Carnifex's Story Hour (Updated January 20th, "The Union")
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Carnifex
First Post
Maldur said:wow, nice.
Great job controling such a big group, in such a chaotic battle. Online even
Envy
thx Carnifex
The times when controlling a group online can get difficult are when everyone bar one or two people have posted, and you either have to wait or go ahead with another post and NPC their actions instead...
Not that I'm not guilty of sometimes not posting as often as I should.
Carnifex
First Post
The three bolts of magical pain seemed somehow appropriate as Ebri reached for her three shuriken. For although conflict was necessary in this case, it was a truth that aggression on one's part was more often the cause of one's own suffering, regardless of what suffering one inflicted upon the enemy. She was certain that, should she ever be worthy of enlightenment, she would instantly become aware of the union of all things, that the boundaries between individuals and things would be shown to be non-existant.
However, as she struggled toward release from the world's illusion, she had to further the cause of her order. This only made sense. Else, the teachings and the Purpose might be extinguished from the world, while, if all its servants worked to further it regardless of their own wishes and efforts... Even should I fall in the attempt, the Purpose will eventually be understood and achieved.
"Your pride will not serve you." she informed the true mage calmly, and followed her shuriken with her fists.
* * *
Finally, Mel was met with satisfaction as her efforts are rewarded with a painfully visible set of dents in the carapace of evil. Slavers--murderers--worshippers of evil gods, beware! Not to mention anyone who touches one hair on the heads of Mel's new friends.
Although she was near to panic on the surface, a peaceful glow seemed to suffuse her inside. Nitwit or not, right now she was doing something good, something right, and even if it spelled her doom the act would stand even as she fell. She felt it inside her, the warm glow, like a golden Mel-shaped statue that would remain with its hands raised in righteous spellcasting even if she lay crumpled in a pool of blue blood at its feet. The more the battle raged the more she glowed. She had never felt a purpose quite this defined. It was comforting, especially with two frantic toad brains screaming in her mind to bury herself in mud until they all went away.
* * *
The chaos of battle whirrled about Kale and his foe, the mercenary able to pull Kaelos off his feet, but too slow to capitalize on his vulnerable position. Making his way deftly to his feet, the swordsman burned with rage as Kale looked on. The scrape of blade on chain punctuated an already desperate battle, as sounds still came from up above, Wolf still lay on the ground, and the lizard things continued their merciless pounding.
Balanced on the balls of his feet, Kale felt cool pins and needles, even above the searing skin-burns. The situation was desperate; something drastic would have to turn the tide of the battle.
Singed hands gripped tightly about his weapons, Kale was frustrated as he planned his retreat... again. Anxiety welled up as he dodged yet another expert strike. About the room, all his companions were bloodied. This task was too much for Wolf, too much for Kale... and the entire team was just steps from folding and being overrun.
Swallowing his pride, the young mercenary knew what he had to do. Ultimately, the team's fate would rest in the hands of the one Kale trusted the least. Wheeling about and rolling over a short crate, Kale slipped out of engagement with Kaelos, running as he could to where the rest of his bloody crew made their stand. Dropping his flail in favor of a carefully wrapped item, he slid himself between Cord and Sebastion, forming what defensive wall he could.
His attention, however, was not on the two hulking reptiles. His eyes were on one death mage- Burl, the naive and hunted man whose inquiries into the dark arts put Kale on guard. Burl, of unknown fate, and of innocent or ignorant association with something much bigger than those bleeding in the cave. Burl the dark. Burl the hunted. Burl, their only hope.
The mage had risked his life for theirs before... that was the only consolation to Kale as he extended in his blistered hand the one thing that would make the necromancer so much more powerful than any of his companions.
"Line 'em up and take 'em out," Kale barked in a tone that reserved any questions the mage might have, for later. Placing the Wolf Master's Lightning Wand in Burl's right hand, Kale turned to fend off his deadly enemies.
Looking at the wand, it took Burl only a moment to realize that the he had been handed the wand that had been removed from the leader of the werewolf faction, a wand that had spewed out lightning bolts.
Burl knew how to operate wands, but he was unsure as to what effect he would have having never operated this one. Not only that, but he was unfamiliar with the magic that was contained within. He did know that lightning did usually follow a straight line and could jump from one target to another, but sometimes it also struck and moved from the target to the next closest target. Using this weapon in close combat could be dangerous, but since Kale had given it to him and told him to use it, then he must feel it was safe to do so.
Burl looked over the situation in front of him. Moving a bit to his right he tried to line up the wand so as to possibly strike both dragonkin. From this position, he thought that he might be able to do so without endangering Sebastion or Cord, that is if the bolt traveled in a straight line.
Burl levelled the wand at his target; the two hulking dragonkin. The spell trigger activated, the entire wand pulsing into bright blue luminescence as inside it eldritch powers converged and magnified.
With a clap of thunder an arc of lightning lashed out to scourge and crackle over the foe for a fraction of a moment, leaving its outline etched into everyones vision. The reptilian warriors had fast reflexes for their size but werent' fast enough; caught off-guard by the magical strike, they suffered badly. One of the burly creatures toppled, a smoking carcass badly burned by the electricity, collapsing into a blackened and smoking heap. The other screamed in pain and rage at the burns across its skin, juddering and frothing as the last vestiges of energy crackled visibly across its skin.
Within his chamber, Cancer flinched at the sound of the lightning blast, most of the outside room hidden from his view. He sneered at Ebri's words, spitting at her. "You think you can take me, wench?" He followed his question with a slightly hysterical cackle as more arcane syllables spilled from his mouth, and fiery energy coalesced from mid-air to form around one of his hands in a great claw of flame that flickered and crackled greedily, slashing at the monk with the fiery appendage. Ebri easily dodged the swipe but could feel from its proximity the great heat it was emitting; if she was struck by it the incandescent claw would burn her badly indeed.
Blue energy flew from the hands of Melisande once again, slamming into the still-reeling warrior recovering from Burl's lightning bolt. It staggered as the bolts tore gory craters out of its flank, but the bloodied and burned beast still refused to topple where any normal man would have been long dead.
Instead it went berserk.
It's roars of pain turned into roars of anger as blood began to trickle from its mouth, stubbornly refusing to flee or die and instead hamemring at the nearest enemy it could see with its heavy mace, hitting Sebastion with a crunch and dropping the warrior with a spray of gore as his chest caved in. Screaming in berserk fury it stepped over the body and moved to hack down Cord; but the battered monk managed to dodge aside, pushing the swipe away from him as the dragonkin staggered from the impetus of its own assault.
Wolf poured the healing potion down his own throat; strangely it seemed to elicit new groans of agony but he managed to get himself to his feet and numbly pick up his sword from nearby.
Ebri struck out with a blow designed to stun her opponent for a moment, but as she punched at the mage he managed to dodge aside without much effort from the strike, her own attacks hampered by this opponents fiery fearsome claw which she couldn't afford to touch.
Kaelos came charging over to fight alongside the towering dragonkin, furiously hacking at Cord, by again the elderly monk managed to step aside from the new assault without too much effort. In response the monk was unable to get in a good strike, forced onto the defensive by both enemies.
Then Wyshira wove her magic and moisture in the air around her crystallised into solid form,. sent slashing through the air like tiny knives by the divine magic; the dragonkin staggered under this new barrage, tottered, and fell for good with dozens of small slashes torn into it. Kaelos managed to avoid the worst of the knife spray but was injured too, and looked to be near the end of his fighting capabilities.
However, as she struggled toward release from the world's illusion, she had to further the cause of her order. This only made sense. Else, the teachings and the Purpose might be extinguished from the world, while, if all its servants worked to further it regardless of their own wishes and efforts... Even should I fall in the attempt, the Purpose will eventually be understood and achieved.
"Your pride will not serve you." she informed the true mage calmly, and followed her shuriken with her fists.
* * *
Finally, Mel was met with satisfaction as her efforts are rewarded with a painfully visible set of dents in the carapace of evil. Slavers--murderers--worshippers of evil gods, beware! Not to mention anyone who touches one hair on the heads of Mel's new friends.
Although she was near to panic on the surface, a peaceful glow seemed to suffuse her inside. Nitwit or not, right now she was doing something good, something right, and even if it spelled her doom the act would stand even as she fell. She felt it inside her, the warm glow, like a golden Mel-shaped statue that would remain with its hands raised in righteous spellcasting even if she lay crumpled in a pool of blue blood at its feet. The more the battle raged the more she glowed. She had never felt a purpose quite this defined. It was comforting, especially with two frantic toad brains screaming in her mind to bury herself in mud until they all went away.
* * *
The chaos of battle whirrled about Kale and his foe, the mercenary able to pull Kaelos off his feet, but too slow to capitalize on his vulnerable position. Making his way deftly to his feet, the swordsman burned with rage as Kale looked on. The scrape of blade on chain punctuated an already desperate battle, as sounds still came from up above, Wolf still lay on the ground, and the lizard things continued their merciless pounding.
Balanced on the balls of his feet, Kale felt cool pins and needles, even above the searing skin-burns. The situation was desperate; something drastic would have to turn the tide of the battle.
Singed hands gripped tightly about his weapons, Kale was frustrated as he planned his retreat... again. Anxiety welled up as he dodged yet another expert strike. About the room, all his companions were bloodied. This task was too much for Wolf, too much for Kale... and the entire team was just steps from folding and being overrun.
Swallowing his pride, the young mercenary knew what he had to do. Ultimately, the team's fate would rest in the hands of the one Kale trusted the least. Wheeling about and rolling over a short crate, Kale slipped out of engagement with Kaelos, running as he could to where the rest of his bloody crew made their stand. Dropping his flail in favor of a carefully wrapped item, he slid himself between Cord and Sebastion, forming what defensive wall he could.
His attention, however, was not on the two hulking reptiles. His eyes were on one death mage- Burl, the naive and hunted man whose inquiries into the dark arts put Kale on guard. Burl, of unknown fate, and of innocent or ignorant association with something much bigger than those bleeding in the cave. Burl the dark. Burl the hunted. Burl, their only hope.
The mage had risked his life for theirs before... that was the only consolation to Kale as he extended in his blistered hand the one thing that would make the necromancer so much more powerful than any of his companions.
"Line 'em up and take 'em out," Kale barked in a tone that reserved any questions the mage might have, for later. Placing the Wolf Master's Lightning Wand in Burl's right hand, Kale turned to fend off his deadly enemies.
Looking at the wand, it took Burl only a moment to realize that the he had been handed the wand that had been removed from the leader of the werewolf faction, a wand that had spewed out lightning bolts.
Burl knew how to operate wands, but he was unsure as to what effect he would have having never operated this one. Not only that, but he was unfamiliar with the magic that was contained within. He did know that lightning did usually follow a straight line and could jump from one target to another, but sometimes it also struck and moved from the target to the next closest target. Using this weapon in close combat could be dangerous, but since Kale had given it to him and told him to use it, then he must feel it was safe to do so.
Burl looked over the situation in front of him. Moving a bit to his right he tried to line up the wand so as to possibly strike both dragonkin. From this position, he thought that he might be able to do so without endangering Sebastion or Cord, that is if the bolt traveled in a straight line.
Burl levelled the wand at his target; the two hulking dragonkin. The spell trigger activated, the entire wand pulsing into bright blue luminescence as inside it eldritch powers converged and magnified.
With a clap of thunder an arc of lightning lashed out to scourge and crackle over the foe for a fraction of a moment, leaving its outline etched into everyones vision. The reptilian warriors had fast reflexes for their size but werent' fast enough; caught off-guard by the magical strike, they suffered badly. One of the burly creatures toppled, a smoking carcass badly burned by the electricity, collapsing into a blackened and smoking heap. The other screamed in pain and rage at the burns across its skin, juddering and frothing as the last vestiges of energy crackled visibly across its skin.
Within his chamber, Cancer flinched at the sound of the lightning blast, most of the outside room hidden from his view. He sneered at Ebri's words, spitting at her. "You think you can take me, wench?" He followed his question with a slightly hysterical cackle as more arcane syllables spilled from his mouth, and fiery energy coalesced from mid-air to form around one of his hands in a great claw of flame that flickered and crackled greedily, slashing at the monk with the fiery appendage. Ebri easily dodged the swipe but could feel from its proximity the great heat it was emitting; if she was struck by it the incandescent claw would burn her badly indeed.
Blue energy flew from the hands of Melisande once again, slamming into the still-reeling warrior recovering from Burl's lightning bolt. It staggered as the bolts tore gory craters out of its flank, but the bloodied and burned beast still refused to topple where any normal man would have been long dead.
Instead it went berserk.
It's roars of pain turned into roars of anger as blood began to trickle from its mouth, stubbornly refusing to flee or die and instead hamemring at the nearest enemy it could see with its heavy mace, hitting Sebastion with a crunch and dropping the warrior with a spray of gore as his chest caved in. Screaming in berserk fury it stepped over the body and moved to hack down Cord; but the battered monk managed to dodge aside, pushing the swipe away from him as the dragonkin staggered from the impetus of its own assault.
Wolf poured the healing potion down his own throat; strangely it seemed to elicit new groans of agony but he managed to get himself to his feet and numbly pick up his sword from nearby.
Ebri struck out with a blow designed to stun her opponent for a moment, but as she punched at the mage he managed to dodge aside without much effort from the strike, her own attacks hampered by this opponents fiery fearsome claw which she couldn't afford to touch.
Kaelos came charging over to fight alongside the towering dragonkin, furiously hacking at Cord, by again the elderly monk managed to step aside from the new assault without too much effort. In response the monk was unable to get in a good strike, forced onto the defensive by both enemies.
Then Wyshira wove her magic and moisture in the air around her crystallised into solid form,. sent slashing through the air like tiny knives by the divine magic; the dragonkin staggered under this new barrage, tottered, and fell for good with dozens of small slashes torn into it. Kaelos managed to avoid the worst of the knife spray but was injured too, and looked to be near the end of his fighting capabilities.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Go Team Go!
Carnifex
First Post
I have to say, I thinl that the round of combat I just posted up was probably the turning point in the battle.
The party could deal with the cultists and the monk, even the wizard and his conjurations. What really causde them the trouble was the dragonkin. For CR 3 creatures, these critters are very hard - high hit points and AC makes them hard to fell, and high attack bonus and strength means two punishing strikes per round from each dragonkin. The party was already battered enough that if it hadn't been for the lightning wand they would have suffered far worse, and possibly lost the battle.
Of course, things could have been even *worse* if Kale had been captured during his earlier run-in with Cancer and the alienist had gotten hold of the wand of lightning bolt for himself
So far this battle there have been another two enw spells used; firstly baatezu barb blast and then elemental claw. I'll post both of these on the SH at some point soon
The party could deal with the cultists and the monk, even the wizard and his conjurations. What really causde them the trouble was the dragonkin. For CR 3 creatures, these critters are very hard - high hit points and AC makes them hard to fell, and high attack bonus and strength means two punishing strikes per round from each dragonkin. The party was already battered enough that if it hadn't been for the lightning wand they would have suffered far worse, and possibly lost the battle.
Of course, things could have been even *worse* if Kale had been captured during his earlier run-in with Cancer and the alienist had gotten hold of the wand of lightning bolt for himself
So far this battle there have been another two enw spells used; firstly baatezu barb blast and then elemental claw. I'll post both of these on the SH at some point soon
Carnifex
First Post
“WOW!” , was all a startled Burl could utter as the electrical energy erupted from the wand, jolting his hand upward and sending him back a step as he was totally unprepared for what had happened
Melisande thought the thing was going down when just after Burl's thunderous strike with a lightning bolt her energy waves grounded in its scaly hide. It staggered, blood dripping from its crocodilian jaw and the blank look of death glazing its yellow eyes--but only for a moment. She was getting ready to cheer, aware that Wolf was moving, restored by Wyshira's divine intervention, when the dragon-thing came out of its stagger coiled like a spring and screaming brought around a mace so fast it whistled.
Her knees went weak. There were horrible sights and sounds in a Manipulation lab, but nothing quite like the thick crunch of the mace as it crumpled Sebastion like one of the straw-stuffed effigies they beat and burned on certain holidays in Carthagia. Dizzily she recovered her spear and used it to lean on for a second while clearing the spots from her vision.
Gods in the heavens. She tottered forth, seeing Wyshira move in but not at all feeling sure the priestess was going to be able to help. She found herself nearly as devastated as Sebastion looked. Why did it feel like her chest had been gouged out with a blunt weapon? Brilliant red blood had splattered the whole room, she saw as she approached, trembling and pale as a winter dawn.
A hired blade--Why not?--Isn't this what he expected?--Wars and warriors always end like this. Don't they.
There were still sounds of fighting somewhere--and a rubbery multi-eyed menace flopping about in the cavern where she had left it--but Mel dropped to her knees, patting her pockets absently for a vial of healing potion part of her brain was not sure she still had. She tried to say something to Wyshira. Her larynx failed.
* * *
You think you can take me, wench?
Ebri could hear that the tide of the battle was turning, but she could not afford to split her focus; she could not turn and look.
As the fire seared past her, an odd temptation hovered on the edge of her thoughts. It would be unworthy. A distraction. Focus.
She was a priestess, but of no conventional kind. Useless superstition; her faith required self discipline and confidence, faith that her training had been sufficient, not suppliant whining to idols. To pray now would be folly. See the enemy. Direct your attention there. Prayer is the comfort of the weakminded and hopeless.
"Yes." she replied simply, and lashed out again with her fist.
* * *
Wyshira ran back to Sebastian, afraid of what she'd find when she got there. The monster had dealt the mercenary a devastating blow with its mace, and she feared that he would be beyond her aid. But like Wolf only moments before, Sebastian clung tenaciously to life. His breathing was ragged and shallow, and his blood was flowing freely, but he he was still alive. Amazing that air can even reach his lungs with that wound! the priestess thought briefly, then began another spell.
* * *
With the wooden platform and stairs now merely charred embers in a heap below the doorway, which was set seven feet up from the floor, Burl could tell that it wasn't going to be easy for him to just clamber up there. At the moment he couldn't even see the conflict within, but that was easily solved by climbing on top of one of the few tables that remained intact after the devastating melee that had wrecked most of the room. Within he could see the gaunt merchant-mage, clad in his rich clothes, one hand shrouded in a claw of billowing flame that cast strange flickering shadows around the small chamber that was otherwise merely lit by a single lamp; Ebri darting through those same shadows as if she was herself one, dodging and gracefully weaving around to avoid being immolated by the vicious spellcaster. It would be difficult to place a conventional missile into that shadowy combat without fear of hitting his ally - but Burl had magic at his disposal.
Ebri heard the magical crackle as bolts of energy coalesced from Burl's hands and launched out to zip past her, unerringly arcing towards Cancer at an incredible speed through the flowing melee to smash into the wizard with flashes of electrical discharge, sending him staggering and unbalanced.
Out in the main chamber, it was quickly over for Kaelos; for while the swordsman menaced Cord, Kale drove his blade into the cultist's back and with a hiss of acid the warrior finally crumpled, well and truly dead.
Despite the magical assault, Cancer was still fully capable of putting up a good fight, and drew from his belt with his free hand a scroll, a parchment delicately inked with fine calligraphy in arcane symbols. With a few words he invoked its power, magical energy coalescing behind Ebri into a hulking beast of skinless muscle, a broad-shouldered monstrosity from which fangs and bone spikes extruded at random angles, mouths scattered over it quietly whispering in unison on some foul, alien tongue. Now Burl's path of vision into the chamber was entirely blocked by the beast; and Ebri's escape route too. With an almighty crunch the monstrosity unleashed itself on the monk, great bladed talons rending into her and foul teeth finding a purchase on her flesh. Blood flowed freely as she was tossed aside like a ragdoll to slide down the wall, smearing it with her blood. Merciful unconcious had already claimed her.
Cancer laughed hysterically at the carnage, almost clapping his hands in delight before remembering that one of them was sheathed in flame, and in some dark and foreboding tongue spoke to his conjuration. The seven-foot tall muscle-beast turned to look down on the room below, its sinister whispering increasing in intensity as it surveyed for another target.
Without another thought, Burl took aim with the wand and this time prepared for what would happen, launched a bolt of lightning at the summoned monstrosity.
Melisande, trembling in shock, was the first to Sebastion's side. He was alive at least, blood-spattered but alive, though his breathing was so faint she could barely hear it. She found her potion of healing, pouring it down the warriors throat, and was rewarded with the sight of the blood flow stopping, gore coagulating round his wounds and a little strength returning to his breath. Looking close it seemed the damage wasn't too bad, the mace having pulverised the muscle and flesh of his chest but the bones not too badly damaged - she couldn't see any of the signs indicating one of his ribs might have punctured his lungs.
Wolf began to make his slow and painful way towards the door and the summoned abomination that stood within it, standing in a wary stance with blade ready should the creature rush for him. Nearby, Wyshira hurried to the side of Sebastion to kneel by Melisande, healing magic pouring from her hands to seal injuries more fully and numb the pain with cool relief. The surge of energy brought Sebastion back to conciousness as if he was surfacing from a deep mountain lake, shocking him into alertness with the pain that remained and the damp cold of the chamber.
He lurched up, eyes flying wide, gasping for breath as the jolting surge ran through him. For a brief moment he felt like a drowning man bursting through the ice of a stream, dragging in air as though it might be his last chance.
"I was dead..." he mumbled, scrabbling aimlessly on the floor for his blade. "Dead.."
His hand clamped, finally, about the handle in the centre of his weapon, and he clutched it to him, a death-like grip on the leather bindings.
"...dead...dead... I was dead..." he mumbled for a moment, before looking up at the two women who had healed him. He could feel the darkness wrapping him tightly, cold and warm at once, smothering and freeing, crushing his body but stealing his mind away into the bright darkness...
"I was dead... how... what...dead..." he continued to mutter, lost in the sensations and confusion.
Wyshira was fully focused on the spell that would save Sebastian, and only dimly aware of Melisande's presence, there on her knees across from her. But then the mercenary coughed and gasped his way back into consciousness, and the priestess could take the time to notice the shock and the dread in the other young woman's eyes. The expression on Melisande's face spoke volumes.
But before Wyshira could offer a word of comfort, Mel was on her feet again, cheeks flushed with - what? embarassment? - and was levelling some kind of rod at another monstrosity framed in the upstairs doorway.
Meanwhile, Sebastian flailed about and muttered inchoherently about death, and Wyshira tried to soothe his jangled senses. "Shh now. You're all right. You weren't dead. Not... quite."
His eyes were wide in his pale, drained face as he stared at her. She wondered how she must look to him; her hands, arms, tunic, all smeared with blood and gore. "Don't move. Just rest a moment," she went on calmly, reaching for a couple of vials of healing waters from her pack - but not for Sebastian's use.
"Cord, I need you," she called, looking up. The dwarf was standing guard nearby. Even with most of her attention focused elsewhere Wyshira had known that he was nearly done in. She winced in sympathy at his obvious pain and weariness.
She stood up and reached for his gnarled but steady hand, and squeezed it lightly before cupping his fingers around the two vials. "Drink these," she said, then proceeded to describe what she could of the battle going on around them, while also trying to count heads and see for herself who was where.
What in the world did we get ourselves into? Kale wondered as he turned once again to face whatever horrid beast Cancer had brought up from the depths. Why should anyone want to bring others into such terrible business? Too late for all of that. Wyshira was already at work on Sebastion, and Melisande seemed to be regaining her composure. She'll be clear-headed just in time to experience her own death he thought pessimistically, but "You might want to use that" was all he said. Point with Mel's spear briefly as he turned, the mercenary indicated the sorceress' curious fire rod.
Mel smiled coldly as she drew the Fire-Serpent Rod from her pocket. She remembered the hellish, flaming snake from the kobold caverns with a mixture of fear and satisfaction. It's working for the good guys now, she thought, leveling the twisted wooden wand at the creature in the doorframe above and crying in a steady, clear voice, "Agemon!"
Tongues of lightning flared out of Burl's wand again to lash out and scourge the skinless abomination standing in the high doorway, scattering droplets of boiling gore around it as it burned and twisted, great strips of muscle blackening and wihtering. Still it stood, severly injured but obviously at least a little resistant to the electrical energy that had struck it, and still capable of rending a mere human apart with its mighty talons.
And now Kale sought to attract the attention of this mighty monster, swearing and gesturing coarsely at it, attempting to draw its ire upon himself; and its smoking features turned to glare at the man; he felt a nauseous quake of fear at the things unyielding gaze, a similar fear to what eh had felt at teh alien beasts already summoned by the crazed wizard. Dropping agilely down to the floor of the chamber, it charged with alarming speed and silence at the rogue, merely faint footfalls and malicious alien whispering marking its passage as it bore down on him. He thrust out as it closed, pulling the table across for cover, but what should have been a solid and damaging strike barely injured the monstrosity as it loomed over him, even with all its weight behind it; apparently it had some horrific resilience against such mundane weapons. Fortunately his improvised shield-table caught the first claw-swipe but the beast, now in close quarters, prepared to deliver more, and it didn't look like the table would resist all that much battering.
Behind it, in the open doorway, Cancer appeared, another incantation on his lips and one hand still shrouded in flame. Dark energy cracklde as he pointed a finger at Burl, and then the necromancer felt agony slashing up and down his nerves, pure pain pouring into his body for a few moments of a crippling intensity.
Then Melisande's fire rod shimmered with heat, warming her hand as it conjured into existence the fiery snake bound to it; the lava-fanged serpent struck out viciously at the monster, its bite burning new gouges down the fleshy muscle of the horror.
Seeing the summoned beast attacking Kale, Wolf closed as rapidly as he could with his pained hobble, bastard sword flickering in the light as he hacked at it but with little effect and only minor injury to the monster. Cord was able to drink down the two potions proferred by Wyshira, healing magic flooding his system and healing up some of the injuries he had suffered, though still leaving him badly wounded.
Melisande thought the thing was going down when just after Burl's thunderous strike with a lightning bolt her energy waves grounded in its scaly hide. It staggered, blood dripping from its crocodilian jaw and the blank look of death glazing its yellow eyes--but only for a moment. She was getting ready to cheer, aware that Wolf was moving, restored by Wyshira's divine intervention, when the dragon-thing came out of its stagger coiled like a spring and screaming brought around a mace so fast it whistled.
Her knees went weak. There were horrible sights and sounds in a Manipulation lab, but nothing quite like the thick crunch of the mace as it crumpled Sebastion like one of the straw-stuffed effigies they beat and burned on certain holidays in Carthagia. Dizzily she recovered her spear and used it to lean on for a second while clearing the spots from her vision.
Gods in the heavens. She tottered forth, seeing Wyshira move in but not at all feeling sure the priestess was going to be able to help. She found herself nearly as devastated as Sebastion looked. Why did it feel like her chest had been gouged out with a blunt weapon? Brilliant red blood had splattered the whole room, she saw as she approached, trembling and pale as a winter dawn.
A hired blade--Why not?--Isn't this what he expected?--Wars and warriors always end like this. Don't they.
There were still sounds of fighting somewhere--and a rubbery multi-eyed menace flopping about in the cavern where she had left it--but Mel dropped to her knees, patting her pockets absently for a vial of healing potion part of her brain was not sure she still had. She tried to say something to Wyshira. Her larynx failed.
* * *
You think you can take me, wench?
Ebri could hear that the tide of the battle was turning, but she could not afford to split her focus; she could not turn and look.
As the fire seared past her, an odd temptation hovered on the edge of her thoughts. It would be unworthy. A distraction. Focus.
She was a priestess, but of no conventional kind. Useless superstition; her faith required self discipline and confidence, faith that her training had been sufficient, not suppliant whining to idols. To pray now would be folly. See the enemy. Direct your attention there. Prayer is the comfort of the weakminded and hopeless.
"Yes." she replied simply, and lashed out again with her fist.
* * *
Wyshira ran back to Sebastian, afraid of what she'd find when she got there. The monster had dealt the mercenary a devastating blow with its mace, and she feared that he would be beyond her aid. But like Wolf only moments before, Sebastian clung tenaciously to life. His breathing was ragged and shallow, and his blood was flowing freely, but he he was still alive. Amazing that air can even reach his lungs with that wound! the priestess thought briefly, then began another spell.
* * *
With the wooden platform and stairs now merely charred embers in a heap below the doorway, which was set seven feet up from the floor, Burl could tell that it wasn't going to be easy for him to just clamber up there. At the moment he couldn't even see the conflict within, but that was easily solved by climbing on top of one of the few tables that remained intact after the devastating melee that had wrecked most of the room. Within he could see the gaunt merchant-mage, clad in his rich clothes, one hand shrouded in a claw of billowing flame that cast strange flickering shadows around the small chamber that was otherwise merely lit by a single lamp; Ebri darting through those same shadows as if she was herself one, dodging and gracefully weaving around to avoid being immolated by the vicious spellcaster. It would be difficult to place a conventional missile into that shadowy combat without fear of hitting his ally - but Burl had magic at his disposal.
Ebri heard the magical crackle as bolts of energy coalesced from Burl's hands and launched out to zip past her, unerringly arcing towards Cancer at an incredible speed through the flowing melee to smash into the wizard with flashes of electrical discharge, sending him staggering and unbalanced.
Out in the main chamber, it was quickly over for Kaelos; for while the swordsman menaced Cord, Kale drove his blade into the cultist's back and with a hiss of acid the warrior finally crumpled, well and truly dead.
Despite the magical assault, Cancer was still fully capable of putting up a good fight, and drew from his belt with his free hand a scroll, a parchment delicately inked with fine calligraphy in arcane symbols. With a few words he invoked its power, magical energy coalescing behind Ebri into a hulking beast of skinless muscle, a broad-shouldered monstrosity from which fangs and bone spikes extruded at random angles, mouths scattered over it quietly whispering in unison on some foul, alien tongue. Now Burl's path of vision into the chamber was entirely blocked by the beast; and Ebri's escape route too. With an almighty crunch the monstrosity unleashed itself on the monk, great bladed talons rending into her and foul teeth finding a purchase on her flesh. Blood flowed freely as she was tossed aside like a ragdoll to slide down the wall, smearing it with her blood. Merciful unconcious had already claimed her.
Cancer laughed hysterically at the carnage, almost clapping his hands in delight before remembering that one of them was sheathed in flame, and in some dark and foreboding tongue spoke to his conjuration. The seven-foot tall muscle-beast turned to look down on the room below, its sinister whispering increasing in intensity as it surveyed for another target.
Without another thought, Burl took aim with the wand and this time prepared for what would happen, launched a bolt of lightning at the summoned monstrosity.
Melisande, trembling in shock, was the first to Sebastion's side. He was alive at least, blood-spattered but alive, though his breathing was so faint she could barely hear it. She found her potion of healing, pouring it down the warriors throat, and was rewarded with the sight of the blood flow stopping, gore coagulating round his wounds and a little strength returning to his breath. Looking close it seemed the damage wasn't too bad, the mace having pulverised the muscle and flesh of his chest but the bones not too badly damaged - she couldn't see any of the signs indicating one of his ribs might have punctured his lungs.
Wolf began to make his slow and painful way towards the door and the summoned abomination that stood within it, standing in a wary stance with blade ready should the creature rush for him. Nearby, Wyshira hurried to the side of Sebastion to kneel by Melisande, healing magic pouring from her hands to seal injuries more fully and numb the pain with cool relief. The surge of energy brought Sebastion back to conciousness as if he was surfacing from a deep mountain lake, shocking him into alertness with the pain that remained and the damp cold of the chamber.
He lurched up, eyes flying wide, gasping for breath as the jolting surge ran through him. For a brief moment he felt like a drowning man bursting through the ice of a stream, dragging in air as though it might be his last chance.
"I was dead..." he mumbled, scrabbling aimlessly on the floor for his blade. "Dead.."
His hand clamped, finally, about the handle in the centre of his weapon, and he clutched it to him, a death-like grip on the leather bindings.
"...dead...dead... I was dead..." he mumbled for a moment, before looking up at the two women who had healed him. He could feel the darkness wrapping him tightly, cold and warm at once, smothering and freeing, crushing his body but stealing his mind away into the bright darkness...
"I was dead... how... what...dead..." he continued to mutter, lost in the sensations and confusion.
Wyshira was fully focused on the spell that would save Sebastian, and only dimly aware of Melisande's presence, there on her knees across from her. But then the mercenary coughed and gasped his way back into consciousness, and the priestess could take the time to notice the shock and the dread in the other young woman's eyes. The expression on Melisande's face spoke volumes.
But before Wyshira could offer a word of comfort, Mel was on her feet again, cheeks flushed with - what? embarassment? - and was levelling some kind of rod at another monstrosity framed in the upstairs doorway.
Meanwhile, Sebastian flailed about and muttered inchoherently about death, and Wyshira tried to soothe his jangled senses. "Shh now. You're all right. You weren't dead. Not... quite."
His eyes were wide in his pale, drained face as he stared at her. She wondered how she must look to him; her hands, arms, tunic, all smeared with blood and gore. "Don't move. Just rest a moment," she went on calmly, reaching for a couple of vials of healing waters from her pack - but not for Sebastian's use.
"Cord, I need you," she called, looking up. The dwarf was standing guard nearby. Even with most of her attention focused elsewhere Wyshira had known that he was nearly done in. She winced in sympathy at his obvious pain and weariness.
She stood up and reached for his gnarled but steady hand, and squeezed it lightly before cupping his fingers around the two vials. "Drink these," she said, then proceeded to describe what she could of the battle going on around them, while also trying to count heads and see for herself who was where.
What in the world did we get ourselves into? Kale wondered as he turned once again to face whatever horrid beast Cancer had brought up from the depths. Why should anyone want to bring others into such terrible business? Too late for all of that. Wyshira was already at work on Sebastion, and Melisande seemed to be regaining her composure. She'll be clear-headed just in time to experience her own death he thought pessimistically, but "You might want to use that" was all he said. Point with Mel's spear briefly as he turned, the mercenary indicated the sorceress' curious fire rod.
Mel smiled coldly as she drew the Fire-Serpent Rod from her pocket. She remembered the hellish, flaming snake from the kobold caverns with a mixture of fear and satisfaction. It's working for the good guys now, she thought, leveling the twisted wooden wand at the creature in the doorframe above and crying in a steady, clear voice, "Agemon!"
Tongues of lightning flared out of Burl's wand again to lash out and scourge the skinless abomination standing in the high doorway, scattering droplets of boiling gore around it as it burned and twisted, great strips of muscle blackening and wihtering. Still it stood, severly injured but obviously at least a little resistant to the electrical energy that had struck it, and still capable of rending a mere human apart with its mighty talons.
And now Kale sought to attract the attention of this mighty monster, swearing and gesturing coarsely at it, attempting to draw its ire upon himself; and its smoking features turned to glare at the man; he felt a nauseous quake of fear at the things unyielding gaze, a similar fear to what eh had felt at teh alien beasts already summoned by the crazed wizard. Dropping agilely down to the floor of the chamber, it charged with alarming speed and silence at the rogue, merely faint footfalls and malicious alien whispering marking its passage as it bore down on him. He thrust out as it closed, pulling the table across for cover, but what should have been a solid and damaging strike barely injured the monstrosity as it loomed over him, even with all its weight behind it; apparently it had some horrific resilience against such mundane weapons. Fortunately his improvised shield-table caught the first claw-swipe but the beast, now in close quarters, prepared to deliver more, and it didn't look like the table would resist all that much battering.
Behind it, in the open doorway, Cancer appeared, another incantation on his lips and one hand still shrouded in flame. Dark energy cracklde as he pointed a finger at Burl, and then the necromancer felt agony slashing up and down his nerves, pure pain pouring into his body for a few moments of a crippling intensity.
Then Melisande's fire rod shimmered with heat, warming her hand as it conjured into existence the fiery snake bound to it; the lava-fanged serpent struck out viciously at the monster, its bite burning new gouges down the fleshy muscle of the horror.
Seeing the summoned beast attacking Kale, Wolf closed as rapidly as he could with his pained hobble, bastard sword flickering in the light as he hacked at it but with little effect and only minor injury to the monster. Cord was able to drink down the two potions proferred by Wyshira, healing magic flooding his system and healing up some of the injuries he had suffered, though still leaving him badly wounded.
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