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<blockquote data-quote="Olgar Shiverstone" data-source="post: 3870882" data-attributes="member: 5868"><p><strong>Session 3: Enter the Lotus Dragons</strong></p><p></p><p><u>Dramatis Personae</u></p><p>Thalas, elf duskblade 1/wizard 1</p><p>Athal, elf warblade 2</p><p>Arjan, human druid 2 (Vow of Poverty)</p><p>Korlick, Arjan's dog companion</p><p>Quinn, human scout 2</p><p>Morderas, half-drow rogue 1/fighter 1</p><p>Rhiannon, elf cleric 2 (NPC replacing Kyrsith)</p><p></p><p></p><p>Morderas pounded Athal into wakefulness. Literally. With his fists. "Now we're even!" he told the elf; Athal merely looked confused, then fell back to rest. </p><p></p><p>They searched the small room and finding only evidence of a storeroom and a masterfully crafted silver dagger which they presented to Athal, barred the entry as best they could while Quinn took up the watch. Thalas fell back into a few hours of trance, after which he spent time resting and studying the spellbook he kept wrapped in oilskin in his pack. The book had belonged to his mother, and to her mother before her, and there were many, many pages of writing in it. Thalas had finally managed to dechiper about a quarter of the book, and the means to imprint the magical energies represnted by the symbols in the book were finally within his grasp. He wasn't sure if this was the payoff of years of study, or if the last few days of stress had finally removed whatever block to understanding existed in his mind, but either way he was certain: he could now tap into not only his combat magic, but also into the arcane energies that surrounded him. He'd finally be able to draw on magic to armor as well as arm him. At least eventually -- tomorrow he planned to rely on his trusty chain shirt -- but he'd have a few tricks from his mother's spellbook up his sleeve, just in case.</p><p></p><p>Once everyone had rested, the discussed their options. Back the way they had come was the most likely way out -- west toward the shore, where they could faintly hear pounding surf. Yet none of them felt they could leave a likely enemy behind, so when they departed the small room, the first went right, following a winding corridor that eventually ended in a lagre stone amphitheater that was half submerged under water. Four enormous columns held up the ceiling. The only sound was the occasional dripping of water and the roar of the surf. They searched, and finding no exit, retraced their steps back through the last large room they had passed through, exiting through a water-damaged door in the western wall.</p><p></p><p>Beyond was a dog-leg corridor which ended in a swollen door. Athal put his ear to the wet wood, and frowned. "I hear armored, booted feet beyond," he told the others, and all readied their weapon as Athal made ready to force the door.</p><p></p><p>"I can help," Thalas added, whispering a bit of magic he'd stored away from the night before. As Athal forced the door open, the portal swung solently on its hinges, making no sound though Athal had given it a mighty heave. Thalas winked at his companions: "I learned a few tricks last night."</p><p></p><p>Beyond, in a large featureless chamber, four humanoid figures huddled with backs two them. Three wore the trappings of sailors, and could obviously be see to be more of the zombie pirates they had fought before. The fourth was a skeletal figured ressed in ancient armor. The atmosphere of the place was oppressive and evil.</p><p></p><p>Athal charged, targeting the armored skeleton, and Thalas was right behind him into the room as Morderas doged around him and struck the figure, but his sharp baldes appeared to have no effect. </p><p></p><p>The room suddenly filled with a blast of holy light as the cleric raised her holy symbol, comanding the restless dead to retreat. And all four figures did so, falling back into a back corner of the room, pursued by the adventurers. Thalas successfully staggered, then dropped one zombie with carefullly placed strikes from his glaive, while Arjan and Morderas continued attacking the retreating armored skeleton, with no apparent effect. Quinn bounded by, unlimbering an ax, but it to did nothing to harm the skeletal creature. </p><p></p><p>Thalas switched to spellcraft, unleaching a green bolt of arcane energy that destroyed a second zombie, but subsequent bolts directed at the skeleton creature had no apparent effect. Puzzled, he called to Morderas: "Come here, I've an idea."</p><p></p><p>Athal had by this time backed the skeleton into a corner -- it was luckily making no attempt to attack, but cowered and tried to escape -- and Arjan was waving a lighted torch at the creature. Morderas stepped close, and Thalas channeled fire at the half-drow, setting both of the rogues daggers ablaze. Morderas, now a veritable whirlwind of fire, struck the skeleton twice as the flames began to dwindle, but again the strikes appeared to have little effect.</p><p></p><p><em>We'd better drop that thing soon,</em> Thalas thought. <em>They will turn and attack us soon. And we haven't yet been able to penetrate that skeleton-thing's defenses. Only one more trick left.</em> He reached deep and channeled, seeing where the coming blow would need to be placed for precise effect. Then he concentrated on the blood in his veins, and his skin tore open as the steaming blood burst forth, dripping to the floor and running down his arms and down the handle of his glaive to drip from the blade.</p><p></p><p>Yelling "Sunrise and Sasserine!" Thalas struck at the armored skeleton. The mighty blow cleaved bone and armor, and though his sight swam and he felt near to fainting, Thalas could see that the sacrifice of his own blood had been enough to sever the creatures sinews and it dropped, twitching. He staggered back, breathing a sigh of relief, and then gasping from the pain caused by the magical exertion. </p><p></p><p>Quinn and Korlick dispatched the last zombie, and the party stood gasping for breath. the entire melee had taken but moments, but Thalas could tell it had been a near thing. Without the cleric's efforts to keep the creatures at bay, they would have been done for.</p><p></p><p>"Healing?" he asked, and soon the blissful calm of healing magics covered him, closing his wounds and restoring the energy he had sacrificed to destroy the skeleton.</p><p></p><p>"This thing is unusual," Kyrsith observed. See was examining the remains of the skeleton. "It bears the unholy symbols of Olidammara, evil patron god of thieves. And it is no mere risen skeleton, but instead a hecueva, a being of disease and unholy blight. They can only be harmed by silver, which is why so few of our blows hurt it. A shame I did not realize it earlier. I fear this adventuring is becoming too much for me -- I should have realized it at once."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Olgar Shiverstone, post: 3870882, member: 5868"] [b]Session 3: Enter the Lotus Dragons[/b] [u]Dramatis Personae[/u] Thalas, elf duskblade 1/wizard 1 Athal, elf warblade 2 Arjan, human druid 2 (Vow of Poverty) Korlick, Arjan's dog companion Quinn, human scout 2 Morderas, half-drow rogue 1/fighter 1 Rhiannon, elf cleric 2 (NPC replacing Kyrsith) Morderas pounded Athal into wakefulness. Literally. With his fists. "Now we're even!" he told the elf; Athal merely looked confused, then fell back to rest. They searched the small room and finding only evidence of a storeroom and a masterfully crafted silver dagger which they presented to Athal, barred the entry as best they could while Quinn took up the watch. Thalas fell back into a few hours of trance, after which he spent time resting and studying the spellbook he kept wrapped in oilskin in his pack. The book had belonged to his mother, and to her mother before her, and there were many, many pages of writing in it. Thalas had finally managed to dechiper about a quarter of the book, and the means to imprint the magical energies represnted by the symbols in the book were finally within his grasp. He wasn't sure if this was the payoff of years of study, or if the last few days of stress had finally removed whatever block to understanding existed in his mind, but either way he was certain: he could now tap into not only his combat magic, but also into the arcane energies that surrounded him. He'd finally be able to draw on magic to armor as well as arm him. At least eventually -- tomorrow he planned to rely on his trusty chain shirt -- but he'd have a few tricks from his mother's spellbook up his sleeve, just in case. Once everyone had rested, the discussed their options. Back the way they had come was the most likely way out -- west toward the shore, where they could faintly hear pounding surf. Yet none of them felt they could leave a likely enemy behind, so when they departed the small room, the first went right, following a winding corridor that eventually ended in a lagre stone amphitheater that was half submerged under water. Four enormous columns held up the ceiling. The only sound was the occasional dripping of water and the roar of the surf. They searched, and finding no exit, retraced their steps back through the last large room they had passed through, exiting through a water-damaged door in the western wall. Beyond was a dog-leg corridor which ended in a swollen door. Athal put his ear to the wet wood, and frowned. "I hear armored, booted feet beyond," he told the others, and all readied their weapon as Athal made ready to force the door. "I can help," Thalas added, whispering a bit of magic he'd stored away from the night before. As Athal forced the door open, the portal swung solently on its hinges, making no sound though Athal had given it a mighty heave. Thalas winked at his companions: "I learned a few tricks last night." Beyond, in a large featureless chamber, four humanoid figures huddled with backs two them. Three wore the trappings of sailors, and could obviously be see to be more of the zombie pirates they had fought before. The fourth was a skeletal figured ressed in ancient armor. The atmosphere of the place was oppressive and evil. Athal charged, targeting the armored skeleton, and Thalas was right behind him into the room as Morderas doged around him and struck the figure, but his sharp baldes appeared to have no effect. The room suddenly filled with a blast of holy light as the cleric raised her holy symbol, comanding the restless dead to retreat. And all four figures did so, falling back into a back corner of the room, pursued by the adventurers. Thalas successfully staggered, then dropped one zombie with carefullly placed strikes from his glaive, while Arjan and Morderas continued attacking the retreating armored skeleton, with no apparent effect. Quinn bounded by, unlimbering an ax, but it to did nothing to harm the skeletal creature. Thalas switched to spellcraft, unleaching a green bolt of arcane energy that destroyed a second zombie, but subsequent bolts directed at the skeleton creature had no apparent effect. Puzzled, he called to Morderas: "Come here, I've an idea." Athal had by this time backed the skeleton into a corner -- it was luckily making no attempt to attack, but cowered and tried to escape -- and Arjan was waving a lighted torch at the creature. Morderas stepped close, and Thalas channeled fire at the half-drow, setting both of the rogues daggers ablaze. Morderas, now a veritable whirlwind of fire, struck the skeleton twice as the flames began to dwindle, but again the strikes appeared to have little effect. [i]We'd better drop that thing soon,[/i] Thalas thought. [i]They will turn and attack us soon. And we haven't yet been able to penetrate that skeleton-thing's defenses. Only one more trick left.[/i] He reached deep and channeled, seeing where the coming blow would need to be placed for precise effect. Then he concentrated on the blood in his veins, and his skin tore open as the steaming blood burst forth, dripping to the floor and running down his arms and down the handle of his glaive to drip from the blade. Yelling "Sunrise and Sasserine!" Thalas struck at the armored skeleton. The mighty blow cleaved bone and armor, and though his sight swam and he felt near to fainting, Thalas could see that the sacrifice of his own blood had been enough to sever the creatures sinews and it dropped, twitching. He staggered back, breathing a sigh of relief, and then gasping from the pain caused by the magical exertion. Quinn and Korlick dispatched the last zombie, and the party stood gasping for breath. the entire melee had taken but moments, but Thalas could tell it had been a near thing. Without the cleric's efforts to keep the creatures at bay, they would have been done for. "Healing?" he asked, and soon the blissful calm of healing magics covered him, closing his wounds and restoring the energy he had sacrificed to destroy the skeleton. "This thing is unusual," Kyrsith observed. See was examining the remains of the skeleton. "It bears the unholy symbols of Olidammara, evil patron god of thieves. And it is no mere risen skeleton, but instead a hecueva, a being of disease and unholy blight. They can only be harmed by silver, which is why so few of our blows hurt it. A shame I did not realize it earlier. I fear this adventuring is becoming too much for me -- I should have realized it at once." [/QUOTE]
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