"Oh goodness!  Did I not say to not pursue this?  Did I?  Yes, I think so.  Out loud?  Yes.  I think.  Foul, foul magic, it is!  Good for naught but the naughty!  Great Scotty, I feel like a weasel in a hen-plucking contraption, I do!  Folly, 'tis, like throwing yourself in front of a runaway cart with your britches around your ankles!  The only good confrontation is a tryst!  Or so I am told."

Boldly taking charge Bilfro runs around in  a little circle in the room, away from the trapdoor, delivering a devastating monologue to the night table who is certain to suffer a fatal blow to its life force, had it any.

It is evident he has grasped the situation thoroughly.

Having tastefully rearranged all the furniture and accoutrements in his less-than-elegant entrance, Aarnr turns his furious attention to the dark figure that approaches Eilieen, teeth baring in a predatory grin as the creature voices its complaint.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." *

"Where have thou hid thy soul-box, thou ripe-reelin', hell-hated, earth-vexin' bum-bailey ?!!" he demands.  "In that froggin' staff ?"

"An' this is from Bowbe, thou small-codded toad-knockin' pud !"

With that, (and having thoughtfully cleared most of the obstacles out of the way beforehand) the priest swings his greatsword at is-it-Eralion's head ...


* equally gratuitous Aliens reference in response:

Distephano: I thought you were dead
Ripley: Yeah, I get that a lot.

Eilieen finds herself with neither sufficient magic remaining for a spell, nor a weapon.  Her best attempt has failed.  Back she scrambles.  "Someone throw down my spear!" she shouts, struggling for the volume to be heard over Aarnr's challenge.

A small pause.  "Point up!"

OOC - I guess Eilieen will back off as best she can while holding her action in the hope someone drops down her spear...

Erista grabs Eilieen's spear - it's only three times taller than she is, afterall - and slides it over the edge, letting it drop down, point-up, near the priestess.

" Hey! How about a little entertainment?" Ozzy shouts at the specter threatening the priestess. Waving his arms and doing an odd little jig, Ozzy begins to sing loud and clear, hoping the ghost will enjoy the song enough to be fascinated by the performance...

" I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go
Walkin' with a dead man over my shoulder

Waiting for an invitation to arrive
Goin' to a party where no one's still alive

CHORUS
I was struck by lighting
Walkin' down the street
I was hit by something last night in my sleep
It's a dead man's party
Who could ask for more
Everybody's comin', leave your body at the door
Leave your body and soul at the door...
(Don't run away it's only me)..."

---

15:55, Wed 24 July 2013: Oswald Osbourne rolled 25 using 1d20+6 ((19)). Perform to Fascinate.

"Eralion!" breathes Corian, the colour draining from his face.

"Eralion!" he declares again, almost a challenge now, as his voice finds strength from somewhere.  He props Fergus' scythe against his shoulder and begins to chant the words of a spell.

"Marwolaeth wrth y meirw byw!"

And a beam of pale light reaches down into the dimness of the lower chamber to touch the dark form...

"Eralion?  Bugger!  Wasn't yer tellin' us as 'e were bein' dead?"  Colwyn questions Corian, even as he raises his crossbow, "See.  I's 'stinctly 'memberin' as yer was sayin' as 'ow Eralion weren't bein' strong enough ter be livin' after death as one of them there lich fellers."

He squeezes the trigger, and sends the quarrel hurtling towards the shadowy figure, only to see it miss by a hairs-breath...

"Bugger!"

He starts to reload again...

(NPCd)

Aramil takes his time.  He isn't sure what that thing is down there, other than a man-sized figure, seemingly composed of darkness.  Finally, when he is sure of his aim, he releases the arrow, which flies straight and true, directly at the dark thing's head...

(NPCd)

Fergus holds his ground, and the rope, while he watches the conflict unfolding in the room below.  He does think it's a bit odd that nobody is trying to escape the eldritch horror which stalks them.  He's heard a lot of stories about ghosts and, in those tales, running away always seems to be the best idea.

Though, to be honest, he isn't surprised to see Aarnr attacking the thing...

Ozzy starts to sing, a strange song with odd words, and the shadowy form turns away from Eileen and seems to watch the bard, drifting slowly back to the floor...  It doesn't even seem to notice as Colwyn's crossbow bolt whirs past, close to where a living man's ear would be.  Or as the bluish light that it had cast fades away. 

Upstairs, Bilfro retreats back to the bedchamber, where he occupies himself with... doing things.  Doubtless important things, vital to the success of the quest...

In the dimly lit crypt, Aarnr sees his chance and seizes it by the throat (metaphorically speaking).  The priest of Bowbe, a litany of curses on his grinning lips, swings his greatsword at the self-proclaimed ghost of Eralion.  The blade bites deep into the thing's neck, and doesn't stop.  Aarnr, surprised by the lack of resistance, spins through a complete circle.

Eralion seems not to have noticed the blow, and still seems gazes at Ozzy, apparently with rapt attention...

Erista carefully lowers Eilieen's spear down into the lower room.  It's a stretch, but she tinks she can put the weapon safely into the priestesses hands. 

A beam of pale light reaches from Corian's outstretched hand and pierces the dark creature's chest, eliciting a hiss of outrage, and drawing its gaze upwards towards the mage.  Just in time for Aramil to put an arrow through its face, to no more effect than Aarnr's sword.

From his vantage point, Fergus watches as weapons pass straight through the figure without harming it, while a simple beam of light seems to burn its ghostly form, and cause it pain.

Eilieen, shaken by the ease with which the creature had shrugged off the light of Zadastha's power, and the way it had even mocked it, retrieves her spear from Erista and turns to face her foe, just in time to see it lunge towards Ozzy...  An insubstantial arm reaches out towards the halfling bard, and he staggers backwards, swaying as if he is suddenly extremely tired... 

OOC: Things aren't going well...

Combatant         Init
Oswald Osbourne    24
Colwyn Akbar       20
Bilfro Gabbins     17
Aarnr Foultongue   16
Erista             15
Corian Barade      14
Aramil              6
Eralion             5
Fergus Andarson     4
Eilieen             3

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Hurt
Aramil:           Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Corian Barade:    Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Hurt
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:25, Sun 28 July 2013.

Aramil watchs with increasing horror as the weapons of the party pass through the misty body as if they didn't exist. The fact that Eileen's call to Zadastha seems not to hurt the thing was the worst but it was good to see the bolt of light seem to harm it. But not enough! he thinks and the half-elf feels he has nothing to contribute. Standing and staring for what seems an eternity Aramil hears a call in his head, a call to keep going. "Tell another story Aramil! Cheer the people up. They need to have something to focus on." Voices from his past, asking, pleading for his reassurance when times got hard and tough. Lastly he hears his mother's voice. "One more story, that is what they need to hear my clever little boy"

Grabbing the first thing that enters his head the half-elf starts to tell about the great battle of Bard's Gate, with the scared heros standing facing the enemy with strong hearts and a firm will.

OOC: inspire courage +1

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Bilfro conveys his thoughts and peeks out from the door towards the trapdoor.

"I have a bad feeling about this!" he says, having the need to express his feelings and does that, more or less.

"It could be worse!" says he, feeling courage snaking its way in.  A most unusual feeling.  It does not last.

"Venture surceased, fellow, venture surceased!"

He ducks back into the bed chamber.  Perchance there is something there that can save the day.

Fergus is well aware that he's not the brightest spark, not the sharpest tool in the shed, all those sorts of things.  Fergus being who he is, he would probably admit it before anyone else had the opportunity to bring it up.  But there is such a thing as common sense.  Fighting ghosts with weapons wasn't sensible.  Neither was fighting a ghost on ground it claimed made it stronger.

"It says it's strong down there.  Get out!" Fergus yells down the hole, before quickly adding.  "Aarnr, grab its staff.  It might have some magic that can hurt it."

Fergus waits to see if anyone will follow his advice.

OOC: Using the usual RPG protocol to squeeze in more than 6 seconds of speech :P.  Fergus will hold his action until after Eilieen has acted.  If any of those below grab hold of the rope he will haul them up.  He will Rage to increase his strength if either Eilieen or Aarnr (or both) grab on.

Weakened by the touch of the ghost, Ozzy's voice loses some of the timbre, becoming listless and uninspired. He cannot help but continue singing as appropriate as it is at the moment, stumbling backwards and away from the clutching grasp of the long dead wizard...

" All dressed up with nowhere to go.
Walkin' with a dead man
Waitin' for an invitation to arrive
With a dead man . . . Dead Man . . .

Got my best suit and my tie
Shiny silver dollar on either eye
I hear the chauffeur comin' to the door
Says there's room for maybe just one more..."

Clutching at the javelin, he struggles to hold it up defensively to fend off any further attack on his heart and soul.

Eilieen pauses as Fergus' words sink in.  Of course!  Battling this thing in its crypt wasn't the brightest choice she has ever made.  They need to get out of here, consider a different plan.  And then Oswald suffers the creature's attentions...

"Oswald!  No!"

Spear forgotten, Eilieen lets it fall as she lunges for the bard.  Wrapping an arm around his waist (she has to bent quite far, admittedly), she drags him back and grabs for the rope with her free hand.  "Aarnr!  We must flee this crypt!  PLEASE!"  She can only pray the priest listens to her for once.

There's no need to die; they all might yet win free.

Satisfied that he has found a weapon which will serve against the insubstantial horror, Corian repeats the spell, "Marwolaeth wrth y meirw byw!"  Once more the ray of light springs forth and burns Eralions ectoplasmic form.

Corian's only real concern is that he will drain all of his magic before the decades-dead wizard finally falls.  "Magic harms it!" he announces in a loud voice, in the hopes that Erista, and even Bilfro will join the assault.

Aarnr is still confused that his mighty blow merely passed through Eralion as if the thing that he has become were not there.  And while his native tongue does indeed allow for such phrases as "running away" * being undead is definitely cheating, and if both Fergus and Eilieen are in accord, then the priest will, however reluctantly, acquiese.

Sheathing his sword, Aarnr stoops to pick up the discarded staff, gripping it belligerently in both hands, tip pointed towards the foulsome creature.  "Thou get the folly-fallen minstrel away," he tells the priestess, "I'll be right behind thee ..."

* most generally followed hard by "get after them !"

Erista pulls her head up to look at Corian when he makes his announcement.  "Was looking for something as might be this.. soul box," she says.  "We sure it's not a lich?  Hey!"  She blinks suddenly, turning her head slightly to focus on Aramil.  "Your sword!  It's got magic on it.  Aramil, you should get down there!" she exhorts.  Then, her knowledge of the elf asserting itself, she amends, "Or let Aarnr borrow your sword."

Pointing her finger down, she adds, almost absently, "破壞 幽靈."  A beam of light shoots from her own finger, passing over Aarnr's hair and giving him almost a halo for a moment, before striking the skeletal figure square in what's left of the face.

"Bilfro!  Shift yer bleedin' arse!  We's needin' another wizard in 'ere!" Colwyn yells over his shoulder, towards the doorway.  The rogue elects not to waste another crossbow bolt.  He has, after all, witnessed Aarnr's sword cutting through the dark shadowy creature with no more effect than slicing air.

He drops the useless crossbow and draws his silver bladed dagger.  At least that might work.  He's been told that silver works at least half the time against nine out of ten ghosts.

But then the man who told him that also tried to tell him that a duck is a type of feathered fish...
This message was last edited by the player at 08:02, Fri 02 Aug 2013.

Strangely tired, Ozzy backs away from the shadowy haunt, circling around the plinth with the coffin atop it  And still he keeps singing, though his voice does falter a little as the dark form passes straight through the stone block, coffin and all, as if it weren't there...

Colwyn realises the futility of hurling more projectiles at a creature which seems likely to ignore them anyway.  Instead he calls on Bilfro to bring his own thaumaturgic might to the fray.  The subject of that desperate summons is still busy searching the bedchamber, with occasional pauses to express his opinions on the progress of the battle.  Or possibly on any number of unrelated topics.  It's hard to be entirely sure. 

Ozzy shrieks involuntarily, as he is suddenly grabbed from behind, and Eilieen starts to drag him towards the rope.  The ghostly figure follows still...

Fergus realises what is happening, puts two and two together and has an idea.  A shouted instruction, and Aarnr grabs the staff from where it lays on the floor and challenges the shade.  Which has the immediate effect of distracting Eralion-that-was away from Ozzy.  "That is mine, cur!"  He veers towards the priest, tiny pinpricks of red light burning where his eyes should be.  "Mən sehrli raket da qaranlıq tökm... aaieee!"

Whatever spell the creature is casting ends in a hiss of pain, as Corian and Erista strike at it near simultaneously with magical forces, and twin beams of light lance down from above the hatch, burning into the umbral horror.  Ragged wisps of shadow boil away from the incorporeal surface of the thing, and it lurches sideways, as if staggering...

Aramil starts to sing, and the gloom of the pit lifts its grip on the hearts and minds of his companions.  In that moment of fresh found clarity Erista reminds the bard of the enchanted blade from the farmouse, which still hangs at his hip.

A tendril of shadow reaches towards Aarnr and brushes against his arm.    The priest stumbles, shaking his head as if attempting to clear it of sleep... 

Eilieen and Ozzy take advantage of Eralion's distracted state, and reach the rope.  They grab hold of it, and Fergus starts to haul them up.  The big farmer clearly doesn't know his own strength.  Ozzy, in his weakened state, almost loses his grip on the lifeline, and only Eilieen's hold on him prevents the halfling tumbling back to the ground... 

OOC: Oooh!  Excitement, combat, daring rescues, and Indiana Jones-esque escapes!  Oh, and Bilfro!(!!)

Figure that Ozzy and Eilieen will get to safety (ie: solid ground) at the end of the next round.

Combatant         Init
Oswald Osbourne    24
Colwyn Akbar       20
Bilfro Gabbins     17
Aarnr Foultongue   16
Erista             15
Corian Barade      14
Aramil              6
Eralion             5
Fergus Andarson     4
Eilieen             3

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Hurt
Aramil:           Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Corian Barade:    Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Hurt
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:52, Fri 02 Aug 2013.

While still reciting his prose the half-elf hears the little halfling's comment and looks down at the sword on his hip. Not sure who would be best using the item he stops a moment and then notices the priest still down with the mist. Drawing it form his hilt he adds a line to the story hoping the priest will hear it as he drops the sword down towards Aarnr, trying to miss the swinging figures of Ozzy and Eileen coming back up. "So the strong and mighty warrior of Bouwe reaches for the magic sword that has appeared at his side. His god has predicted the tirade of abuse that would soon reach his ears about the cruel cheating for such foul creatures to be immune to the blades of the worthy, so has provided a worthy sword to fight the evil being into submission or death, a long and final death." If Aarnr doesn't pick up the sword then the half-elf will yell "Aarnr you froggin' coward pick up the sword and hit the foul enemy of Bouwe!"

Aarnr staggers back as Eralion's touch saps his strength ... but then rears up, face contorted with an anger that lies beyond reason, lashing out at the foul creature's head with the heavy staff ...

... which at some point in the manoevre becomes detached from the priest's grip and goes flying to the far quarters of the chamber.

Colwyn briefly considers throwing the silver blade at the dark creature, but dismisses that idea - if he misses, he will have wasted the only weapon he has that might harm the thing, plus he has an aversion to throwing away perfectly good silver.  Instead he decides to wait for the thing to come to him.

This plan has the advantage that he will only be fighting if he has no other choice, always the best option as far as the rogue is concerned.

Meanwhile, there are other things he can do to assist in the battle...

"Bilfro!  'urry up mate!"

Unfortunately there are no secrets to be found in the chamber, not even a hatch with no discernible way to actually open it.  Once, nay, twice, doth the call ring forth, beckoning Bilfro the Unconfrontational to confrontation.

"Nazzle drazzle naughty necromancer," mutters he neath his breath, which he hopes to keep, as he muddles towards the shindig that no doubt will do naught by harm to him and others.

"Whaaaaaa?" he cantankerously clamour upon arrival near the Trapdoor That Should Not Have Been Opened But Oh No Of Course We Have To Open The Foreboding Bloody Thing And Awaken Whatever Horror No Doubt Resides Therein, or TTTSNHBOBONOCWHTOTFBTAAWHNDRT for short.

"Marwolaeth wrth y meirw byw!"

And again the shaft of light springs forth from Corian's finger.  This time though, the dark shadow shifts aside, and the beam strikes the floor of the crypt, where it doesn't even disturb the dust...

Corian gives a strangled cry, then, "He threw the staff!  He threw it!"