Favors Owed, A Dragon's Tale
"ONDAYN. THAT IS THE NAME."
Dragon. Musings. Merchant Tangisir flies overhead, his brass wings stretched--and proves every bit the copper dragon.
He will. Not. Shut. Up. About what you'd found. About his Rival.
Just a few weeks ago, you'd uncovered this island--with its cursed horde. A horde guarded by demons and undeath and a very, very unwelcoming message.
At the moment, you're on a ship, with the island in sight. At this moment, it isn't the old, crusty captain that's irritating. It's the: "WHAT AN UNUSUAL NAME..."
And then, again, to Murder: "TELL ME AGAIN, WHAT YOU HAD FOUND, IF YOU WOULD PLEASE, DEAR GOBBER."
Poor Murder. He's asked Murder that every few hours--having picked up, perhaps, on the gobber's acute mind and recall. The island, with its dead corpses and waters (which are probably, still, full of floating corpse-hands) cannot come soon enough.
Erendriel would help Murder, but after the incidents before, priority one was to sort of, you know, recover from her near-death experience. Second was to, well, be nice to Zeke. Zeke will be greeted in the morning with a tray of food and drink, carried by Mage Hand. "Good morning!"
The Gobbo is not having a fun time. Not 'cos of the dragon, though he isn't helping. Murder'd rather be sitting on the dragon's back and having to listen to him talk and talk and talk... But no, here she is clinging to the rail. Peering up at the dragon... then looking down at the sea as another bout of nausea arrived.
"I told you a dozen times already!", she grumps at the merchant-dragon.. and then spends the next few minutes with her head over the railing. "Stupid ocean..."
Zeke is... unfortunately for Murder, more than happy to allow the goblin to be the center of attention. While serving an ancestor of the people is to his mind a great honor, it is also more attention than Zeke is willing to put himself in the middle of. He watches instead the goblin, and hopes silently that she doesn't need the sort of rescuing that he would have wanted in her shoes. He's nearby her though, offering the solace that a healer can offer to one that is ill. This much at least he can offer her.
“Peasssce on your nesssst.” Politely offered to Erendriel.
Garak's gaze is drawn every once in a while the dragon as it flies overhead. Even with all of his journeys to many of the cities of the lands - and a good deal of time on the roads and skies in between - he's never actually met or traveled with such a creature. He's not quite sure what to make of this particular example of the species though. Or what appears to be an equally inscrutable relationship with the sole Alexandrian Gobber on board. So he keeps himself positioned somewhat close to Murder. And eavesdrops shamelessly.
Shin, meanwhile, had joined up as reinforcements more or less. And a belated expedition sent to help out. Hearing of horde had the rather young, short man blinking a few times. And with their being on the ship, well...
Shin at least, has his sea legs still from the long voyage to Alexandria. He also happened to have an overgrown tiger with him. That was currently simply settled on top of the nearest sunny perch she could find to simply watch. Shin comments up, "I think we need to wait until we land somewhere first, my lord! It seems as if she is having a bought of sea sickness?"
The tiger, meanwhile, is pleasantly just sunning herself. Yep. Overgrown armored tiger enjoying the freaking sea. Stranger things have happened, right?
Serraphine had taken some of the larger leaves from the island and had more or less kept to herself, except for one fact. She was twisting and folding the leaves into little hand-shaped creations that she seemed to be leaving around for Zeke to find. Preferably in places that he wouldn't expect until he turned and saw them. Or opened a pouch and pulled one out. Or any number of places where Zeke might not expect them.
After all...
What better way to get over your fear of hands then to be surrounded by them... /Surrounded/.
"...BUT IT IS AN UNUSUAL NAME, DO YOU NOT THINK?" the Merchant's tone sounds...hesitant. For a dragon. Dragons can be hesitant?
The Veyshanti sun, golden, flashes overhead and reflects upon the waters. A little calmer, today--nothing like the churn some of you had faced some weeks ago. Yet, still churny, still with the occasional white-crest of water.
"...THAT CAVE WAS UNUSUAL. IT WAS CURSED...THE ONE YOU FOUND? THERE WAS NOT ANOTHER? THERE--OH, EXCUSE ME. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME TEA?"
Poor, poor Murder. The captain looks sympathetic--the crusty old man sends an occasional look her way. ...then he looks overhead. Then he looks towards Murder. Then the dragon. ...and then he goes back to paying very, very meticulous attention to the controls of the boat.
It has, so far, been one of the more dedicated boat trips you have been on. And, you've been largely free to do as you please. The captain keeps staring at the dra--the skies. Yes, the SKIES, overhead!
Zeke is clearly uncertain what to do with Erendriel's polite attention, she's been very kind though, and he graciously accepts the breakfast. "Thisss one thanksss you." He keeps an eye on Murder however, his patient more important to him than the food that he's been offered. Green eyes flicker toward Erendriel briefly and he... quickly gives the food back seeing that its upsetting Murder's constitution. In doing so he spots a little hand-shaped - And he practically drops the food into her.
"Thisss one apologizesss!" He quickly fumbles trying not to get anything on her, his eyes catching the object that startled him briefly and breathes a slow breath. "Perhapsss not now? Murder issss not feeling well and thisss one musssst attend."
Shin sighs as he looks around, then considers. He moves over towards the goblin and dragon conversation. "Ah... my lord dragon?" He says up towards it. The darn thing's flying, so for the moment Shin's having to look up, and keep track of it with his eyes.
He seems to consider, "Is there any way you can land, or become smaller or something? I do not mean to be rude, but I think you are scaring the captain, and it is very hard to hold a conversation with you flying so much." Shin is trying to not be well... roasted or whatever this dragon does. But the thought is there.
Garak watches Murder go to be sick over the rail and that reminds him to go and check on his own horse, kept belowdecks because that's where horses stay on ships. Armored tigers would probably be better belowdecks as well, he thinks to himself...but then what sailor is going to ask an armored tiger - or the adventurer it accompanies - to do such a thing? In any case Garak goes below, casts a few divine spells to ease the loyal steed's discomfort, has a quick conversation to raise it's spirits and then returns to the deck. The cleric's own spirits seem to have been raised by his efforts. At no time does it occur to him to offer similar spells to Murder or any of the rest of the crew that suffering the effects of the seas.
Tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, she's working on another folded thing. Her head tilting to one side and then the other as she seems to be considering how to do the next fold. A squint of the eyes and the Arvek leans close-RIP.
Serraphine's eye twitches as the booming voice made her hand tweak and there was now a little rip in the leaf.
It's okay... it's okay...
She pulled out a small knife and started to make small cuts and nods her head slowly. She made this work...
Her head tilts to the other side and she leans in closer. A little fo-o-o-old /RIP/. Serraphine looks up at then at Murder who is kicking at the railing so vociferously that she tore another small piece.
This is not going to look like a hand.
Another little twist and another, and soon the shape is saved and completed! She holds it up, admiring her work, and then makes it bounce along in the air.
"Woof woof woof. Woof." And she pokes the nose of the little dog against Mayra's.
Mayra looks balefully at Serraphine, her nose a veritable snot factory. She lets out a little crooning noise and decides trying to tuck in closer to Serraphine is not that comforting what with the little dog-leaf-gami that the Arvek is doing. So instead she stands and heads over in the direction of Murder.
Mayra drools her way across the deck, focusing on the Gobber on her shaky legs.
"Ohhh don't be so melodramatic." Serraphine calls after the horse-sized hyena.
"..." Hfff! A sort of...indignancy hangs in the air. One could well cut it with a knife. The dragon at least goes quiet, after Murder speaks up. And then, Zeke...
Zeke...the great beast shudders a little, along the wings. "...THIS ONE APOLOGISES, OF COURSE. IT IS ONLY... AFTER A THOUSAND YEARS, WHY, I AM THRILLED!" the Merchant says, and dare he fly a little higher? Just a touch? A...mild, nearly undiscernable amount, exacept that he, perhaps, had?
"AND SHRINK? WHY, I HAD NOT CONSIDERED. A DRAGON SO RARELY CHANGES ITS SCALES. IS THE VIEW BETTER FROM DOWN THERE? IT--WHY ARE THERE ROTTING HANDS UPON THE BEACH?"
The beach. The beach of said island is now in view--and indeed! One can see the remnants of the hands you had fought. Past the bloating stage, thankfully, and yet...there is no disguising the disgusting, decaying flesh and the bits of bone sticking out from them.
"...there's some booze below the deck. And ah, a towel," the captain mutters, braving, for once, to speak up. Couldn't he have said that...oh, yesterday, though? And A towel? Singular? "I'll be dockin' us, soon."
Erendriel squeaks, and juggles the abruptly dropped food with first the mage hand, and then her own, stumbling and dropping them over the rail beside Murder. "Oh!" she gasps, biting her lip. And it's then when talk of hands and beaches are revealed, and she's distracted from helping Zeke to look herself.
Like Shin, Seldan had been recruited as reinforcements for this endeavor, but has spent much of his time since they set sail sitting as close to the mast as he could manage without being in the way, sheathed longsword over his lap, pack next to him, absorbed in some sort of quiet meditation. He has not to this point spoken to anyone, beyond polite greetings, nor has he really moved since.
The Gobbo lifts her head up at the captain saying that they would be docking soon. And then gets a wiff of rotted flesh and bone... mixed with breakfast. She staggers away from the edge of the rail and wobbles past the giant hyena. Murder reaches out a hand, and grabs a hold of Mayra's leg. While the giant hyena tries to snuffle and sniff at the Gobbo, the Gobbo climbs up onto Mayra's back. "Ya ya yahhhh! Hiho, Mayra!", Murder yells.
Little clawed toes dig into the hyena's sides, and with a sudden surge of speed, the two catapult off the side of the ship.
Following a great splash, the Gobbo is quickly swum ashore by Mayra... all doggos know the doggo paddle.
Shin looks over towards the beach, whistling a bit as he can't quite see the problem, but well... hands on the beach? Undead stuff? Demons? This was definitely not his usual territory.
Meanwhile, the female tiger has apparently found someone to taunt! Getting up, the tiger moves over towards the hyena twice it's size. Looks at it. Then the antics of the goblin. Then gives what can only be a growling laugh before turning with a flick of its tail to go back to the sunning spot.
Shin, hearing the sound, looks over. Blinks, then sighs as he rubs his eyes, "... oh, great... her sense of humor is back." He looks up towards the dragon, "Ah... not the view, but it is easier for us smaller races to hold some semblance of conversation without having to well... look upwards. Our necks are not as flexible as yours?" How the hell do you explain to a dragon that it's hard to hold a conversation with something three times your size?
Zeke is clearly embarrassed and apologizes again quickly to Erendriel about the lost food. Shame for it to all go overboard. He sighs and goes back to watching - THE SHORE! Zeke's hand tightens on his quarterstaff and he starts searching the water for any sign of hands which they somehow failed to kill before. ANY sign of such. "Wait Murder!" He huffs and follows the goblin across deck and stalls at the edge of the water uncertainly. "..." He will follow as best he can though using other means certainly. Likely a boat of some kind.
"Can't we just ride it up on shore like last time?" Serraphine calls out to the captain, her head turning back toward her Hyena who is still shakily walking in the direction of Murder. And then suddenly both of them are leaping off the edge of the boat. "TRAITOR!" The Arvek calls out after her hyena who has decided this would be a much better way to deal with boat rides.
Serraphine blinks and goes back to making the small dog-leaf-gami bounce along through mid-air. She tucks it away then inside the neckline of her armor and then slowly stretches as she stands up.
A yawn escapes her next and she makes her neck pop with a jerk of her head to one side and then the other. And, without a second though, reaches into her pouch and draws out a freshly-baked Acleese coffin-shaped cookie. Not even cool enough to crunch, she dances it from one hand to the other and chews on the still soft cookie. Squish-chew-chew-chew.
Garak goes belowdecks once more, this time to collect his few belongings. While there he also slips the saddle onto his warhorse. Sensing something...hesitant about the steed's mood, Garak tries giving the horse more words of encouragement, something about 'riding heroically onto the beach' and 'be the first of his line to step foot on these sounds'. The horse doesn't seem to be buying it. Or perhaps such concepts are just beyond the scope of it's intelligence. Finally Garak sighs. "Well - if the ship bothers you that much we may be able to fly home." This does seem to draw a response, so perhaps it understands him somewhat.
"There's rowboats on tha--" side! the old captain gets out, before Zeke beelines it towards the smaller, going-ashore boats that Lahar totally looked up the names for!
"We were runnin from them things, last time but..." the captain says. He squints at Serraphine, through those bushy brows. "Eh, what the hell," he says. "Runner up! Who know how much we'll be loadin' into tha belly!"
Ahead of you is a golden expanse of sand. A perfect Veyshanti shoreline. Picturesque, on the little island. ...except the undead hands. Hundreds of them. Just lying there, rotting. Waving at you slightly, because of the waves.
...that the ship suddenly, and unceremoniously, rams into the middle of.
Overhead and hovering, the Merchant looks towards the rotted hands...and then further along, down the beach.
The Gobbo is off the hyena once they are safely onto the beach and far away from the waves. Murder kicks at the closest of rotting hands, to be sure that they are a decent distance away. Then she procedes to hug the ground. At length. Ignoring the playful taps from the hyena's paw.
Conveyed to the shore Zeke is not as glad to be standing on a solid surface as Murder is, and thus doesn't take the opprotunity to hug the shore. Instead he gives wide berth to the hands on the beach and allows his eyes to roam over the sands. He takes a few steps in the direction of the cave that they found the last time they were here, but stays within realitively easy reach of Murder just in case something more than sea-sickness is wrong with her. This also means that he's not leaving anyone behind. Splitting the party is not something that the sith-makar wants to do.
Erendriel is going to go ashore more conventionally herself. Especially with dangers ahead. "Are we going to have to fireball through those things I wonder? Hmm..." she'll look to the Captain to speculate, after rushing down to get her backpack, getting it on, and strapping in for battle.
Shin, meanwhile, has gotten his tiger companion up and about. Then moved to a rowboat as well. He at least helps with the rowing there to get ashore. The tigeress even sits comfortably on the back of the boat. Yep. With others going their own way it seems, he's at least a good rowman if nothing else. Wielding the weapons he does probably helps out in that!
The tigress, once ashore, moves over to where Murder and the Hyena are. Looks at the two, then gives off what definitely has to be the tiger equivalent of a laugh at the two.
"My thanks, Captain, but I think that I will manage, and can aid others as well." Seldan flashes a smile at the captain, but does not get to do more than that as they run aground, staggering and dropping to one knee as the whole ship shudders with the impact. "Agh!" Pressing his lips together, he squelches any other comment, only picking himself up, brushing himself off, and drawing a fairly complex sigil in the air. He speaks a phrase to it, and it bursts into blue-white life, waiting. Spreading his hands out palm-down before him, he describes a flat bowl shape in the air before him, and the sigil's energy bleeds off into nothingness, forming a disk of that same blue-white energy, in that bowl shape. It sits, waiting, and he grins boyishly in satisfaction.
That done, he tosses his pack and his cloak onto it, then gestures that it should follow him. Follow him it does, as he jumps up on the railing. Massive, feathered wings sprout from his back with a sound of ripping cloth, the feathers raven-black, and he jumps from the railing, gliding to shore with the floating disk in tow.
"IS THAT USUAL, CAPTAIN?" the Merchant asks, as gradually, everyone dismounts in one way or the other. Tangisir has landed, adroitly, beyond the hands but has Shin had noted--a large voice, well, carries.
"Well, no..."
The dragon looks curiously towards the crusty fellow--and then towards the gobber, hugging the sandy earth. "...ARE YOU QUITE ALRIGHT?" he asks, before looking towards the direction of the outcropping, which Zeke had also looked towards.
The sun glints upon the island's outcropping--a singular, yet massive, collection of rocks in the midst of the island, whose surface is otherwise golden, Veyshanti sand.
The island itself is not that large. One might, with some work, walk from one end to the next in a half hour's time. Most of it is covered in golden, Veyshanti sand. ...except of course, the outcropping.
GAME: Erendriel rolls perception: (3)+19: 22 GAME: Zeke rolls perception: (10)+2: 12 GAME: Murder rolls perception: (9)+14: 23 GAME: Seldan rolls survival: (19)+14: 33
Garak makes his way to the shore with the help of a rowboat, a few crewmembers and a mostly cooperative horse. Once ashore he climbs into the saddle and waits alongside the area where others are coming ashore, watching over the proceedings as if he's accompanied units as they disembark from such vessels a few times before.
GAME: Garak rolls survival: (17)+10: 27
Erendriel scrunches up her face as she prepares to disembark, looking out at the water. "Oh no the wyverns are gone..." the girl wails. "Can somebody have RE zombified them? Is that a thing, or are they going to be skeleton wyverns now? This is awful."
Murder sits up suddenly, at the booming voice. "Oh good, you've landed.", the Gobbo huffs. Standing, she stalks towards the dragon. "No, it's not normal... those are undead, and they swarmed over the ship the last time we were here. We had to set fire to EVERYTHING!" The Gobbo turns about, gesturing. "There was even a wyvern hereee... Wait. Where did the wyvern's bones go?" She even moves up and down the beach a bit... "Nope, it's gone. Not good."
The Gobbo turns back to the dragon. "Since yer bigger, you keep watch for a large set of bones moving on their own. Iffn ya got fire, set fire to 'em. The cave is THIS way." Murder turns and starts striding away.
No sign of the wyvern bones? Zeke hadn't noticed himself, but the reminder of their lack puts him on the defensive. Now he's watching the water, /and/ the sky. Watching for some sign that they're about to be attacked. He doesn't like this place, but he follows in Murder's wake just the same; nodding politely to the dragon. "If you will..." Polite and quiet words but easy to hear.
Seldan lands easily enough on the shore, just beyond the hands. The wings melt back into his back, as if they had never been, and he picks up and dons cloak and pack in turn, looking around. "Tracks," he offers, peering at the sun-drenched sand. He doesn't seem to understand what the others are on about, but studies the sand instead. "Some sort of canine, I think." Whatever tracks he is peering at definitely appears to be a four-legged creature.
GAME: Shin rolls Perception: (18)+0: 18 GAME: Shin rolls Survival: (9)+0: 9
"WYVERNS?" the dragon says. The silence that follows is as loud as his words.
And then, "...WYVERNS. A DRAGON WOULD NOT TRAFFIC WITH THEM, NOR..." and he makes a motion with his claws towards the rotting hands. "WHAT ELSE WAS IT YOU SAW?" he asks, and a sort of smoke curls around the muzzle. A burning smoke, before he coughs, and clears his throat somewhat. It ceases.
There.
Garak follows the tracks with his gaze and then nods at Seldan's assessment. He looks a bit surprised at the dragon's words. But then he seems to agree with something said. "What was it that was encountered the last time Alexandrians were here?" He glances about for the party members that are returning to the island. "Demons and undead?"
The Gobbo pauses and peers up at the dragon. She huffs. "No one said it was a dragon who made undead wyverns. Maybe it was the demon? Or the cave..." She's slowly backed up, til she's beside Zeke. "Does anyone know where the crevice was? I think I have missed it." Murder glances at the others with wide eyes.
GAME: Serraphine rolls Perception: (2)+5: 7
Zeke pauses, seeing that the group has paused for the dragon. His tail flicks behind him, discomforted. "A horde of handsss yesss. Fell creaturesss of undeath. Sssserving sssomeone. Another abomination." Zeke's words are hard, unhappy. "Thisss one remembersss, it was jussst there." Zeke motions with his quarterstaff toward the rocks that Murder had just come from. He remembers this whole event perhaps too well. It was after all somewhat traumatic to him.
Erendriel looks up at the Dragon as she makes landfall. "I DON'T see the wyverns, and the last time we saw a demon with the wyverns, not a dragon," she calls out, approaching Murder and Zeke. "So what now? Need anything?" she asks, particularly to Zeke with the last bit.
Seldan looks up at the dragon as well, but only listens to the others as they speak, until they are done. "Undeath," he scowls at the description. "That is good to know. There are canine tracks here as well, Great One." The floating disk still waits obediently behind him, and he dismisses it with an absent gesture, his attention still on the surroundings.
GAME: Seldan casts Floating Disk. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16 GAME: Garak casts Shield Other. Caster Level: 11 DC: 16 GAME: Garak casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 11 DC: 17
"THEY ARE STUPID, VIOLENT CREATURES," the dragon says, to Garak's look. "STUPID, STUPID CREATURES. MY OPINION of this Rival of mine diminishes hourly.
...AND WHY A DOG?" the Merchant says. He stands then and gives himself something of a shake. He strides over to where Seldan indicates, his wings folded carefully behind his back. Here, one can see the jewelry upon him. A precious stone, here and there and favoring green hues against his copper. Nothing...gaudy. Never that. But, stones that declare: this is a dragon of wealth and stature.
"...A DOG. A DOG AND AN ISSLAND THAT REEKS OF INFERNAL MAGICS. I SSMELL IT, NOW. AND IT CENTERS ON THAT OUTCROPPING, GOBBER. YOU SSAID NOTHING WAS THERE?" the Merchant says. "OVER THESE PAST FEW MONTHS, I HAVE COME TO APPRECIATE YOUR ACUTE MIND. IF YOU SSAY SOMETHING WAS THERE--THEN I BELIEVE YOU."
Garak leans forward and then places a hand on his horse, layering it with divine protection in somewhat of a ritual - one long familiar to the mount by now, judging by how it endures the spells patiently. Then the duo ride towards the rocks, although he dismounts walks alongside if the terrain gets difficult enough to pose any any risk to equine footing. "Once this island is tamed -" no easy feat, he adds silently to himself. First undead wyverns, and now apparently dogs and infernal magics? Ahem. "-that outcropping would be a fine location for a lighthouse to guide travelers here. Once those foul hands are cleared from the waters, of course," he adds quickly.
GAME: Murder rolls will: (5)+3: 8
Murder goes from somewhat hesitant to puffing up a bit at the dragon's words, and she grins to Zeke, looking relieved. "I can't say why a dog. Maybe the poor thing was just in the wrong place at the right time?", the Gobbo offers up to the dragon, with a shrug. "I mean, obviously your rival has been surprised by your bold, calculating move. And.. and so your rival reached for the closest and fastest tools they could get."
She begins to climb up and about the outcropping, sniffing and putting her hands just about everywhere. "It's around here somewhere, I can feel it." Her foot suddenly slips and she tumble-rolls to the bottom. To land on her face. Sputtering, the stands up, her cheeks red. "No one saw that!"
The Gobbo is back up the rock face in a hurry. "Ow! Dammit!" She pauses to pull thorns from one of her hands. "How does it even grow here...?" She chews vindictively on one of the green leaves.
GAME: Garak rolls will+2: (9)+11+2: 22 GAME: Zeke rolls will: (18)+9: 27
Shin makes his way up, his tigeress being easily able to follow him as he looks around. The tigress probably has better eyes than he does! But the idea of missing wyvern bones, demons, and other things? Well, that makes it harder. So, he continues to make his way upwards at the moment.
GAME: Shin rolls Will: (5)+2: 7 GAME: Erendriel rolls will: (18)+8: 26 GAME: Seldan rolls will: (7)+19: 26 GAME: Serraphine rolls will: (9)+12: 21
Zeke moves forward quickly, suddenly. He is moving toward Murder who he has kept within nearly arm's reach this whole time. Just in case her sickness returns, and also to help her find the outcropping and then. He moves. The lightning that some sith are capable of though those same sith can seem so placid the rest of the time. Uses his quarterstaff to hook in front of her. Uses it to push her backwards. Behind him. It puts him closer to... "Back! Thissss one /Sssseesss/!" The word has emphasis, and he hissess it harshly.
Chuckle-chuckle...
Cackle-chuckle! And there's a streak of golden fur.
"Mayra go, use tackle!" Serraphine points at the Gobber!
And the streak of golden fur bounces around one way and then bounces around the other before leaping over Zeke to tackle the Gobber!
IT WAS SUPER EFFECTIVE! And uses slurp after word on gobber fase.
"You probably should back up..." Serraphine munches away on the soft cookie, pointing instead toward a spot not far from Murder. "No... No Mayra. Not slurp. Tackle and /drag/." Serraphine sighs and munches away on the cookie some more.
Erendriel is following Zeke and Murder. Not really sure what's going on, to be honest, as everyone around her seems to speak in the most circuitous of ways. But she can follow, so she climbs behind Zeke and Murder, yes, behind, always behind, never in front.
The sith-makar is not the only one to see the truth of the outcropping. Seldan is still climbing when he sees - -something- - in the outcropping. "Wait-" he calls, putting up a hand, but others are quicker to get to the gobber.
GAME: Shin rolls 1d20+3: (19)+3: 22
"...HOW GAUCHE. ...MAGE, IF YOU COULD?" The Merchant settles onto the sand. His voice carries easily on that island, in the midst of the ocean. And he is ...beginning to sound...
Something. Something, to be sure. He makes a near-careless motion of the claws. Something any spellcaster might recognize, by certain circles. The dispel of magics, aimed at the rocks.
Murder was quite busy chewing on a plant that dared thorn her, when the quarterstaff hooks around her and pulls her from her perch. She squeaks as she tumbles down, again, and comes up snarling, leaves falling from her face. Theeeeen the tackle. The Gobbo ooooofs as the Hyena pounces on her. And then squeals at something wet and slobbery is lapping at her face. "Gaaaaah!" Murder flails at the beast slobbering all over her. "Nuu! Groooosss, what did you eat aaaaaauuuughhh."
Mayra probably ate anything that was dropped in the galley along with whatever was dropped on the ground, and maybe whatever she found in the bushes. It is hard to say as she was a very good floor shark.
"No... No, MAYRA... DRAG!"
Maya did not listen, it was still time to lick fase.
Sighing, Serraphine stuffed the rest of the cookie into her maw and started to walk a bit more quickly over toward Mayra and Murder. She grimaces at her horse-sized beast, but she's always grimacing, so maybe it was a smile. Then continuing on toward where Zeke is and where the Dragon is casting at.
Erendriel looks from where she's following Zeke (and Murder) and calls out "Sorry, I don't have any means of dispelling anything. But if someone else can..."
Zeke stays between Murder and what he /Sees/. He hisses at it; slams his quarterstaff into the ground and tries to figure out what kind of magic this is. The merchant makes a motion, gesturing that someone should dispel the magic and Zeke is already praying, already casting the spell that will unwork this fell magic. This is precisely the sort of situation that he has prepared such for, and with his quarterstaff lifted he points it at the magic. Draconic flows from his lips, a simple few words for the Dragonfather and the work is done.
GAME: Zeke casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15
Seldan pauses at the top of the ascent, to watch Zeke work. Perhaps he ought to learn the way of such undoing magic, he reflects, simply waiting.
And there it is. Someone, or something, had thrown a spell over the rocks to hide the crevasse. As Zeke unweaves the spell, he can feel it--potent. Sickly. A spell hastily done, for whatever reasons its owner might have had, and based upon the feel of it, the sith-makar may not wish to meet said owner.
Unravel is a *good* word for it. Or perhaps. Rot.
And unravelling it reveals the crevasse--the one some of you had uncovered just a few weeks ago, and left alone--because the inside of it was covered in markings. That 'feeling of being turned inside out,' as Murder had described to you all earlier.
Today? As the illusions drain away? You discover that those markings have crawled outwards. The markings twist and wind, in that order-chaos of Infernal workings. Some of the workings bunch into knots, before working their way outwards.
With the Hyena distracted momentarily by Serraphine, the Gobbo scrambles out from underneath. "Thanks!", she calls out cheerfully to Zeke. She's up the rock face and into the crevice, hardly slowing to notice the writings have moved outward. She squeaks noisily from the depths. "There's stuff here that wasn't before!", her voice is heard to say.
It is... Zeke shudders, pulls his staff close to his body. The wrongness of it unsettles him in ways that defy words and when Murder rushes forward he jerks toward her. "Wait!" Claws scuffle on the ground and yet he can not follow her where she goes. He looks toward the dragon, eyes quick and sharp. "Do you know thesssse wordssss? What thesssse marksss mean?" He motions toward the infernal writings, the complex emotion of not-feeling-well-at-all is written plainly across his features. It's hard to read sith-makar sometimes but even to those who have trouble reading such he looks like he might be ill at any moment.
Erendriel comes up to Zeke as he's casting, and hs reaction makes her stop and think. She looks at the words, standing behind him, and shakes her head, not understanding any of it. His unease makes her shake her head, and stay on guard, looking around. To the sky, particularly.
Shin moves towards the crevice carefully, looking them over. "I... do not recognize them, so they are not Khazdul or Sildanyari, I think?" He shrugs, his tiger giving a wary growl as it backs away. Blinking, Shin moves over to put a hand on her, "Easy, Mirai... we have friends here. Don't worry too much on it."
A shudder ripples through Seldan's frame as the infernal writings crawling from the crevasse are revealed to all, the magics hiding them undone, and his entire bearing hardens, much like Zeke's did, and twists into a mix of anger and veiled nausea. "Foul indeed," he nods at the sith-makar. "Ware you, that is blackest of evil." He turns, and from the battered-looking leather pack quickly fishes a scroll.
Garak's normal expression could be described as 'stern' but now it twists into a mask of displeasure. "Yes. This is infernal power." His expression also shows his unease. He's not as offended by infernal power as the paladin might be, although Garak doesn't find it pleasant. "It may be spreading. Undeath and the infernal - both tend to be the enemies of civilization and goodly folk. But together? This is a combination that shouldn't be allowed to continue." He raises a hand and a gleaming silvery lance appears. More of a long cavalry spear, meant for war, than a tool for sporting jousts. "We should scout and learn more, before determining how best to deal with it."
Serraphine scratches at her chin as she looks at the writing and then tilts her head the other way. Mayra, having had her fun licking escapades and so much happier that she's on land (and probably delicately thrown up in the bushes) bounces off to go see what other tasty things are hidden nearby.
Serraphine scratches at her chin again and then shrugs, "It says Delicious, or something like that." A tilt of her head the other way, "Oh! Wait, no that's Brol'gamath. Name of that wyvern rider I think from last time. Hmmm." She reaches down into the pouch of freshly made cookies to draw another out, it's still steaming.
"...GAUCHE. GAUCHE...I DO NOT CARE WHAT THEY MEAN, OR WHAT PUTRID DEVIL PRETENDS TO LAY CLAIM! THIS CRATE IS MINE!!!" The Merchant's wings are raised against his back. At this moment, he is as loud as any dragon, as loud as any giant--and the roar thunders across the island, and past the sea.
The crate, and its scrolls, appear on the sand behind you. Those magically sensitive might hear the pop! it makes as it's transported from one space to the next.
In the open air, one can more clearly see its design--an aged crate of some value and worth. It matches your memories from earlier, and yet the sun--the sunlight brings out a splendor unseen before. Between the shadows and infernal markings, how could it have?
...and then, while ears are still ringing from the roar, the pop of the crate and scrolls translocating, another sound piles on. The sudden, quick running of feet. A pair of large jackals, angling across the sands, and FAST! So fast, its eyes large in its face.
Seldan and Garak had been right, after all!
Turning to look towards the sound of running feat, Shin immediately pulls his glaive as the tiger also turns. He moves to put himself between the rest of the party and the assuming incoming hostiles with the glaive braced and ready to intercept as it were.
"Hey, the scrolls disappeared!", comes a cry from deep inside the crevice. Followed shortly thereafter by Murder popping out of the crack in the rock. "Hey the.. oh, I see." She'll carefully climb down the rock face, and step to Zeke's side. "That's the stuff that was inside.", she whispers to the Sith. "Are those jackals?", she wonders of Zeke.
There are jackals suddenly headed right toward the collection of items that had belonged - still rightfully belonged - to the merchant with them. The dragon's ability to transport them to its side seems to have summoned the creatures, and Zeke motions in a quick circle around himself. He creates a barrier against evil with draconic words echoing from his lips again; trying to keep the jackals at bay; or at the very least make them consider the fact of what they're getting themselves into. "Ssstop!" Power thrums through him, easing the ache of unnaturalness for at least a moment.
GAME: Zeke casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15
Considering at the distance, Shin suddenly plants his glaive butt first in the ground, then pulls out his bow and notches an arrow. He's taking aim at them, too! And that bow, despite it's appearances, looks to take a lot of his strength just to pull back the drawstring as he prepares to fire.
...the jackals stop. Their ears are pinned back, and sand dusts their coats. Markings spiral up from their legs, towards the chest and stomachs.
And, one of them stands on its hind legs, and transforms into something more human. The other...lowers its ears, and snarls at the lot of you.
"We would wish to bargain, delicious ones." They eye the weapons, the gleaming armor.
Seldan's ears may be ringing, senses may be reeling with the stink of infernal evil, but a threat in the form of jackals running towards them abruptly banishes such minor considerations. A quick second glance at his companions, and he is about to raise a hand when the jackals speak. "Bargain with the dragon, if you would," he answers coldly, without taking his eyes from the group.
The Gobbo steps forward and gestures to the dragon. "Bargain?", she asks of the jackals.. and then looks to Seldan a moment, grinning toothily. "Yeah, bargain with the big guy!"
Garak peers at the jackal that spoke. "It is wise of you to speak, rather than fight," he assures the creatures gravely...as he searches his memory of merchants and marketplaces for a line of conversation that would feel natural in this unnatural situation. "Who are you and what do you wish to bargain for? I'm afraid our ally's treasures are already spoken for..." He glances back briefly to see where the dragon is. "But if you have information of this place or other things of interest to us, we may be able to come to some agreement."
Zeke listens to his companions... offer for the dragon to do the bargaining and blinks at them twice. Once with the inner lids of his eyes and once with the outter. He shakes his head and his green eyes are flat on the jackals. "There issss no bargaining with evil." This he says quietly, seemingly to himself; but loud enough to be heard by all.
"THESSE CRATES ARE MINE."
"...but the scrolls? Surely, m'lord. We only wish the scrolls...and quickly, m'lord, before we are discovered."
"WHAT DOES THIS ONE CARE IF YOU ARE SENTENSSED TO DUST? A THOUSAND YEARS, THIS WAS SSTOLEN FROM ME. ...A THOUSAND, AND MY RIVAL HAS NOT EVEN THE GRACE TO SHOW THEMSELVES, BUT RELIES ON WORTHLESS DREGS FROM THE DESERT'S UNDERBELLY?" The Merchant's voice is full of a dragon's distain as he looks over towards the jackals.
"...convince him, delicious ones. Those scrolls are our Contract."
The still-transformed jackal lowers its head, and whines. Snarls. "We are running out of time," it says, its voice like raw glass.
The Gobbo moves forward, to peer at the scrolls. Sniff at them. Takes them up in her hands. "Well, so uhm... whomever holds these, holds you, yes?", Murder wonders.
Shin keeps the arrow pulled back, glaring at the jackal that's still transformed, then to the one that is. "Technically, you would be delicious to him." He motions with his head at the dragon.
"I think you would just give indigestion, though. So talk. You want to bargain, bargain. You are under a time limit it seems. We are not. And I have no qualms about putting an arrow through your head or my silver fist into your hearts."
The tigeress meanwhile is growling beside Shin. Ready and looking to fight for Shin and the group perhaps.
Garak glances at the rest of the party and then at the dragon. Finally he looks at the Jackal. "What do you mean by 'Contract'" Somehow...he manages to pronounce the capital C. "Is it as she says?" he nods towards Murder. "And if so, how did such a bond come to be placed upon you?"
GAME: Shin rolls Diplomacy: (9)+11: 20 GAME: Murder rolls knowledge/arcana: (14)+8: 22 GAME: Erendriel rolls knowledge/arcana: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Garak rolls knowledge/arcana: (15)+8: 23 GAME: Garak rolls sense motive: (11)+10: 21 GAME: Zeke rolls sense motive: (4)+2: 6 GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (9)+11: 20
Serraphine scratches at her chin, and then looks at the Jackals, then to the dragon. Jackals, dragon, jackals, dragon, a tilt of her head and then a frown.
Mayra comes bouncing back in from off in the bushes. Then slides to a halt next to Serraphine, her giant head tilting to the side with a chuckling cackle. Then another tilt the other direction and she looks at Serraphine, then at the jackals, Serraphine, jackals.
erraphine looks to Mayra, then stuffs the rest of the cookie in her mouth. Mayra, jackals, Mayra -- scratch-scratch behind the ears -- jackals.
Mayra leans her head up into the hand, and as Serraphine has a deeper frown, Mayra's hackles start to rise and her lips curl back before she lets out a sort of yelling noise finishing it with a chuckling cackle. And another, this one higher than the last.
"I know, girl. I know." Serraphine scratches behind Mayra's ears with one hand and starts to draw her sword with the other. "They are evil."
The jackals unsettle Zeke much in the same way that the infernal sigals had. He doesn't trust them. Not one bit. "Thisss one doesss not trust them." He says it out loud to be clear, echoing Serrapine.
Garak purses his lips. His monacle gleams slightly with the telltale sign of some enchantment as he studies the jackals. "They are bound. To the very same Brol'gamath," he nods towards Serraphine. "What is the greater evil - the very existence of such creatures, or the fact that they are bound to another?" He peers back at the dragon again. Did he ever mention the name of his 'rival'?
Erendriel looks to Zeke, nodding to his words, then steps up beside Murder, who wisely took the scrolls. She looks at the jackals, and hums. She'll try to be diplomatic about it, but she'll look to the Jackals and ask "When you say contracts, what kind of contracts do you mean? A person might assume you're talking about contracts that bind you, but perhaps you mean another kind, and we're.. jumping to bad conclusions??"
GAME: Erendriel rolls diplomacy: (13)+21: 34
Seldan's eyes unfocus for the space of a few breaths, then narrow at the jackals. "Nor I, and nor should you, but they are bound by the Great Hound, and another, I think," he tells Zeke. "What would happen, if these scrolls were to be destroyed?" he asks the others. "Great One, are the scrolls yours as well?"
Tangisir looks carelessly towards the jackals. "FOR YOUR SSAKE, MORTALS. YOU HAVE DONE ME MANY KINDNESSESS...DESTROYING THE SCROLLS MAY DESTROY THEIR CONTRACT. HOWEVER, THEY WOULD STILL BE BOUND TO THEIR GREATER MASTER."
The still-transformed jackal snarls, and lowers its head.
"It binds us to the service of Zaradal, ally to Ondayn, m'lord. Severing it would...release us again to Brol'gamath, yes."
"WHAT IS THE SERVICE OF ONE DEVIL-LORD VERSUS ANOTHER? YOUR KIND WERE CREATED TO SERVE, WERE YOU NOT?" One might call the merchant's words careless. Almost. Save, you have worked with him these number of months, some of you. There is a...calculated element, there.
"...we have seen the freedom of Clan Ahl. Brol'gamath is more remote, m'lord. We would stand a chance, m'lord, had we a...had we a patron, m'lord."
GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (2)+11: 13 GAME: Erendriel rolls knowledge/the planes: (10)+6: 16 GAME: Zeke rolls knowledge/religion: (7)+14: 21 GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/the planes: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)
The Gobbo turns, rather woodenly, and begins to move to the dragon. She holds up the contracts. "Yeah... you should probably take them, then. If they must be bound, at least let them be bound to someone who will treat them properly. Use them for a good purpose, rather than serve evil." Her wee hand smokes a little, where the scrolls are in contact with her skin. "They're uhm... kind of burny."
GAME: Serraphine rolls knowledge/religion: (11)+13: 24
Zeke... is clearly uncertain what to do. He can't tell if the jackals are sincere in their desire to turn from evil toward service of a different kind. That would be good certainly, but being bound... "Can they be brought back into the fold?" He asks seemingly no one, or perhaps everyone. It's hard to tell. Hard to say what the sith is thinking beyond the twitch-twich of his tail.
Erendriel shakes her head at Zeke's question. "I can't tell. But maybe it's best that the big guy," she says looking up to the dragon, "hold them until we can research that?"
Garak purses his lips. "That woud be a good compromise," he finally decides with a nod. "And while they were in his service, surely he could keep them, ah, secured. We might even be allowed to question them at times for more information." He turns his severe gaze on the jackals. "Would such a bargain be acceptable to you?"
"You are evil, it is not a matter of whether you would better serve others." Serraphine is armed now still and is starting to advance forward toward the jackals.
Mayra, her hackles still raise, is starting to back up. Her lips still curled back and another high-pitched cackle coming out from her.
"Ma-a-a-ayra, guard the scrolls." Serraphine's mouth furrows even further down. "You can leave now, jackals. This is my last warning."
Seldan is about as certain as Zeke, watching them with a frown. "I am not among those of Hers dedicated to breaking the Hound's grip, I could not say," he answers the sith-makar. "The Great One might hold them, for a time, and he might well regret doing so. Evil is evil, and if this Brol'gamath still holds them in thrall regardless of the fate of the scrolls ... I say no." He shakes his head. "Enough."
"...YOU MAKE WISE ARGUMENTS. WELL, JACKALS. THE WISDOM OF FAITH HAS SPOKEN, AND ONE PRESUMES, SEEN INTO YOUR HEARTS. ...BUT THE PRIEST'S ARGUMENT..."
"ONE MAY SPEAK TO THE AHL, IF THIS IS POSSIBLE. THE PRINCE'S WORDS ARE AS SWEET AS HONEY, BUT THEY ARE BOUND TO ME WITH TRUTH. UNTIL THEN, ONE PLACES YOU UNDER THE GUARD OF THESE OF FAITH AND BLADE." Tangisir looks to Serraphine and Seldan. "THEY SHALL BE UNDER YOUR ORDERS UNTIL WE ARRIVE TO VEYSHAN'S TEMPLES. IF THEY SSO MUCH AS SNARL, ONE CALLS TO MIND THE WORDS OF DJINNI POETS--ABOUT THE VANISHING OF WATER INTO SAND SO QUICKLY THAT IT BECOMES AS ILLUSION. THIS ONE TRUSTS YOU MAY MAKE THEM VANISH SO QUICKLY, AND SO NEATLY." The dragon inclines his head, and then looks to Erendriel.
"...LET US SSET THE CONTRACTS ON FIRE, MAGE. IF YOU WILL, MAKE THE SCROLLS **BURN**."
Erendriel has been waiting for this. All of her life.
Erendriel clears her throat, looks up to the dragon, and giggles. She will step up to Murder, and very carefully take the hot scrolls into her own warm little hands. The scrolls are then put into a mage hand, carried up and away, before being BLASTED by a fireball. She then blows on her hand.
GAME: Erendriel casts Fireball. Caster Level: 10 DC: 18
Murder pouts at the pronouncement. "But I wanted to burn them..." She huffs, and slowly walks them to Erendriel. "Quickly. They hurt.", the Gobbo says, offering up the scrolls to the mage.
It seems that a consensus is reached, and for better or worst the decision is made. Like some in the party, he is ready to attack the jackals should they prove in the least dangerous. They make him uneasy to say the least. They have from the beginning. He watches the scrolls go up in flames... well more as an aside. Mostly and completely he is watching the jackals.
At first, the scrolls refuse to burn. All of Erendriel's skill comes to bear--the fire that Murder had mentioned. That infernal /feel/ the priests and holy warriors had commented on.
And then...somehow? It takes. Call it a force of will. Call it determination. Call it WISHING from the desperate look of the jackals, or the power of the scowling scions of faith among you--but it catches. It burns.
The infernal symbols shine brightly, and begin to crumble inwards.
They form a gate.
Shadows fly out of it.
Erendriel is so pleased with herself, but the the reaction comes. With a squeak of panic, she hops onto her chopper, and takes off into the air, getting away from whatever those are, before she can turn and deal with it.
GAME: Beaglefinder rolls 1d6: (5): 5 GAME: Beaglefinder rolls 1d6: (5): 5 GAME: Zeke rolls fortitude: (16)+10: 26 GAME: Beaglefinder rolls 1d6: (2): 2 GAME: Beaglefinder rolls 1d20+11: (15)+11: 26 GAME: Beaglefinder rolls 1d6+4: (4)+4: 8 GAME: Zeke casts Bless. Caster Level: 10 DC: 13
The shadows swiftly form into two, hunched over creatures. One of them lunges for Seldan, its claws scoring deeply into the man's skin. Another bellows, releasing a noxious gas upon the reptilian priest...to no effect.
"That which was bound may not be unbound! Remit, mortals, and repent!"
Zeke might not be harmed by the foul gas blown at him, but his nose is greatly offended. He takes a step back away from the devil, drawing backwards enough to lift his voice to the dragonfather and turn the staff in his hand in supplication. "Bless usss Dragonfather." Simple words and all that is necessary to send the warmth of that deity through those on the sands who are his companions.
GAME: Murder rolls weapon9: (6)+12: 18 GAME: Murder rolls weapon9-5: (15)+12+-5: 22 GAME: Murder rolls 1d10+4: (2)+4: 6
The Gobbo is caught up in watching the shadowy figures fly through a space that only moments ago was simply just air. She cants her head, and watches one breath on Zeke, which causes her to draw her blade. "Raaah!", she shouts out, and swings at the creature. One of her wild swings connects, drawing a thin line of blood. "Have at you!"
Shin turns as the scrolls open... whatever that is! With the more immediate threat, he calls out, "Turn and be ready! Darkness is among us and we can not give way to it! Let our blades ring true and fight for your fellows!"
GAME: Garak rolls spellcraft: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Shin rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20 GAME: Garak rolls 1d20+11: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Garak casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 11 DC: 17
Garak chants and calls to Serriel for various blessings. Rather than the creatures he focuses on the portal they emerged from. He points his lance at it with one hand, the other still grasping his holy symbol. The portal wavers but doesn't completely disappear. Garak lets out a gasp as if he'd been straining against something. "It should have been gone, but something is making it remain. The infernal power!" he shouts. "The runes, or some other lingering magic!"
Seldan inclines his head at Tangisir's decision, although his entire bearing sets into hard lines. "Very well." His tone is cold, and he tucks the scroll away, back in his pack. Before he gets further, though, the fire arrests his attention, and he watches it, forgetting the rest of what he had planned.
And then the devils are on them. Before he can move, claws lash out, opening a bleeding wound in his unprotected side before he can summon the armor. Shirt and robe immediately begin to turn crimson, but he doesn't blink. "Hellspawn, you will not stand, not against Eluna's might! Back to the hell that spawned you, by my blade! _Alacha!_"
As he shouts the final word, the cloak clasp at his neck begins to unfold in a clatter of plates and panels, buckles and rings, and in seconds encases him in a full suit of platemail with the crescent and sphere of Eluna on the polished breastplate. Lost in all that clatter is the rasp of leather on steel, but his sword is in both of his hands, and he stands ready.
GAME: Erendriel casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17 GAME: Erendriel rolls 1d20+11: (19)+11: 30 GAME: Erendriel rolls ranged+1: (11)+9+1: 21 GAME: Erendriel rolls ranged+1: (6)+9+1: 16 GAME: Erendriel rolls ranged+1: (18)+9+1: 28
Erendriel backs off further, and still abit protective of Zeke, she fires off three burning shots at the one nearest Zeke. She's actually really on target, making three powerful, accurate shots... which apparently gets a reaction of nothing but DELIGHT from the target. "Oh gods," she whines, "Don't use fire."
GAME: Beaglefinder rolls 1d20+15: (9)+15: 24
When the mage's fire goes down, the devils look up. Hunger, infernal hunger strikes their faces. The one near Seldan giggles, and pops! It vanishes, and swiftly reappears on the mage's broomstick. It's clawfeet wrap around the handle, and its wings anchor it either side.
"Delicious," it murmurs. "Do you have any more?"
Below, the one surrounded hisses, and steps away from the tiger--before reaching to grab at Murder. Wreched claws strike, and scoop the gobber up. "Hello, tassty snack," it hisses. "Have you ssacrificed to Zaradal, today?" it asks, and all Murder can see is teeth, as it opens its maw wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide...
GAME: Zeke casts Shield Other. Caster Level: 10 DC: 14 GAME: Murder RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 16 temporary HP GAME: Murder rolls cmb: (19)+9: 28
Zeke can not abide these foul creatures, and though disgust is warring in his insides. "May thissss one aid you Murder?" His words are pleading, requesting. Maybe he imagines the nod, or not. He takes it as permission and tucks his quarterstaff close to his body as his claw touches the little goblin. That touch comes with the power of the Dragonfather beside it. "Thissss one will bleed, thisss one will feel, this one will sssssacrifice." The feeling of... connectedness binds them together. A feeling of connection that lingers after the spell fades and tells him that he will indeed take for the woman who's skin lingers on his claws.
Murder squeaks as she's lifted up into the air, and stares at the rows and rows of sharp teeth. "A sacrifice? An offering? I was just about to..." The Gobbo throws herself about in the devil's grasp, and slips free, dropping to the ground in a slightly wobbly crouch. Sword in hands, she scurries to its feet, to be underfoot. "I'm about to sacrifice something short and stubby!" Her sword is waved dangerously close, in her mind, to something the devil might want to keep intact.
GAME: Shin rolls 1d20+4: (7)+4: 11 GAME: Shin rolls 1d20+8: (11)+8: 19 GAME: Garak rolls 1d20+11: (19)+11: 30
The angry tiger goes up on hind legs and comes down with two vicious swipes that miss the demon. Shin meanwhile continues shouting encouragements, "Stand with your fellows! Do not let them escape us!" He moves up to do just that, keeping a bit of distance just in case Murder has to get out of there. But not attacking. Yet. And he even shouts at the demon that Murder, his tiger, and Shin are all harassing, "Face me, demon! Be known to the light of Eluna! Come and face my strength of arms and see if you are as mighty as you think!"
Garak shifts his gaze between the portal and the two devils that already seem to be running amok in the party's midst. If just two are giving them this much trouble it makes it more important than ever to prevent more from emerging. He attempts to dispel the gate one more time. And breathes a secret sigh of relief when it vanishes. Then he turns and rushes off in the direction of Erendriel and her unwanted passenger. "Lead it this way!" he urges.
Seeing his target gone, Seldan's head snaps up to watch the broom and its sinking flight. He scowls, ignoring the burning claw wounds in his side, although that burning is getting worse, and there is a trickle down that side. "You'll not evade me so easily, hellspawn." About to call on the power of flight again, he stops, gritting his teeth, and instead positions himself to strike, right as the broom lands.
GAME: Serraphine spends ONE use of SMITE EVIL. GAME: Serraphine spends ONE use of SMITE EVIL. GAME: Seldan spends ONE use of SMITE EVIL. GAME: Serraphine rolls weapon11 +7: (1)+15+7: 23 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Serraphine rolls weapon11 +5: (8)+15+5: 28 GAME: Serraphine rolls weapon11 +5: (2)+15+5: 22 GAME: Serraphine rolls 10 +7: (8)+10+7: 25 GAME: Serraphine rolls 1d10+6+20: (9)+6+20: 35 GAME: Serraphine rolls 1d10+6+10: (9)+6+10: 25 GAME: Seldan rolls weapon6+2+5-3+1: (5)+13+2+5+-3+1: 23 GAME: Seldan rolls weapon6+2+5-3+1-5: (7)+13+2+5+-3+1+-5: 20 GAME: Seldan rolls weapon6+2+5-3+1-5: (13)+13+2+5+-3+1+-5: 26 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d8+5+10+6: (7)+5+10+6: 28 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d8+5+5+6: (1)+5+5+6: 17
Serraphine already had her sword out because she was looking at the jackals -- but then... Well Serraphine kinda had white noise go into her mind. It was the sight of the devil/demon/whatever things.
She had to be seeing things.
NO WAY!
REALLY?! DEMONS?!
It- It was so beautiful. It was like Serriel had heard Serraphine go Please, send me things to kill and Serriel said Hey, you, evil deity, my Paladin is bored.
And so she stared, stared in absolute amazement until it finally became obvious that Serraphine really should do something. "YOU DEMON FASE! STOP THAT!" She pointed her long sword at the demon and looked up, "Thank you Serriel!" That might've been how she turned on the smite, as she charged in at the Demon. So caught up in the moment, she stumbled forward, bringing the sword in a lazy arc that completely missed the demon and sent her stumbling into Murder.
"Ack, sorry, small green one. One second, please, yes, one moment-" She turned and drove the sword into the demon, "-just hold up a second loud green one that stole Mayra-" And then she hauled the sword upward with both hands, ripping it free from the demon and leaving it in two pieces.
"There we go, little Hyena thief." Serraphine tries to pat Murder on the head as the demon flops over in more than one part.
Seldan's guess on where the sorceress and the devil would land was spot on, and before either has a chance to move, Seldan's blade flashes twice, a gold-silver ripple running down the steel of the blade as he stabs it double-handed, once, twice. The thing turns towards him with snarls and fangs, and drops at his feet, oily ichor staining his clothing, Erendriel's broom, and the ground. He lowers the blade, and only then does he drop to one knee, holding his side.
...as the last devil is smote, a sense of divine...approval? settles about the shoulders of you all. The world appears a little brighter, lighter now that the servants of Zaradal have been banished.
The jackals, their tails collectively pained by an amused-looking Tangisir, are staring at you all in utter, abject TERROR.
"...I THINK YOU HAVE SOLVED THE ISSUE OF ESCAPING," he murmurs, though it comes across as thunder!
The Gobbo was lining up a nice shot to the devilish family jewels when someone comes stumbling into her. She snarls in anger, her eyes glowing red, and then huffs at the Arvek chopping up her demon. Serraphine gets snapped at, Murder's teeth clacking together noisily. "I was just about to kill him!", she complains to the hobgobbo. "Hmmph." She eyes the two jackals, and then looks up at the dragon. "Can I kill one of them, pleaaaase?" The Gobbo attempts the classic large, Gobbo eyes, pleading with the dragon.
Garak waves his lance through the smoke left by the last devil's defeat. He nods in satisfaction. His temple has no particular feelings one way or the other concern to werejackals. The shifting breed have spread to cities everywhere. Wherever their are people, it sometimes seems, there are people of the shifting breed. But creatures that use law and agreement and the very trappings of civilization to lead citizens to their doom? If there's one thing Serriel's priests can't abide, it is fiends. Oh and also undead. If there's two things they can't stand, it's devils and undeath. And...plants. All right three. If there's three things...
GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+5: (8)+5: 13 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+5: (12)+5: 17
Zeke only relaxes minutely with the devils gone, looking around to see if the battle is indeed over, and who is hurt. Without a word he sends a wave of pure warmth through everyone, healing the aches and harm that the devils had caused in their brief stay this side of perdition. Then he turns his gaze on the dragon, bowing slightly. "Thissss one thinkssss that our work here issss done, and we would be besssst off leaving in all hasssste." Before something else could happen.
Serraphine gives the most unnatural look she can down to the gobber of gnashing teeth.
The Arvek smiles.
It's a pinched thing, her mouth pulling up into almost like a v-shape, it looks squished inward on her face even. And she blinks and then her face falls into her normal -- abject annoyance -- face, "But Serriel gave it to /me/. It's okay, little green one, you will have more things to kill. But not the jackal, it's not fighting back."
A whistle, "MAYRA!"
And out of the undergrowth comes a bouncing hyena. She was hiding in the bushes! Probably eating something, especially based by the fact that she is licking her lips. Hopefully she was not eating the tea... >_>
But she was almost definitely eating something tasty. <_<
I MEAN NOT EATING ANYTHING AT ALL! Lick-lap. Chuckle?
Serraphine squints at her hyena, then points at the boat. "Don't you even."
Mayra hangs her head, then looks like she's sulking to the ship... Until Serraphine looks away, and then she grabs one of the wyvern ribs and starts dragging it off toward the ship.
Shin looks puzzled before the tigeress comes back with a bone. That has him blinking. A few times. "Uh..."
Considering things, Shin shrugs and moves to pick up the bone, along with any others his loyal tiger might find as he hefts them over one shoulder and starts to drag them off. "I guess our friends want these?" He says towards Serraphine.
Relaxing after the whole... fiasco, Shin moves to check on his tiger as he picks up his bow and slings it across his back. And then the tiger's sniffing and leaping off.
Seldan stays on that one knee for several breaths, but as Zeke's warmth floods through him, he stands, and nods his gratitude to the sith-makar. He spits in disgust where the body of the slain devil had vanished. then cleans his blade with a rag from his belt pouch and sheathes it. "Yes, we should go," he agrees, still a touch shakily.
He leaves the armor on, and dirty, until he gets on the ship, however.
"...IF ONLY MY RIVAL HAD YOUR FIRE," the Merchant Tangisir murmurs. "NO, BUT ONE SHALL KEEP YOU IN MIND IN MY HUNT, GOBBER. ONDAYN MAY WISH IT, BUT THISS IS NOT THE END." He stands, rising to his full bulk--the size of a small airship, were the wings spread.
Haste to the ship, and we are then to Veyshan, with the good captain's graces. ...and then...one shall check with Clan Ahl, if your wisdom may prove true, priests. Until then, one shall trust in the faith of such warriors as have proven themselves, today."
...and so it is. A little while, and you make it to the ship. Whatever happens to the cave--well, as you leave, there is the powerful feel of heat, and acid-ridden smoke.
...and from the ship, to Veyshan, and eventually, to Alexandria!
-End