[sblock]Alright, Initiative.
Whisper, Talbot, Vhir, and Tel all failed their saves. They have a -1 to Initiative, Attacks, and Saves.
Johan needs to make his Save. The DC is 15.
For now we're going to assume that all of you are in your own little cloud enshrouded worlds. If you want to naviagte the ship its basically gonna be random who you run into and even heading to familiar sites like the hatch down will be difficult in this fog.
The whole ship is blanketed with fog that replicates a n
Obscuring Mist spell giving concealment and the like.[/sblock]
The cloud was like grayish pea soup. It carried with it the cold chill of death, the cold chill that seeped into the bones and caused even the bravest hearts to quail. Quickly it became difficult to see more than a few feet in front of your own face.
“Do not worry, it is only a…,” the changeling would never know what it was only as the wizard gasped and reached for his pouch. “Whisper! STEP BACK!”
There was a loud clunk as a booted foot placed itself on the railing right in front of Whisper. The changeling hardly had time to react as a bolt of mystical energy blasted passed her, sending the unwanted intruder plummeting. Whisper had only glimpsed the figure, but what little she’d seen had been all mangled rotting flesh and tattered clothing.
The wizard pointed at the sky and uttered three syllables, and suddenly there was a beacon floating over the ship and a loud blaring noise. “We’re under attack!” he said to Whisper, get below, quickly. The crew will handle this!”
And, just as he said that, two more of the figures materialized out of the mist around them, their hollow eyes gleaming with hatred.
- - - - -
As Vhir stared out into the cloud his keen eyes managed to resolve a shape in the distance. He could hardly make out the shape, but, as it came closer the silhouette came more and more into focus. It almost appeared to be another airship, though he could see no elemental ring gleaming about it.
As Vhir stared the beacon blazed above the ship and the alarm rang out. The crewmen near Vhir quickly dashed off into the mists. The sounds of dozens of booted feet clanging across the deck were all that Vhir had now in this personal little universe of fog.
And then a growling caused him to turn, his heart quailing further. A wolf, all polished bones, and gleaming white stared at him, growling despite its lack lips and lungs.
- - - - -
Down in the hold Midian remained oblivious to the cold, though his mount began neighing and clopping its hooves skittishly. He also remained oblivious to the sound of booted feet as they approached him from behind, closer and closer. There was a flash of steel and then…
WHAM!
Talbot bucked, planting both hooves directly into the chest of an undead monster and sending it careening into a wall. The creature fell with a thud, but another one seemed to step directly out of the ethers nearby, its long hideous tongue dripping saliva as it prepared to pounce on Midian and his horse.
- - - - -
Johan heard the footsteps in the hall even as his lady friend, crewman Ashal, giggled at one of his witty remarks. As he turned, he first thought that the figures were merely other crewmen, but he soon noticed that there were subtle clues that something was amiss. Their clothes were in the old style, not the sleek new clothing of the modern Lyrander airship contingent. The hats were the wrong shape, the buttons were tarnished and outdated. Also, one of them was missing his lower jaw and both stared out of cold gleaming eyes.
[sblock]I still need a will save.[/sblock]
- - - - -
“His name is…,” the Professor was cut off by the sound of the alarm ringing.
“




,” the Captain muttered. “Professor, get down below. Boromar, go with her and keep an eye on her. We’re under attack.” With that, the Captain dashed into the mists and was swallowed up, though the two could easily hear him shouting orders to the crew.
- - - - -
“Alright, Tel, I’m recalibrating the elemental bindings…. AHHH!”
Tel heard the alarm blaze and the sound of scraping and new instantly what was happening. His arm shot out and grabbed the gnome by his collar even as the rope affixing the artificer to the ship snapped.
“The hell was that?!” the artificer screamed, even as Tel pulled the lever that drew them up. The two were still hanging within arm’s reach of the ship’s railing when they saw the two corpse-like creatures, knives poised to cut Tel’s own rope and send the two tumbling a thousand feet.