VAN wrote:"yes lets move. I don't think I can be much help fighting the flames but maybe we are lucky and get some of the attackers! The temple of Morninglord has been attacked two days in a row. For sure not a coincidence! Lets hope we find survivors!"
Jamethon asks-
''Ino, is it possible for you to cast that spell again- the one that lets us all fly together? We need to get there as quickly as we can- especially if you hope to catch the arsonists.''
Last edited by ewancummins on Sun Nov 08, 2009 10:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
VAN wrote:"Sure thing! Very good idea! Gather around me."
When everyone is gathered Inovidil waves her hands and casts the spell.
After the spell is cast, Jamethon floats a few feet off the ground. He orients himself towards the city center, where you all can make out the glow of the fire in the distance. Looking back over his shoulder at Ino he says, with a smile,
''Terrible times- but I couldn't ask for better company!''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Shana steps back and raises her hands, sweeping them in a smooth gesture and with a grating, groaning sound, a stone wall rises from the ground in front of her, blocking the undead's approach. The effects are probably more intricate than the undead need, but the illusion is not slowed by attention to detail. If the undead seem halted by the wall, she points at one and sends four sparkling flickers of light streaming from her fingers into its chest. If they're not, she mutters again, and vanishes.
[Major Image of a stone wall to fend them off. if they are fooled, magic Missile (x4) on the nearest. If not, invisibility on self, and a shouted warning!]
kintire wrote:Shana steps back and raises her hands, sweeping them in a smooth gesture and with a grating, groaning sound, a stone wall rises from the ground in front of her, blocking the undead's approach. The effects are probably more intricate than the undead need, but the illusion is not slowed by attention to detail. If the undead seem halted by the wall, she points at one and sends four sparkling flickers of light streaming from her fingers into its chest. If they're not, she mutters again, and vanishes.
[Major Image of a stone wall to fend them off. if they are fooled, magic Missile (x4) on the nearest. If not, invisibility on self, and a shouted warning!]
The dead men stop just short of the wall. They begin to shuffle to the left, as if seeking to go around the illusory barrier. Shana's magic missiles take down one of the shamblers- it collapses into the fire and just lays there, burning and not moving.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Shana lets fly another volley of Magic Missiles, then pauses as she watches the corpses shamble. She gestures again, and another wall of stone rises from the ground, this time in a cylinder around herself. Then, the sparkling lights fly out once more
kintire wrote:Shana lets fly another volley of Magic Missiles, then pauses as she watches the corpses shamble. She gestures again, and another wall of stone rises from the ground, this time in a cylinder around herself. Then, the sparkling lights fly out once more
Two more burning shamblers fall prey to the devastating volleys of magic missiles. The remaining five never emerge from the blazing rectory. Shana can see that one of those has fallen and is now being consumed by the flames, but the others are lost to her sight.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Crowds of local men and women begin to show up at the fire. Many carry buckets, washbasins, etc; and soon an impromptu bucket brigade is splashing water on the fire. One man, fresh from the nearest tavern, even uses two big pewter flagons to fling water at the flames. Of course, things are to far gone at this point for the fire-fighting effort to do much more than slow the inevitable destruction.
Others check the bodies near the building or even those visible in the already destroyed but still-smoking portions of the temple. These volunteers begin the grisly work of dragging the dead to one side and bringing the wounded further away from the smoke and fire.
Several minutes after the local volunteers arrive, most of the rest of party [missing only the cleric] arrives by air.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Shana is providing some assistance to the rescue efforts, but mostly she is guarding them, watching intently for further undead that might threaten the workers. She is weeping: and does not seem too enthused to see the party arrive. well, not all of it anyway...
Jamethon calls down to Shana [he's still hovering over the ground]-
''Shana, are you hurt? Where is Lieutenant Guischard?''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
"Shana!" Blaise calls out, swooping down to embrace her. He's taken aback by her shaken (and likely soot-smudged) appearance. With his enhanced vision, he sees the still-twitching corpse of several obviously undead creatures. "Ezra's bones," he says, "what's happened here? Who did this?"
"There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are."
--W. Somerset Maugham
Shana hugs Blaise briefly, but pulls free quickly and resumes watching the burning buildings, glancing up at Jamethon.
"I'm fine. I got here too late. Alain's about: he was tending the wounded. As for what happened... the place was attacked. By necromancers or undead I think. Be careful... there were some zombies here when I arrived, and there's still at least four unaccounted for."
Alain, who up to this point was helping the wounded, approaches the party. He addresses Jamethon, but makes himself clear enough to be heard by everyone in the party.
"As you can see things are pretty bad here. Whoever did this still has yet to reveal themselves, so I suppose we have yet another mystery on our hands. Hopefully they are related or soon we may discover wow insurmountable our odds are."
He points off in the distance a ways and continues. "We have been putting the wounded over there..."He points at another collection of bodies on the ground, "and the dead over there. Not all of the wounded have been attended to but I have been doing my best. The wounded priest has been helping with the wounded a great deal as well." He stops for a moment, taking a brief drink from his water skin to clear the burning choking sensation in his throat.
"We need to figure out how to put this blaze out, or else it will take this quarter of the city with it. Either that or we need to organize an evacuation, which may prove difficult as we do not know the terrain as well as the locals."
kintire wrote:Shana hugs Blaise briefly, but pulls free quickly and resumes watching the burning buildings, glancing up at Jamethon.
"I'm fine. I got here too late. Alain's about: he was tending the wounded. As for what happened... the place was attacked. By necromancers or undead I think. Be careful... there were some zombies here when I arrived, and there's still at least four unaccounted for."
''Undead? I see... Threan will have something to kill, maybe. Alright, thank you, Shana. Ah, yes, I see Alain now...''
The bard approaches and says his piece.
Jamethon nods.
''If we cannot put it out, we may need to evacuate the area, just as you say. We can fall back and cut the bridges. That won't leave much hope for anyone who might still be alive in there, though...''
Turning to Ino, he asks-
''Ino, can you do something to extinguish the flames or at least to dampen the fire?''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
