Aspiring Aspire-ations, Part 5

Log Info

• Title: Aspiring Aspire-ations, Part 5

• GM: Whirlpool

• Characters: Aelwyn, Carver, Eztli, Faranmidahn, Fidget

• Place: Felwood

Previously: [[1]]

Carver squeezes with her legs, guiding her steed to remain just out of reach of the strange creature of air. She was, in truth, uncertain how much her common arrows were adding to the volley of magic from the casters, but they hadn't screamed at her to egt out of the way yet so...

Twangtwangtwangtwangtwang.

Carver squeezes with her legs, guiding her steed to remain just out of reach of the strange creature of air. She was, in truth, uncertain how much her common arrows were adding to the volley of magic from the casters, but they hadn't screamed at her to egt out of the way yet so...

Twangtwangtwangtwang. The rapid flicker of her bowstring has its own music, its own rhythm. That falls short as the last shot seems to strike something with a little less give than air itself. She squints in disbelief, struggling to recontexualize what is happening inside the elemental in a way that makes sense inside of her nogging.

"Guys? I think we broke it?" Spiderweb cracks begin to spread out from the core, a blossoming light speaking of urgency. Of what? Not clear.

__

<OOC> Whirlpool was just about to get to that. I think we can drop inits for now, and start off withj everyone making a ref save. ;D
GAME: Aelwyn rolls reflex: (20)+8: 28 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
GAME: Eztli rolls reflex: (17)+9: 26
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls reflex: (13)+7: 20
<OOC> Fidget says, "Is there any time before the explosion?"
GAME: Faranmidahn rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25
<OOC> Faranmidahn says, "second roll was torrent's save"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Like a a small amount, fidget. :)"
GAME: Carver rolls reflex: (12)+9: 21
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Fidget is wanting to take two people with a dimension door. This can be done."
<OOC> Fidget says, "Since we're not sure, I'll grab Etzli and Faran."
GAME: Fidget casts Dimension Door. Caster Level: 8 DC: 21
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Okay! How far are you wanting to move?"
<OOC> Fidget says, "We don't know how big of a problem it is, so probably a decent ways. 500ft? We can always walk back."

Fidget spots the cracks and quickly comes to the conclusion that this is about to be a problem, an explodey problem, probably. She abruptly plummets from her flight, dropping the distance to the ground, and grabs the two people who are closest, the Lucht and the little Makari. Slapping a purple hand on a shoulder and an arm, the gobbo says "Time to voop!" and she and they poof out of existence, leaving a faint blue streak in the air pointing towards where they'd been walking, and away from the cracking elemental. A short distance away, the three of them reappear with a VOOP and a little pop, and the gobbo crashes to the ground in a pile of spinning ruffles, since she was still mid-dive when they'd teleported - and the rules of portals are clear: 'Speedy thing go in, speedy thing come out.'

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 10d6: (28): 28

Carver, having glanced to the others, looks back to the creature just as her faithful companion have a start. A sharp kick that surprised her enough to dislodge, an attempt made to catch her balance only serving to throw herself farther off of 'Lambchop'. Time freeze, air held still, heart in the ears. All the classic tropes.

Aelwyn glances at Carver when she speaks those words - then back at the creature. There is barely pause in his step then though, as reactions take over and he starts to run away from the cracks - headed towards the nearest cover in any direction.

Eztli is left with little time to react to the creature as it seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Luckily, the small sith-makar is no longer within the blast zone so to speak, but they are sent sprawling across the ground with an impact transferred across space.

There isn't a lot of time for the pale Knight to process the circumstances and get Torrent wheeling about to open distance before the touch to her shoulder suddenly transposes her and her trusty steed to a rapid impact with the ground many yards away. As the two are strapped together by the unique saddle that allows Faran to capitalize on the spider's extra dimensions of movement, the partnership tumbles as one in a clatter of flailing limbs and scattering arrows. "Owwww.....!" Torrent's legs twitch for several seconds, while his rider shakes her head, then twists her helm back into proper alignment.

...there's a great gust of wind, powerful and strong. Branches creek and tear from their tree as the wind picks up even more. It explodes outwards, the vortex does, and spreads in a wave, rippling over everything. Chunks of black opal lance into trees and into you, lacerating those who remained within reach, even as they took cover. Carver gets the absolute worst of it, leaving them a bloody, bloody mess. Once it finishes, all is silent. Vae is picking himself up from the ground, injured and scratched by the opal explosion himself. Covered in hiso wn blood from numerous small wounds, he starts picking it out of his skin and cursing loudly in elven.

Red spills out, a slowly spreading puddle. Thankfully, of what holes were put in her, the largest were plugged with the strange black opal shards. Despite the horse's best efforts to kick her to safety, it wasn't in time. Lambchop took even a more drastic damage, not simply impaled and singed, but lacerated and flayed. Clear as day that the horse is dead. What is less clear is if Carver is alive. Only a sharp pair of eyes could see a weak stirring and bubbling of the frothy blood near her lips and nose that speaks of a breath, at least from a distance.

Scrabbling back to her feet, Fidget shakes herself clear of the worst of the dirt like a soggy puppy, then brushes a stray leaf off her skirts. "We should probably head back and figure out if the others are okay. I, uhh, probably didn't need to go quite this far. But better safe than a bloody red mist." Fidget repeats the well known adventuring adage, taking a few steps then - remembering she can still fly - hopping into the air to zip towards the blast zone. "You all alive over there?!" she calls out as she flies, dodging through the trees.

Aelwyn was lying on the ground facedown now, and when he rolls over, it briefly looked like he got scorched. On closer examination, it was far worse - he was covered in shards. "Ugh." He growls as he slowly gets back up to his feet, carefully touching the bloodied mess. "This one hates this forest." He growls with a loud voice, as he reaches into his belt for a potion. Carver's horse gets a brief pitying look, but then the Dragoon slowly makes his way over to her. "Can one speak?"

GAME: Aelwyn used a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 2d8+3: (9)+3: 12

Faranmidahn never seems to get on well with outsiders, nor conscious manifestations of elemental forces... Still, as the albino's brain stops bouncing around in her skull, she concernedly checks on, "Torrent!" tenderly feeling about the twitching chitin to make sure her dear friend is alright. There was a call that was well, and truly too close, not far enough removed for her liking, and so, her focus is a little narrow for a moment. As it quickly becomes apparent that he's alright, she glances about to check on the rest of her companions and.... Whick of the Hunter's winds blew them all the way over...? OH! As Fidget explains herself, things start dropping into place, and with a, "Thank you!" Faran tap-taps the signal for Torrent to stand and, in the wake of the jostling of the arachnid's rise, the pale sorceress's eyes alight upon the fell horse and his rider and she freezes, a flash of Torrent's broken stillness beneath her franting hands within her mind's eye.

"I'm alright, I'm alright, don't worry, it was a good call." Eztli grumbles as she picks herself up off the ground. "And the others? Shit, I should have thought that through." The small makari takes a few flaps to clear the treeline, and soaring over to where the explosion took place. "Aelywn Carver, you guys alright back there? And the guide?" They call over.

The most telling thing about Carver's response is the lack of one.

Vae groans and picks a piece of glass out of his arm and then makes his way towards Carver and Lambchop. The latter earns an uttered prayer to Gilead. "May the fields be endless for you to dash through, brave one."

Fidget floats down to the ground near the explosion, looking around at the damage, then after a moment, "Oh no! Carver!" and she zips over to the downed woman to check on her, reaching into her little satchel with one hand, and producing a small wand of a reddish wood. "Are you still alive Carver?" the goblin asks, deep concern in her tone.

That was not good. Aelwyn takes a deep gulp, three, then throws away the potion as he makes his way over Carver, leaning over her. "It is not good!" He calls back out to the others. Looking around the forest to make sure they were not about to get ambushed, he then adds. "Carver is not responding!" He turns towards Vae. "Does one have more than prayers to help her?" He hisses, then reaches into his satchel for more potions. "... on a thought, let us not answer that."

GAME: Fidget rolls heal: (17)+0: 17
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Carver is quitely badly inured. She is not actively dying at the moment. :)"
<OOC> Eztli would like to apply potion to face sooner rather than later, and will do so
GAME: Eztli used a Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds.
GAME: Eztli rolls 2d8+1: (9)+1: 10

"Not within grasp," remarks Vae to Aelwyn, sympathetically. He kneels down by Carver. "She must have been with one of the other patrols. We'll need to locate them -- and then get out of this bloody forest." HE frowns, then gathers up a few pieces of the onyx to inspect them.

Eztli does not make a particularly graceful descent, ending up slowing herself be smacking into a tree where she can drop down to the forest floor. The small makari glances to the bodies, one known, the other unknown. "Shit shit shit, just a moment!" They shout, reaching into their robes and grabbing a small bottle, fumbling with the stopper just long enough to growl in frustration and snap the neck of it off, before unceremoniously dumping it down the ranger's mouth.

Magic heals all wounds so much faster than time. As the worse of the wounds fade as the elixir is urged down her gullet, black opal pushed out by skin and sinew stitching itself back together. Carver's eyes flutter open, looking at Eztli blankly, as if she had never seen her before this very moment. Then her eyes drop to the bottle in her hands. Realization sets in and she leans up and mwah! A little button kiss right on at the end of the Makari's nose. She's dazzled but she's aware. Her being awake right now is thanks to the rest of the party. Stiff and sore, covered in blood, she slowly rises to her feet. A whistle, still wet, is given out of cracked lips. It dies there when she sees 'Lambchop'. Dead. A wolf's howl is an achingly forlorn sound of loss, and it's timely but distant call here is laden with meaning. Or menance.

Faranmidahn shakes her head, heedless of the cold sweat, and forces herself back into the now. "I don't have anything like that!" she answers in dismay, even as she's coaxing Torrent closer to their injured colleague. That's a lot of blood.... She brings her hand up, not having anything else of any substantive use to add, save checking for toxins. "For venom sought, beyond the pale, by will and art, I draw the veil." <halfling> Her eyes take on a pale greenish glow as she looks primarily at Carver as the potion does it's work, though as the human rises and spies her fallen partner, her eyes mist at their borders and she says, "I'm so sorry...."

GAME: Faranmidahn casts Detect Poison. Caster Level: 10 DC: 14

Fidget puts a consoling hand on Carver's arm, and glances at the slain horse, and then glances away. "Sorry... I couldn't move everyone away. Not yet anyways." she frowns and refocuses on the problem at hand, not wanting to deal with uncomfortable feelings right now (or ever?). "I...uh...is that thing what's creating the corrupted opals? Oh. Actually... we should probably make sure there aren't any opal shards left any anyone. Perhaps urgently." With a quick incantation, she starts searching her allies - and one surprisingly sturdy elf - for traces of that dark unfamiliar magic.

GAME: Fidget casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17
GAME: Fidget rolls spellcraft+4: (15)+20+4: 39

Eztli is left cross eyed and rubbing at their snout for a moment, the small makari helps carver to stand. "Glad you're okay, but uh, well." She begins saying, but the scene spoke for itself. "Sorry, Carver." Was all they could say. "Careful handling those things, we're not really in much shape to be dealing with anything else." The makari growls in Vae's direction. "But Fidget's right. If that explosion spread everything around, we should make sure there aren't any major pieces before we find that other patrol."

Aelwyn, the obsidian needled Dragoon, looks worried as he steps back and lets the others tend to Carver. He was not exactly a healer - cutting things up and being on fire was more his thing. So he relaxes when Carver gets up, kisses Eztli, and then sees what became of her mount. Leaning down, Aelwyn puts his hand on Carver's shoulder. "A great loss." The draconian says. "The skies shall mourn today." Glancing around and then towards Vae. "Are we finished in these blasted woods? Is there more to be learned?"

The wave of empathy from her fellows dulls the sharp pain, but it takes a long time for Carver to pull her eyes away from the source of the pain. Only when both Aelwyn and Fidget lay hands on either arm.No amount of hard scrubbing can hide the smudging signs of tears admist her facepaint and the blood.

"So, good news, there are no *large* shards in any of you." Fidget says, leaving the bad news obvious and unspoken, "But I think you're not likely to suffer any severe effects if we worry about that after we get out of this awful place. Unless you'd rather not take the risk and we start trying to pry things out of your wounds immediately. The magic's weird. I can't really say for sure."

With a silent prayer that the brave horse would see the wild plains of Gilead's mercy, Faran absorbs the human's despair and lowers her eyes, their arcane luminence fading.

Her attention turns with some hesitation toward Fidget's report and she rubs at a shoulder absently as she weighs her words, "If they are magical, I can help find them. I have a spell to move things withut touching them, too, if that's a concern, but it's.... not particularly strong."

Vae looks sympathetic to Carver's loss, but he can't help but comment. "...we can't tarry much longer. Whatever that was, it may well not be alone."

"Well, you're probably right, much as I don't want to admit it." Eztli sighs, taking a step back and stretching. "We'll get your horse out of here, between all of us we'll manage. Might be able to get that other group to help, too." She offers.

Aelwyn sighs and he straightens, looking at the poor horse once more. "Yes, this one is certain the brave creature can be handled." The draconian reassures, before looking over at his own wounds. Ugh, he was never going to hear the end of it.

"Let us then move on," He tells Vae, giving a nod of his head.

Vae gioves a quick nod, then quickly moves to lead the group away from the fallen horse and the area irradiated with strange onyx magical shards. He's gathered a few, yes, but he's on the move now and clearly expecting you all to follow.

Uncertainly, Fidget follows the elf, "Do you know where we're going, then?" she asks, as they head forwards. "Oh, and if you need more healing, Carver, Aelwyn, I have a little." the Goblin waves the wand she had fetched earlier, but hadn't needed. It looks like a simple healing one, for emergencies.

Aelwyn, despite his onyx misgivings, also moves with Vae. He shakes his head at Fidget, hissing. "This one is fine for now. Lest we get jumped by another damned creation, this one should be fine." Despite the fact that plenty of his scales has been replaced by shards.

With the help of the others, Eztli is at least able to get the body of the fallen steed moving aided by magic. She takes off to follow the others, keeping one ey on the forests around them, in case anything else decided to materialize within them.

With their scout missing, the other team of mixed Mythwood rangers and alexandrian mercenaries is also on the look out. It won't be too long before they're able to locate each other. That's the good news. The bad news is the wind is kicking up again -- but this time it's even *more* intense. Gathering up whatever fragments he can, plus those absolutely in Lambchop's body, Vae urges to beat a hasty retreat from the forest. A rather bad storm seems to be kicking in.