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Group 22 
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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Just as Elysian was working his subtle magic on the fire machine Vryala stepped in with some fire of her own rather making his work moot. A quick swarm from the more combative members of the group soon gave the mercenaries possession of the warmachines but Elysian knew as they all did that that would only be the start of their problems. Sure enough the ominous sounds coming from the darkness heralded the arrival of one of the skavens' terrible beasties.

The weather witch wanted to try some more magic, not a bad idea but Elysian had different reasons. Somewhere out there was a mage and perhaps if he/she/it stepped in to dispel perhaps he could spot them. Meanwhile he readied his handbow, he had no desire to go toe to toe with an eight foot mouse but a clip full of bolts in the face would ruin even the scariest fiend's day.

On the lookout for enemy mages in both mundane and second sight. On a more practical theme any approaching monsters are to receive a full clip in the face.

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Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

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Tue Aug 14, 2012 4:25 pm
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V's bomb flew true, and she was rewarded by splintered debris raining down around her position. Bullseye! She grinned, eager to join the Corsair brute in his mad bolt to close the distance - between all the brawlers, they finished off the burnt, squeaking crewrats to the last.

That's when the rumbling sounded from below. Vryala half-knew what to expect, having dealt with Rat Ogres before - but this seemed a tad different, and she kept a tight vigil as the cloudsinger attempted to work his ways once again. Looking at Elysian, she was glad to find him on guard as well - no doubt he'd had the same train of thought, and was waiting to lash out with a magical counter attack should that unknown force disrupt their schemes once more.

Stands up front with shield held high (though keeping a fair distance from the entrance)...

_________________
Vryala Naïlo - WS5 / S5 / T5 / D5 / I4

Equipment: bastard sword of Speed, shield of Defence, repeater (20/20), spear, mace, dagger, Armour of Night, SDC, whip, blowpipe (9/12)
Inventory: amulet of Strength, grapple, grenade x0, smoke x11, map, mage hand, sleep oil x8, cure balms x20, Yori's balms x1, winter gear, old kit, lion mask
Mount: Dark Steed (Blanky), barding, talisman of Protection
Gold: 1735
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Anarin Sarath (2), Basic Ride
Class: Warrior


Tue Aug 14, 2012 6:14 pm
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After a rumble of heavy snow, and a quick movements, the ratmens infernal machines were silenced. Phalx smirk, giving a sharp kick to the metal rod thing, these things would never beat a good strong crossbow. He looked ahead, adjusting the hood of his cloak slightly. Red eyes, beedy little things of simple animal rage glared back at him. Quickly the Shade reloaded Deathspitter, feeling a slight prickle of fear run over him.

He had faced down the little blighters many times before. Alone the skaven were as deadly as a wet cloth, but in packs, with their horrid creations and pets... A used clip of bolt fell into the compact snow, as he made ready for the fight.

Phalx will reload Deathspitter, and take his place behind his more heavily armoured comrades. He'll be going for headshots (why not)

_________________
Phalx Tr'dasr – WS5 / S4 / T4 / D5 / I4
Equipment: Deathspitter (5/20) 4 of these poisoned (1/2x QD, 3xSD), short sword, dagger, punching dagger (Bloodthirst Rune), shade cloak, full leather armour
Inventory: thieves tools, torches x3, healing balms x5, rope and grapple, Vikarh map, dice, winter gear, orc tusk,
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 5829
Skills: Basic Stealth, Precision Fire, Basic Ride, Frenzy, Ambidexterity,Suithenlu Khythan (1): SP2
Class: Shade
Check out, http://thingsfrom1934.com/


Tue Aug 14, 2012 7:56 pm
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The group consolidated their position around the now destroyed warmachines, just as the deep rumbling of heavy footsteps began to echo out from the dark sewer entrance ahead. In the darkness they could see the glaring red eyes of the evil ratmen, but as the rumbling intensified their chittering was silenced and they moved to the sides. Perhaps quietened by anticipation, or by supplication if they had another Greyseer in the tunnel. In the few seconds they had to spare the group prepared their next moves, Casaythe turning back to watch their rear as Vryala moved to the front, standing firm behind her shield. Karonath, Saldrimek and Fiat moved up behind her, and around them Phalx and the Mages found their place in the line. The Shade pointed his crossbow and waited, as both arcanists turned their attention to the aether.

For Caraoc, he plunged his mind into the Winds of Magic to draw up the power for another spell, hoping to make the snow outside the splintered remains of the doors that had barred the sewer entrance as slippery as ice. The Wind of Azyr however was not forthcoming, despite the magical tempest that was still raging at the other end of the City. Elysian on the other hand looked with his second sight to discern exactly what Caraoc had just encountered, looking for any sign that there was another enemy Mage in the area. What he saw with this second sight caused him to freeze for a moment, almost transfixed in disbelief. He knew Caraoc could see it too, and before either of them could overcome their terror and call out a warning, the rest of the group saw it too.

Another pair of red eyes came into view, these ones much larger and higher up than those of the vermin that lurked behind the dark doorway. They were full of malicious intelligence and evil intent, and burned so strongly with willpower and hatred that the group knew the moment they saw them that this was no Rat Ogre, this was something much, much worse. Moments later the beasts' snout came into view, and sickly green vapors seemed to coil up from the creatures' very skin, as though it was bleeding its unholy essence into the very air that sustained it. The group had seen that before, a shimmering ward that surrounded daemons and bound them to reality. It stepped into view completely, emerging from the darkness with a chittering roar that momentarily froze them to the spot, where lesser warriors would have turned and fled or simply died in terror.

The Verminlord was huge, stooping out of the doorway and then standing to it's full height as it roared. It was as tall as a Manticore or Mountain Chimaera. It's large ratlike head was topped with a pair of horns each as long as a Druchii was tall, it's snout filled with chisel like teeth each the size of axe heads. It had the hugely muscular body of a Daemon Prince, something the majority of the group were unfortunately all too familiar with, save a row of mutated spines jutting from it's back. It wore only a huge loin cloth emblazoned with the same scribbled triangle symbol they kept seeing on ratman shields and trinkets. This triangle icon was repeated on the base of the daemons huge polearm, the head of which was topped with a great blade of what looked like pure Warpstone.

As the Verminlord swept it's Doom Glaive through the air, a trail of sickly green mist followed it, the very essence of the weapon a promise of death an decay.


OOC - I know some of you made intended actions but you are all transfixed by fear momentarily, and can now change or repeat those intended actions. This is going to be epic, you will have to work together, and expect multiple deaths, be they NPC's or Player Characters, your roleplaying skillz will decide. (NPC's will be joining in shortly)
:twisted:


Tue Aug 14, 2012 8:42 pm
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Caraoc had the fear growing in his mind and his whole body like he had never felt before. That thing coming towards them was terror made alive.
At the same time, he could discern a growing magic presence. That thing coming out was full of it. Caraoc knew at once that the puny tricks he had learned to perform, his dance of the rain and the like, were laughable compared to the mighty power associated with that this thing. No wonder that the group's earlier spells had been flattened so hard.

Then the thing came out. A giant horned rat? Caraoc wished to be able not to believe his eyes, but his arcane senses provided an unwelcome confirmation.
What was that? Caraoc wanted to refuse his guess, but he knew the dreadful answer.
It was not something mortal. It was actually nothing less than a daemon rat summoned by the Skaven.

The fear nearly submerged Caraoc. His talent for evasion resulted in a strong voice in his mind, which shouted him to escape by the nearest door, just next to him - quick!
Caraoc turned on his heels... and saw Casaythe behind him, looking the wrong way. No! he could not betray his comrade, the group, and a possible newfound love.
"Look at -gulp!- that, mate" was all he could say, as he shook franctically Casaythe's shoulder.

Then Caraoc looked again at the scary thing, breathing heavily but still thinking.
It was huge, incredibly large. Such small weapon as a repeater handbow would barely scratch its skin.
Reversely, that thing had teeth as large as axes and spines all over the body.
The most dangerous weapon seemed to be a huge polearm, which was litterally irradiating magic, stinking magic.
No doubt that it would be able to cast some nasty spell at the group, too.
Chances were that it would be totally immune to the group's mundane weapons.
I cannot pierce its magic defenses. But I can help the group to pierce its skin!

Caraoc's decision was taken.
Romantic songs were out. Time for a real war song.
He had to help the group, allowing their mundane attacks to become magic and able to wound the daemon with a better efficiency.
Even if the spell was countered by the daemonic rat, that thing might not be able to counter two spellcasters simultaneously, Elysian would get his chance.
Fortunately, the battle scene was still under the star's light. Good omen for Caraoc.
The song will encourage the group, and it will set the star's magic dust on each of the group's weapons.

"...Rage in the wind at the triumph for my magic steel
You will taste the blade of the magic sword... and
Rage in the wind at the triumph for my magic steel
Dead, laments and unholy sorrow
The heads of the fallen are staining the snow
May this be the last hated cruel war
I'm looking at my skies but they answer: no!
So thunder and storm, the rage of the sword
The fury of my war
The axe of warriors, the blood on the stone
The scream for the eternal..."


Casting a spell in order to make all the group's weapons become magic, hitting better across the daemon's magic defenses.
In case of a direct hit at him, Caraoc will "Evade" to next door.

Unless Elysian suggests anything better.

OOC: Rhapsody, Triumph For My Magic Steel
http://www.lyrics007.com/Rhapsody%20Lyr ... yrics.html
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xp5VLMyKQ08

__________________
Caraoc the pilot - WS3 S4 T2 D5 I5
Equipment: staff, short bow (11/20), repeater handbow (11/20), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: - Mount: -
Gold: 100
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

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Tue Aug 14, 2012 11:07 pm
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Phalx felt it, and by seeing the mages shift knew something was coming. He involuntarily took a step back. What fresh madness was coming. Large red eyes appeared above the lesser ratmen. His mind went to the hulking ogre rats, but no, it felt like something much worse. The Shade, who had fought down demons, the dead, orcs, and countless over foes, took another step back. What in all the bloody darkness?

It was huge, and stank of Chaos. He looked over its incredible form that screamed raw power, seeing waves of that mad energy that mark it out as a demon. What the bloody hell was it? The huge green glowing glaive, left a trail of crackling energy as it was swept through the air in front of it. Here was an avatar of death. Phalx had seen such great beings fight, remembering the battling Demon Prince of another of his mad dances of death. What could they do to face such a thing? This was a task surely beyond them.

The new finger waggler, Caraoc or something, was muttering something. The rest, including the mad shade were frozen in place. He wanted a drink, by the piss of the Witch King he needed a drink. He took another step back. Balls to it he was scared, he was a warrior, a very accomplished Shade to be true, but this? Deathspitter shook in his hands.

None of the others were running though, and he was Phalx Tr'dasr, he'd be thrice damned if he would run where over didn't. He ignored that voice that screamed to run, that logical part of him that wanted to live. He let his mad side take grip, a low dark cackle escaping his lips. His eyes rolled as Deathspitter stopped shaking. He was death he was the fast flying bolt, he was Phalx the mad shade who danced with death for the fun of it. He gave another mad laugh, not caring what the other thought of him. The little voice of logic finally said, gods I need a drink, and fell silent.

The song was louder now, and the others were stirring from their fear, to battle it was then.

Phalx will fire Deathspitter, still aiming for the lesser rat men around their hellish lord. He'll leave the task of face the horrid brute directly to his fellows, his goal is to thin the enemy ranks.

OOC: To battle it is then!!! Glory to the victors

_________________
Phalx Tr'dasr – WS5 / S4 / T4 / D5 / I4
Equipment: Deathspitter (5/20) 4 of these poisoned (1/2x QD, 3xSD), short sword, dagger, punching dagger (Bloodthirst Rune), shade cloak, full leather armour
Inventory: thieves tools, torches x3, healing balms x5, rope and grapple, Vikarh map, dice, winter gear, orc tusk,
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 5829
Skills: Basic Stealth, Precision Fire, Basic Ride, Frenzy, Ambidexterity,Suithenlu Khythan (1): SP2
Class: Shade
Check out, http://thingsfrom1934.com/


Wed Aug 15, 2012 8:20 am
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The glow of green, tainted balefire preceded the abominatrion's emergence; like the others Vryala could but stand transfixed in terror as it issued a mighty challenge. The Verminlord towered above the Druchii, brandishing its unholy weapon, enboldening the smaller vermin that swarmed around him. After surviving the attacks of Black's Manticore and the wild Hydra, V had hoped never to encounter a beast of such magnitude again, let alone one infused with forbidden power. By Khaine, what can one do against such blasphemy?

To her surprise, the Corsair wizard started singing behind her, which in turn prompted Phalx to raise his crossbow and meet the blighter in combat. V knew this would be a futile effort, lacking the numbers and the weaponry to deal with their newest foe, and decided a rare but prudent retreat would be in order. Fall back! We're dead meat out here in the open. Make for the buildings!

V tosses a smoke grenade to prevent the Skaven clanrats from tying up the group, then scrambles to find a better position (hopefully accompanied by her allies).

_________________
Vryala Naïlo - WS5 / S5 / T5 / D5 / I4

Equipment: bastard sword of Speed, shield of Defence, repeater (20/20), spear, mace, dagger, Armour of Night, SDC, whip, blowpipe (9/12)
Inventory: amulet of Strength, grapple, grenade x0, smoke x11, map, mage hand, sleep oil x8, cure balms x20, Yori's balms x1, winter gear, old kit, lion mask
Mount: Dark Steed (Blanky), barding, talisman of Protection
Gold: 1735
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Anarin Sarath (2), Basic Ride
Class: Warrior


Wed Aug 15, 2012 9:44 am
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Phalx heard Vryala's words, and despite the madness that was falling over him, he was surprised by the warriors words very unlike her. He gave another mad little chuckle. For a moment the saner side of him pressed forward, and it agreed. Phalx though had another idea. He gave another low mad whisper of a laugh, as he moved further into the shadows. He was a shade cloaked in darkness, never one to face such a foe head on. He stifled his madness, as he planned his scheme, hoping it would pay off.

Phalx will find the deepest shadow he can out of the Verminlords direct path, and hide. Hoping it will follow the rest of the group he will remain hidden. Once it passes he will follow, killing its ratman followers as he goes, whilst staying hidden, linking up with the group again from an unseen and deadly angle.

_________________
Phalx Tr'dasr – WS5 / S4 / T4 / D5 / I4
Equipment: Deathspitter (5/20) 4 of these poisoned (1/2x QD, 3xSD), short sword, dagger, punching dagger (Bloodthirst Rune), shade cloak, full leather armour
Inventory: thieves tools, torches x3, healing balms x5, rope and grapple, Vikarh map, dice, winter gear, orc tusk,
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 5829
Skills: Basic Stealth, Precision Fire, Basic Ride, Frenzy, Ambidexterity,Suithenlu Khythan (1): SP2
Class: Shade
Check out, http://thingsfrom1934.com/


Wed Aug 15, 2012 10:28 am
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Casaythe was focussed on the street behind. He would hear the odd chittering rattle of vermin-tongue, scuttling claws on the stone cobbles. Each time, he would turn with glaive at the ready, expecting the cunning ratmen to ambush the group whilst their attention was elsewhere. Concentrating... watching... "Look at... that, mate"

'Not now Caraoc, can't you see I'm busy?' he grumbled in reply, thinking his friend had seen another lass that had caught his eye. Caraoc tugged on his shoulder, and with an irritated sigh, he turned around. 'What is i.....'

His sentence was cut short and his eyes widened in alarm at the beast that had emerged from the sewers. Towering above them, it radiated an aura of power. 'Kraken's scaly arse, what's that?' he exclaimed, taking a few slow steps backwards. He was rather glad that he had been to the latrine earlier, as the beast sent a shiver through his body that was akin to being on board a vessel during the worst of roiling seas. The monster had filled him with fear, but he was not keen for his new companions to see this. Putting on a grim look of determination, he crouched as he retreated, the tip of his glaive aimed towards the enormous horned abomination.

Caraoc began one of his songs whilst Phalx laughed like a madman and dashed forwards. As far as Casaythe was concerned, the shade was a madman. "Throwing yourself to a quick death won't help the rest of us." he thought.

Vryala called them back, suggesting they make for the buildings. Casaythe wondered what the use of that would be. They would be hunted down one by one on their own. 'No... no, we need a plan. Alone, our squeaky friend will rip us to bits. What's the best way to kill a rat, hmm? Set a trap.'

He looked back at his companions, wondering what their reaction would be. If they could trap the monster, and disable it somehow... it might be easier to kill.

Wants to work with the others to set a rat trap and lure the daemonic rat beastie somehow. Stepping back slowly, keeping a careful watch of his surroundings.

_________________
Casaythe Blackstorm - Warrior (Corsair) - Group 22
Skills: Awareness, Endurance
Equipment: Short Sword, Glaive, Medium Armour, Sea Dragon Cloak, Repeater Crossbow, clip of bolts [11/20], 405 gold, Talisman of Darkness, Tool Kit, 2 months' rations
Stats: WS4, S4, T5, D3, I4

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Wed Aug 15, 2012 5:49 pm
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Prophet of Tzeentch
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What would it be? Elysian wondered as he kept his eyes fixed on a landscape overlaid by the fickle winds of magic. There had been no lack of enemy mages recently; this one couldn't possibly be worse than Kirathi, afterall what could these vermin offer that was more dangerous than the convents? Then he saw it.

The thing was huge, larger even than the rat ogres and unlike them a terrible intellect shone in its malevolent eyes. It was not the physicality of the beast that most troubled Elysian though but the raw stench of power it gave off. Where it walked the winds raged and Qyish was nowhere to be seen. The reek of daemon flesh mixed with the familiar stink of the sewers and the musk of Skaven terrified by their own master. This was the master and not the hound of that Elysian was certain, if for no other reason than that no one could hope to control such a fiend save perhaps the witch king himself.

The mage stood frozen for what seemed like a painfully long time, his intention to shower the oncoming threat with bolts forgotten in a primal panic which threatened to send him screaming away from a force that both heart and head said was beyond him. This voice was glad when Vryala called for them to... fall back. Ah fall back, it sounded so much nicer than run away. One of the corsairs was babbling about the need for a plan, a trap. That was all well and good but Elysian hadn't packed a giant piece of cheese.
"You have to live to set a trap, unless you can design, implement and spring one in the next 20 seconds we are all getting cut in half if we just stand here."
With that Elysian showed his support for Vryala’s plan by making from the nearest building offering adequate cover.

Running with Vryala.

OOC: Seriously Kinslayer, a Verminlord!? What's next a Slaan on a Dragon?

Be careful what you wish for :lol:

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Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.

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Wed Aug 15, 2012 6:59 pm
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The Verminlord stomped forwards and swept its' glaive through the air, uttering a chittering roar that shook the very floor they were standing on. The group had scant seconds to react and move before the daemon finished it's war cry and continued it's approach. Phalx considered hurling himself forwards and peppering the ratmen that swarmed after the daemon with bolts, but it was the firm words Vryala shouted beside him that gave him pause. Fall back? The Shade, nor indeed any other member of the group, could recall the last time the Warrior had given that order, if indeed she ever had. Fiat and Karonath, Vryalas' oldest companions and most trusted friends, looked sidelong at her as if to ensure she really had just called the retreat. Vryala was already falling back.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The ground began to shake as the Greater Daemon thundered forwards, being crushed beneath its' feet as much a threat as being impaled upon it's horns or gnawed between its' teeth. To be torn asunder by the Doom Glaive it wielded was not even worth thinking about, a death too horrible to imagine, let alone one to consider. The group were routed, either by the terrifying visage that was the Verminlord, or by the desperate call from Vryala that told them not to waste their lives in such a hopeless stand of defiance. The Daemon Princes' they had met before were vastly intelligent beings, and despite this Greater Daemons' more beast like appearance, it seemed to understand their dread. Indeed, it almost seemed to find it amusing, a low rumble in it's throat that could perhaps be likened to laughter.



When Vryala went into full flight, tossing a smoke bomb over her head as she span around, Fiat, Karonath and Saldrimek went with her. Seeing the more combat orientated members of the group turn to flee, Elysian, Caraoc and even Phalx felt the need to run with them. Casaythe was already backing away, the rest of the Warriors now running past his position as he crouched and suggested perhaps trapping the beast. Quite what he had in mind they did not know, but he would have to explain fast as the Daemon was coming straight towards him. Phalx made for the cover of the shadows below a building, as Caraoc and Elysian turned about and joined the others in flight. The Astromancer still had a song of magic upon his lips, trying to enchant the mundane weapons of his allies with magic. Their blades started to shimmer slightly, perhaps a successful casting, or perhaps just evidence that the Verminlord had turned it's attention not to dispelling, but to casting a spell of it's own.

Phalx dove headfirst into a shadowy alcove on the side of a building, half hidden from view behind a stack of crates he had just vaulted, completely clouded in shade. Only after turning back around to see the back of his comrades as they fled down the road did he perhaps regret his decision to stay behind. The Verminlord stomped closer, and just as it neared his position it stopped and raised one of it's clawed paws to the air. For a moment, Phalx thought the Daemon could smell him, and senses his doom approaching. He clenched Deathspitter tight and aimed at the Skaven that scurried around the feet of their avatar sniffing at the blinding smoke, deciding that if he was to die he would take as many of the ratmen down with him as he could. He started to pick them off, putting bolts into heads and bodies.

But the Verminlord did not turn to kill him, instead it kept it's attention on the retreating group. A nimbus of green energy formed around it's palm.


Vryala, -1 smoke bomb


Wed Aug 15, 2012 7:26 pm
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OOC: Oh sweet Witch King, never have I feared for Phalx more then now.

IC: The other ran, following their sort of leader in flight. A little bit of madness was upon our wild Shade however. Phalx dove to the side, seeking the comforting cloak of darkness offered by a crate filled alcove. His cloak followed behind him, as he assessed his next move. He saw the back of his comrades running away. Rats were heading towards them, and towering above them all was the thing, the vermin king or whatever it was. Its tred caused the ground to quake, cracking stones beneath its clawed feet. It was coming closer. Was it coming for him?

Any last flakes of madness left, as screaming reality flooded back to him. He wanted to live, he wanted to live by all the dark hells! Could it smell him, could it sense him, cowering in the darkness. Little Skaven, cowards and weakling, prowled strong and fierce around the feet of their cruel master, or whatever it was. They moved fro the smoke Vryala had lain, as there cruel lord raised his hand, was this it?

Meeting Vash'nir on the road to Virkarh, the twins, the Realm of Chaos, the High Elves, the Undead, his capture so many years ago by the beastmen, it all flashed in his minds eyes. It past though, this wasn't it. The Vermin demon was doing something else.

Phalx hadn't realized he was firing Deathspitter. Ratmen fell bolts piercing their beady eyes and chests. Their comrades didn't care, rushing over their bodies as its leader did whatever it was doing. He needed to move, he couldn't survive here. He looked all around the cold war torn city, or what he could see of it in this alcove. He looked up and saw a route to salvation.

As quickly as he can, Phalx will throw his grappling hook, up onto the edge of the building roof he is by. He will climb this up to relative safety. (he hopes) From there he will follow the rest of the groups progress, taking shots at Skaven whenever he can to aid them and himself.

_________________
Phalx Tr'dasr – WS5 / S4 / T4 / D5 / I4
Equipment: Deathspitter (5/20) 4 of these poisoned (1/2x QD, 3xSD), short sword, dagger, punching dagger (Bloodthirst Rune), shade cloak, full leather armour
Inventory: thieves tools, torches x3, healing balms x5, rope and grapple, Vikarh map, dice, winter gear, orc tusk,
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 5829
Skills: Basic Stealth, Precision Fire, Basic Ride, Frenzy, Ambidexterity,Suithenlu Khythan (1): SP2
Class: Shade
Check out, http://thingsfrom1934.com/


Wed Aug 15, 2012 8:11 pm
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"A trap?"
As he was running with the group, Caraoc recalled how the snow melted by the Skaven flaming machine had frozen again and created plaques of slippery ice - with some greenish hue. Something he had kept in mind (<OOC: my post Mon Aug 13, 2012 10:20 am>). Just past the destroyed Skaven flamethrower, the midst of the street was covered with large ice plaques made of the melted snow, that had frozen again. Nothing magic about that, so it wouldn't be dispelled.
"Trap's ready. The ice plaques. Watch out!"

Talking about watching out, Caraoc could feel the raise of an unholy magic tide in his back.
Instinctively, he looked behind.
The mighty beast was not following the group, good news.
The mighty daemon was casting a spell, bad news.

"Beware of its spell!"
As the tide of the magic rose abruptly, Caraoc evaded as he was trained to, and jumped into the nearest empty door and rolled inside.
Caraoc's body grouped compactly inside his sea dragon cloak, making a living ball which would be more resistant to anything blasting the area.

Similarly, Caraoc's mind made a mental sphere of its own, in order to resist hard the incoming magic blast.
Call the seventh star - that's what it takes to resist.
What followed was only rumbling, rattling, belching...
"...i'm breaking out; the devil - he tempts me; the world - beckons me; the flesh - condemns me; they want to take me out;
you try to hold us down; you try to hold us back; you try to tempt us down the wide path; you try to hold us down; you try to hold us back; you try to stir doubt in our heart;
but we're breaking out; and we're breaking free; from the chains that once imprisoned us; but we're breaking out; and we're breaking free; no power of death over us"


Fleeing past the flame thrower. Resisting the spell. Sheltering inside a doorway.
The following intention, once the Verminlord's spell has past the group, is to draw out the repeater handbow (hopefully still magically enhanced) and to pepper out the beast if it falls down on the ice.

OOC: Seventh Star - Resistance to Resistance
http://www.lyricstime.com/seventh-star- ... yrics.html
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nf7sxDppkcA
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Caraoc the pilot - WS3 S4 T2 D5 I5
Equipment: staff, short bow (11/20), repeater handbow (11/20), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: - Mount: -
Gold: 100
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

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Wed Aug 15, 2012 8:20 pm
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Vryala skid into an alleyway, the others hot on her heels taking cover in similar spots. The mutant beast pursued them with an almost casual stride, as the smaller minions around him still jumbled about in the smoke. A quick headcount revealed Phalx was missing. For Khaine's mercy, has he let himself get swamped after all? Swallowing a growl of frustration, she caught the Corsairs' plan of using the ice sheets to their advantage. Doesn't sound like it'd do a lot of good, but it's more than I can come up with...

As it stood, V still had a Shade to bail out, and realized she needed to get a better overview of the situation. Unwinding the grapple at her side, the curtly stated her intent to the others.

Up to the rooftops, to spot that blasted Phalx.

_________________
Vryala Naïlo - WS5 / S5 / T5 / D5 / I4

Equipment: bastard sword of Speed, shield of Defence, repeater (20/20), spear, mace, dagger, Armour of Night, SDC, whip, blowpipe (9/12)
Inventory: amulet of Strength, grapple, grenade x0, smoke x11, map, mage hand, sleep oil x8, cure balms x20, Yori's balms x1, winter gear, old kit, lion mask
Mount: Dark Steed (Blanky), barding, talisman of Protection
Gold: 1735
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Anarin Sarath (2), Basic Ride
Class: Warrior


Wed Aug 15, 2012 9:31 pm
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"Think... think... think..!" his brow furrowed as his slow retreat turned into a full scale run. The horned brute was following them, and Casaythe got the impression that the terrible creature was amused by the chase.

'Not bad, Caroac...' he replied, his armour rattling as he dashed through the town. 'Is it right that those things like warpstone?' he panted. 'What if we led it to that war engine that spat green fire at us... I'm sure I saw a couple of those fleabags loading green stone into it...' he paused as he raced around a corner 'It looked like it was going to blow up before your little avalanche... if we could make it explode as that bastard got to it...'

Caroac jumped into a building and disappeared. The thundering footsteps and looming shadow behind him suggested that Casaythe had best do the same. As he turned another corner, he was running so fast his boots skidded. Using the shaft of his glaive to steady himself, he found a nearby doorway and hurried inside. Holding his breath he was as quiet as possible. The sound of his pulse pounding in his ears nearly matched the shuddering steps of the Skaven's champion.

Where was a bolt thrower when you needed one?

Hiding.

_________________
Casaythe Blackstorm - Warrior (Corsair) - Group 22
Skills: Awareness, Endurance
Equipment: Short Sword, Glaive, Medium Armour, Sea Dragon Cloak, Repeater Crossbow, clip of bolts [11/20], 405 gold, Talisman of Darkness, Tool Kit, 2 months' rations
Stats: WS4, S4, T5, D3, I4

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Thu Aug 16, 2012 7:22 am
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Elysian's mind raced faster than his feet, scrambling for an answer. There had to be some way to win, some way to beat this thing. Unfortunately all the ways he could think of included things he didn't have, like a dragon, or half a dozen dwarf cannons. With what they had on hand he just couldn't see a way. Oh they had a few magical weapons, Bloodfeather in particular was a marvellous sword, the budding smith in Elysian ached to examine it but somehow he never quite mustered the nerve to bring it up with Karonath. The fact was though that even the enchanted Draich would only cut the fiend down if their murderous heroine was three times her normal size, that kind of magic was well beyond him.

The pulsing ether was roiling, the verminlord's very presence shattering whatever order was left in the winds. That didn't stop it from casting spells though judging from its behaviour. This kind of magic was foreign to Elysian but there was definitely something building and he would bet everything he had ever stolen and everything he ever would that it would not be pleasant. It was unlikely he could dispel it, almost as unlikely he could even block it. Maybe he could try something a little more elegant. Chanting under his breath Elysian began work on an intricate spell, projecting a sense of his essence and magic into an outside form, something that could be destroyed while leaving him unharmed.

Elysian will try to make a kind of familiar. The idea is to create a sort of lightening rod to attract the Verminlord's spell.

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Fri Aug 17, 2012 4:28 pm
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Despite Vryala trying to call the group into an ordered retreat, they were scattered like the eight winds as they scrambled away over the destroyed weapons emplacements and bolted down the road beyond. Phalx stayed back, hiding in the shadows as the Verminlord passed him, and then throwing his grappling hook up onto the building he was sheltering beneath. Further up the road, Vryala moved for cover on the left side of the road as well, and upon realizing Phalx had been left behind she too threw her grappling hook up to a third storey window ledge. Whether she would have time to climb the rope or not remained to be seen, everyone else scattering as the Verminlord stopped where the weapons teams had been destroyed and raised it's clawed paw, a nimbus of green energy forming at it's command.

Caraoc literally threw himself into a doorway on the right. Leaping off the snow mound the warpfire thrower had been behind and spotting where he would hide before he landed, he sprinted the short distance and vaulted a fallen barrel, turning himself into a ball of scales in the air as he tucked himself into his sea dragon cloak. The Astromancer rolled into the opening, bouncing hard off the wall of the corridor within and bruising his shoulder, but not thinking about the pain. His mind was already concentrated on the spell he was trying to bring up, a mental shield that would hopefully stop whatever the Verminlord was about to unleash from affecting him.

Elysian went to the right as well, finding a deep shadow within which to mask himself and disappear from sight. There he too cast another spell, pulling on the fleeting tendrils of Ulgu wind to create a magical mimic of himself, standing out in the open not far from his actual position. As he concentrated quickly on bringing the spell about he felt his energy draining, he was casting spells in quick succession and the Verminlord had an oppressing presence in the aether. He guessed Caraoc was experiencing the same thing, and indeed the Azyr Mage too was finding it difficult to hold a spell in place. Still, at the Shadowmancers bidding a flickering shadow of himself appeared in the street.

Casaythe ran the farthest, skidding around the areas of smooth ice as he shouted his idea to Caraoc and the others, but realizing there was no time to do anything but hide. His friend had already launched himself through a doorway, and the Warrior took the hint and did one more turn around the rubble strewn around before heading for the nearest doorway on the left. It was a small wooden door, the building a run down house with boarded up windows on the lower level. He tried the door but found it was locked, and risked a glance back over his shoulder. The last three members of the group were still running for cover, and Elysian had stopped and was standing out in the open. What did he hope to achieve, a counter-spell? The Verminlord was about to cast, and Casaythe did not wait about to see if the Mage was successful. He swung his glaive through the wooden door and kicked his way inside, just in time to hear the crackle of eldritch lightning on his heels.



Everything seemed to flash a brilliant white-green for a moment, as a crack of thunder sounded not from the heavens above but from the very street around them. The Verminlord thrust out its clawed hand and a multitude of dark green bolts stormed into existence. The warped lightning danced from the Daemons' outstretched paw and thundered through the air like reaper bolts fired from one of the Cities' great warmachines. Only these bolts were not solid iron, but raw power made manifest. Where the bolts struck, green light flared and foul electricity sparkled, before a cloud of sickly coloured smoke billowed upwards into the air. Here a bolt incinerated a barrel, there one struck snow and turned it to crystallized green ice. Other bolts struck doors, walls, great lumps of fallen masonry. Warp lightning crackled across the structures, but it was not these near misses the group had to worry about.

Phalx had made it up to a balcony, his skill at ascending a small building well practiced and spurred on by the promise of a magic induced death. It was from this vantage point that he saw the rest of the group as the bolts of warp lightning struck, his mind slowing the events that passed in a mere moment so that he could take everything in. As he watched, a bolt lanced for Vryala as she struggled to bring her bulk up a rope as quickly as the nimble Shade had. The bolt hit the wall beside her, but it cascaded into numerous leaping charges, some of which were drawn to her metal armour. Green sparks flared across her body, and she roared in pain as she lost her grip on the rope, slamming onto her back in the snow ten feet below. She was bruised and burned, but seemed to be moving still. Phalx could not say the same for all that he saw.

On the other side of the road, Caraoc had barely made it into a doorway when two bolts slammed into the wall, one beside the door and the other just above it. They sent green lightning crawling across the doorway for a moment, but none seemed to venture inside, perhaps because the Mage was holding them at bay. Just outside however, Elysian was standing out in the open, seemingly frozen with fear or concentrating on a spell. Phalx had never fully trusted the finger wiggler, but as he watched a bolt of green lightning tear him asunder he felt something, some pain at the loss, the death of a comrade in arms. Elysian was consumed by the green lightning and reduced to nothing but a wisp of smoke. He didn't even scream.

Casaythe had made it to the relative safety of one of the buildings further up the row below Phalx, and the Shade couldn't be sure but assumed the bolts did not slay the Corsair. Those that carried past the weapon teams' emplacements seemed to be aimed at the three mercenaries still running there; Fiat, Saldrimek and Karonath. He watched as a bolt caught Karonath on the heel and sent her sprawling into a pile of crates, green lightning forking across her golden armour and magical sword. The Khainite cried out and balled up on the floor amidst the splintered wood, the magic leaving a trail of black scorch marks on her armour.

Simultaneously, a trio of the eldritch bolts slammed into Fiat and Saldrimek, the two warriors still a few paces away from the statue they were heading for. Both of them were slowed with injuries sustained earlier in the battle, and now they suffered for it tenfold. A bolt caught the Warrior clean in the back, and sent him tumbling over the fallen statue in a ball of green balefire and crackling bolts. The second only glanced Saldrimek, but it still caused lightning to dance across his helmet and pushed him sideways into the path of the next bolt. He half turned as he stumbled, and the final bolt of foul magic energy caught him square in the chest. It knocked him from his feet, and left him on his back with a smoking crater in his breastplate. Neither Fiat or Saldrimek moved once they hit the floor, and Phalx could not be sure if either of them had survived the hits.



As he watched, dozens of Skaven ratmen scurried forth at their Daemonic Masters' command, spreading out in a tide of vermin to finish the group before they could recover.

The Verminlord took another step forwards, coming parallel with where V was on her back in the snow to the left, and where Caraoc hid in a doorway to the right.

The ground trembled, and so did Phalx.


OOC - Hope you don't mind me using Phalx's point of view for this one, but he had the best vantage point. Casaythe, Caraoc and Elysian did not take a hit (Elysians' familiar was destroyed)


Fri Aug 17, 2012 10:12 pm
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All dark. All still.
Caraoc was snuggling inside a house entrance. His curled up body made a carapace.
In his shelter, everything was dark and still. Only his heartbeats could be perceived.

Caraoc had created also a mind carapace.
His arcane perceptions were vague, but did allow him to "see" two spiky bolts of greenish unholy energy lurking around towards him.
Resist! Please, by Hekarti's cloak of stars, resist!
After a moment, a second, an eternity, the aggressive energy faded out.
Fortunately. Caraoc's magic defenses seemed exhausted by now.
Even a sturdy warrior would have been left in terrible shape, had him been caught.

Caraoc was alone.
Casaythe and himself had believed to join a group of mercenaries, but the goup existed no longer.
These mercenaries were good for bragging in taverns, but they vanished at the first real danger. They did not even try anything.

Then the ground trembled. Heavy steps approaching.
No, Caraoc was not alone.

He rose and went further inside the building.
Soon, he reached a ladder. Instinctively, he climbed to the upper floor.
He realized that his shoulder had been bruised for some reason, but the pain was bearable as he pulled the ladder near him.

The heavy steps stopped in vicinity.
Caraoc remained silent and still. Not even singing in his head. Would the beast ignore him?

Then Caraoc recalled the provision of warpstone they had left with the broken Skaven flamethrower, a few feet from where he had taken refuge.
The beast will strive for the warpstone.
The load of flamethrower ammunition had been once on the verge of exploding.
Would it be possible to make it blast near the mighty beast?
Caraoc started to think about an eventual lightning falling appropriately at the right place at the right moment.
However, his powers seemed extinguished by now. Not enough energy for even a match.

The best seemed to wait.
Looking at the window roughly closed by broken planks, Caraoc rested and listened.
Time to resource himself and to regain some mental concentration.

Hiding in the building's floor. Regaining concentration.

__________________
Caraoc the pilot - WS3 S4 T2 D5 I5
Equipment: staff, short bow (11/20), repeater handbow (11/20), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: - Mount: -
Gold: 100
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

_________________
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Sat Aug 18, 2012 9:02 am
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"Cursed deep!", the door was locked fast. Casaythe rattled the latch and barged the wood with his shoulder as the vermin lord came closer. Aware that with every second that passed, his life was in greater danger, the corsair brought his glaive down against the wood with all his strength, then kicked the door in. Counting his luck, he raced inside.

He had seen the other vauvalka stood out in the open. He had also seen the rat champion's hand glow with a green tinted aura. Was the sorcerer powerful enough to withstand whatever the rat was about to throw out?

There was a bright flash, and the air about boomed and hissed as the horned rat unleashed its arcane bolt. As Casaythe's eyes adjusted from the light, he could make out forks of what he could only describe as lightning. Green lightening, dancing around the street. Now was not a good time to be caught out in the open wearing plate or chain mail.

The fearful beast was making a meal of the group they had only met, hours before. Casaythe sat beneath a window, his back against the wall. Rubbing his brow he thought about his options. Hide until the monster had gone? He owed nothing to Vikarh, nor to these strangers. But if he earned their trust, maybe... just maybe, his cause would be aided.

He hoped Caroac had heard his suggestion earlier. If the mage could send a bolt of lightning of his own at the right time... It was an enormous risk. If he did nothing, he was dead anyway.

He took a deep breath and hoped his luck would hold out. After his latest game of dice, fortune owed him a favour anyway. He stepped outside, and saw the beast stood above Vrayla, ready to strike. Around the street were wounded, dead, or dying. He didn't take the time to look at who was on the floor. Noting the position of the damaged flame gun, he began to make his way towards it, picking up a piece of rubble from the ground and throwing it at the deadly vermin lord.

'Hey! Fleabag, get your mangy arse away from her!'

He regretted it immediately.

Casaythe is taking a huge risk and is trying to attract the attention of the vermin lord. Hoping he doesn't get blasted to bits, and that one of the mages or the group can use the distraction to attack the oversized rat... or even blow it up by igniting the damaged war weapon once the rat gets close enough to it.

((OOC, let me know if this is too much and I'll redo my post ))

_________________
Casaythe Blackstorm - Warrior (Corsair) - Group 22
Skills: Awareness, Endurance
Equipment: Short Sword, Glaive, Medium Armour, Sea Dragon Cloak, Repeater Crossbow, clip of bolts [11/20], 405 gold, Talisman of Darkness, Tool Kit, 2 months' rations
Stats: WS4, S4, T5, D3, I4

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Sat Aug 18, 2012 7:23 pm
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The spell when it came was devastating in its power, though it lacked something in efficiency. Then again who needed efficiency when you had that kind of power at your fingertips? Oh sure there were elves who could match it, even better it.; but he was no Furion, and none of the warriors were Urion Poisenblade. On the subject of warriors Elysian grimaced in sympathy as Fiat, Saldrimek and Karonath all got blasted. He hoped they still lived, without their blades their chances went from poor to hopeless. Watching his own image being obliterated was very disturbing, but that was what he had made it for. Better an image of him than taking a lightning bolt to the chest himself.

The question was what to do now. They couldn't just cower here, the Verminlord would pick them off one by one and already the lesser ratmen were swarming forward like hounds before the huntsmen. They would flush the elves out, and their master would crush them at will. That wasn't a fate Elysian was willing to accept. The problem was that wrack his brains though he might he just couldn't think of anything to even the odds. Where was Black when you needed him? According to the others the elf had a manticore, he was supposed to be in charge of this sector. Maybe a manticore could rip apart the Verminlord, maybe not, but it would certainly help.

Suddenly the corsair, the non magical corsair, leapt out into the open. There was only one reason to do that, to draw the creature in, towards a trap. That was what the other mage had been babbling about as they all dashed for cover, the warmachines buried in the snow. It might not work, frankly Elysian didn't much rate it as a plan. It was a plan though and as Elysian didn't have one of his own it would do. They needed a way to set the machines off though; maybe the Azyr Vauvalka could manage a bolt of lightning but maybe not. Elysian had his own ways of blowing things up, subtler ways if less certain. He could do little but see if the daemon took their impromptu bait, if it did he would be ready.

On board with the trap plan in lieu of any others. If the Verminlord gets into a position to be affected by it he will use Chamon to try and blow stuff up.

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Sat Aug 18, 2012 9:46 pm
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Vryala resolutely padded against the alley wall, but her boots being slick with snow she could find little purchase and ascended at a somewhat regrettable pace. She hadn't seen the eldritch light in the Verminlord's palm, and the bolt that now blasted through the wall beside her took her completely by surprise. Up in that rope, she could not move to evade the arcs of lightning, and in horror took note that the magical charge was magnetically drawn to her armor. V screamed in pain as she was electrocuted.

She hit the ground hard, knocking the wind right out of her, soon followed by a cartload of snow that had come loose from the rooftop. Debris lay all around, chaos reigned and the chitter of rats grew ever closer and fiercer. With supreme effort, V bit though the pain and managed a somewhat upright position. She looked back down the alley; Dead end, she noted with a wry smile. In front, the abomination had just stepped into view. Well, no sense in holding back!

V stuffs her shield, reaching for her grenades yet again, to bombard that stinking Daemon back to Nastyville. If the small ones get close, they can get some nice fiery death as well.

_________________
Vryala Naïlo - WS5 / S5 / T5 / D5 / I4

Equipment: bastard sword of Speed, shield of Defence, repeater (20/20), spear, mace, dagger, Armour of Night, SDC, whip, blowpipe (9/12)
Inventory: amulet of Strength, grapple, grenade x0, smoke x11, map, mage hand, sleep oil x8, cure balms x20, Yori's balms x1, winter gear, old kit, lion mask
Mount: Dark Steed (Blanky), barding, talisman of Protection
Gold: 1735
Skills: Defensive Fighting, Anarin Sarath (2), Basic Ride
Class: Warrior


Sun Aug 19, 2012 1:38 am
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OOC: I think you find Phalx's point of view is always the best point of view.

IC: Phalx watched the battle, no, the bloody rush of the Skaven, like some hunting bird or mad god. Horrid magic flew this way and that, blasting his comrades old and new. The smaller Skaven gave a chittering cheer and rushed forward to finish off the weakened dark elves. The huge rat demon marched ever on, each step a deep thud that shook the Shades bones.

He was in the position he was hoping for. He checked Deathspitter again, the crossbow was ready. A perfect position, and deadly weapon, in the hands of a fierce (usually) Shade. He would do what he could for the rest of them. He fell into a crouch on the edge of the snow covered roof, flicking back the hood of his old tattered cloak as he took aim.

Phalx is aiming for the smaller Skaven rushing his comrades, using his height advantage to whittle down their numbers making it easier for the rest of the band.

_________________
Phalx Tr'dasr – WS5 / S4 / T4 / D5 / I4
Equipment: Deathspitter (5/20) 4 of these poisoned (1/2x QD, 3xSD), short sword, dagger, punching dagger (Bloodthirst Rune), shade cloak, full leather armour
Inventory: thieves tools, torches x3, healing balms x5, rope and grapple, Vikarh map, dice, winter gear, orc tusk,
Mount: Dark Steed
Gold: 5829
Skills: Basic Stealth, Precision Fire, Basic Ride, Frenzy, Ambidexterity,Suithenlu Khythan (1): SP2
Class: Shade
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Sun Aug 19, 2012 6:48 am
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OOC - Big posts are good Nightcall, the more I have to read the better. I forgot to mention as well, there is no limit to how many times you can post between modposts, and indeed I encourage it. Conversations and reactions to others' actions make for really good roleplaying! (As does getting your arses kicked by a Verminlord!)

I'll use your intended actions as a template for your moves in this next post, but I have a bit of time so this might end up being a big one...


IC -

The street was in chaos. The members of the group were scattered and alone, either hiding or wounded, some of them now getting back to their feet to try and stand against the Greater Daemon. Dozens of Skaven scurried towards them, brandishing rusted swords and splintered shields, some of them skidding across the patches of frozen ice, either tumbling into each other or falling onto Druchii blades. Amongst all the chaos and confusion, the mighty Verminlord stood in the middle of the road between Vryala and Caraoc, lifting it's magical Doom Glaive in challenge. One thing that occurred to all members of the group was that without help against this Daemon, they were likely all going to die.

Caraoc watched from behind the broken boards of a window, having moved up to the second level of the building he sheltered in to get a good view of the street. Opposite and further down the street, now behind the Verminlord, Phalx too had an equally good view from a third storey balcony. The rest of the group were on the ground, either in cover or doorways, or in the case of Saldrimek sprawled on the ground in the open. It was these members of the group the Skaven clanrats rushed towards, and as Caraoc tried to regain some concentration it was left to Phalx to help thin their ranks. The Shade opened fire with Deathspitter, shooting those Skaven that made easy targets of themselves by slipping on the ice, or firing a few shots at those that neared his comrades until he hit one. His crossbow clicked empty, but the Shade simply reloaded and fired again.

The Verminlord loomed over Vryala, standing over what was left of the Skaven weapon team emplacements and turning it's foul gaze upon the female Warrior as she hurled a fire bomb at an oncoming mass of it's lesser kin. Three Skaven disappeared in a shower of fire and limbs, and their Verminlord looked down and then across at Vryala, and snarled in rage. It was then however, just as V was drawing a handful more fire bombs, that Casaythe shouted down the street. The Corsair had run out into the open, and called to the Verminlord in an attempt to save his new acquaintances life. Vryala had no time to thank him, the Verminlord looking up again and leveling it's Doom Glaive at Casaythe. His challenge had been answered, and the Corsair found himself rooted to the spot.



Elysian saw all of this from the shadows across the road, also watching as Fiat and Karonath both clambered to their hands and knees, their armour scorched and their skin red raw with electrical burns. Saldrimek remained down on his back, his great axe laying a few feet away in the snow. The three warriors were in between the Verminlord and Casaythe, who had either bravely or foolishly gained the Greater Daemons attention. What the Mage also saw was Vryala readying another fire bomb, and a spike of iron jutting from the snow behind the Verminlords' heel where the warpfire thrower was buried. Despite his mind weakening and the Verminlord having a strong magical ward, Elysian plunged his mind into the aether again and drew upon the wind of Chamon. As long as the Daemon did not move, this might just work.

Vryala was surprised as the Verminlord looked away and leveled its' Glaive, but reacted instantly to the sudden advantage and hurled another two fire bombs before the creature could stomp away. She hadn't even registered that it was Casaythe distracting the beast until her first bomb impacted on the giant Rat-Daemons' flank. Fire washed over the brutal monster, and then a second wave as another bomb struck, and then a third. The fourth missed as the Daemon turned to face her again, but sailed past and hit a Skaven instead, incinerating the unlucky ratman where he stood. The fire seemed to have caused the Verminlord another distraction at least, if not great pain and perhaps even a wound. It was hard for Vryala to tell when the Greater Daemon was glaring at her and roaring in defiance.

Suddenly the broken remains of the warpfire thrower sprang out of the snow, bobbing in the air beside the Verminlord as though floating in water. The contraption was dripping oil but the fire that ravaged it had gone out, and as Elysian held the warmachine aloft with his mind he could only hope Vryala struck it with another fire bomb and caused it to explode. His mental control caused bolts and screws to tear away from the machine and slam into the Verminlord, but such minor injuries seemed below the Verminlords' attention. Elysian realized with a start that Vryala would not have time to throw again, the Verminlord suddenly stomping over to her and smashing it's glaive through the masonry behind which she had landed.



Vryala rolled to one side, seeing a dark shadow and a flash of green as the Verminlord was suddenly above her and then bringing it's weapon down. It took all her agility to escape the hit, and she heard the rock split behind her as the Doom Glaive tore through stone as easily as it did the snow on top of it. The huge, horned rat beast roared at her again, a disturbing sound more like the chittering of the rats than the deep roar of other wild monsters. The Verminlord turned as if to come for her again, but suddenly something struck it in the side like a cannonball. Elysian had hurled the broken warmachine at the Daemon as his magical strength at last left him, one last act of defiance that seemed to save the warriors' life.

The Verminlord stopped down and picked up the brass contraption with it's free hand, lifting the warpfire thrower up and looking at it quizzically, before looking around as if to spot the culprit. The heavy missile had left a tear in the Daemons' furry flank, but the foul skin seemed to reknit itself and close the wound as quickly as it arrived. The distraction however bought Vryala the time she needed to run, sprinting across the open ground towards the cover where Karonath had fallen up and across the road. As she ran Skaven tried to stab at her, but Phalx watched her go and dropped the little vermin with aimed shots from Deathspitter. Where the Shade did miss, Vryala battered the ratmen aside with her bulk and charged on, before hurling herself into cover beside Karonath.

The Verminlord still stood holding the ruined warmachine, and looked as though he were about to hurl it after the retreating warrior like an oversize bowling ball. Caraoc saw this from the window beside the Verminlord, and decided that no better opportunity was going to present itself than now. He had recovered his concentration as best he could, but even so he knew he was making a bold attempt at casting a destructive spell so quickly. The Verminlord brought the warpfire thrower up over it's shoulder, and Caraoc sang a few quick words of sorcery. At his command, the heavens above opened up for the briefest of moments, and a lightning bolt of pure white energy cascaded down and slammed into the warmachine, causing it to explode. There was a huge white flash and and even bigger Boom!, and everyone was momentarily deaf and blinded.



The resulting explosion knocked the Verminlord sideways into the buildings opposite, and the Greater Daemon hit them so hard that stone fell away from walls and everything shook violently. Phalx suddenly found the balcony beneath his feet lurch with the tremor, and he fell forwards and had to grab the edge of the railing for support. He cursed as Deathspitter fell from his grip, the magical crossbow plummeting down and landing in the soft snow on the ground below. The Shade could but hold on until the balcony became stable once again, but just as he released his grip on the balcony and looked down on the Verminlord as it righted itself, it's fur and skin still smouldering, one of it's horns blown off in the explosion, the balcony suddenly lurched again. The balcony fell away from the wall, before stopping just as suddenly as the iron railings stopped it and held it in place. Phalx looked down at the cracked stone beneath his feet, and realized just how precarious his position had suddenly become.

Across the street, the explosion just outside that had knocked the Daemon from its' feet had also reached the building where Caraoc had cast from, the Verminlord having been standing just outside. Explosive fire had blown a huge hole in the wall, and the Astromancer was showered with bricks and debris. The boarded window he had been watching from was no more, replaced by a gaping hole that put him in clear sight, but which also offered him a way to drop down onto what as left of the wall, and then onto the street outside if he so desired. He looked down on the street as he dusted himself off, his limbs feeling almost as drained as his mind, and saw that dozens of the little ratmen had been blown up too, and those few that remained were running back towards the sewer entrance in fear.

In the shadow beneath the building Caraoc was in, Elysian was thrown to the ground by the explosion, and was then cascaded by bricks and stones as the wall above was blown apart and he was showered with it's remains. The Shadowmancer had to force himself to his feet and break into a run up the road, just as the wall of the building came crashing down on his earlier position with another great earthquake like tremble. He moved onto the road and saw the rest of the group just ahead of him, seemingly recovering from the blinding flash and trying to regroup before the Verminlord stood up and came for them yet again. Vryala was helping Karonath to her feet, and Fiat had crawled over to Saldrimek and was checking the fallen Khainite. Saldrimek had been out cold, but as Fiat shook him he opened his eyes and gasped in a breath of air. He pulled himself up, despite the great wound in his chest, and reached out to reclaim his axe from the ground beside him.



Casaythe, Vryala, Fiat, Saldrimek and Karonath were left in the middle of the road in cover, Elysian running towards them. Caraoc was still in the building, and Phalx still on the balcony.


Behind them, a few dozen yards back where this narrow street began, the group could now hear Druchii voices and what sounded like sword blows echoing in the wind. Someone was coming.


With a roar of effort, Saldrimek lurched back to his feet beside Fiat, the Verminlord doing much the same thing down the road in front of them. The Khainites' eyes were alive with frenzy,

"Fall back! There are other elves back there, we need more numbers if this Daemon can withstand a hit like that!", he then called louder, "Phalx! Mage! Get out of there!"

What he said next surprised the rest of the group, turning back to look at Vryala as she helped Karonath stand, the Khainite only half conscious after the magical hit.

"Get her out of here, and the rest of them. Only you could lead them away. I will hold this Daemon here, I owe it an axe through the chest now anyway."


Phalx, -2 crossbow clip
Vryala, -5 fire bombs


Last edited by Kinslayer on Sun Aug 19, 2012 10:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Sun Aug 19, 2012 4:16 pm
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Corsair
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Joined: Fri Mar 14, 2008 10:00 pm
Posts: 8714
Location: Hag Graef
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Flashback.

Caraoc had been thinking about warpstone and lightning.
“I am waiting - On a mountaintop - For the moment that the sky will strike
My apologies - Are forever lost - Soon to ashes in a flash of light”


Looking at the window, a rhyme in his head, Caraoc had increased his concentration.
“My intentions - Like a sweeter room - Only bring to me a fading light”

Suddenly, he had heard his friend Casaythe calling 'Hey! Fleabag, get your mangy arse away from her!'
By the light of Aldebaran, this is not time for teasing such a beast!
Then Caraoc saw through the windows the Verminlord turning towards the entrance of the street. Bad for Casaythe.
Caraoc watched the beast, fearing about what would follow. The song boiled in his head.
“I look to the stars and ask why - If they could just show these wounds how to heal”

What went next was highly unexpected: the remains of the stone thrower were floating in the air near the Verminlord, who suddenly took it in his huge hand and placed it on its shoulder… right in front of Caraoc’s eyes.
“It's been raining - And now I will pay - Woe is come to me
I am the lightning rod”

The words had come out of his mouth without him giving a thought.
A lightning bolt of pure white energy stroke the warpstone recipient and caused it to explode in a huge blast, throwing bricks all around.

The house in which Caraoc was hiding was now widely gaping.
“I look to the stars and ask why - If they could just teach my dark heart to feel”

-=-=-

End of flashback.

Across the wide opening, Caraoc could now see a large part of the street.
The Verminlord had been pushed back down by the blast. Only wounded, unfortunately, and he was proceeding to stand up again.
Nearly above him, the Shade was desperately hanging at a broken balcony.
Towards the entrance of the street, Elysian was running away for his life.

Surprisingly, one of the mercenaries was now rushing alone towards the Mage and the giant rat - a Khainite of course.
A golden suicide opportunity for the glory of Khaine?

Caraoc had realized that the Verminlord would repel any spell cast directly at him. But magic could help indirectly, as the explosion had just shown.
Let’s help the Khainite’s weapons to cut deeper into the Vermin’s skin.
The group’s weapons had been highlighted with star light once. Time to lit them again.
“So thunder and storm, the rage of the sword
The fury of my war
The axe of warriors, the blood on the stone
The scream for the eternal..."

Caraoc took his own handbow, if nothing else to check that the star light would make the bolts shine again.

Casting again the spell to make all the group's weapons become magic, hitting better across the daemon's magic defenses.
Grabbing his handbow.


OOC: The Offspring - Lightning Rod
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qpk_tCqXxpY
Lyrics: http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/ ... E4001330E1

OOC: last verses from Rhapsody, Triumph For My Magic Steel, previously quoted.

__________________
Caraoc the pilot - WS3 S4 T2 D5 I5
Equipment: staff, short bow (11/20), repeater handbow (11/20), Sea Dragon Cloak,
Inventory: - Mount: -
Gold: 100
Skills: Power of Azyr (2), Evasion
Class: Mage (Astromancer)

_________________
Winds never stop blowing, Oceans are borderless. Get a ship and a crew, so the World will be ours! Today the World, tomorrow Nagg! {--|oBrotherhood of the Coast!o|--}


Sun Aug 19, 2012 8:38 pm
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Malekith's Personal Guard
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Joined: Wed Jan 25, 2012 8:16 pm
Posts: 844
Location: England
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He couldn't move. He tried to move his feet, but they wouldn't answer his will. Was it fear? No. He was sure it was more than that. As his pale eyes locked with those of the horned rat daemon, he felt an irresistible force binding him to the spot. "This is it..." he thought, gripping his glaive and lowering the point towards his foe bravely, "I'm going to die." He waited for the monster to bring down its enchanted glaive and cleave him in two.

But the blow never came. The corsair noticed something flung through the air and then the beast turned with a roar as one of Vryala's bombs exploded on its flank. Again and again the bombs were thrown, and soon the beast was awash with flames. It seemed to be standing well against its ordeal, and Casaythe thought this only made the vermin lord more terrifying than it already was.

He found he could move again, and slowly he stepped back as the beast was distracted. Astonished, he watched as one of the siege weapons slowly hovered into the air. At first, cogs and nuts, bolts and fixings pelted the monster. But then the whole thing drifted towards it. "Who's doing is this?" he wondered. In less stressful circumstances, the display might even have been amusing. With a sudden start, the engine slammed against the creature as it was about to reach for Vryala a second time. The daemon picked it up. Casaythe whispered with a desperate frown, "Caraoc if you're still alive... now would be the perfect time..."

A fork of lightning ripped down from the heavens igniting the engine, and causing a huge explosion. The force threw him backwards, yet he managed to keep his balance. "Thank all the gods above and below!" he thought, a huge relieved sigh escaping him as his vision and hearing were slowly restored, a whining in his ears.

The street was a mess. But to his dismay, the beast survived. It looked angrier than ever, one of its horns ripped off. "What would it take to kill a bastard like that?" he wondered.

At that very moment, the Khainite stepped forwards. Seriously injured, it seemed like he was going to make a last stand and attempt to slay the daemon whilst granting himself a death worthy of entry to Khaine's realm. "Get her out of here, and the rest of them. Only you could lead them away. I will hold this Daemon here, I owe it an axe through the chest now anyway."

Casaythe hardly knew the elf, but he had to respect his decision. He had guts. He just hoped they wouldn't be spilt all over the alley floor.

Watching what is going on, careful not to make things worse. If the rest of the group backs away he will join them. Otherwise he will join the fight.

_________________
Casaythe Blackstorm - Warrior (Corsair) - Group 22
Skills: Awareness, Endurance
Equipment: Short Sword, Glaive, Medium Armour, Sea Dragon Cloak, Repeater Crossbow, clip of bolts [11/20], 405 gold, Talisman of Darkness, Tool Kit, 2 months' rations
Stats: WS4, S4, T5, D3, I4

Mod, Group 38


Mon Aug 20, 2012 5:41 pm
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