Gus stared up at the Arlington and Bloody Burke Number 13B as if he were seeing an old enemy in the crowd at his own funeral.
The bronze lock gleamed with arrogant defiance, like it knew it was about to ruin his entire day.
“Oh no,” Gus muttered, eyes narrowing, “Not you.”
Behind him, the devil stood, Tuu’Saayn still hadn’t moved, his silence stretching longer than any sane person could bear. Were they... talking? Bargaining? Delaying?
Good.
Because Gus had a different demon to slay.
He approached the locking mechanism, pulling the velvet-wrapped thieves’ tools from the inner lining of his coat with haste. His fingers trembled, from sheer urgency.
He selects the right pick with the same solemnity a knight might choose their sword.
The heat from the nearby flames made sweat roll down the side of his face, dripping onto the stone. His tools slid into the mechanism, careful, confident despite everything.
He hated this lock.
Its inner tumblers clicked like smug laughter.
“I know how you tick, you uptight little coffin of copper. You’ve got three spools and a false gate and, don’t even try that binding nonsense, I grew up on 13Bs. You think you’re clever? You think you’re—”
Once his impromptu charge died out and Gryn found himself at the very feet of the demon, huffing and puffing to catch his breath, he realized too late he didn't really know what to do next. How do you deal with a demon? Luckily Tuu'Saayn approached quickly and began yammering at it. Gryn squeezed his eyes shut and hunched over awaiting the doom to be unleashed by the demon.
After a heartbeat or two he peeked out from one eye and lo and behold the demon was flapping his gums back at Tuu'Saayn. Gryn exhaled softly and thought he should get out of the demon's line of sight, after all what was that saying... out of sight, out of mind. He edged back a giant step with one leg and then shifted sideways with another giant step of the other leg, depositing himself squarely behind Tuu'Saayn.
Gryn's Stealth: 12
Sometimes Gryn could hide behind others who were bigger and now seemed like as good a time as any to try. This may not be the next step in dealing with this demon but in lack of another option it gave Gryn something to do and from here maybe he could... wait just a moment, what's wrong with Tuu'Saayn, is he having some kind of fit? Could conversing with the demon have resulted in Tuu'Saayn being charmed or put under some spell? Why were Tuu'Saayn's fingers wiggling around behind his back? Reaching for a concealed weapon of some sort or... No! I know what he's doing! He trying to signal something to somebody. But who? and what? Gryn had no idea. He never learned to hand-speak.
However, both Tuu'Saayn and the demon continued to yammer on and on, oh my god would they ever stop? Wait, maybe while Tuu'Saayn kept it talking Gryn could do something after all. While they're at the South Gate Gryn could steal away and try to help in some way. He had overhead them talking about Cornwallis. He had to find her and try to get her out or barring that hide her somewhere safe.
Gryn will try to escape the demon's notice, perhaps not unseen but maybe the demon would continue to ignore him as it had already done so far. Gryn moves off darting randomly in one direction and then not finding a good hiding place changes directions on a dime and speeds off in another, meandering away from the demon at the South Gate, looking for all the world like anyone else fleeing form certain doom.
Gryn's Stealth (for leaving the South Gate unnoticed): 4
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
Gryn will try to escape the demon's notice, perhaps not unseen but maybe the demon would continue to ignore him as it had already done so far. Gryn moves off darting randomly in one direction and then not finding a good hiding place changes directions on a dime and speeds off in another, meandering away from the demon at the South Gate, looking for all the world like anyone else fleeing form certain doom.
Gryn literally kicked a bucket on his nonchalant walk - but neither the Beast nor Tuu'Saayn broke off from their silent staring match to look at him.
“I know how you tick, you uptight little coffin of copper. You’ve got three spools and a false gate and, don’t even try that binding nonsense, I grew up on 13Bs. You think you’re clever? You think you’re—”
With a silent 'click' he could feel through his fingertips, the bronze padlock opened and fell into Gus' open hand. His position, lying atop the heavy wooden beam, made it impossible to un-bar it without moving - and that was likely to need someone a little...taller.
But if any padlock had ever looked apologetic, it would be this one.
The padlock gave with the softest click, a sound sweeter than any song Gus had ever heard.
Then he realized there was still the matter of the gate’s enormous crossbeam. He gave the beam a test shove.
It didn’t budge.
“…Right,”he muttered into the splintery wood. “This bit’s built for someone taller. Or at least someone with more than one functional tricep."
His eyes darted sideways. The fiend was still there, towering and blazing like a walking apocalypse, and Tuu’Saayn was still, what were they doing, having a staring contest with death itself?
And Gryn?
He couldn’t yell.
He couldn’t make a sound.
So, instead, he improvised.
Gus flapped his other arm harder and mouthed, with emphatic slowness:
“I. Need. TALL. Help.”
“Anytime now, lads,” Gus muttered under his breath. “Before Flamey over there gets bored of the silent treatment.”
He kicked his heel once against the beam in exasperation, still waving madly.
Not without breaking contact with the Fiend - which it might take as meaning he's turning down its offer... Either way, he's not going to be able to stall until dawn, given that it's about nine in the evening!
***I'm kinda dragging my feet on the next post to give Torm a chance to post. Tuu'Saayn would want to know where his people are before revving up for the next questionable idea***
Torm arrives to the scene and is immediately awed at the sight of the winged devil engaged. Clutching his pendant he offers a brief prayer to Helm for guidance and wisdom.
Feeling more connected with the divine, he slowly takes in the rest of the situation: Tuu'Saayn holding the fiends attention, Gryn darting out from behind Tuu like a squirrel trying to make its away across a wagon busy road, and Gus . . . Gus? . . . Gus at the gate trying to pick another lock.
'"This can't be good," Torm whispers to himself.
At that moment, Gus's entire demeanor changes. His arms raised above his head, a chunk of brass glinting in one hand, and if Torm wasn't mistaken the eccentric magician was . . . doing a jig?
Realizing the gnome seemed to succeed at picking the lock this time, Torm attempts to move around to Gus's location as Torm watches him struggle to get any leverage with the crossbar.
The Beast and Tuu'Saayn still face each other, eyes locked.
Even if he can move the bar, Torm realises that opening the gate more than a few inches is going to be impossible with the huge fiend standing in front of it - but it might be possible for the two of them to slip away.
Regardless of the fool's name, they will shrivel and wilt before your terrible power. (No need for deception here, Tuu'Saayn is rightly terrified of the beast and cant imagine a mortal power that could stand before it in battle.) A flash of metal armor caught the corner of his eye, Torm? Too risky to look, Tuu'Saayn had little choice but to hope in the farthest corner of his heart, buried beneath a wall of focused intent.
The night is young, and your power in this place is supreme. Why not enjoy this assignment? The riff-raff of this market will surely fold in upon itself. Allow us the opportunity to entertain you, bringer of torment. The weak of spirit WILL rise up to prey upon their fellows, this is the way of the weak, feigning strength to mask their own fear. When they step forth, I will lay them low. Afford me this small pleasure? By dawn you will eat my soul or burn my body, either way l, there is no escape. For the briefest moment his shoulders slumped and his head hung low, but fierce resolve replaced despair. If I am to perish here, so be it, but I would die in glorious battle, feeding you the souls of the damned before I taste the flame of your magnificence.
***OoC: Tuu'Saayn weaves truth throughout his words, keeping the ember of hope buried deep in his heart.***
"If you will not serve, there is another. Die as it pleases you - it matters not."
Although no-one else hears the voice of the Beast, everyone sees it raise its hand and casually fling a fireball, well over a hundred feet along the West Road.
An explosion of heat and light, a few screams, though most had fled further than that from the Fiend.
After a few heartbeats, another fireball, this time far along the East Road.
In a moment of panic, Tuu'Saayn brings forth a mental image. His minds eye focuses on the gaudy striped tent on the north end of the market, and then it flashes to Janet's face...
The sound , the low whumpf of igniting magic followed by a blinding flash. Gus’s heart sank like a lead coin dropped in a well.
Tuu’Saayn.
He spun on his heel, wild-eyed, searching......and exhaled sharp and shaky when he saw the Tiefling still standing, not so much as a singed horn.
But then came another fireball, casually lobbed like a tavern brawl tankard, arcing with almost lazy menace down the East Road.
Slowly, deliberately, with the the polished, Arlington and Bloody Burke Number 13B still in his hand, and turned to face the mountain of a man beside him.
He looked up, at Torm’s towering form, and with the strange serenity of a condemned man handing over his last will and testament, he held the lock out in one palm.
“No offense, big lad, but I reckon you’re better suited to keepin’ this than I am. And if not, you can always throw it at somethin’.”
Slowly, calmly he turned toward the Devil.
Gus Wobblewand, first of his name, reluctant adventurer and professional survivor, strolled up beside Tuu’Saayn joining a friend.
“Hello there,” he said, as if greeting a baker rather than a living bonfire with wings. “Name’s Gus, lockpicker, fireball-dodger, and now, apparently, hellspawn conversationalist”
He folded his hands neatly behind his back, rocking on his heels, as flames crackled in the background.
“I figured, what with me bein’ next in line for flambéing, we ought to be formally introduced.”
He tilts his head, before continuing. “Now, I may be readin’ too much into the orchestrated destruction and liberal application of fireballs, but it seems you’re doin’ a bit of… what’s the word… remodeling? Sprucin’ the place up with a touch of the infernal?”
He made a vague gesture to the flaming ruins behind them.
“Very bold. Open concept. Lots of char.”
Gus leans slightly toward Tuu’Saayn and murmured, “I figured, y’know… if our time’s up, might as well try and negotiate before we’re candle wax.”
Then, turning back to the beast with what might generously be called a smile, he raises a single brow and added:
“Not yet mortal, not yet,” he said, nodding solemnly at himself, quoting the creature’s earlier words. “So, since my expiration date’s apparently been postponed, I thought we might have a wee chat.”
His voice lowered conspiratorially.
“Maybe a parlay so to speak, maybe we could have you direct that enthusiasm toward, say, a volcano. And in return perhaps we could assist you you with something that may be on your mind but is just out of reach, yeah?"
Persuasion: 6 [OOC: Well, it seems Charisma has forsaken the charisma based character.....]
“Maybe a parlay so to speak, maybe we could have you direct that enthusiasm toward, say, a volcano. And in return perhaps we could assist you you with something that may be on your mind but is just out of reach, yeah?"
The Beast spares Gus a glance, and for a moment, he can hear the voice in his head - knowing, somehow, that Tuu'Saayn hears the same words.
"You are no use to me, mortal: You are a creature of Chaos. No Bargain you strike could ever be binding.
Your life had meaning only as far as you might have had value to this one.
In a moment of panic, Tuu'Saayn brings forth a mental image. His minds eye focuses on the gaudy striped tent on the north end of the market, and then it flashes to Janet's face...
Another pair of fireballs streak into the Market - each a little further North and a fraction nearer than the last ones. From where it stands, the Beast has the range to burn perhaps a third of the Market.
At Tuu'Saayn's attempted deception, its face actually twists - into a sneer. Then it jerks its head to one side, as if struck
"If I must."
Comes the clear thought to both Tuu'Saayn and Gus.
The Beast spreads its great wings, and a blazing line of flame erupts along the ground beneath it - a wall of fire, twenty feet in height, and stretching thirty feet in either direction.
Tuu'Saayn and Gus are forced to retreat or be consumed by flames on the spot.
Torm, still stood close by the gate, is unharmed - that side of the wall radiates no heat, but he is pinned against the gate by it - to enter the flames would bring instant death.
To either side, for thirty feet, wooden stalls and structures set along the wall are quickly consumed by flame, smoke pouring upward into the darkness.
The Beast steps forth from the fire, leaping into the air with a single beat of its great wings - and flies off towards the North East of the Market, and the Gaudy Tent Tuu'Saayn tried to direct its attention to. Moments after it vanishes into the darkness above, Tuu'Saayn and Gus feel its attention leave them - they no longer have the sense of its presence in their minds, listening.
Fortunately for Tuu'Saayn, his reactions were quicker than his brain. As the beast rose into the air, a wall of fire errupted! Almost as if he sensed the gathering magic, he twisted back to his left and dove away from the searing heat. He landed hard, but was already rolling farther away before his momentum slowed. He ended up, as always, somehow finding his footing. As he turned to see the hellish wall all color drained from Tuu'Saayn's face. He was indeed looking like a bit of a freak now. He could almost hear the carnival ringmaster, Step right up, see the freakish albino Tiefling, only 2 copper! Force of will alone kept him from collapsing into a whimpering, blubbering heap of soiled trousers, fear, and exhaustion. He couldn't believe he was still alive.
He finally pulled himself together, but couldn't seem to quite get his hands to stop shaking. He began to glance around, time to see who else survived the flaming destruction that emanated from the Fiend. He may have needed a moment to collect himself, but he knew that the clock was ticking. He made sure Gus was OK and then refocused on getting the hells out of the Market area.
He saw Torm through the wall of fire, near the south gate. He held his position for just a second, making sure that the gate could be opened. He no longer felt the Fiends mental presence, but he wasn't taking any chances. He started mentally singing the first song that came to mind, hoping to clutter his thoughts enough to shield them from Big Red. I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down, but the flames went higher! And it burns, burns, burns; the ring of fire, the ring of fire. The irony was not lost on him, but he didn't have enough mental energy to think of something else.
"Would that fancy gem in the well help with any of this." He wondered aloud. "I need to find Janet. Go and do what you do best, my friend; throw a wrench into this machine and watch the parts fly!" Tuu'Saayn then asked more.of his body, commanding his rubbery legs to move with haste once again. As he neared the tavern he slowed and attempted to remain unseen.
Stealth: 18
***OoC: he avoids the area near the pillars where he felt the connection to the fiend earlier.***
***OoC: holy crap. That was intense! Tuu is shaken up, and rightfully so, but I think I need a few hours on a leather couch too! Well played DM and adventurous companions."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Gus stared up at the Arlington and Bloody Burke Number 13B as if he were seeing an old enemy in the crowd at his own funeral.
The bronze lock gleamed with arrogant defiance, like it knew it was about to ruin his entire day.
“Oh no,” Gus muttered, eyes narrowing, “Not you.”
Behind him, the devil stood, Tuu’Saayn still hadn’t moved, his silence stretching longer than any sane person could bear. Were they... talking? Bargaining? Delaying?
Good.
Because Gus had a different demon to slay.
He approached the locking mechanism, pulling the velvet-wrapped thieves’ tools from the inner lining of his coat with haste. His fingers trembled, from sheer urgency.
He selects the right pick with the same solemnity a knight might choose their sword.
The heat from the nearby flames made sweat roll down the side of his face, dripping onto the stone. His tools slid into the mechanism, careful, confident despite everything.
He hated this lock.
Its inner tumblers clicked like smug laughter.
“I know how you tick, you uptight little coffin of copper. You’ve got three spools and a false gate and, don’t even try that binding nonsense, I grew up on 13Bs. You think you’re clever? You think you’re—”
Theives Tools Nat 20+4=24
[Need to pause and let Gryn (and possibly Torm) act here - can't really put off finding out what happens to the rash little halfling priest]
Once his impromptu charge died out and Gryn found himself at the very feet of the demon, huffing and puffing to catch his breath, he realized too late he didn't really know what to do next. How do you deal with a demon? Luckily Tuu'Saayn approached quickly and began yammering at it. Gryn squeezed his eyes shut and hunched over awaiting the doom to be unleashed by the demon.
After a heartbeat or two he peeked out from one eye and lo and behold the demon was flapping his gums back at Tuu'Saayn. Gryn exhaled softly and thought he should get out of the demon's line of sight, after all what was that saying... out of sight, out of mind. He edged back a giant step with one leg and then shifted sideways with another giant step of the other leg, depositing himself squarely behind Tuu'Saayn.
Gryn's Stealth: 12
Sometimes Gryn could hide behind others who were bigger and now seemed like as good a time as any to try. This may not be the next step in dealing with this demon but in lack of another option it gave Gryn something to do and from here maybe he could... wait just a moment, what's wrong with Tuu'Saayn, is he having some kind of fit? Could conversing with the demon have resulted in Tuu'Saayn being charmed or put under some spell? Why were Tuu'Saayn's fingers wiggling around behind his back? Reaching for a concealed weapon of some sort or... No! I know what he's doing! He trying to signal something to somebody. But who? and what? Gryn had no idea. He never learned to hand-speak.
However, both Tuu'Saayn and the demon continued to yammer on and on, oh my god would they ever stop? Wait, maybe while Tuu'Saayn kept it talking Gryn could do something after all. While they're at the South Gate Gryn could steal away and try to help in some way. He had overhead them talking about Cornwallis. He had to find her and try to get her out or barring that hide her somewhere safe.
Gryn will try to escape the demon's notice, perhaps not unseen but maybe the demon would continue to ignore him as it had already done so far. Gryn moves off darting randomly in one direction and then not finding a good hiding place changes directions on a dime and speeds off in another, meandering away from the demon at the South Gate, looking for all the world like anyone else fleeing form certain doom.
Gryn's Stealth (for leaving the South Gate unnoticed): 4
Gryn literally kicked a bucket on his nonchalant walk - but neither the Beast nor Tuu'Saayn broke off from their silent staring match to look at him.
With a silent 'click' he could feel through his fingertips, the bronze padlock opened and fell into Gus' open hand. His position, lying atop the heavy wooden beam, made it impossible to un-bar it without moving - and that was likely to need someone a little...taller.
But if any padlock had ever looked apologetic, it would be this one.
***OoC: can Tuu see what Gus is doing?***
The padlock gave with the softest click, a sound sweeter than any song Gus had ever heard.
Then he realized there was still the matter of the gate’s enormous crossbeam. He gave the beam a test shove.
It didn’t budge.
“…Right,” he muttered into the splintery wood. “This bit’s built for someone taller. Or at least someone with more than one functional tricep."
His eyes darted sideways. The fiend was still there, towering and blazing like a walking apocalypse, and Tuu’Saayn was still, what were they doing, having a staring contest with death itself?
And Gryn?
He couldn’t yell.
He couldn’t make a sound.
So, instead, he improvised.
Gus flapped his other arm harder and mouthed, with emphatic slowness:
“I. Need. TALL. Help.”
“Anytime now, lads,” Gus muttered under his breath. “Before Flamey over there gets bored of the silent treatment.”
He kicked his heel once against the beam in exasperation, still waving madly.
Not without breaking contact with the Fiend - which it might take as meaning he's turning down its offer...
Either way, he's not going to be able to stall until dawn, given that it's about nine in the evening!
***I'm kinda dragging my feet on the next post to give Torm a chance to post. Tuu'Saayn would want to know where his people are before revving up for the next questionable idea***
Torm arrives to the scene and is immediately awed at the sight of the winged devil engaged. Clutching his pendant he offers a brief prayer to Helm for guidance and wisdom.
Feeling more connected with the divine, he slowly takes in the rest of the situation: Tuu'Saayn holding the fiends attention, Gryn darting out from behind Tuu like a squirrel trying to make its away across a wagon busy road, and Gus . . . Gus? . . . Gus at the gate trying to pick another lock.
'"This can't be good," Torm whispers to himself.
At that moment, Gus's entire demeanor changes. His arms raised above his head, a chunk of brass glinting in one hand, and if Torm wasn't mistaken the eccentric magician was . . . doing a jig?
Realizing the gnome seemed to succeed at picking the lock this time, Torm attempts to move around to Gus's location as Torm watches him struggle to get any leverage with the crossbar.
Stealth (disadvantage): 13
***edit to add stealth check if needed***
The Beast and Tuu'Saayn still face each other, eyes locked.
Even if he can move the bar, Torm realises that opening the gate more than a few inches is going to be impossible with the huge fiend standing in front of it - but it might be possible for the two of them to slip away.
Regardless of the fool's name, they will shrivel and wilt before your terrible power. (No need for deception here, Tuu'Saayn is rightly terrified of the beast and cant imagine a mortal power that could stand before it in battle.) A flash of metal armor caught the corner of his eye, Torm? Too risky to look, Tuu'Saayn had little choice but to hope in the farthest corner of his heart, buried beneath a wall of focused intent.
The night is young, and your power in this place is supreme. Why not enjoy this assignment? The riff-raff of this market will surely fold in upon itself. Allow us the opportunity to entertain you, bringer of torment. The weak of spirit WILL rise up to prey upon their fellows, this is the way of the weak, feigning strength to mask their own fear. When they step forth, I will lay them low. Afford me this small pleasure? By dawn you will eat my soul or burn my body, either way l, there is no escape. For the briefest moment his shoulders slumped and his head hung low, but fierce resolve replaced despair. If I am to perish here, so be it, but I would die in glorious battle, feeding you the souls of the damned before I taste the flame of your magnificence.
***OoC: Tuu'Saayn weaves truth throughout his words, keeping the ember of hope buried deep in his heart.***
"If you will not serve, there is another. Die as it pleases you - it matters not."
Although no-one else hears the voice of the Beast, everyone sees it raise its hand and casually fling a fireball, well over a hundred feet along the West Road.
An explosion of heat and light, a few screams, though most had fled further than that from the Fiend.
After a few heartbeats, another fireball, this time far along the East Road.
In a moment of panic, Tuu'Saayn brings forth a mental image. His minds eye focuses on the gaudy striped tent on the north end of the market, and then it flashes to Janet's face...
***OoC. If you need a deception check he would use his luck point here out of desperation***
Deception 16
The sound , the low whumpf of igniting magic followed by a blinding flash. Gus’s heart sank like a lead coin dropped in a well.
Tuu’Saayn.
He spun on his heel, wild-eyed, searching......and exhaled sharp and shaky when he saw the Tiefling still standing, not so much as a singed horn.
But then came another fireball, casually lobbed like a tavern brawl tankard, arcing with almost lazy menace down the East Road.
Slowly, deliberately, with the the polished, Arlington and Bloody Burke Number 13B still in his hand, and turned to face the mountain of a man beside him.
He looked up, at Torm’s towering form, and with the strange serenity of a condemned man handing over his last will and testament, he held the lock out in one palm.
“No offense, big lad, but I reckon you’re better suited to keepin’ this than I am. And if not, you can always throw it at somethin’.”
Slowly, calmly he turned toward the Devil.
Gus Wobblewand, first of his name, reluctant adventurer and professional survivor, strolled up beside Tuu’Saayn joining a friend.
“Hello there,” he said, as if greeting a baker rather than a living bonfire with wings. “Name’s Gus, lockpicker, fireball-dodger, and now, apparently, hellspawn conversationalist”
He folded his hands neatly behind his back, rocking on his heels, as flames crackled in the background.
“I figured, what with me bein’ next in line for flambéing, we ought to be formally introduced.”
He tilts his head, before continuing. “Now, I may be readin’ too much into the orchestrated destruction and liberal application of fireballs, but it seems you’re doin’ a bit of… what’s the word… remodeling? Sprucin’ the place up with a touch of the infernal?”
He made a vague gesture to the flaming ruins behind them.
“Very bold. Open concept. Lots of char.”
Gus leans slightly toward Tuu’Saayn and murmured, “I figured, y’know… if our time’s up, might as well try and negotiate before we’re candle wax.”
Then, turning back to the beast with what might generously be called a smile, he raises a single brow and added:
“Not yet mortal, not yet,” he said, nodding solemnly at himself, quoting the creature’s earlier words. “So, since my expiration date’s apparently been postponed, I thought we might have a wee chat.”
His voice lowered conspiratorially.
“Maybe a parlay so to speak, maybe we could have you direct that enthusiasm toward, say, a volcano. And in return perhaps we could assist you you with something that may be on your mind but is just out of reach, yeah?"
Persuasion: 6
[OOC: Well, it seems Charisma has forsaken the charisma based character.....]
The Beast spares Gus a glance, and for a moment, he can hear the voice in his head - knowing, somehow, that Tuu'Saayn hears the same words.
"You are no use to me, mortal: You are a creature of Chaos. No Bargain you strike could ever be binding.
Your life had meaning only as far as you might have had value to this one.
Now, you can perish with the rest."
Another pair of fireballs streak into the Market - each a little further North and a fraction nearer than the last ones. From where it stands, the Beast has the range to burn perhaps a third of the Market.
At Tuu'Saayn's attempted deception, its face actually twists - into a sneer. Then it jerks its head to one side, as if struck
"If I must."
Comes the clear thought to both Tuu'Saayn and Gus.
The Beast spreads its great wings, and a blazing line of flame erupts along the ground beneath it - a wall of fire, twenty feet in height, and stretching thirty feet in either direction.
Tuu'Saayn and Gus are forced to retreat or be consumed by flames on the spot.
Torm, still stood close by the gate, is unharmed - that side of the wall radiates no heat, but he is pinned against the gate by it - to enter the flames would bring instant death.
To either side, for thirty feet, wooden stalls and structures set along the wall are quickly consumed by flame, smoke pouring upward into the darkness.
The Beast steps forth from the fire, leaping into the air with a single beat of its great wings - and flies off towards the North East of the Market, and the Gaudy Tent Tuu'Saayn tried to direct its attention to. Moments after it vanishes into the darkness above, Tuu'Saayn and Gus feel its attention leave them - they no longer have the sense of its presence in their minds, listening.
Fortunately for Tuu'Saayn, his reactions were quicker than his brain. As the beast rose into the air, a wall of fire errupted! Almost as if he sensed the gathering magic, he twisted back to his left and dove away from the searing heat. He landed hard, but was already rolling farther away before his momentum slowed. He ended up, as always, somehow finding his footing. As he turned to see the hellish wall all color drained from Tuu'Saayn's face. He was indeed looking like a bit of a freak now. He could almost hear the carnival ringmaster, Step right up, see the freakish albino Tiefling, only 2 copper! Force of will alone kept him from collapsing into a whimpering, blubbering heap of soiled trousers, fear, and exhaustion. He couldn't believe he was still alive.
He finally pulled himself together, but couldn't seem to quite get his hands to stop shaking. He began to glance around, time to see who else survived the flaming destruction that emanated from the Fiend. He may have needed a moment to collect himself, but he knew that the clock was ticking. He made sure Gus was OK and then refocused on getting the hells out of the Market area.
He saw Torm through the wall of fire, near the south gate. He held his position for just a second, making sure that the gate could be opened. He no longer felt the Fiends mental presence, but he wasn't taking any chances. He started mentally singing the first song that came to mind, hoping to clutter his thoughts enough to shield them from Big Red. I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down, but the flames went higher! And it burns, burns, burns; the ring of fire, the ring of fire. The irony was not lost on him, but he didn't have enough mental energy to think of something else.
"Would that fancy gem in the well help with any of this." He wondered aloud. "I need to find Janet. Go and do what you do best, my friend; throw a wrench into this machine and watch the parts fly!" Tuu'Saayn then asked more.of his body, commanding his rubbery legs to move with haste once again. As he neared the tavern he slowed and attempted to remain unseen.
Stealth: 18
***OoC: he avoids the area near the pillars where he felt the connection to the fiend earlier.***
***OoC: holy crap. That was intense! Tuu is shaken up, and rightfully so, but I think I need a few hours on a leather couch too! Well played DM and adventurous companions."