The Black Shingle Fiasco

[Marlowe]

Avita strings an arrow as she moves toward the door, then moves the bow to her left hand while she trails deathly energies with her right. Keeping an eye on the repaired tiles in the floor for signs of anything interesting erupting from them.

Cabal Macabre. "Hold the door". "Hold the door", I said. Not "Run outside and get yourself bitten".

Not his fault, the others are cut off.

How'd Ygor get himself cut off from the door anyway? Gnomish bastard better live so I can grill him.

[YossarianLives]

Yet another volley peppers the Children, dropping three, and the soldiers on the ground move in to wipe out the rest. Eric, Sarim, and Andras each score a kill, while the guardsmen skewer the remaining Zaghifd on their pikes. The combat is over, for now.

The threat of immediate violence gone, the guardsman sag, their limbs going limp. Shock is clearly evident on their faces. Ygor turns to you, brow furrowed, shaking his head fervently. "They just appeared out of nowhere - literally. One moment we were standing quietly on guard, the next we were completely surrounded. Sorcery, it must be!"

[Bartmanhomer]

Yet another volley peppers the Children, dropping three, and the soldiers on the ground move in to wipe out the rest. Eric, Sarim, and Andras each score a kill, while the guardsmen skewer the remaining Zaghifd on their pikes. The combat is over, for now.

The threat of immediate violence gone, the guardsman sag, their limbs going limp. Shock is clearly evident on their faces. Ygor turns to you, brow furrowed, shaking his head fervently. "They just appeared out of nowhere - literally. One moment we were standing quietly on guard, the next we were completely surrounded. Sorcery, it must be!"

"Yes I agree. The teenage demonspawn did mention that the demons were sent to a plane from their world."

[YossarianLives]

Ygor gives Eric a funny look, still panting from the exertion. "Yes, of course. Demons are beings of another plane, so far as I know. But we've never seen anything like this before.
Our intelligence suggests that the fiends have been entering our world through a single rift somewhere in Black Shingle." He shakes his head, sighs. "I don't like it one bit."

[Bartmanhomer]

Ygor gives Eric a funny look, still panting from the exertion. "Yes, of course. Demons are beings of another plane, so far as I know. But we've never seen anything like this before.
Our intelligence suggests that the fiends have been entering our world through a single rift somewhere in Black Shingle." He shakes his head, sighs. "I don't like it one bit."

I don't like it either. I think the teenage demonspawn know a lot more information about it than we already know. I don't know what it is but I think it's something extremely major that we should be very concerned about."

[Marlowe]

Avita shoulders her bow. "Truthfully, I don't think the Wheelers are demons. They're humanoids native to the Abyss, drafted into service as edge-fodder. By this...king or god or Arch-Demon in charge of this fiasco. Bit of bad luck for them. Their portal is somewhere down in the sewers. At least, that's what we've got so far. Maybe the Divine has a bit more information by this stage."

She gives a backward glance up the ladder. "Appeared out of thin air? Then I owe someone an apology. Did they appear anywhere close to the corpse we discovered? That's NOT a random question. The corpse might have been left as some kind of focus."

[YossarianLives]

Ygor turns to Eric. "You may be right. If possible, we should try and bring the rascal back alive. High Command have been itching to get their hands on a prisoner we can actually communicate with." He pulls a cloth from his pocket, and begins wiping the blood from his sword, listening intently to Avita. When she mentions the portal, his eyebrows instantly shoot upwards.
"Now that is very interesting - make sure you pass that on to the Captain." He chuckles. "No need for an apology, but I don't think the corpse had anything to do with it." He gestures to the other side of the square, where the gnomish corpse lies conspicuously. "Voss dumped it over there. I suppose it would be right to lug the poor soul back, but for now I'd rather we didn't have to smell it." He looks around for a moment, apparently thinking hard. "Come on. We should retreat into the tower. I don't want to be caught off guard again."

[Bartmanhomer]

Ygor turns to Eric. "You may be right. If possible, we should try and bring the rascal back alive. High Command have been itching to get their hands on a prisoner we can actually communicate with." He pulls a cloth from his pocket, and begins wiping the blood from his sword, listening intently to Avita. When she mentions the portal, his eyebrows instantly shoot upwards.
"Now that is very interesting - make sure you pass that on to the Captain." He chuckles. "No need for an apology, but I don't think the corpse had anything to do with it." He gestures to the other side of the square, where the gnomish corpse lies conspicuously. "Voss dumped it over there. I suppose it would be right to lug the poor soul back, but for now I'd rather we didn't have to smell it." He looks around for a moment, apparently thinking hard. "Come on. We should retreat into the tower. I don't want to be caught off guard again."

"Sounds good to me."

[Marlowe]

Avita directs her attention to the door of the tower, trying to ascertain the damage and chance of repairing it. "If we could close this thing, and keep it closed, that might be reassuring." she growls. "Sadly, it's surprising how rarely one feels the need to bring carpentry tools along on a military operation."

[Bartmanhomer]

Avita directs her attention to the door of the tower, trying to ascertain the damage and chance of repairing it. "If we could close this thing, and keep it closed, that might be reassuring." she growls. "Sadly, it's surprising how rarely one feels the need to bring carpentry tools along on a military operation."

"Unless somebody got some great repairing skills that would be great."

[Marlowe]

Avita stops running her hand along the door and stares at it like an Evangelion character, touching each finger to her thumb in turn. Her skin has lost some colour these last few days. Her eyes and nails and lips have blackened a little.

"Sarim. Blue-Eyes. Soldiers. A word" she says. "Next time we run into a mob of these little horrors there might be something I can do to deal with them more efficiently. It is not something I can do very often, but it is something I can do."

"Trouble is, it involves summoning a mass of small creatures that cannot tell friend from foe and will simply attack what is nearby to where I place them. So, I know the old "Running at the enemy screaming and try to cut bits off them" plan is a classic, but it does not mix well."

"So, if you should hear me suddenly start ranting about wings of the night, eyes in the darkness, claws of the wind or somesuch romantic nonsense; that is your cue to guard me close, and keep your distance from the foe. Just a tip.

She turns back to the door again.

Of course, getting this closed and barred would make that a good deal easier."

[YossarianLives]

Together with the soldiers, you tramp back into the tower while Eric descends the steps to join the conversation. At the ramparts, the crossbowmen remain on guard. Frowning, Ygor grunts his agreement to Avita's first statement. "Our only option may be to barricade the door, but I don't know what we'd use. I'm afraid no one in my squad has the right skills or tools for the job."

Everyone listens to Avita intently, and nods solemnly. "Do what's necessary, says Ygor, his frown deepening, "but under no circumstances will you put my soldiers at risk. There's enough danger out here without our allies trying to do us in."

Keeping a close eye on the door and nearby streets, the other soldiers settle down and wait.

[Marlowe]

Avita gives a short, sharp nod and a hard gleam of teeth, and turns back to inspecting the door. Trying to swing it closed and, if it will do so, looking for a way of reinforcing it. The lock is presumably a ruin, but if it was barred there might be enough left of the bar to slide over and resecure it.

Which will avail little if the hinges are broken, or at the point of breaking.

"There's little furniture in here that we could use to make a barricade", she say distractedly. "We could bring up earth from the--cellar", she indicates the broken gaps in the floor. "Pile it up. It'll be frelling slow work. And awkward."

[YossarianLives]

Ygor nods tersely. "I'll follow your lead. We have a few entrenching tools, just in case. Digging might work, but it'll take time, and lots of it."

Upon closer examination, Avita's guesses are correct. The lock is damaged beyond repair, but the door's bar is still intact. Whether the door itself will survive a determined assault remains in doubt, but you would guess the answer to be a no.

[Marlowe]

"Hinges are frelled right out to Wednesday" Avita taps the offending bits of metal with her gauntlet. "At this point we might be better off taking the door down entirely, laying it on its side in the doorway, and building it up into an earthwork. And I'm not suggesting we send people out to collect rubble. That's just sticking our nipples in a mincer." And then, seeing she seems to be the only one interested in this line of thinking, she steps back.

"Well, if we're going to go that, I'm going to need my rope and lantern. Which are currently with the prisoner. So I might as well talk to him while he's moderately co-operative." And heads back up the ladder to the second floor.

She sits down before the Daemonspawn, produces her parchments and set them on the floor. Moves the lantern cautiously between the prisoner and the papers, and gets out pen and ink.

"Now...young sir." She begins. "Your welfare and ours might well depend on what information you're able to give us. So I'm going to ask you some questions--the good Divine can stand witness--and take note of what you say. Afterwards I'll be speaking to Marion here-" a nod to the injured Gnome. "-Assuming she is up for it. If I think you're answering truthfully I'll TRY to get the sergeant to agree to give you parole. You understand parole? It means you agree to stay with us, come with us, and don't attempt to hurt us. In return, we agree to untie you. Now, questions-" She dips her pen.

"What is your name? What is the name of your people? Can you describe the place and conditions where you used to live in your home plane? Can you describe the surroundings of the portal through which you entered this world? Yes, this side AND the other side. Can you describe the route you took from the portal to the surface? Can you describe how long you've been in this city and what you've been doing--yes, you may have said some of these things before but we're writing them down now--and how exactly do you know our faces?"

[Kushina43]

Hearing Avita's warning, Sarim nods but frowns a bit similar to Ygor, though he says nothing since the captain's responded with similar reasoning. On barricading the door, however;
"I'll help wit' the diggin' if ye got a shovel fer me. Liftin' dirt's easy fer me as slaughterin' lamb. I ain't helpin' much wit' questionin' this guy anyway."

[YossarianLives]

Ygor scowls at Avita's metaphor, but passes the instruction on to his soldiers. They grumble a bit, but before long the door has been wrenched off it's hinges and laid sideways in front of the frame, while other soldiers begin the laborious task of piling earth behind it, chipping at the hard ground with shovels and picks miniature even for a gnome. One soldier hands her shovel over to Sarim. Though the tiny tool is almost a toy in his hands, the Dworc is able to work faster than the four gnomes combined, and he estimates the barricade will be complete in under an hour.

When Avita returns to the second floor, she finds the demonspawn squatting near the still-unconscious Marion, trying to ignore Sycarus' stares. He looks up at the sound of the necromancer's footsteps, surprised, and gulps. He listens to her patiently, then nods, looking unsure where to start. Eventually, he settles on an introduction: "Brin, is my name. Brin of the Deshid Clan.
My people have roamed the steppes for... eternity, so far as I know. We live in the highlands, or so we're told. A hard land. Dust, few plants, hungry beasts. But we make do, mostly as shepherds or hunters, always wandering in search of more fertile land." He pauses again, looking pained. "When I was drafted, they marched us along for weeks, stopping only to recruit from other clans, before we eventually reached a... city. The first I'd ever been in. It was a wretched place, smoky, filthy... the demons treated us like slime. They gave us weapons, uniforms," Brin gestures at his baggy, black fatigues, "then led us to the top of a great pyramid near the centre of their city, peaked with a twisted arch of... well, it wasn't stone, but I'll call it that. The arch was wide enough for twenty people to walk through abreast and the height of this tower. A rift flickered in the arch, it's edges much smaller it's container, constantly morphing shape and size. Myself and my kindred, along with several thousand demons, were marched through the rift."

"I was certain the rift would collapse as we were passing through, or lead us to some foreign hell. We emerged in some sort of dank cave, the base camp for the invasion, if I had to guess. There more demons camped there. Lots of them. The rift was smaller on this side, and seemed less stable, but we weren't given time to look. Some of the demons, pale, slim creatures with yellow eyes, led us up by a ladder, into Black Shingle." At this, he looks profoundly uncomfortable. "Some of the others were kept behind to guard the camp, I was put to work, building fortifications, lugging supplies... That continued for about a fortnight, without me seeing more of the enemy than their corpses. Then came the assault - me and five hundred of my kinsmen were sent to charge your wall, as a distraction, I think. We were massacred. I escaped with a handful of my comrades, but... He pauses for a good twenty seconds. "But I was sick of risking my life, breaking my back so the bloody nobles could profit. That night, I snuck past the guards and eventually found my way to this tower and, despite some... misunderstandings, I found shelter. As for how I recognize you? I was watching from the ramparts, when you rescued the other civilians, I saw your battle. It's not something one easily forgets."

[Marlowe]

For a moment there's nothing but the scritch and scratch of Avita's inkpen as she jots all this down. Then she raises her head. "Thank you, Brin of the Deshid", she says, "So from the cave in which you found yourselves you were led directly up a ladder into Black Shingle. Interesting. Brin, can you tell me if the "dank cave" as you put it looked natural, or constructed? Was it a natural cave, was it a part of the sewers?"

Whatever his answer, she jot that down. Then asks Sycarus to witness the document "Just to prove I haven't made the whole frelling thing up...". She gently breathes on the paper to dry the ink, and carefully tucks it away.

"I'm going to help with the fortifications, then I'll speak to the Sergeant about getting you untied.
Do you, Brin of the Deshid, promise to make no attempt to escape or harm any of us should we give you freedom of action? Do you, at the least, understand what will happen to you should you disappoint me?"

[YossarianLives]

"The cave was part of your city's sewers, but it looked like there had been recent excavation. I know some of my comrades were put to work digging tunnels." Brin listens to Avita, clearly conflicted. Perhaps too quickly, he blurts out. "I understand. You have my word."

Sycarus looks over the document, nods, and signs his name at the bottom.

[Marlowe]

Avita just looks into Brin's eyes for a moment. And then turns, picks up her lantern, and makes her way down the stairs.

"Ygor." she says. "I have a statement from the prisoner.
Might I request that he be untied; in the short term? I venture to suggest that he could provide some useful intelligence to those that know the city, that he has promised to stay by us, that he is no demon, and that if you wish to gainsay me you could bloody well go up there and speak to him himself. No pressure."

She steps aside from the ladder. Leaving space for another to go up, and looks to be biting back a comment. But what she says is; "And if you kill him, you'd better have a really good reason. His name is Brin."

[YossarianLives]

By the time Avita has finished transcribing Brin's testimony and come downstairs, a quarter of an hour has passed. Good progress has been made on the barricade, the pile of earth reaching halfway up the sideways door. Nonetheless, at the moment it is far from secure and will hardly slow any determined attacker.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ygor listens to Avita, shovel resting on his shoulder. He looks displeased, but gives a nod of acquiescence. "I'll allow it. But keep a close eye him -
and make sure the scoundrel isn't armed." Avita's last stipulation is ignored.

[YossarianLives]

Soon, the barricade is finished, a sturdy pile of dirt that reaches shoulder height. The soldiers crouch behind it, weapons at the ready, relying on the crossbowmen to warn them of oncoming danger. Time stretches by. A light drizzle beings to patter on the cobblestones, mingling with the blood. The guardsmen begin to relax, breaking out rations and chatting quietly among themselves. You realize Parker never said how long it would be till reinforcements arrived. Two and a half hours later, with the sun almost at it's zenith, you hear a shout and the sound of running feet from above.

One of the crossbowman dashes down the stairs, skids to a halt, and begins explaining in an urgent voice. "Hostiles - two dozen of them! Hybrids. Just down the street." Peering over the barricade, you can see the truth in the soldier's report. Twenty-four of the hybrids are hurtling down the avenue toward you in an column, marching four abreast, clicking their mandibles and waving curved swords above their heads, tails waving gracefully. Three of them, located near the platoon's centre, carry long spears made entirely of dark metal, engraved with runes, indecipherable at this distance. The spears seem to have been forged as one solid piece, with no rivets or other material.

You estimate the hybrids will reach the tower in about thirty seconds.

[Marlowe]

Avita feels her hackles rise a little at the sheer numbers of the foe, but there's no point in looking nervous. At the very least, this is going to be exciting. I REALLY hope Sarim's had his wounds seen to. she thinks as she stalks to the parapet, stringing an arrow. But what she says is; "They've sent in the clowns; Boys and Girls!" She takes aim at the central spearwielder. "Target the pointy ones with the pointy things! Let's put a spoke in their wheel!"

Spoiler: Twang

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Attack (longbow) (1d20+3)[15]
Dam (1d8)[4]

Spoiler: Crit stuff if needed.

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Confirm (1d20+3)[9]
Extra Dam (2d8)[3]

She'll continue to fire as the Demons approach, but once they get within 30ft, will begin casting her Summon Swarm spell.

[Bartmanhomer]

"Here we go again."

Eric shoot the demon hybrid with his shortbow.

Attack: (1d20+4)[10]
Damage: (1d6)[6]
Sneak Attack: (2d6)[4]

Critical:

Attack: (1d20+4)[8]
Damage: (3d6)[12]

[YossarianLives]

The hybrids sprint down the road towards you, synchronized in all things, shields raised to block the barrage of arrows they know will come. Eric, Avita, and the crossbowmen oblige them. You each manage to get four shots off before the hybrids come crashing into the tower and chaos truly falls. They are able to slay one of the spear-bearers, the monster suffering five missiles before succumbing, and deal one more a brutal wound. One of the hybrids throws down its sword and takes up the fallen spear, hardly dropping out of formation. While at first they make towards the barricade, the hybrids split into two groups at the last minute, the first begin scrambling up the tower with surprising speed while the second descends on the poor souls below, hissing, spitting, and hooting in a guttural language.

Andras, Sarim, Ygor, and the pikemen rush to repel the assault on the barricade, but only three of them can reach the door at a time. Despite their size, a trio of gnomes step up and lower their weapons as the hybrids start to clamber over the barricade - only one scores a hit, little more than a graze.

The climbers, none of whom carry spears, make it over half way up the tower.

Spoiler: OOC

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One hybrid dead, no damage on your side. If Sarim or Andras would like to step forward, they can take one of the gnomes' place without any hassle. The climbers will reach the top of the tower next round.
Turn to you folks.

[Bartmanhomer]

Eric continues to shoot the demon hybrid with his shortbow.

Attack: (1d20+4)[7]
Damage: (1d6)[1]
Sneak Attack: (2d6)[10]

Critical:

Attack: (1d20+4)[5]
Damage: (3d6)[14]

[Marlowe]

Around Avita, a flutter of dark wings gather as she chants something about claws of the night coming unto her and welcoming as the break of day, or something suitably silly. Then she looses her Bat swarm into the Hybrids climb the tower.

[Bat swarm can hit 4 Hybrids for 1d6 damage each.

(1d6)[2]
(1d6)[4]
(1d6)[3]
(1d6)[6]

Any Hybrid wounded must take a DC 11 Fort Save or become Nauseated for one round.

Any Hybrid wounded must take 1 hp damage per turn until it makes a DC 10 heal check to staunch the bleeding.

And here's where we find out if they have damage reduction.]

[YossarianLives]

The scrambling hybrids continue their climb, but are quickly engulfed by Avita's swarm of bats. The myriad little mammals tear at their scaly flesh, leaving the demons covered in bleeding wounds. The hybrids hiss in pain and frustration, swiping at the bats with their hands, but they know their efforts are futile. Their ascent of the tower continues, the hybrids throwing themselves into the rain of projectiles. Eric's arrow goes wide, but one guardsman lands a solid hit on a hybrid's flank. The climbers are almost at the top now, their claws grasping the battlements, compound eyes bulging in your direction.

Down below, one hybrid makes it over the barricade, sustaining three pricks on the way. It throws itself at the gnomes, who brace themselves to hurl the attacker back - their pikes serve to keep the hybrid at a safe distance, its flailing strikes accomplishing nothing. More of it's kin begin to follow it over the barricade - the already-cramped tower will soon become nearly unnavigable.

Spoiler: OOC

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Your turn. The hybrid is now within range of Sarim and Andras, should they use reach weapons.

[Marlowe]

Avita steps back from the battlements. Frell it. It seems to be working. Is it going to work in time? Too fast for my liking.

Got to keep this going as long as I can.

She continues concentrating on the swarm, knowing that the longer she can keep it up the better the chance.

And she won't be able to keep it up if she's dead.

Spoiler: Swarm damage

Show

(1d6)[4]
(1d6)[1]
(1d6)[5]
(1d6)[1]

Saves and bleeding as before.

[Bartmanhomer]

Eric continues to shoot the demon hybrid with his shortbow.

Attack: (1d20+4)[5]
Damage: (1d6)[6]
Sneak Attack: (2d6)[8]

Critical:

Attack: (1d20+4)[20]
Damage: (3d6)[10]