Re: Stan—Morothâ Assault
The smoke continues to ooze out of the chest, filling up an area around you, about 20-ft around the burning chest. Upon breathing in the foul-tasting smoke, your stomach immediately protests, churning heavily and causes the room to spin...
You are nauseated
You being to breath slowly and heavy, a feeble attempt to avoid wrenching right there on the spot. Your condition causes you to become somewhat hyper-aware of the sounds coming from elsewhere. You hear Cradossk snarl loudly, and clashing of steel as the monster presumably battles Demios somewhere in the maze of bookshelves.
You bring your attention back to the burning chest as the orb of fire winks out, you no longer able to concentrate on keeping it burning—or perhaps it's outlived its' duration... you're not sure. What you are more focused on is keeping your proverbial shit together. Beads of sweat roll down your brow as you finally notice the thing moving inside the chest, which has now been reduced to cinders and white-hot glowing iron bands: a smaller, fleshy, piggly-looking demon.
It stands among the ashes and erupts in maniacal laughter, revealing to you rows of yellowed and rotten, stunted and broken teeth. A purple and green sour-mushroom cap bounces on the creature's head as it cackles. "Meesa sooo sorrri," the demon cries, "but yousa princess iss'n a'nudder castle!"
He grips his fat belly and continues to laugh. It takes you only a moment, but you realize you recognize this demon, a dretch Clementine commonly referred to as Mmon'ch. Although a lowly dretch, it possesses the cunning required to rise the ranks of Morotha's servants, attaining a station akin to that of a butler—quite the honor for one such as he.
While nauseated, your actions are limited to a single move action per round
You cannot attack, cast spells, concentrate on spells, or anything requiring attention
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:10, Fri 27 Jan 2012.