[PF] Bereavement of the Righteous (IC)

[Mornings]

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The Herald of The End (The Past)
AR 4989, 31st of Arodus

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The remains of the ravaged world, of civilization had all heard the call to arms on the 1st of Arodus. The Hero of The Sword Regalia, Alexander Rinston, once known as 'Menace', in another life during his days as the famous brigand and highwayman, had returned. It had been 80 years to the day since the Hero of The War of Dawn had been seen. The stories of his valor and selflessness were sung by the bards and told to children. The Scion of Righteous Spirit and Brotherhood. Viscount Rinston was known by all peoples that remained within the civil world as, 'The Man Who Stayed Behind'. The Black Gate which had been sealed by the celestial hero, Dawn, had required a great sacrifice - one of his valorous soldiers had to remain locked within the unfathomable darkness of the demonic pits within The Black Gate; their body held in temporal stasis, while their soul energy would power the seal like a redundant source of energy, should the worst come to pass and the ward be broken. His younger brother, Caim Rinston, without hesitation had offered his own life to seal away the enemy which threatened to consume humanity and the world they knew, but Alexander refused to accept his brother's suggestion, felling him with a stout blow to the back of his head and choosing to take his place instead - saving the life of his younger sibling. The tales had been told, and retold, exaggerated and made into myth and legend.

...And so, when he returned to the world once more. A man, a legend, walking once more upon the tainted, yet healing earth. All men knew. The seal had been broken. The Black Gate was open. It was a matter of hours before the call was issued, the summons sent out. The Sword Regalia assembled once more in the ruins of the city of Magnimar. Of the Original Regalia, those who had fought along side Dawn, almost all had vanished from the world, with the exception of Viscount Rinston and a few old men who had served in the battles long past, living out the last of their days. The glory of The Sword Regalia was not lost, but had diminished with the loss of its efficient structure and assembly of the Original Regalia. The Celestial Heros, The Great Generals of Dawn has left with the godly hero back into planes beyond, but they each left a an heir to lead The Regalia when the time should come the warriors would be needed again. The innate powers they possessed strengthened and allowed The Sword Regalia to exist, and call to Dawn and the holy warriors again, to summon forth the armies of the celestial's to smite the enemy once more. It was a power, a responsibility.... a political chess piece put into play.

Those descendants became The Great Kings. Through wedlock and political maneuvers, those of the sacred bloodline became symbols of a state's sovereignty and legitimate claim to lead those who had been blessed and chosen by The Regalia. The Kings, Queens and great powers of the great city-states and territories of the world they knew were led now by those who had inherited such blood, cementing both their authority and future of their domains by this unwritten 'divine right' which they now manipulated... but now everything had changed. The design, and purpose of the existence of their bloodline now was required in the war that was to come... Some rose to the occasion, others hid behind the walls of their cities in fear. The disorganization and dysfunctional relationships between each of them and their own understandings of the foundation of significance created chaos for The Regalia. Some simply had become ignorant of their own role to play, or did not care for such 'trivial matters'. The rot and decay of near a century of lost history, traditions and obscene luxuries had crippled the system the Original Regalia had constructed to rally their forces once again, and Alexander Rinston knew it... The letters reached him swiftly in Magnimar, politely declining the summons to assemble and rally the armies his brothers had led to fight the coming darkness. With the absence of even one of The Great King's compliance the whole of the system that had been left to them would fall to ruin. His heart was heavy, and he knew despair. They could not win with the forces of The Sword Regalia alone and he knew that to be the truth, but they could hold the evils and taint of The Gate at bay while the New Generation of Regalia was gathered. He sent summons to each and every familiar name, face and soldier who was still loyal to him, while gathering the battle-ready forces The Sword Regalia still possessed, to gather the new Regalia Warriors that they may be brought together for the imminent war. Then he marched.

He marched with all of The Warriors of The Regalia he could muster, all those The Regalia had recovered, trained and initiated into their forces. A band of less then 800 brave, but fierce warriors, possessing the divine powers granted to them by The Regalia. They came upon The Black Gate, fighting back the abyssal creatures, and establishing fortifications from which to operate and hold the enemy at bay. Eventually more permenent outposts and forts were established to hold the enemy at bay, but it was only a deadlock to a battle which would not end...

One man, a man Viscount Rinston knew well, had heard his call. Though he was now old, his bones brittle, and his joints ached, the fire still burned in his heart. He had not rested for a day since the battle had come to an 'end', preparing for the day the seal would fall. The Church of Dawn, was a powerful religious organization which had emerged during The Great War, dedicated to Dawn who they believed to be Lord Ragathiel, while also venerating the other Empyreal Lords. He had used his influence within The Church to amass information, scout, and acquire the resources needed to begin gathering The New Generation of The Regalia. He was not as strong as he had been in youth, but his foresight and wisdom had sharpened with his age. He knew it was very likely the celestial armies of the battles from his past may not come again to fight at their side should The Great Kings fail to gather. It would be The Sword Regalia's responsibility to turn the tide, to fight, to bring the war to the enemy - and to accomplish such, they would require the young warriors of a new generation, who had forgotten the horrors, the terrors of his past.

Though he was nearing the end of his days, his strength diminishing, he took up his sword once more. With a small number of clergymen he took to the roads. He would gather them, he would rally together all the young Regalia he could and bring them to Magnimar where the last of The Original Regalia he knew of waited for them. In his heart, he knew this may be his last venture, but he believed in the young souls he had learned of, sending other priests to gather those he may miss, and those he may not reach should he fail... but he would not fail. He swore it.


The Gathering (The Present)
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:30 AM

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/Untitled_zpsmbihiymo.png

The rock and creek of the large wagon as it traveled had become a white-noise, they had spent 18 Days on the road now. The patter of rain on the thick canvas of the large wagon sung a unpredictable song with the splash of mud as the horses trod onwards. The towns and small settlements this close to The Ruins of The City of Monuments were filled with the dead and undead. The burnt houses and corpses littered the way as they finally came to the Lost Coast Road, making their final approach to the city of Magnimar. Father Sipel had told them to avoid combating every single lifeless creature they encountered, and now it was evident why. The taint this close to the city was remarkable, and the wandering dead seemed more common then the living. Only armed caravans like their own made way to the city. They had all heard Father Sipel's story, it had been over a year since he had set out to gather those like them... those like the strange people who sat gathered about them. It had been a chaotic and spontaneous venture, picking up new face after face which The Priest seemed to have met and already arranged to meet. It had been a rather quiet journey, as the hordes of unliving that wandered about seemed to be attracted to the sight and sounds of the living, but now things had finally calmed down. The stress of constant threat, the unpleasent bounce of the wagons wheels and prayers of the clerics and faithful who traveled with them became a monotonous ritual for the last 17 days, and today was no different, except now, in the distance their destination lay visible before them. It would perhaps only be less then a half hour before they came to the eastern gate and to Star Silver Plaza between the district of Naos and The Alabaster District.

The old priest sighed with relief seeing the city come into view. His large bastard-sword in hand, as ever. Though he was old and possessed not immense strength the practice, grace and agility he could wield the old and worn weapon shown he had been a great warrior once, but he time had come and gone. The young clerics that drove the wagon wore simple white robes and carried heavy crossbows and short-swords, though they had rarely needed to employ them during the journey. They were young, and not particularly skilled in matters of combat, but they were kind young men who had tended to them well during the venture.

Father Sipel, turn about at the head of the wagon, sitting on the step to the drivers-seat which was occupied by the hooded young cleric. The wind whipped the light rain into the warmer interior of the wagon, the dawning sun was cloaked behind a dismal grey sky, yet still the grizzled-old priest smirked from his scarred face.

"Please forgive all the mystery and unpleasentries of our rushed endeavor. I know most of you have barely had a chance to even introduce yourselves to one another in the chaos. But it was a necessary measure, as you can now see. We have some time before we reach the city, please feel free to talk among yourselves now. I know being forced to travel in silence has not been the easiest thing, but I thank you for your resilience and understanding. - I've heard the city is currently having some difficulties with the damned undead for the last month. I expect we will see quite a large gathering of the things shortly. While I encourage you to of course speak among yourselves, please prepare for battle. I don't expect anything exceptional, but at the very least we need to clear a path for the wagon - the gate hasn't been opened for close to a fortnight if word from our friends in the city still holds true. You are all exceptional warriors blessed with the might of The Regalia. Take heart in that, and put these tormented souls to rest when the time comes.

We will be traveling to The Triodea, a large theater located in the plaza if you follow the path from the gate, to officially register you as warriors of The Sword Regalia, as well as doing what we can to support the war-effort... If something were to happen to me, take my sword and present it to The Regalia. - Yes, I can still swing this old chunk of steel well enough, but I'm old... Too old for all this gallivanting and heroics. All my hopes and dreams rest on your shoulders. You're the future..." He leaned back on the steps. Father Sipel was old, older then most men. He was just a human, but had lived for nearly 106 years. A venerable, old warrior who was sustained by the blessing of The Regalia. A warrior like them, but his days had ended long ago. He had been a famous swordsmen, a famous warpriest - in his day, but he had long since put down his sword to tend to the young souls born into the world that he and so many like him had fought to save.

This was their beginning.


You have generally traveled in near-silence for 18 days gathering new faces a long the way. All PC's are now in the large wagon heading towards the city. Feel free to socialize - however, prepare for imminent battle.



Father Michael Est Sipel
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[Tuvarkz]

The Half-Orc in a Hell Knight's signature armor remained silent. He wasn't particularly content of being aware about half of the group he was traveling with having Chaotic tendencies, but at least none harbored evil inside of them. At least that meant he'd be able to sleep without major disturb.

[darklink_shadow]

Prime, and Legion

Athletically built, with yellow skin and daggers for ears, most people would mistake Annabelle for some form of elf. Her origins were, in fact, entirely alien in nature. Conjured up from Prime need to have a parental figure, the outsider took on many qualities of a mother. Kind, patient and loving, if one didn't know or understand their true relationship, it would be hard to not be convinced that Annabelle really was Prime's mother. A mother in full plate, carrying two bent daggers.

On her lap was a small pillow upon which Prime lay snoozing. A hedonistic creature, most interested in enjoying what life has to offer than saving it, Prime nevertheless is eager to keep the world from crumbling. His motives are mostly selfish; a lust for glory, a desire to gain wealth and fame for his actions, but his motivations are also pure and simple. He truly wants to be a hero, and wants to earn his wealth, fame, glory and endless supply of women, wine and food. Though quite often naive, Prime's personality attracts a great deal of followers and support. And even if it didn't, his mind continues to conjure up outsiders into existence, and urging them to help.

Curled around Annabelle's feet were two snake-like creatures, Betty and Daryl. Thick spines run along their backs, but the most unsnake-like quality about them was the four tiny feet they had. These feet were mostly useless, and the creatures moved like snakes, but the back feet at least helped them stand up when alert to noises. Right now, however, they were lazily laying and waiting for something to happen. Zizi, a Warcat, lay between them, watching the entire party.

Perched on Annabelle's shoulder was the tinest Roc one could ever hope to see. Roughly the size of a normal bird, the creature nevertheless was not mere bird. It's eyes belied a spark of intelligence. Despite this, Ridley was one of the few companions of Prime that weren't conjured up. He was a proud, noble beast of the land, who genuinely loved being around Prime. Haven been raised since he was very young, and had fallen from a tree, Prime had earned his loyalty and trust the same way one might earn the trust of a son.

Another creature, Gannon the Mouse, ran around with limitless energy. Other than being much smaller than most mice, Gannon appeared very much normal, were it not for his eyes looking like molten pools of lava while they were open. Through he never stopped moving, the mouse also never got very far from his master either. And so he raced in a circle, going nowhere fast.

When they were told they may speak, the elven outsider nudged her charge with a single finger that was almost as large as he was. A weak growl indicated that planned to stay asleep, but another nudge roused him. The tiny fey looked up into his mother's eyes, and it was clear that they had some form of mental communication before Prime turned to face the other people.

"Good morning. Or afternoon. What time is it?"

Still sleepy, the tiny fey creature smiled at the assembled masses and stretched. "When do we start saving the world?"

[grumblyarcher]

The stranger sitting toward the front of the wagon, notably taciturn and aloof even before the enforced silence, drew his odd weapon and began methodically checking it over. Even for those with any sort of familiarity with firearms, this was an odd device. To say it was like the one-shot pistols and rare revolvers Alkenstar allowed to be exported would be like saying that wolves are similar to dogs. It is true, after a fashion but the design was much cleaner, every piece fitting together with a precision that even the Grand Duchy's gunsmiths would be puzzled by.

A beautiful piece, to be certain, but very obviously designed to be a tool. Any pleasing aesthetic qualities were merely a side effect of the excellent craftsmanship. Still, the stranger was not happy with the assurances its appearance made and swung the chamber out to check that the primer caps on each round were clean and clear before carefully checking the hammer as well.

The man himself was lean and slightly on the tall side without being too remarkable. He had spent the majority of the trip with his wide-brimmed hat down over his eyes, either dozing or outright ignoring his fellows. With his hat pushed back, his startling amber eyes could be seen, eyes that seemed just a little bit too insightful into the natures of his companions. He wore a heavy brown cowhide duster with a mantle that reached to his elbows over a white shirt and deer skin vest, faded blue denim trousers, and a pair of sturdy looking boots.

The light around him seemed dimmer, as though the sun were already setting behind the clouds instead of rising. The more magically savvy would pick up on the carefully stitched symbols that ran along the edges of his duster or even the faint glimmer of his ring. He was well equipped for war in his own way.

What he seemed most interested in was who was armed and how. The presence of full hellknight heavy plate caused the corner of his mouth to twitch upwards slightly in what was likely amusement. Still, his reactions to the others was mixed. Perhaps he did not think much of their weapon choices or magic, perhaps he was simply used to handling things on his own, or perhaps he simply did not trust them.

The only was who was exempt from his scrutiny was Father Sipel. He did show deference to the priest, moving aside slightly to allow the man some more space when he turned to address them. On the trip, when the older man had asked anything be done, this stranger had always stepped in to handle it when he could.

When the tiny fellow finally awoke and asked about the time, the stranger merely glanced at him and looked away. The party around him reeked of magic, and despite his used of various empowered items, the stranger seemed to dislike magic. These souls had never seen what magic could do to a body when it went bad and gods be willing, they would never have to.

[Desril]

Desril

Though it seemed as though the demonborn mage had a perpetual scowl on his face through much of the journey, save for when his companion happened to lean against him for support, after two weeks it became apparent that it was simply the position his muscles relaxed in when he was bored, rather than one of true irritation. Still, his appearance would do little to ease the minds of most folk. Though he kept his wings folded inwards, almost functioning as a leathery cape, nothing could hide the horns protruding from his head, nor his tail, and even less could conceal the perhaps comedicly oversized bastard sword he kept at his side.

Whenever the undead would make their appearance on the journey, he'd often glare at them, but ultimately decided against an assault. Though the sight of the undead seem to trigger something in him, a forgotten memory of a past life, perhaps, he almost felt compelled to destroy them but thought better of it. If I was alone, maybe, but there's no sense in putting everyone in danger, especially not with Yasha here.

For much of the trip, he kept his head down and his eyes seemed to be closed, though in truth they were open just enough to keep him aware of his surroundings as he made estimations about the skills and abilities of his traveling companions based on the way they carried themselves and the gear that they'd brought with them, of particular interest to him were the hellknight, always a concern, and the tiny man sitting in the lap of the much larger woman, though not a summoner himself, he did feel a certain kindred with those who specialized in the binding of outsiders thanks to his upbringing. Though his gaze always lingered longest on the tiefling girl, at least until he seemed to realize it and look away in a hurry. At least, that was true for a while. After a couple of days, he started doing calculations and contemplating magical theory instead. So when the veil of silence was lifted, it was only natural that he stretched his limbs and yawned before replying in a lazy, sleepy tone.

"I wouldn't be too concerned about leaving the future to us yet, Father. As long as nothing like a Nightshade makes an appearance, I'm not overly concerned about whatever undead might be gathering. I can't really vouch for them, but nobody here looks incompetent, and if the welcoming party is simple, mindless dead, then not even a thousand would be much of a threat. So I'd rather you not raise any death flags by saying something like you're 'too old' for all of this. I think we'd all much prefer this journey not being jinxed so close to its end."

Turning his attention briefly to the tiny elf, "It's morning, as one might tell from the fact that the sun hasn't even fully come over the horizon. But now that we have a chance to speak, shall we get introductions out of the way?" Despite saying this, however, he makes no attempt to give his name first.

[Mornings]

The Gathering (The Present)
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:30 AM

The old priest smiled at the young fey-child, something simple and earnest tugged at his heart looking on at the sight before him. Yet, the small trace of merriment in his smirk quickly soured, tugged down by guilt. The young, the old, they dying. The brave and cowardly alike had been chosen by the merciless hand of fate to bare the power and responsibility of The Regalia. He felt no joy in that he gathered those about him to face the wicked forces that rose once more, to lead them forward in battle. He had lived well, known joy in the days he had put down his old sword. He helped many people in both his military and priestly service, yet he felt he had done so much more for the people, the world, without the use of his blade.

It had been over a year since he had set out with his loyal clergymen, and he had cursed under his breath at himself that day with how easily his swords remembered the weight and balance of The Golden Flame, his trusted blade. The blade Alexander Rinston had trusted him with to defend the people with in his youth. He held the same light, the same fire in his eyes like those around him back in those days. The zeal, the confidence, the vigor. They each believed in themselves, trusted in their own individual prowess... to be young. He had learned much in his time, and more for every defeat he had suffered during the war, forging friendships that surpassed even time it seemed, with his closest friend's return. He had lost friends during the long years of battle, but of the squadron he had led, not a single man had lost their life. He took great heart in his accomplishments during his tenure as a commanding officer. The hard lessons he had learned from his failures had given him insight, had purged him of his vanity and made room in his heart for humility and compassion. It was together they stood and fought back the tides of nameless evils which washed upon them, brothers, trusting another with each other's life. But, those were just days of glory... long past and forgotten by most. Now he was just this old man, this old dying priest, with an aching back and arthritis. 'The Golden Flame' had burned brightly for a time, but now it was the time for the young. He had trained many young men, many prospects for the future. He leaned on his sword as a crutch as the wagon hit a bump, a small smirk rising to the surface as his thoughts drifted to his wandering son who still journeyed, venturing to find his own place in the world. He had been ordained a priest, but his path was far different from his own, still he had such high hopes for him. Dear, Kwen...

Father Sipel coughed into his sleeve, the taste of iron filling his mouth, as blood stained the fabric on his arm. He sighed, how much longer, he wondered. Looking up at the young fey, he tried to smile, though only half his face responded, the other half was left numb and unresponsive from the reconstructive magics which had pieced back together half his face where the Balor's whip had struck him during The Battle of Black, when Dawn finally sealed The Gate. He rubbed the side of his face. It still burned... it always burned, the ache never diminished, it was the constant reminder of his past he would carry to his grave. The reminder of the souls of the men he could not save.


"Haha, It's dawn, child. Though it would be no exaggeration to say that our journey... our battle had begun weeks ago. We've just been fortunate in only having had dealt with such minor encounters. I believe that streak of luck however is close to ending... Magnimar had said to have been under siege from the undead for the time we've been on the road. But we must break through if the battle has not broken... You are right though my horned-friend, It is not truly the undead that concern me. Friends within the city have told me of whispers of The Black Circle's resurgence... Those insane cultists, demonologists, and necromancers once loyal to the dark entities beyond The Gate long ago. We'll be finding the truth for ourselves shortly - but if the worst comes to pass, and this is true, we must route them out and protect the city and The Regalia.... before the true threat rises again. The Black Circle has always been a proxy of would-be fanatics, but have never been beyond controlling or redemption. Though long-long ago, when I served during the war... they discovered a profane ritual to raise The Messengers. The servitors of the evils of The Black Gate. A Death Cult... a black coven of Dark Sister's who herald the apocalypse and call forth the entities of the abyssal dark of whatever fowl depths The Black Gate reaches, pulling them into this world, and are not subject to the cruelties of the dark things they conjure... even the damned devils grant them sanctuary. Above all. We cannot let The Messenger's rise again to circumvent The Black Gate, nor the seal we must restore to it." He swept his gaze over each of them, still leaning on his sword. "Please, all of you. I need you to understand how vital your purpose... No. Even these next few minutes will be. The forces that may be gathered will pose no threat to the power and might blessed upon each of you by The Regalia, but this is about more then that. More than us. We cannot fail. Crushing the enemy is not enough, we must hit them before they can act - we must intercept their plots and maneuvers. So much more then a single city is at stake. More then the lives of everyone here, or those we now travel to defend. This is war. Wars are not won by a single battle alone. If we are out maneuvered, and the enemy is allowed to bring their full forces upon us without The Great Kings or The Armies of Dawn at our backs - Death will be the least of our problems. - I don't know if I will see the end of this war with you. I am ill and not as strong as I once was..."

He ran a hand down the side of his scared face, with a half smirk eyeing Desril. "...I've seen my share of undead and worse crawl forth from those depths. Horrors I pray you will never see. When the Balor took my eye, believe me when I say, it was because he was not my first concern... It is not out of some misplaced sense of humility that I speak like this, it is that I know from four decades of battle. But never again.... Never again, will I possess the strength to strand before such terrible creatures. But you will. With or without some beast ripping out my heart, I am dying. You are my final charge. To prepare you all to inherit the world we have left you, and I will... before my days are done. That much I swear."


Many battles will be fought against numerous enemies, however gathering information, planning, capturing the enemy and interrogation will allow you to hit the opponent before they may even initiate their own vile plans. Winning individual battles greatly aids the war effort, but can still result in the game being lost if the enemy is able to fully assemble and unleash their forces before players are able to gather all of The Great Kings, Clear Rappan Athuk, or summon The Army of Dawn - meeting any of these 3 conditions guarantees that the might of the entities within The Black Gate are unable to overrun Golorion. Balancing intercepting enemy movements while attempting to assemble The Great Kings should be the primary focus of players as they travel and combat the enemy.

Rilesh Telly, the young, yet-senior of the two clerics cried out behind the priest pointing to the sky. Father Sipel snapped upright his sword snapping up into his hand looking out behind him, his eyes following the young-mans hand. "...By the gods. Were we too late?" The strange sight became visible to all of them as it circled about the wagon some 60ft in the air. A pitch-black raven of darkness and shade leaving a gloomy mist in its wake. An orb... a wisp of black light, like some captured dark soul followed it in its wake. The four lanterns that hung from the wagon were extinguished as the raven blindingly circled about about the wagon with blinding speed in a circle, before a half-second later before racing off into the sky. They bare had a chance to respond to the ominous sight before the shadowy bird vanished off into the sky above. Father Sipel barked out to his clerics. " TELLY! HANIS! LOAD YOUR BOLTS AND MAKE FOR MAGNIMAR, FULL SPEED!" - He looked back at the group of young Regalia behind him with evident concern in his eyes. " It is a sign of The Messengers! The city may have already fallen! There is nothing they cannot pull forth which The Black Gates seal. Prepare for battle. Prepare for the worst!" The clerics picked up their heavy crossbows and begun to load, cranking back the weapon and fitting a bolt before taking the reins. Cleric Telly looked back into the rear of the wagon yelling over his shoulder as he snapped the reins "HOLD ON!" The horses bayed and the wagon jolted forth violently, the wind and rain whipped into the canvas covered interior. Father Sipel, pulled the white band around his head tightly and quickly whispered a prayer. A golden light flickered from his hand, and surrounded him with a gentle golden light. A shield of faith against the coming darkness.


Not everyone may need it. But if you do feel free to set up whatever you need for a fight. Combat will not be beginning immediately, however, this is probably the most opportune time to do whatever you need to do, without interruption.

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[darklink_shadow]

Prime, and Legion

Still sleepy eyed, Prime looks out at the rising sun and nodded. Mm. Good morning, then. With the silence ban lifted, I'd figure someone should sing...

He sighed and listened to the talk. But when it looked like violence would be upon them soon, he sat up and began muttering arcane words. It would take a full minute of work, but soon two more of Prime's Legion would be joining them.

The tiny rat, Gannon, looked up, meeting the Annabelle. It seemed another small conversation happened when Gannon bolted out and ran on ahead of the party.

Annabelle spoke, with a voice nearly identical to Prime's, for she was just a fragment of his own mind. The rat is a skilled scout. We will see what is is happening.

It seemed the introductions would have to happen later.

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor simply chants in Infernal, targetting himself first. He then starts a second chant, targetting himself and the other two fellows he's detected as lawful, and before unleashing the spell, he says "It's Protection from Chaos, two minutes each. Can't do from Evil, but it will have to do." He then grabs his oversized bardiche, ready to jump out of the wagon. "Follow me, you'll be safer if you stay close by."

Communal Protection of Chaos on myself and the other two lawful aligned characters (Two minutes each). Expeditious Retreat on myself. (Six Minutes-Baseline speed to 60 ft, reduced to ft after Heavy Armor). Also, anyone within 10 feet of me gains +3 morale to AC and +2 morale to Will saves.
1/6 level 1 spell slots expended
1/5 level 2 spell slots expended
Stance: Black Seraph's Glare
Entering Black Seraph Style
Maneuvers Readied: Scything Strike, Iron Shell, Fear the Reaper, Seraph's Wrath, Burnished Shell, Scarlet Eye's Perception.

[The Grue]

Miles

Miles, who had been sleeping until the good Father began his monologue, lifted the brim of his hat so that it no longer covered his face. "Trouble already? Nine Hells - I was just starting to enjoy the thrilling conversation."

As the wagon lurched ahead Miles stood from his seat, half-hunched over beneath the wagon's canvas ceiling, and moved towards the back with the half-orc ready to leap out. "Oh it's fine," he said mockingly, "Don't worry about me, I'm sure your magics will be better served warding the rest of these lot. You go on ahead and clear the way, I'll stay a step back and mop up behind you. It'll be fun."

[OzzyKP]

Bored by all the chit-chat, Anzor was glad to finally get a chance to fight. He was tired of being cooped up in that wagon all this time, not that he stayed in the wagon, he often teleported out to get some fresh air. He could travel faster than the wagon anyhow, staying with the group was merely a courtesy. At least they kept their yaps shut this whole time. He wished this silence rule could keep going.

He poked his little brother and squire, Fargo, in the ribs and said, with a grin, "You feel like just whacking something?"

He gave over his handy haversack to his squire, filled with all sorts of essential wands. Always a wand for when they needed it, all acquired over the years of their travels and adventures. Fargo removes his first wand and with a flick of his wrist suddenly is clad head to toe in full plate armor.

Putting up his visor Fargo replies,"More than anything."

The two brothers busy themselves with various incantations and spells to prepare for battle.

Anzor wanted a good look at what was ahead, but couldn't really see much from inside the wagon. In between battle preparations he teleported straight up about 50 feet and then back in his seat after taking a look.


Fargo casts swift girding on himself using a wand UMD check: [roll0] (considering it is impossible to fail, do I need to roll?)
Fargo then uses his Battlefield Presence ability to confer the Phalanx Fighter teamwork feat upon all within the wagon (+1 AC and saves vs. evil creatures per adjacent ally with the feat)
Fargo calls upon his innate magic and casts Heroic on Anzor (+2 attack, saves & skill checks) (if there is time, he casts it on himself and others in the wagon as well, starting with Kravor)

Anzor spends an Arcane Pool point (9 left) to give himself Enruned Dagger (which allows him to cast spells while holding two swords)
He draws his swords and grins widely
Anzor teleports up to take a look and then teleports again to return to his seat

Anzor perception (to see who/what lay ahead): [roll1]

[grumblyarcher]

The man from Alkenstar watched the others make their preparations with interest. It seemed they would never be short on bravado here. Made sense, you get enough toughs in one place at the same time and they would put on strong faces, if not for each other, then for themselves. He had to wonder just how much of it was for show.

The familiar stink of magic lurked in the wagon as various abilities were manifested around him. It made his chest feel tight with instinctual worry about unintended consequences but they were not back home and he had to remember that. Even after these years away, the reflexive discomfort was still as strong as ever.

With his revolver in hand, he eased past Father Sipel and up onto the somewhat crowded driver's seat to stand between the two young clerics. It would be best to let the souls still intent on charging into battle with plate and swords handle the first enemies to try and swarm them. That would save him the trouble of dodging any grasping claws or lashing tentacles.

Bracing himself against the lip of the wagon's top, he scanned for targets. The others may treat this as yet another lovely and violent jaunt but he would rather not suffer an inglorious end as the meal of a half-rotted farmer. Priority was given to keeping the wagon from getting dragged down by the swarm.

Move to front of wagon, ready weapon
[roll0]

[Desril]

Desril

At the sight of the giant raven, the half-fiend grasps the hilt of his sword but makes no further movements until it vanishes. When it does, however, he springs into action, casting a flurry of spells and drawing upon his personal reservoir of power. Seems like we have a few minutes...I should be able to strengthen a few of the people here, but there are too many to get them all.


oooh boy, indefinite buff time...let's see;

Void Reservoir 4/6
Arcane Reservoir 3/4

Round 1:
Void Travel: Blink (Extended Persistent) - 48 hours (-2 VR)
VR 2/6

Round 2:
Power of Opposition: Empowered Frigid Touch (Cooldown [roll0] rounds) + Fireball (Cooldown [roll1] rounds) (+3 VR)
VR 5/6

Round 3:
Void Reservoir: +1 Keen (Extended Persistent) - 48 hours (-2 VR)
VR 3/6
Ascendant Empowered Extended Persistent False Life [roll2] temporary HP - 48 hours (Cooldown 1 hour)

Round 4:
Target: Yasha - Ascendant Empowered Extended Protection from Evil - 12 minutes (Cooldown 5 minutes)

Round 5:
Ascendant Empowered Extended Mirror Image [roll3] + [roll4] images - 12 minutes (Cooldown 30 minutes)

Round 6:
(AR: +1 CL) Extended Greater Shield - Metaphysical Metamagic (-2 Wis, +Persistent) - 48 hours (Cooldown [roll5] 30 minutes)
AR 2/4

Round 7:
Target: Yasha - Extended Heroism - Metaphysical Metamagic (-2 Wis, +Persistent) - 2 hours (Cooldown [roll6])

Round 8:
Extended Persistent See Invisibility - 48 hours (Cooldown 4 hours)

Round 9:
Life Sphere: Restore on self until I beat the DC 20 CL check to heal the 4 points of Wis damage. Ignore all results after the first 20+ is obtained.
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]
[roll10]
[roll11]
[roll12]
[roll13]
Spell Points 13/14


.....if we have more than 5 minutes to buff, I also target myself with Protection from Evil.

So, ultimately, my buffs come up to....

50% miss chance + walk through walls for 2 days
Weapon has additional +1 Keen and can use Int instead of Str for Atk/Dmg for 2 days
32 temporary HP for 2 days
8 Mirror Images for 12 minutes
+6 Shield bonus to AC and immunity to Magic Missile for 2 days

Yasha gains the benefits of Mythic Protection from Evil for 12 minutes and Mythic Heroism for 2 hours

[darklink_shadow]

Prime whistled and climbed aboard Ridley. After doing so, he noticed the disappearance and reappearance of one of the men. Ohh, teleporting! Fuuuuun! I want to go! Can you teleport us too? Into the sky!

[OzzyKP]

Seeing as they had a bit of time yet, he decided to entertain the request.

"How high?" Anzor asked, "And you want to make a one-way trip or come back here?"

[darklink_shadow]

Prime's eyes widen and his face grows a grin too large for anything non-fey to hope to emulate. "Super, super high! And we'll fly back down! Oh boy! Hehehehe!"

Practically vibrating with giddy enthusiasm, Prime utterly destroys the serious vibe of the caravan. His joy is infectious, and the great cat Zizi began to rumble with a deep, melodic purr. Ridley tilts her head and chirps merrily as well.

"And then we'll come back and stomp on all the bad guys! And save the day! And be heroes! Right, Annabelle?"

The motherly outsider nodded with a content smile, happy to see her charge happy. Despite the war, despite the death, and despite the danger, Prime was always enjoying life. She was the part of his mind, torn away long ago, that had to be serious. She knew the dangers, but didn't care right now, at this moment.

[Mornings]

The Gathering
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:14 AM

Anzor could see far out as he teleported and came back down within the wagon, but only moderately further than the others still inside. - it was the nimble mouse Gannon which had caught note of the strange events unfolding first. Unlike the nimble mouse, Anzor and the others could only see the black storm of miasma descend upon the city gate in the distance.

The screams of the cultists who fought with the valorous guardsmen and the defenders of the city all cried out in a deafening chorus in the distance. Gannon had saw the pestilence creep far out and seep into the earth as the black storming cloud descended upon the embattled sides. The undead, the living, the defenders and attackers alike, could be seen scattering... clawing wildly at their own skin and faces as their flesh bubbled and boiled, exploding into terrible gushing wounds. Their eyes begun to liquefy in their own skulls. The undead horde that had been rallied rotted and crumbled into heaps of disintegrating flesh.

But they could all see the errie specter far ahead. A shadowy raven flew through the storm and with each fallen victim, though difficult to distinguish, an orb of light was ripped from the fallen corpse and trailed after the bird, like a harvester of souls - Gannon stopped abruptly as the earth before him begun to decay and become a putrid pool of hissing slag, as if made into molten asphalt.

Waster watched as the strange bird took back to the skies - with the black cloud and the hundreds of souls-lights racing after its form. But from the miasma a darkness was left that creeped in the distance like a magical mist or scourge left upon the very air where the pestilent encounter had occurred. Father Sipel, shoved himself half into the driver's seat pulling back on the reins to try and bring the horses to a halt. But even still, before, the wagon hit the patch of decaying earth, he could see the silhouette in the distance, a massive hand reach up from the earth, clawed and cloaked in a strange breeze masked by the shroud of darkness that cloaked the city ahead.

The horses, could not stop in time, as the taint quickly surged through the earth, turning the once-solid stone of the ground, into a thick pool of decay and sludge. The axles of the wagon snapped, the wheels collapsed throwing the whole of the vehicle into a deathly spin, end-over-end.. and the brave hero's were cast out into the cold rain and thick swamp like slag of the ground.
*************


The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM


Reflex Save: DC20 The sudden destruction and headlong spin of the wagon has caught some of the hero's unprepared. Some of the hero's were able to react quickly enough to shield themselves or leap from the wagon preventing minor injury as the vehicle was destroyed as it smashed into the swamp like decay of the sludge-like ground. - Rolls for primary characters counted as currently in-game (dictated by if they have been active as of yet) will be listed. For cohorts, or side characters - please make your own saves. Failure: 1d4+1 Bludgeoning Damage

Desril Tu'athal (+15) [roll0] - Damage [roll1]
Kravor Alexei (+10) [roll2] - Damage [roll3]
Payton/Prime (+9) [roll4] - Damage [roll5]
Waster (+15) [roll6] - Damage [roll7]
Anzor Swiftsilver (+17) [roll8] - Damage [roll9]
Miles (+13) [roll10] - Damage [roll11]


The rain pattered down from a sullen sky. Grey, grey and bleak, the light of the sun obscured by the cold clouds above. The hero's lay scattered about in the thick sludge, as the rain came to greet them. The sudden impact and destruction - the scene of the terrible blight that struck The East Gate, the memories quickly returned. The debris of the wagon and its contents lay scattered about, sinking in the thick mud-like sludge, as where they. The ground had been turned into some thick, waist-deep bubbling green and brown slag. It was terrible thick, and restricted movement upon the ground to a snail's pace. It slightly burned the skin, as if it was caustic to some minor degree with prolonged exposure. It took a short while to gather their bearings. The horses and one of the clerics were dead, crushed by the flipping wagon. Father Sipel could be seen pulling himself up from the muck using his filth-covered sword as a crutch. He was the first to rise, wiping the filth from his blade with his robes, and looking about at the devastation. " Is everyone alright!? " he turned about seeing the crushed remains of his man sink into the slag. " HANIS!" He tried to trudge through the earthen goo, dragging his body as if moving through liquid cement, a trail left in his wake as he tried to pull himself over to the dead cleric who had already sunken into the liquid earth.... He beat a fist on the side of one half of the flipped wagon which had been torn in two.

" If you're not dead, on your feet! - That was a servant of The Messengers, a Messenger of Plague... or some other affront to life and the gods. This is not the first time I've seen such work. This is a ploy, a distraction to slow and mislead us. We must press on, before whatever they are planning has a chance to come to fruition! A distraction like this is no minor thing, and requires a vast amount of energy and resources. They even killed those of The Black Circle who were embattled to curb their loss after this charade. We must strike now, while they are weakest. But they've impeded our ability to move together from the ground. Leaving us with few choices, divide our numbers, no doubt - a trap. Or loosing precious time to create a solution to retain our numbers. "

From the sides of the road, skeletal hands begun to rise and claw their way out, brandishing rusted blades and weapons in poor repair. Father Sipel cringed as the muck, roiled on either side of the road as the creatures attempted to rise from the slag. " Fodder! This is but another distraction. Leave me and go on ahead. I'll deal with these. You must stop whatever it is The Messengers have plotted. We cannot afford to loose time here! "


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage


Father Sipel has told the group of what is at risk, and the true intentions behind this spectacle and the encounter quickly developing in front of them as nothing more then a clever disguise designed to delay them even further, or divide their numbers. The Warpriest has volunteered to stay behind and fight back the rising undead while the rest of them push forward to stop the plot by The Messengers.

Now each individual must decide if they will stay and fight the rising creatures, or if they will heed Father Sipel's words and ignore the distraction and leave the fight in his hands while pushing forward to the gates of Magnimar and leaving the old priest behind.

(Characters have enough time to rise from the ground and decide to fight (Roll initiative) - Or press forward)

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor isn't entirely sure whether the warpriest will be able to handle the undead, but even so, sacrifices must sometimes be made, and thus simply says in a grim tone "May your god be with you." before starting to make his way towards Magnimar.

[The Grue]

Miles

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Miles decided to heed the old man's advice and began wading through the fetid muck towards the city.

[darklink_shadow]

Eewww! Prime said with disdain and disgust. Stupid gunk. It's all sticky and gross.

With only some effort, he climbed back aboard his avian companion. Alpha, Zizi, go to the city with the other people on foot. Omegas, I won't be needing your services any more. The rest of you, keep the old man safe. I'll keep in contact... Gannon, not you. You just try to keep safe. Ridley, fly fast! We're scouting out ahead. I'll rely what I find to Alpha, and she will tell the rest of you stuck back here.

Taking wing, Ridley set off, circling overhead of the group moving in towards the city, keeping within range of the Omegas, which disintegrated if they got too far from Prime.


[roll0] vs 20 or [roll1] damage
[roll2] vs 20 or [roll3] damage
[roll4] vs 20 or [roll5] damage
[roll6] vs 20 or [roll7] damage
[roll8] vs 20 or [roll9] damage
[roll10] vs 20 or [roll11] damage
[roll12] vs 20 or [roll13] damage




The Omegas will pop as soon as I get too far from him.
Alpha will go with the people stuck on foot as she is, and act as a rely of intel that the scouting team, consisting of Prime and Ridley. Zizi will stay with Alpha.

The twins, Betty and Daryl will start attacking anything they can, with ranged volleys of magic. Gannon will just try to keep up with the party, and avoid any and all combat.

Base move of 80ft, letting him move 240ft if he sprints. Which he will do, letting then scout out where the party should go.

I'm sure Anzor, Mr. Teleports, can move the ground troops quickly enough, though. But he'll need to know where to go, right?

[grumblyarcher]

The crash was horrendous, it was only through luck that the stranger had the opportunity to dive from the driver's bench and into the caustic muck. Forcing himself to his feet, he hauled his revolver up out of the sludge, the weapon strangely clean despite the current circumstances. Quite promptly, he trained his armament on the nearest movement, which turned out to be one of the summoned companions of the tiny man. To his credit, he turned the weapon elsewhere as soon as the skeletal hands began appearing.

The Waster considered the options for a moment, but surprisingly refused either course of action. "All due respect Father, but that's a piss choice for you," He growled, looking to the animated dead clawing their way free and to the others already picking their way through the muck.

"Damn, damn, damn," he muttered and with clear reluctance began pulling away, "I'm coming back for you! I ain't letting you to die out here!" He called back. The others may have been content to let the old man make his sacrifice but, for whatever reason, the stranger was not.

[OzzyKP]

For a teleporter, any difficult terrain is a minor issue barely worth noticing, Anzor was unfazed. He preferred working alone (or just with his brother) but he could keep a level head and take charge when needed.

"I can take two with me, we'll get out of this muck in no time."

Looking around at the companions all struggling to stand up in the quagmire he quickly assessed who would be best to take first.

"Hey you, big guy! With that enormous suit of armor you are gonna sink like an anchor, you're coming with me. And you," he gestured to the gunfighter, "shifty-eyes, you get to take the first trip. I hope you both have strong stomachs and strong grips, it is gonna be a bumpy ride, don't drop anything."

Then finally he said to Fargo, "Hold down the fort and help these folks stay alive till I get back, shouldn't be more than a minute or two."

Unless Kravor or the stranger object, Anzor sheathes his swords, grabs them both by the belt and the three of them all disappear, reappearing a ways off in the sky. Anzor's method of travel isn't terribly smooth, he basically appears in the sky, free falls for 6 seconds, and teleports again further away to repeat the process. The process of blinking in and out of places and constant free-fall can be a bit much for those with a delicate constitution, but he hoped these rough and experienced swords of the regalia can handle it. It takes a little less than a minute to reach the edge of the muck and get to the city. He scopes out the situation before he touches down.

[Desril]

Desril

Having avoided the muck entirely by using his wings to stay aloft above it, a swift headcount makes finding the proper solution troublesome. Quickly analyzing the situation, he swears silently to himself before Anzor made use of the self-same ability that the half-fiend was about to employ. The difference being, where he can take people with him, I can leave a door for them to follow through, but not everyone...if he can get himself and two more...we can do this!

"Ignore that, nobody is staying here! Those of you who can fly or teleport, get to the city, now! The rest of you, I'm going to open a series of portals, you'll be able to see them, but they're one way and they'll only stay open for a few seconds! Go through them, follow me, and we'll all be at our destination in less than 2 minutes!"

True to his word, he faced toward the city and, after a moment of concentration, opened the first portal, vanishing and reappearing in the distance.


Power of Opposition - Prot from Evil and Infernal Healing (Cooldown 5m each) +3 VR
VR 6/6

Void Travel: Ascendent Dimension Door (-2 VR)
VR 4/6

Mythic Dimension Door opens a 1 way portal from my start point to my end point (640ft) for 3 rounds visible and usable only to those I indicate (the rest of the party and NPCs that aren't able to fly or teleport or being teleported by Ozzy).

I'll open another one next round (1280ft) and the round after (1920ft)

Then I'll need 2 rounds to recharge. Assuming we don't all die in those 2 rounds, I'm good to move 3 more times (2560, 3200, 3840), then repeat the process one last time if necessary.

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor simply nods and allows himself to be taken ahead to the city. "A tactically sound decision" he comments, and as they keep falling, he just chuckles, saying: "Reminds me of courage training back at Cheliax."

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage


The Hero's, finding other options opt to use their various powers and abilities to attempt to scramble from the ambush as quickly as possible, leaving no man-behind. Father Sipel, seeing the enemy rise to meet him offers no complaint as he decides to move forward with the group as does the recovering cleric.

The terrible skeletal creatures rose from the ground, many were simple skeletons of no major concern. One rose up beneath the old-priest. He retorted with a swift boot to the creature's skull and a spinning back-hand with his massive yet dulled blade crushing through another creature that advanced upon him.

His eyes begun to widen in horror as terrible creatures begun to rise forth from the ground, small spheres of elemental negative energy struck the ground and gathered. Creatures with decaying taught grey skin, branded with hundreds of profane arcane symbols lashed out as they were pulled from the ground by some unseen force. As the group behind him turned to depart through air and magic, he turned about, grabbing his cleric and throwing him through the portal. A half dozen of the simple skeletal creatures rambled forth. Taking advantage of the reach of his weapon, the priest snapped out a sharp thrust, and a hammering underhanded strike taking advantage of the openings left as the fragile undead beasts advanced upon him. He turned and pushed the others through, "Go! Go! Go! We've been had! they are herding us towards the gate! But we cannot stay here! Beware the void-touched undead! " - a terrible palpable aura emminated outwards from the gaunt-and-branded creatures.

After the last of them had departed, the old priest tossed himself into a sidelong tumble through the dimensional door.

The Long March: Round 0
On the otherside, the group of them gathered together, the slower of the group which had been carried in the air was strangely already caught up with them. Father Sipel glanced around, a blue mist and darkness shrouded them. "Be on guard! We have played into their hands. We should enter the city through another gate... but we've no time. It is likely they will make us pay for each step forward to delay us... Still, I am thankful for your aid. I have not seen undead that strong in many years, I would have fallen battle such creatures." - a stranger's voice interrupted the priest. "Heh, well you're right on more then one account old-man... For whatever reason, you've seemed to have drawn the ire of Vephar, Sister of Death. Bad move gramps. You probably should have kept out of town, and your nose out of other people's business..." - Father Sipel, dragged himself forward a step. There was no sight of the world about them. It was as if time had been suspended and a demi-plane of sorts had replaced it. openings left as the fragile undead beasts advanced upon him. He turned and pushed the others through, "You....YOU! You are a Servant of The Messengers! " He raised up his sword threateningly. The man stepped back and raised up his hands, a sharp snap and a series of gears paused, levitating in hand. " Whoa! Whoa! Ease there gramps! This isn't 'the glory days'. I'm not your enemy. Hell, I'm here to help! Things aren't so black-and-white anymore. The Masters... or, what you plebeians call 'The Messengers', aren't what they were. The whole... 'organization' and 'coven' crap, from like... I don't know. A century ago? Yeah, that's gone. Dead and buried. The Masters never went anywhere either. The simple fact is, they all have their own reasons for doing things, and we humble Servants, are loyal to our Patron. Not some genocidal mission or whatever they were into back in the day..." He lowered his hands, the gears of light turned in his hands, it was evidently some variation of time magic with a realm of control and potency not seen before. "I'll keep it simple, you can skip the introductions. I know who you all are. I am Venril of The Hands, Servant of Baël - Lord of Masters. At my Master's request. I'm here to well.... keep you sorry lot alive. I don't know what you did to piss off Master Vephar, but she's assembled quite the welcoming party. Chances are... well. You Might die. But there's good news! -I'm here to keep you alive. Well, mostly. I left an old toy in The Triodea Theater in the city, but it's not active yet. However, If you happen to get your head ripped off - I'll reconstruct your fleshy little bodies and get you back out in the fight. Don't get me wrong though. Yeah, Master asked me to support you. So the first one is on the house. But after that, i'll be putting the medical bill on your tab. As much as I enjoy all of your faces though... I'd prefer to, never see you again. No offence."

"Now that we got the first matter of bussiness out of the way, some important bits. Gramps, you and your mooks are not on the 'aid' list. If you get shredded - not my problem. But these goons can pay the bill if they feel generous enough to try and bring you back. Though, i don't see why they'd go out of their way. No offence. - Also... Juuuust, something to keep in mind. Which is probably why your group is high on the hit list... for some reason, the vast majority of Regalia have become Servants.... good or bad, I have no idea. The Master says most of them are probably cursed... enchanted or otherwise being manipulated. Which, would require a great deal of mastery in manipulation - which makes your most likely canidates Master Ronove... good luck, or Master Valefor... which would be remarkably fortunate, as she's perhaps the most neutral of The Masters. In either case. For those suffering from simple curses. Just defeat them, and they should be normal again... You'll need the assistance if you plan on gathering The Great Kings, which for whatever reason, my Master supports... Well, that's all I have, unless you have a quick question, before I watch Vephar decorate the grass with you." - Father Sipel's gaze darted back and forth trying to digest everything that had been thrown at him. " ...Baël? ...Baal? Are you implying The Messengers are some kind of personification of Archdemons or Demon Lords? I can't accept your words at face value. There is evidently more to this 'plot' then you let on - but for now, we will not be distracted by you, or any other creature. We've a mission, and I intend to see it through." - the strange man, Venril shrugged. " You do what you have to gramps. But this is me, giving you a last-second breather. Right now, the only thing separating you - and all hell reigning down on you, is... this." He flipped one of the golden gears of light. " Master Vephar is not playing around with you and your little merry-band. She intends to break, or kill as many of you as possible, and as a 'Messenger' gifted in curses, hexes, desecration and necromancy of the highest quality. I wouldn't be so eager to rush out to the gate. She's already assembled quite the welcoming party, and that's after she's finished roughing you up along the way. Sure, you'll probably be able to just break through, but I wonder how much of a beating you'll take. But.. I'm not unreasonable."

He looked at the group behind the priest. " None of you are stupid, I think. Rushing the gate, is probably not the best idea, if you want to keep everyone in one piece. Vephar, isn't going to give up hunting you down readily. But if perhaps... you were to extend the 'olive branch' - maybe she would be so inclined to ease off you. If perhaps, you were to... trade gramps off. Maybe she'd let you off the hook. I'm pretty sure he's the reason why she's so vexed anyways. It's... not a pleasant thought, I know. But she may not 'kill' the old-coot, and he was ready to stay behind to let you escape. It's just a thought."


The Hero's have met the Servant Venril who has been charged with resurrecting the hero's should they fall in battle by his master. A Messenger. While his aid is not completely free, or unconditional, he now provides a service to PCs should they fall in battle.

Venril suggests that the traps and onslaught that has been laid out ahead of them, while not beyond their abilities to manage, will be dreadfully costly to the group as a whole, and instead offers an alternate solution. Trading Father Sipel to The Messenger, Vephar in exchange ending the em-battlement between them. He is quite certain that for whatever reason, her ire is directed at the priest, but can his words be trusted?

Players must decide how they will deal with Venril's offer. Will they brave the forces to come, or trade the priest for an end to the rising scourge which may in turn secure the safety of Magnimar from the new immensely powerful creatures The Messenger has conjured forth.

(Players are currently in an small zone of suspended time which will only last until Venril simply leaves or dismisses the effected area at will)




Venril of The Hands, Servant of Baël
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/Venril%20of%20The%20Hands%20-%20Copy_zpsomybiwuf.jpg

[The Grue]

Miles

"Hate to say it, but the well-dressed gentleman has a point."

" I don't mean to sound ungrateful, good Father," Miles tipped his hat to the elderly warpriest. "We're all in your debt for bringing us this far. But, like the man said, you were prepared to sacrifice yourself to buy us a few seconds from those undead nasties. Are you still prepared, knowing that your sacrifice could mean blanket amnesty for us? Seems like a no-brainer."

"Speaking of no brainers, Venril was it? Your master wants you to help us in so far as packing us back in if we should shuffle off. Why stop there? You're clearly capable of some impressive feats." Miles waved his hand, indicating the bubble of arrested time they currently occupied. "Your master's agenda seems to align with ours. Why does he need us if he has talented servants such as yourself?"

With a Knowledge: Religion bonus of +9, what does Miles happen to know about Bael?

[darklink_shadow]

The tiny man frowned at Miles, and at the handsome man with the pretty gears. No, no, Mr. Venril. We won't be sacrificing the priest here. That doesn't make much sense, really, does it? If what you say is true, he's worth more than that. If what you say is false, he's more useful fighting beside us.

Prime urged Ridley up into the air again, and he flew slow circles before perching on the priest's head. Those are some pretty gears. Really neat! You know what though? I bet they are useful too. Pretty and useful. I bet if you helped us, Vephar would get mad at you, huh? Hehehe, but you're not a coward. I can tell by your smirk. You like fun? Let's have some fun! Smash traps and kaboom bad guys. And whoosh whoom kapew badooooomph! Pewpewpewpewp BOOOOOOMSSHHHHHH! That sort of thing, you know?

With tiny eyes, he stared up at Venril. Wanna play too? It'll be fun.


[roll0] Diplomacy!

[grumblyarcher]

"Politics," the stranger said, regarding the Servant before them with cold calculation. He retrieved a miraculously clean cigarillo from somewhere inside of his duster and lit it with a sulfurous match. He took a moment to draw the smoke into his mouth and let it hiss out between his teeth before continuing. "A direct move would tip their careful maneuvering into chaotic infighting. We're deniable, expendable."

The creature wearing a human mask had already taken a position of power and was keeping them unbalanced. It was not just wise to consider ulterior motives, it was standard operating procedure. "Remove the only one of our number experienced in dealing with this lot, make us easier to control. Ain't that right?" There was nothing in the way of reverence or awe, no respect or even hatred in the voice of the gunfighter. He spoke to Venril like the creature was some low level lackey of a slumlord and not the servant of ancient and implacable evils. It might be the most powerful lackey the gunfighter had ever met but at the end of the day, a lackey was a lackey.

He fixed Miles with his cold eyes next. "I like the Father more than I like you. Might want to consider other options before voting in favor of sacrifices." Another puff on the cigarillo. "We find another way into the city. If the Rotter could block every option, she wouldn't need to bait us toward the gate."

[darklink_shadow]

Prime looked at the stranger with a sort of awe. Ooo... Scary! Maybe clever too! Say, say, Mister. How are we gonna get into the city then? More portals? Teleporting? Gannon can go look around! He's real good at it! Say, say! Hey! What is that thing you are eating? Smells like pipeweed! But different! It smells awefuller! Like horrible things! Neat!

[Desril]

Desril

Glancing to Miles, the half-succubus shakes his head, "We're not leaving anyone behind, and we're definitely not sacrificing anyone to buy us safe passage."

At Prime's question though, he looks toward the walls. "It would be possible to go around and try another entrance. It might take another minute or so, but we could get around, and walls aren't going to get in my way...the question is just figuring out where it'd be best to go in at," he says flatly, turning his gaze to Venril.

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo

Anzor's eyes turned to slits as he heard Venril's offer. And then widened at Miles' willingness to accept it. He studied both men for a moment, but didn't like what he saw. He looked over to Fargo, the expression on his face told him that he saw the same thing. Miles was evil. What was an evil man doing in their midst? A spy or saboteur?

"We will not be sacrificing Father Sipel - or anyone," Anzor said flatly, "Sipel is the reason we are here."

"And who are you anyhow," he said, talking to Miles, "what is an evil man like yourself doing here, among the sword regalia?"

He put his hands on his sword hilts dangling from his belt, ready for anything.

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

The Long March: Round 0
The priest paused at Mile's words, "My resolve remains unchanged, if it would grant you or this city amnesty I would gladly become the martyr. However... if my actions have proven to be so, disruptive, to our enemy. I cannot help but think perhaps... they are fearful, not of my sword-arm, but my insight. Blind the enemy, and he is no more then a beast that cannot see his cage. I suspect unfortunately, that this man's words are true. You and the people, would be granted such sanctuary, for you would no longer be viewed as a threat to whatever plots are being fabricated by the enemy. " The well-dressed mystery-man shrugged. "Honestly, I couldn't really say. I don't work for Vephar, but even as the Masters go. She is cunning, cruel, and calculating - not to mention more zealous the most. Unfortunately, I have not been granted permission to assist you directly. That would no doubt violate my Master's 'terms' with the others... and this little 'trade-bit' is completely off-the-record, this is just me taking some liberties as a 'middle-man' of sorts. A neutral party third-party. My Master doesn't directly intervene in the matters of the others directly - there is quite the number of political tug-of-war behind the scenes, and to maintain her position above the others, she cannot be seen directly lending her aid to those... more 'unfavorable' beneficiaries. - but that's why you have chaps like me! I'm what you call .. a 'Rogue Servant'. I'm not actually 'bound' to my master. I've been 'employed', and intend to fill my contact to the full extent of my ability. I really, don't feel any which-way personally about this whole ordeal, but my Master's concerns are my concerns. So, I'm here to help. Rather simple really. If you want me to patch up someone not on the 'help list' like the geezer, or his cronies - you can pay for such services from my own men in the city. They'll patch you up, or sew you back together."

"At the end of the day, I'm a.... 'man', of business, and I take my contracts very seriously. You could very well, just let gramps go. If he gets torn to bits, you could pay me to put him back together again. This is obviously very self-serving, but I have to do a little self-marketing on the side too, don't I? Heh. In any case. I do suspect Vephar is more concerned with the knowledge and resources gramps tends to employ to guide you, not what he's brining to the fight. At least, that's the most logical explanation. He's hardly the warrior he was. No offence, gramps. - Also, I also don't like getting my hands dirty, personally, at least. I'm many things, but a fighter is not one of them."

" There is a number of ways to get 'into' the city. The problem is, do you go through by force, or travel through the walls? No doubt, you'll bring the fight into the city, endanger countless lives. Who can imagine the collateral damage. Do you walk into an obvious trap? No doubt targeting gramps, rather then focusing on you lot. Not many things can kill off a Regalia except a Master, another Regalia, a Servant that is a Regalia, or the few rare cases. The Shards of Dawn that grant the power you each carry, are easy to grab and throw back in your mangled bodies. It makes you troublesome for The Masters to deal with in simple direct confrontation. But if you're left without guidance, then you're no better then a cannon facing the wrong way. So, in my honest opinion, taking care of those around you with much to offer in insight and guidance should be your foremost concern in terms of 'assets'. From a business perspective."

" This might sound a tad... 'cold'. But I would probably recommend just storming the city and ignoring the route through the gate if keeping the old-man alive is your priority. The guards and civilians might make a good distraction while Vephar's little army is storming after you. It might give you enough time to secure a place, then finish off the enemy. - You could just attempt to find alternate solutions as well, but the question is if you have the time. I don't know what she has up her sleeve, but control and manipulation are Vephar's fields, not necessarily... fighting you directly. But, to be honest, it's unlikely she'd be working alone. She has tendencies to rally other Masters and 'interesting' individuals..."

" Regardless, it's in your hands how you want to handle things -" The priest interrupted sharply. " As it always has been! Regardless of your intentions. I think we've heard enough. Over-analyzing the situation and feeding these young ones all these excess considerations will only cloud their judgment." The priest looked to Anzor, " The Regalia of Dawn does not discriminate upon man or woman of any walk of life, or their moral compass little one. It is simply that which is inherited by those destined, and willing to fight the most." - Venril waved off the strange Halfling. " Common now, little-man. Weren't you just listening? I said you're all on the 'welcome back to life list', minus gramps - I really don't care if you go about killing each other, but that seems slightly counter-productive..."


He was familiar with some of the darker scriptures which were written of the great entity known as 'Baël', though many dark cults carried different names for the powerful being. Of the common ones, were Baal, Bahl, and the oldest of the recorded dialects; Baël. Cultists and practitioners of the darker arts in certain circles claimed he was an Archdemon who had ascended from the deep pits of the Abyss, gathering enough power to silently ascend to godhood, creating his own plane where he dwelled, whispering to his devote clerics and loyal followers, sharing his dark magics with those who would raise the sword in his name, and offer blood tribute to the 'God of Slaughter'. Said to be a great red towering demon-lord, who dwelt silently, unseen in a demi-plane of his own creation, he was called the 'King of Demons' amongst his loyalists, commanding vast armies of outsiders, and 62 legions of demons commanded by a number of great Dukes and Princes of both infernal and abyssal origin - Or so the books said.

However, he knew most of it, was little more then the writings of fanatics and maddened cultists. There was very few documents that truly validated the existence of such a creature having ever existed at all. However, he was familiar with one rare piece of literature, black holy text telling the story of a Dark Sister long before the War of Dawn, and The Black Gate's existence. A young girl - her story was shrouded in mystery, but it was a tale as dark as any, of revenge, of betrayal, of love lost. She had fallen into despair, rejected by the one she loved most. The record, while in extreme brevity, elaborated on how she eventually took the life of her love, removing one of his ribs and fashioning a knife, which she used in some lost and profane ritual - removing her own tongue after speaking his name a final time. Little else was known about this woman, this witch, who then vanished from all records. But it was many years later the dark cult which worshiped the creature known as Baël emerged. A coven of witches with some distant ties to the strange tale recorded. It was an enigma, a puzzle with pieces still missing, but he knew somewhere within the short pieces of the tales, the truth existed. It was the only validity he had found, that the mysterious demon existed at all, but now, seeing Father Sipel's acknowledgement, he was certain. The Archdemon named Baël was real.

[grumblyarcher]

Oddly, it was the stranger who spoke up for Miles even though he had slung an implied threat the man's way earlier."Same thing as the rest of us, boy," he said, stepping in between the two before the matter could escalate. "Take your hand off the pig-sticker."

In the short and rushed trip to this point, one thing had likely become obvious even if he had not boasted of his skills or actually had to employ them. The stranger could move fast. His reactions seemed impossibly quick for a human, if that was was indeed what he was. He fixed those cold amber eyes on Anzor for just a moment, then idly looked away.

He blew smoke from his mouth again and tapped some ash from the tip of his cigarillo. No one else seemed interested in solving this problem properly. "Still ain't no options I like there. We take the fight to her on our terms. Head into the city then handle the Rotter's forces from the high ground. The gate must have defenses, so we man those. Guard at our back, advantageous positioning, let 'em break against us. "

[The Grue]

Miles

"Alright, alright." Miles held his hands out, empty, where the halfling could see them. "No need to draw weapons, we're just talking here. Obviously my opinion is in the minority..."

"...But then, it's not our decision to make, is it? It's Father Sipel's."

[OzzyKP]

Anzor and Fargo

Anzor smirks at this gunslinger's attempts to make peace and pretend he is a threat. Anzor relaxes his posture though. It was an idle threat anyhow, if he truly meant harm to someone in the room they'd be running red before they had a chance to notice Anzor reach for his weapon.

"Considering how even the demon servant thinks it would help the enemy to turn over Father Sipel, it isn't unreasonable to question the motives of the evil one in our midst trying to aid our foe."

He had no interest in discussing this further, but would certainly keep his eyes on this Miles fellow in the future.

"As for our strategy, I'm in favor of just attacking them head on. If we can identify their leaders we take them down first and the rest will follow."

[Desril]

Desril

Getting rather irritated and tired with this supposed moral dilemma, the half-fiend sighs and quickly begins to cast a spell, hitting the Father with it just as he vanishes from sight and he turns toward Anzor. "This will last about 12 minutes. You're even faster than I am at teleporting around since you don't have to stop to recharge your power. Grab the Father and anyone who isn't willing to fight, and get them inside the walls, somewhere safe, a citadel or stronghold or whatever's left standing that can defend itself."

Turning to the others, he scowls, "I'm not going to let a trap this obvious beat me, but I'm also not going to let them overrun this city. I'm going to hit the front gate, hard. Whoever wants to join me is welcome to, but I can't promise I can protect you all."


Cast Extended Invisibility on Father Sipel

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo

Anzor nods at the suggestion, "Yes, spring the trap and I'll get Sipel to safety. I'm ready when you all are."

[The Grue]

Miles

"I'd like to go with you, if I may," says Miles. "It's a matter of professional pride that I don't charge head-first into traps, but there might be a way I can render aid from inside the walls. Besides, I'm sure you'd prefer to keep me where you can see me."

[Tuvarkz]

"I'll charge in first if you don't mind. I'll show them why not even demons should treat the Chelish Inquisition lightly." Looking at Venril, he just comments: "I don't care about whatever inner conflicts the demonic hierarchy may have, but I'll accept help even if it comes from our enemies."
((OoC: Kravor has a +8 in K:Religion, up to +12 when it comes for identification purposes. Taking 10, do I get any particular info on the situation?))

[darklink_shadow]

The tiny fey man seems to have lost interest in the conversation, and is picking at dirt on his shirt. Clearly annoyed and bored, he looks up. I came here to fight bad guys and become a hero. Can we do that now, or are we going to step forever in a time bubble talking about boring things? Let's go PEWPEW KABOOM all of the bad guys. We can kill Miles later. Or even the priest. Whatever, let's just go PEW PEW BANG BANG WHOOSH! Or drink giddy juice. Whichever.

[Tuvarkz]

The inquisitor simply looks at the tiny fey man, and says: "It seems I have a fellow volunteer to charge in first."

[OzzyKP]

"I would charge in alongside you, comrade if I weren't otherwise occupied with shuttling valuble assets and those afraid of battle to safer locations. I will join the fight as soon as I am able, don't kill them all before I get back!"

Grabbing his younger brothers shoulder he continues, "And keep and eye out for my brother. He is a stout and coureageous fighter, but these creatures may be more than he can handle. He will prove himself a useful and worthy supporter in the battle to come."

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

The Long March: Round 0
The priest lifted up his hands, gazing down at the magic's that now surrounded him. He could not show it, but the smirk on his face said it all. Impressed with the young hero's resourcefulness and quick wit he couldn't offer any complaint to the suggested plan, though something still felt out of place.
" I must say, I do find this plan far more preferable then any of the aforementioned. However, something still does not sit right with me... I have fought with Vephar many times in years past, as both a common soldier, and commander, yet never have I warranted such attention from her, or any of The Dark Sisters for that matter. However, what the experience has taught me is that Vephar is never so direct. A master of cunning, guile and trickery - I have never before seen one of her traps executed from a position which it was already evident. After all, in order to create a 'trap' one must first create the appearance of normality or produce some event to effectively draw away the eye from that which is important... This should be no different. But, I cannot see it. Nothing within this scene before us matches the Vephar that I know. Nor has she ever been so, indiscriminate in her methods. Precision and calculated death are her tools... I cannot say I truly believe you, Servant. A Messenger plots against us, without doubt, but there is more to what I can make out to this. Have you anything more to share? Or are we done here... You've withheld us long enough, and suspended time or not, I've no intention of rotting away in this place." Venril sighed, his shoulders visibly dropping as he glanced about to the side of the group, as if looking at something flanking the side of the group.


Group Perception Vs (??? -PC)
Auto-Fail: Epic Level Stealth (Base DC150): (Phage Cells)
Detectable Alignment: None: (Unchained)
Detectable Magic: [Temp] None: (Phage Cells/Fabrication)


The well dressed 'Rogue Servant', slid out a golden pocket-watch from his black vest, pressing the top spin-dial and looking at it. A dim light of gold seemed to illuminate from the inside as if he checked the time of some golden glowing face of a time-piece. The Servant looked at the old priest with a somewhat uncomfortable look in his eye, like an employee being supervised while trying to work. " Yes... well. You're correct gramps. This is not Vephar's methods, which is why I mentioned she may have employed others into her service - hence the change of particulars that are so contrasting... Though what's more concerning is that it IS Vephar. Of that I can confirm. I've spoken to her personally already, and while I of course consider all her words no more then some complex weave to place the pieces where she would like them - she is involved in, whatever 'this' is. - As you know better then anyone, it is possible, that not only you, but I, have been misled as well. Perhaps this 'trap' is just the 'misleading hand' while she intends to strike elsewhere in another manner. I cannot say what it is she plans to do, or what makes you so special as to draw her attention. You're hardly as formidable as you once were..."

" Still, I do agree. I would like to get things moving along as well, and I would greatly enjoy watching how you contend with these fireworks about to burn up the place. It's not as if I'd prevented this little bout that's already begun. Only delayed it.... however. I don't want to offend my 'host'." He cleared his throat, looking sidelong at the same unoccupied space. " Ma'am, I know you've been keeping an eye on gramps and the kids, but I think I've delayed long enough. May I take my leave now, or have you some other business with me?"

As if some veil had been lifted, the group finally noticed what had been holding the Man of Time's attention for so long. It was as if they had not been there at all previously. But now there they stood. A pair of young women, clad in fine regal Victorian-finery, with corset-and-blouse. Their wear seemed to mirror one another, fine black corset's woven with fine threads of blackened gold into the textile fabrics, frilled sleeves that were lined with fine silver, and long skirts. They could have been the daughters of some high-lord of some far-away land, but such could not be true. The make of their cloths was strange, and foreign - as if they came not even from Golorion, but some other world far beyond, from another time.

One of the young woman appeared as no more then a young child, a porcelain-doll, doted upon with fine pale skin and a condescending smile upon her face, and an aloof gaze in her burgundy eyes. The eyes of a child that had been spoiled and pampered from birth. A child who had grown and living un-denied of even her slightest whims. A child, a princess, who no doubt would grow to become a cruel tyrant - who saw no wrong in breaking and stepping upon others to attain what she wanted. The familiar cold eyes of a sovereign who looked down upon those about her as the stones which she stepped upon. A right given to her, destined to be her's by some nameless god. She was the product of an age past, the scion of some place far away which recognized the gilded decay of The Divine Right of Kings. She was a noble, beyond any doubt - though a small noble what clung tightly to what could only be her sister.

She was taller, older, though perhaps only in her pre-teenage years of age. She stood a full foot above her sister, at 5'6'' tall. Her emerald eyes were soft and held a maternal kindness in them, a composed but warm smile on her face that did not seem out of place. She had evidently been trained rigorously in etiquette and other such lessons, standing with a straight back and impeccable posture. They both held a very frail yet, sublime grace, unnatural and alien - as if their very features and figure had been carved from some marble block by the hand of some deity of the arts and beauty. The long golden locks danced upon their brow and ended in eloquent curls.

Both of them appeared, inhuman - barely passable for human even at face-value. An slight aura of darkened-light emanated from both of them, as if the glow of the night-sky was constantly about them. They would have appeared delicate and defenseless if not for the large deep-brown leather holsters that hang on either sides of their waist. The leathers were carefully carved in hand tooled filigree patterns on leaves and feathers, which held a pair of massive 10inch long barreled, magazine-fed pistols made of some strange skymetal alloys.

The taller of the two sisters left side had a fine bright silver weapon engraved in wonderful detail with gentle filigree leaves. On her right side, she had a matching weapon to her sister's left. The younger sister carried similar weapons, except she had an ebon-black steeled weapon on her right side, with dark deep engravings of spirals like a series of voids that ran along her weapon, with a matching weapon similar to her sister's off-hand firearm on her other-side.

There was no aura of evil or good that emanated from either of the women, but after a short time, Anzor felt it. The sharp pang of some terrible darkness. It was some small object, a cursed bit of metal contained within the chamber of the black side-arm the small girl had holstered at her side. It took a short while, but he could feel the overwhelming dread, the intense oppressive aura contained within so small an object. Then it struck him, like a wave, as if whatever had shrouded its presence had been removed. Even unseen, the invisible wave of profane evil contained within washed over each of them. A putrid corruption so despicable, its very existence was a sin. Those who could detect the evil magic personally felt it grow and surge until their hands begun to shake, cold chills ran down their spine - then, like the hands of some fleshless undead corpse. The sensation of some unseen hands crept up from the grounds, pulling itself from the ground clawing up their legs, like some phantasmal undead phenomenon given shape from the very diabolical energies contained within whatever it was that the weapon held loaded and chambered within it's barrel. Something so dark, vile and wicked, using such a thing as a weapon was a crime against the very world and the living. An unspeakable crushing aura of necromancy and baneful magic that begun to wrack at the bodies of those sensitive - a force not even the demons of the abyss could consummate themselves. The detection magic abruptly ended - before the aura crushed them, threatening to slay the living for being within its very presence.


An object of absolute extreme evil was detected, Necromancy, Dark Speech, Vile Magic, Diabolism, Patron Domain: Insanity is identified - if the detecting PC passes (DC18) on either Knowledge Arcana/Religion/Planes. The aura detected is equivalent to a supremely evil entity of 21st Level - Detect Evil has been forcefully canceled protecting the user from adverse effects.

(Primary Magic Variation's: 3.0 Book of Vile Darkness)

The sensation subsided and the cold passed.... Still, there could be no mistake. Even those who could not sense magic felt the aura pass over them briefly. A terrible chill before it diminished and passed. Venril shook his head in dismay. " Alright, alright. Stop trying to scare the old man, you'll give him a heart attack. Now, my ladies, if you're finished. I'd like to get things moving a long." The priest shook in place, though the terror could not be seen imprinted on his face, as he was still made invisible by the magic's of the cunning half-fiend. " Who...What, is that?." Venril shrugged. " Another 'associate', and one of your Regalia actually. The girls do tend to stalk around quite a bit. You could use the extra 'muscle' anyways, seeing as how you'll be dividing your forces.... I'm really just waiting for the 'ok' to get on my way now... I've done all I've needed already."

The Sisters
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/%20Aseere%20-%20Copy_zpsfko23gbc.jpg



http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/usst-kimber-and-knife-15_zpsibdmcsps.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/z1%20-%20Copy_zps0ei2owks.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/z1%20-%20Copy%203_zps7bz4zd27.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/11994371_1157845677563988_1184079426_n_zpseuakbm9z .jpg

[iValkyrieX]

A'Seere

The twins step forward towards the man of time. Each drawing their signature weapons as to turn the tides of persuasion against him. Speaking in unison, they approach the man with a task in mind, grabbing on him and feeling his body while they speak with a seductive tone."Now now, there is no need to be so self-centered here Venril. We both know true and well that you can get almost anything in this world with no more than a kneeling request to your master. Why charge so much for a simple resurrection to these mere mortal creatures? I think that our little friends here can agree that you would charge FAR too much for any of them to afford right now. Let's make this a little more...fair...for their sake. I want you to drop the second charge as well, making the first two resurrections free. Seems fair to you doesn't it?" Releasing their grip and holstering their weapons once more, the twins turn to the group and speak out of turn. I am the older of the two of us and you may call me 'Light'. And i am 'Dark'. But our little friend here knows us by A'Seere." They turn to Venril and gave him a wave of a hand, releasing him once he has made his decision. "Please be on your way now. I'm sure we no longer need you here." They turn and look at the priest and wink....then they vanish as if never there.

[The Grue]

Miles

As the twins disappeared again, Miles stepped forward from the back row, clearly not amused. "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, ladies," he spoke in the direction he assumed they were, "but I haven't met you. These folks behind me I've traveled with for three weeks; we haven't said much, but I'm a pretty good judge of character and I think I have a pretty good handle in the sorts of people they are."

"You girls, I know nothing about. You are unknowns. I'm a thief; which among other things means I have a strong dislike of unknowns. So if you're going to keep up that invisibility trick, best not pop into view too close by as I tend to shank things that startle me. It's a reflex."

Miles kept advancing, until he was nose-to-nose with the Messenger before them."And as for you, mister Venril, you've done little else but toy with us from the moment you snatched us out of time. You've made you offer and we've thanked you for it, so unless you have anything else besides more contradictory advice I politely suggest you let us be on our way. I'm a patient man, but my patience is wearing thin."

[grumblyarcher]

The stranger gasped and doubled over, cigarillo falling from his mouth to the ground in a cascade of cinders, feeling a hideous throb in his chest. A shaky hand went to his own sidearm but so rattled was he that by the time he had it clear of the holster they were gone. He stared at the weapon, bewildered, before holstering it again.

"I use the weapon, the weapon does not use me," he murmured to himself, half mantra, half prayer, before standing up straight and regaining his composure. If he had been mildly annoyed by circumstances before, now he was angry. He suddenly loomed up behind Miles, the weight of his presence adding to the thief's words.

He did not bother to threaten or cajole the Servant but his stance on the issues was clear. He did not like being talked down to, he did not like being controlled, and he did not like being walked upon. These were all things that he had the displeasure of experiencing in the last few moments.

"Let's get to the bloody business."

[OzzyKP]

Anzor felt the evil they carried with them. More intense than any he felt before. His faith inured him from any fear, but he could see the reactions from Fargo and the others. This was an unspeakable evil in their midst. Who these twins were and what that item they carried was, Anzor did not know. He was also tired of being manipulated. If Father Sipel was supposed to explain and guide them, he wasn't doing a good enough job. But that is a matter for another time, now was time to save this city from the forces that assailed it.

Anzor moved toward where Father Sipel was standing and Miles, and said, "I agree, we need to get out of here and get to the task at hand. Father Sipel, Miles, grab onto my belt. We will go the instant we leave this place. Hold on tight, it will be a rough ride."

[Tuvarkz]

Impressed by the twins' diabolic might, Kravor remained looking at where they were until after they disappeared, almost kneeling at the two who were likely to be held in high regards by the Prince of Darkness.

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

The Long March: Round 0
The Hellknight sensed the dark energies clearly. It pulsated for a short-time filling his senses. His knowledge of the dark magics and profane arts of the wicked and heretical was studied enough to know well the danger and intensity such items contained. The taint of the one who had created such an item, had done so with great effort, and painful detail - yet also completing the ritual in 'Dark Speech' a tongue that had been long forgotten to most, if not all except for the patrons and hosts of the powerful tenants of Demon-Lords, scions of wickedness and cruelties not meant to be spoken or introduced into the material world. The aura of necromancy was of some astonishingly pure and refined death-magic. It was as if whatever had been crafted had been forged in a great and unholy ritual fabricating such an object of horrid design. He was confident, without a doubt, such magics could not be created by a single sole alone, nor without assistance from the great abyssal forces blessing. Though, it was but a single small fragment, a pea-sized fragment it was as though every ounce of many lives and energy had been spent to bring the strange item into existence. How many had been scarified, how many - if any, of those who had forged such an item still lived? - He imagined the answer was simply, none. The traces he felt, the curses ceaselessly carried by some maddened soul were imprinted upon it, the profanities of terrible sacrifices bound the energies once known as 'Diabolism' pulsated, then quietly vanished from his senses. It was likely some single forgotten unholy fragment that had been gifted, or unearthed from the pits of the Abyss itself. But what would such a presence of extreme evil do to the mind of one who carried it constantly?

The halfling, Anzor, while not familiar with the strange forms of new evil energy contained within whatever small fragment the young girl carried, knew it bore an extreme-impossibly strong aura of Necromancy and death-magics beyond his experience. An item of complete and utter evil, that no doubt could even be held in the hand of a soul that was yet untainted. He didn't need to understand all the energies he felt to understand whatever he had felt, was cut of the same genocidal-cloth as those creatures he sought to destroy.


~Krevor; Aware of the vast amount of ritual torture, sacrifice and many forms of magic that had been used to create the item, blessed by some great demonic entity or a direct representative. The use of bound souls, including that of the maker were used to create such an item, which is steeped in a deep aura of evil and the patron domain of Insanity followed by a small number of witches and cultists. The danger to the body and mind of possessing or carrying such an item is not lost on him, and he is aware, no 'good' creature would be capable of baring such an item.

~Anzor; Sensing the familiar aura of Necromancy, though in catastrophic excess, and the sheer volume of evil, mixed with foul energies which he had never before experienced, he had no doubt that a sinless creature could even carry such an item - nor desire to. Some form of death magic he was unfamiliar with holds his attention. Any creature who could or would carry such an item, was indeed evil by any and all regards.

Venril, visibly flinched at the sudden change of events. He tried to pull away from the unwelcome touching, obviously quite sensitive about his personal space, until the large guns were leveled to his face, one to his head, and another under his chin. "Now, now. You know that won't do... Ugh, but fine. Whatever. Two resurrections for your lot. I don't care, I would just like to leave now, my job is done. "

He pulled himself away from the two women as they vanished from sight again, seeing the business had seemingly come to a conclusion he took another glance at his watch then slid it back into his pocket. " I believe I speak for all of us when I say; I have no idea what the hell 'that' was supposed to be, but I have no intention of wasting my time dealing with that now. Your business is concluded, release us.. Servant." Venril lifted up his hands defensively, as if being ganged up on by the group of impatient warriors. " Easy, easy! I wasn't trying to pull a fast one - I just noticed you had another 'beneficiary' at the last moment. Didn't mean to hold you crazy lot up. Couldn't be sure who my unexpected 'guest' was... Anyways. I'm done here. Good luck, and all that... I'm done, and we're probably never going to meet again. But whatever the case, my end of the deal still stands. Two free-ones, and then you'll start getting the bill if you need to be put back together." She lazily turned about, facing away from the party beginning to walk away from them and into the dim light. " Later kids. have fun playing with all the fodder they throw around at you. It was a pleasure..... is what I would say." He stopped, looking back over his shoulder. "...But it really wasn't." He snapped his fingers. The orb of suspended time instantly vanished, as if a bubble had popped about them. The muck and oppressive goo of the molten earth came back to them, as they begun to sink where they stood, yet there was no sign of the strange women from before.

The Long March: Round 1
The world had resumed its pace. Time was normal once more, the dismal grey of the clouds and rain pattered against their cloths and faces. A crack of thunder in the sky crackled outward as the storm seemed to only prepare to intensify. As they regained their baring, a half dozen of skeletal hands ruptured forth from the ground beginning to pull themselves from the ground. Father Sipel clasped his hands together eagerly, seeing that time had been restored, ready for the battle to come. The quite normal skeletons begun to claw their way up from the ground, slowly increasing in the number of arms visible - yet there seemed to be nothing particularly special about these enemies, which struggled to crawl from the thick melted earthen pool.


Undead will emerge from the ground in 2 Rounds.


Perception DC15 (auto-pass)
The half-fiend quickly glanced around himself noticing in the air above a cultist, a mage of sorts flying above in the middle of some silent incantation preparing a spell to loose upon the group 60ft below. It did not require much thought to identify the man as an enemy. Looking further forward, he could make out a number of the cultists beginning to emerge from the darkness looming from the gate in the far distance.

(Desril has seen the mage hidden above the group, attempting to hide behind his magic while casting a spell. (May act in the surprise round)

Cultist Initiative: [roll0]
Desril Initiative: [roll1]


************************

[OzzyKP]

Anzor Swiftsilver

Since neither Miles nor Father Sipel had followed his instructions to hold on to him, Anzor grabbed onto both of them as best he could and then quickly looked for a destination. He looked up toward the city wall and found a nice, safe spot for his first jump. And then, in an instant, the three of them were gone.

[iValkyrieX]

Light & Dark

The twins move to the center of the group and start to prepare for combat. Two ravens appear with large orbs of light circling about and a third much larger than the other two. They stand back to back to each other as they prepare their spells.


Affects anyone within a 15ft range of the ravens.

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a morale bonus to saving throws against mind-affecting abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +1 bonus)

Raven's Cry 2&3 - Affected allies add energy damage of the candle’s active element’s associated energy type to their melee and ranged attacks, equal to her total class levels. (Current bonus +24 static electric dmg)

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a deflection bonus to their AC equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +1)

Raven's Cry 2 - Affected allies gain immunity to death effects, and gain a bonus on saving throws against psi-like abilities, psionic powers, spell-like abilities, spells, and supernatural abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to the knight-chandler’s Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +1)

Raven's Cry 3 - Affected allies gain a bonus on caster level checks, manifester level checks, and skill checks equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier.(Current +1)
Okay so these bonuses are based off illumination and the more things that die around me the more i get therefore also giving you more bonuses. Keep up the good work!

[grumblyarcher]

The stranger cursed as he sank back into the muck. He slogged toward the city as quickly as he could, muttering foulness under his breath. The presence of the twins and the perversions they wielded as weapons made his chest feel tight and ache but he ignored it as best he could.

"I wield the weapon, the weapon does not wield me," he murmured again, putting their weapons out of his mind and knowing it was the influence of his own revolver that pained him so. He did not draw, not yet. Instead he moved as much as he could toward the city. The skeletons were a distraction, they were nothing, shadows cast by lesser men who lacked the conviction to stand on their own.

When he had moved as far as he could before the skeletons finished extricating themselves he stopped. Glancing over the first row of foes between him and his goal, he picked his targets and brushed back the leather of his duster to reveal his holstered gun. Breathing in and out slowly, he closed his eyes and quelled the roiling mass of emotions inside of him as he had done so many times before.

Moving for both rounds

[Desril]

Desril
HP 97/65
AC 30

Seeing Anzor take off toward the city with the Father, the half-fiend looks up and spots the cultist above them. "Enemy mage, above! I'll deal with him!"

Calling upon the power between dimensions, he imbues his sword with a dark energy that pulsates outward, seeming to solidify and extend the blade as he charges skyward, set to cleave the mage in two.


Swift Action: Void Reservoir, +1 and Keen.

Charge (Functions in surprise rounds up to my move speed...which is 60 for flight) [roll0]
Damage [roll1] + [roll2]

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor
The Hell Knight understood and casted a third spell onto himself.

Divine Favor onto self


HP 67, Armor 29, Saves 9/10/13
Attack bonus w/Bardiche +17/+12 (2d8+16)
2/6 level 1 spell slots expended
1/5 level 2 spell slots expended
Stance: Black Seraph's Glare
Style: Black Seraph Style
Maneuvers Readied: Scything Strike, Iron Shell, Fear the Reaper, Seraph's Wrath, Burnished Shell, Scarlet Eye's Perception.
58 rounds left of Expeditious Retreat (+30 ft speed)
19 rounds left of Protection from Chaos (+2 Deflect and Saves against Chaotic enemies, +additional effects)
10 rounds left of Divine Favor (+2 luck bonus to attack and wep damage rolls)

[OzzyKP]

Fargo

Anzor disappeared from sight and Fargo readied himself for battle. In one fluid motion he quickly removed a wand from his handy haversack with his left hand and with his right he drew his sword to be ready for battle. He then cast shield on himself.


Fargo Swiftsilver (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)
AC 31 - (10 base + 1 DEX + 9 armor + 2 natural + 1 size + 4 shield + 2 Phalanx + 2 prot from chaos)

Move action: draw wand
Free action: draw sword
Standard action: cast shield with wand

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

The Long March: Round 1
(Surprise Round: Desril) Combat Ends

The half-fiend felt a surge of energy race through him, as three large spectral crows manifested 15ft above him as the twins vanished from sight. A dark aura and an elemental surge raced through his ancient blade crackling with electric energies as he stood within the aura they cast.

With a thought the void energies within himself channel into the large bastard sword causing the blade to lengthen and glow with a dim pulsating hue. A great leap and he exploded off into the air, hurtling towards the mage silently chanting far above. The empowering elemental energies that raced through his blade faded as he flew through the sky, distancing himself from the empowering aura of the black-birds below him.

The hooded mage, seemed not to notice the impending assault too preoccupied with his spell. A dark orb of flame begun to sputter to life in his hands, some form of corrupted fire tainted by dark magic's. He look up from his dark cowl just as Desril was upon him - not even given the time to scream, the blade came down.

The Void Knight felt the rattle of resistance as his great blade came upon the feeble looking mage, meeting some barrier of force, but with little difficulty, his blade cleaved the semi-solid field, and the man, in two. The long blade easily slid through his collar to his pelvis like dividing a soft gelatinous mold. A gargled cough of blood left his lips, crimson steams ran from his nose and mouth as the two parts of his body were cast down from the air above to splatter into the thick liquefied earth below, raining swathes of crimson fluid to those below.

Those still present saw the swift yet devastating blow that rent the mage in twain, showered by the light mist of his blood followed by the sickening splatter of the lifeless corpse to the ground. The blood passed through the spectral birds that flew above - yet no footprints, nor sign of the twins remained.
*******************

From the air, Desril could make out a half-dozen or so similar dark mages that held their positions in the air the last quarter of the way to the gate, hiding behind their spells of invisibility while completing the first spell, in what would no doubt be a number of defensive spells, after seeing their surprise attack had failed utterly.

The others had not even seen the invisible caster, but were now aware of such threats about them. Invisible enemies lurked about - thankfully the half-fiend's quick response had saved them from the unexpected ambush this time, but, It was time to move, and quickly.

The Long March: Round 2 (Begins)
*******************

The Ramparts: Round 1
Anzor, with his quick whit and reflexes grabbed the old priest and Miles before Desril had even took to the sky. The temporal-bounding back-to-back took them directly to the city, atop the city's large walls, The Ramparts of Magnimar, which the guard patrolled... or so they should have. The city below was quiet, but not damaged in anyway. The gates still held firm, but lifeless bodies were scattered all about, one had terrible wounds and was bleeding profusely. A young man drabbed in a chain shirt and the tabard of the city. A strange cleric knelt over him, his wounds slowly mending, a strange musket was strapped to her back. Looking up in surprise as the trio of filth covered men appeared before her, she snapped out a glass-like dagger from her waist, then slowly lowered her hand - taking a good look over the travelers, before her eyes seemed to flash in recognition of the old man. "Father Sipel, you're back! We feared you had been caught in the chaos." - Sipel glanced around the bloodied ramparts. " It seems things are rather dire..." - the strange priestess shook her head. "It appears far worse then it is. The city has not been breached, nor have the attacks continued to press the city since the 1st Infantry and the cultists were simultaneously annihilated... It seems The Messengers have no intention of breaching the city - yet now the dead rise. It is quite troublesome. - Look over the wall."
They leaned over looking into the darkness. While from a distance it appeared as some cloud of deeper darkness, this close, the cloud of blackness could be seen through, with some difficulty.

Below in the darkness, a massive beast stood with crimson skin and great blades of stone in hand - a massive set of jagged horns reached up from its brow, with cloven feet and great wings. An aura of darkness seemed to radiate about the 12ft tall beast. Its burning crimson eyes seemed to pierce the darkness, a horde of strange withering fleshy creatures skulked about the beast made out of the misshapen bodies of the dead. Strange arcane runes were branded into the flesh of the beasts, as if forged from some forgotten practice of necromancy.


The tall red demon is cloaked in a 10ft wide cyclonic rift of air reaching 60ft high. A strange intense energy cast upon it. Runes were engraved upon its flesh as well, emanating a dim glow. The creature seemed very intelligent, assembling the horde of abominations tactfully about himself.

Father Sipel looked at the two besides him. " My apologize for the late introduction, this is Sister V'Sal. A War-Priestess who serves Dawn, and defends The Regalia as well. She is an old friend of mine. " - the Sister nodded, "Sister Lauren V'Sal, pleasure to make your acquaintance - however, I am rather concerned with that strange Mallor Demon below. The magics upon him, have made him rather.... difficult to deal with. The winds that surround him are seemingly identical to The Revelations wielded by The Messengers and Oracles, granting immunity to ranged attacks - not even firearms penetrate the gale. Magic seems to have, 'some' minor effect, but he seems greatly resistant to that which we've thrown upon him and pays us little mind... It would appear the simplest method of dealing with the beast would be in melee combat... Not my specialty. " Father Sipel sighed, looking down into the whirling darkness. " Those behind are going to be charging into 'that' - they could use our assistance... Something tells me these creatures are formidable, though I have not seen such creatures before - I hate to admit it, but I do believe we may perhaps be dealing with more then one Messenger. " - "It matters little. They have already left their own way. You should head to The Triodea, where it is safe, we can clean up this mess. "

The Ramparts: Round 2
Combat Begins
Anzor vanished from sight, and Fargo cast his spell. The priestess, Sister V'Sal sheathed her knife and snapped her musket off her back. "On your guard!" The rattling of metal and sharpened steel echoed about them as the dead guardsmen rose once more still wearing their armor, baring sword and shield, others still brandishing their crossbows. Father Sipel heaved his large worn sword up and over his shoulder in an intimidating posture. " Ugh... fowl undead creatures. Lay them to rest."

Initiative

Sipel +4 [roll0]
V'Sal +9 [roll1]
Miles (Roll)
Anzor (Roll)
Fargo (Roll)
Undead Soldier 1+1 [roll2]
Undead Soldier 2+1 [roll3]
Undead Soldier 3+1 [roll4]
Undead Soldier 4+1 [roll5]
Undead Archer 5+3 [roll6]
Undead Archer 6+3 [roll7]


~ Battle Map will be posted soon. Enemies are located 3 on each side of the ramparts walkway, 1 archer and 2 soldiers.
~ The Malor Demon below is shielded by what appears to be some form of The Revelation of Air; Cyclone. nullifying ranged attacks in an additional 10ft radius around itself (Large Creature).
~ The creatures shrouded in the dark cloud are unable to be easily seen.
Optional: (DC20 Perception) to identify how many of the enemy are within the cloud
Optional: (DC25 Perception/Religion/Arcane) to identify type of creatures
********
Round 2, The Ramparts: Begins with combat - Fargo's actions part of Round 1 (just for clarification, got a little out of order there) Encounter (CR3-4)
Round 2, The Long March: for those traveling to the city begins normally (still in combat time)

Ready. Go!

[The Grue]

[roll0]

Waiting on initiative order to decide action.

[Tuvarkz]

Grunting at the prospect of his spell being wasted, the inquisitor started the long march towards the city.

[OzzyKP]

Anzor listened intently to the assessment of their situation from Sister V'Sal. Anzor had no worries about melee combat, in fact he let slip a small smirk. He's wanted a true challenge in combat, and perhaps he finally had one. He just had a few delivery errands to attend to first.

He spoke first to Miles, "Stay here and assist Sister V'Sal from the wall, I will deliver Father Sipel to Triodea and then deal with this Mallor Demon."

He considered commenting on Miles' cowardice for wishing to stay behind out of harm's way, but decided to just focus on the mission at hand.

"Sister," he said, "I sure hope this Triodea is as safe as you claim. It seems that Father Sipel is the messenger's true target. If he is captured, then they have won. After I have taken him to the Triodea, I will combat the enemy at the gate, but please find a way to signal me if there is a threat on Father Sipel and I shall return."

With that he grabbed Father Sipel and disappeared to the Triodea.


First of all, what the heck is a Triodea? How far is it? Can Anzor see inside it?

Anzor can make two jumps a round (640 ft each), so if the Triodea is less than 1280 ft away, then Anzor can drop Father off and return to the wall (hopefully).

Second, don't forget that Father Sipel is still invisible.

[Pertenetator]

Yasha had a quite many ideas how the teleportation spell would end up. She told the mage to teleport her near Desril , so she would probably be somewhere close to him. They would probably be at combat already, so she was ready for action, having summoned her spectral fiendish right arm. THe shadow tiefling was of course accompanied by her ever sarcasting bird.

Falling flat from the air into Desril, who was in some short of weird muck, was not how she expected it to be.

"S-sorry!" She stammered, managing to land at her feet before crashing on Desril "I was a bit occupied, now what are we dealing here ? " She looked shyly on the other "Oh....hi. My name is Yasha, i am an....acquintance of Desril, pleased to meet you. WHat are we dealing with here exactly and why are we knee deep in this mud ?"

[grumblyarcher]

"'Cause the never-present gods hate us," the Waster growled, lowering his gun after he snapped it out of the holster at the newcomer. "Gotta keep hiking towards the city until the forerunners can arrange a pick-up for us. Unless you got some spells as well, that is."

Satisfied, and apparently trusting the latest addition to their merry band, he promptly turned back to the miserable proposition of making it to the battle before his legs melted off. Violence, he needed to inflict violence on something. It was rapidly turning into the only thing that could potentially salve his current foul mood.

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM

The Long March
The way Forward

The man laughed jovially. For a supposed 'guardian' of The Regalia - he had been a rather lighthearted and cheerful fellow, with a charming grin and a fragile stature. Thin and pale, capped with a wide-brimmed hat and wooden staff, he was the iconic cliche of a mage, save for the various religious madalions that dangled from his waist. His dark blue robes were unreasonably oversized, able to bury even a large orc-of-a-man under the fabric.

Guardian Phezel was a short, stick-of-a-man with boundless energy, who wore twice his weight in fabric... yet he claimed to be a 'cleric' of dawn. Though he did not practice divine magic, nor observe any particular religious practices, he stuck to his claim. The small temple which he tended aided those of The Regalia, and just as Father Sipel had told Yasha, the man had been waiting for her arrival. He appeared only perhaps in his mid 30s, with a wild head of brown hair and a spring in his step - but she had learned that Guardian Phezel was in fact, olden then the withered priest. It was quite a shock. Still the man had been very kind in the short time they had been together, giving her short warning dangers lay ahead for her friends and those near the city. True to his word, he tapped his staff, and unleashed a circle of light around the tiefling sweeping her away to the place she desired...
*********

The light struck the air sharply, like a golden bolt before Yasha's form emerged as if the world had been cleaved in part. The light radiated from her as she touched down to the earth, then it faded quickly...and she felt herself begin to sink...and sink, and sink more, until the liquefied earth met her waist. It smelled rancid, it burned after a short while, and the aroma of rot and decay was bubbling forth from the putrid ground around her... stretching on for a mile. - Yet still she found herself leaning upon Desril, as she gathered her wits. The strange group about her, the lack of Father Sipel. The splattered gore of some darkly cloaked figure sinking into the grime showed there had been battle, though if that was not proof enough, the blood dripping from the half-fiend's large bastard sword spoke volumes.

She looked up at the grey sky, the flock of three large spectral-ravens flew about overhead casting a strange aura down to those below. They were so much dif- She flinched as her own large raven pecked her neck annoyingly while perched on her shoulder. Troublesome creature...

The Long March: Round 2


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

From the sinking halves of the mage's body disappeared from sight, sinking into the molten decay of the earth. Desril descended just in time as Yasha appeared before him. Still he had seen the invisible enemy that lay ahead. A strange crackle of dark energy coursed around them, as an orb of blue light silently ripped forth from the ground and was divided in three parts by the cruel talons of the spectral ravens, ripping the soul asunder, leaving orbs of haunting blue light orbiting around them like gloomy lights.... identical to the Raven that had brought the pestilence and turned the earth to decay, sweeping the souls of hundreds of men away with it.

The power of the shadowy aura noticeably increased, yet it was not a pleasant sight. The lights danced about with the dark flames which followed each raven as they flew in a wide circle about the disheveled hero's. After a short moment they all came to a pause as a deafening cacophonous roar bellowed out far in the distance from the center of the bleak cloud of smog that had been left by the Raven's tainting of the earth. The air seemed to shake with the fury of whatever beast had ushered the cry. It was not a trap, it was a declaration - it was a challenge. If it had been battle they had been seeking, it seemed it had sought them as well.


Some people have group buffs going around. Start posting them in a spoiler and current duration so I can keep all of that organized and consolidated.


Trion: 55/55
Illumination Each: 2
Duration: Permanent
Effect Range: 15ft Aura

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a morale bonus to saving throws against mind-affecting abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +2 bonus)

Raven's Cry 2&3 - Affected allies add energy damage of the candle’s active element’s associated energy type to their melee and ranged attacks, equal to her total class levels. (Current bonus +24 static electric dmg)

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a deflection bonus to their AC equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +2)

Raven's Cry 2 - Affected allies gain immunity to death effects, and gain a bonus on saving throws against psi-like abilities, psionic powers, spell-like abilities, spells, and supernatural abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to the knight-chandler’s Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +2)

Raven's Cry 3 - Affected allies gain a bonus on caster level checks, manifester level checks, and skill checks equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier.(Current +2)

Though it was not for a prolonged period of time, while he was in the sky. Desril was able to make out a half-dozen aerial mages scattered about, hiding in wait behind their invisibility taking the time to prepare defensive spells as their forerunner was so easily dispatched. There seemed to be something of a formation of them, with two staggered ranks. He would need to be mindful how he went about dealing with the troublesome casters... the black-fire he had seen being manifested did not appear to be particularly pleasant - it was no doubt dark and forbidden magics.


Tactical Map (SCALE 50ft)
(The Tactical map is in 50ft squares.)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/L1_zpslga4jouz.png

Terrain:
White-Boarder, Black Square - Dark Cloud

Player Positions:
Green Square (2) - The Party (The Long March)
Purple Square (16) - Anzor's Group (The Ramparts)
Enemies Seen:

Red Diamond (1) - Mage
Red Diamond (2) - Mage
Red Diamond (3) - Mage
Red Diamond (4) - Mage
Red Diamond (5) - Mage
Red Diamond (6) - Mage



The Ramparts: Round 2
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/ENCOUNTER_zps74de3a04.png


Initiative Order
1.) Miles (1d20+11)[24]
2.) Undead Soldier 1+1 (1d20+1)[20]
3.) Anzor Initiative: (1d20+8)[18]
4.) Sipel +4 (1d20+4)[18]
5.) Undead Soldier 4+1 (1d20+1)[14]
6.) Undead Archer 6+3 (1d20+3)[13]
7.) V'Sal +9 (1d20+9)[11]
8.) Undead Soldier 3+1 (1d20+1)[11]
9.) Undead Archer 5+3 (1d20+3)[4]
10.) Undead Soldier 2+1 (1d20+1)[4]


Yes, as you can see, the enemy and players have mixed placement for when they get to act. However, you are a player, and this is a PBP. Players do not need to wait for some dire rat to make its action and may simply post their desired action and wait for it to resolve. However, this is a 'qued-round' and does not take place until the player's initiative actually comes up in order. Players may choose to wait, if they would like to see what the enemy will do first, or they may post to speed things along. Players may remove a qued-round and wait for their Initiative order if they feel it would be more beneficial to see the enemy's actions first.

Initiative and actions will be resolved until it hits a point where a player in-combat has not acted. Thus friendly NPCs and enemies will be resolved in the same post, if consecutive - but immediate actions, etc will still alter resolutions. Friendly NPCs are marked with an Underlined Text. Players with Bold. Enemies with Italics.

Sister V'Sal nodded at Anzor as he grabbed the invisible priest. " Fine go! But return quickly! I cannot hold them all myself, and it seems the corpses of the other guards have been tainted as well." the glow in her eyes hinted at magical aid to assist with her deduction. Father Sipel nodded, taking hold of Anzor as he was grasped. " Forget the demon and return to aid them. Sister V'Sal is a mage unsuited for melee, or combat in quarters this enclosed. " His eyes scanned over the many bodies that were littered about, he could feel the presence of evil radiate from the gore. " The Triodea is as safe a place you will manage to find in the city - we've established it as our headquarters within Magnimar, but do not divide your numbers further. Regroup after I've returned." - Then in a blink they were gone, whisked away to the theater that lay in the south of the circular-junction that was Starsilver Plaza.
************

The doors quickly opened, as the priest dismissed his magical guise. A number of white robed figures held the doors as Father Sipel quickly rushed in shouting over his shoulder " Your task is done, Go! Return when then enemy is vanquished!" - With a thought he teleported away from the large marble theater and its towering doors clad in a burnished steel, reinforced.
************

The rambling corpses seem to be swiftly lifted from the ground by some dark aura... The mangled and bloodied faces of the men that had been were still imprinted with their pained dying expressions and lifeless eyes. The blood still warm. A cry could be heard overhead as a spectral raven of the deepest black circled about. A dim-light washing down upon them as it had similarly before they left, when the mysterious twins had appeared, Dark & Light. Yet now, the mysterious aura did not empower them, rather, the enemies glowed with a seething aura. A crimson spark of light begun to manifest around their weapons, their bodies twitched and jerked violently, blood running from their eyes and every orifice. The Halfling stood besides Miles, already returned from his trip. V'Sal blinked in surprise, he had been gone for perhaps a second, yet her eyes could see Father Sipel was absent. "That's an impressive ability. I do hope you put it to sufficient use. I do believe they mean to do some harm..." She leaned over the soldier she was tending to, his wounds were still knitting closed as the magics previously cast continued their work. She placed a hand on his shoulder. " ...Stay with me, Penance." The man groaned, his head bobbing from side-to-side seeming to be regaining a measure of his senses. " You did well, you bought them enough time, Father Sipel and The Regalia are safe. Just hold on a little longer... I'll get you out of here." The man, while obviously a guardsmen, was not dressed in the same fashion as the dead and the undead around them. His armor was refined, though damaged from battle - his sword was well-bloodied. He had no doubt put up a fight before he was defeated by whatever had come upon the embattled men that had died here and outside the gate. They had only seen the raven bring a sweeping death-like darkness then depart. Still somehow he had managed to cling to life. She gazed at the many corpses about them, then at the bird above. " ...This is not good." The dead-men, now risen, cried out with gurgled cries that erupted into a splatter-filled roar, like something possessed them, they begun to advance from both sides....


Battle Map (5ft Scale)

Map Key
Player Positions:
Scarlet Square (17) - Miles
Yellow Square (11) - Anzor (The Ramparts)

NPCs:
Purple Diamond (3) Sister V'Sal
Pink Diamond (Blank) Penance

Enemies:
Red Diamond (1) - Undead Archer
Red Diamond (2) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (3) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (4) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (5) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (6) - Undead Archer

Other/Misc:
Blue Triangle (Blank) - Corpses

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/r1%20-%20Copy_zpsv1xlc7cx.png

[Desril]

Desril
HP 97/65
AC 30

Seeing the other mages between them and the city floating over the main road, the half-fiend scowls. I could take them out on my own own, but I can't leave the others down in that muck...there's no telling what prolonged exposure to that might do to them.

Reaching his conclusion, just in time for Yasha to appear some distance below him, he folds in his wings and allows gravity to take hold, opening them at the last second to keep himself out of the sludge. "I'm making another portal, it'll put you on the battlements, but you'll have a bit of a walk to get to the gates! Do what you can from there, I'll focus my efforts on the casters hiding under their veils!" As he rips open a gateway through space, he glances at Yasha as if to wish her good luck before vanishing and reappearing some two-hundred meters distant.


Void Travel - Ascendent Dimension Door, picking the various party members as the targets. 3 round gateway that moves them from our present location to the battlements atop the walls at R13.

VR 2/6

[The Grue]

Miles

The recently-dead corpses advancing around him, Miles, with a flick of his wrist, dropped a gleaming silver dagger into his open palm. He drew the dagger back as if to throw it, and as he did fingers of flame and lightning began to dance across its surface. Miles spoke the arcane words and his form seemed to blur and distort, seeming to draw in the shadows around him. With a snap Miles threw the dagger at the shambling corpse to his right; without waiting to see if it struck, he stepped back towards the Priestess behind him. "Your pardon, Sister," he quipped as he drew up alongside her. "I don't normally do the heroic last stand thing, hopefully my colleagues will be along shortly."

Not 100% clear on whether those corpses were spawned on round 1 (and thus have acted) or round 2 (and thus are currently flat-footed). I'll proceed on the latter assumption.

Free - Quickdraw +1 Silversheen dagger from wrist sheath (Dagger gains returning property for 1 round; Bracers of Weapon Recovery)

Swift - Spend 1 Arcane Pool to add Flaming, Shocking to dagger

Full-Round - Initiate Spell Combat:

Thrown attack with dagger targeting Undead Soldier (4)
Attack: [roll0] vs Flat-Footed AC (within 30 ft but distance greater than 1 range increment)
Damage: [roll1] Fire + [roll2] Electric + [roll3] Piercing/Slashing + [roll4] Precision Piercing/Slashing
Debilitating Injury: Disoriented
Cast blur on self



Free - 5-foot step to square C-12

Currently active effects: Returning weapon spell on dagger (1 round), Arcane Pool enhancement (1 minute), blur (6 minutes)

[Pertenetator]

"Well, i am glad i didn't wear my good pants today" Yasha Grumbled as she struggled to move through the muck "This is gonna take awhile. Hey Skrat, do you think you can fly to the gate so i can-


"Miss, i unfortunately have something called "self preservation instinct". I don't want to turn into a pinata for whatever thing is sitting there, waiting for us" the bird grumbled, still sitting on Yasha's shoulder

"Then we have to approach the gate in a more simple manner, it's gonna take awhile though, not to mention that we'll be sitting ducks " She commented as she started trudging her way through the muck.


Yasha 61/61 AC 31
Active Stance: Iron Hand Stance (+3 Shield Bonus to AC)
Birdy 55/55 AC 20

[OzzyKP]

Anzor

Anzor hesitated for a moment. Should he go back and fetch the others or do what he could to keep Sister V'Sal safe from this immediate threat? He wouldn't be gone long, but didn't want the situation to get out of hand here while he was gone, so he settled in for a fight.

"Miles," he shouted, "keep Sister V'Sal safe!"

He drew his trusty blades and moved just out of the reach of the nearest undead soldier. But with his swordmaster's flair, he could reach further than one would expect. With a dramatic lunge, he stabbed the foul creature right through its skull.



Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------

AC: 29 (base 10, +6 armor, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 prot chaos)
HP: 53

Mainhand Attack [roll0] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll1] (+8 DEX, +1 enchantment)

If I roll a 15-20:
Confirm Crit [roll2] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Extra Damage [roll3] (+8 DEX, +1 enchantment)

Note: Anzor has 10 ft reach and 9 AoOs to use.

Swift - Spend 1 panache point on Blue Scarf deed, granting +5 ft reach for 1 minute
Move - Hustles to E-9
Free - Draws swords
Standard - Attacks Undead Soldier #2



Fargo

Grateful to have another teleporter on the team, Fargo indicated his appreciation toward Desril with a nod and then started the long run toward his brother. His armor was heavy, but he'd do the best he could. At the very least he hoped to close the gap enough to make it an easier jump for Anzor.


Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)
AC 30 - (10 base, +1 DEX, -1 Run, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot from chaos)

Full Round - Run - 60 feet toward Anzor (can run for 3 more rounds without Constitution check)






Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
59 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
57 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
9 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
11 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Shield
Fargo
5 rounds
Fargo
Shield
+4 AC


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
359 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Blue Scarf
Anzor
6 rounds
Anzor
---
+5 ft reach

[Tuvarkz]

As he was teleported to the ramparts, Kravor broke off into a run alongside the door.

Run as full round 40ftx3=120 ft, which should leave me somewhere between Q10-Q11

[Pertenetator]

Then Yasha was quickly yanked to a portal, teleporting over the battlements. She didn't knew where the rest of her new group was up to, but seeing others running towards a certain direction made her assumed she was in the right track. She started running northwest, while Skrat was hanging for dear life.


Follow the others, run 200 (50x4) ft, so i would be somewhere to P9

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

The Ramparts: Round 3
Running the Ramparts (Combat)

The muddied group cast themselves through the portal the descended half-fiend created. They hit the solid stone of the city ramparts with wet and heavy boots - but that did not stop them. Springing into action, the group sprinted off, with the tiefling taking the lead, then outright leaving the slower behind her in a burst of speed. Desril could see the dark mages in the distance flying about slowly taking new positions. One in the far distance moved hovering over one of the Bastion Towers far in the distance, perhaps preparing a spell, but that was the lead of his concerns. To his right as he moved, one of the mages had come within both of their ideal ranges, his hands moved methodically beginning to produce another black flame before him, but it seemed the incantation took more time then the caster had thought - for he was far swifter.

The party could see the destruction in the distance of scattered bodies, gore and displaced limbs. It was evident battle had come this way, and the macabre display farther in the distance was a testament to the enemy's strength. It appeared they would quickly find battle.


Desril wins Initiative and gets to act first.

Tactical Map (SCALE 50ft)
(The Tactical map is in 50ft squares.)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/L2_zpsnbqyjuiy.png

Terrain:
White-Boarder, Black Square - Dark Cloud

Player Positions:
Green Square (2) - The Party (The Ramparts - Q-12)
Green Square (2) - Yasha (The Ramparts - P-10)
Purple Square (16) - Anzor's Group (The Ramparts)
Enemies Seen:

Red Diamond (1) - Mage
Red Diamond (2) - Mage
Red Diamond (3) - Mage
Red Diamond (4) - Mage
Red Diamond (5) - Mage
Red Diamond (6) - Mage






The Ramparts: Round 3
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/ENCOUNTER_zps74de3a04.png

Battle Map (5ft Scale)

Map Key
Player Positions:
Scarlet Square (17) - Miles
Yellow Square (11) - Anzor (The Ramparts)

NPCs:
Purple Diamond (3) Sister V'Sal
Pink Diamond (Blank) Penance

Enemies:
Red Diamond (1) - Undead Archer
Red Diamond (2) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (3) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (4) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (5) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (6) - Undead Archer
Burgundy Pentagon (1) - Dark Mage

Other/Misc:
Blue Triangle (Blank) - Corpses

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/r2_zpskgd40qe7.png


Initiative Order
1.) Miles (1d20+11)[24]
2.) Undead Soldier (5) +1 (1d20+1)[20]
3.) Anzor Initiative: (1d20+8)[18]
4.) Undead Soldier )4) +1 (1d20+1)[14]
5.) Undead Archer (6) +3 (1d20+3)[13]
6.) V'Sal +9 (1d20+9)[11]
7.) Undead Soldier (3) +1 (1d20+1)[11]
Dark Mage #1 Initiative: (1d20+6)[10] - DELAYED ACTION
8.) Undead Archer (1) +3 (1d20+3)[4]
9.) Undead Soldier (2) +1 (1d20+1)[4]

Storming the Ramparts [ 1: Miles]

The deft anti-hero snapped out his dagger, flame and lightning filled the blade with arcane might. With a parting flick of the wrist the weapon flew off at the shambling corpse as he took a nimble fading step back towards the Priestess. The Weapon struck the creature directly in the flimsy neck-guard of its armor. It was the weakest point, or so it seemed. Yet to his surprise, the dagger was sent bounding off its target. The weapon had pierced the thin metal, he was sure of it, a splash of flame and light danced about as the blade spun sidelong into the air, and snapped back to his hand. His eyes caught sight of the small-narrow hole his blade had penetrated, the flesh pierced.... but to his surprise, he saw strange bloodied scales beneath the severed skin. A thick black inkor dribbled from the small area where he had stuck. It did not faze the creature in the slightest, but he knew then there was more to the strange dark-glowing horrors that met the eye.


Passing the check, the check the hero comes to notice from the strange event between Mile's attack and the creatures - they are some Blackblooded Creature (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Black_blood) not a simple risen corpse. The enemy is much more threatening then it appears to be, and contact with its blood could prove fatal.

Something about the creatures is unpleasant and unsettling, as if the bodies have been made into marionettes... or something lurks within.

Mile's attack bounds off the enemy (Attack roll under Flat-Footed AC)

Storming the Ramparts [ 2: Undead Soldier]

The creature swayed back and forth as if mindless, before violently exploding into action. Its arms flailed about as if broken as the gargling creature stormed forward as Miles stepped back from the creature his dagger had rebounded off of. The wild corpse wildly leapt at Miles with a whirling horizontal slash with its strangely glowing blade, the flashed with a crimson aura as it came upon him in a rabid frenzy.

Charging @ Miles
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage: (+6 Fire Damage) [roll1]
Critical Confirm: [roll2]
C.Damage: [roll3]

Storming the Ramparts [ 3: Anzor]

Anzor quickly dashed forward, and snapped out his rapier as he came upon the first enemy in his way. With keen agility he lunged out, with blinding speed. So great was the motion, he took to the air thrusting his blade through the corpse's left eye, and kicking off. He landed 10ft back from where the creature had been, flicking the black blood off his weapon with a nimble wrist.

The creature staggered, seemingly felled by the blow, but yet to comprehend what had happened. It shuddered, the creature's knee's knocked together and its head jerked about before a geyser of black blood sprayed out from the hole left in its face. - (DC17 Reflex: Auto Pass) - The black inkor hissed as it touched the ground. The little man looked down at his sword realizing he had left an oozing hole in the creature's visage.... He coughed in surprise as he noticed the dead-man's eyeball skewered to the hilt of his blade dripping a white gel-like fluid on his shoes.. He gave the sword a few quick flicks sending the grotesque object away, as the creature staggered forward, then steadied itself to his surprise. They were built much sturdier then they looked... but he had no time to think... the battle begun in full.

Anzor lands his attack and scores a critical hit. He additionally lands 1 of his 2 AoO (resolved below), both hits landing on Undead Soldier #2. Anzor is in danger of being surrounded or overrun.

Storming the Ramparts [ 4-5-6]
Two of the corpses charged forward blindly thrashing about wildly with their swords. The spectral-raven cried out above. Anzor quickly went to work, snapping forward into a flying thrust that bit deep into the creature's chest spurting out a stream of inkor he quickly evaded, kicking off from it before coming upon the other careless corpse with a vicious slashing blow to the head. The skilled halfling grunted in frustration and from the impact as his blade rebounded off the creature's head after cutting an inch deep. With a sharp and expertly timed drop-kick, he flipped through the air back to his original placement and raised his sword on the defensive as the creatures came upon him.

Behind him, another corpse skittered forth in a frenzied charge at the cunning knife-fighter. Sister V'Sal raised her hand shouting in alarm as the creature came to collide with Miles, bringing down its blade.

Charging @ Miles
Attack Roll: [roll4]
Damage: (+6 Fire Damage) [roll5]
Critical Confirm: [roll6]
C.Damage: [roll7]

The archer far behind Anzor leveled its heavy crossbow on the small halfling that bounded about while easily dodging the black streams from the wounds he inflicted. With a pull of the iron lever, the taught string caught the nock and hurtled the heavy bolt forwards at the little man. The bolt exploded into a crimson burning flame as it streaked through the air.

Attack Roll: [roll8] @ Anzor
Damage: (+6 Fire Damage) [roll9]
Critical Confirm: [roll10]
C.Damage: [roll11]

Sister V'Sal
the Priestess watched in stunned silence as the creatures charged about upon the top of the Bastion. She had known each of them... Thomas, Michael, Richard... She grit her teeth, casting a sidelong glance at Penance who begun to shake the disorientation away and his wounds finally closed. She had to protect him. She snapped her weapon from her back, flipping the musket over and aiming it at the creature directly in-front of her attacking the man who stood at her defense... The motion was far too quick to follow, a blurring motion of speed as the weapon came out, into hand, leveled its barrel, and she pulled the trigger in the creature's face - point blank.

The masterful shot offered no room for the creature to even react, receiving the shot, a flip of the weapon, reloaded, another, and a third - The three shots exploded out from her weapon in rapid succession, casting out terrible flashes of fire and electricity into the air, as magic and gun-smoke merged into a storm of gunfire in a masterful display. The creatures howled under the assault, and massive holes were left in the creature's body, as if the ammunition were designed for slaying such creatures.

(Rapid Shot + PBM) @ Undead #5
Attack Roll: [roll12]
Damage: (Undead Bane Bullet) (Electric) [roll13] + [roll14]
Critical Confirm: [roll15]
C.Damage:[roll16]

Attack Roll: [roll17]
Damage: (Undead Bane Bullet) (Electric) [roll18] + [roll19]
Critical Confirm: [roll20]
C.Damage:[roll21]

Attack Roll: [roll22]
Damage: (Undead Bane Bullet) (Electric) [roll23] + [roll24]
Critical Confirm: [roll25]
C.Damage:[roll26]

Storming the Ramparts [7-8-9]

The chaos of battle raced about them and the enemies charged upon the nimble little man in a frenzy, hurtling their own bodies with steel and blood in a wildly vicious stream of attacks. The nimble halfling ducked and turned, dodged what he could. Bolts raced through the air, the lumbering corpses came upon him wildly, gunsmoke burned his lungs. He snapped out his sword with a precise strike intended to parry the creature he had wounded twice already.. a felling blow, yet his effort was for naught. The unearthly strength of the creature crushed past his sword as the frantic maniacal beast smashed through his well trained defenses with sheer reckless power and fury. It was not a battle, it was war against the unliving... The twang of a crossbow echoed off in the distance as the creatures collided upon him, attempting to overwhelm and overrun the nimble little swordsmen.


Charging (Undead #2) @ Anzor
Attack Roll: [33] - Penetrated Parry
Damage: (+6 Fire Damage) [roll27]
Critical Confirm: [roll28]
C.Damage: [roll29]

Charging (Undead #3) @ Anzor
Attack Roll: [roll30]
Damage: (+6 Fire Damage) [roll31]
Critical Confirm: [roll32]
C.Damage: [roll33]

Attack Roll: [roll34] @ Anzor
Damage: (+6 Fire Damage) [roll35]
Critical Confirm: [roll36]
C.Damage: [roll37]



************************************************** ******




Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
58 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
56 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
8 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
10 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Shield
Fargo
4 rounds
Fargo
Shield
+4 AC


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
358 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Blue Scarf
Anzor
5 rounds
Anzor
---
+5 ft reach




Trion: 55/55
Illumination Each: 3
Duration: Permanent
Effect Range: 15ft Aura

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a morale bonus to saving throws against mind-affecting abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +3 bonus)

Raven's Cry 2&3 - Affected allies add energy damage of the candle’s active element’s associated energy type to their melee and ranged attacks, equal to her total class levels. (Current bonus +24 static electric dmg)

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a deflection bonus to their AC equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +3)

Raven's Cry 2 - Affected allies gain immunity to death effects, and gain a bonus on saving throws against psi-like abilities, psionic powers, spell-like abilities, spells, and supernatural abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to the knight-chandler’s Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +3)

Raven's Cry 3 - Affected allies gain a bonus on caster level checks, manifester level checks, and skill checks equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier.(Current +3)

[OzzyKP]

Fargo - Round 3

He thought he was running to get in on the battle, but the battle came to him. Out of nowhere, two massive fireballs exploded on the ramparts near him. With quick reflexes he was able to avoid the center of the blast, but still was hit with more than enough to do serious damage. He felt like he was being cooked in his armor. Quick, Fargo pulled out his Cure Light Wounds wand and cast it on himself. It wouldn't do much, but in his current state, every bit would help. He also called upon the healing power of their god and gave himself bit of additional healing.


Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)
AC: 29 - (10 base, +1 DEX, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 prot from chaos)
HP: 14 (31 base, +3 LoH, +5 CLW, -10 flame, -8 flame, -3 vile, -4 vile)

Move action: Pull out wand
Standard action: use wand on self
CLW: [roll0]
Swift: Lay on Hands (3 healed)

[Desril]

Desril
HP 118/65
AC 30

Smirking as his opponent starts to call up some vile flame, the half-fiend uses his wings to propel him into the air and away from the others. Even if things go badly now, I can draw their fire...but as vulnerable as these fools are, it shouldn't be an issue.

While his rival chants arcane words, Desril simply hovers in place, one hand held outward as he concentrates, calling upon his connection to the void to conjure a sphere of energy in his palm. "Pathetic, the lot of you," he calls out to the dark mages, his voice dripping with condescension. "Six of you waiting in ambush and you fail this miserably? It amazes me that you can even fly!" The dark orb finished, he briefly augments it with a life-draining spell before unleashing it all outward in an explosive wave of force intending to obliterate half of his magical opposition in a single dark blast. "Not that it matters now, begone!"


Move to O10 if possible (precise measurements aren't viable on a 50ft map, but I have 60ft speed) P10 otherwise. Either should work, O10 just makes it easier to see.

Void Blast - Augmented by Arcane Reservoir and an Ascendent Empowered Extended Vampiric Touch and then Empowered further (I should be able to hit Mages 4, 5, and 6 from either position (though as mentioned, it's just easier to see from O10) because it's a long line that hits adjacent spaces too)

Reflex DC 21 for half [roll0] + [roll1] (the 4d8 is added to me as temp HP, if any of them die I get fast healing 5 for 1 round/HD)

Void Reservoir 0/6, Arcane Reservoir 2/4.
2nd level spell general cooldown [roll2] rounds

[Tuvarkz]

As Kravor is brought into the midst of the battle, he laughs and establishes his defensive zone!
Initiative [roll0]
Defensive Zone: Kravor now threatens all creatures within 20 ft of himself until his next turn((At the current location E9-targetting any creature within the A 5-I 13 square)), being able to move up to his movement speed total to catch any potential AoO provokers if they aren't within his 10 ft weapon reach. In addition, his CMD against tumble checks is now 39. (He can make up to 7 AoOs per round). ((Additionally, should the mage attempt to cast a touch spell, he will use Fear the Reaper against it, setting the ranged touch effect as the DC for his Intimidate check to beat. If he himself is targetted by a spell, though, he will use Burnished Shell instead, rolling for his max attack bonus+Shield bonus to AC against a CL roll from the caster to cancel the spell.))
((EDIT: Action queued for Round 4 unless situation noticeably changes))

[grumblyarcher]

[roll=Damage 1 + Up Close and Deadly]1d8+2d6+13

[roll1]
[roll2]

[roll3]
[roll4]

Snapping back into reality and awash with tainted flames, the Waster spun on his heel, sending a cascade of cinders from his duster. In a blur, his iron leapt into his hand as he fanned the hammer and answered fire with fire. Thunder spat from the barrel as three shots sped towards the man foolish enough to insult him with magic of all things.

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM

The Ramparts: Round 3
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/ENCOUNTER_zps74de3a04.png

Miles was caught off guard, but not unawares. The cunning thief dipped in and out of the attacking creature's flailing arms and bloodied swords, Sister V'Sal stormed the creature at his side, flipping out her musket and unleashing a torrent of gunfire in the creature's face. Shot after shot after shot, the corpse was blasted with electrified bullets of magical energy. The first shot took off a chunk of its skull, the second pierced through its cheeks, and the third through its eye spraying geysers of black inkor, which the nimble Priestess sidestepped. The thing staggered backwards and thrashed about as if in pain, Mile's ears rang from the deafening explosions - yet the scene before him was not lot. His eyes widened in silent shock at the unfolding battle before him. Their only frontline fighter, while fighting brilliantly, was being pushed back, under the onslaught. They were loosing... if the little man went down, they'd be next. A twitch rang through his cheek as the sharp thump of a thick and heavy bolt jolted into the little man's back, audibly splitting a shoulder-blade... Where they going to die here?

The halfling's sword danced through the air, his footwork was measured and precise. The creatures thrashing blades, cleaved the air and into the stone of the Bastion like scythes, sending up showers of sparks. A quick kick to the leg and a punch with the basket-hilt of his rapier sent one of the creature's reeling back interrupting its attack. He sharply turned about - THUMP, his eyes widened in horror, as he looked down at his chest, the bodkin head of a bolt stuck out from his chest... then the agony swelled over his back, washing over him, nearly making him swoon from the pain of his splintered bones in his back. He fought on, raising his sword limply with good form lashing out to parry, the wild spinning horizontal strike of the maddened creature that came upon him. The shock of the blow was tremendous, far stronger then any man - his sword went wide. His feet weren't quick enough, as he saw the blade come back around, he raised up his forearm to his face defensively blocking the brutal slash with his own limb. Blood sprayed upon the ground, the blade bit deep into his shoulder, and forearm, just narrowly avoiding the back of his neck. The creature seemed to cackle at the fresh blood upon his blade. Anzor staggered backwards, his arm went limp, the blood ran from his wounds dripping upon the ground before he heard the twang of a bowstring. THUMP He yelped out in pain as another heavy bolt buried itself in his lower abdomen, he bit down and tightened his jaw, stifling the cry of anguish and the tears. He wouldn't give his enemy the pleasure of seeing him suffer. With a grunt he lifted his mutilated arm up and placed his hand on his chest - a warm light filled him, the wounds on his arm begun to close. He gasped sharply, the pain of the bolts digging into his body was terrible, but he'd faced worse - though he had to admit to himself, he did not quite expect the enemy to be this formidable...


Anzor uses Lay on Hands (Swift) on himself. Round 3 for the other members of the party will now be resolved.

The Ramparts: Round 3
Running the Ramparts (Combat)


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

Desril took to the air, flying out over the tainted earth intending to end the mages before him in one pass. The casters took note of the familiar mage-killer, as he took to the sky in pursuit of them, giving his short rant as they begun their own chants. The half-fiend extended his arm unleashing the power of the void within himself. An explosive 15ft wide violet beam exploded outwards with a violent jolt of force. The massive beam landed a glancing blow upon one of the mages in the distance, who silently thrashed about with his head, but maintained his chanting with stoic determination, while the furthest mage in the distance was struck squarely instantly obliterated from the blast.

At the same time, both of the dark mages opened their eyes, with a wicket smile upon their faces. As if with the same thought in mind, with violent force they both cast out their spells of darkfire upon the running group down at the ramparts, completely ignoring the mage-killing half-fiend. He watched in shock as the evil spells, collided with his friends below in massive blasts of black flames. An explosion of burning darkness, a cry could be heard below - they were awash in terrible pain, their skin blistered and burned. Then a second explosion, terrible visions violently accosted their minds, as if their very souls were being polluted from the black flame's touch. Agony, pain, visions of suffering and death, a sinister desire steeped in malevolence burned inside, black charred patches of black-smoking flesh were left on their bodies that would not heal. They smoldered and burned painfully without end. Krevor rolled through the flames and continued running forth fighting through the pain. Prime, caught directly in the blast, was sent sprawling to the stone ground burning in black flames, nearly killed in the blasts. Krevor mumbled under his breath while bitterly patting out the flames, and healing the small Fey creature as Fargo quickly healed himself as well and they both took off down the ramparts towards the battle in the distance.

The Waster however, did not take off down the ramparts with his compatriots who had clawed their way up from the blackened-scorched stone and pressed on. Rather, he rose from the black-stone with a sharp twist, sending up a cloud of black embers as he pushed the side of his duster aside revealing his holstered weapon. Getting shot at or stabbed one one thing.... but this? His eyes narrowed as he glared off at the hooded mage who smirked devilishly at the scorched gunslinger. He had a bone to pin with him with this spell-slinging fool. The mage put his hands together, as if to begin chanting again- before the sorry sod's mouth could even open, the iron of his weapon snapped into his hands, and with a rapid sweep of his hand, he fanned the hammer of his revolver. The scream of the shots rang out like one, he sharply spun the weapon over and holstered - a silence passed. The mage's arms went limp, falling to his side, after a short moment he fell from the sky headfirst and splattered on the ground a hundred feet below. He didn't need to see the corpse, to know he put three bullets in the sod's skull. He took note of the unconscious body of the Fey on the path the others had left with him. He saw the ravens overhead fly after the group before pausing in the air, one of the birds fly up sharply and opened it's mouth, ushering out a deafening caw-

The air trembled as the light within a line directed forward from the bird's beak darkened and diminished into a bleak void of supernatural black, as if the very light had been extinguished in a cylinder of death. Then, a blast of energy shook the air. The grey of the sky seemed to dim slightly, an unprecedented level of unspeakable evil came into being in the world, something so fowl it could not pass unnoticed to any that could feel the existence of great wickedness. The mage who flew, cloaked in his magic's on invisibility over Anzor and Miles in the sky looked up in dread. His spell was dismissed, his robes begun to burn. His hair turned stark white, his eyes black and his skin a deathly pale... Then the darkness passed him by. The mage cried out in agony as black steams ran from his face, he clawed at the hole in his chest, screaming out wildly like a maddened dog. Then his body spiraled violently as if collapsing into the hole in his chest, imploding in a splash of gore and shredded bits of bloodied carnage. A black surge of energy blasted outward as the remains of his body showered all below - some sinister black light rose into the sky. An unknowable evil released into the world in the death-surge. The dark mages looked up to the sky as the black wisp vanished into the clouds.... what evil terror had been unchained in exchange for such power? - The place the mage had been was stained with a dark cloud, forever - the very air tainted by a static cloud of haunting black mist that twisted and silently moaned with ghastly faces.... No light passed through the cloud of black, as if it had simply been extinguished.


Exceptionally malevolent forces and energies taint the world as described as 'lingering effects of evil' (Book of Vile Darkness) - which can manifest in a number of ways in the weather, a place, or those effected.

The attack used (Raven's Cry: The Star's Extinguished) is a profane and evil act and counts as a "Great and Powerful Malevolent Act' as powerful evil energies/fiends/outsiders are released into the material plane which can cause a number of notible effects to creatures/locations/objects - things effected by such changes are always able to be sensed via Detect Evil, revealing contact with such evil.

Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile Damage)
Kravor: 40/67 (7 Vile Damage)
Prime: -11/32 (10 Vile Damage) - (Healed to 0 by Krevor)
Fargo: 7/31 (7 Vile Damage) (Lay on Hands: Healed 3)

Tactical Map (SCALE 50ft)
(The Tactical map is in 50ft squares.)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/L3_zpsu0di2sqt.png

Terrain:
White-Boarder, Black Square - Dark Cloud

Player Positions:
Green Square (2) - The Party (The Ramparts - Q-12)
Green Square (2) - Yasha (The Ramparts - P-10)
Purple Square (16) - Anzor's Group (The Ramparts)
Enemies Seen:

Red Diamond (1) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (2) - Mage
Red Diamond (3) - Mage
Red Diamond (4) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (5) - Mage
Red Diamond (6) - Mage



Battle Map (5ft Scale)

Map Key
Player Positions:
Scarlet Square (17) - Miles
Yellow Square (11) - Anzor
Pink Square (15) - Yasha

NPCs:
Purple Diamond (3) Sister V'Sal
Pink Diamond (Blank) Penance

Enemies:
Red Diamond (1) - Undead Archer
Red Diamond (2) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (3) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (4) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (5) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (6) - Undead Archer


Other/Misc:
Blue Triangle (Blank) - Corpses

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R3_zpsejcetn83.png

Round 3: Ends



The Ramparts: Round 4
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/ENCOUNTER_zps74de3a04.png

His eyes fluttered open to the sight of combat and the rain of gore from above as the mage imploded and rained down upon them. Penance heaved his heavy body from the ground, the dented full-plate still strapped firmly on. He heaved his longsword up and raised his shield, looking about at the unfolding battle. "What is this? What's happening!?" Sister V'Sal looked over her shoulder but there was no time to explain, she simply nodded at the risen knight. He brought up his shield, she was right - there would be time for explanations later.

Penance has joined the battle!
Initiative: [roll0]

[Desril]

Desril

Glancing back just in time to see the explosions going off behind him, the half-fiend glares at the dark mages. "I am your opponent! Let me show you how that spell truly works!"

Flicking his hand outward, he flings an orb of fire at the surviving mage before calling out to the remaining two before the dust even clears. "You're dealing with me, or I'm going to make sure you die slower than your comrades!"


Power of Opposition: Fireball + Frigid Touch consumed for +3 VR

3rd level spell general cooldown [roll1] rounds
2nd level spell general cooldown 3 rounds
1st level spell general cooldown [not rolled, 1d4+1, just going to set it to 5 rounds to avoid the hassle of needing to roll since this is an edit]

[Pertenetator]

Yasha moved swiftly as she saw the fight in front of her, and a skeleton close to herself. Using her inner powers, she summoned an orb of blackness that engulfed the skeleton, while she herself was teleported right next to him, fist ready to strike . "Backup's coming !" she yelled to the sister, remembering her from the mission's description by the man .

"And it's called Bird to the face!" Skrat chimed in, swooping down on the skeleton as a veil of darkness surrounded them


Yasha spends a swift action to Claim undead archer 6, making him cursed and suffer -2 to AC and Reflex saves

THen she initiates Relentless Warden's Strike, teleporting to his position and dealing +2d6 damage
Attack roll [roll0]
damage[roll1] plus [roll2]
ALso it initiates a grab by fiend's grip [roll3]
Skrat charges [roll]1d20+11[.roll] dmamge [roll4]

Gloom in a 10ft radius, giving Yasha and birdy total concealment

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM

The Ramparts: Round 3
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)


The Messengers have unleashed some terrible curse upon the very earth, blighting the land within a mile of The East Gate which The Lost Coast Road leads into with a terrible curse. The liquefied earth is incredibly dense and heavy, preventing swift movement while on the ground.
~ Players cannot take a 5ft Step while on the ground
~ The ground is considered Difficult Terrain - Effects that apply to Difficult Terrain are effective
~ Players can only move 5ft a round while on the ground, due to the cement like properties of the tainted earth

CONDITION; Knocked Prone - Unlike normal ground, the muck is so thick that it requires 2 consecutive Full-Round Actions to regain footing, unless the creature possesses an ability or feature that removes them from the 'prone' state (Kip-Up) or removes them from the muck. [/U]
CONDITION; Befouled - Each full minute of uninterrupted exposure to the tainted earth (walking/traveling in it) will cause a living creature to sustain 1 Point of Damage

Not wasting her opportunity to strike, seeing the combat unfold before her. Yasha unleashed blast of intangible energy upon the undead archer's rear, cursing the corpse as she teleported forward in a flash that shrouded the area in a 10ft ball of darkness. She came down with a hammering gauntleted overhead fist to the corpse's head. A sharp crack sounded as her strike crashed into the things head with a sickening splatter. Part of the creature's head slightly caved in from the blow and a thick black goo oozed out from the wound. Her attack had indeed done considerable damage, but she could feel the hard bone beneath resist the blow. She wrestled the creature from the rear into a grapple, slightly lifting it from the ground as it thrashed about helplessly. Her raven came down and dug into the creature's face with a passing attack using its sharp beak. Yet the bird's attack seemed to be harmlessly deflected as it bit to the hard bone beneath.


Yasha attacks, hits. Does some damage. Initiates grapple: passes
Bird attacks (even though attack roll is messed up, doesn't matter because damage won't bypass DR)
Moving on to Round 4


The Ramparts: Round 4
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/ENCOUNTER_zps74de3a04.png

The dark mage, now revealed after his attack against the party below, laughed insanely at Desril's words as if finding amusement in the half-fiend's frustrations watching his friends die. The other mages in the distance begun to conjure forth flames, ignoring the Void Knight and focusing in on the running pair, Anzor and Kravor as the three ravens flew above. The mage before the half-fiend paid no mind to his slain comrade, shot out of the air by the mysterious gunslinger - completely unfazed. The flames died down below, the wild burning frenzy of fire revealed only Waster left, standing alone amid the fire. Prime and his jovial band had been smote in the blast, the little fey shattered into gleams of familiar blue light and vanished, as if taken away. Still the carnage below was no illusion. One of The Regalia had fallen. The mage yelled out something in Infernal while laughing madly, lifting his hands in the air creating another dark flame, and turning to target Kavor's group, as well.
"You know nothing of power fool! Live. Kill. Die. And, live again! - Hahaha, The Messenger's faithful shall live forever! Now watch your friend's bur-!"

The dark mage's ranting was cut short as Desril unleashed a blast of energy out from his hand in rage. Seeing his allies killed around him, ignored by the enemy before him... There was a certain kind of powerlessness that clawed at his heart. The smoldering carnage below... it could have easily been Yasha, had she not been faster then the others. The thought of loosing those he cared for was a terrible thing. The force stuck the mage squarely in the chest, the mad-wizard flinched visibly, his arms twitched. He was struggling, fighting, trying with all he may to cast his fire down upon the running group below. He screamed out in frustration, his eyes darting back to Desril, then back to the orc and halfling, then back to the the half-fiend, whose arm was still extended - freezing the mage in place. The mage begun to scream in frustration glaring at Desril with blood-shot eyes, filled with something beyond contempt - confusion... hatred. "CURSE YOU! ...CURSE YOU! I'LL KILL THEM! I'LL KILL THEM ALL! YES, I'LL SAVE YOU FOR LAST, SO YOU CAN WATCH THEM SUFFER! HAHAHA- " He closed his hand, violently, as if crushing a small fruit. The mage exploded in a wet splash of gore, liquefied from the pressure of the void's power within him. He looked at his hand, then at the rain of bloody sludge that splattered upon him and rained down to the violated earth. He wiped the filth from his face, he didn't know he possessed such power - something had awoken then slipped through his fingers at that moment. Whatever it was... whatever that had been, he would find out - but now was not the time for questions, his gaze quickly darted back down to the ramparts where Kravor and Fargo ran, the mage's spells had been complete, they raised their hands into the air preparing to launch their assault upon the wounded pair. He wouldn't make it in time!
Desril had actually killed Mage #6 the previous round, but due to a miscalculation on his round he forgot to add the damage that would have taken him out. This round, Mage #6 is killed by Desril (Non-Action) in what could only be... a flavored Mythic Flag. Whoo~

The Spectral Ravens above Kravor and the half-man cried out as the mages in the distance raised their hands. One of the large birds took to the sky again, crying out twice. Massive bursts of golden light surrounded by huge circular seals swiftly manifested twice then vanished. The temperature seemed to rise, as a bright light from above like two small suns behind the clouds gathered. With thundering fury, two pillars of golden light crashed down from the sky to the earth. A blast of sub-sonic force shook the ground as the golden pillars of light consumed the dark mages. An overwhelming aura of purity and righteous fury filled the air and parted the grey sky. The pillars of light filled the air with life and energy, the dark cloud of taint left from the raven's previous attack was swept away as if purified. The light thinned and faded, leaving no traces of the casters... Yet the aura of good remained, the air was charged with immense magical power. The birds had cast down the last of the dangerous enemies, who came into view at the last moment before the beams of light came crashing down.

The massive blasts of energy have smote the dark mages and left an overwhelming aura of good removing the evil effects of the previous attack


On a successful check, the character recognizes an immensely powerful variation of the Disintegrate Spell as part of the attack

On a successful check, the character recognizes the magic was not cast at the time. No components to cast the spell were present, and thus must have been cast and withheld via another source or object of great power.

On a successful check, the character recognizes the magic used was vastly different from the normal variation of the spell, heavily modified via Metamagic or some other means. Additionally, the magic possessed a Sonic area of effect which was not part of the spell but from another source.


The last of the mages had been defeated, the golden light from the sky held Penance's attention from a short time. The weary knight, could sense the evil about him washed away amid the overwhelming presence of good. He grit his teeth and pushed himself forward, his legs ached, his arms were numb, yet still he willed himself to fight. He raised his sword into the air, it ignited in blue light. He had hunted the undead for so long... so long, his mind barely allowed him to recognize the men before him - his men. They were only enemies. The crimson of blood ran down his longsword, still freshly bloodied. The lance on his back still fresh and ready should he need it. He ran forward, then kicked off to the side hammering the creature attacking Miles, shoulder-checking it with his shield before coming about in a backhanded slash. " HAAAAA!" He cried out as the blade slashed into the creature cutting through its collarbone to its sternum with a terrible sharp cracking sound. The bone cloven, a hiss as the chest cavity opened, a lung split. It would have been a mortal wound to a living man. He grunted int frustration, his short black hair barely covering the weary, spiteful eyes that glared in disgust at the creature that had once been his friend. Without a thought he smacked the creature off his blade with a punch from the edge of his shield, taking a defensive fighting posture raising his shield at the ready. 'Kill-Kill-Kill them all...' Nothing else mattered. If they were undead, be they friend or child, he would purge them from existence. The pounding rage filled him, and made the scar on his left jaw ache. He would not let a single one of these blighted creatures remain... This is what he did, this is why he took up the sword - never again would he watch helplessly as the dead tormented the living. '...Never again'

Tactical Map (SCALE 50ft)
(The Tactical map is in 50ft squares.)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/L4_zps03ijifwh.png

Terrain:
White-Boarder, Black Square - Dark Cloud

Player Positions:
Orange Triangle (3) - Kravor/Fargo/A'Seere
Blue Triangle (1) - Desril
Blue Triangle (3) - Waster
Purple Square (16) - Anzor's Group (Combat Group 1)


Enemies Seen:
Red Diamond (1) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (2) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (3) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (4) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (5) - Mage - DEAD
Red Diamond (6) - Mage - DEAD





Battle Map (5ft Scale)

Map Key
Player Positions:
Scarlet Square (17) - Miles
Yellow Square (11) - Anzor
Pink Square (15) - Yasha

NPCs:
Purple Diamond (3) Sister V'Sal
Pink Diamond (Blank) Penance

Enemies:
Red Diamond (1) - Undead Archer
Red Diamond (2) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (3) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (4) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (5) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (6) - Undead Archer


Other/Misc:
Blue Triangle (Blank) - Corpses

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R4_zpsqojrpgq5.png



Penance Ra'Val
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/zreo94d548-1435907587%20-%20Copy_zpsmxzy7vff.jpg

[grumblyarcher]

The Waster rolled his neck and began plucking the spent casings from his revolver and replacing them with fresh ones. He did not run towards the next battle, but rather walked along the battlements leaving the brass casings behind.

Reloading as a move action, walking 30ft towards the next fight. I intend to stop about 200ft from the fight and start shooting again.

[OzzyKP]

Anzor - Round 4

Anzor had done battle with the undead on many occasions. Indeed he had even done battle with powerful necromancers and their creations, but as recently raised undead these were surprisingly strong. His pride was indeed a flaw of his, and in this case his cockiness got the better of him. Thinking he could handle them on his own without reinforcements was the height of reckless bravado and it nearly killed him. Perhaps these messengers and their lackeys were more powerful than Anzor gave them credit for. Ah well, as his trainers at the monastery used to say, all of life was a lesson if your eyes are open.

He briefly meditated on that and just then, his eyes caught a glimpse of those ravens from the twins. At least he thought it was them, they were a bit far off. He wasn't sure what to make of them, but they seemed to be assisting his party, perhaps the others were nearby. If so then Desril must have brought the group out of the muck and they were close enough for Anzor to grab quickly.

He spit up some blood as he tried to speak, "Miles, these undead are more powerful and shrewd than expected, we cannot face them alone. I will bring in some help."

In a flash he was gone.

Reappearing near Kravor and Fargo he rested his arms on each of their heavily armored shoulders. Both to allow him to transport them and to help support his weight. His once nimble legs were suddenly shaky.

In between loud wheezes he quickly warned them before whisking them away to battle, "Be ready, the dead rise and attack with a strength I've not before seen from their kind."

With that the three of them were returned to the scene of battle and Anzor quickly healed himself.


Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------

AC: 36 (10 base, +6 armor, +2 shield, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot chaos, +3 aegis)
HP: 23 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH)

Swift action: teleport to get allies
Standard action: teleport to E10. Kravor is put in E9, and Fargo in D10 (all three get +2 AC from phalanx feat)
Free action: Use Mote of Time to get extra Swift Action
2nd Swift Action: Lay on Hands 10 healed


Fargo - Round 4

Still very wounded from the magical attacks, Fargo again casts Cure Light Wounds on himself and uses Lay on Hands to heal himself.

After his healing, Fargo saw Kravor flinch as Anzor suddenly appeared at their side. He knew the hardened warrior wasn't afraid, but it was startling to be around his brother. Startling, at least, if you hadn't been around it all your life.

Fargo was just relieved to see him. Especially after that brutal fireball he got hit with. Just like always, his brother showed up right in time to bail him out. But he was startled to see his older brother in rough shape as well. They've made it through many tough spots before, and he's seen his brother in much worse shape, but it was only a moment ago that he saw him last. Had the battle turned so quickly, so fast for everyone? He didn't know, but he steeled himself for whatever would come on the other side of the jump.


Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)----------
AC: 34 - (10 base, +1 DEX, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot from chaos, +3 aegis)
HP: 21 (-10 flame, -8 flame, -3 vile, -4 vile, +3 LoH, +5 CLW, +4 LoH, +3 CLW)

Standard action: use wand on self
CLW: [roll0]
Swift: Lay on Hands [roll1]

[Tuvarkz]

As he was brought in, Kravor shouted: "In the name of Asmodeus, the demonic forces be destroyed!" and then struck with terrible wrath one of the undead in front of him!

Judgement of Destruction as swift action (+3 sacred bonus to weapon damage rolls), Seraph's Wrath as standard on the undead soldier of red diamond 2. On hit, reflex 22 or be knocked prone.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Maneuver Additional damage [roll2]

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Lost Coast Road - 6:16 AM

Sister V'Sal was releaved to see Penance recover himself and spring into the battle, he was the expert among them when dealing with the risen-dead, and over the years she had come to trust his keen-eye and judgement. " Penance! The hell kind of zombies are these? Ugh-" She blocked a sword with her musket and parried it to the side. " ...They're so tough, why won't they stay dead!?" - The antagonistic man grunted as she smashed his shield into one of the creature's faces with a quick jab, and deflecting its blade with his azure sword, watching Anzor return with two new faces in tow. His eyes quickly assessed the creatures about him. "This is not simple necromancy. They are undead, to be sure, but they are shells. Hosts, for some other entity or corruption within these corpses. Strike them with holy weapons and you will inflict mortal wounds! but be wary of whatever blight they contain. " He looked down at the hissing pool of inkor. "They are black-blooded monstrosities, do not let the foul fluid touch you - Slashing and piercing their bodies will endanger you. A heavy blunt weapon would be best, or attacking at ranges greater then 10ft away - kill them quickly before whatever is within them has time to mature! - If you have if, pour holy water upon the corpses so that they may not turn, or be defiled." - V'Sal struck the creature with the butt of her weapon and shouted out at the others. " You heard the man! We need to kill these things before this gets any worse!"

[Pertenetator]

Yasha let go of the undead's half crushed skull, switching her posture so she could get a better view of the undead. THe first strike found him on her , aiming to break it's ribcage. THe second was a devastating uppercut meant to shatter it's jaw. The third one came down on his skull to break it and hopefully kill it.

Meanwhile, Skrat flew above the undead, charging down of the soldier near V'sal, it's talons cald in a dark light.


Yasha switches Iron Hand Stance for Broken Blade Stance (+6 to acrobating checks to avoid AoO, one more attack at full attack at her maximum BaB

At her turn she lets go of the grapple as a free action (since the archer acts before her he is still grappled when she acts) and Full attack him

[roll0] [roll1] damage
[roll2] [roll3]
[roll4] [roll5]

Skrat flies to C 14 and initiates Dogpile Strike at undead soldier 5
[roll6]
damage [roll7] plus [roll8]

As he initiates it, GLoom surrounds Yasha once more

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM

The Ramparts: Round 4
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Initiative Order
A'Seere (Alpha) [44] - Done
Miles (1d20+11)[24] - Pending
Fargo [21] -Done
Kravor [21]) - Done
Penance [21] - Done
Undead Soldier (5) +1 (1d20+1)[20] - Pending
Desril [19] - Pending
Revelry [18] - Done
Anzor Initiative: (1d20+8)[18] - Done
Undead Soldier )4) +1 (1d20+1)[14]
Undead Archer (6) +3 (1d20+3)[13]
V'Sal +9 (1d20+9)[11]
Undead Soldier (3) +1 (1d20+1)[11]
Yasha [8]
Undead Archer (1) +3 (1d20+3)[4]
Undead Soldier (2) +1 (1d20+1)[4]

The party emerged once again upon the Bastion once more. Fargo and Kravor quickly saw the battle about them, and the not-so-familiar-faces, but they were of little concern next to the frenzied corpses that now burned in a frantic black flaming aura. They seemed, larger, stronger, faster. The crimson flame around their blades intensified into a solid crimson light coating the blade, as if the steel was red-hot from a forge. The fearless orc spun his massive bardiche, a surge of violent power exploded forth from his body like a deep purple destructive flame. With a leap forward, he bounded towards the enemy with a downward crushing blow. The blade struck with such tremendous force, the stone beneath exploded from the force of the mighty blow. The creature raised its sword to guard- black blood splashed upon the massive orc's face as the creature was thrown back into a cloud of dust.

Rubble, bits of cement and pebbles rained down around him, the smoke from the blast choked the air before him. The enemy had been thrown out of sight beneath the mighty blow, yet, after a moment of silence, the dust cleared - the creature came into view, upon one knee, its leg twisted in a disgusting and broken manner with bone protruding from its knee, digging into the earth, while its leg was behind it, spurting fluids from the open fracture. It's arm still was held high, a jagged gash visible in the red-steel. The creature's skull was cloven in, revealing a bowl of grey-matter floating in a cauldron of black inkor and fleshy gore. It's body twitched, splashing some of the foul gore upon the stone. Then it rose.... it's leg seemed to twist and animate, pulled by black liquid-like strings. He'd never seen such a monstrosity... Then he felt the burn, the hiss upon his skin, it was painful. The blood that covered his face was unnaturally cold, freezing his skin. It seemed even striking them was as dangerous as the Knight had said. He readied his weapon. At least it wouldn't be a boring fight, he whipped the blood from his face with a grin.

From the darkness, crimson blades oh phantom light lashed out from high on the wall of the bastion down at the undead archer. The blades slashed into the corpse's body, tossing it about like a rag doll. Black blood sprayed about as the corpse tumbled to the ground with shredded bits of flesh about, but after a moment the creature clawed up, its head touching its shoulder, dangling as if its neck was broken. A line of black drool ran from its limp jaw and open mouth. From above a woman spoke. "Oh. Oh. My goodness. These little beauties are fun, aren't they? -Why don't you ever invite me to your parties, they're always so fun!" The woman held two large dark crystalline blades that glowed with a crimson aura, blood, normal blood was already soaking her tattered garb and skin. Her eyes were wide and crazed, as if numb or senseless. Sister V'Sal moaned in annoyance. " Uhhhhhg, goddamit Revelry, we're kind of busy right now!" She kicked the creature back then smacked it with her musket while looking at which bullets to load next. " We'll deal with you later. " The crazed woman begun to stomp her foot to the stone over and over. "No fair! No fair! No Fair! No Fair! ....No one ignores me. No one is allowed to steal the attention, no, no.. It's mine! -I'll kill you... I'll kill you. I can kill them, right? Right? RIGHT!?"

Penance spun low, punching the corpse with his shield then leading with a light cross with his sword's heavy guard throwing the creature back. He pointed at Revelry with his sword, then to the corpses. "Look at these abominations! Look how all about you pay you no mind! Will you allow such inexcusable behavior to continue!? KILL. THEM. ALL! " She begun to laugh, cackle madly rolling her head back and looking to the grey sky. The crazed attention-craving assassin, lowered her head, with a slight tilt, a wide grin in her eyes. "Yes. Yes. Kill. Them. All. Hehehe." She giggled, as she spun her swords, the other begun to glow powerfully as well, having only had used one hand previously. "I won't be ignored anymore... no more. No more." Here eyes seemed to gain focus, the lackadaisical aimless look in her face was replaced by a stern visage filled with a mind for violence. She leapt forward, the wind pushing her white hair aside, revealing the demonic glow of her right eye.

Revelry of Death
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/%20Revelry%20-%20Copy_zpsith5cmww.png

[Desril]

Desril
HP 118/65
AC 30

Strange...how did I? Looking at his hand and the gooey chunks of dead mage raining down, he remembers the others are in combat, quickly turning his attention to them. No time for that now, I'll figure it out later!

Scanning the battlefield, he spots Yasha struggling with some sort of undead archer. I could fly there in a few seconds, but in this place a few seconds might be too many...guess that just leaves one choice! Calling up his power he slashes his sword, seemingly at empty air before space seems to bend and he appears across from the tiefling, already attacking the undead. "The mages are dealt with, now it's just the fodder."


VR 3/6

Spell Combat:
Void Travel - Dimension Door to E19

Attack [roll0] +4
Damage [roll1] + [roll2] +4
Crit Confirmation: (1d20+16)[28] +4 =[32]
Damage (2d8+18)[30] +4 =[34]

Fort Save DC 25 vs Turned into Ruby

Attack 2 [roll3] +4
Damage [roll4] + [roll5] +4

VR 2/6

Redirect Attack #2 to any appropriate targets.

[The Grue]

Miles

Miles, having narrowly avoided the barrage of swings against him, saw a break in his attackers' onslaught - a chance to act.

"Sister! Flank!" he has just enough time to yell. He seemed then to step down into the long shadows cast by the battlements, and up again behind the undead soldier he'd attacked before, the blade in his hand a gleaming streak of silver as it dove at its mark.

Swift - Spend 1 Arcane Pool point to reallocate dagger enhancement - +1 flaming shocking becomes +3

Full Round - Activate Spring Attack in conjunction with Shadow Step;

Shadow Step to space D14 (Ignore threatened space C12, does not actually cross spaces in between)
Single attack against Undead Soldier 5 (now with flanking!)
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] S/P + [roll2] Precision S/P

[The Grue]

+2 from Heroism not included above; to-hit roll is 26 rather than 24.

[grumblyarcher]

The Waster looked over the distance and spat, breaking into a run as though it were some horrifically distasteful thing he was being forced to do.

Running, in addition to the movement last turn, I'm up to 150ft from my previous position.

Trying to get line of sight on an enemy
[roll0]
Distance rules for perception add a +1 to the DC for every 10ft.

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM

The Ramparts: Round 4
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 23/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 23/53
Fargo: 21/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 113/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 46/64 Hp

Initiative Order
A'Seere (Alpha) [44] - Done
Miles (1d20+11)[24] - Done
Fargo [21] -Done
Kravor [21]) - Done
Penance [21] - Done
----Start
Undead Soldier (5) +1 (1d20+1)[20] - DEAD
Desril [19] - Done
Revelry [18] - Done
Anzor (1d20+8)[18] - Done
Undead Soldier (4) +1 (1d20+1)[14] - Done
Undead Archer (6) +3 (1d20+3)[13] - DEAD
V'Sal +9 (1d20+9)[11] - Done
Undead Soldier (3) +1 (1d20+1)[11] - Done
Yasha [8] - - Waiting
Undead Archer (1) +3 (1d20+3)[4] - Done
Undead Soldier (2) +1 (1d20+1)[4] - Done






Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
56 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
54 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
6 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
8 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Shield
Fargo
2 rounds
Fargo
Shield
+4 AC


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
356 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Blue Scarf
Anzor
3 rounds
Anzor
---
+5 ft reach




Trion: 55/55
Illumination Each: 11
Duration: Permanent
Effect Range: 15ft Aura

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a morale bonus to saving throws against mind-affecting abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +11 bonus)

Raven's Cry 2&3 - Affected allies add energy damage of the candle’s active element’s associated energy type to their melee and ranged attacks, equal to her total class levels. (Current bonus +24 static electric dmg)

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a deflection bonus to their AC equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +11)

Raven's Cry 2 - Affected allies gain immunity to death effects, and gain a bonus on saving throws against psi-like abilities, psionic powers, spell-like abilities, spells, and supernatural abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to the knight-chandler’s Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +11)

Raven's Cry 3 - Affected allies gain a bonus on caster level checks, manifester level checks, and skill checks equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier.(Current +11)

Seeing Miles spring into action, Sister V'Sal went into a sidelong roll as the shadow-thief vanished into the shade and leapt up from the ground. The Sister, fired off a shot, which deflected off its skull. Miles felt his blade shudder in his hands as it bit into the steel curiass and into flesh. A light steam of freezing liquid ran down his knife, a thrust into the creature's back, but- his eyes widened in shock and surprise, seeing how the blade had penetrated steel yet could not pierce deeper into flesh. The blow had been too shallow! The creature howled in a mad frenzy spinning about slashing Miles with the sharpened red-hot steel blade. The sword bit into his shoulder with a horrific hissing as his skin burned and blood boiled. With a agonozing jerk, the blade was ripped from his collar and came about viciously slashing into Sister V'Sal's side, spraying the stone with warm crimson fluid that steamed on the freezing stone. The priestess coughed blood, but pointed behind the thief with a shaking hand- too late. The burning sensation of flaming steel biting into his back shocked him, how could he have missed the creature!? His chest tightened, the smell of burning flesh, his flesh, filled his lungs and made his eyes water. The smoldering of his cauterized wounds puffed out from the gory lacerations on his body. He shook his head and fought the dizzying sensation away, he was stronger then this, he had seen tougher fights before, why were these things so much trouble? The creature spun wildly, with another slash at the scared-knight, Penance. The blade struck with such ferocity, it looked as if the attack that had struck himself had simply been the windup to this blow. The Paladin raised his shield againest the overhead slash, yet the steel was cloven, and cut into his armors shoulder-guard. An expression of silent pain screamed out from the knight's face. He huffed, and grunted, then kicked the creature back, separating the sword from his damaged shield. He staggered back a step, smoke trailing from his wound, then he lifted his shield once more, with a slow and diligent effort, refusing to be defeated. "..Ha....Ugh... Not today filth. I'll not die this day... Not today." He lifted his blade, keeping a tight defensive posture behind his shield as Kravor was embattled with two of the creatures at once. With unnatural reflexes, his spear parried aside, blow after-blow, then spun the weapon sharply about, unleashing a strong-armed riposte sending the creatures back a step, yet unexpectedly a quarrel buffed past the enemy and slammed into his side. He flinched, but made not a sound as the bolt dug into his body. The creatures did not hesitate unleashing a frenzied storm of wild swings - Quickly changing his tactics, he narrowed his grip on his polearm blocking with his buckler and deflecting with either side of his weapon, countering with a sharp blow to on creature, a swift bash with his weapon to the other, but the maddening pace did not cease, they were tireless yet his muscles pumped furiously thrusting, parrying and dodging the blows-

Sister V'Sal pressed a hand to the bleeding wound in her cloven side, trying to staunch the blood. With a quick motion she dropped to a knee with her rifle upright, while dropping a round down the barrel and shoving the bullet down with a telekinetic 'ramrod' from her hand, reloading with one hand while applying pressure with the other. Once the weapon was loaded, she sprung up and backwards into a backwards jump while leveling her weapon and firing at the creature that she had blasted beyond recognition previously - a parting shot of revenge. The bullet nailed the creature square in the brow with a smile on her face as she slammed back into the wall, clearing the distance with her bounding retreat- yet the mirth was short lived...

At the same time the half-fiend cut through the sky, and crashed down from the air, landing a mighty blow that clove the archer Yasha was wrestling with in two. Both of the creatures exploded in a 15ft blast of gore and putrid black, as if a meaty-sack filled with water had exploded. The massive surge of inkor covered the half-fiend and the tiefling in the distance, and splattered upon the many corpses around them. Like-wise, the undead she had shot exploded in similar fashion with a violent burst of gore. The wall of slick inkor splashed out upon Miles, fargo and Penance. The blood showered them, but was immediately impeded by sphere of translucent violet energy. Anzor's brother was thrown by the blast but was narrowly shielded from the wave of gore. The Paladin rolled on the ground shielding his face with his cloven shield, the hiss of the super-cold audible as it met his skin and armor. Anzor, was quicker, flipping sideways as the wave struck him and landing in a skid. One half of his body partially showered with black, and the other normal. Even in such small amount, It burned terribly, like dry ice, the oil and liquid freezing in the skin from its touch. Miles crouched down on reflex and shielded his face, as the blast of gore crushed like a wave of blackened gore. Shielding himself with his garments had blocked most of the blood that showered him as the sphere intercepted the wall of blood, yet he was in terrible pain. This was surly not his day. He staggered, his eyes widening as the corpses covered in the blood begun to melt, black skeletons rising from the bubbling pools, long blades of blackened bone in either hand, sharp a cruel, sheathed in intense flame, this was not his day at all... The true-undead lumbered up from the ground with haunting burning eyes. The priestess cried out from the corner, " The Black-Blood! It's tainted the corpses! Black Skeletons, be wary - The Messenger will make them grow stronger with each creature slain!" Penance quickly regained his footing cursing under his breath "Dammit! I knew we should have tended to the corpses... We'll be overrun if we stay here any longer, we need to regroup! " Then he took note of the sphere of energy that surrounded them, looking about not seeing from where it had come. Anzor heard the recoil of steel as it met the wall of force, his focus had slipped for only a second from the explosion at his back. Had the blow landed, things might have become quite dire.

Desril had been caught in the blast of gore, there was no escaping the wave completely, but he was not caught unawares. With a sharp snap he pointed his hand out just as the creature the priestess had shot exploded. Dropping a shield of void energy upon the desperate group. Yasha looked about as the new enemies begun to rise. Desril unleashed a strong slashing blow with his sword cleaving into the back of the creature's skull. Not willing to let the chance to strike pass, Yasha unleashed a vicious cross-punch into the skeleton's face, breaking off its jaw with her mighty blow. Seeing the other creatures rise from behind, she entered a frantic pace, kicking off from the ground and into a flip to unleash a devastating axe-kick with the heel of her boot before springing into a double footed drop-kick and bounding off the creature from the wall, before rolling back, dashing forward and leading with a leaping uppercut lifting one of the other skeletons off the ground, and grabbing him out of the air in a bear hug, crushing down on the undead creature's black bones.

From high on the wall Revelry laughed madly, at them. "So much fun! So much blood! But look- they brought friends..... you hatched the egg before it was ready. Silly boys shouldn't open their presents before they're ready... right!? " She sharply turned her head grinning at the half-fiend who arrived. As if on cue, gouts of green smoke poured out from the carcass of the dead creatures. Penance looked up in alarm, "DEMON MIST! They're trying to use these hosts to summon demons! Don't let the mists touch you, it can bleed you of life! " Just as he had said, the cloud of green miasma seemed to warp with a twisted face, and toothy distorted visage of smoke.


Scholars and sages still debate on the origins of Demonic Mist - but it is the general opinion that it is the incomplete manifestation of a demon within the Material Plane. Some conjecture it is a representation of chaos unleashed by the denizens of the Abyss. But regardless of its true origins, it is well known to be an evil extraplaner creature, devouring creatures within its gaseous form - consuming life.

One of the creatures formerly battling the orc, turned to Revelry upon the wall, shuffling over and swinging its sword feebly attempting to reach up the 15ft wall. The other black blooded creature slashed again and again at the wall, before finally turning its head to look at the priestess in the corner. The demonic mist from the body she had destroyed crept forward with faces of silent laughter. She was trapped on either side, looking from the left, to the right frantically. " Hey....people.... I could use some help over here!"

The deathly mist shot forth a ray of energy at the half-fiend. A black beam of light - some dark spell, to drain life. It struck him, and dissipated into fragments of dark light, dispelled from his natural resistance to magic. The faces silently gnashed their teeth from the many faces as if in a hungry rage.

IT'S PIKACHU!

The beam of black light was a dangerous and evil spell - Enervation. Being struck by such a beam will deal Negative Level Damage.

The arcane thief fell to his knees, his wounds still smoking. He had had enough. They were all going to die here anyways, it didn't matter. If he had known the damned priest was going to get him dragged into this mess he would have stayed at home. He didn't care anymore, the will to fight draining from his mind- In similar fashion to Prime, his body shattered into shards of blue light dissipating into the sky.

Sister V'Sal screamed out in dismay as the light dissipated into the sky. "NO!" Gazing over the field she shook her head, surrounded, out numbered. Trapped. " ...There's no choice left now, we need help. I'll call for Lady Alexandria! " Penance snarled as if dismissing the idea. "Pfft. Piss on that! I'll not be saved by her again! - We can win, and I'll save them all!" The priestess slammed her fist into the wall in frustration. " Look around you! What about the man who just died!? You couldn't save him, you can't even save yourself!" "I wont loose! We can do this! " Sister V'Sal grit her teeth, looking left and right at the enemies encroaching upon her, "...Your pride is going to get us killed. Fine! But if you get me killed, i'm going to be haunt you!"



-Desril kills Black Blood - Skeletons and Demonic Mist spawns
-V'Sal kills Black Blood - Skeletons and Demonic Mist spawns
-Desril uses Immediate Action (Void Barrier)
- Enemies finish attacks
- Miles has withdrawn from the game
- Waiting for Yasha to act


Combat-Action Tracker


PC-----

[Waiting]

[Pending]

[Done]

[Action] [Summery]

Round 4



A'Seere


++++
Killed Mage


Miles


++++
Attacked Undead


Anzor


++++
Ported Group to Fight


Fargo


++++
Healed


Kravor


++++
Attacked Undead


Waster


++++
Running to Fight


Desril


++++
Killed Archer


Yasha
++++++


(New Action Pending)





Battle Map (5ft Scale)

Map Key
Player Positions:
Scarlet Square (17) - Miles
Yellow Square (11) - Anzor
Pink Square (15) - Yasha

NPCs:
Purple Diamond (3) Sister V'Sal
Pink Diamond (Blank) Penance
Blue Diamond (6) Revelry

Enemies:
Red Diamond (1) - Undead Archer
Red Diamond (2) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (3) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (4) - Undead Soldier
Red Diamond (5) - Undead Soldier - DEAD
Red Diamond (6) - Undead Archer - DEAD
Red Pentagon (1) - Black Skeleton
Red Pentagon (2) - Black Skeleton
Red Pentagon (3) - Black Skeleton
Red Pentagon (4) - Black Skeleton
Red Pentagon (5) - Black Skeleton
Red Pentagon (6) - Black Skeleton
Red Circle (1) - Demonic Mist
Red Circle (2) - Demonic Mist


Other/Misc:
Blue Triangle (Blank) - Corpses
Red X's - Area Enemy Slain
Purple Box - Void Barrier

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R%204.2_zpsvryf7g27.png

[Tuvarkz]

"In the Prince's Name! That's Enervation!" shouted the orc, worried: "Whatever political issues you have with this Alexandria, I don't care! I've dealt with Cheliaxian nobility before, and we need the help now!"
((Rolling for Diplomacy, spending a daily use of Blessed Correction, roll twice and take highest))
[roll0]
[roll1]
While his speech has an apparent success, Kravor reads what's truly happening on the eyes of the two, and realizes his mistake. "WAIT!" he shouts: "If it's gonna cost your life, don't do it! It's most certainly not a good spot for us to be in, but if that trump card of yours is gonna kill you, then save it until the very last moment!"

[Pertenetator]

Yasha 61/65
AC 29

Yasha quickly found herself surrounded by enemies . She had no time to clean the black goop around hersrlf as she rushed to get away before she was surrounded, changing to a more nimble stance. Sidestepping the others, she yelled at Desril to get away as she faced a skelton. Her fiend fist grew light blue as descend on it's ugly skull. Reality itself shattered on it't path, sending THoustands of shards towards the rest of the would be horde

"Don't forget me!" Skrat cackled, following suit with his beak mimicking Yasha's technique as another barrage of glass shards hit the mass of undead

Initiating Broken Blade stance
Dropping the grappled opponent

Moving to E23, two acrobatics checks to avoid AoO [roll0] [roll1]

Initiating Shattered Glass smite At pentagon 4 [roll2] damage [roll3] plus [roll4]

30ft cone hits everything on my west for [roll5]

Skrat flanks the skeleton and activates Obsidian Razor boost and initiates Shattered Glass Smite too

[roll6]
[roll7] damage plus [roll8] damage

another 30ft cones hits the horde there [roll9]

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM

The Ramparts: Round 4
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 23/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 23/53
Fargo: 21/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 111/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 46/64 Hp


"In the Prince's Name! That's Enervation!" shouted the orc, worried: "Whatever political issues you have with this Alexandria, I don't care! I've dealt with Cheliaxian nobility before, and we need the help now!"


The orc yelled out to to paladin and the priestess. Sister V'Sal nodded in agreement. " He's right, we don't need to endanger the lives of others anymore then we have. Father Sipel would understand." Penance looked at the orc with rage in his eyes, then back to Sister V'Sal as she slid out a platinum holy symbol from her blouse. "NO! Don't you do it! " Be looked back and forth between them, his face turning red. "BELIEVE IN ME! We can win this! "

Yasha back-flipped out of the surrounding mob then into a reverse tumble dodging the lashing skeletal monsters as they slashed out at her with flaming blades writhing in black and crimson energies. The weapons were no doubt some how cursed, still without effort she slid through their feeble offensive before leaping up and crashing down with her fist with crushing might. The skeleton she struck head caved in, black splinters showering her as it bounded off her fist and crashed into the stone wall cracking its hard surface. A wave of exploding shards washed out from her strike as a layer of the material plane became corporeal and unleashed a whirlwind of deathly blades. The skeletons were showered with the glass-like fragments, which bounded off them and chipped their hard bones. Without pause, her raven came crashing down imitating the same maneuver, breaking a rib on the same enemy she had struck and unleashing a blast of shades, which noisily bounded harmlessly off the skeletons and Desril, almost completely unscathed while caught in both blasts. The priestess and the knight watched silently for a moment. ".....We're all going to die here. I'm sorry Penance. We can't afford to humor your pride any longer. We can't loose anymore of our Regalia in this place." She raised the platinum symbol in the shape of an axe or large bladed weapon with a large cross guard, making it appear as a bladed-cross. " Blessed Lady. Scion of Righteous Fury! Hear me!" Penance ran forward, beating his fist on the wall of force screaming at her. "STOP IT! I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!" She smiled quietly at him, pausing, then continued. " Saint of Wrath. Lady of Battle. My enemies gather now before me, with lies upon their tongue, and curses upon their lips. My heart is pure, conviction upon my lips - yet my strength is fleeting, unable to save the lambs of my flock from the wolves that gather. With all that I am. With all that I may give..." Penance dropped his shield and begun madly striking at the wall, attempting to pierce the void barrier, screaming madly. " These wolves. They are the dead. The undead. The cursed and dying. They are evil. They are demons. In your name, oh blessed Saint of Righteous Fury. Timeless guardian of wards loved ones. As once were you, I am now powerless to defend those before me. As once were you, am I forced to watch them suffer - Saint Aurella Alexandria! I leave my charge now to you! - Accept my sacrifice!"

Dropping her musket to the ground, she grasped the holy symbol in both hands as if she were grasping some sacrificial dagger- then Kravor's words rang out over them. An expression of shock on her face, as if asking herself how could he know? - Penance didn't miss the change. "He's right! Does this look like it is over!? Do you think you could have saved those who have already fallen!? Alexandria will not heed the call of a coward! Not while there is still power within those hands, to resist! To Defend! Or are you just a tool!? How many will martyr themselves become they realize the pain of those they've left behind? Is the worth of one life weighed in salt!? Tell me! Would Saint Alexandria answer the call of one who does not hold value in her own life - then what 'sacrifice' is that!? FIGHT! FIGHT ON! TIL YOUR LAST BREATH! Any less, is but an affront to The Righteous Saints!"

She lowered the cross, with tears in here eyes, dropping the holy symbol, she nodded. " .....Ok. We'll fight - til the end." She kicked up her rifle, and took it in hand.

Round 4 Ends

[Tuvarkz]

Protected by the wall of force, Kravor took a moment to patch himself up before returning to combat, saying in a cynical manner: "We really have to discuss religious philosophy when we get out of here!"

Enter Stance of the Defending Shield as swift action (Shield bonus to AC improved by an additional +2); CLW on self as standard.
[roll0]

[grumblyarcher]

He could see the enemy again, that was a good sign. The bad sign was how quickly the others had made a mess of the situation. Really, he should have expected it, what with them running in to wave swords and spells around like a bunch of children with sticks. Some kind of rubbish with walking corpses and evil fog was happening ahead. Time to get to work.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]
[roll3]

[roll4]
[roll5]

[OzzyKP]

Fargo - Round 5

Fargo threw up his hands to shield himself from the spray of unholy ichor exploding from the defeated undead creature, and then cautiously lowered them as no blood came. A forcefield! He was very pleased. Things were starting to look dire, but this will give them all a chance to recover and prepare. He

removed a wand from the haversack and cast Bless Weapon on Anzor's rapier.

"Go get 'em, brother," he said.

He then swiftly healed himself one more time.


Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)----------
AC 45 - (10 base, +1 DEX, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot from chaos, +3 Aegis, +11 raven)
HP: 21 (-10 flame, -8 flame, -3 vile, -4 vile, +3 LoH, +5 CLW, +4 LoH, +3 CLW)

Lay on Hands (on self): [roll0]

Move - Takes Bless Weapon wand from haversack
Standard - Uses wand on Anzor - rapier is good aligned
Swift - Uses Lay on Hands on self




Anzor - Round 5

With a smirk and a nod, Anzor responded to his brother with some false modesty, "I'll see what I can do."

With that he further enhanced his blade and popped outside of the force bubble. In a flurry of stabs and slashes he threw himself at their undead foes. His blinding speed and athleticism were in full display. He just hoped it would be enough and that unlike the last foes, these would have less deadly consequences for success.


Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------
AC: 47 (10 base, +6 armor, +2 shield, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot chaos, +3 aegis, +11 raven)
HP: 23 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH)

Mainhand Attack Spellstrike [roll1] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll2] +24 electricity (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment)
Grasp of Darkness Damage [roll3]

Offhand Attack Spellstrike [roll4] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll5]+24 electricity (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment)


Mainhand Crit Confirm:
Mainhand Attack [roll6] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll7] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment)
Grasp of Darkness Damage [roll8]

Offhand Crit Confirm:
Offhand Attack [roll9] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll10] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment)


Mainhand Attack #1 [roll11] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll12] +24 electricity(+8 DEX, +3 enchantment)

Offhand Attack #1 [roll13] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll14] +24 electricity(+4 DEX, +1 enchantment)


Mainhand Crit Confirm:
Mainhand Attack [roll15] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll16] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment)

Offhand Crit Confirm:
Offhand Attack [roll17] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll18] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment)


Mainhand Attack #2 [roll19] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll20] +24 electricity(+8 DEX, +3 enchantment)

Offhand Attack #2 [roll21] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll22] +24 electricity(+4 DEX, +1 enchantment)


Mainhand Crit Confirm:
Mainhand Attack [roll23] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll24] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment)

Offhand Crit Confirm:
Offhand Attack [roll25] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism)
Rapier Damage [roll26] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment)


Swift - Spend 1 arcane pool point to give rapier a +2 enhancement for 6 min
Free - Spent 1 mote of time for another swift action
Swift - Dimension Door to go out and attack and come back (can move 60 ft and divide it among jumps after every attack)
Full Attack - two attacks with each hand & spellstrike (with two more attacks) and casts grasp of darkness

He makes his spellstrike attack vs. the mist demon. If it misses, he holds the spell charge and tries again with his next attack (and does it again if that misses as well).

If the spellstrike hits, then he spends his mundane attacks on the baddie in A14 until it is dead, and then against C15 till it is dead. If he kills anything he gets a cleave attack (with R stabby & L stabby), but I'll roll those in OCC once I find out what this attack did.






Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
57 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
55 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
7 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
9 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Shield
Fargo
3 rounds
Fargo
Shield
+4 AC


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
357 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Blue Scarf
Anzor
4 rounds
Anzor
---
+5 ft reach


Bless Weapon
Fargo
60 rounds
Anzor's rapier
---
Good aligned


Arcane Pool
Anzor
36 rounds
Anzor's Rapier
Enhancement
+2 attack & damage


Raven's Cry 1
A'Seere
Always
Everyone in 15 ft
Morale
+11 vs. mind-affecting


Raven's Cry 2&3
A'Seere
Always
Everyone in 15 ft
---
+24 elec damage


Raven's Cry 1
A'Seere
Always
Everyone in 15 ft
Deflection
+11 AC


Raven's Cry 2
A'Seere
Always
Everyone in 15 ft
---
Immunity to death, +11 saves


Raven's Cry 3
A'Seere
Always
Everyone in 15 ft
---
+11 skill, caster lvl & manifester lvl

[Desril]

Desril
HP 111/65
AC 41

"Yasha, move! I'm blowing these things to the Abyss, there's no time for games, this is too dangerous!"

True to his word, he dashes into position and holds out his hand once more, channeling what remains of his power into his open palm as a dark orb coalesces briefly before an enormous wave of energy engulfs the undead and part of his own barrier.




Fly to G23 (acrobatics to avoid AoO[roll]1d20+20[roll]

Empowered Void Blast along shown path, destroy everything east of the barrier, ref DC 21 half, (6d10+54)[84]

(VR 0/6)

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:16 AM

The Ramparts: Round 5
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 111/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp



Initiative Order
-------Start***
A'Seere (Alpha) [44] - Done
Waster [35] - Done
Black #3 (1d20+8)[28] - DEAD
Black #4 (1d20+8)[27] - DEAD
Fargo [21] -Done
Kravor [21]) - Done
Penance [21] - Done
Undead Soldier (5) +1 (1d20+1)[20] - DEAD
Black #1 (1d20+8)[19] -DEAD
Desril [19] - Pending
Revelry [18] - Pending
Anzor (1d20+8)[18] - Pending
Demonic Mist #1 (1d20+9)[15] - Pending
-------Stop***

Undead Soldier (4) +1 (1d20+1)[14] - X -X
Undead Archer (6) +3 (1d20+3)[13] - DEAD
V'Sal +9 (1d20+9)[11] - X
Undead Soldier (3) +1 (1d20+1)[11] - X
Black #2 (1d20+8)[10] -X
Yasha [8] - - Waiting
Undead Archer (1) +3 (1d20+3)[4] - X
Undead Soldier (2) +1 (1d20+1)[4] - X

The giant ravens stormed out above the Bastion spreading out over the party. The black aura begun to pulsate around them once more, they could feel a surge of thundering electricity pour into their body, the air distorted around them, as if being repulsed by the field of energy. The nameless gunman, Waster, strode up upon the Bastion watching the mad scramble of battle. It was crude and tactless, amateurs... the lot of em. Something about watching fools run about swinging steel, and slinging spells while running into - what was obviously some kind of corpse-filled-death-trap didn't settle well in his mind. They weren't working 'together', as much as they were working 'around another'. The foul smell of the putrid flesh and gore, and the sight of the bloodied and wounded possy behind the 'bubble-shield' might have made him smirk. He felt a tangle in his hands as the raven's passed overhead, like some dark harbingers. Freakish black skeletons, mutilated blackened corpses.... clouds of, some foul looking origin. Just another day... He lowered his hand to his weapon, feeling a bolt of electricity run into his firearm, a slight vibration in his palm from the store of elemental power running through him. He snapped out his weapon, and fanned the hammer- once. The explosive recoil sent him skidding back as the shot strayed high - a blazing blue beam of thundering light... Things had gotten interesting. He steadied his aim and braced his shoulder with his other hand quickly firing off two more shots at the demonic cloud. The blazing electric energy pierced the fog, one beam passed harmlessly through it and collided with the wall in the far distance, while the other blasted the demon spraying a shower of sparks and light, a buzz of energy humming in the air as the weapon discharged. The faces writhed and shook back and forth in the cloud as if it was having a seizure. IT diminished in size, beginning to smoke - more more ought to do it...

The black Skeletons surrounding the half-fiend and the tiefling, twitched shaking off the recent damage to them from the wave of shattered reality. With a wordless, clacking of their jaws, they all begun charging forth towards Yasha. The Skeleton she had so recently smashed in the skull, spun its blades and came upon her as well with a flurry of blows- Things slowed in her mind, as she took account of the two enemies racing forth and the skeleton attacking her.... He was first. With an iron palm, she violently burst forward with a crushing uppercut seeing an opening, disrupting its hail of attacks. An explosion of energy lifted the thing off the ground as a bolt of energy burst from her fist. She side stepped, while grabbing firm hold of one of the creature's thin arms, ripping it from the air and shoulder tossing it 10ft into the wall. The creature exploded into pieces, jolts of electric energy leaping between the broken bones. She sharply spun without pause into a flying roundhouse-kick the the first creature's skull, an explosion of light sent the creature hurtling threw the air in pieces - not loosing her momentum, she landed, and maintained her spin, catching the skeleton in a ferocious right-cross, that lifted it off the ground, and continued to spin with her. With a war-cry she slammed her fist, and the creature's skull into the ground with a blast of blue light and shattered stone. She looked about herself in surprise, it had seemed to take them so long to defeat even one of these creatures, yet now she had defeated 3 in the blink of an eye. She looked down at her glowing fists, humming and crackling with elemental energy. This was a power she could get used to...

Penance, Kravor and Fargo made preparations from within the bubble. Fargo used his wand while the group went about mending their wounds. "It appears we will be behind this field for some time. We should recover while we are able. If Demonic Mist is coming from these creatures, I dread to think of Vephar's true intentions. Though... that Messenger above, the one granting fire to our enemies - that is not Vephar. Her blessings are far different. I fear, this may actually be a trap, or some kind of distraction - or both? I know not who that Messenger of flame even is. The three-raven's above however, must be your companion, one of The Regalia... would not have thought a former enemy would now be an ally. I wonder what kind of monstrous creature they truly appear as... " He lifted the holy symbol on his gauntlet overhead, a blast of radient golden light filled the bubble healing the group. He placed a glowing hand on Kravor's back, healing him. "Consider this my thanks for realizing your err and correcting it before it was too late."


Channel - All in bubble Heal - [5]
Lay On Hands @ Kravor - [12]







Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
55 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
53 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
5 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
7 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Shield
Fargo
1 rounds
Fargo
Shield
+4 AC


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
355 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Blue Scarf
Anzor
2 rounds
Anzor
---
+5 ft reach




Trion: 55/55
Illumination Each: 12
Duration: Permanent
Effect Range: 15ft Aura

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a morale bonus to saving throws against mind-affecting abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +12 bonus)

Raven's Cry 2&3 - Affected allies add energy damage of the candle’s active element’s associated energy type to their melee and ranged attacks, equal to her total class levels. (Current bonus +24 static electric dmg)

Raven's Cry 1 - Affected allies gain a deflection bonus to their AC equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +12)

Raven's Cry 2 - Affected allies gain immunity to death effects, and gain a bonus on saving throws against psi-like abilities, psionic powers, spell-like abilities, spells, and supernatural abilities equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, to a maximum bonus equal to the knight-chandler’s Wisdom or Dexterity modifier. (Current +12)

Raven's Cry 3 - Affected allies gain a bonus on caster level checks, manifester level checks, and skill checks equal to the Dark Messenger’s illumination, up to a maximum bonus equal to her Wisdom or Dexterity modifier.(Current +12)

Combat-Action Tracker


PC-----
[Waiting]
[Pending]
[Done]
[Action] [Summery]
Round 5


A'Seere


++++
Moved to Grp


---------
DEAD
DEAD
DEAD
DEAD


Anzor

++++

(Going To Atk)


Fargo


++++
Healed/Buffed


Kravor


++++
Healed


Waster


++++
Shot Demon


Desril

++++

(Lazor Beams)


Yasha
++++++


(Action Pending)



Battle Map: Round 5/Part 1

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R%205.1_zpsei2pi9yu.png

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:17 AM

The Ramparts: Round 5 (Part 2)
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 111/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp


Initiative Order
-------Start***
A'Seere (Alpha) [44] - Done
Waster [35] - Done
Black (1d20+8)[28] - DEAD
Black (1d20+8)[27] - DEAD
Fargo [21] -Done
Kravor [21]) - Done
Penance [21] - Done
Undead Soldier (5) +1 (1d20+1)[20] - DEAD
Black #1 (1d20+8)[19] -DEAD
Desril [19] - Pending
Revelry [18] - Pending
Anzor (1d20+8)[18] - Pending
Demonic Mist #1 (1d20+9)[15] - DEAD
-------Stop***

Undead Soldier (4) +1 (1d20+1)[14] - X -DEAD
Undead Archer (6) +3 (1d20+3)[13] - DEAD
V'Sal +9 (1d20+9)[11] - X
Undead Soldier +1 (1d20+1)[11] - DEAD
Black #2 (1d20+8)[10] -X
Yasha [8] - - Waiting
Undead Archer +3 (1d20+3)[4] - DEAD
Undead Soldier +1 (1d20+1)[4] - DEAD

Desril took to the sky, seizing the initiative - there was not much left in his reservoirs of void energy, he had expended so much just reaching here, the fatigue of burning so much energy was beginning to set in. Even still, he had one last shot left in him before his energy would run dry and he would need to recover his energy stores. Weaving through the clumsy attacks, he landed across the rampart walkway with his back to the wall. Focusing all his remaining energy into his palm, a black light begun to build, slowly emitting a violet hue then- soundlessly, a great beam of swirling umbral energy crashed out into the world, a distorting wave blasted out with the beam, bending time and space around the powerful attack's path. The void-beam disintegrated corpse and enemy alike in its path, silently leaving a clearing of smoking charred stone. After the flash diminished, one of the nearby creatures smoking and twitching clawed up from the ground. In the distance a half melted skeleton shuddered and stepped forward through the smoking stone, before being promptly cut down by the nimble halfling, landing a quick strike to the creature's misshapen skull with his weapons pommel before kicking off the wall and unleashing a flurry of blows upon the screaming faces of the demonic mist. His blade pierced through it twice, before it felt the solid bite of the spectral creature's face. He landed as the creature dissipated into a greenish miasma and passed into the air.


Desril
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/r%205.2%20-%20pre_zpscaxvitpr.png

Anzor
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R%205.2%20pre%202_zpsvyrtrwdd.png

Revelry laughed madly at the display looking down from the 20ft wall of the bastion tower as if watching some theatre's play. "So much fun! So much fun! Aren't you glad we came!? " She faced the sky, and the dark raven that circled overhead, the azure blue lights of the slain enemies souls gathering about the grim messengers above. "...AREN'T YOU!?" She through her head back and land laughed insanely as she sharply spun in a blindingly quick motion, her blades extended out to 30ft cleaving blades of cruel crimson light. The first storm storm of blows shredded the black-blooded archer's corpse causing it to explode in a wave of black gore, then the creature below was caught in the blender of blades of the mad-assassin. Black flowers of blood bloomed below her splattering the corpses that still littered the field. "Yes! Yes! Rise my pretties! We're not done playing yet! No, no, no. Not yet! " The crimson beams of light retracted back to her blades as her death-dance ended - she threw a twisted sidelong grin at the half-fiend. "Oh. Are you getting tired already? Hehe. There is still more fun to be had. Yes. Yes! Lots more. You must fight more! You must kill, more! You must feed The Masters more!" She giggled while licking the blood from her blades. "Oh yes. So much more. Didn't you hear My Lady? So much more! We must kill them all. All. All of them. The enemy below the streets. The enemy lurking in the north. The enemy creeping up from the sea! We must kill them all! You will. We will. All of them. No survivors! Haha. But what do we do with the children? Maybe they die to? The old priest will know. Yes. I must ask him, hehe. Then they'll only look at me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Only me... Hehehe." - Sister V'Sal flipped her weapon, reloaded it in a single motion while having already fired off a shot while Revelry went on her mad rant. The explosive energy beam lifted one of the new black skeletons off the ground and vaporized it. The Demonic Mist from the bodies, rather then materializing turned to vapor and ascended above as if they had been slain the moment they came into the world. . " Goddamit Revelry! You know where the enemy was attacking from and only mention it NOW!? Where are they coming from? " She fired off another shot, flipping her weapon, the beam blasting half of another skeleton into bits of shattered bone. "Yes. Yes! My Lady Death, spreaks to her Revelry! Hehe. Only to me... only me. An enemy from below. An enemy from the sea. And an enemy, one of our own to creep upon thee! Hehehe! - But first, we must defeat he, them and those, who still call from darkness upon the high tower! Yes! Yes! That is why I am here. Revelry knows what The Messengers seek." - Sister V'Sal's face was red and fuming with impatience as she shot off another beam from her musket, obliterating another skeleton. . " ....What does that even mean!? " Penance shouted out from behind the shield, "There's no point trying to unravel that mess inside her skull. Only Father Sipel knows what her rants mean, but from the sound of it - We need to finish here quickly and get to The Triodea to translate this nonsense and head off the enemy. - But firstly, it sounds like she came to kill something larger then these things. We best prepare for the worst, I've never had a pleasant experience with that woman around." Revelry giggled from the top of the wall, looking up at the sky.


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R%205.2%20pre%203_zpsddtbxkyc.png


Current Battle Map:

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/R%205.2%20Pre%204_zpsueylmidn.png


Combat-Action Tracker


PC-----
[Waiting]
[Pending]
[Done]
[Action] [Summery]
Round 5


A'Seere


++++
Moved to Grp


---------
DEAD
DEAD
DEAD
DEAD


Anzor


++++
Kill Demon/Skele


Fargo


++++
Healed/Buffed


Kravor


++++
Healed


Waster


++++
Shot Demon


Desril


++++
Lazor Beams


Yasha
++++++


(Action Pending)

[Pertenetator]

"Well she doesn't seem like a bastion of sanity and reason, but that hardly applies to any of us, though not to such extend " Yasha shrugged, throwing a dark orb to the remaining skeleton as she finally had enough time to clean herself up from the black sludge , while chugging down a potion, a light blue aura surrounding her.


Drk CLaim the skeleton besides Desril
Move action to clean the sludge
Standard action to drink a potion of Protection From Evil

[Mornings]

...Moments Before


The Encounter
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: Kenabres; The Great Chapel - 6:16 AM

The 'Red-Priest' had been here, just as Father Sipel had said to her. The chapel was large and occupied by many of the faithful. Clerics and knights, sworn to fight against the foul creatures of The World-Wound. Yet unlike those who bore the holy sword of Iomedae, the 'Red-Priest' carried the holy winged-sword sigil of Ragathiel upon his neck, and upon holy bastard sword's hilt.

He stood as she approached, expecting her this day. The man's brown hair fell over his eyes, and his red scarf covered his lower face, giving him a somewhat mysterious appearance. There was no doubt he was her liaison with The Regalia - if the Father's words had been true, then the battle had already begun this day, the others waiting. The Red-Priest nodded silently as they approached a large polished mirror together. It was without reflection, yet after a short while, she could see the images of battle upon city ramparts in some large coastal city far to the south. "Your Brothers and Sisters are already embattled upon The High Tower. A great evil will soon be upon them. Make your preparations now, and aid the warriors of Dawn. You must tell them to leave The High Tower, and take to the streets, or ramparts, or they will be overrun by the wrath of those they have defeated. The Dark Messenger, the Raven, that aids the enemy will not move away from the gate. Lure the enemy from The Tower and the Raven, then strike while they are unaided."

"A priestess has been sent to warn them of this by the Father, but I fear she will not make it in time. When you are ready, touch the mirror." The Red-Priest slightly bowed then walked away, leaving Alerdene where she was.
Alerdene has 1 minute worth of time to buff/etc
**********

After she finished with her preparations, she touched the mirror, prepared for battle.



The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:17 AM

The Ramparts: Round 5 (Part 3)
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 109/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15
Alerdene: 54/54

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp
Revelry: 68/68 Hp

The halfling teleported back inside the shield after the enemies had been finished. The black aura around the remaining skeletons exploded into a dark whirlwind of energy as the souls of the dead were harvested above by the ravens. The could feel their own energy grow as well - but it appeared the enemy and their own support-magic were equally matched. Penance shook his head at Yasha, "She's mad, yes - but made so by the many things she has seen. It is difficult to sort through the nonsense and fact without Father Sipel." He looked above as a jolt of golden light strike the air and a masked woman emerged flying 20ft from the ground. "Heh, another Regalia? Seem's our luck isn't out just yet - Be wary warrior, the enemy is much stronger then they appear!" The black skeletons shrouded in black whirling energy clacked their bones and gnashed their jaws as if laughing in protest while lifting their burning red blades in the air and creeping forward.

The blood on Desril's skin, silently hissed as it begun to freeze his skin.


Combat-Action Tracker


PC-----
[Waiting]
[Pending]
[Done]
[Action] [Summery]
Round 5


A'Seere


++++
Moved to Grp


Alerdene
++++++


(Pending Action)



Anzor


++++
Kill Demon/Skele


Fargo


++++
Healed/Buffed


Kravor


++++
Healed


Waster


++++
Shot Demon


Desril


++++
Lazor Beams


Yasha


++++
Clear off Blood

[ICN]

Alerdene takes a moment to survey the battlefield and cracks her neck, ghostly blades swirling around her. "Showtime." Elemental energy flares up around her as she sends a blade streaking towards a nearby skeleton with a casual flick of her wrist, then turns to address the rest of the group. "Oi, the 'Red Priest' sends a message." While Alerdene relates the information she was given, she sends out a small spark of power, wreathing the defenders in shadows.

HP:53 AC:43 (10 base, +10 Wis, +2 Dex, +9 armor, +1 dodge, +1 insight, +1 deflection, +4 natural armor, +4 stance, +1 Haste)
Free action: Martial Glyph: Elemental Weapon on Alerdene
Standard action: Elemental Strike at the skeleton at e-5 (Reflex save DC 22 or be knocked prone.)
Attack roll: [roll0] (+6 BAB, +10 Wis, +1 high ground, +1 Haste, +1 trait, +1 bracers, +2 enhancement, +1 PBS, -2 deadly aim)
Damage: [roll1] Bludgeoning (+10 Wis, +2 enhancement, +4 deadly aim, +1 PBS) + [roll2] Electric (2d6 stance, +2d6 strike, +1d6 EW)
Critical Confirmation (19-20): [roll3]
Critical Damage: [roll4]
Move action: Cast Elemental Glyph: Darkness on PCs + V'sal and Penance (Think that makes 10, correct me if I'm wrong). Gives concealment, negated by True Seeing but not by darkvision.
Swift action: Martial Glyph: Deflective Armor on Alerdene
Maneuver randomization: [roll5]




Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
55 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
53 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
5 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
7 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Shield
Fargo
1 rounds
Fargo
Shield
+4 AC


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
355 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Blue Scarf
Anzor
2 rounds
Anzor
---
+5 ft reach


Time Skitter
Alerdene
10 rounds
Alerdene
---
Haste spell


Combat Precognition
Alerdene
10 rounds
Alerdene
---
Enemies roll twice, take lower result on attack rolls


Darkness Glyph
Alerdene
11 rounds
PCs+V'sal&Penance
---
Concealment


Elemental Weapon
Alerdene
11 rounds
Alerdene
---
+1d6 electrical damage


Deflective Armor
Alerdene
11 rounds
Alerdene
---
+3 natural armor


Fly
Alerdene
300 rounds
Alerdene
---
Fly spell

[Desril]

Desril
HP 109/65*
AC 41

Seeing their half of the battlefield cleared, the half-fiend smirked as Revelry obliterated some of the remaining foes...until she opened her mouth, causing the smirk to flip to a scowl. "This isn't the time for break downs or games! If you want to get off on the bloodshed, fine, but stay coherent! If you're just a babbling loon, you're a liability, not an asset, no matter what you can do with those blades!"

Not that I can do anything about that now, we've more pressing matters to tend to. I should probably clear off this blood too when I've a moment...though it's hardly a threat to me directly.

Beginning to focus his energy and restore his power, he growls out to Yasha, "I need a few moments to focus, the others are safe inside my barrier though, so don't do anything rash!"


Knowledge Religion to figure out the important bits about what Revelry was saying rolled in OOC (35)

Power of Opposition: Consuming 2 SP (10/14 remaining) to restore 3 VR (3/6 now)

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:17 AM

The Ramparts: Round 5 (Part 4)
Storming the Ramparts (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 109/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15
Alerdene: 54/54

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp
Revelry: 68/68 Hp

The masked stranger in the sky above shouted down to the defenders the words the Red-Priest had shared with her. Penance looked through the sphere's translucent wall at Sister V'Sal. "A priestess was dispatched? This does not sound like it bodes well for us. Let us heed the priest's words, I've no desire to be caught in the middle of another predicament..." The priestess nodded as Alerdene unleashed a blade of elemental energy down upon the skeleton below, it surged and expanded with a crackling wave of roaring thunder as it exploded into the creature. Bones and shards of blackened marrow were cast about as the creature was instantly obliterated, leaving a buzzing crater of electric energy where the undead minion had once been...

The blue wisp-like soul of the enemy drifted into the air like a blue flame... then a dozen black angry talons tore into it, splitting it into fragments of light as the spectral ravens above shredded the phantasmal body. Shards of glimmering light surrounded them, the strength within each of them increased - the whirl of the black storms around the skeletons intensified. Desril looked on at it all, a calm yet bewildered thought at the sight.... until something clicked. Revelry laughed madly from above the wall, dancing about in circles waving her dark curved blades. "...HAHAHA=HEHEHE SO PRETTY! Yes! Dance little lights, dance fearful souls! Dance, all together! The last have gathered~ The victims herded~ To come come together, to suffer and die~ Your mourning cries, your fears will be heeded, to come together and share, suffer and strife~ Your little song, was all wrong, but we've laughed for far to long~ Yes, yes. Come. Die. Rise. Die - then share again, tonight, tonight! "

It was something in her words that made Desril take in the scene about him, the unusual scene... the souls above, the clattering of risen enemies born from the slain guardsmen, who once defended this very wall - the inbalance of it all. Souls dismembered, scattered and herded by the haunting ravens above. It was unnatural... Then the ranting of the mad-assassin began to make sense.


A rare and haunting existence comprised of the souls and minds of many who had died is misery and terror en-mass. When circumstances were right, the minds of those denied peace in death could come together again. A creature similar in physical composition, yet far more foul then Demonic Mist. A true terror, neither undead, nor incorporeal, it was an abomination created from the mass death of the restless. A Caller in Darkness was a fearsome foe, said, to come in forms both terrible and simple. It was a single entity comprised of dozens of tortured minds, and soulstuff of the dead who had not been permitted passage into the otherworld beyond. It was a thing driven by hatred which consumed the life-essence and fears of the living, commanding terrible power from the joint minds of those who comprised its existence. To die to such a creature, is to be cursed to forever join the hive-mind of the ever-devouring abomination.

Looking at the many souls above and the harvest they had brought by slaying the enemy, and slaying the enemies their enemies had spawned - he was without doubt, such a creature could be born even without counting the hundreds of guards and cultists who had died in terror outside the gate as they had approached. One could only imagine how foul a creature would be if all of the victims had been gathered and allowed to be reborn as such a monstrous entity.

The raven who had harvested the hundreds of souls had quickly taken to the sky after the event, not seen again.... Perhaps the well-dressed man was right, perhaps Father Sipel had been on to something. Perhaps they were playing into Vephar's plans. If the words of the Red-Priest, a man she had heard of from the old priest, were true... then staying where they were now, was not an advantageous position. He could only imagine the untold destruction a Caller in Darkness forged from an army of dead, and fueled by the fury of their recently slain enemy could unleash... It was time to plan for the worst. As Revelry had hinted upon, a true battle was coming, and they could use all the help they could manage.


Round 5 Ends

[Desril]

Desril

"Oh to the Abyss with all of this!" Glaring up at Revelry as realization dawns on him he swears and calls out to the others as he dismisses the barrier with a wave of his hand and calls upon a spell to hasten his movements. "We've got another problem! With everyone who died here in as much pain and terror as they were, it's likely to spawn a Caller in Darkness! Big, nasty, incorporeal undead! We could deal with the run of the mill kind, but there's no way to tell how powerful it will be before it's born, so it might be best if we made a tactical withdraw to assess our foe before we charge in, otherwise I can't promise anyone still standing will survive!"


Glaring once more at Revelry as he slashes at the nearest skeleton, "Quit your mad cackling and do something about it! There are too many people around to let a Caller in Darkness be born, do you not care about how much harm it could do!?"


Free action; Dismiss Barrier

Spell Combat;

Haste + Ascendent Spell + Extend Spell + No-concentration = 2 SP, 12 rounds of Mythic Haste, self only.

Attack Skeleton 2 [roll0]
Damage [roll1] + [roll2]

Attack 2 [roll3]
Damage [roll4] + [roll5]

Assuming it dies, I use my bonus move action to fly to 10 ft above G11

[Tuvarkz]

"Everyone, retreat!" shouted the half-orc knight, as he started moving from where he had arrived, readying himself for the undead onslaught.

Move to E17, Swift to use Bane, choosing undead as target. Standard to recover Iron Shell.

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:17 AM

The Ramparts: Round 6 (Part 1)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 109/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15
Alerdene: 54/54

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp
Revelry: 68/68 Hp

The skeleton seemed to gaze off like some idle construct, unmoving. Desril's blade came hammering down on the creature, cleaving into its rib cage and taking off an arm. Still, it was without response. He hacked again, cutting off a leg, then bringing his blade about to split its skull as he lifted his other hand to dismiss his barrier. He was disquieted by the easy kill from his half-planned blows. The creature could have easily fended off two of the blows he had readied and unleashed like he was swinging a heavy spear. The other skeletons were motionless as well, the soul-light of the creature he had slain rose up into the air dancing brilliantly before the ravens set upon it again, tearing it to pieces. What was going on?

Penance shrugged off the burning blows that still hindered his arms and rushed forward toward the cleared out passage to the ramparts. Sister V'Sal was close behind him, keeping close to the wall as she readied another round in her weapon. "..Damn, why didn't I see it before. Under these conditions, we'd only be feeding the enemy if a Caller in Darkness was created here - Sister, we should get distance from this place, where the enemy is strongest and head to the East-Bastion. Are the Clerics still manning it? " She nodded as she finished quickly checking over her weapon. "The Clerics of High Tower still man their posts on all of the East Bastions. Shall I give them the signal?" - Penance nodded, "Do it." The priestess, slipped out a pistol and pointed it to the sky at an angle, firing a brightly glowing golden flare. A similar flare rose up in the distance from the bastion's in the direction they faced, progressively rising from each of them. "The priests are with us. We should move qui- " A bolt of blue energy struck down from the air, striking one of the skeletons squarely, vaporizing it. It's soul begun to rise as well before the ravens tore at it. Penance looked at the others at over to Desril as he crossed the threashold of the bastion. " I must say, you Regalia get more interesting with each lot, but I'm glad you're here. It looks like your observation may be correct. If that is the case, that would likely mean we've spent perhaps the better part of a minute feeding one Messenger, while Vephar is coming back down to crush us with her own. Quite troublesome. I don't care how many of those laser's you have left, fighting two-Messenger's at once is suicide without more of you, or at least more priests. We need to at the very least separate them, or leave their effective range so we can deal with the minions without having to contend with the Messengers. We should take this chance and make a run for High Tower, the large bastion you came from. Now that the Clerics have seen our signal we stand a much better chance if we can get there. " Sister V'sal nodded while averting her eyes. "What is it?" - she shook her head. "...No. It's nothing. Let's move quickly." The large orc came bounding back withdrawing from the enemy as Revelry danced and spun with graceful leaps above towards the group, then she rolled and landed on her knees, looking down at the group, her head poking over the 20ft wall sheepishly. She whispered at the half-fiend as if she thought she was a ghost, or under the effect of some form of invisibility magic. "...Look at meee~ " then she sharply pulled back behind the wall and started giggling hysterically as if she had fooled someone. She poked her head back over the wall again - "...You can hear them too, can't you? The Dream-People? Don't worry if they die. They're not real anyways... no, no. Not at all. You must be so confused, like me, I was confused. But it's okay now. I'm real too. Hehe. " She pulled back behind the ledge of the wall as if hiding from the 'dream-people'. "...Not again." Sister V'Sal shook her head. The knight, Penance shrugged looking at Desril. "...We, still haven't found out what that means yet. But we're afraid it might mean, she likes you. We 'dream people' tend to be ignored, the 'real people' tend to get more 'attention' then what's welcomed. Try not to play into her little fantasy's, you'll only make it worse." The mad-assassin leaned over the ledge, pressing her finger to her lips " Shhhh, Shhh, Shh... Don't listen to the Dream-People, they'll let the others inside your head. Then you can't get the voices out. It's not their fault though, no, no no. It's the others, the scary ones, the dark things. Hiding in the dark places. Creeping up from the sea. Hiding in your dreams. Black Hood knows! Ask Black Hood! She's seen what Revelry see's, and hears the Dream-People like you and me! Yes, yes! She knows where The Tapestry folds, and it's layers are thinnest. The Things are enemy with the demon-things, and dead-things that Dawn sent away. Now the birds caw, caw, caw, and bicker! It makes Revelry's head hurt so much. She doesn't know what to do! But Black Hood knows! Maybe she is helping! Maybe... Revelry doesn't know. " She skulked back behind the ledge like a man being dragged away until she was no longer visible from below.



Something about Revelry's words seems to hold some consistency, in an otherwise inconsistent personality. Some of the terms seem to hint at something real which has caused her to loose grasp of her own sanity. Who this 'Black Hood' is was a good as anyone's guess, but the attentive arcane scholar begins to draw a number of connections....

Penance shook his head dismissively then took a look at the orc with a raised brow with something between respect and a curious look upon his face. "That was an impressive blow you dealt, and an even more impressive display of defensive maneuvers and sharp wit. We are forbidden to speak in detail of the ritual the priestesses hold, but I'm glad you're not all just brawn. I will never accept Saint Alexandria's Blessing as righteous nor just. " Revelry giggled from above, beginning to sing terribly and out of tune. "...You'd best start to run~ Here they come~ Those cruel-mean-hands~ Off with his head~ Off with his skull~ They strike-strike-strike, with all their might~ With spite-spite-spite, they will smite~ Hehe. My Lady speaks. She speaks to her Revelry! The hands are coming, coming to slay the Dream-People. Crush them! Splatter them! Smash them! Dead-Dead-Dead! Hehe. Don't worry tho Real-One. She likes you. My Lady says so, but that's no good. No, no, no. Better to be crushed, splatter, and smash then be her favorite! No, no, no!" She grabbed her head, and begun writhing about on the ground, thrashing violently out of sight of those on the ground - but her wild screaming was perfectly audible. Then she sharply stopped, opening her eyes with a bright smile. "...Allll better~"

The clouds darkened overhead, a funnel cloud begun to churn above, dim bursts of light could be seen within, as if energy collided along the vaporous walls. The dim rays of the sun were stained, as the clouds creeped from a deep grey, to a near-black. Something wasn't right.... Bolts of energy blasted downwards obliterating the remaining skeletons - their souls rising into the air like the others, only to be torn asunder.


A dark and evil magical presence can be felt above, something is coming. Perhaps a spell?


Combat-Action Tracker


PC-----
[Waiting]
[Pending]
[Done]
[Action] [Summery]
Round 6


A'Seere


++++
Moving with group


Alerdene
++++++


(Pending Action)


Anzor
++++++


(Pending Action)


Fargo
++++++


(Pending Action)


Kravor


++++
Moving/Recover


Waster
++++++


(Pending Action)


Desril


++++
Attack/Barr. down


Yasha
++++++


(Pending Action)

[Mornings]

The Long March
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The North-Eastern Ramparts - 6:17 AM

The Ramparts: Round 6 (Part 2)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Desril: 109/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15
Alerdene: 54/54

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp
Revelry: 68/68 Hp

Yasha listened closely to Revelry's words, there was some reason beneath the madness, that much she was certain. However, finding it was another story all together. Her mad-ranting and seemingly hysteric patterns of speech made it seem like gibberish with no definitive clues to be found. Looking above, she could sense and visibly see the magics in the sky above beginning to take shape, but the evil was beyond her. Foul magic she had never seen before lingered above, threatening to crash down upon them - she had never seen such sorcery before...

Alerdene listened from above key words creating a pattern in her mind as the crazed, would-be oracle, spoke and begun thrashing about in a fit or seizure. 'The Tapestry...thinnest...' - yes she was certain of it now, the woman, while appearing as some sort of rogue, was an Oracle of The Dark Tapestry, her mind and eyes had pierced the ether veil that cloaked the 'worlds-between', and the fearsome eldritch forces that dwelt deep within the folds of creation. This 'Black Hood', it was very likely another oracle, or perhaps a manifestation created to bring some semblance of normality to the otherwise distraught mind of the mad-seer by the mighty beings far away. There was a chance perhaps that this 'Black Hood', may have a more mundane origin, perhaps an ascended member of The Night Heralds? It was difficult to say, but the mundane answer seemed the least likely as such experiences or talents to walk the folds of time and space between was a gift reserved for very few, more often oracles then cultists or other less unique rabble. There was enough information to bring light to one thing however. Revelry was indeed mad, but made so because she had seen 'the other side'. No creature could return, even if only in mind, unchanged. Still, regardless of her lack of sanity, she did without doubt possess very potent abilities of divination and foresight. Looking above, the masked woman took a moment to analyze the black and terrible clouds above. There were certain kinds of magic, foul kinds of magic... that were lost, not because the practices or rituals themselves had been lost - but because they were so steeped in evil, they could only be cast by using verbal components of Dark Speech. A profane tongue that had been lost long-long ago, fragments and words occasionally uncovered and protected as dearly as a devil's Truename. What she saw above, was such a spell, magic from the days of the war to seal The Gate. Something, someone knew more then a handful of the forsaken language to conjure up what she saw above. Powered by malice, and fueled by the torment of souls - she could see the second funnel-cloud beginning to form. A variation of an old and evil spell, well known as The Crushing Fist of Spite. This was the spell from which it was derived. The wizard who had conjured up such foul work must had begin the spell before the wagon even crashed - Something clicked in her mind. The befouled earth, it was not only to slow them down, it was to deter and distract them from someone... something else who was likely vulnerable during the spell's casting... It appeared there were a multitude of enemies conspiring against them, but to what end?


A massive and devastating spell, over the course of a long ritual, and many scarifies, the presence of a powerful outsider is bound to a manifested, and magically empowered arm wielded by the creature mentally. The Fist of Spite functions almost identically to the evil spell, except it possesses a number of profane abilities making it a far more destructive force. Being struck by, or near the point of impact causes great taint to the soul and body causing the damage sustained to be Vile Damage.

Revelry laughed from the wall, rolling back and forth on her back. "...She gets it! She gets it! Yes, yes! Many hands in the pot, not only in the sky! But why? Oh, why? She asks! Revelry knows! - It's so he can steal the children! hehe. Slow The Regalia, make them turn their heads, then sneak-sneak-sneak away! Hahaha! Smart, so smart! But you noticed didn't you!? Maybe you're real too? Maybe... But she knows now, better to run run run~ Or the hands will PLUCK-PLUCK-PLUCK, from the sky. Hehe. Yes, soon it will be over. Then we will dance and sing, for awhile. But no time for cheer! For we are not dancing yet! To holy-ground and holy-air, to the high tower we must go! Or crush, smash, bash and splatter - the little people, the Dream-People, hehe. "

[ICN]

Alerdene seems unperturbed by rising energy of the spell or Revelry's mad ravings. She tilts her head sideways, then addresses the rest of the group. "It's all a distraction. The sludge to give whatever is casting this spell the time it needs, and all of that to keep us from noticing as they sneak off with the real prize. But for now, we'd better clear the area before they finish that spell. Now hands up if you'd have to walk through this mess."

[grumblyarcher]

The Waster could hear the others chattering in the distance. Whatever the case was up there, it seemed like the dead things as evil clouds had come out the worse for wear during the last couple of exchanges. He did not know if saying they had 'died' was quite correct as he was not any sort of priest or philosopher. Jogging up, he kept an eye on the sky.

"The Hell is going on now? I don't even leave you buggers alone for five minutes and you've found another nut job to add to our ranks and broke the damn sky!" He had the growing suspicion that he was going to end up playing catch up with this lot disturbingly often. "Can we get out of here before whatever the Hell that is drops on us?" This was, perhaps, the most words the others had heard him string together at once. The content, however, was not surprising based on how he had treated them up until now.

[Desril]

Desril

Irritation mixing with pity for Revelry's shattered mind, the half-fiend shakes his head and turns to the Waster, "Basically? An enormously destructive spell is about to kill us all unless we get to a shielded area. What I don't understand is what they're doing, the spell doesn't require that much effort if you've the strength to cast it, so either a bunch of weaklings are working together, or there's something more dangerous about it than normal."

Looking at the remaining undead, "But these skeletons aren't worth our time. They can be dealt with later, for now, let's just get out of here!"

[OzzyKP]

Anzor - Round 6

Seeing the skeletons all crumble and dark forces begin to gather, Anzor was already feeling antsy. With all the others taking off toward the tower, he decided to do the same.

Addressing his brother and Sister V'Sal he said, "Alright you two, it is time to get to safety."

Grabbing on to Fargo & V'Sal, he blinked away from the battle and the three of them reappeared at the High Tower.

Still injured from earlier, and not sure what would come next, Anzor took the opportunity to heal.


Anzor, as a standard action casts dimension door, teleporting Fargo & V'Sal to safety
Anzor, as a swift action, casts lay on hands on himself: [roll0]
Fargo, as standard action, casts Cure Light Wounds on Anzor: [roll1] (ignore this, Fargo attacked instead, see below)

Anzor's HP: 40

[Desril]

Desril

Seeing Anzor warp away, the half-fiend does the same. "I'll open another gateway, get to me and let's move!"


I think we've been here before. Onward to the tower.

[OzzyKP]

Fargo - Round 6

Fargo let out a smirk as he watched his brother rain destruction down on their evil foes. He was about to compliment him when he noticed the force field go down. He knew they needed to leave, but he wanted a piece of the action first.

"I don't want to get out of here till I've had a chance to test myself against these abominations!"

He rushed down to the closest skeleton and with a powerful thrust, jabbed his sword through its skull. The mighty blow ended the undead monster in one deft strike. His job done he steps back to be close to his older brother. He turns to see his brother beaming with pride at the expert attack Fargo just landed on the skeleton.

"You are a force to be reckoned with, little bro," he said.


Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)
AC 46 - (10 base, +1 DEX, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot from chaos, +3 Aegis, +12 raven)
HP: 24 (-10 flame, -8 flame, -3 vile, -4 vile, +3 LoH, +5 CLW, +4 LoH, +3 CLW, +1LoH, +5CpE)

Fargo Attack [roll0] (+3 BAB, +2 STR, +1 Size, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +6 Smite)
Rapier Damage 1 [roll1] (+2 STR, +6 Smite, +24 electric)

Attack bypasses all DR.

Move: Move to G10
Standard: Attack w/ smite vs. skeleton #9
Free: 5 ft step back to F11

[ICN]

Alerdene flies through the portal Desril created and joins the others on top of the tower.
Alerdene will also use Ghost-Eating Blade on herself (Gives all weapons Ghost Touch)

[Mornings]

The Ramparts: Round 6 (Part 3)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

Status & HP
Kravor: 53/67 (7 Vile)
Anzor: 28/53
Fargo: 26/31 (7 Vile)
Waster: 37/64 (7 Vile)
Yasha: 60/61
Desril: 109/65 [Status: Black-Blood Blight 8 (Move) ]
Miles: X/51 - (Dead/Out)
A'Seere (Alpha): 15/15
Alerdene: 54/54

NPCs
V'Sal: 32/48 Hp
Penance: 51/64 Hp
Revelry: 68/68 Hp

The heros begun to withdraw from the bastion as the storm raged above. Sister V'Sal moved towards Anzor and the paladin as they turned to regroup with the others, the shield of force dissipating about them. They moved to make their escape, but Fargo had other ideas. With a quick motion his sword errupted in golden light as he leapt back into the fray, narrowly avoiding one of the skeleton's cursed blades as it deflected harmlessly off the semi-physical barrier of the mystical aura about him. He thrust his thin blade forward with nimble agility. The creature's head exploded in a shower of golden light and fragments of bone then quickly slipped back towards the others.

With a laugh Anzor grabbed Sister V'Sal and his brother and teleported to the bastion far in the distance, leaving the others behind.

A young woman in simple breastplate and clerical robes looked up in surprise as the group came into the landing of the tower. She wore a heavy looking one-handed sword and carried a shield, but did not have the face of a warrior. She could have perhaps been a young paladin-initiate, but hey bright-round eyes gave her the appearance of a child 'playing at knight'. Sister V'Sal glanced around, surprised by the sudden jump. "...We're here? - Tilly, what are you doing out of the church? " The young woman nodded sheepishly, "Um. Yes... Father Sipel dispatched me to warn of, the bad things... It looks like I was too slow. I'm glad to see you are well, the Father requests you return immediately. The clerics seem to be missing, so I fired the flare when I saw your signal. " Sister V'Sal looked about the empty bastion where she expected to see other clergymen and reinforcements. " What is the meaning of this? Where are The Clerics of High Tower? " Tilly shook her head helplessly and only answered with a shrug. " There is no sign of combat here, nor did I hear any such encounter. Something must have happened here, there clerics are never to abandon their posts. Ugh. " "Sister, you must go. Father requests you alone. He knows of the situation here, but there is more to tend to. I shall stay and defend The Regalia in your place. " She nodded, " Very well - I appologize, but it seems we will need to part here. I shall join you again when I am able." - The priestess took off down the stairs descending the bastion.

(Anzor/Fargo) Have left combat


The Ramparts: Round 7 (Part 1)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

The clouds above darkened, steeped in shadow, forming massive hands in the sky. Descending like terrible fists of some enraged deity. The storm above blackened the sky, formed by profane magics. The halflings and the priestess vanished from sight moments before as Desril cut open a dimensional doorway in the air before him. The massive hands clenched tightly into a fist, black clouds of energy erupting from around the massive hands. The heroes didn't hesitate, leaping through the portal as the massive fists came down-

From atop The High Tower, they could see the massive explosion of rubble and stone as the bastion crumbled underneath the massive impact of the hands from the sky. Black energy and flame ruptured forth from the collision much like the creatures they had fought previously, but magnified to such a scale, the very bastion and part of the ramparts were sundered to nothing but smoldering rubble. The terrible sight of the fallen sky was visible to all. The great black hands rose from the ruined wall of the city, vanishing back up into the sky. The blast of wind struck them, as if it was the aftershock of a blast, the stone shook beneath their feet. The storm above begun to dissipate - the magics spent in a single devastating blow.

Combat Ends



The Highest Tower
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:18 AM

The Ramparts:
The Highest Tower


High Tower, much like the name implied was the tallest of the bastions on the eastern ramparts of the city. Said to be heavily manned and defended by an order of clerics... yet, there was no one to be seen with the exception of the youthful & sheepish looking priestess who stood next to the halfling. Sister V'Sal was no where to be seen. Penance looked about the empty and unmanned 80ft wide expanse with questioning eyes. It was painted on his face, something wasn't right "The Clerics of High Tower... there's no one here. Who man's the Eastern Ramparts? " The young priestess shrugged having only just arrived herself. He sighed deeply, looking back out towards the direction they had come, the black void at the gate and the storm above them - along with the massive fists were gone. " It seems we have narrowly escaped a crushing death, only to find our allies missing... " The priestess spoke up, " I don't know what happened, but the clerics are missing, I've been sent to gather The Regalia and meet the Father at The Triodea. " Penance glanced back over his shoulder to the collapsed section of the ramparts in the distance, the image of the spectral raven fading off into the distance seeming to have decided to break from its pursuit. They had won, this time. " We should make haste then and tend to our wounds. " The priestess turned to the group with a goofy grin. " Hello everyone, I'm Priestess Lisandra Tellay, but you can just call me Sister Tilly, hehe. " Revelry slid up to the half-fiend snaking her way around Desril's arm while attention was drawn towards the new face and the destruction behind them. " See, Revelry knew. My Lady told me, hehe, but you ruined all the fun. Oh well. You can make it up to me when we chase the holymen. Soon, very soon, in dark and filth with ghouls and wrights and things most foul. Hehe. The Dream People don't know, but we do, don't we? " She made a strange throaty purring sound while nuzzling his arm as if she was a large feline creature - smearing blood from her face on his limb.


Combat has ended, the party has greatly out-ranged the enemy arriving at High Tower - only to find the bastion mysteriously unmanned and without a trace of guardsmen or cleric-defenders after watching the bastion they were once on destroyed by a single strike of the mighty spell the enemy had prepared against them.

The party does not gain a level, having escaped and ending the encounter.


Priestess Lisandra 'Tilly' Tellay
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/Revelations%20of%20Rain/Bereavement%20of%20the%20Righteous/%20Sister%20Lisandra%20Tilly%20Tellay%20-%20Copy_zps5iwj09th.jpg

[Pertenetator]

"Ahem, Revelry, Crazy person, or whatever" Yasha said with as much gentleness she could muster . WHen that tramp hugged Des, she had passed through the earlier stage of fury and was now in that calm lagoon of rage where the voice is steady, the manner is measured and polite, and only a faint trace of spittle at the corner of the mouth betrays the inner inferno. "Des is half succubus, and her is surrounded by an aura that makes all women attracted to him, expcept me because i am half-fiend too. You are not thinking rationally due to that so i will give you a free pass so i ask you very nicely to let go of my boyfriend. Now"

[Mornings]

The Highest Tower
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:18 AM

The Ramparts:
The Highest Tower

Revelry looked up at Yasha turned her head over, as if seemingly in confusion. Then looking back to Desril, " Why is the silly Dream-Girl mad? Why does she call Revelry 'crazy'? Does she not see Revelry's words are true? - do not fret~!" She smiled waving one hand elegantly as if writing a name in the air in-front of Yasha.


A strange gesture, perhaps a name in some unknowable language? The air seemed to feel slightly humid after its completion. There always seemed to be more to the madness then met the eye...

She laughed, " ....Eye spy. What is not present. Hmmm.... Eye spy.... What is nameless, yet has a name...Yes, yes. What am I? Hehe. " She pulled the half-fiend closer with a giggle. " No? You give up? Awww, poor you. So bad. You're bad at games. Why is the Dream-Girl worried about Revelry? Should you not be worried about the Dream-Man you left? My, my, so silly. And why is Dream-Girl mad at Revelry? Real-Ones are not 'friends', 'friends with boys' or 'friends with girls', not with Dream-People. Silly girl."

Penance crossed his arms " What in the hells is she going on about now? - Release the half-fiend woman, you're obviously irritating our guest. " - Sister Tilly clapped her hands, looking at something in the distance " My, he sure is brave. I wish I was that brave. Is he one of your men, Penance? " - The paladin scoffed, " What the hell are you talking about they're all dead- Wha- ? " He squinted his eyes. " Who is that.... Someone's still out there? " He looked around frantically as if taking a count. Revelry let go of Desril, and slid up to Yasha, licking the tip of her nose playfully. " Hehe. You should go play with the other Dream-People. Real-People don't need silly Dream-Girls. Go play with him- " She pointed off at a small lone figure far in the distance standing before the crumbling flames and destruction, billowing clouds of smoke and choking debris wafting into the air. " Hehe, he's mine now. Revelry's mate. My Lady tells me so~! " She cackled madly, Penance frantically looked about, "Who is that!? Did we leave someone behind!? "

The figure was much to far to make out clearly, even less so in the billowing smoke of flame and destruction that drowned the sun in clouds of smoldering ruin... Someone had stayed behind.

[Desril]

Desril

Taking a moment to collect himself This place is more hellish than I'd thought...guess I should stop holding back. So distracted, the half-fiend doesn't notice Revelry sliding up to him and latching onto his arm at first, freezing up when he does. Not certain how to get her off him, he can't help but sigh in relief when Tilly and Yasha distract her.

"So, do we have any clues as to where the priests went? Or what might've happened?" Looking around for clues, "Or should we just make for the Triodea as quickly as possible and figure it out later?"

Glancing at Revelry, he tries to make sense of her. Cute and broken beyond comprehension...not a good combination...especially not if Yasha gets on her bad side. I'm going to need to figure out a way to fix her, somehow...maybe a spell could do it. His theorizing is interrupted, however, as the lunatic in question licks the tiefling's nose causing him to quickly look away lest his imagination get the better of him.


Updated to the new magic school.

Using PoO to get fully recharged on VR.

Perception to look for clues [roll0]

[grumblyarcher]

Far, far away from the others, a small flame flickered for just a moment then went out. The Waster stood alone on the ramparts looking inwards with toward where he assumed the others had gone, cigarillo lit and burning. His duster and hat had definitely seen better days but he appeared much the same as he always appeared, mildly annoyed and entirely disapproving. It was not that he hated the forces arrayed against the Regalia, but rather that they were something beneath him. They were alien creatures of terrible power and horrid servants. Yet all of that were part of the same game he had seen time and time again in wastelands and in slums, courtrooms and manors, taverns and fortresses. It was merely written in a larger font this time.

He knew what he was doing, most of his best work was done alone. There was something that needed killing and he was going to take care of it. They had other concerns. With wings and magic, they had a much better chance of finding and dealing with whatever nonsense was coming their way. This was a better division of labor.

They might try to come back for him and they would be fools to do so. Obviously, he had to make it clear. The Waster pulled himself up onto one of the parapets making it easier to spot him for just a moment. Taking a moment to puff out a mouthful of smoke, he dropped off the parapet and into the rubble vanishing from sight. It was hard to describe but it seemed like he vanished from view mid-way through the fall but it was hard to tell thanks to the distance and the smoke.

He was just a man, always just a man, fighting things he did not understand for people he barely trusted. Of course, a single man playing by his rules could be a very dangerous thing indeed.

Tapping a use of my Unseen ability to become invisible for four rounds.

[roll0]

[grumblyarcher]

Round Seven

You would think such a loud weapon would be useless in stealth situations but when thunder cracked over the ramparts, there was seemingly no source for it.


[roll=Damage]1d8+2d6+13+24
-Deadly Aim
-Up Close and Deadly

Swift: Unseen
[roll1]

[Pertenetator]

Yasha blinked for a few moment after Revelry licked her nose. "Right uhh...sorry. I just assumed you were under Des spell, sorry for going full ballistic on you. Suppose you are not crazy, your way of thinking is just a bit....different i guess ?". She patted the woman's head a bit, given she was a foot taller than her at least , in a similar manner she did her weird act "Just because i am "dream people" doesn't mean i shouldn't be nice to you, or assuming things "

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo - Round 7

Not sure what might come next, but not wanting to waste a quiet moment to patch themselves up, Anzor and Fargo both apply some healing to Anzor's wounds.

Listening to the conversation there in the bastion, Anzor does a quick head count and says, "The gunfighter is still out there."

After seeing some flashes of light in the distance he says, "It looks like the battle isn't over yet..."


Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------

AC: 47 (10 base, +6 armor, +2 shield, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot chaos, +3 aegis, +11 raven)
HP: 38 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH, +5 CpE, +8 CLW, +2 CLW)

Standard: Uses wand to cast CLW on Anzor
UMD check: [roll0]
CLW: [roll1]

Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)
AC 46 - (10 base, +1 DEX, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot from chaos, +3 Aegis, +12 raven)
HP: 24 (-10 flame, -8 flame, -3 vile, -4 vile, +3 LoH, +5 CLW, +4 LoH, +3 CLW, +1LoH, +5CpE)

Standard: Uses wand to cast CLW on Anzor
UMD check: [roll2]
CLW: [roll3]



Anzor & Fargo - Round 8

They heal further.


Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------

AC: 47 (10 base, +6 armor, +2 shield, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot chaos, +3 aegis, +11 raven)
HP: 53 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH, +5 CpE, +8 CLW, +2 CLW, +9 CLW, +7 CLW)

Standard: Uses wand to cast CLW on Anzor
UMD check: [roll4]
CLW: [roll5]

Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)
AC 46 - (10 base, +1 DEX, +9 armor, +2 natural, +1 size, +4 shield, +2 Phalanx, +2 prot from chaos, +3 Aegis, +12 raven)
HP: 24 (-10 flame, -8 flame, -3 vile, -4 vile, +3 LoH, +5 CLW, +4 LoH, +3 CLW, +1LoH, +5CpE)

Standard: Uses wand to cast CLW on Anzor
UMD check: [roll6]
CLW: [roll7]

[Tuvarkz]

The half-orc remained silent for a moment, locked in a mental debate over whether to go help the gunman or to leave him to his own fate. At last, one single argument trumped all the rest: I am a Warder, I PROTECT. Roaring a war cry, the warrior lifted his weapon and started running towards the direction of The Waster.

[Mornings]

The Highest Tower
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:18 AM

The Ramparts:
The Highest Tower

Revelry laughed " Revelry is not crazy... " She paused pulling Yasha close with one arm and pointing out to the distant destruction with the other as The Waster emerged from the smoke and flame climbing the crumbling parapets on the ramparts as the clouds billowed and moaned, beginning to take shape in the distance, a massive spiritual entity formed, 15ft wide formed of many screaming faces - A Caller in Darkness. " ...He, is crazy. ". The flames of and the crumbling ramparts twitched and danced below him casting an obscuring haze below. He leapt from the parapets below, vanishing from sight. Revelry released Yasha as the gunman vanished from view, " The Messenger saw him not at all, perhaps better that he is alone, soon the enemy will be made much weaker. But still a poor bet, yes, very poor. Bet of a madman to gamble on odds as such. Hehe, how fun. " Penance moaned, " Uhhhg, are these suicidal tendencies normal for Regalia!? Why must things be made so complicated... We can't leave him there to die alone. " Revelry chuckled, " No, no. Wrong are you - silly knight. He means not to return should he fail... A last stand. So exciting! " - " That's nonsense! Madness! Why would he stay with our escape assured? " - Sister Tilly piped in, " The Father once said to me, 'not all men know how to run', Penance. Perhaps he is like that too? - You cannot save a man from himself, I think. At least, that's what Father said.... What should we do? What if he gets hurt? Oh, no..." He face turned red flustered, grabbing her head as if all the thinking was going to make her head explode. Her shield bashed her in the side of the head as she raised her hands too quickly. She yelped and staggered to the side.

The Ramparts: Round 7 (Surprise Round)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

The flame and wind howled as the hands of darkness came down from the sky. An explosion of flame and heat lifted him from the ground as the bastion was sundered by the mighty fists. Dark Magics... A type he had never seen before. The discharge of energy was apparent, the great blast of flame, just as it had been with the skeletons and black blooded creatures before it was unleashed as it struck down. A cloud of sweeping monstrous flame as the ebon-black hands crushed stone and mortar under cruel and bloodied knuckles-

He found himself on the stone, perhaps a half minute or so had gone by, knocked from his senses by the shock wave of the massive magical assault. How long must it have taken to gather such enormous amounts of energy? ...He lifted himself from the shattering stone, the ramparts crumbling, the air choked with thick smoke as stone and timber burned below. The others had departed in the portal the half-fiend had manifested some time before, yet he had stayed. The flames licked at his duster, the soot darkened his face. A massive cloud of howling faces begun to form above, the spectral raven of the enemy could be seen departing to the west, in-wards, toward the city proper. He had gone unseen, or so it appeared. The triple ravens of the sisters he had seen only once circled over head preparing to fly out to High Tower. His gaze was drawn to the distance. Atop the massive bastion he could see the small shapes of the others. They'd made it. He climbed atop the fractured parapets of the wall, lifting himself above the smoke for a moment. They'd be fools to come back, this was his fight now. If he could hold out, soon the troublesome bird that had gathered the energy of the slain enemies would be gone, and the enemy made significantly weaker. His hand dropped down to his weapon as he leapt from the stone into a tumble, firing off a shot as he vanished into the banks of smoke.

The crack of thunder.
A beam of searing lightning exploded out from the cover of the smoldering ruins. It cleaved through the roiling collection of horrific milky vapor with a hissing buzz that ushered forth a disturbing multi-voiced scream of pain.


The Waster stealths, snipes - Hits (54 Damage)

The Ramparts: Round 7 (Part 1)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

He hit the ground in a roll, the keening wail of the many-faced ghastly creature made the air shudder, beads of light begun to form in the mouths of a number of the faces. This was not his first tango with the weird and strange creatures from beyond. He stayed low as howling blasts of flame and mental energy ruptured forth and exploded far behind him. Psychokinetic forces ripped through the air, clearing lines of smoke, he fired simultaneously with the sound of the cacophonous roar of flame from the blast. The creature shrieked again as he hustled to the side to re-position, keeping low and out of sight, bits of stone rained down about him from the shattered and blasted walkway.


Snipe Successful (48 Damage)

The Ramparts: Round 8 (Part 1)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

The Waster stood up from the smoke quickly, just long enough to fan the hammer on his revolver unloading a flurry of bullets traced in beams of blue light. Two of the shots struck, while another passed harmlessly through the creature. With a quick motion he tumbled back into the smoke as a massive collision of force rained down upon his previous position. The stone and rubble struck his back, narrowly evading the blast. The three ravens overhead begun to soar towards The High Tower. He could feel the empowering energies leaving him, the crackling lightning that filled his body and weapon begun to diminish, then was gone... He only needed to hold out for a short-while longer before the other raven that aided the enemy was out of range as well... He'd been fortunate so far, this had been much easier alone, playing a game of cat-and-mouse, rather then having a cumbersome group in his way. He just needed to maintain the offensive. He could do this... he could win, but things would be much more challenging without the magical bullets to aid him.


Attack #1 (45 Damage)
Attack #2 (46 Damage)

A'Seere is now out of range - Raven's Cry Buffs no longer active.
The Party may now act.

[ICN]

Alerdene remains where she is, watching the proceedings with interest. I hope you'll at least make things entertaining.

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo - Round 9

"Fargo, I'm going in. You better stay here," Anzor said.

"Wait," Fargo replied as he quickly reached into the haversack.

He pulled out one of the many wands he carried, this one was a resist energy wand. He touched his brother with it and the power flowed through him. With a nod he indicated Anzor was free to go.

A moment later he was gone.

Anzor reappeared a good 30 ft off from the enemy creature, behind a pile of rubble. He attempted to hide from it as best he could, he hoped he wasn't seen.



Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------
AC: 31 (10 base, +6 armor, +2 shield, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 prot chaos)
HP: 53 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH, +5 CpE, +8 CLW, +2 CLW, +9 CLW, +7 CLW)

Standard: Teleport near the enemy
Stealth roll: [roll0] (+8 DEX, +4 size, +2 Heroism)

Fargo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=528011)----------

Move - Takes Resist Energy wand from haversack
Standard - Uses wand on Anzor, +10 fire resistance








Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
53 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
51 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
3 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
5 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
353 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Bless Weapon
Fargo
56 rounds
Anzor's Rapier
---
Good aligned


Arcane Pool
Anzor
32 rounds
Anzor's Rapier
Enhancement
+2 attack & damage


Resist Energy
Fargo
60 rounds
Anzor
---
Fire resist 10

[Desril]

Desril

Seeing the fight going off in the distance, the half-fiend sighs. "If we were going to fight, I shouldn't have wasted the time and energy to bring everyone here, it would've been more efficient to spend those seconds blowing this thing back to the void."

Walking toward the door to get a clearer view, he holds out a hand, "Oh well, better late than never, I suppose," and sends forth a small bead of fire that races toward the enemy before exploding, engulfing it in flame.


Long range spells ftw.

Taking one point of Wis damage in order to toss on Ascendent and Empower.

Ascendent Empowered Fireball [roll0] (Ref DC 24 vs catch fire for 2d6/round)

[Mornings]

The Highest Tower
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:18 AM

The Ramparts: Round 9 (Part 1)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

The Waster & Anzor
Resorting once more to his game of stealth, he fired off a shot once again before dipping back into the cover the haze of smoke provided. The bullet passed harmlessly through the gaseous form - his aim hastily taken. Almost immediately after, the familiar sight of the teleporting halfling came back into view - returned from the far-off bastion, only to vanish from sight into the thick smoke as well.

From the Tower
The half-orc continued his mad sprint down the ramparts - the bellowing roar of flame passing overhead from far behind him. In the distance the flaming bolt of energy crashed into the ghastly figure. A sharp crack echoed out across the ramparts as it detonated. - The Waster and Anzor skidded back on the stone, nearly toppled from their feet as the exploding gout of flame crashed into the misty specter lighting it aflame. Only moments following - the keening cry of a raven could be heard far in the distance.

A spectacle like once seen before unveiled itself once more. A golden light from above, then a crashing pillar of light from the heavens struck the earth passing through the creature. A massive rush of wind like a wall of energy sent the two reeling backwards. The ground shuttered beneath their feet. Rubble and pyroclastic smog blocked out the light and all vision... there was only a pause of silence. Had the creature been defeated? Was it over? -An explosion of psychokinetic energy cut that thought short, blasting through the air and parting the thick caustic miasma. The explosion of energy detonated in Anzor's face. Like a thousand mind's entering his consciousness and given shape, the violent malicious stream of thoughts exploded from him. Bloody wounds exploded from his skin wracking him with pain and agony - he staggered backwards, blood running from every visible orifice, yet still he held his footing. Perhaps it was pure instinct and reflex that had made him jump back from the luckily placed attack - for if the blast had struck him squarely, he surely would have been dead.

The flaming specter howled in a thousand voices, like a living cloud of flame - it was not finished yet.


Lots of damage - and lit on fire. Still not dead.
Anzor gets an unfortunately lucky blast in the face: 42 Damage

[OzzyKP]

Anzor - Round 10

The blast was more severe than Anzor anticipated. The force nearly broke him. He was in severe pain and strongly considered retreating back to the safety of the tower. Indeed if Fargo had been with him he probably would have. If one blow could nearly snuff him out this was one beast he should be far away from. But it hadn't killed him, he still stood. It was foolhardy, and rash, and reckless, but he didn't retreat. He came here to fight and he wasn't going to run away without landing a single blow.

He attacked with all the speed and ferocity he could muster in his bloody state. When his steel flurry ended he took a quick sidestep and hunkered down, hopefully out of sight from the nearby monster.


Anzor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=149195)----------
AC: 31 (10 base, +6 armor, +2 shield, +8 Dexterity, +1 size, +2 Natural, +2 prot chaos)
HP: 11 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH, +5 CpE, +8 CLW, +2 CLW, +9 CLW, +7 CLW, -42 attack)

Mainhand Attack Spellstrike [roll0] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Rapier Damage [roll1] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment, +10 Smite)
Shocking Grasp Damage [roll2] (+5 Smite)

Offhand Attack Spellstrike [roll3] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Gladius Damage [roll4] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment, +5 Smite)


Mainhand Crit Confirm:
Mainhand Attack [roll5] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Rapier Damage [roll6] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment, +10 Smite)
Shocking Grasp Damage [roll7] (+5 Smite)

Offhand Crit Confirm:
Offhand Attack [roll8] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Gladius Damage [roll9] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment, +5 Smite)


Mainhand Attack #1 [roll10] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Rapier Damage [roll11] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment, +5 Smite)

Offhand Attack #1 [roll12] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Gladius Damage [roll13] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment, +5 Smite)


Mainhand Crit Confirm:
Mainhand Attack [roll14] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Rapier Damage [roll15] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment, +5 Smite)

Offhand Crit Confirm:
Offhand Attack [roll16] (+6 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Gladius Damage [roll17] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment, +5 Smite)


Mainhand Attack #2 [roll18] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Rapier Damage [roll19] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment, +5 Smite)

Offhand Attack #2 [roll20] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Gladius Damage [roll21] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment, +5 Smite)


Mainhand Crit Confirm:
Mainhand Attack [roll22] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +3 enchantment, +1 Serpent Runner, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Rapier Damage [roll23] (+8 DEX, +3 enchantment, +5 Smite)

Offhand Crit Confirm:
Offhand Attack [roll24] (+1 BAB, +8 DEX, +1 Size, +1 enchantment, +2 Heroism, +7 Smite)
Gladius Damage [roll25] (+4 DEX, +1 enchantment, +5 Smite)



Stealth roll: [roll26] (+8 DEX, +4 size, +2 Heroism)

Swift - Smite Evil (+7 attack, +5 damage (+10 damage on first successful attack)
Full Attack - two attacks with each hand & spellstrike (with two more attacks) and casts Shocking Grasp
5 ft step - to get under cover again
No action - Stealth to hide








Effect
Source
Duration
Who it Affects
Bonus Type
What it does


Heroism
Fargo
52 rounds
Everyone from wagon
Morale
+2 attack, saves & skill checks


Phalanx Fighter
Fargo
All day
Everyone from wagon and within sight of Fargo
Sacred
+1 AC/saves/spells/abilities vs. evil for each adjacent ally


Aegis
Kravor
Permanent
Within 10 ft of Kravor
Morale
+3 AC/will saves


Expeditious Retreat
Kravor
50 rounds
Kravor
---
+30 ft speed


Divine Favor
Kravor
2 rounds
Kravor
Luck
+2 attack & damage


Protection vs. Chaos
Kravor
4 rounds
Kravor, Anzor & Fargo
Deflection/Resistance
+2 AC/saves vs. chaos, other stuff (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/p/protection-from-evil)


Enruned Dagger
Anzor
352 rounds
Anzor
---
Can cast spells & hold 2 swords


Aura of Courage
Anzor
Always
10 ft from Anzor
Morale
+4 vs. fear


Bless Weapon
Fargo
55 rounds
Anzor's Rapier
---
Good aligned


Arcane Pool
Anzor
31 rounds
Anzor's Rapier
Enhancement
+2 attack & damage


Resist Energy
Fargo
59 rounds
Anzor
---
Fire resist 10

[Desril]

Desril

Seeing the others largely have the creature in hand, the half-fiend makes no move from where he's at and instead turns toward the priestess. "They seem like they can handle that thing on their own from here, and I'd rather not leave the lot of you undefended. Shall we go now?"

[Mornings]

The Highest Tower
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:18 AM

The Ramparts: Round 9 (Part 1)
The Highest Tower (Combat)

The Ramparts
The Waster didn't alter his approach, perhaps the halfling might have saved his own life. Looking at the gory sight of the lacerated little man brought a grim reminder of the fight he very well could have suffered, perhaps even worse had one of the blasts stuck him directly. Staying to cover, he stalked below the smoke unwilling to give ground before the enemy, or his position. With measured aim, he took a deep breath, steadying his arm. Striking the faces it seemed was his best option, otherwise the bullets would pass right through. CRACK. The flash from his weapon's muzzle quickly vanished from sight. The flaming vaporous creature continued to howl in a frenzy, not from the bullet either. It was difficult to ascertain if he was making headway at all. Yet he begun to notice the subtle changes - perhaps half of the faces had ceased their screaming, silently floating in the milky mist like corpses flowing through some underworld river's surface. They were dying, they were close, but this dead thing had plenty of fight left in it... The halfling clawed his way up from the bloodied stone with shaky feet. He should have ran. It was the sensible thing to do. It was what any logical creature would do - he could finish the thing be himself, with time.

...Yet, he did not run. He would have, had Fargo been with him. The creature was much stronger then he had anticipated. But... He grit his teeth. He didn't come here to run. He came to fight. Fight. Not march through a swamp. Not play 'taxi' for a band of would-be soldiers. He gave his weapons a quick spin, pushing the pain from his mind - he kicked off the ground, through a dimensional rift and appearing in the creature's foul moaning face. He struck with all his might with both blades, glowing dimly with arcane lightning. A jolt raced through his arms from the shock as both blades connected with one of the undead faces, a blast of electric energy raced out. He pulled himself close, then kicked up & off the face, unleashing a devastating falling windmill of steel and motion as he fell. Bursts of golden light streamed from his hands, erupting out with each half-rotation as the blades met their mark, ending with a spinning double-rending-overhead slash, cleaving one of the faces in two. He pulled his arms tightly in and kicked off from the cloven misty skull with a satisfied grin as he plummeted backwards into the shroud of smoke. - But it was short lived. DUUUM, like the head of a massive drum had been beaten upon - All of the remaining faces stopped abruptly, locking their gaze upon him - peering through the choking smoke. BUUUUM. A blast, unlike any he had felt before, made of psychokinetic-force like a great sphere of invisible, yet semi-tangible matter came crashing down upon him like a wrecking ball of solid iron. He was hurtled back first in his free-fall to the ground. The stone exploded, leaving him in a creator of broken grey brick and mortar. He felt his ribs snap and shatter, the great orb of consciousness crushing him like some fallen star. His body thrashed, blood spraying from his lips as his small frame begun to be pressed into the stone giving way beneath the pressure - the back of his skull digging into the shattered rock below. Yet his will was unbroken. The Caller screamed at him, baring down upon the halfling with all its fury. A single face remaining intact within the sickly miasma. This was not the end. He refused to die. He refused! He screamed back at the undead monstrosity, blood and spittle flying from his rasping throat. He imagined it, lifting the massive sphere of energy, he could feel the creature press down from the otherside - a contest of will. The monster thrashed violently, swinging its face left and right as the flames licked its features. He pressed harder - the beasts focus had begun to falter. It screamed louder, as if in fury, attempting to crush the small man with the weight of its mind. Dim... his sight had begun to dim, fade.. tunnel vision. Blood ran fluidly from his wounds. He couldn't hear anymore. With the last of his strength he pushed, pushed, pushed up off the ground - finding a knee under him. He screamed, rising to his feet. A crash of invisible energy cascaded around him - the great sphere of force destroyed. The Caller screamed out in fury, writhing in flame. Its face no longer visible. The smoke was now only flame. It churned and spun, then vanished into smoke - consumed by fire.

Anzor staggered backwards, his eyes feeling like they would roll back in his head - a deafening ringing filled his ears muting the world around him. He swayed, staggered once more, then fell to the earth. The battle had been won.


Caller in Darkness Slain ( > . > By burning to death )
Anzor has been reduced to 0 Hit Points and is Staggered and Prone

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/SHATTERED%20STAR/EncounterEnds_zps786fbbc6.png

PLAYERS HAVE GAINED A LEVEL - (LEVEL 7)

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor arrived late, finishing his sprint as the enemy expired. Looking at the situation, he moved up to Anzor and started healing him.
((CLW [roll0]))

[grumblyarcher]

The Waster approached from out of the rubble. Well approach was the wrong word, suddenly he was there a scant few feet away but unnoticed until just now. He was not really looking that much more worse for wear than when the others had left. He had his gun in one hand and the glowing light of his lit cigarillo provided a touch of hellish illumination for his shadowed face. He loomed over Kavor and Anzor, unearthly smoke trailing up from the barrel of his gun.

Idly, he flicked the cylinder open and began plucking spent casings from within. Each one was examined briefly, the ones that met the Waster's criteria were dropped into the pocket of his duster, others were flicked over his shoulder. Each casing made a delicate clinking sound as the bounced from the cobbles.

"You shouldn't have come back, boy," it was not thankful praise or concern that caused him to speak. His words were a flat statement, as though Anzor's current condition were as relevant to him as the death of a merchant in Tian Xia, just interesting enough for a passing comment. He took the cigarillo from his lips and tapped ash from it.

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo

Anzor takes a gasping, ragged breath as the healing energy from Kravor's spell revives him. Looking up from the ground for a moment he takes in the scene and realizes that his foe was dead. With his last breath he slew the beast. He staggered to his feet and applied some healing power of his own.

Upon hearing the gunman's chastisement, he said, with a smirk between raspy breaths, "Hah, and let you take all the glory? Besides, we have things to do, we couldn't just wait around forever for you to finish it off with your little pea-shooter."

"Now, let's get back to the tower. Good work everyone."

He puts his hands on Kravor and the gunfighter and teleported back to the hightower where the others were waiting.

When they appeared, Fargo instantly saw what a mess his brother was in. He was used to it though. His brother could dish out a lot of hurt, but could sustain a lot as well. As always, it fell to Fargo to patch him up. He once again used his cure light wounds wand on him.

As Fargo went about his business he said, "Penance, a little help here?"


Anzor HP: 16 (53 base, -14 attack, -13 attack, -13 attack, +10 LoH, +5 CpE, +8 CLW, +2 CLW, +9 CLW, +7 CLW, -42 attack, -11 attack, +8 CLW, +6 LoH, +2 CLW)

Anzor Lay on Hands on self: [roll0]
Fargo Cure Light Wounds on Anzor: [roll1]

[grumblyarcher]

The Waster looked back over the broken battlefield and ash and blood on Anzor from the successful strike but bit back his words. Fools, the lot of them, running in with their primitive weapons in their haste to end a situation that was well in hand. Glory did not enter in to his considerations. Many luxuries did not. There was a sudden urge to teach the bloodied halfling just what he could do with his 'little pea-shooter' but bit that back as well. That was the weapon speaking into his mind and he could not afford to let the weapon's hunger to be used to color his thoughts and actions. He wielded the weapon, the weapon did not wield him.

"Do not confuse my motivations for your own, boy. You were lucky the Hellknight was along to see to the price of your bravado," is what he finally settled for. "Did any of you at least look for other attacks?" He flicked the stub of his cigarillo off the edge of the tower, a cascade of sparks tumbling into the smoke and distance. His eyes settled on Penance for a second, but then moved to take stock of the assembled, the startling amber orbs seemed more like stones than human eyes and seemed to read far too much from a single simple look. The gradual study ended upon Revelry whom he watched for a second, head turning to a slight angle before looking back out upon the ruined city.

[ICN]

Alerdene nods to the Waster when he returns. "Nicely done."

[Mornings]

The Highest Tower
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:19 AM

The Ramparts:
The Highest Tower (Combat)

The Ramparts
The group assembled once more at High Tower, the battle ended. The knight winced seeing Anzor's condition as they returned, also noting the unscathed nature of The Waster. Things could have gone very wrong, very quickly - suffering losses they could not afford. He was unsure how to feel. Anger at Revelry? She had been the one to tell them after all, in her own demented way. Shame at himself for failing to ensure The Regalia had been gathered, rather then seeing himself through the portal first? Tilly laid a hand on his armored shoulder bringing him back from his thoughts. He looked to the gunslinger speaking sternly, " As skilled a fighter as you are, just as is your life... That decision was not your own to make. We've already lost two Regalia, a price and wound from which we will never recover - should we have lost you as well, our efforts would have no doubt been crippled. Please do remember the importance of your own life. Had The Messenger not left, things could have easily turned out much differently." He sheathed his heavy sword moving to Anzor's side. " You should be careful as well my short friend. Fortune was on your side this time, but continue to play at games of Sudden Death and 50 victors will mean nothing - when you can loose only once. " Tilly frowned, " Don't be so mean. The 'Quiet One' and 'Shorty' were really cool. Besides, sure - they might be a little squishy. But if they can't defeat a few little guys, how are they going to beat the big bad guys? Right? " The knight-paladin looked over his shoulder with a soured expression. " Unfortunately Tilly, not all creatures are born as dense and harty as you. However, The Regalia's power has nothing to do with their physical prowess, or how well they are able to swing a sword. It is entirely reliant upon the strength of The Dawn Shards within them that they cultivate over time. Your point is completely invalid. If they die now, the strength that will allow them to defeat the big or small 'bad guy', will never be developed - you of all people should know this... " She tilted her head, one eye closed and her mouth twisted up as she furrowed her brow as if attempting to recover some memory - the dusty squeak of a wheel turning in her oft underused mind was almost audible. Then a light came into her eyes and she giggled, smacking her iron-clad fist into her head and sticking out her tongue playfully. " Ops. I forgot. Hehe. " Penance rolled his eyes shaking his head. " I will see to everyone's wounds. "

The Paladin raised his hands, gasping a holy symbol of a radiant sun in one of his gauntleted mitts. A golden 30ft circle of light formed around him. The High Tower radiated a dim glow of luminous energy as well. Various holy symbols carved into the stone beneath their feet sprung to life - consecrated ground. The paladin brought his hands together, lifting the holy symbol above his head. A massive sphere of light energy condensed around his fists, then with a violent gesture, he tore his hands apart from one another leaving his arms wide at his sides, unleashing a spherical wave of force. The light-wave washed over all of them, mending their wounds and stitching flesh. Strength returned. It had been white the ritual, taking a number of minutes to complete - yet it had removed all of the taint and vile damage that had been inflicted upon them, amplified by this sacred tower's divine seals.


Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:25 AM
The Ramparts
Penance turned back to the recovered group, looking at each of them, with a passing gaze at Revelry. She hadn't said a word the entire time, only looked to the ground - her silence didn't sit well with him. " Tilly, take The Regalia with you back to The Triodea. I'll go on ahead of you. I want to look into something. " She bobbled her head in the affirmative. " Okay. Don't get into any more trouble. " He turned away wishing them luck then took to the tower's stairs leading down to the streets of the city, vanishing from sight. Tilly turned back to The Waster as if something finally sunk in. " Oh. Um. No one really looked for 'other' things to fight - well, kind. Except 'Miss Strange', going on about some other enemies somewhere, doing something... or something... But oh well. Time to go everyone, and no running off! You'll get me into trouble! " She puffed out her cheeks, then proceeded to herd them down the stairs like children. They took the long spiraling stairs off High Tower to the streets below. Where had the clerics and guardsmen gone? Something had happened here, but for now that mystery could wait...


Daughter of Light:
Part 1: The Wild Hunt
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:38 AM

Star-Silver Plaza
Most of them had never been to Magnimar before, yet it was painfully obvious to any who had ever walked the streets of any city that something was amiss. Not a single soul could be heard or seen during the walk to the Star-silver Plaza, the junction in the east where the 3 districts of Naos, The Alabaster District and The Capital District met - a busy hub for trade and travel... or so it should have been. Instead women cloaked in strange sweeping white garbs stood like sentinels about the 250ft wide clearing. Trade stalls were toppled and destroyed, smears of blood could be seen dotting the glimmering silver-flecked marble streets. yet, no bodies could be seen. Tilly seemed to pay them no mind merrily herding the party along through the plaza towards a massive and elaborate marble theater. The Triodea. The cloaked woman seemed to pay them no heed as well. Revelry looked up to the sky. "...I see. But why her as well? ....But she will not accept The Fathers. They've taken the city. Oh yes. They've taken the city. Then High Tower was not taken? Oh, my. Hehe. What will they do with The Fathers? Surly they go to die? Should Revelry stop them? Should she stop them? The Stupid One doesn't know yet - The Priest has fled. But where? Where? Oh. I see. I see. Hehe. "

Revelry stepped up behind Sister Tilly, poking her on the shoulder, to which she turned around. Not bothering to speak, she instead grabbed the woman's shield arm and smashed it against the priestess's own face. A hard clack, like metal striking stone was audible, the woman staggered then fell to the stone with a dense thump like a sack of lead being dropped. The stone cracked under her weight. Revelry looked up to The Triodea, only some 40ft away. She spun on her foot, looking to Desril - as if expecting him to understand. "...They are not Dream People. But they do not hear My Lady's voice. You and those that are 'him'. Those that are not The Mothers. Those who are The Fathers, must not trust them. Kill. They will end. They will kill you. You cannot hear their Lady's voice. Tainted. Impure. Taint that must be purged. Yes. To them. Fear them. Fear The Sisters. The Shards they have as well. Like you. Like me. Like the dumb one. The Priest is gone. The High Tower with him. To where? My Lady knows. Some place with sea. Some place with sand. But where? The east? Blocked. They cannot go back. No. Don't go back. To The Sails - on wave and cutter - leave the walls. Leave. Find the Father. Defeat what lurks in depths. The Father has been betrayed, once, twice, and is now taken - by a son once his own. But first gather your own from pits where serpents run...Go.... Take the dumb one with you. Her Shard is wake and indomitable. Dense as she. Now go... " Tilly shook her head on the ground, her skin unmarred and un-bruised, blinking a few times she lumbered off the broken ground with a sour frown. " That was mean! Be good, or i'll give you a spanking! "

What could all of this mean?

Revelry. Sister Tilly and the party are all Regalia. Something has happened to Father Sipel - which is connected to the events that occurred at High Tower. He has fled the city, though Tilly is still in the dark of this - betrayed by those who wait for them, and betrayed again by another again after his escape - now held captive. Tilly's Shard has awakened, granting her unnatural divine power - she is capable of aiding them in the struggle to come


Ranting of fathers and mothers? What do parents have to do with this?

The terms 'The Father', 'The Mother' and 'The Sister' were titles once used long ago by the nobles and the faithful after the war to refer to men who bore the blessing of Dawn. Women who bore the blessing of Dawn, and young women who took to the faith, becoming priestesses. The original priestly order was only available to those who were of The Regalia and females, as they possessed the ability to commune with the life-giving forces beyond which connected them to the god who had departed. The titles fell into disuse except out of a small number of traditional priestly orders.

Perhaps something with ships...

A common name for The Bazaar of Sails in Magnimar's docks, where goods and transportation of every kind of variety could be found. No doubt, some mode of travel out of the city existed still which would provide a secure escape from whatever was going on.

Snakes don't have legs...

A famous monument in The Alabaster District - Serpent's Run had become a massive coliseum for battle and sport for many years. A historical site of entertainment for the city... Now prisoners fight for the amusement of its city's people.

(Cohorts and other NPCs gained during this level are behind held prisoner in Serpent's Run and must be liberated before they can join the party.)


The massive carved doors of The Triodea slowly opened - a cloud of strange animated mist-like energy roiled out like a stream dimming the pitiful rays of light that crept through the heavy grey clouds. An artificial night, lined with glowing spheres of dancing lights. From the great vastness of creeping darkness emerged a great angelic figure. She towered some 7ft tall, flanked by great feathered wings of enormous stature. They each recognized her - very few could not. It was perhaps one of the most iconic faces in the realm, perhaps one of the mightiest of the ancient Sword Regalia - The Lady Light. Her true name had been lost with history, but Lady Light was a figure impossible to mistake, bringing both awed and fearful thoughts. Though she was perhaps one of the most powerful of The Regalia, and favored of the Luminous God himself, she did not fight with her brethren. Rather, she instead turned against them - fighting against The Regalia for reasons unknown. Yet, even with the defeat of humanity's enemy, she was neither banished nor imprisoned with her allies. Some believe it was simply because she was too powerful to be bested in combat and instead left to her own devices - but it was common belief and preached in the faith that Lady Light was the daughter of Dawn. An unconfirmed 'truth' accepted by the common folk of the realms, and her passing brought forth both hope, and despair to an uncertain people - though she had done nothing to merit either response within the last century, living in seemingly uneventful isolation... Now she was here. The white cloaked women gathered about her.

" Welcome, young ones... blessed Regalia. We have eagerly awaited you. Please join us. "

The Lady Light, as her reputation clearly details - is one of the strongest of The Sword Regalia, and now possibly the strongest of The Regalia who now remain. The divine, (and Mythic) entity possesses vast power which quelled and defeated Dawn's forces many times. The young Regalia-Recruits (the party) stand no chance in direct combat against her - a fact known by each of them.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/sample-73a733de42271b22b4c480c9d447ac61%20-%20Copy_zpsktfab3sy.jpg

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor had gotten the gist of what the madwoman had said. **** everything- he thought, not a day of rest and they needed to get out. But where the hell was lady Ravenwood? If the situation was like this, he'd prefer to be aware of her confirmed fall in battle-abandoning a fellow hellknight in this place was akin to betrayal to the mutual trust amongst Cheliax's elites. The knight looked deeply entrenched in thought if anything.

As the Daughter of Light came to view, Kravor's steps shifted, making him remain close to Anzor. They needed a way out, and fast. Asmodeus's beard, this is not funny. Not at all. I'd rather go through pain training with Zon Kuthon's priests again.

[grumblyarcher]

The Ramparts

Penance's chiding finally drew a response out of the Waster which was not merely mild annoyance. Amber eyes snapped to Penance's face. The gaze felt inhuman. It was as though some sort of primordial predator from prehistory was studying the knight, something that lurked in the shadows and claimed the weak and unfit, only allowing itself to be seen when it chose to. Something that was fortunately restrained to the form of a man. The Waster's anger was not something simple.

Then, as quickly as the metaphorical weight was applied, the Waster was back to mild annoyance, back to a forgettable, grouchy loner.

"I know my limits, knight, see to your own," if it was possible to turn the word 'knight' into something demeaning, the Waster would have succeeded. His piece said, the Waster promptly lost interest in further discussion of the matter. He had made his calls and did not see a flaw in them. He had given as much explanation as he thought the events warranted.

The Daughter of Light

The Waster followed the others back to the Triodea. Somewhere between the tower and the Triodea, he had produced yet another cigarillo from somewhere and lit it, looking bored now. He was unfazed by the proceedings, no more worn or tense than when he had been riding here in the wagon with Father Sipel.

He quirked an eyebrow as the gate opened and light poured forth. Even the stubborn shadows that clung to his person were purged by it. Faced with the looming presence he squared his shoulders and proceeded to do something completely surprising. It was something so out of the ordinary that only those witnessing it would have believed it.

The Waster took his hat off and placed it over his heart before giving the slightest bow to the Daughter, little more than an inclination of his head. It was likely the first time any of the assembled had seen him make an effort to show respect to anyone outside of Father Sipel.

"If it is all the same to you, Lady, I'd rather not. The city is not exactly secure at the moment. We can speak here as easily as elsewhere."

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo

Anzor and Fargo were both a bit confused during the ramblings of the crazy woman. They shot each other a look to confirm they were both on the same bewildered page. One thing they weren't confused about however was that the city was empty. Here, in the Triodea, where Anzor brought Father Sipel, was only the Lady of Light, the betrayer. A chill ran down Fargo's spine and he hewed close to his brother. Ready for a quick getaway if needed.

Neither of them knew what to do. They had discussed the Lady of Light many times over the years. Was there a good reason for her betrayal? Or had she gone over to the forces of evil? They never had a good answer. But now, with her staring them in the face, all their many questions simply disappeared. Unable to think of anything to say, the two of them just stood there dumbstruck, waiting for the others to speak.

[ICN]

Alerdene floats gently along with the others, listening with good-natured bemusement to the rantings of the oracle. She eyes the streets of the city with obvious distaste and starts casting Fly on the members of the group. "We are Regalia. Do try not to spoil our image."

When the Daughter of Light appears, Alerdene stares at her in fascination. So she does exist. I was almost convinced that she was a myth.

[Desril]

Desril

Finally managing to make a little sense out of the insane Revelry, the half-fiend looks at her curiously for a moment before turning to the party. "It seems there's a way out of Magnimar at the docks, but the enemy has captives detained at the old Serpent's Run...and Father Sipel has been betrayed and captured as well," he explains, not bothering to talk around the subject to spare anyone's feelings due to the time limit they're all on, though he doesn't mention the shard of Tilly's, not fully understanding it yet.

Seeing the Lady Light before them, Des moves to stand in front of the rest of the party. "You all stole all the glory from that last creature, I'll deal with her. The rest of you head to Serpent's Run and see about rescuing the prisoners," he says before turning his attention to the Daughter of Dawn. "Curious that you should show up here. Do you mean to oppose us?"

[Mornings]

Daughter of Light:
Part 1: The Wild Hunt
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:38 AM

Star-Silver Plaza
The Lady of Light looked down upon them with a bored visage. An expression caught between a callous layer of contempt, and a haughty pedestal - as if looking down upon a congregation of insects. By her tone and posture, the whole charade could very well have been a chore, as if driven more by duty then desire. She rolled her eyes at the passing comments, ignoring The Waster, and Kravor, as if it was too bothersome to humor the side-remarks. Sister Tilly looked at Desril, then to the interior of The Triodea, then back to the half-fiend - tears welling in her eyes. "W-What? W-Why is Father gone!? ...That's, so mean! Where did he go! " She suddenly burst into tears, a loud whining wail, as if caught in a crying fit. The troubled celestial cringed at the priestess's snot-nosed bawling. " Ugh. Cease that irritating croaking!" She choked on her own tears, replying in slurred speech,
" ...Buwt. Buwt. Fawder... Fawder.. Is-Is... He gwon! " - She resumed her loud mournful wailing, making The Lady of Light visibly flinch. She replied curtly, with a humorless tone; " ...Very well. Then, if you'd be so kind. Remove yourself from my sight. Your behavior is unsightly. " The lamenting priestess wiped the mucus running down her face with her sleeve, " Soww-y " Before the priestess could even finish the word, the irritated angel swept her hand through the air tossing Sister Tilly into the sky with an explosive force - stone and all. The marble tiles she had been sitting upon ripped from the earth and jettisoned into the sky and out of sight, taking the priestess with it... A short moment of silence passed. Then without warning the ground and the air violently trembled from the shockwave of the blast unleashed far in the distance as Sister Tilly came back down from the sky, crashing headfirst deep within The Alabaster District. The explosion that followed her collision with the earth was something similar to a building loaded with gunpowder being fired down from the sky. The Blessed Sisters who stood about the theatre staggered about, regaining their footing as a pillar of grey smoke rose into the air far in the distance. The Lady raised a curious brow, " Well, that was interesting. " Revelry shrugged behind Desril as she slipped up closer to him to run her hand on his rear as she spoke. " Hehe. Yes. Yes... because what weighs upon the heart, weighs upon the body. "

...The words sounded familiar. Perhaps you've heard it before.

An old saying of the old priests after the war. It was said the sacrifice to seal the black gate weighed heavily upon Dawn's heart, and left him unable to lift his sword again - burdened down with guilt.

The power Sister Tilly possesses from her Shard seem to emulate The Sword of Dawn in some manner, as her body's weight increases with her tormented heart and thoughts.

The Lady turned her head in thought. " Hm. Fascinating... But to the matter at hand..." Her violet glowing eyes rolled over, resting upon the half-fiend coldly. Her frown was weighted, but the scorn in her eyes was palpable and her reply was aloof " ...Oppose you? Simple child. I've no intention to 'oppose' the purpose of The Regalia - but do you? The Old Priest has let you live in blissful ignorance for far longer then should be allowed. The Regalia are tools. You are a tool. A tool to be employed by one such as myself. Your purpose is my own to dictate. You are but the vessels for The Shards. The only freedom you possess is but a single choice. Abide by your purpose, and fulfill The Shard's design - or 'relinquish' your Shard and return to dust... Your predecessors were foolish, and now they are nothing. The price of their pride. I have not the time or patience to contend with every animal that thinks themselves 'special', not with the enemy encroaching upon this world again. Thus, I will offer you the same choice I offered them."

" Swear to me your eternal fealty, and submit to my will... Or relinquish your Shard. Decide. "

The Lady of Light is evidently entangled in a number of other matters - but her concern is far less with The Regalia, and rather with an unknown enemy. Perhaps this is the reason for her betrayal centuries ago? Perhaps Father Sipel had kept them in the dark. In either case, she is not lying, however she wears a strong front - while the matter is truly not within her own control. Something else weighs upon the strings in the dark. Her hand is now being forced to act... but what now forced her from isolation? It was impossible to know.

~ The Waster passes

The Lady of Light is embattled with some other unknown enemy which the young Regalia are ignorant of. According to her, all of The Sword Regalia which stood to defend against the forces of The Black Gate are now gone. With the exception of those that now wandered the realm - and those too young to have marched upon the gate.

The Blessed Sisters slowly move forward in preparation for the worst, and the use of force if they must. The Lady of Light offers The Regalia a choice, to serve her or 'relinquish' their Shard of Dawn.

~ Choice 1: The party may choose to serve The Lady of Light and battle the enemy which lurks within the depths of Magnimar to take back the city, and the mysterious enemy which encroaches upon the creatures of the material plane from beyond - Begin: The Reaping Hollow (Ultimate Evil)

~ Choice 2: The party instead decides to forsake the offer and must flee the city as The Blessed Sisters attempt to capture The Regalia and take The Shards by force - Escape Magnimar, Begin: Death at Sea (PoEN)

[grumblyarcher]

There was almost an audible twang as the thin thread that was Waster's attempt at respect snapped under the Daughter's egotistical response. The monster rose up inside of him demanding satisfaction from this trumped up bruiser. She was exactly like every gang boss who thought they could push anyone they wanted around. She wanted him to be a tool something to be used. The inhuman stare of the Waster's cold fury returned, taking stock, performing the equations of brutality but it vanished quickly. The course to satisfaction over this insult would be a long one, he added her to a growing list of figures in this theatre of mud and misery that needed to be taken down a peg and taught fear.

"Piss on that," the Waster said with a snort of derision, putting his hat back on and half turning away from the Daughter. Every line of his body language dismissing her as an overpowered footpad. She may have the power to carve her name into mountains but she was still beneath the Waster. It was not a matter of raw power or even subtle power, it was whether you were the tool or the hand that guided it.

"I wield the weapon, the weapon does not wield me. Neither do you, glowbug," He took the cigarillo out of his mouth and examined the smoldering tip, reaching a decision on what seemed to be a far more important to him than the current situation and flicked it at the feet of the Daughter's minions and turned to walk away, "Ash me if you want. You want me to do something, you better start with payment or damn well say please. Learn how to lie while you're at it. Blustering is never comely even on a tall gal like you."

He did spare a glance to the others, some kind of thought churning behind his eyes. If they made the right call then perhaps they were not the fools he had so far seen.

[Desril]

Desril

The half-fiend's sigh was audible as the grumbling gunner took charge, Well, so much for diplomacy...still, maybe I can put out the fire before the bridge burns down entirely.

Stepping in front, Desril looks toward Lady Light while keeping himself ready to act at a moment's notice. "What he means to say is; While we wouldn't be opposed to working with you, none of us are content to be mere attack dogs to be ordered about, and we've other matters to tend to at the moment. You say we can only choose between servitude or obliteration? I disagree...and the fact that after his little speech we're all still standing means that you know I'm right and that there's a third option. So when you're willing to work with us," he says with growing, but concealed, irritation, disliking the idea of being used as a tool just as much as the Waster "feel free to send a messenger. But until then, farewell."


Readied action to cast Ascendent Extended Confusion on the sisters if they do anything like try to stop us. I don't have a map so I can't aim it properly but presumably I can hit all 8 of them with it. DC 26.

[Mornings]

Daughter of Light:
Part 1: The Wild Hunt
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Eastern Ramparts; High Tower - 6:38 AM

Star-Silver Plaza
The Lady of Light looked off into the distance, the mask of contempt seemingly unchanged, as if expecting such a response, as if her attention were elsewhere. Perhaps she would have been truly surprised if the group had actually agreed. Indeed the words were more of a formality - she had already raised her hand as The Waster moved to speak, as if she had only been half listening from the start. The priestesses around her held a tense silence, lifting their gaze from the ground revealing the faces under the hoods. Strange and intricate ritualistic branding covered their flesh, producing a light glow beneath the flesh. One of the priestesses sharply turned to Lady Light - she appeared different from the others, distinguished by the black paint which colored the holy brands upon her face and skin. " Matron. Please still your hand. " The celestial's golden orbs rolled over to the outspoken woman, responding with a dry monotone groan. " ...What is it this time, E'Se. " The priestess glanced back briefly at the half-fiend. " You've not even provided them time to consider your offer. " The angel tilted her head in thought, " ...Did I not? " " My lady, were you even listening to your audience? " She looked over to the group, they hadn't been a source of her attention since she cast the whining priestess away. She sighed, all these obligations where so troublesome - she had not the patience to tolerate the monotony of it all. " ...Not at all. I've not the patience nor time to listen to each and every bit of fodder which blows across my path. What's more only a handful have considered my offer as well. Far simpler is it to just be rid of them." The priestess nodded, " Of course my lady, however, in your haste you've given no mind to a number of critical factors. " She seemed to have the celestial's attention now. " ...Those being, what? " Gesturing over to the group, " In your haste, you nearly smite The Oracle, with The Regalia. An act which would have caused us all much grievance. But lastly, not all of them are against joining us - though they are seemingly preoccupied with other matters. We only require The Oracle. Let us take her, and let The Regalia go to consider their choice. They've no guidance without The Priest or The Oracle, and thus cannot contest us, nor would attempting to flee the city possess any merit without direction. Regardless what it is they decide, they are at your mercy, Mistress. " She pursed her lips while placing her finger over her mouth as if in thought, she hadn't given any thought at all to those in front of her, there wasn't time to entertain such thoughts - but having an autonomous tool, easily disposable. " ...Hm. As always, a fair point. I'd not even given the situation any consideration. Very well, then. We'll do things your way." She looked down at the group with a mischievous grin, " ...I suppose this is checkmate. Be thankful for my merciful Speaker. Take your leave... We will speak again."

Revelry, snapped out one of her curved black blades, glancing back at Desril, speaking with haste. " Take the Dream People and recover the dim wit. Flee with Sails. Follow the north. The Priest lays beneath the point of water, earth and sand! " She viciously brought the blade up and slashed open her own throat. A spray of blood, then a flash of pale mist, the snap of fingers. She was gone. The Lady of Light shook her head, rolling her eyes. " ...She always is so, dramatic. " She blew the smoky mist off her hand, as if it was some form of firearm. " ...I leave the rest to you E'Se. I take my leave. " The celestial vanished in a cloud of pale smoke. Lady Light was gone.

E'Se turned to the group, " Forgive the unpleasantness of my Mistress, she can be somewhat abrasive at times. I am E'Se, High Priestess of Light. I've spared your souls from a particularly unpleasant fate. In 18 hours, you will be unable to escape the city. Stay, and we will consider this matter settled - my Lady's offer, accepted. Flee, and consider having made enemies of The Church of Light. My mistress does not require you, only your Shards. An object she may easily claim upon your death... but I find such behavior uncivil, if not, barbaric - especially towards Dawn's Chosen. Should you not accept... Never again show your face before my Lady again - for she will smite you without hesitation.. or, thought. " She glanced at the half-fiend again, a blush in her cheeks. She cleared her throat, mumbling briefly. " ...Shield your face before priests of light. Those who leave their visage visible to The Sacred Spirits shall be smitten, should they draw their ire... Farewell. " The priestesses lowered their heads to the ground again, as if in unison, the massive billowing hoods of their religious robes draping down to their chest, masking their faces once again. A gust of air blew into the plaza, the forms of the priestesses dissipated into mist.

Revelry was gone. The priestesses were gone. E'Se faded with a grin - The Plaza was left empty, almost. They still needed to rescue the others from Serpent's Run. A pillar of smoke rose in the far distance, they still needed to recover Tilly - they needed to escape the city before the day was done, if they planned to escape at all... but why? The answer came to them in the form of a sickening series of wet snaps and grunts. At the side of The Triodea some strange nude fleshy four armed creature ripped and tore chunks of bloodied flesh from the corpse of a merchant. It had two large powerful legs, easily 5ft long, four long and muscled taloned arms, but no head. The top of the beasts torso ended in an eyeless maw of teeth - as if a man had been decapitated and the massive hole that was neck and torso had been animated to become a large mouth filled with rows and rows of black-gleaming steel-like teeth. The grey flesh hung from the creature's frame like a leathery cloak... The creature, paused, as if taking note of the living creatures behind it - but continued its bloody feast as if ignoring those behind it.

A term sometimes heard by the old a seasoned sailors in Dockway. As to what it is referring to, few still remember. Perhaps an old sailor may know from where the term originated or referred.

The party only has today to decide to flee the city or stay within it, before the choice is no longer theirs.

[grumblyarcher]

The Waster spat on the ground in the direction the holy congregation had been standing, "This whole city needs to wrench their heads out of their asses. Candlesticks, rotters, and Regalia alike."

No, he would not show his face to the Lady again. He had a job to do here and he was going to do it. After that, assuming he was not dead, he might spend a few days teaching the Light to fear the dark. He did not need to show his face to do that. He would need some serious advantages but it should not be that hard to get the better of them. If a priestess has to talk sense into her goddess then that goddess is not very bright in the metaphorical sense. He supposed a creature that powerful got very used to solving their problems in only one way. When you only have a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. That does not lend to a tendency for tactical thinking.

All he had to do right now is keep his eyes open and move carefully, something he was already very good at. Present concerns involved getting a better handle on the situation, they had spent too long off balance and reacting. It was time to get some information and start actually addressing the problem.

"Let's get the Father, figure out what the Hell is going on here, and start depopulating the place." He drew his revolver casually, as concerned about the beasty as it was with him.

[ICN]

Alerdene watches the proceedings with muted interest. When the ensemble disappears she glances at the nearby creature, her posture disdainful, while the ethereal blades swirling around her reorient to face it. "I am not opposed to leaving this city. The scenery is utterly dreadful here. Should that put us at odds with the Lady of Light, so be it. Better to be the star of the show than a mere extra."

[Desril]

Desril

Looking contemplative, "So, we're to make enemies with a goddess then? For some reason this strikes me as unbearably familiar...I must've read too many books."

Shaking his head, "Head to Serpent's Run, I can catch up easily enough, but I want to find Revelry first. Oh, and if you find a sailor, ask them about that place she mentioned, it has something to do with the dockway." He looks toward her body, or rather, the blood stains where her body should have been, muterring. "I'm sure she'll be around here somewhere..."

[OzzyKP]

Anzor & Fargo

"I have no interest in making enemies of the Lady of Light. We have enough enemies and cannot afford to make more for silly matters of pride. There is no place for ego in a conflict like this. If following the Lady of Light is the best way to stop the evils that plague our world, then we should do it. That's all there is to it. But we have no need to decide right now. We should save those people in Serpent Run and save Father Sipel first. Whichever path we choose, more allies and more guidance will be essential." said Anzor.

Fargo nodded his head in agreement with his older brother and then added, "I'm also concerned that we haven't seen Tanca yet. She should have gotten here by now.. Do you think she might be over in Serpent Run too?"

"Only one way to find out," Anzor said, "Let's go."

He grabbed onto Fargo & Kravor and ported over toward Serpent Run. After dropping them off he returned to gather the others, two by two.



Since we're out of combat, I assume I can just do a hand wave and bring everyone over.

[Mornings]

Daughter of Light:
Part 1: The Wild Hunt
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Alabaster District; West Side - 6:42 AM

Serpent's Run
The travel from one place to another, ferrying the group through Alabaster was not the difficult part, rather, it was locating Serpent's Run itself. The old coliseum seemed to linger in the distance, ever out of reach - as if some optical illusion kept it within sight, yet held at bay. After much struggle, they discovered only by following the city streets could the space between them be closed... Something was amiss within The Alabaster District.

Behind them, the massive billowing cloud from where Tilly had fell from the grey sky, continued to throw smoke into the air. The crash-site had been impossible to see, or reach, laying deep within the residential side of the district - away from the roads. The massive monument of stone now loomed over them. Strangely, there were no doors, nor entrance visible into the circular citadel. Massive cheering could be heard within, the vicious roar of a bloodthirsty crowd. Try as he might, Anzor's teleportation would not bring him within the sealed structure, in fact magic at all seemed to act strangely within close proximity to the ancient structure.

A man with a large feathered hat covering the side of his face and a burning stick of devilweed in his mouth leaned against the stone wall. He quietly played a lute made of strange black wood. He glanced up at the group as they approached, the clearing around him was slick with gore, as if mutilated bodies had been dragged through the clearing, or a pile of such bodies had once been placed here, staining the stone. The man looked the part of a bard. Patchwork-cloak. Fine vestments, and an elegant trim to his beard. "Hm. Well, now - quite the interesting lot here. Welcome to Serpent's Run, not many folk still venture West Side... Stay to the streets, or you'll get lost in 'The Reach'. Easy to get in, hard to get out... Ah, where's my manners. Name's Bard.. Aaron Bard. Of course that's not my real name, but why'd I tell you my real name? Heh."

"If you're trying to get in, you're out of luck. The place's sealed, shut tight. The Church were the last who knew how to use the entrance... but they don't come this far out."

Few still remember the events which took place in Magnimar during the war. What few records which remained had been lost, others lost in the destruction. After The Liberation, the first victory in Korvosa by The Regalia, Dawn had separated from his forces to lead an attack alone, elsewhere. The Regalia took their momentum and launched an attack upon the forces which occupied The City of Monuments. It would prove to be the first defeat The Sword Regalia would face. A crushing massacre, hardly fit to be called a battle. The Lady of Light, leading the enemy's defense defended the city alone - casting down the armies of Dawn with a single hand. The nameless energies she carelessly released upon the world consumed the vast majority of the allied forces, casting them to some plane unknown. The rift closed, yet left a terrible spellscar upon the metaphysical space which it had occupied. Time bent and twisted, magic of non-divine nature acted unexpectedly, or functioned not at all. The space between objects no longer seemed relative. People, things and places seemed to come in and out of existence within the damaged space known as West-Side. After many years, The Church of Dawn secured the streets to a degree, allowing passage - but for the most part, the West-Side remained uninhabitable and isolated from the rest of the city.

[Tuvarkz]

Kravor considers trying to scare the man in front of them into telling them how to get in, but reconsiders given the nature of the place, asking instead: "And would you tell us a way to get in, then? There's a few contacts we need to get out of there and we need to have them by the docks before midnight."
((Activating Blessed Correction to roll Diplomacy twice and take highest of two rolls))
[roll0]
[roll1]

[ICN]

While Kravor speaks to the man, Alerdene flies around the outside of the structure, keeping a goodly distance to avoid the distortion of magic closer to the building, and scanning it for a way in.

Perception: [roll0]

[Desril]

Desril

Scowling as he looks up at the door, the half-fiend sighs and shakes his head. "We're going to need to keep moving, I guess. This guy isn't wrong, we need a member of the church to get through, and we apparently can't fly or teleport to get to where Tilly ended up." Looking down the road, "Let's just get going, she's probably hurt and I'd rather not wait around any longer than I have to."

Looking at the new guy, he points toward where the priestess landed, "I don't suppose you can show us the quickest route there, can you?"

[Mornings]

Daughter of Light:
Part 1: The Wild Hunt
AR 4990, 17th of Rova, Starday;
Day 18: The Alabaster District; West Side - 6:42 AM

Serpent's Run
Bard looked to Kravor then Desril scratching the back of his head, then looked off to the pillar of smoke rising in the distance. "I'm afraid it's just as I've said. You'll need a member of the church to enter, even I cannot... but I'm rather hesitant to try my luck going back the way I came." He furrowed his brow looking at Tilly's crash site as if trying to wrap his head around that element. "Strange... I don't remember that being there a moment ago. If that is where one of your friends is, it appears they have managed to land quite deep in The Reach. The Noble Houses, or where they once existed - during the war were once located in that area. It was one of the places most greatly effected, I've not actually ventured that far myself, though I've heard there are violent contained surges of Primal Magic. The simplest way of reaching their would just be walking...but..." He frowned, glanced back at the group. "I recommend caution, I've gotten lost in areas far less distorted then the residential district within Alabaster. May I recommend perhaps, fixing a rope to lamp posts back here to the street? It has worked for me during my urban-ventures. Reaching the street again will return you from the distorted zones which may displace you. Typically, it's not very dangerous... But this deep within Alabaster, creatures or what where once men, caught within these 'pockets' of time - of past or future have been... 'changed' by the Spellscar. This is actually the first time I've managed to even venture to Serpent's Run myself..."

"I'm something of an 'urban explorer', venturing into the lost parts of the city, recording the various states of damage, or recovery these 'forbidden zones' are under. Honestly, I advise against traveling that far into Alabaster. One of my employees, a highly skilled scout - mind you, has been the only one in perhaps a decade that has ventured that deep into that mess. By her account, the Primal Events have increased in frequency - it is likely the zone will not be recoverable for perhaps another century when things calm down... I can't tell you, 'you can't go', but I would feel better if you didn't. I could have my scouts recover your friend for you by the end of the day... If you're going to go though, at least take this." The man slid off the bag on his back and tossed it over to Kravor, it was filled with 5 neatly bound sets of silk rope, 50ft lengths each. "This is the bare minimum you'll need, though not enough for the lot of you... though enough to provide one of you a fair 250ft length. Hopefully your friend has wandered toward us and away from the crash site, otherwise, you'll require much more rope... Please bare in mind though, we never venture so deep without 3 man teams with Nullstone Golems, a few thousand feet of rope, and spotters to tend to the scout's lifelines. Magic is dangerous, unpredictable, or simply useless within the deeper zones of Alabaster and we need to rely on more mundane methods... If you return with me to Naos, you could more properly outfit yourselves, but there is little more I can do here."

Traveling into the damaged and distorted zone can easily lead to the party becoming lost, but returning back to the paved street will return them back to their proper place. What awaits within the unpredictable zone?

The party may instead choose to venture back the way they came through Starsilver Plaza to the district of Naos to Bard's center of work. Outfitting themselves to better handle the challenges.

Bard's team of scouts can venture into Alabaster and rescue Tilly themselves, however due to the large time spent on preparations, rigging, and venturing into the forbidden zone - the job will not be complete until 11:30pm