With Jealousy, Part 3

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Log Info

  • Title: With Jealousy, Part 3
  • Emitter: Ravenstongue
  • Place: Thornhall Manor - Outskirts of the Mythwood
  • Summary: Aryia, Auranar, Dolan, Lysos, Seyardu, and Telamon are led into Thornhall Manor by the old wild elf servant. There they are met with a gruesome sight: Kaaran'taara, the half-elf man who helped abduct Ravenstongue, lounging in a chair as the former serving staff of Lady Ainasse dine on the horses that came with the wagon he rented to go from Alexandria to the Mythwood. He proposes a deal to the rescuer party: if they let him occupy Lady Ainasse's manor with his 'friends', he'll let them walk into the room where Lady Ainasse is keeping Ravenstongue captive.

The rescue group rejects the necromancer's offer. Aryia and Telamon lock down the necromancer and prevent him from escaping while Lysos and Seyardu blast the zombies with fire and holy divinity. Dolan defends the casters like an unbreakable wall with Daeus's blessings, and Auranar alternates between healing Dolan and concentrating her magic into burning zombies all while overcoming the horrifying situation.

Telamon and Seyardu enter the other room where Ainasse is holding Ravenstongue and witness the dawn elf woman trying to stab Ravenstongue--but watch as Glorenacil, Ravenstongue's father, takes the hit instead, resulting in Ainasse seemingly snapping as she stabs him over and over again, breaking down and explaining her reasoning for all of this when prompted. Seyardu manages to convince the group to spare Karan'taara and Ainasse, although Aryia still takes the opportunity to rearrange Karan'taara's face.

Ravenstongue is healed of the effects of feeblemind, and expresses her teary gratitude to her friends as she's safe and sound. All is well.

  • Encounter 1 - CR11 (13600 XP):
    • (20) Fast Zombie (CR 1/2, 200 ea)
    • (1) Undead Creator (CR 10, 9600 ea) - modified for spell selection/school selection/racial abilities

Content warning: body horror and some gore/gruesome imagery. Please read with care.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Aryia                4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her.                      
Auranar              4'8"     123 Lb     Wild Elf          Female    A wild elf with dark skin and a red dress              
Dolan                5'10"    174 Lb     Human             Male      Brown-haired human with scars down his face.                              
Lysos                5'6"     105 Lb     Human/Tsuran      Female    Dark eyed tsuran girl.                      
Seyardu              5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.                   
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Ainasse Son'doriel   5'4      110 Lb     Dawn Elf          Female    A blonde dawn elf with green eyes and a haughty expression.
Glórenacil           5'7"     120 Lb     Wild Elf          Male      A gaunt-looking wild elf man with violet eyes.                 
Karan'taara          5'6"     139 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A dark-haired half-sil with emotionless blue eyes.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  As the GM  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.  
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Precasted spells:
GAME: Telamon casts Mirror Image. Caster Level: 8 DC: 18
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d4+2: (4)+2: 6
GAME: Dolan casts Shield of Faith. Caster Level: 3 DC: 14
GAME: Lysos used a Wand of Mage Armor.
GAME: Aryia spends TWO points of KI POOL.

The old wild elf woman with the white eyepatch leads you into the manor.

Despite its appearance from the outside, the inside tells a much different story. What should be a fine manor with marble stone and elven knotwork carved lovingly into wooden panels on the walls is instead a grim story that slowly unwinds as the old woman leads the group through the halls: furniture toppled over and destroyed, paintings torn and slashed, curtains torn apart and left to hang limply from the walls like suggestions of ghosts. An errant breeze howls in through a broken window here in there, bringing the chill of the forest night in with the wind.

The sounds of groaning and the night breeze gets closer the more time it takes to walk into the manor. "The Lady is desperate," the old woman says quietly as she rounds a corner, her sole brown eye always fixed straight ahead. "I have known her since she was young, and she has tried for years to have a child: to the point where she had an affair with her first husband's brother and had her first husband killed when he was no longer useful for her ambitions--and it's become clear that it's not the plow but the fields that is the issue. That's why she took up with this young man who appeared before her as of late: he promised he could make her able to bear children so long as she brought him a young woman."

She stops at a set of doors and looks at the group. The sound of groaning people comes from the other side. "I shouldn't speak more," she says, looking at the group of people before her--her eyes settling again on Dolan and Auranar, then Lysos, and then finally Aryia, Seyardu, and Telamon. "Please--just remember my request."

The old woman pushes open the doors.

Decaying bodies, flesh burnt and flayed, tear apart at chunks of flesh and meat that have been pulled apart from creatures of some sort--the air thick with the scent of blood and fresh meat as twenty of these animated bodies participate in their unholy feast. Lounging in a chair overlooking the undead is the man from the scrying: a half-sil man with short black hair, a grin plastered on his face that doesn't reach his blue eyes as he offers the group a wave.

"Well, hello!" he crows, standing up and giving a flourished bow. "I'm so very happy to see the little rescue group that's come around. I was beginning to get rather bored watching my friends feast on the beasts I brought them. Shame I won't get back the deposit on the wagon, but you have to feed the crowd, you know?"

The man claps his hands together. "Alas, let's get to the business, shall we? I suspect you want me dead. I'd quite like to be alive, so how about I make an offer: let me have the manor here to myself and my friends, and you get to go right through those doors over there--" He gives a lazy wave to another set of doors. "--and you get to do whatever you like to my employer, save your little lady, and we all get to be happy. Hmm? Quite frankly, I had my fun with Lady Ainasse already, so I think this is a rather generous offer on my behalf."

A full flash of brilliant white teeth spreads across his face. "Are those terms agreeable to all?"

Meat identification checks
GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/nature+2: (8)+10+2: 20
GAME: Telamon rolls intimidate+5: (9)+19+5: 33
GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (13)+29: 42
GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (4)+9: 13
GAME: Auranar rolls perception: (13)+5: 18

Telamon was caught off guard by the old woman's remarks -- how they were expected. But the groans galvanize him, and as the group enters the mansion he gestures nimbly, "I'iz mete gantir," he breathes, and then... the air around him flickers, afterimages that suddenly snap into focus and apparent solidity. Six more striding Telamons, his platinum hair flowing around his face, eyes glowing with the light of distant stars.

When the doors swing open, though, he recoils slightly, the images all showing the same disgust at the display. But then the man speaks, and Tel grinds his teeth. Fixing the man with a terrible expression, he rasps, "RUN." His voice has a reverb in it like nothing human.

"Why do I have a bad feeling like this?" Lysos asks of no one in particular with a voice quiet enough to easily go unnoticed as she follows inside. The old woman, she doesn't entirely trust.. particularly with how she was waiting there. But groans coming from within, the revealed state of the interior.. as they traverse through the ransacked rooms and halls, she briefly draws a slim, simple wand from one of her pockets, invoking its magic and then returning it.

And then the true ugly is revealed. "That's why I have a bad feeling about this," she says, and promply turns to the side and emptys what little she had in her stomach. Trail rations and the like. Hyurk.

Aryia huffs as she leaves the wagon behind, her rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck as a numbness suffuses her skin, eyes growing brighter as she pulls her shades off to rest on her collar. She glances to the old elf, her frowning a bit and grinding her teeth before stepping off to follow the group.

The can't can't help but gag as the air slaps her in the face, her shoving her nose into the crook of her arm. Her brows furrow further as tension rises with Telamon threatening word.

She glances around, throat bobbing as she pops individual knuckles on her fingers. Each snap making a series of tessellating silver lines go across her face and hands. She was sure of herself, and that wouldn't change no matter what foul twistings they used.

"Horse tastes gross," she gestures with hands that start to glimmer moonlight. <Handspeech>

Dolan had started when the woman brought him up - he'd figured on going unnoticed. Not so, and when the others begin casting spells, he opts for a simple prayer as he brings up the rear. "Holy Knight, lend me your shield." A golden-daylight glow forms around him, suffuses him for a moment, and winks out - or simply goes unseen.

With that, he loosens the blade at his back in its sheath. It's not until he sets eyes on the unholy feast happening that he fully hardens into iron, the light ripping across twisted features and glinting off of the topaz gem that serves him as an eye. "No," he tells Telamon, even as his insides twist at the sight of the slaughter. "That's too good for him. Let him answer for this."

GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+4+5: (4)+4+5: 13 (Heavenly Fire tar: Karan'taara, +5 Heroic Leeway bonus)
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d4+1: (4)+1: 5

Auranar is not the adventurer that many in this room are. She has not had a chance to witness terribly many of the horrors that this world has to offer and for a moment... Her mind tries not to see what is before her. The bodies make no sense to her. She can't tell what they're eating. Then she sees it and the horror of that knowledge, and the wish to never know with certainty fills her with total dread.

The wild elf might not have lost control of her stomach but... Some things you can not help. She finds herself being utterly sick off to Telamon's side. Shame rolls over her like a wash of heat and tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. THESE WERE PEOPLE ONCE!

Auranar gasps from the her hunched-over position on the floor and holds her hand out toward the people and their terrible feast. Water streams down her face. She remembers heat like a distant memory. The smell of blood. The feeling of utter hopelessness. She hears Telamon rasp out the word run but she's screaming through it in horror. Holding out her palm in denial and releasing the horror in her mind through an act that MUST purify this sight before her eyes. There's no words. Just emotion. Just the light pouring out of her.

Seyardu was quietly wandering further into the manor, stopping a few times to sniff at the air and cough. "The air is disgusting here." The sith-makar states before continuing on into the rest of the room, after giving a short prayer to the gods.

And then they reached the room where the source of the sounds and stench were. The sith-makar watched as they explained himself, and others spoke. The silver sith-makar chuffs. "You do realize that you are currently sitting in a room filled with undead, and willingly either assisted with, or helped perpetrate a kidnapping, yes?" Seyardu asks. "You will not be allowed to run, and you will not get far. Allow yourself to be restrained, and for these poor souls to be laid to the rest which they return, and we will allow you to not die on this day, and instead face justice in the city. But if you think, that a cleric of Althea would let you stay here after what you have been a part of and turn a blind eye, you are sorely mistaken."

GAME: Seyardu casts Bless. Caster Level: 13 DC: 17
GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+13: (9)+13: 22 (caster level check vs Aryia; Aryia is unaffected by bless)

There's a brief flicker of something in the half-elf man's eyes as Telamon bellows at him, followed up by Auranar's scream and an unleashing of light from the wild elf's hand that gives him a visible burn mark where it hits him--square across the face, where it singes his skin. He snarls as he's wounded, and that grin turns to an incredibly displeased grimace--just as it had in the scrying with Cor'lana in the carriage.

"Ohhhh, how I hate it when people don't do as I ask," he growls, putting a hand to his cheek to touch his newly scored wound. "Fine then. I'll let them tear you all from limb to limb!"

He snaps his fingers and the undead snap to attention...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ATTENTION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

	Ravenstongue has dropped a TIMESTOP!

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL. (Abundant Step)
GAME: Aryia rolls grapple: aliased to : (17)+19+2+2: 40

Aryia's expression flutters as she feels the blessing of Althea wash over her... then slough off as the silver lines ward off the magic. She was the epitome of balance, nothing harmful, nothing helpful. A glance is stolen towards Aura, surprise crossing her visage at the light pouring out of her, but she was going to have to stay focused to nip this in the bud.

A snarl cross crosses her lips as she crouches down, then rushes forward in a dead sprint. Right as she gets to the pack of undead, she vanishes in an after image. She appears briefly in the air, then slides to a halt next to the gross half-sil. Glowing hands snap out and wrench and arm over her shoulder, twisting it painfully and threatening to pop it from a socket.

GAME: Lysos casts Fire Snake. Caster Level: 10 DC: 22
GAME: Lysos rolls 10d6: (41): 41
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (12)+2: 14 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (11)+2: 13 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (18)+2: 20 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (19)+2: 21 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (15)+2: 17 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (9)+2: 11 (zombie save, fail)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+2: (11)+2: 13 (zombie save, fail)

Lysos retches again, wiping her sleeve across her mouth. "No," she chokes, wrestling with her fear, unaware of Aryia's dimension stepping charge. She struggles back to her feet, gathering power as she grapples with the horrific scene she witness. Gathering more power than she has dared before. With it comes confidence.. and artificial, dangerous confidence, perhaps. The fear is channeled, a fear bordering upon anger. An anger at her weakness. An anger at the smug confidence of this Karan'taara. When she turns to face the gruesome display again, her eyes flicker as though a small flame lived within them. Flames that wreath her arms and her hands. "Flamblazek." It's not shouted, not screamed. Just a word. And the flames slip free of their shackles, darting out as a deadly ribbon that winds its way around allies and through several of the feasting undead, burning and melting their unholy flesh where they stand.

GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+10: (5)+7+10: 22 (tar: zombie, Power Attack/Furious Focus +10 Heroic Leeway)
GAME: Dolan rolls 2d6+5+2: (9)+5+2: 16

Dolan's flesh eyes goes as wide as a saucer at the spell that the unassuming Lysos brings forth, and he turns his entire face towards her in wonder. "Remind me not to fuck with you!" he shouts, the leather harness holding the greatsword hitting the marble floor. Seeing the opening her spell has created, he cuts loose with a wild swing that in any other situation, would be unlikely to hit. In this target-rich environment, that's another story, and the six-foot blade slashes clean through the frontmost of the burnt zombies that are left. "I'll hold 'em off!"

GAME: Telamon casts Black Tentacles. Caster Level: 8 DC: 20
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+13: (10)+13: 23 (grapple check; fails vs Aryia, succeeds vs Karan'taara)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d6+4: (4)+4: 8

Telamon is beyond rage at this point. There's a small part of him cautioning him, but he knows Aryia. He knows her skill, when she fought the demon wearing her sister's flesh. And he knows this bastard has to go. He begins to chant, "Lirum adbar murub." The air around his hand flickers, and the scent of oranges and charcoal cuts through the charnel scent of the hall.

Then Tel strikes the floor, and there's a ripple, like the fabric of reality just got a quick shake. It flickers across to where Aryia holds Karan in her unyielding grasp, and then...

There's a strange tearing sound, and suddenly there's things burrowing out of the floor, impossibly. Long, clutching silver and black tendrils, weaving and questing and grasping. They wrap around Karan's leg and arm, squeezing and crushing painfully, while Aryia deftly balances on one like a fencepost. Far off, briefly, a whistling voice can be heard: 'Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!'.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23 (Karan'taara grapple escape check, fails)
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+10: (11)+7+10: 28 (AoO versus zombie, +10 from Heroic Leeway, hits)
GAME: Dolan rolls 2d6+5: (4)+5: 9 
GAME: Dolan rolls 2d6+5: (8)+5: 13 (free reroll)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (7)+4: 11 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (7)+4: 11 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (10)+4: 14 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)

Karan'taara, the half-elf, grimaces and yelps as he's grappled by Aryia, trying and failing to find purchase on her and push her off of him. "Sh-Sh-Shit!" he yelps, the charisma and smug air that was coming off of him before quickly unwinding off his face-especially as Telamon's tentacles find purchase on his form and begin to tear at him.

The zombies, meanwhile, are seemingly affected by their controller's unwinding state. One of them mindlessly tries to zip past Dolan, earning him a quick and fortunate cutting-down as the Redeemer of Daeus tears down the zombie before it reaches his allies.

Others try to grab at Dolan, tearing at the Redeemer's armor and clawing at him--but only one strike manages to break through.

GAME: Auranar rolls will: (19)+4: 23 (character check)
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d4+1+5: (3)+1+5: 9 (heavenly fire, +5 Heroic Leeway)

Auranar breathes, the stink of fire filling her nose, but the sound of combat doesn't quite match and... She's not helping like this. Out of control. Flinging her magic wildly. She swallows the fire that burns through her body back inside and the white light flinging forth from her hand becomes a nimbus around her.

One look around the battlefield tells Auranar that Dolan needs her aid. Needs her in control. She checks herself, moves around to the side she is certain he can see her from. (She's never asked about the prostetic, how good it is, if he's comfortable with it, with being approached from that side and she feels a moment of brief regret for the terrible friend she is.) Then she's behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder and pushing the holy light into him to heal the wounds that he just recieved. "Lay them to rest Dolan." She's layered in tears. "Please."

GAME: Seyardu rolls 7d6: (22): 22 (Channel Energy damage, DC 20)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (3)+3: 6 (zombie save, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (18)+3: 21 (zombie save, passes)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (5)+3: 8 (zombie save, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (10)+3: 13 (zombie save, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (20)+3: 23 (zombie save, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (10)+3: 13 (zombie save, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+3: (17)+3: 20 (zombie save, passes)

Seyardu watched as the others moved to deal with the undead, and the man had his arm pinned behind him. Seyardu reaches for her holy symbol, and holds it aloft, the blood stained stone emanating divine magic which caused several of the remaining zombies to crumple to the ground, magics undone.

"Do not forget why we are here, still." The sith-makar states as she runs to the door,standing in front of it and not opening for the time being, not wishing for any of the remaining undead to slip past her at the time. "And you there, you are not getting away. You can give up and allow yourself to be captured, or you will be knocked out and captured. The choice is in your hands."

GAME: Aryia rolls grapple+5: aliased to : (16)+19+2+2+5: 44 (grapple check vs Karan'taara, succeeds)

Aryia gasps lightly as there's tentacles coming out of the ground. She hops up and balances atop one, gaining leverage over the necromancer as her foot joins her hands and wrenches him into an even more painful and locked up position.

She casts her gaze over the field, a shining beacon from her hands illuminating the area in moonlight. Her brows rise high as she sees Seyardu annihilate the undead, and she's reassured as the others are helping one another stay together and, well. Together. In one piece.

She does scowl at Seyardu. Her hands were busy so she can't say, 'what about option three where I snap his neck?'

GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+10: (13)+7+10: 30 (Power Attack, Furious Focus, +10 Heroic Leeway)
GAME: Dolan rolls 2d6+5: (10)+5: 15

Suddenly, this zombie horde looks a good bit more surmountable as his companions' magic tears through them, and Dolan shoots a grateful look glance back at Auranar, and tosses her a, "Thanks!", then turns around and presses the attack, one of the two remaining zombies crumpling in the face of a massive blow from the greatsword.

After being abandoned by the flames Lysos staggers, her eyes rolling back so that, for a brief moment, eyes show only white. She stumbles backwards, a blind, flailing arm the only thing keeping her from falling outright as her fingers close upon an overturned, ruined chair's leg. Even with that, she goes to a knee, her skin pale and her breathing quick and shallow.. her eyes dark once again, but unfocussed.

GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+13: (10)+13: 23 (grapple check vs Karan'taara, succeeds)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9 (tentacle damage)
GAME: Telamon rolls wisdom: (15)+0: 15 (character check)

The silvery-black tentacles lose their grip on Karan, but all too soon they wrap around him again. Inexorably, twisting and squeezing and clenching like a swarm of pythons. Aryia, of course, is nimbly balancing from one to another, and one might almost swear the tentacles were confused, grabbing at her but never quite connecting.

Meanwhile, Tel snaps out of his rage at Seyardu's words. "Dammit... you're right. Keep them busy!" He races over with Seyardu, grabbing the door handle. His afterimages catch up to him, and he throws the door open...

There's a commotion as the door is opened.

"Damn it all. Damn it all!" a woman's voice snarls from the other side. It belongs to a blonde woman dressed in tattered gray robes unbecoming of her station as she clutches the hilt of her dagger tightly in her manicured and pristine hands, her pale arms trembling. Her green eyes are wide with rage, green with jealousy as they stare holes through the unconscious body of Cor'lana, who is strapped against the wall to what seems to be a repurposed table for a macabre affair. A wild elf man with blank violet eyes looks at Cor'lana with a gaze that is equally as empty, red hair tumbling down his shoulders in a frizzy and unkempt fashion.

It is safe to assume this woman is Lady Ainasse. "You fucking brat. You had to ruin everything for me even when you're inept and drooling! If I can't have what I want, I might as well--"

Whatever the rest of Lady Ainasse's thought was turns into incoherent and screaming rage as she lunges forward--but her dagger sinks into the chest of the wild elf that had been staring blankly at Cor'lana. The redheaded man gurgles quietly for a moment, and Lady Ainasse even seems stunned with what she's done--

Until her face contorts with rage again as she takes the knife and plunges it over and over into the man's chest a few more times, the blade eventually slipping and cutting her own hand as it falls to the floor.

Lady Ainasse Son'doriel turns to Telamon, her green eyes churning with emotions as she stares him down. "What, then? Come to end my existence?" she snarls. "Kill the villainess, save the girl, go home heroes? Go ahead and do it."

Her last statement is bitter as they come. "I should have always known it would end like this."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+11: (18)+11: 29 (spellcasting check, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d20+4: (2)+4: 6 (zombie attack tar: Dolan, miss)

Karan'taara tries to cast something despite the very painful way his limbs are now arranged, trying to eek out some sort of spell--but the pain is too much, Aryia's configuration of his limbs too painful to focus on spellcasting.

The zombie tries to ineffectually attack Dolan and fails, flailing at him. The last survivor isn't doing a great job at a last stand.

GAME: Auranar rolls 1d20+4-4+10: (5)+4+-4+10: 15 (heavenly fire, +10 from Heroic Leeway)
GAME: Auranar rolls 1d6: (1): 1

The wild elf gasps as the power of the flames leave her. She's exhausted. Unused to channeling so much energy but the fight is not yet done. She steps back from the zombie and makes another complex motion with her fingers. Arcane words flowing from her lips. Concentrate! The power flows through her body and unmakes the zombie before her.

Not for a second did she forget why they were there, but she is holding onto Dolan, her eyes swimming with the effort of standing in this place. Amid these burned and torn bodies. The poor... "We... Have to help Cor'lana!" She reminds herself of this forcefully, and she nods once to Dolan. Thanks for standing between her and the enemy.

GAME: Seyardu casts Breath of Life. Caster Level: 13 DC: 21
GAME: Seyardu rolls 5d8: (19): 19

Seyardu moved to the side as Telamon opened the door, putting herself between the entrance and the remaining undead just in time to catch the last of the words as Lady Ainasse skewers the man. The sith-makar steps into the room, and kicks the dagger to one of the far corners of the room. "You just killed your husband." The sith-makar states simply, taking the holy symbol and shoving it against one of the many wounds. "Explain yourself. I will not kill you if I do not have to. But you should explain what has led to this situation, if not shadows in your heart."

"By the will of the celestial mother and my hand, mend these wounds which have ended this one, and spark the flickering embers back to the fires of life." she prays quickly, causing the stab wounds to mend and close. "We came to rescue Ravenstongue, that is all."

GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+10+10: (7)+10+10: 27 (caster level check vs Telamon's Black Tentacles, succeeds)
GAME: Lysos casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20

Aryia can't see what's going on, with the tentacles and everything obscuring her view. She reaches behind her into her bag, yanking out a coil of rope and tying the necromancer up with at least four different sailing knots. Unceremoniously, she drops him to the ground, steps over him, and cracks her knuckles. Little sparkles of light waft from her fingers.

"You're lucky the Althean is here or you'd be fucking dead," she gestures threateningly. "Still can't mean I can't give you payback for fucking with my friend's brain noodle. Prepare to eat through a tube." <Handspeech>

Lysos tries to struggle to her feet... all she manages is to lean forward and not fall forward. But the room is coming back into focus. The zombies are... gone. Burning, vaporized, cut into pieces. Karan'taara looks more than dealt with, bound up in what has to be an uncomfortable position. People are gone. Too much to try and grasp at the moment. Doing her best to keep her stomach from heaving again, she fixates on the summoned tentacles. Not even sure if they were there to help or not. So she touches a rune stitched into her dress, then waves her hand towards them.. they ripple, then fade, echoing "Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li" as they disappear.

And, just like that, it's over. Dolan lowers his blade, breathing hard and looking around for the others, once the zombies have fallen silent. Aryia's got the half-elf pinned, and he eturns to face Auranar more fully. "I didn't realize you could do that," he tells her simply. "Either of you," he adds, turning his head towards Lysos.

Auranar smiles slightly at Dolan's comment, embarrassed really that he thought anything of her efforts. Yet... She did help. She nods low to him. "Not half as impressive as the way you weild that blade of yours. Sometimes I wish for such skill, but I have my Art." She slides closer to the door then, trying to get a view of what's going on inside. She doesn't recognize anyone inside, but it seems that everyone else knows one another. She does however notice Cor'lana more than anything. "Does she need healing?"

Lady Ainasse's mouth quivers a little as she stares down both Telamon and Seyardu as they're in the room with her. She doesn't, however, look at her husband as he's being healed.

"You don't get it. None of you get it," she says almost quietly. "None of you were born into a noble house like mine. I was my father's chessboard pawn to be used as he liked in his little game, just a marriage pawn to marry off like my sisters and to push out children for our noble house--and so he married me off to an adventurer that he owed a favor to. I didn't get a say. I just was supposed to nod and smile. And I was supposed to never have any ambitions of my own."

Her voice gains volume and speed as her hands tremble, bleeding from her self-inflicted wound from her frenzied attack on her husband. "I had a plan. I had a plan--if I had my own child, if I could get back into the favor of my house, if I could betrothe them to the next in line for the throne even though they'd be cousins... If I could depose Her Majesty... my child would be there, but too young to rule. I'd be regent--and then I'd be... I'd be Queen. Payment for everything I've ever suffered."

She puts her own bloodied hands to her face. "My father's belittling words, no one, nothing--I just needed a child. A child! Neither Vailevan nor that pathetic man Glórenacil could give me one. And once the whole sordid deal with the Feathered One was taken care of, I tried... But failed. Failed, failed, failed... Failure..."

She slumps down to the ground, pawing at her face and getting more of her blood and her husband's blood on her cheeks. "That girl, Cor'lana... How is it fair she gets everything she wanted? How is it fair? I want her to die, I want her to..."

Her words turn into sobs as she just finally burrows her face into her hands, the villainess unraveling.

Telamon looms over Ainasse, his hand raised. For a long moment, the world seems to hold its breath, because it's clear all Telamon wants to do is annihilate this... creature. But... then his eyes flicker, and he looks to his unconscious, battered lady. His Cor'lana. And... his hand drops.

"To hell with you, 'Lady Ass'," he growls. "All you had to do was leave us alone." He simply walks away from the sobbing, deranged noblewoman, to Lana, and gently begins to remove the bindings and restraints. "Come on, darling," he murmurs, "It's going to be okay. We're going to fix you up, and then we're going home."

He sees droplets of water hitting her tattered dress, and then he realizes he's weeping too. "It's going to be okay," he repeats, touching her face.

Meanwhile, in the main room.

There's a distinctive sound of punching, followed by flashes up brilliant light coming from the mute mul'neissa.

>Crunch< >Smack< >Stomp<

A face is being rearranged.

Carry on.

With the man healed, Seyardu stands and moves to the other side of the room, picking up the dagger and putting it into her bag. "Perhaps Althea could tell your intentions. I said it before without thinking, but I can say it again now with certainty Lady Ainasse, that you do not deserve a child. After everything you went through, why would you act the same way? Why would you subject a child to go through what you seem so bitter about? Instead of growing from your situation, you would do the exact same thing, make someone feel as you did for your own gain. You always could have left. When I could not agree with everything my father did or stopped, that is what I did. You are obsessed with chasing what you feel you deserve, but do nothing to deserve anything better than this. What did you gain from stabbing your husband? It was just lashing out in the moment out of frustration, either with yourself or others."

Seyardu kneels down, and places one hand on Ravenstongue's shoulder. "Be healed by the grace of the Celestial mother, and let the miasma around your mind clear." Seyardu offers in prayer again, before stepping away. "I can do so for the father as well, but I would save it for the time being, in case the man in the room away from here tries anything."

>blink<

"It seems he tried something. I had hoped he would know better."

GAME: Seyardu casts Heal. Caster Level: 13 DC: 22

Lysos gives up trying to regain her feet when she hears, then sees Dolan. So not everyone's gone. She slumps down and sits, hopefully avoiding anything gory, while she listens to and then watches Auranar move away. "Stars.. I didn't know if I could actually do that," she admits to Dolan. "Feel like I've been pulled through a wringer." And then Aryia begins with... the punishment. It cactches Lysos's attention enough to glance.. but then she's looking away. She sees nothing.

Cor'lana looks up at Telamon as he tends to her. There's a glassy, far-away look in her violet eyes, like she's not here--not nearly the same look that she usually gives him when he holds her, which is yet another thing that's been taken from him. A poetic mind would say she's flying with the ravens, a hope that she might not remember anything she's endured since the carriage ride.

But a couple of seconds later, she looks at Tel. She's looking, finally seeming to register that the man holding her is a friend.

And she murmurs something incoherently as a tear rolls down her cheeks.

Seyardu's magic takes its hold onto her, however, and the light comes back to her eyes. She looks up at Telamon far more readily and tears up. "T-Tel?"

And then her eyes go to Seyardu--and then to Dolan in the distance, then to Auranar, then to Lysos, and then there's Aryia beating up on the man who is yelping from pain.

Tears fall from her violet eyes. "Seyardu, Dolan, Auranar, Lysos... And... That's Aryia over there, right?"

She smiles so widely as she crumples into Telamon's arms, just clinging to him for dear life. "Thank you.... Thank you all!" she whimpers, dissolving into sobs of relief.

A successful rescue.

OOC

Battle music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4KQXcXuDPfI

===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
 >> 25   Aryia            6   <<
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    24   Lysos            1  Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)               
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    13   Dolan            1  Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)               
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    12   Telamon          1  Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)               
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    12   Karan'taara         
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    8    Zombies             
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    5    Auranar          1  Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)               
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    5    Seyardu          1  Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)               
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==============================================================================

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|   Name   |   Race   |   Class   | CHP | HP  | AC/FF/T |CMD |For |Ref |Wil |
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|Aryia     |SHADOW_ELF|Mnk        | 139 | 139 |27/22/26 | 43 | 17 | 19 | 16 |
|Auranar   |WILD_ELF  |Sor        | 18  | 18  |13/10/13 | 15 | 3  | 4  | 4  |
|Dolan     |HUMAN     |Ftr/Inq    | 39  | 39  |19/18/12 | 18 | 8  | 3  | 7  |
|Lysos     |HUMAN     |Sor        | 48  | 48  |13/10/13 | 23 | 4  | 6  | 8  |
|Seyardu   |SITH-MAKAR|Clr        | 121 | 121 |23/23/14 | 23 | 12 | 4  | 14 |
|Telamon   |HALF-ELF  |Sor        | 35  | 35  |15/13/15 | 20 | 4  | 5  | 9  |
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