Spookables III (IC)

[Illiterate Scribe]

December 26th, 1332

- and thus, be bound, and do not stray beyond the confines of that which was set for you, respecting the authority laid down by me, your master, by sorcery far older than you, pre-existent, pre-ordained by the Seal of the Seven Signs.

A book slams shut.

There, I believe that should do the trick. There are two more verses of binding, but I would disagree with the author of this book -

The book opens again. You see, though blurred vision, a regally robed figure leafing through it, and then making a furious marginal note.

- such extraneities are necessary only for those summoning powerful entities.

The figure comes into view more clearly, along with his surroundings. He is a tall-ish rakshasa, in what would appear to be late middle age, judging by the lengths of his expressive eyebroews, and wears a fine orange-red robe, stitched with elaborate gold thread. A large and weighty tome dangles from a hand - those hands - with an air of bored and slightly frustrated nonchalance. Looking closer, however, you can see that the image projected by the tiger-like humanoid is a slightly ersatz one - the gold thread looks more like brass than anything else, and dirt and grime encrust his fingernails and matt his fur. A cursory effort has been made to hide this, using elaborate, slightly putrefying, ambergris-based concotions, but, to be honest, this doesn't exactly help.

You may be wondering why I gated you in here. Don't, because that's not your place. Arda seeks advice for the coming ... difficulties, and I personally would like to be the one to provide it. I've gathered - oh, a fairly disparate group of spirits - tell me what you know about the movements of the 1st Erdzheni Spellguard. Have they moved from the 18th parallel yet?

[dyslexicfaser]

Mosp

The gargantuan black-and-gray war machine towers over the rakshasa, 11 feet and 2400 pounds of thick metal plates in an oddly simian shape. It stares at the figure in silence for a few moments. It could be considering what the rakshasa would look like crushed like a grape beneath its feet, or it could be thinking about the perfect way to bake a batch of cookies. It's face gives nothing away. Finally, it speaks in a rumbling voice so deep it almost hurts the ears to hear it. "Mosp knows nothing.. of such things."

Without another word, the conjured creature - using the term 'creature' loosely - turns, ignoring its summoner, and begins a circuit of the area in which it was summoned, etching it into its considerable memory.

[The_Snark]

Karais

The figure in the second circle bears some resemblance to an angel. Tall and shapely, she has pale skin, dark hair, and black-feathered wings. That last, along with red irises, almost certainly marks her as a fallen angel, but she might still be considered beautiful despite that...

... except that her skin is coated in what almost looks like sweat, slowly weeping some sickly fluid. No being would sweat so much, except perhaps while in the grip of a fever. Her hair is damp and glistening with the substance, her wings bedraggled, and both her black breastplate and the deeo violet-and-black robes she wears under it are soaked, the latter clinging to her skin and the former dotted with condensation. Even through the warding circle, a smell permeates the air; sweet, but far too sweet, sickeningly so, like the cloying smell of rotting fruit. Her lovely features bear an expression of disinterest, and—slowly, as if the movement were paining her—she raises her head to look at first the circle that binds her, and then at the summoner.

"I live to serve and obey, master," she says in a dreary tone that conveys that, while she might eventually be able to think of something else that she would not prefer over this, it would not be worth the immense expenditure of time and effort that it would take for her to think of such an unenthralling activity. Her eyes wander back to the floor, and she says nothing more.

[playswithfire]

Matari

The young woman dressed something like a middle eastern belly dancer arrived in the circle spinning slowly, as if interrupted in the middle of a dance, two unopened fans held loosely in her hands. Her step falters as she realizes her change in location and hears the Rakasha's words. With a slight tremor in her voice, she responds I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a loss. I neither know who you are nor have any idea of whom you speak. With a brief glance at her companions, she continues Please, sir, for what purpose have I been brought here along with such... Another quick look at the rakasha halts that sentence, replacing it with one in a much calmer tone. Never mind, if you've summoned me here, you know what I am and there's no need to pretend I'm not. But I was telling the truth when I said I know nothing about what you're talking about; I would like to be enlightened, though, for what reason I was removed from the pleasant evening I had planned. The wings and horns that had begun to sprout when she said 'what I am' complete their growth, leaving Matari's true succubus form visible to those present.

[Axelgear]

Karkal the Wretched

A fourth figure arrives after all the others, this one arising seemingly from a shadow. Pitch black and wrapped in a cloak of the same colour, it appears to be a moving shadow. He doesn't speak and doesn't even seem to move, just rising in the middle of the summoning area, looking like a piece of darkness made manifest, a presence of abhorrent and terrible nature surrounding him. In that shadow of a being is every unspoken fear, every whispered terror, and every nameless haunt that has been waiting around every corner and in every dark passageway.

"If you expect answers, I suggest you look elsewhere. I have none for you or anyone else." His words ring darkly, echoing within the minds of those that hear him in a way that seems specifically done to induce fear.

When he is done talking, the shadow raises its head. His face remains hidden except for his lower jaw. His chin is pallid, a terrible pale colour that turns to an ever more terrifying grey with red tinges mixed in that forms a horrible pink, a lipless mouth filled with long, filed teeth that seem unnaturally sharp extending from it. Along where the skin changes colour, black stitching lines it, telling that the deformity is deliberate, but not by whose hand it was caused.

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

A fifth man arrives, if the word "man" is loose enough to include the incorporeal. His ghostly attire is quite gentlemanly, including a tucked-in white dress shirt, a bow tie, and a black top hat. In his left hand he holds a teacup, as if he was somewhow in the middle of drinking from it when he was summoned.

He gestures with his left arm, teacup in hand. "I'm afraid I can't help you. I have no knowledge of the... recent movements of that squadron." His voice is polite, but something about it seems inexplicably abnormal.

[Uncle Festy]

A hunched-over old man stands in one of the circles. He wears a green robe with golden trimming. He appears weak and helpless, but his eyes betray the lie of his guise - bright blue, they glow with power beyond comprehension. "Would you mind telling me where I am? I have business to attend to back at the Academy."
He blinks, and the eyes change to an orange-red. "No you don't. You got kicked out of the Academy two years ago."
The eyes turn blue again. "Well, it just so happens that the business is planning to get my position back."
Back to orange again. "What? That makes no sense whatsoever!"
Blue. "So?"
The eyes now change to a different color - black. "Ugh. You two bicker like old ladies."
"He called me old!"
"He called me a lady!"
"Well, it's not my fault that it's -"
The man seems to be cut off in mid sentence, as his eyes shift to a catlike green. "I apologize for that. Olar and Darch'kan tend to bicker whenever they're tired, or hungry, or grumpy, or bored - in other words, all the time." As he speaks, his form melts away, changing to the catlike form of a Rakshasa. "But of course. Where are my manners? Zazzin, at your service - apparently, anyways. Now, despite Olar's bickering, he asked a legitimate question. What, exactly, am I doing here?" He infuses his last words with power, attempting to ascertain the answer to his question directly from his host's mind.
((Detect Thoughts, Will DC 23 resist))

[Iethloc]

Azatoc

In another one of the circles, a green glow manifested. Soon it formed into to the shape of a...floating brain. As if that weren't strange enough, a crystal on the end of a necklace floated not below it, as transparent as its owner. It floated in place, occasionally bobbing up and down, changing from green to blue to red once in a while, as if indecisive. "Nope, I don't know anything about that," he responded, almost playfully. He pondered for a few moments about what else he knew. "I CAN, however, tell you about mountains. Don't you like mountains? I like mountains..." he began rambling, but quickly caught himself. He shook his incorporeal self and adjust his posture. "Sorry, sometimes I ramble. Was that all for which you summoned me?" he rectified.

Azatoc looked around for a few moments, but it looked to all of the world as if he just spun around in place. "Waaaaaait a minute..." he said. He let that note hanging for a few moments as he turned towards his summoner. "You don't think I'm powerful?" he asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

[Illiterate Scribe]

OoC: Kerakh's (although you don't know his name; he's far too smart to tell you that :smalltongue:) will save vs. Zazzyn's detect thoughts - [roll0].

The Rakshasa pauses in stunned silence, momentarily taken back at the wall of incredulity that he has met with.

Are you saying that ... you aren't experts on the matters of statecraft that I summoned? I ... that's frustrating.


He gets up, and begins pacing back and forth, weaving in and out of the various summoning circles laid out on the ground. Rakshasa, you note, are remarkably good at pacing. After a short period of thought, he stops, and grimaces ashamedly.

Oh well - evidently the gods have decreed this to be a visit of pleasure rather than business. Do you mind if I take the opportunity to whine? Of course not - even if you did, it's not exactly as if you are going anywhere, a fact that I sincerely apologise for - mountains, dances, and wherever that teacup came from may have to wait.


As I'm sure you're aware, we're on the verge of war - in fact, within the next six hours, I expect that we'll be hearing its declaration. I had hoped -

He smiles ruefully.

- to be the one to have compiled a preliminary intelligence dossier on the situation there, but that looks, I fear to be impossible. I will most likely be overtaken and beaten to it by an 'ally', or some do-gooder claiming to be working for the benefit of the -

Roll a DC 30 reflex save (incorporeals too). Yes, you read me right. :smallamused:

[playswithfire]

Reflex Save [roll0]; EDIT: Darn

[dyslexicfaser]

Mosp

Mosp lets the more intelligent aspect - its higher brain functions, if you will, housed in the docent in its chest cavity - follow along with the pacing rakshasa, while its lesser sentience measured the length and breadth of its prison. Experimentally, it poked at the edges of the circle with the tip of its upper appendages, each of which ended in a long, bladed weapon.

Obviously, Mosp isn't going to be making a reflex throw of that calibre: [roll0]

[The_Snark]

Reflex [roll0]

So, wait; effects by the summoned creatures can cross the summoning circles? Did the rakshasa mess that up somehow? You'd think that preventing devils from dominating you would be fairly desirable...

[Illiterate Scribe]

Reflex [roll0]

So, wait; effects by the summoned creatures can cross the summoning circles? Did the rakshasa mess that up somehow? You'd think that preventing devils from dominating you would be fairly desirable...

Well, as you can see, he got sold a fairly shoddy spell - he's relying, should anyone identify it with a DC 35 spellcraft check, on some contingent nastiness.

[Uncle Festy]

Zazzin curses at his failed Detect attempt. He ignores his fellow Rakshasa's rant, and says, "Olar. Do you have any clue what spell he's using?"
The eyes turn blue. "Perhaps. Let me see... hmm, I do belive he is -"
Zazzin cuts off mid sentence, as his eyes turn black. "Incoming!" he shouts. His flesh warps again. He is now a tall, agile man with shoulder-length black hair, and (you guessed it) a concealing black cloak. He leaps, in an attempt to dodge whatever is attacking him.
[roll0]
[roll1]
((EDIT: Crud. Rolled Know-Arcana instead of Spellcraft. But they still have the same modifiers, so it should be fine.
Oh, and those were some horrible rolls. Yeesh.))

[Axelgear]

Not likely to succeed, but... [roll0]. Also, would a Knowledge (Arcana) or Knowledge (Religion) reveal anything? And I forgot to put it in but Karkal has SR 25, in case that matters.

In case it matters:

Knowledge (Arcana): [roll1]
Knowledge (Religion): [roll2]

Edit: Oy, a 1... 1 in 10 chances of succeeding and it's the 1 that comes up... :smallamused:

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons


Reflex Save: [roll0]
Emmons has evasion.

EDIT: Sweet. As for the teacup, it's how I plan to roleplay draining emotions.

[Iethloc]

[roll0] Not likely to make it, even if he had his buffs up. At least his Psicrystal... [roll1] has a better chance, and evasion. Neither have ranks in spellcraft.


So close!

[elkhantar]

Skavress

Another humanoid stands in other of the circles. His skin is deep green, almost black, and he sports incredibly long, blood-soaked claws in his hands. As he appeared, you could see him clawing on the air, as if he was in the middle of a fight. When his eyes focused, he said nothing but a defiant, unintelligible roar RORAKSHAAAAAARGH! before the raksasha spoke for the second time.

reflex save:[roll0] add +10 if it's a spell/spell-like effect. And Skavress does have improved evasion :smallsmile:

[Threeshades]

A small elephant of a length hardly as much as a halfling appears in another empty circle. The little golden furred elephant seems to be wearing a breastplate and on his back between a pair of insect like wings sits a curved sword in a sheath.
It looks around its eyebrows cramped with annoyance as it musters his sudden new company.
"Who summoned the mighty Butterphant to smite these vile cratures?!"

[Lord_Asmodeus]

Beside the flitting elephant creature appears a somewhat being, with skin of deep purple which could be described as oily, if "slimy" were not far more fitting.
Its head has is large in the back, where its brain is, but for a face it just has a number of large tentacles and its eyes were milky white, as if it were blind, though any competent onlooker would quickly dismiss this notion as absurd. It wore a long black robe, that seemed to shift like the sheer blackness of the void, but if this was a result of the fabric used or magic it was almost impossible to tell. Its hands were clawed, but they were un-calloused and perfectly clean, it was unlikely creature used them often, if ever. Its feet were invisible, and it appeared to float above the ground, with its robe hanging down to drape lightly on the floor. Here stood, or floated, a mighty Illithid, it cast its eyes about and its mind-voice intoned in the heads of all the creatures assembled Who has brought me here and interrupted my studies. What purpose could there be to disturb a creature like me? it asked, its mind keen to detect the lies of anyone who responded.

I'm going to use Inquisition here, so don't even try lying :smalltongue: [roll0]

[Lord_Asmodeus]

[roll0] wouldn't I arrive too late for this or not?

[Illiterate Scribe]

-

And a blinding, silent surge of light rushes up through the floor.

It is without fire, without shrapnel, but this blast vaporises - actually turning the marble flagstones into a fine, all-pervading dust - the section of the floor on which the rakshasa is standing. He is gone, similarly wiped away by the tremendous pressure.

And then comes the noise. The tsunami of compression and rarefaction passes through you without hindrance as you were not there; unfortunately, the same cannot be said for you; the organ-churning burst knocks you back, crushing the air out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your head. Even the insubstantial, ghostly individuals are affected by this blast.

Whereas the initial wave of pressure neatly excised a sphere from the fabric of the building, like some grotesque demonstration of Boolean geometry, this latter effect is much less subtle. In fact, it nearly everts the entire structure of this mansion, sending walls crashing to the ground, floors crashing in, and the whole edifice in so many tatters. It seems that you were lucky - you found a sort of narrow window of life between the blast itself, and the built up waves of concussion that ravaged the building.

Rocks rain around you, yet, miraculously, everyone stays alive. Your memories of what took place are somewhat hazy - perfectly understandably, given the shock - but, moments later, you find yourself, bruised and battered, in a pile of rubble that was once the house.

Not too far off, you hear running footsteps.

Okay ...

Skavress - what with your ridiculously lucky result of 50 on your reflex check, and improved evasion, you get off fine, nimbly, almost gleefully, skipping through the air and landing gracefully on powerful legs.

Azatoc - the disembodied, floating, brain-like creature was severely buffeted by the initial wave, but the rocks passed through it like so many breezes.

[roll0] force damage to him.

[roll1] force, [roll2] bludgeoning damage to his psycrystal.

Emmons - in a nonchalant manner, the joystealer neatly sidesteps the blast, and pieces of masonry fly straight through him. No damage.

Karkal notices that the magic resistant power of his lineage is shielding him from the first pressure wave to some extent, but there are so many sources that assail him in such a manner that it merely takes the slightest edge off the blow, which hits him hard, with a blow that sends him stumbling back - even despite the fact the he experienced it's wake only. Neither Arcana nor Religion help identify this - which should, arguably, help more than anything else.

[roll3] force damage.

Zazzin's near-preternatural sense alert him to the explosion just as its radiance is blossoming outwards, but it's not enough to save him from harm. He is hurled back - cannoning into Mosp, of all things - the two both go down into the rubble, each taking [roll4] bludgeoning damage.

Zazzin takes [roll5] force damage.

Mosp takes [roll6] force damage.

Karais' natural wariness serves her well, and she eludes the majority of the explosion, but gets caught by one or two flying splinters.

[roll7] force damage, [roll8] bludgeoning damage. (accursed refusal on the boards' behalf to do half rolls ...)

Matari, still in a fairly relaxed state from the dancing, stumbles, narrowly missing a the broken head of a statue that streaks past her ear, but hitting the ground hard, and awkwardly, taking [roll9] force and [roll10] bludgeoning damage.

The other two, Threeshades and Asmodeus - to keep the game moving, just say that you manifest after the explosion.

Re:the footsteps - DC 25 listen to hear whether they're running towards or away from you.

[Lord_Asmodeus]

[roll0] wouldn't I arrive too late for this or not?

[Uncle Festy]

((W00tzors! Scribe is back!))
As Shadow flies backwards, with a grunt, his skin morphs again, back to the catlike Raaksha's form. His supernatural form is enough to avoid damage from slamming into the construct (hooray for DR 15/magic+piercing!), but the force of the explosion visibly stuns him. He sits there, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Damn! If I'd been able to detect his thoughts sooner..."
"Zazzin?"
"Yeah?"
"You do realize you're sitting on the golem, right?"
"Gah!" Zazzin leaps up. "I'm sorry about that."
"So, should we use some Draconic energy, to fix you up?"
"No. I'm not quite hurt enough to require that. However... Olar, do your thing."
"Of course." Zazzin's form shifts yet again, and the robed figure of Olar begins casting spells of protection.
((Casting Greater Mage Armor, then Prestidigitation, then Detect Magic. Oh, and I'm finally updating the sheet with the rest of my items, if I still can. Sorry that it's late...
Oh, and before I forget, Zazzin is going to be near-constantly shifting forms, because it represents different parts of him coming to the forefront.))

[Axelgear]

Like a chess piece sliding over the board, the shadowy being slides backwards through the air, but is otherwise unaffected. His shadowy composure is unbroken. Within moments, even his cloak is not ruffled, and it is as if he was not even touched by the blast-wave.

"Fool. A pity he didn't leave a body behind. At least then he could've served some purpose." He mutters darkly, unconcerned by the collapsing building. When it does collapse, he just drifts gently out from the rubble as if it is not even there and gravity seems to take effect once more after he clears it as his feet can be sound clacking on the rubble. With an uncaring tilt of his head, he looks in the direction of each of the survivors, even those still buried.

"I suppose it would be an exercise in futility to ask if any of you are okay. Not that I care..." He states grimly, watching everyone pull themselves from the rubble.

Karkal's Fast Healing 4 means that the damage is gone in two rounds, so he doesn't even wince at this.

[dyslexicfaser]

Mosp

"I incurred only.. minor damage. Repairs will be minimal." Mosp rumbled in answer to Zazzin's apology. It leveraged itself up with some difficulty; having blades for hands made some simple tasks surprisingly tricky.

"Is it now time.. to.. flee the scene of the crime?" the golem wondered, having heard the footsteps.

(OOC: Not going to bother trying to roll a listen, because Mosp's skillset is sad and weak, what with having a 4 for int and a 6 for wis.)

[Iethloc]

"But...I never got to talk about mountains!" Azatoc whined as he floated up through the wreckage. He shook his "head", forcing himself to recover from the blast. "Oh, now there's a mess here. Great. I don't want to be the one to clean it up..." he commented. Azatoc focused for just a moment, and then one of the rocks floated up. He turned it over for a few seconds, then blazed red as both he and the rock shook violently, then he let it drop as he hovered forward to where the Rakshasa once stood, his color returning to green, sometimes blue. "This...is quite an unpleasant interruption. And the explosion wasn't even large enough!" he moaned, red welling from within as he finished speaking.


The psicrystal is actually protected from the rocks, since I've used Assume Equipment to take it with me, since it's on a necklace. Otherwise, its Hardness of 8 protects it from the force damage, so it suffers only 2 bludgeoning damage. And he made the rock float with his Telekinetic Force class feature, which is "At Will" while incorporeal.

Lastly, I will not bother with listen checks, as neither are capable of making a DC 25 listen check.

[The_Snark]

Karais

Karais stares about at the wreckage, looking remarkably uninterested in the cause; she sits on a large piece of rubble that had landed just next to her, missing her only by a foot or so. One cannot help but get the feeling that of all people, she doesn't deserve that kind of luck. "Oh, he's dead," she notes, presumably speaking of the rakshasa. "What a pity." Her tone is not at all convincing.

With a sigh, she tilts her head, listening to the footsteps, then levers herself up off the rubble, which looks to have been part of a large support beam; it looks slicked with the same moisture that covers her body, as though the air about her were humid. A slight puddle has begun to accumulate at her feet

About her, four creatures abruptly appear; man-sized, with oily yellow-green skin, clawed feet, and a long tail. Each carries a long, nastily spined polearm, and has sharp teeth and a filthy, matted-looking beard. The black-winged woman regards them with faint distaste and boredom.

"Go and find out where those footsteps are coming from. Scream if you find anything," she adds laconically, leaning back on the stone column fragments as they troop off and fan out in four directions.

[roll0]... [roll1] Bearded devil time. They have orders to, well, scream if they find the source of the noise. Or anything else really weird that they can't already see.

[playswithfire]

Matari

Picking herself up off the floor, Matari quickly checks her clothes and gear for any damage and mumbles. Well, all things considered, that could have been worse. Bit embarrassing to fall in front of people, but none of this makes much sense yet and doesn't look like many of them did any better. Noticing the footsteps and unfurling her fans. Oh, now what?


50-50 shot, so let's see what happens
Listen: [roll0]
EDIT:excellent

[Axelgear]

I figure Karkal has a decent enough chance, and a natural 20 could always help.

[roll0] - Spot
[roll1] - Listen

I love the Undead...

Also, Karkal's range of vision is sort of limited but if there's anything there, can he see it with his blindsight? The spot check is there just in case someone nearby has the Darkstalker feat.

Edit: I love the Undead, I hate my luck. Speaking of which, Karkal uses Dark One's Own Luck to buff his Fort save.

[Uncle Festy]

((Huh. I guess I forgot Listen.
[roll0]
EDIT: Wow. Natural 1. That's kinda pathetic. I can't hear anything!))

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

Emmons is completely untouched by the blast. He straightens his hat and brushes imaginary dust off his shirt.

"My, my. I suppose that cuts the explanation a little short, then. Well, no matter. You all are unscathed, I hope?"

[elkhantar]

Skavress

The heavily muscled humanoid avoids the blast and debris propelled by the pressure wave. Although it is hard to tell due to his skull-like face, you can tell he's smiling at the fate of the raksasha that summoned him. He dreserved that for summoning me away from my prey. he growls with spite. He looks at the diverse array of creatures congregated by the summoner with curiosity, noticing that most of them are unscathed by the explosion. Has any of you done that? he adds, pointing to where the raksasha was standing. Not that I was relly interested on his exp... at the sound of footsteps he stops talking and raises his head to try to pinpoint the source of the sound. He also sniffs the air slowly.

listen check: [roll0] I have a 50% too. He also tries to smell something, although the smell of some of the creatures around may fool his senses. Well, my luck in this game so far is almost surreal... wait until it's something important :smallwink:

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

Emmons scans the group, his eyes settling on Skavress. "I did not do such a thing. Moreover, I doubt any of us cast it, considering that one does not usually catch themselves within the area of their own blast. However, I hear footsteps coming, so it's still probably best to be prepared for combat."

On that note, Emmons pulls out his bag. He reaches in and takes out an ornately decorated greatsword. He drops it to the ground at his side and reaches in again, pulling out another greatsword and dropping it at his side. He looks at the bag for a moment, as if in thought, then picks the bag up and unceremoniously dumps the contents of the bag on top of the two swords.

Evidently, the content of the bag was more greatswords.

He then flicks his wrist, and the pile of greatswords straightens out and rises up into the air a few feet.

Removing his 15 mwk greatswords from his bag of holding, then applying sustained force from the ring of telekinesis.

[Uncle Festy]

((A. Forgot that Prestidigitation only lasts 1 hour, and not 1 hour/level, so it's off the list of spells being cast.
B. Bump))

[Axelgear]

Karkal the Wretched

The shadow figure steps across the rocks slowly, examining the unusual group and pondering on things. Familiar with the ways of magic, he is perturbed by the fact that he is still there. The summoning spells he knows of do not function like this, typically ending when the summoning circle is broken. Still, he has nowhere better to be. At least, he knows of nowhere better to be. There are most definitely places he would care for far more than the one he finds himself in presently, but it is not a time to be picky.

"I am always prepared for combat. More corpses are always welcome, though." The figure says bleakly, then slowly turns to Skavress. "You in particular would make a fine addition. You are muscular, sizable... I imagine you could make a fine Hulking Corpse if you were reanimated." He states in a manner and with a tone that speaks of him actively shopping in a grizzly market of some sort or another. Still, there are no threatening movements or gestures as the willowy creature walks away slowly once more, heading towards the sound of the footsteps.

[elkhantar]

Skavress

Not really knowing whether it was a menace or a praise, the Astral Stalker stares on the shadowy figure, since he didn't like it anyway. For a brief moment he considers a reply, or even leaping besides him and tearing him apart with his claws. However, each of the summoned creatures seemed powerful in its own way, and he didn't really have a reason to fight them. yet.

Finally, he decides that the most urgent threat were the paces that sounded nearby, so he walks closer to the gigantic golem-like creature (Mosp), and seems to disappear into thin air.

Skavress is hiding in Mosp's shadow.
hide [roll0]
move silently[roll1]

[Illiterate Scribe]

My joy at my return, and my reason for it, is so great that it can only be expressed via an image macro:

http://images.encyclopediadramatica.com/images/4/4f/Schoolsclosed.jpg

OK, so, those of you who passed the check can confirm that there was no-one moving away from you, but a pair of people moving towards you.

No sooner have the troop of bearded devils made their cautious first sweep into the street, than a rustling movement draws the attention of all in the

Two figures emerge from the eaves of a store, opposite. They are not exactly hostile, but the way that they handle their weapons - that is to say, having drawn them, and holding them in a stance that could very easily lose its passivity and adopt a position that would be rather more threatening - makes it clear that they aren't here on pleasure.

The one in front is a fairly odd-looking character - she wears human garments (a long over-robe, presumably with armour underneath), looks like a human, and moves like one, but there is, nonetheless, something strange.

The second figure is also strange, but in a different way. Bristling with armour, anyone inspecting the tiny, yet nonetheless threatening, creature will certainly notice that something very worrying is afoot with its hammer. It is, to be sure, larger than one's everyday hammer wielded by a petal; but its dimensions somehow don't fit, as if it were much, much, larger, and it merely hasn't decided to inform the universe yet.

As they notice the crowd, sitting, standing, or hovering about in the ruins, together with their attendant Barbazu, they stop, in concern.

Somewhat of an impasse seems to be building between the two groups; it is broken by the leading figure lowering her blade, reaching inside her overcoat, and flourishing a piece of parchment.

In the name of the Arda Temporal Authority, down your arms! What in the First Matter's name has happened here?

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

Emmons strides forward a few paces, telekinetically turning his swords 180 degrees so that the blades point away from the newcomers. He tips his hat and begins to speak.

"Well, my good lady, there seems to be some sort of misunderstanding here. We all were summoned up by a (now deceased) rakshasa to perform some sort of task, when suddenly the whole building just blew up, most likely caused by a spell of some sort. I assure you, though, we're quite all right. We were merely looking for the perpetrators of this explosion when you showed up." His words are matched with flourishes of his hands and teacup, and the floating greatswords sway with the motions.

"Now then, I've said my part. Well, what's YOUR story?"

If it matters, I'll roll a Diplomacy check.
Diplomacy: [roll0]
EDIT: Well, I guess using Preview Post screws up rolls. Roll will be posted in the OOC.

[Uncle Festy]

((Teh Scribe! He eez back! Party in the OoC thread!))
Olar steps forward. "Indeed, the events transpired as he has explained them, strange as it may sound. We are innocent of any wrongdoing. But please, tell us - who are you?"
((Detect Thoughts on both of them. Will DC 23 resists. Oh, and Olar cast Detect Magic earlier - what did he see?))

[Illiterate Scribe]

Ahah, you'd have me believe that you were just bystanders, victims, witnesses?

She shrugs, and chuckles. A pair of iridesecent, faintly incorporeal wings waft out, like strands of gauze.

Well, I'll buy that, for the moment. Old Kherak was notoriously fond of summoning, so I suppose that it is possible.

Nonetheless, procedural formalities.

I am Indictor Lightdaughter, of the Arda Temporal Authority. As such, it falls to me, and my colleague here, Black Thorn, of the Ardan Praetorian Guard, to investigate matters here. I am already late for attendance at the official declaration of hostilities, but, if you accompany me there, may I ask you a few questions, about the specifics of the incident?

[Illiterate Scribe]

Whoops, double post ... anyhow, Emmons - the diplomacy has been taken note of, as have the will saves, in the OoC thread. The detect magic spell detected a great deal of discharged magical energy - as you'd expect in the aftermath of an explosion - and, most notably, it has completely detonated - there is no trace of the original explosion left.
Olar's attempt to read Lightdaughter's mind fails. :smallfrown:

[Pyroconstruct]

Tech: Black Thorn's mind is not read.

Black Thorn buzzed down to Lightdaughter's shoulder, shrinking down her mace to a petal-sized mallet as she landed.

"The glowing bug is a type of celestial called a Hollyphant. If things go sour, it will probably side with us over the various demons," Black Thorn whispered quietly.

She then took back off and buzzed a little bit above Lightdaughter's head, looking suspiciously at the summoned creatures.

[Illiterate Scribe]

Thankyou. I hope that it will not come to that, but it is a good thing to know the lay of the land.

[The_Snark]

Karais

Karais only glances over as the newcomers make their entrance, not bothering to stand up. The barbazu don't scream, presumably realizing why they were supposed to and that it's completely unnecessary, and she vaguely waves a hand at them to halt, accompanying the gesture with a telepathic prompt.

"You probably know about as much as we do," she answers without interest. "We just had a better view." Still, she levers herself up after a minute of contemplation. "Not that we've anything better to do, since the calling-spell's still working. We wouldn't want you to miss your little war ceremony, after all..." She moves closer at a lazy pace, with a slight limp in her left leg. Closer to, the smell of rotten fruit becomes stronger; the word intoxicating could almost be used without sarcasm, though it is at the same time repellent.

[dyslexicfaser]

Mosp

The war machine moves forward until it is standing behind Emmons, Skavress, and Karais, towering over all those assembled here. Despite looming over the official, all armor plating interspersed with spiky bits, it exudes no sense of threat - it seems to have no problem following Lightdaughter.

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

"Bystanders, victims, and witnesses are exactly what we are, my lady. Nevertheless, I shall answer your questions to the best of my ability. I am Emmons," he says, with a polite bow and a flourish of his teacup.

Knowledge(history) to see if Emmons knows anything about the history of the Arda Temporal Authority or the Praetorians: [roll0]

[playswithfire]

Matari

Retracting the horns, mainly to have control over something rather than to hide what she is, Matari answers. I am Matari and, as I am very interested in who nearly killed me, I too will be happy to help.

[elkhantar]

Skavress

Frustrated by his lack of control of the situation, Skavress jumps away from Karais, as he finds her stench too offensive for his acute sense of smell. His jump takes him away from Mosp's shadow, so he seems to appear from nowhere, although he was always there.

In deep contrast with Mosp's quieter manners, Skavress exudes menace, showing his irritation at the current situation. I don't recognize that authority. he growls. Nonetheless, I see no reason to argue with you or stay here, so I guess I'll follow.. Skavress points with his claw, inviting the newcomers to lead the way. I guess that Arda is the name of this plane? country? city? he inquires

[Axelgear]

Karkal floats gently towards the small crowd forming, doing his best to remain unnoticed until he can assess the situation. When he sees that these newcomers are actually a rough equivalent to officers of the peace, he smirks grimly. Instead of joining the others immediately, he fades into thin air, following them closely. He won't play his cards until he is sure what's going on...

Karkal didn't move into full view until he was sure what was going on. He's essentially hidden and de-manifested and is following ethereally.

[Pyroconstruct]

Skavress

Frustrated by his lack of control of the situation, Skavress jumps away from Karais, as he finds her stench too offensive for his acute sense of smell. His jump takes him away from Mosp's shadow, so he seems to appear from nowhere, although he was always there.

In deep contrast with Mosp's quieter manners, Skavress exudes menace, showing his irritation at the current situation. I don't recognize that authority. he growls. Nonetheless, I see no reason to argue with you or stay here, so I guess I'll follow.. Skavress points with his claw, inviting the newcomers to lead the way. I guess that Arda is the name of this plane? country? city? he inquires

Black Thorn jumped at Skavress's sudden appearance and instinctively enlarged her warmace back up to the human size - that is, the size of a human, not proportioned for a human to wield. She calmed down and shrank it back after he started speaking.

"Nation," Black Thorn replied, "and it would in your best interest if you did recognize our authority, at least while you're here. Like your succubus friend said, hopefully we'll be able to figure out who tried to kill you and then thwack them."

[Illiterate Scribe]

So, he summoned you, did he? That would explain the rather ... disconcerted manner of your arrival. You are in Arda, one of the major cities - and nations, as my colleague says - of the plane of Saeculum. I am fairly sure that our old Rakshasa summoned you in order to gain military intelligence - would that be correct? But, more importantly, what exactly did you see, hear, or feel? We, you understand, are just as eager as you to find out who is bombing our city.

For Emmons only - unless he wants to share ...
You know that the Temporal Authority are the military police-***-city guard of Arda. They are fairly harsh - they are accountable to virtually no-one, and regularly make people aware of that fact, by very obviously arresting very high-ranking city members. They could, in theory, arrest the high chancellor - albeit creating a constitutional crisis - and have detained members of his council on numerous occasions. They favour a sweeping, sudden, approach - large scale, simultaneous dawn raids being a favoured tactic. That said, they are remarkably self-restrained - although, Signs know, they could use torture, they hold back from doing so - rather, their mildly intimidating reputation, together with the fact that they are actually a military body, means that they don't really need to.

And the esoteric information -

Since the war with Erdzhene, Arda has been secretly doing deals with several planes in order to curry more favour and break the stalemate. Mercury has been particularly forthcoming, and has been sending its servants down to positions of power in the city. Indictor is precisely the sort of rank that would be chosen - one of the foremost in the Temporal Authority, it is one of three roles that govern it.

You know less about the Praetorians, but this much at least you do -

Long ago, it was decided by the high chancellor that the 'adventuring professions' were too disruptive to Arda's rule, and often drew away the cities best minds and swordarms. As such, they simply nationalised the whole thing - under a scheme of Marque (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Letter_of_marque), they made privateers of the former parties, giving the adventurers subsidies, and a regular, assured series of tasks, while the state got a mobile, powerful, and over all, deniable force of irregulars, that could hold, destroy, or recover important objectives, while also being capable of guarding Arda itself, or of fighting in a military units. In the last war, they were Arda' secret trump card that they used to break the fighting spirit of the Erdzheni Spellguard.

See, you get a lot for a knowledge check of 30. :smalltongue:

[Iethloc]

Azatoc

Azatoc hovered in place, silently observing the newcomers. But once Black Thorn's mace grew to a ridiculous size, Azatoc hovered over to her, and began orbiting around her."A warmace that changes size? I don't see that very often. Where did you get it?" he inquired curiously. He floated around for just a few more moments before veering up, and looked down at everyone present.

"I couldn't really tell who attacked us from the explosion, but I can tell you it was capable of harming me. The initial blast reduced matter to dust," Azatoc explained, recalling what he can remember before being violently tossed around. No wounds were visible on his incorporeal body, but it was obvious from the tone that he was displeased. "Yeah, I didn't know anything about what the rakshasa wanted, and he didn't even want to talk about mountains," he commented.

[Illiterate Scribe]

Mountains ... a shame. There are some beautiful mountains to the west of here, but people ... don't go there. So, you say it was capable of harming an incorporeal creature? Argent force; just as we feared ...

[playswithfire]

Matari

He did ask us about something that sounded military in nature, though none of us knew what he was talking about. For myself, I saw and felt an explosion and then heard the two of you coming. What's this argent force you just mentioned?

[dyslexicfaser]

Mosp

Would Knowledge (History) or Spellcraft tell me anything about this 'Argent force'? My docent has 12 ranks in each.

[The_Snark]

Karais

"A nonsensical mortal word for a type of magical energy," Karais says boredly, with a faint smirk at the succubus for her ignorance. "You might do better to call it inviolate energy, since nothing blocks it and almost nothing destroys it. I suppose some idiot mortal alchemist thought it was something to do with silver, and since then nobody bothered to think about it."

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

"Yes, the rakshasa asked for information on the movements of the... 1st Erdzheni Spellguard, was it? Either way, it was military, and knowledge that none of us possess. As for the blast, none of us were seriously harmed even if we were hit, yet our summoner appears to have perished." He speaks, maintaining his polite disposition, but he furrows his brow as he recalls information about the pair's organizations.

He thinks to himself. There's something wrong with this... they're members of vast organizations sent to investigate a matter of vital importance to their nation - possibly a matter that could be the difference between peace and outright war. Why are there only two of them? I don't like this... not one bit.

[Illiterate Scribe]

I apologise for my insistence of using terms of art. Argent force ... well, if one pictures a flame, it is a dull yellow-orange, is it not? Yet if we take, say, the sun, or a raging inferno that's burning down a house, it's a very different colour - almost pure white.

Likewise, force. A single discharge of the stuff is nearly transparent, but a whole bunch of the stuff is almost mirror-like silver.

A bell begins to ring - it is a sonorous, clear, but somehow heavy note up ahead.

Curses - my didacticism might just make us late.

She quickens her pace down the narrow street towards the tower housing the bell.

[Uncle Festy]

Olar's form changes into one that mimics Lightdaughter's, but his/her eyes are red. "'My didacticism might just make us late!'" he says in a mocking tone of voice. "Wow, she makes me sick."
"Do you even know what 'didacticism' means?"
"Well... um... maybe..."
"Shut up." Zazzin morphs back into his regular form.

[Pyroconstruct]

Azatoc

Azatoc hovered in place, silently observing the newcomers. But once Black Thorn's mace grew to a ridiculous size, Azatoc hovered over to her, and began orbiting around her."A warmace that changes size? I don't see that very often. Where did you get it?" he inquired curiously. He floated around for just a few more moments before veering up, and looked down at everyone present.

Black Thorn hovered in place and rotated to keep Azatoc in her field of view as the brain hovered around. "It's a family heirloom. I've never seen a floating brain, either, but there's a first time for everything."

[Iethloc]

Azatoc

"Well, I don't *have* to be a brain. I could, for example be...a...floating mountain..." Azatoc admitted as he quickened his own pace. Slowly, his form twisted and enlarged, until he became a deceptively solid-looking, 8-foot tall mountain floating down the corridor. "I don't normally stay in the form of a mountain. It doesn't fool anyone. But I don't think my shapeshifting abilities are a family heirloom," he said. Faster than before, his form shrunk and warped until he was once again a floating, transparent brain, this time circling around Indictor, quietly humming a tune to himself.

[The_Snark]

Karais

"And what a great shame that would be," Karais says, sounding bored... for a change. Lightdaughter's quickened pace leaves her behind—either her leg really is injured, or she's simply refusing to move any faster—but she fades from view, appearing a short distance in front of the Indictor by the side of the street. "Is something keeping you from speaking while you move?" she inquires innocently, smiling. Well, it might be an attempt at a smile; the sickly rictus is a miserable failure at conveying cheer or innocence.

[Illiterate Scribe]

The indictor looks slightly bemusedly at the roving, 8ft high mountain, but shakes her head and moves on. Turning to Karais, she shrugs again.

Well ... it's more a reluctance to consider on the move. Distractions, y'see. And don't worry, we're nearly there. The bend of this street ...

Sense Motive roll of [roll0] to see if there's anything Karais is interested in. :smallbiggrin:

[elkhantar]

Skavress

The black humanoid keeps up with the indictor with improbably long jumps. Between jumps he sniffs around, and looks to both sides, trying to stay alert despite the incessant chatter and the floating brain-mountain-thing. She does well staying quiet on the walk he approves. It is unwise to give out our position as you do The skull-like face frowns. Particularly if we face an imminent conflict. Skavress keeps some distance with the others, not too willing to trust them.

[playswithfire]

Matari
At the words 'imminent conflict,' Mataris fans open with two quick wrist-flicks. Quickly peering around to see if the jumping man had seen anything to make him say that. Not seeing anything herself, she respond quietly, with just enough volume for him to hear. If the conflict is actually imminent, then it will happen whether we're boisterous or silent and, from the looks of us, we can all handle a fight. But there is something to be said for the element of surprise. She partially closes one fan and slides it across her mouth, hoping to express that she will remain silent.

[Illiterate Scribe]

Imminent conflict here? I ... I ... well, I should hope not. Not like last time ...


You round a corner. Before you, a vast square opens up, with a disturbing, almost vertiginous sensation. It, to say the least, is packed. Citizens of every colour, have gathered together in one enormous huddle that, more than anything else, is reminiscient of an ant hive - and it isn't just humans and demi-humans. Beings of all shapes and sizes gather expectantly, casting furtive looks towards a currently empty raised dais - you are fairly sure that that is a rare Tulahadara over there, conversing with that chitine. One thing does strike you, however - they are all either old, in their youth, or sickly. Something tells you that all of them who can heft a sword have already left for the front.

A pair of figures - one bearing a mirror finish that is distinctively not from armour, and the other beating large fiery wings, beckon to Spark.

Blast it, you were right after all, my Succubus friend. We needn't have hurried. Still, official business beckons.

She rolls her eyes.

I'm sure that Black Thorn can keep care of you, and welcome you to the city; frankly, I'm not even sure that we need to keep you in. The background divinations that I was carrying out on you - you knew I was casting them, right? - are fairly unequivocal that you weren't the direct perpetrators, and I literally will collapse from exhaustion if I have to continue running a city of over a million souls on a police force of two hundred.

And with that, she is gone - a graceful flutter of fan-like wings on her back propels her over to the other two, where they begin conversing heatedly.
Some bad news, people - a grandparent, living in Berwick has just had a nasty accident. We're going up there in the morning to help out with stuff - hopefully everything will be resolved soon, but I am very unlikely to be able to get internet access. Expect no posts for approximately four days.

I'm really, really sorry that that might not seem too unusual.:smallfrown:

[Uncle Festy]

Some bad news, people - a grandparent, living in Berwick has just had a nasty accident. We're going up there in the morning to help out with stuff - hopefully everything will be resolved soon, but I am very unlikely to be able to get internet access. Expect no posts for approximately four days.

I'm really, really sorry that that might not seem too unusual.:smallfrown:

*sends wishes of goodwill to Scribe*

[dyslexicfaser]

Mosp

Mosp, who had been stumping along in silence on the walk to this point, opened its mouth, "Only the Rakshasa.. would know where we were all summoned.. from. I suspect.. we may be.. stranded here for some time." Its words come slowly, giving the impression that it is either choosing each word with care, or is just slow in the head.

No worries, Scribe, we all know these things happen. Real life has to come first, sometimes. We'll be waiting here for your return.

[elkhantar]

Skavress

The indictor's words make Skavress raise one of his bald eyebrows, but he lets the comment slip nonetheless. Mosp's voicing of his ideas echos his own, though, and he mumbles, irritated Yeah, yeah, all good news he agrees. To keep himself busy, he studies the masses congregated there, while waiting for the "authorities" to speak again.

sorry to hear that, IS. I hope he gets better, and best wishes for you two. We'll be waiting for you to return!

I'm glad to hear your grandpa is ok :smallsmile: I hope he recovers soon! (I didn't want to clutter the thread with more OOC)

[Axelgear]

Karkal, who has been patiently listening into all of this, gently drifts away from the group, following to listen in on the argument... Like some unseen demon, the wraith watches and waits, hoping to hear some interesting tidbit...

He's hiding and listening. Not much else to say for me, really...

[Illiterate Scribe]

Hooray! As you may have gathered, I've been snagging in 5 minutes here and there (there's something about the the borders that seems to result in wildly varying internet connections. Well, serves you right if you just walk about like a lunatic waving a laptop around looking for signal.

Anyway, the good news is that said grandfather, although hurt quite badly, made what the doctors said was an unexpectedly good recovery. So that's good!

For Karkal's eyes only:

The argument is boring - the phoenix, nimblewright, and Gloura are mostly discussing how the various officers should be placed. Scraps of dialogue - '-even here?-', '-it's surprising how they managed to get even-', '-now, of all days-' - work their way up to you.

WILL BE POSTING PT. 2 SHORTLY. :smallsmile:

[Uncle Festy]

((Scribe is back!
Do do do do do do!
Wasn't there a song that went like that or sommaught?
EDIT: And oh yeah! Congrats on your grandfather's successful recovery!))

[Illiterate Scribe]

Without warning, or, at least, any warning that you perceived, a wave of silence spreads out from the dais at the centre of the square. Something changes in the attitude of those gathered in the square. Whereas before they were anticipatory, a stiffening of the spine, a slight raising of the head in those around you, belies the presence of someone important.

An old man, dwarfed by his fur coat, steps out onto the platform. He walks unsteadily; not quite sure of himself, he shuffles, supported by Lightdaughter, towards a simple, almost monolithic, podium. It is made of a single lump of iron - this fact is hardly surprising.

When he reaches it, however, something changes - he fills out under his cloak, as if simply the act of preparing for public speaking gives him new life and vigour. The High Chancellor of Arda, the honorable, Erchon Northcote, clears his throat once, twice, three times - and starts speaking.

Citizens of our proud Ardan nation; today, bring tidings of change.

A change for the better, or a change for the worse?

Well, we are the only ones who can determine that.

You remember our war with Erdzhene; you remember how, on the fine edge, the Sign of Lethargy intervened?

It will not happen again. We have been invaded, we have been attacked - they were found lurking behind our borders. They have treated the many prisoners that they took from us more poorly than their animals. Yet they, some say, are still protected?

Would it be dishonorable to fight? Possibly, say effete weapons-masters and strategists in their spires.

Would it be god-fearing to fight? No, say the traitor-priests of the Erdzhene.

Would it be just for us go forth and set right the wrongs of our enemies?

I do not believe that any one of you does not know the answer.

No, on this day, this grim, steely day, we turn round, and put a stop to this.

The days ahead will be harsh; they will be long; you will lose your loved ones. But even now, our troops march off to war. A war we shall win.


The nimblewright next to him steps forward, proffering a large scroll, and a quill. Northcote signs it with a slow, languid flourish, the silvered construct
passes his hand over it, and it is gone.

A war that has just been decl-

He falls silent, with a sudden crack. He looks down at the fist-sized hole in his chest, in puzzlement. And then, agonisingly slowly, slides forward, onto the podium.

Someone screams.

Chaos erupts.

On the podium, Lightdaughter rushes forward to the old man, whose former grand appearance shriveled in an instant. Perhaps it was merely illusory, formed by the Indictor, perhaps it is merely the passing of his soul. The other figures form a defensive circle around the two, producing wands, staves, and swords from their coats and robes as if from nowhere.

The reaction in the streets, however, is less disciplined. When nearly ten thousand people, all packed into one square, instantaneously, unanimously decide to leave it, the results, it must be said, are unpleasant. A stampede ensues, but it is painful to see that there simply are not enough exits to release the mob.

They do, however, wash around your group. The presence of the hulking, metallic beast, and the rippling jet black monster, in particular, provide an ample rock for the terrified crowd to break around.

OK. Those three words:

Roll for initiative. :smallamused:

Also, a DC 20 and DC 30 spot check.

Tactical overview - This is the vague outline of the square that you are in.

http://img519.imageshack.us/img519/9108/map1pj4.jpg

There are six street exits each approximately 60 ft wide (it's the centre of the city. The crowd is centered around the middle of the square, but there are still large numbers out in these streets. The rooftops, from what you can see of them, are fairly cluttered - think Hampton Court Palace. (http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/11372/hc1008_edited-1-trek0702.jpg)

Lightdaughter and the dignitaries are marked out in red on the map.

You are marked out in gold.

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

"What in tarnation was that?!"

Initiative: [roll0]
Spot check DC 20: [roll1]
Spot check DC 30: [roll2]

[playswithfire]

Matari

An assassination followed by a panicked mob, I believe. In other words, trouble.


Init [roll0]
spots [roll1] [roll2]

[Uncle Festy]

"By the seven signs!"
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Uncle Festy]

((Oops. Accidentally deleted Initiative.))
[roll0]

[Axelgear]

Karkal the Wretched

Karkal had been distracted by decidedly conspiratorial mumblings right up until the moment of the speech. At this point, his thoughts were redirected and he turns to look up at the podium. When the explosion occurs, Karkal reacts with cold, inhuman emotions as he returns to a manifested state, appearing as a floating shadow roughly twenty feet off the ground or so. Whatever caused this attack must have some knowledge, and any knowledge he lacks is a boon to his enemies.


[roll0] - Initiative
[roll1] - Listen
[roll2] - Spot

The spot check is just to notice anything out of the ordinary in this case.

[elkhantar]

Skavress

Claws of the mother! shouts the black humanoid. He certainly had expected the city to be safer, judging by the quality of the guards, but reality obviously didn't meet his expectations.

Seeing the mass of scared people running towards them, he roars defiantly RAAAAAAAOOAAAARGH!!. Skavress stares at the incoming people and makes his claws crackle with electricity, hoping that the implicit menace will be enough to keep the scared horde at a distance where they will not be an annoyance.

Since the stench of Karais and the thousand of smells of the congregated multitude nullify his acute smell, he tries to ignore the scared people and focuses to find the source of the attack.


Initiative: [roll0]
Spot DC 20:[roll1]
Spot DC 30 (crosses fingers):[roll2]
Hahaha! I knew I had to roll in reverse order :smallwink:

[Pyroconstruct]

Black Thorn jumped in surprise, and tried to refrain from un-fairy-like cursing as she attempted to stay hidden while surveying the area.


Initiative: [roll0]
Spot 1: [roll1]
Spot 2: [roll2]
Hide: [roll3] (if relevant/possible).


"Did any of you see anything?" she yelled at the others. "Who the hell did that?"

[The_Snark]

Karais

Karais doesn't start at the old man's death and the pandemonium that follows; she'd only been half-listening to his speech with a kind of amusement anyway. She does, however, start to fade away, reappearing on steps up to the podium. Her eyes take on a faint haze of magic as she glances about lazily for the attacker.

Her voice insinuates itself into the minds of Lightdaughter and the other summoned creatures. Dear me, what a pity. He was such a good warmonger, too...

Initiative [roll0]
Spot 1 [roll1]
Can't make the second Spot check.
Note- True Seeing is active now. Karais can also detect anything within a 100-ft radius of her, as well as its type and Intelligence, via Mindsight.

She's teleporting to the right a little bit—ending up on the first step up to the platform on the map, between the dignitaries and the party.

[Illiterate Scribe]

To those of you who passed the DC 20 check:

You instantly begin searching for the source of the attack, hoping to locate it, either before it begins sniping into the crowd, killing dozens of innocents, or before it starts targeting you, depending on your outlook on life. Indeed, you see something move up among the spires and chimneys of the buildings above. It isn't much, but it is enough to draw your attention - someone is hastily pulling a stick-like object back behind a chimney. A little circumspection will reveal that similar camoflaged individuals are lurking behind the other chimneys.

After their first volley, they, with a worrying coordination, draw, heft, and aim their staves ...

To those of you who scored 25 or more on the DC 30 check (revised, because your actions were somewhat helpful, elkhantar ... :smallamused: ):

The mob are indeed shaken by the sight of the Astral Stalker, roaring and unsheathing its claws, bathed in an acrid, electrical light. As such, they nervously come to a sudden halt, at the entrance of a road leading away to the main square.

This reveals a curious phenomenon. You didn't notice any of the mob running past Skavress, but a thin line of five or so figures do seem to be in the street behind him. They look a little shifty, as if they were trying to blend into a crowd that they were expecting to flow around them, but seem to have a better plan now; they calmly turn round, and begin slowly shuffling towards you, picking up their pace, their long, haggard cloaks dragging along the ground, obscuring their feet entirely. 40 feet and closing.

3 minutes ... charge ... remaining.

[Uncle Festy]

((... and the results of initiative?))

[Illiterate Scribe]

[spoiler]Oops, coming right up:

The snipers (circling round from left to right on the map, one behind each chimney):

1:[roll0]
2:[roll1]
3:[roll2]
4:[roll3]
5:[roll4]

The figures in front of you:

1:[roll5]
2:[roll6]
3:[roll7]
4:[roll8]

[Illiterate Scribe]

OK, mucked that up.

Karais:
Sternly concentrating as she is, Lightdaughter takes no notice of the message. She is kneeling over the body of Northcote, amassing a fairly powerful cloud of magic over the pair like a thunderhead.

Everyone:

The leading figure of the line before you ... well, one could only say that it coalesces, from a slightly hazy outline into a solid form, that almost looks as if it is straining to get outside itself.

And then it begins to scream.

Its keening cry is so startling that it actually jars against your bones; it is a cold cry, that seems to be coming from leagues away, across limitless tundras, through a sky of icy clarity. It is not an entirely unpleasant sound; its harmonics strike an utterly pure, unsullied note, one that is not tinged by worldly concerns - except, perhaps, a distant melancholy. The leader is joined by its fellows, filling the note out, cutting the air.

As it leaps towards you, its cry not stopping or faltering for an instant, the clothes that it had wrapped around it disappearing as though they were smoke, you catch a glimpse of it: it is large, larger than a human, but bearing the same shape - except that it is terribly, terribly, the worse for wear. Its eyes flash with a blaze of actinic light the colour of the aurora, its bare flesh is worn away, almost to the bone, in places - its feet, for example, have been eroded away entirely, leaving its blood-blackened stumps floating on cushions of air.

With a lunge, he attempts to bite at Skavress, while the others calmly try to edge round you.

Bite attack on Skavress:

Attack:[roll0]
Damage:[roll1]
DC 21 fort save vs. disease, too.

Karais' true seeing will reveal a cloud of 'panes' of light surrounding the figure, Int 16, and his type is Fey (cold).

[Axelgear]

Karkal the Wretched

Karkal gives a devious grin as the target manifests in front of him and attacks. Lovely, he thinks, something to eat... Purple smoke wracks his body as the powers of unlife grip him, and unnaturally thin, bony fingers appear from nearly non-existent hands. Immediately, the half-visible figure rushes down at the apparition and he grasps onto it, trying to consume its life-force. His numbing, mind-sapping touch is his weapon...

Swift action to charge his hands with negative energy, then he moves towards the creature and touches them. 1d8+3 damage, 2 negative levels, and 1d4 wisdom drain.

Attack roll: [roll0]

If it hits: [roll1] damage and [roll2] wisdom drain


((Edit: Do we post in initiative order, or no?))

[Illiterate Scribe]

((Edit: Do we post in initiative order, or no?))

OoC:Nah, don't worry - the results of stuff will be assembled into the proper order. It's foolproof! :smallbiggrin:

[dyslexicfaser]

Woah, I need to subscribe to this thread, obviously; didn't know we were back. Don't need to try a spot check, Mosp can't see anything that's not right in front of its face.

Initiative: [roll0]

Mosp

Mosp stands tall, ignoring the mass of people that are streaming past, some in their panic bouncing off its metal frame before making their way around.

It sees the creatures taking hostile action on the being Skavress, designated Ally (temporary).

Its response in such situations is unilaterally swift and violent.

It begins to move, slowly at first but picking up speed like a... well, like 2400 pounds of metal bearing down upon its enemies, blades raised for the kill.

The map isn't working for me, so it's hard to tell what I can hit. My guy covers two spaces (I think?) and has a reach of 10ft, and his attacks wail on everything he threatens (except allies). IS?

[Uncle Festy]

((C'mon, c'mon, tell me I took Precise shot.
*checks sheet*
Yes! I took precise shot!
Uh... what's the "Int 16" thing mean? Because knowing that the Fey has a cold subtype changes my plans a lot.))

[FullPlateJacket]

((I really need a working grid with the enemies on it before I can make an action.))

[Pyroconstruct]

((I'd like a grid but I'll see what I can do for now))

Tech: checking what Crusader manuevers Black Thorn has granted:
[roll0]
[roll1]

Edit: Foehammer and Covering Strike.

[Pyroconstruct]

((I'm assuming Black Thorn is able to act vs. the ones in front of us, although she didn't pass the Spot check. If there was supposed to be a surprise round in which she doesn't act, ignore this. In any case, she can't see the chimney ones)).

Tech: Checking current False Life (this one is always precast, but not prerolled
[roll0])

Black Thorn, seeing the creatures at about the point when they moved to attack Skavress, let out her best attempt at a fierce battle cry and buzzed one of the wierd creatures, trying to figure out what it was before smashing it with a bone-crushingly powerful strike and then retreating back to land on Mosp's shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind if I use you as a launching pad for a bit, big fella."

(Only if Black Thorn makes a high enough Knowledge: Nature check (see spoiler for the roll) to know they are Wendigos):

"Those are Wendigos! Aim for the lower torso or neck!"

: First, checking to see if she knows what they are and how much knowledge devotion she gets:

[roll1]

Flyby Attacking a wendigo (if, when she acts, she has the choice of striking an injured or uninjured one, she'll go for an injured one). She does so by flying up, then down into its square (tumbling to avoid AoOs), activating Holy Warrior, using Emerald Razor plus max Power Attack for a hit, then flying back up, then onto Mosp's shoulder (Black Thorn is Tiny so she can share a square with him).

Abilities expended: 1 turn attempt (7/8 left), Emerald Razor manuever.
Active Buffs: False Life, GMW, MV, Superior Resistance, Holy Warrior, Knowledge Devotion vs. the Wendigos.

Attack (vs. Touch AC!): [roll2] plus Knowledge Devotion bonus.
Damage [roll3] plus Knowledge Devotion bonus.

[Iethloc]

Azatoc

"Killing someone while they give a speech?! That is...a BIG NO NO!" Azatoc declared, his bizarre speech detracting from the drama somewhat. However, he still looked menacing as red light throbbed from within, overcoming the normal green color of his image. A low, bass-pitched hum filled the air as a red shape formed in front of the bizarre brain. Quickly, the mass snapped into position in front of the crystal floating within his form, and then a bolt of fire poured forth, engulfing one of the floating enemies, and then a smaller branch reached forth and enveloped part of another.

Sorry about the lateness. Here's all the rolls: Initiative: [roll0]

Spot Checks:
Azatoc: DC 20: [roll1]
DC of 25 now? [roll2]

Psicrystal: DC 20: [roll3]
DC 25? [roll4]

And the fire from Energy Current is DC 31 reflex for half, and half damage to the secondary target, if there's one within 15 feet of the original target (same save). Using Psionic Endowment to up the DC from 30 to 31, and full augmenting, of course. And Solicit Psicrystal to transfer the responsibility of concentration to my psicrystal. [roll5]

The range of Energy Current is currently 60ft, and, if at all possible, that is the range Azatoc will fire from, if it will still encompass two targets, using a move action and/or 5-foot step as necessary

[playswithfire]

Matari

I think I see the assassins. On the roofs! I'm going after them. Matari takes to the skies, charing the sniper on the nearest roof.


Attack(weapon fan) [roll0] Damage [roll1]
13 more damage and a negative level to the sniper if he's not immune to it and I gain 13 temporary hit points and a +1 bonus to attack rolls for an hour (Libris Mortis is a fun book)

AC 43
HP 141/155

Sorry it took so long to post this action.

[The_Snark]

Karais

Karais glances disinterestedly over at the scream. It didn't rattle her; the moans of damned souls were a constant background noise in certain parts of Hell. Screaming wasn't anything to worry about.

It was grating on her ears, however. She raises a hand, and the creature's unearthly howl is echoed faintly by another scream, permeating the air near her. Blackness flows down her arm from her oily black breastplate, and rolls off her hand in an expanding wave to pass over the five figures.

Those inside the blotch hear the faint screams clearly, like the voices of people being stretched on the rack; and with it comes an echo of horrible wracking pain, hammering at the mind and body even as the blackness eats away at flesh. It fades away after a couple seconds, leaving the air clear and the cobblestones rather pitted.

Attempting to hit all five figures with an eldritch cone. Damage: [roll0]. A Reflex save, DC 26, halves that damage; everyone in the area also has to make a DC 27 Fortitude save or be nauseated for 1 minute, regardless of the Reflex save's result.

[FullPlateJacket]

Emmons

With a frown and a flourish of his arm, Emmons telekinetically thrusts the floating greatswords at the wendigos, targetting three of them. The swords take different flight paths, but converge on their targets in a hail of blades.

So, this will be pretty long. I'm using a violent thrust targetting three of the wendigos with the fifteen swords, five swords aimed at each. I need an attack roll for each one, and I'll roll damage and additional damage from sneak attack after that, since they might be flat-footed and/or in range.

Swords aimed at the first Wendigo:
Attack: [roll0] Damage: [roll1] Sneak Attack:[roll2]
Attack: [roll3] Damage: [roll4] Sneak Attack:[roll5]
Attack: [roll6] Damage: [roll7] Sneak Attack:[roll8]
Attack: [roll9] Damage: [roll10] Sneak Attack:[roll11]
Attack: [roll12] Damage: [roll13] Sneak Attack:[roll14]

Swords aimed at the second Wendigo:
Attack: [roll15] Damage: [roll16] Sneak Attack:[roll17]
Attack: [roll18] Damage: [roll19] Sneak Attack:[roll20]
Attack: [roll21] Damage: [roll22] Sneak Attack:[roll23]
Attack: [roll24] Damage: [roll25] Sneak Attack:[roll26]
Attack: [roll27] Damage: [roll28] Sneak Attack:[roll29]

Swords aimed at the third Wendigo:
Attack: [roll30] Damage: [roll31] Sneak Attack:[roll32]
Attack: [roll33] Damage: [roll34] Sneak Attack:[roll35]
Attack: [roll36] Damage: [roll37] Sneak Attack:[roll38]
Attack: [roll39] Damage: [roll40] Sneak Attack:[roll41]
Attack: [roll42] Damage: [roll43] Sneak Attack:[roll44]

Expect this madness often, since this one of my main forms of attack. However, I can't use another violent thrust for [roll45] rounds.

[Illiterate Scribe]

OK, people, I've first got to apologise for screwing all of you over so badly. I've posted infrequently, not had stuff adequately prepared, and just generally been shoddy.

That was during, as it were, 'school-peacetime'.

Now that the exams are beginning to heat up (A-levels :smalleek: !), it's unlikely that this state of affairs is going to improve. As such, I'm sorry, but I think that I might have to call an end to this.

I'm really sorry - you've all come up with some really great characters, and it's such a shame that they can't be used. Perhaps, in some distant future, we shall all meet again ...

[dyslexicfaser]

I'm very sorry to hear that Scribe.

But we understand real life has to come first.

[elkhantar]

No hard feelings here, I S! good luck for the exams!

[FullPlateJacket]

((I understand, considering that I've got exams coming up as well.))

[Axelgear]

Not again...

Sorry to hear that, Scribe. I understand the problems...

[The_Snark]

Not to worry, Scribe, life always does come first, and DMing a game is a lot of work whether it's simple and low-level, or complex like this one. Good luck with exams!

[Uncle Festy]

Not again...

Sorry to hear that, Scribe. I understand the problems...

Same.
But I can't complain, I did the same for the last spookables.
Bleh.