The Divine Forge - IC (Ongoing Campaign)

[Sir Grave]

Cynric glared at the zombie, taking a few steps back. "ENOUGH! You cannot overwhelm us, creature!" He outstretched his hand, muttered another incantation, and sent two more rays of fire at his new target...

Spoiler

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AP spent
Ranged touch (1d20+8)[15]
Damage(4d6+3)[14]
Ranged touch (1d20+8)[20]
Damage(4d6+3)[19]

The rays set it alight, burning away it's flesh. Before it falls, it gives a brief, guttural laugh. "...Overwhelm... You do not know what it means for us to overwhelm you..." It dies, so to speak.

The black sky lights up...

[Sir Grave]

KRACKADOOM!!!!

Without warning, a bolt of lightning strikes the bodies of the knight corpses behind the barricades. Those who manage to glance at it as it struck see that it's a bolt of unnatural energy: ebon, and negative. It leaves a dark fog around the lines of corpses... And they slowly rise...

The undead warriors give a loud, horendous battle cry. "SURRENDER TO DEATH, WEAKLINGS!" They continue on the attack...

Spoiler

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KS2(1d20)[14]&(1d20)[4]
(1d6+1)[3]&1d6+1[/roll] (d100)[53](d100)[43]
KZ2 (1d20+6)[19]
(1d8+2)[4](d100)[23]
KS6(1d20)[12]&(1d20)[11]
(1d6+1)[2]&1d6+1[/roll]

They literally fight blindly against their foes, another knight takes a severe wound...It matters little that they survive, as they know they have the advantage...

[Sir Grave]

Sweet! This may come in handy for future uses. Kalim shelves away the wand that shoots fiery lines at people. Hearing someone screaming for the mage's blood for the third time that could blow your ears off, it is not safe to say the thief motivation peaks. Moving to a nearby barricade very quietly, he focuses on the voice and the direction where it came from.

Spoiler: Actions

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Is Kalim beside Oren and the knight when he picked up those items?
Going to double move if he is off-position.
Move action to sheathe wand.
Move action to move back to Original Position/nearest barricade.
If not, readied action to double move closer to the source of the noise and hide behind a shadow if he knows where it is coming from.

Spot - [roll0]
Listen - [roll1]

If he moves...
Hide - [roll2]
Move Silently - [roll3]

Kalim, you are sheathing your wand as the lightning strikes. Turning around, your eyes widen as you see a whole new horde of armored zombies behind you. They haven't noticed you yet, you take the opportunity to sneak towards the barricade further back.

[Vhaidara]

Spiker curses, seeing the new horde of zombie rising. Still, there were bigger problems. She moved forward and launched another barrage of deadly spikes at one of the skeletons.

Spoiler: OoC

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Move to O11, attacking KS3
Attack: (1d20+9)[10]
Damage: (1d6+3)[9]
Attack: (1d20+9)[10]
Damage: (1d6+3)[8]
Attack: (1d20+9)[16]
Damage: (1d6+3)[4]

[Sir Grave]

Spiker curses, seeing the new horde of zombie rising. Still, there were bigger problems. She moved forward and launched another barrage of deadly spikes at one of the skeletons.

Spoiler: OoC

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Move to O11, attacking KS3
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Attack: [roll4]
Damage: [roll5]

You send another hail of spikey death at another skeleton, however, in your rush to kill as many of these unholy spawn as possible, only one manages to hit. It still stands.

[Sir Grave]

The knights move to new strategic positions, frantically. "WE ARE OVERRUN! PROTECT THE KEEP!"

Spoiler: Knights

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(1d20+4)[17] (1d8+3)[9]
(1d20+4)[18] (1d8+3)[9]
(1d20+4)[10] (1d8+3)[8]
(1d20+4)[24] (1d8+3)[5]

They fight with all of their strength, even getting in a few good hits... but they know their doom is certain...

[Sir Grave]

Spoiler: New Combatant

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(1d20)[7]
AP (3d6)[11]

Suddenly, the doors to the keep open... everyone feels positive energy emanating from the entrance. A man, armored in what could only be described as the shiniest scale mail you have ever seen, slowly walks out into the open, sword drawn. He looks as though he's seen better days... his eyes are darkened, his flesh is marred, slightly, and looks exhausted. He looks up at the scene, displeased.

Spoiler: Top of the Round

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Malvi's turn

[Guard]

Malvin takes stock of the battlefield; they were in trouble. Still, the new arrival, the Vassal, he presumed, looked like he might handily take care of it.

Nevertheless, he made his way across the battlefield, intercepting the vassal, all the while calling up a spell to warp space. With a crackling of sound and a flash of light, Oren swapped places with Halberd.

Spoiler

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Moving to N11 and casting Benign Transportation to swap Oren and Halberd's places.

[Sir Grave]

Malvin takes stock of the battlefield; they were in trouble. Still, the new arrival, the Vassal, he presumed, looked like he might handily take care of it.

Nevertheless, he made his way across the battlefield, intercepting the vassal, all the while calling up a spell to warp space. With a crackling of sound and a flash of light, Oren swapped places with Halberd.

Spoiler

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Moving to N11 and casting Benign Transportation to swap Oren and Halberd's places.

You move and mutter an incantation, which seemingly does nothing at first, until you notice that Oren is now clear and away from the danger and Halberd now faces the new mob of zombies. They both look confused.

[Sir Grave]

Halberd, head shaking from the sudden relocation, is blurry eyed. His vision clears, revealing a massive gathering of undead, who take notice to him. They begin to advance towards him.
The warforged pointed Endbringer at the horde. "Come on! COME ON! I'll plant all of you into the ground!" He rushes forward, attacking the first zombie in their ranks...

Spoiler: ATTACK

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Attacking Z4
(1d20+11)[26]
(3d8+10)[25]

He stabs one of the zombies in the chest, lifts it into the air, and hurls it to the side, sending the slain zombie to the side. It falls at the Vassal's feet.

[Sir Grave]

Halberd, head shaking from the sudden relocation, is blurry eyed. His vision clears, revealing a massive gathering of undead, who take notice to him. They begin to advance towards him.
The warforged pointed Endbringer at the horde. "Come on! COME ON! I'll plant all of you into the ground!" He rushes forward, attacking the first zombie in their ranks...

Spoiler: ATTACK

Show

Attacking Z4
(1d20-1)[9]
(1d20-1)[16]

He stabs one of the zombies in the chest, lifts it into the air, and hurls it to the side, sending the slain zombie to the side. It falls at the Vassal's feet.

Vassal Grave sees the zombie at his feet, staring at it's face. He knew this man. He watched him fall in battle. And to see him defiled by necromancy, he gritted his teeth.

"No."

His sword ignited in blue flame. He wrapped it's blade with his platinum holy symbol. "No more bloodshed."

He held his sword high. "THIS ENDS NOW!"

From his sword, a wave of positive energy exploded forth across the battlefield, passing all of the combatants. Those living (or more importantly, not dead) feel nothing, and are unaffected. The undead however, scream.

Spoiler: Vassal's Spell

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Targeting[roll]15d4HD[/roll] worth of undead in a 100ft radius burst. Will save DC28
z1(1d20-1)[9]
z2(1d20-1)[16]
z3(1d20-1)[16]
z4(1d20-1)[15]
z5(1d20-1)[13]
z6(1d20-1)[12]
z7(1d20-1)[6]
z8(1d20-1)[9]
z9(1d20-1)[8]
z10(1d20-1)[2]
z11(1d20-1)[16]
z12(1d20-1)[7]
z13(1d20-1)[17]
z14(1d20-1)[1]
z17(1d20-1)[6]
z16(1d20-1)[4]
z17(1d20-1)[2]
z18(1d20-1)[10]
z19(1d20-1)[12]
z20(1d20-1)[16]
z21(1d20-1)[18]
z22(1d20-1)[11]
KS1(1d20+3)[17]
KS2(1d20+3)[12]
KS6(1d20+3)[12]
KZ1(1d20+3)[7]
KZ2(1d20+3)[15]

The undead... all of them... become engulfed in a blue flame that saps out whatever holds them together. The negative energy returns to the ebon skies, which seem to retreat to the northeast, leaving only distant thunder and pouring rain. The bodies of the attacking undead all fall to the earth, dead again.

The Vassal lowers his blade. He coughs, bleeding from the mouth, and he slumps over, kneeling.

Sorra watches, terrified, and rushes to him. "GRAVE!"

[Vhaidara]

Spiker looks at the Vassal.
So, this is our employer. Took long enough.

[Sir Grave]

Lady Sorra has shrunken down back to normal size by the time she gets to him. "Grave. Are you alright?"

The Vassal recovers, solemnly looking at the dead knight before him. He closes the knight's eyes. "...I'm failing Sorra," he said, quietly. "...I'm failing you all..."

"No. You saved us. Had it not been for you, we would be overrun."

Grave struggled to stand. Sorra helped him. "I did not save you. This is merely a reprieve. They will return. We must act, and quickly."

He looked to the dragon above the tower, and, finally, the dragon looked down. They converse with one another in draconic.

Spoiler: Language:Draconic

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Grave:"Namhias. I need one of your wards.Provide us sanctuary."
Dragon:"Our fates are bound, Saintly One. Should I be taken by the darkness that has befallen us, you will die as well.
Grave: Please, Namhias. These people have suffered enough. Let us share some of their burden.
Dragon: Our burden is already strong enough, Wyrmslayer. But very well. Sanctuary is given.
Grave: Thank you.

The dragon, roaring and flapping it's wings, gestures with it's front claws, and a powerful energy crackles around the keep. It carves draconic runes upon the ground, surrounding the area. Grave holds his head, in pain. He recovers, once again, and looks at the rest of you.

"You..." he says. "You helped defend ourselves, this day. You have my thanks. Had you not intervened, many more would have surely been killed."
Thunder rumbles once more in the distance. "We should all get inside. We have much to discuss."

[czieg]

OOC: posting shall be sporadic, but I'm here!

When Oren pops in where Halberd once was, part of the wrapping around Oren's face drops to reveal a massive burn scar on the right side of his face, he quickly pulls it back up the wrappings. Still slightly confused by his sudden trade of places with Halberd, Oren tinkers with his rifle for a moment before smacking roughly. Seemingly satisfied he fixed the jam, Oren turned to the Vassal.
Thank you for your assistance Lord Vassal. I doubt we could have held the line much longer. If I may ask, what did you just say to the dragon and what is it doing now?

Spoiler: Action

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use Quick Clear deed, cost one grit point, 2 left.

[Prehysterical]

Sensing that the battle is over, Halberd wills himself to reduce in size and dismiss the magical strength granted to him. While he is not familiar with how the magic exactly works, he has seen them applied enough in the war to know that they can be removed at will.

Surveying all the dead bodies around, and the creeping storm fleeing the area, Halberd turns around slowly. His metal fist angrily grips Endbringer, actually shaking. Cold blue eyes regard the dragon atop the keep. Not a statue, after all.

"You could have helped," he said quietly.

Taking a step forward, he points a finger at the dragon. "I saw your kind fight in the war. You could have annihilated this entire force by yourself, with tooth and claw and magic breath. And yet there you sat, doing nothing." The last word is spat out, as though it were a curse. Halberd's arms open wide, encompassing the carnage around them.

"Good men, good soldiers, have died today and you could have prevented their deaths. Why?!" The warforged words echo metallically off the keep's walls.

Spoiler: OOC

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I will update Halberd's stats tomorrow. A thunder storm is getting a little too close for comfort for my laptop.

[Guard]

Looking over the bodies of the recently and not so recently slaughtered knights, Malvin couldn't help but agree with Halberd. Still, it would not do to anger their hosts. There had to be other facets to the situation, the Vassal and Namhias' conversation hinted as much.
He made his way over to the righteous warforged. "I'm sure there's a bigger picture here. If Namhias' hands weren't tied, he would of course have done everything in his power to protect these men. Let us follow sir Grave, hear what he has to say."

Malvin wondered what this task they were about to be given would contain. If it was something within their power to achieve, sir Cynric alone should have been able to handle it, if he took care and prepared himself properly, not to speak of what he and lady Sorra could achieve in concert, although perhaps she was sorely needed here, defending the keep.
This organization obviously commands impressive resources within their ranks. Why do they need us? Perhaps their manpower is indeed tied up here. Perhaps the task their wish fulfilled is something they can't afford to be seen as doing.

[Sir Grave]

OOC: posting shall be sporadic, but I'm here!

When Oren pops in where Halberd once was, part of the wrapping around Oren's face drops to reveal a massive burn scar on the right side of his face, he quickly pulls it back up the wrappings. Still slightly confused by his sudden trade of places with Halberd, Oren tinkers with his rifle for a moment before smacking roughly. Seemingly satisfied he fixed the jam, Oren turned to the Vassal.
Thank you for your assistance Lord Vassal. I doubt we could have held the line much longer. If I may ask, what did you just say to the dragon and what is it doing now?

Spoiler: Action

Show

use Quick Clear deed, cost one grit point, 2 left.

The Vassal took his time before speaking, trying to be clear through his tiredness. "Namhias... is a Sacred Warder of Bahamut. I requested that he provide us sanctuary for a night. We all need to recuperate... to rest... from this ordeal..."

Sensing that the battle is over, Halberd wills himself to reduce in size and dismiss the magical strength granted to him. While he is not familiar with how the magic exactly works, he has seen them applied enough in the war to know that they can be removed at will.

Surveying all the dead bodies around, and the creeping storm fleeing the area, Halberd turns around slowly. His metal fist angrily grips Endbringer, actually shaking. Cold blue eyes regard the dragon atop the keep. Not a statue, after all.

"You could have helped," he said quietly.

Taking a step forward, he points a finger at the dragon. "I saw your kind fight in the war. You could have annihilated this entire force by yourself, with tooth and claw and magic breath. And yet there you sat, doing nothing." The last word is spat out, as though it were a curse. Halberd's arms open wide, encompassing the carnage around them.

"Good men, good soldiers, have died today and you could have prevented their deaths. Why?!" The warforged words echo metallically off the keep's walls.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I will update Halberd's stats tomorrow. A thunder storm is getting a little too close for comfort for my laptop.

Looking over the bodies of the recently and not so recently slaughtered knights, Malvin couldn't help but agree with Halberd. Still, it would not do to anger their hosts. There had to be other facets to the situation, the Vassal and Namhias' conversation hinted as much.
He made his way over to the righteous warforged. "I'm sure there's a bigger picture here. If Namhias' hands weren't tied, he would of course have done everything in his power to protect these men. Let us follow sir Grave, hear what he has to say."

Malvin wondered what this task they were about to be given would contain. If it was something within their power to achieve, sir Cynric alone should have been able to handle it, if he took care and prepared himself properly, not to speak of what he and lady Sorra could achieve in concert, although perhaps she was sorely needed here, defending the keep.
This organization obviously commands impressive resources within their ranks. Why do they need us? Perhaps their manpower is indeed tied up here. Perhaps the task their wish fulfilled is something they can't afford to be seen as doing.

The dragon, surprisingly, acknowledges Halberd's presence, though he doesn't speak, at first. He gives a low, agonized growl as blood drips from his maw... his blood. He studies the warforged for a good long while, as Malvin speaks, finally muttering two draconic words, "Ithquent sventlin..."

He wipes the blood with his front claw. "If you are truly the wielder of that blade, Kovgam Arytiss, you will know the answer, in time." He continues to stare to the north, where the storm fled.

Spoiler: Language: Draconic

Show

Ithquent sventlin: God Slayer
Kovgam Arytiss: Metal Warrior

Sir Cynric returned from healing one of the wounded knights, putting his hand on Halberd's shoulder. "A compassionate warrior must always heed the words," he looked at Malvin, "of a wise companion. Come. We must not keep the Vassal waiting."

Spoiler

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If anyone has any objections to going into the keep, let me know. Otherwise, I'll just assume you all follow the Vassal inside.

You enter the keep, which beholds the Vassal's hall. You really can't tell how large it is, however, as it is currently crowded with peoples of all shapes and sizes: merchants, travelers, beggars, families... all here under the protection of the Knighthood. Briar awaits you, entering from the tower. As Grave and Lady Sorra pass them, they thank him for his protection and hospitality, a few even ask for his blessing. He turns to the crowd. "Everyone... this day does not belong to me... but to my wife Sorra... my knights... and to these newcomers, who were brave and kind enough to lend a hand. They truly deserve your gratitude."
The vassal turns to you. " There is a room upstairs where we may speak privately. Please, follow me."
You all comply, and he leads you to the second level: a large, circular room with a long table: a meeting place for the knights. He gestures for yo all to take a seat.

"...I look at those people every day, " he begins, taking his seat, "and each of those days, I wish to meet this new evil head on... and, at the very worst, die defending those I hold dear.

"But my new enemy... whatever it may be... is cunning. For it has set it's soul-snare not only on me, but onto Namhiras, whom I am bound to. And we grow weaker, especially when we use our power and might, with each passing day. Should I die, I will bring Namhias with me.

"So... the question is... which of the innocents shall I sacrifice? Namhias, who despite his physical prowess is not a warrior, but a contemplative and philosopher, and a sentient, compassionate being? Or the people down there, who sought the saftey of my keep, and cannot defend themselves against the invaders? Who am I to make such a decision as to value who's life is greater than the other?

"Namhias," he continued, looking at Halberd, "faces a similar dilemma, in reverse. He is, by all means, an older and wiser being than myself. Yet he has no answer, either! It is not for him to judge which he should save. And so he does nothing! "

He pauses, sighing. "And while we do nothing... We are dying. Slowly. Me. Namhias. My knights. The people we protect. And...Sorra..."

The Vassal's face is solemn. "Now... You know of our plight. Why we can do nothing."

He leans forward. "...Why you are here..."

He straightens himself out. "Before I sent for you... I sent a band of my best knights to the Mournlands... to seek out the source of this evil... and destroy it. Only one returned... shambling towards my keep, with countless other undead. My diviners, to their displeasure, spoke with his corpse, which set forth a destination.

"It spoke of a shrine, long ravaged by time, at the center of the storm. One of my knights, Sir Lukon, managed to survive... But he has yet to return for weeks. I fear the worst.

Finally, he concluded, "I sent Sir Cynric to gather you all for one purpose: enter the shrine. Find whatever may be causing this storm. And destroy it."

[Vhaidara]

Spiker scoffs.
You men fell to the shamblers and dark ones? Let me guess, they went in in gleaming steel without any idea of what the word "stealth" means.

[czieg]

Oren thinks upon Grave's dilemma as he checks the windows for any squirrels that might be listening in.

In the desert, we know that the few must be sacrificed so the tribe may live. Despite the darkness of the thought, you must consider who has the least potential to contribute. The elderly who can no longer hunt or do anything to help the community. It is dark but it is the truth.

[Sir Grave]

Oren thinks upon Grave's dilemma as he checks the windows for any squirrels that might be listening in.

In the desert, we know that the few must be sacrificed so the tribe may live. Despite the darkness of the thought, you must consider who has the least potential to contribute. The elderly who can no longer hunt or do anything to help the community. It is dark but it is the truth.

The Vassal listens to Oren's point with intent. "Perhaps... but should you succeed, the sacrificing of anymore innocent lives may not be necessary."

Spiker scoffs.
You men fell to the shamblers and dark ones? Let me guess, they went in in gleaming steel without any idea of what the word "stealth" means.

"Already forgotten about Mr. Gallows, have you?" Sir Cynric said. He turned to Grave. "My Lord, we didn't come here simply seeking sanctuary. There are new tidings that we bring. I'm afraid that they are not good."

Grave nodded.

"The 'dark ones' that my companion refers to are drow, which she saw skulking about in the Mournlands. I cannot say what their purpose may be, only that it is an odd occurance that may be connected to this storm.

"However, there is darker news as well. I fear we may have an infernal adversary on our hands. It has forseen our coming, killing one of the companions I had gathered in a monsterous manner. It left a message for us, written in his blood, telling us that it goes 'to the Shrine of the Forgotten One.' Perhaps it may be the same shrine that you are sending us to, and the same evil that slew your knights in the Mournlands."

The Vassal's face darkened at the news, silent for a moment. "...then it is far worse than I feared..."

[Vhaidara]

Gallows did not fall to the dark ones or the shamblers.
And then the Vassal decides to be ominous. That is annoying, and Spiker snaps at him.
Perhaps instead of morosely pondering our doomed fate, you do something useful and tell us what you know.

[Sir Grave]

Gallows did not fall to the dark ones or the shamblers.
And then the Vassal decides to be ominous. That is annoying, and Spiker snaps at him.
Perhaps instead of morosely pondering our doomed fate, you do something useful and tell us what you know.

"That is what he knows," Lady Sorra said, scowling at the soulforged. "And if you dare disrespect my husband in his Keep again, I'll have your head myself!"

"Sorra," Grave said, raising his hand. He then turned to Spiker. "In light of this news, friend, it means that forces even you could not possibly comprehend are at work, in the Mournlands. Do you really think that some devil would simply decide to take a stroll across Khorvaire, just for the fun of killing some adventurer? No. It has a plan. It calculates our every action, even now. It studies us. And then it acts against us. For a purpose we cannot even fathom, save that it has something to do with that shrine. And that... THAT is your enemy. Even simple agents of the Infernal Lords are masterminds in their own right. If what you say is true, and it has already been near New Cyre, and even killed one of your own, then it already has a hundred ways to kill each and every one of you! And this is only one step of it's plan!!

"However..." he continued, "do not think that I have given up, otherwise, I would not have called you all here. More is at stake than I thought. With the undead, that at least was predictable. But you add the devil, well... then you should expect the unexpected."

[Vhaidara]

Spiker looks at Sorra.
Your husband gives the best advice I have ever heard.
She looks back at the Vassal
Cynric told us that we would receive a boon if we aided you. Seeing your condition, I wonder if it would even be within your power to do so. Do I look like such a fool as to risk my life when the reward is so uncertain?

[Sir Grave]

Spiker looks at Sorra.
Your husband gives the best advice I have ever heard.
She looks back at the Vassal
Cynric told us that we would receive a boon if we aided you. Seeing your condition, I wonder if it would even be within your power to do so. Do I look like such a fool as to risk my life when the reward is so uncertain?

The Vassal, even through his exhaustion, chuckles to himself. "Of course... running this keep, I nearly forgot how this works..."

He speaks to all of you, in general. "Wealth is not our issue, as much as a lack of trade. No one likes to travel upon a road infested with walking dead, and most certainly not a murderous devil. I can reward you with significant pay." He coughed, out of breath for a moment.I hope you don't mind... I only pay in Platinum.

[Somensjev]

Briar finally speaks up. "I'm terribly sorry sir, but i will be unable to accept that reward. I will, however, help you regardless. I hope that is okay?"

[Vhaidara]

I have no interest in money. I need soldiers.

[Sir Grave]

I have no interest in money. I need soldiers.

The Vassal coughed. "Soldiers? Do you think us mercenaries for hire? Why in Bahamuts name do you need soldiers?"

[Vhaidara]

I was told that I would receive a boon, not coin. A boon is a more general reward, correct? And I am fighting your foes. Is it so wrong that I ask the same of you?
She looks him straight in the eyes.
As to why I need soldiers, it is to take the city of Sharn, and kill Merrix D'Cannith.

[Sir Grave]

Briar finally speaks up. "I'm terribly sorry sir, but i will be unable to accept that reward. I will, however, help you regardless. I hope that is okay?"

Grave looks at you, smiling slightly. "Heh... you took a Vow of Poverty, didn't you? I knew someone like you... Very good."

[Somensjev]

Grave looks at you, smiling slightly. "Heh... you took a Vow of Poverty, didn't you? I knew someone like you... Very good."

"yes sir. i do not have very fond memories of what material goods can do to a person"