Behold the Unloved King (Part 10)

Log Info

• Title: Behold the Unloved King (Part 10)

• GM: Whirlpool

• Characters: Aryia, Ravenstongue, Seldan, Verna

• Place: The Desolation

GAME: Aryia spends TWO points of KI POOL.

Where has Aryia been? That concussive blast followed by flying had brought them back to the Ea-firma. Some squabbling nearby, and some boots pop out of the dirt. Soon after, legs, and- there she is! The mute gasps for air, tumbling out of the dirt and rolling back up to her feet.

She turns and- blinks. Her face splits into a wide grin, and rushes forth, spraying dirt out as she slides to a halt next to Seldan, forming a defensive line.

Both feet plant into the ground, cracks her knuckles, and pops her neck. Lines of white crest her arms and face, and shimmer as she bounces on the balls on her feet.

"Now this is something I can do instead of poetry bullshit!" <Handspeech/Tongues>

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Magic Circle Against Evil/Quicken. Caster Level: 20 DC: 25
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Hold Monster/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 25
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+20+4: (19)+20+4: 43
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+19: (1)+19: 20 (EPIC FAIL)

Cor'lana's quick to come to action, perhaps helped by the quickening magic that she has laid onto the party. The first is that she murmurs a spell that wards herself against evil, a helpful thing that emanates from her much and washes over her adjacent husband.

Then comes the next. Her violet eyes flare with magic as she unleashes that which is her domain:

"Hold!" Noxious enchantment locks and binds the scorpion-seeming demon. "Get it quick if you can! I don't know how long it'll hold!" she calls to her allies.

"I knew we could do it," yells the Joyful King, suddenly re-encouraged. "Behold, your power is manifest!"

And so is the courage brewing in his words. He has his own power, after all. It's ... inspiring. Somehow.

Verna shifts what focus she spared to the opening gate back to the task at hand. A task that requires a significant amount of effort to even attempt. Logic has metaphorical feet firmly planted, arms fully crossed, and perhaps even lip jutting out in certainty that such is impossible for her... and logic is not something Verna can so readily ignore. There is also the matter of her chanting that is all but song and attempted to match with, and draw strength from, Harkashan's not-tone-deaf vocalizations.

All of this before one even considers the effort in collection, arrangement, and confinement of mana for the actual effect.

GAME: Seldan casts Righteous Vigor. Caster Level: 8 DC: 22

If Seldan is quiet, grim, and focused, the sword in his hand is anything but. From the moment it came free from the pack, the voice of the querulous old man rang out from the weapon in his hand, berating him roundly for stuffing them in that thrice-damned pack without a word of explanation and then questioning them like they'd done something wrong and kids these days just have no respect.

And suddenly - crab-scorpion-hot-ugly-something tears open the fabric of reality and its spawn with it.

"-are you even listening to me?" Kanian demands of Seldan, who is, in fact, doing nothing of the kind, allowing the imprecations to go in one ear and out the other while he reaches for the crescent and sphere around his neck, murmuring a prayer that causes moonlight to swirl and settle around him, then lie quiescent.

"Kanian," Tisa cuts in, "I think we have other problems. Look."

"Problems? _Problems_? My dear child, this is what we were born for! FINALLY!" Let me at 'em!"

...they're streaming out of the black door, over and around the halted creature. Tumbling out and landing on their backs. They're bigger than even human-sized. Dozens of them just *pouring out*.

They're taking a moment to right themselves, but they're here, and thre's more threatening to come through.

GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (7)+27+2+1: 37
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (6)+27+2+1: 36
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (3)+27+2+1: 33
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1-5: aliased to weapon0+2+1-5: (2)+27+2+1+-5: 27
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1-10: aliased to weapon0+2+1-10: (18)+27+2+1+-10: 38
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1-15: aliased to weapon0+2+1-15: (6)+27+2+1+-15: 21
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (9)+27+2+1: 39
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (15)+6+2+1: 24
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (11)+6+2+1: 20
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (11)+6+2+1: 20

Aryia gives a thankful nod toward Cor'lana as she locks the massive being down, and with Seldan pressing forth with his bickering weapon, she wasn't going to stay behind!

The pugilist launches forth, dirt flying as the distance is closed with a twirling kick in the air. It slams into the scorpion's carapace, Aryia hissing as it doesn't land as hard as she wished. Fists fly forth, trying to find a purchase, only a few making chinks in them before-

She winds up, cocking a leg back. And leaps into the air, unraveling like a loosened top as a boot whips out and SLAMS into the front of the unholy beast with a reverberating clack. So much energy makes her rebound backwards to the the ground, but the Unholy Scorpion, locked up by Cor'lana's magic, is staggered back from whence it came.

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Wall of Force. Caster Level: 20 DC: 23

Seeing Aryia shoving the giant scorpion-like fiend into the portal--as well as the spawn pouring forth from it--Cor'lana acts. Fingers fly, words are spoken, magic surges from her hands--

"WALL." Magic forms into a wall to block the portal--a trick taught to her husband by Sir Seldan, who she gives a nod to. "I'll give everyone a surge of magic in a second for strength!"

"Behold! My retinue! The mighty warriors, knowing that the fate of worlds rests upon their shoulders! Or at least my fate, given that I'm here," the Joyful King declares.

...the poetry continues. It's a bit lost under the ruckus at this point.

The ground starts to shake.

Something is very angry.

Eventually, one may run out of words. More specifically, in this case, Verna exhausts words from hymns to match the tone and tempo of the song that Harkashan (and herself by extension) use to focus. All regardless of what language she attempts to translate said hymn into. Some part of her, likely the logical portion that yet complains, also restrains her from fully raising her voice in an attempt at melody.

And so Verna reverts to a passive, even subconscious method of self-focus as she works; one that also fits exceptionally well in cases where lyrics are lacking or unknown. She shifts from hymning to humming.

GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1: (13)+27+10+-4+1: 47
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste-5: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1-5: (7)+27+10+-4+1+-5: 36
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste-10: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1-10: (9)+27+10+-4+1+-10: 33
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1: (6)+27+10+-4+1: 40
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion+se+pa+haste-10: aliased to weapon1+charisma-4+1-10: (18)+27+10+-4+1+-10: 42
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg+sedmg: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8+8: (7)+9+8+8+8: 40
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8: (3)+9+8+8: 28
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8: (8)+9+8+8: 33
GAME: Seldan rolls reuniondmg+padmg+sedmg: aliased to 1d8+9+8+8: (7)+9+8+8: 32

The blue-white flicker of the wall in the moment it forms, before it fades into invisibility, prompts Seldan to incline his head in gratitude and appreeciation towards Cor'lana. Not idle were his efforts, then. it doesn't last long, for he's got a sword screaming with glee in his hand and business to take care of.

"Let me at 'em!" the querulous old man is yelling. "Come get a taste of a Padaryn! You're uglier than most, too!" Seldan suits actions to sword and, with a prayer to Eluna, lays into the creature in a flash of magic-fueled speed, sending ichor flying in every direction. The first is ribbons in a matter of seconds, and a second is left to bleed before him by the time he is finished.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+28: (17)+28: 45
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+28: (13)+28: 41
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+30: (18)+30: 48
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+30: (2)+30: 32
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+30: (7)+30: 37
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6+9: (6)+9: 15
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6+9: (1)+9: 10
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d6+9: (4)+9: 13
GAME: Seldan rolls fortitude: (13)+30: 43
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d8+9: (8)+9: 17

Being that he was there first, and the wall of force makes getting to Aryia harder, the swarming, large scorpion-like creatures have gotten to Seldan instead.

They swarm the warrior, slicing at him with pincer claws and tails. He's able to weather the storm effortlessly, though clearly injured by the sheer number of attacks he's being pressed by.

GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (8)+27+2+1: 38
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (3)+27+2+1: 33
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (7)+27+2+1: 37
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1-5: aliased to weapon0+2+1-5: (7)+27+2+1+-5: 32
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1-10: aliased to weapon0+2+1-10: (12)+27+2+1+-10: 32
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1-15: aliased to weapon0+2+1-15: (14)+27+2+1+-15: 29
GAME: Aryia rolls punch+1: aliased to weapon0+2+1: (18)+27+2+1: 48
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (13)+6+2+1: 22
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (19)+6+2+1: 28
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (6)+6+2+1: 15
GAME: Aryia rolls crunch: aliased to 2d10+strength+2+1: (13)+6+2+1: 22

Aryia throws a thumbs up towards Cor'lana as the wall seals the towering scorpion briefly, but Reunion's gleeful yelling grabs her attention as Seldan is getting swarmed with them, but holding fast amongst the tide. Making a snap judgement with the wall erected, she closes the distance in a blur, tackling one and smashing them into the ground, before snarling and pummeling them into the dirt.

She rises, fiendish ichor all across the front of her face as she readies to back the silverguard up.

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mass Suggestion/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 26
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (15)+14: 29
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (20)+14: 34
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (12)+14: 26
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (12)+14: 26
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (2)+14: 16
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (17)+14: 31
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (6)+14: 20
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+1 4: (18)+1 4: 23
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (20)+14: 34
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (8)+14: 22
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (9)+14: 23
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (11)+14: 25
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (2)+14: 16
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (7)+14: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (10)+14: 24
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (3)+14: 17
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (18)+14: 32

Wall in front of the portal and Aryia and Seldan going to town on some accursed spawn, Cor'lana estimates how best to help them. There are too many of them for her to affect with a paralysis spell like the large fiend. But maybe she can try... something else.

Magic's woven through her fingers as Cor'lana hums a little tune, before playfully singing, "Dance, magic, dance!"

To her surprise... Thirteen of them begin to do exactly as she suggests. Dance, magic, dance.

"... well done! Perhaps I should sing?" muses the Joyful King. He seems very uncomfortable, but confident in your abilities.

Meanwhile, the wall of force...

Cracks. A big old crack right down the middle. That's ... not good.

There are a lot of dancing scorpion-crab-monsters. They're doing little jigs.

There is one, very, very confused scoropion-crab monster. It turns slightly to one side, to observe its dancing companions. It tuen turns to the other side to observe its other dancing companions. It's tail twitches, as if to say 'What on earth?'.

Aryia dips and dives premptively, making her motions unpredictable in preparation for a tidal wave of fiendish insects. But then they and copy her moves, poorly. She blinks, looks back at Cor'lana for a moment before snorting and-

The pugilist looks to Seldan, heeds his warning without a thought, and with a quick twist, leaps from out of the crowd. She flips once, and lands in front of the massive maw.

The mul winds up like before. Like a top ready to go, foot extended. Defiant as she is, a middle digit is extended to the beast behind the cracking wall.

GAME: Seldan casts Flame Strike. Caster Level: 16 DC: 24

In moments, every exposed inch of Seldan's skin is covered in some odd black, glittery substance - which isn't much of him, considered. The sword in his hand shouts in glee as he carves through the beginning of the horde - and a cacophony of voices cackle in amused glee as the scorpions start to dance. Cor'lana gets another grateful look, but there isn't time for more than that.

He shouts a warning to Aryia, "Stand back!" and steps back himself, away from the dancing scorpions.

"What are you doing, boy? There's more demons to kill!"

"Hush, Kanian. They will die swiftly enough." Seldan's voice is almost cool.

He raises a gauntleted hand, and with wide, sweeping gestures, draws a series of sigils in the air before him, each interlocking with the crescent and sphere in their midst. Cor'lana might recognize a sigil in them meaning 'fire'. "In the holy name of Eluna, BURN!" he shouts, and the sigils burst to life in blue-silver-gold fire, then streak up into the sky. A boyish grin stretches his face and he backpedals another step for good measure, knowing what is coming.

A breath later, that blue-silver-gold fire comes *crashing* back to earth in a mighty pillar from the heavens that suffuses a big part of the group.

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Fireball/Elemental/Persistent. Caster Level: 20 DC: 22
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 10d6: (31): 31
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+14: (5)+16: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (11)+16: 27
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (1)+16: 17 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (13)+16: 29
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (16)+16: 32
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (18)+16: 34
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (8)+16: 24
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (8)+16: 24
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (9)+16: 25
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (10)+16: 26
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (15)+16: 31
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (18)+16: 34
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (2)+16: 18
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (5)+16: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (3)+16: 19
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (12)+16: 28
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (19)+16: 35
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+16: (17)+16: 33

Seldan delivers holy fire, and Cor'lana's violet eyes are alight in inspiration. There's something to be said for simply just raining hell onto the enemy. Telamon's better at it than she is, but...

That's never stopped her.

Cor'lana reaches into the sleeve of her robe and pricks herself on the sewing needle hidden in the hem. Blood drawn, she brings it to the curuchuil mark on her chest, that mark of a feather with the scales of Vardama inside of it. "Grandfather," she breathes as she closes her eyes, "give me what I need to fly."

When she opens them again, they're glowing brighter than before. When she makes her next incantation, instead of fire from her fingers, ice comes instead, and she launches a ball of it at the dancing fiends.

It's not as impressive as Seldan's holy flame, but Cor'lana feels a little bit of self-accomplishment when she sees the ice making contact and shattering across all of the fiends.

...crack.

The Joyful King pauses a moment. He considers it, then he turns towards Ravenstongue. "Be wary," he warns her. There's something more to that, but he doesn't have a chance to finish his uttered choice of warning.

The crack is growing because the portal is growing. A portal to the Hells that has the entire weight of, well... the hells behind it. It's not just the monster coming through -- not entirely. It's like the piece of the outside itself is trying to find its way through, the scorched, blackened twisting mass of the abyss crashing into it through the gate like a wave, tendrils spreading out into the earth in all directions from it, leaving it splintering, cracking, as darkness itself seeps into the ground in union. CRACK goes the wall of force, splintering more and then exploding with a thunderous crash as glimmering prismatic magic pieces go in all directions.

The beast slides out more through the portal, massive and three-headed, like three giant horrors merged into one being, riding a tidal wave of the abyss itself.