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[Chink]

A tier 6 shot into the very middle of the bandits.

[Gamerlord]

You idiot. That'll hit all of us!

[Chink]

I doubt it will hit one of us. There are only so many targets it could hit, and most of those targets are bandits, not any of us.

[Ross Vernal]

Zoah would make a brief prayer to his God, and feel a sense of sudden weight around his body. This would have the additional effect of snapping the arrow's tip off and leaving barely enough of the fletching showing to allow him to pull it out later. Not that any of that mattered - he was dropping out of the sky like an anvil, his spear braced and ready to make an Archer Kebab. The archer would frantically reload and fire a snap shot instead of running (Divine Protection absorbs 5 HP damage); this would prove to be the last mistake he made as the angelborn's spear met the top of his head, tearing through the leather helmet as though it weren't even there. The point would emerge from his lower back (24 HP damage; instakill) before Zoah's heavy form crashed into him, killing the archer instantly and soaking the sand with blood.

In a sense, Zoah was lucky; he managed to avoid the worst of the sudden fireball explosion in the middle of the crowd that his party member had unleashed. (Divine Protection absorbs 2 HP damage). The sudden burst of flames in the middle would hit fifteen of the remaining twenty-four bandits: six of these were archers (2,6,8,9,3,5 HP) two mages (10,3 HP), and the rest being swordsmen (6,7,4,2,9,2,7,8 HP). (16/29 hit; total damage 91/100 HP)

Morgred would take this opportunity to unleash six crackling arrows of death, aimed to hit the weakest of the swordsmen to cause the most damage. The black bolts would fly forth from his dessicated fingertips, ghostly whispers and smoke leaving an afterimage for several moments after its spells. Upon contact, its victims would let out a choking gasp, stunned momentarily by their life-force being stripped away. Two of them would slump to the ground, rendered lifeless; another two would show signs of serious damage.

After having unleashed his fireblast, Neun would run screaming into battle, hacking away with his axe at the closest swordsman. Even with the armor absorbing some of the damage, the hapless swordsman would drop his sword, critically wounded by the axe now firmly embedded in his lower torso. (Brigandine absorbs 3 HP damage; 5 HP damage) Seeing a chance to follow up the series of brutal attacks on the party, Tarana would take this opportunity to slide the point of her rapier into the AXE'd swordsman's eye, then deliver a snap kick to the upper body to give her the momentum needed to spin away as the dwarf wrenched his bloody axe free.

(Round 3)

The bandits were starting to get the impression that they were looting the wrong party. Five had been killed in moments, with an additional six having taken serious damage. The unarmed horse thieves would have a moment to look at each other, have an unspoken agreement, and started to RUN AWAY, not feeling that today was a good day to die. The six bandits who had taken severe damage would refrain from combat, groaning in pain from the unexpected mass attack that had been dealt to them.

Out of the remaining archers, several would charge in to attack Zoah, frantically stabbing away at him with his knives before the angelborn could spear them. Having returned to his feet, Zoah would rely on feints and his armor to protect him from the knives, briefly wondering if the smell of cooked hair was his. Due to the combination of his years of combat, and the fact that their weak knives would only damage the weak points from the stabs, he would remain unaffected by the attacks. (Divine Protection absorbs all incoming damage.)

The five lightly wounded or unharmed swordsmen would divide the dwarf and necropriest among them, hacking and slashing away at the two. Unfortunately for them, Myrln had thrown about his glamour, bending the images of the two, flashing lights in their eyes, and administering the occasional hotfoot, further impairing their combat prowess. The two who set out to deal with Neun, thanks to Myrln's illusions, would misjudge the height and width of the dwarf entirely, swinging at air and hitting nothing. Out of the three who moved to target Morgred, only one would manage to land a blow, as the agile undead would neatly dodge their wild, frantic strikes. (Leather Armor absorbs 4 HP; 3 HP damage.)

One of the Mages would move to stabilize her fellow mage, whose flesh resembled overcooked bacon. The three remaining would successfully fight off Myrln's illusions and start to rally the remaining bandits, purging the demoralize effects from the five active swordsmen and several of the Archers.

[Your move.

(14/15 Archers: Dead, 3, 4, 6, 8, 10, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 18, 19, 20.
7/10 Swordsmen: Dead, Dead, Dead, 2, 5, 10, 10, 13, 14, 19
5/5 Mages: 2, 9, 12, 15, 19
1/1 Leader: Dead
5/5 Horse Thieves: Fleeing 1/2)

Zoah: 16/23
Myrln: 8/10
Tarana: 21/21
Morgrod: 8/11
Neun: 21/22 ]

[Gamerlord]

You do know it is wrong to deprive Mingan of his dinner, yes?

Use necromancy to weaken the horse thieves so they cannot flee and begin to remove their souls.

[Chink]

"Ahahahahahahaha! Feel the burn!"

Throw bolts(Tier 3) at the swordsmen attacking me, and decapitate them while they are stunned by the bolts.

[Xantalos]

Myrln makes a small 'tut-tut' sound.
Now, now, mages, that's not a good thing to do. I'm afraid I'll have to stop that.

Myrln uses his [Elemental Mage 2] to cause the ground under the feet of the mages to become like quicksand, but unnaturally thin; about the consistency of water.
((I'd suspect this would count as a Tier 6 action ... sort of. I'm basically turning the ground under them into quicksand so thin that they have almost no chance of getting out of it.))

[Xero]

Zoah did not go about ranting and raving during a battle, his mind stayed as sharp as the edge of his spear. He was not, however, without mercy. Those that had survived the magical attack and were on the ground would be spared his spear. His weapon was not a tool for mercy!

[Zoah Refrains from action, opting to watch instead of kill wounded men]

[Ukrainian Ranger]

Tarana was shocked by the events around her, no, not by the deaths arounds. She killed quite a lot in duels, tavern brawls and other unpleasant situations. But behavior of her allies was a revelation. For Myrlin it was just another funny game, the drunk enjoyed to bring sufferings, the angelborn acted like a machine and the lich chose to turn his attention to harmless fleeing opponents. No one even tried to make bandits surrender now, In her eyes the party was determined to kill them all... Something she had no desire to participate in

Tarana keeps to be in self-defence  mode, trying to get out of line of fire between her mage-companions and surviving archers

[Ross Vernal]

(Round 4)

Instead of dealing with the swordsmen near him, Morgred took a few quick steps back, its attention riveted on the fleeing thieves. After all, attempting to steal the goods of the party most certainly constituted "harm" as far as the undead was concerned. After delivering a taunt and evading another blow, the undead would make a series of quick gestures and fling its arms out towards the fleeing thieves. Unlike the last attack, there would be no such visible ghostly attack; those who had the Sight to see would notice tendrils snaking forth from its arms towards the thieves. Three of the thieves were smart and/or scared enough to be preemptively zig-zagging and juking as though their lives depended on it; the other two were not so lucky. The closest one would be struck full-force by the attack, stumble, and go down hard, having dramatically and painfully sprained his ankle. (3 HP damage, 7 HP non-lethal damage, TKO'd). The other would feel her body burning with fatigue, her stride shortening as her pace slowed.

Myrln, already feeling the strain from attempting handfuls of illusions one after the other, as well as having partially veiled his party members and briefly fought the mages off, would thrust most of the rest of his power into a 6th-tier transmutation spell, aimed to entrap the spellcasters. Sweat would break out on his face as he felt himself growing mentally exhausted from the strain. A few moments would pass where it felt as thought nothing would happen, but he would finally be rewarded by the spell's release, causing a minor backlash as his overstretched power snapped back like a rubber band under tension, causing a splitting headache, dizziness, and a sensation of dry mouth. (1 HP damage) Almost at once, the mage being tended to and the one doing the tending would vanish underground, the surface violently heaving and thrashing before going abruptly still. The other three mages would struggle to "tread" and remain in place, although one was quick enough to start shedding her outer robe.


Neun would give the two swordsmen a cheerful, insane grin, back up slightly, and then make as though he were throwing his axe towards the closest fighter. Lines of red flames would shoot up the weapon before a red-hot axe of pure flame would fly forth from the handle, nearly tearing the arm off of one swordsman and neatly cauterizing the wound. (8 HP damage.) As the crippled bandit dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, Neun would check the momentum of his blade, then pivot and put his hips into a fatal swing, horizontally splitting the skull of the downed warrior.

Zoah would refrain from aggression, simply moving and jabbing at the surviving archers to keep them at bay. Given the relative threat range of the spear in comparison to those of daggers, this action would be successful. Several of the archers would give up entirely, beginning their retreat to assist their downed members.

Tarana, feeling that her part in the battle was done, backed away from the scene in horror.

(Round 5)
The three unharmed thieves would get the fuck out of there, making it to their horses and riding the hell away from the adventuring party at a full gallop.

The archers, realizing that in moments, their raiding party had nearly a quarter of its members dead and almost half of the total seriously wounded, threw down their arms in an act of surrender. If the angelborn was content to show them mercy, they would certainly take it while they still could.

The swordsman facing off against the Dwarf would consider his odds, notice his fellows laying down arms, and cursed, flinging his sword down as he held up his hands, taking a few steps back almost without noticing.

The wise moves of the rest of their party, however, would not stop the three swordsmen facing off against the distracted Morgred, however. Two would quickly move to the side and strike together, going high and low to distract Morgred, while the third would lunge forward and attempt to sever the spine of the undead. Sensing its folly mere moments before the potential fatal consequences of allowing itself to be distracted from squaring off against three-to-one odds, the undead being would decide that sacrificing a limb was far superior to the alternative, and flung out one arm to stop the first blade from piercing its side. The sword blow would cut directly through its arm, severing it as the necropriest attempted to parry the thrust to the side with a slight spin, narrowly evading the third blow as the thrust pierced through its body. (Leather Armor absorbs 4 HP damage; 6 HP damage.)

The swordsman would attempt to withdraw the blade, only to find that Morgred had seized the weapon, fury emanating from the creature as it used the last of its mana and engaged in a Soulburn to channel pure death into its enemy. The swordsman would find himself unable to release the blade, eyes widening in horror as the flesh leached from his bones and dissolved into sand, leaving nothing but a withered and bleached skeleton as Morgred watched, a terrifying expression on his face.

The two swordsmen would watch in horror, and dropped their weapons in surrender, unaware of how close they were to finishing off the necropriest. Something about watching someone shrivel up and die in front of them made them seriously rethink their odds against their undead opponent.

***

The combat was over. Disarmed and bound, the captive bandits looked shocked, happy to be alive, and resentful of the fact that what had started as an ambush had ended up as a slaughter.



(14/15 Archers: Dead, 3, 4, 6, 8, 10, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 18, 19, 20.
7/10 Swordsmen: Dead, Dead, Dead, Dead, Dead, 2, 5, 10, 13, 14
5/5 Mages: Dead, Dead, 12 (Trapped), 15 (Escape 1/2), 19 (Trapped)
1/1 Leader: Dead
5/5 Horse Thieves: TKO, Fleeing 2/3, Escaped, Escaped, Escaped)

Zoah: 16/23 HP
Myrln: 7/10 HP, out of mana, unable to cast for at least 4 hours.
Tarana: 21/21
Morgred: 2/11, out of mana, soulburned for the next 24 hours.
Neun: 21/22 HP, moderate amount of mana]

[Gamerlord]

Morgred reattached it's arms and leaned in close to the two remaining swordsmen who had dared to strike against it.
Damnable fools. You now have a choice... you see the remains of your comrade there? Do you wish to end up like him? If not, then you will obey me. Your lives belong to me now.

[Chink]

Neun grabbed a mana potion to charge back up keep on hand for emergencies, and a new flask to calm down with.

[Xantalos]

Myrln shook with the effort of remaining upright. He wryly reflected that his old tutor would have slapped him silly for running out of mana like that.
Stupid boy. Never let yourself be vulnerable like that. As a mage, your magic is your greatest and only weapon.
Yes, Master, he'd inevitably reply.
Feh. Codgy bastard wouldn't know a fight if it crawled up his arse and burst out his chest.

That bit of obligatory reflection done with, he moved to the mages.
Impressive casting, gentlemen! Not nearly as impressive as me, of course, but what have you and all that. The point is, you lost and thus I'll be taking your supplies, thank you.

Loot the supplies of the mages, ie potions, casting implements, anything valuable on their person, etc.

He strolled away from them and toward the archers, offhandedly saying, Feel free to kill them if you want. They are magic users, after all. Dangerous and spooky. Ooooo.

He then relieves the archers, hell, any other bandits that remain, of their possessions, weaponry, and any possessions.

Myrln then turns and puts all the bandit possessions into a pile, turns to the party, and says cheerfully, Well, do we kill them or not?

[Gamerlord]

We camp here for now. I want an answer from these two and I need to prepare a ritual to fully repair myself and ready myself for true combat. And I will need the rest of the captives for it.

[Xantalos]

Tut tut, Morgred. If you need souls to devour or what have you, you'll just have to share with the rest of us.
Don't worry, we don't eat souls, he assures the terrified bandits.
Point being , we need to interrogate at least one of them.
He looks at the bandits.
Speak up, you folk. Which one of you was the second in command? Lieutenant? Whatever it is.