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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 343325" data-attributes="member: 227">The blast slammed towards Kale, angled slightly upwards; but Kale was not encumbered by full plate, and was agile and dextrous enough to hurl himself out of the way. The militiaman behind him was not so lucky and died screaming as his clothes ignited. "Attack," the master said in an almost bored tone, and the werewolves charged towards the temple, these one bigger and stronger than the last wave, reaching for the straps that tied the children to them; the babies had protected them from missile fire, and would get them into melee, but once there a squealing infant would merely weigh them down in close quarters fighting. DM Note: One thing I made sure to do at this point in the game, seeing the argument breaking out about how to fight the werewolves - whether it was worth sacrificing the lives of the children in order to defeat the foe - was to say that the words I put in the mouthes of NPC's are not my personal opinions in what they should do or plan in any situation, they are just what the NPC thinks. I am impartial. I also reminded them that inter-character conflict is just between the characters and not the players. I felt it necessary to do this because of such a tender subject as this situation had brought up - the barbaricism of the werewolves - , and I'm pleased to say that my players proved to be mature and excellent roleplayers indeed.Cord readied himself for the onslaught, releasing Burl's hand gently. The single word of Attack dripped with tangible malice and he instinctively knew that this second wave would test their reserves. Dropping smoothly into his defensive stance, Cord prepared himself for the first of the werewolves. He filtered out the distracting cries of babies as he felt the floor rumble with the creatures' approach. The so-called Master was their true foe, Cord knew, yet he had no chance to fight the man alone. "Aim for the leader," Cord said to Burl, "and I will guard you. Use your vials of fire or your magic, but do not toss either blindly. He must be our target. Together, and with help, we may be able to end this." Burl was still angry that Cord had stopped him from throwing the firebombs; they were probably the best weapons available to them, but they could only be used when the wolfmen were outside the temple. Now that chance was rapidly disappearing, and the necromancer instead agreed to focus his attacks on the master.What does he mean? The Master is the werewolf leader most likely, but what sort of power does the creature wield? Thoughts were racing through Wyshira's mind as the Inquisitor pushed her healing hands away, and a new wave of assault prepared to break upon the beleagered Temple. "What can I do?" she whispered softly, unaware almost that she spoke aloud. She still felt woefully unprepared to meet such evil. She stood slowly and walked nearer to the door, peering out over the shoulders of the militia men into the darkness outside as she did so. She could not yet glimpse the Master, although she was beginning to feel the unholy dread of his approach. The wailing of babies drew her attention to the lead werewolves, and tears started in her eyes as she finally realized what it was that held back the archers from firing; none dared shoot for fear of taking an innocent life, except for Kale whose aim and skill were greater. The first attack had seemed mindless, but this new assault was cold and calculating. Again she wondered about the power of the Master.While many of those inside were uncertain of what to do, it seemed that Burl was not; he suddenly rushed past the priestess and sent two vials of alchemist's fire hurtling into the midst of the werewolves. Wyshira wished that she could be as certain as he was of what course of action to take. A thought began to take shape in her mind however. "Latorath was right." She said the words out loud, but it was not clear to whom she spoke; Burl had returned to stand next to her again, and the blind dwarf Cord was also near. "We have to focus on the Master. Can we reach him? Distract him?" Without waiting for a response from either of her companions, Wyshira began to look for a way to get outside without drawing too much attention. Cord nodded. "Yes, I believe we might. I can approach from one side, and possibly you from the other, with Burl relying on his magic. Shall we try?" Stepping into the night air, Cord inhaled the faintest scent of dew, almost indiscernible among the overwhelming smell of carnage and death. The man wielding evil like a weapon drew Cord nearer like a lodestone to iron. His senses reeled from the emanating corruption, but he forced himself to continue, dodging the attacking army of werewolves when he could. He approached cautiously, grasping the silver dagger in one hand. Grumand, he prayed, May my perceived weakness grant me the advantage. Cord was nearly upon him. Burl couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. First he had wanted to go out after the werewolves and look for Kale, but was told that it would get them all killed, yet here was Cord planning on charging out into the midst of the creatures to try to attack the master. He just couldn’t understand the difference between what he had suggested and what the others were saying or doing. Shaking it off, Burl, if he was to die here, would do so trying to protect his friends and the assembled villagers, he only hoped that Wyshira wouldn’t follow the dwarf out of the temple.</blockquote>

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