Grumbling in frustration, Brankh pulls out the spear and makes a wild poke at the monster.
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With a gleeful grin, Brankh's smoking hand ignites again. He reaches past Saoirse and fires another bolt.
Brankh will stay in battle position, his longspear at ready. Raising a hand off the shaft he touches the holy symbol near his chest, points to a skeleton and a searing bolt of fire launches right out!
Let's get back into our usual formation, comrades and continue. Alanthian, proceed when ready.
It does strike me as risky. But why here? What is this shaft for? Brankh peers down into the gloom, listens and sniffs.
"Well, little one...are you feeling brave today?"
This is interesting. Catila, you ought to have a look at this.
Brank proceeds slowly, wondering at the sights. Does this mean the Runelords worshipped the lady of Graves as they worsipped their own sinful vices? Or was she held higher than the others? Where does her Church fit in all of this? How are we to know what is heretical? Oh Nehruha, you are sorely missed now!"
Brankh steps into the cold crypt and ushers his light-bearing colleagues back a little. He stands back 25 feet from the nearest bit of mould and looks into the alcove with his dark vision. [b]
As he poked about the crypt of pride earlier he mused to himself. What kind of crypt celebrates the vices of its denizens? These people were excessively proud. Is that something to be proud of? These heretics were crazy. Ahh Saorise! Come on sleepy head! We have work to do. What are you doing snoozing on the job? Here...take a puff of this....
Brankh next approaches Alanthian as the Rogue works on the new crypt. He sees the ugly claw marks on his garments. Deciding not to take any chances Brankh whips out his holy symbol. A little chilly here isn't it? Let's warm things up shall we? Come closer Saorise!
You were stunned by a burst of magical light. Only then did the skeletons appear. Some kind of wizardry I think. There's more to this crypt than meets the eye. The sin of pride leads to delusions of grandeur...glossing o'er the soul's rotten core. Brankh pokes about with the spear, checking out carpet and alcoves.
I'm still in, man! I'll keep posting as long as you are.
Sometimes I post a bit less frequently than other times depending on the rhythm of my schedule. I am entering the busy part of the schedule...when I work alot - which means I post more! It's great to get paid as I play RPG's on the internet. I love it! Maybe if Brankh wasn`t firing up the bong we'd be moving a little more quicky! Keeping the pace going with PbP is a real challenge isn't it? At the moment I am planning to start something up as a DM....perhaps in September - maybe sooner. I think when I do it I will post some playing times on a schedule...you know...like how University professors post their visiting hours. The game would progress at the usual snail's pace....but players might congregate at certain times.....
While the others explore the room. Brankh digs into his pack and fishes out his healing kit The sack looks awfully empty - but after some rummaging he finds a small sheaf of herbs, a pearl sized ball of sticky resin and a twist of tobacco. He takes a bit of each and packs it all together in a small bundle - stuffing it into a small airhole on the lamp. He pours a little bit of water into the lamp's basin. Then he approaches the two groggy partners, cupping the lamp in his hands. A quick snap - a Spark - and the herbs are aglow. A deliciously fragrant smoke curls about the room. "Breath deeply, Thorin." he says - as he holds the improvised pipe to the Warrior. "This should take the edge off your headache"
Brankh quickly rushes to his fallen comrades to see if they are OK.. "They appear to be knocked out...look they are starting to wake up! Looking to the Alcoves ahead...he says' "I shall stand guard until they revive. Then we can proceed. Brankh sheathes the sword and picks up the longspear, lowering it to defend his two stunned friends. In the next moments, while he waits and stands guard he traces out a charm on his breast - praying for Resistance on himself and then his colleagues (time permitting).
Brankh sees the skeletons and grunts. This is starting to get familiar. But a man could get to like this job! He spits on his hands and pulls out his big falchion. He hefts it a about to get a feel for it...then he steps up take a whack at one of the bloody boneyanks.
(ie. He has an awesome will save modifier = +7....+3Wisdom, +2 Cleric First Level, +2 Iron Will Feat). If he is countering fear he would get +2 from his courageous trait If these saves are supposed to counter a mind-affecting effect, all of Brankh's allies should get +1 to their save (from Brankh's born leader trait.) That's strange. I got ninja'd in a big way. I could swear that I posted Brankh's comments long before the 14:42 EST time which is now listed. And a whole bunch of your posts have appeared ahead of him which I did not see before...
Beautiful. Friends. If I may I will take the time to pray to my deity and perhaps rest a little. I can take a later watch. Keep an eye on our warrior maiden. She is holding out well for now, but the ghoulish infection may still be lying dormant inside her. Arouse me if you notice anything out of sorts. Some kinds of healing take time - Saorise - if you feel ill at ease - even a little- remember we are here for you.
Brankh steps in and gives the young woman a hearty slap on the back. But you're fine now! Look at you. You look a like a million gold pieces! We just have to keep a close eye on you for few days, that's all. Do not despair! Your with friends. We will not let you down. Let's find a good spot to fortify ourselves and have a good meal. You need food Saoirse - as does our warrior here. I must adnmit that I did not bring many days worth of provisions...that might become an issue the longer we stay. Now this room stinks like death. Catila and Alanthian, why don't you search this place out? Then we can choose one of the crypts to fortify and recuperate ourselves. I think we are in good shape...but I am spent of all healing spells and could use some time to rest and pray.....Brankh pauses for a moment in contemplation... I had a vision, my friends...a vision of the Dawnflower...whose voice commanded me to destroy the evil that desecrates this catacomb and to drive out the darkness with her light! I am now committed to this mission and will see it through at any cost! What do you say? Are we ready to kick undead ass and send these evil aberrations to the abyss?! I'll drink to that! Brankh raises the wineskin and takes an Orc-sized celebratory swig!
"Keep the spirits up, friends. Rejoice!....she needs it. Arise Saoirse! Doesn't it feel great to be alive? Thorin, pass the bottle. Let her have a swig. We'll drink a toast to life! (then you can put the bottle away). So, Saoirse, are you with us?"
Above all things we must keep her alive! Lest she become one of these monsters herself in death! Her wounds we can heal, but to overcome the hideous fever she will require all the strength of her character! We must keep a close watch on her. She must fight! If you see her falter you must let me know - so that I may call on my Goddess' power to bolster her spirits. Holding his hand aloft he cries out as a flame engulfs his hand. He grits his teeth in a grin of pain, pleasure and exertion as he kneels by Saorise's side and brings the fire to her wound. A familiar sizzling sensation surrounds the room as her wounds heal. He takes a towel from the kit and wets it with clean water to wipe her wounds and face.
Flushed from excertion and emotion and bleeding, Brankh stands in the room leaning on his spear. He looks down to Saorise and begins to unsling his pack to look for his healing kit.
Perhaps he can assist in diagnosing her condition before deciding on a course of action. Brankh's hands are shaking as he pulls the bundle out of his pack.
Half-orc nomads of Southern Katapesh are known to be fierce warriors. When they thunder across the sands into battle they are known to yell a shrill war cry which carries across the dunes. As a child Brankh would cry out these challenges during gangland brawls. And that's what you now hear now! A high pitched wail of rage!
Brankh remained strangely silent for a while after channelling the divine energy of his Goddesss , an expression of agape wonder on his face. And there was a glow to him, a glorious halo which radiated through the room and then dimmed away like an ember once the channelling was complete.
Nice work! Everyone gather round. That devil will burn in the blackening fires of hell,but we know another flame which is purity, light and passion for life. Feel it my friends as we gather in it's heat. Quickly the room gets very hot. Blood and sweat seem to boil away. It hurts so good.
In the heat of battle Brankh sees the vile creature tearing at the stalwart warrior. He cries out in dismay, "You're hurt, Thorin! Break off from the fight next time so I can tend to your wound!" And then he winds up to take another swipe... Blessed, Sarenrae. I know I'm a wretched sinner. Oh, but hear my plea and guide my blade this time!"
Another big swipe!
Yelling a curse worthy of an orcish nursery school, Brankh spits and then throws down his spear. He reaches back and brandishes his mighty falchion! Grinning, he reaches out with his long arms and swings the broad blade in a sweeping arch against the nearest blob.
Earlier, Brankh caught Catila as she sheepishly gathered jewelry from the corpses. He replied to her glances superciliously, Were this a hallowed grave the theft would be an offense to my Goddess on High. But this is no hallowed grave to my eyes. It represents rather the fane of a degenerate and heretical sect. I take no offense in your pilfering. Nor do I share in the looting of these rude baubles. You may eventually feel the need however, to expiate your sinful feelings with a donation to the Church of the Dawnflower.
Brankh moves to the back of the crypt, prodding with his spear. Does he hear anything unusual? Can he find another back door like the one in the last crypt?
Of course. Anything for you, sir. I've seen you looking at her.
Well, the next one in clockwise order from Crazy Hair is the Busty Babe. Let's say we try to move her first?
Maybe all you do is just push on a statue to activate it...but I don't want to get zapped like you did earlier, Cole. And what do these runelords represent anyway? It is hard to see. The one having a bad hair day - is she crazy - wrathful?
If the smiling man were sloth we would have the Seven Deadly Sins! I didn't pay attention in Sunday school....but they loved to teach me those - I was guilty of all of them! And the black statue. One face is life - the baby. The other - death - the hourglass. The third....can't say. Do the marks beneath the statues show that the statues turn? Which way did they move in the past?
Brankh will stand guard with the spear...looking around for anything unusual. Look up. What's on the ceiling?
Brankh starts by lighting a torch at the opposite end from the statue Catila is looking at. Once Catila moves on to the next statue, Brankh will install a torch there. So there will be torches at opposite ends of the room. "Thorin, will you descend with me to install torches at the lower level as well? I would prefer to stay together, but I think we will all benefit from a fully lit room right now, don't you think?"
Runelords! My master Nehruha used to talk about them....ramble on about the history of Varisia. I wish I had paid more attention. Would that he were here to see this! There were supposed to be seven. Here we have 7 white Lords. One black! So, where should we start? Do you need any healing Cole? Brankh looks at each of the statues. Who were these people? Perhaps we should organize ourselves a little here? If we spread about the room without a thought, one of us might be vulnerable to attack from some fiend or another.
Brankh speaks in a whisper....which seems to come out clearly through his expressive manner and intonation. "Dr. its ...who the hell is it? A Runelord...the lady with the wild hair...who is she again?....look, you can all try to fit into here - but you'll get zapped if you're not really careful. And you heard Cole yelping. I'm sure it hurts. It looks like there are other ways in here, but I do not like the idea of us splitting up. I was a fool to just follow that rogue into this room - without asking you first Doctor - or even without offering my prayers for a blessing. I am sorry. If you all decide to come through - at least give me your hands first, so that I may hold them as I pray for your protection. Cole, does the Warrior Maiden have any blessings to bestow?"
Brankh whispers a stern warning to those who would follow. "Stop!. Be wary. This statue will zap you if you touch it!"
Brankh sticks his head through the opening to look for the thief. "Psst!" he whispers, "Stay close, damn it! Come back here and tell us what you saw."
Brankh inspects the rune and shrugs his ignorance.
"Surround the cursed, black thing! You are bright warriors. It is no match for you!" Brankh's hand is on the holy symbol, which hangs around his neck. His other hand on the club. He watches the battle unfold, waiting to step in and take action when needed.
Brankh sees Alanthian pulling away. He swears under his breath for a moment. Realizing that the rogue is backing into an alcove has no time to pull out his potion....and seeing the blood pooling on the floor at his feet - he has little choice - he calls out to his Goddess for mercy. Clutching his symbol a flash of heat fills the corridor....like the warmth of the sun on the skin on a cold day...the warmth which coaxes out the flowers in spring and draws the bear from his lair to seek food. Ahhhhh!
Defend yourself well, Alanthian...until we can assist you!
Never fear, boys! The Fire of Heaven protects us! Brankh's hand clasps his holy symbol and begins to smoulder. Then he holds out his arm and a searing hot bolt of magical flame shoots out at the skeleton with the ranseur.
Brankh swears loudly in Orcish after firing the shot.
Brankh shudders as if chilled and reaches behind. He draws out a smooth, heavy timber with a knotted end- which had been tied to the outside of his pack. He puts down the longspear. With one hand on his holy symbol and the other holding the club he advances behind Thorin.
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