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The orc is right, we need out of here now! Mon grabs the slowest person and then runs/drags them through the archway.
Mon then summons more energy within him to ignore the rending wound he has been dealt. [Spend one healing surge.]
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Libras D'lnar avatar by CSK
Last edited by Eldmor : 08-19-2008 at 02:25 PM.
Reason: Healing Surge
While not the slowest, She has been making a point of trying to be last. Mon grabs for her arm as she lingers near the back. She squawks angrily, tendrils of power forming at the back of her throat, her eyes glinting dangerously. She swipes at his hand with a taloned claw.
An unmistakable challenge, not to Mon's leadership, but to his assault on her person.
Spoiler
She isn't making an indication that she's staying behind. Just that she wants to be last.
The lizardman begins to limp away as fast as he can manage, having been hastily pulled back from the brink of death. He turns back momentarily to see what looks like the start of a fight between the hobgoblin and the harpy. He hurries on.
Rising, the Trog stretches, a layer of ice cracking from his scales. "It's going to take hours to warm up..." he grumbles. Seeing everyone moving off he makes to follow them, though he takes one more glance around the room. Spying the gear in the middle of the room left by dead adventurers, he calls out for the group to wait up.
Not wanting to go near the lightning arcing from pillar to pillar, Graese raises his hand and whispers a few words. A spectral hand appears next to the gear, and Graese commands it to drag the loot towards him.
Spoiler
Mage hand to get the loot.
Using 3 more healing surges to come back up to max.
Everyone makes their way towards the archway at the other end of the room while Graese stays behind for a few moments in order to magically drag the items in the center of the pillars towards him. It is an effort of concentration only and the items pass beneath the lightning unharmed.
The pile of items is mostly cast off pieces of leather and hide armor with about enough pieces to make one suit of each. However, beneath the cast off armor is a set of Scale Mail that to your eyes is simply magnificent. It's shining scales are sharpened, each possessing a razors edge while the plates at the shoulders, knees, and forearms are covered in wicked looking spikes. The armor, as magnificent as it is, is far from shining, its dark razored scales seeming to be coated with the dried blood of some past creature that got a bit too close. It is a shame that while your efforts managed to drag most of the cast off pieces of armor it did little to move that set of scales towards you for it still rests in the middle of the room, surrounded by the lightning pillars.
(Going to go after the not-so-shiny armor that practically has a neon sign over it saying 'GET ME!'? )
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Corpses: Crack open a cold one today!
S'theliss snarls, his eyes passing over the armour and disregarding it. He looks beyond the crackling energy of the pillars, to where the dragon was. With the pain of his wounds fresh and livid over his body, and his scales stained brown and crimson red with his own blood, he addresses the group. "This place runs deep." He hisses, "We should too."
She-Who-Walks' rebuke of Mon is stillborn in her throat as her eyes dilate at the glittering prize in the pillars. So beautiful. She wrests her arm from Mon's grasp and takes a wary step toward the pillars... and the prize.
Crowlike, she warbles... entranced. Mon barks his order and She whips around to glare at him. She brings the spear up between herself and Mon protectively and sidles toward the precipice to see if the dragon is winging their way. Her eyes dart all over the room. To the cavern, to Mon, to the shining armor.
Spoiler
If there is no dragon in sight, she will wave at Graese impatiently to hurry up. If there is a dragon in sight and it's headed their way, she will squawk an alarm and make for the archway.
Spying the wicked looking armour, something inside of Graese ignites. The blood stained razors lining the armour remind him of his set of knives he uses in his "sessions." Barely thinking, he takes a step forward between the two pillars. Almost in a trance he doesn't notice the sting as the lighting passes through him. Retrieving the armour, he runs a clawed finger along one of the razor's edge. Still sharp.
Being careful not to cut himself on on the razor sharp spines of the armour, Graese drags the amour towards out between the pillars. The second bolt brings him out of his trance. Away from the pillars, he looks down at the armour, wondering why he had gone through such an ordeal. He looks over at She, whose eyes seem to be darting towards him every so often. No, not at him, the armour.
Panting, he drags the armour towards She and presents it to her. "May your enemies feel the cut of your claws and the bite of your steel. For the King that Crawls."
Spoiler
Y'know, provided I don't die from lightning damage, of course.
She-Who-Walks see's nothing in the fungus lit darkness of the great central cavern, nothing to indicate where the scaled form of the Dragon is and the roar you heard a mere moment ago did sound rather distang. It would seem that for now the Dragon is willing to leave the party alone.
As S'theliss addresses the group and Mon starts to head through the archway Graese finds himself heading between the treacherous pillars in order to gain possession of the prize that they ring.
Lightning lashes out at the Troglodyte, flailing about the air like a living thing as it seeks the scaled flesh that dares pass through its domain though it finds only air as the form of Graese manages to pass through unscathed.
Graese picks up the heavy armor and holds it, the scales groaning slightly as they move, like a woeful beast whose thirst goes unquenched. The Troglodyte caresses the armor gently with the tip of a claw and quickly discovers that the edges of the scales are indeed still sharp, for that gentle caress cost Graese the tip of his claw.
He walks towards the party, the gaze of the Harpy following his every step, taking in every inch of the armor that can only be described as beautiful in her eyes. When Graese steps through the pillars once more he finds the aim of the lightning to be true and as it connects he feels a spastic heat crash through his form, removing any previous chill and replacing it with a surging, white hot pain that refuses to be denied.
With a half step Graese finds himself beyond the pillars, though with several scales having been burned from his right shoulder. Despite the pain Graese stands before She-Who-Walks and the others, prize in hand.
Spoiler
Graese takes 4 Lightning damage.
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Corpses: Crack open a cold one today!
The dragon appears to be gone and She-Who-Walks edges away from the precipice towards the other lizard creature and his shining burden. She croons at the armor as the light of the arcing bolts plays across the razors.
The troglodyte holds the armor out to her, the stench of its cooking scales reaching the harpy's nose. Yes... this is as it should be. She reaches out a claw to run it over the metal scales, careful.
Remembering where they are and who she is with, She's eyes flash. "And for the Queen that Soars."
Those are the first words the harpy has spoken. Her voice is a deep, gravelly warble, seeming to have two tones at once that harmonize - harsh and sweet. Powerful.
She she snatches the tribute away from the lizard thing's claws and backs towards a wall, eyes darting to the others challenging them to take her glittering prize. She makes that strange drawn out quorking that seems to be a warning of sorts. Holding her longspear and the armor to her chest she seems torn between wanting to stop and properly examine the armor and the necessity of leaving the deadly room.
Her breath clouds around her face, a reminder of the dragon's dread might.
At the last, she decides to scurry through the archway with her prize. Her expression as she passes Graese is flat, considering, but it twists into her characteristic snarl as she passes the goblinoid.
Spoiler
I'm not acutally sure how encumbrance works in 4e (and I don't have access to books atm) but she's carrying 131 lbs at the moment and 120 is her STR*10 limit. Movement penalty?
Last edited by ES Sparky : 08-21-2008 at 01:30 PM.
She-Who-Walks holds onto the armor as one would a cherished lover, gently stroking the scales with the tip of her talon, careful not to feel the bite of those blood coated scales. However, the armor is heavy and when added to that of her current weapons and armor it becomes burdening. She must carry her gear in both hands and her movement is now a third of what it used to be. Apparently if she wishes to be of use in battle she must be rid of some of her equipment.
Spoiler
Yes. You are considered to be Slowed and it takes both of your hands to lug that equipment around.
The passage beyond the archway is a long, snaking thing that slowly leads the party northwards. Unlike the previous passages this one is not caked with mud and grime and though the steps are worn and a little small they do not do much in the way of hindering your movement.
After several minutes of walking the passage widens into a small landing that isn't quite large enough for the entire party enter at once. The small space, some eight foot by twelve foot contains only a door on it's northern wall.
The door is sturdy oak, reinforced with straps of iron and bolts. As you examine the room and the door you hear the by now familiar crackling of lightning coming from beyond the door. Apparently you can expect more lightning runes or pillars to be on the other side.
As you finish examining the room, door, and the noise, She-Who-Walks slowly moves down the steps behind you, catching up with her heavy load a minute or so after the rest of the party had arrived. Though this spot is small and probably not perfect it would seem like a good place for a short rest, Lakzyr knows you need it.
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Corpses: Crack open a cold one today!
Ok, I'm new on this thing... how do I use a Healing surge? Do I just use it? >.> Also how long are we talking between the use of encounter powers outside of combat? Sorry to have to ask so blatantly, been without internet for a day and trying to get caught up post-haste >.<
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We are considering this break a short rest, so use as many healing surges as you want. As for encounter powers outside of combat, I just treat it as they're refreshed when the next combat happens. Prevents people from begging the healers instead of spending surges out-of-combat.
The lizardfolk steps gingerly up through the group, to the door. Reaching out one hand, he slowly runs his fingers down the hard oak of the door, increasing the pressure until the ends of his sharp claws and pressing into the wood. He places the hand flat against the door, and then reaches up and pulls forth one of his longswords. His tongue flickers out against the hard scales of his mouth. "It looks safe," he whispers, "but what's on the other side?"
The harpy rounds the last bend with a clatter of plates and scales. She stops as she sees the others and hears their lowered voices. She is not a creature built for portage and burdens, rather for flying and agility.
When it seems like the group is taking a pause, she carefully lowers the glittering bladed scalemail onto the floor of the entrance to the narrow room. She fishes a sticky, crumbling cake from her belt pouch. She murmurs what seems to be a prayer over the food and sits on her haunches over the armor, munching quietly, taking occasional swigs from a waterskin and running her claws delicately along the metal scales.
When her meal is done, She-Who-Walks unbuckles the burdensome, clanking platemail. The badge of her great shame. A token granted to those who failed the Rites. Those who would never mount the skies again.
When you cannot fly, it doesn't matter the armor you wear. The heavy plate, a constant reminder of the failure. In a short time the harpy has a pile of discarded armor next to her. She spits on the pile and squawks a curse before turning to her tribute. Her prize. Her eyes grow wide, claws flexing in anticipation as she reaches out and begins putting on the beautiful blades and scales. She croons to herself, pausing only to squawk or warble a warning at the others if they appear to be taking too much notice.
Using 4 healing surges to bring myself from 1hp up to 28hp (my max)
A note, when you were brought back to consciousness by the Heal check that She made it spent a healing surge and put you at 0 + HealingSurgeValue hitpoints. So instead of having to heal up from 1hp, it should be more like healing up from 6 or 7, whatever your surge value is. If that's not clear enough, we can take it into PMs and I'll explain more.
Actually, for those who were unconscious and were 'healed' by She's First Aid checks, be sure to mark off the surge for that.
Oh >.>m Didn't know that. Oddly enough, it doesn't change anything <,< I was 1 point over my max by the use of 4 surges, and using 1 then 3 instead of 4 at once equals out the same <@_@> good to know though! Thanks!
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After everyone reaches back to the door moon lets out a snarl and spits at the nearby wall.
That was one klag of a fight back there. I'm sure if we all put more effort next time, we can slay it! Mon then gives that evil, glinting eye glare to S'theliss. He was able to pierce the dragon's hide and I wasn't even able to hit the fruking thing! Mon's jealousy and anger sears the Lizardfolk's brain. He knows to keep working hard.
S'theliss feels strangely... motivated, but he nevertheless turns on Mon with a cynical reply, "I think we have too. It's eaten here or..." he breaks into a snickering grin and motions upwards, "...eaten there, remember?"
Sitting down to rest, his back against a wall, he watches the harpy from the corner of his eye. As she finishes donning the armour, Graese smiles. He nods at the bloodstained scales. "It looks good on you, Redscale."
He looks over at the lizardfolk. "Do you still have that bone? Its light is out, you may have dropped it during the battle. If you like I can light it again when we continue on." His eyes squint for a second, "Did... did you tell me your name? I think I may have forgotten it."
Spoiler
A tale of damage and healing
-Knocked below 0 (0/24)
-'stabilised' and second winded (6/24)
-Walked through lightning (2/24) (looking back, probably not a great idea, but I thought I had used my healing surges at the time)
-short rest, 3 healing surges. (20/24)
S'theliss scowls at the troglodyte and claps one hand to the fur covering his scaly chest. The bone is no longer there. "I am S'theliss. Your trinket is gone."
If everyone could tell me what their HP total is and how many healing surges they've used total that would be helpful. Also if you could tell me what kind of rest you are taking, short or extended, that would also be helpful.
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Corpses: Crack open a cold one today!
I was planning on a short rest. She hadn't used any encounter powers (apart from Second Wind to trigger healing surges... if that's how you're handling it. I keep her sheet updated at Mythweavers. 3/13 healing surges spent so far.
Is there anything to note about the armor (or should I make Arcana checks?)? I updated She's sheet with standard scale stats.
EDIT: Doh, not trained in Arcana. Checks would be rather unrevealing.
Last edited by ES Sparky : 08-23-2008 at 04:51 PM.
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