The Town in the Ruins IC

[hoverfrog]

"Definitely not, Rogar. She likes to talk and discuss history and current affairs. It's just that you can't force her to do anything or try to bully her. I mean she is a ghost, what could you do to her that hasn't already be done. You just have to be a bit sensitive and talk to her about the things that she's interested in." She gives the dwarf another look, "You've lived a lot longer than most humans or half orcs, you must have picked up a bit about the local area. Just talk about that. Emily lives vicariously through the news she gets from me so you need to give her a good reason to talk. This news about the daemon and hell hounds will probably really interest her. I would have come to tell her about it anyway even if she wasn't an expert on the past. She's my friend too, so be nice. Alright?"

Having explained herself Prax extends her senses to detect any hint that the ghost is watching them, a chill in the air, animals growing unnaturally quiet, misting of their breath, a faint glow of ectoplasm, anything that might hint at her presence

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Perception check (1d20+2)[22]

[BananaPhone]

Xaan was quiet in the back and gave only a curt nod when Prax spoke about showing grace to the ghost. Mannerisms were a point of interest for the half-orc and thus the green-skin had been planning on being her usual charming, polite self all along.

[4th number]

The catacombs stretch ahead of you into the dark, the masonry even and regular this close to the entrance. The broad hallway is lined with markers indicating who rests behind the walls, and every fifty feet or so a stone sarcophagus sits in the middle of the hall. There are holders for torches spaced regularly, some even containing crumbling specimens from centuries past.

Prax leads the way through the tombs in search for her friend. About a hundred yards into the darkness, your group reaches a four-way intersection, marked with stone symbols carved into the floor: A sun motif in the direction you came from, a sword pointed straight ahead, a feather (or perhaps a leaf) to the right, and a stylized skull to the left.

You hear a horrifying shriek from straight ahead-- a young woman's voice full of mortal fear, but accompanied by awful undertone that gets into your bones and makes your stomach churn.

Seconds later, a hideous little thing flies toward you out of the darkness faster than a man could run. It's roughly spherical, the size of a pumpkin. Its mouth is enormous, taking up almost all of what might otherwise be considered a face. Jagged, uneven teeth grind and gnash, and it lets out a shrill eeeeeeeeee as it barrels toward you.

[Quellian-dyrae]

The moment he heard that cry, Ardan's face grew still and his hammer slapped into a fighting grip. He started ahead determinedly, but when the...thing came into sight, his focus changed from advancement to keeping between it and his allies, ready to strike it if it got close. "Prax?" he hissed as loud as he dared, hoping the healer had some insight into what they had encountered.

It took an effort of will not to call out to the imperiled person that help was on the way. Tactics won out; he did not wish to alert any other potential foes.

*Ardan advances to the front, and readies an action to attack the thing if it comes within reach. If he can do that with a five-foot step, will also use a move action to Detect Evil.*

[hoverfrog]

Some knowledge checks to determine what the flying mouth is

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Arcana (1d20+8)[16]
Nature (1d20+8)[24]
Planes (1d20+8)[18]

"That thing is a cacodaemon. They eat souls," Prax yells as she unhitches and loads her crossbow, "They are summoned as familiars, don't let it get away."

"They eat souls. Winter's light, Emily!" she is very concerned for her friend who is really a disembodied soul.

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Move action to retrieve a weapon and another one to load it.

Arden will have to explain tactics to Prax one day.

[BigKahuna]

Rogar was a little scared by the creature as he had never seen anything like it before but, as Rogar's general response to being scared was to get really angry and hit whatever was scaring him, this is exactly what he chose to do. He yelled to Prax, "I'm on it" and then charged at the creature, drew his greataxe and attacked it.

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Rogar begins to use rage as a free action before he charges so he gets +4 to STR and CON. He is also power attacking so, with the +2 to hit charge bonus (-2 to AC until next round as well), his rolls will be (1d20+7)[19] to hit and if he hits, (1d12+12)[18] for damage.

[BananaPhone]

Having followed in a cheerful mood, Xaan peered about the catacombs with nay a distraction for the darkness - her orcish eyes ensured she would not be preyed upon by the absence of light.

When the thing rocketed out of the murk, the half-orc sprung into action by drawing up her ranged weapon and positioning herself behind the two more capable melee fighters. Her time with the city-watch of the Elves proved useful for educating her in both the detection of things and the proper response.

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OOC:
Move action to draw out her light crossbow and reading an action to shoot at it if the dwarf fails to stop it and it draws closer.

[4th number]

Rogar steps up and swings his axe in a smooth sidearm motion, reminding one vaguely of a child playing thwackball in the street, albeit with a larger and toothier ball than usual. The axe rips through the daemon, shattering teeth and tearing flesh.

The little beast lets out what is clearly a foul oath in some hellish language, and vanishes instantly. For a moment, the only sound in the tombs is the tink of broken fangs hitting the ground, then Poldice pipes up.

"Did you kill it?"

From further ahead, a voice that Prax recognizes as Emily, though it's filled with a rage that she's never heard from her friend: "I've GOT you, foul thing! I'll TEAR YOU--" Silence again.

Map:

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The lowercase p is Poldice, and the C indicates where the daemon was when Rogar hit it.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardan gave a fierce grin as Rogar cleaved the thing in one shot. No doubt about it, the dwarf was a beast. As he heard the voice, he started ahead, running as fast as he could in his armor in the direction it was coming from, eyes peeled for danger, clearly no longer concerned with surprise. He did not like how the voice ahead had so suddenly cut out, and frankly? Seeing Rogar absolutely trounce the little daemon replaced caution with righteous valor.

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Run actions until I come within fifteen feet of a visible threat, trigger a trap or hazard, am targeted by enemy action, come to a choice of direction, or have to slow due to terrain or fatigue. Or a party member tells me to stop, heh.

[hoverfrog]

Prax jogs alongside Arden. Her longer legs make it easy to keep up with the dwarf and she wanted to keep a wary eye out to alert him.

[BigKahuna]

Rogar was very happy with the result of his brutal axe slash as it got rid of the scary monster. Unfortunately, once Rogar gets angry and ready to hit things, it is very hard for him to stop. So he charged off after the screaming voice in the hope of finding more things to hit with his big, and surprisingly sharp, axe.

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Rogar is still enraged and spends the round running. He moves 120 feet towards the voice unless: he sees another monster, he is attacked by another monster, he sees the ghost, or he is otherwise forced to come to a stop.

[BananaPhone]

Keeping her eyes alert and ready to pay attention to the little flying lizard perched on her shoulder, Xaan follows the others, crossbow in hand.

[4th number]

Rogar charges forward madly, followed closely by Ardan (along the left wall) and Prax (on the right). Poldice and Xaan tag along behind.

As the two half-orcs pass by the spot where Rogar axed the daemon, Xaan feels the cracked teeth of the not-quite-dead cacodaemon sink deep into her shoulder. The thing re-appears as it bites and stays visible, oozing tarry blood from its wounds. It detaches from Xaan and flies back, trying to flee toward the intersection.

Xaan fires off a quick shot at it, but the bolt splinters uselessly against the ceiling. Poldice brandishes a club, but doesn't get a chance to pummel the daemon.

25 feet ahead of the half-orcs, Prax notices something further ahead-- movement, with the distinctive shining gray of a ghost. The corridor widens into a chamber up there, though, and the ghost moves over to the right, out of sight from where she is.

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(1d20)[13] (1d4)[3]
These are attack and damage for the daemon. NPC-on-NPC rolls are secret, but you'll see results. I'm making more saving throws and Perception checks on your behalf than you can see, but you are of course welcome to peer at things yourself.

EDIT: Over in the OOC, more rolls!

Xaan takes 4 damage total from the bite!

[BigKahuna]

Rogar, intensely focused on running and still in a mad rage, continued to charge right into the chamber ahead of him.

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Rogar will continue to run until he gets into the chamber, runs out of move speed, or is stopped for some reason

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardan couldn't even hear the clack of Xaan's crossbow striking stone over the clanging of his armor, so he kept running after Rogar.

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Intentionally fails listen check! I'd never be able to catch up to the thing anyway, and I believe it's out of the range of my torchlight. Here's hoping Xaan and Poldice can finish it off!

[4th number]

Poldice drops his club with a clatter and draws his small hunting bow from under his cloak. He swiftly nocks an arrow and fires, but his arrow misses the retreating daemon, sailing off into the darkness.

He turns to Xaan, worried. "Are you okay? How bad is the bite?" He'd been bitten by a coyote once, and that hadn't been too bad, but Prax had fixed him up with a bit of magic. This might turn out to be worse.

***

Up ahead, the other three charge forward for another fifty feet (leaving them 85 feet from their allies). The corridor widens into an oval atrium that's about 50 feet long and 30 feet wide at its widest. The floor is a mosaic of blue and white tile in complex diamond patterns, and the walls are lined with a dozen standing sarcophagi, each one intricately carved in white marble.

It's hard to take in the decor, though, with the ghostly combat being fought over to the right. The pale silver figure of Emily von Proun radiates an eerie light. Her delicate features are twisted into an expression of bestial rage, and she grasps another cacodaemon in both hands.

The daemon seems different than the one Rogar fought, though. Ardan and Prax spot it right away-- it's transparent. The thing strains to get loose from the ghost, shrieking in pain as Emily's fingertips rupture its skin.

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Forgot that Poldice gets to do stuff, too. I'll roll his attacks in the open for now. (1d20+4)[11] (1d6+1)[7]

Map:

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That's right, it's time to suffer through enjoy another of my maps!

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardan eyed the daemon for just a moment. "Is it intangible? Will our weapons he able to hurt it, you think?" he asked Prax...conveniently also potentially cluing Rogar in that something was up with the thing.

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Holding off posting a combat action until it looks like everyone's on the same round, unless directed otherwise by DM. But, since talking is a free action...

[hoverfrog]

As Xaan yells in pain Prax spins round to see the flying head swoop away. She tries to get a shot off with her crossbow before checking on the half orc, "You alright?"

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Light crossbow (1d20+3)[7]
Damage (1d8)[3]
Confirm critical on 19-20 (1d20+3)[12] if applicable
Critical damage (1d8)[8]

Oh well, I wasn't really expecting to hit. I assume we're in a new round as there was a map.

"Bloody things can turn invisible. Make sure they're dead if you hit them and keep an ear out for any others flapping around." she knows that this might be saying out loud what everyone has already figured out but it's best not to take chances.

[BananaPhone]

Xaans guttural grunt is indicative of a vicious wound.

"The bite went deep." she utters, the harshness of her species voice emerging into her speech as pain seeped across her shoulder.

The half-orc waved her fingers and uttered some words to try and ensure that this would not happen again.

"And you," she utters sharply, looking at the Pterasuar perched on her other shoulder, "You're supposed to keep watch!"

"We'd best catch up with the others."

OOC:

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Casting Mage Armor - probably should have done that earlier lol.
I'll get up what spells she's got prepared later on.
Mr Sparkle, her familiar, will also be keeping watch, giving her two Perception rolls at +11.
Will then spend a move action and move up to the others with Pray. That is unless Prax decides to either spend a full action doing something or doesn't follow

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardain advanced, a quick step ahead and right to get the thing in his reach, taking a swing at the grabbed daemon.

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Attack: (1d20+5)[6]

Miss Chance (if needed, lower is bad): (1d100)[22]

Damage: (1d12+4)[13]

But even though he was telling himself every step, she's a ghost, your weapon can't hurt her, he still instinctively flinched back from accidentally striking Emily, utterly ruining his attack.

[BigKahuna]

The enraged Rogar follows Ardan's lead and lets loose a mighty and incoherent roar, "ROAR!" before similarly slashing at the held beast.

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Roll to hit (1d20+5)[12]. Roll for miss chance, I'm going to be a more optimistic and say high is good (1d100)[25]. Roll for Damage (1d12+12)[21]

[4th number]

Emily gasps as the bladed weapons slice past her (and, in the case of Rogar's axe, through her hand and the daemon in it, though neither of them seem harmed at all). She releases the daemon and it floats up and away, vanishing into the ceiling as ten globs of thick translucent blood fall through Ardan and Rogar and disappear through the floor.

The ghost briefly panics, stumbling (somehow) as she glides to the center of the oval room and falls to her knees, madly scanning the walls for any signs of daemonic intrusion. Her eyes fall on Prax, and her relief floods onto her face.

"Eupraxia, my dear! Eupraxia Glykeria, I am so glad that you're here!" Her tone is refined and smooth, though she can't keep an edge of fear from creeping in. "The city is under attack by the fiends of Abaddon! You must warn the Council of Three at once!" Her composure breaks, and she weeps, reaching out a hand, fingertips stained with daemon blood, to Prax.

Seeing her friend sitting on the ground brings happier times to Prax's mind: their hours of conversation as they sat opposite each other in crypts like this as though they were little girls at a birthday party instead of a horned witch and a doomed spirit in the halls of the dead. Only once before had they touched, the single time that Emily had been able to speak of her husband, the reason why she still walked the Material Plane. Through the force of the ghost's will, the two of them had been able to hold hands for a minute or two, each feeling the touch of the other instead of merely occupying the same space.

Xaan arrives at at the entrance to the chamber with Poldice and her familiar just behind. Poldice shoves in front of her, club upraised and ready to defend against whatever threat had inspired Rogar's battlecry.

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Ardan and Rogar get AoOs as the daemon floats up if they want 'em.

The daemon does not even attempt to dodge Rogar's final swipe, and his axe blade passes through its belly harmlessly.

[BigKahuna]

Rogar takes a vicious slice at the creature as it attempts to depart. After his slice he calms down considerably and begins to breathe heavily, the fight having clearly tired him out a bit. Through his deep breaths he proudly exclaims, "Nothing like a fight to work up a good sweat!"

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Roll to hit (1d20+5)[11]. Roll for miss chance (high is good) (1d100)[6]. Roll for damage (if applicable) (1d12+12)[17]

[hoverfrog]

"Emily, are you alright? We know about the creatures, there are hell hounds led by some kind of..tentacle thing. They're holding a threat over us all." Prax reaches out her own hand to touch the fingertips of the ghost. "It's fine now, you hurt the beast and drove it away. You're so brave, a true hero."

She spends a moment introducing her new friends. "The stout warrior with the axe is Rogar. Xaan is the half orc who took an injury from the daemon. Ardan is in the Watch and I believe I've mentioned Poldice," For a moment a touch of colour almost reaches Prax's white cheeks. She goes on to relay the rest of the story about the previous night, giving full descriptions of the creatures they'd seen and answering any questions that Emily has.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardan was feeling quite certain that this daemon was impervious to their attacks. None the less, he lashed out at it as it fled. He wanted these blasted creatures out of his city.

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Attack: (1d20+5)[19]

Miss Chance: (1d100)[54]

Damage: [roll]1d12+4[/roll[

Once the thing was gone, like Emily, he scanned the area intently. In fact, he took several several seconds to scan the hall for any sign of the daemons, opening himself to any sense of their particular foulness.

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Three rounds of Perception checks as a move action and Detect Evil as a standard action, unless interrupted or detecting a foe.

(1d20+1)[13]
(1d20+1)[10]
(1d20+1)[16]

[4th number]

Ardan should have scored a direct hit with his polearm, but the head of the weapon passes right through the daemon as it disappears.

There is calm for a few moments as Prax speaks with her friend. For just an instant their fingertips rest on each other, Eupraxia's digits turning as ghostly as Emily's, but then they slip past, a touch of daemon blood remaining on the witch.

Emily listens as the others are named, but she seems disinterested in them, though Poldice runs his tongue along a tusk when he hears himself mentioned. The ghost seems far more focused on her friend's descriptions of the daemonic invasion.

"So it's true!" she says, her eyes wide. "I read about this in my father's library-- Altemian's History of the Daemonic Invasions of 545 A.R. There were some lovely illustrations, that's how I recognized that little..." She shudders. "There were many fanciful beasts illustrated there, things from far beyond the edge of our world. There were a few things with... appendages such as you describe, but the one that sounds right..." She bites her lip in thought. "It was a magician, a sorcerer. I remember the print, it was shown blasting a line of fire. Red fire, when the rest was black ink. They were all like that, very striking." She smiles pleasantly.

Meanwhile, Ardan finishes his survey of the room. He sees no movement, but can feel a steady stream of evil coming from the direction of the far doorway and up a bit.

Suddenly excited, the ghost tries to snap her fingers, but instead just sticks them together for a moment. "I've got it! Venedaemon! They're supposed to be absolutely awful. They turn invisible, and shoot fire, and summon other daemons, and all sorts of other magic, just like a Guild Wizard but evil. I think they're even supposed to be able to--" she lowers her voice. "fly."

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardan stared ahead where he sensed that foulness. He waited a few moments, for Emily to finish speaking. Her description of the creature they had encountered did not fill him with confidence. "All, I think there's still...something here," he said quietly then. He nodded down the hall the feeling was coming from. "Through there."

[BigKahuna]

Upon hearing about this lurking presence, Rogar went straight to the door (axe still in hand), opened it and then took a look around.

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Perception roll: (1d20+6)[26]

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ardan had...not quite been expecting that, but he only gave an amused grin and followed after the dwarf.

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Perception: (1d20+1)[17]

[hoverfrog]

"Xaan, do you require healing?" Prax looks in the direction that the others have moved in and tries to peer through the gloom. She prepares a healing while staring, in case the half orc requests it, "I'd normally charge for healing."

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Perception check (1d20)[16] +2 if it is incorporeal undead.
Cure light wounds (1d8+1)[2] but only if Xaan agrees to be healed.