Finn is a master of not getting hit but even he wasn't so foolish to think that luck would last forever.  There is a time honored saying, the best defense is a good offense.  Loosely translated it means hit your opponent hard and fast and you wont need worry about ducking.  Razzel is no strong man, he doesn't pack a wallop like Magnus.  So then how do you defeat a monster that is nearly immune to sharps blades?

In reply to Finn Razzel (msg # 366):

Rondald recognized the problem the young man presented as well. Being in a position to help, he stepped up to block the young mans attack, relying on dodging to avoid anything the undead could throw at him. The moves seemed smooth and fluid...

It does not take Magnus long to recognize that he is sorely outmatched with his new foe.  As he throws his whole weight behind his mace, it takes only the gentle suggestion of the spear to guide the blow away just enough to miss his target before the spear flashes back upwards in a vicious stab.  Though Magnus retreats backwards with a swat of his shield, the rim only catches the shaft just behind the spear tip, deflecting the blow but not enough and the head buries itself in the minotaur's mail shirt, causing a wince of pain as Magnus twists himself away from the wound.  Again, he swings his heavy mace, seeking to crush any bit of his human counterpart, though the blow misses wide...  The spear jabs upwards with cruel intent and Magnus is again driven back, his shield too slow in his own defense as the spear connects again with his mail shirt, burying head deep in the links of his mail shirt as the steel is split open in two places, though Magnus is lucky that his thick skin has averted most of the damage...

Luckily, Magnus is not the only one with his attention focused on the spearman.  Gustav unsheathes a knife and throws it with one fluid motion and with deadly accuracy.  Though somehow the man sees the thing coming from just to the side of Magnus and twists his body away, as the weapon continues on and glances against the pile of clay and armor sitting at the head of the stairs.  Judoc too, seems to have focused his attention on the attacker, hurling his ball of flame between the small gap ahead, aimed directly at the spearman's left flank.  Somehow, impossibly, the man sees the thing coming and presses his body forward, the miniature inferno careening onward and into the floor where it explodes into a ball of gaseous flames.

"Agh!"  Giles screams, slashing his sword with insane energy at his skeletal foe ahead.  Clang the weapon glances aside, blocked by the opposing blade and the undead foe presses forward with an attack that is barely noticed by Giles and which ricochets off his mail armor.  Again, Giles presses the attack and this time he scores a hit which cleaves the thing from just inside the right shoulder blade and straight through the spine and left rib cage, severing the thing in two as it splays out, unmoving on the ground.

Finn battles backwards and forward with his foe, turning his hand so that his knuckles bare the brunt of the attack rather than his blade, he scores a hit on the things chest which rebounds slightly, though the hit is slight enough that Finn doubts its impact.  The monster swats back with its sword and Finn doubles back, neatly dodging the blade.  Again he presses his attack, though this time the blade swats his arm to the side in defense, slashing a tiny ribbon in his armor that luckily does not cut to the skin.  Despite the thing's injuries, its sword swings out again and again Finn finds himself retreating backwards to evade, the hard side of the upturned table catching the back of his right heel as he retreats.

Magnus, it's important to note that the table in the map has actually been pushed to the left and obstructs you from further retreating.  You haven't actually taken any damage, though that is certainly due to your heavy armor and your naturally high racial DR.

Rondald battles backwards and forwards with his foe, catching each swing of the blade with his shield as he presses the skeleton to stalemate.

But behind the Golem wall the elder of the two men now holds a fireball in his right hand much like the one Giles just threw across the room.  In his left, a staff stands erect which towers just over his own height.  the fireball is over the size of a fist, its flames dancing merrily as the man's eyes glare with Malice.  "You dare disturb my research!  I, who have found the fortress Perdition, I who will unleash it's Hells upon the infidels of Megalos!"

OOC:  I stopped things here to give you guys the option of more specific defenses if warranted.  This encompassed two rounds, where the most evident change is the destruction of Giles's skeleton.  There have been 4 attacks on the spearman, and somehow he has defended against all of them, including Judoc's fireball which came from a "side" hex.  Finn and Rondald are mostly even with their opponents, neither doing nor receiving any damage.

Magnus, You haven't actually taken any damage yet, though that is certainly due to your thick armor and your naturally high racial DR.  It's important to note that the left table has actually been pushed slightly over to the right and it obstructs your ability to retreat farther.

Please post 3 rounds of action.

EDIT:  Note that the dialogue in bold quotes has changed.  Also, Gustav, I forgot to mention that you did look around for a spare bolt or two and notice after a moment Rondald's hip quiver hanging by his thigh.  There are no other bolts for you to pick up close at hand.


This message was last edited by the GM at 16:09, Wed 03 Oct 2018.

In reply to Raddek (msg # 368):

Frustrated at his inability to block the spearman and protect his friend, Rondald lashes out at the skeleton with his shield in anger...

Growing up in the streets of Azer Finn has had to take care of himself.  Well, that isn't exactly true.  His parents didn't die and leave him orphaned or kick him out before the age of eight, he chose to leave.  By the time he was twelve and on the cusp of young manhood Razzel had watched his parents eek out an existence just good enough to keep famine and destitution at the door.  Yes, they had a home, if you could call a two room flat for five people a home.  They didn't die for lack of food and they had enough to pay their taxes and stave off eviction.  But their living conditions were barely better than the homeless Finn lived with in his teens.  It was this realization in his youth that Razzel needed to abandon the family business or he would become his parents in twenty odd years.

Living on the streets was a shocking but welcomed education.  He learned more in a few short years about how people are motivated, survival, sneaking, locks, magic, the habits of city guards and so much more.  But now he understands, rather harshly, that city life has warped his senses.  In the mean streets a knife is all one needs.  Most of the time one's mouth is a better tool than any blade or cudgel, any hammer, saw or small flexible picks.  However here, out in the wilds, far away from the rabble of commerce and guards a sword, ax or heavy hammer is needed to deal with the monsters of the hidden recesses of the worlds problems.  Finn makes a mental note to learn these weapons and make them familiar.  Sadly, his knife will have to do for now.


OOC:
Turn so that I can retreat to the west (away from Magnus).

This message was last edited by the player at 02:11, Thu 04 Oct 2018.

Gustav Grunts at the location of the bolts, but now they aren't critical, Magnus is in trouble, this is not a normal Human ... he grabs his spear up, then takes a single silver penny from his Tunic pocket and throws it at the big spearman's face. He brings the spear up on guard to help Magnus.

It only took Magnus a few seconds to realize that he was standing face to face with some kind of professional soldier, or perhaps a full time warrior of some sort. Despite his size and intimidating visage, the Minotaur was no true soldier. Sure he had been in a few scraps, and he had picked up the basics of swinging a weapon from his father, but his first real fight had been just a few weeks ago during that bandit attack.

A jolt of fear and pain ran through him as the spear point thrust home, and caused the beast man to grunt loudly in pain, but the second one nearly bowled him over, and he heard as much as felt the steel rings pop asunder under the assault. Was he bleeding? How bad was it? He simply did could not risk a glance down to check.

"God...damn..." he cursed in frustration, then suddenly felt the table as he bumped into it as he shuffled back. He literally had his back to the wall now, faced with a man who was more than likely just about to kill him where he stood.

The co-mingling of panic, pain, frustration and no small amount of anger welled up...and the result was a sort of reversion to his most basic instincts.

He pressed off the table with his back and elbow and hurled himself bodily at the hulking young man...head low, horns bared like a furry battering ram...his black eyes remained open as he tried to sink the off white yellowish horns into the young man before him, bellowing loudly and thrashing as he came.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:45, Wed 03 Oct 2018.

This is one moment
But know that another
Shall pierce you with
a sudden painful joy
-T.S. Eliot

In the depths of the capital Megalos, great wizards explore the wonders of time.  That gentle thing which soothes babies to sleep and cares for even some of the deepest wounds - that thing which heals all hurts in one hand as it slowly kills all things in the other.  For Time has killed even the strongest of kings, murdered the grandest of wizards in their sleep.  It asks no favors and gives no quarter, ebbing and flowing along with its own will at whatever pace attunes with its current whim.  Indeed, the great scholars would argue that Time is not a constant, but sprints in bursts and slows down to nothing in such instances that please it.

Now is such a time.

Magnus, that slayer of skeleton and golem, hero among men despite his heritage and hideous appearance, knows that he cannot continue his retreating and he lowers his head, his shield stretched defensively in front of him as he charges forward, hooves clattering against the stone floor.  It is an attack with little thought for his own defense and for that he pays dearly.  Even before he has moved forward a foot, the spear tip lashes upward again, and though his shield flinches inward to protect himself, the thought is too little, too late.

It plunges into his armor, sinking into his skin and between his low ribs on the left side, sucking out his breath from his lungs as if by magic.  Though Magnus is no stranger to injury, the pain is exquisite, blinding his eyes with red for a moment as his knees buckle below him mid-stride.

But even if he wanted to, there was no stopping the several hundred pound mass behind his charge.  Magnus's horns sag slightly as his legs give way, making the attack just unpredictable enough to be indefensible.  The spearman swings back and to the side, attempting to side step the blow, but Magnus's left horn catches him on the side, tearing open a ghastly wound that rends open his flesh from stomach to side.  Buckling down to his knees, Magnus grips his mace as it slips through his fingers until the weight hangs from his strap, the head resting on the ground as the grip hangs loosely a few inches away...

"Nooo!"  Giles screams, pushing the massive weight of his armor and equipment forward he sprints towards Magnus, though his path is not clear.  Before he has moved forward even a step, the elder man has thrown his fireball, the orb on a straight path to a killing blow...  Giles shield flashes up just in time, taking the projectile off the rim, the ball bursting into a flame that lingers for a moment on the wood, charring the face from a light brown to a darkened black...  Giles swings his sword at the nearest offending skeleton, the one still fighting Rondald, thought the blow goes wayward, missing its mark by the narrowest of margins....

Rondald battles back too, smashing his shield forward towards his foe with a blow that smacks across bone with a thud, perhaps unsettling the undead for a moment, though the thing does not hesitate in slashing back with its sword a blow which clashes against the steel of Rondald's coat, rebounding without doing any damage.

Finn dodges warily, the monster's sword going over his head as he weaves just under the blow, his own knife slashing out in response.  The blow catches the skeleton just at the top of the hip, slicing a neat gash across the white surface.  Apparently, the blow is enough to snuff the life out of the thing, and the bones clatter downwards towards the earth unbound, the sword clanging meanly off the stone below.

OOC:  Just one round that time, with significant results.  I haven't posted a map, mostly because it would take me a half an hour or more for very few changes.  I'm limited on time so I'll try and describe the differences instead.  Finn, you've killed your skeleton by finally managing a damage roll of something over 1.  Rondald managed a stinging blow against his own foe, though it doesn't seem like there is that much effect based on his shield bash.  Magnus, you have taken a major wound to the vitals and similarly done a major wound to the torso of the spear man.  Your mace hangs limp and unready, though he seems to have maintained a grip on his spear with at least one hand.  Giles has charged forward to help, though has been stopped by Rondald's skele.

The only foes left are Rondald's Skeleton, the spearman (facing Magnus), and the old man.
 Please post 2 rounds of action.

s

In reply to Raddek (msg # 373):

This is not working well. Magnus the mighty has taken a terrible wound, and is going down. Rondald needs to ditch his shield and change tactics, but this troublesome dead thing is causing considerable problems. He lashes out at it once again with all his strength...

Head swirling, Judoc the Fiery takes in the carnage. Bodies of skeletons litter the floor. How many have they defeated? Nearly a dozen? Only one remains, but not for long. Magnus, goring and gored in return, battles for his life against the spearman. Judoc is confident that the minotaur will prevail, though Magnus' wounds would have felled a lesser being.

No, the one final threat is the necromancer, if this be him, protected by the wall of fallen golems. The wizard would have never let them leave if he had been confident in defeating them in battle, and surely the old man is fatigued by now from his constant spellcasting.  Judoc knows that by slaying or overcoming the wizard, the battle will be won, and so the young mage acts.

"You've already lost, old man," he snarls, and summoning the mana around him, Judoc prepares to cast a spell.

OOC: Begin to cast.

It's a hard thing, and a sad thing to witness the moment when the belief of invulnerability, and the knowledge that he is some how "special" is stripped from a young man. As much as they will protest, most of those that take up arms at a young age really do not understand or appreciate just how easily they can be killed. All the love and hard work of their parents, everything they have done, everything they have worked for snuffed out in an instant...

...taken, robbed.

Perhaps the young spear man was just that mich more experienced in the ways of war, perhaps he has seen more and lost more. Perhaps he really was naturally gifted or maybe he was just lucky. But for Magnus, young Magnus who had first drawn a weapon in anger but a few weeks prior...the moment had come with the flicker of a spearpoint in the half light and he suddenly believed that he was going to die.

It seemed to him to happen simultaneously. His left horn caught and jerked his head to the side, he could feel the young man for a moment, the sensation of his urgent extrication transmitted up the horn and into his broad skull a half second before he felt the point of the spear explode through his mail, deeper than he could have imagined into his rib cage. For a moment it almost seemed to support his weight.

It just kept. on. going. The pain was beyond description.

Maybe the point lodged in some bone, a rib, the back of a shoulder blade, god forbid his spine...maybe it had just been stopped by the sheer volume of meat it had to drive through...but when the young man removed it blood gushed forth from the wound in a torrent to rain upon the stones beneath.

Magnus slumped, stumbled, and seemed to sway there as if he might collapse entirely.

But he did not.

He started to shiver, violently. He raised up high his broad shaggy head with a rapid series of jerky movements to reveal eyes that did not belong to the creature they had known.

The roar that came up from his belly was a terrible thing, it started almost at a higher pitch and then dipped into a hoarse, guttural howl that echoed painfully loud in the enclosed space. Blood bubbled and foamed up from his nostrils and dripped thick from his open bottom lip...the hole in his side sprayed a grizzly red splatter through ruined chain and blood soaked chucks of the padded arming garment beneath.

He hurled himself forward implacably, his free hand grasping, his head thrashing and his fur bristling as he barreled down on the young man heedless of spear or spell.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:22, Thu 04 Oct 2018.

Gustav glances at the coin, sees that it is copper and drops it grabbing up his spear with both hands. He watches carefully for an opening, as he move his right hand to the butt and slides his left back accordingly, so he can reach out as far as he can. Prepared to thrust as soon as there is an opening.

The necromancers shouted warnings rang out in his mind over and over despite the seriousness of their situation.  This mission, their very lives, hung in the balance.  There was no doubt left that the white haired old man was the villain they sought.  Perdition was his aim and the thought of his success would terrify Razzel if he could entertain the silly notion.  But he and his companions were just too good to be thwarted by some lunatic who spent his time putting on puppet shows for skeletons.


OOC:
My laptop took a dump while I am on vaca.  It might be fixable but if so it wont happen for a week or more til I can get back home and have someone look at it.  In the meantime I'll do my best to post from my phone but its tricky.

Boss, please NPC me as necessary based on my overall objective which is to engage the enemies while taking on minimal risk.  My first goal is to get behind the big spearman and flank him so that he has to turn his back to either me or Magnus.  Round 1 will be a Move and Wild Swing if I can get there.  Then if I can get behind him where it seems he is focused on attacking Magnus then AoA for +4 to hit, Called Shot Vitals and burn 1 fatigue for +2 Damage.  But if it seems he is going to attack me then see in PM.  Also, if the older man seems hell bent on me, either physically or say wants to launch a fireball at me, then don't turn my back on him.  Ie, I don't want to be blidesided.

This message was last edited by the player at 03:49, Fri 05 Oct 2018.

When the tide shifts, it is not all at once, but a gradual process.  The high waters surge and stay, flowing and ebbing only ever so slightly at the beginning and any sailor worth his salt can tell you that a late departure by minutes or even an hour means little in the way of clearance.  But woe betides the man who thinks they may set their departure at any time of day, for when the waters recede they do so in earnest, losing feet of clearance in as little as an hour, causing ships to strand themselves on rocks and coral that would have been not so much as a hazard had the time been some two or three hours previous.  Battle is much the same, for the tide of victory can be turned long before those combatants envision their win, their hearts only knowing the intense and brutal nature of combat.

Blood boils in Magnus's veins.  It is a feeling he has never known before in earnest though he has little awareness to consider his state.  His eyes throb with each beat of his heart and the pain sears his body all around.  Barely in control of his actions he slashes his horns towards his foe who steps wildly backwards, his spear lashing out in a blow which catches Magnus in his leading hoof.  Though he can hear the clink of splitting bone, It is impossible to tell whether the thing cuts deep, or hurts at all really, for everything hurts, and the pain is exquisite.  Again the spear lashes out, this time its tip slashing at Magnus's face as he charges.  There is blood and pain, but it seems to amount to little real meaning.  Magnus charges again, his horns thrust out into the man's chest digging for his heart, lungs, liver or anything that would spell his immediate death, he dodges back again wildly, stumbling just slightly, and the horn catches the man just under the collarbone, tearing a horrific gouge in the man's chest.  Finn is there too, just behind the man, a knife borne in front of him and ready, its blade buried fist deep in the man's back as he stumbles backwards, blood gushing from the wound in torrents that slick the blade and the floor below.

The last of the skeletons, the one facing off with Ronald, lashes out with his sword, missing wide of his mark as Rondald brings his shield forth in a strike that hits home, though brings little force behind it.  ""Ragh!"  Giles screams again, his sword flashing high overhead behind the thing, his blade careening down with force, careening through the things skull, and severing the bone from crown to its upper teeth, the blade tip peering out from the forehead between the undead's empty eyes.  The last of the undead clatters to the ground, dead and useless for the last time.

And Judoc! who had been standing behind the battle, casting his spells with little effect now lifts himself from the ground, hovering above the stonework floor as he heads straight for the last untouched of their foes, the old man still standing behind the barricade.  His lips and handwork still continue as he hovers, his magic flooding from his body in torrents.  The elder man watches as Judoc approaches, conjuring another of his fireballs that he lofts straight at the student's midsection.  Judoc acts instinctively, his hand twitching off to the side as his mana diverts the orb which explodes into nothingness in the space between Magnus and Rondald's heads.  Now floating just above the barricade, Judoc stares down upon his foe, his fingers already working in his next manipulation of mana...

OOC:  Wow!  Great rolling on that one guys.  Unfortunately, Gustav is the odd man out, having a crippled leg and everyone being too far away to hit from his sitting posture.  You've dropped the coin and have grabbed your spear with two hands and in a two hex grip, though even that seems a little far away to get into the fight.

Finn has snuck in behind the spearman and stabbed the man in the back as he retreated, causing a major wound.  Likewise, Magnus has torn open another gash at the man's collarbone, and with the amount of blood from his cumulative wounds, it seems like he has little time left before he succumbs to his injuries.

Magnus has taken a light wound to the hoof, and despite it being light it is going to be massively painful for a month or more just due to the nature of how hooves work.  That being said, you can't even notice it now, at least until you come out of your rage.

Giles has also killed the last of the skeletons.

Please post another 2 rounds of action.


This message was last edited by the GM at 05:32, Fri 05 Oct 2018.

As Judoc sails through the air toward the aged wizard, he conjures up more mana from his environment, preparing to cast yet another spell. That he is still weakened does not bother the young mage. He knows that in a few moments, the necromancer will be vanquished, and the job will be complete. His companions have defeated the man's minions, and now Judoc will strike the serpent's head.

He doesn't even blink as he dispels the other mage's fire. Sure, what the fell wizard has managed to do here with his impressive guardians and his wonderful toys is quite impressive, but the old boy's plans have all crashed and burned once he crossed paths with Judoc the Fire-blooded. Gesturing with his hands, Judoc once more channels flame.

"Surrender, and you may yet live," he says in warning.

OOC: Begin to cast again.

In reply to Judoc the Merciful (msg # 380):

Rondald sizes up the situation, noting the injuries the spearman has taken, and the number of foes remaining, and decides it is time to go on the offensive. He removes his shield as he steps towards the spearmans back and draws his knife, stabbing at the mans heart in one smooth action!

It would have been enough to turn the stomachs of a less seasoned collection of men. The hoof split down to the sole, the keratin yawning open in the middle to ooze dark red blood with every step Magnus took. It looked gruesome and painful even for those that did not possess such extremities. Designed to share the weight of incredibly heavy animals, the wound was strained and tormented with every shift of the armored beast mans significant bulk.

Likewise the ragged avulsion of his face had cleaved him to the bone, and left him with an open flap of flesh that extended nearly from nose to ear that bled freely into the fur of his neck and down into his armor and the floor below. At this point it all mingled in a gory glistening slick...the flow from his spear wound, his face and hoof all left a trail of droplets and spatter in his passage. Likewise his horns and the top of his skull were stained with the lifes blood of his foe from where he had thrashed the man about in the way that a big dog might joyously shake a rabbit to still its last protests.

It was safe to say that Magnus did not know exactly what was going on, but focused single minded upon the retreating and grievously wounded spear man. He grunted and muttered something inaudible as the hole in his lungs continued to spurt and bubble as he advanced with fist and horn and hoof. If he appreciated the way that Finn's knife sank home, or even noticed in his rage, he did not show it.

But as the spearman seemed to near his end, so did Magnus begin to slow...their two lives inextricably tied together at this point. An intimacy closer than any lover, and of the two at least one of them would likely breath their last in the next few moments.

What then? who was to say...
This message was last edited by the player at 14:33, Fri 05 Oct 2018.

Finn grins ear to ear but holds in any other revelry.  In other situations he might whoop it up or toss barbed insults, but here the lack of taunting isn't out of compassion or fear, instead he is just too focused upon bringing about a quick end to this skirmish without any serious afflictions.  No one is missing an arm or leg.  Sure they are exhausted and bleeding badly from dozens of wounds but none of his new friends have suffered horribly and he would like to keep it that way.


OOC:
Continue the same plan.

This message was last edited by the player at 02:55, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

Gustav is helpless to affect the battle ... he eyes the old man ... could he hit him with the spear?  Or would it just be directed away from him like the crossbow bolt...  Gustav stands undecided.

Weapons whir in blinding attacks, a two on one with Magnus throwing his horns in vicious swipes meant to skewer the spearman.  Somehow, even with his left hand wrapped against his lower abdomen holding in a soup of intestines, even as his lifeblood leeches through his fingertips, the man stumbles out of the way once, twice.  He throws his own spear in retribution and though he hits, the blows are feeble, barely flaking the steel rings of Magnus's mail as the shaft rebounds back.

Attempting a quick end to the fight, Finn strikes out a vicious stab as well, but the spearman turns out of the way, spinning off to the left as the knife strikes nothing but the empty space left.  In the end, it is Rondald who has shaken off his shield and gripped his own longknife in his hand who thrusts the killing blow into the spearman, his weapon sinking hilt-deep into the man's back at his kidneys, his eyes slidng immediately backwards in his head as he collapses to the ground, inert and useless.

The moment seems to put Magnus back on his hinges, he buckles to one knee, his chest heaving even as one side wheezes and bubbles blood uselessly, his sweat running in rivulets across the length of his enormous nose.  He pushes himself back to his feet, his injured hoof shooting pains up his leg that make it agonizing to stand, luckily for him there is little need...

The last of their foes, the old man, whispers words of power in near simulacrum with Judoc who floats high above.  Judoc's spell ignites a flaming sword which bursts from his hand, while the elder's spell floods the top of the staircase in impenetrable darkness.  Judoc lashes out with his fiery weapon, the thing disappearing completely into the darkness as it descends, though an inhuman scream foretells the success of the blow.  Judoc plunges ahead into the darkness, his whole body consumed, and though it takes but a second, it seems a lifetime for many of the others before a gurgling scream and the soft thunk of a body hitting stone.  It is several moments later before the others see Judoc stepping out of the confines of the spell, a robed sleeve and shoulder supported in one arm as he attempts to lift the old man back over the barricade...

---

It is several hours that the small party, the group from the Fort on Three Corners waits, at first, not trusting that they have fought their last battle, but left with little choice when over half of their party is either too injured or too exhausted to move at any pace faster than a limp.

The first surprise happens only moments after the fight has ended, for the spearman, his spilled intestines and the blood that has spattered on the floor below him and on the weapons and horns of our heroes disappears at once into nothingness.  The only trace of the vicious fighter is the spear he has left behind, which still clings to a maroon patch of Magnus's drying blood.

Judoc is perhaps the first one to recover fully, though his work is more than cut out for him with a pair of his own that have badly broken limbs and himself the only one with any skill to heal it.  He sends Aiah off to check on the women, and to ensure the blackbird is not on his way back to bother them before staring on his work, casting an enormously complex spell on Gustav's leg which fills the swordsman with a sensation of needles prickling his skin, his muscles and the bones below.  It is not entirely unpleasant, though it does not seem to regenerate the use of his limb immediately.

Finn and Giles volunteer to scout out below, hoping they have seen the worst of the tower, though being savvy enough to know not to trust on only hope.  They return some forty-five minutes later, Finn with a backpack full of items and a similar trove of stories.

Below the main floor is the kitchens and storage, pantries and lockers full of food and household items, one entirely of weapons, and another locked storage room that ended up being the wizards wine cabinet.  Here were the best items to plunder, wine bottles ranging from a pint to a half-gallon, crystal decanters, and various containers on the other side of the room with preserved organs suspended in translucent liquids and bottles of rare ingredients, such as one jar of shimmering purple leaves or a small bottle of a dark amber liquid that smells strongly of blood.  On a stroke of whimsy, Finn even pushed behind one of the cabinets to examine a small crack in the stone wall, a move which revealed a small opening where he found a dozen vials of potion.  At the back of the room Finn mentions a large wood and ironwork door that stood open, with evidence of a hasty retreat from several different footprints.

The floor below (where again, Finn had to pick a lock by magical means) was a prison of sorts, a long hallway with a row of four empty cells, though its most interesting component was far at the end of the hallway, where the tunnel opened into into a wide circular room.  Spread all about the edges were instruments of torture, an iron maiden and a rack, a large bench with various sharp and devious implements.  Bones litter the floor here, massive things, some six inches thick and nearly four feet long...  In the middle of the room sits an iron brazier, its innards smoldering coals of wood that must have been added at some point yesterday.  At the far side of the room, the two discover a skull, a long, reptilian maw with two rows of razor like teeth.  Finding little of value and even less motivation to stay, the two make their way back to the stairs, and it is only when Finn looks back over his shoulder for a moment that he sees the pattern to the work.  The bones are splayed out across the room in the form of an adult dragon, its body curling in upon itself because there is not enough room to spread it wide.  At the center lies the brazier in the place where its heart would have beaten in life...  Finn shudders to think of what the monster would have been capable of in undeath...

The last room below is the crypt, and it takes little exploration to note the recent disturbance of many skeletal feet - this must have been the place from where the necromancer retrieved his undead guard.  Eager to return to the others, Giles had pulled Finn back up to the top of the tower, confident that any other servants have long since fled.

But perhaps the strangest news comes from Aiah, who arrives just as Finn and Giles finish spinning their tales.  Their cart is standing out in the front courtyard, with two more of the golems who are simply standing at either side of it.  Aiah also allays the fears of the others, that the women are safe, fled to a hiding nook on the other side of the hillside.

It takes time, but Finn transforms into his falcon self, finds Terri and Odelia, and leads them back to the tower with the horses.

When the three arrive, Terri tells the others the story of the strange, patchwork man, looking at times to Odelia for support in the story, though Odelia adds only a few smiles and gestures.

OOC:  Congratulations everyone!  The spearman finally succumbed to his wounds and Judoc scored a crippling blow to the wizard, crippling his right hand and stunning him, which made his next attack (which brought him to unconsciousness) a mere formality.  Apart from that, you have now taken down all the threats in the tower and it seemed prudent to end things here.

Though there are golems below with your cart, a moment's investigation will show that they stand motionless, regardless of anything you do - so killing them, or ignoring them completely you are able to hitch your cart and leave them as is.

Munt, the patchwork man, does not return to the tower.

Likewise, there is nothing more seen of the Blackbird.

I'll spend the next couple of days cleaning up some admin stuff, character points, loot splitting, etc. etc.  I'm super happy that we were able to get to a logical conclusion here before I departed again.  More to come on where the game goes in OOC.  Feel free to write a closing post here, though please don't assume that any more time has passed than to the evening with everyone still located in the tower.  Where we go from here depends highly on what decisions you guys make as players, again, more in OOC.

After the spearman had fallen, it was all Magnus could do just to stay on his feet. As fire and darkness collided in the stairwell the Minotaur slowed...stopped for just a moment, then slowly began to limp towards where the action was occurring.

By the time he was able to peer over the golem wall it began to dawn on him that they had won.

Ashen pale (or at least as pale as his furred countenance could be) he carefully leveraged himself into a sitting position on the wall itself and then sat there looking like he might collapse entirely at any second, both hands pressed against the wound in his chest.

There was so much blood, and it seemed to come from so many places...his lips, his chest, his hoof and his face. Even his horns were stained with rivulets that were already starting to congeal. He wheezed audibly with every pained breath, his big eyes dull and listless, his mouth hung open. After maybe a minute he seemed to almost "wake up" and lifted his arm to begin to untie the lanyard around his wrist. He tried several times, mostly failed, then wormed his hand out of the loop that he had widened to let the mace fall to the floor. His shield was likewise discarded leaving his hands more free to nurse his wounds.

One time he reached up as if to scratch his face and then was surprised to find the entire side of it had been opened...he barely winced as he disturbed the flap of skin, shook his head and returned to sitting and suffering.

As his wits slowly began to return to him he did eventually seek out help, both from his own kit that he had brought along in his pack and from the others. Despite their victory he seemed entirely spent, not even able to summon up the energy to make more than a few words and he seemed constantly about to fall asleep entirely.

Such was his misery that he could not even summon up the will grimace from the incredible pain.

He went along as directed, but did not take the initiative on anything except sipping some water and packing his oozing wounds full of strips of linen and even this took some time given his sluggish and clumsy fingers.

They had their victory...and it seemed that they would all live to tell about it, but for the beast man the cost was still being counted.

Gustav points Judoc to Magnus first He Carried the Battle and is in more difficulty than I right now, heal him first.
After the healing, Gustav thanks Judoc, he then begins to start flexing his leg and his other joints, trying to restore freedom of movement.
He gathers all his things from where ever they landed, then goes to review the Alchemy Book (if he is able to read it). He stays with the others to keep the group together and helps as he can. He is significantly embarrassed by being so useless during the battle.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:41, Sat 06 Oct 2018.

In reply to Gustav Du Meseries (msg # 387):

Rondald, after the spearman had fallen, sought to help with the old man, but he was too late he had already fallen. His next thoughts were to use the old mans cloths as rags to help patch up Magnus and Giles.


By the time he had finished with that, it was already evening. The wounds had been extensive, so he was going to need more bandages, but incredibly, everyone survived and their foe lay dead. He loaded and cocked his crossbow again, just in case, but was very concerned when the cart appeared without his wife. He looks through the weapons to see if any might be useful. When Terri does appear finally, he is relieved and asks more about the patchwork man.

As Judoc had levitated through the air toward his target, a thin smile played across the student’s lips. His sword of flame shot from his open palm, and not even the other wizard’s Darkness spell could protect the necromancer from his doom. ”I take it that’s a no, then,” Judoc had said, his upper lip curled in distaste. ”Your horror is over, evil one.” He felt his flame slice into the other mage’s hand, the necromancer’s body going limp as a soaked dishcloth. In truth, the evil wizard’s fate had been sealed when Judoc was tasked with the old man’s destruction, the necromancer’s death a foregone conclusion.

But by God, is Judoc tired! He heaves the wizard’s body up and over the rude barricade, then deposits the body unceremoniously on the floor. ”Make sure he’s dead. ‘Suffer not a necromancer to live,’ or however that goes. Give me a quick rest, and I’ll start patching you boys up.” Judoc gazes across the floor, and expression of satisfaction and relief across his face. ”Excellent teamwork, lads! Our necromancer friend never stood a chance.” Collapsing wearily in a corner, Judoc sinks into a deep meditative state as his body begins to recover. The battle won, all that remained was to heal the wounded, despoil the necromancer’s tower, and locate the women.

Considering himself a "Connoisseur" of wines, Gustav has to look at them all ... making comments, most generally positive.

These will indeed be worth money, let me godown and see what else he may have

Gustav goes back down and looks through the wines, two more to sell and one to drink.