4 - 070: The Fourth Piece

[K Man]

And Kman, if I'm being stupid forgive me, but shouldn't the Master have 130/150 left on stoneskin and only 134/153 actual life left? And, doesn't the Master also have to make a concentration check to make sure he doesn't lose the spell that he's casting? I mean, not that it isn't easy for him to make a DC 18 concentration check, but...

{Entirely right on all accounts Jevva, thanks for keeping me honest. HP updated and Concentration Check = 33 Vs. DC 29, Success}

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Romar, Irris and Tineniel -

Telena notes Romar as the riders mount up the wagon and hitch up the mounts. She continues to cast furtive glances over her shoulder to the invading enemies, praying that this act is not noticed. She sighs heavily.



"Romar...Tineniel is right. Though defeat seems inevitable, we cannot slip quietly into the night. We have determination, we have the will to survive, and above all, we have hope. That is more than I need to raise a sword. If I take down but one of these bastards I would feel as though I've done right."

She narrows her eyes, glaring at Romar with fire in her eyes.

"Why don't you call upon Fahrlanghn to bless you with courage along with your water."

She sees the riders are fully mounted and ready to go, and she nods to Irris and Tineniel. She turns her back to the enemy and shouts into the night so that she can be heard above the chaos.



"FIGHTERS! To the canyon walls! CITIZENS! Follow and remain safely behind!"[/b]

She leaps to the wagon sides and slaps the mounts with the flat of her blade.

"HEEYAH!"

With that...the wagon rips through the sand and takes off to the West.

[Romar, you can try to stop them or wait were you are. Irris, Tineniel - What are you doing? There are mounts, you can reach them within a round by hanging on the side of the wagon and dropping off at the good point.]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

All those in the fortress -

Galdren takes a step, bringing his blades twirling around and into the skeletal form of 'The Master'. [Attack Rolls = 14/24, Nat. 20 (no Crits)] The latter two attacks land, rattling the skeleon within the armor. [Damage Rolls = 8 + 4 Fire, 8] The damage is neglible.

Krysta moves to the East, drawing her weapons.

Yuri focuses, blasting 'The Master' with a beam of super cold. [Ranged Touch Attack = 19] The cold beam goes straight into the blackened armor, freezing it. [As a lich, 'The Master' is Immune Cold] The bolt seems to do nothing...

Alton moves and looses an arrow. [Attack Roll = 26, Damage Roll = 12] Though it does little, bone chips do scatter from the skeleton.

'The Master', fueled with the rage of a battle closing in on him. focuses on casting his next spell. [Concentration Check Vs. DC to avoid AoO's = 23, Concentration Check Vs. DC 12 for real damage done this round = 18] 'The Master is able to weave and conjure, gesturing. In a blink of an eye, he moves, leaving behind nothing. You look around, trying to spot him. [Dimension Door]

He's moved almost entirely across the room!

Girud, now without an enemy, moves closer to the new position of this horrid master of evil. [I'm assuming a move anyway.]

Garor casts his spell and moves, ready to do battle. [Righteous Might + Move action]

Adelia moves and summons the will to survive, casting a short spell to heal her. [d20 Roll = 15, Cure Roll = 23 (17+6+?) ]

The battle goes on as 'The Master' mocks you all...



"You will all die here..."[/color]

{Initiative: Galdren, Krysta, Yuri and Alton, 'The Master', Girud, Garor, Adelia. }

Map;

                 
  ______________   ______________
 |              \±/ §            |
 |                  R            |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                            A  |
 |                               |
 |           G        T K        |
 |        Y      0               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |          O                    |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 |                               |
 | M                             |
 |_______________________________|
                 

[/pre]
<<<Legend>>>

± = Unholy Throne
§ = The Body of Mordrock

M = 'THE MASTER'
(StoneSkin HP Left 104/150)
(Protection from Energy, Fire HP Left = 94/120)
(Protection from Energy, Sonic HP Left = 120/120)
(Protection from Energy, Acid HP Left = 120/120)
[Real HP 132/153]
G = Girud
O = Garor
R = Galdren
K = Krysta
Y = Yuri
T = Alton
A = Adelia

[Jevva]

Hmm, well, this is unfortunate.

Galdren sheathes his wakizashi, and, grasping his katana with both hands, moves as close to the Master as possible.

Double move

[TheUdjat]

((Unless Wizard appears, assume that I am running Irris as well.))

Irris realizes the failure of their plan and, at Tineniel's words, gets ready to move from the wagon to a beast, prepared to ride with the shard to keep it secure.

Tineniel, meanwhile, gives Romar a cold stare, silently swearing to himself to enact retribution - when the matter at hand is settled. His finger twitch in anticipation, the evocations running rampant through his mind, eager to wreak havoc on Romar's person. But Tineniel's control, even after all this time of inactivity, is paramount.

He turns back to Prince Irinys and his retinue, taking his anger for Romar and directing it towards the enemy. "You have a difficult choice to make! Chase the shard, or take cover?" He feels the magic surge through his veins, and the words rush to his lips in a frenzy of unconscious, unremembered practice. His fingers twist and writhe, forming perfect symbols in the air, conjuring the magic from raw essence into the sharp, useful art that is Tineniel's secret trade.

He rises, swiftly, a full 45' straight into the air, glaring down at the elves like the embodiment of the desert's wrath. "You will not have this shard!"

((Tineniel casts Fly, and makes a feeble attempt at Intimidating the much larger Elven force. It's, uh, at +0, plus any surprise bonuses - Hey, you never know.))

[GeneralMHB]

OOC: Whoops.... Forgot about the immunities.

Seeing that there is not much he can do because of the protection around 'The Master', Yuri decides that defense is the best course of action to take. With that, he manifests a few powers to defend himself from his onslaught and hopes his power weakens enough. With the power casted, he moves further away from 'The Master' and the party to ensure another fireball does not do another bit of massive damage to more than two people.

OOC: Casting Energy Retort, Fire. 49 HP, 39 Power points.

[Japic]

Cursing his dumb luck Girud hopes to survive long enough to even touch the Master again.

{Charge (60' should be enough to get to him) PA for 2; +15 to hit; 4d6+16 dam} {AC 20, SR 13}

---

Becoming less pleased by the cowardly 'Master' by the second Alton changes direction and hauls ass back towards the Master. Every little bit counts, right..?

{30 ft move SW; +10 to hit, 1d4+3 dam} {AC 21}

[VemuKhaham]

At Telena's mocking words, a brief, high-pitched sound leaves Romar's lips, as if a word had just fallen prone of his tongue. He was simply out of words. Tineniel had won with his insults and inspiring words, Telena would follow him. Romar then realizes his part in this battle was over. He could now choose to either follow the people of the Dune Palace, but not receive any further respect anymore, or to end it all here and now, finally putting an end to this theater that had run out of hand.

And why not do the latter? What good had this war done to him up until now? He had done everything in his might to get this war to a good end, EVERYTHING! More than others maybe, except maybe those that had died, like his dear brother Ludhèr. But every ally he had had, had forsaken him along the way. It seemed like everybody had stopped caring about the final destination, the goal that should be on everybody's mind: to destroy the Master, and only the elves could do it. And so he would make things plain, one last shot to bring this brave yet stubborn people to reason.

As Telena commanded her soldiers to run, he took a large step back in the direction of the elves, then he began to hurry to the middle of the battlefield. Once he had reached a safe distance, where he was somewhat closer to the elves than to the soldiers of the Dune Palace, he turned to face all that where present, both elves and desert people.

“Listen to me, for this battle must end to win another war. Prince Irinys of the elven army, Telena, and all other members of the Council of the Dune Palace, listen to me!

I am Romar Belamor, and I am not who you think I am. I was once warrior of the Blackwing Kingdom, I was one of its people's champions. Before that, I served in the legions of Carealal as it fell to the undead hordes. I also served Bazarkrak Castle, under brave king Grandil. That was in the same period. Likewise, I pledged my servitude to the blessed brothers and sisters of the Hidden City, legendary place of divinity. You might say that I served the people of Rocroost Bay as well. I did that, all at the same time. In my letter you possess, you can validate most of my words. What you do not know, either one of you, is that I, for one, serve both the parties present here today. Yes, I am, for my part, a servant of the Empire of Astoril, and so am I a follower of the Council of the Dune Palace.”

Romar is silent for a bit, then he resumes.

“Some would, on those grounds, call me a traitor. I know that the people of Ravenshead call me a traitor. I know that you, people of the Dune Palace, call me a traitor. Maybe even, the fact that I now state my servitude to all those different kingdoms and peoples, even marks me as a traitor to the Elven Empire. But what will that lead to? What will name-calling to our would-be allies amount to if we are faced by a threat far greater than any single one of you could stand against?

We all have weapons! We all have a single purpose! Even as you stand here, on opposite sides of a field of war, heed my words as I say you are making a big mistake not to unite! Every group I have just mentioned I serve, and still serve, because they fight against the single group that I refuse to bow down to. But also, every single one of these groups refuses to come together, unite! Believe me! I have seen more bickering among all of you than any one here! I have heard all the arguments of all sides! And while all these allies were pulling at me for my help against the Master, I was also forced to choose.”

Romar throws down his bow from his back on the ground, his swords he hurls away into the night. He nearly howls as he expresses his next sentence.

“I am sick and tired of choosing what ally to serve, trying to bring them together through diplomacy, theft, spying and fighting, but it was all I could do! It was partly on my account that King Grandil was able to ally with King Sturmguard! It was me who stole many shards from the basement of castle Ravenshead so that the elves of Astoril who held the weapon could use them! And, as the elves needed but one more, it has been me who was plotting the transaction of the Dune Palace’s shard to the Astoril Empire. Yes, plotting, because I knew that it would not be given freely, for such inquiries had been made before.

While others have been clever to build a weapon to destroy the Master – the elves – and some have fought bravely to secure these shards – my former companions come to mind – I have tried to bring these two together. Now, we stand here today, in the middle of the desert, arms drawn against each other. We together have the tools to smite our common enemy once and for all off the face of this planet. I for one have thrown away my weapons. I refuse to fight any longer. I am tired of it. If this stand-off will not lead to a reasonable outcome, I will stop, bother none of you any longer, and head off to confront the Master and his servants in the midst of his suffocating marshlands if I have to, while you struggle here among yourselves, perishing one by one.”

Romar stamps his feet into the sand. He looks first to Irinys, then to Telena.

“Please, I stand here unarmed. Will the two of you please come here also, after you have removed your weapons?”

---

That's a load of my chest.

[VemuKhaham]

At Telena's mocking words, a brief, high-pitched sound leaves Romar's lips, as if a word had just fallen prone of his tongue. He was simply out of words. Tineniel had won with his insults and inspiring words, Telena would follow him. Romar then realizes his part in this battle was over. He could now choose to either follow the people of the Dune Palace, but not receive any further respect anymore, or to end it all here and now, finally putting an end to this theater that had run out of hand.

And why not do the latter? What good had this war done to him up until now? He had done everything in his might to get this war to a good end, EVERYTHING! More than others maybe, except maybe those that had died, like his dear brother Ludhèr. But every ally he had had, had forsaken him along the way. It seemed like everybody had stopped caring about the final destination, the goal that should be on everybody's mind: to destroy the Master, and only the elves could do it. And so he would make things plain, one last shot to bring this brave yet stubborn people to reason.

As Telena commanded her soldiers to run, he took a large step back in the direction of the elves, then he began to hurry to the middle of the battlefield. Once he had reached a safe distance, where he was somewhat closer to the elves than to the soldiers of the Dune Palace, he turned to face all that where present, both elves and desert people.

“Listen to me, for this battle must end to win another war. Prince Irinys of the elven army, Telena, and all other members of the Council of the Dune Palace, listen to me!

I am Romar Belamor, and I am not who you think I am. I was once warrior of the Blackwing Kingdom, I was one of its people's champions. Before that, I served in the legions of Carealal as it fell to the undead hordes. I also served Bazarkrak Castle, under brave king Grandil. That was in the same period. Likewise, I pledged my servitude to the blessed brothers and sisters of the Hidden City, legendary place of divinity. You might say that I served the people of Rocroost Bay as well. I did that, all at the same time. In my letter you possess, you can validate most of my words. What you do not know, either one of you, is that I, for one, serve both the parties present here today. Yes, I am, for my part, a servant of the Empire of Astoril, and so am I a follower of the Council of the Dune Palace.”

Romar is silent for a bit, then he resumes.

“Some would, on those grounds, call me a traitor. I know that the people of Ravenshead call me a traitor. I know that you, people of the Dune Palace, call me a traitor. Maybe even, the fact that I now state my servitude to all those different kingdoms and peoples, even marks me as a traitor to the Elven Empire. But what will that lead to? What will name-calling to our would-be allies amount to if we are faced by a threat far greater than any single one of you could stand against?

We all have weapons! We all have a single purpose! Even as you stand here, on opposite sides of a field of war, heed my words as I say you are making a big mistake not to unite! Every group I have just mentioned I serve, and still serve, because they fight against the single group that I refuse to bow down to. But also, every single one of these groups refuses to come together, unite! Believe me! I have seen more bickering among all of you than any one here! I have heard all the arguments of all sides! And while all these allies were pulling at me for my help against the Master, I was also forced to choose.”

Romar throws down his bow from his back on the ground, his swords he hurls away into the night. He nearly howls as he expresses his next sentence.

“I am sick and tired of choosing what ally to serve, trying to bring them together through diplomacy, theft, spying and fighting, but it was all I could do! It was partly on my account that King Grandil was able to ally with King Sturmguard! It was me who stole many shards from the basement of castle Ravenshead so that the elves of Astoril who held the weapon could use them! And, as the elves needed but one more, it has been me who was plotting the transaction of the Dune Palace’s shard to the Astoril Empire. Yes, plotting, because I knew that it would not be given freely, for such inquiries had been made before.

While some have been clever to build a weapon to destroy the Master – the elves – and others have fought bravely to secure these shards that can fuel it – my former companions come to mind – I have tried to bring these two together. Now, we stand here today, in the middle of the desert, arms drawn against each other. We together have the tools to smite our common enemy once and for all off the face of this planet. I for one have thrown away my weapons. I refuse to fight any longer. I am tired of it. If this stand-off will not lead to a reasonable outcome, I will stop, bother none of you any longer, and head off to confront the Master and his servants in the midst of his suffocating marshlands if I have to, while you struggle here among yourselves, perishing one by one.”

Romar stamps his feet into the sand. He looks first to Irinys, then to Telena.

“Please, I stand here unarmed. Will the two of you please come here also, after you have removed your weapons?”

---

That's a load of my chest.

Diplomacy +0 (next time we level up I'm gonna give this a boost)

[Japic]

{That had to be the longest six seconds in history....}

[VemuKhaham]

...or Romar is the fastest rapper of the world.

But I know; I'll just hope that people will stop battling and running for a while to hear my plea for peace. If not, well, the speech will stop when nobody's listening.

[Fangor the Fierce]

Krysta's wounds are still bleeding, and now the Master has moved clear across the room. Turning to Adelia, Krysta calls out, "I hope you are ready for this!"

Adelia simply lets the warmth engulf her, as the wounds heal slightly. It won't be much longer...
Adelia will ready an action...

She will ready to use her Domain Spell, Searing Light, for when the Master tries to use another spell. That way, it would hopefully disrupt him...

Searing Light, Range 160 feet, +6 to hit, Ranged Touch Attack, SR: yes, Divine Spell power to get a better damage range. (Please roll D20 again)

An undead creature takes 1d6 points of damage per caster level (maximum 10d6), and an undead creature particularly vulnerable to bright light takes 1d8 points of damage per caster level (maximum 10d8).


Krysta moves closer to Adelia yet again, hoping to get some healing next round...

D20 roll =
1-3 Caster Level is then 6, 6d6 dmg
4-6 Caster Level is then 7, 7d6 dmg
7-9 Caster Level is then 8, 8d6 dmg
10-12 Caster Level is then 9, 9d6 dmg
13+ Caster Level is then 10, 10d6 dmg

[BluSpecs]

Garor uses his domain smite for the day for his first attack

Masterwork Maul +2 (+21, 2d8+20 . 20\x3 Ghost Touch)

AC: 22
HP: 90
Size large with DR 6/evil

If he cannot reach the master he'll do this when he can