Ingryd still Invisible steps up to the whole in the wall. She flexed her arms and began to itch. As they did she woukd get her chance ro smash them.
More fire erupts upon the open plain, the flames shooting twenty feet into the air and surrounding about half the ghoul legionnaires. Still, invisible, Ingryd steps into position and waits for the first unlucky soulless one to step through the single gap in the fiery barricade.
A flash of lightning and the crackle of thunder signal another blast from Gunnar. The electrical bolt from the sphere slams into the leader. It's body temporarily lights up like midwinter trees as muscles spasm and flesh blackens. But for just a moment following the blast, the big ghoul's muscles are supercharged and when Gunnar's second bolt of lightning comes flying at him, the leader manages to leap aside avoiding the worst of the blast. His companion, kneeling just a few feet behind, isn't so lucky. Caught reloading the heavy crossbow, the ghoul looks up just in time to catch the full blast of the lightning directly between the eyes. The few remaining hairs on its head and face instantly vanish along with most of its lips and one eye that simply boils away in the blast. The crossbow bursts apart sending slivers of wood flying thirty feet into the air. The hapless undead is slammed backward a half dozen feet where is lays smoldering for several seconds before slowly picking itself up off the ground.
Arianna has trouble getting a good shot at her target as the single ghoul hunkers behind a scrawny bit of scrub. The cover is just enough to foil both of the elf's shots. But keeping the ghoul pinned down does allow Scramsax to ride in and snap a quick shot with his sling. The demonically infused stone slams into the ghoul's side eliciting a string of curses as she pivots toward the now retreating threat. With practiced skill she kneels, draws the bowstring back to her ear, aims a bit over her target and lets fly. A few moments later she smiles grimly at the surprised yelp when the shaft slams into the halfing's back and rots his flesh as it did with Arianna.
Seeing a good portion of his unit trapped by the billowing flames, Chaz, pulls an walnut sized orb of onyx from a pouch. Rubbing a bit of his own, all too accessible blood on the cold stone, he waits a few seconds until the eldritch runes flare to life.
"Let's see if those academy goons know their business." He says before throwing the stone directly into the fiery wall. "EVERYONE DOWN!" He shouts just as the stone enters the flames.
Upon encountering Khors holy fire, the stone releases a burst of blackness cold as the void. For several seconds, the black as a devil's pit energy swirls and churns within the holy fire. A whirlpool forms that begins to suck the flames into its quite unholy maw. A driving wind forms that gathers up loose grasses, leaves, bits of shredded cloth. All get pulled into the growling energy hungry opening. The entirety of Luthael's wall is drained away. Then moments later the whirlpool falls inward upon itself to finally vanish with an ear-popping final burst leaving behind no trace of stone, spell, or energy sucking whirlpool.
"Bit showy, but it got the job done." The ghoul mutters before raising his voice and bellowing the charge.
Freed of the trap, and following their leader, the three ghouls caught inside the fiery ring resume their charge. Two unwittingly racing past Ingryd, the other several paces away on a line toward the holy prophet of Khors. One other not caught within the flames also continues hisown charge toward the spell casters, while the second crossbow ghoul reloads.
Ghoul Captain: 77/165
Ghoul 1: 94/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 94/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 3: 103/145
Ghoul 4: 74/145 *Crossbow/Inside sphere
Ghoul 5: 92/145
Ghoul 6: 99/145 *Crossbow
Sliver: 109/145
As the storm sphere pounds the remaining ghoul inside, Gunnar wills the storm to shoot its lightning bolt at the enclosed ghoul.
As the pair of ghouls approach, Gunner repositions next to Luthael so he can hit at least one of them, then catch the leader coming up another 30 feet behind.
Ingryd seeinf rhe charge ahifts lettinher right foot back and arcinf her Mual back. They bridge the gap and she swings a heavy swing
After that she will roar, now 3xpos3d and calling upon the furious wrath of her grief and pain to allow her to then follow up with two more devistating strikes
Meanwhile, Mamluk unhurriedly leads the escaped prisoners to the group’s camp and away from the sounds of deadly battle.
Arianna calls out to Scramsax as she sees her arrows foul in Sliver's cover.
"Stick her in the eye for me!"
Seeing the ghoul captain is still up, she decides to try putting a couple of arrows in him instead.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
I heard that arrow before I felt its bile-strike. I saw the ghoul's smirky satisfaction before I felt the pain. I twisted the meat o' my deltoid before the point of death found my heart.
But I figures, I'll play along. I met lots of folks like that Sliver ghoul, get off on others dyin' and sufferin' and such. Happy soldiers are sloppy soldiers.
"Aaah...Dekatron...she got me. I'm not gonna make it, shit...this is goodbye...tell Vee...I love...UUUUUURRRGGG" slumpin off the saddle like a bag of crap...
...but not before my celestial leopard stolen from the heavens got me within a bastard's pommel of that undead b*tch. Now on the ground, Dekatron was givin' me a mournful sniff, and I kept my body still...playin' dead. But see, first trick of legerdemain is to block line o' sight. She'd lose my movements, and them bile-soaked piercers.
Luthael smiles and calls on Khors to engulf the charging ghouls in twenty foot flames again. He positions the hole in the wall of holy fire to create another bottleneck for Ingryd.
After the opaque wall ignites, he grabs Gunnar to pull him back out of melee from the ghouls.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The chaos of all out battle reigns upon the dismal open scrub outside of the lowly mountain village. Lightning crackles searing undead flesh inside the booming storm sphere until finally the hapless ghoul within the blasting conflagration recovers its wits enough to escape the circle of electrical damnation. A second thunderous blast flashes from Gunnar's fingertips toward the scattered, charging ghouls. The closest spots the wizard's arcane gestures and guesses the coming result. He dives aside midstride and avoids much of the blast. Unfortunately, the move leaves his commander wide open to the crackling blast. The squad leader tries to duck aside, but his beefy body is simply to big a target and too slow. Another blast of electrical energy pulses through his undead frame.
Across the field Ingryd's mighty battleroar rumbles in counter balance to Gunnar's storm. Stepping free of Arianna's shroud of invisibility a storm of bone, fur and muscle is unleashed upon the pair of surprised undead legionnaires. Hammer blows crash into ribs and femurs snapping bones and pummeling gray ghoul flesh.
Moments later a second wall of fire bursts to life surrounding two of those hung up by Ingryd's sudden appearance. One manages to dive clear of the flames suffering only minor burns while the other remains caught inside screaming as the holy flame of Khors cleanses the undead of its wicked flesh.
Seeing a clear line of sight to the leader, Arianna shifts her focus and aim. The snap of her bow sends one of the treant's arrows sinking deep into the ghoul's flesh where it flares to radiant life cooking the undead painfully from within. Sadly, the flash of radiant light catches the elf by surprise and the aim of her second arrow is thrown off as she blinks away the afterglow of the treant's magic.
Despite having never received true bardic training, Scramsax is able to pull off a passable enough performance to fool the female legionnaire who manages to unleash a string of curses that could melt the pitch from a Barsellan merchant ship when another ring of fire erupts across the field. Distracted by fire, lightning, and blessed elven arrows, she mistakenly ignores the halfling that tumbles from the back of the racing leopard, his final pleas falling upon her uncaring ears.
It isn't until she reaches for another arrow that the truth is suddenly revealed. Instead of finding another black feathered shaft, she finds nothing. Emptiness.
Teeth grind in hapless rage and she glances back toward the formerly lamenting leopard only to see it staring back at her with that condescending cat-look so common to all felines across the multiverse. A blink of golden eyes and the leopard leaps away with a chuckling yowl.
Although battered, the ghoul engaged with Ingryd is certainly not out. Taking advantage bearkin's frenzied fighting style, the undead warrior rakes its thick, sharpened claws across her hide. It then twists aside and ducks low, diving in to bite at her leg. Before she can kick it away, the undead manages to painfully rip away a chunk of bearkin flesh which is munches on while it ducks back waiting for another opening in the big barbarian's defenses.
The ghoul's leader and one other of his legionnaire's charge the two spellcasters. Racing forward the leader is nearly upon the two while the other warrior races up on Luthael's flank to slash at the prophet of Khors with claw and tooth. Initially it stumbles on a loose vine of dried blackberry. It's slashing claw flails in open air. But with a quick recovery, the ghoul uses its own momentum to step close snatch at the prophet's shoulder and sink its razor like teeth into Luthael's flesh.
Knowing her missing arrows must be some trickery caused by the feline riding halfling, Sliver pops a small vial from a pouch on her belt. With practiced ease she snaps the top off and downs the entire contents in a trio of rapid gulps. Moments later her muscles seem to quiver with energy, her fingers moving in a blur as she draws the short steel blade from her side. Then in a massive burst of speed she takes off running toward the fleeing leopard.
Meanwhile...a bit further away.
"Meow!" Mamluk's call carries across the scrub capturing the attention of several of the fleeing prisoners. "Meow....purrrrrr." Eyes filled with too many horrors and hopelessness turn toward the cat who strangely enough props up on its hind legs and waves its furry paws toward back toward the camp of the Narg Nasty Six.
One or two of the wounded souls simpyl ignore the strange antics of the cat as little more than further hallucinations caused by fever, hunger and terror. But several others including a very emaciated young woman of no more than 17 going on 55 stumble toward the cat.
Proud of his ability to get their attention, the fearless feline looks again at the prisoners stumbling toward him across the scrub. Hunger burns in their eyes and the cat gulps nervously before bounding off toward the camp. Following friend Gunnar's request, but being sure to stay well ahead of the starving prisoners.
Ghoul Captain: 29/165
Ghoul 1: 53/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 72/145 *Ingryd / Wall of Fire
Ghoul 3: 79/145 Wall of Fire
Ghoul 4: 52/145 *Crossbow
Ghoul 5: 92/145
Ghoul 6: 99/145 *Crossbow
Sliver: 122/145 Haste
As we ran I felt a strange tension in Dek's paws..through the mental jamboozery and whatnot. I swear she was tryin' to give the bird, not realizin' her feline mitts had an even number of beclawed digits...there was no middle. So I had to help her out and all, I mean it was easy to establish that I owed her that much. Heh.
Besides my other hand was up to somethin'.
Had a sack of siegin' crow's feet...ya they calls em calcitrapa or caltrops out around here. Figured I could spill em out sneaky sneaky, rip them dead toes to shreds. She was damned fast all of a sudden, that Sliver. Like a spider egg sac with 1000 newborns just ruptured up her rotten arse or somethin'. But yeah needed to slow the nasty ol' gal back down, fer sure...I'd wait until the slingstone was on its way, distractin' like.
Luthael grits his teeth as the crossbow bolt slips between his armor joints.
Seeing the flanking ghoul, the prophet flashes a warding flare in its eyes, as it tries to bite. But like a shark, the ghoul closes its eyes as it finds purchase on his shoulder crunching his skin and bone within his armor.
Maintaining his concentration on his wall of holy fire, he calls out to Khors, "Oh Sunlord burn these undead!"
He then summons a holy lance to strike the leader!
Arianna laughs as she sees Scram's antics out of the corner of her eye. With the archer preoccupied trying to get her arrows back, Arianna can focus on the leader more fully.
Two more arrows streak towards the leader, and the elf laughs as the adrenaline comes rushing back.
"Pity Aterro! He misses a glorious fight while he dallies in the Never Realms," she calls out before her eyes light on Ingryd once more.
"Bury them in a shallow grave! Let their flesh and bones feed the flowers that feed the bees. Let their foul unliving existence be turned to sweet honey!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Smiling in the midst of the savage combat, Gunnar intones in a scholarly tone, "And what comes after lightning?" as he calls down another bolt from the storm sphere to the crossbow ghoul.
"That's right, of course--THUNDER!" he yells as he touches Luthael's shoulder lightly and they teleport away, leaving a booming crash of thunder to damage the ghouls crowding around them.
The bearkin growls as the bite and slash take hold. It was somethinf she could fight off her rage fueling her. Which was great as she used it.
With swings she faced the undead monster before her. The Red haze if rage focused on its destruction. Two powerful swings went out to smash them into bloody mess.
The sling stone creates a satisfying *thwack* as it careens off the pursueing ghouls chest. If ghouls bruised, Sliver would certainly be dealing with a doozy come tomorrow morning. Fortunately, for the undead such things were no longer of any concern. The contemplation of such mundane things as bruising and morning, for she hadn't really stopped to watch the sunrise for over 125 years, nearly causes her to miss the sudden sparkle of metal from the ground. Marena's grace momentarily blesses the legionnaire. A warning flashes in her battle-hardened mind and she quickly side steps the sharpened bit of metal. The light of Luthael's fiery wall glitters upon numerous other metal bits. Brothers and sisters to the wicked little pointed pyramid in front of her. Slowing her pace just a little, she bobs and weaves through the quickly trapped area and then continues her pursuit of the fleeing leopard and its tricky rider.
Meanwhile near the center of the battle, the ghoulish forces are hardpressed. A burst of holy light flashes forth from Khor's prophet to distract the nearest undead foe. Luthael then utters a pray to the sun god that ripples through the weakening leader. Oddly, the other legionnaire caught within holy uttering becomes briefly shrouded in gloom and shadow. It's eyes flash with an unholy malevolence that clearly is not of its own conjuring. A chill foul wind drifts across the battlefield and then all is as it was before.
Seeing the leader's growing weakness, Arianna sends two more gifts of the treant flying toward the big ghoul. Both strike, the second taking the undead in the side of the head. The treant's magic bursts forth and instantly vaporizes most of the ghoul's remaining brain matter. The warrior's body continues to stumble forward for several steps before realizing all contact with the brain has ceased. Upon this rather demoralizing discovery, the ghoul's body simply tumbles to the ground leaking a foul smelling greenish gray ooze from ears and nose.
Whatever entity momentarily possessed the ghoul charging toward Luthael and Gunnar, it is no longer evident when the wizard's thunderous magic booms across the battlefield. The ghoul stumbles backward as the arcane blast slams into it like a battering ram. By the time it recovers its senses, its quarry it curses upon discovering the two spell casters much further away. To emphasize the point of their escape, the wizard then zaps on of the ghoul's companions with yet another bolt of lightning.
Closer the roaring bearkin is caught in a brutal dual with one of the legionnaires trying to push through the opening in Luthael's flaming wall. Behind, its companion screeches in pain as the flames broil flesh and incinerate hope. The ghoul parries Ingryd's initial blow but can't block or avoid her return strike. Her maul slams into the ghoul shattering bone and searing flesh.
Horns begin to sound within the ghoul camp and the light and sound of battle is finally noticed by those still stunned and recovering from the earlier explosion and subsequent chaos. But the Undying Emperor's legions are feared for a reason. Soon enough the forces of darkness and evil begin to rally and organize. Another horn blast echoes across the plain.
The ghoul slashes and snaps at Ingryd. This time her reckless return attack, gets the bearkin slightly off balance. Her parry is late. Undead claws slash her chest and she is unable to fend off the ugly creatures sharpened teeth as it ducks in to rip away another hunk of flesh.
The first crossbow legionnaire moves further away from the broiling sphere of storm energy and then snaps off a shot at the wizard. The heavy bolt comes streaking straight for the dwarf.
The second shooter tries again for Luthael. But a bit of splattered blood fouls the mechanism for the shortest of moments. The muck throws off the aim terribly and the bolt flies off into the distance.
With the taste of flesh of Khor's prophet still lingering on its tongue, the legionnaire foiled by Gunnar's thundering teleportation once again races toward the two caster's. It's untiring feet rapidly closing the distance.
Having safely navigated the caltrops, Sliver starts to pursue Scramsax and Dekatron. But then the horns sound. Taking a quick look back toward the rest of her squad she sees Chaz has fallen and several remain caught within a ring of heavenly fire. Her eyes turn back toward the fleeing feline, but a shake of her head and she turns in a loop circling around the caltrop covered land and back toward the camp.
Many said the gnomes were responsible for the attack. She thought to herself, remembering the redcaps discovered within the camp and near the heart of the blast. But this is no group of gnomes. Her mind pictures a halfling, elf, and the bearking, human, and dwarf trio methodically ripping apart the rest of her squad. I need to get back to camp before they tear apart our allies. Her arms and legs blur as the magical energy pumping through her body powers her back toward the rallying encampment.
At the edge of the wood, Mamluk draws the delirious prisoners forward until finally reaching the camp and its smoldering remains of a fire and packs. Unsure what to do next, but really not liking the way several of the people are looking at the well fed feline, the cat snarls and slashes as several of the packs sitting around the camp. Rations spill out onto the ground just as the starved folk stagger into the camp. Not having to chase the sausages, jerky, and other dried rations, the hungry folk descend upon the buffet voraciously while Mamluk makes a hasty retreat into a nearby thorn bush.
Ghoul Captain: 0/165
Ghoul 1: 36/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 50/145 *Ingryd / Wall of Fire
Ghoul 3: 57/145 Wall of Fire
Ghoul 4: 38/145 *Crossbow
Ghoul 5: 78/145
Ghoul 6: 99/145 *Crossbow
Sliver: 113/145 Haste
As the crossbow bolt sails in, Gunnar hurriedly reacts with an arcane gesture, causing a Shield to rise before him (increasing his AC to 26 for a round). His Arcane Ward activates, fueled by the abjuration spell!
With the foes out of range of his Storm Sphere, the spell is now nothing more than a beacon to guide more enemies to the fight. As such, Gunnar releases his concentration on it, then focuses the Curse of the Frost Giants on the approaching ghoul.
Had a wild idea just then to lasso the old girl like a horseman of the eastern plains. Lack of places to hide does strange things to a man. I mean woman.
Ingryd takes the blows, blood splattering over her body from wounds. She still stands fighting her body still strong and her muscles enraged.
With anger flowing she whirled with great intensity. One strike snd then the other seekinf to end this ghoul and then aid her fellow party members.
While maintaining his wall of holy fire, Luthael starts pulling the holy lance toward the remaining ghoul outside the wall of holy fire.
He puts his hand again on Gunnar to pull him backwards a few steps to exit charge range of the approaching ghoul.
He then shouts, "Khors will burn you!" calling radiant flames to appear on the ghoul.
The crossbow bolt shatters upon Gunnar's quick ward. Moments later, the crackle and flash of Gunnar's broiling storm sphere winks out of existence. For a brief moment the charging ghoul believes the disappearance of the arcane tempest to be a sign the dwarf wizard is weakening in some fashion. This mistake cost the undead warrior as he ceases his dodging charge and instead takes a straighter tact. Using the ghoul's foolish mistake to his advantage the dwarf unleashes the cold energy of the far north upon the undead. Gray skin turns a bluish white and the creature's limb move a bit slower as a sudden puff of frosted air escapes its surprised lips.
The wall of holy flame continues to burn, slowly incinerating those trapped within. Hope of escape dwindles further when a series of decisive, quick strikes by Ingryd pulverize the ghoul trying to breakout past the bearkin. It's battered body slumps back into the flame where truly dead flesh begins to sizzle, spit, and blacken.
Nudging his companion back a few paces, Luthael maintains the burning wall and call upon the sun god once again. This time holy fire strikes the frosted ghoul still charging toward the two casters. Chilled limbs react too slowly and the brilliant flare of holy light engulfs the ghoul turning undead flesh to ash and dust. Driven by hate of living things and fear of the emperor's wrath, the legionnaire charges on into almost certain doom.
Meanwhile, Scramsax while lacking proper hat, boots, chaps, and spurs attempts to wrangle the fleeing Sliver. Dekatron yowls as the halfling plunges his heals into the leopards flanks and begins to twirl the length of rope just like he'd seen the tough old boys do when the cattle drives arrived at the Barsallan stockades. Every year the city outskirts are flooded with tons of beef on the hoof (along with tons of additional fertilizer) destined to get butchered, packed, and shipped by the city's merchant fleet to all corners of the western Midgard. Wranglers culled the best of the herds for breeding stock or the tables of the wealthiest citizens. Others simply made sure the strays got rounded up and didn't end up wandering off where it might get caught and butchered by some of the cities less financially well off folk.
And so, with visions of those wrangling ropers alight in his mind, Scramsax whirls the rope while shouting a Dekatron for more speed. Judging the distance as closed as can be, the halfling lets fly with the rope. For just a moment it looks to be right on target, but then with a quick burst of necromantic speed, the ghoul ducks away from the rope. The lasso slips away and falls into the dirt as the ghoul keeps racing ahead.
"Break off fools!" Sliver shouts to her crossbow wielding squad mates. Her arms and legs pump harder doing her best to outrun the leopard riding halfling. "Got to warn the others! Go GO!"
Knowing he has little hope of outrunning spell or leopard, the ghoul charging Gunnar and Luthael simply growls and doubles his own efforts to reach the two. The first crossbow ghoul snaps off a shot at Luthael. The bolt zips through the air and slams into the prophet of Khors. The ghoul then takes off at a loping run toward the camp.
The second crossbow wielding undead takes aim at Gunnar and launches a shot at the spell casting dwarf. The black steel bolt flies true. Even the wizard's ward cannot completely deflect the well aimed and timed missile completely away. But fortune shines upon those fighting for good and the bolt only nicks Gunnar in the arm leaving a shallow and mostly superficial wound.
Desperate to escape the flames of Luthael's wall, one of the ghouls trapped within, launches itself at Ingryd to try and break free. Claw and tooth flail wildly at the bearkin. The frenzied desperation seems to catch the bearkin off guard. Claws slash and rend flesh as the ghoul actually drives the bearkin back enough for the undead to slip free of the encircling flames. Seeing the sudden opening, the second trapped undead dives through the gap and tumbles along the ground to extinguish it burning flesh and gear.
Ghoul 1: 0/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 28/145 *Ingryd / Wall of Fire
Ghoul 3: 35/145 Wall of Fire
Ghoul 4: 38/145 *Crossbow
Ghoul 5: 38/145
Ghoul 6: 99/145 *Crossbow
Sliver: 113/145 Haste
Gunnar quickly extends his arcane ward over the injured priest, which is then further weakened by the crossbow bolt impacting him.
Seeing Ingryd take a fearsome strike from the ghoul facing her, Gunnar says to Luthael, ”We must regroup and heal before we are overwhelmed. Quickly, let us kill the one before us and hasten to Ingryd’s aid.”
Summoning another blast of otherworldly chill to afflict the ghoul charging him, Gunnar heads off towards Ingryd (25 feet).
Ingryd let more of her blood spill and just growled. She assessed and moved ti the next target. With rage fuelinf her she roars and sends a fury of metal and fire.
Luthael grits his teeth at the second crossbow bolt.
The prophet nods to Gunnar and calls to Khors to strike down the ghoul near him and Gunnar.
Then, he calls out to Ingryd, Gunnar and Arianna that Khors is with them.
Elves, it is said, have an innate connection to the Weave, the fabric of reality that defines the laws of nature and magic itself. Determined to make the gnomes pay for what their brethren did to her, Arianna digs deep into that wellspring of power and, just for a moment, bends it to her will. A portal opens in front of Sliver, too close for her to avoid. Another opens above the ring of fire, a hundred feet in the air and aimed down at the unyielding earth. Pain blazes all over Arianna's body as the energies needed to warp the threads of reality hammer her body. She ignores it, grinning like a woman gone mad as she sees the results of her handiwork.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
She'd nearly outrun the trap when the portal of arcane energy swirls open in the blink of an eye. She tries to stop or throw herself aside from the glowing portal, but there just isn't enough time. Her rapidly churning legs plunge through the opening to find themselves dashing across nothing but open air. A momentary look of shock is quickly replaced by fear and just as quickly a bit of resolute determination as she sees the rapidly approaching ring of holy fire. Unfortunately, attempts to steer away from the conflagration prove futile as her limbs flap uselessly and her armor proves less than useful as it drags her down even quicker.
Eventually, she is forced to depend upon her undying body's relative resilience to survive the coming collision. Tucking her arms and legs she throws herself into a magically enhanced spin as the final few feet of open air disappear. By Marena's bloody backside, I hate elves. Is her final thought before...
*WHUMPFF*
A cloud of dust bursts upward from the sight of impact. Rivets on her armor burst free as her body absorbs the remainder of the long fall. At the same time, holy fire boils skin and turns hair to ash. But her spinning, curled body manages to roll right through the opening in the ring past her dying comrade as Ingryd's hammer crushes his ghoulish skull and Gunnar's bolt of frost finishes off whatever life force may have still inhabited the sack of animated flesh.
Shooting up from her tucked position, the ghoul once again takes off on a zig-zagging run, this time trailing a band of smoke from her smoldering clothing and hair.
The legionnaire charging Luthael, manages to twist aside from the bolt of holy flame. Lunging forward the ghoul rakes a claw at the prophet and opens up a series of nasty cuts across the cleric's chest and shoulder. Moments later a sling stone comes flying. The halfilng powered projectile careens off the ghoul's iron armor and falls harmlessly to the ground.
Healing energy flows across the scene when Khor's prophet bathes the area in the god's light. More horns blow from the direction of the camp.
A nearly incinerated skeletal figure emerges from the center of the ring of fire. Armor red hot, skin charcoal, and eyes little more than glowing eldritch orbs of energy within burnt out sockets. The last ghoul trapped inside launches itself at Ingryd with tooth and claw. The burnt undead's frenzied attack catches the bearkin off guard. She's unable to fend of the fiery hot claws that slash another series of cuts across her burly frame. She does manage to fend off the undead's snapping jaws as she dances back a step leaving it to bite nothing but smoke and hot air.
The two other legionnaires continue to flee toward the camp, although, slower than the potion powered Sliver.
Meanwhile....
Stepping through you find yourself in a fog shrouded bog. Alone. You turn around to step back through the gateway only to find it closed and disappeared as if it had never been. A single muddy path winds forward surrounded on either side by black, brackish water. The stench of rotting vegetation and death drifts up from swamp and clings to your clothes and nostrils like unwelcome inlaws.
With little else to do, you trudge forward. You can only guess at time's passage for their is no sun or night or moon anything but the dank eerie gray shroud. Always the waters lap softly against the mucky shore just a few feet away. Once you catch a glimpse of something floating in the perpetual black waters. Chalky white a dozen feet away. Bringing your lantern forward, you quickly make out the mounded backside of a body. Arms stretched out. Bald head face down in the cold water. The swollen, naked corpse simply floats upon the water without current or wind to guide it elsewhere. Further along the path you spot another corpse. A dark skinned southlander. Soon enough the path seems to lead you through a sea of the dead. Poor hopelessly lost souls floating in this dark icy grave. Is this another shadow realm? Some forlorn plane of hell? A lost elven realm torn asunder during the great Mage Wars? One cannot know.
A pause to sip from your waterskin. Suddenly a voice echoes. A shouted warning. Both voice and phrase are familiar. Your arcane brother in arms, Gunnar. A muffled boom of thunder quickly follows. You race forward, slogging along the trail. Slipping sliding. Twice you fall covering yourself with fetid muck. But another rumble of thunder. Somewhere ahead a flicker of brilliant light. Perhaps the prophet of Khors unleashing his own god's power. Somewhere off to your left a splash. Something hits the water sending ripples softly cascading against the shore. A foul, ungodly stench erupts as the shifting waters release pent up gases from hundreds of nearby bodies. You stifle the need to wretch and push forward along the path.
More voices. More echoes and sounds of battle, yet nothing appears before your straining eyes. Glorious combat occurs, but you cannot reach it. Ingryd's roar or rage, but also pain. The familiar syllables of Gunnar's warding magic. Do things go for or against your allies? You rush forward calling upon Thor's guidance.
Suddenly the air swirls and churns. The fog boils and bodies hiss and belch their long held grotesque contents. A crackle of energy whips through the air sending your skin to tingling and your hairs on end. Then another doorway opens in the briefest of instances. The smell of smoke, blood, and fire, along with the sounds of battle burst from the opening along with the sight of a starlit sky and distance lights of a camp or village. Rally horns roll across the scrub dotted plain and you dive for the opening even as it starts to slam closed.
Ghoul 1: 0/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 0/145 *Ingryd / Wall of Fire
Ghoul 3: 13/145 Wall of Fire
Ghoul 4: 38/145 *Crossbow
Ghoul 5: 38/145
Ghoul 6: 99/145 *Crossbow
Sliver: 62/145 Haste
Arianna snarls a curse as the ghoul manages to slip past Ingryd before the bearkin can start smashing its skull in. Too clever, too clever by far this one is. She's too dangerous to let live even if she hadn't known the truth.
"Taqa sends his regards, you rotting b&+#~," she growls as she lines up a shot.
After sending her arrows, she turns to Gunnar and Luthael.
"Kill the runners! Kill them before they can get word back," she shouts as loudly as she dares.
Ingryd takes a couple hits and moves about ignoring the bite. As she does she whips nack the hammer to send it crashing into the reature before her pushing it back enough.
|
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"Oh conFOUND!" The armored saint shouts at the stinking, mucky-muck that he finds himself in. IS this not always the way? Of course one merely wants to find one's self surrounded with perpetual GLORIOUS COMBAT, but then, upon the brink of entering some mystical portal in search of such, instead one is surrounded by...what is this? Bodies already killed and the stinking, mucky, swamp filled with a century of filth and stench. The stench seems eternal in this bog.
After getting properly covered in muck and grime that will take some time to clean...heh, well, not now. Aterro waves a hand and snaps his fingers, the muck disappearing as if he had spent an hour of hard work at cleaning and polishing and rubbing sand about to cleanse the METAL. Ha! For a moment he feels pride in his Thor granted abilit--
*WHOMP*
Only for him to -again- fall flat into another particularly succulent pond of swamp scum. Humph. Teach him to try the easy way instead of facing things the hard. Thus is his path. He is made of steel, and steel, of course, is meant to bear weight.
He picked up his pace, perhaps Ingryd will not have killed them all by the time battle is joined, but soft! What is this? Perhaps Thor has had his jest and is now ready to send him into--
Aterro cries as he steps lightly from a sudden portal. Like a air elemental sent from the hoary mountains of Asgard itself, Brother Aterro Dominatus all but dances out of another chaos portal that flashes and fades again.
All he had heard was the last of the bard's sentence.
"Ha! And good to see you as well! Kill the runners? So, I see you have not killed them all and saved at least a few for me. But they are COWARDS, running away while they yet have un-life, or what passes for it, pumping in their evil, heartless shells. Ha! But whatever. I have no longer pride enough to turn my nose up at such leavings. You want them fallen, master? So let it be said so let it be done!"
True to his word, Aterro trots forward to keep pace with the fleeing cowards. First he calls upon Loki, Embodiment of Mischief, to curse their steps and fill their futures full of sad tidings. Then he extends a mailed fist and losses two bolts, one the emerald green of fading hope, the other a blazing crimson of wrath and ruin and the crimson dawn!
Arianna blinks in surprise before laughing at the spectacle of Aterro Dominatus striding forth, covered in muck but ever the master of battle and combat.
"Aye! Burn their flesh and crush their bones! Leave not even ashes," she calls out. This day having seen too many strange events for her to question their good fortune now.
Luthael heeds Arianna's directions and sends a bead of crimson energy toward the runners after a quick prayer to the Sunlord Khors,. When the trace of red light reaches the two runners, the explosion of holy fire engulfs them for a few seconds.
'Scramsax the Naked Spur'...one of a thousand aliases. Was never quite fond of that pick, truth be told. But when they all started huffin' their lipless bloody mouths and beatin' their dead clams back to camp, spur on Dekatron I did. Across the open prairie, dodging half-eaten torsos and fireballs...my second-story pincher twirlin' as I bucked and bit into the ride.
Was a matter of keepin' our faces secret. Mates were always discreet like that, none of us very fond of paint 'n powder.
Getting the rest of the way to Ingryd as she (hopefully) downs her last foe near the wall of flame, Gunnar lightly touches her shoulder and says, “What say we take to the skies and chase down the fleeing ones?”
”Wait for me.” Luthael activates his winged boots and follows Gunnar aloft.
"Keep low," Audria warns, "They already have eyes pointed this way if the horns are any indication."
The first of Arianna's arrows slams into the dodging ghoul as she weaves across the rocky landscape. Another flare of light and string of curses flash into the evening air as the hasted legionnaire stumbles but doesn't fall. The elf's second arrow flies just wide of the target as the ghoul plants her foot and suddenly shifts left.
Aterro's return is punctuated by a blast of holy fire that engulfs the other two ghouls who flee to warn their comrades. One manages to dive aside and avoid the worst of the sun god's holy fire. The second is engulfed in the flames that black flesh and turn iron armor a glowing red.
Seeing Arianna target Sliver, Aterro follows suit. Loki's curse wraps its tendrils about the undead before the paladin unleashes two bolts of power toward the legionnaire. The first simply misses. Adjusting his aim for the send, the holy warrior sees triumph turn to frustration when once again the ghoul manages to zag at just the appropriate moment to avoid the oncoming eldritch blast.
Ingryd utterly obliterates the blackened skeletal remains of the undead fighter swiping at her. It's charcoal flesh and burnt skull shatter and crumble beneath the weight and strength of the bearkin's blows. A few minutes later Gunnar arrives at her side and Ingryd feels the familiar weightlessness of flight as she slowly begins to drift upward.
Following the dwarven wizard, Luthael easily avoids a parting swipe made by the lone remaining legionnaire as his boots carry him well above the undead's reach. With few targets to choose from the battle enraged ghoul races toward Arianna. However, in his reckless charge he fails to spot a tangle of dry, thorny vines near the elf. The warrior manages to stumble through the mass thwarting any attempted attack on the elf.
Finally, with a wave of his hat and a rustic 'yee haw', Scramsax slaps his heels to Dekatron's sides (the leopard of course marks this indignity within his mental ledger and begins to ponder a suitable form of revenge) and rides for the recently flame broiled ghoul. Once again his lasso whirls in the air. This time the halfling recalls the wrist action used by those hombres in the stockyards back home and the loop of rope flies true. As soon as it drapes across the ghoul's shoulders, Scramsax yanks on the rope pulling it tight and jerking the fleeing undead to the ground.
The legionnaire tries to slash at the entangling line but can't manage to get a proper angle on the tough length of hemp.
Ghoul 1: 0/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 0/145 *Ingryd / Wall of Fire
Ghoul 3: 0/145 Wall of Fire
Ghoul 4: 24/145 *Crossbow
Ghoul 5: 38/145
Ghoul 6: 70/145 *Crossbow / Lasso
Sliver: 46/145 Haste / Hex(STR)
Arianna dives away from the ghoul after her. She's hurting, but she knows that if the quickened ghoul gets away, they are all in trouble.
The feeling of elation and triumph tastes bitter on Arianna's tongue as her next two shots go flying off. The ghoul is onto her, and dammit, it had to be the smart one that had the potion quickening her strides.
Trusty old rope. Blessed by Thor, no doubt. Was the very same that pulled Crackles back from that black raging void under Rad's tower. Yeah, inspired holy hemp, in fact...a partner in the pocket of gods. Every individual teensy tiny strand of it completely saturated by that divine essence...as if braided from his trusty goat's nostril hairs themselves. Yes, plucked from the sacred grove of his brother Baldr (dodger of arrows), each fiber whispers a unique secret of Ragnarok...portending your end and the end of us all. Yeah, magic rope. Heh. Got a Real Deal for you at 100 gp, being a friend and all. Not many knows where to get this stuff. But I do.
The Rope Who Shall Not Be Sliced had one last trial to endure though, as I tied a loop quick on the saddle and dragged the ghoul's sorry ass across the barren sheep-grazed stone and dry, moth infested shrubberies. Well, was Dekatron doin' most of the work, if I remember...
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"And wait for ME!" Aterro yells in powerlessness as the flying trio take off into airy flight. "Oh confound! If ONLY I had a FLYING! CARPET! to keep pace with! Harrumph," he yells after them, harkening back to the recently (to him, at least) lost carpet that was swapped in for an ephemeral cat. A poor trade at twice the price.
"I bet he doesn't even still have the cat," Aterro mumbles, turning away from the chase and giving it over to those with less fealty to gravity.
Returning to the bard, he is greeted with a satisfactory consolation prize of one ghoul with enough life and heart to return to the battle line.
"Oh Thor does shine upon me this day!" he states, hefting again his fellhammer Deathmetal, The Mourning Star, and his shield, The Metal...because you can't kill The Metal. "Here I had thought I'd missed all the excitement! Arianna, I am indebted to you for using yourself as bait just so I could feel included. I will have to repay you sometime and gather a truly horrible foe for you to fight single-handed. It would only be right."
Having crossed the distance at a leisurely pace, all the better to take in the battlejoy and to give the ghoul time enough to make ready, once within striking distance he LUNGES to the attack, his weapon rising and falling and rising again while his lungs call out a hearty tune.
"The battle rages towards the walls,
Each moment blaring a defeaned call,
The enemies lay in wait ahead,
The bodies around us stink of the dead!"
Though he mourns his Curse of Loki, apparently so wasted on the fleeing ghoul, its loss leaves him enough mental clarity to follow up his Crushing Star attack with a Falling Mountain follow-up, crashing into the ghoul with shield, seeking to make him lose his balance.
Confident that his companions can handle the closer ghouls, Gunnar races forward towards the one furthest away, Ghoul 4. Flying as fast as he can, the dwarven mage vanishes in a swirl of dusty smoke and appears right next to the target!
Ingryd shrugs off the momentary shock of risingnoff the ground and speeds towards the leader. Raking all speed she can to get there. As she moves the swarm of bees aurrounds her as the lingering tail of flame licks from her hammer head. It is hungry like its mistress to end these undead and thier wicked kingdom.
Quickly falling behind his fellow flyers, Luthael flies toward Scramsax and slings sacred flame at his restrained ghoul.
Arianna tries to leap away from the frenzied ghoul. Unfortunately she finds purchase on a loose rock that nearly sends her sprawling and foils her aim at the fleeing Sliver. Seeing an opportunity the ghoul steps forward and swings his clawed arm toward the unlucky elf.
*CLANG!*
The undead fist bounces off the solid steel of Aterro's shield. Surprised at the sudden appearance of the paladin seemingly out of nowhere, the undead warrior can do little but attempt to defend himself. He manages to parry the paladin's first blow, but the second lands with a solid thunk upon the ghoul's iron armor. The blow sends him off balance and before he can recover Aterro again thrusts his shield at the legionnaire. The second blow is too much and the ghoul tumbles into the dirt, scrambling to regain his feet.
Scramsax feels only a momentary tug of resistance on the rope as he sends Dekatron scampering across the plain with the ghoul in tow. The undead tries to plant his feet, but it quickly learns the old lesson that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Having skipped the usual ration of Crunchy Bits the legionnaire is simply too weak to hold firm against the halfing and leopard duo. He goes flying from his feet and is dragged several dozen paces across the rocky, thorn riddled scrub. Adding insult is the burst of holy fire that engulfs the undead as it is dragged along into the night.
In a *whoosh* of arcane magic, Gunnar disappears and reappears right next to one of the fleeing ghouls. The surprised creature lashes out at the dwarf and somehow manages so slam a clawed hand into the wizards chest as the legionnaire pivots hard into a fighting stance.
Ingryd swoops down toward the fleeing Sliver. Watching from above, she sees the wily ghoul stumble once then twice before her speed drops significantly. The bearkin also hears the muttered curse as the ghoul makes toward a scraggly juniper tree to provide a bit of cover from any overhead attack.
Ghoul 1: 0/145 *Ingryd
Ghoul 2: 0/145 *Ingryd / Wall of Fire
Ghoul 3: 0/145 Wall of Fire
Ghoul 4: 24/145 *Crossbow
Ghoul 5: 23/145
Ghoul 6: 33/145 *Crossbow / Lasso
Sliver: 46/145
Throwing up a shield at the last moment to try and block the ghoul's attack, Gunnar finds the spell insufficient, though it does absorb a bit of the attack's damage.
Gunnar takes a major hit and tries his best to keep concentration on the spell of flight.
Keeping the spell going, Gunnar tries to return the favor, reaching out with his ornate hammer blessed by the holy tree and smites the ghoul with it!
and no reactions until its turn.
Scramsax doesn't look like he needs help, but Luthael throws another Sacred Flame just in case.