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A little squeak escapes Branch's mouth as she stares into the eyes of the creature that tore apart Han. She doesn't even dare looking down at Han even though she knows its bad, real bad. Why are they here? Should they have followed that other ship to the city of the non dead? These thoughts float through her mind as she aims her arrow at the creature.
Attack: 14 Damage: 8
Sneak attack due to Aluve being at the creature: 4
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
A pitiful whimper escapes the first creature's jaws as Chatcho invades its mind. It collapses to the ground, whining and writhing, before Archibald ends its misery once and for all. Bramble, seeing that he is no longer in danger, trades his swords for his bow once more, and looses a shaft over the distance.
The two shafts go wide of the creature, sparking off the paving stones of the street. A moment later, it leaps from over Hanson's body toward Branch. Time freezes for a moment for her, watching the creature in the air as it crosses the distance, images from the shared memory, of what had just happened to Hanson flash through her mind. And then, Aluve is there, appearing out of thin air and leaving a swirl of mist in his wake. He intercepts the creature, slashing down at it and slamming it into the ground. It barks a surprised tone and is back on its feet in a moment, but he doesn't let up, drawing a scarlet line across its flank. The creature snarls its fury and throws itself onto Aluve. Using its powerful hind legs it digs deep gouges into the flesh of his abdomen while its teeth sink into one shoulder.
Hanson remains where he was felled, blood splattered around him from his many extensive, and deep wounds. He, too, remembers the death of whomever's memory they'd shared, but it is not fear that wracks him now, but frustration. Why had the gate been closed? Who had consigned all those people to a fate such as this? And why, by the gods, why had the same fate befallen him? No. It was unacceptable, his story was not yet told, and there was a reckoning to be had. Someone, something had caused all this suffering, and he would see it through.
New-found strength flooded his broken body then, fueled by the frustration and determination to survive this endeavor. Reaching for a weapon, he stands once more, still bleeding, battered, and broken, but alive.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Branch is almost rooted in the spot as the creature leaps towards her, thinking this is it, this is how I go.. then out of the blue, Alvue is there, how is that possible? But then, her friend is attacked by the devilish thing. It takes all her might not to scream out his name as he is ripped into, but stays quiet as she doesn't want to attract more of these beasts. She then drops her bow and draws her two daggers, wanting to plunge them deep. Skirting around Alvue to get a good attack at it's side, she sneaks up..
Pain surges its way through Aluves body as the creature bites down into his shoulder, its claws pulling away skin and flesh.
"Arggghh, you bastard!" Aluve couldn't move his arm, the beast rendering it useless. He manages to use his other one however bringing his sword up attempting to drive it into the hound from underneath.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Han struggles to his feet anger and frustration burning in his soul. This has been the worst day ever and he’d be damned if it would get the better of him. Besides she was waiting for him. He would not fall as he draws his rapier blood pooling around him he lunges for the malignant creature.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The second beast, though much farther, isn’t beyond the reach of Chatcho’s mind. Once again the Thri-Kreen forges a bullet from panic and confusion and launches it at the speed of thought.
[spell]Mind Sliver[\spell]: 1 Psychic Damage should it fail a INT saving throw of 13.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Proving much more resilient than its companion, this second beast remains steadfast even as Branch cuts at its flanks, and Aluve spears it through the gut with his sword. Even as he does so, the creature continues its assault, ripping and tearing at every inch of flesh that it can before it is finally thrown to the ground. Blood pools from its assorted wounds, but it seems none-the-weaker for it, landing on its paws and snarling as frighteningly as ever. For a second, it looks as if it'll leap right back into the fray, but Bramble's arrow finds it first. The creature yelps, as the bolt crosses the distance in a moment and imbeds itself in its haunch.
It wheels around, but Branch is faster. Not willing to let it escape and maul another one of her new-found allies she jumps in front of it, catching it as it tries to charge the firbolg, even as far as he is. With one hand, she holds the beast at bay as she drives the dagger in the other hand into its ribs, and then again, and again, until it lies motionless on the stones and her breathing, fast and heavy, is the only audible noise between them.
The party is wounded, and exhausted, but silence reigns over the street once more. The battle is over, for now, and the gatehouse is within their reach. There is still one alleyway between them and their goal, but these creatures--as rotten as the city around them--remain a mystery. It might not be wise to linger in the open, here, but it could be equally unwise to pass up the opportunity to learn whatever they can. As they take a precious few moments to collect themselves, and regather their strength, this choice lingers on their minds.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Han looking very much like a bloodied corpse slows adds a meager bit of healing magic sealing what wounds he can but not knowing what malady these creatures claws and fangs may hold he cleans himself with a quick Prestidigitation then throws a Healing Word in to the mix. A bit less disheveled he comments “I don’t think hiding them will help much we just made a lot of noise and their smell is quite potent anything a mile out or down wind definitely knows their something in this vicinity. Search the corpse for clue or information if you must but I say we make haste, fix the gate and run like hell.”
"I agree with Han....argh." Aluve replies whilst touching his bite wound on his shoulder. "If we get attacked again I don't know how well we will fair fighting more in the street, then possibly fighting again in the tower...."
Aluve cast Cure Wounds On himself.
Roll 8+2 = 10
"Does anyone else need healing? I have enough energy for one more spell but that also means I wont be able heal anyone if he run into trouble in the tower."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"I think we need to keep moving! To the tower, and hopefully we can figure out what is actually going on. I for one am not curious enough about what happened here until we are safely away. Those are not creatures to mess with!" Branch turns to Aluve, "I'm good, are you?"
And once that exchange is done, she starts heading to the last alleyway, planning to peak around the corner again as she had done before.
Slowly the groups came together again, and the party gathered what remaining strength it had. But as Branch stared down the depths of the last alleyway, a sound would echo over the street. A scraping sound, that came not from down the alleyway, but from the direction of the tower. Alert after their run-in with the local wildlife, the party as one snapped their heads around to look, and found a man, standing there. He held the doorway to the tower open wide, and gestured with long arcing motions for the party to come.
Branch's mouth drops open in surprise as the man suddenly appears at the tower. What? How? Her mind goes blank trying to understand and what the implications could mean, is this the man that rose the gate so they couldn't pass? Before she had time to really think things through, Archibald and Han started heading in that direction. Not wanting to split her team up, she follows as well, hands by the hilts of her daggers as she moves.
"C-come now, qui-quickly now." The man stammers as the party approach and file through the threshold one by one. The moment they are through he slams the door shut again, sliding a heavy metal bar in place and locking it with a robust padlock. The party enter a cramped, well-used living quarters. Thatch-lined bedding, an unlit--but prepared--makeshift fireplace of rubble and some strange metal piping, and all the filth of a man who's lived in the same place too long. But beyond the new lie dormant vestiges of the old. The masterful stonework that forms the walls, a shattered blade discarded in a corner, and fortifications that make it all too clear. This room was once an armoury, or some kind of guard post in any case.
The man turns from the door, taking them all in with a quizzical look. As if having forgotten and suddenly remembering again, his face darkens with disapproval. "A dam-damned fool th-thing y-you did, w-wandering them st-stre-streets. The gate is-is closed for a r-reason, h-how did you get in? The m-m-matr-matriarch said we would be th-the last." The words fall from his lips like lead, and he struggles over each one as if he had to drag its weight from the depths of his throat. Each word is a battle for him, and he quickly exhausts of it, turning his attention instead to a pot, stirring its ingredients with halting, jerky motions that seem to plague not only his speech.
Again he seems to forget they even exist, ignoring their replies without so much as a grunt as he struggles to strike a spark into the unlit fireplace. His uncoordinated motions make it exceedingly difficult for him, and without assistance it takes him several minutes to finally light the flame, and place the pot to cook. All the while he looks past the party as if they weren't there, but when he is done another moment of realization strikes him. This time his face softens as he takes each of them in, his tone low. "Y-you are wou-wounded. Rest n-now, th-they will be back s-soon, and we can-can eat. They w-will he-help you, so r-rest now."
A little squeak escapes Branch's mouth as she stares into the eyes of the creature that tore apart Han. She doesn't even dare looking down at Han even though she knows its bad, real bad. Why are they here? Should they have followed that other ship to the city of the non dead? These thoughts float through her mind as she aims her arrow at the creature.
Attack: 14 Damage: 8
Sneak attack due to Aluve being at the creature: 4
A pitiful whimper escapes the first creature's jaws as Chatcho invades its mind. It collapses to the ground, whining and writhing, before Archibald ends its misery once and for all. Bramble, seeing that he is no longer in danger, trades his swords for his bow once more, and looses a shaft over the distance.
The two shafts go wide of the creature, sparking off the paving stones of the street. A moment later, it leaps from over Hanson's body toward Branch. Time freezes for a moment for her, watching the creature in the air as it crosses the distance, images from the shared memory, of what had just happened to Hanson flash through her mind. And then, Aluve is there, appearing out of thin air and leaving a swirl of mist in his wake. He intercepts the creature, slashing down at it and slamming it into the ground. It barks a surprised tone and is back on its feet in a moment, but he doesn't let up, drawing a scarlet line across its flank. The creature snarls its fury and throws itself onto Aluve. Using its powerful hind legs it digs deep gouges into the flesh of his abdomen while its teeth sink into one shoulder.
===================================================================================================================
Hanson remains where he was felled, blood splattered around him from his many extensive, and deep wounds. He, too, remembers the death of whomever's memory they'd shared, but it is not fear that wracks him now, but frustration. Why had the gate been closed? Who had consigned all those people to a fate such as this? And why, by the gods, why had the same fate befallen him? No. It was unacceptable, his story was not yet told, and there was a reckoning to be had. Someone, something had caused all this suffering, and he would see it through.
New-found strength flooded his broken body then, fueled by the frustration and determination to survive this endeavor. Reaching for a weapon, he stands once more, still bleeding, battered, and broken, but alive.
Bramble Attack: 17 Damage: 9
Hound Bite Attack: 15 Damage: 6
Hanson Death Save: 13
Branch is almost rooted in the spot as the creature leaps towards her, thinking this is it, this is how I go.. then out of the blue, Alvue is there, how is that possible? But then, her friend is attacked by the devilish thing. It takes all her might not to scream out his name as he is ripped into, but stays quiet as she doesn't want to attract more of these beasts. She then drops her bow and draws her two daggers, wanting to plunge them deep. Skirting around Alvue to get a good attack at it's side, she sneaks up..
Attack: 17 Damage: 7
Attack: 12 Damage: 2
Sneak attack: 5
Pain surges its way through Aluves body as the creature bites down into his shoulder, its claws pulling away skin and flesh.
"Arggghh, you bastard!" Aluve couldn't move his arm, the beast rendering it useless. He manages to use his other one however bringing his sword up attempting to drive it into the hound from underneath.
Attack roll: 15+4 = 19
Damage = 5+2 = 7
Han struggles to his feet anger and frustration burning in his soul. This has been the worst day ever and he’d be damned if it would get the better of him. Besides she was waiting for him. He would not fall as he draws his rapier blood pooling around him he lunges for the malignant creature.
Attack: 21
Damage: 5
The second beast, though much farther, isn’t beyond the reach of Chatcho’s mind. Once again the Thri-Kreen forges a bullet from panic and confusion and launches it at the speed of thought.
[spell]Mind Sliver[\spell]: 1 Psychic Damage should it fail a INT saving throw of 13.
Proving much more resilient than its companion, this second beast remains steadfast even as Branch cuts at its flanks, and Aluve spears it through the gut with his sword. Even as he does so, the creature continues its assault, ripping and tearing at every inch of flesh that it can before it is finally thrown to the ground. Blood pools from its assorted wounds, but it seems none-the-weaker for it, landing on its paws and snarling as frighteningly as ever. For a second, it looks as if it'll leap right back into the fray, but Bramble's arrow finds it first. The creature yelps, as the bolt crosses the distance in a moment and imbeds itself in its haunch.
It wheels around, but Branch is faster. Not willing to let it escape and maul another one of her new-found allies she jumps in front of it, catching it as it tries to charge the firbolg, even as far as he is. With one hand, she holds the beast at bay as she drives the dagger in the other hand into its ribs, and then again, and again, until it lies motionless on the stones and her breathing, fast and heavy, is the only audible noise between them.
===================================================================================================================
The party is wounded, and exhausted, but silence reigns over the street once more. The battle is over, for now, and the gatehouse is within their reach. There is still one alleyway between them and their goal, but these creatures--as rotten as the city around them--remain a mystery. It might not be wise to linger in the open, here, but it could be equally unwise to pass up the opportunity to learn whatever they can. As they take a precious few moments to collect themselves, and regather their strength, this choice lingers on their minds.
Hound INT DC13: 4
Bramble Attack: 22 Damage: 7
Hound Claw Attack: 17 Damage: 7
Branch OP Attack: 6 Damage: 6
Archibald grabs a corpse by the legs and drags it off the street.
"We gotta hide these, right? Before something triggers to us being here and half the city's monsters comes for us."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Han looking very much like a bloodied corpse slows adds a meager bit of healing magic sealing what wounds he can but not knowing what malady these creatures claws and fangs may hold he cleans himself with a quick Prestidigitation then throws a Healing Word in to the mix. A bit less disheveled he comments “I don’t think hiding them will help much we just made a lot of noise and their smell is quite potent anything a mile out or down wind definitely knows their something in this vicinity. Search the corpse for clue or information if you must but I say we make haste, fix the gate and run like hell.”
Healing Word: 4
"I agree with Han....argh." Aluve replies whilst touching his bite wound on his shoulder. "If we get attacked again I don't know how well we will fair fighting more in the street, then possibly fighting again in the tower...."
Aluve cast Cure Wounds On himself.
Roll 8+2 = 10
"Does anyone else need healing? I have enough energy for one more spell but that also means I wont be able heal anyone if he run into trouble in the tower."
"I think we need to keep moving! To the tower, and hopefully we can figure out what is actually going on. I for one am not curious enough about what happened here until we are safely away. Those are not creatures to mess with!" Branch turns to Aluve, "I'm good, are you?"
And once that exchange is done, she starts heading to the last alleyway, planning to peak around the corner again as she had done before.
Stealth 12
Bramble mumbles his thanks to those who slayed the mongrel that pounced on him, then follows Branch in stealth.
18
Slowly the groups came together again, and the party gathered what remaining strength it had. But as Branch stared down the depths of the last alleyway, a sound would echo over the street. A scraping sound, that came not from down the alleyway, but from the direction of the tower. Alert after their run-in with the local wildlife, the party as one snapped their heads around to look, and found a man, standing there. He held the doorway to the tower open wide, and gestured with long arcing motions for the party to come.
Archibald runs towards the man and -hopefully- safety
Paladin - warforged - orange
Han follows but deeply on edge and suspicious but he is still pretty beat up so a little shelter never hurt.
Branch's mouth drops open in surprise as the man suddenly appears at the tower. What? How? Her mind goes blank trying to understand and what the implications could mean, is this the man that rose the gate so they couldn't pass? Before she had time to really think things through, Archibald and Han started heading in that direction. Not wanting to split her team up, she follows as well, hands by the hilts of her daggers as she moves.
Bramble follows his group with similar caution, keeping one hand on his sword and the other pressed on one of his wounds.
Chatcho follows, hitting his head on the door frame.
Aluve stays with the party, whether this man is friend our foe, getting off the streets was good enough for him at the moment.
"C-come now, qui-quickly now." The man stammers as the party approach and file through the threshold one by one. The moment they are through he slams the door shut again, sliding a heavy metal bar in place and locking it with a robust padlock. The party enter a cramped, well-used living quarters. Thatch-lined bedding, an unlit--but prepared--makeshift fireplace of rubble and some strange metal piping, and all the filth of a man who's lived in the same place too long. But beyond the new lie dormant vestiges of the old. The masterful stonework that forms the walls, a shattered blade discarded in a corner, and fortifications that make it all too clear. This room was once an armoury, or some kind of guard post in any case.
The man turns from the door, taking them all in with a quizzical look. As if having forgotten and suddenly remembering again, his face darkens with disapproval. "A dam-damned fool th-thing y-you did, w-wandering them st-stre-streets. The gate is-is closed for a r-reason, h-how did you get in? The m-m-matr-matriarch said we would be th-the last." The words fall from his lips like lead, and he struggles over each one as if he had to drag its weight from the depths of his throat. Each word is a battle for him, and he quickly exhausts of it, turning his attention instead to a pot, stirring its ingredients with halting, jerky motions that seem to plague not only his speech.
Again he seems to forget they even exist, ignoring their replies without so much as a grunt as he struggles to strike a spark into the unlit fireplace. His uncoordinated motions make it exceedingly difficult for him, and without assistance it takes him several minutes to finally light the flame, and place the pot to cook. All the while he looks past the party as if they weren't there, but when he is done another moment of realization strikes him. This time his face softens as he takes each of them in, his tone low. "Y-you are wou-wounded. Rest n-now, th-they will be back s-soon, and we can-can eat. They w-will he-help you, so r-rest now."