Night Monsters

Log Info

• Title: Night Monsters
• Emitter: Riptide
• Characters: Alaryn, Eztli, Harkashan, Murder, Rune, Skielstregar
• Place: Past the Redridge Mountains, Alexandros
• Time: May 4th, 2023

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=    The Players    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Alaryn             5'4"     112 Lb     Human             Female    
    Dark haired slender girl in breastplate and skirt.                         
Eztli              4'6"     140 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    
    A two-toned, short sith-makar.                                             
Harkashan          6'5"     276 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      
    Sith with red and black scales bearing gleaming lavastone spread across    
Murder             3'6"     40 Lb      Goblin            Female    
    A goblin woman in studded leather.
Rune               5'0"     100 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    
    Lithe woman in dark leathers w/black hair & blue eyes                      
Skielstregar       7'2"     330 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      
    A brilliantly silver scale with fangs and empty eyes.    
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Riptide      4m                Lb                                    
    Blurb. Blurble. Blurghughghuggh.   
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Over in the Redridge Mountains, there exists a small county, a patch of land that is claimed by one Count Moriarty Henessit. The Count Henessit has a small fortune that is the result of a small ruby mine that is, as of the last few years, defunct--but the Count's estate is fine and sprawling as yourself and your allies are escorted by an older fellow in a fine suit and a monocle, a butler by the name of Bas, to the front door.

You're led through hallways of paintings of various Counts of years past, including what is, apparently, a painting of the current Count Henessit and his wife, a beautiful woman of elven heritage who is a few months pregnant in the portrait--only for the next portrait to then be of Count Henessit and a young girl in his arms who looks like an even mix of her father and mother, wearing his curly mop of brown hair and her mother's bright blue eyes. The Count looks tired in his eyes, but a smile is on his face as he holds the hand of his young daughter.

And this is the face that he wears as he greats all of you in his parlor, an immaculately decorated thing. "I thank all of you for coming," he says. "I hope that this is a frivolous thing that will end with your watchful eye over my daughter tonight. She's claimed monsters are coming into her room at night and has refused to sleep a wink for two days. I am at my wit's end." Judging by the dark bags under his eyes, that appears to be quite true.

GAME: Murder rolls sense motive: (16)+1: 17

While yeah, sure... Alaryn drove her clunker of a cart here, making more noise than some especially talkative herds of beasts, it was easier than walking. Plus all of her gear is parked out front. The cart is cooling off, steam issuing from the various crystalline intermix chambers as she popped down and approached the front door.

Lifting her goggles from her face, she maintains a bright and cheery grin as she walks closer. "Sir, every little girl has frivolous thoughts that to them are very serious and very real. Trust me.. I used to be one."

"But you've nothing to worry about. I can figure out many different ways to set up security, and I am -sure- that my fellow adventurers can figure out even more." Again, her grin is bright and then she looks about, "Wait. You mine rubies?! Ruby crystals resonate with some of the best mana for fire magics! I should buy a few off of you while I am here." Yep, ADHD strikes again.

Skieltregar had at least the wherewithal to ask, before this long trip, about the inside of manors. They could be managed, apparently, but they were not food. A building, he learned, with a lot of softskin things meant for softskin use.

He also felt very out of place, being prepared to fight monsters meant a lot of weapons. So he was loaded to bear. In his shiny armor. With his shiny halberd. And cork. Lots of cork. On his taloned feet to not tear the fine floor up as he walked. There's a look to Alaryn, "Erm... we, sssa, can watch your daughter through the night, taking ssshiftsss. But... thiss one mussst say, thisss feels like..."

A glance to the party. "... too many Keeper-castesss in the great fire ssspoil the ssstew."

Harkashan keeps his head up, and his posture straight, as he steps through the Count's great halls. He doesn't stop, but he does take notable care to memorize the portrait for a moment. The elfin wife, the young woman, and her father.

Perhaps notable for Alaryn, each step, those anklets at his feet jingle slightly with each step. Shifting ever so slightly along his steps, that beautiful lava-effect glowing and going perfectly with those scales of his.

His pace has improved significantly ever since donning them. Walking with far more ease.

Yet, it is only her father they meet witin the parlor.

"Might I ask, with the greatest respect, why is your wife not overseeing her needs?" Asking purely because his wife is an elf, and the old man, clearly troubled with sleep, is human. There is a parent here who is FAR better for the job of helping what he presume would be a half-sil.

He then looks to Skielstregar for a moment, tilting his head.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy+1: (7)+11+1: 19

The elaborately decorated halls of the manor are enough to remind Rune of the chambers belonging to certain Sildanyari nobility. Not in the style, but in the lavish qualities that come with those who have more money than sense. It also tends to leave her feeling a bit unsuited to be in such company. The Half-sil woman has her hood up, but is making her best attempts at looking confident. It's not /quite/ there.

"Nightmares can be terrifying, especially if you feel helpless against them." When Rune speaks, her voice is soft. "At least your daughter will know that she has people here to protect her."

"Well, I'm sure you could take on just about anything with Malefic at your side, but... sometimes you do have to let other people assist on a job." Her lip quirks to the silver-scale, offering him a playful wink.

The GOblin is a little wow'd by the estate, and the tour of the house, but the feeling wears off by the time they're eyeballing the Count.

Murder offers a deep bow to the count. "Well met, Count Henessit. Erm. Is there anything else unusual happening around your estate? There may be clues elsewhere that may help us solve this problem for you."

Murder eyes Harkashan a moment, her voice lower as she speaks. "I suspect perhaps his wife has passed on. See the portrait of he and his wife.. and then he and his daughter."

Eztli wanders through the manor with the rest of the group, relatively relaxed, but curious. "Well, I guess what they had from the mines is still saved somehow, this place is still in excellent shape." The sorceress muses to no one in particular before they meet with their employers. The small makari offers a low curtsy. "Of course, we understand. Has bringing her somewhere else to rest not helped? We will do what we can of course, but anything you can tell us about what's happening, maybe that'll paint a better picture of things."

There is the small moment of an uncomfortable silence as the Count looks at Harkashan. With the goblin's speculation, the man nods. "My wife grew sicker and sicker as her pregnancy progressed," he says softly. "I sent for an Althean healer from Alexandros, who helped as best as she could--but she asked my wife whether she had a preference in saving herself or saving the baby in the event that things went wrong during labor or in the recovery after labor... and my wife answered our child. She slipped away into the Halls in the early hours of the morning after giving birth to our Emmaline."

His eyes, his voice, all show and display a sense of resignation and mourning. He looks to Alaryn next. "I no longer have rubies for trade. The mines went dry, and prospecting surveys determined that there were likely no more to find, even if we plumbed deeper into the earth. The bulk of my wealth now is tied up in investments. We are not living as lavishly as my father or as his father before him did, but we are comfortable--and that is all a man can ask for in life."

The question regarding if Emmaline has been moved to another room earns a shake of the head from the Count. "She refuses to sleep no matter who holds her nor where she is. My servants have been unable to unearth any sign of anything hiding in her room. She claims that she hears a woman's voice at night and then... creatures."

He sighs. "If you would like to speak to my daughter, Bas can take you up to her room. She is there at the moment with her maid."

GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (5)+12: 17
<OOC> Harkashan says, "I'll use that free reroll on that one."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (14)+12: 26

Eyes turning down, Alaryn';s enthusiasm wilts. But then again, oh yeah... the mission. She shakes her head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. "I am sorry for your losses and your current troubles. Yes, I would very much like to meet your daughter." That said, she falls silent and allows the others to take the lead. She is not in charge. She should not -be- in charge.

She returns to her cart and begins prepping her gear. She tucks things into pouches, puts on her cap, drops the goggles down about her neck, and then rummages through her materials for sale to find a plushie owlbear she had not been able to sell. Time to give it away.

"I did not wish to assume. A departure of a loved one can have more reasons than one's passing." Especially someone who is more ageless than a human. But more importantly... he wants to make sure there isn't a reason for his wife to perhaps be a cause of this. But he's not going to speak such thoughts out loud. Not in front of this man.

Instead, the man speaks of a woman who grows sicker and sicker during pregnancy, he tilts his head down a bit. An Althean healer from Alexandros ends up saving the child.

He touches one of the lavastones on his armor. "My condolences for your loss. Apologies for making you speak of such events. I understand the extra urgency to protect your daughter even more-so." He remarks, before erecting his posture once more.

"I will do what I can to help Emmaline." A daughter who fails to sleep. Who hears a woman's voice. Creatures... it feels like the daughter is seeing things or hearing things others cannot.

He motions, suggesting he will be a bit longer with this man - while the others might check on the daugher. "How is she holding up, health wise? Being unable to sleep like this. I see the toll it is taking on you."

Skiel shifts on his feet, the cork on his talons making muted thudding noises against the floor. He looks to Harkashan, cocking his head to the side at the look before shaking his head at Rune. "No no, thisss one just meansss- well. Many bodiesss to guard a hatchling isss all they mean," he murmurs to them.

Another idle glance to the Deathsinger as he hears about their elven wife growing sicker, talons drumming against the haft of Malefic. "Very well, we can ssspeak with your hatchling."

"I am sorry to hear that, sir. I sincerely hope that we will be able to find the root of this problem, and stop it from happening again." The small makari nods slowly. "Of course, it would only make sense to meet with her so she knows who we are before we have to keep watch. It sounds like a good idea to meet with her, so we might know how best to prepare."

"No, I get it Skiel, it seems like a lot of people just to keep watch on a bedroom. But, better to have to many people than not enough, you know?"

There is a slight wince from Rune as Harkashan's question seems to prompt the resurgence of a painful time in this man's life. Her blue eyes shoot a look over to the lava-scaled Makari. The loss of a mother, that is something that Rune knows achingly well and forcing anyone to re-live that seems a bit cruel in her eyes. However, the remains silent on that matter.

As some of the others move to go speak with the child, Rune steps out, following Alaryn briefly if only to get out of eyesight of the father before preparing her weaponry. While this may just be a quiet night watching over a child, she still has weapons strapped to her back and her sides, though her cloak covers much of them, making sure she does not appear quite as alarming.

Then, she'll jog a bit to catch up with the others heading up to speak with the daughter.

"Have people sat in the room with her at night? Has anything shown itself at all? What of others, anyone else unable to sleep, or hearing anything?" Murder taps at her chin, looking around the room. She nods to Skiel then, "Yes, you are quite right that we're probably too many to just sit around the room. Some of us should be inside the room, while others investigate. But we should all look around while it is daytime. There's got to be /something/ that sticks out, some clue."

To the Count, "I'm up for sticking around and finding a solution, to help your daughter find peace and sleep once more."

"She is... well and not well," the Count replies, a darkness in his eyes. "She has always been a dreamer--all children are imaginative creatures; I remember I was young once--but... I fear for her. She keeps talking about things that do not make sense."

With no other questions, the butler quietly leads the group up to the second floor, opening a door. The girl--Emmaline--sits in the center of a ring of life-sized plush toys, all woodland creatures of various sorts. A raven, a deer, a badger, a fox, an owl, a chipmunk, a squirrel, and a lynx all sit in fabric-form around her... all with miniature teacups and plates, including herself and a well-loved teddy bear in her arms.

"This concludes our meeting of the Council of the First," Emmaline says brightly, before she regards the adventuring group with a wide smile, the bright blue eyes regarding all. "Are you the adventurers that Father has sent?"

She is remarkably well-spoken for a girl of only... Maybe seven years old?

Huh, lots of plush stuffed animals. Alaryn glances down at the Owlbear one she has in hand. "Do you have room for another on your council?" she asks with a smile. She's infused some powdered crystal in the eyes, so that this one's eyes work like the glow-in-the-dark phosphorescence, absorbing light and shedding it slowly.

She takes a step forward and holds out the plushie as a gift. It's not a trap. Not a nannycam. It's just a glow-eyed toy.

"I understand." Harkashan seeks to impress upon Skiel as he murmurs to them, before sharing a glance with Rune for a moment. He knows a tale like this must be rough for her as well.

The father continues to speak of the daughter, and Harkashan nods his head. Showing earnest interest, letting him open up with the Sith-makar. "Hatchlings are wonderful. And my kin know very well what it means to be a dreamer."

"What kind of things does she speak on, Count Henessit? It may give us some insight into what is happening." The inferno-like lizard inquires. "Is she speaking of things beyond her age? Or dreaming of other places she has never visited?" Giving him wild options, to let him know that even wild thoughts are valuable to an Adventurer.

Skielstregar bows his head to the Count, quirking a brow at the mention of strange things. Sleep deprivation, maybe? "Ssaa, good point, Shaman Eztli," he hums to the smallkari. Regardless, ambles upstairs. To which he is met with... a tea party?

His perplexion of the sight before him makes his thick skull thud against the top of the door frame with a solid >thonk<. ".. ack..." Speaking of monsters, and dreams thereof, Skiel ducks into the room, staying a bit further away so he doesn't spook the poor girl. "Erm, hello," he says quietly, mostly all rumbles, giving a small wave.

Stepping in to the girl's room, Rune can't help but show a bit of wonder at the tea-party --- err meeting? Whatever a child would need a meeting with her woodland friends about, it certainly shows a lot of imagination. "Hello Emmaline." The half-sil's voice is soft as she gives a small smile. "We are them, indeed."

She looks over to Alaryn, smiling at the plush. "I have one just like it, that a dear friend gave me to help me face my own nightmares." Those blue eyes flick to Skielstregar, then back to the child. It is offered up to show that even those who seem powerful, sometimes still struggle with such things.

"Can you tell us anything about what you've been seeing? What they look like, or where they come from?" There is a gentleness in Rune's voice as she crouches down a bit to get closer to the girl's level.

Murder follows along when the Butler collects them. She peers about the room, and then circles the stuffed animals. "Oho, the Council of the First?", the Goblin wonders. She wiggles out of her backpack, and drops it to the floor, pulling open the top and starts to rummage through it.

"We are indeed the adventurers sent to help you. There are questions to ask of you. But... I was wondering if your Council of the First would like a new, temporary member, sent to assist you? Her name is Alba, and she is a great and powerful witch." From the backpack, Murder pulls a small plushie of Alba, the great and powerful witch... complete with her limited edition witch... er, Santa hat. "She would help your Council if you will it."

Eztli isn't entirely sure what they were expecting when they met with the nobleman's daughter, but a tea party seemed rather normal, all things considered. The small makari slipped into the room with the others, though she decides against any sort of smile.

"Oh, you don't need to adjourn your council on our behalf Emmaline." Eztli offers gently. "In fact, it would be best you and them are all on the same page. We are the adventurer's who came here to be of assistance, so, what can you and your council tell us?"

Emmaline regards the owlbear plush in her hands with an excited look in her eyes. "Oh! Sir Bearly! We have a new applicant to the Council!" she exclaims, and she gingerly takes the owlbear plush from Alaryn. She busies herself with the task of finding a 'seat' for it on the Council. Eventually, it's put between the raven and the lynx--presumably to help keep the peace between the two species.

The girl, however, takes a look at the plush of Alba, the Great and Powerful, and she looks... hesitant. "There's a rule among the Council," she says very, very seriously. "No mortals. Not even representations of mortals. I am the only exception."

She stands up and finally curtsies, still holding onto the teddy bear. Emmaline is wearing a pale blue nightgown appropriate for her station. "You may call me Princess Emmaline, First of Her Name, Lady of the Council of the First. I asked Father to send for aid, as there is a terror that besieges myself and my vassals, and my beloved Sir Bearly lacks the courage of heart to drive them away. He is my devoted Knight, but he has never proven himself in combat."

A maid by the door offers all adventurers a small, bashful smile. "Lady Emmaline lives in her own world of fantasy," the maid says. "She refuses to be addressed as anything other than Princess Emmaline, and all of her friends have names, stories, and..." She sighs. "I can barely keep all of them straight."

Inclining her head, Alaryn smiles a bit, "Your new member there has eyes that will shine in the dark. That will help him -see- in the dark and watch over you." she admits.

That said, she steps back and looks back and forth between the others. "I am no tactician. Anyone who wants to set up a guard rotation, feel free to work me in however. I have firearms and a death ray, so... use me how you see fit."

Harkashan remains standing at the edge of the door for a bit, with the maid. Looking in with warmth. Smiling as Alaryn produces the plushy, and other such things come out!

He tilts his head a bit, as they talk further. In his eyes, it all looks like play. But - the child seems to be able to tell that Alba is a mortal creature. But on the other hand, Bearly - a simple owlbear - is introduced just as easily. So he doesn't pay it too much mind.

"A world of fantasy hmm? Is the council not ready to defend their Princess?" He asks of the maid with warmth, as he leans to the entrance of the door. He doesn't want to crowd the room too much so quickly.

As the Count had said, an imaginitive child.

Still, he's letting others address the child for now. With the maid here, he remarks; "Try. Is there anything about the stories that relates back to these creatures?"

Skielstregar catches Rune's glance after looking at the owlbear. There's a quiet yet bassy happy rumble in his chest. He's quiet for the most part besides that, letting the others ask the questions he would poise. Or at least, attempt to. He wasn't a Speaker.

Oh! The curtsy! Skiel knows this one! He does so, one corked foot behind the other, lift of a plated skirt- wait, has he been practicing? That wasn't half bad. "Peassse on your nessst Prinssesss Emmaline and Counsssil."

"Lady Emmaline." Rune corrects with a bow of her head. "My appologies, your highness." A world of fantasy is something that Rune can relate to. How often had she gotten lost in her mother's stories in those days long past? "We shall do our best to protect you and your council. Anything you can tell us might be of help."

She looks over just in time to see Skielstregar curtsy. It takes all of Rune's willpower not to laugh, but the corner of her mouth does tick up.

Pushing herself back up onto her feet, Rune takes the time to look around the room, taking in their surroundings. This is both to look for things that might be mistaken in the night for monsters, or places for the real thing to lie in wait.

The GOblin nods, and offers a bow. "I would not attempt to force the Council to break their rule. However, given the circumstances, Alba's help is still yours to call upon, should you need it." Alba is carefully stowed away in the backpack.

Murder eyes the maid then, and nods to her.

Murder offers the child a deep bow. "Princess Emmaline, First of Her Name, Lady of the Council of the First. Shall we assist sir Bearly in combat, strengthen his resolve, and follow him through to victory?"

"All stories have truth in them, even if they do not tell the full truth," Emmaline says. There is a strange weight to her words. "Maid Elly and Father simply refuse to believe me when I tell them the truth that I have learned. Father is not my Father, and Mother was not my mother. The real Emmaline is with the fae, and I am the girl they left behind in her place."

The maid--Elly--sighs sharply. "I saw you being born, Princess Emmaline. That is not true. You were never swapped nor stolen. Your Father would not allow such a thing."

"I know the truth!" Emmaline insists, sharply, now using a voice more age-appropriate. It's a whine. "I was told so in a dream-not-a-dream. The woman's voice tells me so. It's my real mother's voice. Until the creatures come..."

And she now regards the group of adventurers in full. "There are phantom entities, like people, who have beset upon me night after night. At first it was my mother's voice--telling me of my true past, telling me of my true parentage. And we would speak to each other until I fell asleep. But now these phantoms come and try to assault me. I am only ever saved when Bas, Elly, or Father come into my room. The phantoms do not like them."

Well, we will be with you while we try to figure this out. Sadly, if they only show up when you are alone, it may be necessary to encourage them to show up if only so that we can learn more about them. But we will not abandon you. You have my word your grace." offers Alaryn.

She turns her eyes to the others and raises her brows as if asking, 'right?'... but that done, she begins reviewing her preparations for various contraptions and the like. Quartz crystals to power them, various effects just in case.

Eztli takes a step back as she listens, andd the small makari sighs. "You should not believe these things without knowing the full story, Princess Emmaline. "After all, anyone could make such claims, to lead your thoughts astray." Eztli emphasizes. "If they would not speak openly with your family, that is already enough to cast doubt onto intent, right? It doesn't really make sense for that to be the case."

Harkashan's eyes turn a bit more sorrowful as the girl speaks of truths. But it's strange. Why would the Phantoms not like Bas, Elly or Father?

"Do they perhaps bring illumination into the chambers when they come?" Harkashan offers to himself more than anyone elese in the room. Touching a hand to the tip of his snoot.

A thought, before he looks to Emmaline, kneeling a bit. "I can try to draw a protective circle for your Council. But..." Pause. "... you said, your real mother is somewhere beyond this room. Are you unhappy with your father?" The real Emmaline is with the Fea. A Trade?

His mind skips to the Ruby Trade for a moment. To the death of the mother. The hauntings of this child. A slow but consistent downturn of everything since that passing. Since that birth.

Skielstregar blinks at this. He's bright, but he's not the brightest. Though even for him, his experience with fey things before makes his scaled brows furrow. And he sighs out a long plume of cold air, doing his best to not growl. "As long as they fey do not make this one go to the burning tree again," he hisses to himself in his native tongue. <Draconic>

He flinches at the insisting, but he grows more serious about phantoms. He glances to the group. Nods to Alaryn slowly. But rolls his shoulders as the others provide their agreement to aid and offer suggestions. Skiel adds his own, "If they are... phantomsss," he says, "Thisss one hasss meansss of... dealing with them." He looks to Harkashan. Focuses on specifically him. "Do not be alarmed when that time comesss."

'All stories have truth.' Those words cause Rune to look back at the girl, pausing in her appraisal of the room to focus on the child, instead. This is not the first time that the Fae creatures have come into play recently, though how much of this is mearly imagination and how much is some darker entity calling to a child.

Pressing her lips together, Rune doesn't try to push back against the girl's beliefs. Instead, she simply nods her head, "Seems we may have two sets of entities at play. Though I'm not sure if either has her highness' best interest at heart."

Her hand rests on a sword attached to her belt, peace-strapped in the presence of a child, but the weight of it feels comforting against her side.

Murder turns to the Maid, and gestures to the door with her chin. "If you please, wait outside. Listen at the door if you must, but, I think in order to get to the bottom of this, we must listen to Her highness."

To Emmerline, "I am listening, and I believe you. I will wait for these phantoms to come."

"My father is distant," Emmaline says. "I love him, but he does not love me. I know that he grieves for my mother. I know that deep down, he knows that I am not his daughter. One day, when I'm grown, I will join my real parents and have the true Emmaline come home. Then the order of things will be restored."

Elly looks hesitant to leave the room... But eventually she bows before the adventurers. "I trust your judgment," she says. "Please, treat... Treat her well." And so she departs.

Emmaline turns her attention to Harkashan. "They do not bring light with them. They seem to thrive in the darkness. I ask that all of you stay in the room as I go to fall asleep tonight. My Council will remain arranged as they are, but Sir Bearly will stay with me. He is my sworn protector."

And with that... She yawns, and walks over to her rather palatial bed. A child her age does not need a bed this large, but it seems like her father wanted her to have the ultimate in comfort.

<OOC> Riptide says, "Okay! This is the part where you pose your defenses, buffs, etc. How're we prepping for the night?"
<OOC> Alaryn says, "well, we should definitely guard in shifts so we are not all up half the night and then dozing off"
GAME: Harkashan casts Consecrate. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16
<OOC> Alaryn says, "I also have a Cap of Light. I can make light at will. I am sure others can too... but do we want to ward her all night, or wait and let things appear?"
<OOC> Harkashan says, "We probably want to let things appear."
<OOC> Harkashan says, "I have Daylight prepared in order to light the room the moment things get freaky."
<OOC> Alaryn says, "s'what I was thinking too. So I think every guard shift should at least have some method of lighting up the room"
GAME: Eztli casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16
<OOC> Harkashan says, "I mean, we're talking about less than 24 hours - and I imagine we knew we were coming to protect someone overnight. So I don't think it's unreasonable to assume Harkashan can just stay up and watch throughout the night."
<OOC> Murder says, "Murder will just sit up and wait."
<OOC> Rune has nothing to prep, other than just having weapons at the ready and lurking in the shadows to keep watch.
<OOC> Alaryn will kick back and halfway doze for the first few hours. So I can be more awake and alert later
<OOC> Skielstregar nods with hark. "Skiel can offer to doze the first bit then tag out with someone the rest of the night with adamantine warhammer at the ready. Spell wise, don't really have anything that last long enough (unless you want me to summon 3 horses for no reason)
<OOC> Harkashan says, "Rolling Diplomacy to inform pose."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL)
<OOC> Harkashan says, "I will spend RPP to reroll that."
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy: (19)+11: 30
<OOC> Murder says, "She's going to put one her Otyugh onesi pajammas and use her hat of disguise to make it look a bit more real. And sit at the side of the bed. And wait."

As the girl begins the process of preparing for bed, Alaryn nods, "We will be on guard for your safety your grace." she remarks. But then she looks to the others, "Staying up and alert -all- night could be difficult. We should have a few on guard and a few resting to make sure that those on guard are fresh and rested. I will rest for the first watch and be ready for the second." she offers before she moves to sit down and put up her feet. As she does so, just in case.. she slides her four foot long Thunderbelcher out of the -pouch- she stores it in, and lays the weapon across her lap. She double checks her bandolier's loads and nods.

When Emmaline speaks of her father being distant, Harkashan approaches her and kneels down near her, looking her in the eyes with utter softness. Beautiful red light flowing over his scales, playing with the reflections on his crimson.

"I... don't think that's true," He begins, touching his chest. "Emmaline. I spoke to your father, and each time he spoke your name, he spoke it with sweetness. I would see the warmth in his eyes. It's the creatures that are what keep him down." He answers her, speaking with soft tones that impress earnesty.

"I know it is hard to see beyond the tired eyes, and the exhaustion he feels because of these creatures. I am sure your father is just worried. Sorrowful he doesn't know how to protect you." He rumbles.

"He loves you. He would not have invited us otherwise. Certainly not this many of us."

He then begins to move around the room. "I'm going to put a protective spell on this room. I don't know if it will help against these foes. But it is worth trying." No doubt Skielstregar might feel some... particular discomfort at the lines of silver being drawn. Soon after, a vial of holywater follows, and a sudden beautiful lava-red flame bursts from the silver, before silencing once more. Leaving behind just a quiet beautiful moon-like shimmer of pale silver. Barely visible to the naked eye.

"I will take seat near the window, and watch along with my friends here." Looking to the others.

And then, he quiets a bit.

As a bit of time passes, Harkashan finally responds to Skielstregar. "I will seek not to be alarmed. But I do not know how the Death Singing Dragon's gifts will interact with yours. So warn me any time you feel something I do threatening you, Kin. I do not seek to harm you, in the same way you do not seek to frighten me."

There is something deeply sad about a child who feels that distant from her father. Enough so that it lends an ache to Rune's chest that she rubs at absently. Even Harkashan's words seem to echo that feeling in her. Stupid emotions. Even so, she does not press the matter, knowing that they will have to deal with whatever nightmares plague the girl first, before anything else can be remedied.

"I don't have any sort of magic, just my blades." Rune explains to those who may be more unfamiliar with her. "I can take a watch, though." The half-sil moves to one corner of the room to settle herself, weapons out and ready to grab if needed. Ultimately, she isn't much focused on 'preparations' and more on 'action'.

"If they come, we will be ready." The small makari huffs. "And if not, then you should be able to get a good night's sleep at least, and I count that as a win."

"Alaryn does have a point, we should probably have at least two shifts of people." Eztli agrees. "Just, well, be careful. If the shadows aren't keen to run away this time, who knows what they might do."

Skielstregar bows his head towards the Princess. "Sssleep well," he murmurs, finding a spot that could sit his large silver rear. He watches the others work, him offering to sleep first and take the rest of the night later. But his attention falls on Harkashan. Bobbing his head along with the Deathsinger's sentiments. But he quirks his head to the side as Harkashan puts his protective ward down. And it flares bright.

The half-dead makari can be found wincing in the pale silvery hue, a pant leaving him, like a weight pressing down. After a moment, he intones to Harkashan. "The giftsss will be accepted, but they will be... uncomfortable," he relays. "Do not hesitate to use them."

The silverscale gets his preparations for the night underway. It's a simple thing really, he sets Malefic up against the wall, pulls out a dull grey warhammer from its loop and sets it down on the floor and- he lays down and curls up. Tail looping around until he's hugging it like a stuffed toy and his head uses it like a pillow. His rest isn't a comfortable one, due to the warding.

Murder steps out the door, and some time later, returns, dressed as a small otyugh. She shoves her backpack and other gear under the bed, and settles down on her behind in front of her gear, stretching her legs out in front of her. The Goblin spends a bit of time fussing with her PJs, trying to the Venus Flytrap-like bits in a more natural layout.

<OOC> Riptide says, "Okay! Here's the map. Please tell me if you'd rather be elsewhere. Ray gun: Alaryn, sword: Rune, scary face: Skiel, ankh: Harkashan, goblin: Murder, dragon skull: Eztli. https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mqvi1o1snjx"

Three hours pass into the night.

Emmaline tucks herself into her bed and wishes all a good night. But she never slips into the peace of dreaming. She never slips into sleep at all. Those bright blue eyes are turned onto the window, like she's hoping, waiting.

And while Harkashan stands by the window, and he can't see anything--he is the closest to a feminine voice that comes through the window.

"Emmaline? Do you have friends tonight?"

"Mother!" Emmaline beams happily--but as she goes to rise from the bed, the voice rapidly changes direction as the window flies open. The sound of the voice now comes from right beside the young girl.

"I'm so sorry, my lovely Emma--I'm so sorry you've been so scared. I'm trying to keep them away, but they won't stop coming after me. I'm--"

Four ghostly shapes, roughly in the forms of humanoids, rise up from the center of the room. Emmaline shrieks. "Help! HELP! Sir Bearly, to arms, to arms!"

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (2)+5: 7
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (3)+5: 8

Two of the humanoid ghosts act quickly. One runs forward and swipes at the sorceress, its attack landing in a very real and visceral way. The same goes for Skielstregar, a striking and hard palm across the snout. That's sure to awaken the fellow from his sleep.

<OOC> Alaryn will snap fingers, reload +1 thunderbelcher as a swift... then aim and fire at the one on Ez
GAME: Alaryn rolls weapon15: (20)+7: 27 (THREAT)
GAME: Alaryn rolls weapon15: (20)+7: 27 (THREAT)
GAME: Alaryn rolls damage15+damage15+damage15+damage15: aliased to 1d12+0+1d12+0+1d12+0+1d12+0: (7)+0+(6)+0+(10)+0+(8)+0: 31

TO ARMS! Alaryn wakes with a start and is on her feet before she knows what's up. Her hand squeezed the trigger by accident, proving her safety precaution's necessity. She looks down and snaps her fingers, loading her large thunderbelcher before she lifts it, aims.. and takes what would be a snap shot at the being attacking the sorceress.

The weapon fires, black smoke billowing out, and noise echoing all about the room before the bullet strikes the creature in what would be the shoulder right near the neck.... if it were human, the head might have come off. As it is, some of the damage repairs itself, but most remains. "Sir Bearly needs a weapon like mine." she remarks with a smile as she looks to the bed before she begins striding forward.

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (2)+10: 12

In light of Alaryn's massive attack, another ghost goes after the gun-toting artificer, but its strike goes well and wide of Alaryn.

GAME: Harkashan casts Daylight. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17

The window flies open, and Harkashan is quick to his feet, trying to get a better view at what is going on. The ghostly shapes that 'rise' from the center of the room are noted as not coming from the windows. Summoned by a being perhaps?

There's a momentary thought. But it's pushed away in favor of more important things, as he hustles towards the center of the room and does what he'd said he'd do.

A touch to that gem in his horns, words rippling out, before it looks like the /sun/ is starting to form amidst his horns. A searing sound like flame bursting to life, before a Daylight spell erupts into the chamber and lights the entire place up.

"She has friends tonight." Harkashan then speaks to the 'voice' near the young girl.

"Also, by the dragons Alaryn, what is that contraption? And does it also somehow make bacon?"

<OOC> Eztli says, "I _think_ if I step back to the west 5 feet, I can lightning bolt two ghosts without hitting anyone"
<OOC> Eztli says, "and I'd like to sense motive that lady voice"
GAME: Eztli casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18
GAME: Eztli rolls sense motive: (12)+1: 13
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (10)+6: 16
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (2)+6: 8
GAME: Eztli rolls 7d6: (24): 24

Eztli was expecting visitors, but what was not expected was for a incorporeal creature to immediately appear and smack her across the face. The small makari wakes up with a small growl as she faces the creature. As much as she wanted to fight it, cooler heads prevailed, and she stepped back, instead conjuring a small crackle of electricity in her hand, that streaks outward in an instant, hopefully dissipating what parts of the ghosts it touched. "I'm not sure who you are, but if you have anything to do with this, you're going to need to explain yourself." They growl, shaking off their hand.

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (7)+10: 17

There's a groaning from the entity nearest Harkashan. Now that the daylight is active, these things are... visible, like shadows and yet not shadows, rippling in place. It slips forward and moans angrily as it swipes at Harkashan, but both attacks glance off the Mourner's armor.

GAME: Rune rolls perception: (6)+15: 21
GAME: Murder rolls perception: (18)+16: 34
GAME: Rune rolls weapon4+2+2: (12)+9+2+2: 25
GAME: Rune rolls damage4+3d6: aliased to 1d6+1+3d6: (4)+1+(10): 15

The sound of voices is enough to rouse Rune to her feet, just as one shifts from the window to nearly beside her. The rogue's head shifts to the side, seeing only the girl and her teddy bear and nothing else. If that hadn't alarmed her, the sound of gunfire followed by the room lighting up would certainly have done so.

Squinting against the light, Rune blinks twice. She just barely catches the sight of someone on the bed. For her, it's a fleeting catch of movement in her peripheral vision before she notices one of the creatures going after Harkashan.

She can get there...

Darting with quick feet, Rune charges towards the phantom creature harassing the cleric and slashes out with a blade that has distinctive markings that show Alaryn's influence. Looks like her weapon from the enchanter is getting some use.

<OOC> Murder says, "Will be using Power Attack and destined strike."
GAME: Murder rolls weapon8+5-5: (2)+14+5+-5: 16
<OOC> Murder says, "I will reroll."
GAME: Murder rolls weapon8+5-5: (2)+14+5+-5: 16

The Goblin bounces up at the sound of Emmaline speaking and screaming. "Aha, Princess Emmaline does have friends this eve. Come ghosts..." Murder pauses a moment, glancing to the side, at a spot near the young girl. She bows to the outline. "Emmaline's mother, I trust?", she wonders out loud. "The Queen is with us! Take heart and pick up your courage. To arms! Come ghosts, taste my steel!"

The Goblin runs into battle, moving to assist Alaryn against the ghostly apparition. Whoooosh! Close, but no hit.

<OOC> Skielstregar says, "will do the following, and it may change depending on information. 1) Recall knowledge if possible (free) 2) Get up, provoking AoO. (Move). 3) Call Malefic to hand. (Swift) 4) Cast See Invisibility (Standard) and see anything new pops up. And 5) finally, get very upset, rage. (Free)"
<OOC> Riptide says, "Knowledge/The Planes, por favor."
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "alas, we do not have that"
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "getting up! provoking!"
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (15)+10: 25
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (8)+5: 13
GAME: Skielstregar casts See Invisibility. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15
<OOC> Riptide says, "Skielstregar, bright as day--you see a woman on the bed with Emmaline who looks just like the elf woman in the portrait of Emmaline's mother and father. She's reaching over for Sir Bearly."
GAME: Skielstregar RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 20 temporary HP
 

The yell to arms doesn't awaken Skiel. Instead, he just rolls over, the red scale on his necklace being held in hand. But what does wake him up, is a gunshot, and a bop. A bop on the snout. Blinding bright light. Literal lightning zipping right over him. "Ack! UN'ETH THISSS ONE DIDN'-" He rouses. There's a ghost in front of him. "ByHissssLight-!"

The silverscale scrambles to his feet, taking a smack atop the skull as he does so. He growls, sticking a hand out to the side. From nowhere, a black puddle of miasma flies over to him and solidifies in his hand into the gleaming silver halberd. Using the polearm to keep the ghost's distance, Skiel's free hand leaks a black ink. The space around him filling with his dreadful feeling of death. "Let thisss one ssee...!" he snarls, smacking it over his eyes, leaving large handprints that make the dead gaze shimmer bright and milky. The makari glances around, then blinks. "Sssomeone isss on the bed, looksss like... hatching'sss mother?"

He gets clocked in the back of the skull again. The air near Skiel gets... cold. The dreadful feeling escalates. The ground near him gaining a fain gleam of frost. Rivulets of miasma leak from betwixt scales. His eyes glow crimson, and his veins pulse black against hide. A second set of fangs sprout, and talons grow too long. He turns sharply, snarling, maw dripping mana-laced black spittle and miasma. "Thisss one isssn't FINISHED TALKING, CRAVEN!" he snaps!

There is a Forgotten in the room.

<OOC> Riptide says, "Ghost 4 is gonna do a sneaky-no-good thing and establish flank by 5-footing behind Rune. Then attack fully."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10+2: (20)+10+2: 32
<OOC> Riptide says, "Oh no. Rolling to confirm."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10+2: (9)+10+2: 21
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5+1d8+5: (4)+5+(1)+5: 15
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10+2: (11)+10+2: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9
<OOC> Riptide says, "This one's focused on Skielstregar."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (16)+10: 26
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (7)+5: 12
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30
<OOC> Riptide says, "... Okay. Rolling to confirm."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (18)+10: 28
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5+1d8+5: (1)+5+(3)+5: 14

These shadowy entities are on the offensive. One sweeps out from behind Rune and launches two horrible slams into the woman. Right into the spot that had killed her once before. Is this a repeat performance of death in front of the Mourner who failed to save her before?

Even Skielstregar finds a brutal set of strikes from a shadowy entity, slamming into the raging makari with seemingly as much rage as Skielstregar has, a hissing coming from within the rippling darkness.

Emmaline whimpers from the bed. "I don't... I don't want to die," she says, seeing her heroes, her adventurers, take such harsh hits. But unseen to her, the ghostly woman reaches for Sir Bearly--and lifts it up.

"I will save you, Princess Emmaline!" says the female voice. Those who can see the woman on the bed can see the panic in her eyes, too. But a mother can only focus on trying to protect her daughter from evil--in the way that she knows her daughter copes with it best.

<OOC> Alaryn says, "adjust back 5ft, activate armor, draw death ray, fire at #4"
<OOC> Alaryn says, "actually, adjust diagonal down left"
GAME: Alaryn activates her Titan Armor, gaining: +4 Dex
GAME: Alaryn rolls ranged: (20)+8: 28 (THREAT)
GAME: Alaryn rolls ranged: (4)+8: 12
<OOC> Alaryn says, "okay, no crit"
GAME: Alaryn rolls 3d6: (12): 12
GAME: Alaryn spends ONE use of CHARGE POOL.

Pursing her lips, Alaryn blows a kiss to #1. She steps back away from the creature as her armor's crystals all light up in sequence, powering up. From a thin wand-holster on her thigh, she draws a rod that she extends and points the large blue sapphire stone at the end towards the beast down near Rune, "Rune is under assault. She needs help." says Alaryn as she holds her rifle in her left hand, points the rod with her right and unleashes a lightning blast that flashes across the room with booming thunder.

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (3)+10: 13

One shadowy entity slams its fist into Murder, but the second strike does not connect. Maybe it's the inspiring aura of Sir Bearly not too far behind.

<OOC> Harkashan says, "5 foot to 14,7 - cast Archon's Aura and pray some of them fail their saves."
<OOC> Harkashan says, "Actually, make that a regular move. So I don't cast and trigger AoO from casting."
<OOC> Harkashan says, "Move, trigger AoO, then cast."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Harkashan casts Archon's Aura. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (17)+6: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20

Harkashan's armor is heavy but potent. He lifts his arm to take some of the brunt of the assault as the Daylight spell lit from between his horns makes the room seem like they're outdoors in the middle of summer right now.

"I'm okay." He rumbles to Rune, though he did notice the way she looked back at the bed. She slices into the phantoms...

Only for another phantom to get behind her; "Rune! Behind you!" Harkashan tries to warn her, but he knows her back is weak!

Only for Skielstregar to undergo his transformation. He had warned Harkashan. But still, it raises his heckles. If he were softskin, he'd had goosebumps. His immediate protective instincts trigger. FORGOTTEN.

He knows it's Skielstregar. He knows he's an ally.

Yet still, there's that sudden sinking in his heart. The amount of times he's had to deal with Forgotten in the war. The sorrowful taking of his former allies, friends, kin, hatchlings, turned against their own people.

Harkashan's stumbles for a moment. Rune is in danger! Were it not for that fact, Harkashan might have lost focus entirely. The Daylight spell starts burning brighter. "Rune, shift!" Moving with her in mind, a tremor begins to pulse from his position. Strange warping red expanding out from him. Trying to overcome the enemies' defenses, but failing to grasp them.

<OOC> Eztli will scorching ray number 4, then do a loop to 9,9 and bait an AOO from them
GAME: Eztli casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+7+1: (9)+7+1: 17
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+7+1: (20)+7+1: 28
<OOC> Eztli says, "confirming"
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+7+1: (17)+7+1: 25
GAME: Eztli rolls 4d6+4+1: (18)+4+1: 23
GAME: Eztli rolls 8d6+8+2: (27)+8+2: 37
<OOC> Eztli says, "okay so, instead I'll move to 14,9, swift action for claws so I'm flanking with Harkashan"

Eztli is free again to survey the situation, and what is immediately clear is that Rune is not doing too well. The small makari snaps their fingers. "Incinerate!" The sorceress growls, conjuring a pair of flaming lances that streak towards one of the ghosts, vaproizing it where it stood. But that still left several more in the immediate vicinity. The small makari sprinted up to one of them, their clawed hands lengthening into wicked talons that flickered with further flames. Hoping to at least be threatening enough to draw further attention. <draconic>

<OOC> Riptide says, "This ghost is so cornered. Very cornered. It is angry. It lashes out at Rune."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5+1d8+5: (1)+5+(4)+5: 15
<OOC> Riptide says, "Second attack goes at Eztli."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)

When Eztli steps forward to box in this entity--it is a thing born of anger. It lashes out. It strikes at Rune hard, a far-too-real fist coming in for the half-sil's chest like it's aiming to give her a wound on her front to match the scar on her back. The only small mercy is that its attacks are not focused--and so the next is aimed at Eztli, but goes wide of the sorceress.

<OOC> Rune says, "Withdraw, move back to 7,9. Try not to choke on my own blood. Maybe talk to ghost lady on the bed."

The moment that the strikes from that phantom creature impacts against Rune's back, it seems to almost send a spike of electricty through her body. Pain lances through every limb, causing her fingers to go numb despite maintaining the hold on her sword. The sound the rogue gives is a strangled, choked cry.

She coughs once, a bit of blood forming onto her lips as she looks across to Harkashan. That is a hauntingly familiar sight, perhaps, for the Makari. Drawing in a ragged breath, Rune manages to stay on her feet.

"Someone get this asshole off of me!" Her voice is drawn with pain. In that instant, she doesn't have the time nor the focus to understand what is happening with Skielstregar. It is very much a life or death situation she finds herself in, so the strange way he looks is far from the most important thing she has to deal with at that moment.

Oh, and Eztli certainly manages to do so a moment later, but that doesn't prevent a hard slam from the creature in front of Rune to send her to one knee, spluttering. There is panic written on Rune's face as she makes a snap decision. Rolling backwards out of the way of the two creatures, she scrambles, stumbling, back towards the bed. Only once out of immediate threat does she crouch, coughing up a bit more blood onto her tattooed arm, and looks towards the bed.

"What... are these things? Why... are they after you and her?" She demands, blood trickling from the side of her mouth. It's obvious at a glance that Rune is barely staying on her feet. She keeps having to take a knee to stay upright.

The ghost of the elven woman in the bed with Emmaline offers Rune a deeply apologetic frown. She even reaches out for a moment instinctually for the half-sil, before she draws her hand back to her daughter.

"This is all my fault," she whimpers. "This is all my fault. I knew--I knew I should have tried to move on. I just wanted to watch her grow up. I didn't know that it'd draw these _things_ after me."

"Sir Bearly will protect us!" Emmaline insists. "He told me he would!"

The woman makes a sound like a choked-back sob. "Of course he will, my love," she says. "Of--Of course."

<OOC> Murder says, "Murder is going to cast Fire Breath, then use the first charge of it on #1, in such a way as to not burn the stuffies or the back wall. Then rage."
<OOC> Riptide says, "Especially where you're right next to the raven plushie... Good call."
GAME: Murder casts Fire Breath. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15
GAME: Murder rolls 4d6: (12): 12
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (10)+6: 16
GAME: Murder RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 20 temporary HP

The Goblin grunts as she's slammed by a fist, and growls. "Yer gonna have to do better than that, bucko." Her hand gestures, drawing a set of arcane symbols in the air, that seem to leave a brief afterimage in red. She opens her maw, flames licking at her lips, and huffs a gout of fire over the ghostly thing before her.

Glancing over her shoulder at Rune, Murder tilts her chin at her backpack under the bed, at the corner where Rune is standing. "Healing potions there, front pocket!" Looking back to the creature, she snarls. "GRAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"

<OOC> Skielstregar says, "so we're going to apply malefic to face of this thing. repeatedly, with unrelenting force. Swift - arcane strike. Power attack, furious focus."
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon25: (14)+18: 32
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon25-3-5: (20)+18+-3+-5: 30 (THREAT)
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon25-3-5: (16)+18+-3+-5: 26
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage25+3+9: aliased to 1d10+10+3+9: (4)+10+3+9: 26
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage25+damage25+damage25+3+3+3+9+9+9: aliased to 1d10+10+1d10+10+1d10+10+3+3+3+9+9+9: (8)+10+(2)+10+(2)+10+3+3+3+9+9+9: 78
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "ghost touch, good, magic, piercing"

Forgotten-Skielstregar falters slightly as he feels Harkashan's spell washing out over him, but he shakes his head and snarls, even as he's clocked and scratched repeatedly. But it doesn't seem to phase him. Ichor flows from up his arms and coats Malefic, the polearm keeping its glimmer and gleam despite the dour miasma. "Skielstregar, rip and tear," Malefic growls metallically.

"Until it isss DONE!" Skiel snaps gritted teeth. A savage kick lands in the ghostly creature- actually connecting- to knock it back before he brings his hands up. Malefic reforms inverted, spear tip down as he impales the ghost into the floor.

He jumps, twists, and drives the weapon through the floor as the wood and stone cracks, taking the ghost with it as it squealches into the floor below through the cracks. Malefic taking the ghost with it.

The halberd reforms, metal maw munching on the last pieces of it.

<OOC> Alaryn says, "move down next to Rune, drawing potion of CMW on the way. Cast CMW on her and hold out the potion for her to take on her next action."
GAME: Alaryn casts Cure Moderate Wounds. Caster Level: 6 DC: 17
GAME: Alaryn rolls 2d8+6: (10)+6: 16

Seeing the trouble Rune has gotten into, or that has gotten into -her-... Alaryn narrows her eyes. She reaches into a pouch and comes up with a bottle which she hefts as she trots down to intercept Rune. "Hold still." she suggests.

She begins assembling a few devices, pulling out what looks like a sausage casing full of greenish liquid, and then a bit of powdered quartz. She says, "This is going to sting." as she dusts the various wounds with the powder. Then she breaks open the sausage casing and begins smearing the foul smelling gunk on the wounds. Oddly... it's almost like 'rubbing some dirt on it'... but it works. The wounds begin to heal up. Not painlessly, but they are healing quickly.

Then she holds out the potion bottle and says, "Here. Drink this too." with a smile before she looks to the mom spirit, "So, are you a ghost that refused to cross over, and these things are here to try to drag you on to the next level, plane, or whatever? I am not an expert in these things."

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (11)+10: 21
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5+1d8+5: (4)+5+(2)+5: 16
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d8+5: (2)+5: 7

Another hard strike from the shadowy entity that's trained on Murder, followed by a softer but still effective strike. The shadow entity snarls, consumed in anger just as Murder is. Something so malevolent that it will not stop until it ceases to exist.

<OOC> Harkashan says, "Move to 9,9 and trigger AoO, take up a protect-Rune position, cast Prayer for -1 to all the rolls for our enemies, and +1 to all the rolls for my allies."
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (11)+10: 21
GAME: Harkashan casts Prayer. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17

Harkashan's blood is running cold as he sees blood going flying from Rune's back. His eyes turn to pinpricks. His hand on his buckler shaking. Time seems to shift.

                    Harkashan!
  RUNE!                             PAIN
             A flash of light, magic detonating
                                                 PAIN
        RUNE!                     PAIN
                 ANGER!
  
     A cold body, falling into his arms...        
                                              RUNE!
   TALK TO ME, RUNE!

"Rune!" The buckler shifts, slamming at the incoming claws coming his way. Rushing for her, getting close to The Council, and taking up a protective position as Alaryn moves to heal her before he can get to her. "Thanks Alaryn." As he shifts his arm and sends out another pulse of power throughout the area in the hopes of weakening the enemies and empowering his allies!

"Rune are you okay?" He calls back at her. She might notice how his body is shaking. Legs trembling, but remaining up.

<OOC> Eztli says, "move to 8,8 to cut off the ghost in case it gets any ideas, and another scorching ray at it"
GAME: Eztli casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+7+1+1: (1)+7+1+1: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
<OOC> Eztli says, "still got a reroll, might as well use it"
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+7+1+1: (9)+7+1+1: 18
GAME: Eztli rolls 1d20+7+1+1: (16)+7+1+1: 25
GAME: Eztli rolls 4d6+1+1: (11)+1+1: 13
GAME: Eztli rolls 4d6+1+1: (13)+1+1: 15
<OOC> Eztli says, "that's 17 and 19"
<OOC> Riptide says, "Still hit."
<OOC> Eztli says, "I mean for damage"

The bedroom turned battlefield shifted yet again, and so the small makari ducked back after catching her balance as the floor was shaken by Skielstregar, closing the remaining gap between alaryn and Harkashan. "It's okay! Make sure she's fine, but don't let it make you lose focus." Eztli growls. "Just don't let anyone get left open, and it will be fine."

The flames flickering on one claw grew larger, until they formed another large javelin which Eztli hurled at one of the ghosts, the projectile splitting in two mid flight and slamming directly into it, leaving another empty spot of air where it once was.

GAME: Rune used a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.
GAME: Rune rolls 2d8+3: (6)+3: 9

"Shit." Though Rune doens't understand much about spirits that linger on in the world, this isn't the first time she's seen one. Whatever the reason, she just looks at mother and daughter for a long moment. Physical pain tops any sort of emotional damage coming through from that.

That's when Alaryn appears beside her like a strange angel of sausage goo. Sometimes, you just don't question healers. "Yeah... can't exactly move well." Another cough follows and there is another of those jolts of pain from her back as Alaryn gets to work. There is a lot of teeth gritting and hissing that follows as the healing is applied, but by the end of it, her breathing isn't quite so ragged and strained.

"Owe you one." She murmurs, taking the offered potion and chugging it down. The healing energy starts to ease some of the pain, but those nerve twinges across her back continue, making her shoulders tighten.

"Still standing, big-guy." Rune replies, likely realizing just how tense a situation it was for the both of them. "Think I'll live." Her heartbeat is still pounding too loud in her ears and there's more than a tremble in the hand still holding the empty potion bottle.

<OOC> Murder says, "Erm, power attack and destined strike. DS only on the first."
GAME: Murder rolls weapon8+5-1: (7)+16+5+-1: 27
<OOC> Murder says, "I made a mistake, should be 4 more lower, I did -1 instead of -5, my bad."
<OOC> Riptide says, "Still hits."
GAME: Murder rolls weapon8-5-5: (5)+16+-5+-5: 11
GAME: Murder rolls 1d10+5+10: (10)+5+10: 25
<OOC> Murder says, "Oh, 26 dmg total."

"StIlL stAnDiNG!, the Goblin growls, her eyes now glowing red. She raises her sword above her head, and aims two attacks at the solid-but-not-entirely-solid creature. "ONLY YOU LEFT!!", she yells, flames licking at her lips still.

<OOC> Skielstregar says, "move into flank with murder. Vital strike it with power attack and furious focus"
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon25+1+2: (14)+18+1+2: 35
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage25+1+3+9: aliased to 1d10+10+1+3+9: (10)+10+1+3+9: 33
GAME: Skielstregar rolls 1d10: (9): 9
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "42 total"

The Forgotten makari swivels around, ducking low on all fours. Glowing crimson eyes dart about the battlefield. Harkahsan running away! Perfect-

No, focus! Skielstregar snarls and snaps. A familiar voice is growling and yelling. An opening!

The miasma-ridden silverscale gallops on all fours towards the last ghost, takes a massive leap through the air. And Malefic reforms in his hands just as he slams down in a fell cleave right into the floor once more, shaking the ground and clefting it in twain.

The raven plushie falls over from the force.

GAME: Alaryn casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 6 DC: 16
GAME: Alaryn rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9

Once the creature goes down, Alaryn narrows her eyes. She holsters her rod that was being held in her left hand with her bigass long gun. That gun is stuffed into a tiny foot deep pouch. Don't ask.

Then she comes up with another, yet smaller sausage casing, turning to Rune. "Yes. Again." she states before doin' the same thing as before. There is quartz dust being basically glued to Rune's flesh.. but the dust holds the mana that activates the stinky goo that is rubbed into the wounds.

GAME: Harkashan casts Detect Evil. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15

"Thank you, Eztli." He feels like Rune and him are a bit in over their heads on this one. But he's doing his best to contribute. His tension failing to properly fade when Rune tells him she's okay. Ready to defend her, to intercept. But the rest of the team is taking perfectly good care of that!

As the last one is felled, Harkashan motions two fingers forward, almost like he were trying to look through them. Trying to seek evil for a moment through more divine means. Trying to tell if more is coming...

"What were those things?" Harkashan rumbles, looking back towards the bed for a moment, then to Rune as Alaryn is helping heal her further.

After all of that is done, Alaryn gives Rune a smirk and says, "You stink. You oughta take a bath."

A pause, before Harkashan adds; "I'm not sensing any evil around us right now. I think we're clear."

With the last ghostly creature vanishing after a slashing strike by SKielstregar, the red glow disappears from her eyes. Wobbling on shaky legs, Murder backs away from Skiel slowly, moving to her pack. Eyeing Rune a moment, the Goblin calls out, "Anyone need some healing, I have some potions."

It's about this point in time that Rune actually realizes just what kind of monster Skielstregar is. It's hard to tell what she thinks in that moment, with everything else going on, but there is no fear in her eyes. At least not from that. No. Rune has other things to be afraid of.

And then Alaryn comes at her with another sausage. "Again?" Splat, glitter. At the comment about how she stinks, the rogue just narrows her eyes. "I'm going to try really hard to just be thankful right now. Don't ruin that." She'll take a bath, later.

To Murder, she gives a nod, "I should be alright. Thank you."

Then, she steps closer to Harkashan reaching out to touch his arm. It's not a huge display of affection or emotion, but just that simple reminder that they're both still here that the lava-scaled Makari probably needs in that moment.

The Forgotten pants, it slowly rising up as the halberd is loosened from the floor and scraps along with a hollow grind. He looks to the left. To the right. Watches the ghostly mother. Stares. /Stares./

Then a pitiful cough leaves him, a plume of black cloud leaving him as the Forgotten features simply abate. Talons shrink, eyes grow dull, other pair of fangs vanish. And more importantly, the feeling of death abates.

He plops on his rear, panting. "... sssorry about that..." he says to the group. "Everyone... everyone okay?" Finally, just resting his ethreal-sight upon the elven mother.

Malefic turns in his grasp, gently bites the raven plushie, and sits it upright.

There's a tremmor in Harkashan's arm. In intense amount of tension when Rune touches it. His scales hard, and more notably, a patch of intense heat coming off of it. His head tilts quickly to look at what's touching him, nictating membrane closing and opening so that he doesn't have to actually close his eyelids and be 'blind' for even just a moment.

He then reaches his free hand to hers, touching over her fingers for just a moment, nodding his head. "Sorry." He rumbles to her, without explaining what he's apologizing for.

Before turning properly to the mother and approaching her.

"Ma'am... I think it's time for you to pass in peace, and allow your daughter to foster her bond with her father again. Holding onto her like this is going to isolate her from the real world - beyond the world of sleep and dreams." He bids to the ghost.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy+2: (1)+11+2: 14 (EPIC FAIL)

Eztli takes a moment to catch her breath, and the small makari stops to stamp out some of the flames that were catching on the ground beneath her hands. The claws shrink back, and she sighs. "Everyone's okay, I think. Don't apologize about protecting people, Skielstregar."

"That bad, is it?" They chuckle weakly. I've got some magic that can clean it up, but, might be best to keep it on as long as possible. Help with the healing, you know." She adds to Rune, before turning her attention to the child. "My apologies, Princess Emmaline, our apologies. But the threat seems to have passed, for now."

<OOC> Harkashan says, "I will RPP reroll that, because I will not stand for that on principle."
<OOC> Riptide nods!
GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy+2: (11)+11+2: 24

Smirking a bit more, Alaryn shrugs her shoulders, "When we're done here, I'll let you use my gloves to presti yourself clean if you want." she suggests before turning to regard the bed and the mother. She was about to ask a question, but Hark gets to it first, and so she goes quiet.

Rune doesn't answer the 'sorry' when it is spoken. Instead she just shakes her head. As Harkashan turns to the mother and daughter, Rune steps back slightly, taking out the puzzle-necklace from beneath her clothing. Her fingers fidget with the loose pieces, its presence acting as a comfort, it seems.

"I think Eztli is right, I should probably leave it on for a while." There is a nod of acknowledgement to both the smaller Makari and to Alaryn. Rune will live with the healing salve, even if it means looking like a troll snot bogies all over her.

Her eyes do shift over to Skielstregar, but that seems to be a conversation best left to another time. For now, all she does is raise an eyebrow.

Well, that and flinch now and again. The impact to her back seems to have that lingering effect, causing her nerves to pulse and her muscles to tense despite the healing.

"They were malevolent spirits." This is said by Emmaline's mother, who is now fully visible by all. "Drawn to her, because I... I couldn't stay away. Because I am dead."

Emmaline looks up at the ghost of her mother in shock. She doesn't understand. She can't understand. "I--I thought you said--I thought you said you were a fae queen, Mother. And that I was your princess, and that one day, you'd take me home and I'd... I'd be happy again."

The ghost goes to touch Emmaline's hair. It's all she can do. She can't hug her daughter. "I know, sweetheart. Because you're like how I was when I was young--someone who was in love with a story. And--I wanted to stay. I wanted to watch you grow up. And I thought--surely I could be allowed this, to love you even as a spirit. To love you even as a ghost. But if I stay--I will only draw more angry spirits like those to you. And I love you too much as a mother."

She looks up to Harkashan. "I agree in entirety with you, Mourner," she says. "But... allow me one moment more. For one moment more, Grey Harpist--let me be a mother and let me have my daughter."

Emmaline looks up at her mother's ghostly visage. And tears well up in her eyes. She doesn't understand and she can't understand. But... She reaches out to touch her mother. And somehow, impossibly--her fingers find solid flesh.

"I love you, mommy," she whimpers. No longer is she pretending to act older than she is.

"I love you, Emmaline," the ghost responds, her blue eyes--the same color as her daughter's--welling with tears. "I always have. And I always will."

She holds her daughter. She hums a comforting song. And eventually... Emmaline falls asleep. The mother tucks her in, turns to the group. And she looks at Rune.

"Your mother loves you too, even still," she says. "Keep going. Keep fighting."

And on she passes, fading out of reality.

"Of course." Harkashan answers, putting his buckler away, as the woman wishes for a moment more with her daughter. He glances down at Rune for a moment, then to the mother again. Remaining quiet. Putting an arm around Rune, carefully, holding her. Watching, and listening to the words from beyond.

Looking down at 'little Rune'.

"Tell Rune's mother that she's got someone looking out for her now." He bids to her. "Please."

Combatty

map: https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mqvi1o1snjx

OOC

Closing music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c05wtGz0bvc