Dauswil grunts as the flames pass by the phantom, it doesn't appear to unsettle him but he moves towards Motueka give the skeleton a wary gaze.
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"Raaaguh, they burned down my pub and now you wish to try the same? It won't be so easy anymore." he roars as he swings both mugs at the skeleton that is aflame.
"Nooooooooo!" Duaswil cries out lurching forward to stop the attackers, reaching out for the yellow skeleton.
"At least it isn't me spooking people. Some of these dangerous trips you go on...the screams of those people, I can still hear them. I am a monster..." he moans but still moves towards the stone circle on the right.
"You have no clueee why the plants tried to kill youuuu? More could appear at any momeeeeeent" Dauswill wails as the priest is unable to provide any information. He peers outside wearily for more threats.
"Okay...okay but if you die I will be alone...and drifting here." he warns before striking out.
"You are shaking and you still come closer...no matter. Pumpkin creature...you are to focus on me." he says before swinging out with his mugs again.
"Hide somewhere you silly hop...they could hurt you. Do you see what bravery got meeeeee?" Dauswil wails as he steps forward swinging his mugs at the creature.
Each mug leaves a trail of sickly liquid trailing behind as they whistle a dirge through the air.
"Yes, yeeeees. It cannot wait. Death is coming." Dauswil moans as he is pushed inside. He reaches for the tea before realizing it did not matter...instead he looks at the mugs in his hands and sobs quietly.
"A grisly end indeed. There was so much suffering here."
"Oooooh, my head. Never was I told that you keep feelin pain after death." Dauswil looks around and hunches of protectively near Motueka. "What troubles have come down upon us now, little one? Will more be joining me in this hellish limbo?" he asks.
"If only, I may have passed on then...but no. I suppose the liquid courage kicked in one night and I had enough of being shook down for protection money." the phantom speaks up as he takes a gulp from one of the tankards. He touches the bloodied one to the spot on his temple, [b]"The pain...was sharp but only lasted a moment before there was nothing. Not a single feeling as I stared at the ceiling watching my brewery burn down but I feared for Motueka more than anything."[b] His features grow darker and more sullen as he attempts to wrap his arms around the leshy.
"Yes...that is my name...still chained to this world. At least I have you my cherished bloom." the phantom wails, the feeling of distress emanating from him. He wraps his ghastly tendrils around Motueka, allowing you to notice he holds two large mugs in his hands...one of which has a bright crimson smear on an otherwise washed out image. Another red streak is visible across the temple of the phantoms head.
Dauswil nods and bites his tongue instead of his usual cries of despair. "I will carry the poor girl's body." he says with an unmistakable tone of pain.
Dauswil shakes off the fatigue and heads over to the creature. "To die afraid....it isn't a proper way to go...will you linger in this world longer?" he asks the creature before returning to Motueka's side. The little leshy shakes his head and pats the phantom.
Dauswil's typical moaning ceases for a moment as he goes quiet and attacks with both tankards.
After the assault he begins to breathe heavily as the adrenaline fades. "I won't let anything hurt you, my friend."
"Foolish creature...you should have learned when to stay hidden...I wish I had." Dauswil roars as he move to strike the affected CSG.
Miserable Strike (Su): If the phantom hits a creature with a slam attack, that creature must succeed at a Will saving throw (DC = 10 + 1/2 the phantom’s Hit Dice + the phantom’s Charisma modifier) or take a –2 penalty on attack and damage rolls for 1 round. This is a mind-affecting fear and emotion (UM) effect. Penalties from multiple hits don’t stack with themselves.
"Yes, stay behind me little ones and let me suffer in your stead." he quietly growls while moving himself to the front of the group mugs at the ready.
"Why do you scream? You have yet to be given a reason!" Duaswil howls threateningly as he moves closer to the manta-like creature.
Dauswil's form glows brighter when the moan of the creature pierces the air and he replies with one of his own while stomping closer to the flying creature. "The despair and pain...I know it too well!"
The tattered spirit grows forth from the small leshy much like before but no longer an apparition instead a physical manifestation in grayscale. The wounds are even more clear and his voice more painful. "What dreadful mess have you gotten into now? Are you to die as well and join me as a ghost?" he says leading Motueka outside with the others.
"I told you this place was no good. Look at this thing...suffering here." he moans but listens to the words closely.
"They never see what that don't want to see. I was always invisible until they wanted their cut. I can go unseen still maybe even more so now." Dauswil moans coming into view this time more ethereal.
Dauswil steps up and batters the beastman with both of his tankards drinking in their state of fear.
"You can struggle but it consumes us all in the end."
Miserable Strike: If the phantom hits a creature with a slam attack, that creature must succeed at a Will saving throw (DC = 10 + 1/2 the phantom’s Hit Dice + the phantom’s Charisma modifier) or take a –2 penalty on attack and damage rolls for 1 round. This is a mind-affecting fear and emotion (UM) effect. Penalties from multiple hits don’t stack with themselves.
"What a MISERABLE creature! Do you want to suffer more throwing yourself at us!" the spirit bellows in an agony it wishes to share after trudging closer.
"Very well, it may not end well for any of us." the ectoplasmic Dauswil whispers in a warbling tone.
I'd agree that moving may end up being a bit more trouble for ongoing games but I am fluid with whatever the groups decide. I will personally be learning another website in case of future troubles though.
Through Motueka's speech a phantom of a man begins to appear wreathed in negative energy. As his form finishes appearing the man's ghostly flesh is jaundiced and the capillaries of blood are clearly visible but pulse with the same negative energy. "Sh-drinking is shwat made me like this, little bulb! Don't shhhtart down the samesh road...lookit they did ta me shhtomach." he slurs painful whispers pointing out the deep gash across his traditional Tien Garb with the tankards that never leave his hands. |