Finn steps back, gesturing for Labid to take care of the trap as best as he is able before they continue.  Labid removes his knife from his belt and stretches forward on hands and knees, gently running the blade across the fine wire, back and forth until the fine thread snaps and falls to the ground on both sides.

Labid tenses for a moment, waiting for some element of the trap to take effect, though several moments pass without any reaction.  Labid pads forward gently on hands and knees, up and into the broken section of wall, checking for more trips or traps, though after only a few moments he beckons Finn on and the thief finally makes his way forward to the courtyard.

Finn feels his way forward as well, wary that the wire was just part of some sort of pit trap, though the ground seems solid enough ahead of him.  He thrusts his head around the wall, looking towards the tower and the makeshift altar towards the south.

The woman is still there...  Clad in black with her back turned away...  making some ado over the altar or near it...

The monster of a man stands over her like a hulking beast...  a bear of a man... or even an ogre of one...  He is unmoving, though Finn cannot but help notice the brutal looking flail that hangs from his hip...

Thin wisps of black smoke begin to curl upwards from behind the two.

OOC:  You are about 12 yards away from the two, who are the only ones you can see in the courtyard still.  The man is an absolute hulk.  Certainly the largest, strongest, human you have ever seen in your life.  Think Andre the Giant that ate another Andre the Giant.  The woman is clad in an all black robe which obscures just about everything about her below the neck.  Her hair is black and falls down just past her shoulders.  She seems to be working while the man simply stands over her, watching.

There is possibly a path up to the top of the wall, though the repairs on the wall and scaffolding are blocking your way at both sides.  Probably the easiest way would be to climb the scaffolding, or simply to go around it and climb up the wall itself.

”Run little rabbit”, flows effortlessly from the mage-thief's mouth soft as silk in a half whisper while he stares off southward.  His gaze is strangely fixated on the mountain of a man and Finn's mind takes him back in time.

Almost instantly his minds eye is filled with the moving pictures of colorful imagination we call memory.  It was the spring of '90 and a teenage Finn Razzel was as tall as he is now but not filled out.  He was a skinny bean pole of something half way between kid and man.  But because he grew up on the mean streets of Azer he had by this young age already acquired several of the skills which he wielded to make a name for himself, his silver tongue and a talent for athletics.  He and his partner Ratri took a job finding a green jade which had been stolen out of the home of one Sir Rell Wallon.  They had a description of the gem, of the bandit who was seen fleeing from the estate and other necessary details.  Curiously it seemed that Finn and his partner were assumed to be too incompetent to find the real cause for the missing gem because the pair discovered that there was no catburglar.  Sir Wallon was having an affair and sold the gem to pay for his amorous activities.  As Finn and Ratri were closing in on the scandalous couple they ran afoul of Wallon's secret henchmen.  Finn can still see them clearly to this day.  Eshin was a greasy haired man with dirty hands and a crooked grin that seemed to never fade, but it was Mas that caught the young con mans attention that night as Finn and his partner were lured into a tavern bedroom and trapped.  Mas stood a full three heads taller than Finn but that wasn't the most striking thing about the brute.  Mas's muscles were enormous compared to anything he'd seen, and for a time he worked with a traveling circus.  Mas's bicep was bigger than Finns head.  He had obliviously used his gigantic size and perceptibly impossible strength to make a killing as a mercenary, both figuratively and literally.  The mans nose had been broken more times than an aging whores bed frame and he had several prominent and deep scars about his hands and face.  These were like medals that generals wore on dress uniforms to display their battle experience.  As thoughts of literally being ripped in half by this towering monster the freakish beast looked Finn in the eye, smirked and said with an air of malice, “run little rabbit”.  It was in that modest bedroom where lovers often met that Finn hopped, skipped and jumped out of the way of attempted blow after blow.  The young con man learned a critical lesson that has stuck with him ever since, to survive a fight with someone twice your size, don't get hit.

The plucky adventurer pulls himself back out of the sight from the south and turns to face his men.  His face adorns the mantle of leader once again.  ”I ain't 'bout ta try ta guess what they's up to but it ain't good.”  Razzel flicks his chin at Labid.  ”We saw feet up 'bove in the gatehouse.  They got guards around.  Trouble is we don't know how many.  If we're gonna beat 'em, and we are, we have ta keep the 'vantage on our side.  And that ain't numbers.  They got more'a them than there is'a us.  So how we stay alive is we keep the fights the way we want 'em.  We hit 'em with surprise an' don't bite off more than we can chew.”


OOC:
Finns overall plan is fairly simple.  We need to use guerrilla tactics here.   Hit a small outer force using surprise.  If we look to be winners, we kill them all.  If we can run down fleeing men so long as we don't chase them into another group of men.  If it looks like are going to loose we flee and regroup elsewhere.

Finn is worried about an unknown amount of guards on the walls.  So if our attack seems to provoke a large numbers of guards we run.  Finn is also concerned that the guards will have ranged weapons, and try to pick us off from the top of the wall.  So this is his plan.  Finn will climb the scaffolding onto the wall top.  He will then aim for max aim and fire at the bodyguard.  All of Finns men will be at the hole on ground level.  Omar will likewise be aiming with his bow at the bodyguard.  Finn and Omar will whisper to time their shots in unison.   Lets assume this triggers a response from the guards.  Omar and the men will stay on ground level to deal with that threat.  Finn will remain on the wall to deal with any guards on an upper level.  One of our top objectives is kill the bodyguard before he reaches my ground force.  If the black robed priest and bodyguard flee into the tower we will deal with that turn as it happens.  Do my men have questions or objections?

We don't as a group have any shields do we?

This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Sun 21 Aug 2022.

Finn steps up towards the scaffolding, intending to climb the thin planks of wood as if a makeshift ladder up to the top of the walls.

But...  as Finn has his foot half-raised something feels wrong.  The plank in his hand is giving far too much, even before he has put weight on it, and for a moment he doubts that the support can hold his weight, let alone all that of the stone it was holding in place.

Then Finn sees it, the thin bit of wire... the one Labid had cut, which runs all the way to the base of the scaffolding, tied off right at the bottom of the wood supports... where the planks have been sharpened to a point.

And the truth crashes down around Finn as he yanks his hand off of the scaffolding as if touching a hot stove...  He had thought the trap was a pitfall, a wire to set an intruder off balance and send him to his doom in a deeply dug pit.  But instead, the wire was not meant to trip at all...  It was meant to be kicked away... to yank out the supports out that were holding up the stones, which would then fall... crushing anyone standing in the breach.

These were not repairs at all, but a crudely laid trap disguised as repairs.  And Finn had almost tried to climb up the murderous contraption.

His heart thudding slightly with the close call, Finn shakes off the close call and instead walks around to the outside of the walls, scaling up the stone with relative ease.

Atop the battlements, he perches on one knee glaring to the south at the two.  His view now slightly bettered by the elevation, Finn can make out the woman on the altar from about the shoulders up.  Her head is shaved bald, and her body, at least that which Finn can see is unclothed, though it is heavily tattooed.

Behind the altar, the woman in black appears to be making a large fire, which is just starting to crackle and smoke to life.

OOC:  I'm assuming that plan is going to change slightly based on the trap specifics that you just discovered.  Standing in the breach for any length of time (especially if the combat went there) seems foolhardy as the propped up stones are big enough to crush even Munt.  Feel free to put the plan in OOC: though do me the favor of putting your action (whispering and firing your bow for example) IC so that I don't jump the gun on you, thinking that you are ready when you weren't quite there.

Once again as it has so many times the fates smile down upon Finn and he narrowly sidesteps danger.  Now he perches on the high wall looking down on the priestess and her menacing bodyguard.  The urge wells up within him to quick fire an arrow into the brutes neck or better, the witch.  But calm and reason win out for he knows nothing good will come of his loosing the advantage of surprise.

Just as easily as he climbed up Razzel hops down off the wall to land in the middle of his hirelings.  A nasty smirk adorns his face and a hint of malice lingers on his lips.  ”Listen here.  Bashar, yer gonna trip that trap.  Poke it good with yer staff, but, wait til we get to the coraner.  When the rocks fall you holler like they broke ya in half.”


OOC:
Bashar will wait by the hole as he is my weakest fighter.  The rest of us will move at a quick walk back south towards the gatehouse.  Not super slow but nothing noisy.  When we reach the SE corner Bashar will use his staff to poke the trap and make the boulders fall.  Priority #1 is that Bashar doesn't get hurt.  If he takes a few attempts that's ok.  When the rocks fall Bashar is to cry out in pain as if he was vaught under them.  He is to cry audibly for help and make sounds of pain until he can hear the guards on the other side the wall.  When he hears the guards arrive shut up and head to the gatehouse to join us.

When we reach the gatehouse I will use stealth to peek inside and assuming its clear we will use stealth to sneak through to the edge of the courtyard.  If Bashar was successful by this time I assume the guards will be talking about the ruckus and organizing a team to investigate.  I will peak into the courtyard.  If I see what I expect, which is the guards are distracted by the fallen rocks and the priest and brute are still doing the same I will begin casting Great Haste.  Its a 3 second casting time.  My instructions are when they see me begin casting wait 2 seconds and then they are to head into the courtyard and attack the priestess and any guards.  I will take on the brute.

This message was last edited by the player at 06:26, Thu 25 Aug 2022.

Finn explains the plan.  Bashar will be set as bait, a distraction for the baddies so that Finn and the other true fighters can get a few hits in amidst the chaos before their enemies are any wiser.  It seems to Finn as he explains that Bashar seems eager to make up for his earlier blunder, for he simply nods enthusiastically, making no complaint about his solitary role despite the danger.

As soon as he is confident that everyone knows the plan, Finn bids Bashar good luck before turning with the others and heading towards the corner of the walls, where the spire climbs up into the low-hanging clouds above.

As they turn the corner, Finn sends a brief glance off towards his hire, who he sees jabbing the bottom of the scaffolding with his staff from a distance.

They haven't made it more than a few steps before they can hear the heavy sound of rockfall in the distance.

Cccrraaaathunkthunkthunk!

"Allah no!!!"  The sound of Bashar's scream carries to them even from around the walls and the tower.  "Help me!  Allah deliver me!"

Finn presses forward, increasing his gate as he splashes through the low water where the edges of the wall have sunken into the shore of the lake.  Behind him, the others seem to be both keeping up and keeping quiet, the rustling grass at their feet being far overshadowed by the distant screams of their companion.

Counting in his head at the start of the distraction, Finn has made it to about twenty as he kneels down at the edges of the gatehouse, peering up and through the entryway to see if the coast is clear.

Through the small holes in the ceiling of the gate, Finn can see the backs of a handful of feet, as if the men are standing and facing the back wall of the gatehouse.  Voices too trickle down, excited and talking over each other such that they are hard to distinguish, though a few seem to carry over the others.

"If he's alive Hiatha will have something to say about it!"

"His blood will be spilt for the master!  More blood to bring the cursed one back!"

OOC:  It's been about 20 seconds since the trap was set off.  The guards in the second story of the gate house don't seem to be moving yet.  I've got a map below to give you a little better perspective as to where you are.  You no longer have any view of the courtyard.  The 'M' holes are the holes in the ceiling of the gatehouse that you can see through that are probably about a yard wide.  Everyone you can see is lined up near the back of the gatehouse, facing the back wall, although you have a very limited view (like lower calf and down) even of the people you can see.

Please post any immediate action, or what you are waiting on in order to start moving in.


This message was last edited by the GM at 18:45, Thu 25 Aug 2022.

Everything is going to plan.  As Finn creeps towards the gatehouse his men are quiet enough.  He hears the crash of the heavy rocks and the screams of his actor.  And he knows Bashar is only playing because if the man had truly accidentally spilled the trap on himself his calls would be something like, 'FINNNNNNN.  IT HURRRRTS SO FUCKING BAD.  COME SAVE ME'.

Razzel peeks around the corner, now any second the second floor guards will rush off towards the breach and the enemy incursion, to do their duty and protect the keep.  Any second.  Finn eyes the feet and counts.  One, two, three, maybe four men.  Just another second while they gather their weapons and they'll be running off.

With a grimace Finn turns to eye Omar.  The plucky leader fumes at no one in particular.  He makes a face as if he's just eaten half a raw onion while a rhino has stepped on his foot.  He turns back to the second floor men, raises his bow and draws back the feathers to his ear.  Yer tauntin' me, aint cha?  He only half hears them chatting about the cursed one.

The mage-thief would love to hamstring one or two of those murderous sons-of-bitches but he knows the best thing he has going right now is surprise.  He turns to whisper at his men.  ”Be quiet an' dont let the big guy hit ya.”


OOC:
By 'lined up near the back of the gatehouse, facing the back wall...', I assume you mean they are near the outer wall but looking in the direction of the inner wall?  So they are more south but looking north towards the noise of the fallen boulders?

I am proceeding with the assumption that they can see through the murder holes and some kind of windows that allow them to see east, west, north and south out of the second floor.  Which means they cant see directly down very well except through the murder holes.

Plan is the same as before.  Sneak through the gatehouse and stay to the right side.  Look for traps as we go.  Order is as you have; me, Omar, Labid, Munt.  I will move to the box just northeast of the S.  Peek around the corner.  If I see what I expect, the priestess and brute casting and guarding, cast my spell in a whisper.  After 2 seconds they should go.  My instructions to them is don't let them flee into the tower and don't get hit by the big guy.

Finn is somewhat surprised when his brilliantly sprung trap doesn't seem to lead to the whole group of guards vacating the gate house, but he knows regardless that whatever distraction Bashar has provided, it isn't likely to get any better than it is now.

With a whisper to his men, Finn slinks forward, crouching down slightly to get underneath the sunken archway, and keeping his eyes on the murder holes lest one of the guards above notice his movement.  And it's lucky he is paying attention, for as Finn is almost through the archway, he notices another of the guards... this one looking back down through the hole at him, his face contorted in surprise.

"Intruders!"  Finn hears the shout from above in a strange accent of Arabic, though he's already through and on to the courtyard, stepping just past the entryway to keep from being a target either from the guards above or from the witch and her henchman.

"Shit!"  Omar curses as he too hurries through the short overhang, just avoiding a thick-shafted spear that is thrust down from above.

"Intruders?  Below us!  Where?  But Hiatha?"  Voices cut across each other in confusion from above in the gatehouse, and Labid rushes the last few feet, screeching as a spear narrowly misses him as well.

Munt is the only one who seems undisturbed, grabbing the last spear that strikes down through the murder hole and pulling on it with force, causing a scream from above as a man falls down through the hole, striking down hard on the earth below, splayed out on his bare chest as he stares up in surprise at the four.

Down the short stretch of the wall, Finn can see the woman, standing up from a crouch where she was tending a low burning fire.  Much farther beyond, at the gap where Bashar had set their trap, the massive guard lumbers over the freshly churned stone, just now turning to see what is afoot behind him.

Seeing all his surprise go up in smoke, Finn concentrates on his spellwork, knowing that hitting his enemies hard and early is his best chance to win without injury.

OOC:  Map below.  All the enemies seem surprised, though at least now are aware of your presence.  A few good rolls have resulted in misses on all the spear attacks from the guards, not to mention Munt grabbing one of the spears and heaving one of the men down onto the ground from above.  The man is unarmored, and unarmed (his spear having been ripped from his hands by Munt) and clothed only in a leather wrap around his waist.  He is heavily tattooed however, with both black and colored images crawling across his body, limbs and even up his face.

While I'm sure you intended to keep the group from being seen by the woman/brute, there simply isn't enough space to stand for all of you that isn't vulnerable either to spears from above or sight from the courtyard.  I figured the latter was the lesser evil.

I left you at 1 second of concentration left before you cast greater haste just in case being found changed your plan.  I accidentally charged you for it already though, so I'll give you the FP back if you do change your mind.

Let's do 5 seconds worth of action, or whatever you are comfortable with less than that.

Finn rushes himself through the swampy and decaying gatehouse.  He knows time is against him.  His small force is vastly outnumbered.  The obvious tactic is to use guerrilla warfare, however, that works best when the small rebel force knows the local terrain and can use it and hit and run tactics against a larger group.  Sadly Razzel is outnumbered and wandering around this fort blind compared to its occupants.  Thankfully the plucky leader has something that gives them an edge...Finn.

The priestess comes into view and her machinations on fire starting.  The adventurer has no idea what she's up to but it cant be good so putting an end to it, and her, is job number one.  Finn knows the perfect spell for this occasion but it is difficult to pull off.  The incantation and finger movements are precise and complex, it will take all of his keen wit and concentration to pull off.  While casting the optimistic entrepreneur chuckles to himself as he spies the dumb oaf investigating the ruse at the break in the wall.  And finally Finn is rewarded when the ritual is complete as the magic flows through him and while the energy needed was costly Finn barely feels the punch.  Instead his senses are heightened.  Time moves slower.  For him it as if the world just woke up from a long nap, or their clothes were soaked in tar making any movement laborious.  Finn's hand jerks to his belt and instantly the long finely crafted blade is in his hand.  His feet begin beating forward towards the evil woman.  He casts a glance towards the mountain of a man who is too far away from his charge to be any good, and he tosses a chiding comment.  ”Made you look.”


OOC:
Whew.  Lol.  Another lucky feather in my cap that all the spear attacks missed, and resulted in one of the 2nd floor guards winding up prone among my henchmen.  Hmmm, you made a point of mentioning the extensive tattoo work.  Seems like this is supposed to be significant but I haven't the foggiest.  Did these symbols or a people having tattoos get mentioned before and in my on and off attendance I brain farted it?  Or is this foreshadowing?

It was my hope that our presence wouldn't be detected until we attacked but for a brief time Finn was a roadie for the folk minstrel bard group, Thee Rolling Stones, and he tries to live by one their lyrics.  'You cant always get what you want.'  As usual you guessed as I would have requested.  And perfect on the 2/3 done casting.  No, being seen does not change my plans, I will continue casting and assume the roll I submitted stands.  I will give you 5 seconds worth and you can edit as needed.

Sword is in main hand, bow is in off hand.  Drop the arrow I had knocked earlier.

This message was last edited by the player at 05:28, Wed 31 Aug 2022.

Finn smiles with satisfactions as he casts his spell and the world seems to slow down around him.  Behind him, Labid shouts with glee as he brings down his club in slow motion upon the fallen guard.

Finn's sword leaps to his hand and he starts off at a run straight for the black robed woman, hoping to take someone quickly out of the fray.  As he is running, he has a moment to look around as he charges forward, and a few things occur to him.

Just behind the woman and to the side is a large bundle of wood, which almost seems like a mattress for another woman.  This second woman, lying on the bundles is totally nude, tattooed from her knees to her wrists, and is clearly dead, for she is coated in blood which has poured from a gaping wound in her chest.  The bundles of wood even now crackle to life with flame, licking upwards in hunger towards the newly deceased.

The woman in black reaches... her movements laughably slow, like her body is held back by iron weights... towards the wall, grabbing from it a long spear which she grabs in her right hand in a balanced grip while in her left hand she produces some blackened sphere...  She grins.  Her lips spreading to display a mouthful of inhuman teeth, each one shaped or filed down to a point like a wolf or a shark.

Finn readies himself for the attack, bringing his broadsword overhead for a vicious slash, though at the last moment, the mage throws the blackened orb straight at him!  Finn first thinks to cartwheel around the missile, though as he tries, he realizes he won't quite clear its path.  Luckly for Finn, the ball too seems to be flying at half-speed giving him time to reorient and spin away.  He brings his sword down in a brutal cut, though the woman seems ready, heaving her body out of the path of his weapon just in time.

Behind him, Omar screams in pain!  Finn reorients, stepping to the side and slashing again, though the foul witch again dodges, moving her body along in synch with Finn's attacks.

The movement gives him some view to the side however, and he can see Omar, his shield hanging low and to the side as he continues to run, still a few yards away, his face screwed up in a painful expression, though he holds his sword ready to strike.

Munt and Labid seem farther back still, Munt charging from Labids side while Labid, the youngest of Finn's party, staggers upwards from a crouch, the leathers on his right leg sprouting a slow drip of red which flows down to his knee.

Finn attacks again!  His sword lashing out, though miraculously again the woman backpedals away just in time as she jabs with her own weapon, Finn narrowly missing the strike as he backflips away.

Finn attacks yet again, and this time, finally, he manages a hit!  And though his sword meats the resistance of steel underneath the woman's black robes, nevertheless he manages to cut open a wide rent in her side and blood flows freely down the black of her robes.

All at once, chaos breaks out, for Omar is there, his own broadsword smashing downwards, though somehow, miraculously, the woman swats her spear to the side, catching the blade and sending it astray.

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"  The scream would be laughable if the man behind it weren't so massive, his legs carrying him at ridiculous speeds despite his enormous size.  He holds forward a round shield, set with a spike just at the center, charging pell-mell into the fray, and readying to smash into Omar, though at the last second he stumbles, carrying foward and running straight past the outdoorsman.

And Munt is there too!  He tries to smash into the ogre...  Though he as well misses the mark, stumbling closest to Finn before he staggers back up and turns!

OOC:  That was 4 seconds.  You still have 7 seconds left on your Great Haste spell.  Note that you can do an all out attack and a regular attack and still have normal defenses for the turn based on the great haste spell.  On that round though, having the extra defense from the altered time rate definitely saved you.

Map is posted below.  Omar has sustained a moderate magical injury.  Labid has sustained a moderate injury as well.  You aren't seeing any of the guards from the gatehouse yet, including the one that fell through to the ground, though it appeared that Labid attacked him pretty quickly after he fell.

You've also managed a moderate injury to the witch, who seems a much more capable fighter than you initially gave her credit for.

The bonfire and sacrifice are in the little alcove between the gatehouse and the tower.  The big guy has a readied shield and an unreadied flail and is facing south.  Munt is facing east but turning back towards the fight. 


This message was last edited by the GM at 11:31, Tue 06 Sept 2022.

Finn Razzel is no stranger to danger.  But never in his wildest dreams could he have guessed this is where he'd be in his quest to reconstitute the treasures he lost in the fire at Perdition.  Battling a priestess and her ogre sized henchmen, possibly getting flanked any second by more vile fiends from the gatehouse.  His heart beat in his chest with excitement.  Even the crocodiles at the lake didn't pique his interest like this!

As the plucky leader bobs and weaves around the woman's spear thrusts he giggles with glee at how slow she is.  She seems a capable fighter but sadly, for her, she is no match for the cocky mercenary.  Even without his magical boon.  But the flail wielded by her minion will maim or kill his helpers and this Finn cannot abide.  He had intended on taking on the big man alone while the others took down the witch but it seems the fates had other plans.  So be it.

Finn briefly ponders the magic coursing through him causing him to act like a child after consuming their own weight in sugar.  This is damned wun'nerful.  Why ain't I doin' this more?  His mind dances across all the possibilities for this spell.  All manner of contests were wagers are concerned.  Chopping wood.  Sprinting.  Drinking.  But even as he imagines his purses bursting at the seams full of gold coin from all the bets he'd win it occurs to him why he doesn't whip this incantation out at every party and late night tavern trip.  Magic has a dark side.  Teachers call it backfire.  When magic goes right the effects are awe inspiring and miraculous.  But when magic gets away from the caster the results are sometimes terrifying. Finn never went to a proper school to learn magic but he heard tell of a professor who only had one leg.  He had a peg leg though he wasn't born that way.  In his youth the man got too big for his own britches after learning how to transport himself from one place to another.  He would magic himself everywhere, even from one room to the next in his own house.  They say practice makes perfect and thats true to a point.  But another saying is it only takes one.  The man had cast the spell so often and the magical trips become so mundane he let his mind wander during the casting of one of these spells.  And that was all it took.  The spell worked but not as intended.  He went where he wanted, downstairs.  His right leg went somewhere else.  He's still looking for the leg to this day.

With a soft growl and a sneer Finn fixes his gaze on the woman.  He needs to end her sooner rather than later.  If the men from the gatehouse join the fray while the ogreish beast is still swinging, well its not something he wants to think about.  Sending caution to the wind Razzel throws himself into a vicious series of chops and swings.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:29, Thu 08 Sept 2022.

Though Finn had intended to square off against the giant, he finds himself entirely occupied with the witch who dodges his blows with superhuman consistency.  Blow after blow she veers and dips, making Finn's blade repeatedly miss, though he does just as well to avoid every thrust of her spear.

A few steps away, three men fight together as one to take down the giant.  Munt lurches forward, grabbing the behemoth's leg as he reaches to his belt to draw his massive flail.  Omar and Labid each circle around slashing with sword and swinging with club, though blow after blow the thing manages to take off of the rim of his shield as he squirms away, Munt still hanging on by his fingertips.

With a roar, the beast of a man shoves Munt away as the hunchback had attempted to switch his grip to the flail.  Munt stumbles away, his body reversing on nimble feet as he squares off again, looking to attack again.  The flail hurls around in a wild and deadly arc, though Munt has more than enough time to crouch below it before lunging in again, this time jumping upwards into the brute's face!

With a shout as a response, the behemoth staggers back, bringing his shield to bear just in time and knocking Munt away.  But in all the chaos, he has forgotten to keep track of Omar and Labid...

The giant man screams as blood streams from his leg!  Omar's sword is slicked with blood and the blow seems so devastating that were it a normal man, the leg would be severed clean!  But somehow the giant still stands, stumbling to regain his balance.  Labid too takes advantage of the moment, smashing his club with a meaty thwack! against the leathers at the giant's hip.

Hoping to take advantage of the distraction, Finn lashes his sword in again and again!  This time, finally he scores two hits against the witch as her defenses finally succumb to Finn's never ending barrage of attacks.  His sword slices neat gouges across her chest and shoulder, scraping across the steel under her robes and bringing forth two, bright fonts of blood!

The witch staggers back, her breathing labored and her body sagging under her injuries.  She holds out a hand in front of her, at first Finn thinks to plead for mercy... at least until he hears her speak in some banal language.  [Language unknown:  "A plekwi ckut!"]

Finn falters for just a moment as he feels her magic wash over him like a wave, his breath catches in his chest as his body fights back whatever spell she has cast!

Far down along the wall, Finn can see two or three men stepping out from the main gatehouse into the courtyard...

OOC:  That was 4 seconds, which was probably far too long for me to do all in one post, but nothing serious happened until the end.  Let's do 2 seconds this time around.

First of all though, I need you to roll vs. HT.  Fit does count for you.

The witch has taken various cutting injuries and appears to be reeling from her injuries.  The giant appears to be still in fighting shape, despite taking what should be a crippling (or maiming) wound to the leg.

I won't go through all the details of what happened on all four turns, but you did end up using your two hero points on acrobatics rerolls and earned one back for a crit success.  Map is almost entirely unchanged apart from the two or three men who are poking their heads out into the courtyard and not moving your direction yet.

Magic is a funny thing.  For many centuries scholars and thaumatologists have been scratching and clawing to discover the secret recipes for bending the known laws of nature beyond the breaking point of common understanding.  In the largest universities where they possess all or at least almost all known spells there must be hundreds.  And that doesn't include the new and mutated effects created through research and experiment, or the accidental effects of misfire produced by overly risky spell casting.  So when the witch holds up her hand and utters some strange unknown words Finn freezes, just for the briefest of moments.  His mind scrambles in wonder at what might happen.  What arcane force is she trying to unleash?  Turn him into mist?  Or a toad?  Turn his innards into black sludge?  Send his hands and feet to another dimension?  Open a portal to another world to summon some devil to fight by her side?

Finn can feel for a fleeting bit of time the mana flow through and around him.  That part of energy of the world that resides in all things.  It covers him like a blanket and he cringes for he knows it means to do him harm.  His resolve toughens, his mind hardens itself as he prepares for the incursion.  And then, nothing.

Finns eyes turn as big as dinner plates as he cackles at the woman.  He means to say, 'Ya foolish evil crone' but in his excitement and laughter his words spill out as gibberish.  His mind is racing with the treasure trove at this priestess's command.  A mail shirt and she fights like a seasoned warrior.  She must be important.  Every mage keeps notes.  Or books if they have been pursuing their craft long enough.  Her books will becomes his.  He aches for it to be so.  As in his bones hurt knowing how close he is to taking her knowledge.  After Razzel considers it just compensation.  She and her followers kill innocent travelers and locals for nefarious ends, its only right that he kills her and takes her stuff.  Then a delicious idea pops in his  mind.  Maybe there is a reward out for this woman.  Now his face twists into a maniacal visage of near bloodlust mixed with glee as his sword flashes around her impossibly fast.


OOC:
Attack the priestess.  1st action – AoA for 2 attacks.  2nd action – normal attack with defense.  I don't want to kill her, I want to speak to her after combat is over.   So attack her until she falls unconscious then shift my focus on the beast.  Is he an ogre or half-ogre, or just a gigantic man?  If she falls then attack him until he is dead.

I assume I have 3 seconds left of my spell so I will roll those and see where we stand.

Finn feels drunk with power, his body and mind working in flashes of a moment that the witch cannot even begin to handle.  Though she has held out, perhaps longer than she should have, Finn can feel her fading.  Her actions are more sluggish, her spear thrusts wild, and her spellcraft apparently useless!

Finn laughs like a mad fool as his blade slashes again and again and again!  Though the witch smacks one blow away with her spear and twists out of the way of another, Finn's third blow cuts deep into the cloth of her robes and the steel below, bringing forth a font of crimson!

But the witch is laughing too...  A cold, high cackle that matches Finn in its raucousness and intensity.  She thrusts her spear at Finn's chest, which he dodges easily with a flourishing backbend...

And still the witch cackles right back.

"You fools!"  She crows in accented Arabic.  She grins from her bloodied teeth, her eyes locked in a look of mad jubilation.  "You are Skoulos's now!  You have been..."

But what Finn and the others had been would have to wait, at least for a few more moments.

Shink!  Shink!  Shink!

Thrice, Finn's blade smashes across the witch's body breaking links of her armor underneath and spraying blood in dizzying arcs.  The woman stumbles backwards from the triad of blows, her words caught in her mouth as she collapses to her back, her spear falling from her hand.

Finn turns his attention immediately to the other three, just in time to see Omar cut twin, massive swathes out of the giant's hip and thigh while Munt holds on to the man's weapon arm with a bearhug like grip.  The giant roars and staggers, sinking down to a single knee before he is fallen upon by Omar and Labid who hack and smash at his exposed neck and head, knocking him flat in only another moment.

A half-dozen yards away, the handful of gate guards who had begun to slowly move in Finn's direction suddenly think better of the idea as the two agents fall and instead they turn and flee, running at a full sprint back towards the gate!

Finn feels the magic leaving his body as his chest heaves with effort.  On the ground at his feet, the witch struggles to prop herself up to her elbows.

OOC:  It is 1345 on the 1st of June (I went back and looked, your thread started in May, somehow I made the mistake of going back a month instead of forward somewhere... consider it an April Fool's Joke, all the previous references to April have been edited).

You have taken 1 FP for the extended combat, though it now appears to be over unless you want to give chase to the guard.  The witch appears awake, though impossibly injured.  To be frank, you'd be amazed if she isn't close to death.  The giant (really just a very large man) is unconscious and dead or dying.

As for your folks, Omar is moderately injured and Labid lightly injured, and you haven't seen Bashar since he set off the trap.

All sorcerers inherently know when the end of the magic is near.  The recipe, the spell pulls a planned amount of mana from the surrounding life and when the pulled mana is done flowing through the mage the magic is over.  Done.  Finished.  Every magic user can feel it and Finn knows his heightened abilities are coming to an end, and the witch is still standing.   How, he wonders.  Its not an incredulous kind of disbelief that tickles him.  No, Razzel has pulled off many a fine feat over the years and while cocky he's not so arrogant or stupid to believe he's the only one on an entire continent who could muster such marvelous acts.  Its more a curiosity thing.  Her skill and stamina are inhuman, so where does it come from?  Is she a religious witch and not a scientific witch as he originally thought?  Does she come from some hidden sect of warrior witches who are just worth two men for every one of them?  Or, and this is what makes the mage-thief salivate like a pig at feeding time, does she possess some totem, an item that stores her power to be released at opportune times such as a skirmish?  The mystery is tantalizing.

And then it happens, as he knew it would.  One, two, three solid blows and the priestess's feet falter.  The plucky leader didn't know how or when she would fall to his quick strokes, but he knew she would.  But, what was the cryptic phrase she uttered?  Is this some kind of mind game or is she gloating in her defeat that Finn and company have indeed lost something?  This mystery is even more perplexing.

His razor sharp mind makes short work of the battle scene.  The impossibly huge bodyguard is off the board as they say in game terms, the witch seems impotent and the gatehouse men have apparently lost their zeal for the attack.  Finns smile is warm and broad as he nods to his men, a twinkle in his eye.  His breath is even but heavy and he seems in good control of his limbs.  Briefly he turns his gaze upon the strange woman and frowns as he points of the tip of his sharp blade at her, slicked with her own blood.  ”Ya so much as twitch'a finger er mak'a soun' an' I'll separate yer head from yer body.  Do whatt'ah say an' ya might see the sunrise t'morrah.”

Now Finn kneels beside the woman as he wipes the blood clean off his blade all the while spewing commands at his men.  Razzel feels warmed by the splendid job of his troops and he yearns to commend them but it wouldn't do to praise them in front of the enemy.  He does not want to show his hand, that this team is newly formed and needs the affirmations.


OOC:
She spoke in accented Arabic?  As in it was a second language for her?  Skoulos.  That name sounds familiar.  Has Finn heard it before?

My big picture plan is to heal my men, rest and question the witch.  But not here.  We're too close to the cave.  If possible keep the witch from dying but do it as quickly as possible.

Send Munt and Labid to retrieve Bashar, however, they need to be careful of the gatehouse men.  I don't want Munt and Labid getting picked off.  So if they can bring Bashar in without confronting the gatehouse men or getting ambushed then have them bring him back.

Between Omar and myself one of us will bandage the witch's wounds (I'm guessing I have the higher FA), just enough to keep her from dying, and one of us will hold a weapon at the ready on her.  If she so much looks like she's going to cast then kill her.   Try to keep her from bleeding out but don't do any more than the minimum.  Remove her armor and any gear.  Take what looks useful.  If successful, use some cloth to gag her and bind her hands and feet.

Assuming the group is reunited by this time have the men do a quick search and grab anything of value.  Someone should make sure the giant is truly dead.  Whether the witch is alive or dead we will leave through the gatehouse.  I will carry the witch over my shoulder with Omar behind me, he is to watch her and if she tries anything funny he is to kill her.  On our way out I will say to the gatehouse men that they're going to let us leave in peace or we'll kill them just like we did the witch and her bodyguard.

Head anywhere that seems like a suitable resting place perhaps 5 – 10 minutes from the ruined keep.  Far side of the lake will work if we wont be bothered by crocs.

Overjoyed, though unsurprised at his men's success, Finn gives his fighters a quick nod before turning his attention to the witch.  With a brief threat, punctuated by the point of his sword slicked with gore, Finn thinks to dazzle the woman into obedience.  However, before he has even finished the words the woman begins to laugh, bringing frothing bubbles of crimson between her sharpened teeth and lips.

“You are too late, fool!"  The woman smiles despite the clear deathblow.  "Already my master has breached the vault!  You can change nothing!  And nothing will change save for your devotion to Skoulos which will grow ever more in your souls!  You are blessed men to be vassals of Skoulos forever more!  As for me, I give my life to again raise the lich, so that I might live forever!”

The witch has cast the spell before Finn has the time to react.  One moment she is laying, propped on her elbows, the next, she holds a massive orb of storm blackness nearly the size of her own head.  He casts his sword down, insistent that he will kill her before she can injure any of his men, though Finn is the later of the two.

With an expression of glee painted in blood across her face, the witch pulls the black orb into her own flesh, shuddering in pain as her body imbibes it whole.  The witch spasms once, then comes to a rest, undisturbed for only a single instant before Finn's sword falls, cleaving all the way into the soft and sodden ground, the woman's head rolling freely, just as Finn had promised...

Though he is keen to pick up whatever loot he can find, Finn also knows he must rest, lest he find himself engaged in battle once again.  He quickly searches the dead woman, finding beneath her robes a set of chainmail far too small for anyone in their party but Labid, a small bottled potion, as well as an ornate and expensive looking knife shaped like a snake.  As for the giant, the fighter seems to only have his massive flail, a spiked medium shield, and his oversized armors.

Rushing his men along, Finn hurries out the gate, finds Bashar hiding just outside the gatehouse.  They wade their way along across the bridges and on to the far side of the lake to rest.

While Finn lays in the damp grass, Omar and Munt keep watch, though nothing seems to follow them on through the gates, and the guard has well and truly fled.

"That was one hell of a fight."  Omar says, his voice low and steady.  "I have never seen a man move that fast...  How did you do it Finn?"

"What do you think the woman mean when she said we were blessed to be vassals of Skoulos?"  Labid asks, interrupting Omar's thought.  "Does any of you feel... different?"

"My hands."  Munt answers plainly, holding up his massive appendage for the others to see.  His fingers, which are always deformed, now sport webbing at the base of the fingers.

"Mine too!"  Labid holds up his hand, showing the others the space between his fingers, which is now filled below the knuckle with a flap of skin, almost like the flesh on a fish's fin.

OOC:  It is 1352 on the 1st of June.  Let me know how long you want to rest.  Obviously the witch did not come quietly.  The giant is also dead.  All the guards have fled.  Let me know how long you want to rest.

Items available:
hide armor (this won't fit anyone)
spiked medium shield
flail
chainmail (fits mayble Labid)
spear
ceremonial dagger in the shape of a serpent
potion
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:40, Wed 21 Sept 2022.

Finn stands victorious over the strange witch.  Teeth filed into animal like little hunting weapons and tattoos covering her, but those dressings pale in comparison to her odd speech and obsession with her cause.  The lean, athletic man gloats over her defeat and capture of the prisoner, a smug visage hanging on his face shouting its presence like a bright red cloak.  And then she speaks and the mage-thief is mesmerized.  Opened the vault?  Devotion to Skoulos?  Vassals to this monster forever more?  And give her life to raise it, again?  Has she given her life before?  Or has he been raised before?  All according to her twisted mind that is.  She's one crazy bitch, he muses in his internal monologue.

To his men the movements are so subtle, so much a part of normal behavior that he seriously doubts his men would notice.  But Razzel had.  She was weaving a spell.  He would question if she cared about her life but as she just mumbled through a mouth of her own blood, she is thrilled to gift it to her true master.  The Lich.  The plucky leader hisses and grunts a rough 'Nooo...” as he brings his sword down.   He separates her head from her body just as he promised but even with his quick stroke he knows he was too late.  Whatever she had done to further her quest, she won that battle.  Finn sighs disappointingly and helps his men gather the gear.  With the quick search completed and their loot grabbed an idea pops into Finns head.  Being the wise ass that he is the young adventurer is tempted to nudge the witch's severed head with his booted toe while muttering 'Why you killing yourself?' done in a kind of bullying big brother tone, several times over.  However, his men are already on the verge of thinking he is crazy and there is too much risk that they wouldn't see his humor poking through, and instead judge him to be certifiably insane.  So quietly he leads the men through the gatehouse.

Finn tosses his pack down then lays with his head on it using it as a pillow.  He crosses his hands over his chest and crosses his feet and settles into a rest, a necessary thing for a mage after a magical battle.  Before his men begin speaking, now that he's far away from prying ears he addresses the obvious.  ”Ya'll did a fine job.  I couldn'ah assed fer better.  I been in alot'ta fights.  I'm proud ta fight 'longside you men.  Ya keep it up an' yer gettin' bonuses.”

Now Omar turns his curiosity Finn's way asking how he kept up a flurry of attacks.  Finn grins slyly wondering if he was going to be asked about it.  He beams with pride being able to show off the results of his hard work and study over the years.  ”I'm like yer old master, an' his pupil.”  Finns frowns temporarily.  ” 'Cept I aint been turned by'a demon.  I can bend nature sometimes.  Make it do what I want.  You call it magic.  Ya know how a soldier follows orders?  I'm just givin' nature new orders to follow.”

Then the conversation turns.  Innocent at first as they wonder what the crazy old witch meant.  But a dark, fearful fog descends over them as Munt and then Labid reveal that they are changing!  Evolving, like butterflies.  Except that Finn does not think the end result will be something better and beautiful.  He shudders quietly as he thinks about what he's brought these men into.  They had good lives.  Perhaps mundane and poor being that they were dirt farmers, but their lives did not involve being magicked into something disgusting.  Slowly Razzel removes his own gloves and then boots, breathing a sigh of relief, and then feeling a bit guilty as he catches Munts and Labids eyes.  The ever optimistic mage-thief is quiet for a minute and its clear he is deep in soulful thought.  When he begins his tone is serious and present.  ”Anyone know what a Lich is?  His men stare back at him, if they have stories they aren't volunteering.  He nods expecting no less.  ”I aint no expert but I heard some tales.  Never knew anyone who saw one.  I always thought they was made up.  Ta scare off would'be grave robbers like me.  The problem with bein' a sorcerer is it takes a'fuck ton long time ta master yer craft.  An' then ya die, 'cause yer old.  As the stories go some nutty ol' coot figured out how ta come back from beyond the grave.  But his second self aint alive.  He's the walking dead.  The idea is when you can live forever there aint no limit to yer power.  An' 'ol bag-a-cats, she means ta have a seat at his table when he comes back.”  Finn sighs and takes a sip from his water bag to let the words sink in.  I really got'ta bring some rum on these getaways.  ”The whole reason we come here is cause a'what ya saw me do back there.”  He thumbs towards the gatehouse.  ”I want her spell book.  An' her masters books.  I want 'em all.  But...”, Razzel runs a hand through his slick hair, ”...now we got more reasons to be here.  We got'ta stop them from wakin' up ol' Dry Rot an', I'm guessin' that's a curse.  So we need to fix that 'fore we leave.”  The plucky leader points at the webbed hands.


OOC:
I am only interested in the dagger and potion.  I would suggest Labid claim the chain mail but if he prefers something lighter I wont micro manage him.  As I don't want wandering foes using this gear against us we will take it all to our resting spot and whatever my men don't want can be left behind.  When we are ready to leave this mountain is when we'll decide what to do with it.  If its not too late I would have liked to bring the witch's head with us.  If no one wants the flail someone is to tie the head to the flail and toss them into the lake.  Finn has a distrust of the unexpected and he doesn't want the witch making an appearance in the final act.

All the guards fled?  Like fled the keep?  Can I tell where they went?  Did we see them in the distance when we left?

The plan is to rest 1 hour to get me back to full FP and cast some healing on my men.  I will re-evaluate depending on how the spells go.

This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

As he and his men sit lounging in the grass by the lake Finn does his best to relax.  Calm is necessary to get his strength back but several things needle at him.  The witch's words and the webbing growing at his mens hands chief among them.  But Razzel resigns himself that it would seem their only way now is forward.  If the lich threat is real the world will suffer horrifically if it wakes.  And there must be some kind of cure for the affliction even if the only cure is snuffing out these vile cultists.

After a long time in the grass the plucky leader hops to his feet and breathes deeply while stretching his arms.  He lets out a long 'ahhhhhhh'.   He walks to Omar and knees down.  ”Now lets see about that.”  He flicks a chin at the mans wound as his voice drops low and emits strange long forgotten ancient words.  He places a hand on the wound for just a moment.

Finn repeats the ritual on Labid.  Upon the work being complete the mage-thief looks tired.  Not exhausted, just tired.  A clear difference from when he first stood.  He walks causally and takes his place where he had been relaxing on his pack.  He fishes out the vial he took from the priestess and twirls it in his fingers, wondering if its worth the risk.  If he had his equipment, and time, he could make a sound guess to the nature of the potion.  But the only requirement of a field test involves a tiny sip.  Quick and dirty as they say but highly dangerous as the test sometimes affects the user as if he drank the whole bottle.   A healing elixir?  Not so bad.  Deadly snake poison?  Very bad.


OOC:
Heal Omar and then Labid.  Then rest for 1 hour.

This message was last edited by the player at 16:14, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

Finn and the others move to rest for Finn (and the others) to regain their strength after the fight.  Finn takes only the potion and snake dagger, though he encourages Labid to take the woman's chain shirt, which the youth agrees to immediately.

Though as they rest, the conversation quickly turns to Malak al-Mawt, and what it is to become a Lich...    Munt frowns.

"When the mage, Malakai came to speak with my master long ago, they spoke of the old library... but Malakai also spoke of how Malak Al-Mawt had saved himself from death.  How he had cast his soul into a phylactery.  How he had joined the ranks of forever undying and forever unliving.  That he had remade himself as the Lich Skoulos..."

Munt sighs and shakes his head.

"Master had thought him a gullible fool.  He scoffed at the idea and had argued that had the great wizard cursed himself as such, he would not have been gone all these centuries...  Malak had let the matter drop.  I had thought perhaps master had talked him into reason, though perhaps he was only trying to let the issue settle so that he could gain whatever knowledge and sources my master held..."

Munt quiets into silence, holding up his hand and gazing at the stringy flesh now conjoining his fingers at the base.

"I don't know about all of that..."  Omar says in his somber but resolute voice.  "But if this witch has cast a curse upon Labid and Munt, then we must do what we can to make things right.  There's no doubt that this Malakai is the source... either he will fix it willingly... or he will succumb to my blade and fix it by force."

OOC:  It is 1455 on the 1st of June.  Potion and snake knife added to your inventory.  Labid took the chainmail as you recommended.

As for the guards, they ran to the edge of the lake and up the slope as if they were leaving the mountain.  You lost sight of them as they were lost in the wood at the edge of the crater.

You have successfully healed both Labid and Omar, who appear back up to full strength.

Please roll vs. HT.

As Finn lays with his men in the grass by the lake the cool mountain air nips at his skin but what he finds infinitely more annoying is the passage of time.  Finding the hidden trinkets of the world has always been one of his great loves as far back as he can remember and its the primary driver for him being here.  But now preventing the Lich from awakening and curing the curse that is afflicting two of his group and possibly all of them, that goal eats at him like a swarm of warrior ants.

Thankfully his irritation finds releif when Munt mentions a phylactery.  This yanks Razzel from his dwelling on how they're not killing cultists.  His head cocks to one side and his eyebrows scrunch.  ”You mean like a box?  Did ol' Al-Mawt put his self in some cookie jar?”

The happy-go-lucky leader twirls the new found bottle in his fingers for what seems like hours as he waits not so patiently for his strength to return.  He weighs the pros and cons of taking a sip.  They seem equally balanced and he is about to uncork the thing to sample it when Omar speaks up.  Finn nods appreciatively and pats the well made sword on his hip.  ”Aye.   Wer gonna fin' ol' Malakai.  He's gonna put it all right.   One way, er another.”


OOC:
Finn is asking if Munt meant Malakai put some piece of himself in a container, similar to Soul Jar.

If I am back to full fatigue we'll head back to the courtyard and do a quick search of the upstairs gatehouse section.  I assume they took most of their stuff but you never know.

This message was last edited by the player at 15:21, Mon 26 Sept 2022.

When Finn asks Munt about Malak's soul and whatever spell or receptacle he might have used, the monstrous hunchback merely shakes his head.

"I admit, I did not understand exactly what they were talking about.  I am sure my master knew more of it than me.  What items could hold a soul?  And what fool would so eagerly be rid of what separates him from...?"

Munt's question trails off and he does not finish it.  Instead, he merely shakes his head again.

"I cannot claim to know what the phylactery is.  It could well be a box, or a jar, or a child's stuffed doll.  I cannot even be sure it is real, though I think that Malakai was convinced it was.  Certainly it seems that these extremists seek to bring the archmage back from death in one way or another."

Finn chews on the words as he continues to rest.  Though an hour later, he assesses that he is good to go.

On the way back to the courtyard, Finn ducks his head into the second floor of the gatehouse through one of the murder holes.  It appears the area has not been cleaned in some time and there is muck and filth creeping out from the corners.  Despite this however, he manages to find an old quiver, rotted through but still full of arrows that appear to have stood the test of time.  He takes one out and checks the edge, finding that the heads have been coated in silver.  In another corner of the room he finds another glass vial, full of a hearty red fluid which has seeped up almost entirely through the cork.

As he descends back down, Finn takes looks around the courtyard.  Labid too is taking a look around, though oddly, he is using his forearm to shade his eyes despite the heavy cloud cover overhead.

Noting Finn's watchful eye, Labid casually asks, "Seem like it's brightened up to anyone else out here?"

It has not, though Finn realizes as Labid lowers his arm that the boy's eyes seem to have grown nearly two or three times their normal size, bulging outward like some freakish cartoon of a man in shock.

OOC:  It is 1605 on the 1st of June.

In the upper floor of the gatehouse, you found 22 silver tipped arrows and another unknown potion.

I'm assuming your cookie jar comment is a result of you having googled the word phylactery (I had to google it too) or else trying to see the game mechanics behind the spell.  Finn may have heard ghost stories, but he's not really tuned into the magical community enough to have any idea about spells like soul jar or lich.  That being said, based on Munt's description, it sounds a lot like something close to soul jar.

It's funny that having the unlucky disadvantage, you seem to roll more crits (maybe going both ways) than any other player.  I actually required another HT roll from you, but rather than stop things for a result, I just rolled for you and crit succeeded.  You get your hero point back from the rerolled crit failure earlier.

Finn listens intently to Munt speak on the idea of Malak's soul.  A doll?  He had not considered the thing to be anything other than the mystical energy that hangs invisibly in the cosmos.  Or a proper box.  As in an actual box, because that's how he heard the creepy and strange tavern tale spun.  He would have to think on this as they traveled deeper into the complex.

Razzel's face lights up in the gatehouse when he finds not one but two treasures.  If these trinkets do not find use on this daring mission they will fetch a nice price after.  The plucky leader slides the mystery elixir into a worn dusty belt pouch, then he carefully divides the silver headed beauties in half and hands one set to his soldier.  Once the potion is out of sight he wonders if he should taste it, to glean its meaning.  Now he has two such enhancers to tempt him.  Like a drunken man insanely trying to bed some well known courtly Lady then being dragged back at the last instant he is reminded of the superior price of failure.  If even one of these mystery potions is a deadly venom he would never wake up.  But this harsh reality does little to calm his temptation.

Before long the men find themselves in the courtyard ready to advance on the caves when Labid says something about the sun.  It doesn't take Finn long to see why.  The boys eyes are...transforming.  The mage-thief grunts and his smile turns upside down.  He puts a hand on the youths shoulder.  ”No son.  It ain't bright out.  It's yer eyes.  They're a'changin'.  Inta what, I dunno.”  He wills himself to wipe away his grimace and replace it with his normal confident resolve.  He looks over the small group.  ”Looks like the devil's got hot heels an' he means ta run us down.  Time ain't our frien' no more.  Wur gonna fine that shit eatin' scum sucker 'fore we git too far gone.  An' he's gonna put us right.  Er else.”  Finn draws a lone finger across his neck from the left side to the right while making a sound similar to a knife scraping on stone.

Minutes later Finn and his men are standing near the center of the courtyard staring up into the open cave mouth.  It is taunting them.  Daring them to enter, at their own peril.  The confident adventurer looks down at his feet to see the blue mist near his toes breaking and dissipating into nothing.  He crosses his arms over his chest and rubs his fingers over his lower jaw as he thinks.  He doesn't really want to touch this blueish unknown vapor and he has assumed since spying it yesterday that it could not be good.  But not touching the mist means magic and after the second affliction to appear within hours Razzel is highly reluctant to dawdle any more than is necessary.  He cannot afford to magic his way past every problem.

Finn finishes what he calls his skull session, though usually it involves the opinions of others.  This one was solely in his own head.  He turns around and stretches out a hand.  ”Who's got rope?”, he asks simply.  When it is handed over he ties one around his waist.  Before anyone can object he goes on.  ”Ah-wunder if the blue lagoon's good fer ya.  I mean, they gotta go through it.  Maybe it keeps 'em from changin'.  If not, an' it knocks me out, drag me back.  An' pour this down ma throat.”



OOC:
Yup.  I had to Google a  phylactery.  And good.  That's the angle I was playing Finn.  He has heard a  story or two of the concept of a soul jar but has no idea how it works mechanically and never encountered any other mages or teachers who know the spell.

The dice roller hates me.  I never really had trouble until Rylock.  Admittedly he didn't have great skills but even skills of 13 proved unreliable.  One time I missed hitting a 13.  So I burned a Hero Point.  And in three more tries almost couldn't roll a 13 or less.  Ceredyn himself even said he's never seen the dice roller do so miserably for a player, even Beothatch.  That said the dice roller is much kinder to Finn.

I will take 11 silver tipped arrows and give the other 11 to Omar.   I will take the unknown potion.

Finns plan is pretty simple.  Tie some rope around my waist.  Omar will hold the other end.  I will jog up the hill and into the cave.  Move using Stealth once in the cave.  If the mist incapacitates me they are to drag me back out of the mist and we'll try Plan B.  If I am ok I will attempt to disable whatever is creating the mist.  Backpack is my hand so I can drop it or toss it if needed.  Other hand is empty.

Explain the healing potion in my belt pouch.  Make sure they understand which one is the healing potion since I have several.  I will also instruct them if the need is dire they can use it on anyone.

Finn splits up the loot from the gatehouse, giving half of the arrows to Omar, which fill his quiver to the brim, before taking the latter half for himself.  As for the potion, Finn tucks it away with his others within the small belt pouch.

The plan is quickly explained and Labid offers a rope with which Finn can execute it.  The treasure hunter ties the bit of chord about his waist before trudging up to the north side of the courtyard, where he looks up to the mouth of the cave above.

At the northern end of the courtyard, a crude, makeshift scaffold not unlike the ones along the walls rises to the maw of the cave above.  A sickly blue miasma seeps down from above, cascading off the scaffold and spilling down into the courtyard below.

Cautiously, Finn walks forwards into the blue mist, testing its properties with a hand.  He feels the colored fog roll off with a sticky wetness, leaving behind just a faint tingling.

Finn presses forward, stepping his whole body into the rolling blue mist, though for the moment at least, he feels no ill effects.  He looks up upon the scaffold, testing it with a hand.  This one appears to be sturdy, at least as far as Finn can tell.  After all, there doesn't appear to be any other way for the cultists to climb to get to the cave above.

OOC:  It is 1610 on the 1st of June.  No ill effects from the mist apart from some tinglies. Everyone else is still 10 yards or so behind you.  There is definitely not enough rope for you to climb the scaffolding without the other end entering the mist as well.

Finn stands before the scaffolding looking up, then down and behind him.  He sighs.  Something doesn't feel right about this.  The mist.  The cave entrance.  He is an odd fellow, Razzel is an eternal optimist but also he doesn't trust easily.  Perhaps he expects people to do as he would do, trap this place to the gills.  He places a hand on one of the beams, then a foot.  It feels solid enough.  But his mind wanders back to the mist.  Is it harmful?  Will it react violently with his men who are being mutated?

Finn stands there contemplating the hundreds of options before him for what seems like an hour.  Then something pulls him back with the seeming force of a slap to the face.  Right or wrong, he must move forward.  Their only hope is finding the leaders here and getting answers.  So he winds a hand around the rope and gives it a tug.


OOC:
If I only have about 10 yards of rope pull it back to me and wave the men forward.  Untie the rope from my waist and return it to the owner.  Watch the men for 2 full minutes to see if they have any bad reactions.  If no, then climb the scaffolding.  Go slow at the top in case they have sentries in the cave.  I will go alone.  I will wave them up if I give the all clear.  Omar is to wait with bow out in case of trouble until he climbs.  Order of climb:  same as marching order.

Knowing that this foul blue mist is unlikely to be benign, Finn is hesitant to introduce yet more risk to his men.  However, within a few moments he remembers that time is not on their side... that his hesitation may be causing a risk all on its own... that Labid and Munt may change all the more while Finn takes his time on decisions he does not have all the information to make...

In the end, Finn decides he does not have the time to wait for more information.  He waves his men forward and watches intently as their feet hit the blue mist which pools and dissipates at the base of the scaffolding.  The foul fumes swirl about their ankles in eddies of mist which seem to disappear amongst the shadows before being replaced by a fresh surge.

As Finn waits however, he notes no imminent harm.

Putting the next step of action into place, Finn puts the whole of his weight onto the scaffolding, ready to leap himself clear if the structure does not hold him.  Unlike the scaffolding around the walls however, this structure seems to hold firm, and Finn is quickly making his way up without issue.

Blue mist cascades over his hands and his face, forcing Finn to cock his head out and away from the wall to see his way upwards.  But even with the mist hitting him at every part of his body, Finn cannot tell of any harm the gas is doing.

The climb is short and before long, Finn pulls himself off the high scaffold and onto the rocky ledge above.  Ahead is a narrow cave, widening to a small natural cavern.  Even from here, Finn can see the censer, glowing with an eerie inner light.  The foul blue fumes seem to pour from the object, casting odd and shifting shadows along the walls, before they cascade away from the chamber.

But apart from the censer, the cave appears to be empty.

Finn motions for the others to come up, and one at a time, each of his men makes the easy climb until all three of them are standing on the ledge, looking into the cave beyond.

OOC:  It is 1620 on the 1st of June.

No issues climbing the scaffold or in getting to the cave.

Finn is a complicated man.  Adventurous, yes.  Free thinker, sure.  Tough, loyal, without a doubt.  Highly skilled in many crafts?   Please.  But he was also untrusting of most.  Being in the foothills of an ancient sunken stronghold of a mad magical warlord, trying to be revived by another mad magical tyrant wasn’t  helping his trust issues.

Standing at the top of the cave entrance looking at his men below who were now knee deep in the blue mist gave him even more worry.  He half expected something to happen.  Anything.  But the mist seemed to be benign.  He was the one who preferred doing the sneak attacks.  But he had not the time to stop and analyze the mist.  His men were cursed.  The milk was spilt.   And for all he knew he had been affected too but was changing more slowly.  Swallowing hard to fight back his apprehension he waves the men up and his tension eases slightly when they pass without incident.


OOC:
We will move through the cave at a walk.  Spend a few minutes investigating the source of the blue mist.  But I’m not sure I want to spend time trying to disable it since we’re already in it.  Look for passages deeper into the complex.  Both hands are empty.