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Thread: Hourglass in the Sky

  1. #21
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    As the knight approached him, Bhatair flashed a smile and winked. "Good call lad. Ye got yer head screwed on right!" With that, the dwarf turned around and ran as fast as his short legs could handle.

    OOC:
    Bhatair won't be able to actually do any running until next round. Just wanted to get that in there.
    Heine Kim Stick

  2. #22
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    Echo's pens scratched feverish notes on exposed arm flesh. "This is amazing. Never in my life could I have imagined seeing something this... WOW!" Echo was transfixed by everything happening in the street, and almost didn't notice everyone else leaving. For a brief moment, Echo considered staying to get the rest of the story, but realized that sometimes stories like this are better told later, once everyone has survived. Who would tell people the story if no one had lived to tell it? Echo was sure that either one of the victors would tell this tale later, and some important parts had already happened, like with Fireflash. With more than a little hesitation, Echo headed off after the others, and not without a few glances back to see if there was more of this story to tell.

    OOC
    Running with everyone else!

  3. #23
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    Just then, all up and down the thoroughfare, loose shudders flapped and whapped violently into their buildings and broken window panes, smacking wildly over and over, as if desperately trying to beat their way unhinged and flee. Piercing, blood-curdling screams filled the streets, shrieks that shattered souls like wine glasses. Windows blew apart as the wailing came closer. A chill breeze gusted down the street that carried the despair of thirteen elven maidens of ages past. From over top of buildings came swooping banshees wielding swords of ice, keening in hatred over their fates and riding in bone chariots pulled by wyverns. The banshees flew wildly through the air, swooping down through the thoroughfare, spreading fear and death.

    Sir Darvig, along with Bhatair and Tarsis, trembled from head to toe, and ran faster than before. Echo stood mouth agape, wondering how fun it would be to ride in a bone chariot. Cariannan kept Echo moving. Last to round a corner into an alley to escape the Reaper Army approaching in full force, Cariannan Oafleaf, after making sure Bhatair (who was the slowest) and Echo (who was still curious), had made it safely around the bend, stopped and turned. She took one last glance back down the thoroughfare. The elven paladin had witnessed, and battled, many ghastly sights in the Silvanesti forest during Lorac's Nightmare, but she had seen nothing like this.

    She saw Lord Soth advance on Tanis Half-Elven, his purple cape fluttering. Swords clanged in the street as they clashed, causing the banshees to wail with evil glee. Soth thrust his sword into Tanis’s stomach. Tanis buckled, staggering to one knee. The death knight withdrew his sword. Tanis slumped to the street. Cariannan Oakleaf turned her face away, and moved to catch up with the others when she almost stumbled over Echo instead. Unable to suppress the urge for a last bit to the story, the kender had paused to peak around the corner still, scratching notes feverishly. Having witnessed Tanis’s ignoble death, both turned and ran after the others.

    It was several minutes later*. The five had made it to the north end of the city and regrouped along the side of a large warehouse that sat on a small hill overlooking the docks. There were none of the Blue Lady’s warriors or draconians present at the moment and, all had time for a quick breather as they surveyed the harbor - and to decide what to do next. There were no Solamnic Knights around, Sir Darvig noted with disappointment. Only the few that rode upon bronze dragons out over the bay could he see, wielding their dragonlances as they battled over the bay with black dragons carrying riders of their own.

    The docks were in mayhem. Palanthas had perhaps the largest and busiest harbor in all of Ansalon. Many ships had left yesterday at the first sign of invasion. Some, for one reason or another, had waited until today. Some of those could still be seen out in the bay, embarking on their voyage into Zeboim's Deep, and ultimately to safer lands. An unlucky few, for one reason or another, had become casualties of the fierce dragon battle, floating shattered and adrift in the bay or keeled over, inching their way to complete submersion to sink to the bottom.

    Four ships remained docked in the harbor. The surly crews stood in ranks on deck, cutlasses and knives drawn and crossbows readied. Captains and first mates argued with hundreds of shouting, desperate citizens of Palanathas trying to board and flee the city, while at the same time, trying to get their anchors hastily pulled up to set sail. A lucky few had made it on the ships, crowding them over capacity, but that had happened an hour ago. For those who hadn’t reached the docks in time, it was too late. Angered, the citizens were rioting, throwing whatever they were carrying - apples, hats, knives, tomatoes, expensive shoes - at the boats and their crews.

    Then Cariannan and Darvig both spotted a lone ship, not anchored in at the loading docks, but further out some three hundred feet. They could see a chain still stretching into the water - it was still anchored, for the moment. There was bustling activity on board. A few crewman were standing on deck in a line, pointing into the bay at a swimmer approaching the boat. One of the crewman reached for a rope, and was preparing to throw it out toward him. Cariannan alone noted that no flag waved upon the mast to indicate allegiance or station, but she did catch the title of the boat, painted across its side - The Merchant Monsoon.

    OOC
    Fear saves vs. banshee wails (6 of the 13 get close enough for the party to be in range)
    Darvig: d20+8 (w/ protection from evil)= 20, 18, 14, 17, 21, 28 frightened. must flee, but holds onto what’s he’s holding and to his wits.
    Cariannan: immune to fear
    Bhatair: d20+9= 25, 22, 17, 14, 24, 29 frightened. must flee, but holds onto what he’s holding and to his wits.
    Echo: immune to fear
    Tarsis: d20+5= 15, 15, 11, 12, 9, 8 frightened. must flee, but holds onto what he’s holding and to his wits.
    OUT OF INITAITIVE - POST AT WILL. take a moment here to meet/plan, if you like.
    *fear effects from the banshees have worn off by this time.
    Perception checks (sight-based): Bhatair 18, Cariannan 23, Echo 10, Darvig 20, Tarsis 16.
    Last edited by Bong Bellowsmoke; 08-22-2010 at 02:56 PM.
    The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."

    “I will,” Darvig uttered.

  4. #24
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    "Holy smokes, gang!" Echo exclaimed upon finally being able to find breath after running through the streets of the city. "I can't believe we were so lucky to be able to see all that!" Echo was kicking away any bits of debris to clear a spot on the ground. "I mean, you can stumble upon some interesting things sometimes, and I certainly hoped that I might get lucky, but I bet I couldn't make up something that great!" With a thud, Echo's book was on the ground, and ink stained fingers loosened the harness and blanket that held the book in check. "I gotta write this down before I forget it!" Echo swapped ink colors quickly, not wanting to confuse the arm notes with the story that needed to be written. "I mean, when Fireflash died, just, woah. But then Lord Soth killing Tanis like that?! That's amazing! I mean, it's sad and everything too I guess... I bet he's got a bunch of stories of his own that are pretty great and hopefully someone got them all down, but if Tanis couldn't stand up to Lord Soth," Echo looked up from the giant book at the Solamnic knight, poking the pen at him and flinging a bit of green ink in his direction, "Man, I bet you would not have stood any chance!" Echo went back to the book, occasionally stopping to express amazement.

  5. #25
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    When he realized that he and the others were in relative safety, all things considered, and for the present moment, the recent events caught up with the knight in an overwhelming rush of emotions. He felt numb, lifeless. When the kender informed him that Tanis Half-Elven, Hero of the Lance, had fallen to the vile Lord Soth, he couldn’t contain it any longer. Darvig turned away from the others, dropped to his knees, bowed his head, and sobbed at the loss Krynn had just suffered for loosing such a renown hero. Putting his hands together, he prayed to Paladine.

    “Mighty Paladine, Valiant Warrior, please forgive me for my weaknesses, and grant me your guidance so that I may further your cause in honor,” murmured Darvig, barely audible enough for the others to hear, “Tanis Half-Elven, Hero of the Lance, surrendered his life so that others may live, myself included,” he continued, the last added with as little shame as he could muster, and pausing to recognize the half-elf’s accomplishment himself. “So I ask that You, Mighty Paladine, recognize his selfless act as the ultimate sacrifice and accept Tanis into your kingdom in the afterlife,” he concluded, regaining his composure. He remained quiet and somber for only a few moments longer, not wishing to dwell on things that he could not change.

    “Est Sularas oth Mithas,” he stated, snapping out of his melancholy, then stood to address the others. “I am Darvig Squireson,” he introduced himself, dropping his title for the time being, not feeling worthy of it at the moment. “Thank you, Master Wizard, for your arcane assistance before,” he said sincerely, turning to the White Robe, offering his hand in friendship, and referring to the spell he had cast in the alley when he confronted the Knight of the Black Rose. He knew that there had been some animosity between the Solamnic Knighthood and the Wizards of High Sorcery, but he held no such enmity himself. He viewed the White Robed Wizard as an ally, and a friend.

    Next he turned to the dwarf who had drawn his weapon in preparation to back him up if he had been forced to fight Lord Soth. “Thank you, Master Dwarf, for your bravery, and your wisdom,” he said, again offering his hand in friendship. He allowed his eyes to reflect the respect he felt for him. Then he spoke to the others as a group.

    “We must hurry and find a way out of this city and the ship in the harbor may provide safe passage, but we must first find a way to reach it,” he said, looking to the others for suggestions, hoping one of them had a solution. “Look around nearby, maybe there is a raft or something to carry us there.” He knew that they could try and swim, but he didn’t want to suggest that until they had exhausted all other options. It would be difficult for he and the heavily armored dwarf to make such a swim with all of the crafted steel on their persons. He also didn’t think the dwarf would be willing to part with his armor to make the swim, nor did he wish to do so either. There had to be another way.

    OOC
    Perception to scan and search the area nearby for a raft, rowboat, or something similar.
    Perception: d20 + 1 = 9
    Roll Better! Miss Less!

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  6. #26
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    As a dwarf, Bhatair was not built for sprints through a wartorn metropolis with all the dangers and hazards that included. As the group reached the warehouse, the dwarven noble was wheezing and panting, fighting a desperate battle to get his breath back, to cool down his burning lungs, both hands on his knees.

    Quote Originally Posted by Sir Darvig
    “Thank you, Master Dwarf, for your bravery, and your wisdom,” he said, again offering his hand in friendship. He allowed his eyes to reflect the respect he felt for him.
    Bhatair grabbed the knight's arm and shook it once. "The name's *wheeze* Bhatair Splitstone and I'm the one who should be thankful, lad. If ye hadn't *wheeze* made the only right decision ye could make, I'd have *wheeze* died down there alongside ye, possibly screamin' like a wee lass. Those chariot-riding hags had me blood freezin'. *wheeze*"

    Quote Originally Posted by Sir Darvig
    “Look around nearby, maybe there is a raft or something to carry us there.”
    "Ship? Raft...?" During their desperate flight from Lord Soth and his terrifying minions, Bhatair had imagined how pale he must've looked, all color drained from his face by the terror screaming in his mind. The knight's words did the job, draining all blood from the dwarf's face. He had been kidding about the screaming like a little girl part, hoping it might put a smile on someone's face. But now he realized he just might be screaming like a little girl before dawn came. Bhatair's legs collapsed under him and he sat down on the ground beside the kender.

    "Did he say 'ship'?"
    Heine Kim Stick

  7. #27
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    Cariannan bowed her head in respect as the knight prayed. "May it be done, Eli," she murmured softly as the man rose and introduced himself.

    She was just about to suggest finding a rowboat or raft herself, seeing as the unmarked ship (probably a pirate or privateer vessel) was really their only option for a safe and swift exit from Palanthas. The elf fought to repress a smug grin at the dwarf plopped down next to the kender, white as a sheet at the mere mention of sailing.

    "Yes, a ship master dwarf," Cariannan stated matter-of-factly. "You are quite correct, Sir Squireson. We must find a way to yon ship before it weighs anchor."

    "Kenderkin," the paladin said crisply to get her (or was it his?) attention, "Do you wish to stay or come with us? I would suggest the latter, as the Blue Lady is likely to be less that tolerant to your kind."

    That being said, the elf maid began scanning the harbor for a means of getting to the ship in the bay.

    OOC:
    perception check
    d20(3)+5= 8
    waaaahhhh!
    Last edited by Pharathyse; 08-22-2010 at 02:25 PM.
    "Argent and Rukin would fight over a goblin turd if they thought it was important to the other one." ~ Tauren Kai-Jere, Chatzy, 10/6/11

  8. #28
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    Sir Darvig and Cariannan could only see the shoreline for a short distance beyond the end of the harbor, where a few docks lie shattered. A copse of trees blocked further view of the shoreline, though it looked as if the shoreline extending east of the harbor was reachable through a trek through the trees. From the side of the warehouse where the party now took cover, it would require a risky jaunt out across the open to reach the cover of the trees.

    Suddenly a wave a fear swept over the group. An immense blue dragon soared over low, its tail nearly smashing in the roof of the warehouse as it passed over. Wind gusted from the beating of its wings, blowing hair and stinging the eyes with dust. Darvig and Bhatair felt their hearts in their throats. The dragon's rider was looking down through the streets and alleys, scanning for resistance. Tarsis quickly threw his back up against the warehouse wall, hoping to avoid being seen. Echo, Cariannan, and Darvig followed. Bhatair, sitting on his bottom end, failed to even reach his feet until the dragon had already passed.

    The dragon had went by but, looking out, all could see it was making a wide circle, perhaps coming back around for another pass. Bhatair had been spotted.

    OOC
    saves vs. dragonfear
    darvig d20+6= 17, fails. shaken
    cariannan immune.
    bhatair d20+9= 16, fails. shaken
    echo immune
    tarsis d20+5= 25, success.

    stealth checks
    echo d20+7= 12.
    cariannan d20+4= 12.
    darvig d20-1= 12.
    bhatair d20-2= 0.
    tarsis d20+2= 20.
    Last edited by Bong Bellowsmoke; 08-22-2010 at 04:21 PM.
    The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."

    “I will,” Darvig uttered.

  9. #29
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    Default Sir Virgil

    Sir Virgil swam steadily through the choppy waters of the bay, as dragons battled, bled, and died above, crashing into the sea around him. The fallen dragon rider was well-trained to stay calm, and did so, even when he spotted the dorsal fin of a shark break the surface just off to his left. The boat was getting closer, slowly. The shark fin descended as quickly as it had appeared, slowly slipping away into the unknown. Most likely under him. Virgil kept his mind on his task.

    At last Virgil was near the boat. Mariners tossed him a rope ladder, and the barely winded swimmer grabbed hold, climbing the rope surely and steadily until he sloshed onto the deck of the Merchant Monsoon, and stood up, drenched to the bone with sea water running off of him. A fish was hopelessly caught in the crux of his armor near the armpit. Nothing stuck out but its tail, wiggling and flapping at everyone in little bursts of futile struggle.

    Virgil faced a motley assemblage of mariners around him, cutlasses and belaying pins in hand and greasy eyes fixed in appraisal. Others were busy with tasks to set the ship asail. Virgil saw a massive black-furred minotaur on deck, its muscled arms bulging as it heaved to wind the mechanism reeling in the thick chain of the anchor.

    One of the mariners stuck out from the rest, stepping up. He was an obvious ne’er-do-well but comparatively well-dressed, with a maroon-tanned vest of some finely-crafted leather hanging on his athletic frame. His most striking feature was the wild hair he sported, that seemed to pile high and curl in a giant wave. His skin was weathered and his gaze was strong as steel. Of the mariners around that still had two eyes, they kept one eye on him and the other on Virgil.

    “Congratulations,” the man said, pausing to give Virgil a chance to collect himself. “For not being shark meat, that is. No ordinary man could survive a fall like that, and have the strength to swim past those sharks to boot,” the man conversationally, grinning. Then he gave a nod of respect. “Must’ve been trained by the Blue Lady herself.” Some of the mariners chuckled, one of the chucklers digressing to a hacking cough. “So it looks like your stuck with us. What’s your name, dragon rider? You can call me Cap’n Monsoon. Hope ya got your sea legs. We’re headed out.”
    Last edited by Bong Bellowsmoke; 08-23-2010 at 12:38 AM.
    The Red Condor shrieked at Sir Darvig in full wrath. Wings flapped storms of fire across the sky. "The Mage-God grows in power swifter than it appears to Paladine. This I know. A warning," Sargonnas told Darvigl, "for you to give to Paladine in your prayers."

    “I will,” Darvig uttered.

  10. #30
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    Cariannan leaned out just enough to see past the eves of the warehouse. What she saw pleased her not at all. The massive blue was turning fore another pass, its huge, leathery wings making an almost audible creak as it flapped and wheeled around in the sky.

    It didn't take long for the elf maid to spot the blue's target.

    "Trust a dwarf to be trouble," she said commented acidly.

    "Run!" Cariannan ordered. "The blue knows we're here! Run for the trees! RUN OR DIE I SAY!!" she bellowed at the shivering dwarf, hoping to penetrate the fear.

    She gave the knight a slight shove on the shoulder to get him moving as she passed, running all-out for the trees.

    OOC:
    Cari is making a break for it (Run x's 4)
    "Argent and Rukin would fight over a goblin turd if they thought it was important to the other one." ~ Tauren Kai-Jere, Chatzy, 10/6/11

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