Chapter 2: Rites of Passage

[Lara]

Pel runs.

[Joe]

Streko valiantly attempts to keep up with Pel, his sickle in his hand and Olladra's holy symbol fluttering against his chest, a soft warmth signifying a presence Streko knows all too well.

"Pel! I can FEEL them! Can you? Such abomination and evil! May the Host protect us all!"

[Jeff]

In Phorem's Tower

The old mage nods his head at Grafth's words. "Yes, yes. You're right. It isn't quite as fragrant as it once was, is it?" Phorem casts a spell, then the same spell again, evidently conjuring some sort of small invisible spirit which begins to spread out some sort of strong-smelling dried flower petals and spices from a kitchen cabinet. At least, until this place airs out more thoroughly, it pushes away the foulness.

"What do I do?" Phorem repeats, as if it was his own rhetorical question. He glances down at the 'mysterious text' and walks to one of the open windows in the adjoining rooms. "Who do I do?"

He sits down on a chair and finally acknowledges Grafth. "That's a difficult question to answer, young Graft. I am a sage, above all, so friends and colleagues—and long-lost nieces—can come to me if they need help with anything. But it might be more accurate to tell you what I don't do. And that's leave this tower. It's my punishment; though I've often wondered if excoriation is better..."

"No, no. That's utter nonsense. I am a member of House Orien; always have been, always will be."

The old mage's eyes have drifted off, but he looks back at Grafth again keenly. "My question for you, young man, is what are you doing? And why are you here, in my tower, guarding so carefully a book that hopes to forge a link between Eberron and fields of Shavarath?"

Dhaz, standing beside Grafth, chuckles darkly. "I put off coming to this city for years...and when I finally board that rail, I end up here. Shavarath?" The shifter scratches his head. "That's...another world, isn't it?"

"Yes, the Battleground," Phorem answers. "A place of eternal conflict. Makes the Last War look like a scuffle between young boys. Those infernal lemures were drawn to the portal I accidentally formed...but they were ordered to fight, to kill, which ever enemy was on that battlefield at the time. Whoever wrote the notes in that book..."

Phorem gestures to the other room, where the book sits open. "Wants to start a fight. A very, very big one."

[Josh]

In Phorem's Tower

"The Battleground... are you saying that not only does the book allow you to open a portal to Shavarath, but also give someone the capacity to control beings from that world as well? I can imagine the devastation that simply allowing such chaos to run wild on Eberron would cause, but without the proper control, it would only amount to chaos.

"If one were to use this book for a fight, it must be incredibly powerful indeed." Grafth, seated, ponders the thought. A dark shadow crosses his face. "Honestly, Phorem, I don't know what I'm doing here. I've never been one to meddle in affairs of magic. I try my best to stay out of such complex situations. Yet here I am, here we all are.

"I cannot speak for the others, but I want only for this situation to end. In a way, it may be best if the book was simply destroyed- if such a thing is possible."

The shifter leans back, eyes facing the ceiling. "This may be too much for us. I only wish to do what I know- quiet travel, good food, simple deliveries... oh!"

Grafth moves to his pack, rummaging through it's contents noisily. "I had meant to ask you about this earlier, but the lemures were quite distracting." He removes a small pouch, and from it withdraws the dragonshard. He extends his hand toward the sage.

"I was charged with taking this to a man, Ralsor, in Lyrander Tower. I was told that this man could tell us more about this situation. I was wondering if there was anything YOU might be able to tell me about this shard first."

[Jeff]

ROUND 2

15 = Pel
13 = Enemies
9 = Blademarks
8 = Goran
7 = Streko
3 = Kal / Tangat / Taymra
_______________________

Pel runs.

With Enan lying upon the floor, bleeding out from the back of his neck, the unnamed soldier and the hideous Davin both look to the present threat: the creature’s eyes turn on Kal. “Kill the girl!” he says in a voice permanently damaged, then advances on Kal himself.

He moves like an animal, lunging sideways and forward to get around Kal’s weapon. The Deneith heir steps bodily aside, but Davin catches his swinging arm and pulls it up to his gruesome lips, clamping down hard with razor-like teeth. The chainmail of Kal’s sleeve averts a worse bite, but the creature’s teeth puncture a few links and manage to penetrate the skin….even as his putrid breath washes over him, making him want to gag. Almost instantly he feels an unnatural stiffness to the muscles of his arm, but Kal masters it and pulls away from the creature again.

The soldier, happy to move away from his alleged superior, raises steel against Taymra. The Orien heir moves fast, seeming at ease in constant motion. She sidesteps the blade, muttering, “Idiot.”

With sword already in hand, Goran slips into the brewery, pulling the door closed behind him. He advances to Kal’s side, ready to bring his weapon to bear against the creature that Davin has become. Goran can’t help but think that the man had looked worlds better lying dead in the grassy field. Sickened as he is by this unnatural abomination, Goran knows in his heart that this is not one of the Emerald Claw’s zombie servitors—it’s intelligent and seemingly free-willed. Zombies, which he has trained to fight, are more easy to engage with bow or blade.

Streko does his best to keep pace with Pel, but the light-footed changeling inevitably begins to outdistance him. As the two race through the alleyway, they see a single homeless man look up, a puzzled and half-frightened expression on his face as they run past.

With Davin right in front of him, Kal is forced to step back to get his spell off without distraction. When he completes the incantation, he feels a surge of precognitive power—a sensation he’s finding more glorious each time. Adrenaline has nothing on this kind of magic!

Tangat bounds forward to Davin’s side, ready to aid Goran or Kal by distracting the creature.

Taymra sprints past the soldier and reaches the woman on the floor, who lies senseless on the ground, bleeding badly. She kneels and attempts to bind the woman’s wound as quickly as she can.

____________________________________

• Davin’s attack: 16 (2 damage to Kal) / Kal’s Fortitude save = 16* (success).
• Soldier’s attack: 10 (miss).
  
• Kal casts True Strike.
  
• Taymra’s Heal check = 23 (success, the dying woman is stabilized)
  
• Pel and Streko running (1 of 3 rounds).

* Damned lucky. Kal has no bonus to his Fortitude saves!

[Darren]

Those who have seen Kalarian fight have seen the wicked grin that comes to his face as he stares at Davin. Despite the wound, he is enjoying himself, and looks forward to removing the creature's head from its body. Again. He leans forward, his sharrash held behind him in one hand, his other hand in front of him for balance.

Without looking at her, Kalarian shouts an order to Taymra. "Help him!" he yells, pointing a hand towards Enan. He brings that hand forward as he swings his sharrash around in front of him. Stepping to his right to avoid Goran, Kalarian swings the weapon around in a devastating arc.

_________
Attacking the monster. Let's hope my luck holds out. It never seems to when it comes to initiative rolls!

[Jeremy]

Goran will attack, with his sword against either Davin or the other, whoever is closer.

[Jeff]

In Phorem's Tower

"The Battleground... are you saying that not only does the book allow you to open a portal to Shavarath, but also give someone the capacity to control beings from that world as well?"

Phorem shakes his head. "Control over such beings? That's another matter, and likely one that would require another book's worth of complex research or more. And unless there are other notes...my guess is no, the wizard behind this—Malov, perhaps—has no such intention. Except to forge a link between Eberron and Shavarath, to draw out the ideals of that plane, the ideals of war.

"Do you know what a manifest zone is?" Phorem asks, but seeing no immediate reply, he continues. "Rare, powerful places where the other planes overlap with the material world. The city of Sharn, for example, is built—by design—upon a manifest zone of Syrania, the Azure Sky. With that plane in such proximity to Eberron, magic involving flight is stronger; that is the only way that the miles-high towers of Sharn do not fall. Surely they would crumble upon their own weight, but Syrania's principles hold them up. It's a wonder, truly."

"But manifest zones can also be dangerous. Syrania is a place of air and, they say, angelic beings, so it's not so worrisome. But in a manifest zone to Fernia, the Sea of Fire, everything burns...and fire is very difficult to quench. The planes are...complex, certainly. Some mages have the ability to temporarily summon creatures from the planes, but such magic is fleeting; denizens from the outer planes are naturally drawn back to the planes.

"If our wizard is trying to open portals for an extended period of time, then things might spill out. Creatures like lemures...they can, ultimately, be defeated or driven back by those with the power to do it. But...what if the concepts of Shavarath come forth...such exposure would be very dangerous."

"I heard a colleague of mine once pass along a frightening rumor: that it was Shavarath's becoming coterminous with—that is, close to—Eberron that ignited the Last War in the first place. That its nearness caused men to anger more easily, caused the violent to become bloodthirsty."

The old mage sighs and falls silent, reaching out to accept the dragonshard from Grafth's hand. He squints his eyes to get a closer look. "Siberys," he mutters.

[Jeff]

ROUND 2

15 = Pel
13 = Enemies
9 = Blademarks
8 = Goran
7 = Streko
3 = Kal / Tangat / Taymra
_______________________

As Pel and Streko continue to tear up the cobbles:

Davin delightfully closes the distance, ignoring Goran entirely and laying in to Kal with teeth and claws...but remarkably Kal avoids every slash of claws, each snap of razor teeth. Davin growls in rage, spitting stinking saliva. "You will die!"

The soldier follows behind the creature, but turning his blade against Goran. His aim is good, but the tip of his sword only manages to scrape into the ranger's leather armor, a painful slash.

Goran has fought men before—and knows this man may well be an Emerald Claw soldier—but it's clear to his sensibilities that the creature Davin is far more dangerous and needs to be dealt with first. As Tangat barks and nips at the creature from behind, Goran slashes into the thing, but the creature is too fast. Even while focusing his rage upon Kal, Davin seems vaguely aware of the threat Goran poses, stepping sideways to avoid the sweep of the ranger's blade.

Kal is forced to step back five feet yet again in order to bring his long-hafted sharash to bear...but he knows precisely where to strike. His strike is true, but not strong enough to fell the creature. The war scythe's blade draws a livid red-black line across Davin's chest, eliciting a snarl of pain.

Cursing, Taymra jumps up and runs to the fallen Blademark to tend his wound.

____________________________________

• Davin's attacks: 4 (miss), 12 (miss), 10 (miss)
  
• Soldier's attack: 22 (2 damage to Goran)
  
• Goran's attack: 6 + 4 +2 (flanking w/ Tangat) = 12 (miss)
  
• Kal's attack: 14 + 2 + 20 (true strike) = 36 / damage is 4 + 1 = 5
  
• Taymra's Heal check = 25 (success, Enan is stabilized)
  
• Pel and Streko running (2 of 3 rounds).

[/li][/ul]

[Darren]

Laughing at Davin's failed attack, Kalarian taunts him, "How many times must I kill you?" Preparing to take another step back, if necessary, Kal readies his sharrash for another blow.

Catching Taymra's eye, Kalarian nods meaningfully towards the stairs, a look that says, "Get downstairs!"

[Jeremy]

Goran will continue to attack the undead abomination. Emerald Claw it might not be, but it's undead nonetheless, and his hatred for that foul sort of being is boundless.

[Josh]

In Phorem's Tower

The shifter frowns, "If one were to observe my companions, one might think that Shavarath has moved quite close already."

To Phorem, Grafth asks, "Siberys shards are most rare, correct? I was not instructed to give it to anyone, but merely to show it to the man at Lyrander- certainly I would not part so quickly with something of value. However, I'm not sure what power this shard might enable. I had heard once that Siberys shards are most useful to the dragonmarked... but I'm no expert in such matters."

Grafth has begun pacing slowly about the chamber. "Is there a way to tell what might have been done to this shard? Or perhaps to trace who might have owned it before it came into my possession?"

[Jeff]

(For those of you in the present battle, please read these sections, anyway; even though your characters aren't hear/seeing this. It might save us time later should someone recap.)

In Phorem's Tower

"Siberys shards are most rare, correct? I was not instructed to give it to anyone, but merely to show it to the man at Lyrandar- certainly I would not part so quickly with something of value. However, I'm not sure what power this shard might enable. I had heard once that Siberys shards are most useful to the dragonmarked... but I'm no expert in such matters."

"Yes," Phorem answers slowly, still examining the pearlescent dragonshard. It's difficult to tell just how keen his eyes are at his age. He looks up at length and smiles. "Matheu will be upset to learn that I am discussing this with you both in his absence. He considers himself the foremost expert on the subject. I shall have to do my best without him."

"Siberys shards are considered the blood of the dragon Siberys, who formed the Ring of Siberys when she perished in the old myth. They are used for creation of devices that exploit the powers of the dragonmark. Wands, rings, weapons...anything that a 'marked heir might use to enhance his mark is fixed with a Siberys shard.

"What does a dragonmark by itself do? Very little, in my opinion. It gives its owner a fleeting magical ability. Unchangeable. The best he can do is focus himself to developing it, growing it, to learn new abilities. But it is, ultimately, limited in what it can do.

"But Siberys shards harness the power of a dragonmark to allow for greater, more diverse use. The chief conductor of the lightning rail—who must possess the Mark of Passage—can command the elemental that pushes the coach along its path only because there is a Siberys shard of sufficient power bound into the reins of the conductor's coach. The Sivis gnome who transcribes a written message and sends its contents through a speaking stone can only do so because the Siberys shards attached to the speaking stone itself channel the power of his Mark of Scribing in a way that the mark alone cannot. You get the idea."

With the dragonshard in his hand he gestures to the window to the world at large. "These stones—and to a lesser extend, Khyber shards—are the backbone of our civilization. They allow for possibility. Without them, the great dragonmarked houses would simply be families of people who are merely good at what they do. Their end product would not be the same."

"And they were used in the war, too," Dhaz adds quietly. "More's the shame."

"Yes, yes," the old mage replies. "The warforged were created because the bearers of the Mark of Making found innovative ways to use Siberys shards. Ah, look at me—you'd think I was still lecturing to the students at the Passage Institute. I suppose I still miss that."

Grafth has begun pacing slowly about the chamber. "Is there a way to tell what might have been done to this shard? Or perhaps to trace who might have owned it before it came into my possession?"

Phorem sits in silence, pondering the question. "There are wizards, perhaps, with complex spells that could do such a thing. I could possibly recommend you to them, but you wouldn't be able to do so in a hurry. Matheu may know more."

[Josh]

In Phorem's Tower

"They allow for possibility. Without them, the great dragonmarked houses would simply be families of people who are merely good at what they do. Their end product would not be the same."

"Interesting... but typically these shards are made to work with a specific task, right? Rather than just generally augmenting someone's power.

"Even without knowing what this shard can do, it seems that given our circumstances, and the tone of the note that accompanied the shard, it could potentially be connected to this book. Whether it has the power to aid or hinder our enemy is an unknown. And of course, it might have nothing to do with any of this Malov business."

He looks at Dhaz, "I believe I am in need of a drink; i need to think this through with a calmer mind."

[Jeff]

Because Pel and Streko are doing the same action, I'm going right to round 3 without waiting for Lara and Joe to post first. Gotta keep things rolling! Both Pel and Streko will appear on the map in round 4, though. So Lara/Joe: go ahead and give me your next actions. Lara is within sight of the alley doors and Streko is almost at the corner before that.

ROUND 3

15 = Pel
13 = Enemies
9 = Blademarks
8 = Goran
7 = Streko
3 = Kal / Tangat / Taymra
_______________________

Pel rounds the final corner—any weapons out?—and darts into the alleys behind the building. She spots three back doors, any of which might be the correct one. Standing beside the eastmost door is a man in the livery of a Blademark mercenary employed by House Deneith. The uniform is mostly gray, with hints of the purple, green, and gold of Deneith. The man's skin is a rich brown, almost as dark as mahogany, and his hair is black, cut and braided to his shoulder. The man spins around when Pel comes into view, holding up a blade. "Stay back, girl! This is no place for you to be right now!"

Behind her, Streko labors to keep up. He sees the changeling—resembling the human, Pellorien, he once knew her to be—disappear around the corner. He's almost there—he can even hear the Blademark calling out to Pel.

The creature Davin lunges forward again, stepping beneath the reach of Kal's sharash. Kal jerks away from every attack he can, but one of Davin's filthy claws scrapes a searing line across his neck. The sting is heightened even as he feels that same preternatural stiffness course through his veins.

A moment later and Kal realizes he has no feeling in his muscles. The sharash becomes impossible to hold...and his legs have forgotten how to support his weight, especially while his center of gravity shifts. Kal drops hard to the floor, terrified at this feeling of utter helplessness. The hideous creature's face leers down at him; Kal has never seen a mouth look so ravenous....

Kal manages to get out his words to Taymra just as his voice is stolen away. The only thing Kal can do is move his eyes, and only the slightest amount of air he can draw in his lungs to breath.

The other soldier sees his undead superior has Kal well in hand, so he renews his attack against Goran. Yet the Eldeen ranger maintains his edge, and ducks beneath the man's next swing. Goran keeps him at bay, but turns his attention to the creature which looks very intent upon devouring Kal in the next few seconds. He raises his blade in a two-handed grip...

And Davin turns his head, aware of the attack, ready to spring aside...

Then Tangat's snarling bark diverts his attention...just...enough...

For Goran to bury his longsword into the creature's sickening hide, nearly cutting it in two. Davin cries out in anger, if not pain, turning his malevolent eyes upon the threat that Goran has proven himself to be. His torso twists sideways even as his legs remain, proving yet again that only the powers of undeath could allow him to survive such a blow. But the black-red blood that spills down to the floorboards (and upon Kal) is also proof that he can't stand for much more punishment.

Goran knows he's the creature's next target.

Another scream issues from the cellar, and Taymra looks conflicted. She meets Goran's eyes for a moment—handle this, she seems to suggest—and she reaches up and touches her face.

The dragonmark that peeks out from her hairline and traces its curve near her temple flares bright blue....and she vanishes!

____________________________________

• Davin's attacks: 2 (miss), 8 (miss), 19 (2 damage to Kal) / Kal's Fortitude save = 3 (failure, paralyzed until round 6)
  
• Soldier's attack: 7 (miss)
  
• Goran's attack: 11 + 4 +2 (Tangat's aid another) = 16 / damage is 6 + 2 +1 (two-handed) = 9

[/li][/ul]

[Darren]

Although no one can hear it, Kalarian is cursing loudly.

[Darren]

GAH! Lara, I'm pretty sure that's Amal back there!

[Jeremy]

Hopefully the remnant of Davin won't be able to floor Goran too...and assuming he doesn't, Goran will keep his attention on him, and endeavor to finish the f**ker off with his next blow.

He yells to Tangat, to distract the soldier, if possible. He also nods his head towards the soldier, to help give weight to his point.

[Lara]

Pel stops, halting some distance from the guard. "Amal?" she asks.

__________

darren said:

GAH! Lara, I'm pretty sure that's Amal back there!

You mean "Blademark mercenary employed by House Deneith" isn't code for "Emerald Claw ruffian"?

I guess I was thinking too hard about how there'd have to be someone unfriendly covering the back door.

[Jeff]

ROUND 4

15 = Pel
13 = Enemies
9 = Blademarks
8 = Goran
7 = Streko
3 = Kal / Tangat / Taymra
_______________________

Pel halts in mid-spell, just before loosing the magic. The Blademark's face registers recognition to the name she calls out. "Yes...you are Kalarian's allies?" There is some suspicion in his eyes, but he diverts half of his attention back to the door. "It's locked. We need to get this down!"

His abdomen still issuing a great deal of dark blood, Davin turns his fury upon Goran. The Eldeen ranger steps back, trying to stay away from the deadly toxins of the creature's natural weaponry...but finally a single talon rakes across his forearm, slicing the leather and drawing a line of blood.

Frighteningly fast, the necrotic toxins tap into Goran's blood, freezing his limbs, making them seize up. The sword in his hand falls from a fist that refuses to hold it tightly, and the half-elf falls hard, painfully, to his knees and begins to slump downward. The gray, dessicated creature that is Davin lets out a triumphant, rasping laugh.

Goran and Kal both hear Tangat bark mournfully. Goran joins his Deneith comrade in helpless frustration. He'd nearly had that creature down...one more blow might have sufficed...

The other soldier looks smug, stepping over to where Goran has crumbled into a half upright position. "Another piece of Reacher scum," the man says, then kicks Goran hard with the hard tip of his boot, giving the ranger a bloody lip and a painful vibration through his skull. "Should have kept to your trees, half-elf."

In the ally just behind the brewery, the Blademark steps back and kicks hard at the lock. The door holds against his blow. "Help me with this!" he shouts.

Streko rounds the bend and sees both Pel and the Deneith mercenary at the door.

Both Davin and the soldier turn to look toward the back of the brewery at the sound of the back door being slammed.

Tangat refuses to be ignored. Snarling more like his wolf sire, he lunges at Davin's feet. Teeth clamp down, tearing the fabric of his leg, but he fails to break through the creature's hardened skin.

Coron, the fearful-looking brewer, still stands off to the sight, looking on in horror. His eyes flash to Kal and Goran, and to the hideous creature at the center of his brewery. He looks conflicted.

Refresh!


The little red P means paralyzed.

____________________________________

• Davin's attacks: 7 (miss), 21 (3 damage to Goran), 10 (miss)
  
• Goran's Fortitude save = 7 + 4 = 11 (failure, paralyzed until round 6)
  
• Soldier's unarmed attack: 11 (4 nonlethal damage to Goran)
  
• Amal's attempt to force open the door = 9 (failure)
  

[/li][/ul]

[Joe]

Streko approaches Pel and the mercenary, a look of near-panic in his youthful face.

"Get us in there, whatever you have to do! I can feel the evil coming from inside. I might be the only one of us able to ward them off, blessed Olladra willing. HURRY!!!"

His sickle ready to slice anything in his way, Streko already begins formulating a plan of attack and prays for the guidance of his loving Goddess and the Eternal Host...

[Lara]

The guard's identity confirmed, Pel rushes over to the door.

With a slight look of disdain on her face, she says, "Stand aside and let me look at it before you beat it all to hell."

She pulls a small toolkit from her bag and examines the lock.

"Quickly," she mutters. "For surely they know we're at the door now."

____________________________
Open Lock = 18

[Jeff]

ROUND 5

15 = Pel
13 = Enemies
9 = Blademarks
8 = Goran
7 = Streko
3 = Kal / Tangat / Taymra
_______________________


Amal nods grimly at Streko's words, then grins when he sees Pel's lockpicks come out. He steps back to give her room. The changeling scrambles over to the door and inserts her lock, attempting what she knows is hard for all the best of burglars: picking a lock in a hurry. She inserts the tension wrench, then the hook pick, and within a few seconds' time realizes, to her relief, that this is not the best of locks. A few twists and—remarkably—it clicks open!

Inside, Davin points toward the back. "Find the Orien bitch!" he hisses, "And kill her quickly."

The soldier hurries back there, disappearing around the doorway into the back room, his booted feet stamping loudly on the thick floorboards.

"You and I, d'Deneith," Davin laughs, "Have a bone to pick." He kneels down into Kal's vision. From Kal's perspective, the world is on its side and the nightmarish creature looms in as with a fish-eye lens...

"One...bone...at...a time."

Kal feels his left hand grasped in an ice cold grip, pulled into view as Davin lifts it to his mouth. A sharp fire courses through his hand as the creature's needle teeth clamp down, and bite through! Silently, Kal screams, seeing the ring finger of his left hand hanging on by only a few fleshy threads in the monster's teeth, imminently to be torn completely free from his hand...

As soon as the final click! is heard on the back door, Amal gently pushes Pel aside, turns the knob, and throws his shoulder into the door. The door bangs open, spilling the filtered light of the alley into the back room of the brewery. Amal immediately leaps inside and stops just inside the next doorway, over the body of a blood-stained woman. He calls out in shock as he looks into the room beyond. "Host! Enan! Lord Kalarian!"

Tangat lets out a howling bark.

With room cleared, Streko is able to get into the room, where he stops above the unconscious woman. Even at a glance, he can tell—despite her deathly pallor—that she will live. It's the dessicated, gray-skinned parody of a human standing over the prone bodies of his companions in the room beyond that give him pause.

Having never seen one firsthand before, Streko yet knows that the creature is a ghoul: cannibalistic, intelligent, and ravenous undead animated by unholy magic. Their touch brings the stiffness of the grave, mere contact with their bodies sufficient to sicken someone. And it is clear to Streko that both Kal and Goran have temporarily succumbed to the creature's toxins, though the halfling can see that Goran got in a nasty blow before falling himself.

Tangat is still up and moving, and he valiantly attacks the ghoul again. This time his teeth close on Davin's ankle and dig in deep. Foul blood erupts from the foot like a small fount in the wolfdog's muzzle.

Davin releases his grip on Kal's mangled (but still largely intact) hand and drops to the ground, convulsing in a mockery of death. It's unsure if he's down for good. Tangat releases the ghoul's foot and promptly vomits, pieces of flesh and sickly-dark blood staining the floorboards. Tangat whines.

Coron stands aside, visibly shivering. "Didn't know...din't...know..."

Refresh!


The little red P means paralyzed.

____________________________________

• Pel's Open Lock check (a full-round action) = 10 + 8 +2 (thieves' tools) = 20 (just barely a success—nice!)
  
• Davin's attack: 10 (6 damage to Kal)
  
• Streko's Knowledge (religion) check = 21
  
• Tangat's attack: 17 (9 damage to Davin!)

(Both Goran and Kal will be able to move, if stiffly, on this next round. Lucky you it was a low roll on duration. Go ahead and post your intended actions, anyway. Evening climbing to your feet uses up half a round.)

[Jeff]

In Phorem's Tower

"Interesting... but typically these shards are made to work with a specific task, right? Rather than just generally augmenting someone's power.

Phorem shrugs. "Each shard is different, and has its own levels of power. I'm not an expert myself, nor a prospector. But most of the work is on the part of the crafter, to decide what strength the shard has and how it can best be applied. But Siberys shards are the most valuable, as they are the hardest to find...falling from the Ring of Siberys as they do in strange, faraway places of the world."

He looks at Dhaz, "I believe I am in need of a drink; i need to think this through with a calmer mind."

"Right you are, Graft," Dhaz says with a wink. "I need something...strong. I wonder how they're making out at that brewery. Think they'll pick something up for us, something...stiff? I could go for some Nightwood Ale right about now."

[Joe]

Streko, noticing the ghoul has been downed, at least momentarily, makes a quick decision, one which he hopes doesn't offend or anger his companions.

"I must go find Taymra. Where is she?"

Streko is obviously terrified, yet some inner rage propels him to speak quickly, bark orders and move...do something...to rid Eberron of these abominations.

"Amal, can you end this monster's existance once and for all on your own and see if my companions need assistance?"

Seeing one threat down, at least temporarily, he realizes that there MUST be at least one other undead beast...and they might not be in such a helpless state as the one before him.

"Pel, would you accompany me to find Taymra? I might need some assistance and your company would be greatly appreciated! Hopefully our friends will be okay, but right now, Olladra demands that I perform my duties and destroy any of the foul creatures that are left. Please."

To the brewer, he shouts in a comanding voice that belays his child-like stature. "HOW MANY OTHERS AND WHERE ARE THEY? SPEAK, MAN!"

[Darren]

"Good boy,Tangat"

Kalarian rises stifly to his feet, drawing his longsword and leaning on it for support. Once he is on his feet, he slams the sword through what remains of Davin. Seeing Streko near panic, he calls out in a strained voice. "Get him on his feet," he says, pointing towards Enan. "We need him." Moving slowly towards the fallen Blademark, Kalarian plans to give his sword to the man so he can continue the fight, relying on his sharrash and his magic to see him through. "The rest of these scum are in the basement, where Taymra and the Marshal are now. Get him on his feet, and then we'll head down there." Kalarian's final few words are short as he winces with the pain in his hand. As if to soothe that pain, Kalarian spits upon the former body of Davin.

[Joe]

"There is nothing I can do for them. Not yet, at least. I must go to the basement while there is still time. Whoever can follow and assist may do so."

There is a coldness in his voice as he attempts to master his fear and rage.

"Those downstairs cannot wait for us. If they are to survive and remain human, we must go!"

Streko shakes his head at Kalarian.

"I must destroy how many ever are left and it must be done quickly. If you cannot fight, you must stay out of the way or risk become one of them."

He turns to Amal. "Keep those who cannot fight up here. If any of them regain movement and can join us, their help would be appreciated. Until then, they will only be a distraction against these things."

With that, he turns away from Kalarian, Goran and the others, hoping his friends can understand the overpowering NEED within him to destroy these creatures.

"Well, sir?" Streko addresses the brewer. "How many more of those things are there and how do I get to the basement?"

Once he has his answer and without waiting for Pel, hoping that she will follow but not depending upon it, he heads toward the basement, one hand on his sickle, the other on his holy symbol, begging Olladra and the Host for the power needed to destroy the monsters he wishes he'd never have to face.

[Jeremy]

Goran will destroy whatever needs to be destroyed...assuming he can lift his sword, that is.

"No, don't worry about us, Streko, we're fine. I've just been checking out the fine grain in these floorboards...and Kal's been meaning to have that finger removed anyway." he rasps, shaking his head and laughing cynically.

Goran glances at the terror-frozen beermaker.

"And YOU...in return for your cowardice, I expect free beer for LIFE."

---

Feh! One swipe and I'm down for the count??? What the hells kinda super-ghoul is this anyway? Sheesh, some weapon, eh? Wish I had one: Scratch someone with a hangnail and they collapse like a sack of potatoes. Oh well, that's UNlife in the big city...

[Lara]

Pel enters the brewery through the back door and surveys the scene before her. A flash of disgust crosses her face momentarily, but she does not allow herself to be distracted by the emotion.

"I'm with you, Streko," she says, "I told Taymra I'd have her back. Let's find her."

She follows the cleric.

[Jeff]

I'm breaking out of turn-based mode for a moment, to make this part easer. But it may start again, depending on your—or the NPCs'—actions. Basically, if you do anything hostile, or cast a spell, or such, it will trigger combat again.

_______________________

Coron sputters at Streko's words. "A...f-few more, downstairs. Men. Soldiers."

Both Kal and Goran climb to their feet, their bodies aching from the unnatural stiffness that had claimed them. The creature Davin makes only a quiet hiss when Kal drives his sword through his body, then lays utterly still. Then he stands over Enan, who despite having been tended by Taymra remains unconscious for his wounds.

Amal kneels before his comrade. "He'll live," he says grimly, "But he needs a healer before long, to check for infection. What shall I do, my lord?" He glances pointedly back toward where Kal's companions are heading to the cellar.

At Goran's remark, Coron looks toward the front door, like all he'd like right now is to leave.

As Kal is left to decide, Streko, Pel, and Goran head down the stairs in the back room. When they reach the landing, they look down into the cellar, which is as large as the main floor above. The scent of wood and fermentation is very strong, and the space is lined with rows of barrels. Four mixing vats, a hearth, and various brewing implements dominate the room. There is a faint reek of decay in here as well, no doubt from the ghoul's presence. A pair of everbright lanterns are affixed to the wall, illuminating the room without the risk of fire.

You also see soldiers, arrayed for battle. None of them wear the colors of the Emerald Claw, but two of them are wearing the distinctive half-plate helmet that declares them as such.

Taymra stands nearest to you, with her rapier held to the throat of the soldier who'd been upstairs only moments ago (the one who kicked Goran in the face). It would appear there is some kind of stand-off, but it looks like the Emerald Claw has the upper hand...

The Sentinel Marshal* kneels upon the ground, his back to you, his sword laying on the ground just out of reach. One hand clutches his side where he's been stabbed (a flesh wound, it would seem). "Please!" he says, both angrily and pleadingly, his voice hoarse. "Leave him out of this. I will get you whatever you need." He is an older man, probably in his late 40s.

At the far side of the cellar, behind two of the soldiers, is another soldier. The man holds a boy in front of him with a longsword held to his exposed neck. The boy himself, a sandy-haired youth perhaps 10 years of age, looks bewildered, not quite with it.

"You've failed to deliver to us what you promised, Marshal Velhan," the soldier with the boy calls out. And now you dare to bring Deneith soldiers..."

The room settles into sudden silence as they become aware that Streko, Pel, and Goran are coming upon the scene.

Then: "Not another step forward, strangers!" the soldier calls out. "Unless you wish to see how much blood a small boy has in his body." The man's arm tenses.

____________________________________

* A reminder: The Sentinel Marshals are a branch of House Deneith who serve as international police for Khorvaire, the only legitimate authority who can cross national borders in pursuit of common justice. They are lawmen, bounty hunters, resolvers of universal conflict.