Game of Ghosts

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Log Info

  • Title: Game of Ghosts, part 1
  • Emitter: Cryosanthia
  • Characters: Aimarra, Karasu, Randolf, Skielstregar, Vaera
  • Place: A14: Society for Progressive Arcanists
  • Time: Tuesday, December 28, 2021, 8:58 PM
  • Summary: Randolf is in the Main Study Hall of the Library on the Progressive Arcanists campus. With him are other students, conversing or studying. A few anomalous people appear, two Sith'Makar, an archer with an unusual bow, a witch with a raven and mysterious business. Books start coming off the shelves, then flinging themselves at people. At first it's presumed to be a student prank, someone using Mage Hand or a similar spell. The attacks get more violent, and one of the invisible attackers reveals himself to be the ghostly, skeletal remains of a former student. These might be the legendary haunts of the school. As people are thrown about, Randolf and Skielstregar attack with magic, which has some effect. Normal attacks seem ineffective. Despite being a library of magic, most of the students aren't using it, they're leaving in various directions.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aimarra      5'1"     128 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears.
Karasu       5'9"     125 Lb     Human             Male      Clearly a man of Xian decent with dark hair and eyes.
Randolf      4'10"    280 Lb     Mountain Dwarf    Male      A burly, well-dressed Khazad in wizardly robes.
Skielstregar 7'2"     330 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A bronze/silver scale with fangs and empty eyes.
Vaera        7'0"     262 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.     
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Main Study Hall in the Library.

It's just after the winter solstice, exams are done. For most. For the unlucky few, they have had theirs postponed to after the new year's celebration. This has forced them to congregate in the study hall in the library. It's one of the few buildings the remains open.

Excepting, all the other ones.

It's still popular and populated once it has become dark, and the mana lights burn brightly with stark illumination. Students of the Arcane are in groups of two and threes, or alone, and it's the best place to get an answer to any esoteric magic questions that might come to mind.

Karasu wanders - not aimlessly but with purpose - through the student hall. His raven stays on his shoulder here lest any wizard or sorcerer catch a bright idea about using the bird for some kind of experiment. It wouldn't be the first time. His dark eyes roam the various individuals in the hall with interest, making his way to one in particular and gesturing to them with his hands. An unspoken language that he and this other know well enough. A brief greeting is exchanged, and then Karasu hands over a small package to the wizard-in-training before continuing their conversation along a more curiosity-led route.

One figure is _definitely_ out of place among the arcane students here in the hall, and quite obviously lost. A bow in one hand, Aimarra wanders the halls and into the main study area, looking around her both wonderingly and confusedly. It is not held in a way that would suggest violent intent, but rather a thing that may be of interest.

There is a figure in the study hall that sticks out like an absolute sore thumb. A tall sith-makar in armor, flaky tarnished bronze scales line him as he goes about the study. Looking for... something about magic! He's been a shushed numerous times, him apologizing quietly has he scratches his arm. Some scales flake off, him quietly groaning in annoyance.

Randolf settles back in his seat, whiskers twitching and conjured flame jumping at his fingertip as he lights up his pipe. "An' -that's- when he says, 'but clearly a convex gestural series would provide neither additive -nor- subtractive influence on the gathered arcanima.'" He puffs a billow of sweet vanilla-honey pipe smoke into the air with a huge ear-to-ear grin. "Och, can ye -believe- that dunce?" He booms with laughter, slapping a hand on the table. "Gods, ye should've seen the look on his face when I showed 'im what a -chuff- he was! So much fer 'dwarves make terrible wizards', eh? Eh? HAH!"

If Vaera was researching magic, her first choice would likely be the shamans of Mictlan, or the druids nearby. But she was not, and Skielstregar's case was much more different than her own. And Skielstregar always got so excited (and nervous) about visiting the city. So she offered to accompany him to the city, and show him to the arcanist's society. She pointed him in the direction of some sections which may prove useful, but otherwise she was off in a corner, with several books on artifice stacked on a desk. The desk was pointed in a way she could keep an eye on the room, in case she needed to bail her fellow makari out.

Three students are talking loudly. They are elves, taking a break from their studies, and might be in their early hundreds. Scattered reference books surround them. One is in the midst of finishing a story, "... and he was so devastated he hanged himself from the top of the library. Tonight's the anniversary. Boo!"

It prompts a round of friendly laughter. No one shushes them, no one has tried to silence the dwarf. The other visitors are equally ignored.

Thump, a book falls off a table.

Thump, another falls off a shelf.

The window of ignorance has seemingly closed. Books are flying off the shelves.

"Is someone Mage-handing those? Quit it!" One of the students shouts. "This isn't the cafeteria!"

There, throwing food is a right.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (14)+3: 17
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (12)+3: 15
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (9)+3: 12

Three books arc through the air, one striking Aimarra, the other two near misses of Skielstregar and Vaera, hitting the Sith'Makar but bouncing off their armour.

GAME: Randolf casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 6 DC: 14
GAME: Randolf rolls Perception: (9)+7: 16
GAME: Vaera rolls cmb: (6)+6: 12
GAME: Skielstregar rolls cmb: (11)+9: 20
GAME: Aimarra rolls cmb: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (17)+14: 31
GAME: Karasu rolls perception: (16)+6: 22
GAME: Aimarra rolls knowledge/local: (18)+6: 24

Randolf scowls dourly as books start flying around. He sets his pipe down on the table and hops to his feet, pulling his wand. "What sort o' nonsense is this, eh? Re ex re arcanos sofios! HAH!" His eyes flare with blue light, and he starts peering around, muttering and grumbling as he taps his foot. His gaze rivets on the bookshelves. "-There- you are, ye bastard. Now what've we got here...?" He studies intently, tugging at his beard as he examines the revealed arcanima.

Vaera was enjoying reading her book, when suddenly several more books decided that they weren't getting read instead, and they attempt to take it out on the hapless readers instead. Vaera jumps to her feet as one of them flaps angrily against her, and when it swoops in a second time, she snatches it out of the air, clamping it shut with both hands. "I am aware this is a place of magic, but this is a bit ridiculous." Vaera growls. "Skielstregar, there may be more, be wary!"

Skielstregar blinks as a book bounces off his head, a dust of scales scattering and showing rough hide underneath. "... ow!" he says a bit late, snatching the book out of the air on the rebound. He frowns at it, then drops it to the ground. "It'ssss... normal? What isss thisss?"

The wizard speaking in handspeech to Karasu continues to sign to him. "I heard that you were quite the contractor. I have been asked to see if you would be-"

Karasu brusquely cuts off the other man with his fingers flashing quickly. "I do not discuss such things in the open!" He glances around to see if anyone else has caught onto their conversation, or understands it. The raven on his shoulder makes a sound of curiosity and the books fly from the shelves. Whatever is causing the disturbance doesn't seem to bother Karasu as much as it interests the raven. "We can talk in your room perhaps?"

The wizard that Karasu is talking to eyes the strange books flying off the shelves in various locations and nods uncertainly. Which is just as well since Karasu notes that several more books are wiggling. <handspeech>

Being hit over the head with a book isn't fun, and paper cuts only add insult to injury. A thin red line appears across Aimarra's temple, and the bow clatters to the marble floor. She snarls something uncomplimentary about bored wizards, and reaches up, grabbing the book firmly with both hands. It doesn't resist, but as she pins it down, she, too, stares at the wiggling books a few spines down, much the same ones Karasu did.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d12: (11): 11

Randolf points with his wand. "There... there... an' -there-! I'm seein' at least three points of arcane focus!" He harrumphs. "-Honestly-, does someone have nothin' better tae do?"

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (4)+3: 7
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (11)+3: 14
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (6)+3: 9

Three more books fly, with less umph and less accuracy. One thumps down on the table in front of Randolf.

One he was looking for actually, Comparative Sigils. It flew from the south shelf, near the three elves.

"Seriously! We're not doing this." The head elf by the shelf laughs.

Two more fly from the north-east, once more targeting the Sith'Makar, and not even managing to reach them. They hit the floor early and slide the rest of the distance.

GAME: Randolf rolls spellcraft: (5)+13: 18
GAME: Randolf rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (20)+15: 35
GAME: Vaera rolls cmb: (11)+6: 17

Vaera keeps the book closed, which does not take too much effort, and allows her to keep an eye open to find several more books skidding across the ground. She looks to the one in her hands, and it is set down on the desk behind her. "Well, they are not animated, at least. But that is not much comfort for the concussed." She states, looking around. "Something is sending them flying, yes, either a spell cast, or a phenomenon. The source may be nearby!"

GAME: Skielstregar rolls 1d100: (73): 73
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage0: aliased to 1d3+5: (1)+5: 6
GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (13)+8: 21

Skielstregar grumbles as they are further assailed, him watching Vaera for a moment, ensuring she was safe before nodding at her words. "Very well!" Taking in Randolf's directive, he strides over to where the source was pointed. A fist is cocked back. "Ssstop the source, got it!" He punches down hard.

The man was not a tiny shadow elf pugilist. It's just a heavy handed swing that finds no purchase. He glances ahead. "Ah, another book, Headsss up!"

Karasu makes his way across the room with the wizard that he was talking to following close at hand. There's more books wiggling off the shelves. The raven on his shoulder lets out a questioning sound and he shakes his head. "Just a prank of some kind Wuya. Nothing to get ourselves involved with." He notices that he's headed toward a woman who had dropped her bow in an effort to wrangle an inert book and angles slightly around her. No one has been hurt and the books seem to just be flinging themselves off the shelves without doing any damage.

Well... The woman in front of him has a papercut on her cheek that he can't help but note to himself, and which makes Wuya make a chiding noise at him.

Randolf narrows his eyes. "Ghislain! Waldemar! Abby! You three stop that this -instant-!" He draws himself up to his full height, puffing up his burly chest to make himself loom even larger (and given the shortness of his full height, he'll need it). "Whatever ye've got goin' on between the three o' ye, it's naught tae do wi' -us-! So KNOCK IT OFF!" Hey, at least he's -trying- diplomacy first.

GAME: Aimarra rolls cmb: (3)+9: 12
GAME: Skielstregar rolls will: (14)+2: 16
GAME: Karasu rolls will: (19)+4: 23

Sharp brown eyes spotted the wriggling on the shelf, and Aimarra is all business as she uses the tome held in both hands to pin down one of the tomes on the shelf, staring hard at it as it wriggles futilely against the corner of the book in her hands. "None of that."

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (11)+3: 14

Books continue to wiggle on the shelves, though Aimarra is successful at fighting one.

Randolf's outburst, calling names, has an effect. The aura nearest him suddenly becomes visible. A skeletal hobgoblin, covered in dried, rotted flesh and missing one of his ears roars silently and rushes the dwarf.

"It's not a prank! It's not a prank!" Two students yell, tumbling out of their chairs and fleeing the sight... but not the room.

And a third book flies towards Skielstregar and bounces off him again.

"Did someone manage to summon an Unseen Servant, is that what is going on?" One of the trio of elves asks.

"Can't. Everythings abjured. Really abjured."

"No it's them, it's really them!" The leader says, grabbing for spell components, "Abby, Ghislain and Waldemar, that's Waldemar! Quick maybe we can bind him!"

They don't seem to be threatened, or taking this seriously.

Wizards.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon12: (4)+10: 14
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage12: aliased to 1d10+7: (1)+7: 8

Skielstregar's gasps lightly, him rushing forward and shoving Randolf out of the way. "Behind thisss one!" His halberd comes down with a hefty swing. And...

Nothing happens. He blinks. "... what."

GAME: Karasu casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 1 DC: 14

As the ghostly image of a half-dead humanoid takes form in the room Wuya takes flight, stubbornly winging aloft above Karasu's head. Karasu sighs and pushes the wizard from the room, already casting a spell to enable him to see magical auras and thus the source of this chaos. "We will meet up later." He informs the wizard who nods and makes his way out of the room hurriedly.

"Wuya!" He calls to the raven, and obediently the bird falls to his shoulder once again. "Very well, we will see what we can do to aid here."

GAME: Randolf used a Wand of Magic Missile.
GAME: Randolf rolls 3d4+3: (8)+3: 11

Randolf narrows his eyes as Waldemar manifests. "Right, I -tried- bein' nice! HAVE SOME O'THIS!" He snaps his wand out with a mighty "YARRRH!" A trio of glowing blue orbs burst from the tip, corkscrewing in a helix pattern to strobe into the ghostly presence. PA PA PAH! "Ordinary weapons aren't goin' tae do much, friends! Ye have tae use magic!" he growls.

And then something much nastier than a stinging papercut shows up.- and Aimarra dropped her bow way over there! Slowly, deliberately, she sets the book in her hands atop another, leaving it to fall through, and straightens herself, pulling her sword from its sheath and assuming a defensive posture. "Yeah, so how do we get rid of it?"

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (6)+3: 9
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (20)+3: 23
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (11)+3: 14
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (15)+3: 18
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d6: (5): 5
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6: (2): 2

Waldemar howls silently as the magic missiles streak into him. The apparition twisting, becoming even more transparent. The nearest table is flung at Skielstregar. Well, he did attack first.

The table-flip does little more than landing at the Sith'makar's feet.

"Ahhhhh!" A nearby student is sent flying, cracking into Randolf's head, enough to stagger him. She falls to the floor. In a similar manner, one of the three elves to the south of the room suddenly launches in the air.

An elbow smacks Aimarra as the pass.

The spirits seem to be stepping up their arsenal.

Waldemar rushes at Randolf and vanishes into thin air.

GAME: Skielstregar RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 8 temporary HP

As students start flying around, some of them take that as a cue to leave. The pair that ran from the sight of Waldemar work their way towards exits, hugging the walls until they're in the halls.

GAME: Karasu rolls diplomacy: (6)+6: 12
GAME: Karasu rolls diplomacy: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)

Vaera blinks as students are thrown around. "Leave now, and alert the shamans in charge of this place!" She shouts, with some of the students seeming too get the message and taking off. She steps away from the bookcase, in case they seek to pop out of more of them, so she would have room to act.

Skielstregar growls as people are thrown about. "Will you cease thisss?"

Throw, skull crack against Randolf. The makari takes a deep breath, and then-

"ALRIGHT! THAT'S ENOUGH!" he roars, an aura of dread emanating from him. A second set of fangs manifest, his eyes gleam red, and his talons grow. Black miasma leaks between scales and his maw, coating his weapon. The Forgotten scrambles to the opposite side of Randolf, halberd poised to strike. "Come out come out... " he snarls.

GAME: Karasu rolls Diplomacy: (6)+6: 12

Karasu moves toward the invisible things which he can see, slipping an oddly shaped dagger into his palm as he moves closer to the band of individuals betwixt the bookshelves. One of them is undergoing a horrible transformation, but this might be to his aid somewhat. Should that person have any ability to use magic in their attacks. "Vardama." He speaks as he moves. "These lost souls have forgotten their place in this world. Their spirits do not belong here any longer. Return! Return to the Gray Halls where you belong!"

He moves carefully toward the others even as he speaks, trying specifically to draw closer to the enraged Sith-makar. Almost there.

Aimarra holds her defensive posture, sword in hand, and looks around her, wincing at the second smack. Definitely not what she came here for.

"Sorry," The student that involuntarily elbowed Aimarra apologizes.

GAME: Randolf used a Wand of Magic Missile.
GAME: Randolf rolls 3d4+3: (6)+3: 9

Randolf bellows in dwarven rage as he's pelted with a hapless student. "GRAAAAH!" His fury might not be quite as intimidating as Skiel's, but even so, it's never a good idea to tangle with an angry dwarf. His gaze tracks the empty air, his beard bristling and his grip on his wand white-knuckled. He snaps the magicked rod out. "HAH!" Another brace of orbs blast out to strobe off the empty air. PA PA PAH! "YOU PISS-DRINKIN' SHITS, I'LL LAY YE TAE REST IF IT'S THE LAST THING I -DO-!" he thunders.

GAME: Karasu rolls will: (14)+4: 18
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Randolf rolls Will: (10)+6: 16
GAME: Skielstregar rolls will: (16)+4: 20
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon12: (10)+12: 22
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage12+6: aliased to 1d10+9+6: (6)+9+6: 21
GAME: Aimarra rolls weapon2+2: (12)+10+2: 24

As the magic missiles home in and hit, Waldemar fades to transparency. Just before he vanishes, there's the hint of a chain around his neck. It is the last item of the hob's to fade. His last effort is a glowering look towards Karasu.

He heard the prayer... something about it angered him.

And Abby, as a rotting half-elf appears right beside Skielstregar and soundlessly screams at him. Her throat is tattered and ripped open, her fingers end in bones. Like Waldemar, she seems both skeletal and shriveled, and translucent.

"Nonononono," the student-missile says, retreating.

GAME: Aimarra rolls 1d8+3: (5)+3: 8

"Ugh, send your lover back too!" Aimarra calls out, sidestepping the retreating student missile and charing in, sword at the ready, when the second one appears. Her sword appears to go through it - and not, the sharpened edge appearing to find invisible purchase of some kind.

Skielstregar turns like a river whip and smashes his miasma laden weapon down on the appearing specter. He simply snarls.

The dual attacks completely dissipate the spectre. The female half-elf, 'Abby' presumably, fades with nary a chance to react, so violently was she struck.

Attacks that seemed to yank the third of their number into visibility, though not corporeality. At the southern part of the room, amongst the trio of shelf-elfs, a rotten and decaying half-elf appears.

He's jerked, by shackles on each wrist, and his face is a twisted expression of hate. His neck is broken, a noose stretching upwards, and vanishing.

The sight of him causes two nearby students to scream in terror.

to be continued...

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Map
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