Age of Ruin IC: Where demons dwell

[knewsom]

Draven also spoke in a low voice, the bones in his hands still gripped tightly, but calmly at his sides.

"Agreed. Let's approach calmly and see if we can communicate peacefully. If not, I'll make sure that any of them who attacks us suffers for it."

[The Great Skenardo]

Sumner Kesh
Sumner's fists clench.
"That may not work. These are the barbarians of the north, the Kumari. They hate any who are not of their kind, especially Davethrans. They are also...inventive when it comes to treatment of prisoners."

[Toliudar]

Ismal

She pauses to consider, and stops moving forward.

These men are living in, as far as we can tell, hell. Do we really think nationality is going to be their major consideration?

Well, if need be, we can try to take one out. I might be able to convert one of them to our side in the process, though.

And get your mind out of the gutter, saucy man.

She smiles.

[Lot]

Khorik moves slowly, getting comfortable with the weight of his makeshift bone club. Despite the grim setting, he has a slight grin on his face.

"Wouldn't it be funny to be blown away to whatever plane or world we're on...and then to be killed by some random ruffians. I'm all for talking. If I'm going to die naked, I'd prefer different circumstances."

The large warrior moves near Sumner, ready to follow his lead.

[knewsom]

Draven gripped his bone weapon and shield in anticipation of a battle.

"Don't look so worried - for each blow they land on us, they will be scalded by acid - even without armor or spell components, my power is a force to be reckoned with."

I'm afraid my mind is elsewhere occupied at the moment my dear. ...but the sight of you as the gods intended is always welcome to my eyes.

[Toliudar]

Ismal

And you as well. "My power is a force to be reckoned with." I'll say.

Her voice is cold and dispassionate as she evaluates their potential opponents.

If we can get a lot closer, I can try to control one of them. Or, if you're intent on violence, I can reach them with some spells from here, and force them to come to us.

[knewsom]

Draven blushed ever so slightly before speaking.

"That's not a bad idea. I can target one from a distance as well, but perhaps it would be best to attempt a parlay before we jump into a fight. There could be more of them, and they could just be frightened of us and worried we'll attack them."

[NobleSavage]

Kaleff Nefud

Hesitating a moment after Hern's gruff response, Kaleff seems to see the environment for the first time. Calling up his arcane powers, he is about to cast a spell as the alien looking men come into view. Cutting his motions short, Kaleff's posture straightens and he takes on an aire of confidence, drifting out and to the rear, putting himself in a flanking position.

[Ozzy_G]

You stride closer, and can now see that the men wear jerkins of some pale leather, and are armed with a collection of savage looking weapons. All 5 of them have beards, and they're quite stocky and hairy.
One speaks to you, in a joking sort of voice, and the others laugh.
They wait, as if expecting some sort of answer. A couple give the dark-skinned Hern and red-eyed Kaleff odd looks. They all ogle Ismal.

[The Great Skenardo]

Sumner Kesh
"I'm inclined to kill them," he says, from the corner of his mouth. His gray eyes blaze, although it's difficult to tell if from excitement or hatred.

[Lot]

Khorik steps forward from his group, doing his best to appear menacing without being outright hostile. Despite his lack of clothing or proper weapon, he attempts to look confident.

"Do you understand me? We are in need of help and would appreciate any aid you could give us."

Khorik speaks calmly, yet his grip on his bone club is tight and his body language shows he is ready for action.

[Gungnir]

"I wonder what you could possibly be laughing at." Hern shrugs. "May as well try to find some common ground, language-wise."

"I suppose Mokai is out of the question. Davethran would be ideal, since we all know it. The only other languages I know are Draconic and Darven, but I haven't used them in years."

With each statement, we uses the dialect he's speaking of, and watches closely for any recognition by the kumari men.

[Ozzy_G]

The men look at Hern blankly, but when he speaks in Draconic, a couple of them perk up. The tallest one gestures to a shorter, balding one, who steps forward and speaks slowly in bad, halting Draconic, which luckily you all understand, even with his atrocious accent.

You say Dragon speak?

[The Great Skenardo]

Sumner Kesh
Sumner lifts his eyebrows and replies in draconic.
"We do. Who are you, and can you tell us where we are?"

[Ozzy_G]

He peers at Sumner, evidently not entirely understanding what he said.
He points at Ismal. You leave lady, go away, if not we kill you very much. He waves his rather brutal-looking axe enthusiastically. The others raise their weapons threateningly.

[knewsom]

Draven chuckled lightly at the mention of leaving Ismal, wisps of acidic mist escaping his mouth as he spoke.

"You fools. We speak the language of dragons. I can call upon their power. We don't need clothing or weapons or armor to destroy you. You will tell us what we want to know, or I will show you that power in full force."

Spoiler

Show

intimidate(1d20+5)[20], readying action - breath weapon on the biggest toughest looking one.

[The Great Skenardo]

Sumner Kesh
Sumner shakes his head.
"Ismal, that magic you spoke of...I think you should use it now, before they charge. And they will charge. Be ready, everyone." Sumner adjusts his stance, preparing himself for the clash, spreading his hands empty hands wide.

(OOC: Full defensive stance. AC 17)

[Ozzy_G]

The man looks scared, and turns his head slightly to say something to the biggest man. The man chuckles, as do his followers, and gestures at Draven with his huge sword. It's an odd design, as are all the other blades they carry, perfectly straight rather than having the slight curve that you find on Davethran blades.
The short man turns back to Draven.
You lie, you just die so no clothes. We have weapons, we strong, we they-who-dwell-in-ice-mountains. You are they-who-slave-to-Gothul. We kill you, take woman. If you live, you give woman.

[knewsom]

Draven shrugged nonchalantly.

"Don't say I didn't warn him."

Spoiler

Show

Line of Acid on the big dude, (4d6)[12] reflex DC17 for half - (1d4)[3] rounds until Draven can use it again.

[Ozzy_G]

Draven vomits forward a line of viscous acid at the leader. He screams as the acid burns into his skin.

[Toliudar]

Ismal

Thanks for wanting to keep me around.

Cued by Draven's intake of breath, Ismal tenses and starts casting a spell, directed at the biggest man who hasn't just had acid spit on him.

Spoiler

Show

Casting Charm Person (DC 16 will save).

If the save is made, she will simply retreat 30'.

If the save is unsuccessful, she will wave and immediately send a telepathic message to the man she's charmed:

Hello! I'm so happy to have met such a virile and bearded man - not like these little ones with me. But I don't want to be shared with your friends. If they were knocked out, the two of us could have SUCH fun together.

[Gungnir]

Hern winces a bit in sympathy for the Kumari man, having suffered similar burns not long ago. Then he puts one foot behind him, and flexes his arms, and smiles wickedly at the rest of them, inviting a challenge.

[Lot]

Khorik surges forward at the first signs of hostilities, his unbalanced bone club raised high. With the cool and dispassionate bearing of a professional, Khorik attempts to fell the closest opponent before he can respond.

[Ozzy_G]

A thick-bodied, yellow-haired man is the first to react, charging Draven and smashing into the warrior's belly with his giant club.

This however, leads the leader undefended, and Khorik runs at him, cracking the Kumari's head open with a mighty swing of the demonic femur he holds. The man slumps dead on the floor.
Seeing his leader dead, the short man who was translating swings his axe, slashing into Khorik's unprotected back.

[Ozzy_G]

Kaleff mutters and touches Hern, an invisible force appearing around the dark-skinned warrior.

With his large spear, one man attacks Khorik, but he dodges nimbly to the side.
Next, the man with the longsword, held in both hands, slashes at Hern, drawing blood but not seriously injuring him.

Ismal casts some spell, looking at the man with the spear attacking Khorik. He blinks, and pauses in shock as he hears her telepathic message. Whether the charm has worked is impossible to tell immediately.

[Ozzy_G]

Moving a mere five feet, Sumner closes with the man holding the giant club. Crouching down, the youth leans back and kicks out a tattooed leg, sweeping it sideways into the back of the blonde man's knees, but the man stays upright.
Using the pushoff for momentum, Sumner springs back to his feet, the demon vertebrae now in his hands as if by magic. He lashes out with the bones, but the man neatly side-steps. Sumner whips the bone around again, connecting with the man's arm.

[Toliudar]

Ismal

Ismal's voice appears in Khorik and Draven's minds.

The spear-holder, attacking Khorik may now be friendly to us. I'll let you know as soon as I can.

[Ozzy_G]

Hern jumps on the man with the longsword, grabbing his arms so he can't move.
The short man with the axe slashes at Khorik once again, drawing blood but not seriously injuring him.
The man with the huge club whips it around and smashes it with phenomenal strength into Sumner's chest, with a solid crunch as bones break.

[Ozzy_G]

Draven's drops the bones he was holding and tries to grab the huge club, but the man swings it away, around, and smashes it into Draven's chest. He yelps as acidic mist burns him.
The man with the spear yells something you don't understand, and stabs the man with the maul in the back, impaling him. The man splutters blood, and then collapses, sliding off the spear into the ground.
The man with sword wriggles free of Hern's grasp.

[Ozzy_G]

Khorik attacks the man with the axe twice, but he sidesteps the first attack and the second bounces off the metal studs on his leather jerkin.
Ismal mutters, waves her hands, and 4 bolts of energy slam into the man with the axe, sending him staggering back. The rest of you hear a telepathic message in your head:
The spear-man thinks he gets me afterwards. Kill him last.
Still wheezing from the blow to his ribs, Sumner wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth. The rough texture of the club and the forcefulness of the blow were not kind to the blisters and bruises and burns the youth had already sustained.
Far from fazing him, however, Sumner's eyes burn with an unnerving gleam as he reaches down and recovers the gigantic club from the ground, hefting its weight with almost a smile on his face.
His expression slips a little as the mental message enters his skull, but then his eyes narrow.
Still silent, Sumner steps forward and drives the club as hard as he can at the spearman's head. Ducking and weaving, the blow hits the man's shoulder, but still leaves his with blood spurting out of his shoulder, with bits of bone sticking out.