Logs

Logs Home

2001 April 14

2001 April 21

2001 April 28

2001 May 26

2001 June 02

2001 June 08

2001 June 30

2001 July 07

2001 July 14

2001 July 21

2001 July 31

2001 August 06

2001 August 13

2001 October 13

2001 October 20

2001 October 29

2001 November 03

2001 November 17

2001 November 24

2001 November 27

2001 December 01

2001 December 15

2001 December 22

2001 December 29

2002 January 12

2002 January 19

2002 January 26

2002 February 23

2002 March 02

2002 March 28

Inizii

Inizii Home

House Rules

Dramatis Personae

NPCs

Game Logs

Realms

Realms Home

Dishonored

Goblin Town

Neverneverwhere

The Whole of the Law

Waking Dreams

When The Bough Breaks


One-Shot

Retired

Birthright

Burning Man

Cosmic Guardians

DNAnimals/Tamashii

Fukusei Crystals

Heartwood

Hunter

Idlewild

Indigo

Inizii

Morning Rain

NachtMusik

Oloth

Paradon

Scarred Lands

Shattered Stars

Starfall

Weston


Style Test

Reality Fault

Home

Player

Character

Referee

Programmer

Administrator

Operations


Search RealityFault:

General Info

Glossary

Realms

Events

Credits

Help Files

Help Files (old)


Reality Fault

Realms: Inizii Logs

Lord Grim

Silniya, coming up beside Kyrel, stops short, pausing with her blade drawn. She makes a sidelong glance at the wizard, before looking at the tentacle-waving caterpillar. "You good here?" she asks the mage.

Derleth curses as the tentacled monstrosity attacks him. "Damme bugs." he curses, leaving Azler to deal with the bow-wielding skeleton as he sets to receive the crawler's charge, flail drawn back to deliver a blow.

Kyrel says, "Watch the tentacles. They paralyze." He readies his bow.

Silniya, nodding, walks forward, drawing her short sword as well. She steps up quickly to the beast's flank. One swing, then the second; a sharp overhead chop, followed with the point of her shorter weapon. The downward sweep proves rather effective; the blade cleaving across the creature's head and hewing a tentacle from its spot. The second, however, is deflected by the crawler's chitin armor. Up ahead, Azler doesn't seem to have noticed the new foes, and the sound of powdering bone echoes down the hall, as the skeleton's form shatters. The priest turns and recoils in alarm.

Derleth doesn't see Azler's reaction, too intent on his attacker, and brings down his flail as the worm comes within range...

Crunch. Tentacles snap and squirm, as the flail cracks into the creature's skull, part of its armor caving in under the square head, ichor trickling out. Its mandibles click angrily, but though the creature looks worse for wear, its tentacles come to bear, snapping mainly at the cleric, though two of them snap toward the blade-bearing woman.

Silniya dances aside and parries the incoming slaps of the slimy tentacles. However, Derleth isn't so lucky; though three of the attacks glance off his armor or miss completely, a fourth gets past his guard, slapping the short man in the face. The secretion on the tentacle sinks into his flesh, his skin flushing red, before his movements slow and then stop. He crashes to the ground, anger at his plight unexpressed except as an incoherent mumbling.

From the first portcullis door, the closest to the fray, another flash of yellow and green can be spotted. Another of the creatures slides from its hole, this one slapping a few tendrils at the warrior before turning its attention to the more distant mage. Its aim is true, and with Silniya distracted by the other one, it succeeds in touching her with two of its tentacles. Silniya jerks away from the first, but as the second lands, its venom takes effect, sending her to her back in paralysis.

Kyrel mutters curses in Elven as his fellows drop in their tracks. And with everyone in the way, I'll have to use the magic missile. He murmurs the arcane syllables again, and the green bolts flare out at the crawlers.

The bolts zip in, cracking repeatedly into the face of the oncoming crawler, crushing the base of a tentacle in its wake, snapping into one of its eyes, caving it in. The beast is not happy, its head thrashing about. One of Kyrel's bolts arcs over its head, and just happens to impact right into the hole Derleth had left, sending another spray of ichor. That one stops moving. However, down the hall, another of the creatures emerges from the third chamber and begins to move toward the pileup. Azler, running up behind it, swings his morning star. The spiked star hits with a satisfying crunch. Spikes and steel crash into the beast's abdomen, producing a surprised and unhappy clicking. The one Kyrel barraged comes on, its tentacles leading.

The swinging storm of the tentacles slaps Kyrel roughly, four direct strikes, its sticky poison seeping into his flesh, leaving him helpless. The one Azler assaulted turns, coming in on the last of its opponents. The priest is quickly subdued, tentacles weaving over his form, hitting exposed skin easily, and its sickly secretions stilling his movements.

As the mage lies stiff under the paralysis, he can only watch as the assaulting beast's tentacles probe his prone form. Its remaining eye looks him over before the crawler bites his boot and starts to drag him. Similar sounds come from the other direction, as Azler's body begins to drag across the stone floor. The crawler's mandibles dig into the half-elf's foot, slicing into skin as it draws him toward its nest. Instinctively, it repeatedly touches him with its tentacles to keep its venom fresh. As he's dragged into the cell, the smell of rot is worse, the sight of bones, cloth gone to rot, and rusted armor can be seen amid the debris. Once he's arranged to the creature's satisfaction, it makes its way back out, sliming him with a tentacle one last time. The crawlers go back out to retrieve their other victims, but are interrupted as cruel laughter resounds through the hall.

The clink of bone on stone sounds, fainter than the laughter. Derleth spots skeletal forms grasping the crawler headed his way, and although its tentacles weave to paralyze its attackers, it is in vain. Several bony hands push the beast into the empty cell. Kyrel can see his own assailant worm being pushed back into its hole, the beast struggling. As it bumps against the wizard, he's turned on his side, nearly face to face with pulsing, pea-green eggs, pressed into the corner of the cell. Harsh chuckles fill his ears, as bony hands grasp his tunic, dragging him out of the cell. Shortly afterwards, the portcullises slam shut. "This is too rich," the voice mutters.

Stone scrapes. One of the portcullises rises, the undead dragging Derleth and Silniya inside, pulling the Ilmaterian out. A figure steps into the third cell, wearing green and black robes streaked through with purple veins. He ties the pair up, but leaves them face down, wrists to backs, weapons confiscated from them. Derleth's holy symbol is taken, pocketed by the green-robed man. A dirty rag is shoved into his mouth. Kyrel is roughly hoisted up onto the shoulders of two undead servants, Azler likewise. The last portcullis shuts, as the green-robed man steps out. "You gentlemen," he announces, "Are coming with me."

The green-robed cleric, scarred and thin almost to the point where he looks malnourished, strips Kyrel of anything that seems important, his pouch, his quiver, and his weapons, then ties his wrists together. The skeletons hold the pair the entire time. After inspecting the pouch, he stores the confiscated items inside and repeats the process with Azler.

Derleth and Silniya are left prone in their prison. Kyrel and Azler are shouldered and half-dragged down the stone hallway. After another bend, there is a room with two doors on either side. Feeling starts to come to Kyrel's fingers, his tongue less thick, limbs starting to ease up. The mage twitches as feeling comes slowly back to his body. Stay with Derleth for now, Kiri. Don't let them see you, though. The wizard's familiar sends back his understanding, staying in a dark corner of the corridor.

A square room, fashioned more like a wine cellar then the sublevel of some evil force comes into view, wooden stairs leading upward. The green-robed man turns, the wicked scourge at his belt in plain view. "Well. Congratulations on your success," he gloats, voice edged with the same venom as his calling. "Now, what to do with you. Obviously," he points to Azler, "We're going to torture you, sacrifice you perhaps. Maybe even let the undead eat you alive. That should be fun to watch." Despite his paralysis, Azler's hatred is obvious in his gaze. The scourge-wielding man turns back to Kyrel. "As to you... Hmm."

Kyrel grunts. "We're not ... only ones who know... If you leave now ... can probably still escape."

Horrid breath washes over Kyrel's face, as the man laughs. "That's rich. You definitely have a shiny pair. Who's going to come and save you? The churches? Ha! They're men. If enough money was passed out, they'd turn their head. Political sway, what have you, the-"Azler seems to be over his paralysis, yet his muscles are still sluggish. He jerks in the skeletons' grasp, trying to pull from them. The green-robed man shifts, and punches Azler full in the nose. The cleric's nose breaks with a sickening crunch, and blood trickles down the Ilmaterian's lip. Pulling his fist back and wiping off the spattered blood, the Talonite growls, "Now then, do I have to repeat myself?" His eyes are on Azler, but his words are directed to the mage, as well.

Kyrel shakes his head. "Isn't... all 'bout money. This... is b'yond bribes."

"Enough." He turns, and gestures for a skeleton at the far corner to walk toward him. It seems similar to all the others, except its mouth is firmly shut, and its wearing a cloak. Flickers of flames play behind its teeth. "Stand there." He points between the two men and their undead wardens. "If they move, open your mouth." He eyes the pair. "If you try to get away, you will be charred corpses." He pulls part of the skeleton's cloak aside, to expose the flasks of oil strapped to its ribcage and hips. With that, he turns, walking up the stairs.

Kyrel waits for a time, letting his body come back to normal as the crawler's venom wears off. "Any ideas, Azler? I'm not all that fireproof."

The priest seems very agitated, but stands rigid. "I'm not moving." Blood still runs down his face.


Silniya's body starts to twitch as the venom begins to wear off. She growls, rolling on her side, trying to pull out of the rope's grip, though her muscles are still weak, slow to recover from the toxin.

Derleth sighs. Helpless, weaponless, and paralyzed, he attempts to keep from drawing attention to himself, in that hope that the Lady hasn't abandoned him completely. He grunts as life returns to his body, and he tries to shove himself back into the corner of his cell.

Silniya twitches, and scoots towards Derleth. "Do you have any tricks on you?"

Derleth sighs. "One. An it's nae much o' a trick."

She struggles with the rope about her wrists. "This is not fun. I could become a wolf, but I'm unsure, with how my arms are positioned, if it wouldn't break them. If I shift into the mixed form, my armor is ruined."

Derleth grunts. "Den mebbe my trick isnae any good o' a trick after all."

She grunts. "Maybe we could untie one another?" There's a pause, while she considers the chances of her bones actually breaking from the stress. "Hold on. Derleth, can you heal?"

Derleth says, "Nae. No holy symbol."

She swears. "All right. Then, I'm going to give this a try. If it doesn't work...then we're in trouble."

Her form ripples, shudders, her clothing starting to turn in on herself, as her structure begins to shape, pushing inward, growing hairy. Her wrists thin; as her shoulders relocate, they start to bend wrongly, but the rope turns slack enough to free them without any real damage. The wolf shakes the bonds off, ears back and recoiling from the scent in the cell, much more powerful now to a sensitive nose. She moves to Derleth's side, and starts gnawing at his bonds. The cleric growls, trying to pulls free from his bonds as the wolf gnaws on them. "Ah hope some Talonite burns 'erself touching mah flail..." He blinks, something occurring to him even as Sil chews at the ropes binding him...."Kyrel! Where be ye?"


The door at the top of the stairs opens. The stairs squeak, as shuffling feet start down them, by the sound apparently attached to slow, stiff limbs.

Kyrel turns slightly to look toward the stairs. Now what?

Derleth's call reaches the mage, although it echoes slightly. The stairs creak and the shuffling figure comes into view in the meager light. A zombie, reeking of decay, steps down, and simply stands at the bottom of the steps, a revolting sentinel.

The wolf finally yanks loose the knot, barking in both triumph and annoyance. She pedals backward, and is soon Silniya once more. "There."

Derleth nods. "Right. Gimme a moment..." He crawls over to the portcullis, trying to determine if there's a guard of any kind, but sees none. The two surviving crawlers are trapped in their cells, and nothing else can be seen. They sound very displeased, with their new wounds and lack of meals. Now and then, a green tentacle swipes between the bars, only to recede back into its cell.

Kyrel sighs, and calls back. "We're okay for now, Derleth, but he's got most of our gear. Are you all right?"

Derleth says, "Nae quite." he calls back. "Ah'll be better when ah get t' carve Lliara's symbol in't that smug bastard's face. Hold tight, mage." The cleric suddenly shifts, and uses his ring's last charge of the day to turn into the snow fox. Once that's done, he squeezes easily through the bars of the portcullis.

Derleth wuffs after checking for guards, and then changes back, reaching up and grabbing the lever to open the cell. "Kyrel be daewn the hall." he murmurs quietly.

There is a switch, near each cell, and a large one at the northern corner, beside what's left of the skeleton. Derleth, pulling the one by the third cell, lets the bars open up. Silniya steps out, shaking herself a moment before glancing about. "We need some sort of weapons."

Derleth smiles grimly. "Depends on what we be facing, lass. Ye reminded me o' something: ah dinnae need a symbol for divine healing: one o' the few prayers that dinnae require it. An' if ah got that, wi' only undead t' face, that be all ah need."

She nods, smiling just as darkly back. "Well then, let us go on." She takes a step, bone crunching under heel. Glancing downward, she spies the bow and quiver left by the skeletal sentry. "Hello..." Picking up the crude weapon, and a scant few arrows, she nods to the cleric. "At least it's usable."

Derleth creeps down the hall, and then looks about, seeing if Kiri follows.

Kiri, chirping, wings towards the pair, flitting about in the air behind them, but staying at a distance. Silniya holds up her hand, and peers around the corner, as they reach it. Looking back, she mutters, "They're down the hall. Four skeletons at their backs, holding them. One between them, wearing a cloak."

Kyrel shifts in the grasp of the skeletons, and calls again. "Okay. Down the corridor and around the corner, we're being held by skeletons and a zombie, with a trapped skeleton between us. He's loaded down with oil. That fellow in the robes ordered him to set off the oil if we move, but I don't think he's been given any orders that take you into account."

Derleth mouths to Silniya. "How far?"

She glances down again. "I'd say about thirty feet." She gets an arrow, nocking it. "What should we do? Advance?"

Derleth shakes his head. "Put away the bow. Twill be o' little use against the skeletons." He tugs at his chin. "Ah got a plan....ah think..."

She nods. "Yes?"

Derleth palms the vial. "Kin ye change t' hybrid iff'n ye strip daewn?" he says quietly.

She considers. "Yes. But, I don't know how effective I could be, against the skeletons. I doubt sinking my teeth into their throats would do a lot of good." She peers at the cleric. "You mentioned healing being effective? Why not take it yourself?"

Derleth says, "Ah kin take on the oil wielder meself, ah hope. But there be four skeletons an' a zombie besides, an' ah dinnae have an endless supply o' healin'. He glances back at the skeleton. "Mebbe ye can make a club out o' a leg bone?"

She glances down at the bow. "I think I can handle the zombie; it has flesh to pierce. As for the skeletons, I'm not sure how useful I could be against them." She considers the cleric's suggestions. "It's up to you. Maybe..." She pauses, and considers. "Point. You know, that's not a bad idea. But, you're the weaponless one, here."

Derleth shakes his head. "Once ah take daewn the oil skeleton, ah'll need ye t' back me up by attackin' the ones holdin' Ky an' Az. Ye keep the club. When ah charge, give me a ten count, and then attack them."

She holds up a hand. "A moment. You needn't waste all your healing." She shoulders the bow and quiver, then walks back into the carrion crawler's cell. Returning with a yellow, slimy bone, she collects the upper leg bones of the shattered skeleton and offers the cleric one of the less grimy ones, "A weapon for you. This is rather crude; I'm not aware how much training priests are put through, in the art of weaponry, but a crude weapon should be easy enough, no?"

Kyrel calls back once more. "Just be careful. The trapped one has a fireseed in his mouth."

Derleth nods and tucks the bone in his belt. "Wish m' luck, Sil, since th' Lady's seems t' be in short supply fer me." he says with a sheepish grin.

She nods, and takes a bone in either hand. "Don't charge in. If they're focused on those two, as Kyrel said, and those have their backs to us, we can get close enough to attack without needing to run, nor waste your potion."

Derleth shakes his head. "Can't be sure, lass. Have to hedge me bets." He drinks the potion down, wipes his mouth, and then winks, smiling tiredly. "Once more in't the fray..." He then wheels around the corner and charges silently, preparing to shoulder aside the undead holding his companions as he makes for the oil-wielding skeleton...

Kyrel warns his familiar to stay back. This'll be nasty, little friend, and there's no good reason for you to get hurt. We'll be free soon.

Silniya follows suit, rounds the corner, and charges after the cleric, keeping pace with him, the bone clubs in her hands.

Derleth thrusts his arms out, murmuring the prayer to Lliara to turn one of his greater spells to holy energy....his hands glowing as he tries to make physical contact with his target....

Derleth shoves the skeletons gripping Kyrel and Azler's flanks, his spell striking the cloak-wearer squarely in the chest. Positive energy flows through its form, obliterating the negative energy that kept it animated. The corpse simply crumples into a pile of bones, the head rolling toward the stairs. The zombie starts towards the scuffle, groaning in irritation...and then the skull explodes, as that undead steps on it, breaking the lower jaw.

Silniya comes in right behind Derleth, swinging the club at the skeleton that was dislodged in Derleth's wake.

The femur comes in, shattering its ribs, and getting tangled in its spine. The force of the blow, and the force of her weapon pulling loose, sends it sprawling to the floor. The zombie is reeling, one arm blown off in the magical explosion. Kyrel waits until Derleth and Silniya attack, and when one of his guardians goes down, he tries to pull loose from the other. The wriggling half-elf squirms from the skeleton's grasp, breaking a finger from the bony enemy in the process.

One of the skeletons breaks from holding Azler down, letting its claws come into play against Silniya, the closest enemy. Even as it swings and claws at her arm, the werewoman doesn't flinch.

Kyrel spins away from the skeleton, reaching down to grab a leg-bone from the erstwhile trap. "Now, let's see if we can do something with this..."

Azler tries to pull from the last skeleton's grip, but his muscles spasm, still not fully recovered from the crawler's venom.

Derleth does not stop to revel in his success, grabbing the bone from his belt and swinging it at the nearest skeleton with blinding speed! His makeshift club cracks the skeleton on the hip, breaking that bone. The second strike breaks its leg, sending it to the floor, where the other one is starting to rise up.

Silniya advances on the one at Kyrel's back, and splinters its skull. It happens to fall on the two tangled on the ground, sending all three down.

Kyrel moves across to where Azler is still trying to pull away from the last skeleton, and swings at the creature. His swing connects with the skeleton's elbow, snapping it easily. Now freed from the grip, Azler pulls away, though the disembodied forearm and hand clings to his shoulder until they are ripped off by the priest.

Derleth continues his vicious attack, trying to make his opponent stay down.

The cleric simply pounces on the remaining one, and turns it into a heap of bones. Silniya, ignoring the last skeleton, jumps over the flasks of oil and bones toward the oncoming zombie, using her club as a makeshift spear and shoving forward.

The bone plants itself firmly between the zombie's eyes. Its head tilts back, to the sound of popping vertebrae. The remaining arm pinwheels, and without the other to counterbalance sends it in an odd corkscrew as it falls to the ground.

Azler, now free, simply lowers his shoulder, and rams into the remaining skeleton. As the two meet the wall, the bone warrior simply falls apart.

Kyrel says, "Now that's more like it. Old green-robes was in a tearing hurry to get somewhere. With any luck, we can catch him with whomever he wanted to meet. I've still got the wherewithal for a few spells." Just at that moment, the door at the top of the stairs opens. "Ah, now, where are my burned corpses?" A familiar voice calls, boots hitting the stairwell.

The Talonite marches down the stairs. Azler growls a moment, and takes up a femur, moving to the side of the steps. Silniya takes up her bow, and, loading it, waits until a good shot is lined up, before loosing the arrow.

The arrow strikes the stairs, between the priest's legs. He jerks upward. "What in the nine hells? Damn it!" He reaches upward, taking his holy symbol in hand, and quickly weaves a spell.

Silniya blinks a moment before snarling at the miserable shot, shaking her head quickly.

Derleth charges forward with a feral yell, attacking with his bone club! The green-robed man's eyes open wide as the little cleric bounces up the stairs and cracks him savagely across the cheek, and then nearly doubling over when a second swing scores across his stomach.

Kyrel mutters an incantation, once more sending the green levinbolts toward an opponent. The streaking bolts collide into the bombarded cleric's body, nearly sending him onto his backside. Azler, seeing that Derleth hasn't waited, jumps up, grabs hold of the railing alongside the stairs, props himself with a foot, and swings his club over. He connects solidly with the green-robed man's throat. The two clerics have quite the view of the Talonite's throat collapsing as the man falls on the stairs, weakly trying to reach his throat with a hand, and his holy symbol, gurgling painfully. A last twitch, and no more.

Derleth spits on the corpse. "Enjoy yer painful afterlife, bastard." He stumbles backwards a little then, suddenly a little woozy as the haste potion and adrenaline rush wear off at the same time.

Azler climbs over the railing, and one-ups Derleth. He plants his foot firmly on the dead cleric's chest. He grits his teeth, as he stomps his foot, several times, breaking the symbol of Talona and shoving the pieces into the cleric's body.

Derleth arches an eyebrow at the acts of a priest of Illmater, but doesn't argue, instead just retrieving his own holy symbol from the priest's pocket. As he does so, retrieving Lliara's symbol, something else touches his fingertips. He blinks, and withdraws it curiously. It's a wand.

Kyrel whistles for Kiri, and spends a little time soothing the worried bat while the clerics check the body. He can see his Bag of Holding on the fellow's body, so he's content to wait until he can retrieve his gear.

Derleth studies it curiously,. "Ky, what d'ye think o' this trinket?" he says, handing it to the mage.

Azler spies it curiously, as well. He takes the bag of holding from the corpse, before glancing back at the wand. "My guess is, it's not an arcane wand; why would this wretch carry anything he couldn't use?"

Derleth hmmms, looking to see if there's a command word etched on the wand, and finding Strike etched into it. He shrugs and puts it aside for later.

The four unload their gear from the bag, getting the assorted weapons and materials, before the bag is returned to Kyrel. Silniya, her familiar weapons now in hand, flexes her grip on their hilts. "Now, let's go up."

Kyrel rechecks his spell components and his books, making sure they're present. "Very good. Hmm... a bit light for a staff, wouldn't you think? We'll have to test it somewhere safe."

Azler nods. The werewoman glances curiously at the mage. "Shall we move on?"

Kyrel says, "The command word doesn't have to mean anything about what it does. Saw a fireball wand once with the command word bunny...." He nods to Silniya. "I think so, yes. Maybe we can still manage to surprise them."

She smirks. "Not bloody likely." The werewoman moves up front, both blades ready. She heads up the stairs, and eases the door open. After a glance, she pauses. The door creaks back into place as she calls down, "A skeleton."

Kyrel says, "No surprise. The place is filthy with undead."

She nods... and kicks the door in. She stoops down a little ways, listening for the sound of bones hitting the ground. She peeks around the doorframe. "All clear," she grins.

Kyrel chuckles. "They do seem to be disorganized. I prefer subordinates with initiative."

"Well, this one sort of bristled when I came at it. But, otherwise..." She shrugs. The four move out. A burnt out rune smolders on the wall, beside the skeleton. Up ahead, a door can be spotted, opened slightly.

Kyrel peers at the expended rune. "Strange... what's been going on here?"

Silniya gestures with the tip of her longsword, toward the cracked doorway. "Who should inspect?"

Kyrel readies his bow again, in case the next turn of the hallway reveals something nasty. He shrugs, and whispers back, "Does it matter?"

"Point." She moves to the doorway, and pushes it open just a bit... before waving the mage over, after a second. "I think there's something to this." Kyrel comes up beside the werewolf and peers in.

It looks like any other servant's quarter room, except that it is decorated in rather drab, dark colors. Silniya's point of interest seems to be the writing desk in the corner. An oil lamp glows, casting light over sheets of parchment, and there is a rack along the wall, with sheaves of paper poking out from it.

Kyrel says, "Indeed. This might be our late friend's workroom. Let's see what he's got here." The half-elf walks carefully into the room toward the desk, then turns the sheets of parchment around with the tip of a dagger. "Hmmm..."

It seems to be half-complete work on a scroll. It's a rather novice spell, and a necromantic one, by the looks of it. There are pots of ink, smelling somewhat foul, and a dark quill at the side. Derleth and Azler move into the room. Silniya peers at the writing. "Wizardry, or Divine?"

Kyrel says, "Wizardry. Necromancy, to be precise. No surprise, eh? But... novice stuff. Nothing close to what we were up against just now."

Azler removes one of the sheaves of paper on the rack, inspecting in the dim light. "It's not divine magic, and another scroll. Methinks this is the apprentice's room?"

Kyrel nods. "Most likely. One of the higher-ups would have a fancier place to live. Let's see what we've got there..."

The werewoman nods. "If this is his place, then his book is likely close by?"

At closer inspection, Kyrel can tell that the unfinished scroll is for another novice spell, some form of bolt of negative energy.

Kyrel says, "Aye. Definitely a beginner... I wonder where he keeps his book?" He starts searching the room more closely. After a brief bit of hunting, the false bottom of a footlocker is found by the mage. Pulling it up reveals a leather bound book.

Kyrel grins to himself. "Hardly seems worth the trouble... there's only so many places to hide the thing, after all." He sets it on the desk and opens it. A brief look shows a wide range of spells, the majority necromancy, but a few of divination, transmutation, and evocation. After a brief thumbing through, the aptitude level of the apprentice is obvious; the spells only range as high as summoning forth a bolt of lightning. However, there are a few rather unique spells, as well. "Oh-ho... Greater Sleep. That might prove interesting."

Silniya tips her head. "Do you find any of this to your usage, Kyrel? There are enough scrolls here, to perhaps help us with the coming strife."

Kyrel says, "Interesting. Not unexpected, it's mostly necromantic.. some interesting things in here, though. Let's stuff it in my bag and see what else there may be. Looks like this fellow was assigned to scroll writing."

Kyrel continues looking through the mage's spell book. He hmmms a few times, and murmurs to himself in Elven. Very interesting...

Derleth seems to be busy studying the wand, to see if there's any other clue that might hint at its function. Of course, this is met with limited success considering most of hiis magical divinations are cast, and he's neither a mage, nor very trained in that lore.

Azler eyes the item curiously. "I've neither the power to check on it, myself, but mayhap the best course is to simply use it?" A shrug.

Derleth glances back at Kyrel. "We shouldnae be idle overlong, Ky. E'en if Grim an' his reluctant second think us captured, there still be the new plague t' worry about...

Silniya paces back and forth, fingers flexing at the hilts of her weapons. "We're undoubtedly about to walk into the battle, no?"

Derleth grunts at Azler. "Aye. But as ah'm want t' say, chance favors the prepared, Azler." He smiles grimly at Silniya. "That t'would be th' idea, swordlady."

The Ilmaterian gives a lopsided grin. "And they say that fortune favors the brave. Testing a wand unknowing may be stupid, but good luck may follow?" Behind him, the woman chews at her lip. "Then, I'm thinking it may be best if I simply changed now; got out of my armor. In between, there's more strength and speed in my bones." Azler gives a curious glance Derleth's way, then looks at the woman.

Kyrel says, "I'd be surprised if not. I suspect the fellow talking through the skeleton wasn't the same one we just killed. He's got the spells for it here, though. Never saw them before. Never even heard of them... but I'm not into necromancy. At least three like that. There's a Sensory Link that lets a mage link into an undead's senses.... Voice of Deathly Whispers, that's what he was using to talk with us... and Conduit. That's a nasty idea. Watch out for this one... looks like the user can fire spells off remotely using an undead as a focus point. Better assume that skeletons may be armed and dangerous."

Derleth coughs, his face betraying only a slight bit of red. "Aye." and then turns away from the ranger, motioning Azler to do the same.

Derleth says over his shoulder, in response to Kyrel. "He? Nae. Twas a lackey, an' nae Lord Grim. E' as much admitted who he was during our conversation."

Kyrel chuckles at the clerics. "As you wish, Silniya. Would invisibility be useful to you after you shift? It doesn't work well against the undead, though, I should warn you..."

Silniya ponders, before shaking her head. "If anyone sees me and gets away, well, who will they profess to? What have I to hide; I'm just concerned with ruining my armor. I've already gone through one set recently." Azler listens curiously, then nods to Derleth and Kyrel. "If we're going to go into the thick of it, we should then prepare, no?"

Derleth puts his daggers back into his boots and harnesses. "Ye'll find nae argument from me, Sil." he says over his shoulder.

Kyrel nods. "I'd say so. Unless you want to retreat and come back with more firepower, but I think we should find out as much about this fellow as we can first. With enough proof, his bribes won't do him much good."

The woman snorts. "I doubt you'd complain about my lack of armor." Azler shakes his head to the illusionist. "No, but I would suggest, if we're about to walk into the thick of it, we begin laying defensive magics down now."

Kyrel nods. "A good idea... do you have any that'll work against undead? My illusions tend not to work on things that aren't bright enough to think."

The priest considers. "Well... I am able to summon up a field that makes it more difficult for undead, but it's centered, so that would be best on the battlefield. Another that would bless us all, holy accuracy and a protection from fear, but that's limited, so best another time. Another that can shield another easily..." He considers a moment, before pointing at the wizard. "However, I think I may have something that would help you."

Derleth says, "It seemeth t' me that he would be more arrogant than anything else, Ky. Oh sure'n, me own get might get bought off...but what man or woman t'would truly think that a Talonite coul' pay off th' Church of Ilmater, great sum or nae?"

Azler nods grimly to Derleth.

Kyrel says, "I know. Either they're just talking to convince themselves, or they're planning to target the Ilmaterians first and hope to buy off other folks."

Derleth checks the blade of one of his daggers. "Meself, Ky, me own tactic is simple. A headless man pays nae bribes."

Kyrel looks disquieted at that thought. "And .. we know they've killed three Ilmaterians already. At least... I hope they're getting guards now."

"Gentlemen," Silniya opts, "If you would please look away?" She asks, turning her back to them, and putting the cloak over her shoulders. Azler puts his back to the woman, and considers the conversation. "Two."

Derleth has been looking away this whole time, gentle soul that he is.

Kyrel turns, though he doesn't tell Kiri to do so... "Two? I thought there were three. Let's keep it as low as we can, then."

Azler shakes his head. "The night before the sickness in the bazaar, it must've happened...in fact, he was found the morning you came into town, in a back alley in the Dock part of town. He was a young priest, and was likely making his rounds to check on a few men who had suffered wounds from a failed pirate attack, off the coast. He hadn't come back, that night..." The Ilmaterian spreads his hands.

Derleth says, "Coul' ha been a random killing. Or mebbe 'e saw sommat he weren't supposed to."

The Ilmaterian shakes his head. "Nay. He was killed, in the same fashion as the one in the richer part of the city. Surrounded by a seven point star and circle, in his blood. Oddly enough, he looked to have been subdued, knocked unconscious; the bruises were the cause. He died due to blood loss..." A finger runs from one wrist, across his collar bone, throat, and using the other hand, down his opposite arm to the wrist. "Bled out."

Derleth scratches his chin. "Odd. Sounds ritualistic like. Were the blood on the ground, or missing?"

"All of the blood seemed to have been used in the painting in the circle, as if it'd bled into the ground like that. Not just pooled."

Derleth grimaces. "Disgustin'."

Kyrel says, "He might have seen something, but that definitely sounds like our friends."

Azler nods. "Anyway, back to my original statement; Kyrel, I think I may have a spell that could help you out, and I might as well cast it now.

Kyrel says, "What is it?"

"A spell that protects you. Rather, I suffer half the wounds you take, rather than you taking the brunt of it."

Kyrel looks astonished. "If you think that's wise. I'll not object, if you wish to do it."

The priest nods. "I would prefer; not to insult, good mage, but I doubt you can take as many hits as I could. It's not your forte. You'll be needed to be offering us spells, and keeping you alive is very important." A shrug. "Besides, it is what we teach; to ease the suffering, to take the burden."

Kyrel nods. "Go ahead, then."

The priest takes from a component pouch two platinum rings, sliding one on his finger, then setting the other beside the mage on the desk. He gestures to place it on, as he gathers his holy symbol. "If you would."

Kyrel puts the ring on. "This links us, then?"

Azler nods, and chants slowly, holding out his holy symbol. A slight tingling rush runs up Kyrel's arm, spreading through his system. The rings give the faintest gleam for a moment, and the spell is complete.

Silniya steps up beside everyone, her cloak held closed, the cowl down. Azler turns, scrutinizing her appearance. "What are you about?"

Derleth says, "She's a shapechanger, Azler." He blinks as something occurs to him. "D'ye plan on leaving yer armor an' equipment 'ere then, Sil?"

He pauses. Holding up his holy symbol, the Ilmaterian chants a moment, before eyeing Silniya. He then gives a nod. "Fair enough." The werewoman turns to Derleth, parting her cloak to bare part of the fur-cloaked form, and her swords in hand. "I only need these." A gesture with a blade to the corner of the room, "My armor is over there."

Kyrel says, "Let's hope we don't have to leave by another route, then.... can we carry some of it along?"

Derleth grimaces. "Nae wi'out losing maneuverability. Let's jus be off. Iff'n we cleave daewn the opposing forces, there'll be nobbut t' steal it."

She pauses...then moves back, bringing the items in a sack over to Kyrel. "Can you fit these in your pouch?"

Derleth pauses, and then looks sheepish. "Or we could just put it in Ky's magic bag, aye."

Kyrel nods. "I should be able to get most of it in there... the bag isn't that full." He starts slipping things into it. He manages to get everything in, though a few of the pieces of armor are a tight squeeze. "There we are. Let's be off, then."

The four move out of the room, and down the hallway. A door squeaks, just ahead, but stays mostly shut. Silniya speeds up to it, blades ready...and pauses, glancing back in question. Or, at least, that seems to be the expression in her half-hidden lupine face.

Kyrel glances to the others, an eyebrow raised in question. Kiri flits over to the werewolf to check if there is enough of an opening for him to get through, but it is only cracked a sliver, not enough for the winged familiar to wriggle through.

Derleth purses his lips, and then mouths, Have Kiri check it.

Kyrel motions to Silniya, gesturing a gentle push on the door.

The wolven warrior nods, and nudges the door open. Kiri flits in, and a few moments later there is a very human, feminine scream.

Kiri flits back out, hanging on at the top of the door frame. He gives a brief chirp to Kyrel, then covers his head with his wings, giving a little annoyed snort.

Kyrel chuckles at Kiri's comment. "One female, in the corner, scared of bats. Kiri thinks she's silly."

Azler tips his head. "Might we question the skittish thing? Maybe she knows where we can find Grim."

Derleth hmmms. "Iff'n she's terrified o a simple bat, mebbe Sil shouldnae be the first through th' door."

The werewolf gives toothy grin. "Agreed," she replies.

Kyrel says, "She seemed to be trying to hide. I don't think she's necessarily one of our opponents. Let's go in, cautiously but not on a hair trigger."

Azler nods, then gestures to Derleth. "He seems to be the most nonthreatening of us all," A half-humored grin at the cleric's expense, "Why not send the glib-tongued one in?"

Derleth moves to go first, prodding the door to swing open with his flail. "Miss? Be ye well?" he says inquiringly, ignoring the jibes.

Kyrel chuckles. "I know him. He'll stammer if she's pretty..."

The reply is tentative at first. "No... There's a vampire bat loose! Wait... You're the intruders!"

Kiri chirps indignantly.

Derleth looks wounded, putting his hand to his chest. "We do nae be intruders any more than poor Kiri be a vampire bat, lady. He's partial t' crickets, nae human necks. Now come out, lass. We mean ye no harm."

Kyrel calls his familiar back and settles him down. "I know, Kiri, I know... she wouldn't know the difference between a vampire bat and a fruit bat if she got turned into one." He coughs. "Well, technically we are intruders, Derleth..."

Derleth waves a hand to Kyrel to be quiet.

The familiar wiggles under the wizard's tunic, snorting again. From behind the chopping block, a blonde head peeks out, before ducking behind. "Nay! You're not one of the masters, nor servants! The Lord put out an alarm..."

Derleth says, "Well, technically, this might be true, lass, but I assure ye that we yet mean ye no harm."

She stands up from behind the chopping block, wielding a meat cleaver like it was a club. "Don't you come a step closer!" She waves it threateningly, about as much as a wooden sword would be. "What are you about? What do you want?"

Kyrel says, "We're here to stop an epidemic. Since you don't look like you're involved, we won't harass you about it."

She waves her weapon emphatically. "Then, then go!"

Derleth would almost laugh at this silly situation if they weren't in the middle of an enemy stronghold. "T'would be helpful iff'n ye could point us in th' direction of Lord Grim's quarters though..." he asks hopefully.

She pauses a moment. "Uh... That would be upstairs!" She makes a pointing gesture down the hall. "Go down, take a right through the parlor. It'll open up to another hall; take the double doors. Those will lead you into the Main Foyer. Up the stairs and to the left is his study..."

She pauses. "You're...not going to hurt him, are you?"

Derleth tsks. "Ah nae, lass. Just out t' collect sommat from him, t'is all." Yeah, his head. he thinks.

A quick nod. "Oh. Because, he's a very nice man! Polite, respectable. His hand is very disturbing..." She gives a slight shiver, "But he's nothing like the arrogant little twit that studies down the hall, and that green robed man with the flagpole up his arse..."

Kyrel says, "His hand?"

She holds up her left hand, and bends them into points, making a clawing motion. "All boney and ugly. Fingers are sharp, too."

Kyrel says, "Hmm.... I think we met the fellow in the green robes...."

Derleth scratches his chin. "Ah, ye might wan t' stay here, lass, an nae go wanderin about the next few hours...we've nae a vampire bat, but we do ha' a werewolf, and she ain't eaten yet t'day. Not saying she'd eat ye, but...t'would be a good idea nae t' tempt her, aye?"

Derleth smiles, all folksy friendly like.

Silniya shoves Derleth in the shoulder.

The woman nods, and clutches her meat cleaver, still waving it. "Well...Get!" She says, making a shooing gesture.

Derleth smiles. "Ye have a nice day naew, ye hear?" With that, he backs up and closes the door.

Kyrel says, "Different. Wonder what's with Lord Grim's hand?"

The wolf warrior clangs her blades together. "Does it matter? Let us be off."

Kyrel says, "It might... sounds kind of like a lich..."

Derleth spikes the door closed with a couple pitons after a moment.

There's a sudden shout of "Hey! Don't do that!" from inside.

Derleth stifles a chuckle and doesn't respond.

Kyrel says, "Let's go on, then. We still haven't found the mage whose books I swiped."

Derleth shivers. "Lets hope it's nae a lich..."

Kyrel nods. "You've got that right..."

The four travel down the hall, Silniya in lead. Following the directions, they move through what could be a sitting room, with ornate chairs, tapestries, a rug from Tethyr, a land far south, above the shining sands of Calimshan, and other fineries. A door across the room leads into another hall, and, the four find the double doors...locked.

Derleth scratches his head. "Once more, Kaz would be an 'elpful companion.

Kyrel nods. "Aye, but he's not here. We'll have to make do." He looks around to see if there might be an alternate route. Breaking things down tends to be noisy.

Derleth looks around for a sturdy looking table.

The other doors are much smaller, appearing to branch off to little rooms. The double doors are at the end of the hall, adjacent to the dead end. Azler shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe we should...knock?"

Derleth says, "Let's check the other rooms, just in case. Dinnae want t' leave an enemy behind us."

Kyrel says, "A novel idea, knocking. Maybe I can impersonate ol' green-robes."

Several of the doors appear locked. One opens to expose very quaint, small quarters, suggesting servant's quarters. Another room gives the impression of a store room, though why one would be upstairs, rather then in the basement is a bit puzzling... Derleth takes a longer look. Boxes. More accurately, foodstuffs, blankets, tablecloths, cleaning materials, mending, several barrels that slosh when jarred, and a cabinet in the back that seems to house several chemicals in various bottles. The bottom cabinet refuses to open.

Derleth hmmms and tries to get the drawer open with a dagger. Its lock refuses to budge. Azler smirks. "This is pointless. We should either get in through those doors, or go back to the woman and get her to help us find another way."

Kyrel nods. "I agree. We're wasting time here. That's probably just the silverware anyway. C'mon. This fellow looks like he's got a legitimate front, at least, and we don't want to end up fighting with the Watch."

Derleth shakes his head. "Ahm nae gonna put an innocent 'tween us an' our enemy." he stands, leaving the drawer alone. "Let's just bust through."

Azler nods, and gestures for Derleth and Silniya to join him. "All right. On three, then?" He asks, raising his weapon.

Kyrel says, "On three..."

"One..."

Derleth brings his flail to the ready. "Two.."

"Three!" Silniya raises her swords, and swings in unison, Azler flanking.

Kyrel stays at the rear, ready to deal with anything too dangerous on the other side.

The weapons strike, cracking boards in the door, piercing others, one even breaking off a part of the jam. An angry shout bellows from beyond. "Stop that!" comes an annoyed, albeit friendly tone. "Do not wreck the door! If you're that anxious to get in, I'll have it opened for you in just a moment!"

Derleth looks at the others. "Is it just me, or are these th' strangest villains we've e'er come across?

Kyrel suppresses a chuckle at that, and stays ready... this should be interesting...

About thirty seconds later, the doors unlatch. "Come Iiiin!" calls the voice from inside.

Derleth reaches out, and gives the doors a push, but does not cross the threshold.

The doors swing open, revealing mostly darkness, except for an eerie green light that spills out from deeper in the room. In the doorway stands a skeleton that immediately rushes out, diving into the three at the front, and opens its mouth. Fire explodes in the air around it. Silniya is caught in the blast as the skeleton dives between her and Derleth. Azler and Kyrel are out of range. The werewolf suffers only a few singes, but snarls angrily. Derleth yells in pain and stumbles backwards. He recovers after a moment of surprise and glares into the room beyond, preparing to face anything else that lurks in the darkness. "So much for surprise." he mutters. The remains of the skeleton are scattered across the hall, too charred and shattered to have been effective shrapnel.

Kyrel snorts. "We knew that... Just because he's nice to the household servants doesn't mean he's a fun guy. Let's go."

The voice calls from inside. "So sorry, gentlemen! Come on in, we need to talk."

Kyrel says, "This might be true, or not. We would like an explanation, at the least."

Derleth doesn't enter, instead grabbing the rock from his satchel and quickly casting the light glamour on it before hurling it into the room.

The light shows a large foyer and grand doors probably leading outside. The edge of a stair, against the adjacent wall, curls upward to the second floor. "Oh come now! Come on in." Azler holds up a hand, and chants softly, letting the power of his god flood down.

Silniya looks from one to the other, and gestures with the tip of her sword. "Shall we?"

Kyrel says, "We can talk perfectly well from out here, without stepping into whatever trap that glow signifies. What do you think you're doing with the bodies, eh?"

"Gentlemen," He calls back, "This is no way to treat a host. The glow is simply off a wall I've erected for my own safety. I do have a request, though: If we're going to go about a fight, then I would ask you not to use any evocation spells. At least, none with a blast radius; the Manor isn't mine, and replacing the furnishings will cost an arm and a leg!"

Derleth snorts. "So speaks th' man who tosses exploding skeletons at us."

A chuckle. "Touche, touche. But, you did invade my home, after I did request you leave. On the other hand, you've likely killed that weasel of a cleric. Thank you, by the way; he's quite the snooty little bugger. At any rate, where are my manners? My apologies; I'm Nesthil Thenacian Grim."

Derleth smiles sardonically as he plots. "Oh, o' course. What a stylish name for an evil mage, don't ye think, lads?"

Silniya makes a show of cutting a swath in the wallpaper with her sword.

Kyrel peers into the room, trying to look past the glow. "Probably. He wasn't looking at all well when we left him. And you know full well how we invaded. What would an honest citizen be needing with a tunnel into the cemetery?"

Kyrel gets a bird's eye view of the room from Kiri, or rather a bat's-eye view; it is rather spacious, and beyond the glow, two staircases rise up to an overhanging balcony. Before the stairs is a wall constructed solely of bone, appendages waving from the structure. Behind it, also guarding the stairs, is the green glow's source; it shines through the cracks of the bones, and from above the boney guard, it appears like spirits are swimming in the greenish surface, moaning, though the sound only fills the room. At the balcony's edge leans a short man, wearing bright orange, yellow, and green robes, cut in the latest style. His hands rest on the banister, one twisted into a bony claw. Beside him stands a rather...impressive zombie, arcs of blue energy rippling across its form, its arms raised in a defensive manner...showing the appendages, below the elbow to be that of a bloody axe, and a morning star. "True, true, I'm not an honest citizen, but my friends, understand that this isn't because I'm evil, and my corrupt ways are making me take over the city for my own pleasure. It's all obligation, you see. Politics, whatnot. If it were up to me, I'd be in a quant little cemetery near the Moonsea beach."

Kyrel says, "Politics? Most political sorts aren't interested in randomly killing their own people - if nothing else, it's hard to collect taxes from a corpse. What's stopping you from retiring to that nice beachfront mausoleum?"

Derleth says, "Aye. Ah'm sure there's plenty o' space in Phlan's Valhingen graveyard, man...an' the local priests of Tyr would be more than welcoming, as well."

"No, no, my good man. You see, the Talonite church has ties to my old academy, and thus, I," he says with just a hint of pride in his voice, tapping that bony claw on his chest, "Was one of the best students, and going to take the please of a half demon, to teach the newer death wizards. But, of course, they sent me here, instead of letting me take that place, or find my own. True, the swamp about the Academy isn't a great locale, not many pretty things wandering the muggy place, but it would've suited." He gives a resigned shrug. "But, they fund my research here, so why dispute them? When this city's all corpses and disease ravaged victims, and the Talonites begin their building, I can safely leave to do my own exploits."

Kyrel chuckles. "A trusting sort, aren't you? I've never heard that the Talonites had a particularly desirable retirement plan...."

Derleth looks around behind the group, just to make sure they aren't being snuck up upon....

"True," He offers a dazzling smile, "But they're paying for everything I do here. Why fund my needs, put me in a seat of luxury, just to stab me in the back with a poisoned dagger? Besides," He offers, "It would rather upset the Academy." He taps his fingers on the rail. "Not to be rude, gentlemen, but are we going to battle? My spells have durations, you see, and I'd prefer we not dawdle; I'd like my protective magics to hold up, and all."

Azler smirks, before murmuring, "The blessing I gave down will wane, as well..." Though, he doesn't sound too eager to just jump into the room and begin.

Kyrel waves a hand at the bizarre structure inside the room. "That's a spiritwall, if I'm not mistaken. We'll have a bit of trouble getting through it, and you don't want to touch it."

Derleth scratches his chin. "Listen, Grim, if it's all the same to you, perhaps we might strike a deal? It's not so much you were care about as th' city...if ye wan t' go do some early real estate shoppin' and leave us t' deal with the Talonites, we might make it worth yer while..."

A soft laugh. "My dear boy, that's the *point*! You don't expect me to just give you a way to walk up here and poke me with one of your weapons, now do you? I may be a master of negative energy, but I'm not about to jump into death, you see." A pause. "Well, y'see, here's the problem. If I just walk out, not only will I anger the Academy, but the Church as well. And, I'd rather keep both sets of their minions off my back. Assassins, whether demonic, arcane, or normal, are not to be trifled with, you understand."

"So... You can either leave the city, which I would really suggest, considering what's going to happen when the Talonites are done, or you can walk in, and we can get down to the hacking and the death and all that, and then your corpses can join my legion. Sound good?"

Kyrel says, "Hmm. I'd just as soon not join your legions of undead, myself... you sure there isn't a third option?"

"Well I can't very well invite you in for tea, now can I?"

Derleth says, "Aye.....seems t' me that ye're not saying a leisurely retreat on yer part ain't possible, Grim...only that ye'd need a large enough figure to contemplate it.""

Kyrel says, "Probably not advisable for either of us..."

"I would prefer to be hiding deep down in another plane of existence, if I was going to back up now. Why, that Wind is around here somewhere, and I'd rather not profess my desire to back out; the little fellow would come by and break my neck, most likely."

Derleth says, "A little while back, ye were waxing on about his unimportance, Grim. Surely ye're not more afraid o' him than us."

A chuckle. "Oh, he's important; why, one of the right hand men of the high ups, you see. Checking up on all the phases, and all that. He stopped in for dinner. Not a bad chess player either. So, gents, I would like to get this started, if we are? Time's a wasting."

Derleth looks at the others and gives a shrug. "Ah'm nae convinced o' our chances, but ah'd nae want t' back off naew..."

Kyrel says, "I don't know... maybe we should just go let the cook out of the kitchen and set the whole place on fire on our way out."

Derleth brightens. "Fire does 'appen t' solve a great many problems, aye."

Silniya shakes her head. "And hazard that bastard teleporting away, and just doing his business elsewhere?"

Kyrel says, "The spiritwall is only about ten feet high.... Should be possible to get over it..."

Azler peers curiously at the mage. "You're a wizard, no? Can't you just teleport us up there? Or get one of us to fly over the thing?"

Kyrel nods. "I think we can fly, yes."

Silniya glances between them all. "Then...which of us is flying up there?"

He reaches into his bag and pulls out two vials, handing one to Silniya and one to Derleth. "All of you. I've got those and one spell..."

Derleth takes the vial, but doesn't look pleased about the whole affair...the last time the party did something he thought was a bad idea was only fifteen minutes ago...

Azler holds up a hand. "Kyrel, I thing you should wait on the ground and bombard him with spells, to keep the fellow busy." The ominous sound of incantations comes from inside the room.

Kyrel says, "That was my thought as well. I don't need to get up close to give him grief."

Derleth says, "Ah, damn. Fuck it an fuck 'im. "

"We go in, then?" Silniya asks, setting one of her swords down, holding up the vial.

Kyrel grins. "Not on a bet. Ready? We'd better get started, he's not waiting for us." He starts his own chant, setting a Flight spell on Azler.

Derleth says this more to himself than anyone else. He strides into the room, taking out his new wand, pointing it up at the balcony and speaking the command word.

As Derleth steps into the room, his mind is washed with a brief moment of fear, but it melts away against his willpower. The wand spits light, forming a floating, glowing flail in the air, its head shaped like a die. It floats, awaiting instruction.

Derleth blinks, startled, and then points at Grim. "Go hit that bastard." he instructs calmly.

Silniya quaffs her potion, and steps into the room... The moaning, pained sound that flows from the wall rolls over her form, and the magic plants its fear deep inside. With a whining bark, the warrior woman turns tail, and ducks out of the room. Azler drinks his potion, and already starts flying toward the balcony, only to have a small, ghostly hand wave toward him, causing the cleric to dodge back. Grim turns to the zombie at his side, and points. "Siege, if you would." The zombie grunts, and, running to the balcony's edge, jumps off. It lands safely on the ground, crouching, its weapon-hands at ready, before starting to stalk towards Derleth. Apparently the animated body of a half-orc, its steps are not hindered by the usual sluggish shuffle of a zombie.

Kyrel gets the fire spell off before the others get into the radius of effect. The fireball blossoms out from the far wall of the room, washing over the cheerful villain...

Derleth grumbles. "Useless wand." he snorts, looking at the approaching 'Siege'. "One crispy critter, coming up." he murmurs, pointing his palm at the zombie.

The flame explodes against the wall, smoldering the wood, paint peeling from the banisters. Grim screeches. "I said no evocation spells!" His hands move in quick motions, and the incantation he muttered before becomes clear; he gets two spells off in rapid succession. Four glows appear in the air, and a small flash signals the end of the summoning. In the place of each of the glows stands an undead, slathering at the mouth, ragged, ugly, and hungry. Their hands clutch towards the living as they advance toward the group. The second spell summons a translucent, dark form, a moving shadow, gliding through the air toward Azler.

The holy light spears towards the blade-bearing zombie, hitting it square in the chest, burning a hole right through the creature. It staggers, nearly falling over, and glares angrily at Derleth, the blades on its arms glittering with electricity.

Azler backpedals from the shadow, and glances down, as if to figure what to do. He's at odds, and holds up his hand, casting a healing spell. "In the name of Ilmater, I heal you!" he snarls, and dives at the shadow, reaching out to touch it.

Derleth's eyes widen slightly. "Tough little bugger..." he murmurs, setting to defend against the zombie's attack....

The priest's hand slashes at the shadow, positive healing energy flooding into the incorporeal form, causing the dark silhouette to ripple in pain.

Siege lifts his weapons, and simply charges the cleric, getting close enough to swing the axe and morning star. The former comes first, its right arm coming in a horizontal sweep toward the cleric's chest, while the morning star follows up with a vicious punch. The axe's swing scores across Derleth's chest, the dirty blade cutting into flesh, and the electrical charge it releases is just as painful, blasting his skin. He cries out, stumbling backwards as the electricity courses through his body. "....hate undead...." he growls, focusing on the threatening creature.

The flail at Derleth's side streaks up to Grim's position, the wizard stumbling back before the magical weapon comes down, smashing into his shoulder. "Ow! Damn you, stop that!"

Kyrel steps back from the newly arrived undead, Kiri taking rearguard to watch for any further problems. He mutters the harsh syllables of Phantasmal Killer, the first time he's used the spell in anger, and waits as the shadowy form attacks Lord Grim, hoping it will work....

The mist flows from Kyrel's fingers, and takes vague form before the necromancer. His eyes grow as wide in terror as his hands try to fend off the apparition, backing away, the flail swinging at him forgotten. "No! No! Back away, you disgusting Serpent! I'll not have this! Father, fa - Aaaaah!" The apparition touches Grim and the man instantly goes stiff, before blood spurts from his lips and he crashes onto his back. The undead, however, are unfazed, coming in for the attack. The shadow at Azler flits in for the kill, three of the ghouls close in on Derleth, while the last wanders in Kyrel's direction.

The shadow misses the Ilmaterian, who dodges the beast. The ghouls start to close in on Derleth, as Siege, unaware of its master's plight, continues to attack. Derleth stumbles back, still reeling from the blow...the opposing numbers have changed, and he is now Kyrel's only defender. He grabs his medallion and presents it boldly, internally praying for Lliara's favor. "By the Lady's sign, I command you to flee!"

The divine power rolls from Lliara's sign like a tidal wave of fear, and most of the undead turn and flee towards the wall of bone, which attacks them as they come into range. Through the gaping hole in Siege's back, the undead tissue can be seen to knit itself back together. Derleth breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank ye, Lady Bright..."

Azler grunts, and noting that the shadow wasn't turned in Derleth's attempt, brings his magical weapon to bear, swinging at the incorporeal thing to disrupt its dark magics. The blessed weapon sweeps through the insubstantial form, and its form simply dissolves into the air.

Silniya marches back into the room, snarling, her blades raised up at point. She gives an almost apologetic look to Kyrel, a half-ashamed dip of her blunt muzzle, before she goes past him, and eyes the undead cowering against the wall of bones. "Where's Grim?"

Derleth glances back at Sil, not accusing, but flashing a smile of hope. "Breathing blood, by all accounts." he grunts. Kyrel returns a feral grin to the werewolf. "He had a sudden change of heart." He considers what to do about the remaining undead... it looks as though the wall might tear the ghouls apart before they recover from Derleth's command, but the zombie is regenerating.

Derleth looks warily at 'Siege'. "D'ye think ye can spare a magic missile t' help me send that bastard creation back t' the grave?"

Kyrel says, "Used them on the crawlers. I've got lightning, but I'm not sure that'll work too well on it. And the only fire spell I have left will attract the attention of all of the critters... it spreads out too much."

Derleth says, "Then I'll lure it back wi' me holy light, out o range o the other ghoulies?"

Kyrel says, "That might work. And the rest of us can help tear it up. Watch it, though, it's quite dangerous for a zombie."

Derleth nods, pointing his palm, and incanting the prayer that will send Her light hurling forth....

The blaze spears from Derleth's fingertips, launching into Siege's back. The blessed light consumes a good portion of its upper back, and lower neck, nearly blowing the bladed arms off, and sending the head rolling. The electrical field over the zombie crackles, snapping violently before fading. The ghouls turn around, and begin their approach, Silniya stalking toward them, murder in her eyes. The woman simply charges the beasts, blades swinging. As she charges in, the werewoman reverses the grip on her shortsword. Coming up close on the first ghoul, she stabs, slamming the blade into its chest and then pulling it aside. The momentum brings her longsword whipping around, cleaving deeply into the chest of a second ghoul, sending them both back on their heels. Azler flies down to help the woman, bringing his morning star up and then down onto the skull of the first ghoul, already struggling with a blade in its chest, sending the undead down in pieces.

Kyrel switches back to his bow to help out, since the others are in the way of his spell effects. He concentrates on the untouched ghoul, but misses his first shot.

The ghouls falter for a moment, so assailed. Then the injured one brings its claws up, growling, and they attack the werewoman. None of them succeeds in hurting her, however, as the agile wolf-warrior dances around them.

Derleth joins the attack, bellowing as he swings his flail, but does little more than distract the creatures. Silniya draws her blades back, and takes advantage of their distraction to press her attack the once more. Her longsword sweeps across the shoulders of one, and simply slices its head off. The body slumps to the floor, oozing something that isn't quite blood. Her shortsword sticks in the other ghoul's chest, and she pulls it out only in time to fend off its attack. Azler chants a holy spell, and reaches for the last of the ghouls, but misses. Kyrel shoots again, this time sinking the arrow into the slavering undead creature.

Silniya's first slice misses, but the short sword pierces the ghoul's eye, and sending it to the ground, quivering on the end of her blade. Derleth lays siege to the remaining ghoul, attacking it viciously. Derleth's flail crunches into its face. Azler flies in, his healing spell ready, coming at the ghoul in turn. His fist comes up. "In the Name of Ilmater, I Heal you." His fist smashes against the ghoul's nose, sending the healing magic into its negative-energy form, disrupting its cohesion. It flinches away.

Kyrel seems distracted by something, as he's staring with narrowed eyes at the balcony. He shoots at the ghoul almost absent-mindedly... and yet, the arrow streaks in, and goes into the ghoul's open, salivating mouth. The head of the arrow bursts through the back of its head, the thing's sickly yellow eyes rolling up into its skull, before it falls backwards. Upstairs, in the shadows of the balcony, he sees two sharp eyes glaring down at the scene below. They belong to a humanoid in green silks. Unlike the cleric's, these are more form-fitting, almost like a uniform of shirt and trousers. Gold bands shine on his wrists. The being might be human, but his features are angular, almost alien, eyes dark and nearly blood red, and the slight stubs of onyx horns poke from his forehead. His eyes meet Kyrel's for a moment, before he turns away, melting silently into the shadows.

Derleth sighs and wipes the sweat from his brow. "Well naew. Praise the Lady for that battle."

Kyrel is still staring at the balcony. "There was someone - or something - up there. Looked human, sort of... but stub horns on its head and a very angular face with red eyes."

The bone wall, and its spirit layer, still stand before the stairs.

Derleth blinks, and them grimaces. "That's nae good..."

Azler looks down. "Wait, I can still fly up there..."

Kyrel says, "Be careful. It was something strange... possibly a half-demon, or some servitor of Talona." He describes the creature he saw in detail. "Any ideas?"

Azler, meanwhile, casts Light on his morning star, and flies up to the balcony, sweeping the weapon around. As Kyrel describes the creature, he comes to the railing. "Nothing up here. Grim looks...pretty damn grim."

Kyrel shoots the Ilmaterian a look, and mutters to Derleth, "I didn't know any of them had a sense of humor..."

Derleth can't help but laugh at that. "Okay, so the annoying evil mage is dead, tra-la-la. But we still have the Talonites to worry about."

Kyrel nods. "Phantasmal Killer will do that. Basically, it kills by fear if it works. I don't normally like to use it, but...."

Azler glances down at the body. "He's got a little blood around his lips... I think his heart might've burst." Glancing back down, "He certainly was a talker, and undoubtedly evil, but he wasn't annoying."

Derleth says, "Hey, don't knock it, Ky. I'm jus' thankin Lliara that he were human, an not undead. Else yer life-saver illusion wouldnae ha' worked."

Kyrel says, "While you're up there, what's with his hand?"

Derleth blows an errant lock of hair away from his face. "On th' other hand, ah found his cheery arrogance most annoying..."

Azler comes up a minute later. "Haven't the foggiest; it looks like an actual part of him. Just...talon-like."

Kyrel nods. "Probably was, then. Necromancy will do that sometimes... warps the body of the caster if you channel too much negative energy."

Derleth grunts. "Can't imagine what some mages see in death...too high a price t' pay.." He turns his attention back to the barriers. "Naew...the question is, when are those walls coming daewn..."

Kyrel says, "Power. That's what it usually is. Necromancy offers lots of power."

Azler glances down. "So, should we check the body and the rest of the place?"

Derleth says, "We cannae do that unless those magic walls come daewn..."

Kyrel says, "Very carefully, I think. There's someone still up there, and it might be that assassin."

[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]





Last modified: 2001-Apr-19 23:10:57

All material on this site is
Copyright © 2001-2024 Reality Fault
unless specifically indicated on each document.
All Rights Reserved.
Administrated by Reality Fault Webmaster