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Kiira'Tiru III; Continued explorations
Topic Started: Mar 10 2007, 05:41 PM (2,065 Views)
eocine
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Sometimes you just have to burn the card fate dealt you.
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Given the time to be careful and methodical in her search Fade still managed to turn up nothing, and so, once she was certain it was safe, Caine and Kellindel stepped forwards once more to pull open the doors and reveal the magical laboratory that lay beyond them.

If the previous room had been virtually stripped bare of magic, this one seemed to positively teem with it…

To the left of the door a boiling vat of noxious chemicals bubbled violently, though a tidemark scored into the metallic container indicated that it had been going on for some time, and that there seemed to be no imminent danger of anything exploding or releasing hazardous fumes into the air. These chemicals were a vibrant red colour, and smelled faintly acidic, but nothing worse than that.

Alone amongst the group Avelaer was able to realise that the chemical morass was actually the central ingredient in the creation of an Alchemical Golem, a powerful and distinctly unusual type of construct, that was formed by pouring this potent mixture into a thick membrane, and then adding a spark of life. What this created was a being unlike most other Golems, formed of a virtually living liquid, only constrained by the tough and regenerating membrane that surrounded it.

Around this vat were a collection of empty potion bottles and pages of information, much of it discolored by the proximity of the alchemical goop, which had occasionally spat its acrid contents over the sides.

Further away a vast selection of books on the creation of Golems and other constructs, as well as a large section with titles such as ‘Dispelling theory and its applications’, and ‘Antimagic studies’, all apparently key tomes in the abjurers studies. Some of these books too had suffered some slight discoloration from the chemical vat, though in their case it seemed more likely that they had just come into contact with the fumes than actually had anything spilled onto them.

In an alcove just beyond the library part of the room stood a humanoid figure, seemingly formed of clay. There was no detail cast into the image, no facial expressions at all, nor were there any other adornments. Perfectly smoothly cast it stood by in silent guardianship over the laboratory.

There was one jarring splash of colour to the clay figure however. Its fists were covered in ominous dark red spots that had soaked into the clay…

Continuing the circle around the room a scrying crystal stood, just to the other side of the Golem, but its magic had been negated by the presence of the Gatekeepers Crystal close by, and the image was dimmed out. However whilst they couldn’t see anything in the depths of the sphere there was a small note attached to the base, upon which was written, in Draconic, Imprisonment spell at work.

Moving further along a desk was set against the wall, covered in various papers and diagrams, most of which seemed to relate to the creation of golems and other constructs. There were also other notes visible on the enchantment of weapons and magical items, that were carefully filed away into various piles and folders.

Behind the desk a section of the floor was covered in a bright blue marble effect, etched by some kind of acid or similar, and inscribed with magical words and descriptions. Around this area of the room all of the spell-casters, be they arcane or divine, felt that something was wrong somehow, something missing from the very fabric of being that should have been present…

It quickly became apparent that somehow they had created a dead-magic zone in the room. Something that must have taken a huge sacrifice and power to achieve,

Moving away from this weave sundering another Golem stood, unmoving and silent as the previous one. This one though was not fashioned of clay, rather it had been formed from stone, carved into the shape of a sahuagin warrior, fangs exposed and holding a trident, also formed from stone.

In common with its clay brother’s fists, this weapon was discolored with something that could have easily been blood.

Away from that a curiously old and battered looking barrel stood, filled to the brim with the cracked and ruined remnants of old swords and other weapons, misshapen and half-destroyed by failed attempts at enchantments. Next to that, buried into the wall, a long since cooled furnace was set, and attached to that a fire pit and a cooling trough. Finally completing that area of the room a gleaming silver anvil was stood, with an array of blacksmithing tools resting beside it on a cloth.

The final object of immediate interest in the room was the third and final golem, this one a burnished metal, hammered and formed to resemble a knight, complete with long-sword, shield and stylised armor.

Unlike the preceding room the amulet was quite clearly not on display and thus easy pickings…
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Pamela
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As Fade examined the door, Llana took the opportunity to cast another spell. If there were going to be anymore separations of individuals, this would be of some aid in their retrieval, as well as letting her know how they were doing, and who required her aid most urgently.

When nothing burst forth from the room, and the others didn’t drop into battle stances, she moved forward into view. She looked with some worried distaste at the three still figures which looked blood-stained. “Such pleasant people,” she murmured aloud, thinking of the gruesome sights they’d seen so far. Why would Abysitiba even associate with them, especially that thing?!

Her eyes quickly roved over the books and bottles, paying scant attention to them in her vain search for a medallion. She began to rise in the air, planning an aerial assault if necessary, and keeping out of harm’s way. “It looks as if this will be your forte,” she said with an apologetic smile to Skafloc.
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Castamir
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Skafloc was unaware of the dead magic zone, though he was savvy enough to know a golem when he saw one, especially as signs of previous activity were still evident on the fists of two of them.

He stepped carefully through the door, Brainbiter in both hands, held to one side, ready to lash out at only the slightest movement from anything that looked vaguely threatening.

As usual he didn't speak, there was nothing to alert anyone too that he didn't suppose they could see for themselves, and he he didn't want to disturb anyone else from their examinations. He did however offer Llana a crooked grin.

"My axe has been still for too long already." he said quietly, willing the golems to move of their own accord...
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eocine
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No sooner had the doors been swung open than Caine retreated backwards, away from the foul, sulphurous odor that streamed from the bubbling vat of chemicals. His eyes rand and it felt as if his nostrils were being scoured by fire. There was nothing on the face of Faerun, or even wandering about the heavens themselves that was going to get him into that room, for he simply couldn’t bring himself to put his preternaturally sensitive nose through that. The others would have to deal with the dangers that were in the magical laboratory he would wait outside and ostensibly be guarding the room…

Of course he could easily enough change back to his human form, the lack of battle so far had left him mentally alert and decently lucid, his human side more in control than his bestial side. Unfortunately though there was still the issue of clothing to consider, and that one thing would relegate him to a position outside.
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eocine
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Anaara swept into the room behind the others, looking around the laboratory with a wrinkled nose, either though disgust at the scent, or distaste towards the obvious arcane slant. Something that she rarely saw in her homeland. Whilst there were mage schools she generally kept out of them, after all amongst the Drow the divine magics were held in far more respects, after all they were the province of females only, and as such were elevated over anything that the pitiful hordes of males could achieve.

Golems were uncommon amongst her people, and so she paid them little enough mind as she looked through the room as best she could, but this was hardly her area of expertise.

Only a few moments passed before she became impatient with the task of looking through the room, and she crossed to the desk and started angrily yanking the drawers open and riffling through them, muttering under her breath about such things being beneath her dignity.
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eocine
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Kellindel watched curiously as the hairy-assed figure of Caine backed out from the lab and kept on backing off, eyes streaming and clearly trying not to splutter. He himself, whilst aware of the chemical stink, wasn’t affected nearly as badly, and so enjoyed the sight of the fellow start to wheeze… Ahh yes, whilst he was undeniably an Elf, his mother had told him so after all, he was by no means the type to be overly discomforted by unpleasant odors.

After all if you spent enough time amongst humans then you were either going to get used to that type of thing or you were going to end up with wrinkles etched across your nose as you’d spend all the time screwing it up in disgust…

“So… Golems then ehh?” He asked of nobody in particular as he looked around the room and took in the sights of the room, including the chemical bath and the desk, that Anaara was now rooting through like a hog searching for truffles.

Well… Perhaps not a hog.
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eocine
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Whilst the others went through the rigmarole of trying to find the second to last amulet that would, hopefully anyway, allow them to ascend from the current level of the tower and hopefully face off with Vaerilmor, Karosin simply leaned against the door frame and tapped his fingers against the stone.

This was now getting foolish, every moment that they wasted trying to find these benighted amulets was time that the Fey’ri could and almost certainly should have been using to prepare for their arrival, and to entrench themselves ever better.

And that still didn’t cover the fact that they could easily be summoning virtually untold amounts of Demons and Nycaloths in this time.

He turned his head into the room, regarding the golems for a moment with a look that mingled distaste and perhaps a hint of distress at possibly being forced to fight constructs.. It was a thing that he never enjoyed doing frankly, battling either the magically created or the undead, for the simple reason that they didn’t feel pain.

After all he could be pretty sure that, were he to hamstring someone, or slice off one of their fingers, that it would certainly give them pause for though, and all him to create some distance between himself and his opponent. With Golems and the rest of their ilk though there was no such respite, because they were scarcely aware that anything was different, and had no pain responses. More than that was the fact that feeling pain often meant that you could feel fear… And fear was one of the greatest weapons that anyone could wield on the battle-field.

If your enemy fears you then he will almost certainly make mistakes out of that fear, and an enemy who makes mistakes is not long for this world…

And that was without mentioning their massive strength, or the fact that the vast majority of magical attacks had no effect on them at all. All told he would far prefer to face another pit-fiend than a trio of Golems, at least then you could vaguely tell when the hell-spawned beast was about to drop…

He turned his head to watch as Anaara started ferreting through the drawer, hoping against hope that the blasted thing would be in easy reach as the others that they had found this morning had been, but in a few moments she looked up with an expression that clearly displayed that her search had met with no kind of success….

The bubbling vat of chemicals didn’t bother him at all, his own word occasionally required that he make use of certain alchemic creations and texts, in fact he was, whilst by no means an expert, at the very least a halfway talented layman in all things alchemical, and as such he recognised the creature that had been midway through being created.

To speak frankly he was glad that it hadn’t reached completion.

If I were a fool, content to be cloistered away in a tower for endless years where would I keep a magical amulet? Pondered the assassin to himself, before coming to the conclusion that ‘around my neck’, was in fact the only real answer.

Unfortunately neither the previous tenant of this room’s neck, nor any other part of his body was to be seen.
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Pamela
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“The golems,” Llana murmured. “One of them might have it, or hidden inside them. That’s my own guess,” she suggested. And if it’s not, I’d still feel more comfortable knowing that they were destroyed…

Still, she didn’t feel right in destroying them without cause, and was willing to give the…things…the benefit of the doubt. Will they even understand our tongue? It’s at least worth a try. If not, I still want them destroyed. That isn't paint... She called out, “Golems, if you are able, speak- where is the amulet, and what is required to retrieve it?”


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eocine
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There was a reasonably lengthy pause after Llana’s words, before a creaking sound issued from the iron golem as it turned its head towards her, the previously dim eyes now glowing with a sky-blue light. The massive metallic figure then took a single half step forwards.

“Politeness would be a good start in terms of what was required”, came a distinctly incongruous voice from the massive automaton. For whilst the being itself was a huge and powerful physical presence, the voice that issued from it was as dry as parchment, and about as old as the process that created it.

“It seems to me that the manners on display in the current day and age have taken a very distinct turn for the worse. Not that I blame you of course, after all if the elder generations were prepared to be disciplined then the younger ones would know where they stood, and would mean that we would all be spared such unpleasantness.”

He continued…

“Back when I was learning the arts magika you could be assured that nobody would have dared to enter a wizard’s laboratory and start to make demands. But now if it’s not demon’s and the like it’s half-elves. In my day though Demon’s knew their places and respected their betters, so much has changed and let me tell you! None of it is for the better!”

The golem turned back to them all once more…

“Anyway, what were you all wanting? I only ask out of curiosity though, I might not be of a mind to help.”
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Pamela
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“You’ll have to excuse us,” Llana replied in an equally dry tone, her private amusement well hidden. Wonderful, a cranky golem...

She gestured to the others to stop their search, before turning back to the golem, still ready for any sign of an ambush. “Unfortunately, most of these rooms have been long abandoned by all except the demons, so we were unsure if this was to be another trap. We will be happy to leave these quarters, and its contents, if you could help provide us with a medallion which is apparently used to reach the next floor. If it is any consolation, we require this amulet in order to deal with the demons. If you wish, I can promise to return it once we have dealt with the matter upstairs. Does this seem fair to you?”
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Darkwind
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Golems. He hated golems--even more than dragons. Dragons he could do something about, but he was almost useless against golems--the best he could do is summon creatures to fight them. Consequently, he fervently hoped that this encounter would be brief.

Greg replied gravely. "Pardon us. We would not have bothered you, ordinarily, except our only choice is to leave here, our mission unfulfilled, but that would leave quite a lot of comeuppance undelivered to a certain fey'ri mageling. If that has any significance to you, accept it as both our excuse and reason for our request."
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Mistress Elysia
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Wrinkling her nose at the acrid stench of the room, Fade quickly ran an eye over the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She still felt a little shaken at the apparently mundane room the had just encountered, and so wasn't feeling in the mood to particularly trust anyone or anything - which was saying a lot, considering her already mistrustful nature.

Upon spying the golems, the fey'ri groaned inwardly to herself... Golems. It had to be golems. Can't backstab 'em, can't poison 'em, can't hamstring 'em; resistant to most forms of attack other than brute strength, and able to shrug off magical attacks like water off a duck's back. Might as well go into battle with a bit of paper.... As the only one here who could probably deal enough damage to slow the contructs down if the turned nasty, the rogue quietly made her way over to where Skafloc stood.

"If this goes badly, I think this one's over to you, maestro..." she commented, her voice barely above a murmur as she followed the conversation that Llana had struck up with one of the creatures.
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Castamir
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When the lead golem revealed that it was still alive and kicking (insomuch as a golem could truly be considered 'alive') Skafloc shifted his stance and raised his axe slightly, his mouth curling up on one side to something that could almost be called a smile.

It seemed intelligent though. Too intelligent for even the limited experience Skafloc had. The few he'd encountered had been simple creatures, immensely powerful, but hardly articulate. He stood silently as once again Llana tried reason first.

If it didn't work, well despite the fact that the party as a whole was woefully short of brute force, brute force would have to be applied, and if that was the case, the barbarian and his unnaturally sharp, heavy axe, was only too happy to test his brand of brute force against that of the golem. It was a currency Skafloc traded in, and while he was as much use as a chocolate fireguard in matters of arcane mystery, or even written word, when it came to well directed brute force, he was a very effective tool.

Fade's approach wasn't acknowledged, Skafloc maintained his silent and still vigil, though at her comment his pale blue eyes flicked towards her for a second, his half smile briefly growing into a grin, before fading once more, his eyes returning to their study of the golems.
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eocine
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“Actually no…” Continued the Golem in his oddly dusty tone, “I don’t HAVE to excuse you at all, I might choose to, or I might not, but either way it won’t be because I have to.” The construct sighed the sigh of the terminally unhappy and then turned its soulless gaze towards the rest of the room. “I suppose though that I myself should forgive you all for dressing like hoodlums before coming into my laboratory? Going about armed isn’t something that I feel should be encouraged, and what is wrong with putting a little starch into your collars? It helps keep your heads upright, and an upright head is the sign of an upright brain.”

There was a momentary pause as he seemed to tune back into the conversation, and he regarded first Llana and then Greg again. “It’s just want want want all the time these days isn’t it?” Asked the being rhetorically. “Back in my days we knew how to work for things, and we appreciated them more and respected the sacrifices that others made to ensure that things were safe. We certainly didn’t go around asking wizards for their amulets without so much as a calling card first. Or even a nice bottle of wine.”

He’d been about to comment on the demonic activity when he became aware of a low pitched mumbling from the direction of the strapping spiky haired fellow and the red haired leather-clad woman with the tail. Pierced no less, the height of vulgarity. What her parents must have thought was anybodies guess. Well one thing was for certain, he wouldn’t let any child of his out of the house looking like that.

Especially not if she went around interrupting!

“Silence at the back of the class!”

Came a swift rapprochement from the Golem, and his head swiveled towards Fade and Skafloc. “Just because I’m not looking at you it doesn’t mean that I can’t hear you, and I will thank you not to talk in my lessons.”

He turned back to the sorcerer and cleric, “I suppose you can borrow the amulet, it’s not like it’s doing me a lot of good here, and there’s no real reason to keep it… But I’d better get it back before the end of the day.”

With that the central chest cavity of the golem hinged open, and one of the beings massive hands reached into the gap, rooting around for a second before pulling the amulet out and handing it to Llana.

“Now I'd like it very much if you all left, I have so much to prepare for and you've already slowed down my reserch quite enough", said the previously entirely immobile golem.
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Pamela
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Llana internally groaned at the ongoing, self-pitying lecture. Count on wizards to create a creature that reflects their own miserable natures, she thought with private amusement. Her face, however, was schooled into a meek acceptance, though it did slip badly when Skafloc and Fade were called to task. Unable to contain herself, she nodded her head like a teacher's pet, grinning. Oh gods…must keep a straight face…she thought unsuccessfully, as she brought her hand up to cover her smile and gag her treacherous giggling, lowering her heard at the same time.

Control was quickly regained when the cantankerous golem opened its chest cavity. Now, the Sunite gave a genuine smile, but was still moved to an ironic curtsey at the ‘loan’. Feel free to follow us if we’re not back by then, she thought wryly, Though I’m sure you’d only fight the fey’ri enough to take the amulet and return to this smelly chemical tomb… “Of course, sir,” she murmured smoothly, turning with the amulet and quickly making her way out of the room, her shoulders beginning to shake as she was racked by silent laughter.

Oh, blessed goddess, if they could always be this easy… What a story this day has been so far… When she was out of the room, she waited till the door was closed to voice her laughter, her ribs aching. "I'm sorry; it's just a combination of stress and the absurdity of this morning...Only one room left now," she said, and began again to sober up as she saw once more the ebbing and waning wave of evil.
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eocine
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Unable to approach the Abjuration Laboratory due to the incredible chemical smell pouring off the vat, Canie had instead spent his time pacing back and forth in front of the door that appeared to have been designated to be their next target. This room itself gave off a strong odor, this time of flame and ozone, as well as the unmistakable tang of blood, a scent that was always guaranteed to cause the fur on the back of his neck to stand on end, and cause his lips to peel back and expose his razor sharp row of fangs.

Fangs that seemed to be becoming more and more obsolete, at least in terms of what damage they could do to the opponents that they faced. For whilst Lycanthropy was indeed a magical curse, that magic certainly didn’t work to enchant either Caine’s claws, nor his fangs.

And that lack was one that he was keenly feeling, for whilst he could cleave through a room full of ‘normal’ humanoids, they had thus far been in very short supply, and he was coming more and more aware of that fact with every new challenge that they faced.

As the others started to file out of the Laboratory though he lost his thought track, and stepped to the side, content to wait until the door had been opened, and then to hope for enemies that he could actually harm.
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eocine
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Anaara had looked up as the Golem had started talking, looking totally unabashed by the fact that she had been delving through his belongings. What she did look though was annoyed with the fact that she had felt herself compelled to stoop to such levels. It was truly something that she would be eternally grateful that no other Drow had been there to see. She resolved there and then to do nothing of the sort again at any time in the future. Far better to let the lesser beings sully themselves with such base acts.

As the Golem spoke she arched a singe eyebrow, her face a perfect mask of distaste at the whining sentiments of the construct. There was no way that her people would allow what was really no more than a servitor being to be imbued with any kind of personality. Golems were tools and no more, little different to a mobile hammer. To allow one to speak like this would be folly beyond belief.

Still, it nevertheless remained extremely dangerous to her, and in fairness to any that were more powerful in magic than in muscle, and for that reason and that reason alone she kept her own council during the absurd lecture that the being felt he needed to hand out.

When the amulet was finally handed over she simply turned on her heel and stalked out, viewing the business there as being completed. She was well aware that they now faced what was supposed to be a challenge, but the day thus far had hardly challenged her or any of the other party members…

Perhaps things would be different behind the final door.
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eocine
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Kellindel watched the golem-ical spectacle with a look that flawlessly crossed amusement and bewilderment. For whilst he had met a number of Golems in his travels, after all it seemed like a construct was really the thing to be seen with for the wizard about town, he had never actually come across one that talked before, and if there had been one that had been capable of speech he would have expected that speech to be of the ‘Thog Crush’ variety, as oppose to the dryly meandering moans of this rather unusual metallic man.

Unfortunately for the Elven bard this particular topic of complaint was one that he’d heard more times that he could count.

Normally from other Elves, and normally talking about him…

Originally of course he had been the ‘misbehaving youth’ that the Elven elders had been complaining about, now though he was officially the ‘bad influence’. Not that this was a badge of anything other than merit as far as he was concerned. Far better to be a bad influence than a miserly scrote with a broom handle wedged up his butt.

As tended to happen when a lecture of this sort was going on, Kellindel’s synapses fired and suddenly his mind had followed an entirely different path as he subconsciously wrote the moaning Golem out of existence. It was this skill that had kept him amused through most of his childhood and adolescence, and had served him well on numerous occasions since. Most frequently when he found himself listening to a pretty yet vacuous young woman. On such occasions he would tune out totally from her conversation, reacting only to certain key words, remembering to nod occasionally and look interested.

It met with far more success than such a tactic could possibly deserve.

He cocked an eyebrow as he suddenly was struck with a thought from somewhere… There was definitely something about golem’s in this region but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was…

Ah! Of course!

This forest was the one that housed the infamous Tent of Tulrun, the Tiefling Mage, who possessed his three golems, all of which were supposed to be beings of physical perfection… Now THAT would be a side trip worth undertaking.

No, wait… Damn, that’s the Cold Wood.

Still, what could you do with three pliant and easily commandable constructs like that?

Or rather, what couldn’t you do!

Aware suddenly that thoughts of a sexual rampage through the tents of Tulrun whilst they were still hardly in a safe place weren’t exactly wise, after all fighting with a stoop was never easy, he pulled himself back into the lecture, that thankfully seemed to have just about abated.

Thankfully for the best…

He considered to himself as the golem handed Llana the amulet…

No he hadn’t actually been listening, but it certainly did him some good to see Llana on the verge of laughter, for there hadn’t been even nearly enough as far as he was concerned. Still unfortunately the times for laughter seemed to drift away much too quickly, as they slowly started to array themselves before the final door.
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tarlyn
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So this is where the Mistmaster sends me? What manner of tower is this? Tarlyn ponders a moment. I hope the others who came before me are still alive. He proceeds to the door.

Uttering a few arcane phrases he looks around, ready at the first sign of trouble. Muttering to Sehanine, clutching his symbol, he peers into the stairwell.

Seeing the staircase blocked by a web, he smiles. Reaching into his pouch, he removes a torch and flint, lighting the torch and holding it to the web. He hears voices beyond the door.

So as not to appear threatening in any way to the party, Tarlyn coughs loudly to get their attention. "Pardon me, are you the ones the Mistmaster sent here in search of the crystal?" he asks. "I am Tarlyn, one who has been researching the crystal. He thought I may be of some assistance to you". He now steps through the door, hands at his side, appearing non threatening.

Tarlyn looks at everyone, then his brows raise slightly at the sight of Dark Elf! What in the name of Sehanine? And a fey'ri? This gets most curious indeed, and a lycanthrope????
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Darkwind
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Appearance of another strange elf, armed and clearly competent, gave him brief hope that he'd been missed at Evereska and another had been sent to find him. Foolhardy, perhaps, to send a single elf, but it would have been nice anyway. The man's words dispelled that however.

With a friendly nod, he replied to the stranger, in the tongue of the People. "You're right, in part. These folks, for the most part, are the ones you seek--I am only with the incidentally, however. Avelaer Lafesti, of Evereska, pleased to meet you. I was captured by the daemonfey who pollute this place with their presence--present company excluded, of course..." he added with a nod at Fade. "... and they set me free."
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn's eyes go wide at the mention of this elf's name. By the gods, is it really him?After all this time? Can it be possible?

"Avelaer Lafesti? Is it possible? I have been searching for you and we feared you'd be dead or worse! This is wonderful news! Praise Sehanine!" Tarlyn smiles and approaches Avelar. "All of Evereska shall rejoice when you return. Pardon, I am Tarlyn Catslove of Evereska, researcher for the Mistmaster and reverer of Sehanine Moonbow at your service". Tarlyn bows, then stands back, awaiting introductions from Avelar's party.
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Darkwind
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Has it been very long? Frankly, time had little meaning to him after his capture--each day was pretty much like the previous. So they did send someone. That made him feel glad, though on some level he wished they didn't have any idea of his predicament--it was embarrasing on several levels for a future weaponmaster of the Evereskan bladesingers to be captured, even by wizardly trickery. Still, his smile was wide and sincere.

"Well met, then! Later, I'd like very much to hear any news from home you might have."


"Greg Smith is my name. Very nice to meet you. Nice of Misti to send us some backup, so thank you for coming." As he spoke, he once again made his aura visible--a pearly light suddenly appearing all around him. This was getting to be repetitive. When he fought the fey'ri alone, he didn't often have a cause to display proof of his connection with the celestial powers. Now it seemed like he did it every other hour. Perhaps it was time to rethink making such displays.
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Castamir
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Skafloc raised a quizzical eyebrow at the berating from the golem. Luckily for everyone present he had a sense of humour, for he could just as easily have taken offense at the thing's words, as it's classroom tone was completely lost on him, having never been near a classroom in his life.

He did think the 'upright head means and upright brain' comment was valid though. An upright head was also easier to remove from it's shoulders with an impressive fountain of red.

He left the room last, with a bemused glance over his shoulder, though he didn't shake his head until the door was closed..

The new elf caused the barbarian to adopt a defensive stance again, watching the newcomer with wary eyes. So far he couldn't believe that the fey'ri had left them to their own devices, or perhaps they simply trusted more in the tower's 'native' guardians. Whatever, for beings of magic, surely a ruse like this was perfectly within their capabilities.

Equality for all until they had prooved themselves, in a place like this that applied to drow, fey'ri, and what Fade kept referring to a 'truebloods' too. If any of them had actually recognised the elf personally, then it might have been different, but as that wasn't the case, Skafloc glanced over to Llana, who he was aware was capable of telling good and evil apart. That was a good start.

"Can we trust him?" he asked the priestess calmly, largely ignoring the greetings that were going on. He would greet the elf once he knew he didn't have to cut him in half.
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn, upon having looked at everyone, Llana last, smiles.

Very nice spell indeed, and A worshipper of Sune at that. This bodes well for us all. That mass of muscle who is a human is most imposing. 'Tis a good thing he is on our side, I'd fear facing that blade of his! Having overheard Skafloc speak to Llana he smiles to himself.

Tarlyn nods to Llana."Nice to meet a follower of Sune. You seem quite in her favor, judging by your spell. Well met".

He nods a little nervously to Skafloc. " I am here to help,Sir. Ask your friend here" nodding to Llana, "I am not an evil servant of the fey'ri, yet worship the god Sehanine Moonbow.That is a most imposing blade you have there by the way, well met".

Tarlyn smiles reassuringly at Skafloc.He puts out the torch and drops it back in his bag.
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Mistress Elysia
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At first Fade just raised one crimson eyebrow at the golem's berating, unsure of exactly where this whole conversation was headed. She'd come across wizards with the same kind of demeanour, but animated lumps of clay and metal... well, it was a first. As construct grumbled on, Fade couldn't help but feel an amused grin tug at her left lip, although she tried to surpress it, not wanting to jeopardise their chances of receiving the amulet without bloodshed in any way.

The arrival of yet another elf did come as a bit of a surprise, though. Hands instinctively flying to the hilts of her swords, the fey'ri took a step back and instinctively dropped into a defensive stance, mirroring the barbarian and positioned herself in such a way that if she had to attack, she'd have the space to move.

"Another fucking fullblood... great" the rogue muttered to herself in a low voice, and waited for the inevitable initinal acceptance from the other members of the party, her hackles feeling decidedly raised. Skafloc's question did a little to smooth them, as did Avelaer's calm nod and comment excluding her from her kin, and so she was satisfied just to look on and see where this meeting took them.

For the moment, anyway.

No amount of reasurring smiles, however, would stop her from reacting as the newcomer reached for his bag; snapping Tholdagnir from its scabbard she pointed the sword at the newcomer.

"I've seen that one far too many times before... Hands out of the bag."

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tarlyn
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"Pardon me, I am just putting my torch away, Madam. As you can see my hand never entered the bag, i just deposited my torch". And to demonstrate his point, Tarlyn holds his hands out, empty, reassuringly. "No need to get hasty, I am here to help. not harm anyone. I f I were quick to judge I most certainly would have attacked you, seeing as you are a fey'ri, but didn't.And that's not to mention your dark skinned friend there. I don't try to jump to conclusions, this usually ends up in getting one into trouble, wouldn't you agree?"
Tarlyn says with a amile to Fade
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Mistress Elysia
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"Yeah. Torch. Of course. Do you know how many people have had all manner of nasty little tricks thrown at them after someone they just met 'just put their torch away'? Hell, I've done it myself. Oldest trick in the book."

The fey'ri lowered Tholdagnir a fraction in a vague gesture at a compromise, but continued to stare unblinkingly at the elf, not returning the smile.

"Trouble I can handle. Avelaer!" The rogue didn't mean to bark out the other elf's name, but the over-abundance of them in close proximity was making the fey'ri decidedly short-tempered. "You heard of this one? Can you vouch for him? Last thing we need is an assassin in our midst." At that little comment, she allowed her crimson eyes to flicker briefly to Llana. Well, one who's not on our side, anyway...
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tarlyn
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"Pardon me Madam, but I know not of these "tricks" you speak of. And in all seriousness, I doubt that my Goddess, Sehanine Moonbow would even permit one to pursue theier career as an Assassin. I meant disrespect to noone here and I sincerely apologise if I have offended anyone here. All I wish to do is help you come into possession of the Crystal so the Fey'ri don't."

Well now she has a chip on her shoulder the size of a Large Dragon. I just hope we can all resolve this so we can move on and recover the crystal.
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Pamela
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Llana looked over warily as the newcomer arrived, especially at his mention of the crystal. She couldn’t avoid a look at Anaara. So much for keeping that secret… She had no problem with Fade or even Caine knowing the truth about their mission. Sent by the Mistmaster or Vaerilmor to find out whether we might have the other fragments in our possession? She stood back quietly as Avelaer made his introductions, trying to contain her own bias against elves. This would be a mission close to their hearts, she reminded herself, even as she chided her initial reactions. Still, she couldn't avoid being suspicious at his knowledge of Avelaer's identity. As the ones who captured him, the fey’ri would certainly know him…

She nodded gravely at his compliment, and said, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and we appreciate any aid the Mistmaster can provide.” She nodded in agreement on the statement that he wasn’t evil, but it did not guarantee that he was not under some enchantment or geas. She turned at Fade’s expletive, then sighed mentally to herself at the eventual showdown. Thank all the gods he’s not taking offence, she thought, but couldn’t help smiling with amusement at the reference to assassins. “I very much doubt that is one of our worries,” she said, imagining how Karosin would gladly appreciate the challenge. Where is he, she wondered, while not looking around.

She turned back with a kind look at the newcomer. “Tarlyn, elves have been captured and may be held hostage in this tower. It is quite possible that the fey'ri may have broken some of them to their will, and force them to try to fight us. I will do everything that I can to avoid such an event. And for this reason, I would like to ask you a couple of questions. Could you please tell me what the Mistmaster looks like?” She hesitated, as she pondered the second question. I do not want him to reveal what it is, let alone what’s been recovered so far, but… A small smile settled on her face. “As a researcher, can you tell me as an intimate of this illusionist, what you know about this crystal’s history- in particular, an event that occurred several years ago?”
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tarlyn
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"Why yes,of course. He is a human male of around 30 years, with light brown hair and a neat beard. He wears grey or white robes and an amulet of Denier on a band across his forehead. He stands at about average height and build.
I was told by him personally that, Greg"he points to Greg as Greg did introduce himself,"is one of the agents that sacrificed himself by placing it there(the crystal).I have never met Greg before this day, but the Mistmaster did mention this piece of information to me before I left him. I belive the event you mean is the destruction of Hellgate Keep of which Greg was a part of, sorry if I do repeat myself."

I do hope this helps ease the tension now, as the recovery of the crystal is most urgent , especially if the foul fey'ri are after it as well!Elf prisoners here?This bodes ill for them. I hope we can rescue them and return them to Evereska or wherever they hail from.Now I'd be interested in knowing this Fey'ri's and the Dark Elf's story.
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eocine
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Karosin had been backing slowly out of the room when he heard a voice that was unfamiliar to him, instantly he whirled around and pressed himself against the wall, keeping himself well hidden and totally out of sight of the interloper. Interesting… Have the Fey’ri sent us a charmed plaything to put out of its misery, or could we have another stray being drawn to the herd?... He pondered to himself as he silently eased the dagger free of his wrist sheath and flipped it over in his hand, feeling its ever reassuring weight.

As Tarlyn’s reason for being there was further explained a tiny tick of amusement crossed his face at the thought that they needed more help. They were already establishing a veritable army anyway, if they gained too many more people then there would be a very real danger of them all being impeded by each other when the time came to do battle.

Still, words were cheaply given, and they had previously been warned about the possibility of facing charmed prisoners…

It was with this in mind that he scowled slightly when Avelaer greeted him with a politeness that seemed to be foolhardy given the circumstance, and the potential ‘what if?’

Still, it was hardly an unknown or even unusual phenomena, people just tended to give the benefit of the doubt far more easily to people who resembled them, in even the most superficial of ways. In some respects, and he would never, ever say this out loud, there was a tiny, miniscule, microscopic glimmer of pity for the fact that Fade faced that every day, for whilst she was clearly far too aggressive, thick headed and pig stupid for her own good, she was no more so than the vast majority of the ignorant and filthy wretches that made up the general populace of Faerun.

One of the few positives that could be said for Karosin was that he was an equal opportunities loather of people, be they human, elven, demon or anything in between.

He listened to the ongoing discussion, feeling there would be nothing to gain from revealing himself yet. If the stranger couldn’t justify his presence to his satisfaction though…
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Pamela
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Llana nodded at Tarlyn’s answer, then turned to the others. “I’m satisfied that he’s honest and not one of Vaerilmor’s decoys,” she said, and turned to Fade. “I do promise you a detailed description of our quest when next we rest; I’d meant to offer it yesterday…” She shrugged. It had been a long hard night, with many other things to preoccupy them all. “Do you mind checking this last door? I know it’s been a waste of time so far, but…”

She then turned back to Tarlyn. “No further description of the crystal, please,” she said in a firm voice. He would have to save any potential questions until later, when- if- they had any privacy. Although everyone might know the answer in an hour or so, she thought, tensing up. “And unfortunately, we have no time to talk. The quick summary is that we’re seeking an amulet that’ll give us access to the next level of this tower. Hopefully Vaerilmor and his friends will be there so that we can finally get this over with. One of them is capable of causing an earthquake, so do not underestimate their danger. As it is, there’s a presence of evil in this room that keeps varying both in numbers and degree.” She stood back and away from the door, ready for the last ordeal of this floor. She turned with one last smile at the elf. "And my apologies for the earlier suspicion."
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eocine
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The look on Anaara’s face at the sight of another surfacer was one of revulsion, and on instinct her slender fingers raised up before her, preparing to move through the familiar gestures of a spell. She managed to stop herself though before she had really started, recognising that, unfortunately, blasting the Teu'Tel'Quessir would almost certainly be met with hostile reprisals from the majority of the beings that she found herself travelling with.

Which was a pity, for she was hardly going to be enthused by the prospect of travelling with another Elf.

Especially a follower of that torporous mooning bitch Sehanine Moonbow, one who had dared to challenge Lolth in the past, and had used her foul moon-born magics in battle against the Spider-Queen.

The Spider-Queen…

How would Lolth view this occurance? Would she recognise that she was only undertaking this task that she might betray them at a later date?

Of coruse she would, for Lolth alone would have the wisdom to see what was in her hearts, and be pleased by the chaos that she intended to bring to this group, and then to as many other places as she could…

Rarely for the petulant young Drow she kept her own council, interjecting would serve nothing here, and the opportunity to befuddle and destroy one of Sehanine’s children appealed to her, as she knew it would appeal to her Goddess…

What crystal?

She thought to herself, suddenly interested in the discussion… And perhaps more interested in the way that the Sunite bitch had glanced at her after the mention of it… Definitely something to be communed about at a later date… Something is unspoken here, but I will find out what it is.

When she was pointed out by the fool, she didn’t deign to respond to him, she simply looked pointedly away and let the rest of them conduct the ‘interrogation’, such as it was. If she cared at all about the party she would have offered to undertake the questioning herself… She would have certainly had the truth from him then, after all her instruction in torture was nothing if not indepth…

Anaara smirked at Llana’s tone when she virtually ordered the Sehaninite to say nothing more on the Crystal, recognising easily enough that it was her that the other wished to be kept in the dark.

I will find out, she promised to herself, no matter what you are hiding…
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Mistress Elysia
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Upon hearing Tarlyn's description and little story, Fade cocked a quizzical eyebrow at Llana, half asking if what he said was true and half wondering exactly what this 'mission' they were all on was about. She knew she had been kept in the dark, but quite frankly in a way she was happy for it to be that way - the less she knew, the less they could blame her if something went wrong.

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes when Llana inevitably declared the newcomer as honest with nary a crossed word against him, the rogue offered a small facial shrug instead at the offer of an explanation. Re-focusing her attention once again upon the elf, she narrowed her eyes and snapped Tholdagnir back into its scabbard and with a slight, curt nod at the Sunite's request, made her way to the next door and begun the routine of checking it for traps.
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Castamir
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Skafloc kept his eyes on the newcomer throughout the exchange, and only when Llana declared she was satisfied did the burly warrior sling his greataxe over his shoulder and offer the elf his hand, flashing his teeth in greeting.

"I am Skafloc of the White Wolf tribe. You'll find our little group taxing on your ears and your patience, but we have proven effective in combat." he said, before turning his attention back to the task in hand, and taking up a defensive position at Fade's shoulder.

There would be time for pleasantries later, besides, the elf's worth was still to be judged when it counted, when blood was flying and hearts were pounding.
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tarlyn
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"I would be leery of an intruder here as well, Madam. No apology necessary. Well met yourself Skafloc.Yes there will be time for talk later.I too sense the Evil here".

Tarlyn mentally goes through his memorised and prayed for spells, pondering what he might use to effectively help them. Yes these will be fine. I think I'll be leery of that Drowess most definitely, judging by her facial reaction to me. I still don't know what to think about the Fey'ri. Yes I think we should definitely move on and finish this tower and find the Crystal as quickly as possible. Talk we may do later when this is over indeed
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eocine
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The sounds of battle were muffled, but nevertheless audible, as the party made their way towards the door, and it seemed to those in the party that could sense evil that there was a veritable kaleidoscope behind the door. Shouts and curses in Abyssal, Infernal and Celestial rang out, intermingled with blood curdling cries and the sounds of explosions and other spell effects. It was clear enough that there was a battle going on behind the door, though more than that was harder to tell.

The door again wasn’t trapped, what it was though was warm to the touch, and in a few places there were obvious dents where it had clearly been struck with an otherworldly force. The floor beneath the doorway was scorched black in places, and myrid cracks appeared in the stone around the metal door.

If one were to choose to magically protect themselves before entering this would probably turn out to be the correct time to do it…

Once everyone was as ready as they could be Caine approached the door and helped Fade pull apart the doors to reveal what was contained within.

Demons, Devils, Yugoloths, Angels and Eldarian, all engaged in one titanic and bloody confrontation. It was a sight that few mortals would ever experience, and even fewer would wish to see.

Good and Evil, Chaos and Law and everything in between.

And all fighting with a ferocity and an intent that could only come from these beacons of the highest of good and the lowest of evil.

As they watched a Hound Archon bounded towards an Arrow Demon, who carefully drew back the strings on both of his massive longbows before launching two evilly aligned projectiles towards his lupine adversary.

The green skinned demon snarled viciously as the barbarous arrows slammed into the Archon’s chest, knocking him to the floor, but this moment of victory was short-lived, as a Gelugon stepped forwards from behind him and rammed his enchanted spear-point straight through the Tanar’ri’s spine. The razor sharp point erupted from the muscle-bound chest of the demon, the ichorous blood freezing to the weapon and leaving a series of blood crystals to drop to the floor.

With a firm tug the insectoid devil ripped the spear-head free and stalked off to find another opponent.

It soon did, this time though the ice-devil was not so fortunate..

There was a loud snapping sound, sufficient to draw all eyes in the direction it came from, and suddenly, looking momentarily bewildered, a Planetar was stood… One of the highest ranking beings in all the choirs of the heavens, and glowing with a celestial radiance that seemed somehow out of place in this destroyed ruin of a room.

It took little time though for the holy being to realise, if not what was going on, at least that he had entered into a pitched battle for his life, and that there were enemies of all scopes scattered around himself.

Reaching backwards to the sheath between his wings the Planetar drew his gleaming great-sword, and hurled himself into the fray, slamming the weapon towards the Gelugon that had recently slain the Arrow Demon, with all of his considerable force. The blade seemed to almost hum as it cut through the air, and for a moment it seemed that the Ice-Devil’s carapaced head would be cleaved from it’s shoulders, but there was another sudden pop, followed by a flaring of green light…

Astonishingly the Gelugon disappeared from the battlefield, leaving the Planetar swinging at nothing. Again the bewildered look, that soon disappeared again as a Marilith reared up to engage it, swords raining down as the serpent-tailed demon slashed down again and again.

Everywhere though there were similar scenes, with only one thing in common, all of the combatants were there for only a few brief moments before disappearing, and no sooner had they vanished than another being had taken their place, all of them varying in power massively. One moment there was a Dretch, the next a Vrock, in an endless eddying sway of combat and bloodshed.
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Darkwind
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"Wow." He was stunned by the sheer chaos of it, and confused by the random appearances and disappearances. Looking around, he spotted the problem. "Looks like we have some rogue portals here, snatching up outsiders and depositing them here, then sending them back. Very strange. Don't waste your time with them. If we join the fray, we'd just be wasting our energy."

"I think I'll go investigate. Maybe I can find the amulet. Stand back from the fight." Greg activated his cloak of etherealness and began his search.
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tarlyn
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"I agree we should focus on finding the Amulet and retrieving it, Avelar".Tarlyn stares in awe at the scene of chaos as well.
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Castamir
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Skafloc's jaw dropped open for a moment as he surveyed the carnage, he couldn't help his massive arms twiching in imagined movement as he watched the combat. He knew he wouldn't last too long if he stepped into the room and joined the fray, but deep down, he desperately wanted to. A free for all against creatures like that - what a way to go, what a test of courage, skill and strength..

"An endless battle." he murmered when Avelaer explained the cause, for as long as the portals continued to operate, the combatants would continue to be replenished.

It was all he could do to stay rooted to the spot, secretly hoping one of them would see the open door and try to attack the party.
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Mistress Elysia
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Wanton carnage... violence... blood... baatezu blood...
Flaring her nostrils and taking in the sweet, beguiling smell of a long pitched and chaotic battle, Fade's first instinct was jump straight into the fray, the drums of the Blood Wars that were bred into her very bones beating mercilessly. Tightening the leash upon the demon to a near strangle hold, the rogue held herself back - this was a fight that, if she was stupid enough to get involved in, she would never have a hope in hells change of getting out of alive - when it came to such skirmishes, no matter what Sarya thought, her kind were mere target practice; meatshields and starters before the main course.

Although the presence of the celestials was unsettling, the overriding stench of the devils was like fingernails dragged down a slate unpon her nerves. Normally, the presence of those of baatezu blood would have just made Fade feel poorly disposed towards them, but the previous day's trials only compounded her natural hatred, and the fey'ri was visibly twitching when she turned to leave the room.

"You get the amulet. " she said gruffly. "I'll wait outside. I'll only cause trouble if I'm in here. Baatezu..." She paused for a moment "If they attack unprovoked, I'll stand with you. But if not..." She shrugged, although the gesture resembled more of a shudder. "I'll just be outside the door."
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Pamela
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Llana’s horror at the sight of so many demons turned into stunned wonder as the rest of the inhabitants made their way into her consciousness. What is this, she thought, staring at the battle before her. Her eyes were drawn to the planetar, and she unconsciously took a step forward. This brought her back to her senses, and she quickly retreated.

She nodded at Avelaer’s guess, and took another step back, while turning to Fade. “Even if they attack, stay back,” she said. “Or you might find yourself transported elsewhere…” She considered her own state, and added, “I’m not going to take any chances myself. I personally don't think they'll stay too long interested in our own actions, if that's anything to go by...” She gestured at the intense display of hatred. “We are nothing to them, and I'm quite thankful for that at the moment.”
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tarlyn
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By the gods indeed! We must concentrate on our mission

Tarlyn peers inside trying to see if he can spot the amulet at all.
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eocine
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Greg drifted thorough the eternal battlefield, ignored by virtually all of the outsiders that we involved. Of course a few of the more powerful beings were capable of seeing through the dimensions, but any curiosity that they had towards this occurrence was minor compared to the hatred that they felt towards their other opponents. The movements of mortals were scarcely worth the worry.

Nevertheless, much as he searched through the ruins of the conjuration laboratory, floating through the destroyed furniture and magical experimentations, he could still not see the amulet that would have taken them onwards towards Vaerilmor.

Of course finding anything in this chaotic melee was something that looked to be verging on the impossible.

As he turned back towards the door though he spotted something amiss, right above the doorframe… There, fully on display, unhidden and residing in a cracked display case, was the amulet that they had been searching for.

-----------

Once the amulet had been retrieved the final arcane marking on the floor lit up like a torch, and the others seemed to increase their levels of brightness, each of them sending a tower of light towards the ceiling.

The ceiling seemed to waver for a moment, before the areas touched by the magical radiance simply dissolved away, as this happened a staircase seemed to form out of the very air, leading upwards into the area that had opened up.

There was one door at the top of the flight of stairs, and other than that just the radiance of the red quartz…

What lay beyond the door was anybodies guess.
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn stares in wonder at the display, then smiles to himself. Magic is such a wonderful thing. I'd love to have more time to study this tower thoroughly. Maybe some other time, if the Mistmaster allows! I do hope we find what we are here for through that door

"Shall we proceed to the door?" Tarlyn asks aloud, to no-one in particular
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Pamela
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“Thank you,” Llana said to the deathless sorcerer when he emerged out of the battlefield unscathed. She turned to stare at the unusual appearance of the stairway; it wasn’t unexpected, but it didn’t detract from the phenomenon. She moved toward the staircase, laying a hand upon it as if to confirm that it was indeed real, looking up at the door. Goddess, forgive me, I do not seek bloodshed but I also do not want this to continue all day… She moved up the stairs, the battle cries still ringing in her memory.

Again the red-headed half-elf inclined her head to Fade, praying this would be the last time they’d have to ask this task of the fey’ri. As the rogue approached the door, she turned to the others. “If this should be the last floor…and if Vaerilmor has been busy with summonings, shall we consider the idea of drawing them down here?” A golden wing unfurled to dip towards the conjurer’s door. “Any distractions might be useful, after all, to lessen their numbers.” She looked at the barbarian and added with a light, apologetic tone, “It may not perhaps be completely honourable, but I believe that we are not going to lack for challenges today.”
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tarlyn
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"I may be of some assistance to the summoned filth,Llana. I can dismiss a few of the creatures if need be. If noone objects I shall magically protect myself before we continue".

Tarlyn nods to everyone and reaching into a pouch, removes some dust and granite. Uttering arcane phrases, as he sprinkles the dust on himself,the granite expires. Satisfied with his stoneskin spell, he clutches his symbol, and offers a prayer to Sehanine "Oh goddess, offer me the protection I'll need in the coming battle and the courage to continue on". Now satisfied with his fire protection spell, he ponders a moment his next spell.One last time he gestures and utters arcane phrases, casting Greater Mage Armor upon himslef. An Orb of acid will do nicely for offensive purposes. Tarlyn waits now holding his next action

"I am ready to proceed. How do we count luring these summoned creatures as well as Vaerilmor for that matter?"
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eocine
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The magically constructed stairs ascended further up the narrow staircase, one that was only wide enough to allow the group to move up it two abreast, or one in the case of Skafloc, whose extraordinary physique had clearly not been considered when it came to the design of the magical tower. At the top of the stairs the door leading to where, theoretically at least, Vaerilmor was sequestered away, was a huge and dominating panel of black obsidian, set back into the normally pink stone that made up the rest of the crystalline tower.

Karosin, who had watched the endless battle of the various denizens of the heavens and hells with more than normal perturbation, easily ascended the stairs and examined the narrow platform on the same level as the revealed door.

One thing immediately became obvious to him, it was that whilst there was space to fight up here, it really was minimal, and would be for the best if there was no combat in the immediate area here.

He would also be loathe to drag the combat out into this part of the building, mostly because opening any of the doors could prove to be dangerous, and more than that he was well aware that, were the Dwarves to end up accidentally getting involved then Llana would probably be so busy trying to get them out of the firing line that there would be a chance that the non combatants could be used against them.

Turning his head towards there crimson haired fey’ri he inclined his neck towards the door, eager for her to check it for traps and get them moving onwards. The road towards the fey’ri mage had been a dragged out one, and he was eager for it to finally end, and end in blood.
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Darkwind
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ooc: casts Stoneskin, Shield, Greater Dimension Door and Haste in that order.

Naturally, it was in the last place he looked. Grabbing it took some finesse, since the only reason he was floating was because he was ethereal. To take it, he would have to return to the Prime Material, where gravity took a dim view of such things. He managed it by grabbing hold of the doorframe and hanging long enough to retrieve the amulet. When the stairs were revealed, he took a position behind the others, as always.

"I think I'll put up a few dweomers of my own. Give me a few moments." In succession, he cast several spells to augment himself and the party, as well as his favorite tactical-movement spell--Greater Dimension Door.

"There. I think that'll do. And hopefully, we can finally be done with this Vaerilmor character and the wild-goose chase. Anyone know any magics to keep him from teleporting away? Wish I had one of those handy..."

"Hopefully, you can make a statue out of him before he can do it." A wonderful spell, that. Handy for dealing with pesky spellcasters, in particular.
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tarlyn
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Looking to Avelar and smiling at his question.

"Avelar, as a matter if fact, I do have a spell that prevents teleportation,dimension door as well as plane shifting, astral travel, ethereal travel, and all summoning spells. Let us wait a bit. I was to prepare another offensive spell, but as you seem to have more experience with Vaerilmor, than I do, I'll hold on my spell and chose this one first."

I hope this can help as they seem more experienced than I with this Vaerilmor than I am. I'll tread lightly and pay attention to what happens, and note later what was done by each one of us.
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Castamir
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Skafloc was happy to be close to their quarry, though he was aware he was likely to be a tough customer to take down. If not in terms of strength, in terms of trickiness, hard to catch, and hard to kill. But then with the spellcaster heavy nature of the group, he was farly confident they could pin him down.

The conversation between Greg and the new face in the group confirmed this, and he smied to himself as he took his position near the door, his role as walking barrier and aggravation magnet sitting perfectly happily on his shoulders.

"Try not to let him disintrigrate me in the first few seconds too." he said, a humourous bravado evident in his voice that many experience before danger, "I don't want to be turned into a sheep either." he added, before cracking his knuckles and hefting his two handed axe.
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn ponders Skafloc's statement a moment. I've no spell to protect him, but I can make him invisble, thus virtually impossible to be targetted by a spell.

"Pardon, Skafloc, I might be able to ensure you don't get disintegrated or turned into a sheep. If you permit me, I can make you in effect "invisible" so Vaerilmor won't see you. What is nice about this particular invisibility spell is, even if you do attack, you stay invisible. I'm pretty sure you don't want to hide, but this should help in protecting you from magical attacks. WHat do you say?"

Tarlyn waits for Skafloc's response, hoping he'll accept.
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Castamir
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An evil grin spread out across the barbarians face. His comments weren't intended entirely seriously, but the party's newest recruit painted an entertaining picture in his head. On the one hand, Skafloc wanted the Mage to go to hell knowing the faces of his tormentors, on the other, he liked the idea of being invisible...

He decided. "If I can't be seen, then I'm not doing my job if there are things in there to keep away from the spellcasters. Besides," he said with a wink, "I like to be noticed."
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn thought about that for a moment and chuckled to himself. Indeed I did not think he would want. And he is quite noticeable!

"No worries at all, and yes please do be noticed!"
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Mistress Elysia
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With the final amulet now in their possession, Fade felt a familiar tingle of almost nervous anticipation course its way down her down her spine, making her tail twitch. nodding at Llana and Karosins' gestures, she moved her way to the head of the group and checked the door for traps, taking deep breaths to steady herself, forcing her wandering mind to concentrate upon the job in hand rather than her treacherous kin whom might just be the other side of this door.

After completing her checks to her satisfaction, the fey'ri straightened up, stretching her arms above her head in a futile attempt at alleviating some of the pent-up, fizzing sensation she was currently experiencing.

"Everyone ready?" she studied each of the groups' faces, instinctively looking for any tell tale signs of treachery as she slowly unsheathed Tholdagnir and Lawbreaker. She then turned away to face the closed door, a grim and oddly feral light clear in her crimson eyes. The rogue then paused.

"One more thing" she siad, quietly "Vaerilmor... if possible, just incapacitate him. I want his life, and I want him to know it was me that took it."
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tarlyn
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"Might I interest you then in the same spell I have offered Skafloc. You can sneak up behind Vaerilmor, and attack him without reappearing. You need not worry about him escaping magically. I'll cast a spell to make sure he can't like I said to Avelar. I can also get you behind him magically, Though I have to accompany you for the Dimension Door. Interested?You'll get a very nice attack on him from behind." Tarlyn asks Fade.

Tarlyn thinks a moment. I'd have to cast GI on her,Invisbilty on me, DD, then once we're behind him, cast the Forbiddance. He'll hear me. Hopefully we'll be successful in our attempt
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Mistress Elysia
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Fade regarded the elf with a decidedly disdainful look upon her face as he made his offer, her initial reaction simply to brush the upstart as she saw him off by ignoring him. She had the ability to turn herself invisible - all fey'ri did - and took a perverse pride in relying on herself in battles. However, she always reappeared after attacking... the prospect of remaining invisible and being able to continue striking from an unseen position was definitely an appealing one. As for being able to get up close and personal with Vaerilmor... he might not be able to see her, but he'd know her voice, and that was enough.

"Well, aren't you the keen puppy..." The rogue continued to regard Tarlyn down her nose through narrowed eyes. "Aren't you worried that with a spell like that cast on me that I wouldn't just turn on you all? As everyone knows, my kind are notoriously fickle, untrustworthy backstabbers... still, if that's a risk you're willing to take, the spell would be useful when it comes to playing to my strengths." she flicked her head in Karosin's direction. "You might want to make the same offer to him first, though - I get the distinct impression he prefers the sneaky approach even more than I do. And, if push comes to shove, I can make myself invisible, but only until I strike..." she shrugged. "It's your call."
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tarlyn
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"I'm not worried, Madam. That's why I offered in the first place. I'm not quick to judge otherwise I'd have attacked you or her" pointing to Anaara. "Well the offer still stands, whomever might want to take of it, whether it be you or him, is fine by me". Turning to Karosin "Nice to meet you, I'm Tarlyn, well met. Once the door opens and we see where Vaerilmor, I can cast the invisibilty spells on whomever, and I, then the Dimension Door. Once we are behind him I can cast the Forbiddance spell. I'll appear after but I can take care of myself. Whomever decides to go with me, matters not to me, I am just offering a means to which we can take Vaerilmor easily". Tarlyn stops talking.
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Darkwind
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"I don't expect it to be that easy. I'd almost be disappointed if he fell to a simple backstab or two. No, he'd had plenty of time to prepare and between a stoneskin, contingencies, simulacra, illusions and abjurations I'm sure he's well protected. Assuming he stuck around to fight, at all. That cleric we saw earlier would probably be there as well. Any who have True Seeing, now would be a good time to cast or activate it--we're not the only ones with Greater Invisibility, you know."

Speaking of stoneskin and greater invisibility... it would be silly to go into combat without the former, and once in the thick of it he'd make use of the latter. He cast the abjuration on himself and readied his blade. "Let's be about it, then. The longer we wait, the better prepared he'll be."
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn nods to Greg and casts True Seeing. "Im ready. If you are all, let's proceed like Avelar says. Ma'am" looking to Fade "Interested in that spell I offered?Once inside I probably won't be able to cast it as I'll have my hands full with whatever he has planned for us."
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eocine
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Once everyone was prepared as best they were able to be Caine and Kellindel approached the massive stone doors and started to pull them open. Or at least in Caine’s case the doors moved, Kellindel on the other hand proved to be less than capable of moving the heavy block of rock, and had to step aside with a rueful shrug.

“Old shoulder injury you see, always flares up at times like this… And then there’s the hernia.”

Before long though they were able to step through the dooway, and into the hallway beyond, at the end of which was a smaller door, though this time set ajar, though they couldn’t see through it from where they were stood…

Fade and Skalfoc both though could pick up the sounds of muted conversations, though they were too far away to pick up individual words. Still the fey’ri sword-mistress was able to pick up that they were speaking in abyssal.

The doorway was about fifty feet away, and it seemed obvious that any spell casting now would immediately alert the beings gathered at the far end of the corridor.

Assuming of course that they weren’t already aware…

The hallway was about twenty feet in each direction, probably not high enough to allow flight, or at least not natural flight, and the walls were all crudely mined crystal. From where they stood now the door was about forty feet away.
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eocine
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There as a sudden and ominous silence that seemed to descend from the room at the far end of the hallway, one that seemed to swell pregnant with anticipation. Still hidden behind the doorway Vaerilmor curiously sibilant voice rang out through the hallway, echoing off the stone walls and refracting around them, causing the sound to of his voice to appear to be coming at them from all directions at once.

“”I feel that you should be congratulated for heading onwards to your deaths with such fortitude and perseverance. I would have expected such lesser beings as yourselves to have turned back long before it reached this stage. Of course it could be that I credit you all with more intelligence than your flawed and inferior forms can contain…”

“Still,”, he continued, “without wishing to get overly bogged down in the details this is your final hour etcetera and you’ll all rue the day and so on…”

His voice sounded bored now, as if this minor speech was all that he had the patience for, and that there really were other things that he could and perhaps should be doing with his time.

“Bah, I grow tired off this, kill them!”

Came his sudden, irritated outburst, and it was clear from the Abyssal roar went up in response that this command had not only fallen on receptive ears, it had also fallen on a number of ears that didn’t normally reside on the prime material plane.

The doors weren’t so much opened as obliterated, as a pair of Glabrezu’s, clearly magically enhanced in several ways, hurtled through the doors, followed by another pair, this time of minotaur-esque Ghour’s, each holding a huge great-axe that dripped with an acid strong enough to cause the crystalline floor to bubble.

Following close behind them came a serpentine Marilith, with no less than six gleaming swords gripped in her hands, and a powerful and sinuous tail that whipped back and forth behind her as she came onwards. Profane energy seemed to bubble up from her very skin, and she appeared to have focused her gaze on the red winged form of Llana.

Following behind, and shielding behind the huge demonic forms came two fey’ri, both with short spiky hair and wielding rapiers wreathed in blue flames. It would probably be safe to assume that they were twins, for they looked entirely identical. Stepping lightly forwards as one they both raised their left hands to their lips and kissed the rings that resided there.

No sooner had they done that than they began to wink in and out of view, the Blink spells stored within the rings causing them both to jump back and forth between the ethereal plane and the battleground they found themselves on in the settlement of Elvenport.

Three strange looking demons stepped out next, all holding two longbows in their four arms, they paused for a second to take aim, before launching arrows towards six of the party members…

The first of the heavy arrows was only fractionally off target, intended to dive into Fade’s face it only missed by a few inches, tearing a chunk from her left ear before it clattered into the stone wall and dropped to the floor.

Avelaer, encased in the stone-skin spell was fortunate enough to see the arrow sent in his direction scrape across the side of his silver armour before deflecting away. Caine’s own magical nature spared him the worst of the damage, the arrow only barely penetrating his hide, and the magical aura that Greg carried with him proved to be sufficient to turn the projectile away.

Neither Anaara nor Karosin though were so lucky, both struck by the black missiles, though neither taking much more than a flesh wound from either.

Finally three more Fey’ri, each wearing blackened armour, stepped around through the doorway one of whom was recognisable as the being that had caused the earlier Earthquake….
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Darkwind
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ooc: Greg casts Consecrated Chain Lightning at the cleric who earlier cast Earthquake and everyone around him.

All this brute muscle--what exactly did he think he could achieve with it? Well, let's clear away some of the lesser ones, perhaps. The great thing about this spell, he thought as he fished out the rod and skin he'd used repeatedly against the undead dragon, is that it scales well--the more enemies, the more targets.

He let loose with the lightning bolt, charged with holy energy and targeting the dangerous spellcaster Vaerilmor was with when they first met, then reached for the next spell component as the holy electricity bounced around among their enemies. That'll do for crowd control, though it occurred to him that it might be for naught if any divine spellcasters get a mass cure spell off. He resolved to watch for that, and take them out if they do. And where the hell was Vaerilmor? The bastard was letting them exhaust themselves with this rabble before appearing to take care of them himself.

With a moment's thought, he changed his weapon into a bow, then let loose after taking aim at the spellcaster who put them into such danger with the Earthquake the last time. Once, twice, and again, until five arrows sped through the air, fairly glowing with holy energy.

"Clear away some of these outsiders! They'll only distract us while they shower us with spell and arrow from behind them."
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tarlyn
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Tarlyn is about to start casting when he sees the 3 fey'ri emerge last. Seeing as the 3 fey'ri are talen care of pretty much, he concentrates his flame strike spell behind him on the 3 creatures there.
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Mistress Elysia
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For a moment, the familar stench of the abyssal creatures felt like a weird homecoming for Fade, the realisation making the fey'ri rogue feel even more badly disposed towards her foes. Upon hearing Vaerilmor, she glanced warily round herself, trying to pinpoint where her accursed kin was hiding, but to no avail. That moment's inattention almost cost her dearly and a couple of black-shafted arrows streaked towards her, missing her by mere millimetres, the one that pierced her ear making her hiss in pain and fury. Without looking back to any of her companions, a look of fierce concentration and extreme hatred upon her face, the rogue skipped off to the side towards the wall nearest her, both blades leading, and concentrated for a moment, turning herself invisible. Okay, it wasn't ideal... she would reappear as soon as she struck, and it was a huge gamble considering there was quite a high chance that the invisibility wouldn't work against the foes she faced, but she had every single intention of making that strike count.

Wincing a little as Tarlyn cast his Forbiddance spell, Fade made her way as quietly as she could until she was behind one of the massive glabrezu, whereupon she unleashed a flurry of sword slashes with Tholdagnir the Demon Bane leading, hoping that the element of surprise and the heavily enchanted sword would do their worst upon the monstrous Outsider.
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Castamir
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Skafloc said nothing when Fade made her request about Vaerilmor, he would be lying if he said he would pass up an opportunity to slay a foe in favour of another doing it. Not because he was greedy, but rather because in the heat of battle, when the red mist was down, Skafloc's conscious options were rather limited.

When the Fey'ri and their outsider allies appeared though, he did make a conscious choice. He decided that it was time to indulge himself and lose himself in the one thing he could always count on, his burning and seemingly endless rage. Rage at the world, rage at the temerity of the creatures approaching, rage at the gods themselves. Skafloc had a lot of rage, more than enough to go round. He especially liked to share it with his enemies.

With the strategic complexity of a housebrick through a window, Skafloc moved into the path of the Marilith at the head of the formation, and with a scream that didn't sound like it had any right emanating from a human throat, launched himself at the multi-limbed creature with little obvious consideration for the inherant dangers of the endeavour.
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Pamela
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Llana had nodded as consensus turned away from luring the enemy downstairs, and began to cast her own long-term protections along with the others. She was still holding off on some of the others until she knew for certain that this was going to be the last floor involved. She stared at the obsidian door, that seemed so out of place in this soft pink environment. Omen or decoy, she mused to herself. She ignored the conversations around her as unnecessary distraction, wanting only to move on to the next floor and to see whether it would be another round of puzzles or the actual, hopefully final, confrontation. Instead, she immersed herself in prayer, waiting for the others to settle into place.

She followed the others into the hallway, her eyes set on the door at the end, and the voices that could be heard beyond it. The guttural sound told her that it was probably Abyssal, but she knew nothing else of the tongue. So this is it, she thought, with the familiar mix of dread and relief at the end of anticipation. She considered flying up, but realised that it would be a waste of energy in the relatively low room. At least room to spread around a little if required, but not much… She gave one last glance at her environment, noting how crude this room seemed in comparison to all the rest.

She turned back at the sound of Vaerilmor’s voice; she’d only heard it once before but had not forgotten it so quickly under the circumstances. She ignored the taunts, going through her arsenal of spells one more time, waiting for the eventual attack that came soon enough. She looked up at the demonic band that emerged, her attention caught by the malevolent glance of the Marilith that had sought her out. You first indeed; sorry my friend, she thought to Skafloc as he fiercely pounced upon this nasty foe. And you, as she turned her attention to the glabrezu that so far was not engaged in combat. Raising her holy symbol, she intoned, “Return to hell in Sune’s name!”
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eocine
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Kellindel, being a peaceable kind of fellow, and rather more of a lover than a fighter, wasn’t normally one confronted with the abyssal hordes screaming for his blood. Oh sure he’d had husbands, fathers and concerned others baying for his evisceration in the past, but none of those people had been possessed of four arms or horns that could probably be used to demolish buildings…

On the other hand some of them had probably had cloven feet; it’s just that he never hung around to pay that much attention.

The old saying was that when the going got tough, the tough got going? Well in Kell’s case invariably when the going got tough, he got the hell out of there. After all there were plenty of fish in the sea, and some of them actually qualified as attractive.

Though they were sea-elves rather than actual fish…

Anyway…

He tracked the path of Avelaer’s arrows as they flashed across the battlefield towards one of the Fey’ri, watching closely as they started to strike home, and figured that it would probably be best to focus on taking one of the spell casting members of the group that opposed them…

Pulling back the string of his longbow to his ear he took a breath, held it for a second before releasing half his breath and firing. As all truly talented archers do he didn’t wait to see if the shot had stuck home, instead whipping another arrow from the quiver at his hip and loosing that, and then another.

In virtually no time at all there were four arrows in flight towards the Fey’ri spell caster, each of them glowing with holy energy, seemingly eager to seek out the demonically infused flesh of the native outsider.
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eocine
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Caine’s lips were peeled back to expose his razor sharp fangs, and the muscles beneath his thick pelt surged with adrenalised anticipation as the demonic horde flooded out of the room at the far end of the corridor. His eyes seemed to glaze slightly, and lose their focus, almost as if he were looking directly through his opponents skins, and seeing only the pumping blood and pulsing veins that were hidden beneath.

Blood that he longed to spill…

Heedless of the danger and the fact that his own claws were hardly sufficient when tacking the denizens of the Blood-war, Caine threw himself at the approaching Glabrezu, leaping up towards its face and wrapping one of his powerful arms around the back of its neck, before slashing and biting at the giant Demon’s eyes.
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eocine
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Anaara, unlike several other members of the group, wasn’t unused to the sight of creatures summoned from the Abyss… No her problem with the whole arrangement was that she was used to having the beasts on her side and following her orders, rather than being forced to battle them herself.

Something that she would never admit to, not even to herself, was that she found the spectacle slightly daunting…

Nevertheless, it wasn’t something that she couldn’t push to one side with ease, and so she focused her gaze on one of the Fey’ri at the far end of the room. Demons were magically resistant in several cases, and their bodies, hewn in the pit of the infinite layers of the Abyss had a hardiness that very few creatures from the prime material plane could match. On the other hand their Fey’ri allies, demon blooded as they were, still possessed the blood of the surface Elves, weak and fragile.

And ever susceptible to destruction…

She pulled the symbol of Lolth from her neck and brandished it towards one of the Fey’ri, who was holding a long spear low by his side. The eyes on the symbol burned with a sickly green light as she completed the holy verses, and suddenly a beam of vibrating energy seared towards the Fey’ri.
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eocine
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Celestially empowered lightning rippled through the body of the spell-caster, but he had managed to fling himself off the floor as the crackling ball of energy had come towards him, avoiding the worst of the damage and managing to avoid grounding himself. The lighting split once it had struck him, and sprang forth to also hit the other two Fey’ri that were both stood close by. Neither of those two managed to avoid the heavenly energy in the same way, and so they bore the brunt of the damage, albeit lessened by dint of the fact that it had earlier passed through another.

The final targets that the deathless sorcerer’s spell reached out to were the variety of demon’s that still moved to engage the party. These abyssal beasts had a natural immunity to lightning, but the holy energy that ran through Greg’s evocation still burned away at their tanar’ri flesh.

Not that it caused them to pause in any way in their approach towards the party…

Avelaer’s first arrow dove through the Fey’ri’s upper thigh, causing him to hiss with pain, and drop to one knee as his leg gave out beneath him. The second of the blessed arrows slammed heavily into his breastplate but didn’t penetrate, instead shattering on impact. The third arrow though plunged into his shoulder, fortunately for the demonic Elf though it was more a flesh wound than anything, and didn’t prevent him from prudently raising his shield, onto which the blade-singer’s final two arrows impacted.

Bracing himself against the pain the Fey’ri reached down and yanked the missile free of the flesh of his thigh, the barbed arrow head tearing agonizingly through skin and muscle alike. Taking his weight on his other leg though he gazed at Avelaer through rage-filled eyes, and began a spell casting.

For a moment, as the spell approached completion, the Fey’ri’s eyes began to glow with a spiralling kaleidoscope of colours, until he thrust his left hand forwards and a beam of vibrant purple light shot towards the blade-singer. Fortunately for Avelaer the madness inducing wave of magical energy was fractionally high, and the spell expended itself against the quartz walls.

The curse to accompany this miss was still framed on the Fey’ri’s lips when Kellindel’s first arrow drove high into his ribcage, taking him totally unawares and staggering him backwards a single step, whereupon his already injured leg gave way dropping him to his knees once more. The next shot from the arcane archer would have been a perfect belly shot, but with the spellcaster’s stumble it instead became the perfect shot to the throat, and the target expectorated blood into the air before collapsing fully, clearly dying.

Whilst this was happening Tarlyn’s attempt to cast Forbiddance in the area had caused some amusement amongst the demonic hordes, and one of the twenty foot tall Ghours looked at the far smaller elf with a combination of incredulity and loathing. “Fool mortal, we’re not to be so easily contained… Unlike you.”

With that the huge demon concentrated for a moment, and a huge gust of wind began to encircle Tarlyn, dragging with it debris and dust as it swirled faster and faster, and the theurge could feel it seem to tug at his soul, trying to drag him, mind and body, into the extra-dimensional dungeon created by a maze spell.

One of the great dog-headed Glabrezu demon’s also chuckled at Tarlyn’s revelation, and had been about to comment himself when the lupine form of Caine flung himself bodily towards him. The Glabrezu raised all four arms up to fend off the lycanthropic missile, but missed with the two massively powerful pincers, and could only gain a partial grip with its remaining two arms. Certainly not sufficient to actually dislodge the werewolf, who was hacking at his eyes and biting at his throat, albeit with little success.

It was this distraction, and not the Invisibility spell that was negated by the Glabrezu’s ability to see through dimensions, that allowed Fade to blindside the tanar’ri, scoring vicious cuts with both Tholdagnir and Lawbreaker.

The beast roared in pain and fury, stepping away from the punishing blades and spinning around as best he could, bearing the weight of a still clawing Caine easily… “You will whore for me in the abyss you traitorous bitch!” It screamed at her, blood and drool splattering Caine with every syllable.

It has been said that words cannot hurt, a foolish sentiment, utterly disproved by the next vocalization made by the Glabrezu. A word of such power and force that it could literally stun an opponent into remaining still. Ancient magic that paralyzed the body, but left the mind alert to reel in terror at being unable to move.

It was fortunate indeed for the Fey’ri rogue that none of the Arrow Demons could get a clean shot from where they were, the carnage of battle before them cutting off any chance of a decent shot.

Still, they didn’t lack for targets…They just had to get into a better position to snipe at them.

As one they vanished, stepping through dimensional doorways and reappearing at the other end of the corridor, bows drawn and ready to fire towards the backs of the spell-casters once the momentary disorientation of the spell had passed...
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eocine
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One of the now threatened spell casters was Anaara, and her spell of destruction sliced across the battle field, striking the Eldritch Knight Fey’ri square in the chest. Almost instantly his entire body started to vibrate, as the magical energies that she had commandeered from Lolth attempted to literally break him apart on a molecular level and reduce him to nothing more than a pile of dust.

It was literally the work of a lifetime for the Fey’ri to focus and pull his body back under his one control, resisting the magics and holding himself intact. At least to a degree, for the internal damage was significant, and rents had appeared in his skin where patches of his skin had literally broken down, falling as dust to the floor.

He looked up at his Drow assailant and shook his head…

His hands moved quickly, and up from the floor a wall of air exploded upwards as the quickened spell went of, protecting the remaining spell casters from any more arrow attacks. The Fey’ri then dug into his pouch and pulled free a thick glass bottle, that he greedily drank from, the magical liquid healing his wounds in short order.

Fidis, one of the twin Fey’ri fighters had gone right, his brother left, and this path had virtually taken him directly into the path of the now stunned Fade… A smile that could only be described as reptilian crossed his face as he approached her from behind.

He gave a small chuckle, as he drew back the blade and slashed it towards her heart…

“She’s mine!” bellowed the Glabrezu though his Caine shaped mask, “touch her and you will take her place Demonling!”.

This was a threat that was more than sufficient to abort the thrust, and the Fey’ri scowled at being denied the kill, but he wasn’t foolish enough to object, and there were other kills out there. In addition there was also a strange desire to have her experience that horrific event, and so Fidis turned away in search of another target.

As he did so the doorway behind the Fey’ri spellcasters flickered with an eerie black and red light for a moment, before the colours faded to invisibility. The spellcasters and those knowledgeable about magic were easily enough able to identify this effect as being the creation of a wall of purest evil being erected.

In the heat of the combat, and ignorant of most such things, the barbarian Skafloc raged towards the great Marilith Demon, one of the most powerful of its kind and radiating an aura of evil that seemed to warp the very air around it. As he approached the demoness reared back on its great serpentine tail and brought its own silvered blades forwards to attack.

Skafloc’s blows were more powerful than those of the outsider, but he could wield only one weapon to her six, and so for him to parry seemed an impossibility. Yet somehow, amongst the whirling blades he managed to repel a number of her attacks, but a yet greater number made it through, and he was flayed open by the creature again and again, as his own axe left deep wounds in her that ran with a foul, abyssal ichor that smouldered as it dripped to the floor.

Though it was unlikely that any would every say such to Skafloc, it was perhaps fortunate that, of all the beasts Llana could have chosen to target with her banishment spell, that she chose the Marilith… Distracted as the creature was by Skafloc she didn’t steel herself to resist the compulsion to return to her home plane until it was far too late, and she simply ceased to be there.

The Glabrezu on the other hand fared better, for it had been focusing itself on the Sunite Priestess anyway, and so as soon as it felt the familiar tug it had summoned all of its considerable will power in a bid to remain linked to the prime material plane. It’s success brought a rare smile to the Demon’s maw.

A smile that only grew wider as it spotted the comparatively unguarded spellcasters and used one of its many abilities to teleport to the side of the Deathless sorcerer Greg, planning on using it’s awesome brute strength to rend him limb from limb…

One of the other Demons who fought on the side of the Fey’ri in this battle chose this time to rampage forwards, and strike towards Avelaer with this heavy battle-axe, the blade of which sprayed acid in every direction with each swing. The blow blew through the bladesinger’s defences, but most of the force was robbed by the stoneskin enchantment that was still in effect on the moon Elf. Despite that though he could still tell that it had been a strike of astounding force, and a glob of acid had leap from the axe and sizzled against his cheek.

Wearing a smile identical to his brothers the Fey’ri fighter Khidell came forwards, his flame sheathed blade held low as he moved towards the second of the Elven bowman, whose arrows had already taken down one of his companions. Flashing in and out of sight he was hard to pick out moving from out of the crowded mass of the melee, and Kellindel didn’t truly notice him until it was far too late to prevent the strike.

The rapier pierced deeply into his side, and as the arcane archer pulled away he only exacerbated the damage by ripping the smouldering flesh.

Noticing the hilarious situation developing between Fade and the Glabrezu, Karosin considered moving onwards and elsewhere… But the blundering beast simply presented him with a target that was far too tempting… And just to think what more fun could be had mocking the Fey’ri were he to actually save her from the potentially exceedingly… Sticky… Situation she might have found herself in.

Moving with practiced stealth he drove his blades upwards into the spine of the creature, causing it yet again to lurch around wearing its Canine headdress… “Another mortal eager to share my bed?” Roared the Glabrezu. “So be”,

The demon had been about to continue when and even louder roar shook the room, and the tremble of the floor told of massive footsteps coming from the room where Vaerilmor was believed to be hiding.
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eocine
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Kellindel clamped his hand to his side, wincing as he felt a painful burning, and then a clammy warmth spread down the side of his leg as the blood spilled with worrying speed from the wound. To make matters slightly less bearable the smell of cooking meat rose up and into his nostrils, and this more than anything else was what caused him to panic slightly.

He hated being burned, with a passion that went far beyond even his normal dislike of actually physical pain. If he’d been offered the choice between and minor burn and a bad cut he’d happily have handed them the knife himself.

In a melee he was, he judged from the lithe skill and easy grace with which the fey’ri carried both himself and his weapon, almost certainly going to end up as a flambéed pin-cushion before long had passed, blade-play not being his forte. As such he would simply have to get the hell out of it before he ended up being filleted.

Taking a step away from the blade, and holding his longbow forwards in an attempt to buy himself both distance and time, Kellindel reached into his bardic repertoire and attempted to cast a spell to render himself invisible.
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Darkwind
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ooc: is that a wall between us and the two fey'ri spellcasters? Greg tries to teleport through it and emerge behind them. He casts Glasstrike at the top (on the map) fey'ri spellcaster. Avelaer attacks (full attack) the Ghour next to him and uses Song of Celerity to cast Improved Invisibility as a free action.

Another one bites the dust... As the arrow fiends teleported behind them, he favored them with a humorless smile and stepped through a dimensional doorway of his own. He might have stayed and let them have another taste of holy lightning, but being a spellcaster himself he was of opinion that the remaining 'casters were a considerably greater threat than mere snipers or fighters. Putting the crystal rod away for now, he reached for a different focus-- a piece of glass from a broken mirror. Muttering the incantation, he channeled the power of the Weave into a Glass Strike, aiming to turn the fey'ri on the right into a statue of himself.

Even as he reeled from the demon's attack, Avelaer ordered his weapon to become a rapier once again. The fiend's strength was apparent and not to be underestimated, so as he struck at it Avelaer used a technique unique to bladesingers to render himself invisible. Perhaps such tricks were useless against the fiend, but perhaps it would give him the advantage he needed. Regardless, his holy blade struck at the Ghour again and again.
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eocine
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Anaara whirled, panic flaring momentarily in her eyes as she noticed the teleportation of the arrow Demon’s behind them. She killed that reaction though with customary speed as she took in the field and pondered exactly what to do next….

There was a lot to be said for aiding the brutal human, bolstering him with magic and letting him carve a swathe through the enemy. Then there was the possibility of aiding the deathless sorcerer against the Fey’ri on the far side of the room. Finally she could perhaps bring one of Lolth’s children into battle against the demons.

All of which would have been comparatively unselfish…

And as such were hardly likely to be the eventual winners when the final lottery of what course of action to take was finally drawn. After all any of those choices left her open to repeated perforation from the Arrow Demons behind her.

Which was not something that she was prepared to tolerate.

“Drop to your knees!” It wasn’t a request, it was a command to the Arrow Demons, and those other enemies gathered about them, and one magically empowered by the Spider-Queen.

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Castamir
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Skafloc realised that the sudden disappearance of the Marilith was a good thing for the group. Just about.

It's disappearance was still met with a frustrated scowl as the blood flecked barbarian flicked his axe with annoyance, ignoring the pain of his fresh wounds, nudging the boundaries of his consiousness.

He looked around briefly, and spotted that the two Fey'ri warriors were closest, one was close to Caine and Karosin, he figured that would be taken care of for a while.. the other was attacking Kellindel with a smug relentlessness that Skafloc wondered how quickly he could snuff out. Such arrogance coupled with the mortal danger threatening his friend.. The arrogance of one who knew his martial skills were more than a match for the elf, who in Skafloc's memory had never willingly gone toe-to-toe with anything other than a fair maiden, and even then at 90 degrees to the position he was currently in.

A combination of things that succeded only in keeping the fire burning in Skafloc's belly, and so it was with his customary snarl of impending violence that Skafloc viciously assaulted the Fey'ri, intent on battering some respect into him with his greataxe. Either that or batter him to death, Skafloc wasn't bothered which.
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eocine
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Caine, who was by now splattered in blood, spittle and gore, some of it his own, some of it the Glabrezu’s, continued his less than successful attacks against the Glabrezu, biting and clawing frantically at the far larger and stronger demon. On the bright side though, even with as little damage as he was doing to the beast, it was still more that had managed to penetrate his own hide, and so he hung on like the grimmest of deaths, biting and clawing at the eyes and throat of the demon.

Reaching across with his right hand he managed to secure a grip on the Tanar’ri’s ear, holding it tightly and yanking as hard as he could, but the beasts hide was extraordinarily tough, and the muscles that were layered across its body meant that even the weight of the lycanthrope didn’t cause its head to move from its upright position.

Which could have been a tiny bit demoralizing for most opponents, but Caine was so lost in his rage and fury that he barely even noticed.
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There was some relief when the Marilith disappeared, but this was tempered by the awareness of the dangers that were besetting so many of her allies right now. In the back of her mind, tendrils of her earlier spell informed her about the injuries that weighed heavily on both Skafloc and Kellindel, as well as Fade’s present horrifying state of paralysis. Her plan to help the fey’ri was for the moment delayed by the glabrezu’s threat to its fellows. You will not live long enough for such an abomination, but I must also make sure to see to her when you are not there to ‘protect’ her any longer…

She was only vaguely aware of the trio of archers behind her as her attention was drawn to the failure that had survived her banishment. As the massive demon teleported beside the elvish newcomer, her eyes widened as she prepared now to dismiss it. Please goddess, watch over us! Her hands cupped at her heart, then flung outwards in the glabrezu’s direction.

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eocine
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Yanking his now gore-stained blades free of the Glabrezu’s back Karosin nimbly jumped backwards as the great pincers flailed helplessly as the demon tried to pick up exactly where he was. Not an easy task at the best of times, but when your vision is being obscured by a werewolf that has managed to clamp itself to your head then it becomes a virtual impossibility.

Taking advantage of the fact that the Glabrezu could barely see where he was at any given time Karosin slid to the side of the monster, and unleashed a series of stabs and cuts upwards. In a giant or a similar monster he could just about count on the creature’s heart being in that area, and he hoped that the same would be true of the Tanar’ri.

After all their physiologies couldn’t be that different, could they?
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eocine
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The smirk on the Fey’ri swordsman’s face as Kellindel went into his spell casting was virtually obscene in its confidence and distain for his Elven opponent. “Cowardly full-blood, you never have the stomach for a fight.” He sneered, before sidestepping away from the longbow that Kellindel was brandishing, stave-like in front of himself then feinting a thrust before stepping again, and driving the burning point of his rapier towards the throat of the arcane archer.

A vicious cry of victory exploded from his lips, and he knew that he had judged the strike perfectly, and the steel would open his opponents throat to the bone…

Then suddenly he was momentarily dragged into the ethereal plane, and his immaterial strike passed harmlessly through the Elf’s throat, causing him no damage at all, and allowing him to complete his spell and seemingly vanish from the battlefield.

In the time it took for the Blink spell to pull him back to the prime material plane the cry of victory had become one of rage at being robbed of the chance to slaughter the full blood. For a brief moment he looked around for a sign that the Elf had reappeared, but soon turned around, in search of other blood to spill…

The next blood he saw though was his own, for his attempt on Kellindel’s life had not gone unnoticed by the homicidal maniac in hide armour, who had torn across the ground with a frightening speed. Barely having had time to even think about blocking the blow, it was more a reflex action than anything else that meant that Khidell managed to leap backwards at the same time as he instinctively parried.

Even this action though wasn’t enough to stop brain-biter slicing through his magically enhanced silk shirt, and leave a long and shallow slash across his tightly muscled stomach. Despite his surprise though he managed to recover his footing with preternatural quickness, and prepare to launch a counter attack of his own.

Something that Avelaer was doing himself in his battle against the far larger Ghour, the bull-horned abyssal beast. Unlike the Glabrezu’s, the Ghour had no inbuilt ability to perceive invisible beings, and so he roared in frustration when the elven blade singer vanished from view.

In the absence of anything better to do the demon whipped his acid coated great-axe in a wide arc before himself, spraying acid droplets into the air, but connecting with nothing. Frustrated the beast raised the blade high over his head, and braced his massive muscles to swing it diagonally to his left hand side…

Blood started to gush from a wound in his left hand side, and he could smell smouldering abyssal blood and burning hair. Releasing one hand from the axe he clamped his massive mitt over the wound to staunch the blood-flow. Another wound opened up, this time in his right hand side.

Bellowing now in pain as much as anger he slashed frantically back and forth in front of himself, and was promptly stabbed in the back The Ghour turned and flailed again, but another attack came in. This time though the demon was lucky, and it inadvertently deflected the blow with the hilt of its axe, a block that had been far more about luck than judgement.

His luck though got a whole lot worse with the next blow, as the moon-elf’s next strike caught him under the ribs, tearing a hole in one of his lungs and causing a pinkish froth to emerge from the Ghour’s mouth. It was a blow that would surely have felled any mortal, but the demon simply wiped away the foam with the back of his hand and seemed to prepare to swing once more.

However as badly as the Ghour was doing though it seemed that one of his Glabrezu counterparts was doing even worse, as he staggered around still wearing his lupine scarf. It had to first be said that Caine’s attacks were virtually entirely ineffective, neither his claws nor his teeth were able to easily penetrate, but he did at least serve a purpose by distracting the demon, allowing the assassin to more easily work…

And work he did, his own dagger was no more effective than Caine’s claws, striking often but doing little damage, but the blade he held in his right hand was far more powerfully ensorcelled, and it carved easily through the Glabrezu’s abyssal flesh, causing the beast to leak blood from several deep wounds. It seemed though that the creature might had survived this torrid period in reasonable health…

Until the assassin’s sword pierced his side and tore a bloody path towards his vital organs…

One of the demon’s secondary hands reached down to grasp at the wound, but the damage had been done…

In a frantic bid to escape it began to try to use one of its many magical abilities to teleport out of danger, but Karosin struck again, leaping upwards with ease and slashing out one more with his blade, this time tearing even further with the sword. The Glabrezu dropped to his knees, causing the ground to seemingly shake, before its eyes rolled backwards and it slumped to the floor, a stinking mess of blood and muscle.
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eocine
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The other Glabrezu that had been summoned to the battlefield seemed to be having a slightly better time of it, though it would of course have been hard pressed not to do so. That is not to say that it was actually making much of an impression on the battlefield, but it was at least not being decimated. Instead it was chuckling to itself, for it had managed to teleport itself amongst the mortal spell casters, weaklings all no doubt…

And so the bloodletting could commence.

One of it’s massive, scorpion-like claws was drawn back, and the demon prepared to snatch Tarlyn around the throat and pincer his head clean off his shoulders, when the Glabrezu became aware that one of the others, the Sunite priestess with the wings, was casting a spell…

The beam of magical energy hit the tanar’ri squarely in the chest, and immediately his form began to waver, and the edges of his being blurred for a moment… “You whore! I’ll come back for you! Mark my words!” The last syllable was distended, distorted, as the demon was returned forcibly to the abyss, leaving the Elven Mystic Theurge to complete his spell, and rain down holy fire on the two Fey’ri at the far end of the room.

As one they both leapt to the side, trying to avoid the raging torrent of flame that swept down from the heavens above. Whilst both had a level of natural resistance towards flame this spell consecrated the fire, and that celestial touch was what truly burned at the evil creatures. One of the two spell-casters took the full brunt of the holy magic, staggering to the side with tendrils of smoke rising up from his armour, and cinders of burning hair falling from his head. The second had managed to avoid the worst, suffering only minor burns to his arm, and so looked out over the battle field at the pure-blood who had cast the spell, promising vengeance.

The more damaged of the two Fey’ri was himself plotting his own revenge, and considering which of his considerable armoury of spells to use, when he heard muttered arcane syllables being spoken from behind himself. As one he and his companion turned to look into the eyes of Greg, who was just completing his spell.

For the merest of seconds the fey’ri caught sight of his own face in the mirror that the deathless sorcerer held, before a beam of white light lanced forth from the mirror’s surface, and slid into his chest. Almost instantly the fey’ri’s skin took on a reflective sheen, and coldness swept through his body as the spell threatened to overwhelm him, slowing his movements and thoughts.

Bracing himself against the magical onslaught the fey’ri started to over-breathe, gulping down air and forcing oxygen into his muscles, continually flexing them and straining his body into rejecting the transformation. Finally the mirroring effect faded, and the fey’ri flicked up his gaze and gave Greg a smile that was all bitterness and fury. “I am not so easily defeated”, he said, ignoring the flakes of ash that fell past his eyes, remnants of Tarlyn’s Flame-Strike.

The fey’ri went into a spell casting of his own, and in moments the demonic elf was holding a ball of frigid energy between his cradled hands. He reared back and hurled the orb towards Greg, intending on freezing the sorcerer where he stood…

However the magical aura that surrounded him protected Greg once again, subtly deflecting the beam over his shoulder and leaving him untouched.

To his side the other spell-caster again used a magically quickened spell, this time granting himself more ability with the painfully barbed spear he wielded. Whirling it towards the pale-skinned being he lanced the tip towards Greg’s face… And then stopped, mid thrust, and at that range Greg was able to see his jaw drop, and by following his eyeline he was able to see that whatever had caught the eye of the fey’ri it was either high in the air.

Or very big.

Were Greg able to breathe he might have noticed the unbelieveably strong stink of rotting meat that suddenly pervaded the immediate area… Despite that though he was able to feel hot and wet breath across his neck and head, and turn around just in time to find himself looking up in the salivating maw of a tyrannosaur, plucked from one of the infinte planes of the abyss…

The huge jaws snapped forwards, closing with a boom that seemed to cause the air to vibrate.

Fortunately for Greg though he had managed to avoid being caught in between them, dodging the bite that would surely have simply torn him in half.

Back where the other spell casters were stood Anaara’s spell went off unimpeded, and the magical compulsion washed over the arrow demons, one of the Ghours, and the Fey’ri that had just been forced into a desperate parry from Skafloc.

Drow priestesses are used to having their commands respected, and this was no different, as two of the Arrow-Demons found their knees buckling beneath them. The Ghour was no more successful in resisting the spell, and it too dropped to the floor, a look of total surprise and fury written across its face at being so summarily commanded by a mere mortal.

The fey’ri blade-master also found himself dropping to his knees, looking up now in a panic at the looming figure of Skafloc for a moment, before he spotted his fellow, the second of the swordsmen, who approached Skafloc from behind and slashed at the broad back of the barbarian, leaving a deep cut across his trapezium.

One of the Arrow Demons though had managed to resist the magical command of Anaara, and he aimed both of his bows carefully, one pointing towards the Drow cleric of Lolth, the second towards the Elven cleric of Selune. In moments a slew of arrows shot through the air, some striking home and some missing, but there was not a trace of emotion on the Demon’s face as he prepared to fire again.
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Darkwind
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Greg decided to gamble a bit. This next spell took longer to cast, which meant that he wouldn't be able to take advantage of the teleportation spell he had active to get away from the huge beast. On the other hand, once it was cast, he would become much, much more dangerous. He answered the daemonfey calmly--what's a tyrannosaurus to one who's faced down a vampiric dragon recently?--while he pulled out a small glass ring he carried for just such occasions and a bit of fur.

"Brave words. I've heard them before, from dozens of fey'ri over the last few years. They're all dead now, and soon you'll join them." He didn't waste any more time and wound the fur around the ring as he intoned the words of power. It took longer than most other spells, but the result was worth it--a ring of crackling electricity around him and twin balls of lightning in his hands. He struck a pose, and let both of them loose at the same target, the fey'ri who'd resisted his Glasstrike.

It seems he was right to cast that spell, as the demon could not perceive him anymore. Its clumsy attempts to him him anyway were easily avoided, and almost all of his attacks landed. He could see the creature weakening as he continued his assault. One thing worried him--the spellcasters. They might dispel his invisbility, or who knows what other spell they might unleash. Normally, he would have gone for the spellcasters first, but their relative lack of frontline support required him to deal with the summoned muscle first.
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Castamir
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Skafloc swore as he felt the blade slice through his fur cloak, armour and ultimately his flesh. It was a cloak that had been with him all his adult life, and once again it would need repairing.

He turned, not much but just enough to put his back to the wall, and scowled briefly at his new opponent and spoke even as he continued to swing his greataxe at his existing opponent with the inhuman vigour his rage had gifted him.

"Another one? Heh, join the queue fool."
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tarlyn
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Eyeing the 3 arrow demons, Tarlyn smiles confidently to himself. Removing a piece of Octopus tentacle from his pouch he begins casting his spell, targetting the 3 Arrow Demons. A field of rubbery black tentacles, each 10 feet long spring forth from the floor,grappling the 3 Arrow Demons.
(Tarlyn casts Black Tentacles on the 3 Demons).

I hope that will help us some. Now that monster behind our friend Greg is magnificent. I've only heard of such beasts and read little about them. I do hope he fares well against it. And where is Vaerilmor hiding? I bet he is waiting like a coward or has already run away like the filthy fey'ri he is.
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As the Glabrezu disappeared with his characteristic curses, Llana gave it a cool smile. Your friend downstairs will be glad to hear that, she thought, recalling her own personal vendetta with the dracopire.

Another triage and examination of their foes, who were beginning to fall and be replaced. Her attention returned to Fade. The Sunite clapped her hands once, chanting for the paralysis to be dispelled on the rogue.
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eocine
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Caine rode the motion of the collapsing behemoth as the Glabrezu slumped to the floor, managing to prevent himself from being underneath it when it hit the floor. The demon’s face turned towards the werewolf as his last breath was spent, and Caine’s face curled into a disgusted snarl at the foul and bloody reek of the demon.

He didn’t pause though before leaping away, his red eyes frantically scanning the battlefield for something, anything to fling himself at, and to feel his claws rending, and his fangs ripping.

The first target that he spotted was one of the two fey’ri swordsmen, and he hurled himself across the floor, slashing his claws towards the spine of the demon-spawned combatant.
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Smirking at the success of her spell against the Arrow Demons Anaara turned away from them, noting the black rubbery tentacles that had sprung up from the floor as she did so. Her gaze passed over the fey’ri that Skafloc was battling, and beyond to the demonling who had attack him from behind.

Not of course that she had any problem with that kind of tactic, after all the Drow had honed that particular skill to perfection, and there was nothing to be ashamed of in taking out your enemies with minimal spilling of your own blood. However he was still an enemy, and it seemed that nobody else was about to intervene on the barbarian’s behalf…

Slender ebony fingers reached up to grasp her holy symbol, and she whispered a prayer to Lolth, asking that the Spider-Queen imbue her form with a living darkness, that would allow her to slay the fey’ri…

A black and glaucous mist seemed to ooze out of the spider-shaped holy symbol, and envelop her hand, sheathing it in a magical darkness, and clinging to her like a gauntlet fashioned of shadow.

Thrusting her hand towards the warrior she watched as the black energy lanced towards him, carrying with it all her malice…
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Kellindel skittered out of range as fast as he could, fully aware how close he had come to having the razor-point of the fey’ri’s rapier pierce through his throat, and feeling his mortality with an acuteness that was remarkable. A familiar war-cry shook him from his immediate fit of bowel-loosening terror at nearly being filleted, and he allowed himself a momentary grin as he watched Skafloc roar forwards, and saw the expression on his would-be murderers face flick from overt confidence to first concern and then terror as he seemed to weigh up the sheer brutal power of the barbarian, and find himself wanting in the face of it.

Content enough that the fey’ri would soon resemble nothing more than a puddle of gore, Kellindel turned away from that sight, albeit with some regret, and instead turned towards the Arrow Demons...

He slid another arrow free of his quiver, and drew a bead on the nearest of them, pausing for a second to regulate his breathing, before letting fly.

One of the oldest secrets in Elven combat lore was the process by which the arcane archers imbued their arrows with the magic that made them astonishingly accurate, and caused the arrows to dig a little deeper into their targets. It was this secret that Kellindel channelled through his fingertips, and the arrow had seemed to hum for a moment before it took off…

Followed soon after by another pair of arrows...
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eocine
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The assassin regarded the heaping corpse of the Glabrezu with an inherent distaste that had characterised most of his dealings with the creatures that they had battled of late. He looked down at the gore spattered blades he held, and his nose wrinkled at the foul odour that rose from the blood. Filthy beasts, their insides are every bit as vile as their outsides…

Seemingly ignoring the ongoing combat that swarmed around him Karosin found a patch of the thick hair that adorned the monster and swept the blades through them, cleaning them as best he could, and never once taking his eyes off the battle.

Once he was at least moderately satisfied with the state of his weapons he turned to the doorway, seeing that Greg was hugely outnumbered by his enemies he swept towards the closest of the fey’ri spellcasters, taking advantage of the fact that the Deathless sorcerer seemed to be occupying the fey’ri’s full attention…

A mistake that you’ll pay for with your life…

Promised Karosin silently of the fey’ri, as he nigh floated towards the demonic Elf’s unprotected spine.

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eocine
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As the magical tentacles erupted upwards from the floor at Tarlyn’s request the two Arrow Demon’s who had been compelled by Anaara’s spell to drop to their knees were momentarily greeted by the sight of rubbery, black celapod limbs seeming to dive towards their necks, before the sucker-lined limbed clamped over their eyes, rendering them both effectively blind. Fortunately for the Arrow Demon who had resisted the spell he was easily able to shrug the tentacle grips away and then use his ability to slip through the dimensions to reappear several feet away, bows aimed and ready to fire again.

The other pair though were unable to gain sufficient leverage to pull themselves free, and indeed had been virtually pulled into the floor by the black tentacles that continued to pull at them. Though in some way this could also be considered a continuation of the effects of the Greater Command issued by the Drow Priestess, for her spell would no more grant them freedom than would Tarlyn’s…

One of the creatures originally affected by the Command spell though did manage to shake off its insidious effect… The huge figure of the Ghour straightened up again to its full gigantic height, and looked around the battlefield for a suitable target on which to slake its ever increasing rage.

A target who would almost certainly have been suitable was the Blade-Singer Avelaer, but he remained hidden by his Greater Invisibility spell, and it was this spell that was enabling him to so utterly decimate the Ghour that he was currently combating…. Able to easily step around the continued flailing of the bovine demon the sword-bow stuck again and again, and finally the holy weapon burned a path directly through the abyssal beast’s chest and into his heart…

The massively powerful beating of the Ghour’s heart momentarily threatened to wrench the sword out of Avelaer’s hand, before it gave one final massive shudder, and then stopped. There was a loud thud as the demon dropped to its knees, eyes rolled back into its skull, and then slumped backwards to the floor, pulling the blade free of its chest as it did so.

Further back from where Avelaer battled the Ghour, Greg was in his own pitched battle, outnumbered but unbowed by the odds… And perhaps there was no wonder he was so confident, when one considered the ring of flashing electricity that spiralled around his body.

More than that though was the fact that he could direct that energy outwards…

Two bolts lanced out of the circle, both of which struck Greg’s target, who staggered backwards, blood oozing out from between the Fey’ri’s clenched teeth.

Blood mawed, the Fey’ri spell caster opened his mouth to frame the words for a spell in retaliation to Greg’s, and as the Deathless being watched he saw the Battle Mage’s fingers form the somantic component of a Prismatic Spray... As Greg braced himself against any of the myriad effects that could occur when dealing with this spell there was a sudden wet crunching noise that came from the mouth of the Fey’ri.

A quiet grunt came from behind the Battle Mage, and from his mouth emerged the point of a sword, pushing forwards for a few moment like a metallic tongue of sorts…

Yanking backwards suddenly Karosin tugged the blade free, allowing the Fey’ri to fall to the floor in a sudden heap.

“I’d move if I were you…” he casually observed to Greg as he watched the tyrannosaur behind the sorcerer rear back and prepare to bite… The white skinned spell-caster had needed no warning though, and easily ducked away from the bite.

It was at this moment, as he twisted away from the dinosaur’s bite, that Greg noticed a Babau demon stepping past the massive summoned tyrannosaur, a cruel smile on its face, seemingly secure in the protection that the fact it was magically invisible gave it… Obviously with his True Sight spell in effect he was aware of it and could protect himself against the vicious Demon.

But the rest of the party would be far more vulnerable…

As he watched the invisible monster seemed to smile slightly, before it teleported to the other side of the room, reappearing behind the Sunite Cleric.

Moments before that Llana had dispelled the effects of the Glabrezu’s word of power on Fade, leaving the Fey’ri rebel with a chance to try to slake the rage that must have been building during her imprisonment within her own body.

In the unlikely event that any display of rage would have been needed to inspire her she need only have looked across the battlefield towards the blood smeared barbarian Skafloc, and the bestial form of Caine, both of who were engaged in melee combat with two of the Fey’ri swordsmen…

The confidence had all drained away from the face of the one stood before the face of Skafloc’s rage, and he was being forced to use all of his speed to avoid the titanic blows of the barbarian.

But even that was not enough…

Brain-biter’s razor edge laid his stomach open, and the back swing took away his sword… By the simple expedient of removing the hand that held it. The Fey’ri watched, detached as his hand clattered into the wall, and insintively he grasped his wrist, and stepped back away from the murderous brute.

Blood pooling at his feet the Fey’ri tried to run, but he’d barely managed two steps before Skafloc cut him down from behind, and he fell to the floor dead.

Caine had himself been faring well against his opponent, though his strikes were far less damaging than those that Skafloc could administer what he lacked there he made up for in the ability to resist most of the damage from the rapier that his opponent wielded… Tragically though for the werewolf Anaara’s spell robbed him of a potentially rewarding fight, as the shadowy energy seemed to plunge into the body of the duellist, and pull the light from his eyes and the breath from his lungs, killing him in a second.

The last of the spell-casters by where Greg and now Karosin were situated looked around the room, noticing how rapidly out numbered he was becoming, and made up his mind in an instant… He decided that he wasn’t going to be sticking around, casting a Teleport and disappearing in an instant...

As the party themselves looked around all that could be seen remaining were the three Arrow Demons, one of whom Kellindel was pumping arrows into, a Ghour, who was making his way towards Anaara, the tyrannosaur behind Greg, and finally those who could see the invisible were able to see the Babau who had just appeared behind Llana.
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Darkwind
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ooc: Greg steps toward the fiendish animals to affect them with his ring of lightning and hits the dinosaur with the two bolts as well. He casts Message to Llana and every other ally in the area. Also, as a free action he transfers all +4 of his defending dagger's enhancement bonus to his AC. Avelaer begins to move toward the other Ghour, changes course and moves up to Llana, then casts Protection from Evil on her.

Greg hated demons ever since he learned--the hard way--that they were naturally immune to some of his most favorite attacks which all just happen to involve electricity. With no time to debate the wisdom of teleporting into melee with a ring of elecricity around him, he opted to remain. Instead, he took out a length of copper wire and pointed it at Llana while he cast the spell. It was among the simplest there were, but hopefully the message would provide her some warning. For good measure, he also waved the wire around a bit to make sure everybody got the message.

"Llana, you're about to be backstabbed by an invisible demon." Not caring about being overheard--just heard over the battle's noise--he spoke in normal volume instead of whispering. Also, now Karosin ought to understand the situation.

He put the focus away and stepped closer to the remaining enemies to bring them into reach of his dangerous ring of lightning and also unleashed, almost absent-mindedly, the two charges that had built up again in his hands, aiming at the huge dinosaur.

"Thanks for the help Karosin. I can take these two while you see to Llana."

Invisibility made it almost too easy. As the fiend collapsed under his attacks, he whispered "Another one bites the dust..." and shifted his attention to the next target--the closest being the massive demon which has just risen to its full height. From recent experience, Avelaer assumed that this one would not be able to detect him either and he began to make his way to it.

He was quite a bit surprised when the sorcerer's message reached him--until he remembered that the man's sight was enhanced. Of course, he wasn't so lucky so a startled look back revealed no demons behind Llana, but he nonetheless moved back toward her. When he reached her, he had a flask in his hand and immediately began to pour out its contents--powdered silver--in a tight circle around her as he muttered the incantation of a simple Protection from Evil. That ought to give the demon some pause.
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Tarlyn yells out to Llana "Dive!" ............... With that he begins praying and firmly clasping his symbol, he concentrates on the area the Babau is and a Blade Barrier appears in it's midst!
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Pamela
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Llana had heard the shout from Tarlyn but hadn’t realised that it was directed her way until Greg’s message reached her. By this point a wall of blades had sprung up behind her back. Her wings were splashed with blood as she heard an unfamiliar cry behind her.

“Thank you,” she called out to her allies, smiling as she heard Avelaer’s murmured spell of protection, and saw the circle of falling silver glimmer and disappear. Skafloc’s injuries were serious but he was still in no immediate danger from the remaining allies. One quick look around, and she saw that the diabolical archers, her own personal obstacles, were presently being dealt with. She debated attacking but opted for caution. Her thumb rubbed against the silver band that sported a luminescent opal, and she winked out of sight, invisible to all those who didn’t have the magical ability. Deal with injuries and build up our protections further before we face Vaerilmor’s next wave of assault….

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eocine
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Caine spun his head towards Anaara as the Drow’s spell robbed him of his opponent, the fury that blazed in his eyes spoke of a rage that she had ‘stolen’ his kill… It was only with some difficulty that he managed to tear his gaze away from her, and stop himself from tearing across the battlefield and launch himself towards her throat and feel the hot blood spring from her ebon skin down his throat…

Instead though he forced his burning vision elsewhere, swearing vengeance for the kill-stealing Drow as he did so…

The huge figure of the Ghour loomed into his sight, and the horns that crowned its massive skull tripped some ancient predatory script in the howling fury of his lupine mind… Seemingly heedless of the fact that his particular quasi-bovine specimen was Abyss-spawned and clutching a monstrous great-axe that dripped acid onto the floor, Caine flung himself towards it, screaming a challenge as he did so.

As he approached the Demon, who had heard his howl and turned his body more fully into Caine’s path, the werewolf launched himself into the air, jaws snapping and claws fully outstretched.
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eocine
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Kellindel had of course winked back into sight when he had sent a barrage of arrows streaking across the room towards one of the Arrow Demons. This of course opened up a slight conundrum for him in terms of what to do next, obviously under normal circumstances it might have proven to be sensible to cast some kind of protective spell, or an illusion of some kind…

However given that the battle seemed to be going their way anyway such an action would probably not be overly sensible… Furthermore there was an old saying that faint heart never won fair maiden.

Of course it was flat nonsense, but it perhaps translated better into the physical battlefield than the bedroom one…

With their four arms and two bows each even a bowman as skilled as the Arcane-Archer felt a tiny bit over-matched. Not in terms of accuracy per se but they could pump out more arrows than he could, and the Elf vaguely remembered hearing once from a Tiefling who had served in the Blood Wars about seeing a troop of Arrow Demon’s decimate an entire platoon of Devils with a constant hail of arrows, not bothering to aim but slaying through the sheer number of missiles they were able to pump out…

As such getting into an archery contest in this open space seemed vaguely akin to suicide, fortunately his coat buttoned up tight over skills other than just archery, and it was into his bardic repertoire that he dipped next.

With a slight smile on his face Kellindel dug into a small pouch at his waist and dug out a set of three walnut shells.

“Madness grips, it rips and strips and through your mental landscape trips!”

Sung out the Elf in a staccato fashion, before crunching the shells together and then blowing the dusty fragments in the direction of the two Arrow Demons that had Dimension Doored away from Tarlyn’s tentacular enchantment.

Above the heads of the two Demon’s a pair of huge walnuts seemed to pop into existence before crashing down onto the heads of the Tanar’ri. Both of their knees buckled with the magical ‘impact’ of the spell, which in truth did no actual physical damage… The spell was far more insidious than that…
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eocine
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Whilst the battle certainly seemed to be going well, as was evidenced by the drastic drop off in numbers in the opponents, and the fact that, disparate party or not, the group she had aligned herself with seemed to be more that capable combatants, Anaara decided that this was not the time for pointless actors of bravery. Instead this seemed to be the time to make sure that the final mopping up didn’t cost her anything…

After all it would be scarcely befitting of her to be slain here in the guttering embers of the battle…

Lloth had blessed her with the ability to access several spells that were not normally part of the clerical remit, and it was into these gifts that she now looked, pulling a single gum-encased eyelash out of a small pouch and clutching it tightly between two perfectly manicured fingers.

A few magical words later, and she disappeared from sight, the eyelash seemingly evaporating as she did so.
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eocine
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Seeing to Llana was made rather more difficult by the fact that, once she had activated the magics of her ring of invisibility, he couldn’t actually SEE her, or if it came to that the Demon that had been advancing on her.

Fortunately what he could see though were a series of magically created blades appearing out of nothing, and then seconds later an explosion of blood from inside the magical maelstrom, followed by a scream that could only truly be described as Abyssal. The immediate crisis though was clearly averted, and so it became a choice of what to do next…

The sorcerer seemed more than capable of handling a couple of animals, so he could easily enough leave them alone, and most of the other potential targets were too far away for him to reach with any great alacrity. To his great annoyance this left him with only one realistic alternative, the Ghour.

It was with an exceedingly rare rueful look that Karosin momentarily gazed down at the two weapons he held, neither of which was likely to be able to do too much damage to the magically toughened hide of the Demon.

Improvisation then…

Although on some deep level it pained him to do it he searched out Fade’s eyes across the battlefield, and flicked his head towards the demon, before mouthing ‘You make your move after mine’, at her and setting off towards the gigantic bovine beast, breaking into a sprint, his speed enhanced by the earlier haste spell.

He skidded to a halt behind the towering demon and then spoke… “I wonder if you’re as stupid as you are ugly? You bovine monstrosity… I find it amusing that you’re basically a corruption of Minotaurs, which are themselves only about half as smart as a normal cow… I’m assuming that you’re only about half as smart again?”

Karosin held his weapons low by his side, smiling slightly as he could see the creatures shoulder muscles start to bulge and flex, and the massive monster began to turn towards him.
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Skafloc's last strike batted the Fey'ri to the floor, lifeless and broken. He spat at it's remains with distain, and turned his attention to the battle about him.

It was with an almost feverish gaze he cast his bloodshot and wild eyes about, trying to decide through the red mist that possessed him which was the biggest threat. The huge lizard was clearly unintelligent and he knew the sorcerer was more than a match for most creatures, and if he wasn't, he was more than capable of placing himself out of harm's way. The arrow demons were being dealt with in kind by Kellindel, and didn't seem as dangerous as the ugly horned thing with the big axe..

Skafloc figured that despite her motivations Anaara deserved protection, he knew she'd been looking out for the party in the battles they had faced so far, and that made her a comrade in arms which was good enough for the battle scarred northerner.

He got to it just as Karosin's sharp tongue layed into it. He grinned as thoughts of violence - the many different ways he could attack it - filled his mind. If any had known what a steam train was, they would have had an accurate way to describe the manner Skafloc ran up to the demon, his axe behind his head as his arms swung it back, snapping it forward with the force of a small siege engine as he arrived at the scene.

If Karosin's insults weren't going to hurt it, sticks, stones and a bloody great maniac with a vorpal edged greataxe were more than willing to give it a try.
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eocine
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Posting for Mistress E:

Being magically paralysed in the middle of a battle would, and indeed should, normally be cause for fear… But in this case, and given who she fought against, Fade seemed in some way inured to the expected terror. Instead the sheer frustration of her situation caused a veritable torrent of rage to sear through her being and protect her from that fear. It was a rage that she had relied on again and again during the hard years she’d endured, and that practice, and the ability to temper fury into a needle point was all that had kept her from madness at times… Here it kept her from fear.

When the magic of the Glabrezu’s command was finally dispelled Fade virtually fell forwards, her muscles having been straining against the abyssal compulsion, even whilst her own mind was held in its sway.

Her burning eyes scanned the battlefield frantically for something, anything to hack, shred and cut, the ever present demon that inhabited her stoking the fires of her frenzy to greater and greater heights. Out of the corner of her vision she tracked the loping stride of the werewolf Caine as he sprang across the stone floor towards the bovine Ghour, and squeezed the handles of Lawbreaker and Tholdagnir so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Whilst watching the lycanthrope make his attack she spotted the human assassin stood behind the demon… It was only through a supreme act of will that she just about managed to focus on the point that he was trying to get across.

Lips peeled back and teeth bared, she watched as the assassin apparently started to converse with the huge beast, and started to run towards it, breaking into a sprint. One that very nearly saw her knocked aside by the massive figure of Skafloc, as he too charged the beast.

The fleet footed barbarian reached his target first and swung the vorpal blade of brain-biter hard at the beasts exposed back. Fade didn’t break her stride or change her course though, instead she flung herself into the air, flipping the blades over in her hands as she did so and then stabbing down as hard as she could, her legs too braced for impact against the Ghour’s back.
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eocine
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Avelaer’s spell did indeed give the stealthy demon pause for thought, for with the magical barrier protecting her he could progress no further… In addition the actions of the blade-singer had amply demonstrated to the Babau that at least one of the combatants could see exactly where he was, and that was not a situation that thee beast was happy with, for the Babau are not frontline fighters like the Glabrezu’s or the Ghour’s rather their comparative physical and magical weakness means that the have to focus on trickery and stealth, and it appeared that the Elf had robbed him of that…

Any further considerations though were put to one side when pain exploded though the abyssal body of the demon, as Tarlyn caused a veritable armada of blades to spring from the air and slash over and over again though his flesh.

The Babau virtually exploded in blood, myriad blades tearing through it and sending blood and gore flying about in every direction…

Still invisible it shrieked in pain and staggered away from the Blade Barrier, blood pouring freely from countless slashing wounds, and half blinded, despite that though it did still spot Llana vanishing from sight… Knowing that the battle was already over as far as it was concerned, the Demon called upon its ability to teleport and withdrew itself from the battlefield, leaving behind a puddle of blood and several gobbets of flesh clinging to Llana’s wings.

Towards the main entrance into the room the first of the Arrow Demon’s simply shook off the effects of the Confusion spell and glared at Kellindel through the Blade-Barrier that now separated them. The second though pressed his palms to his eyes before looking about the battlefield once more, his face a morass of conflicting expressions. Fear, fury, confusion, lust, and derangement all played a part for a brief moment, before his face finally settled on abject terror, and the Arrow Demon turned and fled as fast as he could.

The Demon Arrow who had remained unaffected by Kellindel’s spell roared an insult in Abyssal towards the retreating back of his fellow before turning back towards the battlefield, intent on revenging his companion on the mortals that continued the battle.

Originally it had been his intent to fire on the one whose spell had driven away his fellow, but shooting arrows though the morass of blades that hovered in front of the Elf seemed to be a foolish choice, risking the magical forces blocking his shots. Instead he chose to fire on two of the more unprotected members of the humans.

Mentally separating his two sets of arms he drew beads on both Tarlyn and Anaara, smiling slightly as he imagined the damage the thick shafted arrows would do to weak Elf flesh, before he released the arrows, which sliced across the battlefield and dove towards their targets.

Anaara buckled as the first of the arrows thudded into her side, cracking a rib but failing to penetrate her armour. Instantly she dropped to her knees, hissing with pain and trying to hold down a sudden cough that threatened to bring with it both pain and blood. Despite the wound though she did manage to get her shield up, and the second arrow crashed into it and fragmented, whilst the third arrow whistled over her shoulder.

Knowing that she couldn’t stay there and be made a pincushion she raised a hand and hissed out a short prayer to hide her from sight, before she vanished, the Invisibility spell doing its job.

Tarlyn too was only struck by one of the three arrows that were sent his way, but unlike Anaara he had an active Stoneskin enchantment protecting him, and thus the arrow did scarcely any damage at all, dropping to his feet with a shattered point, before the other two arrows flew fractionally high, not testing the limits of the abjuration any further.

The third and final of the Arrow Demon’s pushed himself off the floor, eye flaring as he looked around for a target. Before it fired though it decided that it would perhaps be better to separate and split up somewhat, rather than bunching as they had previouslty done, and so it opened a dimensional doorway and stepped through, reappearing moments later in the middle of the room.

Skafloc’s innumerable wounds were pouring blood onto the floor, making the stones slippery and wet, but he kept his feet as he pounded towards the Ghour, following closely behind the werewolf, who was slightly quicker on his feet…

Blood also dripped form several of Caine’s wounds, dripping onto the stone floor as he sprinted towards the hugely powerful Ghour before launching himself into the air, attempting to try and knock the gigantic bovine beast to the ground… Instead though the minotauresque demon simply batted him aside, sending him spiralling though the air towards the floor.

Before he had even landed though the Ghour had used its own magical abilities to banish the lycanthrope to another dimension, one that was simply one huge extra-dimensional maze.

Grinning at his imprisonment of the werewolf the beast was mildly discomforted by the fact that one of the humans was stood behind him, and was apparently talking about something… Turing its massive horned head the Ghour started to listen more closely to what the human was saying, and roared in anger at the insult, “Die you pitiful mortal scu-“…

The final syllable was cut off as the vorpal edge of brain-biter found its mark in the Demon’s broad back, and the beast whipped around frantically, roaring in a combination of pain and rage and aware now that it had been flanked, and would have two enemies to fight off…

Before it had truly adjusted to that though a third figure interjected herself into the battle, as Fade hacked down as hard as she co0uld with her twinned blades.

The Ghour staggered backwards and pressed its spine against the wall, knowing that it would have to try and hold them off like that and not give up its back if it were to have any chance at all of surviving.

Greg, at the far end of the room had also apparently decreed that one of his opponents would be more likely than the other to meet his maker first, and it was the tyrannosaur… Both of his lightning bolts had found their mark, and the smooth hide of the dinosaur was charred and smoldering in two streaks down each flank… But that didn’t stop the beast from coming on again, and trying to close its massive jaws over its Deathless opponent, of course when it did that it brought itself within range of the circle of electrical energy that surrounded the sorcerer…
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