Castle Ravenloft Adventure

Bard's serious expression turned grave as the creatures covering darkness was erased by the light of the spell.

It was incapacitated by psychic damage, he said, pulling himself up and standing straight. His eyes shut and holding his staff in both hands, he beat out a staccato rhythm upon the stone floor. The first few taps sounded like nothing more than the tinny noise of metal upon stone, but each succeeding tap seems to reverberate with the sound of drums, at first faintly, but growing ever louder and more prominent with each strike upon the ground until it becomes almost deafening. Bard begins to chant, and softly joining in harmony are ethereal voices; the drums beat out a rhythm in accompaniment:

With quailing hearts the weak do flee,
Leaving to ash all good and fair;
From sky to earth, and hill to sea,
Enemies succumb to crushing despair!

Allies! Take heart, hearken to me,
Allow my words the power to cope,
With the power and hunger of our enemies,
Hear for yourselves this song of good hope!

The drums die quickly as he ends the song, and the mist around their knees swirls and eddies as if they are themselves a sea. Within all his companions the drums and voices still seem to echo and reverberate and thrum, granting them strength and energy against the creatures that surround them.

The light at the top of his staff glows brighter for a moment, and four bolts of magical energy burst forth from the beacon, slamming into the monstrous floating heart some feet away from him.

DESCRIPTION: CRUSHING HOPE: Allies within 5 spaces of Bard gain +2 to attack and damage rolls, saving throws, ability checks, and skill checks. Enemies within 5 spaces take -2 to all of the above.

Minuet of Spring: Magic Missile - Target: Fell Taint Morpheus
DAMAGE: 14

Well ok! Veraun cried as he began waving his hands, arcane energy leaking from them. CLEAR! Veraun screamed with glee as he fired a bolt of lightning into the purple thingy.


Lightning Bolt
ATK - 19
DMG - 37

Init: 18

Lucca, who had been originally lost in thought by the entrance as the other members went from snarky and whimsical to grim and desperate, was himself taken by surprise as the light of Bard's staff exposed the Fell Taints lurking about.
->Almost immediately his two blades tear through the Fell Taint to his front, it's form distorting and turning an even lighter shade of green as parts of it deteriorates away. The wisp is left barely in existence, the blades sifting through, Lucca's form sliding to the left past it under the protection of the scimitar's uppercut. Whipping the swords around his head and back to the ready, the creature's near death status awakens a bloodlust as slight fear and adrenaline start stoking the fires guiding his hands.

Damage: 28
Dodge [+1AC] set on closest Fell Taint.

Ghetto Map is ghetto....

Bard- Kalleth-Taints-Veraun-Lucca-Shuun

Bard: Casts Crushing Hope; hit; 14 damage to FT Morpheus
Kalleth: hit; 25 damage to FT Gigas
Morpheus: hit; 6 psychic damage to Kalleth, teleports him adjacent to Gigas
Gigas: hit; 13 force damage to Kalleth and pushes him 2
Drone 1: hit; 10 psychic damage to Kalleth
Drone 2: moves; misses Kalleth
Drone 3: moves adjacent to Bard; hit, 10 psychic damage; expires
Drone 4: moves adjacent to Bard; hit, 10 psychic damage
Drone 5: moves adjacent to Bard; misses
Drone 6: moves adjacent to Bard; hit, 10 psychic damage
Drone 7: moves
Veraun: 2 hits; 37 to FT Morpheus, Drone 3 expires; DOMINATED 1 TURN
Lucca: 2 hits; 28 to Drone 3
Shuun: fumbles with chain

Bard’s enchanted words resonate through the chamber, filling his magical projectiles with power and striking the Morpheus squarely in its…well, heart. Kalleth’s deft footwork and mastery of the Diamond Mind style allow him to stab into the Fell Taint Gigas with the tip of his blade, dealing a powerful blow.
Yet even hit these blows, the taints do not flinch. They do not scream. They do not even seem to feel. They merely float about, silent and horrible. Not a sound do they make as a swarm of drones attacks Bard, all but crushing him under the psychic assault.
The pulsating Morpheus swells a bit and suddenly Kalleth finds him hurtling through space, whishing past the flickering, cooling remnants of ancient stars and the crumbling, burning husks of worlds. There is a sense of falling, or sinking, into the night-depths of the pit, then whirling upwards to the empty stillness of the moon, and then back again to the pit- and he finds himself not 5 feet from where he began, staring directly into the gently flexing mouths of the Gigas. A wave of telekinetic energy burst from it, and blows him backwards into the cavern wall, the jagged stone tearing into his back, followed by the psychic onslaught of two drones. If not for the teachings of the Stone Dragon Style, Kalleth would never have found the composure to remain standing.
(FELL TAINT COMBO ATTACK BYATCHES!)
Lucca’s blades bite into one drone as he sidesteps and defends himself. That same drone, incidentally, floats over to Bard and ravages his mind-and then dissipates as a titan bolt of thunder rockets across the chamber, passing through another drone, and straight into the Morpheus.
But as the drone expires the miniscule sliver of alien intelligence that the Morpheus granted it overwhelms its attacker-Veraun hears its alien call and cannot help but do its bidding for a brief period of time

Status
Bard- 38 HP; BLOODIED
Kalleth- 102 HP
Veraun- 46 HP
Lucca- 44 HP
Shuun- 89 HP
Morpheus- 51 damage taken
Gigas- 25 damage taken
Drones 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, and 7- fresh

DM Note: Veraun is dominated until the end of his next turn. The fell taints order him to do the following on his turn.

Moves 1 space diagonally left; casts Scorching Ray; 2 hits, 40 fire damage to Kalleth

OOM - i hate you.

Move: F4 to F6
Maneuver: Stone Bones - gain DR 5/adamantine for 1 round
Attack: 36 to Gigas
Damage: 22
Swift Action: Regain Maneuvers

Kalleth lets out a long, creative string of curses...he's actually still cursing through his whole attack...draconic, then infernal, then abyssal, back to draconic again. Kalleth ignores the drones attacking him completely, instead running (careful not to touch the drones, lest something nasty happen to him) to the Gigas, dealing a mighty blow to it, and falling back into attack stance, ending his curses with a primal growl and seamigly renewed vigor.

Take out the Morpheus, then fall back down the hallway. We can try to bottleneck them so they can't surround us. Kalleth, however, did not fall back. He instead turned back to the drone behind him, ready to strike again.

Bard buckles under the onslaught of the ethereal monstrosities, but holds himself together, though barely. Ignoring the drones floating next to him through sheer effort of will, he pulls from his belt a small potion flask, bites off the cap, and downs it.

Rejuvenated, he girds himself for his next move, and the air around him thrums gently with the sound of soft notes, as of harps. Further strengthened by his spell, he sets the Morpheus in his sights again, and launches four more missiles of force.

DMG:19
Bardic Ability: Inspire Greatness: You or one ally within 30 ft gains +2 to attack and damage rolls, +1 to Fort saves, and temporary HP equal to 2d10 + the target’s Con mod. This lasts as long as you spend a minor action to sustain the effect though sustaining doesn’t count as a use of Bardic Music.

Almost on cue from the fiery missiles leaving Bard's staff, Lucca takes off past him, jumping onto the massive crystal form and launching himself off it towards the Morpeus. Spinning a front flip in the air into a 180, landing behind the Morpheus, both scimitars stabbing down into entity with the force of a cave-in.

But as the wisp discorporates and thins into the air, Lucca stays deathly still in a kneeling position...his eyes staring hollowly toward the ground...the life gone from them. The hair usually so neatly and casually held behind his elven ears now hanging in his face like the branches of a weeping willow. His fingers still gripping the hilts of his swords, though his arms hang limp.

Damage: 29, Morpheus slain.

Short and sweet today guys...

Bard: hit, 19 damage to Morpheus; 20 damage taken
Kalleth-hit; 22 damage to Gigas; in space B5, prone (was teleported then pushed); 69 damage taken
Morpheus: hit; 8 psychic damage to Kalleth, teleports him adjacent to Gigas
Gigas: hit; 11 force damage to Kalleth and pushes him 2
Drone 1: hit, 5 psychic to Kalleth
Drone 2: to C5; miss
Drone 4: to C6; hit, 5 psychic
Drone 5: hit, 10 psychic damage to Bard
Drone 6: to E8; hit, 10 psychic to Bard
Drone 7: to E7; miss
Veraun: to F8; casts Scorching Ray; 2 hits, 40 fire damage to Kalleth
Lucca: 2 hits; FT Morpheus expires; DOMINATED
Shuun: checks to see if he left the gas on
END OF ROUND
Bard: Uses Cure Serious and Moderate Wounds on Kalleth; Inspire Greatness on Kalleth (45 HP healed, 15 temp HP gained)

DM NOTE: Veraun is no longer Dominated, but Lucca is. On his next turn he performs a full attack on Kalleth; 4 hits (2 of which you might be able to avoid if you increase your AC somehow), 50 damage total.

TUMBLE: 25 (DC 15)
JUMP: 25 (DC 20)
Stance: Giant's Stance
Maneuver: Death from Above
Attack: 32
Damage: 36
Jump: from B5 to B7 (?, not 100% sure where everyone/thing is so B7 is an estimate...trying to get as far away from being surrounded as possible)

Kalleth grimaces as his head is wracked with pain and he is seemingly tossed around the room. Disoriented, he looks around the room, quickly determining where he was. In an acrobatic move, Kalleth quickly is on his feet, dodging attacks along the way and falling into an aggressive fighting stance. Focus on the Gigas! he shouts as he leaps into the air, taking a mighty swing at the nearest taint drone and landing in stance on its other side. Take it out! he groans, landing, taking several hits, his head spinning, blood pouring from fresh wounds caused by Lucca's blade. Now! Let's finish this!

(AFAIK Death from Above still provokes AoOs.)

What in... Veraun shakes his head as if coming out of a dream. Hearing Kalleths words snaps him back to the present danger and turning to the gigas he unleashes twin rays of flame at the monstrosity.

Scorching Ray
ATK - 14
DMG - 22

Lucca, Bard says through grit teeth to Lucca, whose eyes begin to clear from the control of the Taint. A number of the drones lazily float around his head like some monstrous ethereal crown or halo. We are quite in need of some assistance at the moment. Lawrence seems to have disappeared.

Remaining somewhat in control of his actions, he waits until Kalleth has struck the Gigas before unleashing a number of missiles into the Taints that surround him.

MAGIC MISSILE: TARGETS: DRONES 4 (10 DMG), 5 (12 DMG), 6 (9 DMG), 7 (10 DMG),

Kalleth tucks and rolls, dodging the attacks of drones and stabbing viciously into the Gigas. He hears a gurgling sort of hiss behind him, spins, readies his weapon, and stares his elven assailant in his glossy eyes. He had seen the pale elf in action before and knew that even when under the control of another he was a dangerous foe. And yet, it was not fear that filled Kalleth, but eagerness and elation- his draconic nature made even this duel exciting. It was time to see if this hollow-boned fey was any match for the elder Bloodscale brother.

Lucca charges forward, one attack high, the other low. Kalleth deflects both with and upward swipe and then surges forward, shoulder first. The nimble elf easily ducks beneath the warblade’s horizontal swipe and follows through with an ankle-biting jab. Only the durability of Kalleth’s greaves prevent a potentially hobbling blow and he responds with a strike of enormous power which Lucca is only able to block with full strength and crossed swords. Kalleth feels himself switching places with Lucca and decides to drive his enemy back against the wall- without his maneuverability, the elf will prove no match. Kalleth’s follow-up strikes match his previous on power and force, driving the ranger backwards, closer to the wall. With his goal in sight, he makes a final, mighty attack, brining his bastard sword down vertically with tremendous speed- Lucca can only leap backwards to dodge it.

But, to Kalleth’s surprise, the spry warrior, instead of being trapped as planned, kicks off the wall and lunges back towards him. Kalleth, his sword low and strength momentarily drained from the last attack, is unable to block as Lucca strikes him upside the head with his hilt-clenching fist, dazing the aged, armored warrior, and for a moment Kalleth wonders if a sturdy helm would be worth the investment.

Seizing the advantage, Lucca follows with a flurry of blows which the staggering Kalleth is barely able to block or avoid. Once his sense returned the warrior begins to parry with increased force- Lucca feels his attacks being deflected with greater and greater ease. It won’t not be long before the Kalleth’s parry resounds with enough force to leave the elf open. Kalleth, for his part, fights with renewed vigor- all he need do is wait until the elf began to tire. Without his speed or coordination, Lucca’s offense would be minimal- not much longer.

Lucca brings his scimitars down hard, hoping, Kalleth assumes, to match his bastard sword in sheer force. It is only for an instant, but the man could swear he saw a smile flash across the elf’s pale face. As Kalleth brings his sword up diagonally to block, Lucca flips the scimitars in his hands so that the blades curved towards their master. The edges would not be able to find purchase…but with the swords’ concavity, the tips can reach PAST Kalleth’s interposing weapon. The trick works, and the razor-tips of the scimitars bite into the warblade’s shoulders like the fangs of a viper. His strength suddenly fails him and Kalleth is forced to drop his guard- the resulting attack is relentless.

In a flurry of glinting steel Lucca regains the advantage, moving to the side with each attack, until the warriors are once again in their original positions, this time with Lucca driving Kalleth back towards the wall.

It might have been the third blow across his chest or the nasty gash on his right side, but one of Lucca’s attacks awoke something in the warblade. Draconic power and rage surges forth and tapping depths of power unknown, Kalleth retaliates with a room resounding cry and a blow like thunder. Even with his x-cross block Lucca is physically pushed backwards by the attack- the warblade’s stamina has increased while his was starting to fade. One more assault was all he had left.

Lucca rushes forward again- Kalleth holds his blade in front, ready to utilize his superior reach. But as the elf rushes he takes his left arm, crosses it in front, and swings- throwing the whirling scimitar right at Kalleth’s feet. Unable to dodge without opening himself up to an easy finishing blow, Kalleth brings the end of his sword down swiftly, blocking the spinning blade. He should have been able to lift it up and strike-should have.

But with a grace which only elven blood could give, Lucca deftly leaps onto Kalleth’s lowered blade, standing on it’s edge as though it were a tight rope, and thrusts his blade into Kalleth’s chest-hoping to strike the heart. He misses only because of a last second shift by the master Kalleth, but the wound spewes blood none the less. And, as a sleeping man awakes when splashed by water, so too does Lucca regain his senses by the taste of the man’s blood on his lips.

Twin beams of fire shoot from Veraun’s outstretched hand. As they fly they take the faint shape of fiery serpents and rip through the Gigas, causing it to explode in a burst of wispy cinders, while Bard targets the numerous drones. Without the Gigas to empower them, they pop like over-ripe grapes. With their comrades slain, the remaining drones slowly fade away, fleeing the battle.

All that is left in the room now are some badly scraped up adventurers, a hallway leading north, and the statue of the maiden, her hands clasped in prayer. The sound of dripping water can still be heard...as well as that nagging sensation in the back of your minds...the desire to go forward, to descend...........to fall...

DM Note: End of combat. Kalleth is now at 50 HP.

My apologies friend. Lucca says deducing what he has done by the scene he has come back into consciousness to. He flicks his blades free of blood and sheaths them. Wiping the blood from his mouth with one hand and retrieving a cloth from his pouch with the other and handing it to Kalleth.

Assuming the mighty warrior will only accept the minimal amount of graciousness after what ever had just happened he leaves it at handing him the cloth and bounces nimbly...not so nimbly as his muscles feel slightly bruised now, away and up the platform which holds the statue. Turning back and looking to each persons face.

I think we should rest a moment, lest we encounter something similar down the hallway.

((That was freakin' AWESOME! I think I have to thank you for largely ignoring my post Jolly, because that was the most epic 6 seconds ever.))

Kalleth barely feels the sting of the elf's blades at first, his eyes dilated with adrenaline. But seeing his own blood on Lucca's lips calls him back to reality, and he lowers his sword, letting go of it with his left hand and holding it at his right side. As Lucca begins to return to return to his senses, his eyes unglazing quickly, so too do Kalleth's senses begin to flood his mind with pain. Kalleth grits his teeth, then a large, genuine smile sweeps across his face. He nods, raising his sword from his side in one hand, his sword hand rising to his chest, blade vertical upward in a salute.

Well-fought, my friend, he replied, still smiling. And it's fine, Lucca. I'm no stranger to effects which enthrall. I had a mage friend who was forever being attacked by a dominated comp...well...you don't want to hear old war-stories, now do you? We may, my friend, have to continue this duel another time, however. I believe that I want a rematch. He accepts the cloth with another gracious nod, still smiling, holding it to one of the fresh wounds Lucca had opened. He immediately grits his teeth at the pain of the pressure on the wound. Grabbing a cloth one-handed he wipes down his sword, cleaning it. He does not sheathe it immediately, however. I second the motion for rest. Rest would be a good idea. We seem to have been a bit under-prepared for this particular dungeon. Does anyone have a suggestion on what to do next?

Press on ever forward! Who knows what treasure, or triumphs may await us. Veraun says with an eager light in his eye. Onward i say, ever onward!

Sorry for everything, it has been along time since the last time i have used this weapon or any type of combat for that matter Shuun says as he twirls his chain around trying to get back in the swing of things.

I do have a fondness for old war stories, good warrior. Sometime in more hospitable surroundings you'll have to tell me as many as you can remember over a mug or two....or twelve. Lucca lightly sits on the floor, his legs hanging over the edge of the platform holding the praying statue. Bard, not too far away, leans against a wall and lightly hums to himself. Lucca looks around a bit, but still fixating on the unfortunate crystal being.
As I would equally like to hear about the place you hail from someday, Veraun. Throwing the drow a wink and looking to newest addition of the group. Don't worry Shuun, I'm sure there are PLENTY more battles ahead of us, your sickle will taste blood and you'll regain your battle steps soon enough I'm sure.

Short Rest: Party members regain 1d4 x their CON mod worth of HP for 1 hour of rest or CON mod's worth for half an hour.

I pre-rolled: if you take an hour, you regain your CON mod x3 HP. If you have potions or healing spells you can use those as well.

All the while you have that nagging sensation in the back of your minds....that faint, siren-like call urging you onwards. The mood during the rest is surprisingly jovial, friendly even. One wonders if it is your time together or just that danger you face that has drawn you closer. Or, perhaps, it is a slipping grip on reality.

The hallway to the north leads to a solid, iron door with a plain facade. It looks heavy but opening it should be an reletively simple matter.

Kalleth chuckled at Veraun's enthusiasm even as he sat on the floor, leaning against the wall stiffly. He is in surprisingly good spirits...the best he'd been in during the whole trip. I for one and taking a rest first. And with Shuun's words Kalleth exclaimed with shock, You do speak! I thought years of being stashed in a sarcophagus had taken your voice. Turning to Lucca he responded, More like 12...or 14...hell we'll just buy a whole bar. He suddenly remembered his flask, pulling from its resting place, wiping it off and taking a deep swig. He offered it to Lucca. He noticed Lucca's wink to Veraun, but something else was nagging him. I'm actually more interested in hearing where Bard hails from. And what's up with that pink pile in the center of the room? You seemed to have a pretty strong reaction to it. Even as he spoke Kalleth saw the peculiarity in their situation. In a dungeon, less than a minute ago Kalleth was in utter terror of losing control of himself...of total invasion and displacement of his mind. Now he was sitting along the wall with the nagging urge to press on...to push deeper into this hell-hole. And he was...jovial. He found a strange thought enter his mind; maybe the dungeon itself was using the fell taints, a threat of immediate loss of his mind, to distract from the more gradual, and very real, actuality of losing his mind.

((Uses his health crystal, and votes to rest 1 hour.))

I'm going to assume the party rests because, quite frankly, they need it. While doing so each of you who stay within the crystal room can make a DC 32 Spot check. Those that pass, I'll PM the result to you.

After an hour and regaining some HP the party comes to the rusty iron door just north of the previous room. The door is firmly stuck, rusted shut. But with a little elbow grease and working as a team, they're able to push the door in and reveal the room ahead.

Beyond the door is a slightly smaller room with a sizable table and a few chairs. Scattered on the table are several pieces of paper. More importantly, situated in one of the chairs is the skeleton of a tiefling, slumped over. On the far side of the room is another tiefling skeleton, but this one is standing perfectly upright and motionless. It's skull is cocked slightly upwards, as if looking at something ahead and slightly up the wall.

Anyone inspecting the table

Spoiler:

Arcana DC 12

Spoiler:

Anyone inspecting the slumped skeleton- Spot DC 15

Spoiler:

Anyone inspecting the slumped skeleton- Heal DC 12

Spoiler:

Anyone inspecting the standing skeleton: roll a d6.

Even numbered results or anyone who is intentionally moving the skeleton in anyway

Spoiler:

SPOT: 14 (DC 32; failed)
ARCANA: 18
SPOT: 20
HEAL: 17

Feeling much better after a rest, Kalleth is fine with pushing forward. Two hours ago he would've suggested pulling back and getting supplies...to be better prepared for the rest of the dungeon, but adrenaline has gotten to him, and now he is more than eager to help open the door to the next room.

Kalleth strides in, sword raised, one of the first to enter the room. He circles around the table, inspecting the papers. Mostly useless stuff, and mostly decayed. But one...pristine. Kalleth laughs. It is a deep and hearty laugh. Oh, if you only knew, Iados. He reads the paper aloud, still chuckling. At the looks given him he says, What? I appreciate irony. He shrugs. It's funny cause it's not me. He sets the paper back down, wondering what spell was used to keep it so well preserved. And why? It wasn't like it was that complicated or important an order. It amounted to Watch the fort while I'm gone, getting killed by adulterous psychotic wife. Be back soon.

Suddenly something catches his eye, sending a chill down his spine. Hello. This is...this is not good. What do you make of this? He asks Bard specifically, who seems to have been the only person reacting to the odd features of this place with as much fear (and Kalleth therefore assumes as much knowledge) as he does. Dread fills him again as he points the wound out to Bard. Looks self-inflicted.

Who slits their own throat? Nobody. It's not part of any suicide ritual Kalleth is familiar with, at least not one immediately coming to mind, and it doesn't seem to him to be one of the easier or more noble ways to go. So what? The only thing Kalleth can think of is more psionic, mind invading bullshit. The enthusiasm to press on that he'd had moments before is once again replaced by doubt and dread, and he silently wishes that he had some way to protect his mind from the onslaught.

((It's so good seeing my health bar above half, if only for a while.))

SPOT: 9
ARCANA: Even with a 1 I could have gotten this.
SPOT: 16
HEAL: 13

Well, it certainly seems like things had gotten exciting - or depressing - in here, Bard exclaims, leaning forward to the point where his nose nearly touches the skeleton.

It certainly seems so, Bard says in answer to Kalleth, though his tone is much more cheerful. His very quiet rest seems to have done wonders for him. And a dagger on the ground nearby... perhaps that's the weapon? Or perhaps some cruel magic has run off with it? Perhaps, just perhaps, our poor dead soldier here had a fascination with De Sarth - an obsessive and madly passionate fascination - and upon hearing of the birth of a child, having his hopes dashed as to the possibility of any dreams or lurid and obscene fantasies of his coming true in regards to his superior, he slit his own throat in despair?

I guess I should mention that there is a second iron door leading further northward. Beyond which, by the way, you suddenly hear a loud clang, like metal falling on stone.

Those that have continued forward notice a sort of buzz or hum in their mind. It is not unpleasant- it's actually quite soothing, and something about it seems to promise more of the same the further you go.