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Der Kluge's Wilderlands Campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="reddist" data-source="post: 3034207" data-attributes="member: 5212"><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">And I am not disappointed. As soon as Cyridon whips the amulet’s chain off the skeleton’s neck, they all jerk upright, pulling themselves up out of their crypts. We scatter about the room, arming our selves as Cyridon yells at us to stay our hands… he raises his sigil and utters words of command in his voice of broken glass, but it does not good. The skeletons rise up, standing now, with rusted longswords at the ready. A deep, hollow laughter erupts from the far end of the room as a gaunt, yellow-skinned figure comes slowly around the corner. Its eyes are coal black, its sickly yellow skin pulled tight across sharp, bony features. The vile symbol emblazoned in its ebon armor seems to pulse with a dark light as it raises its arms, calling to its minions.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Yelling madly I lash out at the nearest skeleton with my mace, sending shards of rotten bone to skitter across the stone floor. <span style="color: Olive">Bring the skeletons down now! Quickly! </span> I shout, leaping up on to the next sarcophagus. Theros puts a hand on Balderk’s arm, holding the knight back until Theros can complete a spell that makes Balderk’s flail glow with a faint blue light. Satisfied, Balderk makes his way straight to the gaunt figure in ebon armor, ignoring the lashing, hissing skeletons.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Cyridon tries again with his sigil, focusing all his will on the undead warrior, but again it laughs, shrugging off Cyridon’s control as easily as I might wave off a child. Then it reaches up to caress the eldritch symbol on its own black armor, and waves of power pulse through the room.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">I grit my teeth as fear tries to consume me. Chath yelps, dropping his sling and running from the room, but the rest of us hold fast against the waves of heart-freezing fear. Balderk reaches the dark horror in ebon armor, swinging his flail wildly. It easily dodges his blows and lashes out, raking its black, twisted claws across his neck and chest. Blood wells up bright and red from Balderk’s wounds and he staggers to his knees. I spin around with my mace and use the momentum to shatter another skeleton to splinters, taking one more step towards Balderk and his assailant, praying to Tymora I am not too late.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Cyridon musters his strength and raises his sigil high above his head, shouting commands at the skeletons in a loud, forceful voice. For a moment they turn to regard him, their arms dropping to their sides. The armored undead thing barks a sharp demand, driving his minions to a frenzy and forcing them to ignore the words of the pale, puny death-priest.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">Balderk regains his composure only to have his flail knocked from his grip. The ghastly being’s claws dig deep into Balderk’s chest and the knight cries out in pain as he collapses to his knees.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: 12px"><span style="font-family: 'Century Gothic'">I launch myself up off a sarcophagus, twisting in the air past a swinging skeleton, spinning again as I land to bring my heavy mace crushing down on the wight’s head. Chips of bone and shreds of skin fly from its skull as its knees crumple to the ground. It topples over with a crash, the ebony armor clanging on the stone tiles. </span> </span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="reddist, post: 3034207, member: 5212"] [SIZE=3][FONT=Century Gothic]And I am not disappointed. As soon as Cyridon whips the amulet’s chain off the skeleton’s neck, they all jerk upright, pulling themselves up out of their crypts. We scatter about the room, arming our selves as Cyridon yells at us to stay our hands… he raises his sigil and utters words of command in his voice of broken glass, but it does not good. The skeletons rise up, standing now, with rusted longswords at the ready. A deep, hollow laughter erupts from the far end of the room as a gaunt, yellow-skinned figure comes slowly around the corner. Its eyes are coal black, its sickly yellow skin pulled tight across sharp, bony features. The vile symbol emblazoned in its ebon armor seems to pulse with a dark light as it raises its arms, calling to its minions. Yelling madly I lash out at the nearest skeleton with my mace, sending shards of rotten bone to skitter across the stone floor. [COLOR=Olive]Bring the skeletons down now! Quickly! [/COLOR] I shout, leaping up on to the next sarcophagus. Theros puts a hand on Balderk’s arm, holding the knight back until Theros can complete a spell that makes Balderk’s flail glow with a faint blue light. Satisfied, Balderk makes his way straight to the gaunt figure in ebon armor, ignoring the lashing, hissing skeletons. Cyridon tries again with his sigil, focusing all his will on the undead warrior, but again it laughs, shrugging off Cyridon’s control as easily as I might wave off a child. Then it reaches up to caress the eldritch symbol on its own black armor, and waves of power pulse through the room. I grit my teeth as fear tries to consume me. Chath yelps, dropping his sling and running from the room, but the rest of us hold fast against the waves of heart-freezing fear. Balderk reaches the dark horror in ebon armor, swinging his flail wildly. It easily dodges his blows and lashes out, raking its black, twisted claws across his neck and chest. Blood wells up bright and red from Balderk’s wounds and he staggers to his knees. I spin around with my mace and use the momentum to shatter another skeleton to splinters, taking one more step towards Balderk and his assailant, praying to Tymora I am not too late. Cyridon musters his strength and raises his sigil high above his head, shouting commands at the skeletons in a loud, forceful voice. For a moment they turn to regard him, their arms dropping to their sides. The armored undead thing barks a sharp demand, driving his minions to a frenzy and forcing them to ignore the words of the pale, puny death-priest. Balderk regains his composure only to have his flail knocked from his grip. The ghastly being’s claws dig deep into Balderk’s chest and the knight cries out in pain as he collapses to his knees. I launch myself up off a sarcophagus, twisting in the air past a swinging skeleton, spinning again as I land to bring my heavy mace crushing down on the wight’s head. Chips of bone and shreds of skin fly from its skull as its knees crumple to the ground. It topples over with a crash, the ebony armor clanging on the stone tiles. [/FONT] [/SIZE] [/QUOTE]
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