A Monster for Every Season: Summer 2
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  1. - Top - End - #421
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    ---------------- Zyrr ----------------

    The Baba Yaga did not respond to Zyrr's shouted insults, although one of the Diakkas did turn and eye the drow menacingly.

    ------------- Everyone ------------------

    As everyone sits in a circle, Karl is the first to speak up. "So what will you ask of the Court? Sentencing of the Sidhe behind the poisoning, the surrender of the Prince of Frost's armies, or the Scepter of Frozen Tears itself? The gnomish people may be forced to throw their lot in with the Spring Court out of necessity, but I am vehemently opposed to engaging in a potentially explosive endeavour without some sort of idea of what I may be sentencing my comrades to."

  2. - Top - End - #422
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    Blank Post to make the previous post appear. Stupid Forum bugs...

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    "We will ask and do whatever necessary to prevent a hostile takeover of the Feywild. The Bramble Queen has confirmed that she, too, will play her hand against us... given her hatred of mortals rivals that of the Prince of Frost, I find it impossible to believe that the Prince's designs on domination of the Feywild could have any positive outcome for the gnomish people."

  4. - Top - End - #424
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    Lucan - Half-elf bard

    As they walk to the rooms, Lucan is arguing with Lena. "What do you mean, it won't work? They're strings, aren't they?" He holds up some ratty looking strings. "I drew them forth from my pockets, didn't I? With my hands? I don't see why we can't go tie the Prince of Frost up right now." Lena's twittering takes on a very weary note as she tries to explain.

    By the time they reach the rooms, he's fallen into a sullen silence.
    Last edited by DSCrankshaw; 2012-01-10 at 11:34 PM.

  5. - Top - End - #425
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    Lord Ressort snorts at Aramil's comment as he pulls out his pipe. "I find it impossible to believe that the Princes designs for domination of the Feywild will go well for any of us."

    He begins counting on his fingers "The Green Court is unknown, since there's no telling how much sway the Bramble Queen has over the other Archfey." He raises a second finger "There were no signs that the Court of Coral has sided with the Prince, and if they're willing to help our gnomish friends, they at least have some semblance of a conscious." A third finger. "The Gloaming...we don't know, but it's safe to assume that the House of Flowers will try and pull as many of their supporters as they can behind the Prince. With the Witch of Fate's prediction..." he glances at Lucan "Some may be hesitant to join him, which should go well..."

    He raises a fourth finger, and sighs. "Which leaves the Summer Court, who should be siding with us if Verenestra's reaction is typical." He looks at Shep. "I'm not sure what was happening between you and Tiandra. Do you think you have enough sway with her so that she'll take sides against her son? A firm stance from Tiandra may be enough to sway the rest of the Court.

  6. - Top - End - #426
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    Well said, Huff-and-Puff, well said.

    But the Shepherd shifted uncomfortably in his seat when the fey nobleman he was smiling at looked him straight in the eyes and addressed him. Normally the Shepherd had been very able to keep out of these conversations unless he spoke up, and at the moment was rather enjoying going unnoticed (or as unnoticed as a 7 foot spire of rock could); it seemed that the display at the Court of Stars had disrupted his accustomed invisibility. The color, if the Shepherd had any color in the first place, drained from his face at the mention of Queen Tiandra.

    "Err..." he began, already off to a bad start. "I...well..." The Shepherd put his tongue between his teeth, "...no, I don't think I do. To be as honest as I can, I would say it is the other way around. That she has some sort of sway over me--at least, my head seems to think so whenever she looks at me. I don't mean to alarm you, or say this as a means to make you not trust me, but I am not sure what help I can be regarding...regarding...her."

  7. - Top - End - #427
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    "Still," the shadow suggests to its spire, "If there's anything you can think of to sway her, I'd say do it. You'll accomplish more than I have." He turns to address everyone in attendance. "I took it upon myself as a wild card to chat up a bigger wild card. If the Baba Yaga has any interest in this conflict one way or another, she hides it well. I don't think we can count on her to move for or against us in this case, if that helps."
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  8. - Top - End - #428
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    Lucan - Half-elf bard

    Meanwhile, Lucan's tied his strings together and is playing cat's cradle with Lena. Given that she's much too small to reach both of Lucan's hands at once, much less hold the string stretched out, it's a wonder that she keeps winning.

  9. - Top - End - #429
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    Lord Ressort sighs. "Well...I'm not sure there's anything else we can do then. We'll just need to see what happens tomorrow." he gives you all a low bow, before turning to leave. Lady Altshuler and Azula soon follow.

    ---------------------------

    The next morning is largely uneventful, except for a brief mishap with Pavick and the serving boy who brought in fresh strawberries. Best not to go into details. Midday soon approaches, and before long you again find yourself on the long ride to the treetops of Selienesse and into the Grand Hall. The tables and food from the previous night have been cleared away, leaving nothing but the large empty space in the middle of the room, and the small sections devoted to each court along the edges. The lack of a floor seems even more prominent today, but you still find the strange air currents that support you wherever you step.

    Just outside the Great Hall, scores of fey of every shape and size sit on branches, floating carpets, or held aloft by their own magical means. Most had arrived early to procure a seat for the spectacle that was to follow, especially given the rumors that spread regarding the banquet the night before.

    Pavick and Karl Stoneshine have special seats set aside for them, and Eltain still has a place within the Winter Court's domain. Everyone else is soon escorted to the large flowers that serve as seats for the Spring Court, and are able to sit back and watch the rest of the Archfey and Sidhe lords filter in. The room feels...tense. With as many beings of significant power present, the tension seems amplified and potent. The only one who truly looks calm is the Prince of Frost himself, who takes a seat on the very tip of the iceberg jutting out of the floor, and looks down over the rest of the Archfey and Eladrin with a knowing half-smirk on his face.

    Queen Tiandra is the last to arrive, but rather than take a seat with the rest of the Summer Court, she sits separately at the head of the Great Hall, and a throne of clouds forms beneath her.

    The Queen smiles, looks down and says in a loud clear voice "On this midsummer's day of the year of the Fallen Acorn, I pronounce the Court of Stars in session. We shall now hear propositions from the Courts." Tiandra takes a seat, and looks out over the crowd expectantly.

    Lady Altshuler, sitting directly behind Aramil, leans forward and whispers into the swordmage's ear. "You're up. No pressure."
    Last edited by Hzurr; 2012-01-12 at 01:47 AM.

  10. - Top - End - #430
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    Aramil nods solemnly as he stands, gaining the attention of the room as he began to speak out in a loud, clear voice. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Courts, the House of Printempest and its allies have unfortunately come to this great gathering to bear news of dire grievances. You all have heard the rumors, and you all know that many Fey Lords have taken gravely ill, including the Archfey Lord Oran himself. I, Aramil Printempest, am here because my own father, Lord Ramila Printempest, is too ill to represent his own family. In addition, many of you have heard, no doubt, of the Winter Court's recent solidification of its power base. My dire news to you here is that the timing of these are not a coincidence. My father, and I expect a good number among the rest of the Lords taken ill, was subject to a poison, and the Winter Court moved to increase their influence over his house. Ladies and gentlemen of the Court, my traveling companions and I have uncovered evidence that we bring before you today, which should convince you that we are in the midst of a shadow war, in which the Feywild is on the brink of a hostile takeover..."

    He raises one arm, pointing directly at the Prince of Frost. "A takeover by its own Prince."

  11. - Top - End - #431
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    The reaction to Aramil's news is mixed. There are some who seem shocked, a few who simply nod, unphased, and a few who seem to be shocked that Aramil brought this up in open court. The crowd outside, however, begins buzzing over the news, and frantic whispers are heard from all around. Queen Tiandra frowns over the accusation against her son, but doesn't appear surprised. "Very well..." She finally says, after the crowd calms down. "By it's own laws, the Court will hear your evidence."

    When Zyrr steps forward, the whispers immediately start up again. Cries of "For Shame" and "Disgraceful" are heard, primarily from the Gloaming Court, but it's echoed throughout the hall as the Drow steps forward. A few of the members of the court prepare to walk out, until a cackling Baba Yaga reminds them that by law, all fey have the right to speak in the Court. The draws the ire of many, which the Baba Yaga only seems to enjoy more.

    Before Zyrr can say a word, a call is immediately made for the cold iron chair, and quickly seconded. The Queen nods, and from somewhere far below, a chair rises up out of the trees, finally coming to rest in the exact middle of the Court. "Forsaken one, we welcome your testimony. Be warned that any elusive language or vagueries will be met with more direct questioning, and that you are bound upon pain of death to speak the truth while on the chair."

  12. - Top - End - #432
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    Cries of outrage. Open gossip. Zyrr can even hear what could be the start of a few riots. He has spent the entirety of last night preparing for this moment, imagining what it could be like, but he is surprised by the extent of the pandemonium that his presence has brought. And despite the gravity of the situation, despite how much it pits the odds against him, the drow is electrified by this chaos he has introduced. The Baba Yaga seems to be enjoying it as well; just one more reason he's starting to like her as much as he fears her.

    The cold iron chair is no surprise. Reconciling the reality of it with his normal secrecy was the majority of the apothecary's mental preparation. His acceptance speech, however, only took about a minute. "Very well." he projects with far more confidence than he is feeling. "Today let one of the Feywild's firstborn be brought to justice by truth from the mouth of a liar. Bring me to this throne of truth; I am ready for the weight of its crown."

    The chair in question is a high-backed seat of seemingly solid metal, devoid of decorations. It is as plain and simple as truth itself, a fact that in and of itself makes the chair a literal eyesore against the elaborate backdrop of the courtroom. The Drow takes his seat, waits for a bored moment for something to happen, then tenses up as if struck by a sudden pain, gripping the simple armrests of the chair until his knuckles go grey. From Zyrr's perspective, it is as if hundreds of tiny needles have been pressed into whatever on his body touches the chair from the back of his head to his ankles. A thought enters his mind; not a compulsion per se, nor a message, but an idea sprung from the drow's own psyche despite him having never encountered this chair before: Do not move. Do not squirm, do not twist, do not turn. Squirm, and you will surely cry of pain. Twist, and you shall scream. Turn entirely from the truth, and you will die.

    "I must admit that, growing up, I thought the lords and ladies of the Feywild were utterly incomprehensible to me, completely alien to the world I knew. Now that I have walked among you, I must admit that there is no civilization so like the Drow undercities than that of the Eladrin. I was invited to an Eladrin estate as a stranger, expecting to find nothing more familiar than the typical murderous glances my way, but instead I found a perfect chance to display my area of special expertise. Back home, beneath the earth, I made everyday poisons designed to kill bodies mortal and fey alike but here I was guided to a drug that specifically kills the fey mind."
    He pauses, both for dramatic suspense and to gauge whether the chair is hurting him more than usual for his stiff-backed theater approach.
    "The fabled Tiemann Root, the old Fomorian herb. My teachers told me it was a myth, a dead poison, but the symptoms were there. Deep in the Feydark, the very bridge between your world and mine, my friends and I found a Fomorian slave farm. With Fomorian guards. And Fomorian herbs, one of which was the Tiemann I used to prepare an antidote for this wasting of the mind. .....I also found this."
    He cups one hand past the armrest, and a piece of metal slides from his sleeve into his hands. The hand flicks it to the floor, an engraved metal disc, for all to see. "I believe it's a badge of some sort." Zyrr pauses, noting some of the looks. "Yes, I took it from somebody, a Winter Eladrin in particular. No, he didn't know about it at the time. .....Yes, he was alive after I took it from him." he answers morosely, without waiting for the questions. "Winter fey bought Tiemann. This much is absolutely true. Also true is that the root, once distilled, is quite easy to mix with common alchemical ingredients to make the true poison; any novice who can measure a cup of sugar could do it. Also true is that a remedy for Teimann poison completely reversed the effects of the mind-sickness plaguing Lord Printempest. These are the facts that I bring to you today from this throne of truth."

    "...And that is all that I know."
    Zyrr concludes when he finishes his recounting. "Any questions? This chair is a little uncomf - aah aah AAH I mean very painful!" A thin line of blood runs down one of the arms of the cold iron chair, and the Drow sits as rigidly as when he first took the seat.

    Zyrr answers questions brought to him perhaps a little too honestly just as predicted, throwing in his own feelings and thoughts at the time and unproven suppositions. But through it all, he does not cry, and he does not scream. To his credit, for once in his life, from the time he is called to the time he limps back to his seat, Zyrr has been completely honest.
    Last edited by Toric; 2012-01-17 at 12:57 AM.
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  13. - Top - End - #433
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    As Zyrr speaks, there are mixed reactions. Some, quite clearly, tune him out and refuse to pay any attention to what he says. The moment he mentions Tienmann, the Baba Yaga and a few of the older Fey's eyes widen as they look towards the winter court. The small disk that Zyrr pulls out also seems to generate no small amount of chatter and looks towards the winter Fey. Certhiel's eyes widen in fear when she sees it, and the look that Kolianda gives her and Andreas is practically murderous. Throughout all of this, however, the Prince of Frost's expression doesn't change, keeping that same half-smirk.

    Zyrr's uncomfortable time on the chair drags on, as details are asked, and eventually this subject of the remedy that he provided for Lord Printempest is brought up, and the additional sample that Zyrr is able to provide is examined with great interest.

    All-in-all, by the time the drow steps down, there are a number of Archfey and mortal fey alike who look at the former assassin with significantly more respect and significantly less hostility than they gave him when he took the chair.

    This reaction is short-lived, however, as Jaquel from the winter court himself takes a seat on the Cold Iron chair; wincing much as Zyrr did.

  14. - Top - End - #434
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    The winter eladrin had seen better days as he was marched before court, a Spring gaoler on either side. The once silky white hair that spilled from his head like drifts of snow had faded, or rather, darkened, becoming a mottled, sickly gray. Similarly, the eladrin's skin had taken on a similar shade of illness, and his cheeks and eyes had sunken considerably. The beautiful ice-blue robes that Jaquel had worn the day that Glydax died below the Feywild, and his life as he knew it ended, had fared no better than he did; ribbons had been slashed through it where Aramil's and Eltain's swords had pierced him numerous times, and the entire fabric had faded and was now leaking wispy strands of string from its tattered edges. A long, languid cloud of dust and soot trailed in his wake; the flower petals that now heralded this Beggar King.

    The chair of pain and metal loomed up before him, and for a moment, those dim-blue eyes drowned in it. His lips were painfully dry, and he wetted them carefully with the tip of his tongue. He turned those eyes of his, those cold, scheming eyes, and cast them along the rows and rows of archfey that now looked down on him with so many unkind faces; the stare of his Prince, cold and lifeless and unsettling, was the most terrible of all. Jaquel breathed, feeling the precipice he stood upon like the blade of a knife. He did not sit in the chair.

    "My lords," The pauper began, standing crooked and bent in his rags and ruin, "My ladies..." Jaquel bowed his head to Queen Tiandra, avoiding the gaze of the Prince, "My lady." Jaquel the Beggar bowed lower, and a slow, sallow smile spread across his face. "I stand before you now broken," He presented his hands, the nails grown sharp and long and yellowy, bound together by a length of cold iron chain, "Broken and chained."

    "This one stands before you, poised to lose everything. Our Prince has no love for this one; see how he stares so?" The Beggar avoided his Prince's ice and malice, "And this one's new friends, can this one call them friends? Bound in chains, and presented alongside such..." He tilts his head to the side, and there is the vaguest hint at a creak, the creak of want for oil. He casts those dim eyes of his to either gaoler, "...fine gentlemen." He says between his yellowing teeth.

    "What does this one have to gain from lying to you, honorable lords and dearest ladies? Death on one side, incarceration on the other..." The Beggar waves one of his hands at the cold iron chair in an elegantly spindly manner. "Is this truly necessary? Is this truly necessary for this nightingale to sing?"

  15. - Top - End - #435
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    From the Summer Court, Jaquel hears a voice call out simply "Yes."

    The chair slides towards him.

  16. - Top - End - #436
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    That greasy smile melted, and the corners of Jaquel's mouth pinched. With the smile fled his semblance of courtesy and the air with which to evoke pity; all was replaced by the slow appearance of a boiling glower. "Have it your way then." The simpering tone was gone from his voice, instead now cold with scorn; there was still some ice left in this beggar that winter had abandoned.

    He flung himself into the tall chair, a bag of bones wrapped in mummifying rags. The glower on his face slowly spread from one ear to the next, masking the bite of the chair that now snaked up his limbs. Shadows played across his face, cast from the chair's high back, shadows that made his sunken face look centuries older. "Now where do I begin..." One by one those dim, dead eyes glanced at each archfey, high in their seats of power. "Where does Jaquel begin. Where does Jaquel the Dead Man begin." The eyes stopped, fixed on the Prince, their respective stares meeting in the center, and causing the sky above the court to rumble with sudden thunder. "Oh I know." There was a spark in those dead eyes.

    "You see, my lords and ladies," Jaquel began again, the glower turning in on itself and spreading into a malevolent smile, "Whatever I say to you now cannot stop the inevitable. The Winter will come, whether this court attempts anything to stop it. So truly, I am dead already. Regardless of what I say here today, my Prince will have my head. And if I don't sing for you today, my new friends in the Spring Court will be sure to have it instead." The Beggar King clasped his hands together in front of him, and rested his legs over the arm of the chair. "So, if I am to die, I may as well have a bit of fun with you. All of you. Especially you." The Beggar King's eyes had not left the Prince's. There was no question of whom he was now speaking.

    "It all began with him. He called the Winter Lords to him; the Winter Lords you think are still squabbling with each other. Winter was to become one, under one banner, under one name; those who disagreed were removed." For just a moment, Jaquel's eyes clouded, and he was no longer the Beggar King. "My house was stubborn, set in their old ways, but I was full of ice and zeal. I was not to be held by their rigidity and stubborn adherence to ancient tradition. I pledged my sword to the Pale Prince against my family's wishes. You could call me lucky then; lucky because House Hoarwood is no longer, and yet here I sit before you." And Jaquel laughed. "Do you know that he even convinced me that they were traitors, and I believed him?" The laugh died, and his smile faded. "They say that even while he burned, Lord Hoarwood did not scream. He burned to death for his old ways. At the time I mocked him, I felt he got what he deserved for his stubbornness. But Lord Hoarwood died for what he believed in; my family died for what they believed in. What will I die for? What will Jaquel Hoarwood die for? I wonder then, if I am truly as lucky as I am made out to be."

    "Three years ago everything changed." The Beggar King had returned. "I was appointed under Certhiel and Andreas, who were under the command of Koliada." The Beggar King drummed his fingers against each other. "The Prince had a new strategy, to weaken the fey that would oppose him, so that nothing could stand against the oncoming Winter. Our work was slow, requiring treaties and marriages and all manner of political nonsense; it made my sword arm itch." The Beggar King stared down at his right hand, and flexed it. "And then...then mercy. Andreas found Tiemann. Deep in the Feydark. Would you believe that the Fomorians had it this entire time? Brutish fools; I half expect they had no idea what they were farming." The Beggar King paused, staring up at the churning sky above the court. "The beholder did though. The beholder and whatever master it had. An odd choice for a servant, an eye tyrant, wouldn't you agree? Known for their schemes and their feelings of utter superiority; it wasn't even an Elder Orb or a Hive Mother. Though perhaps that was for the best, and its schemes were paltry things to this lich master." His hand flew to his mouth. "Oh my, did I say that out loud?"

    "I hated the intrigue we were forced to engage in," The Beggar King continued, after a moment's pause. "When Andreas required someone to transport this Tiemann from the Feydark to our agents elsewhere, I was one of the first to volunteer. Anything to get out of those insufferable courts. This is what has allowed us..." And he stopped, and splayed his fingers against his chest, "Excuse me. Them. It has allowed them to have the influence they have now. Most of the Gloaming on their side, the Green self destructing..." The Beggar locked his ghastly eyes on Tiandra. "You were next you know. I suppose it hardly matters now."

    The Beggar King shrugged, his tale almost all told. "Those five were the ones that slew the beholder, and closed off the farm to the Winter Court. Though I hardly think that was the only farm, not with the amount of Tiemann they have in their possession." He laughed. "I wonder if there are other farms, with other little puppet beholders filled with those fomorians and their tiny gnome slaves."

  17. - Top - End - #437
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    The tension in the air as Jaquel speaks is palpable. Even among those that would dismiss the words of a drow, this testimony from a member of the Winter Court itself seemed damning. They fey outside the hall whispered to one another in hushed tones, and the Archfey and various courtiers looked to each other, lines of worry clearly marking their faces. Tiandra herself seemed to be struggling to maintain the regal demeanor that she had thus maintained. The only one still unperturbed was the Prince himself, who simply watched Jaquel with cold, unblinking eyes.

    Before the Printempests can call another witness, there's a long laugh from the Green Courts. "I'm sorry, have we all had our minds bewitched? What we've heard is much speculation and very little proof." Selephra's voice raises above the din. "We've the word of a Drow who claims to know poison, and the word of an admitted traitor who speculates as to the thoughts and motives of the immortals. This is a waste of our time, and nothing more than the attempts of warmongers to seek your blessing to expand their own holdings."

    From amidst the Summer Courts, this challenge is answered by the Oak Princess. "And what of the poisoning of our father? If these accusations are true, I'll tear down every brick of the Palace of Frozen tears with my own hands!" Verenestra is livid, and she looks at her half-sister with unbridled rage and malice.

    Shouts erupt, and accusations fly. Fey on both sides call out for banners to be raisedas they hurl accusations and curses towards one another. It's only as one lone half-eladrin enters the middle of the Court, and raises his hand that the room finally calms down, and quiets enough for the half-eladrin to speak.

    Eltain looks around the assembled court and takes a deep breath before
    beginning. He looks to Certhiel, begging her once more
    with his eyes to understand.

    "My brothers and sisters. You've heard the words of my companions. The terrible poisonings, the hidden plots, not to mention the forced weakening of the church. But there is one more thing you must hear." He looks around the room, making eye contact with all he can.

    "The crimes committed by the Winter Court are terrible, yes. The secret armings, the power plays, the shocking cruelty. Certainly, punishment is called for against those responsible. But only against those responsible." He pauses.

    "I've seen myself that the people of the Winter Lands live in ignorance and denial of the actions of their leaders. This has been kept even from the people there. They are innocent, victims of the actions of those who rule over them as much as those of the other courts. I know that many of your spirits cry for blood, for vengeance, for retribution for those who have been lost, but do not seek it against those who have done you no wrong." He sighs.

    "Thousands of years ago, the fey went to war with each other. We all know how that turned out. The drow were cast out and cursed, the elves left the Feywild for the safety of the mortal world. And the mighty, glorious empires of the Eladrin people were forever shattered. We've all seen the ruined cities, the ancient ghosts of long-past battles that haunt us to this day." He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again.

    "I beg you all. Do not seek war here, when there is hope for peace. Do not seek to repeat the horrors of the past. We are all Corellon's children, born of his blood and his tears; of his sorrows and his joys. He created all of us, and loves all of us equally, regardless of where we originate. He cares nothing for what court you come from, if you're mortal or an archfey, or if you're even one of the fey to begin with. I call you my brothers and sisters because you are. We all are. When we seek to war with one another, we seek to hurt our own family. We seek, knowingly or not, to repeat the mistakes of the past."

    "I am a servant of Corellon. I serve no court, but all of the fey, equally. I fight and speak in his name, in hopes of preventing the spilling of innocent blood, of protecting the beauty of the world. We cannot afford to destroy each other. We cannot afford to be at each other's throats and let our enemies from without destroy us while we fight within. We must work together, learn to understand one another, so that we may stand strong."


    "Do what you must to the Prince of Frost and the leaders of the Winter Court. I beg you to show mercy even there, but do what needs to be done. But do not punish the innocent people of all the courts with a war. Look around you. To your brothers, and your sisters. Look to those who have fallen already, and realize this: Enough blood has been spilled already. Spilling more will not help them, will not bring back what has been lost. All it will do is destroy further. Corellon teaches us to protect and preserve beauty. Don't seek to destroy it out of blind anger. Seek to love and forgive. Mercy and compassion are the highest forms of beauty. Remember this. Please." He looks around once more; His eyes are wet with tears, but the snow around him has stopped, and the color that had vanished from his skin has returned.

    As Eltain makes his way back towards his seat among the Winter Fey, the iceberg shifts, and the entrance that he was making his way towards ceases to exist, and is now nothing but a wall of ice. Eltain pauses, and looks up, only to find the Prince of Frost looking down at him. "No." is all the Pale Prince says, his first words since the Court had begun. To Eltain, the meaning is perfectly clear.

    As the Half-Eladrin turns to walk away, he hears the sound of a scraping chair behind him. "I've had enough of this. I'm sorry, mother.", and Toveliss hops down off of the iceberg to stand next to Eltain. Certhiel stands, her mouth agape as he two sons stare at her from outside the confines of the Winter Court. She hesitates, thinking for a long minute, but a glance at the Prince of Frost on his throne above finalizes whatever battle she had been waging on the inside. "Very well, then. I have no sons."

    Toveliss gives an understanding nod, and bows, before he and Eltain turn. Every eye is on the two half-brothers as they stride across the Court, step into the silver basket, and are lowered down to the the treetops below.

    Tiandra is silent as Eltain leaves, and for a long minute she only watches the basket through the transparent floor as it decends. Finally, she looks back to Aramil. "The Printempests still have the floor."

    The next to give testimony comes not from the Spring Courts, but rather from the gnomish delegation on the far side. This draws no small amount of whispering as well, especially from the few gnomes in attendance in the stands outside. Many clearly recognize the figure that rumors and folk-tales had sprung up around, and soon every eye in the Court of Stars is on the small figure of Pavick Roslow.

  18. - Top - End - #438
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    Pavick Roslow - Gnome Wizard

    Pavick approached a podium that had been placed for those choosing to use it, pushing a solid wooden chair in front of him. Once the chair was in place, he climbed on top of it. He reached into the deep pockets of his robe, pulling out a scroll which he unrolled on the podium. It took him a moment to get his notes to lay flat on the surface before him. He took the time to do so delicately and deliberately even though every eye in the place was already upon him. Pavick reached up to the small crystal globe set into the front of the podium. He recognized it as a simple enchantment used to pick up sounds and carry them throughout the room and out into the stands. He tapped the globe, making sure it was activated.

    "Excuse me, everyone," Pavick said. Had his voice always seemed so small and shrill? He paused waiting for everyone’s attention, even though he already had it.

    "My name is Pavick Roslow. I am here as a representative from the gnomish delegation. We may be a young group in the eyes of this assembly, but I hope that you will give us the honor of listening to a humble request."

    Pavick waved his arms in a grand gesture, and an image appeared above his head. It was an overhead view of the frozen waterfalls housing the city of Celanthir. As Pavick spoke, the image zoomed in on the city, slowly approaching Certhiel’s home.

    "I am here to speak on behalf of the Winter Court." A shocked reaction spread through the crowed, from hushed, excited whispers all the way through shrieks of anger at the prospect. Pavick waited, not letting his face show any emotion, as the crowd died down. By the time they have, the view in his image is floating in through one of the windows of the Sharma family estate. It comes to rest on a scene of Pavick, Lady Labri, and Lord Hivernim laughing together.

    "Please, allow me to continue. Recently, I was invited to stay with Lady Certhiel for a time. During this time, I was introduced to Lady Labri and Lord Hivernim. The two of them were eager to speak with me, especially after they heard that I would be here as a part of the gnomish delegation. After a little light conversation, they turned the discussion to politics." The scene above followed Pavick’s narration.

    "They wanted to know what concerns the gnomish people would be bringing to these proceedings. I, of course shared that I was troubled by the continuing enslavement of the gnomish people. I have to say, I was shocked by their immediate assurances that the Winter Court would support the emancipation of my kin. I had long been aware of the Winter Court’s association with slavers. In fact, the first gnomes I helped to liberate were held by Fomorians that were in league with members of their houses. But still they made their promises seem sincere." The eyes of Lord Hivernim and Lady Labri twinkled menacingly above.

    "But of course, there was to be a price. What things in life can be had without cost? The cost was to be helping to unite the Feywild under the banner of one of their archfey. They claimed that you, all the wise fey of the realm, could not come to an agreement to act with solidarity against the drow problem. They claimed that you were not worthy to govern yourselves or your own affairs. That without prostrating yourselves before the rule of one of their own, you would never be able to unite against a common threat." By now, initially Pavick’s meek voice has changed to a bold tone.

    "So, the beginning of that price is paid now. I stand here before you, adding my voice to the throng. They wished that I should speak before the assembly, as a voice to unite the Courts. I do so now. But as I said, that is only the beginning." In the image above, Lord Hivernim and Lady Labri grinned evilly as they schemed to enlist Pavick’s help.

    "They knew to expect that there would be resistance, and of course they would want all the help they could get against whatever blowback there might be. So, should just one more small voice at this event not prove convincing enough, they also requested the help of the gnomish people. Their requests were for any form of support that the gnomes could provide up to AND INCLUDING military support should it be needed. I ask you, will this come to open war? They have just dismissed and disowned one of their own, for speaking out in favor of peace. To me, it seems that battle may have been in their plans all along."

    "So before I leave you, I must fulfill my promise. I encourage all of you, wise leaders of the Feywild, come together. Unite! Put aside all of the problems of the past, at least for a time."


    He paused for a span of three heartbeats, then continued his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I tell you, you should cast down your pride and bow down before the Winter Court’s rule." He turned, about to step off the podium, but paused. He turned back to the podium and the crowds for a moment, and added as an afterthought, "Or, I suppose you might also unite to reject their presumptuous stratagems for power," he said without any sarcastic intent. He shrugged, dismissing the image, and stepped down, pushing his chair back the way he’d come.

  19. - Top - End - #439
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    By the time Pavick finishes, the entire Court is in an uproar, demanding the issue be put to a vote. From the surrounding stands, the few gnomes in attendance cheer and whistle loudly as Pavick takes his seat, while the two Winter Lords who had been so eager to enlist Pavick slump back in their chairs worriedly.

    As Tiandra tries to bring everything to order, a loud drunken voice calls out "Whaddabout the one that the WitchaFates spoke about. Whasshe got to say?" Hyrsam's bleating call seems to rise above the din, and after a brief moment where everyone translates drunken satyr speech to common (which isn't that difficult, seeing as it's the normal speech of satyrs), all eyes turn to the half-elf seated in the Spring Courts.

    Tiandra nods, and looks to Lucan. Master...Thoene, was it? Do you have anything you wish to add?"

  20. - Top - End - #440
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    Lucan - Half-elf Bard

    "Me?" Lucan asks, startled. He looks around at all the Fey, the beautiful, colorful, angry eladrin and others surrounding him, and swallows nervously. That does not look like a friendly audience. "No. No, I don't think I have anything to add." There's a loud twittering, and suddenly Lena's in his face, so close that he has to cross his eyes to see her.

    "But I don't want to say anything!" Lucan protests.

    Lena gets quite loud in response to that.

    "Really? Well, if you want to . . ." Lucan turns to Queen Tiandra, bows deeply, and says, "If it pleases Your Majesty, my familiar would like to address the Court."

  21. - Top - End - #441
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    There's a light chuckle that goes through the Great Hall, and Tiandra arches an eyebrow. "Very well, I'll allow it...

  22. - Top - End - #442
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    Lena - Coure Attendant Familiar
    As translated by Lucan

    Lena flits up to Pavick's podium, and starts to speak in her high pitch garble. Her voice comes back to her a hundred-fold, is picked up by the orb, and magnified again, until there's a continuous high screech that throws Lena from the podium. Lucan's there to catch her, and the screech quickly dies down.

    "Um, how about I translate?" Lucan says.

    Lena gives a sharp, vaguely triumphant nod, and Lucan takes his place at the podium. Lena starts twittering, and Lucan repeats what she says, "'Lords and ladies, ladies and gentlemen--that's sort of repetitive, isn't it? No, don't repeat that!' Ow!" Lucan rubs the back of his head where Lena has just hit him. She's small, but fierce!

    There's a brief, untranslated exchange, and then Lucan takes the podium again, with Lena hovering in front of him, so he has enough warning to duck next time. She begins to speak again, and Lucan repeats her.

    "'Members of the Court!'" she says (through Lucan). "'Prior to coming here, I spent time in Celanthir, a city of the Winter Fey. And I have come to tell you that Celanthir looked to be a city preparing for war!'"

    She pauses dramatically, giving Lucan a chance to say, "Really? What makes you think that?" She turns to glare at Lucan, and he raises his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'll just translate!"

    She turns back to her audience, and says, "'My master will confirm what I saw, though he did not understand the significance himself. I did. I saw a city where the demand for food had increased, without a similar increase in population, as if an army elsewhere was being fed. Where supplies of spell components had run short, bought by Hoarfrost Academy as if being stockpiled. And where a new peace had been made with an ancient enemy, the goblins, so that forces could be focused elsewhere. And finally, a city where the demand for the work of a Frost Giant Smith had greatly increased.'"

    She looks around. Most of what she had said had been speculation and reasoned guesses, rather than fact. Now to focus on the evidence. "'My master spoke to a pixie named Darryl Flutterbum. He had a bit of a crush on me, and so opened up to us.' Oh, I didn't realize that!" Lucan adds brightly, before stopping himself. "Oh, sorry, go on." Lena gives Lucan one more scowl before continuing. "'He told us a sad tale, of how an Archfey drove his people from his home.' And about what the pixies did to the Lings. But, I suppose now's not the time for that."

    By now, Lena's just rolling her eyes at another interruption. Lucan eventually shuts up. "'He told us about the cave his people had lived in, and we went to see what had really happened there. We found a cave guarded by Winter Fey, assigned by Certhiel herself to guard the pixies' former home. Inside, were dangerous magical energies, we were told. And indeed there were. One of us managed to slip inside, and within, we found a rift to the Elemental Chaos, and Frost Giants, using the energy from the rift, to create weapons! Master Roslow, could you give Lucan the dagger.' I think she means you, Pavick," Lucan adds helpfully.

    Assuming Pavick hands the dagger over, Lucan lifts it for all to see. Lena flies a slow circle around it. "'This is the fruit of that labor, just one dagger among enough arms and armor to equip an army, evidently made for eladrin, under the watchful eye of Certhiel.'" She flies around the podium, looking at each of the Courts in turn. "'The Winter Fey are preparing for war. Tell me, who do you think the Winter Fey mean to make war against?'"

    She leaves the podium, and after a moment of confusion, Lucan does as well. "I bet I know," he says as he steps down.

  23. - Top - End - #443
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    As Lena speaks, chuckles are heard throughout the chamber, but the longer she speaks, the more the laughter turns to contemplation and outrage. By the time she finishes, many in the audience are openly calling the Winter Fey traitors and villains.

    The chattering ends quickly, as Queen Tiandra bangs an obsidian gavel on the edge of the high-backed chair she is seated in, and stands. "We have heard the accusations, and the evidence. Does the Lord of Winter wish to refute these claims?"

    The Prince of Frost doesn't move for a long time, But he eventually replies, his voice a low monotone. "I do not."

    This again causes murmuring and stirring throughout the room and from the stands outside, until Tiandra again bangs the obsidian gavel. "Very Well. I hereby call upon the Court of Stars to judge what we have heard. Those who find merit in the accusations of House Printempest of the Spring Court must stand."

    Before she can finish the words, there is a rustling of branches as the entirety of the Summer Court stands. Before long, Elias, Stobhan, and the Nixie Queen from the Court of Coral, and all its Sidhe families rise to their feet.

    Next to Pavick, Karl Stoneshine slowly stands, muttering "I hope you're right about this..."

    From the Gloaming, there's a long pause, until the Prince of Hearts, hair still flowing as if blown by a summer wind, and a few of the Sidhe Lords stand. The House of Flowers remains seated, glaring at Zyrr.

    Lady Altshuler and Lord Ressort look at each other, and slowly rise to their feet behind Aramil.

    As one, almost every eye turns to the Green Courts. Selephra, on a throne of Brambles and twisted vines sits unmoving, smiling at Tiandra with teeth like rotted bark. All of the other Archfey and Sidhe of the Green look at Selephra uncomfortably, but do not rise. The only exception is the drunken Hyrsam, who rises to his feet with a wobble and a wink at Lucan, even as the Bramble Queen glares.

    Tiandra waits for a few more moments before nodding, and motioning all to sit. "All those who find these accusations without merit?"

    As One, the Winter Court stands, joined soon after by the Green Court. From the Court of Coral, Scamander slowly rises, giving Elias a pointed look as he does.

    The Baba Yaga slowly stands, but rather than remain standing she slowly hobbles out of the Court, cackling to herself as diakkas swarm around her feet.

    Finally, the Maiden of the Moon and Queen Mab from the Gloaming rise, soon followed by the House of Flowers and remaining Sidhe.

    For the first time, the Prince of Frost stands. "Well...that is no clear majority, which means the final decision rests with you, your grace" he gives a low bow, and picks up his icicle tipped scepter. The Pale Prince walks slowly down the side of the iceberg and across the hall, coming to a halt in front of Queen Tiandra. "What will your judgment be, mother?" He voice is sharp as crystal, and the light shimmers off of his eyes like diamonds in moonlight.

    Tiandra looks down at him, and bites her lower lip. "I take no joy in this." She takes a deep breath, and in a loud voice proclaims: "I, Tiandra; the Summer Queen; First of the Archfey; Guardian of Senaliesse; Blessed of the Seldarine; the Grower and Bringer of Light do hereby pronounce you guilty of treason."Another murmur runs through the crowd, as Tiandra steps down off of her throne, and faces the Prince of Frost. "You are hereby banished from the lands of the Faerie. You are forfeit all lands, titles, and possessions. May you seek out the mercy of the Seldarine for what you have done." The room is silent. She bows her head, and begins walking back to the throne.

    "Wait."

    A chill settles over the room as the word cuts through the silence like a razor made of ice. Tiandra pauses, one foot in the air, and turns her head slightly.

    "You did not hear if I accepted my banishment." The Prince of Frost raises his scepter, and points it at the Queen. Tiandra turns back to face him, looking confused.

    A brilliant blue light flashes. The crackling sound that follows is deafening, as if a thousand lightning bolts had struck just feet away. As you gather your senses and look back, the smoke and steam clears, and you can still see the Prince of Frost standing strong, scepter outstretched. At the tip of the scepter, encased in a block of crackling black ice, is Queen Tiandra, a look of surprise still frozen on her face.

    "I do not." The Prince finishes, and turns to face the crowd now watching him with a look of horror. "I hereby disband the Court of Stars for all time, and proclaim myself High-Exarch of the Feylands. All Faerie, immortal and mortal alike, are subject to my bidding." As the Prince speaks, the ever-present sunlight of Senaliesse begins to fade, as the sky above grows cloudy and dark. The warm summer breeze takes on a chill, and the green leaves of the trees begin fading and falling to the ground below. "You have one week to recognize my rulership of Faerie, else your fate will be the same as the all-powerful Summer Queen." He points with his scepter at the frozen figure of Tiandra.

    His words echo throughout the hall, as every eye is fixed on the Prince. He looks around the Great Hall in mock confusion. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear. The Court is disbanded." His voice drops to an icy growl. "Flee. Now."

    From across the Great hall and the stands outside, no one moves or says a word, the only sound a cackling laugh from the Bramble Queen. Then, chaos erupts. From the stands and the hall, the Fey flee in terror, scrambling to get out of the Prince's gaze. In the Green Court, Hyrsam is seized by a mass of vines, and dragged into the ground as the Bramble Queen leads her loyal into a large oak tree where they disappear from sight. The waterfall that plunges down over the Court of Coral intensifies to a thundering cacophony of water, only to slow to a trickle leaving no signs of the fleeing Archfey of the oceans and streams. The Summer and Gloaming Courts are in absolute chaos, with Fey fleeing in every way imaginable, some by teleporting away; and others by jumping off the side into the treetops below.

    The Prince watches it all with narrowed eyes and a thin grin spread across his face, until his gaze falls on the few remaining creatures in the Spring Courts. His eyes narrow on Lucan. "Koliada..." he calls out, and the Winter Witch is by his side immediately. "Bring me the bard's head, and the Printempest boy bound and gagged..."

    Koliada smiles, as she draws a long whip of frost crystals. The Prince gives one final smile, before disappearing in a gust of snowflakes. From out of the iceberg, four familiar looking Frost hounds step out. As they move towards you, a large tree form moves out of the Green lands, and a eladrin woman with the sigil of Queen Mab eyes you from the Gloaming.

    MAP:
    Spoiler
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    KEY:
    Spoiler
    Show


    Initiative:

    Zyrr - R9
    Shep - Q12
    Lucan - P15
    Aramil - O10
    Pavick - D15

    Koliada - G6
    Dryad Vine Master - Q5
    Mab's Fading Dream - A12
    Frost Hound - A4, D5, H2, I1

    Map features:
    Spoiler
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    - Creatures with the Fey type starting next to the Cold Iron throne are weakened until the start of their next turn.
    - Creatures starting or ending their turn adjacent to the frozen Queen Tiandra take 20 cold damage. This ignores all resistances.

  24. - Top - End - #444
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    The Shepherd
    HP
    99/99; Surges 7/7
    AC 35, Fortitude 29, Reflex 32, Will 33; Enemies do not get a +2 bonus to attack rolls against Shep when they have combat advantage
    Against creatures granting him combat advantage (Koliada): AC 39, Fortitude 31, Reflex 34, Will 35

    They had dared to attack Tiandra. The Shepherd leapt to his feet and cracked his neck so loudly that it echoed off the sky above. They had frozen perhaps the first person that had ever greeted the Shepherd with such a warm smile. This would not stand; every piece of him that bore even a thimble-full of shepherdly pride would not stand for it. The Shepherd had no words, he only tensed his jaw, and locked his eyes on the archfey across the room.

    It was just about time the Shepherd found out if an archfey was truly as frightening as they claimed to be.

    Spoiler
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    Minor: Centered Defense

    Move: Swift Flight to move 11 squares to F4

    Standard: Furious Bull
    Attack vs. Frost Hound's Fort: (1d20+19)[29]
    Attack vs. Frost Hound's Fort: (1d20+19)[21]
    If either of those hit, Shep will use Centered Flurry of Blows as a no action against Koliada to slide her adjacent to him, and she'll take 7 damage. This will make her grant combat advantage to him. I'll factor combat advantage in below, but if both attacks miss, assume the attack is 2 points lower.
    Attack vs. Koliada's Fort: (1d20+21)[32]
    Damage: (2d6+17)[22] damage and the target is dazed until the end of my next turn. If the hounds are not minions, Shep will slide them adjacent to him.

    If first two attacks missed, but his attack against Koliada hits, he'll use Centered Flurry of Blows after the attack to slide her adjacent to him, she'll take 7 damage, and she'll grant combat advantage to him.

    Action Point: Standard Action: Tormented Spirit
    Attack vs. Koliada's Fort: (1d20+21)[38]
    Damage: (3d6+17)[29] (+5 from Aramil's Resourceful Leader feat, so 34 damage total) necrotic damage, and the target is weakened until the end of my next turn.

    Note: If Koliada attacks Shep during her turn with a melee attack, and hits him, Shep will retaliate with Water Gives Way as an immediate interrupt.
    Last edited by Haberdashery; 2012-01-20 at 10:50 PM.

  25. - Top - End - #445
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    Aramil
    HP 118/118 Surges 29, 10/10
    AC 32 Fort 26 Ref 29 Will 27

    Aramil says nothing as he draws his sword. The others knew what to do as well as he did. Sparks crackle about his body as he adjusts his arcane wards, and the start of a storm lights his blade as he suddenly reappears next to the dryad.
    Spoiler
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    Minor: Impenetrable Warding: +4 to the NADs.

    Move: Armathor's Step to P6, +2 to next attack against the dryad. Cloak of Translocation grants +2 to AC and Reflex.

    Standard: Burning Blade on the dryad
    Attack vs AC - (1d20+23)[29]
    Hit: Fire Damage - (2d8+13)[23]
    Effect: Aramil's melee attacks deal +4 fire damage.

    AC 34 Fort 30 Ref 35 Will 31
    Last edited by Mando Knight; 2012-01-20 at 01:23 PM.

  26. - Top - End - #446
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    Pavick - Gnome Wizard
    HP 76/76, AC 28, Fort 24, Reflex 28, Will 29


    Pavick sighed heavily. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. How had the fey let it come to this? They had failed, this was not supposed to happen. He quickly wiped them away on the sleeve of his robe. There was little time for that now.

    Pavick reached into his pocket, pulling out a magic orb as he made his way across the battlefield, trying to get a little closer to his allies. Stopping near the iron throne, Pavick turns over his shoulder and makes a quick circle with his finger tip as he points back toward Mab's fading dream. A glowing circle appears in mid-air behind her and sucks her backward into it.

    Spoiler
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    Minor: Ready orb.

    Move: to I-15.

    Standard: Sequester on Mab's Fading Dream. Attack vs. Fort - (1d20+18)[26] Hit: She is banished to a pocket dimension, save ends.

    Free: (Only if Pavick missed) He'll use his Orb of Inescapable Consequence's Daily Power to have the power effect her as if it had hit.

    Remember, everyone takes a -2 penalty to saves against Pavick's spells.

  27. - Top - End - #447
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    Zyrr (Drow Scoundrel/Alchemist) HP 90/90, Bloodied value 45, Surges Used 1/8 (at end of turn, see spoiler)
    AC 28, Fort 23, Ref 31, Will 26, Cold Resist 10, Invisible (at end of turn, see spoiler)


    The Hag stood. She then left, but still she stood. Was that a vote for the Winter Court? Was it a declaration of abstinence from the proceedings? The more the Drow ponders it, the more he decides he likes her as much as he fears her. This sentiment is solidified along with Tiandra; despite all the chaos, caused partly by him, only two thoughts run through Zyrr's mind. First, did the Hag Mother predict or know this was going to happen? And second...... Lolth would be so proud of the Prince of Frost right now.

    People fleeing, weapons drawn - including his own dagger, which he didn't remember pulling out - the time for all this uncomfortable standing around and talking things over has passed. Now is the time for the familiar sights and sounds of bloodshed.

    Frost hounds. Zyrr remembers those, and this time he's prepared for their breath. In his free hand - a priceless tool that his dual-wielding cousins are completely oblivious to - he raises a bottle to his lips, and gulps down a magicked wine that fills him with a supernatural warmth. An instant later, large seeds scatter from his now-vacant sunflower seat as a shadow zips forward, crashing into the Winter Witch. For a moment, Zyrr is visible beside the Winter Fey, but a swirl of flowers passes the Drow on all sides and leaves nothing beside Koliada but a blood spatter.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Minor Action: Drinking my lv14 Potion of Cold Resistance. I lose a healing surge, and gain 10 resistance to Cold damage until the end of the encounter.

    Move Action to move to L8, then Standard Action to Charge to H5 and make a Melee Basic Attack on Koliada.
    Attack - (1d20+27)[30] vs AC. Damage - (1d4+16)[20] + Sneak Attack - (3d8)[7].

    Spending an Action Point to make another Standard Action. Zyrr becomes invisible until the end of the next turn due to his Shadow-Fade Action benefit, and attacks with Descending Shadows.
    Attack - (1d20+27)[45] vs both Reflex and Will. If either hit, Slaying Action Sneak Attack - (3d8)[14].
    If Reflex hits: Damage - (1d4+16)[17] + 5 from Aramil's Resourceful Leader feat, and the target is slowed until the end of my next turn.
    If Will hits: Damage - (1d4+16)[20] + 5 from Aramil's Resourceful Leader feat, and the target is blinded until the end of my next turn.
    Last edited by Toric; 2012-01-20 at 10:50 PM.
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  28. - Top - End - #448
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    Lucan - Half-elf bard
    HP 92/92 AC 30 Fort 24 Ref 25 Will 29

    Lucan feels a moment's panic at the realization that Koliada is coming right for him, but he manages to stifle it with singing. It is a new song, one none of his companions have heard before, but the martial air reassures them, as if no matter how badly they are hurt, all they have to do is ask, and healing will come. Then he draws his bow, nocks an arrow, and still singing, sights along it to the dryad, the enemy he has the clearest shot at, and fires, cursing her with retribution for any damage she might do.

    Spoiler
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    Minor
    Draw bow

    Minor
    Skald's Aura
    Any ally within 5 squares of Lucan can spend a minor action to cause himself or an ally to spend a surge, and regain surge + 3d6 hp.

    Standard
    Use Karmic Wound on Dryad
    Attack - (1d20+20)[35]
    Damage - (2d10+11)[19]
    On hit, enemy takes additional (1d10+4)[6] damage if they hit with an attack before the end of my next turn.

  29. - Top - End - #449
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Planetar

    Join Date
    Jul 2004
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    Male

    Default Re: Adventures in Sigil - IC - Part II [4E]

    DM Post

    The party quickly scatters to attack the enemy. The Shepherd, filled with righteous anger over the fall of Tiandra, lands in the middle of the Frost Hounds and Koliada, his staff spinning as he hits the ground. Being this close to Koliada chills the Shepherd to the bone, even as he attacks (15 cold damage from her Freezing Aura). One of the Frost Hounds goes sprawling, but the second manages to duck out of the way. The Shepherd's crook also finds Koliada but the wiry monk quickly steps back as the Archfey strikes back at him in retaliation. Shep follows up the attack with a devastating barrage of goatly spirits!

    Aramil turns his attention to the creature from the Green Court, and slips his blade past the dryad's defenses. The creature's branches are too damp to be threatened by Aramil's flames, but the dryad shrieks in pain at the blade driving into her barky flesh.

    With a flick of his wrist, Pavick tears open a small hole in the fabric of the feywild. The Eladrin woman screams, as she's pulled backwards through the opening, into the nothingness beyond.

    Zyrr, savvy enough to prepare a potion to protect him moves up behind the Archfey, digging his knife deep into her back. The alchemical mixture isn't enough to completely protect him from the cold, but it does take the edge off (5 cold damage after resistances). Spinning around he slices twice quickly, once across the archfey's legs before following through with a slash across her eyes, causing the Winter Witch to let loose with a yelp of pain.

    Lucan, fully aware of the bounty on his head, sends an arrow after the dryad to the north, jinxing it against any future attacks.

    As Koliada tries to see through the stinging pain caused by Zyrr's cut across her eyes, she growls out "Does it bother you what happened to the Summer bitch? Perhaps you too would like to experience an eternity in ice?" The crown of icicles on her head Glistens, and Shep and Zyrr can feel themselves being pulled towards it, into a land of never ending frost. Shep manages to resist the pull, but seeing Zyrr being pulled in he frantically dives in the way, pulling his Drow buddy from the twinkling lights that threatened to imprison him.

    The dryad, seeing the vulnerable Pavick standing in the middle of the room shoots out a long vine towards him, while a smaller vine tries to wrap around Aramil's legs. Aramil easily side-steps the vine, but Pavick finds himself entangled, then dragged across the room! (13 damage, grabbed) The dryad swings a heavy branch that Pavick is mostly able to avoid, but part of it still catches him on the side of the head (19 damage)

    The Eladrin from the gloaming courts struggles desperately to return from the void to which she was banished, and manages to succeed. She gasps for breath, as her eyes are drawn to Pavick.

    The Frost Hounds look to Koliada, who snaps her fingers and points at Lucan, even as the creature that Shep had attacked manages to stand back up. The four ice creatures bound across the room, trying to bring down the bard. Lucan tries and beat them away, but three manage to get through the half-elf's defenses. (33 damage, marked)

    MAP:
    Spoiler
    Show


    Initiative:

    Zyrr - F5 - 5 damage
    Shep - H6 - 15 damage
    Lucan - P15 - 22 damage - marked
    Aramil - P6
    Pavick - Q7 - 32 damage - grabbed, weakened

    Koliada - G6 - (155 damage - weakened, blinded, slowed)
    Dryad Vine Master - Q5 (48 damage)
    Mab's Fading Dream - A12
    Frost Hound - O14,P14,O15,O16

    Attack Rolls:
    Spoiler
    Show

    Koliada
    Crown Of Ice vs Zyrr's Fort: (1d20+15)[27] (including the -5 from blinded) - HIT
    Damage: (3d10+10)[18] (Half for weakened) & you're trapped inside of the icicle crown, escape DC 23 (details in spoiler)
    Spoiler
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    While trapped, you don't occupy a square and you have neither line of sight nor line of effect to anything except Koliada and other creatures trapped by Koliada. Nothing has line of sight or line of effect to you, except other creatures that are trapped. If you attack Kolianda with a close or area attack, you also target every other creature trapped by Koliada. If you end your turn still trapped, you take 30 cold damage.
    Overuled by Shep's Immediate Interrupt.
    Action Point:
    Crown Of Ice vs Shep's Fort
    (1d20+15)[18] (including -5 from blinded
    Damage: (3d10+9)[31] (Half for weakened) - MISS

    Dryad Vine Master:
    Grasping vine:
    Attacking Aramil's Ref: (1d20+16)[30] - Miss
    Attacking Pavick's Ref: (1d20+16)[29]
    Damage: (2d6+10)[13] - grabbed (escape DC 21) & weakened until the grab ends

    minor - reel in

    Action Point (if either grasping Vine Hit):
    Branch Slam: (1d20+18)[22] vs Pavick's AC
    Damage: (4d12+13)[38] (Miss Half)

    Mab's Fading Dream
    Saving Throw: (1d20-2)[14]

    Frost Hound
    Attack vs Lucan's AC: (1d20+20)[35] - Damage: 11
    Attack vs Lucan's AC: (1d20+20)[26] - Damage: 11 Shep Killed this one.
    Attack vs Lucan's AC: (1d20+20)[29] - Damage: 11 - MISS
    Attack vs Lucan's AC: (1d20+20)[39] - Damage: 11
    (last one to hit you marks you)
    Last edited by Hzurr; 2012-01-21 at 01:09 PM.

  30. - Top - End - #450
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Haberdashery's Avatar

    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    On an island!

    Default Re: Adventures in Sigil - IC - Part II [4E]

    The Shepherd
    HP 84/99; Surges 7/7
    AC 35, Fortitude 29, Reflex 32, Will 33; Enemies do not get a +2 bonus to attack rolls against Shep when they have combat advantage
    Against creatures granting him combat advantage (Koliada): AC 39, Fortitude 31, Reflex 34, Will 35

    Cold. Whatever archfey were, they were cold. Shep had felt mountain peaks that felt like deserts compared to the biting air that circled the wild-eyed archfey. He had spun around just a moment before, to bash the drow out of the way of Koliada's grip, and then bent like a yew tree to avoid the winter-witch's icy invocation, but now he felt as if he had been standing in a snowdrift for nigh on four hours. The snow on his shoulders seemed to think the very same.

    The Shepherd shook his shaggy bearded head, shedding flakes of rime like a sheep dog shedding dust. The Little Grandmother had shown the Shepherd just how unpleasant being trapped in a crook had been; he could think of no better thing to employ. The crook snaked out, lashed itself around the winter-witch's throat, and he sent her spinning with a flick of his arm, right into his left leg, which thudded her further. His last blow, from the butt of the crook, was ineffective, bouncing harmlessly against the ice fey's oddly hard skin.

    Spoiler
    Show

    Standard Action: Drunken Monkey
    Attack vs. Koliada's Will: (1d20+21)[40]
    Damage: (1d8+17)[21] and Koliada is slid 2 squares to H7, and grants combat advantage to Shep until the end of his next turn.. She then makes a melee basic attack against herself with a +5 bonus to the attack roll.

    No Action: Centered Flurry of Blows Koliada takes 7 damage, is slid to I7.

    Minor Action: Rain of Hammers Ki Focus daily power to use Crane's Wings
    Attack vs. Koliada's Fortitude: (1d20+21)[24]
    Damage: (1d10+17)[20] and Koliada is pushed to J9.

    Move Action: Shep moves to I10, avoiding opportunity attacks from Koliada.

    Again, if Koliada hits Shep with a melee attack during his turn, he'll be using Water Gives Way.
    Last edited by Haberdashery; 2012-01-21 at 03:26 AM.

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