Finding the Spark (Pathfinder 1E Quest)

[DragonParadox]

Riding on the Edge ​

29th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

Steeds and carriages fly through the middle of the day under branch and wide blue sky as the waters of the Iseld rush along on one side. True, there had been some teething, part of it literal as the hatchlings try to gnaw on the smoke-wood doors and even adult iruxi are troubled at the thought of riding upon beasts that move only when they are bid and stop without protest, needing neither food nor rest, but the journey had gone well enough. The wind from the north, spell conjured, driving you all on helping to bear the weight of the journey as once it had done at the call of the Farseeker's priests. A touch of irony to that, you admit, scaled-folk fleeing the lands of an empire that counts itself the heir of the High Realm now the plaything of devils, though perhaps in his tomb the dead god might smile at slipping the noose of those who so twist his command to seek out new places and wander until the end of the cosmos, ever-curious.

Alas, the riverbank, the swiftest path to the sea though it be, places your company in sight of barges and skiffs that slide down river with cargo of timber, amber, iron, and raw wool to be processed in Remesiana. Had Gorok's people been few enough in numbers to all ride in conjured carriages mayhap they might have passed you by without challenge. It doesn't do to be too curious in Queen Abrogail's realm, least one get in the way of noblemen or worse, but lizards riding horses of mist... well you wouldn't be too surprised if one of the nearby baronies, now that you are well clear of Longacre, will think to send knights to intercept and find out what in the hopefully-not-Hell is passing them by.

What you did not expect was the sight of riders behind you, a ragged bunch atop horses that for the most part seem more used to the plow than a rider. By Gorok's count they are about thirty strong, armed with spears and bows for the most part, though four of them bear a knight's armaments, poorly cared though they be, and these ones are also along atop proper warhorses, large and broad-chested.

The 'taken' had found you, riding on through the night when you had stopped to rest. Are those horses even flesh and blood to be able to keep up that pace? According to Gorok they're not, lest they be flesh of the north wind itself. Horses aren't made for keeping to gallop, he says as he turns at bay, ready to defend the convoy along with you and Mina and Cob while Sirim stays further back to defend Anippe.

Yet instead of the unceasing charge you had expected of the strange folk, the one in the lead calls out in a loud monotone: "Give us back what you have taken and we shall not follow you. Give us back our brother!"

"Do... do they mean the fellow in the bushes?" Mina asks, looking around for an answer none of you can give. Not lightly are you going to open your mind to whatever had changed so many minds in Longacre.

As though fate hadn't finished playing you a poor enough hand, Pepper chooses that moment to inform you that a galleon of the Chelish Navy is coming into view. All they'd see if you choose to fight would be strangers massacring the subjects of Her Infernal Majesty.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Encounter: 1d100: 2 (Taken and River Ship; too close to avoid)

"Could we show the danger to the ship?" Gorok asks Sirim.

"Getting the message across wouldn't be the problem, though as to whether they will believe us when we don't even know what's gotten into this mob..."

"Beside being able to keep up with conjured steeds over muddy ground," you note drily.

"Besides that, yes."

What do you do?

[] Go along with Gorok's plan (Sirim rolls diplomacy to persuade the Chelish ship that the villagers are not what they seem)

[] Sugest another course of action
-[] Drive off the taken villagers and then put a hole in the ship and be on your way, the last thing you need is the attention of the Infernal Throne
-[] Just hand over Trysus, it's not like you even know the man

[] Write in

OOC: I don't usually post encounter rolls, but this time it was so bad I had to include it.

 

[DragonParadox]

Beneath Eye of Steel ​

29th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

"Hail good man, what reason have you to come upon us in such haste?" you call out in a loud clear voice, surprising even yourself, knowing luck is against you yet as shadow follows substance another voice arises, weaving meaning from the silence between. "What need have you of a man who doesn't seek your company?"

"We're his kin," another who does bear some resemblance to Trysus, as father to son or uncle to nephew mayhap, speaks in the same strange monotone. "He's gone strange in the head, you see, 'cause all of the drink. If he just could talk to us sober he'd see sense and then we wouldn't have to chase you down no further."

"I don't think he's lying," you say turning your head towards Mina, who seems to find as little comfort in it as you do.

"There's more than one way to not lie," she says looking over the group of villagers. They had been soldiers once, the people of Longacre, and now again whatever had come over them seems to have lent them back the vigor of their youth even as it had leeched the color from their eyes and the depth from their scowls.

"Would that be Trysus changing his mind, or having his mind changed for him?" As you ask the question a memory of the temple of Abadar comes to you. They worship him even in this land. "Be it a contract you mean, or theft?"

The approaching villagers seem to flinch all at the same time, all in the same way, like the wind rippling through a field of wheat. "We would never take what is not given! True as the Merchant we are"

"I don't know that much about the Chelish but..." you trail off. "I don't think merchants have a reputation for being particularly honest. That's not a name for Abadar either."

"Not for Abadar, no." Mina looks down at the bag of holding that hangs from Warty's saddle. She motions for you to wait a moment then rummages around the contents for a uncomfortably long moment before she pulls out a very particular sword, one which you had taken from the Ogre champion.

"Swear on the sword you don't mean the man harm and if he doesn't seek your company you will let him be," she calls out, holding it aloft so that the winged eye upon the hilt shines clearly under the light of day, the mark of a dead god.

"Where... there did you obtain that?" Horses paw at the ground as though they had caught onto the nervousness of their riders or, you cannot help but think, of some greater thing that rides them all.

"Spoils from a dead ymris," Gorok uses the old iruxi word for giant, it's meaning something like titan-kin. More honor than that horror deserved living or dead if he'd asked you, but he had not and now the villagers ask questions after question, too many to answer and the first time more than one of them had spoken at once.

"He was a servant of the Hungry Moon reeving through the lands of Taldor," you explain, one eye on the river. Gods only know what the Chelish Navy will do if they catch such a strange company as yours, though at least if no blood is shed they might just decide it's someone else's problem.

"We will swear, if you swear not to speak of us to any living or dead beyond this place for a year and a day, and the same promise we will take from Trysus if he does not choose to stay with us," the seeming leader says at last.

Now it is about at this point that you have many questions of your own, though content to let them lie.

Cob however is less discrete: "What's all this 'bout a dead god? Why you care if he's dead?"

"As man dies so he shall arise," the one who looked like Trysus says, only to be silenced by glares from the others.

"I think they're being honest," Mina says, looking up at Sirim for confirmation which she receives, though it's clear the shade is almost as curious as Cob about goings on with the people of Longacre and their 'affinity' for one another.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Akorian Intimidation (Hidden Diplomacy): 1d20+23+6 = 40 (Success)
Mina Knowledge Religion (DC 20/25): 1d20+16 = 28 (Full Success)
Akorian Sense Motive (DC 28): 1d20+19 = 22, 22 (Failure)

What does Kori think?

[] It's worth a shot, bring Trysus over to talk to them

[] They are probably lying, give him a phantasmal steed and let him make his own way out of here

[] Write in

OOC: Enjoy.

 

[DragonParadox]

Weighing the Odds ​

29th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

And things had started out so well— you think, the edge of sarcasm almost sharp enough to cut even unseen. Sure you had brought the disheveled man out to talk to the others right enough. He'd even had a chance to ask about 'Sammy', the one who looked related to him. Alas, the moment he'd come within sixty feet of them Mina's voice rises in shock: "Stop! What are you doing?!"

You just barely have the chance to notice the telltale gleam of silver in her eyes that marks the second sight before the villagers start drawing weapons in eerie synchronicity.

"If you value your word or your god, be still!" you shout, pulling Trysus back with one hand and setting the other to your sword. "Else let steel be thine tongue and thine corpses witnesses!" Calculated venom drips from your lips. The way they had reacted to Mina's outburst brings to mind they might now fear an oath-breaker's brand more than death.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Akorian Intimidation (DC 30) 1d20+23 = 31 (Success)

"We mean to show him the truth!" 'Sammy' sounds frantic as he motions almost due west, almost overbalancing entirely if his horse hadn't corrected. "We can't say it with words or they'll hear!"

"They? Who's they?" Trysus asks, face twisting as fear battles longing upon it.

"They devils, the queen, the ones who took our future from US!" Even Cob flinches back at the sheer hate in that last word, not from fear maybe, but the sheer inhuman force of it. "Mankind's bright Destiny, Our Throne among the Stars, gone, all bound in devils chains they wear like jewelry! It is sickening! Don't you feel it, father? Don't you want to be part of something more, something that's not just their damned legions?"

"What did you see?" Gorok asks Mina.

"Magic like a cloud studded with stars, expanding from their mouths and eyes towards him. Maybe they were just trying to talk, but it couldn've been enchantment..."

It is at that point you do something which some might call rash, if not so much as half the fights you've gotten into. You take the arcane band off your head and in one swift motion 'crown' Trysus with it. "Will yourself to see their minds, so you shall know how true they are."

Mina looks at you impressed, most likely by your generosity. Probably best not to say you are considering how easy it would be to recover the true silver band from his corpse if mind-to-mind contact turned him hostile. Certainly better odds than contacting them mentally yourself.

Thus the erstwhile drunkard freezes in place again, but he doesn't start stabbing, gibbering, or kicking, so far an excellent success to an unwise plan hastened only by the presence of the Chelish ship. "Oh... oh... are you sure? Why'd you have to go and burn the...?" Unfortunately you do not hear the other side of the conversation, but whatever it is it seems to satisfy him. "Yeah, I see where you're coming from... better than how we were even if we're gonna be half... ah right, don't talk about that part."

Just as you breathe a sigh of relief, the day turns out to have one more surprise for you. Trysus turns to you and asks: "Say, you folks are from down below right? The Darklands?"

"Some," Gorok answers cautiously.

"Do you know a place we could go down into? We... er... us Longacre folk are going to need a place to hide soon." So saying he hands you back the true silver band.

"Kori, I think this is your call, you know the place best..." Mina doesn't say the whole thought, but it's easy enough to read the rest of it off her face. 'Do you want these people down in Cauldron's tunnels, spreading whatever they have?'

What do you answer?

[] No, you do not know a way

[] Yes you do
-[] Tell them the way
-[] Tell them the way only if they reveal their secret

[] Write in

OOC: Enjoy.

 

[DragonParadox]

Strange Blooms ​

29th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

Long and hard you think on the answer. True the world below is a dark one and most born to the sun might say that there is little harm to one more danger patrolling through the Long Walk, but you are not among them. You still remember Cauldron and the first place where strangers give you succor. "If you wish a passage then tell us to whom the passage is given!" The words are sharp and clear, not meant to sway with subtlety, but you extent a mental hand out to the riders.

"We are the chosen of the Living God! We are the Flower of his Memory!"

Flashes of color and sound beyond the ken of mortal senses assault your mind, blooming and withering too fast to be understood, too terrible and true to be ignored. A pillar covered in bubbling greenish-black mold, a predator lurking in the depths to feast on flesh still living, blind and deaf to their pain, hearing only the siren song of easy pray until.

Alien harmonies untwist into songs of devotion and desperation holding out against the thunder that shakes the very foundations of the earth. "Aroden... Seer... Aroden... Guardian... Aroden... Teacher!" The words mean nothing in the moment, but they slip though the crevices in your understanding.

One broken as he is sublime crashes into the roof of the temple above, one of the great solar angels of the Living God, for though many of his legion had dared the storm of their God's death one alone managed to reach Golarion in that hour, his wings broken and his throat slit by cackling devils, allowed to pass only for the horror it would inflict upon the faithful.

But the people above do not falter. Here is all places, they do not flee nor turn brother upon brother. They sit in in mournful vigil with the dying angel as his bright blood pours from his death wounds and passes though the stone where the mold does as instinct guides and drinks, awakening now to things beyond its narrow nature: from hunger reason, from cunning forethought, from domination duty.

You shudder back from the contact. The creature could not help but draw those who came upon it close, joining their minds to it, but this was no common mind-slaver mold, but a thing half celestial and mad perhaps with the purpose of a dead god. The same fateful moment more than a century ago that had seen the mold reborn had also collapsed the tunnels that lead into Nar Voth proper. It had been living on the ragged edge of survival and terror that it would be found by the servants of devils for almost as long until some manner of attack had spurred it to be bold, spreading like wildfire among the dissatisfied veterans of Longacre. With each mind it integrated came growing in purpose, a new town, but still it saught the comfort of the depths.

"What did you find?" Sirim asks, worry threading though the thought.

Upon explaining as best you can he only grows more fascinated at the potential source of knowledge not bound to the circles of the Outer Planes. But he surprises you just the same, instead of arguing to stay and learn more he simply motions back towards the convoy of iruxi. "We can find them again, Gorok's kin are waiting."

Alas that they are not the only ones waiting. Even as the Longacre folk ride back north, in the direction of the passage marked on their new map, a mustachioed man with boots almost as shinny as the bald dome of his head calls out a warning to the shore: "You there! What are you about?! Identify yourselves in the name of Her Infernal Majestrix!"

What do you do?

[] Try to warn them off by implying Asmodean Church Business (Opposed Knowledge Religion Check -5 for Improvisation)

[] Name some of the land's great nobles (Opposed Knowledge Nobility Check -5 for Improvisation)

[] Sirim tries to get back into his Umbral Court Persona (Intimidation, no malus, potential to spread news of Sirim to ears you would rather it not reach)

[] Write in

OOC: So yeah, turns out it is an infectious mind controlling fungus, only this one found God, making it more symbiotic and approachable (?). Too bad for it the god it serves is dead so now its hivemind is an Arodenite mind-meld fungus cult.

 

[DragonParadox]

Slipping the Net ​

29th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

You turn with some confidence towards the advancing ship, letting magic carry your words to them as it lends weight to your words: "We are escorting a batch of exotic slaves to Remesiana, where they will then be shipped to their buyer in far-off Katapesh. It would be best for all of us, captain, if you do not ask more than that..."

"What? Do you think we're fools?!" the man shouts back. "Slaves without manacles on wrist or ankle, slaves that could tear a man in armor apart with their claws?"

"There are more ways that lash and common steel to drive slaves into the arms of their masters. Why do you think we do not take the road for every gossip from here to Harford-on-Water to speak of our comings and goings? The beasts are to be delivered intact and as in a state of savagery, complete with their cultural artifacts. What easier way to do so than to have them carry it all themselves on their backs? What better way than to have them think they are free?" The words come with uncanny smoothness, as though you are one of those players on stage in Almas and the Chelish captain aboard his river ship no more than the man before you reading off the same script. "Oh don't worry, the beasts don't speak Common."

"What... but I have a letter here, delivered under Imperial seal...? Stop and search?" If you are sure of nothing else it's that he doesn't deliver those words with the rising intonation of a question normally.

"Ah... well, aren't we all just lead along. An Imperial seal you say, may she reign a thousand years." You allow none of your emotions to show, not the brief flash of queasiness for how easy it was to re-imagine yourself as a slaver and not the sudden calculation as you consider how easy the ship would be to burn. "From the post riders?"

"No, it was a bumpkin cunning man with dirt between his toes, a bit too fond of bats if you take my meaning, yer lordship," he laughs nervously. "Described a party like yours, said to take you in for questioning for smuggling. You wouldn't happen to have any documents I can see, would you?"

By the time he had gotten to the end of his sentence the ship had come close enough that the arcane amplification made the whining in his words even more grating to the ear that it would normally be.

"'Bumpkin cunning man', I think he means the vampire, and he tried to set us up for smuggling," Mina says in the tongue of the People, ironically twisting the previous lie about the iruxi into truth with regards to the Chelish themselves.

"How would a Gebbite vampire have access a document bound with the Chelish Imperial seal?" you wonder, though not aloud.

Sirim, in whose direction the thought had been proffered, muses in return that he would be able to tell if the seal is genuine and maybe something of who it might have come from if he can get his metaphorical hands on it, though he is less sanguine at the prospect of coming up with the documentation the captain had asked for, certainly not in the next few dozen beats.

"Captain, my documentation is a scroll of summoning. I have been assured that the one on the other side will handle all the legal concerns. Ask again, summoned they shall be." The trick of getting someone to choose between the chasm and the worm in this instance is to sound not threatening, but troubled for his safety. Seeing as you were just playing the part of a ruthless slaver one can imagine the rocks turning over in his stomach.

"No... I think that's quite alright. Be sure to speak to the High Justicar of the Sailors' Keep in Remesiana."

"I could go steal parchment, figure out who's after Anippe and how they are friends with devil-queen," Cob offers quietly a moment later.

Gorok won't hear of it though, too risky for too little potential reward, not when you are two days from the sea. That night the shadows lie uneasy over the camp as you consider the watch schedule against the vampire you know is out there.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Akrorian Bluff (DC 60*): 1d20+23+6+20 = 56, 67 (Success)
Mina Knowledge (Religion) (DC 20): 1d20+16 = 36 (Critical Success)
*He has an imperial order in hand from someone who told him to arrest people of your description for smuggling

[] Write in who takes the three watches during the night
(Any character who takes more than one watch will not be considered rested for the purposes of spells and abilities.)

OOC: Turns out the threat of unleashing some kind of lawyer devil on the average Chelish officer is enough to get them to back up even when they know they have official cover.

 

[DragonParadox]

Snatched in the Night ​

30th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

After the Chelish ship had continued along its course, no doubt to the misfortune of the captain once it becomes known how he had been fooled, for the Infernal Empire does not abide fools, you continue on until the daylight leeches from a sky left mostly starless in the gloom of the year's passing. Still, there is plenty of light for you to see by and your companions likewise, all on guard against a shadow slipping behind you, cold fingers reaching for the throat. So all of you are standing with your backs to something solid, which around here mostly means trees, though Mina had managed to find a piece of rough moss covered granite rising from the bank like the fallen tooth of some primordial river god and Cob had choose to stay in a tree to cast his sharp eyes farther.

For her part Anippe is a little too excited to be up this late with a monster abroad, but one can hope nothing will show itself to dissuade her of the naivete of youth as she chats quietly with Srim about the arcane significance of shadows and if something can be a perfect reflection of imperfect material reality. Maybe the vampire won't show itself, it's shown itself cautious so far, you allow yourself a note of rising hope as the hours wear on.

Alas, the enemy has another prize in mind. The alarm goes up among among the iruxi first, a flurry of sibilant calls frantically seeking an answer, then one of them jumps from his self-appointed post and Cob almost falls from his perch.

Three of the hatchings are gone and in their place a note in the script of Nidal, though lacking the flourishes and barbs so common to the Umbral Court. 'Blunt as a pick to the skull,' Sirim calls it as he begins to read out for the rest of you and for the iruxi gathered close to hear:

Heretic,
I have taken the little beasts away to the North, there you will find a glade once belonging to the druids of the Whisperwood before the Chelish Inquisition dealt with them. Know that it has been rededicated to our Lord in Endless Agony. Unless you wish the savages to be serenaded by the screams of their get all throughout the flight you will face me there alone to meet your fate.

Cicat of Brimstone Springs​

Never since you have known him have you felt his voice so cold in your mind. "It would seem the blood-drinker was after me after all. Though why he would seek to take iruxi youths to force my hand I do not know..."

Because it saw how you acted around Anippe, you bite your tongue against saying. It's easy to imagine one raised on the same poison as Sirim had been simply judging that the shade had 'gone soft for children,' not bothering to distinguish between the young mageling he had taken under his wing and the young iruxi who were Gorok's charge. After all, it would be so much easier to kidnap them then the girl whom you had kept so close, thinking her his quarry.

"He is proposing a duel, though contempt drips from the page," the shade continues. "Alas for ambitious 'Cicat,' he could not make the offer formal as that would imply I am still worthy of the honor, heretic that I am. I wonder what forced his hand? First he risks revealing my past and the shame it brings to petty Chelish officers where it might become common gossip, then he kidnaps the iruxi... it almost reeks of desperation. I wonder how many favors he had to promise already to follow us this far?"

"It doesn't matter, we are going after then," Mina says, but then to her surprise Gorok interjects.

"It does matter, why?"

"Either his patron is growing impatient or... The blood. Cob, you said he injured you back in Augustana?"

Your small friend nods, ears still dropping, teeth set in a sharp-toothed grimace that no one could mistake for his usual smile.

"He must have taken your blood before destroying his own, but it will run out eventually. The more times we break the trail the harder we are to follow, and now we head out onto the water. This thrall might know we are heading to Cassomir, he might not."

Sirim Knowledge Arcana (DC 22): 1d20+15 = 24 (Success)

That gives you an idea...

[] Sirim should go alone while the rest of you teleport in once he reaches his destination

[] So this blood-drinker can hide, can he see as well? Sirim can feign going alone while the rest of you hide and follow

[] Write in

OOC: Perception vs Stealth rolls hidden again since since that's an unknown unknown.

 

[DragonParadox]

When Stone Bleeds Black ​

30th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

High above the moon, pregnant with ancient secrets as he had found it, hid among the branches of oak and ask and black larch and all was draped in a soft haze. 'Blue as the lips of the Midnight Lord', the priests would say, but it was just the nearness of the ethereal, Sirim told himself glad that he had not the flesh to tremble from lingering child's fears. Like smoke without flame he passed not moving a leaf yet the woods still whispered in their secret tongue, moved by wind and small scurrying things whose small bright eyes he could feel on him and hate against all reason that they saw his weakness even if they had no tongue to speak it with. Every creak, every shift, every movement spied out of the corner of his eye could be the assassin and no eyes to see it but his own.

Spoiler: Whisperwood

Yet nothing came of it, ahead the circle of tumbled stones lay in in willful ruin, like the hurled toys of a spiteful titan, but they were not abandoned. Atop each one a skull burned with witchlight, the blue was stronger here. Are they...? He measured the skull with eyes that had seen more practice in such things than most. Too large, too round, not the missing hatchlings. Relief was as sweet as it was short-lived.

"So you have come, though you knew the danger..." cruel humor lurked under the surface of the voice like a predator at the edge of the firelight, holding back only in anticipation. "Tell me, heretic, did you not wonder why I told you this place had been taken by the Midnight Lord?"

"I had assumed gross incompetence," Sirim answered as he cast his gaze among the stones seeking his foe. "In my defense, an inflated sense of your own importance would have been my second guess."

Laughter fell like shards of ice among the shadowed circle. "You have ignored the warning and thus in your ignorance even you, heretic, have embraced pain." In Nidalese the word was an old one, its meaning could shift between pain, catharsis and enlightenment, but all Sirim heard in that moment was 'pain' set to the clink of a torturer's chains.

Alas that he wasn't the only one listening.

The stones ruptured, bleeding gouts of black sand that flowed and merged like shadows before they swirled upwards humanoid figure, its face set with grand and unmoving displeasure, cruelty wholly impersonal. Zon-Kuthon was not angry at Sirim's defiance, that expression told Sirim, the grim god did not even know his name nor would be pay any more mind to his broken screams those of any other supplicant or sacrifice.

Spoiler: Sand Golem

Sirim Knowledge (Arcane) (DC 24): 1d20+15 = 24 (Success)

"Is that all your god can conjure on his chosen ground?" Sirim cut back with words against the foe he still could not see. "Sand and magic that any sufficiently wizard of middling craft can animate?"

"No, heretic, it's all you're worth." A star of steel came flying from among the trees, tearing at Sirim's substance. Now at last he caught sight of the assassin's red eyes narrowed into slits upon his chalky white face.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Assassin Attack: 1d20+16 = 27 (Hit)
Sirim Takes 15 Damage -> Now at 30/45

"I will enjoy wearing your flesh!" Sirim spat as the crack of displaced air filled the clearing and his companions were again all around him.

What do you do?

Tactical information:

• Everyone but Mina gets a turn this round since she was the one to cast the Teleport.
• The Assassin has already moved and the golem goes last.
• The Golem is 30 feet from your current position in the middle of the stone circle.
• The Assassin is 40 feet from your current position, situated in one of the low trees at the edge.

[] Write in plan

OOC: Ah, Sirim finally gets to say a villain line. True it's to a murderous vampire, but it's the thought that counts.

 

[DragonParadox]

Slayer's Gambit​

30th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

Gorok's claws tear through thick the rotted loam and the bark of the tree as he climbs, weapon turning silver in his hand under Sirim's ministrations, but Cob is swifter still, appearing behind the assassin. Bright is the knife in his hand and cold as ice, but for the first time in a long time it seems that Cob has met his match for even menaced by the fey blade and claw he manages to step gracefully aside, allowing Cob to almost stumble off the branch. But your friend's a willy one, he swings one handed off Gorok's scaled arm and launches himself straight at the monsters glowing red eyes, wide with shock and pierces only smoke. "What the... d'I git 'em?"

The answer is cold and mocking laughter still falling though the branches. "He who rights shadows shall cut only himself."

"Simulacrum," Sirim spits, for all his voice still can't rise above a horse whisper. "How much did that puppet cost to serve as a scarecrow in a field with locusts?"

Of more import to you is the shout from Cob: "Oi, git's up there!" Only now do you see the slight incongruity of the assassin flush against the trunk of the tree above where he had positioned his false self, his dead flesh as cold as the night air in your sight.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Combat Rolls

Sirim Knowledge (Arcane) (DC 22): 1d20+15 = 29 (Success)
Simulacrum Takes 65 Damage -> Destroyed
Cob Perception (DC 25): 1d20+19 = 26 (Success)

Chains fly to your call, coiling links of shadow forged as steel that drag him off balance and send him crashing backwards to the forest floor. Too much to hope the earth will hurt one of the risen dead, but still his curses are as music in your ears matched only by the sound of Warty's wrathful wrarble as he launches himself at living idol of Zon-Kuthon. Alas, he only gets a mouthful of sand and the creature seems wholly blind to it, face flowing into serene smile, ruined by the marks of torture that mark its face up close as it walks towards you.

The friction of sand particles births an inhuman voice: "Betrayer of kin, you spit upon the struggle."

It seems to fall upon you with the weight of a mountain hurtling down and so it might be, but mountains know not where they fall. It stumbles, clawing great clods from the tainted earth as Pepper's magic takes hold, unable to make good its threat as a dozen or so feet above a winged cat finds its perch, a sheen of starlight on his coat.

Pepper is definitely a lot bigger than the last time you saw him, and something tells you more dangerous beside.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Combat Rolls


Golem Reflex Save (DC 16): 1d20+6 = 13 (Failure)

"They are not yours!" the idol proclaims, an edge of cold spite now in its words as it had not been when it accused you. "Flee, little spark, lest ye be swallowed by the Yawning Dark!"

"Hmm?" The feline meets its burning gaze with one as silver mirrors. "I certainly am yawning, I will give you that." He demonstrates the point.

Bravado aside, though the battle's far from over neither you nor he foe bear any marks from the opening clash and response as Mina gathers her power to strike.

[] Write in battle plan.

OOC: The assassin showing his prep here, but that golem getting tripped up by a cat messed up what would have been a devastating attack on Kori.

 

[DragonParadox]

Shedding Dead Blood ​

30th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

The assassin bounds upwards, lighter than flesh and blood should ever be, to stand gracefully under the tree, a smile on his lips, a star-shaped knife between his pale fingers for an instant before he hurls it upward, cutting through Cob's cheek and near to taking out his eye before striking Gorok's armored back.

What the...?

In a single graceful arc the the knife returns to his hand like a sated hunting lizard even as Cob flashes behind him. Dead lips form something that might be called a smile of grudging admiration even as he nimbly dances through his blows. Where other foes had underestimated the goblin for his stature and thought first to guard their knees, Cicat knows to guard his eyes and face against a blow that would match the one he dealt.

But Cob was not the only foe he had to face.

"Nest raider!" Gorok shouts in Taldan so that the foe will know what anger drove the sword that skewered his chest once, twice, thrice, piercing silver-true through his dead heart.

Yet there he still stands, wounds bleeding sluggishly onto the earth which he had given to his god, until a bolt of golden fire strikes him from Mina's hand into the bleeding wound on his chest. He melts to swirling mist, sinking into the earth like maggots even as you send another chain to drag the black sand idol he had made back down.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Assassin Acrobatics: 1d20+17 = 36 (Success)
Assassin Startoss Shower vs Cob, Gorok: 37 (35!), 21 (Crit, Miss)
Cob Takes 27 Damage -> Now at 48/75
Cob Attack: 24, 22, 20 (Miss, Miss, Miss)
Gorok Attacks: 31, 36 (34!), 29, 18 (Hit, Crit, Hit, Miss)
Assassin loses 7 Temporary HP and Takes 70 Damage -> Now at 8/77
Mina Ranged Touch Attack: 24 (Hit)
Assassin takes 35 Damage -> Reduced to 0 HP
Akorian Chain: 37 (Trip)

If it cannot rise the idol crawls forth, face set in a mask of joyous hatred at the debasement heaped upon it as it screams out a wave of boiling sand.

Head tucked inside your arm you jump out of the way, feeling the sand burn through your armor. As you turn your head you're glad Mina also managed it. "Not as bad as the dragon!" you shout.

"We never fought the dragon!" she calls back as Warty finally gets a grip on how to pummel the black sand thing. It's slow going, but it is going and you have no doubt that with some help from Cob and Gorok he can wear it down, but it's just a tool while the assassin is escaping through the earth.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Reflex Saves Akorian, Mina: 20, 19 (Success, Success)
Akorian and Mina take 6 Damage
Warty Attack: 26, 29, 31, 30 (Hit, Hit, Hit, Hit)
Golem takes 22 Damage -> Now at 74/96

"The vampire! Kill it!" you call out to Sirim, Cob, anyone with a plan and a weapon.

"He cannot be slain until he returns to solid form in his coffin," Sirim reminds you.

Right... some part of you knew that, an old hate bubbling to the surface, mixing with new urgency.

What do you do?

[] Try to mark the vampire somehow before it fleet

[] Just finish off the idol

[] Write in

OOC: Cicat the assassin had less luck this time around, but he's smart enough to know soil is porous and none of you have the means to track him through it normally. So if you have any clever plans now would be the time, otherwise he is going to show up for round three with even more lessons learned.

 

[DragonParadox]

From Black Sand Forged​

30th of Kuthona 4707 A.R. (Absalom Reckoning)

Left handed your reach out and cast a spell you do not know the name of for all you see it in your mind's eye; a priest in green and blue lay down the foundations of a village that will become a town that will become a city that will be... Earth compresses into a form like stone and traps the vampire, though not for long. "Gorok..."

Your friend needs no encouragement. His weapon is not made for the task so he rushes into the fight and starts pummeling the idol with the hilt of the rapier, smashing it elbows and knees. Slowly, like a wall-slip in a muddy cave, it begins to cave in on itself, whatever power keeping it animate struggling against the blows.

As for Cob, you don't so much see him on the other side of the mass of black sand as hear him cursing the 'stupid dirt thing with no blood that won't stay proper stabbed.' Pepper only seems to grow brighter and larger overhead as he spins sphere as much light as snow at the failing idol, but still it won't fall, towering above you like a crumbling wall ready to bury you in its ruin.

Then its head explodes. A diminutive shadow, draconic in form, flicks its tail in contempt in its direction as it surveys its work before spiraling upward to keep an eye on more danger again.

Spoiler: Mechanics

Gorok Attacks: 28, 32, 26, 23 (Hit, Hit, Hit, Hit)
Sand Golem Takes 45 Damage -> Now at 29/96*
Cob: Attacks: 30, 39, 28 (Hit, Hit, Hit)
Sand Golem Takes 19 Damage -> Now at 10/96*
Pepper does 9 Damage -> Sand Golem now at 1/96
Golem Fortitude Save: 1d20+4 = 23 (Success)
Sand Golem Reflex Save: 1d20+6 = 14 (Success)
Sand Golem Takes 14 Damage -> Destroyed
*Immune to Precision Damage (Crits and Sneak Attack) due to Amorphous

Mina starts to giggle in sheer relief as she dusts herself off from the wave of sand which had rolled over the both of you. "I withdraw any and all reservations as to your presence good... Avarice. He could've given you a better name though."

"Why?" A voice like Sirim's yet not rings in your mind. "It is as I am, and I know no shame in being. If you still feel a need to make amends, collect some of the glass from the remains so that I may claim it for my hoard. A good start."

"Where is the dead one?" Gorok cuts through the chatter. When you point to the patch of soil at the edge of the circle he seems satisfied, though quickly grows less so when you explain the spell won't hold him long and you will have to follow him to his resting place to put him to true death. "The hatchlings, can you question him?"

Sirim cocks his head, as much as an ophidian form may. "He will not speak to me, heretic that I am. He thinks he will be safe once he has fled, perhaps."

"I can follow him," you explain with confidence.

Between your own calculations for how fast the mist can move and Mina's knowledge of those who hunt in the night you work out that the the coffin can't be much farther than a mile from here if he's to be able to get there in time. Yet all the while Gorok seems torn and it's no great leap to figure out why, on the one hand he feels he has to search for the hatchlings, on the other that he should lead you in battle again and lend his sword to the task.

What do you do?

[] Assure Gorok that you can deal with whatever the vampire has prepared to defend his resting place...
-[]... Alone
-[]... With only some of the company (write in who)

[] Someone else can stay and loot
-[] Write in who

[] Say nothing, you should stay together

OOC: I did try to hold off Cob since he could not use his sneak attack on the golem, but there was just no way to get it down in a single round without him and that thing hits like a truck. Hope the tactics make sense.