Wight Hole Wrong Wish

Log Info

• Title: Wight Hole Wrong Wish
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Rocky, Shilde, Skielstregar, Vaera
• Place: North of Alexandria
• Time: June 6th, 2022
• Summary:

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=    The Players    =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Rocky        31s     6'8"     460 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      
    A grey Sith in armor, bit like a statue.                                   
Shilde       2m      4'4"     160 Lb     Khazad-Aul        Female    
    Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes.        
Skielstregar 0s      7'2"     330 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      
    A brilliantly silver scale with fangs and empty eyes.                      
Vaera        8m      7'0"     262 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    
    A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg.        
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jinks        4m      3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      
    A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

It's warm and the air is damp. Those two things aren't unpleasant, necesarily, but when the world is being smuthered by a clinging blanket of grey it can feel a little oppressive. Add to that cake the icing of patrol duty outside the safety of the city gates and the whole situation feels less than fantastic.

The Yggdrasil Union has need of folks comfortable in the wild. They need eyes and ears. They need the occasional sword, shillelagh, or spell. They need scouts and guards.

So here you are, milling through the eastern regions of Alexandros with the crawling fog playing around your knees. Ghostly wisps of moistue crawl through the low branches and curl in your wake at your hips.

It's quiet. A little too quiet.

Skielstregar is one that absolutely loves being in the woods, especially doing guard duty, his creepy halberd thudding against the wispy ground. He huffs lightly. "Thisss one doesss not wisssh to sssee these wights," he comments to those around him. "They have fought ghouls, but not thisss."

"I don't want to see them either, not particularly." Vaera chuffs. She was also there and on guard, and not to bothered by the atmosphere, but the general state of the woods led to a general unease. "But, if they're around, safer to have them gone than dropping on someone less prepared. That's why we're here after all. That or the Yggdrasil union are willing to put other people on the line because they stay in the woods a lot. Hope whatever they're planning or doing is worth it."

Shilde was picked to be with this group.. partly from her experience with these wights to date, and partly because she wanted to be out and about regardless. So here she and Rocky are, playing support to the pair of makari who were hired to do the scouting in this particular region. The dog is currently ranging a distance away, keeping ears and nose on the job of detecting the undead.. while also warding other animals away. Shilde tromps along with Skielstregar and Vaera, a simple druid blessing giving her the ability to keep apace of them. "Just don' let'em touch you," the golden haired dwarf offers as sage advice. "Keep a clear escape path.. puttin' em down's important, but fallin' to 'em just increases their number. Better t'run an' fight another day. Won't be doin' any favours fallin' here t'night."

The Union leader who'd sent you on this patrol gave much the same by way of instruction; destroy what you can, survive to report the rest. The 'big twigs' (as a certain Stoutbrew would refer to them) aren't interested in losing talented guards in the name of pride or honor. They'd enjoy having to track you down and set you ablaze even less. The grumpy, hawk-nosed gnome with pale-green skin, orange freckles, and blaze-red hair jabbed a dirt-encrusted finger at you to emphasize that point.

And who wants to cross a gnome?

The foot paths in this region are slim pickings. There are game trails t follow, though, and the woodland creatures have scattered to the four winds for now, leaving them open for your use.

The spectral giants of nearby hills stick out above the broken treeline, set in mild contrast against the grey sky. Looking out across the ground and between the trees, the fog continues to swim and cavort lazily.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (5)+11: 16 GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (11)+14: 25 GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+11: (4)+11: 15 GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (9)+12: 21 GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (15)+12: 27

Rocky is a jungle lizard. Finally, some nice weather. The context of the mission is less ideal, and he's not too such about shareing a name with a dog. "To die is not a great thing, but happens to all in time. To rise again is rare, and to do so as hungry dead is very bad."

Skiel would never want to cross a gnome. That'd have gnarly gnonsense consequence.

At least he had his mate and Rocky with them, that made it better. "Yesss..." he rumbles to Shilde. "Absssscond if it becomes an issue."

He lumbers to spy the hills, him squinting in the grey day as he sighs, looking at the trails. He defers the judgement to the other more naturely folk to figure out what's good to do.

GAME: Shilde casts Longstrider. Caster Level: 7 DC: 15

There's a quiet clacking coupled with a constant, percussive series of ratcheting clicks. The sort of thing you wouldn't expect to hear in the forest and the sort of thing you likely wouldn't notice on a normal day. Not through te birdsong and chorus of natural fauna.

Tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk. Pause. Tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk.

Pause.

Tk...

Following the sound is surprisingly easy. There! In the tree! A little skull-shaped steel thing on six tiny legs. It perches against branch and trunk and considers the quarter with green pinpricks of light floating in deep, dark empty sockets. Little, tightly-twisted copper wires run from the sinus gaps and twist around the bulk of the skull-shape before disappearing into the chassis what sprouts the insectoid legs.

It notices you noticing it. It sits stock still.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls wisdom: (11)+1: 12

Rocky chuffs softly. "That... is not a wight." Master naturalist.

"Ye been briefed'n what these rotters can do, aye?" Shilde asks, not in the mood to lecture further unless there's need. Half her attention is on her ranging companion, the other on the landscape about. Watching to see what animals the dog might disturb.. or the lack thereof. She has her shield unlimbered, but her gnarled club still hangs from the loop in her belt.

Then she hears it. The tk-tk-tking. Her eyes sweep about until they land upon the metal pretender to life. She holds a hand up, agreeing with the heavily armoured makari. "No. S'not."

Meanwhile, Rocky (the dog!) perks his ears up to the sound.. then crouches low, creeping towards its source.

"Yeah, no telling how many creatures are out later." Vaera chuffs. "So no telling if we'll get cut off if we stick around too long or not. But it shouldn't take too long to take out a couple if we come across them, then we can head elsewhere if they're attracted to the noise."

"No experience with wights, ghouls yes, and I'd rather err on the side of caution."

Skielstregar blinks. Then frowns. "... thisss thing remindsss thisss one of the weird machine person that absorbed that magic with their staff," he growls.

Vaera nods once. "Yes, I know enough to know that they'll drain anyone they touch until they turn into one of them. So stick to anything to keep them at range."

Then there is a small creature, or machine, that seems to be out in the area. She turns to watch it. "Doesn't look living. It's either an errant artifice machine in which case it should be brought back to whoever lost it or has it in the forest for questioning, or it's a threat, and may need to be dealt with. You think it can drain magic like you said Skielstregar?"

"Eh. Ignore't fer now, I'm thinkin'," Shilde says dismissively. "Not th'strangest thing've ever run across out 'ere.. though t'is fairly strange." She whistles sharply, unworried about attracting the device's attention... it looks like it's already spotted them. Rocky's (the dog!) ears perk, and his head turns to stare at Shilde and the three Makari.. then when she slaps her hip, he rises and begins to lope towards them.

The device remains where it is and if it wasn't for the eerie green glowing points in the dark eyesockets one might think it inert. As Shilde calls her hound over, it takes a rapid series of half-steps to pivot and follow the movement of the dog. It's small enough to navigate the medium-sized branches higher off the ground easily. As the group begins to move again the device bobs drunkenly between trees to keep them in sight.

When it flies the six legs curl up under the lower chassis and a buzzing issues from some variety of vent aimed towards the ground. A second, smaller port opens inside the jaw and punctuated fsst-fsssst sounds announce its jerking through the air.

It seems intent on following for now.

Rocky chuffs again, eyeing the Skull Bug Device. "Maybe... is smart?" Turning towards the SBD, Rocky (the sith one) steps foreward. "This One greets you! How may This One be of help?"

Skielstregar shakes his head. "No, not drain magic, not thisss thing. But... be wary..." he rumbles.

Then, he glances about slowly as they trek on, him glancing back worriedly towards the odd thing following them. "... thisss one thinks there might be more than just that one thing. Gut feeling."

He gulps, remembering how off putting that golem was in the yard, and how dire it all was.

When the sith-makar known as Rocky addresses the skull directly the little insect legs extend, raising it up higher. There's an odd sound that spills forth from between the jaws of the skull, like an inhaled breath and broken gibberish spilling inward and indecipherable.

A click. A hum.

"It warns the creatures hearing this." The voice is scratchy, distant, and hollow and rides atop the haggard breath of an old bellows. "The Black Dream nests in this fog. It seeks the Dream's dark font but has not found it. Turn back to safety."

"Ah. Ye had t'go'n talk to it!" Shilde says, pointing a thick finger at Rocky (not the dog!) "Now we know 'bout this Black Dream fuggery'n a dark font, whutever that is... an' now we gotta go'n investigate it! Or leave somethin' maybe nasty behind us!" Rocky (the dog!) whines a little bit, in sympathy.

Skielstregar blinks, and it takes him a solid moment to place the voice.

A solid... few moments. Click. Groan.

"This one appreciates the warning, magic eater. But the Black Dream isss necromancccy, no? We are here to dessstroy sssuch a thing."

The odd sound returns to spill forth from between the jaws of the skull, like an inhaled breath and broken gibberish spilling inward and indecipherable. Only shorter this time.

The click. the hum.

"It warns the creatures hearing this." The voice is scratchy, distant, and hollow and rides atop the haggard breath of an old bellows. "The Black Dream nests in this fog. It seeks the Dream's dark font but has not found it. Turn back to safety."

The little skull on insect legs quiets and settles back down ready to crawl.

Rocky blinks. Blinks again. Looks to the others (even the dog). "...what is Black Dream? Necromancy? It warns of the wights?" The Warrior Caste eyes the SBD again "...that is good, I guess."

Shilde looks at the metal mockery of life with narrowed eyes, then kneels down and picks up a small, palm sized stone. She measures the distance, tosses the stone up and down in her hand a couple of times to get a feel for its weight...

Then the druid sighs and lets the rock drop. "Well. We pushin' into the fog, then? Still gotta job t'do. Might be talkin' 'bout wights. Might be talkin' 'bout somethin' else. Might be somethin' t'deal with so's we're not dealin' with it with the wights."

"I don't know what this thing is warning about, if it's even to be trusted. Aren't things shaped like skulls usually evil in most cultures? Seems like an odd choice for a messenger creature." Vaera shrugs. "Still, we don't have any concrete evidence to go on save for that. And we should eliminate undead if we find them."

GAME: Shilde rolls survival+2: (18)+16+2: 36

Rocky chuffs. "All things have skulls. Bug skulls are on the outside."

GAME: Rocky rolls survival: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Shilde rolls will: (19)+9: 28

While the mechanical skull can't seem to communicate beyond replaying the prepared phrase, it is interested in and capable of following you. The tk-tk-tk-tk-tk-tk and occasional fsst-fssssst reminding you of its place in the trees nearby. 

You continue on your route and the fog seems to grow thicker. Several times the group pulls up when someone is certain they espy a form lurking or skulking through the clinging grey. Weapons are raised, stances are braced... but no attack comes.

Shilde, Skielstregar, and Vaera prove to be adept woodspersons and manage to navigate through the untamed wilderness even as the game trails dry up and the ground grows rockier. The moisture on the air is so thick it begins to like skin and scales and fur dewy.

The sense of immediate danger grows to be omnipresent and it's only through concentrated effort that the group manages to stick together. A handful of times one pulls their arm away as a tendril of fog seems to coil and pull towards the blurry space through the trees.

Shilde is forced to stop and clear her head at one interval. In the lead as she is her vision goes completely grey and the desire to continue on blindly is difficult to resist. A furious squinting and rubbing of the eyes, a pinch of the nose, and a good, gooey wad of spit spent clears the silent siren's song away.

The fog breaks suddenly to settle heavily across the ground. It seems to be pouring up and out of a deep, dark hole in the middle of a clearing. Fresh, dark earth piles up and around said hole. The surrounding trees are dead and scraggly and the mountain is a black, jagged giant to the north and east.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (6)+14: 20
GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (18)+12: 30
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25
GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (9)+12: 21

Beneath the fog the earth is dark, with scattered rocks, dying patches of grass, and... corpses. Hundead upon hundreds of corpses. Birds, rodents, deer... and a few people. A kobold and a pair of mites. Some are desiccated, some fresh, and most show signs of being chewed upon.

GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (8)+12: 20
<OOC> Vaera says, "Yeah, I'll hold an action to shoot at anything coming out of that hole"

GAME: Shilde casts Light. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+17: (19)+17: 36
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+17: (2)+17: 19
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+12: (13)+12: 25
GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (13)+14: 27
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (9)+7: 16

Shilde is in a sour mood, if her scowl is anything to go by. Well, more sour than she might have been before. She did not appreciate the fog trying to play tricks with her mind, and the blightened land with the dead flora and fauna is pushing her even further towards irate. Not quite growling, she tells her dog, "C'mon boy. Time t'get t'work." With her shield held firm, she fishes into her pocket for one of her lighting stones as she and the large dog advance towards the hole, angling to try and stay out of Vaera's field of fire.

When the pair reach the hole, she tosses the stone, which she has since enchanted to glow, down into its depths. And it falls. And falls. And stuff starts moving. "Oi, it's deep! Look alive! Stuff's startin' move! Looks like rotters a'right!"

GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (10)+12: 22
GAME: Rocky rolls knowledge/religion: (15)+2: 17

Rocky moves foreward, into the unknown. Placeing himself in danger so others don't have to is sort of his thing. "These also not wight. Like many small zombies, working as one."

With the pulse of living hearts entering the clearing, two sections of the woodland floor animte. Corpses jitter and jerk, darting up and around and beginning to spin. Gobbets of half-dried gore flick and flip out from the writhing mass of half-eaten parts. They don't seem ready to attack-- yet-- and instead are being brought up and moving by some sort of collecting, dark power.

GAME: Skielstregar casts Shield. Caster Level: 7 DC: 13

Skielstregar is on edge as they push forward, him a little unnerved by the atmosphere. The blade of his halberd dripping with a black ichor as they go.

Eventually, the party stops shorts, and his mate is leveling their weapon ahead. He looks about, "Thisss one doesssn't know why we stopped, it feelsss rather..." He sniffs the air. "... fine? Here?"

He needs to get his nose checked out. Especially after others give warning. The silverscale shakes his head and steels himself. "Agh, ssscales...!"

He rushes forward, one hand pounding at the air. "Protect this one...!" he growls out, black ichor seeping from his scales before it forms boney black wings furled around him. The ink >pops< and an invisible barrier is left in it's wake.

GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1-2: (1)+11+1+-2: 11 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1-2: (3)+11+1+-2: 13 (Reroll)

Vaera stops to keep an eye on the hole that seemed at the center of the area in case anything appeared out of it. Which proved unecessary, as the threats appeared from the surrounding area. The redscale readies her thunderbelcher that she had idle in one hand, taking aim, and smacking the side of the artifice as something was not quite whirring as it should. Still, the shot whizzes harmlessly through the flying debris.

GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude: (4)+9: 13 GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude: (9)+9: 18 (Reroll) GAME: Shilde casts True Form. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 (Converting to Nature's Ally IV)

"Ware the hole!" Shilde warns as she backs up, initiating a more complicated summoning ritual as Rocky (the dog!) stands guard, growling, daring anything to approach.

GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2: (6)+9: 15

Rocky trades his large sword for a still pretty big club, moving towards the pool of moving parts. The club slaps down, but just mooshes some bits into the dirt, not doing any real damage.

GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2: (13)+9: 22
GAME: Rocky rolls damage2: aliased to 1d6+3: (1)+3: 4
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9: (14)+9: 23
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+9: (2)+9: 11
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+9: (7)+9: 16
GAME: Jinks rolls 3d6: (6): 6
GAME: Jinks rolls 3d6: (11): 11
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (2): 2
GAME: Rocky rolls reflex: (6)+4: 10
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (4): 4

Up from the hole in the ground comes the eyeless wight. An undead monster so pale as to be almost blue, with loose skin hanging off of ragged bones and thin, corded muscles. Its eyesockets are hollow and deep, with shadow seeming to leak and crawl from them as it moves. It has no lower jaw and a shriveled worm of a tongue sways like a meaty bell's clapper.

The undead things begin to tumble, flop, hop, and fly over the ground like an unquiet tide of roiling offal. Claws dig, broken beaks peck, and jagged bones poke. They're coated in a terrible slime and that slime burns when it slaps against exposed flash and scales.

Both the armored sith-makar and oversized dog are coated in the terrible slime. Hissing noises and the smell of burning mingles with the cool damp of the mists.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-2-5: (4)+13+-2+-5: 10

Skielstregar looks back and forth as the undead swarm starts to engulf some of the party. "Worry not, thisss one will-"

And then the ghastly looking undead came out on its lonesome. Dead eyes constrict to slits, and his nearly still heart quickens its dull pace. "WATCH OUT!" he yells, stepping forward and smashing his halberd downwards in two wide swipes. They would have hit, but loose earth makes him stumble, and he scrambles back as the hole almost gives way further to claim him as well to join the undead pit.

His halberd drips deathly ink.

GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1+1-4: (9)+11+1+1+-4: 18
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1+1-4: (9)+11+1+1+-4: 18
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1+1-4: (10)+11+1+1+-4: 19
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+1: (12)+4+1: 17
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+1: (3)+4+1: 8
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+1: (5)+4+1: 10

Vaera shifts a bit to the side to get just close enough to the thing attacking Skielstregar near the other swarm, as it seemed much more of a threat. The red makari takes aim, and quickly repeats a salvo of shots that ring all manage to hit their mark. Well, they hit, but most seem to do little to it. "That beast is unnaturally tough!" The hunter warns. "It may need silver, or some other manner of bane to it's defenses."

<OOC> Shilde summons a dire wolf. 11,13 by 12,14
GAME: Shilde casts Strong Jaw. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (3)+7: 10
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Jinks rolls 2d6: (8): 8
GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude: (19)+9: 28
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9: (3)+9: 12
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (3): 3
<OOC> Jinks says, "3 negative levels for Rocky-the-dog."

GAME: Jinks rolls 2d6: (8): 8
GAME: Rocky rolls fort: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Rocky rolls fort: (13)+9: 22 (Reroll)
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2: (10)+9: 19
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2-5: (20)+9+-5: 24 (THREAT)
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2-5: (9)+9+-5: 13
GAME: Rocky rolls knowledge/religion: (12)+2: 14
GAME: Rocky rolls damage2: aliased to 1d6+3: (3)+3: 6
GAME: Rocky rolls damage2: aliased to 1d6+3: (1)+3: 4

Rocky's club rises and falls, rises and falls, splatting animated bits. But are a lot more bits to splat. The eyeless wonder gets a look, but no recognition

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+9: (5)+9: 14
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+9: (7)+9: 16
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (17)+7: 24
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9-3: (14)+9+-3: 20
GAME: Jinks rolls 3d6: (13): 13
GAME: Jinks rolls 3d6: (6): 6
GAME: Jinks rolls 3d6: (10): 10
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+6: (6)+6: 12
GAME: Shilde rolls 3d6+9: (10)+9: 19
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-2: (16)+13+-2: 27
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage21+6+2: aliased to 1d10+8+6+2: (8)+8+6+2: 24
GAME: Skielstregar rolls reflex: (20)+6: 26 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)

The shambling thing sheds dirt and foul, clinging shadow as it turns its vacant gaze this way and that. The cold cling of the beyond reaches out but fails to find its hold. It flails weakly at the sith-makar, but its grasping claws and bony fingers only find the empty air and hardened armor both mundane and arcane.

The swarms press on, pushing into the silver sith-makar's space and biting, clawing, jabbing, and tearing while its counterpart is savaged to pieces by the massive lupine and canine beasts.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude: (12)+10: 22 (Reroll)
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21: (3)+13: 16
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "oh +2 more with flnak"
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-2-5+2: (11)+13+-2+-5+2: 19

The shambling mound comes up to Skiel, and his tense state makes him lash out, the weapon carving through most but not getting it as good as it should be. "Gah... ff... fall! Sssstay dead!" he harries, turning his ire towards the creature in front of him. The undead under him screws up his aim, and the wide swings with the polearm succeed in only flicking black ichor onto the eyeless wight. Which just seeps right into the undead, finding a home.

Huffing, he twist out of the horde, just a arm's length away from Rocky (the sith!). "River Ssstone..." he huffs, adjusting the grip on his polearm. Ink drips from betwixt his fingers as a dull crimson life fills his eyes. "... thisss one.. iss... going to do the thing."

GAME: Vaera rolls fortitude: (17)+8: 25
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1+1-4: (10)+11+1+1+-4: 19
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1+1-4: (17)+11+1+1+-4: 26
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+11+1+1-4: (15)+11+1+1+-4: 24
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+2: (10)+4+2: 16
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+2: (1)+4+2: 7
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+2: (12)+4+2: 18

Vaera stops to consider her options, with the creature barely registering her shots. Instead, she elects to target one of the swarms floating around wildly, and again she loads up another volley of shots in swift sucession. This one sends skulls splintering, and tearing through the rest of the bits, cutting a large swathe through them.

"That just leaves the other swarm and the creature. But do not let your guards down!"

GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9-3: (15)+9+-3: 21
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (14)+7: 21
GAME: Jinks rolls 2d6: (10): 10
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7+2: (20)+7+2: 29
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7+2: (2)+7+2: 11
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+7: (1)+7: 8
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9-3: (19)+9+-3: 25
GAME: Shilde rolls 3d6+9: (17)+9: 26
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7+2: (4)+7+2: 13
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9-3: (18)+9+-3: 24
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9-3: (5)+9+-3: 11
GAME: Shilde spends ONE use of WILDSHAPE.

Shilde looks at Rocky (the dog!) with a pained expression.. the burned away fur, the scored flesh.. and the obvious effects of lifedraining power sapping away at his vitality. Then she turns to look at what must be the source of this. The eye-less wight. She invokes her seldom used druid magic, yelling.. and then howling.. as if in pain as her body shifts and controts, armour and gear disappearing to be replaced by tooth and fur.. and then, as a slightly smaller version of the wolf she summoned, she charges around Skielstregar, howling for her pack to follow.

Rocky (the dog!), ever faithful, runs after her, as does the conjured wolf, and the pair of them leap at the wight with snarling and much fang, pulling the creature down to the ground.

GAME: Rocky rolls fortitude: (2)+9: 11
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (3): 3
<OOC> Jinks says, "3 negative levels."
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2+2-3: (6)+9+2+-3: 14
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon2+2-3-5: (5)+9+2+-3+-5: 8
GAME: Jinks rolls 2d6: (11): 11

Rocky chuffs happily as enemies fall... or at least stop moving, and turns his focus to the eyeless wonder... and feels his limbs like lead. He swings, but slow and without force. "This One... does not feel well."

GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+9-4: (2)+9+-4: 7
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+9-4: (13)+9+-4: 18

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (4): 4
<OOC> Jinks says, "4 negative levels. Then get mad."
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "WE GET REALLY MAD"
GAME: Skielstregar RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 14 temporary HP
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-4: (8)+15+-4: 19
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon21-4-2-5: (12)+15+-4+-2+-5: 16
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damaage21+2+6: (3)+10+2+6: 21

Skielstregar readies himself to ward off the tide alongside River Stone, though he finds that no preparation is needed as nearby gunfire downs the last of them into the dirt. He looks over, a pride in his eyes. "Good work Firebrand!" he calls out. It looks like he's about to say something more, but he looks over and-

The wolves. People turning into wolves. And they're all bounding up towards him?!

Half of him, the rational side, knows it's just Ea responding to Shilde. The other half rips out from him in sheer panic. "Thisss one is not a monster!" he gargles out in a screech as the black ichor from before drips out form between his scales, sputters out of his mouth, and makes his eyes burn crimson. The miasma leaks from him, and is drawn towards the prone wight.

Halberd up! "DIE! DIE! DIE!" he screams in a frenzy, the halberd weakly smashing into the ground and only getting just a chunk out. He limps backwards. "... why... cold...?"

GAME: Vaera rolls fortitude: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (4): 4

Vaera stops, and steadies to take aim at the beast, but finds that her aim is anything but steady. She stops, and the gun vanishes, replaced with a small, ornate dragonspitter that disappears into her coat. "That thing is draining energy around it!" She shouts, already backing up as she tried to put distance to the thing. "Everyone, fall back, before it gets worse." The hunter shouts over the group.

GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude: (4)+9: 13
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+9-3: (4)+9+-3: 10
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (5)+7: 12
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (1): 1
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (4): 4
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (3): 3
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7-3+2: (15)+7+-3+2: 21
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+6: (6)+6: 12

Rocky (the dog!) finally succumbs to whatever death energies are washing over the immediate area... Shilde's answering howl is anguished as the dog staggers. A mental command afford by the summoning magic has the dire wolf press in on the prone eyeless creature while she lopes past it and, with her jaws, helps the dog stumble away from the fight.

GAME: Jinks rolls 2d6: (8): 8
GAME: Rocky rolls fortitude: (7)+9: 16
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (2): 2
<OOC> Jinks says, "5 negative levels."
<OOC> Jinks says, "(total)"

Rocky chuffs and snarls, drawing himself up despite deaden limbs... and sees reason, backing away with a snarl. Once sur he has some space, the grey scale turns and runs, susprisingly agile for all his mass.

GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7-3: (2)+7+-3: 6
GAME: Jinks rolls 1dd20+9: (8)+1dd20+9: 17
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d8+1: (3)+1: 4

The summoned wolf is looking haggard, panting and flinching as the emaciated corpse shambles back up to standing. It gurgles something unintelligible and the pale-blue skin sloughs away from its right arm to reveal an ancient humerus dotted with pits from the canid bites. The slack meat droops like a torn shade to reveal a ribcage half-broken by a blow from Skielstregar's polearm.

Back on its feet it prepares to advance towards the last bipedal creature interrupting its exvacation work...

GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude-4: (7)+10+-4: 13
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (4): 4

More and more of the black ichor is ripped out of Skielstregar, it siphoning towards the undead as the silverscale slowly becomes a tarnished bronze. The warrior falls to a knee, one hand clutching over his heart. His head whips one way, finding the lupine Shilde and Rocky (both of them!) absconding. The other way, and his mate is retreating. A taloned hand reaches out for her. "Vaer...miir..." he whispers hoarsely, ink dripping from his eyes as he falls to the ground unceremoniously.

This must be it. The creature looms over him to finish the last of them remaining.

Skielstregar twitches, him abruptly grabbing at his skull as tarnished scales grow and overlap one another and bunch together, talons growing hideously long.

He rolls over onto all fours, halberd in his maw.

"WhIcH wAy WaS mIcTlAn AgAiN? i'M hUnGrY..."

Deathly dirt kicks up as he bounds off.

Combatty

Map: https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=m6444d33nz3