To Find a Mourner (Part 7)
So they've assembled an army to keep them out.
That doesn't impress Telamon much. His star-shot eyes glitter with resolve, as he begins rapidly incanting a simple ward against fire. Of course, 'simple' for him is still quite powerful, as he puts a fingertip on Simony's head. A silvery pattern appears there, before fading. "There. If they opt for fire, this should tamp down the worst of it." He takes a deep breath, before invoking a similar spell for himself. "When we open it, they'll probably start shooting. I can throw up a wall of force just past the door to block it though."
Behind the door, Rune already has her weapons drawn, but she takes a step back, "Based on what Simony saw, it would be a good idea to draw some of the fire from the guards, if someone can." Her voice is kept quiet. The rogue has no such abilities, so that is something she leaves in the hands of those more magically inclined.
Instead, she grips her weapons, looking from face to face. "I'm ready. Let's fucking go."
The Goblin begins to stretch and flex her muscles, a variety of joints complaining by way of pops and cracks. Eyeing Aelwyn, she grins. "Size have everything to do with it. The bigger they are, the harder they hit. The Sith in there has huge horns, teeth and claws. It's going to hurt."
She blinks at Telamon, and nods solemnly as he explains the spell. Her expression darkens. "Thank you, Tel. I hate those spells so much."
Her expression brightens again, "Would you like me to go first? I spent a not-inconsiderable amount of gold bolstering the things my equipment could do, and so on command, my shield can radiate the light of the noonday sun. It might blind them temporarily and provide enough light that things won't be hiding in the darker corners as easily."
Simony glances at Rogue, "My shield might just help with that, at least a the beginning."
Aelwyn watches as the mages do their thing, shaking is head at Simony's comment. "None shall perish today, except whose hearts are left wanting." The Dragoon rumbles at her and gives her a bit of a playful tap at her heels. Meanwhile, he reaches down to the satchel hanging off his backside and pulls out a vaguely stick looking like object, wrapped in Goblintown grade vials and straps.
"This one could create a wall of smoke for us to push through to get out of the chokepoint?" The ruddy sith-makar suggests, swaying the smokestick in his hand.
With their enemies on the other side of the door, and Harkashan considering the protection of his allies of prime importance, he touches the gem between his horns for a moment, and begins drawing small 'flames' of light from it. Drawing the spells to life as he focuses on them.
"Everyone, stand a bit close together please." He asks of the crew, as he begins to touch some of them. His aura trembles as the Deathsinging dragon's presence becomes heavier and heavier with each moment Harkashan rumbles deep intoned rumbles. A dirge for their opponents, as he strengthens his allies.
"Do not permit death to touch you." He demands of Auranar and Rune, as he weaves multiple spells onto them. At the same time, a set of wings sudden burst from his back. 'Scales' like feathers, burning and ashes beginning to fall from his back to the ground.
And as he's about to finish, he touches Rune once more; "The Deathsinging dragon empowers your aid upon this day. Choose that which is the greatest evil, challenge them, and your blades shall never err."
Auranar has her own bow drawn. For all her magic she has little doubt that this will be her primary weapon in the coming fight. She strides toward the doors determinedly. Knowing that she should not be in the forefront and yet unable to hide behind everyone else. She touches a hand to the door and looks at everyone gathered with her dark eyes. She doesn't thank them, because that would be reiterating what they already know. What is written in her eyes. Instead she waits for their readiness and then...
The door will open.
GAME: Harkashan casts Freedom of Movement. Caster Level: 14 DC: 21 GAME: Harkashan casts Freedom of Movement. Caster Level: 14 DC: 21 GAME: Harkashan casts Shield of Faith. Caster Level: 14 DC: 18 GAME: Harkashan casts Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 14 DC: 22 GAME: Harkashan casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 14 DC: 21 GAME: Harkashan casts Bestow Grace of the Champion. Caster Level: 14 DC: 24 GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 14 DC: 20 GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 14 DC: 20 GAME: Harkashan casts Bless. Caster Level: 14 DC: 18 GAME: Harkashan casts Death Ward. Caster Level: 14 DC: 21 GAME: Harkashan casts Death Ward. Caster Level: 14 DC: 21
No more delays. No more time. Telamon gestures for Aelwyn and Auranar to each take hold of the door. "On my mark," he says quietly. He flexes his hands, his hair starting to float a bit around his face. He rises off the ground, six planes of force appearing behind him like strange, alien wings.
"Now."
As the doors are pulled open, he gestures, forming mana, before the forces beyond can take action. And suddenly even as the doors are swinging open further, a shimmering wall of force springs up ten feet beyond, a hexagonal pattern snapping into existence to deflect attacks.
GAME: Telamon casts Wall of Force. Caster Level: 20 DC: 24
Simony rushes forward, and as Telamon's barrier spell pops into existence, she raises her shield. "Clarissimus dierum.", she commands, and for a moment, nothing. Then a blinding light shines into the room, illuminating everything as if the noonday sun itself had joined the fight on the party's side.
The door opens easily, and exceptionally quietly (especially compared to the metal gates below) to reveal a grand hall as Simony viewed. There are numerous wooden tables organized about a central path from a large set of double doors. The area is well-maintained, well-decorated and well-lit by numerous mana lamps, sconces, and braziers.
In the mids of that path is the large black-scaled makari, bearing a polearm and flanked by two armed and armored women.
At the end of that pathway, to their left (the heroes' right, sit two chairs on a dais. Above them is an elevated balcony and another set of large twin doors. A balcony that bears several more armored individuals with bows drawn, and a man in robes. Upon the two rows of stairs rising up to the elevated area are several more armed and armored individuals.
After the flare of magic and/or light, the Makari hisses. "You come from out hiding. This one smell your fear. Surrender, may live. Flee, may live. Fight, will die."
"Too long under the Charnite leash has made your sense of smell dull, brethren." Harkashan remarks, as he moves forwards. Buckler in one hand, his other wielding his Khopesh. "I have come to free you from the leash, if you are willing to permit me to cut it." He growls at the hissing Makari - stepping further forward, taking note of the weapons aimed at them and the Force Wall coming up.
"This one assures you, this battle will not go well for you. You are faced with a group organized by a very angry Wife. And this one assures you, a wife's wrath should not be underestimated."
Aelwyn clicks his teeth at all the sights of flashy lights, deities and appendages of who knows which plane. "Ah, what happened to the simple tactics of yore, to be replaced with flash and bore?" He asks from Rune and other non-spellcasters with a lamenting voice, before he walks by the door. Waiting for the instruction to pull, he does as such - and waits to let the heavy pieces of armor to move in first.
With a light step, the short-er makari steps into the room as well. Raising his glaive above his horned head, Aelwyn holds it up like a flaming beacon. "There shan't be anything more than one way for us - and fear shan't be our guide today." He tells the assembled group of foes - and flashes his sharp, macabre teeth at them.
Rune may not be among the first in through the door, but is not hiding, despite the fact that it might actually work to her advantage. The smaller half-sildanyari steps near Aelwyn, looking over to him with a smirk, "I think they're leaving that to us." Rune reaches over to nudge his glaive with one of her blades before she steps into the room behind him.
Her eyes are already sweeping the various individuals, the blue color glowing faintly in a supernatural way.
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (8)+33: 41 GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (20)+5: 25 GAME: Auranar rolls Diplomacy: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+2: (16)+8+1+1+1+1+1+2: 31 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d8+1+1+1d4+4: (1)+1+1+(2)+4: 9
Auranar enters the room, her black eyes filled with her need for vengeance, fixed not upon the enemy, but upon the makari whom she knows has suffered in ways she can only imagine. "We have come to liberate those who are oppressed!" She takes aim with a thought, her breath even and her mind focused. "Already we have freed the prisoners, already the innocent are breathing free air. I know you have been stepped upon."
Here she meets that makari's eyes and looses her arrow, knowing in her heart that it will strike true the one who stands above, someone dressed in robes whom she knows not. They will feel the holy power coursing through her and into her bow. "My wife has felt your pain, if you join us you can strike against them, and make them suffer for what they have done to us all. You too can taste freedom at last."
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+9: (6)+9: 15 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+8: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+13: (11)+13: 24 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10 GAME: Telamon rolls Reflex: (17)+16: 33 GAME: Auranar rolls Reflex+2: (18)+9+2: 29 GAME: Rune rolls reflex+2+2: (17)+19+2+2: 40 GAME: Simony rolls reflex: (4)+8: 12
The warriors on the stairs do not immediately react to the one on the ledge catching a heavenly arrow with his face. They already have weapons drawn and hold their positions.
The two women flanking Szerak immediately close ranks upon Harkashan and strike at him. Not very effectively, however.
The other robed man adjacent to the one with an arrow in his face DOES react, however. It is quite possible that he does not want an arrow in his face, and lobs a small spark of magic to near the opened door that then explodes into a ball of fire.
GAME: Harkashan casts Prayer. Caster Level: 14 DC: 20 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+13: (18)+13: 31 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+13: (8)+13: 21 GAME: Harkashan rolls Diplomacy: (7)+19: 26
Harkashan's armor is fierce, and there's an aura around him that refuses to give way. As the two women strike at him, their weapons hit not him, but an almost invisible wall of pure divine power. Harkashan slowly staring at them. "The Deathsinging Dragon is with me on this day. She will not permit my defeat. For you have one of her own trapped. I am sent to retrieve her." He declares firmly.
He then looks straight at Szerak himself. "You hear her. She speaks truth. This is the Leash I speak of. I do hope this is the only leash that remains upon you, Warrior. For if this is true, my people would reclaim you as one of their own, along with your Hatchling." At the same time, a grey-red pulse flushes out from his position.
GAME: Telamon casts Disintegrate. Caster Level: 20 DC: 25 GAME: Telamon rolls ranged+3: (5)+15+3: 23 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+12: (7)+12: 19 GAME: Telamon rolls 40d6: (141): 141
The fiery detonation did nothing to Telamon, and as he glides through the smoking door, his lips turn down as he notes the scorch marks. "Amateurs," he says coolly.
The sorcerer lifts off, flying into the air. "You face the Starborn King, the Servant of Ni'essa Sky-Singer! I have come for my sister, and I WILL NOT BE DENIED."
His eyes blaze with arcane power. "Ilim sugzag, gu ubri sahar." Searing blue white energy builds up around his hand and forearm, and he levels it at the magician who cast the fireball. "An ambush? This is bad comedy." With that, he unleashes a blast that strikes the wizard, causing the Charnethi caster to writhe at the center of a nimbus of coruscating light. When the light fades, the wizard seems to have turned to stone... and then he crumbles to dust, leaving behind a pall of smoke.
Telamon's eyes sweep over the other warriors. "Will anyone else attempt to fill his shoes?"
GAME: Aelwyn rolls intimidate: (7)+15: 22 GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1+2: (18)+21+1+1+2: 43 GAME: Rune rolls damage1+1d6+7d6: aliased to 1d6+3+1d6+7d6: (1)+3+(5)+(27): 36
It's a bit unusual for Rune to feel the effect of supernatural senses. In this case, it comes as a 'knowing' that there is evil present. She squints in the direction of the both the Makari and their guards, but also those up along the balcony. "Well, this is fucking weird." Then, before she has a chance to do more, there is an explosion which she seems to sense just as supernaturally, avoiding it with a dive and roll to her feet.
Rising up, she grits her teeth, just in time to see Telamon moving just in front of her and watch him make short work of one of the individuals up on the balcony. With a blink. "Um... so that was the evil one." She informs the others.
Regardless of if the rest of them read as evil, they are still part of those who have taken Verna, and that is all that matters to Rune. With the obvious target out play, Rune moves up, hops up onto the table, and slashes towards the shoulder of the guard nearest to Harkashan.
Aelwyn is unhindered by the explosion behind him - he does not even flinch or turn to look at his allies. Instead, his grin relaxes into a makari smile, slowly letting his polearm start to droop. "There shan't be more than few grains of sand," He tells them all, as he begins to step forward - and his glaive bursts into flames, veering towards the side. Leaning away from it, he starts to near drunkenly balance it by the tip of his fingers. "For is it not, the time for you all to make your final stand?"
The burning glaive falls down onto the ground, and the draconian makes completely unnecessary slide across a nearby table. Smacking it with his tail, he kicks off from it once again - only to bring the blade slowly above his head down in front of him. "Come, come, dance with me, while you still can."
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: (14)+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: 28 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: (10)+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: 24 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d8+1+1+1: (4)+1+1+1: 7 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d8+1+1+1: (7)+1+1+1: 10
Auranar's smile is not of the kindly variety in the wake of the fiery explosion. Kindly, her brother has left one of those on the upper level for her to use as target practice. (She could almost thank him.) She sends two arrows at the man, one quick in the wake of the other. "Marking them out for you brother!" She calls out, almost jovially. It feels good after all this time, to be so close to rescuing Verna.
GAME: Simony casts Righteous Might. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19
Simony squeaks in surprise, turning aside and bringing her arms up to protect her face, the fear and loathing evident in her expression. She stands there a solid ten seconds before she realizes she's not on fire. Straightening, her free hand begins to sign, "I owe you one, my dearest friend!"
"I pray to you, Navos, who knows all things. Lead me from the highest heavens, oh hidden God of Strength, and grant my puny body the almighty power of the divine.", the Goblin prays, her holy symbol glowing brightly, rising up to float in the air before her face. There's a distant, thunderous clap, and Simony begins to change. Slowly at first, but then speeding up, the Goblin's height begins to rise above those around her. Her bulk increases too, along with her clothing and armor, too, the hammer that hangs at her hip.
"Oh my gosh!", she lets out excitedly, "Is this what being tall is like?!" She rubs at her throat, her voice having dropped at least an octave. With longer, lankier strides, the Oruch-sized Goblin strides forth, running up to one of the soldiers flanking Szerak.
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+19: (18)+19: 37 GAME: Verna rolls 1d10+18: (9)+18: 27
Szerak is initially surprised at having a Harkashan in his face. Surprised and angered at the challenge. Then there are the softskins words. And more words. As he tries to process all these words, much action and chaos has erupted around him. His grip tightens on his weapon even as his posture relaxes. "Not all free," his weapon is raised and the tip pointed to the large double doors (in case the numerous armed guards were not enough indication). "But chain BROKEN!" He then lowers his weapon. Into the swordswomen that Rune just impaled. This un-impales her by cleaning cleaving off her top half just above Rune's blade.
GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+13: (6)+13: 19 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+13: (7)+13: 20 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+8: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+8: (13)+8: 21
The warriors on the stairs begin to fall back (up) the stairs through the double doors. Those on the left do so somewhat orderly. Those on the right do so much more quickly. The archers finally react and loose at the biggest, scariest threat. To them, Szerak has surpassed Harkashan in this ranking. Though they would have had better success if their target was the floor.
The lone remaining swordswoman chooses discretion for valor and withdraws towards the small door opposite the way the group entered. The sole remaining man in robes (held in place by two arrows), subscribes to the Lancet school of magic and vanishes.
"Understood." Harkashan rumbles to Szerak, rumbling to him, before turning to the others. "We will deal with what lies beyond the doors soon enough." As he glances to the remaining fighters who have decided to keep going.
"Then at my side, Warrior. My magics will protect you as well, as long as you stand at our side." As he reaches out to touch Szerak, and places a blessing of the Deathsinging Dragon upon him as well. He isn't going to chase those who flee. There is no purpose in doing so right now.
"We seek the Deathsinger Cleric. Do you know where she is being held?" Harkashan then asks of Szerak.
GAME: Harkashan casts Shield of Faith. Caster Level: 14 DC: 18 GAME: Telamon rolls intimidate: (17)+34: 51
The other spellcaster went invisible, hiding himself from the others... except for Telamon. His starry eyes track the man, unhindered by his spell, and suddenly the sorcerer flashes across the room, rapidly landing in front of one of the doors. His hand appears to come down on empty space, and his voice rings out with an ominous reverb in it:
"I SEE YOU."
Telamon may not stand as tall as Harkashan, or Simony, but right now he might as well be thirty feet tall. "The priestess of Vardama, called Verna. Where is she?" His eyes blaze with starlight. "It would be in your best interests to tell me." He tilts his head towards where the man's compatriot is now a smear on the tiles.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls acrobatics: (3)+10: 13 GAME: Aelwyn rolls acrobatics: (13)+10: 23 GAME: Aelwyn rolls perform/dance+2: (11)+10+2: 23 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+3: (4)+3: 7 GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon11+1+2+2-3: (11)+16+1+2+2+-3: 29 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage11+9+1d6: aliased to 1d10+6+9+1d6: (5)+6+9+(4): 24 GAME: Rune rolls weapon1+1+1: (9)+21+1+1: 32 GAME: Rune rolls damage1+1d6+1: aliased to 1d6+3+1d6+1: (5)+3+(4)+1: 13
Arrows whirl past him, people run away - and even Telamon sounded like a creature from somewhere beyond. The Dragoon spreads his hands. "Tch, can this one not get a fresh fight?" He asks - and then eyes the remaining archers on the ledge. Opening his maw and licking his lips - the ruddy sith-makar starts to move left and right, swaying in a tantalizing way. Then his clawed feet dug into the earth and he runs up and across the ledge before at the very last second, he leaps and rolls in the air...
... and midair, solidly slides the end of his glaive at the back of the farthest archer, severing the spine.
"Canvas! Looking good!" The draconian calls out with a wave from his bloodied blade.
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: (7)+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: 21 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: (11)+8+1+1+1+1+1+1: 25 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d8+1+1+1: (8)+1+1+1: 11 GAME: Auranar rolls 1d8+1+1+1: (2)+1+1+1: 5
The moment that the Makari male moves to strike, Rune tenses as if she were preparing to block something sent her way. However, there is a lift of her brows and a look of surprise as the soldier in front of her is neatly cut into two pieces only to splat onto the floor. "Well, then." Spinning her blades, the rogue takes a quick look at the battlefield. "Welcome to the team." She gives him a salute with her blade, and then turns towards the archers.
There is a quick glance, and a very impressed expression, cast towards Simony, and then she is kicking off from the table. Rune runs in their direction and clambers up the stairs with remarkable speed, slashing out with one of her blades as she comes to the top of the balcony. Between herself and Aelwyn, there is little room for this one to retreat.
Auranar targets the archer on the furthest leaving the one that Rune has for her to handle, and culling the ranks of their enemies little by little. Those trying to flee are being forced to make hard choices now, and there's nowhere safe left on the battlefield. Which is really just as Auranar would prefer it. She can hear the others asking after her wife and struggles not to add her own voice to the confusion. One of them knows. One of them can tell!
GAME: Simony rolls weapon9+1+4+2: (6)+9+1+4+2: 22 GAME: Simony rolls damage9: aliased to 1d10+2: (3)+2: 5
Simony blinks as the person she was about to engage turns and runs. She laughs and waves to Aelwyn, "Nice stabbing! You too, Rune!" The Goblin turns, and begins to lope after the fleeing swordsperson. Skidding to a halt in front of the door, she turns to fully face her opponent, raising up her hammer.
"Where do you think YOU'RE going?!", she yells as she brings the warhammer crashing down.
His weapon whetted (and wetted), Szerak is now breathing heavily, snout turned towards the fleeing, teeth bared. He hesitates at Harkashan's touch, and the Death-Singer witnesses some focus return to the eyes that regard him. "All taken above. Mistress' lounge. Many slave. Many guard. Many prisoner. Fed to things. Some may live. Not know who."
The archers drop their bows and the bonked swordswoman lowers her sword, all with variations of 'Please don't kill me.' 'I surrender' and/or 'Don't pay me enough for this shit.'
Then there is the invisible caster, who proves that soiling one's robes does not break the lesser version of the spell. "I don't know anything! I just started two days ago. They needed a whole slew of new guards and mages and..." A revelation. "I should've wondered why?"
"Then we must keep moving. Whilst my spells remain in action." Harkashan answers Szerak. Some of them will fall off before they can make it upstairs. But others...
As the archers drop their bows and the swordswoman lowers her sword, Harkashan motions for Szerak. "You do not owe us this. You are welcome to remain behind - we will come back for you either way. But I would appreciate your guidance upstairs so we may retrieve our friend."
GAME: Simony rolls strength+4+7: (12)+1+4+7: 24
Telamon stares at the invisible magician for a long moment, before stepping aside from the door. "Get. Out." he says in a flat, almost disinterested tone. Running a hand through his hair, he sees Hark has made a friend, and he takes a deep breath, pasting a more congenial expression on before floating over.
"Harkashan is right. But -- by any chance do you know a 'Chi-Chi'? He is currently in the care of my cihuaa -- she has rescued him and is taking him to safety." His dark eyes rest on Szerak. "You need not fear for him now."
The Goblin makes a slightly sour face when the swordswoman drops her weapon, but the Goblin's ears pick up the sounds of other objects hitting the ground, and murmurings of surrender. She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. Reaching for the woman, a starkly white hand grabs a piece of armor, and shakes violently for a brief moment. "Behave yourself.", she says firmly, while kicking out at the sword, sending it under one of the tables nearby.
Hired hands are only as good as the gold they are hired for... and even that only goes so far. The healthier archer helps his ventilated peer to hobble away. Rodney the semi-invisible magi follows Telamon's wisdom and flees. The shaken-not-stirred woman departs, behaving in the interim.
Szerak, even, drops his weapon, albeit for reasons different than the others. "Where?" is his only question as he looks between Simony, Harkashan, and Auranar. As if it were the only thing that mattered.
A common theme in this keep this day.