Yattle twists away from the fiery explosion, using its force to help propel them away from their companions as fire once more seeps from their pores
Eirnar's advice makes sense- more sense than everyone showing up in a theater to ambush us at least- but Yattle couldn't help but think that burning their way free might make sense as well...
Hearing Eirnar babbling about something not being right, Delroy takes a moment to study the foes.
"T'aint real...." he spits.
He studies the puppet guy.
Then takes a 5' step and jabs him in the eyes.
Vs AC 25
From off in the woods, a woman's voice can be heard. "What on earth is all that commotion?"
The robed figured around Delroy respond.
"It's your co-star, my dear."
"Yes, I'm afraid he's being quite stubborn."
"Though I still have no doubt he'll manage to steal the show."
The was the briefest of pauses before an angry, "Say what now?"
From somewhere behind scenes, a woman's voice can be heard. "What on earth is all that commotion?"
Balimar responded. "It's your co-star, my dear. Yes, I'm afraid he's being quite stubborn. Though I still have no doubt he'll manage to steal the show."
The was the briefest of pauses before an angry, "Say what now?"
Undetered, Balimar and Balio moved away from Delroy, Balimar making some gestures and muttering to himself. A moment later, Balio slammed his body into the half-orc three times.
Taking a moment to gather his wits, Kaldwell attempted to see through the 'illusion' and discern if it was real or not.
Kaldwell gritted his teeth. "I'm not sure what these are," he called back, "But I think they might be solid enough to hurt us." He looked over at the other voice. Perhaps this would shed some light on fight.
Yattle narrows their vine-wrapped eyes at the shadowy figure that had dodged their blast, but something about the way the flame had played in the shadows didn't look quite right... "You sure didn't light up very much from that fire... So your fireball didn't come from you at all did it!"
They closed their eyes, focusing intently on the slightest sounds around them as they spun, hurling fire once the rustles of false-shadows had stopped!
31 damage each
Both Balimar and Balio look quite injured by the fire blast, but both also seem to have plenty of fight left in them.
A moment later a beautiful Varisian woman appears out of the woods with a bouquet of roses in her arms. Or at least, beautiful from the waist up. From the waist down she appears to have a snake's body. She dramatically flips her hair as she loudly demands, "Who is this would be co-star arrogant enough to believe they can share a stage with moi?"
"This one! The half-orc!" one robed figured yells, pointing where Delroy used to be as another points back in the direction he ran off to.
The woman ignores the clearly ludicrous statement, instead turning to stare out at the group of Lokhir, Kaldwell, and Eirnar. "Which of you is foolish enough to believe you have to talent to stand in the spotlight with the great Eliara?"
A moment later a beautiful Varisian woman emerges from behind the stage curtain with a dramatic flourish and a bouquet of roses in her arms. Or at least, beautiful from the waist up. From the waist down she appears to have a snake's body. She flips her hair as she loudly demands, "Who is this would be co-star arrogant enough to believe they can share a stage with moi?" As she emerges, a flurry of three incredibly ugly bird creatures comes with her, bobbing their heads as they scatter about the theatre and look quizzically around. A fourth peeks shyly around from the woman's lower half.
"This one! The half-orc!" Balimar yells, pointing where Delroy used to be as Balio points back in the direction he ran off to.
The woman ignores the clearly ludicrous statement, instead turning to stare out at the group of Lokhir, Kaldwell, and Eirnar. "Which of you is foolish enough to believe you have to talent to stand in the spotlight with the great Eliara?"
A moment later a beautiful Varisian woman emerges from behind the stage curtain with a dramatic flourish and a bouquet of roses in her arms. Or at least, beautiful from the waist up. From the waist down she appears to have a snake's body. She flips her hair as she loudly demands, "Who is this would be co-star arrogant enough to believe they can share a stage with moi?"
"This one! The half-orc!" Balimar yells, pointing where Delroy used to be as Balio points back in the direction he ran off to.
The woman ignores the clearly ludicrous statement, instead turning to stare out at the group of Lokhir, Kaldwell, and Eirnar. "Which of you is foolish enough to believe you have to talent to stand in the spotlight with the great Eliara?"
Lokhir looked at the woman with disdain clearly written on his face. "We came here and tried to be polite. It is your menagerie that attacked us." He said, hiding the fact that he was already beginning to cast a spell."[/b]
His hands made the complicated motions necessary for the enchantment, and immediately all of his allies could feel their alacrity increase. Moving quicker than a normal elf, Lokhir made his way towards the woman.
Eirnar grows increasingly worried that the wards against fire may not be all they need. He tries to soothe the current wounds, pulling out a potion from his pack and calls out an inspiring prediction.
Eliara does indeed possess great abilities, but all of you got out of the way of the last ball of fire, you can do it again! Well, everyone but me...
Balimar: 31
Balio: 9
2 more rounds blinded
Eirnar identifies the woman as a lamia matriarch. They can cast spells from both the sorcerer and cleric spell list. Cleric spells are considered arcane spells for them. In addition, their touch can drain 1d4 points of Wisdom each time it hits and the first time they hit with a melee weapon, they drain 1 point of Wisdom negated by a DC 21 Will save. Draining Wisdom does not heal them.
The robed figured that had been next to Delroy before he retreated decide to instead focus their attention on Lokhir, one of them murmuring more arcane knowledge as he goes as the ones remaining near Kaldwell and Eirnar close ranks, one managing to score a hit on the shaman.
Balimar makes a few more gestures and most of the wounds on Balio close as with supernatural speed, the duo closes in on the shaman, Balimar landing a solid hit that doesn't quite manage to land in a vital spot.
"I have no idea what's going on," Kaldwell said, deeply confused by why this snake woman was talking about acting and why these were robbed figures attacking.
Yattle, now reasonably certain what is and isn't real, calls forth more and more flame to scour Balimar and Balio from their sight!
Balio: 45
2 more rounds blinded
With a start, Kaldwell finally realizes the robed figures are but an illusion. The scene fades to be replaced by the theatre.
With a scream of pain, Balimar, barely on his feet, starts yelling, "We surrender! We surrender! Stop with the fire and I'll write a play for each of showing off your specific talents!"
Eliara sneers at the director from the stage, seeming not to notice the golden light that floats her way from Yattle's tattoo . "Spoken like the pathetic little man you are. I however, am made of sterner stuff." She then turns to Lokhir, smiling coldly at him. "And I can do that as well." She snaps her fingers and a similar wave of speed washes over her. It seems a little like a waste just for her, but then she continues. "Now attack my pets!"
In a sudden flurry, four incredibly ugly birds seem to appear out of nowhere, flying at the faces of the group!
Eirnar steps away from both the new enemy and the one that surrendered. He casts a shell of succor upon himself, using his ancestors to ward himself.
He finally tests the surrender's veritas by drinking the potion while within range of the reach weapon.
"Not very smart." Lokhir remarked as he dispatched the bird in front of him. "Attacking well armed strangers is not something that the long-lived make a habit of."
Balio: 45
Bird next to Lokhir: 37
Delroy curses and then once more heads back towards the stage with Eliara. Eirnar steps back and heals himself, Balio not attacking him. Lokhir strikes out at the bird in front of him. He just barely manages to hit it three times, but the bird manages to stay standing. It now looks as though a stiff breeze would knock it over. Eliara laughs, "Such big words for someone struggling with one of my pets."
Balio and Balimar don't attack, but they do move to stand behind Kaldwell.
Putting himself between the two who surrendered (and truly hoping they weren't about to shank him on the back) and the murderous bird that had tried to freeze his bones, but it seemed like the best way to deal with the thing was to destroy it. His swords were out, his style adopted, and he identified what he knew about the birds before he set to destroying it.
Yattle ducks away from the cockatrice, blasting great gouts of flame at Eliara and her bird.
Lokhir mentally shrugged, feeling alright with the woman underestimating them. He dispatched the bird with another flurry of blows.
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Balio: 45
Eliara: 24? + 10 + 24
Kaldwell strikes out at the bird in front of him, only managing to hit twice but still able to deal enough damage to knock it out. Meanwhile Yattle blasts at Eliara and the practically-dead-on-its-feet-anyway bird next to her. The bird is fried as Eliara
While we're in a spoiler, you've also been Charm Monstered. Since success/failure would change what Eliara would tell her pets to do, I went ahead and rolled for you.
Delroy then steps forward and lashes out twice at the woman, hitting her once. Eliara simply smiles as she turns towards him, looking over his shoulder at the fey. "My dear, why do you fight me? With such power I do believe we could be fast friends. You, me, and my pets." With a wave, the bird that had been next to Yattle moves away, flying at Eirnar instead. It's not very effective, but the bird that moved up next to Kaldwell does manage to scratch him with its beak.
Lokhir then moved forward, landing a solid hit on the woman.
"I find your pets most disagreeable," Kaldwell muttered as the damned thing pecked him and he once again felt a ghost of the ache and stiffness from his old body in his bones.
He decided to try and take this one out too.
Their temper piqued by Eliara's unexpected resilience, Yattle draws their power together in a great rumbling blast that coats the lamia in searing magma, the conjured earth holding the Gathlain's fire even bereft of magic.
***
Kaldwell takes down another bird as completely surprised by a sudden blast from Yattle, Eliara falls to the ground, dead in another waxy mass. The group manages to make short work of the one remaining fowl as Balio and Balimar continue to lurk around.
With a growl, Delroy mutters, "Mebbe if I hurry, I can still catch that brat with my flask..." and runs off outside.
In the silence that ensues, Balimar speaks up, "So, a play for each of you, yes? Obviously the small one's will be something about fire. What would the rest of you like?"
Once more Lokhir had to acknowledge the raw power that Yattle commanded. Even with another century of practice he didn't think that he could reach such destructive potential. Turning towards Balimar, Lokhir said "I am much more interested in answers than entertainment. If we are all done with murderous intentions, perhaps you would be willing to speak with us civilly?"
"Information would be a preference," Kaldwell agreed, rolling his shoulders and looking after Delroy. That seemed...weird. Presumably he'd be back once he found his flask. "If needed, them I wish for my play to be one that answers all the questions I shall be asking."
Information... and your token. We need it to save another...
Yattle shook their head ruefully. "Trying to force an offer into shape like that is exactly what makes us try even harder to twist it against you, Kaldwell."
Despite Yattle's protests, Balimar's wooden face seems to light up at the idea. "Yes! The play is the thing! In which I will capture the truth of the thing!" He and Balio immediately dash onto stage, striking a dramatic pose. "Forsoothe fair stranger. Thou hast rightly seen through-eth mine illusions. Pray tell, what questions doth thou have-est. Speak, for I am bound to listen!" The words are weirdly accented and it almost sounds like he's reading his lines from some invisible script. If his acting is half as good as his play writing...the complete lack of other patrons and rather abandoned appearance of the theatre suddenly makes a lot more sense.
Balimar looks a little disappointed that he will not be playing out some kind of Q&A play and sulkily hands over his token: a dazzlingly beautiful diamond known as the White Lily. When held close to the other four tokens the group has acquired, it seems to pull very gently to the North.
The group heads north in the direction the tokens seemed to be indicating, resting briefly before heading out into the vegetationless dunes that stretch as far as the eye can see. Moving through this area is not as easy as traveling through the Briar with the help of the Harrowing deck's magic. The sand is ever shifting and without the tree cover, the sun beats mercilessly down. It shines bright but sickly and yellow.
It soon becomes clear that while the tokens certainly weren't pulsing randomly, they aren't exactly reliable yet. They pulse for a while, maybe a few minutes or maybe an hour, and then go dark for several longer hours. Sometimes when they reactivate they are still pointing in the same direction while other times the direction has shifted quite significantly. All the while, the Trackless Dearth remains the same.
After a couple of days, there's finally something new to be seen: a cloud of dust in the distance. Moving closer to check it out, you eventually see a small desert tornado. Or at least, relatively small. It's still large enough to pick up a large half-man, half-horse and toss him around, which it seems to be doing repeatedly. The centaur is starting to look rather bruised and bloody as he yells at it to quit. The wind simply blows back.
Kaldwell blinked in surprise. "Is...is the wind drunk?" the half-el...orc asked the others. "It sounds drunk," he added.
Looking at the Centaur, he called, "Excuse us for interrupting, but do you need help?"
Eirnar calls out to his group Any of you speak wind?
Eirnar calls to the centaur If you can come to us, maybe we can rectify this situation and I can soothe those wounds.
.
"Out of all of the languages that I have learned, I never though to learn how to speak wind." Lokhir sighed. "But if the wind is drunk, then I assume you are talking to an elemental."
"Yeah makes sense. I'll see if I can distract the drunk wind."
Yattle flits over towards the whirlwind, "Hey! See if you can grab me! I'm way more fun then a centaur 'cause I can fly back!"
The centaur looks over are Kaldwell yells at him. His face briefly lights up as he responds, "Yes! For the love of the gods, yes! This stupid thing won't stop-" He's cut off abruptly as he's once more picked up by the Huge creature, yelping in pain as he's battered and flung about in whirling creature.
Hearing Yattle's yell, the whirlwind pauses briefly, making more whistling noises. With the centaur still trapped within it starts to zig-zag in the group's general direction in a manner that looks surprisingly similar to a drunken man's stagger. Despite that, two things immediately become clear. The first is that it is much faster than the small fey spirit. The second is that it's probably going to be right up in their small woodland face in a half dozen or so seconds.
Meanwhile, the familiar light from Eirnar's tattoo fades away and sinks into the sand surrounding the group.
Eirnar worries about the implications of a huge whirlwind and casts freedom of movement on himself so he can at least get to his allies, or the centaur, to try to keep them amongst the living.
Wincing at the sudden screaming wind, Kaldwell called to the others, "Whatever is here wants to dance!" He paused, and shouted back to the wind in Auran, <"Hello! If you calm down for a moment, perhaps we can do some dancing. But right now your wind is making it a challenge to stand, let alone waltz!>"
2 rounds
The mighty whirlwind stops short of enveloping the small fey creature as the body of the funnel leans one way and then another. <"You don't need to schandddd. I can lead. Like with Jocob, scheee?"> The creature continues to spin the poor centaur around in its less than gentle version of the Vienesse waltz. By this point, Jocob is looking quite the worse for wear as he weakly attempts to struggle his way out of spinning, dizzing wind to no avail. Blood flowing freely from one nose and numerous bruises all over his body from the battering about, he looks close to passing out.
Meanwhile Yattle's tattoo fades and the whirlwind seems to spin just a tad slower, though still not slow enough for the centaur to escape.
Well...crap. "He's going to need healing," Kaldwell told the others as he moved to try and grab the centaur and get him out of danger. Of course, the centaur was much larger than the fighter was, but that was a problem for another time.