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RoE Archive => Legends of the Hero-Kings => RoE2 Archives => Grey they Named Him, but Black was His Blood => : X-Elinie/RiD (Niels) March 10, 2009, 01:06:53 PM
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The Vampires of Ansien
Participants (so far):
Patriarch Daouta of Elinie
High Hierophant Haensen of LPA
Guildmaster Lamier of PETG
Maester Kaleiman, Court Mage of Elinie, Member and Councilman of the Conclave
Robhan Khaiarén, High Marshal of Haelyn's Aegis.
Droene Kavarra, Mhor of Mhoried. - Sent Bjorn the Fellhanded.
Invited, but not confirmed:
Willam Deaulen, Baron of Coeranys.
Link to MIRROR thread: http://roe.twilightpeaks.net/forum/index.php?topic=434.0 (http://roe.twilightpeaks.net/forum/index.php?topic=434.0)
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Maester Kaleiman has also promised to go
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The Patriarch was reading the latest reports, the news from Points East was most informative, and would serve as the base for the coming investigation.
The other lords and ladies would arrive momentarily, and they would join him here in the court room for last minute preparations and planning.
Hopefully, the High Hierophant would have been able to detect weakenings in the Veil and thus lead their party to the vampires hideout.
The Armsmen were prepared to deploy a perimeter and Scouts were traversing the province looking for armed bands that might be allies of the vampires. There was no telling what the scale of the enemies operations were, and the Patriarch was not one to leave much to chance.
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High Hierophant Medlorhie Haesen
Hierophant Gaerred Khaiarén
Sudawharwi, Naire Dhon
A small contingent of warrior-monks (10)
Arrive from the Life and Protection of Avanlae, arrayed in full battle-gear. The High Hierophant seems...different. The others in her contingent seem to get her a wide-breadth and while it is expected that she would be treated with great honor, they seem to be going far beyond normal means.
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OOC: I have no intention of pursuing this adventure right now; I am busy both IC and OOC so it will have to wait until after Tromsø. Anyway its taking place AFTER the S&C so that fits nicely.
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Thats good! - Was kinda pressed getting all the pieces... err... people, into place.
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Vampires? In Ansien? :o
Wow, practically right next door to me, and I did not have a clue! :-[
...er, I guess technically speaking I still do not have a clue. :-X
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Bjorn the Fell-handed
10 Guardians of Mhoried.
They arrive shortly after LPA. Bjorn nods to everyone already in the court room.
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The Patriarch indicates that the heroes should join him at the table.
"We are missing only the contingent from the Points East, we should begin discussing our plan of action.
I have researched into what we call the "Curse of Manethander". It is clear to me, that we cannot hope to defeat this foe head-on.
Our task here in Ansien is thus to locate and destroy or drive out any of the undead vampiric spawn.
As we do so, we may uncover more information on how to defeat or re-seal the evil's source.
High Hierophant, you seem... prepared. Have you news on the veil and its fluctuations? - Do we have a target?"
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They come for you during the night...your dreams are troubled and your sleep restless, yet you cannot shake yourselves awake. You hear them at the windows, you hear them at the door, you hear them under the bed - like the monsters of childhood scares.
They come for you during the night...and you know fear, like none you have before. Even the blood of blessed Anduiras or the courage of the Gods' chosen bring any comfort, for in sleep all men are equal; scion or commoner, paladin or heretic.
They come for you during the night...drawn to you by the warmth of you heart's blood. A warmth they so long for, but that they cannot have...for they can no longer bear the light of holy Avanalae, and must make do with the life-warmth of living man.
They come of you during the night...the dark beast made flesh, the evil that hides in all men's heart taken shape...
They come for you during the night...
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Every man gathered for this great task suffers from horrible nightmares; but wakes to find the monsters gone at first light. It was but a bad dream! But wait, what is this black rose that lies upon my pillow - it was not there yesterday!
The fear comes rushing back - what madness is this? You call upon your servants, but they are not there! Every servant and companion brought to this gathereing - lifelessly, bloodlessly sitting around the fire-place...
Then you wake up again...it is dawn, yes, but a black sun shines down upon you.
Welcome to your nightmare.
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OOC: The adventure has begun; you may assume that your first meeting went well, and that this took place during your first night all present in Ansien.
As you 'awake' you are each in a great bedroom in a vast old mansion...it is day outside, but no light comes from the sun - for it is dark as jet. Whatever light there is comes from a pale moon also handing in the sky.
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Robhan rises and swiftly dons his silvered armour - "the Shadow World" he whispers shocked - "the veil grows thin indeed to reach out so". Pulling out his sword and willing it to shine he calls out "awaken champions of the light, you sleep in shadowed halls and 'tis for us to drive back the darkness!"
Trusting that his bellow and glowing blade have told all of his presence Robhan strides out to the open to see if any others have crossed through the darkened door and stand within the desolate lands of the dead... If not then his call would have done nothing but announce his presence to the wights and demons of dark dreams, all to the good, his blade would sing a song of courage and dreams would be the easier for innocents henceforth...
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IC:
Elamien rises, dresses, and quietly slips out of her room, into the hall, beyond the portal. She wears a rapier at her side and proceeds with caution, heading toward that, which she believes to be the centre of the great house. She is alone, as alone she arrived. . . .
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You both arrive in the same great sitting room, dominated by several couches surrounding a great fireplace. Several more doors open into sleeping chambers (the other PCs), while a great double door leading into a hall.
You both see a smallish goblin rushing out of the room and into the darkened hal.
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"well, at least they do not appear entirely ready for us, we may yet gather before they can pounce" muttered Robhan, throwing a knife at the goblin almost absently, "we should check the others lest assassins creep about..."
OOC: I presume that we have equipment? Somehow underwear and pillows don't sound like they will be enough...
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IC:
Elamien sits on a couch, ignoring the goblin and waiting for the others to appear. She does, however, peer into the hall, as she reclines ever so slightly. . . .
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OOC: Damn, I had no intention of Gaerred Khaiarén and Naire Dhone coming.
Medlorhie seems strangely calm and at peace as she enters the room seemingly well rested. She sits next to Robhan and listening to his words, she smiles at him.
She reaches her figure out to touch his holy symbol, and to engulf the room in Avani's light.
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You have some basic equipment; clothes and such. Indeed, you garments are of excellent fabric and cut, beyond even what you can afford in the Daylight World. You also have your magic equipment and any iconic non-magical items your character has.
Beyond that, nothing. No food, water or misc supplies.
Only the regent of each domain - or a single AA if not regent present - is in the SW manor.
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IC:
After a short while, Elamien rises from her seat and approaches the double doors. As she stands near the opening, she pushes the door, through which the goblin ran, rather cautiously forward, to reveal a little more of the hall. . . .
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The goblin - or rather one of the High Marshal's attendants is lying face-down in a growing pool of blood, a knife sticking out of his back.
The hall is silent and dark, stretching away beyond the limit of your vision. Numerous doors line the hall, while ancient bronze plate-armor stands silent vigil next to each door.
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The Patriarch, awakens to find that his clothes are dark and a Khinasi assassin's mask lies with them. He dons the clothes, puts the mask in his belt and slings the Sun Sword across his back, before he quietly exits the room...
He finds the others in the great hall and takes stock, it appears everyone is yet alive. Noticing Elamien is at the doors leading deeper, he goes to her side and draws the Sun Sword, letting its light spread down the hallway.
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"The servant, the first I have seen in this place... and he bleeds."
Rashid moves to the servant, takes hold of the knife and draws it out. Rising, he looks over his shoulder and sees Robhan, noticing his missing dagger and shocked face.
"Your blade, your servant. A dark place indeed..."
He walks back and gives the blade to Robhan, then he moves back towards the corridor. "Let us find out what the rules of this place is, slay nothing that is not an immediate threat... I want not to find that we are but blinded and striking our own people."
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IC:
At the entrance to the hall, Elamien turns to the Patriarch and says softly, "You take the lead, Rashid. I am certainly not comfortable doing so, myself." And she waits for him to move forward, before following a short distance behind. . . .
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Catching and holding Elamien's eyes, Rashid then nods and moves down the corridor, letting the others follow closely.
He stops before the first door to his right and says;
"Let us see what lies behind these doors... Remember, the vampires touch is deadly and they might sway our minds to fight one another. I trust the High Marshal and the High Hierophant have blessings that will protect us against this evil.
Maester Kaleiman, prepare your worst... Your fires may be our strongest weapon next to Faith."
He then opens the door, Sun Sword held at a guard...
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Medlorhie kneels next to the attendant.
"Maester Kalieman," she confers with him for a moment.
"Are we awake? Such as this I have never heard -- not even from the Eyeless One, whose trepidations were numerous," she says.
"Is this real, half-real, or an illusion?" She says. "These are the questions we should ask when the Shadow is involved -- otherwise the overzealous may harm many in their travails," She nods once to him.
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Bjorn seems distracted, the other Guardians following his lead still trying to shake off their fear. This place seems otherworldly, haunted.
The stout Mhorean approaches the Patriarch Rashid, and mutters in a low voice:
"What machinations of evil are these?"
He holds his claymore in his hands, and nods the Guardians to come forward, following the Patriarch's lead.
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Robhan frowns at the 'goblin' bleeding on the floor - Geran lad, is that you? he whispers. [If the page is still alive (or at least above -10hp), Robhan bandages his wounds and casts a minor curative spell apologising profusely...].
"Wise words Patriarch - but I fear that deadly foes will appear swiftly enough, and granting them first strike might be granting them last also. I shall endeavour to use my voice before any blade in future - had the goblin not fled I would have done so but I feared it sought to bring some fell master."
Robhan frowns, "so much for preparations, I had holy water and oil both and much more besides. At least my armour is here - or at least, its semblance - I wonder if our garments are merely what we have dreamed into being that is here - I put much thought into how to chase functional armour with silver in order to face vampires and argued long and hard with the armourer over his labours, but merely requisitioned all else that I brought beyond my personal effects - the rest meant nothing to me beyond providing function."
[Carrying the bandaged page to a bed to recover / covering him decently with a sheet as appropriate] Robhan looks at the others.
"However we are here, indeed whether we are truly here or not - there is little to be gained by standing about. I suggest we explore, and look for structures that should not be about - for sure enough should something be grossly out of place - beyond the expected madness - then it may be key to revealing the truth behind the facade in which we walk."
With no further word Robhan follows the Patriarch down the corridor and readies his blade as the Patriarch prepares to open the door.
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Medlorhie kneels next to the attendant.
"Maester Kalieman," she confers with him for a moment.
"Are we awake? Such as this I have never heard -- not even from the Eyeless One, whose trepidations were numerous," she says.
"Is this real, half-real, or an illusion?" She says. "These are the questions we should ask when the Shadow is involved -- otherwise the overzealous may harm many in their travails," She nods once to him.
"We are presently in the Shadow World High Hierophant, which I am sure you have all gathered. While I am not the greatest expert of this shadowy realm, I know that this place, consists of various 'domains'. For instance, in places where the fey folk are still strong and numerous, the powers of the faerie will be strong - powerful illusions and enchantments they can easily wield within their own domain. The same it is with the lands most tainted by the Shadow; here no light will brightly shine, the minds and bodies of living men will weaken, food and water go stale and rotten.
This place here, however, I believe is strongly influenced by the Dream. Even more so that the 'average' region of the Shadow World this place is illusory and malleable - by whomever has the power and skill to exert his will upon it.
I short my companions, we ARE, quite literally, caught in a dream. And a bad one at that, and one we have little power over."
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Bjorn seems distracted, the other Guardians following his lead still trying to shake off their fear. This place seems otherworldly, haunted.
The stout Mhorean approaches the Patriarch Rashid, and mutters in a low voice:
"What machinations of evil are these?"
He holds his claymore in his hands, and nods the Guardians to come forward, following the Patriarch's lead.
NOTE: There is but one member of each domain here; as stated before. No followers.
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Robhan frowns at the 'goblin' bleeding on the floor - Geran lad, is that you? he whispers. [If the page is still alive (or at least above -10hp), Robhan bandages his wounds and casts a minor curative spell apologising profusely...].
"Wise words Patriarch - but I fear that deadly foes will appear swiftly enough, and granting them first strike might be granting them last also. I shall endeavour to use my voice before any blade in future - had the goblin not fled I would have done so but I feared it sought to bring some fell master."
Robhan frowns, "so much for preparations, I had holy water and oil both and much more besides. At least my armour is here - or at least, its semblance - I wonder if our garments are merely what we have dreamed into being that is here - I put much thought into how to chase functional armour with silver in order to face vampires and argued long and hard with the armourer over his labours, but merely requisitioned all else that I brought beyond my personal effects - the rest meant nothing to me beyond providing function."
[Carrying the bandaged page to a bed to recover / covering him decently with a sheet as appropriate] Robhan looks at the others.
"However we are here, indeed whether we are truly here or not - there is little to be gained by standing about. I suggest we explore, and look for structures that should not be about - for sure enough should something be grossly out of place - beyond the expected madness - then it may be key to revealing the truth behind the facade in which we walk."
With no further word Robhan follows the Patriarch down the corridor and readies his blade as the Patriarch prepares to open the door.
It's Geran all right; you stabilize him and put him in a bed. He's not going to be much use now. But he'll live unless he gets bitten by someone...
The corridor leads nowhere...its seemingly endless; and the doors are locked. They CAN be picked and forced, but after a few tries you come to the conclusion that they all lead to identical empty rooms (empty save some furnishing of course).
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IC:
States Elamien, "This is futile."
She walks back to the sitting room and approaches the fireplace; then examines the mantel for any peculiarities. . . .
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Upon returning to the sitting room you find that it is no longer empty; indeed, a small part is underway. What looks like seven young nobles - three female and four male - are waited upon by a score or so manservants who are handing out food and drink and such.
The nobles are all dressed in the scandalous fieriness of a forgotten day and age; around the end of the Empire you would imagine. They are uncommonly handsome or pretty, as their gender allows. They are currently all looking at young Geran - who is apparently feeling much better now - as he entertains them with some witty story.
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IC:
Viewing this scene, Elamien stops. After a few moments, she looks back at her companions and silently waves them toward her. . . .
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Robhan frowns, what did he really see, social butterflies/predators - or real predators swathed in illusion? To examine them closely might reveal their nature, or lead one to embrace it and make it real...
"Greetings gentle folk" he began, keeping wary distance from them as he drifted towards Elamien, "may I ask who you are and how you came to this place?"
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Stepping up to the High Hierophant, Rashid speaks in a low voice, his eyes on the party going on in the room ahead; "I believe now would be a good time to protect our minds from evil. While we are still in the corridor."
He makes a gesture toward the High Marshal, but as he has spoken already to the apparitions, Rashid does not attempt to stop him but merely stands ready to spring into action.
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Medlorhie listens closely to Kalieman.
"Then it is prudent that we determine whose dream this is" She says.
"Patriarch, perhaps we should determine if they are friend or foe, though, Patriarch, perhaps you should see if they are Shadowspawn." she says.
Medlorhie begins to carefully examine the room, objects within the room, and whatever else she can find that is distinctive.
Medlorhie is using Knowledge skills to determine, the time period, location and anything else she can, about this dream.
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The seven are, without a doubt, Vampires. Even in this place there can be no doubt about that. And seven vampires...that is perhaps more than you can hope to handle?
As for the servants and such; they appear normal men. But who can tell in this place? Robhan's servants appeared a goblin for a while, might these servants equally be under the manor's spell?
Geran, however, is plain enough to see. He sits silently - and rigidly - in his seat, surrounded by vampires. It is not difficult to see that he has been drained of all blood.
One of the vampires, a young Khinasi woman with a scandalous neckline, speak to you.
"Come, come. The servants have prepared a feast for you. You must be famished!"
She gestures back towards the corridor; which is no longer a corridor, but banquet hall.
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She looks to the group. "Put your swords away."
With a practiced smile, pleasant demeanor and flourished bow, Medlorhie speaks to the Khinasi woman in Basarji.
"May the Graces of the Lady, and that of the Holy Triumvirate be upon, and may they grant you prosperity for many ages."
It is highly ritualistic for each gesture is placed in such a way as to convey both thanks, submission, and respect.
Medlorhie gestures to the others, she sits next to Kaleiman, and speaks very softly to him.
"Maester, a 'dream' is but the medium of the mind for stories, and the mind is the mightiest of storytellers. And what good story fails to draw its viewer in? Such, is it so with this place, I bet. Where the Veil is weak it crosses into Elinie, moreover, it draws its creatures in. Tell me, is our 'dreamer' likely in a state of torpor?"
She waits for the answer, before speaking again to the Khinasi lady.
"Most Honored Host, shall the Lord of the manor be joining us? We would dearly like to gratitude in person."
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Patriarch Rashid follows Medhlorie's lead, but eats or drinks nothing. Indeed, if this is a dream and there is any hope to affect it, he concentrates, trying to will that a single rose petal is placed under his plate, hidden from his eyes.
He then carefully tips his plate, to see if there is a petal. Discreetly.
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Bjorn carefully follows the others, sheathing his claymore. He seems lost in all this, but his actions are quick, his eyes always watchful scan the room [OOC: Spot check for anything that might reveal more clues or endanger them further]. However he is careful not to miss any reaction of the vampires, especially when Medlorhie mentions the Lord of the Manor [OOC: Sense motive on the vampires].
He sits, always alert, his left hand close to the claymore, his right hand never touching the food or drinks.
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The female vampire waves your questions away;
"First we eat. Then there will be games. Afterwards we'll see if the Lady of the manor would like to speak with you."
Seeing as none of you are actually eating anything;
"Well, it seems you have already had your fill. I cannot fault you; I too do find food so bland..."
Chuckles all around
"...so perhaps we should just go directly to the games?"
The other vampires look poised and ready to strike.
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Patriarch Rashid follows Medhlorie's lead, but eats or drinks nothing. Indeed, if this is a dream and there is any hope to affect it, he concentrates, trying to will that a single rose petal is placed under his plate, hidden from his eyes.
He then carefully tips his plate, to see if there is a petal. Discreetly.
Yes, there is a petal there. As you look up again you stare at a smiling vampire - who is also looking under his plate; there is a petal there.
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Slowly rising, every fiber tense and prepared to leap back, Rashid says; "No, no games yet mylady, first I propose a toast."
Rashid pushes his plate to the side, exposing the petal, with the other he picks up his wine glass, lifting it to their hosts, he begins slow; "As we are all here together, and similar in desires, we must remember that this petal, proves that each foe is tied to each one of us, yet there is one foe too many, strike the one not reflecting itself in us!" Rashid speaks faster and louder as he ends his sentence, kicking his chair backwards, and shifting into a combat stance with the Sun Sword raised before him.
"There is a woman too many among them! - Close together, let them not touch you."
{OOC: I'm using my Noble class ability as Inspiring Leader, all who looks to me for guidance gains +1 morale bonus to attack, damage, will saves vs. fear and mind-affecting and all skill checks, this round. :P}
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The High Marshal frowns in concentration, a glowing radiance seems to emanate from his skin, moving to protect the Mhor's side he tries to see which of the women does not match one of his colleagues - and which one of the males starts to glow in response to his own light...
He does not immediately press, preferring to strike beside the others, if indeed this comes to blows and the dance does not continue...
As he waits the High Marshal prays,
Great Haelyn, may I honour your teachings this day;
Lord Erik, may my feet find clear, solid ground;
Great Haelyn, grant me strength to stand ‘gainst my foes;
Lady Sera, may your luck walk with me;
Great Haelyn, grant me courage to dare this battle;
Lady Nesirie, may your mercy be with me in battle;
Great Haelyn, grant me the wisdom to see friend from foe;
Lady Avani, may your light shine on me;
Great Haelyn, grant me the honour to strike true;
Lord Ruornil, may you keep the Shadow from me;
Great Haelyn, grant me victory this day
[OOC: if any spell protects against level drains he's casting it, if not turn undead comes to mind...]
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The vampire-speaker doesn't look too impressed.
"Is there no sayim to be observed anymore? Here you are invited to a feast before we feast upon you...one would not want guests to go hungry, and yo cannot even be civil? The Master will be most displeased.
Nevermind...let the games begin!"
With that the room is plunged into darkness, and each of you feels very much alone for a moment - until that feeling is replaced by that feeling of being watched.
The voice of the speaker turns mellow and fades:
"Perhaps, if you prove to be good sport, I might even make one of you my servant. Yes, you have the sworn word of Adaliz bint-Daouta; the one among you who provides the best sport I shall make a true vampire, so that he might serve me for eternity""
The seventh vampire is Adaliz! Her true identity hidden by the glamers of this place!
Each player should state what they are doing, in as much detail as they'd like. The use of light and protective magic is of great interest; but other tactics might work as well.
OOC: For the slow-of-mind; each of you is now individually going to be stalked by a vampiric fellow who wants to kill you.
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Bjorn rises abruptly from his seats, his claymore in his hands. He moves carefully towards the High Marshal, trying to block any vampire's advance towards the priest. His eyes stare coldly at the vampires, the initial shock long gone, as if it was never there. His moves are calculated, so that he will not be easily flanked (by choosing terrain that hinders movement around him and the other companions). If any vampire attacks, he tries to block its attacks and keep it away (OOC: defensive stance), because he does not want to risk hitting a vampire linked to one of the companions.
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Bjorn rises abruptly from his seats, his claymore in his hands. He moves carefully towards the High Marshal, trying to block any vampire's advance towards the priest. His eyes stare coldly at the vampires, the initial shock long gone, as if it was never there. His moves are calculated, so that he will not be easily flanked (by choosing terrain that hinders movement around him and the other companions). If any vampire attacks, he tries to block its attacks and keep it away (OOC: defensive stance), because he does not want to risk hitting a vampire linked to one of the companions.
Re-read my last post; you are ALONE in the dark, save for ONE vampire.
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IC:
Almost immediately after the place is consumed in darkness, Elamien, who had been sitting quite peacefully, even during the Patriarch's speech,--though with a somewhat despondent aspect to her visage,--lifts an hand to her neck and to the relatively nondescript yet fine piece of jewellery, which encircles it. Running her fingers across the five shapes of silver and gold, which hang thence, she removes the smallest of these and, when the voice of Ariadne has ceased, tosses it across the table,--if in fact the table remains,--toward the presumed location of the vampire, who had apparently been focused, most especially, upon her several movements. She then spins out of her chair and backs away cautiously, either aided by the light of a projectile, which bursts into flame upon contact with some object, or trusting to her familiarity with movement in darkness, in the event that the projectile has no visible effect. Removing a second item from the necklace, she holds this in her left hand as she readies her rapier, in her right. . . .
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Rashid focuses his sense of evil, probing the dark around him. "Avanalae, guide your servant. Avanalae Light My Path." With the words, the Sun Sword glows with the deep red hues of imminent dawn, spreading it rays some distance.
Long shadows dance behind Rashid, as he scans his surroundings. "Remember these masks Adaliz? - Our legacy... Our Birthright. We are slayers of those unfit to live." With one hand, Rashid pulls his mask from his belt and pulls it over his head. (See Regent Portrait)
"And you my dear sister, are long done living..." A quick spin, checking behind; "As Hammoud did, so will I. Your defeat is imminent, inevitable!"
OOC: Intimidating for all I've got. Yea, trying to enrage the vampire to fall on my Sun Sword. +13 to skill check.
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Bjorn rises abruptly from his seats, his claymore in his hands. He moves carefully towards the High Marshal, trying to block any vampire's advance towards the priest. His eyes stare coldly at the vampires, the initial shock long gone, as if it was never there. His moves are calculated, so that he will not be easily flanked (by choosing terrain that hinders movement around him and the other companions). If any vampire attacks, he tries to block its attacks and keep it away (OOC: defensive stance), because he does not want to risk hitting a vampire linked to one of the companions.
Re-read my last post; you are ALONE in the dark, save for ONE vampire.
[OOC: Sorry about that. ]
Bjorn slowly walks towards the closest wall (from what he remembers). His ears must serve as his eyes now [Listen check for any approaching footsteps]. He holds his claymore protectively in front of himself, ready to strike at the first sign of an approaching vampire.
His main effort is to keep those creatures from harming him [OOC: Assumes defensive stance], until a source of light is found.
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Robhan's sword glows brightly and he listened intently for movement as he carefully paced to the side, Blessed Haelyn, grant me light in the darkness to drive away the Shadows, in the daylight world the prayer would turn the crest of his helm into a beacon of light to shame any lantern that would cast light far ahead of him, and whether through Haelyn's might or Glamour of the Seeming he would have it shine for him now...
OOC: Light magic = continual light+wanting it to be that way & seeming, protective=deathward, rest is whatever is usual
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IC:
Almost immediately after the place is consumed in darkness, Elamien, who had been sitting quite peacefully, even during the Patriarch's speech,--though with a somewhat despondent aspect to her visage,--lifts an hand to her neck and to the relatively nondescript yet fine piece of jewellery, which encircles it. Running her fingers across the five shapes of silver and gold, which hang thence, she removes the smallest of these and, when the voice of Ariadne has ceased, tosses it across the table,--if in fact the table remains,--toward the presumed location of the vampire, who had apparently been focused, most especially, upon her several movements. She then spins out of her chair and backs away cautiously, either aided by the light of a projectile, which bursts into flame upon contact with some object, or trusting to her familiarity with movement in darkness, in the event that the projectile has no visible effect. Removing a second item from the necklace, she holds this in her left hand as she readies her rapier, in her right. . . .
You catch a glimpse of the the vampire as it leaps away from the flames, faster than any human could hope to move. You strongly doubt you ability to hit it with a projectile. The flames do, however, create some light, which is in all ways beneficial to you (since you assume that vampires can see - perfectly well - in the dark).
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Bjorn slowly walks towards the closest wall (from what he remembers). His ears must serve as his eyes now [Listen check for any approaching footsteps]. He holds his claymore protectively in front of himself, ready to strike at the first sign of an approaching vampire.
His main effort is to keep those creatures from harming him [OOC: Assumes defensive stance], until a source of light is found.
There is no light, unless you make your own. Your hearing and sense of presence is, however, quite keen...the vampire tries, three times, to assault you from behind. Each time it is met with enchanted steel; against which undead flesh seem resistant, but not immune. Each blow would have cut a man in half, but the vampire comes across but lightly injured. It hisses, then falls back into the darkness.
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Robhan's sword glows brightly and he listened intently for movement as he carefully paced to the side, Blessed Haelyn, grant me light in the darkness to drive away the Shadows, in the daylight world the prayer would turn the crest of his helm into a beacon of light to shame any lantern that would cast light far ahead of him, and whether through Haelyn's might or Glamour of the Seeming he would have it shine for him now...
OOC: Light magic = continual light+wanting it to be that way & seeming, protective=deathward, rest is whatever is usual
The previously so handsome male vampire that sat opposite your comes snarling into the light, turned into a hideous monstrosity of fangs and claws and undead flesh. It is not a subtle creature, but one of rage and ferocity. Monster and champion of light clash, and Robhan is fighting the fight of his life...
-
Rashid focuses his sense of evil, probing the dark around him. "Avanalae, guide your servant. Avanalae Light My Path." With the words, the Sun Sword glows with the deep red hues of imminent dawn, spreading it rays some distance.
Long shadows dance behind Rashid, as he scans his surroundings. "Remember these masks Adaliz? - Our legacy... Our Birthright. We are slayers of those unfit to live." With one hand, Rashid pulls his mask from his belt and pulls it over his head. (See Regent Portrait)
"And you my dear sister, are long done living..." A quick spin, checking behind; "As Hammoud did, so will I. Your defeat is imminent, inevitable!"
OOC: Intimidating for all I've got. Yea, trying to enrage the vampire to fall on my Sun Sword. +13 to skill check.
The light of the Sun Sword is not as bright as it uses to, but that is to be expected. It does, however, create more than enough light for you to see by.
Your opponent, one of the male vampires, turn to mist before your eyes, and then his is gone, only to reappear on the other side of the hall, laughing. Three great black worgs stand at his side. He points at you and they race forward and around your flanks...
-
Rashid focuses his sense of evil, probing the dark around him. "Avanalae, guide your servant. Avanalae Light My Path." With the words, the Sun Sword glows with the deep red hues of imminent dawn, spreading it rays some distance.
Long shadows dance behind Rashid, as he scans his surroundings. "Remember these masks Adaliz? - Our legacy... Our Birthright. We are slayers of those unfit to live." With one hand, Rashid pulls his mask from his belt and pulls it over his head. (See Regent Portrait)
"And you my dear sister, are long done living..." A quick spin, checking behind; "As Hammoud did, so will I. Your defeat is imminent, inevitable!"
OOC: Intimidating for all I've got. Yea, trying to enrage the vampire to fall on my Sun Sword. +13 to skill check.
The light of the Sun Sword is not as bright as it uses to, but that is to be expected. It does, however, create more than enough light for you to see by.
Your opponent, one of the male vampires, turn to mist before your eyes, and then his is gone, only to reappear on the other side of the hall, laughing. Three great black worgs stand at his side. He points at you and they race forward and around your flanks...
"Worgs, you send Worgs to do your bidding?" Rashid shifts forward, into the press, getting the table on one flank, he takes the Sun Sword in both hands and cuts deeply twice into the nearest worg.
He parries the lunge from the one at his front, and the other climbs the table to jump him from there. Rashid then lifts his hand, and a ripple of force booms through the room "Begone animals!" his voice echoes, empowered by his bloodability.
As the animals cower and turn, he swiftly makes an attack of opportunity as they pass.
Getting his breath, Rashid tries to find the will to alter the dream; "Oh ancient Basaïa, let the wings in my blood manifest. Let the eagles of the plains stand vivid in my mind, and let them come to my aid in this dark place, begone roof, let sky be shown and talons of vengence descent!"
OOC: I'm using my Aura of Charm to scare the worgs, if they are less than 6th level they run on a failed save.
Then, since the wolves were "new", Rashid tries to match his opponent, by thinking of the one animal he is most tied to, the eagles. He has Animal Affinity as a Major, so he speaks with them, and with Charm Aura he can charm them for further control. - He might just be standing there, muttering to himself though... :)
-
The previously so handsome male vampire that sat opposite your comes snarling into the light, turned into a hideous monstrosity of fangs and claws and undead flesh. It is not a subtle creature, but one of rage and ferocity. Monster and champion of light clash, and Robhan is fighting the fight of his life...
Robhan grinned ferally, "so your true face is revealed demon, no wonder you preferred glamour and left the speaking to your fellows!"
Giving ground as required the High Marshal fought defensively, with his blade he had reach on the beast, it could not approach without injury and so long as he kept moving could not close as it clearly desired. Robhan grimaced in pain as a swinging claw left scores in his bracer and ducked the follow up blow, courage Haelyn's child, so ferocious an onslaught cannot endure, even with vampiric vitality stern martial training mixed with faith in his soul and the Marshal remained icily calm. Swallowing his pain the High Marshal battled on, should some taunt or continued failure enrage the brute further, then careless rage would leave Robhan some opening, some chance to make a skillful blow that would cripple the beast, skill always beats brute force if courage holds...
Taunting the Vampire whenever he had breath and praying for light and protection against evil whenever he could Robhan fought grimly on - others needed his aid, if the beast did not falter soon, he would have to act more aggressively or fail his allies, spotting a chair broken on the floor Robhan began easing the fight round to it, if the vampire did not see the chair in its ferocious rush, then a stumble might grant Robhan the chance he needed...
-
"Worgs, you send Worgs to do your bidding?" Rashid shifts forward, into the press, getting the table on one flank, he takes the Sun Sword in both hands and cuts deeply twice into the nearest worg.
He parries the lunge from the one at his front, and the other climbs the table to jump him from there. Rashid then lifts his hand, and a ripple of force booms through the room "Begone animals!" his voice echoes, empowered by his bloodability.
As the animals cower and turn, he swiftly makes an attack of opportunity as they pass.
Getting his breath, Rashid tries to find the will to alter the dream; "Oh ancient Basaïa, let the wings in my blood manifest. Let the eagles of the plains stand vivid in my mind, and let them come to my aid in this dark place, begone roof, let sky be shown and talons of vengence descent!"
OOC: I'm using my Aura of Charm to scare the worgs, if they are less than 6th level they run on a failed save.
Then, since the wolves were "new", Rashid tries to match his opponent, by thinking of the one animal he is most tied to, the eagles. He has Animal Affinity as a Major, so he speaks with them, and with Charm Aura he can charm them for further control. - He might just be standing there, muttering to himself though... :)
OOC: Not entirely sure what this Aura of Charm is? Bloodline related? Doesn't ring any bells. BRCS perhaps? But we'll assume that you're pretty intimidating.
OOC2: This is the way to do it; move the action forward. Of course, since you casually dealt with this round of opposition, I do get a freer rein this time around.
IC: You deal with the worgs, kill them or drive them away. Unfortunately, while you are preoccupied with your dreams of the sky and eagles, you are hit by some force and tossed against the wall. The fabled sun sword flies out of your hand, the vampire moves to seize it, but then thinks better of it and just kicks it away.
-
Rashid grabs hold of his holy symbol of Avanalae and presents it firmly. "Back off, creature. My Faith is strong and you will not have me!" He then begins to edge towards the sword, knowing that without it he is in serious trouble.
OOC: Yes, the Charm Aura is BRCS, I must admit I'm a little lost with regards to what source we are looking up our powers from?
-
Medlorhie quickly stands from the table just as the darkness consumes her, but darkness does not completely pass over her. A subtle light hidden by ambient light surrounds her head with a subtle glow before reaching ever so slightly towards the heavens before succumbing to the darkness. It is as if a single ray from the Lady of Light has descended upon her. Medlorhie is channeling a direct aspect of Avanlae ([Lesser Planar Ally], cast prior to the adventure start). As she stands, she touches a plate to infuse it with the power of light. [Daylight]
Holding she raises her hand to her chest over her holy symbol and four fingers of her other hand to her forehead and says quietly.
"O Great Lady, Most Benevolent Light, I seek refuge in Your Light from the Shadow and I seek refuge in Thee, My Lady, that they may know their works be undone." [Death Ward & Protection from Evil]
The next prays is in the most ancient of Basarji, used only when the clergy of Avanlae calls out to Her Divine Light in the Face of the Shadow. Medlorhie places her hands before her chest, palms toward one another.
"Avanlae is the light of the heavens and the earth. The allegory of Her light is that of a concave mirror behind a lamp that is placed inside a glass container. The glass container is like a bright, pearl-like star. The fuel thereof is supplied from a blessed oil-producing tree, that is neither eastern, nor western. Its oil is almost self-radiating; needs no fire to ignite it. Light upon light. Avanlae guides to Her light whoever wills to be guided. Avanlae thus cites the parables for the people. Avanlae is fully aware of all things. And now I return you to the Lady, She Who Cannot Bear the Darkness, I return you to death."
As she speaks, white light gathers in her hands. She calls out in a loud voice while thrusting her hands out a brief flash of light. [Turn Undead powered by the Sun Domain & Holy Smite]
Should these things not be enough, she switches to Searing Light or utilizes Summon Monster III/IV to confer upon herself a suitable attack form from one of Avani's servitors (Lantern Archon Light Ray for instance, or something like that).
OOC: Modified, since I read Bjorn's post, and since we are alone.
-
There is no light, unless you make your own. Your hearing and sense of presence is, however, quite keen...the vampire tries, three times, to assault you from behind. Each time it is met with enchanted steel; against which undead flesh seem resistant, but not immune. Each blow would have cut a man in half, but the vampire comes across but lightly injured. It hisses, then falls back into the darkness.
Bjorn has now withdrawn close to the wall. He stays there, his back close to the wall to avoid any surprise attacks from behind. He still depends on his hearing [OOC: Unless he has a torch with him. If he does, he lights it] (How much he would like a torch right now...) to warn him of the approach of the vampire.
He says whispering in the dark:
"Now we shall play a game I like very much .. fangy. It is called do or say something to make me angry, really angry."
His motivation is to make the vampire lose its confidence, or if he is lucky and the vampire accepts the challenge, make him furious.
-
Rashid grabs hold of his holy symbol of Avanalae and presents it firmly. "Back off, creature. My Faith is strong and you will not have me!" He then begins to edge towards the sword, knowing that without it he is in serious trouble.
The vampire merely smiles, standing just out of arms reach. Rashid moves closer to the sword, eyes fixed on the vampire, stumbling a bit on the thick carpet edge. The vampire lunges forward, only to veer back when Rashid recovers and raise the symbol again. The vampire hisses threateningly.
"Look me in the eye Rashid... Yield to me..." Rashid feels dizzy and nauseous, his will beginning to flag, why go on? - The vampire moves behind him and croones; "Just be still... soon there will be no more worries, Elinie will be ours..." as the vampire leans in to bite, thoughts rush through Rashid's head; "Elinie... theirs? - nnNo! NO! - Wait!" Regaining his will, Rashid buckles in the knees while swinging the pointy halfsun symbol into the face of the vampire. With a shriek it jumps backwards and vanish in a poof.
The Sun Sword on the floor is waning in light, without the will of the bearer, the light is dying out!
Rashid rolls forward, grabbing desperately for his sword in the dark, he can hear a flapping sound from behind and then something is on his mask, biting in the leather, trying to find flesh beneath!
Rolling on the floor, trying to dislodge the bat and still get ahold of his sword, Rashid grabs for the blade and gets a hold near the guard, and feels how blood seeps down the inside of his left glove as the keen edge of the sword bites into the palm.
Biting back a curse, scrunching up his shoulders to deter the incessant bat, now going increasingly berserk due to the smell of blood, Rashid finally gets the Sun Sword into his right hand.
"Avanalae, in our darkest hour, let there be LIGHT!!" The darkness explodes in white light, as if the brightest desert sun is right there in the room.
The bat squeels and flees, smoke trailing its form, as it flies crazily in and out of the stark shadows cast by the light. It falls to the ground behind the heavy wall-curtains on the opposite side of the room.
Rashid uses the reprieve to check his hand, its a bad cut, but nothing seems broken or severed. The Sword's reserves spent, it dims to the dull pre-dawn glow that seems to be all it is able to perform indefinately in this place.
A sound, like a steak hitting a frying pan, issues from behind the curtains and something moves there. Rashid, right hand on the sword, the left, trailing blood, clutching the holy symbol advance, the table between him and the curtains.
With a horrible scream, the vampire throws itself through the room, its covered in burn scars, but seems to be recovering at an alarming rate!
In a flash it is on Rashid, but he manages to put the sword between them, hitting the vampire clumsily over the chest, it still springs into a burst of flame where the sword hits its clothes, recoiling, the vampire pads down the flames and the two stand facing each other.
Rashid panting, the vampire inexorably regrowing lost skin, time is of the essence. They circle, the vampire easily staying out of Rahids reach. It is angry though, and the blood still flows freely from Rashid hand.
The vampire, desperate for the blood, but fearing the holy blade, grabs things off the dinner table, a plate, a stein, a heavy serving platter, a bottle of wine, a chair!
There is little Rashid can do as the barrage slams into him. He can parry a few of the larger items, but the glassware shatters and sends showers of sharp splinters into his skin and the metal and clay items hit with massive force, leaving bruises and stunned muscles.
Rashid keeps up the pursuit, trying desperately to get within striking range of the vampire. The vampire, running out of missiles to throw begins lifting the massive table. Rashid, thinking it has overextended itself, steps forward as he vampire strains, lifting first one end, then shifting grip, raising the table over its head, fangs out, eyes wild, it begins lurching towards Rashid.
The table, easily able to crush a man, does not seem palatable to Rashid, and he turns, crouching into a run as the table and vampire bears down on him, with a huge thundering blow, the table strikes the floor and then the back of Rashid, the wall suddenly looms up before him and his head slams into it, smashing his temple and nose, the weight of the table presses his chest flat before it comes to a rest against the wall.
The hilt of the Sun Sword, having faced the wall as Rashid raised his hands, has driven the point clear through the table and there was a terrible scream from the other side.
Rashid is woozy and loses consciousness for a few brief moments, he is not sure if seconds or minutes pass, but he summons his divine grace to grant him life and carefully begins to assess the situation...
(OOC: Ok? - Did I get it? :) )
-
IC:
Almost immediately after the place is consumed in darkness, Elamien, who had been sitting quite peacefully, even during the Patriarch's speech,--though with a somewhat despondent aspect to her visage,--lifts an hand to her neck and to the relatively nondescript yet fine piece of jewellery, which encircles it. Running her fingers across the five shapes of silver and gold, which hang thence, she removes the smallest of these and, when the voice of Ariadne has ceased, tosses it across the table,--if in fact the table remains,--toward the presumed location of the vampire, who had apparently been focused, most especially, upon her several movements. She then spins out of her chair and backs away cautiously, either aided by the light of a projectile, which bursts into flame upon contact with some object, or trusting to her familiarity with movement in darkness, in the event that the projectile has no visible effect. Removing a second item from the necklace, she holds this in her left hand as she readies her rapier, in her right. . . .
You catch a glimpse of the the vampire as it leaps away from the flames, faster than any human could hope to move. You strongly doubt you ability to hit it with a projectile. The flames do, however, create some light, which is in all ways beneficial to you (since you assume that vampires can see - perfectly well - in the dark).
IC:
In the brief moments, which she has bought herself, Elamien bolts in the opposite direction, toward the double doors, which at least formerly led to the sitting room, tossing the second item from the necklace blindly in her wake, in order to prevent or delay an attack from the rear. As she hears this projectile, too, burst into flames, she dives across the great threshold, veering to the right and rolling to a crouching but defensive position, her rapier held high in defense of her life. Muscles firm, eyes alert, she is prepared to strike at any figure, which should follow her through the aperture, limned in the dim red light of magical flames, beyond. . . .
-
There is no light, unless you make your own. Your hearing and sense of presence is, however, quite keen...the vampire tries, three times, to assault you from behind. Each time it is met with enchanted steel; against which undead flesh seem resistant, but not immune. Each blow would have cut a man in half, but the vampire comes across but lightly injured. It hisses, then falls back into the darkness.
Bjorn has now withdrawn close to the wall. He stays there, his back close to the wall to avoid any surprise attacks from behind. He still depends on his hearing [OOC: Unless he has a torch with him. If he does, he lights it] (How much he would like a torch right now...) to warn him of the approach of the vampire.
He says whispering in the dark:
"Now we shall play a game I like very much .. fangy. It is called do or say something to make me angry, really angry."
His motivation is to make the vampire lose its confidence, or if he is lucky and the vampire accepts the challenge, make him furious.
Bjorn continues to taunt the vampire, mocking him with words and preventing him from making any worthwhile attacks. It even tries its own word and mind games, but its power over Bjorn has already been broken. Finally its patience wears out and it makes and all out attack; a fatal mistake. Even undead flesh imbued with unholy power is no match of an enchanted claymore wielded by strong hands. Suddenly the thing is only trying to get way, only to find itself pierced through the hear and pinned to the floor, helpless. Drawing his dagger Bjorn slowly saws the thing's head from its body...it is immediately reduced to a shrunken and lifeless husk.
-
IC:
In the brief moments, which she has bought herself, Elamien bolts in the opposite direction, toward the double doors, which at least formerly led to the sitting room, tossing the second item from the necklace blindly in her wake, in order to prevent or delay an attack from the rear. As she hears this projectile, too, burst into flames, she dives across the great threshold, veering to the right and rolling to a crouching but defensive position, her rapier held high in defense of her life. Muscles firm, eyes alert, she is prepared to strike at any figure, which should follow her through the aperture, limned in the dim red light of magical flames, beyond. . . .
Nothing crosses the threshold; instead you hear outraged screams from the banquet hall. Outrage that turn into pure hate and the fear, before being cut short by the sounds of a terrible struggle. Then the sounds are gone as quickly as they came...save a limp thud and the sound of a vampire head slowly rolling through the flames to stop before your feat.
You barely limps a dark shape on the other side of the flames, but when you blink it is gone. A secret ally?
-
Rashid grabs hold of his holy symbol of Avanalae and presents it firmly. "Back off, creature. My Faith is strong and you will not have me!" He then begins to edge towards the sword, knowing that without it he is in serious trouble.
The vampire merely smiles, standing just out of arms reach. Rashid moves closer to the sword, eyes fixed on the vampire, stumbling a bit on the thick carpet edge. The vampire lunges forward, only to veer back when Rashid recovers and raise the symbol again. The vampire hisses threateningly.
"Look me in the eye Rashid... Yield to me..." Rashid feels dizzy and nauseous, his will beginning to flag, why go on? - The vampire moves behind him and croones; "Just be still... soon there will be no more worries, Elinie will be ours..." as the vampire leans in to bite, thoughts rush through Rashid's head; "Elinie... theirs? - nnNo! NO! - Wait!" Regaining his will, Rashid buckles in the knees while swinging the pointy halfsun symbol into the face of the vampire. With a shriek it jumps backwards and vanish in a poof.
The Sun Sword on the floor is waning in light, without the will of the bearer, the light is dying out!
Rashid rolls forward, grabbing desperately for his sword in the dark, he can hear a flapping sound from behind and then something is on his mask, biting in the leather, trying to find flesh beneath!
Rolling on the floor, trying to dislodge the bat and still get ahold of his sword, Rashid grabs for the blade and gets a hold near the guard, and feels how blood seeps down the inside of his left glove as the keen edge of the sword bites into the palm.
Biting back a curse, scrunching up his shoulders to deter the incessant bat, now going increasingly berserk due to the smell of blood, Rashid finally gets the Sun Sword into his right hand.
"Avanalae, in our darkest hour, let there be LIGHT!!" The darkness explodes in white light, as if the brightest desert sun is right there in the room.
The bat squeels and flees, smoke trailing its form, as it flies crazily in and out of the stark shadows cast by the light. It falls to the ground behind the heavy wall-curtains on the opposite side of the room.
Rashid uses the reprieve to check his hand, its a bad cut, but nothing seems broken or severed. The Sword's reserves spent, it dims to the dull pre-dawn glow that seems to be all it is able to perform indefinately in this place.
A sound, like a steak hitting a frying pan, issues from behind the curtains and something moves there. Rashid, right hand on the sword, the left, trailing blood, clutching the holy symbol advance, the table between him and the curtains.
With a horrible scream, the vampire throws itself through the room, its covered in burn scars, but seems to be recovering at an alarming rate!
In a flash it is on Rashid, but he manages to put the sword between them, hitting the vampire clumsily over the chest, it still springs into a burst of flame where the sword hits its clothes, recoiling, the vampire pads down the flames and the two stand facing each other.
Rashid panting, the vampire inexorably regrowing lost skin, time is of the essence. They circle, the vampire easily staying out of Rahids reach. It is angry though, and the blood still flows freely from Rashid hand.
The vampire, desperate for the blood, but fearing the holy blade, grabs things off the dinner table, a plate, a stein, a heavy serving platter, a bottle of wine, a chair!
There is little Rashid can do as the barrage slams into him. He can parry a few of the larger items, but the glassware shatters and sends showers of sharp splinters into his skin and the metal and clay items hit with massive force, leaving bruises and stunned muscles.
Rashid keeps up the pursuit, trying desperately to get within striking range of the vampire. The vampire, running out of missiles to throw begins lifting the massive table. Rashid, thinking it has overextended itself, steps forward as he vampire strains, lifting first one end, then shifting grip, raising the table over its head, fangs out, eyes wild, it begins lurching towards Rashid.
The table, easily able to crush a man, does not seem palatable to Rashid, and he turns, crouching into a run as the table and vampire bears down on him, with a huge thundering blow, the table strikes the floor and then the back of Rashid, the wall suddenly looms up before him and his head slams into it, smashing his temple and nose, the weight of the table presses his chest flat before it comes to a rest against the wall.
The hilt of the Sun Sword, having faced the wall as Rashid raised his hands, has driven the point clear through the table and there was a terrible scream from the other side.
Rashid is woozy and loses consciousness for a few brief moments, he is not sure if seconds or minutes pass, but he summons his divine grace to grant him life and carefully begins to assess the situation...
(OOC: Ok? - Did I get it? :) )
Suddenly the table is torn away and tossed across the room, taking the Sun Sword with it. And enraged and light-burned vampire stands on the other side. He casually picks up the Patriarch and starts slamming him into the floor and wall - repeatedly. You try your best...but your best is worthless against his power. Then, as all power has left your limp body it sinks its fangs into your neck and drink deeply...
...the next you feel is a terrible heat; only the vampire's body shelter you from the worst of it. The beast screams and rolls to the side, coming up in a fighting stance. Maester Kaleiman is there, leaning heavily on his staff, horribly injured. With a twist of his hand the sun sword is torn from the table and hurtles towards the vampire, who counters it with powers of his own. Silence descends as wizard and vampire pit their will against each other...
-
The previously so handsome male vampire that sat opposite your comes snarling into the light, turned into a hideous monstrosity of fangs and claws and undead flesh. It is not a subtle creature, but one of rage and ferocity. Monster and champion of light clash, and Robhan is fighting the fight of his life...
Robhan grinned ferally, "so your true face is revealed demon, no wonder you preferred glamour and left the speaking to your fellows!"
Giving ground as required the High Marshal fought defensively, with his blade he had reach on the beast, it could not approach without injury and so long as he kept moving could not close as it clearly desired. Robhan grimaced in pain as a swinging claw left scores in his bracer and ducked the follow up blow, courage Haelyn's child, so ferocious an onslaught cannot endure, even with vampiric vitality stern martial training mixed with faith in his soul and the Marshal remained icily calm. Swallowing his pain the High Marshal battled on, should some taunt or continued failure enrage the brute further, then careless rage would leave Robhan some opening, some chance to make a skillful blow that would cripple the beast, skill always beats brute force if courage holds...
Taunting the Vampire whenever he had breath and praying for light and protection against evil whenever he could Robhan fought grimly on - others needed his aid, if the beast did not falter soon, he would have to act more aggressively or fail his allies, spotting a chair broken on the floor Robhan began easing the fight round to it, if the vampire did not see the chair in its ferocious rush, then a stumble might grant Robhan the chance he needed...
There is little time for such tricks, its claw against blade, will against will. And your blade and your will is the stronger; the holy warriors of Haelyn, armed with a holy relics, are not undone by simple shadowspawn! With a final mighty heave you cleave the beast near enough in twain, only to have it torn to mist before your eyes! The mist disappears into the dark...
-
Medlorhie quickly stands from the table just as the darkness consumes her, but darkness does not completely pass over her. A subtle light hidden by ambient light surrounds her head with a subtle glow before reaching ever so slightly towards the heavens before succumbing to the darkness. It is as if a single ray from the Lady of Light has descended upon her. Medlorhie is channeling a direct aspect of Avanlae ([Lesser Planar Ally], cast prior to the adventure start). As she stands, she touches a plate to infuse it with the power of light. [Daylight]
Holding she raises her hand to her chest over her holy symbol and four fingers of her other hand to her forehead and says quietly.
"O Great Lady, Most Benevolent Light, I seek refuge in Your Light from the Shadow and I seek refuge in Thee, My Lady, that they may know their works be undone." [Death Ward & Protection from Evil]
The next prays is in the most ancient of Basarji, used only when the clergy of Avanlae calls out to Her Divine Light in the Face of the Shadow. Medlorhie places her hands before her chest, palms toward one another.
"Avanlae is the light of the heavens and the earth. The allegory of Her light is that of a concave mirror behind a lamp that is placed inside a glass container. The glass container is like a bright, pearl-like star. The fuel thereof is supplied from a blessed oil-producing tree, that is neither eastern, nor western. Its oil is almost self-radiating; needs no fire to ignite it. Light upon light. Avanlae guides to Her light whoever wills to be guided. Avanlae thus cites the parables for the people. Avanlae is fully aware of all things. And now I return you to the Lady, She Who Cannot Bear the Darkness, I return you to death."
As she speaks, white light gathers in her hands. She calls out in a loud voice while thrusting her hands out a brief flash of light. [Turn Undead powered by the Sun Domain & Holy Smite]
Should these things not be enough, she switches to Searing Light or utilizes Summon Monster III/IV to confer upon herself a suitable attack form from one of Avani's servitors (Lantern Archon Light Ray for instance, or something like that).
OOC: Modified, since I read Bjorn's post, and since we are alone.
The beast screams, turns into mist and hides somewhere in the dark shadows. Then you hear them approaching from all sides; the vampire's servants, rushing you, trying to pull you down. You hear laughter in the distance, and then the room become pitch black.
-
Awaiting posting from at least a few participants.
PETG/Mhoried have defeated their opponent, and can perhaps explore or do something really creative.
-
Rashid coughs, thick fluid spilling down his chest. He weakly wipes his eyes free of blood to better see the scene before him.
The room is in ruins, broken furniture is everywhere, the tablecloth is on fire as is several small patches of debris, lighting the room in a nightmarish glow.
The vampire and Kaleiman are facing off, hands extended in a bid to control the Sun Sword as it hangs in the air between them, spinning quickly, swinging like a pendulum from first one side, then back towards the other.
Whoever loses the battle of will is sure to be impaled or worse... "Well, lose the battle of will, or becomes sufficiently distracted." Rashid thinks to himself.
Attempting to not make noise, he tries to gain his feet, but dizzy from the loss of blood, he makes do with crawling on his knees. Scanning for a weapon, his hand closes upon a broken piece of wood, a sharp point looking a fine candidate for an improvised stake.
"Thats gonna get his attention," Rashid thinks. He then begins the agonising crawl towards the vampire's back. Its concentration appears to be on the battle of wills, assuming Rashid broken and unable to resist, or so Rashid hopes, and bitterly conclude, its very close to the truth.
At the last few yards, Rashid gathers strength, then with a surge of sheer willpower, he gets to his feet and makes a final silent charge towards the vampire's back, going for the blow that will end it one way or another, even if he fails to hit, Kaleiman might finish the job.
-
Rashid coughs, thick fluid spilling down his chest. He weakly wipes his eyes free of blood to better see the scene before him.
The room is in ruins, broken furniture is everywhere, the tablecloth is on fire as is several small patches of debris, lighting the room in a nightmarish glow.
The vampire and Kaleiman are facing off, hands extended in a bid to control the Sun Sword as it hangs in the air between them, spinning quickly, swinging like a pendulum from first one side, then back towards the other.
Whoever loses the battle of will is sure to be impaled or worse... "Well, lose the battle of will, or becomes sufficiently distracted." Rashid thinks to himself.
Attempting to not make noise, he tries to gain his feet, but dizzy from the loss of blood, he makes do with crawling on his knees. Scanning for a weapon, his hand closes upon a broken piece of wood, a sharp point looking a fine candidate for an improvised stake.
"Thats gonna get his attention," Rashid thinks. He then begins the agonising crawl towards the vampire's back. Its concentration appears to be on the battle of wills, assuming Rashid broken and unable to resist, or so Rashid hopes, and bitterly conclude, its very close to the truth.
At the last few yards, Rashid gathers strength, then with a surge of sheer willpower, he gets to his feet and makes a final silent charge towards the vampire's back, going for the blow that will end it one way or another, even if he fails to hit, Kaleiman might finish the job.
You never make it far enough to attack the vampire; he just turns his head and sends you fling with a fist to the chest. It is enough, however, to give the wizard the advantage. The Sun Sword spins around one final time before hurtling forward into the vampire's chest. It cachets fire, and in seconds only ash remains...Kaleiman drop like a sack of...something not very mobile...
-
IC:
In the brief moments, which she has bought herself, Elamien bolts in the opposite direction, toward the double doors, which at least formerly led to the sitting room, tossing the second item from the necklace blindly in her wake, in order to prevent or delay an attack from the rear. As she hears this projectile, too, burst into flames, she dives across the great threshold, veering to the right and rolling to a crouching but defensive position, her rapier held high in defense of her life. Muscles firm, eyes alert, she is prepared to strike at any figure, which should follow her through the aperture, limned in the dim red light of magical flames, beyond. . . .
Nothing crosses the threshold; instead you hear outraged screams from the banquet hall. Outrage that turn into pure hate and the fear, before being cut short by the sounds of a terrible struggle. Then the sounds are gone as quickly as they came...save a limp thud and the sound of a vampire head slowly rolling through the flames to stop before your feat.
You barely limps a dark shape on the other side of the flames, but when you blink it is gone. A secret ally?
IC:
Elamien stares into the banquet hall for some seconds, as she gathers her poise; then, glancing down at the sad sign of decapitation, she shakes her head, stands, and steps over it. She walks around for a time, searching for she knows not what, yet searching none the less. . . . At length, aided by a make-shift torch, she approaches the bedroom, in which she apparently slept, in order to discover some means of escaping her isolation. Entering, she advances to the window, whence came the cold half-light of a false and shadowy dawn, when she awoke upon this darksome day. . . .
-
Bjorn leaves the remains of the vampire on the ground, and takes a good look around [OOC: Spot]. He does not look ready to believe that this vampire was the only one stalking him. Not when his life is on the line.
He starts walking carefully in the dark [OOC: Move Silently] listening for the faintest sound [OOC: Listen], always one hand touching the wall (to avoid losing all sense of direction and perspective of the room). He is searching for a door, a way out of the room. Right now he is concerned about the others. Frankly, they did not seem to him to have been ready for this kind of fight. He was a survivalist, and it was time to put his skills in use.
If Bjorn finds a way out, he will try to take it, very carefully. He also tries to remember the face of the Patriarch Rashid. After having heard a lot of stories about the Shadow World, he is willing to try almost everything to find the others, even if it seems useless and a bunch of superstitions to him.
-
She curses, dropping her staff-spear.
She reaches low to the ground, before spinning invoke the Saints of Avani to her cause and protection, enveloping herself in wispy bluish flames, casting a small glow [Fire Shield, Sun Domain]. With the same fluid motion draws her saber, and braces her for them.
The onslaught is swift and deadly but the attackers underestimate the small woman. The first Worg slam into her head on knocking Medlorhie back, and causing the two flanking Worgs to miss their target. As the first worg recoils from the flames, Medlorhie slices downward with her saber, a vicious blow which cleaves its snout in two. The second Worg swipes her leg, where her armor is thin. The blow draws blood and takes her left out from under her; she lands heavily, but the second Worg stumbles on a badly burned paw. Her saber sprawls away, as she claws for her nearby spear.
The third Worg leaps slamming into Medlorhie on the ground. There is the satisfying crunch of bone, as Medlorhie cries out in pain from a broken rib. Yet, Medlorhie's is not the only cry, for the Worg, wholly exposed to the flames, shrieks in pain, before rolling in the side.
She reaches her spear and stands shakily. The second Worg circles menacing near her, obviously favoring its left paw. Blood is running down her leg, making movement a little precarious. They circle a few moments, Medlorhie, summons light from her spear [Light]. The Worg springs, Medlorhie drops to the ground, only to thrust up with the business end of her spear, skewering the Worg for a brief moment (Kabob anyone?).
Medlorhie stands to survey the area to locate 'her' vampire when from the darkness a chair flies, slamming hard into Medlorhie and propelling her into the wall behind her. For a moment she is dazed, yet she stands.
"You are too old. Are you not growing tired, High Hierophant?" A taunting voices calls from the darkness beyond the reach of her light.
A plate flies from the darkness, Medlorhie only barely dodges, but the motion wracks her body with pain. She circles to her sword picking it up ever so carefully.
Medlorehie knows that she cannot last long; she is a priestess not a warrior. A sage, not a swordsman. She steels herself, and silently gives a prayer to the Lady, only to be blessed with inspiration.
Medlorhie smiles every so slightly into the darkness.
"Do you greet death with a smile, Light of Avanlae?" The taunting voice responds tinged with the huff of exertion.
Medlorhie hurls her spear in the direction of the voice, reaching up to her holy symbol, while calling on the light of the Lady. As it flies, it passes by a table heading in the opposite direction. Just as the Vampire is revealed, Medlorhie releases a searing ray of Avani's retribution [Searing Light], only to promptly have a table crash into her, slamming her to the a wall, which she slowly slides down.
-
Pain... Life is pain. Sleep now. No... Not yet. Drowsily Rashid drags himself into a sitting position, heaving deep breaths after being winded, battered, drained, sliced and even spattered with various foods. It tough to be the Patriarch, but someones got to do it.
He pushes aside debris, as he crawls first to the Sun Sword, picking it up for its light, then as fast as he is able, he moves to Maester Kaleiman and praying for the strength to do so, lets his last powers of healing flow into the old man.
Then he tends to himself, using wraps of cloth to stem bleeding. The bite marks sieving a leak that thankfully seems to be clotting. He wraps them and is pleased that the high collar somewhat covers the bandage.
His left arm is aching badly, its definately sprained, and the bone might have cracked a little, so he ties it up over his chest.
Checking the Maester, Rashid begins to wonder if this nightmare will ever end. For now, he is content to sit with Kaleiman, sword glowing, just gathering his thoughts and a little strength.
He has taken his mask off, the air is thick with smoke from the small fires, and it is too hot to do anything really. Just a little rest...
-
There is little time for such tricks, its claw against blade, will against will. And your blade and your will is the stronger; the holy warriors of Haelyn, armed with a holy relics, are not undone by simple shadowspawn! With a final mighty heave you cleave the beast near enough in twain, only to have it torn to mist before your eyes! The mist disappears into the dark...
"Praise Haelyn" muttered Robhan swiftly bandaging his wounds. For a moment he considered following the fleeing mist, before shunning such idea as folly. He had proven victorious through the grace of the gods, but the others might have fared less well - and the true danger was the vampire queen, the Patriarch had no doubt vanquished his foe already with the aid of the blessed Sun Sword and he should not face so terrible a foe alone...
Shadow and illusion had separated the companions, light and truth would take him back to his fellows, Ruornil show me the path through these deceptions thought Robhan looking for any sign of his companions, any sign of tear in the veil of illusions about him that might lead him back to his fellows, but in vain, nothing. Robhan frowned, then concentrated hard on the light on his helm, seeing it as a veritable shard of the blessed sun until it burnt like a beacon in the gloom, Haelyn was king of kings, glorious were the luminaries of his court - his vizier high amongst them. Bright Lady Avani, show me the path to those in need, burn aside the shadows and let me see my companions...
Striding confidently forth Robhan readied himself for battle again...
-
IC:
Elamien stares into the banquet hall for some seconds, as she gathers her poise; then, glancing down at the sad sign of decapitation, she shakes her head, stands, and steps over it. She walks around for a time, searching for she knows not what, yet searching none the less. . . . At length, aided by a make-shift torch, she approaches the bedroom, in which she apparently slept, in order to discover some means of escaping her isolation. Entering, she advances to the window, whence came the cold half-light of a false and shadowy dawn, when she awoke upon this darksome day. . . .
You find Hierophant Gaerred Khaiarén of the LPA on the grand canopied bed...he seems awake, but confused. You suddenly get a feeling that all is not well with the High Hierophant.
Outside you see a darkened courtyard, surrounded by a high wall, with spikes atop. Numerous torches cast some light, but a thick and damp mist covers the ground, limiting visibility. You thinks you see dark shapes in the mist...guards...and other things; worgs perhaps? Though you are on the the second floor, you could easily climb down - if you wished it.
Gaerred Khaiarén is now awake an demands to know what this madness is; he dream of his mistress being torn to shreds by her own monks. Surely this is a nightmare? But wait, there is someone else in the bed with the Hierophant - Nairae Dhon. Surely they have not been...fornicating? It must be a trick of this place...
-
She curses, dropping her staff-spear.
She reaches low to the ground, before spinning invoke the Saints of Avani to her cause and protection, enveloping herself in wispy bluish flames, casting a small glow [Fire Shield, Sun Domain]. With the same fluid motion draws her saber, and braces her for them.
The onslaught is swift and deadly but the attackers underestimate the small woman. The first Worg slam into her head on knocking Medlorhie back, and causing the two flanking Worgs to miss their target. As the first worg recoils from the flames, Medlorhie slices downward with her saber, a vicious blow which cleaves its snout in two. The second Worg swipes her leg, where her armor is thin. The blow draws blood and takes her left out from under her; she lands heavily, but the second Worg stumbles on a badly burned paw. Her saber sprawls away, as she claws for her nearby spear.
The third Worg leaps slamming into Medlorhie on the ground. There is the satisfying crunch of bone, as Medlorhie cries out in pain from a broken rib. Yet, Medlorhie's is not the only cry, for the Worg, wholly exposed to the flames, shrieks in pain, before rolling in the side.
She reaches her spear and stands shakily. The second Worg circles menacing near her, obviously favoring its left paw. Blood is running down her leg, making movement a little precarious. They circle a few moments, Medlorhie, summons light from her spear [Light]. The Worg springs, Medlorhie drops to the ground, only to thrust up with the business end of her spear, skewering the Worg for a brief moment (Kabob anyone?).
Medlorhie stands to survey the area to locate 'her' vampire when from the darkness a chair flies, slamming hard into Medlorhie and propelling her into the wall behind her. For a moment she is dazed, yet she stands.
"You are too old. Are you not growing tired, High Hierophant?" A taunting voices calls from the darkness beyond the reach of her light.
A plate flies from the darkness, Medlorhie only barely dodges, but the motion wracks her body with pain. She circles to her sword picking it up ever so carefully.
Medlorehie knows that she cannot last long; she is a priestess not a warrior. A sage, not a swordsman. She steels herself, and silently gives a prayer to the Lady, only to be blessed with inspiration.
Medlorhie smiles every so slightly into the darkness.
"Do you greet death with a smile, Light of Avanlae?" The taunting voice responds tinged with the huff of exertion.
Medlorhie hurls her spear in the direction of the voice, reaching up to her holy symbol, while calling on the light of the Lady. As it flies, it passes by a table heading in the opposite direction. Just as the Vampire is revealed, Medlorhie releases a searing ray of Avani's retribution [Searing Light], only to promptly have a table crash into her, slamming her to the a wall, which she slowly slides down.
Medlorhie looks up to find her own warrior-monks standing around her; their blood-less lips drawn back to reveal wicked fangs. Then they descend upon her and the darkness comes rushing in...
Medlorhie is out; either dead or otherwise 'incapacitated'. Your warrior-monks have turned vampire-spawn, but Khaiarén and Dhon are no here to take up the light, so to speak.
-
Bjorn leaves the remains of the vampire on the ground, and takes a good look around [OOC: Spot]. He does not look ready to believe that this vampire was the only one stalking him. Not when his life is on the line.
He starts walking carefully in the dark [OOC: Move Silently] listening for the faintest sound [OOC: Listen], always one hand touching the wall (to avoid losing all sense of direction and perspective of the room). He is searching for a door, a way out of the room. Right now he is concerned about the others. Frankly, they did not seem to him to have been ready for this kind of fight. He was a survivalist, and it was time to put his skills in use.
If Bjorn finds a way out, he will try to take it, very carefully. He also tries to remember the face of the Patriarch Rashid. After having heard a lot of stories about the Shadow World, he is willing to try almost everything to find the others, even if it seems useless and a bunch of superstitions to him.
Bjorn hears sounds of armor moving...and focusing on that to the expulsion of everything else he starts making his way through the manor...when next he opens his eyes he sees High Marshal Khaiarén moving down the corridor, apparently oblivious to Bjorn's presence.
-
Pain... Life is pain. Sleep now. No... Not yet. Drowsily Rashid drags himself into a sitting position, heaving deep breaths after being winded, battered, drained, sliced and even spattered with various foods. It tough to be the Patriarch, but someones got to do it.
He pushes aside debris, as he crawls first to the Sun Sword, picking it up for its light, then as fast as he is able, he moves to Maester Kaleiman and praying for the strength to do so, lets his last powers of healing flow into the old man.
Then he tends to himself, using wraps of cloth to stem bleeding. The bite marks sieving a leak that thankfully seems to be clotting. He wraps them and is pleased that the high collar somewhat covers the bandage.
His left arm is aching badly, its definately sprained, and the bone might have cracked a little, so he ties it up over his chest.
Checking the Maester, Rashid begins to wonder if this nightmare will ever end. For now, he is content to sit with Kaleiman, sword glowing, just gathering his thoughts and a little strength.
He has taken his mask off, the air is thick with smoke from the small fires, and it is too hot to do anything really. Just a little rest...
You manage to stabilize the old wizard, before settling down on the floor, sword in your lap. You are done for; if they should attack again, you would have nothing to fight them with. Why don't they come? Have the others defeated all their opponents perhaps?
-
There is little time for such tricks, its claw against blade, will against will. And your blade and your will is the stronger; the holy warriors of Haelyn, armed with a holy relics, are not undone by simple shadowspawn! With a final mighty heave you cleave the beast near enough in twain, only to have it torn to mist before your eyes! The mist disappears into the dark...
"Praise Haelyn" muttered Robhan swiftly bandaging his wounds. For a moment he considered following the fleeing mist, before shunning such idea as folly. He had proven victorious through the grace of the gods, but the others might have fared less well - and the true danger was the vampire queen, the Patriarch had no doubt vanquished his foe already with the aid of the blessed Sun Sword and he should not face so terrible a foe alone...
Shadow and illusion had separated the companions, light and truth would take him back to his fellows, Ruornil show me the path through these deceptions thought Robhan looking for any sign of his companions, any sign of tear in the veil of illusions about him that might lead him back to his fellows, but in vain, nothing. Robhan frowned, then concentrated hard on the light on his helm, seeing it as a veritable shard of the blessed sun until it burnt like a beacon in the gloom, Haelyn was king of kings, glorious were the luminaries of his court - his vizier high amongst them. Bright Lady Avani, show me the path to those in need, burn aside the shadows and let me see my companions...
Striding confidently forth Robhan readied himself for battle again...
You feel a flare of holiness in the accursed place and make your way towards it; its confusing, corridors and rooms and hallways. Always more. But you keep the flare in your mind and try and ignore the manor as best you can...and then suddenly you think you see them - Patriarch Dauota, sitting next to Maester Kaleiman, look none too good, but alive!
You are about to approach them - when a hulking dark shape suddenly materializes to your right; a terrible werewolf or some such!
-
Bjorn hears sounds of armor moving...and focusing on that to the expulsion of everything else he starts making his way through the manor...when next he opens his eyes he sees High Marshal Khaiarén moving down the corridor, apparently oblivious to Bjorn's presence.
Bjorn examines the High Marshal's figure intensely [OOC: Spot]. He does not want to fall into a trap in this accursed place. He checks for anything strange on the High Marshal's movement (usually the first feature to betray a false identity), his face, his eyes, and the fluctuations of his voice (if he speaks His intention).
If he is certain that this is the High Marshal, he moves with his claymore in his hands and says:
"Greetings High Marshal. What is my tribe's name?".
This is an information he shared with the High Marshal, while they were travelling together to Ansien.
-
IC:
Elamien stares into the banquet hall for some seconds, as she gathers her poise; then, glancing down at the sad sign of decapitation, she shakes her head, stands, and steps over it. She walks around for a time, searching for she knows not what, yet searching none the less. . . . At length, aided by a make-shift torch, she approaches the bedroom, in which she apparently slept, in order to discover some means of escaping her isolation. Entering, she advances to the window, whence came the cold half-light of a false and shadowy dawn, when she awoke upon this darksome day. . . .
You find Hierophant Gaerred Khaiarén of the LPA on the grand canopied bed...he seems awake, but confused. You suddenly get a feeling that all is not well with the High Hierophant.
Outside you see a darkened courtyard, surrounded by a high wall, with spikes atop. Numerous torches cast some light, but a thick and damp mist covers the ground, limiting visibility. You thinks you see dark shapes in the mist...guards...and other things; worgs perhaps? Though you are on the the second floor, you could easily climb down - if you wished it.
Gaerred Khaiarén is now awake an demands to know what this madness is; he dream of his mistress being torn to shreds by her own monks. Surely this is a nightmare? But wait, there is someone else in the bed with the Hierophant - Nairae Dhon. Surely they have not been...fornicating? It must be a trick of this place...
IC:
"A nightmare, it may well be", laughs Elamien, with a generally sombre face, as she slowly shifts her attention away from the courtyard below to Gaerred Khaiarén . . . and Nairae Dhon, as it would apparently seem. She glances at each of them in turn, holding their eyes ever so briefly; then adds, as she turns away, looking out the window once more, "There is some clothing laid out on the dresser." . . . After some moments spent in relative silence, Elamien again speaks, "I know not the fate of the High Hierophant; but I, too, have a feeling that all is not well with her. If the two of you are ready, then I suggest that we attempt to find her within this mansion; for, without, I do not think that we would find aught but evil." And, believing them to be fully dressed, she faces them, awaiting their replies. . . .
-
Bjorn hears sounds of armor moving...and focusing on that to the expulsion of everything else he starts making his way through the manor...when next he opens his eyes he sees High Marshal Khaiarén moving down the corridor, apparently oblivious to Bjorn's presence.
Bjorn examines the High Marshal's figure intensely [OOC: Spot]. He does not want to fall into a trap in this accursed place. He checks for anything strange on the High Marshal's movement (usually the first feature to betray a false identity), his face, his eyes, and the fluctuations of his voice (if he speaks His intention).
If he is certain that this is the High Marshal, he moves with his claymore in his hands and says:
"Greetings High Marshal. What is my tribe's name?".
This is an information he shared with the High Marshal, while they were travelling together to Ansien.
And suddenly the High Marshal realizes that the werewolf is speaking to him - in accented Anuirean...and then there is no werewolf, only Bjorn the Fell-handed.
Yonder you see the Patriarch turn to gaze at you, confusion slowly being replaced by understanding as the seeming lifts and is replaced by a semblance of reality. Robhan and Bjorn is in the corridor, with the wizard and the Patriarch is in the banquet hall, and behind you all emerges Lamier and two others. The High Hierophant is nowhere to be seen...
-
Seeing first the High Marshal, Rashid yells; "Robhan! - Maester Kaleiman is gravely hurt..." Rashid tries to rise, but collapses back onto his knees. "...he needs your healing."
Noticing the forms behind the High Marshal; "And you are all safe! - Thank Avanalae for her light." His eyes goes to Elamien, but then he notices the missing hero.
"Medhlorie? - Where is the High Hierophant?" Once again he tries to rise, this time using the Sun Sword for support, and he makes it to standing up, slightly shaking.
-
IC:
States Elamien, "Her absence bodes not well." . . .
-
To the wilder-folk you are Thultrakka - and proudly won that name was, for not all warriors prove themselves worthy to bear it and to the wanderers of the fells I am known as Fireheart, for my warmth and generosity of course.
Carefully keeping his sword low Robhan thanked Haelyn for Bjorn's wit in calling out...
Considering the illusion he so nearly fell for, Robhan calls ahead to the Patriarch as he hastens towards him, "this is a place of fell illusion - but only those godly can sing holy prayer" as he approaches Robhan says a simple prayer spoken by many knights before they accept holy vows.
Great Haelyn, accept my heart this day
And make it always Thine,
That I from Thee never shall stray,
Nor from thy laws decline.
Anoint me with Thy heavenly grace,
Adopt me for Thine own,
That I may see Thy glorious face
And worship at Thy throne.
Let every thought and work and word
To Thee be ever given;
Then life shall be Thy service, Lord,
And death the gate of heaven.
He looks at the Patriarch, clearly awaiting his response as he comes closer.
-
To the wilder-folk you are Thultrakka - and proudly won that name was, for not all warriors prove themselves worthy to bear it and to the wanderers of the fells I am known as Fireheart, for my warmth and generosity of course.
Carefully keeping his sword low Robhan thanked Haelyn for Bjorn's wit in calling out...
Considering the illusion he so nearly fell for, Robhan calls ahead to the Patriarch as he hastens towards him, "this is a place of fell illusion - but only those godly can sing holy prayer" as he approaches Robhan says a simple prayer spoken by many knights before they accept holy vows.
Great Haelyn, accept my heart this day
And make it always Thine,
That I from Thee never shall stray,
Nor from thy laws decline.
Anoint me with Thy heavenly grace,
Adopt me for Thine own,
That I may see Thy glorious face
And worship at Thy throne.
Let every thought and work and word
To Thee be ever given;
Then life shall be Thy service, Lord,
And death the gate of heaven.
He looks at the Patriarch, clearly awaiting his response as he comes closer.
The Patriarch, almost too weary to stand and feeling the darkness creep in at the edge of his sight due to loss of blood, merely smile before he rasps; "Atleast I know you are not the spawn of darkness... And you should know that the Dark cannot abide the touch of the Sun Sword, yet I hold it freely... or rather, lean on it, lest I ignobly fall to my knees."
Seeing that Robahn hesitates, he exasperates hoarsely; "By the Light of Avanalae, may your Grace ever return after the darkest Night, that we shall ever know your promise of life and renewal..." Rashid trails off and keels over, fainting from lack of blood.
-
The Patriarch, almost too weary to stand and feeling the darkness creep in at the edge of his sight due to loss of blood, merely smile before he rasps; "Atleast I know you are not the spawn of darkness... And you should know that the Dark cannot abide the touch of the Sun Sword, yet I hold it freely... or rather, lean on it, lest I ignobly fall to my knees."
Seeing that Robahn hesitates, he exasperates hoarsely; "By the Light of Avanalae, may your Grace ever return after the darkest Night, that we shall ever know your promise of life and renewal..." Rashid trails off and keels over, fainting from lack of blood.
Robhan dashed forward and caught the patriarch as he fell, calling on Haelyn's Grace he summoned the Paladin's gift of healing to close the worst of the Patriarch wounds, barely pausing Robhan called to Nesirie for her aid in keeping the Patriarch's soul bound within his body and prepared a lengthier prayer to bind torn muscle and vein...
-
Bjorn stays behind the High Marshal, guarding him while he performs the healing. He is ready to attack on sight in case any of the accursed creatures makes its appearance [OOC: Spot]. Once the High Marshal finishes his prayer, he says in a low voice:
"Good to see you again High Marshal. Were you by any chance attacked by any of these lifeless beasts?"
He waits for the High Marshal's response.
-
Between Gaerred Khaiarén and Naire Dhon there should be healing aplenty for all.
-
IC:
Seeing the Patriarch faint, Elamien hurries over to him and begins tending his wounds with any mundane means at her disposal, with a visible focus. Should any magical healing be proffered to her, she declines it. She is, after all, remarkably unscathed. . . .
-
You have all been reunited, and now the worst of your woulds have been healed and your spirits fortified. Of course, Elamien is unhurt, as are the two newcomers from the LPA. Maester Kaleiman is still in pretty bad shape;he can walk, but not quickly - and he CAN cast spells, but should avoid melee! The Patriarch, through his wounds still pain him, seems alert, almost eager.
OOC: In RoE we use a wound point/vitality system. Vitality recovers quickly (like hit points), but wounds take longer to heal (days or weeks - and magical healing only fixes 1 point/spell level or equivalent) and also cause penalties (to movement, Str, Dex, etc). Keep that in mind; those grievously injured will be feeling much better, but you're not exactly fresh. Your now-closed wounds still hurt, and will hamper you.
OOC2: Fatigue and fear is also a factor. Running around, fighting etc. causes fatigue that can be shed with rest. Lack of sleep, long periods of strenuous activity etc. require rest and nourishment to recover. Fear is also a potential problem that could easily accumulate in a place like this; Courage blood ab and paladin courage makes you effectively immune, but other PCs have to rely on blessings or their Will saves.
-
Looking at the assembled heroes, Rashid folds his hands before him and outlines the remaining objectives; "We have to assume the High Hierophant is in need of our help, in addition, we have yet to confront Adaliz, the Lady whom the other vapires referred to, they are one and the same.
You have each been able to discern a path to find one another, and this was most succesful after we each destroyed our foe..." At that Rashid's eyes roam the group, some wearing remarkably few signs of battle compared to others. He shifts his hands behinds his back as he continues, pacing slightly.
"I propose that we try this again, only this time, we seek out the most powerful evil in this place, the most dark corner emanating menace. - If Medhlorie has fallen, it is likely they have taken her there, and if she is fine, she will be striving to reach that place as well. And if she is not, ending this evil may provide her with the aid she needs to survive."
Stopping and facing the group he asks; "Do we agree?"
OOC: Assuming they do, Rashid uses his Detect Evil to try and find a path that will reveal Adaliz.
-
You start making your way through the great manor; though now it is not infinitely looping back on itself, its just big, dark, and gloomy.
Kaleiman marches on, using his staff as a crutch;
"Robhan here tells us that his opponent escaped after a fashion; turned into mist and floated away. As we learned before we came here, that particular vampire needs to rest through the following day - if there is such a thing here - before it can be of danger to us. The rest of us, it seems, have sent our opponents to a more final death...leaving only Adaliz and possibly Medhloire's assailant. And of course whatever other servants and horrors this place might hold."
You are ambushed as you make your way down the grand staircase and into the entrance hall; giant bats, wolves, and several vampire spawn. It is a tough fight, but now that you are united in purpose you vanquish your foes with few additional injuries.
Rashid leads you through the great double doors and outside; through the mist you can see an ancient mausoleum await on the other side of the courtyard. As you cross, you are attacked yet again; this time by more creatures of the night, but also by the vampires' human thralls and more vampire spawn. You are surrounded - and yet again fighting for your lives!
...but there IS some comfort to be found; they are actively trying to prevent you from reaching the mausoleum...which is a big change from them just toying with you. There is a sense of urgency - desperation perhaps...but in a few minutes that won't matter, because by then you'll all be overwhelmed and killed.
-
IC:
In the midst of the general mêlée, Elamien calls out to Kaleiman, "If you have one great spell left within you, then by all means employ it! I shall cover you as well as I might!" And she attempts to signal to Rashid to join her, as she moves to protect the wizard. . . .
-
IC:
In the midst of the general mêlée, Elamien calls out to Kaleiman, "If you have one great spell left within you, then by all means employ it! I shall cover you as well as I might!" And she attempts to signal to Rashid to join her, as she moves to protect the wizard. . . .
Rahid is already near the flank of Elamien and he deftly moves to block any attackers with the Sun Sword. He fights defensively, with wide swings or long thrusts he makes the area around him dangerous to enter, but does little to pursue and chop an enemy down if they disengage. "We have your back Maester, blast away!"
-
Kaleiman has a few trick left up his sleeve - probably save for any final encounter with Adaliz, but saving his spells is pointless tight now - fire and light for the most part, but also wards and protections that either keep the shadowspawn at bay or confuse them and make them fall upon each other.
It is only delaying the inevitable; there horde is only growing, and...wait! Suddenly there is great commotion in the rear of the enemy ranks, in the direction of the main gates - unnoticed by you all they have been thrown open, and a new force enters the scene.
You're not sure they are your firneds, but since they are attacking Adaliz' servants you don't much care. Its a strange and motley group; several huge worgs, a half-a-dozen ferocious werewolves, a handful of halflings wielding wicked spiked chains, shambling undead, and even a few sidhe warriors clad in archaic bronze armor! This is not onyl a place of dreams, but of legends and fairy-tales...
...be that as it may...the battle is joined, and through you are still outnumbered, you are no longer outclassed...
-
Jumping up on a treestump, Rashid raises the Sun Sword above his head and shouts over the battle; "Forward Allies of Life! - Destroy the Wicked!"
OOC: Using my Noble ability to inspire large groups of men.
He then jumps down, and leads a ferocious charge to try and break the enemy lines and make our newly increased numbers count.
Wielding the Sun Sword in both hands, fueling it with the Light of Avanalae (Smite Evil), he batters on the frontlines of the enemy. His leather jerkin has been slashed and pierced a few times, revealing the chainshirt beneath.
-
Bjorn is taken over by the battle. Desperation did not touch him when they were outnumbered, there was just some sort of urgency, a feeling that their time runs out. He thrust his claymore slashing through flesh too many times, and fatigue started to diminish his efficiency.
When the strange "allies" came, his hope was renewed, his fatigue lessened. His eyes shown with determination, and lust for battle. He held his left hand high, and following the Patriarch's lead, he screamed and charged at the first shadow creature he could target. His shirt was cut in numerous places, revealing a chain shirt armor with light blue hues. This battle was a challenge, a grand prize, and he wanted it more than anything right now. He would do anything to be standing in the end.
-
Naire stays close to Kalieman to ward him from melee, while Gaerred takes a more active role with the others, wielding magic, prayer and Spear.
-
Rashid on the right, Gaerred with his spear in the center, and Bjørn on the left, a fearsome trio with deadly intent.
Together they throw themselves at the enemy line, trying to break it up so the next rank can chop down the dazed foes that are overrun.
The Sun Sword carving glowing trails in the air, blood following every swing as the sharp blade cleaves worg hide or zombie heads.
The bold assault uses the enemies numbers against them, as they cannot all reach the front, those before being in the way of those behind, and the charge pressing the front back so they can't fight effectively.
While nicks and cuts accrue, the healing of the priests seem to be enough to tide this battle. It is only a question of time before the enemy must break or be cut down... Or does evil have more up their sleeve?
-
The enemy is halted, wavers, and then breaks. You new 'allies' pursue them with a vengeance, but you are too fatigued to give chase.
As you stand there, marveling at life, you see a shadowy figure watching you from the manor's roof. He gives a brief wave with his hand, like an old friend would, and then disappears out of view.
The way to the mausoleum is open for you, but have you the strength to continue?
-
Bjorn stands still for a moment, then finds a rock to rest even for a few seconds. He catches his breath, and says:
"That was interesting. Has anyone got any clue as to who that figure on the roof might be?"
His face is still sweating from the effort. However he is determined to move forward whenever the decision is taken.
-
IC:
Elamien stares at the roof for a time, as her heavy breathing abates. Hearing the words of Bjørn, she looks at him and replies, "I, for one, could not make out his face." Then, addressing the group as an whole, she states, "I believe that we should proceed into the mausoleum. We have come so far; and the High Hierophant may yet be alive: no matter the danger, no matter our fatigue, how can we turn away now?" . . .
-
"Indeed." Rashid confirms, with a grim smile he hefts his sword and starts towards the mausoleum.
"No time like the present."; he mutters to himself, appearantly filled with a grim determination to see this through. After all, staying here is not an option.
-
"Let us hope that the desperate horde was the last of her servants, and finish this now - left unharmed Adaliz will weave her web but the darker until there is no tearing it." Dropping his mangled shield Robhan cinches his armour and hefts his sword, battered but undaunted. "Lead on your grace, by Haelyn's Grace we will see victory - and freedom from this gloom - yet."
Patting Bjorn on the shoulder as he passed the High Marshal said "be wary my friend - our enemy is skilled at illusion, the High Hierophant is likely to appear far from friendly when we see her. But be of courage, this battle is surely almost done"
Marching on at the Patriarch's side Robhan kept silent of his true concern, the Patriarch had mentioned nothing of Adaliz fell into darkness, but Robhan doubted she had fallen so far without aid...
-
Bjorn rises reluctantly. The fatigue has not entirely left his body, but he appears once again ready to wreak havoc on the shadow spawn. He is certainly concerned about the figure on the roof. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot find any reason why someone might be helping them from inside the building, unless he is not helping them, but leading them on a trap.
"We have to keep our eyes open." he says, concern apparent on his face. "I do not like this, I do not like this at all" he thinks, but does not voice it. He tests his wrist, swinging the claymore absentmindedly, and once he is satisfied with his grip on the weapon, he looks intensely at the mausoleum. He starts moving towards the others, taking a good look of the surroundings.
[OOC: Takes Move Silently and Hide in Shadows checks, however he does not wish to be left behind. Apply whatever penalty might seem reasonable. He also tries to Spot anything unusual ahead of them.]
[edit: a few typos]
-
"Nor do I Bjorn, nor do I - but we must move with haste before any more denizens of this realm come along - the next bunch may not be frie," Robhan pauses, "be enemies of our enemies..."
-
"There is no other path but forward," Gaerred says. Naire looks to Gaerred, "Death goes there, Hierophant. Death and Darkness."
-
OOC: I'm assuming that the Osoerde post, was, in fact, an LPA post.
After a brief rest to regain your breath and quench your thirst - you find fresh enough water outside - you press on.
You enter the mausoleum - somehow you're not overly surprised when a stair lead down into the dark, connecting to a vast underground labyrinth of chambers and corridors....
There are a few enemies left, but they are not numerous, nor well coordinated. You deal with them as they appear, and fear them not.
You are drawn forward by a malevolent presence, and cannot fail to find their lair of the beast...a large vaulted chamber, containing seven stone sarcophagi; only one of them is closed.
Adaliz is there, as is one other vampire, presumably the one who fought the High Hierophant...and Medhlorie.
Now is a good time to come up with cunning plans and/or exchange words with the enemy...
-
IC:
"You know why I am come, Ariadne", says Elamien, taking a couple of steps forward from her companions and possibly drawing some level of focus away from them. "In fact, you probably know why each of us is come: to see that hideous head removed from the cold corpse, which you style your body. My very skin crawls with the thought of touching your unholy frame; yet I will revel in such contact, if it will mean the end of you and all, that you represent. . . . If your master be in yonder coffin, then I suggest that you wake him: for you can not hope to escape your approaching demise, alone. . . ." Elamien seems to have a certain presence, as she speaks, although its effect upon the vampires may well be nonexistent. . . .
-
The Patriarch steps to the front, brandishing the Sun Sword before him. He does not attack however, but speaks to Adaliz; "Repent now sister, and there may be hope for your immortal soul. Tell us what you know of Manethander.
Did you go to him? - Or did he corrupt you?
Did you try to end him?"
He moves to the right of Elamien, the vampires will have to be open to a flank attack if they face either.
-
"There is no other path but forward," Gaerred says. Naire looks to Gaerred, "Death goes there, Hierophant. Death and Darkness."
OOC: Used Harvey's computer to checks posts while mine was doing some updating.virus checking...should have logged him out...
-
OOC: I have an idea.
Gaerred, is probably currently the most powerful, full-cleric left. What if all who were capable used 'aid another' with Gaerred, while he used Turn Undead and the Sun Domain? Naire, Robhan, and the Patriarch could all aid a +2 to the Turn Attempt. Naire can used Eagle's Splendor on Gaerred to increase his CHA?? It have an effect (and at least makes for a good story?)
-
OOC: I have an idea.
Gaerred, is probably currently the most powerful, full-cleric left. What if all who were capable used 'aid another' with Gaerred, while he used Turn Undead and the Sun Domain? Naire, Robhan, and the Patriarch could all aid a +2 to the Turn Attempt. Naire can used Eagle's Splendor on Gaerred to increase his CHA?? It have an effect (and at least makes for a good story?)
A very nice idea.
-
Rashid, still awaiting some kind of reply of even a hostile hiss from Adaliz, moves one hand behind his back, giving three fingers as the count for the previously prepared agreement to mass-turn undead with Gaerrad as the focus.
Rashid taking the right flank, Gaerrad in the middle protected by Elamien, the High Marshal on the left.
Naire in the rear. Like rays from the Sun centered on Gaerrad; is Rashid, Robahn and Naire.
Leaving Bjorn to protect Maester Kaleiman when he unleash any final spells he may have prepared.
When there is no reply from Adaliz, Rashid reduces to two fingers...
-
OOC. Anyone else before the final conversation/clash?
-
[OOC: I hope I made it in time. I am currently away from home...]
Bjorn says in a booming voice:
"I on the other hand am not here for revenge, or salvation or anything noble. I am here because I consider you and your kind a challenge I have to face", he smirks, and continues:
"I hope you corpses will provide me with the entertainment I expect", he says and laughs. He tries to avert the vampires' attention from the spellcasters, and turn it on him. In addition he tries to focus on the battle ahead, his senses entering the special state of complete awareness only a veteran can approach. His laugh has now vanished, an inviting and challenging grin taking its place.
[OOC: If the battle begins, Bjorn tries to enter a battlefrenzy - berserk state - and use his blood ability. I hope I will be able to post once again before events get out of hand :)]
-
Reduce to 1 finger. Action imminent.
-
OOC: OK, time to conclude.
Adaliz:
"You fools! You are like chaff on the wind to me; you have wasted what little strength you have on my followers, and now as shall relish in your destruction...but perhaps, if you should prove resourceful, I might pick one or more of you to serve me, you have, after all, destroyed four of my servants. It would not do to present the Patriarch's head to my Master without my coterie at full strength!"
And with that the battle is joined - but not like Adaliz has planned it. The power of the sun goddess flows through you all, gathering in strength, even in this dark place, before being unleashed. Divine blessings and divine blood joins with the arcane mutterings of the College's premier evocation specialist, conjuring forth a fiery radiance to scour away the shadows...
The thing that was Medhloire is the first to go, her undead flesh still weak after her transformation; shrieking she catches fire and burns brightly for a moment before bursting apart.
But vampires, though they are vulnerable to light and fire, are also notoriously resistant to the channeling of priests. Adaliz other aide, though clearly in pain from burns and light-blindness charges forward across the sarcophagi, barreling into Bjorn as he too charges.
Adaliz seems completely unharmed, shielded by a dark halo of power. Then she unleashed her arcane powers, hurling a ball of crackling energy at the grouped priests, hurling them to the ground and stunning them.
-
IC:
Elamien has very little time to think as she sees this ball of energy streak past her, toward the priests at her back. She begins to brace herself, just as she feels a great force strike her from behind, as the fell magic bursts amongst her companions. Stumbling forward, she manages to keep herself from falling completely on her face; and, on one knee, she quickly surveys the scene, bringing her gaze, at last, upon Ariadne. "I have no tricks, old friend. But I will not relent." So does she speak, as she rises to her feet, to close, if she must, with her foe. . . .
-
As the priests struggle to regain their composure - the wizard doesn't he remains down - Bjorn and the vampire battle it out. Had the vampire had more time, it might have worn the Rjurik out, but seeing as it is trying to get to the priests, the warrior is able to hold his own. Unfortunately his sword does not seem to injure this particular bitch very much - she shrugs of his sword-blows like a duck does rain.
Adaliz continue to lash out with mystic force, sending the LPA priestess, who places herself in harms way to protect the Patriarch, into unconsciousness and possible death, before Elamien can engage her...
...as the guild-mistress bears down on the vampiress, she is met by mocking laughter; but then something happens - the particulars are obscured by shadows and moving bodies - and Adaliz laughter is cut short, to be replaced by an outraged scream, such as only a trueborn noble can utter...
...then Elamien plunges her sword thought the chest of your nemesis, piercing her heart as you have been instructed, but failing to realize that this particular vampire is still a scion - apparently vampires do retain their divine blood, even in undeath - releasing her birthright to race down her blade as purple flames to join with her own spark of divinity.
Stunned silence...those of you still unengaged and conscious think you glimpse a dark shape quietly disappearing, from behind where once-Adaliz stood...your 'ally' again?
Bjørn is finally brought down, with the vampiress latched to his neck, drinking his life-blood whilst she tears at his mail with her clawed hands. Then this vampire too finds final death as one angry Patriarch and two Priests shove their holy blades into her body.
Silence. Utter silence. Save your own ragged breaths, and the soft moans of the injured...only Elamien seems (comparatively) unhurt...
-
Moving to the fallen Maester Kaleiman, Rashid calls for aid; "Help here, he is gravely wounded." And then tries to assist by mundane means...
When there is no more to do, either way, he looks to Elamien. "What was this about? - You called my sister Adaliz for Ariadne and seemed familiar with her under that name.
And are you alright? - That energy looked somewhat ominious..."
OOC: And my former post got slain by the wicked GM. :) - Its ok, it was just combat fluff.
-
OOC: Sorry :'(
-
Moving to the fallen Maester Kaleiman, Rashid calls for aid; "Help here, he is gravely wounded." And then tries to assist by mundane means...
When there is no more to do, either way, he looks to Elamien. "What was this about? - You called my sister Adaliz for Ariadne and seemed familiar with her under that name.
And are you alright? - That energy looked somewhat ominious..."
IC:
"I believe that I am all right", replies Elamien, looking at the battered man, who addressed her. "At one time, your sister was a close friend of mine, and I would refer to her by that other name: there is really not much more, that I can add. . . ." She seems to be considering some thing, if her slightly squinting and slightly shifting eyes are any indication, whilst she returns the gaze of Rashid. Then she asks, "Do you think that we should open the seventh sarcophagus?" . . .
-
The High Marshal, hastens to the side of the wizard, and after checking that Bjorn is safe, releases the last of his healing magic into the old man. Moving over to Bjorn Robhan staunched the warriors wounds with bandages, "you fought well Bjorn, the Mhor will hear of your valour."
His face grave the High Marshal walked over to where Medlorhie had been consumed by the light of the Gods, "ash, from which some say all came, to which in time all return" he whispered, a grim end for a valiant soul, "may redemption have been granted through the grace of those above".
"Naire is it not? We met a few summers back I recall. I leave your mistresses ashes in your care, purified by holy fire they are no threat, and the high Hierophant's long service merits respect."
Robhan then looks carefully at the sarcophagi, "these should be cleansed" he mutters, staring keenly at the closed sarcophagi and fingering his blade...
-
"Wait!" Rashid turns to Robhan. "If this sarcophagi contains... Hmm... It probably will not though..."
Waving a hand to dismiss his thought, he continues; "We are here, so we must. - Be careful though."
His eyes go back to Elamien. "Are you sure you are alright? - You seem a little shaken. How did you know Ariadne?"
With one hand the Patriarch smoothes his hair, takes a deep breath and seems to finally relax a little. The combat high leaving him, to feel all the cuts and scrapes of the night.
Almost as an afterthought, he leans so he can see past Elamian and focus his Detect Evil on the sarcophagus, trying to get a clue if its empty or holding an undead monster.
-
The High Marshal, hastens to the side of the wizard, and after checking that Bjorn is safe, releases the last of his healing magic into the old man. Moving over to Bjorn Robhan staunched the warriors wounds with bandages, "you fought well Bjorn, the Mhor will hear of your valour."
Bjorn is barely able to respond. The battle has taken its toll on him. Sweat mixed with blood still runs on his face and through his numerous cuts, but the bleeding has actually stopped. His face is ashen, his eyes barely able to keep focus on the surroundings. He breaths heavily, not able to stand on his feet yet.
After a few moments, he appears to have gained much of his strength. He leans on his claymore, and tries to stand on his feet. He barely is able to whisper:
"Thank you High Marshal. The Mhor already knows my valor. I did not do this for anyone but me. Somehow I feel I needed it". A faint smile forms on his face.
[Edit: "to have" instead of "that he has". Sounds better ;)]
-
The last sarcophagus contains the vampire Robhan chased away; resting to regain its strength. Its rather helpless at the moment.
-
Kaleiman (who looks like he'll never consider going on an adventure again!):
"We must question the last spawn before destroying it. I cannot say I believe it will tell anything truthful, but we must try.
Then we must gather ourselves and find the path back to the Daylight; we are spent and need to recover."
-
Rashid, not getting any answer from Elamien, steps up beside the High Marshal at the coffin. "You! - What is your name?"
If the vampire is reluctant to answer, he will use the Sun Sword to prod it. If required, cutting off pieces starting from the feet and arms and getting closer to the body.
"What was the plan in Ansien?"
"Where is your Master?"
"Is Manethander moving? - Has he left the tomb?"
"Is there anything that can desroy him?"
"Tell me everything you scum! - The pain will only end in Oblivion at My Mercy!"
<chop> <chop> <hack> <sizzle>
-
The vampire, already greatly weakened, cannot stand the touch of the sword and with an inhuman shriek HE catches fire and is consumed by flames.
Now what? How do you get back? Or do you have some other plan perhaps?
-
Robhan frowns, "our enemy is done - but so nearly are we. I suggest that since we appeared back in the great hall, we return there - perhaps with the destruction of these demons some way home will be apparent."
"What say you Master Kaleiman? Do you know of any route back to the land of the living?"
Moving to support Bjorn as he sways, the High Marshal prays for guidance and waits for his companions to respond.
-
You've learned a lot about vampires now; some of it from research, some of it from hard-earned experience. Of course, this is not something you can be absolutely sure about, it's not like you have a Monster Manual or something to refer to ;)
First of all, Cerilian vampires are not all the same; it would seem they have some common characteristics, but some have powers that others do not. And the same goes for weaknesses.
General
- vampires retain the abilities they had in life; Adaliz was a sorceress, and could utilize those powers in undeath.
- scions that become vampires seem to retain their bloodlines; once again Adaliz is your reference.
- vampires are outwardly identical to humans; it is VERY difficult to spot them, although detect shadowtaint (detect evil) WILL work.
Other powers
- vampires are much stronger, tougher and faster than they ever were in life
- vampire can jump pretty far, and walk on roofs and walls as easily as on the ground
- vampires can change shape; or so you've heard, into wolves and such, but you've yet to see this happen.
- vampires can assume the form of mist and fly in this form; Robhan's opponent did this when he was on the verge of defeat
- at least some vampires can suck the life ut of the living with only a touch.
- all vampires can/must drink blood to sustain them
Resistances
- vampires seem almost immune to physical damage, and if hurt at all they recover with incredible speed.
- magic weapons and/or silver seem to have some effect, but exactly how much you're unsure - Bjorn has a magic sword, and he's been hacking away at the vampires, doing some damage, but not very much.
Weaknesses
- vampires CAN be turned or destroyed through divine channeling, but are very resistant to it (even the efforts of a group of powerful clerics, lead by a Sun priestess, only destroyed Medhlorie - the weakest vampire)
- vampires are hurt by fire; torches, burning oil, flaming swords, magic spells; they all harm them
- vampires are hurt by sunlight; but how much seems to vary from vampire to vampire, but haven't a lot of data to support this theory. In any even only true sunlight burns them enough to cause damage, but bright light can blind or nauseate them.
- staking a vampire (through the heart) doesn't seem to kill it (although Adaliz DID die), only immobilize it. And as Bjorn can testify to; wood probably works, but cold Rjurik steel is just as good ;D
- decapitating a vampire (not easy unless its been staked) kills it; as does hacking it to pieces or otherwise inflicting truly massive physical trauma - but then again this would kill almost everything :)
'Reproduction'
- vampires can create other vampires; you have seen it happen. Medhloire got turned into a vampire (or so you think).
- vampires can create lesser spawn; these creatures have many of the same characteristics that vampires heavy, but are weaker and cannot create new undead.
'Servants'
- vampires can dominate the weak-willed; creating servants enslaved to their will
- vampires an summon aid from the 'creatures of darkness'; so far this has been fiendish worgs, giant bats, or dire rats.
I'll add more as I have time.
-
Robhan frowns, "our enemy is done - but so nearly are we. I suggest that since we appeared back in the great hall, we return there - perhaps with the destruction of these demons some way home will be apparent."
"What say you Master Kaleiman? Do you know of any route back to the land of the living?"
Moving to support Bjorn as he sways, the High Marshal prays for guidance and waits for his companions to respond.
"Through sleep we came here, through sleep we must return."
-
"I call council in the morning, let us meet and discuss what we achieved and learned. I know some of you may have questions to me as well. Regarding the root of this.
In addition, we had allies this night, the one on the roof, the many interlopers, other intervention here and there... I want to know all you can tell me on these topics. Any theory, no matter how absurd.
Also, the loss of the High Hierophant is a hard blow to the temples, but no less to Elinie and myself... she will be missed."
He then follows the others back to the great hall, and presumably from there each to their bedroom.
-
Robhan frowned, to sleep in so dark a place - to lie so vulnerable with darkness about? :-\
As the others return to their rooms the High Marshal stands watch in the great hall while the companions sought to sleep, lest some lingering foe creep out to slay them 'ere they depart.
Laying out poor Geran before him, Robhan prayed for the touch of darkness to leave the lad's soul, and strove to keep his weary eyes open long enough for the companions to fall into slumber - and hopefully awake in the world of daylight.
-
From the ashes of Medlorhie, sactified by the power of the Goddess, which casts away the Veil of Shadows, wispy clouds of light slowly rise;all are bathed is soft daylight. The light grows stronger yet, a column reaching towards the heavens from which the presence of Avanlae can be felt even by the most ardant unbeliever – the light is comfortably blinding.
The wispy clouds coalesce into a form of light; first, it is featureless, and but eventually it bears the features of High Hierophant Medlorhie Haesen. She steps from the column, her hands cupped before her, a growing sphere of light held in her hands.
Her soft voice is heard:
”Avani is great.
Avani is great.
I bear witness that She is the Light.
I bear witness that She is the Light.
I bear witness that the Light of Avani is Messanger of Avani.
I bear witness that the Light of Avani is Messanger of Avani.
Make haste to worship and serve the light
Make haste to worship and serve the light
Avani is great.
Avani is great.
I bear witness that She is the Light.
I bear witness that She is the Light.
Blessed be the All-Father. Blessed be the Name, Haelyn.
Blessed be the All-Mother. Blessed be Her Divine Mercy.
Blessed be the fruit of their union, Cuiraecen.
Blessed be the Lady of Light. Blessed be Her Eternal Light."
She is wholly dressed in the white robes of the Sudawarhi. She says coming to stand before Gaerred and the other assembled. She speaks to Gaerred:
”Gaerred, the Shadow is mighty in Elinie. The Shadow is resilient and resourceful in Elinie. You must be strong and vigilant. You must not falter, Hierophant. Never underestimate it, Gaerred, Never—Not Even for a Moment. Underestimate. It.”
She looks him squarely, but her face softens with a smile.
”But all is not lost though the way forward may not be clear. For there are no new things beneath the Sun, Gaerred, but manys things that have long been forgotten. Find the forgotten things and find your path.”
She smiles slightly and looks to the assembled and speaks again:
”The Lady is with you all. The Lady shall be with you.”
She looks back to Gaerred.
”Though I walk through the Valleys of the Shadow.”
It is a stock prayer from the Life and Protection of Avanlae, to which all the Elinien (and likely the Holy Order) knows from infancy.
”I shall fear no ill,” is given in response.
Medlorhie speaks again:
”For She is with me.”
”Her countenance protects and guides me.”
”Blessed be Her Name Amongst Names.”
”Blessed Be Her Eternal Light.”
Medlorhie nods at each response ever so slightly.
”And as I was the Light of Avani.”
In this instant, Naire shallowly gasps – Gaerred utterly stops speaking. Neither Naire or Gaerred speaks for a moment, before Naire slightly bumps Gaerred, who with a sudden breath speaks.
”So shall I be,” He says.
Medlorhie continues.
”Faithfully carry forth the light and illuminate the way of the Lady.
Go in Peace and serve the gods.”
Medlorhie touches Gaerred and begins to step backward towards the column.
Then, she is gone.
As the room attempts to process the entire event, Naire collapses to her knees and grasps the hand of Gaerred placing it upon her face.
”High Hierophant,” she says ever so quietly.
-----------------------------------------------------
And so it came to pass in the One thousand five hundred and thirty-fifth year of Haelyn’s Divine Ascension, after the fateful Sword and Crown, that the regency of the Life and Protection of Avanlae passed to Gaerred Khaiarén, Hierophant of the Life and Protection of Avanlae, after the High Hierophant Medlorhie Haesen fell in battle against the Shadow.
Blessed be the Haelyn!
Blessed Be Avanlae!
-
"Blessed are we by the messengers of the gods amongst us" echoes Robhan, the traditional response to a holy vision.
Turning to Gaerred he bows formally, one Cardinal to another, and says "Congratulations High Hierophant, you have been chosen by the gods, let all bow head and sing your praise, for you are thus proven worthy."
Robhan grins, suddenly informal. "Indeed congratulations nephew, the Khaiarén family have become a full house as Maevous would say!
-
OOC/IC:
The Five KHAIARÉN brothers:
Maevous Khaiarén (1480 HC) - Baron of Rivien (Assumed regency 1510 HC)
Married, but no living children (his two sons and one daughter all died before the age of 10).
Blaede Khaiarén (1483 HC) - Baron of Soileite (Assumed regency 1520 HC)
Aeric Khaiarén (1501 HC) - His 1st son and heir
Gaerred Khaiarên (1503 HC) - His 2nd son, Hierophant of the LPA
Marcous (1507 HC) - His 3rd son, See below
Saender Khaiarén (1485 HC) - Blademaster of the HTC (Assumed regency 1534 HC)
No children
Torebhan Khaiarén (1490 HC) - Marquis of Quatil, formerly Count of Sunken Lands (Assumed later regency 1533 HC)
Wife died; no children, woved not to re-marry
Marcous Khaiarén (1510 HC) - Marquis of Quatil, 2nd son of Blaede, Torebhan's nephew
Robhan Khaiarén (1492 HC) - High marshal of the HA (Assumed regency 1530 HC)
No children
NOTE: Gaerred has the wrong birth year in the LPA secrets doc; it carried over from RoEI, but conceptually Gaerred was kept as the young-and-eager lieutenant, so he should have been made somewhat younger.
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OOC: Yey for the one family in RoE that is composed of siblings/relatives who... gasp... genuinely like each other ;D
Edit: Sorry, didn't realize this was the IC thread :(
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Bjorn stands enthralled by the scene. He bows at the phantom of the former High Hierophant, appreciating the uniqueness of the moment. Once the transfer of the title is complete, Bjorn approaches Gaerred and says:
"Medlorhie's death was meaningful. Be proud of her. Do not mourn her."
He sheaths his claymore and waits for others to fall asleep. Then he will try to close his eyes and dream his way away from this cursed place. Death is a part of the everyday life of Thultrakka, Bjorn came to accept it long ago.
[Edit: "mourn her", instead of "mourn for her"]
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You wake up the next morning - in your own beds; it is as if it was all a bad dream; only you carry the wounds and such of each and every encounter. Of the High Hierophant there is no sign; the servants tell that they found only ash in her bed.
More than a week has passed under the sun since first you fell under the dream-spell, and you are mightily hungry and thirsty. After a great feast you are able to continue pondering the future (i.e. next turn).
You have solved the Vampire crisis in Ansien - for now - but the greater threat still awaits.
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Putting it here as the adventure has ended. DM Jon: This does not belong in the OoC section, but with the adventure.
The Patriach gives heartfelt thanks to all the participants of the adventure.
He is very distressed by the death of Medhlorie Haensen, but the vision from the gods has him asking if there are plans to Sanctify the former High Hierophant, and if so, then he will have a Chapel raised in her name and honor in Ansien.
Bjorn is commended on his valor, and asked to bring a letter praising his abilities back to the Mhor, with great thanks for the assistance.
Rashid tells the adventurers the story of Manethander, how he corrupted his bloodline and was locked away when Rashid's forefather came to Elinie and brought the regime to a halt.