The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #394] Ahh... Magic

The party took in Ayremac's report grimly. The relief with which they had greeted the open air after their experiences in the caves vanished at the holy warrior's news, giving way to a sense of urgency. Only Huzair seemed unaffected by the news. He gathered his belongings at half the speed of the others (rarely letting any of his possessions out of immediate reach in the first place) and voiced his opinion brazenly as the rest broke camp.

"We could lay a trap for him... be all buffed and ready," he suggested looking directly at Morier. The albino was too busy to catch the implication and Huzair continued, unabated. "Perhaps we could perch in the trees, or even Levitate all ready to go. How much of that dust do we have left?" Intrigued by his own ideas, he stopped what he'd been doing and turned his attention to his Haversack.

"If you would like me to fly and scout," Ayremac offered eagerly, speaking to no one in particular, "I would be happy to do it..." The only reply was the clinking of armor and gear. "Or I could walk, if we all feel that is safer." Ayremac turned to Huzair, and the wizard shrugged noncommittally. "But flying could be nice." Karak bundled past and Ayremac threw the question out once again. "I could scout... if you feel that would be better."

"Ayremac, this isn't the time to fly off by yourself!" Morier snapped as he adjusted his chain shirt. "We need to get moving away from whoever that is pursuing us! There's too much at stake." The Officer of Umba looked crestfallen.

"I wasn't suggesting that I scout for entirely selfish reasons, Morier," the half-celestial explained. "I think it could be necessary to try and take out this elf. So I would suggest doing that and then moving on."

"Ayremac's right," Shamalin nodded. "This elf, whoever he is, is likely to follow us no matter where we go. They know we have the keys, most likely they're going to try to take them. So the question is, do we seize this opportunity where we might have the upper hand or are we better off trying to get away - back to town - to get better equipped before confronting the ratman?"

Morier blinked. It was a rare thing for Shamalin to speak her mind so. He glanced at Karak and the dwarf shrugged.

"Lass has a point," Karak admitted. "An' I'd prefer a fight to runnin' away." Morier sighed.

"I s'pose you're right," the albino said, favoring Ayremac and Shamalin with a nod. "We're better off facing him on our terms than we are having him follow us and meet us when he wants to."

"You're probably right," said a voice from the edge of their campsite. Startled by the sound they had just begun to turn when a Lightning Bolt crackled across the small clearing. sizzling through Morier and Ayremac before striking a tree on the far side with an explosion of wood. The eldritch warrior took the full brunt of the attack, but Ayremac again managed to twist away from the worst of the strike and his own resistance to electricity kept him from any harm.

"I'd say that's a good enough reason to take the fight to you," the voice spoke again and then the figure melted into sight as its attack disrupted its Invisibility. Or rather SIX figures melted into sight. Each one appeared to be speaking and gesturing identically and all of them looked like Ayremac in every detail except for the tattered, brown robes they wore. All six Ayremacs sneered as each of the figures flickered a few feet to the side. "I'd offer to let you surrender the Keys but we all know that would be a waste of breath! So I'll just kill you and take them off your bodies. That seems much simpler."

 

[Burningspear]

hmmz, a mimicing NPC bbeg? OOoo-kayyyyy....

 

[Jon Potter]

hmmz, a mimicing NPC bbeg? OOoo-kayyyyy....

Well, part of that is my attempt to discribe the visual effect of a Mirror Image spell.

It was tougher than I thought it would be when I decided to use this tactic.

 

[Pyske]

Well, part of that is my attempt to discribe the visual effect of a Mirror Image spell.

Actually, I think Burningspear was referring to the "all of them looked like Ayremac in every detail" part.

 

[Jon Potter]

Actually, I think Burningspear was referring to the "all of them looked like Ayremac in every detail" part.

Well, for that explanation, you'll just have to wait.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

Well, for that explanation, you'll just have to wait.

Have you used the veil spell (PHB)? I just used it so effectivley against my PCs that I may make this a staple for my wizard BBEGs.

 

[Burningspear]

Actually, I think Burningspear was referring to the "all of them looked like Ayremac in every detail" part.

Yes Pyske, i was, thnx for explaining

 

[Jon Potter]

Have you used the veil spell (PHB)? I just used it so effectivley against my PCs that I may make this a staple for my wizard BBEGs.

I haven't had occassion to use that one, actually. It slipped under my radar. I'll use it now, though.

Thanks.

And my player's thank you.

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #395] Showdown in Spiney Wood

"I know your tricks, wizard, and they won't fool me..." Ayremac hissed, fixing his eyes on one of the shifting images. His duplicates smirked evilly and stared right back.

"We'll see," they all seemed to reply and began moving their respective hands through the motions of a spell.

Shamalin beat him to it, however. Brandishing her holy symbol at the myriad versions of Ayremac taunting them from the tree line, she shouted, "Veneficium dispelle!" and stabbed a targeted Dispel Magic into them. She felt some of the spells hold under her assault, but Mage Armor and Mirror Image crumpled at once. And suddenly there was only one Ayremac staring at them from the shadows with a stunned look on his face. His form still flickered strangely as if unsure where his place was in reality.

Ayremac - the real one - beat his wings and took to the air, flying at the mage who had stolen his face. Windblade was a barely visible swirl of vapor in his hand and he drove the weapon forward as he charged. The attack was hasty, however, and the strike failed to connect.

"What kind of spells you got there, rat boy?" Huzair asked as he sent three Magic Missiles into the Ayremac clone. The enemy hissed in pain and flinched back. Standing a moment later, he'd held forth his fist displaying a ring with a glittering diamond set into it.

"Well, I do have this little stone chipped from the walls of Shra'kt'lor," he grinned and spoke a Word of Chaos.

The effect was instantaneous and devastating. Ayremac, who was hovering in the air nearby heard the Word and felt his mind begin to spiral off into a void of madness. But he was able to shrug it off, only his gods-granted resistance to spells saving him from insanity. Morier and Shamalin, who were the next closest felt the power of that single Word slam into their heads like an ogre's maul; they staggered back, deafened with blood running freely from their ears. Huzair heard the Word and thought it sounded vaguely familiar, like a sound from a half-remembered lullaby his mother might have sung to him once upon a time. Beside him, Ixin roared in pain, dropping to her knees and clutching her bleeding ears. Karak was furthest away and he scoffed at the power of magic even as a rain of dead birds and small woodland animals toppled down from the trees to litter the campsite with corpses.

Karak dodged amongst the slain squirrels and chipmunks and moved toward the evil wizard who had invoked such dark power. The mage had retreated further into the woods, however, and he wouldn't reach him before the spellcaster had a chance to act again.

Shamalin looked up and saw blood shining wet and bright against the papery white skin of Morier's head and neck. Ignoring the horrible roaring hiss that filled her own head she poured a Cure Moderate Wounds into the albino undoing most of the damage the opening lightning bolt had done to him.

Ayremac came at his doppleganger again and drove Windblade at his head. This time the strike was on target, but still it hit only empty air as his sword passed through the spot where his evil twin appeared to be... but really wasn't.

Huzair stepped closer and dropped a Snowball Swarm on both Ayremacs, enjoying the experience perhaps more than an ally really ought to. They both cried out in pain and alarm, but the Ayremac in the brown robes had clearly suffered worse than the real one. He stepped back five feet and cast a spell, vanishing immediately from sight.

Ixin got awkwardly to her feet, shaking off the lingering effects of the Word of Chaos. A growl of frustration escaped her lips as she sought an enemy who wasn't there.

Karak plowed into the underbrush, aiming at the spot he'd last seen Ayremac's double. His waraxe flashed around in the shadows, but he encountered nothing.

"What? What was that?" Shamalin gasped, her face contorted as the deafening roar in her head dropped to a desperate ringing.

"I'd say it was the elf that Ayremac described," Huzair told her, nudging a large fat red squirrel with his toe. "My theory is that he polymorphed and followed Ayremac to us." The mage lit a cigar and glared at Ayremac, shouting, "Nice job leading him back here, by the way."

The holy warrior was at Karak's side beating the bush to find their elusive adversary. He looked up at the sound of Huzair's cry and yelled back, "He's gone! There's no sign of him!" Huzair grimaced.

"Great..." he murmured.

"Ocuir-arctaos, Huzair," Ixin said. He turned and saw that she was crouched over something lying on the ground beside their campfire. She probed it with one of her scimitars, flipping the little thing over. "Detoimixin. Odoshen sartoma."

Huzair stepped over and bent to look at the thing she'd found. It was small, no bigger than a human's index finger, but with a large multi-facetted ball at one end and a tangled mass of tendrils trailing from the opposite. The wizard shook his head. "Odoshen ominak-sartoma," he said and stood. In common he added. "I've never seen anything like it before."

 

[Burningspear]

Kewl...