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[ThLunarian]

Thaddeus stays in good spirits for the duration of the trek through these doldrums. The light spell is a welcome boon for him, his innate darkvision having been drastically limited during all the years he's spent on the surface. When he is not conversing with his teammates or with the other soldiers, he might be heard quietly humming holy Heironeous hymns to himself by those who wish to listen.

His good spirits are significantly dampened by the group's arrival at the spiral tower. He looks awkwardly back and forth between the unforgiving path ahead and the armour he's wearing. "Er.... I don't suppose you have one of your flying extracts on hand, Draco?"

((Sorry for the delay, Christmas and etc. My relatively new girlfriend, who might be The One, had her daughter yesterday (she and the dad alternate custody), and I spent all day hanging out with the two of them, and then today for Christmas proper I took the girlfriend to meet the family. Been pretty busy lately! Hope you all have enjoyed your Christmases.

I'll take care of gaining the level probably tomorrow.

Acrobatics w/ Armor Check Penalty (1d20-5=12)))

 

[KittenMaster]

Specks echo a clatter against walls, Chloe's armored leg slips, scratching against the edge of the stair way, but not quite taking the entire girl down.

Once she is helped up you are able to continue the rest of the trek with more sense of caution in mind.

After a long, but not proportionately so compared to the cavern, trip down the tower, you eventually find your way to an underground downward dig leading into the world below. The air begins becoming thinner, and creatures of the dark scurry about here. You are now in an underground channel that expands slowly but eventually to a great expanse of hollow, your path surrounded by open depths.

<My computer blue screened TWICE writing this post.>

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((Damn, that's a lot of blue screening))

As the party reaches the bottom of the tower, he takes in what he can see of the depths, only seeing as far as the light allows him to see.

"Wow, we're getting really deep underground. How much deeper do you think we have to go before everything flips upside down?"

 

[Mike M]

((Leveling up completed.))

Dreadstone shoots Leo a strange look, so befuddled by the man's bizarre question that he is not quite sure how he is supposed to respond.

"Actually," Chloe volunteers, seemingly taking the inquiry at face value, "I think we would first encounter a zone of weightlessness before we would find ourselves hanging from the ceiling."

Dreadstone shakes his head. "Leadin' a parade of goons," he mutters to the mercifully silent Gnaw as he picks his way along the narrow path through the abyss.

 

[ThLunarian]

"Zone of weightlessness?" says Thaddeus, intrigued. "This new learning amazes me. It was once suggested to me that sheeps' bladders might be employed to prevent earthquakes. I was skeptical, but could not produce any evidence to the contrary. What is your take, Chloe?"

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

The talk of sheepskin bladders and earthquakes further intrigues Leo. "Sheepskin bladders? Oh! Would they stop the earthquake by being filled with air and floating the building off the ground? That seems like it would take a lot of bladders."

He shoots an intrigued look to Thaddeus and Chloe, now wanting to discuss zero gravity further. "Now wait, heavy is what makes things hurt more when they hit you, right? So if I ate a bunch of cupcakes and got heavier, I could grab things better! If I did that in a floating area, I could get all the benefits without getting worn out from having to walk around all fat-like! ...Does it work like that?"

 

[DeadPhoenix]

Draco grabs his head and says "It actually hurts my head listening to you all be this stupid..."

 

[KittenMaster]

<Let me know when everyone is about ready.

Also, I'm gonna try and build a DM table in Little Big Planet>

 

[ThLunarian]

((I'm good to go after Mike M gives Chloe's input to the discussion, lol))

 

[KittenMaster]

<One of the things I listed in my list of things to improve was to not have such a huge sense of urgency, because it was unintentional but I think it caused less moments of characters just chilling and having actual discussions among themselves and instead just wanting to head for the next goal as quickly as possible.>

 

[Mike M]

Chloe's face reddens at being put on the spot in such a manner. "Well," she begins, "I should stress that most of my education has been in clerical manners, but from what I can recall..."

Grasping the glowing sphere of daylight illuminating the narrow passage across the abyss, she holds it between her hands. "Our world is a sphere, like this, right? And things are held down on its surface by the efforts of an invisible force called... Um... Gravytees, I think? Anyway, these gravytees push against the surface, and that's what keeps us on the ground. But they're spread all across the globe, so it would stand to reason that if you go in any one direction through the sphere, you eventually reach the point where the efforts of the gravytees cancel each other out, where there would be nothing to hold you down.

"Something like that."

 

[DeadPhoenix]

"Not exactly. The... 'Gravytees' actually get stronger the deeper you go, tot he point that it would probably crush us well before we hit the center. Speaking of, we are no where near hitting the center of the planet. First we'd have to get through the Underdark, where we'd have to cut our way past Thaddeus' extended family, and then what ever crap is below that until eventually you reach nothing but lava, which is actually where volcanoes get their lava from. We might be close to the Underdark, but every thing else much, much further way, even more so since we aren't even going straight down."

((Its not easy trying to balance what my character would know about their world, with what i know about our world, and how it might actually work in a fantasy world.))

 

[KittenMaster]

((Its not easy trying to balance what my character would know about their world, with what i know about our world, and how it might actually work in a fantasy world.))

<I don't think the Pathfinder designers intended this, but it's implied that gravity is an academically known force of nature as there are spells with 'gravity' in the name.

Plus one of the more minor themes of my game is the growing relevance of science and technology as years pass by, so I don't think the knowledge of gravity is so out of place in this context.>

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

Leo listens to Draco's lecture on gravity, discovering that he wasn't even close to how things actually work in the process. He ends up hanging on one particular detail.

"So it can crush people if they go too deep into the world? Damn, gravy tea sounds dangerous."

((I'm ready to move on when you guys are. If anyone wants to keep talking to Leo, that's fine with me too, though it's just kind of instinct for me to keep responding to stuff))

 

[KittenMaster]

Days continue on, and your lives of you and your men become the trek through the underground darkness.

With an environment unsuited to any form of life but the cave dwelling creatures that hunt, and monsters that thrive on the minerals below the surface of the earth, the Wizards that have accompanied your unit begin to perform a process of teleporting away, and returning with necessary goods to keep everyone nourished and alive. Chloe and other clerics continue to create water for everyone to drink, and provide necessary light. Soldiers eventually begin to spend time shaving their faces and other idle activities during the endless moment.

<I'd like everyone to give an account of how their characters might interact with the Ruby Keep soldiers, discussions they may have with them. At this point, very little conspires against the freedom of the party to characterize a little, let us make the best of it with some last minute roleplay.>

 

[ThLunarian]

((How have the Ruby Keep guys been acting toward Thaddeus so far? Has it been consistent with the way he's been treated most of his life, or have they warmed up, given recent events? Or is that all up to me?))

 

[Mike M]

Blessed with the dual advantage of being both difficult to spot in the impenetrable darkness and the sight needed to navigate freely within, Dreadstone spends much of his time at the advance of the party, scouting out the tunnels ahead for dangers that may lurk unseen by eyes less keen than his own. Gnaw, meanwhile, has taken to staying well within the radius of Chloe's divine light, leaving the tiefling ranger alone for these sorties away from the party. It's strange, but until a few months ago he had never entertained the notion of working with an animal companion, especially one as ill-tempered and ill-behaved as Gnaw. Now, he feels almost as though as he's missing a limb, the phantom echoes of flexing a muscle and expecting a response, but feeling nothing in return.

Returning from one such scouting while the troop is breaking camp and preparing to embark on the day's march, Dreadstone startles a young guard as his silver eyes glint in the furthest reaches of a cleric's magical light. "Dead gods below!" the man shouts, leveling a spear in Dreadstone's direction. Dreadstone eyes the point of the spear with a quizzical glance before pointedly placing his finger on the point of it and pushing it off to the side.

"Might want t'watch where yer pointin' that thing, son," he says as he steps further into the light.

The guard snaps to attention, the spear at the ready at his side once more. "Sorry about that, sir," he apologizes. "You... You snuck up on me, that's all."

Dreadstone nods. "This is really a job for a dwarf or an elf," he observes. "Bein' on guard on the edge of th'dark like this."

"Apologies sir, but we've just got more humans than those that can see in the dark, sir," the guard says. "We try and rotate 'em to the front as much as possible, but there're only so many to go round."

Dreadstone sighs. "You go t'war with the army you've got, not the army y'want," he mutters.

"Pardon, sir?"

"Nothin' you need worry 'bout, son," Dreadstone says to him. "Just a quote I read from a military minister once. He wasn't a particularly good one, sadly 'nough."

Dreadstone pauses long enough to light up a cigarette, the glowing ember disproportionately bright in the darkness that envelops him, casting his features in a faint shade of red light.

"So, uh..." the guard says, antsy to fill the gap in the conversation, "did you see anything out there?"

Dreadstone nods again. "I did," he confirms. "Not sure what I saw, though, but it was big. Big 'nough that I couldn't see all of it at once, an' I can see a fair ways in th'dark."

A faint rattling of armor emanates from the guard as he quakes in momentary fear, but he quickly recomposes himself when he catches Dreadstone's eye. "Anything you think we'll need to worry about?" he asks.

"Nah," Dreadstone says, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the darkness. "Whatever it was didn't seem none too interested in what we're up to down here. Long as we steer clear of it, I don't think it'll give us any problems."

More silence as Dreadstone smokes his cigarette as the ineffectual guard stares off blindly into the dark. "Y'got a family back home?" Dreadstone asks.

"Everyone's got a family, sir," the guard replies.

"Hm," grunts Dreadstone. "A smart one, then."

"Better than the alternative, sir."

"True 'nough. True 'nough."

"But no, sir, I don't have a family back home. Not anymore. Not really."

"Sorry t'hear that."

"Don't be, sir. In a way, it makes this whole thing easier, doesn't it?"

"How so?"

"Most of us down here are like me. We don't have ties keeping us down. So when we... When we don't..."

Dreadstone slinks out of the dark like a serpent striking, his face stopping mere inches from the guard's. "Don't y'talk like that, soldier," he growls. "I won't hear none of it. This ain't some suicide mission we're on, an' I don't have any intention of dyin' down here in this godsforsaken hole. You stick t'gether with your unit, an' we walk outta this alive. Yer not down here 'cause your disposable, yer down here because this is our last, best hope to set things right!"

"Of course, sir," the guard says, his voice sounding as though his mouth has suddenly gone dry. "A thousand pardons, sir."

"Granted," Dreadstone says through gritted teeth as he marches toward the rest of the soldiers as they break down their camp, silently cursing himself for the need to berate the young man for vocalizing what he himself is feeling.

 

[KittenMaster]

<@Thaddeus: you can leave it up to you or make a charisma check to help decide.>

 

[ThLunarian]

Conviction. A sense of purpose. Guilt. Worry.

Thaddeus is being pulled in a number of directions, and the end result is confusion.

Internally, he feels better than he has in a long time. He seems to finally have earned the respect of his fellow soldiers; he is on a purposeful mission for a righteous cause, as is befitting a paladin of Heironeous; he has earned the Queen's favor. There is also an added bonus that comes from being in a dark, underground environment for an extended period of time that he can't quite put into words, but that a better-educated man would describe as his body producing far more endorphins than he is used to.

Unfortunately, his comrades-in-arms don't seem to share his newfound zest for life. His own comrades seem to be dealing with it well enough (though Dreadstone seems to be keeping to himself somewhat more than usual), but the rank-and-file soldiers among them are having a crisis of morale, obvious by the looks of despair on their faces.

He seeks out a squire, and finds a scrawny human boy, no more than eighteen years of age. "Lad," he says, "How much alcohol is available, if any?"

The boy bits his lip and frowns. "There is none, Sir."

Thaddeus nods. "Please fetch one of the men responsible for fetching supplies. I have a request for them."

"Yes, Sir!" The boy scurries away.

Some minutes later, a pudgy, middle-aged, black-bearded man in a wizard's robe lumbers up to Thaddeus. "You requested my presence, Sir?" he says. Thaddeus detects the slightest hint of distaste in the man's tone, but he ignores it.

"Soldier," he greets the man amiably, "You are capable of teleporting to and from the castle for supplies, correct?"

"Yes, Sir," he replies. "I made a trip earlier today, in fact."

He nods, pleased. "Excellent. I have a favour to ask. Not an order, mind you, but I suspect you will not want to refuse." He produces a hefty sack of coin from his pouch and hands it over.

----------------------

A few hours later, Thaddeus momentarily stops the march and climbs onto a box to address the men.

"We have been traveling for many days now, in a dark, musty environment that I wager none of you are quite acclimated to," he begins. "You have all done -- rather, you are all doing -- an outstanding job in continuing on despite the length of the journey and the uncertainty of what's to come.

"However, I have noticed of late that these unsavory conditions have taken their toll on morale. So, I've decided to do something about it."

He gestures down to a stack of crates. "Mead, ale, wine, and various other, substantially stronger concoctions, paired with a feast fit for a king - roasted duck, honey-glazed biscuits, lemon meringue custard... and that's just off the top of my head.

"We can't all afford to get drunk at once, of course, lest we leave ourselves vulnerable. So, on this eve, those with an even-numbered birth year shall be permitted to drink to your hearts' content, and tomorrow the odd-numbered will have their turn. The feast, of course, will be available to all, for both evenings. Now what say you - shall we, as they say, party?"

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

Tiberious's eyes are the least inclined to darkness of the party's, making him utterly dependent on the unit's light sources. Despite this, he remains in good spirits, taking meals with the soldiers, going through training exercises, and other mundane interactions.

Towards the end of a day- or night, the hours have long since blurred together underground- Tiberious strolls over to a group of soldiers around a fire and decides that it's story time.

"You know, being underground like this reminds me of the time I agreed to go kill a giant hag for a terrified little village. They sent their best guard with me, guy was a tracking sort. Turns out the hag was in a cave, once we got in there we couldn't see a thing without torches. He was going on and on about how he could shoot a fatal arrow at anything his eyes caught for so much as an instant. Sure enough, the hag must have heard that, snuck up on us, and extinguished his torch. Neither of us could see at all after that, and as I went for my weapon, I heard the sound of him being torn up. She was coming for me next, so I did what any man would do! I followed the scream, picked up his corpse, and beat her to death with it! When I stumbled my way out of the cage and back to the village, I was a hero. Sure, they were sad about the loss of their best guard, but the monstrous hag was no more. It's an important lesson for places like this: just because you can't see with your eyes, doesn't mean you can't see with your muscles."

As Tiberious finishes his story, silence overtakes the camp. Soldiers look back and forth to each other confusedly, saying things like "What the fuck was that?" and "Does he have brain damage?" For the next few days, Tiberious was known by the Ruby Keep soldiers as that loud idiot following the group around.

It was when Tiberious borrowed some chalk to make a sparring ring that he began to regain some of the soldiers' respect. He would enter the ring during downtime, showing off his unusual fighting style and winning bouts against several soldiers at a time, giving tips on form and manliness all the while. While most of his advice was inapplicable to the soldiers (for some reason jumping off the hilt of your weapon to do a hurricarana on a larger enemy just didn't sit well with most of them), he was able to upgrade his status to that loud idiot who's at least a legitimately strong warrior.

And the stories continued. Ludicrous tales ranging from decapitating multiple minotaurs at once to powerbombing orcs off of multi-story buildings. The soldiers couldn't tell what was based in reality and what he was pulling out of his ass, and after a while, they didn't care, finding the stories increasingly entertaining and welcome amidst the monotony of marching through the darkness.

It was at this point that Tiberious told the story of how he protected a baby abandoned in a forest from a flock of harpies by willing himself to fly and ripping their wings off. He ended the tale by saying "Flight is something anyone can achieve! You just have to believe in yourself and the world around you, and reach deeper into the force of manliness than you ever have before! You can fly! You can fly! Everyone here can literally fly! Just put it in your heart, and you can jump off a cliff and fly!" The story riles up the soldiers, and Tiberious heads off to sleep feeling good about himself.

A little later, he is woken up by one of the older, higher ranked soldiers of the group, who looks somewhat angry. "All right Tiberious, enough's enough with your goddamn stories, you're putting ideas in their heads and affecting the efficiency of this operation."

Tiberious looks at the soldier with confusion and says "What do you mean? How can anyone not like story time?" The soldier sighs and says "You know what? It'll be easier to show you, come with me."

The soldier takes Tiberious to a nearby cliff and says "Look down. See anything?"

Tiberious looks down and sees only blackness. "Nope, I can't even see the bottom, what am I looking for?"

At this point the older soldier loses his calm and says "The body of one of my men is down there, you jackass! He got so fired up by your talk of people flying that he jumped off this cliff, fell who knows how many hundreds of feet, and turned into a bloody goddamn paste!"

Tiberious is only more confused now. "So wait, is he a body or a paste?"

"Damnit! That's not important! He wasn't the only one buying into your shit either! Do you know how many other soldiers I had to stop from trying to "fly" tonight?!"

"Thirty million?" Says Tiberious, not having a sense of how many people are in the group, or how many men a single person can reasonably talk to in one night.

The soldier's eyes narrow. "...You're doing this on purpose now, aren't you boy? You think you can just fuck with me because you had a part in rescuing the Queen and are having fun playing hero? No more of that shit! Your foolishness is costing lives, and I am drawing the line right. here!"

Tiberious looks into the chasm again and says "Wait a second. If he jumped down there and you can't see the body, he's probably flying around! It'll be ok mister, he'll just fly back up once he's done."

The soldier stares dumbfounded, unable to say anything as Tiberious skips back to his sleeping quarters. "I don't believe it. That oaf actually believes the shit he's spewing. How has that man not gotten himself killed by now?" With a sense of disgust and a loss of respect for humanity, the old soldier returns to his quarters. He's seen a lot of things, but none of that tells him what to do about Tiberious.

As travels continued, so too did Tiberious's sparring and stories. Fortunately, no more soldiers were harmed in the makings of his tales.

 

[KittenMaster]

<I know it's not the roleplaying style you go for with Tiberious, but that's a good, very self-aware post.>

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((Thanks. I thought being dumb and telling increasingly absurd stories was pretty square in Tiberious's character, though it was fun to also try writing from the perspective of soldiers getting confused and frustrated with his antics))

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((I'm a bit late, but happy new year everyone!))

 

[KittenMaster]

<I'm gonna make midnight the cutoff before I move on.

Also, I decided to cut a bit of endgame out because SPOILER:

Spoiler

I think the players have already done enough/have the tools to prevent it entirely

and I doubt it would have been that great anyway. This means you're on the home stretch to ending the game entirely.>

 

[DeadPhoenix]

After the 'Gravytees' incident, Draco starts spending more of his time with the more arcane inclined members of the army. There he gets involved in all sorts of topics that really just serve to make them feel more smug about how much smarter they are then everyone else. Probably more few of them are surprised at just how knowledgeable he is. There are plenty of jokes that would go over the heads of the rest of the army and maybe even some of the younger wizards and probably a bit of flirting here and there. Its all quite a bit different from Draco's usual lonely brooding crap.

 

[KittenMaster]

As the days continue, as the underground exploration begins to branch out to paths. Fortunately, you are aware or eventually manage to remember that your goal is to head to the pool of radiance that lies under Wormwood, and thus utilize magical means of mapping your location and direction to go in relation to the surface maps you have.

Eventually you finally notice sign of activity down in these endless chasms. An unoccupied camp, void of useful supplies or anything of substance. Once you understand this landmark, you continue on.

Finally... after coming across a massive width of land, a line of red, sometimes white eyes begin to light up on the distant side. Torches set ablaze on both sides, revealing a composition of drow, half-orcs, and even other surface races among the opposing army that will sooner or later be met with a collision of blades and flaying of lives.

Frozen in time, and this stand off, only one man dares to move. An ensign scouring the front of the army to meet Dreadstone to salute, "At your word, sir."

---

<Six words: Battle of Alydar 2.0. Each of you will be giving an account of what your character does to fight enemies in this battle and how you fight alongside the Ruby Keep men, and this can be idealized (within reason, of course). Dreadstone will also be able to give commands to his army men to describe what they do in battle.>

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((Whew, that become a wall of text. I think it started to get a bit Mary Sueish there, but it was at least fun to write. Then again, stemming that is part of why I like to play absurd characters

Battle music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTQIogLBFBs))

Moments after the two armies begin fighting, Tiberious raises his seldom-used but shiny longsword and shouts "Finesse is for pussies and gnomes, CHARGE!!" He bolts towards the opposing army with reckless abandon, the gravitas of his straightforwardness drawing some of the Ruby Keep forces to follow to the front he's creating.

Steel clashes with steel, and blood is spilled on both sides. The Ruby Keep forces prove a vital necessity for Tiberious's success. The soldiers draw some of the heat off of him and help to thin the numbers, while the odd spellcaster provides ever useful support. They are a backup force. They are protection from overwhelming numbers. However, they are something yet more important to Tiberious, something that guarantees that he will triumph in a bloody route.

They are an audience.

Upon first clashing with the opposing army, Tiberious launches into a flashy dance of death with his sword. He moves with unexpected agility for a man his size, cutting down several opposing soldiers before blades can be turned against him. A few cuts land from the horde he's positioned himself in the middle of, but if they're hurting him, it's not showing.

As more eyes gather upon him, he becomes more ferocious. Sliding on his scizore with one hand while punching out a would-be assailant with the other, he lets loose a monstrous bellow and charges, impaling soldiers until there is no more room left on his weapon. With no signs of him slowing down, the Orphan soldiers surrounding him begin to have reservations, causing him to egg them on. "Don't stop now, I'm just getting to the fun part!" As more soldiers move in, he holds his arm out and begins to spin around, using the mass of soldiers stuck on his scizore as a meat bludgeon to force them away.

The spectacle causes enemy soldiers to begin gawking, which only feeds his power. With a small bubble made around him, Tiberious drops the weapon and pulls out his flying blade, creating a whirlwind of death around him and doubling the cleared space. Archers begin firing arrows at him, but those that aren't cut down seem to do little to stop him. With a thirst for blood in his eyes, he walks towards the archers, bringing the spinning hellsphere he's made around himself with him. Most of the archers retreat, but some are cut down.

The attacks continue, but it's questionable whether Tiberious even feels pain right now. The fact that it is impossible how much of the blood covering his body belongs to him and how much belongs to soldiers only furthers the notion that he has the durability of a bear. No, were he that easy to kill there would yet be hope for the Orphans. They have been thrown into an arena for execution, left to face a wild animal tearing them limb from limb.

By now, the Ruby Keep soldiers near him are doing less fighting than they are cheering on for him. When the voices reach a sufficient mass, he draws the weapons gifted to him by the Avatar of Kord and redoubles his fury, beginning to fight his way towards enemy wizards. He moves like a well-oiled killing machine, parrying attacks coming from many angles with the mace while driving the spear through the throats and hearts of those that draw too close. Spells begin to fall around him, ranging from fire and ice to more devious magics designed to sap his strength. He manages to shrug off several, but one eventually takes, causing him to buckle and giving the Orphan soldiers a chance to dogpile and begin stabbing away.

Gasps come from the Ruby Keep forces, followed by chants of "Thunderface! Thunderface!" coupled with stomping and clapping. To the horror of the soldiers, Tiberious busts through, grabbing one soldier and bouncing him off the ground, only to jump into the air and onto his back. He then rides the man like a surfboard over a crowd of soldiers before they all crash. The reality is that the cheering mages of Ruby Keep frantically casted a coordinated cocktail of healing magic and counterspells for the enervation, but to the Orphans, it appeared to be some sort of hellish anti-miracle, as if Tiberious was powered by the cheering of the audience.

Back in high spirits, Tiberious mixes brutality with flourishes, spinning around before chopping off limbs and slicing armor open. He lands next to a mage and speaks loud enough for his audience to hear. "Never to fear, noble crowd! Thanks to your belief in me, I've found the weakness of these magic types!" The mage gives a sneer and raises his hands to cast again, only for Tiberious to step in and cut his hands off. While he's in shock, Tiberious says "Try sapping my muscles now, you damn bookworm," and lops his head off. Another round of cheers erupt from the Ruby Keep forces.

Tiberious makes a show of killing more of their forces when he sees a familiar face; the man who ran a lance through him back on monster island. With a dramatic point, Tiberious yells "You! I made a promise on what I'd do when I next saw you again!" Tiberious begins cutting a path to the man. The soldier tries to retreat while the Ruby Keep forces become increasingly vested in the bloody spectacle. He eventually runs out of room to run, and Tiberious brings down his falcata with a dramatic swing, seemingly missing.

The soldier looks surprised, but then thinks luck is on his side. "Looks like you've finally run out steam. Who'd have thought I get to kill the prized beast twice?" Tiberious lets out a small laugh and points at a small cut he made, reaching through his armor and slightly into his torso. "What, you thought I was trying to kill you with that? I was just making an opening, I've got something special planned for the man who thought he could silence Thunder."

With that, Tiberious's hands shoot forward, his fingers piercing into both sides of the crack. With his muscles bulging, Tiberious begins to forcibly stretch the gap,slowly tearing the man open and leaving him helpless to fight back. With his stomach eventually torn open, Tiberious yanks out his intestines and begins to garrote the man with them. As the life leaves his eyes, Tiberious looks at him and says "You know, now that we're here, I'm not sure if I told you I was going to strangle you with your own intestines next time I saw you, or if it was someone else. No matter! Done is done."

With the final kill for his little patch of the battlefield done, Tiberious stands triumphant amidst the sea of corpses, having fashioned a victor's crown from the man's entrails. Looking at both ally and enemy in the surrounding field, he roars "Are you not entertained?"

Much of his Ruby Keep audience is aghast at the finale, and horror becomes mixed in with the adulation he's been receiving. Nonetheless, the cheering does not stop, and when a chance is presented, qualified members of the force begin tending to Tiberious's substantial wounds, healing him up for the next round of battle.

After all, a performer's work is never done.

 

[ThLunarian]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDb5WGZQMtY

Tiberious's.... bold.... decision to charge ahead with reckless abandon seems to work out well after all. With the enemy's morale compromised, Thaddeus seeks to press the advantage.

He assembles a collection of the heaviest-armoured, stoutest fighters among the force and directs them to receive blessings from the resident clerics, and then he begins a brisk, orderly march forward. His intention is to create a seemingly-impenetrable wall of highly-disciplined, well-protected fighters.

The tactic is successful. Their phalanx-like formation presses upon the enemy and forces them back, none willing to be the first to confront such a well-oiled machine.

Inevitably, however, as is typical of large-scale battles, the formation breaks down, and chaos becomes the order of the day. The Orphans are a well-trained bunch, but they seem unable to combat the ruthless efficiency and time-honoured training traditions of the Ruby Keep Military.

As he finishes off an opponent and scans for the next, out of the corner of his eye, Thaddeus sees a figure that seems.... strangely familiar.

A woman? he thinks to himself, twisting his head to find her again but unable to do so. In combat? And without a weapon?

He wracks his brain to think. He was fairly sure that her hair was short, and unnaturally white, especially for one so young. The hair was a stark contrast to her rather dark skin. Somehow he knew she was human, and yet he could not say exactly how he knew, for he did not get a good look at her ears.

Another glimmer in the other corner of his eye. This was another familiar figure - a male, wearing a very fashionable ensemble, befitting a.... a sorceror?

Again he whips his head around, and again the figure isn't there.

"....Niko?" he says quietly. "And Stricia...?"

A morningstar smashes into the side of Thaddeus's helmeted head, sending him reeling. He feels as though the ground is being pulled up toward him. He summons up the emergency reserves of his willpower and directs the power of Heironeous to heal the damage that has been done. His sixth sense takes over, and he rolls over quickly, to avoid another, crushing morningstar blow. A precision legsweep sends his assailant crashing to the ground, and a gauntleted fist to the half-orc's windpipe ends things quickly.

Thaddeus stands up and urgently scans the battlefield again. He calls to a nearby ally who is not embroiled in battle. "Have you seen a woman with white hair?"

The half-elf only looks at him in confusion. "What?!"

Thaddeus frowns and looks in another direction, just in time to find three Orphans approaching him together. He fastens his grip on the Sunsword and activates his armour, growing to four times his normal size.

By the time he has dispatched of all three attackers, Thaddeus feels that his memories have returned to him. Stricia and Niko had been traveling with Dreadstone, Tiberious, and Draco, and had accompanied them all partway through the facility on that gods-forsaken island, and then....

Then what?

Had they simply disappeared? And if so, why had no one acknowledged that disappearance?

Equally strange was the fact that he was only just now remembering them, in the form of phantoms on the edge of his vision.

"I suppose there's no time for that now," he says aloud, to no one in particular. "There is a battle to win."

Seeking to take advantage of his temporarily increased size, Thaddeus charges headlong into the thick of things.

 

[Mike M]

((Marysue-ish? Dude, did you read the last game? Val was borderline embarrassing in retrospect, but at least in my defense he was my first attempt at not playing a cornball character.))

((I promise when I eventually DM I'll pick songs from games other than Demon's/Dark Souls, but today is not that day!))

In the theater of the mind, Dreadstone is not at the rear of the army. Even as he stands upon his stony knoll for the minimal height it gives him to oversee the battlefield, he can feel the ghost of combat twinging through his muscles. The familiar burn across his chest born of the steady rhythm of nock/pull/release from firing arrows in a volley as part of an archer unit. The feel of the fletching on his fingers as they seek arrows buried in the quiver at his side. Standing here in command, his hands clasped behind his back as he oversees his troops... It's all he ever wanted in life, and yet it is somehow the most alien sensation he has ever felt.

"Silverlight!" he calls, summoning the half-elf cleric to his side. She comes running over, the clattering of her plate armor audible over even the din of the shouts of the men gearing for the imminent battle, Gnaw nipping at her heels. There is a grim expression on her face.

"You saw how many there are out there?" she asks. Dreadstone only nods. "How bad do you think it is, sir?"

"Plenty bad," the tiefling replies. "But I got a notion that might help turn the tide. Now listen close, I need you t'find as many clerics as y'can. Pull 'em off any duty that's not keepin' the dyin' from dancin' with th'Raven Queen, that's a direct order. Don't just settle fer clerics, either, round up anyone that can contribute. Now here's th'plan..."

---

Chloe listens attentively as Dreadstone explains his gambit, her lips pressed together in determination born of her burning desire to prove herself.

"Got it?" Dreadstone concludes.

"Sir, I'm on it, sir!" Chloe shouts, nearly hitting herself in the forehead with her gauntleted hand as she salutes her commanding officer before dashing off into the darkness.

"Sir!" another soldier calls, coming up to replace Chloe's position in front of Dreadstone, "Sir, we have a complication?"

Dreadstone's eyes narrow. "What sorta complication?" he nearly growls.

"It's the gladiator, sir! Tiberious!" the soldier informs. "He's rushed into the opposing forces like a madman!"

Dreadstone sighs for a moment before raising his voice to be heard by all nearby. "Listen up!" he cries. "I gotta man out in th'thick of things, I need volunteers to either extract 'im or bring back his body!"

"Sir, that's just the thing!" the soldier interrupts, tearing Dreadstone's attention back to him. "He's... He's winning, sir!"

Dreadstone raises his eyes, scanning the horizon of spear tips and banners, searching for his dimwitted companion. There! A knot of confusion and chaos surrounds the raging gladiator, but he seems to be accomplishing the impossible. Truly the most deadly turnip the world has ever born witness to.

"He can't keep that up fer long," he mutters to himself. Turning to his right, he raises his hand. "Archers!" he shouts, pointing just past Tiberious's position, waiting as the banners relay his command. When he drops his hand, a cloud of arrows fly through the air, raining down upon the Orphans' forces. The cavern is large, but no substitute for shooting out in the open air. The darkness and stalactites conspire to reduce the efficacy of the Keep's assault, but at least the volley is partially effective. It's better than nothing.

As Thaddeus leads a heavily armored front line division, Dreadstone confers with the other unit leaders, readying another wall of men and steel to advance forward as Thaddeus's original sortie breaks ranks, the wave of plate armor crashing upon the dark stones of the Orphans. They're making slow progress forward, but Dreadstone has spent enough time in study and drills to recognize that they have only encountered the cannon fodder. The bulk of the Orphans' forces--doubtlessly featuring their more capable units--are still being held in reserve, waiting for the Keep's forces to expend themselves before engaging.

"Form up!" Dreadstone calls, once more waiting as his command is relayed down the lines. "Prepare t'charge!"

The soldiers obey his command, but Dreadstone can detect a nervous undercurrent coursing around him. A full charge against a superior force would be suicide, even the thickest of grunts knows that much. They probably think the tiefling ranger quite mad, or possibly in league with the Orphans himself, but to their credit they still obey. Good men, to the last of them. Dreadstone mourns that he should lose any one of them this day.

"Silverlight!" he bellows. "Now! Do it now!"

Behind the line of Ruby Keep soldiers, a light breaks, like the sun cresting the horizon at dawn. Together, the clerics and assorted other units capable of working the requisite spells pool their divine energies together, and the light grows in size and intensity until a literal sun--albeit one that is much reduced in size--rises into the air above the battlefield, bathing the combatants in brilliant, unrelenting daylight. Caught unawares and without their protective goggles, the Drow among the Orphans recoil in pain and surprise, and even their more sighted companions are left blinking and blinded.

Emboldened, the Ruby Keep soldiers surge forth, falling upon the opposing army with a vengeance. Wisely, the half-orcs and other surface dwellers are targeted first, the rivulets of retreating dark elves turning into streams into torrents as they beat a hasty retreat from the methodical slaughter of their companions and the scalding orb above.

"We're doin' it," Dreadstone whispers, almost in disbelief that his own plan would have succeeded. "We're drivin' 'em back. We can win this!"

 

[DeadPhoenix]

((Should have seen my wizard... of course, being a wizard, OP bullshit is what they do normally anyways.))

((Having just played MGR, I was almost tempting to throw in some of that music too... but since my characters gonna being doing something a bit different, I decided to go with this instead.))

While doesn't consider himself one to shy away from direct combat, jumping in the middle of an army battle doesn't seem like the best idea, much less the best use of his skills.

As Leo and Thaddeus charge into battle, making quite a show of themselves and drawing quite a bit of attention, Draco decides this is the perfect opening. He downs several extracts and a mutagen, then immediately beings to fly towards the enemy's base, as he slowly disappears.

In the future, its like most people making a first hand account of the battle would not have much to say about Draco, some may even claim he ran away like a coward, but the truth is he knew you need more to win a fight then to smash a bunch of meat heads together and hope your meat heads die less then the enemies.

Like Dreadstone, Draco know the importance of taking the indirect approaching and the advantage it can give. Between Leo and Thaddues keeping the main forces busy, and a sun randomly appearing and likely blinding a large portion of the of the drows as well, Draco gets behind enemy lines, making surgical strikes on strategic targets.

A Sabotage siege weapon here.

A commanding officer suddenly disappearing only to be later found dead there.

Supplies suddenly going missing, key strategic suddenly set ablaze for seemingly no reason.

Perhaps in the end, Draco's actions did not win the battle for them, but there is little doubt in his mind many will live to tell the tale thanks to his efforts.

 

[KittenMaster]

<@Draco: go ahead and apply the buffs to your working stats>

 

[DeadPhoenix]

<@Draco: go ahead and apply the buffs to your working stats>

((Alright, done... though a few of the spells do stuff i don't really have stats for, but w/e. also I'm gonna go ahead and guess I should probably skip the round per level spells, as awesome as infinite haste would be.))

 

[KittenMaster]

<basically you have whatever buffs didnt't wear off yet (these aren't permanent in case my earlier wording was unclear)>

 

[KittenMaster]

<Please, Sarm was the most Mary Sue character. Now he's a Flumph as punishment for his Wesley Crushering.>

Even with many a warning, war springs onto the underground surface. Flurries of glowing crystals dance brilliantly in the black as they strike at the others.

Tiberious' impressive slaughter and riling up soldiers with showmanship is soon recoiled by a flank killing any foolish enough to retire as warriors simply to become distracted and stand chanting. Clearly Ruby Keep's enemies aren't as thrilled by the hype generated.

Knowing that Tiberious' luck can only last so long before the Orphan army will adapt to his level of threat and find a way to best him, Dreadstone directs his archers to act as support and funnel their arrows to a compressed flank, taking out a decent number surrounding Tiberious.

All the while Thaddeus begins to incur memories of companions long past, and begins to fight as if they were alongside him. Ruby Keep soldiers remain unknowing of the history of Stricia and Niko.

---

Beyond the noise, beyond chaos and panic, are where the elements of control and pace are left behind at an underground camp. A lanky man wobbles out, barely wearing a wrapping around his crotch and malnourished badly. This orange haired visage of a beggar chugs at a mug hungrily as various men around him are taken into the darkness away from the torches set. Grinning knowingly, Jake tosses his mug to the side, cackling madly at what he sees and steps out with arms spread, screaming joyously "Come out, BOY!!!"

When the mug crashes into the ground, the contents of the liquid grow brilliantly, and crystal begins growing from the puddle made from the splash. The monk's eyes begin to glow brilliantly as they look out for the shadow around.

---

Eventually both sides begin to tire out, and it will eventually down upon the party that Draco is absent. Even with draining numbers, the Orphans won't make it easy to get past them until they're finally wiped out.

Eventually both sides tire. It is finally Dreadstone's gambit come up with by the Clerics to create a false but still brilliant sun that drive many a Drow writing painfully, leaving them open to be overcome by the swordsmen they are engaged with. Many of the non-Drow aren't as affected, but their numbers are smaller, and it soon becomes a more one sided battle in favor of the Keep.

<Pardon me, forgot about what Chloe did which changes things.>

 

[Jackben]

((I feel like Gaston is basically Tiberius' spirit animal))

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

((I saw that thread a few minutes ago, and yeah, pretty much XD

Also, I may have misunderstood the last post, so if the fight is still going on I'll edit accordingly))

With the combat winding down, Tiberious goes looking for his allies to figure out what to do next, not bothering to remove the blood and intestine crown coming from his brutal charge before doing so.

Eventually, he finds some of the others. He'll ask how the fight went for them, and give an embellished version of his own battle including, but not limited to, spontaneously transforming into a giant cassowary with eye beams.

"Oh yeah! Has anyone seen Draco?"
More killin' to be done

 

[DeadPhoenix]

Draco continues to slink around in the shadows, "Boy? I'll have you know I'm older then I look... actually, I guess right now I kind of look like an elf, so I'm probably younger then I look. Also, I'm invisible, so I could have been a girl for all you knew. How presumptuous of you, sir."

 

[KittenMaster]

Jake leaps high into the air, only a second later to land closer to where Draco is in proximity. He continues to cackle drunkenly, wobbling his upper body back as he gloats, "Tryin' to look like nothing isn't the same as having nothing! I still have much to lose.." His voice lowers to a near hiss, "Think you can take everything I have left from me, foolish kid?"

Jake doesn't seem to have spotted Draco exactly, only having used his voice to get an idea where he is at, beginning to scour the wrong direction around Draco's hiding spots.

 

[Mike M]

((Any of the rest of us seeing/hearing this?))

 

[KittenMaster]

((Any of the rest of us seeing/hearing this?))

<Nope, you're still finishing off the battle. Technically it hasn't ended and you still need to secure victory, but you are on the way to winning.

Make posts describing how you secure your victory.>

 

[DeadPhoenix]

"Sorry, but I don't know or care who you are, but there is one thing I do want to take from you, can you guess what it is?" Draco asks as he lunges out of the shadows with a studied strike on the poor drunk bastard.

 

[KittenMaster]

<Make an attack roll, vs. flat footed AC.>

 

[DeadPhoenix]

Attack: 1D20+9+7+3+4+1+2+6 => 41
Damage: 1D6+7+4+6+ 5D6 => 42
((Invis castle down again, so i just used rolz.org))

 

[KittenMaster]

<Invisible Castle never let me do some things like look at roll logs, so I am planning on ditching it entirely anyway.

Waiting on everyone else to post before continuing with Draco.>

 

[Axelhortsemchi]

The battle seems to be going well, as less and less Orphans are entering Tiberious's magical land of death. On the one hand, this is a good thing, as it means Ruby Keep is winning. On the other, it means the allied guards around him will get bored.

Tiberious recalls a line formation Thaddeus was leading at one point in the mayhem. He liked what he saw, but it was missing something. It lacked style; an injection of pizzazz would make it perfect. With a quick shout, Tiberious gathers some of the nearby Ruby Keep guards.

"Alright, guys! There's not enough Orphans left for things to be exciting, so it's time for you to make some excitement! I'm going to show you some moves, all of you follow along and you'll be a flashy, stylish line of Orphan slaughtering!"

With this, Tiberious starts a beat by stomping, and holds his falcata like a microphone. "Slice! Stab! It's a simple thing. More Orphans to come? The pain we'll bring! Move like thunder, leave them in wonder, some stragglers are coming, now show them there blunder and slice!" Tiberious proceeds to swing his blade with a diagonal cut, cleaving one of the Orphans foolish enough to still be coming his way. A few moments later, the line of soldiers confusedly swing their swords in the same motion, not too sure what's going on. "Slice?" The synchronization is questionable at best.

"Stab!" Tiberious moves from his first attack to a stab on the dying foe in front of him. "Stab?" The Ruby keep guards all thrust out at once, taking some of the enemies approaching the line. The synchronization, while better than the initial swing, leaves much to be desired.

"Spin!" says Tiberious as he twirls around the Orphan's corpse, holding his shield up. By now, the line is starting to understand. "Spin!" Shouts the line in unison, as they all twirl with their shields, deflecting some of the arrows flying around the battlefield. "Now step!" Shouts Tiberious, taking a step forward! "Step!" Shout the soldiers in unisonOh! think several of the guardsmen at once. I thought this was some kind of weird dance, but it must be some deadly gladiator secret to advancing along the battle lines!

Tiberious is pleased. "Good, you're all getting it! Once more now!" he shouts, having them go through the four moves again, further pressing the remaining Orphans. The formation is going smoothly, so Tiberious decides to add more to it. "Your moves are good, but we ain't fighting wood! They're going to adapt, so do what you should and parry!" "Parry!" Shout the soldiers as they all raise their swords defensively at once, deflecting the attacks of some Orphans who tried to strike based on the openings of the prior routine. "Riposte!" shouts Tiberious. "Riposte!" The guards cut down the parried orphans all at once. "Sheathe!" Tiberious shouts, slamming his weapon into the ground. "Sheate!" The soldiers plunge their weapons into the dying orphans at their feet. "And pose!" Tiberious says, holding his weapon into the air. The soldiers see no point to posing, but he hasn't lead them astray so far. "Pose!" the soldiers hold their weapons to the sky in unison, pulling them out of the corpses more quickly than they otherwise could by doing so.

"Wow, you guys are good! If you're all that talented, no wonder gladiators don't have jobs around here." With the line in high spirits, Tiberious continues to lead the rhythmic formation through the battlefield, cleaning up Orphans and supplying aid to bogged down fronts as they go.

 

[ThLunarian]

((I see what you did there...))


The dust begins to settle around the battlefield as the Orphans are annihilated by the superior force. Thaddeus experiences some discomfort from the makeshift sun illuminating the landscape, but his years on the surface mitigate the effects drastically.

The same cannot be said for his blood-kin.

Thaddeus single-handedly slices through a line of four visually-compromised Drow and easily parries an attack by a young, over-eager half-orc. Elsewhere, distantly, he hears a cadre of men breaking into a bizarre song, but he knows that now is not the time to celebrate. These Orphans were sent to protect someone, and though they have failed at ceasing the assault, they can surely delay it if they are smart.

An intimidating roar bellows forth from the far end of the battlefield. In the distance, Thaddeus sees a massive humanoid creature charging forward. It takes only seconds for the heavily-armoured, giant ogre to come into view. It wields a massive rock, suitable for a catapult, in the palm of its grotesquely oversized hand. Thick chains fly freely from the creature's arms, the remnants of whatever restraints had held this monster at bay prior to the battle.

Thaddeus frowns and looks around. The men around him - Ruby Keep and Orphan alike - are either withdrawing, or deathly afraid for their lives. A quick survey of his comrades tells him that none are ready to take on such a beast.

He pauses only to take a deep breath, and then he charges forward, his Sunsword held aloft and fully charged with the righteous might of Heironeous.

A less disciplined man might let out a battle cry to match that of the ogre, but not this Paladin. His lips are silent; his eyes are determined. He knows that brute force alone will not be enough to win this fight, because to battle on those terms would be to cede a massive advantage to the opponent. This fight will only be won by concentration, discipline, intelligence, and sheer grit.

Finally the monstrous creature - well over twenty feet tall - reaches Thaddeus, and the fight is on. It begins by swinging the rock in a wide, clumsy arc, which nonetheless covers a troubling amount of ground. An opportune duck, coupled with a smart placement of his shield to deflect the very edge of the swing, leaves Paladin unharmed.

A quick stab to the ogre's knee, between the plates of its armour, draws first blood, but it is all that Thaddeus has time for. A savage kick meets thin air as the Drow narrowly sidesteps an enormous foot.

An opening. The ogre is off-balance from such a forceful kick. Thaddeus extends his sword arm and spins; the blade of his sword smashes into the armoured plates on the back of the other leg's armour, but the force of the blow is not enough to make it lose its balance. Already committed to the plan, Thaddeus has no choice but to continue his forward momentum and attempt to push the creature over.

Given additional time, he would have succeeded. Unfortunately, the ogre has other plans. It reaches down with its free hand and fully envelops Thaddeus's head. It briefly tries to squeeze, but fortunately the paladin's battered helmet is still structurally sound enough to make that plan fail. Instead, it yanks him out from under its body and holds him precariously still while the rock-wielded fist extends backward to prepare for a killing blow.

Sensing that the end will come swiftly if something drastic doesn't happen, Thaddeus activates the secondary power of his armour, causing it to illuminate in a burst of searing light, far brighter (but less far-reaching) than the sun over head. The ogre shrieks from sudden blindness and ever-so-slightly loosens its grip from Thaddeus's head...

This is all the opening he needs. Thaddeus wrenches himself free with a full-body twist, and uses the momentum to activate the full power of the Sun Sword, which also lights up in tandem with the armour. He cuts clean through the armoured wrist of the ogre, and its hand falls ineffectually to the ground.

Continuing the spin, he jumps almost supernaturally high, and this time carves deeply into the creatures chest.

He is not quite done; his momentum carries him ever-further upward and he continues to spin, and the final cut lops the head clean off of the ogre.

Thaddeus lands cleanly on the ground in a kneeling position, his head down, his sword arm extended sideways and outward. Behind him, the headless body of the ogre crashes to the ground.

He stands up, dusts himself off, and looks for more orphans to rout.

 

[KittenMaster]

<Draco, go ahead and act your first turn.>

 

[DeadPhoenix]

After Draco's invisibility wears off due to his initial attack, he seems to continues to be slightly transparent(not enough to give him concealment... but he does currently have dr 10/slashing). He then steps away from the old man and his arm begin to stretch out as he attacks from just out of Jake's reach(only 10' reach so he can still 5' to me).

He also spends a point of inspiration to reactivate studied combat.
Attack: 1D20+9+7+3+4+1+6 => 36
Damage: 1D6+7+4+6 => 22
2nd Attack(Crit Threat): 1D20+9+7+3+4+1+6 => 47
2nd Attack(Crit confirm): 1D20+9+7+3+4+1+6 => 49
2nd crit Damage: 2D6+14+8+6 => 35

((Either that crit confirmed or I missed him completely... most likely))

 

[KittenMaster]

<... I got nothing. I feel like rolling dice will be a waste of time with DR 10/Slashing vs. a Monk and attempting a Grapple is metagaming.>

Draco pulls out his blade from Jake's back, and following the rejection from the man's body, the blood that ejects from his skin quickly dries with a glowing sensation, and soon crystalizes around the wound. The fighter quickly springs in a turn around into a cartoonishly elongated hand that gushes the blade it grips into his shoulder. Jake begins to laugh hoarsely at this, and coughs, "H-how did you lose at the Bay..? You're not bad."

The master martial artist attempts to grasp the elongated arm of his opponent, only for it to slip from him, pulling away the blade as well, causing yet another crystalized injury protruding from him. With abandon, the drunken stance gains momentum from his weary tiredness and shifts into an attempt to move in nearly a fluid way, turning over his body to take a step and reach from his back near the ground to try to swipe at the liquid being only to be evaded effortlessly as water. He follows with a kick that twists his body over, only managing to inch a toe away... It is in those moments that show water has bested wine. Jake collapses onto the ground against his side, looking up at Draco, and tells him, holding back a painful whimper in his breath, "I have never known what it is like to have nothing. These creatures fighting, they have less than beggars.. no homes, no one to give them anything, no sympathy.. Even among them I feel privileged.."

He begins to chuckle and drops onto the ground, throwing a faint chuckle at the endless darkness above, "Thanks to you, I now know what having nothing is.. You took my life.. and you even took from me a last fight."

Crystals begin to form, outlining Jake's body as he is bled out. The man begins to cackle joyfully for a moment only to choke mercilessly on his own bile. As crystals form around his mouth where blood coughed has spilled, Jake's energy rapidly fades to a still, and his body and face eventually become motionless.

 

[DeadPhoenix]

"Sorry old man, I didn't come here for your amusement, or a fair fight." Draco says to no one, as he takes a sip of whatever drink he had left... which he promptly spits it out. "Damn, that is some strong shit." the half elf exclaims before finally taking his leave.