Lady Charlotte Plumth |
A post of mine got lost is seems.
After the silence stretched, Charlotte managed settle her emotions into a small hidden box, enough to soften and ask 'Is everything okay' but the source of those emotions talks first.
The corners of her lips curve downward, a epic frown for her. If the box was open she would want to scream at that moment. The box though stays safely closed.
She finds her hands bunched into fists into her skirts and opens them. Slowly.
Her own mind is unsure what is wants. So she just stays silent, not looking at the elf beating the hell out of gate.
DM Brainiac |
It takes a while, but Fallende is eventually able to bash the gate open. The stone walls, floor, and ceiling of this hall are polished to an almost mirrorlike sheen. The arching ceiling is supported by twin rows of columns, all of which have been carved to resemble the same beautiful woman dressed in revealing robes--Runelord Sorshen.
A deathly pale man with long, bone-white hair woven into a long braid, dark eyes, and well-fitting and revealing clothes stands at the ready here. He holds a gleaming mithral rapier. The man shakes his head sadly. [b]"A shame that you have come here as foes and not as friends. I am afraid that I have no choice but to stop you.
Fallende: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17
Isabel: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
Wesley: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20
Enemy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18
Charlotte may act first!
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
"Why?" the doctor asks "Stop us from what, and why are we considered foes?" she doesn't expect the questions to stop him, but she really wants to know.
diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24
DM Brainiac |
"Stop you from penetrating further into the Mistress's sanctum," the man says. "And you are foes because you bashed down the door. That is not something a friend would do."
He clicks his tongue, then casts a spell. unleashing a cloud of foul, blood-sucking fog around himself, engulfing you!
Sanguine Mist: 6d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 2, 6, 2, 4) = 23
Everybody takes 23 negative damage (DC 25 basic Fortitude). Creatures within the cloud are concealed. Everybody may act. The man is 10 feet away from you in the cloud.
Fallende Westagho |
Fortitude Save vs DC 25: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24
The sting of the fog only seems to harden the elf's expression. She steps forward, drawing her blade at the same time.
"If you declare us foes, then there is only one path left for us!" she declares, slashing with her blade.
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 15
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 33
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (2, 4) + 4 = 10
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 11
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (2, 10) + 4 = 16
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 16
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (4, 9) + 4 = 17
Current HP: 55/78
Current Hero Points: 1/3
Current Effects: n/a
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Charlotte silently agrees with Fall, as she sends a flaming bolt at him.
flat check: 1d20 ⇒ 20
fire ray: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
damage: 6d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 2, 5, 1, 1) = 13
As the flames inside her billow out smoke to mingle with the foul cloud, she kneels next to Wes, doing her best to salve the wounds tearing into him, but it all proved too much and she fumbles.
battle medicine: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16
Isabel Rhelian |
Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
Isabel pushes through the cloud and circles behind the man before striking.
Strikes, Flanking: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 231d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 81d6 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Checks: 2d20 ⇒ (12, 14) = 26
DM Brainiac |
Fortitude vs Blindness: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (2) + 16 = 18
Wesley casts a spell at the dhampir, causing him to become blinded! Fallende moves in and attacks, scoring a critical hit, but the man reacts by casting a spell to curse the elf for having the audacity to spill his blood! Isabel manages to hit as well, then Charlotte burns him with a ray of fire!
The dhampir sustains the sanguine mist as he strikes blindly at Fallende, scoring a hit!
Sanguine Mist: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 1) = 4
Flat Checks: 1d20 ⇒ 161d20 ⇒ 12
Rapier: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (13) + 16 = 291d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14
Damage: 2d6 + 5 ⇒ (5, 4) + 5 = 14
Fallende must attempt a DC 25 Will save against blood vendetta. Everybody takes 4 negative damage (DC 25 basic Fortitude). Fallende takes 14 piercing damage.
Fallende Westagho |
Will Save vs DC 25: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17
Fortitude Save vs DC 25: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18
Focusing entirely on the foe in front of her, Fallende barely notices the blood draining from her body and the effects it has on her strikes.
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 8
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (10) + 18 = 28
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (12, 2) + 4 = 18
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 16
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (7, 8) + 4 = 19
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 7
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (3, 11) + 4 = 18
Persistent Bleed Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 4) = 9
Persistent Damage Recovery vs DC 15: 1d20 ⇒ 14
Current HP: 28/78
Current Hero Points: 1/3
Current Effects: weakness 1 vs P/S
Isabel Rhelian |
Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
Isabel continues to ignore the mist and keeps striking as best she can in the mist.
Strikes: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 161d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 111d6 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Flat checks: 2d20 ⇒ (1, 7) = 8
Which isn't very well.
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
I had thought I had posted, but it is not here.
fort: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
After bandaging up Wes, Charlotte raises her eyes to look at where everyone is. Then her face drains of all its color to see how much blood is pouring out of Fall.
She gets up and rushes to the elf, giving her a quick heal spell to attempt to stop the bleeding.
heal, 2 actions: 1d8 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
move to Fall, and she will use her Life connection on any additional damage Fall takes
DM Brainiac |
Wesley Flat Check: 1d20 ⇒ 7
Produce Flame: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20
Fallende scores one good hit on the dhampir, but Wesley and Isabel both miss. The dhampir sustains the sanguine mist again and manages to strike Fallende with his blade!
Sanguine Mist: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 3) = 8
Flat Checks: 1d20 ⇒ 141d20 ⇒ 1
Rapier: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (10) + 16 = 26
Damage: 2d6 + 5 ⇒ (2, 1) + 5 = 8
Everybody takes 8 negative damage (DC 25 basic Fortitude). Fallende takes 8 piercing damage.
Fallende Westagho |
I'm assuming that Charlotte takes either the 8 negative or the 8 piercing damage.
Fallende swings again at the pale stranger and then attempts to shove him out of the concealing mist, moving to follow.
Fortitude Save vs DC 25: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 6
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (17) + 18 = 35
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (11, 2) + 4 = 17
Concealed Flat Check vs DC 5: 1d20 ⇒ 11
{A} Brutish Shove - Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (12, 4) + 4 = 20
Shove - Athletics vs Fortitude DC: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19
{A} Stride
Persistent Bleed Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 6) = 8
Persistent Damage Recovery vs DC 15: 1d20 ⇒ 3
Current HP: 23/78
Current Hero Points: 1/3
Current Effects: weakness 1 vs P/S
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Charlotte will take the piercing
fortitude: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
When the next blow strikes the lovely but annoyingly muffled-headed elf, Charlotte grabs that pain away and into her own own flesh. She wishes she could continue to do so, but unfortunately that one protection uses the connection she built up with Fall.
battle medicine: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (11) + 14 = 25
battle medicine healing: 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (4, 7) + 10 = 21
heal: 1d8 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
With a combination of medicated bandages and healing magic, the doctor managed to patch the warrior up. But she has very little left...
Isabel Rhelian |
Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (14) + 12 = 26
The fog is becoming a real problem but Isabel does her best - there's not much else she can do afterall.
Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31
Miss Chance: 2d20 ⇒ (12, 1) = 13
Strikes: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 301d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 121d6 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
DM Brainiac |
Isabel manages to land a blow on the man through the fog. Fallende attacks with gusto, scoring a critical hit, then following up with a brutal stab to the dhampir's gut! She shoves him off the end of her blade, and he crumples to the floor and falls. The sanguine mist dissipates.
The dhampir's sword is Silverfang, a +1 striking undead bane mithral rapier!
Fallende Westagho |
Her chest heaving from the exertion, Fallende takes a moment to catch her breath before returning her blade to her back. Kneeling down, she picks up the dhampir's blade and examines it with a dismissive gaze.
"Une arme pour un enfant," she mutters to herself before turning to hand it hilt-first to Isabel. "You would make better use of this blade than I."
The threat dealt with, her attention turns to Charlotte. Seeing the state the tiefling is in, her brows furrow with concern.
"Mon Ange? How do you get in this condition?" she questions, reaching for the woman's healing bag and pulling out a bundle of bandages. She directs a glare at Isabel, sure that this must be her fault somehow and then sees to the task of bandaging Charlottes injuries.
"Hold still while I see to you," she says in a gentler tone.
Treat Wounds vs DC 15: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27
Crit Healing: 4d8 ⇒ (5, 7, 4, 1) = 17
Current HP: 53/78
Current Hero Points: 1/3
Current Effects: weakness 1 vs P/S
Isabel Rhelian |
"You do realise that she's taking your wounds for you right?" Isabel asks sharply as she steps in to grasp Lottie's hand. There's a glow as Charlotte's wounds close and then Isabel steps away.
"Thank you for the blade." She says over her shoulder. "It'd be good for sewing you know."
36 healing from LoH.
With the dhampir dead she takes some time to actually examine the room that they're in.
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Charlotte does feel a bit battered, her skin raw and aching, so she relents to the tender care of FAllende Westagho. A hint of smile curves her lips most excellent job of the wrappings.
The Lady was just about to say so when Bel blurts out her use of magic. Her dark eyes spark into a glare, the lips forming a firm irritated line, before turning back to Fall and explaining "Once. I did so once. The danger of the situation was plain. My healing reserves was spent, both in magic and you body's ability to respond to the medicines. So I assessed the situation, tactically, and..." her hand covered the wrapped gasp on her forearm "... transferred the last wound from your opponent to myself."
Her ire toward Bel softens as her friend heals even more of her pain.
"Thank you. Both of you." she says before standing up "I believe it is my turn to do the same for you." she recovers the remaining bandages and thread from the bag and gets to work.
Fallende Westagho |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Fully ready to call Isabel out on her lies, Fallende's lips snap shut when Charlotte confirms her claims. Disbelief and ... betrayal? ... flash across her face.
"I did not realize that you had so little confiance ... faith ... in my abilities. You believe that I failed you. Je suis désolé." She takes a breath and the hurt vanishes from her face to be replaced with acceptance.
She accepts the rest of Charlotte's healing in silence before stepping aside with crossed arms, her eyes scanning the room for any threats as Isabel searches.
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Charlotte closes her eyes, wanting to hide from the pain she just caused, but equally frustrated that it was caused by her doing what she feels she is meant to.
They open shortly after then the doctor gets to her task, stitching and bandaging. In silence. Her ability to say the right thing in an emotional situation is non existent, so she builds up a mental wall.
DM Brainiac |
There doesn't seem to be anything of interest in this room. You continue on through a long, curving hallway lined with marble pillars carved to resemble beautiful women. The hall passes by an alcove featuring an incredibly realistically rendered mural. The painting depicts a grand assembly hall thronged with hundreds of adoring spectators focused on Runelord Sorshen who stands upon on a dais, arms outstretched as she addresses those gathered. Behind her, several nude men and women are chained between upright pillars.
The hall ends in another room featuring a second mural. Here, Sorshen stands atop a towering pyramid, but the painting, like the walls and floor of the hall, is splashed with blood.
A hideous demon stands guard here, its body coated with a viscous red slime. The fiend snarls and raises its spear!
Fallende: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22
Isabel: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
Wesley: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
Enemy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21
Everybody may act!
Fallende Westagho |
Fallende frowns at the first mural, but says nothing. When they reach the second room, she ignores the art entirely to focus on a challenge that she understands - combat!
Stepping forward, she cries out a challenge and engages.
{A} Stride
{A}{A} Intimidating Strike - Greatsword: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (13) + 18 = 31
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (1, 6) + 4 = 11
Target is frightened 1 on success. Frightened 2 on critical.
Current HP: 78/78
Current Hero Points: 1/3
Current Effects: n/a
Isabel Rhelian |
Isabel conducts her ineffective search and keeps glancing back at Lottie and Fall as they conduct themselves in icy silence.
By the time they leave the room and head down the corridor Bel has had enough. She grabs Falls arm, drags her forwards and shoots Wesley a glare that says 'Keep her. RIGHT. THERE.'
"I've been a b&$#&." She says simply. "And I'm not really sorry for that. What I am sorry for is blurting that out. I did it because I was angry. I'm angry with you, Fall. Because you keep treating Lottie like she's made of gods-damn glass. She is brilliant, she is capable and has a sense of right and wrong like you wouldn't believe. So shut up. Stop trying to take the weight of the world on your shoulders and accept that she has every right to do everything she can to help you! You have the big fancy sword and the skill to use it. She has her magic and she uses it to help you! You didn't fail her, she doesn't believe you failed her. So take your forking pride, stick it back up that oh-so-fine elven derriere and apologise. If you like her, if you care for her, then treat her as a real person. You do that and I'll get out of your way. Because if you can do that then you might actually deserve her. Est-ce que tu comprends?"
She stops, with one hand on Fall's shoulder and stares - hard.
------------------------------------
Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 30
Isabel circles the creature with her new blade and tries to attack from opposite Fall. They have to work together when it comes to battle.
Strike: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 342d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 = 10
Fallende Westagho |
Previously ...
Fallende's face darkens as Isabel vents upon her, her eyes narrowing to thin slits of green.
"Mlle Plumth is everything you say and très beau as well," she finally answers. "But I do not treat her like ... how you say ... 'gods-damn glass'. I treat her as someone that I should protect because c'est mon putain de TRAVAIL!"
She takes a deep breath. "I have trained with this blade since avant d'avoir des seins. I could never do magic or dance with words like mes soeurs. This is all I can do and if I can not even keep safe from harm those that I ..." She trails off and looks away.
For the first time since she's met her, Isabel sees vulnerability on the elf's face. It vanishes just as quickly as the elvish features harden.
"Is it pride? Perhaps. But it is all I have."
Isabel Rhelian |
"Then maybe you have to give that up." Isabel replies, letting her grip soften. Not in response to the elf's words, but the emotions she saw, fleetingly, on the fine-boned face. "For something better. For someone better. You aren't competing with your sisters Fall, you aren't competing with anyone - except yourself. Be who you are, but don't you dare take away who Lottie is. It's your job to protect her - fine. But it's her job to keep you alive too!"
Bel is doing an excellent job of not shouting but her whispers are so vehement that they have an almost physical presence as she hurls them at Fallende. "So get that into your damn head and let her protect you too! Getting hurt more isn't brave, it's just stupid. And if for some idiotic reason you can't trust her then trust me! I won't let her die - not for anything. And certainly not your stupid pride!"
She takes a deep breath and the faint wind that has been whipping her hair into a golden curtain falls as she breathes out.
"I'm trying to help Fall. So, again. Est-ce que tu comprends?"
Fallende Westagho |
Fallende bites back the urge argue back and takes a rare moment to consider the woman's words. "I will consider what you said," she finally replies in a voice that's much calmer than previous. "And your accent is très atroce," she adds with a hint of a smile.
Giving a glance back to see that the others are now coming closer, she can't help but conclude with, "And if 'ohsofine' is another word for fat then I may owe you a punch in the face."
Isabel Rhelian |
"Mon accent est parfait, merci." Isabel replies, her tone perfectly crisp and her accent rather good for a non-elf. "As for your derriere... il est parfaitement ferme et très agréable à regarder. Presque aussi beau que le mien."
With that Bel spins on her heel and walks back to Wes and Lottie, a touch of extra swagger in her step as her halo materialises above her head.
Fallende Westagho |
Fallende's eyes narrow again as it finally sinks in that Isabel hasn't been entirely up front with her. A quiet laugh follows. "Ce tour vous appartient, mon cher," she says quietly to herself.
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Wes's wounds were the last Charlotte got to, which she felt instantly guilty for. Not so guilty that she didn't notice the other two women going off to talk. Which itched inside her, an angry welt around her heart.
She forced it down, again, and gave Wes her attention, refusing to ask him what he thought they were talking about.
--
The doctor tries to remember anything she might remember about demons, while she throws a lance of divine energy at the red giant.
recall knowledge: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16
divine lance: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
damage: 3d4 + 4 ⇒ (1, 3, 4) + 4 = 12
DM Brainiac |
Ray of Frost: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19
Wesley is unable to recall information about the demon. His ray of frost misses, as does Charlotte's divine lance.
Isabel recognizes the fiend as a babau, a demon formed from the soul of a murderer. It resists acid but is weak to cold iron and good damage. She moves around behind it and attacks, scoring a critical hit! Fallende hits it as well, demoralizing the demon.
Snarling with rage, the demon bites at Isabel with the intent on delivering a particularly horrific wound! Luckily, she is able to avoid its jaws. Its follow-up claw strike rakes against her chest.
Grievous Strike, Claw: 1d20 + 16 - 1 ⇒ (3) + 16 - 1 = 181d20 + 8 - 1 ⇒ (18) + 8 - 1 = 25
Damage: 1d4 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 91d6 ⇒ 4
9 slashing and 4 evil damage to Isabel.
Fallende Westagho |
"That's right, lâche! Attack the boucles blondes rather than the real threat! I am right here, lâche!" the elf snarls at the fiend as she swings her blade wildly.
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (20) + 18 = 38
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (1, 9) + 4 = 14
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (18) + 13 = 31
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (3, 2) + 4 = 9
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (9, 2) + 4 = 15
Current HP: 78/78
Current Hero Points: 1/3
Current Effects: n/a
Isabel Rhelian |
Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 211d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 141d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 2) + 6 = 132d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 5) + 6 = 172d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 2) + 6 = 13 I'll make my attacks good-aligned, for all the benefit it will have with those attack rolls!
Isabel focuses mainly on the defensive as she sees Fall deliver a mighty strike to the babau's back - no doubt it will be her turn momentarily.
"Good or cold iron if you can!" She calls back to the casters. "No acid!"
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Given the information and her complete lack of spells left other than cantrips Charlotte continues trying to hit the creature with a divine lance, formulating the image of her in her mind before letting loose.
divine lance: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19
damage, good: 3d4 + 4 ⇒ (3, 1, 4) + 4 = 12
DM Brainiac |
Ray of Frost: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22
Only Fallende manages to hit this time, though her blows are quite powerful, badly wounding the demon. In response, though, the demon excretes a gout of acidic, bloodlike slime!
Critical Success: The attacker is unaffected.
Success: The attacker takes 1d6 acid damage.
Failure: The attacker takes 2d6 acid damage.
Critical Failure: As failure, except the weapon used to Strike the babau becomes broken, unless the weapon is made of a material that is immune to acid.
The babau bites Fallende, delivering a particularly gory wound!
Grievous Strike: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (8) + 16 = 24
Damage: 1d10 + 7 + 2d6 ⇒ (2) + 7 + (6, 3) = 181d6 ⇒ 1
Claw: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
18 piercing and 1 evil damage to Fallende and she is frightened 2!
Isabel Rhelian |
Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 221d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 291d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage, Good: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 132d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 6 = 13
Isabel takes advantage of the monster turning on Fall and stabs it repeatedly, aiming for the huge oozing gashes the elf left behind.
Fallende Westagho |
Reflex Save vs DC 24: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 13 - 2 = 13
Spending a Hero Point ...
Reflex Save vs DC 24: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 13 - 2 = 21
Acid Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 3) = 5
In spite of her injuries and the fear chilling her spine, Fallende laughs. "Pourris dans les profondeurs de l’enfer, vil diable!" she spits back at it in elvish as her blade slashes this way and that.
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 18 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 18 - 2 = 19
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (8, 11) + 4 = 23
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (6) + 13 - 2 = 17
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (3, 10) + 4 = 17
{A} Greatsword Attack: 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 8 - 2 = 11
Greatsword Damage - P/S: 2d12 + 4 ⇒ (12, 2) + 4 = 18
Current HP: 54/78
Current Hero Points: 0/3
Current Effects: frightened 1
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
Another bright lance flies at the demon, a little more accurate this time.
divine lance: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
damage, good: 3d4 + 4 ⇒ (1, 4, 4) + 4 = 13
"Demon!" Charlotte corrects, though she has no idea why she feels the need to correct the elven warrior standing defiant against fear and blood.
Isabel Rhelian |
"Well fought." Bel says, panting. Then she reaches out and claps a hand on Fallende's shoulder. Her grasp is warm and undoes some of the damage the demon did. It's a peace offering of sorts. LoH for 36 healing.
"How are you doing Lottie?" She asks. "Do you need to rest? How about you Wes? We've been pushing on a long time. Do we need to find a place to stop for a while?"
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
The oracle hunches over, breathing hard, but then pulls herself back up straight. "My magical resources are spent" she admits, then looks into her pack, even though every use of her supplies was cataloged in her mind. "And I need to spend some time making more bandages." she frowned, seeing the needle and thread placed in the wrong place. When Fall had left them after tending to her. Reaching in, she carefully placed them in the right place.
Looking back up she nods "Yes, we need to rest."
DM Brainiac |
You find a secure place to rest within the dungeon. Fortunately, nothing disturbs your sleep. Once you are prepared, you return to the chamber where you fought the demon and continue to the end of the hall.
The air in this large octagonal chamber is dreadfully hot—the very air shimmers with heat and almost drips with humidity, leaving every surface within shiny with condensation. The walls, floor, and thirty-foot-high domed ceiling are of polished white marble. Ten feet into the room, the floor rises up in a three-foot-high step, then again at twenty feet in. At the center of the room, a strange gray flame dances in a central firepit. Double doors stand to the west, while to the east, a ten-foot-square section of wall is a dull gray, contrasting with the white of the walls surrounding it. A single torch in a sconce protrudes from the middle of this gray square on the wall.
Isabel Rhelian |
The Night before
Bel finishes off dinner and then slowly gets up with a groan. "That food is terrible..." She says. "But by the Gods I needed it! Come on Wes, we need to backtrack back to that lake and wash these pots up."
As she leaves the lovely blonde shoots Fallende a pointed glance...
--------------------------------
Now
Bel seems remarkably unruffled by the heat and looks around the room cautiously. "So there's some sort of other exit over there..." She says, her voice rising into a question. "Maybe the fire has something to do with it?"
But before doing anything rash she defers to the spellcasters - who might see things she can't.
Fallende Westagho |
The Night before ...
Fallende rises as well, stretching her arms over her head.
"I should join you as well. Je suis gluant ... slimy?" she declares. When Isabel's pointed glance turns into a heated glare, the copper drops. "... but I will stay here and keep watch over our gear for now."
She turns a thoughtful gaze towards Charlotte. "Puis-je m'asseoir?" she questions, gesturing to the ground next to the tiefling. "May I sit?"
Lowering herself to the rolled out blanket that Charlotte has put down, Fallende wraps her arms around her knees and looks away. "My sœur ... sister, Fayelandera, has always made it clear that I am ... thick headed?" She turns to give Charlotte a grin and taps the side of her head. The grin fades to be replaced with a frown. "She says, 'Vous devriez danser jusqu'à votre objectif. - 'You should dance to your goal.'" She shakes her head. "I have never been very good at dancing. My steps, they are ... clumsy. I am much more comfortable striding forward and taking what I desire."
She tips her head towards Charlotte.
"With you, that is clearly not the strategy that will gain me victory. I am sorry that my clumsy efforts have availed me nothing but your ire. I am a simple woman and some things are beyond my knowledge. I wish to apologize again for le baiser. In the moment, it seemed right, but by your reaction I, again, blundered."
She growls in frustration.
"Why am I not smart enough for this! Why do I not understand these things?" Her annoyance is directed towards the world, rather than the woman next to her. "Mon Ange, what do I do? Is there a path forward for me? If so, what is my next step, for I know it not."
-----
Now ...
Fallende, on the other hand, is literally dripping sweat. "Yes, please, some way out of this fourneau."
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Charlotte was somewhere wallowing between anger and regret. Her dark eyes miss the pointed looks from Bel, but not Fall coming to sit next to her. She shifts to the side to allow the elf to sit, shuffling her skirts just enough.
She listens. Despite the thumping in her chest for the other woman being so near. Then thinks.
Looking down into her hands. "I have never felt jealousy before." she says softly. "My upbringing did not leave me with the feeling I deserved much of anything. so it is a foreign emotion. Only Bel ever tried to convince me otherwise." Her fingers weave through each other as she makes steady progress through her thoughts. Fingers that were not soft, but rough and peppered with small white scars from her work.
A moment pause, then she raises her head to look at the lovely woman next to her "You have changed that. And it is coloring my every reaction, it seems." Her walls against the world have been battered, by Bel, by Fall, by the infernal fires inside her, leaking her feelings out. "Hells, today I wanted to burn my best friend to ash because YOU were flirting with her!!" She shook her head, her eyes welling up, her impeccable calm at the edge of shattering.
------------------------
Charlotte is also untouched by the heat. Her skin almost glows in delight at the touch of it. She steps closer, letting her eyes shift to read the flame's aura.
She'd also like to recall knowledge on religion, +14, if it applies
Fallende Westagho |
The Night Before ...
To demonstrate her perfect understanding of such things, Fallende responds to Charlotte's revelation with ... confusion. "Jalousie?" she questions softly. "Flirting?" She mulls the two things over for a moment which leads to ... more confusion.
"When was I ...?"
The connection is finally made and the elf's green eyes widen comically. "Tu étais jaloux ... because I said Isabel needed a good kissing?"
Laughter follows, full-bodied and unrestrained. The elf throws back her head and lets the sound echo from the arched ceiling to bounce off the walls as if expelling a foul stench.
"Oh, Mon Ange," she continues when the mirth has run its course and faded away. Turning to the dark-haired woman, she shifts position and is no longer sitting on her bottom, but is on her hands and knees. And a lot closer than she was before. Her eyes have narrowed and become more predatory, but her lip is turned up into a crooked smile. "You can not deny that Isabel is need of a lengthy and thorough kissing, but I will leave that to you and refrain from such things except by your direction." She moves closer like a cat stalking a mouse unawares. "But she is not the only one needing such a thing."
Charlotte leans back as Fallende broaches her personal space once again, her face only inches from Charlotte's - close enough to feel the heat from the elf's skin on her own. Fallende's eyes flick down to Charlotte's lips and then back up to lock with the frustrated physician's.
"But I will bow to your friend's wisdom and refrain from such displays without an invitation manifeste. Your eyes say, 'Kiss me', Mon Ange. What do your lips say?"
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The laughter startled, cracking her defenses more, but in two different directions, as emotions often did. One was a dark acid in her belly at thinking she was being laughed at by someone she cared about, and the second was pure bliss at hearing this delightful melody bellowing from the elf's lips.
Then Fall was closer to her than ever. Charlotte's eyes widen to saucers, leaning back unconsciously afraid, but Fall follows.
Did she want to get away?
Did she?
No
With a decision made. her emotions settled in a firm desire. Doubt, self-loathing, and even proprietary were lay to rest, for now at least. Allowing Lady Charlotte Pluimth to take action.
As the last words left Fallende's lips, Charlotte replaced them with her own. Her face moved forward, her mouth parted, her lips touching soft, tentatively exploring.
The softness presses tighter, Charlotte's head tilts to the side to get more of the elf's mouth. Parting wider, her tongue dips in to taste as her hands cup the lovely warrior's perfect face.
This time, for this kiss, the young woman was not stunned to her core, but actively exploring the other woman. The kiss grows in length and depth, for many many breaths. When she finally comes up for air, Charlotte pulls back and smiles. Not her controlled tiny curve of the corners, but a wildly wide one that warms the air around her by a dozen or so degrees.
With just a trace of her previous hesitation, she asks "How long do you think they will be gone?"
Fallende Westagho |
The Night Before ...
"They may be gone all night or they may be back in the blink of an eye," Fallende answers with a low voice. "That would not stop me from carrying you to le paradis that you deserve." Her eyes are dark and travel the length of Charlotte's form as if appraising where to initiate the attack. She gently lowers the woman onto her back before turning to slip off her boots. Next, she pulls her gambeson over her head, revealing the pale skin underneath.
Rising to her feet, she shucks her trousers and smallclothes before turning to the reclining woman, the elf's naked form glistening with sweat and something else.
"But, because of ce diable, Je suis gluant. And I would not subject you to ... this ..." she gestures at her own lean form, "... in the state it is in. "
She bows deeply.
"I will return, Mon Ange, but we will continue this ... discussion at some time when I am in a state fit pour toi."
With that said, she turns and retrieves her scabbarded blade from her gear and, heedless of her nudity, saunters through the archway back towards the lake.
Lady Charlotte Plumth |
For the briefest of seconds, Charlotte believed Fall was wishing to stop for the night. A harsh desire roars inside her wanted to make her Change Her Mind. A shake of her head dislodged whatever that thought was, and also cleared her mind enough for her to realize Fall's saunter was simply bait.
Propriety still held her significantly tighter than the elf, so no matter how tempting it would be to shed her clothes, she couldn't so far away from where she would be losing them.
Losing them? Is she really?
Yes, she answers herself again.
Rising, she follows with swishing skirts, to the lake. As Fall's lovely eyes turn with a raised eyebrow, the doctor gives a smile, closer to her normal, before reaching to the ties at her skirt, letting them fall to the rough ground in a whooshing flop.
Boots, leggings, a parted blouse and vest, and a short tail curved around a thigh. Her cheeks do burn a little, letting it into the light of day again, but firm resolve takes hold. The naked skin dipped into the glistening water won't wait forever.
The rest slowly departs her body, revealing one with much more curves than lean. The act of folding each garment does make the process take longer, but gives Fall time to enjoy the view.
Slipping into the water herself, she moves to the elf, close enough to touch. Her brows furrowing, testing out a playfulness, "We don't seem to have any soap." but failing as a hint of seriousness invades. She finds the lack of it impractical.