Finlogan had already glimpsed the result of his fires, even the moment it left his hand. The minor prophecy became actualized as the ball of plasma scorched into the spirit.
The ball of flame only seemed to intensify the barbarian's attacks, as if some primal response to fire had sent his will over the edge...causing him to lash out with instinctual fury. The ghost did not last long, nor could it offer any resistance against the magic of of his maul.
The Damaran seemed unstoppable, bounding across the retainment cells to crash into the next life draining force that dared to enter his domain.
Lindaer, the black circles around his eyes starting to flush red again, whips out with the vorpal blade full of crackling energy, catching the wraith on its tatters...
Lindaer 35/121
Szasa 41/78 (drained, 8/9 motes)
Falko 120/175
Green 99/120
Yellow 76/120
White 91/120
Purple 72/120
Red 100/120
Orange (defeated)
Blue (defeated)
Cyan (defeated)
The wraith encroaching on Lindaer struck back, its form still reverberating with the sonic energies of his magic. Meanwhile he watched as at his side, Daryl attempted to fend off another swooping dive at his heart...
+15 Con save
...bringing the cleric within inches of death.
Falko's foe turned, its white eyes locked within the shroud of darkness, almost with an expression of puzzlement at the screaming, sweaty man...
+15 Con save
...clawing at the muscles as they flailed wildly all over.
Finally in Szasa's corner of the battle, she readied another abjurative dweomer as the wraiths fell into her like a waterfall...
+15 Con save
...but her casting wasn't fast enough, and the first attack broke through before it could fully materialize.
Daryl reaches out and touches Lindear giving him back 60 points of healing (Lay on Hands 60/85)
...and the same was apparently true of undead heads. When the cunning blade passed through the essence, it was as if a thin glass rod had been snapped -- the wraith's head separated and vanished in a puff of gas.
Thanks, was worried that it was lower.
Concerned about squeezing a Brontosaurus into the cell block and observing his companions are more effective than his production of flame, he shouts an elven command word causing a line of purple to jump from his right hand and explode around some of the wraiths.
The wraith nearest Falko suddenly bursts alight with a purple glow, like the shadow under a mushroom in a fey forest, as he continues to pummel it further...
With another wraith sent back to the abyss, Tarn glides forward with a flourish of his rapier. As the wraith before him lights up with fae colored light, a giant arrow flashing 'Stab me here!' that guides the goblins blade as he lets out a gleeful laugh.
"Ahahahah! Die foul shade of the netherworld. Return to your grave and bother this world no more."
Szasa gestured, and one of the stars orbiting her head slammed into Yellow.
She then called down thunder on White and Green.
The goblin never let an opportunity pass, running up to engage the coolly glowing ghost and send it back to the shadows. At the same time, Szasa was unleashing thunder and blinding flashes like a storm in the night sky...
...but the shock waves she initiated were sent coursing through materials the creatures were insubstantial towards. Before the wraiths could gloat, another star was plucked from her crown and sent smashing into the undead form.
The wraith struggling with Daryl dares to follow him closer to the dragon guardian...
...getting a biting retort as the mysterious draconic warrior, for a moment resembling the black-scaled form of Strychik Ozon to the faithful, the wraith nonetheless presses in for an attack.
...but the paladin's defenses were ready, being honed by the experiences of millennia of paladins before him that had trained for such attacks.
The other wraiths continue to pick away at the lady of storms...
+15 con save
...again her defenses springing outwards just a second too late.
Stepping up next to Falko, Tarn stabs his blade into the next wraith and swirls it like a swizzle stick in a cocktail to slice at any remaining bits and pieces that could be important to the creatures continued existence.
Falko stepped up and broke the barrier between life and death with the magic of his maul...just where did he get that terrible weapon? His second attack missed, but by the look in his face it didn't even register. The wraith dared to yet move, but Tarn was quick to notice and snuffed out its final wisps with a flick of his bartender's wrist.
Lindaer cut away at the last ghost on the other side of the battlefield, and for a moment it seemed like the battle was nearly won...
With the fight with the hornets almost complete, Finlogan moves forward hurls another palm of fire to distract one of the wraith in melee with Daryl.
Szasa gestured at Red, and another star streaked towards it.
Not wanting to continue the trend, Szasa will decide to focus on defense.
Another of Szasa's stars burrow through the spirit as it starts to flicker, its connection to this realm tenuous...
Finlogan dashes next to Szasa. With an Elven command word and glowing hand, the hierophant restores some vitality to the storm personified.
+DC 15 Con
A few last lazy attacks seemed no problem for the mistress of Storm, but Lindaer in his weakened state felt himself pulled further towards the grave. If they could just hold on a little bit longer...
Yeah, I just went back and I definitely goofed up somewhere:
Round
1. Szasa hit twice (26, 23) saved twice 72/121
2. Daryl healed Szasa for 12. Szasa crit (43) saved once 41/121
3. Szasa hit once (16) and saved 25/121
4. Szasa hit once (28) and saved 0/121??
5. Szasa not hit, Fin healed for 80 80/121??
Lets just go with hp you currently have in profile, its no big deal. Looks like I reduced from the crit for some reason, even though save was success. 84/121
The wraith seems to obey Falko's command despite the language barrier, fading back into negatives.
With Szasa not endanger of dying, Fin pulls out a pinch of diamond dust and reverses the wraith's effects.
Lindaer hacked away relentlessly at the ghost like an explorer through thick jungles.
Daryl, now confident that the others were probably going to survive this encounter, swings his might warpick at the remaining beast.
To Hit
Smack (Standard damage, sacrifice 2nd level slot for divine strike, and one more for undead).
"Begone foul creature".
With the final strike of Daryl's pick, the cold haunting fades and the warm, clammy feeling of the pyramid returns. While the encounter answered no questions about this place one thing seems clear...there is danger at every turn.
"Should take a breather before continuing? Before we burn some healing magic?" Finlogan asks for short rest,
"I wonder if those were the ghost of the people Falko saw earlier." Tarn speculates while sheathing his sword and poking through any undead remains. "Perhaps their evil deed of attacking the helpless woman stained their souls and made them victims of...whatever this is." His hand waves around at the walls of this strange pyramid he finds himself in.
Not really knowing an answer he eventually shrugs and offers a wide, toothy grin to Falko. "A fine combination we made between maul and blade, wouldn't you say?" The goblin pauses for a moment gazing hard at the barbarian. "You seem a bit pale. Kind of like Lindaer over there. Are you feeling well?"
A slow rhythmic thumping from inside the walls keeps you from all but the lightest rest, really just catching your breath and shaking the goosebumps out of your skin as the cold of manifest undeath passes.
Further on to the south, you notice near the other black mass the same strange orcish 'B' along with the Tears of Selune constellation is marked nearby. It was not hastily done, someone took their time to mark minor details in the pattern as if it mattered.
Tarn's waits for the others to recover and catch their breath. Once all are ready he walks toward the second door marked with the orcish lettering and pokes it open.
The darkness at the end of the south hall again proves to be actual material, flinching at the goblins quick and somewhat merciless 'poke'. In a flash, the black mass recedes soaring into the vaulted ceiling recesses of the great chamber beyond.
A library? A museum? Neither is quite right, but the repository of knowledge that now lays before you is nearly infinite in span. Shelf after shelf of cases stuffed with exceedingly large tomes run on and on here. It would likely take multiple lifetimes to grasp the information in even a small fraction of this catalog...though you might try.
Grabbing one just at random, the book proves to be quite heavy along with its unusual girth...perhaps 25 lbs and 2 ft or more a side. The language matches that of the stone dais: Ancient Netherese.
A bit more exploration reveals that there are two main sections, one to the east and one to the west...distinct in the strange sigils and markings labeling their bindings. To the south is a truly massive book spread open on a gigantic pedestal, with a cover of stone and pages spanning 6 or 7 ft tall.
Not a library denizen, Finlogan wanders the tomes checking the titles for anything interesting. He casts Guidance on himself every minute and touches the books to activate his Helm of Comprehend Languages.
Fin decides to check the eastern wing, and after a bit of cross-referencing, concludes that each set of shelves is dedicated to a single school of magic. However, necromancy is notably absent. Additionally, a similarity in each set is that the final tomes of a group have a lightly carved symbol that looks like a crystal or diamond.
Using the translating abilities of the helm, and running hands over the old text, Fin sees that these End tomes contain details on incredibly complex arcane rituals...namely those to create sentient items. As impossible as it may be, these formulae would never be contained mentally...even within a mnemonic for 9th level spells. Could it really possible these are 10th level spells? If so, they would be incredibly dangerous to the outside world.
These crystal labelled End tomes have titles like Adjustments for This School Pre-Battery, Incorporating the Battery, and Post-Battery Findings. There is a set of three for each school of magic (again, with the exception of necromancy).
Finally, in this eastern section Fin finds a much smaller set of books specially marked with a magical sigil that doesn't match any known school. The entire facility seems to shudder as you idly take one from the shelf. One of these three books has the same crystal symbol as the other school's End tomes. They seem to be incredibly advanced, but aren't spellbooks. Rather, they bear notes, proof-of-concept experiment reports, and personal observations. The tome bearing the crystal icon for this unknown school holds findings that are described as incredibly exciting, with each object in the trials imbibed with exactly the desired properties and many more...but then abruptly on the fourth page it simply says "Experiments terminated by order of the Council."