Session 15 (Part Three)
Madness and Mayhem
The strangely armored warrior’s eyes narrowed through his helmet slits as Rosë twisted off his weapon and attacked with deafening roar. The man tried to dodge, but the great axe slammed home, tearing into his torso and knocking him backwards. Lew and Rowan exchanged astonished glances, amazed that the Brigante was still on his feet. Lew’s heart sank has he saw several bloody bubbles appear from the hole in Rosë’s back, ‘Osirian help him…his lung is breached.’
(DM’s Note: A ranseur crit is x3. I think the hit on Rosë did 32 points of damage…ouch!)
Drusilla tried to reach the enemy warrior, but couldn’t move past the sweep of the barbarian’s axe, so she sidestepped, reversed the grip on her dagger and flung it towards the crossbowmen, scoring a minor hit. Rowan and Lew each loosed another missile with no effect. Realizing the futility of further sniping, they readied their weapons and moved into the room, followed closely by Sextus. The crossbowmen on the other side of the doorway fired again, grazing the bard.
Somewhat restored by Sextus, Quintus pulled the table across the pit, turned it on its side to act as a barrier and loaded his crossbow with one of his last “Lathan” bolts. Every fiber in his being urged him to join his companions, but he knew he couldn’t leave the rear unguarded. Below, he could hear the sounds of wood scraping against stone, but couldn’t make anything out from his position.
The badly wounded warrior disengaged from Rosë, stepped back into a corner of the study and quaffed a potion he pulled from his broad belt. His outline shimmered and he disappeared from view. The barbarian, ignoring the gaping wound in his chest, screamed in fury and leaped forward, hacking at the space with his axe. The whistling blade cut naught but air. Drusilla moved up on the Brigante’s flank, swinging her blades in a desperate attempt to find the now invisible foe.
Rowan, Lew and Sextus pushed through the doorway to get at the Shadowblade crossbowmen. The progress was abruptly halted when an armored fighter slammed into Rowan and cut him badly with a spatha blow. The madly cackling figure that had been prancing around behind the archer line weaved his hands together and shouted, “Eyes!”
Rowan saw the crossbowman and shield-and-sword fighter turn their heads slightly, then the area around he and his companions exploded in a dizzying pattern of colors. Green, blue, red and yellow motes swirled about in a scintillating display that beckoned the ranger’s attention. Rowan managed to resist the pull, but he noted – to his great dismay – that both Lew and Sextus immobile, weapons forgotten in their hands, staring slack-jawed at the bright lights.
Laughter tinged with madness rose to an almost girlish pitch, “Leave them…kill the others!”
(DM’s Note: Hypnotic Pattern!)
Quintus’ mind raced furiously. He had seen four men enter the room below and he was certain their prisoners had been released and were now re-armed. He possessed little in the way of offensive capability against so many, particularly in his wounded state. He used a minor spell to summon forth the screams and shouts of dying men and started hurling threats down the stairs, “When we finish with your friends up here, we are coming for you!”
Rosë, who had also shrugged off the effects of the wizard’s magic, pivoted and smashed his axe through the guard of the fighter who was battling Rowan. The man grimaced in pain, but recovered quickly and attacked the ranger again. The enemy crossbowmen, unable to find any targets, discarded their weapons and pulled out gladii, adding to the knot of armed men in the doorway. Drusilla continued to move about the study, feinting and swinging, trying to locate their invisible foe. Rowan thrust at the shield-bearer, wounding him slightly, then felt an icy sting as a thin ray of frost his chest.
The flaming sphere guarding the bottom of the stairwell folded in on itself and winked out of existence. Quintus heard a yell and a trio of Shadowblades charged through the doorway and up the stairs. The sorcerer dropped a Sleep spell in their midst and two of them slumped to the floor at the base of the stairs. The third, a heavily armored warrior, continued to bound up the stairs. Quintus sent a bolt into the man just as he reached the top landing. He had been hoping for a spectacular display of electrical power, but the quarrel only struck a glancing blow, knocking the man to the side and out of his view.
Rowan spared a quick glance towards Rosë. His friend had taken enough damage to kill five normal men and bloody spittle was hanging from his lips, but he continued to battle defiantly. His next axe stroke cut under the rim of the scutum guarding the enemy fighter’s left flank and sheared through the man’s leg, sending him spinning to the floor. A wild-eyed grin of victory was replaced a moment later by a look of profound shock.
Drusilla saw the shimmer, but she was out of position and too far away to do anything but scream soundlessly. She saw the warrior’s form appear as he completed a fluid thrust and buried his weapon in Rosë’s lower back. The Brigante stiffened reflexively, then slid slowly to the floor, as the twin-tined spear was withdrawn, bloody axe falling from nerveless fingers. The slight young woman threw herself at the man, hacking furiously with gladius and pugio and trying to get inside his guard.
Rowan saw Rosë drop out of sight in his peripheral vision and assisted one of the Shadowblades in joining him with a wicked thrust through the gut. He was immensely relieved to see the swirling motes of color slow then fade away and noted that both Sextus and Lew where shaking their heads groggily. Glancing down, he saw that Rosë’s chest was still rising and falling in great, ragged gasps.
(DM’s Note: I made a tactical error here with the Hypnotic Pattern…I didn’t note keeping the pattern active required concentration, so I let the enemy wizard perform another action. As a result, the spell dissipated 2 rounds after he ceased concentrating on it. Just to balance things out, Rowan’s player realized that he had forgotten he had an active Bull’s Strength from the last session…so it all evens out
!)
Quintus blindly grabbed another quarrel and slapped it onto his crossbow’s stock and waiting for the man to reappear. To his horror, the other door of the double set opened and the man charged in, shield raised. The sorcerer scrambled back madly, rotating his Shield spell to cover his exposed flank and wildly discharging his weapon. The bolt took the man in the hip, upsetting his balance and aim so that his blade stroke passed just over Quintus’ head.
(DM’s Note: If you will remember, there was a set of double doors at the top of the steps, with the pit trap in front of one. Quintus’ player assumed that the other door was either locked or trapped, so you imagine his surprise when the enemy swordsman simply opened the door and ran in!)
Quintus tried to jump away and felt his back slam into the wall. He desperately called forth mystical bolts and sent two of them slamming into the fighter’s chest. The man swayed and dropped to his knees. His eyes locked on Quintus’ and the sorcerer saw them narrow in anger and hatred. Gritting his teeth, the man lunged forward with what was left of his ebbing strength behind the blow. The tip of the spatha skittered off the stone wall a handsbreadth from Quintus’ midsection as the warrior slowly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The heavily muscled warrior dropped one hand from his spear as Drusilla stepped inside the weapon’s reach and smashed his armored left fist into the side of her head with crushing force, sending her staggering back. Sextus came to his senses and found himself in close proximity to the enemy fighter, he readied his twin gladii and attacked, but the man dodged his blows.
Lew emerged from a haze to find himself with his crossbow in his hands and in the midst of chaos. To his left rear, Sextus and Drusilla were battling the strangely armored warrior. Rosë lay in a pool of widening blood to his front and Rowan, ignoring the two gray cloak swordsmen in the doorway, was dropping to his knees beside the barbarian. Lew dropped a bolt into the arming groove and snapped a shot at one of the Shadowblades, wounding him slightly. Fevered cackling arose from the room beyond as three arcane bolts slashed through the study and slammed into Sextus, drawing a loud cry of pain. The high-pitched voice called out an unintelligible command.
Rowan gritted his teeth against the sword cut that raked across his shoulder as he tried desperately to patch Rosë’s gaping wounds with bandages. He attempted no finesse, choosing instead to stuff every binding cloth he had into the barbarian’s savaged torso. Most of the fabric turned crimson within a grain or two, but the ranger thought that he might of done some good. Mouthing a quick prayer to Corelian, he snatched up his sword and returned to the fray.
(DM’s Note: Rowan won “Roleplayer of the Session” for this selfless action. He braved two AoOs to try and help Rosë and actually succeeded on a high DC Heal check!)
The enemy warrior clapped his off hand back onto his spear, feinted towards Drusilla, spun and smoothly ran Sextus through, before dodging off through the combatants. As the younger Scipio flopped to the floor, Drusilla cut at his back ineffectually and the warrior ran right past Lew who, armed with only a crossbow, could do nothing to impede his escape. He dove just out of reach of Rowan’s blade and tumbled through the doorway to rejoin his companions. As the warrior cleared the portal, the tittering voice shouted arcane words and sticky strands of webbing, like those spun by some monstrous spider, filled the study.
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 15 (Part Four) – Stop That Insane Laughter!
~ Old One
Madness and Mayhem
The strangely armored warrior’s eyes narrowed through his helmet slits as Rosë twisted off his weapon and attacked with deafening roar. The man tried to dodge, but the great axe slammed home, tearing into his torso and knocking him backwards. Lew and Rowan exchanged astonished glances, amazed that the Brigante was still on his feet. Lew’s heart sank has he saw several bloody bubbles appear from the hole in Rosë’s back, ‘Osirian help him…his lung is breached.’
(DM’s Note: A ranseur crit is x3. I think the hit on Rosë did 32 points of damage…ouch!)
Drusilla tried to reach the enemy warrior, but couldn’t move past the sweep of the barbarian’s axe, so she sidestepped, reversed the grip on her dagger and flung it towards the crossbowmen, scoring a minor hit. Rowan and Lew each loosed another missile with no effect. Realizing the futility of further sniping, they readied their weapons and moved into the room, followed closely by Sextus. The crossbowmen on the other side of the doorway fired again, grazing the bard.
Somewhat restored by Sextus, Quintus pulled the table across the pit, turned it on its side to act as a barrier and loaded his crossbow with one of his last “Lathan” bolts. Every fiber in his being urged him to join his companions, but he knew he couldn’t leave the rear unguarded. Below, he could hear the sounds of wood scraping against stone, but couldn’t make anything out from his position.
The badly wounded warrior disengaged from Rosë, stepped back into a corner of the study and quaffed a potion he pulled from his broad belt. His outline shimmered and he disappeared from view. The barbarian, ignoring the gaping wound in his chest, screamed in fury and leaped forward, hacking at the space with his axe. The whistling blade cut naught but air. Drusilla moved up on the Brigante’s flank, swinging her blades in a desperate attempt to find the now invisible foe.
Rowan, Lew and Sextus pushed through the doorway to get at the Shadowblade crossbowmen. The progress was abruptly halted when an armored fighter slammed into Rowan and cut him badly with a spatha blow. The madly cackling figure that had been prancing around behind the archer line weaved his hands together and shouted, “Eyes!”
Rowan saw the crossbowman and shield-and-sword fighter turn their heads slightly, then the area around he and his companions exploded in a dizzying pattern of colors. Green, blue, red and yellow motes swirled about in a scintillating display that beckoned the ranger’s attention. Rowan managed to resist the pull, but he noted – to his great dismay – that both Lew and Sextus immobile, weapons forgotten in their hands, staring slack-jawed at the bright lights.
Laughter tinged with madness rose to an almost girlish pitch, “Leave them…kill the others!”
(DM’s Note: Hypnotic Pattern!)
Quintus’ mind raced furiously. He had seen four men enter the room below and he was certain their prisoners had been released and were now re-armed. He possessed little in the way of offensive capability against so many, particularly in his wounded state. He used a minor spell to summon forth the screams and shouts of dying men and started hurling threats down the stairs, “When we finish with your friends up here, we are coming for you!”
Rosë, who had also shrugged off the effects of the wizard’s magic, pivoted and smashed his axe through the guard of the fighter who was battling Rowan. The man grimaced in pain, but recovered quickly and attacked the ranger again. The enemy crossbowmen, unable to find any targets, discarded their weapons and pulled out gladii, adding to the knot of armed men in the doorway. Drusilla continued to move about the study, feinting and swinging, trying to locate their invisible foe. Rowan thrust at the shield-bearer, wounding him slightly, then felt an icy sting as a thin ray of frost his chest.
The flaming sphere guarding the bottom of the stairwell folded in on itself and winked out of existence. Quintus heard a yell and a trio of Shadowblades charged through the doorway and up the stairs. The sorcerer dropped a Sleep spell in their midst and two of them slumped to the floor at the base of the stairs. The third, a heavily armored warrior, continued to bound up the stairs. Quintus sent a bolt into the man just as he reached the top landing. He had been hoping for a spectacular display of electrical power, but the quarrel only struck a glancing blow, knocking the man to the side and out of his view.
Rowan spared a quick glance towards Rosë. His friend had taken enough damage to kill five normal men and bloody spittle was hanging from his lips, but he continued to battle defiantly. His next axe stroke cut under the rim of the scutum guarding the enemy fighter’s left flank and sheared through the man’s leg, sending him spinning to the floor. A wild-eyed grin of victory was replaced a moment later by a look of profound shock.
Drusilla saw the shimmer, but she was out of position and too far away to do anything but scream soundlessly. She saw the warrior’s form appear as he completed a fluid thrust and buried his weapon in Rosë’s lower back. The Brigante stiffened reflexively, then slid slowly to the floor, as the twin-tined spear was withdrawn, bloody axe falling from nerveless fingers. The slight young woman threw herself at the man, hacking furiously with gladius and pugio and trying to get inside his guard.
Rowan saw Rosë drop out of sight in his peripheral vision and assisted one of the Shadowblades in joining him with a wicked thrust through the gut. He was immensely relieved to see the swirling motes of color slow then fade away and noted that both Sextus and Lew where shaking their heads groggily. Glancing down, he saw that Rosë’s chest was still rising and falling in great, ragged gasps.
(DM’s Note: I made a tactical error here with the Hypnotic Pattern…I didn’t note keeping the pattern active required concentration, so I let the enemy wizard perform another action. As a result, the spell dissipated 2 rounds after he ceased concentrating on it. Just to balance things out, Rowan’s player realized that he had forgotten he had an active Bull’s Strength from the last session…so it all evens out
!)Quintus blindly grabbed another quarrel and slapped it onto his crossbow’s stock and waiting for the man to reappear. To his horror, the other door of the double set opened and the man charged in, shield raised. The sorcerer scrambled back madly, rotating his Shield spell to cover his exposed flank and wildly discharging his weapon. The bolt took the man in the hip, upsetting his balance and aim so that his blade stroke passed just over Quintus’ head.
(DM’s Note: If you will remember, there was a set of double doors at the top of the steps, with the pit trap in front of one. Quintus’ player assumed that the other door was either locked or trapped, so you imagine his surprise when the enemy swordsman simply opened the door and ran in!)
Quintus tried to jump away and felt his back slam into the wall. He desperately called forth mystical bolts and sent two of them slamming into the fighter’s chest. The man swayed and dropped to his knees. His eyes locked on Quintus’ and the sorcerer saw them narrow in anger and hatred. Gritting his teeth, the man lunged forward with what was left of his ebbing strength behind the blow. The tip of the spatha skittered off the stone wall a handsbreadth from Quintus’ midsection as the warrior slowly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The heavily muscled warrior dropped one hand from his spear as Drusilla stepped inside the weapon’s reach and smashed his armored left fist into the side of her head with crushing force, sending her staggering back. Sextus came to his senses and found himself in close proximity to the enemy fighter, he readied his twin gladii and attacked, but the man dodged his blows.
Lew emerged from a haze to find himself with his crossbow in his hands and in the midst of chaos. To his left rear, Sextus and Drusilla were battling the strangely armored warrior. Rosë lay in a pool of widening blood to his front and Rowan, ignoring the two gray cloak swordsmen in the doorway, was dropping to his knees beside the barbarian. Lew dropped a bolt into the arming groove and snapped a shot at one of the Shadowblades, wounding him slightly. Fevered cackling arose from the room beyond as three arcane bolts slashed through the study and slammed into Sextus, drawing a loud cry of pain. The high-pitched voice called out an unintelligible command.
Rowan gritted his teeth against the sword cut that raked across his shoulder as he tried desperately to patch Rosë’s gaping wounds with bandages. He attempted no finesse, choosing instead to stuff every binding cloth he had into the barbarian’s savaged torso. Most of the fabric turned crimson within a grain or two, but the ranger thought that he might of done some good. Mouthing a quick prayer to Corelian, he snatched up his sword and returned to the fray.
(DM’s Note: Rowan won “Roleplayer of the Session” for this selfless action. He braved two AoOs to try and help Rosë and actually succeeded on a high DC Heal check!)
The enemy warrior clapped his off hand back onto his spear, feinted towards Drusilla, spun and smoothly ran Sextus through, before dodging off through the combatants. As the younger Scipio flopped to the floor, Drusilla cut at his back ineffectually and the warrior ran right past Lew who, armed with only a crossbow, could do nothing to impede his escape. He dove just out of reach of Rowan’s blade and tumbled through the doorway to rejoin his companions. As the warrior cleared the portal, the tittering voice shouted arcane words and sticky strands of webbing, like those spun by some monstrous spider, filled the study.
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 15 (Part Four) – Stop That Insane Laughter!
~ Old One
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