Eirnar hastily rouses from the bed as he opens his eyes.
Honorable my ass!
Eirnar curses his now present foe's fate, hoping to avoid the worst of the blade.
Kaldwell rose, lacking any real surprise at this turn of events. Still unarmored, he got into his fighting stance anyway and prepared to fight. "I have no idea why you're here, but this is not a wise move. Stand down."
Despite the hefty blow from Yattle, Algon remains standing.
"I have been charged by my god to defeat the Patchwork Lord no matter what. You have made it clear you intend to stand in my way. If you will not give me the tokens, I have no choice but to take them by force. I may die, but if I were to surrender, my soul would be damned for forsaking my god."
"Well, at least we know not to ask you to give up, I guess."
With a sigh Lokhir swung his sword through the air, causing it to shoot to life with arcane energy. Twirling spirals of ice and fire danced across the blade, while the elf looked the man in the eyes.
”Last chance. You don’t have to die.”
If it's death that you want, so be it. We could of been good allies in this quest, Eirnar says with a sigh.
=>40
1
Algon moves to take cover from Yattle behind some trees.
With a sigh, Lokhir took a step and then...sprinted. Given the spell that he had already cast, the elf moved with blinding speed as he zoomed around the man, slashing with his blade as he did so. While the blade itself was not as well placed as it could have been, a mixture of momentum and enchantments meant that it still did considerable damage.
Well, this wasn't ideal. Still, if the man was going to press the issue...Kaldwell moved forward, judging just what the knightly figure was.
"Hiding really isn't going to do it. Running away might?"
Kaldwell moved forward, getting into position on one side of the man. Even with his enhanced speed and lack of armor to burder him down, that was about all he could do. Lokhir then rushed into place, lashing out at the man, with his enhanced speed just barely managing to get in position on the other side of the half-orc.
There's a grunt of pain as Yattle sees a spurt of fire but not much else. Seeing that his allies have gone to him, Eirnar rushed forward with his extra speed and attempted to hex the man's ability to strike.
The man then moves, unleashing his own fury on the leader who insisted upon standing in the way of his holy mission. Though in his rage, only one blow lands. Despite his annoyance, he still has the presence of mind to keep his tree between himself and the fae when he tries to move to a better location.
1) Yattle's attack did not seem as effective as it normally was
2) Before your very eyes, some of his wounds healed, though it did not appear this was due to a spell or anything.
"Resistant to fire and heals himself?" Lokhir mused, as he launched another attack from behind the man. "All the more reason to make this as quick as possible."
Eirnar chants to extend the hex and tries to further weaken Algon's resolve.
"Yeah well, I bet where he doesn't burn he crushes!"
Yattle flits closer, gathering a crust of rocky earth to fling at their foolish foe!
Weathering the hit Kaldwell sighed. "We tried, at least." Kaldwell fought back.
With the combined onslaught from everybody, Algon finally goes down, a grim smile on his face as he falls. "I go to be eternally with my god." In addition to his full plate armor, heavy steel shield, longsword, and masterwork throwing axe, he seems to have some dust of appearance and 57gp.
The group goes back to sleep, the middle of the night interruption delaying them somewhat. The next day they travel past the empty remains of the Midnight Circus, passing a few more bodies as they head towards the Smith's Caldera. The azers once more throw rocks at the group as they mount the stairs but their jeers and stones are once more avoided. One of the doors has been partially repaired while the other remains vacant. Voricose gives the group a wary look as they go past but otherwise doesn't disturb them. In the next room there's no more sign of the fire giant who had been raving about the affront to giant-kind and boards had been placed in a serviceable criss-cross fashion over the sinkhole where the massive head once poked out.
Making their way through, the man in the green cloak once more jumps as the group enters before calling out. "So, did you bring me my grubs? Or have you been corrupted by that damn weaver and come to kill me? I'll not go quietly!"
"Neither," Kaldwell replied, sighing a little as he reached for the coin. "We have come to pay you in gold so you can acquire the materials you need that way." He held the coin out. Hopefully the smith hadn't changed there mind.
"Well then, put it on the table and then back up. Once I see it's all there, I'll place my token down and take the money with me. Once I've backed off, you can approach again to take it and then begone. I have a lot of work to do, y'know. Some idiot blew up the moon and it'll take forever to make a new one! Assuming I even have the time. Things are barely holding together as it is!"
Lokhir shrugged. "Such trust." Taking the gold, he walked over and put it on the table. Then with his hands in the air, he slowly backed away.
Kaldwell eyed the smith, hoping he was on the up and up.
Yattle was unconcerned. If they double cross us we'll just melt them until the token pops out.
As soon as the smith left Kaldwell approached the table, hoping that the lenses were exactly what they seemed. Picking them up, he looked to the others. "Perhaps we should retire somewhere else and see what happens when we put them all together?" If it was real then it should work, and if not the others would show them where the real one was.
"Agreed. Our host looks uncomfortable with our presence, and it would be poor social etiquette to overstay our welcome." Lokhir replied, keeping one eye on the man hiding behind the spokes of the large gear.
The group left the forge, finding someplace private to put the pieces together. Once together, the set seemed to vibrate and pull further East to the Trackless Dearth once more. As they stood examining it, the direction seemed to change every so slightly. It seemed they finally had enough tokens to lead them to the Striding Fortress where they believed the lost scholar Meloigne Garracy was being kept, hopefully still alive.
After a few days of travel, the group spies in the an unsettlingly yet regal fusion of masonry and mechanics. This citadel of white stone and gleaming bronze marches proudly through the desert dunes on a pair of massive, 60 foot tall legs. The castle itself appears to be a little under a hundred feet across.
"Well, that is rather more...more...more than I was expecting," Kaldwell murmured, at a loss for words. Still, it was hard to think that such a fortress wouldn't be prepared for an aerial assault. It was effectively the only way to attack it while it was in motion, as climbing the legs would be...challenging as they moved.
"Just like out of a story." Lokhir muttered. Then, more loudly he said "Shall we fly the rest of the way? As much as I understand the need for exercise, walking all the way is more than I am comfortable with."
"We might be able to sneak up on it behind some of those dunes, but I'm always up for a frontal assault!"
From where he was standing, Kaldwell did not see any obvious signs of defenses. While the legs did look potentially climbable, it was unclear what the purpose would be unless the group also cared to scale the outside of the castle walls. The most obvious point of entry was a platform near the front; it was the only obvious place to land if you didn't want to perch on one of the towers or slanting roof.
"I think it's safe to fly up," Kaldwell said slowly. "If we can get up there safely then we should be able to do this 'kick down the door' style, if that's what would work best."
Speaking words of arcane power, Lokhir slowly floated into the air, his feet inches above the ground. "I'm ready. Fly low to the ground for as long as possible and then we go up to that platform near the front. This should keep us out of sight for as long as possible. And even if they do see us, they might not expect us to rise into the air instead of climbing the walls."
"Easy enough!"
The group stays low and then flies more or less directly upwards, landing on the platform they had spotted earlier. Brilliant banners of a splendid variety of colors flutter in this picturesque courtyard of white flagstones and carefully tended gardens. A large set of double doors swing loosely back and forth with each step the giant castle takes. On the other side of the doors, the courtyard continues with four large, ugly humanoid creatures appear to be working on drills. A top one of them is a malformed-looking little man. At the group's sudden appearance, the man suddenly yells, "Intruders! Show them your mettle, my little 'volunteers'!"
Yattle drifts forward to meet their foes, clenching their fist to send fire erupting across the back ranks.
Even as one creature falls, another simply picks up the small man as they all rush forward, quickly moving to surround, as best they could, the party. The small deformed man laughs gleefully as he strikes out against Eirnar with his flail.
Well, this might have been easier if they'd just waited for Yattle to clear the platform, but it would have been loud. Moving closer to engage the closest enemy, Kaldwell shifted into his Kirin stance but would have to read the enemy in a momenyt.
Yattle spirals up and over the oncoming brute, clearing plenty of room to blast away in peace!
Lokhir had to admit that his plan did not go off exactly as expected. But it was too late for regrets. The elf, flanking the center most of the foes, took his blade and plunged it into the tower's brute's side. With one hand gripping the enemy, the other stabbed again and again, as the elf tried to get the blade into the kidneys.
Yattle manages to nimbly dodge the swing of a club as Kaldwell takes down the foe closest to him. Lokhir grievously injures his own opponent, but the giant creature doesn't quite fall. With slightly more breathing room, Eirnar takes a step away and attempts to impede the little man's ability to strike.
The enemies change their tactics, instead deciding to focus on the surrounded Lokhir. While the two larger enemies both miss, the smaller man on their back manages to hit just once thanks to Eirnar's hex.
The elf frowned, as the large foe didn't go down when stabbed. He decided that the problem was that he just hadn't stepped enough times or hard enough So he set about rectifying the situation.
Kaldwell moved up behind the second monster and attacked again.
Yattle cheerfully ignores the big brutes and lobs a gout of magma to engulf their leader!
With a single blow, Lokhir takes out the giant next to him, redirecting his second attack to the leader, who he manages to finish between himself and Kaldwell's attacks. Their target now no longer there, Yattle redirects their blast to the final giant, incinerating it and leaving the group alone in the courtyard.
There seem to be 3 ways to enter the castle from here: two doors one to the north and one to the south and then a massive set of double doors to the west.
Yattle waits for the others to follow them before opening the door to the south, listening intently at it while they arrive.
”Well done, everyone. With any luck they didn’t have time to raise the alarm. Let’s push forward before we are discovered and they can mount a proper defense.” Lokhir said, cleaning his blade as he followed Yattle.