Into Charn

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Log Info

  • Title: Into Charn
  • Emitter: Zeke
  • Characters: Paenitia, Aryia, Seyardu, Strike
  • Place: Charn
  • Time: Monday, September 27, 2021, 2:51 PM
  • Summary: A secretive expedition heads into Charn, with a boat crewed by motivated sailors, some of whom were ex-slaves themselves. Paenitia, with brave Ramirez, Seyarud, Aryia and Strike have found the warehouse Mikilos located with his scrying. It seems heavily guarded without. They sneak close, and in their attempts to break in alert a guard, another guard, a third guard. They keep coming and getting knocked down and tied up. All head inside after Seyardu breaks the lock. They see mostly male prisoners, and are told the women and children have been taken to the back. Seyardu and the others start to free them, while Paenitia goes to check the side building. What she sees prompts her to immediately attack. Women and children are being beaten and thrown through a portal, while an overseer looks on and laughs. He becomes the target of the Red Knight. Battle ensues, with Seyardu doing her best to keep the prisoners alive, while Aryia works off frustration and rage by killing guards, and Paenitia and Strike focus on the Overseer who is very tought. Despite their many blows, he picks up Paenitia and squeezes the life out of her, or would have, if not for Seyardu's healing and Strikes crushing punches, which kill him. He explodes in a cloud of acidic gas. Everyone is nauseated, and burning. The adventurers struggle to catch a clear breath and rescue the women and children, who are not doing well at all. They prevail, and with the other prisoners make a quick retreat to their ship and sail away.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Paenitia     3'0"     34 Lb      Halfling          Female    A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery.
Aryia        4'8"     110 Lb     Shadow Elf        Female    A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her.
Seyardu      5'6"     150 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint.
Strike       5'11"    155 Lb     Half-Elf          Female    A dusky grey half elf girl in grey and black clothes.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Zeke         6'8"     239 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A blue-scaled sith-makar in shadowy robes
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Night has fallen, and you survay the warehouse that you know now holds the slaves you are looking for carefully. It is heavily patrolled by guards whom keep a sharp eye out for anyone trying to free the slaves or steal them. Neither of which are unusual in their line of work.

There's no light from the sky this night to illuminate your work. None for them to see by, and none for you. It makes things a bit more challenging and yet safer at the same time. So far the weather has been fair, but there's a strong wind and you think it might rain. Sooner or later. Small noises rise from the warehouse now and again. You can't quite make them out. Somehow being unable to hear it isn't a comfort however.

Nightfall. A time where Aryia was at her peak. Though instead of the simple attire she normally wears, this time she was wreathed in a verdant green cloak, hood, leather gloves and a black half face mask. Taking a page out of someone she was close to. Shimmering eyes pierce the night with ease, as she looks up from her surveying to the group. "Smash and grab?" she suggests, leather stretching and quietly squeaking as she silently speaks with her hands. Signs of a fist pounding into the other, then snatching something. <Handspeech>

Paenitia's blood red cloak and hat blend well with the darkness. Her large, white, hippogryph does not, but Ramirez has found a pale wall to stand nearby and that reduces his visibility, somewhat.

The Red Knight's voice is a quiet hiss, "the more attention, the worse it is. The plan to sneak, fast in, fast out, is the best. We have arrange a place to take them?"

Letting slaves loose in the street is likely counter productive.

It was a wonder Seyardu had gotten as far as she did without too much difficulty. She was covered in a dark black shawl, and the plague doctor's mask she had worn before. At a distance, she couldn't be discerned to be a sith-makar, but that was wear it ended, along with hiding the silver scales.

At the suggestion, the beak shakes. "We do not know how many are in the warehouse. Or the state the prisoners are in. Move in quickly, leave as quickly as possible. Where to take them, back to the ship is best. The group Un'eth sent with us should be waiting there to receive them."

Strike's attire has returned to the greys and blacks of her earlier adventuring days, with her jewelry left with her other personals to prevent an errant glint from giving the game away, while a dark grey scarf was wrapped around her head and hair, just in case.

She survey's the layout as best she's able, then nods, "Agreed." she says softly.

GAME: Seyardu casts Blessing of the Mole. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16
<OOC> Seyardu says, "everyone gets 30 foot darkvision they don't need, but also +2 to competence for stealth"
GAME: Paenitia rolls stealth: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+5: (4)+5: 9 (Ramirez Stealth)
GAME: Aryia rolls stealth+2: (14)+15+2: 31
GAME: Seyardu rolls stealth+2: (10)+-2+2: 10
GAME: Strike rolls stealth+2: (18)+12+2: 32
<OOC> Paenitia says, "So highest roll is 18. Stealths: Aryia 35, Strike 32, Paenitia 30, Ramirez 25, Seyardu 20"

The question of the ship brings back memories of your voyage back to mind. You've a small ship waiting for you with a large hold and a trusted crew. They're risking their livelihood and their freedom in joining you, but they never seemed to mind for a moment. It seems they've done some work freeing slaves before. A few admitted during the journey that they were recruited partially because they'd once been slaves before themselves. It's a rough-and-tumble group. Exactly what you need.

But memories of the trip won't help you now as you sneak up to the warehouse. You move as a group, stopping and moving when needed to avoid prying eyes. You make it all the way to the door without being noticed. As suspected, its tightly locked and barred from the inside to prevent escape by those inside.

Worse, one of the guards rounds the corner as you stand before the doors and spots the last member of your group as they quickly scurry toward the door. "What's that?" Says the guard, peering through the darkness to get a better look, and moves closer. "Ninthalor! I think there's someone sneaking around over here! Hey you! Get out of here!" The man draws his sword and makes a shooing motion toward Seyardu with it.

"Apologies, I did not know this area was off limits." Seyardu replies quickly as she turns around and runs off to the other side of the warehouse, around the corner and staying close to it.

Aryia, her having been used to slipping around in the dark with patrols going around, she ducks around the corner, though keeps an eye peering around it as others filter past her. Her heart quickens as they call out to Seyardu. She glances to Strike as the cloaked sith-makar passes by, her making a few quick gestures. "I'll grab them, we beat them down," she quickly gestures, pressing herself against the wall. <Handspeech>

Paenitia nods, getting the gist without understanding the signs. She'll lurk, waiting for the second guard, ready to trip him if he arrives quickly.

Ramirez, will be a giant billboard on the side of a warehouse. Yes.

Strike is given a momentary pause, down to her breath as Seyardu's spellwork restores a function, even in muted form, she'd spent the last ten years getting used to not having, anymore. There's a moment of almost childlike joy in her eyes as she regards the flex and curl of her fingers under her restored vision before her mind returns to the mission.

The Now.

LIke the fullblood, the half-Mul moves like a spirit through the darkness, only to tuck in behind some errant clutter past the mouth of the alley in case they somehow pick up a tail.

The non-feathery kind.

On the challenge from the guard, she leans back into the wall and tenses the fingers of her right hand into an almost daggerlike posture.

She nods at the sign from Aryia and replies in kind, "Agreed." <handspeech>

GAME: Aryia rolls CMB+2: (2)+12+2: 16
<OOC> Aryia says, "im spending sands"
GAME: Aryia rolls CMB+2: (13)+12+2: 27
<OOC> Strike says, "not sure if we're counted as flanking or not, but going to stunning fist"
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (15)+9: 24
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (8)+3: 11
<OOC> Strike says, "11 nonlethal, and dc 15 save"
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+10: (11)+10: 21 (Fort Save)

The guard snorts as Seyardu takes off. "Never mind. Just some stupid servant trying to take a short cut. Should have seen the outfit on that one. Someone has a weird sense of humor." He laughs and casually heads around the corner...

Just as the figure rounds the corner, a gloved hand reaches out of the shadow and yanks them down, pivoting around to pull them against the wall. One arm gets twisted behind their back while the other gloved hand clenches around their throat. Lips behind the mask whisper a threatening, "Shhhhh..." as Aryia pulls them tight against her.

Her heart is pounding loud in her ears.

GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20 +9 -2: (10)+9+-2: 17

In the wake of Seyardu leading the Guard into their little ambush, even as Aryia is reaching out to ensnare the man, Strike lashes out with that daggerlike hand posture she's assumed thrusts it into a nerve cluster about where the bottom ribs meet the sternum. It's intended to overwhelm him, and disrupt his breathing enough to prevent any worthwhile vocalizations, but it seems the man is made of sterner stuff than she expected.

The Dark Lucht lurks near the corner, waiting for the second guard to come around. She's got her warhammer ready at knee height to stick between his legs. She watches as the silverscale is briefly pursued, then dismissed, with the others then falling upon the guard.

She hears the solid connection of a fist, but these stalwarts don't have glass jaws.

GAME: Seyardu rolls diplomacy: (9)+12: 21

Seyardu heard the scuffle, and turned back around to see what had happened. At the sight, she pulls her polearm free and strikes at the guard, but their movements and Aryia's made her adjust to not hit them, and the blade glances against their armor.

"Do not move, or call. If you do, I promise you will be alright after this." She says in a low tone.

The guard opens his mouth to cry out an alarm but Seyardu's words stop him. He looks at her a bit suspiciously, but seems to decide that with the group around him that it's safer for his well-being to abide. "Fine, but at least tie me up... And don't hit me anymore!" He glares at Strike and wiggles slightly in Aryia's grasp.

Aryia takes the blow with ease, her leaning forward to whisper something faint in their ear. Only in hisses and pops, but the proximity lets one pick up the subtle intonations that are lost without vocal cords.

"Do any magic and I'll break your fingers off one by one," she threatens, before pulling her hand off their throat and rummaging around behind her to pull out a length of rope. She shoves him on his knees, ties him up with knots that only a sailor could learn, and rummages around his person. Taking weapons off, looking for keys, anything.

Strike, too long an adventurer to be stunned than something didn't go as planned, resumes her ambush spot at the mouth of the alley once Aryia has the fellow Seyardu so ably dissuaded, properly secured.

Paenitia like-wise, readies to attack.

"Thank you for your compliance." Seyardu replies with a low nod as she turns to look at the door. "There may be others, so the sooner inside, the better. Let me know if you find any keys, Aryia, otherwise, I have been told adamantine weaponry make good keys, though the lock will be obviously broken, afterwards."

The second guardsman never appears, and the first allows himself to be tied up without complaint though he doesn't look terribly happy when its all said and done. He's not carrying any keys on him, but he is carrying a decent sword. The weapon gleams darkly in the little light that's in the area. Those on look-out will notice that the other guard does round the front, but he immediately turns back around and heads back the way he came.

The bad news is that the guard for /this/ side of the building is headed toward your group. If you intend to get inside without being seen you'll need to do it quickly.

Paenitia checks the distance, estimates the time. If only Neuvo was here, he was good with locks and short fuse explosives. Sadly, one faces the challenges with the skills one has.

Hers are hitting things. This will be very loud.

"Ok!" The Red Knight whispers, "stand him up against the door, lean face in. Take the hiding positions, some distance the three directions. When second guard come to look see, smack."

GAME: Paenitia rolls stealth: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Aryia rolls stealth: (18)+15: 33
GAME: Seyardu rolls stealth +4: (7)+-2+4: 9
GAME: Strike rolls stealth+4: (4)+12+4: 20
<OOC> Paenitia says, "Stealth Synergy: Strike 34, Aryia 33, Pae 28, Seyardu 20

Paenitia looks for a good hiding spot. She flattens herself up against the warehouse wall. It works for Ramirez, it should for her.

At the warning, and finding nothing of import, she scowls and pulls out a piece of cloth, shoving it in their prisoner's mouth before following the Lucht revolutionary's commands. Body leaned against the door, and a slight tug at a finger as a reminder of her threat. She slips into a position in the dark, readying to burst over to where Paenitia is and readying herself.

Black veils waft in her mind's eye, and her fists curl in anticipation as sweat rolls down the back of her neck.

Strike nods to the directives, as it's met with success, before. She flattens into the shadows her little detritus warren provide and makes ready to slam the door behind the guard, should they step into their parlor as the last one had.

The third guard, comes around the corner, spots the first guard tied up and leaning against the door and immediately rushes to his aid. So hastily does he move however, that he only gets halfway there before he trips, falls, and lands flat on his face. "Ohhhhh. Shit!" He groans and curses his bad luck. "Xyrqirelle, this is all your fault."

Seyardu steps back and away slightly, into a small area where she had cover.

Ramirez fixes them with a piercing stare. Seyardu looks down, and tugs her cloak down where a shining silver tail had been peeking out.

GAME: Paenitia rolls intimidate: (19)+11: 30
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+11: (19)+11: 30 (Guard Will)

The running guard slips up near Paenitia's position.

She arrives in his view, short yet looming. In the dim light it looks like she's wearing red treacle. Her mask is a white oval with a wide grin. In a low, dangerous voice she says, "You have the choice, stay down or we put you down."

She sounds so happy, making this offer. The sledge-head of her warhammer spins within sight.

Against all reason, the guard isn't worried about this.

GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (18)+12+2: 32
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+12: (7)+12: 19 (Guard CMB)

Aryia dashes forward as Paenitia makes her move. She slides across the ground on her knees on steel woven cloth, and grabs the back of their hair with her hands. "Shhh!" she hisses behind her half face mask.

The guard struggles in vain against Aryia's grasp, but he has one last weapon to use against the group. His voice. He calls out the alarm to the other guards, screaming for aid against the intruders. "INTRUDERS! HELP! CALL THE GUARD!" He wiggles and throws himself around as he cries out for assistance.

<OOC> Seyardu says, "Power attack on the locked door"
GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+9: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)

Seyardu looks to the newcomer, and she sighs once they are screaming. At least it was cover for breaking the door down, so she brings the adamantine bill up to strike at the door-

And it bounces harmlessly off.

"This one was so busy trying to not kill the guard, they forgot the enchantment for the door." She grumbles, seeming frustrated with themself.

<OOC> Strike says, "ok, ki point for extra attack, flurry of blows, stunning fist off the start, nonlethal all"
GAME: Strike spends TWO uses of STUNNING FIST.
GAME: Strike spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14 (vs DC 15 - Fail)
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (1)+3: 4 (Non-Lethal)
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (1)+3: 4 (Non-Lethal)
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (18)+9: 27
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (1)+3: 4 (Non-Lethal)
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0-5: (18)+9+-5: 22
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (3)+3: 6 (Non-Lethal)

Drat!

With the guard deciding to take more pride in his work than his fellow and calling out for more assistance, Strike steps in and thrusts the point of her boot into that nerve cluster that failed her the last time.

The guard makes a somewhat satisfying half choked-half gagging sound that tells her the blow landed true, and, honestly, she's always found entertaining back in her original frame.

The half-Mul then proceeds to stomp and kick at the man with her softsoled boots, trying to give him a more lasting loss of faculties without outright ending him.

GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5-4: (8)+9+-4: 13
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5-5-4: (4)+9+-5+-4: 4
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5: aliased to 1d8+1: (5)+1: 6

Of course the competent guards would be in Charn. Paenitia thinks of the Alexandrian strain and winds up with her warhammer. At the last moment, she turns it sideways, the wide flat surface of it will strike.

Not that slavers deserve mercy. Or Authority supporting them. The little Lucht swings overhead.

>>WAAANG<<

Her warhammer clangs off the side of his head. The guard is still conscious.

Of course he is.

GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0+2: (10)+12+2: 24 (+2 Flanking)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0+2: (11)+12+2: 25 (+2 Flanking)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0+2-5: (1)+12+2+-5: 10 (EPIC FAIL) (+2 Flanking)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0+2: (16)+12+2: 30 (+2 Flanking)
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7

Aryia snarls from behind the mask, holding the guard in place as Strike unloads on them and a warhammer clangs against their skull. The disguised mul'neissa grabs them by the belt and collar, picking them up and smashing them into the ground. Again. And again. And again, only to throw them on the ground for the last one. Barely contained fury visible in her roiling eyes.

She swivels around, hands up and ready for whoever was to come. "Contact!" she warns with a sharp gesture. <Handspeech>

<OOC> Zeke says, "One guard comes around the corner,"
<OOC> Zeke says, "the other tries to escape his bindings. You never know... he could roll a nat twenty"
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+11: (20)+11: 31

The second guard comes back around, and immediately draws his sword. "Xyrqirelle! Vulas!" He glares at the rest of you and prepares to engage.

Seeing his friend come around the corner the man in bindings begins wiggling in earnest. Not that it does him any good.

<OOC> Seyardu says, "This time, another attempt to bop this door"
GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11
GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d8+6+3: (1)+6+3: 10

Seyardu looks to the two guards, but finds them both prone. She glares at the guard. "If you try to escape, then you will be struck down." She warns. Hefting the polearm again, she brings it smashing down into the wooden door, the weapon finding minimal resistance until it reaches the ground, and she pulls it free. She looks to the others. "The door should not hold much longer."

<OOC> Strike says, "draw and throw tanglefoot bag. +1 from throw anything feat"
GAME: Strike used a Tanglefoot Bag.
GAME: Strike rolls ranged+1: (20)+9+1: 30 (THREAT)

There's been entirely too much effort spent on keeping these guys quiet au natural, so Strike decides to dip into the alchemy goodies.

As the altercation continues it's backslide, the half-mul reaches into one of her bandolier pockets to pull out some home-grown mookstopper, and even as the guard is coming around the corner, she is flicking it his way in a single graceful motion.

With tendrils of ropey adhesive flailing around for purchase on nearby surfaces and limbs, the tanglefoot bag explodes as it impacts with a moist 'slap' right in the middle of his face.

Continuing to turn on her heel, she steps around a questionable piece of litter toward her current target.

GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2-4: (20)+9+2+-4: 27 (THREAT)
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2-4: (4)+9+2+-4: 11 (Not Confirmed)
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5: aliased to 1d8+1: (7)+1: 8 (Non Lethal)

Paenitia exhales a deep sigh as the second guard is rendered unconscious. She grunts at the first, emphasizing Seyardu's instructions.

There's a third guard!

Another grunt, and the little Lucht knight is rushing towards him. She see's Strike's tanglefoot bag explode in their face. She calls back, "I go low."

There's a knee in her sights. She steps in, swings and smashes it outwards. Her ever grinning Mask faces the blinded guard, "Yield. Fast, so the beatings stop. Too slow, you might go sleep. Yell, maybe you never wake up. Choose."

<OOC> Aryia will flying kick over to the guy, first attack an attempt to trip with improved trip,
<OOC> Aryia will then will decide rest of attack once seeing that resolve
GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (9)+12+2: 23
<OOC> Aryia smiles. "Viscious stomp AoO. Stunning fist with it."
GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 5 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (11)+12: 23
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+10: (13)+10: 23 (vs DC 17 fort)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (5)+12: 17
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (9)+12+-5: 16
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7

Aryia sprints after Paenitia as they charge after the third guard. A smirk forming as they are glued down and had their knees clobbered. She hops onto the adjacent wall, boot falls running against it to gain some height as she leaps over the Lucht knight and grabs them by the collar on the way down. Her hand releases as she spins in the air, boot clocking them on the side of the head on the way down to sickeningly bounce off her laces. She goes for a few more swipes, but misses from her heart rocking her focus.

The mul'neissa blinks, dark eyes reflecting back at her for the briefest of moments before she just jabs a finger at them. A universal, "Stay down!" <Handspeech>

After Aryia puts the second of the three guards on the ground, he lays there rolling and clawing (ineffecitvely as his hands get tied up in the tanglefoot bag), at his face. He doesn't seem to understand you. He's blinded, muffled, and too afraid to hear you. So for the moment, the three guards are unable to do much of anything but lay on the ground in various forms of uselessness.

"They are taken care of?" Seyardu asks from where she was at the door. She reaches inside to see if there was a lock on the other side, so she could open it, and drag the bound guard inside. Failing that, the door couldn't take too much more, could it?

"I take the sticky one," the Red Knight says, approaching the blinded guard and pushing him into a ball. Where she can, she smears more of the tanglefoot around, primarily by pushing his clothing and armour into it. When he's arranged for carrying, she picks him up and walks back to the main entrance.

"The shoulder check, Friend Dragon, often push open." She suggests, "I have the more rope, once inside."

Letting out a shudder, Aryia nods and wipes off her gloves on the ground, her grabbing the unconscious one by the scruff and meeting the others by the door.

Strike nods as everyone takes up their respective tasks, and takes up a lookout position just to make sure no one gets too curious over their activities while the others see to things.

The door can't take much more. There's a bar on the other side, but it's made of wood also and a few more swings break the way inside.

Inside is pretty much what you were led to expect from what Mikilos told you. There are cages of different sizes and variations but along a similar theme. Many of them are empty at the moment, but more hold people. Humans, elves. Mostly sith-makar. A few of the other races. The cages are all locked, and the people who are held within bear the look of people who have given up on hope.

The most notable area is where a large section of slaves are held, all of them piled against one side of the cage that is too small to hold them, and beside it a single sleeping sith-makar whom is in a cage of his own. One of the slaves in the larger cage is injured, and he rises to his feet at the sight of you. It's a green-scaled sith-makar, his horns shaved down to keep him from injuring anyone with them. He starts talking to you urgently in draconic and one of the other people sighs and starts translating for him.

"He hopes you are here to rescue us... says something about smelling another of the People in your ranks." The man translates idly, and without much interest. "He asks you to go to the back of the warehouse where it attaches to an outbuilding. Because that's where they're keeping his mate and his offspring. Pesonally... if you're here to rescue any of us. I'd rather if you started with us." The man laughs and looks at you hopelessly. "But they'll kill you before you rescue anyone."

"Ha! You will see what we will do!" Paenitia says cheerfully, unwilling to promise they will be resuced, in case he's right. It would be a cruel and false hope if they were captured or killed.

"Friend Dragon, you would be best for go to the back. They need heal here. I think, if you do not go, I go. Aryia or Strike, they will get the bad shock."

Because there's nothing terrifying about half a person in a grinning mask. "This sound OK?" The Red Knight starts for the back. Short legs, she has to get a move on early.

Seyardu smacks the bar with her polearm, and with a bit of effort, shoves the mostly destroyed door open, dragging the guard inside. She looks around. It was, a horrifying sight, but also, a reassuring one, in some way. She quickly busies herself checking the cages, how they were locked. The plague mask is pulled off, and vanishes into nothingness. Her focus is on the locks to the cages, and the state of those inside. She moves to where the translation was given, and nods. "He speaks true, and we will do everything we can to rescue you all." She says gently, gesturing the sith-makar closer. "You are injured, allow this one to mend your wounds. We may need to leave quickly afterwards." She says, turning her attention back elsewhere. "Do you know where the keys are held to the cages? We can likely open them without them. Can you tell us more about the back room?"

Seyardu looks back to the others. "This one would not feel right, leaving them. We should determine a course of action, now."

Strike brings up the rear as they get inside, taking up a new position inside the door.

The conditions don't shock her, there's too much history not to have expected something like this going in. As it is, she spends some time taking out a yellowish pouch similar to the one she'd used in the warehouse in Alexandria, looking back to the others as they work out the storage problem, "I have two acid vials, plus a magic garment that could potentially help them squeeze through the bars, but it would only work a few times on a given day."

While she doesn't speak draconic, she does recognize it, and on Paenitia's rebuttal, she nods, "Good thinking, I'll keep watch here, let me know if anything I've got will help."

Being here. Seeing the cages. The people. The smell. The taste in the air. It floods memories back for the mute woman. A life of servitude, her once holding such hopelessness that these very people held. Her fists curls, leather scrunching underneath her grasp. She knows that any delay might set them back and return empty handed.

Aryia stands there, motionless while others act. She inhales deeply. And gestures with a trembling hand. "We may not have the time to run back there," she signs, being brutally realistic. "Seyardu. Tell them to stay here but bust open the locks. They shouldn't run just yet, for fear of retribution. If we do this, we may have to face more guards."

"Besides," she looks to the back door. Violet eyes look back at her as she blinks. "We need to stop every fucker in this warehouse." <Handspeech>

The man finally rises to his feet, looking mildly interested. "So you really are here for a rescue?" The sith-makar rumbles in draconic and stays away from the bars. "He's refusing to be healed until you rescue his family. More's the fool he. If you're really here to save us though, stay away from that cage." He points to the one with the lone sith in it. "He's rabid or something."

The green-scale rumbles a word and the man shakes his head. "Whatever you mean by 'forgotten' I don't know. I sure as heck haven't forgotten that he nearly tore your arm off. As for the back room... none of us have been back there. Those that go in don't come back."

He looks a bit worried. "They started with the ladies and the kids. Taking them back I mean. I don't know how long ago. Days. One at a time. I think they're selling them."

Paenitia clucks loudly as she passes the main doors, a peahen noise that her mount will recognize. Sure enough, he is soon squeezing his feathery self through the doorway, then his tail. "Ramirez, watch, be ready!"

Order given, she continues to the back, looking around for keys or crowbars. The same thing, really, though one is easier on locks than the other, both will open them.

Is she close enough to hear the man's warning, that this is where she will find the women and children. Does the Dark Lucht let this thought linger in her mind? No. She ignores the smell, the filth, the implications. She will find out.

Eventually. Clank. Clank. Clank. Towards the back doom. Room. Back room.

"Yes, you are right, Aryia." Seyardu sighs, looking to the back room, to the lone sith-makar. "Please, stand away from the bars, I will break open the doors." She warns, hefting the polearm. They look to strike and Aryia. "Use the acid on those closest to the back. It's quieter." She suggests, looking at the other cages. Finding one closer to the doors, she begins the process of breaking it open.

Well, since the featery phenom is being pulled in to keep watch, Strike draws back with a little thumb's up to go to help see to the prisoners.

She pads along toward the back, considering the scarred fullblood a moment, then whispering softly, "Breathe. Focus on the goal. Feel later." so as not to unduly risk making a scene. <sildanyari>

She reaches into one of her other pouches, pulling out an ampoule, while the other hand returns the flash powder to it's place. Once her tools are properly swapped out, she examines the locks decreed, trying to discern the weakest point to apply the acid.

Aryia purses her lips as the others get to work, her taking one of the vials of acid and pouring it on the lock for one of the cages of captured souls near the back. A memory forms in her mind, pain flaring in her throat, and she twists her neck to the side to crack it. She holds a finger up to where her lips are, and makes a motion to stay calm.

She glances behind her, watching the Lucht investigate the back.

The back door isn't locked. Maybe they don't expect anyone to get this far. Maybe they're arrogant. So its easy enough for a small form to open it. To peek inside. Perhaps, even slip within.

Within is a scene of defiance and horror. The women that remain - only six or so - have gathered around the remaining children - perhaps ten - who have not yet been locked into a large cage in the back of the room. The guards are in the process of forcibly removing the women from their protective stance by any means they feel is necessary. When one woman falls, another takes her place, but it's not enough to protect the children. Eventually another one is torn away and carted off to the cage.

The overseer of this event is a man in a black robe with white spots on it. He orders the guards to work harder, and so they treat the women with even less mercy. One of the guards drags a woman off who had gotten a little too badly beaten and takes her out through a door that simply - should not - exist. Certainly your scouting didn't reveal it. The man returns a moment later to help his fellows tear another child out from the protective phalanx that the women are valiantly trying to provide for them.

GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (14)+4: 18

The guards are beating the women with these black rods that seem to emit an electrical charge.

The Red Knight slips in. She is stopped in her tracks. The scene, the sight, the smells, the cruelty and obvious fear on the faces of the women and their children. This will not stand.

"I AM SISTER PAENITIA SNAPDRAGON DEL HARANNA!" That breath of air seemed poisonous, she points her warhammer at the Overseer, "You will fight only me. Ignore me at your Peril."

Next, her weapon is leveled at the other slavers, "Away from them. Cowards with shock weapons!"

<OOC> Paenitia says, "+2 for charging, -2 to my AC,"
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2: (3)+9+2: 14

"Raaaaaaaaaaaah!" Paenitia yells, charging at the overseer in the strange mask. She has her own mask to match, a Smiling Man, the wide grin of anarchy. Warhammer raised, peacock feather-cloak bouncing behind her, the Red Knight rushes up.

A swing and a miss.

Tarien's little joke has joined the fray.

That battle cry. Aryia has heard it at least a dozen times with her work with Paenitia. She abandons her task and sprints into the room of doom. Blue boots skirting along the the ground as she skids to the door and throws herself into the room. She skids to a halt, and her heart stills.

Shimmering eyes widen in terror.

The sight. The smell of ozone in the air. A quarter dozen decades of torture and servitude hit her like a sack of bricks.

Base instinct kicks in as gloved hands reflexively go to protect her face.

"N-N-...! P-Pl-s-... d-n't..!" she stutters out in a hiss. <Undercommon>

GAME: Seyardu casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17

Seyardu was hacking at one of the doors when she heard the call to battle. Her hands tighten on the haft of the polearm, and she looks around. "Do what you can to open the last of the cages." She calls to those present before she sprints to the door, pulling her holy symbol free. The prayer is called hastily as she looks to those present. The group is filled with strength and alacrity, as are some of those in the room. "We will hold this door!" She hisses to the captives, as she readies her weapon. <Draconic>

GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17: (20)+17: 37 (THREAT)
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17: (12)+17: 29 (Confirmed)
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17: (7)+17: 24
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+8: (5)+8: 13
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+8: (4)+8: 12
GAME: Zeke damaged you for 37 points. 21 HP remaining.

The man in black robes whips out a sword and hacks at Paenitia with it, cutting swaths around her armor and laughing as he does so. "Did we have a foolish halfling in our cages? Or are you here to rescue these slaves?" He mocks her with his laughter and waves his free hand at the guards. "Keep at it men! I don't need help with this one!"

Thanks to Seyardu's spell however, the guards are having even more trouble with the women than before. They urge the children to make a break for the doorway and Aryia and... presumed safety. The children are hesitant at first, but quickly accede to the women as the women turn and attack the guards en-mass.

<OOC> Strike says, "ftr, with both going, my movement is 110"
GAME: Strike spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Strike rolls cmb+2: (10)+8+2: 20
<OOC> Zeke says, "You'll provoke if you try to flank"
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17: (1)+17: 18 (EPIC FAIL) (AOO)

This trend is distressing.

Seeing the outpouring of preslaved children surging out the doorway after Paenitia's battle cry, Strike taps into the energies within herself, and, further, into the suffusion of Althea's magic Seyardu graced them with in Her name. Despite the insistent press of tiny bodies, the half-mul manages to winnow her way through at a frightening pace to suddenly be at the leader's back, ending her final closure with a leg sweep that the man manages to avoid, despite his laughable preemptive swing in her direction.

<OOC> Aryia nods sagely, grins and flying kicks over there with the extra attack from sey
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
<OOC> Aryia says, "barkskin from earlier"
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
<OOC> Aryia says, "flurry attack"
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (7)+12: 19
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (15)+12: 27
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (2)+12+-5: 9
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (8)+12: 20
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (5)+2+1: 8
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (4)+2+1: 7
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (7)+2+1: 10

No. Not again. She can't go back. Aryia can't go back!

She stands there, mortified, the blood gone from her visage as she see's the daily woes of her thousands of days lived.

And then the magic hits. And everyone else rushes in. Chaos breaks out. Fists are flying. Lightning is arcing. Blood is spraying. One step forward. Then another. Another Shimmering eyes go vacant as trails of shadow wisp from in her wake as her stunned steps become strides. Strides become leaps. And leaps become a drop kick sent from Kor himself.

Aryia throws herself into the throng of slaves, joining them in their anguish, their turmoil, their faint glimmer of hope as she lashes out with deathly strikes. As behind each punch, kick, bite, and claw.

Is a hundred years of pure, unadulterated.

Rage.

<OOC> Paenitia says, "full attack, +2 Flanking, +2 challenge, extra attack from the BoF"
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2+2: (20)+9+2+2: 33 (THREAT)
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2+2: (13)+9+2+2: 26 (Confirmed)
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2+2-4: (16)+9+2+2+-5: 24
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2+2: (5)+9+2+2: 18
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5+6: aliased to 1d8+1+6: (2)+1+6: 9 (+6 cav challenge)
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5+6: aliased to 1d8+1+6: (6)+1+6: 13 (+6 cav challenge)
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5+6: aliased to 1d8+1+6: (1)+1+6: 8 (+6 cav challenge)

The Red Knight is beaten back by the overseer's blade. She gasps as it slices through her cloak and armour. The rusted red metal isn't meant to stand up to this. Her toes tighten on the floor beneath her, and she lunges forward.

>>>Kra-KRACK<<<

A solid warhammer blow hits the man on the knee, bowing it outwards. As she reverses her swing a similar one lands, almost as damaging on the other knee.

"Drop the shock sticks! I shove them up your Boss, you see how big the asshole he is. Keep fighting, I pound them up yours."

The women are rag-tag, and heavily injured. The three guards look fine, except the one that Aryia punched into oblivion. He's bleeding.

<OOC> Seyardu says, "Okay! going to channel divinity, ignoring what looks like the leader,"
<OOC> Seyardu says, "the bleeding guard, and the 2nd most injured guard"
GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d6: (12): 12
GAME: Zeke damaged you for -12 points. 33 HP remaining.
GAME: Zeke damaged your companion for -12 points. 39 HP remaining.

The others were running in, leaving Seyardu behind. She was not as quick as the others, but not one bit less determined. At the door, she steps to the side as the children funnel out, and the half-mul makes their way in. She ducks into the doorway, one hand keeping the holy symbol outstretched to release a wave of healing energy, that was very obviously leaving the guard and leader bleeding profusely. She growls to the leader and guards, hefting her weapon, and keeping the door blocked for the guards, letting any of the prisoners through if they try to pass.

<OOC> Zeke says, "Alrighty. Clutist is going to attack Pae, and tell his guards to just kill everyone left."
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17: (14)+17: 31
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+17: (12)+17: 29
GAME: Paenitia uses an AoO! 0 remaining.
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2+2: (19)+9+2+2: 32 (AOO)
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5+6: aliased to 1d8+1+6: (4)+1+6: 11
GAME: Strike uses an AoO! 3 remaining.
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2: (9)+9+2: 20
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (8)+3: 11
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+8: (1)+8: 9
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d8+8: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Zeke damaged you for 19 points. 14 HP remaining.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+12: (13)+12: 25
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d6+7: (3)+7: 10
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+23: (8)+23: 31 (CMB Grapple)

The cultist growls and the growl becomes... a monstrous thing. He quickly transforms, becoming a monstrous creature in the space of a few seconds. Even as he transforms he attacks Paenita. His claws grasping and tearing at her armor. Bleeding the little halfing's life away. He picks her up high off the ground and cackles a low growling noise that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. "KILL EVERYONE!"

The guards attack, the one that Aryia attacked, beats at her with his rod of shocking and it lights up with electricity as it hits her. Similarly the women are attacked by the other two guards and they try to defend themselves as best they can with their bare hands. Anything to keep the guards distracted long enough for the children to get away.

<OOC> Strike says, "alright, ki point, flurry blessing i'm putting everything into beating his ass"
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (6)+9: 15
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (11)+9: 20
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (7)+9: 16
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (7)+9: 16
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0-5: (9)+9+-5: 13
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (5)+3: 8

The repackaged soul continues trying to support Paenitia, for all the good she's been so far, though she's landed a blow as he transformed and moved to capture the halfling Knight. She unleashes another flurry of blows, rapidly launching punches and kicks in the being's direction, but only one seems to do more than skim the surface.

Strike has clearly been out of the field too long.

<OOC> Aryia points at 'obliterate guards and save slaves' option and does 5 more attacks
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (7)+12: 19
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (16)+12: 28
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (19)+12+-5: 26
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (11)+12: 23
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (20)+12: 32 (THREAT)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (11)+12: 23 (Confirmed)
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (7)+2+1: 10
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (4)+2+1: 7
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (3)+2+1: 6
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (6)+2+1: 9
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1+damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1+1d8+2+1: (5)+2+1+(3)+2+1: 14

Such wounds should put chattel down and in their place as the weapon sinks into the wreath of shade, finding blood as it pulls free. But it instead of submission, they find only aggression. Decades of pain mean nothing if there's a one thousand and first scar to add to the collection.

Aryia lashes out, gloves getting bloodied from the inside and outside. There is no wound unhonorable. There is no lives spared. As the tribulations of those around her fan the fires of her deep seated rage. Necks are snapped, eyes are gouged at, knees are stamped and arms are punched out of sockets.

One guard falls from a crushed throat as she all but leaps over to the next one, wailing on them on them like a raging river against a clay wall. They will fall. They will all fall.

<OOC> Paenitia says, "well I can still full attack while grappled, so I'll do that"
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2: (12)+9+2: 23
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2-5: (2)+9+2+-5: 8
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2: (7)+9+2: 18
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5+6: aliased to 1d8+1+6: (2)+1+6: 9

The Red Knight swings as the overseer transforms, smacking solidly into the man-flesh. While the thump is satisfying it doesn't seem to worry him much.

Then she is picked up. Paenitia dangles, "This the easier way to hit you in the face!"

She smacks him in the face with her warhammer. Her next two swings aren't so accurate.

<OOC> Seyardu says, "It would require a touch"
GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d8+7: (19)+7: 26 (39 from domain)
GAME: Zeke damaged you for -39 points. 53 HP remaining.

Seyardu stood at the door, but none of the prisoners were leaving yet. She sees them being struck, her friends and allies bloodied and injured by weapons. And Paenitia raised , injured badly.

She sprints to their side, one hand raising the holy symbol as she prays. "Celestial mother, mend your child's wounds, so they may sever this fiends head from their neck for their atrocities."

She reaches up to touch a dangling limb, sending restorative magics into them, closing wounds near instantly.

<OOC> Zeke says, "Okay the Cultist tries to squeeze the life out of Pae, and a guard attacks Aryia. Last guard attacks a lady."
GAME: Zeke rolls 2d8+16: (11)+16: 27
GAME: Zeke damaged you for 27 points. 26 HP remaining.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+12: (7)+12: 19
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+12: (19)+12: 31

The deranged monster ignores everything aside from squeezing the life out of the halfling its caught. Ignoring blows. Ignoring its men. It seems to care for nothing besides the blood that's dripping down its arms from her little body. "DIE!" It commands her, licking the blood and laughing horribly.

One of the guards attacks Aryia, but his wide swings miss her, possibly still stunned from her previous attacks. The last guard attacks a woman and she collapses to the ground bleeding heavily from her head. Another steps forward to take her place.

<OOC> Strike says, "ok, then ki point/flurry/blessing for all the attacks lead with stunning fist. full on kenshiro"
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3(just in case): (2)+3(just in case): 2
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (7)+9: 16
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (5)+9: 14
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (3)+9: 12
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0-5: (18)+9+-5: 22
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (7)+3: 10
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+16: (16)+16: 32

Strike's confidence best left to later concern, the half-Mul continues her desperate press of the demon trying to crush the life from the Knight of Smiles. A knuckle punch finds what should be a kidney, though it doesn't seem to disrupt the being's body more than the blow, itself.

A heel strike skates off the otherworldly flesh analogue comprising the Outsider's meat suit.

A knee to the back of a leg doesn't quite make contact.

A palm strike to the other kidney seems to ripple the unnatural viscera of the monster, but it is yet not enough to stop the press of the forty-three inch pythons running wild on Paenitia.

GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (17)+12: 29
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (18)+12: 30
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (15)+12+-5: 22
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (9)+12: 21
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (15)+12: 27
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (3)+2+1: 6
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (6)+2+1: 9
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (2)+2+1: 5
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (7)+2+1: 10
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (6)+2+1: 9

The blur of shadow and anguish walks into the weapon as it comes down, it glancing off her side as she doesn't even register the smarting of pain. A hail of fists come screaming down, their repetition of blows landing coming in sickening crunches and snaps. Leaping from this one to the next as her fellow woman in shackles falls, her scorn holds no end. And that demon hurting her friends was next on the burning fuse.

Do not go gentle into that good night, Aryia.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

<OOC> Paenitia says, "well full attack again and hope that ends the pain because one +6 CMB roll to escape isn't going to cut it"
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2: (13)+9+2: 24
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2-5: (8)+9+2+-5: 14
GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon5+2: (7)+9+2: 18
GAME: Paenitia rolls damage5+6: aliased to 1d8+1+6: (5)+1+6: 12

Paenitia squeaks as she is squeezed. There is blood. A lot. Fortunately her clothes are red, her injuries do not show, except where they spatter on the ground.

Her mask, grins widely, as if the Smiling Man enjoys the pain. Her eyes may quiver behind it, but her expression remains one of giddy mirth.

She summons strength to swing, "YOU DIE!"

Her warhammer connects. Another wet smack, that does not down her foe.

The prisoner on the ground still looks alive, barely, she's breathing shallowly. That being said - the guard that hit her IS preoccupied at the moment.

GAME: Seyardu rolls heal: (12)+7: 19
GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d6: (18): 18
GAME: Zeke damaged you for -18 points. 44 HP remaining.
GAME: Zeke damaged your companion for -18 points. 39 HP remaining.

Seyardu watches as one of the prisoners goes down. Her hand tightens, but that was not where her attention should be. As much as she wanted to impale the fiend, the guards, she was still a healer.

The holy symbol raised, and emanating more of the healing magic. She squints at the fiend, as the wounds of the lucht knight close, and those of the fallen prisoner.

GAME: Zeke rolls 2d8+16: (8)+16: 24
GAME: Zeke damaged you for 24 points. 20 HP remaining.
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+5: (10)+5: 15 (Will Save)
<OOC> Zeke says, "He breaks and makes a run for it. Aryia you get a AOO on him."
GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 5 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (15)+12+2: 29 (Trip)
GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 4 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)

The monstrous man is slowly squeezing the life out of Paenitia, even with Seyardu healing her. He laughs coldly. "All this for what?"

The guard fighting Aryia has seen what has happened to his breathern fighting her and has no want for death. So he makes a running break for it only for her to trip him as he flees.

GAME: Strike spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Strike spends ONE use of STUNNING FIST.
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2+2: (15)+9+2+2: 28
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (8)+3: 11
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2+2: (10)+9+2+2: 23
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (1)+3: 4
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2+2: (20)+9+2+2: 33 (THREAT)
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2+2: (6)+9+2+2: 19
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2+2-5: (20)+9+2+2+-5: 28 (THREAT)
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2+2-5: (11)+9+2+2+-5: 19
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (3)+3: 6
GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (2)+3: 5
<OOC> Zeke says, "Alrighty! Everyone make fortitude saves!"
GAME: Aryia rolls fortitude+1: (18)+8+1: 27
GAME: Seyardu rolls fortitude +2: (7)+9+2: 18
GAME: Strike rolls fortitude: (4)+7: 11
<OOC> Paenitia says, "Lucky luck +2"
GAME: Paenitia rolls fortitude+2: (1)+8+2: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20: (3): 3 (Women and Children Fort saves)
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d6: (5): 5
GAME: Zeke damaged you for 5 points. 15 HP remaining.
<OOC> Zeke says, "In any case, it's as if Strikes punches /puncture/ the monster and it explodes into noxious acidic gas!"
<OOC> Zeke says, "All who failed take a little damage, and are nausiated."

The creature's resiliance is... troubling, but Strike doesn't have time to fret over such things, not with it crushing the Knight so obsessively.

Seemingly regaining alignment of her transfigured body, Strike unleashes a viscious beating upon the creature, delivered in an almost machine like precision in some beats, though seeming clearly more the work of flesh in others, though her final strikes seem to rupture the Outsider's hide and releases a foul, caustic miasma about them.

Just about all of the prisoners went down from the acid burst. They have been treated really rough and aren't in the best condition.

GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (11)+12: 23
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (4)+12: 16
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (4)+12+-5: 11
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (18)+12: 30
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (3)+2+1: 6
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (7)+2+1: 10
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (20)+12: 32 (THREAT)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+1: aliased to 1d8+2+1: (4)+2+1: 7

The last guard tries to run, but a boot to the back of the leg knocks them down. A figure leaking shadow lumbers over them, uncaring as the miasma sweeps across their form. The underside of Aryia's boot is the last thing he sees, as a sickening, repeated crunch sends him to Vardama for judgement.

Lightless eyes scan the room as the people fall. She clenches her fist. Work was still not done.

The Red Knight is dropped. She lands, with loosened and crushed armour, gasping as the acid wave washes over her. She wheezes as she takes her next breath. Her stomach heaves, the fight is sucked out of her.

Staggering, she moves towards a door, back into the warehouse to get a gasp of clear air.

Seyardu blinks as the fiend ruptures. And the stench is overwhelming, the cleric nearly doubled over from it. She staggers to the door out of the worst of it. And she calls to some of the freed prisoners.

"Can any of you cast any magic? There are those in need of aid, but this one cannot this moment.

The silverscale wheezes.

GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20: (1): 1 (EPIC FAIL) (NPC Fort Save)
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d6: (6): 6
GAME: Strike rolls fortitude: (13)+7: 20

Life without pain isn't real.

Strike's world is very, very real. Since her reincarnation, she's taken certain exposures much less ably than before, and she enjoys the experience not at all.

Such as being doused in a nauseating, corrosive gas. Skin pinking and blistering as the demon's death throes sizzle at her flesh, eyes watering to try and protect themselves, the half-mul makes her way toward the cage, whezing to those inside, "Come with me!" She summons the lingering blessings of Althea before scooping up the one who seems the least able to move on their own, "We'll... get you safe...."

Three women stand up, pushing Aryia toward the cages. Urging her. "The children! You have to... *cough*" One by one the women fall, gasping and reching. Their flesh burning in the miasma. The acid doing the work that the slavers had not yet. Even so all of them are stubbornly crawling toward the cages, ignoring the damage that makes them fall to the wayside.

Aryia watches as the women plead to save their offspring, only the single word needing to be said for her to rush forward through the caustic miasma, her breath held. She fiddles around with something underneath her shirt, connecting a leather strap behind her back. The cloak ceases its magics as the cords tighten against her arms.

She gets into the cage, gesturing feverishly for the kids to latch onto her like Strike. Tears stained her face mask from the acrid scent, and the pounding of fury from the decades of hardship make those tears wisp shadow.

"P-Pl-s-..., l-t m- d- s-m-th-ng r-ght f-r -nc-," she whisper hisses through her hatred.

The little Lucht catches her breath. Two of them, that's all there is time fore. She drops her shield and warhammer. They clatter to the floor. They will slow her down. Turning, she dashes into the room once more, feeling the caustic gas flowing around her, feeling her hidden flesh tingle and tear, blinking her eyes.

She rushes over to the fallen women, grabs them, throwing one on her back, then another, wondering if she can manage a third and ready to bolt back out again.

<OOC> Seyardu says, "Going to get as close as I can, and chennel energy on the room"
GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d6: (17): 17

There are a few sith in here, but all the sith younglings are in the cage.

Seyardu blinks the acid out of her eyes as she retches from the smell, and the burning. The room was spinning, but the requests of the prisoners snapped her back to focus. Had there been more children in there still? She was too focused to see.

Seyardu turns back to the door, staying out of the Miasma. She shouts to those inside. "I will do what I can to keep those inside still alright." She shouts to those inside while the holy symbol was grasped in one hand, radiating with more of the healing magics as before.

"Please, let them be alright." She prays desperately in her head.

GAME: Paenitia rolls fortitude+1: (20)+8+1: 29 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
GAME: Aryia rolls fortitude: (13)+8: 21
GAME: Strike rolls fortitude: (7)+7: 14
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20: (4): 4 (NPC Fort Save)
GAME: Zeke rolls 1d6: (6): 6
GAME: Zeke damaged you for -17 points. 32 HP remaining.
GAME: Zeke damaged your companion for -17 points. 39 HP remaining.

Several women rise back up to their feet, aiding the children like you yourselves are. The children are having a rough time of it, but they do the best they can. Older children shoving younger ones forward. Helping them into your aiding hands. The smoke makes everything difficult, but everyone helps. Everyone does their part to get everyone out.

Seyardu wanted to help, desperately so. But she had to stay back, to help how only she could. The children are helped out with her assistance, gestured behind her, while the rest of her focus was on making sure everyone in the room was healthy. Just as quickly as the acid burnt, healing magic was sent outwards from the holy symbol held in her hand. More healing, more people helped out of the room. By the time it was nearly clear, the silverscale was breathing heavily, kept up mostly by her polearm. She was just praying, that with all the people being carried out, none would be completely still.

Joyously emburdened with those she's stepped forward to rescue, Strike, still barely able to see for the stinging tears, and burning inside and out from the noxious release from the demon, nods to Aryia, "We'll get you out... just hold on!" Still calling on Seyardu's spell, the halfbreed war machine carries those her strength can bear out of the room to where the air is sweet ambrosia by comparison.

She sets her armful down once near the relative safety of the outer room and spends a few moments coughing the acidic fumes from her lungs.

Aryia, using the last of the blessing of Althea, Celestial Mother, grabs more and more children, more than should be feasibly possible for the short elf. Two are held under an arm. Three are held in a stack over an arm. And once she was all out of surface area, she sprints out of the room. It is bumpy ride with all the weight, perhaps even jostling the ones on her legs.

But she bursts out of the cloud, haphazardly placing children on the ground before she windmills her arms to keep herself from toppling over from the weight. They all pull off. She falls to her knees, heaving heavily as she is completely drenched in sweat.

Her head falls back to the ceiling, only dripping shadow now from her elbows and chin. Muscles taught and tense, neck corded. She has no voice, but she must scream. Facing your nightmares head on tends to do such a thing.

A monstrousity moves in the miasma. A humonculous with short legs and massive shoulders. A whispy, leering face is glimpsed through the waves of acidic air. Lumpy, it has too many arms, lumbers with an ominous creak of each step. What new horror might this be stepping through the door?

It is Paenitia, Knight of the Pillar, carrying as many children as she can. They cling to her back and each other, an inverse pyramid of persons.

It's a few moments before everyone catches their breaths, but the men have busted out of their cages and they help too. Carrying the crying children out of the warehouse past the prone guards. Nobody pays them any heed. Everyone heads out the way you came in, toward the docks and actual safety. Everyone it seems... made it out of the room alive. And while you might not have rescued /everyone/ who was turned into a statue, there were actually more slaves in the warehouse than you had accounted for. The ship rides very low as you head out of Charn.

There is much singing to be had then.

Ghoulish cp line.png

Combatty

 ===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
 ---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
     22   Aryia            6  
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     17   Paenitia         1  
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     10   Seyardu          1  
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  >> 8    Cultist          1   <<
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     5    Strike           4  Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)               
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 ==============================================================================