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  1. - Top - End - #421
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    3SecondCultist's Avatar

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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Arran: The outer walls of the Old Town barracks are not as you remember them.

    Great palisades have been erected around the perimeter in record time, complete with a veritable wall of torchlight to banish the darkness around. Entire battalions of guards are on watch, and you can't help but notice small stains of blood in the surrounding streets. Best not to think of what might have happened here over the past day. There are also a few figures atop the walls who don't look like soldiers: men and women in bright robes. Their insignias betray them as members of the Accord, the spellcasting branch of the Republic military. Many carry wands, and have spellbooks on their belts.

    Your group is stopped more than thirty yards from the main gate, as a quartet of figures emerges as if from the stones themselves. They all wield short swords or daggers, as though used to fighting in close quarters. You recognize several of them as the irregulars guarding the entrances to the city gates when you first arrived in Onyx. Their faces are all covered in cloth wraps - the only visible trace of their humanity is their eyes.

    "Take another step, and die. Who are you?"


    Ben: Your journey isn't long, as your previous excursions over the city roofs have given you a decent sense of where you're going. Soon enough, you spot the distinct silhouette of the di Kerastin Academy. Approaching from above, you can see that all of the shutters have been closed, and the blinds drawn. What's more, the iron gates to the quadrangle have been sealed. By the looks of things, you won't find much help here.

    You do, however, spot a few figures on the street below you. It takes a moment for your gnomish vision to adjust, but you quickly recognize Calia, Elara, and Myr standing and talking with a stranger. Calia is holding out a light that strays across the bricks and mortars. But it diminishes with the coming of the sun. By the looks of things, their conversation is civil.

    Spoiler
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    Make a Spot check, please.


    Calia, Elara, Myr: "The Painted House might work," the emissary muses. He takes a long, deep drag and waits for the three of you to come to a final decision. He looks around, as though making sure nobody is watching. Apparently satisfied, he moves to lean on a nearby wall.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-10-03 at 01:04 PM.
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    Small Justice


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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  2. - Top - End - #422
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Arran holds his hands up. "My name is Arran Tuuth, and I am a friend. I have a message to deliver to Titus Vasher, Commander. Please, direct me to him, or if that is impossible, direct him to me. It is of the utmost urgency and import that we communicate directly and privately. It is in relation to the current conditions of this city, and I assure you, I will speak with him, and delaying me from doing so, if that is your will, is both delaying the inevitable and costing innocent lives with every passing second."
    Last edited by esorscher; 2014-10-05 at 04:23 PM.
    "Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence"

    "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way."

    "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

  3. - Top - End - #423
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Ben is irritated that the Academy is barred, but upon seeing the candidates, he watches from above and notes what he can see and hear from his vantage point. All the while, he stays motionless, keeping to the shadows to stay undetected. Ben also gives a silent prayer in thanks that he ran into the candidates, knowing that where they are, the Six of Shadow might also be close.

    Spoiler
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    My Spot is in the OoC, but I got 11 :-/
    Hide: (1d20+20)[38]
    MS: (1d20+10)[28]
    Listen: (1d20+5)[23]

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    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    ...

    You're just going to start randomly setting things on fire, aren't you?
    Quote Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble View Post
    ...

    This entire campaign's going to become nothing but partying in a long forgotten world, isn't it?
    In the past, I played Sir Theo Roost.
    I am soon to begin playing his heir, Dora the Destroya

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  4. - Top - End - #424
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    .
    * * * * * * * Two Hours Later * * * * * * *


    Arran: After being interrogated by no less than three lieutenants, you are finally escorted into the barracks proper, Kender at your side. The rest of your entourage is safe, although in the company of an entire squadron of Accord members should any trouble arise. The two of you are led through two pairs of cast iron doors, up into a low second story hall. The windows would offer a commanding view of the streets beyond, but they have been opaqued so as to prevent anyone from seeing inside.

    The man who stands opposite you is perhaps the spitting image of a general. But you've seen him before, at Heroes' Plaza. He wears military garb, with no armor, and wears a naked longsword on his belt. His light brown hair is the image of precision, and his beard has been neatly clipped. Eyes of flecked hazel regard you coolly, waiting for you to speak your case.


    Calia, Elara, Myr: By the time all of you reach the Painted House, the sun has firmly risen in the sky. Other than the odd cloud, it appears as though you're in for a much more pleasant day than the last. Or at least, a brighter one.

    The city is empty. Either that, or nobody is willing to stand within a block's radius of you. Naberys greets Elara and Myr with a hollow smile, but the elderly halfling scans the street for threats before letting you in. The fire burns low, suffusing the common room with heat to counter the unseasonal cold snap. You are the only patrons, save for a woman in tanned leather armor that sits in the corner, reading a book. She's tied her long blonde hair up into a ponytail, and a long, pale scar runs across her left temple. A pair of wickedly curved daggers are strapped to her hip. Otherwise, she doesn't really seem like the military type - but that may well be the point. Her eyes follow each of you carefully as you enter, as though making sure that it is indeed you. The innkeeper nods in the woman's direction, as though making a show of giving you a tour of the inn's features.

    "That one over there... she's been here for near an hour now, on the same page. Either she's a slow reader, or she's been waiting for you."

    Spoiler: DC 15 Spot
    Show
    In the stranger's spare hand, half hidden by her discarded cloak, there is the unmistakeable outline of a thick vellum envelope, the same as the one carried by the first emissary.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-07 at 05:11 PM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  5. - Top - End - #425
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Elara eyes the woman cautiously, frowning as her eyes go over her weapons and scar but saying nothing. At least she didn't seem to be too much of a fighting type, and it was possible to get scarred without being unsavory. The mage gives Naberys a smile and nod, thanking her quietly before heading towards the woman, gesturing for her companions to follow her. No point in wasting time - they were going to have to speak to this woman, most likely, so they might as well approach her and begin the conversation on their terms.

    "Good morning," Elara begins, expression friendly despite her feelings. "I couldn't help but notice you looking at us. Is there something you need to speak to us about, or are you looking to get a portrait?" She asks, a wink punctuating the final question, hinting at what might follow if she chooses the latter.
    Not Person_Man, don't thank me for things he did.

    Old-to-New table converter. Also not made by me.

  6. - Top - End - #426
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    "Commander Vasher," Arran begins, "My name is Arran Tuuth. There's no reason you should know that name--I'm new to this city, but I'm no stranger to the foe we face. Judging from where we are meeting, I am sure you realize the situation this city is in. We are under martial law, and unless I am mistaken, The Six are the strongest force in this city. I hope I am mistaken. If it is your hope that they will complete their little game and leave the city unharmed, I must urge you to reconsider. The Six pose a greater threat, not just to this city, but to every civilized person on this continent, perhaps even the world.

    I come here seeking to offer my services, and in some small way to absolve me of my sin. Were it not for the actions of me and my companions, your city would not be under its current occupation, and its people would not be drawn into this awful contest. I was, at least in part, responsible for the death of Senn, a shapeshifter and member of the Six, and if I had not done so, they would not have brought their challenge to this city. Of course, they would also have been successful in their plans to destroy life as we know it, so I hope that will weigh in your considerations.

    I represent a group of adventurers, some of whom are current contestants in the Six's scheme. By joining our strength to the varied forces in this city, I believe that we can save this city and this continent. It will take all the centers of power working together to combat the foe we face. Kender, here, represents the church of Pelor, who have already agreed to join us.
    " He draws the longsword Corona and holds it high overhead, its light gleaming from the blade. "This sword has already proven invaluable in combating the dark shadows that one of the Six summons to work his evils." He sheathes the sword, and continues. "My associate is meeting with the arcanists at the Academy as we speak to gather their support as well. Together with you and the soldiers under your command, we can stop the Six. Will you accept our help?
    "Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence"

    "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way."

    "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

  7. - Top - End - #427
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Arran: The commander listens astutely to what you have to say, occasionally glancing over at Kender but largely keeping his focus on you. You can almost see the wheels turning in his head, and not a moment of silence has passed before he nods and takes up the reins of conversation.

    "If you are who you say you are - and as my lieutenants have already assured me that you are not of the Six, so I am inclined to believe you - then I will pledge the aid of Onyx's military forces. I have already sent out undercover assets to determine whether or not the candidates would be amenable to joining forces and coordinating with us. Either way, it's obvious that the Six don't care about civilian casualties. My specialists will be hiding amongst them, in wait for a member of the Six to approach them. At that time, they will send a signal to the rest of the operatives. Once we've captured one member of the Six, I intend to find out where they're hiding, and root them out of my city." Slamming a fist down on the table, Vasher's expression is frighteningly stern. But you get the sense that his candor is genuine. This is a man who gets things done.

    "So, how is it you intend to help? Your misdeeds are not so great that I can't use you or Kender in this."


    Ben: It's been five minutes since the candidates entered the Painted House, and nothing. Sunlight floods the surrounding streets and alleyways, giving the normally run-down thoroughfares of West Harth into pleasant walks. You spot the odd passer-by, although everyone seems to be walking in groups of at least three or four. There are voices in the larger avenues, the sounds of the fearless. Onyx is still very much alive.

    And then you see her. At least nine feet tall, all plate armor and scarlet scales, she treads through the scattering masses like a tidal wave. Long braids tumble around her shoulders, and her eyes burn with rage. In one hand, she grips an immense sword - nearly the full span of a grown man - that crackles with lightning, but carries nothing in the other. At a guess, you would say that she wields it with both hands, tearing any opposition in half. Thankfully she hasn't spotted you yet, but she will be at the door of the Painted House within a few minutes.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    If you can stay hidden from Theral, you'll get a surprise round. Otherwise, roll initiative in the OOC.


    Calia, Elara, Myr: After she looks around one more time, the woman motions each of you over to sit with her. Naberys, understanding the nature of your meeting, moves into the kitchen at the back of the inn, and out of earshot. Pulling out the envelope, the woman places it firmly on the table. The seal is identical to the one you received outside the di Kerastin Academy.

    "Another letter from Vasher. He plans to ally with the priests of Sirramar and a couple of adventurers to create a strike force, with the purpose of capturing all members of the Six. He's dividing his troops up into squadrons that will disguise themselves among the remaining populace, tracking the movements of the Six in any way we can. We're not supposed to reveal our names - for security, you understand - but you can call me 'Kyria'." Flicking a rogue strand of her hair back, she hands you the letter before continuing. "It's all in there, if you'd like to read it yourselves. I'm to act as a liaison between you and the commander. I've got a sending stone right here, so I can contact him in case of an emergency."


    Lirian: The sun casts long shadows on the tombstones. All around you, the names and dates of those long past. The city walls in the distance teem with activity, although there is nobody at the northern gates. Even at such a time of crisis, it's apparent that the people of Onyx stay true to their superstitions. Behind you, the tunnel entrance proceeds into darkness. Maniakh stands not ten feet away, examining the closest headstones.

    "What a beautiful day! Damn. It's what I miss the most, you know. I guess being functionally immortal is a good trade-off, but where we go, there isn't usually a lot of light." The necropolitan takes a moment to look back at you. This is probably the quietest he's been since you left the Six's lair. Letting out a rattling sigh, Maniakh kneels over the grave. "Come on, we haven't got all day. These corpses aren't going to unearth themselves."
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-08 at 09:11 AM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  8. - Top - End - #428
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    Sen isSaqqara's Avatar

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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    "Indeed. How are you planning on getting them... unearthed? It is my understanding that a degree of physical contact is needed to raise the dead." She flexes non-existent muscles and raises an eyebrow. "I'm hardly the model of earthmoving skill, myself."
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    Yeah, DreamingMage honestly thinks he is a god. Over the years, I've found it best just to go with it.
    Spoiler: Things I Once Was But No Longer Entirely Am
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    Previous Usernames: DreamingMage, Zeno Desaqqara
    Credit to araveugnitsuga.
    Credit to DarkCorax.
    Credit to me.
    Credit to me.

  9. - Top - End - #429
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Lirian: The necromancer pauses, before shooting you a horrid grin. From out behind some nearby brush, he reveals a leather satchel filled with tools for robbing: shovels mostly, but also pins for marking out the boundaries of a tomb and some chisels and hammers for breaking apart mortar and stone. "Well, let's see. Between you and me, I think we can dig our way in to some of the lower-class burial sites. From there... well, we'll have some help, won't we? Luckily, the dead make for some of the best menial labor out there. We never need to stop to rest, after all." Taking one of the spades, he finds a plot and begins to dig.

    "Oh, and before I forget: the Guardians? They look like big moving suits of armor? Their deactivation code is 'Fealty before Death'. Just make sure you speak loud enough, or you're likely to get impaled on one of their swords."
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-07 at 05:10 PM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  10. - Top - End - #430
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Ben, leaving the Painted House, sees one of the tallest women he had seen since he left Arva carving her way through the crowd. Her determined demeanor and powerful build appear so threatening that the crowd is practically running away from her. Ben takes the crowd's cue, activates his collar and gets out the warrior's way, but as she passes Ben, he falls in pace several feet behind her, intent on staying hidden as he follows her to the Painted House. When Ben has an opportune moment, he says into the earring to Arran - Now. One spotted, sword and scales, Painted House, Now.

    In preparation of being spotted, Ben keeps his hand near his weapons, prepared to draw and fight. As he follows Theral, he tries his best to move by quietly, and keeps his eyes open and ears alert for other members of the Six

    Spoiler
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    I will deactivate my collar after 1 minute unless something happens that would require me to keep it on.
    I already rolled a Hide, here is MS, Spot and Listen
    MS: (1d20+18)[33]
    Spot: (1d20+5)[19]
    Listen: (1d20+5)[20]
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    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    ...

    You're just going to start randomly setting things on fire, aren't you?
    Quote Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble View Post
    ...

    This entire campaign's going to become nothing but partying in a long forgotten world, isn't it?
    In the past, I played Sir Theo Roost.
    I am soon to begin playing his heir, Dora the Destroya

    Avatar by Szilard

  11. - Top - End - #431
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Ben: The arrow flies down from one of the nearby roofs, striking you right beneath your left shoulder. The pain is immense, evidence of a certain amount of expertise in the arena of pain. Following the trajectory, you manage to spot a familiar face: the whisper gnome, another member of the Six. Annas, her name was. She points to your location and lets out a brief shout, signaling her companion, who has abruptly turned around. The sword in Theral's hands has somehow disappeared - it's over her left shoulder, somehow. Instead, she carries a wand, and without a word fires off a charge in your general direction. The golden particles disperse around you, getting in all of your clothes and your hair. They seem to stick to you with an unnatural persistence, betraying your location to the half-dragon. And as you stare down the feral grimace of a thousand scarlet scales, you realize something deep in the pit of your stomach.

    They never cared about getting to the candidates. This was a trap meant solely for you.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    First, I'll be rolling surprise round attack against you. Theral has a readied action as well (she used her move on her last turn, but she's using her standard action to use her Wand of Glitterdust).

    Attack: (1d20+31)[35]
    Damage: (1d6)[2] plus (5d6)[15] sneak attack damage for being flat-footed, since you don't have Uncanny Dodge yet.

    As for the Glitterdust, you need to roll a DC 14 Will save or be blinded, and you take a -40 to Hide checks for the next 6 rounds.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-08 at 09:12 PM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  12. - Top - End - #432
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    "My strengths are in combat and command. I was a soldier before joining the Adventurer's Guild. The plan you describe is the same as what I had in mind--a strike force of the most skilled warriors will be as effective as we can hope for, and I intend to be a part of that force. As a hand under your direction, or a finger at the point, in whatever capacity you would permit, I will serve," Arran offers.
    "Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence"

    "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way."

    "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

  13. - Top - End - #433
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Arran: "A soldier? I knew I could count on you." Vasher nods appreciatively, before leading you and Kender towards the door on the far side of the chamber. The high priest has said nothing this entire exchange, but you can tell that he seems more confident than he did just a minute ago.

    As you're moving, you hear something. The earpiece buzzes faintly, and you can make out a kind of distortion as Ben's message makes it through. Now. One spotted, sword and scales, Painted House, Now.


    Ben: Before you have the opportunity to do anything at all, the whisper gnome atop the roof fires off another arrow. Thankfully, this one flies completely astray and strikes the cobblestone street harmlessly. Clambering across the roofs, Annas jumps headlong off into the street, casting a spell at a moment's thought. She drifts and lands not far away, moving across your field of vision and takes up a position on your right flank. Which leaves you, wounded, with a massive dragon and a deadly gnome in the middle of the street. What will you do?

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    Rolling another ranged attack for Annas, the damage from said attack, and she's using Feather Fall in coordination with her jumping off the roof in order to set herself up close to you. She's still got her bow out, and she can't hide in natural daylight.

    Attack: (1d20+11)[12] for (1d6)[6] plus (5d6)[23] with 11 extra damage.


    Lirian: It takes a little while, but you finally manage to unearth your first corpse on your own. You haven't seen any signs of the Guardians yet, but Maniakh himself is not far away. He beckons you over to a sizeable patch of dirt, cleared of any kind of brush and vacant of tombstones.

    "If you want them to be born stronger, set them down here." You can see him working on something. In his hands, he carries what looks like a vial of water and some silvery dust. He mutters a malediction under his breath, and releases the items to spill on the ground around him. The divine energy of the spell is released. It works its way into the soil at your feet slowly, darkening the ground until it looks almost black. You can feel the negative energy pulsing through the area, and Maniakh himself seems to be empowered by it. When he smiles this time, a maggot slips through a ragged hole in his throat.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-09 at 09:48 AM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  14. - Top - End - #434
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Ben is quite clearly in over his head. With no flanking partners, hell with no allies around at the moment, Ben must escape to live and fight another day. He locks eyes with the half-dragon, and shouts You may think you trapped me, but it is I who have tricked you! and leaps into the air. Ben whistles and activates his ability to fly, and as he attempts his escape, he says But you can color me amused. See you ladies soon flirtatiously and winks. Ben flies as high as he can, aiming toward the sun to hurt the eyes of anyone who tries to watch his escape or aim an arrow. As he flies, he pulls out his crossbow in the event that he is followed.

    Over 100 feet in the air, Ben says into his earpiece - Two, whisper gnome and half dragon. I have to escape, proceed with caution.

    Spoiler
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    My flight speed is 55 ft right now, and I double move to go 110 feet in the air. I have two bluff rolls (the first for the "tricked you" and the other for the flirtatious remark), and a hide for trying to hide in the sky with the sun behind me.

    Bluff 1: (1d20+7)[23]
    Bluff 2: (1d20+7)[27]
    Hide: (1d20+28)[44]
    Last edited by gallagher; 2014-12-10 at 03:06 AM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    ...

    You're just going to start randomly setting things on fire, aren't you?
    Quote Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble View Post
    ...

    This entire campaign's going to become nothing but partying in a long forgotten world, isn't it?
    In the past, I played Sir Theo Roost.
    I am soon to begin playing his heir, Dora the Destroya

    Avatar by Szilard

  15. - Top - End - #435
    Firbolg in the Playground
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Arran stops suddenly, touching his finger to his ear. "My associate has located one of the Six, at the Painted House. The time for action is now. Do not underestimate our enemy--even one is deadly. If you have forces here, I will lead them to the Painted House. If not, send what help you can." Arran will wait for Vasher's response; hopefully, the Commander has resources he can send with Arran.
    "Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence"

    "Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way."

    "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

  16. - Top - End - #436
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Calia stares distractedly ahead. She keeps brushing the strap of her haversack over and over, as if to reassure her that it is still there. She hesitates for a moment before stepping into the Painted House - the guards are still fresh in her memory, the innkeeper seems to know Elara and Myr, and not for the first time she wonders what she has let slip in her blindness and preoccupation with a goal that no longer matters.

    She takes a seat awkwardly, sitting still and ramrod straight, still not quite focused on the room in front of her.

    "Tell Commander Vasher," she begins, and has to stop, swallow, begin again. Her voice is hoarse from disuse and pain and also fire. One day, she would learn to think before she leapt. One day. "Tell him to examine the buildings around Heroes' Plaza. Major landmarks. I have cause to believe that the Six... have ties to the old regime. The Catos. There may be... I don't know. History. Code. Old secret passages. Something that will tell us who they are and what they want."

    "I... thank the commander for his assistance. We have to be careful though. Oberon wants the game, and I believe he, at least, and therefore Malthus - that's the shapeshifter - will enforce the letter of their law. We can use that. At least a bit. For the next two days, the - three of us, we are the only ones who can attack Annas."
    She'd wanted the other four gone, earlier. Now half of them are gone, and she just wants them back. She glances at Elara. "Annas is their scout. I don't really know what she looks like, but from all I've heard, she considers herself to be a predator in a world of prey. Malthus is a shapeshifter, but when he's not shifting, he's kind of... pale. Unfinished-looking, really. Maniakh is undead. Theral looks like a dragon. Oberon is an illusionist, and underneath that he walks around with a golden mask. So... I guess she's the one who's murdering people and doesn't look like any of those. If the three of us can capture her, so much the better, but it is more important that no one else get in the way. The Six will do more than enough without us giving them a reason to kill."

    Words from the tavern drift back into her head. "We... we can attack those four, I think. Capture at least one, before the next two days are up. If we can find one of those, target them - maybe Theral or Maniakh, we can defend at least a bit against his undead now - well, it's a start." She exhales. Something is stirring in her chest. It feels almost like hope.

  17. - Top - End - #437
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    Lirian sticks her tongue out a bit.
    "You should probably get those maggots taken care of. Necromantic energy infusion I can understand, but surely any actual rot or decay is superficial and unneeded, or even detrimental, to your health?"
    She considers it for a quiet moment, then grabs the corpse by the arm and hauls it over to the blighted ground. She then grabs her spade and starts digging into the ground near the circle, raiding another grave.
    "You know, I'm rather interested in the topic of imbuing objects with magic. I wasn't making much progress, but this necromancy stuff seems promising. All the ritual around it, though, puts me off slightly. I prefer nice, clean magic. Not in the literal sense, of course, but clean in terms of pure application with no pomp and ceremony attached. Perhaps you could provide some insight on the topic for me, as someone experienced in such matters."
    Last edited by Sen isSaqqara; 2014-12-21 at 03:00 PM.
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  18. - Top - End - #438
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    Arran: You hear Ben once more, as he speaks audibly through the connection: Two, whisper gnome and half dragon. I have to escape, proceed with caution. Vasher stops, pulling out a stone from his belt sachel. Muttering under his breath, the commander speaks quietly into the stone.

    "One of the Six near your position. If you've made contact with the candidates, help them to kill or capture. Otherwise, fall back."


    Ben: At such a height, you can see almost every roof in the district, and beyond. The sun is bright. You can see your shadow on the street below, between the two distant figures. Although you can't hear them, you see Annas say something to Theral, and the half-dragon reply. The gnome bounds away, through the streets at a breakneck pace. She disappears and reappears as she walks into the shadows between the buildings, leaving only Theral as your only foe.

    Unfortunately, it appears as though your ploy didn't work all that well. The dragon doesn't seem confused, scared, or bewildered. She came here with the purpose to eliminate you, regardless of your claims to the contrary. Drawing her sword, she seems to be in the midst of preparing a spell. The blade heats up, catching fire as the magic begins to do its work. Theral moves directly beneath you and turns her gaze skyward, spotting the glittering dust even amidst the sun's rays. She points her sword directly at you, and roars in your direction:

    "Don't you get it yet? There is no escaping the Six!"

    From the tip of her blade, four rays of deadly fire emerge, racing towards you. The first strikes you in the side, scorching your flesh and burning your clothes away. The second hits you just below the belt. The pain races through your body, as the third ray hits you square in the chest. The sun is bright. You don't even feel the fourth ray.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    Annas is withdrawing, but Theral is moving to the square below yours and taking a standard action to cast an Enlarged Scorching Ray at you (four rays, all ranged touch attacks dealing fire damage).

    Edit: rolls didn't all work for some reason, I'm going to roll in the OOC.


    Calia, Elara, Myr: Kyria listens to Calia's words attentively, nodding where appropriate and waiting until the bard is finished before interjecting. "That was the commander's plan as well. If we can get one of them on their own, we can uncover where they're hiding and get rid of them before they can do any more damage. Good tip about the link to the Catos, though. I'll make sure to pass that along, so we can get a team looking. Now, we should probably - " The stone at the woman's side glows abruptly, and you can hear a man's voice through the active spell.

    One of the Six near your position. If you've made contact with the candidates, help them to kill or capture. Otherwise, fall back.

    Kyria pauses, looking at each of you as though to assess your next move. From outside, you can hear the horrified screams of civilians.


    Lirian: Maniakh coughs, catching the vermin between his thumb and his index finger. He looks at it in disgust, before casting it aside. "Yeah, it's pretty disgusting. Every couple of weeks, I get a fresh coat of embalming fluid to preserve my body. Gotta stay nice and pretty, can't have pieces falling off every which way, you know." He laughs, and it sounds more genuine than any you've heard thus far. Is that a hint of warmth in his eyes? Or perhaps it's just the light? Prodding the ground one more time with his staff, Maniakh stops to think.

    "My magic is all about honoring tradition. There's power in old things, more than most people know. You, your power comes from within. You're quite like Malthus in that regard, but that's not me. I'm just a vessel for something greater than myself." He turns to look at you expressionlessly. "It's why I've chosen to join Oberon. He may be a bit shortsighted in his ambitions, but by and large he gets the job done. Now come on, let's see what you can do." The corpses at your feet beckon in silence.

    * post roll count doesn't match database
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-12 at 02:22 AM.
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    You divine bastard.

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  19. - Top - End - #439
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    Elara seems ready to let Calia take over, glad that the woman has emerged from the trance she had fallen into. Things seem to be going well - getting aid from Onyx makes the mage feel less ostracized by the entire thing. More and more the thought of returning to her normal life after the Six are dealt with fades, as does the horrified wondering, the ever-repeating question of Why? being washed away by a growing conviction. Always her conscience had been there, urging her to do this or that, making her sigh and turn back to rush into certain danger. But now it seemed to be growing, filling her in a way that made the pain in her gut pass out of her awareness, followed by the traces of another sensation. Elara isn't quite sure what the new feeling really is, but it's clearly further motivation to fight the Six, which is precisely what she feels she needs.

    Then the stone begins to speak. Well, the stone doesn't speak, the magic does, but at the moment Elara doesn't feel the need to differentiate, as the screams from outside hit her at the same moment as the words. For a moment, she stiffens, mind and body freezing up at the same time. But even as her thoughts scatter, panic and horror mixing into a cocktail of fear, she moves. It's as if she's fallen into her own trance - it takes the mage several moments to realize that she's shoved her chair back, that she's stood up and that she's now rushing towards the door with barely a wave for the others to follow her. She stops mid-step just before the door, before shaking her head and grasping the handle. There was no point in running now. However she'd managed to move that quickly, she'd been doing the right thing.

    With a swallow, Elara pulls the door open and looks out at the street.
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  20. - Top - End - #440
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    Lirian steps forward, quietly choosing eight of the best-preserved corpses. She drags them into a rough line, and considers them for a moment. The rotting frames are hardly the clean blocks she would prefer, but they'll do for now. She walks to the start of the line, and puts a black gem from her pouch into the mouth of each corpse, shutting the jaws as best as she can, then wipes her hands against her robe, trying to remove the feeling of filth and rot. Standing, she takes her place at the center of the line, and stands still. Reaching into her mind, she seizes her power, and begins to draw it out, to shape it between her hands. She wonders where the will with which she is imbuing these corpses comes from. Is it a pale reflection of their own consciousness, dragged back from the abyss, or a new one, constructed of magic and logic? Or is is the nature of magic itself, expressed through a simple link? She's really not sure, so she lets her body work on its own and does her best to observe. The ball of magic between her hands takes on more complex and detailed shape, lines and patterns emerging in different colors of light. When it is complete, she releases it into the corpses at her feet, and watches as it streams into them, targeting the gems in their mouths. The light disappears into the dark crystals, seeming for a moment to have been absorbed, before reappearing in the eyes of the deceased, and along the edges of torn muscle and flesh. As the newly made zombies pull themselves to their feet, she looks down at them with a small smile of satisfaction, of pride. Even yet, a small part of her is disappointed that she did not gain much of an understanding of the process. Perhaps if she tries again...
    She breaks from her reverie to look back at Maniakh, trying to read his face.
    "What'd'ya think? I was thinking I might do the next batch as skeletons, perhaps get them some bows to act as ranged support while this lot takes hits for them."
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
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  21. - Top - End - #441
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    Calia is on her feet the moment the words sink in. Every muscle in her body screams at the sudden movement. She half-curses as she fumbles for her wand, raps it once, twice, against her leg. Two pulses of cool magic surge through her. She can't afford to be at any less than her best for this. She drops the wand back into her haversack and grabs her sword up, too many steps behind Elara for comfort.

    Spoiler
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    Going to Senses Aura for +2 to Initiative, Listen, and Spot
    Healing twice with the wand of CLW - (2d8)[3][5](8) + 2 (10 - I'll take it)
    Last edited by Ajadea; 2014-12-10 at 04:12 PM.

  22. - Top - End - #442
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    Ben shouts down to the half dragon – You mean FIVE! But just as he finishes the sentence, a flash of light appears from the ground, and the few moments that truly meant something to Ben start rushing through his mind.

    It is strange, how the mind goes elsewhere when the body needs it to.

    First he thought of Arva. Home. His brothers, sisters, cousins and elders. The settlors they protected and the battles they fought. The faces of orcs and goblins that perished at Ben’s hands for what he was taught was a greater good. Ben had spent a long part of his life killing one creature to protect another, and now he dies trying to protect a strange city, and friends that had been caught up in the mix. Such a situation would normally make Ben smile, as if it were all some divine joke, but the grin never reached Ben’s face.

    Then he thought of the old man who had brought him into the services of Necrovian. The kindness and wisdom of the stranger that had saved his life and put him on a better path. The path that led him to the Adventurers Guild, and to Arran, his dutiful friend; Lirian, so smart, so inquisitive; Calia, the closest thing he had left to a moral compass; and Sey and Soryn, friends who had fallen. No, FAMILY who had fallen, FAMILY that had been his trusted companions for the best parts of his adult life. Ben had wandered the world looking for the sense of family he had lost so long ago, and in his final moments the thought that he rediscovered that familial feeling brought him peace. Ben’s mind raced through their adventures together: battles, skirmishes and plots, seeing pale fire destroy Urthrax’s army, that strange vision in the cave, and now fighting the Six.

    Ben wanted to shout out to Arran, Lirian and Calia. He wanted to tell them all to flee, to protect themselves, that their lives were worth more than this city, at least to him.

    But that all only lasted a moment. The next moment was all fire, peeling skin, and burning flesh. The pain brought his mind back to his body, if only briefly. Ben had so little air in his lungs that his scream barely lasted half a second, but it was a scream so horrible that it can only mean painful death. Ben’s eyes turned to the ground, and his eyes went dark before he could feel the sensation of falling.

    The last thing to cross his mind was a simple emotion. Hope.
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    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    ...

    You're just going to start randomly setting things on fire, aren't you?
    Quote Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble View Post
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    This entire campaign's going to become nothing but partying in a long forgotten world, isn't it?
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  23. - Top - End - #443
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    Arran: The earpiece is full of rushing wind, the voice of your friend screaming, and then silence. The connection is broken. There isn't even any kind of distortion coming from the magic item. Whatever link existed has been severed, although by who or by what, you cannot yet be sure.

    Vasher has already called for reinforcements, and a squad of several of the troopers you met on the way in meets you out in one of the adjacent corridors. A nod from the commander is sufficient enough, as the squad leader looks to you in order to guide his team to the Painted House.


    Calia, Elara, Myr: As you all step outside, you are met with a screaming woman, who babbles almost completely incoherently.

    "She... they... they killed him! Like it was nothing! We have to get inside..." She runs into the Painted House with her husband and slams the door behind her. Throughout the streets of West Harth, you can see the last remnants of a market morning, as they flee for their lives. It seems that not all have respected Vasher's counsel to stay indoors. It doesn't matter anymore: everything has been abandoned in a mad rush to escape the coming of the Six. The goods and wares have all been left to lie out and rot in the sun.

    But none of that compares to the grisly sight on the other side of the square.

    The body of a small humanoid floats gently downwards through the air. Numerous scorch marks across the upper torso have burned off a good section of the dead individual's clothing, but that hasn't stopped small rivulets of blood from dripping through the charred cracks of his skin. Even worse, he appears to be glowing. Motes of golden dust cover his skin, and his arms are spread wide as he gradually descends towards the ground, giving him the appearance of some failed saint. His face is nearly unrecognizable, as the blasts have almost completely torn it apart. You can barely make out the remains of gnomish features, but the weapons he carries and his general build mark him out as none other than Ben.

    The figure that stands beneath him is instantly recognizable. Between her plate armor, her draconic heritage, and her dreadful greatsword, Theral stands out. She doesn't notice any of you emerging from the Painted House, as she is still engrossed with her last kill.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    You guys have a surprise round on Theral, as she hasn't seen you yet. Take the time to make whatever preparations you need. I am going to roll initiative for you here to speed up the process, factoring in Calia's +2 bonus from Senses Aura, as well as roll Theral's initiative. We'll do group initiative again, okay?

    Initiative - Calia: (1d20+3)[21]
    Initiative - Elara: (1d20-3)[3]
    Initiative - Myr: (1d20+6)[23]
    Initiative - Theral: (1d20+2)[18]

    Edit: it looks like when you guys join battle, Theral will be going first, as you averaged out at 16, against her 18.

    Check out the Roll20 for the combat map.


    Lirian: Maniakh takes a moment to examine each of the newly raised bodies, nodding slowly all the while. He takes a few rough measurements of flesh, and seems impressed by your handiwork.

    "Excellent! You've really done a really great job here. These will certainly serve as suitable shock troops." There's that awful smile again. Although Oberon hasn't yet told you exactly how all of this factors into his plans, some part of you suspects deep down that the necromancer knows exactly what he's doing. He waits for you to complete the rest of the casting, with the other eight gems. By the looks of the bodies here, you will certainly get your wish for a skeletal complement to your new zombies.

    "If you wouldn't mind getting a move on? It's pleasant out here among the dead, but its the living I'm concerned about. Your muscle will help us unearth corpses faster. I'll need at least eight dozen skeletons by the end of the day."


    The Dead Guy: Your first observation about the Pale Realms is that... well, you don't feel anything. Hot, cold, tired, hungry, it's all gone. You just exist here. Looking down at yourself, you find that you appear to look exactly as you did before the injuries that lead to your death, down to the last hair. It's all there, except for one crucial thing.

    There's no color anywhere.

    Everything here is cast in shades of light and dark. The walls around you are monochromatic, devoid of hues or accents. There is a door in front of you, although it is closed. By the looks of things, you are in some sort of antechamber or waiting room. The style is not one you recognize, however. The wood paneling, for one thing, is incredibly fine, and appear to be far beyond the capabilities of even the most expert carpenters. Likewise, the planks that make up the floor are impossibly smooth. And it all looks so new, as though it was built yesterday.

    "Are you ready to begin, sir?" The speaker stands to your left, although you could have sworn that he wasn't there when you arrived here. He's certainly strange looking, dressed in a formal set of cloth complete with a jacket and black shoes. His face is incredibly plain, but his eyes are empty voids and emit no light. Holding out one hand, he moves to open the door.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-17 at 01:39 AM.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

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  24. - Top - End - #444
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    Lirian reaches out to her zombies, grabbing hold of them with her mind. She barks out a few commands, having them help her drag the next batch into place. She chooses the older, more decayed ones for this casting, lining up sixteen. Pulling out more gems, she preforms the spell more quickly this time, but still takes an extra moment or two in the casting to feel the flow of energy, to feel how it seeps into the bones of the dead, and brings motion to them once more. She pays particular attention to the magic forming behind the eyes, trying to get a sense of how the skeletons arising before her can think and understand. She doesn't get too much out of it, though, aside from a slight feeling of extra energy.
    She breathes out heavily, clearing her mind as the sixteen skeletons stand and rank up before her. She turns to Maniakh again, taking an almost military stance as the captain leading her troops.
    "I can do two more summonings, but they'll be wild. You'll have to take control of the new ones from their wild state."
    Last edited by Sen isSaqqara; 2014-12-11 at 12:35 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
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  25. - Top - End - #445
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    Elara's eyes widen in shock and horror as she emerges from the Painted House. Battle had come to her again, and as always it seemed that the situation had grown another bit worse. One of the few allies they had against the Six was dead - scorched beneath the shining sun. The sight causes revulsion to twist her insides, but another feeling is just behind it, overpowering the brief sickness in an instant. The sensation spills through her core, flooding the mage's body and washing away her fear, her shock, her horror. In its place is an odd, warm feeling. One that feels like dry heat, rising in her chest as she finds herself in a different place, at a different time.

    Or was it the same place? Elara wants to look around, but can't - she recognizes the eyes she is seeing through as Not-Elara's. How she knows it's the same one that placed the scroll in that antediluvian cavern, she isn't sure. Her eyes, and Not-her eyes, move up at the same time, resting on two different suns. The older one isn't as bright, and seems smaller. Elara feels a pleased sensation, and a bit of pride. The sun was recovering well, and the air was warmer. The wind wasn't as harsh, with the weather more mild. The smells-

    The smells. Dead, burnt flesh. The moment of tranquility Elara and this other her have shared is over. Regaining control of herself, the mage looks down, watching the falling, glittering, scorched body. Falling slowly from the sky, sun shining on it. A distant part of Elara's mind notes the effect and makes a simple hypothesis: the gnome had used magic to fly, fleeing upwards to use the sun's glare to his advantage. However, Theral had fire magic at her disposal and had used it to obviously great effect. The flight had failed, and now the flight was failing. An ancient frown mirrors the mage's expression, until Elara moves her eyes to the present threat. For a split second, their emotions run together, exchanging at a rate so fast that the mage is barely aware of the change, the sudden switch of her own feelings still disorienting her. At the end of this loop, her mind buzzes with the thought of the other self that she is somehow of one mind with. Filthy dragon scum.

    Hate and rage. A mixture of two emotions Elara rarely feels, with a strength she has never experienced before. The feeling from before emerges as well, and for the first time the mage feels a desire to kill - not just to end the Six's reign of terror, with an acceptance of the means that may be necessary, but an actual want to end their lives. Starting, of course, with the one in the square. Warmed by the rage within her, the mage strides forwards, for a moment not even caring if the others were still with her. Her fingers twitch, and as Elara's link to the past is served she feels the intensity of her hate solidify between them. She smiles, expression devoid of its normal light, eyes dark with her murderous intent.

    Spoiler: Actions
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    Having another flashback-past-connection-thing as a Free action.

    Then just move up.

    Elara will probably do something like use a Haste scroll once she comes to her senses, but at the moment she's going to try and start this fight ASAP.
    Last edited by PersonMan; 2014-12-11 at 12:29 PM.
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  26. - Top - End - #446
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    It takes a moment for Ben to realize that he is in the Pale Realms. The lack of color, the lack of feelings, the lack of pain. Upon recognizing where he was, though, Ben's memories began flooding back to him. The memory of his death has a strange affect on him. He feels like he should care, but that emotion is so foreign to him in death. Sure, he feels unfulfilled about his unfinished work on the material plane, but nearly everything about Ben in the afterlife feels that kind of emptiness. This is what stasis must feel like, little care for the past, no sense of the future, nothing but The Moment. It feels somewhat like waiting.

    And then a stranger seems to appear behind him, and draws his attention. I guess so, not much left but to begin. Begin what, Ben does not know, but he knew that he would soon find out.

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    Knowledge:Rel check, because who knows what that might turn up - (1d20+11)[30]

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    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    ...

    You're just going to start randomly setting things on fire, aren't you?
    Quote Originally Posted by TechnoScrabble View Post
    ...

    This entire campaign's going to become nothing but partying in a long forgotten world, isn't it?
    In the past, I played Sir Theo Roost.
    I am soon to begin playing his heir, Dora the Destroya

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  27. - Top - End - #447
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    The small pit that had been living in Arran's stomach since the Six had arrived on the scene grows, sucking his stomach and intestines into its gaping morass. Whatever had happened to Ben, he suspected the worst. If so--his friend, his brother, lost. After everything that had happened; now, whatever rules his universe were bound by, or had seemed to be, were broken. His thoughts were scattered, but he tried to keep his mind focused on the one thing that still made sense. Combat.

    After several minutes of travel, he meets the squad in one of the alleyways. "Casters at the back, archers ahead of them. Targets are a half-dragon, Theral, and a whisper gnome, Annas. Everyone focus on the half-dragon first. Archers, casters, spread out--no need to set ourselves up for a fireball, or worse. Casters--start with Rays of Clumsiness, if you've got them. Make 'em clumsier, easier to hit." His orders are a jumbled mess, but such is the state of his mind at the moment. He nods to the squad leader, and takes up his own position with his bow at the rear of the unit, confident that they will fail, but marching onward regardless.
    Last edited by esorscher; 2014-12-12 at 12:11 AM.
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    "When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."

  28. - Top - End - #448
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Calia, Elara, Myr: As Elara strides forward without saying a word, Kyria seems to lose a measure of her confidence. "So what's our plan? Are we just going to walk up to it and ask politely for a duel?" The woman pulls out a small ranged weapon that looks suspiciously like some sort of upgraded crossbow. "Gods be damned, she's not listening. I'm headed up to the roof, to see if I can sneak up on her. Just keep her distracted!" Rushing past you, she begins to clamber up the sides of one of the nearby buildings at an amazing speed. The last of the civilians are gone now, leaving nothing between the three of you and the dragon. Even as Ben continues to float to the ground, Theral turns to see you. Her sword is at the ready, and her teeth are bared. When she speaks, her voice carries the weight of dormant fire.

    "I wasn't quite ten years old when I killed my first man. He was a soldier in the Tiernan army - he would have killed me, given the chance. I remember the look on his face, when the light behind his eyes winked out. Such a sudden change, almost imperceptible really. I remember feeling sorrow, feeling shame. I had stolen from my enemy the most precious gift of all. But I also felt something else. In that moment, I felt powerful for the first time. And I have been chasing that feeling ever since."

    As she finishes speaking, she releases her magic, abruptly transporting thirty feet away. At the speed of thought, she moves again, and is now close enough to Myr to reach out and touch him with one of her talons. More alarmingly, she is well within the range of her massive sword.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    Theral is using her quick cast ability to cast dimension hop twice (one of which is enlarged), moving her 30 ft away, and then into melee range with Myr. She doesn't have any actions left this turn, but she's threatening his space, and is well within range for just about all of her attacks.


    Lirian: "That's alright. Here, help me get these coffins open." Maniakh directs you to a row of older looking graves, at least thirty names across. There must be dozens of bodies buried in this intersection of the Necropolis. In one of the headstones, you can see the etchings of what look like an old family portrait. A man and his two daughters have lain here since before the Collapse. Judging by the name engraved above the picture, their family name is Vertinix. Behind you, the clatter of bones as your tireless followers trail in your wake.

    Suddenly, you hear another sound: metal on metal. Turning, you see a pair of massive suits of armor approaching, each at least ten feet tall and covered in runes of protection and warding. The necromancer sees them as well, and moves towards them while barking out the command word. The armored figures stop in their tracks, as though unsure quite what to do next. Slowly, they begin to turn around and walk away. Maniakh chuckles. "The infamous Guardians. They were appointed to guard these graves, and they can't even be bothered to stop thieves like us from robbing them when the time comes. Sometimes I wonder what the world's coming to, you know?"


    The Dead Guy: The chamber you arrive in on the other side is in no uncertain words, impossible. For one, the simple wooden portal has become a grand worked obsidian archway, complete with stoic angels barring your exit. The facets and windows on all sides of the chamber somehow show you rooms that are identical to this one, but fundamentally different in a way you can't quite discern. The chamber itself is largely circular and consists of a flat stone floor at the base, with raised benches forming concentric rings around you like a kind of joyless arena. Great pillars hold up the roof, and as your gaze moves upwards, you find yourself meeting your own eyes. It appears that the sky itself has been formed into a great mirror in here.

    The benches are filled with people of all sorts: humans and elves, gnomes and goblins alike. They come from all walks of life, rich and poor. Many of them carry grievous wounds, although several appear to be in a better condition. None of them seem to be able to perceive each other, as they all sit in perfect silence, staring straight at you. There are other figures in the crowd, however: emissaries on behalf of all the different deities. They seem fully aware of everything that goes on around them, although most keep a polite distance from one another. Several of them stare at you in something akin to curiosity.

    Directly ahead of you, the benches are divided by a great stone dais, upon which sits a massive black gem of some sort. At least, until it moves, an arm rippling out of its essence to rest neatly on its throne. The being emits no light, and yet you can see its smooth contours, not unlike a great sculpture or chandelier. A gaping hole opens up near the center of the entity, which addresses you in a unknown, and yet strangely familiar voice.

    "Now begins the trial for the soul of the deceased, one 'Obaben Ambleworthy'. The proceedings and particulars of this case will determine the nature and duration of the deceased's afterlife. At the end of the case, the heralds will decide where to ultimately place the deceased. Does the deceased understand everything that has been said?"
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2014-12-13 at 12:39 PM.
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    Small Justice


    An ongoing web serial about politics, vengeance, and miniature lizards. Go check it out!

    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.

    "Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in the face of certain defeat."

  29. - Top - End - #449
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Sen isSaqqara's Avatar

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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    Lirian chuckles, nodding in agreement.
    "Tell me about it! I mean, here I am, trying to use my magic to change the world for the better, and I have to resort to graverobbing to make any progress. I'm also magically bound to do so, I guess, but that's more or less besides the point. If I weren't doing this, I wouldn't be making any headway at all, and that's the important bit."
    She directs her undead servants to begin opening the graves, and takes a moment to reflect on her actions.
    "Are we planning on returning these bodies to their graves when we're done? I have no problems with using them, any more than a warrior might have with using an old sword from a tavern wall in a time of need, but I do feel enough respect for the dead that I'd like to bring them back to their places of honour when we're done with them. It only seems right."
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    Yeah, DreamingMage honestly thinks he is a god. Over the years, I've found it best just to go with it.
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    Previous Usernames: DreamingMage, Zeno Desaqqara
    Credit to araveugnitsuga.
    Credit to DarkCorax.
    Credit to me.
    Credit to me.

  30. - Top - End - #450
    Ettin in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Death's End IC II

    A scream rises and dies in her throat. She knows that body, and every fragment of her being rebels at the knowledge. She made herself a mask to wear for the Six though, when they met Maniakh. She slips it on, in her mind. It's not quite the same, but still, she thinks Ben would-would have approved. Gods. She doesn't want to think about that right now.

    The scream turns into a hollow laugh. "Gods above, do you give that spiel every time you kill someone? I think it would get old after a while." Get her angry, get her furious, drag her attention to someone who can take it and away from those who cannot. If only she had been able, been out here to do it a few seconds beforehand.... "You must be Theral. I've heard about you. I suppose every team needs its dumb muscle." She flourishes her sword as she approaches, casually putting herself between the fragile Elara and the towering Theral. "You have terrible taste, by the way. Loque was a bit of a wet blanket. Though I suppose that'd be your type. Wouldn't want the new kid to be able to out-think you, after all." She stops in front of Theral, smirking. A challenge. "Would you?"

    Spoiler
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    Swift Action: Switch to Vigor Aura. This is gonna suck.
    Move Action: Move four squares up right next to Theral.
    Free Action: Taunt the living daylights out of her. Bluff - (1d20+15)[18]
    Standard Action: Ready. If Theral attacks or tries to cast a spell, I breathe Acid in her face. Reflex DC 18 halves damage. (3d6)[10] acid.

    I should get some metabreath feats.
    Last edited by Ajadea; 2014-12-13 at 06:37 PM.

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