Fisk startled "Good lord, if fending off insults is my assigned task we're doomed, sire." bowing.
Donal looks at the others, Whatever we decide, let us do it now. Our window is closing. Let us move.
Turning to regard the Duke, Donal shoves her head into the floor to knock her unconscious again.
You make your way back around past the prison, stepping lightly on the sidepaths as the effluent tumbles below. The green light of the lanterns casts its shade on the white plaster walls giving everything an eerie glow. But as you turn the last corner...you can see a roving party of 3 to the north coming quickly in your direction.
The party slinks down the dark side passage, which Mal and Simon can see goes on for about 30 ft before dead ending in rubble. There, a few rat traps have been placed and set where the effluent flow stagnates.
The enemy advances, seemingly none the wiser, chatting "...prisoners too are missing, by his telling...where are the dark lords?"
"No sign of the Duke either...did they all just abandon us?" another intones, muffled through his mask.
Donal, placing the Duke against the wall, draws his mace and pulls the man furthest back, covering his mouth (if possible) and brains him!
The warrior priest grins at Donals instinct to action...
*clomp*
The Tormtar's magic mace splatters across the back of one of the unsuspecting cultists. "..ugh, fudge!" is all he manages to exclaim before the ambuscade proceeds flawlessly...
Inits:
Round 1:
Grim, Simon, Don, Mal <--UP
Cultists (surprised)
Attack 1 for
Attack 2 for
- Joy
Mal sneaks up next to a cultist and tries to slide two shortswords into them.
Simon smiles badly, slightly tilting his head. Unkind lights seem to dance in his eyes, and a second later a real fire is reflected in them! It seems that the devil's face on the shield seemed to spit some barely noticeable clot of flame, which, having reached the floor behind the backs of the cultists, turned into a fiery hell with for a few seconds...
Simon smiles.
Grim quickly finishes what Donal started before the masked man can get another word in. He stumbles off the passway and tumbles into the effluent stream lifelessly.
What happens next will be hard to forget. The bejeweled celestial visage on the front of Simon's shield opens its mouth, and everyone wearing metal immediately feels the temperature rise...for within that gaping maw are the very depths of hell.
A thousand lost souls swarm over pools of yellow brimstone alight with hot blue flames. An army of devils thousands strong practice their formation under the shadow of a twisted volcano.
All this visible as the rubies, emeralds, and diamonds of the shield contort and distort into a pair of puckered lips. One of the lost souls finds this portal and screeches the cry of the damned, accelerating right towards it. But once it reaches the planar boundary, it transforms into a pebble sized ball of concentrated energy that quickly streams past the cultists into the darkness beyond.
"Get down!" Fisk screams, but its little use, for the party is already almost knocked off its feet and blown backwards as the heat wave washes over everything.
The first didn't even see it coming, his golden mask painfully melting into his own face just as his torso exploded. The second fares little better, losing an arm that goes flapping off into the distance. In total shock, the singed noble glances at his bloody shoulder, finding not even the energy to cry out in terror.
Mercifully, Donal nudges him into position as Malaric quickly slits his throat.
Simon stops smiling. It works. The voice sounds casual. Violence is not one of those things that I truly love. But sometimes we have to do terrible things to get to know our capabilities more deeply... As he says this, he fits the shield more comfortably on his arm.
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Mal subtly studies Simon with the concern of a potential threat. He wipes his blades and starts dragging the corpses into the deepest shadows of the dead end. Get it?
Simon clearly feels uncomfortable under Mal's gaze. He smiles awkwardly, but quickly stops, realizing that his charm does not work for this halfling (and does it work at all for anyone in this strange sociopathic company?). I'm on your side. The word of a nobleman.
The lady Hhune was awestruck "Yes...behold the hidden strength of our line." emphasizing her ownership, or perhaps utterly confused, thinking it was still her family's shield. "Woe to those that would oppose Thione-Hhune..."
This seemed to cause Fisk to roll his eyes, but he put practicality first and hastily grabbed a still smoldering dagger from one of the fallen.
Reya was watching the shield very closely, having only seen the mouth open from the corner of her eye. At the moment, the gems had already reassembled into their previous form of regal beauty...no sign of the hellscape moments before. She looked at the others with obvious concern, holding her tongue for a moment but finally saying "Here then is the breath of the Duke's weapon...she would probe its mysteries to lead all of Baldur's Gate to ruin. A noblewoman."
That... was something else, Grim says incredulous of what he just witnessed.
Not sure I want to see a repeat performance either.
Deliberately looking at the shield and its wielder, The shield is a deceiver, as I had suspected. Everything in this gods-forsaken city is tainted by the Hells. Simon, be sure that you are in control, for I do not relish relieving you of life if you become a problem.
It was the nicest way anyone had heard Donal ever speak of someone, even despite his grim subject matter...
Shall we move on? the warrior says, shouldering the Duke Vanthampur and preparing to continue.
Donal puts his ear to the riveted iron plates constituting the door, and hears nothing but silence beyond.
Donal replaces his mask and bursts into the room, Quick, those intruders have beaten the Duke and emptied the vault!
Donal's words seemingly find no ears to fill.
Four stone pillars brace the ten-foot-high vaulted ceiling of this dry cellar, the walls of which are lined by a dozen barrels on wooden braces. Half the barrels have brass spigots tapped into them. The room also contains two stacks of wooden crates — one in the middle of the room and another by the south wall.
Cracking the lid on a few crates, you find meat, loaves of bread, wheels of cheese...a fitting noble bounty of foodstuffs, one that could sustain a siege for at least a month. The southern crates contain a number of candles, oil flasks, incense and the ubiquitous rat traps. Half the barrels are potable water, the other half a dark brown ale.
A more thorough search might reveal more. There are stairs leading up to the south, and another door just opposite your entry to the west.
Donal lets out a sigh of relief, the ploy could be saved for later. He looks to the others, Stairs?
Deliberately looking at the shield and its wielder, The shield is a deceiver, as I had suspected. Everything in this gods-forsaken city is tainted by the Hells. Simon, be sure that you are in control, for I do not relish relieving you of life if you become a problem.
As a representative of a great noble family, I must be a model of restraint and treat with understanding the rudeness of those who do not have such a status, education and responsibility to society as we aristocracy. So I will not take your threat to heart dear Donal. And yes, everything is under control, as I have already assured our comrade Mal. Trust me, I know what I'm doing.
We can pretend to serve food and wine, by the way. But in any case, yes, the stairs.
Perhaps, I can relish it a little bit, Donal thinks to himself, grimly, in response to the noble's reply. Pray that you do.
No more than a few steps in that direction and you hear a lively rattling and jangling coming from the highest crate in the southern stack. There's a hard *knock* before a moment of silence...then the box explodes as tiny red-hot shards burst in a shrapnel bomb and three devils emerge!
Spinagons, the same spined devils that were in Amrik's company at the Low Lantern, seem to have been keeping watch at this important checkpoint. One makes a beeline for the top of the stairs after taking a short look at the incapacitated Duke, ignoring you completely, but the others move to engage...
Inits:
Round 1:
Simon, Mal <--UP
Spinagons
Fisk, Donal, Grim, Reya
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Mal brings up his crossbow from under his robes while moving away from melee. He loads and aims at the devils letting loose when one of his companions threaten it.
Spined devils are what most scholars call by another name, Spinagons. The highest ranking of the lesser baatezu, they love torturing anyone they can with their serrated spines that burst into hellish plasma when ejected. Wholly lacking in pride and power, legends have it they are nonetheless quite resilient to magic attacks.
Simon unleashes his devilish energy on the devils, testing their resistance to magic and retreats as far back as possible behind the backs of his comrades.
Simon focuses the occult waves of force pouring out of his symbiotic will into a tight beam, clipping the spined devil in the side. It squawks angrily, fluttering its wings and bristling its gnarly spikes menacingly as Malaric draws his crossbow, ready for another showdown with the forces of hell.
The spikes glow red hot, and the creature launches them across the cellar at Simon...
...the warlock ducks behind a wheel of cheese just at the last moment, and the fiery spikes make a quick fondu.
The second flies right through the party in pursuit of Simon, too quick to elicit any kind of response.
The tiny pitchfork it wields and tinier teeth are no match for the warlock's shield, however. And it was just the moment Malaric was waiting for, taking advantage of the devil's distraction launching his quarrel into the back of the creature.
The one fleeing spinagon disappears up the stairs out of sight, leaving its two corrupted brethren to sort out the party.
No one notices Fisk slink behind a pillar, pulling out the cultist's dagger...
...but everyone notices the effect of his deftly spun dagger, flying through the air and cutting the creature deep...it drips drops of black acid over the foodstuffs.
Round 1:
Simon, Mal
Spinagons
Fisk, Donal, Grim, Reya <--UP
Dumping the Duke on the floor, Donal slings his shield to his arm with practiced efficiency and walks past the devil facing Simon wiping its head from its body. Without missing a beat, he continues toward the second on the stair...
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Perhaps I should take his words more seriously...
Mal calmly reloads his crossbow. He aims at the further devil and lets loose another bolt when Donal closes to melee. But, he sacrifices a good shot for a great shot.
The priest charges in to work in tandem with Donal.
Edit: Casts Magic weapon as bonus action.
for +
The priest continues charging up the stairs while his magic is still relevant, to kill the final one.
The might and magic of Donal and Grim eliminate the southern threat with a quick splattering and slashing...a burst of flame signifies the devil's return to its eternal hell. Reya rushes to defend Simon, no sign of reluctance in the Hellrider's face...
...struggling to make contact at first, but with a fast hop off a barrel finds the height and cuts true.
Donal says to Reya, Watch the Duke. We will clear upstairs.
The warrior then nods up the stairs to Mal, Grim, and Simon, raising his shield to head in first...
EDIT: