Void-Friend of Taara
Market District, noon.
It's warm, humid, and slightly cloudy today, with the usual hustle and bustle of people who are eyeing the void-hole in the distance overhead somewhat nervously. Despite that, life goes on, because it has to. People need to eat and make coin, so... The vendors are hard at work. There's several vendors selling farm goods and freshly-made food, one vendor selling toys, one vendor selling ready-made clothes (with promises of tailoring in fifteen minutes or less after purchase, thanks to handy use of magic and a sharp sewing needle). There's even a vendor selling scrolls, potions, and weapons.
This particular corner of the marketplace sees it being guarded by Bryn, Aragos, Jarik, and Warrick, hired here today by the Explorers' Guild to stand guard. This is a common occurrence now within the city. Adventurers are being hired to help defend from any sudden wraiths and other nightmarish prospects descending from the void-hole.
"You lot good over there?" the shopkeeper for the adventurers' stall calls out for not the first time during their afternoon shift. "I know you all have just one hour left~! Come on over after; I have some nice things you all might be interested in!"
Yes, he's been doing that for the past six hours. Horrible.
Aragos stands idly, considering using one of the nearby stalls to lean against for comfort, but he's supposed to be on guard duty so he resists the urge. What he doesn't resist the urge to do is glare at the shopkeeper who has been yelling at them for the past six hours trying to talk up his wares. Aragos doesn't even know what the guy is selling, but if it isn't alcohol he isn't interested.
Scratch that. Even if it is he still isn't interested. Because he just *doesn't like* the guy.
Instead Aragos stretches a bit, his armor groaning quietly in protest and shifts his weight. "I'm more interested in going home to my fiancée after this. He promised pie." He flashes a grin over at Warrick. "Apple."
If it wasn't for such tense circumstances, Warrick wouldn't be in this getup. It doesn't matter how fancy the armor it is, nothing changes the fact that layers of padding and metal make for a mini oven. At least the mithral is shiny and pretty.
"Good as can be," he grunts in a reply, visor lifted for the time being. There's a tired look in his eyes, even though he's not loosened the grip on his unloaded crossbow. His gaze flicks up to the void hole in the distance. "Apple pie is good," the arbalest comments. "I have a friend who's family runs an apple orchard if your fiancée needs more."
The coin is good, and the opportunity to pick up on who has the best things to buy for the best prices is pretty hand. Aside from that, though, guard duty is FARGIN BORIN!
At least for Bryn, who walks a 'patrol route' around some of the others, because standing still is hard. Really, really hard. The mention of pie sparks a comment from her stomach. "Ugh. How do ye do this?! An hour more? Weren't an hour ta go an hour ago?"
'Standing' guard is really more of a suggestion as far as Jarik is concerned. Even if some of the others are more serious, he's found himself a barrel to sit on. A couple of coppers tossed to a passing kid got him an apple delivered, which he's currently crunching into. That talk of apple pie amuses him.
"I don't think I'd eat anything my boyfriend cooked." He says as he eyes the apple in his hand. His other hand rests on his knee as he directs his frown to the shopkeep, then to the hole in the sky. "I could go for some spice cake though."
As there's talk of apple pie going, the shopkeeper of the clothing stand sighs. "What I'd give for one more slice of my Begonia's..."
Her words slow as a slender little thread of darkness comes to form down from the sky, followed by another several feet away between the toy stand and the fruit stand, and another right by the stand that's selling the tomatoes.
Two shadow-licked figures form from two of the strands, while the third by the tomato stand forms into the shape of a half-elf man with a silver mask and short black hair, blue eyes piercing from behind the mask. "Well then! What a day for the end of the world!" The young man cries out joyously before he begins to cast a spell.
The strange shadowy figures seem somehow unstable to some degree as they walk unnaturally slowly. One advances towards the adventure-gear shopkeeper and reaches out an incorporeal hand to paw at him. Only the shopkeeper laughs as he steps out of the way.
"I remember you lot! Can't do much so long as there's sunlight, can you!" He calls over to the group of adventurers. "I got a scroll of daylight around here somewhere! If I can find it." Easier said than done. There is a veritable mountain of them on his scroll stand.
Meanwhile, the shopkeeper for the fruit stand isn't so lucky as the shadow figure advances on her. "Get behind the stand!" she tells a young boy who doesn't even come up to her knee, and he hides behind the fruit stall. It means he doesn't have to see his mother beginning to wither to a husk as she's touched by the shadowy figure, her skin going pale and a horrible little gasp leaving her lips. She's still alive. Barely.
GAME: Bryn spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE.
Bryn turns as the darkness rises and folks appear; some shadowy, one shiny. A blink, and then she's grinning tuskily. "Ha! End o' world, end o' shift! Le's bash in their faces!" It's a warning, a rousing, and then a running as she barrels straight for the silver-faced guy. Because she's no longer bored.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+16: (8)+16: 24 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+5: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Riptide rolls 5d6: (17): 17 GAME: Riptide rolls 5d6: (17): 17
The man in the mask laughs as Bryn strides up to him. "Oh, adorable. The first lamb to come to the slaughter!"
To punctuate his point, he murmurs an incantation, and his hand slams into Bryn's shoulder, necromantic energy stealing her life force and flowing it back into the man. "For I am the rightful heir to the Shadow Lady's forces. I am, after all, Karan'taara!" He laughs madly.
GAME: Jarik casts Ray of Enfeeblement. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15 GAME: Jarik rolls base attack: (13)+2+2: 17 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (9)+6: 15 GAME: Jarik rolls 1d6+2: (1)+2: 3 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (12)+10: 22
As soon as the shadows descend from the sky, Jarik is hopping off his barrel, apple slipping into his pocket. It's still a good apple. "Right." Is his full response to Bryn's encouragement. He goes running off toward one of the other shopkeepers, interposing himself between them and the monsters.
Even as he does so, he utters a few words and raises his hand, a beam of purple black flying from his splayed fingers and slamming into the creature by the adventurer's stall.
GAME: Warrick rolls knowledge/religion: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Warrick rolls knowledge/religion: (17)+4: 21
Aragos draws his sword forth, and it immediately begins to glow with a holy white light from within. The blue-black blade looks quite different with the light of holiness emitting from it. Aragos grins across the intervening space between him and Karan'taara. "You know what's nice about being a paladin of Vardama?"
His query has it's own reply and he gives it snarkily. "I don't have to wear some stupid, ugly mask!"
GAME: Warrick rolls weapon16+1+2: (18)+14+1+2: 35 GAME: Warrick rolls xbowDamage+1+2: aliased to 1d10+4+1+2: (10)+4+1+2: 17 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+3: (9)+3: 12 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+3: (19)+3: 22 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6: (4): 4 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d3: (1): 1
Things turn for the worst, very, very quickly. There's a moment where his throat goes taut at seeing Bryn get the life siphoned out of her. But he shakes it off as the other step into action. Visor slammed down, he runs to the stall with the adventuring equipment. "Wraiths! Incorporeal, holy waters, magic weapons, ghost touch!" he shouts to the others. "Have you any of that?" he asks the shop keep before smacking the ghastly creature with the butt of his crossbow, knocking it off kilter before slotting in a bolt and point blank blasting them center mass.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d4: (4): 4
As the wraith that Warrick just shot point-blank tries to lazily swipe at Warrick, the adventure-gear shopkeeper shuffles away a few feet. "Almost certainly, just a matter of trying to find something, hold on..."
He then tosses a holy water vial into Warrick's hand, which the former guardsman catches smoothly in one hand. "I have ghost touch potions, I'll look for those!" You'd think a shop keeper would have better organization, but alas.
Meanwhile, the wraith standing over the fruit stall shopkeeper finishes its dread work. A hand goes for the throat and she goes pale, a rattle escaping her lungs as her body falls to the ground. Something dark and shadowy surrounds her form. Her son is hiding behind the stall. "Mommy?" he calls out, unwilling to poke his head back over it to see what's just happened.
GAME: Bryn spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE. GAME: Bryn rolls weapon1+2-2: (18)+11+2+-2: 29 (THREAT) GAME: Bryn rolls weapon1+2-2-5: (17)+11+2+-2+-5: 23 GAME: Bryn rolls weapon1+2-2: (9)+11+2+-2: 20 GAME: Bryn rolls damage1+2+2+6+damage1+2+2+6: aliased to 2d4+7+2+2+6+2d4+7+2+2+6: (5)+7+2+2+6+(8)+7+2+2+6: 47 GAME: Bryn rolls damage1+2+2+6: aliased to 2d4+7+2+2+6: (5)+7+2+2+6: 22 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d4: (2): 2
Bryn is used to cuts, scrapes, bruises, broken bones, daggers in eyes, and even incinerated limbs. Getting her energy sucked right outta her is a new thing. She's left panting for a moment, but it ain' nearly enough to dim her eagerness. "No thieving!" She brings her big curveblade down in a big overhead arc to cut through his borrowed protections and then a quick follow-up to shed some more blood. She's grinning wide. "I'm good for slaughterin! How bout you, lambchop?"
Karan'taara takes a couple of steps back, blood trickling out from underneath his mask as he snarls at Bryn. "Oh, believe me, so am _I_," he hisses, no longer grinning and happy. He raises his hand, and a black beam of magic lances out, hitting Bryn square in the chest with noxious and powerful magic.
"Now try that again! You will not be so successful." Karan'taara smiles again, more grimly, the light not touching his blue eyes. "I will weaken you bit by bit, measure by measure, as the shadows tear apart everyone around you, little lamb!"
GAME: Jarik rolls melee+2: (6)+5+2: 13 GAME: Jarik rolls 1d8+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (10)+6: 16
"Run, kid!" Jarik shouts as his attention turns from the one wraith to the other. He storms his way across the cobbles, hand beginning to glow with a soft golden light. As he closes in, he shoves his glowing hand into the wraith, letting the healing light burn away the shadows.
GAME: Aragos rolls 1d20+13+1+2: (6)+13+1+2: 22 GAME: Aragos rolls 2d6+6+1+2+2d6: (8)+6+1+2+(8): 25 GAME: Warrick rolls ranged+1+2-2: (20)+11+1+2+-2: 32 (THREAT) GAME: Warrick rolls ranged+1+2-2: (6)+11+1+2+-2: 18 GAME: Warrick rolls 4d4: (11): 11 GAME: Warrick rolls weapon16-2+2+1: (19)+14+-2+2+1: 34 (THREAT) GAME: Warrick rolls weapon16-2+2+1: (10)+14+-2+2+1: 25 GAME: Warrick rolls weapon16-2+2+1-5: (9)+14+-2+2+1+-5: 19 GAME: Warrick rolls xbowDamage+2+1+xbowDamage+2+1: aliased to 1d10+4+2+1+1d10+4+2+1: (6)+4+2+1+(3)+4+2+1: 23 GAME: Warrick rolls xbowDamage+2+1: aliased to 1d10+4+2+1: (4)+4+2+1: 11
Aragos rushes forward, seeing the woman fall in defense of her son brings harsh memories to the surface and he does then what he should have been able to do for his own son. He cuts a swath into the wraith, hoping to distract it from the boy hiding in the stall. His eyes glance toward the woman on the ground, black mist rising from her body and he frowns. "Get going home kid!" He yells, to reaffirm what Jarik said.
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+3: (20)+3: 23 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+3: (20)+3: 23 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d6+1d6+1d3: (3)+(1)+(3): 7
Warrick cringes as the mother collapses. Not the time to dwell on tactical mistakes, keep moving the pieces. "Thanks!" he says over his shoulder, catching the holy water out of the air. In the same motion, it gets cracked open in a gauntlet and sprayed in a mist at the wraith, sizzling it with blessed power.
He deftly steps up, jamming the head of the crossbow into the briefly corporeal wound from the water. KA-CHUNK-THUNK-THUNK. Cobble sprays in all directions as two bolts pin it to the ground, making it spasm and vanish in a poof. He pivots on a knee and heel, loading his next salvo with malicious intent.
As a last stand, the wraith that remains hisses at Aragos and Jarik's attacks, lashing out a hand at Aragos's very face. It leaves a dark mark there as it steals a bit of his life essence. The mark quickly fades away, but the skin there feels _cold_.
GAME: Bryn rolls weapon1+2-2-2: (17)+11+2+-2+-2: 26 GAME: Bryn rolls weapon1+2-2-2: (19)+11+2+-2+-2: 28 (THREAT) GAME: Bryn rolls weapon1+2-2-2-5: (18)+11+2+-2+-2+-5: 22 (THREAT) GAME: Bryn rolls damage1+2+2+6: aliased to 2d4+7+2+2+6: (3)+7+2+2+6: 20 GAME: Bryn rolls damage1+2+2+6+damage1+2+2+6: aliased to 2d4+7+2+2+6+2d4+7+2+2+6: (5)+7+2+2+6+(5)+7+2+2+6: 44 GAME: Jarik casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15 GAME: Jarik rolls melee+2: (17)+5+2: 24 GAME: Jarik rolls 1d8+4: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+6: (13)+6: 19
Jarik lets out a small sigh as the kid goes running instead of freezing in place. It's one thing off his mind at least. As the others seem to be making quick work of the baddies he turns his attention onto the one in front of him which is also thankfully ignoring him. Another softly spoken prayer lights his hand up with the golden radiance once more, which he proceeds to jab into the wraith, dissipating the shadows as the light flares outward in a brief flash. "That all of them?"
GAME: Aragos rolls Knowledge/Religion: (7)+14: 21
Shinyface's claims of the wraiths has Bryn spare a glance back to check. Just in time to see Warrick vaporize one and Aragos and Jarik almost finished doing the same to the other. Her sapped grin is reinvigorated as she looks back at Karan'taara. "Shadows? What shadows?" Then her eyes narrow with the blade being brought up again. "Who're you-" *slash* "callin li'l" *chop* "ye shiny-faced" *hack* "weasel.."
It takes another second or three for her to realize ShinyFace isn't gloating anymore. Or grinning. Or breathing. Or even in one piece. "Bit by bit's too slow fer me..." Now she can look back to the others. "E'erybody good?"
Aragos turns his eyes on the corpse of the mother who had been defending her son. "Not quite all of them." He offers in reply to Jarik. Then he turns toward the guy who'd been hawking his wares and yells out. "Need some holy water over here!"
Helpfully the man throws the paladin of Vardama a bottle and Aragos uncaps it with his teeth and pours out one for and on the woman who had died where she should not have. "Be at peace. For your son's sake, do not rise, but go instead into the Gray Halls to your deserved rest." He closes his eyes for a moment, sparing a moment of silence and prayer for the woman who had passed. He doesn't even know her name, but she'd been a mother so he hopes that his prayer will reach her spirit all the same.
For a tense moment, it seems like the shadow might not dissipate. Except it does, leaving the woman's corpse alone. She doesn't rise. She is merely still.
"Mommy?" The boy squeaks out again from behind the safety of the old lady with a heavy pan in her hand. He pops out of the stall a little to peer over in the direction of the adventurers.
"Petrus, sweetie, stay." The old woman eyes the void-hole warily in the sky before she pads over to the adventurers. "Would one of you be so kind as to carry her back to a temple? Petrus doesn't have a father--he passed away two years ago of sickness--and I don't have the heart to deprive my grandson of his mother." She reaches into a pocket and produces a small diamond. "Please, take that for me to the clerics. Come back with her."
Warrick holds his firing pose for a few more tense seconds as Aragos gives final rites. And then... the danger passes. "Yeah... good here. Looking a little pale there, Bryn, but you did a bang up job with that creepy guy," he nods towards her before rejoining the others. The once-guard lifts his visor, looking down at the gem. "... I know too well how that feels, ma'am," he mutters, taking the diamond. "We can do that for you."
Looking at the woman and then his companions, some of which took some telling blows in the battle, he lets out a soft sigh. Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he drops to all fours, a large boar standing where he had been just a moment ago. With a snort he lowers himself to the ground, making it easy for whoever he's going to be carrying to be loaded up on his back. Though he keeps his eyes pointedly ahead. Dignity and all that.
The paladin of Vardama lifts the body of the woman off the ground and places her carefully on the back of the now-pig. Aragos lays a hand on her form to steady her there and nods gratefully to Jarik. "I am grateful for your help. That fight took it out of me." He nods farewell to the grandmother and says, "I'll lead the way to the temple and talk to the priests. We'll see her returned."
Vardama permitting.
Bryn is late in realizing what happened to the woman, as focused as she was on ShinyFace, though not knowing until there's already a good plan of action in place makes it easier. She walks over, a little pale or not, and flashes Warrick a grin. "Thanks. Bangin up I'm good at." To prove that, or that she isn't all that weakened, she gives Warrick's shoulder a hearty clap (with her fleshy hand).
"Yeah, let's get 'er to the temple to get righted up. Then some ale. And maybe pie."
The group goes forth, Jarik-boar acting as a noble mount and the others helping with the procession.
The fine clerics at the Temple of Vardama do their diligence. The diamond is sufficient for the spell, and the mother returns with a gasp. "Petrus!" is her very first word, and once she's reassured that her son is okay, she's more than profuse with her praise.
She pays for a cleric to do the necessary work to restore some of Aragos's drained vitality from him and for Bryn's weakness to be expunged. "It's going to cost a week's profits, but it's the right thing to do," she explains. "You got me back to my son. I can't put a price on that."
Then there's ale, and some apple pie, and that's a nice end to a guard duty shift.
-End