[PF] Apotheosis Act I: Perdition of a Maledictive Eternity (IC)

[Mornings]

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy_zpss9xbpgoc.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/burn1_zpsiwoqoeys.jpg




...Why now? Perhaps this was the end. A miserable end, left torn and bloodied in some world which was not their own. No closer to answers. No closer to the truth. Only to find an inglorious death, far away from those they knew - to pass quietly - unremarkably, from the world of the living. If it all had been for nothing, if their lives had been for nothing... what had they lived for? What had they fought for? Regret. It was like a poison. The looming burden of an unfulfilled life crushing down upon each of them.



http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpso3wqbjli.jpg




Everything was hazy, their minds wandered as their vision flickered in and out of focus - obscured as it was by their own blood; The world was a dreadful length of tape, keyed in red and broken by sanguine frames to divide their own passing thoughts... They couldn't remember... remember how it even came to this. How had this all begun? The light of the world seemed to dim. It was cold. The smoke of the burning trees choked them... Perhaps the whole world was aflame, burning as their life blood watered the black roses that lay beneath them. Numb. It didn't hurt anymore. They didn't feel anymore... everything seemed to move with such a lethargic pace, as if time had found the night and took his rest. Tired. It took all the will one could muster to fight back the waves of lethargy. Eye lids were lead, breathing - slow. It didn't matter anymore;

The children stepped through the field of petals, laden with stray limbs and eviscerated piles of bloodied flesh. The gore, covered the black field, painted by the shade of the dark roses. Their faces were obscured, covered by white death veils, blurring their features. The dancing red flame clung to their frail bodies like a shroud. Quietly tip-toeing through the bodies of the fallen Pathfinders, they grabbed the unconscious Serra'Tal, their precious friend, and begun to drag her away. She was alive. They had shielded her from the terrible fate which had befallen them - but now, they could do no more...



http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpso3wqbjli.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpso3wqbjli.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/burn2_zpszrhmtcwj.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpso3wqbjli.jpg




Calm. They had done all they could - all they could have done. Their role, their place, in this world - was done. Now they could... Familiar. Sleep... Sleep? A sense of Deja Vu came with the thought. Every waking moment seemed to be filled with the pain of uncertainty and loss. Would it finally come to an end? Could they let it all come to pass...

No. They remembered now. They would never rest. They were cursed by his will. They could remember, if in part, how it all had begun. With a black book, an ancient relic protected by The Elders... It was forbidden, yet they had read from its pages in secret. The rest was only a blur, but when they woke from the catatonic sleep - Serra'Tal was with them - and as if by instinct, they knew they must protect her. Yet... this was not the first time they had failed... No. This was not the first time they had died. They would never rest. They would never sleep. Not while their souls still remained. Not while Serra was still in danger... Not while Valper Galilei, The Sun King, and his Curse still bound their souls to his service - To defend his daughter. To defeat The Dusk Queen. To defend the world where he had been born.

The magical flame crept into the black field. The raging inferno roared as it ignited the remains of their mutilated bodies. There was no pain anymore. There was thoughts left for a dying mind to process. The world seemed to drift away as their bodies writhed and twitched in their burning death spasms as the end came. There was only darkness...



http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpso3wqbjli.jpg




Perhaps they were falling, falling from the mortal realm to The Court of Pharasma to be judged by their deeds and pass unto the Otherworld. But it was short lived... the fall ceased, as they opened their eyes - standing before an unnaturally tall spectral figure, holding a familiar black book... They did not remember, yet their souls moved as if compelled, circling about the kind-faced man who bore an exotic bronzed complexion. His shadow was foreboding, haunting, like some grisly reaper. He opened the book silently, flipping to an early section of the book. He did not speak, yet some wordless translation was imparted to them, as if by the tome. Chapter 1 ...Their lives had only been a single Chapter to the unearthly artifact. So short... Indeed, they were not even destined to have died. It was not their time - yet it came just the same. Free will still defined how long, how short their lives had been - but they would live again... Live again, yet loose what they once had. Each time a piece of them died, or rather, the person that was did not return - changed by the world and experiences vastly different from the person that had been. Their souls remained, yet they were given a new life. A new body. There was no 'past', only the memory of what had been a past-life of another individual their soul had been... This was their curse. The price of foolish children's curiosity many lifetimes ago... Though one day, they would be free. The day, they found a life where Serra could grow into the woman who would succeed her mother and end the grim legacy she had left.

But this was all just a dream... wasn't it? None of this could have been real. It wasn't real. When they woke, they'd be back at The Lodge, and The Captain would swat them for sleeping in the middle of the day again. They'd wake up. They'd wake up and this would all be over. What was this terrible nightmare? Why wouldn't it end? They had to find Serra, right? They had to get up and tend to their morning duties. Gods. Why couldn't they wake!? ...Let it be a dream. Please, let it be a dream.



http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpso3wqbjli.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning_zpsl6n70shh.jpg



http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsumcptyjw.jpg





Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:25 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater



It was familiar. It was real. This pain...

With it, by it, they knew they were real - this was real. They woke. The reality of their condition quickly came spinning back into mind like some maddening cycle. One evil, replaced with another. The HavenGuard Offensive, as it was called, had begun - With the support of House Vronds, they moved in secret to strike at the heart of the underground movement and capture the proprietor of The Bloodtear Club. A handful of trusted soldiers loyal to the Brigadier General, and a number of Vronds swordsmen accompanied the rallied Pathfinders that had answered the Venture-Captain's call - Cal'vel Vronds lead the offensive himself, coordinating with The HavenGuard Lodge. The young man proved himself a fine tactician and commander. Finally, this night they'd have their answers... But all was not well.

The terrible memories came flooding back, accosting them like a swarm of viscous insects within their mind, burning, aching. Various teams had been formed to move upon Haraday with stealth, and converge as a single force, but something had happened... Captain Haldan had deployed them last with Cal'vel to initiate the mission upon reaching the theater. Yet, before the mission could even commence the bodies of their men were found littered about the exterior of Haraday as they rallied to commence the offensive. Somehow they had lost the element of surprise, but with no time but this night and the entrance to Bloodtear in reach - they had little choice. They boldly pressed on alone, confident in what numbers they had brought with them. There was no cause to fear of hostile retaliation with their forces seemingly routed before the battle could begin, but they were wrong. The enemy had not come for those left dead and dying, they had other plans completely - it was a trap...

It was all a blur. The explosion that threw them out of the catacomb's grim-abandoned reception chamber was not magical in nature. The stink of burning thermite and caustic vapors was not the work of some mage... The vampires were upon them in an instant. Slaughtering the wounded caught beneath burning rubble with unnatural strength - tearing them of their limbs. In an but the flash of a second the way forward and the vast majority of their allies had been whipped out. There was no victory to be found here, they had turned to retreat.

What awaited them, was someone they had never expected - It was her. Standing amid the bloodied stones, echoing with agonized cries. was Serra'Tal. She was older now, but the unearthly grace and white of her hair was unmistakable. The haunting figures at her sides pointed accusingly with cruel fingers croaking out in some unknowable tongue. A strange magic, neither divine nor arcane washed over them holding them in place. A thin and haunting figure clad in torn grey robes skulked from behind the dark congregation. She ran her long talon-like nails against the wall, melting bone and stone of the catacomb mortar. She cackled wickedly, throwing back her head in grim victory, revealing her face. Half beauty, half horror - the returned corpse of the witch, Effal of Nine-Talons lingered before them. Some twisted undead reflection of the feytouched hexer that once lived.

Put to death during the inquisition's witch burnings in a decade past. All of the grisly cowled figures lingering about the unearthly figure that was their friend seemed broken, hunched and covered with terrible wounds. Clad in sickly paste-white skin, they tightly encircled about Serra defensively, as if they were some pack of decaying guard dogs. The Wicked Witch of Talons gestured with a raised hand - the lights flickered out... Then came the screams...

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/blood_zpsv9nd0ang.jpg

Slaughter. No word was more fitting - half of the remaining men were still held by the petrifying gaze of the undead-coven. Then butchered like meek livestock. Throats slit with cruel talons, spilling crimson pools into the hard earth to water the buried bones packed into the dirt. Madness and fear, perpetuated by some cursed aura broke their ranks - flashes, born of sparks as steel cleaved into stone and metal - men flailed wildly in terror against friend and enemy alike. Death screams rattled the walls and the hearts of the trapped Pathfinders. Cal'vel's cry could be heard above the death-frenzy, calling for a hastened charge. They broke through the blockade, blood showering over them, dripping from the walls and ceiling as the light of the exit finally came into view.... A crash and explosion of violent force crushed them with a wave of super-cold. An energy unlike any they had seen came roiling into the world, freezing the ground and walls instantly. Spears of cruel and jagged ice ruptured forth from the ground and walls lifting them up and casting them out of the catacombs....

The Pathfinder's came flying out of the hidden pathway built into the wall behind Haraday Theater. Cal'vel, last in line grabbed Mirri tackling her out of the way of a 6ft pike of hissing ice. The massive pole impaled the knight and snapped in half sending them both into a sidelong tumble on the ground. The frozen blade, pierced into her shoulder from the brave knight's chest. He coughed a handful of blood into his gauntleted palm, rolling over to gasp for air. The wheezing of his hampered breaths, and the rhythmic whistle of air passing from his wound as the ice melted made evident his poor condition and punctured lung. With a shaking hand, he cut off a length of his own sleeve to cover the sucking-chest wound. "Eh... Heh. You've a nack for danger, cat. " His heavy steel-clad hand fumbled around blindly on the ground, as he grimaced, coughing blood - finally finding his trusted axe. "...Go. Leave me, I'm finished. I'll hold them off while I can."

Mili and Khellan caught in the flurry of frozen blades blocked by Cal'vel, tumbled into the street on their back's - unharmed. Though nearly skewered by the devilish witch's magic, they had been saved by Cal'vel's sacrifice. Aisolyn at the forefront of the retreat escaped danger completely, looking back to see her allies thrown to the hard cobblestone street. They were all covered with the gore of their allies - only they had made it. A meager half-dozen - with twenty good-men lost.

A condescending cackle echoed out towards them. The terrible screams had ceased... The witch, Effal stalked out of the darkness to stand over the fallen noble as she eyed the remnants of the would-be offensive - slick with gore. Her cruel hands hissed as the blood curdled on her nails, boiling from the horror-laden curses sealed within. Her malicious black, pupil-less eyes smiled - imagining which agonizing death she should visit upon her prey first... until...

A familiar voice spoke out from within the darkness in some strange tongue. Serra stood at the edge of the darkness, surrounded by the undead creatures - more rising to join them... the corpses of their allies. With an authoritative command Effal's plans were swiftly put to an end. It was a language they could not understand, perhaps some ancient tongue did Serra reprimand the unliving hexer. The intent was plain - She had denied the clawed-witch of her prey. A command she did not take well - howling in fury and lashing out at the air wildly with her vicious hands. She looked down at Cal'vel, stepping on his wound with her bare foot choking forth a painful grunt from the knight. She hissed down at them in the common tongue; "...Perhaps another time then."


Recalling the various greater forms of intelligent undead in various teachings. The returned witches, ushered an old memory to mind. Teachings from The Church of Pharasma of unspeakable practices, to recreate a slain entity as a perversion of its former self. A flesh-eating undead known as a Darakhul. While exceedingly uncommon, they were threat of notable mention. The creation of such creatures had been lost since the fall of The Whispering Tyrant - for the better of the realm. Yet, there was little doubt. The returned witches were indeed these Darakhul. Either truly living, nor unliving... Something else entirely.


A famous witch who had terrorized Caliphas for four decades from the shadow. Tales of her wickedness had become the stuff of local legend, retold to scare children countless times. A 'boogeyman' of sorts. But in truth, the tales were far less cruel then reality. The Witch of Talons had once been no more then a gypsy - born with the gift of natural divination, she was a skilled Oracle. But her gift became her obsession - she tirelessly strove to refine her gift, desiring not glimpses, but true vision of the future. A gift that had been lost since the death of Aroden. he would be the only one... Obsession became madness. An unquenchable hunger for power. She traded all she possessed in dark workings with The Abyss, she would be a god. Tainted beyond recognition, and vessel to a terrible nameless beast - she was unleashed upon the world as The Nine Taloned Witch, having had lost a finger on her left hand to her demonic-master.She hunted men and woman, consuming them to devour fragments of their souls.

In AR 4686 did the legend known today emerge of the Child-Devouring Witch. Having discovered the strength of children's souls, a string of terrible kidnappings and horrible murders plagued the city - particularly North Cushing's Steel Steward Orphanage. The Inqusition finally apprehended the witch in AR 4698, where she was beheaded and then burned publicly.

The witches turned away curtly, rallying about Serra as the dark coven turned to depart back into the bleak shadows of the catacombs. Pools of blood ran from the entrance like a river, issuing a sick splash with each of their steps in the muddied-red dirt. With a strange pause, the group stopped suddenly. Serra looked over her shoulder at the felled Pathfinders - her mouth moved wordlessly, as if she spoke in something less then a whisper...


Renka Passes Automatically by reading Serra's lips


Though it was brief, you are able to make out Serra's words: "Help me"

Mirri's wound spurt a gush of warm blood from her shoulder. The wound was deep. The wounded knight looked over to the Pathfinder's. "...Well. That went better then expected. I don't know what that was about, but we cannot let this opportunity be wasted. If we don't get to Bloodtear tonight, we never will. We can't stop now. The passage is blocked, but Bridgeman took her men into Haraday to secure that hidden pass Haldan mentioned. I won't let those men's death be for nothing... I know - guh... I know, it looks bad. But if we turn away now, it'll be a lot worse. I'd rather die with blade in hand then see my city burn." The knight dug out a small vial from his belt pouch, spitting out a glob of thick mucus and blood before downing the contents. The wound lessened in severity, but the bleeding did not stop...


Cal'vel and Mirri are both suffering from deep bleeding wounds. While not life-threatening currently, the wounds may become such if left untreated.

Wounded:
- The Character has suffered a grievous injury: 1 Point of Bleed Damage for 6 Rounds, beginning after this round.
Cure (DC15 Heal Check): curing the wound immediately ends this effect and prevents Bleed Damage.





Serra'Tal - Lost Sister
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/SeraTal_zpsnsfhyfdb.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

"Mirri!" Aisolyn's concerned for her friend momentarily overcame her anger at the ghastly witches and her shock at seeing dear Serra'Tal again. Rushing forward to lay hands on her, she focused her divine power through her ring to try and stop the bleeding. Friends first, allies later.

"Why would Serra be with those creatures? Why would she command them?"

Turning an angry glare towards Cal'vel, "Just what in the hells is The Bloodtear Club to have such monstrous allies?"

Knowledge (Religion) - [roll0] vs DC 18

Cannot attempt Knowledge (Local) because the DC is too high for an untrained check.

Perception - [roll1] vs DC 20

Aisolyn moves to Mirri and uses her Ring of Cure Light Wounds to heal her. After that has finished, she will heal the other bleeding allies and anyone else who has been injured. Bleeding out people first, with friends having priority.

[flat_footed]

Seeing Aisolyn at Mirri's side, Khellan addresses the gash left on Cal'vel's body. With so many questions running through his mind, Khellan knows these moments matter most. Focus on the hurt, then we shall get our answers. With a sharp word, almost a bark, to Fa'uka, he sets her to stay at his side amidst the confusion.

Turning to the wounded knight, Khellan's face looks unnaturally calm. His eyes had seen wounds far worse than this and his hands went through the motions with ease. As the bindings barely suffice to cover the blood and goop already there, Khellan steels a hard look around him once more.

Aisolyn's voice rings out from Mirri's side and Khellan stands up and looks around for any others that can be helped, keeping an ear out for the knight's response.

"There's a lot to answer for." Khellan breathes to himself. Anger was not a luxury he could afford while lives hung in the balance.

[Khosan]

Mili continued to lay there on the ground while everyone else began to busy themselves. Breathing heavily, she stared down the hall they'd all narrowly escaped from. Part nerves, part horror. Mostly nerves and old wounds. The slaughter hadn't spooked her half as much as the explosions had. She put her shield hand over her heart, attempting to slow the thumping within. The events that just unfolded were only just beginning to sink in and Mili needed a calm heart and mind to process all of it.

"We...We all saw her, right?" Mili sat up, wiping away some of the blood and gore from her mask. "I mean...I'm a bit out of sorts here," her voice trembled and she let loose a nervous chuckle, "but I...She was there. Serra was there." She cradled her head in her hands, "That wasn't just me, right?"

[flat_footed]

Khellan, hearing the strain in Mili's voice, starts to walk towards her but stops cold. A glimmer of recognition shines in his eyes and he turns to one of the corpses lying on the ground around them. As he studies the body, or what's left of it, something clicks. He growls softly to Fa'uka and she sets her nose to the ground as Khellan studies the same place. After a short while of retracing the bodies and their steps, he stops and closely studies something on the ground. After a long moment, he lays a hand on Fa'uka's back and straightens up.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka staggered onto her feet, feeling rather woozy as she slips her clawblades into a special set of loops on her belt. "Serra..." Even as she moved, her body seemed to meld with the darkness around her. A few more staggering steps were taken before she stumbled to her knees in a corner, ripping away the scarf obstructing her face to vomit. "Anybody know something about that disgusting creature? It has something that belongs to me..."

[Phasm]

Mirri fumbles at her belt pouch for a vial of bloodblock, but stops as Aisolyn rushes over and casts a spell. She coughs several times, spitting out a lungful of blood and phlegm, then smiles weakly at her diminutive comrade. "Thanks, Aisolyn. I owe you one." The catfolk staggers to her feet, sword still in hand. Say what you will about Mirri (and there's a lot that could be said), she has her weapon handling skills down pat. "Hells yeah I'm going with you, Cal'vel. Whoever's behind the Bloodtear might know where Serra went. And what's going on with her. She asked for help... so even if those creatures followed her command, I don't think they were friendly."

Blood covers her body from the chest down, matting brown tabby fur to the skin, but Mirri doesn't appear to care. "If I die, I'll die with that witch's blood on my blade and Serra'Tal free." She bares her fangs in the same disturbing grin she wears when plunging said blade into her enemies.


I'm sorry, yesterday took a lot out of me.

Perception: [roll0]

[Khosan]

"So it wasn't just me then." Mili breathed a sigh of relief. At least I'm not hallucinating.

Mili pushed herself up off the ground and dusted herself off, "Well, hopefully you'll be able to live with that witch's blood on your blade and Serra free. Much better outcome."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:30 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

The wounded noble glanced dismissively at the short Pathfinder that was Aisolyn. "A month and a half of efforts from your Venture-Captain. Perhaps fourteen-dozen groups of conscripted Pathfinders. The full might of The House of Vronds AND nearly a quarter of Caliphas's guard, to stop this vampire scourge... I'm sorry, but if there were any doubts in your mind as to the severity of this operation, then you child are either daft or blissfully naive. We've lost more Pathfinders within the hour then there are assigned within the city." He clawed his way to his feet with a grunt, lifting himself and the additional 80 pounds of armor off the ground. He surveyed the bloodied bodies about them. "...Though in truth, I cannot fault you. The known threat was already significant enough to bring the city to ruin - should The Inquisition bring war upon the underworld. But there is no war, and this resistance is far more fullsome then even my most generous estimates... The very same could have been the result with the vampires alone, but they are not so bold. Many questions have been answered already - but they are replaced with only more questions..." He ran a glowing hand over his armor - the hole in the burnished steel mended as he bent down and recovered a sizable burlap sack from one of the mangled bodies. He glanced inside, a minor glow illuminated his face from the contents. He tossed the bag to Mili "This is Faerie Flour, I assume. I've heard Bridgeman crafts such strange objects. Perhaps you'll find it of use - Search the bodies if you've time - We need to move upon Haraday while the enemy thinks us still recovering and demoralized." The noble quickly examined his axe, running his leather covered thumb over the cracked edge a few times inquisitively - A quarter of the sharpened edge fell off from the shaft. The blade was ruined. He groaned, throwing the now useless weapon to the ground and securing his shield, now unarmed. " The Clawed Witch, was not doubt Effal - A child murdering, soul-devouring beast of a creature, no longer human. That both accounts for the murders, child abductions and the whispers of a coven tied to the city's underworld. But none of that brings us any closer- " BTOOOMOOMM

The rocking explosion shook the air and sent jagged cracks through the cobbled streets. The violent quake of the earth sent the lot of them back to the ground where they had risen. It had only been 5 minutes since they had completed staunching the bleeding wounds and they had experienced yet another explosion. It was as if this night was some demented wizard's wet dream. The visible buzz of dark electric energy which surged through the fissures within the ground and the vibrations within the air which made their hair stand on end was without any possible doubt, from a magical source. Cal'vel pushed up on one arm, glanced behind them at the theater. Some sickly aura seemed to linger, making the air seem humid and unpleasantly wet. ".....Gods be good. That came from the theater. I can feel immense evil. We need to move."

He was right. Something wasn't right... and if Bridgeman was in the theater, she might have gotten caught in the middle of whatever the explosion had been. The short child-faced woman had perhaps been the closest thing to Serra they had ever found, someone truly special - but whereas Serra had always seemingly held a mysterious and dark nature, Denise Bridgeman was perhaps the scion of purity and a gentle nature. She had spoken on each of their behalf to be allowed to join The Lodge. Captain Haldan might have held a certain maternal-kindness towards her own - but her cruelty towards outsiders was something that could not be overstated. A fact which made joining The HavenGuard Lodge near impossible to join for most - a factor that gave a certain amount of prestige to the position. The other Pathfinders of The Lodge were good in their own right, but none had connected with each of them so much as Denise. She had spent much of her time with them helping them chase clues to retrace and uncover their past. Perhaps she had been the figure which had brought them even this far, always willing to listen and give them what little guidance they had found in this world. She had to be okay. Please be okay.

A terrible sense of familiarity hung in the air.


The scattered remains of the slain Pathfinders about them have been left unlooted, and seemingly slain by some wild beasts.

A strange improvised creation of Denise Bridgeman: One part flour, two parts chalk - and lots of magic.

The half-pound bag of floury-chalk was heavily enchanted by permanent Light and Prestidigitation spells causing the powder to glow relatively brightly. The color could be changed at will along with altering its color when disturbed and providing a moderate warmth. Denise often used it for writing, marking walls and setting lines that changed color when crossed. Originally the strange solution was requested by Alandra for use during her scouting, but Denise quickly gained a certain fondness for the powdery stuff, using it perhaps more frequently then actually needed. Being cheap, and simple to mass-produce, she often gave sample to others to try...




Cal'vel Vronds - Heir-Apparent of Mashir


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/%20Calvel%20Vronds%20-%20Copy_zps74fibdjj.jpg

[Phasm]

Mirri scans the room, slit-pupiled eyes narrowing. "Huh, looks like everybody was killed by wild beasts more than, y'know, thinking beings. Hang on a second Cal'vel, I'll see if I can find you a new weapon. Always a shame when your old faithful breaks, but hey! Maybe there's something even better!" She trots off to the first corpse and starts rummaging, paying particular attention to pockets and belt pouches. Armor and weapons are good, healing potions are even better right now.

[flat_footed]

Cal'vel! How long would it take us to get to the other explosion?! The concern is clearly written on Khellan's face. With no way of knowing what or who is over there, Khellan fears for the other group. If their tie to Serra had helped to spare the group, what protection could the others possibly have?

Serra spared the knight. Is there something of her true self still left?

If we cannot get to the others in time, it may prove to be folly rushing to their aid. Good people died with us tonight and we should not let that be in vain.

[ArtichokeDip]

Was the escape of some of us also planned for? Could there be a trap yet to be sprung?

Loudly enough for the others to hear, yet not loudly enough to carry far, Aisolyn says, "We shouldn't remain here too long. We haven't seen what slew these men and it might yet return."

Warily she looks to the shadows and dark streets around them.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:30 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

Mirri shuffled through the bloodied corpses, though a small number of them had worn full plate... Just as their swords, it was ruined. Seemingly struck by a force so bone crushingly violent, it had sundered, or completely cloven both weapon and armor in half, with a seemingly blunt object. Some of the mangled bodies had been collapsed in on themselves, almost as if they had been 'canned' within their own armor, forming a mangled and bloodied package of putrid smelling gore. Blades were bent, shattered and broken, shards of steel laid about. Seemingly any drawn weapon or weighted armor had been obliterated by something vastly stronger then either man nor vampire. It was a sweeping wave of devistation across the plot of land behind the theater and the passing stretch of Coast Road. She could only find a Light Mace, Two Daggers and a Strange Bag on the body of what might have once been a cleric - his cloths, body and features were unrecognizable... in fact, it could have been a woman for all she knew, such was the extent of the damage.


The bag was of amazing quality, and filled with strange and useful remedies for an assortment of ailments.

Twitch Tonic x3
Barbarian Chew x2
Clear Ear x1
Smoke Pellets x1
Antitoxin x2
Antiplague x2
Soothe Syrup x1
Bloodblock x2
Smelling Salts x1
Troll Styptic x1
Potion of Cure Light Wounds
Potion? (Spellcraft/Appraise DC15)
Potion? (Spellcraft/Appraise DC15)



Twitch Tonic: +2 bonus on saves vs Paralysis

Barbarian Chew: Side effects may include ugly red teeth, and an extra round of Rage if a barbarian enters it in the next hour after chewing.

Clear Ear: It provides a +2 alchemical bonus on Perception and Knowledge checks, but a -2 on Charisma. Cranky rogues anyone?

Smoke Pellets: The original ninja-vanish, these items are great for quick distractions that confuse enemies and allow for fast escapes (or assaults).

Antitoxins and Antiplague: +5 bonus to poison and disease saves respectively for an hour once ingested

Soothe Syrup: +5 for sickened and nauseated characters

Bloodblock: ends any bleed effect instantly, and provides a +5 bonus on Heal checks as if the person had used a healer's kit

Smelling Salts: give players who are rendered unconscious or staggered by a spell effect a new save, and they automatically revive a dying character to consciousness

Troll Styptic: automatically ends all bleeding effects and ongoing damage, granting the recipient 2d4 rounds of fast healing 2. It does require a Fortitude save of 15 to not be sickened while the dressing does its work, but being a troll is far from pleasant.


Cal'vel shook his head, raising a hand. "I'll make for poor aid with a dagger and sling against the vampires. But fear not, I had already planned for the worst. I've a horse prepared down the road, it's no more then perhaps a two-minute ride from here to Tower Janoglu, where my father has prepared fine soldiers from the Mahir Battalion. Give me 5 minutes - I shall return in four, with men and arms! " He dug out a Thunderstone from his baldric's belt pouch, handing it to Khellan, looking up at the Haraday Theater 50 ft away. "The theater is behind you... Whatever had caused that disturbance lurks within there. If you can - retrieve your Chronicler and get out, but only if you can confirm she is alive. If not, then do not enter the theater until I return, there's evil within that place. One I could not feel before... 5 minutes. Hold out til then. I'll meet you at Steel Steward Orphanage. No matter what happens - get there. " He turned away and sprinted off down the road, his heavy steps clanging on the stone as he vanished into the night. A short pause later and the sound of hasty galloping could be distantly heard diminishing in the dark.

They were left in the street as the knight rode-off, the flicker of the oil street-lamps seemed to cast eerie shadows...

Something lingers at the edge of your vision...

[Phasm]

"Barbarian chew! Yes!" Mirri grabs the red packets, puts them in her belt pouch, and slings the satchel over her shoulder. The weapons she leaves, they're not valuable enough to be worth weighing herself down. "Thanks, mystery healer person. May Pharasma send you to your god of choice." She makes her way over to Aisolyn at a fast clip, expertly dodging bodies, and presents the satchel. "Check it out, Aisolyn! There's all kinds of good alchemical healery stuff in there, and a couple potions without labels. Nice bag too. I took some barbarian chew 'cause I don't think anybody else here can use it." Aisolyn can identify and distribute the rest of the goodies, Mirri isn't exactly an expert on alchemical drugs.

Cal'vel gallops off without allowing anyone else to get a word in edgewise, leaving Mirri scratching at a patch of drying blood on her ear. "...I'd have loaned him my hammer if he just stuck around for a few more seconds. But hey, backup is good, backup is great even!" She looks at Renka and Mili, the two stealth specialists. Mirri is fairly decent at sneaking around if she takes off her armor, but that could be hazardous around here. "So what's the plan? You two want to try sneaking in to see if Denise is alive, and if so do you want me along? Or should we go to the orphanage, wait for Cal'vel, and bust the door in with him and his people?"

[flat_footed]

Fa'uka's fur rises suddenly and she takes an agressive stance between Khellan and something off to the side. A warning growl ripples across her body and over her bared fangs.

"Ware! To the side over there!"

Khellan points in the direction of Fa'uka's growls. He's been with her far too long to doubt when her keen senses discover something, or someone, hidden to his.

[Khosan]

Mili snatches the bag of faerie flour out of the air, "Careful where you throw this stuff. Doesn't wash out easy, makes your hair glow funny coloO-" a luminescent trail of dust followed her to the ground as she was felled by the explosion. Swearing, Mili pushed herself back up. "This day just keeps getting better," she grunted, "doesn't it?" Once again, the little ratfolk dusted herself off, this time surrounding herself in a faint, glittery cloud of dust which she unsuccessfully attempted to fan away. The rest of the faerie flour was angrily but carefully shoved into her backpack.

Mirri's comment about the beasts prompted a grimace and a closer investigation of one of the bodies from Mili. The last thing we need is another enemy on top of witches and vampires, she thought as she bent over one of the bodies, especially ones capable of something like this. Some of them were barely recognizable as bodies, and the one Mili'd chosen to inspect was only slightly better. Parts of it were still distinctly human but only just and those parts told the same story that Mirri'd mentioned. This had been something wild. Far more wild than anything she could imagine.

Mili's mood did not improve as Cal'vel rode off. She trusted the man, he'd practically saved their lives just a few minutes ago, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they'd just been abandoned. Mirri's prodding roused her from her thoughts, "Plan? Well, we have two options. Stay out here, in the open, with whatever did this," she dramatically gestures to one of the more mangled bodies, "Or we go inside, save our friend and- Mili was once again interrupted, this time by Fa'uka and Khellan's mutual warnings. Her hand shot to her rapier.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:30 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

The sudden call of alarm from Khellan brought the attention of those around him. Their gazes were drawn to the side - looking off far into the darkness. Wisps of misty shadow vanished from view. Something had been there, watching them from the darkness. What little detectable movement that there had been to see was now gone. Still, there could be little doubt. They were not alone...

Fa'uka has successfully passed Perception Vs Strange Shadow

Fa'uka gains the following:
+5 Circumstance Bonus on Perception Vs Strange Shadow:1 Hour
+5 Circumstance Bonus on Sense Motive Vs Strange Shadow:1 Hour
+5 Circumstance Bonus on Will Saves Vs Strange Shadow:1 Hour

The SteelSteward Orphanage was only a short distance away, perhaps only a minute of fast walking. The building overlooked Haraday Theater from across Coast Road, looming eerily in the distance. With the exception of a single candle-light left by a third-floor window, the orphanage seemed to be completely devoid of all life. Considering the hour, this was perhaps not unusual, yet the strange aura that seemed to hang in the air made the four story-tall building appear foreboding in a most unwelcoming sense. A cloaked man rounded the corner of the theater onto the avenue of Coast Road, which cleanly divided the district of North Cushing - in an immediate response, seeing the bodies some 40ft away, he staggered backwards. His cowl fell from his head, revealing the adult Tian male - no doubt some lowly smuggler wandering the streets after a too-late-night in the tavern. He sharply turned and sprinted away back in the direction he had come without a word.

To the eyes of the public, Dr. Low - a successful Tian merchant was something of an entrepreneur, rather then a merchant himself. His business, as everyone knew, operated out of the district of Ashtown. A incongruous building with pagoda-inspired architecture, known as The Seventh Eye. It housed not only a restaurant, but also a market selling exotic foreign foods and goods and a school offering lessons in Tian philosophy, language, culture, and history. His success was almost as hotly debated as his source of wealth. But to those familiar with Caliphas's true face, the face that moved beneath the city. Everyone knew Dr. Low was the Kingpin of Caliphas's largest criminal empire, with fingers stretching out beyond the city and beneath it. A man of business not to be trifled with. Those who made enemies of Dr. Low and his associates more often then not found themselves as nothing more than burnt remains dumped within The Ashheap...

[ArtichokeDip]

Aisolyn takes the bag offered by Mirri and quickly looks through the contents before giving the Smoke Pellets to Renka and the Clear Ear to Mili.

"We should hurry as Cal'vel said. Someone was watching, and the longer we stay here the more vulnerable we'll be."

Just in case... Aisolyn activates Detect Magic, to see if there are any more surprises lurking around.

[flat_footed]

"Agreed. The bodies around us are past any undead tampering, though I fear for the ones inside. I cannot imagine a crueler fate than to have my body turn against those I sought to protect."

Khellan rests his hand on Fa'uka's head as he speaks, helping to calm her as the shadowed presence retreats.

"Let us not tarry any longer in the open."

Khellan looks to the group and approaches the entrance, smoothly removing his longbow from its place on his back.

[Phasm]

A swish of steel on leather sounds as Mirri draws her sword. "You want point or rear, Khellan? I'm good with either. Renka, you want to scout or flank?" Mili and Aisolyn stay in the center of the group, that's a given. First rule of adventuring; protect the magic people, especially the healer. "Anybody need light? I got a sweet deal on an everburning torch not long before we left to kick vampire ass, but there's the whole 'people can see us coming' thing to think about." Not for the first time, Mirri thanks Cayden Cailean that she was born catfolk. She sniffs the air, trying to detect anything that might be off.


Perception check for the hell of it: [roll0]

[flat_footed]

Khellan locks a knowing gaze with Mirri.

"Our eyes are well equipped for hunting in the dark. Aisolyn may be the only one among us who needs that light. It is for her to decide if we travel within the light or not."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:30 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

Circling around to the front of the building where the startled man had ran off in surprise was uneventful. Approaching the entrance to the Haraday Theater, made a number of fears become reality. The large ornate wooden doors of the theater lay bashed in on the ground inside. The heavy cast-iron hinges still hung stoutly on the reinforced frames set into the building's sides. The solid steel construction was bent and twisted, the doors themselves were simply crushed and thrown into the reception hall as shattered sheets of darkwood. They lingered outside, looking into the dark building. A trail of blood streamed out, intermingling with the splinters to flow out unto the stone steps up to the door where the Pathfinders prepared. Within the theater, it was a pitch black- seemingly dropped a degree to some umbral level of ambient dark. The keen eyes of the non-humans, could penetrate the strange obstruction of vision with some difficulty. The darkness of a lightless night intertwined with some strange cloud of black smoke near indistinguishable to those without perfect vision in the waning hours of twilight.

The marks on the remains of the door seemed to hold a cruel glow, some magical creature had leveled the solid 20ft tall portal to nothing but shattered pieces of darkwood and forged-steel. The magic held no determinable origin, no type, nor school which was familiar.... This was something else. Something ancient and terrible. Perhaps dating back to the times of the Runelords themselves. This would no doubt require much deeper investigation.

The dark mist seemed to radiate a dark aura, though perhaps by nothing short of an obscure reference of the ancient powers wielded during the age of Thassilon - this seemed familiar;

She recalled an entry from a tome titled "On The Might That Once Was: A History of Inner Sea Magic Vol 1.". The book itself was considerably rare, only a small number of volumes remained - owned by wealthy nobles in private libraries. Alandra Corvettis had gone out of her way to allow her access to a number of The Corvettis's personal ledgers to research lest-common forms of wizardry. Perhaps she would need to re-visit The Corvettis Estates to uncover the truth... Umbral Magic - the art of controlling shadowstuff itself was thought to be a practice long dead, with spells spoken in the Kellid tongue for secrecy. For Hallit possessed no written form...

As her senses stretched out, it encountered something... perhaps nothing short of a living metaphysical cloud of Æther. The nameless magic seemed to reel up like a great wyrm, casting horrible shadows within her mind's eye. An evil unlike any she had ever believed could walk the material realm. With a soundless yet dreadful cry, the intangible scaled beast unleashed a devastating roar through her consciousness. Her focus crumbled and the energies of her spell shattered within, overwhelmed by the magical force lurking deep within the dark reaches of the Haraday Theater...

DC24 Will Save

Mirri's nose was first to catch the smell of blood and death in the air. Beneath it was the stench of some pack of furred creatures, now gone... Then hear ears caught sound, though distant and difficult to make out. Crying, but not any - or tears from some heinous specter, but rather from a familiar voice. It could only be Denise...

[Khosan]

"Ah, thank you, Aisolyn." Mili takes the small vial and gives it a quick once over before she pours it into each of her ears. The feeling of the substance oozing into her head elicits a shudder and some sympathetic ear-rubbing from her. Clear ear isn't a pleasant substance to use for anyone, but with ears as large as hers, it always felt worse.

"An orphanage?" The flickering candlelight weakly reflects off Mili's mask as she stares up at the third floor of the building, "I'd have preferred some place without children, but I suppose it'll have to do since Cal's already run off." Whether that's genuine annoyance or just the clear ear talking is up for debate, though with the way she keeps picking at her ears the latter possibility seems quite likely likely.

The theater was certainly a sight to behold. What attracted Mili's attention the most was the door. It told a similar story to the bodies they'd found. Something with incredible strength had bashed it in and, moreover, whatever it was had done it before the explosion, otherwise the door would've collapsed out into the street and not into the theater. Probably. Mili had been good at detective work, but something of this scale was outside her realm of expertise. Knowing to look for which way the glass broke was a good starting point for break-ins, but that same line of thinking might not apply to something capable of caving in a man's breastplate with the man still inside it. "We should be very careful," she whispered as she began to creep inside, "that beast that killed all those men might be in here somewhere."

"I'd keep the light out for a bit. I don't think it's a good time." Mili looked back toward the others from inside the theater, on top of what used to be the door. "And if you don't mind, Mirri, I'll take point."

Perception - [roll0]
Stealth - [roll1]

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:31 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg


Khellan and his canine companion paused before the entrance. The long dark hall, stretched out some 40ft into the distance - a lightless walk. The floor was covered in streaming pools of blood running out of the broken doorway, yet there was no bodies to be seen. The bloody path seemed to paint the floor all the way to the rear of the bloodied chamber to a set of large and sturdy wooden doors, firmly closed. This was all his animal companion could see, yet Khellan could sense, and feel something more. Something familiar. It was difficult to grasp, an ancient sensation he had only known perhaps once before... To his eyes, the disquieting length of the hall seemed to distort and bend, as if it was flooded with water. Strange undefined shapes moved and slipped in and out of existence - as if some masquerade of shadowy representations mimiced things that had once traversed this very corridor. Finally - he remembered.

In the most sacred of places, where the natural worlds magic was most pure. The Material Plane and The First World touched. Things were stranger here, and at times even time itself could be put into disarray. But none of that should have been possible within some bloodied theater within a capital city. Somewhere he knew he heard of such things... but where? He thought long and heard, if only he could remember...


Khellan receives a +2 Circumstance Bonus to this Knowledge Check. Knowledge Nature is treated as a class skill for this check



The thoughts seemed to slip away from Aisolyn's mind as the terrible force of the evil she had seen came crashing down upon her. Visions of blood, death, suffering and fury all stormed within her mind as if furiously hammered into her consciousness by some brutish ogre's club. It was too much to take. A strange woman's voice chuckled deviously, seeming to echo off the walls. It was in no Language she had heard before - some ancient tongue whispering some profane curses. Her body jerked awkwardly as black streams of blackened electric energy hissed and danced about her body, shedding a strange black-light similar to the arcane darkness within. A word, the first clear word spoke out as if commanding a toy: "Come..." A Strange seal formed on her forehead, a sigil glowing with the same blackened-light. She couldn't control her body, with sharp-jerking steps, she strode half way into the hall before fighting back the compulsion that the woman's words brought... She knew it was in her mind... Something had gotten in, inside her. Something wicked and dark...


Aisolyn gains the following Penalties:

-5 Circumstance Bonus on Perception Vs Strange Shadow
-5 Circumstance Bonus on Sense Motive Vs Strange Shadow
-5 Circumstance Bonus on Will Saves Vs Strange Shadow
DC13 Will Save VS Command

Duration: Until Curse Expires or Ended

[ArtichokeDip]

A strangled whine emerges from Aisolyn's lips as her body jerks forwards, step by step past Khellan. "Help... I can't... stop..."

Once across the threshold, Aisolyn stands there in a pool of blood, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Turning to face the others, she chokes them back. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself."

"There's something here... Deep and dark. We're just toys to it and... and it took my mind away from me like it was nothing."

Looking down the dark hall, the fear is plain in her voice. "I took a look. I couldn't resist. I saw something. It... and it wants us inside. If it asks again, I don't think I can resist."

She looks again at her last remaining friends, the tears welling up in her eyes again. "Save yourselves, while there's still time... I think only death is down this hallway."

[Phasm]

"Guys! Guys, I heard Denise cry- Aisolyn!" Mirri rushes forward from her rearguard position, but by the time she gets there the young-looking mage has managed to stop herself. "Oh no. That's, that's very not good." If there's one thing Mirri hates and fears, it's mind-controlling magic. She knows very well what kind of carnage she can inflict. The thought of her blade being turned against her friends is the stuff of nightmares. "Well, if it happens again, I'll pick you up and we can all haul tail out of here. Matter of fact, why don't we do that anyway now that we know Denise is here and alive? We can go wait for Cal'vel at the orphanage, come back and beat whoever's killed our friends like a cheap drum!"

[flat_footed]

Khellan's blood runs cold as he sees Aisolyn, mere steps from him, be jerked around as though a puppet on strings. The battle for her mind decided before he could lift a finger. Fa'uka begins to whine slightly, sensing something terribly wrong, but not seeing the cause.

"Nnh.. no. NO! Aisolyn, break free! You can't have her!!"

With each shuddering step she takes further in, Khellan's face contorts. As her tears fall, a force drives through him and flows into Aisolyn.

"By the grace of Ketephys, be freed!"

Khellan uses Elysium's Call. Aisolyn gets an immediate reroll against the compulsion with a +2 sacred bonus.
As the power leaves Khellan, he anxiously studies the faint mark of servitude on her face. Desperate to see it gone, his mind strains to understand where they are and what they're dealing with. Grasping at straws, he strains against the constant fog of his life's experiences to make a connection.

Khellan takes 10 for his Knowledge: Nature check. Total result is 16.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:31 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

Khellan's energy struck the enchanted Aisolyn, the pull of whatever now controlled her seemed to be lessened, but it did not carry the full effect he had hoped. The dark energy that filled her was far more potent then he had expected. A pulse of dark light seemed to radiate out rebuking the energy; this was a Curse, and not of a lesser design. The Sigil branded on the human's face, while difficult to make out - even with his keen elven eyes - was in some ancient Aklo tongue. Only the four things could remove it: A willful removal by its master. The death of the one who created it. Or the powerful magics in the form of Remove Curse, Wish and Lesser Wish... He thought, the final piece seeming to call in place. Aklo... His eyes widened in recognition. Oh no. Now he could remember...

In the sacred places where the two worlds met. The world of the Fey. The First World, touched upon the material plane. Sometimes, when the connection was strong enough - greater Fey would come with their kin and erect a Faerie Circle - where the material plane would more accurately reflect their own eldritch world - Most times, this was a blessing, though never a place for the mortals to dwell.

However, even the goodly Fey were famously mischievous. But the Dark Fey, who dwelled in the nether-regions of The First World, were rarely seen and never heard from. Rarely visiting the material plane. Creatures both unpredictable, volatile and tainted by the chaotic urges of their own nature. They perhaps made the most fearful of enemies, and mysterious of creatures that could be found wandering the unknowable expanses of The Otherworld. Nothing connected them between, no similar traits, archetypes nor desires. With an unheard of society, if it did indeed exist... Now they had seemingly stumbled upon the doorsteps of such an entity - within a Dark Fey's Faerie Circle... There was no escape for little Aisolyn.

Faerie Rings were places to be feared and respected. Domains of the great nature-spirits which created them. The places touched upon by such creatures were saturated with the primordial power's of nature and the fey, distorting magic, reality and time itself - in an often erratic collision of elemental chaos. Remaining within such places for too long would only bring death - as time passed in blinding flashes, hours becoming years, days - decades. With a whimsical grasp which cast those within it astray. There was only one path of escape - an audience with the Fey Spirit who had created the ring.

Erratic Time
It is dangerous for mortals to dwell within the faerie ring
for long periods of time. For every full hour that passes
within its bounds, living creatures without the animal,
fey, or plant type are aged one year (Fortitude negates).
This aging includes all physical signs that time has passed,
such as hair and nail growth. If the creature reaches its
maximum age, it dies. Treat this as death from old age
for the purposes of raise dead or similar effects. The aging
caused by faerie ring has no effect on any spell durations or
conditions affecting the target.

Erratic Magic
Spells and Spell-Like Abilities cast within, or into the effected area create horrific and wondrous effects:

Table 2-3: Faerie Ring Effects
d% Effect

0-20 Spell fails and causes the caster 1d6 slashing
damage per spell level (Fortitude negates) as
the magical backlash warps the flow of time
within their body.

21-40 Spell effects appear in slow motion, and are
delayed until the start of the casters next turn.

41-60 Spell requires at least a full-round action to cast.

61-80 Spell is cast as normal.

81-100 Spell is automatically quickened (as the feat).
If a spell has a casting time of more than one
full round or this result comes up twice in one
round, the spell is instead cast as normal.

(OOC: Source - Deep Magic: Ley and Fey Magic)

The voice spoke again in Aisolyn's mind over the chorus of hundreds of small voices chanting some haunting tongue, spilling forth vile curses into her mind. "Now, now... Fear not little one. I've no quarrel with your simple looking friends. Indeed. I am glad you've come... So fortunate is it, that one such as you has come upon the hour I wake. The mortals of this world are frail and boring. I desire a more suitable partner - perhaps an Immortal like yourself. Let us speak more inside..." The voice seemed to contrast the haunting choir of condemning voices, singing terrible curses.

[ArtichokeDip]

Aisolyn shuddered at the mental caress of the voice inside her head.

"It's telling us to come inside. That it won't hurt us... you. It wants to talk."

Swallowing heavily, she continues, "The look I got at it before... before it took my mind. It was powerful. Ancient. Evil. I don't know what it wants, but it can't be good. If Denise is in there, then she's either already gone or it took her like it did me."

[flat_footed]

Khellan backs away from Aisonlyn, taking a deep breath and tries to form words for what he remembers. "I've done what I can, though I fear it was not enough. Regardless, the longer we stay here the more danger we are in and we cannot even trust our own magics. The delight even good faeries find in mischief can be wantonly cruel, let alone the dark ones."

Khellan describes the intricacies of Faerie Circles to the party, as he remembers them.

"Aisolyn, do you feel like you are back in control of your body; at least for the moment? The more answers we seek, the more questions we find. Whatever made that mark, could have done far worse if it had wanted t-."

Khellan's eyes jump to Mirri as her words finally hit him. He had almost missed their meaning when Aisolyn was cursed. It surprised him how much Mirri was able to detect. "What did you hear?"

[Khosan]

Mili watched the events unfold in front of her with at first curiosity, then a steadily growing sense of unease. A wild beast with strength she hadn't seen before was one thing. An ancient evil of untold magical might that may or may not be warping the very fabric of reality around it was something else entirely.

"Just playing devil's advocate here but if this...whatever it is, is inviting us in and is as powerful as it seems, I can't imagine us refusing its offer going all that well for us." Mili looks around at the others and shrugs, "It's the difference between running from here and running from the end of that hallway if we piss it off." After thinking for a moment she adds, "And I'd quite like to see Denise safe."

[Phasm]

"I heard Denise crying, and I haven't heard any screams, so hopefully that means she's still alive." The catfolk frowns. "Yeah... you've got a point, Mili. We should leave a message if Cal'vel comes looking for us, though. Think you could use some of Denise's glowy flour stuff to write 'BEWARE, HERE THERE BE DARK FEY' on the walls? Back far enough that they won't stumble into the faerie ring?" She rummages in her backpack and comes up with her everburning torch, a stout length of wood topped by a cheerful yellow flame that gives off no heat. "There, now we won't be stumbling around in the dark." This place is oppressively dark even for Mirri's feline eyes.

[flat_footed]

Khellan nods to himself as Mili and Mirri vote to brave the theater to save Denise."I'd have to agree with you both. The few minutes lost waiting for Cal'vel could be the difference between a rescue and another lost soul. We will go in as well before reinforcements arrive."

Khellan bends down to Fa'uka and runs a hand over her back, helping to calm her for the upcoming rescue.

"I will not hold it against any who do not wish to enter."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Outside Haraday Theater

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

Outside Haraday
Though it was only partially noticeable, having been left standing at the entrance of the theater for so long the slow creep of the darkness was visible. The distorting zone of primordial energy was ever-so-slowly moving forward, beyond the threashold of Hataday's destroyed entrance. The Faerie Circle was expanding...

Inside
Aisolyn could feel time shift and bend about her. It was as if she walked in some hazy dream-like world, time slipped away with each passing minute. The world about her seemed to contort and darken, until the way she had came vanished from view completely - her friends could no longer be seen. There was only a void of seemingly infinite darkness behind her. The way back was lost. Left alone in the dark, the claustrophobic narrow expanse seemed to close in upon her - the strange cursed choir still sung within her mind. The madness of it all seemed like too much, perhaps her consciousness would simply break under the insanity of her isolation - she couldn't even tell how long it had been anymore. If time meant anything at all within this place. Perhaps she had been within this darkness for weeks... That damned chanting choir, she felt nauseated, as if reaching the brink. No one could withstand this eternity of solitude - Then she saw a light...

Outside Haraday
To the others, Aisolyn seemed to fade, becoming transparent like some specter. Merging with the world beyond the door before them - her voice no longer reached outside of the twisted pocket of time and space. Strange flickers of living light danced out in the hall, at first, the purple lights seemed without form - until they took shape. Violet butterflies of light fluttered about the hall. Lesser nature spirits, drawn to the energies within the fey circle. Though, distant, and faded much like Aisolyn herself - it could be made out - something. Someone. Standing behind the human girl. Baring massive ram-like horns and standing only a head-taller then the short woman. Aisolyn seemed not to notice at all - as if completely oblivious to the entity lingering only a breath away, looming over her shoulder.

Inside
The darkness broke in the presence of a brilliant field of warm radiance. Whimsical little nature spirits in the form of violet-colored butterflies danced around overhead shedding their light within the dismal hall. The way back was little more then a void of undefined dark. The hall held a strange blue-haze, regardless of the light, as if something had tainted reality about her. Portraits holding shattered glass hung suspended within the air in perpetual and never ending free-fall. Blood from the floor dripped up towards the ceiling, as if gravity had been reversed. Shadows of things no longer present danced and moved reflecting the motions of their owners who once had passed through this very way. Some danced, some fought, some died... She could see the shapes of bloodless shadows dragged off along the floor to the distance and through the large wooden doors at the hall's end. Strange canine-like beasts, the size of her ran through the halls in a bloodied fury. She was surrounded by movement and silence - alone in the midst of a masquerade of shadows. The voice spoke out again from within her mind: "Unfortunately, our time diminishes quickly. If you wish for your little friends to remain among the living - you'd best move quickly. I've honored my former master's last request to aid you, though I had not anticipated the lot of you would have survived this long. Unfortunately, in 3 minutes the seal I had placed will be broken - and then you will all likely die. A minor inconvenience, I'm sure - but perhaps if you wish to do something about this you will stop wasting time and move."

[ArtichokeDip]

Knowing her friend's lives may hang in the balance, Aisolyn makes up her mind. Tears still in her eyes, she answers the voice, I'm sorry... Do what you must. Please save them.

Surrounded by maddening echoes of the past and with her mind filled by voices she can't understand, she moves as the voice wills her.

[flat_footed]

As Aisolyn's figure fades from them, Khellan has a sickening flashback to the destruction five years ago."The choice is made for us; I'll not waste another moment out here!"

He strides forward cautiously, stopping just shy of the stairs and the door to the left. Fa'uka pads quietly a step behind him, understanding the seriousness of the moment.

[Phasm]

"Aisolyn! Wait for us!" The urge to protect overrides Mirri's already weak sense of self-preservation. Sword in one hand and torch in the other, the warrior bounds forward in pursuit of her friend.

[Khosan]

"No argument here." Mili darts into the theater, just behind Mirri.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Entrance

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

K: Planes - Aisolyn recalled teachings long ago, speaking of places such as this. Spaces where time, magic and reality seemed to bend and distort. It was the presence, the proof of The First World's connection with the material realm. While Faerie Circles such as this, were uncommon, it was even less common to find such a place as this - adjoined to two planes of existence. This mastery of nature and the primordial forces of their world could not be commanded so readily. This power was reserved only for Fey Lords - not 'lords' or society, nor rule among peers. There existed no such structure within The First World or to the Fey. These beings of great power were known as The Eldest (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Eldest). Perhaps some of the most significant entities to dwell within such worlds. She did not doubt this nameless entity was of their class - for very few of The Eldest were known to the mortals of Golarion. Such was the mystery of Feykind.

K: Arcana - Though she was not familiar with many of the tales of old, the energies she had experienced and the powerful compulsion within her affirmed by the strange chanting within her consciousness provided her some measure of confirmation. The curses and magic spoken were of a nature she had never seen yet the voices at-least in part spoke in Aklo and some ancient dialect of Hallit, the tongue of the Kellids who once dwelt in Avistan in the days of yore. She had heard of such magics - spells commanded by ancient forces that had long departed the material plane. Deep Magic or so it was called... There were few tomes which recorded these spells, and few men who still remember such a force had existed at all. Its purpose had been lost, as had knowledge of its workings. If the few writings left upon the old stone tablets proved true - it was such an energy to predate even the Primal Magic of The Runelords and perhaps the gods themselves. What few accounts Aisolyn had seen all suggested the emergence of Deep Magic during The Age of Creation (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Age_of_Creation), but such was simple speculation.

Nachthall Entrance
Aisolyn, compelled by the mysterious voice within trudged through the bloodied hall. The choir of voices seeming to intensify in its volume as she approached the large wooden doors. The lavender glow of the whimsical spirits lit her way, illuminating the entrance before her. The lacquer on the hardwood doors was peeling, the surface scarred with abrasions left by frantic hands. A bloody finger-nail still sat wedged in place upon the cracks of the wood. The damage to the barrier was unquestionable, yet seemed to have been inflicted perhaps decades ago - the decay of the rotting wood and stain of the dried blood dated the passage to some age before perhaps any of their birth. Perhaps time here had been distorted so... It was impossible to know for sure. Aisolyn's hand, seemed to move by some foreign-mental command, pressing on the door - then stopping suddenly. The voice spoke out again in her mind, with a somewhat amused tone, the sound of muffled crying filled her ears; "Though, I have aided you. Do not misunderstand. I only fulfill the obligation left to me, exactly as it had been given. At no point was it left to me to defend you from your enemies in this world - that much is your own affair..."[/I] The small human's hands slammed out in-front of herself, throwing open the door with a loud crash. She could only see briefly into the room - the blood ended abruptly, as if the trail simply ceased. The illuminating spirits diminished, vanishing, leaving her alone in the darkness. A worried cry, choked back by tears spoke out; "...W-Who's there!? " There was no mistaking it, from the darkness Denise cried out.

Something seemed out of place, a warning scratching at the back of Aisolyn's mind.
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture2_zpsv5ohulzx.png

The Haraday Foyer
Khellan, Mili and Mirri rushed forward without a second thought, seeing the brave elf charge inside the theater. The light of the spirits had died away just before their entrance leaving them in a pitch darkness - the blessings of their racial sight illuminated their way, in part. Streams of umbral shadow danced and twisted through the air, a strange essence which obscured their vision in the few places it passed. In the distance Aisolyn could be seen, standing before the open door, the familiar horned specter standing behind her. Devilishly, the figure turned about - a faceless and amorphous shadow, looking back at them - the figure pushed Aisolyn inside the room then vanished from view.




(MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16
Khellan Number 2
Mirri Number 17
Mili Number 5

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture3_zpsr2wkqgpw.png




http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Untitled_zpsm5xbyx8u.png

[flat_footed]

Relieved that Aisolyn had returned to a solid state, Khellan takes an immediate step towards her. In the same moment, he notices that the path behind them has been sealed off.. As much as I want to rush to help, I cannot risk leaving us caught without an escape. But what can we now do but follow the bread crumbs?

Fa'uka places a paw on Khellan's leg, as if guessing his mind. With an affirmative growl, Khellan sends her across the hall to Aisolyn's side. Loping stealthily, Fa'uka almost seems more shadow than animal.

Khellan is directing Fa'uka to defend Aisolyn, as per the trick.
Trusting Fa'uka to make it, Khellan turns to Mili and Mirri. "I see no other options than to forge ahead."

[Phasm]

"Yup, seems like it. Let's go!" Mirri holds her everburning torch high and takes the lead, bounding along as she tries to catch up with Aisolyn. She doesn't charge, though; running into a closed door would be so embarrassing. Doing that once in front of her comrades was more than enough.

[ArtichokeDip]

"Denise?" Aisolyn called out softly.

Oppressive darkness surrounding her on all sides and her friend's voice somewhere out there.

But how could Denise have lived through all this blood and carnage? Did she cause this? Did something protect her? Or use her like it did me?

With little left in the way of options and without the natural night vision of the others, Aisolyn pulls a small firefly out of her spell pouch, crushes it, and kindles Light in her ring. Warily, she points it out into the darkness in the direction of Denise's voice.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Entrance

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/58d26c4b137edb6c76fccab5a2d909a123c681c4_zpsr20mcd yi.jpg

Aisolyn dug in her spell pouch, producing the small insect, the chanting choir within her mind seemed to escalate in tone - then she completed the spell. The chanting ceased all at once, leaving her in silence as the warm light washed over the bloodied room about her, not quite reaching the far walls, but giving her enough vision to take in her surroundings. A wind begun to blow. The shadowy smoke that drifted about came into view to her human eyes just long enough to watch it hiss and fade as if burned by the illumination. Denise could be seen huddled in the far corner across the room from her, covering her eyes. She was screaming, the words reaching her ears too late; " NO, NOT THE LIGHT! THEY'LL COME BACK! "

[The Wind & Song] (https://youtu.be/k7MgB9xJyBQ?t=3s)

No sooner did she hear the words, did the plain madness of her new reality strike her, in a somewhat literal sense. From the black maw of darkness that loomed above - like the throat of some eldritch monstrosity, replacing what would have been a ceiling, with a howling void. Blood rained down upon the room in splashing-liters of gore and refuse. A corpse crashed down upon her with a sickening splatter. The weight of the body crushed her to the hard granite floor - she felt the sharp pain as her head met the ground with a crack, making her wince in pain, her vision dancing. The howling wind of the void above did not cease. Corpses rained down from the black sky as a strange music, unlike the choir before filled her mind. The bodies landed in the room with a wet splattering entrance. She pushed the corpse off her that had pinned her to the ground, she had never seen the man before, but by the Wayfinder dangling from his belt, it was evident he had been a Pathfinder.

Aisolyn takes 3 Points of Damage and is knocked Prone

The corpses begun to writhe upon the ground, jerking about as if life had been violently forced back into the mangled bodies. The corpse that had landed on her sprung to life, snapping at her with its broken and jagged teeth. Without a second thought she kicked the zombie in its face and skidded back on her elbows - scrambling to put distance between the undead and herself. Another corpse came splattering down besides her from above, showering her in more blood, staining her cloths further. Blood had begun running down the side of her face from the wound she had suffered to her head - what was this madness. Was this where she was going to die? - She looked at the corner where Denise was, strangely, the young cleric did not have her familiar staff, but she produced a large bottle of holy water. The corpses did not seem to notice her, the faint glow of magic around her hinted at an explanation.

A simple, yet useful spell - Hide From Undead. Denise was a Cleric of The Dawnflower after all, but she had always been frightened of the undead and would sooner hide then fight if she could.

The commanding voice in her mind spoke out again in an amused tone; " My, My. It seems you've quite the predicament... Perhaps if you beg, I may aid you? Or, perhaps - "[/I] Fa'uka's howling from down the hall interrupted the thought. She sneered bitterly, " Meddling worms... "

Khellan could see the flash of magical light illuminate the chamber in the distance, the cry was audible to all of them - made all the more real by the wolf's howl at the enemy that lingered further ahead. The crashing bodies from somewhere above within the room came into view - a corpse-rain. The sudden light stung his sensitive eyes, but did not blind him nor the wild Catfolk behind him. As they moved forward Mirri glanced at her side, looking at the strange windows - images within seemed to move, showing not the city outside, but some other world - filled with darkness, like the furthest reaches of space - filled with the stray bodies of the dead and dark formless creatures which feast upon them. One of which turned sharply to the cat, glaring back with eyes of cruel yellow light from behind the thin glass. Where was this place joined to?

Denise shouted back over to Aisolyn, " D-Don't worry about me! Lure them back into the hall, or you'll be surrounded! -You need to slash them with sharp weapons, or they'll keep getting up, go! "


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

ROLL INITIATIVE!


Combat-Action Tracker


PC-----
[Waiting]
[Pending]
[Done]
[Action] [Summery]
Round 1


Aisolyn
++++++


(Action Pending)


Khellan
++++++


(Action Pending)


Fa'uka
++++++


(Action Pending)


Mirri
++++++


(Action Pending)


Mili
++++++


(Action Pending)


Renka
++++++


(Action Pending)


[NPC] Denise
++++++


(Action Pending)





(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16
Khellan Number 2
Mirri Number 17
Mili Number 5
Fa'uka Triangle 3

NPCs
Denise Brown Diamond 1

Enemies: Red Diamonds

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture4_zpsvsmqmnvb.png

[flat_footed]

Dashing the last distance to where she can see Aisolyn, Fa'uka sees the strange creatures reaching for her and smelled the fresh blood. With a wild growl, she glides over Aisolyn and attacks the one that has her blood on it, trying to tear into it and allow Aisolyn to get free.
Fa'uka will move to K18 and attack the enemy who caused damage to Aisolyn by falling on her. I assume they are all prone still, so I do not know what tripping a prone enemy could even do.
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

Blinking away the spots cause by the unexpected light, Khellan loses the critical first seconds of the fight as everything seems to happen at once. The light from Aisolyn and the resulting thuds of bodies, the shouts from Denise and Fa'uka's answering growls. Forcing his gaze on the darkened room in front of him, Khellan advances as close as he can to Aisolyn. Calling out to Ketephys, Khellan brandishes a wooden holy symbol."Behold the sign of Ketephys and be controlled no longer!"
Khellan will make his way to M18 if possible (assuming other actions before his own) and let loose a Channel, targeted at the undead. DC11 Will for half damage.
[roll3]

[Phasm]

Slashing, huh? Pity, that rules out Mirri's handy-dandy cold iron short sword. Hopefully the magic in her longsword will do to kill these things. "If anyone wants me to follow a plan or something, say it now before I really get going! I'll warn you when I let go!" Once Mirri surrenders to the joy of battle, words become so much background noise. But she can fight without that! It's hard, but perfectly doable.

Grinning madly, the catfolk sprints forward, nimbly dodging around Khellan and Fa'uka. "YAHAHAHAHA! DIE, ZOMBIES!"


Alas, I cannot truly charge because there are people in the way. Move to L18 and attack Zombie 3.

Attack: [roll0] Includes +2 for favored enemy

Damage: [roll1] As above

[Khosan]

While her position in the rear left her with a lack of fairly important tactical information, Mili could still tell that this hallway was a deathtrap. There wasn't enough room in the hall to fight and the further they pushed into the theater, the more zombies they'd be fighting at once. She could, if she were feeling particularly brave, rush into the center of the theater, but running forth into a room full of an unknown number of assailants with the potential for more enemies to come in through the windows...not a good idea. The best move, as she saw it, was to use the hall to their advantage. The entrance way wasn't large, but it was large enough.

"Pull back!" Mili gestures for the others to move behind her, sidling out of the way for them. "We'll fight them back here, on our terms."

Mili moves to R19.

[ArtichokeDip]

Aisolyn scrambles to her feet, covered with the blood of the nameless Pathfinder who lost his life to this madness. She moves back down the hallway, allowing others to get closer to the bloody corpses.

"Be careful entering that room! A hole in the sky spat out those corpses and could spawn more. But Denise is in there with them!"

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Entrance

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png
Round 2


Round 1 Resolution:
The battle seemed to spring into existence all at once - the surreal sight of Aisolyn's allies coming to her aid didn't quite fully register, until a moment later as she skidded back further from the lashing corpses. The large grey world, Fa'uka lunged overhead to crash down on one of the mutilated fleshy corpses. Her large maw caught the creature before the small human by its head, before thrashing back and forth ripping grey bloated skin from the animated body spilling a thick gelatinous-black-ooze from its wounds rather then blood. The goo seemed to congeal then solidify, leaving the corpse seemingly unharmed from the grievous mauling. The large wolf took a step back from the strange creature, sensing some unholy taint. These were not normal zombies at all.

Before the thought could even be contemplated further, the wild-cat-warrior Mili stormed down the hall ripping out her longsword from its scabbard and raising it overhead with a great deal of zeal. The corpse besides Aisolyn crawled forward, latching unto her chest with an emaciated hand, gurgling a black frothy bile from its contorted throat that spilled on the floor with a resounding hiss, like hot-steel to water. Before she could respond to the terrible monster, Mili came crashing down, bearing a fist full of steel. The sword cleaved through the back of the creature's skull, and out it's chin - showering Aisolyn with a blunt hail of broken teeth. The body twitched, spilling forth black inckor to the floor before it shriveled and exploded outwards in a puddle of the foul-stuff. The life-stealing chill of the black liquid befouled them both, and choked forth a cry of both surprise and pain. What was this!? - The corpses begun to rise from the ground...

Aisolyn pushed off the blighted ground, now slick with the cursed fluids and skittered off down the hall, bouncing off the wall while whipping the slime from her face. Similarly, Mili whipped her face of the scum with her forearm - Fa'uka had avoided the blast completely, but the chill of the goo as it froze the skin and stole their warmth could not be dealt with as easily. It froze their skin, the energy from their bodies seemed to be bled away - their life energy sucked away by mere contact with the goo that now covered them.

Fa'uka - Takes 1 Point of Cold Damage & Gains BlackBlood Blight I
Mili - Takes 1 Point of Cold Damage & Gains BlackBlood Blight I
Aisolyn - Takes 1 Point of Cold Damage & Gains BlackBlood Blight I

The corpses rose from the ground, one by one, shuffling and lifting their heavy bodies from the stone tiles of the theater. They seemed to twitch randomly, as if caught in spasms. Their eyes begun to liquefy, dripping out from their skulls in black puddles on the floor - landing with a sickening slap, like a fistfull of discarded meat. The strange inckor rolled down their faces and nose, seemingly from every orifice visible. Aisolyn could hear the familiar mocking laughter of the woman's voice within her mind; " My, you didn't think it would be that simple did you? Oh, my - you DID, didn't you? Foolish child... are you so naive? Though they are only simple fodder, they have been tainted by Caltherium. They will not be so simple to contend with. I will offer you my aid once more - and only this once. Vow fealty to me, and I will defend you and your pitiful lot, from those things waiting in gleeful anticipation to dismember you. What say you?"

Khellan watched Aisoyln stagger by covered with the freezing black goo - having had escaped from the would be death-trap of a room. Mirri instead took another approach, pulling back as her allies pressed forward into the fray. She hid behind a wall, keeping her line of sight open to the ensuing battle down the corridor. This was not good. The logistics of their position where already against them, and now this. They required strategy, brawn would not carry them through the day. The elf charged forward behind Mili, who smoked with a cold mist as her grime-covered-fur stiffened and froze. He had to act. With a commanding shout, he raised his wooden holy symbol high into the air crying out as a pulsating globe of golden energy crashed forward - shimmering with a green radience as it washed over Mili, Fa'uka, Aisolyn and the three undead before him, who shrieked out with terrible rasping voices. Flesh melted and fell from bone as they staggered backwards before the assault of positive energy. Black goo poured forth from their frothing mouths as their heads rolled back to the ceiling, causing them to gargle grotesquely. The wave of energy had nearly felled them... but it was not enough. They were stronger then typical zombies, though seemingly more frail to there particular vulnerabilities.

The black gore-covered puddle of blighted filth hissed, freezing the granite tiles til they cracked. Khellan took a step back from the disturbing puddle which left Fa'uka and Mili in the ankle-deep bile. The liquid was thick - an unsightly bubbling foul broth of congealing sanguine waste. Both of them seemed drained and out of sorts while also being caught within the pool - impeding movement. Fighting these creatures in such close proximity was a hazard to any of them. Denise cried out from the corner: " What are you doing!? They're Black-Blooded you fools, get back and deal with them individually in the hall, or you'll be killed. Don't let the blood touch you - don't step in the pools, and don't let them move unchecked! If you kill them all in separate places, you'll close off your own path to move with more puddles." As if realizing what she said, she covered her mouth sheepishly... It was rather strange. Denise never raised her voice, but what she said was true. Trying to fight the enemy without any plan would only box them in - the pools were caustic and dangerous. They would block themselves in if they killed the enemy carelessly.


Denise is not acting like herself - something is not right...

Upon closer look, you notice she does not have her iconic staff. An ancient relic that was once the sign of her Noble House before the tragedy struck during the in-fighting in Taldor which left her nameless and without a family of her own. It was perhaps the most important thing she possessed, she could never be found without it - She was also the only one who could wield it, though the reason as to why remained a mystery til this day... This wasn't the Denise they remembered.


She had not read of Caltherium (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Caltherium) in great detail, but she knew some of its terrible legend. A forsaken land within the land of Orv deep within the Darklands. It was said to be a lake of black waters - akin to blood, whose depths were unknown, yet said to reach so deep it penetrated to the Aboleth's home plane... But this was simple myth, the truth was forever lost with the ancient Azlanti people. All that was known, was that this strange liquid contained within the massive pit that was Caltherium, known as 'Blood-Blood', was a blight to the living...

OOC: Other PCs may attempt this knowledge check after hearing of Caltherium

Aisolyn must choose a response to the Strange Shadow's offer next round. Foregoing this is resolved as declining.

Fa'uka Initiative - [21]
Mili - [21]
Enemy #6 Initiative: (1d20+0)[20]
Mirri - [18]
Aisolyn - [18]
Enemy #5 Initiative: (1d20+0)[18]
Enemy #4 Initiative: (1d20+0)[14]
Enemy #1 Initiative: (1d20+0)[13]
Enemy #3 Initiative: (1d20+0)[10]
Enemy #2 Initiative: (1d20+0)[8]
Khellan Initiative - [5]


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


Black-Blood Effects
Black-Blood Blight I: Covered in gore and black blood, the character begins slowly freezing to death as their life-energy is drained from their bodies in a painful and unpleasant manner.

~ (Initial Effect) d15% Blinded for 1d4 Rounds
~ Creature fatigued until Status ends & and additional 1d3 Rounds after Status ends
~ Creature sustains 1d2 Points of Cold Damage/Round until Status ends
~ By spending a Standard Action cleaning themselves - Black-Blood Blight I ends immediately

Black-Blood Pools: Pools of ankle-deep sludge-like gore. This freezing puddle of Black-Blood is remarkably potent and equally dangerous to any creature not yet dead. Landing in this thick sludge, throws living creatures into temporary shock as the freezing super-cold of the blood. Remaining within these tainted places is inherently dangerous, and creatures are at risk of simply succumbing to the blight.

~ (Initial Effect) d25% Staggered for 1 Round
~ Creature sustains 1d2+1 Points of Cold Damage/Round
~ Creature is Ensnared and must pass a DC14 Strength Check to move through an effected square. (Check Required for each effected Square)
~ Creature must succeed DC12 Fortitude Save/Round or fall prone; contracting Black-Blood Blight - Additionally the DC's to resist the Pool increase by 2, with a chance of becoming Staggered for 1 Round (d30%)
~ Removing yourself from a Pool immediately ends the ensnared and damage conditions, but not Blight if contracted.


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


Round 2 Begins

Khellan - HP: 12/12
Mili - HP: 11/14 (Black-Blood Blight I / Black-Blood Pool)
Mirri - HP: 12/12
Aisolyn - HP: 11/11 (Black-Blood Blight I)
Fa'uka - HP: 13/16 (Black-Blood Blight I / Black-Blood Pool)




(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16
Khellan Number 2
Mirri Number 17
Mili Number 5
Fa'uka Triangle 3

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
Denise Brown Diamond 1

Enemies
Red Diamonds

Slain Enemies
Red Cross

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture5_zpsyf0mgozt.jpg

[Mokou-tan]

Renka let out a soft sigh as she follows after the others, able to make out bits of the fight. When she can make out the actual situation, she decides to hang back, realizing that getting too close to her channeling ally may cause her great harm. The Escuprescan lady keeps her hands ready to draw and throw one of her obsidian shuriken in a moments notice.

Movement to S19
Stealth: [roll0] (if it might matter)

[Khosan]

With a quick nod to Renka, Mili peers out from behind the corner. She couldn't quite tell what the black ooze some of her friends were covered in was, but it was plain to see that it was causing them pain and wasn't about to stop. It was also quite obvious that the large pile of gore that had previously been a zombie was deep. Deep enough that the other zombies wouldn't be able to run through it easily and probably slick enough that they'd fall on it too. "Get back here," she says, motioning for the others once more, "and get those zombie guts off you. Khellan, you too, help Fa'uka clean herself off."

She waits for them to move back before she herself moves up to hold the dead off, pulling her dagger out to defend herself with.

Mili readies an action to move to M18, once Khellan leaves the spot.

[Phasm]

Mirri yelps at the frigid cold of the zombie guts, then growls and shakes her sword off. She's about to go leaping over the pool when Denise's voice cuts through the combat. Oh. Note to self, cold zombie guts are Bad. Instead she tries to retreat, but her paws are firmly stuck in the Goop of Doom. "I'm stuck!" Well, at least she can try and wipe it off the rest of her. The catfolk tosses her torch over her shoulder and wipes herself down with her free hand, wiping the hand itself on a relatively clean part of her cloak when she's done. After she does so, she retrieves a small blue vial from her belt pouch. "I got a healing potion here, but I could use some help getting loose!"


Throw torch down the hall somewhere, clean off Goop of Doom, and retrieve healing potion.

[ArtichokeDip]

Aisolyn wipes the gore and black ichor off her body, shuddering as she feels the cold leeching in.

Something this powerful could take us anytime it wanted... unless there was something stopping it. We're protected! For now at any rate...

"We need to hurry! Something is giving us protection from the forces outside, but it will only last a couple minutes more. We need to get Denise and get out before then!"

To Mirri she says, "I can stun them temporarily, but only if they are close and none of you are between them and I."

[flat_footed]

As Aisolyn passes her to a safer area, Fa'uka keeps her teeth bared and growls threateningly at the remaining corpse in front of her as the other is cut down. An unexpected rain of blood sprays out, catching Fa'uka fully. Instinctively, shakes herself off at the unexpected chill of the blood coating her fur. She can feel the cold coalescing around her paws, but remains where she is to protect Aisoyn's escape.
Fa'uka shakes off the blood and stays at K18.
Seeing Fa'uka's attack to so little to the corpses, Khellan forms his lips into a snarl to call her back to his side. The air catches in his throat as Mirri tears past him, a look of glee on her face as she easily cuts through one of the corpses that was around Aisolyn. A thick fluid erupts from the shattered body, catching Fa'uka and Mirri and forming a shallow pool at their feet. "Black-Blood Blight.." Khellan whispers to himself, instinctively stepping back from the puddle. He cannot say how he knew, but the words formed immediately in his mind as he saw it take effect. They were in as much danger from the blight as they were from the corpses that carried them.

With a grim look, Khellan allows Fa'uka to remain in the doorway, protecting the bottleneck. Mirri seemed to also be having trouble freeing herself from the pool at her feet, but Khellan was heartened to see that the corpses seemed to have a similar handicap to their movement. Sheathing his bow and removing a small dagger, Khellan again holds the symbol of Ketephys up high.
Khellan channels positive energy over the group and remains at M18. DC11 for half damage.
[roll0]

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Entrance

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png
Round 3

Round 2 Resolution:
Chaos in-sued...

Fa'uka grunted in pain as the freezing bloody sludge seeped into her canine paws, stiffening fur and whitening skin. She had shaken the sheet of gore from her, but the sickly pool ate away at her life energy. The undead horde shambled forward with awkward sluggish movements, like a man throwing his broken limbs forward, or a child wearing some ill-fitting fleshy suit. Mirriturned to break away from combat, realizing the ill predicament Denise had only hinted at in her council. This room was a deathtrap, not because of what creatures lingered here, but because of the taint they carried... She attempted to move back the way she had come- to no avail! The thick sludge glued her feet to the stone, holding her fast. She staggered once as the freezing cold of undeath froze the skin on her feet, seeping down into the bone. She begun to shake and thrash as the inkor covering her killed the warm living tissue it coated. Her vision begun to blur, as if her senses were numbed - her skin took a sickly hue, becoming pale, the veins in her arms visibly throbbing. She could feel her stomach turning, as if disgusted - flem and mucus filling her throat as if she was about to wretch, an unpleasent iron-like taste in her mouth. The pounding of her heart was audible in her ears as her sight begun to narrow - tunnel-vision. She couldn't stay in this muck... She was dying... It was a strange sensation.

Mirri's coordination seemed to temporarily deteriorate, a rocking sensation, as if she were going to fall. Her head tilted back in a daze as her eyes begun to roll back into her head - threatening to loose consciousness. She shook herself back, fighting off the numbing sensation - yet for an instant, she felt as if she had felt something, something far away - watching her. Her eyes regained their focus, just in time to watch the void-ceiling drop closer to them by perhaps another 5 or 10ft. It would have been unnoticeable had she not seen it as it descended... Something was in there - laying in wait within that maelstrom of darkness. She was sure of it.

The undead standing before Fa'uka lumbered forward, lifting its arms to crush the canine beast - intent on bludgeoning the creature to death. It reared back and brought its arms down viciously- caught in the sludge, the undead monster slipped in the black slime falling face first with a massive thud, slamming into the floor harmlessly a foot away from the wolf. The other creatures trudged through the gore with much difficulty lashing out with jagged claws to reach the grey wolf, but just out of reach.

Aisolyn could hear cackling laughter in her mind, bitter and mean spirited. "Ungrateful wretch... Very well then, if you will not accept my hospitality. I will leave you to whatever cruel fate The Valsharess of Depths has for you. At least try to die in an assuming manner, at least you may provide some degree of entertainment for my time." As if her word had delivered some weight of finality - the once-visible corridor was flooded with a ghastly bleak miasma extinguishing all light and choking even the darkness away, leaving nothing save for a well of painful burning smoke. Aisolyn glanced at the window at her side as the veil of darkness came down - a familiar man was floating outside, punching the glass with the hilt of his sabre. It was Sir Dalmon!?

The sound of glass breaking could be heard - then the rush and surge, as if water poured into the hall. The mist was washed away in a semi-tangible ectoplasmic clear liquid which washed over the party, leaving them dry - as if pushed by some moist-gale. Though the interior was still cloaked in a haze of supernatural darkness, magical light flickered into life from the noble's sword, as he drew his blade with a flourish and bladed-salute. Though he appeared outwardly calm, his shaking legs betrayed his distress - how he had even managed to survive in the unearthly vacuum outside was a mystery in itself. His face was dark and his eyes were hardened, the stain of crimson blood ruined his marvelous overcoat - adorned with dark purples and golds as common among the aristocracy of Caliphas. His polish adamant blade had seen combat as well...

As they recalled, Sir E'France Dalmon had personally accompanied Denise and her Pathfinders in their initial mission. Learning The Hero of Bravoy had been Venture-Captain Haldan's cousin had been quite unexpected, but having the swordmaster with them had bolstered moral considerably. "Glad am I to see you again - Though I had hoped perhaps under better circumstances..." He bit his lip, lowering his head - in turn his feathered hat, blocking his visage. Evidently distressed, he choked out the words. "...We must leave... No one else is left. The cellar is the only path left." Khellan cried out as he unleashed another wave of golden energy from his holy symbol - briefly lighting up the pitch-black room as a wall of zombies exploded before him showering Fa'uka with a wave of gore - but he also noticed something else in the brief moment of vision. Denise was gone...

Fa'uka - Takes 2 Points of Cold Damage & Gains Black-Blood Blight I

-Light Level reduced to Supernatural-Darkness; Darkvision does not function in this light.
- E'France's sword raises light level to: Dim-Light within effected area
- Previous light effects have been extinguished and must be reactivated

Sir E'France Dalmon was born to House Dalmon. A noble house known for producing fine swordsmen even in Taldor. E'France had spent most of his life refining his swordsmenship and attending The Choral Academy, studying science, history and the arts as he was groomed to succeed his father. That day would never come; On his 22'nd birthday, E'France inherited a small military post outside of Rostland - a simple and unremarkable little fort to serve as a strategic position and provisioning base for the Rogarvia regular army. Over two-years he turned what was once - near to nothing, into a successful and bustling small trade village between Issia & Rostland. An undeclared 'neutral ground' serving as a buffer between the bitter nations.

In AR4704, unexpectedly and suddenly - E'France's estates were seized by The House of Dalmon, and the twenty-six year old noble was escorted under armed-guard back to his home. It was there he was stripped of his name and title then cast out of his House. All had seemed to be going so well - the pride of his family; but it was not but a month previous that the secret of his birth had been revealed. His mother had been unfaithful to his 'father' with some nameless half-elven man he had never met. Though his father's advisers begged on E'France's behalf, he would not listen - caught in both anger and disgust. The young man was sent into exile.

AR4706: Returning back to the land he once ruled after two-years of wandering - living by his swordarm, he decided to settle, serving his former subjects as best he could. He was welcomed openly, yet the life he had begun to build would be burned to the ground. War returned to the tumultuous nation - The armies of Rostland and Issia met in heated combat at Lake Reykal once more. The war lasted 6 months, stagnating as provisions and men begun to run in short supply - skirmishes burned the countryside as both parties fought and stole whatever supplies they could find, unwilling to break away from the field with the enemy before them. E'France's town was raided as were many others - a terrible attack from which it would never recover. He begged aid from The Rogarvia, but with their noble head missing - they were left directionless and defanged. Heartbroken and furious - he took up the twin-headed banner of Brevoy. If none would stand for his home, he would stand alone.

The 3rd Battle of Reykal ended with no victor, and by the sword of one-man. Bearing the standards of Brevoy, House Dalmon and House Rogarvia E'France stormed the field of battle alone - challenging Rostland's Milrena Aldori, and Issia's Domani Surtova to single-combat, boasting how he would defeat them both at once. No Aldori Swordlord could turn away from such a blatant challenge, nor could the King's Uncle Domani allow himself to be humbled before both his men and his enemy. The terms were set, the duel accepted.

The legend that would become E'France Dalmon begun that day. In a duel unlike any before it, the exiled noble fought with a fury and intensity never before seen. Besting Milrena and Domani simultaneously in an entirely one-sided onslaught, disarming them both. Ending the war in an instant. For his actions he received a knighthood from The House of Rogarvia's Crimson Order - once again reclaiming his nobility. Unsatisfied with his victory alone - E'France traveled both Issia and Rostland with the reinvigorated Rogarvian Knights, dueling the some of the greatest Swordlords and warriors either nation had to offer, subjugating them into a tentative peace over the course of a five-year campaign. For his actions, he received the blessing of The House of Dalmon once again - reclaiming his name and his place in history as a noble sword-master of the people and peace.

Within Rostland, E'France Dalmon is spoken of with equal measure of resentment and awe. Often compared to Sirian Aldori himself - as similarly, both men had changed greatly during their periods of exile returning as a force to be reckoned wielding unparalleled mastery of their art. Yet, it was evident that E'France Dalmon knew nothing of the Aldori's techniques nor The Swordpact - thus the mystery as to his transformation remained a hotly debated subject for the proud swordmasters.


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


Round 3 Begins

Khellan - HP: 12/12
Mirri- HP: 6/14 (Black-Blood Blight I / Black-Blood Pool)
Mili - HP: 12/12
Aisolyn - HP: 11/11
Fa'uka - HP: 9/16 (Black-Blood Blight I / Black-Blood Pool)

(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16 / N18
Khellan Number 2 / M18
Mirri Cat / L18
Mili Rat / O18
Fa'uka Triangle 3 / K18
Renka Number 7 / S19

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
E'France Dalmon / M17

Enemies
Red Diamonds
~ K19
~ H19

Slain Enemies
Blood Splatters

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture6_zpsas5rixth.jpg






Efrance Dalmon - Hero of Brevoy
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/%20Efrance%20Dalmon%20-%20Copy_zps6vlw5m15.jpg

[Phasm]

"The ceiling's coming down- not the stones, there's something else up there!" Mirri shakes violently in her armor; this can't really be called shivering anymore, she's beyond that. "Cayden Cailean, Drunken Hero, we could really use some help right about now." He doesn't have any formal prayers like other gods, people just say whatever they feel like saying to him. Prayer made, the catfolk musters the strength to pull the cork out of the potion vial with her teeth, spit it out, and knock the healing potion back like a shot of whiskey. New strength surges through her chilled veins, but she's still wounded and still freezing cold.

"Must... get... OUT!" Now that she doesn't feel quite so close to dying, Mirri tries to pull free of the muck once more.


Do we get a Strength check every round? I'm not familiar with the Ensnared condition and it's not in the Conditions section of the Pathfinder SRD.

[flat_footed]

Shaking off the blood once again, Fa'uka sees that Aisolyn has retreated to a safe point within the rest of the group. With a mighty leap, she frees herself from the pool and returns to Khellan's side. Her head is hanging low as she seems barely able to keep her head up. Steam is visible from her mouth as the unnatural chill still seems to cling to her. As Aisolyn's spell draws warmth back into her, Fa'uka's eyes seem to mirror that spark and her breathing grows less shallow as she straightens up.
Fa'uka shares M18 with Khellan. Essentially, his legs are on either side of her.

Khellan blinks rapidly as his eyes try to adjust to the sudden darkness. It's not often he cannot see, even on the darkest of nights, and it's very concerning for him. Fa'uka's strength is almost gone as she stands with him, as much for warmth as safety. Hearing two more corpses at the door, Khellan steadies himself and holds his holy symbol to his chest, willing every last drop of righteous power to flow through him. "Ketephys."
Another channel at the undead.

[ArtichokeDip]

Placing her hand on the injured Fa'uka, Aisolyn Cures her with divine energy, healing her wounds somewhat. "It won't be so bad in a minute..."

"If the only way out is the cellar, then lead us there, Dalmon. We may need your sword to clear that path."

Doubts remained in her mind, however. Was Denise just a figment of whatever made this? And if she was, couldn't Dalmon be as well? Where did he come from? This place is madness...

[Khosan]

Blinded by the darkness, Mili swears profusely under her breath. Something about Lady Luck and where she can stuff 'it' and some vulgar lamentations about what they'd done to deserve this.

She'd caught a glimpse of someone familiar before the glass broke and their voice confirmed it was Sir Dalmon. Probably the last person or thing she'd expected to come in through the windows. Why he was out there when Denise was in here was anybody's guess. They'd been a part of the same group, so if Denise had been in here and the door was shut, how and why did he end up out there? Questions for later, she thought, ending that line of thinking before she got any more distracted.

Inching forward, her head popped out of the supernatural darkness for a moment, enough for her to see what was going on. There was another wall of blackness a few feet ahead, past which she couldn't see anything. The only thing she could see was Mirri still coated in the black gore and in worsening condition. Not seeing anything else for her to offer, Mili concentrates for a moment, using a small amount of her psychic magic to clean the dangerous substance off her feline friend.

Standard Action: Casts Prestidigitation, using it to clean off Mirri.

[Mokou-tan]

A smile creeps upon Renka's face as the darkness covers her. A familiar feeling fills her, letting her know where she was. Home. The dark was where she felt most at ease and now she is in her element in the purest sense. The little assassin runs as quickly and quietly as she can, attempting to scale up the wall a short distance and lay in wait.

Double move into O18, 1 square up at half speed, second move on the wall.
Stealth:[roll0]
Climb: Take 10 for 19 due to climb speed. No Dex mod loss.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Entrance

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png
Round 4

Round 3 Resolution:
Fa'uka yelped and cried as the thick sludge begun to melt the fur on her legs and her skin froze, becoming icy and lifeless. The terrible numbing chill of death made her body tremble as the blood vessels under her skin begun to burst, and her muscles spasmed violently. She thrashed about wildly in a crazed fit, finally throwing herself out of the pool, tumbling along the granite floors with a resounding skidding series of 'thumps'. Shaking the gore from her mane, she limped over to Khellan's side with bloodied tender paws - visibly shaking from the trauma. Her head bobbed up and down as she vigorously panted in pained breaths, her eyes blinking independently - disoriented. Efrance lowered his head as if to look away, then addressing Aisolyn "...I'll see what I can do. But we need to move quickly - there's not much time." His gaze shifted up to the void-ceiling at Mirri's remark, his face darkening - without a word, he swung around the window and ran along the side of the wall - kicking off into a 20ft long jump over the blight and into the room. The light traveled with him, radiating outwards from his enchanted blade. Renka stealthily climbed upon the walls above Mili unseen, making her own way down the hall. The undead lurched forward mindlessly, groaning with thrashing hands reaching out for the ensnared cat-warrior. She struggled with all her might crying out until she felt the grotesque slime release her and the splash of the corpses falling face-first into the muck - sinking partly out of sight. Efrance violently kicked the table further within the room with his boot freeing it from the rusty screws holding it to the floor - his eyes constantly seeming to dart back to the black-sky above. He pushed and shoved, until the metal ends of the legs were finally free from the calcified debris and rust. He tried to flip over the 15ft sheet of heavy hardwood with his free hand, but to no avail - his strength seemed to give out on him, though his focus seemed to be elsewhere - as if distracted. He grunted against the weight, but then stopped suddenly, looking up as his attention was draw away by the dull thud as Fa'uka collapsed on the floor. "...Gods. We're out of time." Mili unleashed a small bead glowing blue magic at Mirri, flushing the filth off of her - just as the blast from Khellan's holy symbol caused one of the fallen corpses to explode, covering her with filth once again and flooding the area with a new pool of freezing gore. The blast of positive energy struck Renka as well, silently reeling from the sudden blow. Mirri quaffed down a potion a threw the empty glass to shatter on the wall in frustration as the life stealing blight covered her once again, whipping the filth from her eyes and cursing her ill luck. Something in this place hated her.

Aisolyn raised her hands to heal the collapsed Fa'uka, but she did not get the chance. The wolf's body faded, becoming translucent as she had been once before. The image of the canine-companion diminished into a simple two-dimensional shadow of itself. As if that shadow was all that remained. It stretched and twisted into a familiar band of black and lightless energy that appeared bleak even in the dark. It flowed up into the void that loomed above them. Aisolyn could hear the wicked cackling in her mind from the nameless specter which she had spurned. Efrance cried out - " TIME'S UP! WE NEED TO MOVE - NOW! FORGET THE DEAD!" He snapped out a knife throwing it into the far wall taking down the curtain which ran around the room revealing a passage way on the western side of the blighted room. A burst of magic filled him, surrounding him with a pale aura. Within a split-second he had already leapt off from the table across the room, landing with a skidding-splashing-roll in the shallow side of one of the blood-pools as if it was of absolutely no significance anymore.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/1431396154%20-%20Copy%203_zpsbbmdzg4u.jpg

The darkness deep within the room seemed to lighten and grow pale. Streams of white mist poured down from the infinite vastness of the gaping black-maw that hung above. With a terrible crack, the ground shuddered and the void-ceiling lowered another 10ft. The walls trembled and the air seemed to thin, the howling wind seeming to pick up in full as if what atmosphere existed within the building was being sucked out. spider-web-like fractures raced down the hard marble of the room and hall's interior.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/1431396154%20-%20Copy%202_zps6qc0b3bw.jpg

The white mist begun to fill the ground, changing the granite floor into a strange translucent glass-like surface. The many dancing shadows that moved about them as if caught in some shadowplay were given reflections upon the ground's mirrored surface. Great and terrible feral beasts, with glowing eyes and bloodied tusks lumbered about as if marching in lock-step cadence, parading triumphantly in some monochrome nightmare filled with horrors. Bodies of men and non-monstrous creatures adorned them as if the bloodied-mutilated corpses were lavish adornments to fashion a uniform of sorts in their grotesque display. Heads of women, children and men sat ripe atop horns and jagged pikes of blackened glass-like steel, waved madly in the hands or strange-gibbering demonic creatures in gleeful celebration. The chanting of some macabre choir filled their ears in deafening cacophony - it was impassible to hear anything above words screamed at the top of ones lungs. A voice filled Aisolyn's mind once more - a familiar voice. " ...And we could have stopped her this time around too. Stupid child. No matter. I suppose there will always be next time, well... not for you of course. At least try and run - it would be too boring if you died easily."


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/1431396154%20-%20Copy_zps0yyyzmar.jpg

Silver light seemed to dance and twitch, manifesting massive terrible arms of white glowing mist. Arms wielding vicious claws, lashed out from the dark, deep within the room as if grasping for some invisible object. They violently opened and slammed shut repeatedly with bone-crushing force. Efrance lashed out with his sabre trying to keep his balance in the thick pool of filth. His weapon passed through one hand and slashed into another driving it back - the magic of his weapon hummed as if contact with the foul entity had awakened something. " DOESN'T MATTER HOW YOU DO IT, GET OUT OF THERE OR DIE!" The wailing of the infernal choir seemed to crescendo at once, as all of the ghastly hands reeled up with open palms as streams of blinding pale light pierced the darkness from the void above. With terrific shuddering crashes, massive blades of light fell from above amid a wash of blue flames. The rain of clear, glass-like blades came in every imaginable assortment of swords, some larger then any of them in stature. The impaled the translucent ground as if shattering glass. From the rain of blades descended a massive eldritch entity - a humanoid creature clad in layers and layers of dark-blued armor with sapphire eyes of flame. A massive crown of metal horns stood grandly from his brow. Standing 18ft tall - his horns grazed the void above him. The monstrous sentinel lifted up a metal-clad hand drawing forth a massive sword from the darkness then drove it into the ground before him shattering the ground and vomiting forth geysers of sapphire flame. It was an Outsider unlike any they had heard of... It looked up with its burning eyes at the lot of Pathfinders across the room - unmoving, as if made of stone. The choir stopped - silence filled the air. He opened his mouth. A strange psionic vox-amplified grinding howl of a voice flooded into the chamber with a reverberating impact, shattering the walls and floor:


"AR...COR...KERYM......"


Efrance nearly toppled to the ground from the sonic assault - "...That would be our cue ladies."


Aegisir; Ar’Cor'Kerym - (Elvish: Kingsblade)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Enemy/%20002-10R_zpswrerlh8a.jpg




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

Trapped within the terrible void, the creature's body and soul begin to dissolve fueling the great entity that slumbers within - furthering their Resurrection. Remaining within the void even briefly can destroy lesser creatures entirely.

Trapped creatures must succeed a DC18 Will Save, on failure the creature gains 1d4 Negative Levels, this is not a Negative Energy effect. Each level drained generates 1 Profane Point. On a successful save the creature is freed and thrown out of the void in a random location (fall damage applies normally)



Round 4 Begins

Khellan - HP: 12/12
Mirri- HP: 9/14 (Black-Blood Blight I / Black-Blood Pool)
Mili - HP: 12/12
Aisolyn - HP: 11/11
Fa'uka - HP: 3/16 (Ascended Damnation)
Renka - HP: 7/9

(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16 / N18
Khellan Number 2 / M18
Mirri Cat / L18
Mili Rat / O18
Fa'uka ------- / ---
Renka Number 7 / O18

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
E'France Dalmon / G17

Enemies
Red Diamonds
~ H19 (zombie) / Prone
~ F20 (AEGISIR)


Slain Enemies
Blood Splatters

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture7_zps36m5vkcj.jpg

[Phasm]

For a long, long moment, Mirri just stares up at the apparition, speechless. Her brain is cowering in the back of her skull gibbering in horror. Ohgodsohgodsohgodswe'reallgonnadie!

"...eep."

Efrance's shout breaks her out of her panic. Immediately the catfolk roughly wipes the worst of the muck off (again!), then starts struggling to break free of the black blood. "If any of you brainy types have an idea for how to get to the door without getting stuck, now would be a real good time to speak up! Oh, and if somebody could grab my torch, I'd be much obliged, might come in handy later!"


Poor Mirri, this is what you get for being a frontliner!

Strength check: [roll0]

[flat_footed]

As much as Khellan wanted to give in to despair, some part of him refused to. Fa'uka, the one constant in the blur of his life, was gone. Just like that. The one spark that kept hope alive was that she disappeared much in the way that Aisolyn had. Khellan's mind was a blur of thoughts.
Aisolyn faded the same way, and she returned. Fa'uka's coming back. She isn't gone. I didn't see her die, she just faded. Aisolyn returned unharmed. Why would they take a wolf? There is no body, she's still alive. Still alive. I have to find her. I have to survive and find her.
Mirri's outburst shatters Khellan's thoughts. His face rises just as she tears herself free of the blood pool and rams into him. Catching her by the pack, Khellan spies her tent and bedroll and an idea bursts into light. His fingers a blur on the straps, the tent falls free of its binding as the bedroll is soon to follow. "Sorry!" Khellan gasps as he shoulders past her to the edge of the blood pool. With a quick flourish, he lays the tent across the first expanse of blood. Barely daring to breathe, Khellan steps gingerly on the tent as it bobs up and down slightly. As his weight holds, Khellan lets out his breath with a whoosh and quickly strides a few steps forward and tosses the bedroll in much the same manner. Stepping to the side, Khellan allows Aisolyn to squeeze past him with her own bedding in hand. I can't believe this is working.

Khellan places the temporary barrier at L18 and K18 (tent) as well as H18 (bedroll) before letting Aisolyn step past him.

[ArtichokeDip]

Drawing what she can out of her own pack, Aisolyn uses her tent and bedding to help build a path over the pools of black blood that have formed.

"Whatever this is, it isn't survivable. We can't afford to look back after this."

"Whatever happened to Fa'uka, hope isn't lost for her until all of us are gone."

[Mokou-tan]

Renka hisses and decides to make a break for the hallway, the holy light having seared her body. With calm determination, she clings to the wall and tries to get near Dalmon, deciding to break from her stealth in order to escape and hoping he'll provide some level of protection against this new foe in a pinch.

Take 10 climb for 19, heading for what would be H16, H14 if she sees nothing dangerous further down. She'll also drop to the floor at her destination by letting go.

[Khosan]

"I'm not about to argue," Mili ducks as she notices Renka's tail whip past her head, "I don't think going outside is any better. But how is going deeper down going to help us? She follows the others along the makeshift bridge and darts to the front as soon as she's able, "Again, not that I'm arguing."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Reception Chamber

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 5

Round 4 Resolution:
The lot of them burst into motion as Efrance's cries brought them back into focus. They needed to move or this would be the end. Mirri ripped herself free from the sludge as Khellan and Aisolyn went to work throwing down tents and bed rolls over the small lake of black inkor. They pranced over the sinking surfaces with soft steps as Renka scampered by along the wall overhead. The massive blazing azure entity stood silently - un-moving. Efrance pulled around the corner, seeming to take a breath of relief with the flash-improvised bridge as the group crossed. The stealthy cat climbed further in - completely missed by the nimble duelist as she investigated further down the hall. A large door, identical to the one they had come through at firmly closed at its end, seemingly undisturbed, quite contrary to its sibling-portal which was thoroughly damaged. She dropped down to the floor, with no threats to be seen. Efrance through down a flask of holy water at his feet quickly freeing himself from the angle-deep blight as the others came into reach, moving out of the room.

Just as the last of them stepped onto the hall, the massive armored creature ripped his blade from the ground, thrusting it into the black-hole above with both hands. With a massive seismic-crash the entirety of the room exploded into broken chunks of stone devoured by the endless consuming darkness above - as if the world had begun to fall in reverse within the confines of the chamber.

The room behind them vanished within the void leaving nothing except silence. The only source of light within the hall hummed from Efrance's blade "...Well done, I hadn't thought of that-" The floor beneath them jarred violently, as if it leapt up to spring to life, roiling. The Hero of Brevoy glanced back down the hall as all the stones of the hall animated - the walls and floor spinning violently throwing them from their feet to fly tumbling in the wildly spinning cylindrical shaft. Renka was drawn down the hall first, thrown face first into the door. "...Dammit, cat! " He thrust his blade into the wall, being abruptly yanked out of the air to spin in the whirling cyclone of stone. The others fell - tumbling down to crash down as the massive 20ft doors opened to spew the party out into another room - well lit and lavishly adorned, yet a terrible iron-stench violated their lungs. The smell of blood, and gore mingling with feces and the half digested contents of perhaps the remains of a dozen men. Efrance kicked off the wall, clearing his blade from the whirling stones as he landed in the room with a graceful tumble. " Gods, we just can't get a break... We should not have come this way - there was a second hall. A safe hall reflecting the previous. We could have accessed it if we had only swam through the void outside, through the window. But there's no time to think of that now-" BOOOM cracks ran along the ground, as the door in the far side of the room shuttered and trembled - dust fell from the portals heavy adamant mountings as something pounded against it. The Reception Chamber was fairly large, with two doors, the one they had fallen through, and the one before them. The hall behind them seemed to have returned to its normal appearance, but there was only the stillness of the void endlessly stretching off back the way they had come - creeping towards them as if the darkness chased the light, consuming all existence. The large rectangular clerk's desk sat before them. A wooden chamber-like structure surrounded by seats and a bar-top. BOOOM the door shuddered again as something massive crashed into the 40ft door. The blackened adamant bands bent under the pressure. Without a word, the duelist sprung into action, lifting his sabre and cutting down the simple wooden door into the clerk's counter, "...The path to the cellars is beneath the counter, but this one is sealed! I need time to figure out how to open it. Buy me some time. Amarillis... I could use some help."

Efrance dived behind the counter, throwing shelves about as if looking for something. After a moment he paused, stopping to look up at the screen-like counter. Denise leaned on the bar looking at him lazily, seemingly manifesting out of thin air. The strange grin and lackadaisical manner she stood seemed to raise some red flag in their minds - nothing fit. This was not Denise. Efrance scowled, "...What the hell are you doing. Your twisted sense of humor is less then amusing." She chuckled, her voice was strange, completely unalike anyone they knew - but Aisolyn recognized the familiar voice in a moment. " My, my, so cruel. I'm quite fond of this child's form." He threw another shelf aside, sending papers scattering on the floor. " Save your sick jokes for later - and help me! That thing-" BOOOM, dust fell from the ceiling and the chandeliers within the room struck each other with a resounding series of rings. " -That thing will be on us before I finish." She slowly glanced back at the splintered door, then slowly turned back to the swordmaster. " Hm.... Yes. Quite unfortunate for you to be dragged to your grave by these pitiful fools..." He threw his sword on the floor angrily, "...Dammit, you fickle woman! Why now!?" She gestured to the group at the side of the room scrambling to regain their feet. "The short, stupid girl said she didn't want my aid. She said you can all die- and she didn't like my hair!" Efrance, stopped, running his palm over his face in frustration. BOOM... BOOOM.. BOOOOM... The crashing had escalated in pace, the door begun to bend inward. "Perhaps if she begs for forgiveness... I may reconsider." Efrance, banged his head on the wall, "...Dammit, we don't have time for this." A stone in the wall pressed inward revealing a hidden section of the wall. "...Oh. That's fortunate." The imposter of Denise chuckled. "You're still going to die."


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


Round 5 Begins

Khellan - HP: 12/12
Mirri- HP: 9/14
Mili - HP: 12/12
Aisolyn - HP: 11/11
Fa'uka - HP: 3/16 (Ascended Damnation)
Renka - HP: 7/9

(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16 / N18
Khellan Number 2 / M18
Mirri Cat / L18
Mili Rat / O18
Fa'uka ------- / ---
Renka Number 7 / O18

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
E'France Dalmon / G17

Enemies
Red Diamonds
~ H19 (zombie) / Prone
~ F20 (AEGISIR)


Slain Enemies
Blood Splatters


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture8_zpst2tf2yna.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

Addressing the thing that looks like Denise, "Your aid would be most welcome, and I regret any insult I may have caused, but I have no desire for my mind to be eaten by... whatever you are. I know that I would be powerless if you truly wished it."

Turning to E'France, she says more slowly, "Dalmon... did you give it what it asked for? This thing pretending to be Denise..."

[Khosan]

Steadying herself against the wall, Mili lets loose another string of vulgarities under her breath. Things were steadily making less sense as they went and in combination with the alchemical gunk seeping into her ear, she was getting more and more agitated.

"Would one of you two like to explain what's going on here?" Mili follows Dalmon behind the bar, stopping next to "Denise." The rat's head peeks above the counter as she regards the thing impersonating her friend, "Aside from our imminent demise. That I can understand." She turns back to Dalmon, "I also get that we're in a hurry here but...How do you even know anything about what the hell's been happening here?!"

[flat_footed]

As they are cast into another room, Khellan immediately begins to look for a way out. Each passage is one step closer to the end and getting free of the circle's influence. He listens intently to Efrance's conversation, not a little shocked that he seems to know so much about the entity wearing Denise. A conversation for another time.
Looking around, Khellan hears the labored breathing of Mirri and sees the blood still caked on her fur. He walks back to her and lays a hand in her shoulder. "I fear we're just starting to understand the trials here. I'll do what I can to ease your pain."
[roll0]

[Phasm]

Mirri sighs in relief as the elven god's power heals her wounds. "Thank you, Khellan. That feels about a thousand times better." There's a terrible flaming THING and its undead chorus on their tails, zombies that explode into black Goop of Doom, and something wearing their friend Denise's body, but at least she isn't bleeding anymore. Life is looking up! She starts helping Efrance search the room; two sets of eyes are better than one and whatever's going on with Denise, it's magic. Mirri doesn't do magic.


Searching for a way out, or failing that, useful stuff in general.

Perception: [roll0]

[Mokou-tan]

Renka tumbles into the room and gets back up onto her feet rather quickly, groaning slightly. Seeing Khellan using magic makes her very uncomfortable as she instinctively takes several steps away from him. I just need to find a way out... Or at least stall the enemies... Renka begins taking in as much of the room as she can, looking for anything out of the ordinary she may be able to use.

Perception: [roll0]

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Reception Chamber

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 6

Round 5 Resolution:
There had only been chaos since this all had begun - and seemingly the world itself had become surreal, filled with dreadful terrors that dwelt in realms far beneath and beyond. Efrance's face took a puzzled look as he furrowed his brow at Aisolyn's off-hand comment. "...Give her, what? Did she demand something of you?" BOOOM cracks ran along the ground, shattering the marble tiles, a long glass crystal fell from a chandelier above, shattering upon the ground. "That was a poor attempt at 'begging' - perhaps you'll do better if I beat some respect into you..." "...Perhaps you'd care to explain what demands you've been making." - The impostor of Denise cleared her throat, "...Ignore the stupid girl, you've other problems now." BOOOOOM

The massive adamantine struts exploded off the 40ft tall door, the large darkwood planks of the portal shattered into splinters flying into the room with a massive crash. "Oh my, you've no manner of luck have you? Now L'As'Maral comes for your heads? You've some godly-manner of skill in your provocations." A living storm of black-caustic miasma poured into the room, burning the floor, walls and ceiling before washing over them. Their skin flared in red agitation from the acidic flesh-eating filth that choked their lungs. Blinded, breathless - some terrible monstrosity born of some unknowable plane of horrors slithered forth from the portal, lumbering some 25ft from ground to head, made of the putrid and nauseating mist. It was as some faceless wraith, yet made of nothing - shadow given form, like some figment of a twisted child's imagination. A hissing shrill filled their ears, rattling their bones and causing the walls to quiver and snap as the stone tiles spontaneously begun to pop and burst as the pressure of the room intensified. Some unnatural gravitational shift of oppressive and crushing might that threatened to slay them all where they stood. "Oh, that does look painful. I wonder if you'll be simply melted by this atrocious fog, or just be crushed? ...Hm, that's hardly amusing if you all die at once tough."


Aegisir: L'As'Maral
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Enemy/4e22b165f87016c9e834f84665954550fe4dabba%20-%20Copy_zpstyuamz36.jpg

The group, held their breath, covered their faces and attempted to stagger away from the encroaching evil of the massive specter - but there was no place to run. The acidic fog begun to nip at their flesh, searing flesh and tarnishing the metal of their equipment with light rust in an instant. The impostor of Denise sighed, quite evidently unaffected by the mist - in fact, she was not breathing at all, nor was her body or cloths effected in the slightest. She wasn't real - the thought hit them like a sudden revelation. This was not their friend, nor even the body of her friend: it was less then a fake. "I suppose I'll have to intervene this time..."

After some thought, you remember where you had heard the name. It was the name of Denise's staff. While you hard payed little attention to it in the past, she spent a great deal of her time in meditation and purifying her body to maintain her control of the weapon. Bishop had explained it was an artifact handed down through her family and maintaining its seal had been the duty of the women in her lineage for centuries past. Though you only spoke of it once, she had told you it contained one of the first evils within the world - a force of great power which had shaped The First World, but after the rise of the gods, the being was sealed away during The Age of Legend

The beings name... The beings name. Thinking as hard as you could, it finally came to mind:
Her name was Amarillis'ai'loki!

The terrible smog ruptured outward - blasted from the room by a brilliant purple light. A storm of shimmering butterflies of dazzling light washed over them chasing away the cloak of burning blackness. Denise was gone, but in her place stood a massive women, crowned with a great pair of twisted horns that reached up to the ceiling. Strange glowing artifacts of nameless power glowed and dangled from her hair and neck, garbed in a long coat of white light - she towered over them, standing some 8ft tall. A surge of the living lights which danced in the air crashed into her hand, forming into a titanic Tian blade measuring over a dozen feet long. The great specter of L'As'Maral howled in un-explainable fury, but swiftly turned, gathering itself like a crashing wave of water to flee back the way it had come. "Oh, poor L'As'Maral - I know it's unfair to disrupt your work, but perhaps if you killed them in a more entertaining manner, I'd let you live. No matter..." She slashed out with her gargantuan blade, its steel formed of violet light. The weapon crashed into the wraith causing it to explode outwards then violently implode into the weapon's blade, sealing it within - snapping it into its scabbard. "Farewell forever..." The semi-transparent image of the strange Fey God vanished in an rupturing blast of purple butterflies, yet her voice could still be heard as half of the wounded Pathfinder's staggered, crashing into the wall as their vision begun to fade - burned away by the caustic vapors of the vanquished creature. "Don't disappoint me you ungrateful wretches. I've no intention of saving you again - Indeed, you'd best ready yourselves quickly... More fodder approaches." The sounds of crashing steps could be heard off, far in the distance from the black halls down where the great beast had turned to flee. Many footsteps, and lumbering strides of perhaps a near dozen people. But burned, blinded and coughing up blood from a burned throat left them in a poor state... Efrance rolled on the ground in pain as he ripped the canteen from his bag and flushed out his eyes with water. "... Wash out your eyes with water if you can and ready yourself. The enemy approaches!"



Prison Without Walls [Dimensional] [Ascendant]

School conjuration (dimensional); Level magus 7,
sorcerer/wizard 7, witch 7
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components S, M (a 5-ft. length of silk rope)
Range close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)
Target one creature or object
Duration Permanent
Saving Throw none; SR yes (object)

Mythic: As 'Prison Without Walls' however SR of creatures is negated. Additionally Escape Artist and Strength DCs are doubled.
Augmented (9th): You can expend two uses of mythic power to deny non-mythic creatures the ability to free themselves via dimensional travel



The Eldest: Amarillis'ai'loki
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Enemy/danu_zpsaxo1mdp7.jpg







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


Round 6 Begins

Players have Round 6 to recover; Using water to washout your eyes immediately ends the blinded effect. Enemies arrive Round 7

Khellan - HP: 7/12 (Blinded)
Mirri- HP: 10/14 (Blinded)
Mili - HP: 7/12 (Blinded)
Aisolyn - HP: 5/11 (Blinded)
Fa'uka - HP: 3/16 (Ascended Damnation)
Renka - HP: 4/9

(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16 / N18
Khellan Number 2 / M18
Mirri Cat / L18
Mili Rat / O18
Fa'uka ------- / ---
Renka Number 7 / O18

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
E'France Dalmon / G17

Enemies


Slain Enemies
Blood Splatters

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture9_zpszsky12jh.jpg

[Phasm]

"Owowowowow!" Mirri scrubs frantically at her burning eyes with her free hand, clutching her sword with her right in some vain hope of going down fighting. But then... she can't see what happened, but it sounds like Amarillis drove off this latest cosmic horror! "Thank you, Lady Amarillis!", she croaks as she desperately rummages through her pack. (One should always be polite to powerful people.) Aha! Waterskin! Mirri pulls it out and starts squirting water into her eyes. It hurts, but she's heard enough Pathfinder stories about noxious gases to know that this is what you do when something is in your eyes that shouldn't be there.


Retrieve waterskin and wash eyes.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka lets out another hiss as her eyes and throat burn, but luckily she's able to avoid being blinded. "This just isn't my day. My friends burn me, my enemies burn me... If you don't mind, I'm going to get up high, I have an idea that may work as long as they don't have that blood too..." With those words, the cat-like woman began to make her way up the wall.

Another climb, taking 10 for 19, double move to get up higher, if possible.

[Khosan]

For a few fleeting moments, Mili was a flurry of flailing limbs, a fit induced by another failure to find any answers, the creation of yet more questions and finally the arrival of a big black thing which would've killed them all in another couple seconds. Her tail snaked its way into her backpack and retrieved her waterskin while her hands were preoccupied frantically pulling at the edges of her mask. Then, it came off.

Mili wore her mask for a number of reasons and a few of those reasons became very obvious once it slipped off. Underneath the mask was a grizzly sight, almost completely hairless, her flesh looked as if it had simply melted off the bone in some spots if there was any flesh there at all. Mili's hands shook as she took the water from her tail and poured it over her face, taking a few shuddering, ragged breaths before putting the mask back on. The second the mask touches her face, she straightens right back up and clears her throat, "Well then. That was something." She casually reaches into her backpack and pulls out her wand, "Probably going to need this."

Swift Action: Retrieve waterskin from pack
Move Action: Wash face
Move Action: Retrieve Wand of Cure Light Wounds from pack

[ArtichokeDip]

We're just playthings in here, thought Aisolyn as she rubbed at her burning eyes. Blinking away the tears, her vision was slowly improving, so she focused her energy into her ring and Cured herself as she stumbled towards the bar. Another foe like that and none of us will be left.

"If you have some master plan Dalmon, now would be a good time for it!"

[flat_footed]

Khellan's eyes bugged as the deadly miasma flowed through the room. With the first sting of it taking his sight, he opened his mouth to scream. His cry was cut short as the poison entered his mouth, choking him. A strangled gasp forces its way through the room and a small downpour appears above Khellan. He turns his face upwards and blinks rapidly in the cleansing shower.

As he shakes the last of the water from his face, he hears the thunder of footsteps and Dalmon's cry. Stumbling forward, Khellan fumbles over the ruined floor towards the bar. "We need to take cover! We're outnumbered." Khellan yanks the bow off of his back and notches an arrow clumsily as his eyesight returns to him fully. With a wistful look upwards, he can't help but wish Fa'uka was still among them... but she was gone. Maybe forever.

Khellan casts Create Water centered above himself. He then moves to M14 while drawing his bow.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Reception Chamber

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 6

Round 6:
Efrance tossed the waterskin aside as he feverishly rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, "...If only we didn't come this way." Reaching up with an unsteady hand he pulled himself up weighing himself on the side of the large reception desk to smash the pommel of his sabre into the revealed section of the wall- again, and again, until finally cracking a stone of clay. He reached inside and pulled a rod attached to a thick rope, producing a strange pattern of glowing sigils on the stone below his feat. "...Aye, this would be the 'grand plan' - though admittedly, this is much different then before." The floor beneath them begun to quake and quiver, shaking the tiles and shattered adornments from the walls broken by the most recent terror. He looked up, glaring down the hall - "Oh, no..." He grabbed Mirri and moved her over to take his place where he had been, alarm raising in his voice. " Match the symbols, I don't know the combination. Hurry!" He tumbled over the counter, to stand before the doorway - raising his sabre in a defensive posture. The shaking of the ground underfoot became a thundering quake that rattled the broken glass and stone to shift and dance underfoot. " Gods, be good... Listen!" He didn't turn away from the doorway, as a strange sea of glowing dots filled the strange miasma filled corridor which he stood before - he spun his sabre in hand deftly. "...Assuming nothing has changed, once you open the path forward, you'll find the door to the cellar beneath the counter. It's been flooded, sense the quake in the catacombs - I haven't had the opportunity to investigate the cause of that however. It's likely unrelated to The Witches. The sewers flooded into the city sluice-system and into the chambers connecting below. There's a path with a door, marked by strange symbols; take it and you'll find your way into The Emerald Caves- about two miles past The Bloodtear Club . Don't go back, push forward. You'll find The Verdant Grove - haven't made it that far yet. Doesn't look like I will - If we meet again.... tell that damned cat not to take this hall again." - Without warning a horde of screaming bloated horrors flooded into the chamber. Gnashing row upon row of gnarled teeth and thrashing limbs tipped with bony, cruelly edged appendages - they glowed in the darkness. Their semi-closed pulsing chest cavities held some strange golden light encased by a twisted cage of ribs. The Hero of Brevoy exploded into motion, striking as if absent-mindedly, lunging out with a 10ft step and sharply returning as with a series of blinding thrusts. The first five of the creatures exploded, their chests rupturing open to spray outward in a 5ft blast radius of liquid-flame. The plasma-like goo on the swordsmen's blade hissed, but seemed not to damage the exceptional sword. The walls instantly liquefied from contact of the brightly glowing blight - Efrance cursed under his breath. "....Empyreal Ghats." The wave of monstrous glowing dead tumbled through the pool of plasmatic-gel stepping within the sword-range of the swordsmen again. With a sharp dash, he leapt up into the air, thrusting and kicking off into one of the creatures before unleashing a devastating and crisply executed series of blindingly swift cuts and thrusts kicking off the last of his prey to tumble off to the side - not missing a single opportunity to punish the mindless creatures and claiming every chance to claim an opportunity to attack. The pool of glowing mucus like filth begun to bow, then spill through the floor as it melted through the ground and the space separating himself from the doorway which the creatures had been spilling from. He flicked the radiating blood from his sword as the creatures where brought to a dead halt by the cavernous expanse trapping them within their hall. "....Hah! Looks like I was worried about no-"

A super-massive lithe black arm burst through the hole within the floor crashing into the ceiling and thrashing about the room. The massive limb was 15ft wide and 70ft long at the elbow - as if belonging to some furious colossal demon. The massive four-clawed hand exploded through the ceiling, whipped through the room, splattering the strange glowing creatures and landing in the middle of the room clawing out the ground, and a large section of the reception counter with a single greedy fist - Efrance vanished within the creature's crushing palm as it violently vanished back into the abyss below. "Oh my, that was quite the twist - So close to the finish, but how will the lambs fare without the shepherd? - I suppose I should commend you for having even survived this long... Quite the accomplishment. Ah - I know, I shall furnish you with a gift to commemorate your limited success... With an interesting fact."

" Our large-angry black friend beneath: The Tal'Dhaka, is a rather powerful pet of that wretched child who calls herself The Dusk Queen. Perhaps if you survive, you may want to inquire of it to your long lost friend? Does that give you a reason to press on? I hope so, I can't have you all die so uneventfully. Can I?" A familiar and haunting laughter filled the chamber as the group gathered themselves from the obliterating force that was this new and strange entity known as The Tal'Dhaka.

The crushing arm smashes into the ceiling, crashes with tremendous force into the walls and sweeps through the entierty of the chamber, clearing out all of the creatures, stealing near a fourth of the room in its clenched fist and taking Efrance with it. The violent attack has left the room nothing short of completely destroyed - and you were in it!

Reflex Save to evade the wild thrashing destruction of the arm: On failure, knocked prone, 1d4 bludgeoning & damage 30% Chance Dazed for 1d3 Rounds.

The untold destruction and crashing throughout the chamber threatens to not only strike you, but knock you free from the quickly obliterated infrastructure of the chamber!
Maintaining Hold (Climb Check DC21): Regardless of Reflex Save results, make a Climb Check. If passed negate prone status of failed Reflex Save - Damage and Dazed % apply normally. On failure, you are knocked to the ground (fall damage applies normally).




As a full-round action one player can make an Int Check to solve the sigil puzzle to open the entrance to the cellar below. Another player may Aid Another to increase the bonus by +2 as a full round action.

Additionally: A player not engaged trying to solve the puzzle may take a full round action to study the sigils and gain a cumulative +2 Bonus per round spent studying the sigils.




Round 7 Begins

[ArtichokeDip]

Her eyes still watering, Aisolyn did not seeing the monstrous arm erupt from the ground and was caught unaware by its rampage through the room. Slammed back against a wall, her head stuck hard, sending light and searing pain through it.

No, she thought, I need to move. I need to get us out of here.

She willed herself to move, but could feel little more than twitching in her limbs as the flashing whirlwind of agony engulfed her mind.

[Khosan]

Mili focused intently on what E'France had to say. It was the most she'd gotten out of anyone with any idea of what was going on and she didn't want to miss anything. She was about to ask him a few more questions, but then a giant arm crashed through the building, taking the one good lead she had with it.

Flat on her ass, Mili couldn't help but feel as if she was missing something very important (aside from Dalmon himself, that is). He knew what was coming, what to expect, where to go and used some particularly perplexing vocabulary. The implication that there would be a 'next time' was the most...I'm not even sure how to interpret that.

For what must be at least the third time in about ten minutes, Mili pushes herself back to her feet. Wand in hand, she waves it through the air a few times in a clearly unpracticed manner. The wand fizzles. If the others could still see Mili's face, she'd be scowling. "Screw it. Someone else handle this, I've got puzzles to solve," she glances towards the sigil puzzle and holds out the wand for someone else to take.

Move Action: Mili gets up from prone
Standard Action: Mili attempts to use her Wand of Cure Light Wounds on herself. [roll0]

[flat_footed]

Khellan lowered his bow, amazed at the fury and grace with which Dalmon moved. As soon as it looked like the group had a fleeting grip on the situation, a massive limb erupted through the floor. Khellan could only gape, appalled, at this new threat. Dazed by the sheer magnitude of the forces they faced, Khellan barely sees the arm thrashing his way before it collides with him. That instant of reaction spared him from the most harm, though he was still thrown violently against the wall.

Catching his breath, Khellan stands painfully, still holding his bow somehow. As he looks around him, he sees several crumpled forms. "Are any of you still able to fight??" Dalmon was no longer with them to save them anymore. If they were to fend off anything else, it would take all of them together.

As his eyes circled around, Khellan caught the glow of the sigil in the corner of his eye. He studies it for a while, momentarily transfixed by the arcane sign. Shaking his head, he frees his mind and looks to the first person that stands. "I hope these strange signs make more sense to you than they did to me."

Khellan tries to solve the puzzle and fails.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka deftly manages to avoid being touched by the colossal limb through her instincts and good reaction time. Hearing Khellan's question, Renka drops her way down, her plan of dropping a chandelier no longer seeming like a good one. "I can still fight, as long nobody puts me in that 'healing' light again... Why does this room have to be so well lit?" With a sigh, her clawed hands twitch in anticipation of the next group of foes to come through. Now that the group was alone, she'd have to actually fight.

[Phasm]

Mirri leaps aside as the fist slams down, maintaining the agile reputation of felids everywhere. "Oh no, Efrance!" She swallows hard and moves between her fallen comrades and the door. Briefly she considers the remaining potion in her belt pouch, then dismisses the thought. Odds are good she's going to need it later, her wounds right now aren't bad enough to keep her from fighting. "I'll try to give you time, but brainy people, now would be a really good time to be even smarter than usual!"


Woo, made the Reflex save! Standing guard for the members of the group who have a positive Int modifier. :P

[Mornings]

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg


The darkness was stifling. At first it was simple ignorance - a humbly mundane thought. This was the darkness of blinded eyes and stinking miasma. It was not. No. After a short while, they had noticed - the pain had abated. Indeed. They could feel nothing. No suffering. No pulse. Not even the solid familiarity of cold and unforgiving stone. This was not blindness - this was something strange and unfamiliar. Something frighting.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg
http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg


The strange and alien dance of the white of formless light, and the twitching embrace of darkness divided. There was something they had missed. Once again they had failed to see. Perhaps they had died? Perhaps they were free... But this was not the world they knew. The speeding fall and the view of the nothingness that stretched out towards infinite periphery. As if looking out some strange window of a train - all its cars are filled with steel. They would stop if they knew how, but with so much steam and steel behind them - they couldn't slow it down at all.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Degenesis%20Rebirth/Opening/The%20Light%20Extinguished/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsaoxcaagz.jpg


This was not the darkness. This was not the simple absence of light. This was not light - this was not some luminescent-heavenly radiance to banish a passing shade. No. They were one and the same. Somewhere. Someplace... else. The curtain of some nameless world-between time had forgotten. But a thought came to them each - they had not time to waste in this maddening place. This silent tomb. They had to save Serra.

They reached out with strained hands - out through the viciously speeding fabrics of black and white entwined and parted the curtain.

There was only stars...

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/2%20new_zpsgtsdfgjb.jpg

"Nau, that was quite unnecessary. Surly such a small nuisance did not justify calling upon Tal'Dhaka."

"It seemed perfectly acceptable after this last intrusion... I would have won this wager had she not cut down poor L'As'Maral. That was quite the barbaric maneuver - and I do so tire of Danua's little toys. Her puppets have perpetuated this farce long enough."

"Oh, please. You've never been found of L'As'Maral. You just sought the slightest opportunity to do away with that foolish man. You've always been such a petty child."

"An excuse to murder that mortal-filth? I don't require such a thing, but surely if I did, your intervening directly provides just that. A clear violation of our terms."

"My, my. A violation of terms? Not at all. Clearly you missunderstand, I am simply a mediator, a spectator, an inquisitive eye... as it were. Your agreement is with him. Isn't that correct, Valper?"

"Well, she is correct. This charade is strictly a matter between ourselves - Danua has simply provided the ground with which to field it."

"I see.... Perhaps I may have acted out of turn... Next time I will murder him immediately as to not raise suspicions as to my intentions."

"Yes, yes. Please refrain from such unbecoming behavior."

"Regardless, this wager was over before it begun. Admit your defeat. I know not how you even intended to convey the name of the tome to your mortal-lap dogs. Even with Danua's distortion within the Material Plane its name cannot be spoken by any within the plane, or even yourself."

"Hm. Yes. Your points are valid - but I'm afraid this wager was in-fact all but won before the beginning, as I have admittedly played this game quite deceptively. After all, do you even know the name of the tome? I myself have never spoken its name even in life."

"What nonsense are you babbling about? You've the guile of a mortal, and less intelligence. Of course I know the damned books name?"

"Oh? ...She's bluffing.."

"No, no. I'm sure she's confident in whatever name she knows."

"That's not saying much kiddo.... There really is only one way to find out."

"...Hm. Well I suppose if you really do know it Nau, I will have to seriously consider withdrawing from this venture."

"...Fine. If you'll admit your defeat and be done with it. It is 'The Perdition of a Maledictive Eternity'. Now admit your resignation."

"...My she is short of wit. This is why I enjoy eating children."

"...Ah. Very good. Unfortunately - I've won this round. I expect you to uphold your end of the agreement and not intervene during the next........"







Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Reception Chamber

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 7

Round 7:
The strange argument between the shapeless figures within the near-eternal vastness of sparkling stars died away. But they had heard it - all of it. They had gone somewhere.... somewhere not where they had been. Some realm far away. Some entity had intended for them to hear what they had heard - intended for them to be at that place, during that time. Some god perhaps... but the strange woman who had slain L'As'Maral spoke in that place as well... Nothing made sense. What was the point!? Was this all some sick joke!? Some divine comedy as they danced for some bored god's amusement!? No... No. Something was happening here. They were caught between some ancient struggle between forces too powerful to even wadge war upon one another any longer. There was far more at play here then they could fathom, and somehow at its center sat Caliphas...

This was not the same theater hall they had left...
The once melted floor no longer dripped down into some eternal chasm reaching out into the void. The walls were not sundered, the ground was not broken and shattered. But the blood remained - as almost identical to the chamber as they had initially entered it - expect perhaps slightly cleaner? But only four things mattered right now...

One. The sigils still sat behind the large counter in plain view.

Two. Fa'uka came storming back into the room dripping slick with some thick green ectoplasmic mucus as if spat out by some phantasm.

Three. The hall the wolf had returned from vomited forth a horde of horrid lashing half-melted corpses. Pathfinders. Led by a large, dead man with a massive axe, with a cutting head the size of a portly halfling.

Four. In the massive blood splattered corpse's right hand he dragged the broken body of of Denise Bridgeman. Her small hands still valiantly clutched unto her wooden staff - her eyes closed, forever.

"...Oh my. Is this the main event? Do not disappoint me - If you must die. Die well."



Denise Bridgeman (Deceased)

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/sample-62e822514d07f36272e322ac2b42f22f%20-%20Copy_zpsii7vspye.jpg








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


Round 6 Begins

Players have Round 6 to recover; Using water to washout your eyes immediately ends the blinded effect. Enemies arrive Round 7

Khellan - HP: 5/12
Mirri- HP: 10/14
Mili - HP: 7/12
Aisolyn - HP: 1/11 (Critical HP)
Fa'uka - HP: 3/16
Renka - HP: 4/9

(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16 / G15
Khellan Number 2 / K14
Mirri Cat / K13
Mili Rat / H16
Fa'uka Wolf / H13
Renka Number 7 / G14

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
E'France Dalmon / G17

Enemies


Slain Enemies
Blood Splatters

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture10_zpsbpqado8i.jpg

[flat_footed]

"Fa'uka!" Khellan cried, barely taking notice at the arrival of more enemies. His companion had returned. With a sharp whistle, Khellan called Fa'uka over to him, stepping deeper into the office area. Now that they were together again, escape was the only thing on Khellan's mind. "Pull back into the office! We can try to hold them off from there. Don't get surrounded!"

It felt good to see an enemy their size once again. Khellan fit a specialized arrow into his bow and loosed it with an oath. "I can't make any sense of these sigils. I hope one of you can; our lives may depend on it."

Khellan and Fa'uka move to M14. Khellan looses an arrow at the closest enemy he has a line of sight at over the counter.

[ArtichokeDip]

Thought Aisolyn's consciousness was still a blur, it was lessening gradually. If only we can survive these next few moments, she thought.

[Khosan]

Mili's eyes dart back and forth. It had been one thing after another for the past few minutes and reality was still finding ways to surprise her. At least the vision offered some explanation if it was to be believed. They were being toyed with for the purposes of some bet between two...what may as well be gods compared to the little rat and her friends. She shakes her head, there were other things to tend to.

"Khellan!" she shouts a little louder than she intended, flinching at her own volume, "Healing wand!" She stuffs her wand into Khellan's belt and makes her way towards the sigil puzzle. "Warn me if I'm in trouble. This might take some time."

Move Action: Mili moves down to O14
Move Action: Mili gives her Wand of Cure Light Wounds to Khellan as she passes

[Phasm]

"Come on, Aisolyn!" Mirri hauls the child-sized mage up and flips her over an armored shoulder in a fireman's carry. Steadying Aisolyn with one hand and keeping her sword at the ready with the other, she hurries into the hall and deposits the wounded mage behind Khellan and Fa'uka. (Yay! Fa'uka's back! One thing that's gone right today.) "Khellan, you got any healing spells left? She looks bad."


Grab Aisolyn and move her to N14.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka's tail twitches as she waits. On the outside, she seems calm, but inside she's a bit excited as she waits for her foes to approach. She smiles a little as she prepares to strike the first foe that gets close enough.

Readied Full Attack triggered by an enemy entering her reach. Two kicks and two claws as secondary.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Reception Chamber

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 8

Round 7 Resolved:
The strange undead howled in blood-thirsty glee. The tall axe-wielding corpse beat its chest with its weapon while crying out with a gargled shout. These undead were not the same - far different from the last they had encountered, they weirdly twitched and jerked sharply with spasm-like reflexes and fleshless jaws which sharply closed and opened with dull toothly clanks, as if hungry. A tense silence filled the room - then Khellan called out, rallying the group to pull back into the defensive alcove as he dived away while loosing an arrow at the nearest creature. The missile sharply cut across the air nailing a creature directly in its brow - only to snap in half and fall to the ground uselessly. These creatures were not vulnerable to his arrows, much like the last monsters they had faced.... They were in trouble.

The filth-covered zombie raised his axe into the air, then paused. A deep and unnatural rumbling chuckle escaped the undead-creature's rotting lips. This was no mindless creature. IT brought the axe crashing down - the wall of corpses cried out with insane thrashing cries as they madly sprinted forward with twisted faces and disturbing speed. Without a second thought the group of Pathfinders quickly followed suite with Khellan, Mirri grabbed the wounded Aisolyn and dragged her into the defensive cell as she moved - but Renka stayed behind...

The corpses crashed into the large desk's counter clawing wildly at the wood with their bloodied-lacerated hands desperately before flooding forward like a wall at the white-cat who had stayed. The mob came upon her with wild abandon, as if in frenzy. She slashed out with her claws, catching one creature in the face and throwing it to the ground - a sharp kick throwing back another. One creature leapt upon her and bit her in the neck, beginning to thrash its head wildly before ripping off a mouthful of fur and flesh. She grabed the creature, shoulder-tossing it off and into the mass of bodies, then sharply crushed the monster's skull with a crushing foot to its face to splatter its brains upon the floor. Then from her side, a creature barreled into her, slamming her into the wall. Another creature, leaping upon her and ripping away skin and tendon from her arm with its teeth. The creatures rained down agony with slashing hands and teeth feasting upon her body. There was only pain, motion, then... nothing.

The parade of corpses flooded to the entrance of the the large cubical-like reception. The group looked on in horror as Renka was overrun by the corpses and stormed into their defensive position. Without even a pause, one of the aboninations came flying at Khellan with a wild leap crashing into him and biting, ripping and thrashing at him until it beat him into submission - taking a large bite out of his shoulder and ripping away the chunk of gory flesh to consume. His face was slashed and bleeding, his vision fading into the disorienting nexus of death. He coughed blood as his broken ribs pressed in upon his lungs as he was thrown viciously into the desk. Yet he managed to keep his footing, having been thrown unto its wooden surface - his lower extremities still touching the floor. He knew all too well - Another attack such as that and he'd be dead. They were pinned with their backs against the wall and an enemy marching in upon them to crush them into dust. Were they going to die here?







Round 8 Begins

Khellan - HP: 0/12 (Critical HP)
Mirri- HP: 10/14
Mili - HP: 7/12
Aisolyn - HP: 4/11
Fa'uka - HP: 3/16
Renka - HP: -1/9 (DOWN!) :Dying/Unstable

(BATTLE-MAP KEY)
Grey Area's: Obscured / Fog of War
Aisolyn Number 16 / N15
Khellan Number 2 / M14
Mirri Cat / N14
Mili Rat / O14
Fa'uka Wolf / M15
Renka Number 7 / G14

Map Icons
Crossbones = Blight/Status
Green Dot = Good Health / Status
Red Dot = Wounded / Poor Health
Red Bar = Health
Chain-Heart = Critical HP
Arrowed-Man = Down & Dying
RED ZONE = Black-Blood Pool

NPCs
E'France Dalmon / G17

Enemies


Slain Enemies
Blood Splatters


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture11_zpsm7htejv1.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

The sounds of the battle around her begin to filter into Aisolyn's ears as her head starts to clear, the pain not quite as blinding as before.

We're fighting... something? she thinks. They need me!

Feeling the urgency, she tries to move her limbs and feels... something! I need... to make.. myself stand...

She grits her teeth as she valiantly, but futilely, tries to rise.

Last round of Dazed!

[Phasm]

"Khellan!" Mirri springs forward, teeth bared and sword in hand, to stand over her wounded comrade. "Come on, Fa'uka, let's kill some zombies! RAAAAAAGH!" It's going to take time for Mili to solve the puzzle, time for Aisolyn to wake up and heal herself and Khellan... she dares not think about Renka. The catfolk releases the tight control she keeps on her battle lust, surrenders herself to the ecstasy of combat. Her roar of defiance turns into a wild laugh as she swings at the zombie that hurt her comrade.


Move to M14, standing over prone Khellan, and RAGE! Rage against the dying of the light! +2 temporary HP.

Attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1]

Note that her sword is magical, if that makes a difference here.

[Khosan]

Mili's ears twitch in response to Mirri's exclamation and subsequent battle cry, but she keeps her eyes focused forwards towards the puzzle. Back at her old job, if she wasn't actively looking into something, odds were she'd be sitting in her 'office' fiddling away at a puzzle book. It was a good way to keep her mind active and sharp, and she was very much hoping the 'skills' she'd honed then would pay off now.

Full Round Action: Mili attempts to solve the sigil puzzle, [roll0]

[flat_footed]

A blood chilling shriek came from Khellan as his body was assaulted. Blood flowed over his lips as the undead creature tore into him with its own wild cries. Barely keeping his balance, Khellan's mind forces his legs into action. He lost a part of himself in a bestial will to live at any cost. "Keep them away from me!!" came the faltering cry as Khellan stumbled backwards through his friends, stopping only when his back hits the wall.

The sharp jarring causes Khellan's eyes to focus on the group in front of him and Fa'uka. Her wounds still fresh, and covered in an unholy slime. They still need me to help.. but I'm no use in a fight like this. A sharp cough wracks Khellan as he spits out a glob of blood. A small smile shows as he clasps the sign of Ketephys to his breast. "Be healed."

As Khellan retreats, Fa'uka tenses to pounce on the thing that attacked him. Before she can lunge forward, Mirri darts in and destroys the creature. Unwilling to run forward into the midst of those things, Fa'uka bares her fangs and holds her ground.

Khellan to P14 and casts his final Channel, healing all living creatures. Fa'uka stays where she is and will attack anyone that comes within reach.
[roll0]

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The HavenGuard Offensive: ...Old Friends

Neth the 3rd, Oathday - 11:32 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
District of North Cushing; Coast Road - Inside Haraday Theater, Nachthall Reception Chamber

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

The creatures swarmed upon them, their cumbersome bodies smashed into the walls and service desk rattling the walls. Fa'uka sprung out crashing into one of the creatures taking it to the ground as Mirri charged through. Her mighty blade cleaving a creature in twaine as she placed a boot into the fallen monstrosity's face with a resounding wet snap as bone gave way and the risen corpse thrashed about wildly. Still they came - the dead who had felled Renka hungrily flooded into the small inpasse where Mirri made her stand, bits of bloodied fur and meat still caught in jagged teeth. The first came upon her, lashing out wildly with clawed hands, she grasped the grotesque creature, her hand snapping out to crush a wrist and cleave off an arm - a lashing claw raked her leg bloody as it fell and another took its place... Khellan shoved his way through past his allies, his back slamming into the wall, as his vision begun to tunnel, the terrible gory-pits spewed out a deep, near black blood in violent sprays... his skin was pale and sickly. It wasn't supposed to end like this... He released the last votive of divine light within himself restitching flesh and sinew, though the pain did not lessen. From only a short expanse, he could see the massive undead juggernaut wildly slash about with his mighty axe, the blade cleaved into the wood and stone of the walls, flood and desk... a bellowing laugh rolled over them as if to hasten his advance foretelling of the violence he would visit upon them, and their agonizing death. He howled, pressing in from the middle of his minions... like a man being dragged to the executioner's block, they struggled and squirmed, fighting each step futilely. Now they struggled just to keep the enemy at bay - A screaming shrill cry roiled out from the mob of rotting marauders. It was Denise's scream - but that wasn't possible! The wall of bodies pressed ever closer... Mirri's blade hacked into the bastion of bone and leathery skin, until a small hand from below scratched her skin. Though the wound was, superficial as if left by a cat's claw. Her body spasmed and writhed in vicious and violent muscular contractions, she couldn't move... the corpses sprung out with gaping mouths to devour her flesh.

Mili's fingers moved rapidly, rearranging the sigils in perhaps a hundred-hundred orientations before a pattern finally emerged within the figures. She finally realized, the strange figures were not sigils at all - while surrounded by arcane marks, the strange tiles themselves were letters... A few she had seen before. Azlanti!? There were so few would could still fluently understand the language... and with the exception of Chelish High Opera, it had completely fallen from common use, a dead language. Thinking.. reflecting upon the strange vision they had experiences, she shuffled the letters about, trying to make them mean something, something... familiar. CLICK. The arcane energy suddenly exploded outward washing over them - there was only white emptiness. A voice spoke out from the sudden boundless silence.


"...Well done. Fluke or not, you did not disappoint. But how you will fair next time?"


CHARACTERS HAVE ADVANCED TO LEVEL 2







Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 9:58 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The Scumm Bar... They had come here for only a brief moment with Cal'vel and Efrance when the swordmaster had first arrived in the city over half a month ago. It was all blurry, disorienting. Had it all been a dream? Two men fought in the corner, wrestling and slugging each other with heavy fists crashing into a table. The bar was considerably populated, the calendar above the bar was covered in grime, but it said it was Lamashan... A cold chill ran crept through their minds - it truly was a month ago. With a short dazed self inspection, it was affirmed this was no dream. The damage and grime to their cloths was more then real, it was repulsive. The stink of black blood and its congealing remains were still soaked into their garments. It was as if they had fallen asleep at the large table booth - they drew more then a few strange glances from the other patrons. The blood, and wounds were still fresh - there were even some they did not recognize. What had happened to them? The steel of their weapons still steamed with the warmth of flesh and was slick with putrid gore, as if they had clawed their way out of the raging cesspool of death from their very seats... as if the horrid Haraday Theater lurked just under the patchwork pillows they sat. Though most of them were left face down on the table, groaning, they begun to come back to rouse from their weary rest.

The bar-maid wouldn't come close to the table, if not for the stench - for the bare steel and gore-slick appearance of the battle soiled Pathfinders.


You have returned from the battle, but displaced in time - a month ago. All characters Hit Points have not been healed. Characters below 0 Hit Points are now at 0 Hit Points and stable. All used abilities/spells etc. have not been recovered.

[ArtichokeDip]

A little nervously, Aisolyn began, "So if I'm not crazy, and everything did happen that we remember, we're now in the past."

"But if it is the past, and we have our memories and experiences and," she said spilling the Masterwork Satchel full of items out onto the table, "whatever we take with us, then where we were isn't really the future now either. We know things that could happen, not that will happen. We can do something. We can change it."

"I think we need to figure our exactly what did happen first, and what the people in the now know about it."

"Gahh," she said, rubbing her temples, "it makes my head hurt to think about it."

Here is the grab bag of items from the satchel that we didn't have time to sort through earlier. Take what you can use, and I'll ID the potions.

3 Twitch Tonic
2 Antitoxin
2 Antiplague
1 Soothe Syrup
2 Bloodblock
1 Smelling Salts
1 Troll Styptic
1 Potion, Cure Light Wounds
1 Potion, Unidentified
1 Potion, Unidentified

[Phasm]

"What? What in the nine hells is going on here?!" At the last minute, Mirri remembers not to shout. Indoor voice, Mirri, indoor voice! "I thought that only happened in bad Pathfinder novels!" Pause. "Not that I, um, read those or anything." She casts about for a distraction; fortunately, there are two of them bleeding on the floor. "Renka! Oh no, we're not supposed to use regular healing magic on her, are we... Mili, Aisolyn, what do we do?"

Khellan is also hurt, but he at least looks conscious. Healing potions should help him and Fa'uka. We found some of those in that satchel, right? Right. Mirri only has one healing potion left, and if life as an adventurer has taught her anything, it's that you save your last healing potion for when somebody is bleeding out on the floor. If they're conscious, they probably don't need it. (Beings who are hurt by positive magic are an exception, obviously.) Right now, everybody needs three things. Possibly four, depending on individual preference.

The catfolk makes her way over to the bar, considerably slower than is usual for her. A battle frenzy always leaves Mirri exhausted. "Hi! Look, we're really sorry about the mess, we kind of got caught up in some crazy spell that zapped us here straight from a battle. We really, really need a healer. And food, and drink- like, really strong drink in my case, I so do not want to remember some of the stuff I saw- and a bath would all be wonderful right now. Do you know where I can find a healer? We should probably take care of my friend first, then we can get the zombie goo out of our fur. Hair. Whatever. I have gold!" Not all that much, but hopefully when they all pool their cash it should be enough to pay for the necessities, with a little extra as an apology to the inn for getting blood and zombie goo on the floors.

[Khosan]

"Let's just..." Mili glances from side to side and under the table, half expecting a zombie to jump out of somewhere. "I have no idea," she fidgets in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with that sentence. "I think we just need to talk it out amongst ourselves first."

Once Mirri runs off, Mili pulls herself to the edge of the booth after her feline friend to offer a bit of advice, "Some wine and a cheese platter should do the trick!" A good bath was also high on her priority list, but that wasn't exactly a communal activity. Some food would help them settle down.

Crawling back to her seat, she plops herself back down and drops her chin down on to the table like an exhausted child. "I feel like...before now, I had a decent grasp on what was going on. But this," She gestured to the bar around them, "Being here, now, is just...Beyond me. Entirely. We need to speak to Efrance. He seemed to have some idea of what was going on."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 9:58 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The bar-maid looked at Mirri, then down at her slick-dripping longsword. She curtly crossed her arms. "Ay' fur-ball, dun want na' troubles. Dunno whats wit' ya', don't much need knowin', but aint' 'er ta' pass ya' drinks. Da' Bravoy-boy ya' left wit' some hour' 'go said ya' be back. Can't say I beliv' 'im when he wa' goin' on 'bout it. Dun' like ya'. Dun want ya' in me bar - but da' boss got sum' bu'nis' wit' ya' lot. So git' in da' back an' take da' stairs." She pointed behind the counter to a small hall leading to a cellar. It was a dark rickety looking hall, poorly maintained, but the steps down seemed a great contrast to the old rotting wood, polished and dusted hardwood.

The old barman glanced over at the party, then back at Mirri. "Best do what ol' Breeza says - she's a salty cod with a bite meaner then 'er bark. If ya catch my meaning. Best not to bare ya' steel 'front of the boss either, least ya' meaning to loose an arm or more." No one was familiar in this place. In fact, last they came here, it had been nearly abandoned - save for Efrance. There were no lights, nor customers, nor barmen... it had been a condemned little shack of tinder-wood. Dalmon hadn't explained anything, only asked them to meet him in this run-down hovel... they'd come, and left, no closer to the truth behind his logic. Now perhaps they gleamed insight into why. There was more to be seen then they knew.

[ArtichokeDip]

With a disdainful look at the barmaid, Aisolyn scoops up the remaining items on the table. "If we're being told we're not welcome out front, then lets see what the owner in back can tell us."

"It would be best if we cleaned up a bit first, though. I can take care of that in the hallway where we have a little privacy."

Aisolyn will retrieve items and follow the group if they move.

If we have time in the back, she will use Cure Light Wounds (ring) to heal most of the party and Presdigitation to clean them.

[Mokou-tan]

The world was dark for Renka as she slowly came back to the land of the conscious. Hearing the words of the barmaid, the small, cat-like, girl slowly rises to her feet and does as instructed, heading for the back despite her injuries. "Shadow take you, demanding a dead girl walk without a drink..." She mutters under her breath as she passes, quite obviously in a bit of pain, even as she tries to be stoic about it in her movements.

[Khosan]

With a dejected sigh, Mili slides out of the booth and follows the others. Maybe the man downstairs will have something to help us calm down.

[flat_footed]

Khellan's head rises from the table as the words of his friends fight through the haze of his mind. Pain shoots through his body and his hand flies to his shoulder where the wound once lay. Fa'uka, coiled at his feet under the table was agitated; Khellan could feel her tensing uncertaintly and he laid a comforting hand on her head. If nothing else made sense, at least they were with allies and friends.
"Wait a moment, Renka."
Khellan slides out of his seat and takes a quick step after her. She took the brunt of the fight. If not for her sacrafice, the corpses may have overrun us before Mili caught the trick of the puzzle. Reaching her side, Khellan lays a hand on her shoulder and a quick spark of darkness flows from his hand into Renka. Noting the slight change in her ragged breathing, Khellan allows himself a small smile. Calling to Fa'uka, Khellan follows with the group down the stairway, sheathing his weapon as he goes.

Khellan casts ILW on Renka as he reaches her.

[ArtichokeDip]

When the group reaches the stairway down, Aisolyn gathers them together. "Hold on a second. We need to get everyone patched up and looking normal, despite what happened."

Going over each party member in turn (including Fa'uka), she lays her hands on them and pushes positive energy through her ring to heal their wounds. Afterwards, a pulse of energy from her mind sweeps the gore and slime from their clothing and bodies and warms them to a comfortable temperature.

"Sorry Renka, I can't heal you normally because of your... condition. Once we get out of here Khellan and I will do what we can."

Removed the more game-y description of casting Cure Light Wounds and Presdigitation.

Now everyone has clothes that look, feel, and smell like they just came out of the dryer.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:04 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The Pathfinders pushed past the cramped bar-counter into the dim hall. Bloodied and beaten, they sheathed their weapons and begun the slow process of patching up their wounds. The cold of death-flooded halls and the super-cold of the unnatural touch of black-blood was swept away, and once more they begun to feel themselves. Whatever they had experienced was beyond explanation - and now they were somewhere, someplace, caught beyond the time they knew. As if they had been sent to their past, but that past had been rewritten.

They walked down the fine hardwood steps. The stairwell was surprisingly long - unnaturally so. It turned on and on for nearly 5 minutes as if burrowing down into some dimensional pocket that lay beneath the old and beaten bar. At last, warmth and bright light flooded into the near-dark hall. It was unlike anything they could have expected... The massive war-room was filled with fine cocobolo-wooden tables and furnishings which gleamed sleekly under their high polish and lacquer. Swords, spears and an assortment of masterwork-fine weaponry sat mounted upon weapon racks all about the room. Fine boards covered with massive maps of the city, depictions of the city districts filled with fine stone carved figures upon a war-table painted the picture of a massive war being fought across the city. The vast spread of seats sat empty. It was a massive battle-floor lavished in Tian culture. It was no secret that the immensely wealthy and powerful Dr. Low controlled AshTown and the criminal empire in Caliphas under the guise of trade and education - teaching the lessons of his Tian culture, of which he was so proud. Only one organization could afford such a lavish estate.... The Seventh Eye.

Not much of a secret to those who lived in the city and knew its streets. The Seventh Eye was a large pagoda-shaped super structure within the city. Boasting a market, school, and bazaar for trading merchants. But for all its good - it was also the seat of power of Dr. Low. The feared and respected criminal kingpin of Caliphas's underworld empire. Organized crime and illegal trade were his forte, and dealing out punishment to those who broke the laws of the street was his policy. Dealing with a merciless hand, his was not some lawless band of brigands - but a highly sophisticated society. The arm of the law did not reach Dr. Low's empire known by the same name as his massive plaza. The criminals which served the organization answered to their own set of law, far stricter and more ruthless then those of the city. The guards and politicians turned a blind eye to those who would seek to flee the ire of The Seventh Eye - for there was no place within the city they could be safe. The dealings of Low's Empire were self regulated, controlled and carefully measured - the business never spilled into the street. The customers never knew the difference and thus did it exist in some strange intermingling symbiosis.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit2_zps2bs0f5fk.jpg

An expressionless voice spoke out to greet them in a tongue they could not understand. A woman stood inches away from Khellan's face where he had stopped to inspect the marvel of the room. He'd not seen the woman at all! Nor could he feel any trace of magic about her - it was as if she simply had always been where she stood, he'd no doubt have crashed into her had he taken another step. "Greetings.... We have been waiting for you. I am Song Eunsil" They didn't see anyone else, but they knew the name; Song Eunsil - The Seventh Eye's legendary boogyman. An assassin beyond fame, Song Eunsil was myth. Most didn't even believe he - or it, even existed. Some theories were that it was simply the name of The Seventh Eye's 'enforcers', a name referring to an entire organizational branch. In either case, it was a name that made the criminal scum of the city hide beneath their sheets at night.


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/songeunsil-cha-16%20-%20Copy_zpsxwqh9ka1.jpg

[Phasm]

Mirri gives Aisolyn a grateful look and a whispered thanks as she heals and cleans the group, sheathing her sword before following everyone down to the basement. Wouldn't do to look as if she wants a fight. Her yellow eyes are bright with interest as she looks around at the lavish Tian surroundings, lingering on the armor and weapons. But this time Mirri keeps her mouth shut. She's landed herself and her comrades in hot water more than once by saying what's on her mind.

[flat_footed]

As they near the stairs, Khellan waits patiently while Aisolyn cleans them up. Fa'uka especially perks up once the filth is completely removed from her fur. Heading down he stairs, Khellan grows more and more uneasy at the depths they are going to. He knew not to expect the same haphazard location that was above them, but this? It took a lot of time and effort to construct this place. I'm not liking the looks of this...

A faint glow appeared before them and suddenly, everything made sense. He didn't know much about them, but almost everyone had heard of the Seventh Eye. It was clear a lot of effort went into this place. This far removed from everything else at the surface. Are they that desperate for secrecy or are they hiding from someone?As his eyes swept the room, trying in vain to take it all in, he slowly leaned forward to take another step in. A woman's face dominated his vision as he almost goes headlong into her. As sharp growl of surprise from Fa'uka echos through the room as Khellan barely manages to catch his balance and not trip over Fa'uka. Words catch in his throat as he bites back his anger when she announces her title. Surprise lines his face as her eyes catch his, still inches from his face. He takes a long hard look at her before responding, carefully choosing his words. "Your name and reputation precede you, Song Eunsil, in myth if not in flesh." Khellan inclines his head slightly, careful not to break eye contact. "We hope to get things right this time around."

Khellan utters a quick growl to Fa'uka, who calmly slides down the rest of the stairs and enters the room.
Khellan is having Fa'uka Detect within the room, per the animal trick. Mornings, feel free to make secret rolls with her Perception skill (+12). She is detecting anything unusual.
The animal is trained to seek out the smells of explosives and poisons, unusual noises or echoes, air currents, and other common elements signifying potential dangers or secret passages.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:04 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The assassin curtly turned away from the elf and slowly made her way along the side of the room and circled toward the opposite end of the large table. Her voice betrayed no particular expression, steely and monotone as she absently adjusted pieces upon the table, upon a large map - depicting a diagram of the city. "The Young-Master will be here shortly..." She eyed them dangerously - like some well-trained carnivorous-beast trapped in a room full of fleshy morsels. "...I had hoped that man would have been within your company. That perhaps he might explain these incidents in detail, before the Young-Master arrives in person." She sharply placed a piece down on the table with a resounding clack, her eyes never leaving the group standing in the stairwell. "Please.... make yourselves at home, while you wait."

Fa'uka seemed to notice something, growling low at Khellan's side - as if noticing something or someone else within the room.

[Khosan]

Displays of wealth were something Mili'd come to be familiar with in her time as a detective. The wealthy had made up about a third of her clientele (and three quarters of her income), every single one of whom saw fit to invite the little masked rodent to their estates to discuss matters and impress upon her their own sense of self-importance. There was even an overly threatening body guard there to greet them in a clearly menacing way! Just like old times.

"Evening, Miss Eunsil," Mili casually strolls past and takes a seat at the table in the center of the room, "And don't mind if I do." The tension in the room was palpable. A known assassin staring you down had that effect. Rather than let the situation linger any longer than it needed to, Mili jumped at the opportunity to change the mood with a friendly request, "I don't suppose we could trouble you for some wine and a cheese platter?" She thought for a second, with a glance towards Mirri and Fa'uka, "And some dried meat, if available. We've had quite the eventful day and would greatly appreciate it."

[Mokou-tan]

"Thanks." Renka has a very slight smile as she softly thanks Khellan for mending her body. After sitting through Eunsil's display, the small lady hums a soft tune. In her line of work, dealing with guards and assassins was commonplace. In her mind the smartest move is not to make a move here. For her own amusement, though, she does remove and replace the magical sleeves on her arms, changing her clothing into a black and purple mimicry of Eunsil's outfit.

[flat_footed]

Khellan lays a hand gently on Fa'uka's head and allows her to guide him around the room surreptitiously. When they get to the area that caught Fa'uka's attention, Khellan looks a little closer.
Khellan inspects the area to see if he can divine what Fa'uka has sensed.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:04 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The assassin gestured at the room upon hearing Mili's request. The spears, the furnished walls, the war table. "As plainly evident, there are no such amenities available here." She made no gesture at seeming to notice Renka's change of appearance. Khellan begun following Fa'uka around, there was no trace of any passages no routes connecting to this chamber. Indeed, it was much more likely this place was isolated within some inter-dimensional pocket only accessible via magic. Yet, very occasionally, he could feel a slight shift in the air and pressure as if something had passed him closely. They seemed to find no standing origin for the occurrence, wandering close by the head of the table - swiftly Eunsil's hand shot out and grasp him by the shoulder stopping him in place. Fa'uka issued a growl as the sudden gesture. "Curiosity will be the death of you yet, elf." Perhaps she was right, after all they'd seen - for once having something not lurch out at them with massive hands, blades or tendrils might have been a good thing. But he knew for certain, something, or someone else was in this chamber.

A burst of pale grey light crashed into the room from a receded corner of the room. As if it was the beginning of a passage which led no where after 5ft of movement. A massive beast-of-a-man stood in place of the once empty space. He was covered in winding and colorful tattoos, his hair was a wild mane of brown hair which had the appearance of a long whimsical Mohawk. His eyes were like flint, hard and pitch black, his long beard hung down to his bulging chest. He wore a bandoleer but no shirt, and leathers around his waist which tied a lavish skirt of silk to his lower extremities. He easily stood seven and a half feet off the ground, baring a massive curved Da-Dao sword in one hand, with a blade the size of a young child, and another equally massive blade still sheathed on his rear. The air at his feet seemed to twist and cycle as if he stood at the center of a micro funnel cloud. He stepped forward, slamming his fist to his chest with a great thud in a wordless greeting. "...Feng, you've no business here. Leave."


Zhang Li Low

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/the%20burning%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy%20-%20Copy_zpsrydqyj9p.jpg


A second crash of pale grey light lit its way into the chamber. Followed by a young-man, appearing between the ages of 17 and 19. He was a stark contrast to the massive warrior who loomed over him. Dressed in grossly regal fineries and carelessly holding what was perhaps the most lavish sword any of them had seen over his shoulder like it was a stick. The pommel was silk and leather wrapped horicalcum, its hilt and scabbard ornamentation was gold and elysian bronze crested with siccitite and umbrite inlays of Tian symbols. The adamantine blade, leisurely quarter-drawn on his shoulder pulsated with an intense magical glow. "You see Song... That is where you are wrong. Feng, has a very good reason to be present." The assassin slammed down to a knee seeing the young boy. "Forgive me Master Zhang, we had not been expecting you." He scratched is head as if in thought, "Yes, I was getting that impression too - but meetings about me, without me present seem rather... unpleasant. So I decided to attend. Ah, you may rise." The assassin stood up once more, but seeming less thrilled by this development. "Master Zhang, if I may, where is your brother?" The boy waved the assassin aside as he sat at the head of the table, and put his feet up on the large surface, knocking over a few figures placed upon the maps. "Tangled up in some business with father. Who knows when that'll conclude. But no matter - I can get this little gathering started without him." He gestured lazily with one hand at the massive warrior, who moved over by his side. He then looked at his guests in the room. Seeming to scan each of the Pathfinder's individually. ".....Hm. I had been, expecting something... I don't know. More.... uh. Just.... more. Rather disappointing, truly." He visibly cringed in disgust looking at the cur-covered creatures before him. "Song..." - "Yes, Master Zhang." He crossed his arms impatiently. "...Have I not thoroughly expressed my particular displeasure with these rats, cats, and other disgusting creatures? " - "...You have Master Zhang, which is why we thought it best you did not-" - "Look! Look! Look at that one! Is that not the dress brother had gotten for you!? ...And that... RAT, is wearing it. I cannot ignore these insults." He lifted his hand, snapping his fingers. "Fang. Kill the fur-covered-abominations." The massive beast of a man beat his chest again silently as he took a threatening, lumbering step towards the party. "...Oh! Kill the dog too. I hate dogs." - "Master Zhang! Lord Azazael has ordered they be left unharmed!" - "Pay no mind - I'll let the normal ones live. We shouldn't need them all, correct?"

The massive man begun drawing his second massive blade as he stalked over to them with murder in his eyes. A shout roared out from behind the party. A familiar voice suddenly halting the imminent disaster. "HEY! HEY! HEY! WHAT IN THE HELLS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY KITTENS! ....and.. Rat" Dalmon Efrance stood on the last few steps of the large staircase, with his Estoc in hand, radiating its familiar sapphire hue. "I strongly recommend you put down the cleaver, cutie. You'll ruin that pretty face." Master Zhang bolted upright in his chair at the sight of the man. "Oh, well if it isn't The Hero of Brevoy." The swordmaster took off his hat with a sweeping bow, the ridiculous over plumbed peacock feathers swept the floor like a broom. "...And if it isn't my old friend. The Homicidal Tyrant, Zhang Li Low." There was a long pause, Feng frozen in place, between the swordmaster and his master.... then with a sudden unexpected end to the silence, both Dalmon and Zhang burst into laughter. The assassin, bodyguard, and even the Pathfinders looked back and forth between them in confusion. "Hahaha! Now, now. I was only going to kill them if you didn't show up! " Efrance sheathed his sword and hopped down the last of the stairs, walking past the massive man, who in confusion slowly lowered his blade. "I figured as much - Had to deal with some business back at HavenGuard. Quite the walk you know! Couldn't help that I was a tad late. Figured you couldn't resist crashing the party you weren't invited to." Feng begun sheathing his sword, seeing that his previous orders were seemingly forgotten. "...But really, where's Azazael? We really will need him." - "Business with father." "....Sure picked one hell of a time to be late." Efrance turned back to the Pathfinders, giving Mili a pat on the shoulder. "Now that was a close one. Thank's for bailing me out of that.... predicament. That business at Haraday turned a lot more messy then I had previously thought possible. No doubt would have stayed gone if not for all of your efforts - so, thanks."


Feng Ke

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/%20Feng%20Ke%20-%20Copy_zpsbk545p7q.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

While waiting for the master to arrive, Aisolyn's curiosity was piqued. There are very detailed maps here... if there were signs of the events that led up to what we went through, they might show here.

Walking around the room, she looks at the maps on the walls as well as the large one on the table. Any information might help... Even if it's not something I recognize right away.

Paying special attention to markers and symbols, Aisolyn takes pains to memorize what she sees in hopes of making some connection now or learning something that may be useful later.

This was taking place while waiting in the room, or shortly thereafter. Perception check for noticing things and Knowledge checks to identify significance.

Looking for anything of note. Perception Check: [roll0]

Symbols/locations/items/etc of magical significance. Knowledge (Arcana) Check: [roll1]
Symbols/locations/items/etc of religious significance. Knowledge (Religion) Check: [roll2]
Symbols/etc of planar significance. Knowledge (Planes) Check: [roll3]

[ArtichokeDip]

After Efrance enters the room and speaks, Aisolyn's eyes narrow. He remembers as well? Was he behind this or that creature he made a deal with?

"What has happened already is a bit beyond the realm of things we bargained for, Dalmon. We will be wanting an explanation." Aisolyn glanced around the room at the unfamiliar and potentially hostile faces. "Soon, at any rate," she said reluctantly.

[Phasm]

Mirri's hand goes to her sword as Zhang carelessly orders for 'the creatures' to be killed. Fortunately she does not draw it, because a moment later Efrance appears! Laughing with these people like they're old buddies, no less! I really, really want a drink right now.

"...What she said." The catfolk jabs a thumb in Aisolyn's direction. "You're welcome, and we're all very grateful that you pulled our tails out of the fire as well, but what in the nine hells is going on here?!"

[Khosan]

'Rat.' It had been quite some time since Mili had heard the word filled with that much vitriol. Yep. Just like old times. If it had been just her, she could've escaped, but with the others here that wasn't an option. She hopped out of her seat and backpedaled towards the others when Feng started advancing, only to find herself backing into Dalmon.

"Oh. Hello." She folds her arms, giving Dalmon as much of a look as one can give with a mask covering your face, "Had a feeling you'd be here. You're welcome and to pay me back, you can just include me in that 'kittens' thing. It's just as applicable to little cats as little rats." She beams, somehow, probably by slightly angling her mask to better reflect a light source.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka looks as if she's almost ready to throw the chair she is sitting on when Feng is ordered to attack. It is only the entrance of Dalmon that stops the chair from being launched as Renka, rather irately, settles back into a proper seating position.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:04 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The big-man known as Feng seemed as equally confused about the new development skulking back to the side of Master Zhang. Dalmon leaned over the table with a grin plastered on his face. "So... before we get to business... I have some things to take care of with the kids here. So, if you wouldn't mind. I'll need a moment." Zhang rolled his eyes as if expecting as much. "Very well 'Hero', do try not to waste an abundance of time.... Song, fetch my brother while our guests are occupied." The assassin curtly nodded then walked into the corner where the young-tyrant had made his entrance. Similarly, she vanished in a pale smokey light.

The war table was covered with a number of various pieces and marks. The large vellum map of the city painted details of the large urban environment with painful detail. Though she did not understand what importance many of the pieces played, she recognized many of the locations. Each of those marked were places where the Pathfinders and their allies would deploy during The HavenGuard Offensive. The red blocks seemed to hint at opposing forces moving in these areas - but perhaps even more strangely were the strange figures placed upon East Lantern Street. The famously haunted street which was quite literally less then a minute or two from their exact location, as The Scumm Bar sat upon Lantern Street. Whatever the reason, these markers were distinctly different from the others and seemed to hold significance.


Efrance turned back to the group leading them back up and into the stairwell to gain some distance between them and their hosts. Intent not to be overheard. "Sorry for the theatrics, but these guys are not the sort you want to find in your company. Unfortunately, we don't have much of a say this time around. We don't have a lot of time, and I don't have all the answers - but if you have questions, right now, this is the time you have to ask them. After that - we won't be having this conversation again... Not in this life, anyways."

[flat_footed]

Khellan stares at Efrance and blurts out the one thing on his mind since Dalmon's arrival.

"Did you die."

In fact, it wasn't even a question. Khellan was so sure the answer was yes he was just waiting to hear Dalmon's acknowledgement. Renka's body was mauled severely by the undead. Efrance was torn away by a creature of immense size and power, if not godly ability. So what the hell happened to Fa'uka? A sharp grimace crosses Khellan's face as he contemplates what horrors Fa'uka may have been forced through.

[Phasm]

"How did this time traveling thing happen? Why? Who and what were those... beings... we saw back there?" Mirri is tempted to ask about the Very Important Book, but she can't quite remember the name. It had so many long words!

[ArtichokeDip]

Frowning, Aisolyn says, "You may not be able to answer all our questions, but the what and the why of it are most important, as well as how to stop it from happening again."

"I also have a personal interest in knowing how Serra'Tal and that," she says, he eyes narrowing, "Amarillis are involved."

[Khosan]

"I think Mirri got to the heart of it." Mili hops back on to the chair she'd just vacated, "I'll just add in that the symbols you told us about were actually Azlanti, and I was wondering if you could think of any significance to that. I'd also like to know what's so important about this Verdant Grove and why we need to get there in such a precise manner."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:05 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The swordsmaster glanced at Mili giving a shrug. "The whole directions-bit is just using what steps I've tried and know to work for not getting killed off. I don't know the why as to why we need to get to 'Location X'. That's not part of the game." He pointed at Mirri with a nod. "That would be the golden-question... I'll get to that in a second." Turning to the elf. "Oh, yes. I died alright. But so did you - all of you actually. The only difference is that you won the game before you were all butchered. No one made it out of Haraday Theater. Taking that hall was a death-trap. A trap you had no escape from without more 'intervention'. Blame that one on the white-cat. I'd never seen that path taken before, but, now I know I suppose."

"Unlike me, you don't remember your death. You don't get to remember if you make it to the finish line. However, if you've died - you get to spectate until the survivors have all died, or found victory. You and the wolf died in the cellar. It was flooded like I thought, but it was different. The quake, happened to collapse one of the sluice systems and flood the chambers which led back into the catacombs. Drowning is a pretty rough way to go. creatures from the tunnels were in the water two. The few of you that were left managed to make it out of the water while the creatures were occupied with... what was left of you. The collapsed passage led into the sewers - a sealed maintenance tunnel was your escape, unfortunately the tunnel was forked with a sign to old to understand. They chose the left shaft first, opening the shaft. It was flooded and swarming with plagued undead caught in the waters from the catacombs. It wasn't pretty. The wall of water sent you all back into Haraday's cellar, the little one was all that was left after that. She made it back into the catacombs - that Serra'Tal woman was there too. There wasn't much that could be done after that. She was right in the heart of it. Some kind of great resurrection or summoning. Looked like whatever, whoever had summoned the Aegisir decided to come out from wherever they were and deal with the last of you them-self. I wager, they were a tad bit irate having lost and decided to clean up."

His gaze lingered on Aisolyn for a moment as if trying to consider how to answer. "Honestly. I had no idea who 'Serra'Tal' even was until you made it into The Catacombs after the rest of them died. I'm not sure where she fits in all of this, but without a doubt, she's a player in this game as much as any of us - and she's using that coven of witches to move things in her favor. Beyond that... it's just speculation, but I have a feeling she knows more then I do. Now... in regard to dear Amarillis... well... That's why I had business at HavenGuard. You'll see what I mean." Turning his attention back to Mirri, he gave a confident smirk. "Now this one I can answer. Simply put, we've all been somehow, for lack of better words - cursed. Or one might even say chosen, at the expense of sounding self glorifying. At some point, something happened to you - to all of us. I can't remember my life a year before the war in Bravoy. I don't know who I was, what I was doing - or anyone from that time... Something was lost. Maybe I died. But something brought us back - and now a tribute must be paid. A period of servitude. While we serve this.... thing, which has restored us, we are known as Aegisir. Champions of this entity. Other being like it contest and battle one-another using their Aegisir - us, as their weapons. For what purpose, I can't be certain. But from what I understand. The being which sent those Aegisir to Haraday Theater to destroy us has lost to its peers previously, and has been imprisoned."

"These 'games' are contests of the highest stakes - not always dependent upon combat. We don't get to choose what the challenge is, or even get to know why. The world is a little different each time - but not because of them. Because of us. For each victory an Aegisir achieves, we receive a shard of some kind of divine power. A fragment called an Aegisir'nossta. With it, we can change time - edit the world. Usually small changes, but with enough of this energy, we can alter events - people, history. Even ourselves. It is our primary weapon against the other Aegisir - as they will employ such power against us, much like they did at Haraday Theater. Changes incurred by Aegisir'nossta to the world are called a Causality-Alter. Of course this requires that you know about what will, or is supposed to transpire, in order to change it. By expending this energy, we can alter our place in time. Aegisir, like you and me, exist outside of these 'challenges', and will seek to destroy you if they can. Being slain during a challenge is not the end. Though being killed normally, usually will. If you've gathered enough energy through victories, I've heard some Aegisir are returned to life - though with their time of servitude renewed. Yet, I can't say as to how long that time actually is. Yet, due to the lack of challenges, it seems our benefactor is very passive in his stance on battle, and duels from peers."

"I'd also thought that we would have won Aegisir'nossta from this most recent victory, however, we did not. Why? I'm not sure. But I know who would... For now though, we have a task. We need to get the successor to the Low Empire, Azazael, on our side. Our next challenge will apparently require it... Sometimes, we receive 'objectives' before a contest, which will make it achievable. Whatever the reason, our would-be master is finding no shortage of challenges from this... captured enemy? I suspect we'll all find out more as things begin to unfold. Any more questions?"

[ArtichokeDip]

"So we are now Aegisir of some entity, bound to its service. Are they," Aisolyn says with a nod in the direction of Zhang and Feng, "also Aegisir? If they are, then this map could have a whole new significance."

Thinking further she ponders, "And how would we know what entity they, or even you, serve? Our masters seem the same for now, but who knows when their game might pit us against each other."

Approaching E'France more closely, she whispers, "Who do you serve, Dalmon?"

[Phasm]

Mirri just stares at him for a moment, trying to take all this in. She's not the smartest catfolk out there, she knows this quite well. That's what she has Aisolyn, Mili and Renka for. Finally she blinks and lets out a long sigh.

"So basically we're some god's game pieces. Great. Just peachy." The warrior rubs her temples. She could really use some rest, a battle frenzy drains her energy like a night of partying or a day's forced march. "How come we don't remember any of this Aegisir stuff? If we win again, will we lose all our memories of talking to you about this and have to find out again?

"And what's the Low Empire? I don't remember ever hearing about that."

[Mokou-tan]

A bit of a smile creeps upon Renka's face. A chance of betrayal? The inability to truly trust your ally? Even if I'm doing the right thing, it's still the same. The cat-like girl clasps a hand on Aisolyn's shoulder. "Don't worry, you just have to learn to live like an assassin. Today's friend may be tomorrow's target, but for now, they're an ally. Worry about it IF the time comes, and if it does, don't hold back. That's just how life works."

[Khosan]

"Wonderful," Mili spoke flatly. It answered most of her immediate questions, but left her feeling unfulfilled in a distinctly unsatisfying way. An answer was an answer, but it was like being given a drop of water after spending a week in the desert. It was welcome, but not nearly enough to get the job done.

"I guess I've got one more thing to add then. After you died, I heard something, the others might've too but we haven't had time to talk about it. From the sounds of it, it was..." She scratches her head, trying to conjure up the details. It had only been a few minutes ago, but it already felt like a dream. "There were three of them and I caught some names. Nau, Valper and Danua. Nau and Valper were the two...instigators. Danua was some kind of arbiter between the two, gave them the opportunity to settle their bet. There was something about a book," Mili drums her fingers across the chin of her mask. The book was important. A couple taps later and she suddenly bolts upright, recalling the name, "The Perdition of a Maledictive Eternity. Valper was very coy about it, made Nau say the name of the book so she didn't have to say it herself. And given that Nau hated us and Danua wasn't in the running, I think Valper is our patron."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:05 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

Efrance frowned, putting his hand on the short girls head and pushing her back to arm's length. "Easy, short stuff - unfortunately I have no idea who you or my 'would-be-master' is. However, I've learned that if we were on opposing sides, you would simply 'know'. For all we know, none of us have a common benefactor and are simply the product of two entities which are not at war... I haven't been in such a position before, but you'll have to take it for what it is. Friends today can be enemies tomorrow. In which case, sorry to be you, hah." He nodded at Mirri's words. "From what I can tell, the only thing you don't get to remember is your death - assuming you won. But the rules seem to vary depending on the type of contest. But more or less we're similar to some gladiatorial champions. The longer you stay alive, and win, the more power you can accumulate to better your odds of winning in the future. From what I gathered - all of those frightening Aegisir you encountered were once human, or rather, some mundane creature. However they've won extensively for, gods know how long, and they've transformed themselves into.... that. " He scratched his head in thought, "Not sure what to make of all that - or how long they must have existed to gather that amount of power. Honestly, it's a bit vexing to contemplate. In any case.... I think or guest of honor should be arriving soon. Azazael wouldn't give me - or you, the time of day normally. But with Zhang here, he's bound to show his face. For those of you unaware, here in Caliphas our criminals ad thugs all work for one man. Dr. Low. Those that don't do what they do and hide - hoping they aren't caught by Low and his Tian bruisers before the city guard. His criminal empire runs the under-belly of the city, and his revenue also sustains it. Azazael is an 'adopted son', or sorts, and heir to the criminal empire. Zhang is Low's only blood related heir, yet the crown was passed to this stranger instead. The tale is that Azazael was a blind-oracle child in youth, protected by some monastic order. Upon coming of age, the deity who granted the boy his powers, known as Haneulgwa Gong-Gi, The Dragon of Heaven and Sky possessed him. Using his body as his vessel. The product is of course, Azazael. The dragon, Haneulgwa Gong-Gi was the family sigil of the Low Family. Apparently, they are descended from some ancient priesthood or something which once served the serpent. Hearing that his subject's descendants lived, he demanded his throne.... I've no idea how much of this tale is real, but its the family tale the Low's tell, so I'll leave it at that. In either case, Azazael is quite impressive. I'm just a sword-fighter, but the man's command in battle is..... Well, let me just put it this way. I've fought more battles then I can remember, but facing that man. I can't help but think there's something to the Low's family history. It's not human... Men can't move like that... I cant say I know those names either, but I think we might learn their significance here."

A familiar burst of grey smoke and residual magic manifested in the room. This time there was no lumbering bodyguard. A tall man stood in the clearing, wearing a long white furred coat. His hair was clear and sleek, an unusual white misty haze seemed to drift from his person. The lavish nature of his cloths could only be afforded by one with the utmost wealth to afford such extraordinary finery. The sheathed swords in either hand were not outrageously decorated like Zhang's, but were of a quality unseen before by any of them. The metals which fashioned it were nameless and unknown. The man's sharp eyes held a sharp edge to them, reflecting a life defined by violence. He looked to Zhang "...I had no intention of humoring this mans request, Zhang. You should not have come." He eyed The Hero of Brevoy dangerously, then scanned those behind him with evident impatience. "I don't have time for your games... Hero. Tell me why I'm here before I split you in twain." Dalmon cleared his throat, stepping forward with his usual confidence. "Now, now - No need to be so hasty. I'm sure Papa Low can wipe his own behind for five-minutes." Zhang burst into laughter while 'The Dragon's' eyes narrowed. "It's quite simple Azzy. I've come to give you... a gift. Oh, no, no. Not some words of enlightenment, or a fancy new nickname. Something else, something you've been looking for, for a long time. A name. A name to a book. A book one cannot touch, and the writer can't speak. - Remember, you said something about how you'd help an old sword-fighter if by some unlikely string of fate I managed to acquire that - and it is just that, which I have acquired!" He slid forward as he spoke, creeping up to Azazael until he was pressing up besides him, to throw an arm over his shoulder. The man visibly flinched, as if his presence was offensive. "..But, you see. While I'm more then willing to give you said name... Me and my compatriots need some help from you." The man growled, "...What kind of 'help'." Dalmon waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, nothing that'll take any sweat off your brow. You see, my friends here have some acquaintances. Just some names really. They need to know about them - and what's their... disposition..." Azazael shoved the swordmaster off, "Done. I agree to your terms. The name."

Efrance turned to the Pathfinders. "Alright, tell the man. He's too proud to take back his word. Maybe we can get some answers."



Azazael

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Characters/%20Azazael%20-%20Copy_zps4zvzdu9x.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

With E'France's hand on her head, held at arms length, Aisolyn's eyes glint a frosty color. Windmilling her arms fails to achieve the desired effect of pushing him back, however, and she settles into a pout until Azazael's entrance.

Listening to their conversation, several things stand out in her mind and her brow creases in thought.

What do we know?

One, that we may not serve the same master as E'France. He is a friend for now, but may be an enemy later. How do we determine that? How will we deal with him when the time comes? He has an angle here as well, but we don't know what it is. He can't be doing all this selflessly.

Two, the 'Dragon' may or may not be a player itself. If it's involved in the game, revealing too much may be hazardous. If it isn't, it may become one later anyway. The map on the table might tell us what its faction knows, and what its plans may be.

Three, the book mentioned is likely The Perdition of a Maledictive Eternity which we heard mentioned in the space between death and our rebirth. If he desires the book, can he end this? Or is this what started our cycle. The book is important to our patron, and lengths were gone to to trick one of them into telling us the name, but is the Dragon someone we should be revealing it to?

Four, Serra'Tal is involved in this somehow. She's different now, but we don't know if she's a player, an Aegisir, or an outside actor. Our patron seems to have a dedicated interest in her, but it seems to be up to us to determine how to save her from what happened... or what will happen.

Five, the names we know of Aegisir are Ar'Cor'Cerym and L'As'Maral, though they seemed less like people than demigods. Who are they and who do they serve? An enemy, surely, but we don't know much more than that. Are they destroyed now? Will that be the fate that awaits us if we fail even a single challenge?

Six, the names we know of players are Nau, Danua, and Valper. Our patron or goaler seems to be Valper... Galilei? Her mind strains for the memory of the times before. The Sun King. Whether we like it or not, we are tied to its service.

Seven, there are unknown others as well. This entire contest revolves around something called The Dusk Queen, which we seem to need to defeat. Whatever it is, it is probably Very Bad News if it has a pet like the Tal'Dhaka. Then there is Amarillis, she thinks, casting her eyes towards E'France. It could be a player, but is much more directly involved. It could be an Aegisir of someone unknown, or something outside the game entirely. She winces as her mind hurts just thinking about that time.

Glancing aside to Mili, Aisolyn wonders how she will respond. She had brought up the names before, but which ones would the Dragon recognize and which should be kept close.

[Khosan]

"Well, I'm most interested in Valper at the moment," Mili shrugs, "I've got a feel for some of the others, but not her." Knowing more about the other two she'd named would likely be more valuable but she couldn't help but wonder about the motivations of the one she suspected they literally owed their lives to. Nau clearly wanted them dead and Danua was ambivalent at best, but Valper was a mystery.

[Phasm]

Mirri is inclined to trust Efrance; if he meant them harm, he could have just left them to die in whatever hellish dimension they got stuck in. And among catfolk, debts- particularly life debts- are taken very seriously. They all owe Efrance their lives. He wants Azazael on their side, Azazael wants a particular name, so Azazael will get the name. "The magic book?" Mili just said it, even Mirri doesn't forget things that fast. She frowns, concentrating, and enunciates every word with the care of someone who doesn't quite understand what she's saying and wants to get it right. "The Perdition of a Maledictive Eternity. I'm not sure what that means, but that's what the god-person said."

[flat_footed]

As the conversation swirled around them, Khellan allowed his mind to take a moment. So many questions, so many half answers. He struggled to remember the water, even to the point of trying to imagine the feeling of drowning. It was all just too much to try to take in. His eyes drifted down to Fa'uka and he wondered what her experience in all of this may have been.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka gives a bit of a smile. Having someone agree to such an open-ended deal is always a nice thing. The stronger beings are important, but there's one person I'd really like to know about at this time... I hope they'll forgive my selfishness. "Serra'Tal."

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:05 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The man, the creature, Azazael waited silently until Mirri spoke the name. Briefly closing his eyes, as if to file away the information someone far away. "....I see. Very well then. I shall answer your questions, heros." He looked to Mirri first. "He. Lord Galilei - once. Long before your time. An Osirion noble, or some such origin, before his travels brought him to The Inner Sea. Few have heard this name. Fewer still live to speak it. A man-turned-god. One of the first to succeed the trials of the Starstone, the first of your gods. However, The Sun King did not emerge from the stone after his ascension - instead, he vanished from Golarion with out a trace. Another name forgotten, like many and all of those thought to have failed the trails of the gods. A weak and pitiful god. Yet, unmatched in his guile and cunning; his only merit. Now you've been entangled within his games. Far too frail to combat his peers - he relies on wagers and skillful competition to settle his disputes."

He visibly frowned at Renka. "A troublesome child, who should not have been left unattended within the world of your mortal kind. She is the daughter of The Dusk Queen, and likely the cause of your woes, and this infighting of lesser deities..." He slid his blades into the thick leather baldrics at his sides before crossing his arms. "If that's all - I'll be leaving. I've wasted enough time on you and your festivities."

Efrance cleared his throat. "Actually, I had one for you. Do we all happen to have the same Patron, was it? That's been bothering me." The Dragon shook his head. "No. Of course not. If Valper possessed the strength to bring you into his service - he would not have this lot, now would he? What he lacks in strength he combats with numbers. Though, your patron is not such a weak-spined fraud - and does not participate in Valper's games. You've been named as an Aegisir to fill the role of a surrogate, most likely." The swordmaster squinted his eyes and scratched his head, thoroughly befuddled. "....Well... then. Who's my Patron then?" The tall man looked down at The Hero of Brevoy. "A dragon, like myself. I've no business meddling in the affairs of my kin. That is your own mystery to resolve." The duelist sighed.

[ArtichokeDip]

Aisolyn glances at her silent comrades, then at E'France before lowering her eyes. Speaking softly into the silence that lingered after E'France's sigh, she addresses Azazael.

"We seem to be pawns in Valper's game, but his game has led us to you. Do you think the name being given to us was just by chance? Either because he thinks you can help us, or maybe because we can help you. The freeing of the Dusk Queen can't be all good for you or your family, can it?"

Lifting her head, she looks the demigod straight in the eyes. "While we are Aegisir and caught within this causality loop we can alter events... change things. Useful allies, even for one such as yourself. Our patron doesn't appear to bear you any ill-will which means we can make things that advance our causes help advance yours too."

"The attention of the other players in this game might not be as beneficent." With a wry smile, she continues, "Even one of your kin may not be above meddling if it suits them."

"For our part," she says, gesturing at her only friends, "information and other items to help sway the odds in our favor are what we need. Knowledge of what is to come and why. Places. People. Things. Anything that helps us can help you too."

"And for you... whatever assistance undying, time-travelling minions of a hidden god can provide."

[Khosan]

Mili rubs her forehead, "That really just raises a lot more questions, but I suppose that will have to do." She leans forward and rests her chin on the table. "Didn't really take Serra for the daughter of a...demigod. She always just felt like a big sister when I was growing up."

"All of..." Mili waves her hands in the air, trying to encapsulate the idea of gods, demigods, dragons and their games all into one coherent gesture, but clearly failing she gives up and continues, "that aside, I think there's something else we can discuss." She really did want to know more about...everything. But there was something else they needed to do. Like Dalmon said, they'd need Azazel's help. She wasn't quite sure in what respect they'd need his help, but there was at least one thing that stuck out in her mind. The little ratfolk stands up on her chair and leans over the table, planting a finger on the map, "The Bloodtear Club. We were-...are? Will be? At some point we'll be taking them on. Last time we tried, we lost everyone. Every single Pathfinder, every single soldier. Most of ours were taken out by an explosion and a few others were taken by Serra's witches before she intervened." She slides her hand over to the figures placed on Lantern Street, "Now these, I don't recognize. Everything else I do. This was our plan of attack."

"If you've gathered this much information on the plan as a whole, I take it you have some stake in the outcome. Or the man upstairs does, at least." Mili sits back down in her chair, "I can't speak for you, but I quite like the idea of being alive more than I like the idea of being a nocturnal blood-sucking parasite. If this plan is to succeed, we'll need help. Preferably your help, but we'll take whatever we can get."

[roll0]

[Phasm]

"Not getting our friends and comrades brutally killed would be great. Actually succeeding at our mission would be even better!" Mirri taps her claws on the tabletop, frowning as she ponders the board. "I wonder what caused the explosion? I mean, that's what killed most of our fellow Pathfinders. If we could find and eliminate that, maybe the plan could work!"

[flat_footed]

Khellan steps up to Mili, and places a hand on her shoulder in support and gives Aisolyn an encouraging smile. Turning to Azazael, Khellan speaks somberly.
"You may consider us mice caught within the intrigue of dragons, but that doesn't exactly accurately depict our usefulness, does it?"

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:06 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street - 'The Under Hollow'

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The Dragon looked down at the small girl with a blank expression. "Undying? I think you misunderstand - what little abilities you possess are entirely limited within the scope of Valper's games. You die the same as any other mortal. Your one merit, is that, to a lesser degree at least, you can perceive some notion of time similar to us. I have no qualms with The Dusk Queen - though this nonsense between her and Valper proves bothersome, at worst. I've no interest in involving myself in his foolishness, or you." He looked at Mili silently before Efrance cut in. "Actually, we never made it to The Bloodtear Club... If memory serves, we've been routed at the near-entrance to the catacombs without actually locating it's exact position..." He leaned over the table looking at the markers on the city man, "Though... It looks like it's marked right here.... Hm, convenient." Azazael shakes his head dismissively turning away as they both concluded. "Firstly... That's not my table. " He tapped the marker on Lantern Street. "I don't know what makes you think you need help, a notion from Dalmon? I doubt you've received any guidance yourself with how obviously desperate you are. I suspect his only part is exactly that of a proxy. In truth, no one has any stake in this little charade of Vosper's - aside from him, The Dusk Queen, and their Aegisir. I don't claim to have no investment in the matter entirely, but you seem to be under some pretense that everyone and anyone cares about this matter as if it is some dire concern, because it is a concern of yours. I assure you, that is not the case. These stupid games have turned into some kind of hobby for one of my sisters, and the wasted time is distracting her from simple duties - monotonous duties I quickly tire of tending to because of her carelessness. A nuisance, perhaps, though I could just as easily stop picking up the slack and let her tend to her own mess." He knocked over the figure as he looked up at Mili curiously with a raised brow. "...Growing up? The Dusk Queen's daughter is Azlanti and Keleshìte. If you'd have grown up with her, you'd be as old as Thassilon itself." He looked at each of them curiously.
"...You can't even remember, can you? Not what year you were born, nor anything of that world which you saw that woman grow. I suppose it would make sense. Living in isolation, you'd not have even been aware the remains of The Starstone were even coming... I know at least that The Dusk Queen hid away her daughter within The Darklands." He tapped the table, "Evidently you all perished in the destruction, if such was the case... Heh, Valper is indeed a clever one." The Dragon produced a small worn and weathered leather pamphlet, its pages were made of compressed and heavily processed darkleaf. He through the book on the floor in front of Mili, it landed with a heavy dull thud even though it held perhaps only 15 or so pages.
"I've no cause to aid you, and I do not intend to. However, given your unique predicament - She may feel differently. If you uncover the name of all The Valsharess, then perhaps we may speak again. Do not trouble me needlessly, Aegisir, or you will find my patience lacking." He sharply turned away sharply and begun walking away. Though he didn't bother turning around, though he spoke out a final time. "It's The Drowned Hall, Hero. Try not to die, again." He swiftly turned about as he stepped into the corner which he had entered from. "Your death is still one privilege I reserve for myself." A crash of white light and smoke ruptured forth as suddenly as it had before and then Azazael was gone. Zhang sat in his chair, having had listened silently and with a focused visage plastered on his face, very unalike his expression when he had entered. "Song. Feng. We're leaving." The young man stood from his large chair. "You'll obviously need some time to prepare, Hero. Return in the morning and we'll discuss my table in more detail. Azazael has blessed your venture - The House of Low will aid your quest." The congregation moved out of the room and similarly vanished in the magic transport.

After a moment of silence The Hero of Bravoy turned back to the group with a large grin, "Well... That went well. Lets... speak outside." He cleared his throat. "...The walls tend to have ears." He scooting the book with his boot, unsheathed his sword and lifted the thing off the ground with his sabre before placing it on the table. "Uh. Don't touch that with your hand..." He begun marching his way back up the long and winding stairs, not bothering to scabbard his blade.

[ArtichokeDip]

Aisolyn takes a long, lingering look at the table before following E'France. Looking at the downed piece, she thinks hard.

Azazael is certain of his position, but it's likely he knows less than he thinks... and more than we think he does. If Valper can manipulate gods, any action or word could be meaningful instead of just coincidence.

This table has meaning, even if it isn't what we think. I'll have to draw it from memory later.

Setting the image firmly in her mind, she turns and follows E'France.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka carefully steps up to the book on the table and takes off her scarf, tentatively wrapping it up without touching it. "No point leaving a gift behind..."

[Phasm]

Mirri turns to follow Efrance, muttering darkly under her breath in the Catfolk tongue. I hate being treated like a kitten! Okay, the dragon guy might be way older and more experienced than any of her friends, but he didn't have to be so rude about it. And what was that about a Drowned Hall? Hopefully Efrance knows.

She very carefully does not think about the fact that she might have actually been born and died millennia ago. That's just... no. Not right now.

[flat_footed]

Khellan nods to himself as Renka wisely wraps and transports the book. "I can only imagine what can be written on those pages." He turns to Fa'uka and whistles sharply, rousing her from the floor. It had been a long day for them all and it was starting to show. I wonder if there's any rooms in this place. Khellan muses to himself, then wrinkles his nose at the thought. Hearing his companions steps go higher, Khellan starts up as well.

[Khosan]

"Pleasure doing business with you," Mili slips off her chair and bows. With her head momentarily dipping below the table she gets a close up view of the lengths Dalmon went through to not touch the book. How odd.

"That went surprisingly well, I think." She stretches her arms above her head, "I have to ask, Dalmon...What's with the book?"

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:28 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Text%20and%20Flavor/edit1_zpsvbnjs7ce.jpg

The path up was not the same going down.

The walked... and walked. The walked some more. The room had immediately vanished behind them as they went up the stairs revealing only a path further down behind them. The stairs were not well maintained, they were cracked, rotting-wooden things which creaked and moaned as if walking across a poorly tuned xylophone.

The first 15 minutes were spent in general silence. Efrance had still yet to sheath his blade. The dim illumination of the glowing skymetal allow pushed back the dark. Then finally he spoke, dividing the silence. "...It's not going to be getting any easier. Don't play around with that book either. Don't open it. There's nothing to read." He dug into his pocket, switching hands to carry the sabre loosely - retrieving a single white dueling-glove. He slid it on and pulled it down with his teeth before shifting grip again. "You lot don't travel the city that much - so you might not be aware, but it's very unlikely leaving will be a simple as out entrance. Lantern Street, well, its haunted, if you haven't noticed. The particularly unsavory-bits tend to remain further down the avenue - but, lets just say, we've happened step into one such exception which diverges from that fact. I suggest you prepare for the worst."


6 Minutes Later... Prepared for battle.


With a swift wave of his hand above his blade, the light was extinguished leaving a pitch darkness. He stopped dead in his tracks 10ft from the door above, raising a hand. They paused behind him. The silence was disturbed by some distant muffled sound. The sound of weeping. Efrance raised a finger to his lips gesturing with his body to 'sneak' - or rather, walk quietly. He stepped onto the hand-rails to get off the squeaking steps and shimmy up to the door. In a crouch he peeled around the corner keeping his back to the wall. The darkness seemed to pulse and hum in a disturbingly familiar manner - imitating the motion, they shimmied up to the door.

The Scumm Bar was a burnt-out hole. The tables were exactly where they had seen them, but lay broken upon the ground as blackened charcoal. Broken bones and the remains of corpses dressed similarly to the patrons they had passed littered the floor. The door at the exit hung loosely from the hinges with a rattle, swinging in a breeze - though the air was still. With sudden an unexpected motion of air - the temperature dropped dramatically sending a deathly chill in the air. Their breath misted out in the icy air. A crackling, snapping, popping chorus filled their ears as they looked up to the walls - sheets of frosting rime creeped down the interior of the bar. The loose wooden planks of the floor rattled and twisted, leaping and clacking, freezing gouts of smoke sputtered out from the loose wooden panels as the ground beneath them frosted over with thick layers of ice. From far within, far in the corner the figure of a woman weeping over a corpse could be made out from where they stood. Dalmon shook his head at them in warning, he flagged them over with his sword while he crawled along the ice, creeping towards the door - evidently intending to escape the cursed place.



The UnderHollow Escape
Escaping the haunted building may not be as simple as they had thought - The Pathfinders attempt to sneak out of the bar.
Sneak Check: DC18

(Walking): Does not grant any benefits and is loud, but is the fastest method. (Requires: Two Stealth Checks and a DC15 Reflex Save to avoid slipping upon the rime)
(Shuffling): Does not grant any benefits, but is somewhat more reliable and slow. (Make a DC12 Reflex Save to avoid slipping)
(Crawling): Grants a minor bonus, and avoids slipping, but takes twice as long. (Gain a +2 Bonus to your Stealth Checks. However, make two Stealth Checks.)
(Low-Crawl): Grant a major bonus, and avoids slipping, but takes three-times as long. (Gain a +6 Bonus to your Stealth Checks. However, make three Stealth Checks.)

[Phasm]

Great. Why couldn't they leave the way they came? Mirri doesn't get it. Well, she'll make Efrance or Mili explain later. Right now it's sneaky time. Being catfolk and wearing softpaw boots helps with that, but wearing a breastplate does not help at all. So she drops to the floor like Efrance and starts crawling very slowly. Hopefully she can keep her armor from creaking too much that way.


Ah, the perils of being a frontliner. Low Crawl for Mirri, wish me luck!

Stealth:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
Beneath The Veil

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

From outside, faint-yet familiar voices could be heard outside. As the escaping Aegisir within begun their creeping towards the door, they could briefly make out the faces of old friends outside. Outside Venture-Captain Haldan, Chronicler Bridgeman and Weaponsmaster Lucian stood near the entrance to the run-down building. Denise - now very much alive, held a lantern at the end of her staff to ward against the chill night air. The white and gold of her clerical robes were a drastic contrast to Haldern's ostentatious plate armor, and Lucian's well tailored attire covered with his blood stained leather apron. The wear of many battles was etched into the old and worn garment. "This is the right place, isn't it Bri?" Lucian leaned on his spiked earthbreaker. Denise nodded. "I'm absolutely positive. He said they'd be here... Though he mentioned he may be delayed, 'if things didn't go well'. " The Venture-Captain sighed. "...You two have never worked with Dalmon before, but as you'll learn. The man does manage to fail, spectacularly." Lucian sighed, evidently perturbed at the notion. "Well, hopefully, he gives us some sort of sigh. A signal or somethin-" A loud a resounding banging clash as metal smashed into the ground, once, twice. A deafening scream filled the air as the burnt out bar behind them sprung to life. The wood rattled and animated - the shutters snapped shut and melded shut into a solid twisted wooden seal. The broken steps danced and flipped, twisting into long flat spears, which thrust themselves into the amorphous churning door frame, creating a spiked wall. The broken panels of the exterior flipped, clacked and slammed into any open space to seal the interior. "...There's your sign! Lets move!"








Part I: Time As Abjection
The UnderHollow Escape

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 1

The attempt at stealth was short lived. After a few moments of crawling, Mirri's hand slipped on the ice, crashing down upon her armor - raising her self up, then crashing down again. The metal clank echoed off the walls - a short period of silence - then a deafening cry. The Weeping Woman screamed out into the chill air. The wooden tiles violent flipped spun and thrashed. Every wooden plank in the floor exploded forth from the ice, tossing them to the floor, before the sheet instantly re-froze as billowing clouds of freezing mist seeped down from the walls. The jagged shards which now covered the floor made falling both dangerous - and likely. The darkness which filled the room twitched and danced, spanning out. The shadowy figures slid along the walls and floor entering the bodies upon the ground, which flexed then begun to rise up. Funnels of freezing soulstuff roiled out from their eyeless sockets and mouths. Their hands spasmed then erupted, grotesquely splitting flesh and tipping their hands with vicious looking prismatic claws of icy crystal. Those who could not find a body begun to rise from the ground, while others vanished entirely.

With sudden vigor Efrance rose up, waving his hand above his sword splashing the room with sapphire light. "... Above!" He pointed his blade upwards, at a pair of strange frightful spirits which appeared like legless tatters of cloth with wild grey frozen hair and wicked sapphire burning hands which ended in dreadful nails of some semi-physical blazing energy. They moaned as they creeped along the ceiling releasing gouts of frozen rime. "Hoarspirits... They'll freeze you solid, and bleed the very life from you. The Rimewalkers, are some sort of Glacial Haunt. Impossible to evade for the living - they sense pray by their warmth and some arcane form of lifesense. Be wary... their very presence is fatal!" The enemies seemed to manifest and pour in from the freezing mists endlessly until they filled the massive 140ft wide interior. The shadowy creatures rose from the ground with cruel clawed hands, The Weeping Spirit moaned and cried as more of the frozen bodies sprung to life. Efrance's face dropped noticeably. "Lesser Shadows, spirits and the frozen dead.... Gods. We need to get out of here." The horde, now nearly an army of deathless creatures lurched forward across the frozen ground. From outside the hammering sound of the Pathfinders - namely Lucian's hammer crashing into the door could be heard even over the wailing. This wasn't good - This wasn't good at all. The had to escape.



The Frozen Ground
The ground is frozen solid and covered with jagged blades of rime and frost, while also being unreasonably slippery:
Moving at half speed or slower posses no risk, however;
-When making a 5ft Step, characters must make succeed a DC12 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving at full speed characters must succeed a DC15 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving above normal speed characters must succeed a DC18 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-Creatures who fall prone sustain 1d6+3 Points of Piercing and Cold Damage as the jagged ice-blades pierce them.





http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Under-Hollow%20Escape/NKaIa_zpsqmsyxbrj.jpg


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Under-Hollow%20Escape/total%201_zpsyfxz4lez.jpg




BATTLE MAP

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Under-Hollow%20Escape/map1_zpsworrfbjp.jpg

[Khosan]

"For the love of-" Mili cuts herself off, better to act now than spend time complaining. Her stride is shaky, unstable, but she still moves at a decent pace though it's abundantly clear she's thinking very hard about each step and trying her hardest to keep her balance. She unsheathes her rapier, fully intending to use it this time and grumbles, "We need to get off this ice." Sliding to a halt just behind Mirri, the little rat grabs hold of the cat's tail, partly to steady herself and as part of a spell she was about to cast.

"And Mirri," Mili says with a hint of whimsy in her voice, "You need to grow up." She brings the clumsy feline's tail to her mouth and blows into it, hard. Silly as it is, it has the desired effect, blowing up Mirri to twice her normal size.

Move Action: Mili moves to U20 and draws her rapier
Standard Action: Mili casts Enlarge Person on Mirri

[ArtichokeDip]

Picking her way carefully through the ice, Aisolyn moves partway towards Mirri.

Too far to bestow direct blessings on her, she instead casts a wider one on the entire group. In this fight we will need every edge we can get.

Move Action: Half movement speed to move to W19.
Standard Action: Casting Bless on the group.

[flat_footed]

Seeing the hurried actions of those around him, Khellan's apprehension grew. He could see the dangers surrounding them and knew the actions were serving to draw further attention. Feeling a lump in his pocket, he draws the Thunderstone given to him a lifetime ago and lobs it the opposite direction as their movement.
Standard Action: Lobbing the Thunderstone at I9
Move Action: Move to V21

Fa'uka, feeling the cold under her paws takes a few steps gingerly forward, keeping herself within the group.
Move Action: Fa'uka moves to U22

[Phasm]

"Whoa!" Mirri teeters a bit as she shoots up, but fortunately for everyone around her she doesn't fall. "Haha, this is great! Thanks, Mili!" She takes a slow, careful step forward, then another one. "Follow me, everybody! Rrragh, I am Giant Cat!" Navigating around the chairs on the ice is kind of tricky, but the nimble catfolk manages by moving slowly and watching her feet.

We got through the Goop of Doom by stepping on other things, so maybe the others can walk on the furniture! Mirri narrows her eyes at the undead in her two o'clock position. "Okay, you guys take the undead by the booth to our right. That way you can walk on the furniture instead of the ice. I'll take the other one on the right." One more step, and it's within reach of her sword. "AHAHAHA! DIE!"


God, I love writing Mirri's dialogue. :smallbiggrin: Unless the undead are making a ton of noise, she's probably audible outside. Move at half speed to R23, R24, S23 and S24. Rage and attack the unidentified undead at P24.

Attack: [roll0] (+2 favored enemy, +2 rage, +1 accurate stance, +1 bless, +1 enlarge person)

Damage: [roll1] (+2 favored enemy, +2 rage, +1 enlarge person)

[Mokou-tan]

Renka lets out an irritated growl as she follows along, trying to figure out a way out of this mess that doesn't involve dying for good. Another fight where I can't hide? Figures. Only choice here is to run and hope my allies come up with a way to escape.

Move to W19, 15 feet

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The UnderHollow Escape

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 2

The Frozen Ground
The ground is frozen solid and covered with jagged blades of rime and frost, while also being unreasonably slippery:
Moving at half speed or slower posses no risk, however;
-When making a 5ft Step, characters must make succeed a DC12 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving at full speed characters must succeed a DC15 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving above normal speed characters must succeed a DC18 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-Creatures who fall prone sustain 1d6+3 Points of Piercing and Cold Damage as the jagged ice-blades pierce them.



"HAAAAAAAAAGH!" Bishop's deep bellowing voice could be heard from outside as his massive hammer crashed into the twisted bastion of wood keeping them at bay. After a moment, the stern voice of the venture-captain echoed out in her impatience. "...ENOUGH! Out of my way you oaf." With the sound of a crackling peel of thunderous lightning, a wave of shimmering silver light washed away the darkness as Captain Halden cleaved the door in twain with a single stroke from her massive bastard sword. The emerald gleam from the blades life stealing magics illuminated her fair features eerily. She pointed her sword inside. "If it looks dead, kill it again!" Lucian sprung inside, swatting aside the table which lay carelessly placed in his path. His usually soft features hardened for battle, the unusual deep blue of his hair, a mark left from his fey ancestors, seemed to fit well within the frozen tavern. Denise rushed in behind him holding her staff high in the air repulsing the cold and ice to leave a trail of cleared ground underfoot. " Hold on, lads! We're coming!"

But they all knew, they wouldn't make it in time...
The creature's closed in around them from all sides. On their left, a frozen undead creature limped along the ice, while behind it soared strange twitching figments of shadow to threaten any inclination of escape. Mirri, now twice her own size crashed forward as suddenly shadows crawled forth from out of the decaying folds of broken tables and chairs. Another appearing from behind the shattered remains of a large bar stool as another frozen creature limped forward across the ice. "...Dammit all. Wait!" Too late to stop the cat, she raced forward lifting her massive sword-


It was invisible at first, the twisting-churn of the super-cold air. Then suddenly it struck her. The unnatural frost ripped off skin, and cut into her arms, cracking the leather straps in her armor and turning her fur as stiff as frozen leaves. The Rimewalker as Efrance had called them, cackled in some manner of twisted glee. A dry and unnatural sound, as if it understood the pain its very presence inflected upon her. The pain surged through her body, the cold turned to fire. A burning within her chest that raced through her body. Efrance burst forward in a frenzy of motion, skidding forward with a expert series of sharp thrusts. A motion so finely executed, it was no doubt an attack routine he'd practiced thousands of times before. His estoc pierced the shadowy creature's eyeless socket, then it's other, before he spun out with a graceful step over the ice, sliding in to deliver another thrust into the newly emerging shadow which had joined the fray. A second Rimewalker marched upon them, coming too close to the daring duelist. A freezing wave of unearthly energy caught him as well, nearly sending him toppling back. The first creature Dalmon struck with his glowing blade shuddered then disipated into a cloud of dark mist, but the second simply reared back stunned from the deadly assault. [Mirri Takes 2 Points of Cold Damage]

Mirri grit her teeth under the pain of the burning wave of energy that boiled beneath her skin, her sword still held high within the air as she was buffeted by the freezing gale. A flicker of light danced, sputtered, then roared from her longsword. The metal of the blade erupted in a searing orange light. The sudden surge of energy manifested in a fierce beam of burning light, as if she channeled some paladin's divine wrath. Pulses of shimmering light banished the darkness away. She brought the golden sword down.

A massive crash of flame exploded into the tavern. The beam of light extended 45ft into the sky cutting a line of howling flame through the air, and into the ceiling. The sword came down with quaking violence sending violent shudders through the old floorboards and cleaving though the Rimewalker, the shadow behind him, the floor, and deep down into the foundations of the old tavern, leaving a massive length that was nothing more then a molten pit of hissing magma steaming from the very bottom of the cellars. Wood liquefied into into nothing more then molten slag to drip into the 45ft long trench which had been carved into the interior. It was much too hot to even attempt to cross... The remains of the creatures she struck were no longer discernible from the dancing flame and boil of the pools which continued to burn their way through the ground below. The beaming light from her sword wavered, danced, flickered and died - leaving only the ordinary sword in its place. The burning within her body suddenly surged out of herself in a roil of steam from her skin's pours, leaving her in a literal smoking state. A strange and passing vision of a man, a priest filled her mind. A sorrowful Mendevian Crusader standing upon the precipice of The WorldWound. He wore a bold red coat and scarf, his dark brown hair was stained with his blood as if he'd been struck down. A strange name filled her mind... Something from the north. It sounded like; Gwen'del...



Aegisir Discoveries

With each experience, each challenge and time traveled - Aegisir gain strange and unique powers which span across the bounds of time.


As The Pathfinder's become more accomplished Aegisir, they will unlock new abilities known as Discoveries. Each Discovery will grant strange unique abilities that must be mastered to pave the road to victory during battle with other Aegisir. Learning a Discovery only grants the ability to use the Discovery, but not knowledge of how it is used, triggered, or what it may do. Discoveries often possess a number of uses unique to Aegisir and their duels. Discoveries are shared among The Pathfinders, however, each individual only possesses a small number of Discoveries which they may choose to learn at one time. They may choose to learn a previously gained Discovery when they possess the necessary Discovery Teachings.

Discovery Teachings: Teachings function similarly to feat slots, and are used to select which Discoveries you currently know. Some Discoveries require more then one Teaching to learn. Teachings used to select a Discovery cannot be changed later, however new Teachings may be spent to learn past acquired Discoveries. Discoveries are not able to be learned until after Aegisir have unearthed the nature of their function.




BATTLE MAP

http://i.imgur.com/QnhtnRJ.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

Blinking in the sudden glare of the golden flames, Aisolyn was taken aback. That was... unexpected.

Glancing back she sees some floating shadows and another of the frost covered creatures approaching from the rear. But if it destroyed them, it's still safer than it is here! And maybe that heat will keep the ice melted.

Picking her way through treacherous floor, she tries to stay within the safety of the group and get closer to Mirri.

Move Action: Half-speed move to W21
Move Action: Half-speed move to V22 (or V23 if you treat diagonals separately for each move)

[Khosan]

"What the hell was that?!" Mili ducks past Mirri, eyes locked on the inferno that lay in front of the big cat. It wasn't often she found herself in situations where fire was a welcome sight and a significant portion of her mind wasn't about to let her see it that way either. Shaking her head, she skids to a halt next to a bar stool, At least we've got some breathing room.

Double Half Move Action: To R27

[flat_footed]

Khellan's mouth drops in awe at the fiery destruction that leapt from Mirri's blade. Fa'uka is likewise disturbed by the damage and rears up, pushing into Khellan slightly. It is all he can do to keep his balance while straining with Fa'uka's bulk. Khellan whistles hard and grabs a hunk of Fa'uka's fur with his hand, twisting it to bring her senses back. She growls deeply at the pain but assumes her position in front of Khellan. Another sharp whistle from Khellan sends Fa'uka closer to the action as she carefully pads over the slippery surface. Fa'uka reaches one of the tables and steps up cautiously, giving her feet a brief break from the bitter cold.

Seeing Fa'uka reach the table, Khellan follows her path for just a few steps, not daring to risk his balance on the icy deathtrap. He smoothly draws his bow and nocks a curious arrow onto it, designed to force its way through armor instead of neatly cutting through it. I can only hope that this is more effective than a normal arrow.. otherwise I'm just getting in the way.

Fa'uka will half move to S26 and get on the table. I can roll for Acrobatics if need be. Once on the table, she will ready an attack to bite anything that comes within reach.
Khellan will half move to U23 while drawing his bow with a blunt arrow knocked. He will ready an action to fire on any Rimewalker that he has a clear line to (assuming that precise shot is not ruled as a way around of a direct line to the target). His preference is to strike at R^, but will loose at R1 if it is not possible to get a clear shot.

[Mokou-tan]

Renka watches in awe at Mirri's feat. After a moment of recovery, she makes a break for it. I won't survive if I don't get a move on. I'm no good in a straight up fight with these kinds of things!
Double half moving to T24, if possible.

[Phasm]

"Gwen'del..." Mirri stares off into space for a brief moment, then shakes her head and looks down at her sword. "Whoa! How did I do that?!" Curiosity glimmers for a brief moment, but is soon swept aside by the tide of Mirri's battle frenzy. "WOOHOO, shiny sword power! I'm gonna get you for freezing me, undead! DIE!" The giant catfolk delicately steps to her right- a mere half step at her present size- and brings her sword down on the fell creature currently facing off with the Hero of Brevoy.


AWESOME! :smallbiggrin: Not that I expect it to happen again this encounter, but still! Awesome!

Move 5 ft to the right and use my Large reach to hit the undead at P27. Full attack!

Attack (longsword): [roll0] (+2 favored enemy, +2 rage, +1 accurate stance, +1 bless, +1 enlarge person)

Damage (longsword): [roll1] (+2 favored enemy, +2 rage, +1 enlarge person)

Attack (short sword): [roll2] (modifiers as above, note that short sword is cold iron and not magical)

Damage (short sword): [roll3]

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The UnderHollow Escape

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 3

The Frozen Ground
The ground is frozen solid and covered with jagged blades of rime and frost, while also being unreasonably slippery:
Moving at half speed or slower posses no risk, however;
-When making a 5ft Step, characters must make succeed a DC12 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving at full speed characters must succeed a DC15 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving above normal speed characters must succeed a DC18 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-Creatures who fall prone sustain 1d6+3 Points of Piercing and Cold Damage as the jagged ice-blades pierce them.




The fight had begun to unfold in full. At the entrance the Captain and the others fought back a wave of vicious shadows which crawled up from the decaying floorboards. With a mighty blow Lucian unleashed a devastating strike which shed sparks of magical light crushing the creature into black mist. Denise prepared some manner of magic, blue light beginning to flash from the end of her staff - a pair of the creatures descended upon her, only to catch the Venture-Captain's blade. One of the murky spirits split in two vanishing from sight as the cleric completed her ritual. She slammed down her staff to the ground unleashing a massive mote of sapphire light. The creature before her was smote in a blinding display. Yet, the spell was far from finished. A strange - perhaps familiar blue specter skipped through the blinding display. With each foot that touched the floor a well of brilliant power ripped its way into existence, banishing the ice and frost while purifying the souls while lingered too close to the sanctified ground. The wells of blue light raced across the entire tavern...



Efrance pointed towards the western side as enemies came upon them, "Watch out!" The group pushed forward slowly making their way towards their own escape. The creatures ahead hissed, and the rimewalker gnashed its broken teeth in mischievous glee. The swordmaster, already covered in ice, slid forward to strike the creature with a jarring thrust. The image of the familiar specter danced past them leaving trails of luminous light shimmering from the ground before vanishing. Ahead an advancing shadow was caught within the divine spectacle and exploded into white vapor.

Mirri lashed out with her large sword while advancing towards the shadow Efrance had not felled. Her long reach reared out and slashed into the ghostly figure sending dark shadowstuff into the air, but the creature was far from defeated. It lunged forward to Mili with its shadowy hands. The claws ripped into the masked fighter's skin with light stealing energy. [Mili Takes: [roll0] Points of Strength Damage]

Mirri's dex is reduced by her size, but does not have Combat Reflexes in either case. She may make an AoO versus either the shadow attacking Mili, the shadow which will be attacking herself, or the one attacking Khellan

Khellan pressed forward while nocking a blunt headed arrow. There creature's weren't skeletons, but he hoped it would still prove somewhat effective. He stood at the ready as the creatures begun to press in upon them. It didn't take long to see it, they would be trapped within a pincer if they didn't press forward. He leveled his bow at the undead creature in the distance. If only he could clear a path. He felt like he couldn't miss, the battle obscured his aim, only granting him passing glimpses of his target. A strangle flicker of a dim green glow begun to tip the end of his arrow - at first he thought it simply a trick of the light cast by Bridgeman's divine spell. Then it begun to intensify. Small dots of green energy, like a horde of fireflies begun to draw towards the weapon's end until the arrow became a solid shaft of energy. A glyph of juniper colored energy manifest before his bow like an aiming rectal - or window. Through it, everything seemed to move in ultra slow motion, projecting where those before him would be moving. A second glyph of sage-colored energy formed over the first, made of two separated sides that slowly approached its center like a closing maw. "Release when they both meet..." Someone stood beside him, a white ghostly image of an elf. Her image replicated his own, brandishing a bow of light - her features were muddled and vague, as she was made only of some eerie white glow. Her garb was strange, perhaps ancient, wearing a billowing cloak and nearly a dozen scarves masking her lower jaw like a muffler. The two seals met. He loosed the missile. The bolt exploded off the bows riser with concusive super-sonic force. It danced through the air, sharply zig-zagging. Bonding off the ground between Renka's legs, over Mirri's head, and cascading down to strike the Rimewalker he couldn't see. An explosion of emerald light shook the ground then imploded into a massive twister of gale-force shimmering flames that through Efrance backwards through the air. The green cyclonic rift ended as abruptly as it begun leaving nothing in its wake except violent splatters and a scarred floor. A name filled his mind... The Emerald Gale. It sounded somewhat familiar. (DC20 Local/History)

He didn't have long to think, the creature's from the otherside of the tavern where already upon them. A shadowy creature crashed into him with lashing claws. Without a thought, the elf nimbly evaded the attack. However, one of the creatures was already upon Mirri clawing with its wicked hands. Mirri Takes: [roll1] Points of Strength Damage


Aegisir Discoveries

With each experience, each challenge and time traveled - Aegisir gain strange and unique powers which span across the bounds of time.


As The Pathfinder's become more accomplished Aegisir, they will unlock new abilities known as Discoveries. Each Discovery will grant strange unique abilities that must be mastered to pave the road to victory during battle with other Aegisir. Learning a Discovery only grants the ability to use the Discovery, but not knowledge of how it is used, triggered, or what it may do. Discoveries often possess a number of uses unique to Aegisir and their duels. Discoveries are shared among The Pathfinders, however, each individual only possesses a small number of Discoveries which they may choose to learn at one time. They may choose to learn a previously gained Discovery when they possess the necessary Discovery Teachings.

Discovery Teachings: Teachings function similarly to feat slots, and are used to select which Discoveries you currently know. Some Discoveries require more then one Teaching to learn. Teachings used to select a Discovery cannot be changed later, however new Teachings may be spent to learn past acquired Discoveries. Discoveries are not able to be learned until after Aegisir have unearthed the nature of their function.


BATTLE MAP

Holy Circles: These spaces have been cleared of ice, and therefore allow you to move freely through them.



http://i.imgur.com/cl1ZlqQ.jpg



http://i.imgur.com/N0fAKih.jpg


http://i.imgur.com/mY2XZlQ.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

Scrambling away from the approaching shadow, Aisolyn moves to the ice-free safety of one of the wells of blue light. We can make a stand here, I hope.

Focusing her mind and power, she directs a bolt of force towards one of the undead radiating cold. Best to damage it now before it gets too close.

Move Action: Half-speed move through V24 (10ft equivalent; AoO trigger?). Then moving into U25 (5ft). If the table isn't too difficult to get around, the remaining movement is spent going into T25 (5ft).
Standard Action: She casts Magic Missile targeting the Rimewalker in S20. Damage [roll0].

[Phasm]

Mirri lets out an ear-piercing indignant yowl as the shadow saps her strength, rather like an exceptionally large housecat that just got its tail stepped on. Hissing, she spins around to face her attacker and lashes out with her sword. Then she slashes at it again, and once more with her shortsword for good measure.


I can finally do a full TWF attack without risking a fall! Huzzah!

AoO vs. R23: [roll0] (+2 favored enemy, +2 rage, +1 accurate stance, +1 bless, +1 enlarge person, -1 Str)

TWF attack (longsword): [roll1]

Damage (longsword): [roll2] (+2 favored enemy, +2 rage, +1 enlarge person, -1 Str)

TWF attack (short sword): [roll3]

Damage (short sword): [roll4]

[Khosan]

It was an odd sensation. Feeling some of her life force being taken from her. There was no real physical pain, just the sudden realization that everything was heavier than it had been a moment ago and a newfound need to focus on her breathing. She might not have noticed it if she wasn't looking for something to occupy her mind other than thoughts of the nearby flames.

Mili takes a deep breath in, dancing to the side of the shadow creature, just before her blade darts out towards the little black beast.

Move Action: To Q28
Standard Action: Mili attacks the shadow at Q27, [roll0], [roll1]

[Mokou-tan]

Renka smiles a bit as she notices the areas free of danger. I can probably make the jumps needed here... I've trained for this kind of movement! The cat-like woman makes a quick step to the side, ending up along the other side of the table and closes her eyes. After a moment of focus, she channels her Ki into her legs before making her jump. After her jump, she quickly steps to the edge of the second safe zone and makes another leap towards E'france.

Renka is going to take a move action for all her movement, a swift action to increase her move speed to 50ft by spending a Ki point and her standard action for Total Defense to bring her AC up to 23. First, to T25[5ft] then a jump to Q25[15ft]. No roll should be required as her bonus due to the increased movement speed is +16, surpassing the DC of said jump as she still has Ki in her pool, allowing her to ignore the penalty for no running start. Her movement continues forward with a step to P25[5ft], a leap to M25[20ft] and a step to M26[5ft, totaling 50ft].
[roll0] Jump 20 feet having a DC of 20.
[roll1] Reflex in case of failed secondary jump. The only limitation on jumps is that you cannot use them to exceed your total speed in a round.

[flat_footed]

Stunned, Khellan stares at his bow in wonder. If ever there was a moment for his arrow to fly true, this was it. The Emerald Gale... Trying to steady himself once again in such a short time, Khellan takes a half step forward just in time to feel something slide along his back as the shadow narrowly misses him. Bracing himself, Khellan looks back and sees the immediate path clear. He steps gingerly over the ice once again, breathing a sigh of relief once he reaches a spot where the ice has been banished. Risking a glance further, he sees Fa'uka safely on a table and out of harm, at lease for the moment. A small smile graces his lips. We may survive this yet! Readying his bow once again, Khellan thinks of what may have triggered her assistance before, calling out softly. May your grace guide my arrow as a leaf on the wind.

Half Speed move to T25, shooting another blunt arrow at Rimewalker 1.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The UnderHollow Escape

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 4

The Frozen Ground
The ground is frozen solid and covered with jagged blades of rime and frost, while also being unreasonably slippery:
Moving at half speed or slower posses no risk, however;
-When making a 5ft Step, characters must make succeed a DC12 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving at full speed characters must succeed a DC15 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving above normal speed characters must succeed a DC18 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-Creatures who fall prone sustain 1d6+3 Points of Piercing and Cold Damage as the jagged ice-blades pierce them.



With deft steps and agility Renka skipped through the convenient clearings in the ice, crossing the magically charged ground. Behind her she could hear combat erupt behind her - while combat broke at the entrance as the Captain and her team defeated the creatures which advanced upon them.

Mili danced to the side of the ghostly creature as it lashed out. Slipping upon the ice, her movement was short, the dark claw dug into her, she could feel her body run cold as her life essence was drained from her body. [Mili: Strength Damage: 3 Points] Her limbs numbed and became heavy, but she pressed on, pressing forward with her sword at creature's flank. Her sword was engulfed in sapphire flame. A name echoed through her mind, images of a young woman clad in fine deep blue silks and finery. Her glass-steel bastard sword gleamed with shimmering flames of the brightest blue. Fran'dal. Her blade came crashing forward, the light piercing the creatures body in a pulse of glaring light and flame exploding outward in a massive gout of purifying fire. [Mirri recovers all Strength Damage]

The flames washed aside as Khellan attempted to dive back from the creature which now fell upon him with violent claws. Too late. He fell back into a roll as the beast ripped into him. He staggered backwards upon his feet. Black sludge beginning to run down his nose and from his mouth - too thick to be blood. The veins under his skin pushed up from under his flesh, violently pulsing with dark fluid, his skin now deathly pale. His world begun to spin, one eye lazily beginning to drift back into his skull. Everything about him was dark... he could distantly make out the shapes of those around him. He snapped out another arrow and fired it without even attempting to aim - the missile striking the creature squarely in the head and bounding off harmlessly to the floor. His legs begun to buckle under his body's own weight. Damn. He looked to Fa'uka. She'd be lonely without him... He could only hear the howl of the beasts as they came upon him. Then. Nothing...

Aisolyn watched the elf fall as he was buffeted beneath a vicious assault of freezing rime from the undead creature and mauled terribly by the shadowy creature which continued to hack away at his fallen body. His skin beginning to blacken. she could feel some overwhelming force fill her, tainting her arcane energy until it crackled with a vicious discharge from her hands. Her hair begun to rise about her as gravity distorted and lifted her from the frozen ground. The air around her hand twisted with a strange aura of power until all light about her crashed in-ward to her palm leaving only the abyssal blackness of the distant reaches of space. The orb of hyper-condensed light formed of sphere of blinding white light as if she held a star. She cast her hand forward, the light-sphere exploded forth with concussive force erupting into a massive blast of wild spectrum's of color and light beyond even that which the eye could see. The warm luminescence washed over them sweeping aside the rimewalker and the shadow beside it. A name echoed in her mind, Adessa.

Mirri's blade passed through the creature a moment before it was swept away by the blast of rainbow light. The body of their ally begun to writhe upon the ground, the elf's skin quickly darkening to the shade of pitch and tar as if some taint violated his body...

Khellan fell through a void of utter darkness. There was no pain. No sound. He... It. He could not recall who he'd been, or how he'd lived. There was nothing beyond the void. Perhaps he'd be something, someone, once - somewhere. Now he was nothing. A cosmic multi-hued light dimly seeped into the rift. A voice spoke out, one he could not recognize. "...Now only pain awaits you. Only suffering. If you would remember. If you would bring ruin, and share your burden - then rise. Struggle. That perhaps you may be made new."


Khellan has died. Reroll.

(Option 2)
However, some distant hope still remains. One founded upon the pain and suffering of those around you, and those you care for:

Blessing of Misfortune
Exposed to the tainted magic of the witch Adessa, you rise again. A vicious creature of misfortune clinging to life with the distant hope that perhaps one day you may exist again as you were. But those days are far from now. The darkness within you threatens to consume all you once loved, and your very presence harms those you once called ally, or friend.

- Reincarnate as a Darakhul (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/races/3rd-party-races/kobold-press/darakhul) named Khellan
- Darakhul Racial ability, Hunger for Flesh is replaced by; (Ex:) Hunger for Friend
- Khellan's alignment drops to CE any may not change while he remains a Darakhul
- All friendly or helpful creatures within a 30ft radius become nauseated for 1d4 hours, and must reroll all d20 rolls, taking the worse result. This effect persists until Khellan is no longer a Darakhul
- The Darakhul gains a touch attack which deals 1d6 points of Strength Damage
- The Darakhul gains constant Detect Good as the spell
- The Darakhul retains all memories he had in life

(Ex:) Hunger for Friend
The Darakhul struggles to resist accosting those closest to him. Each time the Darakhul is within 15ft of a friendly or helpful creature, he must succeed a DC20 Will Save or attack the creature, attempting to kill and consume them. He may attempt this save again upon every 1d6 Rounds. Additionally, the Darakhul must kill and consume one good-aligned humanoid each day, or the DC of his save to resist his compulsions increases by 5 for each day he has forgone this ritual. This ability otherwise functions identically to the Hunger for Flesh ability.





BATTLE MAP

http://i.imgur.com/WPHPs7W.jpg

[ArtichokeDip]

"Khellan!" Aisolyn screams as she watches her friend go down, skin blackening over with whatever shadow material the wraith infected him with.

With tears filling her eyes, she grits her teeth and pours her rage and grief into the stillness of her mind for her next spell. Adessa, was it? Friend or foe, god or demon, if your power will aid us then let it smite our enemies who would take everything from us!

A cone of brilliant shifting light washes over the shadow and the body of her former friend, a pale imitation of the colors that still dance in the back of her eyes. Twisting the spell with her psychic amplification, she targets the mind and hunger left in the shadow's undead body.

Backing past Fa'uka, Aisolyn's hand gently brushes her fur. "Don't follow him, girl. I couldn't stand if I lost you too..."

Standard Action: Casting Color Spray in a 15 ft cone affecting both Khellan and the shadow. Spending 2 phrenic points to activate Will of the Dead, allowing mind-affecting effects to affect undead.

Will save DC is 14.
If save is failed, targets are blinded and stunned for 1d4 rounds, then stunned an additional 1 round. (Assuming 3-4 HD. If 5+ HD, only stunned for 1 round.)

Move Action: Half-speed move going past Fa'uka (S26) to S27.

[flat_footed]

Darkness surrounded him. No, that wasn't right. It used to be right; him was who it was. It is who it was now.

There. A spark in the darkness. The spark was speaking to It, words of pain and suffering or words of hope and redemption. It could not tell which and It did not care. With the spark came the hunger. The hunger consumed all, devoured the spark's words from its mind as It now longed to devour flesh. The spark grew into a flame, diving into It. PAIN The flames surged through It's limbs, deepening shadows with malevolence. A sudden surge of arcane force shot through Khellan's body, illuminating the room as fading pink light oozed from the corpse.

Khellan's eyes snapped open, but It looked out.

[Khosan]

Mili staggers around after taking down the shadow, attempting to regain her balance but finding her legs not quite up to the task. On top of the ragged breathing and weakness she'd noticed before (now significantly worse), she now felt the same feebleness bearing down on her heart. Her heart began to beat far more rapidly than it ever had before but much more weakly than she felt it reasonably should.

She stumbles over to one of the blue sigils on the ground, immediately setting to work 'righting' her balance. Right now, more than anything, she surmises as she detaches her buckler from her arm and drops her pack, we need our wits and our balance. Standing straight once more, she takes another deep breath. She could see - between Mirri's comparatively gargantuan calves - the one shadow and...Khellan's body, writhing on the floor. We can't let that shadow touch us or Aisolyn. Stand back, attack when unseen. Mili nods to herself, keeping her blade at the ready.

Move Action: Mili moves to Q26
Free Action: Mili drops her backpack and buckler
Standard Action: Mili readies an action to cast Vanish if a shadow gets within melee range of Aisolyn.

[Phasm]

"NOOOOOOOO!"

The terrible ecstasy of battle turns to a burning rage as Khellan goes down. His body blackens and warps in a way that tells Mirri he isn't coming back, not this side of a resurrection spell. Fangs bared, she yowls a wordless battle-cry and throws herself at the shadow mauling his fallen corpse. Blades flash with renewed strength, one slashing and one stabbing, as she screams her rage and grief to the world.


Did I say Mirri gets pleasure instead of rage from her barbarian class ability? Not when a friend is killed in front of her.

Attack (longsword): [roll0]

Damage (longsword): [roll1]

Attack (short sword): [roll2]

Damage (short sword): [roll3]

[Mokou-tan]

Renka quickly reaches both hands into her belt, slipping the dark grey metal blades onto each of her claws rapidly. Khellan's fallen... I can't just flee anymore... The ones this way aren't spirits, they have bodies. If it has a body, I should manage to fight against it. She took up an aggressive posture as her emotions got the better of her. "I'll avenge you, as best I can..."

Move action to equip Primal Iron Clawblades. Standard to ready an action to attack with a claw when an enemy gets too close.
[roll0] to hit, if needed
[roll1] damage, if needed.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The UnderHollow Escape

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 5

The Frozen Ground
The ground is frozen solid and covered with jagged blades of rime and frost, while also being unreasonably slippery:
Moving at half speed or slower posses no risk, however;
-When making a 5ft Step, characters must make succeed a DC12 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving at full speed characters must succeed a DC15 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving above normal speed characters must succeed a DC18 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-Creatures who fall prone sustain 1d6+3 Points of Piercing and Cold Damage as the jagged ice-blades pierce them.



The tide of the battle quickly turned in their favor, though Khellan had fallen. At the entrance the Captain had cleared the way and held her position driving back whatever sparse attacks filtered through to them. It seemed their escape had been all but assured. Efrance gestured to the entrance. "...Damn it all.... We need to press on, finish the ghost and leave the body. We don't know what this place might have done to it." He turned to Renka. "...Just keep moving."

Mirri unleashed a storm of powerful blows with he sword. The air howled and divided as he massive sword cleaved through the frozen interior. Her first strike ripped the arm from the creature and cut into the icy ground. A second vicious backhand took the specter's shadowy head from its shoulders to vanish in the air. Its body dissipated in a flash of black mist, but it was already too late for her friend.

Khellan's body writhed violently, then suddenly stilled. His skin had blackened to a deep pitch tar, wild fangs grew in his mouth. The agony of death filled his body and his mind was clouded with murderous violence and a consuming hunger. The memories came back to him, but he was not the same, he was something else. His hands spasmed as new and terrible dark urges corrupted his consciousness. His nose was filled with the sweet scent of warm flesh, a mouth watering sensation overcoming him. His eyes opened. He could see strange auras, around some of those about him, pushing him, compelling him to lash out and maim, murder and consume. Some energy far from his own. He was trapped within the body of some horrible beast, and the beast was in control.






Darakhul
Khellan has returned as a Darakhul.
Round 6, Khellan will be forced to take a Will Save for all friendly or helpful creatures within 15ft.
Additionally all friendly or helpful creatures within 15ft will become sicked. This effect is negated if the creatures become hostile.

- Reincarnate as a Darakhul (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/races/3rd-party-races/kobold-press/darakhul) named Khellan
- Darakhul Racial ability, Hunger for Flesh is replaced by; (Ex:) Hunger for Friend
- Khellan's alignment drops to CE any may not change while he remains a Darakhul
- All friendly or helpful creatures within a 30ft radius become nauseated for 1d4 hours, and must reroll all d20 rolls, taking the worse result. This effect persists until Khellan is no longer a Darakhul
- The Darakhul gains a touch attack which deals 1d6 points of Strength Damage
- The Darakhul gains constant Detect Good as the spell
- The Darakhul retains all memories he had in life

(Ex:) Hunger for Friend
The Darakhul struggles to resist accosting those closest to him. Each time the Darakhul is within 15ft of a friendly or helpful creature, he must succeed a DC20 Will Save or attack the creature, attempting to kill and consume them. He may attempt this save again upon every 1d6 Rounds. Additionally, the Darakhul must kill and consume one good-aligned humanoid each day, or the DC of his save to resist his compulsions increases by 5 for each day he has forgone this ritual. This ability otherwise functions identically to the Hunger for Flesh ability.





BATTLE MAP

http://i.imgur.com/NajQjMd.jpg

[Khosan]

"We..." Mili pauses, eyes glued to Khellan, "Leave him. We might be able to save him, but not now. We need time." She coils her tail around her equipment on the ground and drags it along with her toward the entrance.

Pausing once more, she turns back and offers the former elf a few encouraging words, "Khellan, buddy, if you're still in there - Try to find a safe place to stay. We'll find you. We'll fix you. I swear it."

Map is a little zoomed in, but Mili moves about as far north as she can without risking a fall. About 9 squares worth of movement gets her to about H27? I think. Assuming there's nothing else hazardous in her way.

[ArtichokeDip]

"Mirri, we're pulling back. I don't know if Khellan is dead or just possessed, but it's something I haven't heard of before. Don't turn your back on him. He might not fight us, but if he follows... we might not have a choice."

Moving towards E'France, Aisolyn touches Fa'uka gently as she passes. "Come girl, we don't know if he even remembers you anymore."

Hurrying as she enters the area cleared of ice, Aisolyn calls out to E'France. "Dalmon, Khellan was downed, but that doesn't mean he's gone for good. If we can think of some way to save him..."

Move Action: Half-speed movement through R26, then full-speed up to P26.
Move Action: Full-speed movement up to L26 (or M26 if Renka moves out of it).

[Phasm]

Save him? Save him! The hope in those words manages to percolate through Mirri's rage. She takes a good look at the floor between herself and Efrance- specifically, the ice-free areas- then turns back to not-Khellan and bares her fangs. "Try to hurt any of us, and I will end you. But if you don't hurt us... I will do as Mili and Aisolyn ask and leave you alone." With that the giant barbarian delicately steps into the closest ring of blue fire, then into the cleared area behind Efrance and Renka.


Move to L26-N27 by way of the blue fire ring.

[Mornings]

Part I: Time As Abjection
The UnderHollow Escape

Lamashan the 11th, Toliday - 10:29 PM / AR 4711
Capital of Ustalav; The City of Caliphas
Ashtown; Somewhere on Lantern Street

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Maps/Haraday%20Theater/Capture%20encounter_zpsiyiwin8h.png

Round 6

The Frozen Ground
The ground is frozen solid and covered with jagged blades of rime and frost, while also being unreasonably slippery:
Moving at half speed or slower posses no risk, however;
-When making a 5ft Step, characters must make succeed a DC12 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving at full speed characters must succeed a DC15 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-When moving above normal speed characters must succeed a DC18 Reflex Save or fall prone.
-Creatures who fall prone sustain 1d6+3 Points of Piercing and Cold Damage as the jagged ice-blades pierce them.






Darakhul
Khellan has returned as a Darakhul.
Round 6, Khellan will be forced to take a Will Save for all friendly or helpful creatures within 15ft.
Additionally all friendly or helpful creatures within 15ft will become sicked. This effect is negated if the creatures become hostile.

- Reincarnate as a Darakhul (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/races/3rd-party-races/kobold-press/darakhul) named Khellan
- Darakhul Racial ability, Hunger for Flesh is replaced by; (Ex:) Hunger for Friend
- Khellan's alignment drops to CE any may not change while he remains a Darakhul
- All friendly or helpful creatures within a 30ft radius become nauseated for 1d4 hours, and must reroll all d20 rolls, taking the worse result. This effect persists until Khellan is no longer a Darakhul
- The Darakhul gains a touch attack which deals 1d6 points of Strength Damage
- The Darakhul gains constant Detect Good as the spell
- The Darakhul retains all memories he had in life

(Ex:) Hunger for Friend
The Darakhul struggles to resist accosting those closest to him. Each time the Darakhul is within 15ft of a friendly or helpful creature, he must succeed a DC20 Will Save or attack the creature, attempting to kill and consume them. He may attempt this save again upon every 1d6 Rounds. Additionally, the Darakhul must kill and consume one good-aligned humanoid each day, or the DC of his save to resist his compulsions increases by 5 for each day he has forgone this ritual. This ability otherwise functions identically to the Hunger for Flesh ability.

The Pathfinders bounded forward away from the writhing corpse of their friend. Perhaps he had simply died and become a creature... or perhaps it was something else entirely. The flesh of the elf's hands split and darkened becoming wicked claws of darkness. His hair grayed then whitened until it was as stark as a dark elf's mane. His jaw sharply opened and snapped closed in a frothing fit as the spasm or fit ended. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen - his eyes radiated with a violet glow as he was pulled up, chest first from the ground like some soulless doll and placed upon his feet. Efrance's left eye visibly flinched looking at the twisted spectacle, "....Aw hell. It's time to get the hell out of here! That's not something to fix." The Pathfinders ran through the circles of blue light and across the ice-free space to catch up to Efrance, but before they could advance, more strange creatures were upon them.. and one they had never seen before. One of the beasts the swordmaster referred to as a Hoarspirit. A whirl of ice spun about the creature and its hands ended in talons of crystal. In the distance the Captain and Bishop held the door defeating the creatures which attempted to overwhelm them, but such was not the case for Denise.

The circles beneath them erupted into wells of violet light as the short priest danced across the beacons of energy with unnatural speed as if she were gliding across the air. With a final leap she came crashing down. Pillars of explosive purple-hued light enveloped the air about them as a whirl of familiar dancing butterflies forged from some obscure energy manifested about them surrounding the creatures. With a spinning whirl of her familiar staff she spun about as if in a curt dance. The whimsical creatures lashed out with swiftly striking passes, crashing through the undead creatures and veiling them in burning light where they thrashed and hissed in terrible fury, yet were frozen in place. She smiled gingerly at them as the beasts were held at bay.


http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f7/DreadfulMorning/Apotheosis%20of%20the%20Sleepless/Untitled_zpsm5xbyx8u.png

The world seemed to be shrouded in living darkness.. Even here there was no light, yet everything was different. Shapes and shadow created tangible frames of monochrome malediction, his body was wracked by agonizing pain. A hunger unlike any he'd felt before, one that threatened to run wild and rip his body apart. Yet, a strange sensation dwelt below this, pulses of 'light', in some spectrum he'd never seen - not a luminescence, but an energy. It smelled.... It tasted. The experience set his mouth to water, drool running down his chin like some half-starved beast. It was.... light. It was something which radiated from those.... creatures he could recognize. Not all of them, but most. It was everything he was not. All he could never have. He craved it. He had to possess it. Destroy it. Consume it. His hands violently twitched, as if his own body were compelled to follow a will all its own. A soft and pleasant voice filled him, something natural yet arcane.... She. It. This world, spoke to him in some voiceless gesture. Eat.


BATTLE MAP


http://i.imgur.com/Ula52no.jpg


http://i.imgur.com/aPOj0JJ.jpg













Denise Bridgeman

http://imgur.com/HI4sfFu.jpg[/img]

[Mokou-tan]

Renka lets out a growl, but heeds E'france's words, making more sudden leaps across the safe areas. There was no wasted movement in her actions, even as every fiber of her being told her to strike at the stunned undead as she passed.

Double Move Action. Jump to I25(DC10) [roll0], step to H25, Jump to F24(DC10) [roll1], continue walking to A21.

[Phasm]

Not save Khellan? Mirri growls, but then the frosty undead that Efrance called a rimewalker catches her attention. It's between her friends and the door, which is completely unacceptable. The enormous feline steps delicately around Aisolyn, planting herself between the spellcaster and the rimewalker. "DIE!" She swings at the creature with her longsword.


Move half speed to J27-K28 and attack the rimewalker. I'm not sure if that gets me frozen or not, but regardless Mirri is going to try and clear the way.

Attack: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1]

[ArtichokeDip]

"Mirri, let's get out of here before we're trapped between them and Khellan. Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor."

Closing her eyes and concentrating, Aisolyn lets her inner power fill her mind, then channels it into her body, making her legs vastly more powerful than they were before.

Turning to the side, she says, "Fa'uka, come with me, girl. We can't afford to stay here any longer."

Using her enhanced speed, Aisolyn rushes towards the safety of the exit, skirting the reach of the frozen spirits and their aura of cold.

Standard Action: Casting Expeditious Retreat (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/expeditious-retreat), increasing movement speed by +30.
Move Action: Move to K26 (5 ft), J25 (half-speed; 20 ft), I25 (5ft), H24 (half-speed; 10 ft), H23 (half-speed; 10 ft).

[Khosan]

Fire or ice, Mili shudders, wonderful. One would revive some old mental scars, the other create some new physical ones. Between the two, she opts for the cold. At least those wounds could be healed. Mustering another deep breath, she pushes herself into the icy maelstrom, bag of equipment in tow. Once out, she offers a quick nod to Denise and weakly slides her bag her way before whipping herself around and planting her blade in the undead's back.

Move Action: Mili moves to F25, going straight north to G26 before moving diagonally to F25
Free Action: Mili once again drops her backpack and buckler, getting her back to a light load
Standard Action: Mili attacks the Hoarspirit at G25, [roll0], [roll1]

[flat_footed]

Khellan surveyed the spectacle around him. Each glittering light was more mouthwatering than the last and the hunger lashed at every thought. As his eyes adjusted, he realized the flickering images were getting further away from him. A glance down at his feet sparked a memory and a cruel grin spread across his face. Khellan's feet slowly shuffled across the floor, mimicking the glowing form's passage. With a rasping breath, a familiar voice spoke softly through an unfamiliar accent.
"Fa'uka."
Fa'uka's ears perked up, swiveling as if she couldn't quite catch the words right. She whined plaintively, pawing at her ears as if to remove an obstruction.
"Fa'uka!"
Her lupine form takes an immediate step forward as training outpaced her senses. These were the right words. The right intonations, but the voice was wrong. The smells were wrong. A savage growl burst forth as a warning and Fa'uka's thick fur stood on end. Her eyes looked around in a frenzy as she was torn between the voice and her own instincts.

At Aisolyn's words, Fa'uka's maw snaps violently at the outstretched hand, savage instinct taking over.

Half move to R25. Ready an action to grab anything that comes close.