(Posting Thatch's action for the top of the next round).
Thatch curses as his arrow slides off of the Thralls armor once again. He draws in a deep breath and focuses on his target, the battle hanging in the balance. Aim true he whispers to himself as he releases another arrow at one of the Thralls engaged with Sir Almeric.
Famh's eyes flutter open as consciousness returns. "Thank you.," she murmurs to Tana as she slowly sits up. Then she sees that the dead are still attacking, and again her head swims with memories not her own. Her hands dip and move, dip and move, pointing towards the ground which the Thralls clustered about Ori and Sir Almeric are standing on. Instantly a shallow pit appears beneath their feet, five feet deep, into which the less nimble among them drop. The earth that had been there writhes like a worm before depositing itself in a berm between the Thralls and the rest of the group (that had not been in melee with them) that they will have to climb to attack anyone else.
Famh's eyes flutter open as consciousness returns. "Thank you.," she murmurs to Tana as she slowly sits up. Then she sees that the dead are still attacking, and again her head swims with memories not her own. Her hands dip and move, dip and move, pointing towards the ground which the Thralls clustered about Ori and Sir Almeric are standing on. Instantly a shallow pit appears beneath their feet, five feet deep, into which the less nimble among them drop. The earth that had been there writhes like a worm before depositing itself in a berm between the Thralls and the rest of the group (that had not been in melee with them) that they will have to climb to attack anyone else.
Giving Sir Almeric a stoic nod as the blast finishes the creature, Fergus' complexion grows paler still and his veins become pronounced and dark. As he continues standing over Cainneach, he is relieved to hear sounds of stable breathing from them.
(Dark One’s Blessing: When you reduce a hostile creature to 0 HP, you gain 5 temp HP.)
Almeric doesn't notice the actins of the others, even Fergus the nearest thing to a friend he has here. The fog of war is upon him and he will fight until all enemies are dead or perish in the attempt. Almeric move to the right, blocks one blow with his shield, swing left with his longsword, parries another blow and reposte's with the blade, disembowelling the creature.
Attack Longsword = 14 (can increase to 17 if needed - Fortune from the Many) Damage = 11 Slashing.
SIr Almeric hews one of his attackers in twain as Ori lies bleeding and Thatch puts an arrow through the eye of the other. Both dead drop to the ground.
The badly battered dead thing headed toward Thatch is soundly beaten down by Famh and Fergus and collapses as well.
The Dell is silent once more though somewhere towards the centre of the Dell the mist seems to flicker now with green flame....
( Combat has ended. Tana can get everyone conscious and on 1 hp over the next few minutes without issue.)
Almeric reverses his sword, so that the quilon and hilt become the head of a cross and he drops to one knee. Regulating his breathing, Almeric keeps a watchful attention on his surroundings while Tana treats the wounded. He is pleasantly surprised that all are alive, although heavily wounded. Praying softly while kneeling, Almeric focusses on the eerie green flame at the centre of the barrow.
Fergus helps those stabilised by Tana to their feet, providing a shoulder to lean on as they regain their senses.
"We should not tarry" Fergus warns with a raspy voice, his throat raw from using the command that normally gets him out of tight spots, wasted here among the dead. A hard lesson. He eyes the green flame anxiously.
Almeric reverses his sword, so that the quilon and hilt become the head of a cross and he drops to one knee. Regulating his breathing, Almeric keeps a watchful attention on his surroundings while Tana treats the wounded. He is pleasantly surprised that all are alive, although heavily wounded. Praying softly while kneeling, Almeric focusses on the eerie green flame at the centre of the barrow.
Action = Divine Sense
An overpowering undead power is building in the centre of the Dell....
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Tana quickly moves about as soon as the final thrall falls, reaching Ori first to first stabilizes his wounds before bringing him back to consciousness and then moving off to shove the remaining dried herbs into Cainneach's mouth. The herbs may not taste great but they will surely provide enough of a bitter taste to startle Cainneach back to the waking world.
"We should move quickly." She calls out once all of the group members have awoken. "Another round with these things will surely kill us all."
Almeric ends his prayers with a start and jumps to his feet. Securing his weapon and shield safely, he prepares to carry Harold once again, alone if required. His countenance is ashen, and any observer is not certain if it this is cause by blood loss, the shock of battle or fear of this place.
"There is a malevolent evil at the centre of the dell, much more powerful than we were lead to believe. Gardener Jack is not to be reckoned with, for he is death and this is his dominion. The only security here is from the iron fence and holy lock that St. Ambrosius put in place centuries ago." Almeric waits for Tana to revive everyone before barking orders!
"ON YOUR FEET! Fall into marching order at once. Follow the path to the gate with haste. The gate MUST remain intact. MOVE!"
As Ori starts to feel his senses come back to him, he starts to open his eyes and sees Tana over him tending to his wounds. "Well your a much prettier sight to see then I was expecting to be looking up at. Are we dead?" Trying to put on a sly grin and wink despite the grueling pain.
Hearing the call to rise from Almeric, Ori gathers what he can from what he dropped and tries to shoulder the tax man again. "You best keep your hands free, I'm afraid mine ain't worth much more then carrying at the moment." Clearly using two hands to stabilize the body on his shoulder this time. "Plus, he still owes me my club I let him borrow."
Leaning on her short staff-spear, Famh slowly gets to her feet. "Absolutely.," she agrees. "This Tuannon may have been faerie kindred once, or a priest of the Old Faith, or whatever he may have been; but he's nothing but a power of death and evil now. Let's get out of here ... " As she speaks, she seems a little more present but still half-wrapped in the faerie trance she's been in since the beginning of the battle. And as she utters the word, "...here", it seems to briefly thicken again. She looks around at the faces of her companions, seeming to impress each upon her memory before moving on to the next. Then she draws a twist of wool out of her lefthand pouch and traces the outline of each comrade in the air before her. Faint images of each appear in the space she outlines and slowly thicken until they look exactly like the person she was tracing. Once all have their illusionary doppelganger, she waves her hand towards the path leading to Tuannon's green-glowing stronghold. The group of shadows slowly marches off that way. "That should give us a minute, maybe a little more ... ", Famh says brightly, and then blinks. You get the feeling that if you were to ask her at this moment what she had just done and how, she wouldn't be able to tell you.
============
Minor illusion of the group, keeping in close formation to remain within the 5' cube radius of the spell
Famh's eyes flutter open as consciousness returns. "Thank you.," she murmurs to Tana as she slowly sits up. Then she sees that the dead are still attacking, and again her head swims with memories not her own. Her hands dip and move, dip and move, pointing towards the ground which the Thralls clustered about Ori and Sir Almeric are standing on. Instantly a shallow pit appears beneath their feet, five feet deep, into which the less nimble among them drop. The earth that had been there writhes like a worm before depositing itself in a berm between the Thralls and the rest of the group (that had not been in melee with them) that they will have to climb to attack anyone else.
Cainneach sits up quickly, slowly chewing the plants he finds in his mouth. It dawns on him that these are medicinal, not for consumption, and smiles at Tana. He awkwardly attempts to discreetly remove them from his mouth, then says to her, "I trust that I have you to thank for my flavourful awakening. Truly, I am in your debt."Cainneach grimaces as he struggles to get to his feet. Instinctively, he reaches for the spot he dropped his bow and reclaims his most trusted weapon. Taking in his surroundings, he finds a battlefield awash in blood and chaos, but thankfully his companions all appear to be conscious and mobile. This vision is interrupted by the yelling of Almeric. Cainneach holds a hand to his head, reorients himself to their previous path, and looks for Thatch so that they might continue leading the party forward. This time with a bit more pace.
Thatch slumps down as the last Thrall falls, exhausted from the effort and light headed from the loss of blood. He pulls himself up at Sir Almeric’s urging, packing some nearby moss into the wound at his side and wrapping a bandage tight. He moves to recover some of his arrows, returning them to his quiver and helps the others get to their feet and get organized.
“Let’s go, no time to waste. I thought we were about to become permanent guests for sure.” He passes an uneasy look back at the growing green mist. Thatch heads out to the front of the column with Cainneach, moving quickly but keeping an eye open for any more threats as they head toward the gate.
The companions continue onwards, hugging the fenceline path as decided, they pass two more paths on their right heading into the centre of the Dell but continue on and after a strtch of time arrive at a familiar grave and the gate to the Dell.
The green lit has grown in both intensity and size and now on the edge of hearing voices can be heard as a cold breeze begins to stir the mist those who listen the voices seem to call,
" Tuannon Dur, rìgh na tìre, Marbh luchd-ionnsaigh, tighearna na h-oidhche. "*
A mournful tune began to drift from the depths of the Dell of bodhran and clarsach.....
Something was waking, something was drawing near....
Famh and Cainneach:-
The dialect is archaic and difficult to understand but you believe the voices are whispering " Tuannon dur, King of this land, Destroyer of invaders, Lord of Night"
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( Famh is brought back to conciousness just in time for her Action)
(Posting Thatch's action for the top of the next round).
Thatch curses as his arrow slides off of the Thralls armor once again. He draws in a deep breath and focuses on his target, the battle hanging in the balance. Aim true he whispers to himself as he releases another arrow at one of the Thralls engaged with Sir Almeric.
Attack: 17 Damage: 9 plus 1 sneak attack damage.
.
Famh's eyes flutter open as consciousness returns. "Thank you.," she murmurs to Tana as she slowly sits up. Then she sees that the dead are still attacking, and again her head swims with memories not her own. Her hands dip and move, dip and move, pointing towards the ground which the Thralls clustered about Ori and Sir Almeric are standing on. Instantly a shallow pit appears beneath their feet, five feet deep, into which the less nimble among them drop. The earth that had been there writhes like a worm before depositing itself in a berm between the Thralls and the rest of the group (that had not been in melee with them) that they will have to climb to attack anyone else.
=================
Move earth
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
The earth churns, though slowly, disorientating the dead a little.
Two turn from the Ori to Almeric and another begins staggering towards Thatch, is taking time to reach him....
Thrall of Tuannon vs Almeric Attack: 20 Damage: 5
Thrall of Tuannon vs Almeric Attack: 16 Damage: 10
(Everyone may act.)
Did you mean Mold Earth?
Ori death save (1 save/0 fails): 18
Cainneach is stable, but remains unconscious.
Active - Player: Sleeping Gods ---- Complete - Player: Masquerade, Teleportation Machine ---- Complete - DM: Extradimensional Spaces
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( Thats what I took it as.)
Almeric doesn't notice the actins of the others, even Fergus the nearest thing to a friend he has here. The fog of war is upon him and he will fight until all enemies are dead or perish in the attempt. Almeric move to the right, blocks one blow with his shield, swing left with his longsword, parries another blow and reposte's with the blade, disembowelling the creature.
Attack Longsword = 14 (can increase to 17 if needed - Fortune from the Many) Damage = 11 Slashing.
SIr Almeric hews one of his attackers in twain as Ori lies bleeding and Thatch puts an arrow through the eye of the other. Both dead drop to the ground.
The badly battered dead thing headed toward Thatch is soundly beaten down by Famh and Fergus and collapses as well.
The Dell is silent once more though somewhere towards the centre of the Dell the mist seems to flicker now with green flame....
( Combat has ended. Tana can get everyone conscious and on 1 hp over the next few minutes without issue.)
Almeric reverses his sword, so that the quilon and hilt become the head of a cross and he drops to one knee. Regulating his breathing, Almeric keeps a watchful attention on his surroundings while Tana treats the wounded. He is pleasantly surprised that all are alive, although heavily wounded. Praying softly while kneeling, Almeric focusses on the eerie green flame at the centre of the barrow.
Action = Divine Sense
Fergus helps those stabilised by Tana to their feet, providing a shoulder to lean on as they regain their senses.
"We should not tarry" Fergus warns with a raspy voice, his throat raw from using the command that normally gets him out of tight spots, wasted here among the dead. A hard lesson. He eyes the green flame anxiously.
An overpowering undead power is building in the centre of the Dell....
Tana quickly moves about as soon as the final thrall falls, reaching Ori first to first stabilizes his wounds before bringing him back to consciousness and then moving off to shove the remaining dried herbs into Cainneach's mouth. The herbs may not taste great but they will surely provide enough of a bitter taste to startle Cainneach back to the waking world.
"We should move quickly." She calls out once all of the group members have awoken. "Another round with these things will surely kill us all."
(Medicine if needed: 16 | 18 | 25)
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
Almeric ends his prayers with a start and jumps to his feet. Securing his weapon and shield safely, he prepares to carry Harold once again, alone if required. His countenance is ashen, and any observer is not certain if it this is cause by blood loss, the shock of battle or fear of this place.
"There is a malevolent evil at the centre of the dell, much more powerful than we were lead to believe. Gardener Jack is not to be reckoned with, for he is death and this is his dominion. The only security here is from the iron fence and holy lock that St. Ambrosius put in place centuries ago." Almeric waits for Tana to revive everyone before barking orders!
"ON YOUR FEET! Fall into marching order at once. Follow the path to the gate with haste. The gate MUST remain intact. MOVE!"
As Ori starts to feel his senses come back to him, he starts to open his eyes and sees Tana over him tending to his wounds. "Well your a much prettier sight to see then I was expecting to be looking up at. Are we dead?" Trying to put on a sly grin and wink despite the grueling pain.
Hearing the call to rise from Almeric, Ori gathers what he can from what he dropped and tries to shoulder the tax man again. "You best keep your hands free, I'm afraid mine ain't worth much more then carrying at the moment." Clearly using two hands to stabilize the body on his shoulder this time. "Plus, he still owes me my club I let him borrow."
Leaning on her short staff-spear, Famh slowly gets to her feet. "Absolutely.," she agrees. "This Tuannon may have been faerie kindred once, or a priest of the Old Faith, or whatever he may have been; but he's nothing but a power of death and evil now. Let's get out of here ... " As she speaks, she seems a little more present but still half-wrapped in the faerie trance she's been in since the beginning of the battle. And as she utters the word, "...here", it seems to briefly thicken again. She looks around at the faces of her companions, seeming to impress each upon her memory before moving on to the next. Then she draws a twist of wool out of her lefthand pouch and traces the outline of each comrade in the air before her. Faint images of each appear in the space she outlines and slowly thicken until they look exactly like the person she was tracing. Once all have their illusionary doppelganger, she waves her hand towards the path leading to Tuannon's green-glowing stronghold. The group of shadows slowly marches off that way. "That should give us a minute, maybe a little more ... ", Famh says brightly, and then blinks. You get the feeling that if you were to ask her at this moment what she had just done and how, she wouldn't be able to tell you.
============
Minor illusion of the group, keeping in close formation to remain within the 5' cube radius of the spell
Oh right, that's what they're calling it now. Yup, that one.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Cainneach sits up quickly, slowly chewing the plants he finds in his mouth. It dawns on him that these are medicinal, not for consumption, and smiles at Tana. He awkwardly attempts to discreetly remove them from his mouth, then says to her, "I trust that I have you to thank for my flavourful awakening. Truly, I am in your debt." Cainneach grimaces as he struggles to get to his feet. Instinctively, he reaches for the spot he dropped his bow and reclaims his most trusted weapon. Taking in his surroundings, he finds a battlefield awash in blood and chaos, but thankfully his companions all appear to be conscious and mobile. This vision is interrupted by the yelling of Almeric. Cainneach holds a hand to his head, reorients himself to their previous path, and looks for Thatch so that they might continue leading the party forward. This time with a bit more pace.
Active - Player: Sleeping Gods ---- Complete - Player: Masquerade, Teleportation Machine ---- Complete - DM: Extradimensional Spaces
Come join the Worlds of Pphost, a new and growing PbP community! Adventures are currently running in the world of Haven or do some role-playing!
It never hurts to help! ---- PbP: [Rolling Dice] [Tooltips] ---- DDB Content: [Free Adventures] [Encounter of the Week]
Thatch slumps down as the last Thrall falls, exhausted from the effort and light headed from the loss of blood. He pulls himself up at Sir Almeric’s urging, packing some nearby moss into the wound at his side and wrapping a bandage tight. He moves to recover some of his arrows, returning them to his quiver and helps the others get to their feet and get organized.
“Let’s go, no time to waste. I thought we were about to become permanent guests for sure.” He passes an uneasy look back at the growing green mist. Thatch heads out to the front of the column with Cainneach, moving quickly but keeping an eye open for any more threats as they head toward the gate.
The companions continue onwards, hugging the fenceline path as decided, they pass two more paths on their right heading into the centre of the Dell but continue on and after a strtch of time arrive at a familiar grave and the gate to the Dell.
The green lit has grown in both intensity and size and now on the edge of hearing voices can be heard as a cold breeze begins to stir the mist those who listen the voices seem to call,
" Tuannon Dur, rìgh na tìre, Marbh luchd-ionnsaigh, tighearna na h-oidhche. "*
A mournful tune began to drift from the depths of the Dell of bodhran and clarsach.....
Something was waking, something was drawing near....
Famh and Cainneach:-
The dialect is archaic and difficult to understand but you believe the voices are whispering " Tuannon dur, King of this land, Destroyer of invaders, Lord of Night"