Talon and Claw. (A Diabolical Campaign)

[Myshlaevsky]

"Uh-huh."

The lizardman tucks the bone into the rough strap holding his longswords to his back. He follows Mon further on into the dark, ruined cathedral. He draws both swords as he walks.

[DiabolicalFurby]

The mud quivers for a moment, as if something massive is moving about in some unseen distant room. It is an eerie movement, one that instantly has your full attention. Whatever is in here has claws, teeth, and if the ground's quivering is any indication, size.

The lights on the pillar before you start to pulse sporadically, fading in an out faster and faster even as some discharge small bolts of lightning into the mud that makes up the floor. Quicker and quicker they flash and after a moment they are strobing violently.

In the distance you hear the sound of claws being raked against metal and stone, the clawing coming quickly as if in anticipation.

Then suddenly the runes are snuffed out, casting the room in near darkness, the only light a single glowing bone in the hands of Graese.

It is then you hear the roar. It is a monsterous cacophony of hate and malice that seems to make the very air vibrate.

It is a roar of freedom. It is the roar of the hunter.

It is the roar of a horror unleashed.

(Sorry for the relatively undetailed post. Hard day at the office. )

[Eldmor]

Shruk! Mon said aggressively while keeping his voice down. If they didn't make a move, whatever was down the hallway was going to fruk them up first. It's a dicey move, but you need to take risks to win.
Mon pulls out his flail and light shield. He then takes a sunrod out of his pack, scratches one of his tusks against the tip, and then throws the miraculously bright stick as far as he can down the hallway.

Spoiler

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OOC: Forcing fights to happen is fun.

[Jokes]

Graese

As the hobgoblin throws the glowsitck, Graese reaches into his robe and pulls out a small black orb.

"This had better be the challenge," he whispers, "if not, I can't imagine what could be."

[stupnick]

Gli'lix

Sneaking around trying to get to a position where he can hide, Gli'lix attempts to try to identify the creatures roar.

Nature - (1d20)[3]
Arcana - (1d20)[15]
Stealth - (1d20+11)[23]

btw can we get a map?

[ES Sparky]

A scraping of stone... It comes. She-Who-Walks lifts her blood-smeared face from the flesh of a fallen seeker. It was the last she'd eat from that corpse, She had felt maggots squirming in the darkness. The meat would not be good much longer. The maggots would do. But It was coming. Sustenance would wait. Tightening her grip on the longspear, she moves by feel into a nearby alcove, bracing the butt of the spear into the back of the narrow opening.

Voices. She-Who-Walks lifts her head listening, quickly one way... the other way. She warbles to herself, "Chirrup?"

She leans forward, Seekers... come to take glory. My glory! She coils herself down, broken wing stumps folding close to her back. She strains to see in the maddening darkness, irises a slim yellow-gold band around large black pupils. Light flares around the corner... she flinches.

More scraping. She holds her breath. A small light. She's keen eyes pick out more details in the surroundings. And then, in a rapid succession of sounds, It roars. A bright light makes a swift looping arc past her alcove. The harpy squawks in pain and closes her eyes against the sudden light.

[Eldmor]

Mon watched the rod stop abruptly in an alcove. What was more important, someone was there. Mon briskly walks up to the clawed creature and stands above it sternly.
You're too small to make these marks. You're going to help us us get rid of whatever made these marks. Mon hefts his flail in his shield-hand while he talks and gives it the most sinister of gazes. That gaze of 'do it or I will turn your world into hurt, pain, and misery'.

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Intimidating She-Who-Walks (1d20+9=28)
Not the friendliest group invite, but it'll do for now.

[DiabolicalFurby]

Mon's sunrod lights up the dark room and reveals it fully for the first time. To the west is the passage you came through while to the east is another large passage but it is from the north that the mighty roar hailed from and it is in this direction that Mon throws the rod.

The sunrod sails through the air and over the crouched form of a very heavily armed woman, appearing to be the cross of Elf and Hawk with two scarred wing stumps on her back, the rest clad in solid plate armor. The rod lands some ten feet behind the strange woman to reveal a small alcove some fifteen feet deep. The small tunnel is five foot tall and five foot wide, too small to traverse comfortably but still passable. At the end of the tunnel is old, shoddy brickwork that does little to seal the end of the tunnel due to massive gaps in the wall where bricks are missing.

It is due to the gaps in the brickwork that you see movement a split second before it strikes.

The brick wall at the end of the tunnel explodes, filling the air with dust even as a deafening reptilian roar fills the air. Suddenly the small tunnel is filled with the long neck and head of a massive scaled horror, it's toothy maw snapping at She-Who-Walks though she is only a few feet away.

It claws furiously at the end of the tunnel in an attempt to make the space large enough for it to get a hold of the armored harpy. It's efforts causing the small tunnel to quake violently, large pieces of stone falling from the roof even as larger parts are ripped from the walls by the things claws. After a mere instant the great creature releases a frustrated roar and withdraws, it's massive jaws grabbing the sunrod as it retreats into the darkness of whatever lies beyond the tunnel.

No sooner than it leaves the small tunnel starts to collapse as massive chunks of natural stone fall inward from all sides, effectively sealing the small tunnel and leaving the group standing in the entrance room, in frightened awe of the events that happened in a mere matter of seconds.

You are, however, no mere group of initiates, but instead chosen heroes of your respective peoples and that is perhaps how you managed to keep your calm. Your eyes spotted what others might not have in the glow of the sunrod. You noticed the scales covering the creatures head and neck when it entered the tunnel, the large white scales appearing to glow like embers in the light of the sunrod. Your eyes saw the thing for what it was, even if everything happened in the span of three heartbeats.

Your elders speak of them in hushed whispers or in great stories that are filled with magic and awe. You know of these creatures.

You know of these Dragons.

[mistformsquirrl]

Gorthunk Facesmasher

As the dust begins to settle in the eastern passage, a rough silhouette can be made out by the faint glow of the sunrod. Tall and broad, thickly muscled about the shoulders and chest, carrying a heavy steel blade, and... running directly toward the assembled Claws...

"Gang-way!"

The orc manages to skid to a stop just a few feet from the assembled party, having nearly bowled right into them. Righting himself, Gorthunk takes stock first of his own condition (very dusty, but surprisingly intact)

"... thrice-damned oracle never said anything about flying lizards...", and then gives a glance across the unexpected crew he's just come into contact with. "Huh... didn't expect to find anyone else down here either... this day just keeps getting more and more interesting. ... Well what are you lot standing around for? There's a damned dragon loose down here, don't just stand there, get some cover!"

[Eldmor]

don't just stand there, get some cover!

When Mon hears these words, he feels mildly annoyed. Who's this chump of an orc to tell him to get cover? Nonetheless, it's another body in a fight, which will valuable against their 'trial'.
Cover is the last thing we need. We need to get rid of this dragon before it causes a cave-in and kills us all. Last thing I want to be remembered by is being caved-in by a hrukken lizard. He takes no mind of the Lizardfolk.
Now let's get done with this. Mon leads the party east, despite there being people more suited towards defense in the group. He still keeps close, though.

[Jokes]

Graese

Calm might not be the best term to describe Graese's current mental state. He might have looked it if his jaw wasn't so wide open. First a wingless harpy, then a dragon (a Dragon!) and now an orc.

He follows Mon, too dmbfounded to do much else.

[ES Sparky]

She squawks her indignation and scrambles backwards from Mon, her longspear's blade keeping him at bay. She whips around at the roar behind her and scrambles to the side as snapping jaws close too close for comfort. Her feathers are standing on end in a ragged ruff around the finely chiseled features of her face.

Her clawed bird feet move well and with little resistance through the mud, a rare benefit enjoyed by the earth-bound. The chamber rumbles as the beast thrashes madly, and the bird woman recoils again, wishing for the freedom of open skies.

The snapping head withdraws and battlefervor leaves She's body trembling faintly. She squints at the assortment of beastmen, new seekers, who have come into the muddy subterranean pit. She sneers. Males.

She quorks a long low warning at Mon as she backs away from him and the others, the tip of her spear weaving back and forth between her the many encroachers, her eyes darting swiftly, birdlike, from face to face.

"Gang-way!"

The armored woman screeches and whips the longspear around at the new encroacher. Another male!? There will be no rwalke in this... She bares her teeth at everyone and makes a hissing warble at Mon. It is clear from her body language, and the spear she holds that she is not enthused about her present company.

There may be rwalke yet. If that was a dragoness, perhaps I will spit their bodies on my spear and feed them to her. And then she will not eat She. She's postures straightens and her feathers lay smooth, she seems mollified for the moment.

The harpy resists any attempts to make her fall in with the rest. But, when they have passed, she follows dutifully enough.

[stupnick]

Gli'lix

Listening to everything and watching things closely from the shadows. Gli'lix trails behind everyone and out of sight.

[Myshlaevsky]

The lizardman clambers back from the collapsing aperture, sliding across the rough stone on clawed feet. He crouches to the floor, looking in turn at each of the new arrivals, then staring into the blossoming dust of the ruined tunnel. His hands shake a little, making the tips of his swords weave and clatter. The furious, illumined eyes of the dragon in the dark are hard to forget.

He stands up when Mon leaves, and paces uneasily behind the hobgoblin, often looking back. He mouths four words silently, in Draconic - "Watch your tongue, Hobgoblin."

[Jokes]

Graese

Finally regaining his composure, or at least enough of it, Graese tries to remember what he knows about the dragon.

Spoiler

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Nature (1d20+6)[14]

[DiabolicalFurby]

The group heads east, into another descending passage leading farther into the earth. Like the first passage this one is also mud slicked and rather treacherous, especially in the near darkness.

After several moments the group finds themselves in a massive room some fifty feet wide and seventy feet long with a high domed ceiling held aloft by eight rune scribed pillars. Unlike the pillar in the previous room these pillars are still alight, their pulsing blue runes crackling with power even as lightning arcs from one pillar to another followed by a deafening roar of thunder.

Everywhere there are bones scattered on the muddy stone floor and several rusted shackles are attached to the wall. Whatever this place was it is apparent that things suffered here. The eastern wall directly across from where you enter has an archway, another passage leading down no doubt but between you and the passage, in the center of the arcing lightning of the pillars, is a pile of discarded leathers and weapons, no doubt from those who thought to be Claws in the past

You notice that the entire northern wall is gone, leaving a gaping hole, beyond is an incredibly massive cavern lit by luminescent fungus, allowing you to make out the cavern's proportions. The cavern must be a few hundred feet wide and perhaps as many feet long and it is obvious that the opening places this room towards the top of cavern, for the bottom of the cavern appears to be several dozen feet below.

Though in the cavern through the northern wall's opening you can see the Dragon as it lazily soars through the air, its white form appearing a sickly greenish blue as its scales reflect the light from the fungus. It turns slowly in the air and starts to head towards you, no doubt spotting you in the light of the pillars.

The Dragon is some distance away in the large cavern, giving you the chance to either prepare for battle or to pass through the lightning and head into the passage beyond.

[mistformsquirrl]

Gorthunk

"Damned! We're spotted. I don't suppose one of you all has a plan for taking down that scaly vulture?"

After saying this, Gorthunk plants his feet firm, eyes fixed on the circling monstrosity. He begins to pray aloud for strength, courage, and power enough to overcome the beast. You catch the mumbled names of Kord, Bahamut and Bane all together as he chants; the pace increasing as the dragon closes with the group.

[Eldmor]

I'm not one to give up on a challenge. Mon gives a daring grin and braces his body for the coming fight.

[Jokes]

Graese

"Are you sure we should be fighting it here? Maybe we should get somewhere it can't swoop us."

[mistformsquirrl]

Gorthunk

Finishing his pre-battle prayer, Gorthunk gives Graese a nod.

"Sound thinking. I'm up for ideas, where do you have in mind?"

[Jokes]

Graese

Graese points down past the lightning jumping across the room, to the passageway. "Well, we could always make a run for it." He considers the lightning for a moment. "I wonder what could be controlling it?"

Spoiler

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arcana: (1d20+9)[13]
perception: (1d20+1)[9] (to see if there's a switch)

[stupnick]

Gli'lix

Drawing his rapier and waiting for everyone else to get ready for combat, He slinks into a corner to make sure the dragon won't have a chance at spotting him

(1d20+11)[14] stealth

[mistformsquirrl]

Gorthunk

"Good thinking indeed..."

Gorthunk looks about as swiftly as he's able, seeking anything that may explain or control the electricity.

[spoilers]Perception (1d20+3)[8]
Arcana (1d20+5)[16]
[/spoilers]

[DiabolicalFurby]

There doesn't appear to be anything that controls the pillars in this room and the magical knowledge of the party is somewhat lacking when it comes to magical constructs of this particular nature.

Though in the instant it takes for you to rummage through your memories and gaze about the room the Dragon has moved quite a bit closer.

It spreads its jaws wide in anticipation as it braces its legs for a hard landing. Its eyes are like living ice and the air about its mouth fogs even as it releases another reptilian roar.

Whatever you are going to do, it is apparent that you do not have much time.

[ES Sparky]

If dragon legends held true, the great beasts were feared for many things, chief among them blasts of elemental breath. Followed by insatiable hunger and a generally irascible nature.

She warbles uncertainly to herself and then, with astonishing resolve, or terrible foolishness, runs directly toward the center of the gaping hole in the north wall. Her belly twists as she stands over the precipice into the echoing cavern... falling was not a danger... before. Resolute, She holds her longspear aloft, her other arm stretched wide. She inhales deeply, the plates of her armor shifting, the feathers on her body standing up, ruffled, "Stop, Dragon! We are the Claws who will fight the Talon! We are the Claws of Lakzyr! We come to claim his standard!"

Spoiler

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OOC: If the dragon continues its dive or makes to breathe, She will wait as long as she dares and then dive to the right or left, whichever seems the likeliest, if the time comes.

Diplomacy (if appropriate): 20

[DiabolicalFurby]

The Dragon's gaze is fixed on She as she makes her resolute stand on the edge of the room. The Dragon continues to head towards her, only spreading its wings to slow itself at last minute.

She-Who-Walks holds her position for as long as she can, only jumping out of the way a mere instant before the Dragon slams into the floor, filling the air with debris and the dust of old bones crushed beneath it's massive bulk. She rolls to a stop some ten feet away, gaining her feet even as the Dragon turns its massive head to once more release a deafening, primal roar the fills the massive room.

"You are prey." the Dragon growls in the Draconic language as it moves forward with hostile intent.

Initiative

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21 Gli'lix
18 White Dragon
15 Mon Nailgrinder
14 She Who Walks
10 Graese
07 S'theliss
02 Gorthunk Facesmasher

Battle Grid

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__|A|B|C|D|E|F|G|H|I|J|K|L|M|N|
01|=|=|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|=|=|=|=|
02|B| | |H| |d|d| | | | | | | |
03| | | | | |d|d| | | | | | | |
04| | | | | |*| |*| | | | | | |
05|T|G| | | | | | | | | | | | |
06>L|O| | |*| | | |*| | | | | <
07| | | | | | |$| | | | | | | |
08| | | | |*| | | |*| | | | | |
09| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
10| | | | | |*| |*| | | | | | |
11| | | | | | | | | | | | | | |

B= Gli'lix.
H= She Who Walks
T= Graese
L= S'theliss
G= Mon Nailgrinder
O= Gorthunk Facesmasher

d= DRAGON!

= is a wall.
- is the end of the floor and the begining of the chasm.
* is a runescribed pillar.
$ is a pile of loot in the center of the pillars.

(Too many of you had names that started with the same letter so the capital letter representing you reflects your race/species and not your name )

(Go ahead and post your actions and I'll bring things up to speed tomorrow.)

[stupnick]

Delay to 17

[Eldmor]

Mon approaches the dragon flail drawn.
Tear him apart, Harpy!
The Hobgoblin swings his flail at the dragon but it harmlessly bounces off some chitin. Mon doesn't look happy about this turn of events.

Spoiler

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Ferocious Smash, vs Fortitude (1d20+4=6) SWING and a miss.
Move to E2

[ES Sparky]

Heart pounding in her chest, She dives out of the way. She comes up in a clatter of metal and leather, hissing. The dragon speaks, the lines of its body and posture promising death. Cold radiates from it, a burning ache. The paladin rises to her feet a snarl twisting her sharp features.

She circles the beast moving away from the precipice and, then... lunges! Screaming, shrieking, funneling Melora's wrath at the dragon.

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Minor: Divine Challenge on the dragon
Move: Move to E4 via D4
Standard: Enfeebling Strike, CHA vs AC, 1W+4 and marked target is at -2 to attacks 19.
Damage: 5

[Jokes]

Graese
Moving to get a better shot, Graese stands there, focusing his will on the dragon.

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Shift to A4
Illusiory ambush
(1d20+4)[14] vs will
(1d6+5)[7]
no minor