Death's End IC II

[Sen isSaqqara]

"A good idea," replies Lirian, barely able to tear her eyes away from the great tree. The majesty of the ancient site is... humbling. "The sooner we can do so the better. I have much to tell, and moreover, there is much I want you to tell me. But it can wait a little longer: there's no sense in being rude to the guardians of a safe place."

Safe? Ha. You know as well as I that your first thought upon hearing this place proclaimed safe was that we would be helping defend it from unprecidented attack within a few days.
Heh. You're right, as always. Perhaps I've been reading too many bad adventure novels.
Hardly. When was the last time you had a good book to read, anyways? No, such paranoia is simply good practice. I approve.
Well in that case I must be doing something wrong.
Very funny. Now focus! We have elves to impress.

[esorscher]

Arran fills in Ben on the situation unfolding. "Two of the Six have cornered the contestants in an alleyway, but they haven't started fighting, yet. My understanding is the city is on lockdown, and martial laws been declared. Fancy a bit of looting?" He jokes, then gives Ben directions to his location.

[Ajadea]

Calia raises an eyebrow, easy smile barely faltering at all upon Maniakh's mention of the deal. "Never met either of them before now, actually. I simply believe it is wise to be on good terms with one's future allies." There. She'd said it. The words seem to hang in the air. She wonders what the rest of her current allies will think of her now. She should explain to them. Everything. All of this. It's probably safe enough to do so, even. "Unfortunately, there are five tests, and, alas, I have no such conveniently obedient traveling companions to aid me through them." Watching the shadows move makes her stomach roil. The air feels colder just because of their presence. And she doesn't trust them not to strike. Not yet.

Spoiler

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From here and all subsequent rounds, just assume Calia's keeping an Entangling Exhalation readied.

[PersonMan]

Elara stays silent - on one hand, she wants to attack, to force the confrontation that could end with two of the five Six dead. On the other, doing so carried great risk as well; fighting two of the Six, backed up by undead shades would be far more difficult than taking down one through overwhelming force. On top of that, the mage's natural aversion to combat of any sort was pulling her away from the idea of battle, urging her to let the encounter stay peaceful. She didn't want to fight, didn't want to kill. She'd never wanted to, and until now she'd been able to avoid killing anyone at all. But now she was suddenly set before an opportunity to do what she knew was necessary. The Six wouldn't be stopped with a tense conversation in a dusty alley near the forges of Onyx; their murderous operations would continue until they were stopped for good. Wiping them out was the only option - killing one or two would just result in more death as they go to other cities to recruit more members. So Elara stands still, hands ready to work the arcane movements that would bring arcane energy flowing through her, entire body tense, relaxing bit by bit as the mage consciously loosen her muscles.

Then Maniakh mentions a deal with Calia. Curious, Elara turns her gaze to her, briefly, before moving it back to the necromancer and his undead slaves. If this was some sort of bluff, then it might be followed by an attack - as much as she wanted to believe the man didn't want to fight, there was no point in trusting any of the Six. The way they went about things made it clear that they had no scruples; a murderer would have no issues lying in preparation of an attack. So, until the woman responds to his reference, Elara thinks nothing of it.

"...one's future allies."

The words Calia speaks after these seem to fade; Elara's gaze is focused entirely on the woman as she processes what this means. There isn't much to think of, after a brief moment of shock her mind works out the obvious meaning of the tall woman's words. The mage feels betrayed, yet again, and the same feeling of anger follows it as it had the night and morning before - anger at herself, for assuming that those who seemed to be her allies actually were. The kind people she had met, again and again, on the roads weren't the same sort of people she could expect to meet here, it seemed. Despite there being plenty of kind people in the city as well, the vagabond seemed to have a talent for trusting those who couldn't be trusted. Myr could still be an ally, but Calia? How could she aid them if she planned to join the Six herself? Was the woman the kind of heartless murderess that would join the group for the wealth and power they advertised? Elara doubts, for a moment. No one so beautiful could have a complete and utter lack of respect for the true virtues of the world...could she?

"It seems there has been a misunderstanding between us," Elara finally says, voice heavy with a mixture of regret and disappointment. "I mistook you for someone sane, who valued the important things in this world. But it seems I was mistaken," she speaks slowly, green eyes on Calia the entire time.

"Unless there was anything true about what you said before. About it paining you to see your home like this. But I doubt your future allies would like that, would they? After all, a mass murderer with a conscience is a bit of a problematic combination," the mage adds, crossing her arms, eyes gone hard.

[3SecondCultist]

Arran, Calia, Elara, Myr: "She's got a point, you know. I mean, we may operate by codes of conduct and all, but 'mass murdering' is pretty much my favorite hobby. I've gotta say, I don't even think Oberon expected you to be so eager... Calia, was it? I wish ears over here had as much of a spine as you did. You know, there was a time when I would've - " Malthus steps forward, placing his hand heavily on his companion's shoulder and stopping him dead in his tracks. For the first time, the necromancer's features display something remotely like surprise. Turning to Malthus, he begins to speak and stops suddenly when he sees the look in the changeling's shifting eyes.

"You talk too much." Malthus does not offer any kind of emotion to back up his quiet rebuke. He has neither the time nor the capacity for such abstractions. He walks out in front of Maniakh, still behind the first rank of shadows. You don't get the impression that they seem to bother him in the slightest. Up a bit closer, you can see that the changeling's features are already moving, elongating into a slender, more narrow face with eyes of charcoal. When he speaks now, it is not his voice you hear, but those of Annas. Somehow, he is able to change even his vocal chords to make eerie mockeries.

"This is a message for Elara Enhall."

"By the time you are listening to this, my companions will have caught up with you. They are here to deliver the instructions of the first test. My terms are quite simple: there is a woman, living somewhere in Onyx. Her name is Sylvia Inkweaver, a former professor of abjuration at di Kerastin Academy. As of earlier this morning, she has gone into hiding, and was last seen entering the elven district of Arborgate. Your task is to find her and kill her, before your time runs out."

"You should also know the full stakes of your test. Since our last encounter, I have gone to lengths in order to obtain Merrelis' body. Should you succeed, Maniakh will be able to resurrect her for you. She may not be exactly as she was, but she will rejoin the living and the both of you will have a semblance of peace. You will be free from all of this, free from the Six for as long as I am a member. That, I can promise you."

"Relay your reply through Malthus when you are ready."


Lirian: Quen'this leads the two of you over a knotted bridge and onto the banks of the island that houses the Worldpine. Up so close, you can barely believe that it is real - even if you have seen its like once before. As you approach, you can see warm lights emanating from a hall that appears to have been grown from the very roots of the tree. Another squadron of archers stand ready, and a pair of large stone statues seem to watch the river. At least, they look like statues until one of them moves. You can hear a low grinding noise as its 'head' turns to face you. Its empty eyes stare into yours for what seems like a lifetime. But soon enough, it returns to its eternal task of watching. Sylvia bows her head slightly as she approaches.

Within, you find yourself at the bottom of a great hall that is impossibly large. At the very least, such a structure should not be able to fit here, at the bottom of the Worldpine. And yet you can see no inconsistencies with the outside world.

"The magic of the elves is subtle. Unless they point it out, there is a good chance of it going unseen." Sylvia nods to a group of figures all seated around a table of heartwood. Some of them appear old, most of them are robed in simple finery, and all of them are of elven descent. At the head of the table, one such sage seems to command the attention of the rest. He wears his authority like a familiar cloak, and his smile is both warm and welcoming. He has yet to formally acknowledge you yet, however.

"Lida inorum saenes, uthmus Sylvia. What brings you back to our halls at this hour? Our eyes and ears throughout Onyx have returned with ill tidings of late."

"Lida inorum saenes, throvar Panadil. I have come seeking protection, but I will offer what information I can during my stay. The city has been flung into turmoil. I have barely escaped with my life, with the help of my companion. Throvar, this is Lirian Isepat, one of the native catfolk of Valeria. Lirian, you have the honor of addressing Panadil Isidar, one of the last great lorekeepers of this age. He is the archdruid of the Arborgate Worldpine, and you will accord him with the highest respect."

[Ajadea]

Professor Inkweaver. Calia fights off the urge to flinch, sinking deeper into the persona she has woven for herself. Calia the heartless, all smiles and nothing underneath but the void, with the sort of fearlessness that is only born from utter arrogance and certainty in one's goals. The sort of person who saw the opportunity to join the Six from Shadow and smiled. She isn't sure who Merrelis is, but she recognizes incentive when she hears it. What you want, in exchange for playing their game.

It's more important to charm Maniakh and Malthus, work their guard down inch by inch, than win the trust of these strangers, no matter how much the accusation hurts. The Six are prideful, condescending, friendly only as long as you remain on their side, and so that is what she must be. "There's more to the world than one city, no matter how nice it is," she replies to Elara, which is true enough. Oberon knows enough about her goals that hiding here achieves nothing. "And besides, we've only just met. Isn't it a little soon to be insulting my mental health?" Calia allows a smirk to play across her face. Maybe the mask she wears is a mad one. It would certainly fit very well with the rest of the Six. She hopes Elara would choose not to take them up on it. It would spare her the trouble of killing a nice woman, and eliminate one candidate neatly. If the other tests were like this, perhaps she need not kill these people after all, only survive long enough and surpass her own trial. That was a relief. All bravado aside, none of these four candidates had done anything worse than catch the attention of a psychopath, and she'd rather not kill them if she didn't have to.

[Sen isSaqqara]

"Of course. It is a great honour, Panadil Isidar. I hope I can be of some use during my stay here." Lirian speaks clearly, but with a quiet and reserved tone destinct from her usual rapid-fire chatter. "Unfortunately, that stay may be rather short. I find myself a member of the Valerian Adventurer's Guild, and as such I may need to assist my companions through whatever perils have arisen. I would not want to bring any trouble here with me."

[Togo]

Myr's jaw drops.

My goodness! He exclaims. Never without some kind of steel in hand? It's like you...

His hand drops to his side with a metallic clan, and his astonishment with it. He carries on in a mild tone.

...saw me once on a street corner and wanted to make something up. Seriously? That's your big insight? That I carry a sword?

He's about to say more, but Callia's announcement stops him cold. For a long moment he just stares at her, while Elara's reply washes over him.

Slowly, he shakes his head.

I can't stop you making poor choices. He says at last. But I can be here for the others should you turn on them, and for you, if you change your mind.

He turns back to Malthus and Maniakh.

Mathlus, you're clearly in charge here. Why me? And... his voice takes on a slightly peevish tone ...why does only Callia get offered a deal?

[PersonMan]

"...Tell Annas that I trust her to keep a promise as much as I trust my shoes to fit a giant," Elara says after a few moments, her gut twisting again. This time it wasn't the memory of Merrelis' death, but thoughts of the future, that brought the horrid feeling to her. Despite the insanity of Annas, the cruelty of her means and, it dawns upon Elara, the twisted sense within her plans, Annas had done one thing properly. She'd given Merrelis a swift, painless death. Could Elara guarantee anything of the sort if the heterochromic beauty returned? Maniakh was a vile necromancer whose chosen form of 'resurrection' surely included reanimation with foul magics; although the thought of leaving her friend's body in the hands of these people pains Elara, she sees no way of ensuring the merchant daughter's safety, dead or alive. Apart from her current plan, of course.

A tortured existence as a foul undead mockery of her former self, an awakening in a hellish pit of massacre - even if Annas wasn't lying, how would Elara be able to be sure that these weren't what awaited Merrelis after her return to life? An answer comes to the mage suddenly. It was clear - she would have to spare one of the Six, at least for a time. If Maniakh believed her to be trustworthy, she could potentially pressure him into a proper resurrection, if he could perform one, with threats. The thoughts don't sit well with her, but nothing has the past day. Murder, threats, torture, killing...it was as if everything she hated had been pooled in a single pot and herself thrown in.

"You chose me for this, by killing her. You have no reason, you have nothing resembling a right. I will not allow you to spread pain and suffering, to destroy the beauty of the world any more. The Tiernans don't need your help with that," Elara continues, anger absent from her voice. "I wish it wasn't necessary, but the only way this can end is in further carnage."

[esorscher]

Arran listens to the conversation unfolding in the alleyway as best he can. He fingers his bowstring as he waits for a signal from Calia that battle is to be joined. If he is surprised by her apparent allegiance, he shows no sign, trusting his friend with whom he has battled to no limit. If she is truthful about her allegiance, he would side with her over the newcomers, if only because the devil he knows is preferably to the devil he doesn't. He looks around to see if anyone else is coming toward the alleyway, either obvious members of the Six, guards, or Ben.

[3SecondCultist]

Arran, Calia, Elara, Myr: Neither member of the Six seems entirely surprised, and yet they share a quick glance, the immediate significance of which escapes you. Maniakh steps forward again. His shadows follow, and although they don't appear to be trying to engage you, they seem more menacing now. You can almost make out silhouettes, images of lives long forgotten.

"If carnage is the way you want to go, so be it. To be honest, I was just stalling to see if your companion had the smarts to retreat while he still could. Guess not." He turns for a moment to directly face the shadows where Arran is hidden. "You can come out now! My friends saw you a little while ago. I'm quite curious to find out what a 'do-gooder' like yourself is doing following this lot around. They're dangerous, don't you know!" He begins to laugh again. As though anticipating their master's command, the shadows split off into teams of two. The first team moves towards the candidates, while the second advances up the side alley towards the lone fighter.

"I suppose our meeting like this was only going to end one way, wasn't it? You could say it was inevitable. I really am sorry. Oberon says that we're not allowed to kill you. I can still rough you up some, though." From a pouch on his belt, Maniakh produces a vial of water and pours it on the ground around him, followed quickly by a handful of silvered powders. Suddenly, the ground beneath the necromancer's feet darkens, as it is suffused by negative energy. His movements also seem to allow for another bonding ritual of sorts, as two more undead appear around his robed frame. These are no mere shadows, however. They wear the outlines of armor, and they float a few inches off the ground. They are malevolence made form.

Malthus, on the other hand, seems to be focusing his magic inwards. You can almost touch the edges of his crystallized transformation as his skin beings to split at the seams, revealing red underneath. And he grows. His shoulders are shrugged off for a thin - almost skeletal - carapace that is nearly seven feet tall. The soft white skin of the changeling has been discarded in favor of a hard, crimson exterior that looks almost pebbly. Two small horns appear atop his head, which would look slightly foolish on any other figure but actually manage to add a touch of the surreal to this abyssal tableau. A pair of molten demonic eyes stare back at you balefully, as if seeing who will blink first.

Spoiler

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Alright, so a few things are happening here. First of all, the Six are now initiating combat. They have also noticed Arran, both through their own respective rolls and listening to you guys talk about him. Esorscher, since we're using group initiative, you will act in the same turn as everyone else on your 'team'. I will figure out the Roll20 when I am able (most likely Sunday), but until then, these things are happening:

- Maniakh is sending forward his shadows to attack you (2 for the candidates, and 2 towards Arran), provoking the readied Entangling Exhalation from Calia.
- He is also spending a rebuke attempt to quicken a desecrate spell in a 20 ft radius.
- Finally, Maniakh is using his standard action to summon 2 wraiths into the desecrated area.
- Malthus is casting draconic polymorph this round to turn into an augmented protean scourge.

In the same vein, I need to make sure I have the map in order to double check things. However, I can make the first round of attacks for the shadows now (the potential penalties for being entangled will change the results later). The first attack is against Myr, and the second is against Calia. Each attack is an incorporeal touch attack, and they all do Strength damage.

Shadow Attack 1:
(1d20+5)[20]
(1d6+2)[6]

Shadow Attack 2:
(1d20+5)[22]
(1d6+2)[7]

Ben: Your trek across the rain-soaked streets of Onyx has been greatly aided by Arran buzzing in your ear whenever you needed directions. For the most part, you get the sense that you are following the route of your friends exactly as they walked. You find yourself sticking to side streets and alleys more often than not, which are perfectly suited to your methods. You don't see many people on your way up to Forger's Row: for the most part, those you do see are afraid to meet your eyes. This city is afraid, down to its very bones. Something had done marvellous job of terrorizing it. And as you begin to see the posters and read about those called 'the Six', you begin to put the pieces together.

After some time, you finally round a corner and catch sight of the old city wall that you passed last night. It seems that you have reached the edge of Old Town already. Up ahead, you can hear voices from one of the nearby alleyways. Your natural stealth and intuition serve you well, as you make your way through the darkness until you see Arran, preparing to fight off a pair of undead shadows like the one up in Valeria.

Spoiler

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So I've given you enough space to activate the collar if you so desire before you start to interact, which will likely help with stealth rolls and all of that. I leave those up to you, but you probably don't want either Maniakh or Malthus seeing you if at all possible. Arran stuck too close to the party, and blew one of the major elements of surprise you guys had in this plot arc. Do what you will now.

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[PersonMan]

"You're mistaken if you think I want bloodshed," Elara says in reply to Maniakh's explanation of his intent to attack, calming herself for a moment before her hands begin to move, completing one complex gesture after the other as her voice chants syllables of supernatural meaning. Arcane power fills her, building up in her body as the mage begins the set of symbols and motions that will cause it to extend outwards, upwards, a beacon of power sent into the heavens.

Spoiler: Actions

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Gonna make some Know-it-all checks:
Know (Not Religion/Arcana): (1d20+6)[11] (Malthus' new form)
Spellcraft: (1d20+15)[29] (Maniakh's summoning spell)
Spellcraft: (1d20+15)[19] (Harm the other spell)

Casting Summon Monster III for a Celestial Bison. Should I pick a spot for it to appear now, or will that wait until Elara's finished casting?

[gallagher]

Memories of the shadows come flooding back to Ben, but as he best recalls they were not that difficult to handle then. Are they the same kind as before? They look alike, act alike... If only he still had a daylight pellet he could figure out for certain... But no, Arran is quite the fighter, he is likely to be in less danger than the others. I'll look at the other's first to make sure, and help where I am needed most.

Upon hearing Calia's breath weapon, Ben becomes certain that the main fighting is around the bend. His instincts have him reach into the shadows, until his skin feels as if it is becoming umbral in its own right. After activating his collar, what feels like a quick skip, he finds himself keeping to the shadows of the walls as he flies to the top to get a better look. A vantage point will be quite useful, most folk seldom find the time to look up in the dark and the rain.

Spoiler

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Ok, so standard action was the collar, swift is animal devotion, and under the rules of animal devotion I can move 45 feet with a single move action, is that further augmented another 10 feet from my collar? Regardless, that should be enough to get me to a good vantage point

Hide: (1d20+28)[42]
Move Silently: (1d20+15)[34]
Listen: (1d20+5)[13]
Spot: (1d20+4)[12]
Knowledge(rel): (1d20+11)[13]

HiPS is now active, I have cold resistance 10, supreme lowlight vision, and my darkvision is increased by 60 feet.

[Ajadea]

Calia snarls as she unleashes a torrent of acid upon the approaching shadows. She straightens up and wipes her mouth. "This could only go one way," she says with a smirk, still thoroughly immersed in the mask she had made for herself. "You really thought I didn't know that?"

A chill washes over her as the shadow's fingers graze her skin, sapping her strength so much she can barely stand. She steps back, drawing her sword, and shucking her too-heavy shield onto the ground. A shield would be useless against these enemies and she needed a free hand anyways. She flicks her fingers, drawing the magic, the fire, into herself. Then she begins to speak, and as she does, the weapons of every candidate and Arran burst into vivid flame. She didn't need to trust them, just trust they didn't want to be murdered by shadows. "You underestimate the strength of Valeria. And that will be your downfall," she says, keeping her voice steady even though she wants to buckle. She would kill these things. She could survive.

Spoiler

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Alright, let's do this:
EDIT: Entangling Exhalation deals all entangled shadows 2 damage (see OOC for rolls)

Breath Weapon Recharge: (1d4)[3]
Move Action: back up 10 feet and towards the wall on the right side of the alley.
Free Action: Drop shield. Doesn't help, and it's 8.5 pounds I don't want to deal with right now.
Swift Action: Inspirational Boost. +1 to Inspire Courage
Standard Action: Dragonfire Inspiration: Everyone adds 2d6 fire damage to a successful weapon attack.

[esorscher]

It's the arrows, not the bow, which are imbued by Calia's flames. Nevertheless, Arran fires three of them at the nearest shadow. Part of him wishes to correct his mistaken identification as a "do-gooder," but he says nothing to the Six, if only to shroud himself in an aura of mystery. Let them mistake his intentions as noble, and perhaps he could take advantage of their mistake. The Six attacked him, first, after all. It may be unscrupulous to take advantage of this martial law situation, but I sure could use some magical protection against these shadows. I wonder if there's a magic shop somewhere in this city where I could procure such. He thinks as the arrows fly toward their destination. He recalls the daylight pellets they've previously used as something to seek out, once this is resolved.

As the first arrow ignites the shadow, immolating it completely, Arran moves back 30', further out of the range of the other shadow.

Spoiler

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Attack, inspire courage (+1 atk), rapid shot (-2 atk), point blank range (+1 atk, dmg). Magic weapons vs. Incorporeal, so 50% miss chance for each attack. I'll roll, but if that's not chill, you can roll them as well. Low is miss.

Move 30' back such that Arran is the maximum distance from where the second shadow attacking him ended up.

Attack 1: (1d20+13)[19], (1d6+6)[12]+(2d6)[9], Miss Chance (1d2)[2]
Attack 2: (1d20+13)[15], (1d6+6)[9]+(2d6)[8], Miss Chance (1d2)[2]
Attack 3: (1d20+8)[14], (1d6+6)[12]+(2d6)[6], Miss Chance (1d2)[1]

[3SecondCultist]

Arran, Ben, Calia, Elara, Myr: "Stay back! We can harm these things if we're careful enough." Myr's words ring across the glistening stones as the warrior takes a step back, guisarme still in hand. Although his own reserves have been sapped by the monster he faces, he manages to swing his weapon quickly and recover in time to prepare for a counter-attack. Fortunately, that attack will never come, as his second swing cuts through his enemy's ghostly visage, leaving only dragonfire behind. The other shadows clearly notice the threat, as they hover slightly out of range before setting up for another attack.

The warrior's victory is only slightly spoiled by Ala'thea's own transformation. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her own shape begin to disappear, her gear melding into her body as she grows in size. Hands become deadly paws, her smooth skin becomes fur, and her slender face becomes an ursine snout. In a matter of moments, what was once an elf has become a sizable brown bear. She roars in the direction of the Six, a kind of promise of destruction to come.

Malthus' reply is immediate.

Extending one arm, the polymorphed mage hurls a bolt of charged lightning as if it were nothing. The spell illuminates the alley, soaring right over Calia to crash directly into the druid's face. Ala'thea roars again, although this time it is driven by pain. She stumbles - as though about to collapse completely - and yet manages to stay on her feet.

"Oooh snap! Nice shot, Malthus. I love the smell of scorched bear, you know. It reminds me of home." The robed man raises his voice slightly so that Calia can hear, even as his hands prepare a new spell. After a few lingering moments, he has completed another calling. You can tell immediately that this new creation is corporeal. Its wide frame seems to mark it out as one of the great reptiles, a cousin of the extinct dragons. But whatever grandeur its visage once held is now lost - its empty eye sockets and rotted wings now stand as a mockery of its former glory. Maniakh does like his jokes.

Your eyes are also attracted to movement along the rooftops. The two incorporeal wraiths fly through the cloudy afternoon air, soaring around the battlefield as they prepare to flank you. As they stare down at you, their umbral eyes are filled with foreboding.

"At least you're putting up a fight! I'm glad to know that we have such resilient toys to play with."

Spoiler: Actions

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Okay, here we go!

First of all, Myr took a 5-ft step back and full attacked the shadow with his guisarme, using Combat Expertise to take an additional -4 penalty on his rolls for a touch AC of 13 for the next round. On top of that, he gets to roll an AoO against the shadow when it tries to approach him again. He also used his swift action to activate his minor and major auras - Activate Dexterity and Motivate Attack, for a +5 to all Dex related things and a +1 to attack rolls (which I already factored in).

Next, Ala'thea used Wild Shape to become a bear. Nothing special here, moving right along.

Bam! A lightning bolt spell to the face. Ala'thea failed her Reflex save, so she takes the full (10d6)[40] damage from Malthus' spell.

Then Maniakh spent another rebuke attempt in order to quicken a summon undead IV spell, on top of his usual summoning ability. So there's a zombie wyvern as well as another quartet of shadows here.

Finally, we have the actual movement/attack actions of Maniakh's previous summons.

Myr AoO: (1d20+7)[10]
Myr Miss Chance: (1d100)[43]
Myr Damage: (2d4+7)[12] and (2d6)[9] from DFI
Myr Crit Confirm: (1d20+7)[12]:

Now, in the case of failure on Myr's part, the shadow is going to make its attack.

Shadow Attack 1: (1d20+1)[19]
Shadow Damage 1: (1d6+2)[7]

And the second shadow is going to try and attack the celestial bison that Elara summoned!

Shadow Attack 1: (1d20+1)[21]
Shadow Damage 1: (1d6+2)[8]

The shadow that Arran didn't attack is looping back to approach the candidates, leaving the fighter alone, and the wraiths are both on the roofs, getting in position to make their own strikes next turn.

Lirian: Several of the elves seated at the table stir at the mention of trouble coming to Arborgate. Evidently, the concept had not yet occurred to them. Isidar seems unfazed, though. He looks at Sylvia once, and it seems enough for him to make some sort of decision on his own.

"Thaira oth. Go now."

Without another word, the rest of the hall's occupants begin to file out. They don't even bother to glance your way even once on their way out, and you can hear furtive little conversations in elvish as they leave. Isidar simply sits in his oaken chair and waits for the last one to disappear, before waving his hand for the two of you to sit down. Sylvia takes the seat to his immediate left, leaving you to sit opposite her at the same end of the grand table. Isidar is the very image of fatherly concern, as his hand moves across the grains to rest near yours without ever touching.

"So, I have two travelers, both warning me of dangers that may affect this realm. As its chief ward, it is my responsibility to act on such threats. I would have you both tell me everything you know now. Leave nothing out, even if you think it inconsequential or pointless."

[Sen isSaqqara]

"I don't know much," replies Lirian, fighting to keep from rushing into a torrent of explanation, "After all, I'm here for somewhat selfish reasons. When I met with Sylvia this morning, she seemed convinced that somthing terrible was about to happen, and was rather resigned to whatever fate befell her. Now, I can't have anything bad happening to my favorite librarian, not to mention friend, so I pushed her to find somewhere safe where she could explain in full. Then there was some trouble starting in the streets as we made our way here, and I wound up following her to be sure she was alright. Honestly, I was not expecting to be here: I started today only wishing to find her so I could ask some more questions about some work I'm doing on this old book," She almost hesitates, trying to remember how much she's said to Sylvia about the fictional book's origins, and decides to add a bit more to the lie to flesh it out, "which we took off of some shapeshifter named Senn who we fought and killed on one of our adventures."
Best lace the lies with truth, she thinks to herself, It will make them easier to tell. And make that promise of secrecy easier to keep.
"So that's how I got here. And what I know." She looks to Sylvia.

[gallagher]

Ben looks down at the fight starting down below, and he was right to let Arran handle the shadows. Seeing what is beginning to unfold, it seems that he has arrived just in time to help. He flies above the scene, drawing his crossbow and pulling his mask down as he does, and when he gets within close range he shoots at the necropolitan. After he reaches deep to find another burst of speed, flies to the neighboring roof, and hides from view again.

Spoiler

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Used my travel devotion for the first time today,
Hide: (1d20+28)[48]
move silently: (1d20+15)[25]
this is the second round of 10 for my flight
Attack: (1d20+10)[27]
Damage: (1d3)[1] plus (3d6)[12] sneak attack
Knowledge(religion) for anything that might arise: (1d20+11)[25]

[Ajadea]

"Strike now! Do not hesitate!" Calia yells. The fire on her sword flares at her words. "Do not falter!" Remembering, dimly, another, similar encounter all that distance and all those days past, she grabs a pellet from her pocket, holding it close. There are more coming, and she only has two of these against eight. Hopefully that would not matter in the future. She reaches out with her free hand and knots her hand into thick, scorched fur, willing the beast beside her to strengthen, to rally, to heal. Forget playing, forget pretending. They needed to survive, to heal. She dodges around the side of the bear and against the wall, ready to climb.

Spoiler

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Entangling Exhalation damage - (1d6)[1]
Round 2/4
1 round of Recharge remaining
Swift Action: Switch to Vigor Aura - Fast Healing 2/round to 50% health
Standard action: Touch of Vitality on Ala'thea, heal 30 points
Move action: Get against the wall.

[esorscher]

Seeing the other shadow turn toward the contestants, Arran dashes forward, ducking behind the staircase once more. He notches another arrow, pulling back on the bowstring and waiting for either Malthus or Maniakh to attempt to cast another spell. The first of them to do so will receive a flaming arrow in the back, courtesy of the ranger.

Spoiler

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Moving forward 30', readying an attack against the first of the Six (Malthus or Maniakh) to cast a spell with the intention of interrupting their spellcasting.

Attack: (1d20+13)[21], (1d6+5)[7]+(2d6)[5]

[Togo]

Myr shakes glances quickly around, and then sees an opening. With a joyful whoop he charges the undead Wyvern, not attempting to strike it, but instead going trying slam into one of it's rotting legs, shoving it off balance.

Spoiler

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Change minor aura to 'arts of war'. Everyone now get +5 to bull rush, disarm and trip.
Power attack for 5 putting the penalty on AC with the heedless charge ability from shock trooper
Charge and bull rush the Wyvern. This provokes an attack of opportunity. (Myr's AC is 11)

Touch attack to hit
(1d20+12)[17]
Opposed strength check to push it back. Myr gets 1(str)+5(aura)+4(feat)+2(charging)+2(armband)
(1d20+14)[21] vs whatever the Wyvern gets (str bonus+ 4 for being large)
If I win, push it back 5ft into Mankiah and follow up. (if I win by more than 5 push it 10ft into Mankiah and follow up only 5ft. I can choose direction because of shock trooper). This means that both the zombie wyvern and Mankiah are squeezing.
This gives me a trip attack against both, with no chance of being tripped, due to shock trooper.
Touch attack to hit vs zombie (1d20+12)[18] and then a trip attack of (1d20+14)[16] vs the Wyverns str bonus +4 for being large.
Touch attack vs Mankiah (1d20+12)[14] and then a trip attack of (1d20+14)[21] vs Mankiah str bonus
If either fail the trip check, they are prone and Myr gets a free attack against them.
Attack against the zombie (1d20+13)[31] (his AC is 8 less, -4 due to being prone, -4 due to squeezing with malthus) for (d8+14)[20] slashing plus (2d6)[7] fire damage
Attack against Mankiah (1d20+13)[26] (his AC is 8 less, -4 due to being prone, -4 due to squeezing with the dragon) (d8+14)[20] slashing plus (2d6)[9] fire damage
In addition to the damage, each target is surrounded by a glowing aura identifying their location and can not go invisible for a round.

With a roar tries to upend the undead monstrocity, collapsing it on top of Mankiah, to leave them both prone in an untidy heap.

[3SecondCultist]

Arran, Ben, Calia, Elara, Myr: Maniakh surveys the alleyway, clearly content at the proceedings. He lets out a low chuckle, leans on his staff... and gasps aloud as Ben's arrow slips between his shoulder blades. The undead spellcaster whirls around to look for his attacker, a slew of archaic profanities streaming from his mouth as he does so.

"Son of a - that really hurt! Don't you have any manners, do-gooder? This is a private party, and I'm the one holding the invitations." For the second time, Maniakh raises his voice for effect. The effect is more than a little bit melodramatic. And yet, the pockets of rotted skin beneath his glassy eyes serve his intensity well. "I haven't felt a sting like that in a long while. You know, someone with your talents might have actually done well in the Six. Maybe I should have recruited you!" He opens his mouth to continue, but is cut off by Myr's charging yell. The armored man crashes into his newly summoned zombie minion with gusto, driving its decaying bulk right into him. Myr does not simply back off, but presses the advantage with a series of cuts with his guisarme to creator and creation alike. However, the wyvern manages to maintain its balance and Maniakh simply steps out of the way.

Meanwhile, Elara's own summons are completed and a great bison stands in the middle of the narrow street. Its fur is a shimmering silver, and it carries with in an unmistakeable aura of good. Maniakh makes a face, but is too busy recovering from his ordeal to make another comment right away. Malthus certainly takes notice though, his new visage slowly turning to take in the new arrival. It wastes no time, moving up to engage the oncoming shadows. Ala'thea - her injuries having been mostly removed - is not far behind, Calia's dragonfire still surrounding her great bear paws. Neither of them are quite successful at striking down Maniakh's foot soldiers, though. These shadows are proving quite evasive.

Elara is not finished though. Seeing the oncoming wraiths from above, the mage has already begin to cast her next spell. One deep breath and a moment of clarity later, five more Elaras appear around her. The images all stand parallel to one another, all blurring together as they weave in and out.

Without another word, both members of the Six open up their next salvo.

Malthus is first on the draw, drawing more arcane symbols in the air. From his hiding place, Arran takes his delayed shot, and yet it bounces off the changeling's hide harmlessly. You're not even sure if he noticed - he certainly does not turn around to investigate the shot. He is far too busy finishing off his spell: a ray of deadly green energy, the likes of which you have never seen before, springs from his hand to strike Elara's bison. The demonic figure smirks as the heavenly beast is reduced to little more than ash on a nonexistent wind. His eyes meet hers across the battlefield. They flicker and scorch endlessly. Malthus has left both sanity and insanity behind.

At the same time, both the shadows on the ground and the wraiths in the air move forward in a coordinated assault, striking out at all of their targets nearly simultaneously. Thankfully, Elara's glamer spell and Calia's agility manage to keep the flyers at bay for now. Ala'thea is not so lucky. The first shadow to attack her misses, but the second more than makes its mark on the transformed druid. The bear looks a bit smaller than it was before, as though the monster's ghostly touch had literally torn away her form. From his position at the back of the fray, Maniakh finishes calling forth another quartet of shadow combatants. Like the wraiths before them, they seem to take sustenance in the unhallowed ground at their feet. Just by looking at them, you can tell that they are deadlier than the first wave. The necromancer finishes everything off with another spell, this one a direct offensive. A bolt of cold darkness reaches out to envelop Myr's entire torso. Although he tries to shake it off, the war leader cannot manage to overcome more debilitating effects. The undead dragon follows soon after, inching forward trying to rake the fighter with his bone claws. This too is successful, as Myr stumbles back with a sizeable gash in his torso.

Spoiler: Actions

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Here are the enemy actions for the turn:

First, we have Malthus firing off a disintegrate against Elara's bison. Is using a 6th level spell slot to get rid of a 3rd level spell total overkill? Probably. Is it in-character? Absolutely. His CL automatically beat the celestial SR, so he will need to roll a ranged touch attack, and if it hits, the bison will need to make a save or take full damage.

Malthus Ranged Touch: (1d20+11)[28]
Bison Fortitude: (1d20+7)[15]
Partial Damage: (5d6)[20]
Full Damage: (28d6)[92]

Next, we have Maniakh's incorporeal summons attacking. The wraith attacking Elara (wraith 1) is going to roll a d6 to see if it doesn't hit one of her images instead. A 6 is a hit, the rest are considered misses. The other wraith and the shadows are attacking as normal (although one of them is still entangled). The first shadow attack will be against Elara's bison, but if it does get disintegrated, it will simply move to attack Ala'thea as well. Just in case, I will also roll Fortitude saves for Elara and Calia against the Constitution drain effects. The DC is 14, in case you were wondering.

Wraith Miss Chance: (1d6)[1]
Wraith Attack 1: (1d20+8)[28]
Wraith Damage 1: (1d4+3)[4] with (1d6)[6] Con drain.
Elara Fortitude: (1d20+5)[25]

Wraith Attack 2: (1d20+8)[11]
Wraith Damage 2: (1d4+3)[4] with (1d6)[1] Con drain.
Calia Fortitude: (1d20+11)[25]

Shadow Attack 1: (1d20+1)[9]
Shadow Damage 1: (1d6+2)[7]

Shadow Attack 2: (1d20+5)[15]
Shadow Damage 2: (1d6+2)[8]

Maniakh is also casting darkbolt against Myr. It's another Fortitude partial effect, although the effect in question is whether or not Myr will be stunned for a round or not. Either way, he is taking the full damage if Maniakh succeeds on his ranged touch. Half of the damage is cold, and the other is untyped.

Maniakh Ranged Touch: (1d20+10)[16]
Full Damage: (5d8)[16]
Myr Fortitude: (1d20+14)[17]

And last but certainly not least, Maniakh held his wyvern back, but he definitely is ordering the thing to attack Myr. The wyvern is going to take a 5-ft step into the square adjacent to Myr, and then attack him with its claws from there. Between Augmented Summoning, the desecrate effect, and Improved Summoning, this undead is an absolute beast.

Wyvern Attack: (1d20+16)[31]
Wyvern Damage: (2d6+10)[20]
Wyvern Crit Confirm: (1d20+16)[26]

So as of now, I have:

- Elara: unharmed, currently all mirrored up, and threatened by a wraith.
- Calia: Strength drained, but otherwise unharmed. Also threatened by a wraith.
- Arran and Ben: both hiding, and completely unharmed.
- Myr: taken down to 24 hp, and is stunned until the next round of actions.
- Ala'thea: still a flaming bear. Also Strength drained. Threatened by two shadows.

Let me know if I've made any horrible math mistakes!

Lirian: Sylvia nods along to what you are saying, although the name Senn does seem to catch her attention. The look she gives you is as dark as you have seen in the brief time you have known her. She isn't angry - more upset, as though you had cursed the very Worldpine with a malediction. But Panadil Isidar seems even less impressed. He does not register the same name, but his furrowed brows and unwavering stare indicate that he is more than aware of your falsehoods.

"I would have you speak the truth. Tell us all of it, and do not waste anyone's time with tall tales. Menartu wytalimen nilaamin, sil niefendil mertel exanimos nuvendi."

Sylvia pauses. She looks from you, to the elder, and then back to you. Her expression reads as more disappointed now, but still she says nothing. Waving her hand, the librarian invites you to speak. There is a hardness behind her eyes now, something guarded. There is some hurt too, but it's obvious that Sylvia is trying not to take it too personally. No, this wariness is bigger than your relationship. Even though you have only uncovered bits and pieces, you get the sense that her feelings seem to revolve around something bigger than herself.

[Sen isSaqqara]

Lirian sighs. "I had hoped to avoid this, but... Alright, then: the truth. Simply put, I recently acquired a portion of knowledge regarding the distant past. The very distant past. The exact method by which I learned of this, I am sworn not to reveal. This is why I decieved you. Even saying as much as I am now is, in a manner of speaking, betraying the essence of my promise. Nonetheless, if I'm going to play it like this, there are a few more details I can share. Firstly, yes, we did kill Senn in the course of coming to acquire the aforementioned knowledge. She tried to kill us, and we retaliated in kind, and in force. She was after it too, and we stopped her." She pauses for a moment to think. "There isn't much more I can say without violating my promise, but I suppose I could add that we found this knowledge in an old place, deep in ice. We met someone very old there, who wanted us to keep his secret. You are old, and know much. Perhaps this rings a bell or two? I cannot see any negative reprecussions of you knowing where I went if you already know the secret in question. I won't say any more than I have, though." She feels bad about divulging even as much as she has, but she'll at least try to keep the secrets of the vault beneath the glacier.
"But all in all, that is a topic for another time. It likely is not relevant to the trouble we may soon find ourselves in here. That side of things lies with you, Sylvia. Though the way you reacted to the changeling's name, perhaps things are more connected than they seem?"

[PersonMan]

Elara, using the shelter of the array of false images of herself, goes through a brief maneuver of stepping this way and that, an otherwise useless display of footwork that briefly turned the small clump of images into a confusing, unsyncronized cluster. With the brief respite this gives her, the mage takes several brief steps away from the wraith, pulling a scroll from her messenger bag as she does so. Her eyes going over the old parchment, memories of its discovery returning as she feels the slightly burned edges. In the past, she'd avoided using it because of its obvious old age and the strange connection she felt to it. Now there was no choice - she would have to use it, or Maniakh's summoned spirits would destroy them. Unrolling the dried parchment, she turns her gaze down to the arcane writing on it, looking at the odd symbols she knew to read as well as words by now.

While the spell itself didn't require it - one of the first things Elara had realized about the scroll was the odd incantion that wasn't actually necessary - something drives the vagabond to read every word, true speech coming between the arcane syllables.

"℧♒☉, t̬θɝ☤!
Blazing eye of the ancient sun,
ɪ̈ɝɚ♄ ♈∩³
erupt into this world once more!"

Elara feels the arcane energy of the scroll flowing from the parchment into her hands. With it comes another feeling. One of memory, familiarity. The same feeling she knew from painting, as she used something so well-practiced and utterly mastered that it was no longer solely conscious; parts of the process were second nature, as easy as breathing almost. The feeling grows stronger as she continues, phantom heat below her even as arcane power begins to flow through her hands, wrists trembling briefly as the energy passes through them.

"ɪ̈ŋɒ æːɾʌʔ
Burn the souls set out to darken you,
‖ɚð t, ̬θˈɹ§
cover the earth in shining radiance!"

The alley was gone. Elara was gone. No, not quite - she was there, just...different. Not herself. A feeling of understanding settles over her thoughts, despite her not recognizing where she was. A thin ledge, beneath her. Orange light from deep below it; simmering heat rolling over her. Skin slick with sweat, great wings extended. A smile, comfort brought by knowledge. Recognition; the scroll in not-her hands was the one Elara had found in the cave in the Pillars. Peace, in the knowledge that it would not be needed for millenia - Elara realizes that the not-her, the other mind that she felt, was receiving some of her own thoughts. Memories of a time thousands of years in the future?

Even as Elara's mind shifts, her perception drawn into a vision of earth and magma, she doesn't stop the continuous chant needed to use the scroll's energy. Her voice changes, growing even more different from the one she had used to speak before - it wasn't only filled with the obvious strength that was necessary for magic, but also changed, as if harmonizing with itself. Despite the continuation of her movement, it becomes clear that something as changed. The mage seems to be in a sort of trance as her clothing shifts, moving as if something was pushing it away from within. A moment later, the source of said movement becomes visible, and a pair of fleshy wings enter view. Extending suddenly, they span so far that the wraith nearest the mage could easily touch the one closer to it - assuming it could make out the proper appendage amongst the sudden assault of illusionary ones.

Emerging from the vision, Elara blinks twice as the scroll before her changes from the rolled up, freshly scorched one in her shared memory to the unravelled, shining one in the present. The power contained in the ancient writing wells up to an extent that it is visible to the naked eye - pulsating light fills the ink at the same time as it fills Elara's veins. An ancestral memory, ancient instinct, compels her to will it outwards, flowing through her body until it reaches the appendages at her back, golen energy rushing through them to fill the blue, iris-like circles in the center of each wing.

"ᵊɫ̃ʊ̈ ɾː, ☉!
Be reminded of your foe, and kneel in awe," Elara commands, performing the last motion needed to unleash the power held dormant in the scroll for so long. Twisting it once, spots of light briefly lancing out from where the age-old parchment rips, she feels a tidal wave of energy rush through her before it explodes outwards from her wings. Formerly blue rings, reminiscent of Elara's eyes, were now shining golden bands of light. Her flesh became golden in an instant, light piercing her skin, muscles and veins to surge out through the air.

At the center of a corona of light, Elara breathes heavily, eyes burning, standing tall as the remains of the scroll fall from her hands, the formerly dark alley now light as if by the sun itself.

Spoiler: Actions

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First, 5' step away from the wraith (already done on the map IIRC).
Then, move action to get scroll of Daylight (technically the wings come out here).
Standard action to read scroll. Target is Elara's wing markings; technically it has to be an object so if need be I can change it to be one of her burned-out wands, or the scroll itself.

That should even the odds a bit.

[esorscher]

Sweat beads on Arran's brow as he fingers the fletching of another arrow. Time seems to slow as he brings the arrow up, notching it and drawing back on his bowstring with a smooth, practiced motion, until the string stretches taut. He exhales slowly, then releases, and watches only for a moment as the arrow flies toward its pale, sinewy mark. Instead, his attention rests on the twin arrow which he pulls from his quiver, notching and drawing in one practiced, rapid motion. It too flies toward the undead shadow-summoner, followed swiftly by its younger brother. All three arrows burst into flame mid-air, streaking across the alleyway from Arran's position behind the stairwell, the third fired before the first reaches its destination.

Spoiler

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Full-attack, rapid shot, Inspire courage, Dragonfire Inspiration.

Attack 1: (1d20+12)[24], (1d6+6)[12]+(2d6)[5]
Attack 2: (1d20+12)[19], (1d6+6)[7]+(2d6)[5]
Attack 3: (1d20+7)[19], (1d6+6)[7]+(2d6)[6]

[Ajadea]

"We are not your pawns, nor your puppets, Maniakh. Haven't you figured it out yet?" Calia taunts. She throws her head back and forces an almost hysterical laugh, born of terror and false madness and lies. Fire flares, red to orange to curling, crackling, blue. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Don't play with fire unless you want to get burned." She brings her sword down on the flickering, writhing, wraith with all her her might. Magic and flame would do what steel alone could not. She takes a step back, ready to charge or flee both. Her fingers fumble at her belt, drawing out a single little pellet. Long shadows flee at the touch of light. It seems like the beginning of a perfect tale.

Spoiler

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Entangling Exhalation damage (1d6)[5]
Round 3/4
Standard Action: Attack misses. Ignore it. Attack the wraith: Attack - (1d20+4)[14] Sword Damage - (1d8-1)[1] Fire - (2d6)[6] Miss - (1d2)[1]
Free Action: 5-foot step back.
Move Action: Pull out a shadow-killing pellet.

[gallagher]

Ben reloads as he surveys the scene before him. The creature that Arran had targeted might be a problem, but Ben continues to focus his efforts on the necropolitan. He sees some mage vaguely familiar from the posters Ben had glimpsed on his way begin a spell, and turns his head as the area erupts with light. Good move, Ben thinks, the light can only help our cause.

Ben waits for the light to subside, and then pops up from his hiding spot, aims another bolt at the necropolitan, and fires. Using swiftness gifted to him by the gods, he tucks and rolls to his right, staying low and staying hidden from sight.

Spoiler

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Status: So hiding after shooting is a move action, so I'm down 2 uses of turn undead, total of three left. Animal devotion and my collar have been activated for three rounds, so I have seven left of animal devotion and plenty more of the collar. The tumbling is entirely for flavor, and so I am not really seeing a need for a roll here (badum psh). For my move, I only want to move five feet, but I wanted to ask ahead of time if this is an absolute limit in this situation. As a rule, hiding after shooting is a move action, so it might be that I am limited to a five foot step. However, it is also possible to hide while moving, so if I use my move action to go more than five feet, can I still hide as part of that move?
Maybe I am over-thinking it. Anyway, I am also buffed by inspire courage and dragonfire inspiration

Attack: (1d20+11)[26]
Damage: (1d3)[2] plus (3d6)[7] sneak attack and (2d6)[12] fire damage
Hide: (1d20+28)[32]
MS: (1d20+15)[35]

[Togo]

As Myr turns to shout something, a bolt of ebon darkness catches him just under the chin. He staggers back as the blackness overwhelms him, his trusty Guisarme falling the ground with a clatter. He hunches over, not helpless, but trying desperately to clear his mind and of body of the priordial evil that courses through him like tendrils of icy fire.

The Twelve watch over me, guide me, protect. In their care, my footsteps shall not falter, nor shall I be led by duty into evil.

He rises up again, his purpose clear.

[3SecondCultist]

Arran, Ben, Calia, Elara, Myr: The light from Elara's spell has an immediate and visceral effect on Maniakh's undead. The ranks of undead nearest the young mage begin to flee as though their worst nightmares were on their heels. As they scatter in different directions across the low Onyx sky, you can see little wisps of their essence burned away, like sluggish fog off the water. Elara's wings are a beacon of hope, invading every crack in the alley and even beyond. Something shines through her, a force that is almost immeasurably old. As the spectral forces fall back, Ala'thea lets out a triumphant roar.

Maniakh has to shield his own eyes - or he would have tried, had Ben and Arran's arrows not flown true. They tear at his cloak, revealing an intricate set of armor beneath. This time there are no quips, no cruel repartee, just a grimace of pain. His leathery fingers grasp his petrified staff with renewed intensity. Malthus, however, is completely unfazed. The fires behind his eyes seem to focus in on Elara, their intentions terrifyingly clear. Raising one of his claws in the air, the sorcerer seems ready to begin casting another spell.

"Come on; this isn't worth our while. I can't believe they used a daylight spell." Maniakh's upper lip curls in contempt as he mutters more profanities to his companion. If his face wasn't so gruesome as he spoke, the incident might have even been humorous. The transfigured changeling pauses, as though waiting on a silent order that has not yet been given.

When he turns around and starts heading to Maniakh, you know that he has made up his mind. Placing one talon on the necromancer's shoulder, he starts preparing another spell. Maniakh himself leans forward, pulling a silver pin out from underneath his robes. Before Malthus is even done, he manages to start and finish a spell of his own, which takes effect as he begins to drop the pin to the ground. "Have fun with my wyvern, kids. I don't doubt that we'll be seeing each other again soon." He smiles one last horrid time before Malthus finishes his spell, and both members of the Six abruptly disappear.

And then the pin hits the ground.

Suddenly, the entirety of the ground around where he was standing is filled with darkness. No, it's something deeper than mere shadow. It needs no light, feeding only on itself. It seems to come from beyond time itself, and although the radius of the spell is much more localized than Elara's, Maniakh's own evocation seems a lot more potent. All anyone can see from the outside is a roiling cloud of pure shadow that seems almost alive. And those within can see nothing at all.

Within the spell, Myr can hear the movements of the great dragonkin as it lumbers towards him... and yet he cannot see the monster at all. He does not see the red points of malice in the creature's eyes, does not see the exposed sinews twisting as it raises its huge claw and swipes down at his head.

Spoiler: Actions

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First of all, we have to roll the damage from Elara's daylight spell to all of the shadows and wraiths in the 'direct radius' (which was pretty much all of them). I'm going to roll individually, I think. I guess most of them are leaving anyhow - it's more symbolic than anything else, really.

Daylight Damage: (1d8)[6]
Daylight Damage: (1d8)[7]
Daylight Damage: (1d8)[6]
Daylight Damage: (1d8)[5]
Daylight Damage: (1d8)[1]
Daylight Damage: (1d8)[5]

And then the Six are acting, I believe. Malthus is spending his move action to head over to Maniakh, and then a standard action to teleport them both away, leaving only you, Ala'thea, and the summons left on the battlefield. The shadows nearest Maniakh were healed by his darkness spell, which I will also roll here.

Darkness Healing: (1d8)[4]
Darkness Healing: (1d8)[7]

Finally, we have the wyvern trying to attack Myr again in the darkness. It will suffer the 20% concealment chance before attacking though - a 20 or less on the d100 is a miss.

Wyvern Miss Chance: (1d100)[69]
Wyvern Attack: (1d20+16)[24]
Wyvern Damage: (2d6+10)[17]
Wyvern Crit Confirm: (1d20+16)[19]

Edit: so that quartet of shadows is still in the darkness spell, as is the wyvern. All of them are at full strength and then some, due to being summoned into a desecrate effect. You guys had better save Myr before he turns into an empty suit of armor - or just pulverized into thick red paste.

Lirian: As soon as you mention a promise, Isidar's features soften again. He listens to what you have to say attentively, not interrupting. His face is completely impassive, and you see no reaction when you mention the glacier, or hint at the existence of the Starstone Vault. Sylvia has also cooled somewhat, although the workings around her mouth aren't a good sign. When she finally does speak, it is in the clipped tone of someone who knows they shouldn't be angry anymore.

"Whoever's secrets you are keeping, you should know that they owe you a great debt. Revelation is easy - deception is infinitely harder. As for Senn... I have heard the name before. If she's anything like you described just now, then she is definitely involved in what I have to say. Tell me Lirian, what do you know about the Custodians?"

[Ajadea]

"Damn them!" Calia yells, watching Maniakh and Malthus disappear into darkness. Her voice is rougher now, and louder, no longer mimicking, mocking, pretending. "Myr, get out of there now!" She runs forward and grabs her shield up. It feels like a lead weight on her arm, but with a zombie dragon thing lurking in the darkness, she'd cope with the extra weight. The very idea of Maniakh managing to call up any dragonkin was sickening. Calia resolves not to think of that. "Follow the sound of my voice!" Myr better be able to hear that. Her throat was beginning to get sore.

Spoiler

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Move action: Move forward
Standard action: Grab and put on my shield (if I can't do both, just grab it up for now) to get AC back up. Calia drops to a medium load.

Myr's within fast healing 2 range. Hopefully he doesn't die.