the geyser. You throw your spear with mighty force, Flung, but the spear becomes stuck in the ribcage of one of the kobolds without actually damaging any of its bones. In fact, the skeleton pulls your spear out of its midsection and begins to wield it! Fsst, you're being stabbed by a longspear while you're struggling, what do you do?
Outside of combat, Grick the shaman stares in open awe at the geyser of pure magic spraying out of the ground. Calling upon the spirits, he asks them for answers.
The world seems to melt away around you. Your ears, formerly filled with the screams and struggles of combat, become strangely muted.
Grick, you stand before the spirit of GORLAUG THE CORRUPTOR. In life, the dragon was terrifying - you've only ever seen him awake once in your life, as a youngling. In death, his spirit has lost none of its overpowering malice and malignancy.
You kneel in a spotlight with no perception of the material world around you. Anyone looking at you would see all of the whites of your eyes, and none of the iris. Flapping his mighty wings and elevating himself with his magic, GORLAUG regards his petty servant. You are buffeted by the spiritual gale that his ghostly wings kick up with every flap.
Without waiting for your questions, the dragon speaks. His voice fills your skull until it feels as if it might burst. The pain is ecstatic.
The vision is gone as quickly as it appears. You're kneeling in the field, watching your allies in desperate combat with Bolgir and his minions. What do you do?
When in range, Smoog swings both picks down upon Bolgir.
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con defy danger
My ally needs me, time to halt the spin and flex at the right moment so his blows will glance away from me
Thunk slams his club on his own chest showing how tough he is and how little concerned he is by the nearest skeleton. You not break Thunk scale!
for thunk swings his club at the beast grappling sees as he attempts to shatter is backbone completely
Fssst writhes with pain as he feels his innate being torn away by the immense power of the magic stream. The Skeleton behind him is more than he can manage right now, with his hands around the throat of the Necromancer. His fire-hardened scales will have to be enough to turn the spear point. This heretic is his only priority.
"Die, Worm!" Fssst howls, as he tries to force his foes head into the cascading energies.
Pork lands next to Flung, reverting to his true form as globs of mud drip from his body. Drawing his spear, Pork rushes into the fray once again, spear leading the way as charges towards the spear wielding Skeleton!
"Son of an mangy owlbear!" Flung exclaims when he sees his spear caught in the skeleton’s ribcage. To make matters worse the damned thing was using his own spear to attack the fire dude! Trying to think of what to do next, Flung’s heart nearly jumps out of his chest when the huge vampire bat plops down next to him. He was about to stab it with one of his javelins when it transformed into the druid. "Gah! Don’t do that to me!" he swears at the corpulent druid.
Then an idea came to him. Flung put his javelin back on his back strap and held his shield in front of him. “Follow my lead” he says to those next to him and then breaks out into a sprint, with shield held out in front of him and barrels into the group of skeletons attacking the immolator.
Hoping the grappling skeleton has losened its grip due to damage or destruction, Sees makes another attempt to wiggle free.
Whether undead or inanimate, it would seem Sees' flamboyant clothing is caught in the bones...
"For Gorlaug the Corruptor!!!" Grick screams at the top of his lungs as he charges into the fray dodging skeletons to try to bury his spear into the traitor's back...
And then jabbing at Bolgir with his spear...
Smoog's brain is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
The frenzy of battle was almost more than he could bear.
But two competing thoughts kept vying for his attention.
On one hand he wanted Bolgir to die, painfully.
On the other he needed answers.
---
Why did you torment me for so many years?
Why did you betray us all?
If I kill you I will be avenged.
If I kill you I will never know.
The battlefield has quickly devolved into utter chaos. On one side, the screaming, violent cries of the living kobolds; on the other, silent evil as the skeletons voicelessly try to carry out their master's will.
Smoog abandons his machinery for now; something about that infernal geyser spraying out of the ground is interfering with it. Hefting his mining picks grimly, the blue-scaled kobold charges wildly at Bolgir, who is struggling with Fsst the Immolator. Fsst is struggling wildly to keep his claws around the traitor's throat, screaming in passion as he forces the necromancer back. Bolgir slaps Fsst across the face open-handed, and his magic-enhanced strength rings Fsst's bell momentarily, knocking him backward. Fsst is relentless, however, and he charges again, trying to knock the necromancer off balance! They struggle, teetering on the edge of the geyser, right when Smoog arrives. Swinging his pick dexterously, the miner-turned-avenger kobold opens a deep cut on Bolgir's arm!
Bolgir screams in agony as he draws in more of the geyser's power to himself! His very body is burning now with a white-hot aura of magical energy, and the flesh and scales that are exposed are melting off of him! Before your very eyes, Bolgir's facial scales and flesh are torn from his skull by the whirling magic behind him.
Directing the magic flowing through him, the former kobold leers at you with teeth that can no longer be concealed by lips. Exclaiming in effort, he throws both hands out at Fsst and Smoog! Due to your partial successes, you two, you are temporarily immobilized by negative energy! Let's see a Defy Danger: Wisdom roll to break free of the magical bonds through willpower.
All around their master, the kobold skeletons are gathering. Thunk thumps two of them, destroying the spinal column of the one on top of Sees-Death and knocking away the only remaining skeleton standing from "his" battlegroup. The other 4 kobold skeletons are closing in, having already scored a nasty stab on Fsst as he struggles with Bolgir! (By the way Fsst, take another 1D6+2 damage from being stabbed in the back!)
Into this fray charges Flung, with the spear-wielding Pork close behind. Screaming a battlecry that inspires all who hear it, Flung sends the kobold skeletons' formation into disarray! His shield CLANGS, his spear STABS, and Pork sweeps the leg! Despite never officially having fought side by side before, the druid and the skirmisher cooperate well together, as all kobolds have an instinct to do.
Pork almost takes a nasty swipe from the scimitar held by one of the kobolds, but the swing is blocked by Flung's spear. Through their ferocious dual attack, the skeletons are cleared away from those kobolds battling Bolgir. The necromancer will receive no aid from his constructs this day! The 4 skeletons fan out in a semi-circle around the geyser, looking for an opening to stab at the ones attacking their master.
"FOR GORLAUG THE CORRUPTOR!" you hear coming from the dry lips of your junior shaman of your tribe. Fresh with righteous zeal from just having spoken with his God face-to-face, the Shaman fights with a passion and forcefulness that even impresses Thunk and Flung when they notice it.
Somersaulting over the kobolds that block his way without losing any forward momentum, Grick charges in, spear-first. He shoulders his way through the melee and his spear hits home, stabbing Bolgir in the shoulder! Despite his skull-like face, he still seems to feel pain - in great amounts. Blood only flows out of the wound sluggishly, though, looking...partially coagulated.
Bolgir staggers backward after he is stabbed. He wavers on the edge, negative energy from the geyser washing over him. Where the energy touches his scales, they mottle and turn blacker, just like what happened to Fsst when the geyser stole some of his soul away. An unending scream issues forth from his bone-jaws, his head staring up at the uncaring sky overhead as the geyser consumes his body. He barely seems to be still conscious, but the magic continues to pour into him like a firehose aimed at a teacup - What do you do?
Ah time to give my allies the chance they need to deal with this fool, Let all the skeletons try to take me on
hmmm in case they didnt get it
What Are You Waiting For?
When you cry out a challenge to your enemies, roll+Con.
✴On a 10+ they treat you as the most obvious threat to be dealt with and ignore your companions, take +2 damage ongoing against them.
✴On a 7–9 only a few (the weakest or most foolhardy among them) fall prey to your taunting.
"Answers" winning out, Smoog stabs Necro-Bolgir in the arm hoping to maim and incapacitate him. Just as he winds up for another swing his body freezes. Confined as if made of stone himself, Smoog urges his joints to move thru willpower alone.
---
So strong is Smoog's unshakable need to win that he immediately bursts the necromantic bonds that laced his arms and legs together. His picks latch on to Bolgir and he puts all his weight behind pulling!
Everyone can see Smoog struggling to pull Bolgir free of the geyser! He's almost got him out, but the magic keeps the necromancer rooted in the spot! You may not be able to get him out of there by yourself!
Smoog, your picks are caught in Bolgir's arm-bone. You give a mighty heave and try to pull him out of the magic. Defy danger!
As the spear blade tears into Fssst's spine, he finds himself locked in place by the dark power of the necromancer. His body helpless, he relies on the only weapon left to him, the fickle flames of the mind.
Hoping the scalding heat of the cascading magic is enough, he thrusts his will into the magical font and attempts to bring forth a gout of flame to blast Bolgir over the brink!
Whenever Sees breaks free, she takes a beat to survey the battle, and criticize her companions. "Fssst! Death is only going to make it harder to settle our accounts! Heed this wisdom, uttered by the ancestral arch-shaman Sig-sug Froyd: The ego refuses to be distressed by the provocations of reality, to let itself be compelled to suffer. It insists that it cannot be affected by the traumas of the external world; it shows, in fact, that such traumas are no more than occasions for it to gain pleasure."
As she makes her speech, Sees is filled with an uneasy feeling, as if she cared who here died, and wished to do her pert to reduce that number. Her voice gains an orator's breadth and timbre. Not sure what she is doing, she clears the short distance between Thunk and herself, and takes a feral stance, claws and teeth bared. She continues to orate, pacing and trading blows with the skeletons.
"You have lost Bolgir! Give up and Gorlaug may have mercy on you.
Defy him further and... well... spurned Gods aren't nice I hear."
---
Smoog strains with all his might, courage and determination.
His claws scrape the ground for purchase.
His arms ache with desperation.
With a burst of inspiration, Smoog employs a leverage technique miners use to move large rocks.
He slides his feet into Bolgir's as an anchor point and lays out backwards and low hoping the change in momentum tips the scale in his favor...
---
Grick tries to use his spear as a lever to help lift Bolgir free of the flow of magic...
Flung grabs Smoog by the waist and tugs him (and Bolgir) away from the geyser of magic with all of his might.
A terrifying howl tears through the air, and anyone looking up would see what, at first glance, looks very much like a small dragon approaching at breakneck speeds from the opposite side of the geyser.
The blur of white angles itself towards Bolgir, dropping from the skies like a thunderbolt. The beast's path brushes against the geyser before it crashes bodily into Bolgir, as well as Smoog, Grick, Flung, and Fsst.
Things are looking grim for the kobolds, for even as the skin and scales are sloughed off of Bolgir's screaming form, his magical and physical strength seems to grow. Feeding on the dead necro-dragon's life energy was like a paper bag trying to contain a storm - incredible power was at Bolgir's command, but his frail body couldn't contain its full potency.
RRraaaagh! his scream rips from his fleshless throat, the sound produced by magic itself, as the wild-eyed kobold thrusts Smoog into the geyser. Flung is close behind, falling end over end through the uprush of power. Grick is seized by the throat by a tendril of the growing power at Bolgir's command.
To Sees-Death, what is happening is beyond comprehension. Kobolds are being lifted and tossed around like rag dolls by unseen forces that cannot be stopped. Fsst is rallied by your words, but he is amidst the tumult as well!
The roaring sound of the geyser is cut when a scream of primal fury rips through the air. Hegh, the most junior and least important of Gorlaug's Honor Guard, has magically sprouted wings and has dove through the geyser to attack Bolgir.
Bolgir is knocked clear of the geyser! The now-skeletal kobold, wrapped in tatters, flies end over end and lands not far from Sees-Death. The body is unmoving, and smoking slightly.
Before you all can stagger out of the geyser, reduce your max HP by 1d8. You can feel your souls being drawn out of you. Even Hegh, the self-anointed guardian of Gorlaug, can feel the power draining him rather than empowering him. The geyser of energy bends in midair as it begins to twist in Bolgir's direction... What do you all do?
Hegh takes a moment to survey the scene, watching the power continue to flow towards Bolgir. Only one thing to do ...
Hegh charges Bolgir's fallen body and attempts to carry him away from the geyser as fast and far as possible.
Hegh, you regather yourself from the traumatic dunking in the magical geyser and charge the traitor again, your arms reaching out to grab him and carry him off. Your aim is true, and your hands are nearly around the aspirant necromancer's throat when he disappears. There's a brief flash that emanates from within the kobold's bones, and when it fades, he is lying facedown on the ground no more. There's still an indentation in the grass from where he just was, but he's seemingly completely gone.
The moment this happens, the magic animating the kobold skeletons ceases and they shatter apart into bone-dust. The geyser stops bending in the necromancer's direction.
Without Bolgir the conduit to focus the power, the geyser's magic sprays in all directions like a fountain. Those kobolds standing near enough to it (so, everyone) can hear a sound not unlike the exhalation of Gorlaug's breath, and can feel a great lightness in their chests as the newly-renewed geyser's magic washes over them. As the only true loyalists to the dragon remaining, the geyser recognizes you as Gorlaug's thralls and empowers you once more. After only a few joyous moments, the geyser's presence is exhausted and the magic ebbs away once more; leaving you all changed.
Anyone who has lost maximum HP can feel some measure of vitality returned to them. Although you don't feel the same, it's not as if a large piece of your soul is missing anymore. Gain 1d8 maximum HP.
All of you, meanwhile, instantly gain a level without need for downtime. The latent power, the parts of himself that Gorlaug infused into the very swamp, now fill your lungs with fresh air and add to your mastery.
Let's see some loot rolls. From my other campaign:
Looting:
When you survive a pitched battle and there are spoils to be had, roll +Wis. On a 10+, you find a mixture of coins, consumables, a weapon, or armor, at GM discretion using secret rolls on a loot table. On a 7-9, you find something, but it's less valuable. If you fail, you just find 1d6 currency and 1 XP.
Fssst begins to consider that perhaps, maybe, feeding the insane necromancer more power was not the most ideal tactical choice in moment. That geyser, it held part of Fssst's soul. The souls of these new allies. Also, it seemed, the soul of his GOD. To most of these, Fsst held no claim. To his own soul, though, and to the soul of his god, he might be able to affect some use. Still held in the necromantic grip of this foul and blasted creature, he inhaled, breathing life to his internal flame, calling like to like.
The heavy beat of his cold lizard heart, enkindled by magic, flame, and fanatical fervor. Fssst tries to latch onto the passing energy with his very soul and wrench it from Bolgir's grasp.
Bewildered and on the edge of hysteria, Sees shuffles through the bones and scraps of cloth, looking for answers.
Flung feels like he has gone a few rounds with a randy troll - totally wrung out, but then also strangely invigorated and a little wiser; as if he had lived a full year in just the briefest of moments.
While trying to gather his wits, looking dazedly at the other kobalds around him, he notices something gleaming in the grime "Ooh!" he exclaims - "What's this?"
Further digging finds a purse with several coins. Flung looks over the shoulder to make sure no one else is watching and secrets the purse in his kilt.
Hegh's wings meld back into his body, but the draconic scales covering his hide remain.
As he changes, he looks around as if he has lost something, then notices a black kobold approaching the group at a sprint from the direction that Hegh first appeared, carrying a large shield. The kobold stops at Hegh's side, head held low. "You are late, Shieldbearer."
Hegh tilts his head, not unlike a dog at the sound of a whistle. He pauses a moment, nods, and whispers, "As you wish, oh terrible one."
Hegh approaches Flung and kneels, head bowed. Shieldbearer follows suit. "Gorlaug's Chosen One, our sword and shield are yours."
Smoog, you can see with your enhanced goggles that the geysers of magic that were erupting all over the swamplands have subsided, now that the power has found a vessel - namely, all of you. Behind you, the volcano continues to ooze lava from its brown crown, like the bleeding skull of a dethroned monarch. It is difficult to imagine Moontower Mountain ever returning to its former glory...especially with the decapitated head of Gorlaug in that damned paladin's possession as a trophy.
Fsst, I'll take your wis roll as a Loot roll since it uses the same modifier. So far you and Hegh find semi-valuable stuff.
Fsst finds 1d6+10 coins and an acorn figurine made out of pewter.
Hegh finds 1d6+10 coins and a bowler hat.
To everyone: Identifying a magic item in Dungeon World is a simple Spout Lore roll (2d6+Int). Wizards can identify magic items simply by holding them. Some magic items will activate by themselves, and you can figure out based on that what they do. As with everything, you can always experiment to see what they do.
Sees' breath catches in her throat. "Gourlaug's breath, is that-?" She crosses the bone-littered battlfield to Fssst. Her hands go to the acorn figurine, and stop just short of touching it. "Where did you find that, Fssst? That's- I'm sure I saw that in the hands of an adventurer--one that Gorlaug crushed quite easily. The effects of the object are escaping me, but they're just at the tips of my tongue..."
Grick staggers as the negative effects of the geyser hit home.
However, a sudden rush of energy refreshes him just as things seem worse.
The rapid changes are almost too much for the shaman and suddenly dizzy he sits/falls amongst the bones of the skeletons. While trying to pull himself together he notices something among the bones...
Smoog sails thru the soul-sucking geyser flailing and ...
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He lands with a thud in the mossy grass and stares up into space...
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I'm dead. I must be dead. How did Bolgir gain so much power and I am still just... Smoog? I thought we could beat him. We were beating him. But he got stronger and stronger while I stayed Smoog. I have always been just Smoog. Others are powerful. Others are special. But I am just Smoog.
-
Smoog rolls over and looks around seeing his comrades gathering. Bolgir is gone. Skeletons are gone. The geyser tendrils are just now receding back into the earth. And then suddenly a wave passes over him and strength, vitality and... power infuse him. Smoog sucks in a quick breath of excitement and surprise.
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Is this what HEROES feel like? Maybe I can be a hero. Maybe I can be special.
-
Grick finds 1d6+10 coins and an ornate walking-stick.
Smoog heads over to join the ragtag group of kobold survivors. Halfway there he trips on a pile of bones and rubble. Cursing at the stones Smoog sees something uncovered by his kicking...
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