Understood you! I really hope and will wait for the resumption. To finish this module a second time in the most interesting place - in Hell - would be a wound on my heart.
I'll be here when you get back.
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Simon takes a step back, slightly shocked that such a force did not crush him for his connection with a terrible patron from Hell, but still confident that such a solid deity as Torm should respect and recognize the real aristocracy and if anyone should be given a blessing in this squad, it is to him, Simon of Eltans, the Worthy. Even the Gods dare not argue with the fact that I am the chosen one, I am the savior, I am the one who is blessed first and the one who leads. Simon exhales noisily, and then looks around at everyone from behind his upturned nose. His voice, strong and domineering, full of charisma, sounds loud and solemn. While we spend time admiring the scenes of desecration, people in this city are dying. Every minute spent without the purpose of searching for an infernal contract is not only new souls of innocents forever doomed to endless suffering, but it also carries the risk of our death, and if we die, Elturel will die. This cannot be allowed. Let's look for this damn-literally-contract. Another deep breath of a man-thinker, a man responsible for others. A man who did not want this heavy burden, but who is simply obliged to take it for the benefit of others. Reya, where could Krieg have hidden such a document? Did he have private quarters here? Let's go there immediately. He nods calmly, full of self-respect, as if agreeing with himself and as if this agreement alone was enough to accomplish great things.
Thanks! The hook is quite good, especially if it is combined with personal reasons for the characters. I thought I had missed something while I was extremely busy IRL, but everything remained in place. Then I understand what Simon will do next as a character .)
Hey, I just want to clarify because I'm a little confused. We basically went to Hell just to destroy the original contract, right? And thus, as if to reverse everything. Well, there are all sorts of personal motives for individual characters that we leave out of brackets now (for example, the fact that Simon wants to return the shield and curry favor with Bel). Just return the Elturel and find and destroy the contract for that. Yep? And here we climbed because it is assumed that it may be here. Right?
Simon looks with horror at the scenes of sacrilege and massacre. He saw a lot of things while he was or pretended to be a cultist, but what is happening now is clearly too much for the psyche of a young nobleman. And yet... Was there any sense in this ritual? Is there any way to reverse it? What really happened here?
Demons. Simon looks at the dead devils. I'm sure they're still here. And they are not as attuned to conversation as that vrock philosopher.
Tearing his gaze away from an illusionary scroll of pedigree burning in the fire (feeling his own in his pocket and exhaling contentedly), Simon moves on, trying to stay away from the walls and columns. He constantly looks up, as if expecting danger to come from above. Or fall.
Simon grimaces like he ate a lemon when he sees the statues of Zariel. Otherwise, he does not hurry forward and lets the allies go to investigate.
I'm disappointed and expected more from you, Hounds. There was so much talk about you in our salons, but... Simon doesn't finish the sentence, and a new infernal chant gathers more energy from the hellish space around to bring it down on the dogs.
What cute little dogs. Simon is extremely satisfied to be away from them, so he does not rush forward, but simply starts firing at the fiends from afar, starting with the most wounded.
Simon snorts and shakes his head, much like old people do when a teenager expresses maximalistic stupidity in their presence, but an adult knows that these thoughts will go away from a young person, just like youth itself. No need to explain, just have to wait. And of course, provided that the teenager will not torn apart by zombies, devils and other foul creatures. I choose glory, profit, my damn shield and my damn soul back. Simon doesn't say any of this out loud and just heads forward.
It seems that Simon finally realized that nothing good awaits in hell, despite the patronage of an influential person... Finally, looking around the destroyed city, he realized that he is up to his ears in the quagmire into which he himself climbed. Voluntarily. Saving yourself is always a good idea. The nobleman swallows nervously, looking at another "lightning" from the Betrayer.
Climbing up the rope after Syrina, Simon gloomily looks around the neighborhood. Remind me please, what exactly do we want to save? Ruins and a horde of zombies? I'm afraid by the time we're done, there won't be anything else left.
Bad idea. Simon looks anxiously around the street. After a little thought, Simon decides to conduct an experiment, and before anyone approaches the corpse, he creates an illusion... a child, fearfully looking around with his eyes and carefully approaching the deceased.
Simon nods. Let's not waste time, otherwise we will have guests. Forward.
The slightly hesitant aristocrat nevertheless begins his dark sorcery and two projectiles of energy rush into the devil.
Malaric smiles at Simon knowing exactly what he means. ”What do you have to offer for the boots? They were a significant cost to me and prevented me from acquiring other magic items.” I will give you an equal magical gift in the near future. The word of a nobleman. And before that, I will give you my pearl of power as if it were yours. ______
I can't disagree with my colleague. The fight looks like the most realistic prospect.
Barely dodging the demon's blood, Simon freezes with the blood draining from his face, looking at Malaric. However, he does not feel any pity for the halfling. No matter what you say, but with such improvements, I would not get to any more dinner parties at Baldur's Gate. He exhales noisily, grunts and clarifies. I envy your improvements in some ways, Malaric, but I can't have this myself due to my status. However, I would love to take advantage of your generous offer of flying shoes. It's not for me to tell you how good flying artillery is.
Thank you for an interesting conversation and your answers. I haven't enjoyed talking like this for a long time... Hmmm... Yes, the number of undead is really unexpected. Did you mention some kind of necromancer? Who is it? And where is he or she?
I would say that this is the most obvious error of thinking. The fact that something has been recording for some time that A is replaced by B and back to A does not mean at all that this will happen forever, and the next time after A it will be B again. Simon thinks for a second, then clears his throat and continues. Imagine that someone wants to sacrifice a certain cow to a powerful entity. According to the rules of the ritual, it must be a very well-fed and beautiful cow, otherwise the entity will be offended and destroy the ritualists. In order for the cow to become suitable for fat content and grooming, it will need to be fattened for 666 days. And so cow's future killer brings it food, takes care of it and treats it in the best possible way. On the 100th day, the cow concludes that this creature that feeds it is a good friend. At 300th day, cow believes that this will never stops. It has an output based on 300 iterations, which is quite a lot! On day 665, our cow is sure that it is in absolutely safe and has successfully settled into life. And then day 666 comes and this cow's world turns upside down along with all previous conclusions. Simon looks thoughtfully at the demon. This is what I mean by the inability of the mind to comprehend all cause-and-effect relationships. And no matter how hard we try to develop our brain, a huge number of them will remain beyond our perception. The conclusion is to try to transcend by bypassing reason, because the path of reason is a dead-end path in the end. Look at the people in this town. They had conclusions based on their experience, and which of them had these conclusions led to the assumption that soon they would all fall into hell? The analysis does not work. And when it works, it's more a survivor's mistake than a confirmation that the analysis can work at all. The nobleman exhales noisily. I really wish you had some wine. By the way, about this city and unsuccessful conclusions. Do you have any idea why the forces of Hell needed this at all? Villainy for the sake of villainy? Or is it a tool for some larger purpose?
I would wait a little bit for where this conversation will lead at all.
Simon touches the talisman to be able to identify this creature more accurately...
Greetings, Xanxostyx. I am Simon of the Eltans. The aristocrat makes a small bow, but just such as not to let the creature out of sight. I don't know if the mortal mind can comprehend such enlightenment... But I also understand the limitations of the mortal mind... And most of the conditionally immortal, too. We can see only the little that is not drawn by the curtains of our narrow perception. "Surprises" happen to us, although there is nothing really unexpected in the world - we are simply unable or unwilling to see all the regularity and cause-and-effect relationships. Cognition through the mind can lead to a dead end... After a shot pause, the aristocrat continues. You're not like anyone I've met before here. What happened to you, besides the fact that you're injured?
Simon touches a pearl hidden in one of the secret pockets of his luxurious doublet and utters a command word. Feeling a little more confident with the minimum amount of witchcraft available to him right now, he says, "I'll try to do something about it now"... and goes out. Perhaps life begins with sensations and leads through the comprehension of these sensations to conclusions, aspirations and goals. But what if all this is just a hoax? Perhaps our ego has been leading us the wrong way since childhood and our highest goal is to free ourselves from its shackles? What if the sensations are already biased in their essence, as they are passed through our mind, torn apart by conflicting desires, thoughts, ambitions and false attitudes? What if we have to go not through awareness with the mind, but through stopping the internal dialogue and finding harmony with the Divine? I do not mean banal Gods, most of whom were once mortals and retained the same problems of a sick ego, but the supreme Divinity, who is everything and absorbs absolutely everything? All this you are surprised to hear from the street. The nobleman communicates quite seriously with the creature on the roof, as if this is not a city full of zombies and devils, but a secular dinner party with aristocratic friends. I think I've finally found someone reasonable enough here to talk to normally. This blatant flattery would sound too direct if it weren't for Simon and his incredible charm.
Simon swoops down impressively. Not bad. Is everyone okay? He glances at Reya and smiles. How glad I am. He looks around at the others. Well, are we going to the tunnel?
Yep, I've been thinking about it a lot (how to make the combat in 5e more tactically diverse if I will GM it myself one day). The flank works reasonably in systems where movement inside the threatened zone provoking AoO (not only leaving it as in 5e). In this case, getting into the flank without AoO is in itself a mini-quest with a reward. Or great luck.)
Ladies and gentlemen! It seems to me that you need to retreat while Reya heroically sacrifices her life so that we can fulfill our mission. Reya, bravo! That's what paladins and real Hellriders do. Having finished silently applauding, aristocrat shakes his hands and kneads his fingers like a pianist before the next segment of a concert in the best music halls of the Sword Coast...
Aww. It doesn't look too promising. Noble's gestures become more active, and the infernal songs of absolute longing in the darkness of eternal damnation and suffering, which Simon sings during witchcraft, from a quiet chant become a loud requiem to Elturel itself. Every word, like a new curse on the already cursed zombie werewolf, falls like a hammer on an anvil on his head...
So far, Simone is rather amused by what is happening. However, in his position, he does not have to sweat, push, endure scratching with rotten fingers and dodge zombie bites.
Blows of mystical energy unmistakably hit zombies! Grim, hold the door! Hold the door! Hoo-doo-r! - noble supports his comrade with shouts.
GM Infinity, I'll pay attention to my post just in case, since we wrote at the same time. Well, you never know... I would not like you to wait for me when I have already done my job (probably missed the attack, lol).
The nobleman just shrugs at Syrina's words. Aristocrats don't make mistakes, aristocrats test hypotheses... Not a bad idea, Mal. Simon casts flight and ascends to the same place where the Dragonslayer has settled.
Standing on the side, with his cloak fluttering stylishly in the infernal wind, as if telling those who remained below that he would save them, Simon begins to bring down the same blasts on the advancing undead.
Disgusting. Simon examines the writhing legs of a zombies. I can't disagree with the Dragon Slayer. Tunnels seem to be an increasingly bad idea. Anyway, I'll start clearing. It's always useful to have multiple options. Simon begins to pour mystical energy over and over again into a mess of zombies.
Simon looks with a kind of greedy curiosity at the scene with a strange device and devils. Then, for a second, he looks at the pocket of his doublet where he has about the same coin, but restrains himself so as not to pat on this place. Deep thoughtfulness is still visible on his face when all the devils fly away.
I imagined Hell to be a more organized place. Apparently, the influence of the Abyss, demons and endless war on this circle has its effect. He dusts off his doublet, which has begun to get dirty despite all the efforts of the nobleman, sighs and nods to make it clear that it's time to move on.
I just came here and here's the news. Well, real life really comes first. Let everything work out in the best way. We will hope for your possible return, Donal! )
Can I just fly up and tie the rope? Simon looks at Grim with a smile.
Still, let's break through the zombies before we fall down. Simon heads for the exit, inviting the others to follow him with a wave of his hand.
[Get well soon!] - 2 So, are we preparing for battle and rushing forward?
Simon smiles at Grim as politely as possible. Perhaps because he likes his Battle Brothers. Perhaps because he had seen them turn very formidable opponents into mincemeat in seconds... I would like to explore all the magical properties of this coin. Let it stay with me for a while, if you don't mind. I promise that when we return to our world, I will give it to you in any case, if it will still be with me. He looks confident and firm, with a slight smile of a person who should be trusted.
> It must be coming from the thing's oversized purse Simon comes over and picks it up. At the same time, he releases his cloak consisting of swarm of flies. Unwrapping the purse, he nods. Yes, it seems better to move on top. I can fly if anything, but most of you can't.
I'm sorry, I understand!
Very sorry... Maybe the situation will calm down? Sometimes there are periods when all your posts are a roll of the dice when it is necessary to roll it. But sometimes there are periods when you can write a lot, it's interesting and with immersion in the role. Perhaps it's worth waiting it out without making hasty decisions? Just thinking out loud, because I usually just have everything going in such waves as I described.
Oh, I wasted effort on an idiot. It's worth remembering that I should only talk to powerful devils. Muttering this to himself... Simon suddenly gathers magical energy and unleashes it on the imp!
I recommend you choose your words, warrior. But for the first time, I forgive you. And of course I understand everything.
Oh yes, especially since I read and wrote on a short transfer in Muscat between two flights of 6+ hours ))
Excellent. How much do you know about the catacombs here? What awaits us ahead? I need a scout and a guide. Simon arrogantly turns up his nose.
I guess I got a little confused with the intelligence issues... I apologize. I just thought that if the imp is already directly showing that he noticed us, then I can make a continuation of the series about the arrogance and short-sightedness of some rich young people from noble families (oh gods, "Jeeves and Wooster"!).
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