Part 7>>>The Shadow of Love (an LoF adventure)

[dplax]

Andrion Wilgor

Despite the fatigue in his wings, despite his muscles already tired from the relentless circling above the Tower of Shadow one thing made Andrion go on. The Mage had mentioned something about Andrion getting out of the owl body he was in.

What Andrion had hoped for seemed to be possible. He only needed his own head. The miles seemed to fly below him, but eventually even the elation was not enough to keep him going and he had to rest. The day passed rapidly and in the next morning Andrion set out with renewed vigor.

It was around midday when he spotted the dull greyness of Castle Lesismoore as a smear on the horizon. A smear and a disgrace which would forever shame Andrion. Being overcome only through numerical superiority could not lessen the humiliation he felt as he circled the castle.

Inside those walls where he had fallen, he could feel nothing. He could pick up no trace of his missing head, nothing whatsoever, neither could he pick up any trace of the drow who had taken it. Then suddenly he felt it. It was a very weak sensation, but something seemed to be tugging at him, willing him to approach. Nothing but a treacherous bog lay in that direction, but Andrion knew better than not to trust his instincts.

Above the swamp the pull was definitely stronger, and was almost as a physical force, pulling Andrion towards the slimy waters. Andrion did not resist the attraction and soon he spotted the first difficulty since he had set out. A chuul was sleeping on a flat rock in the middle of the swamp, close to a cloth bag, which Andrion could instantly feel contained what he was looking for.

The oversized insect looked definitely capable of devouring the body of an owl in a matter of seconds. Andrion was not aware of the fact that this particular chuul was quite content with what it had eaten in the last forty eight hours. A drow was a tasty and filling meal. It was with utmost caution that Andrion approached the sack. His owl claws made short work of it, and finally he spotted what he was seeking.

There were two heads in the sack, his own and one which he did not recognize. The second head seemed to move its mouth, but Andrion was ready for it and with a rapid movement of his claws, he tore the tongue out.

The damp swamp air and insects had already started devouring the heads and rot was starting to settle in on the right side of his face, but it was Andrion's own head, the last remaining part of his body. He grabbed hold of the head with his claws, but found that in his tired state, after having flown for most of the last three days he could not even move it.

Nearby the chuul stirred, but continued sleeping. Andrion, unable to budge the rotting lump of flesh, decided to go with a radical solution. Working swiftly and silently with both beak and claws he tore chunks of flesh from the head.

The chuul was still unmoving when Andrion flew off, carrying an eye in one claw, a chunk of flesh in his beak and an ear in his other claw. The long journey back to the tower had begun.

[Elif Godson]

Vincent Pathfinder 81/98

Panic was setting in, the pain of his wounds, the cry's of his companions, the smell of burning flesh, all weighted against his fight or flight feeling's. Then the pain of his wounds subsided out of no where and a calmness set in with the healing. Marcos was down, Yevaud had suddenly stopped his blade dance and changed direction's leaving just him at the backside of the demon. And then she turned and rushed with fury of the nine hell's towards him before he could even react. He wasnt ready for a frontal attack, and doubted he could fend off half of her blows, he sparred a glanced at Marcos as he readied himself for a defensive parry and took note that he was breathing and showing signs of life still, pondering for a moment to go to his aide his sight was drawn to a blueish flash of light out of the corner of his eye. Hearing the hiss of the demon, he snapped back to her noticeing that she had stopped her rush and had a look of sudden pain and surprise across her face. He didnt think twice, he was going to get out of her line of sight and so turning to the doorway he noticed that the cleric and bladesinger were headed that way,and decided to do like wise, he spead to follow them through.

[Morgeruat]

Yevaud

As the elf fled the scene in the direction that Ana had gone he caught the whispered words at the edge of his consciousness, barely above the surface din of the pounding of blood in his own ears, or his normally near-silent feet slapping against the uneven surface of the floor of the room. He changed course slightly and scooped up the wolf-woman hooking her up in a single motion and stumbling momentarily before regaining his balance and beginning to recover his speed.

[Larry_OHF]

For those brave souls in the Castle

Anarrima had fled. She could handle no more, and saw nothing but death in their future if they would have stayed to fight on.

Yevaud likewise understood the uselessness of it all, and realized that although he could now brag that he'd gone head-to-head with a Marilith and had not died...that was about as far as his bragging rites would go for now. He was able to get the final word in as it were when realizing that her back had been turned to him while she sought the blood of Vincent, Yevaud was able to deal a special blow to her that really hurt. It caught her off-guard, for the strength behind the attack had been enhanced moreso than his previous attacks, and for a moment she was reeling in the pain of the attack while Vincent escaped from her deadly confrontation. Yevaud grabbed up Tao who was in her wolf form, weakened by the effects that Sombra was having on her. This slowed him down but for a small moment, but that is all that Ssayonele needed to recover her wits.

She turned to look at the runners, and saw Yevaud with the wolf and Vincent right behind him. She lashed out with her tail and struck Vincent in the back, knocking him forward and to his hands and knees. As soon as he fell out of the way, she threw another long-sword at the bladesinger and his pet. The sword flew straight and deadly, finding first the wolf being carried by Yevaud and cutting through her flank and into Yevaud's lower side. He consequently dropped his cargo and Tao fell to the floor with the sword in Yevaud's gut being ripped from him by her weight as she fell with it to the floor, both of them near the doorway. This attack was the last bit of energy that Tao had left, and her wolf form was lost. She turned back into mortal form, the sword lodged in her hip clean through.

Meanwhile two things were happening. Ssayonele was fast approaching Vincent to dice him to little pieces...and Marcos lay in great pain, wondering if he was to be left here alone to die...or would he be the last to die, watching the others be slain first while he could do nothing to stop it.

OOC>>>Vincent - 7 hp for the slap attack.
Tao, the attack made you lose control of your shifted state and you are really hurting right now!
Yevaud - 16 hp for the stab to the side that came out of Tao.

[ 06-12-2006, 11:47 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[Morgeruat]

Yevaud 29/45

Running was all he had been able to think of, then a fire erupted from his side. His legs buckled as Tao returned to her human form impaled on another of the Tanar'ri's swords, it did mean that she was down to four swords, but Kaylisa looked in dire straits, worse than the wound from the sword should have been able to cause (and it should be able to cause quite a bit, the wound looked like it would be lethal for any mortal). Carefully he climbed to his feet again and grasped her feet dragging her behind him as he limped along trying to keep his footing and escape without causing her more damage than was inevitable from the wound. It was time to get her to Ana and be done with the humans and the damage they had caused in this place through their foolish shortsightedness.


ooc near as I can tell, I didn't see any notes about HP gained from the Aid spell, so that takes the bonus from the herbs minus the damage from being stabbed.

[Larry_OHF]

For the Surviving Heroes of Lore

Ssayonele could not believe it! The combatant she'd faced off against was fleeing and leaving her to her fury. He grabbed up his friend and continued to run, and she could not stand to see this fight go unfinished. She rushed forward and intended to chop up Vincent as quickly as possible and move on to get at Yevaud before he got too far away.

As luck would have it...and what a miraculous thing it is when it comes at opportune moments...is that the castle submerged in the murk shifted again, sinking a bit deeper, and tilting a bit towards one side, making Ssayonele lose her balance and waver in her attack.

OOC>>>
Vincent, you slide along the floor before you've had a chance to get up from falling previously.

Marcos, you are still laying there alone, and seemingly forgotten by your companions.

Yevaud, you have Tao and are running for your life through the castle and up floors to the exit. You can see Anarrima ahead of you now because she's been slowing down and watching behind for you to be coming up.

[Elif Godson]

Vincent Pathfinder 74/98

Struggling to gain his footing in the muck and recover his breath, he stuck the dagger into a crack on a wall to gain some support. Knowing death was near, he could feel the cold embrace yet again, he shook monetarily and then heaved himself forward into the hallway. A touch of fear had crept into his psyche and all he thought of was getting out alive. Reaching into his satchel he pulled out a clay jar of greek fire, turned and threw it at the demon then spead down the hallway running for his life.

[Larry_OHF]

Those that are running for their lives...

The castle that was submerged heaved again and a huge brick come loose in the floor, allowing the marshes to seep their muddy substance into the castle to further cause the castle to tilt. By now, the marilith was not concerned with killing any of the little people running about, rather how she was going to get out of the castle. She headed for the exit herself, using magical energies to shift her form to better fit through. She began to reshape even as she moved with lightening speed toward the door, and Vincent.

Vincent, in one final act to defend his life, or at least to buy himself enough time to get a head-start, threw an explosive jar at the marilith as she came towards him and the exit. She saw it coming, not knowing what it was, and sliced it with her sword in the air, exploding its contents and sending her backwards in a burning scream...but she was not down for long, for her anger and desperation fueled her own internal fire and she picked right back up and came at him again.

Meanwhile, Yevaud (with Tao) and Ana were nearing the first floor.

It was Anarrima that made it there first, coming through the doorway and knowing that all she had to do was get to the window in the room down the hallway...but first she had to get through the dining area where all those skeletal remains lay at rest.

But herein lies the problem.

Falling several times as the castle submerged more into the depths under the weight of the new castle, and tilting to one side while it sank...she came into the dining room to find the skeletons were no longer at rest. They were animated by some power, whether due to the release of the marilith down below from the emerald that had held their spirits or from the disturbance of the castle itself...she'd not even try to guess at. She stood very still, hoping that they did not notice her standing in the doorway. Down below, Yevaud was coming up the final flight of stairs right behind her. His footfalls sounded heavier than usual, and strained.

She had to turn these things...if they waded into a collection of 60 skeletons, they'd be ripped apart.

Just then, they turned in unison and stared right at her.

"Oh...no..."

She raised her arms to begin turning them with her clerical power even as they bumped one another to be the first at ripping her apart. She only had a moment...could she get her prayer spoken fast enough?

[ 06-20-2006, 05:12 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

[Legolas]

Inquisitor Marcos of Snowdale - 17/98

His flesh was burned by the agonizing yet unseen fires of the portal, and it felt as if his ribs had bent inwards to stab his lungs anew with every breath he took. Ice-cold eyes stared ahead in desperation whilst he clutched for a fading self-control. He lay for a time, striving to subdue the onslaught of a hundred gargantuan aches.

But he had not yet perished.
Whether the gods intended a valuable lesson, or merely for him to witness success or failure at the preservation of the others before the end, he would find out in time. For now, he could only watch, and gather his strength. The rasping, laboured respiration bespoke the difficulty of the task ahead.
He clung to it like a lifeline.

[Larry_OHF]

For Marcos

By now, the Inquisitor had realized that he was doomed to his fate of dying in this ancient castle...the same that housed an unknown ancestor of his, in fact. He lay there, broken, burned, but alive.

He felt something in the air...a tickle of something odd...

Through the door of a room in this vast hall a sound was heard. It sounded like a hammer was being taken to the door. Marcos turned to see this strange occurance even as the afore-heard hammer broke apart the doorway easily and out stepped a large skeleton, wearing a crown upon his boney head and a rotted red robe clung to his skeletal form. However, such an unholy creature was doomed to fail in this room, where the waters were rising, mud made the water slushy, and the tilt of the room made it hard to stand in. As the skeletal king stepped out and wandered for a moment, he tripped on something under the water and fell, submerging himself in the depths, his hammer being slung from his hands that could not easily hold on to it, and so it was lost from its grip.

The marilith was completing her shifting of size, and now small enough to fit through the opening. She slithered through the door and through the hall, looking for the escape route that the others had taken.