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Carnifex's SH - Updated July 24th, Light and Questions
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<blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 1660774" data-attributes="member: 227"><p>Be spoiled some more then <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>The Templar in the middle of the pack of adventurers continued to try and smash those facing him asunder, a torrent of flies still flowing from the barbed censer that he whirled in a circle of lethality. Using his weight and strength to force forwards, he made another sweep with his weapon; while Ebri dodged and Sebastion managed to fend of the weight ball and chain with his blades, this time Cazamir was not fast enough on his feet to avoid the spiked sphere crunching into him and knocking him back. Shedding a trail of blood specks as well as winged insects now, the weapon continued to arc round and impacted into Meg'anna, who had just come to the aid of her comrades, sending her reeling even as her druidic magic began to knit up the injury immediately. The final victim of the terrible attack was Jarvis, unable to withstand the sheer force of the strike as it wove round to hit him in the shoulder, but he was lucky the Kevayek zealot had not brought the weapon up slightly higher for it would have shattered his skull. </p><p></p><p></p><p>But the furious Templar was still surrounded and his foes quickly regained the initiative. Meg'anna's spear flared with magical flame as it struck his back-plate, punching through to inflict a shallow injury. The fire serpent, which had its fiery coils protectively near to its summoner up until now, decided that the approaching zealot was a threat to Melisande and moved in to attack as well, its white-hot fangs skittering off armour with a hiss and splash of liquid metal. Flies immolated themselves on its incendiary hide as it recoiled for another attack. </p><p></p><p></p><p>As her kama sliced into the belly of her enemy, Ebri paused in her dictation. As often happened to her in combat, her mind seemed far away, separate from her body, working its own patterns in isolation. What it thought now was <em>This is odd. Unnatural, even for a religious zealot.</em> It was not that she did not believe that fanatical idolators could withstand pain and injury-- berserkers were a well-attested phenomenon. Yet these fighters did not seem out of control. Simply very, very resilient. </p><p></p><p></p><p><em>As if, perhaps, the injury we do them only strengthens them. Observe, her mind began,</em> as if embarking on a edificatory dialogue, <em>that they worship disease and foul things, and by implication, death. Might then their normal order of inclinations be reversed? </em></p><p></p><p></p><p>If that held, what followed would lead her to a course of action that was a fearful risk, but... </p><p></p><p></p><p>Ebri tried her calculated gambit, reaching out to not harm but heal, the spell of <em>cure light wounds</em> leaving a trail of shimmering energy as she reached out to touch the man; she could not see any immediate effects for either good or bad, but it certainly didn't seem to have stopped or particularly hurt the Templar in any visible way. </p><p></p><p></p><p><em>DM's Note: Ebri's player rather suspected that the templars might actually be injured by positive energy and healed by negative energy - but unfortunately, she was wrong. Nice idea though - I'll have to steal it and use it at some point <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /> </em></p><p></p><p></p><p>Later, Sebastion realised, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he would be irritated at how easily the templar had evaded his initial assault. Reliant on the weighty armour, he hadn't made any attempt to evade the strikes Sebastion sent his way, merely angling his body slightly to take the strikes on the broad expanse of scabrous plate. </p><p></p><p></p><p>It wasn't a conscious decision - in the forced calm of the Dance of Steel there were no conscious decisions, there was simply the flow of attack, defence and movement - but a shift of the feet took Sebastion from the techniques of the Air style to something more forceful. His feet shifted, his weight settling as he brought the twin blades into a vertical alignment, staring across the narrow vein of steel, and spoke quietly to his companions... "Take him to the floor..." he hissed through teetch clenched hard against the cloud of insects.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Then, in fearsome combination, Sebastion moved to trip the mighty warrior, assaulting the legs and ankles with a flurry of strikes, and Cazamir, Wyshira and Jarvis all took a part in the endeavour. With the combination of their effort, and with Sebastion's own strength augmented by Meg'anna's druidic magic, he was able to knock the Templar off balance and then with a final leverage they sent the armoured man clattering to the floor, skidding along the wet stone as he fell. </p><p></p><p></p><p>Slightly further down the corridor, the Carthagians continued their assault on the second Templar. The clogging clouds of flies meant that many of their attacks went astray, distracted by the mass of verminous things clustering over them, but the Toranite connected with another hit that knocked the Kevayeki man reeling, the clang of mace against armour resounding even over the humming of the insects. Now seriously injured, almost incapacitated despite the Templar's seemingly incredible resistance to pain, the man was forced to weave another spell that shrouded his hand in green energy, healing the most recent wound he had suffered. Then Gaethras threw another spell that Melisande recognised at the foe - a <em>boneshatter</em> incantation - that lashed out and crackled with dark energy across the man's form for a few moments. With a resounding crack the energy surged inwards and he began to convulse as it fractured his bones, and within a few moments he toppled onto the floor, incapacitated and unconcious. The Toranite stepped up to grant the final coup de grace. </p><p></p><p></p><p>Mel quickly left off with the grappling hook and the rope, which were not having as spectacular an effect as she had been hoping for, and decided to opt for something more useful. The part of her mind where the magic lived was already weakening, going numb like an overused limb. She knew she would not be able to conjure much more sorcery and had been conserving what was left of her mental spark for a more important foe, but these putrid priests were turning out more impervious to harm than they looked with their rusted-through armor. </p><p></p><p></p><p>First, though, she was worried about Kale. Quick as he may have been, he wasn't much of a match for that bladed flail if it ever connected. Mel tumbled Pierre out of her pocket and told him, <em>Quit with the flies for long enough to take this spell to Kale, will you? </em> Then she drew a big breath, held it, and lowered her protective sleeve to prepare another spell.</p><p></p><p></p><p>As Pierre tried to make his way along the tunnel to reach Kale, the diminutive amphibian realised with worry that Kale wasn't hanging around for him to reach. The man made a darting strike with the brine blade against the Templar he faced but was unable to find a weak spot even with the advantage his feint had given him, the acidic exudations of the sword merely etching a line across the armour. Then he easily broke free of the warrior and was backing off down the corridor, seemingly trying to lure the man along. </p><p></p><p></p><p>Ansas'Turi sent another bolt at the Templar lumbering after Kale, but the thick fog of flies made even seeing the figure difficult and it went wide. The same was true for the minor attack spells that Johanne and Jarael sent off at the zealot, but then Burl fished a vial of alchemists fire out of one of his pouches and hurled it with impressive accuracy. Kale, backing away from the hulking foe and his whirling flail, saw the glass container shatter against the Templar's back and illuminate his outline in a sudden corona of flame. Still, the man kept coming, breaking into a sudden charge that caught Kale off-guard, but the overhead swing that his attacker made with the spiked weapon was easy to see from a mile off and when the barbed head smashed downwards into the ground, sending flecks of chipped stone in all directions, Kale had already easily evaded it.</p><p></p><p></p><p><em>Next time: The battle and the aftermath. Sure to be interesting - after all, Ebri's just revealed she's an assassin from the near-mythical community of the Nephians. The others will have something to say about </em>that<em> <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /> </em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Carnifex, post: 1660774, member: 227"] Be spoiled some more then ;) The Templar in the middle of the pack of adventurers continued to try and smash those facing him asunder, a torrent of flies still flowing from the barbed censer that he whirled in a circle of lethality. Using his weight and strength to force forwards, he made another sweep with his weapon; while Ebri dodged and Sebastion managed to fend of the weight ball and chain with his blades, this time Cazamir was not fast enough on his feet to avoid the spiked sphere crunching into him and knocking him back. Shedding a trail of blood specks as well as winged insects now, the weapon continued to arc round and impacted into Meg'anna, who had just come to the aid of her comrades, sending her reeling even as her druidic magic began to knit up the injury immediately. The final victim of the terrible attack was Jarvis, unable to withstand the sheer force of the strike as it wove round to hit him in the shoulder, but he was lucky the Kevayek zealot had not brought the weapon up slightly higher for it would have shattered his skull. But the furious Templar was still surrounded and his foes quickly regained the initiative. Meg'anna's spear flared with magical flame as it struck his back-plate, punching through to inflict a shallow injury. The fire serpent, which had its fiery coils protectively near to its summoner up until now, decided that the approaching zealot was a threat to Melisande and moved in to attack as well, its white-hot fangs skittering off armour with a hiss and splash of liquid metal. Flies immolated themselves on its incendiary hide as it recoiled for another attack. As her kama sliced into the belly of her enemy, Ebri paused in her dictation. As often happened to her in combat, her mind seemed far away, separate from her body, working its own patterns in isolation. What it thought now was [i]This is odd. Unnatural, even for a religious zealot.[/i] It was not that she did not believe that fanatical idolators could withstand pain and injury-- berserkers were a well-attested phenomenon. Yet these fighters did not seem out of control. Simply very, very resilient. [i]As if, perhaps, the injury we do them only strengthens them. Observe, her mind began,[/i] as if embarking on a edificatory dialogue, [i]that they worship disease and foul things, and by implication, death. Might then their normal order of inclinations be reversed? [/i] If that held, what followed would lead her to a course of action that was a fearful risk, but... Ebri tried her calculated gambit, reaching out to not harm but heal, the spell of [i]cure light wounds[/i] leaving a trail of shimmering energy as she reached out to touch the man; she could not see any immediate effects for either good or bad, but it certainly didn't seem to have stopped or particularly hurt the Templar in any visible way. [i]DM's Note: Ebri's player rather suspected that the templars might actually be injured by positive energy and healed by negative energy - but unfortunately, she was wrong. Nice idea though - I'll have to steal it and use it at some point ;) [/i] Later, Sebastion realised, somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he would be irritated at how easily the templar had evaded his initial assault. Reliant on the weighty armour, he hadn't made any attempt to evade the strikes Sebastion sent his way, merely angling his body slightly to take the strikes on the broad expanse of scabrous plate. It wasn't a conscious decision - in the forced calm of the Dance of Steel there were no conscious decisions, there was simply the flow of attack, defence and movement - but a shift of the feet took Sebastion from the techniques of the Air style to something more forceful. His feet shifted, his weight settling as he brought the twin blades into a vertical alignment, staring across the narrow vein of steel, and spoke quietly to his companions... "Take him to the floor..." he hissed through teetch clenched hard against the cloud of insects. Then, in fearsome combination, Sebastion moved to trip the mighty warrior, assaulting the legs and ankles with a flurry of strikes, and Cazamir, Wyshira and Jarvis all took a part in the endeavour. With the combination of their effort, and with Sebastion's own strength augmented by Meg'anna's druidic magic, he was able to knock the Templar off balance and then with a final leverage they sent the armoured man clattering to the floor, skidding along the wet stone as he fell. Slightly further down the corridor, the Carthagians continued their assault on the second Templar. The clogging clouds of flies meant that many of their attacks went astray, distracted by the mass of verminous things clustering over them, but the Toranite connected with another hit that knocked the Kevayeki man reeling, the clang of mace against armour resounding even over the humming of the insects. Now seriously injured, almost incapacitated despite the Templar's seemingly incredible resistance to pain, the man was forced to weave another spell that shrouded his hand in green energy, healing the most recent wound he had suffered. Then Gaethras threw another spell that Melisande recognised at the foe - a [i]boneshatter[/i] incantation - that lashed out and crackled with dark energy across the man's form for a few moments. With a resounding crack the energy surged inwards and he began to convulse as it fractured his bones, and within a few moments he toppled onto the floor, incapacitated and unconcious. The Toranite stepped up to grant the final coup de grace. Mel quickly left off with the grappling hook and the rope, which were not having as spectacular an effect as she had been hoping for, and decided to opt for something more useful. The part of her mind where the magic lived was already weakening, going numb like an overused limb. She knew she would not be able to conjure much more sorcery and had been conserving what was left of her mental spark for a more important foe, but these putrid priests were turning out more impervious to harm than they looked with their rusted-through armor. First, though, she was worried about Kale. Quick as he may have been, he wasn't much of a match for that bladed flail if it ever connected. Mel tumbled Pierre out of her pocket and told him, [i]Quit with the flies for long enough to take this spell to Kale, will you? [/i] Then she drew a big breath, held it, and lowered her protective sleeve to prepare another spell. As Pierre tried to make his way along the tunnel to reach Kale, the diminutive amphibian realised with worry that Kale wasn't hanging around for him to reach. The man made a darting strike with the brine blade against the Templar he faced but was unable to find a weak spot even with the advantage his feint had given him, the acidic exudations of the sword merely etching a line across the armour. Then he easily broke free of the warrior and was backing off down the corridor, seemingly trying to lure the man along. Ansas'Turi sent another bolt at the Templar lumbering after Kale, but the thick fog of flies made even seeing the figure difficult and it went wide. The same was true for the minor attack spells that Johanne and Jarael sent off at the zealot, but then Burl fished a vial of alchemists fire out of one of his pouches and hurled it with impressive accuracy. Kale, backing away from the hulking foe and his whirling flail, saw the glass container shatter against the Templar's back and illuminate his outline in a sudden corona of flame. Still, the man kept coming, breaking into a sudden charge that caught Kale off-guard, but the overhead swing that his attacker made with the spiked weapon was easy to see from a mile off and when the barbed head smashed downwards into the ground, sending flecks of chipped stone in all directions, Kale had already easily evaded it. [i]Next time: The battle and the aftermath. Sure to be interesting - after all, Ebri's just revealed she's an assassin from the near-mythical community of the Nephians. The others will have something to say about [/i]that[i] :) [/i] [/QUOTE]
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