All of you are looking at each other, but without any idea on where you are, nor how you got here. Or for that matter any memories of the prequel, and what happened after
All around you is a wall of sickly yellow fog, tumbling through the alley canyon of crumbling gray bricks like some jaundiced flash flood. Ahead, the unfamiliar alley splits, curving to the left and right. Behind, from the silent swell of mist, emanates the sound of footsteps – slow, but somehow keeping pace with the careening hungry wave.
Caraid init: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Garrosh init: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Piotr init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Rozalia init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Kilarra init: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
Auryl init: 1d20 ⇒ 13
init: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19
No map given for this, book told me to run theatre of the mind style.
Rozalia and Kilarra feel free to state your actions though everyone just feel free to talk.
But we know each other, right? Or...?
Rozalia blinks and puts a hand to her head, feeling a pounding pressure behind her eyes. "Wh-what? Where are we? How did we get here?"
She murmurs a spell and her eyes glow faintly.
Cast detect magic.
The fire-kissed Ustalavian cringes inwardly when the sound of footsteps reaches him. His voice is rife with panic and paranoia when he speaks. "No, no, no. Pharasma, listen, the noose was not to be my end, please, don't send a lynch mob after me now ..."
But something doesn't make sense. The people around him, they don't strike him as brigands and bandits. Who are they? The answer dances on the tip of his tongue, but it remains just out of reach.
"Oh what in the ever pleasant hells did I---" Piotr looks around seeing the strange but somehow familiar people. And shuts up, confusion settling into his eyes along with more than a bit of suspicion, head tilted to the side as if he is listening to something only he can hear, and agreeing.
Garrosh growls and backs away from the others, looking around with feral eyes. His hand goes instinctively to the symbol around his neck, offering him some comfort.
Mort, are we geared?
Garrosh starts petting himself over for his gear...
what?: 1d4 ⇒ 3
Garrosh finds a masterwork composite longbow (str+2), iron holy symbol of Sword crossed with wing on his neck and a cold iron morning star. And nothing else except his clothes.
Conveniently enough, no arrows ^^
"I DON'T KNOW!" barked the thick shouldered man, anger and panic shifting back and forth on his face. His right hand twitching violently, until his other grabbed it and willed it into submission. "We'll find out, I promise." his voice trying to be gentle.
Even though those statements could have been directed to Rozalia, it is obvious that they were not. He sighes as he stands, finally directing his gaze to her and answering much the same, as he did to No One. "I have no idea. But we need to find out. Now."
Piotr reaches for...
What items does Piotr have on him?
Conveniently enough, no arrows ^^
Shame on you! That is even worse than a mother not recognizing her child! :D
Piotr reaches for...What items does Piotr have on him?
"I have a weapon" - Garrosh nods at the man, noticing him reaching for his own gear - "And I will use it" - he adds, grasping the hilt of the morningstar, and listening to the sounds all around them.
Though she doesn't need much in the way of equipment, Rozalia still takes stock of what she has on her.
As she does, her eyes fall on the boy beside her. No, not boy... Young man...
"Caraid?" she whispers. When did he get so big?
He looks up, the name seems familiar, as does the person. Her smell, her eyes. As he stands to hug her something is wrong. Shouldn't she be taller?
"Mum? Why is it so quiet?"
Kilarra just kind of blinks to get her eyes to focus, then observes the people and environment around her. She says "Right. Everyone get into position and draw your swords. We must face this darkness together. By the light of Iomedae, we shall cleanse this corruption!"
Kilarra: 1d4 ⇒ 1 Do I have things?
The mist parts, now mere steps behind. A mask of gray rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that's almost human like, but too lean and far too flexible. Gauzy gray ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for a less doubtful flesh to claim.
Auryl will: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
Garrosh will: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Kilarra will: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Piotr will: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Caraid will: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Rozalia will: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
The alien and threatening nature of the creature sends chills down everyone's spine, except for Piotr's.
The creature seemingly drifts up to Caraid, then casually flicks a ribbon at him, slices a large gash in his abdomen.
ribbon: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
dmg: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
"Stand strong!" She yells, then she bravely steps forward towards the creature. "By the light of Iomedae, I smite you, foul eldritch horror!"
That's when she realizes that her sword does not glimmer with radiance, nor power. Has her faith faltered?
Greatsword: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 Am I shaken?
Dmg: 2d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 1) + 4 = 7
Maybe I'm just stirred.
"Get the child out of here!" - Garrosh roars - "In fact, stand back and into safety!" - he adds - "Perhaps it is too slow to follow us!" - and yet he moves forward to stand next to the valiant tiefling.
"We stand together!" - he roars, swinging the morningstar hard.
Morningstar: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Damage if it hits: 1d8 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Tower of sanity, Piotr is :)
"What the devil is that thing" Ann yelps in his head.
"How would I know?" Piotr barked back, aloud, but charges at the thing anyway, driving down a hack with his sword that even trainiees would have laughed at.
attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
"A-a-are we supposed to fight nightmares?!" Auryl doesn't understand. Nothing about this seems to make any sense. Who are these people? Why is this thing tormenting them? Even worse, why does it seem to be enjoying itself?!
Std action: launch a fire bolt at the thing
Ranged Touch: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (3) - 6 = -3
Fire damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
The creature allows Garrosh to plunge his morningstar into its substance and the morningstar passes right through without effect.
The creature lazily flows out of the way of Piotr's clumsy strike and Auryl's poorly aimed firebolt nearly singes Garrosh instead.
Didn't see Caraid indicate move, so...
The creature drives two ribbons into Caraid, what can be seen of its body language seemingly nonchalant.
ribbon: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
ribbon: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
dmg: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Caraid manages to dodge the first ribbon, but the second ribbon looks to poised to slice open his throat.
Kilarra - do you wish to use suicidal trait to take this one for him?
"Get down!" Kilarra yells as she pushes Caraid out of the way and the ribbon instead slices a deep line in her chest, puncturing a lung. Kilarra can feel with blood bubbling in her lungs with each gasping breath she takes. The creature gives an angry hiss at being denied his rightful target and glares balefully at Kilarra.
Kilarra, you take 11 points of dmg
"Fall... *pants*... Back!" Yells Kilarra. "Goddess... watchoverem."
Kilarra haphazardly swings her greatsword at the monster, which barely lifts the sword off the ground. She splutters blood and is forced to hack and cough, but she's stayed a bit back which hopefully helps her defense. AC should be 13 now, me thinks. 11 normally.
Defensive Greatsword: 1d20 ⇒ 4
Dmg: 2d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 2) + 4 = 8
Caraid shudders as Kilara leaps in front of him and thrusts his hands forward at the creature. Nothing happens.
I assume there's nothing around for Caraid to throw...
Then, foolishly he step up next to Kilara.
"I'm not leaving you behind!"
"No! You get back!" - Garrosh roars, pushin Kilarra and Caraid both back - "One more hit on any of you and you are dead! Move!"
Inquisitor beginning to shine through! :D
Want to step in front of them, and go Total Defense. If we have armor, my AC goes to 22, if not, it goes to 17.
"Well this isn't going well." Ann's voice points out, a scared voice, which Piotr understands completely.
"Shhh… will you for a moment-"
Which Ann ignores "That one's mace went right through it! How are you-"
Piotr does his best to tune out his sister's voice and hacks again with his sword, hoping rags will be better cut then bashed.
attack without power attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
crit confirmation: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Then he'll step toward a companion to use his shield to guard them. +2ac on the companion he can reach if they are attacked, the wounded ones if possible
The urge to do something guides Auryl to move towards Kilarra. Every step he takes causes his hands to glow more intensely, turning what is nothing more than a soft glow at first into a pulsating radiance of light.
The light washes over Kilarra and causes wounds to knit together, repairing some of the damage done by the wicked apparition.
Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Burn up 'Protection from Evil' to cast CLW
Auryl, I'm currently at 10/13 with Roz's heal, so are you sure you want to spend it on me? Caraid is looking rough.
Also my AC is currently 15. 10+1Dex+2Natural+2Defensive
Oh, Piotr would be at 14ac. +2 dex, +2 shield.
Piotr's accurate, deadly sword strike draws a long line into the rags of the creature, revealing beige leathery skin and red flesh beneath, yet, not a drop of blood flows from the wound. Piotr also finds it surprisingly hard to cut through the creature's flesh.
The wound inflicted by Pitor begins to heal itself. 7 dmg done for the record
The creature suddenly leaps upwards, taking to the yellow fog skies, like some giant predator, hovering menacingly over Kilarra as it swoops in for the kill.
ribbon: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
dmg: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
ribbon: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15
One of the ribbons slice into Kilarra's abdomen, but Pitor quickly raises his shield and covers Kilarra, deflecting the second ribbon. 5 dmg to Kilarra
Party up. The creature is 5 ft in the air so you can all attack it if you so choose.
Caraid yells incoherently and beside him a wall crumbles - hurling itself at the mist-cloaked figure.
Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 Damage: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10