Ammonis pinches a bit of ground mica from a pouch and scatters it while whispering the spidery language of magic. He points at the Lich. A blinding cloud envelops the lich and its minions.
Seeing a fiery doom coming for he and his companions, Agyen desperately tries to escape it, drawing upon his strange connection to time itself. But to no avail.
To have any hope of escape, we must slay the lich. And Ulave is well-placed to do so.
In a desperate last move, Agyen advances through the now-vanishing flames, and touches Ulave's bow for the briefest of moments.
May my next life be more successful than my last. If my spirit is not devoured here and now.
Gloomy is what may be Agyen's last thought.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Rurik hurls himself aside with a cry of startled panic as the world about him erupts in flame. He comes up to his knees, eyes wild, flesh blistered and at Ammonis' shout of warning his heart does its level best to claw its way up his throat and out his mouth.
Yet then Ulave unleashes his wave of arrows upon the distant fiend, and in that volley of sanctified death Rurik finds hope, clawing his way up to his feet to level his hand once more, clutching at his ring and summoning from his depths another flash of coruscating white magic.
To the hound archon Rurik gives a mental command, and the heavenly creature steps forward so that more of their companions falls under his protection, as well as reaching out to touch Ulave and cast Aid upon the paladin.
With a reassuring calm and focus of mind, Ulave musters his Lady's might and rapidly unleashes five arrows kissed with divine fire. They zip through the air with incredible speed, bound straight for the lich...
...yet just as it is certain they will strike home, a supernaturally strong current of wind gusts up just before the lich, sending Ulave's arrows into the sky!
The dwarven thane seems burned from the spell, but few things seem more broken and wounded than his spirit. Gesturing for the conscious dwarves to take care of the wounded ones, he cries across the battlefield, "Wha's yer naem, fiend? Ye' who claems tae be dwarf, but walks after yer rest!"
The winds tear away Ulave's righteous barrage, as the dwarf nods grimly at his comrades. "I wouldnae ask ye tae stay tae yer doom, friends, and ye're nae good deid.", he solemnly states. "Ye've done mer than yer share fer ma clan, an' I'm glad tae have fought beside ye." Grasping his urgrosh, he crouches down, his face a stern mask.
The Thane is currently at 77/99 HP.
Iyon moved to the south carefully and swings at one of the retreating vampires in mist form. Stay or go, spreading out seems like a good idea for right now...
| 4 people marked this as a favorite. |
Hand outflung, Rurik prepares to unleash a spate of searing light in the direction of the lich, only to pause mere moments before unleashing his spell at the sight of Ulave's arrows being sent spinning into the void.
"What the..."
Squinting, he ponders a dozen possible alternatives as to what could have defended the lich, and then cries out to his companions, his knowledge sure:
"Our foe! He is protected by a spell known as fickle winds!"
Casting aside his own intended spell, Rurik braces himself as if for an impact and instead summons forth a far more complex and difficult sorcery: an attempt to undo the very strands of power woven by the lich about itself in the shape of its whirling, howling aerial protection.
Sweat beading his brow anew, Rurik weaves his fingers through the air as if braiding the very currents, and then flings the spell in the direction of the lich, whispering all the while as if seeking to add power to his creation even as it flies at the enemy and his spell.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Ulave quickly shields himself as a burst of flame erupts in the camp. He screams in agony.
Lich. The doom in Ammonis' voice is palpable. Terrible dark magics it will possess. It is beyond us. Ammonis pockets Fey. Flee ye damn fools. Flee! Ammonis sighs. It was time to play the part. I will try to purchase you a chance. Flee!
A lich? Ulave looks upon the dwarven figure, and knows in his heart that this is true. The moment has come. There is no where to flee but into unending darkness. Stand with the light. He briefly regrets his expended potion of bull's strength, and then regrets wasting his time on his regret. He taps his boots of speed, and calls upon his Lady to smite this lord of darkness. You!! Do not speak of kin, for you are nothing but an abomination and hold no kinship with these dwarves. Ulave aims, and unleashes his Lady's holy wrath upon the lich.
With a reassuring calm and focus of mind, Ulave musters his Lady's might and rapidly unleashes five arrows kissed with divine fire. They zip through the air with incredible speed, bound straight for the lich...
...yet just as it is certain they will strike home, a supernaturally strong current of wind gusts up just before the lich, sending Ulave's arrows into the sky!
At his master’s command, the celestial auroch charges the lich…
...and despite being clawed by the lich’s guardian, the beast of burden slams its gore into the Lich.
Ammonis pinches a bit of ground mica from a pouch and scatters it while whispering the spidery language of magic. He points at the Lich. A blinding cloud envelops the lich and its minions.
Seeing a fiery doom coming for he and his companions, Agyen desperately tries to escape it, drawing upon his strange connection to time itself. But to no avail. To have any hope of escape, we must slay the lich. And Ulave is well-placed to do so. In a desperate last move, Agyen advances through the now-vanishing flames, and touches Ulave's bow for the briefest of moments. May my next life be more successful than my last. If my spirit is not devoured here and now. Gloomy is what may be Agyen's last thought.
To the hound archon Rurik gives a mental command, and the heavenly creature steps forward so that more of their companions falls under his protection, as well as reaching out to touch Ulave and cast Aid upon the paladin.
The dwarven thane seems burned from the spell, but few things seem more broken and wounded than his spirit. Gesturing for the conscious dwarves to take care of the wounded ones, he cries across the battlefield, "Wha's yer naem, fiend? Ye' who claems tae be dwarf, but walks after yer rest!" The winds tear away Ulave's righteous barrage, as the dwarf nods grimly at his comrades. "I wouldnae ask ye tae stay tae yer doom, friends, and ye're nae good deid.", he solemnly states. "Ye've done mer than yer share fer ma clan, an' I'm glad tae have fought beside ye." Grasping his urgrosh, he crouches down, his face a stern mask.
The lich laughs, a grating wheeze of one who gasps for air. ::Know ye weel mah nam, yoong dwarf. It is th' the lonely win' 'at blows thro’ barren trees. It is th' colur ay rain 'at falls upon th' boneyard. It is th' crawlin' ay mortal flesh, noo warm an' supple, 'at first tastes th' kiss ay rot. It is yer undoin', noo 'at ye hae foond whit ye sae desperately seek...::
Iyon moves to the south carefully and swings at one of the retreating vampires in mist form. Stay or go, spreading out seems like a good idea for right now…
The dwarves spread out in an effort to maintain the perimeter against the surrounding enemy. Gorrak kneels beside Glomi to stem his wounds.
Hand outflung, Rurik prepares to unleash a spate of searing light in the direction of the lich, only to pause mere moments before unleashing his spell at the sight of Ulave's arrows being sent spinning into the void. "What the..." Squinting, he ponders a dozen possible alternatives as to what could have defended the lich, and then cries out to his companions, his knowledge sure: "Our foe! He is protected by a spell known as fickle winds!" Casting aside his own intended spell, Rurik braces himself as if for an impact and instead summons forth a far more complex and difficult sorcery: an attempt to undo the very strands of power woven by the lich about itself in the shape of its whirling, howling aerial protection. Sweat beading his brow anew, Rurik weaves his fingers through the air as if braiding the very currents, and then flings the spell in the direction of the lich, whispering all the while as if seeking to add power to his creation even as it flies at the enemy and his spell.
Rurik’s spell hurtles toward the lich, a white arrow piercing the night. In return, the lich raises a hand confidently, producing a countercurrent of his own, one tainted by shadow and the dusky hues of twilight. The two spells collide on the battlefield, sending sparks flying for many feet in all directions. The bones of the slain bask in this light, revealing the mound leading up to the camp to be virtually buried in the skeletons of soldiers once slain in the battle for Tsar, and slain again once called to the service of their undead lord. It is a battle of wills between two potent spellbinders, and the power wielded by the lich is indeed great. Beads if sweat appear on Rurik’s brow. Then, with a roar, his spell breaks through, crashing into the lich as a stone might shatter a window. For a moment, the invisible cyclone surrounding him shimmers, then cracks and fades away into nothingness.
A moment of stunned silence is followed a scream of rage as the lich moves forward...
...and then he extends his jaw wide, far wider than should be possible. A black cloud, swirling with the spectral form of enslaved souls, overtakes the camp, and a terrible, shrill scream prevails that far surpasses the feeble cry of the vargouilles.
The cleric Gorrak clutches his ears as blood begins to drip through his fingers. Glomi and Bereg suddenly freeze as their muscles constrict.
All those caught within the spell must make a Fortitude saving throw. Those who succeed avoid the worst of the effects but are shaken for 2d4 rounds. Those who fail are shaken for 2d4 rounds and roll d% on the following table to determine the individual effect. These effects persist until magically cured.
1-50 deafened
51-75 paralyzed
76-00 both
The vampires continue to regenerate as they close in.
Two vampires surround Iyon but he easily blocks their claw attacks with his weapon.
At the southern end of camp, a vampire charges Bruit, grabbing him by the throat and raking its claws across his back.
Another claws its way up the hill to assault the divine archer, but Ulave’s armor protects him.
Out on the field, the wight plants itself before the aurochs, taking a futile, clumsy swing at the creature. A vampire spawn runs down the hill from the northeast, planting itself before its master as an unliving shield.
___________________________
Agyen: 20/45, shaken
Ammonis: 44/44
Fenris: 77/99, shaken
Iyon: 61/67
Rurik: 45/60, shaken
Ulave: 41/55
Glomi: -19, paralyzed, shaken
Kargesh: -6
Thulbine: -6, shaken
Bereg: -25, paralyzed, shaken
Gorrak: deafened, shaken
Ragnar: shaken
Bruitt: -6
Doomwail! An ancient curse that deafens, paralyses, and instills fear! Ammonis lets a bit of amazement enter his voice.
Mumbling, Ammonis searches about his robes. Ah! Pinching out a glass bead from a hidden cachet Ammonis begins to weave hi...water? That's right. Ammonis spits. right. yes. Guishmakura eieflui!
Meanwhile the auroch attempts to gore the wight which is in its way.
Then, upon the dusty hillside appears a large sphere of blue, and it rolls through the undead!
Ears ringing, head swimming from his contest of wills with the lich, Rurik staggers and only barely manages to keep himself from collapsing. He barely has enough presence of mind to draw forth a scroll of remove paralysis and turn to consider his companions, moving to free the first to fall to the lich's spell and be paralyzed.
The hound archon then moves to touch Lyon, casting aid on him as he does so.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
In disbelief, Ulave watched as his arrows flew up and away from the lich into the night sky. Suddenly the air was filled with a harsh wailing like the scraping of stones, coming down upon them like an avalanche. Ulave clasped his ears and closed his eyes, grimacing in agony. Almost it seemed that he would succumb to the terror, and yet, instead when he opened his eyes he found himself sitting by a campfire with his old master Galin, who was skinning a hare, and telling Ulave an old tale about how Jack the Careless had almost bested death's own ferryman in a game of not quite second chances.
Boy, few men get as many second chances as did Jack miss. Don't dawdle when it's doin' that is wantin'.
Yes, sir... said a young Ulave. But then both were gone.
Unaware of the dramatic contest of skill and power between Rurik and the dread lich, Ulave lets fly another barrage of missiles, a last attempt before preparing himself to charge down the hill with his sabre. The flaming arrows sail swiftly through the air, leaving a trail of glittering sparkles slowly drifting down and dissipating into the dark earth.
Expending last use of haste from Boots of Speed for the day. Smite Evil is still in effect on the lich.
1st Attack : +7 BAB + 5 Dex + 1 Size + 1 Bow - 2 ManyShot + 1 haste + 5 CharismaSmite + 1 ptblank = +19
1st Attack Arrow 1 Damage: 1d6 arrow + 1 Bow + 1d6 firedamage + 1 ptblank + 14 LevlSmite + 1 UndeadSlayerTrait +2 sacred damage
1st Attack Arrow 2 Damage: 1d6 arrow + 1 Bow + 1d6 firedamage + 1 ptblank + 14 LevlSmite + 1 UndeadSlayerTrait +2 sacred damage
Rapid Attack: +7 BAB + 5 Dex + 1 Size + 1 Bow - 2 ManyShot + 1 haste + 5 CharismaSmite + 1 ptblank = +19
Rapid Attack Damage: 1d6 arrow + 1 Bow + 1d6 firedamage + 1 ptblank + 14 LevlSmite + 1 UndeadSlayerTrait +2 sacred damage
2cd Attack: +2 BAB + 5 Dex + 1 Size + 1 Bow -2 ManyShot +1 haste + 1 ptblnk + 5 CharismaSmite = +14
2cd Attack Damage: 1d6 arrow + 1 Bow + 1d6 firedamage + 1 ptblank + 14 LevlSmite + 1 UndeadSlayerTrait +2 sacred damage
Haste Attack : +7 BAB + 5 Dex + 1 Size + 1 Bow - 2 ManyShot + 1 haste + 5 CharismaSmite + 1 ptblank = +19
Haste Attack Arrow 1 Damage: 1d6 arrow + 1 Bow + 1d6 firedamage + 1 ptblank + 14 LevlSmite + 1 UndeadSlayerTrait +2 sacred damage
The Thane stares at the lich, before shaking his head. "Ye're nae dwarf, that's true. And as tae who ye were, is better fergotton.", he responds, almost too quiet after the roar from beyong the grave. Still uneager to charge, he spots a vampire standing next to Ulave. "I've got ye, wee wun! Dunnae worre!", he roars, as he stampedes past the group. Running past Agyen, he spins around with his urgrosh, the blade lodging itself into the vampire spawn's shoulder. "We'll make ye intae black puddin' yet, bloodsuckar!"
In shock, Agyen feels his ears nearly rupture from the sheer force of the lich's aural assault. And then can hear nothing more over the humming of his own damaged eardrums.
He has a plan though, which does not require him to hear.
Just them.
"I WILL OPEN A GAP IN THE MONSTER'S DEFENSES! STRIKE IT WITH YOUR MOST POTENT MAGIC!"
Agyen cannot hear himself. He cannot risk his companions misunderstanding him. So he shouts.
And flickers.
You “blink” quickly back and forth between the Material Plane and the Ethereal Plane and look as though you’re winking in and out of reality at random. Blink has several effects, as follows.
Physical attacks against you have a 50% miss chance, and the Blind-Fight feat doesn’t help opponents, since you’re ethereal and not merely invisible. If the attack is capable of striking ethereal creatures, the miss chance is only 20% (for concealment).
If the attacker can see invisible creatures, the miss chance is also only 20%. (For an attacker who can both see and strike ethereal creatures, there is no miss chance.) Likewise, your own attacks have a 20% miss chance, since you sometimes go ethereal just as you are about to strike.
Any individually targeted spell has a 50% chance to fail against you while you’re blinking unless your attacker can target invisible, ethereal creatures. Your own spells have a 20% chance to activate just as you go ethereal, in which case they typically do not affect the Material Plane (but they might affect targets on the Ethereal Plane).
While blinking, you take only half damage from area attacks (but full damage from those that extend onto the Ethereal Plane). Although you are only partially visible, you are not considered invisible and targets retain their Dexterity bonus to AC against your attacks. You do receive a +2 bonus on attack rolls made against enemies that cannot see invisible creatures.
You take only half damage from falling, since you fall only while you are material.
While blinking, you can step through (but not see through) solid objects. For each 5 feet of solid material you walk through, there is a 50% chance that you become material. If this occurs, you are shunted off to the nearest open space and take 1d6 points of damage per 5 feet so traveled.
Since you spend about half your time on the Ethereal Plane, you can see and even attack ethereal creatures. You interact with ethereal creatures roughly the same way you interact with material ones.
An ethereal creature is invisible, incorporeal, and capable of moving in any direction, even up or down. As an incorporeal creature, you can move through solid objects, including living creatures.
An ethereal creature can see and hear the Material Plane, but everything looks gray and insubstantial. Sight and hearing on the Material Plane are limited to 60 feet.
Force effects and abjurations affect you normally. Their effects extend onto the Ethereal Plane from the Material Plane, but not vice versa. An ethereal creature can’t attack material creatures, and spells you cast while ethereal affect only other ethereal things. Certain material creatures or objects have attacks or effects that work on the Ethereal Plane. Treat other ethereal creatures and objects as material.
He then moves down the slope, to threaten the un-threatenable.
Misfortune (Ex): At 1st level, as an immediate action, you can force a creature within 30 feet to reroll any one d20 roll that it has just made before the results of the roll are revealed. The creature must take the result of the reroll, even if it’s worse than the original roll. Once a creature has suffered from your misfortune, it cannot be the target of this revelation again for 1 day.
”Doomwail! An ancient curse that deafens, paralyses, and instills fear!” Ammonis lets a bit of amazement enter his voice. Mumbling, he searches about his robes. ”Ah!” Pinching out a glass bead from a hidden cachet Ammonis begins to weave hi… water? That's right. Ammonis spits. right. yes. ”Guishmakura eieflui!” Meanwhile the auroch attempts to gore the wight which is in its way. Then, upon the dusty hillside appears a large sphere of blue, and it rolls through the undead!
fail, immune
fail, engulfed
fail, immune
fail, engulfed
The aqueous orb crashes into the lich and the vampire and, although they do not suffer from the lack of air , cannot escape the magically churning waters. Swept up into the rolling current, they are unceremoniously carried along inside it as it also engulfs the blinded wight, traveling around the aurochs on its way toward Ammonis’s conjured pit.
Ears ringing, head swimming from his contest of wills with the lich, Rurik staggers and only barely manages to keep himself from collapsing. He barely has enough presence of mind to draw forth a scroll of remove paralysis and turn to consider his companions, moving to free the first to fall to the lich's spell and be paralyzed.
The hound, now deafened from the lich’s spell, then moves to touch Lyon…
miss
...casting aid on him as he does so.
In disbelief, Ulave watched as his arrows flew up and away from the lich into the night sky. Suddenly the air was filled with a harsh wailing like the scraping of stones, coming down upon them like an avalanche. Ulave clasped his ears and closed his eyes, grimacing in agony. Almost it seemed that he would succumb to the terror, and yet, instead when he opened his eyes he found himself sitting by a campfire with his old master Galin, who was skinning a hare, and telling Ulave an old tale about how Jack the Careless had almost bested death's own ferryman in a game of not quite second chances. ”Boy, few men get as many second chances as did Jack miss. Don't dawdle when it's doin' that is wantin'.” ”Yes, sir…” said a young Ulave. But then both were gone. Unaware of the dramatic contest of skill and power between Rurik and the dread lich, Ulave lets fly another barrage of missiles, a last attempt before preparing himself to charge down the hill with his sabre. The flaming arrows sail swiftly through the air, leaving a trail of glittering sparkles slowly drifting down and dissipating into the dark earth.
hit
hit
hit
Four of Ulave’s arrows torpedo into the aqueous orb. Within, a series of successive flashes of light signal the detonation of divine power. The orb explodes in a geyser of steam, an unearthly howl rising into the night. Within the geyser, a sinister face appears, its angry expression melting into one of great sadness before dissipating into the sky above.
The vampires cry out in anguish, retreating back out onto the plain from whence they crawled. The wights crumble into dust.
___________________________
Agyen: 20/45, shaken
Ammonis: 44/44
Fenris: 77/99, shaken
Iyon: (8 temp) 61/67
Rurik: 45/60, shaken
Ulave: (14 temp) 41/55
Glomi: -19, paralyzed, shaken
Kargesh: -6
Thulbine: -6, shaken
Bereg: -25, paralyzed, shaken
Gorrak: deafened, shaken
Ragnar: shaken
Bruit: -6
A few moments later, the magical paralysis and deafness fades.
At the last moment, Agyen gazes on the sight of the lich's destruction. And refocuses his efforts on destroying the vampiric spawn, through the medium of the undead slayer's bow, which he gently taps.
He draws and fires his light crossbow at the nearest back of vampire spawn.
Every little helps. Perhaps.
There is hope, but there are deeds that yet must be done. We must destroy the vampires permanently. Does anyone know how? And we must find and destroy the phylactery of the lich!
"We have tested our luck and mettle enough or one night, let's not test it again and pay the price. In morning's light we may be able to follow the tracks the liche came here by to it's lair." Iyon keeps his weapons ready. "Feel free to shoot at them while they flee but they move swiftly... besides I've always considered vampire hunting best done in the morning."
"Agreed," says Rurik, slumping down to the ground in disbelief at their accomplishment. "Well done, all. Even if we die tomorrow, we'll die heroes. To have killed such an evil... it beggars the mind. Well done, in truth."
And unless anyone prevents him, Rurik crawls back into his tent and passes out into a profound and dreamless sleep, his mind and soul utterly exhausted from the sheer amount of magic he had cast over the course of the night.
"I will stand watch. I need only two hours of sleep, and I can wait to take them. I agree about hunting vampires in the sunlight."
Ammonis directs the aqueous orb to bring over the body of the Lich up the hill, after which it spits the Lich's body to the ground. The Lich is not destroyed, you know. Might as well finish the job.
As Ulave listens, he steps forward and draws his bow and sends a flight of arrows as a parting shot after one of the retreating vampires. Satisfied, he nods his head.
Vampires heal quickly, I have been told, and it is not yet dawn. Would you have them come at us in our sleep? And yet it is the lich that I worry most about; for is it not said that its phylactery must be destroyed else it come back to seek revenge?
Ulave looks craftily at his companions. And did not the Usurer say he would pay handsomely for this lich's phylactery? Some ten-thousand gold coins?
"Aye and he'll likely give it to us in a fist full of twisted iron. I think the vampires nerve will be weaker until their master returns. If I were a lich I would put the phylactery in some hidden vault not keep it on my person."
"Whether the Usurer desires it... if he would pass coin very well but let it be broken and beyond aid to the undead. I can not help but wonder would someone want it as proof of a bounty or in hopes of unlocking its secrets."
Ulave’s arrows strike down two vampires as they attempt to flee into the darkness. The remaining two disappear into the Dead Fields…
Once Ammonis delivers the dead lich’s body, it’s immediately clear he is, or was, a dwarf. He wears an old but ornate golden crown upon his head, the metal masterfully worked with an intricate knot design. His face has been ravaged by time and the trials of undeath, and his left eye is missing, replaced by an iron orb inset in the socket. Still, it is clear that once he bore the noble visage of royalty. Fenris, Gorrak, and the remaining Stoneheart dwarves kneel in silence, offering prayers for their lost king.
Ulave’s detect evil ability determines that Kroma’s phylactery is actually the iron orb resting inside his eye. Cast of solid iron, it will take an offering of great strength to destroy…
”Thes evil ma’ be destroyed,” growls Gorrak. ”Ah beg ye, lit us be rid ay it. Le' Kroma tae rest 'n peace.”
Rurik waves his hands over the corpse with a shudder.
The cloak is a cloak of resistance +2, the armor is a +3 adamantine breastplate, and the flail is a +2 unholy wounding heavy flail.
Rurik gazes about at the others. "What say you? I know the Usurer would pay handsomely for this eye, but I don't trust that creature further than I can throw him. Which isn't very far. The idea of giving him a lich's soul to do with as he will... I fear we'd be unleashing a greater evil upon the land than even this heinous creature which lies at our feet."
He wipes his hands and grimaces. "No. I say we destroy it and be certain that this evil is gone forevermore. What say you?"
"Let us destroy it... but does anyone even know how we would go about that?"
That is a heavily magicked flail. Impressively evil. No doubt it would command a fortune in certain quarters. Certain religious orders might be willing to pay just to ensure its destruction. Be wary of touching it, I shouldn't wonder if it carries a curse.
Turning to the phylactery. Simply crushing it is sufficient. It does look hard...maybe hit it with something we don't mind bent up a bit..like an evil flail?
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Iyon’s tetsubo cracks repeatedly against the solid iron core of Kroma’s phylactery. On the fifth strike it breaks, and the body is immediately immolated by a holy fire the color of mithral. The searing flames burn away the centuries-old corruption that has consumed the old dwarf, leaving only his equipment and gleaming smooth bones with a gray-bearded skull.
The flail glistens like new, having been purified by the flames.
Fenris and his dwarves offer you the remaining items for your help in destroying the evil that imprisoned Kroma, claiming only the bones and crown. These they bind reverently in silken wraps to bear them home for interment.
”Ye hae dain us reit.” says Fenris. ”Th' dwarves ay Stoneheart Ment will ne'er forgit th' heroes fa helped us brin' Kroma haem.”
Ulave bows his head.
I am tired, and I must pray and contemplate upon what I have seen this day. Nonetheless, I am afraid that the deeds done today reverberates across the land. We may not be able to stay here unmolested.
If there is the Lord of Tsar has returned, as my Master fears, then this lich may be missed as a valued lieutenant.
I say that we depart as soon as we can, find the road. There we can rest a while.
Ulave begins preparations to leave.
Ulave. Really now. Just stop. The creepy things in Tsar will stay in Tsar, Ulave. You are making up stuff without any evidence of a real threat from Tsar. Truly, I cannot imagine a safer place in all the dead plains at this moment than right here, surrounded with allies on the battlefield of a great victory. Ammonis squints. Besides, I cannot make another hut like this until I sleep, and I'm not planning to die by melting in acid.
Ammonis casts another look about the plains. I will set an alarm around the perimeter. Once he does so, he lays down again.
"Resting with daylight to ward off the return of the vampires would seem wise to me. We strike out again in the late afternoon once those with mystical abilities have been restored. Perhaps we can find this things lair... the idea of being melted by acid has swayed me."
Ulave sighs. Perhaps you are right. It has been a sleepless night of horrors and wonders; my mind is heavy with the weight of it.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Agyen stares at the iron orb inside the dwarven skull.
"I am trying to ascertain if even carrying such a thing would expose the bearer to mind-affecting magics."
Peering longer, he says:
"Regardless, I do not believe it is worth the risk. We have a prime chance to destroy this lich for good - in more than one sense of the word.", he adds with the thinnest of smiles.
"Let us remain here. If an enemy is crazed enough to come for us with a literal carpet of destroyed creatures on this hill, then they would come for us regardless. Once Ammonis is rested, I shall sleep and regain my store of expended power."
Ulave applies Cure Light Wounds to himself.
| 5 people marked this as a favorite. |
The beast licked its lips. The pleasant smell of fresh meat was almost intoxicating, even if it was buried under an acrid, unliving scent. A growl startled its two pack members. The beast was the alpha, the leader. The scars to show it, and the bite to prove it. Nose on the scent, it followed the sweet taste of two-legs, letting the wind rush past its ears and legs, quiet and deadly.
The scent was growing thicker and thicker. Under a fallen, gnarled tree, out on the open, there it was, the two-legs. A low, guttural growl at its pack indicated that they should be quiet. Their bodies, lean by the hunt, the run, and the scarce prey, stood close to the ground, each step methodical, perfect in its silence. The two-legs was visible, a tiny one, but still a juicy morsel. A few more steps and...
*click*
The beast looked down. Had it stepped on a twig? Unusual for a creature as quiet as it, but inconsequential. Though twigs didn't sound like that.
*click* - *click*
Its two pack members seemed to have stepped on sticks as well. No matter. The two-legs hadn't moved, as deaf and blind as it were. The beast's mouth began drooling as it stepped forward, mouth already tasting the sweet flesh and the warm blood. Moving one paw upwards...
*clink*
The pain was searing, as if a thousand wasps and a thousand fangs tore through its belly and its legs. It started slipping into the darkness, until it felt a burning feel on its hurting neck, as if a vice clamping around the wound. It struggled to open its lone intact eye, just to see the two-leg leaning over it, a gleaming, footlong claw in its hand. The two-legs' manic eyes were gargantuan, as its horrid, blunt-toothed maw snapped open. The claw darted forward, and the beast sunk in the forever silence.
Eddwick rubbed his hands in the sands in an attempt to clear out the caked blood. Staring at his minefield, he sighed. The mangled, dismembered corpses of the predators were strewn over the entire field, a foreleg with a missing paw landing next to his bloodsoaked sleeping roll. The sands were charred with red and black and shrapnels of iron, as Eddwick's grin flashed, the light of the burning mongrel reflecting off his eyes. Sniffing deeply the smell of burning hair and charred flesh, he put his hands on his waist. "I don't remember inviting you to my little camp!", a giggle left the gnome's throat as he set onto dressing up for the next day.
Seeing Ulave attend to his wounds, it occurs to Agyen that he should expend what power he has remaining and see to his own.
After all, it would not do for a sentry to be struck down easily., he thinks to himself, wrapping his new cloak a little more tightly around his frame.
Rurik spends some time examining his new breastplate, marveling at its peerless construction, but exhaustion dims his fascination. Struggling out of his chain shirt, he stows it in his pack. Then, after a quick spell to clean the odor and dirt from the interior of the breastplate, he dons it, takes deep breath within its new confines, settles down to sleep.
Gorrak spends the remainder of his blessings for the day to tend to Bereg, the most wounded of the dwarves. They collect their essentials, weapons, rations, water, and gear, and depart the mound, bound for the Camp and then on to the Stoneheart Mountains.
Now alone atop the isolated hill, surrounded by the brittle bones and the barren Fields of the Dead, the group settles down for an extended rest to recoup their energies and magics...
Screams fill the air as two monsters appear in the sky overhead, soaring without wings. They are dust-covered creatures with decaying flesh pulled tight over humanoid frames. Their teeth are pointed fangs and their hands end in wicked, dirt-covered claws. Trails of bone dust follow in their wake as they circle about above their newfound meal…
___________________________
Agyen: 45/45
Ammonis: 44/44
Iyon: 61/67
Rurik: 45/60
Ulave: 52/55
(no surprise round)
Garn, I hate when Ulave is right. Ghoul Dusters!
The dream had been a surprisingly pleasant one, full of children playing on the green grass in the bright sun at the country fair. He had just ran off with a bunch of firecrackers that had, it seemed, been left forgotten in an old wheelbarrow, when BANG! BANG! the firecrackers went off in his hands. He raised them up to stare at them. Blistered, and mutilated, the skin in his palm had split horrendously wide, in what would become a scar he still carries to this day...
Ulave wakes, startled and disoriented. Squinting through blurry and crusty eyes, he sees forms of horror in the skies. Where did I put my bow? He looks around wildly, panic rising in his throat. There! Ulave stumbles and crawls over to where the bow had fallen over in the night. He reaches out to grasp hold of it, and sees no scar on his palm. He stares at it stupidly for a second. It was just a dream. Just a dream.
Rurik rolls out of his bedroll with a groan, so tired that he doesn't even feel fear, rising to his aching legs to sight up at the sky and stare dull-eyed at the ghastly monsters.
"There is no rest, no reprieve, no surcease from torment in this life..."
The words are but a whisper, and quickly replaced by a more vigorous incantation as he draws from his reservoir of power to summon allies to their aid.
The sky above the new menace darkens with great furred beasts whose leathery wing spans are easily four yards wide; they screech as they dive down to impact the ghoul to the north west.
Iyon draws a Chakram and hurls it at the flying ghouls things... "How do I kill them effectively?"