HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Elsewhere In Varisia...:
Winters in Varisia are cold, much like anywhere else, but the weather there turns rainy rather than snowy. And here in Janderhoff, it has been raining for two days straight, turning the light gray stone of the Sky Citadel dark and puddle-strewn. Its angular construction funnels the rainwater into channels that fill reservoirs and rain barrels alike. The rain is cold and unrelenting, much like the dour folk that built its strong, sturdy walls millennia ago upon the completion of their Quest For Sky.
Azisi had felt the storm coming long before its first thundercrack. She felt it in her lower back, the site of an old wound that had once been healed by priestly magics. While the cleric had mended the flesh and staunched the bleeding, she could always feel when the weather would turn and her lower back would stiffen. It was days like these she hated the most, as this is when she was reminded of everything she'd lost. Her old position, her reputation as one of Janderhoff's greatest cavescouts, her two sons...
No, she thinks, reaching for a crystal bottle half full of Taldan brandy. One. I have one son. And he is dead.
She pours herself a glass of the brandy, draining it swiftly and with practiced ease. Her hands tremble as she sits down the glass. Cold in here, she says to herself. She glanced up at the open doors to the balcony on her room, watching as the winds blew the diaphanous window dressings in its strong breeze. The rain falls upon the outer half of her balcony, preventing most of the rain from getting into her room. The wind that permeates the room is frigid enough that she can see her breath in the air, and she rises to close the doors. She needs another drink, though, and pours herself another snifter full of the brandy. Her hands steady slightly as she closes and latches the doors, and she raises the snifter to her lips again to empty the glass for a second time.
"You should slow down," calls a voice from within her room, graveled and even. "Even for a dwarf, you need to pace yourself."
Azisi jumps at the admonishment, causing her to lose grasp of the glass, which shatters on the stone floor. "Who is there?", she shouts, searching in vain for the source. It had been some time since she'd had to use her training, but even in her state she could tell this person - male, definitely - was good at keeping themselves hidden. "Guards! There's an intruder in my chamber!"
"There won't be anyone coming," he replies with cool reassurance. "That sounds worse than it is. They're just unconscious. They'll have one Hell of a headache when they wake up, but they'll be fine. I just didn't want us to be interrupted."
Azisi grimaces at the reply, circling the room slowly, searching for whatever corner the intruder was hiding himself in. "I'm being targeted then. What for?"
"Simple," a voice whispers from directly behind her, making the old cavescout jump once again. "I needed to have one last conversation with you."
She spins, swinging a wildly off-balance hook at the man behind her, but he dodges - no, bends, almost unnaturally - away from her punch. Losing control of her momentum, she staggers and trips over her chair, tumbling ass over teakettle onto the floor. Looking up, she sees another dwarf, wearing a breastplate made of shadows and a fine longsword peacebonded at his hip. Her eyes widen as she notices the dwarf's tossled mop of black hair and piercing gray eyes, as well as his complete lack of a beard.
"Bruendor!", she spits, scarcely believing that he of all people would dare show his face here.
"Yes," he says with some resignation as he reached out a hand to help her to her feet. "Let me help you up, mother."
"I don't need your help, Sundered!", she cries, slapping his hand away, slowly finding her feet. "You have no right to be here in Janderhoff. Torag still has not forgiven you for your transgression." She rights the chair she tumbled over and takes her seat back at her table.
"I know," he says. "If the Sky Magistrates find me here, I am to be apprehended and executed for breaking the terms of my Sundering. Never return until a hundred and one dwarven lives are saved in exchange for failing to save Imrik. My brother.
"Mother, I..." he starts, seeing her tense with fury as he calls her by that familiar term. He clears his throat to start again. "Azisi, I believe that he never intended to keep that promise."
"Unlikely," she scoffs, folding her arms around her. "Saving those lives would be your crucible. Burn out in the fire or be purified into something stronger and better."
"And what if the forgemaster does nothing with the iron in the crucible?" he asks, meeting her gaze with his own unwavering stare. "What if the steel melts and purifies and does everything the forgemaster intended the steel to do, and then is never put into a mold?"
Azisi was about to reply when she finally sees into Bruendor's eyes. This was not the same disgraced man who was thrown out of Janderhoff, but someone who had undergone trials - physical, mental, perhaps spiritual - and come out the other side. There is a steel in his words and voice that had not been in the same man who had the Sundering placed upon him and his beard stripped from him.
Bruendor senses his opening, and continues. "One hundred and one dwarves, mother. That's all he wanted. A mere pittance of the length and breadth of all the dwarves that draw breath under Sarenrae's light. And I did it. And then some. I saved every gods-damned one of us - not just the dwarves, but all of us. All the lives on the planet saved. And he still didn't give me my damned beard back!"
Azisi finally recovers from her shock, and laughs at Bruendor's words. "Like Hell you did," she says mockingly. "Like Hell you could! You're no hero, you couldn't save your own flesh and blood from dying in the Darklands! I don't care whether you killed the Whispering Tyrant or closed the Worldwound or prevented another gods-damned Earthfall-"
"I mean, I actually did one of those," he mutters under his breath as she rants.
"-you are as dead to me as your brother is!"
The silence that follows after her words lingers in the room for some time. When he speaks again, it is in even tones.
"I don't care if you believe me, Azisi. In fact, it doesn't matter if you believe me or not. All that matters is that I know I saved the world, and so does He." He withdraws a wooden holy symbol of Torag and places it softly on the table. "And if he knows, and reneges on his end of the deal, then he's a right bastard."
She begins to object, but he continues over her. "And you're right. I didn't save Imrik that day. I saved you. And looking at how you've handled yourself over the last few years, I can see that you were right, all those years ago. I should never have saved you. You, who used your influence to get me cast out. You, who drank away your fading years until you had to be stripped of your own rank. You, who live on the mercy of those who remember what you did years ago, knowing your best days are behind you. I'm glad my brother never lived to see what you became."
She moves to strike him, but he catches her wrist with practiced ease. She couldn't deny it any longer - she had slown down in her advancing years, and Bruendor had gotten faster. He pushed her back down into her chair with a force that surprised her, and she balled her fists in impotent rage.
"You'll never see me again, mother," he says, rising from the table. "I'll never darken the halls of Janderhoff again, if I can help it. And you'll find I've left you a small pittance of my wealth to live off of - if you ration it well, it should get you through the rest of your life, especially if you keep drinking like that." He glances to the bottle of brandy that sits between them, its crystal gleaming in the dim light. "I just wanted you to know that you were absolutely wrong for casting me out. You, the priests that went along with it, - all of you were wrong. But somehow, all that placed me in the right place to do the right thing. And thanks to that, we all get to live.
"Except Imrik. He is dead. He has to be. I couldn't find him when I went into Zirnakaynin. Not even any mention of him. Knowing what I know now about them...I have to believe him dead. Any other option is just too terrible to comprehend." For a moment, Azisi sees frailty in her son's eyes, and for a moment, she feels an old, uncomfortable desire to hold him to her breast and let him cry out the pain he has been holding within him.
The moment passes, and she sees the familiar steel come back over him. "Keep the symbol," he says, withdrawing another one from his pouch, this one of a smoldering forge. "I have a new one. I always was a terrible worshipper of Torag, but I find Angradd may still have use of an imperfect tool." He leaves her, moving swiftly to the balcony door and diving off the ledge.
She rushes to her feet, calling his name at the top of her voice. "Bruendor! I'm sorry! Please!", she screams into the storm, her face pelted with the rain, soaking her to the skin with the downpour. No response comes. She stays there for sometime, thankful that in the rain, no one can tell of the drops are her tears.
Bruendor easily makes his way out of Janderhoff, also drenched by the rain. He puts on his new holy symbol, kissing the forge and drying the rain off of it. "We've work to do in Kyonin, don't we?" he says. He wipes the rain from his face, and suddenly freezes. Slowly, with trembling hands, he removes the glove from his right hand and gingerly runs it across his mouth and cheek.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor hears the words the marilith spoke, but the contents did nothing to sway his heart. "She's a problem for a different day," he replies to Anklebiter. "And if all we've done is delay the second apocalypse for the timebeing, well...it was worth it. It means we have time to figure out where the knowledge is, and get rid of it. No one was meant to have this power."
He sits down for a long moment, letting out a breath that carries with it a weight he'd been carrying for...too long. "I haven't been this tired since we saved the people we could from Skyfall's aftermath. Fitting, I suppose - now that Second Earthfall won't be happening, isn't it?"
He nods at the goblin's suggestion. "Definitely, let's ldt her know that Orv is free of the drow. She might be willing to transport us back to the surface for this, once we've recovered." More was on his mind, to be sure, but he had to process his thoughts before he could articulate them to his friends.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor twists Bloodbane as he lands the killing blow, watching the fear in her eyes as the demons she trafficked with drag her down to whatever torments they have devised.
After staring at the blackened spot on the floor for a moment, he finally registers Anklebiter's words. "Oh, no, I'd rather live if that's still on the table! How can I help?"
Bruendor takes advantage of the distraction AB has afforded him, and manages to find a way past the drow's defenses.
Calla wrote:
"Hey!" Calla barks. "That goblin is worth more than all you drow put together. No one insults him but me!"
"That's true!", Bruendor shouts back. "That's how we know she cares about us! Now get back here!" He runs to cut off Allevrah, maneuvering behind her - readying a strike for when Lefrik charges in behind her.
Taking 30' movement from blessing of fervor this round. Move to P67 and ready an attack for when Lefrik moves into flank. I'll put that down below in spoilers. AC is normal this round.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Certainly true. I'm glad you didn't get killed by a freaking gorilla with a falchion way back when, and not just because of the healing.
Bruendor gasps again as Kel lays a comforting hand upon his shoulder - his soul was nearly ripped from him moments earlier, and now he was feeling it being replanted within him again. The shakiness in his knees disappears, and he regains what feels like his third wind of this last, desperate fight.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor waits for his chance, and then dives south, circling around Allevrah. He bends as she swings at him, wincing as his body screams in protest. A while longer, then you can rest, he thinks.
Taking the +2 to AC and attack rolls this round, and attempt to Acrobatics my way into X69. AC this round is 28.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor screams as he feels Allevrah's magic attack him directly in his soul, threatening to tear it straight from his body. It is a pain unlike any he's ever experienced, and he's had months to catalogue new ways to be dealt harm. He staggers to a knee, his vision tunnels, blackens...
...but somehow, he manages to hold on, refocus his sight. He rises, unsteady from the spiritual assault, but unbowed. "Six deaths seem a small price to pay for everyone else up there, witch," he spits at her, his eyes fixed upon the corrupted elf with righteous fury. "Either you die by our hand or your own magic's. Either way...YOU. LOSE."
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Sorry, been having a bad time figuring out what to do here. Our options are weird.
With control of his limbs again, Bruendor looks back to AB. "I'm going to go support Lef, I'll be back if she tries to make it to you!" With the preternatural speed on loan from Kel, he barrels towards the architect of this whole endeavor, his blade lowered. "Your magic can't save you, Allevrah! This ends today!"
Choosing speed this round, and I'll charge at Allevrah, which should put me about at V69. That grants a +2 to hit but a -2 to AC, for an AC of 24 this round.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Once again, Bruendor calls on his mental reserves and breaks free of the compulsion, commanding his limbs to move again. He affixes his glare to Allevrah, raising his blade again with an intent of finality.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Will, hardy:1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 6 + 2 = 18
Bruendor's mind is assaulted once again, and this time the dark elf's words have a power he can't ignore. The familiar feeling of his limbs freezing up takes ahold of him, leaving him little to do but stare at Allevrah with hate in his eyes.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor grins at his goblin friend's plan, and nods. "She'll have to get past me to get to you, AB." He moves towsrds the front of the alcove that houses the final glyph, and watches the dark elf for her next move.
Move to M67. I'll take the bonus to AC this round.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Also, that's going to be killer if Allevrah keeps diving in and out of her own blade barrier without taking any damage. We'll need to do something about that as well.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor barely winces as the blast of unmitigated chaos slams into him, challenging his desire for order in the world. He's forced back a step, but only a step - and continues on to Allevrah, circling around behind her.
"Time for you to die, witch!"
Taking the bonus to move again and circling around Allevrah to avoid AoOs to end up at H69.
If that hits, I'd like to use Butterfly's Sting to pass off the confirmed crit to the next person to hit Allevrah with a melee attack before the start of my next turn.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor curses as he sees Lefrik charge through the whirling wall of blades. "I'm going to go help Lef!", he shouts to his friends, glancing at the wall and looking for an opportune moment to dive through it.
I'm going to use blessing of fervor to get an extra 30' movement this turn, and move to M64. That will draw a whole metric ton of AoOs from Orange Drow Soldier and both Red And Yellow Drow Priestess. Sorry, Lef - can't quite make it to you this round. It looks like I'll also need to make a Reflex save to avoid the blade barrier, but I can deal with that. Once I'm there, I'll attack Yellow - since the dino has a 15' reach, I'm flanking her!
Reflex, hardy:1d20 + 15 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 15 + 2 = 22
Oof, not great - I'll use one of those anniversary rerolls here.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Will, hardy:1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 6 + 2 = 25
Bruendor feels the familiar sense of someone else's will trying to subsume his own. "Not today, witch!", he shouts as he throws off the compulsion. "My mind is my own!"
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Use your anger, Bruendor thinks to himself. Harness your fury. Get your revenge upon these bastards that took your brother. His mental scream changes to one that echoes throughout the cavern as he wills his limbs to move. He raises his blade against the final drow warrior.
"Your friends couldn't kill me when they had a chance," he growls as he advances, his voice hoarse from the exertion of breaking the spell upon him. "Do some math - what chance do you have against us?"
That was a full round action, so I should get a 5' step to S69.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Well, surviving two more CdGs this campaign was fun and all, but let's see if I can get out of this. If I don't make the save I'll be using those rerolls, which I had honestly forgotten about.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Fort save:1d20 + 14 ⇒ (12) + 14 = 26 Fort save:1d20 + 14 ⇒ (14) + 14 = 28
Bruendor winces as the twin blades skewer him, feeling them stab deep into his vitals.
But, as previous drow have found, he is not so easily killed. He stares back at his would-be assassins with mocking fury. Can't even kill me right, you damned indies.
Bruendor feels a familiar chilling sensation upon him, and while he is able to fight it off at first, eventually one of the spells takes hold and his limbs freeze.
Welp, I think we all knew this is how I was going to go out.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
I believe I should currently be in U69.
Bruendor quickly analyzes the battlefield, and clicks his heels together. He kicks off the earth elemental and attempts to slide past the drow warrior with the streak of teal in his white hair.
Grabbing the +2 to AC and attack from blessing of fervor this round. I'm going to try to tumble through the teal drow's square and end up in S68. Activating my daredevil boots, so I get a +5 to the Acrobatics check. Assuming I make it there, I will attack him with flanking and sneak. My AC this round is 28.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
"Keep up the pressure!", Bruendor shouts back at his team, scarcely drawing his attention away from the drow warriors in front of him. "Our feet are in the door, don't let them push us back!"
Using the extra attack action portion of blessing of fervor this round. AC is back to normal. I'll attack purple first, followed by blue if that one happens to die.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
"C'mon, Lef!", Bruendor shouts at his brother at arms. "Stop messing around with that demon and kill it! We've bigger problems!" He ducks under the legs of the rampaging tsunami in front of him, dropping his longsword as he goes, pulling Bloodbane at last. I've heard you clamoring for indy blood, friend, so now you will drink your fill.
Move to V69, drop my longsword, pull my rapier, and attack the drow in U69. Again, I'll take +2 to AC and attack, bringing my AC to 28 this round. Also, the elementals threaten that drow, so Gang Up means he's flatfooted.
Bruendor dodges as best he can, but is grazed by a pair of bolts. His arm goes numb for a moment, and his vision tunnels, but he shakes his head to clear it, and the debilitating poison passes over him with little effect. "Not bad, lads, got anything stronger?", he quips, already planning his next move.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
With his blade drawn, Bruendor advances upon the vrock, pincering it between his cold iron sword and the earth elemental's stone fists. "I think I've lost count of how many vulture demons I've killed," he says to it as his blade slashes out. "But I'm always ready to add another tally mark."
5' step to Y67 and attack the grey vrock. I don't think I can take advantage of the extra attack from blessing of fervor with my speed longsword, so I'll take the +2 to attack and AC, bringing my AC to 28 this round. Also, I have Sacred Sneak Attack, so my sneak damage is considered good aligned.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor spies the dark elf behind all this madness on the far side of the room, and reaches into a pouch to withdraw a gem. "Time to see what's inside this baby," he mutters, throwing it into the room.
If we're assuming we divvied up the elemental gems, then I'll throw one. Not too worried about which one I get, so I'm good with a random roll, if that's where we want to go.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Finally got the numbers into the sheet that I dedicated earlier. Here's a few thoughts I have:
So, Lef and I need to start cutting our way to the dias. Calla and AB probably should start out on taking down some vrocks, because we can't get to them easily and I think they're going to dance of ruin us if we don't deal with them fast. Kel, I doubt any of us would argue with a blessing of fervor to start things off.
HP 150/155, AC 26/13/24, F +14, R +15, W +6, Init +2, Per +16 (+19 traps)
Bruendor begins to circle the demon, trying to get it into a more disadvantageous position. Considering its immense size, it's a longer stride than he's able to make, so he makes a few feints at the beast before delivering his true strike.
5' step to AE-66, feint as a move action, and attack, hopefully with sneak. Taking the bonus to attack and AC, bringing my AC to 28 this round.
