Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #435] Anticlimax
"And I suggest you get over here right away," Huzair finished. "Or we're going to have a bloodbath on our hands."
Ayremac took wing at that, flying over the rooftops until he spied a crowd of people gathered around a large building several streets over from Doctor Akerman's wagon. They were commoners, all, dressed in warm furs and armed with little more than knives better-suited to the dinner table than to combat. They were gathered around a body lying face down in the snow before the building. He landed near the body and began trying to calm the crowd.
"We are tracking a killer," Ayremac was saying when the wagon arrived with the others. The Officer of Umba was squaring off against a winged elf dressed in furred finery. The avariel was standing above the crowd on one of the perches that extended from the front of nearly every building in Pellham.
"Your wings might make you a parody of the Winged Folk, but you have no authority here!" the elf cried haughtily, flexing his golden pinions and making a chopping motion with one bejeweled hand. "This village and everyone in it fall within my demesne! These people are mine to command and I demand that they enter this temple and discover who has murdered my sheriff!" He gestured nonchalantly at the body lying in the street.
"I am a holy warrior of Umba!" Ayremac boldly countered, displaying the symbol worked into his breastplate - a symbol that was mirrored on a large plaque set above the double doors behind him. "By helping us you show your true allegiance to justice!!" The elf narrowed his eyes at the Officer and glanced around at the crowd which in turn was looking expectantly up at the elf. He sniffed and turned his head with exaggerated disinterest.
"I need prove nothing regarding my allegiance," the avariel said, crossing his thin arms across his chest. He shifted on his perch, wings spread to aid his balance. "But if you wish to enter in the stead of these stalwart folk, then so be it. I grant you my permission."
"Thank you," Ayremac said with a polite half-bow. It had been quite some time since he'd had to deal directly with the ruling winged folk aristocracy. He was good at it, but he didn't enjoy it. The avariel sniffed with feigned disinterest and made a 'get on with it' gesture.
And so they did.
Doctor Akerman began by drawing forth a handful of clear marbles from robes, he passed his hands over them in strange patterns while intoning "Oculus magicus. Oculus magicus," over and over again. After what seemed like a very long time - but was probably only a minute or so - the marbles chattered against one another briefly and ten of them rose upward to magically hover in front of the mage. Akerman pocketed the remaining marbles and instructed his Prying Eyes to: "Enter that shrine and thoroughly examine the interior then report back to me with everything you see especially regarding Sir Alechtus." Dutifully, the Eyes did as he asked, bobbing easily across the street and in through the dark doorway leading into the church.
"Their reconnaissance might take some time. Might I suggest we use that time to apply any of our longer-lasting magical enhancements?" Doctor Akerman suggested and immediately began casting Mage Armor on himself.
Morier cast Bull's Strength. Ahlear cast Bear's Endurance. Huzair buffed himself with False Life. Ayremac bestowed himself, Morier and Huzair with Protection from Evil and then took the additional measure of Blessing Morier as well. Shamalin invoked a Magic Circle against Evil centered on herself. Doctor Akerman's spellcasting went on for a time after the others, and when he'd finished the air around him seemed almost to hum with the magic of his numerous layered wards.
Then they waited and after a minute or so more Doctor Akerman's Prying Eyes returned from the chapel. They settled into his outstretched hand where they relayed what they had seen within and promptly popped like soap bubbles. Akerman then described the interior of the place to the others.
"There's another body inside. Dressed in robes," Akerman announced. "I'm sorry, holy warrior, but it sounds like the local Justiciar. Two others are bound to the altar near the back, dressed like this one." He indicated the body lying in the street. "They're either dead or unconscious. There's no sign of Alechtus."
"What?" Ayremac snapped. "He's eluded us again?" Akerman shook his head.
"I believe he's in there," the Doctor told him. "I sent ten Eyes in and only eight came out."
"Let me sneak in and scout it out," Huzair offered. "I can Blink through the walls invisibly so that no door would have to open to alert him to our presence." Ayremac shook his head.
"Our magic won't last forever, Huzair," he said. "And I don't mean to be insulting, but your powers of perception leave something to be desired. I suggest we go in directly." He loosened his morningstar and looked to Morier. The albino nodded.
"Ayremac and I in the front rank, followed by Ahlear and Shamalin," Morier said, drawing Ravager (a weapon he had not used at all since acquiring Stoneblade). "Huzair, Anania and Dr. Akerman offer ranged supprt, but be mindful of the tight confines."
"I could soften him up with a fireball," Huzair suggested but Ayremac balked.
"The others inside might well be alive," he said and Huzair rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he huffed, "but this does not constitute attacking from range."
They lined up as the eldritch warrior directed, marching straight into Alechtus' killing field.
Using his magically enhanced strength, Morier was able to easily wrench open the second of the double doors, allowing some of the bright midday sun to filter into the shrine, not that either he nor Ayremac needed any light since both possessed darkvision and viewed much of the interior easily enough despite the dimness. There were wide wooden columns supporting the roof and they marched in a double line from the doors to the altar at the rear of the place. Between the columns and the walls were rows of low wooden benches. In the center of the room lay a figure dressed in the robes of a Justiciar, face down on the floor. Two others, a man and a woman dressed in the torn remains of splintmail, were bound to the farthest columns.
All this they took in in the split second before a grim-faced figure stepped from behind the column to Ayremac's left. He held a bastard sword like Morier's - one with a single, saw-toothed edge - and like Morier he held it in a two-handed grip. In one disturbingly fluid motion he stepped out and stabbed the blade between the plates of armor at Ayremac's armpit. Blood immediately flowed down his torso and left leg, spattering onto the floor. The holy warrior cried out in alarm and invoked a Holy Smite centered on the ashen figure. It caught the swordsman, Ayremac, Morier, and Ahlear in its area of effect. The druid, however, was on the extreme edge of the effect and not evil in any case so he suffered little from the barrage.
The man flinched back as holy energy poured down all around him, but he took the punishment and retained his feet. "You'll need to do better than that, Sanctifier," the man growled, a cold, sepulchral sound that sent a worm of dread into Morier's heart. Ayremac, made of sterner stuff apparently, was unaffected.
Shaken, though he was, Morier stepped forward, Battlecasting True Strike as he went and channeling spell energy into his elemental blade attack. The weapon came down and although the dark figure tried to step back beyond the weapon's reach, it still caught him on the shoulder. There was a tremendous crack as the lightning discharged in the enclosed space and the swordsman jerked under the onslaught. But he didn't fall.
"I like your sword," he hissed at Morier and stabbed the albino in the throat. "I'm going to enjoy taking it out of your cold, dead fingers, elf."
The eldritch warrior stared in shock at the bloody blade as it opened a horrifying wound along his jawline. Following the length of the weapon he saw the mad face of his own death leering at him and felt his fear creep up another notch, as, grinning, the madman took a step back and disappeared behind the column once more.
"And I suggest you get over here right away," Huzair finished. "Or we're going to have a bloodbath on our hands."
Ayremac took wing at that, flying over the rooftops until he spied a crowd of people gathered around a large building several streets over from Doctor Akerman's wagon. They were commoners, all, dressed in warm furs and armed with little more than knives better-suited to the dinner table than to combat. They were gathered around a body lying face down in the snow before the building. He landed near the body and began trying to calm the crowd.
"We are tracking a killer," Ayremac was saying when the wagon arrived with the others. The Officer of Umba was squaring off against a winged elf dressed in furred finery. The avariel was standing above the crowd on one of the perches that extended from the front of nearly every building in Pellham.
"Your wings might make you a parody of the Winged Folk, but you have no authority here!" the elf cried haughtily, flexing his golden pinions and making a chopping motion with one bejeweled hand. "This village and everyone in it fall within my demesne! These people are mine to command and I demand that they enter this temple and discover who has murdered my sheriff!" He gestured nonchalantly at the body lying in the street.
"I am a holy warrior of Umba!" Ayremac boldly countered, displaying the symbol worked into his breastplate - a symbol that was mirrored on a large plaque set above the double doors behind him. "By helping us you show your true allegiance to justice!!" The elf narrowed his eyes at the Officer and glanced around at the crowd which in turn was looking expectantly up at the elf. He sniffed and turned his head with exaggerated disinterest.
"I need prove nothing regarding my allegiance," the avariel said, crossing his thin arms across his chest. He shifted on his perch, wings spread to aid his balance. "But if you wish to enter in the stead of these stalwart folk, then so be it. I grant you my permission."
"Thank you," Ayremac said with a polite half-bow. It had been quite some time since he'd had to deal directly with the ruling winged folk aristocracy. He was good at it, but he didn't enjoy it. The avariel sniffed with feigned disinterest and made a 'get on with it' gesture.
And so they did.
Doctor Akerman began by drawing forth a handful of clear marbles from robes, he passed his hands over them in strange patterns while intoning "Oculus magicus. Oculus magicus," over and over again. After what seemed like a very long time - but was probably only a minute or so - the marbles chattered against one another briefly and ten of them rose upward to magically hover in front of the mage. Akerman pocketed the remaining marbles and instructed his Prying Eyes to: "Enter that shrine and thoroughly examine the interior then report back to me with everything you see especially regarding Sir Alechtus." Dutifully, the Eyes did as he asked, bobbing easily across the street and in through the dark doorway leading into the church.
"Their reconnaissance might take some time. Might I suggest we use that time to apply any of our longer-lasting magical enhancements?" Doctor Akerman suggested and immediately began casting Mage Armor on himself.
Morier cast Bull's Strength. Ahlear cast Bear's Endurance. Huzair buffed himself with False Life. Ayremac bestowed himself, Morier and Huzair with Protection from Evil and then took the additional measure of Blessing Morier as well. Shamalin invoked a Magic Circle against Evil centered on herself. Doctor Akerman's spellcasting went on for a time after the others, and when he'd finished the air around him seemed almost to hum with the magic of his numerous layered wards.
Then they waited and after a minute or so more Doctor Akerman's Prying Eyes returned from the chapel. They settled into his outstretched hand where they relayed what they had seen within and promptly popped like soap bubbles. Akerman then described the interior of the place to the others.
"There's another body inside. Dressed in robes," Akerman announced. "I'm sorry, holy warrior, but it sounds like the local Justiciar. Two others are bound to the altar near the back, dressed like this one." He indicated the body lying in the street. "They're either dead or unconscious. There's no sign of Alechtus."
"What?" Ayremac snapped. "He's eluded us again?" Akerman shook his head.
"I believe he's in there," the Doctor told him. "I sent ten Eyes in and only eight came out."
"Let me sneak in and scout it out," Huzair offered. "I can Blink through the walls invisibly so that no door would have to open to alert him to our presence." Ayremac shook his head.
"Our magic won't last forever, Huzair," he said. "And I don't mean to be insulting, but your powers of perception leave something to be desired. I suggest we go in directly." He loosened his morningstar and looked to Morier. The albino nodded.
"Ayremac and I in the front rank, followed by Ahlear and Shamalin," Morier said, drawing Ravager (a weapon he had not used at all since acquiring Stoneblade). "Huzair, Anania and Dr. Akerman offer ranged supprt, but be mindful of the tight confines."
"I could soften him up with a fireball," Huzair suggested but Ayremac balked.
"The others inside might well be alive," he said and Huzair rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he huffed, "but this does not constitute attacking from range."
They lined up as the eldritch warrior directed, marching straight into Alechtus' killing field.
Using his magically enhanced strength, Morier was able to easily wrench open the second of the double doors, allowing some of the bright midday sun to filter into the shrine, not that either he nor Ayremac needed any light since both possessed darkvision and viewed much of the interior easily enough despite the dimness. There were wide wooden columns supporting the roof and they marched in a double line from the doors to the altar at the rear of the place. Between the columns and the walls were rows of low wooden benches. In the center of the room lay a figure dressed in the robes of a Justiciar, face down on the floor. Two others, a man and a woman dressed in the torn remains of splintmail, were bound to the farthest columns.
All this they took in in the split second before a grim-faced figure stepped from behind the column to Ayremac's left. He held a bastard sword like Morier's - one with a single, saw-toothed edge - and like Morier he held it in a two-handed grip. In one disturbingly fluid motion he stepped out and stabbed the blade between the plates of armor at Ayremac's armpit. Blood immediately flowed down his torso and left leg, spattering onto the floor. The holy warrior cried out in alarm and invoked a Holy Smite centered on the ashen figure. It caught the swordsman, Ayremac, Morier, and Ahlear in its area of effect. The druid, however, was on the extreme edge of the effect and not evil in any case so he suffered little from the barrage.
The man flinched back as holy energy poured down all around him, but he took the punishment and retained his feet. "You'll need to do better than that, Sanctifier," the man growled, a cold, sepulchral sound that sent a worm of dread into Morier's heart. Ayremac, made of sterner stuff apparently, was unaffected.
Shaken, though he was, Morier stepped forward, Battlecasting True Strike as he went and channeling spell energy into his elemental blade attack. The weapon came down and although the dark figure tried to step back beyond the weapon's reach, it still caught him on the shoulder. There was a tremendous crack as the lightning discharged in the enclosed space and the swordsman jerked under the onslaught. But he didn't fall.
"I like your sword," he hissed at Morier and stabbed the albino in the throat. "I'm going to enjoy taking it out of your cold, dead fingers, elf."
The eldritch warrior stared in shock at the bloody blade as it opened a horrifying wound along his jawline. Following the length of the weapon he saw the mad face of his own death leering at him and felt his fear creep up another notch, as, grinning, the madman took a step back and disappeared behind the column once more.
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