GoodKingJayIII
First Post
shilsen said:
Not just sleep! Other naughty things too!
By the way, what level are these guys now?
Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
Not just sleep! Other naughty things too!
By the way, what level are these guys now?
GoodKingJayIII said:
Anyone who want's to spy on what Nameless does in his private time deserves what they get...
GoodKingJayIII said:
The group is 13th, except for Nameless who's a level behind due to the reincarnation. He was getting a +1 caster level boost from the animated Edgar though which takes most of the sting out of it. He'll probably level at the end of the current story though, unfortunately the level boost won't be sticking around. But so it goes.
shilsen
Adventurer
And, after an inordinately long hiatus, here's the last update before we start gaming again. I'm leaving for the US on the 19th and hoping to get a game in the next weekend. But until then...
* * * * * * * * * *
As Malkom shouts his warning, Maddox – who has remained on deck throughout the night – strides swiftly back towards the helm to join the captain and Six. While doing so, he shouts orders to the half dozen Karrnathi soldiers on the current watch, who rush towards the two port-side ballistae and begin to turn them toward the attackers. More soldiers, some Karrnathi and some of the Brelish complement of the airship, begin to hurry onto the deck too and scatter to take up their positions. The door to the pilot’s quarters behind Mal open as a partly-clad Wash and Zoey hurry out, the pilot grabbing the wheel at Mal’s command while his wife rushes to the nearest ballista, yelling for Jayne as she goes.
The wyverns, meanwhile, are swiftly moving closer, far faster than the leisurely motion of their tattered wings would indicate. Maddox says, “The bastards are flying too fast for zombies. They’re using some form of magic.”
“Well, it’s not going to be fast enough! Wash – get us out of here!”
“Sure, Mal,” says the pilot with a smile, spinning the wheel hard to starboard. “I am a leaf on th…,” he begins, before Mal growls, “You say that one more time and I throw you overboard!” Wash grimaces and falls silent, focusing on steering the ship. The Serenity responds with surprising speed, beginning to heel away from the attackers.
As it is does so, one of the men on the furthest wyvern unfurls a second, smaller banner beneath the large one bearing the insignia of the Emerald Claw. This one depicts a skeletal hand horizontally holding a red snake* and sheds a dim light around it, the color of dried blood. The lurid radiance spreads quickly, like a growing flame, more clearly illumining the figures below it. Six’s eyes are immediately drawn to one who sits on what appears to be a stool implanted onto the wyvern’s back, due to the desiccated and almost skeletal head, with flesh pulled tight over it. Maddox evidently knows it, since he draws a sudden breath and then says, “Emrena the Red! So she’s alive – and a lich!”
“Friend of yours?”
“Not exactly,” he replies flatly. “She was a well-known necromancer in the Emerald Claw and did some great work for Karrnath during the War. She disappeared when it became a terrorist organization, and I had no idea she was still alive. Well – not alive, I see!”
“Emrena the Red? Is that because she is bloodthirsty?”
“No,” says the bone knight, pointing at the figure’s clothing, which Six now notes consists of a red dinner dress which would be considered quite daring even by Sharn standards, with a neckline that plunges almost to the navel and slits on either side rising slightly above the waist. The effect is somewhat spoilt by the expanse of dead, dried flesh it now serves to reveal. “She has a thing for little red dresses.”
Besides indicating her nature as a fashion victim, the light of Emrena’s banner also serves to reveal that each of the wyverns bears three or four mail-clad humans wearing the distinctive half-face helmets and tabards of the Emerald Claw. Two of them also carry an undead creature looking like a nearly skeletal corpse, with a large cartilaginous tongue that lashes the air before it. The last wyvern, bearing the lich, also carries three men in full plate, one of whom has a full-face helm carved like a skull. “Arkhandus!” says Maddox. “No surprise there. He’s her husband. A priest. Just as powerful.”
“Better and better,” grits Malkom, who has been listening. “I’m more interested in how we can avoid their acquaintance.” Even as he speaks, the airship’s two ballistae fire. One misses, but the other – aimed by Zoey – hits a wyvern right in the middle of its chest, the barbed metal bolt cleanly punching through undead flesh. The target shudders, causing its riders to grab desperately at the harness looped around its torso, and then resumes its flight towards the Serenity, ignoring the large wooden shaft sticking out of its chest. The flight of arrows and bolts from the defenders has even less visible effect.
“Damn!” yells Zoey. “Get the explosive ammo!” While the loaders pull new bolts, these marked with red starbursts, out and load them into the ballistae, she shouts to her husband, “Wash – how about getting us out of here?”
Wash doesn’t answer, but a second later, the airship completes its surprisingly fast turn and begins to pull away at an angle. “See!” the pilot calls back. “Piece of cake!” Then he pauses. “Hey – am I the only one who hears…”
“No!” shouts Malkom, running to the rail and looking over, but seeing only darkness and wisps of mist below, with the indistinct shape of the forest five hundred feet below. “There’s someone below us!”
A second later, the sounds of spellcasting – muffled by the bulk of the airship between the caster and those on deck – cease. As, with a sound no louder than that of a soft sigh, does the soft crackling of the ring of elemental fire that surrounds the airship and propels it forward. The Serenity jerks violently as its only motive force ceases to operate, and even though it continues forward, it is rapidly slowing.
Six, a step behind Malkom, adroitly balances himself and stays on his feet, but loud thumps and the sounds of cursing rise around him as others roll around the deck. A surprised Maddox almost takes Malkom off his feet, but the furious captain barely notices, as he yells, “My ship! Who’s the bastard screwing with my ship?!” He throws Six a glance. “Where the hell are your friends?”
The warforged silently points at the main hatchway, from beneath which a loud clanging sound and the sounds of imprecations in multiple tongues – one of them an amusingly falsetto one – has just indicated that the other Angels were almost outside when the sudden stop occurred. A second later, four slightly bruised adventurers make their appearance. There is no time for detailed explanations, but one look at the oncoming wyverns, now rapidly overhauling the slowing Serenity, tells them all that is needed.
“Why’d we stop?” asks Nameless, while quickly throwing up a protective spell.
“Someone below us just dismissed my elemental. How about you guys get down there and find out who?!”
“Looks like we’ve got slightly more immediate issues,” says Korm, following Nameless’ lead. “Wish I had a few more spells left.”
“Yes,” says Maddox, grimly eyeing the nearing wyverns. “Their timing was perfect. Too perfect.” He unsheathes his sword. “Time to make them regret it.”
As the wyverns swoop in on the airship from behind and above, as well as slightly to port, Zoey and Jayne fire their ballistae. Each bolt smashes into a wyvern and the magical runes on them trigger, exploding into fireballs. One of the targets, the previously wounded one, literally explodes into large, flaming undead chunks which plummet into the darkness. Its burned and screaming riders begin to descend more slowly, evidently possessing feather fall tokens. The other wyvern lurches violently, one of its wings withering under the blast, and two of its riders also lose their hold and fall. But the magical fly spell keeping it aloft allows it to right itself and continue.
Another volley of arrows, some of them flaming or showing signs of magical properties, rises to meet the wyverns, but no more go down. The riders unleash a withering response. Two javelins which expand in mid-flight into bolts of lightning, two flaming beads that explode into fireballs, and a pair of small globes that explode with concussive force sweep the airship’s decks, badly wounding the waiting soldiers. Though the Angels and veterans like Maddox and Malkom shrug of the majority of the damage, almost all of them are wounded.
Four of the riders, including Emrena and Arkhandus, cast sound burst spells as the wyverns swoop over the deck, taking down a couple of the already wounded soldiers, and more importantly, leaving many defenseless and unarmed as weapons slip from stunned hands. With cries of triumph, the Emerald Claw leap from their mounts, floating quickly to the deck without mishap due to their tokens and attacking whoever they find nearby. Though somewhat outnumbered by the defenders, their preceding spell assault makes it easy for them to sweep through the opposition, especially when the wyverns too descend, bowling over multiple defenders at a time with their sheer bulk. In seconds, the bodies of multiple Karrnathis and Brelanders litter the deck.
Maddox, on the verge of rushing into the melee, hesitates and frowns. “That’s not Emrena! She’s a wizard, not a priest.”
Nameless, his hands moving in the gestures of a spell, says, “Whoever she is, there’s an illusion on her. Among other things.” As he completes his spell, three giant insects appear among the attackers and begin to trample those in their path. A second later, a huge elemental from Luna joins the giant fire beetles, methodically beginning to pound an undead wyvern apart.
As the others are about to join in, Six – who has remained at the rail swigging a potion– says, “Someone’s attacking the struts!” Malkom emits a furious howl as those nearby hear pounding sounds and the creak of tortured wood coming from below the airship. “I told you guys to get down there! If the strut goes, the elemental can’t propel the ship – and it may damage it.”
“Fine,” says Six and rises into the air, flying over the rail and down, his armor of shadows streaming of slightly in his wake.
“Go after him,” calls Gareth to the others, even as he engages one of the Emerald Claw soldiers. “We’ve got things under control here.”
“All right.” Nameless, Korm and Luna take to the air in various ways and proceed to do so.
* * *
As he cautiously descends, Six readies his longbow and selects one of the many elementally-infused magical arrows that he had purchased in Sharn. Using the elemental strut for cover and coming around the bulge of the airship’s side, he quickly scans the two figures standing upside down on the underside of the hull, magically ignoring the pull of gravity. One looks exactly the same as the figure Maddox had identified as Emrena the Red, and the other similarly mirrors Arkhandus.
Now that he is closer at hand, Six sees that the man is tall and slim, with desiccated skin, at least wherever his face is revealed through the skull helm that tops his gray, full-plate armor decorated with Emerald Claw sigils. One clenched hand is sheathed in a black spiked gauntlet, and as he hammers a fist into the base of the strut he is standing beside, the wood splinters and cracks easily, revealing the adamantine nature of his glove.
His companion, standing calmly and glancing around with a fixed smile on her lips, catches sight of Six even as the first arrow leaves his bow, and her warning cry and answering spell come a second too late. Even as Six shudders at the painful impact of two scorching rays and barely dodges a third, he sees his target scowl and pull the bloody arrowhead from his side. “Guys!” the warforged shouts, dodging back behind the strut, “We got the real Emrena and Arkhandus down here!”
“Yes, you do,” calls a dry and cold voice in return. “We are here for your princess. Give her to us and you may yet l…”
Even though he cannot see her face, Six grins inwardly as the speaker suddenly falls silent, and then hurriedly begins to cast a spell. Evidently, even a lich can be distracted by the sight of a huge flying bear, a large orc with a pair of cloak-like wings growing from his shoulders, and a cold-eyed man with a tentacle in the place of one arm swooping down towards her.
As Six hears the blast of a flame strike going off nearby, he swoops out again, another arrow nocked and ready to fly.
* * *
Above, the battle is still in the balance, but swinging slowly towards the defenders. The shock of the initial onslaught quickly passes, and even though it has left the defenders initially outnumbered, the summoned reinforcements from Nameless and Luna are more than evening the odds. And while the Emerald Claw soldiers and clerics are all battle-hardened veterans of the Last War, buoyed on the dark waves of fanaticism, none of them are a match one-to-one for the captain and crew of the Serenity, let alone Maddox and Gareth. The bone knight is not far beyond the paladin of the Silver Flame in martial prowess, and the unlikely pair scythe through the enemy.
Gareth hews the head off an unfortunate soldier and lets the momentum carry the Endless Blade, which is spewing a litany of threats and curses, into the side of the next man so deeply that it severs his spine. The expression on the face of a third soldier, indicating that he fully expects to die instantly, changes suddenly. Realizing something is up, Gareth begins to spin around, but something smashes into his back and a crushing weight drives him to the deck. The paladin spins in mid-fall, hitting on his side and rolling as he does, but he comes to a halt immediately as a huge, clawed foot pins him down. The undead wyvern, half its face torn away by one of the exploding ballistae, looks down at him with one good eye and then slams its tail down. Even though the stinger is missing, withered in the process of zombification, it still functions perfectly well as a huge bludgeon, and with Gareth unable to do more than desperately twist away only his armor keeps it from caving in his torso.
Even as the paladin tries to respond, a face appears over his upturned one. It resembles that of a skeleton, but two lurid red lights gleam in the eye sockets, and a large purple appendage, more akin to a tentacle than a tongue, lashes back and forth hungrily. The mohrg drops quickly to its knees, grabbing Gareth’s helmeted head with its inhumanly powerful skeletal hands, and the tongue licks out all over his face, streaming a glutinous slime all over it. The creature chortles as its prey struggles instinctively, knowing that the paralytic saliva will do its work instantly.
The mohrg’s glee increases momentarily as the human stops moving, and then stops, as it realizes that is only because he is grinning up at it. Lacking a brow that it could furrow, it only has time for a puzzled “Huh?” before Gareth’s left hand lashes up and locks shut around its tongue. He pulls forward with strength that matches the mohrg’s and feels the Endless Blade shrink to the size he telepathically commands. As the now frantic mohrg tries to pull away, Gareth ignores the attacks of the wyvern and raises the saw-toothed dagger now in his hand. He growls, “I’m a paladin of the Flame. And on the first date, I don’t … do … tongue!” The dagger rises and slashes sideways, and the mohrg falls back, trying but failing to howl, since it has left most of its tongue in Gareth’s grasp.
“As for you …!” Gareth flings away the tongue and slashes again, severing two of the clawed toes holding him down, and leaps to his feet. As the wyvern lurches forward, now snapping its malformed head at him, he calls on the Silver Flame and swings. The dagger transforms in mid-air into the curved falchion that he now prefers to wield the Endless Blade as, which neatly takes the wyvern’s head off its long neck. Gareth sidesteps and turns even before the corpse falls, to see Maddox standing over the tongueless mohrg’s body.
“Sorry – was a little busy,” says the bone knight, succinctly, indicating a man lying nearby in a pool of gore. Beside him lies his hand, still clutching a holy symbol in the shape of an Emerald Claw.
“No problem,” says Gareth, pausing to channel healing energy and seal his wounds.
“Perhaps not for us.” Maddox points forward, where the remaining members of the Emerald Claw, and the surviving three wyverns, have slain most of the summoned creatures and secured some of the deck to themselves. Even now, some of the Emerald Claw are trying to fight their way down the forward hatchway, being resisted by Karrnathi troops, while others try to hold back a counterattack led by Malkom, Zoey and Jayne. As the two holy warriors turn to look, a wyvern smashes its tail right through Jayne’s skull.**
“We could use a little backup. And since we’re stationary…,” Maddox mutters as he pulls a carved bone off his armor and drops it to the deck. There is a burst of grey light and a creature instantly appears beside him. The warhorse turns its head and gazes at its master, emitting a loud neigh. Gareth stares in surprise at the creature, unsure exactly how it does so, considering that it is a skeleton. Even so, it seems quite able to bear a saddle and bridle, and a rider too, as Maddox quickly mounts it. The bone knight clicks under his breath and then yells, “Karrnath!” as the undead mount surges forward, seemingly unhindered by the bodies and blood littering the deck. Startled allies leap out of the way and the two hit like a large metal-and-bone bolt of lightning, smashing multiple enemies off their feet.
“Hey – save some for me!” shouts an aggrieved Gareth, rushing after Maddox.
* * *
Below the ship, things are not going as well for Gareth’s comrades. Six, as usual, is relatively unscathed, staying at a safe distance and sniping away at the pair of enemies as best he can, but Korm and Luna are in the middle of maelstrom of explosive energy as they and Emrena rapidly hurl spells at each other. Nameless too remains at a distance, but the alienist’s reputation has preceded him, and he is targeted much more often than Six is.
The Angels quickly discover that the lich and her lover are both protected against fire and electricity, which drastically reduces the damage they take from the flame strikes and arcs of lightning lashing them. Luckily they have some protections as well, and the battle rapidly becomes a case of each side trying to find a weakness in the other’s considerable defenses.
Korm flies in and slashes viciously at the lich with his sword, swearing in orcish as her resistance to such weapons, linked to her lack of vital organs, blunts an attack that would have killed many giants. Even so, Emrena is hurt, and she screams a curse even as streams of lightning arc from her to the Gatekeeper. Then Luna comes roaring in too, giving Korm a chance to back out and heal himself.
The Gatekeeper flies backwards, placing a hand on his scorched chest and casts a spell. The healing energy wells through his fingers and then, to his shock, simply disappears with no effect. Korm looks around wildly, only to see Arkhandus smile broadly as the livid bruises left on his brow by Nameless’ magic missiles fade away. Somehow, the necromantic priest has stolen Korm’s healing. “Man!” grits the orc, “I really hate you!”***
Arkhandus simply laughs, but it fades away as Emrena stumbles backwards under the sheer weight of Luna’s assault, undead flesh being flayed away by the bear’s huge claws. With a hurried gesture, the priest places a hand on his lover’s back and channels negative energy into her, instantly rectifying the damage done to her in the last few seconds. Whatever few wounds remain disappear as Emrena clamps a near-mummified hand on Luna’s brow and draws away the druid’s health into herself.
That was a Harm he used! thinks Nameless, grateful that it wasn’t used on one of the others. He unleashes a perfectly placed fireball, using his ring to morph it into a sphere of exploding acid, and is rewarded by screams from both the targets. Luna pushes her assault, slowly overcoming the lich’s resistances through sheer strength and persistence. Flying sideways with a flap of his large wings to get the perfect angle, Korm hurls his sword. The meteoric blade blazes through the air, slicing both Emrena and Arkhandus, before returning to his hand. Lacking the lich’s unloving nature, the priest cries out at the impact and hurriedly lays his hands on his wound, partially reknitting the torn flesh and muscles.
With an angry hiss, Emrena steps back and casts, sending a darkly crackling ray at the Gatekeeper. The beam hits Korm in the face and his eyes momentarily roll backwards in his head as he feels the life-draining negative energy momentarily permeate his body. Though he resists the killing effect, which nobody on board besides the Angels and perhaps Maddox could have, he is badly wounded, his skin turning ashen under the onslaught. More worryingly, the beam strips his mind of not one, not two, but eight**** of the most powerful spells.
Korm shudders violently and shouts, “Luna – I could really use a cocoon!” Reflexively, he casts the most powerful cure spell he has remaining, and then curses violently, as Arkhandus again somehow redirects the healing energy. “NOW, Luna!” he yells frantically.
Nameless too curses, but mentally. All of them are wounded, Korm near critically, and the damn cleric seems able to constantly keep healing himself and his undead girlfriend. It’s time for the big one! The alienist gestures and pronounces a string of words, ones that he has lovingly practiced but never had reason to use before. Somehow, the arcane syllables ring out clearly even over the noises of the battle on the deck, the angry growl of Luna as she rises towards Korm, the twang of Six’s bow. Nameless feels a sudden pang in his chest as some of his life energy is stripped away to power the spell. Unusually sonorously, he says, “I wish that Emrena be unable to resist my next spell!” There is a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air around Nameless, as the limited wish temporarily mutates the nature of reality around him.
This time it is the lich that shouts frantically, as she deciphers his spell. “Arkhandus! Kill him – now!” Her skeletal hand moves in a quick gesture and a small orb, its glowing green flames empowered for increased virulence, leaps forth to smash into Nameless’ chest. The previously wounded alienist shudders violently at the impact, only the protective spells he had cast earlier keeping him still alive. But he has no protection against the next attack.
Even without Emrena’s cry, Arkhandus had recognized Nameless’ spell and marked him as their new primary target. He turns, not even bothering to acknowledge the arrow from Six which buries itself in his shoulder, and flies forward, pronouncing words of necromantic power as he comes. Still reeling from Emrena’s attack, Nameless has no chance to dodge, and Arkhandus’ mailed fist – now glowing with dark green flames – slams into his chest.
As Six, Luna and Korm (now temporarily safe inside Luna’s last cocoon) watch in horror, Nameless cries out involuntarily, the pain of cracking ribs subsumed beneath the agony of Arkhandus’ slay living spell. And darkness takes him – metaphorically and otherwise. As he stops moving, Nameless’ overland flight spell no longer has effect, and the alienist’s body plummets like a stone, disappearing into the darkness below.
While Korm and Six struggle to decide what to do next, Luna responds precipitously as ever. She instantly ceases to use her own fly spell and drops after Nameless like a stone, albeit a giant, hairy – and currently loudly swearing – one. The last thing she hears behind her are twin cries of triumph from Emrena and Arkhandus and the desperate twanging of Six’s bow.
As the air rushes up past her falling form, Luna catches sight of Nameless’ falling body just ahead of her and angles her bulk towards him. The distance between them drops quickly, but Luna has only seconds to work with, and even as she desperately stretches herself, she realizes that they will hit the ground before she can touch him. But after the visit to the Fleshweaver, she has certain advantages she did not possess earlier. Luna activates a cure spell with a growl and a gesture and then her tongue shoots out to an incredible length. It slaps wetly against Nameless’ shoulder and the positive energy pours into him.
Luckily for the success of Luna’s insanely heroic attempt and her future opportunity to forever remind the other Angels of it, Nameless is still – if barely – alive. He had managed to stave off the killing effect of Arkhandus’ spell, but the damage it caused had pushed him over the edge of consciousness. His eyes snap open to the sight of a dark forest rushing up at him, and then what feels like a thick, wet tentacle wraps around his shoulder and jerks him violently upwards even as he drops below the level of the highest boughs. A second later, he is hanging onto Luna’s fur as she soars back upwards towards the airship hanging hundreds of feet above them. Despite the feeling that she has dislocated both tongue and jaw with the effort of flipping him onto her back, Luna quickly mumbles an explanation.
Far above, Emrena and Arkhandus float upwards toward the bubble that surrounds Korm, anticipatory grins on their faces. Unable to flee or do much else, the Gatekeeper hurriedly casts his last healing spell, causing the pair’s smiles to only broaden. Another arrow from Six whizzes by, causing Arkhandus to respond with a ray of enfeeblement that temporarily robs the warforged of his strength. With a mental sigh of resignation, Six stows away the bow and draws his chain, preparing to fly in and join Korm in a last-ditch attempt.
Ignoring Six, Emrena momentarily holds Korm’s gaze, withered and near-fleshless lips curled back from gray teeth, and then casts. A second before the healing power of the cocoon can do its work, the translucent shell shimmers and fades away. The Gatekeeper takes a deep breath, hefts his sword and charges. The lich gestures calmly, ribbons of darkly purple energy wreathing her fingers, knowing that she will blast his weakened form apart before he can ever hope to reach her.
And her lover looks past her and shouts a warning. Startled, Emrena looks back and down, to see Luna’s massive form rising out of the darkness, fur glinting silver in the light of Rhaan. A slim figure crouches low on the bear’s back, a brilliant green beam shooting forth from his extended finger.
As Nameless’ disintegrate – empowered by the ring recovered from the Demon Wastes – shoots upwards and strikes Emrena, the air shimmers around her, the alienist’s previously cast spell stripping away whatever little chance she had of resisting it. Undead skin and bone melt away and an ironically emerald glow envelops the lich’s form as the spell begins to reduce her to dust. Emrena screams.
The scream is echoed by her lover. With her impending dissolution banishing all thought from his mind, Arkhandus panics and – forgetting that Emrena’s nature as a lich means she will eventually reform from bodily destruction – reflexively shouts a word, commanding the band around his throat to do its work. The jet-black torc****, crafted in the form of two clasped hands, flashes momentarily and the green glow around Emrena winks out, only to appear around him. It is a desperate, loving and heroic act.
And completely fatal. At the best of times and with all protective spells intact, Arkhandus would have been hard-pressed to survive the horrific damage Nameless’ spell causes. Now, bearing the wounds of battle, he has absolutely no chance. His eyes bulge in agony and he reaches towards Emrena one last time – and then he explodes into dust, his armor and possessions tumbling away as no body remains to support them.
The lich screams again, attempting to shut her now-lidless eyes against the sight, and then whirls in mid-air to face Nameless and Luna, leathery lips curling in a wordless snarl. For a moment she raises a hand, prepared to try and blast them out of existence. But then, something makes her pause. She sighs wordlessly and changes the spell she was about to cast. The last thing the Angels hear as she disappears, teleporting away, is a threat and a promise – “Not yet!”
As the cocoon melts away, a rejuvenated Korm flaps towards Luna and Nameless, Six following cautiously not far behind. “How the hell did you do that, Luna?” the Gatekeeeper queries. “I thought Nameless was a goner for sure.”
The bear chortles. “It’s my new combat maneuver – the quicken licken.” But then she looks down, eyes gleaming with cupidity as she sees one of Arkhandus’ falling rings glint faintly in the moonlight. “Ooh – shiny!” Without a word, she turns and dives headlong after it.
As she disappears again into the darkness, her rider’s calm – but slightly plaintive – cry floats back up to Korm and Six. “Dammit, Luna – let me get oooooo…”
* See – I did get snakes on an airship!
** Someone commented that if Jayne survived the battle the PCs would kill him themselves
*** Actually the player said that to me
**** Critted him with an enervation and then rolled max damage
***** Torc of Heroic Sacrifice, from the MIC.
* * * * * * * * * *
As Malkom shouts his warning, Maddox – who has remained on deck throughout the night – strides swiftly back towards the helm to join the captain and Six. While doing so, he shouts orders to the half dozen Karrnathi soldiers on the current watch, who rush towards the two port-side ballistae and begin to turn them toward the attackers. More soldiers, some Karrnathi and some of the Brelish complement of the airship, begin to hurry onto the deck too and scatter to take up their positions. The door to the pilot’s quarters behind Mal open as a partly-clad Wash and Zoey hurry out, the pilot grabbing the wheel at Mal’s command while his wife rushes to the nearest ballista, yelling for Jayne as she goes.
The wyverns, meanwhile, are swiftly moving closer, far faster than the leisurely motion of their tattered wings would indicate. Maddox says, “The bastards are flying too fast for zombies. They’re using some form of magic.”
“Well, it’s not going to be fast enough! Wash – get us out of here!”
“Sure, Mal,” says the pilot with a smile, spinning the wheel hard to starboard. “I am a leaf on th…,” he begins, before Mal growls, “You say that one more time and I throw you overboard!” Wash grimaces and falls silent, focusing on steering the ship. The Serenity responds with surprising speed, beginning to heel away from the attackers.
As it is does so, one of the men on the furthest wyvern unfurls a second, smaller banner beneath the large one bearing the insignia of the Emerald Claw. This one depicts a skeletal hand horizontally holding a red snake* and sheds a dim light around it, the color of dried blood. The lurid radiance spreads quickly, like a growing flame, more clearly illumining the figures below it. Six’s eyes are immediately drawn to one who sits on what appears to be a stool implanted onto the wyvern’s back, due to the desiccated and almost skeletal head, with flesh pulled tight over it. Maddox evidently knows it, since he draws a sudden breath and then says, “Emrena the Red! So she’s alive – and a lich!”
“Friend of yours?”
“Not exactly,” he replies flatly. “She was a well-known necromancer in the Emerald Claw and did some great work for Karrnath during the War. She disappeared when it became a terrorist organization, and I had no idea she was still alive. Well – not alive, I see!”
“Emrena the Red? Is that because she is bloodthirsty?”
“No,” says the bone knight, pointing at the figure’s clothing, which Six now notes consists of a red dinner dress which would be considered quite daring even by Sharn standards, with a neckline that plunges almost to the navel and slits on either side rising slightly above the waist. The effect is somewhat spoilt by the expanse of dead, dried flesh it now serves to reveal. “She has a thing for little red dresses.”
Besides indicating her nature as a fashion victim, the light of Emrena’s banner also serves to reveal that each of the wyverns bears three or four mail-clad humans wearing the distinctive half-face helmets and tabards of the Emerald Claw. Two of them also carry an undead creature looking like a nearly skeletal corpse, with a large cartilaginous tongue that lashes the air before it. The last wyvern, bearing the lich, also carries three men in full plate, one of whom has a full-face helm carved like a skull. “Arkhandus!” says Maddox. “No surprise there. He’s her husband. A priest. Just as powerful.”
“Better and better,” grits Malkom, who has been listening. “I’m more interested in how we can avoid their acquaintance.” Even as he speaks, the airship’s two ballistae fire. One misses, but the other – aimed by Zoey – hits a wyvern right in the middle of its chest, the barbed metal bolt cleanly punching through undead flesh. The target shudders, causing its riders to grab desperately at the harness looped around its torso, and then resumes its flight towards the Serenity, ignoring the large wooden shaft sticking out of its chest. The flight of arrows and bolts from the defenders has even less visible effect.
“Damn!” yells Zoey. “Get the explosive ammo!” While the loaders pull new bolts, these marked with red starbursts, out and load them into the ballistae, she shouts to her husband, “Wash – how about getting us out of here?”
Wash doesn’t answer, but a second later, the airship completes its surprisingly fast turn and begins to pull away at an angle. “See!” the pilot calls back. “Piece of cake!” Then he pauses. “Hey – am I the only one who hears…”
“No!” shouts Malkom, running to the rail and looking over, but seeing only darkness and wisps of mist below, with the indistinct shape of the forest five hundred feet below. “There’s someone below us!”
A second later, the sounds of spellcasting – muffled by the bulk of the airship between the caster and those on deck – cease. As, with a sound no louder than that of a soft sigh, does the soft crackling of the ring of elemental fire that surrounds the airship and propels it forward. The Serenity jerks violently as its only motive force ceases to operate, and even though it continues forward, it is rapidly slowing.
Six, a step behind Malkom, adroitly balances himself and stays on his feet, but loud thumps and the sounds of cursing rise around him as others roll around the deck. A surprised Maddox almost takes Malkom off his feet, but the furious captain barely notices, as he yells, “My ship! Who’s the bastard screwing with my ship?!” He throws Six a glance. “Where the hell are your friends?”
The warforged silently points at the main hatchway, from beneath which a loud clanging sound and the sounds of imprecations in multiple tongues – one of them an amusingly falsetto one – has just indicated that the other Angels were almost outside when the sudden stop occurred. A second later, four slightly bruised adventurers make their appearance. There is no time for detailed explanations, but one look at the oncoming wyverns, now rapidly overhauling the slowing Serenity, tells them all that is needed.
“Why’d we stop?” asks Nameless, while quickly throwing up a protective spell.
“Someone below us just dismissed my elemental. How about you guys get down there and find out who?!”
“Looks like we’ve got slightly more immediate issues,” says Korm, following Nameless’ lead. “Wish I had a few more spells left.”
“Yes,” says Maddox, grimly eyeing the nearing wyverns. “Their timing was perfect. Too perfect.” He unsheathes his sword. “Time to make them regret it.”
As the wyverns swoop in on the airship from behind and above, as well as slightly to port, Zoey and Jayne fire their ballistae. Each bolt smashes into a wyvern and the magical runes on them trigger, exploding into fireballs. One of the targets, the previously wounded one, literally explodes into large, flaming undead chunks which plummet into the darkness. Its burned and screaming riders begin to descend more slowly, evidently possessing feather fall tokens. The other wyvern lurches violently, one of its wings withering under the blast, and two of its riders also lose their hold and fall. But the magical fly spell keeping it aloft allows it to right itself and continue.
Another volley of arrows, some of them flaming or showing signs of magical properties, rises to meet the wyverns, but no more go down. The riders unleash a withering response. Two javelins which expand in mid-flight into bolts of lightning, two flaming beads that explode into fireballs, and a pair of small globes that explode with concussive force sweep the airship’s decks, badly wounding the waiting soldiers. Though the Angels and veterans like Maddox and Malkom shrug of the majority of the damage, almost all of them are wounded.
Four of the riders, including Emrena and Arkhandus, cast sound burst spells as the wyverns swoop over the deck, taking down a couple of the already wounded soldiers, and more importantly, leaving many defenseless and unarmed as weapons slip from stunned hands. With cries of triumph, the Emerald Claw leap from their mounts, floating quickly to the deck without mishap due to their tokens and attacking whoever they find nearby. Though somewhat outnumbered by the defenders, their preceding spell assault makes it easy for them to sweep through the opposition, especially when the wyverns too descend, bowling over multiple defenders at a time with their sheer bulk. In seconds, the bodies of multiple Karrnathis and Brelanders litter the deck.
Maddox, on the verge of rushing into the melee, hesitates and frowns. “That’s not Emrena! She’s a wizard, not a priest.”
Nameless, his hands moving in the gestures of a spell, says, “Whoever she is, there’s an illusion on her. Among other things.” As he completes his spell, three giant insects appear among the attackers and begin to trample those in their path. A second later, a huge elemental from Luna joins the giant fire beetles, methodically beginning to pound an undead wyvern apart.
As the others are about to join in, Six – who has remained at the rail swigging a potion– says, “Someone’s attacking the struts!” Malkom emits a furious howl as those nearby hear pounding sounds and the creak of tortured wood coming from below the airship. “I told you guys to get down there! If the strut goes, the elemental can’t propel the ship – and it may damage it.”
“Fine,” says Six and rises into the air, flying over the rail and down, his armor of shadows streaming of slightly in his wake.
“Go after him,” calls Gareth to the others, even as he engages one of the Emerald Claw soldiers. “We’ve got things under control here.”
“All right.” Nameless, Korm and Luna take to the air in various ways and proceed to do so.
* * *
As he cautiously descends, Six readies his longbow and selects one of the many elementally-infused magical arrows that he had purchased in Sharn. Using the elemental strut for cover and coming around the bulge of the airship’s side, he quickly scans the two figures standing upside down on the underside of the hull, magically ignoring the pull of gravity. One looks exactly the same as the figure Maddox had identified as Emrena the Red, and the other similarly mirrors Arkhandus.
Now that he is closer at hand, Six sees that the man is tall and slim, with desiccated skin, at least wherever his face is revealed through the skull helm that tops his gray, full-plate armor decorated with Emerald Claw sigils. One clenched hand is sheathed in a black spiked gauntlet, and as he hammers a fist into the base of the strut he is standing beside, the wood splinters and cracks easily, revealing the adamantine nature of his glove.
His companion, standing calmly and glancing around with a fixed smile on her lips, catches sight of Six even as the first arrow leaves his bow, and her warning cry and answering spell come a second too late. Even as Six shudders at the painful impact of two scorching rays and barely dodges a third, he sees his target scowl and pull the bloody arrowhead from his side. “Guys!” the warforged shouts, dodging back behind the strut, “We got the real Emrena and Arkhandus down here!”
“Yes, you do,” calls a dry and cold voice in return. “We are here for your princess. Give her to us and you may yet l…”
Even though he cannot see her face, Six grins inwardly as the speaker suddenly falls silent, and then hurriedly begins to cast a spell. Evidently, even a lich can be distracted by the sight of a huge flying bear, a large orc with a pair of cloak-like wings growing from his shoulders, and a cold-eyed man with a tentacle in the place of one arm swooping down towards her.
As Six hears the blast of a flame strike going off nearby, he swoops out again, another arrow nocked and ready to fly.
* * *
Above, the battle is still in the balance, but swinging slowly towards the defenders. The shock of the initial onslaught quickly passes, and even though it has left the defenders initially outnumbered, the summoned reinforcements from Nameless and Luna are more than evening the odds. And while the Emerald Claw soldiers and clerics are all battle-hardened veterans of the Last War, buoyed on the dark waves of fanaticism, none of them are a match one-to-one for the captain and crew of the Serenity, let alone Maddox and Gareth. The bone knight is not far beyond the paladin of the Silver Flame in martial prowess, and the unlikely pair scythe through the enemy.
Gareth hews the head off an unfortunate soldier and lets the momentum carry the Endless Blade, which is spewing a litany of threats and curses, into the side of the next man so deeply that it severs his spine. The expression on the face of a third soldier, indicating that he fully expects to die instantly, changes suddenly. Realizing something is up, Gareth begins to spin around, but something smashes into his back and a crushing weight drives him to the deck. The paladin spins in mid-fall, hitting on his side and rolling as he does, but he comes to a halt immediately as a huge, clawed foot pins him down. The undead wyvern, half its face torn away by one of the exploding ballistae, looks down at him with one good eye and then slams its tail down. Even though the stinger is missing, withered in the process of zombification, it still functions perfectly well as a huge bludgeon, and with Gareth unable to do more than desperately twist away only his armor keeps it from caving in his torso.
Even as the paladin tries to respond, a face appears over his upturned one. It resembles that of a skeleton, but two lurid red lights gleam in the eye sockets, and a large purple appendage, more akin to a tentacle than a tongue, lashes back and forth hungrily. The mohrg drops quickly to its knees, grabbing Gareth’s helmeted head with its inhumanly powerful skeletal hands, and the tongue licks out all over his face, streaming a glutinous slime all over it. The creature chortles as its prey struggles instinctively, knowing that the paralytic saliva will do its work instantly.
The mohrg’s glee increases momentarily as the human stops moving, and then stops, as it realizes that is only because he is grinning up at it. Lacking a brow that it could furrow, it only has time for a puzzled “Huh?” before Gareth’s left hand lashes up and locks shut around its tongue. He pulls forward with strength that matches the mohrg’s and feels the Endless Blade shrink to the size he telepathically commands. As the now frantic mohrg tries to pull away, Gareth ignores the attacks of the wyvern and raises the saw-toothed dagger now in his hand. He growls, “I’m a paladin of the Flame. And on the first date, I don’t … do … tongue!” The dagger rises and slashes sideways, and the mohrg falls back, trying but failing to howl, since it has left most of its tongue in Gareth’s grasp.
“As for you …!” Gareth flings away the tongue and slashes again, severing two of the clawed toes holding him down, and leaps to his feet. As the wyvern lurches forward, now snapping its malformed head at him, he calls on the Silver Flame and swings. The dagger transforms in mid-air into the curved falchion that he now prefers to wield the Endless Blade as, which neatly takes the wyvern’s head off its long neck. Gareth sidesteps and turns even before the corpse falls, to see Maddox standing over the tongueless mohrg’s body.
“Sorry – was a little busy,” says the bone knight, succinctly, indicating a man lying nearby in a pool of gore. Beside him lies his hand, still clutching a holy symbol in the shape of an Emerald Claw.
“No problem,” says Gareth, pausing to channel healing energy and seal his wounds.
“Perhaps not for us.” Maddox points forward, where the remaining members of the Emerald Claw, and the surviving three wyverns, have slain most of the summoned creatures and secured some of the deck to themselves. Even now, some of the Emerald Claw are trying to fight their way down the forward hatchway, being resisted by Karrnathi troops, while others try to hold back a counterattack led by Malkom, Zoey and Jayne. As the two holy warriors turn to look, a wyvern smashes its tail right through Jayne’s skull.**
“We could use a little backup. And since we’re stationary…,” Maddox mutters as he pulls a carved bone off his armor and drops it to the deck. There is a burst of grey light and a creature instantly appears beside him. The warhorse turns its head and gazes at its master, emitting a loud neigh. Gareth stares in surprise at the creature, unsure exactly how it does so, considering that it is a skeleton. Even so, it seems quite able to bear a saddle and bridle, and a rider too, as Maddox quickly mounts it. The bone knight clicks under his breath and then yells, “Karrnath!” as the undead mount surges forward, seemingly unhindered by the bodies and blood littering the deck. Startled allies leap out of the way and the two hit like a large metal-and-bone bolt of lightning, smashing multiple enemies off their feet.
“Hey – save some for me!” shouts an aggrieved Gareth, rushing after Maddox.
* * *
Below the ship, things are not going as well for Gareth’s comrades. Six, as usual, is relatively unscathed, staying at a safe distance and sniping away at the pair of enemies as best he can, but Korm and Luna are in the middle of maelstrom of explosive energy as they and Emrena rapidly hurl spells at each other. Nameless too remains at a distance, but the alienist’s reputation has preceded him, and he is targeted much more often than Six is.
The Angels quickly discover that the lich and her lover are both protected against fire and electricity, which drastically reduces the damage they take from the flame strikes and arcs of lightning lashing them. Luckily they have some protections as well, and the battle rapidly becomes a case of each side trying to find a weakness in the other’s considerable defenses.
Korm flies in and slashes viciously at the lich with his sword, swearing in orcish as her resistance to such weapons, linked to her lack of vital organs, blunts an attack that would have killed many giants. Even so, Emrena is hurt, and she screams a curse even as streams of lightning arc from her to the Gatekeeper. Then Luna comes roaring in too, giving Korm a chance to back out and heal himself.
The Gatekeeper flies backwards, placing a hand on his scorched chest and casts a spell. The healing energy wells through his fingers and then, to his shock, simply disappears with no effect. Korm looks around wildly, only to see Arkhandus smile broadly as the livid bruises left on his brow by Nameless’ magic missiles fade away. Somehow, the necromantic priest has stolen Korm’s healing. “Man!” grits the orc, “I really hate you!”***
Arkhandus simply laughs, but it fades away as Emrena stumbles backwards under the sheer weight of Luna’s assault, undead flesh being flayed away by the bear’s huge claws. With a hurried gesture, the priest places a hand on his lover’s back and channels negative energy into her, instantly rectifying the damage done to her in the last few seconds. Whatever few wounds remain disappear as Emrena clamps a near-mummified hand on Luna’s brow and draws away the druid’s health into herself.
That was a Harm he used! thinks Nameless, grateful that it wasn’t used on one of the others. He unleashes a perfectly placed fireball, using his ring to morph it into a sphere of exploding acid, and is rewarded by screams from both the targets. Luna pushes her assault, slowly overcoming the lich’s resistances through sheer strength and persistence. Flying sideways with a flap of his large wings to get the perfect angle, Korm hurls his sword. The meteoric blade blazes through the air, slicing both Emrena and Arkhandus, before returning to his hand. Lacking the lich’s unloving nature, the priest cries out at the impact and hurriedly lays his hands on his wound, partially reknitting the torn flesh and muscles.
With an angry hiss, Emrena steps back and casts, sending a darkly crackling ray at the Gatekeeper. The beam hits Korm in the face and his eyes momentarily roll backwards in his head as he feels the life-draining negative energy momentarily permeate his body. Though he resists the killing effect, which nobody on board besides the Angels and perhaps Maddox could have, he is badly wounded, his skin turning ashen under the onslaught. More worryingly, the beam strips his mind of not one, not two, but eight**** of the most powerful spells.
Korm shudders violently and shouts, “Luna – I could really use a cocoon!” Reflexively, he casts the most powerful cure spell he has remaining, and then curses violently, as Arkhandus again somehow redirects the healing energy. “NOW, Luna!” he yells frantically.
Nameless too curses, but mentally. All of them are wounded, Korm near critically, and the damn cleric seems able to constantly keep healing himself and his undead girlfriend. It’s time for the big one! The alienist gestures and pronounces a string of words, ones that he has lovingly practiced but never had reason to use before. Somehow, the arcane syllables ring out clearly even over the noises of the battle on the deck, the angry growl of Luna as she rises towards Korm, the twang of Six’s bow. Nameless feels a sudden pang in his chest as some of his life energy is stripped away to power the spell. Unusually sonorously, he says, “I wish that Emrena be unable to resist my next spell!” There is a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer in the air around Nameless, as the limited wish temporarily mutates the nature of reality around him.
This time it is the lich that shouts frantically, as she deciphers his spell. “Arkhandus! Kill him – now!” Her skeletal hand moves in a quick gesture and a small orb, its glowing green flames empowered for increased virulence, leaps forth to smash into Nameless’ chest. The previously wounded alienist shudders violently at the impact, only the protective spells he had cast earlier keeping him still alive. But he has no protection against the next attack.
Even without Emrena’s cry, Arkhandus had recognized Nameless’ spell and marked him as their new primary target. He turns, not even bothering to acknowledge the arrow from Six which buries itself in his shoulder, and flies forward, pronouncing words of necromantic power as he comes. Still reeling from Emrena’s attack, Nameless has no chance to dodge, and Arkhandus’ mailed fist – now glowing with dark green flames – slams into his chest.
As Six, Luna and Korm (now temporarily safe inside Luna’s last cocoon) watch in horror, Nameless cries out involuntarily, the pain of cracking ribs subsumed beneath the agony of Arkhandus’ slay living spell. And darkness takes him – metaphorically and otherwise. As he stops moving, Nameless’ overland flight spell no longer has effect, and the alienist’s body plummets like a stone, disappearing into the darkness below.
While Korm and Six struggle to decide what to do next, Luna responds precipitously as ever. She instantly ceases to use her own fly spell and drops after Nameless like a stone, albeit a giant, hairy – and currently loudly swearing – one. The last thing she hears behind her are twin cries of triumph from Emrena and Arkhandus and the desperate twanging of Six’s bow.
As the air rushes up past her falling form, Luna catches sight of Nameless’ falling body just ahead of her and angles her bulk towards him. The distance between them drops quickly, but Luna has only seconds to work with, and even as she desperately stretches herself, she realizes that they will hit the ground before she can touch him. But after the visit to the Fleshweaver, she has certain advantages she did not possess earlier. Luna activates a cure spell with a growl and a gesture and then her tongue shoots out to an incredible length. It slaps wetly against Nameless’ shoulder and the positive energy pours into him.
Luckily for the success of Luna’s insanely heroic attempt and her future opportunity to forever remind the other Angels of it, Nameless is still – if barely – alive. He had managed to stave off the killing effect of Arkhandus’ spell, but the damage it caused had pushed him over the edge of consciousness. His eyes snap open to the sight of a dark forest rushing up at him, and then what feels like a thick, wet tentacle wraps around his shoulder and jerks him violently upwards even as he drops below the level of the highest boughs. A second later, he is hanging onto Luna’s fur as she soars back upwards towards the airship hanging hundreds of feet above them. Despite the feeling that she has dislocated both tongue and jaw with the effort of flipping him onto her back, Luna quickly mumbles an explanation.
Far above, Emrena and Arkhandus float upwards toward the bubble that surrounds Korm, anticipatory grins on their faces. Unable to flee or do much else, the Gatekeeper hurriedly casts his last healing spell, causing the pair’s smiles to only broaden. Another arrow from Six whizzes by, causing Arkhandus to respond with a ray of enfeeblement that temporarily robs the warforged of his strength. With a mental sigh of resignation, Six stows away the bow and draws his chain, preparing to fly in and join Korm in a last-ditch attempt.
Ignoring Six, Emrena momentarily holds Korm’s gaze, withered and near-fleshless lips curled back from gray teeth, and then casts. A second before the healing power of the cocoon can do its work, the translucent shell shimmers and fades away. The Gatekeeper takes a deep breath, hefts his sword and charges. The lich gestures calmly, ribbons of darkly purple energy wreathing her fingers, knowing that she will blast his weakened form apart before he can ever hope to reach her.
And her lover looks past her and shouts a warning. Startled, Emrena looks back and down, to see Luna’s massive form rising out of the darkness, fur glinting silver in the light of Rhaan. A slim figure crouches low on the bear’s back, a brilliant green beam shooting forth from his extended finger.
As Nameless’ disintegrate – empowered by the ring recovered from the Demon Wastes – shoots upwards and strikes Emrena, the air shimmers around her, the alienist’s previously cast spell stripping away whatever little chance she had of resisting it. Undead skin and bone melt away and an ironically emerald glow envelops the lich’s form as the spell begins to reduce her to dust. Emrena screams.
The scream is echoed by her lover. With her impending dissolution banishing all thought from his mind, Arkhandus panics and – forgetting that Emrena’s nature as a lich means she will eventually reform from bodily destruction – reflexively shouts a word, commanding the band around his throat to do its work. The jet-black torc****, crafted in the form of two clasped hands, flashes momentarily and the green glow around Emrena winks out, only to appear around him. It is a desperate, loving and heroic act.
And completely fatal. At the best of times and with all protective spells intact, Arkhandus would have been hard-pressed to survive the horrific damage Nameless’ spell causes. Now, bearing the wounds of battle, he has absolutely no chance. His eyes bulge in agony and he reaches towards Emrena one last time – and then he explodes into dust, his armor and possessions tumbling away as no body remains to support them.
The lich screams again, attempting to shut her now-lidless eyes against the sight, and then whirls in mid-air to face Nameless and Luna, leathery lips curling in a wordless snarl. For a moment she raises a hand, prepared to try and blast them out of existence. But then, something makes her pause. She sighs wordlessly and changes the spell she was about to cast. The last thing the Angels hear as she disappears, teleporting away, is a threat and a promise – “Not yet!”
As the cocoon melts away, a rejuvenated Korm flaps towards Luna and Nameless, Six following cautiously not far behind. “How the hell did you do that, Luna?” the Gatekeeeper queries. “I thought Nameless was a goner for sure.”
The bear chortles. “It’s my new combat maneuver – the quicken licken.” But then she looks down, eyes gleaming with cupidity as she sees one of Arkhandus’ falling rings glint faintly in the moonlight. “Ooh – shiny!” Without a word, she turns and dives headlong after it.
As she disappears again into the darkness, her rider’s calm – but slightly plaintive – cry floats back up to Korm and Six. “Dammit, Luna – let me get oooooo…”
* See – I did get snakes on an airship!
** Someone commented that if Jayne survived the battle the PCs would kill him themselves
*** Actually the player said that to me
**** Critted him with an enervation and then rolled max damage
***** Torc of Heroic Sacrifice, from the MIC.
carborundum
Adventurer
Good grief! I come back from internetless holiday to THAT! It almost makes up for discovering there's a 4th edition after all!
Solarious
Explorer
Sounds like the Emerald Claw really did bring on the pain. I wonder who else they would have wanted to bring to the festivities, if they knew they had Angels to entertain? I really do.
Speaking of which, I don't quite have your custom monster done to my satisfaction yet, but I've got another custom villian you'll definitely be interested in. The forte of this one.... I shouldn't say out loud. This is really too good to let everyone know about right away. Or your players, who might feel entitled to know how much suffering is comming to roost, given the grief you just let them pick up and carry away without warning.
You said before you have a forum where you play out those longer roleplaying sequences, hmn? You get my drift? Gimmie the lock so I can turn the Key!
Speaking of which, I don't quite have your custom monster done to my satisfaction yet, but I've got another custom villian you'll definitely be interested in. The forte of this one.... I shouldn't say out loud. This is really too good to let everyone know about right away. Or your players, who might feel entitled to know how much suffering is comming to roost, given the grief you just let them pick up and carry away without warning.
You said before you have a forum where you play out those longer roleplaying sequences, hmn? You get my drift? Gimmie the lock so I can turn the Key!
Solarious
Explorer
The full context of my statement being that he should put up the site so I can PM him monster and villian stats, which will be read by you if I post them here. I don't want you to know who and what you might face in the future, and I can't PM shil on ENWorld because I don't have a Community Supporter Account.
Solarious said:
Just start a thread in the Plots, Places and Rogues forum. Shil's players are all adults. If there's a thread we're supposed to stay out of, we'll do so.
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