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  #811  
Old 03-07-2019, 01:24 AM
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Last edited by PIG; 03-07-2019 at 01:25 AM.
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Old 03-07-2019, 01:24 AM
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Last edited by PIG; 03-08-2019 at 01:09 AM.
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Old 03-08-2019, 11:47 PM
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Drusilla Vanadici
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Swimming through a sea of putrid, dissolving body parts is surely the most disgusting and revolting thing that Drusilla has ever endured ... but it is not the worst. Not when compared to ... She grits her teeth at the memory, but its horror gives her strength—she would gladly swim through a mile of entrails and pus and gore instead of suffering through that ineffably painful day in her past. Coaxed by the firelight suffusing through the dead she pushes on and surfaces, just for a second, enough time to gulp a deep breath of much needed air and glance around.

One second is an eternity.

~ ~ ~

In a past life on another continent, Drusilla has just joined the ruin wardensrundottari, a lowly first step on her path to become a hellknight like her oldest brother. She has visited the Dead Sector of Westcrown twice before, both times against her parents' wishes. Now she has their (admittedly grudging) blessings as her squad cautiously patrols the walls of official name of the Dead SectorRego Cader.

“MOVE!!”

Lieutenant Draxus brusquely shoves her out of the way, just in the nick of time as a huge slab of stone crashes down from the crumbling wall. While Drusilla is still lying on the ground, dazed and wondering what happened, Draxus has already drawn his weapon. “Swords!” he barks to the rest of his squad, who immediately comply and form a circle of menacing blades.

“What ... who's attacking?” Drusilla asks, still somewhat confused but drawing her longsword as she begins to understand, even if she can't see the threat.

“Have you no eyes?” the lieutenant barks roughly. “Archer hiding behind the gargoyle, two scum disguised as merchants, strongman who pushed the rock,” he rattles off their enemies quickly and in a loud voice, to make it clear that the ambush won't work, adding a layer of unbridled disdain as he concludes, “and an invisible idiot who thinks he can't leave footprints in the mud.” After a tense moment, the supposed merchants run away, intimidated, followed by a trail of muddy footprints.

“Up.” Draxus commands without offering her a hand. “If you're going to be of any use, you have to notice your surroundings. Shouldn't take more than a second to see everything that's going on. More than that, and you're dead. Understand?”

Drusilla nods, her face grim and determined. “Understood.”

~ ~ ~

In one second, Drusilla sees everything.

As soon as she notices the Carrion King's gaze she slowly submerges back into the dead sea, not too fast to draw more attention to herself—she is just another disembodied head sinking into a pool of shifting bodies. Once under, she covers her mouth with both hands, making a temporary space as she warns the others with I didn't reduce the text size, but everything is whisperedquiet whispers.

“King forward, With 1 rank in Survival, Dru automatically knows which way North pointseast.” She pauses for a moment, letting the others orient their mental maps to show east pointing straight ahead. For herself, the orientation takes no time at all—with all of her experience patrolling city ruins and desert wilds, the compass directions have been fixed in her mind for a long time.

“Five elves chained to his throne. All surrounded by dead, about thirty feet wide. Floor ten feet above and surrounding dead, northern access to King. Caster south of dead. Five guards north.” She does not mention the human peculiarity of one of the guards—no point distracting Dullen from their mission.

“Room south. Two doors southwest.” She almost doesn't add these, but decides it's useful to know from which direction reinforcements might come.

 
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Last edited by ekidnu; 03-10-2019 at 04:23 PM. Reason: mention elven prisoners
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  #814  
Old 03-09-2019, 02:21 PM
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Fandrik, Druid Rider
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The horror of all the bodies was surreal to our spunky little halfling. So much so that he had felt detached, removed from it all somehow. The smell had assaulted his body long before the sight making the bile in his stomach react more to the acidic vileness penetrating his nose and mouth more than the psychological impact of the dead as they were. At least, he had been detached.

Hector's black magic pulled at Fandrik's soul, snapping him into the reality of the moment. Horror painted his face before it was replaced by shock. As was his nature, the halfling needed to act to think. They were called to move and so he had taken the rope and jumped to the transformed druid's back where he clung tight. He squeezed with his small muscles to stop the shaking in his limbs as his soul righted itself. Hector was a dark, ominous man. He had always known it, and knew that he had access to some form of magic but Fandrik had refused to believe it was anything innately evil. Now he saw Hector with new eyes.

Scraping and pounding into the wall of dead he felt each soft bone break in the bodies, each sack of decomposed organs burst and each wiggle of a maggot that crawled into his clothes. They were swimming in a vast universe of bloated corpses, of lost dreams and torn souls. In his heart, Fandrik was a good person. He tried to help more than hurt and he found the humor in everything he could since it gave him courage to not become bogged down in the cesspool of lower society's morals. Humor, laughter was his tool.

As Drusilla's words bubbled through the gelatinous bodies, Fan felt something change inside. Something stretched, near to snapping. It was like an acceptance of the situation, one in which he really couldn't grasp that it was happening - and so it became ridiculous. And funny. He would have burst out laughing if a rotten thigh hadn't mashed into his face when he lifted it from the druid's neck. The very realization that the situation was funny frightened him, which was also a bit funny in an ironic way.

Violently shaking the limb from his head, the halfling prayed to Desna for strength, for courage. Instantly he beheld the comfort like a glowing butterfly warming the hand is fluttered within. Now they could face this Carrion King.

"I sail on the seas. Don't swim in it." Fandrik whispered in Grak's pointed ear. "Am with you until we find dry land - or dry bodies! Heh heh-heh."

 

 

 
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Last edited by Jarl11; 03-09-2019 at 02:25 PM.
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  #815  
Old 03-09-2019, 11:03 PM
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Gark
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Grak was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Or more accurately, a deadly centipede swarm and a disguising sea of death and decay. Fortunately for the goblin chosen of Lamashtu, the only death that truly bothered him was his own.

Grabbing onto the rope, the goblin leaps into the mass of bodies, not even trying to climb through it. Instead he tries to swim, his legs played out in a gross paradox of a massive frog.

 


OOC

 

 
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Old 03-10-2019, 01:20 AM
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Drusilla Vanadici
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A dozen scenarios flash by in Drusilla's mind, each analyzed in an instant before either being dismissed outright or tweaked into another option. Throughout them all there is a constant recurring thread: what do they do about the witch? Though her final conclusion seems sound, in the back of her mind she wonders if there might be a personal element of revenge influencing her thoughts? She shakes away the nagging suspicion. First and foremost, they need to prevent the witch from casting any spells—the answer to this problem is easy, given the party's planning session earlier this morning. In conjunction, they need to lock down and kill the witch as quickly as possible—and after reviewing all the candidates, the best person for this job is still her. Once again they will face off against each other—it is as if their fates are intertwined. But this time, she won't make the mistake of facing the witch alone.

“Gark, you and I have the caster. Rok too. Everyone else on the King. Stealth if you can; signal when you break cover.” The warrior knows that, with so many strong-willed and different-minded people in the group, unable to see each other through the sea of corpses, coordinating an exact time to attack will be difficult—the simplest solution is to coordinate their attack with whoever reveals himself first.

“Dullen, Fan: Silence the witch.” She frowns—something else is bothering her. Suddenly she realizes what she is missing: the tremors which she had initially dismissed as yet another earthquake under Pale mountain; the way the sea of corpses circle protectively around the Carrion King; fantastic tales of shark-filled moats ... “Move!” she hisses, hoping that she is wrong. With that the fighter begins Plan is for Dru to swim to r39. If possible, Take 10 on Swim for 16. If a roll is needed ...
Dice Swim (includes Sickened effect):
1d20+6 (15)+6 Total = 21
pushing her way through the bodies towards her target.

 
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  #817  
Old 03-10-2019, 10:43 AM
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A gnoll’s joy
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There were few things things that would have enraged Grak’Ark, Fandrick leaping onto his back as if he were a common mule. Drusilla barking out orders as if he was her servant, Those irritations fled vanished when he learned that he had reached the Carrion King.

When Drusilla calls out for him to go after the Carrion King, Grak’Ark’s canine face contorts Into disgusting parody of a smile. As if I would do anything else.

He ignores the weight on his back as he moves towards the Carrion King, casting several spells as he moves, each on intended to give him a step up against the beast he knew he must kill. His was a battle plan he had thought about for some time and one he felt he could implement quickly.

He pauses to think about why a creature like the Carrion King would have elven slaves around him. It was a strange concept, for Rovagug carespd for only death and destruction and he knew there was a reason the powerful gnoll had flanked himself with such undesirables.

 


 
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Old 03-10-2019, 11:22 AM
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Start Ro1

--------Character--------Init010203
Fandrik17o--
Gark-the-Goblin16o--
Dullen14o--
Drusilla14o--
Grak'ark14o--
Hector13o--
Abd al Bari12o--
Rraelliarh16---
The Carrion King10---
Thkot-Tal08---
Carrion Guards07---
Carrion Initiates05---
Elven Slaves05---
o = open to post
- = don't post yet
x = posted already

DM Summary
left-aligned image

House of the Beast: Day 2
Gozran 13 4710 – Moonday

Sunrise 6:30AM | 8:00PM Sunset
(07:09AM)

Light Bearers
Dullen, Holy Symbol (20' normal / 40' shadows)
Abd, Fandrik's Stone (20' normal / 40' shadows)

Darkvision
Grak'ark (60')
Remkah'ar (60')
Fandrik (60')
Gark-the-Goblin (60')




House of the Beast: The Lower Temple
[DiCE]
Drusilla

Room 14: Hall of Rot

The rope, covered in dust from the mines, slithers hard into the pool of dead, the coil unwinding before the large rock it's tied to at the other end. Swarms of centipedes, angry, try and collect after Dullen but another wash of water pushes them away

Dullen watches as Gark uses the rope to climb up the dead pile but fails, slipping around. He inhales deeply, feeling his little green chest to the fullest, and instead uses the rope to swim and lead him to his Holy Leader like a tether through a heaven of rot. In he goes, feet kicking as the little goblinoid vanishes below the cleric-monk.

All that's left is Dullen keeping the swarm at bay and the little elemental of air floating, staring at the human with hateful white eyes. Then in a whirl the air-ghost is gone, duration-enslavement over.

The earth rattles again and earth falls down. Bits of rock bounce off his floating ice armor, making bits of it dirty. What of the Mind of Irori was that?




Room 2: The Maggot Throne


left-aligned image
Drusilla coordinates the plans, something slick flowing past her cheek and forcing her to close her eye so that it is not blinded by acidic bile. Her voice quivers only a bit. She's made of steel, horrors of her past we don't even know about had shaped the fighter in ways that has made her survive Katapesh thus far, up until now. Let us see her survive the House of the Beast now. Her mind is on the Witch and she begins to move in that direction. Grak'ark hears the word of where the King is and becomes a happy dog and begins to wade in that direction.

But then that slithering mass suddenly moves away from Drusilla's face like a parchment blown in the wind. All of the gunk is moving from her and it feels like sticking a finger in festering wound- fast and tight. She knows that something is coming and she's ready, sharks in a moat (myths dare say?) comes to mind. Fandrik clenches his small fingers on the dog as Grak begins to wade east, the rope pulling. Hector and Abd's hands probe the stone ceiling of the tunnel as they all try and find their way out and into combat.

Enormous forcipules shove right into Drusilla face and she was ready but surprised by the size of these insect gaping mouth trying to swallow her whole. She reaches out behind her and grabs a pelvic bone of an ox and the animal's strong bones are solid enough for her to yank back before the great mouth snatches her life. It's shocking how fast this great beast got so close (Stealth Rolled 19) but it's great size betrayed it's presence (Perception Rolled 27).

Many of you had actions planned but this interrupts it. You can still do them, but now it has to be done in combat rounds now that you have been engaged.




DM Notes
left-aligned image


  • Drusilla, Hector, and Fandrik are all sickened


  • Corpses:
    - Depth is 10 feet.
    - Swim (DC15, full or move action) check required to wade through the dead.
    - PCs require a move action to reach the surface.
    - Climb (DC15, move action) is need to climb the wall out of the surface of the dead. The wall is 10'.
    - Moving normally on top of the dead is considered rough terrain.


  • Swarm: Centipedes. Automatic damage and poison chance. Dullen is currently keeping them from coming back into a swarm. Once joined into a swarm all he can do is prevent their approach in a certain direction.



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Old 03-10-2019, 11:22 AM
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Old 03-10-2019, 11:22 AM
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Old 03-10-2019, 11:23 AM
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Old 03-10-2019, 03:52 PM
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Hector Grimm, Abd and Rok

Dark tunnels, elementals that produced wild and untamed buffets of wind and worms too big to swallow was getting the better of the black raven. When it turned out that Hector and his tattooed companion once again got stuck in the goop, Rok abandoned his post and moved out of the tunnel and into wider spaces. He flew up, up and up. Getting a view of the place and the inhabitants.

There was precious targets on the ground beneath him and he would wish for his new master to put some haste on the effort and lock these souls up before they vanished. Rok acknowledged the presence of the lithe and fragile looking elves on the ground. When he was with his former master - the tiefling, Nadia Pelone - he had witnessed elves and their prolonged life. If Rok had the ability to draw such parallels he would have been able to see the likeness of elves and well-hung, aged ox meat. What he felt instead was that these poor creatures would soon see and end to their lives and if Hector did not come out and lock their souls in place, Rok wouldn’t get to feed on them...

Rok suppressed the urge to croak out his frustration and instead focused on getting higher.

Meanwhile, both Hector and Abd tried to swim through the sea of dead people. Abd’s climb over the dead had been fruitless. He had hit a tunnel and needed to paddle his way through the dead. It was not a success.


 


 


 



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Old 03-11-2019, 11:21 PM
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Drusilla Vanadici
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Even as a child, Drusilla had always scoffed at her older brother's tall tales of castles defended by a shark-infested moat. What would salt-water fish be doing in a fresh—no stagnant—water moat? How would they survive? How would they be carried over the Plains of Dust up to this hilltop castle? At least try to be plausible, she would demand. Crocodiles or piranha she could believe for a fortress near some watery body. But sharks? Really?

Now here in the Brazen Peaks, myth transcends reality. Some truly enormous monster patrols a moat of the dead. With reflexes honed by years of training and combat, Drusilla pulls away just in time. “Giant monster hiding in the dead,” she hisses with an urgency that is seldom heard. “Up and out. Now!” she warns the others as she takes her own advice, back paddling up and away from the monstrous beast. Encumbered and blinded by the dead, there is no nothing to be gained by fighting this colossal creature—even if they could defeat it, they would simply be wasting strength better reserved for the Carrion King.

The warrior gulps a grateful lung of air as she surfaces from a sea of dismembered bodies, then quickly pushes down on a large humanoid torso to extract the lower half of her body. Once free, her fingers instantly claw at the rough stone walls surrounding the moat, using her strength to pull herself up onto the walkway.

There she slowly stands, like one triumphant corpse returning from an ocean of the dead: her hair is matted and slick with putrid gore; some slimy bodily fluid oozes down her face; a long stringy entrail dangles from one ear; a disembodied arm is caught by the crook of its elbow on her bardiche; and bits of brain are splattered all over her studded leather armor. But her cold grey eyes remain as implacable and determined as an Inevitable from the plane of Axis. As she lets fall one end of the rope in her hand, those steely eyes glance at the Carrion King, then swivel towards the witch.

Yesterday she should have been dead at the witch's hands. But death cannot stop her. She is called Lady Death, and today she is back from the dead.

 


 
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  #824  
Old 03-12-2019, 11:18 AM
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Prior to Round 1 : (Thank you, Pig)

Dullen sees now that there is no way around entering the pool. He notes something strange about the water. Bending down he touches it and it is viscous, almost gel like consistently. He sees that he would struggle to get through this without the gifts of Irori. He uncurls the rope at this waist and speaks the command word. The Rope of climbingrope wraps around his waist.

“Irori, thy Bull’s Strengthstrength is needed to get through this pool of the dead.”. Dullen’s prayer is answered as the minuscule fraction of Irori’s might enters his body as he now has the strength to carry on. His muscles ripple with strength and he looks upon the upcoming swim with renewed vigor.

_______________________________

Round 1:

Prior to jumping in, he sees that Hector and Abd seem to have trouble in navigating through, which is good that he has the rope around his waist. Dullen’s hand glows white as he utilizes another of Irori’s gifts. “With Irori, Touch of Laworder comes.”. He takes a deep breath and plunges into the pool. He navigates the gel like water with no Swim check 15- Touch of Law 11 + 4 Strengthissue. As he passes by Hector and Abd, he points to the rope behind him. Hopefully they get the hint and being illuminated should help. He knows even if he has to tow both of them, he will be fine because of Tahir’s Muleback Cordsgift from before.

He l30, l31, k32swims out of the tunnel and close to the wall and should be out soon. His mind floats back to the river Styx and as the bodies resemble the souls of the damned that tried to claim his life.

Dullen knew the movement underneath him was not a good sign and now knows some sort of monstrous creature is in the waters. He needs to get out of the pool and help his comrades out as well. Irori certainly has made things interesting. Now Dullen only has to face the challenges ahead or he may be with Irori sooner than he thought.

 


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Last edited by ShinobiMaster123; 03-12-2019 at 02:58 PM.
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Old 03-13-2019, 04:32 AM
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Start Ro1

--------Character--------Init010203
Fandrik17x--
Gark-the-Goblin16x--
Dullen14x--
Drusilla14x--
Grak'ark14x--
Hector13x--
Abd al Bari12x--
Rraelliarh16o--
The Carrion King10o--
Thkot-Tal08o--
Carrion Guards07o--
Carrion Initiates05o--
Elven Slaves05o--
o = open to post
- = don't post yet
x = posted already

DM Summary
left-aligned image

House of the Beast: Day 2
Gozran 13 4710 – Moonday

Sunrise 6:30AM | 8:00PM Sunset
(07:09AM)

Light Bearers
Dullen, Holy Symbol (20' normal / 40' shadows)
Abd, Fandrik's Stone (20' normal / 40' shadows)

Darkvision
Grak'ark (60')
Remkah'ar (60')
Fandrik (60')
Gark-the-Goblin (60')




House of the Beast: The Lower Temple
[DiCE]


Drusilla Dungeoneering Knowledge Check (DC-): Rolled 12
Drusilla Climb Check: Rolled 15
Grak'ark Swim Check (DC15): Rolled 13
Hector Swim Check (DC15): Rolled 12
Hector Swim Check (DC15): Rolled 8
Fandrik Aid Another (DC10): Rolled 2
Abd Swim Check (DC15): Rolled 12
Abd Swim Check (DC15): Rolled 9
Rok Swim Check (DC10): Rolled 10

Room 2: The Maggot Throne


It's as if Lamashtu gave birth. Drusilla, hair slick with slime and a chopped arm in the nook of her elbow, she is given to the world of the Maggot Throne as she wrenches her self free from the maggot squirming mass of the dead. Torch light greets her and she instantly beings climbing the wall of the pool. A glance over her shoulder shows one of her targets.

The Carrion King, a massive and violent looking gnoll, yanks the hair of the fair maiden before him to block the pathway between the two. A nice flesh wall to block any attack. Drusilla reaches up and finds the sculptured tentacle of a squid to pull her self higher. Her other hand finds the penis of an erect devil and she pulls her self higher. Slime and death drips off of Drusilla as she rolls onto the walkway and stands up, brown and green in sight.

Amongst this a raven shoots into the air and rises above the fray, slick dead falling from it's feathers. It begins to circle the room in swoop.

Drusilla looks around and sees more now. The Witch has moved away to the south, calling for reinforcements. Columns to the south hide hidden gnolls, more to come it seems. She casts her grey eyes to the evil to dispose all around her.

right-aligned image


Out plucks others.

A dog harnessed by a halfling is next to come out of the dead. Token FGrak'ark rattles his fur and maggots plus innards slash the surroundings and Token FFandrik braces his neck, clean no more. The halfling's mustache is squeezed to his face like a drawing charbroiled to his cheeks. "Ha- euuuuuuuuu...ha... HaHA!" chokes the halfling, looking around. Token GA goblin is quick to follow, pointed ears clinging to gunk like arrows through meat, as the dog draws his self on top of the torso of a troglodyte.

Hector and Abd tries to follow as they are still in the sea of the dead, like the memory of Dullen, the River of Styx. Hector, in his anger, sees a great bulge in his way and tears his old fingers into the flesh blocking the way. He doesn't realize but he opening the stomach of Lazrul and it's contents pours both over Hector and Abd. Lizards, bones, and bile pour over them as they try and progress past Lazrul's rotted corpse collected by the Carrion Tribe.

Poor, poor, Lazrul pouring over Hector but the old man does not give up. The rot slides by and Hector does not let this stop the both of them.

Dullen passes both of them, swimming, and rises past the dead. The symbol of Irori glows brightly in the darkness.

left-aligned image
"Dullen!!!" The monk jerks his head, hearing kelish but not recognizing the voice, and looks past the Maggot Throne to Token 11the only human to be seen among the King. There stands his Trevis, leering at him. And, oh, what the state he is in. It takes Dullen seconds to even recognize him. His face has been contorted into a mask of horror. His muscles bulge in impossible masses that have never matched his narrow frame from before. Pins, shafts, rings, spikes, braces, metal, chains and any combination of either/or just mentioned- they all decorate as much of his body as possible. But nothing can compare to that permanent grin torn into his face, scars running up his cheeks and chest. What horrible surgery is this? "Brother!!!" cries the only man of the enemy. "I expected this to be, it was told. Irori is false." He slowly slides his sword out, dead piles before him and a gnoll to either side, behind. "I will show you thus. Our father was right."

right-aligned image






DM Notes
left-aligned image


  • Drusilla, Hector, and Fandrik are all sickened
    The character takes a –2 penalty on all attack rolls, weapon damage rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks.


  • Corpses:
    - Depth is 10 feet.
    - Swim (DC15, full or move action) check required to wade through the dead.
    - PCs require a move action to reach the surface.
    - Climb (DC15, move action) is need to climb the wall out of the surface of the dead. The wall is 10'.
    - Moving normally on top of the dead is considered rough terrain.


  • Darkness:
    In an area of dim light, a character can see somewhat. Creatures within this area have concealment (20% miss chance in combat) from those without darkvision or the ability to see in darkness.



Combat Modifiers
 

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