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  #151  
Old 08-17-2018, 04:42 PM
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Finally the clog in the hallway is cleared thanks to the man with the hat, and not a moment too soon judging by the yelling and screaming coming from the room beyond. As the other nobles begin to spill into the room Xan'cha moves up as well, taking up a position behind Taevar so she can see what's going on. It seems that Olesia and Sayyida are handling themselves without much problem, though Pacho and Taevar not so much. Though the former may be out of reach for now, the same can't be said for the man with the hat. "Huetepoli patiz," she intones in her native tongue, placing her hand on Taevar's back. Emerald green energy coils around her arm like a snake before it strikes, but rather than pain and venom Taevar is met with renewing, life-giving energy. With the magic discharged Ixtala, the priestess' reptilian spirit companion, follows the energy and hops onto Taevar's shoulder, perching there defensively.

 

 


Last edited by PalladiaMors; 08-17-2018 at 04:42 PM.
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  #152  
Old 08-17-2018, 06:37 PM
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Korag Bolin
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Stepping nimbly past Tatsuo and into the doorway, Korag aimed his crossbow at the cleric. Not much use playing with these pirates if that one just heals everything we do. It was difficult to get a clear shot in the crowded room, but the experienced crossbowman was able toDeed: Shooter's Resolve, spend 1 grit point to ignore cover ignore the obstacles and drill a bolt straight in at the spellcaster. It flew true and struck it’s target for devastating effect. The dwarven prince yelled out a war cry as he loaded yet another bolt.


 



 
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  #153  
Old 08-17-2018, 09:19 PM
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Date 3th of Azaëlle, 7453 (Winter)
Time Evening
Weather Outside Snowing, -21 C.
Inside Normal Light, 4 C.

Raven's Den Cells - Round 3A bolt strike the cleric deeply in the belly. Holy's symbol in the shape of a wave in hand he jump 5 foot stepdown in the stair, the old man chant divine words. - " By the holy wrath of mother sea, we shall not yield! We are the forsaken of the infinite ocean, have mercy on us. " Another wave of holy magic close wounds and fix broken bones. The skull of the man that Pacho smashed close up and hide his brain, the guy open an eye with a grunt, living a near-death experience twice in such a small amount of time. - " What? Ah... Again? " Like a deja-vu experience, Merc 3he swings his sword again at Pacho and slash his left knee. - " We are... the... brothers of the sea... you nobles scum can kill us... more... will come to get you... " The man who got bull rush against his table goes with the flow of his comrades and stab deeply Taevar in the belly, critical hit!twisting his blade inside his guts and pull it out. - " ... You step on us like maggots, feeding on our poor children like dogs, this end now. Vive la rebellion! " The last pirate stormed Olesia with his falchion, almost severing her head in one shot, slashing her from neck to breast with the tip of his blade. - " Die, filthy priestess, you zealot are done to brainwash us! I'm going to piss on your corpse! "

Together they sing while fighting with incredible resilience as the battle reach it's climax, with an uncertain outcome.

Yo, Ho haul together, hoist the colours high
Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die
The bell has been raised from its watery grave
Do you hear its sepulchral tone?
A Call to all, pay heed to the squall
And turn your sail towards home!




 

 

 
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Last edited by MoonZar; 08-17-2018 at 09:22 PM.
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  #154  
Old 08-17-2018, 10:41 PM
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There are times when one can't do what they want and are forced to do the necessary.

Sayyida hears her cousin's voice and looks back to find her amidst the fighting. She is there standing next to the man called Taevar, far too forward for her delicate skin, the fire sparkling in the turns of her dark hair. Frowning, Sayyida resists the urge to go to her. She can't describe why she wants to or why Rana would hold her against rational action. The woman was no different than the countless nobles who barred her way to legitimacy, who ridiculed her family, and dismissed her person. Yet, she is there, in danger, like some southern princess stolen by these northern pirates as a prize bride to bear children for some fat three toothed northern lord. And Sayyida, against all that she is, wants to stand by her side and keep her safe.

The cleric slips away again and Sayyida tears her eyes from her cousin's shining face. A bad feeling begins burbling in her gut but she had no tells to look for or to find her way. No movement of water to place her sails. No smell of land to let her know that the journey was about finished. Rana's voice echoes in her ears.

I am sick and tired of these northern cells.....

She looks down into the blank open eyes of the northern man she killed moments ago. In those glassy dark eyes, she imagines she sees herself; tall, wearing armor three sizes too large, and with a bloody blade, hair wet and lank, plastered to her face. Releasing herself, she does only what she can and follows the Cleric. Jumping down after him, she looses sight of her cousin.

Move back woman, she says to herself as if trying to breech the distance between them and make Rana seek a more protected space. Move back.

Striking at the cleric again, she misses. She does not curse this time. This is not luck lost or chance. This is the wind and currents of the water; capricious and untamable, prone to sudden fluctuations and upheavels. Looking back down the stairs, she sees two other northern pirates still unaware of the battle above them. Her position is poor. Her chances small. But there is little to do but batten down the lines and ride it out.

"Two more," she yells to Pacho. "Close up," she adds, trying to get him to position the others into a better defense.

Sayyida settles her feet. A brief thought enters her mind that she may not make it out of this one. Alone, in front, she was on a precarious line and the tide had shifted against her. Gritting her teeth, she thought she just had to last a while longer. Long enough for her cousin to taste fresh air even if she herself didn't make it out.


OOC
Move : Chasin a Cleric, moved Below Cleric on the Stairs
Standard : Attack Cleric Miss. (Really?!! A 2,4,2 on three of four rolls. Son of a mother in law.)
Swift :
Free : Give Pacho Details of below; Parry and riposte DMG 30/14/10


 
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Last edited by GeneT; 08-17-2018 at 11:22 PM.
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  #155  
Old 08-17-2018, 11:33 PM
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RanaWith a single hit in Rana was a bit more spirited on her resumed fencing prowess, then her combat partner got stabbed in the gut. She, being proud of her heritage decided not to curse and use Al-zuna's name in vain. It was quite hard if she could say so herself.

Feeling the momentum after her single acid-blade vanished, she focused her magic power to draw energy in both hands. One however lacked the energy to pierce through the likes of leather and served better purpose as a blunt force. With her offhand she kept his blade in check, feinting that her swords were solid once more, before tricking him with a cut through his defenses.

Rana takes a moment after getting in a victorious blow to gaze around the battlefield, she takes a moment to bite her lip as her cousin chases a cleric upstairs, how the man managed to get past the melee at the bottom was beyond her. She looks nearer to the man that seems to be cheerful after landing a stab upon a pirate. She summons forth what gentle tones she could that overpowers the sound of clashing steel, "René...was it...? Can you get up behind the man, distract him so Taevar and I might have an easier time finishing him off."

 

 

Last edited by MoonZar; 08-18-2018 at 12:54 AM. Reason: formatting
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  #156  
Old 08-17-2018, 11:53 PM
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Olesia: The Feral Lady
left-aligned image
Pacho…there was something about that brief connection they shared, his gaze alight with an impish gleam. Yes, he was the scruffy son of the notorious Armando Corello. Yes, he fell in lock step with Xydanyel’s nobles, simply known as the Bastard’s Shadow at Court, willing to do anything to please. He affiliated with the most unsavory types. Likely, he had committed countless unsavory deeds…Why, he had even tempted Olesia to betray her vows to the goddess; but, there was hope in Olesia’s heart of hearts, that perhaps even a shady character like himself could change his ways and embrace the sliver of Light that surely lays dormant within his precious soul.

“ERYKA SODOMIZING A DOG!!!”

Such blasphemy had never once graced the paladin’s ears, so rocked and disturbed, as Pacho’s words were both graphic and nonsensical. Her sheltered brain could not register this, nor react with quickened reflexes as the kiss of a steel Falchion swooped in and landed home….

There’s a saying among the warriors of Patrenya. One marked for Death swings twice as fast, and thrice as hard. Clearly, with wild eyes and a twisted snarl, the bolted pirate (surprisingly spry) had nothing to lose—most Fel-bent on take Olesia down with him.

Olesia gasped, feeling the burning hot trail of the falchion’s path, biting through her throat and ripping through armor down to her very breastbone. She staggered hard into the corner…not the best place to be wedged, if you think about it. Her hand clutched the ghastly wound, choking on warm blood.

This felt like recompense. Raw atonement. She should have been stronger. Surely it was a sin to be in the clutches of the wicked. Now she was paying the price for allowing Rita to die before her very eyes. Why, Rita had endured the very same sensations, feeling so helpless, drowning on one’s feet…that thought alone broke Olesia’s heart. Forgive me…forgive me…

Blood gushed through Olesia’s fingers, dribbling from her grimacing lips, soaking her front and painting the floor below and the wall at her back. Though she could still stand, Olesia grappled with the urge to feint…knowing she would surely die, if that were the case. Stay calm, you have faced death before. There is nothing to fear.

Eryka…Transcended One…I don’t want to die here…

Olesia called into the infinite Void, where prayers fly and gods dwell. Eryka’s Fyre swiftly answered, entering her spirit and re-igniting the flame, through which her indomitable faith manifested before the Pirate’s very eyes. The Paladin’s ravaged throat stitched seamlessly back together, steaming by an invisible touch. The Light empowered her to once again pick up her sword.

Gasping in sweet gulps of air, her face smeared with blood, everything was doused in a crimson light. Feral rage burned in Olesia’s eyes, further fueled by the Pirate Chant and the sight of that lanky Wizard—fighting with a dagger?! She could barely protect herself, let alone a flimsy scholar and his ridiculous parrot in the thick of battle! On top of that, that irksome cleric taunted them from the stairway—muddling their efforts.

Lifting a harrowing cry to the heavens, aiming low, the Paladin kicked off the wall, driving her cutlass deep into the Pirate’s groin. That’s right. With all her might, the sword violently delved through the man’s body, the pointy end decimating his insides and ripping through his right buttcheek. Meeting the bastard’s gaze, their faces mere inches apart, so close that she could smell the foul dankness of the pirate’s rattling breath, she smiled as his visage twisted with excruciating pain.

“I'M NOT A PRIESTESS, YOU TWIT! PISS ON THIS !” With that, the Feral Lady ripped out her sword, drenching the Darakyan in blood and entrails.



ActionsMovement: None
Action: Power attack Merc4 (Success/ 14 dmg)
Bonus Action: Lay on Hands (heals for 7+1 (Taevar’s Hat Blessing))
Reaction: Pissed off
Current effects:


StatBlock
 


Last edited by JReid; 08-18-2018 at 06:13 AM.
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  #157  
Old 08-18-2018, 12:25 PM
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René René could finally see the battle from where he was standing, and now he knew the problem.

That wretched cleric, someone had to deal with him.

Remembering his lessons from his youth, he knew that clerics were particularly difficult to manipulate with the winds of magic – but it was possible, and often the benefits outweighed the costs.

Reaching for another handful of sand, the Tiny Vicomte steps away from the villain in front of him, René had done his part with the dagger, but now he could effect the entire flow of battle.

Instead of relying on his learning René channels the magic flowing through his body, the arcane blood going from a simmer to a raging boil, forcing as much of the innate magic into the spell as possible, he unleashes the sand onto the winds – and hopes.
OoC Mage Armor; 6 hours.
5’ Step back.
Sleep on the Cleric, boosting DC by two, DC18 Will Save to Negate
 
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  #158  
Old 08-18-2018, 04:16 PM
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With the Goddess of the waves called, her currents overtook the room, undoing everything Pacho and his comrades had done. Once this is finished I’m going to take a nice long dump in the sea he thought before a grimace crossed his face as a blade sliced into his leg, his twice defeated foe returned. Sick of the bopping game, Pacho sneered at the man and turned his attention to the cleric, the source of his vexations. Pacho took a second to examine the gaps of old man’s armor, the way he moved, choosing where best to strike. Decided, he raised his sap and bashed the holy man’s upon the head, bloodying his brow. Not what he wanted, but a start.

“Two more, close up.” Pacho heard Sayyida yell below. On instinct he relayed the message Two more pirates coming up. Pacho’s eyes darted back down to the prone nipper at his heals. “My Feral lady, if he gets up could you finish him for me. Cleaving him should make it easy to move into the next.” Pacho said to the paladin as he took a quick step sideways to give room for anyone who wished to join the melee.


OOCMove action:Studied combat Cleric
Action: bash Cleric 21 hit, 7 damage.
Free: 5 ft step to in front of cleric



 

Last edited by gotha; 08-18-2018 at 04:17 PM.
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  #159  
Old 08-18-2018, 06:58 PM
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Tatsuo, Breakout!"No, we treat ruthless robbers and murderers like maggots," responds Tatsuo with a condescending sigh, as if instructing some slow child. "If you decide to put yourself into that category, that is simply your own fault."

This shaman of the ocean goddess continues to blunt their efforts to lay their foes low. The spy's eyes narrow into a serious mien at odds with his usual flippancy. Stepping toward the cleric, his joints limber up like a flowing wave. "There is a problem with choosing the sea as a mistress." Dropping his dagger, Tatsuo leaps upon the enemy priest, holding his limbs fast. "She is a notoriously fickle one."

ActionsFree: 5' step SW
Move: Martial Flexibility to gain Improved Grapple feat
Free: drop dagger
Standard: grapple cleric (no AoO): 24 vs 17 - grappled

 
OOCCleric is grappled. CMD 17 gets him free if he wants to escape.

For anyone else, his AC drops by 2.
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  #160  
Old 08-18-2018, 11:03 PM
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It is very clear now that death is the only option that these pirates will accept. Not that she had any doubts about her lack of mercy towards them, but the cleric's actions in the room ahead cement her feelings on the matter. This was not a matter of foolish morality, it was now a matter of survival. Either the pirates die, or they will themselves be either slain or imprisoned. Leaning over to pick up the sword that Tatsuo dropped earlier the priestess focuses her attention on the pirate in front of Taevar. He seems particularly dangerous, and the man with the hat will need aid. Placing her hand on his back again she lets more of the emerald green energy flow over him, forming an aura of protective shimmering scales that contracts into him, just as it did for Olesia before.

 

 


Last edited by PalladiaMors; 08-20-2018 at 01:00 AM.
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  #161  
Old 08-19-2018, 12:15 AM
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Taevar was a bit put off when the magical snake came out of the foreigners arm and bit him solidly. For but a moment he thought he had been betrayed, but then he felt the rejuvenation of energy fill him as the magic seemed to heal his wounds. As he felt the warmth run through him he realized similar magics were healing the pirates, it had to be stopped.

Looking over toward the priest Taevar once again put his fingers to his lips. Shhhhhh.... He knew it might make it more challenging for some of the magic users to finish of the pirates, but better that than letting the cleric continue to drag on the battle and have to noise alert others to their presence.



OOC
Free Action: Continue Inspire Courage
Swift Action:
Standard: Cast Silence on Cleric


 
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Last edited by Avner; 08-19-2018 at 12:16 AM.
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  #162  
Old 08-19-2018, 02:10 PM
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Currently
Date 3th of Azaëlle, 7453 (Winter)
Time Evening
Weather Outside Snowing, -21 C.
Inside Normal Light, 4 C.

Raven's Den Cells - Round 4
right-aligned image
Cleric of Celesya
The old man is singing to the top of his lung before his breath is cut short by Tatsuo who is jumping on him. They wrestle and the Oracle gets the upper hand by twisting the elder's right arm, in pain and gasped for air the cleric sweat dripped down his forehead and his head felt light and dizzy. - " By the holy wave guys... deal with this filthy half-breed... " Everything went silence in the room before he could finish his sentence.

With their leader in trouble, the three pirates still standing turn their blades toward Tatsuo. The mercenaries don't have much trouble to pierce and slash the unprotected man, his face twisted in pain as the three weapons tear his body, he collapses on the floor, vision blurred and before he knew it everything turned black. Another wave of healing fills the heart of the pirates that silently scream with courage against the prisoners as the cleric raise high the Celesya holy symbol over his head.

Downstair Sayyida see the two pirates smoking some opium and exchanging a bottle of grog, they didn't notice the silent battle going on upstairs and seem to have a lot of fun laughing and tripping.


 

 


 
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Last edited by MoonZar; 08-19-2018 at 02:21 PM.
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  #163  
Old 08-19-2018, 05:07 PM
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The Feral Lady
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They dwelled in the midst of carnage. Hell. An unending Hell, at that! The crazed, blood spattered smile that was on her face flew into a snarl as the Darakyan’s pelvis she had just irrevocably destroyed snapped back into one piece, his outsides slurping back up into innards once again—no thanks to the cleric and his Sea God. With a sidelong glance, she watched as the feeble old man grappled with the nobleman Tatsuo, compelled then by an itch to rush over and destroy him. This undoer of Eryka’s Sword.

Shockingly, the surrounding pirates turned away from Olesia Knox, targeting Tatsuo in one swift effort, slashing him to a bloodied pulp amid the magical, deafening silence. Watching the first of them fall, and helpless to reach him, Olesia shuddered with rage.

So, this cleric thought they were chopped liver next to his goddess, aye? Not so. Not so. There was another goddess here, that did not look upon him in a favorable light. Olesia was determined now to show this fool man the error of his logic. In all his crotchety years, he will rue this moment when he blocked their path to freedom—let him call upon his sea goddess, let him bring back his scummy comrades. The Feral Lady will hack, and slash, and yank their guts out as many blasted times as it takes until there is nothing left of their mutilated bodies. As long as they were awake through it all, of course.

Raising a silent cry, the miffed paladin powerfully swung her blade into an upward soar, slicing the prone Darakyan across the neck. Spinning round with her partner, deadly inertia, Olesia opened the throat of the falchion-hand Darakyan in a showering spray. Indeed they were all adults here….but the situation demanded a little tit for tat.

“Taste the Fyres of Eryka!” She hissed, pointing her blood-stricken blade straight at the old man. No, he could not hear her words, but hopefully the meaning was perfectly transparent upon her face, gruesome indeed, and the starkly white smile amid crimson.



ActionsMovement: None
Action: Cleave Merc 3 (Success/12dmg) Cleave Merc4 (Success/ 14dmg)
Bonus Action: Cutlass waving
Reaction:
Current effects:


StatBlock
 


Last edited by JReid; 08-19-2018 at 05:40 PM.
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  #164  
Old 08-19-2018, 05:40 PM
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RanaThe battle was getting well out of hand, with that cleric where he is, being unchallenged he could regenerate his band of ingrates like they were trolls. The man Rana and Taevar were in locked combat with took enough punishment to kill most well-trained soldiers but the waves of healing one after another were seemingly endless. From the position of where the disorganized fighting went however, there was no clear line of fire Rana could take where something useful could occur, nor did she have any spells to use.

If it wasn't for Olesia being such a brute of a woman, this ragtag group likely would have not passed the defeat of a single guard, even though René did something special to unlock every cell and shackle. It was good magic, but every person here was deep in enemy territory and lacked strategy or guile in the moves since.

Not wishing to be focused all day on her throbbing headache probably prompted from her still chilling bones, she steps toward René's side, focuses her magic and lets bolts of magic fly. Unfortunately however her left hand, always the useless one since she was released, conjured a bolt that flew off at a ninety degree angle upwards. It is astounding considering the fact that the magic was nothing less than a cantrip in difficulty yet somehow it couldn't hit a thing. But thankfully, her right hand was useful, if not ineffective, striking the man with a weaker load of concussive, corrosive substance at his hip.

After firing, Rana lowers her arms and staggers backwards, cursing beneath her breath.

 

 
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  #165  
Old 08-19-2018, 05:58 PM
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Korag Bolin
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Korag made his way through the crowd at the door and took a position between Rana and Rene. A quick shot there, again sailing past all obstruction, drilled into the cleric even as he fought with Tatsuo. Moving again as he reloaded the crossbow, he dashed to the far wall, back almost against the cold stone. Now with a clear shot at his foe, he aimed and shot again. This bolt was particularly fierce, landing just below the priest’s neck and triggering a geyser of blood. "Heal that, you bastard!" he cried as he loaded for the next shot.


 


 
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