Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: F13 -> F12 Action: Casting Spell (Shatter) Bonus Action: Bardic Inspiration (Marita) Reaction: N/A

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Victoria took some stock of her surroundings, as best she could from her spot crouching behind a barrel. The cover was extremely useful and gave her an okay vantage point for her odds and ends of Necromancy, but it held another interesting quality - it allowed her almost unrestricted views of her teammates at first. Form there, the Bard could hear their efforts to hack apart the wooden enclosures which held the captured townsfolk. This was punctuated every so often by the discharge of crackling black energy with which Cavendish peppered those he could see. Worse than this, he seemed to have approximated her trick of commanding a swarm of rats from the greater massing of the furry beasties to roll over Kathryn, nipping at her as she still tried to free the prisoners. To his credit, Cavendish's rats were still living. That wasn't a trick that she could accomplish.

But despite this relentless attack, the only one continuing to combat the Constable was Marita. Even Victoria herself was merely attempting to distract and provide him nagging difficulty. Then it dawned on the Bard - Only one person was fighting back. One. There was no point in playing a support role with her limited (and fast dwindling) arcane resources if there was no one to support, except for the other party member who was suited to a supporting role, herself.

Thinking back, Victoria's mind flashed to the smug and condescending Shadow Monk who berated her for getting into the thick of things in the Goblin fight a couple of days prior. There was a reason that she did what she did, and that reason was showing itself again. She gave a quick and quiet supplication to the gods with which she was most familiar; Wee Jas, Jergal, Libitina, the Elven god Naralis Alanor, and even stern, judgemental Kelemvor (though they had some fundamental differences in philosophy). The Lady of Ravens was given a nod in her thoughts as well. "I've often wondered which of you would claim me," she whispered. "Whomever does, please take me quickly and let me die well."

Victoria took up her sword and rose, stepping to her left to fully interpose the two upright barrels between herself and Cavendish. The presence of her preferred magic had already began to show on her face; the grey-black color of ancient bone pooling around her crystal blue eyes and spilling downward, as if darkened tears of one in profound mourning. She had accomplished this with cosmetics the night before. It came naturally now as her soul reached into the Weave to pluck and rearrange the flow of magic to assist her needs, and she dipped into the teachings of the Grey Requiem. What power Victoria had left, she intended to hurl at the wicked Constable.

Perhaps it was her sense of Neutral detachment that brought her to this decision. She didn't have any hard feelings for the prisoners, and in fact had bonded with little Lizbeth enough that she would do whatever she might to bring her aunt back to her. But the prisoners were absolutely not her priority right then. They could be saved at leisure (for the most part) after the factor which threatened them was eliminated. If the others were unwilling to to this, then the Bard would stand with Marita and pour her outrage upon Cavendish until nothing remained.

The first action the took was to address the Cleric. her voice cut across the battlefield with presence and clarity, demonstrating the force of her personality. "This thing is not a Constable any longer, Marita. It isn't even a Human anymore. Cavendish surrendered his humanity for power and contradicted every promise he made to this town to aid and defend its people. He betrayed the Law he swore to uphold and you are in exactly the right place, at the right time, to make him answer for this betrayal. Drop the hammer on this monster. We can beat him. I will help you."

Her second action was to sing. Vocalizations of scales at first, quickly becoming a more complex tune as it penetrated the ears of everyone around her. It seemed to echo for a moment, coming from the air around Cavendish, yet the echo sustained and grew louder as Victoria's voice became quiet. All at once, a splintering, cracking sound punctured the air, like a great glass bowl shattering upon a stone floor. Splits in Cavendish's skin opened in jagged formations and several (but not all) of the undead swarm of rats fell from him; a tradeoff made for the sake of hurting him.

Victoria was now exposed, and as such was a viable target who had just damaged this vindictive, magic-weilding Wererat. But even in this potentially foolish move, there was a glimmer of hope. For the first time in this fight, Cavendish stooped and took heaving breaths. He was hurt, and was finally showing clear signs of it.



Marita now has Bardic Inspiration (1d6).

@Remipa Awesome Kathryn is free to do stuff.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Guard 1

Location: ??

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I'm just a gigolo, everywhere I go
People know the part I'm playing
Paid for every dance, selling each romance
Oh, what they're saying?

And there will come a day, and youth will pass away
What will they say about me?
When the end comes, I know those were just a gigolo's
Life goes on without me

'Cause IIIIIIIIIIII ain't got nobody...

@Dragoknighte Marita's turn.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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The bubbles, cracks, and hisses of the pitch fires could be heard around the sharper sounds of weapon strikes and the sizzling volleys of magic. Other sounds seemed lessened by the importance of what was transpiring in this place which was so full of life just a couple of days prior, even if it carried an undercurrent of uncertainty.

The trees on either side of the fires stood in their own dark silence, with the exception of the one toward the left which was completely ablaze at this time. Going just a few feet into the vegetation made travel more difficult in comparison to the bright, open lighting of the town center proper, plus it gave the double-edged sword of effectively causing dim lighting conditions for anyone who stepped more than five feet into them. Luckily for all, the raging fires kept the area relatively warm still.

Cavendish was still swarmed with undead rats, as much as Kathryn was swarmed with live ones. This little detail didn't stop him from gritting his rodent-y teeth and trying to push through the grim distraction, intent to rationing out pain to those he deemed worthy of it. Maybe he'd try to drill eldritch holes in the ones who were fool enough to stay in his line of sight. Or maybe go after the most immediate threat. There was still a spiritual weapon nearby that made a move at him just a few seconds ago. Drop the Cleric, drop the spell. Oh, what lovely screams he would make them give in exchange.

The rightmost cage still only had one board missing, but not for the lack of trying on behalf of Daisy's efforts. The Halfling redoubled her efforts as best she could, emboldened by Kathryn moving to assist her to get her friends and neighbors out. Though it was difficult to see from the larger woman's angle, Daisy's face fell as she realized that Kat decided to go an undamaged portion of the cage, near clearly on the opposite side. Her borrowed sword clanged softly on the stones below as her already tired arm dropped when Kosara moved to the same place as her friend. Maybe they would do a better job. She hoped they would. But as they didn't seem to be doing any better than her, Daisy raised the sword once again and began hacking, be it weakly, on the wooden bar next to the space where they had already gotten one to pop off.

The lefthand cage met with a breakthrough, quite literally in this case. While Cecily maintained holding the elder, barely conscious Beppo upright, she could not help but continually glance back to the ongoing fray, particularly the actions and (to her) new changes to the erstwhile Constable. The others huddled in the cage as physically far away from the fire, and Cavendish, but also away from the continuing work upon the wooden bars. One couldn't call the corner they had left cozy, but densely occupied might have been appropriate. In any case, the breakthrough occurred when, upon seeing the progress that Baronfjord made with the wooden bar nearest him, switched his target and, with an affirming, "Mornin'!" as he drove his fishing rod into what remained of the Dragonborn's chosen bar, knocking it away from its moorings. It clattered to the ground below.

Wasting no time, Cecily did her best to get her human charge out of the more reasonably open aperture. Fully grown, Human-sized persons could now fit out, as Beppo demonstrated by making an unsteady egress right next to the Honey Barn performer, who was helping to keep him upright.

New Round

@Arty Fox Baronfjørd - You are good to go.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Cavendish

Location: A10

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Cavendish inwardly mused that this had to be the most obnoxious fight that he had ever been in, bar none. He was a former soldier, a Constable, and servant to eldritch powers. Yet for all of his history, this fight won the prize.

There was fire all around him. Fire and rats, screams, blood, and whatever was left of the hulking monstrosities that had just lost their ability to move about and smash things for him. And the screams - lest he forget about the whimpers and cries for help from the prisoners. This was all set up for a lovely end to an otherwise successful venture, even with these interlopers (and the Constable was pretty sure that he had done an excellent job throwing this little Going Away party). These things were expected. So they were obviously not what made this the most obnoxious fight that he had ever been in.

It was mostly that, after the magic and the fire, attacks upon his person and neutralization of allies on the battlefield, these people seemed to be intentionally ignoring him in favor of the rabble in the cages. This was curious. He demanded more respect as an adversary than this. "No, no, no. That's not how this works. No one gets their prize until after the game is over. Perhaps you forgot - I'm still playing."

Cavendish's face screwed into a wicked smile as he gathered magics into his free hand; crackling black energy which mirrored in his rattish eyes; the same pulsing, necrotic energy demonstrated when he let loose twin bolts of damaging energy just earlier. This time, his attention was diverted at the last moment with the feeling of weight pulling down at his trousers, and even odder, nips from tiny teeth. Annoying, but clearly not damaging. Still, prudence dictated that he spare a glance down. "What out of the Abyss is?" he started, realizing that undead rats were crawling up his clothing, gnawing irregularly at the flesh underneath. He could not tell from where this new development originated, even if the music might have been a clue, and wished to address that as soon as possible. But the spell was already in the middle of being cast, and so he had to complete it against his selected targets or risk it fizzling, at the best of possibilities. His vicious looking shortsword slapped at the miniature undead minions as they neared his tenderer bits, while he reached out to strike from afar with magic.

Twin blasts of black, crackling energy flew from his hand, aimed for the ones who still seemed to be interested in his presence, the Cleric and the Warlock. Perhaps their screams of agony would jolt the others out of their stupor. Unfortunately, the dead rats had done their job well enough that the one aimed at Kosara flew over everyone's head at a forty-five degree angle to the cobblestone ground beneath his feet, and the other only grazed Marita, imparting a light shove that her armor absorbed without much difficulty.

Cavendish attempted to reassert control over the rats rapidly approaching his nethers, but apparently his influence ceased when their life functions did. Instead, in his frustration and desire to hurt something, anything, he compromised his own plan slightly. The swarm of rats nearest to Kathryn broke away from the larger group and massed toward the tall Knight, occupying the same space as herself and massing up her armored figure as the dead ones had done to him, chewing and gnawing wherever the armor did not cover. "Eat well, my pets!" hissed Cavendish, satisfied that blood was spilled from one source, at least.

- Kathryn has taken 6 points of Piercing damage.

- Areas to the north that are aflame or containing rats are still considered Difficult Terrain, with appropriate movement penalties. The flames have additional, quite painful penalties for being walked through.

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Guard 2

Location: ?

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@rivaan Kosara is up next. Give me a tag when you're done.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: G11 -> F13 Action: Class Feature (Note of Undeath) Bonus Action: Swarm of Rats Reaction: N/A

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Victoria wasn't aware that Kathryn wanted to dance. Even in the middle of mortal combat, it was rarely a bad idea to shuffle and tap in rhythmic step, letting one's body sway to the cadence of swords and fire; the Bard felt that it brought her closer to the application of practical spellcraft, from her profession's point of view. But Kathryn was no Bard, and she was certainly no Wizard. There was another reason for the sudden lift, and knowing what little she did of the tall and muscle-bound Knight, it probably had some direct, martial application. This didn't stop her from breaking into a cheshire grin about midway through the lift and hit the ground with a twirl, her boots clapping softly upon fitted stone and arms outstretched (just as soon as her sword cleared killing range from Kathryn, of course).

The lift gave her momentary elevation enough to notice something on the other side of the fire. A split second gave her a view of several small bodies, smashed and burned, with their living rodent brethren still crawling about their numbers. There was promise here. Victoria didn't quite come to a stop; rather she momentarily slowed her dance just enough locate a decent vantage point, and went for it. The Bard went low, moving to place herself in a position to put the rightmost fire barrel between herself and Cavendish, providing a more than fair amount of direct cover while still allowing some sight into the area beyond. From a crouch, Victoria lay her sword to the side and replaced it with her violin bow. A few dulcet notes parted the crackle of fire, smashing sounds, and labored breath of battle, building upon itself as Victoria sprinkled a mote of Necromancy into the tapestry pattern of the Weave, reaching out in front of her, between the Constable and herself.

Something answered her call.

Tiny creatures, recently discorporated. Smashed, tread upon, flesh burned mostly away. Bones clicked back together like horrid kernels of popping sorghum in a hot pan. Charred meat twitched and pulled upon itself, gathering former individuals together to act in concert with one another. Unlike the living rats which milled about aimlessly in their predetermined area, the dead ones surged forward with directed purpose. They were mindless, loyal, and (best of all) completely disposable. Victoria knew that they could not cause Cavendish any actual harm - it was fully beyond their ability being neither silver nor enchanted as a weapon - but they could attempt to distract the monstrous Constable.

When the first of the dead rats began to crawl up his legs, Cavendish indeed looked distracted.

@Remipa Awesome Kathryn's turn.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Guard 1

Location: ??

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Deep within the shadows lay the prone, completely hidden form of the Guard stretched out his twitching, sensitive, rodent nose in the direction of his prey. His issued crossbow, a well worn but also well cared for device, bore a taut line and all the potential energy necessary to propel its ammunition through the soon-to-be corpse of its intended target.

Wait, no... <ahem> Behind the flaming barrel of pitch, the Wererat Guard bid his time, waiting for enough backs to be turned and/or the appropriate signal to occur for him to make his move. Until then, in stark contrast to the usual skulking about in the shadow to conceal one's self, the brightness and environment gave him cover until their devastating attack could be launched.

Check that: Mr. Wererat Guard found himself skittering through the trees off to the side of the fighting, a mighty internal shout of "Fuck this noise," clattering against the inside of his skull so loudly that he thought it might slip out into the audible world. Lots of things just died that were supposed to have the upper hand and he wasn't going to be next. That, and his boss had gone from confident despot straight to complete nutjob in the time it might have taken him to make a sandwich. It was time to think of himself and duck out of this situation.

No, I'm sorry - He was the established backup, and he was going to be the best Plan B he could be. This involved setting up behind impromptu murder holes in the places that their opposition would likely move next. There would be tripwires. There would be flaming oil. Spike traps. He would rain plague-infested rats upon them when they moved through an archway or large enough door. His crossbow would puncture ankles and slow them down in arduous personal agony while ...things... began to crawl all over them, nipping away tenderer parts of skin. Yes, they would see him again.

Watch out, he's right behind you! Salivating with anticipation as he sees his opportunity to clamp teeth down and make you like him. In fact, its what they should have done to begin with. It would have made for an interesting, if not particularly sophisticated, preemptive solution.

The fact is, no one in the party knows where he is, nor what he's planning. Good luck.

@Dragoknighte Marita is free to do what she needs to do.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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The dome of atmospheric condensation remained, seemingly closing off the ongoing fray from the rest of the world around. The screams from townsfolk, once perforating the stillness of the night, had come to an undramatic cease, only to be replaced by the wails of the captured doing whatever the could to free themselves before the monsters or the fire could claim them.

Evergreen and deciduous trees of around the town's central carfax stood in opposition to one another's coloration in the gloom of the evening, though made a little more similar when bathed in the light of aromatic pitch-fire (which had fully claimed one of their number in glorious conflagration at this point). If there was an upside to smoke and wall of unyielding blaze, it was that the field of conflict was now significantly warmer than the night would have otherwise allowed for the season.

Cavendish held his ground, his rat-ish features positively brimming with glee and/or anticipation as he surveyed the symphony of chaos, fire, and blood. His eyes lifted to the sky for a brief moment and arms outstretched as if to present a great feast to an honored guest in a high place. Eyes narrowed and smile faded a bit at Kosara drew upon her abilities to close the holes he bored into her flesh with his magic, but this was only a minor setback in the grand scheme. Live rats still milled about in his general vicinity, crawling over the dead ones. Living and dead, their presence made the ground hazardous.

The rightmost cage had one board missing - a good start but not enough to get anyone else out safely. The Halfling tavern cook, Daisy, hacked at the enclosure with the recovered short sword as best as she was able, but her blows did not carry much strength and were swung wildly. Nevertheless, she tried.

The other cage saw a little more progress. Cecily had the older man, Beppo, to his feet. He couldn't fit through the hole already made in their cage, but he might with just a little more effort. The lady was having difficulty keeping her elder upright, but she wasn't going to stop trying, from the look of things. The fisherman gave Baronfjord a knowing look as he came to help the young woman who had squeezed out with the wooden bar, stating with flat determination, "Nice day for fishin'." He focused his attention back on the bar next to where the Dragonborn and burlesque performer were making their attempts, resumed his low stance, and drove his fishing rod forward like a quarterstaff. The pole crashed forward into the wood, finally splintering it outward with an audible cracking sound. "Huah Hah!"

New Round

@Arty Fox Baronfjørd - Do what you do.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Cavendish

Location: A10

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A look inside Cavendish's thoughts might glean the following:

Of course the Dragonborn would scuttle off to assist the bait. It's what these kinds of people did. Predictable, really, even if it did cheat him out of a little fun. Looking at how horribly he was mangled, it wouldn't have taken much to finish him off. Cavendish wondered why might happen if a Dragonborn was made a wererat. Would he grow hair? Would their decidedly non-mammalian teeth develop lengthened incisors? Were fuzzy ears out of the question? Suddenly, the Constable wished to see if this would happen. Maybe he would save that one for last and try to answer some of his questions when he was in a better position to so so. So it was probably for the best that he lost line of sight with the draconic outsider. So many possibilities. But first, business had to be resolved.

Truly, the mind of an enlightened and well-adjusted individual.

The fire held within the confines of its liquidy boundaries, be they still spreading slowly but it wasn't enough to impair his ability to target his enemies any more than they could target him. And one seemed to be doing just that. The one with the mouth on her. "Celestial Blast?" he scoffed, still recovering from the hit. The same black, crackling energy that felled the Abomination before him flared in his eyes, streaking out in a pattern not completely unlike the Bard's demonstration of necrotic energy. Simultaneously, the same could be seen gathering in his free hand like a small, black, angry sun. Cavendish stared pointedly in the direction of Kathryn and Marita, an expression that could be best described as vindictive (as best could be fathomed on his rodent-esque features) growing on his face. When he let his twin Eldritch Blasts fly, it targeted neither the Cleric nor the Fighter. Both bolts of arcane energy flew solely at Kosara. "Why don't you ladies come closer?" he called over the crackle of the pitch-flames, taunting as if he hadn't a care in the world.


- Kosara has taken 18 points of Force damage.

- Several rats are dead and/or on fire, and the area to the north that is not aflame is still considered Difficult Terrain, with appropriate movement penalties.

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Guard 2

Location: ?

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Guard 2 continues to be out of sight, and possibly out of mind. Either way you slice it, he's doing a great job of not really being present in any discernible manner. I can see how it might get irritating. But here we all are. Except for Guard 2, of course. _{(Or is he?)}



@rivaan Kosara is up next. Please do what you can with what you have, and hang in there. Also, again do the tagging of me so that I can handle maps and such for the next round. Thanks.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: F11 Action: Attack (X2 with rapier) Bonus Action: Class Feature (Harming Beat) Reaction: N/A

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"Next time," she had sworn to herself. And she meant it. Though, by the way things had turned out over the last few seconds, Victoria wondered briefly if continuing with this course of action was the smartest move. Once again, she had somehow found herself along the front line, or the nearest approximation of this staged yet chaotic battleground. This was not the place where she was at her strongest. But it was where she was located, and she might as well attempt to make a difference, no matter how minor when compared to the more direct combat ability of her companions.

Moreover, she couldn't help but notice their Cleric tanking for, well, their tank. If this was to prevent a direct attack before Kathryn could muster up a counter to the incoming grapple, then it was within both the Bard's and Marita's best interests to assist, until stronger arms arrived in melee. Still, the idea that she might be able to reach out with her motes of animating necrotic force to raise her porcine helper ran through her reckoning, even if it was futile. The link was severed and she knew it keenly. But that didn't mean there weren't other small, simple, and most importantly dead creatures which she could bring into her service. Just not right at this moment.

With as grim a smile as she could muster, Victoria moved her violin behind her and retook a side-facing fencer's stance. The silver enhanced blade of her slender sword struck out once more as she brought her body low into a lunge; as she rose she flicked the weapon outward from the successful, telling blow, like she was signing a great check mark upon a grisly contract. The blow would have proven fatal to a stout commoner or even a trained soldier, but the creature's infuriating resistance and sheer bulk of mass blunted the effectiveness of the attack. It was still better than her last attempt, though no less annoying.

Victoria's mellifluous voice sounded over the fire and row of battle, a sweet yet haunting vocalization of the first few bars of a recognizable funerary march. The beat thrummed heavily in the air, pulsing like the rhythm of a living heart. Yet it bore upon it no life-giving essence, but a curse upon the recently damaged. Where Victoria's sword marred flesh, corruption festered and bubbled to the beat of this march, spreading along the wound like necrotic ants tunneling from underneath its stolen skin.

The necrosis hurt the beast far more than her sword was able, to Victoria's satisfaction, and the Rat Abomination began to slow its movements. It even started to stoop lower, as if suddenly carrying a great weight.

@Remipa Awesome Kathryn is up. Good luck.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Guard 1

Location: ??

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Another segment of time passed without the overt presence of the wererat guard. No unseen crossbow firing a bolt from the darkness, nor the flash of a blade in the night. Long gone or waiting for something specific, none but he might say. So as per the usual of this fight so far, Guard 1 is out of sight and not participating in the festivities.

@Dragoknighte Marita is up. Have fun.