Through the Faerie Ring: Beneath Foreign Stars

[whoiam]

Once inside, Alauniira'a removed her thin blindfold. It was the first time in a long time she'd had her eyes unbound... And her red eyes were almost glowing. She couldn't help it. Strange as this land was, there was still enough fae in her blood that something deep within her just felt... at home.

Sadly, it wasn't her mind. And the difference between what her mind and her body thought about the situation was beginning to annoy her. So the next comment...

"Being ambushed at dinner in your own home is not a good fight, it's a criminal failure to post effective sentries." ...wasn't as charitable as it could have been. Her years out of the underdark hadn't stopped Alauniira'a showing a few flashes of her family's ancestral paranoia. Normally, she kept it under control, but hit by the combination of wrongness, rightness, and danger, she couldn't help herself but let some of it slip out...

Spoiler

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I don't think any of Alauniira'a's knowledges are high enough to beat Damon's rolls. Unless these things need to be IDd by Knowledge (Arcana), and I'm very lucky... (1d20+14)[24] - Just in case.

[DoctorGlock]

'A failure Winter's minions do not oft commit; they tend to have perfected the arts of paranoia,' Gwylith answers as he squats to examine one of the eyeless things. 'I have never seen the like,' he says, though whether he refers to the seeming lack of sentries or the creatures or both you cannot say.

Damon and Alauniira

Spoiler

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Damon: while you have never encountered anything like them, you recall a snippet gleaned from a dusty tome of dwarven folklore. A song to be precise. A song Alauniira has heard first hand at one point in the underdark. It has a slow and dirgelike quality, a traditional dwarven chant of archaic meter. They tend not to rhyme.

'They've no eyes and yet they see,
Malice aforethought

'They've no voice and yet they speak
Words unheard by ear

'They've hands that cannot make
But take and unravel

'They lurk in the dark of places deep
They cannot bear the touch of sky

'Their ears are keen
They will ill dreams
evil lurking behind a face of holes'

The 'Lurk' are a sort of dwarven boogeyman

[Jeff the Green]

"Winterfae and lurks—are you sure the Seven are your enemies, Gwylith?" he asks, only half-joking. "Granted, the fae have been gone from the mortal world for centuries upon centuries, but none of what we recall of Mab's people is good."

[DoctorGlock]

'Then your recollections are entirely accurate,' Gwylith says. 'But as in all things Winter, the enemy of mine enemy is simply my enemy's enemy. We forget at out own peril. And the Seven are enemies to all that live.'

He raises the starlight lantern higher to peer about the beshadowed room. 'I have only heard of Lurk through winding words from dwarf-tales... I thought them legend. Your world has such things?' he asks as he picks up a weapon from the floor. It is jagged and crude with a saw-like edge. 'Poisoned. It would have to be strong to work on cold and heartless things such as these,' he says gesturing at the dead clad in shimmering mail.

[Jeff the Green]

"Nah, they're a dwarf legend at home, too," Damon replies. "I've only heard of them in a poem from a dusty old book. It was a bugger to read, it was so archaic, and the meter's awkward, but it matches pretty well. 'No eyes and yet they see', 'evil behind a face of holes', 'lurking in the dark', and all that."

[Nightraiderx]

"poisoned you say?" Zeeke takes interest in the blades, picking another one up that looked poisonous inspecting it.
"wonder what kind of properties this poison has? could be of use to us against the seven..."

Spoiler: Ooc:

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not sure if I can identify it this way but I'm gonna roll all the rolls!
knowledge nature
(1d20+6)[8]
craft:poisonmaking
(1d20+9)[29]
survival
(1d20+7)[12]

[DoctorGlock]

'If any earthly poison worked against them I doubt they would inspire such terror,' the fey answers Zeeke. 'The better question is what Lurk are doing here-- bad enough that they are real, few things give the dwarves pause after all, but here and not in the bowels of their cavern kingdoms? And did the Seven ride with them or against them, if the Seven were here at all.'

He once more kneels down to inspect a body, another penetrated by a black shaft. He reaches out to touch it before jerking his hands back as if stung, an expression of revulsion on his face. 'Iron. They were killed with iron. No fey can bear its touch.' His wary eyes fall on the group, thoughts flickering behind guarded eyes.

He glances at he throne on the dais. 'The pale castellan would have sat there, and his body is not among the fallen. His duties would have been to warn others. The belltower should have sounded. Perhaps answers lie upwards.' he says, pacing up the stairs that flank the dais, heading towards the staircase heading into the gloom above.

Spoiler: Zeeke

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Ok, so the poison isn't from anything in the mortal world, so it should be impossible to ID. But I hate wasting a 20, so you'll get something.

The poison is clearly organic, rather than synthetic or alchemical. It clots a bit too, implying it is animal in origin rather than plant. It reminds you somewhat of spider or centipede venoms though, a quick acting enzyme that corrodes and necrotizes living flesh

Spoiler: upstairs, should you follow, otherwise post OOC where you go so I can create it

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Upstairs

The stairs lead up a short distance to a circular room that resembles a barracks of sorts, but if a barracks were run by a decadent princeling. Narrow bunks arrayed with fine silks of questionable materials in varying states of disarray. In the center is another staircase of crude stone slabs etched with ancient looking writing, the spiral encased in it's own circular tower of sorts. At the far end of the room is another doorway. More bodies are scattered about, but all in a state of fighting. None here seem to have been taken by surprise. But the sidhe in residence seem to have died terribly. Great seared wounds pock their flesh, and the armor's edges around them seems have have been shattered as if by great frost. Rubble is blocking the staircase up just shortly past the first bend.

[whoiam]

"It's not that bad, " Alauniira'a points out, touching the iron of her revolver. "Does kinda tingle if you get your hands on a pure enough piece, though. A couple of my sisters had some theories on why that might be. Kinda wish I'd paid attention to them now..."

Alauniira'a's instinct is to follow their 'guide' up to the belltower, but it was fighting her instinct for self-preservation and its' edict 'Wait for Damon'. So she paused by the door, and looked back to see what her friend was doing.

[Nightraiderx]

"one can never be too careful, the worse that happens that the poison doesn't work, besides there can be other uses." Zeeke attempts to collect the poison, thinking that maybe someone would identify it for him in another town, and at worse could be a last ditch poison should his reserves run out. Zeeke watches the fey ascend the staircase, considering how the floor looked he felts uneasy going down towards the source as liquid usually pools at the bottom. He walks by niira peeking through the door, opening it slightly.

Spoiler: Ooc:

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Perception roll
(1d20+10)[24]

Stealth roll
(1d20+11)[26]

[DoctorGlock]

The faint and muffled sounds of combat filter down through the gaping doorway, the ring of metal on metal, but sounding as if impossibly far away.

[whoiam]

"Are you feeling brave, Zeeke?" Alauniira'a asks, the sounds of battle making it to her ears as well. I'm not! "Because I don't think we're getting any answers without heading towards that sound..."

[senrath]

Drake shifted a bit as he waited at the entrance to the ruined building. It hadn't been that long that the others had gone in, yet, and he hadn't heard anything that would indicate things had gone wrong with the scouting. He'd wait a little while longer before doing anything.

[Nightraiderx]

Zeeke tentatively nods, "I'm not sure about brave, but it's got to be done, you in with us Damon?" Zeeke fiddles with something on his arm as a small dagger is produced from the sleeve of his clothes.

[Jeff the Green]

Damon gives Zeeke a boyish grin. "Of course," he replies. He readies his weaponry, whirling his revolver about his finger and pulling his hunting musket from its sling on his back. With the springing stride of a trained acrobat, he heads toward the open door.

[whoiam]

Alauniira'a falls in behind Zeeke and Damon as they get moving. "I'll never understand how you can charge into probable danger so casually..." She mutters behind them, more to herself than to them. Won't stop her following, though.

[DoctorGlock]

The Tower

You round ascend the spiraling staircase into deeper darkness, and the sounds seeming draw no closer, still muted as though from the bottom of a deep and covered well, ascending into a short hallway lit by a pale flickering spectral glow cast by a fallen lantern. Gwylith's lantern to be precise, casting it's imitation starlight about the gloom. The wick is almost out and whatever oils it uses are pooled about it on the floor.

You 'guide' is backed against a wall where four of the mishapen creatures are bearing down on him in silence with weighty brutal cleavers. He is defending in an arcing blaze of gleaming sickles, a shouted war cry falling nearly mute in the dark gloom. A fifth is clutching it's belly, seemingly holding in its guts. They reek of rot and brine. As you round the top of the the stairs, three of the creatures turn towards you in impossibly uncanny unison before one opens its mouth in a guttural yell that seems impossibly far away...

Spoiler

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Roll initiative, perception

Outside:

Outside the tower the air seems to be oppressive. It is not the simple chill, or the unease. The way that words seem to fall flat and hang empty on the air itches at the back of the mind in troubling ways.

'Tell me then,' the horse speaks to Drake. 'Thinkest me a coward?'

[whoiam]

Spoiler

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Alauniira'a, the world's least attentive observer, rolls her mighty -3 perception check!

"Initiative" - (1d20+6)[7]
"Perception" - (1d20-3)[17]

...And gets a natural 20, while completely flubbing her Initiative roll. *giggles*

[senrath]

"Cowardice had not crossed my mind. Without knowing any more about you than I do, I would deem you prudent. After all, prudence is why I am out here as well. If stealth and scouting are the goal I would merely be in their way." Drake said, staring through the doorway as though he was trying see what was happening inside of it, a stark difference to his normal inattentiveness.

[DoctorGlock]

Outside

'And should your friends run into trouble inside, what would you do?' the horse replies.

[senrath]

"Then I will go to their aid as swiftly as I can."

[Jeff the Green]

Inside

"Practice," Damon replies to Alauniira'a as they reach the top of the staircase. He grimaces at the sight of the Lurks and raises his pistol. "Sometime I'll take you boar hunting." Two shots ring out in staccato bursts of thunder. "You stand in a game trail with a big spear with cross bars on the blade, and have a hound or mounted companion drive them to you. Then you get in the beast's way, set your spear, and let them impale themselves on it." Keeping an eye on the brutes, he takes a cautious step toward the lantern.

Spoiler: OOC

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Full-round action: Rapid shot, inspiration point for damage on the first.

• (1d20+7)[20] touch, (1d6+7)[12]
• (1d20+7)[17] touch, (1d6+2)[8]

5-foot step: Toward the lantern.

I think that's about all I can say in a round, so I'll ask Gwylith about the lantern next round.

[Nightraiderx]

"sigh, not pleasant at all." Zeeke nervously looks around at the situation seeing Damon take the shots, Zeeke follows up hoping to thin their numbers in the first round. With the flick of his wrist a dagger pops out of his sleeve as he drives it into the horrible creature.

Spoiler: Ooc:

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Iron Fang manuever ignores DR
(1d20+8)[11]

(1d4+5)[8]
(2d6)[10]

[DoctorGlock]

Outside

'And how would you know? You can hear how words distort even out here. Tir'Nasu, the Namer's bane. Silence. Inside it would be even worse.' The horse looks sideways at Drake, third eye glinting all too knowingly. 'If it is prudence when you do not know your quarry, what is it when you are cripplingly aware of what waits ahead? Tell me, warrior, what are you when stripped of words?'

The Tower

Twin shots sound, a low and muffled thump rather than the familiar crack of thunder you are used to, and one of the Lurks reels, lips peeling back from needle-teeth in a silent hiss. The others seem to parrot the reaction simultaneously. A glinting dagger hurtles rapidly in the bullets' wake, but find no targets. Gripping hideous cleavers in pale and sinuous fists, the lurks charge as one.

Spoiler: Combat action

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Each Lurk initiates rage and charges. All are now at -4 AC from total.

Damon. This is the injured one.
(1d20+11)[23]
If hit
(1d10+9)[10]

Zeeke
(1d20+11)[17]
(1d10+9)[14]

Nira. This charge brings it past both Zeeke and Damon, provoking twin AoOs. Please take it down before it kills Nira.
(1d20+11)[14]
(1d10+9)[14]

Everyone hit please make a DC 11 Fort save

[senrath]

"You know something I don't." Drake said as he looked the horse over once more. Then, without waiting for a response he rushed into the tower to seek out his comrades. The horse's words gave him the incredible sense that they were in danger already, not that he just wouldn't know if they were if it happened.

[whoiam]

Spoiler: OOC

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Bufffing! That's what I'd forgotten to do...

"Fort" - (1d20+2)[11]

Luckily it took more than (fairly severe) injury to stop a Drow's self-preservation instincts. In this case, a quick step back out of immediate danger, a deft dip into her spell component pouch, and the fastest circle of powdered silver you ever did see. True, it was rough and spotty, but thankfully that was all she needed to protect herself.

Spoiler

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Alauniira'a adds Protection from Evil to herself for the next 4 minutes.

Then she drew her rapier (more for show than anything... she wasn't any good with it), and tried not to anticipate the next assault...

[DoctorGlock]

Inside: First floor.

Without the lantern's starlight, the atrium of the crumbling fortress is nearly pitch black, lit only by a scattering of pale and ghostly blue embers and the knife of outside's twilight forcing it's way through the open doorway. And a flicker of ghostly light from a doorway opposite. Very faint sounds can be heard from it, like gunfire miles away.

Second floor.

The lantern's light begins to fade as the wick starts to burn out, a trail of pale smoldering smoke rising from it with a scent like burnt maple. The Lurks' shadows seem to grow longer, their aspects seeming more distorted and monstrous as the light fades.

[Jeff the Green]

Upstairs
"I don't think we want that to go out," Damon calls to Gwylith, indicating the lantern. "How do I get it burning again?

[DoctorGlock]

Your words barely seem to leave your mouth, consumed by the growing darkness as silence reigns. If your guide even managed to hear you, you cannot hear whatever it is he is shouting into the night.

Spoiler: Stuff

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With that said, you did see the perception check in the OOC. Should be obvious.

[Jeff the Green]

"Damn it," Damon mutters, though even he can't hear himself now. Looking speculatively at the butcher in front of him, he takes a quick step back, then does a somersault past it, under its cleaver. He comes to his feet almost already in a sprint and at the other end of the hall slides to a crouch next to the lantern and the vial of starlight.

Spoiler: OOC

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Double move. Tumble (1d20+11)[23]. He should need to tumble through 10 ft., meaning he can get 50 ft. down the hall.

[Nightraiderx]

"Damn not good, not good." Zeeke takes a step back and tries again, as the blade glistens and distorts trying to down one of the mad cleavers that he swiped at before.

Spoiler: Ooc:

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Dimensional Strike to make them FF
swift action Weakening venom prana Fort DC 15 for 1d4 str damage

(1d20+12)[31]

Damage:
(1d4+5)[6]
Stance + Deadly Strike damage to FF
(2d6)[7]

Str damage:
(1d4)[2]