|
Lawric steps into the ruined library, his boots silent on the blood-darkened floor. He kneels by the streaked blood, fingers hovering just above the dried trail as if reading from a page.
There is no body. Only the shape of a final decision. “THEY CHOSE TO FIGHT THROUGH DEATH.”
He opens the small leather-bound ledger tucked in his satchel and writes a single line with careful script. No name. Just a mark for the place, the manner, and the offering left behind. Then he rises and crosses to the chair, where the light of the Dawnflower’s relic still glows beneath the seat.
Lawric crouches low and cradles the symbol in both hands. The glow paints pale gold across his skin. His voice is as soft as he can manage, but still piercing and sharp.
“MAY THE GRAY LADY SEE THEM SAFELY TO THE RIVER OF SOULS.” He places the relic inside his satchel with reverence, nestled in cloth. For memory.
Then he returns to the center of the room, chalk in hand, and draws a small spiral near the goblet. The symbol of Pharasma. A seal. Not as a ward, but as a witness.
"THEY MADE THE MOST NOBLE OF CHOICES, THURGAN. THEY WERE NOT LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE ONE LIKE YOU FOR PROTECTION"
Niaqun look at the dagger and later at dawnlight pendant
The orc sniffs the air and then the blood on the ground
"It was a bloodbath, and it have happened at least a week from now."
"Will you be struck down or plagued with curses if you carry this?" he asks Lawric and Thurgan as he picks up the holy symbol.
"We have no issue with the Dawnflower, no curses to be feared" Thurgan asides, more interested in the news about the timing of when the bloodbath likely occurred.
"It is true Lawric, not everyone has a protector to defend them against the evils that are done by both some of the living and some of the dead, but you shall always have respite and safety under my aegis"
Thurgan looks around, but seeing no immediate threat, waits for Lawric to complete his ministry, then looks to continue exploring.
The heroes commit to a short ritual prayer, and then continue exploring the ground floor.
To the east, is a peaceful-looking dining room: everything is in place and the table is set with finery. It almost looks normal, except for the spatters of blood on the floor next to the table. The blood trails to the north, and the heroes enter the kitchen, which is in complete disarray.
One corner of the kitchen is scorched and completely collapsed. Someone tried to hold the invaders at bay using torches. In the chaos, the house caught fire, consuming the back door and part of the second floor. Plenty of kitchen tools remain, along with enough food to feed one person for a week. The trail of blood in the kitchen indicates that a body was dragged through the debris, but no corpse can be found.
Thurgan just notes the scene, but with no obvious survivors or dangers, continues upstairs - keen to ensure the house is cleared of the living or the dead...
|
|
Lawric lingers near the edge of the scorched kitchen, eyes following the trail of blood but feet unmoving. He doesn’t kneel or enter. He doesn’t mark anything.
Instead, he turns slightly toward Thurgan, voice scratchy and high.
“MORE BLOOD. MORE BRAVERY FROM THE DOOMED. IT FEELS LIKE THAT WAREHOUSE IN ABSALOM, ONLY... LARGER?”
He adjusts the poppet at his belt and follows Thurgan up the stairs without another word.
There are two bedrooms on the second floor: a guest room that was empty during the attacks and the master bedroom.
The guest room is unremarkable save for the northeast corner, where the kitchen fire ate through the floor and walls. Between the flames, smoke, and exposure to rain, all the furnishings in the room are completely ruined.
The door leading into the master bedroom has been broken open, but the room is in decent shape, save for the blood and gore on the floor. The bed is large and comfortable.
There is a chest locked with a simple lock.
Niaqun looks around spots the marks of blood downstairs and fire consumign part of the house, upstairs he checks the status of furniture
"It seems like a week long exposure to natural elements, so that thing have happened a week ago"
He spots the chest and says
"I can't open locks, but whoever or whatever attacked was neither interested in food nor for valuables"
“MORE BLOOD. MORE BRAVERY FROM THE DOOMED. IT FEELS LIKE THAT WAREHOUSE IN ABSALOM, ONLY... LARGER?”
He adjusts the poppet at his belt and follows Thurgan up the stairs without another word.
"And somehow nastier than I remember, and where are the bodies? Nothing? Nobody?"
Thurgan studies the chest in silence for a moment, then speaks, his voice calm but carrying the weight of principle “That doesn’t look like a records box” he offers - not accusing, just steady "No need for me to rummage inside"
"Surely there's something worthwhile in there. People don't lock up junk," Galimus says.
He kneels next to the chest and begins fiddling with the lock.
With a rather creative curse, Galimus gives up. "The stupid lock is jammed," he says. Which is a fact. The fact he does not point out is that it was not jammed before he started.
|
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Lawric pauses just behind Thurgan, listening to the silence around the unopened chest.
He doesn't look at the box. He looks toward the floor instead, where no bodies lie.
“NO ONE DIES WITHOUT BEING NOTICED. THE LADY KNOWS AND WE WILL LEARN. A WEEK IS NOT SUCH A LONG TIME IN THE SCOPE OF ETERNITY. I TRUST YOU WILL LEAD US TO THE RIGHT PLACE FOR OUR INVOLVEMENT”
Leaving the chest untouched and respecting it as someone else’s property (until its owner's fate is certain)Thurgan gestures toward the general store "Let's see what we can learn there" he rumbles. Grump the bear grizzles in low approval, plodding along behind him.
Galimus looks at the chest ruefully and gives it an irritated kick. But, he's not brutish enough to try to smash it open with his weapon. He looks around at the others, hopefully, wondering if none of them is as curious (or covetous) as he is.
With a sigh, he follows Thurgan. "Yes, let's see what else this town has to show us," he says, casting a final glance at the hidden treasure.
"Let's take it with us, maybe we will find the owners and give it back, without needing for them to come here"
---
Painted on the side of this stone building near the village’s center is a pile of timber behind a crossed mining pick and shovel. The front door proclaims this to be “Warland’s Yard, purveyor of general goods and supplies.”
The shop is a basic building with a large retail area, storage room, kitchen, and a private bedroom in the back. Since the whole thing is made from stone (with a straw roof), it’s one of the sturdier buildings in town.
The inside looks as though it’s been thoroughly looted, but the heroes are able to find a few useful items, including 50 feet of rope, a single box of nails, a hammer, four pints of oil, a dozen torches, and 10 feet of simple iron chain. The backroom has some loose wood that looks like villagers used to barricade doors or windows, and a small barrel of flammable tar, and a crate with 50 arrows.
A grumpy stray cat with green eyes and gray tabby stripes, lurks inside the shop. As the heroes move around, he starts to follow them around.
The kitchen has enough food to feed one person for a day, but it's all flavored with Vegemite.
In the bedroom, a chest and wardrobe both stand empty, but the heroes quickly spot a small coffer atop the latter. Inside, the heroes find two bottles of moderate alchemist’s fire, one lesser antiplague, and a moderate darkvision elixir.
The kitchen has enough food to feed one person for a day, but it's all flavored with Vegemite.
Thurgan moves deliberately through the general store with a warrior's caution, shield gripped and sword in hand. He doesn’t disturb anything that isn’t his, but he notes the defensive supplies.
"It seems there was a bit of fortification going on in the village - so then it’s clear they knew something was coming. They had a warning, just not enough to win"
"This store has potential. It could be a stronghold if what happened to this village were to happen again. I reckon we’ll be here a while. It might be worth deciding if this is where we want to make camp for tonight, or longer. Sleeping under the stars feels like asking for trouble"
Thurgan notes the cat and asides to Grump "He’s got your look" he suggests about the scarred and grizzled look of the cat, which is ironic as Thurgan is just as battle-scarred, before pulling a beef-strip chew from his pouch and tossing it to the cat "Respect to survivors"
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Lawric listens to Thurgan’s words from the far side of the room, one hand resting lightly on the cool stone wall. When the warrior finishes, Lawric nods once.
“I TRUST YOUR JUDGEMENT. THE STONE MAKES FOR SAFE SPACE.”
He walks in a slow circle around the room, fingertips trailing the mortar, reading the memory of the space. His eyes settle briefly on the barricade wood, then drift toward the cat now lurking near the shelves.
Lawric crouches smoothly and reaches into his satchel. After a moment of quiet rummaging, he produces a small square of dried meat, probably intended for himself but long forgotten.
He doesn’t call to the cat. Just lays the food on the ground and waits, poppet in his lap, watching with an intent expression that softens as the creature sniffs the offering.
“WE DON’T KEEP THEM. BUT WE CAN FEED THEM.” The words are barely audible, and it’s unclear if they’re for Thurgan, Grump, the cat, or himself. He remains crouched a moment longer, watching the cat… not to study it, but to acknowledge it.
Then he rises, brushing the dust from his sleeves, and looks toward the back wall again.
“THE GRAY LADY HAS A FONDNESS FOR STRAYS.”
Niaqun looks at the building and the arsenal gathered, he looks around for any signs that the arrows were shot.
"That is peculiar..." then he spots the cat and he approaches it close enough to check if it is magical
"Either something was unable to catch it ... or ... not really interested in cats"
Galimus pays little mind to the cat. While he respects a survivor, it likely has little to do with their investigation and is probably not a threat.
"I agree. This will be a good place to serve as a base camp. We should spend some time further fortifying it before continuing our explorations. I suggest we pick a single door and barricade the other one. Likewise, we should block the windows. It will be easier to defend the place if there's only one way in or out."
He is not nearly as squeamish about claiming the items of the likely dead as the others and will claim one of the pints of oil, a torch, an alchemist fire, and the antiplague elixir.
The cat hisses at Lawric, scared by his off-putting misdemeanor. Even if there is dried meat on the ground.
---
Galimus investigates the defensibility of the structure. All the doors and windows here are intact, but none are fortified.
The heroes can also re-investigate some of the random houses they passed by, as well as the Spring Manor.
Nature
Thurgan can relate to the cat, as can Grump. Seems perhaps the cat relates to them too.
"You have to meet them where they are at, not where we necessarily want them to be" he offers to no one in particular.
The cat purrs, and takes the food from Thurgun. They don't allow themselves to be touched, but when they approach close enough, Thurgun sees a collar with the name "Ogran" on it.
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Lawric watches the cat accept food from Thurgan, saying nothing about its refusal of his own offering. His eyes linger on the collar for a moment, reading the name in silence before writing it into his small leather ledger.
He steps to the center of the room, poppet in one hand, and looks around at the intact walls, counting the openings under his breath. When he finishes, he speaks, voice high and even.
“NINE WAYS IN. SIX WAYS CLOSED WITH WHAT WE HAVE. THE REST… NEEDS FINDING.
His gaze turns toward the shuttered windows, then back to the others.
“THE GRAY LADY SPIRALS OUT IN CIRCLES. WE COULD START HERE, MOVE OUTWARD. TAKE WOOD FROM OTHER HOUSES. THE DEAD DON’T NEED IT.”
He pauses, looking to each Pathfinder in turn as if waiting for someone to claim a direction. “BUT IF WE WAIT TOO LONG, NIGHT WILL CHOOSE FOR US.”
Lawric rests the poppet on the counter, its blank face turned toward the door, and takes up a piece of wood from the back room, running his fingers along its grain.
“WHO WANTS TO WALK WITH ME?”
"Ogran" Thurgan repeats the name to himself.
He rises instinctively as Lawric speaks, as though called to action "To the tavern and then the church - those tend to be places people rally in emergencies"
Thurgan and Grump lead on towards the tavern.
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Lawric closes his ledger with a quiet snap at the sound of Thurgan’s voice. “TAVERN, THEN CHURCH. GOOD PLACES TO GATHER THE LIVING… OR THE NAMES OF THE DEAD.”
He steps toward the back room and runs a hand along one of the heavier boards stacked there, and speaks quietly to Thurgan. “IF WE FIND MORE WOOD, I WILL NEED HELP CARRYING.”
With that, he raises his free palm. The straw poppet lifts from the counter, floating just over his shoulder in a slow, steady drift, its blank face always pointed toward the door.
“THIS LEAVES MY HANDS FREE.” he squeaks, to no one in particular.
He falls into step behind Thurgan and Grump, eyes moving between the path ahead and the windows they pass, measuring each for how easily it might be sealed.
"'Organ?'" Galimus questions, misreading the cat's name.
"Should we not try to barricade what we can before finding more supplies to barricade what we can't, yet?" he asks, though he follows the two Pharasmin devotees.
If they're going to leave shelter before nightfall, he wants to do it quickly so that they can be back.
Easily the largest structure in Fiorna’s Faith, this squat, single-story inn features a modest stable attached to the back. Unfortunately, where a warm light and raucous laughter might have once poured through the many bright windows, the building now stands dark and empty.
A crude mix of tables, crates, and barrels form a crude barricade across the main entrance, though it’s clear this didn’t hold. The barricade’s center has collapsed, and the ground beneath it is marked by bloodstains, gore, and other signs of violence.
Similarly, many of the windows have been boarded up, though more than half have been broken.
A wooden sign creaks in the wind. It hangs from the front of the building from one of its two hooks. The sign is adorned with a mining pick, a massive stein, and the words “The Pick and Pint."
Out back in the stable yard lies the carcasses of four brutally slain horses. The outer fence is broken in several places.
Fences:
Horses:
Inside the main entrance, the taproom is divided up into a small stage, a place for tables, and the bar. The entire area is in shambles. Spare tables and chairs barricade the windows, detritus is strewn about everywhere, and rust-colored blood speckles every surface. A large sinkhole has opened up under the building’s southeastern wall, which also breached the back wall of the inn, into the yard.
A crude charcoal drawing on a wall depicts many people, all pressed tightly together, with a wall around them and menacing squiggles outside.
Outside:
Survival
Medicine
Thurgan makes no sense of all the tracks, but does comment "The horses’ wounds were caused by humanoid hands and teeth"
Inside:
Survival
Society
Medicine
"Looks like there were a large number of people living in here for several days.There's piles of dirty clothes and rags littering the ground, as well as dishes and animal bones, including rats, that have been picked clean"
"Could have been a siege?"
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Lawric’s gaze sweeps the rags, the bones, the shattered barricade. He nods once toward Thurgan. “YES. A SIEGE. A LAST STAND.”
He crouches briefly, fingertips hovering over a picked-clean bone before letting it fall back to the ground.
“WHATEVER WAS OUTSIDE CAME IN. WHATEVER WAS INSIDE… LEFT DIFFERENT.”
His eyes drift toward the stable office and shed, lingering there.“THAT DOOR STILL HOLDS. IT MIGHT HOLD SOMETHING ELSE.”
He looks back to the main room, voice softer now.
“THE DESPERATE SELDOM LIVE TO SEE THEIR DESPERATION END.”
Niaqun observes seeing what his allies have spotted already
"There are bodies of horses but not humanoids..." he states the obvious
Galimus examines the scene but his focus is largely on what succeeded, what failed and what can be salvaged when it comes to the defenses the people here put up.
It is becoming ever more evident that he and his companions are going to have to do something similar and while, with the right spells, the dead can speak, with the right attention to detail they can tell you much more.
He tests the remaining barricades to see if they can be removed and repurposed for the site they've chosen to be their base of operations.
But his attention lands on the unopened door when Lawric calls it out.
"One way to find out," he comments, though he makes no move to be the first to open the door.
Galimus examines the barricades. Whoever put them up did a thorough job. It looks like the barricades each take about 1-2 hours to put up, but also, it means that it takes an hour to take down.
The office holds little of value, but a ledger does note a large drinking party that occurred about a month ago, with the cryptic note, “after they found the body,” indicating the beginning of the end.
The last entry was about a week ago, in a hurried hand, noting that supplies were dwindling. One last, frantic message is scrawled on the bottom of this page, which reads, “the end is coming.”
Three rooms on the northeast corner of the building serve as storage and an office. Most of the space is filled with linens, dishes, cleaning supplies, and basic tools. Just inside the storage room stands a large crate filled with the tools used to construct the barricade, including a saw, a few hammers, a chisel, a box of nails, and 70 feet of rope.
The storage room also contains a small barrel of lamp oil that’s about half full, containing 20 pints.
The Pick and Pint wasn’t especially known for its fare, but it did offer various pies, stews, and game roasts, served with weak ale and a syrupy liquor that tasted of anise and blueberries. The kitchen is mostly bare, as much of the town barricaded themselves inside this building for a few days, but enough food remains to provide 6 person-days’ worth of sustenance.
Half a dozen intact bottles of anise-blueberry liquor remain in a cabinet. The liquor doesn't count as food, but each bottle can be used to coat a single 5-foot square that, once lit, burns for 10 minutes, dealing 1d6 fire damage to anything that passes through the flames.
There are also empty crates and barrels in this room, which amounts to 1 barricade worth of scrap.
A hallway leads to the inn's only lavatory and two guest rooms. As the heroes move into the hallway, they can hear something moving in the northern bedroom .
The path to the lavatory and northern bedroom are blocked by piles of broken chairs, tables, and barrels . There appear to be enough material here for another barricade, but it appears that the material is currently being used ... to barricade the door to the second bedroom!
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Lawric takes the ledger from the office with careful hands, closing it as though it were a prayer book. He tucks it into his satchel without comment, only noting the final line in a voice too even for the words it carries. “THE END IS COMING.” echoes with Lawrics shrill voice in the empty room
His eyes lift toward the high windows. The light filtering in has already begun to shift. “FIVE HOURS UNTIL SUNSET.”“WE WILL NEED TO HOLD A PLACE BEFORE DARK." He walks the hall slowly, pausing at each pile of broken furniture as if measuring how long it would take to rebuild a wall. He lays one hand on the nearest beam, poppet floating just above his shoulder.
"THESE PIECES WILL HELP.”
When the sound comes from the northern bedroom, Lawric tilts his head, listening. He does not draw a weapon. He simply looks at the barricaded door and steps toward it.
“THEY BARRICADED THEMSELVES IN. OR WERE BARRICADED. EITHER WAY… SOMETHING IS STILL HERE.”
He looks back to the others, voice thin but insistent- one intent to spur others into action.
“WE SHOULD SPEAK TO THEM BEFORE WE CHOOSE WHERE TO SLEEP.”
HP: 33/33
Hero Points: 1
Halfling Luck: 1
Focus Points: 2
Spell DC 19, Attack +10
Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash
1: Bless, Command, Fear
2: Calm, Cleanse affliction
Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal
Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Not unlike Lawric, Galimus is already mentally calculating a number of things. How long it would take to barricade this place. How long it would take to strip this place and barricade the other. How long their food is going to hold out. Which one of his companions to suggest they eat first when the food runs out. How long that food will last...
"We should pick that place, soon," Galimus says. "It should be this one or the last one. If we wander and explore too long, we won't be able to fortify any place in time."
He is curious about the remaining occupant of this building. Who could have survived and how? Or was one of the assailants trapped an unable to escape.
"Hello? I someone back there? Can you hear me? Can you speak?" he calls out from the edge of the barricade.
There is no verbal response. However, with each phrase, the pounding and scraping gets louder and louder.
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Lawric stays still as the pounding grows, his head tilting with each scrape against the wood. He does not recoil. He listens.
“NOT TO KEEP IT SAFE.”
A pause, his voice high and strained.
“TO KEEP THEM SAFE.”
He straightens, eyes steady on the door, and turns to the others.
“IF WE OPEN THIS, IT WILL NOT BE A CONVERSATION.”
He lets the scraping fill the silence, giving the others space to decide whether they will face it now, or leave it sealed. As he waits, the poppet floats about over his shoulder, spinning slowly in a circle as if looking at each companion in turn.
"I THINK WE SHOULD KNOW"
HP: 33/33
Hero Points: 1
Halfling Luck: 1
Focus Points: 2
Spell DC 19, Attack +10
Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash
1: Bless, Command, Fear
2: Calm, Cleanse affliction
Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal
Active conditions: Spirit Sense
"This place is already better fortified than any of the others we've seen," Galimus comments. "It did not work out for the last occupants but I think it's our best chance of survival, anyway."
He looks to the door and the unintelligent scratching coming from within.
"Besides, you two didn't come here to leave souls trapped in corpsely shells," he continues to Lawric and Thurgan.
"And I'd rather face however many of them are in there now, alone than worry about them getting free and attacking us from behind or joining a larger group later."
He starts to undo the barricade though it is notable that he backs off when it is evident that the barricade may no longer be able to hold off whatever's inside.
"No, no we didn't, Galimus" Thurgan says with a grin, barely concealing his religious zeal as he checks his shield straps, grips his weapon, and smiles at his bear-cub, already drooling with anticipation.
"Lawric, it's time for some ministry. Prepare to read the sermons for our holy lady Pharasma, and I will deliver her 'good gospel'..." Thurgan's muscles flex as his grip on his weapon tightens further, almost instinctively.
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Lawric didn’t move from where he stood. He watched the door, the scraping behind it, the loosened barricade—all of it—with the calm of someone checking names off a list. His pale hands folded in front of him like a mourner at a grave too fresh to approach.
“YES,” he said slowly. “THEY HAVE BEEN WALKING PAST THEIR DEATH LONG ENOUGH.”
He stepped lightly to Thurgan’s side, gaze never leaving the door.
“YOU STRIKE WITH HER HAND. I WILL SPEAK HER WORDS.”
One skeletal finger reached out and touched Thurgan’s shoulder. Lawric murmurs a phrase too quiet for the rest to hear, though it didn’t feel like a blessing. It feels more like permission.
Niaqun stands close by and whispers a silent spell, the magic begins to surround him
"The souls need to be mended, the undead put to rest. And we could learn something about what we would be facing. If you can don't destroy those planks we could use them"
---
The group begins removing the barricade, fully expecting something to jump out.
However, as soon as Thurgan removes the second to last piece of the barricade, the door bursts open, and a foul stench fills the crowded hallway just before four zombies lurch out of the darkness to attack.
--Round 1
Galimus (37/37, AC 19)
Red Zombie (-0, Religion)
Yellow Zombie (-0, Religion)
Green Zombie (-0, Religion)
Blue Zombie (-0, Religion)
Lawric (33/33, AC 17)
Niaqun (39/39, AC 20)
Thurgan (51/51, AC 21+2) / Grump (32/32, AC 19)
"Egad! Who thought there would be so many in there!" Galimus exclaims as the room's crowded contents are revealed. Fortunately, he's got a spell or two prepared for undead and hurls a string of pure, vital energy at the closest one before backing down the hall to give others the chance to get close enough to see and fight.
vs DC 19
The zombie looks like it initially resists much of the damage, but as the vitality energy runs through its body, it screams in horrendous pain.
The zombies reach for Thurgan.
vs cover (corner)
plus Grab plus DC 18 Fortitude
vs cover (corner)
plus Grab plus DC 18 Fortitude
They take so long to move that it's almost like they only have 2 actions to your 3.
plus Grab plus DC 18 Fortitude
↺
vs Fortitude DC 20
Yellow grabs Thurgan!
Green and Blue struggle to claw their way past Red and Yellow, but Red and Yellow tell them to wait their turn. Perhaps in a past life they were a family of four, and the two teenage boys had no more manners in life than they have in unlife ...
--Round 1
Lawric (33/33, AC 17)
Niaqun (39/39, AC 20)
Thurgan (50/51, shield 19/20, AC 21+2, DC 18 Fort save, grabbed) / Grump (32/32, AC 19)
--Round 2
Galimus (37/37, AC 19)
Red Zombie (-0, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1)
Yellow Zombie (-16, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1)
Green Zombie (-0, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1)
Blue Zombie (-0, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1)
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Lawric raises one hand, fingers crooked like a dying flame, and points toward the shape writhing in front of his companion.
“YOU WERE NOT MADE TO LAST THIS LONG,” he squeaks. “RETURN TO THE ORDER YOU DEFIED.”
A sudden pulse of raw vitality cracks through the dark like a silent hammer.
As the fading glow dims, Lawric reaches into his robes and withdraws a small glass vial etched with Pharasmin script. He whispers something to it, though no one hears the words, but the bottle begins to sweat.
Then he hurls it into the fray.
◆◆ Vitality Lash.
◆ Thrown Holy Water
HP: 33/33
Hero Points: 1
Halfling Luck: 1
Focus Points: 2
Spell DC 19, Attack +10
Cantrip: Guidance, needle darts, prestidigitation, shield, vitality lash
1: Bless, Command, Fear
2: Calm, Cleanse affliction
Fount: Heal, Heal, Heal, Heal
Active conditions: Spirit Sense
Niaqun moves forwards and bypass Thurgan "Stay strong! Swing hard! Don't let them leave the room!" he throws to him, then he enters the kitchen to have a view into the room with Zombies
Than he opens himself to the apparition, the spirit of flames and earth he feels the flames within him and his eyes look for things that they can consume, he extends his hand the whole inside of the room is covered in magma and molted rocks trying to consume the enemies
Than he extends his hand towards Thurgan
"May apparition bless your weapon, crush your enemies with divine powers"
"I am the fury of flames, I am divine vessel!" yells the Shaman unleashing hell
Fort
Lawric fires a beam of vitality into the void, but he seems to have missed all the zombies.
The floor is lava! Niaqun turns the floor into a churning mess, and the zombies react.
vs DC 18
vs DC 18
vs DC 18
vs DC 18
Thurgan feels a little swelling around the claw marks, but otherwise feels fine.
--Round 1
Lawric (33/33, AC 17)
Niaqun (39/39, AC 20) Check Earth's Bile
Thurgan (50/51, shield 19/20, AC 21, grabbed, weapon infused vitality) / Grump (32/32, AC 19)
--Round 2
Galimus (37/37, AC 19)
Red Zombie (-12, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1, persistent fire 1)
Yellow Zombie (-28, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1, persistent fire 1)
Green Zombie (-6, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1, persistent fire 1)
Blue Zombie (-6, Religion, weakness vitality 10, slowed 1, persistent fire 1)