Stands in a wild fight with a cultist and hears Hastos comments. Give him a sideway glance " are you joking! last cultist ran up and some shit happening in the masuleum..." then she focus back to defeat cultist white...
While Hastos explodes into action, Cult Member White grunts painfully as the javelin pierces his hip, ripping through his clothing and embedding itself in the dessicated earth behind him. The violent death of his comrade and the rising number of enemies presents daunting odds. Seeing no other recourse, he withdraws with haste, dashing through the brambles and weeds that tear and scrape at the fabric of his robe.
Cult Member White takes the Disengage Action Cult Member White is Bloodied. Hrothbert_Neruca Merkas is up.
Hastos, seeing the white cultist turn to run, slides one of the javelins out of his pack as he runs to cover as much ground between the two of them as possible. Taking a side step, Hastos grunts as he releases the javelin high into the air at the fleeing cultist. Hastos continues running toward Sera’s position as the javelin finds its mark.
"Don't let that one get away, he's one of Tekels guys, he's likely the one that knows the most!" The diminutive blue halfling starts chasing down the Cultist(white), his prey runs behind the hedgerow around the graveyard. Merkas gauges the speed he's moving at and starts jumping off the top of the tombstones and a tomb to bound over the hedge and catch up to the cultist. (Acrobatics = 13).
"You got some 'splaining to do mister, I'm not letting you get away!Watching the cultists gait as he catches up, Merkas notices his bloody robe. (Medicine = 9 - hp of enemy)
As soon as he gets within range, Merkas throws his daggers and aims at the first available target, the hamstrings of the fleeing feet that so conveniently are right in his face at regular intervals. Lashing out to slow down the retreating enemy, Splinter and Shard reach out to sever his enemies tendons. (20 - to hit, 5 slashing damage, two weapon fighting 24 - to hit, 2 slashing damage)"Just stop running and I will stop cutting!"
Shtk, shtk! The daggers plunge into Cult Member White's hamstrings and he falls to the ground with a pained yelp. He looks back at the daggers embedded into his legs and sucks air between his teeth as he tries to address the wounds.
The cultist broke into a panicked sprint, his robes flaring behind him like a shadow trying to flee the light. Sera wasn’t about to let him vanish into the night.
She clenched her jaw and surged forward, leaving her spiritual weapon hovering in place behind her—a silent, glowing blade spinning lazily above the graves. Her boots pounded across the uneven ground as she gave chase, her cloak flaring and sunblade flickering with radiant heat in her grip.
Just as she began to close the distance, Merkas shouted out sharply from behind her:
“Don’t let that one get away! He's one of Tekel’s guys—he’s likely the one that knows the most!”
The warning only sharpened Sera’s resolve.
Ahead of her, blinking and razor sharp daggers hit true—Merkas’ daggers pinned into the cultist’s legs, sending him crashing down in a sprawl of limbs and startled pain. He gasped, trying to rise, but Sera was already there. ( Sera use Dash action to get just North of cultist white letting the spiritual weapon just hoover this turn)
She brought her sunblade around in a gleaming arc, golden light flaring through the misty graveyard night. The holy edge hissed with power—but at the last instant, she twisted her grip and pulled the strike short. Instead of ending him, her blade slammed with punishing force into his legs, burning through fabric and flesh alike. A scream tore from his throat as he crumpled, writhing in agony. ( using her divine gift of bonus action that is an attack on the prone cultist. Hits ac 27 with advantage and deals 10 radiant damage but try non-lethal )
The scent of scorched flesh filled the cold air.
Sera stepped over him, chest heaving, her silhouette lit from below by the glow of her weapon. The blade hovered now just at his neck, radiant and merciless.
“Surrender,” she growled, eyes hard with righteous fury, “or go to the Abyss as a miserable failure.” ( intimidation 12 )
Wheezing from running, and grimacing from the pain, Cult Member White spits at Sera's blade defiantely. It hisses as the blood-pinked saliva splatters onto your Flame Sword. He looks haggard, and running out of fight, but it's clear he is undaunted by your threats.
Ororana sprints forward to the fork in the path. She sees that Sera and Merkas have Cult Member White well in hand, and looks towards the Mauselum, still saprkling with purple energy. She looks through her pouch of potions for something to help. "Purple, purple, purple... That's illusion magic right?" She pulls out a bottle of black liquid with flecks of purple and pink swirls and shrugs... "This fight is costing me a fortune..." She drinks the bottle down and smacks her lips. "I did not expect that to taste good." Her eyes dilate until they're almost completely black, and her cornea turn pink.
"Be wary of mind tricks and illusions in that mauseleum!" she shouts back at Hastos. "Don't trust your eyes, and fortify your mind if you can. I don't have a spare bottle."
Sharn took a deep breath. At least for the length of the combat, cultist green would be down. He turned on his heel and took in the purple hues that surrounded the mausoleum. Rather than anger, or haste, he was filled by deep deep sadness. Until now, it could've been argued that the resting sites hadn't been disturbed by the cultists, at least during the fight. Now they disturbed the resting ground with magic.
He jogged forward towards the mausoleum, exhausted, he stepped inside. (Assuming I had enough movement tomake it to the cultist) There was no arguing or words, just blows. (19, 18, 11 and 9. Pretty sure the last two miss. 8 and 4 dmg non lethal.) The two hits were to the body, hoping to shock him into unconsciousness.
(If I couldn't make it, just ignore the attacks. Sharn would make it as close as possible and take the dodge action, and get ready for any incoming nonsense.)
Diving over the hedges, and landing softly in a graceful forward roll, Sharn is a blur of motion, sprinting towards the mauseleum with reckless haste, ignoring the pain racking his body with every step.
But as you enter the radius of sparkling purple sphere, you feel a wave of calmness come over you. Your muscles begin to relax. The pounding in your heart slows, as does your pace.
cheapjoke123 please roll a Charisma Check (DC 11) to resist the effects of Calm Emotions. With your emotions calmed, you will no longer be interested in completing your attack. I'll update the map based on your roll results.
Cult Member Blue takes two shots to the torso and doubles over stumbling backwards, air exploding from his lungs. But the backward stumbling seems exagerrated. He continues stumbling backwards, then falls, backward rolling into a secret door in the sarcophagus behind him!
You hear clicking and a snap as a lock seals the entrance after the panel swings shut behind him. With the summoner of the illusion gone, the sparkling purple diminishes and fades away.
Cult Member Blue Disengages.
Cult Member White, guessing what his compatriot has done, grants Sera a smug smile.
MrUncleTio, Hastos is up. In spite of the fact that you didn't move on your last turn, I think you still have certain abilities that would at least allow you to close the distance. The only accessible target remaining is Cult Member White, or you can enter the Mauseleum and attempt to figure out how to chase down Cult Member Blue.
Seeing that the obvious threats have been neutralized, Hastos charges towards the mausoleum. As he runs, he leaps into the air and his body vaporizes into a fine mist that swirls as it disipates. Almost immediately, there’s a puff of mist 30ft closer to the mausoleum where Hastos appears and lands. “I’ll see what’s going on in the crypt!” He yells out and he continues his run.
Hastos blinks into existance just ahead of Sharn, to see a dusty, worn-down mauseleum interior dimly lit with two candles perched framing an altar. The dim flickering light reveals a lonely sarcophagus and a haggard looking Sharn.
Cult Member White coughes a bit of blood and quickly rolls over, pulling his dagger as he does, sheathing it into his heart. As the light begins to fade from his eyes, he utters a final damning prophecy. "The labyrinth will open again, and you will all..." his last words fade into a gurgling sigh, and his falls falls into the the puddle of blood and soil.
With no visible enemies, you are now out of initiative. You each receive 3600 XP for the encounter. You acquire: - 3 Daggers (worth 2 Stl Each) - 1 In tact Cult Fanatic Robes (worth 1 Stl) - 2 Tattered Cult Fanatic Robes (unknown value) - 3 Holy Symbols of Sargonnas (worth 5 Stl each) - 1 In tact Leather Armor (worth 10 Stl) - 1 Tattered Leather Armor (can be mended to be worth 10 Stl)
The art I found for the sarcophagas is a bit shorter than I want it to be. Assume it stands high enough for a medium sized creature to rest their hands on the lid while standing without needing to bend over. So about 4 feet high.
Ororana trots up to Cult Member White and pulls his head out of the mud. "Uh ohhhhhh...." she gasps softly and looks at Sera with clear concern on her pace. "Babe... this is bad."
Sharn took a couple of steps back and quickly scanned the quieting battlefield. He was tired, exhausted, but there was too much left to do.
"Could someone disarm and put the unconscious cultist in custody? Some rope might do the trick, but you never know. One of them escaped down into this mausoleum. I don't know how to open it, but there must be a mechanism!"
Sera watched grimly as the cultist took the coward’s escape—plunging a blade into his own chest rather than face capture. His last breath was spent muttering something cryptic… an unfinished prophecy about a labyrinth soon to open.
She shook her head, her tone dry with bitter sarcasm as she looked down at his body. "Such courage. I'm sure you'll be very welcome wherever you're headed in the afterlife."
Before she could dwell further, Ororana sauntered up beside her, all long legs and half-buttoned allure, her damp, sheer garments clinging like a second skin. The flirty elf took a peek at the corpse, arched a brow, and gave a dramatic little shiver.
" babe… this is bad." Her voice full of consern.
Sera blinked at the word babe but let a half-smile twitch onto her lips. She didn’t quite see herself that way—knight, sure. ‘Babe’? That was more Amber’s territory. Still, it was a strange kind of comfort. Even if she couldn’t be flirty right now, it was nice to feel noticed.
Her smile faded quickly, though, and she turned serious. "How exactly is it worse now? I thought it was already pretty bad. What’s going on inside the mausoleum?"
Ororana gave a small, uncertain shrug, her usual confidence dimmed. Sera didn’t wait—she strode across the cracked graveyard stone toward the yawning mausoleum. The shadows inside were thick, almost oily, and cold air seemed to breathe out from the entrance. The last cultist had gone in here—and vanished.
Sharn and Hastos were already combing the space for hidden doors or magical tricks. Probably trying to beat the next bad surprise.
Sera turned back to Ororana, eyeing her curvaceous silhouette outlined in the graveyard moonlight.
"You got some rope, by chance?" she asked, nodding to the one cultist they’d managed to knock out. "We should tie him up before he decides to grow a spine and copy his friend’s stunt."
Ororana shakes her head, her previously braided and styled curls bouncing loosely in the moonlight. "I got ready in a hurry, I could get some rope from my house, but they're more... recreational in nature. I tend to not take prisoners. I have a sack of potions on me." She fumbles with her pouch to find something useful while she continues talking, "But that cultist? He's one of Tekel's boys. And he has a lot of influence in this town. His death could put a bounty on all our heads. I don't normally suggest this, but we should hide the bodies, and hunt down the one who escaped before he can talk. When the council finds out that guards working for Santekh have been murdered, there will be an investigation. Especially over that guy." She looks back at the lifeless form of Cult Fanatic White. "He was a general in Tekel's guild. A real scumbag who tended to bully and extort the refugees, but a general nonetheless."
She pulls out a small vial with a red lace wrapped around it. "This is all I've got. Poison. I save it in case I'm captured. It won't bind him... but it will make it so he can't escape... ever again."
Ororana jiggles the Potion of Poison in her hand, letting the fluids slosh around in the vial.
After saying her piece, she shakes her arms and hands, and lets out a calming breath, obviously rattled. Combat is one thing, but politics clearly unnerves her. She's in good standing with the council, and has an ongoing bounty for Dragon Army heads. Being party to this could end that, and risk her freedom... something that seems to shake her nerves far worse than the risk of death ever could.
Coming up to the body, a little disappointed "Out with it Oreo, who is this guy and why is it so important we avoid letting the town know that this guys was both part of the cult and attacked us?" He goes about collecting his daggers, and the daggers from the others. As he places the daggers into his pack as he pulls out the rope out and gives it to Sera. "About getting to the other guy just means we need to get into that secret door or whatever it is in that mausoleum, you said something about have a potion to keep your mind clear? Maybe it be good if you go look around there, because if that place has some sorta mind altering affect then you might be able to see some guy hiding in a corner making us think he took off."
Coming up to the body, a little disappointed "Out with it Oreo, who is this guy and why is it so important we avoid letting the town know that this guys was both part of the cult and attacked us?" He goes about collecting his daggers, and the daggers from the others. As he places the daggers into his pack as he pulls out the rope out and gives it to Sera. "About getting to the other guy just means we need to get into that secret door or whatever it is in that mausoleum, you said something about have a potion to keep your mind clear? Maybe it be good if you go look around there, because if that place has some sorta mind altering affect then you might be able to see some guy hiding in a corner making us think he took off."
Ororana smiles at the little kender. "Santekh was built on idealism and fervor... that leaves blindspots for corruption. People get eager to take any assistance they can. Not to be cynical, but most of the council are too idealistic to see what's happening right in front of them, or may choose not to see, if it helps their cause." She shrugs. "Besides, servants of Sargonnas, in their own way, are trying to help Santekh. Not all of them are bad people. Just hurt, lost, and angry. So was I, for years. That's why I, too, was in a death cult. It took years to get out, and I barely made it out alive. I use what I learned to hunt Dragon Army soldiers." She smirks. "The council probably didn't support whatever was going on in this graveyard, but they may have chosen to condone it. Seems awfully convenient timing that the whole town is getting plastered and dancing while... whatever these cultists were doing... was happening in an otherwise highly visible area."
She pats Merkas on the shoulder. "Ever been so angry... so helpless and desperate, that you'd do anything to get revenge? Even sell your soul?" She points at The Laughing Dwarf. "That's all of Santekh, sugar. Pretty much everyone in this town would gladly die to see their homes, their families, their cultures, and their childhoods aveneged. And that's the Sargonnas playbook. He finds people like that and offers promises of power to avenge what they've lost."
She moves over to the sarcophagus. "I took a potion of Psionic Fortitude. It just protects me from being charmed or stunned, and it was my most expensive potion. It wasn't the best potion for resisting illusions, but it was all I had on me. I can take a look though."
While she studies the mechanism, she continues her exposition. "I stay out of politcs these days. Collecting heads is dirty work, but at least it's straight-forward. I don't know if Tekel knows his boys are cult members or not... he's kind of what I call a pretty idiot." She sighs, thinking about those silver eyes. "He probably just recruited the roughest, toughest bastards he could find this side of Krynn so he could build his army quickly. But whether he knows or not, my guess is that a scandal like this will make him lose face. And Tekel won't like that. He'll bury this, and burn whoever tries to uncover it. You're new... a guild of what? Four people? Last I checked, he's got about fifty soldiers, and he's always recruiting. Joining his army is the quickest way to get the best rations and armaments. Those with the strength and will to fight usually end up in Tekel's ranks, so applicants will be streaming in now that there are supplies to be gained. He's got the money, the numbers, and the influence to ruin your guild and have you exiled or worse. All he needs is a crime to pin on you. Ah!"
She smiles, as she finds the seam. The trap door is well-made, though. And while she runs her fingers along the length of it, the smile fades. "You'd have better luck with a maul than a lockpick. This things locked and barred tight from the inside. I think we're going to need to desecrate this grave. We can try the nice way, and just lift the lid, or we can smash through this door. Any objections?"
Sera stood quietly while Ororana laid out the grim truth—how Tekel held power in Santech, and how the cultists tied to him weren’t just scattered fanatics, but part of his private little army. That gave them more than just danger. It gave them influence. Protection. Reach.
Still, she let the flirty elf search, watching her movements with a warrior’s eye more than a romantic one now. Ororana’s keen fingers soon uncovered a hidden seam—part of the sarcophagus lid cleverly concealing a trapdoor beneath.
Lifting it by hand would be difficult. Smashing it was the other option. It always was.
Sera’s voice came low but clear. "Ororana."
The elf glanced up.
"Meeting corruption and evil with deceit and more evil... that’s not my way. It’s not Paladine’s way. We’re not going to poison the prisoner to silence him."
Ororana didn’t immediately argue—but her expression tightened.
"I won’t back down from what I am," Sera continued, stepping slowly forward. "Justice. Good. And if some of Sargonnas’ followers fight for a better world, fine. I won’t stop them—if they truly make it better. But look around. We’ve all lost something. We’ve all seen the cruelty these evil gods leave in their wake."
She paused, letting her words sink in.
"You want revenge. The people here sell their souls to get revenge delivered by a evil god. Maybe you and they think it’s justice and helps. But it won’t stop the pain. It just spreads it. I’m not here to convert you or anyone, Ororana—but I’m showing and acting out something else. A way to live. Thrive. Move on. With mercy, forgivness and justice. Paldine is a god of Redemtion. I show people they need Not sink into the same spiral that made us victims in the first place."
She stepped closer, voice low and solemn.
"I won’t hide. I won’t lie. And if standing in the open gets me crushed, then so be it. If Tekel truly doesn’t know the evil growing under his roof, then he deserves a chance to see me—what I fight for. What I stand for. Loyalty. Honesty. And the hope that something better is still possible. instead of evil cultist sneaking under his nose"
Then, without breaking eye contact, she gently took the vial of poison from Ororana’s hand—and smashed it against the cold stone floor.
Glass shattered. Silence stretched.
"And when your time comes—and it will, as it will for all of us—go to the afterlife knowing you didn’t take the coward’s way. Let them say, ‘Ororana fought her worst fear and kept fighting until her last breath' Let them tell stories about your courage. Not whispers about how you gave up."
She turned from the bounty hunter woman, knowing full well her words might wound. Might inflame. Might inspire. But they were truth. And they were spoken with love for what could be, not what was.
Raising her shield—the sharp, steel-edged tip like a pickaxe—she looked to the others.
"This can open the sarcophagus. But only if we all agree. Are we ready to see what they buried under our feet?"
Ororana reached out as Sera throws the poison down and starts to grunt a protest, then groans a low "ahhhhhhh" sound as the poison dribbles into the cracks on the floor. "100 f*cking gold pieces..." She puts her hands on her knees and rises slowly, then shakes out the last of her loosened braids with her hands to let her bouncy curls fly wild, then smirks in spite of her frustration at how expensive this night is getting. She hoists her axe and rests it on her shoulder. Then, she places her free hand on her hip.
"Clerics..." she huffs with a chuckle. "You're all pains in the ass. You know that, right? But you've got spirit, and I respect that. Smash away, babe."
Merkas proceeds tie up the one unconscious cult member and proceeds to search over the bodies (investigation - 19, looking for anything that might give hints to the door Sera dispelled or the one they are trying to enter). As he does he says to Sharn “Best drag this guy in there with the loud ones smashing bottles, please check over the knots, don’t want to have the same thing as happened last time I tied one of these guys up”
After searching the bodies he stops and looks around, his eyes go wide as he heads back to where the door was dispelled and the cultist it cut in half as it collapsed. “Almost forgot about you, sorry it went like that, we’re really not trying to kill any one, well most of us aren’t, can’t speak as to the motives of the extras that join us sometimes.” Once finished he starts dragging the half man towards the Mausoleum. “Welp, best get back, you seem the lightest at the moment so we’ll go back first, hoping we get to have you guys buried properly, even though the lady there never actually told me who any of you were, despite the clear questions, you think that happens to a lot of people or is it just me?”
Back in the building with the rest he rests the deceased in a corner as he hears the complaint of Ororana about the cost of the poison. “Here” he says as he walks up behind her, digs out ten steel coins and hands them over. “Aint much good if there aint nothin to buy anyway. So hows about figuring out this door” (18 Sleight of Hand to sort out the mechanism on the secret entrance)
Stands in a wild fight with a cultist and hears Hastos comments. Give him a sideway glance " are you joking! last cultist ran up and some shit happening in the masuleum..." then she focus back to defeat cultist white...
While Hastos explodes into action, Cult Member White grunts painfully as the javelin pierces his hip, ripping through his clothing and embedding itself in the dessicated earth behind him. The violent death of his comrade and the rising number of enemies presents daunting odds. Seeing no other recourse, he withdraws with haste, dashing through the brambles and weeds that tear and scrape at the fabric of his robe.
Cult Member White takes the Disengage Action
Cult Member White is Bloodied.
Hrothbert_Neruca Merkas is up.
Battle Map (Full View):
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, seeing the white cultist turn to run, slides one of the javelins out of his pack as he runs to cover as much ground between the two of them as possible. Taking a side step, Hastos grunts as he releases the javelin high into the air at the fleeing cultist. Hastos continues running toward Sera’s position as the javelin finds its mark.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
"Don't let that one get away, he's one of Tekels guys, he's likely the one that knows the most!" The diminutive blue halfling starts chasing down the Cultist(white), his prey runs behind the hedgerow around the graveyard. Merkas gauges the speed he's moving at and starts jumping off the top of the tombstones and a tomb to bound over the hedge and catch up to the cultist. (Acrobatics = 13).
"You got some 'splaining to do mister, I'm not letting you get away! Watching the cultists gait as he catches up, Merkas notices his bloody robe. (Medicine = 9 - hp of enemy)
As soon as he gets within range, Merkas throws his daggers and aims at the first available target, the hamstrings of the fleeing feet that so conveniently are right in his face at regular intervals. Lashing out to slow down the retreating enemy, Splinter and Shard reach out to sever his enemies tendons. (20 - to hit, 5 slashing damage, two weapon fighting 24 - to hit, 2 slashing damage) "Just stop running and I will stop cutting!"
Loyalty Begets Honour
Shtk, shtk! The daggers plunge into Cult Member White's hamstrings and he falls to the ground with a pained yelp. He looks back at the daggers embedded into his legs and sucks air between his teeth as he tries to address the wounds.
Round 3 Initiative:
Larskolstad, Sera is up!
Battle Map:
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 cultist broke into a panicked sprint, his robes flaring behind him like a shadow trying to flee the light. Sera wasn’t about to let him vanish into the night.
She clenched her jaw and surged forward, leaving her spiritual weapon hovering in place behind her—a silent, glowing blade spinning lazily above the graves. Her boots pounded across the uneven ground as she gave chase, her cloak flaring and sunblade flickering with radiant heat in her grip.
Just as she began to close the distance, Merkas shouted out sharply from behind her:
The warning only sharpened Sera’s resolve.
Ahead of her, blinking and razor sharp daggers hit true—Merkas’ daggers pinned into the cultist’s legs, sending him crashing down in a sprawl of limbs and startled pain. He gasped, trying to rise, but Sera was already there.
( Sera use Dash action to get just North of cultist white letting the spiritual weapon just hoover this turn)
She brought her sunblade around in a gleaming arc, golden light flaring through the misty graveyard night. The holy edge hissed with power—but at the last instant, she twisted her grip and pulled the strike short. Instead of ending him, her blade slammed with punishing force into his legs, burning through fabric and flesh alike. A scream tore from his throat as he crumpled, writhing in agony.
( using her divine gift of bonus action that is an attack on the prone cultist. Hits ac 27 with advantage and deals 10 radiant damage but try non-lethal )
The scent of scorched flesh filled the cold air.
Sera stepped over him, chest heaving, her silhouette lit from below by the glow of her weapon. The blade hovered now just at his neck, radiant and merciless.
“Surrender,” she growled, eyes hard with righteous fury, “or go to the Abyss as a miserable failure.” ( intimidation 12 )
Wheezing from running, and grimacing from the pain, Cult Member White spits at Sera's blade defiantely. It hisses as the blood-pinked saliva splatters onto your Flame Sword. He looks haggard, and running out of fight, but it's clear he is undaunted by your threats.
Ororana sprints forward to the fork in the path. She sees that Sera and Merkas have Cult Member White well in hand, and looks towards the Mauselum, still saprkling with purple energy. She looks through her pouch of potions for something to help. "Purple, purple, purple... That's illusion magic right?" She pulls out a bottle of black liquid with flecks of purple and pink swirls and shrugs... "This fight is costing me a fortune..." She drinks the bottle down and smacks her lips. "I did not expect that to taste good." Her eyes dilate until they're almost completely black, and her cornea turn pink.
"Be wary of mind tricks and illusions in that mauseleum!" she shouts back at Hastos. "Don't trust your eyes, and fortify your mind if you can. I don't have a spare bottle."
cheapjoke123 Sharn is up.
Battle Map:
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
Sharn took a deep breath. At least for the length of the combat, cultist green would be down. He turned on his heel and took in the purple hues that surrounded the mausoleum. Rather than anger, or haste, he was filled by deep deep sadness. Until now, it could've been argued that the resting sites hadn't been disturbed by the cultists, at least during the fight. Now they disturbed the resting ground with magic.
He jogged forward towards the mausoleum, exhausted, he stepped inside. (Assuming I had enough movement tomake it to the cultist) There was no arguing or words, just blows. (19, 18, 11 and 9. Pretty sure the last two miss. 8 and 4 dmg non lethal.) The two hits were to the body, hoping to shock him into unconsciousness.
(If I couldn't make it, just ignore the attacks. Sharn would make it as close as possible and take the dodge action, and get ready for any incoming nonsense.)
Diving over the hedges, and landing softly in a graceful forward roll, Sharn is a blur of motion, sprinting towards the mauseleum with reckless haste, ignoring the pain racking his body with every step.
But as you enter the radius of sparkling purple sphere, you feel a wave of calmness come over you. Your muscles begin to relax. The pounding in your heart slows, as does your pace.
cheapjoke123 please roll a Charisma Check (DC 11) to resist the effects of Calm Emotions. With your emotions calmed, you will no longer be interested in completing your attack.
I'll update the map based on your roll results.
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
Cult Member Blue takes two shots to the torso and doubles over stumbling backwards, air exploding from his lungs. But the backward stumbling seems exagerrated. He continues stumbling backwards, then falls, backward rolling into a secret door in the sarcophagus behind him!
You hear clicking and a snap as a lock seals the entrance after the panel swings shut behind him. With the summoner of the illusion gone, the sparkling purple diminishes and fades away.
Cult Member Blue Disengages.
Cult Member White, guessing what his compatriot has done, grants Sera a smug smile.
MrUncleTio, Hastos is up. In spite of the fact that you didn't move on your last turn, I think you still have certain abilities that would at least allow you to close the distance.
The only accessible target remaining is Cult Member White, or you can enter the Mauseleum and attempt to figure out how to chase down Cult Member Blue.
Battle Map:
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
Seeing that the obvious threats have been neutralized, Hastos charges towards the mausoleum. As he runs, he leaps into the air and his body vaporizes into a fine mist that swirls as it disipates. Almost immediately, there’s a puff of mist 30ft closer to the mausoleum where Hastos appears and lands. “I’ll see what’s going on in the crypt!” He yells out and he continues his run.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Hastos blinks into existance just ahead of Sharn, to see a dusty, worn-down mauseleum interior dimly lit with two candles perched framing an altar. The dim flickering light reveals a lonely sarcophagus and a haggard looking Sharn.
Cult Member White coughes a bit of blood and quickly rolls over, pulling his dagger as he does, sheathing it into his heart. As the light begins to fade from his eyes, he utters a final damning prophecy. "The labyrinth will open again, and you will all..." his last words fade into a gurgling sigh, and his falls falls into the the puddle of blood and soil.
With no visible enemies, you are now out of initiative.
You each receive 3600 XP for the encounter.
You acquire:
- 3 Daggers (worth 2 Stl Each)
- 1 In tact Cult Fanatic Robes (worth 1 Stl)
- 2 Tattered Cult Fanatic Robes (unknown value)
- 3 Holy Symbols of Sargonnas (worth 5 Stl each)
- 1 In tact Leather Armor (worth 10 Stl)
- 1 Tattered Leather Armor (can be mended to be worth 10 Stl)
The art I found for the sarcophagas is a bit shorter than I want it to be. Assume it stands high enough for a medium sized creature to rest their hands on the lid while standing without needing to bend over. So about 4 feet high.
Ororana trots up to Cult Member White and pulls his head out of the mud. "Uh ohhhhhh...." she gasps softly and looks at Sera with clear concern on her pace. "Babe... this is bad."
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
Sharn took a couple of steps back and quickly scanned the quieting battlefield. He was tired, exhausted, but there was too much left to do.
"Could someone disarm and put the unconscious cultist in custody? Some rope might do the trick, but you never know. One of them escaped down into this mausoleum. I don't know how to open it, but there must be a mechanism!"
Sera watched grimly as the cultist took the coward’s escape—plunging a blade into his own chest rather than face capture. His last breath was spent muttering something cryptic… an unfinished prophecy about a labyrinth soon to open.
She shook her head, her tone dry with bitter sarcasm as she looked down at his body.
"Such courage. I'm sure you'll be very welcome wherever you're headed in the afterlife."
Before she could dwell further, Ororana sauntered up beside her, all long legs and half-buttoned allure, her damp, sheer garments clinging like a second skin. The flirty elf took a peek at the corpse, arched a brow, and gave a dramatic little shiver.
" babe… this is bad." Her voice full of consern.
Sera blinked at the word babe but let a half-smile twitch onto her lips. She didn’t quite see herself that way—knight, sure. ‘Babe’? That was more Amber’s territory. Still, it was a strange kind of comfort. Even if she couldn’t be flirty right now, it was nice to feel noticed.
Her smile faded quickly, though, and she turned serious.
"How exactly is it worse now? I thought it was already pretty bad. What’s going on inside the mausoleum?"
Ororana gave a small, uncertain shrug, her usual confidence dimmed. Sera didn’t wait—she strode across the cracked graveyard stone toward the yawning mausoleum. The shadows inside were thick, almost oily, and cold air seemed to breathe out from the entrance. The last cultist had gone in here—and vanished.
Sharn and Hastos were already combing the space for hidden doors or magical tricks. Probably trying to beat the next bad surprise.
Sera turned back to Ororana, eyeing her curvaceous silhouette outlined in the graveyard moonlight.
"You got some rope, by chance?" she asked, nodding to the one cultist they’d managed to knock out. "We should tie him up before he decides to grow a spine and copy his friend’s stunt."
Ororana shakes her head, her previously braided and styled curls bouncing loosely in the moonlight. "I got ready in a hurry, I could get some rope from my house, but they're more... recreational in nature. I tend to not take prisoners. I have a sack of potions on me." She fumbles with her pouch to find something useful while she continues talking, "But that cultist? He's one of Tekel's boys. And he has a lot of influence in this town. His death could put a bounty on all our heads. I don't normally suggest this, but we should hide the bodies, and hunt down the one who escaped before he can talk. When the council finds out that guards working for Santekh have been murdered, there will be an investigation. Especially over that guy." She looks back at the lifeless form of Cult Fanatic White. "He was a general in Tekel's guild. A real scumbag who tended to bully and extort the refugees, but a general nonetheless."
She pulls out a small vial with a red lace wrapped around it. "This is all I've got. Poison. I save it in case I'm captured. It won't bind him... but it will make it so he can't escape... ever again."
Ororana jiggles the Potion of Poison in her hand, letting the fluids slosh around in the vial.
After saying her piece, she shakes her arms and hands, and lets out a calming breath, obviously rattled. Combat is one thing, but politics clearly unnerves her. She's in good standing with the council, and has an ongoing bounty for Dragon Army heads. Being party to this could end that, and risk her freedom... something that seems to shake her nerves far worse than the risk of death ever could.
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
Coming up to the body, a little disappointed "Out with it Oreo, who is this guy and why is it so important we avoid letting the town know that this guys was both part of the cult and attacked us?"
He goes about collecting his daggers, and the daggers from the others. As he places the daggers into his pack as he pulls out the rope out and gives it to Sera.
"About getting to the other guy just means we need to get into that secret door or whatever it is in that mausoleum, you said something about have a potion to keep your mind clear? Maybe it be good if you go look around there, because if that place has some sorta mind altering affect then you might be able to see some guy hiding in a corner making us think he took off."
Loyalty Begets Honour
Ororana smiles at the little kender. "Santekh was built on idealism and fervor... that leaves blindspots for corruption. People get eager to take any assistance they can. Not to be cynical, but most of the council are too idealistic to see what's happening right in front of them, or may choose not to see, if it helps their cause." She shrugs. "Besides, servants of Sargonnas, in their own way, are trying to help Santekh. Not all of them are bad people. Just hurt, lost, and angry. So was I, for years. That's why I, too, was in a death cult. It took years to get out, and I barely made it out alive. I use what I learned to hunt Dragon Army soldiers." She smirks. "The council probably didn't support whatever was going on in this graveyard, but they may have chosen to condone it. Seems awfully convenient timing that the whole town is getting plastered and dancing while... whatever these cultists were doing... was happening in an otherwise highly visible area."
She pats Merkas on the shoulder. "Ever been so angry... so helpless and desperate, that you'd do anything to get revenge? Even sell your soul?" She points at The Laughing Dwarf. "That's all of Santekh, sugar. Pretty much everyone in this town would gladly die to see their homes, their families, their cultures, and their childhoods aveneged. And that's the Sargonnas playbook. He finds people like that and offers promises of power to avenge what they've lost."
She moves over to the sarcophagus. "I took a potion of Psionic Fortitude. It just protects me from being charmed or stunned, and it was my most expensive potion. It wasn't the best potion for resisting illusions, but it was all I had on me. I can take a look though."
While she studies the mechanism, she continues her exposition. "I stay out of politcs these days. Collecting heads is dirty work, but at least it's straight-forward. I don't know if Tekel knows his boys are cult members or not... he's kind of what I call a pretty idiot." She sighs, thinking about those silver eyes. "He probably just recruited the roughest, toughest bastards he could find this side of Krynn so he could build his army quickly. But whether he knows or not, my guess is that a scandal like this will make him lose face. And Tekel won't like that. He'll bury this, and burn whoever tries to uncover it. You're new... a guild of what? Four people? Last I checked, he's got about fifty soldiers, and he's always recruiting. Joining his army is the quickest way to get the best rations and armaments. Those with the strength and will to fight usually end up in Tekel's ranks, so applicants will be streaming in now that there are supplies to be gained. He's got the money, the numbers, and the influence to ruin your guild and have you exiled or worse. All he needs is a crime to pin on you. Ah!"
She smiles, as she finds the seam. The trap door is well-made, though. And while she runs her fingers along the length of it, the smile fades. "You'd have better luck with a maul than a lockpick. This things locked and barred tight from the inside. I think we're going to need to desecrate this grave. We can try the nice way, and just lift the lid, or we can smash through this door. Any objections?"
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
Sera stood quietly while Ororana laid out the grim truth—how Tekel held power in Santech, and how the cultists tied to him weren’t just scattered fanatics, but part of his private little army. That gave them more than just danger. It gave them influence. Protection. Reach.
Still, she let the flirty elf search, watching her movements with a warrior’s eye more than a romantic one now. Ororana’s keen fingers soon uncovered a hidden seam—part of the sarcophagus lid cleverly concealing a trapdoor beneath.
Lifting it by hand would be difficult. Smashing it was the other option. It always was.
Sera’s voice came low but clear.
"Ororana."
The elf glanced up.
"Meeting corruption and evil with deceit and more evil... that’s not my way. It’s not Paladine’s way. We’re not going to poison the prisoner to silence him."
Ororana didn’t immediately argue—but her expression tightened.
"I won’t back down from what I am," Sera continued, stepping slowly forward. "Justice. Good. And if some of Sargonnas’ followers fight for a better world, fine. I won’t stop them—if they truly make it better. But look around. We’ve all lost something. We’ve all seen the cruelty these evil gods leave in their wake."
She paused, letting her words sink in.
"You want revenge. The people here sell their souls to get revenge delivered by a evil god. Maybe you and they think it’s justice and helps. But it won’t stop the pain. It just spreads it. I’m not here to convert you or anyone, Ororana—but I’m showing and acting out something else. A way to live. Thrive. Move on. With mercy, forgivness and justice. Paldine is a god of Redemtion. I show people they need Not sink into the same spiral that made us victims in the first place."
She stepped closer, voice low and solemn.
"I won’t hide. I won’t lie. And if standing in the open gets me crushed, then so be it. If Tekel truly doesn’t know the evil growing under his roof, then he deserves a chance to see me—what I fight for. What I stand for. Loyalty. Honesty. And the hope that something better is still possible. instead of evil cultist sneaking under his nose"
Then, without breaking eye contact, she gently took the vial of poison from Ororana’s hand—and smashed it against the cold stone floor.
Glass shattered. Silence stretched.
"And when your time comes—and it will, as it will for all of us—go to the afterlife knowing you didn’t take the coward’s way. Let them say, ‘Ororana fought her worst fear and kept fighting until her last breath' Let them tell stories about your courage. Not whispers about how you gave up."
She turned from the bounty hunter woman, knowing full well her words might wound. Might inflame. Might inspire. But they were truth. And they were spoken with love for what could be, not what was.
Raising her shield—the sharp, steel-edged tip like a pickaxe—she looked to the others.
"This can open the sarcophagus. But only if we all agree. Are we ready to see what they buried under our feet?"
Ororana reached out as Sera throws the poison down and starts to grunt a protest, then groans a low "ahhhhhhh" sound as the poison dribbles into the cracks on the floor. "100 f*cking gold pieces..." She puts her hands on her knees and rises slowly, then shakes out the last of her loosened braids with her hands to let her bouncy curls fly wild, then smirks in spite of her frustration at how expensive this night is getting. She hoists her axe and rests it on her shoulder. Then, she places her free hand on her hip.
"Clerics..." she huffs with a chuckle. "You're all pains in the ass. You know that, right? But you've got spirit, and I respect that. Smash away, babe."
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
Merkas proceeds tie up the one unconscious cult member and proceeds to search over the bodies (investigation - 19, looking for anything that might give hints to the door Sera dispelled or the one they are trying to enter). As he does he says to Sharn “Best drag this guy in there with the loud ones smashing bottles, please check over the knots, don’t want to have the same thing as happened last time I tied one of these guys up”
After searching the bodies he stops and looks around, his eyes go wide as he heads back to where the door was dispelled and the cultist it cut in half as it collapsed. “Almost forgot about you, sorry it went like that, we’re really not trying to kill any one, well most of us aren’t, can’t speak as to the motives of the extras that join us sometimes.” Once finished he starts dragging the half man towards the Mausoleum. “Welp, best get back, you seem the lightest at the moment so we’ll go back first, hoping we get to have you guys buried properly, even though the lady there never actually told me who any of you were, despite the clear questions, you think that happens to a lot of people or is it just me?”
Back in the building with the rest he rests the deceased in a corner as he hears the complaint of Ororana about the cost of the poison. “Here” he says as he walks up behind her, digs out ten steel coins and hands them over. “Aint much good if there aint nothin to buy anyway. So hows about figuring out this door” (18 Sleight of Hand to sort out the mechanism on the secret entrance)
Loyalty Begets Honour