Radiant Fire [Tyrant's Grasp]

Game Master mike9322

Dellan is only tangentially aware of the conversation. He's staring at the esobok by the queen's side. How is it that one of these vile fey creatures has a servant of Pharasma at her beck and call? This all feels so... wrong.

Argus gives Ray a stony look. "No."

Ray is clearly nervous. "Why not? Killing evil stuff, that's your whole schtick, right? And those tooth fairies down there with Prince Douchenozzle are definitely evil. This should be a no-brainer!"

"W-wanton murder because they're evil m-may fly with the Inheritor, but Sh... Shelyn does not p-permit it."

Ray swallows hard. "But you killed those dolls and all those tooth fairies earlier! What's the damn difference??"

"B-because I was defending you." Argus looks somewhat irritated now. "There is a b-big difference."

Dellan sighs and turns to Argus. "I fear Raybin may be right, Sir Argus. We must return to the Material Plane if we are to bring to justice those who eradicated Roslar's Coffer. Whoever they are, they must be stopped. We cannot do that from here. And these fey are wicked, cruel creatures that delight only in pain. If this is the only way home..." He looks stricken even as he says the words. "... then we must do it."

Argus looks at Dellan hurtfully. "N-not you too. If you d... do this... what w-will the next villain b-bully you into? Mm? Will you comm...mmit further s...s...sins in the n-name of j-justice? How far is too far?"

He plants his glaive's haft in the ground. "If you w-will not do what is r...right, do what you w-will. But Shelyn would never smile on such h-heinous acts. I am an in... instrument of Her will. I w-will find my own way."

He begins walking away. He knows he has no other way home. He knows he will likely wander the Boneyard until he dies of thirst or hunger. But he also knows he cannot commit to the acts his companions are considering.

Dellan looks pleadingly at Ray. "We cannot survive without him," he mutters.

Ray growls and stands up, then storms after Argus, putting a forceful hand on the paladin's shoulder and spinning him around.

"You know, it's all well and good for you, isn't it? You can hide behind your f++!ing code so you don't have to make the hard choices, do the ugly jobs. 'Oh, I can't, Shelyn wouldn't like it!' Well guess the f!*& what, arse-face. The rest of us don't have that luxury. While you goose-step off into the mists to die with a clear conscience, someone is out there with the power to slaughter entire towns in one fell swoop. They still have to be stopped, and as far as we know, we're the only ones who even know about it. So you abandon the rest of Golarion to its fate, secure in your f@$&ing superior morality, if that's what you want. The rest of us have real work to do."

He storms over to the queen, vein still throbbing in his forehead. "I'm in."

Dellan flinches at the occultist's tirade, but he knows he's not wrong, either. He carefully picks up his weapons and sheathes them, then says to the queen, "I am as well. Much as it disgusts me to say it, Raybin is right."

Argus quells the rage that swells up at Raybin's words and chokes it back down, gripping his glaive white-knuckled until Ray walks away. Only then does Argus' grip on the haft loosen.

His face drops when Dellan agrees to the queen's demands. This can't be right. This isn't right. Shelyn would never acquiesce to such heinous actions, even for a greater good.

... Would she?

You may be old, but you're not that experienced in the ways of paladinhood. You have barely a decade under your belt and all of it was sitting in a cushy position guarding Roslar's Coffer. And besides, even more so than your oath to Shelyn, you have another oath that needs fulfilling, and you won't do it trapped here and dying of thirst. You owe Argus a noble death. This isn't it. You can deal with the Eternal Maiden's ire later. For now, you owe him.

Argus says nothing to the others, but he also doesn't leave. He simply stands at the exit back down, looking as if he's going to be ill.

Dellan glances at the paladin and frowns, then turns back to the queen. "I think that's as close to acquiescence as you are likely to get from him." He turns to Amanteia. "Are you with us?"

Amanteia nods. "I have no qualms with doing what we need to do. Ray is crass, but he is right: we need to survive so we can tell others what we know."

Dellan hangs his head and nods, before turning back to the queen. "So. Any advice on how to deal with your wayward son, or are we to simply go in swinging? If that is the case, it may be best if we rest and replenish our stores, so to speak."

Carnassial watches the consternation with bemusement. "How exhausting it must be to think that a deity cares what you do. As for Uspid, cold iron will be quite effective, and don't let him eat your teeth. And do try not to be near him when he dies; we punish our killers in quite spectacular fashion."

She waves a hand dismissively toward the salon. "If you must rest, do so in here. I will keep Harold in my room with me so he isn't tempted." Without waiting for a reply, she waves Harold along, then closes the door behind them.

Amanteia suppresses a shudder. "It's somehow comforting to know that the afterlife is just as awful as living. I'll take first watch. It'll be good to have Somnius back."

Argus watches her go with a shake of his head. "H-how exhausting it must b... be to think so little of y-yourself that your g... goddess doesn't care," he mutters. He drops into a corner and, while he doesn't sleep, slowly begins removing his armor.

Dellan moves over to the paladin and begins helping him remove the breastplate. "Actually, she is right, but only in her own case. We are in the realm of Pharasma, and the Lady of Graves has no care whatsoever for the living. She cares only about her duties: judging the dead to make sure they reach their appropriate Afterlives, and maintaining the Cycle of Rebirth. She cares not whether we murder, or rape, or steal, or save lives, or serve her humbly or with great pageantry and posturing. We are of little consequence to her until she finds a need for us. Thus were my powers granted to me. Thus was I spared from the Boneyard in my youth. She had need of me. That is all. I am under no foolish compunctions that I am special in Her eyes."

He unbuckles a strap and lifts off a pauldron. "I think, perhaps, if any criticism could be made against Shelyn, it is that she cares too much. She seems to feel all things hold beauty, even ugly men with ugly souls. I cannot follow a goddess who says heinous people have beauty in them too. It makes no sense to me."

Argus gives the oracle a level gaze. "What ab... ab... bout me? Am I heinous?"

Dellan looks deeply uncomfortable. "I am certainly not one to judge your appearance, Sir Argus, if that is what you are asking." A raised eyebrow from the paladin shows him that clearly, it was not. Dellan shrugs, avoiding eye contact. "Hardly. You have shown nothing but compassion and an appreciation for aesthetics since your arrival, fighting only when we were attacked."

"W-would it shock you, then, to kn... know that I was n-not always so upright? I w-was a heinous man once. I s-suppose I still am. All that has ch... ch... changed is now I t-try n-n-not to be. Shelyn sees gr-race in all mortals because there is."

He slips off the cloth padding underneath, revealing a barrel chest littered with dozens of scars, mostly small, but one massive one across his back that looks like it didn't entirely heal properly, and is now fat, white, and hideously puckered across his gray-green skin.

Dellan turns away, unable to bring himself to ask the man he respects so much what he could possibly have done that was so awful. You probably do not want to know the answer, boy, he chastises, and moves off to a corner to pray before his rest.

Bob squawks loudly at the sight of Argus' back. [color=blue]"Holy crap! Did he try to sex up a bulette??"[/color]

Ray scowls at the raven. "Yeah, thanks a bunch for that mental image." He turns back to Argus. "Dipwad up here wants to know how you got the big one, on your back." He seems absolutely unconcerned with the deeply personal and probably inappropriate nature of his question.

Argus chuckles. "Ah. That. S-siege of N... N... Nerosyan, in Mendev. The one t-time I saw real action since c... coming here. Got dr-rafted for a year into the W-w-worldwound. Ugly stuff. The Eternal Maiden calls for temperance, even in such d... dark creatures as dem-mons. It w-was not an easy post. B-but at the end of the day, w-whatever other duties a paladin has... his fir...rst duty is defender of the innocent. I d... defended an allied c-caster from a pack of dr... r... retches. W-weak enough when there is one, but six..." He shudders at the memory, recalling the horrid agony as one of the demonic spawn gored straight through his scale mail and nearly severed his spinal cord. "Right down the back. I w-was paralyzed for a t...time. My comrades f-fought on, but they were s... s... struck down. The caster died. A patrol unit c-came by in the m-midst of it... saved my life. I still get p-pain in my back sometimes. Not as s... sturdy on my feet as I was before it." He shrugs and leans back, closing his eyes. "S-sent back to R... R... Roslar's Coffer after that. Been there ever s... since."

Ray leans back as well, staring off into space. He's heard of the Worldwound, but never actually met anyone who fought there. War in general isn't something he's familiar with; he's no stranger to fights--plenty of suspects had to be taken down by force in the Varlokkur--but those were against one opponent, or a handful of them, and always with aid from fellow enforcers. That's not war. And against an enemy so hideously alien and violent...

He shudders. Best not to think about it. He's got plenty in his own life to make him miserable without adding a demon war to the mix.

Amanteia sits in the corner, ignoring the squabbling of her companions. She has been making a concerted effort to not feel sorry for herself, but it is near impossible in the quiet moments. She didn't live in Roslar's Coffer; she had only been visiting! And now she is caught up in ... what is she caught up in? She doesn't know, exactly, but her gut tells her that Roslar's Coffer was just the beginning. And she is dead! Or not dead, but something in between life and death that isn't undeath? Was all this worth seeing her parents one last time? She doesn't know, but she is reluctant to consider it too deeply, for fear of what the answer may be.

As the others finally quiet down and drift off into fitful sleep, she sits and practices her cantrips. She thinks that she may have a new trick up her sleeve to deal with Uspid, some new magic that simply popped into her mind after the bridge fight. It always does that, and, like Somnius, she has no idea where it comes from. She tells herself it doesn't matter and to just embrace the damn gift, but she's never been one to accept the that's just how it is explanation.

She shakes her head, as if to eject the thoughts from her mind, and throws herself into her practice.

The night passes quietly. At one point Ray thought he heard a bang on the door to the throne room, followed by a muffled "No, Harold!", but he probably imagined it.

Amanteia (Somnius firmly planted on her shoulder) retrieves the rod and armors up, then addresses her companions. "I have some new magic that can take down most or all of Uspid's nasty little crew, but you all will need to be out of the way so I don't catch you in it. When the fight begins, give me room."

She has a +12 init, so she'll probably go first, but if she rolls badly, everyone should hold until her turn.

Argus frowns, but nods in assent. "Alright, if you're s-sure. Just m... make sure you get beh-hind us after." He turns to Dellan. "M-mind helping me, lad?"

Once he's armored up, he nods to Amanteia. "L... Lead the w-way."

Dellan rises after his morning ablutions. He can't quite place how he knows it, but... he just feels like Mother has returned to his side, even if he still can't see her. An itch of unspoken knowledge in the back of his head that he can't quite explain...

I forgot to roll healing before bed. I had two 1st level spells left and I'll use both on Ray.

CLWx2: 2d8 + 6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 = 11

Okay after resting, that puts him at 18/19. Not bad.

He nods to Argus and helps him armor up before shrugging into his armored coat and buttoning up.

"Ready."

Argus also had 3 LoH left so he'd have used them on Dellan before bed as well.

LoH: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 3, 1) = 10

Ray stares intently at the three objects in front of him: a battered bracelet comprised of small iron shields; a long, thin oak rod carved with blackened runes, as if etched into it with fire; and a small pendant on a necklace in the shape of a pentacle.

He stares for almost an hour before putting on the bracelet and amulet, slipping the rod into a frog on his belt, and joining the others. "Let's get this done."

Dellan still at 11/24?

You all head down to the ground floor of the gatehouse, then back up the grand staircase of the main castle (who designed this place?). You pause at the top of the stairs to discuss strategy. Are you going in, guns blazing, or is the plan to try to talk first?

No, Argus healed 10 and resting healed 3 so Dellan should be at full. The only one who would still be down is Ray at 18/19.

Argus stops short of Uspid's lair. "I think w-we should at least t... try to speak to him. M-make him see r-reason. I do n... not feel comfortable just k... k... kicking down the d... door with swords s-s-swinging."

Ray sighs. "You know that's a waste of time, right? These things are evil as hell. They're not going to hug it out. Besides, if we try to appeal to his better nature, we're not only going to find out he doesn't have one, but Amanteia won't have enough of a drop to use this spell she seems pretty sure is gona be real handy."

Dellan rubs his neck. "I think Argus is right, Raybin. It would be wrong to barge in and murder them. I am uncomfortable enough with this path as it is. If there is even a small chance we can end this debacle without violence, we owe it to ourselves to try."

[color=blue]"Oh man, I'm all for this. I can't wait to hear you try and say 'Make love, not war' with only half your teeth."[/color]

Ray says to Dellan, without looking at the bird on his shoulder, "I have wondered what fried raven tastes like more often since we came to this gods-cursed place than in the last year combined.

"That being said, the feathered derpstick has a point. This is only going to end one way and we know it."

He turns to the sorceress. "Come on, Amanteia," he pleads, "help me out here."

Amanteia shrugs. "It seems like mother and son both want each other dead, and they've decided that we're the ones to do the deed. I'd just as soon kill them both, but I'll be content with one if it gets us out of here. That said, I can have the spell ready to cast while Argus wastes his breath; if things go south, I'll let it go." Before Argus can react, she raises her hand. "Yes, I know what you're going to say. 'It is not a waste of breath to give someone a chance to surrender.' I don't think any of us necessarily disagree. No one here wants to kill just to kill. It's just we all know how it's going to end so we'd prefer to just skip to the end. It will get us back home that much faster."

She gestures to Argus to lead the way. "Go. Do your thing. I'll be right next to you. Do you trust me to judge when we've reached the point where the talking is over?"

Argus frowns as he considers the sorceress for a moment, then nods curtly before taking the lead.

Dellan lets Ray and Amanteia go ahead of him, guarding their rear.

Argus knocks on the door. A haughty "Enter!" comes from within. Argus opens the door and he and Amanteia enter. Uspid and his fairies don't seem to be expecting a fight; Uspid is lounging in his makeshift throne and the fairies are all perched on various pieces of furniture throughout the room.

Uspid smiles, clearly expecting that your return means that his mother is dead. "Ah, friends, you return! Show me the stamp so that we may put this nonsense behind us."

Argus shakes his head. "N-no stamp. Tell m... me Uspid. What is it that c-caused the rift between you and your m... m... mother?"

In case a Diplomacy check would help...

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

Uspid's face contorts in rage. Spittle flies from his lips as he screams, "YOU HAD ONE JOB! KILL THEM!"

ROUND 1
Amanteia (22/22 hp)
Dellan (24/24 hp)
Raybin (18/18 hp)
Uspid (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #1 (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #2 (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #3 (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #4 (0 damage)
Argus (33/33 hp)

Amanteia had readied a spell, so she will fire off her readied spell and then take her first round turn.

Bold may act.

Amanteia utters an unfamiliar but somehow perfectly clear incantation. She raises her hands and vivid, clashing colors erupt from them, filling the space between the party and the enemy.

The display is vibrant and colorful and overwhelming... and nothing happens. None of the fairies is affected in the least.

"S@*&." Amanteia looks at her hands, as if the explanation lies within them, then shrugs and raises her hands again. The same spell erupts from her hands a second time, perhaps a bit more confidently?

This time #2 tumbles to the ground unconscious. Amanteia sighs, looks an apology at the others, and retreats out of the room.

I have created the least effective character of all time.

Sound and fury, signifying nothing.

ROUND 1
Amanteia (22/22 hp)
Dellan (24/24 hp)
Raybin (18/18 hp)
Uspid (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #1 (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #2 (0 damage, unconscious [5 rounds], blind [9 rounds], stunned [10 rounds])
Tooth Fairy #3 (0 damage)
Tooth Fairy #4 (0 damage)
Argus (33/33 hp)

Bold may act.

Ray sighs. Why are all the evil creatures complete idiots?

He steps into the room, Bob still on his shoulder, and calls forth fire into the rune-etched rod, blasting a cone of flame over several creatures.

Should be able to get all the right-hand fey in the cone. Reflex half, DC 14.

Fire Damage: 3d4 ⇒ (1, 4, 1) = 6

F+#% you, die roller.

Dellan steps around the furniture to get at the left-hand fairy.

I assume the furniture makes it difficult terrain so double moving.