Turn 21: From Within
[6][6][6][4][3][6]
The first drops of rain touchdown on fertile land, the first sweeps of wind strike against the artificial constructs of homes and settlements.
And they gather strength by each passing second.
The Storm has made landfall.
Caelondian Lower SectorAdil commands the skeletal fiends to direct their attention away from the necromancers and towards the guards. His other minions help him get away from the fiends and the door.
If the Fiends did NOT obey, he would immediately bring up a dark energy wall between Him and his allies (Ast, Adil and Adil's servitors) and the Fiends, blocking any backlash attempt or attack, making the Fiends more likely to go for the easy targets, the guards. If Adil IS successful, the energy will go towards enhancing both Ast and Leon himself so that they can retreat better.
Basically, Defend the party if we're attacked, else run away with party. Because yes, we're a party now. :3
The Dwarf was the first to act, pushing himself up with the aid of the wooden door behind him. He surveyed the scene with a dazed look, then returned his gaze to the Fiends, his expression changing to one in utter joy. They were beautiful, structures of pure destruction as their figures could show. A voice in his head told him to snap back to his senses after noticing the complexity of the situation.
Adil felt his powers returning, his vigor returning, or at least a vague semblance of any power inside him. He glared at the spectral abominations he called to this world, knowing the implications of such. His eyes burned with dark fire as he poured power into his words.
"I am your master, and you. will. OBEY!" he commanded, putting high stress on the last three words. He raised his arms in their direction and focused his mind on the beings, willing them to seek...lesser prey.
His presence then feels the consciousness of the Fiends as it flowed forth from him; he could feel hunger and malice as they surveyed their new vicinity, somewhat disappointed in the essence of their area. He could pick out shrouded thoughts focusing on this world, thoughts of anger, hatred, hunger and curiosity, perhaps. Adil then focuses on his plan, unsure as to it's effect as he retracts his consciousness, but gladdened that the fiends did not react; for they either did not notice him, or did not care about their privacy. He then
calls both of his companions who were fortunate enough to be within ten strides of the door. He could sense babbling and giggling coming from the Mass in an indescernible language as it lurched towards him.
Leon blinked once, twice, then thrice. He didn't believe his eyes until he was sure they were squeaky clean. "Fun." he surmised, slowly edging towards Adil as the dwarf uttered his phrase, calling the fiends to obey. With Ast in tow, he followed Adil with dark energy surging around his hands. The Fiends moved forward from the Rift, leaving it's vicinity and breaking their ties to it, destroying every single good and cached supply in their way due to their enourmous size, giving the merchant-mercenary enough time to unleash his plan. He levelled his pike in their general direction, keeping his gaze locked on them, and uttered under his breath,
"Ast, get out. Adil, you too!", promptly unleashing his spell afterwards. Other than the intended effect, he felt a familiar jolt of energy course through his arms and out from his pike, branching out to the
rest and pushing all of them into the street by pure force. The energy danced around the party before retreating inside, as if sucked in by another force
and continued dancing around in it's wake, interrupting Adil's ward. This did affect the guards, though, and kept them in place.
It was well at least, to say that the Fiends did not attack the 'party' directly - preferring others in their stead; for even if they were of such morality, they knew who had summoned them here, and despite their lust to slake their need, there were other choices than those magus. But what was a welcoming party without a show of appreciation, beginning with the two struggling guardsmen in front of them who were now
standing with welcoming blades? They were smaller and much less sharp than their own, their holders filled with fear, what more could you ask? The two could even feel a static field enclosing around them, passing through like a wave on the shore, they were even edging back to give room!
"Evans, if we make it through this. Deliver the message to the magister." Stoic said, his mouth barely moving as he stepped back, drawing a hand beneath his chainmail.
"We'll die. And wake in their land. Friend, I'm sorry for my stupid act. We should've returned instead of getting a drink."
"I forgive you." The guard brought out his dagger, knowing his fate. The party could hear the
sound of a shield getting beaten by iron. "COME GET YOUR PREY, BEINGS OF TWILIGHT! YOU SHALL NOT FEAST EASY WHILE I STAND!" It was to be Stoic's last words.
The Fiends cackle in glee, forgetting that even with their own supernatural power, they were playing on mortal rules, subject to the physical laws of the realm. As the party recovers from the spell, they hear the Fiends in their movements, destroying everything in their wake. They could hear an apology come from Evans' light voice. They could hear the sound of a warcry and of wood, stone and steel breaking, followed by the sounds of ripping and of a body being flung against a wall, then the splintering of wood and planks. Then, of chains being struck and of a high-pitched sizzle. From their viewpoint, they could see another figure in armor stumble and slip on the spilled brandy, nearly getting hit by a salvo of sharp bone-like darts and the same strange liquid found on the Fiends, hitting where Evans would have been if not for the accident. They see his foot catch the door edge as he scrambles out, falling once more and shutting it. His hands were splayed out on the road, with his right holding the parchment that was in Delon's inventory while the other holding his sword. They could hear him breathing frantically, also with a broken nose. The Fiends could not be heard from within.
The sound of metal boots stop from the end of the street.
A voice calls forth in a rough tone, as from one used to command,
"Who goes there? Have you sight of the cause of all this?". The group turns to face him, seeing
eight men dressed in the same livery as the first group, however, well armed and by the looks of it, disciplined. They were led by a man with a winged helmet, apparently the speaker, who begun to draw his greatsword as if prepared for battle, gesturing towards the party. The soldiers follow, approaching in two ranks.
Evans tries to reply, but his words are drowned out by his own fear. Around the five, and other than the numerous lantern posts, torches lining the road and the entry gate at the other far end, they could see a sewer grate adjacent to the door large enough for three adult humans to pass through, barred by rusty iron which camouflaged it. There were no alleyways to speak of other than the canals that lined the road. The two story buildings nearby did not show much evidence of people living in them as no candles were lit, or alarms sounded despite the blaring cry of the Fiends.
Delon
Health: 0/25
0/10 (
Was seen to be Dead)
Inventory:
?
'Stoic'
Health: ?/35
0/10 (
Fear |
Most probably Dead)
Inventory:
?
Evans
Health: 20/25
0/10 (
Fear)
Inventory:
Bronze broadsword |
Copper Mail | Grey Cloth tunic | Rimmed Helmet | Crumpled Parchment
Four Pikemen (
Disciplined)
Health: 180/180
100/100 (
Stalwart)
Inventory:
Steel Pike |
Tempered Steel Plate | Grey Tunic | Rimmed Helmet
Three Longbowmen (
Disciplined)
Health: 120/120
75/75Inventory:
Oaken Longbow |
Light Steel Chainmail | Rimmed Helmet | Grey Tunic | Iron Dagger
Guard Sergeant (
Disciplined)
Health: 65/65
25/25 (
Rally Cry)
Inventory:
Bronze Greatsword |
Gilded Steel Plating | Grey Tunic | Winged Helmet
Health: ?/? ?/? ?/? (?)
Inventory: ?
Take aim while advancing!
Advance with pikes lowered!
Search for the source of the sound! If non-human, attack! If human, parley and check if hostile! Draw sword for intimidation!
~~
Enidri ignores the guardswoman stronger-than-thou act and all of her talking altogether (since she was the last into the fray and started to talk like she did most of the work; dirty coward), asks for Fornax to heal the guardsman and heads off into the town seeking the source of the disturbance without returning as much as a word to the woman.
Follow the rest, ignore utter crap the mercenary gave me.
Proceed out of this blasted place. I'm too old for this! (No disrespect to the Guard.)
Agree. Restore. Fly around in a fun way.
Enidri nodded at Wilhelm's behest, staring at the guardswoman through his peripheral vision. She really remembered him of a person he knew and muchly disliked. His eyes traced along her figure and he noticed she was quite frail to be stuck inside an armor and fighting Spectres which could tear her to pieces in their first round of attack. But still, she talked to him in a condescending manner! He kept his face turned as she talked and decided to simply ignore what she was saying, passively.
"Fornax, please help this man a little more and then follow me. I am heading to town to check on that."He kept solemnly ignoring the guardswoman, brushing by her in his stride back to the gate. The two followed close behind, and the young smith could've sworn he heard a snort coming from her.
'That impudent guard...'Wilhelm spoke up as he rubbed his wrist with his other hand, the markings of the tendril still showing. "Grah! I'm too old for this..staying for battle. Not the Guard! Why can't I be an archer like the rest?!"
"Archery takes years to hone to be useful and hit a target at range." Fornax replied,
encircling the man's wrist as he moved along.
"You fought well."He turned to Enidri, "Damned be I, sir. You're lucky you have a benevolent spirit wid'ya! Things are rare these days! Where'd you get it?"
"I-""
Ferric!" Syra exclaimed from behind. Enidri did not turn to look at her, but squinted his eyes at what may be another metal for smithing in the distance. Confusion came across him, that she would call it by that name, or at least give any attention to this common metal that was everywhere on him.
It was actually better when his eyes adjusted to the light mist and focused upon the cemetary gate, it was a man.
The one called Ferric was leaning against the Cemetary gatepost, his gloved hand clutching his lower abdomen which was wrapped by an improvised piece of clothing, his other hand grasping the wall while holding an iron dagger. His tunic was stained by an orange-red liquid, due to the light coming from the lantern post adjacent to the gate. As the party approached, they could see him grimacing in pain, but also in an optimistic manner. "Hah, didn't think I'd see you again, Syra. And you, Wilhelm." he nodded, before looking at Enidri with a smirk. "Caught the errant fool who caused all this rubbish?" His voice was of average tone, a bit rough at the edges but it was welcoming, to say the least.
"
Errant? Maybe, but he was not the cause of all this."
"Whatever it was, it is now gone. I cannot spot the Spectre's source.""A Spectre! By the Goddess! Eh, how did you defeat it?! There are only three of you!"
Wilhelm moved over and helped the man up, grabbing his weapon arm and putting it around his neck, forcing him to lean on his fellow brother. "Teamwork. And make that Four, this little Wisp here saved me a few kicks up the rudder," He gestured to Enidri. "Thought of this one as a lowdown, graverobbing merc at first, or maybe one of Ast's judging by his suit. Proved us wrong, had the heart of a lion e' did. Charged at the demon like there was no tomorrow and fought like one driven by passion and courage. Even defended me from death as I...failed in my duty."
"Failed? Ahah! Now I know that's my Wilhelm. You're with me right now! The only failure
is death, and that isn't even a failure until we lose our Scryers!"
Syra was silent for a while, walking to the middle of the street while eyeing the moon. "
A victory indeed. We did not find the perpetrator, however we may find more from the source of that other sound." She turned back to face the group, holding the crystal that hung by her neck with her thumb and index finger. "
Necromancers can easily be traced by their life lines, and their linking bonds. Thank the Goddess we have these. What has come of you, Ferric? The sound?"
"Aye, heard it too." Ferric said. "While you three were gone, I hefted that bloody corpse off me, and got out my... blade, ready to follow. Apologies by the way, for forgetting our weapons, ma'am. The Magister's orders wer-" Syra cut him off with a nod, asking him to continue. "Alright, apologies again. Like I said, I approached the gate and looked back to check on the body, and the thing was standing up! I would've checked if I was dreaming, but it attacked me! Thing fought like it was possessed! Cloved through me' own armor with it's
hands! Had to end it my...own way. Bloody thing disappeared before I could see it's face as I plunged my dagger through! Covered in darkness, mind you. All I have is this tattered cloak now." He tapped the cloth wrapped around his torso, heavily colored in black and red now.
"We're glad to see you're still alive. That was a Shade by the way."Ferric took a step back, now shocked at the other voice. "What th- Wilhelm! You got a talking firefly around your head! Your conscience?"
Fornax flared up for a second before returning to it's original blue.
"Wisp, Sir. Wisp."The guardsman replied with a wheezy chuckle, sheathing his weapon. "Heh, just pulling your leg there. On that note, let's leg it back to the barracks. I've heard of other squads combing about the lower sectors coming from a runner, the one who helped me back up and ran away in a hurry; marketplace yields no result. Gate districts has no sight of any attacks or skirmishers, all we haven't checked were the 'stockades' - those warehouses that held our trade goods."
"Stockades? Aren't those...for other things?""Eh? Blame our Baron. Bloody noble busy making up 'good' names for our noble city. Wonder why nobody has elected a new one to replace him, I'd rather believe the rumors that he is a Dwarf. Fancied by iron toy boxes, demands a pair each day and does nothing with 'em but stows them away
in the treasury. Waste of metal I tell you! Boxes even look real enough like treasure chests!"
"
The Stockades? That's the general direction of the sound. We're in much trouble if any enemy gets there. New orders, men, we are heading there without delay."
"Don't worry, ma'am. We have the 'Pointy Sticks' on patrol there. Sir Terin won't let anyone out without due trial, 'By my great blade' he says it. Don't know if thats code for-..." He paused for a while, narrowing his eyes before glancing at Enidri with a grin. "I've almost forgotten about you! Coming along, mate?" he said weakly. "Need a brave and well-armed soldier like you. We're lacking many of them now, with the stuff going on in Gin and the recent turnover of hands there. Erm, unless you're one of Ast's folk. Mercenary type and all." He said, lowering his head and taking a deep breath before looking back up with a somewhat peaceful expression. Enidri could see the man biting the inside of his lower lip.
"
I cannot issue orders to a man like you, but you are free to tag along once we get there. You're quite lucky to not have met the others. Incarceration on the spot for lurking in the cemetaries after midnight without due papers."
As the smith looks over the three, Wilhelm gives him a reassuring nod.
He can tell that it goes along the lines of: 'I would like to see anyone try that.' or 'We'd really love your help even if we have her with us.'
Health: 25/25
10/10Inventory:
Silver Crystal,
Consecrated Steel Broadsword,
Steel Heater shield | Grey Cloth Tunic | Medium Helmet
Health: 35/50 (
Stalwart)
Inventory:
Wooden Training Dagger |
Steel Kite shield | Grey Cloth Tunic | Rimmed Helmet
Health: 3/30
0/10 (
Grazed | ?)
Inventory:
Iron Dagger |
Copper Chainmail | Grey Cloth Tunic | Rimmed Helmet | Bloody Black Cloak
((Four turns of battle, with both sides attacking and counter-attacking. From the first (body meets Ferric and pushes him out of the Spectre fight with only four combatants left) until current turn. I was utterly surprised by how
close it really was! Also, first OOC post within a turn! :3))
First - Guardsman | Second - Shade
5+1vs5 | 4+1vs5 || 5+1vs3 | 3+1vs6 || 6+1vs5 | 2+1vs5 || 2+1vs6 | 4+1vs3
Roll for Weapon: 3, Armor: 2, Health: 2
Firstly, cheer that I defeated that frick'in shade. Secondly, bemoan my fate, but keep happy. Thirdly, search for my allies before this stupid wound bleeds me out! I'm going to gut the poor rat who caused all this!
((He got a 3, and suffered the Graze damage before you found him. Yes, the thief/graverobber -turned-shade had a special to [INFLICT WOUND] with a needed 3 being the minimum. This was the planned encounter for
that 1 earlier, but you got lucky.))
The Sea of TearsOrder the Horde of Fish to break up the waves that are taller than two men's heights.
When the Diviner gives the word, summon(by which I mean summon - mentally call for it, challenge it to come and overpower all other winds) a strong wind from the east.
Other mages act as planned.
The moment the Diviner has contacted her mind, Ima mentally went over her plan once again to make sure she and Diviner have been in full agreement on people's roles: Three of the mages would create a wall of rapidly raising air on the eastern side of the fleet, set not to stop the winds entirely but to redirect them into the currents above. Ima's fish (for she'd bet he already knew about them) would disarm the particularly threatening waves by forming a shoal and breaking these waves apart. Two more mages and Ima would be responsible for summoning a strong draft from the east that would annull all other winds in its presence, leaving only itself to worry about then once the wind was summoned, these two mages would join their resources with the other three sustaining the wind-wall, and Ima's role would be to keep the wind blowing.
Without strong winds on the boats' height, there wouldn't be anything to interrupt the oarsmen and create waves; with the few remaining waves being broken before they reach the fleet, there will be reduced chance of casualties; and by advocating indirect ways of shielding the fleet from the wind, Ima's plan would ensure the mages didn't exhaust themselves fighting the elements.
"Ima Erifithili, ready to begin."With that, her message was mentally sent to it's destined receiver, inciting a stern nod from him. The Elf could feel intrigue coming from the elder, along with what seemed like admiration on his part, but maybe that was just the salt water getting splashed on her face as the waves grew in height.
"Your plan is sound. Take vocal command, I'll amplify it so everyone can hear. I will be handling the more...subtle parts."The rowboat lurched forward, with the only woman standing aboard feeling a shift in direction. As she looked around her, she could see all eleven boats forming into a delta formation. She could feel the other five mages keeping in position, holding the flanks in agreement to the plan. She could feel Montago's hand tap her on the shoulder.
"Whatever you deem fit, may the Sealord watch over us all."
Ima, along with the Diviner, formed the centerpiece of the formation. He raised his staff as she took her stance, taught to her by the pirating crew earlier. Somehow, she wondered if they knew magic like the ones next to her.
"Let us begin."With that, the revolutionary fleet entered the Storm.
* * *
I was scared. Yes, a trained slave used to seeing bloodshed in the pits, and hardened by the rigors of tyranny and pain, scared. I grasped the ledge of the boat as I felt the temperature drop to a freezing low. It was good that we brought cloth padding beneath this armor, for even through this, the cold cut through my bones.
I looked up from my position, the Diviner and that Elf were busy working in tandem it seemed; all around me, the men and women could feel the energies of the magi envelop our boats and crewmen. I gripped my trident and steeped my fingers along the ridged handle, as I was wont to do when nervous, until I felt the winds crash into our left flank, almost blowing away the mage that stood guard. I then felt a warm gust of air flow past me, encircling our group once before passing to the rest. It seemed that they were planning to abate the winds that dared our ruin. My heart was gladdened as I felt the winds calm to a lesser degree - still harsh, but bearable by our oarsmen. It was strange to think that we could even pull through with this, if not for the Diviner's words and our find.
And then the waves rose, the glassy sea turning into a torrent of anger. Nat was not here to protect us, and I doubted the ability of the mages to focus on two different elements at the time, but somehow they proved me wrong yet again. I was about to cheer Isen onward, being one of the three Aetherial mages, other than the Diviner of course, until I peered beneath the waves, under an adjacent ship.
The waters, they were blacker than the darkness. Darker than the night that had enveloped our people. I could see faint flickers of light coming from down below after every flash of lightning, as if the very hand of the Sealord was guiding us in our righteous cause. I could feel the slight bumps along the hull of our boat, our rowboats were made as the longships of yore with sail and mast sacrificed for speed and stealth to note. I squinted to see what exactly was supporting them and was nearly pushed off the boat thanks to my own curiosity as the boat lurched forward unexpectedly. It had seemed that the Sealord did not want prying eyes, and I was not one to go against his wishes.
Then another danger came by, one that the mages couldn't even prevent. The Elf; for her name was Ima, lifted her arms and bellowed to us all, telling us to hold firm in our cause as we neared Gin. I could see the faint light of the tower in the distance, it's form now shrouded by whatever was going on inside it. The Elf drew her Cutlass and directed it to our right, her hair billowing in the breeze. I could see faint traces of energy wreathing around it, before jumping off and connecting with the staves of the two in that direction. I felt a sudden squall blast past me, then recede into nothingness. Glancing to my left, and to my right affirmed my cause. This was actually working with the new mage.
But what was I to do, a lowly slave in the midst of all this chaos? Who was I, but a netcaster of the Slaver Lord Montago Alerio, to act at a time such as this? As I looked upon his face, all I could see was his mysterious smile hidden by his wide-brimmed hat. And I felt ashamed. I shouldn't have doubted the powers of the people around me.
And I cried.
I cried out the hymn of the Sea, the tune coming to me in this calm in the storm. I belted out the words as if this was my last day on this realm, and the rest followed. Montago was the first to join in, standing up and brandishing his flintlock pistol as he looked to the sky. Rano and Kane both added in their own rough tones as they rowed along. The other groups soon succeeded where we lost track, using whatever was with them to aid in the song. It incited a strange look from the Elf, but we didn't mind. She was doing much more than we expected.
As if in response, the Diviner raised his staff, the nether cap gilding shining in the moonlight, and issued a command in a tongue that I've never heard to the Storm at large, further easing our travel. It was like being in the Eye of the storm; the rain was pouring down relentlessly, but I felt no water touch my brow, nor see armor get wet, yet the waves around us proved that there was rain, and that there was a storm. Our boats were now safe from flooding as we pulled and set the canvass. I scolded myself for not thinking about it earlier, but at least I had companions. If anything had happened, then we would have failed at the start.
I felt a familiar leathery brush against my shoulder. It was that bat that the Elf owned. I rested it and looked onwards, we were protected, but I had a feeling this would change all too soon. We were still leagues away, or so I thought, and the weather was not going to be controlled for long. Our only propulsion being that of our arms, and that of their minds.
There was still the promise of lightning, and the wardings of the Lower Docks. The watchmen would have to be appeased somehow, but we would burn that bridge when we arrived, for we were still in the outer arm of the Storm.* * *
"Ima, exceptional work. But we aren't done yet. Two more stages at least, this outflux of magic could attract lightning. Coordinate with the rest, for we are nearly finished with this part.
My guesses were right. This Storm is of magical means. Coordinate with the rest, I will...carry my own load."
Blackmarsh' Mid-Eastern SectorKeep them from reaching Pallas, and the woman at all costs
Erect a barrier around myself that protects against attacks, or preferably the attacks of the undead specifically.
Zakroff scowled and turned to Pallas, sensing the desparity of the situation.
"Pallas take the woman and run, if I do not make it out of this within the hour, and you still remain in this world, act as that woman's guardian until she perishes or frees you of your duty." he said before turning back with his blades in hand, and faced the Shades perched around him. The blades licked at his palms, but he felt no pain from the Shadow Fires.
"Come at me, demons."The Knight offered no visible reply, other than drawing it's blade and tilting it to the Shade who spoke, edging towards the mage. Shalla looked at the dagger-wielder, with an expression of one taken aback. She certainly
liked the thought of a free servant for no reason, but it seemed a bit on the excessive side.
Then again, those were a lot of shades.
She
tapped her staff as she regarded the shade with that mouthhole. "So, what do you intend to do, then?" she called out to them. "Feast on the town, I suppose? A bit short-sighted and cliche, isn't it?" she ended with a wry smile.
Before the shade could respond, Shalla turned the staff crystal-downwards and sent it smashing into the cobblestone road. Everyone in the current vicinity turned to gaze upon it, as the crystal (which was then a bright blue) turned into a fiery azure-white. Thick streaks of energy ran from the shaft where Shalla held it, flowing into the ground and spreading forth like like a shockwave across the street and through the current buildings.
"The Staff- No! Y-"But whatever it was meant to say was cut off as the branching field enveloped every single Shade, passing Pallas and Zakroff, wrapping around the former and illuminating the scene, changing the darkness of night into the bright blue of day and activating every single hidden warding glyph in their vicinity. The energy wreathed around the spirits, entering and exiting from their bodies like a needle. Their shrieks echoed against the stone buildings, quickly ending them in blasts of scintillating light.
After shielding their eyes, the three gaze at the outcome. Nothing remained of the seven shades other than
a small crystal, along with assorted weaponry lying amongst the ashes of the cloaks. There was also a gilded clip that resembled the insignia of the Black Magic Guild alongside the rest in the pile.
As Zakroff twirled his blades in his hands, gladdened by the outcome, he sees that
his wounds, along with Pallas' are mostly mended and healed. Before he could question the mage as to how everything happened, his savior suddenly collapses on the ground, unconscious.
Soon, they hear footsteps coming from past the corner,
two people garbed in heavy cloaks. One of them resembling an old man: an aged face with white hair and the other in armor, a guard perhaps?
The elder approaches, drawing out a long whitewood staff from behind him and levels it towards the Rogue.
"What have you done here, thief? What did you do to our neophyte and how did you activate our guardian wards?"Health: All Banished from the face of Blackmarsh.
~~
Channel dark magic into the brushers pike and stab the human i raised.
Defend!
Cog: Continue casting spell.
Skeleton: Defend me!
Tyver sneered at his creation, partly oblivious to what was happening in front of him. "Since you will not listen to me, then you shall have to be destroyed!" he shouted. He rushed forward and willed power into his pike, planning to run the man through.
In range of both the Spectre and man, his thrust goes wide and smashes another tombstone, breaking it and causing a cloud of ancient dust to rise, nauseating him.
Cog regains his countenance from his hiding place, ignoring the swearing coming from the other person
and gestures once more as his skeleton bars the way from any impending tendrils.
Two of such come into view as Cog finishes his spell. The warrior raises his sword and deftly evades the first, slashing it in the side but is too slow to avoid the second as it impacts the skeleton in the arm, shunting off the hauberk.
Tyver could hear his allied dog retreat past him, followed by the completing set of two other tendrils!
Stepping in front of his canine friend, he
parries the incoming projectiles off, receiving only glancing wounds from saving Fluffy.
A volley of bones and calcium dust rises from beneath the Spectre as it's tendrils retract, quickly enveloping the being and causing it to stiffen in place with the volley perforating it's vestments and going through it's body.
The human rises from his position and returns to Tyver's side, suitably impressed by his actions despite the rogue's original purpose of trying to destroy
him.
Both necromancer and rogue can feel a faint presence feeling around their vicinity. It doesn't seem as if trying to harm them.
Health: 50/60
Inventory: Aged Vestments (+1 to defense and dodge modifier), Obsidian Visage (Negates all fear or recognition rolls. Is a Mask.)
Health: 15/25 ; 10/25
Inventory: Naked.
Health: Stunned.
Inventory: Archaic Vestments (?)
Author
Topic: Kings of Death - A Necromancy RTD: Turn 24: Blood and Honor (Read 39087 times)