Shadowflux Risen

[KuH]

Fryst

Damn - why did I lead - this always ends in disaster!! Growling in low, measured, carefully enunciated tones Fryst says to his companions: "Let's just stay very, very still and very, very quiet and hope the excitement dies down."

He proceeds to follow his own advice ... a brown-skinned little halfling stuck like a limpet to the rock wall, looking cautiously upwards at the caves above.

[Avernaith]

Sparky

"Fryst...that's not gonna help us now. We're already trolling on a line here, and Nivlan and Kahlynn can't get to us to help us. You lead them up the cliff as quick as possible, I'll try to keep the birdies distracted!" Sparky pushes himself and his rope a bit to the side, to give people room to pass him, then carefully reaches a hand into his pack to pull out his hand mirror. "Maybe if I distract them, Niv and Kahlynn can get past me safely." He makes a quick judgement of angle, and starts flicking the mirror around to catch the rays of sunlight and bounce them back towards the one that looks like it's hunting.

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

Mere seconds from an unnoticed climbing group to a very well noticed and about-to-be-picked-from-the-wall party, Gauran is taken by surprise by the instant ferocity of the winged lizards.

"By the infinite layers of the Abyss! What are they doing?", he exclaims, "Get on with it you fools! Don't hang in there on the wall! Reach the top!"

He begins pacing about, his gaze intent on the scene above, ready to intervene on behalf of any comrade that should endeavour to develop an instant desire for flying straight down.

[KuH]

Fryst

They know nothing about the reactions of natural creatures ... and I guess I haven't done very well either. "OK, Jorme, let's move out and up. Keep your climbing motions slow and non-threatening."

Moving so stealthily that you almost don't notice him, Fryst creeps up the rock, staying well away from caves and spinning the rope out behind him as he goes.

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Hide check rolled in dice thread ... yes, I still expect to be seen ... just not noticed or ignored.

[PolkaBear]

Nivlan Kirk

Nivlan's stomach knotted as he watched the danger his companions were braving to set a route for the group's poor climbers--like he. He prayed to Pelor for their safety.

[blue chicken]

Yorkin curses under his breath as he cranes his neck to view his new companions in their latest predicament.

"Sea and stars damn them critters! Looks like yer spells're doin' some good, though, Mister Lock...see 'em wheelin' around, all confused like? I can't see how our friends up there are gonna' make it all the way ta' the top, though, not with that many o' the beasties wingin' all o'er 'em. And that big 'un! 'E don't seem too impressed by yer tricks, no siree!"

Indeed, even as Lock's magic bursts into existence, a cloud of orbiting lizards breaks off from their pursuit, drawn toward the shimmering pattern of the gnome's power. Their simple minds seem overwhelmed by the fascinating colors, and they wheel and soar around the balls and screens of pulsating light as though transfixed.

Higher up the cliff face, the creatures pursuing Fryst seem to hesitate, crying racously a few times as though befuddled. In their primitive brains they know that their prey is lurking nearby, but between the halfling's near-imperceptible movements and diligent efforts to blend in, they soon lose interest, winging further away toward prey requiring less effort to spot.

A whimper interupts the sudden comparitive stillness, and the small voice of Jorme drifts up to Fryst's ears as he climbs, some ten feet above the younger and smaller halfling. When he turns to look, he spies Jorme crouched on a small perch, flattened against the stone as though he were attempting to slip through the cracks into the rock itself. The small tremors in the ex-lookout's muscles clearly convey a limb-numbing terror, and when he notices Fryst turning to look, his head snaps upward, panic in his eyes at the sudden movement. Recognizing Fryst, his terror abates somewhat, though his reedy voice and child-like face give away the depth of his fear and distress.

"M-M-Mr. Fryst...? What're w-w-we gonna d-do? W-we're s-s-so hiiiigh...this isn't like a ship's m-m-m-mast at all! And those c-creatures! They'll pull us off the wall like gulls picking for scraps!"

Near the end of his short monologue, Jorme's eyes go as wide as dinner plates and his voice cracks into a high, panicky squeal, losing its terrified stutter in the face of pure visceral fear. Looking back down, he emits an additional muted squeak and crouches further into the niche he's wedged himself into.

Back on the ground, Yorkin's relief melts into shock, and then near-frantic fear. Still looking up, he catches the tell-tale flash of the tropical sun off of Sparky's mirror, and the quick response of the orbiting lizards as several of them break from the larger flock to streak toward the precariously perched lightfoot. After a second of shocked inaction, he cups his hands around his mouth and bellows in his finest stentorian sailor voice.

"Sparky, lad! What're ye' DOIN'? PUT THAT MIRROR AWAY, BOY! AIN'T YE NEVER SEEN A GULL AN' A LOOSE COIN? THEY'LL BE ON YE' LIKE BARNACLES! YER ON'Y AGITATIN' 'EM WORSE! PUT IT AWAY, QUICK!"

Elsewhere on the cliff, Adur manages to reassume his human form on a sheltered cranny and begins to tap the forces of nature, preparing a spell of some sort to help make good the escape of his comrades.

Snark-

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You're as close as you like to whatever party member you choose...they're not that spread out, and you've got the agility of a bird. You could have landed pretty much anywhere, and you're wide open for spells. I left it up to you which to choose, as they're likely to have very different outcomes.

Shael, meanwhile, skitters a bit out to the side of the group, drawing the attention of a fair number of the squawking pterosaurs with him, including the large red that seems to be the focal point of the animals' social structure. He traverses the rough surface of the wall easily, the demonic power of his symbiote sticking him to the rock as easily as though the elf were on hands and knees, skittering across level ground. Despite his mental barriers, an alien voice still invades his conscious thought, loaded with an enthusiastic amusement for the drama at hand.

Oh, come now, Shael. At least this is interesting, eh? Haven't seen creatures like these in...millenia, probably. And you'd shut me out? When I'm so graciously helping you climb? If you really meant it, I suppose I could just ignore you next time you try to wrestle a bit of my power for your use. Or...even right now, if you'd like.

A ripple seems to pass through Shael's body, the clinging energies failing first in one hand and then the other, returning a second later just in time to leave him dangling from the wall as a similar pulse disrupts the power in his feet and toes for an instant.

Though I daresay that wouldn't be quite so entertaining. Come now. You've got the overlord following you...I wonder what THESE taste like? We didn't get to sample the fish-beasts. Surely you're dying to know how a lizard-flapper tickles the tongue?

[KuH]

Fryst

"Jorme - you're doing right. Stay still until the birds quiet down. Hold the rope if you need reassurance. I'm going to get a secure path set to the top." Like I should have done in the first place.

As he climbs, continuing to try to blend in, Fryst looks around, trying to judge which caves are empty, which block a straight upwards path and where he can fasten the rope well to set a route to the top.

If he sees what he thinks is an empty cave straight above him, maybe even with a good place to tie off a rope, he will head straight towards that ... moving quietly and stealthily. If I get properly set up in a cave I can even provide a distraction while other people are climbing.

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

Shael gasps a ragged breath, slipping and scrabbling on the surface to pull himself back into positon. Don't do that again. Ever.

Then FIGHT.

Heart pounding at his near death experience, Shael swears under his breath. Fine. We Fight.

His invocation restored, he resumes his scrabbling for some 20 ft. more on his current course downward, before another ripple shakes his grip. Snarling in fury, he spins to face the monster, perching on the nearest ledge, braced on one hand and two legs. Eldritch energy flickers around his fist. His green eyes glow fiercely beneath the brim of his dark hat as they track the circling pterosaur—the red-crested "overlord" which his devilish companion pointed out to him, waiting for its dive with a ready fist.

"HAPPY?"

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IF it's in range, I'll attack it now. If it's out of range, I'll ready an action to nail it when it approaches. 28 to hit, for 18 damage. Threatened a critical! 14 to confirm critical! That SHOULD hit it's touch AC, for an extra 12 damage. Meaning it takes 30.

[The_Snark]

Adur

Adur clings to the rock face; perching on a sheer cliff is one thing when he has wings, and quite another without them. Even in the mountains, sheer drops like this are uncommonl—and best avoided.

As some of them begin to break off to dive at the others, he realizes he had better do something soon, and makes a snap decision—perhaps it will work, perhaps not, but he has to do something. Most birds won't go out in a rainstorm if they can help it... He begins the chant.

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Casting Cloudburst over the area most of the climbers are on. If possible, Adur will try to position it so that the effect ends a few feet away from the rock, but if he can't do that and cover all his companions, it'll just have to get the rocks wet. Adur's trying to prevent them from flying so easily, but hoping not to make it harder to climb.

Full-round action, hundred-foot radius.

[blue chicken]

Swirling, roiling, scrambling, clutching: The scene on the wall is chaos, as both pterosaurs and adventurers attempt to advance their own devices in the face of activity from their antagonists. The entropy of the scene is noteworthy enough in and of itself, and as the magically gifted members of the ascending group bring the force of their gifts to bear, the disorder increases to near-epic proportions. A pall of confusion descends. Several events seem to happen at precisely the same instant, though in reality each seperate instance is blended together in the minds of its participants only by virtue of the instability of the situation as a whole.

Low on the wall, the patriarch pterosaur dives at Shael, fully expecting to rip the fleshy intruder from the wall for a swift tumble to the rocks below.

Higher up, Adur gestures and bellows an intonation, and the clouds in the area seem to mimic the swirling motions of his arms, building into a dark, ominous storm front.

Jorme, still horrified, and not at all reassured by Fryst's lack of action, screams again, and a colorful flying lizard dives at his meagerly defended niche in the rocks.

Sparky, ever selfless, continues his flashy display, attracting the attention of a fair number of circling creatures with his mirrored light show.

From there, events cascade into a slew of sensory perceptions that each individual companion would no doubt struggle to sort out even at the best of times, with the clearest of heads. Now, however, time seems to slow for a moment as the cruel will of Shadowflux again lays its heavy hand on the luckless group from the Outside.

Shael's demonic energies pulse forth in a blinding, coruscating beam-ray of greenish lightning, striking his airborne attacker with a sickening sense of rending, as the eldritch fire blasts through the creature's bill and wings. Its muscular control gone, the ruined body of the proud beast glides a few feet further before tilting off to one side as the membranes of its wings smolder away. After a few seconds the charred remnants of its body, still twitching feebly and arcing with residual power from Shael's massive assault slam into the cliff face, exploding in a shower of veridian sparks and light.

Up the wall, responding with primal fury to the last distorted cries of their stricken clan leader, groups of pterosaurs dive mercilessly upon Jorme and Sparky. Though he manages to dip and dodge around the first few marauders, Sparky's awkward tied-in position prevents him from diving and ducking much and it isn't long before several of the creatures catch pieces of the plucky halfling in their bills. Still, roped in as he is, the tenacious lightfoot clings resolutely to to the wall, though in order to maintain his grip he drops the mirror he has been wielding. It spins toward the rocks below, along with a fine mist of blood from the wounds the pterosaurs have opened on his limbs and back.

Sparky-

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Thank goodness for a decent climb check, eh? No Dex bonus to AC while you're climbing, and you were getting attacked by five critters at once...-8 to your HP from two hits, and you've lost your grip on your mirror. It's steel, though, so it shouldn't shatter when it hits. Just a consolation.

Nearer Fryst, Jorme isn't so lucky. Having neither the protections of a finely-crafted chain shirt to shield his vulnerable back nor the luxury of a clear head, it takes only one well-placed dive for an infuriated reptile to pluck the unfortunate youth from the rocks. Though he struggles feebly for a few moments as powerful talons close around his shoulders and dig into his arms, he can do very little to aid himself as his powerful captor, several times his size, strokes the air with its poweful wings and pulls out of its dive, carting its victim higher up the cliff face. A thin wail issues from the horrified victim's mouth, and as Jorme looks back at the diminishing wall his hopeless eyes lock onto Fryst. Through the chaos and distance sound is confused, but the jungle shaman imagines that he catches his name howled pitifully as his younger fellow hobbit (<----Edit: Hobbit? Someone's been reading LotR...mmm.) is spirited away into the upper air, disappearing with his captor into a high cave far from the group's planned course.

And finally, as Adur's summoned energies build to a climax, a brisk wind from the sea freshens. The scents of salt and lagoon decay waft up to the climbers, riding the moisture of a cold breeze billowing up from below against the usual laws of nature. Within seconds, the breezes condense, forming a perfect miniature of the grand spectacle of nature renewing itself. Moisture builds upon moisture, and within seconds the area immediately around Adur and the other climbers seems to thicken and darken, a small thunderhead forming as quiet rumbles of diminished thunder echo out. A localized downpour ensues immediately afterward, the cold rain drenching both the projecting backs of companions and the circling bodies of lizards as the druid's magic runs its course. Thanks to Adur's careful calculations, however, only a small portion of the water from his magical cloud hits the wall, and though it is a close thing, the climbers still on the wall find gripping the rock little harder than before despite the cold wetness of the rain pouring down just inches away on their shoulder and backs.

Almost as it began, the moment of compressed temporal reality fades. Now faced with a dead leader, a dangerous threat in the form of a demonically inspired elf, and a shower capable of numbing cold-blooded limbs with its chill water, the wheeling clouds of avian reptiles retreat, most heading back to their caves. Some, though, wing their ways off over the island, and one or two large specimens turn toward the cave which Jorme recently vanished into.

Shortly thereafter Adur's thundercloud fades, its energies apparently sapped by the ambient conditions. It diminishes until all that remains is a screen of fog, and even that sinks down moistly to the bottom of the cliffs in just moments.

The flying terrors gone, the silence that falls on the wall is eerie.

As though an angry spirit were watching, judging the merit of these insolent new fleas who so boldly defile the sacred flanks of such a proud and ancient island.

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

Pacing to the left, to the right, and back again, never taking his eyes from the skies and the cliff, Gauran sees the avian threats closing in soon enough.
While the biggest threat is eliminated with but one blast of eldritch energy, the saurans attacking the halflings have no such dire odds to overcome.

Diving to take the Halflings from their perches, the Goliath's thoughts form seemingly all too slow...

No, no, no, no, NO!

"Look out!!! They are coming for you!!!"

A second later one Halfling is still clinging to the cliff and the other is gone, with the Goliath frustrated by his inability to intervene still at the base of the cliff.

I should never have allowed these little nits to take the lead. These birds wouldn't stand a chance to take ME from the wall. The small folk's blood is on your hands, Gauran Darkstrider, another ally you have murdered. What a delight that must be for the tormenting fiends of the abyss...

The rain pours over his face, but to the Goliath it seems as if he is never going to become clean...

[The_Snark]

Adur

Adur sighs, clinging to the rock wall to avoid falling. The thought that the rain from the spell ought to have lasted longer, long enough maybe to get them all up, runs through his mind as he gazes over towards the cave. The elf said magic is strange on the island. Maybe that's it.

It made sense that the creatures had taken the smallest, and possibly the most afraid. Only natural, he thinks wearily, to lose one to predators. It doesn't sit well with him, but the covering rain was gone, and if he stirred up the birds again trying to steal Jorme back...

A stray memory strikes him, and swiftly, he takes the form of a bird again, leaping back out into the air and swooping for the ground. With a sudden flutter, he halts his dive, returning to his human shape right in front of Lock. His gaze is intent, resembling that of the hunting bird he was a second ago. "You said you could make me invisible?" he asks abruptly, peering down at the gnome.

[KuH]

Fryst

Nooo!! Soooonnnaaaaa!!! Plastered to the wall, Fryst looks up in anguish as Jorme gets carried off. His muscles tremble in anger. Go!!! SAVE HER!!!! NO!! The whole tribe is relying on me! And that's NOT HER!! He looks back to be sure Sparky is firmly stuck to the rope and in safety.

Fryst clings to the rock another moment, and then slowly, quietly, continues his stealthy ascent, being careful to move very quietly this time and taking the lead alone until he runs out of items to tie or peg the rope with, at which point he motions Sparky up to join him.

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

The elf stares grimly at the smoking charnel that is spiraling down to the beach below, and runs his gaze over the scorch marks on the cliff wall. His eyes flicker and glow green, burning upwards toward the cave in which Jorme vanished.

Felt good, didn't it? Sweet, pure power—the fleshy beings of this plane living and dying at our whim?

Jorme. We couldn't save him.

Ah, the food chain, mortal. Death has a pattern. It conforms to laws as surely as does magic or nature. It is predictable, explicable, and logical. The weak and unfortunate die. The strong survive.

Then we will see which that birdlizard is—strong or weak.

With a snarl, the elf begins to bound up the cliff once more, cutting a beeline for the cave into which Jorme was whisked. Green energy snaps around his palms and crackles up his forearms as he pulls himself smoothly over the rock wall, waving around obstacles.

You want to fight? To kill? Then you will kill as I say and for the ends I choose! I am not killing to survive, or for the pleasure of the hunt—I am killing to save... to save a friend.

A friend? Did the halfling ever say two words together to you?

No matter. Is it wrong to want to protect others on principle? I would do the same for a total stranger!

Would you really? Jorme is dead. By the time you reach that cave, he will be dead and partially eaten—his blood and entrails smeared across the floor and staining that reptile's beak. What possible reason to follow? To loot his corpse? To avenge his death? To slaughter the monster's young? You go to kill, Shael, not to save.

With a low growl, the elf twists of his course toward the cave, without slowing, hauling himself up the rock towards the top of the cliff.

Ah... you cannot win with me, Shael. You cannot win.

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I'm moving back to the initial course we had plotted and proceeding upwards.

[KuH]

Fryst

Fryst turns his eyes towards Shael doing what he is not - avenging his fellow. That should be me! No, wait!! The climb is too far that way ... but if I went up to the top I could rappel downwards ... that would be much faster!!. Fryst turns his eyes upwards, and sees if there is a faster, more direct route up from where he hangs at the moment, and starts to climb with more of a thought to speed than hiding.

[blue chicken]

Yorkin's eyes go wide in shock and horror. Salt...Gigson...Merev...and now Jorme? His mouth works soundlessly for a moment as his right hand draws his sword from its sheath, a bitter reflex against the utter helplessness of the situation. A sound and a growl mingle in his throat, and as the flames of rage flicker in his heart his eyes track Shael's progress across the wall.

Muttering quietly to himself, he slams his blade helplessly into the rocks of the wall, generating a shower of sparks as he mutters.

"Go, elf, go! Ye showed them beasties what was what just then..."

Turning to Lock, he points up, grim satisfaction on his features.

"Look there, gnome. Up he goes...I dunno what sort o' magic 'e wields, but Shael seems like a force ta' be reckoned with, at the least."

Looking back up, his monologue breaks off in mid-sentence as Shael alters his direction and heads up the rocks.

"Shouldn't be long afore 'e...eh? What? Where in the nine hells...SHAEL! WHAT DO YE' THINK YER DOIN', SIRRAH! GET YERSELF UP IN THAT CAVE! JORMEY DON'T STAND A CHANCE AGAIN' THOSE BIRDY-CRITTERS!"

Now desperate, Yorkin's eyes go wide as Adur lands and transforms. Lock's display from earlier is just now beginning to fade from the air, and with the druid's timely reminder, the enraged sailor seems to recall that Lock, too, is a force to be reckoned with, in his own right.

"Ferget invisibility, man! Mister Lock! I seen ye' go floatin' off the deck just afore the Karil grounded on this rock. Can ye' do that again? When we were in port once, I saw a group o' travelin' tricksters pull a crazy stunt...and now I'm thinkin' maybe we could do the same thing! If'n ye' can make some o' us float like that...say, maybe ye, meself, and Gauran, there, what's ta' stop our friend Adur here a' towin' us to that cave? I dunno the details, and the bird they used in the show I seen was the real thing, not a druid with feathers...but...can ye' do it? Salt explained the whole thing ta' me once, see...as long as ye can keep us off the ground and risin', we're hardly any weight at all for a bird to drag along...he's not pullin' hardly a thing, since we'd just be hangin' in the air like so much fluff!"
His gaze, so desperate and filled with remorse, flickers unsteadily between Lock, Gauran, and Adur.

"Maybe ye can't do it. I dunno much about magic, and it could be beyond any o' ye. We hafta' try somethin', though...maybe if you've got a spell you could use to speed us along, or even haul one er' more o' us along as we climb by ourselves, quick as ya' like...but we can't just give up on Jormey! Not...we...we can't! I'll climb up there meself if ye don't have a mind to help me!"

Not even waiting for an answer, the half-crazed Yorkin sheaths his blade and draws a smaller one, striding toward the cliff face, obviously intending to claw his way up the rocks to save his last living friend.

Edit for players -

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Oopsies, forget the red text. Also, for the record, the cave in question is about 380 feet up from ground level, and 40 feet from the climbing and ground parties laterally.

[The_Snark]

Adur

"I could do that," Adur says, looking a bit dubious, "but we don't want to stir up these birds again." He looks up, in time to see Shael crawling back to the rope. Fryst, on the other hand-

He cups his hands to his mouth. "Fryst! Wait! Wait a minute!" He doesn't know if the little halfling will listen; Fryst reminds him of an animal, and angry or wounded animals often do things a more cautious animal wouldn't. He goes on in a lower tone, but still fast; he doesn't know how much time Jorme will have.

"I can go into that cave and get him right back out again. If they can't see me, they won't be able to catch me, and I can distract them before I go. You see?"

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

Shael winces at the sailor's mournful cries. Seablinded fool! Your friend is dead already! He can't be saved!

But he can be avenged...

The elf snarls savagely, and strikes the rock with a closed fist, sending a shower of pebbles and eldritch sparks fanning out below him. I thought you told me vengeance was pointless.

Will killing the monster make you feel better?

No! Maybe. I don't know!

Only one way to find out, mortal.

Shael shakes his head angrily, but turns once more, making smooth progress towards the cave once more, without breaking stride.

"DON'T BOTHER ADUR! IF HE'S ALIVE, I CAN SAVE HIM."

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Pointless. Pointless. POINTLESS! I'm making progress towards the cave again—I should be relatively close, since I can do the 380 ft. from the ground in 1 minute, and have been climbing for some time before the battle started.

[AmoDman]

Eleberry Lockwidge

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Sorry for the delay! I am assuming my magics were dismissed? ...waste of a 2nd level spell!

Lock winces at the further developements, cursing in his mind again, he opens his mouth to respond to Adur until Yorkin becomes distraught, continuing, however, he says, "Yes, though this situations is fast deteriorating...I can produce a couple of invisibility effects, but the moment you attack, cast a spell, anything of the sort, it will dissappear. It's for recconaisance, mostly," Glancing up again the predicament, he sighs as he knows he'll have to do this. The boy, Jorme...always getting himself in the way, he moves over to Gauran and goes on, "What we need now is speed, go Adur, see what you and Shael can do! Darkstrider? Climb fast, you'll be as nimble as a spider soon as long as, well..." Lock pulls out a small bit of rocky substance and a tiny spider, "You eat this."

Lock begins chanting a few words over the Goliath and waves his hands in front of him, waiting for the barbarian to intake the substances to complete the Spiderclimb spell.

[The_Snark]

Adur

Adur looks up again, and seeing that Shael is skittering towards the cave and Lock is preparing to send Gauran up, shrugs. It seems we'll be attacking in a pack. Hoping fervently that the birds are no longer watching them so avidly from their caves, he shifts his form once more, taking to the air and struggling upwards on the updrafts.

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It'll take Adur exactly one minute to reach the cave mouth, since he can go up 40 feet each round or 80 feet laterally. Depending on where the others are by then, he might go into the cave or try to land somewhere near it.

[KuH]

Fryst

Fryst listens to the shouts from below and lifts his head up to look around. Logic is clearly warring with his animal nature as he looks towards the cave, gauging the distance, then up towards the top of the cliff and back towards the bottom. Which way is faster? Up and rappel back down? Straight over to the cave? Think of the tribe, think of the tribe, think of the tribe ...

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Info on distances in each direction for Fryst?

[Tyrel_Aurelian]

Darkstrider

The situation clearly turning more to his liking, Gauran takes a look at the spider squirming in Lock's fingers.

"I've eaten worse in my days!", and he grabs the spider and gulps it down, a distinctive crunch marking its demise. The rocky substance vanishes only moments later.

Immediately Gauran turns half to the cliff, almost trembling with the effort of patience until Lock finishes his spell.

"It is time for those bird-things to meet some real rock!"

OOC

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The second Lock finishes that spell I'm up and away - it is almost sad that the spell doesn't make me any faster than I am without it, but the added security is certainly welcome. So, if there WERE any climb check to be made, assume me to take 10, for a total of 30. That should be enough for any check regarding that cliff. Gauran will be using the most direct route to the cave currently holding the abducted halfling, passing all threats underway. Gauran will ignore ANY melee challenge in favour of reaching the cave as soon as possible, with the notable exception of a grapple attempt. If a bird tries to pry me from the wall I'll give him a piece of my mind - in utterly physical form

[blue chicken]

Yorkin's jaw drops as Lock finishes his spell and Gauran begins to climb, the arcane aid rendering him as nimble as Shael, now scampering across the rocks high above. He looks back, his lip curled. Rage turns to fury as Adur, too, vanishes back into the sky in the guise of a large bird. Faced with only Lock and the two ground-bound healers, he regards them all wildy for a brief instant before returning to the wall with a snarl. He plants a foot and slams his long knife into a chink in the rock, hauling himself up after Gauran, hardly slower than the huge Goliath despite his lack of magical assistance. Finding footholds and handholds in the rough surface of the wall and pulling himself through the rougher spots with reckless lunges and liberal use of his once-keen blade, he struggles upward, calling back down as he goes, rage suffusing his voice as it slowly fades with increasing altitude.

"Some help you lot are! Think ol' Yorkin's useless, do ye'? Just cause I ain't magic, like you people, or huge like that'n above me, or tiny n' crazy like them halflings ye' brung along! I'll show the lot a' ye'! Jormy's me matey, and I'll..."

His rant continues is the same vein as he continues his risky ascent. Clearly, the hearty sailor is venting his own feelings of inadequacy, raving against the only people with a real chance of saving his friend and putting himself into grave peril at the same time.

Higher up the cliff, Sparky hangs motionless, most likely checking the ropes and harnesses (as well as his wounds) to make sure that his recent brush with death did not damage anything too seriously.

Fryst, on the other hand, scrambles up the last seventy feet or so and pulls himself over the edge with the frantic grace and scrabbling efficiency of a feline climbing away from rising water. Over the rocky edge, he is confronted with a solid wall of jungle growth rising directly in front of him and reaching out in all directions as far as he can see. An aural assault of insects, birds, and small creatures in the thick foliage drives at his conditioned ears. The familiar sounds tell him that this is, indeed, a jungle as he suspected...though one that seems...somehow more primal than those of his homeland. Quickly running along the precipice, he espies Shael just coming to a ledge some twenty feet below. The elf, aided by his own mysterious powers, seems to have been making superb progress, and is now easing up near to the jagged opening of the cave, some four feet tall and five paces or so across. Both companions can hear a racous cacophony coming from within, and amidst the squawking and strident calls each privately imagines that he can hear the occasional tortured wail and gurgling squeal intermingled with the rest of the inscrutable sounds. Adur, meanwhile, flapping powerfully, nears the opening as well, just as Fryst's spiky visage peeps over the lip of the ascent.

Far below, still a good minute's climbing from the entrace, Gauran continues his smooth progress. Yorkin, against the odds, seems to be scrambling along well enough some distance below him, nearly falling several times but always managing to catch himself at the last instant.

Above everything, the lingering malice of the preceeding moments seems to intensify. Whether the product of Adur's mysteriously curtailed weather modification or merely the whim of the ominous island itself, the skies seem to be taking on the muted hues of clouds before a storm, and the breezes that had heretofore been graciously cooling the area swiftly fade away to nothing.

The very rocks seem to be holding their breath, and even the waves crashing onto the strand are hushed. Silence, hardly marred even for the rush of sounds issuing from the cave mouth, flows over the companions like thick, dark wine.

Wine the color of blood, from a vintage of malice not intended for the untested pallates of invasive mortals.

[KuH]

Fryst

"Rope is safe!" shouts Fryst over the edge after hastily looping the end of the rope from the spool twice around a tree at the top. His practiced eyes rapidly scan the familiar terrain for immediate threats as he scurries along the top lip.

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Assuming that he is indeed using the spool of endless rope, he will quickly sling another loop around a tree just above the cave/ledge and throw the spool over the cliff to hang down by the cave entrance. If this is wrong, then I will correct the post later.

When he reaches the top of the cliff just above the ledge, he disappears from view again for a moment, and then reappears with the spool of rope in his hand. "Look out below! Use this to climb!!"He shouts and then throws the spool of rope arcing outwards from the cliff. It flies through the air, spinning rope as it goes. You can see that his intent is to have a line of rope hanging vertically down the cliff passing directly over the ledge where poor Jorme has been taken.

As the line spins out and his planned route for a fast descent hopefully takes place, Fryst stands off to the side, not even watching, but instead concentrating on murmuring a few words to whatever god of barbarian destruction he must worship.

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Cast shillelagh on staff.

[The_Snark]

Adur

Adur glides forwards to the ledge just outside the cave, glad now that the others are within sight. The sudden oppressive calm, as though some great force is being surpressed by the air, is a sure sign of an approaching storm to him, and his instinct is to get under cover quickly; in the mountains, storms are deadly out in the open, and he can't imagine it's any better on a sheer cliff face. The sight of others is a comfort. At least we need not worry about rousing the birds again. Animals know better than to leave shelter in foul weather...

As he drops onto the ledge leading up to the cave, Adur's silhouette shifts once more as he returns to a shape capable of forming words. He faces the cave, beginning to chant in a strange language. Nearer the cave, there is the ghost of a breeze, colder than the sea breezes which just faded away, and the air begins to freeze solid in places, spreading outwards to form two shapes.

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Landing on the ledge, which is hopefully a 5-ft step? Shapechange back into a human, and start casting Conjure Ice Beast III, as a full-round action. Summoning a pair of icy hippogriffs, as detailed below:

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Ice Hippogriff:
Large Construct (Cold)
Hit Dice: 3d10+15 (31 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 50 ft (no fly speed)
Armor Class: 17 (-1 size, +2 Dex, +6 natural), touch 11, flat-footed 15
Base Attack/Grapple: +2/+12
Attack: Claw +7 melee (1d4+6 (half cold half slashing) +1d6 cold)
Full Attack: 2 claws +7 melee (1d4+6 (half cold half slashing) +1d6 cold) and bite +2 melee (1d8+3 (half cold half slashing) +1d6 cold)
Space/Reach: 10 ft/5 ft
Special Attacks: None
Special Qualities: Construct traits, fire vulnerability, sonic/bludgeoning vulnerability
Saves: Fort +1, Ref +3, Will +1
Abilities: Str 22, Dex 15, Con -, Int -, Wis 10, Cha 1
Skills: None
Feats: None

Sonic/bludgeoning vulnerability: Takes +50% damage from sonic and bludgeoning damage, and must make a Fortitude save (DC=half of damage dealt) each time it takes sonic or bludgeoning damage. On a failure, the ice beast shatters.

Adur's creating them next to the cave mouth, and ordering them to enter and protect the halfling as soon as they appear.

[Avernaith]

Sparky

Wow. They sure are pretty. I hope Miss Kahlynn gets my mirror. It's prolly busted from the fall. Good thing it wasn't glass. I'd hate to have bad luck. With a final, longing glance to the base of the cliff, Sparky turns his eyes up and begins a fast-paced, almost risky ascent slightly ahead of poor, doomed Yorkin. But in place of Yorkin's apparent manic grimace, Sparky wears a chipper smile, only slightly marred by the bit of red he has on him from the recent attack. He whistles a merry tune as he rapidly ascends, stopping only to check his safety gear and reset the ascenders when needed.

"Almost there Fryst. I think I know a way to get Kahlynn and Nivlan up without them needing to climb. Is that really a spool of endless rope up there? I have *so* got an idea!"

Swinging up over the edge himself, Sparky dusts off his slightly tattered clothing, clears most of the blood off of his face and shirt, then turns to smile at his fellow (if slightly different) halfling. "Endless rope, right? We can make a rope sling and haul them up. It's all about leverage. And if we have Darkstrider to help us, we don't even need that. I'm hungry. I hope we stop for breakfast soon." Looking over the edge he frowns slightly, composure slipping just the tiniest bit as he looks over the area Jorme was clinging to when he was taken. "Chickens here are pretty darn mean. And ugly too."

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Do I need to make lots of Climbing rolls? Just lemme know how many and I'll have Kah post them. My luck is, as always, horrible when it comes to online rolls

[Kahlynn]

Kahlynn

... watches the glittering disc of metal fall down the cliff face, catching the rays of the faltering sun and reflecting them in arcs on the long ... long descent. Marking its falling place, she hurries over to pick it up and waits at the bottom of the cliff for the rope to come within reach.
" I feel much better now, Locke, don't you? Did you see? I'm quite certain it was a sign. Light be with us. Everything will be just fine." The last few words come out a bit strained, as she adjusts her pack on her back and looks way ... way up.

Beginning her ascent, she hums quietly to herself, steadfastly ignoring the singed, fluttering bits of ... something drifting down from above, and the odd, pleasantly disturbing scent of broasted chicken. "Careful down below, I'm truly not very good at this ..."

There's a light on
over my head, my Lord
There's a light on
over my head, my Lord
Let it shine, let it shine
Although it may not be
the only one
Let it shine, shine, shine

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Man, I love these spoiler things! It's like you have a secret, and everyone knows you have a secret, even if you have nothing secret to say at all! Taking tens on my climbing checks unless someone wants to haul my slow butt up the cliff.

[Annarrkkii]

Shael Greyswan

The elf straightens as he crests the rise, adjusting his jacket with dainty fingers, brushing dust from his lapel, and snugging his hat firmly in place. With a grimace, he turns his head to the halflings standing beside him.

"Do not get your hopes up. It is unlikely much of Jorme will remain when we enter."

Without waiting for further agreement, he steps forward, striding purposefully to the edge of the cave. Green energy pulses to life along his forearm, balling around his fist, and he plants his back firmly against the side of the cave mouth. He looks to the halflings, waiting for their move before assaulting the dinosaurs within.

[blue chicken]

As Fryst's rope tumbles down the cliff side, landing with a bounce four hundred feet below, Adur's summoning ritual draws to its climax. Seconds later, icy vapors swirl into the shapes of a pair of cold, ferocious creatures, which throw themselves into the cave without a bound as soon as the frosty air finishes crystallizing on their fleshless bodies.

Still thirty seconds or so from the cliff, Gauran climbs solidly upward, trailed far below by the now-struggling Yorkin. Though deft, the sailor's hands are not those of a trained climber, and it seems that only his rage and willpower have held him to the wall thus far. As he reaches the higher levels of the cliff face, however, it becomes apparent that he is tiring, taking longer to move from handhold to handhold and slipping back five feet for every ten he ascends.

Meanwhile, at the cave entrance, Fryst bounds down next to Adur and Shael, and the three of them proceed into the gloom. For the first twenty feet or so, slanting rays from the sun (now partly obscured by ominous storm clouds) illuminate the interior of the fissure. Whether formed by wind or water or shaped by the hands of sentient beings in times long past, the cave is very rough, as are all of the rookeries which pock-mark the cliff face. The stone, though hot near the entrance, diminishes to a constant, pleasantly warm temperature further inside, making the locale's appeal for cold-blooded creatures obvious. Still, though heat transfers well through the porous stone, light does not, and after the initial stretch of dimly illuminated cavern the way ahead appears black.

From the darkness ahead, the strident squawking has increased in volume, mingling in the blackness with the low-pitched popping of crystalline fracturing and the subdued, moaning burbles of a grievously injured halfling.

[KuH]

Fryst
AC 20 | HP 56/56 | Init 12

Your tousled-headed friend snarls, apparently barely keeping a leash on his growing anger. He snatches the blood-stained canvas cover off the top of his club and wavering torchlight fills the cave from the flame which magically appears from the top of his thick stave, as he stalks forward into the depths of the cavern. He rasps out "Hear his pain!! Heal her if you can!! I revenge!!!"

As he goes he calls out a challenge, which sounds a lot like a feral hunting cry.

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Fryst will move quickly and purposely forward, and start raging as soon as he can see a target he can hit ... with a preference for attacking whichever beast is hurting Jorme.