Wicked Stirrings, part 5
Log Info
- Title: Wicked Stirrings, part 5
- Emitter: Thurid
- Characters: Paenitia, Pasithea, Knightmare, Brand
- Place: H02: The Felwood
- Time: Thursday, January 07, 2021, 2:03 PM
- Summary: Once more into the breached ruins, and the party continues to explore the passage to nowhere. A newcomer, Sunblade Brand, discovers that the blank end of the tunnel is a latched, secret door. Opening it, they are confronted by another wave of time catching up with itself. A gnome wizard rapidly agest into undeath, and asks them what they are doing. The group identifies themselves, asking the corpse if he knows how much time has passed. He dismisses them, sicks a skeleton on them, and battle ensues. The group fights the Gnombie and skeleton, finally defeating him, which causes the tower to collapse even further. They rush to escape, blocks crashing behind them, and make it to freedom. The ruins have been resolved, by... getting them sucked into another plane.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--<* H02: The Felwood *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The hills give way to trees, which grow black instead of green. The Felwood, once a part of the greater world, now stands apart from it. The trunks of its wood stand twisted in the way that trees will twist, yet somehow wrong, somehow off. Here, it's always cold, the weather just "something other" than what it should be.
Overhead, a continual storm brews. A blackened smear cuts the sky directly above the wood, a darkened rift that was never meant to be. Its creation is rumored as an unnatural thing, a crafting of the unnatural creatures that lie within these woods.
Now and then, the city sends out patrols to thin the creatures, and keep them from the main roads. However, travel here is dangerous, risky, and often painful.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Knightmare 6'4" 294 Lb War Golem Female A knightly construct on the hoof bearing heraldry of lost Dragonier. Pasithea 3'2" 38 Lb Halfling Female Tall female lucht, willowy, Hair dark as night Brand 6'0" 180 Lb Human Male Raven-haired Human Male with blue eyes. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Thurid 7'1" 249 Lb Giantborn Female Bright-eyed, muscular, blond Giantborn woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
There is an evil ruin in the Felwood- where time does not behave as it should, and there are a surprising number of outsiders and undead in the vicinity. The adventurers have set up a base camp of sorts at the entrance, and have been gradually exploring the dungeon. So far they have killed a many headed bone monster, an imp and quasit, a pack of gnolls which attacked the base camp, and a nest of spiders they found in there.
After our brave adventurers killed off the spiders in their nest, they seem to have hit a bit of a conundrum. The corridor leading out comes to a dead end- Paenitia suspects a hidden door of some sort, but no mechanism has been found for it, if such a thing exists. Many of the larger webs have been cleared from the collapsed store room, and the stores themselves have been examinined- nothing of particular value, nothing that hasn't already turned to dust with the turn of ages. And so they are pressed with a choice- to continue trying to find a way forwards, or to double back and explore an alternative route.
The little Red Knight taps experimentally along the walls. Tap-tap, listen, take a step, tap-tap. She's still having no luck. "My friends, no one builds a bridge to nowhere. They do not build a passage to nothing. There is a secret to be found. Keep looking, she will reveal herself." Tap-tap.
For her part, the artifice knight runs her fingertips along the walls in stretches while her fellow Knight raps upon them for sound.
Knightmare shifts her weight hoof to hoof, sheathing her ring pommeled blade in favor of the flanged mace frogged to the opposite hip. She idly pokes at any sconces or the like that present themselves. They can be trickys.
While Paenitia looks and taps with the physical, Pasithea looks about with the magical. Her senses peering through the lens of magic spell and... occasionaly slipping off to sleep. But at least she wakes quickly enough.
Brand, a recently-vowed Sunblade, had been sent out to the forward camp to assist the adventurers in their task. Dressed in a mixture of armor and leather and with his knives at his side, Brand arrives at the forward camp and presses onwards, following the carnage until he is united with the party.
He attempts to stay in the shadows though. Aimarra had told him they needed help, so help they will have. Perks of having a shady past is that you have shady skills to go with it. That is, until he meets with the group. "Greetings, friends. I will be assisting you tonight."
GAME: Brand rolls Perception+Rogue: (15)+5+1: 21 GAME: Pasithea rolls perception: (11)+5: 16 (Aiding) GAME: Knightmare rolls perception: (15)+8: 23 (Aiding) GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (17)+4: 21 (Aiding)
Knightmare carries on her search with a measured care and machinelike patience, taking her cues from her fellows, though she bows her head to their new compaion with a, "Well met, friend!"
"Hola!" The Red Knight calls. She is a Lucht in fanciful red armour with a wide brimmed hat and an absurdly large peacock feather. Her face is hidden by a rusted steel mask, with a stylized male visage that has a wide grin and a long, curled moustache. "I am Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna, Knight of the Pillar and Paladin of Tarien. It is good you are with us. I have heard good things of the followers of the sun. Come, there are secrets here, we seek them!"
Brand bows his head softly to all. "Well met. I am Brand Dracul, Sunblade. Speaking of secrets..." He looks upon the barrier to their path and after some poking around, he smiles. "This is meant to be opened from the other side. Intentional or not, we are not meant to enter here. Thankfully, there is a weakness: Tgere's a catch there that can be released, which should allow the wall to recess and allow us entry."
GAME: Brand rolls Disable Device+Rogue: (17)+7+1: 25
Once found and pointed out, the latch is not too difficult for the others to spot, nor is it paticularly difficult for Brand to disengage. However, because the door's mechanism seems to be largely mechanical- at least, the mechanism for lowering it, as soon as the latch is picked- the sudden rumble of stone grinding against stone can be heard and the wall begins to slowly slide into the ground. There is a blast of cold air, rushing past the opening and washing over the adventurers as the door begins to descend- and for a moment, light flickers before snuffing out beyond the threshold.
A creaky voice can be heard, before its owner can be seen. "-Worked!" it cries out, and then coughs and sputters. "What the blazes?" the voice asks, though who is not clear. Finally the door jambs, and then suddenly collapses into its recess with a resounding thud that is felt as much as it is heard and the group find themselves looking into a large hall of sorts.
Standing on a raised dias almost directly ahead of them is a shriveled corpse, no more than three feet tall, with its arms raised high. Wispy scraggles of whitened hair cling to its dessicated chin and scalp. Surrounding it is a pool, filled waist deep with sludgry crimson liquid, in which numerous indistinct shapes can be seen bobbing and floating. With the sound of snapping, creaking bones, the corpses head twists sharply, snapping to stare directly at the party with white, rotten eyes. "Who in the hells are you?" it asks.
"Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna, Knight of the Pillar and Paladin of Tarien," the red Knight answers, leaning to the side to wave past Brand. Her curls bounce, her mask remains fixed in its smile. "We have come through the bedroom, not the front door. What is your name, dead one?"
Pasithea steps far enough to see the room and the occupant. She shudders even as she nods off for a short time. When her eyes open she speaks in her soft voice. "The magics are fading now....rapidly. This... this was the source... of the magics." She tries to look at the pool and has a hard time. "Do you realize how much time has passed?"
Brand nods softly to Paenitia and Pasithea. Though he gets to work on the door. After some fiddling around, he manages to disengage the mechanism to get the door to recede and then...after a gust of cold wind, which seems to bother Brand none. But then his attention is set upon the stranger who seems to come out. "Brand Dracul, Paladin of Daeus." he introduces himself. He looks upon Pasithea then. Then his attention is forward. This could be...interesting.
Could the pool be some sort of elixir?
"Dead one? How rude..." the Gnome? hard to tell when most of their skin is off. On the dias says, but before he can retort, Pasithea's question catches him off guard. He tugs on his beard as he contemplates the question, and it comes right off- well, not all of it, but a big clump from the center. He then peers at his shriveled hand, and the white wispy hair- barely more than dust- in it in confusion. "...Rather longer than expected, I'm beginning to think." he admits. But then his distraction is momentary, "But- wait, no. No- that doesn't answer my bloody question. Why are you in my tower? How did you even get here?" he asks, clearly thoroughly confused by the situation, as he never even asked that question!
"The Sorceress Pasithea can explain the magics we have seen." Paenitia calls out, "The Tower, she is ruined. She is home to monsters. They threaten nearby. We are here to do battle with them. Much time has passed. You have been here a long time, my senior. Tell us the kingdoms you know of."
"Whatever was done...here by you or... others. Time has been.. fluctuating and trying to.. catch up with where it is.. now." She points to the corpse. "That person was.. likely not that old. What is it that you were doing... and why would you tempt fate ...by magicing time? That... is the providence of.. the gods." Pasithea says firmly for her. And then seems to fall asleep.
Brand just falls into a steady silence. "Your tower has been corrupted by dark magic." Brand informs the man. "We have been brought here to investigate." He informs him in a more gentle way of their purpose. Though Brand's hands are on the hilts of his daggers as he looks around, perhaps to ensure they're not being snuck up on.
Knightmare, grimly silent as the search yielded fruit somewhat past it's prime, now takes a step forward, "You are dead, and yet you live." comes a low, hollow echo from behind the embossed skull face, "What sorcery have you wrought in this place?" Her mace isn't creaking, that's the dungeon settling.
"Wait. You meant to tell me we're still on the prime material?" The corpse asks then, clearly dissapointed by this turn of events. "It /didn/ work. Godsdamnit." he hisses, "I'll skin that blasted- oh, I suppose he's dust by now, anyway." the corpse giggles. A dry, raspy sound- which grows more vigorous, shaking dust from his tattered robes at something Brand says. "Corrupted? Oh, no, dear boy. You're quite mistaken. Well, as amusing as this chat has been- it seems I have work to catch up on. You can go now." he says, and then gestures with a hand absently, flipping through his- somehow pristine- spellbook on the dias infront of him.
The red slurry in the pool churns and bubbles and roils, and the nature of the bits floating in the pool of red sludge become apparent, as one raises to the surface fully- a skull. And it continues to rise, to reveal that there is the rest of a skeleton attached to it.
"Oh my friend, we cannot. You have become a pestilence that must be purged from the land. So sorry, yet this must be done. I will fight with honour, though you give no name. I will take tidings of your death to your relatives." The red Knight says, gripping her baradiche and preparing to squeeze around the Sunblade to follow her fellow Knight.
"Offer yourself without resisstance and know the Grace of the Grey Lady with minimal pain." It is the closest thing to a gentle offer the Knightmare, turned by war so much as the acts of Heth to Vardama and thus against the living dead, can give to such an abomination.
It is an offer stillborn within her bellows as the discorporating Gnome invokes another affront to the Death Singing Dragon, the avatar of the construct's faith. With her fellow Knight on board, with surety her other worthy companions are sure to follow, she begins her ominous advance.
Pasithea wakes up and sighs.."I do so hate.. this part." She says as if speaking about a play apon a stage. "There is to be combat.... Take care."
The chattering, gore-soaked skeleton eventually emerges from the red liquid, bony fingers scrabbling at the edge of the pit as it begins to drag itself out. Its other hand emerges from the goop, clutching a rusted, notched Falchion. It pulls itself up and onto the edge of the pool, dripping on the stone floor beneath.
GAME: Brand rolls weapon1: (12)+5: 17 GAME: Brand rolls damage1: aliased to 1d4+0: (3)+0: 3 <OOC> Thurid says, "Ah, if you're fighting two handed, with TWF you still take a -2 penalty on both rolls." GAME: Brand rolls weapon2-2: (15)+5+-2: 18 GAME: Brand rolls damage2: aliased to 1d4+0: (3)+0: 3
Brand draws his daggers and he leaps into the fray to attack the skeleton, digging both of his daggers into it one after the other, though he seems to frown when the skeleton does not appear to be damaged whatsoever. "What foul magic is this?" He questions as he keeps into the fray of this beast.
The Undead mage on his Dias turns back to the group as they speak of evil and purging and taint and all those other sorts of words. He attempts to roll his eyes, but one of them falls out- he catches it, and pops it back in. "Oh, alright then, I suppose." he says, and then picks up his book- which is bound in leather of some sort- and speaks an incantation holding out his hand. Wisps of mist begin to drift from it, before forming a spectral clone of his own extremity. "I suppose I'll have to deal with you before I get to working out this conundrum." he adds.
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon9: (19)+4: 23 (THREAT) GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon9: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Paenitia rolls damage9: aliased to 1d8+1: (1)+1: 2
Paenitia is on the attack! The Red Knight squeezes around Knightmare and Brand, an easy task for the little Lucht. Only her weapon reaches up past their waists. Charging into the room, her warm feet slapping the stones, she whips the weapon around and slashes at the Gnome-Zombie. At the Gnombie. Her strike is sound, on target, yet her hands slip and the blade turns. An injuring strike, but it could have been so much more.
"I engage! Have that!"
GAME: Pasithea rolls spellcraft: (12)+8: 20 GAME: Pasithea casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Pasithea rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Thurid rolls 1d4: (2): 2 GAME: Pasithea rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2
The sleepy sorceress manages a quick few strides and quickly takes in the scene before her and then casts her spell. Two darts of force appear like misty darts of ghostly energy. She points twice in rapid succession and each dart flies as if from a bow.
The first dart strikes the spectral ghostly hand that the gnombie had summoned forth. The second strikes the mage himself. And while the hand vanishes the mage is still very much still there and moving.
GAME: Thurid rolls 0: (16)+0: 16 (AOO) GAME: Knightmare rolls weapon6: (19)+6: 25 GAME: Knightmare rolls 1d8+7: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Knightmare rolls fortitude: (15)+8: 23
Knightmare is somewhat bogged down by the piecemeal, salvaged nature of her armor, clearly, as everyone gets in ahead of her. Undeterred, the Knightmare squeezes past Dreamy Pasithea, Bold Brand, and Smiling Paenitia to end up in the bloody slurry, evading an errant swing from the skeleton before destroying it with an almost negligent backswing of her own. As the calcium gravel clatters to the ground, the Reaper's smile turns toward the Gnombie, "Now.... for youuuuu.....!"
GAME: Brand rolls Acrobatics: (10)+7: 17
Well, the skeleton is taken out before Brand has to use Paladin magics upon it! "Thanks!" He calls out to Knightmare, before he looks at the Gnome. He immediately gets moving, past Stalwart Knightmare and sprints down the path. light of foot, he easily manages to follow the winding path without falling into the mysterious red goop.
GAME: Thurid rolls 4+2: (19)+4+2: 25 GAME: Paenitia rolls fortitude: (12)+6: 18
The Gnome huffs as both his spectral hand and his skeleton are destroyed in moments, "Must I do everything my- AUUGH!" he complains as Paenitia's Bardiche slashes at him from across the pool. "You little hellion!" he complains, and then he... hops straight into the goop. It comes up to his neck, but it puts him closer to Paenitia- he reaches up, murmuring something in an ancient tongue as his hand comes back up- covered in blood, and grasps Paenitia's ankle- though his hand sparks with negative energy, it doesn't seem to affect the red Knight.
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon7: (5)+4: 9
Paenitia spins her baradiche to try and fend off the Gnombie, but he is too close in the blood moat. She drops the weapon with a clatter, drawing her warhammer to swing overhand at him. She misses. It splashes harmlessly in the ichor beside him.
"Are you Kulthian? Know that the gods destroyed it. Erldenar is gone too. The Millenium Kingdom fell ten centuries pass."
GAME: Pasithea casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Pasithea rolls 2d4+2: (4)+2: 6
Pasithea shuffles a step into the room of combat to take in with more horrid detail what's happening. The gore covered mage makes her lip curl in disgust as she nods off a half second and then comes awake casting the same spell. This time both darts tisting about her comrades to strike the foul mage more solidly.
GAME: Knightmare RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 6 temporary HP <OOC> Knightmare says, "and that's -2-6 for dual wielding without twf, yes?" <OOC> Thurid says, "Unarmed is light, so its -4 -8" <OOC> Knightmare says, "and power attack, so another 1" GAME: Knightmare rolls weapon6-5: (11)+8+-5: 14 GAME: Knightmare rolls weapon0-9: (3)+6+-9: 0
The Gnombie has well...
- ...and truly...
Pissed.
Her.
Off.
With the despoiled mage wading into the corpse curry to attack Sister Paenitia, the Knightmare's ire is well and truly piqued. Something, maybe the stew, seems to sap some of the Knight's color, before with a terrible neigh, she lashes out frantically at the Gnome, her warhammer smiting the lip of the stone path on her first swing. Then, incensed, she rears back to draw up a gorey hoof to try and stomp the the creature, but only ends up causing a terrible splash of protoscab.
GAME: Brand rolls weapon1+Charisma: (15)+5+3: 23 GAME: Brand rolls damage1+2: aliased to 1d4+0+2: (4)+0+2: 6
Brand leaps into the fray, his dagger glowing with holy light as he plunges it into the undead horror that the gnome has become. Of course, his strike doesn't manage to kill him, but he does attack him again as soon as the opportunity presents itself, again with that burning sting of his holy weapon. "Your time on this world is over."
<OOC> Thurid says, "Concentration to cast defensively." GAME: Thurid rolls 4+2: (4)+4+2: 10 <OOC> Thurid says, "And he loses the spell, so 5' steps away" <OOC> Thurid says, "So AoOs for all three of you melee folks." GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon7: (2)+4: 6 GAME: Knightmare rolls weapon6-1: (20)+8+-1: 27 (THREAT) GAME: Knightmare rolls weapon6-1: (3)+8+-1: 10 GAME: Knightmare rolls 1d8+7: (1)+7: 8 GAME: Brand rolls weapon1: (10)+5: 15 GAME: Brand rolls damage1+2: aliased to 1d4+0+2: (2)+0+2: 4
Paenitia swings again at the Gnombie sloshes about in the blood pit. Her backswing is as successful as her overhead. She splashes blood around and misses completely.
While her ire may have influenced her initial array of attack, Knightmare's warhammer manages to reward the room with a hollow >Klud!< as the Gnome's withdrawl leaves the weapon a path across his dome.
The Gnombie lets out a yell of pain as the Paladin's holy dagger plunges into him- while Paenitia's attack had earned his ire, the holy blade earns his respect. He hisses out some foul eldritch incantation, turning his attention towards his attacker and holds out his hand which begins to glow blue- but the splashing and stomping from Knightmare distracts him, and the energies disperse from his fingertips. "Curse you!" he he cries- and then receives a hammer blow to the top of his skull for his efforts. It cracks open with a sickening thud, rotten goop oozing out of the wound to mix with the sludge he wades away from the group in.
<OOC> Thurid says, "He'll get an AoO" GAME: Thurid rolls 3: (15)+3: 18 <OOC> Paenitia nods, "hit with hammer. Also I've set up for KM to have flanking GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon7: (6)+4: 10 From afar, Pasithea takes your dice.. burns them.
As the Gnombie moves, so does the Red Knight, two down and one across she leaps as he grabs for her ankle. Her actual, unarmoured and nicely coiffed ankle. Fortunately his snatch misses the trailing tresses of her leg hair. Spinning to face him, she is all smiles underneath her smiling metal mask.
"Oh no my friend! This is not that kind of dance."
Swing! Splat! More muck, not enough brains.
GAME: Pasithea casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Pasithea rolls 2d4+2: (5)+2: 7
Pasithea watches the gore covered scene with a pale face. Her spell is cast once again and the darts whirl about Knightmare and Brand to strike the undead Gnombie with solid sounding thumps. It almost appears to stagger but then again that's what zombies do, isn't it? "Soon.." Pasi whispers.
GAME: Knightmare rolls weapon6-1+2: (12)+8+-1+2: 21 GAME: Knightmare rolls 1d8+7: (3)+7: 10 GAME: Knightmare rolls fortitude+4: (13)+8+4: 25
Enraged that the undead thing dares persist in the wake of her good companions' efforts, dares yet defy the Goddess of Death, Knightmare wades through ancient chum with purpose and another hellish, echoing neigh as she arcs her weapon hand down accross her body, then out in an upward backswing that smites the fun sized blasphemy to his ruin. Another Neigh of triumph... and her hues, the balance of shadow about her armor, returns to normal as she stares down at the remains, an almost gentle, "Is anyone hurt?" in the aftermath.
GAME: Pasithea rolls reflex: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Paenitia rolls reflex: (14)+4: 18 GAME: Knightmare rolls refle: (11)+1: 12 GAME: Thurid rolls 6: (18)+6: 24 (Brand's Reflex)
Once the final blow is struck, the zombie's head is caved in entirely- exploding into shards of bone and oooze that blend with the ichor it retreated to. Ichor which begins to boil and bubble and slither up and out of its pool, sliding across the ground and revealing the grisly sight- dozens of skeletons of all sorts lay at the bottom of the pit. The ichor slithers towards the door at the north side of the room which creaks, and then cracks open with a thunderous sound. Air begins to rush into the room- which contains a swirling vortex, sucking up the corrupted fluid.
The ground trembles underfoot, and Pasithea and Knightmare are knocked off their feet by the rumble- Brand and Paenitia manage to keep their footing, but the walls around the collapsed doorway to the altar with the vortex begin to crumble, chunks of masonry dragged in along with the ichor.
Pasithea falls to the floor and for a time sleeps as the world rumbles about them. A stray bit of rock strikes her cheek and she wakens, for once her eyes wide. "Time catches up! We must leave! What fell before continues now!" She rambles at high speed and tries to get up to her fetlocked feet.
"Ole! We prevail! I am not hurt." Paenitia cheers happily, raising her warhammer high, "We fight well, Dame Betrys, aaahhh!"
Everything starts shaking. The little Lucht manages to stay on her feet, she is closer to the ground after all, but others are not so fortunate. "Here, my hand! Stand. We must get out. The book. Take that if you can find it."
Knightmare finds herself laying amidst bones in some momentary confusion, but she is quick to get her wits about her, and the construct starts to rise. She growls in a low tone, "Know your peace in the grace of the Death Singing Dragon." That said, the construct tucks her warhammer in it's frogs and crawls out of the pit, 'Time to leave, friends!' <unknown>
<OOC> Thurid says, "Rolling a 1d4, 1 is Pasi, 2 is Paenitia, 3 is Knightmare, 4 is Brand" GAME: Thurid rolls 1d4: (4): 4 GAME: Thurid rolls 12: (14)+12: 26 GAME: Thurid rolls 3d6: (18): 18 GAME: Thurid rolls 12: (5)+12: 17
As they are gathering to their feet, another thunderous crack tears through the masonry overhead- and the dark sky outside can be seen. A large chunk of the roof falls in as the broken arch can no longer support it. The stones come apart as they tumble down, and clatter upon Brand and Knightmare from above- Brand suffers the worst of it- a large piece of rubble strikes him hard on the head and the man promptly looses consciousness with a nasty gash across his scalp.
The heavy block smashing her shoulder distorts the plating enough that it renders her arm difficult to properly move, but she does what she can to scoop up her worthy friend up to carry to safety. Tail lashing in agitation as her heavy hooffalls along crumbling halls, hoping to see them all to safety.
The sleepy sorceress isn't looking so sleepy currently. Her eyes are rather wide and she cries out as the ceiling falls apon the pair. She makes to step forward but thinks the better of it. "Are you ok!? We need to hurry! Please!" She waits to make sure they are moving and following before moving down the hallway out herself.
GAME: Thurid rolls 1d20: (6): 6 GAME: Thurid rolls 1d20: (15): 15 <OOC> Thurid says, "Next rock falls at 6, 15"
"I come!" Paenitia grabs her discarded baradiche and runs after the others. Whatever magic the mage was working seems to be going full tilt now. There is no time to explore, and with the collapsing ceiling, no time to be standing still either. She runs as fast as her shapely little legs will carry her, which isn't that fast. "I hurry! A ruin will not end the story of Sister Paenitia!"
Another resounding crack sounds in the distance as more chunks of the ruin begin to collapse in on themselves- as they clear the ritual chamber, the rumbling reaches a crescendo as the roof there caves in entirely, and dust and pebbles chase them down the halls.
GAME: Thurid rolls 1d20: (13): 13 GAME: Thurid rolls 1d20: (4): 4
Knightmare adjusts her grip on Brand hoping the wound is not too bad to last until they've reached safety, but she continues on! "Not our time, yet, friends!" she hollars.
"Run sorceress! Do not wait. We are behind you." Paenitia calls, encouraging as much as promising. She's behind the other Lucht, and falling further. Her armour is not a friend of speed. She holds her baradiche just behind the blade, letting it drag so she can swing both arms. She'll pick it up nearer to the trap, but for now doesn't want it waving around in front of her like a proper grip would cause. She concentrates on staying ahead of Knightmare.
Pasithea hesitates as she begind to outpace the others. She pauses in what seem like safer spots despite Paenitia's call to run on. "I can not leave you all!" She calls back at them, waiting until she catches sight of them and then moves on ahead.
GAME: Thurid rolls 1d20: (1): 1 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Thurid rolls 1d20: (3): 3
The rocks are falling almost if they are chasing the party out. Each section they leave collapses behind them.
A terrible, deep tearing sound drowns ou everything else, and the ground beneath shudders once more. An entire section of the wall collapses inwards- towards the portal as Paenitia passes it, and another massive section of ceiling collapses behind them- pebbles bite at their heels, as Pasithea begins to see the light of day- just one more corner.
Suddenly, enough of the roof has collapsed that the ruin begins to cave in on itself at ever increasing rates. The dust begins to overtake them, and the pebbles chasing them are large chunks of stone- the sound of the masonry crashing in on itself behind them is deafening- just a few more yards...
Pasithea is first out the place. She calls out at a yell. "I'm out! You're almost there!" She skips off to one side and then continues to urge them on. "RUN! RUN!" she actually yells. Pointedly not thinking about a lonely walk back to report things alone should the place colapse before they get out.
Crash!
>>CRASH!<<
>>CrashSHASH!>>
Blocks fall, everyone flies. Paenitia between, her eyes locked on the Pasithea's back, her feet pounding. The wide brim of her hat obstructs her vision above, she only sees the rocks ahead, and as they fall past her. Her breath comes hard, her mask isn't helping. It's smiling, as always. She focuses on moving, bare feet padding hard on the ancient stonework. It's only a little more. She will be free. They will be victorious.
Clank-clank-clank-clank-clank-clankclankclankclank!
Betrys the Knightmare, Knight of the Lost Crown, Knight of Dragonier, has never run from a victory, before. It's a most vexing state of affairs, but she soldiers on, seeing the exit ahead, "Scatter through the entrance!" she advises and bears down to try and wring just a little more, any more, speed out of her battered and emburdened body.
With mere moments to spare the last of them escapes the collapsing ruin- with a great sucking, tearing sound the pile of rubble that was once some dark magicians tower collapses in on itself- even beyond the work of gravity on its ruined structe, stone grinds against stone as each block and cobble of the place is ripped out of this plane through the gaping maw of that uncontrolled portal- until it is left, swiarling and angry, suspended in midair- but for a moment.
The portal detonates, a wave of negative energy washing out over the camp, over the dark trees and blasting away the fog that clings perptually to the ground here. It's the sort of sensation that sends chills down the spine, that ties knots in the stomach- but it passes soon enough. As the dust begins to settle, all that remains of the tower is a wound in the earth- a gulf of barren land.
Pasthea is knocked off her feet a second time as the portal explodes itself out of exhistance. The sorceress stares dazeddly, coughing violently at the dust in the air. The silence that follows after leaves her stunned and free of sleep, the scene enough like a dream to keep her awake.
"Ole! We are free! We are not injured." Paenitia shouts happily, then looks at Brand, "Almost. We are one who is injured, the rest are not. Let me see to him."
The Red Knight examines the stricken Sunguard. "I shall need the medicines. Ramirez! Come! I hope you were not perched on the Tower. It was not a throne for you. Not the place to hide. Where are you?"
There's a distant, low-pitched, 'Ruaaahh!' and the sound of wings. Ramirez, the horse-sized peacock hippogryph glides into view, his tail sweeping the branches and then the road. He lands near his mistress, claws clicking and hooves clopping and she reaches for her supplies.
Knightmare carries Brand out and off to one side of the entrance, to evade any explosions from within, or suctioned debris from without as the case may be. She covers the unconscious man's body with her own until the disturbances subside. She then to a knee, setting a hand lihtly to his chest to see if it still rises against in breath, but draws back with a nod as Paenitia tends to him. She turns to look back toward the riven earth and shakes her head before she calls, "Cysgodawyr!" and the coal destrier gallops with an invigorated whinny to see what all is about. There could be battle!
But, no.... it seems this day is won.
Combatty Stuff
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
>> 23 Skeleton 1 <<
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21 Brand 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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20 Gnombie Mage
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14 Paenitia 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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14 Pasithea 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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3 Knightmare 1
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