As the cultist in her grip choked and thrashed, Nare struck from behind with a blast of bitter cold—ice seared the man’s flesh, freezing his last breath. He crumpled in her hand like shattered glass, and Sera let the body drop with a thud.
The rest of the cultists were still distracted, shouting at Nare’s flickering illusion as it danced mockingly before them. One finally lunged at it with a furious cry—only to pass through the illusion and stumble into empty air.
Sera stepped forward, blade raised high. Rest seems to forget about her....
The sunblade hummed with holy vengeance as she brought it down on the next cultist in line. The hiss of radiant energy meeting flesh was sharp and final. He staggered back, screaming, and she was already moving—retreating around the corner with practiced precision.
( move 1 step west. hits ac 24 for 13 radiant dam)
She try bash his head with her shield but he ducks that.
( ac 8 with shield )
She exhaled sharply, pressed her back to the cold wall again.
( moving back arlound the corner but not out of his reach)
"Can you obscure their vision?" she called over to Nare, voice low but tense. "Otherwise they’ll just pepper us with sacred flames!"
She wiped a smear of blood off her cheek with her sleeve and tightened her grip on the hilt.
"Make them blind or make them burn," she muttered. "Either way, we hold this line."
Merkas's surprising agility overwhelms the Deathlock for a moment, and the chains bind its hands in pure silver, searing its wrists! Though it doesn't seem perturbed by the pain, it's obvious by the blackening scorch marks, silver can harm the creature. As the daggers slice into its ankles, Merkas notices some resistance against the nonmagical attack, like trying to cut through dense wood. But for what it's worth, the Deathlock does seem to be weakening.
Deathlock is Restrained for 1 round. Dealthlock has damage resistance against nonmagical piercing damage that isn't silvered. Total damage (4). Deathlock is Bloodied.
Ororana, still shaking off the bitter cold and acidic sting of the spell, blinks at Merkas's strange instructions. "How the hells am I supposed to-?" She looks around and spots a fan covered in red runes. "ummmm..." She quavers as she runs south so you can see what she's holding. "This? Maybe? It seems magical??"
Ororana still needs to finish her turn, but is waiting on an answer from Merkas.
"If you think that'll move the pile, then aim them at him and out the door" The sizzling of the creatures flesh from the chain triggers another thought "Try to hit it with the silver stuff!"
Sera's blade slices through Cultist Black like a knife through warm butter. He never even has a chance to scream before he falls to the ground dead. With their numbers dwindling, The Cult Leader is beginning to worry. Her voice echoes through the air in an almost hypnotic tone. "I acknowledge your strength, warrior and Prince of Shadows. And your determination to have made it this far reveals your passion and devotion to what you believe is justice. It may be dificult to see, but we have the same goal. Lower your weapons and approach us that we may show you what plans we have to vanquish our common enemy, the Dragon Armies. I think we can do great work together..."
She holds out her hands to calm her subordinates and watches intently...
I am using the Cult Leader's delayed initiative at the end of the round before carrying on. She will have another turn after this, since she's at the top of the round.
"O-ka-yyy." Ororana says hesitantly, then whips the fan at the treasure in the room. Suddenly, a hurricane of wind tears a line through the chamber, ricocheting of walls, and launching sacks of grain, jugs of oil, coins, and jewels into the air, pelting Hastos, Merkas, and the Deathlock! The furious gale pushes at you and you start to slide backwards! The Deathlock crouches and its clawed feet scratch against the hard stone floor, leaving white, chalky streaks as it slides westward. Silver coins and fancy dining sets of silver bash against the Deathlock ripping away tatters of its clothes and dessicated bits of flesh that fly free from it. Its ragged face is stretched back, revealing rotted teeth in a wide, unearthly grimace!
Hrothbert_Neruca and MrUncleTio please make STR checks (DC 13) to avoid being flung backward into the west wall. After Hastos's STR check, MrUncleTio is up. Deathlock takes 12 damage (Bludgeoning, Silver) from the impact of flying debris, and seems to be barely holding together.
Ororana screams something that sounds like "I'm soooo soooorrrrryyyy!" But you can barely hear her over the force of the windy blast.
The cult leader’s voice dripped with honeyed charm, laced with the insidious pull of powerful magic. A mass suggestion—subtle, persuasive, and overwhelming.
Sera fought it.
She reasoned, she argued with herself—logic, duty, faith, principle. But her will buckled under the weight of the spell. The compulsion settled over her like a fog, thick and sweet."Lower your weapon... approach... and be shown what plans you have to defeat Takhisis..."
( wis save 12. Fails)
The words echoed through her mind, not her own, yet she found herself repeating them, lips moving without thought.
She blinked once. Twice. Her sunblade fizzled out, the radiant energy dying with a hiss.
Without a word, she stepped over the corpse of the cultist she had just slain—still warm beneath her boots—and walked forward. Toward the leader. Toward the others.
Some part of her screamed—deep in her mind, like a caged thing clawing at her thoughts—but the spell was too strong. Her limbs moved with deceptive calm.“Well, show me…” she said, voice distant but curious. “How is weakening the settlement going to defeat Takhisis?”
Her brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of doubt buried in her expression—but her feet carried her willingly toward the heart of the enemy. ( Walk up to cultist leader as close I can )
Merkas' grin as his thought about the treasure hurricane comes to life is slowly replaced by a realization that the wind is powerful enough to blow him away too! He reaches out and grabs the scraps of the deathlocks clothing, holding himself in place just long enough to yell, "Yer Treasure is flying out the room, better chase it!" The impacts from the various objects tear away at the clothing until the kender is flung back against the wall. (Str Save = 12)
Merkas and Hastos are thrown off their feet from the blast! Merkas gets the wind knocked out of him, and recovers from the impact just in time to receive a face-full of Hastos, who rolls off him, and tumbles to the floor beside him.
Looking tattered and wind-swept the Deathock looks around at their destroyed treasure room and shrieks in rage, just as the lights go dark on that half of the room...
The southern half of the room is now Dim Light. Hastos takes 2 Damage (Bludgeoning) Merkas takes 1 Damage (Bludgeoning) MrUncleTio, Hastos is up. You're no longer in line of the Gust of Wind, but the effect lasts for 1 minute. If you end your turn in the line of the blast, you'll have to make the save again. Every movement within the path of the Gust of Wind costs two spaces of movement for every space gained when traveling against the blast.
Hastos is suddenly pelted by a hurricane of coins and loose jewelry.The event is so surreal he can’t help but chuckle as he exclaims “What the hell?“ He crouches in an attempt to deflect the worst of the blast, but unfortunately his shield acts as a sail and Hastos is pulled off his feet. Summersaulting helplessly into Merkas, who had just been flung against the wall himself. Hastos feels the squishy kinder as he plows into him. Hastos does his best to roll off of Marcus as painlessly as possible.
“Sorry, Merkas, are you OK?“ He asked as he gets to his feet.
Hastos, being outside of the influence of the maelstrom that Ororana had created, readies his sword and shield and attacks the sentinel with a classic over the head slashing motion (hit:8, dam 5) then pivots and drives the scimitar through its chest (Hit: CRIT +5, Dam: 10).
Sera's blade slices through Cultist Black like a knife through warm butter. He never even has a chance to scream before he falls to the ground dead. With their numbers dwindling, The Cult Leader is beginning to worry. Her voice echoes through the air in an almost hypnotic tone. "I acknowledge your strength, warrior and Prince of Shadows. And your determination to have made it this far reveals your passion and devotion to what you believe is justice. It may be difficult to see, but we have the same goal. Lower your weapons and approach us that we may show you what plans we have to vanquish our common enemy, the Dragon Armies. I think we can do great work together..."
((WIS Save: 13 Tried to reroll with Heroic Inspiration for a 4 whomp whomp))
Nare, still hanging off the ceiling, waits cautiously for the next move when the taste of excessively sweet honey fills his mouth. 'No! No!No!No!'
'The darkness! Bring the shadows!' He tries to hang onto Sera's words, but the thoughts in his mind grow cold. He feels his body stiffen. No, not the way he usually moves about stiffly, but just dropping shoulders suddenly, as if he had no control. He looks over to Sera, eyes wide as if he was caught in the middle of the path of a bull charging.
He wonders, if they could get out of this alive, if they could possibly revive the other three. That it doesn't have to end this way. But these thoughts are pushed to the back of his mind as he begins to wander into the chamber like a sheep into a den of wolves.
Tightening his grip on the wall himself, he tries to steel his mind against the sickening sugar of the cult leader's words. 'Do not let her-'
His hand droops off the ceiling as he holds onto with just feet and right hand before dangling completely. Like the zombies he just fought, he moves towards her words without question. He walks across the ceiling, 360 degrees upside down.
Ne'haredowell tries to focus on what else his clone had sent him before it was destroyed but finds it too fast and too fading for him to pay attention. Instead, he hones in on Sera's words and nods along with her question.
"Together?" he hesitates. Nare's fuzzy face locks straight in the cultist. Patches of white mix in with the grayish brown of his fur. Some of the gauze dangles down from his neck while his ears point downward in parallel to the pillars, listening for an answer.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
The scimitar tears through the tattered form of the Deathlock, which explodes in a flurry of dust and ash that gets caught in the whirlwind. Merkas receives an unholy baptism of ash, bone flecks, and shredded fabric, turning his blue body gray. With the Deathlock's disintigration, the Hunger of Hadar spell dissipates, but the maelstrom continues to blow. Ororana, helplessly confused, shrugs ineffectivly. She screams something at you with a pleading expression on her face, but the words are scattered in the wind.
Deathlock has been defeated. You each receive 1100 XP! Any treasure in the room is safe for the taking now. I didn't have time to pick out treasure. So pick any two Common or Uncommon Magic items, and one Rare magic item. Then roll a d6. On a 6, you find all three of the items you are looking for. On a 1, you get two random items that I'll roll for you on a chart. Anything between 2-5, you get the Common or Uncommon items you picked. Aside from the magic items you find, there was 7,000 Stl worth of treasure in that room (magic and mundane). Some of it is now blown into the corridor outside the room. It's up to you what you do with it.
Coughing as the dust and ash of the deathlock is blown into his face, Merkas blinks away the tears and realizes that their attacker is nowhere to be seen, he claws his way out of the thrust of the wind and starts heading down the hall to where Sera and Nare were. “C’mon, Sera seemed to be in trouble when I contacted her before we gotta go help, oomf!”Looking back as he’s heading down the hall his vision is cut off by some cloak that the wind finally dislodged from the treasure piles in the room. Clawing at the cloak so he can see his foot kicks a small vial that skitters down the hall in front of him. “For crying out loud, can’t see, stubbing my toe, better pick this up so noone else hurts themselves on it”Slinging the cloak over his shoulders just so he doesn’t have to carry it, he picks up the vial and drops it in his new bag.
You enter the main hallway, oddly convinced of the cult leader's honeyed words. Her shoulders are back and her head is held high as you approach. Then, when you are 10' into the chamber, she curtsies politely. "Greetings. I must applaud you on your courage... and your strength. No one has ever come to this sanctum before who was not invited." She observes your stolen relics of Sargonnas. "And now I see how." Her voice turns almost imperceptibly sour as she notices how you bypassed her undead guardians and various traps. She regains her composure quickly though. "Clever. Resourceful..." she admits with a bit of a huff as her acolytes take positions in front of her by the pillars. "You come here with wrath in your hearts and deadly intent. You see us as enemies to be slaughtered. I think you misjudged us. Tell me, warrior with the fiery blade... why did you come down here? Why do you seek us out?"
The Suggesstion that you are following is to lower your weapons and enter the chamber so she may show you their plans and hopefully work together with you to defeat the Dragon Army. You are under no specific obligation to do more. Since she has not technically shown you her plans yet, you are compelled not to leave or raise your weapons, so long as the goal to acheive (being shown her plans) remains attainable.
Team HOM:
Merkas wastes no time shaking all the dead Deathlock off him. And as he dons the cloak, he suddenly feels safer. Seeing Merkas stomp off with determination, Ororana closes the fan and tucks it into her belt, which does nothing to dimish the maelstrom, but she's not going to leave behind such a powerful weapon. Then, she charges off after Merkas. "Wait! Merkas! Are you alright?!"
To Sera’s dismay, she saw Nare falter—his eyes glaze over—and he too began walking forward, compelled by the same insidious spell.
Shit. Not him too.
But she smiled at his way of obeying. Wlking on the roof. Zombie like and tottally wierd.
The magic still wound through her mind like barbed wire—tightening, pushing, commanding. She had to lower her weapon. She had to step forward. And she had to listen. That was the command:
“Lower your weapon. Approach. Be shown the plan to defeat Takhisis.”
She couldn’t break the spell’s grip. Not yet. But it hadn’t stolen her voice.
If she couldn't strike with her sword, she'd strike with her words.
She looked straight at the priestess of Sargonnas. Calm. Focused. Defiant in the only way left to her.
“There’s no wrath in my heart,” she said, her voice steady. “No murderous intent. Only resolve. Hope. To make things better. Not to slaughter. To win, yes—but for a cause worth winning.”
She let her shield dip slowly, deliberately. Her hand rested on the platinum dragon of Paladine at her neck, held high like a banner.
“Paladine is a god of war—but not one of vengeance by cruelty.”
She had stepped over the body of the cultist she’d killed just moments ago. Noticing her boots were sticky with his blood. It felt like a betrayal, even if she had no choice.
“A trail of misery and pain brought me here. So many victims. So much suffering. And this... this is your answer? To breed more pain to provoke a vengeance tiwards Takhisis? Or to fuel your own ascension?”
Her voice stayed low, clear, cutting.
She spread her arms slightly—open, submissive, exactly as the spell intended. But her eyes still held fire.
“Maybe I’m wrong. That’s what you want to show me, right?” she added, voice sharpening just slightly. “I am compelled to listen, after all.”
She glanced at Nare, whose awkward shuffle showed he, too, was dancing on puppet strings. Her smirk was weary, ironic.
“So fine. I’m here. You have my attention. Show me this brilliant plan. Show me how it all ends in the defeat of Takhisis… not just another power grab in a sewer.”
She lowered her head just slightly. Not in obedience, but as a mask.
Inside, Sera was already counting heartbeats. Waiting. Watching.
Hastos watches as the Sentinel bursts into Ash and rags. But the Maelstrom continued and coins of various types rapidly collected at his feet. As Marcus and Ororana left the chamber Hastos trudged through the drifts of loot. As a pile of coins were slowly scattered, he noticed underneath a belt buckle with a face was exposed. He reaches down and grabs the sizable buckle and pulls it from the heap, only to find that it was wrapped around a seemingly new set of armor!
Hastos quickly fixes the bundle to his back and dashes out of the chamber after Merkas and Ororana.
“I’m great Ory, that wind spell you did was perfect, but we gotta get to Sera, she really didn’t sound like she went back dancing and I am worried something bad happened when she found the other guy”
Merkas keeps rushing down the hall only slowing enough to glance down the side passages for his companions, mumbling his thoughts as he goes
”I’m pretty sure the Ancient Magus is fine, they’re pretty powerful and wouldn’t fall for any mind tricks or charming or anything, even Sera is strong willed enough to fight off any strange suggestions and stuff, pretty sure she would have killed off two or three before any of them got the better of her”
Recognition dawns as she gets a better look at you, holding your holy symbol of Paladine high. "Sera Uth Darnon. Cleric of Paladine." Though you can't see her face through the depth of the hood, you can hear a smirk in her tone. "I take it you were unimpressed by Santekh's hospitality and sought diversion elsewhere, Hero of Santekh." There's no sarcasm in her tone, and she seems unbothered by your response. She actually seems pleased by it. Such gusto is exactly what she's looking for.
She holds her arms out wide. "What you see is only a small part of the power we have accumulated in this town. Our influence spreads up, and out... even amongst the Hachakee. Our righteous fury powers a mighty engine of war, and Sargonnas grants us the power to create soldiers from the corpses of our enemies, a final insult to their tyrranical actions. Imagine the potential, Hero of Santekh. Our numbers will continue to grow with each victory. With each successful skirmish. In time, we can power an army of thousands who need no food, no water, and fear no pain or death. Yes it's true that our people are suffering, as did the Letni Inhelk... it is an unfortunate tax. One that I mourn each night at worship. But it is the anger and suffering of the people that fuels our god. And Sargonnas has promised us that those who survive will be filled with a ferver and fury that will grant them the strength to win this war! Don't you see?! Takhisis has a power that is insurmountable by mere mortals! We need a god who is actually present in this world in order grant us strength!" Her voice raises to a crescendo with excitement and she holds her hands high, clenching them into fists. "Sargonnas is here with us, granting us extroardinary power and guidance!" she lowers her left hand, opening it, palm up towards you, "While your god sleeps. Paladine's ideals are beautiful and fair, and I understand your loyalty to him. But he's not here. Where are his armies? Where are his dragons?" Her voice booms through the chamber with magical energy, and her eyes crackle with simmering light! Then the room goes eerily silent, letting her words echo in your mind.
Using Thaumaturgy to enhance her plea.
She lowers her hands and shrugs. "I can offer you magic, weapons, food, water, and healing... enough to save and equip yourself, Santekh, and more. Fight alongside us. Guide my armies. And when the war is over, and the Dragon Armies are crushed under our boots, we may settle things between us if that is still what you wish. But do not deny us our vengeance. Aid us. Dawnbound can still serve as the light that shines hope on our cause, while we serve in the shadows, fueling their wrath for justice."
Persuasion: 19 SunDial365 because of Nare's alignment and background, you may not roll with Advantage. Larskolstad because of Sera's alignment and background, you may roll with Advantage. There is no Deception in her attempt. She earnestly believes what she is saying. You may roll an opposed WIS check, Insight check, or CHA check (as sheer force of personality), but not a Deception check.
Team HOM:
Hastos gradually overtakes Ororana and Merkas and turns the corner to the corridor entering the sanctum in time to overhear:
"I can offer you magic, weapons, food, water, and healing... enough to save and equip yourself, Santekh, and more. Fight alongside us. Guide my armies. And when the war is over, and the Dragon Armies are crushed under our boots, we may settle things between us if that is still what you wish. But do not deny us our vengeance. Aid us. Dawnbound can still serve as the light that shines hope on our cause, while we serve in the shadows, fueling their wrath for justice."
he priestess of Sargonnas spoke with a voice that made Sera’s skin crawl. There was something familiar about it, though the deep hood kept her face hidden. Sera strained to place her, but the memory refused to surface. The words came like molten iron—vengeance, victory over Takhisis, revenge for past wrongs. The priestess wove her plan with a skillful tongue: how the settlement was already infused with Sargonnas’ followers, how their influence reached all the way to the highest, strongest powers in the city.
Sera’s gut twisted. She knew her own god, Paladine, seemed dormant—silent. His metallic dragons had not joined the fight. And she was here, alone, surrounded by enemies whose numbers only grew.
She thought back to her life in the streets, when survival meant bitter compromises and swallowing defeat. The memory stung worse than the poison darts. And with it came the shadow of betrayal—towards her new companions… towards Hastos. The thought burned, and she clenched her jaw.
That accusing voice within her wouldn’t shut up, so she smothered it with an old lesson from her father: “All that enemies say is not wrong, Sera… and accepting defeat—serving masters you do not like—that too can be the knight’s way. Stay true to your hopes. Sometimes survival means swallowing a bitter medicine.” Gods, how she wished she could hug him again.
Her gaze swept the chamber, taking in the armed cultists and the priestess watching her intently. She had no plan. No way to win. Fighting would mean dying—and worse, rising again as their thrall.
Her voice, when it came, was flat, stripped of warmth or fire. The voice of a soldier giving the answer an officer wanted to hear. “It is a plan… and a vision I have no alternative to. I am alone...or it is only my friends in Dawnbound and me..but we cannot match the numbers and strenght you have. You have done much, and to fight on now…” She paused, looking over the gathered cultists, weighing the hopelessness in the air. “I can find reason in the shared goal. And I will join your Group.”
The words fell like dead weight into the silence, emotionless, empty—yet binding all the same. Inside, she prayed Paladine would forgive her.
Clutching onto his skull-helmet (he had been thinking of ramming into the pillar to topple it down), he listens enthralled by the sheer magnetism of the leader's speech. He could see how she amassed quite a cult. But it was just like any other cult. Or any other organization. Or hierarchies. It can be broken. Exploited for weakness. Armies rise. Empires fall. Nothing ever truly stays put with time.
The harengon looks over to Sera for strength. This... was not his strong suit. Talking, sure, he could do for a little bit. More like ramble, if he was being honest. But... Religion? The gods? All he knows is what hesaw those two weeks when he died. And even that, well, he can't really say he knew for sure.
Try as he might, he could not wrap his head around it. And as he'd taken notice in their short time together in the sewers, his head's been askew for quite a while. (Perhaps I should fix it,'he thinks, actually taking the time to slightly crack his neck). He tries to understand and string together the words that his ears can very clearly hear, but they fall out of his head just as quickly. The conviction though, and the righteousness of both their speeches on the other hand, he had a better chance latching onto.
He nods along with Sera's assertions. Hope. Yes, that's what he wished when he first came here. It was the reason he agreed to assist the first wave of refugees. The reason why he was here in the first place. Hope in spite of the war, which was bringing itself closer to their doorstep no matter how far they tried to run away from it. It was why he was no longer just living through with what came next (like when he did back with the other orphans). No longer just surviving. But making choices. Actually living. Living...
For a resolve.
Ne'haredowell's ears droop a little bit at the sight of the dead bodies that he had taken a part creating when Sera steps over them.
She holds her arms out wide. "What you see is only a small part of the power we have accumulated in this town. Our influence spreads up, and out... even amongst the Hachakee. Our righteous fury powers a mighty engine of war, and Sargonnas grants us the power to create soldiers from the corpses of our enemies, a final insult to their tyrranical actions. Imagine the potential, Hero of Santekh. Our numbers will continue to grow with each victory. With each successful skirmish. In time, we can power an army of thousands who need no food, no water, and fear no pain or death. Yes it's true that our people are suffering, as did the Letni Inhelk... it is an unfortunate tax. One that I mourn each night at worship. But it is the anger and suffering of the people that fuels our god. And Sargonnas has promised us that those who survive will be filled with a ferver and fury that will grant them the strength to win this war! Don't you see?! Takhisis has a power that is insurmountable by mere mortals! We need a god who is actually present in this world in order grant us strength!" Her voice raises to a crescendo with excitement and she holds her hands high, clenching them into fists. "Sargonnas is here with us, granting us extroardinary power and guidance!" she lowers her left hand, opening it, palm up towards you, "While your god sleeps. Paladine's ideals are beautiful and fair, and I understand your loyalty to him. But he's not here. Where are his armies? Where are his dragons?" Her voice booms through the chamber with magical energy, and her eyes crackle with simmering light! Then the room goes eerily silent, letting her words echo in your mind.
'Pain. And Vengeance,'his mind echoes from earlier. 'So this is why.'
Why so little has been done. Why so little has changed. His frustration why nothing in this town ever truly gets done. Small sacrifices to pay to get to the bigger picture. And Nare understood.
The only god that had spoken up was the one that creates pain and suffering. For Sera, things must have looked bleak. 'They just wanted to save the world.'
Yet the cycle just continues. Closing his eyes, he remembers. He remembers the anger and the hatred he felt. Of everything around him. The want to destroy. To tear. Everything. Down. To make it your own. To make it better. But how long do you keep ripping things apart... just to find them even more broken? That hate just brings more hate. And pushes everyone away?
Her voice, when it came, was flat, stripped of warmth or fire. The voice of a soldier giving the answer an officer wanted to hear. “It is a plan… and a vision I have no alternative to. I am alone...or it is only my friends in Dawnbound and me..but we cannot match the numbers and strenght you have. You have done much, and to fight on now…” She paused, looking over the gathered cultists, weighing the hopelessness in the air. “I can find reason in the shared goal. And I will join your Group.”
The words fell like dead weight into the silence, emotionless, empty—yet binding all the same. Inside, she prayed Paladine would forgive her.
And now for Sera.
'What?'His head near turned a full 360 from his vantage point to get a good look at her. 'No!'
He wanted to yell at her. To shake her down. To scream at her: No! Don't lose sight of your convictions!
Yet he couldn't. He only just met her. But in the short time, he knew the cleric was driven. Her passion burned just like her sun-blade. She couldn't have just given up just like that. No. It was for survival. The hope drained from him... They weren't winning this one. Where were the others? Had they died? Was it just them? Just like-
'No.'He mentally reassures himself. 'Not like that.'
"How much-"he croaked, "how much sacrifice... is worth it?"He steps down from the ceiling, then jumps in the way a bunny does to land on his feet to stand next to Sera.
((don't know if this is needed but uh Acrobatics check: 8 + 3 (from Lucky Footwork) = 11 to jump from ceiling to floor or just walk down))
At the same time, he fiddles in his cloak to find his pocketwatch.
((Sleight of Hand: 18))
Turning it two more dials, he tries to mental project his goals onto his magical doppelganger: find the others and tell them what it learned about the sacks and the masked cultists. Hoping that they would be nearby, the harengon tries to think it to appear past the hallway to find them. They must be nearby somewhere...
He hangs the question with nothing more as he keeps his mind's focus elsewhere.
((Nare uses the Rogue's Watch to create the magical double for 20 seconds outside the hallway to go find Hastos, Merkas, and Oranna and let them know of what it found))
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Coming around the last corner, Merkas sees Hastos stopped in the hallway due to the lights in the room beyond. Slowing and creeping up to look between the elfs legs he whispers up at his companion "What'd I miss? Is Sera and the Magus alright?"
His view is blocked by the flaps on the armour the Hastos is wearing, Merkas keeps blowing the fabric out of his eyes he can't get the best read on the room. (Arcana =6 looking for magical lights or different types of enchantment/traps like what was in the graveyard, Perception = Nat 1 trying to get a read of the room)
Hastos watches, unbelievingly, as Sera and Nare slowly approach the priestess. As he hears Sera agree to join the priests cause, his mouth falls open slightly, surely she’s deceiving the priestess? Or could it be she’s under some enchantment? “Enchantment seems like the most likely scenario given that bunny has also joined her at her side.”, he thinks to himself. As Hastos watches, he quietly pulls the bundle from his back and places it on the ground. He loosens the side straps on his chest armor and shrugs the dragon armor off. Laying it on the ground, he contemplates the metaphore as he dons the armor he found in the treasure chamber and fastens the belt around his waist. As he does so, he feels an energy in his hands and limbs. A strength he had never felt before. The new splint breastplate is free of Dragon Army history. Free of the pain of failure and betrayal. Free of the self loathing that has dominated his existence. For the first time since Hastos was a young man, he feels free.
He feels the kinder between his feet. "What'd I miss? Is Sera and the Magus alright?" Merkas asks.
“ This is bad, my friend. They both seem to be under some sort of enchantment by the priestess.” Hastos whispers solemnly. He doesn’t say the hard part out loud, “I hope.”
Ororanna joins them as Hastos continues.
“Although we know who to focus on.” He’s says with a slight growl. “We need to pour everything we got on her. We take her down, and we hopefully get Sera and Nare back to take out the rest of them.”
He looks down at Merkas. “Do you think you can blind the priestess? Maybe use that light thing? If you can do that I’ll start the charge and you guys come in behind me, but we hit the priestess with everything we’ve got. But try to leave a corpse we can identify.” He looks back at Ororanna with a grin, “Even if it’s just a head.”
As the cultist in her grip choked and thrashed, Nare struck from behind with a blast of bitter cold—ice seared the man’s flesh, freezing his last breath. He crumpled in her hand like shattered glass, and Sera let the body drop with a thud.
The rest of the cultists were still distracted, shouting at Nare’s flickering illusion as it danced mockingly before them. One finally lunged at it with a furious cry—only to pass through the illusion and stumble into empty air.
Sera stepped forward, blade raised high. Rest seems to forget about her....
The sunblade hummed with holy vengeance as she brought it down on the next cultist in line. The hiss of radiant energy meeting flesh was sharp and final. He staggered back, screaming, and she was already moving—retreating around the corner with practiced precision.
( move 1 step west. hits ac 24 for 13 radiant dam)
She try bash his head with her shield but he ducks that.
( ac 8 with shield )
She exhaled sharply, pressed her back to the cold wall again.
( moving back arlound the corner but not out of his reach)
"Can you obscure their vision?" she called over to Nare, voice low but tense. "Otherwise they’ll just pepper us with sacred flames!"
She wiped a smear of blood off her cheek with her sleeve and tightened her grip on the hilt.
"Make them blind or make them burn," she muttered. "Either way, we hold this line."
Team HOM:
Merkas's surprising agility overwhelms the Deathlock for a moment, and the chains bind its hands in pure silver, searing its wrists! Though it doesn't seem perturbed by the pain, it's obvious by the blackening scorch marks, silver can harm the creature. As the daggers slice into its ankles, Merkas notices some resistance against the nonmagical attack, like trying to cut through dense wood. But for what it's worth, the Deathlock does seem to be weakening.
Deathlock is Restrained for 1 round.
Dealthlock has damage resistance against nonmagical piercing damage that isn't silvered. Total damage (4).
Deathlock is Bloodied.
Ororana, still shaking off the bitter cold and acidic sting of the spell, blinks at Merkas's strange instructions. "How the hells am I supposed to-?" She looks around and spots a fan covered in red runes. "ummmm..." She quavers as she runs south so you can see what she's holding. "This? Maybe? It seems magical??"
Ororana still needs to finish her turn, but is waiting on an answer from Merkas.
Map and Link:
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
"If you think that'll move the pile, then aim them at him and out the door" The sizzling of the creatures flesh from the chain triggers another thought "Try to hit it with the silver stuff!"
Loyalty Begets Honour
Sera and Nare:
Sera's blade slices through Cultist Black like a knife through warm butter. He never even has a chance to scream before he falls to the ground dead. With their numbers dwindling, The Cult Leader is beginning to worry. Her voice echoes through the air in an almost hypnotic tone. "I acknowledge your strength, warrior and Prince of Shadows. And your determination to have made it this far reveals your passion and devotion to what you believe is justice. It may be dificult to see, but we have the same goal. Lower your weapons and approach us that we may show you what plans we have to vanquish our common enemy, the Dragon Armies. I think we can do great work together..."
Larskolstad and SunDial365, please roll WIS Save DC 17 to avoid being Charmed condition. (Mass Suggestion).
She holds out her hands to calm her subordinates and watches intently...
I am using the Cult Leader's delayed initiative at the end of the round before carrying on. She will have another turn after this, since she's at the top of the round.
Map and Link:
Team HOM:
"O-ka-yyy." Ororana says hesitantly, then whips the fan at the treasure in the room. Suddenly, a hurricane of wind tears a line through the chamber, ricocheting of walls, and launching sacks of grain, jugs of oil, coins, and jewels into the air, pelting Hastos, Merkas, and the Deathlock! The furious gale pushes at you and you start to slide backwards! The Deathlock crouches and its clawed feet scratch against the hard stone floor, leaving white, chalky streaks as it slides westward. Silver coins and fancy dining sets of silver bash against the Deathlock ripping away tatters of its clothes and dessicated bits of flesh that fly free from it. Its ragged face is stretched back, revealing rotted teeth in a wide, unearthly grimace!
Hrothbert_Neruca and MrUncleTio please make STR checks (DC 13) to avoid being flung backward into the west wall.
After Hastos's STR check, MrUncleTio is up.
Deathlock takes 12 damage (Bludgeoning, Silver) from the impact of flying debris, and seems to be barely holding together.
Ororana screams something that sounds like "I'm soooo soooorrrrryyyy!" But you can barely hear her over the force of the windy blast.
Battle Map and Link:
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
The cult leader’s voice dripped with honeyed charm, laced with the insidious pull of powerful magic. A mass suggestion—subtle, persuasive, and overwhelming.
Sera fought it.
She reasoned, she argued with herself—logic, duty, faith, principle. But her will buckled under the weight of the spell. The compulsion settled over her like a fog, thick and sweet."Lower your weapon... approach... and be shown what plans you have to defeat Takhisis..."
( wis save 12. Fails)
The words echoed through her mind, not her own, yet she found herself repeating them, lips moving without thought.
She blinked once. Twice. Her sunblade fizzled out, the radiant energy dying with a hiss.
Without a word, she stepped over the corpse of the cultist she had just slain—still warm beneath her boots—and walked forward. Toward the leader. Toward the others.
Some part of her screamed—deep in her mind, like a caged thing clawing at her thoughts—but the spell was too strong. Her limbs moved with deceptive calm.“Well, show me…” she said, voice distant but curious. “How is weakening the settlement going to defeat Takhisis?”
Her brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of doubt buried in her expression—but her feet carried her willingly toward the heart of the enemy. ( Walk up to cultist leader as close I can )
Merkas' grin as his thought about the treasure hurricane comes to life is slowly replaced by a realization that the wind is powerful enough to blow him away too! He reaches out and grabs the scraps of the deathlocks clothing, holding himself in place just long enough to yell, "Yer Treasure is flying out the room, better chase it!" The impacts from the various objects tear away at the clothing until the kender is flung back against the wall. (Str Save = 12)
Loyalty Begets Honour
Team HOM:
Merkas and Hastos are thrown off their feet from the blast! Merkas gets the wind knocked out of him, and recovers from the impact just in time to receive a face-full of Hastos, who rolls off him, and tumbles to the floor beside him.
Looking tattered and wind-swept the Deathock looks around at their destroyed treasure room and shrieks in rage, just as the lights go dark on that half of the room...
The southern half of the room is now Dim Light.
Hastos takes 2 Damage (Bludgeoning)
Merkas takes 1 Damage (Bludgeoning)
MrUncleTio, Hastos is up. You're no longer in line of the Gust of Wind, but the effect lasts for 1 minute. If you end your turn in the line of the blast, you'll have to make the save again. Every movement within the path of the Gust of Wind costs two spaces of movement for every space gained when traveling against the blast.
Map and Link:
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Hastos is suddenly pelted by a hurricane of coins and loose jewelry. The event is so surreal he can’t help but chuckle as he exclaims “What the hell?“ He crouches in an attempt to deflect the worst of the blast, but unfortunately his shield acts as a sail and Hastos is pulled off his feet. Summersaulting helplessly into Merkas, who had just been flung against the wall himself. Hastos feels the squishy kinder as he plows into him. Hastos does his best to roll off of Marcus as painlessly as possible.
“Sorry, Merkas, are you OK?“ He asked as he gets to his feet.
Hastos, being outside of the influence of the maelstrom that Ororana had created, readies his sword and shield and attacks the sentinel with a classic over the head slashing motion (hit:8, dam 5) then pivots and drives the scimitar through its chest (Hit: CRIT +5, Dam: 10).
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
((WIS Save: 13 Tried to reroll with Heroic Inspiration for a 4 whomp whomp))
Nare, still hanging off the ceiling, waits cautiously for the next move when the taste of excessively sweet honey fills his mouth. 'No! No!No!No!'
'The darkness! Bring the shadows!' He tries to hang onto Sera's words, but the thoughts in his mind grow cold. He feels his body stiffen. No, not the way he usually moves about stiffly, but just dropping shoulders suddenly, as if he had no control. He looks over to Sera, eyes wide as if he was caught in the middle of the path of a bull charging.
He wonders, if they could get out of this alive, if they could possibly revive the other three. That it doesn't have to end this way. But these thoughts are pushed to the back of his mind as he begins to wander into the chamber like a sheep into a den of wolves.
Tightening his grip on the wall himself, he tries to steel his mind against the sickening sugar of the cult leader's words. 'Do not let her-'
His hand droops off the ceiling as he holds onto with just feet and right hand before dangling completely. Like the zombies he just fought, he moves towards her words without question. He walks across the ceiling, 360 degrees upside down.
Ne'haredowell tries to focus on what else his clone had sent him before it was destroyed but finds it too fast and too fading for him to pay attention. Instead, he hones in on Sera's words and nods along with her question.
"Together?" he hesitates. Nare's fuzzy face locks straight in the cultist. Patches of white mix in with the grayish brown of his fur. Some of the gauze dangles down from his neck while his ears point downward in parallel to the pillars, listening for an answer.
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
Team HOM:
The scimitar tears through the tattered form of the Deathlock, which explodes in a flurry of dust and ash that gets caught in the whirlwind. Merkas receives an unholy baptism of ash, bone flecks, and shredded fabric, turning his blue body gray. With the Deathlock's disintigration, the Hunger of Hadar spell dissipates, but the maelstrom continues to blow. Ororana, helplessly confused, shrugs ineffectivly. She screams something at you with a pleading expression on her face, but the words are scattered in the wind.
Deathlock has been defeated. You each receive 1100 XP!
Any treasure in the room is safe for the taking now. I didn't have time to pick out treasure. So pick any two Common or Uncommon Magic items, and one Rare magic item. Then roll a d6. On a 6, you find all three of the items you are looking for. On a 1, you get two random items that I'll roll for you on a chart. Anything between 2-5, you get the Common or Uncommon items you picked. Aside from the magic items you find, there was 7,000 Stl worth of treasure in that room (magic and mundane). Some of it is now blown into the corridor outside the room. It's up to you what you do with it.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Coughing as the dust and ash of the deathlock is blown into his face, Merkas blinks away the tears and realizes that their attacker is nowhere to be seen, he claws his way out of the thrust of the wind and starts heading down the hall to where Sera and Nare were. “C’mon, Sera seemed to be in trouble when I contacted her before we gotta go help, oomf!” Looking back as he’s heading down the hall his vision is cut off by some cloak that the wind finally dislodged from the treasure piles in the room. Clawing at the cloak so he can see his foot kicks a small vial that skitters down the hall in front of him. “For crying out loud, can’t see, stubbing my toe, better pick this up so noone else hurts themselves on it” Slinging the cloak over his shoulders just so he doesn’t have to carry it, he picks up the vial and drops it in his new bag.
Loyalty Begets Honour
Team Sera-Nare:
You enter the main hallway, oddly convinced of the cult leader's honeyed words. Her shoulders are back and her head is held high as you approach. Then, when you are 10' into the chamber, she curtsies politely. "Greetings. I must applaud you on your courage... and your strength. No one has ever come to this sanctum before who was not invited." She observes your stolen relics of Sargonnas. "And now I see how." Her voice turns almost imperceptibly sour as she notices how you bypassed her undead guardians and various traps. She regains her composure quickly though. "Clever. Resourceful..." she admits with a bit of a huff as her acolytes take positions in front of her by the pillars. "You come here with wrath in your hearts and deadly intent. You see us as enemies to be slaughtered. I think you misjudged us. Tell me, warrior with the fiery blade... why did you come down here? Why do you seek us out?"
The Suggesstion that you are following is to lower your weapons and enter the chamber so she may show you their plans and hopefully work together with you to defeat the Dragon Army. You are under no specific obligation to do more. Since she has not technically shown you her plans yet, you are compelled not to leave or raise your weapons, so long as the goal to acheive (being shown her plans) remains attainable.
Team HOM:
Merkas wastes no time shaking all the dead Deathlock off him. And as he dons the cloak, he suddenly feels safer. Seeing Merkas stomp off with determination, Ororana closes the fan and tucks it into her belt, which does nothing to dimish the maelstrom, but she's not going to leave behind such a powerful weapon. Then, she charges off after Merkas. "Wait! Merkas! Are you alright?!"
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
To Sera’s dismay, she saw Nare falter—his eyes glaze over—and he too began walking forward, compelled by the same insidious spell.
Shit. Not him too.
But she smiled at his way of obeying. Wlking on the roof. Zombie like and tottally wierd.
The magic still wound through her mind like barbed wire—tightening, pushing, commanding. She had to lower her weapon. She had to step forward. And she had to listen. That was the command:
“Lower your weapon. Approach. Be shown the plan to defeat Takhisis.”
She couldn’t break the spell’s grip. Not yet. But it hadn’t stolen her voice.
If she couldn't strike with her sword, she'd strike with her words.
She looked straight at the priestess of Sargonnas. Calm. Focused. Defiant in the only way left to her.
“There’s no wrath in my heart,” she said, her voice steady. “No murderous intent. Only resolve. Hope. To make things better. Not to slaughter. To win, yes—but for a cause worth winning.”
She let her shield dip slowly, deliberately. Her hand rested on the platinum dragon of Paladine at her neck, held high like a banner.
“Paladine is a god of war—but not one of vengeance by cruelty.”
She had stepped over the body of the cultist she’d killed just moments ago. Noticing her boots were sticky with his blood. It felt like a betrayal, even if she had no choice.
“A trail of misery and pain brought me here. So many victims. So much suffering. And this... this is your answer? To breed more pain to provoke a vengeance tiwards Takhisis? Or to fuel your own ascension?”
Her voice stayed low, clear, cutting.
She spread her arms slightly—open, submissive, exactly as the spell intended. But her eyes still held fire.
“Maybe I’m wrong. That’s what you want to show me, right?” she added, voice sharpening just slightly. “I am compelled to listen, after all.”
She glanced at Nare, whose awkward shuffle showed he, too, was dancing on puppet strings. Her smirk was weary, ironic.
“So fine. I’m here. You have my attention. Show me this brilliant plan. Show me how it all ends in the defeat of Takhisis… not just another power grab in a sewer.”
She lowered her head just slightly. Not in obedience, but as a mask.
Inside, Sera was already counting heartbeats. Waiting. Watching.
For a slip. A mistake. A moment to break free.
Hastos watches as the Sentinel bursts into Ash and rags. But the Maelstrom continued and coins of various types rapidly collected at his feet. As Marcus and Ororana left the chamber Hastos trudged through the drifts of loot. As a pile of coins were slowly scattered, he noticed underneath a belt buckle with a face was exposed. He reaches down and grabs the sizable buckle and pulls it from the heap, only to find that it was wrapped around a seemingly new set of armor!
Hastos quickly fixes the bundle to his back and dashes out of the chamber after Merkas and Ororana.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
“I’m great Ory, that wind spell you did was perfect, but we gotta get to Sera, she really didn’t sound like she went back dancing and I am worried something bad happened when she found the other guy”
Merkas keeps rushing down the hall only slowing enough to glance down the side passages for his companions, mumbling his thoughts as he goes
”I’m pretty sure the Ancient Magus is fine, they’re pretty powerful and wouldn’t fall for any mind tricks or charming or anything, even Sera is strong willed enough to fight off any strange suggestions and stuff, pretty sure she would have killed off two or three before any of them got the better of her”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Team Sera-Nare:
Recognition dawns as she gets a better look at you, holding your holy symbol of Paladine high. "Sera Uth Darnon. Cleric of Paladine." Though you can't see her face through the depth of the hood, you can hear a smirk in her tone. "I take it you were unimpressed by Santekh's hospitality and sought diversion elsewhere, Hero of Santekh." There's no sarcasm in her tone, and she seems unbothered by your response. She actually seems pleased by it. Such gusto is exactly what she's looking for.
Larskolstad, please roll Perception, DC13.
She holds her arms out wide. "What you see is only a small part of the power we have accumulated in this town. Our influence spreads up, and out... even amongst the Hachakee. Our righteous fury powers a mighty engine of war, and Sargonnas grants us the power to create soldiers from the corpses of our enemies, a final insult to their tyrranical actions. Imagine the potential, Hero of Santekh. Our numbers will continue to grow with each victory. With each successful skirmish. In time, we can power an army of thousands who need no food, no water, and fear no pain or death. Yes it's true that our people are suffering, as did the Letni Inhelk... it is an unfortunate tax. One that I mourn each night at worship. But it is the anger and suffering of the people that fuels our god. And Sargonnas has promised us that those who survive will be filled with a ferver and fury that will grant them the strength to win this war! Don't you see?! Takhisis has a power that is insurmountable by mere mortals! We need a god who is actually present in this world in order grant us strength!" Her voice raises to a crescendo with excitement and she holds her hands high, clenching them into fists. "Sargonnas is here with us, granting us extroardinary power and guidance!" she lowers her left hand, opening it, palm up towards you, "While your god sleeps. Paladine's ideals are beautiful and fair, and I understand your loyalty to him. But he's not here. Where are his armies? Where are his dragons?" Her voice booms through the chamber with magical energy, and her eyes crackle with simmering light! Then the room goes eerily silent, letting her words echo in your mind.
Using Thaumaturgy to enhance her plea.
She lowers her hands and shrugs. "I can offer you magic, weapons, food, water, and healing... enough to save and equip yourself, Santekh, and more. Fight alongside us. Guide my armies. And when the war is over, and the Dragon Armies are crushed under our boots, we may settle things between us if that is still what you wish. But do not deny us our vengeance. Aid us. Dawnbound can still serve as the light that shines hope on our cause, while we serve in the shadows, fueling their wrath for justice."
Persuasion: 19
SunDial365 because of Nare's alignment and background, you may not roll with Advantage.
Larskolstad because of Sera's alignment and background, you may roll with Advantage.
There is no Deception in her attempt. She earnestly believes what she is saying. You may roll an opposed WIS check, Insight check, or CHA check (as sheer force of personality), but not a Deception check.
Team HOM:
Hastos gradually overtakes Ororana and Merkas and turns the corner to the corridor entering the sanctum in time to overhear:
"I can offer you magic, weapons, food, water, and healing... enough to save and equip yourself, Santekh, and more. Fight alongside us. Guide my armies. And when the war is over, and the Dragon Armies are crushed under our boots, we may settle things between us if that is still what you wish. But do not deny us our vengeance. Aid us. Dawnbound can still serve as the light that shines hope on our cause, while we serve in the shadows, fueling their wrath for justice."
MrUncleTio roll Perception Check DC 13.
Concealed by the dark of the hallway, none of the cult members have noticed you yet. They all seem enraptured by the cult leader's impassioned speech.
Map and Link:
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
he priestess of Sargonnas spoke with a voice that made Sera’s skin crawl. There was something familiar about it, though the deep hood kept her face hidden. Sera strained to place her, but the memory refused to surface. The words came like molten iron—vengeance, victory over Takhisis, revenge for past wrongs. The priestess wove her plan with a skillful tongue: how the settlement was already infused with Sargonnas’ followers, how their influence reached all the way to the highest, strongest powers in the city.
Sera’s gut twisted. She knew her own god, Paladine, seemed dormant—silent. His metallic dragons had not joined the fight. And she was here, alone, surrounded by enemies whose numbers only grew.
She thought back to her life in the streets, when survival meant bitter compromises and swallowing defeat. The memory stung worse than the poison darts. And with it came the shadow of betrayal—towards her new companions… towards Hastos. The thought burned, and she clenched her jaw.
That accusing voice within her wouldn’t shut up, so she smothered it with an old lesson from her father: “All that enemies say is not wrong, Sera… and accepting defeat—serving masters you do not like—that too can be the knight’s way. Stay true to your hopes. Sometimes survival means swallowing a bitter medicine.” Gods, how she wished she could hug him again.
Her gaze swept the chamber, taking in the armed cultists and the priestess watching her intently. She had no plan. No way to win. Fighting would mean dying—and worse, rising again as their thrall.
Her voice, when it came, was flat, stripped of warmth or fire. The voice of a soldier giving the answer an officer wanted to hear. “It is a plan… and a vision I have no alternative to. I am alone...or it is only my friends in Dawnbound and me..but we cannot match the numbers and strenght you have. You have done much, and to fight on now…” She paused, looking over the gathered cultists, weighing the hopelessness in the air. “I can find reason in the shared goal. And I will join your Group.”
The words fell like dead weight into the silence, emotionless, empty—yet binding all the same. Inside, she prayed Paladine would forgive her.
((Nare's CHA Check: 14))
Clutching onto his skull-helmet (he had been thinking of ramming into the pillar to topple it down), he listens enthralled by the sheer magnetism of the leader's speech. He could see how she amassed quite a cult. But it was just like any other cult. Or any other organization. Or hierarchies. It can be broken. Exploited for weakness. Armies rise. Empires fall. Nothing ever truly stays put with time.
The harengon looks over to Sera for strength. This... was not his strong suit. Talking, sure, he could do for a little bit. More like ramble, if he was being honest. But... Religion? The gods? All he knows is what he saw those two weeks when he died. And even that, well, he can't really say he knew for sure.
Try as he might, he could not wrap his head around it. And as he'd taken notice in their short time together in the sewers, his head's been askew for quite a while. (Perhaps I should fix it,' he thinks, actually taking the time to slightly crack his neck). He tries to understand and string together the words that his ears can very clearly hear, but they fall out of his head just as quickly. The conviction though, and the righteousness of both their speeches on the other hand, he had a better chance latching onto.
He nods along with Sera's assertions. Hope. Yes, that's what he wished when he first came here. It was the reason he agreed to assist the first wave of refugees. The reason why he was here in the first place. Hope in spite of the war, which was bringing itself closer to their doorstep no matter how far they tried to run away from it. It was why he was no longer just living through with what came next (like when he did back with the other orphans). No longer just surviving. But making choices. Actually living. Living...
For a resolve.
Ne'haredowell's ears droop a little bit at the sight of the dead bodies that he had taken a part creating when Sera steps over them.
'Pain. And Vengeance,' his mind echoes from earlier. 'So this is why.'
Why so little has been done. Why so little has changed. His frustration why nothing in this town ever truly gets done. Small sacrifices to pay to get to the bigger picture. And Nare understood.
The only god that had spoken up was the one that creates pain and suffering. For Sera, things must have looked bleak. 'They just wanted to save the world.'
Yet the cycle just continues. Closing his eyes, he remembers. He remembers the anger and the hatred he felt. Of everything around him. The want to destroy. To tear. Everything. Down. To make it your own. To make it better. But how long do you keep ripping things apart... just to find them even more broken? That hate just brings more hate. And pushes everyone away?
His heart ached. For them. And for the world.
And now for Sera.
'What?' His head near turned a full 360 from his vantage point to get a good look at her. 'No!'
He wanted to yell at her. To shake her down. To scream at her: No! Don't lose sight of your convictions!
Yet he couldn't. He only just met her. But in the short time, he knew the cleric was driven. Her passion burned just like her sun-blade. She couldn't have just given up just like that. No. It was for survival. The hope drained from him... They weren't winning this one. Where were the others? Had they died? Was it just them? Just like-
'No.' He mentally reassures himself. 'Not like that.'
"How much-" he croaked, "how much sacrifice... is worth it?" He steps down from the ceiling, then jumps in the way a bunny does to land on his feet to stand next to Sera.
((don't know if this is needed but uh Acrobatics check: 8 + 3 (from Lucky Footwork) = 11 to jump from ceiling to floor or just walk down))
At the same time, he fiddles in his cloak to find his pocketwatch.
((Sleight of Hand: 18))
Turning it two more dials, he tries to mental project his goals onto his magical doppelganger: find the others and tell them what it learned about the sacks and the masked cultists. Hoping that they would be nearby, the harengon tries to think it to appear past the hallway to find them. They must be nearby somewhere...
He hangs the question with nothing more as he keeps his mind's focus elsewhere.
((Nare uses the Rogue's Watch to create the magical double for 20 seconds outside the hallway to go find Hastos, Merkas, and Oranna and let them know of what it found))
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
Coming around the last corner, Merkas sees Hastos stopped in the hallway due to the lights in the room beyond. Slowing and creeping up to look between the elfs legs he whispers up at his companion "What'd I miss? Is Sera and the Magus alright?"
His view is blocked by the flaps on the armour the Hastos is wearing, Merkas keeps blowing the fabric out of his eyes he can't get the best read on the room. (Arcana =6 looking for magical lights or different types of enchantment/traps like what was in the graveyard, Perception = Nat 1 trying to get a read of the room)
Loyalty Begets Honour
Hastos watches, unbelievingly, as Sera and Nare slowly approach the priestess. As he hears Sera agree to join the priests cause, his mouth falls open slightly, surely she’s deceiving the priestess? Or could it be she’s under some enchantment? “Enchantment seems like the most likely scenario given that bunny has also joined her at her side.”, he thinks to himself. As Hastos watches, he quietly pulls the bundle from his back and places it on the ground. He loosens the side straps on his chest armor and shrugs the dragon armor off. Laying it on the ground, he contemplates the metaphore as he dons the armor he found in the treasure chamber and fastens the belt around his waist. As he does so, he feels an energy in his hands and limbs. A strength he had never felt before. The new splint breastplate is free of Dragon Army history. Free of the pain of failure and betrayal. Free of the self loathing that has dominated his existence. For the first time since Hastos was a young man, he feels free.
He feels the kinder between his feet. "What'd I miss? Is Sera and the Magus alright?" Merkas asks.
“ This is bad, my friend. They both seem to be under some sort of enchantment by the priestess.” Hastos whispers solemnly. He doesn’t say the hard part out loud, “I hope.”
Ororanna joins them as Hastos continues.
“Although we know who to focus on.” He’s says with a slight growl. “We need to pour everything we got on her. We take her down, and we hopefully get Sera and Nare back to take out the rest of them.”
He looks down at Merkas. “Do you think you can blind the priestess? Maybe use that light thing? If you can do that I’ll start the charge and you guys come in behind me, but we hit the priestess with everything we’ve got. But try to leave a corpse we can identify.” He looks back at Ororanna with a grin, “Even if it’s just a head.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread