JollyDoc's Rise of the Runelords...Updated 12/22
WarEagleMage
First Post
Adso is a 10th level monk built using the Pathfinder Beta Rules. I did incorporate the variant fighting style (Cobra) from Unearthed Arcana, and the Mage Slayer and Pierce Magical Concealment feats from Complete Arcane.
Note that in this campaign we are limited to core plus 3 splat books from which to choose our cheese.
Note that in this campaign we are limited to core plus 3 splat books from which to choose our cheese.
primemover003
First Post
And Mage Slayer (and it's ilk) is definitely one of Kraft's Cheesiest feats!
IMC MS only works on Spellcasters as defined in the PHB. It doesn't effect creatures with SLA's, so Rakshasas and Dragons are fair game, but most demons are not.
JollyDoc
Explorer
WarEagleMage
First Post
It's also not so great against stone giant necromancers with big hammers...
Those same stone giant necromancers and ogress sorceresses with unassociated class levels. We'll stop our cheese when James Jacobs stops his. And don't even get me started about Unholy Toughness!
At any rate, Adso is fully aware of the advantages and disadvantages of being a Mage Slayer, and accepts both with the stocisim one would expect of a monk of Irori.
I must also give JollyDoc a ton of credit for playing his mages with no metagaming involved. The casters don't know they have a Mage Slayer on their hands until he's all up in their grill, and that's how it's been handled in-game.
WarEagleDex
First Post
Dexter was going to be a pure Rogue, but then some one pointed out the pure cheese that is book of nine swords. So 2 levels of Sword sage tops of my 8 levels of Rogue. I weild two short swords. One of Subtilty and one of defending (gota love weapon swap) Because of book of nine swords I'm flanking someone 85% of the time which means my sword of Subtilty is a +4 and I end up sometimes with 4 attacks at 11+5d6.
A dex of 25,celestrial armor, a high wisdom, and a host of other magic items gives me an unbuffed ac of 36.. add to that the fact that I have meen rolling like a fiend on my HPs and have 97 of them, means I'm always in the front line.
A dex of 25,celestrial armor, a high wisdom, and a host of other magic items gives me an unbuffed ac of 36.. add to that the fact that I have meen rolling like a fiend on my HPs and have 97 of them, means I'm always in the front line.
JollyDoc
Explorer
LEGACY OF SIN
The cavernous room reeked of rotting fish. The walls were covered with carvings of complex spirals and were smeared with blood, as was the floor and ceiling. Crude chairs and benches scavenged from disparate locations were arranged in a half-circle facing west, where a soggy flight of stairs led down into a frothing tide pool. Over the stairs, a huge shark’s carcass hung from the rafters by lengths of mildewed rope. Numerous human heads had been crudely stitched to the shark’s side, and the whole thing was very poorly preserved and was the primary source of the foul stink in the room. The seven companions stepped slowly from the hallway into the chamber, gazing about them in disgust and apprehension. Their concern was well placed as, no sooner had they all entered, than the foul taxidermy turned its head towards them, and then wrenched violently against its chains as it flopped to the floor and began thrashing its way across the room.
“What…is that?” Dex asked as he gripped the hilts of his blades tightly.
“A golem of some sort, unless I miss my guess,” Wesh said. “Kind of like what we saw in Dory’s boat.”
“Great,” Dex sighed.
For his part, Adso didn’t particularly care what the thing was. It certainly meant them no good, and that was enough for him. Moving like quicksilver, he dashed across the floor, and sprang at the last moment, intending to land a crushing blow from a flying kick. Incredibly, the shark rolled out of his line of attack faster than he would have thought possible.
“Fast for a flesh golem,” Wesh nodded sagely. “Let’s see if it can dodge this.”
He waggled his fingers and the familiar flash of arcane bolts left his hands, but instead of coruscating energy, they were composed of fire. Wesh knew that mere magic would not harm the golem, but fire would slow it, if nothing else. He smiled, satisfied as the missiles struck, scorching the golem’s hide and immediately slowing its progress.
“Nice shot!” Cruemann said as he drew back his bow and released. “Now hold nice and still…”
His shafts flew true, straight as…well…arrows. Four of them sank deep into its flank…only…they didn’t. To everyone else watching, the archer had scored direct hits, but Cruemann saw something else. He saw the arrows pass straight through the creature, as if it was made of smoke. Then, after, the golem seemed to lose it…thereness…becoming shadowy and transparent.
“Ummm…guys…” he said. “My arrows went right through that thing, and now it looks…strange. Do you think it’s a ghost?”
Before anyone had a chance to answer, two figures emerged slowly from the pool at the far end of the chamber. Both were humanoid, but one was clad in floor-length robes, with no features visible, while the other looked to be a barbaric savage wearing naught but a loin cloth.
“Lay down your weapons and surrender,” the robed figure intoned. “Only then shall I call off my guardian.”
Sinclair glanced at Reaper and saw the necromancer roll his eyes. The little gnome smiled grimly and cast his hands out. A burst of fire exploded between the two figures and both recoiled in shock and anger. As for Reaper, he had an idea that there was more to the cloaked speaker than met the eye…and perhaps less. He wove his own incantation, a dispelling charm centered upon the man. The results were more than he expected as his target simply vanished.
Dexter’s brow creased. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew he couldn’t take anything at face value. He peered intently at the flopping shark golem, trying to see what Cruemann was talking about. Gradually, he did see. The beast was translucent, ephemeral, almost as if it didn’t truly exist. Dex made up his mind. Concentrating, he stepped into the shadows, and reappeared a moment later standing right next to the savage warrior who still stood within the pool.
“Cruemann’s right!” he shouted to his companions. “The golem’s not real! Ignore it!”
Wesh had already come to the same conclusion. He quickly leveled a second barrage of magic missiles, only this time directed at the barbarian. To his stunned disbelief, the missiles passed straight thru.
“Another one!” he cursed, but only Cruemann, Reaper and Sinclair heard him. Before he could warn Dexter and Duerten, a wall of solid stone suddenly appeared across the center of the room, trapping the two on the far side.
Dexter grimaced as he saw the wall appear, and then turned back towards the berserker.
“Your boss is just full of tricks,” he smirked, “but if you think we’re trapped over here with you, you’re mistaken. It’s you who’s trapped with us!”
With a snarl, the rogue plunged both blades through the big warrior’s chest. The satisfied look quickly faded, however, as the man simply smiled down at him, despite the blood streaming from his wounds. Behind Dex, however, Duerten saw something different: Dex was fighting a shadow.
Reaper stared at the wall speculatively. He knew such spells were possible, conjuring stone from thin air, but their opponent had already proven himself to be a talented illusionist. Was it possible that this was simply another example of that talent? There was only one way to find out. He walked up to the wall, and then simply stepped through.
Duerten grabbed Dexter’s arm
“It’s not real, lad, can’t ye see?”
Dex looked him in disbelief.
“Are you insane? He’s as flesh and blood as you and I! Let me go!”
He wrenched free of the dwarf’s grasp and renewed his assault upon the barbarian. Still the man just stood there, taking his blows with a smile on his face.
“Dammit, boy!” Duerten snarled, and he tried to step past the rogue and through the illusion, to show him its true nature. He found his path blocked, however. Not by the barbarian…by something else…something he couldn’t see. Cursing again, he quickly snapped out a prayer. A wave of rippling power washed through him, purging the area of anything unseen. Standing on the steps beside the illusion, the cloaked man reappeared.
Wesh, Cruemann, Sinclair and Adso stepped through the wall behind Reaper, just as the hooded mage stood revealed again. Sinclair quickly hurled another fiery burst, causing him to growl in pain and draw back. At the same moment, Reaper chanted and a mass of rubbery, black tentacles sprang from the pool. Once more, however, his plan did not work as he intended. The cloaked mage moved easily through the appendages, unimpeded by their constricting grasp.
“Another illusion?” Reaper snapped. “Wesh, Cruemann! Shoot him! We’ll see what’s real and what’s not!”
Wesh complied, sending another salvo of magic missiles. This time, his assault seemed to strike true, driving the magician back. Cruemann drew his bow taught, but as he prepared to release, his bowstring suddenly snapped, opening a nasty gash along the bowman’s jaw.
“Enough!” Reaper shouted, and he conjured a second dispelling field. This time, both the hooded figure and the barbaric warrior that Dexter still fought, both vanished, only to be replaced by the huge bulk of a fish-like creature with writhing tentacles.
“It’s…an aboleth…,” Wesh whispered.
“Not fer long, it ain’t!” Duerten spat. He raised his axe, calling Sarenrae’s name. His medallion pulsed with crimson light, and for a moment, it seemed as if the head of his weapon turned to solidified blood. He brought it down heavily upon the aboleth, and the creature’s own ichor-like bodily fluids spurted like a fountain. Squealing inhumanly, the creature sank slowly beneath the water.
___________________________________________________
“Well, I guess we can scratch one aboleth,” Dexter smirked.
“Yes, but I’m not sure that solves our problem,” Wesh replied. “I mean, what was the point in all this? A rogue aboleth enslaves some human cultists and manufactures a serial killer? Why? Where’s this ‘Young One’ we read about?”
“What about down there?” Sinclair piped up.
The others turned to look and saw the gnome pointing towards the pool. The stairs that led down into it descended into a submerged tunnel. No one else had noticed it.
“Who’s up for a swim?” Reaper asked, clapping his hands.
Down they went, one-by-one. Duerten, anticipating just such a development after facing Mr. Dory’s henchmen, conferred upon each of his companions the ability to temporarily breathe water. Nonetheless, it was still a very alien experience. The tunnel led on for thousands of feet, sloping gradually downward, taking them deep below the surface of Magnimar’s bay. When they emerged on the far side, they saw looming out of the briny murk what appeared to be a large, sunken church. The building listed at a slight angle, its walls festooned with seaweed and barnacles. It appeared that the building wasn’t quite finished when it sank; its façade was a mess of partially collapsed walls and ruined scaffolding that had settled into a dangerous tangle of rubble. The church’s spire jutted upward, nearly reaching the surface before itself ending in a gaping wound…it seemed that more than one unfortunate ship had sailed into the crown of the submerged spire over the years.
Slowly, cautiously, the seven companions walked across the ocean floor towards the strange revenant. The rubble blocking the interior proved impassable, but with the aid of Reaper and Sinclair, the obstacle was quickly circumvented by a brief transdimensional jaunt. Inside, layers of silt covered the once fine floor. Immense mounds of collapsed scaffolding lay heaped in the eastern end, but that spectacle was dwarfed by the gaping pit that yawned to the west, practically engulfing the entire wing of the structure. The pit’s walls and rim flickered and writhed with intricate glyphs, woven together in a complex tapestry of magical light that was horribly familiar in its pattern…the Sihedron Rune. The glyphs seemed to undulate and writhe, almost slithering across each other like and obscene carpet of snakes. Floating in the near nave of the church, however, was a more immediate problem…a trio of aboleths, all staring at the new arrivals with alien eyes.
Adso launched himself through the water like a shark, arrowing towards the nearest of the aboleths. The creature lashed at the monk with its tentacles, but Adso spiraled and pinwheeled like he had been born beneath the surface. He struck like a sledgehammer, and the massive being was actually moved backwards, though its mass was easily twenty times that of the orc. Dexter moved almost as fluidly as his friend, and though he struck with more finesse, his attack was no less effective as he slipped his blade between the plates of the aboleth’s carapace.
As the two warriors charged into the fray, Reaper and Wesh began lobbing energy bolts at the second aboleth as it began moving towards the group. Duerten stepped in front of the wizards as the creature approached, and it slapped casually at him with one writhing tentacle. The dwarf took the blow, but returned it in kind with a vicious chop from his axe. He raised his weapon again as the aboleth bore down on him, but suddenly the creature reared in the water, a high pitched wail sounding from its air holes as Dexter appeared in a flash of darklight atop its back and plunged both of his swords into its skull. The aboleth thrashed and writhed a moment more before sinking slowly to the church floor. Behind it, the first of its brothers also ceased its struggles as Adso delivered a devastating combination of punches and kicks. The last of the aboleths turned and swam frantically towards the gaping maw of the pit.
When it happened, it was almost too fast for the onlookers to grasp what exactly had occurred. A pair of enormous tentacles emerged from the abyss, wrapped around the aboleth and then hauled it into the darkness. A moment later, black blood billowed up out of the blackness. Several long, silent seconds passed, and then the tentacles reappeared, followed by six arms the size of tree trunks. Last came the body of the behemoth. It appeared to be some sort of monstrous squid, but its eyes blazed with crimson intelligence, and the side of its head bore some sort of scar or birth mark that looked ominously like the sign of Lamashtu.
Once again, it was Adso who acted first. Showing no fear or hesitation at all, the burly orc swam straight towards the kraken, but he never got within twenty feet of the beast. One long tentacle whipped out and struck the orc across the face, shattering his nose in a spray of bright red blood. As Adso was hurled backwards, another tentacle snaked out impossible far and wrapped itself around Duerten, lifting the dwarf from his feet and dragging him towards the kraken’s maw. As the priest was pulled closer and closer, the monster’s arms hammered mercilessly at him, beating him all but senseless. Desperately, Wesh unleashed a massive blast of energy, concentrating all of his arcane power into one blinding blast. The kraken reeled from the blow, but did not release its constricting hold on Duerten. At the same time, Sinclair loosed a bolt of electricity that conducted through the intervening water like a hot knife through butter. When it struck the beast, the water around it exploded in a coruscating miasma of lightning. Its limbs jerked wildly, swinging Duerten about like a ragdoll. As the kraken twitched and jittered, Dexter stepped into the shadows once more and reappeared on the lip of the pit. Pushing off, he launched himself upwards, both blades held stiffly above him. The swords sank deep into the kraken’s hide, and the monster turned its baleful eye upon him. Duerten was still held in its grip, but its hold loosened, its prey temporarily forgotten. Blood leaking from his mouth, nose and eyes, the priest managed to pull his axe arm free. As he muttered under his breath, the head of the weapon seemed to transform into blackest obsidian. Calling Sarenrae’s name, the dwarf raised the axe and brought it down with all his remaining strength upon the kraken’s head. The magically hardened blade sliced through the carapace as if it were paper and cleaved straight down into the creature’s brain. The kraken’s arms and tentacles went limp, releasing Duerten as it spiraled down into the black abyss and was lost from view.
EPILOGUE
Reaper and Wesh spent hours studying the strange configuration of the Sihedron Rune before they finally felt that they had discerned its purpose. It was a beacon for negative emotions, specifically, fear. It focused those fears into the pit, creating a kind of incubator for the fiendish kraken growing within. It seemed that the first aboleth they had fought, the Whisperer, had not been allied with the other three. It was obvious that his association with the cult of Lamashtu branded him as an outcast among his own kind, guilty of the vilest of sins…faith. In need of allies to aid him, and fodder to feed the Rune, he sent his skum slaves to recruit Mr. Dory, ordering the councilman to concoct the Lantern Man. The serial killer’s exploits fed the fears of the residents of Underbridge, and those fears in turn fed the kraken, a creature that the Whisperer believed to be a minion of Lamashtu, sent to him as a reward for his unswerving loyalty. Perhaps she would reward him more appropriately in the hereafter…
ONE YEAR LATER…
When Wesh Baltar’s first book was published, it was met with both critical acclaim by the artistic elite of Magnimar, who hailed it as a magnificent work of intrigue, and by equal amounts of scorn by the academic elite, who dubbed it a pedantic work of fiction. Regardless, its true success was shown by its ramifications among the masses of Underbridge. The poor, the forgotten, the downtrodden…old and young, they devoured the novel, and spread news about it to friends and family alike. To them it was seen as a treatise on the class inequalities inherent in Magnimar’s political system. It sparked a flame which rapidly grew to a conflagration, and a movement which shook the very pillars of society…the Lantern Society…
The cavernous room reeked of rotting fish. The walls were covered with carvings of complex spirals and were smeared with blood, as was the floor and ceiling. Crude chairs and benches scavenged from disparate locations were arranged in a half-circle facing west, where a soggy flight of stairs led down into a frothing tide pool. Over the stairs, a huge shark’s carcass hung from the rafters by lengths of mildewed rope. Numerous human heads had been crudely stitched to the shark’s side, and the whole thing was very poorly preserved and was the primary source of the foul stink in the room. The seven companions stepped slowly from the hallway into the chamber, gazing about them in disgust and apprehension. Their concern was well placed as, no sooner had they all entered, than the foul taxidermy turned its head towards them, and then wrenched violently against its chains as it flopped to the floor and began thrashing its way across the room.
“What…is that?” Dex asked as he gripped the hilts of his blades tightly.
“A golem of some sort, unless I miss my guess,” Wesh said. “Kind of like what we saw in Dory’s boat.”
“Great,” Dex sighed.
For his part, Adso didn’t particularly care what the thing was. It certainly meant them no good, and that was enough for him. Moving like quicksilver, he dashed across the floor, and sprang at the last moment, intending to land a crushing blow from a flying kick. Incredibly, the shark rolled out of his line of attack faster than he would have thought possible.
“Fast for a flesh golem,” Wesh nodded sagely. “Let’s see if it can dodge this.”
He waggled his fingers and the familiar flash of arcane bolts left his hands, but instead of coruscating energy, they were composed of fire. Wesh knew that mere magic would not harm the golem, but fire would slow it, if nothing else. He smiled, satisfied as the missiles struck, scorching the golem’s hide and immediately slowing its progress.
“Nice shot!” Cruemann said as he drew back his bow and released. “Now hold nice and still…”
His shafts flew true, straight as…well…arrows. Four of them sank deep into its flank…only…they didn’t. To everyone else watching, the archer had scored direct hits, but Cruemann saw something else. He saw the arrows pass straight through the creature, as if it was made of smoke. Then, after, the golem seemed to lose it…thereness…becoming shadowy and transparent.
“Ummm…guys…” he said. “My arrows went right through that thing, and now it looks…strange. Do you think it’s a ghost?”
Before anyone had a chance to answer, two figures emerged slowly from the pool at the far end of the chamber. Both were humanoid, but one was clad in floor-length robes, with no features visible, while the other looked to be a barbaric savage wearing naught but a loin cloth.
“Lay down your weapons and surrender,” the robed figure intoned. “Only then shall I call off my guardian.”
Sinclair glanced at Reaper and saw the necromancer roll his eyes. The little gnome smiled grimly and cast his hands out. A burst of fire exploded between the two figures and both recoiled in shock and anger. As for Reaper, he had an idea that there was more to the cloaked speaker than met the eye…and perhaps less. He wove his own incantation, a dispelling charm centered upon the man. The results were more than he expected as his target simply vanished.
Dexter’s brow creased. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew he couldn’t take anything at face value. He peered intently at the flopping shark golem, trying to see what Cruemann was talking about. Gradually, he did see. The beast was translucent, ephemeral, almost as if it didn’t truly exist. Dex made up his mind. Concentrating, he stepped into the shadows, and reappeared a moment later standing right next to the savage warrior who still stood within the pool.
“Cruemann’s right!” he shouted to his companions. “The golem’s not real! Ignore it!”
Wesh had already come to the same conclusion. He quickly leveled a second barrage of magic missiles, only this time directed at the barbarian. To his stunned disbelief, the missiles passed straight thru.
“Another one!” he cursed, but only Cruemann, Reaper and Sinclair heard him. Before he could warn Dexter and Duerten, a wall of solid stone suddenly appeared across the center of the room, trapping the two on the far side.
Dexter grimaced as he saw the wall appear, and then turned back towards the berserker.
“Your boss is just full of tricks,” he smirked, “but if you think we’re trapped over here with you, you’re mistaken. It’s you who’s trapped with us!”
With a snarl, the rogue plunged both blades through the big warrior’s chest. The satisfied look quickly faded, however, as the man simply smiled down at him, despite the blood streaming from his wounds. Behind Dex, however, Duerten saw something different: Dex was fighting a shadow.
Reaper stared at the wall speculatively. He knew such spells were possible, conjuring stone from thin air, but their opponent had already proven himself to be a talented illusionist. Was it possible that this was simply another example of that talent? There was only one way to find out. He walked up to the wall, and then simply stepped through.
Duerten grabbed Dexter’s arm
“It’s not real, lad, can’t ye see?”
Dex looked him in disbelief.
“Are you insane? He’s as flesh and blood as you and I! Let me go!”
He wrenched free of the dwarf’s grasp and renewed his assault upon the barbarian. Still the man just stood there, taking his blows with a smile on his face.
“Dammit, boy!” Duerten snarled, and he tried to step past the rogue and through the illusion, to show him its true nature. He found his path blocked, however. Not by the barbarian…by something else…something he couldn’t see. Cursing again, he quickly snapped out a prayer. A wave of rippling power washed through him, purging the area of anything unseen. Standing on the steps beside the illusion, the cloaked man reappeared.
Wesh, Cruemann, Sinclair and Adso stepped through the wall behind Reaper, just as the hooded mage stood revealed again. Sinclair quickly hurled another fiery burst, causing him to growl in pain and draw back. At the same moment, Reaper chanted and a mass of rubbery, black tentacles sprang from the pool. Once more, however, his plan did not work as he intended. The cloaked mage moved easily through the appendages, unimpeded by their constricting grasp.
“Another illusion?” Reaper snapped. “Wesh, Cruemann! Shoot him! We’ll see what’s real and what’s not!”
Wesh complied, sending another salvo of magic missiles. This time, his assault seemed to strike true, driving the magician back. Cruemann drew his bow taught, but as he prepared to release, his bowstring suddenly snapped, opening a nasty gash along the bowman’s jaw.
“Enough!” Reaper shouted, and he conjured a second dispelling field. This time, both the hooded figure and the barbaric warrior that Dexter still fought, both vanished, only to be replaced by the huge bulk of a fish-like creature with writhing tentacles.
“It’s…an aboleth…,” Wesh whispered.
“Not fer long, it ain’t!” Duerten spat. He raised his axe, calling Sarenrae’s name. His medallion pulsed with crimson light, and for a moment, it seemed as if the head of his weapon turned to solidified blood. He brought it down heavily upon the aboleth, and the creature’s own ichor-like bodily fluids spurted like a fountain. Squealing inhumanly, the creature sank slowly beneath the water.
___________________________________________________
“Well, I guess we can scratch one aboleth,” Dexter smirked.
“Yes, but I’m not sure that solves our problem,” Wesh replied. “I mean, what was the point in all this? A rogue aboleth enslaves some human cultists and manufactures a serial killer? Why? Where’s this ‘Young One’ we read about?”
“What about down there?” Sinclair piped up.
The others turned to look and saw the gnome pointing towards the pool. The stairs that led down into it descended into a submerged tunnel. No one else had noticed it.
“Who’s up for a swim?” Reaper asked, clapping his hands.
Down they went, one-by-one. Duerten, anticipating just such a development after facing Mr. Dory’s henchmen, conferred upon each of his companions the ability to temporarily breathe water. Nonetheless, it was still a very alien experience. The tunnel led on for thousands of feet, sloping gradually downward, taking them deep below the surface of Magnimar’s bay. When they emerged on the far side, they saw looming out of the briny murk what appeared to be a large, sunken church. The building listed at a slight angle, its walls festooned with seaweed and barnacles. It appeared that the building wasn’t quite finished when it sank; its façade was a mess of partially collapsed walls and ruined scaffolding that had settled into a dangerous tangle of rubble. The church’s spire jutted upward, nearly reaching the surface before itself ending in a gaping wound…it seemed that more than one unfortunate ship had sailed into the crown of the submerged spire over the years.
Slowly, cautiously, the seven companions walked across the ocean floor towards the strange revenant. The rubble blocking the interior proved impassable, but with the aid of Reaper and Sinclair, the obstacle was quickly circumvented by a brief transdimensional jaunt. Inside, layers of silt covered the once fine floor. Immense mounds of collapsed scaffolding lay heaped in the eastern end, but that spectacle was dwarfed by the gaping pit that yawned to the west, practically engulfing the entire wing of the structure. The pit’s walls and rim flickered and writhed with intricate glyphs, woven together in a complex tapestry of magical light that was horribly familiar in its pattern…the Sihedron Rune. The glyphs seemed to undulate and writhe, almost slithering across each other like and obscene carpet of snakes. Floating in the near nave of the church, however, was a more immediate problem…a trio of aboleths, all staring at the new arrivals with alien eyes.
Adso launched himself through the water like a shark, arrowing towards the nearest of the aboleths. The creature lashed at the monk with its tentacles, but Adso spiraled and pinwheeled like he had been born beneath the surface. He struck like a sledgehammer, and the massive being was actually moved backwards, though its mass was easily twenty times that of the orc. Dexter moved almost as fluidly as his friend, and though he struck with more finesse, his attack was no less effective as he slipped his blade between the plates of the aboleth’s carapace.
As the two warriors charged into the fray, Reaper and Wesh began lobbing energy bolts at the second aboleth as it began moving towards the group. Duerten stepped in front of the wizards as the creature approached, and it slapped casually at him with one writhing tentacle. The dwarf took the blow, but returned it in kind with a vicious chop from his axe. He raised his weapon again as the aboleth bore down on him, but suddenly the creature reared in the water, a high pitched wail sounding from its air holes as Dexter appeared in a flash of darklight atop its back and plunged both of his swords into its skull. The aboleth thrashed and writhed a moment more before sinking slowly to the church floor. Behind it, the first of its brothers also ceased its struggles as Adso delivered a devastating combination of punches and kicks. The last of the aboleths turned and swam frantically towards the gaping maw of the pit.
When it happened, it was almost too fast for the onlookers to grasp what exactly had occurred. A pair of enormous tentacles emerged from the abyss, wrapped around the aboleth and then hauled it into the darkness. A moment later, black blood billowed up out of the blackness. Several long, silent seconds passed, and then the tentacles reappeared, followed by six arms the size of tree trunks. Last came the body of the behemoth. It appeared to be some sort of monstrous squid, but its eyes blazed with crimson intelligence, and the side of its head bore some sort of scar or birth mark that looked ominously like the sign of Lamashtu.
Once again, it was Adso who acted first. Showing no fear or hesitation at all, the burly orc swam straight towards the kraken, but he never got within twenty feet of the beast. One long tentacle whipped out and struck the orc across the face, shattering his nose in a spray of bright red blood. As Adso was hurled backwards, another tentacle snaked out impossible far and wrapped itself around Duerten, lifting the dwarf from his feet and dragging him towards the kraken’s maw. As the priest was pulled closer and closer, the monster’s arms hammered mercilessly at him, beating him all but senseless. Desperately, Wesh unleashed a massive blast of energy, concentrating all of his arcane power into one blinding blast. The kraken reeled from the blow, but did not release its constricting hold on Duerten. At the same time, Sinclair loosed a bolt of electricity that conducted through the intervening water like a hot knife through butter. When it struck the beast, the water around it exploded in a coruscating miasma of lightning. Its limbs jerked wildly, swinging Duerten about like a ragdoll. As the kraken twitched and jittered, Dexter stepped into the shadows once more and reappeared on the lip of the pit. Pushing off, he launched himself upwards, both blades held stiffly above him. The swords sank deep into the kraken’s hide, and the monster turned its baleful eye upon him. Duerten was still held in its grip, but its hold loosened, its prey temporarily forgotten. Blood leaking from his mouth, nose and eyes, the priest managed to pull his axe arm free. As he muttered under his breath, the head of the weapon seemed to transform into blackest obsidian. Calling Sarenrae’s name, the dwarf raised the axe and brought it down with all his remaining strength upon the kraken’s head. The magically hardened blade sliced through the carapace as if it were paper and cleaved straight down into the creature’s brain. The kraken’s arms and tentacles went limp, releasing Duerten as it spiraled down into the black abyss and was lost from view.
EPILOGUE
Reaper and Wesh spent hours studying the strange configuration of the Sihedron Rune before they finally felt that they had discerned its purpose. It was a beacon for negative emotions, specifically, fear. It focused those fears into the pit, creating a kind of incubator for the fiendish kraken growing within. It seemed that the first aboleth they had fought, the Whisperer, had not been allied with the other three. It was obvious that his association with the cult of Lamashtu branded him as an outcast among his own kind, guilty of the vilest of sins…faith. In need of allies to aid him, and fodder to feed the Rune, he sent his skum slaves to recruit Mr. Dory, ordering the councilman to concoct the Lantern Man. The serial killer’s exploits fed the fears of the residents of Underbridge, and those fears in turn fed the kraken, a creature that the Whisperer believed to be a minion of Lamashtu, sent to him as a reward for his unswerving loyalty. Perhaps she would reward him more appropriately in the hereafter…
ONE YEAR LATER…
When Wesh Baltar’s first book was published, it was met with both critical acclaim by the artistic elite of Magnimar, who hailed it as a magnificent work of intrigue, and by equal amounts of scorn by the academic elite, who dubbed it a pedantic work of fiction. Regardless, its true success was shown by its ramifications among the masses of Underbridge. The poor, the forgotten, the downtrodden…old and young, they devoured the novel, and spread news about it to friends and family alike. To them it was seen as a treatise on the class inequalities inherent in Magnimar’s political system. It sparked a flame which rapidly grew to a conflagration, and a movement which shook the very pillars of society…the Lantern Society…
Joachim
First Post
Nice post, yet again, Sir Jolly.
In response to the question from earlier this week, Reaper is a level 10 Dread Necromancer from Heroes of Horror. As WarEagleMage (aka Bryant) mentioned earlier, we are allowed to use 3 non-core books in character creation, and the core books include the PFRPG Beta, MIC, and SpC. The three books I have used (and what I took from them) are:
1) Heroes of Horror - Dread Necromancer (obviously)
2) Complete Champion - Healing Devotion feat (which I have dumped 12 rebuke attempts into as well to gain 13 uses per day to give fast healing 3 for 1 minute...at this point I can heal 390 hps per day, yay!)
3) Fiend Folio - My familiar come from here (Ghostly Visage, named Baab).
Apart from that, my feats are pretty basic...Spell Focus / Greater Spell Focus, Weapon Finesse, Extra Turning, Leadership, and Skill Focus (UMD). Magic Items of note include a full set of the Raiment of the Four, Caduceus Bracers (which JD has allowed me to trade fast healing points for the opportunity to slowly heal ability damage), and lots of wands/scrolls.
In response to the question from earlier this week, Reaper is a level 10 Dread Necromancer from Heroes of Horror. As WarEagleMage (aka Bryant) mentioned earlier, we are allowed to use 3 non-core books in character creation, and the core books include the PFRPG Beta, MIC, and SpC. The three books I have used (and what I took from them) are:
1) Heroes of Horror - Dread Necromancer (obviously)
2) Complete Champion - Healing Devotion feat (which I have dumped 12 rebuke attempts into as well to gain 13 uses per day to give fast healing 3 for 1 minute...at this point I can heal 390 hps per day, yay!)
3) Fiend Folio - My familiar come from here (Ghostly Visage, named Baab).
Apart from that, my feats are pretty basic...Spell Focus / Greater Spell Focus, Weapon Finesse, Extra Turning, Leadership, and Skill Focus (UMD). Magic Items of note include a full set of the Raiment of the Four, Caduceus Bracers (which JD has allowed me to trade fast healing points for the opportunity to slowly heal ability damage), and lots of wands/scrolls.
LordVyreth
First Post
Leadership? How does that factor in mechanically? Does your cohort ever adventure with the group?
