Death or Absolution IC Thread

[Cadian 9th]

You four great adventurers stand in the King Eldane's throne room, In the capital city of Asril, Dar'Anar.

The King, lord of the human race in this land, addresses you, with charisma and authority.

"All you four stand before me, King of this land, Chosen of Fateweaver, blessed of god this land, asking for Absolution, formally and divinely. A Hobgoblin, warrior, enemy of my race, A Kobold, also an enemy of our race.
A Knight of a fallen reputation, Paladin pure; A man of the Wilds, Swift, blessed and master of the unknown. This party seeks absolution; for a range of perceived and material crimes..."

He pauses. A troubled look crosses his face.

"Truth be told in fairness and purity, We are desperate. For our wrongs the Weaver of Worlds, blessed Fateweaver, has declined to help us against the most terrible evil that grips our land. We name the sea the Sea of Frost, and the new mountains we call the Frostborns. Many shiver in this land for not the cold but one far greater and terrible: The Great Dragon, Razor, lord of ice."

A collective gasp echoed throughout the asembly. Murmurs of fear and agreement grace the parties ears.

"So, you seek absolution? So do we. The Dragons armies and creatures spread throughout this once safe kingdom, the once chaotic and unorginized beasts now attack with tactics and guidance that bodes poorly for those isolated villages we have lost already. "

The king stops, then starts again.

"I present you with this task, so that you may achieve personal absolution... You need slay the Mighty Razor, and save our kingdom from destruction and endless winter. "

"This is Madness! Death! One cannot expect these four to Achieve such a goal!" A man speaks out, the King's advisor. He, old and yet still commanding, looks the king in the eye as all turn toward him.

"So it is... So it is. Death... Death, or Absolution..."

*****

The next few hours are spent by you all at the local inn, readying to set out for tommorow's deathly journey. At this point is clear you have only one way: Death.

Though, as the night reaches its climax, the door is opened and the Advisor comes forth, clutching a pile of books and papers, without any guards.

"You all, are mad. Though, I admire this madness, and I think you are our only hope. The king has forbbiden all to help you, you are not to return until your task is complete."

He spreads a paper on the nearby table. "See, here. I have known of this for ages; Only now did I collect all of the Information I could. These blessed tomes contain the secrets of the Four Great World Gems. " He speaks the name with reverence.

Intrigued, you listen to the Advisor as he details to you what these powerful artifacts are. When all four gems are close together, used by allies, their powers activate, the powers of the original four human, elven, dwarven and Celestial races that claimed the land back from the beasts ages ago. Each gem has different powers; One, the Green one, grants Health and Vigour, Strength and Courage. The Red world gem grants A host of magical powers, that of travel between this world and the immaterial. The Blue grants quick wit and influence, charisma and wisdom, While the final, the Yellow sun gem grants mastery of knowledge, the light of the sun and blessings of the gods.

Together, All function, divided, wielded by enemies, all fail. Each of these gems lies within the most deadly or forgotten places, with my research I found the approximate locations of all four; I do not know where each Individual resides; only possible locations. One may contain all and One may contain none. Of all I pick these most important: The Vault of the Depths, Domain of the Kraken Lord Tidemaker, The Monolith of Ice, the floating monastary of the githzerai warriors, each deadly and unstoppable, swift and powerful. In the Forests of Asril, the Tomb of Heroes, resting place of all great heroes, friend or enemy, and, unfortunatley, one in the hills of the Plains of Asril.

"I give you my blessing and this guide, this map and a hope. I beg you to finish this fight, to free us all. That, or death. Goodbye..."

And so, armed with this new hope and knowledge, you set off the next morning, greeted by a crowd of well wishers despite your racial image. You travel far, and finally reach the center of the Plains of Asril, a rolling grassland of shrubs and hills. It is here you stop, rest and decide where to continue for the next day.

The Surrounding landscape is clear for a while, though you can see the Hills of the highlands some distance away and the city of Dar'anar, now far away, tiny against the edge of the Ironspur Mountains; Set against the red glow of sunset: the day changes to night, and the dark shrouds the light.

You have seen no people yet, though you find traces of travel in the grass and dirt.

Dante.

[Tyrael]

http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/4505/campfirebysianalee.jpg


As night falls and the party breaks camp, a little Kobold trudges out of the tall plains grass. Standing no more than barely 2 feet tall, he is dressed in a breastplate made of black metal and enshrouded within a long grey coat. Over his back is a simple quiver of arrows festooned with three large pockets, and next to it hangs a small circular pack that seems to be harnessed onto his back. A small, short bow is slung next to the quiver and a simple dagger is sheathed at his belt.

The little creature's reverse-jointed legs give him a strange sort of inhuman grace as he picks his way over the odd stick or log. His surprisingly large yellow eyes glint in the firelight as the shadows dance on his dull brown scales. As he approaches the fire, he slings his quiver down with a relieved sigh. His hands wander down the quiver's length and flip open one of the pockets, from which he draws out what appears to be a long piece of dried meat. Drawing his dagger boredly and sticking the meat onto the end of it, the little Kobold improvises a skewer with which he begins cooking his dinner. His head tilts to one side suddenly, and then he relaxes as a set of approaching footsteps is identified.

The footsteps draw closer to the campfire, and the little creature looks up to see...

[IonDragon]

The grass parts revealing the snuffling head of a massive grizzly bear wearing a small pink bow. Her small dull black eyes survey the fire and small creature. Finding nothing of immediate interest, she hefts her wide frame to a comfortable looking patch of grass and flops on her side.

Behind Betsy walks a tall, rail thin man in a thickly stitched woolen jerkin and breeches in dark, natural colors stained from long use. His shoulder length light brown hair is tightly bound in a pony tail with a leather thong. He carries a longbow inlaid with gilt runes.

From a small, well worn belt pouch he plucks a corner of fabric, and with a flick of his wrist a tent stands by the fire. With a nod and a grunt to the kobold, he pulls a bedroll from the tent and stares into the fire idly stroking the bear's thick coat.

[Zerkai]

While the man with the bear made a tent appear with Magic, a tall, muscular Hobgoblin was setting up his own tent. Out of his armor, we was wearing a black wool coat and pants with a heavy cloak over it, with a white Linen shirt underneath and a pair of heavy boots. He was dressed, prepared for cold weather when he heard of this Dragon Lord of ice.

He was out of his armor, but he kept his weapon trapped to his waist, a long and curved magic blade with a dark yellow handle and matching scabbard. After a few minutes of silent work he finished setting up his tent with a pleased look on his face. Nelok spared his traveling companions a glance as he rifled through his bag of holding now, clearing his throat to get their attenion

"*Ahem*...Have we decided on our first destination?" He asked

[Chaelos]

A large human man sits near the campfire, his eyes staring into the heart of the embers. Though tall and powerfully built, his face is lined with the cares of years, and his shoulders sag as if burdened with all the world's cares. He must undoubtedly have been handsome in younger days, and there remains a terrible elegance about his features--but the sadness in his eyes and the three-day beard at his jaw readily convey the impression that this man, no matter how great he might have once been, has been laid low by time and fate. To look at him is to see a great lion, once in the prime of his life, now slowly descending into twilight.

He is clad in a coarse shirt and pants woven of dark cloth, a worn leather belt with a small pouch at the hip, a pair of scarred leather boots of a military-cut, and a once-thick blue cloak now worn with time and heavy usage. He carries only a simple backpack and shield.

"We're close to the location in the Plains of Asril," Gabriel Semban growls softly, not particularly caring if the other three hear or not. "May as well start there."

[IonDragon]

Makes sense. So, we'll set off in the morning straight away then? How far is it?

[Cadian 9th]

The coolness of the night chills all; A mark of the encroaching Ice in the north. The embers of the fire illuminate the air as they drift upwards, casting an orange glow on the newly made tents.

The plains are silent for the rustle of wind swept grass. Animals have made their mark, though none have passed in the past three or four days; So far as Victor and Betsy can tell.


The Advisor says 4 days from the hills from Dar'Anar, so now you can work out it a day left. The exact distance is 14 and a half miles, approximately (:smallbiggrin:). This is accounting for Nelok's overland speed of 16 miles per day.

You all have noticed the fact the advisor could not speak of the elven tower in the hills of asril. This is an enchantment, a very old one.


Dante.

[Tyrael]

The tiny Kobold shivers slightly and moves closer to the fire. The little reptile is definitely feeling the chill of the plains as he huddles close to the flames, warming himself as best he can while cooking another piece of meat on his dagger.

After he's comfortable, Teevo looks up at the distant tower looming on the horizon. "Not far now," he observes complacently, ripping a bite of flesh from his dinner. "What do you think we'll find?" the little Kobold wonders aloud with his mouth full.

[Zerkai]

"Hopefully we'll find one of the Orbs, and just one." Since their grew closer to their destination, Nelok spent more and more time in his armor. Wearing his thick winter clothing under his plate armor, his helmet was off though as he ate some rations he had brought with him.

"If these orbs really do grant power two the ones who hold them, we should hope there's one for each holder. I'd rather not face someone who's gather up three. It'd save us some time, but it would be very dangerous." he explained as he thought about their mission, sitting down by the fire.

"Though... whoever has one might not even know what it is, or does."

[IonDragon]

Who knows? What must be done, must be done. We will get there, and when we do what we can with what we have. There is no two ways about it.

After a pause

However, a more worrisome though: If there were more than one person in the same place, each with one of the orbs would be much more difficult a challenge than one person with multiple.

[Chaelos]

"'Divided, wielded by enemies, all fail,'" Gabriel reminds his companions, his face grave. He falls back into silence as they march.

When they are a little over a mile away from the tower, Gabriel pauses and begins removing items from his backpack. At first, the items don't look particularly interesting, yet Gabriel nevertheless dons a belt and vest he removes from the pack. Then he begins to pull larger and larger items from the small bag, donning them almost as an afterthought as they march on--bright greaves and cuisses for his legs, a massive, shining cuirass, silver pauldrons, bracers and gauntlets, and a closed helmet with a horsehair crest. Finally, holding the helmet under his left arm, he retrieves a long, sheathed sword from the bag, kissed it reverently, and belts it to his hip. He slides the helmet upon his head, drapes his old blue cloak about his shoulders, and unslings his shield from his back.

As piece after piece of armor slides into place on Gabriel's body, a change seems to come over him. No longer is he the exhausted, broken man the others had seen at the campfire; he now radiates confidence, as if a long-smoldering fire has been rekindled within his chest. When he speaks, his rumbling words give confidence to those around him.

"Whatever awaits us, we will triumph--be it one foe or ten thousand." His eyes blaze from underneath his helmet, and he marches determinedly toward the tower. "Let's not keep them waiting."

[Cadian 9th]

After travelling the final mile, you four feel the wind of death upon your minds. Ahead in the hills, the tower is enfulged in smoke and You can hear the sounds of war in the distance, almost certainly coming from the tower's area.

Teevo can hear voices, and points them out to the party. Gabriel, hearing them first, identifies them with dread. The warriors of the Drow roar with battlelust; punctuated by the brays of minotaurs. The battle abates as you listen; a few Elven screams echo to be heard by all. Briefly, the sky above the tower explodes into a violent blue vortex; an eldritch storm that swirls around the spire's peak.

Victor discovers tracks of the party - they went to the tower.


I rolled listen checks for all of you guys. Victor discovered the tracks by scoring a 20! (On his survival check):smallcool:


Dante.

[Tyrael]

Teevo frowns and pulls out a small notebook, scribbling in it briefly as he writes in Draconic, "Day 8 - Found the tower at least where we hope the orb of power lies. Battle up ahead and swirling magic in the sky above us. Have a bad feeling about this."

Closing the notebook with a snap and slipping it back into his quiver, Teevo reaches behind his back and pulls out a short bow inlaid with runes. Stringing it swiftly and professionally, he quietly nocks an arrow to the string and nods to the rest of the party. "This should be interesting," he observes. "Shall we?"

[Chaelos]

Gabriel wordlessly unsheathes his sword, black as midnight, and, lofting it in a salute, kisses it reverently; in the tongue of the Celestials, he quietly asks the gods for strength. Then, in the common tongue, he roars "TO BATTLE!"

He breaks into a trot that, when he gets closer, turns into a sprint briefly before culminating in a mighty charge attack.

[IonDragon]

At a brisk walk, and then a loping jog Victor keeps stride some 30' behind.

Betsy growls loudly in protest to the unnecessary exertion, but keeps up with Victor.

"Let's do this." He states coldly.

[Zerkai]

Nelok let out a growl, drawing his magic blade from it's sheath, the enchanted steel giving off a constant yellow glow.

"These guys... are un-****ing believable." He said to no one in particular, considering letting Gabriel run off on his own, before running after them

[Cadian 9th]

You 4 encroach on the tower, passing between two hills. As you reach the tower, a dreadful sight assualts you.

Drow warriors stand in ranks 2 deep, flanking a group of official looking drow highborns. Minotaur warriors, fully armoured and clenching large longswords with the experience of veteran soldiers stand in their own troops of 4; Large Crossbows on their backs as they salute the Highborns.

Led by several Drow veteran warriors, distinguished by their equisite gear and practised precision, a proud, high walking, Elven Wizard strides. Blood leaks from the various wounds that scar her body; Her eyes still glow with magical energies. Several other, defeated looking, yet defiant Elven mages and a few warriors walk, menaced by Drow. The Tower ahead is engulfed in flames.

" So, we meet again, Eva. " One of the tallest and most important looking Drow nobles that stand in confrontation.

" I suppose, given the circumstance, you are going to tell me where the Blue World Gem is; The one you have kept for centuries, safe from our lords sight? " He sneers. Drawing a thin dagger, he traces a line across the Elven mage's fragile neck, drawing blood.

Despite the threatening lord, the mage coughs and laughs.
" I have sent it away, Kalitias. Far away, where you will never find it. How is your master going to enjoy this news? "

For several moments, the Drow Lord looks upon her with disdain, before bursting out with maniac laughter. The other nobles join in.

" Why might you find this funny, Kalitias? Or are you laughing because there is nothing else you can do...? " She speaks softly.

Kalitias Stops, and regards Eva with a piercing stare. He reaches within his cloak, revealing a Shining Blue stone; The mage gasps and curses Kalitias.

" Did you really think your puny spell could be matched by me? The Blue World Gem is mine; and you have failed. Think how pleased the Master will be now... "

Eva falls to her knees. This is torture to her; Just as Kalitias intended. He enjoys it for a few moments.

With one stroke, he beheads the mage.


Gabriel and Nelok, I assume have halted to see this scene. They have a few moments to react. Victor and Teevo have easily hidden themselves, And are in an Ideal place to strike from hiding or cover a retreat. Betsy is with Nelok.
None of the enemy, nor the elves are aware of teevo and victor as you know. (good checks XD)

There are 4 ranks of 10 drow soldiers, 8 minotaurs, far apart, and 3 nobles and Kalitias. The ranks of drow are in two groups, with the path between them (where the nobles are) being 30ft wide, with 5 ft space between the ranks. The minotaur groups stand a good 100ft away, near the ruined tower's doors. The Highborns stand 60ft away from Betsy and Nelok; The Elven prisoners stand 75ft away from Nelok and Betsy and 15ft from the Nobles. I'm getting a map ready.



OOPS. I forgot to say what they were armed with:
OK... So the Drow warrriors are spearmen, with breastplate and heavy shield. You can see they have longswords.
The minotaurs: 4 carry a massive halberd and 4 carry heavy steel shields and bastard swords. They wear full plate.

The elite Drow warriors are carrying halberds.
The high borns carry greatswords.
Kalitias has a bastard sword and dagger.
All Highborns wear breastplate.
You can see the warriors all have master work weapons (Spears and halberds)


Dante.

[Cadian 9th]

Nelok and Gabriel advance toward the scene, while Teevo and Victor take a flanking position each. Betsy lumbers behind the two martial champions...
As they advance, a flurry of activity among the prisoners reveals a one sided melee in the center, as the Elves attempt to escape. They hack at their captors, dropping a few, yet are overpowered. Some die, some are knocked out.

With speed, Teevo scuttles up on his spidery legs. He draws bead on the huge, armoured minotaurs, picking out one’s vulnerable neck, the weakest point in their plate armour. As Gabriel and Nelok prepare to charge, Teevo lets loose, and the arrow strikes true. The arrow, sneakily placed, penetrates the armour and critically punctures the Minotaurs neck, killing him in an instant.

With the roar of the warlord, Nelok rushes into melee, charging at Kalitias. With an expression of disdain upon his face, Kalitias is knocked back, disdain turning to surprise then anger as electricity plays across his armour. Now visible, the Blue World Gem gleams, and he wore bracers which augmented his strength, and a ring upon his finger which shimmered with shielding energies.

With a war cry, the Drow react. Several of the Highborns break off and one charges into Betsy, greatsword, cutting a wound with his arcane blade. Several other Highborns attack Nelok, yet, his armour of adamantine holds firm against the deadly blades. Kalitias waves his hand and sneers.

How dare you? Fool, I will slay you and your stupidity will be your doom!”“

With two strokes of his greatsword, one glances and one hits a critical area of Nelok’s anatomy, causing deep pain. Even after smiting Nelok, Kalitias shifts himself into a better combat stance, ready for battle.
“Hold, sons of mine!” Kalitias cries to his warriors: “I’ll deal with this pathetic Hobgoblin myself!”

At their Lord’s command, The Drow warriors keep ranks, nervously glancing at Betsy.

Gabriel kisses his longsword, and, bellowing a warcry, charges Kalitias.
He brings back his blade for a mighty blow, smashing through Kalitias now bloodied Mithril armour.

“Ahh! There are two of you!” Kalitias sneers. He glances at Gabriel’s blade. “Your sword will make a fine addition, to my... Collection!”

“By the oath I swore my dying lord, you will NOT.”, Gabriel challenges.

From the shadows, Victor appears. The man lifts bow to eye, and with incredible speed and accuracy, fires upon 6 of the ranked Drow warriors. Every one of them falls to the ground, an arrow at the throat. The other Drow react with panic, and then assurance as battle tactics drilled into them take control. They turn and face, shields up.

In retaliation to the Highborns’ impudence, Betsy rears up and strikes the highborn, gripping the male elf in a bear hug of death. The highborn cries out with pain as the Bear claws leave their mark. He staggers, almost spent, gripped in the embrace of an immensely strong bear.

The next few moments of the combat pass with success. Teevo slays yet more minotaurs, leaving them in tatters. Nelok cuts deeply into Kalitias, combat experience providing no defence. Nelok deals a critical deathblow to Kalitias; He falls to the ground, wearing a blood splattered sneer.

Instantly, Nelok swings at the nearby Highborns who dared to attack him, leaving one close to death and another cut in two.

“It looks like your life's been... cut short.”

The Drow mobilise, assuming battle formations. Several put their spears out, ready to attack any charging opponents, and others cover each other. Taking up highground positions, shields out, the Drow present an intimidating defence, minotaurs ready to pick the party off.

However, this party refuses to be intimidated. Each one vows Death or Absolution, so none is afraid to fight on.

Betsy crushes the weak highborn who drew and stuck a dagger in her, crushing him with her great strength. Betsy rears back to her full height and sinks her claws into the Highborn’s back and let him fall at her feet. She tosses her head back, roaring a challenge.

The Drow warriors who had encroached upon her freeze in their tracks; Fazed for a moment.

Then, assuming a defensive formation, all put their shields out and brace for impact, front rank with longswords, back rank with spears. With their swords they inflict neglible wounds on Betsy, the massive bear simply ignoring the tiny stings. An elite, in the center, leaps to cover her highborn liege, hacking with her halberd. It seems safe, yet Gabriel is pulled to the ground by a tripping blade. Confident in his escape, arrogant in his victory over Gabriel, the Highborn is caught by Nelok’s flashing, lightning sheathed blade, killing him instantly.

Gabriel rises, fury blazing in his eyes. Speaking a word of power in Celestial, his sword begins to glow with an azure flame, and he lashes out at the Elite who dared to attack him with all the fury of the gods behind him. His shield, enchanted as it is, brightens to holy light, blinding nearby Drow.

The next minute passes with great fortune, Nelok and Gabriel rise to their feet and cut into the ranks. Drow after Drow fall and Victor’s arrows be slaying so many. Betsy slays several of the puny elves who stand like a porcupine, ignoring the piercing spears.

The real challenge comes when the remaining Minotaurs enter the fray, roaring. They charge, horns lowered, and Gabriel feels true pain as the horn gores his shoulder. Another tries to gore victor, but he dodges. Confident, Victor is smashed by the same Minotaurs halberd, an attack with extraordinary speed beyond whatever he’s ever seen.

Teevo opens up, hidden from the beginning of combat to the end. He drops another few Minotaurs, but not before the moment of horror. A Minotaur, braying, charges Victor even after its comrade falls. The horns catch Victor, crippling him, but not before the Arcane Halberd, wielded with incredible strength, smashes into him, knocking him away and leaving him dying. Nelok snatches the Blue World Gem from Kalitias’ corpse, securing them victory but one they will have to fight to retain.

The Drow recover from blindness, but are still dazzled. Several take the initiative, casting spells of darkness, while others cast spells which outlined the party in fire. Three shield of the standing Drow emanate darkness, making everything harder to see and dimming Gabriel’s shield. “It’s Gabriel! We should fall back!” One cries.

From the shadows of the tower, the party hears a chilling voice. “Not without the gem...” a highborn intones.

“Suffer my wrath!” Gabriel cries in elven.

Into the darkness, the knight strides. Gabriel walks with confidence.
Finally, the last few Drow are eliminated, by arrow, by blade, by claw and tooth. The remainder regroup at the tower, and the confrontation revealed arises.

Teevo spots their threat. “There’s a Drow Mage at the steps of the tower!”

"Kill the mage!" Gabriel shouts to his companions.

Some drow dare to try to retrieve the shields which emanate darkness, and are killed by Gabriel and Nelok for their impudence. Both swords slice the same target, and following through, Gabriel slays another 3 warriors.

The battle pauses as a massive fireball speeds towards the fallen victor and Nelok adn Gabriel. All dodge, but Nelok feels the heat hit him as he ducks a moment to late. Hegroans as the spell hits home. The darkness of the warriors is dismissed, and the mage is reavealed. Forcefields emanate from his bracers, and his entire outfit, cloak and ring, glows with magic.

Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully up on the hillside, Teevo scuttles closer to the mage, picking out an ideal position where he can just barely make out a tempting-looking spot at the base of the mage's neck. A draconic grin splits his muzzle as he pulls back and lets an arrow fly. The missile hisses silently through the air as it suddenly shimmers midflight, splitting itself into two identical arrows that soar towards the mage's vulnerable neck. Even as the missiles fly forth, Teevo ducks back down behind the hill again.

The Mage looks around, then narrows his eyes. He raises his hand and points at nelok...

...only to be shot throught the heart. With warcries, Gabriels warriors arrive, shouting aleigance!

With their skill an suprise, they kill off several wariors and establish a perimeter aroun the fallen Victor an the upright Nelok and Gabriel

“My lord, my father!”

” There are many more on the way, we must fall back now!” The cleric of Gabriels troops goes to victor and feels his neck. He stabilizes Victor.

The mage coughs, still alive, and first teevo, then all, hear that sound: Marching. Roars and orders.

[IonDragon]

Betsy backs away from the approaching medic, head low growling in challenge as he nears Victor. As victor stands, she rushes forward to nuzzle him and lift him onto her back.

I'm OK, girl. Let's get out of here. Hey! Someone grab that mage and let's go before reinforcements show up.

[Tyrael]

Dear God, wall of text! It burns my eyes! Please, please, please use paragraph breaks!

[Tyrael]

Teevo lowers himself back to the ground as his spidery mechanical legs retract back into his backpack, where he stows his bow and other gear as well to leave his hands free as he hurries towards the group.

"We should hurry," the little Kobold mutters. "They sound pretty close."

[Zerkai]

".... Alright then. Lead the way." Nelok nodded, thankful for the reinforcements. The Warlord sheathed his sword and knelt down with a wince from his wounds as he knelt down to pick up the mage

"Where are we running to" He asked, looking around at them as he stood up, mage slung over his shoulder and ready to move.

[Cadian 9th]

Just as Nelok hoists the mage over his armoured shoulders, the mage's robes shift and He notices a scarper.

You all get the hunch that something Invisible is around, something tiny. In a few minute air rushes, the presence leaves the area, now the only thing heard is the cries of dying drow being put to rest.

Gabriel's men at arms stand at attention.

Dante.