Sun and sea-spray at your back, and smooth, well-worn stone underneath your feet, you make your way up the dock and the path that runs up the side of the gently sloping cliff-face quite easily. Chatting amongst yourselves, you’re just coming up to a bend in the trail, when your conversations are abruptly cut short by an almost childish scream and a responding gurgling moan. Your view of what sounds to be an attack is obscured by the fact that the path – thinned to a single-person width – follows a jutting shelf of rock here, the battle seemingly right on the other side of the shelf.
Morund is silent though many questions rest on the tip of his tongue. He follows cautiously, trying to see what’s happening beyond the narrow path without being seen himself.
Barely managing to stay upright on the thin rocky ledge, you burst around the stone shelf to find that the path widens out, and that pressed up against the rough wall was a human girl fighting off two undead creatures of a humanoid variety with what looked like a the broken rapier – hilt and about a foot of splintered metal all there was between her and the animated corpses.
Morund is stunned by what he sees for a moment, the undead on this hallowed island? For a moment his scholar's mind wants to race ahead, to understand what this foreshadows, to comprehend how it could be. The hefted axe of Gardain and his rushing footsteps bring him back to the moment. There is someone in need, and this is no moment to be distracted. However, beyond some minor magical tricks -- the practice spell of a novice -- there is little that Morund can do in the realm of combat.
"Use me."
The wind carries words to him, sounding like they come from only a few inches away. A few inches below him, to be specific. There is a new feeling of great weight and crackling potential, sat in his breast pocket where he stored his friend's letter and ring. "Use me." He hears again.
Almost by themselves, his fingers seek out the envelope in his pocket. No sooner has he opened it to see if he is mad, or worse, does a thunderous blast burst from within, targeting the undead creature nearest to the girl.
"I suggest we get a move on before this weather gets worse."
D&D since 1984
“Marvellous idea!”
*We should wait for the dm.*
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
Morund pulls his cloak about him, and heads up the jetty with the others.
Merryl follows.
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
Sun and sea-spray at your back, and smooth, well-worn stone underneath your feet, you make your way up the dock and the path that runs up the side of the gently sloping cliff-face quite easily. Chatting amongst yourselves, you’re just coming up to a bend in the trail, when your conversations are abruptly cut short by an almost childish scream and a responding gurgling moan. Your view of what sounds to be an attack is obscured by the fact that the path – thinned to a single-person width – follows a jutting shelf of rock here, the battle seemingly right on the other side of the shelf.
Merryl gulps and sneaks towards the sound. Do you want a stealth check?
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
(No.)
*Okay :)*
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
Morund is silent though many questions rest on the tip of his tongue. He follows cautiously, trying to see what’s happening beyond the narrow path without being seen himself.
Gardain readies a Handaxe
D&D since 1984
If he can Morund pushes through and ahead. Whatever it is, a timid approach cannot help. He bursts around the corner to see what’s happening.
Gardain follows
D&D since 1984
Barely managing to stay upright on the thin rocky ledge, you burst around the stone shelf to find that the path widens out, and that pressed up against the rough wall was a human girl fighting off two undead creatures of a humanoid variety with what looked like a the broken rapier – hilt and about a foot of splintered metal all there was between her and the animated corpses.
Gardain will rush forward. If he can get to melee range will attack with his Handaxe Attack: 9 Damage: 6
if he is still too far away he will cast Sacred Flame DEX 13 Save or take 3
D&D since 1984
Gardain Init: 6
D&D since 1984
Initiative: 8
Morund is stunned by what he sees for a moment, the undead on this hallowed island? For a moment his scholar's mind wants to race ahead, to understand what this foreshadows, to comprehend how it could be. The hefted axe of Gardain and his rushing footsteps bring him back to the moment. There is someone in need, and this is no moment to be distracted. However, beyond some minor magical tricks -- the practice spell of a novice -- there is little that Morund can do in the realm of combat.
"Use me."
The wind carries words to him, sounding like they come from only a few inches away. A few inches below him, to be specific. There is a new feeling of great weight and crackling potential, sat in his breast pocket where he stored his friend's letter and ring. "Use me." He hears again.
Almost by themselves, his fingers seek out the envelope in his pocket. No sooner has he opened it to see if he is mad, or worse, does a thunderous blast burst from within, targeting the undead creature nearest to the girl.
Zombie One Initiative: 14
Zombie Two Initiative: 11
18 initative in game log.
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn
Would you like me to describe what Merryl does?
Characters (Links!):
Faelin Nighthollow - 7th Sojourn