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Morrus' SH II - War of the Burning Sky (4e) (updated 21st & 22nd October)
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<blockquote data-quote="Eccles" data-source="post: 4890861" data-attributes="member: 5675"><p>In the daylight, the devastation was revealed. Almost every building showed some sign of damage or abandonment. Many shopfronts were shattered, and many dozens of homes were burning in the early light. A few brave souls on the streets spread worrying news; the Ragesians had been driven back, but would soon return in far greater numbers. Demands had been made that the gates be opened to the feared Ragesian Inquisitors. </p><p></p><p>The group reached the warehouse in good time, given the empty streets. On the other side of the street stood a baker’s shop, where Torrent informed us the Resistance had stationed a number of agents. However once inside, there was no sign of life – though there were several indications that a bloody fight had taken place. </p><p></p><p>Turning their attention to the warehouse, they noted that the sign outside advertised lingerie (“Even if you have tusks, you’ll still look good”). The double door to the front was obviously bolted, and there was no side door. On one side was a collapsed shell of a building which had clearly been bombed by the Ragesians. On the other was a three storey building which overlooked the roof.</p><p></p><p>Creeping to this taller structure, the group looked down at the roof of the warehouse, and Grusalock swiftly pointed out a series of marks which indicated a trapdoor was hidden under a heavy layer of snow. </p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>Having picked their way across the roof, a simple plan was formed. Using rope, the group would rappel down into the warehouse, and then engage any Ragesian sympathisers within. </p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>It is said that no plan survives contact with the enemy, and the same was true of this very simple stratagem. Sliding down the rope last of all into a melee with several sword and club wielding thugs, Tarn was still fastening his shield to his arm when 2 archers rounded one pile of crates and began a rain of shots down on Wingwrath, whilst a mage emerged from another pile, slamming his staff down on the floor and sending lightning crackling over most of the group. </p><p></p><p>As Grusalock warped into a roaring bear and charged at the mage, a tiny draconic creature emerged, clawed at him and then vanished from sight once more. </p><p></p><p>Tyr ran to join Grusalock, and together they worked at stabbing, slashing and distracting the mage, whilst the thugs heavy blows proved that they weren’t up to penetrating Tarn’s heavy armour and shield. </p><p></p><p>As his bear-claws crashed through the mage’s chest, Grusalock turned back into his elven form, and ran back at tremendous speed to join the rest of the group. His hair was standing on end from lightning hits, and an open wound in his shoulder dripped green poisons from the pseudodragon’s attacks. </p><p></p><p>“Suck it up, princess,” shouted Tok’hen at him as he flourished his sword at the thugs. </p><p></p><p>The pseudo-dragon continued to stab at Grusalock, and the party continued to heal him as he shifted from elf to bear form and then back again. Wingwrath, meanwhile, pushed his way towards the two archers, taking a punishing fire from them as he closed. </p><p></p><p>Roaring in bear form once more, Grusalock heaved one of the thugs away from where they were still cooling Tarn with the draft from their weapons. He flung the man onto the point of Tok’hen’s blade where he gasped once and then slumped to the floor. A few moments later, another one was dragged to the floor by Grusalock’s summoned vines. As Tok’hen gave enthusiastic encouragement, Tarn’s blade made short work of this second thug, and then a heavy blow with his foot left the last thug sinking to the floor cross-eyed. </p><p></p><p>A further blast of cold from Wingwrath slammed into the darting form of the pseudodragon, which burst in a shower of entrails over Tarn leaving him coughing and choking. </p><p></p><p>Towards the front of the warehouse, one of the two crossbowmen snapped off a shot and ran for around a pile of crates, hotly pursued by several members of the party. Tyr was ahead of the others, and abruptly vanished with a yell of alarm as a trapdoor opened up beneath him. </p><p></p><p>Transforming back from elf to bear, Grusalock hurtled around the trapdoor, followed by Tok’hen who leapt over it. However as Grusalock dashed around the corner of a massive pile of crates he ran onto the point of a readied longspear and collapsed heavily to the ground. </p><p></p><p>The other crossbowman was also running around the back of the tottering pile of chests, and Tarn moved to head him off. Although a good plan, it was abruptly interrupted when Tarn plunged through the floor into a second concealed trapdoor. Tyr easily clambered out of the 1st hole, and Grusalock was brought back from death’s door by Torrent’s prayer – however Tarn was only able to scrabble vainly at the walls of the pit. The fleeing crossbowman was too quick, and he escaped through a hidden door in the back of the warehouse, pursued by a vengeful Tyr.</p><p></p><p>There was a thrown dagger, and the spearman collapsed into the fresh snow.</p><p></p><p>.oOo.</p><p></p><p>Returning to the thug who was still crying on the ground and clutching his crotch, the bloodied and tired adventurers had no difficulty in persuading him of their anger, and their threats swiftly bore fruit.</p><p></p><p>“We were to assist another group of infiltrators,” sobbed the man. “We were just to be a distraction – set fire to a building near some counsellor or something.”</p><p></p><p>The snow was still falling as the group returned to their temple base of operations.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Eccles, post: 4890861, member: 5675"] In the daylight, the devastation was revealed. Almost every building showed some sign of damage or abandonment. Many shopfronts were shattered, and many dozens of homes were burning in the early light. A few brave souls on the streets spread worrying news; the Ragesians had been driven back, but would soon return in far greater numbers. Demands had been made that the gates be opened to the feared Ragesian Inquisitors. The group reached the warehouse in good time, given the empty streets. On the other side of the street stood a baker’s shop, where Torrent informed us the Resistance had stationed a number of agents. However once inside, there was no sign of life – though there were several indications that a bloody fight had taken place. Turning their attention to the warehouse, they noted that the sign outside advertised lingerie (“Even if you have tusks, you’ll still look good”). The double door to the front was obviously bolted, and there was no side door. On one side was a collapsed shell of a building which had clearly been bombed by the Ragesians. On the other was a three storey building which overlooked the roof. Creeping to this taller structure, the group looked down at the roof of the warehouse, and Grusalock swiftly pointed out a series of marks which indicated a trapdoor was hidden under a heavy layer of snow. .oOo. Having picked their way across the roof, a simple plan was formed. Using rope, the group would rappel down into the warehouse, and then engage any Ragesian sympathisers within. .oOo. It is said that no plan survives contact with the enemy, and the same was true of this very simple stratagem. Sliding down the rope last of all into a melee with several sword and club wielding thugs, Tarn was still fastening his shield to his arm when 2 archers rounded one pile of crates and began a rain of shots down on Wingwrath, whilst a mage emerged from another pile, slamming his staff down on the floor and sending lightning crackling over most of the group. As Grusalock warped into a roaring bear and charged at the mage, a tiny draconic creature emerged, clawed at him and then vanished from sight once more. Tyr ran to join Grusalock, and together they worked at stabbing, slashing and distracting the mage, whilst the thugs heavy blows proved that they weren’t up to penetrating Tarn’s heavy armour and shield. As his bear-claws crashed through the mage’s chest, Grusalock turned back into his elven form, and ran back at tremendous speed to join the rest of the group. His hair was standing on end from lightning hits, and an open wound in his shoulder dripped green poisons from the pseudodragon’s attacks. “Suck it up, princess,” shouted Tok’hen at him as he flourished his sword at the thugs. The pseudo-dragon continued to stab at Grusalock, and the party continued to heal him as he shifted from elf to bear form and then back again. Wingwrath, meanwhile, pushed his way towards the two archers, taking a punishing fire from them as he closed. Roaring in bear form once more, Grusalock heaved one of the thugs away from where they were still cooling Tarn with the draft from their weapons. He flung the man onto the point of Tok’hen’s blade where he gasped once and then slumped to the floor. A few moments later, another one was dragged to the floor by Grusalock’s summoned vines. As Tok’hen gave enthusiastic encouragement, Tarn’s blade made short work of this second thug, and then a heavy blow with his foot left the last thug sinking to the floor cross-eyed. A further blast of cold from Wingwrath slammed into the darting form of the pseudodragon, which burst in a shower of entrails over Tarn leaving him coughing and choking. Towards the front of the warehouse, one of the two crossbowmen snapped off a shot and ran for around a pile of crates, hotly pursued by several members of the party. Tyr was ahead of the others, and abruptly vanished with a yell of alarm as a trapdoor opened up beneath him. Transforming back from elf to bear, Grusalock hurtled around the trapdoor, followed by Tok’hen who leapt over it. However as Grusalock dashed around the corner of a massive pile of crates he ran onto the point of a readied longspear and collapsed heavily to the ground. The other crossbowman was also running around the back of the tottering pile of chests, and Tarn moved to head him off. Although a good plan, it was abruptly interrupted when Tarn plunged through the floor into a second concealed trapdoor. Tyr easily clambered out of the 1st hole, and Grusalock was brought back from death’s door by Torrent’s prayer – however Tarn was only able to scrabble vainly at the walls of the pit. The fleeing crossbowman was too quick, and he escaped through a hidden door in the back of the warehouse, pursued by a vengeful Tyr. There was a thrown dagger, and the spearman collapsed into the fresh snow. .oOo. Returning to the thug who was still crying on the ground and clutching his crotch, the bloodied and tired adventurers had no difficulty in persuading him of their anger, and their threats swiftly bore fruit. “We were to assist another group of infiltrators,” sobbed the man. “We were just to be a distraction – set fire to a building near some counsellor or something.” The snow was still falling as the group returned to their temple base of operations. [/QUOTE]
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