[Adventure] Marna is Missing (DM: pacdidj, Judge: renau1g)

[pacdidj]

[sblock="Alnar or Arcana 19"]You are fairly sure that you could disrupt the rune's magic simply by rubbing out the center of the rune.[/sblock]

As Cyr approaches the door and calls out, the whispering sounds from within cease entirely and silence descends. It seems that Cyr has succeeded in getting the attention of whatever lies behind the door, but that it is waiting for you to make the first move.

 

[MetaVoid]

Arcana (1d20+9=27)

"Ready?" he asks his companions whispering.

He then puts his staff in the middle of the rune and makes the sign of Janus against the rune fudging it's lines. He calls out in elven again
"The warding is almost nullified, I will open the door now."
Judging the rune inactive he opens the door and stands confidently in front of them.

OOC: Deva has necrotic reistance and I can lower the damage in case of the attac as immediate interrupt. Be ready to take over in case of hostilities

 

[pacdidj]

As Cyr begins to open the heavy iron double door, a blast of chill air suddenly flings the door wide open, causing the deva to jump back a pace. The chamber inside the door is lit by several torches and braziers that flicker with a ghostly, cold light, by which you can see several armored Eldarin skeletons waiting for you with weapons drawn. One of the stronger-looking flesh-covered skeletons stands among their number, and behind the bony entourage hovers a wraith, apparently the source of the whispering sounds. It's shadowy face and form are continually swirling and contorting with paroxysms of rage.

[sblock=Streetwise 14]By the spectral crown on its head and the shadows of fine robes that trail from its sepulchral hands, you surmise that this is likely the shade of the primary occupant of this tomb: the king or noble depicted on the door panels.[/sblock]

Defilers!, it wails, apparently unconvinced of your good intentions as yet, despite Cyr's friendly words, Bringers of decay, servants of the Enemy... How dare you disturb this place!... Destroy them!... them... them...

The wraith's disturbing voice echoes eerily throughout the ruined halls, as the skeletons march toward you.

OOC: Initiatives please!

 

[MetaVoid]

History; Init (1d20+6=25, 1d20+8=14)
OOC: History roll to recall proper form of address of ancient eladrin (also name of the king in question?)

Concentrating on the symbols of the mad king and his own deep memories Cyr is slow to react.

Still, in last ditch attempt to forestall violence:
"Your Highness, we are not the defilers, they went that way." he points down the hall.
"If we were with them, we would know not to release you. And we wouldn't honor your dead! Look!" he points in other direction where single candle burns at the entrance of the crypt.
"I beseech You, there are true defilers and they are enacting a foul ritual that will increase power of the shadow in these lands. We're here to stop them, not help them. If you won't help at least let us pass. See from our acts what you don't believe from our words!"

OOC: he watches the king for any sign of stopping this madness (insight +11). If there is a chance, he tries to stop his friends from starting combat

 

[Luinnar]

We mean you no harm my lord, we shall leave imminently and trouble you no more. We are tracking down the heathen who has desecrated your place of living. Alnar says in his best diplomatic voice, nevertheless he readies for combat.


[sblock=ooc]
Rolls
Initiative = 7
Streetwise = 20
Diplomacy = 25
[/sblock]

 

[Iron Sky]

Sir Exsixten snaps out of his stupor, pointing his axe at the Wraith dramatically.

HAZY SCREAMER... ER... ER..., he booms, BRINGER OF NOMINAL THREATS, SERVANTS OF THE HOSTILE HALL, HOW DARE YOU ATTACK US WITH THIS PLACE? COUNTER-PROPOSAL: IMMANENT DESTRUCTION... SHUN... SHUN...

[sblock=Initiative 10]1d20+1=10[/sblock]

 

[Dekana]

Initiative (1d20+3=17)

Jezebel hopes the mages' efforts will be successful, but she takes no chances. She singles out one of the approaching skeletons and prepares to charge.

 

[samursus]

Ferris' hair on the nape of his neck bristles with the unnatural energy of these undead creatures. Everything inside of him screams that these creatures are wrong in the deepest sense of the word... a blasphemy against all that Dayna holds dear.

Nevertheless he waits on Cyr, who he has come to trust... and eyes Alnar warily making sure to stay out of his blast radius.

Streetwise=14
Initiative=20

 

[MetaVoid]

To Luinnar/Alnar: place of living indeed

To IronSky/Sir Ex: I don't believe we will EVER avoid an encounter if you continue like this

pacdidj, can this be turned into skill challenge? We already have few rolls to account for

 

[Luinnar]

To Luinnar/Alnar: place of living indeed

Living? Dieing? Dead? Something like that Alnar mutters to himself.