Once again, one of the spikes lands, penetrating Zevriel's left thigh. Our hero seems to be on his last leg—it's clear he needs to finish this fight quickly...
Zev doesn’t let the beast buy space for free. As Drondur skews away, he steps with it and snaps a hard slash across the ribs, blade carving deep before he lets the momentum carry him forward again.
He closes the gap slowly and visibly in pain, but sets his feet nevertheless, and kicks the twinblade into a tight, circling guard—steel humming around him like a sawblade—then whips a second cut in under the shoulder. He stays inside the tail’s line, weight light on his toes, ready to slip and answer whatever the monster throws back.
Reaction: hits 22 for 10 damage plus 5 sneak plus 8 precise strike Move: into melee Bonus: Whirl dex 1o for 1AC, attack that hits AC 14 for 5 damage plus 9 sneak Action: attack hits AC 9
New Reaction (if he gets attacked, whether hit or miss, or the manticore flees): hits AC 15 for 8 damage plus 10 sneak
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sorry, I'm on vacation and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
Urged on with unwavering courage by Zevriel, the Manticore suffers new wounds to its flanks and seems to be able to stand on its legs by sheer miracle.
Although the hero also seems on the verge of collapse, the monster lacks the motivation and ardor to risk its life to the very end. Drondur thus ceases hostilities and, with a dark look, comments: "All right, I'm not that hungry. I'll save you for next time. You win".
Gratz! Combat won! You can act outside of the rounds again now.
"Their champion is on the verge of collapsing, now" one of the Lords from Below suggests to Mekkunod. "Why give them the cloak? If we attack them all together now, we can easily kill them all."
But the ambassador shakes his head in denial: "No, they'll be more useful to us alive. We'll stick to the agreement. What they do for us will probably make Thetis' absence effectively irrelevant."
"It goes without saying, Thetis, that if you attack us as soon as you get your mantle back, we'll be forced to defend ourselves..." Mekkunod holds out the mantle to Thetis. "The past is forgotten; all right, Thetis?"
"The pleasure of regaining my freedom will be greater than any pleasure revenge could bring me, Mekkunod!" the girl in the skimpy shell dress assures.
Mekkunodd stares at her for a few moments - then, convinced, gives her the mantle.
Thetis takes it and puts it on with a delighted squeal, then runs to Zevriel: "Thank you, my hero! Thank you! I will never forget what you risked for me!"
Drondur, meanwhile, takes flight, presumably heading for his lair to recover from the hard-fought battle.
Mekkunodd, meanwhile, addresses the entire party: "It seems everyone has gotten what they wanted. But there's still one way to make things even better. You're about to return to the hamlet, Rassalantar, right? A hamlet that adventurers often pass through on their way here, looking for monsters to slay and treasures to steal. But what if, upon returning, you reported having explored the ruins completely (as you have), looted all the treasures and killed all the monsters? I think the adventurers would then stop coming here—they'd have nothing interesting to do or find here. We could live in peace. And the adventurers wouldn't risk being killed in stupid accidents. It would be a win-win situation for everyone. What do you think?"
Zev keeps his stance until the last black pinfeather vanishes over the rooftops. Only then does he let the breath hiss out of him, blade drooping, shoulders tight with pain and stubborn pride. When Thetis rushes in, he catches himself before he flinches, easing the twinblade down so it doesn’t nick her. He gives her a small, crooked half-smile and a knight’s nod.
“Easy now,” he says, voice low and rough. “Keep your heart close next time. Folks who take what isn’t theirs don’t change because you wish it.”
He straightens, turns a hard look on the one who’d argued for cutting them down, letting the silence bite sharper than steel. To Mekkunod, he shakes his head once—tired, clear. 'I won’t carry a lie to the village,' he thinks to himself simply. 'Nor a war. I’ll let Mival decide, and be gone.' His eyes narrow a fraction, as if remembering who here can skim the top of a man’s thoughts; he smooths his face and fixes on his breathing, one beat at a time, the way a fighter keeps fear on a short leash. Then he stoops, picks up his blade, and adds:
“I’ll bind this wound, sit a moment, and then I’m for Rassalantar. If that’s all.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sorry, I'm on vacation and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
As if Mekkunod had read reluctance in the party's thoughts, he leaves one final reflection before returning to the lair with the other Lords from Below: "The truth is honorable, but it doesn't always bear the best fruits. It really think it would be best to do everything possible to ensure that our presence continues to be ignored by the people in Rassalantar. If we were ever discovered, mistrust could arise. From mistrust could arise persecution. From persecution, we would be forced to defend ourselves — and war could develop. And a war would bring pain and discomfort to both sides. Most of all to Blossom, who trusts you enough to return to the humans with you, rather than remain with us — but if it came to a 'doppelganger hunt,' do you think the humans would be understanding of Blossom? Or isn't it easier for him, so torn between the two factions, to become... the first victim?"
Alone, our heroes are free to return! The journey back to the surface (and, later, the hamlet) is uneventful. And so it is, when our heroes finally return...
The tanned woman is working in front of her house, in the light of the sweet Ches sun, with sure and decisive movements of her expert hands, which are replacing a broken spoke on a disassembled wagon wheel in front of her.
She finishes removing the stumps of the now unusable spoke and chooses one of the right size to replace it. Before inserting the new spoke, her gaze runs for the umpteenth time to the forest, the natural curtain of trees that has fallen on the tragedy of her life. The disappearance of her son.
Her son!?
Despite the distance, Kara 'Tarsakh Flower' Sashar's eyes immediately spot and recognize the figure that has emerged from the woods! The new spoke falls momentarily forgotten, while the woman bursts into a run worthy of the little girl she had been twenty years ago.
Mival... Mival was walking with an uncertain, embarrassed smile... Mival had left fearing to hurt his mother—and now that he was returning he felt the weight of the knowledge of having cruelly hurt her anyway. Mival, the boy, the doppelganger, the monster who chose to cling to his own humanity, had not yet decided what words to say to begin to explain...
Then he sees her. He sees her running towards him. He has never seen her so happy. And then he runs too, instantly understanding that words are no longer needed. They literally fly into each other's arms. Are they saying something? Are they whispering something, those faces so close that they are almost one indistinguishable? Or are they communicating with a form of telepathy even more primal and powerful than the doppelgangers' mind-reading powers?
After an indefinite and indefinable time, the two separate... they dry their tears of emotion with each other... They still have much to say to each other... and yet she smiles and simply says: "Come" offering him her hand.
"Yes," he takes it.
And they set off towards home.
"As for you," Kara smiles brightly at the adventurers before entering "I consider myself your eternal debtor! The thing I do best is repair wagons and their wheels—but if you ever need anything, anything at all, just tell me and I'll do everything I can to help you."
Meanwhile, Khelbluen and Rocksaucers, seemingly embarrassed, appear to be torn between their desire to follow Mival inside and a sort of hesitation about doing so without being explicitly invited.
Tarysaa was silent as 'Blossom' reunited with his mother. It tugged at the heart in it's own way but, she had to focus on what came next.
The quest was complete, but the cost was etched into the groups' weary faces. The 'boy' was found and returned to his family. An ancient artifact, a wedding ring, was returned and allowed a restless spirit to rest. Even Thetis was 'saved' which was surprising. The 'world' was saved, yes, but not without leaving so many questions unanswered. Her report to the Harpells would have more questions than answers.
All this bouncing about in her head as she watched the reunion and veered toward to stables to check on her mount.
Meanwhile, Zevriel has reached the Sleeping Dragon Inn, looking for Ghesh, the Dragonborn with those scales whose color, now that our hero thinks about it, resembles what Nesurentul's scales had.
The sage does not seem to be there, initially ... but Zevriel, in turning to go out and looking for him elsewhere, finds him suddenly at his back. The eyes of the Dragonborn seem to glitter, while he murmurs, admired: "I dreamed of the boy who returned. In returning, he shone like the sun that arises. And dissolved the shadows that had worried my dreams. This is how it went? You confirm that you eliminated the seeds of the threat of creation, Knight of the Moonblade?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Round 3
Once again, one of the spikes lands, penetrating Zevriel's left thigh. Our hero seems to be on his last leg—it's clear he needs to finish this fight quickly...
Zevriel is up!
Combat Stats (those interested can peek):
Initiative Name Status
21 Drondur 38 Damage, Wounded
13 Zevriel 30 Damage, On his last leg
Zev doesn’t let the beast buy space for free. As Drondur skews away, he steps with it and snaps a hard slash across the ribs, blade carving deep before he lets the momentum carry him forward again.
He closes the gap slowly and visibly in pain, but sets his feet nevertheless, and kicks the twinblade into a tight, circling guard—steel humming around him like a sawblade—then whips a second cut in under the shoulder. He stays inside the tail’s line, weight light on his toes, ready to slip and answer whatever the monster throws back.
Reaction: hits 22 for 10 damage plus 5 sneak plus 8 precise strike
Move: into melee
Bonus: Whirl dex 1o for 1AC, attack that hits AC 14 for 5 damage plus 9 sneak
Action: attack hits AC 9
New Reaction (if he gets attacked, whether hit or miss, or the manticore flees): hits AC 15 for 8 damage plus 10 sneak
Sorry, I'm on vacation and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus ||
Round 4
Urged on with unwavering courage by Zevriel, the Manticore suffers new wounds to its flanks and seems to be able to stand on its legs by sheer miracle.
Although the hero also seems on the verge of collapse, the monster lacks the motivation and ardor to risk its life to the very end. Drondur thus ceases hostilities and, with a dark look, comments: "All right, I'm not that hungry. I'll save you for next time. You win".
Gratz! Combat won! You can act outside of the rounds again now.
"Their champion is on the verge of collapsing, now" one of the Lords from Below suggests to Mekkunod. "Why give them the cloak? If we attack them all together now, we can easily kill them all."
But the ambassador shakes his head in denial: "No, they'll be more useful to us alive. We'll stick to the agreement. What they do for us will probably make Thetis' absence effectively irrelevant."
"It goes without saying, Thetis, that if you attack us as soon as you get your mantle back, we'll be forced to defend ourselves..." Mekkunod holds out the mantle to Thetis. "The past is forgotten; all right, Thetis?"
"The pleasure of regaining my freedom will be greater than any pleasure revenge could bring me, Mekkunod!" the girl in the skimpy shell dress assures.
Mekkunodd stares at her for a few moments - then, convinced, gives her the mantle.
Thetis takes it and puts it on with a delighted squeal, then runs to Zevriel: "Thank you, my hero! Thank you! I will never forget what you risked for me!"
Drondur, meanwhile, takes flight, presumably heading for his lair to recover from the hard-fought battle.
Mekkunodd, meanwhile, addresses the entire party: "It seems everyone has gotten what they wanted. But there's still one way to make things even better. You're about to return to the hamlet, Rassalantar, right? A hamlet that adventurers often pass through on their way here, looking for monsters to slay and treasures to steal. But what if, upon returning, you reported having explored the ruins completely (as you have), looted all the treasures and killed all the monsters? I think the adventurers would then stop coming here—they'd have nothing interesting to do or find here. We could live in peace. And the adventurers wouldn't risk being killed in stupid accidents. It would be a win-win situation for everyone. What do you think?"
Zev keeps his stance until the last black pinfeather vanishes over the rooftops. Only then does he let the breath hiss out of him, blade drooping, shoulders tight with pain and stubborn pride. When Thetis rushes in, he catches himself before he flinches, easing the twinblade down so it doesn’t nick her. He gives her a small, crooked half-smile and a knight’s nod.
“Easy now,” he says, voice low and rough. “Keep your heart close next time. Folks who take what isn’t theirs don’t change because you wish it.”
He straightens, turns a hard look on the one who’d argued for cutting them down, letting the silence bite sharper than steel. To Mekkunod, he shakes his head once—tired, clear. 'I won’t carry a lie to the village,' he thinks to himself simply. 'Nor a war. I’ll let Mival decide, and be gone.' His eyes narrow a fraction, as if remembering who here can skim the top of a man’s thoughts; he smooths his face and fixes on his breathing, one beat at a time, the way a fighter keeps fear on a short leash. Then he stoops, picks up his blade, and adds:
“I’ll bind this wound, sit a moment, and then I’m for Rassalantar. If that’s all.”
Sorry, I'm on vacation and while I will try to check-in at least daily, I cannot promise that I will always be able to do so. From September 1, I should be back to normal.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus ||
As if Mekkunod had read reluctance in the party's thoughts, he leaves one final reflection before returning to the lair with the other Lords from Below: "The truth is honorable, but it doesn't always bear the best fruits. It really think it would be best to do everything possible to ensure that our presence continues to be ignored by the people in Rassalantar. If we were ever discovered, mistrust could arise. From mistrust could arise persecution. From persecution, we would be forced to defend ourselves — and war could develop. And a war would bring pain and discomfort to both sides. Most of all to Blossom, who trusts you enough to return to the humans with you, rather than remain with us — but if it came to a 'doppelganger hunt,' do you think the humans would be understanding of Blossom? Or isn't it easier for him, so torn between the two factions, to become... the first victim?"
Alone, our heroes are free to return! The journey back to the surface (and, later, the hamlet) is uneventful. And so it is, when our heroes finally return...
The tanned woman is working in front of her house, in the light of the sweet Ches sun, with sure and decisive movements of her expert hands, which are replacing a broken spoke on a disassembled wagon wheel in front of her.
She finishes removing the stumps of the now unusable spoke and chooses one of the right size to replace it. Before inserting the new spoke, her gaze runs for the umpteenth time to the forest, the natural curtain of trees that has fallen on the tragedy of her life. The disappearance of her son.
Her son!?
Despite the distance, Kara 'Tarsakh Flower' Sashar's eyes immediately spot and recognize the figure that has emerged from the woods! The new spoke falls momentarily forgotten, while the woman bursts into a run worthy of the little girl she had been twenty years ago.
Mival... Mival was walking with an uncertain, embarrassed smile... Mival had left fearing to hurt his mother—and now that he was returning he felt the weight of the knowledge of having cruelly hurt her anyway. Mival, the boy, the doppelganger, the monster who chose to cling to his own humanity, had not yet decided what words to say to begin to explain...
Then he sees her. He sees her running towards him. He has never seen her so happy. And then he runs too, instantly understanding that words are no longer needed. They literally fly into each other's arms. Are they saying something? Are they whispering something, those faces so close that they are almost one indistinguishable? Or are they communicating with a form of telepathy even more primal and powerful than the doppelgangers' mind-reading powers?
After an indefinite and indefinable time, the two separate... they dry their tears of emotion with each other... They still have much to say to each other... and yet she smiles and simply says: "Come" offering him her hand.
"Yes," he takes it.
And they set off towards home.
"As for you," Kara smiles brightly at the adventurers before entering "I consider myself your eternal debtor! The thing I do best is repair wagons and their wheels—but if you ever need anything, anything at all, just tell me and I'll do everything I can to help you."
Meanwhile, Khelbluen and Rocksaucers, seemingly embarrassed, appear to be torn between their desire to follow Mival inside and a sort of hesitation about doing so without being explicitly invited.
Tarysaa was silent as 'Blossom' reunited with his mother. It tugged at the heart in it's own way but, she had to focus on what came next.
The quest was complete, but the cost was etched into the groups' weary faces. The 'boy' was found and returned to his family. An ancient artifact, a wedding ring, was returned and allowed a restless spirit to rest. Even Thetis was 'saved' which was surprising. The 'world' was saved, yes, but not without leaving so many questions unanswered. Her report to the Harpells would have more questions than answers.
All this bouncing about in her head as she watched the reunion and veered toward to stables to check on her mount.
Meanwhile, Zevriel has reached the Sleeping Dragon Inn, looking for Ghesh, the Dragonborn with those scales whose color, now that our hero thinks about it, resembles what Nesurentul's scales had.
The sage does not seem to be there, initially ... but Zevriel, in turning to go out and looking for him elsewhere, finds him suddenly at his back. The eyes of the Dragonborn seem to glitter, while he murmurs, admired: "I dreamed of the boy who returned. In returning, he shone like the sun that arises. And dissolved the shadows that had worried my dreams. This is how it went? You confirm that you eliminated the seeds of the threat of creation, Knight of the Moonblade?"