Galqarin will unleash a barrage of blows against the abomination before him, whilst if possible manoeuvring such that he and Dallid cannot again be caught in a single strike.
Night of the Living Nachtschreck - Round #4 - Galqarin's Turn
Galqarin's Turn
Galqarin embodies righteous fury as he relentlessly attacks the nearest nachtschreck, his massive bugbear hands shredding its ethereal form. Just when it seems the spirit may evade his grasp, Galqarin's blows land with devastating force, inflicting severe damage. As the spirit teeters on the brink of dissolution, it flashes one final image of its former life, that of a farmer turned soldier whose family was brutally murdered by the devil Strahd, his existence shattered in an instant. In the next instance, the spirit explodes into dust before Galqarin's eyes, never to haunt the living again.
((Galqarin - I hope the position I moved you to is alright. Not too far from the remaining nachtschrek and not in line with anyone.))
Dallid - The aftermath of the battle is evident to the south, where your companions have successfully vanquished the second spirit. Yet, the third and final spirit still hovers menacingly before you, unyielding in its resistance. To your right, Rahadin's composure remains unshaken, his unwavering focus on the task at hand is nothing short of chilling. You steel yourself and seize the opportunity that presents itself, determined to end this nightmare once and for all. It is your turn.
Night of the Living Nachtschreck - Round #4 - Dallid's Turn
Dallid's Turn
With a savage flourish, Dallid's whip cracks against the remaining nachtschreck, its ethereal form sparking and crackling in response. Though weakened, the creature stubbornly clings to the realm of the living, its body intermittently fading in and out of existence. Ferelyon, sensing his master's need, leaps forward with jaws agape, but the nimble spirit manages to evade the attack, rolling to the side.
Rahadin's Turn
Rahadin's piercing gaze falls upon Dallid's whip, sizing up both the weapon and its bearer with unnerving scrutiny. Without a word, the dusk elf slashes his scimitar with lethal precision, delivering a rapid succession of blows to the last remaining nachtschreck.
Scimitar Strike #1: Attack: 13(miss)
Scimitar Strike #2: Attack: 17, Damage: 9
Scimitar Strike #3: Attack: 22, Damage: 8
Rahadin's scimitar misses the mark with its first swing, but the dusk elf quickly regains his composure and delivers two savage slashes against the nachtschreck. Psychic shrieks emanate from the dying spirit and fill the air, it is clear that the creature is teetering on the brink of permanent death.
Dormark - "Finish it," Rahadin's voice creeps like a ghostly whisper. To the north, the last of the wretched spirits lingers, its mind twisted by an age-old wrong, beyond redemption. The creature is on the brink of oblivion, but this is not the end of the terror that still holds you within this realm. As you gather your resolve, you focus on the present danger, sharpening your mind for the task at hand. It's your turn to act.
Night of the Living Nachtschreck - Round #4 - Dormark's Turn
Dormark's Turn
Dormark charges towards the remaining malevolent spirit, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. With his mace in hand, he delivers a powerful blow to the creature, shattering its ethereal body and bringing it to a permanent end. As the spirit dissolves into nothingness, it lets out a final, mournful cry, "Curse thee, Conqueror!"before vanishing forever.
ALL - The valiant souls who once stood against the ruthless tyranny of Strahd have been laid to rest, their spirits finally free from the taint of corruption and twistedness that had befallen them over the long years—end of initiative.
"You unscathed?"Rahadin growls as you gather with the newcomers, his tone devoid of any compassion. The clamour of voices long silenced by his blade reverberates within your mind, a stark reminder that though the nachtschrecks may have met their demise, countless other tormented spirits still roam these lands, their fate unknown and their suffering unending.
Ioben, bearing the marks of cruel torture, pushes his way past Strahd's minion, his eyes sunken and his voice strained. "Friends,"he gasps, his relief palpable, "Gods, it's good to see you all alive and well!" Tears well up in his eyes as he continues, "I...I am sorry for what I have put you through."
"It is alright Ioben, we are a little worse for wear, but we must press forward if we are to find an escape... but I know something about these events that make them all the more dire. The man I have been seeking has had a hand in this plot. I fear he turned Alano into what he currently is. If the man in in these halls... it is imperative that we find him," says Dormark.
Unaware that he had been holding his breath for the last couple of seconds, Sandu let out a sigh upon seeing the spirits dissipate. It was quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when he laid his eyes upon the last person to join the fray. He rubbed his eyes for good measure. He still was there even after two more vigorous rubs.
'Ioben?' Sandu asked. He was unsure whether the man was truly the man he knew or just some other apparition conjured here to mess with him? He tentatively reached out a hand and touched solid flesh. He pulled the man in closer. 'What in the Nine Hells has happened to you?'
Sandu's embrace is returned with desperate urgency as Ioben begins to recount the events that have transpired. Though only days have passed, he looks as though he has lived through a lifetime of hardship since parting ways with the group. "Gods, Sandu,"he curses through gritted teeth, his voice still weak. "I have been a fool. A damnable fool!" he says, hanging his head in shame.
In the dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casts long shadows across Ioben's face as he begins to tell his story. "It was the ladies from the Blue Water Inn," he says, his tone heavy with regret. "They delivered a message, an invitation. I was to meet someone of great importance, someone who could help us rid the land of... him,"he hisses, casting a dark glance at his wounded hand. "Jeze'baal was persuasive, she knew how to appeal to my desires. She spoke of an ancient pact the Count had broken and promised that she could help us defeat him."
Rahadin shifts on his feet, his expression unreadable. "Please, continue,"he drawls, his voice low and measured.
"As you can imagine, I couldn't resist the opportunity to potentially turn the tide in our favour," Ioben continues, his voice growing more animated. "I left a hidden message for you ((Post #2460)), Sandu, and set off to meet Jeze'baal in Krezk. But when I arrived, things were not as I had expected - instead of a warm welcome I received nothing but coldness. Lady Dubois, one of Jeze'baal's servants, kept me hidden away from sight. I was told to wait before being granted an audience with Jeze'baal, but I had to endure what felt like an eternity of isolation and suspicion."
Ioben nervously bites his lip, a rare sight from a seasoned gambler. His wary eyes dart around the dimly lit room, as though he expects danger to pounce on him from the shadows. "It was all a lie, Sandu,"he whispers hoarsely, his voice barely above a breath. "One second I was being held in an expansive mansion in the heart of Krezk... the next I woke up bound and stripped within this place -- wherever this place is. Rather than the saviour I thought she was, Jeze'Baal became my tormentor."
A wave of unease washes over Ioben, the faux-confidence dissipating. "She yearned to know the depths of our being, the intricacies of our pasts, and the purpose that led us to Barovia. Her obsession with our arrival was unquenchable, believing it to be preordained; expecting me to provide some great revelation to her questions. Jeze'Baal was convinced that our fates were inextricably linked to the future of this land and that the key to unlocking it all lay within us," Ioben explains with a sombre tone, his eyes still scanning the room for any signs of danger.
Ioben pauses, visibly troubled. "Her misguided beliefs drove her to extreme measures and for every question I could not answer, I..." His voice trails off and he rubs the scars on his body. "That is to say, I displeased her. Though I did learn that she sought to draw you all here, believing that she could prevent, or at least shape, whatever destiny we share with this cursed land."
Sandu devoted his entire attention to the words Ioben spoke. He had been a fool all right, but at least he recognised it: going off alone in Barovia was just asking for trouble. Sandu could understand the intent though. As unbelievable as it sounded, the idea that there was someone else working against Strahd offering an alliance was tempting on the surface. Just a shame that, like everything he had seen so far in Barovia, there was too much nastiness below said surface.
'Who is this Jeze'Baal?' Sandu asked. The name rolled unpleasingly off his tongue, like the sound of it soured his mouth. 'You're saying she's been luring us here?'
He pondered his own question. To what end? What had their group to offer that others could not? They were outsiders: did this Jeze'Baal perchance think that they could somehow get out of Barovia? Whatever the case, Sandu did not like the sound of her assuming that they were somehow linked with the land. If anything, he was sick of Barovia. Sick to his stomach and he would love nothing more than to leave it all behind.
He turned to the others. 'Well, we're all here now. Let's not give this Jeze'Baal a chance to sink her claws into us.' He pulled Ioben to his feet. 'Let's get out of here.'
Ioben absently scratches at the back of his head as he speaks, his tone hesitant. "The true nature of Jeze'Baal eludes me. Though it is clear that she holds some measure of sway over Barovia, of that I am certain. I had hoped she would be an ally, a saviour amidst the inhospitable horrors of this land,"he pauses, swallowing hard. "Alas, my hopes were unfounded. Whoever, or whatever, Jeze'Baal is, she wields immense and dark powers. She may even be one of the reasons that Strahd was able to overcome those that previously dwelt within Barovia."
Ioben gratefully accepts Sandu's assistance and rises to his feet, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. "If we can find a way to weaken her,"he ponders, "it may be the key to breaking the Count's hold over the land."
As Ioben shares his account of events, a small voice at the back of your mind whispers doubts; Has he revealed all there is to know? Has he been truthful about his experiences? You can't help but wonder if he is keeping something back. Yet, you cannot ignore the visible signs of trauma etched on his face - a testimony to the horrors he has endured since your last meeting.
The glint in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw make it clear that there are still wounds that have not yet fully healed. Perhaps, he is simply unable to articulate everything that he has gone through. Or maybe, the fear of retribution still hangs heavy over his head, even in this moment of relative safety. Regardless of the reason, you sense that he has only shared what he feels is necessary for your immediate goals.
Dallid dex save 13
Paladin - warforged - orange
Galqarin will unleash a barrage of blows against the abomination before him, whilst if possible manoeuvring such that he and Dallid cannot again be caught in a single strike.
Attack 26, damage 5
Attack 23, damage 5
Attack 16, damage 8
Night of the Living Nachtschreck - Round #4 - Galqarin's Turn
Galqarin's Turn
Galqarin embodies righteous fury as he relentlessly attacks the nearest nachtschreck, his massive bugbear hands shredding its ethereal form. Just when it seems the spirit may evade his grasp, Galqarin's blows land with devastating force, inflicting severe damage. As the spirit teeters on the brink of dissolution, it flashes one final image of its former life, that of a farmer turned soldier whose family was brutally murdered by the devil Strahd, his existence shattered in an instant. In the next instance, the spirit explodes into dust before Galqarin's eyes, never to haunt the living again.
((Galqarin - I hope the position I moved you to is alright. Not too far from the remaining nachtschrek and not in line with anyone.))
Dallid - The aftermath of the battle is evident to the south, where your companions have successfully vanquished the second spirit. Yet, the third and final spirit still hovers menacingly before you, unyielding in its resistance. To your right, Rahadin's composure remains unshaken, his unwavering focus on the task at hand is nothing short of chilling. You steel yourself and seize the opportunity that presents itself, determined to end this nightmare once and for all. It is your turn.
Battlemap:
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dallid keeps up his tried and true whip-bite from Ferelyon
whip Attack: 21 Damage: 9
Ferelyon bite Attack: 13 Damage: 12
Paladin - warforged - orange
Bump
Paladin - warforged - orange
Night of the Living Nachtschreck - Round #4 - Dallid's Turn
Dallid's Turn
With a savage flourish, Dallid's whip cracks against the remaining nachtschreck, its ethereal form sparking and crackling in response. Though weakened, the creature stubbornly clings to the realm of the living, its body intermittently fading in and out of existence. Ferelyon, sensing his master's need, leaps forward with jaws agape, but the nimble spirit manages to evade the attack, rolling to the side.
Rahadin's Turn
Rahadin's piercing gaze falls upon Dallid's whip, sizing up both the weapon and its bearer with unnerving scrutiny. Without a word, the dusk elf slashes his scimitar with lethal precision, delivering a rapid succession of blows to the last remaining nachtschreck.
Rahadin's scimitar misses the mark with its first swing, but the dusk elf quickly regains his composure and delivers two savage slashes against the nachtschreck. Psychic shrieks emanate from the dying spirit and fill the air, it is clear that the creature is teetering on the brink of permanent death.
Dormark - "Finish it," Rahadin's voice creeps like a ghostly whisper. To the north, the last of the wretched spirits lingers, its mind twisted by an age-old wrong, beyond redemption. The creature is on the brink of oblivion, but this is not the end of the terror that still holds you within this realm. As you gather your resolve, you focus on the present danger, sharpening your mind for the task at hand. It's your turn to act.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Dormark moves forward, towards the last spirit and swings at it with his mace.
Attack: 18 Damage: 14
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Bump for attention.
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Night of the Living Nachtschreck - Round #4 - Dormark's Turn
Dormark's Turn
Dormark charges towards the remaining malevolent spirit, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. With his mace in hand, he delivers a powerful blow to the creature, shattering its ethereal body and bringing it to a permanent end. As the spirit dissolves into nothingness, it lets out a final, mournful cry, "Curse thee, Conqueror!" before vanishing forever.
ALL - The valiant souls who once stood against the ruthless tyranny of Strahd have been laid to rest, their spirits finally free from the taint of corruption and twistedness that had befallen them over the long years—end of initiative.
"You unscathed?" Rahadin growls as you gather with the newcomers, his tone devoid of any compassion. The clamour of voices long silenced by his blade reverberates within your mind, a stark reminder that though the nachtschrecks may have met their demise, countless other tormented spirits still roam these lands, their fate unknown and their suffering unending.
Ioben, bearing the marks of cruel torture, pushes his way past Strahd's minion, his eyes sunken and his voice strained. "Friends," he gasps, his relief palpable, "Gods, it's good to see you all alive and well!" Tears well up in his eyes as he continues, "I...I am sorry for what I have put you through."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"It is alright Ioben, we are a little worse for wear, but we must press forward if we are to find an escape... but I know something about these events that make them all the more dire. The man I have been seeking has had a hand in this plot. I fear he turned Alano into what he currently is. If the man in in these halls... it is imperative that we find him," says Dormark.
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
"Then lead on, Dormark, the sooner that we are out of this place!"
Unaware that he had been holding his breath for the last couple of seconds, Sandu let out a sigh upon seeing the spirits dissipate. It was quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when he laid his eyes upon the last person to join the fray. He rubbed his eyes for good measure. He still was there even after two more vigorous rubs.
'Ioben?' Sandu asked. He was unsure whether the man was truly the man he knew or just some other apparition conjured here to mess with him? He tentatively reached out a hand and touched solid flesh. He pulled the man in closer. 'What in the Nine Hells has happened to you?'
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Night (Unknown) - Day 8 - Friends Reunited
Sandu's embrace is returned with desperate urgency as Ioben begins to recount the events that have transpired. Though only days have passed, he looks as though he has lived through a lifetime of hardship since parting ways with the group. "Gods, Sandu," he curses through gritted teeth, his voice still weak. "I have been a fool. A damnable fool!" he says, hanging his head in shame.
In the dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casts long shadows across Ioben's face as he begins to tell his story. "It was the ladies from the Blue Water Inn," he says, his tone heavy with regret. "They delivered a message, an invitation. I was to meet someone of great importance, someone who could help us rid the land of... him," he hisses, casting a dark glance at his wounded hand. "Jeze'baal was persuasive, she knew how to appeal to my desires. She spoke of an ancient pact the Count had broken and promised that she could help us defeat him."
Rahadin shifts on his feet, his expression unreadable. "Please, continue," he drawls, his voice low and measured.
"As you can imagine, I couldn't resist the opportunity to potentially turn the tide in our favour," Ioben continues, his voice growing more animated. "I left a hidden message for you ((Post #2460)), Sandu, and set off to meet Jeze'baal in Krezk. But when I arrived, things were not as I had expected - instead of a warm welcome I received nothing but coldness. Lady Dubois, one of Jeze'baal's servants, kept me hidden away from sight. I was told to wait before being granted an audience with Jeze'baal, but I had to endure what felt like an eternity of isolation and suspicion."
Ioben nervously bites his lip, a rare sight from a seasoned gambler. His wary eyes dart around the dimly lit room, as though he expects danger to pounce on him from the shadows. "It was all a lie, Sandu," he whispers hoarsely, his voice barely above a breath. "One second I was being held in an expansive mansion in the heart of Krezk... the next I woke up bound and stripped within this place -- wherever this place is. Rather than the saviour I thought she was, Jeze'Baal became my tormentor."
A wave of unease washes over Ioben, the faux-confidence dissipating. "She yearned to know the depths of our being, the intricacies of our pasts, and the purpose that led us to Barovia. Her obsession with our arrival was unquenchable, believing it to be preordained; expecting me to provide some great revelation to her questions. Jeze'Baal was convinced that our fates were inextricably linked to the future of this land and that the key to unlocking it all lay within us," Ioben explains with a sombre tone, his eyes still scanning the room for any signs of danger.
Ioben pauses, visibly troubled. "Her misguided beliefs drove her to extreme measures and for every question I could not answer, I..." His voice trails off and he rubs the scars on his body. "That is to say, I displeased her. Though I did learn that she sought to draw you all here, believing that she could prevent, or at least shape, whatever destiny we share with this cursed land."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
Sandu devoted his entire attention to the words Ioben spoke. He had been a fool all right, but at least he recognised it: going off alone in Barovia was just asking for trouble. Sandu could understand the intent though. As unbelievable as it sounded, the idea that there was someone else working against Strahd offering an alliance was tempting on the surface. Just a shame that, like everything he had seen so far in Barovia, there was too much nastiness below said surface.
'Who is this Jeze'Baal?' Sandu asked. The name rolled unpleasingly off his tongue, like the sound of it soured his mouth. 'You're saying she's been luring us here?'
He pondered his own question. To what end? What had their group to offer that others could not? They were outsiders: did this Jeze'Baal perchance think that they could somehow get out of Barovia? Whatever the case, Sandu did not like the sound of her assuming that they were somehow linked with the land. If anything, he was sick of Barovia. Sick to his stomach and he would love nothing more than to leave it all behind.
He turned to the others. 'Well, we're all here now. Let's not give this Jeze'Baal a chance to sink her claws into us.' He pulled Ioben to his feet. 'Let's get out of here.'
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Night (Unknown) - Day 8 - Revelations
Ioben absently scratches at the back of his head as he speaks, his tone hesitant. "The true nature of Jeze'Baal eludes me. Though it is clear that she holds some measure of sway over Barovia, of that I am certain. I had hoped she would be an ally, a saviour amidst the inhospitable horrors of this land," he pauses, swallowing hard. "Alas, my hopes were unfounded. Whoever, or whatever, Jeze'Baal is, she wields immense and dark powers. She may even be one of the reasons that Strahd was able to overcome those that previously dwelt within Barovia."
Sandu - Please make an insight check
Ioben gratefully accepts Sandu's assistance and rises to his feet, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes. "If we can find a way to weaken her," he ponders, "it may be the key to breaking the Count's hold over the land."
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
A very average 11 Insight check
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
Sandu's insight check:
As Ioben shares his account of events, a small voice at the back of your mind whispers doubts; Has he revealed all there is to know? Has he been truthful about his experiences? You can't help but wonder if he is keeping something back. Yet, you cannot ignore the visible signs of trauma etched on his face - a testimony to the horrors he has endured since your last meeting.
The glint in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw make it clear that there are still wounds that have not yet fully healed. Perhaps, he is simply unable to articulate everything that he has gone through. Or maybe, the fear of retribution still hangs heavy over his head, even in this moment of relative safety. Regardless of the reason, you sense that he has only shared what he feels is necessary for your immediate goals.
DM - The Call of Strahd (CoS); Feyrealm Campaign, Chapter 0 - Bleak Prospect (BP), Chapter 1 - Destination Unknown (DU)
"First thing first, we need to get out of here, hopefully without any more fighting considering the condition everyone is in," says Dormark
Dormark Calling of Strahd (warforged cleric) 4
Sandu eyes Ioben with concern. Above all other things, getting him out of this place and some proper medical care was paramount.
'Yes, let's hope we don't run into any more unpleasantness.' Sandu looked around hoping to see a way out.
Any ways out of the battlefield?
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus
*Le bump*
Everyone had a busy labour day weekend?
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Tyrgram, the Butterfly Knight: Dwarf Warlock - Secret of Greenwold
Iòlinder Corrach: Half Elf War Cleric - Allansia Adventure
Valerius Sergius Publius: Dhampir Paladin - Vae Victus