Fallen World (Mature, Dark)

[Jemal]

William looked up at the man as he slid across the wall, one eyebrow raised as he read the evil in this one.. not the worst he'd ever seen, but still not a good guy. Keeping an eye on the crazy guy, Sir Windwalker turned his attention back to Top Hat, who seemed the most moral person in the bar apart from him. Perhaps he should start with that one... So he started walking over to the barkeep & TopHat.
That's when he took a second glance at the newcomer, and realized that his stance was still facing the door, nervousness and anxiousness fighting for control.
"Hey barkeep, I got a feeling your bar's about to get renovated." William said as he approached the pair. "That man.. he is being chased." He nodded slightly, leaning on his staff.

[sblock=ooc]
24 on a general Sense-Motive. Should be enough to realize that Crazy Guy is scared of something outside, Eh? (Hunch: DC 20, PHB)

Trollbabe - I don't think seeing a dagger would startle anybody in this bar, most of them are probably carrying open weapons. (I don't recall reading anything about a weapon ban... did I? Maybe that's why I'm wielding a quarterstaff... I'm confused.)

BTW, it's "Proverbial". sry, I have a bad habit of correcting stuff.[/sblock]

 

[WarlockLord]

Mystic, the man in the Top Hat, turns to William. "Greetings. What is your name, and why might you be in these parts? he asks.

He declines the offer of opiates, as he doesn't like mind-influencing things in general (his mind is his weapon), and mentally composes himself in case of a fight. For now, he sits and watches.

[sblock=OOC]
What about my initiative?
1d20+6=17

Just thught I'd roll, in case somehow I got into this.
[/sblock]

 

[Jemal]

"Name's William, and right now.." He looks around at the newcomer, then glances at the barkeep "I'm just looking for a refill." He finishes as he plops the cup down. "And trying to find someone in this city to travel with who won't stab me in the back. I heard this old saying about 'safety in numbers', but..."

 

[WarlockLord]

"I have nothing better to do, if you need a traveling companion. I am versed in magick of all sorts, including healing. Pleased to meet you, William."

My name? I have none, but men call me Mystic. Demons call me worse."

 

[Nephtys]

[sblock=OOC]
What about my initiative?
1d20+6=17

Just thught I'd roll, in case somehow I got into this.
[/sblock]

ooc: Heh, sorry, I got you mixed up with the other alienist. Good for you, your initiative is higher this way.
--

The innkeeper begins to answer Aeryk before he's interrupted by a dart flying over the dodging asassin's shoulder and hitting the Mystic in the chest. (-2 hp) The enchantment and poison, both meant to cause a deep sleep, course trough his system before failing.
Time seems to stand still before the silence is suddenly broken by two loud crashes upstairs and two short figures, both clad in black from head to toe with their faces half covered tumble trough the door, the first of them taking a slash from Aeryk ( -11 hp) for a welcome, before taking a flanking position across from the second goblin. The second attacker throws a black bag at Aeryk's feet and ropy tentacles burst forth holding him in place. (entangled by Tanglefoot Bag) An ugly middle-aged woman screams and begins to run for the door, panicked.

ooc: ok, now it's time for Initiative:

Mystic: +17
Aeryk: +15
Barkeep: +11
Random patrons (6): +7
Windwalker: +6

Black Cloaks 1-2: +14
Black Cloaks 2-4: +10
Bad Guys ?-?:?

 

[Nephtys]

Big

"Don't thank me yet, big boy. Don't thank me yet..." The old man leads you trough a maze of darkened corridors, echoing with screams, sobbing and muted wet noices. The corridors continue and it feels like you've been walking for miles before you finally stand before a huge door of solid bronze. The old man looks at you in the now brighter light and frowns to himself. Mumbling something he touches you on the arm and the filth that covers you falls off you in a muddy avalanch of flakes that dissolve before hitting the floor. Content the man touches the door which opens soundlessly. Bowing sarcastically to someone on the other side he speaks in abyssal "Madam, your prisoner as you requested."
"Thank you worm, now crawl back into your hiding-place before someone accidentally steps on you," a Huge Hezrou replies in a voice dripping with loathing. Turning to her Babau guards she barks an order "Take the prisoner, but try not to kill him before we reach her ladyship."
ooc: It's all your stuff, they're just that confident...



Ysande

Your escort show considerably better grace and manners than the Half-giant's, though she insists that Kaj remain in the apartments. Ysande is accompanied by a lovely and delicate mortal girl, a pureblooded elf and a true rarity in these days. Clad in nothing but flower-petals of a thousand different hues she makes delightful and flirtatious conversation with you while her eyes scream in silent torment. You pass trough cavernous corridors, beautiful and impressive in an alien way, but stark compared to your memories of other courts. You continue, and the halls grow ever more artful. Your escort stops for a moment, drawing your attention to a sight as fascinating and lovely as it is horrible. A canvas of flesh and bone stretched tight over an iron frame, living beings demonic angelic and mortal alike melted together and drawn apart to create an intricate pattern of mezmerising beauty. The girl never stops speaking, her lovely and harmonious voice pointing out the finer features of the piece. "And you see there, I'm particularly proud over this little detail, there's my dear father emerging out from behind that weave of liver. He hardly looks like himself anymore, but I can still see him looking at me whenever I pass by. I just know how proud he must be." The eye looks out at the two of you with insane intensity. If you look too deep you know you will loose yourself forever in its horror. You pass other pieces, living and dead, mortal, immortal and material, but that eye stays in your inner sight.
"Ah, but here we are and it's time for me to bid you farewell. Take care with her ladyship. She's a sweet soul but even a just ruler must sometimes be harsh, though I know how it must pain her." she curtseys deeply, sending a couple of pink petals drifting slowly to the black silver floor, and walks away.

The door opens, and flanked by two colossal metal automatons you see the Marilith across a vast expanse of golden floor.

Ysande

 

[Jemal]

"Don't you know 'Tis bad manners to assault random patrons?" William scolds the nearest black-clad figure as he steps towards it, Staff swinging up and under the things jaw "Especially ones I'm trying to have a conversation with!" he finishes, jabbing the staff in quick succesion twice at the assassin's gut.

[sblock=combat info]
5' step to get into better position (If I'm close enough, Otherwise I'll move action towards it and just take the first swing.)

AC: 27, HP: 87/87, Movement rate: 40'.
+19/14/9, 1d6+10 damage (+2d6 vs Evil).
BTW, I can't remember, are we rolling our own attack/damage on Invisiblecastle or not?
IF so:
Attack Rolls: 15,8,19 for Ac's : 34, 22, 28.
Damage(Assuming it's evil): 20,17,22 (OR 12,12,14 if it's not Evil.)
[/sblock]

 

[Bloosquig]

Big's hands tighten involuntarily around his axe hilt for a moment as he flittingly thinks of the torture he's been under, of the almost overwhelming desire to lash out and slay these demons or die trying. But it lasts for just a moment and then sanity takes over and he follows them trying to avoid the stench emanating from the oversized toad.

Assuming nothing too untoward happens on the path to the Lady Big steps out onto the golden floor and after a moment falls to one knee and claps his axe to his breastplate with a steely ring in a gladiator syle salute. "The fact I stand in front of your august presence says you see some value in a soldier such as I. What are your wishes?" booms out Big.

Even while saying this however his eye's dart around seeking archers, guards, traps, or other unexpected surprises hiding in the wings. Spot roll

---

[sblock=ooc]
Just FYI I changed my original post to more accurately depict getting the gear back. Also I added an appearance part to my character sheet so you have a clearer picture of Big. And finally the stretched out person art is definately full of win. Very evil win but win nonetheless.
[/sblock]

 

[WarlockLord]

The Nameless One grins. "That was probably the most foolish thing you've ever done,", he says to the man who shot him. "Consider your life...ended."

[sblock=prepared spells]
Prepared (DC 17+ level):
0- detect magic (2), light, cure minor wounds,
1- bless, cure light wounds (2), snake's swiftness, silent image, charm person,
2- hold person, silence, mirror image, align fang, augury, align weapon
3- dispel magic, invisibility purge (2), evard's black tentacles, haste,
4- polymorph, divine power, enervation, flame strike, restoration,
5- raise dead, heal (2), summon monster V,
6-blade barrier, magic jar, mislead,
7-greater teleport, summon monster VII

[/sblock]

To make his point, the Mystic will cast summon monster VII, calling 1d3=1 Pseudonatural Huge Monstrous Spider to serve him in the battle. (He is an alienist, after all.)
He will summon it near the guys in the black cloaks. (I can post the stats later)

"Bleck'ogghcht! I, the Nameless One, call thee! Hear my call, and aid me in this battle! Come! There is food! he chants, pointing at but moving 30 ft. away from the black cloaks as he calls to Bleck'ogghcht.

 

[Nephtys]

[sblock=ooc]ooc: Do summoned creatures act in the round they are summoned or in the following round?
ooc2: Thanks Bloosquig .[/sblock]

--

Canthan

The Quasit returns and looks at you hatefully for a moment before making a flying bow and wordlessly beckoning you to follow it. You notice that its arms and legs are covered with tiny nasty-looking lesions, the marks of a mild torture. Apparently the fiendling has offended someone important.
Walking along the bright and airy corridors, moulded out of pearly white stone, you realise that this part of the palace was a remnant of an ancient elven structure. Looking out you get a magnificent view of the sprawling city below. From up here it almost looks beautiful. Proceeding deeper, down endless rows of stairs, the character of the building changes, growing darker and more imposing. Demonic and human courtiers and guards alike begin to pass you by, most of them ignoring you but others casting you calculating glances or, worse, friendly smiles.
You proceed deeper, and you too are subjected the view of the demonic art along the way. "Insight", a single man sliced into a hundred and fifty slices pressed between glass sheets and somehow still alive. "Creation", a pretty young woman aging years in a minute, feeding off a withered old corpse, birthing a daughter who likewise grows quickly older and begins to devour her aging mother while her own belly begins to swell with child, on and on and on, in a hypnotic rythm. You pass other pieces, but the Quasit quickens its pace. You see a woman before you, beautiful and exotic, standing by a pair of huge and elaborately decorated doors. The quasit squeaks and hurries you on and when you have reached the womans side it departs without a word. Trough the open doors, in a golden hall, you see what can only be Yangava, flanked by a pair of colossal metal automatons.