rip the flaness apart

[white rider]

The IC thread. All your RPing goodies go here.

[DrK]

The storms whipped around the roof of the tower howling as it was compressed by the mountains and the Tower of the Temple. The Temple jutted out on its plinth of rock, the thin bridge connecting it the path was covered in snow and ice and blasted by the winds generated by the Ice Heart hidden in the heart of the fortress.

Olaf looked down from the Tower roof. Behind him the 3 massive steelwings stretched their wings on their stands, the strange extraplanar birds with their 60ft adamantine wing spans were some of his friends, he had reared them from chicks. In the courtyard below him were some of the newest recruits training hard, Skaine barking orders at them as they began to master the basics of the Iron Heart discipline. He would commend Skaine later when they had a private practice in his Tower.

A soft voice beyond him broke his reverie... "Olaf, are you coming in?". He turned to see Atli standing there, his wife tall and proud with a warrior's bearing. He still remembered their first meeting some 12 years ago. The frozen mountains not that disimilar to the bleak lands of the Hurgan. "Yes dear. I shall be in a minute. There is a change coming". His voice deep, coarse and harsh as he looked into the black clouds bloated with heavy snow and ice. "I can feel it. Soon the Temple will be in danger. Do not fear, I shall keep you and Ethil safe".. She nodded, her hair blowing in the gale. "I know my heart. Sif watches over us and your spear and sword will defend us." Olaf nodded dutifully as his eyes narrowed, A mistake. The students need more time. I shall have to spend more time with Skaine. The Iron Heart is the most important of the disciplines..

Heading down from the tower top he passed through his private museum of trophies and memories from battles past. Dragon scales, tusked skulls and barbed demon weapons remind of the foes defeated, whilst a battered shield emblazoned with Pelor, a staff broken in two and a portrait of a young thin human woman the reminders of fellow adventurers who had not been as lucky, as skilled or as fundamentally violent as Olaf. Passing down to the floor beneath he could hear Orloff preaching the glories of Sif to the crusaders in the chapel and a few sevants singing and chanting odes to the gods in the large auditorium. The bustle filled with Olaf with pride, he had helped rebuild this but he could still sense something bad coming.

Heading down to the busy dining room he sought out the wizened small gnome. "Gineth?" he asked. His voice quieting the men and warriors in the dining hall as they craned their heads to hear their lord speak. Olaf silently shook his head... there was to be no lesson right now. Leaning closer down to the gnome, he seemed like muscled giant next to her "What news from the Inns? Is there trouble. I am uneasy?"...

[Toliudar]

"And congratulations also to the border fort at Ely. Not only did they complete construction on their new stockade, but also managed to discourage a pack of wights from even trying to get close to the border last night. May Pelor's light shine steady and bright on you, ladies and gentlemen.

"This is what a wight looks like, brothers and sisters. Note the prominent fangs, and the telltale yellowing of the eyes. They have the ability to suck the life right out of you with a touch. If you see one at the border, raise an alarm immediately. Use your slings and bows at a distance, and call for help from your local priest.

"Next, I'd like to read this letter next from our friends, the Four Diamond Merchant Coalition in Dyvers. 'To the Pelor's Light Crafts Guild, care of the house of Alla. We are pleased confirm receipt of four hundred swords, each measuring precisely thirty-three inches. You may be pleased to know that two hundred and fifty of these swords have already been sold on to a group of Shield Knights bound for the northern wars. The consistency, balance and sharpness of your work is remarkable. Congratulations. We hope that we will be able to make further connections with your Guild for many years to come. Signed, Daewell Stockwell, Guild Magister and Accounts Supervisor.' Congratulations and thanks again to Sister Mercy for her exceptional work on Pelor's Fountain of Blades.

"Finally, a special blessing to Jessop and Vallarin Whitecourt, on the birth of their daughter Sophi. See, isn't she a cutie!

"And I'm afraid that that's all that we have time for this evening, brothers and sisters. Sleep well, and Pelor's blessings on you."

Alla blinked and wrapped up the link, feeling the contact with ten thousand minds fade to nothing. She smiled wanly to young Brother Calamer.

"Well, I think that went well."

He grinned and waggled his hands in a 'so so' gesture.

"I dunno, Grandmother. You don't think it's a bit hokey to always be showing pictures of babies at the end?"

Alla chuckled, and patted the acolyte on the shoulder.

"After everything that we've been through, the peopel need hope. And nothing says hope like a baby, kid."

She rose from her meditation chair and went to the washbasin. She splashed cold water on her face. Controlling the flow of words and images to make sure that none of her own worries seeped through was always a strain. She sought out Mercy's mind among the milling hundreds in the House.

"I am going to seek another friend for the mission. Do you have time to join me?"

Mercy's mental voice, sharp and weary, came back after only a moment. The impatience and frustration was evident in her voice.

"Blast it! Not tonight, I'm afraid. The new defensive trap for the main gate is giving me a headache, but I feel like the problem is in the force lines in the summoning region. I've almost got it. I want it in place before we go. Have fun, though. Who are you going after?"

Alla frowned slightly. Mercy was still so young, but she was burning herself out with work. But what could Alla say? The sharp-tongued woman would only point to Alla's own fifteen-hour workdays.

"Olaf, I think. He's often out during the day, so I thought that evening might be the best time to reach him, and it should be dark there now. Shall I give your regards to Erik?"

"I do NOT carry a torch for Erik. If you continue to insinuate otherwise, you old buzzard, I shall blast a hole in your new robe, and in your ass to boot."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too...ow!"

Alla winced, then grinned, as she felt Mercy cut short the connection. Now...what to wear for a meeting with the most powerful warrior alive?

Heading to her small bedroom, Alla gestured for the night acolyte on duty...Bealla, she thought...to join her. Alla hung up her grey robe, and took off her surplice, revealing gleaming mithril underneath. She took out the tiny spear-axe, looking barely the size of a child's toy, and experimentally caused to to grow to the length of the room before restoring it to a size such that a halfling might use it with some degree of grace. She glanced at herself in the mirror, noting that there was more grey up top than the last time she'd checked. When had that been? With Bealla's help, Alla slid her spiked gauntlets onto strong, if slightly arthritic, hands, and her small shield onto her arm. A golden crystal floated off of her dressing table and affixed itself to the throat-clasp of her shirt of mail. Alla held a hand to it, enjoying the warmth for a moment, then turned and nodded to dismiss Bealla.

Alla slipped out into the hall, nodding cursorily to a pair of lay-workers on their way past. They were clearly startled. It was not often anymore that Grandmother Virk appeared in full battle regalia. She made her way to the Chamber of Circles, where a dozen guards stood at ready. Four of them, she realized, were actually loyal to Olaf. Well, she thought, she'd just better bring him back alive. She nodded to the warriors and stepped to the fourth circle, murmuring a password to activate the power within. The loop blazed with blue light for a moment, and Alla stepped in.

Emerging in a much colder climate, higher up, was always disorienting. Doubly so when you find a pair of very large swords pointed towards you. Alla smiled benignly up at the guards.

"Why, Huorn and Valli, as I live and breathe. It's good to see you both again. Huorn, that moustache is very fetching, and don't let anyone tell you different. Valli, it looks like you've been mastering your study of the Diamond Mind stances. Bravo. I don't suppose you could tell me if Atli and Olaf are in residence tonight. I'd really like to speak with them."

[DrK]

"Why, Huorn and Valli, as I live and breathe. It's good to see you both again. Huorn, that moustache is very fetching, and don't let anyone tell you different. Valli, it looks like you've been mastering your study of the Diamond Mind stances. Bravo. I don't suppose you could tell me if Atli and Olaf are in residence tonight. I'd really like to speak with them."

The two guards on the main gate started as the dimunitive halfling, glowing with power and clad in mithril appeared from nowhere. Both went for their weapons before seeing who it was and flushing red wih embarassment. "Well met Lady Alla. Please enter and be welcome. We shall send someone to fetch our Lord and Lady". As the massive iron door swings open and All steps within the icy blast of the freezing wind is cut off and replaced with the sound of revelry, shouting and singing.

The doorway opens straight into the grand hall and the high arched stone ceilings and walls are decorated with trophies and almost every kind of weapon imaginable. Training tools lie scattered around and at the far ene dof the room upon a small plinth large throne stands to dominate the room. As Skadi, one of the serving girls, leads Alla in she looks down at the halfling, a hint of worry in her eyes, "Grandmother Alla. Are you here to take our Lord away from us?". Olaf, while known far and wide as a creature of unbridled desruction and death took care of all in his Temple and was well loved by them. Skadi led Alla through the busy dining hall and tavern, the noise diminishing down to a whisper as the warriors, guards and servants all offered respectful bows and curtsies to the aged clerc, their huge roasted haunches of meat and horns of mead temporaily forgotten. "Gods bless you Grandmother". "Can I fetch anything Lady Alla". "Do you need Aid grandmother..." a few of the quiet requests as she passes through.

As she begins to climb stone stairs the noise slowly returns to the tavern as the students begin to debate what has brought the old halfling to see the Master of Blades. The stairs, like many of the corridors include trophies of the martial arts, one she recognises, it may be a premonition what is to come- a Balor's sword blade, sheared off half way down its length. The inscription below, written in both common and the barbarian cold tongue, reading "The foul demon Askard'hash'Bakla fough the Temple Master. Both battling in the heart of the lake of fire. The demon thrust his blade through the Master's shoulder but the Master was not to be dissuaded and took the great demon by the throat with his bare hands. Revealing his cowardice the beast fled, vanishing back to its hellish home. The blade remaining in the Master's shoulder..."

Eventually, and still following the young Skadii she arrives in the Olaf's private quarters. Inside the scene is not what she expects. In the corner of the large room strewn with cloths and weapons, a light perfume fraganting the air is a small bed. The bed a wooden crafted thing of great beauty with dragons and giants on the ends containing a young 10 year old girl gleaming with almost unnatural power. Beside the bed hunched over with a strangely gentle look on his face the Master of Blades. A massive hulking brute of a man festooned with the scars of a thousand battles his actions seem out of character as he reads Ethil the story. "The fey elves danced and sang in the moonlight. The feat going for many hours as they celebrated..... At the sound of the door opening the gruff voice cuts off and Olaf turns to see who has entered. "Grandmother Alla. Be welcome to my home. "Granny!" the young girl shouts as she rockets out of bed to run to the halfing. The 10 year old built like her father already towers over the halfling and her impact is crushing in the over enthusiastic embrace of a child.

"Enough now Ethil. Back to bed." The giant mutters softly. Skadii, would you mind finishing the tale?" The youngservant blushes at being addressed by name but nods her aquisence.

"Good night sweet darling. May dreams bring tales of valour." With his daughter returned to bed Olaf beckoned the Lady Alla to follow as he headed into his private study. The room looking bare of decoration and trinkets, warded by powerful magic. "Well met Alla. How can I help you. Would you like food, drink, warm milk?. His hand srokes the bone hilt of his massive blade at his side, "I have felt something coming. A sense of unease that my skills will be tested again".

[Toliudar]

The doorway opens straight into the grand hall and the high arched stone ceilings and walls are decorated with trophies and almost every kind of weapon imaginable. Training tools lie scattered around and at the far ene dof the room upon a small plinth large throne stands to dominate the room. As Skadi, one of the serving girls, leads Alla in she looks down at the halfling, a hint of worry in her eyes, "Grandmother Alla. Are you here to take our Lord away from us?".

Alla smiled and reached up to take Skadi's hand.

"Skadi, no one takes your master anywhere he doesn't wish to be. And from where I hope we'll go, he'll be back as soon as I am. Can you guide me to him, please?"

Olaf, while known far and wide as a creature of unbridled desruction and death took care of all in his Temple and was well loved by them. Skadi led Alla through the busy dining hall and tavern, the noise diminishing down to a whisper as the warriors, guards and servants all offered respectful bows and curtsies to the aged clerc, their huge roasted haunches of meat and horns of mead temporaily forgotten. "Gods bless you Grandmother". "Can I fetch anything Lady Alla". "Do you need Aid grandmother..." a few of the quiet requests as she passes through.

Alla breathes deeply of the smells of the hall, but nods and declines the kindly offers of food and aid. "I wish I could linger here...that roast pork smells absolutely amazing. Do you use honey or sugar on the glazing?"

As she begins to climb stone stairs the noise slowly returns to the tavern as the students begin to debate what has brought the old halfling to see the Master of Blades. The stairs, like many of the corridors include trophies of the martial arts, one she recognises, it may be a premonition what is to come- a Balor's sword blade, sheared off half way down its length. The inscription below, written in both common and the barbarian cold tongue, reading "The foul demon Askard'hash'Bakla fough the Temple Master. Both battling in the heart of the lake of fire. The demon thrust his blade through the Master's shoulder but the Master was not to be dissuaded and took the great demon by the throat with his bare hands. Revealing his cowardice the beast fled, vanishing back to its hellish home. The blade remaining in the Master's shoulder..."

Alla nodded grimly. She had indeed come to the right place.

Eventually, and still following the young Skadii she arrives in the Olaf's private quarters. Inside the scene is not what she expects. In the corner of the large room strewn with cloths and weapons, a light perfume fraganting the air is a small bed. The bed a wooden crafted thing of great beauty with dragons and giants on the ends containing a young 10 year old girl gleaming with almost unnatural power. Beside the bed hunched over with a strangely gentle look on his face the Master of Blades. A massive hulking brute of a man festooned with the scars of a thousand battles his actions seem out of character as he reads Ethil the story. "The fey elves danced and sang in the moonlight. The feast going for many hours as they celebrated..... At the sound of the door opening the gruff voice cuts off and Olaf turns to see who has entered. "Grandmother Alla. Be welcome to my home. "Granny!" the young girl shouts as she rockets out of bed to run to the halfing. The 10 year old built like her father already towers over the halfling and her impact is crushing in the over enthusiastic embrace of a child.

Alla does her best to brace herself, picked up and flung about in a delightfully undignified manner. Although breathing...breathing would be useful...ah, yes. There we go.

"Ethil? This can't be Ethil? Ethil is a little girl! This is practically a young woman. Ah, sweetheart, you're so beautiful."

"Enough now Ethil. Back to bed." The giant mutters softly. Skadii, would you mind finishing the tale?" The young servant blushes at being addressed by name but nods her aquiescence.

"Good night sweet darling. May dreams bring tales of valour." With his daughter returned to bed Olaf beckoned the Lady Alla to follow as he headed into his private study. The room looking bare of decoration and trinkets, warded by powerful magic. "Well met Alla. How can I help you. Would you like food, drink, warm milk?. His hand srokes the bone hilt of his massive blade at his side, "I have felt something coming. A sense of unease that my skills will be tested again".

Alla nods and follows Olaf into his study.

"Milk would be wonderful, Olaf, thank you."

Hopping up into a visitor's chair that is too large for her by at least a factor of four, and with a nimbleness that belied her years, Alla sets aside the rather silly trappings of war on the seat next to her, and tucks her knees up to her chin.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, Olaf, and I won't be offended if you say no. As you know, the ruins of the Great Kingdom have mostly been swallowed up by its northern and southern provinces, leaving a band in the middle where anarchy and a few twisted death knights rule."

Alla pauses as a servant arrives with the requested milk, and nods a silent thank you. She sips pensively.

"Mmm. Yak or sheep?"

And then back on topic.

"I wouldn't mind so much - the troubled area around Rauxes is a thorn in Xavener's side, and anything that weakens Ahlissa would normally be all right with me. But we've seen a lot of low-end fiends - soldier 'loths, chain devils and the like - showing up on our borders in the last few months. Nothing that Mercy and I can't handle, but we can't be everywhere at once. And it's a sign.

"Olaf, I think it means that the purge of fiends that was effected by the Crook of Rao has faded, and they're moving back into the land in numbers. It also probably means that the so-called impenetrable barrier around the hellmouth that Rauxes became is not so impenetrable any more. So, I'm proposing to gather a strike team of the boldest warriors, the most knowledgeable wizards that I can muster. That we go into the remains of Rauxes, and we try to seal off the breaches to the nether realms, once and for all."

Grandmother Alla speaks with a quiet matter-of-factness, it would seem more like she was discussing a Sunday tea than a strike against the most ancient and active font of malice on the continent.

"I don't know if you've met Them Hepmural? Enigmatic fellow. Travels the continent in a floating fortress that makes Zagig's tower seem like a sidewalk beer garden. As dedicated a follower of Pelor as any you're likely to meet. He's already agreed to take part. And I'm still looking for a few more. I'm hoping to have everyone assembled in a few days. Would you be willing to help out?"

[DrK]

Alla nods and follows Olaf into his study.

"Milk would be wonderful, Olaf, thank you."

Hopping up into a visitor's chair that is too large for her by at least a factor of four, and with a nimbleness that belied her years, Alla sets aside the rather silly trappings of war on the seat next to her, and tucks her knees up to her chin.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, Olaf, and I won't be offended if you say no. As you know, the ruins of the Great Kingdom have mostly been swallowed up by its northern and southern provinces, leaving a band in the middle where anarchy and a few twisted death knights rule."

Alla pauses as a servant arrives with the requested milk, and nods a silent thank you. She sips pensively.

"Mmm. Yak or sheep?"

And then back on topic.

"I wouldn't mind so much - the troubled area around Rauxes is a thorn in Xavener's side, and anything that weakens Ahlissa would normally be all right with me. But we've seen a lot of low-end fiends - soldier 'loths, chain devils and the like - showing up on our borders in the last few months. Nothing that Mercy and I can't handle, but we can't be everywhere at once. And it's a sign.

"Olaf, I think it means that the purge of fiends that was effected by the Crook of Rao has faded, and they're moving back into the land in numbers. It also probably means that the so-called impenetrable barrier around the hellmouth that Rauxes became is not so impenetrable any more. So, I'm proposing to gather a strike team of the boldest warriors, the most knowledgeable wizards that I can muster. That we go into the remains of Rauxes, and we try to seal off the breaches to the nether realms, once and for all."

Grandmother Alla speaks with a quiet matter-of-factness, it would seem more like she was discussing a Sunday tea than a strike against the most ancient and active font of malice on the continent.

"I don't know if you've met Them Hepmural? Enigmatic fellow. Travels the continent in a floating fortress that makes Zagig's tower seem like a sidewalk beer garden. As dedicated a follower of Pelor as any you're likely to meet. He's already agreed to take part. And I'm still looking for a few more. I'm hoping to have everyone assembled in a few days. Would you be willing to help out?"

Olaf listens intently as the elderly halfling speaks explaingnig the problems that may be about to beset her small fledgling, but growing, kingdom. At the mention of milk he shrugs slightly.... "Close enough to be called yak". Before waving at her to go on.

At the mention of Them he concentrates searching his memory before shaking his head, unkempt shaggy hair flapping about. "I am afraid not Mother Alla. I spend much time here and in general most of the wizards I meet do not survive the meeting... If he is, as you say, a servant of Pelor then I will be glad to know him and fight alongside him. You know I have much respect for your Sun Lord."

At the mention of the growing armies of fiends attacking her borders he scowls, massive hands clenching and knuckles tightening drawing the eye to the iron hard nails and reminders of the rumours that the man sat before her had torn the throat out of the green Wyrm Khosska with naught but his bare hands. "If you wish I can strip some men from my watch forts to reinforce your border. They are all doughty warriors, skilled with axe and shield. If you wish scouts I can dispatch one of my steelwings to aid your border patrols?"

Spoiler

Show

He means offering some of his 340 hireling 4th level warrior vikings. Maybe even a Steelwing! (A fun CR14 flying adamantine coated bird of doom!!)

His eyes narrow as she outlines her plans he nods in agreement. "You know that I bear much hatred for the fiends. They destroyed my people and I feel nothing save vengeance for them. When you wish to leave my axe and sword will go with you. Gladly so.". He looks quizzically again at the woman, "This quest will be dangerous, are you sure you wish to put yourself at risk Mother? Your loss would devastate Chathold.". The question is phrased respectfully. He is aware of her power as the favoured scion of Pelor on Oerth, but still... she is frail and old. "Do you wish to leave immediatly? If so I need but an hour to save my farewells to Atli and Ethel, instruct my students and have Sleipnir woken and saddled.

[Toliudar]

Alla

Visibly relieved by his immediate offer of aid, Alla waves off Olaf's concerns about her health.

"Olaf, I'm old enough to have stared at death, and I'm not overmuch afraid of it. Besides, I'm just a dried up old spinster. You're the family man with children to think of, and I don't see it stopping you, Mister 'I killed a balor with his sword stuck in my shoulder'."

Her gaze turns towards the door they had come through, and to Ethil beyond, perhaps, and she becomes sombre again.

"And you know the love I bear for you and your family, Olaf. What you have accomplished here at the temple these last few years is nothing short of remarkable. You're a beacon of hope in what has been a pretty blighted corner of the world.

"If I had my druthers, none of us would be doing this. But for ten years and more now, Mercy and I, and the people of Almor, have been fighting a defensive battle against the fiends, against the undead. We've carved out a little space, a little time. And the offer of your warriors is very kind, but if the fiends are coming south to us, odds are good that they'll start to show up on your doorstep as well.

"But, just once before I die, I'd like to win one, yes? Not just drive the darkness back a bit, but actually make a place for the light. Imagine what the closing of the hellmouth would mean, both to the health of the land, and as a symbol of hope to all the nations.

"As to how soon...well, Master Hepmural has secreted himself away in his inestimable library, looking for writings new and old about Rauxes. I'd like to shore up our group with a few more like-minded folk - and if you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear em. I want to travel light, to be able to move in and out without having to hold ground, so a small group would be best. As much as it might seem like a good idea to march in at the head of an army, I'd rather have five of you than five hundred of just about anyone else. If you know what I mean."

"All of which is to say...three days from now? Perhaps you and Sleipner could start with a visual reconnaissance over Rauxes, while I visit a few other possible allies. Or vice versa, if you prefer. It gives all of us a chance to put our affairs in order, pick up any other trinkets we may need, and still not have word of our intention spread too far. I think that Rauxes is still isolated from the world, but in case it's not, I'd rather not have whatever's inside knowing who we are and when we're coming."

She shrugs and slides forward to the edge of her chair.

"But I'm more used to organizing weddings and council meetings than warbands, these days. What do you suggest?"

[distant quasar]

"Just a little more... almost there..." the student squints down at the bottle he is mixing, attempting to mix his first potion. His partner stand beside him, hurriedly geting the next needed ingredient. Satisified, the furst student sets the vial back down, looking at the next step to refresh his mind. "It says we need 3 drops of citric acid... how odd can you possibly be..." His partner holds up the neccessary acid, squeezing in the drips with care. 1... 2... the next drop doesn't want to come. After a few attempts, the frutstrated student shakes the canister, and a small stream comes out. The potion begins to fizz up, then overflows...
"Argh!"

"Alright now, everyone." Jenor's voice is hear in the lab clearly. "Can anyone tell me what the proper procedure is when you can't get the needed liquid out of the stopper?"

"You grab a new one, and fix the problem later."

"That's right, Trant. But what if you need the liquid quickly, or else you'd ruin the potion?"

"um... You use magic to ease it out! A cantrip!"

"Excellent memory! Now, who wants to help Xan and Soal clean up their mess?"

A few more students get busy helping the unfortunate pair clean up the sticky liquid that was proving very hard to get off the floor.

"Now, I want everyone to have their completed potion stopped up and in my office in 2 hours, alright. Don't forget review the properties of basic alchemical subtances for your quiz tommorow!"

The students chimed their acceptance, without too much enthusiasm however. Nonetheless they knew they were fortunate to be a part of a university whose teaching methods were so hands-on. The University traveled around Oerth at whim, giving the students unparalled experiences around the world and preparing them to adventure in the name of Pelor.

Jenor watched the students work for a moment more, then went off to find his uncle...

Of course, he already knew where to look. Ever since Alla had visited, Themmer had been stored away in his library day and night, searching relentlessly for anything that might have to do with Rauxes. And of course, he had made it clear enough that he didn't want to be disturbed. Jenor knew, though, that his uncle needed to take a break.

"Jenor, your uncle is busy," calls Grant the head librarian upon seeing Jenor approaching, "Which I'm sure you're aware of."

"I know. I'm just gong to make sure he doesn't work himself to death, you know."

"Ah, don't worry. He's in some form or another so he doesn't need the sleep. I'd have thought you'd have realised that."

"I did. All the same, it'd be good for Them to take a break."

"... Fine. Just don't break anything." Not an imposibility, actually. Some of the older tomes were quite worn down, and turning a page to fast would easily cause it to rip out...

As Them was just reminded of. cursing for a moment under his breath, he looks up from the tome for the first time in hours. Stretching his current pair of feathery wings, he sighs. Then he spots Jenor approaching.
"I suppose it was only a matter of time before you tried to drag me away, eh? All the same I'm going to keep at it a while longer."
The Hepmurals could all tend to be a bit too persistant at times.

[COLOR="Olive"]"Don't make me drag you away, now. I know your body might not be tired, but I'm sure your brain is exhausted. How good is your research going to be when you can't even think straight?"[COLOR]

Them glares at Jenor a moment half-heartedly. "Fine. But now you have to bake me a cake too."

"wha-why?"

"My taste buds are lonely. Get working!" Themmer gets up and walks towards his quarters.
Jenor watches him go, then sighs and shakes his head. Of course, there was no reason for him to bake a cake personally... in the meantime, he takes a look at the books his uncle had left stacked near the desk he'd been working at. The list of incredibly dull names left him feeling bored already. Jenor shrugs and walks off towards the kitchen to set the cooks working. In fact, a cake didn't sound half bad for himself either...

[DrK]

"All of which is to say...three days from now? Perhaps you and Sleipner could start with a visual reconnaissance over Rauxes, while I visit a few other possible allies. Or vice versa, if you prefer. It gives all of us a chance to put our affairs in order, pick up any other trinkets we may need, and still not have word of our intention spread too far. I think that Rauxes is still isolated from the world, but in case it's not, I'd rather not have whatever's inside knowing who we are and when we're coming."[/COLOR]

She shrugs and slides forward to the edge of her chair.

"But I'm more used to organizing weddings and council meetings than warbands, these days. What do you suggest?"

It shall be as you say Grandmother Alla. Please stay the night, enjoy the hospitality of the Temple. The students will enjoy your prescence."

Olaf also rises, head near brushing the ceiling, to shout for a servant to saddle the massive horse Sleipnir at dawn. I shall depart in the morning and scout the area. Any demons I see shall be destroyed"...

Spoiler

Show

Looks like I'll be getting ready to go. Start by using the Platform of Greater Jaunting to teleport to the right area then do aerial recon...

I'll update my current prepared moves known later today.

[Togo]

With one last effort, the boat hisses forward onto the sand.

Are we in the right place?

Yes. The dwarf eases himself to the front, eyes the surf dubiously, and then jumps, landing on the rising beach. He gives a few practice tugs on the brine-soaked rope, and then hauls. His boots sink deep into the sand. The boat, laden as it is, slides a few protesting yards until it is clear of the water.

Because the last time I let you read the map, you said we were in Krakenhome, and it turned out...

You know this would easier if you got out of the boat.

Ya? With a effortless step, the large blond man steps onto the prow. For a moment he balances on the very tip, outlined against the sinking sun for a golden instant, before letting his momentum carry him over. With a single stride he is clear of the surf and standing next to his companion, coiling the rope around one fist.

Still this looks ok. No demons this time. So this place we're going to...

Chathold

You're sure it's the right place? It's the place on the map, and not, oh.... a border fort in Stygia say?

You're not going to let me forget that one, are you?

We land, is very cold, and I say, hey Baldan, are you sure this is Krakenhome? And you say, of course, of course, the map says so...

I didn't know we'd passed through a dimensional rift in that last storm.

The blond man sweeps his cloak aside, the spray beading on the rippling muscles of his tanned chest. With another heave the boat slides clear of the water entirely.

...So then I say, well if this is Krakenhome, what are all those winged things with pitchforks, and then we run. Again.

He glances around, his long blond hair streaming in the wing like a silken river.

I'd feel better if there were more people.

This is Almor, Canarius. It was pretty thoroughly depopulated.

Feels empty.

I know.

They drag the heavily laden rowboat up to the dunes. They stare at it.

The dwarf looks at the rowboat, whose wooden sides are just shorter than he is, and gives a sigh. You unload, and I deal with the boat?

The blond man nods, and starts flinging heavy sacks and boxes out of the boat. The dwarf concentrates, and shape of the boat starts to sparkle, to granulate, and then with a soft hiss, it collapses into glittering sand.

Hurry, the wind is up.

Still concentrating, the sand starts to flow and coallesce, into four disks, standing upright, a platform growing between them as the sand flows and stick into position, until the shape of a cart is formed. With a final burst of mental energy, the cart loses its sand-like quality and becomes wood, metal and leather.

The first of the bags lands on it with a thump. A box follows.

So we're taking this one seriously then?

Yes. I.. sent a trade ship, the Huntsmen, up to Roland, escorted by the Shibboleth.

That's.... Ah, you're thinking of Drax.

Yes.

The Sueloise man pulls a well-worn wand from his boot and leans over the rail of the now laden cart. With a flourish he conjures a horse.

It's only two miles

So? We should be arriving on dragonback!

She runs a poorhouse, Canarius.

Ya, but we want to look like allies, not inmates! We can't shuffle up to her door pulling our goods in a handcart. At least change your clothes. We need to make an impression.

And so it was that they arrived at Chathold, a hansome horse pulling a laden cart. Canarius wearing a sheer silk shirt in concession to the wind, his cloak of deepest blue flapping from his shoulders, and his waist length blond hair streaming in the wind. His every move is oiled grace, his every word is charm. Baldan hanging behind in a jacket of blue fur tipped with silver, seemingly more interested in the masonry than the inhabitents.

Canarius steps forward to introduce himself.

Hi. I'm a revolutionary. I'm here about the war?

[Toliudar]

There is a small watch-tower on the shore not far from the beach on which Baldan and Canarius land, but it looks abandoned.

The lands between the bay and Chathold are showing signs of being recently worked, and with the warmth of spring full on the land, there are dozens of farmers out breaking soil and planting. The dwarf and man receive many a cheerful wave and curious gaze on their way towards the city. The wind is brisk, and there are clouds in the southwest that seem to predict rain to come.

Chathold itself shows many scars of the decade-old war. Most of the outbuildings that are still standing are either very new, or else show signs of major repairs and patching-up. Entire neighbourhoods outside the walls are still little more than piles of rubble.

The walls of Chathold are a study in contrast. They seem to have been built up in seamless masses of basalt, clearly magical creations, to a height of 30 feet, but then hastily modified to make better provision for watch-points and emplacements. Not very many buildings peek up over the walls. The walls extend some hundred feet out into the waters of the bay. There are a few anxious-looking warriors on the walls, but the main gatehouse - also looking very new and crafted in broad strokes by magic - shows a steady stream of traffic in and out - mostly small wagons, and human and halfling farmers carrying sacks out of the city. To Balran and Canarius' keen eyes, the outbound travellers are moving more quickly than their loads should allow.

A quartet of guards in simple livery, showing a stylized sun shining out behind a crenelated wall, are processing visitors. An additional four are at the far end of the gatehouse, and a stone slab covers the floor of the passage between. The gates themselves, currently wide open, are clearly new, with massive timbers painted red, so recently that you can practically smell the paint. Beyond there are dirt roads and a scattered mix of buildings, all similarly either hastily thrown together, much-patched, or showing the unimaginative architecture of magical crafting.

The largest of the guards, a burly man of northern aspect, smiles wearily as the dwarf and man pull up in the wagon. He smiles a bit quizzically, but seems pleased to hear their words.

"Wars we're short on, Sif be praised, but plenty of battles. Are you here to sign up with the militia, or the city guard then? We've certainly got room for more."

The big man's accent matches his look. His tone is clearly hopeful, although the two men's fine clothes seem to cast some doubt on those hopes.

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Once Baldan and Canarius hit shore, they'd be into an area covered by Hallow, in case they're sensitive to such things. I've assumed that they're approaching from the west. Approaching from the east tends to be more of a pain in the ass, since that's the direction trouble usually comes.

[Togo]

You see?! Carnarius says. Dragonback! Baldan ignores him, staring at the watchtowers and crenalations with an intent expression. Canarius turns back to the guardsmen. Alas for the militia, and I weep for the city guard, for although I would be fascinated to see them in action, that is not our destination today. We sorry and footsore travellers....

We came by boat. Says Baldan, eyes still fixed on the stone walls.

...we sorry and footsore travellers, repeats Canarius with emphasis, have come across your humble abode not by chance, no, nor by happenstance, but as voyagers of the will, as ambassadors of action, as instruments of intention, and that intention, forged in the crucible of our ambition and fired by our steadfast and holy purpose, is a visitation upon the most wonderous and worshipful lady Alla, to discuss vital matters of state. Could you possibly inform the Chateline of Pelor's Light that there are visitors awaiting the glory and majesty of her presence, to whit, one hero, called 'The Canary', and his ugly dwarvern companion.

This earns a snort from Baldan, but he seems entranced by the movement of the people past the gate. Burdens going in, burdens going out. Eventually he glances up.

We're here to see Lady Alla. Is she in?

[DrK]

After speaking with Alla and offering her the sanctuary of the Temple Olaf returns to Ethil's room. The giant towering over the girl like some sort of fearsome scarred statue watches her for some 20 minutes as she sleeps before gently kissing her and leaving the room returning to his chambers.

Entering the chambers he smiles at the glowing valkyrie lying under the dire bear furs that cover the low bed. "In the morning I shall leave. The Grandmother brings word of demons and beasts of the underworld that are invading from another realm." Atli looks up at him, concern for Olaf clouding her face. "Is it necessary for you to do this. There are other warriors."

Olaf looks at her, a hand brushing his wife's face. "There are others my heart, but none of them are me. None have my skills and none have my thirst for vengeance. Come let us sleep, then I shall leave...

In the morning as the snow and wind rages around the Temple and ice coats the walls Olaf takes leave, slipping out of his chambers before wife and daughter awaken. Heading down to the stables he greets Sleipnir like an old friend. THe massive warhorse of legend had been a friend and companion for many years and they knew each other. Seeing his master garbed for battle with armour, sword and spear, boots and gauntlets the horse whinnied and reared up massive barded plates and saddle ready for combat. Mounting up Olaf trotted towards the small courtyard, a few of the students and the guards on the wall watching him with worried or eager expressions. Approaching the low platform covered with runes he holds the horse by the harness and presses a few small well hidden runes envisioning the maps hanging in the library and the meeting of the Imeda and Nallid rivers.

With a Flash and influx of displaced air the ground crunches beneath his feet and the massive spiked hooves of the horse as he surveys the ruins of Rauxes in the distance and the rushing water surrounding him. "Shall we explore then my friend?" Olaf asks the horse as he vaults up onto its back pulling the reins gently as the horse shoots into the sky racing through the air towards the ruined city that is the heart of the infestation of the demons...

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@Toliudar: Where was I to meet you?
@White rider: I'll update my sheet with todays' readied moves.

[Toliudar]

Allan rises to embrace Olaf, drifting up off of the ground in order to reach his neck.

"Now you know how much I love playing with Ethil, and I have the bruises to prove it."

Allan winked, her affection clear.

"but I shall have to forego your legendary hospitality tonight. It's still daylight back at Chathold, and I'm expected to bless a meeting of the new city council tonight. Ah, the glamour of it all. Keep in touch, and don't take any chances you dont need to tomorrow."

Releasing the mighty warrior, Alla drifts earthward again and toddles off towards the teleport circle.

--

The big guard is by turns confused, impressed and skeptical of the blonde man's rhetorical flourishes. He is visibly relieved by the dwarf's brevity.

"Oh, right. Grandmother just finished her daily message about an hour ago. Best way to find her is to ask at the House. Of you think about it as you head through the gate, it'll lead you there. But really, you just turn left onto Dawn Road, an you can't miss it.

The guard nods and turns his attention to what seems to be a circus of Chaos Gnomes drawing up to the gate behind their wagon.

Sure enough, the pair pass through the gate with a confident assurance of the correct path to the House. A first left, second right, and they've arrived at a sprawling and ramshackle complex resembling a merchant outpost more than a soaring temple. There is a steady stream of wagons in and out at one entrance, and young women in obnoxious yellow tunics lead groups of earnest looking people around the outside. There is the sound of music from within, although Pelor's hymn to the setting sun is not typically performed by a trio of drunken flautists and a timpanist.

Inside, it would seem that an open air service for about 200 is in full swing. The guards at the entrance nod amiably to the pair, and direct them over to a stables around the side, where they can leave their wagon.

[white rider]

As Olaf approaches the ruins of Rauxes, he notices that the entire city is enclosed in a shimmering field of scintillating light. He can only see the faint outlines of buildings through it's interference.
ooc:

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do you have anything that lets you use see invisibility/ true seeing/arcane sight, etc.

[DrK]

Olaf and Sleipnir gently come to a hover above the shimmering field, Olaf's magically enhanced sight trying to gaze through.
"Hmm my friend. A strange thing to see. Maybe we should have come with a mage" he mutters in the rough cold tounge rubbing the horses shaggy mane.
He also casually drops a rock onto the field to see if it will pass through...

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He's got See invisibility but that's all.

[white rider]

As Olaf looks at the city, he notices something strange. He sees two cities, in the same place with all the same features, but they seem different. Than, he makes out a shape moving in one of the cities but not the other. It seems that the cities are in the same place, are indeed the same city, but are different somehow. As Olaf drops the rock, curious, the rock touches the field and hovers for a moment- before exploding in a small blast of fire.

[Kazyan]

“Question! Question! Hello, I have a—”

“Stop.” Korun slammed a book shut and sighed to himself. He pinched the rough skin over the bridge of his nose, and set down the book on the floor under the lever. His thigh shifted so as to be removed from the lever, allowing the magic to spring back into place with an unsubtle clack. “What. What could you possibly want this time? Aren’t you on duty?”

“Yes, buuu~uuut a lot of people are sleeping and I told you about the question, right?” The vibrant pixie clicked his boots together and adjusted his shirt.

“No. Ask. It’s about her, isn’t it?”

“Which ‘her’? There’s five hundred ‘hers’ in Cinnabar Site.”

While the overwatch giggled and waved his hands, Korun wished that he had a bit of cold iron with him. “You know perfectly well. Rafflesia. You can't just go around asking for personal appointments.”

“I'm doing it right now! When is she coming back?”

“In fact, she just recently returned to me.” Korun stroked his beard. “She seems to have spent most of her time in trance and daydream this past score of days. From how she answered my questions, the mental rest worked perfectly.” He smiled, recalling her relaxed face. Teasing that expression out of a gray, wrinkled undead meant good things, thought her pixie body helped with that, reflected outwardly with her glittery outfits. “She’s out right now.”

“Where?”

“Lake Spendlowe. I can only assume that she’s attacking an entire ecosystem today, or needs a place to be serene.”

“Awww, she’s going to get rid of all the fishes…”

“You can’t exactly argue with her.”

“And—”

“You know what? A bedroom. Take me to a bedroom, overwatch. You can talk to her when she comes back from whatever unfathomable machinations are happening.”

---

Rafflesia really wanted to go for a swim.

But with all of these fish, insects, and vaguely green plant-sludges in the water? Absolutely not. Cinnabar Site didn’t have a large enough space in it to make her own body of water, so she would just have to clear out part of this one. Normally, the chant drained her mentally, as would any task that required one to maintain focus for such a great time, let alone one in which it was mandated to hold open the flow of arcane deep within her to acquire the next words in sequence, each giving her but a fraction of a second to learn the next. In short, awful. Investing that time, however, yielded the sweetest reward. And after her downtime, however brief it may have been, her mind sharpened enough for this event’s demands to feel manageable.

“… kuin laethe braoen oceanus, ach armon generum an vocativ jopa chro, sill ghealach ascataves. Numeri nomen omia lopettanut mo maritimus, opacare, matutinus, septentrio kuten hin beo, an declinantur psyst. Per mys teoksiaan, singularis masculini mo generis …”

The hideous sun glared off the petrified wood face of her arcane sculpture. Nearby, a delicate rabbit hopped towards the developing black veil surrounding Rafflesia. Its tiny nose sniffed at the evaporating powdered alloy.

“…Halolo mriv NIMSALAEN io…” she continued with a shout, and the filthy animal darted away, frightened.

She made a mental note to find that vermin’s corpse afterward. The cylinder of blackness developed further around her, from the ground to the obnoxious color of the sky.

[DrK]

As Olaf looks at the city, he notices something strange. He sees two cities, in the same place with all the same features, but they seem different. Than, he makes out a shape moving in one of the cities but not the other. It seems that the cities are in the same place, are indeed the same city, but are different somehow. As Olaf drops the rock, curious, the rock touches the field and hovers for a moment- before exploding in a small blast of fire.

Olaf continued to stare through the field trying to see if he could make out the shape beneath. As he does so he'll gently ride Sleipnir back to the edge of the city's Western edge and patrol the forests and plains there lest any fiedn dare try and escape the field and harass the land of Chathold....

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He'll just hang around the Western edge of the dome until he either sees a potential victim or Alla + friends arrive and explain to him how to breach the field...

[white rider]

looking down at the city, Olaf makes out the strange overlapping buildings.
what you can see:

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Map of Rauxes
as the map, but most of the buildings are destroyed.

as Olaf wings away from the city, he sees a wide barren wasteland, devoid of life. make a spot check.

[DrK]

Winging across the desolation Olaf leans forward to the horse whispering some encouragment before continuing to scan the area looking for something to slake his thirst for blood...

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Ah, perception! The weak point of Olaf!
(1d20+8)[21]
- and the horse (1d20+15)[19]

[white rider]

Aah, good enough.
looking down at the city, Olaf sees a shimmering in a small patch of the field.

[DrK]

Looking down at the shimmering patch Olaf heels the great flying beast towards it. Slept resting above it he'll drop another stone, and its pews explosive than last time dive through on Sleipnir. Come boy. Let us explore thus den of fiends. I yearn for blood!.

Slipping the stance of alacrity and the charge he will draw sword and spear, lips drawn in anticipation of violence...

[white rider]

As Olaf flies down, he sees a large figure with wings, a sword, and a whip, standing next to two six-armed creatures with the bodies of serpents. They turn and look at Olaf as the shimmering of the field stops.

[DrK]

Olaf howls a savage battlecry as he spurs the Sleipnir into a full gallop, balancing on the massive broad back of the horse he howled again a delicate balance of white raven battlecries and diamond mind focus in stance.

The shout spurred both him and the horse on as they unleashed the highest order of the White Raven slamming into the gap between the winged and flaming beast and one of the snake ladies. As he neared he started the death spiral of the twin weapons initiating the feared Girallion whirlwind death rend...

"KISS MY BLADE DEMONSPAWN!"...

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Glad that this is PbP. This may take a while to work out
(They are flat footed right as its the first round of combat).
Currently in Stance of Alacrity/ Leading the Charge
(Currently +2 Saves from Defensive stance)

Charge at the gap between Balor and Marillith 1 to nail 'em both- auto do the DC10 jump check for the leap attack to multiply power damage by 2.

Swift: Initiate Boost Girallion Whirlwind deathrend
Full: Initiate Warmaster's Charge - Power attack for 10 (so +20)
(+50 damage on charge, no AoO's, if me and horse both hit Balor then its stunned) (+9 for strike, +8 for flat footed, +24 for stance)
--> Spirited Charge doubles the damage!

Sword Hand: +43/43/38/33/
Attack Balor (1d20+43)[59] damage (2d6+139)[147] x2 +(2d6)[6]
Attack Balor (1d20+43)[62] damage (2d6+139)[143] x2 +(2d6)[4]

Attack Marrilith (1d20+38)[49] damage (2d6+139)[145] x2 +(2d6)[5]
Attack Marillith (1d20+27)[34] damage (2d6+139)[151] x2 +(2d6)[5]
Spear Hand: Vs Marillith (1d20+39)[54] (1d8+142)[147] x2

Deathrend on Balor: 2 hits= (8d6)[26] extra
Deathrend on Marrilith: 2 hits = (8d6)[30] extra

Sleipnir: Attack Balor (1d20+32)[43] damage (3d6+79)[89]
--> If threat Attack (1d20+32)[35] dam (3d6+79)[91]

In Robilars' Gambit so on their turn they get +4 hit and damage, but for each attack I get an AoO against them...

First attack from Balor, or if he doesn't attack then Mariilith then do Fool's Strike counter attack (1d20+51)[63] against his attack roll, if I win they hit themselves instead of me
-If I use the counter then I'll change the Leading the Charge Stance into Supreme Blade Parry (DR 5/-)

Assuming all attacks hit: Balor takes 842 damage - 4x DR
Assuming all attack hits: Marrilith takes 916 damage - 4xDR

[white rider]

attacks of opportunity:

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balor: attack: (1d20+33)[40] damage: (2d6+13)[21]
marlith: attack: (1d20+25)[39] damage: (2d6+9)[19]

Olaf leaps from his horse, jumping a full 15 feet into the air. Plunging to the ground he twists, spearing one marlith. Holding onto the spear, five feet above the ground, he hacks and slashes, slicing off the marliths arms and plunging his sword into it's body before back-flipping to the ground and eviscerating the balor and subsequently decapitating it in the same motion. The balor's eyes show shock for just a second before it is consumed in a massive explosion.

As the balor self-destructs, Olaf twists and jumps behind the dead marlith, avoiding the blast entirely, but Sleipnir is unable to completely evade (50 damage)

the last marlith tries to turn away, but takes the full force of the blast.

[white rider]

The last marlith hisses and concentrates, and a wall of spinning blades springs into existence. behind the blade barrier, the marlith slithers away. (60 feet away from Olaf when his turn starts)

edit: the blades surround Olaf.

[Togo]

You know, Baldan, this is a pretty impressive place.

They wander out of the stables, where they have left the laden cart in a nook that they hope will remain undisturbed.

Yes.

Lots of people, safe, happy.

Baldan says nothing.

Singing songs. Praising Pelor...

Canarius trails off invitingly

Baldan again says nothing. More loudly this time. They watch one of the young ladies in yellow darting across to a faltering wagon, the energy in her step, the pride in her purpose.

Canarius raises an eyebrow.

Baldan breathes deeply. Let's talk to her nibbs first. It's... it's not impossible, all right?

Canarius grins. So where do we find her? Try the big building? I'd suggest not going to go find her yourself. Or would you rather make a fuss?

People are having fun, let's not risk spoiling it. His eyes flick over the crowd, looking for status or rank. Ask a tunic girl?

It would be my pleasure!

Baldan makes are if to take back his hasty words, but quickly subsides. Canarius strides over to the nearest yellow-tuniced lady and gives a great bow, with all the flourishes.

Fair flower, shining clear in the gathering light, I bessech you grant me a boon before the everolling stream of fate gathers this the time of our meeting to it's breast, and carries all our hopes away. I am Canarius, and this Baldan, and we seek that pillar of rectitude, the chatellaine of Pelor herself, the Wise Lady Alla, that we might improve ourselves by her presence and guidance and bestow upon her what meagre fruits our company might bear, for the greater glory of he who sent us, the Lord Majesterial of the Basalt Throne.

We're here to see Lady Alla. says Baldan, following up behind. Is she in?

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Canarius Charisma check (1d20+12)[27]

[Toliudar]

The young woman - of sturdy Oeridian stock, curly brown hair - is briefly startled and then significantly and obviously smitten with Canarius as he speaks. She immediately ignores the group of twenty visitors who she seems to be leading around, and focuses entirely on him. Baldan's comment barely penetrates.

"Lady? Oh, Granny! Oh, I, um, I don't know if she's, um, who'd know that? You could ask one of the priests, or the guards might know. She was somewhere in town about an hour ago, cause that's when her message came. But if you'd like a tour of the grounds, maybe, a private tour later? Um. I'm Santiava."

A few more conversations up the food chain of a burgeoning and the-kinks-aren't-all-worked-out-yet bureaucracy later, and Baldan and Canarius find themselves in waiting room outside of an office, where a pair of rather officious and harried clerks are trying to record the desires of a dozen distressed petitioners. They are there only a moment when an older woman bursts through the doors, dressed in simple grey robes and with a slender wooden staff tapping rapidly along with her step. There is a brief ripple, and the petitioners begin to stand. She looks immediately at the older of the two clerks and barks out sharply.

"Right, Carmel, I've got ten, maybe fifteen minutes, so if you could prioritize YEEEPERS!"

She had begun glancing around the room, and her gaze landed on Baldan and Canarius. She zips over to look at the two men. Several of her long grey hairs have escaped from the bun at the back, and there is the distinct impression of 'it's been a long day' about her.

"Well, you two don't look like you need alms, and you seem healthy enough. So...what can I do for you?"

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In case the gentlemen have magic detection abilities: there are a variety of magical auras on her, predominantly abjuration and transmutation. There is a simple disguise self effect, although true seeing would confirm that right now the only difference between what she looks like and reality is the concealment of a rather nasty tear to the hem of her robe.

Alla currently has no special sensory effects active, but has just manifested Hypercognition, and assume a sense motive check of [roll]1d20+52[roll] and a spot check of (1d20+49)[50]. What would she discern about Baldan and Canarius?

[DrK]

Olaf glances at the mass of spinning chaos hewn blades then looks down at Sleipnir seeing the blood and broken flesh. "Stay my friend, be safe" he murmurs as he dives forward into the shadow of the spinning blades, leaping out of the Marillith's own shadow stunning the beast.

Tumbling and rolling up to the beast evading the 6 spinning blades as he vaults up and over the towering monster's head the blade and spear clashing together as they slam into its chest as he corkscrews around in a vicious corkscrew to rip its upper half away from its lower half...

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Swift: Shadowblink 50ft
Move: DC 40 Tumble to 10ft step (1d20+38)[47]
Full round attack: Feral Death Blow
Jump Vs Marillith AC: (1d20+41)[59] (including +16 bonus for speed)
Attack Roll Power attack for 20 (1d20+33)[37]
--> If jump and attack hit then Considered flat footed & Fort DC 37 or die
--> If pass save then (2d6+55)[66]+(20d6)[62]+(2d6)[8]

If she attempts to move away then Mirrored Pursuit counter to move after her (I move 70ft- Fly 150ft) - she can't SPA defensively as I have Mageslayer.

Try and trap me now snake demon!