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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1651134" data-attributes="member: 1210">Thrush's Tactical Flaw“I like this place,” Angelfire comments with a smile.They have returned to the village that bears her name, much as the mountain itself does.  “I think I might spend some time here,” Angel goes on laconically.  She smiles at Londo.  “It might be a good place to start a church.”  She thinks briefly of Sheva and Reth Fire-Scarred, two powerful priestesses of Coila who have spent time on Pesh.  An omen, perhaps?  With Reth long-since murdered by Marius- the irony, that he is another follower of Coila!- and Sheva having returned to Tirchond, perhaps she should spend some time here herself.  After all, she muses, she is a reasonably powerful cleric herself now...We will leave her lost in thought for the moment.***On a plain composed of fused and crystallized flame a great tent composed of sheets of fire has been set up.  A long banner licks out from the top of it, a white-hot flame surrounding a brass bowl.  Around the great tent are a series of lesser structures, neither as large nor as hot and bright as the great one.  Not far off is a garden of fireflowers, ever-changing and turning colors by the second.  Illusions of pleasing sights and sounds, of amusements and acrobats, entertain the throng of celebrants.  Along the edge of the fireflowers is a great celebration.  Over two thousand elementals, as well as hundred of efreeti, several salamander ambassadors and a dozen or so assorted others, attended by thousands of fire mephits and fire creatures, are here to celebrate Pasha Amhari Ifroobil’s puissance.“I knew that they could never take the City of Brass!” boasts one of the Pasha’s staunchest generals, seated at a long table made of obsidian imported from the Magma Pimple, right on the border of the paraelemental plane of magma.  There are incredible delicacies upon the table, although a creature of the Material Plane might not find any of it digestible.  “With the powers of Pasha Ifroobil on our side, they can never stand before us!  And now, surely all the others will realize the extent of their foolishness and bow down before the new Prince of All Evil Fire!!”  And all heads bow to the Pasha.“I do not hold that title yet,” Amhari cautions.  “Until all the others who would take Imix’ throne acknowledge me as Archomental, I will not use the title.”“Of course,” says another, one of the salamander ambassadors, “not all of them are so restrained.  Why, I’ve heard it said that Kembrin demands that his courtiers address him as befits the Prince while they are in the Crimson Garden.”“What’s this?” Amhari demands.The salamander- Amhari recognizes him as Dzeldole, a representative of a distasteful faction with fiendish blood- shrugs.  “So it is said, though I cannot attest to it.”The table has fallen silent as the partygoers await Amhari’s reaction.  He is known to be seeking to establish a more evil reputation, as would befit his new role.  For a moment he says nothing, but his face darkens.  His eyes blaze with orange fire.  It is obvious that the joy he had been experiencing a mere moment ago has been tragically lost.“Bah!” interrupts the faithful general.  “Kembrin will be brought to heel just like the rest of them!”“Of course,” Dzeldole responds.“A suitable demonstration of his might is all it would take,” the general continues.  “Indeed,” Dzeldole replies.  “Something to show that Pasha Ifroobil overshadows Imix himself.”“Yes, exactly!” the general says excitedly.  “For he does!  All hail Pasha Amhari Ifroobil, Protector of the City of Brass, Vizier to the Fire Sultan, Guardian of the Sea of White Flames, Overlord of the Fire Mephits, etc, etc!”  And indeed, all present hail Amhari.But it is not enough.With a roar of anger the great efreet Pasha draws Eruption and splits the table in two.“What must I do to prove myself to these ingrates?!” he rages.  “What will prove to them that I can do more than Imix ever could?”“You must defeat what he could not,” says the fiendish salamander.***Back to Bile Mountain- sorry, Mt. Angelfire.  Our heroes continue exploring, trying to clean out what they only tore through before.  Most of the chambers on the lowest level are empty; but one holds a pack of four huge bile-infected beetles.  The party suffers a rain of bile before they can launch a single attack.*   Then the beat down begins, with Londo rapidly slaying the closest beetle; then he and Thrush quickly move into the room.It’s somewhat hard to see the beetles; they seem slightly indistinct, fading into the shadows; but that doesn’t dissuade our heroes.  And nobody’s particularly concerned about the clacking mandibles of the beetles- until disaster strikes.  Thrush plans pretty much on just sucking up whatever damage the beetle manages to dish out.  He’s just upgraded his armor; he’s hoping they won’t be able to break through it.But these are slicer beetles.“AAAARGHHH!!!” Thrush screams, as one of the beetles snips through his left arm just above the elbow.  For an instant it hangs bizarrely from the hilt of his greatsword, but then the arm’s weight drags it down and it flops to the ground.  Staggering, Thrush utters a series of faint curses, and then, in an amazed-sounding voice, chokes out, “I DON’T HAVE A ONE-HANDED WEAPON!”Next Time: Oops!*To be fair, there were two pcs who went before them, but neither of them actually attacked.</blockquote>

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