The spirit is very swift and evades all of Zzvkgrogk's laser shots.
Yambul connects twice, the anointed saw cutting through for true, despite only damaging the essence part on the material plane. No DR but incorporeability
One of Khalia's arrows make it through for good measure, despite the ghostly touch, the spirit is still well resistant. DR
Rhoreen vs SR:1d20 + 12 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 12 + 4 = 35
Rhoreen pierces through the ghost's defenses, her missiles harming fully into the spirit's world.
Rūha's shot is accurate, and the magically powered electricity damages the ghost partially. No DR but incorporeability
Slam:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 261d6 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11 Slam:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 271d6 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
The robot approaches Rūha but once more she blocks both slams.
The sovereign shies away from the dangerous saw, slightly floating away into a save spot +19 Fly so, auto-success to float. She looks at the powerful wielder and her eyes shine red.
Yambul or Spellcraft DC 24:
Yambul is assaulted by a dominate monsterWill DC 26, and senses a non concrete request to stop the fight.
First Sovereign: 178 damage, retribution r6
Robot: 32 damage
Party buffs: life bubble 4 h, advice (+3)
Khalia: longstrider 12 h
Yambul: 20 damage, shield 11 min, heroism 4 h, bubonic plague (+1 dose), slimy doom, 1 Con damage, 2 Cha damage
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 4: First Sovereign, Zzvkgrogk, Rūha, Khalia, Yambul, Rhoreen
Will DC 23:1d20 + 17 ⇒ (4) + 17 = 21
This time Rhoreen's rod makes its work and the ghost gets overcursed.
Yambul uses some blessing liquids to anoint his weapon. A sacred chainsaw non the less!
Khalia's salted arrows harm the incorporeal but not as much as expected DR, and she avoid the last two shots.
Slam:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 281d6 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8 Slam:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 141d6 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
The robot attempts to get on Rūha but she deftly blocks both slams.
Inflict serious wounds (touch):1d20 + 25 ⇒ (1) + 25 = 26
On the other side, the ghost floats over to Yambul, but makes an incredibly predictable move the Kellid quickly avoids. The ghostly hand keeps shining with negative energy.
First Sovereign: 64 damage, retribution r6
Robot: 32 damage
Party buffs: life bubble 4 h, advice (+3)
Khalia: longstrider 12 h
Yambul: 20 damage, shield 11 min, heroism 4 h, bubonic plague (+1 dose), slimy doom, 1 Con damage, 2 Cha damage
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 3: Robot, Zzvkgrogk, Rūha, Khalia, Yambul, Rhoreen
Rūha vs SR:1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29 Ref DC 21:1d20 + 17 ⇒ (8) + 17 = 25 Ref DC 21:1d20 + 0 ⇒ (13) + 0 = 13
Rūha pushes through the Sovereign ghostly defenses, but still the magic only half affects the incorporeal. The robot takes it almost full and is only protected by its hardness.
Zzvkgrogk further harms the ghost, though she avoids one of the shots.
You can see the rage on her eyes, but seems unable to answer the ratfolk.
First Sovereign: 47 damage
Robot: 32 damage
Party buffs: life bubble 4 h, advice (+3)
Khalia: longstrider 12 h
Yambul: 6 damage, shield 11 min, heroism 4 h, bubonic plague (+1 dose), slimy doom, 1 Con damage, 2 Cha damage
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 2: Robot, Zzvkgrogk, Rūha, Khalia, Yambul, Rhoreen
Zzvkgrogk's shot finds the sovereign, the magical laser only taking half the vitality of the entity.
Yambul shields himself while he waits for Rhoreen to share her incommensurate knowledge about the creature's defenses.
I would assume she shares that info, but one never knows with Rhoo! :D
Rūha assesses the robot is very standard for what the group has been fighting so far, with construct immunities and good hardness (10).
Khalia starts to shoot arrows at the climbing robot, each arrow breaking through the hull until it is totally shattered and destroyed despite its natural hardness.
Will DC 23:1d20 + 17 ⇒ (18) + 17 = 35
Rhoreen tries to curse the ghost, but it seems so badly cursed already she refuses to get even more.
"Usurpers!" she shouts in rage as the possessed robot fells. She automatically possess another one, which starts moving and climbing up while she flies up the ziggurat to touch Yambul.
Inflict serious wounds (touch):1d20 + 25 ⇒ (5) + 25 = 30 Negative energy damage (Will DC 20 for half):3d8 + 15 ⇒ (8, 3, 2) + 15 = 28
Despite his agility and magical shield, the ghost touches the Kellid, opening vicious wounds on him.
The second robot does not reach further away from where the first one fell.
First sovereign: 18 damage
Robot: 91 damage, destroyed
Party buffs: life bubble 4 h, advice (+3)
Khalia: longstrider 12 h
Yambul: 6 damage, shield 11 min, heroism 4 h, bubonic plague (+1 dose), slimy doom, 1 Con damage, 2 Cha damage
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 2: Robot, Zzvkgrogk, Rūha, Khalia, Yambul, Rhoreen
Thanks to Rhoreen and Rūha's swift warning you are not caught by surprise when ghost takes possession of the dismantled robot at her "feet" and it starts moving towards you.
Thanks to his new found vision, as Yambul steps settle on the stone walkway, he notes the stillness breaks.
A shudder runs through the debris below. A severed robot torso twitches. Then stray lenses and cracked visors swivel unnaturally. Something vast and anguished stirs in the hollow beneath the ziggurat.
A voice, layered, distant, and full of ancient rage echoes up the shaft "At last... new pretenders walk my hall"
Metal grinds. Rusted frames begin, one by one, to rise to their feet.
Seems you have awakened the ghost and she not greet you with kindness "You are not Kevoth-Khul, but you look like a Black Sovereign. Is this your tribute?"
She looks at the roaring chainsaw with rage.
Sense Motive DC 25:
You get the sense this entity hates all things technological, and by the looks of it, the Black Sovereigns have been bringing him robots and tech wonders to destroy to appease him.
By the looks of rusty on the metal, you would tell it has been a long time since the last tribute was payed, the thing seems thirty and angry.
K. nobility DC 18 or K. history DC 25:
Through your lessons of history and kingship, you do recognize this figure as the ghost of the First Sovereign, Amalokla.
K. religion DC 25:
You do recognize the ghost as a Dybbuk, an angry incorporeal, resentful for its lost of a body.
A dybbuk is a misplaced soul who has eluded judgment because of a some great transgression or a pitiful suicide. Like a ghost, it lingers on in the mortal world, either trying to fulfill an insane need to right some great failure that has marked its soul for eternity or merely to spread the torment it is condemned to face for eternity. Bodiless and left to wander, dybbuks grow increasingly bitter and resentful over the loss of their bodies and endlessly seek mortal or even inanimate forms to steal and use to sow suffering. Vile manipulators, they seek bodies that have the greatest potential to cause pain in those closest to their victims, taking pleasure in shifting a leader’s agenda toward the destruction of her followers or torturing an innocent from within. Dybbuks also often animate unliving things to spread fear, reveling in the chaos resulting from manipulating corpses to confuse and terrify. Most also realize they have all of eternity to torment their chosen victims, and might lurk quietly near a living target for weeks or months, waiting for the right moment to act and begin their terrors anew.
It seems the creature is trying to possess one of the broken robots in order to attack you!
---
It is your decision on what you want to claim or not. If you want to claim and write down things you cannot carry right now, no worries, as I expect you can come back here at a later time behind the scenes.
As you leave the vault behind and step into the yawning dark, your lights stretch out into a space so vast it seems to swallow the sound of your footsteps.
C44. Bonehall A stone walkway extends over an inverted ziggurat carved into the stone floor of this vast cavern. The walkway is supported by several stone pillars that elevate it twenty feet above the surrounding cave floor, while each tier of the ziggurat drops five feet to a depth of thirty-five feet in the center, where a ten foot diameter pit yawns. Swaths of strangely colored luminescent mold grow on stalactites hanging from the ceiling thirty feet above the cave floor, while scattered throughout are the rusted, jumbled fragments of partially deconstructed Numerian automatons of all shapes and sizes.
The flickering colors throw jagged shadows across the heaps scattered across the tiers like discarded toys of a long-dead god. And beneath it all carries a faint, steady whisper of cold air rising from the pit.
As Rūha names it, you all feel it.
A presence. Watching. Waiting.
Large cavern revealed on the map, please position your tokens. The central platform you are in is 35' above the cave floor.
The door resists your initial efforts, but when Khalia puts her hands in and the nanites start to surge, the door almost magically concedes letting you in with a hard metallic noise.
The walls of this huge vault are plated with black metal that shimmers with green energy. The chamber seems to be built as a treasure vault, but the vault seems woefully understocked, with far more empty shelves than full ones. What treasures remain, though, seem exotic and unusual.
The treasure that remains consists of 28,000 gp worth of gems, coins,
baubles and trinkets scattered among the alcoves, a suit of +2 moderate fortification hide armor, a frost brand, a +2 seeking composite longbow (+5 Str), an ebony wand case worth 250 gp that contains three magic arrows (a dragon-slaying arrow, a magical beast slaying arrow, and an undead-slaying arrow), a rod of lordly might, a rod of wonder, a timeworn HEV suit with 20 charges, a jetpack, a trauma pack plus, a timeworn EMP cannon with 42 charges, and a glove of storing that contains an entropy facet.
Khalia connects with a single arrow, but the silver lodges deep, unimpeded by the creature's skin.
Rūha loses balance as she tumbles through and fails short of reaching the daemon with her punch.
1d9 ⇒ 2
The arrow does not inject a new disease on Yambul but makes one already on him stronger.
He manages to remain on foot to cut hard with his chainsaw on vital points of the creature's anatomy.
The blows are devastating and the summoned daemon just disappears into nothingness!
Combat is over!
Black: 130 damage
Party buffs: advise (+3), life bubble 4 h
Khalia: longstrider 12 h, debilitating portent r12
Yambul: 114 damage, heroism 4 h, bubonic plague (+1 dose), slimy doom, 3 Con damage, 2 Cha damage
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
The seers owned a few goodies.
Loot:
4x scrolls of cure critical wounds
2x wand of inflict serious wounds (12 charges)
2x light pick
2x amulet of natural armor +1
2x cloak of resistance +3
2x headband of alluring charisma +2
2x ring of force shield
2x ring of protection +1
K. religion DC 15:
You examine the statues and determine they are actual direct depictions of Zyphus, the god of accidental death.
---
The doors to the north are forged from pure adamantine and look the most sturdy ones you have seen in the whole palace, including the entrance ones. They have two masterfully crafted locks instead of a single one!
K. engineering DC 15:
You determine such quality in the doors and the locks, and given the richness symbology crafted on the doors, these doors must hold the Palace Vault! The richness of the Black Sovereign should hide behind.
---
To the east a passage opens into a massive cavern.
Disease 1:1d9 ⇒ 9 Disease 2:1d9 ⇒ 2 Con damage:1d4 ⇒ 2 Cha damage:1d4 ⇒ 2 Con damage:1d4 ⇒ 1
Yambul instantly starts to feel pretty bad by all the diseases gifted by the arrows.
The Kellid connects with his chainsaw helped by Rūha who fails on her opportunity but then strikes both times. The combined force sends the first daemon to trash!
bite:1d20 + 16 ⇒ (12) + 16 = 281d8 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11 Fort DC 24:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Rhoreen is bitten as she moves away, but helps her in fact avoid the flies breath. The daemon resists her magical attack though. A healing burst then takes the frontliners and herself!
Khalia only manages for her first arrows to connect, thanks to Rhoreen's hexing luck, and despite the beast natural resistance, it is just enough to send the menace dead to the ground!
Zzvkgrogk does something heroic!
The two remaining daemons shot their bows at Rūha and Yambul.
composite longbow+PB vs Rūha:1d20 + 20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 20 + 1 = 272d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (2, 5) + 10 + 1 = 18 composite longbow+PB vs Rūha:1d20 + 15 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 15 + 1 = 322d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (3, 3) + 10 + 1 = 17
composite longbow+PB vs Yambul:1d20 + 20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 20 + 1 = 322d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (3, 5) + 10 + 1 = 19 composite longbow+PB vs Yambul:1d20 + 15 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 15 + 1 = 212d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (6, 3) + 10 + 1 = 20
Only one manages to put another arrow on Yambul. He does survive thanks to the healing provided by Rhoreen.
Fort DC 19 for another contagion
Blue: 126 damage, unconscious, dying
Green: 131 damage, dead
Party buffs: advise (+3), life bubble 4 h
Khalia: longstrider 12 h, debilitating portent r12
Yambul: 114 damage, heroism 4 h, bubonick plague, slimy doom, 3 Con damage, 2 Cha damage
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 4: Yambul, Rūha, Rhoreen Round 5: Khalia, Zzvkgrogk (x2), Seers, Daemons
Rhoreen's luck:1d20 ⇒ 121d20 ⇒ 6 Khalia Will Save v DC 19:12 + 11 + 4 = 27 Will Save v DC 19:1d20 + 11 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 11 + 4 = 35 Will Save v DC 19:1d20 + 11 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 11 + 4 = 16
Khalia's attacks are weaker due to the curse, but the silver is crucial for her to harm the daemons, as most of her arrows stick.
Yambul evades the flies as good as he can, reaching the daemon in front to cut with the chainsaw! The weapon is not fully effective but still badly harms the daemon.
Zzvkgrogk shots all past Rhoreen, his special is harmful, but the natural resistance to fire of the daemons protects from most of the rest of the damage.
Fort DC 25:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31
Rūha's ki pushes through the daemon's natural resistance, but the creature endures the strike and keeps moving.
Rhoreen does something heroic!
The green leukodaemon exhales its breath of flies, taking Rhoreen, Zzvkgrogk and Khalia all in!
Slashing damage (Ref DC 21 for half):8d6 ⇒ (3, 5, 6, 2, 1, 5, 2, 2) = 26 Taking damage also makes you sickened 1 min. Finishing your turn on the cloud will inflict extra damage
The other three, step away from Rūha and Yambul, hovering with ease 5' over the ground and attacking them with their bows.
composite longbow+PB vs Yambul:1d20 + 20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 20 + 1 = 272d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (4, 5) + 10 + 1 = 20 composite longbow+PB vs Yambul:1d20 + 15 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 15 + 1 = 192d6 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (3, 2) + 10 + 1 = 16
Rūha needs to pass a Fort DC 19 for the arrow impact then
Yambul advances, searching for cover behind the statues.
Rhoreen brings up some good vibes for the luck!
I think you might mean Khalia (she is the one cursed)
Khalia puts three more arrows on the seer, and only a single one bounces against his armor.
Rūha moves forward while offering some good advise to the party!
Zzvkgrogk fires off a special of his laser that bursts on the breast of the seer, vaporizing him in the mist of flames. The body falls to the ground dead.
Summon chance 35%:1d100 ⇒ 32
The green leukodaemon completes its summoning, and a black leukodaemon appears on the middle of the temple! Then green, disappears and appears at the back of the party!
Black and blue shot at Rūha and Yambul.
composite longbow vs Rūha:1d20 + 20 ⇒ (8) + 20 = 282d6 + 10 ⇒ (2, 4) + 10 = 16 composite longbow vs Rūha:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 342d6 + 10 ⇒ (1, 2) + 10 = 13
composite longbow vs Yambul:1d20 + 20 ⇒ (11) + 20 = 312d6 + 10 ⇒ (5, 4) + 10 = 19 composite longbow vs Yambul:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 312d6 + 10 ⇒ (4, 3) + 10 = 17
Only the two arrows shot at Yambul find their mark, while Rūha blocks the projectiles with her bare hands.
Fort DC 19 (you have a -4 for being in their infectious aura) to avoid being affected by contagion for each arrow impact
The red leukodaemon exhales its breath of flies. A cloud of corpse-bloated, biting black flies envelope both Rūha and Yambul.
Slashing damage (Ref DC 21 for half):8d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 3, 4, 1, 6, 2, 1) = 21 Taking damage also makes you sickened 1 min. Finishing your turn on the cloud will inflict extra damage
The daemons seem immune to the cloud.
Yellow seer: 144 damage, dead
Party buffs: advise (+3), life bubble 4 h
Khalia: longstrider 12 h, debilitating portent r12
Yambul: 68 damage, heroism 4 h
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: 20 damage, mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 2: Yambul, Rūha, Rhoreen Round 3: Khalia, Zzvkgrogk, Seers, Daemons
Zzvkgrogk takes over the first seer and harms the other with his laser.
The remaining seer starts to walk and as he does so, he walks up in the air "Protect the shrine! Kill them all!" he weaves a spell and a debilitating portent clings on Khalia cursing her attacks.
No save; each time you attempt an attack a Will DC 19 is needed to deal full damage
He also says a few quick words that heal his wounds.
Quickened CLW:1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
The leading leukodaemons start shooting arrows at Rūha and Yambul.
composite longbow vs Rūha:1d20 + 20 ⇒ (16) + 20 = 362d6 + 10 ⇒ (6, 4) + 10 = 20 composite longbow vs Rūha:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (10) + 15 = 252d6 + 10 ⇒ (2, 3) + 10 = 15
composite longbow vs Yambul:1d20 + 20 ⇒ (7) + 20 = 272d6 + 10 ⇒ (1, 5) + 10 = 16 composite longbow vs Yambul:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 272d6 + 10 ⇒ (2, 4) + 10 = 16 I think two impact Yambul and maybe one on Rūha but not 100% what defenses are active
The arrows are full of illness for those who are stroke with them.
Fort DC 19 to avoid being affected by contagion for each arrow impact
The last leukodaemon steps forward and starts saying summoning words!
Yellow seer: 7 damage
Black seer: 142 damage, unconscious, dying
Party buffs: life bubble 4 h
Khalia: longstrider 12 h, debilitating portent r12
Yambul: heroism 4 h
Rhoreen: mage armor 24 h, see invisibility 4 h, flight 12 h, heroism 4 h, filter mask
Rūha: mage armor 24 h, heroism 4 h, barkskin 2 h
Round 1: Yambul, Rūha, Rhoreen Round 2: Khalia, Zzvkgrogk, Seers, Daemons
You turn on your lights and cross around the corner to find a chamber full of statues.
C42. Harvestman's Hall
Hundreds of lines of ancient Hallite runes have been chiseled into every inch of this great chamber’s dark basalt walls. A curved stone altar sits in the northern part of the room before a circular dais, which is adorned with images of skeletons rising from graves. Two groups of four statues of a grim-looking figure in a hooded robe wielding a pick made of bones stand guard in the east and west wings. A huge pair of black metal doors stands to the east, while to the south a ten-foot-diameter hole in the wall opens into a larger cavern beyond.
In the middle of the room, there are three beasts with a vulture's skull for a head. They walk on cracked hooves and bear the rotting wings of a carrion bird.
Among them, there are the two Black Seers. One of them points at you "Those are the strangers that took the Palace. Attack!"
K. planes DC 15:
You identify the religious symbology, this temple is consecrated to Zyphus, The Grim Harvestman, god of accidental death and tragedy.
K. planes DC 19:
You do identify the daemons as leukodaemons. They look more powerful than normal ones, they are advanced.
"You can go check the armory, I am sure there are some cold iron arrows and other similar stuff to fight demons, but not sure we usually have to deal with spirits here around" Kul-Inkit points out and you will find masterwork cold iron and silver weapons at your disposal "As far as I know, any magical weapon should be able to harm any aggressive ghost though"
Once you are ready, she leads you down, first through the polished corridors of the palace, then bellow, into a spiral staircase. Your lights flicker over ancient Kellid carvings.
At the bottom, a vast iron door creaks open into a dim chamber. The stench hits first: sweat, wet fur, and decay. A massive three-armed shape stirs from a heap of filthy hides. The creature's tiny eyes blink in the gloom, and you hear the dull thud of a club being dragged across stone.
Kul-Inkit raises a hand calmly "Down, Brogwort. They are friends. Heroes of Starfall, they fight the League, not us"
The hulking athach snorts, confusion wrinkling his malformed face. After a tense pause, he lowers his weapons, his voice a deep rumble "Friends... fight metal men?"
"Yes. Metal men. League bad" she answers firmly.
The creature nods and lumbers aside. Kul-Inkit gestures for you to proceed "He will stay here. Don't provoke him, and he will let you through" she puts her hand over Yambul's shoulder "This is on you now. I have to move back and organize the seize of the city. Once you have Ozmyn, make it sound so we know it is the time to complete the task!"
Beyond the athach's den, a dark passage slopes downward.
"None of our men have been allowed into the compound. We do not have maps of the Technic League's place" explains Kul-Inkit to Rūha.
She nods to Yamul "Yes, we are talking about a real spirit, one who has been trapped in this dungeon and refuses to travel to the Boneyard"
As she sees the party leans to try the dungeon path, she nods in agreement "Good. Prepare yourselves and gather here in an hour. I will lead you to the Palace dungeon"
Rūha writes a quick message, which is taken in an attempt to contact the Mockery during the night.
Feel free to tell me what you write them!
As the Kellid soldiers move to guard the corridors, your group is led to a set of ornate chambers, once occupied by Tek Makul. The beds are silken, the air still faintly humming with his smell. Outside, distant flashes in the night sky mark scattered skirmishes across the city.
You rest amid the tension of victory, the calm before the storm, knowing the dawn will bring the moment of truth for Starfall, and the fate of Numeria itself may hinge on what comes next.
---
The night passes tense but mercifully quiet. At dawn, Kul-Inkit gathers you in one of the side rooms of the throne hall. Sunlight filters weakly through the stained glass, catching the smoke curling above the city "After the night we have kept our foot and Kevoth Kul himself is fighting to keep control of part of the inner city" she begins, her tone grim but steady "His men have fortified the gates, and the Palace remains under our banner. But the League will not wait long. Their compound lights burn through the night. If we do nothing, they'll strike at any moment"
She unrolls a fresh map of Starfall, tapping the area that marks the Technic League Compound "The front gates are suicide. The skies are worse, they've got shooting turrets, sensors, and enough robots to fill the streets. But there's another way"
Her finger slides beneath the map, tracing toward the Palace "Attack from below. The palace dungeon. As I told you, there is an ancient tunnel, built in the First Sovereign's time. It links this palace to the League's foundations. It has not seen use in years, but I know where the entrance lies"
Her gaze hardens "Two problems. The spirit of the First Sovereign haunts those halls, that is the main reason the tunnel has not been used in recent times and remains secret to most people. And the Black Seers, the old custodians of the Palace, have retreated there. They have refused to serve the League or Kevoth Kul alike. They are wounded, few... but dangerous. Still..." she looks at everyone of you, though her gaze is softer and longer on Yambul "...it's our best chance to take the League by surprise before they crush us all"
She folds her arms "What say you, heroes? Do you care waking up a few ghosts to end the tyrants' grasp? Or would you try your luck with the main doors?"
Khalia finishes rigging the door with efficient precision, sealing Garthone's chamber. Outside, Yambul's booming command rallies the giants. They bellow war cries that echo through the palace corridors.
The group bursts into the grand atrium where the battle rages, sparks from shattered gearsmen flash against the obsidian walls, and Tek Makul's loyalists fight in desperate ranks against Kul-Inkit's soldiers. The tide begins to turn the moment Yambul and his companions appear.
Rūha darts ahead, her limbs a blur as she dismantles a gearsman with a flurry of ki strikes. Khalia's arrows take down a retreating League enforcer. Zzvkgrogk's lasers cut through smoke and confusion while his burst drop two robots in a shower of molten iron, while Rhor's power rod keep the luck of their opponents low.
Meanwhile, the giants roar smashing through the Technic League's last lines. The League's men falter, the gleam of their courage extinguished as word spreads: Tek Makul has fallen, and Garthone lies dead. What was once resistance becomes a rout.
Kul-Inkit's voice rises above the chaos, her soldiers pressing forward with renewed fierce. The clash turns into a storm of victory shouts and the hiss of dying machines. When the last gearsman collapses in a heap of twisted steel, the Palace of Fallen Stars stands, battered, burning, but free.
And at its heart, Yambul's presence inspires the masses "The slayer of Garthone, the breaker of the League's hold!" Kul-Inkit proclaims, as cheers swell through the marble halls of the new dawn.
"We have secured the Palace" she explains once you gather with her to plan ahead "Now it is time for us to rest while my men make strong our position here. We will soon need to take things to the next phase. Seize control of the city. But to achieve that, we will need to get rid first of the League command before they organize to strike back"
Therace voice booms out of the canister "That a$$!~~~ was paid for my delivery. Garthone made a lot of questions about the Dominion ships and Casandalee's whereabouts"
Rūha sees the Tehcnic League Compound through the window. It is mere minutes away from the Palace, and it is the only other constructed area inside the walls of the inner city.
When Yambul gets out into the corridor, he finds the giants are already poking around, checking the gearsmen and inside Garthone's office, noting the destruction around. They do very attentively listen him and nod "Yes, new master pays well" "We do what master says" "We guard door."
Walking through the secret room, back into the history hall, you notice the Palace is in a fight, the Technic League guards and robots are fighting against Kul-Inkit's loyals.
The man is well stocked in material, including two implants, one you understand makes his body harder, and one very scary, someone has implanted a bomb on his head!
Loot:
wand of irradiate (12 charges)
wand of lightning bolt (20 charges)
wand of technomancy (24 charges)
concussion grenade
cureall
fragmentation grenade
grade V hemochem (2)
hype (4)
sonic grenade
zero grenade
zortaphen (2)
dagger
timeworn grenade launcher
ring of protection +1
blue access card
cranial bomb Requires a Heal DC 25 check to remove from his head without detonating
mark II dermal plating
It is also remarkable, the blue access card he has, which should have privileges in the Technic League compound.
Scattered around the lab there are alchemical and magical materials that account for around 10000 golds.
There are three other objects of interest, his alchemist formulae book, his wizard spell book, and one last exceptional item you recognize because it has been before in your hands: Therace Holiyard brain canister.
Will DC 23:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Garthone falters against the powerful forces of Rhoreen's skymetal.
1d3 ⇒ 1 1d3 ⇒ 3
Zzvkgrogk's shots find one image and the real Garthone!
"I don't know who is paying you, but I can pay you more!" he shouts back in response, stepping back while activating his launcher to drop two grenades among you!
Attack rolls vs DC 5:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24Jinx:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20 Attack rolls vs DC 5:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14Jinx:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11 Zero grenade: cold damage Ref DC 15 for half:5d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 4, 5, 1) = 13 Fragmentation grenade: slashing damage Ref DC 15 for half:5d6 ⇒ (5, 6, 1, 6, 3) = 21
Everyone but Yambul is hit by the expansion burst!
With a swift movement, Yambul reaches Garthone in time to see Khalia's initial arrows to strike on the real guy, while her last shot bounces against his leathers.
1d4 ⇒ 1 1d4 ⇒ 2 1d3 ⇒ 1
The reinforced door slides open releasing an acrid cloud of alchemical fumes. Inside lies Ghartone's private laboratory and quarters, a chaotic blend of science and sorcery: racks of volatile chemicals, shelves crammed with scrolls and glowing vials, and half-assembled devices blinking faintly with blue Numerian light. The air hums with the smell of ozone and burnt metal.
At the far end of the chamber, Ghartone stands ready behind a steel workbench now turned into a barricade. His pale face gleams with sweat under the shifting lights of the lab, one hand gripping a grenade launcher, the other dropping a recently consumed extract vial.
1d4 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Three images of himself hide with him behind the table.
His eyes burn with determination "Ah... my uninvited guests. You've made it farther than most of my test subjects. Who sends you, Zernebeth or perhaps Ozmyn himself? Ah, it does not matter. Let's see how long you last before the screaming starts"
The party ducks below the rocket burst, avoiding the worst of the harm!
Then Zzvkgrogk shots and Khalia's arrows get rid of the robot which is punched badly by Rūha. The sudden fall makes Yambul's swing to go too up, into the air!
Red Ref DC 21:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 Blue Ref DC 21:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23 Green Ref DC 21:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Rūha's sudden arch destroys the gearsman just in front of her and dangerously shocks the other two.
With that harm, Yambul has an easy time butchering the green robot before he cracks the other one with a massive hit. It is so hard that it destroys this robot two, leaving the way to Garthone's room open!
The single survivor steps back to the corner and shots its launcher. A massive rocket flies through and burst at the middle of the room!
Bludgeoning and fire damage:10d6 + 7 ⇒ (2, 6, 5, 3, 3, 6, 5, 6, 5, 5) + 7 = 53 Ref DC 15 for half. Rhoreen has +2 for partial cover
The giants look confused as words about the Black Sovereign are said. Their attention though is quickly caught by the gold. They seem to react friendly to Yambul's speech translated by Khalia and remain counting the purse and not pay you much more attention.
Giant:
"Ok, if you say"
"Coin looks real"
You push through the next door, where you find what seems a wait room, with a table and a few chairs, guarded by three gearsmen battleguards.
K. engineering DC 20*:
These are typical gearsman guards. That means hardness 10 and typical construct immunities.
They look tough, with their stun batons and rocket launchers.
"**beep** ...Garthone does not expect guests at this time of the day... **beep**"
The secret door slides open into a set of stairs that descend into a lounge more cozy than the throne hall. The smell of ale and smoke lingers in the air. No trace of guards. Only a few startled servants remain, whispering nervously about what might be happening above. One looks up just as Yambul's shadow crosses the doorway, but the rest see nothing as the group slips quietly through the room.
Moving swiftly, you pass the southeastern doors and enter the Hall of History C28. You get to glimpse how six guards vanish through the southern doors, weapons drawn, clearly a commotion brews deeper within the palace. Several statues of previous Black Sovereigns decorate this hall. Many of them have been damaged by time or purposefully defaced. You do not lose time and start searching, quickly spotting the secret door Kevoth Kul told about, just behind a defaced statue at the eastern wall.
The secret door opens into some messy quarters. The air is heavy with sweat, fur, and stale ale. Six hulking hill giants occupy the space, bickering in their guttural tongue, their heavy clubs resting nearby.
Giant:
"...Maybe we should check the noise, eh?"
"Bah, orders were to stay! Let the others get crushed if they're stupid enough!"
"But what if the ones that pay are dead? Then what, fool?"
"Thanks ratman. Don't know what you put on this, but head is being clearer than ever" Kevoth Kul says accepting Zzvkgrogk's brew "Yeah, go get that damned Garthone out of business. I see clearly now what he has been doing to me!"
Kul Inkit signals the stairs to the south "There is a corridor that follows the eastern wall that shall lead you to Garthone rooms. Just rush before they gather the Palace gearsmen and League followers"
"Aye, there is a better way" Kevoth Kul points to the north-west room in the throne hall "There, bellow the table, there is a trapdoor. It leads to a small room with a cache. You can make use of the resources, and you will find a couple secret doors there to the east that will lead you directly to Garthone. Strike him from where he does not expect"
"Once that is done, we will have some hours rest to plan the next steps and how to attack the compound" Baron Kronsieg Drund explains with a wide smile.
"Indeed, come back and I will point you to the secret tunnels I told you before" completes Kul Inkit.
Healed and with some additional information, you find the trap door exactly where Kevoth Kul told you, and descend into a dark small room.
In a shelf to the north, you find the cache you where told, three potions of cure serious wounds, a full container of restorative ointment and six EMP grenades.
Perception DC 20:
Just to the east wall, you find a secret passage leading into the public area of the second floor.
Fort DC 24:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26
This time Rhoreen's magic does not provide the desired result, as the guard endures the hexing forces of her rod.
The guard in red shouts back to Yambul "Never! We are Starfall guards! We fight to death!"
The other two, immediately drop their weapons and show their empty hands.
With a single guard fighting to death, and Yambul healed, enough to survive a bit more, the party can quickly take down the last menace.
Combat is over!
With Tek Makul neutralized, the hall slowly comes down back to piece, with the the group around Kul-Inkit and you comes up as the victorious faction.
The consort comes closer to you and puts her hand on Yambul's shoulder "You have done it. It is time to seize control of the Palace of Fallen Stars, son"
You can take the weapons and armor of the different guards, but probably the most interesting items are those from Tek Makul.
Loot:
2x potions of barkskin (+4)
+2 chainmail
+2 shock greataxe
amulet of natural armor +1
belt of incredible dexterity +2
ring of protection 1
gravity clip*
Rūha strikes hard on Tek Makul's back, leaving him without breath for a second.
Ref DC :1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Tek Makul falls prone to the ground when Zzvkgrogk's special burst him on his legs! Then the ratfolk burns twice another guard.
Khalia takes down the liuetenant by her with a barrage of arrows, and even has three more sticks to pincushion the guard next to her!
With Tek Makul prone on the ground, Yambul quickly ends his menace with two heavy swings on his skull, then turns and kills the grey guard. Everyone around looks terrified at this display from the wounded warrior!
Fort DC 24:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
The guard next to Yambul just chills from Rhoreens hexing, but otherwise survives from the magic attack.
The black guard, the closest one to the exit, has had enough, he flees, trying to get his back covered from Khalia's arrows by jumping down the stairs.
Spade-demoralized vs Rūha:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 10 - 2 = 191d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 2 = 9 Spade-demoralized vs Rūha:1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (16) + 5 - 2 = 191d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 2 = 12 Spade-demoralized vs Rūha:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (7) + 10 - 2 = 151d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 = 10
One attack hits Yambul on the head, but he manages to, very wounded, hold on place.
The last guard, a bit farther away, does something different, he presses a button on his spade, and a beam of plasma crackles through the air over Yambul!
Spade plasma beam-demoralized (touch):1d20 + 11 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 11 - 2 = 22 Plasma damage:4d6 ⇒ (4, 2, 6, 5) = 17
The beam takes him by surprise, burning and shocking him, but he still resists on foot!
Yambul quickly chops down the pink guard leaving it on the ground plain dead and intimidating all the other guards around!
Rūha strikes three times, but she finds these Kellid guards are somewhat resistant and barely damages his opponent.
Spade vs Rhoreen:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 251d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14 Brown Fort DC 24:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Rhoreen takes flight to the ceiling, which calls the attention of the guard who hits her on the way up, but then falls encased on her ice for good!
Tek Fort DC 19:1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31 Yellow Fort DC 19:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20
Zzvkgrogk special shot bursts on Tek Makul's body, burning the man badly, but he manages to maintain his vision. The nearby guard also closes her eyes on time.
Khalia keeps her fight up with the two guards on her.
One of the guards on Kul Inkit, join the fight with Yambul.
Spade-demoralized vs Yambul:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 10 - 2 = 101d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 2 = 9 Spade-demoralized vs Yambul:1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 5 - 2 = 61d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14 Spade-demoralized vs Yambul:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 10 - 2 = 191d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14
Spade-demoralized vs Yambul:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (16) + 10 - 2 = 241d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 2 = 11 Spade-demoralized vs Yambul:1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 5 - 2 = 181d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 = 10 Spade-demoralized vs Yambul:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 10 - 2 = 191d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 2 = 14
But he dodges and knocks away their spade once and again, defending himself from the pressing attacks.
Spade-demoralized vs Kul Inkit:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 10 - 2 = 281d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 = 10 Spade-demoralized vs Kul Inkit:1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 5 - 2 = 131d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 2 = 13 Spade-demoralized vs Kul Inkit:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 10 - 2 = 111d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 + 2 = 9 Crit?:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 10 - 2 = 91d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 2 = 12
One of them hits Kul Inkit who otherwise blocks the attacks with her shield.
Spade-demoralized vs Rūha:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 10 - 2 = 251d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 = 10 Spade-demoralized vs Rūha:1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (16) + 5 - 2 = 191d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 6 + 2 = 12 Spade-demoralized vs Rūha:1d20 + 10 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 10 - 2 = 201d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 2 = 13
The two guards around Rūha fail to deal with her, as their many attacks are all blocked by her expert fighting style.
Finally free, Tek Makul, though entangled by the glue, makes it to Yambul, axe at hand "Things were very much under control until you came here!"
Vital strike Shock greataxe+flank-entangled vs Yambul:1d20 + 18 - 4 + 2 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 18 - 4 + 2 + 2 - 2 = 192d12 + 12 + 12 + 1d6 ⇒ (6, 8) + 12 + 12 + (6) = 44
He arrives out of balance and Yambul easily parries the lethal, electricity crackling, axe with his own falchion.
Kul Inkit battleaxe+PA vs white:1d20 + 24 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 24 - 4 = 401d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 9 + 8 = 18 Kul Inkit battleaxe+PA:1d20 + 19 - 4 ⇒ (7) + 19 - 4 = 221d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 8 = 23 Kul Inkit battleaxe+PA:1d20 + 14 - 4 ⇒ (11) + 14 - 4 = 211d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 9 + 8 = 21 Crit?:1d20 + 24 - 4 ⇒ (18) + 24 - 4 = 381d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 9 + 8 = 24
Kul Inkit cuts the man by the neck and steps forward to help Yambul, striking twice with his axe on the guard on his rear!
Party buffs: advise (+3), haste
Pink guard: 115 damage, dead
Green liuetenant: 11 damage, ice encased, paralyzed, unconscious
Brown guard: 11 damage, ice encased, paralyzed, unconscious
White guard: 117 damage, dead
Red guard: 12 damage, slightly wounded
Grey guard: 40 damage, considerably wounded
Tek Makul: 60 damage, entangled r5
Kevoth Kul: 240 damage
Kul Inkit: 23 damage
Yambul: 96 damage
Khalia: 15 damage
Rhoreen: 65 damage
Zzvkgrogk: 9 damage
Rūha: 9 damage
Round 3: Khalia (x2), Rhoreen, Yambul Round 4: Rūha, Zzvkgrogk, Guards, Tek Makul
The two looking to reach Yambul, are interrupted by Kul-Inkit who fights them over.
Spade vs Kul Inkit:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 221d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 6 + 2 = 11 Spade vs Kul Inkit:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 301d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 2 = 10 Crit?:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 111d6 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 2 = 13
One of them makes a long cut through her arm, but she keeps fighting.
Strength DC 17:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Tek Makul tries to break free of the glue, but he is stuck and cannot reach Yambul for his intended rogue strike!
Kul Inkit fights back with her axe in a wide arch.
Kul Inkit battleaxe+PA vs white:1d20 + 24 - 4 ⇒ (3) + 24 - 4 = 231d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 9 + 8 = 20 Kul Inkit battleaxe+PA:1d20 + 19 - 4 ⇒ (2) + 19 - 4 = 171d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 9 + 8 = 25 Kul Inkit battleaxe+PA:1d20 + 14 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 14 - 4 = 271d8 + 9 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 9 + 8 = 22
She catches one of the guards a couple times.
There are shouts, some of the guests hide bellow tables and chairs, others take weapons and start to fight against Tek Makul's men and the few gearsmen in the hall!
The hall quakes with noise after Yambul's thunderous words, his cry for freedom echoing off the steel and stone. His words have struck like a hammer against the chains, and more than a few already look ready to follow him into fire. Against this storm, Tek Makul's booming voice tries to change the wave "The Sovereign is poisoned!" he roars, pointing a finger at Zzvkgrogk "The rat's wine clouded his mind, and this bastard son takes advantage of it!"
Intimidate:1d20 + 21 ⇒ (5) + 21 = 26
But the crowd only growls back. Too many had seen the Sovereign’s mind falter under Tek's guidance, too many had already whispered of the fluids and the decay they brought. Suspicion sharpens into accusation when Zzvkgrogk states what few cared to think before, and then, only a hardened core of Makul's closest followers raise steel in answer. Barely a sixth of the hall steps toward him, blades bared, the rest holding ground or rallying behind Yambul's cry.
Kevoth Kul, bloodied and broken, shouts over the noise reacting to the truth being told "Those League bastards clouded my mind all these years! Slay them all I say! Better to die trying to burn the League out of Starfall than rot in their chains!"
Seeing the people slip through his grasp, Tek Makul bares his teeth in desperation. He lunges forward in between men, trying to reach Yambul in an attempt to take him down in his wounded state.
This is a massive combat situation where the whole Palace breaks into fight. The winner of the opposed Intimidate check was supposed to win 2/3 of the support, but the difference was so large, I will say, Tek Makul only gets 1/6, mainly the guards, as he is their leader.
We will care only about the few I put around you in the map, but all the hall is fighting.
The crowd goes nearly silent when Yambul staggers upright, his bloodied form towering over the fallen Sovereign. The gasp spreads through the court like fire through dry grass, disbelief, awe, and fear blending in equal measure.
The Sovereign swallows the wine as Zzvkgorgk, discreetly gives him in the middle of the crowd. Kevoth Kul's eyes snap open, bloodshot and wild, as the wine and healing force him back to consciousness.
For a heartbeat, it seems he might surge up with blade in hand again, but instead he exhales a ragged, guttural laugh that rattles his chest "Ha... hahahaha! By Gorum's teeth... you almost sent me to the Abyss, boy!"
He spits blood to the side "Not almost. You did best me. Hells, you might have killed me..."
He lifts a trembling, scarred hand, not for his sword, but toward Yambul, as if in acknowledgment "Worthy of my blood. Worthy of the crown, should he have the guts to seize it" he coughs, crimson flecking his lips, then snarls with something between joy and agony "It is strange, that despite the beating, I feel my mind more clear than in years..."
He collapses back against the stone, chest still heaving, clearly too weak to rise again, but his smile does not fade.
Tek Makul eyes remain cold and unflinching, weighing Yambul with the same intensity as a wolf measuring prey until he steps forward "A duel proves a warrior's mettle, aye, but not a ruler's right. We cannot throw away the crown of Numeria to a band of... mercenaries who drift in from nowhere. Kevoth-Kul has not yielded the throne and our land is not a prize to be snatched by outsiders"
The murmurs of the crowd ripple louder, Kellid warriors clashing opinions in low growls. It is at this moment that a new voice cuts clear through the din.
Kul Inkit rises from her place "You are wrong, Tek Makul" she turns so all may see her profile, chin lifted "That young man is no mercenary. He is my son" the hall gasps, half in disbelief, half in dawning recognition as she steps closer to Yambul "By blood, he has the right to stand in this hall, and by steel, he has proven his strength. What remains is his charge: to prove that he can rule better than what we have endured"
A heavy silence follows, broken only by the groans of the wounded and the Sovereign's weak, ragged laughter.
Tek Makul snarls, his face twisting as he throws a hand wide "The boy's blood means nothing to the Technic League. They will not suffer this disruption. They will not bend to a bastard's claim. And when they come, they will come with fire and chains for us all. Is this the doom you would welcome, Inkit?"
The chamber hangs tense, the crowd caught between awe at Yambul's triumph and fear of Tek Makul's words.
Yambul's falchion blurs in a storm of steel, the Black Sovereign stumbles as the strikes get deep on his flesh. Blood streams from a dozen wounds. The crowd gasps, some in awe, some in horror, as their ruler staggers back, chest heaving.
Left exactly at 0 hp!
Kevoth-Kul refuses to fall. His bloodshot eyes blaze with wild joy, his laugh filling the chamber "YES! Worthy indeed... but I will not fall alone!"
With the last of his strength, he hurls himself forward, raising the adamantine greatsword high. His rage drives one final, perfect swing.
Furious Greatsword+rage:1d20 + 24 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 24 + 5 = 49 Slashing/Adamantine damage+rage:2d6 + 12 ⇒ (3, 6) + 12 = 21
Furious Greatsword-PA+rage:1d20 + 24 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 24 + 5 = 45 Slashing/Adamantine damage+rage:2d6 + 12 ⇒ (2, 1) + 12 = 15
The blade cleaves across Yambul's right leg in a gruesome arc. Bone snaps, blood sprays, and both Kellids crash to the stone floor in a heap of steel and crimson.
Kevoth-Kul lands on his knees, chest pumping once, twice... before he collapses with a smile still carved on his face "Yeah... a son..."
The court erupts. Half the crowd screams in wild approval, chanting both names, while others rush forward to help the fallen sovereign. A few brave hands hurry to Yambul's side.
On the side, Tek Makul does not move to join them. He stands stiff, scanning the chamber with a hard, assessing stare, his jaw tight. His gaze lingers on each of you, the interlopers who have just changed the course of things.
Kevoth-Kul reels as Yambul's blade carves into him again and again, three of the attacks being a hit. The last blow crunches into bone with brutal force, and for a heartbeat it looks as if the Black Sovereign might falter, only for him to throw back his head and laugh thunderously "YES! That's it! Make me bleed! Show me a warrior's heart!"
Spittle and blood surges as the Sovereign's eyes blaze, his body trembling. Rage overtakes him. Muscles already swollen from Numerian fluids bulge further, veins standing out like cords as he throws himself wholly into the fight.
The adamantine greatsword whistles through the air in a storm of steel.
Furious Greatsword-PA+rage:1d20 + 24 + 5 - 4 ⇒ (18) + 24 + 5 - 4 = 43 Slashing/Adamantine damage+PA+rage:2d6 + 12 + 12 + 6 ⇒ (6, 1) + 12 + 12 + 6 = 37
Two strikes land true, the impact booming through Yambul's frame like a battering ram. The third skims past, barely.
Sense Motive:1d20 + 14 ⇒ (1) + 14 = 15
None seems to notice that the miss comes thanks to a strange cadence of words, Rūha's voice, carrying her advice through the battle.
Kevoth-Kul grins through blood and madness, his laughter ringing out once more "At last! Someone WORTHY!"
Yambul's blade bites deep, the falchion carving through hardened flesh with a spray of blood. The crowd erupts at the sight, half-shocked, half-thrilled that anyone would dare draw first blood from the Black Sovereign.
Kevoth-Kul staggers a half step, then throws back his head and howls with laughter, a sound equal parts madness and pain. He spits a gob of red on the stones at Yambul's feet "Not bad... for an initiate! But let's see how you dance against a real blade!"
With a drunken lurch that turns into terrifying speed, the Sovereign swings his adamantine greatsword in a powerful blow.
Furious Greatsword-PA:1d20 + 24 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 24 - 4 = 33 Slashing/Adamantine damage+PA+powerful blow:2d6 + 12 + 12 + 4 ⇒ (1, 2) + 12 + 12 + 4 = 31
The first blow slams into Yambul with the weight of a thunderclap, shaking the very floor beneath them. The court roars approval, some stomping in rhythm with the Sovereign's laughter, others crying out Yambul's name to see if he can endure.
Not many people though notices how the would be heir dodges the next incoming attacks. Kevoth-Kul growls not liking it.
As the Sovereign jumps in, no one seems to join him. His hounds though are not far away, though they are still entertained playing with Yambul's crafted toy.
You do not see any aura of an ongoing spell on the Sovereign himself.
Your medical eye though notices the skin of the Sovereign has been thicken by the Numerian Fluids and is tougher than normal. Also, you notice he looks younger for his age. It seems a side effect of consuming the fluids for so long has granted him immortality.
To fully heal him, you will need to use some type of remove disease effect, though the DC was very high, your actions with the drug dealing lowered it. A heal (as the spell) effect, cures him fully of the addiction immediately, without checks, though you see it will take either force or cunning to approach him with such a thing.
Rhoreen:
Your magically deep eyes get attentive to every detail, though nothing new strikes to your new enhanced sight.
The clash of steel and the wet thud of Yambul's blade silences the hall for a heartbeat as he takes the head of the first man, then cuts half the second one. As the two kellids collapse under the sheer ferocity, the roar of the crowd redoubles.
Everyone around seems intimidated and the two other men freeze, suddenly far less eager for the Sovereign's purse.
The public eats it up, cheering, stomping, and slamming mugs on tables. A few cry Yambul's name, others mock him as 'sonny-boy', but all are entertained.
Kevoth-Kul leans forward, gripping the edge of his throne, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and exhilaration. His laughter crashes through the hall, ragged and loud "Ha! He fights like a true Kellid! You hear this, Numeria? You hear this? The 'sonny-boy' thinks he can teach me leadership with a blade!"
He waves a drunken hand dismissively at the wounded Kellids "Bah! Stand or crawl, I care not. You have had your chance at coin"
His gaze fixes hard on Yambul, his grin turning sharp and dangerous "You speak of stopping bloodshed, boy? Then prove it on me. Enough toys. Enough lackeys. If you want the throne, if you want to name yourself my blood, you will face the Black Sovereign himself!"
The hall explodes with savage excitement, some pounding tables for blood, others shouting for the duel. Tek Makul's jaw is set tight, his knuckles white on the hilt of his blade, but he still holds, waiting "This madness is unnecessary, relent back boy, it was fun, it is time to call it over"
The Sovereign throws his head back, draining a fresh goblet of wine in one swig, red spilling down his chest. Then he slams the empty cup against his throne, denting the metal "Come then, sonny-boy. Show me if you're worthy of the crown, or worthy of the grave!"
The Sovereign joins the fight:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Kevoth-Kul surges from his throne with surprising speed, seizing a massive adamantine greatsword that hums with killing weight; his thick, corded muscles bulge unnaturally, warped by years of vile Numerian fluids, as he crashes down from the dais to meet the fight head-on.
Kevoth-Kul cheers high when Yambul slashes through the first man causing a large wound "Guess what, the sonny-boy knows how to swing a blade! Let's if he also knows how to put a fight"
With reckless abandon the man responds entering into a furious rage and trying to smack his spear on Yambul.
Shortspear:1d20 + 14 - 3 ⇒ (6) + 14 - 3 = 171d6 + 6 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 + 6 = 18 Shortspear:1d20 + 9 - 3 ⇒ (8) + 9 - 3 = 141d6 + 6 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 6 = 14
But he easily parries and dodges the attack.
The other three men come and pile on him.
Shortspear vital strike:1d20 + 14 - 3 ⇒ (11) + 14 - 3 = 222d6 + 6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 + 6 = 16 Shortspear vital strike:1d20 + 14 - 3 ⇒ (6) + 14 - 3 = 172d6 + 6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 + 6 = 14 Shortspear vital strike+flank:1d20 + 14 - 3 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 14 - 3 + 2 = 312d6 + 6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 1) + 6 + 6 = 15
With unnatural speed and mystic energy, all the attacks are well deflected by him.
The public roars as they see blood, clearly entertained by the show the Black Sovereign is providing them.
Zzvkgrogk eyes start to shine blue.
Zzvkgrogk:
Many people wears magic items.
In particular, you note the Black Sovereigns adamintine greatsword, his belt, cloak, and one of his rings are magical.
Tek Makul's chainmail, greataxe, amulet, belt and one of his rings are also magical.
You can provide K. arcana to try know the school of magic of each aura if you wish so. Though there is little to gain from that information I guess.
Rūha scans the chamber, and the tension is palpable. Dozens of Kellids sit frozen in their seats, mugs clutched half-way to their lips. More telling are the guards, spears angled, boots braced, eyes darting between the Black Sovereign and Tek Makul. One word, one gesture, and they'll surge forward. Tek Makul himself is nearly quivering with rage.
Kevoth-Kul sways, then steadies, his glare fixed on Yambul. He spits a wine-stained laugh "Poison? Ha! It is I who demand those fluids, boy. Do you think ruling Numeria is done with clear eyes and clean veins? These lands grind even the strong to dust. My people suffer because they have always suffered, Kellids are born to the lash of wind and the bite of hunger, no matter who wears the crown!"
Sense Motive DC 20:
You sense the words ringed on him, but he just does not want to belief them. If you plan to make him take any medicine, seems you will have to force him, or trick him to do it unaware.
---
He throws out his arms, swaying before the hall "And I do not owe explanations to the first lunatic who blunders into my hall, babbling about fathers and sons!"
The Black Sovereign slams a meaty fist against his throne, grinning a jagged grin "Conversation bores me! Let us have sport instead. A hundred gold coins..." he shakes a heavy purse, the jingle carrying across the hall, "...to whomever puts my 'sonny-boy' flat on his arse!"
The hall erupts in a roar of laughter, jeers, and the scraping of benches as four different men rise, eager for coin and spectacle.
New throne map is now available!
Note, I have only put some of the relevant tokens, there is many more people enjoying the entertaining lunch with the sovereign.
The four tokens with colored border are the four Kellid that stood up.
Ruha's sharp eyes catch the Baron seated at a shadowed table, watching the exchange with quiet interest.
Kevoth-Kul's grin falters as Yambul's words echo through the hall. For the first time in years, someone has dared to call him drunkard and unfit to his face before the Black Sovereign's own court. The crowd gasps, some stifling laughter, others clutching weapons as though bracing for a slaughter.
The Sovereign grips his wine-cup so tightly that the metal bends in his fist. Red wine spills down his arm, dripping onto the steps of the dais like blood. For a heartbeat, his eyes blaze with anger, the kind that is used to end men's lives in an instant.
But then... he laughs again. Not the booming, boastful sound from before, but a hoarse, broken cackle that makes the hairs rise on the back of the neck. He gulps the last of the wine, then hurls the twisted cup aside with a clang.
"Better? Better? You think me weak, boy?" his voice cracks with fury, yet there is no denial "You come before me, before my people, and call me unfit? Bold words from a bastard with no throne to sit on"
He pushes himself up from the iron seat, weaving slightly, his sweat-slick chest heaving. You feel that now that the drugs have not poisoned him for days, the alcohol burns hotter in his blood. The crowd stirs uneasily, sensing the Sovereign's mood wavering between rage and grim amusement.
"Fine!" Kevoth-Kul bellows, pointing an accusatory finger at Yambul "If you would make yourself known as my son, then prove you are not all bark and no steel. Speak then, or challenge me before all of Numeria! Entertain me, and perhaps... perhaps you live long enough to see me sober"
The chamber explodes with wild jeers and cheers. Some roar for blood, others clap for spectacle, and more than a few lean forward with hungry eyes, eager to see what the would-be "son of the Sovereign" dares next. Tek Makul's jaw tightens, muttering under his breath, but he does not intervene, yet.
A hush sweeps the hall at Yambul's words, heavy enough that even the torches seem to sputter quieter. Dozens of gazes turn from goblets and dice to the man standing at the doors. You can read the disbelief and confusion rippling through the crowd.
Whispers stir "Yamkul?" "Did he say... son?" there are different tones, skeptical, curious, mocking, hopeful.
The three aurumvoraxes, however, prove far less reserved. The golden beasts stalk forward with eager interest as Yambul raises the glittering chew-toys. One growls low and possessive, another butts against its flank, and soon the trio are snarling at each other over the gleam of copper and gold.
On the dais, Kevoth-Kul stiffens. His wine sloshes again, dripping red down his arm, but this time he does not drink. His bleary eyes narrow, fixing on Yambul. For a heartbeat, the drunken fog seems to lift, recognition struggling against disbelief.
"...Yamkul?" his voice cracks into a laugh "What nonsense have they put in your head, boy?" he gives a quick gaze to Kul-Inkit who does not budge "No. No, that boy was buried in the dust years ago. Some bold fool dares to wear his name? Thinks he can sway me with baubles and pretty words?"
He leans forward on the arms of his iron throne, and the hall quivers with tension as everyone waits to see the Black Sovereign burst into rage.
But instead, Kevoth-Kul throws back his head and laughs, a booming, broken sound "Fine then! If you are my son, show me! Step forth, speak your piece, entertain me!" he makes a sign for the group next to the throne to stand up so your party can come and take the place by him.
The crowd erupts in jeers, cheers, and roars, hungry for spectacle. Tek Makul's jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing on Yambul like a hawk watching a hare. He quickly approaches and takes the cook by the arm "I remember you. What are you trying to achieve here? You do not know what you are playing at. Once he is entertained by your nonsense, he will entertain himself butchering you. I recommend you to convince him, it was all a bad joke"
Sense Motive DC 30:
1d20 + 21 ⇒ (9) + 21 = 30
You feel the words are trying to intimidate you more than help you. And with this realization, you understand Tek Makul is completely scared of Yambul getting closer to the Black Sovereign, and desperately trying to keep him away.
The guards shift uncertainly, spears angled, waiting for the signal that will decide whether this bold intruder is welcomed or butchered.
The consort just nods, then you all get out of her room. Her personal bodyguards follow but they will sit and wait a bit before you reach your destination.
The march through the palace's winding corridors ends at a pair of massive bronze doors. With a push from the guards, they swing inward, revealing the cavernous expanse of the Sovereign's Throne Hall.
Sovereign's Throne Hall
This vast hall rests directly beneath the palace's central dome. Its curved walls arch upward to a height of eighty feet above the center of the chamber. Great smoking torches sputter on the walls amid hundreds of hanging skulls, furs, weapons, and other trophies harvested from humans, monsters, and robots alike. Over a dozen wooden feasting tables fill the hall. Looming above it all from an upraised stage is the Sovereign's throne—a vast chair of black-pitted metal surrounded by even more trophies and mounds of tribute.
At his feet, the aurumvorax pets prowl lazily among the scraps, while the steel silhouettes of gearsmen flank the stage, still and watching. Tek Makul is easy to spot nearby, his gaze restless, and the lieutenants of the palace guards hover close, ensuring order.
When Kul-Inkit enters, she draws more than a few startled looks. The murmurs ripple like a stone in still water, but she simply inclines her head and takes a modest seat at one of the lower tables. Whispers stir, but the attention of most quickly drifts back to drink and dice.
The rest of you are left standing at the great doors. The guards hold their spears crossed, clearly not extending the same courtesy they gave the consort.
The roar of the feast falters as eyes turn toward the newcomers. Tankards pause midair, dice lie forgotten in calloused hands, and the hall grows still, until the scrape of an aurumvorax's claws is the loudest sound.
From the throne, Kevoth-Kul lurches forward, a massive goblet sloshing red wine over his hand. His eyes are bloodshot, and though his body sways with the weight of drink, his voice booms strong, heavy with irritation and hunger for distraction "Strangers. Bold enough to intrude upon my feast. Step forward, and tell me, why do you think yourselves so important to disturb my hall?"
A few nearby sycophants titter nervously, eager to mirror his mood, while the rest of the chamber holds its breath, waiting to see what amusement or violence will follow.
Please include Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate and similar checks if you attempt to give an answer
Kul-Inkit inclines her head slightly, considering Khalia's words "Tradition demands the defeated yield. In the old ways, that meant exile, submission, or death by their own hand. Some sovereigns accepted chains of service, others vanished into the wilds. Pride often decides which path is taken" her gaze flicks towards Yambul "If you name exile, and he accepts, then so it will be. But if he refuses? Then only steel will settle it"
She lets the axe rest against her shoulder, voice hardening "The League will not sit idle once they notice something is going on. Garthone will try to slink away the moment the balance tips. Strike him down quickly, and his gearsmen with him, or they will regroup. Once the Palace is ours, I will take you through the hidden way into the League's compound"
Her eyes linger on each of you, then back to Yambul "Decide how you and your friends wish to resolve this, but be fast, the League has probably already noted a well armed group has been invited to my private quarters"
"How you issue the challenge, and in what terms, it is up to you. If not singular combat, he will get some of his closest allies with him, sure. And about that... well, not all Kellids take technology with good eyes, though here we are used to see the Technic League use those things..." Kul-Inkit answers Khalia.
Rūha wrote:
She addresses Kul-Inkit "You mentioned Ghartone here in the Palace. Where will we find him and any directly reporting to him? And maybe more importantly, if we act against him here in the Palace, what should be expect as a response from the local guards. Are they more loyal to the League, will they look to maintain order, or are they more likely to approve?"
"Garthone chambers are in the north-eastern tower in the second floor"she answers as well "And about the guards. That is the reason you should win over the command of the guards. No reason to have a bloodshed against our own people while trying to seize control of the Palace"
To Zzvkgrogk, she just nods slightly, it is clear she does not believe the man can be healed after so much years.
