Gaétan and the Hypnales tear apart the shadow that was foolish enough to remain in the room with everyone, but rather than intimidate the others, yet more stream forth from the walls, one of them setting off another symbol of death, though Agata's ward keeps the last symbol intact.
Tally's speed and Arillia's abjurations keep them both safe, but some of Gaétan's strength is leeched away by the grasping shadows!
In the wake of the shadows, their master comes, finally partly visible as it enters the flickering illumination of Agata's ring.
It's an immense worm, covered with plates of dead-black, chitinous armor. Its toothy maw yawns like a cave, unleashing a torrent of frigid wind into the room as it stretches forward to chomp down on the witch!
Zadeh
Hypnales (Red has a Fort Save vs. Death, then an AoO at Blue Shadow)
Gaétan - Hasty, 5 str damage
Marcus - Hasty
Greater Shadows (Yellow -43)
Nightcrawler!!
Agata -124/183 Hasty, Freedom of Movement if she's not dead!
Arillia - Hasty
Tally -37, 2 Negative Levels May be restored, Hasty
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"Desna's Drawers! A Nightshade! Don't let these buggers fool you - they may look like bugs, but they're actually highly intelligent. An undead beast from another plane... Hmmm, Arillia I wonder if you could control it...? Don't bother with cold, and it might resist our spells. Its aura desecrates and it can channel negative energy. They hate bright light. And don't let 'em swallow you!"
Agata had moved up to see the source of the rumbling but, before she can retreat, she is reminded of why she is not supposed to be scouting!
Fortunately, the old elf is surprisingly sprightly and she dodges entirely out of the way of the blast of cold.
She is not so lucky when it comes to the beast's bite, however, as it chomps down on her with remarkable force!
Somehow, the withered crone survives (barely) the tremendous chompers of the massive undead bug from another plane of existence! A small talisman at her neck crumbles into dust and she somehow slips out of the grip of its fearsome mandibles.
The red hypnalis dies horribly.
The two remaining creatures strike out at blue.
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Gaétan feels his strength being absorbed by the shadows' attack. No bull strength. And a damage done. Luckly, Agatha and her anti-incorporal shell came closer.
Erastil and his allys are with me. he prays to himself.
He can only see a little part of this worm. But that is more than enough for him. He use his fire arrows. (14/50 left)
fire
fire
fire
fire
fire
Tally's still got outstanding negative levels, so her max hp is down 10, but she has no remaining wounds to be healed.[/ooc]
Tally weaves among the shadows, brushing past them with casual grace as she puts on a final burst of speed and climbs the Nightcrawler, using the many sizzling handholds that Gaétan has punched into its hide!
Zadeh
Hypnales
Gaétan - Hasty, 5 str damage, 1 Surge used
Marcus - Hasty
Greater Shadows (Yellow -43, Blue -27, Orange -4)
Nightcrawler -279, Retributionable, Climbed!
Agata -71, Hasty, Freedom of Movement
Arillia -2, Hasty
Tally -10, 2 Negative Levels, Hasty
The snake scorches a path through the shadows, obliterating two and sending the others shrinking away from the flames, but it splashes harmlessly against the Nightcrawler's flank.
Zadeh
Hypnales
Gaétan - Hasty, 5 str damage, 1 Surge used
Marcus - Hasty
Greater Shadows (Orange -25, Purple -42, Green -21)
Nightcrawler -279, Retributionable, Climbed!
Agata -71, Hasty, Freedom of Movement
Arillia - Hasty
Tally -10, 2 Negative Levels, Hasty
The deva raises its morning star and strikes at the abomination.
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At last, the ritual reaches a critical point, With the ritual’s anchoring stones disrupted and its guardians slain, the Pillar struggles in vain to stop its magic from collapsing. The Pillar trembles, and a psychic scream echoes through the minds of everyone within Gallowspire. The lasts wisps of magic drift away from the pillar’s surface, filling the room with a quiet fog. The taste of corruption fades from the air.
Utter silence falls, as if all the air in Gallowspire has been drawn away by the inhalation of some massive being. But the peace does not last for long. The stillness is broken a moment later by a titanic crack. Fissures form in the walls, and the ground shifts. Silently, a pitch-black nothingness begins to ooze forth from the newly formed cracks in the walls, floors, and ceilings. The cracks spread with supernatural speed, reaching out like grasping fingers to tear the dungeons to pieces. In the Black Caverns, small rocks begin to rain down from above. Gallowspire is falling apart!
Marcus's strikes are enough to dispel another shadow, but sadly the Deva is unable to break through the nightcrawler's defenses with its holy mace...
Still thwarted by Agata's shell, the shadows turn to Marcus for revenge, but the ifrit dodges their grasping touch with blistering speed!
The nightcrawler hangs back, inky shadow once more engulfing it as Agata backs away, and it turns its grim attentions to Tally! It tears into her body with spiteful hate, Agata's hex tearing open great rents in its form until it too lies destroyed!
Zadeh
Deva
Gaétan - Hasty, 5 str damage, 1 Surge used
Marcus -8, Hasty AoOs at both shadows
Greater Shadows (Orange -25, Purple -42, Green -21)
Agata -71, Hasty, Freedom of Movement
Arillia - Hasty
Tally -121, 2 Negative Levels, Hasty, grabbed, Fort Save or poisoned and and 1 negative level
With the monstosity dead the Deva flies forward to Tally. It places one glowing hand on her, soothing the wounds she has just received.
The shadows are torn apart in a flurry of fangs, force and Gaétan's fusilade!
But Tally looks very unsteady on her feet...
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Tally opens her eyes and groans loudly before hacking up a bunch of black goop.
Keeps some space? Not my style.
“Marcus, if I don’t keep throwing myself at whatever pops it’s head out of the ground, how will I keep making you look good?”
She tries to smile wryly but grimaces and holds her side as she hesitantly attempts to stand.
“Although, to your point, I feel like I’m having the worst hangover in my life. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going. Maybe after this...maybe I should keep my distance from...from any more adventures.”
Tally manages a wink and a chuckle while she makes a pained bow to the rogue.
“I just can’t keep meeting men like this anymore. It’s very unladylike.”
Stalactites riddled with fingers of negative energy begin raining from the ceiling as the entire area shakes treacherously once more. It is clear that the time to go is now!
Leading the rearguard in the escape, you're all too aware that the Whispering Tyrant's spiteful hate is without limits as hordes of weaker undead keep pouring out of the cracks in the walls, grasping for the more vulnerable Pathfinders ahead of you!
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Zadeh moves into the midst of the group and raises his hands to start casting a spell. He stops, sighs, and drops them. Well, I was planning on just teleporting us all back to the Grand Lodge and having Nymeria make us tea and muffins but it looks like the others still need our help to get out.
Drawing on his remaining reserves of magical energy he casts spell after spell. Each time he breathes out a cloud of glowing purple smoke which forms itself into a beautiful, magical horse. Take these, they will speed your escape he says.
He turns and dives back into the Black Caverns, swooping through them invisibily. As more and more undead come pouring out and look to savage the junior Pathfinders he starts sealing off the tunnels with walls of stone to leave them trapped down here forever. Perhaps one day he will return, when his reserves are recovered, and send wave after wave of earth elementals through the walls to finish them off.
For today however, containment will suffice.
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Marcus runs along, every lash of his whip precise in the scrum to evacuate. He pauses periodically to jam side passages shut when they look to be disgorging nothing but undead. At one point a got of flame shoots from his hand.
He waves the members of the society forward.
Let's go! Let's go! All we can do now is hope it was enough.
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And after... There only one arrow.
Facing an horde of ghoul that threaten a group ,. Gaétan switch for an ordinary longsword. His attacks are swift but there no strength in them even if he uses two hands. They are too many.
I am sure i could do more damage, with using my bow alone!
He switchs tatics. He takes anything he can find on his hands and throws it. A apple became a bullet in his hands. Even if one is able to hit him, (a rare occasion) his elven blood protects him.
During the escape, a priest of Desna casts him abundant ammunition and wish him good luck. He is followed by musclebound Librarian who wield a scythe who look strangely like the Grim Reaper had. Did he took it from his corpse?
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Arillia launched another Fireball into a massed crowd of zombies and ghouls, incinerating the weak undead. The smell was atrocious. "Pull back!" she shouted to a motley crew of Pathfinders she had gathered during the escape. These still looked combat-worthy, while the rest she had sent on ahead. "We didn't see that lot of ghouls again yet. They'll attack from another angle."
The fight in the last few rooms had gone well, but she couldn't allow her new crew to get overconfident. This was a fighting withdrawal now, nothing more. There was nothing to win except escape.
Agata and the others had moved off to help other groups of Pathfinders. It's hard to see them go after a hard fight like this, but they can handle themselves.
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A few minutes later, Arillia's band of Pathfinders was in dire straits. Every one of them had fought well, but there were just so many undead. Their withdrawal had bogged down when fighting behind them clogged the stairs with wounded and exhausted Pathfinders trying to force their way out. She could clear the way ahead, but only if she could reach it. And with the chaotic situation in the staircase, that would mean abandoning her small group of fighters.
"Go. They need you. We all do," a dwarf grunted as he cleaved the head off another ghoul with his axe and shoved a zombie aside with his shield. She couldn't remember his name, but she thought he was from the Runeaxe clan.
"Can you hold?" Arillia asked him as she finished the incantation for an attack spell.
"We'll hold a lot better without you than we will if we never get up those stairs. And besides...you are all but done now anyway."
She had hoped he hadn't noticed, but the dwarf was right. She felt a strange aching in her gut that was hard to explain. She wasn't tired and her stomach wasn't troubled. But her magic was low...painfully so. A crazy elf wizard had tried to explain it to her once.
Arillia nodded. If she was going to leave, there was no time to waste. She began reciting her chant for declaring her destination and stepped between worlds into the room above.
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Gaétan, once again, is in need of arrows. When he saves a group of pathfinders, he asks if there any quivers free to give it him. Sometimes, he needs to remind them he is a Venture-Captain.
At one time, a black-cladded women gave it to him a bag of shurikens. After test, Gaétan realised that that they were more useful to him than using a sword.
Note to myself, Suggest very hard to Marcus that the new martial Agent should be able to be a little more good to all type of weapon. Fighters should be at least trained to those exotic weapons.
As he goes to save an another group of pathfinder. He meets a flying elf. Wearing the Silver crusade, He was cursing at something.
" What Happening? "asks Gaétan.
" I am out of spell! I am as useful as a branch!" he says angry to himself.
Note to myself, pressures Sorinna to find a way that this situation never happens again.
"Well, I am like you!Cheers Gaétan.I am an archer without arrows!
I see that you were Silver Crusade. I am sorry for Ollysta."
The second time has less impact then the first time. I know, I was there also."The elf responds.
Well, you know what to do. Killing yourself in the present will not help others in the future."
The elf nods and than depart.
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Tally feels tapped and has a hard time keeping pace with the retreating pathfinders. She spots a retreating barbarian in the crowd, a woman with an absolutely massive sword keeping the many groups moving and jumps up on the barbarian's shoulders, spreading her wings out and interposing herself between the Pathfinder and the claws of many ghouls.
"Keep moving, I've got your back!"
She throws herself in front of several attacks and uses her wings to parry more. Tally uses the retreating Pathfinders as stepping stones to find squads struggling to escape within this massive withdrawal and uses her body as a literal meat shield to protect them. She keeps moving further and further down into the rearguard of the frantic flight out of Gallowspire but finally the last pair of legs escapes the combat zone. Overcome with relief, she falls off the shoulders of an heavily armored fighter and collapses face first on the ground.
"I"m just...give me a minute. Give me a minute."
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Agata's ears perk up when she hears of the plans to have tea and muffins back at the Grand Lodge, but they droop when she sees that teatime has been deferred yet again.
All around her, pathfinders are battling against hordes of ghouls and mummies and zombies and other monstrosities. She should help them, she knows, but the rumbling in her stomach cannot be denied. I wonder if they would all consider pausing for a few moments, just long enough to have a proper snack. It would be a nice touch of civilization... But as Agata looks around her, she realizes that such niceties are not for this crowd. Indeed, even the undead themselves, many of them, are still young and immature compared to the old crone.
She sighs, scratches her haunches, lets out a loud fart, and announces to any who are listening as the battle rages about her, "Right then. Ole Agata's goin' fer tea, whether ye will or no. Out o' me way!"
She reaches out her bony hands and begins to push the ghouls and zombies aside, and, mindless though they are, many of them begin to fall back from her in panic! Whether the creatures of the grave are genuinely afraid of the witch, or whether her hygenic "quirks" are too much for even them, or whether they simply feel an unbearable chill in her bony hands' touch, these questions are left to the bards who will come later to make songs about this day, but what is undeniable is that, as Gallowspire falls, the Whispering Tyrant's undead minions, first by one and two, and then in groups, and finally in a mindless stampede, flee as if panicked, by the tender caresses of one elderly elf, who just wants a refreshing cup of tea.
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Through the terrible dark and palpable evil of the dungeons of Gallowspire, the expedition fights its way to the surface. The earth beneath and around them continues to shake, and undead monstrosities continue to fight, but the Pathfinders are implacable in their progress. Finally, after many more hours, the dim light of day greets the surviving Pathfinders who emerge from the outskirts of the Gallowgarden. Most show signs of desperate battle and deep exhaustion. As the light grows and shatters the clearing clouds, a few shouts of congratulations soon become a rousing cheer.
Marcos Farabellus steps forward triumphantly. “My friends, I have never been so proud to call myself a Pathfinder as I am today. Thanks to you, and to everyone who gave their lives to this mission, the world does not need to fear a terrible undead blight. The Whispering Tyrant may be a figure of legend, but you have challenged his plots, and you have emerged victorious. Your bravery and determination stand as a shining example, not just to your fellow agents, but to the world. Let us face the challenges ahead in the same spirit. Let us honor our dead and carry their memory and stories with us as we move forward into a new day. Explore! Report! Cooperate!”