[IC]Vesper: The Siege of Pravhda

[Eonas]

Panting and glancing at the wall of darkness fearfully, Lanyon cries "Shut the gates! Shut all the gates, close all the entrances! The living dead are upon us!"

Then he turns towards his companions and lowers his tone. "That vile figure atop the mausoleum... did you see it?"

[Mathemagics]

Several of the guards look slightly confused by Lanyon's shouting until one of them with more sense than the others spurs them into motion.

"Just do it! Light knows what must be out there in this unnatural night!"

The gate slams shut behind you, offering a modicum of security and reassurance. But at the same time, you realize that if every body in the graveyard was to be reanimated (and it certainly seemed like that was the case from what you saw as you fled), you might not be entirely safe. The militia guard who seems to be a little more on top of things turns towards your group nervously.

"What did you see out there? Do you have any idea what's going on?"

[RandomWombat]

"The dead in the graveyard have risen!" Kenneth replies to the guard above them. "They march on Pravhda! Quickly, we need to get to the guard captain, the militia commander, whoever is in charge of mounting a defense!"

[TandemChelipeds]

"And you can say Count Gazhekov sent you!" adds Nikolai, brandishing his signet ring. "Good thinking, Kenneth," he mutters under his breath. He searches his packs and pulls out an everburning torch, then loads his musket with a flare round and whispers a little prayer that it'll hold together this time. "Have we got any fire? Any light sources at all? A dispell on that darkness will do in a pinch, this is no time for a mage to be shy. I have clout, and I'll personally vouch for any unbranded spellcaster who helps save this city with their magic. You'll have earned your pardon, as far as I'm concerned." Then he starts strategizing... Lightssake, he needs figures!

Intimidate
(on the signet-brandishing)

[roll0]

Spellcraft
(to identify the phenomenon)

[roll1]

Knowledge(Religion)
(to identify the phenomenon)

[roll2]

Knowledge(Religion)
(to identify the undead)

[roll3]

Knowledge(Local)
(to see what he knows of the numbers and disposition of the local spellcaster population)

[roll4]

Knowledge(Local)
(to determine how proactive the local clergy are about this sort of thing)

[roll5]

Perception
(to see if there are siege engines or wall-mounted cauldrons around)

[roll]1d20+2[roll]

Quick Clear(in case the musket's still broken): 0 grit

If none of these rolls are useful, I will choke a b****.

[TandemChelipeds]

I screwed up the formatting in that last post. Here's my Perception check: [roll0]

[Mathemagics]

The hapless militiaman's eyes grow wide as he runs back over towards several of the others, shouting the warning. They in turn do much the same, and the message is quickly passed along. Within moments bells begin ringing out across the town, causing most of the civilians in the area to run crying for their homes while a few run over to join the already-present militia. The torches lining the stone wall are doubled, creating a flicking aura of light against the supernatural night surrounding the city. With the enhanced visibility, the sharp-eyed can now barely make out the vanguard of the approaching horde and cry out an alarm.

It takes some time in the confusion, but you do eventually notice a few of the militia peel off from the others and take off running down the main street, hopefully to let those in charge know exactly what is going on. In the meantime though, it is likely only to be a few minutes until the undead are at the gates...


Intimidate- the guard is sufficiently spurred into action and (eventually) got around to passing on the message that somebody needed to inform the Mayor and Bishop.

Spellcraft- You cannot tell much about the darkness, only that it is some kind of powerful supernatural night.

Knowledge (Religion)- Again, there is not much you can recognize, though you are certain there are any number of fell magics which might readily be connected to this phenomenon.

Knowledge (Religion)- From everything you've seen, and the reports of the men on the wall, the approaching horde is composed almost entirely of zombies and skeletons created from the corpses in the graveyard.

Knowledge (Local)- While it is hard to know how many arcane spellcasters might reside in Pravhda (probably not many due to the city's unfriendly attitude towards them), Nikolai is quite certain that the Church of Illumination stationed here should have at least one divine spellcaster of worth, perhaps with one or two lesser priests and just as many apprentices.

Knowledge (Local)- While you would like to think the clergy would readily get behind obliterating all of the encroaching undead abominations, you really cannot be entirely sure. Pravhda is a somewhat unusual place and the clerics may be just as equally strange.

Perception- You see nothing along the walls that readily lends itself to fighting off a potential siege. For that matter, the stone wall is only about 10 feet high and is clearly designed to keep things out simply by virtue of it being there rather than being built to withstand a concerted attack.

[RandomWombat]

In reply to Nikolai's call for magic users, Kenneth reminds, "There was the branded wizard we met at the shop, my contact. Gunther, was it?" Being as he was rushing with adrenaline and panic, Kenneth wasn't sure he was recalling the name right. "Perhaps he has fire magic? Either knows some, or has something in his shop. Something we can use to burn the horde? I'll go find him!" The witch begins making his way towards the shop where they met his contact before.

[Rysc]

Everything is happening so fast. Too fast. Solanin's mind is whirling, and a headache of arguing Voices doesn't help. She grits her teeth and tries to scan the area, to figure out what to do, but all she comes up with is a blank. Or a blur, more accurately. Then the witch says something about finding someone. That she could help with. Or at least it's something she can do. Trying to brush away the confusion in her head, she stumbles after him.

[Eonas]

Lanyon follows, cursing himself for having used up his mutagen. He could still make another, but there seemed to be so little time...

[Mathemagics]

As you run through the narrow and twisting streets you can see the growing fear and panic among the townsfolk as the alarm spreads along with the news of the approaching horde. Apart from those trying to go in the opposite direction from yourselves, you encounter little resistance or obstruction on the way and manage to make a good pace towards the part of town where Gunther's shop is located. Unfortunately, when you arrive, you find the small store surrounded by at least a dozen people who have managed to corner the hapless mage outside. The crowd presses in around the clearly terrified Branded, preventing his escape not yet laying a hand on him; given their present temperament ,however, doesn't seem that he has much time until they decide to change that and take action.

Drawing closer, you're able to make out some of the individuals shouting among the crowd.

"No good filthy mage! Trying to run and hide when there's an army of undead breathing down our necks?!"
"He's probably the one who made them!"
"He ain't making things any better, that's for sure!"
"I say we lynch him up, just to be safe!"
"Not like anyone'll miss a bloody mage anyway!"

Gunther's eyes are wide with terror as the townsfolk close in around him. You see his mouth working the air in an attempt to speak, but either he's too petrified to do so or his feeble attempts to defend himself aren't able to be heard over those crying out for his blood. In any case, if you don't do something and quick, the mob is clearly going to kill the poor man...

[RandomWombat]

"Yes, let's kill the man who can shoot fire while the horde of undead breaks down our gates. Light forbid we have him use that to, say, burn the undead. Truly brilliant," Kenneth mocks in a voice audible only to the rest of the party. "The logic of these simpletons is astounding." All the same, he's not about to get in-between the mob and their prey. That''s far too much for his feeble constitution. A look is given aside to Nikolai, "There any church protocol for dealing with angry mobs?"

[Rysc]

Idiots. Solanin's not quite sure where that thought came from, but for once she's in perfect agreement. Though really, how does one handle a mob? The wizard or whatever he is doesn't seem like he'll last much longer, though. She fervently hopes having two probably obvious warriors of the church--one a count, to boot--will prevent anything from happening to them. Solanin takes a deep breath. The crowd isn't that large...right?

"You! Listen up!" Her voice is surprisingly loud. "'No good'? 'Trying to run and hide'? Well, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I don't see YOU doing anything against those undead, either. 'Not making things better'? That describes you sorry lot PERFECTLY! How about, instead of trying to MURDER your fellow citizens, you turn that hotheadedness towards something useful, like, oh, I don't know, maybe HELPING THE SOLDIERS? Or maybe why don't you try KILLING SOME OF THE UNDEAD YOURSELVES? They can't be much harder than terrified old men to people of such great valor as yourself."

[roll0]

[Odentin]

Siyavash, finally recovering from the blow to his head and being dragged away from his duty, steps forward. He moves without speaking, shouldering people out of the way if necessary, until he stands over the cowering mage. He turns back to face the crowd and drops his hammer down in front of him with a dull thud. He stands defiant, resting both hands on the upturned handle of his hammer, and stares down the angry mob, "This man is under the protection of the Light and the Order of the Pyre. Anyone who wishes to do him harm, must come through me to do so."

[TandemChelipeds]

"Agreed." Nikolai pushes through the crowd and brandishes his firearm, his back to the quivering spellcaster. "This conduct is unbecoming of civilized folk. I'll protect him with my life before I deny him due process, and we don't have time to waste either way." He relaxes a bit and turns to the mage, keeping the mob in the corner of his eye. "We need your help, Gunther. Undead and unnatural darkness are advancing on our walls. Foul necromantic magics are at work. The town is hardly making an effective case for its continued survival, but we're travellers. We were just stopping by on our way elsewhere. If you seek passage to another part of the world, I'd be glad to let you hitch a ride, but I won't do it until these people are safe. I swore an oath to protect them, and if you want out, you'll help me fulfill it. If you don't, I'm sure the place will be considerably more bearable without the townsfolk staring daggers at you for turning your back on them. Or for existing, if they learn their lesson from all this." Nikolai eyes the crowd at this last condition. "All we need is a bit of light and a bit of fire. A bit of healing too, if you can manage it. If we work together, we can get out of this alive. What do you say?"


Intimidate
(on the crowd)

[roll0]

Diplomacy
(on Gunther)

[roll1]

[Mathemagics]

Several in the crowd have the decency to look shamed as they're shouted at and reprimanded, though just as many return your arguments with obstinate glares. There's several moments of tension, during which the only sound is the general grumbling of the crowd as a few of its members argue among themselves before one of the prime instigators shakes his head dramatically. His face twisted into an expression of disgust, he turns from the party back towards the cornered mage, muttering something along the lines of "waste of time" and spitting poignantly on the cobblestones at Gunther's feet before marching off. Several others in the crowd leave to follow him, while still others disperse along their own routes, clearly not wishing to get involved any further.

Once alone, Gunther suddenly lets out a massive sigh of relief and slumps back against the wall of his shop. Gulping down a few ragged breaths, he swallows to clear the nervousness from his voice and nods in appreciation.

"M-My thanks. If-If you had not come along when you did... Anyway! I th-think it would be best if I laid low for a little while now. It isn't much, but... here..."

The Branded mage reaches inside his cloak and withdraws a handful of parchment, which he thrusts towards Kenneth. Not waiting for fear of more angry townsfolk, he quickly slips inside his shop; a moment later you hear the audible click of a key in a lock followed by a thump which you would guess is a chair being shoved against the door from within.


The bundle of parchment contains half a dozen scrolls, each of which is conveniently labeled in nonmagical print at the top. The scolls in total are:
2x Cure Moderate Wounds
1x Acid Arrow
1x Daylight
1x Bull's Strength
1x Fireball

All scrolls are CL 3rd, except for the Fireball one which is CL 5.


Suddenly a scream echoes out from down the street, quickly joined by a second then a third! Townspeople begin fleeing in your direction, the cause of their panic revealing itself in the same moment as a large number of zombies lurch after them. In the rush one man goes down, and is quickly set upon as the undead stumble over and fall on top of him, swiftly tearing out his throat and beginning to dismember him! You can't be sure how, but the enemy has somehow managed to get inside the walls!


Solanin: [roll0]
Siyavash: [roll1]
Kenneth: [roll2]
Nikolai: [roll3]
Lanyon: [roll4]

Zombies!: [roll5]

Kenneth, Nikolai, and Lanyon get to act first. Then zombies will go, followed by the whole party acting. There are 6 zombies, all about 40 feet from your group. The street is 20 feet wide and has no obstructions in it.

[RandomWombat]

Awkwardly, Kenneth stows the scrolls forcefully shoved into his arms in the bag at his left side with the rest of his scrolls. "So much for recruiting his help, then. Not completely ungrateful at least." Turning to the others, Kenneth is about to ask what to do now when a scream echoes down the street. Looking towards its source, his expression droops. "Oh no, not more of them." The bite he'd sustained before still stung, and he had a feeling it was going to keep stinging until it was dealt with. This was one distraction he didn't need. Quickly pulling out one of his own scrolls he recited it. Light swirled around his remaining wounds, restoring them.

Using a scroll of CL2 Cure Light Wounds on himself.
[roll0]

[TandemChelipeds]

"No, no, no! We do not eat with our fingers!" Nikolai draws his musket and fires a flare straight into the face of one of the gorging zombies. The thing fizzles down the alley, sputtering and piercing the darkness like a lance of ominous scarlet light.

Modified misfire value: 1-4
Damage reduced to 1/2
Target blinded for 1 round, 15 Fort reduces to dazzled
Creatures in 20-ft radius dazzled for 1 round, 15 Fort negates
Attack: [roll0] Damage: Half of [roll1]

[Eonas]

Lanyon, to his own surprise, snarles at the zombies through distinctly human teeth. Gripping his mace in one hand, he quickly downs a protective potion: a pale translucent disk appears in front of him like a spectral shield.

Drinking a potion of Shield, +4 AC raises me up to 18 AC.