Whom the gods would destroy... — Legacy Forums

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#121

- DMG indicates spells cast by the protected against creature type do not work against the target. I can get you the page number tonight :)

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#122

Kyrian almost missed Adan's call in the heat of battle; the demon's roars, thundering of hooves and weapons' song were heavy in the air. Still, the thought and the plan behind it came through to him, and to distract the fiend he sought, to facilitate a favorable flow of events.

"Verily that was a cantrip, utterly terrifying! Try one more on me!" he called as he slashed across the demon's arms as it raised them in a conjuring gesture. "What, no magic left?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#123

Rolled 1d20 : 10, total 10 to hit the bastard

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#124

The sticky tar stopped the valiant Kyrian once more, but by the gods, not for lack of effort. Kyrian was a panther possessed, taunting the demon as he danced, but came just short again of eviscerating the beast with another strike.

Kadarin tensed once more. He had to do something, but his exertion was taking a toll, and he had so few spells left...

The demodand had had enough now. His own magic had failed him, unable he was(!) to reach the now giant shield-man and his troublesome mage, through their arcane defenses.

Enough! He would show them what he could do. He would remind them why demons were to be feared. He would remind them of all their childhood nightmares, and their mothers' whispers of warning. He would remind them what it meant to brazenly assault one of his kind.

The demodand lunged at Kyrian. He imagined the joy of tearing the knight limb from limb as he launched.

(16:50:12) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 3d20 and gets 16,6,11.

The knight's agility was truly impressive. A single strike of a lumbering fore-arm smashed against Kyrian, but he somehow managed to avoid a full-on attack. The pain in his shoulder and side was excruciating.

damage to Kyrian 4 (2-7 claw hit, rolled)

stick roll: (to determine if Farastu is now attached/glued to Kyrian, 5%) http://strolen.com/guild/Themes/Winter30smfRC2/images/dice_warn.gif This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d100 : 68, total 68

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#125

no stick on Kyrian. Kadarin has retro-action still. Vorodon & Adan can attack.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#126

As Vorodon lunged to the attack, Adan backpeddled, his enlarged hand reaching out to grab the haywagon he had been shouting about. With a whipping action, he slung the cart along the ground towards the hell-beast, only to stop it at the last moment, and flip it in the direction of the faratsu, a great cloud of straw and hay issuing forth over the demon. With luck, he could blind the thing, using its own tarry skin against it.

I imagine you want something to gauge the effect of it, though it's basically an area attack, maybe 10' wide at most.
Rolled 1d20 : 8, total 8

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#127

Kadarin, with perhaps the strength to cast one last spell, instead stood quietly within the circle of protection. He thought about his sling, but he was more likely to bean someone other then the demonic creature.

Someday, if he survived, he would do better. Much better.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#128

No roll necessary

The Farastu was focusing on the ogre and knight (that confounded taunter!), and did not notice the wheeling hay-wagon until the last possible second. It was too late then. Adan the Giant had flipped the wagon easily enough, and now the drying grass engulfed the demodand. The beast roared at this new affront, as if it was being devoured by a straw elemental

Straw and hay flew everywhere, bits sticking to Vorodan, the whirling Kyrian, and the giant Adan. The demodand however received the brunt of the wagon's load, and was completely hidden from view for a few seconds. In its place a beast of hay now flailed its limbs in fury.

Vorodon gets to attack at +2 this round, due to Demodand's hay bath, which worked mostly because Kyrian was keeping Demodand quite busy with strikes and insults. Then group initiative roll again. Demodand rolls...http://strolen.com/guild/Themes/Winter30smfRC2/images/dice_warn.gif This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d10 : 9, total 9

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#129

Rolled well for us in the chat room, so voro gets two swings, we all get one before the demo.

Spinning away from the flying cart, Adan brought his sword up into the classical Ochs position, his hand high, the elbow pointed back, his arm arced over his head, the blade pointing directly at the demon, before he brought it down hard and fast, a mighty blow in Oberhau, as he screamed, "For Trigu!"

And at long last, a blade drew demonic ichor forth, the runes along the blade hissing with a rage of light and sparks as it tasted of the magic in the demon's blood... and thirsted for it.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#130

First Blood! Demo's HP tally. Had 70, Adan did 8. Has 62.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#131

Aerex Matare

It had been quite an experience, the Regatta. Wind howling at his back, salt-ladden waves splashing his face, every muscle on his body straining and rebelling against the necessary and constant work involved. Talia seemed to take to sailing like a fish to water, and before long, it was hard to distinguish between the captain and the gypsy warrior. Vorodon as well, thanks to his prodigious strength and can-do attitude proved to be an invaluable crew member of the Vermilion Wind.

Until that is, he vanished into the cold, vast seas in one split second. Aerex had seen from the corner of his eye, how the mighty half-ogre was hauling line, then watched in horror, as a small but powerful wave knocked him into the drink.

Panicking, because he realized in that moment, that the Vermilion Wind, making fifteen knots now, was not going to suddenly stop mid-race to trawl for the half-ogre, Aerex screamed Vorodon’s name into the frothy seas around him. The captain, ever vigilant, did in fact steer the vessel suddenly sideways, yelling for her crew to fish the giant out of the waves, yet to everyone’s surprise, the half-ogre was nowhere to be seen. It was if he had gone down like a rock.

Aerex suddenly felt he had no choice, though his own decision irked him, he felt himself moving almost involuntarily, and dove headlong into the choppy seas after his comrade in arms, sailor rope in hand.

The next thing that happened was horrific. Racing along-side the Vermillion Wind was another long-ship, the Screaming Eagle. With both ships travelling at break-neck speeds, disaster struck, when the captain of the Vermillion Wind attempted to maneuver the ship to save Vorodon and moments later, Aerex. The two ships crashed, a sickening crack could be heard as the two vessels momentarily collided and…

------------------------------------

What happened next, Aerex was not quite sure. He was not even aware of the crash ahead, temporarily losing all sense of time and place in the thrashing waters, only to feel himself being swept up by a massive wave, and sent spiraling into deeper water, as he lost consciousness.
------------------------------------

When he came to, he found himself floating in the middle of nowhere, no land, much less Jantir’s harbor could he spy in any direction. He could not even tell if he was still in the great Bay of Screaming Eagles, or if fortune had frowned on him, and deposited him further into open ocean.

As Aerex floated, thoughts came unbidden like an internal kaleidoscope, the Regatta, Talia (!), Voro, (!) Jantir, his father, the bizarre experience with the Tagma Drakontas…no recent event seemed important, only survival mattered now.

-----------------------------------
Months later, Aerex was standing aboard deck of the “One Good Tern”, a frigate bound for northern harbors. He was saved by the crew, one of the Empire’s ships, and offered to be dropped off at their next port-of-call, a small town with a deep-water harbor, and an impressive sea-wall, named Thonrecht. Thonrecht, as Aerex had been explained, was a minor holding of some old, northern clan, called Hellschwert, ringed by sheer sea-cliffs. The Empire held little if no sway here. This was an old city, proud, and set in its ways.

When Aerex inquired about Jantir, he was told it lay four hundred nautical miles south and west, and that with any luck he would find another ship to take him back at Thonrecht’s deep-water harbor.

Now two full months after disappearing below the waves during Jantir’s Regatta, Aerex Matare, once of the Empire, finds himself approaching new shores and new adventures, his past still burdening his mind.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#132

Aerex looked out uneasily at the sea from the docks of Thonrecht. Like it had for the past fifty-three days he'd looked out, the sun rose, casting an orange hue on the water. And just as he'd done for fifty-three days, Aerex sighed and wondered exactly how he'd gotten here. Did the Vermillion Wind win the Regatta? Did Talia find her father, or figure out why she and the captain bore such a striking resemblance?

Was she still looking for him?

That question nagged him, for reasons he couldn't figure out. And then there was Vorodon, the faithful Volgottoi who'd saved his butt more than enough times to make them practically brothers. Was he alright? Did he still travel with Talia and the others?

He sighed again. Surely his ship would one day come in. In the meantime, he'd been hanging around little Thonrecht. It was a quaint town, one he could get used to if he'd had half a mind to do so. The people were kind enough, if not a little aloof, and the food and drink was fine. But his heart was set on leaving the place and finding Jantir again. He headed off to what the locals called the "dockmaster's quarter," a little wooden shanty on the edge of the docks. To anyone in Jantir it would be indistinguishable from an outhouse, but here it was the office of the harbor's manager. He smiled at the older gentleman behind the counter, who was just sipping his morning tea. "Fine morning, Cosmas," he greeted. Aerex had hung out at the docks long enough now to be on somewhat friendly terms with the old sailor. "Expecting any deep-water ships today?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#133

“Nay, Matare. Not until the big gales out there blow off”, the old man gestured to the sea, obviously referring to some far-away currents, as Thonrecht’s morning was rather mild and wind-free this day.

“I told you I’d tell you, didn’ I?” he chided. “But you never did tell me what—hang on” , the old man creaked his legs, and reached for something in some moth-ridden drawer. “There is an ambassador from Jantir who lives on Thunder’s Way. Melitus by name. A lonely fellow, he has little to do here. The Hellschwerts, what’s left of them, don’t much care for Jantirian politics, not since ‘The Insult’ a century ago. Why don’t you go visit him, while you wait for a ship. He will be glad to see a fellow ‘Imperial’. You could swap tales, and he happens to also own the fastest messenger service in the city. He sends birds to Jantir with messages weekly, terns, swift and well-trained. If there is some love that awaits word of your survival with baited breath, you can reach out to her.” The old man smiled and closed his eyes, ready for his morning nap.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#134

Aerex's eyes narrowed a little. "Yeah..." was all he could find words for. What did the old man know? For a moment, thoughts of conspiracy leapt to his mind, probably seeds planted by the Tagma Drakontas. But just as soon he dismissed it: old men often had a sixth sense about things thanks to their experience. "Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, Cosmas."

Aerex headed off down the Thunder Road, feeling a bit more hopeful than before. Perhaps this Melitus would become a friend, an ally, seeing as they were both foreigners in a foreign land (even if the Dynast did claim these lands). He might be able to get a ship here quicker than waiting for Cosmas' ghost ships to arrive, and maybe he could even get word to Talia. Fanciful thoughts ran through his head, far-fetched though they were.

After asking for directions from a few of the villagers, Aerex finally found the home of the Imperial ambassador. Aerex removed his old floppy hat, pulling his hair into some semblance of order - I've got to get this cut soon, he thought as he ran narrow fingers through the long black locks. After a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#135

Moments later he was already deep in conversation with one, Melitus, 143rd Dynast's Ambassador, and drinking Jantirian coffee, rich and satisfying.

"What news of Jantir? The many-faced god bless you for coming!"

"Their nerve rankles me more than anything. After all, this city and harbor are claimed by the Dynast by rights! Yet these mono-theistic heathens act as if they're still true lords, and we some misbegotten visitors."

"So cold here the winters, my scrotum freezes over. One time I--"

"Well, yes, ermm--I would change my location if I could, I am after all a well-respected ambassador of his imperial majesty, but I-umm, well, yes, someone has to be here. I volunteered to bring the light. Truth be told---this post is more a sentence than an appointment."

"Yes, i have the best messenger birds in the realm. Small boon though, considering this hell hole. But it is not easy to train terns. These birds are somewhat prized."

"A young girl "rules here", Thea. The Hellschwerts send her here to 'govern' to spit in our face!"

"The Regatta? Well yes, I will be receiving news from that event in a few days, when the terns return. They say a great storm blows far out to sea."

"You haven't heard? The Hellschwerts feud with the Von Hellens, open war, and demons hold sway over their forsaken, bleak lands. They say the devil has come to Landeel....agian."

"Luckily, none of the fighting has reached us here. Thea stays behind her walls, and the Von Hellens are occupied elsewhere. They say they siege Brightblade Keep itself.

"Where are my manners? How can I help you, my fellow Jantirian, here in dreary Thonrecht?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#136

Far off, a tarred-and-hayed knight was regaining his bearings. "Is that the best you can do?" Prancing around the roaring haystack, he waited 'till the blinded beast turned its 'back' - or what seemed to be a back - and let it have a classical 'Mordschlag' swing, with his entire body behind it as a twisted spring, the blade describing three quarters of a circle before impacting; too risky it was to attempt in a duel, yet with a foe blinded and stumbling?

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall!"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#137

To hit:Rolled 1d20 : 6, total 6
Le damage:Rolled 3d6+3 : 4, 1, 1 + 3, total 9

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#138

Kadarin watched the melee, with both amusement and fear. The thing by no means was mastered, and the tide of battle could shift in a heartbeat.

Kadarin fished out his spellbook, grabbed a handful of items from his pocket and began loudly chanting.

"Othrgar me' Nahathan! Othrgar me' Lathahana! "

Kadarin repeated this sequence, varying the words slightly with each phrase, and slowly increasing the volume each time.

Gibberish of course, but seeking to play with the Demodand's head...

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#139

Aerex sighed, propping his head up on his arm. The coffee was good, something he hadn't tasted in weeks, maybe even months, he could hardly remember now. "That's a fine question, Melitus," he nodded. "I'm not quite certain myself. I was part of the Regatta, a crewman on the Vermillion Wind with my companions, a silver-haired gypsy named Talia and one of the Volgottoi, Vorodon by name. Somehow - I'm still not really certain how - I found myself in the water and eventually washed up here. Been waiting for a ship to come in for nigh on two months."

He sipped his coffee again and leaned forward. "I may be grasping at straws here, but I'm wondering if you couldn't try and get a message to Talia. I'm not sure how, I've no idea where she could be staying, or if she's even in Jantir anymore. If they did win the Regatta, they'd be easier to find, and it would be hard to miss Vorodon wherever he goes." His eyes wandered a bit in thought. "If they did win the Regatta, they would have met the Harbormaster. That was our original purpose in Jantir," he explained. "Perhaps you could contact him, see if he's met her. Talia Bladedancer is her name, she's one hard to miss if you met her."

He paused a moment, pursing his lips. "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to do it for free, by the Dynast. I don't have much money, but if you need any tasks done, I'm happy to do them. Whatever it takes."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#140

His attention focussed on the tarry horror, Vorodon was almost as surprised by the avalanche of hay as his straw-covered foe was. Deep, ogrish laughter boomed forth at the monster's absurd appearance! "He he ho! Tar monster want to roll in for straws? Vorodon like women tall tall, no for lump tar to him! He he!" The hill warrior punctuated each booming laugh with a swing of his deadly axe, whirling it through wild, sweeping cuts. The massive warrior had already underestimated his foe once: He would not make such a mistake again!
Rolled 1d20 : 11, total 11
Rolled 1d20 : 18, total 18

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#141

Lurching accidentally, the massive, straw-covered demodand managed to avoid the Carmine Rose's deadly arc once more, this time completely by chance, as Kyrian howled more taunts upon it. Vorodon's axe however, fueled by the lurching demodands inability to properly guage opponent and distance struck home such thunderous blows that Kadarin winced as he watched, casting his faux-magic, and even Adan's paused for a moment, arching his brows at the sight.

Ichor now flew along with tar for the first time, from the misshappen body of the raging beast. The smell in the air assaulted the nostrils of all present, reminiscent of pus and sulfur, only slightly mitigated by the smell of fresh straw.

Even Mouse hooted and hollered now, hiding far back in the stable, well behind Kadarin.

The demodand felt great pain. Its internal dialogue was now on hold. All that mattered now was returning that pain one hundred-fold upon the axe-wielding ogre...or anyone else within range.

Rolling Vorodon mega-damage, 2 hits! Rolled 4d6 : 4, 5, 1, 2, total 12. +10 for str, +4 for axe

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#142

Demodand HP tally. Had 62 left. Vorodon did 26. 36 left. Wow.

Axe "Sticking" RollsRolled 2d100 : 28, 10, total 38

Farastu's attack, it strikes at closest target. Hit rolls, claw/claw/bite on Vorodon, each one at -4 due to blindnessRolled 3d20 : 12, 12, 10, total 34

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#143

Axe no stick, but Voro gets hit with 2 claws. (21:17:47) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 2d6 and gets 6,6 (21:17:50) Murometz: +2 (21:17:54) Siren_no_Orakio: That hurts, though. MAX claw damage, Voro, sorry! 14 HP bye-bye

No sooner had Vorodon's ferocious axe-hits chopped at the Farastu, the half-ogre yanked them from the demon-muck with his great strength, but the beast leapt, possessed of indescribable fury now, its impossibly long talons ripping into the half-ogre's chest, tearing flesh and mail alike. As much as Kadarin and Adan were impressed a second ago with Vorodon's successful attacks, so now they feared for their summoned companion's life, as Vorodon staggered back temporarily, blood gushing from his chest, several ribs probably broken. The demodand was unable to complete its mandibled maw coup-de-gras however, as still blinded, Vorodon's backwards lurch led it to miss his face with its awful bite.

It was like watching demi-gods and titans of old, battle it out beneath the blazing sun. Two behemoths, with Adan the third giant present, and Kyrian, undaunted by his missed strikes, spurring Herald around yet again to make another attack. Kadarin was chanting and faux-casting , nearly frothing, as he watched the scene. Truth be told, his constant chanting seemed to help. The beast, enraged and blinded, did not like the sound of this magic it did not understand. This caused it distress, and further waylaid it in battle.

Roaring like a hundred lions, the demodand charged again, this time in Kyrian and Herald's direction.

An endless surplus of overflowing tar, demon-pus, and ichor, seeped from the monster. Soon the straw would be swallowed up. Soon, it could see again. Sooooon, their circle of heinous power will dissolve, it thought as it charged, smelling horse.

Demodand v. group, initiative http://strolen.com/guild/Themes/Winter30smfRC2/images/dice_warn.gif This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d10 : 6, total 6

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#144

Siren rolls in Chat:
Group vs Demodand, Initiative:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 1d10 and gets 1.

Yay! We go first.

Attack:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 2d20 and gets 15,10.
Damage:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 1d6 and gets 4.
(4+1+3)*1.4=11
Stick:
ChatBot: Siren_no_Orakio rolls 1d100 and gets 49.

As the demodand's claws dig into Vorodon, it is still for just long enough that the enlarged knight of Trigu stepped forth from that iron circle of magic, once more making the turning, dancing step of Kurtzschwert Drei, and the runes upon his blade screamed their rage at the demon, bits of tar, chitin, blood, and bits indescribable. Even if they lost this day, the foul beast would forever bear the scars of its visit to the lands of the Brightblade clan. Completing the turn, the giant knight lashed out once more, his blade swinging through the space he had just vacated, and the neighboring areas, though by now, too, the demodand has vacated that same spot in its mad rush towards Kyrian.

As he swing, however, his voice began to rise, a dark hymn, promising the vengeance of the lord upon the sinners before him.

My shield is Trigu, Most High,
who saves the upright in heart.

He is a righteous judge,
a God who rends the dark of soul.

He will sharpen his sword;
he will bend and string his bow.

He has prepared his deadly weapons;
he makes ready his flaming arrow.

He comes in war,
to burn away the pitch of Hell,

And he comes in vengeance,
in salvation of the lamb!

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#145

"Perish the thought. I'll take no coin from you. Tah-lee-ya--" Melitus wrote on a parchment. "Right. Well, if you like, any personal note you may wish to include can be delivered to this women. The birds will simply be sent to the Harbormaster's house itself, and for good measure, a copy to the captain of the Vermilion Wind, and from there the messages, i'm sure, will find their intended marks, either this beauty, or this massive one you describe, or both. And we'll have news of that Regatta even sooner! I expect some birds to return in two days."

"As to any tasks. Well, since you have a few days still in Thonrecht, no, I do not suppose i can think of any, hmm..."

"Would you accompany me to my meet with Thea Hellschwert? I am to call on the girl-governer this eve'. We are to have dinner. I would that you join me, another Jantirian present will help mitigate the Hellschwert's constant gloom. We can feast on her game and drink her wine. My motives for asking are quite simple. A new face, perhaps even, an additional 'emissary' from Jantir, could do the trick in aiding my diplomacies with this infuriating woman. Perhap she'll think, Jantir is about to make some move in Thonrecht's direction. Let her."

Melitus looked to Aerex to see if he understood the diplomat's reasons. "Yes, well, quite." he concluded, seeing Aerex' expression.

"Now, if you wish to write a note, here is quill and parchment. Use yon' seal when you are done", Melitus said pointing to a wax-stamp on his desk, embossed with Jantir's towers.

"I have some business elsewhere I'm afraid, but please remain, and ask the servants for anything you desire. I won't return until this evening, feel free to stake a room if you like. This place is too big for one man and his servants", he gestured around the cavernous manse.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#146

Aerex nodded in agreement to the ambassador, though reluctantly. He'd always had mixed feelings about the ever-growing empire of the Dynast, wondering if stretching the borders far out beyond the ancestral homeland of the Southfolk was economically or politically wise. Since his expulsion from the guard and development as a ranger, he also questioned the legitimacy of any governance over a people without their assent.

And yet. If he were to find his way out of this small village, out of the land of the Helleschwerts (Where have I heard that name before? he thought briefly), he would need Melitus' help. Besides, it was just a diplomatic dinner, not a hostile conquest. "Thank you for your generosity, Ambassador. I look forward to our dinner."

After Miletus left, Aerex picked up the quill and stared at the paper. It had been a long time since he'd written a personal letter, anything besides reports really. He stroked the feather in thought for a few minutes before finally penning something:

Talia,

I pray this letter finds you well. By the time you receive this, I will know who won the Regatta. I hope it was the Vermillion Wind, and that you met the Harbormaster. What news do you have?

You are probably wondering where I have been. I am not totally certain myself, I remember only that great wave that tossed me into the surf, then washing up here. I am in Thonrecht, far north of Jantir, in the a feudal land ruled by the Helleschwert family. I have been searching for passage back to the capital, but have not had any luck. By chance I met a Jantiri ambassador, Melitus, who delivers these messages. He has advocated for me by sending this message your way.

I only hope this message actually does reach you. I have no idea if you made it to the Harbormaster or are even in Jantir. I hope you are not out looking for me; there are dangerous lands between here and the Shining City. Regardless, I look forward to finally seeing you again soon. I will await here until you send a message back.

There is much more to say, but I do not know how to say it here. I will tell you all when we are reunited. Until then, I am ever,
humbly,
Aerex Matare

P.S.: Vorodon, if this comes to you, find a way to get to Thonrecht to find me. Send a message ahead so I know you are coming. Be well, my friend.

Aerex strummed his fingers against the table after he finished, reading the letter to himself, then twice again. It wasn't great, and certainly didn't get all he wanted to say, but...

He shrugged at his own question. But what? He didn't know what else to write, or at the least his words failed him. It would have to do; the sooner the letter reached Jantir, the better. He folded the letter and stamped it, addressing it:

Talia Bladedancer & Vorodon, son of Gorye
care of Jantir Harbor Master,
or Captain of the Vermillion Wind

He placed the letter on the table and leaned back in the chair. "Now what?" he muttered aloud. It would be a long wait for the letter to be even sent, let alone until a reply was returned. With a sigh he stood and stretched. Might as well make the most of it, he figured. He headed to find one of the servants and the guest quarters. Perhaps one of them had a breakfast ready...

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#147

Aerex Matare

He broke his fast on kippers and poached quail eggs, with breads, the last of the winterberry jam, and more Jantirian coffee. Spring was coming to Thonrecht, yet the cool breezes from the sea, still kept the days and nights quite cold.

He thought of visiting some shops, to acquire appropriate attire for the evening's dinner, but Melitus' servants had ushered him toward a walk-in closet filled with various fashions. Everything he could have desired to purchase was offered him instead.

Wrapping his cloak about him, Aerex ventured into the city proper, eventually, eager for a brisk walk. Thonrecht was the size of a single district in Jantir, yet majestic, and truth be told, fearsome in appearence, were Thonrecht's cliff-carved walls. Two great pillars of jagged basalt, each six hundred or more feet high, and sretching far afield, formed a natural impregnable barrier for the city. Aerex could see the great cleft of stone when he had first approached the Hellschwert harbor by ship, and now, strolling along the narrow avenues, a sense of claustraphobia could be felt, whenever he would look up at the shadow-castng moniliths, squeezing the harbor and half of the city in its stone embrace.

Melitus had told him, that he had once heard, that the Hellschwerts would immolate their own dead in something they called 'cold-fires' and smeared the ashes of their anscesters into the very walls of Thonrecht, keeping the stone impregnable and everlasting. Melitus doubted the veracity of these tales he related, claiming the Hellschwerts probably spread these rumors themselves, to foster dread in their subjects.

Aerex now found himself wandering near the peer again for a time. As he walked the dreary streets, he thought about other ‘unfortunate events’ transpiring in this ‘wretched’ place, as explained earlier to him by Melitus. For the past eight months in Thonrecht apparently, an elusive assassin, dubbed “Nightjar” by the populace, had been busy assassinating nobles for no rhyme or reason. Aerex peered around corners, his old investigative senses peaking, as he walked, imagining himself hunting down such a criminal, block by block, clue by clue.

It took some getting used to, but Aerex managed to find his way around the narrow, labyrinthine streets, and some time after mid-day, found himself watching a falconry exhibition atop one of the stony hills outside the town proper. The elevation allowed for a breath-taking visual, a sweeping panorama of sea and stone. The falcons were trained to hunt puffins. Aerex watched and reflected upon his own thoughts, as the falcons swooped and soared to knock the fast-flying, determined puffins from the sky, where nets awaited them.

He could see a few of his fellows, rangers by the looks of them, directing the falcons, for a small gathered crowd. Now, unlike in the city streets, his yearnings for nature and for some worthy cause, overtook him, he was a warden of the wilds now, he smiled to himself, and he needed some worthy cause. He needed purpose. Was his fate intertwined with that of Talia? He could not be sure.

Besides the falconers and their audience, Aerex could now spy a small group of to the side of the hillock. A tall woman, shorn bald, draped in sea-green, lacquered armor, and leaning on a long sword, noticed Aerex looking and eyed him back. Next to her, a dwarf dressed in an ochre-colored robe, clutched a n oaken staff studded with a spike-burst at one end. His yellow beard split down the middle, creating the effect of two golden horns, straddling his chin. The third figure, a man, this one also robed, but in plain white, with a single red sash across his waist, was glumly staring out to sea. He stood weaponless, his arms folded into the sleeves of his robes. A bushy beard hid his meaty face, and multiple braids of ebon hair snaked down past his shoulders. The fourth figure was an obvious warrior, currently donning a baroque suit of field-plate, complete with a wolf’s head helm. Both axe and sword leaned against a rock beside him.

The group looked particularly interesting to Aerex, as he waited for time to pass, and little else, truth be told, had caught his attention this day so far. The group seemed anxious yet resolute, as if preparing for either battle or some great hunt.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#148

Burning pain lanced into Vorodon's side as his demonic foe's claws tore through the iron strips of his ancestor's armor. Gummy, squirting secretions briefly glued the thing to the Volgottir's arm, driving him to desperately slam the iron-shod haft of his axe into the thing's face. To Vorodon's alarmed frustration, the thing's alien tissues seemingly felt no pain from the assault. Over and over, his brutal strikes lost their power, ensnared in its disgusting secretions. Would nothing stop this thing?

Stepping clear to strike again, Vordon discovered its disgusting ooze had cemented his boot to the ground! For long seconds, the half-ogre fought to free his foot from the alien sludge. He expected the creature to press its advantage, but it instead moved clear of his axe's reach, choosing to strike at one of his friends.

Frustration filled the hill warrior's voice as he saw the daemon shift clear. "Gorram ferish! Shmit for to die now!"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#149

"That's right, it's me you want, you piece of hellish excrement! From what imp's bottom did you emerge, and what did he have to devour to create something as disgusting yet useless? Ha!"

He leaped from the saddle, for the greatsword was a weapon better used on foot; truth be said, he was also too furious to wait until he could turn Herald around after his passing strikes. "You have outstayed your welcome" the knight hissed across clenched teeth as he brought his blade to bear.

I have to hit one day, right?Rolled 1d20 : 19, total 19
Damage, if I hit, Shar-Sanya willingRolled 3d6+3 : 4, 5, 5 + 3, total 17

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#150

Aerex smiled at the small band despite himself. The group reminded him of how this whole affair got started: a motley crew of makeshift militiamen after an outlaw near tiny Ganse. Like the adventurers had been, they looked like they were ready for action, awaiting some great enemy or new quest. He could see the old crew now, faces he hadn't seen in months but still remembered: Dujek, the wizard whose head hadn't been right since the bandits in the woods; Moruz, the foreign warrior decked in glass, who left as mysteriously as he'd arrived; Aethelstan, the priest who fell too soon; Vee Keykold, the Nimzian rogue. Others, too, had come and gone. Would their paths ever meet again? Logic told Aerex Matare no, but the better part of him demanded a yes.

He nearly turned away, embarassed at the prospect of engaging strangers to reminisce. But the ranger couldn't resist. He walked toward the group with a small smile. "A fine day, my friends," he greeted. "You look like you're looking for something. Perhaps I could be of some service?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#151

Just how close is Kadarin to the fallen wizard? Would like to edge close to it as the battle allows.

Kadarin spotted Vorodon's difficulty, and switched from his spurious chant into a final enlarge spell, focused on Vorodon. While it would not grant prowess, his axe may bite that much deeper...

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#152

Raging blindly, literally and figuratively, the demodand turned from Vorodon and charged Herald, smelling the steed but not seeing it, assuming the rider was still astride the fell equine.

But alas, Kyrian was now on foot, and closing in.

A sword stab from somewhere suddenly, but the demodand managed to brush it aside.

Swinging his limbs wildly, the demodand finally felt a hard impact, the sound dulled only by the ever-present tar covering its scale-and-chitin body.
Kyrian felt another jolting pain arch up his side. The beast had connected once more, smashing his mail, and shaking his insides.

Kyrian lunged back, but quickly realized the Demodand was now glued to him, like wax to parchment. Sickly gobs of black ooze clung to the knight’s left arm, his sword-hand still free. In such close range however, sulfurous breath assaulting his sensitive feline nostrils, Kyrian could not do much with the Carmine Rose. So he smashed the beast as best he could, while the beast tried smashing and biting him in turn.

A surreal bear-hug ensued, with both combatants struggling to gain the upper hand. The demodand’s strength was no match for Kyrian, but the cat-elf’s agility, as he squirmed to and fro, was no match for G’Rexlhakul.

Adan attempted another lunge, but was thwarted once more by globs of the demonic tar.

Kadarin stared nervously, ever ready with his final spells.

Vorodon advanced with axe in hand. The half-ogre now towered over all the combatants. If the demodand could see through the straw and tar and the struggling form of Kyrian, (obscuring his vision), it would certainly feel fear, at seeing this truly gigantic warrior bearing down upon it.

All rolling done in chat with PC witnesses. Long story short, Demodand hit Kyrian for 5 HP of dam. Everyone else missed. Kadarin stands his ground, after enlarging Vorodon. Vorodon attacks, then perhaps, if it is still necessary, initiative. :P Kyrian, still stuck on Demodand. Careful with your clobbering, Voro!

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#153

Aerex Matare

"Some service? Not unless you are an able and proper rogue, and know well the terrain ahead to the north, and are loyal and fearless in battle, and a demon-slayer to boot." said the bald, green-armored women plainly, no sarcasm or mirth to be had.

"I am Bex Goldenhorns", announced the blonde-bearded dwarf with the spike-burst staff of thorns. "Excuse Mallyne, she is single-minded in purpose. Quite suitable in our trade. We are the Demon-Slayers of Akod--" the dwarf paused to see if there was any recognition,"We have docked at these dreary shores only two days past, and embark upon demon-slaying to the north. Coffers upon coffers of coin from the Lady Hellschwert are funding the expedition.", he grinned broadly.

Neither the armored, wolf-helmed knight nor dread-locked, bushy-bearded, giant of a man staring out to sea, arms folded, seemed to have any interest in introduction or discussion.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#154

Aerex raised a curious eyebrow. "Demon slayers? I didn't know there were problems with demons around here, let alone enough to make a living from it." He nodded to the dwarf. "Aerex Matare, of Jantir. I'm afraid I don't fulfill all your criteria" - he gave a nod to Mallyne - "though I've seen my share of odd things in my time. Undead, bounty hunter wraiths, the like. They're no easy quarry; you have my respect if you hunt full-fledged demons."

"And you say Lady Helleschwert is funding you?" he added. "What situation is this land in if she's needing to hire folk such as yourself?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#155

"You are Jantirian? So am I", came the stern, monotonous voice of the woman. "I meant no disrespect. It is only that we recently lost our companion, the Hound's Nose, and are looking for a fifth.

"The worst kind. Ancient bloodlines siege each other's castles, and demons walk the lands. It is said some mighty evil was unleashed by one of these clans, some great entity from the past, and it is said, this malevolence brought wth it, its infernal minions." Bex paused and stroked his golden chin, "That is where we come in. We will give battle to these beasts of the netherworld, all that we encounter, and attempt to banish the source back to whichever hell it came from. We take no sides in the spat between clans. We work for the Lady Hellschwert. The rampaging demons are murdering and corrupting members of both clans. So no politics necessary for us to decipher. And that is the way we like it. Just kill the demons and their ilk. That is all." Bex finally stopped talking.

"And what of you? What brings you to frozen Thonrecht?" Mallyne now offered.

'You've slain wraiths? Ho! No easy task that" this tinny nod of respect came from the steel wolf-helmed warrior.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#156

Aerex nodded. "I'm sorry to hear the loss of your companion," he said sincerely. "But glad to see such noble work done."

"I am in Thonrect entirely by chance," he began, "or fate if you prefer. I too had a band not unlike yours, allies in arms and cause. I certainly couldn't have killed any wraiths on my own, but with many friends we were able to do incredible things, things I wouldn't have ever imagined, to be sure. Arrested a band of brigands, freed a monastery from an evil wizard, brought a corrupt lawman to justice, defeated Verbeeg thugs..." The list trailed and a thin smile came to Aerex's face. "We were quite a team.

"The last I've seen any of them, though, was about two months ago. We were racing a ship in the Regatta when I fell overboard and was lost in a storm. Next I know, I find myself here in Thonrecht. I'm trying to find a way back to Jantir to search for my friends. In fact, after speaking to the Jantiri ambassador here, I am dining with the Lady Helleschwert tonight, and hoping to get some sway to charter a ship to the south. But I don't want to get ahead of myself. I would offer to join your crew, but I must wait to hear from my own first."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#157

"A mighty storm rages" came the suddenly booming voice of the bearded, dread-locked giant. Not a true giant, but an imposing man nonetheless, well over six feet, his many braids, flailing in the wind, like ashen snakes, his blue eyes hidden beneath black brows.

"No ship will come" the baritone continued. He gazed not at Aerex but ever toward the sea. "Mighty Taloc churns his waves, and spins the winds. Have you not noticed, no ship has docked since we arrived two days ago. A fierce tempest blows out there" he concluded and went back to brooding.

"As you will, Aerex Matare of Jantir. But know, that if it is the Lady Hellschwert you dine with this eve, then we dine together", Bex smiled, revealing teeth capped in gold. "And don't mind Zdronvus here either", he added, gesturing toward the grim one. "He worships the storm-lord. He sees things..."

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#158

Die rolls cast in chat earlier…

Yanking himself clear of the entangling sludge, Vorodon felt strange power wash through him, godlike might sweeping though his veins. All around him seemed to grow tiny and feeble as Kadarin’s dweomer gave the half-ogre the stature of a giant. His voice grew even deeper as he lurched toward his disgusting foe, Vorodon's hill-dialect taking on the booming volume of a titan. “Daemng-theng! Now Vorodon and Trigu-friend make finish! Too wait late-ing for to be runnoff!”

The feline warrior Kyrian was sorely beset, ensnared within the Tarterus spawn’s sticky tar. With skill honed through the millennia of its vile existence, the daemon nimbly used its foe’s ensnared form to shield itself from the giant warriors surrounding it. Blow after blow turned aside or checked at the last instant as the gummy horror twisted and dodged.

With every missed opportunity, Vorodon’s mighty swings grew more reckless and enraged. Adan could see the half-ogre losing control, forgetting much of his skill in his passion to destroy the demodand. If this continued, Vorodon’s wild blows might mistakenly strike one of his allies!

And yet, some desperate cunning still remained to the half-breed warrior: With a sudden lunge, Vorodon planted his axe haft across Kyrian and the tarry horror, the unexpected move slamming the embattled pair into the mossy oak of a cracked water trough. The tar-covered fiend struggled to disentangle itself from the battered trough, unable to win free as Vorodon’s inhuman strength yanked his axe from its vile embrace. Raising the massive weapon high above his head, the half-ogre paused, his full might centered on cleaving the daemon once and for all.

For one brief moment, time itself seemed to stop, all falling silent save for the strange reverberating sound of the iron axe blade and the fading echo of Adan’s holy song.

The axe drove down, and the daemon was no more.

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#159

"And mighty Vorodon rises to the challenge once more!" Kyrian pikced himself up and bowed. "My accolades to you, valliant Volgottoi; the fiend was becoming overly enthusiastic in his violently amorous ways. While we would master him none-the-less, it is reassuring to know that should we fail, there is another well-versed in demon-smiting."

With a stern look, he scried their surroundings. "Was this the last fiend? Splendid. Is aybody wouded?"

Re: Whom the gods would destroy...

#160

As Vorodon's axe cleft demon flesh in to small chunks, the once-paladin fell back, his shield still raised, in order to survey the skies. It was as the sun broke from beyond a bank of clouds that his lips curled into a small smile at long last, and as the sword in his hand became a dagger once more, he slid it into the sheath at his hip, pulling the thin layer of steel from his head.

"My Lord Trigu, what honor and glory you have permitted me to earn this day is yours, and yours alone, and blessed are you above all others. I plead of you now, to guide my hand, and aid me in aiding those the children of L'hruk have injured."

Turning now, he laid a hand on Vorodon's shoulder, before he himself began to shrink, as he said rather simply, "And thank you, both of you. It is a great thing, to destroy such a beast."

As the magic left him, he began to shrink once more, his frame returning to its natural size. "I would tend to the injured inside. Bring water from the well, but show it the sun's light before you bring it in."

Time to get to the hard work. Returning to the central hall and it's statues and rubble, Adan slipped his gauntlets and shield from his hands as well, setting them down before lifting Erund from the crumpled heap in which he lay, and stretching him out beneath the gaze of the central statue. So much demon-tar, so much blood. Did the boy even live? Yes. The faint flutter of a pulse beneath his fingers, the slightest rise and fall of the chest, and Adan sighed in relief. The injuries were not yet fatal, but there was still a race against time. Both hands he placed upon the boy's head, cradling it from the floor, and he began to pray, the vision of his father foremost in his mind. The power was slow to come, the trickle of life agonizing as it burned a new pathway from the heavens, through his soul and into his body, and lastly his hands. But come it did, and it tasted like the break of dawn to Adan as the injuries of the young boy began to restore themselves, healed by the power of Trigu.

They said the night was blackest, just before dawn. It was with the exhaustion of the fight, of the magic, crawling over his body that he gathered up his healing kit. The others would require tending, especially, he suspected, the Volgottoi.