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  #101  
Unread 23rd of May, 2005, 12:15
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Heulwen

Firing her bow again at the same... creature, Heulwen continues her retreat towards the farm house. A place of refuge that seems an eternity away. It would be so easy to hop on Cytaill's back and tell him to run, but that would leave the others alone.

As she moves, Cytaill keeps close to her side. He friend and protector fulfilling his duty, and also functioning as a final escape for her, should it come to that.

Noting Aashya pause, the dwarf hold his ground, and Rhotha'ah not even move towards the farm house, Heulwen renews her cry, "Come on! Get moving!"

[OOC: Fire another arrow at the same thing and then back up towards the farm house again. Cytaill will stay at her side as per the previous order.]
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  #102  
Unread 24th of May, 2005, 23:46
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Rhotha'ah

As the halfling orders all of them to run, Rhotha'ah finds himself thinking that he'd be glad to run, to leave these burned creatures here to their forest. But then he realizes that Soradur's shorter stature won't allow him to run as fast, and he doesn't have the luxury of a wogren companion to hasten his retreat. In that split-second realization, the Dornish man makes his mind up.

"We're staying! Not everyone can get away in time!" He yells, before reaching behind his head for the handle of the greatsword, retrieving it from its scabbard, and swinging it in a low arc at the burned creature before him.

OOC: Drawing the greatsword, and then attacking the creature that tried to hold Rhoth's hand. I'm sorry, but he just doesn't swing that way.. *grins*
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  #103  
Unread 25th of May, 2005, 11:28
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Aashya

One of the bloody things hits Soradur. Aashya flinches, drawing a hand up to her mouth to hold in a scream. "Time to leave, lass!" the dwarf calls back over his shoulder. He holds his axe up to fend off the creature's next attack.

Time to leave. Aashya starts to turn away, but sudden realization stops her: she may get away, but Soradur won't make it. The dead things will run him down easily.

Well, it's every man for himself, isn't it? Too bad about the dwarf, but she has to get out of here. There are monsters coming! What can she do to help him anyway? Just die there beside him. Just die... horribly. There are monsters!

She starts to turn away again.

NO!!

No. She can't leave him. Aashya spins back around, running for the dwarf and yelling something incomprehensible. "A-A-A-R-R-R-G!!!" Before she reaches the fell creature that is attacking him, she regains some control over herself. At the last second, she leaps and lashes out with her foot at the blackened thing.

OOC: Ah ha! Take that! Unarmed strike: +3, damage: 1d6+2. If possible, Aashya charges the creature. Is that an additional +2 to attack?
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  #104  
Unread 31st of May, 2005, 09:47
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Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

This time the arrow flies wide, devoured by the thick shadows in the woods. The trees around feel closer than they were before, looming over her head. She moves further back just as Aashya charges ahead, looking to fight the dead. The choice is a questionable one to Heulwen. She sees Rhotha’ah drawing his sword as well. It seems her companions would prefer to die fighting.

The scrape of metal signals the drawing of the dorn’s sword. The hand-and-a-half sword gleams dangerously in the torchlight and Rhotha’ah employs it as best he can. He swings it with an overhand chop and the burned man raises his forearm to block it. Against a normal man, there would’ve been nothing but a bloody stump where muscle and bone had once stood.

But this isn’t a normal man.

The bastard sword bites into its arm, but doesn’t cleave through it. Instead it leaves a straight gash, spraying more of the hot fluid. Some of it hits the dorn, scalding his flesh. His foe strikes back, setting upon Rhotha’ah with a flurry of blows. He wards off most of them, but one sneaks past his guard, hitting him squarely in the gut. Reflexively, the dorn exhales a second before the hit and lets his hide armor and thick muscles absorb most of the blow. Yet the burned man strikes just as hard as Rhotha’ah. These foes are not weak.
To his left, Soradur swings wildly at the other dead man, but it avoids the wicked axe blade.

Aashya runs forward, moving fluidly. Has she done this before? She doesn’t remember it, but it feels natural. Build up the right speed, and then jump at the right moment. But while her body might recall the action, it’s only a distant memory. She misjudges the distance, and her kick only barely impacts the thing’s chest.

But she gets its attention.

“Herrrrrrrrr.” It rasps, barely comprehendible, but its intentions are clear.

Ignoring the dwarf, it comes for Aashya. She ducks under one scorched arm, but the other hand seizes her by the throat, its fingers hot and strong. Surprised, she doesn’t even try to gasp for air. Soradur screams in rage from her right and his axe flashes through the dark, but the undead man wrests the both of them to the side, avoiding the blade. Aashya finds herself being lifted off the ground and lashes out with a series of kicks, but her feet do little but thump ineffectually into dead flesh.

Its eyes seem to glow brighter now and now that she’s no more than a foot away; she can see what lies within.

Lust.

((OOC: Rhotha’ah takes 5 points of punchy damage. Aashya is currently grappling.))

Dun, Lyr, Aleina

Callum sighs, but this isn’t an uncommon thing. One might expect Callum to sigh if he heard the sun had come out or if he came out ahead on a trade; to him, life is an imposition.

“Everyone wants to talk to me brother. Why? He’s not so—uh oh. He’s looking over here.” Callum quickly calls to his brother. “Shalm! This one right here wants to talk to you!”

Shalm fixes his gaze on Dun, and for a moment, the erenlander can see a family resemblance. He looks annoyed, but nods and beckons Dun over. “Fine, fine. I’ve got a moment to spare. What’s yer business?”
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  #105  
Unread 1st of June, 2005, 03:51
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Heulwen

"'SHIT!" Heulwen curses, when the walking dead grab onto Aaysha. She should have realized it sooner: whatever had made the girl they'd tracked thus far a target was now making Aaysha one. The two were just too similar.

Swinging into the saddle, Heulwen puts her bow away. With both creatures fighting her shot selection would be poor at best and a waste of arrows at the worst.

[OOC: Attempt a fast mount (mount as free action, DC 20 ride check, failure results in mounting as move-action). Put away bow as a MEA. If fast mount was sucessful, draw halfling lance as second MEA.]

Last edited by Black Plauge; 1st of June, 2005 at 03:57.
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  #106  
Unread 2nd of June, 2005, 03:40
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Aashya

Dead fingers squeeze her throat, and Aashya chokes on her rising fear. She beats on the arm that holds her up off the ground, frantically but without effect, then tries desperately to pry those fingers loose.

At the same time, a memory comes rushing back to her...

* * *

She's in a dirty, crowded marketplace, gazing down at the ground and her own scuffed, bare feet as they meander along. She's running an errand for someone, something she does all the time. For her it's an excuse to get outside and away from the squalor of the slums.

She looks up at the sound of catcalls and whistles, surprised by a gang of rowdy Sarcosan youths who are blocking her way. They wear gold rings in their ears and carry jeweled cedeku in their belts; and they strut toward her like they own the street, making lewd suggestions. She'd seen this behavior before, and had pitied the poor young women who were caught out alone. But no-one had ever bothered her before.

I'm just a girl! she thinks, shocked to realize what they will do to her.

"Oooh, come on, baby! We've been looking for someone like you. Hey! Don't run away!!"

* * *

Aashya comes back to the present, gasping for breath as the hot flesh of her attacker's fingers burns into the soft skin beneath her jaw. She has a feeling that this dead man has been looking for someone like her, too...

OOC: Aashya tries to break the grapple.
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  #107  
Unread 9th of June, 2005, 21:54
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Dun

Dun threw a quick glance at his two companions as he turned and then calmly took the few steps towards Shalm. As he had done so, he looked about the tavern, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "We just need a moment of your time, sir." Dun approached closer to Shalm. "You see, we have a personal message fer ye father, err... you."

Making sure to place a hand to shield his lips from prying eyes, Dun leaned over and whispered in Shalm's ear those words Feyd made them burn into memory what seemed a lifetime ago, "Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta." He straightened up and took a silent, deep breath, prepared for almost any reaction but looked on with hopeful eyes.
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  #108  
Unread 11th of June, 2005, 14:15
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Lyr

Looking uncomfortable as usual, Lyr shuffles after Dun, still trying to piece together the parts of the conversation he missed, and recover from his mnemonic gaffe. It seems remarkable to him the tavern patrons have been so accomodating thus far, given the sheer lack of subtlty on his, and to a lesser extent Dun's, parts.
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  #109  
Unread 13th of June, 2005, 00:59
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Rhotha'ah

Rhotha'ah struggles to leash in his rage, keeping it bottled up instead of unstopping it and letting his wrath pour down over the two dead things attacking them. Not willing to put himself into danger without the two healers present, the large man contents himself with simply growling furiously at the dead thing in front of him and attacking it. He grasps the sword's hilt with both hands as he swings the blade upwards in a cleaving arc.

OOC: Attacking (two-handed) the creature: +5 to hit, 1d10+6 to damage.
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  #110  
Unread 17th of June, 2005, 11:12
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Dun

The phrase given to him by Feyd doesn’t even leave his lips before Shalm is moving. One strong, calloused hand seizes the young man roughly by the collar and yanks him until he’s but a hair’s breadth away.

“Outside. Now.”

He moves his head back, but doesn’t release Dun. Instead he pushes himself to his feet, grabs his ale, and moves toward the door, hauling the erenlander along with him. Several other men move to join him, but Shalm shakes his head.

Heulwen

She vaults into the saddle easily enough given her relative inexperience. Cytaill shifts his weight, accommodating her sudden presence a moment before she touches him. If she had more time, she might’ve pondered how amazing their link is, but the charred fell give her none.

One hand slings the bow across her back while the other draws forth her lance from its place on the saddle. The wogren growls, happy to be joining the battle.

Rhotha’ah

The two large men circle each other, and in the dark, they might even appear similar. Yet one breathes and the other does not. One wields a great sword and the other pummels and tears with fist and nail.

Rhotha’ah parries a savage blow from the corpse and watches in amazement as once again, it only nicks the creature’s arm. The dorn ripostes, but does little more than draw a long cut along the creature’s midsection. More hot fluid sprays out onto the ground.

Aashya

Dark splotches begin to blot out her vision. Her throat burns but if it’s from the cruel strength of the fell or the heat the surges just beneath his skin, she isn’t certain. She can dimly hear Soradur screaming something in dwarven, but she can’t turn her head to see why. Her eyes shift to the right, but the darkness is there. And then she feels the strangest sensation.

Things are growing taller.

The monster eases its grip ever so slightly, allowing just the tiniest bit of air to make its way down her raw throat. She struggles fiercely now, trying to shake its grasp, but to no avail; its grasp is still too strong for her.

Her eyes fall randomly to a nearby branch. It’s getting taller than her. Slowly, but surely, it’s rising above her. Her gaze drifting downward, she suddenly understands what’s become of Elia. She knows why they found nothing save the wreathe of flowers worn in the girl’s hair.

The fell is drawing her into the earth.
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  #111  
Unread 18th of June, 2005, 00:07
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Heulwen

"No time!" Heulwen exclaims as she goes to properly attach the lance to the saddle, "Cytaill, quickly! The one holding Aaysha. Charge it!"

Setting the lance as best she can in her own hands, Heulwen tries to settle herself in the saddle and brace for the impact of the lance hitting the Fell.

[OOC: Cytaill charges the fell holding Aaysha and attacks it. Heulwen will attack with the lance, provided she makes the DC 10 ride check that allows her to do so.]

Last edited by Black Plauge; 18th of June, 2005 at 00:17.
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  #112  
Unread 18th of June, 2005, 03:44
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Rhotha'ah

The barbarian watches the fell slowly draw Aashya into the ground, his eyes flaring with red. He barely notices out of the corner of his eye the halfling and her wogren companion already charging the fell creature, can barely hear the dwarf screeching in his incomprehensible tongue. All he can see is the fell. All he hears is the blood rushing in his ears.

Giving a roar that would give any tundra beast pause, the Dorn releases the cork, allowing the rage within flood out of his soul, into his body, through his veins. The rage drives Rhotha'ah in the direction of Aashyas tormentor and he raises the sword high above his head before bringing it's heavy blade down on the fell's exposed arms as if it were a diseased branch on a tree.

OOC: Using my one rage for the day, and moving to attack (two handed again) the fell creature holding Aashya. Would charge, but am already taking a hit to my AC for raging, and I can nil afford that, so the charge in the post is for flavour. Attack +8, damage 1d10+9.
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  #113  
Unread 18th of June, 2005, 04:40
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Aleina

Fear over her own indiscretion is rapidly forgotten as first Callum and then Shalm focuses an undue amount of attention to the newcomers. Unwilling to let the group split further Aleina rises and follows Dun and Shalm out of the tavern. She keeps her mask of calm, resisting the urge to rush, attempting to project the image that all was as it should be.
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  #114  
Unread 18th of June, 2005, 18:38
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Lyr

The scholar raises his eyebrow and shares a puzzled glance with Dun as Shalm paws him. When the other men move to follow, he purses his lifts and contemplates them, unwittingly using an expression they might find overly prying.

Once again, Lyr follows Aleina and Dun.
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  #115  
Unread 19th of June, 2005, 01:24
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Dun

His hopeful eyes turned wide with horror as Shalm grabbed him roughly by the collar. While he thought he prepared himself for almost any reaction, he wasn't quite ready for this. Thoughts of escape instinctively crossed his mind, but Dun thought better of it, there were simply too many of them. Dun was glad Shalm shook off the others when they started to move as well and it was welcomed relief Aleina and Lyr headed behind them as the villager whisked him outside.
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  #116  
Unread 20th of June, 2005, 00:16
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Aashya

Aashya is near to passing out when the fell loosens its grip slightly to allow her some air. The coolness of that breath soothes her raw throat and boosts her will to keep struggling. She tries again to tear the dead-thing's fingers away.

But had it seemed to be trying to keep her alive? Why? What does it want with a living woman under the earth?

OOC: try to break the grapple again; escape artist +7
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  #117  
Unread 26th of June, 2005, 22:58
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Dun

The door of the One-Eyed Fish bangs open and Dun is dragged outside by the shorter, but broader, Shalm. The air is heavy, suggesting a rainstorm will soon follow. The young man stumbles once but manages to keep his feet as the innkeep’s brother hauls him down the length of the inn and around the corner into the mostly empty stables.

Bails of hay are stacked along the far wall, but most of the stalls are empty save for a few nags and one mare. A spare lantern hangs from a post overhead, casting a dim light across the floor. He leases Dun, leaving his overshirt rumpled. The man looks to have stopped just shy of an explosive rage; his face is red and a thick vein pulses on his forehead.

“Fool. Foolhardy. What were you thinking, boy? Just walk in and say that to me with a dozen lads sitting about drinking their ales?”

Aleina, Lyr

Seeing Shalm take a hold of their companion, they rise to their feet and follow after him. Stepping outside, they hear the sound of stools being shoved back across the wooden floor. Ahead, Dun and Shalm disappear around a corner. Behind, two of the locals, the ones waved off by Shalm, have decided to follow Aleina and Lyr. They’re of similar size and stature, with one tending to be a bit shorter and fatter than the other.

“Where are you going?” The fat one calls. “Callum’s got plenty o’ ale. You let Shalm have his word with your friend. I’ll even buy you a round, lass.” He winks lecherously at Aleina.
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  #118  
Unread 27th of June, 2005, 14:19
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Lyr bristles, and opens his mouth to upbraid the men; but suddenly he snaps his jaw closed.

Why not? Why make trouble? Dun can tell them what this Shalm said later. There's no need to risk antagonising these men.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," he says weakly, giving the man a forced, polite smile. He puts his hand on the channeler's arm, his flesh suddenly breaking out in goosebumps as he feels a ghostly-faint, tingling discharge of magic between them.

It brings back a lot of suppressed thoughts and feelings.

"Why don't we go and sit back down, Aleina?" he suggests, meeting her eyes and frantically trying to make his thoughts clear.


OOC: Bluff +1, trying to send a secret message DC 15. Let's hope that Aleina's Sense Motive is better than Lyr's Bluff...
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  #119  
Unread 27th of June, 2005, 15:34
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Dun

"Calm down." Dun said to himself as he looked into the burly man in front of him. "I done me best under the circumstances. Yer brother gave me companion such a hard time, the way I read things, you were no different and perhaps even worse, leavin' me with no choice. Now, ye tell me the truth, you woulda give me not the time of day if I dinna get your attention. I had to do something and I done it with as much discretion as I was able to muster."

His tone softening, Dun continued, "Yes, I took a chance, but Feyd never mentioned a word to us, and little clue had I, how difficult this was gonna to be. Anyways, we're lookin' fer me father... a merchant, whom I heard came this way. If you've seen 'im, you canna' have missed him. Dura Abben's his name, mine's Dun Abben. But more than that, we came from Kingscross where it was put to the torch. Can ye help us?"

Dun gave Shalm a look, not quite of desperation, nor of defiance, but one in which clearly indicated he was in need of help. With a sympathetic tone and his confidence returning, Dun asked, "What's going on here with ye women folk? We are not without resources or skills, if we can lend a helpful hand, we'd do all we can, cuz... well that's how we, my companions and I, are."

OOC: Diplomacy +5 (with Blood of Kings +2 bonus) to pacify Shalm and convince him to help them and open up, and if applicable, Sense Motive +6
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  #120  
Unread 28th of June, 2005, 09:38
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Heulwen, Rhotha’ah, Aashya

At the barest nudge, Cytaill charges, racing forward to assault the charred fell. The wogren eats up the distance with a blazing speed and Heulwen barely has enough time to ready her lance before she’s upon the creature. It has already sunk up to its knees, the earth churning beneath it. Her lance pierces its thigh just below where Cytaill’s jaws find purchase.

Soradur has cast down his axe and is screaming something incoherent in the gravely tongue of the dwarves. His arms wrap around the fell’s waist and he heaves upward with all of his might. Compact muscles flex like rope suddenly drawn taught; he seems to slow the fell, for a moment. He doesn’t see the other fell coming up behind him.

Rhotha’ah screams from his gut, rage flooding from his very soul. He knows not what these fell will do with Aashya, but a part of him fears for her. It’s the same part that fears for what may have already happened to his wife. The mountain of a dorn barrels forward, heedless of his back turned to his foe, Rhotha’ah raises his sword high above his head. While he still draws breath, this thing will not have her.

And it doesn’t.

Blade flashing through the thick air, Rhotha’ah cleaves straight through the skull of the creature, sending a shower of blistering liquid and chunks of rotting brains. Aashya drops to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching her throat. Soradur stoops to help her up, and then the other fell’s hand smashes into the back of his head with a loud crack. The dwarf collapses onto the sarcosan woman without a word.
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  #121  
Unread 28th of June, 2005, 09:50
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Heulwen

Barely given a chance to breath, Heulwen wrests her lance from the flesh of the downed fell and turns it on the other, wheeling Cytaill about to face the other threat.

[OOC: Depending on distance and possible obstruction, charge again, or simply have Cytaill move to attack and Heulwen will also attack with the lance (pending the Ride check, of course).]
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  #122  
Unread 28th of June, 2005, 11:40
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Aashya

An explosion of hot brains and sticky blood, and Aashya falls to the ground, hard. Her raw throat rasps as she gratefully drags in a lungful of the cool night air. Before she can move, a ton of bricks falls on her -- no, no, it's the granite-hard body of the dwarf. She is tumbled over backwards, and the wind is knocked out of her all over again.

Aashya scrambles to be free of Soradur's weight, and to get herself out of reach of the remaining fell. Got.. to help them.. kill it! she thinks, but dreads being caught again.

OOC: crawl out of reach of the fell, and get to her feet if possible
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  #123  
Unread 28th of June, 2005, 22:31
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Aleina

Her mind is focused on their plight, certain that Shalm will be able to provide them with the little insight they need to make a decision. A little part of her is angry at they way this whole venture has been mishandled - by all of them, really. Yet the larger part is simply horrified by the almost casual air of a people living in the shadow of some unspeakable atrocity.

Peripherally, she is aware of the men calling after her, of Lyr's request. But those things pale next to the grip of his hand on her arm. The electric tingle of his presence, muted by constant exposure, rushes back with a crackling surge of heady power. Irrationally, she is seized by the urge to send that spinning vortex of energy at the rude slobs trailing after them, to tap the bright power in his soul and make it obey her will.

Aleina meets his questing gaze, her eyes filled with terrible intensity. She wants to laugh and to cry, to rip the seams of time and space and spill the guts of being into this world of chronic oppression. With a wrench, she pulls her arm back, breaking the spell.

Her eyes search out Dun, then look to the men behind them as her mind attempts to sort out the situation. Still reeling from the dizzing feelings within, she comes to no conclusion, instead simply nodding at Lyr and moving to follow him back to the tavern.

Last edited by Gralhruk; 29th of June, 2005 at 01:08.
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  #124  
Unread 28th of June, 2005, 22:36
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Rhotha'ah

Spattered in gore from the cleaving blow he delivered to the fell, the large Dorn snarls at nothing in particular. As Soradur is dropped on top of Aashya, he remembers the other fell, and turns his gaze towards the undead creature. With yet another roar and a step toward the fell, Rhotha'ah swings the blade of the sword at the creature once again, not content to rest until either he or it lays dead on the ground.

OOC: Moving toward the fell and attacking (again 2-handed).
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  #125  
Unread 29th of June, 2005, 06:46
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Nightcrawler [GM]

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Join Date: Sep 2003
Member: #449
Location: Auckland, NZ
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Lyr

The scholar retracts his arm as soon as Aleina breaks his grip, jerking his hand away as if from a flame. He recoils from the burning focus in the woman's eyes, taking a half step back and flinching slightly.

He exhales, and fancies that his teeth have the after taste of lightning, and that there is smoke on his breath.

Trying to shuffle demurely past the two men, Lyr smiles ingratiatingly. "Yes, let's go back inside and let them talk. What a good idea." He makes his way back to his stool, glancing back several times in case the men decide to turn obstructive where the channeler is concerned.
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