Morian will stick with the group.
She's not actually suicidal.
She would strongly prefer not to flee, however, but otherwise combat is clearly imminent either way.
(You're quite fortunate I've insomnia today).
Blades without a Banner
- Thread starter Shine
- Start date
Morian will stick with the group.
She's not actually suicidal.
She would strongly prefer not to flee, however, but otherwise combat is clearly imminent either way.
(You're quite fortunate I've insomnia today).
- Location
- Leeds
Annoyingly I think I missed the typo I saw on the first pass.
I think I've figured out the plan to get us out of here.
[] Something else?
-[Q] Betray the rest of the group.
I think "It's not a difficult walk" and "It's a rather easy walk" got mixed up here?
"There are no fish" I think
If lost its capital
I think I've figured out the plan to get us out of here.
[] Something else?
-[Q] Betray the rest of the group.
Annoyingly I think I missed the typo I saw on the first pass.
I think "It's not a difficult walk" and "It's a rather easy walk" got mixed up here?
"There are no fish" I think
If lost its capital
I think I've figured out the plan to get us out of here.
[] Something else?
-[Q] Betray the rest of the group.
The second isn't a typo, it's just the cadence of my speech.
But thanks man. It's pretty helpful.
Edit: Just realised what's wrong with the second.
My bad, fixed.
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Holy shit, that thing is scary af. Ngl, I would run, would rather not have our soul be eaten or worse. Maybe use that tunnel with the purified water, it's got to be purified for a reason no?
[X] Pull back, hauling Morian by force if you must. Bar the gate with the heaviest stone you can move, and flee into the tunnels. You want to live!
[X] Pull back, hauling Morian by force if you must. Bar the gate with the heaviest stone you can move, and flee into the tunnels. You want to live!
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- Location
- Leeds
That makes sense.
[X] Pull back, hauling Morian by force if you must. Bar the gate with the heaviest stone you can move, and flee into the tunnels. You want to live!
Oh the other tunnel we explored as a pair was just an uninteresting dead end?
[X] Pull back, hauling Morian by force if you must. Bar the gate with the heaviest stone you can move, and flee into the tunnels. You want to live!
Oh the other tunnel we explored as a pair was just an uninteresting dead end?
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It lead to a separate entrance/ exit, amongst the forest.
The forest you burned to ash.
It wasn't all that helpful in the moment, but a closer entrance into the tunnels beneath may come in handy right now.
Right lads, vote closed.
I wonder if any (of the three of you, plus lurkers) have guessed what the very mundane weakness is, although Morian is about to tell you either way.
(Her explaining disturbing phenomena after the fact seems to be a Thing.)
I'm curious to know whether it was wise to let you pick your warband, or if I should have assigned your party members myself. On one hand, you, the players, got to flex your brains a little more than the usual simplistic choices with a plan vote, it was a decent decision point, and you got to tailor your adventuring party in ways that may have been non-evident to me.
However, giving you this out-of-character power also meant that you were designing a party based off what you believed was down here, and so were working off incomplete information based off what you in character knew. This means that there are some skill sets missing, like certain knowledge sets, or actual magic, that you may have decided to take instead if
you know
you knew you'd be fighting daemons.
On the third hand, if I assigned your party members, I wouldn't be using my OOC knowledge either, I'd be using the best judgement of the NPCs, which also would have been incomplete, so the above isn't that good of a point.
Hm.
I wonder if any (of the three of you, plus lurkers) have guessed what the very mundane weakness is, although Morian is about to tell you either way.
(Her explaining disturbing phenomena after the fact seems to be a Thing.)
I'm curious to know whether it was wise to let you pick your warband, or if I should have assigned your party members myself. On one hand, you, the players, got to flex your brains a little more than the usual simplistic choices with a plan vote, it was a decent decision point, and you got to tailor your adventuring party in ways that may have been non-evident to me.
However, giving you this out-of-character power also meant that you were designing a party based off what you believed was down here, and so were working off incomplete information based off what you in character knew. This means that there are some skill sets missing, like certain knowledge sets, or actual magic, that you may have decided to take instead if
you know
you knew you'd be fighting daemons.
On the third hand, if I assigned your party members, I wouldn't be using my OOC knowledge either, I'd be using the best judgement of the NPCs, which also would have been incomplete, so the above isn't that good of a point.
Hm.
DC 6
-4 (Centuries of Loss)
+3 (Eloh, Kalastar, Solemiva!)
+1 (Runic Regeneration)
DC 6
2, 3, 10, 4
-4 (Centuries of Loss)
+3 (Eloh, Kalastar, Solemiva!)
+1 (Runic Regeneration)
DC 6
2, 3, 10, 4
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- Location
- Leeds
Hmmmm I think you're giving too much credit here. I was mostly picking based on who I was interested in interacting with and then picking arbitrarily when there was nothing I knew to differentiate them. Its kinda hard to know how the skill sets of the two templars or the various sailors where different.
The skill sets of the Templars and the Veteran Crew were all effectively identical to the others of their kind.
(Morian is actually literate, unlike Tamari, but it's not in Elvish, so.. eh.)
However, the more unique differentiations all had different sets. You already know Solyn and Talyn's- the former is a scout and ranger, the other a clever and experienced tactician. To add onto it, Kolo is a theologian, a divine caster and a priest (with all the cultural reverence that implies for the rest of you), and would have almost certainly assumed leadership if he had joined you, while Etarly is even headed, pragmatic and diplomatic (although you cover that to an extent), and knows a small* bit more about runes and enchantment than the rest of you, being an Erin native.
But what's done is done, and it's hard to say you've done badly so far.
(*As in, +1 bonus small.)
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Proly would have taken the priest dude if we had known we were going to be dealing with demons and curses and whatnot, especially now with the boss looking to munch on our souls. But the choosing our own party members felt pretty natural, not like we knew for certain what was down there after all.
Ooh! Interesting new quest! Kinda reminds me of the shipsailing in Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire with all lf the logs Talyn writes.
BOO, HISS!
AS AN ALBION EXPY Y NO?
REAP THE WHIRLWIND!
LOOT! LOOT! LOOT!
YUS! Loot wins!
As expected for fellow loot goblins!
But my noggin tells me
Going Hodor is the most tactically beneficial for the continued survival of the whole party.
Otherwise, spreading out and swarm him ala the Baldur's Gate method of Dragon slaying could work… It's not as if the abomination has eyes on the back of his head yes?
BOO, HISS!
AS AN ALBION EXPY Y NO?
REAP THE WHIRLWIND!
LOOT! LOOT! LOOT!
YUS! Loot wins!
As expected for fellow loot goblins!
My burning shounen heart tells me this is the correct answer…
But my noggin tells me
Going Hodor is the most tactically beneficial for the continued survival of the whole party.
Otherwise, spreading out and swarm him ala the Baldur's Gate method of Dragon slaying could work… It's not as if the abomination has eyes on the back of his head yes?
Ah, switched out Talyn with Halna, thinking the former was the one writing… D'oh!
Bloodied Miracles
[X] Pull back, hauling Morian by force if you must. Bar the gate with the heaviest stone you can move, and flee into the tunnels. You want to live!
All Islefolk want to be heroes when they are young, squabbling with fists and sticks until they mature intol steel. Whether your favourite story was that of Calliope, Korlys, Draugnir or Eldrys, all had a single thing in common, one of the highest virtues of the Islefolk- courage. The resolve to stand against any foe for the sake of those behind you, the knowledge not just in mind, but in the depths of the soul, that some things are more important than life. Such is a mark of greatness.
As he (if such a heinous blotch deserves a gender) comes sweeping towards you, mouth unhinged and inhaling with storm-like fervour, by some unspoken agreement you and Solyn slam shut the door, right after pulling Morian through. In hindsight, you would admit that courage was scarce- but you would be alive to admit it. As the door is closed firm once more, you feel more than see some hidden attribute reawaken, a sudden warmth emanating in an oddly patterned shape, but you can't find it in yourself to care right now.
'To the tunnels!', Talyn half orders, half demands, and no one countermands her. Solyn leads a dead sprint towards the hidden entrance in the ashes of the woods, a bewildered Morian swept along with the crowd. The terrain is largely clear, but in the brief stint you saw the daemon charge you don't know if you could make it in time. The forest hatch is closer to the entrance than the ruins, but now seems terribly far. If that creature were to fall on your backs… how long could a wooden door hold it, no matter how elegantly made?
The sound of the door being sundered behind you instinctively makes you glance back, a whim that you immediately regret. Claws like swords scrape downwards through the wood, shredding it not with strength and sharpness, but through an almost corrosive touch- the wood withering away on contact as if aged catastrophically. A gaunt, elongated hand pulls away, a pair grips the edge of the door, and the daemon lowers himself to attempt to pull him way through in a frenetic, second long manoeuvre.
He promptly crumples into mid air.
Slightly behind where the door was, a pale blue barrier manifests to your sight, a trifecta of elvish Elvish burning like brands as defences long dormant find themselves no longer ham-stringed by patient sabotage. From the other side of the arcane ward you see nothing and hear less, yet none of you stop to question your good fortune. Before your eyes, the initially incandescent sigils start to fade, but even if they do not last, whoever had placed them there may have saved your life.
'Why the tunnels?', Morian insists, even as she follows the rest of you inside. The side entrance is narrow and poorly lit, only enough room for a single file to move comfortably, but in this case you would count that as a benefit.
'Everywhere's a chokepoint! Did you know? How do we fight it?'
'No! Just outlast its existence!'
'What about the water?', you interject over Talyn's bitter cursing. 'It didn't seem normal'
'I don't know, and I don't know how we'd submerge it either!'
You almost trip over a sudden dip, second in the line, before you start the gentle climb into the central tunnel chamber that you know of. Where do you stand your ground? How do you strike it? Do you stand your ground, or just keep desperately scrabbling for time until it's done? How long can you run, when you're all weighed down by your armour, and your pursuer capable of speed granted by size and sorcery both?
You don't know the answers to any of those questions, and nor will you ever have to. A moment after you come into the central chamber, the daemon does as well- slithering not through the same entry way as you, but from the side and above, roiling down the wider courtyard entrance. A groan of shock spills involuntarily from several lips as he- in a new form, but he nonetheless- infernally spills into the room, all humanoid aspirations entirely abandoned. Now he resembles nothing more or less but a coiling rope of sight defying shadowy oblivion, as thick as your waist, speckled with bursts of malevolent red light at random interval. Smoke literally billows from his form, spilling out from what seem to be wounds that mark its flanks.
At your entrance, he shivers, as if delighted, before his forward and closer end shivers and splits. Expanding like a cone or piscine mouth, light itself seems to be inhaled from the room, the sconces you had lit before you left all simultaneously dimming to embers.
Then, just as you and Solyn shout a warning, he slams his vaguely worm like bulk back down towards you, and exhales a cloud of pure white smoke.
The next moment, all you see ahead of you is actively glowing white, flowing towards you like a raging tide. There's no space to retreat, no clever way to dodge- however the spell was targeted, the effects are centred squarely on you. Without the ability to take flight, you have only one recourse, one course of action your legs pursue before you've time to think.
You pitch yourself forwards into the fog, diving into a roll to minimise contact while holding your breath, and for a drawn out moment there is pain. Fire seems to scourge every inch of exposed skin, and then more- leaking under your helm, into your armour, scratching against your shut eyes. Your hauberk sizzles audibly as something eats away at it, and weight suddenly sloughs off your back as you feel more than hear your quiver give way. You tumble, head over heels, and that second seems like eternity.
You've been branded before, you tell yourself, seeing nothing but void and feeling little but pain. It's not so bad, you lie. You can endure, and you almost do not.
When you burst through, you kip to your feet unconsciously, a lifetime of drills driving you forward where your mind still feels left behind. Around and behind you is more of the fog, but it's fresh air that flows into struggling breaths and cools skin that smarts at the memory of an illusion of agony. Your bow is gone, but your axe remains, and it is all you need to do what your kin excel at best.
You see a towering monster, stooped under the stony confines, its form writhing with lasting wounds and coursing mana, its hide reflecting not light but your own tortured memories, the faces of your kin decayed as if long dead, and you swing.
You advance without thinking, swing without pausing, and even though the daemon can move much swifter than you could dream, there is not enough space to dodge. Even as his form seems to shrink as you score two, three deep wounds across its almost rubbery hide, you only press in and in and in- too terrified to run, too adrenalised to stop, as your axe screams back and forth and wounds with every strike- small things, on a creature so large, but injury nonetheless. There must be more fighting around you, beside you even, but you see nothing but the foe and hear nothing but yourself, howling rabidly in adrenaline and terror.
You charge with a breathless, reckless fury, until you're knocked off your feet as you feel your mind split. A spike of rage and pain seems to drive through your skull as you slump to your knees, eyes watering in shock, and you realise quite how far ahead you've charged- not far in an open field, but shockingly so in these darkened confines. Looming above, made larger by your kneeling, the daemon rattles, shivering and spamming, before one of the wounds twists and opens wide, wider than you, and from within its belly comes a pulsating blob of smaller daemons- still dripping from their sudden birth, impossible ichor dissolving into nothingness mid air.
You realise your plight a moment before, and…
Force yourself to stand, spiking upwards into a mass that splits gruesomely on impact. Voidlings scatter around you, shifting and shuddering, and if not for the fact that they seem sluggish in their sudden existence you may have died there and then…
But they are slow, too slow to surround you before the others attack them with a fury. Solyn and Heln plunge in beside you, steel flashing in the dying light, and the only strength of the Voidlings dwindles to nothing as they're culled faster than they can advance. Talyn slips through the taller men, crushing your last foe against a wall in her passage, and the two of you need no prompt not plan to charge together. It's writhing coils slam down ahead of you, seeking to pin your axe in place, but not even an abomination like this has eyes at the back of its head. Cunningly, Talyn slips around and past its attention as it bears down on your head, and before it can crush you into pulp she falls upon its back- viciously mauling the wounds you first created. Her shorter blade bites and bleeds with a fevered intensity, and before your eyes the oily, gaseous mass reduces and reduces, until suddenly, instead of being crushed into the ground, you are pushing back!
It's impossible to tell who's screaming what in the melee, both Islefolk and monster wailing in pain and fury, but what follows next cuts through the noise like a prow through water. Perhaps you should have seen it coming, but as it coils in and in and inwards still, abandoning offence entirely, the pair of you follow every step- follow far too close.
When it explodes outwards in a blindingly blank wave of force, you can do nothing but mentally stall as you're suddenly airborne- before you smash, shoulder first, against the far end of the cavern. Your arm gives out at the joint, dislocating painfully against the hard frame of your armour, pain roars up your side, and for a long second your world is dark, and then you suddenly awake from a momentary stun.
'-er name! IN HER NAME!'
You force yourself upright and forwards, your world spinning again in quick succession as you painfully reset your arm, but where in most melees such a break would cost you dearly here you can do so unharmed. Your enemy has assumed a third and ragged form, something truly humanoid and human sized- vaguely resembling one of the constructs in form, if even now still splitting at the seems with desperate power. Eyes somehow glowing abyssal black, they fight with a pair of summoned blades, sinuously flexing and twisting as if anatomy was only a suggestion, and still he's forced up the tunnel- step by step.
Heln harries him from afar, jabbing at his forehead with opportunistic strikes, while Solyn guards a dazed Talyn from almost nonchalantly targeted finishing blows. Front and centre, however, stands Morian, who fights a horror that moves so fast he seems to blur, and who is winning.
Two, three, four rapid strikes scatter off her shield or scrape against her armour, and each time this flurry is answered with a single blow- but no matter how much he twists or spins, he cannot change that every one of her strikes cleaves straight through, mundane steel splitting ethereal defences through the power of her will instead of flesh. You cannot see his face, but you can read the agitation in his motions as he's outreached, outnumbered, and slowly outmatched, weakening with every moment more in a world that fundamentally rejects him.
You don't know when you realise it, exactly, awed as you are by this display of fearless resolve, but the change in his stance comes too late for you to warn. He throws his blade like a dart into Heln, who narrowly blocks the strike but is tumbled off his feet, and seeing victory, Morian leaps forward with a fearless, perfect strike- one that he steps into.
'FOR THE CR-'
'JOIN HER!'
Skewered completely through, dark power spews wildly from both ends, but not fast enough to stop him from grabbing and engulfing her entirely. Amorphous acid clouds around the women, daemonic magics slithering up her arm and neck, and for the moment before disaster he holds her as tightly as a lover, dark magic encasing her torso like a coating of paint, like the scales of a snake.
Then, every inch, every speck, every gasp of vapour and everything he is becomes pitch black, ravenous flame.
For a moment, she doesn't seem to have realised, staring straight ahead in bewilderment, sword still raised, and then she screams in agony. Burning hair and flesh and overheated metal immediately fills the chamber with their unpleasant scents, as she hurls herself to the ground and awkwardly flails, desperately attempting to slow the flames. Cursing copiously, you and everyone else rush over and promptly douse her with your flasks, but you're not sure if that truly helps- though, it's not as if you could hope to touch her in this state.
In another few, horrid seconds it is over, unnatural flames guttering out, but unlike your own burns, Morian's are agonisingly real. She roughly rasps for air, Solyn tearing away her metal veil to reveal its imprint has been scorched across her face, and only by the grace of the Queen do her eyes seem intact. Still involuntarily twitching, she turns a watery gaze to the four of you surrounding her, a thought choking through the haze of pain in her gaze and out of her metal-branded lips.
'…win?'
'Yes. Shut up,', Talyn hisses as you carefully roll her onto Heln's shield. 'You just need to breathe.'
————————-
After evacuating her to the river, you need to decide what to do now.
Morian is ironclad confident you've won. For good. No more daemons. You hope she's not just wishfully thinking.
After treatment, Geln is at 3/4 Health, Morian at 1/4 Health, and everyone else at full. Morian can still walk, but you suspect her mind is doing more work than her legs in that, and she's ditched the smoking remnants of her armour entirely.
[] Evacuate this place for good. Daemons dead, heroic deed done. You collectively decide you're sick of this place.
[] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
This category is only applied if the second wins.
[] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[] One of the gates is surrounded by a mosaic of an open road, with people on it- the sick, the weary, the wounded. They all travel on a pilgrimage towards some unseen saviour.
[] The last is the smallest and most humble gate. It has no particular decor, but does have several runes instead of one above it. Closer, it smells of ink, and something baking.
Additionally… for your first boss fight, have a reward (And some XP on the sheet).
[] Agile
+1 Defence
+2 On tests of reflexes.
+1 On tests of flexibility and balance.
There is no price for a moment more in battle.
[] Veteran
Ignore an extra wound penalty.
+1 to physical and social courage, endurance, small scale tactics, intimidation and commanding militant respect.
Your eyes seem a decade older than the rest of you.
[] Fearless
Ignore an extra wound penalty. +1 Melee Attack.
+2 Physical and Social Courage.
Encourages fearless or reckless behaviour.
Nothing in the mortal world compares to what you did today.
You have two days to vote, at least.
Questions of all sorts welcomes.
All Islefolk want to be heroes when they are young, squabbling with fists and sticks until they mature intol steel. Whether your favourite story was that of Calliope, Korlys, Draugnir or Eldrys, all had a single thing in common, one of the highest virtues of the Islefolk- courage. The resolve to stand against any foe for the sake of those behind you, the knowledge not just in mind, but in the depths of the soul, that some things are more important than life. Such is a mark of greatness.
As he (if such a heinous blotch deserves a gender) comes sweeping towards you, mouth unhinged and inhaling with storm-like fervour, by some unspoken agreement you and Solyn slam shut the door, right after pulling Morian through. In hindsight, you would admit that courage was scarce- but you would be alive to admit it. As the door is closed firm once more, you feel more than see some hidden attribute reawaken, a sudden warmth emanating in an oddly patterned shape, but you can't find it in yourself to care right now.
'To the tunnels!', Talyn half orders, half demands, and no one countermands her. Solyn leads a dead sprint towards the hidden entrance in the ashes of the woods, a bewildered Morian swept along with the crowd. The terrain is largely clear, but in the brief stint you saw the daemon charge you don't know if you could make it in time. The forest hatch is closer to the entrance than the ruins, but now seems terribly far. If that creature were to fall on your backs… how long could a wooden door hold it, no matter how elegantly made?
The sound of the door being sundered behind you instinctively makes you glance back, a whim that you immediately regret. Claws like swords scrape downwards through the wood, shredding it not with strength and sharpness, but through an almost corrosive touch- the wood withering away on contact as if aged catastrophically. A gaunt, elongated hand pulls away, a pair grips the edge of the door, and the daemon lowers himself to attempt to pull him way through in a frenetic, second long manoeuvre.
He promptly crumples into mid air.
DC 6
-4 (Centuries of Loss)
+3 (Eloh, Kalastar, Solemiva!)
+1 (Runic Regeneration)
DC 6
2, 3, 10, 4
3/ ?
Tactical Retreat
DC 6
+3 (Average Bonus)
DC 9
5, 1, 3, 7
Monstrous Pursuit
DC 6
+2 (Soulsight)
-2 (Atmospheric Interference)
DC 6
2, 3, 6, 6
5/?
-4 (Centuries of Loss)
+3 (Eloh, Kalastar, Solemiva!)
+1 (Runic Regeneration)
DC 6
2, 3, 10, 4
3/ ?
Tactical Retreat
DC 6
+3 (Average Bonus)
DC 9
5, 1, 3, 7
Monstrous Pursuit
DC 6
+2 (Soulsight)
-2 (Atmospheric Interference)
DC 6
2, 3, 6, 6
5/?
Slightly behind where the door was, a pale blue barrier manifests to your sight, a trifecta of elvish Elvish burning like brands as defences long dormant find themselves no longer ham-stringed by patient sabotage. From the other side of the arcane ward you see nothing and hear less, yet none of you stop to question your good fortune. Before your eyes, the initially incandescent sigils start to fade, but even if they do not last, whoever had placed them there may have saved your life.
'Why the tunnels?', Morian insists, even as she follows the rest of you inside. The side entrance is narrow and poorly lit, only enough room for a single file to move comfortably, but in this case you would count that as a benefit.
'Everywhere's a chokepoint! Did you know? How do we fight it?'
'No! Just outlast its existence!'
'What about the water?', you interject over Talyn's bitter cursing. 'It didn't seem normal'
'I don't know, and I don't know how we'd submerge it either!'
You almost trip over a sudden dip, second in the line, before you start the gentle climb into the central tunnel chamber that you know of. Where do you stand your ground? How do you strike it? Do you stand your ground, or just keep desperately scrabbling for time until it's done? How long can you run, when you're all weighed down by your armour, and your pursuer capable of speed granted by size and sorcery both?
You don't know the answers to any of those questions, and nor will you ever have to. A moment after you come into the central chamber, the daemon does as well- slithering not through the same entry way as you, but from the side and above, roiling down the wider courtyard entrance. A groan of shock spills involuntarily from several lips as he- in a new form, but he nonetheless- infernally spills into the room, all humanoid aspirations entirely abandoned. Now he resembles nothing more or less but a coiling rope of sight defying shadowy oblivion, as thick as your waist, speckled with bursts of malevolent red light at random interval. Smoke literally billows from his form, spilling out from what seem to be wounds that mark its flanks.
At your entrance, he shivers, as if delighted, before his forward and closer end shivers and splits. Expanding like a cone or piscine mouth, light itself seems to be inhaled from the room, the sconces you had lit before you left all simultaneously dimming to embers.
Then, just as you and Solyn shout a warning, he slams his vaguely worm like bulk back down towards you, and exhales a cloud of pure white smoke.
Daemon casts Burning Shroud, targeting Solyn, Geln and Heln.
DC 3
+1 (Secondary target)
+2 (Agile)
DC 6
3, 5, 7, 5
Solyn takes 1 damage.
Spell rerolls successful saves, and can sunder.
Armour 5, Pierce 0
6
1 Wound.
DC 3
1 (!) 3, 6, 10 (!)
You take 2 Damage.
Armour 5, Pierce 0, all saves rerolled.
2, 3
2, 5
No Wounds.
Your Greatbow is damaged, but you move to an advantageous position.
DC 3
+1 (Secondary Target)
+2 (Agile)
+1 (Shield)
DC 7
2, 5, 4, 6
Heln evades harm completely.
DC 3
+1 (Secondary target)
+2 (Agile)
DC 6
3, 5, 7, 5
Solyn takes 1 damage.
Spell rerolls successful saves, and can sunder.
Armour 5, Pierce 0
6
1 Wound.
DC 3
1 (!) 3, 6, 10 (!)
You take 2 Damage.
Armour 5, Pierce 0, all saves rerolled.
2, 3
2, 5
No Wounds.
Your Greatbow is damaged, but you move to an advantageous position.
DC 3
+1 (Secondary Target)
+2 (Agile)
+1 (Shield)
DC 7
2, 5, 4, 6
Heln evades harm completely.
The next moment, all you see ahead of you is actively glowing white, flowing towards you like a raging tide. There's no space to retreat, no clever way to dodge- however the spell was targeted, the effects are centred squarely on you. Without the ability to take flight, you have only one recourse, one course of action your legs pursue before you've time to think.
You pitch yourself forwards into the fog, diving into a roll to minimise contact while holding your breath, and for a drawn out moment there is pain. Fire seems to scourge every inch of exposed skin, and then more- leaking under your helm, into your armour, scratching against your shut eyes. Your hauberk sizzles audibly as something eats away at it, and weight suddenly sloughs off your back as you feel more than hear your quiver give way. You tumble, head over heels, and that second seems like eternity.
You've been branded before, you tell yourself, seeing nothing but void and feeling little but pain. It's not so bad, you lie. You can endure, and you almost do not.
When you burst through, you kip to your feet unconsciously, a lifetime of drills driving you forward where your mind still feels left behind. Around and behind you is more of the fog, but it's fresh air that flows into struggling breaths and cools skin that smarts at the memory of an illusion of agony. Your bow is gone, but your axe remains, and it is all you need to do what your kin excel at best.
You see a towering monster, stooped under the stony confines, its form writhing with lasting wounds and coursing mana, its hide reflecting not light but your own tortured memories, the faces of your kin decayed as if long dead, and you swing.
DC 3
+2 (Physical Might)
+2 (Martial Prowess)
+2 (Excellent Position)
DC 9
4, 4, 2, 6
6/?
Solyn strikes with advantage.
DC 3
+2 (Physical Might)
+2 (Martial Prowess)
+2 (Seizing Advantage)
DC 9
10, 2, 2, 10
No damage.
Morian strikes from a distance.
DC 3
+4 (Corrosive Wave)
+2 (Single Minded Accuracy)
DC 9
10, 4, 2, 10
No damage.
I feel second hand disappointment.
Everyone enters the room.
7/?
+2 (Physical Might)
+2 (Martial Prowess)
+2 (Excellent Position)
DC 9
4, 4, 2, 6
6/?
Solyn strikes with advantage.
DC 3
+2 (Physical Might)
+2 (Martial Prowess)
+2 (Seizing Advantage)
DC 9
10, 2, 2, 10
No damage.
Morian strikes from a distance.
DC 3
+4 (Corrosive Wave)
+2 (Single Minded Accuracy)
DC 9
10, 4, 2, 10
No damage.
I feel second hand disappointment.
Everyone enters the room.
7/?
You advance without thinking, swing without pausing, and even though the daemon can move much swifter than you could dream, there is not enough space to dodge. Even as his form seems to shrink as you score two, three deep wounds across its almost rubbery hide, you only press in and in and in- too terrified to run, too adrenalised to stop, as your axe screams back and forth and wounds with every strike- small things, on a creature so large, but injury nonetheless. There must be more fighting around you, beside you even, but you see nothing but the foe and hear nothing but yourself, howling rabidly in adrenaline and terror.
You charge with a breathless, reckless fury, until you're knocked off your feet as you feel your mind split. A spike of rage and pain seems to drive through your skull as you slump to your knees, eyes watering in shock, and you realise quite how far ahead you've charged- not far in an open field, but shockingly so in these darkened confines. Looming above, made larger by your kneeling, the daemon rattles, shivering and spamming, before one of the wounds twists and opens wide, wider than you, and from within its belly comes a pulsating blob of smaller daemons- still dripping from their sudden birth, impossible ichor dissolving into nothingness mid air.
You realise your plight a moment before, and…
3d4= 8 Voidlings
DC 3
+4 (Powerful)
+1 (Unarmed Prowess)
DC 7
9, 5, 6, 9
You start in combat with two voidlings.
DC 3
+4 (Powerful)
+1 (Unarmed Prowess)
DC 7
9, 5, 6, 9
You start in combat with two voidlings.
Force yourself to stand, spiking upwards into a mass that splits gruesomely on impact. Voidlings scatter around you, shifting and shuddering, and if not for the fact that they seem sluggish in their sudden existence you may have died there and then…
Heln Charges!
+Adept Spears, Spear & Shield, Medium Armour, Strong, Agile, Perceptive, Deft
-Novice Unarmed, Psuedopod, Daemonic Warding
DC 9/10
Instant Kill
Huh.
That summon spell isn't as strong as I thought it was.
Heln can reach and clear four Voidlings.
Solyn Charges!
+ A Lot
-Not Enough
DC 9/10
1, 3, 3, 8
Dead
DC 9/10
1, 1, 3, 9
Dead
DC 9/10
3, 6, 7, 9
Dead
Talyn charges in to free you up.
+Talyn Bonuses + Solyn's backup.
-Not Enough
DC 9/10
7, 7, 5, 4
Dead
Note to self- against actual warrior archetypes, Voidlings are nothing but tar pits that might score a wound.. unless they're charged, which goes even worse.
Talyn Cleaves
DC 3
+2 (Physical Might)
+1 (Martial Prowess)
DC 6
6, 6, 6, 8
8/?
Daemon goes full on one winged angel.
Talyn's Saving Throw
DC 4
+1 (Islefolk)
+1 (Tough)
+1 (Shield)
DC 7
10 (!), 3, 1 (!), 9
2 Damage.
Armour 6, Pierce 4
6, 2
1 Wound
Talyn stands her ground.
Geln's Saving Throw.
DC 4
+1 (Islefolk)
DC 5
5, 6, 8, 8
3 Damage
Armour 5, Pierce 4
5, 1, 3
2 Wounds
Geln's thrown across the room.
9/???
Morian charges.
DC 4
+2 (Physical Might)
+2 (Martial Prowess)
+1 (In Her Name!)
-1 (Exhaustion)
DC 8
9, 1, 6, 6
10/???
+Adept Spears, Spear & Shield, Medium Armour, Strong, Agile, Perceptive, Deft
-Novice Unarmed, Psuedopod, Daemonic Warding
DC 9/10
Instant Kill
Huh.
That summon spell isn't as strong as I thought it was.
Heln can reach and clear four Voidlings.
Solyn Charges!
+ A Lot
-Not Enough
DC 9/10
1, 3, 3, 8
Dead
DC 9/10
1, 1, 3, 9
Dead
DC 9/10
3, 6, 7, 9
Dead
Talyn charges in to free you up.
+Talyn Bonuses + Solyn's backup.
-Not Enough
DC 9/10
7, 7, 5, 4
Dead
Note to self- against actual warrior archetypes, Voidlings are nothing but tar pits that might score a wound.. unless they're charged, which goes even worse.
Talyn Cleaves
DC 3
+2 (Physical Might)
+1 (Martial Prowess)
DC 6
6, 6, 6, 8
8/?
Daemon goes full on one winged angel.
Talyn's Saving Throw
DC 4
+1 (Islefolk)
+1 (Tough)
+1 (Shield)
DC 7
10 (!), 3, 1 (!), 9
2 Damage.
Armour 6, Pierce 4
6, 2
1 Wound
Talyn stands her ground.
Geln's Saving Throw.
DC 4
+1 (Islefolk)
DC 5
5, 6, 8, 8
3 Damage
Armour 5, Pierce 4
5, 1, 3
2 Wounds
Geln's thrown across the room.
9/???
Morian charges.
DC 4
+2 (Physical Might)
+2 (Martial Prowess)
+1 (In Her Name!)
-1 (Exhaustion)
DC 8
9, 1, 6, 6
10/???
But they are slow, too slow to surround you before the others attack them with a fury. Solyn and Heln plunge in beside you, steel flashing in the dying light, and the only strength of the Voidlings dwindles to nothing as they're culled faster than they can advance. Talyn slips through the taller men, crushing your last foe against a wall in her passage, and the two of you need no prompt not plan to charge together. It's writhing coils slam down ahead of you, seeking to pin your axe in place, but not even an abomination like this has eyes at the back of its head. Cunningly, Talyn slips around and past its attention as it bears down on your head, and before it can crush you into pulp she falls upon its back- viciously mauling the wounds you first created. Her shorter blade bites and bleeds with a fevered intensity, and before your eyes the oily, gaseous mass reduces and reduces, until suddenly, instead of being crushed into the ground, you are pushing back!
It's impossible to tell who's screaming what in the melee, both Islefolk and monster wailing in pain and fury, but what follows next cuts through the noise like a prow through water. Perhaps you should have seen it coming, but as it coils in and in and inwards still, abandoning offence entirely, the pair of you follow every step- follow far too close.
When it explodes outwards in a blindingly blank wave of force, you can do nothing but mentally stall as you're suddenly airborne- before you smash, shoulder first, against the far end of the cavern. Your arm gives out at the joint, dislocating painfully against the hard frame of your armour, pain roars up your side, and for a long second your world is dark, and then you suddenly awake from a momentary stun.
'-er name! IN HER NAME!'
You force yourself upright and forwards, your world spinning again in quick succession as you painfully reset your arm, but where in most melees such a break would cost you dearly here you can do so unharmed. Your enemy has assumed a third and ragged form, something truly humanoid and human sized- vaguely resembling one of the constructs in form, if even now still splitting at the seems with desperate power. Eyes somehow glowing abyssal black, they fight with a pair of summoned blades, sinuously flexing and twisting as if anatomy was only a suggestion, and still he's forced up the tunnel- step by step.
Heln harries him from afar, jabbing at his forehead with opportunistic strikes, while Solyn guards a dazed Talyn from almost nonchalantly targeted finishing blows. Front and centre, however, stands Morian, who fights a horror that moves so fast he seems to blur, and who is winning.
Two, three, four rapid strikes scatter off her shield or scrape against her armour, and each time this flurry is answered with a single blow- but no matter how much he twists or spins, he cannot change that every one of her strikes cleaves straight through, mundane steel splitting ethereal defences through the power of her will instead of flesh. You cannot see his face, but you can read the agitation in his motions as he's outreached, outnumbered, and slowly outmatched, weakening with every moment more in a world that fundamentally rejects him.
You don't know when you realise it, exactly, awed as you are by this display of fearless resolve, but the change in his stance comes too late for you to warn. He throws his blade like a dart into Heln, who narrowly blocks the strike but is tumbled off his feet, and seeing victory, Morian leaps forward with a fearless, perfect strike- one that he steps into.
'FOR THE CR-'
'JOIN HER!'
Skewered completely through, dark power spews wildly from both ends, but not fast enough to stop him from grabbing and engulfing her entirely. Amorphous acid clouds around the women, daemonic magics slithering up her arm and neck, and for the moment before disaster he holds her as tightly as a lover, dark magic encasing her torso like a coating of paint, like the scales of a snake.
Then, every inch, every speck, every gasp of vapour and everything he is becomes pitch black, ravenous flame.
Automatic Casualty, Four Damage. Pierce 4, Reroll Saves, Sunder.
Armour 7, Pierce 4
3, 3
9
1, 8
5
3 Wounds.
Armour 7, Pierce 4
3, 3
9
1, 8
5
3 Wounds.
For a moment, she doesn't seem to have realised, staring straight ahead in bewilderment, sword still raised, and then she screams in agony. Burning hair and flesh and overheated metal immediately fills the chamber with their unpleasant scents, as she hurls herself to the ground and awkwardly flails, desperately attempting to slow the flames. Cursing copiously, you and everyone else rush over and promptly douse her with your flasks, but you're not sure if that truly helps- though, it's not as if you could hope to touch her in this state.
In another few, horrid seconds it is over, unnatural flames guttering out, but unlike your own burns, Morian's are agonisingly real. She roughly rasps for air, Solyn tearing away her metal veil to reveal its imprint has been scorched across her face, and only by the grace of the Queen do her eyes seem intact. Still involuntarily twitching, she turns a watery gaze to the four of you surrounding her, a thought choking through the haze of pain in her gaze and out of her metal-branded lips.
'…win?'
'Yes. Shut up,', Talyn hisses as you carefully roll her onto Heln's shield. 'You just need to breathe.'
————————-
After evacuating her to the river, you need to decide what to do now.
Morian is ironclad confident you've won. For good. No more daemons. You hope she's not just wishfully thinking.
After treatment, Geln is at 3/4 Health, Morian at 1/4 Health, and everyone else at full. Morian can still walk, but you suspect her mind is doing more work than her legs in that, and she's ditched the smoking remnants of her armour entirely.
[] Evacuate this place for good. Daemons dead, heroic deed done. You collectively decide you're sick of this place.
[] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
This category is only applied if the second wins.
[] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[] One of the gates is surrounded by a mosaic of an open road, with people on it- the sick, the weary, the wounded. They all travel on a pilgrimage towards some unseen saviour.
[] The last is the smallest and most humble gate. It has no particular decor, but does have several runes instead of one above it. Closer, it smells of ink, and something baking.
Additionally… for your first boss fight, have a reward (And some XP on the sheet).
[] Agile
+1 Defence
+2 On tests of reflexes.
+1 On tests of flexibility and balance.
There is no price for a moment more in battle.
[] Veteran
Ignore an extra wound penalty.
+1 to physical and social courage, endurance, small scale tactics, intimidation and commanding militant respect.
Your eyes seem a decade older than the rest of you.
[] Fearless
Ignore an extra wound penalty. +1 Melee Attack.
+2 Physical and Social Courage.
Encourages fearless or reckless behaviour.
Nothing in the mortal world compares to what you did today.
You have two days to vote, at least.
Questions of all sorts welcomes.
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- Location
- Leeds
Dunno about recklessness given we just started this by running away but being able to face future threats and say "Sure you're scary but you're not centipede demon scary" although veteran also does that in a different way.
If we can get back to the surface, will the topside group be coming down after us or sending reinforcements? Or will they be avoiding doing that incase it resets the trap/tests?
[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Fearless
If we can get back to the surface, will the topside group be coming down after us or sending reinforcements? Or will they be avoiding doing that incase it resets the trap/tests?
[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Fearless
[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Fearless
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Fearless
[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Fearless
Damn that was a close one, welp dungeon cleared and now for the piles of loot! Geln's some poor exile shmuck so he'll need whatever fancy stuff that we can get him.
Fearless seems an apt choice for what we just did, killing some demon thing doesn't happen all the time after all
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Fearless
Damn that was a close one, welp dungeon cleared and now for the piles of loot! Geln's some poor exile shmuck so he'll need whatever fancy stuff that we can get him.
Fearless seems an apt choice for what we just did, killing some demon thing doesn't happen all the time after all
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[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
Both fearless and veteran are more manifestations of how this experience changed you, than mechanical reflections of how you've acted. Defeating a giant sorcerer daemon can really make you reevaluate your risk assessments.
As for the latter.. you don't know.
It's only been less than three hours down here, so they should still be there. However, Blessed Kolo was adamant on the arbitrary number restriction, and that's probably linked to the powerful magics in this place. What he does next (as he has the final word here), you don't know.
I wonder why you're all going for the warrior gate.
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- Location
- Leeds
Ah yes and the lesson we took if we pick Agile, "They can't kill you if they can't hit you"
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=plXIfAQ_JWw
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- Pronouns
- God
[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
Damn the MC is a badass, sure I knew it intellectually but this just shows how badass he is.
I feel like Veteran would be fitting since it is the MC learning from this instead of becoming more reckless and berserker like. Also I like the extra benefits of endurance, tactics, intimidation and commanding respect, all of which will be very useful in the future. Sure Fearless gives more courage and melee attack but the MC already has that in abundance and it also comes with the downside of recklessness.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
Damn the MC is a badass, sure I knew it intellectually but this just shows how badass he is.
I feel like Veteran would be fitting since it is the MC learning from this instead of becoming more reckless and berserker like. Also I like the extra benefits of endurance, tactics, intimidation and commanding respect, all of which will be very useful in the future. Sure Fearless gives more courage and melee attack but the MC already has that in abundance and it also comes with the downside of recklessness.
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[X] Heln evacuates Morian to the surface, so Kolo can try to prevent permanent damage before it's too late. The rest of you start poking the other gates while he's away.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
I'd rather veteran win than fearless tbqh. Still would prefer agile.
-[X] The most militant one. The gate is barred with steel, and the decor brings to mind the banners trusted hearthguard are tasked to defend.
[X] Veteran
I'd rather veteran win than fearless tbqh. Still would prefer agile.