Hounds of Hell

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Log Info

  • Title: Hounds of Hell
  • GM: Dirk
  • Place: Pryde Estate, Alexandros / The Felwood
  • Summary: Lord Pryde receives the adventurers Ravenstongue, Sora, and Telamon at his fine estate, and he explains that beasts have been threatening his lands. The adventurers accept the task of slaying them, and discover that the beasts in question are a shadow mastiff and seemingly shadow-corrupted wolves. The hounds are taken down quickly, and the adventurers return to Lord Pryde victorious.

The afternoon autumn sun turns the fields to a rich buttery gold as your party approaches the Pryde Estate. Despite a somewhat worn-down and shabby appearance, there's still a stately regalness to the place. Within the fenced-in stableyards that roll on for several acres, a herd of beautiful horses amble about, idly cropping at the grasses. A pair of curious colts trot up to the fence as you approach the gate, whinnying brightly at your passage. If not for the looming presence of the Felwood about a mile away, the scene would be quite idyllic.

You're greeted at the gate by a footman in crisp livery. "You must be the adventurers His Lordship sent for," he says, sketching a brisk bow. "Please to follow me. My lord is expecting you."

You're whisked into the looming edifice of the manor house. The carpets are shabby and faded from age, and the furniture could supply a dozen antiquities shops in Alexandria. But everything is spotlessly clean, with nary a speck of dust or dirt in sight. Down a hallway you're led, the hardwood floors fairly glowing with a fresh polishing. The footman stops before a door, rapping sharply twice before opening it. "My lord. The adventurers."

The study is well appointed, if a bit on the shabby side. Rich tapestries hang from the walls, bearing the Pryde family heraldry. Bookcases filled with old volumes line the walls, and luxurious leatherbound furniture is arranged before a marble fireplace and mantel. A broad mahogany desk is set before a set of broad casement windows overlooking the stableyards. And behind that desk, idly swirling a snifter of brandy in one hand, stands Lord Pryde himself.

He turns to face you with a weary smile. He cuts quite the regal figure with his snappy hussar's uniform. Everything is crisp and polished, from the gold epaulettes on his shoulders to the red silk sash slung across his chest, glittering with dozens of medals. He steps forward, walking with the aid of an ebony cane. "Thank Daeus you've arrived," he says. "Please, do come in, my friends. Make yourself comfortable. Barnabus, some refreshments for our guests, if you please." The footman nods low. "Right away, my lord." He turns and whisks away, leaving you alone with His Lordship.

Some people don't fit into high society well... and then there's Telamon. Gliding in, dressed in a dark sleeveless longcoat over a white, long-sleeved ruffled blouse, with black trousers tucked into his well-tended boots with the silver buckles, he looks surprisingly polished for a 'adventuring layabout'. Escorting Cor'lana on his arm, he makes an elegant bow to Lord Pryde, before smiling.

"My apologies for not getting here sooner, milord. I am Telamon Atlon; will you permit me to present my fiancee, Cor'lana Lúpecyll? I wish we were here under less worrisome tidings -- with any luck, we can set things right and you can get back to the business of breeding the best horses in Alexandros again."

Sora does fit into High Society but she has long ago stepped away from all of that and tries to avoid it as best as she can. She is hard to miss as she follows along. She is fully decked out in her new mithral full plate armor, and the hilt of her greatsword standing up over her shoulder. She does follow after as they are escorted inside. She glances around a little and decides to stay standing as she is comfortable enough as she is. She considers a few thoughts that will aid her in the future that she hadn't thought of yet. "I hope that we can help you with whatever you need."

Cor'lana, meanwhile, is dressed in her finest dress--the violet gown with a low neckline to reveal her curuchuil mark on her chest and fine embroidery on the bodice that depicts a forest scene. Her long and sweeping sleeves are lined with white feathers that match those of her familiar, Pothy. She smiles genially enough to the Lord as Telamon 'presents' her, giving a curtsy to him as Telamon bows.

"It is as my fiance says. We are here to aid in your matters. Telamon and I are accomplished sorcerers." Cor'lana leaves out the more scandalous tales involving herself.

Pothy, meanwhile, just eyes the place. He is looking for high-society snacks.

Lord Pryde chuckles, a warm smile tugging up the corners of his impressive graying muttonchops. His cane taps softly against the floor as he steps forward. He offers Telamon a firm handshake, then leans down to give Cor'lana a courtly kiss to her knuckles. "Deeply honored, Master Telamon and Mistress Cor'lana." Sora is also given a warm handshake. "And you as well, young miss." It's about this time that Barnabus returns with a large tray. Slices of fresh crusty bread, cold cuts, and cheeses abound, along with a selection of fresh fruits and bowls of nuts. There's a decanter of sweet red wine to go with it. Pothy even gets his own dish of mixed nuts and bread crusts, drizzled with a touch of honey to sweeten things up.

Once you've taken whatever refreshment you desire, Lord Pryde gets straight to business. "Every night for the last tenday, now, these dread beasts have stalked my herds," he says wearily. "I employ a number of experienced woodsmen and sharpshooters, skilled with both bow and firearms, and yet not a man-jack among them has been able to bring down a single one of these things." He snorts derisively, tipping back a sip of his brandy. "My son, delinquent that he is, seems convinced that there's some sort of dark sorcery at work. Pah! Poppycock, says I. His mother used to fill his head with old wives' tales about the wicked spirits that inhabit the Felwood. But these lands have been consecrated against evil since the days of my ancestor, the first Lord Baron of our noble house."

He looks back to you all with a pleading expression. "I daren't send my woodsmen into the Felwood and leave my horses unprotected. And so I must beg you brave heroes to go into that dreadful place, seek out these beasts, and make certain they never trouble the herd again." 

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/Nature: (12)+16: 28
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/nature+4: (20)+11+4: 35
GAME: Sora rolls Knowledge/Local: (9)+3: 12
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/history+4: (14)+4+4: 22

Once refreshments are served, and the heroes are seated, Telamon listens with a furrowed brow to Lord Pryde's tale of woe. A glass of wine in hand, sipped sparingly while he takes the occasional bit of cheese or bread, as he thinks. "Truly an unfortunate turn of events. Hmmm. Usually the beasts in the Felwood are reticent to raid the surrounding environs -- mostly due to hunters with bow, firearm, and spell." He offers Lord Pryde a nod.

"The fact that they seem unfazed by your defenses is concerning. While the lycanthropes seem to have fallen back for the moment, that may be what we are seeing here." He raises a finger. "I said 'may'. Without having taken any of the beasts, we can't be certain. So..." he smiles again, calmly. Radiating confidence. "We'll just have to go deal with it, whatever 'it' is."

Cor'lana occasionally steals a sip of wine from Telamon's glass, and she nibbles on a bit of cheese, but that is the extent of her eating. Her focus is on the Lord's explanation, and there's a flicker of concern in her eyes as he mentions the Felwood.

"I... Do not wish to cause you alarm, Your Lordship," Cor'lana says in a careful measure, "but the Felwood is known for a number of things and for good reason. Yet what my fiance says is true. The creatures that are there dwell there and tend to not leave, and while I have my suspicions as to why, those might not be relevant at this time."

She clasps her hands in her lap and smiles just as genially as her fiance, letting his concluding statement serve for them both.

Sora cocks her head to the side for a moment as she listens and gets a few ideas, or at least a few rumors that come to mind She doesn't bring them up because that would be a bad idea. She nods her head as she listens to the others. "There could be any number of reasons for things to come from the Felwood." she glances at the others, "There was some talk of a cemetary that was left vandalized, could be a possible reason, but not that they would go after someone specific."

Lord Pryde nods his head to both Telamon and Cor'lana, his brows furrowing dourly. "So my people have told me," he says. "That's partly why they're so confounded by these beasts. But they do leave tracks. If any of you are woods-wise, you should be able to follow them. We just had a good rain within the last couple days. And this part of the Felwood tends towards marshy, so the ground is good and soft." He turns his attention to Sora, and his frown darkens. "Ah. Ahem. Yes. That would be my son, Timothy. I do try to keep him on the straight and narrow, but he will insist on acting out. Fancies himself a regular Master of Evil." He harrumphs, tipping back another swallow of brandy. "He nearly got one of his friends killed the last time. By Daeus, I warned the boy--if he acts up like that again, it's the military academy for him!" He looks back to the group at large. "They've only come out at night. And it's about an hour 'til sundown. If you set out now, you should be able to reach the Felwood just before dusk. It's my hope you can track these bounders to their lair and deal with them." 

Travel preparations:
GAME: Telamon casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17

After finishing your refreshments, you take your leave of Lord Pryde's study and head out of the manor. On your way out, you pass by a drawing room, where a skinny young man of maybe sixteen or seventeen sits at a table. His black hair drapes over one eye, his clothes are all black, and he wears a disgusted expression as he stares out the window towards the Felwood. He doesn't seem to be paying much mind to the tutor droning on about quadratic equations, but he certainly shares Lord Pryde's jawline and the same striking green eyes. That must be young Timmy Pryde, the so-called 'Master of Evil'. Right now, the only thing he appears to be master of is a shocking amount of hair product, very likely procured from the local Scorching Subject--any warlock or necromancer's one stop shop for all their fashion needs.

The walk out to the Felwood goes without incident. The air is crisp and cool, but not uncomfortably so. That is, of course, until you reach the glowering eaves of the wood itself. The air gains a clamminess to it, and the soft cover of fallen brown-and-gold leaves begins to turn to soggy with the dampness. The trees seem to swallow the light of the fading sun, casting the environs into a dismal gloom. You must certainly be on the right track... 

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Survival: (20)+2: 22
GAME: Sora rolls survival: (2)+12: 14
GAME: Telamon rolls survival: (12)+0: 12

Telamon glances at Sora carefully, as the trio approach the treeline. "Sora, how good is your night vision? Will you need more light?" His lips quirk. "Lana and I have less of a problem, but I really don't think we should go stumbling in blindly."

Tel flexes his fingers absently, his starry eyes narrowing as the adventurers follow the path. "Be ready. This looks like a great place to get ambushed..."

Sora nods her head, "Not great. Been meaning to try to save up for something that will let me see in the dark." she shakes her head a bit, "Or just get a sword enchant that lights up for me.." she chuckles a bit. She does pull her greatsword out and holds it in her hands.

Cor'lana's changed into more adventure-ready gear by now, her fine garment swapped out for something more accustomed for traipsing in the woods and dealing with strange beasts. Her violet eyes catch hold of something as Telamon talks.

"I've found the tracks," she says, pointing to what appears to be a set of tracks belonging to a wolf pack.

Yet the worrying thing is that one of them is larger than the others. "One of them is... bigger. And... I think that looks more like a dog track than a wolf track," Cor'lana says, inspecting the odd set of tracks some more. "Oh, but I have a scroll of Darkvision that I can cast onto you if you'd like, Sora." 

GAME: Ravenstongue used a Scroll of Darkvision.

Worrying news indeed. But the mission remains, and thanks to Cor'lana's sharp eyes, you're able to follow the tracks unerringly. Soon enough, the forest track upon which you walk widens out into a clearing. The light from the sun overhead is muted, casting deep shadows along the forest floor. The ground underfoot turns soft and mushy in places, sucking noisily at any boot unfortunate enough to encounter such a soft spot. But... there. It's hard to make out from the gloom, but you can all hear it. A low, ominous rumble, a deep basso growl. And then... "BAROOOOOOOOOOH!" The sound that explodes from that side of the thicket is icy and chilling, sending thrills of terror down your spines! 

<OOC> Dirk says, "I need Will saves from you all!"
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Will: (8)+11: 19
GAME: Telamon rolls Will: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Sora rolls will+2: (6)+4+2: 12
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d43: (12): 12
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d4: (2): 2

Battle is joined! Out of the shadows melts an inky-black shape. It looks like a wolf... but the eyes burn like emerald lanterns, and it moves with a liquid grace that is surely no part of Ea's nature. It bares ivory white fangs that gleam with a cold light as it licks its chops, growling softly.

A second wolf lopes out of the shadows, growling hungrily as it regards you with those baleful green eyes. Surely these must be the beasts of which Lord Pryde spoke! 

<OOC> Dirk says, "Sora, for the sake of keeping you in the fight, I'm going to say that you're shaken, not panicked. You're not compelled to flee, but you are at -2 to attack, damage, saves, skill checks, and ability checks for 2 rounds."
<OOC> Sora says, "ok, so can move to 6, 13 and attack the wolf at 5, 12 with power attack"
GAME: Sora rolls strike-2: aliased to finesse+3-2: (3)+13+3+-2: 17
GAME: Sora rolls powdam-2: aliased to 2d6+3+2+1+1+6-2: (6)+3+2+1+1+6+-2: 17
<OOC> Dirk says, "While that resolves, anyone with Knowledge/The Planes may roll!"
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/The Planes+2: (16)+7+2: 25
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/the planes: (9)+4: 13

Sora is shaken and it affects her, but she calls on her inner strength. She moves towards one of the wolves that she can see and gripping her mithral greatsword she smiles and dances with the blade, whipping it around and slicing deep into the wolf. She is still shaking but that wolf won't be doing anything else.

As one of the shadow wolves is felled, another melts out of the shadows, padding forward onto a bare section of the forest with a rumbling growl and a gnashing of teeth! 

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Haste. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19

A flash of recognition passes in Cor'lana's eyes as the baying ceases and the wolves begin to encroach onto the adventurers from the dark of the woods. "That's a shadow mastiff!" she announces. "It's an evil entity summoned by evil mages to hunt for them, and I think it's probably corrupted this wolf pack! If we can get to it first, maybe the wolves will leave us alone!"

That's her suggestion, anyway. It's followed up with an incantation from Cor'lana's lips and a wash of magic over her allies, quickening their movements.

Speak of the devil, and up he jumps. Or, in this case, lopes. It resembles a dog, in that it has four legs and a muzzled head with floppy ears. But this is no sweet good boi. The creature's eyes blaze like emerald suns, and its broad pads crunch the fallen foliage underneath. Where it steps, blackness seems to waft forth, leaching away color. It points its nose directly at Cor'lana and rumbles a low growl, like the grating of Stygian stones in the blackest pits of Hell. 

GAME: Telamon casts Call Lightning Storm. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20
GAME: Telamon rolls 5d10: (22): 22
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26

Telamon's starry eyes blaze with light, as the shadow canines slink out to the attack. "Wonderful. Well, let's give them a warm welcome, Lana, Sora..." He catches sight of the shifting form of the shadow mastiff as it growls at Lana, and he fixes it with a stern gaze. "You are not welcome here on Ea, beast. Even the stars revile you." He raises his hands, chanting, "Mulan seg dalhamun," his voice reverberating.

Above, visible through the trees, the night sky is coming out, blue deepening to violet. And suddenly, overhead, a disk opens in the sky, a window to deep blackness, lit by glimmering stars. And some are moving... one comes streaking down, a fiery projectile that clips the shadow mastiff with a CRACK. Punctuating Telamon's voice. "Begone!"

As the skies open up and rain down celestial fury on the mastiff, it nimbly skips to the side, letting loose a furious howl. It lacks the bone-chilling quality of before--this one is filled with malice and rage. In response, the rest of the pack bounds out of the shadows, making their way towards the adventurers with a unified snarling. It's uncanny the way they move, slinking like liquid darkness along the forest floor. And whatever otherworldy power it is that now inhabits them, it thirsts for light, color, and life. 

<OOC> Dirk says, "After this round, your shaken status will end!"
<OOC> Sora says, "will move to 6, 9 yes I know that takes an aoo from 2, but then will power attack/cleave into 2, and if hit into 3."
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18
<OOC> Dirk says, "Does that hit you?"
<OOC> Sora says, "nope, ac 26"
<OOC> Dirk says, "Okay! The shadow wolf tries to snap at your leg and only gets a mouthful of air! Roll your attack!"
GAME: Sora rolls strike+1-2: aliased to finesse+3+1-2: (13)+13+3+1+-2: 28
GAME: Sora rolls powdam-2: aliased to 2d6+3+2+1+1+6-2: (5)+3+2+1+1+6+-2: 16
<OOC> Sora says, "that is for 2, here is the strike vs 3"
GAME: Sora rolls strike+1-2-3: aliased to finesse+3+1-2-3: (5)+13+3+1+-2+-3: 17
GAME: Sora rolls powdam-2: aliased to 2d6+3+2+1+1+6-2: (7)+3+2+1+1+6+-2: 18

Sora surges forward and gets a small smile to her lips as she sees two wolves move close enough for her to pull off a fancy move. Focusing more on power than accuracy, she gets a good grip on her blade as she is still shaking a little. She moves forward and whips her greatsword around and cleaves into first one wolf and then continues to movements cleaving into a second, dropping them both as she finishes with a ready stance.

The wolves snarl and snap at Sora as she enters their combat range. But between her practiced footwork and strong armor, their shadowy fangs catch only air. With a furious howl, another of the shadow wolves advances, racing along the path towards the heroes--but not in a mindless charge. There's a malevolent intelligence in that lupine gaze as it warily tracks your movements! 

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Fireball/Persistent. Caster Level: 10 DC: 21
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+7: (5)+7: 12
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 10d6: (39): 39

A fist goes up to Cor'lana's chest to meet the feather mark there, and Cor'lana takes a breath. Her eyes glow as she murmurs the beginning of an incantation, fiery magic gathering in her hands as she spins them around and stokes the flames--

Then she shoves her arms out, and the flames jet across the sky and land in a small explosion centered on the shadow mastiff. Cor'lana blows a breath across her fingertips and she offers a little grin to Telamon. "My finest fireball yet," she says with a smile.

An agonized howl splits the air as Cor'lana's magic is made manifest. The purifying flame shears the mastiff's otherworldly corpus to flinders, leaving only the faintest wisps of shadow clinging to life. With a whimpering whine, it sinks into the shadows of the forest floor. There's a rustle of the foliage as it tries to make good its escape. But... where did it go...? 

<OOC> Dirk says, "The shadow mastiff has blended with the shadows and now has 50 concealment! And it skittered behind a tree, Telamon, so you'll have to move up to attempt to target it with another lightning bolt!"
<OOC> Telamon says, "Hmmm."
<OOC> Telamon will cast Black Tentacles centered on the point between 5 and 6.
GAME: Telamon casts Black Tentacles. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20
<OOC> Telamon says, "So, now I make le grapple check."
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+16: (9)+16: 25
<OOC> Dirk says, "That beats their CMD so they are grappled!"
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d6+4: (1)+4: 5
<OOC> Telamon says, "Five points as tentacles squeeze."
<OOC> Telamon says, "And then I will move to 5,9, behind Sora, looking for the mastiff."

Telamon chuckles at Cor'lana. "I think you got his attention." He wrinkles his nose. "Smells like... barbecued dog hair. Yeugh." Seeing two other shadow wolves stalking towards the couple, he just shakes his head. "Bad doggies. No biscuit for you." His eyes flash, and he chants, "Lirum adbar, murub," before palm-striking the bare forest floor. A ripple shoots out towards the wolves, and suddenly the forest floor is alive with grabbing, clutching tendrils, squeezing and clawing at the beasts as they yelp in surprised.

Telamon snorts, as the faint whistling of his spell can be heard. "Didn't expect that, did they? Come on, let's go find this thing and put it down." Swiftly, haste speeding his steps, he follows after Sora. 

<OOC> Telamon says, "Alright. He can make a CMB check to break the grapple. CMD for tentacles is 26."
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+2: (5)+2: 7
<OOC> Telamon says, "Yeah, he's not going anywhere."

The tentacles burst from the marshy soil and the shadow wolves are snared. Their snarls turn into panicked yelps as they flail their legs wildly. One tries to snap its jaws down on the tentacle holding it, but the rubbery surface is too smooth and its fangs can't get purchase.

Anxious to avoid its packmates' fate, one of the shadow wolves bounds forward, heading straight for Sora. But on one such bound, it seems to plunge into the shadows as if diving into an inky black lake. The foliage at her feet rustles, and she can hear the thing's growling, but... it's hard to see the thing... 

GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+2: (14)+2: 16

Meanwhile, the other shadow wolf bound up in the tentacles howls and yelps, scrabbling with its paws and snapping with its fangs to get free. But like its packmate, it cannot break free!

Another wolf bounds forward, leaping high and plunging into the shadows. This one rustles closer to where Telamon stands, growling ominously. Like its packmate, it's hard to pick out of the gloom carpeting the forest floor! 

<OOC> Dirk says, "Sora, you are no longer shaken! You can attempt to strike out at Wolf 7, but have a 20 miss chance!"
<OOC> Sora says, "will try to powerattack again cleave into 7 and if hit into 4"
GAME: Sora rolls strike+1: aliased to finesse+3+1: (2)+13+3+1: 19
GAME: Sora rolls powdam: aliased to 2d6+3+2+1+1+6: (5)+3+2+1+1+6: 18
GAME: Sora rolls strike+1-3: aliased to finesse+3+1-3: (9)+13+3+1+-3: 23
GAME: Sora rolls powdam: aliased to 2d6+3+2+1+1+6: (8)+3+2+1+1+6: 21

Sora is really in her element and she finally has started to relax, not shaking anymore. The wolf in front of her might be trying to blend in with the shadows but she dances with her blade once more. THe mithral greatsword dances around her and she slashes into the wolf in front of her and then continues on into the wolf in front of Telemon, cleaving both deep, "Careful, don't let them sneak up on ya. This is fun." she laughs a bit as she looks around for something else to hit.

The last standing wolf (that isn't being flailed about by Rubbery Black Tentacles What Come From Beyond All That Space) bares its fangs at Sora and Telamon. Its body flows down into the shadows, and it skitters away from the battle, seeking closeness with its wounded (and well done) alpha. 

<OOC> Dirk says, "Wolf 8 now has concealment!"
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Running up to 5,10. I understand both wolf 8 and mastiff have concealment, but may I target their general area with a Persistent Fireball? Using arcane sorc's Metamagic Adept to not increase the casting time of my spell if so."
<OOC> Dirk says, "That's a good question. I'm not sure how concealment works with area of effect. O.O"
<OOC> Dirk says, "If you blew up 13,3 you'd catch them both without the tree giving either one cover."
<OOC> Ravenstongue nods. I'll make the cast.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Fireball/Persistent. Caster Level: 10 DC: 21
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11
GAME: Dirk rolls 1d20+5: (12)+5: 17
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 10d6: (47): 47
<OOC> Telamon says, "*Ouch*"

Cor'lana runs up to join Telamon and Sora. Her eyes lock onto the wolf as it runs away to be with its infernal pack leader, and her fingers touch the feather mark on her skin again, the black ink shimmering subtly under her touch.

"You can run," she growls, "but the raven can fly and find you."

She sweeps her hands out again and gathers the flames within them, their intensity going even beyond that attempt from before. But before they can consume her, she unleashes them and thrusts them out into the woods.

The mastiff and the wolf that hid to be with it are incinerated. Cor'lana claps her hands together, her work very nearly done. 

<OOC> Dirk says, "Telamon! The only enemies left are being throttled by your tentacles!"
<OOC> Telamon says, "Resolving grapple first."
<OOC> Telamon says, "+5 since neither broke the grapple last round."
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+21: (17)+21: 38
<OOC> Telamon says, "OK, they take..."
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Telamon casts Fireball. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19
<OOC> Telamon says, "They save at -2 due to being grappled."
<OOC> Dirk says, "I was gonna say, a magic missile would do the trick, but what the hell, MORE EXPLOSIONS!"
<OOC> Dirk says, "They only have 1 HP left. They're cremated. XD"
GAME: Telamon rolls 10d6: (31): 31

As the tentacles inexorably crush the trapped wolves, Telamon turns his attention back to them. "I am sorry, but at least you're no longer the tools of that monster." He cups his hands, a flicker of flame appearing in them. "Ganzer, lipisbala gaz," he intones, before launching the sphere into the writhing tendrils. There's a dull boom, and a wave of heat... and then nothing, as the last two wolves are obliterated by the fiery explosion.

Telamon sighs, straightens his shirt, and says, "Well... that wasn't such a chore, now was it?"

Sora cocks her head to the side as she looks around. There don't seem to be any apparent targets so she pulls a cloth from her waist and starts to keep the blade of her great sword, "It was fun, more fun than I have had in a while." she says while making sure the blade is clean.

With that last massive explosion of arcane fury, the last of the shadow wolves is no more. The clearing is silent, save for the smoldering of foliage that slowly crisps with the final licking flames dancing on the floor. The stink of burnt fur and cooked meat mingles with rotting leaves and mildewy mud. But the pack is defeated, and the otherworldly alpha that had corrupted it. Though the shadow mastiff dissipated when its life force was compromised, you're able to take enough tokens from the shadow wolves to prove your kill (although some are more well cooked than others).

And so you take your leave of the Felwood. As you pass out of the eaves of the forest, the oppressive gloom gives way to the clean coolness of an autumn night. Elune rises in a bright silvery-gold crescent, a serene smile upon the work you have done this evening. Half an hour later, you make your triumphant return to the Pryde estate. Barnabus the footman whisks you back into His Lordship's presence.

And His Lordship is as you found him, ensconced in his study. Gazing out of his window across his stableyards as he indulges in his evening cigar and brandy. The tokens you present to him bring a wide smile to the doughty old baron, and he is full of effusive praise. "By Daeus, smashing work! Oh, I wish I could have been there myself! Damn this rum leg of mine! Please, tell all, I want to hear everything!"

And so you regale Lord Pryde with the tale of your encounter. He listens with rapt fascination, taking in every detail. When the tale is finished, he drums his cane on the floor. "Bravo! Tremendous! You fine heroes have done my household a great service, and it shan't be forgotten!"

At some point during the tale-telling, a shadow had darkened the door of Lord Pryde's study. Why, if it isn't young Timmy himself, staring sullenly into the room. The baron catches sight of his son and chortles amusedly. "Hah! How do you like that, my lad? So much for your Minions of Evil! They fall just like all the rest!" Timmy rolls his eyes and snorts. "Gawds. Whatever," he says before turning to flounce away. Lord Pryde shakes his head, looking back to the group of you. "I do apologize. I raised him better than that. But! You've all more than earned your coin this day. If you aren't keen on traveling back to Alexandria at night, you're more than welcome to lodge here!" 

<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Dirk, any chance RT can catch up with little Timmy as he walks off and give him a little verbal dressing-down?"
<OOC> Dirk says, "Sure!"
<OOC> Telamon grins!
<OOC> Telamon hands Sora a bucket of popcorn.
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Intimidate: (7)+16: 23

Cor'lana watches Timmy walk off, her head turning as he turns around. "Hmm," she says quietly to herself. "Excuse me for a moment, Your Lordship."

She goes to catch the little lordling as he walks out and happens to do so in a narrow hallway. She smiles genially, her hands clapping together in front of her. "Timmy, was it? You may call me Cor'lana Lúpecyll," she says, but doesn't let him stop to interject or say anything to her introduction. "Timmy, I understand that you're looking for an outlet for your magic capabilities. And honestly, I understand. Really. I do. It must be dreadful to be a lord's son and have to live up to his expectations, and then to have all of this magic potential that he won't take seriously."

She smiles a little sweetly. "Which is why I think you should stop mucking about with entities in the Felwood," she says. "You may think it's not a big deal. I mean, you're not summoning demons yet. You're not bargaining your soul. But let me tell you something."

Cor'lana leans in and stage-whispers. "Timmy, there are things in that woods that will steal your name. They will feed you food tastier than anything your servants can bring you and then nothing will ever taste good ever again. They will make you dance with them until your shoes fall apart and the skin on your toes begins to blister and bleed. They will rip the heart out from your chest and make you watch, only for them to reveal it was an illusion and to make you beg for your life and liberty back. You will wish and beg and whimper for death itself to take you, and they won't answer."

She pulls back, still smiling. "Really. I beg you to reconsider. Don't fuck with the Felwood."

And she turns around and rejoins Telamon and the Lordship.

Telamon has casually ambled out after Lana, and watches with a small smile as she steps up to little Timmy, and proceeds to verbally tear strips off the boy. As his fiancee stalks past, he clears his throat, before approaching the frozen lad. Leaning close, so he can meet the boy's eyes. "I know life can be difficult, especially when you're this age. But you really should reconsider some of your choices. We've had to face people who gained power only to have it take them down a very, very bad path indeed."

This close, Timmy can see Telamon's eyes -- dark and full of stars, tiny portals to endless night skies. "I'm not saying you shouldn't pursue the Art as a profession. But I do think you better find more... constructive ways to do it." He pats the boy's shoulder. "And stop shopping at Scorching Subject, for gods' sake. Let me assure you, as someone who knows from personal experience: every girl is crazy for a sharp-dressed man."

And with that, he ambles back to make his goodbyes to Lord Pryde with a grin.

Lord Pryde nods his head to Cor'lana. "Of course, my lady, my house is your house." He looks back to Telamon and Sora, pouring out fresh glasses of brandy and offering them a toast. "Here's to your health, my friends! Thanks to you, my herds are safe. Come the spring, the new foals will be able to head to market, and Alexandria will have a new generation of fine steeds!"

Timmy is easily cornered in the hallway. He stares sullenly at Cor'lana's boots, snorting softly. "Yeah, whatever. My dad owns a stableyards," he mutters belligerently. "But you know what? He doesn't know what real power is. He doesn't understand me. Well I don't need him. Someday, I'm gonna be the one in charge, and he'll have to do what I say."

But whatever power fantasies he might have had, young Timmy had never considered just how dreadful the fey powers could be. How horrific they are in their alien nature, so far removed from Ea's comforting familiarity. Beauty great enough to stop a man's heart, or shatter his sanity. Caprice more unruly and unpredictable than the lords of madness that dwell in their eldritch realm between the stars. His lower lip quivers as Cor'lana whispers to him, and he takes a step back. He huffs and snorts a few times, balling up his fists. "You don't scare me, lady," he says. Oh yes she does. Telamon's addition to the conversation (especially his critique of Timmy's fashion choices), has him narrowing his eyes. "I'll show you. Someday, I'll show you all!" He turns and flounces away, trundling up to his room and slamming his door. A moment later, the sound of an orchestrion being cranked can be heard, followed by the cacaphonous squalling of oruch 'metal music'.

Down in the study, Lord Pryde draws a pull from his cigar, scowling dourly through the puff of smoke as he looks up at the ceiling. "Daeus defend me, again with that sodding racket! BARNABUS!" The ever-ready footman pokes his head in the study door. "On it, my lord!" Lord Pryde shakes his head with a sigh. "I don't know where that boy gets it. He certainly didn't learn such appalling behaviour from me," he grumbles.

Though the use of His Lordship's guest rooms is offered generously, you're all quite capable of seeing yourselves safely back to Alexandria. And so you take your leave of the Pryde estate, heading for home. Behind you, the faint sound of a fist thudding against a door intermingles with teenage angst. "IT'S NOT A PHASE DAD!..."

OOC

Sequel to http://www.tenebraemush.net/index.php/Minions_of_Evil

Map:

https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mwsmtt8i0tp

<OOC> Dirk says, "Shaded squares are bare forest floor--that is standard terrain. Any unshaded square is muddy ground covered in soggy wet leaf cover, and counts as difficult terrain. The brown circles are trees and break line of sight."

Playlist:

His Lordship's Study: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZcTnkja6Sg

The Felwood: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_Z1Ck05cfM&t=346s

Battle music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0eikUD1HWbg

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