Post by K Man on Nov 18, 2004 11:44:09 GMT -5
Callian and Newt - Allessia seemed slightly shocked as the Earth folds up around you like a dirt blanket. The rocks and ore of the lands scream by at the no-longer alarming, but still impressive rate. As you feel yourself finding the vein leading to where you left from, you both hear a gutteral growl, like the Earth shifting in a localized spot. A bump under the Earth, a pair of glittering blue gems...and then nothing.
You arise, spitting the dirt taste out of your mouth, to find Cannon's Foot in chaos.
Soldiers line the walls with weapons, firing arrows and bolts into the fog beyond. Delomme shouts orders, your companions are scattered and all seem to have different agendas.
What has happened here?
[I'll roll initiative for you both next round due to confusion.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Krysta, Girud and Galdren - The Elves do little, barely flinching at the commands and insults tossed their way. They look back to the watchtower where the remnants of their tribe are quickly weaving magic spells.
One of the scouts lowers his voice, indicating it is only for the three of you to hear. He manages to catch your attention before you spring away to the walls or whatever fate has in store for you.
"Teleporting is not the only way out of here. The mages are always two-steps ahead of anything else. There is flight - there are changes that can take place magically...escape is possible and the shard is safe for now. I have faith they would not do this without a plan for success."
"This offer is extended but once...to all of you. This is war, people will die. You cannot save them all, but you can prevent the death of millions more by obtaining these shards anyway possible."
"Come with us...live to fight another day...you think your companions will watch you die as they can leave anytime they want? When this battle goes sour, and it will, they will leave you behind...it's time to be proactive."
The remainder of the Elven Elite and the other scout go trotting off towards the watchtower, side-stepping any in their way.
This scout awaits your response, his face truthful to his belief - you will not survive this attack...
Looking to the watchtower, you see the mages working their magic. One of the Elite transforms - his body covering in feathers and his arms extending into huge, massive wings. His nose elongates into a beak and when he's done, he appears to have become a bird of enormous proportions. He grasps two of the lighter warriors and takes to the sky, flapping away from this battle.
The other mage does the same to another warrior, transforming him into a gargantuan bird. The hawk grabs another two warriors from the platform and takes to the skies behind his companion.
You have a choice to make...certain death...or certain survival.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caelith, Angelus, Garor, Hero - Caelith reacts first, his body tensed with the premonition of battle. He pulls out a scroll, unfurling it and speaks arcane words that take shape before him as a blast of air. [Wind Wall, we'll say 7th level.] The fog is blown away at the first portion of the wind, revealing what lies beneath.
Trolls, countless trolls. Each one leers, suddenly losing its veil of fog and mist. They are lanky and tall, most carrying some comically over-sized maul or axe. A few of them jingle with pouches and trinkets betraying their shamanistic of sorcerous abilities. Eventhough only a small portion of the SlaughterFog was blown away, it is dense with warriors.
You shudder to think what lies in the hundred foot deep ring of fog surrounding the city...
Garor throws a spell at one mage atop the tower, trying to slow down any more spells. [Hold Person, Will Save success] The spell has little effect and he charges down the hill towards the Watchtower.
Hero takes to the walls, withdrawing her crossbow. She looks out first over the troll warriors and then beyond to the thick fog that envelops the remainder of the surrounding area.
This will be a hard battle...
Atop the watchtower, you can see the mages transforming Elven warriors into giant birds that carry others from the platform, fleeing this battle to fight another day.
Then, the trolls in the SlaughterFog surge forward. They pound the doors with massive metal mauls, driving dents into the wood and metal gate, sending pieces of it scattering inside. They even pound the walls of the city with such force that it shakes beneath your feet.
You get the feeling that it will not hold long to such a beating...
The Shamans then raise their hands, utter a few words above the chaos and unleash hell upon the walls. Balls of fire, dozens of feet in diameter, erupt in seconds, burning all atop the walls. [Fireball(s) Ref Saves. Hero, Success. The Soldiers atop the Wall, Failure. Girud and Galdren (Should you choose to not take the offer) Both Successes. Damage = 20 (Half=10)] Most of the soldiers atop the wall are scattered like leaves in a fire. Some fall forward, out of the city and into the fog, others are cast, screaming and burning to the roofs of houses within. Those that aren't are left burning, their weapons aflame and their bodies smoking.
Delomme screams, then his face goes flush.
"Fortress-Breaker! I cannot let it fall into 'The Masters' hands..."
He takes off running towards the center of the city.
Battle and chaos...synonymous terms...
[Updated Initiative: The Elite on the Tower, Caelith and Newt, Girud and Galdren, Garor and Angelus, Hero and Krysta, The mages, Callian, The SlaughterFog, Delomme and The Soldiers of the City (There were alot of same numbers rolled...)}
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yuri and Romar - As you expect, King Grandil rounds the corner, axe in hand and a broad grin across his face. He smiles and crosses the distance to you both, kicking the Illithid at your feet with a heavy boot.
"Ye did it laddies! Bazarkrak and every Dwarf here owes ye a good stiff ale!"
The King gives you both uncomfortably powerful hugs, dropping his axe to the ground.
"It appears that whatever caused our dark brothers to fight us was powered by this..." He gives the bloodied body at his feet another stiff kick. "Now that he's dead, we can re-light the forges and get back to work."
"Our first order of business, a fine steed for ye both."
The King looks around, still broadly grinning. He notices the Illithid's rummaging and rubs his chin. He walks over to the table beyond and picks up a few things, mulling them over. You can hear him speak as though seeking your input.
"By Moradin's beard...what did it want? It rummaged through some financial papers pertaining to the building of Karn's floating castle, but these are ancient ledgers, nothing more."
"Did ye two see what it was looking for?"
__________________________________________________________________________________________
You arise, spitting the dirt taste out of your mouth, to find Cannon's Foot in chaos.
Soldiers line the walls with weapons, firing arrows and bolts into the fog beyond. Delomme shouts orders, your companions are scattered and all seem to have different agendas.
What has happened here?
[I'll roll initiative for you both next round due to confusion.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Krysta, Girud and Galdren - The Elves do little, barely flinching at the commands and insults tossed their way. They look back to the watchtower where the remnants of their tribe are quickly weaving magic spells.
One of the scouts lowers his voice, indicating it is only for the three of you to hear. He manages to catch your attention before you spring away to the walls or whatever fate has in store for you.
"Teleporting is not the only way out of here. The mages are always two-steps ahead of anything else. There is flight - there are changes that can take place magically...escape is possible and the shard is safe for now. I have faith they would not do this without a plan for success."
"This offer is extended but once...to all of you. This is war, people will die. You cannot save them all, but you can prevent the death of millions more by obtaining these shards anyway possible."
"Come with us...live to fight another day...you think your companions will watch you die as they can leave anytime they want? When this battle goes sour, and it will, they will leave you behind...it's time to be proactive."
The remainder of the Elven Elite and the other scout go trotting off towards the watchtower, side-stepping any in their way.
This scout awaits your response, his face truthful to his belief - you will not survive this attack...
Looking to the watchtower, you see the mages working their magic. One of the Elite transforms - his body covering in feathers and his arms extending into huge, massive wings. His nose elongates into a beak and when he's done, he appears to have become a bird of enormous proportions. He grasps two of the lighter warriors and takes to the sky, flapping away from this battle.
The other mage does the same to another warrior, transforming him into a gargantuan bird. The hawk grabs another two warriors from the platform and takes to the skies behind his companion.
You have a choice to make...certain death...or certain survival.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caelith, Angelus, Garor, Hero - Caelith reacts first, his body tensed with the premonition of battle. He pulls out a scroll, unfurling it and speaks arcane words that take shape before him as a blast of air. [Wind Wall, we'll say 7th level.] The fog is blown away at the first portion of the wind, revealing what lies beneath.
Trolls, countless trolls. Each one leers, suddenly losing its veil of fog and mist. They are lanky and tall, most carrying some comically over-sized maul or axe. A few of them jingle with pouches and trinkets betraying their shamanistic of sorcerous abilities. Eventhough only a small portion of the SlaughterFog was blown away, it is dense with warriors.
You shudder to think what lies in the hundred foot deep ring of fog surrounding the city...
Garor throws a spell at one mage atop the tower, trying to slow down any more spells. [Hold Person, Will Save success] The spell has little effect and he charges down the hill towards the Watchtower.
Hero takes to the walls, withdrawing her crossbow. She looks out first over the troll warriors and then beyond to the thick fog that envelops the remainder of the surrounding area.
This will be a hard battle...
Atop the watchtower, you can see the mages transforming Elven warriors into giant birds that carry others from the platform, fleeing this battle to fight another day.
Then, the trolls in the SlaughterFog surge forward. They pound the doors with massive metal mauls, driving dents into the wood and metal gate, sending pieces of it scattering inside. They even pound the walls of the city with such force that it shakes beneath your feet.
You get the feeling that it will not hold long to such a beating...
The Shamans then raise their hands, utter a few words above the chaos and unleash hell upon the walls. Balls of fire, dozens of feet in diameter, erupt in seconds, burning all atop the walls. [Fireball(s) Ref Saves. Hero, Success. The Soldiers atop the Wall, Failure. Girud and Galdren (Should you choose to not take the offer) Both Successes. Damage = 20 (Half=10)] Most of the soldiers atop the wall are scattered like leaves in a fire. Some fall forward, out of the city and into the fog, others are cast, screaming and burning to the roofs of houses within. Those that aren't are left burning, their weapons aflame and their bodies smoking.
Delomme screams, then his face goes flush.
"Fortress-Breaker! I cannot let it fall into 'The Masters' hands..."
He takes off running towards the center of the city.
Battle and chaos...synonymous terms...
[Updated Initiative: The Elite on the Tower, Caelith and Newt, Girud and Galdren, Garor and Angelus, Hero and Krysta, The mages, Callian, The SlaughterFog, Delomme and The Soldiers of the City (There were alot of same numbers rolled...)}
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yuri and Romar - As you expect, King Grandil rounds the corner, axe in hand and a broad grin across his face. He smiles and crosses the distance to you both, kicking the Illithid at your feet with a heavy boot.
"Ye did it laddies! Bazarkrak and every Dwarf here owes ye a good stiff ale!"
The King gives you both uncomfortably powerful hugs, dropping his axe to the ground.
"It appears that whatever caused our dark brothers to fight us was powered by this..." He gives the bloodied body at his feet another stiff kick. "Now that he's dead, we can re-light the forges and get back to work."
"Our first order of business, a fine steed for ye both."
The King looks around, still broadly grinning. He notices the Illithid's rummaging and rubs his chin. He walks over to the table beyond and picks up a few things, mulling them over. You can hear him speak as though seeking your input.
"By Moradin's beard...what did it want? It rummaged through some financial papers pertaining to the building of Karn's floating castle, but these are ancient ledgers, nothing more."
"Did ye two see what it was looking for?"
__________________________________________________________________________________________
And the horde of trolls is invincible. Even my attempts at being in a position to prevent the casting, and discussing such, were for not. Not even Krysta's talking to the elves, or trying to convince them otherwise, or even having readied actiosn to keep an eye out for them help.
