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"Hrm? Oh, the spell lasts ten minutes," Alvarius answers, his mind having wandered. He picks up on the tail end of Nicky's ruminating and adds, "I heard of a group of adventurers who repaired a ring of aiudara. They were from Breachill, in Isger. The key bit about them is that they operate in a ring, connecting from one to the next. At least, that's my understanding. It's fascinating stuff that I honestly wish we had more time to study."
"I admit, I often wonder how much of my knowledge I've lost. Death takes its toll, they say."
"Onye Dawon can go seek her, if you are nervous, Nicky," the catfolk says, voice hollow behind his wooden tiger mask. He huddles there, inside the enchanted black fur cloak that keeps his ears from freezing off.
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Nicky listens intently to Alvarius talk about both the spell and the Elven Arches.
"Hrm? Oh, the spell lasts ten minutes
It takes a bit for that comment to sink in.
Whoa. Wait. You said 10 minutes. Hasn't it been about 12 minutes so far? I have a terrible internal clock, but shouldn't "D" be back by now?Do you think she's in trouble?
When Onye sees his nervousness and offers to check on her mission. Since he's deft at sneaking - Nicky likes that idea.
Yeah! Onye, you rock. Check on our terrific partner. Make sure she's safe, because she might not be invisible anymore.
Daehalya creeps back, skin crawling. She feels a chill she never felt back in her arctic homeland.
"Something is very wrong," she informs her companions when she arrives back at the group. "They spoke my name. I don't know who they are, but I think we must deal with them."
"Very well," the amurrun says as he flexes his fingers. "You do not think they are willing to parlay?"
"That was my question too. I mean, I'd rather we talk this over if at all possible. Violence is a quick answer, but we've had to resort to it a lot lately. There a better way to sort this?"
Avarius looks at Daehalya, empty eye sockets somehow conveying the sense of him staring. "I trust your gut, either way. And that's not just because I don't have one," He adds, heading off the likely joke from Nicky.
"I think we can try, but I think it will end in violence, either way. But you are right. Unsettling as they are, perhaps even if we do have to fight, we can learn something beforehand," Daehalya says. "Let us approach carefully, and together, and keep an eye out for danger."
If the others agree, she leads the way forward, stepping out at the edge of the campsite. "Hello, I heard you speaking of us," she says calming. "I don't think we're as familiar with you, however."
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Agreed. Let us talk with them. I can even hold their attention with magic tricks of bursting fire from my mouth , as a precursor gag to "going to the winterlands".
I mean, if they don't attack us outright.
Nicky also laments not being able to jump in and finish Alvarius's joke about not having a gut. "Rats", he thinks.
The masked amurrun follows close behind Daehalya rather than prowling within the shadows.
Knowing that his appearance can sometimes be troubling, Alvarius keeps his hood pulled low and follows at the back of the group.
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Knowing that his appearance can sometimes be troubling, Alvarius keeps his hood pulled low and follows at the back of the group.
Nicky is the exact opposite, he knows he has a way with people. He can walk into a room, or cave, or dungeon, or Elfgate and the glow of his being is enough to befriend the befriendable (is that a word?).
He stands right next to Daehalya as she speaks to the friends or foes. He gives a perfect Chelaxian, Tiefling, carnival ringmaster type smile to these people.
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Daehalya steps clear of the trees, boots crunching softly on ancient stone, her hands open and her posture deliberately calm. The ruined courtyard seems to hold its breath.
For a heartbeat, nothing happens after she calls out.
Then the figures emerge.
Four ordinary humans step out from behind broken pillars and half fallen walls travel stained cloaks, practical boots, weapons worn but well-maintained. They look like the sort of guards one might expect on a remote trade road. Too normal. Too similar in height and build, though their faces are different enough to pass a casual glance.
One of them smiles first. It’s friendly, rehearsed.
Another folds his arms, eyes flicking over the party with practiced efficiency. “This place isn’t safe for visitors. Lichgate’s off limits. Old magic. Dangerous magic.”
As Nicholo considers the odds, already preparing to dazzle them with a burst of flame and a joke about freezing his breath for the Winterlands, one of the guards lets out a short chuckle exactly the laugh Nicholo was about to use. The timing is wrong by a fraction of a second, like a poor echo.
“Look,” another guard says, stepping forward, palms raised in a placating gesture. His voice shifts mid-sentence subtle, but unmistakable losing a gravelly edge and gaining a smoother, almost refined cadence. “No need for tricks or trouble. Turn around, head south. Nothing here for you but ruins and regret.”
Behind them, the spires of Lichgate loom, pale stone catching the light like bone. From somewhere deeper within the ruin comes a faint, playful tapping and a distant hum childlike, inquisitive, utterly unconcerned with the tension in the air.
The guards hold their ground, expressions polite, voices calm.
But as they stand there, watching, each of them blinks just a little too slowly.
And for a brief, unsettling moment, every single one of them looks at the same party member with the same eyes.
”Onye Dinta cannot name what is wrong, but Onye Dinta recognizes when the weave is frayed. And this is wrong,” the catfolk growls from behind his mask. Emberlight crackles across his black mane.
"Agreed," Daehalya breathes out.
She hefts her staff.
"We have no interest in tricks, either," she says to the figures, voice hardening. "though I think it may be too late for us to avoid trouble. Something is wrong here, and we must go to the Lichgate."
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Silence follows.
Then one of the men exhales a slow, disappointed sigh. Another rubs his temple, as if nursing a headache. A third lets his shoulders slump, weary in a way that feels practiced—performed.
“That’s unfortunate,” one says softly. His eyes linger on Daehalya’s staff. “We were hoping you’d turn around.”
“You felt it too,” says another—this one looking directly at Onye Dinta. His voice drops, loses its warmth. “The fraying.”
Their faces... shift.
Not dramatically. Not yet. A jaw tightens where it shouldn’t. A smile fades into something flatter, emptier. One man’s eyes darken until the whites seem thinner, stretched, as though his skull were deciding how to hold them. Skin ripples faintly along a cheekbone, then stills.
Behind them, from beyond the broken arches, comes the distant scrape of something being dragged across stonesupplies being adjusted, perhaps. Arctic gear. A soft, delighted giggle echoes once, then cuts off abruptly, like a thought smothered mid idea.
“Lichgate is closed,” the first guard says again, but now all four speak with him. Same words. Same cadence. Same voice. “It’s already taken enough from travelers who asked too many questions.”
They spread out, not to attack, not yet but to block the paths between fallen columns, bodies mirroring each other with unsettling precision.
"And what exactly did it take?" Daehalya asks.
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One of the guards’ brows lifts, interested.
“Mention how we came from the doctor’s manor, that the manor led us to go through the gates.” The guards voice almost seems to mirror Nicky's for a brief moment.
At that...
Something breaks.
Not loudly. Not visibly.
But the four figures go utterly still.
The mention of the manor lands like a thrown dagger. Their eyes sharpen. Their posture changes not casual travelers anymore, not weary wardens. Predators calculating angles.
“It took volunteers,” one says, though its voice now carries a wet, layered undertone—two throats speaking in imperfect harmony.
“It took trespassers,” another corrects.
“It took the curious.”
All four draw weapons in the same smooth motion.
Steel whispers free.
The mention of the Manor and the Doctor seem to catch the men off guard a bit as you notice a look of surprise.
Steel hangs in the air for half a breath longer.
Then unexpectedly the nearest doppelganger lowers its blade.
“Wait.” The fourth says
The word ripples through the others. Weapons dip, though not fully. Eyes remain sharp.
“You’ve said enough to warrant his attention,” one of them says carefully. “Remain outside the inner chamber. We will alert Etward.”
There is no scrambling, no shouted warning. One of them simply turns and walks beneath a half-broken arch toward the spires. The others remain spread wide, watchful, hands near hilts.
Moments stretch.
From within Lichgate’s intact chambers comes the low murmur of a man’s voice. Calm. Measured. Curious.
Then footsteps approach.
Etward steps into view.
He is composed, travel worn but deliberate in his bearing, winter furs draped over scholarly robes. Frost stained gloves. A satchel at his side heavy with tools rather than scrolls.
“My friends,” Etward says, as though greeting dinner guests who arrived unannounced. “You’ve come much farther than I expected.”
His gaze lingers on each of you in turn, measuring.
“You were instructed to remain at my manor,” he continues mildly. “Lichgate is… delicate.”
A faint smile. Not warm intrigued.
“But since you have come all this way, I would be remiss not to hear your findings. Please.” He gestures inward, toward the chamber just before the portal itself. “Speak freely.”
"Onye Dinta saw many terrible things that Etward has done," he growls. "You see yourself as better because a demon speaks to you. Tempts you. You use Gatewalkers like tools and toss us on their fire to fuel your own ambition." His mane crackles with flame.
"Yes, as Onye Dinta says, we know who you are, and what you've done, Professor," Daehalya says gravely. "I held out hope as long as I could that you were being controlled, manipulated, by Osoyo, but it seems clear what you have done, you bear responsibility. If you wish to explain yourself, you can, but your crimes will be ending here. And now."
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If you wish to explain yourself, you can, but your crimes will be ending here. And now."
YEAH! What She said! I am not going to get lured into some room so you can crack open my brain and scoop out the gray matter inside.
No way. No how. No Gatewalker brain eating for you!| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Alvarius hears his friends speak, but all he can do is look down at himself. His skeletal frame. His undead state. Barely a whisper, the dead man says, "Is this your fault?"
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Nicky gives a side glance at Alvarius.
Did I hear Bonsey MacBlackthorn correctly?
So did he say. Is this your fault -- Doc Etward?
Or did he mean. Is this your fault - Alvarius?
Bones-thorn sure is giving body language that he's blaming himself for something. UGGGHHH. If I survive this fight, I need to do some psychiatry and get this guy's backstory even if it takes a prison spoon (alcatraz digging item).
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The hum of Lichgate deepens, resonant and old, vibrating through bone rather than ear. Frost spiders across the flagstones in delicate veins, tracing the elven sigils of the aiudara like a pulse beneath skin.
Etward’s smile holds.
But something in his eyes has gone distant, calculating not just the party before him, but paths branching far beyond this chamber.
“You were not meant to come here,” he says softly, almost reflective. “Not yet. The manor was… a buffer. A courtesy.”
Etward continues, tone thoughtful rather than angry. “You traced me directly. That implies either intuition... or interference.”
His gaze lingers on Onye Dinta at the mention of fraying threads. On Daehalya’s staff. On Nicky’s restless stance. On Alvarius brainless skull.
He exhales slowly.
“You know, Lepidstadt once called my family the pride of the river.” His voice turns almost conversational. “The Ritalsons. Patrons of academia. Hosts of exquisite galas aboard the Mossmaid.” A faint smile touches his lips. “Such shallow ambitions. So eager to toast themselves while the universe whispered at the edge of sleep.”
The frost thickens.
“I was given a dream,” he says quietly. “A revelation. A patron beyond the wall of sleep extended its will to me. And in return, I removed distractions.”
For a flicker of a second, reflected in the sheen of ice along the floor, Daehalya sees firelight dancing on black water. Screams swallowed by smoke. A riverboat burning to its skeleton.
Etward does not blink.
“The tragedy freed me,” he says simply. “Freed my time. Freed my funds. Freed my purpose.”
The four guards shift closer, not overtly threatening, just tightening the geometry of the room.
“The Missing Moment confirmed what I suspected,” Etward continues, voice warming with genuine fervor now. “There are doors within doors. Dreams within dreams. And you...” he gestures lightly toward them, “...you were touched by the same event. Bound to the same fracture.”
“I learned to step into your dreams,” Etward says. “To observe. To sample.” His smile sharpens faintly. “To refine.”
His gloved fingers flex.
“You think yourselves seekers of the truth,” he murmurs. “Investigators of the strange. But you are catalysts. Conduits. Raw, radiant psychic latticework.”
The air tightens as if pressure builds behind the eyes.
“Do you know how delicate memory is?” he asks. “How beautifully it can be excised? With the proper incision, one can peel back experience like parchment. Preserve it. Recontextualize it. Amplify it.”
He glances back at the portal.
“I require what you carry,” he says plainly now. No more pretense. “Your Missing Moment. Your proximity to the Dreamlands. With it, I will perfect the key. I will return north. I will reach the Crown of the World.”
His voice lowers, reverent.
“And I will free Osoyo.”
The name seems to make the portal shudder.
Ice cracks sharply across the floor between them.
Etward lifts his hand again. This time the air bends faintly around his fingers.
“I would prefer you compliant,” he says calmly. “Sedated, perhaps. The procedure is cleaner when the subject is still.”
The moment the last of Etward’s words settles into the frost laced air, the four “humans” stop pretending.
It begins subtly.
A tremor passes through one guard’s jawlike a yawn held too long. Another’s shoulders twitch inward, bones shifting beneath borrowed skin. The illusion doesn’t shatter; it loosens.
Then it peels.
Faces soften and sag as though the features were pressed into warm wax. Noses flatten. Cheekbones recede. Eyes widen too wide before narrowing again into something slick and depthless. The color drains from their flesh in ripples, pinks fading into a pallid, grayish pallor that seems almost damp in the cold air.
One guard’s mouth stretches sideways not into a smile, but into something testing its hinges. Teeth realign behind thinning lips. Fingers elongate, knuckles popping audibly as tendons adjust to new proportions.
Cloth hangs wrong on them now. Armor shifts awkwardly against reshaping torsos. Beneath the sound of cracking ice, there’s a wet, elastic whisper skin sliding over muscle that does not quite match.
Hair withdraws into scalps like ink sinking into paper.
Within seconds, the four stand revealed.
Tall. Smooth featured. Androgynous. Their gray skin catches the portal’s pale light like polished stone. Their eyes are uniform now dark and reflective, with no warmth behind them. Where once there were individual stances and gestures, there is now eerie symmetry.
They breathe together.
Inhale.
Exhale.
One tilts its head, studying the party without expression.
Another flexes its hands experimentally, as though savoring the honesty of its true shape.
Their voices, when they speak, are no longer stolen.
Etward continues “But I have grown quite adept at working with resistance.”
Behind him, Lichgate pulses.
Waiting for either dream—or blood.
A faint scratching interrupts the tension.
Not from the walls.
From the floor.
Near one of the broken columns lies a half-buried skull old, weather bleached, its surface threaded with frost. At first it seems nothing more than ruin detritus, another relic swallowed by Lichgate’s long decay.
Then the skull’s empty eye socket twitches.
A thin, pale tendril slips from the darkness within.
It unfurls slowly, glistening faintly, like a slug’s antenna tasting the air. Another follows. Then several more delicate, boneless feelers that probe outward, curling and uncurling with idle curiosity.
The skull tips slightly as something inside shifts.
With a soft, moist sound, Ogovip pulls itself free.
The mindmoppet is roughly the size of a housecat, but its proportions are wrong. Its body is rounded and soft, almost larval, covered in translucent, pearlescent skin through which faint pulses of dim inner light can be seen. Veins, or perhaps thoughts, flicker beneath the surface like distant lightning.
Its head is oversized and bulbous, blending seamlessly into its torso. No clear neck. No clear spine.
It has too many eyes.
Small, lidless, glassy orbs open across its surface in irregular clusters. Some blink sideways. Others roll independently. A few remain fixed on individual party members with unsettling intensity, as if cataloguing them from multiple angles at once.
Its mouth, if it is a mouth, rests as a vertical seam low on its body. It parts slightly, revealing not teeth, but soft, ciliated tendrils that pulse as it breathes.
The feelers that emerged first now anchor it to the stone, pulling it fully free of the skull. With a wet pop, the last of its body slides out, leaving behind faint residue inside the bone cavity.
Ogovip turns, though it has no clear front, and several eyes focus on Daehalya.
Then Onye Dinta.
Then Alvarius.
A soft hum vibrates from within it, not sound, exactly, but a pressure behind the eyes. A curious sensation, like fingers brushing the edges of your thoughts.
Delighted.
The seam of its mouth widens slightly, and a thin thread of luminescent drool stretches to the floor before snapping.
Above, Lichgate hums in resonance.
Etward does not look at the creature.
He does not need to.
“Ah,” he says calmly, as Ogovip scuttles closer on its many tendrils, “there you are.”
The mindmoppet pulses as Onye is raised a few inches into the air and slammed into the ground. Outside of the forceful push Onye feels an immense presure on his mind as the Ogovip seems to be compelling him to lie on the floor and wait for the Doctor to harvest his brain.
Etward seems to wait patiently.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Ogovip
Etward Ritalson
➤ Onye
➤ Nicholo
➤ Alvarius
➤ Daehalya
Doppelganger (Yellow)
Doppelganger (Green)
Doppelganger (Pink)
Doppelganger (Blue)
The catfolk warrior falls to the ground as the slug momentarily takes hold of his will. However, he neither stays compelled long nor on the ground long. The masked amurrun leaps to his feet faster than anyone could react. He prays behind his mask, "Spirits of creation, imbue me with your power to defend your tapestry and punishes these who dare to unmake your work."
His body shimmers with silver light as he transforms into a fearsome tiger. The tiger growls at the nearby aberrations.
[ooc]+15 temp HP = 97 HP
HP 83/83
AC 25 (+1 vs. traps), deny advantage, cold resistance 3
Fort +11, Ref +17, Will +12 (+1 vs. traps)
Hero Points: 1
Deviant backlash DC: 5
Effects:
She steps toward the nearest gray, not willing to let it try to flank them, and swings her staff in a familiar arc, knocking the alien creature to the ground.
"You have not seen resistance like this, Ritalson," she calls out.
"Good speech. Really creepy, Ritalson. Give us a moment?"
Alvarius, speaks a word of arcane power, following it with an upward gesture of his right hand. With the motion, a roaring wall of fire springs from the group, blocking Ritalson, Ogovip, and two of the doppelgangers.
"Now would be a good time to kill these two, as that wall is just going to slow them down a bit!"
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You got it. Murder, Death, Kill. Commonly called code 187 in the seedy underworld of Cheliax.
Hmm. Not sure why I just blurted that out. I think I am just very nervous. This is far more deadly and serious a situation than I was anticipating.
Nicky works on devising a strategy. He needs his smarts to get him and the party out of this mess.
Piercing
Nicky fakes like he's rushing towards the Doppleganger in Purple, but with deft agility, turns to help Daehalya. Attacking with a Rapier Swipe.
** - Move.
*** Raise Buckler.
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Onye quickly leaps back to his feet as he feels the oppresive pull on his mind to lie down. Angered by this mental pull he transforms into a fearsome tiger.
Nicky devises a strategm as he watches Alvarius cut off a section of the ruins. His rapier enters the doppelganger's slick body with ease. Alvarius' spell takes hold as the room fills with flames, blocking access through one of the doorways.
Daehalya's staff sweeps the ground, knocking the doppelganger prone as she breaks its arm.
The dopplegangers circle around the wall of fire as they try to find an opening. The doppleganger near Onye pushs in further, trying to keep Alvarius between it and the Tiger as it claws at Alvarius' side.
The distance doesn't save the Doppelganger from Onye's retribution as a massive paw swings around the side catching it and slamming the creature into a sall pile of rubble.
The wounded Doppelganger near Daehalya's body contorts in pain after having its arm crushed by her staff. Its skin melts away leaving the form of a frightened Nicholo. "Why would you do that Daehalya." Its hand shakes as it stands up. Don't hurt me."[/b] It holds out two hands in peace.
The mind moppet is fascinated by the flames and screeches through your minds in pain as it passes through. It doesn't quite know what to think about the feeling of pain.
It gets a small lash of anger as it tries to push Alvarius away reflexively with its mind.
Having no effect it tries to slowly anticipate what happens next.
Ritalson follows one of the Doppelgangers to observe their success in subdueing the threat.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Ogovip
Etward Ritalson
➤ Onye
➤ Nicholo
➤ Alvarius
➤ Daehalya
Doppelganger (Yellow)
Doppelganger (Green)
Doppelganger (Pink)
Doppelganger (Blue)
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Oh, this is too funny. You all picked the wrong person to impersonate. THEY WANT to beat me up. You just gave them the VIP card to Fight Club.
I talk far too much for my own good. I'm certain each of these people want to hit me hard with a broom stick or tiger claw.
Beat on me Daehalya! Just go to town. Let lose your anger!
The tiger growls, resisting the powerful urge to charge over and maul Etward. He considers the doppleganger within reach and the bizarre thing at his feet. It is small but dangerous. His stripes crackle with electricity and wind swirls around him before he pounces on the moppet.
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Whoa! I get to tell stories in the pub about Nicky on Nicky hate crime-ing! This is SOOOO Weird. There's religious discipline things like self flagellation. But this scenario takes the cake!
See Fake Nicky- It's this blabbering mouth that makes the others eager to hurt me!
Looking to attack the Nicky Mimic.
Second attack.
Last action: Raise Shield.
HP 83/83
AC 25 (+1 vs. traps), deny advantage, cold resistance 3
Fort +11, Ref +17, Will +12 (+1 vs. traps)
Hero Points: 1
Deviant backlash DC: 5
Effects:
"It's nothing personal, Nicholo," Daehalya says, bringing her staff down in a figure eight pattern as she tries to size up the incoming attacker.
Critical Success You precisely discern the target's strategy, gaining a +2 circumstance bonus to AC against the creature until the start of your next turn and a +2 circumstance bonus to your next saving throw against the creature before the start of your next turn.
Success You deduce the gist of the target's strategy; as critical success, except the circumstance bonus is only +1.
Failure You fail to discern the target's strategy and gain no benefit.
Critical Failure You misinterpret the target's strategy and take a –1 circumstance penalty to AC against the creature until the start of your next turn, and a –1 circumstance penalty to your next saving throw against the creature before the start of your next turn.
"It's some poorly timed shenanigans, at the very least," Alvarius says, hands beginning to glow with void energy as he works a spell. "Better off just being yourself, whatever that might be."
The skeletal mage then reaches out to touch the doppelganger, releasing the magic to in turn draw the life out of the creature like a vampire to its prey.
He then conjures and fires an arrow-shaped bolt of force, one of the most common and reliable forms of battle magic, at the creature.
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The mindmoppet shudders, in glee as Onye is unable to demoralize it in the slightest.
Onye feels a slight pull at his powerful paws but it is not enough as he swipes into the gel-like body of the moppet.His jaws don't seem to do anything but leave a foul taste in his mouth and his claws seem to do a little damage.
Nicky attacks himself, leaving himself with morale thoughts that will keep him awake at night. Just as his blade pierces the dopplegangers side the creature ends its ruse and claws back at Nicky's arm.
Nicky sweeps back just out of reach as he stabs it again through the brain, killing the doppelganger.
Alvarius reaches out, both hands grasp either side of the doppelgangers head. It rapidly shrivels and turns to a dry, hollow husk as he drains every single remaining living cell from the creatures body into himself.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Ogovip
Etward Ritalson
Onye
Nicholo
Alvarius
➤ Daehalya
Doppelganger (Yellow)
Doppelganger (Green)
HP 83/83
AC 25 (+1 vs. traps), deny advantage, cold resistance 3
Fort +11, Ref +17, Will +12 (+1 vs. traps)
Hero Points: 1
Deviant backlash DC: 5
Effects:
With her nearest foe slain, Daehalya moves quickly on to the next.
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Daehalya directs her swing to the mindmoppet. She too feels her hands jerk away from the mindmoppets direction but forces through the strange sensation to miss the creature completely as her staff bounces off of its shell.
The pair of doppelgangers close further into the room clawing furiously at Nicholo and Alvarius.
Alvarius braces hiself as the pair of deadly claws streak close to his face. Onye's massive paw blocks them, nearly flattening the doppelganger inot the floor in the process.
Nicholo is not as fortunate as fresh wounds are dug into his arm.
Oovip tries to anticipate what happens next as it fails to lift Daehalya off of the ground.
Etward pulls a small scroll from his sheath. With not enough time to use it yet he tries to enter Onye's dream-like state, enducing a vivid and reaistic nightmare scenario.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Ogovip
Etward Ritalson
➤ Onye
➤ Nicholo
➤ Alvarius
➤ Daehalya
Doppelganger (Yellow)
Doppelganger (Green)
HP 83/83
AC 25 (+1 vs. traps), deny advantage, cold resistance 3
Fort +11, Ref +17, Will +12 (+1 vs. traps)
Hero Points: 1
Deviant backlash DC: 5
Effects:
Daehalya presses the attack, trying to end this moppet thing as quickly as possible, so she can go after the greater threat -- Ritalson!
Critical Success You precisely discern the target's strategy, gaining a +2 circumstance bonus to AC against the creature until the start of your next turn and a +2 circumstance bonus to your next saving throw against the creature before the start of your next turn.
Success You deduce the gist of the target's strategy; as critical success, except the circumstance bonus is only +1.
Failure You fail to discern the target's strategy and gain no benefit.
Critical Failure You misinterpret the target's strategy and take a –1 circumstance penalty to AC against the creature until the start of your next turn, and a –1 circumstance penalty to your next saving throw against the creature before the start of your next turn.
Deciding that Ritalson needs to continue to be hampered, Alvarius conjures a shroud of darkness that blacks out the area around the man and one of the doppelgangers!
The dead wizard then erects a quick magical shield to further protect himself.
The tiger wilts under the mental assault but is not driven away. He tries to bite the do[pleganger's arm off before swiping at the green ooze.
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Onye's powerful jaws crunch deep into the creatures bone as he tears teh arm right from its body. Both claws batter it from ither side leaving nothing more than bloody pulp where it once stood.
Alvarius shrouds Ritalson in complete darkness where he hears the many utter several curses.
The moppet is smacked into the ground where Daehalya uses her staff to sweep it back into the flames.
Your minds burn as the moppets death screams pierce the veil of your conciousness, filling your minds for a brief few seconds before falling silent once more.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Etward Ritalson
Onye
➤ Nicholo
Alvarius
Daehalya
Doppelganger (Green)
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Nicky definitely presses the doppelganger as he stabs it through the hand and shoulder in one swift motion before going back into a defensive posture.
The doppelganger snarls and leaps at Nicky, trying to claw the skin from his face as its own face quickly contorts between each of his party both past and present.
Onye intercepts some of the doppelgangers attacks before it can do too much lasting damage to Nicholo's face. His powerful claw begins to push the doppelganger away giving Ritalson an opportunity as it stumbles through the darkness. His eyes go wide as he realizes he is in the room with all of you, quickly looks around and finds most of his companions all deceased. He picks up speed, clutching tightly to the scroll in his hand as he breaks through the opposite doorway.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Etward Ritalson
➤ Onye
➤ Nicholo
➤ Alvarius
➤ Daehalya
Doppelganger (Green)
HP 83/83
AC 25 (+1 vs. traps), deny advantage, cold resistance 3
Fort +11, Ref +17, Will +12 (+1 vs. traps)
Hero Points: 1
Deviant backlash DC: 5
Effects:
"I trusted you, professor," Daehalya says softly as she uses her staff to leap over the doppelganger in the way. "How could you betray us all!"
She sweeps the staff at their former benefactor's legs to knock him down, then moves around to put herself between him and the aiudara.
Also unwilling to let Ritalson escape, Alvarius moves his skeletal fingers through a spell. He releases a green bolt from the tip of his finger, which flies out and unerringly strikes Etward. The magic within works to infiltrate his mind, shutting down motor control.
Success The target is stunned 1.
Failure The target is paralyzed for 1 round.
Critical Failure The target is paralyzed for 4 rounds. At the end of each of its turns, it can attempt a new Will save to reduce the remaining duration by 1 round, or end it entirely on a critical success.
"Hold, please!"
Alvarius once more erects a magical shield, keen on protecting himself in case the doppelganger gets any ideas.
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What is happening? Is he trying to escape? First it's bluster about how adept you are at fighting through resistance - I.e you eat our brains. Now, it's flee like a chicken with it's head cut off?
We are NOT letting you go that easily.
You have a lot of betrayal to answer for.
As Daehalya moves deftly and looks to Trip Ritalson, Nicky lets out a happy exclamation.
Nicky is still in a pitched battle with his opponent and works to put his rapier through the things face. He thinks of a good strategy.
Raise Shield.
The tiger bounds after Etward. He swipes at him with a paw, claws extended to grab hold of the mad researcher rather than tear his flesh. However, he follows up with a snap of his teeth with full violent intent.
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Onye's large form presses the doppelganger tight against the wall and Nicholo's blade, as it enters the creatures chest, killing it. Onye has equally violent intent as Etward narrowly slips from Onye's grasp, only to get bit across his ribs with the sickening crunch of breaking bones.
Seeing Etward continue to try and get a little distance Alvarius tries to paralyze the man with strong magics but it isn't going to hold but for a second.
Daehalya tumbles through the gap and sweeps Etward off his feet as he hits the ground hard.
Etward rolls to his feet and tosses a small vial from his pocket at Daehalya.
He fumbles the vial in his panic and it just rolls across the floor.
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BOLD IS UP!:
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Etward Ritalson
➤ Onye
➤ Nicholo
➤ Alvarius
➤ Daehalya