Excalibur: a NeoGAF Pathfinder Play by Post Campaign

"So we finally meet Sapphire... You've brought a lot of soldiers just to kill a couple of men, I take it you have something else in mind for us?"
 
<Probably enough that if you all were a tetris piece, they could encompass you and prevent any possible movement (with possible extras to spare). The generic guys are also a comparable level and gear compared to you, and they do have some mounted spellcasters.

Originally this would have been a possible battle should you guys do something to make them fight you, but due to recent events I decided to just railroad this one and make things roleplay based.>
 
Thaddeus surveys the crowd, and quickly determines that the odds would not currently be favorable in a fight. The enemy has a clear advantage.

Any fighting force is only as effective as their commanding officer, though, and in this case the commanding officer has put herself in a relatively vulnerable position. Wars have been lost on account of one general or the other having a bad day. If he could somehow put this Sapphire person on tilt...

"With all due respect, My Lady, perhaps you could direct us to your husband? The negotiating table is no place for a woman, and I'm sure you'd agree that there is much talking to be done on this day."
 
Dreadstone nods curtly to the mounted woman. Had to be calvary... he thinks inwardly. There was no way he could see for them to come out ahead of this match up.

But they were still alive, so that probably meant she had no intention of killing them just yet.

"My heart's my own business," he drawls. "The Keep done called me back into active service on account of all the trouble you done been stirrin' up, is all. The sooner I drop you off on Dortumn's doorstep, the sooner I can get back on with my life."

He pauses long enough to survey her armed contingent once more. Definitely a no win scenario. "I humbly accept yer surrender," he says with a smirk.
 
Not one to be deterred by things like impossible odds, Tiberious rests his hand on one of his many weapons and glares towards the woman on horseback. "I have no idea who you are, but if Deadstone and Draco were warned about you, you must be a pretty bad person. So, do you think your swarm can stop us before we take your head?"
 
The woman regards Dreadstone's apathy, "You mean a life without your wife and child? A life where the only respect your race gets are the women of your kind and how they perform in bed while you continue to make enemies through your bounty hunting? I even know some of your past scandals which have ruined you." Her voice begins to level her tone, "To think, you were a great inspiration in my uprising, but a wise saying is knowing that the heroes you meet are never like you imagined.. I would have been honored to have you in my ranks, Demon of the Keep, but now you have established yourself as our enemy."

Scoffing at the Drow, she says, "Trying to be ironic, are we? Your true nature is to bow to a queen, but you've taken up a kind of chivalry that had died along with the god you continue to champion. Like the Demon alongside you, you were held back by the system and driven into obscurity, where even I did not know about you until recently. But I do not see a Drow that should stand along us, I only see another Ruby Keep loyalist."

Answering the brash one, she says, "You already failed to kill Loinel. What makes you think you will kill me? I don't think you realize that we are very, very prepared to fight this war, and even prepared to take defeats." After a pause, her tone shifts ever so slightly, "And besides, we have failed to stop you from attacking the breeding facility here, but we have successfully stopped you from having any option to return to the Kingdom. We don't need to kill you. I'm here to warn you to stay out of our way."

Finally, after hearing the name 'Sapphire' mentioned, she almost looks genuinely puzzled, "Sapphire...? Oh..! That name.. Lucretia Sapphire, a cover name given to me to appear as though I am a child birthed with the Queen's letter..." Giving a sharp look, she announces boldly, "Allow me to properly introduce myself!"

She allows you the privilege of knowing.

"I am Excalibur, leader of the Orphans."
 
"Warning received," says Thaddeus. "It is, however, my duty to inform you that you are guilty of High Treason. I suggest you enjoy your freedom while you still can, my lady."
 
<Gonna go ahead and respond to Thaddeus since most of you are probably asleep.>

Excalibur perks up at the warning given. She is immediately compelled to remark, almost angrily, "You know nothing of freedom and slavery, surface dark elf. You offend me with talk of justice when Hieroneus' clergy is a ruined chapel, clung to by vines rooted from a seed of hypocrisy, and the Kingdom itself is guilty of the most high treason one can fathom."

She glances over to her men, turning on her horse, "I am convinced these tools of the Kingdom are only interested in acting as naive tough guys. It is best we return."

<One more chance to have dialogue before they teleport away, though don't expect much.

Also, edited a previous post to clarify wording a bit more on one bit.>
 
Draco begins fuming and decides to give this Excalibur a piece of his mind, "Naive? Naive? I'll be the first to admit that Ruby Keep is full of useless sacks of shit, which is why they needed us in the first place. But you know why I agreed to help them anyways? Because despite your groups high and mighty attitude about how you are suppose to be better then them, all I see you doing is making a power grab though a random acts of stupidity. Seriously, creating an army of intelligent animals with god blood? And you hired two psychos to run it for you? And we are the naive ones... Now you are gonna run off so we get stuck on this island for a couple more days. Oh no, it'll take us an extra week to destroy you little toy soldier army. Really, if you weren't scared of us, you would have tried to kill us already. Oh wait, I'm sorry, I hope my tough guy act didn't hurt your delicate sensibilities again." You can probably feel the sarcasm dripping from that last line.

((Draco didn't get up to 20 int just to be called naive by the next person he meets....))
 
((It's ok, Tiberious is naive enough to cover the whole party))

"Hah! Like you're the first person to call me naive. The whole reason I took up adventuring was to stop evildoers like you. The only reason I'm working with the military is because they're going after groups like yours right now. Right now? They're the good guys. They said so. I can tell from how stubborn Dortumn gets that he cares."
 
Thaddeus nods along with Draco and Tiberious, adding, "Your arrogance will be your undoing, Lady Excalibur. I shall pray to Heironeous that you come to your senses before you find yourself on the wrong end of a longsword. May the gods watch over you."
 
Dreadstone lets Saphir—no, Excalibur’s—jibes and barbs wash over him. It seems that there’s never any shortage of people in this world who somehow think it a worthwhile endeavor to get a rise out of the tiefling. People ignorant of the toughness of his hide, both metaphorically and literally.

“Sorry to disappoint, darlin’,” he says evenly, “but I think if you were fixin’ to model yerself after me in stagin’ this rebellion, you musta missed the point about what I’m all ‘bout. I don’t need you to tell me that the world’s a nasty place, I’ve been livin’ in its gutters since the day my momma tried to strangle me with the umbilical cord. I done came up from the bottom, and I seen every variety of cruelty and inhumanity there is along the way. The world’s unjust and I drew the short straw, I know that. But I also know that the world needs people like me, people who have dwelled in the shit and awfulness, because we’re the only ones who understand how it all works. We’re the only ones who knows what it takes to keep all that awfulness at bay, we eat that shit so fancy folk like you don’t have to. Because someone’s got to.”

Narrowing his eyes, he fixes Excalibur with a silvery glare. “The Keep is the furthest thing in the world from perfect, but you don’t go tearing it all down because it ain’t good ‘nough. You may think you can rebuild the perfect society or whatever, but only because you don’t know any better. There’s always goin’ to be that darkness out there, and there’s always goin’ to be that need for dogs like me. You go ahead and scurry on home then, leave us trapped on yer island of monsters. I’m still comin’ for you. An’ I’ll never stop comin’ for you, not until I’m dead or you’re in chains.”
 
<Actually it's over 2 hours long, gonna go ahead and post while I watch.>

Excalibur starts with Dreadstone first, drawn by what the hardened Tiefling had to say, "So one among you can make a compelling statement after all. When I said you were an inspiration, I had meant not just in a heroic sense, but also that you were the very kind of person I wanted to help give a better life. It was the bravery of the half-orcs that had liberated themselves from the shackles of oppression that inspire my acts."

"Make no mistake. Once our revolution has finished and the future is built, we will be there to fight the darkness coming."

She next turns to the half-elf, visibly unimpressed by his bravado. Humored, her expression raises in answer, "So you only need little days to flee the island, and only a bit more to take us down..?" She turns to the cavalry surrounding the party, "It seems that these people clearly know something I don't about how they plan on getting off the island. I had wanted to avoid confrontation but it seems that we are left no choice if we are to stop you..."

Raising her sword up, she gives signal to her men, "Kill them."

<Pause for OOC reactions before we roleplay out this battle.>
 
Oh well, roleplay fight so we are winning anyways.))
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<Oh no, you are losing (which is kinda why I wanted to avoid this confrontation), I'm just giving you a chance to roleplay defending yourselves and warding off attacks.>
 
"Darlin', I don't need you or anyone like you to give me a better life. My life is only what I've chosen to make of it, nothin' anyone coulda done 'bout that."

Dreadstone's hand goes for his bow as Excalibur's sword goes up into the air. By the time "them" leaves her lips, his arrows are already aloft.
 
Draco stuff an extract in one of Dreadstones pockets, explaining "Extract of fly, wasn't expecting to need it today, but I figure you can make the best use of it... Also, sorry, didn't think I'd press her buttons this easily." then downing his mutagen. "Bring it, fuckers!"
 
((Well, this wound up becoming kind of Mary Sue-ish. I wanted his last stand to involve cycling through all of his weapons, and it just spun out of control. Also, I'm not saying I'm actually giving up all of his weapons if we somehow survive this/get revived. It just seemed the best way to roleplay it out))

Tiberious looks slightly surprised as the kill order is given. "Damn Draco, I'll have to get lessons from you on how to goad people once we get out of this mess. Let's kill some Orphans!"

Tiberious grabs his newfound lance and rushes forward, impaling a soldier with a luckily placed blow before he has a chance to gain any momentum. As Tiberious is starting to think that this may be his new favorite weapon, several more men descend upon him, knocking his lance away. Not deterred by close quarters fighting, Tiberious draws his longsword and shield before attacks and reign down on him and cuts at the warrior closest to him.

Fuck, he doesn't go down. These guys looked well equipped, but they know how to fight too. This could be bad. Fighting with wreckless abandon, Tiberious downs one of the three soldiers surrounding him while sustaining some injuries. The soldier he struck down knocks away his longsword with his dying breath. Undeterred, Tiberious pulls out his whip and pulls one of the other two to the ground, leaving himself open to the remaining soldier while doing so. He's able to bash the fallen soldier's head in, and now turns his attention to- oh fuck! A volley of arrows. Tiberious tries to use the dead bodies around him as cover, but gets skewered pretty bad. Fortunately, so did the remaining soldier. He's not sure if that was friendly fire or Dreadstone, but he appreciates it regardless. He needs the moment to step back and drink a healing potion or two.

He barely has time to do this when he feels a spell burning through his body. Horseback wizards? Really? He needs to kill that wizard, but more men are rushing him. Trying to catch his breath, he pulls out his flying blade and creates a circle around him to keep the new attackers out. This buys him a little time, but the experienced men quickly close the gap, making his weapon useless. He is forced to drop it and try out the greatsword he found off the lizardmen. It's unwieldy, yet powerful, allowing him to force his way past one of the soldiers and break the circle around him. This isn't possible without taking yet more injuries and losing the sword in the process.

Tiberious should be dead by now. Anyone with reason would be. Reason hasn't mattered up until now though, and he's not about to start here. Hallucinating from his injuries, he sees the boundless numbers as a crowd, roaring for him to not go down. Eager to keep the fight going, he dawns his scizore and launches into a flashy sequence, distracting the nearby soldiers well enough to land some blows and get him closer to the wizard. Running towards the wizard, he is shot at by yet more arrows. He's successful in using his scizore to reflect most of them, but an arrow hits the latch, knocking it off his arm. Left with only his cestus, he slides it on and jumps toward the horse, putting his whole body behind the punch.

He succeeds in pissing off the horse and sending it into a run as he frantically clings on, trying not to get hit by scorching rays. He can't climb it with one hand. It pains him, but he has to drop his last weapon. Climbing on to the horse, a critically wounded Tiberious lunges at the wizard before he can cast any killing spells. Tiberious manages to clinch his head as they fly off the front of the horse, causing the wizard to fly off with him and get trampled under the horse.

Coughing blood, Tiberious staggers to his feet and surveys the damage he's done, thinking this is another victory. His remaining confidence is drained away when he sees that he has done next to nothing to their numbers, and that numerous more foes are rushing his way.

"Fuck, looks like those lessons from Draco are going to have to wait." Reaching down to snap the dying wizard's neck, he stands back up, looks toward the foes charging his way, and holds his head high. "A man should die with blood on his hands and a smile on his face. I shall ride the blood of my foes straight to the heavens!"
 
<Alex, you realize that I was actually going to direct this battle, right? Not that I'm trying to take away your glory or anything just that I was going to do a back and forth between DM and players>
 
((Oh, my bad. I didn't realize that. I interpreted roleplaying our defenses as roleplaying a last stand. I'll redo a prep post once I'm out of the shower and pretend that last one didn't happen))
 
Giganto post
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(Yeah, that's definitely how this will go down. It's a heroic, manly death I can live with,) Tiberious thinks to himself. "Draco, remind me to get advice from you on how to piss off foes once we get out of this. Now, I believe we have some orphans to kill.

Tiberious readies his newfound lance, waiting to skewer the first enemy that gets in range. "I like these odds."
 
Thaddeus frowns. He's been fairly certain this entire time that this battle has rather long odds for them to win, and thus was relieved when Excalibur had decided to pull out. The last word he'd uttered to her was only to avoid suspicion and keep up appearances; though he did believe in what he said, his years of experience told him that he would be entirely unable to enforce it.

However, it seemed that someone had taken it too far with the taunting, and now here Thaddeus finds himself on the wrong end of a very lopsided battle.

"Heironeous protect me," he grumbles, summoning his god's holy energy to imbue Demonsbane with divine power. "Heironeous protect us all."
 
Excalibur lifts her oversized blade with a backwards grip, twisting herself to pull the crystal surface against the impact of the arrows, deflecting them as though she had used a tower shield. She answers the first shot by propelling the blade high into the air, and invoking its magical power. Magic missiles bolt from the weapon, aimed to shatter the mutagen before it can be ingested and at Dreadstone's bow, knocking it from his grip.

She points her blade over from her high ground, calling out in inspiring voice, "Show them I lead the finest warriors in the lands! Be their last example of excellence in battle!!"

Their invigoration and morale brings movement and cheer from the soldiers, as they begin to circle around the party on horse, spears and halberds held high in stead. Wizards follow, casting spells that dramatically make the abilities and bodies of the soldiers even more impressive.

Once they are prepared.. they begin their attacks.

Draco, Thaddeus, and Tiberius are met with cavalry circling them, striking from above as they ride by with lengthy weapons. Just as one strikes, he is out of the way and another rides in to strike in response to your movement. The blades easily scrape your bodies and armor, wearing you down little by little as they fight safely.

Excalibur climbs from her horse, and steadily moves towards Dreadstone with her sword held high, anticipating a close fight with the Ranger.
 
Thaddeus sucks in air as a serrated spear tip lacerates his arm. A quick word of divine channeling closes the wound, but this cannot continue for long.

He slows his breathing and focuses. The men on horseback are unassailable, but the horses themselves....


He studies the patterns of the beasts for a scant few seconds - all he can afford -, then lunges forward, cutting in a straight line across two legs from one of the horses. With any luck, the limbs will be lopped off at the knee, ideally sending the horse tumbling and its rider falling hard to the ground, where he can be properly dealt with.
 
((Crap, I had this big huge battle written out before I realized this was going to be a back and forth thing. Ah well, I can probably still use a lot of it))

Dreadstone nods grimly as Excalibur approaches, drawing his own greatsword and adopting a sideways-facing stance. It minimizes the amount of his body facing his opponent; an ideal posture for fighting in narrow alleys and other confined spaces, but of minimal advantage in a wide open space such as this.

Gnaw whines plaintively at Dreadstone's side, his attention divided between the approaching armored woman and the galloping horses around them. "Go on, boy," the tiefling snaps, his voice choked. "Get. Find Baldur."

Gnaw lowers his head and whines as he backs away, barking once before breaking into a run for the tree line. Dreadstone honestly doesn't know how much the dog understood, but it was enough for now to get the critter off the battlefield.
 
Tiberious flourishes the lance the party found and tries to strike at the riders with stylized thrusts, but they're too fast. For every one he manages to hit, five or more get by unscathed. Meanwhile, virtually all of them are landing attacks against the party successfully. The small wounds are piling up, but Tiberious does his best to ignore them. If there's anything he's good at besides putting on a show, it's taking a beating.

His frustration is about to get the best of him when he notices Thaddeus's strategy of targeting the horses instead of the riders. That's brilliant! A lightbulb goes off in Tiberious's head, for he now knows what he has to do to win the crowd.

He looks at his lance, and jams the hild into the ground besides him, so it juts out at an angle. The cavalrymen would see a readied lance and an attempt to impale their horses coming, but if they don't and one rides into his planted lance anyway? Bonus. "A man never does things the easy way," Tiberious grumbles mostly to himself as he widens his legs and goes into a wide stance.

The next attack is coming, and doing what he plans, Tiberious has no way of dodging it. He grits his teeth as the blade digs into him, and to the surprise of the cavalrymen, grabs the horse of the attacker. Straining every muscle in his body and digging his feet deep, he is able to keep his arms around the horse's head and prevent it from escaping. Now for the hard part. A horse is usually too heavy to lift, even for a man of Tiberious's strength. Usually. From his time in the arena, Tiberious has learned how to turn the excitement and bewilderment of the crowd into sheer momentum, allowing him to throw the unthrowable. Feeding off the alarmed reactions of the cavalrymen and the crowd in his head, Tiberious lifts the horse, rider and all, off of the ground. Unable to hold this for long, he lets momentum do its job, sending the horse behind him as he successfully suplexes it. Both horse and rider are now on the ground, and while this only dealt with a single foe, the display hopefully bewildered the cavalrymen's allies enough to create some openings.
 
((Interestingly enough, attacking the horse isn't that effective unless you focus multiple attacks on a single one... anyways.))

Seeing that going on the offensive is not going to work, Draco pulls out his scimitar and goes into a defensive stance. Hopefully he'll be able to survive along enough to get a few lucky shots.
 
A horse topples about as one bravely slices at its knees, a smart move to tackle a single cavalry man, but this squad formation quickly closes the temporary gap in vulnerability, with an oncoming rider next in line to help his comrade, deliberately trampling Thaddeus with his horse to knock him down and crush him under the force of the heavy steps.

As Tiberius begins to lift a horse, a riding spellcaster immediately springs into action to stop him. He casts Ray of Enfeeblement in an attempt to drain his strength while the large heavy beast is still within his grasp.

As the party begins attacking the horses themselves and Draco wards off the horse mounted attacks, the men adapt their strategy and begin climbing from their horses to begin approach on foot, readying their weapons and shields surrounding the group.

Excalibur stands before Dreadstone now, sword gripped with both hands and in fighting stance. She patiently anticipates the first move from either side.

As all of this happens, the Kobold watches from within the bushes, too terrified to do anything.
 
The sudden diminishment in strength causes Tiberious's suplex to become a fall backwards. If not for his prowess in grabbing and throwing things, he would have been crushed under the horse for sure. His strength has been sapped, but his style has not. Falling back closer to Thaddeus and Draco, Tiberious dawns his scizore and prepares to fight flashily, focusing more on tripping foes and knocking weapons away than cutting them down.

"Wait a second, I have an enlargement potion that's been burning a hole in my pocket since we left the city!" Tiberious hastily drinks the potion and becomes a bear-sized man. While not back up to one hundred percent, the size change helps offset his diminished strength, making him into a hulking, fabulous warrior.
 
Excalibur's eyes widen in surprise as Dreadstone breaks into a sprint to close the remaining distance in a seeming suicide run. She does not pause or falter though, swinging a mighty strike at the incoming ranger.

The trailing edge of Excalibur's crystalline sword whistles as it cuts an arc through where Dreadstone was, but is no longer. The tiefling's tail grants him balance beyond those of normal people, allowing him to twist in seemingly impossible contortions to escape the blow.

No sooner has he evaded Excalibur's swing than is Dreadstone running again, taking every advantage his lightweight armor grants him over her heavy plate. He does not doubt that her magical blade would make short work of his own mundane one, and has already determined that he would have little chance of success in a direct engagement.

Instead, he continues his tactic of dancing just out of range of her swings, always dashing into her blind spot, forcing her to pivot to follow him, looking for a hole in her technique.
 
Hoping she is busy with Dreadstone, Draco attempts to slip in past her defenses and strike her down with his scimitar. If he can at least take her down...
 
The shower of hooves proves more than Thaddeus's limited healing powers can overcome. A stray horse foot stomps on his head, rendering him unconscious and taking him out of the fight.
 
Tiberius' brief moment of hope is immediately shrunk, both figuratively and literally as the wizards quickly dispel the effects of his concoction. Soldiers crowd the gladiator, and as the man can look up to their faces, he'll find that they are a variety of races, human, Drow, and even half-orc. They make a passing comment about killing the 'prized beast'. As Tiberius is kicked to the ground, and a lance is stabbed down on him, the same fate is given as many of the opponents, both human and animal, are given in the arena of death.

Dreadstone's attempt at misdirection is anticipated the moment he comes after her, knowing full well that an agile creature such as he would attempt to dance within the space of her blade rather than careful sword play. Realizing this, his first dodge is met with a twist of her body, taking her left hand from the handle of her blade and grasping Dreadstone's face as he attempts to dash by, followed by slamming him into the ground. She openly gloats, "Perhaps your swashbuckling tricks would work on everyone you've fought so far, but I'm on a completely different level."

Case in point, she juts her sword backward behind her, stabbing into Draco's stomach with a massive blade that completely surpasses his inferior reach, during his attempt to get in on her during a vulnerable moment. Releasing her sword, she stands up and points it down at Dreadstone, "I will be sure to tell your daughter and former wife that you won't be coming back to own up to them." Just as she did to Draco, she drives her blade into his stomach, pinning him to the ground just momentarily before releasing him...

As you all are defeated easily, Excalibur says to her men, "The Keep was surprisingly ingenious hiring adventurers to cover the holes in their operation. Consider this practice for the next lineup of adventurers they plan on sending our way. Dismissed!" And in that moment, they return to their horses and invoke the crystals among themselves to teleport away just as Loinel had done.

...

You are not dead.. but you are bleeding, bruised, and falling unconscious. As you lay, you have a moment to reflect on yourself.

<Give me a monologue of how your characters feel and think in this scenario.>
 
Trying to keep himself from dropping for as long as he can, and is around just long enough to see her teleport away, "I ain't dead yet bitch... you're going down... right after I stop bleeding profusely." he says, and then the lights go out.
 
Tiberious remains stubborn as he is driven to the ground and impaled. The insult doesn't register, as his mind is now focused on determining just how manly of a death this will be.

hmm, this didn't go like I thought it would, but I guess the end result is close enough. It took an army of them to fell me, and I got some blows in of my own. Maybe the sheer number of them counts as an audience too. Yeah, I think this demise can work, it's pretty manly. Hopefully Deadstone and Draco killed that bitch and- fuck, ok, they're down too. If I get brought back from this, I am hunting these guys and killing them. I think I'll strangle lance guy with his own intestines. Yeah, that sounds good. I hope I killed enough foes to climb their corpses to the heavens.

With that last thought, Tiberious fades to blackness
 
Dreadstone stares upward at the intense blue sky, his hand futilely clutching the wound in his abdomen. The blood gushes in hot pulses between his fingers, and he realizes that he can't actually feel it anywhere other than his hand. Excalibur's sword ran him through, he's probably suffering a spinal injury on top of the stab wound.

Oddly, if anything, he feels a vague sense of relief. Like he's finally put down an immense weight that he never even realized he was carrying. He's done now, done dwelling in the darkness, done fighting against the inevitable tide that threatens to subsume the world.

Someone else can take over for a while.

Dreadstone's eyes close. He hopes that the field medic will be along soon. Dawn gets worried when he doesn't get back home on time.
 
The magical "blorp!" of teleportation briefly jolts Thaddeus awake.

One look at the devastation around him makes him wish he'd stayed unconscious.

His men have been routed. Somehow, Thaddeus managed to escape impalement, but the same could not be said of the others. They are still making very shallow breaths, somehow, but he doubted that would last for long. The only sliver of hope is that Dreadstone's feral dog seems to have escaped the scene unharmed. Perhaps it would obey its master's commands and fetch the druid.

He struggles in futility to rise from his position, but he is too weak, and his armour is too heavy. He coughs, and pays for it by aggravating the wound that knocked him out cold; the pain is unbearable.

"H.... H...." he hoarsely stammers, and he cannot decide whether to pray 'Heironeous' or try to yell 'Help.'

Ultimately he does neither. He has little choice but to remain where he is, either until help arrives, or until he regains enough strength to do something about this.
 
Draco has a strange dream where is he attempting to strangle some Godforsaken Monsterous creature, possibly some sort of abberation or maybe a outsider from some vile pit of hell. All he knows for sure is it keeps whispering something over and over again "arrpee..."
 
DeadPhoenix said:
Draco has a strange dream where is he attempting to strangle some Godforsaken Monsterous creature, possibly some sort of abberation or maybe a outsider from some vile pit of hell. All he knows for sure is it keeps whispering something over and over again "arrpee..."
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<I laughed once I realized what was going on here.

For the record, I am looking more for dreams that might reflect a lot on your character's background, kind of like that one time Muun was slaughtered by RNG.>
 
Tiberious begins dreaming pleasantly enough. He is back in the arena with the soldiers that just impaled him, only now he's tearing through them like they're kobolds with leukemia. The roar of the crowd gets louder with every foe he fells, and when he beheads the soldier wielding the lance, rainbows and candy shoot out of the stump where his head once was. Ripping off one of his fallen foe's fingers and using it as a gruesome pen, he walks over to the edge of the arena to sign autographs for cheering children. Life is good.

The good times last for a little bit, but then his dreams take him into the territory of repressed memories.

Mr. And Mrs. Smith are a relatively poor family. Their shack has no room for the 14 children they have. While times are always tough, they make do, because they love their children. Well, 13 of them, anyway. They look on in disgust as a four-year old Leo excitedly jumps up and down on what passes as a sleeping mat. "Ugh, look at that little fucker, Annie. Why did we think 14 was a good idea?" "Well, SOMEONE wouldn't let me go see the town healer when I found out I was pregnant again." A little Leo keeps jumping around. Mommy and Daddy are arguing again. They seem to do that a lot whenever he's around.

A chariot pulls up to the shack, and a bald, overweight man adorned in gold comes to the door, flanked by heavily armed private guards. "G'day! I'm Mean Pete, of Mean Pete's Emporium of Slaves and more. You look like you're having a hard time, and like you have more children than you know what to do with. I'm looking for a young boy around the age of four or so who I can sculpt as I please. I'll be willing to pay you a good price for-" "That one over there!" The Smiths shriek at once, pointing at a still bouncing Leo. "You can have him for five gold." "Hmm, four gold." "Deal!" Mean Pete Walks in and grabs Leo, who begins trying to talk to his new owner. "Are you my uncle? Mommy and Daddy never have family over, but I heard Daddy talk about an uncle who's in the legion and-" a blackjack to the back of the head promptly knocks the four-year old out. Mean Pete grumbles "Ugh, my healers are going to be busy keeping this one alive. I hope he's worth the four gold."

--

An eight-year old Leo is training in the mountains under the watchful gaze of Mean Pete. "A major part of being a gladiator is being able to tolerate pain. As such, your sword training will be done with cacti. Duerne! Get over here and rough him up!" "But Pete!
Leo objects, I don't want to be a gladiator, I want to be a dancer!" A whip across his back forces Leo back in line, and the towering half-orc named Duerne stands in front of Leo, holding a vaguely sword-shaped cactus. Relunctantly, Leo takes a cactus as well, wincing as the needles dig into his hands. "Begin!" Duerne lunges forward and proceeds to bludgeon the poor boy. "Damnit Leo! You have to block! Keep your cactus up! Were you not paying attention during the lecture?" Leo is too busy crying to respond, and ends up with Cactus needles covering his body. After a healing spell, he is made to try again four more times, and then made to run several miles, up and down the mountain slopes. Then comes the rock lifting before dinner. This regiment continues on for about two years.

As time passes, Leo begins to adapt, and eventually becomes an equal of Duerne in sparring. When Leo finally emerges victorious, Mean Pete applauds. "Excellent, most excellent! Maybe you'll survive your first round in the arena soon. Go get us some water, and we'll call it a day." Leo walks towards the stream, but is stopped by a sight that will scar him for the rest of his life. Near the stream is a bear, eating the corpse of a clown. The bear's face is covered in blood, and the clown's entrails are strewn all over the place, with glitter and balloon animals mixed in. Oh god, he can still hear the honking of the nose and shoes with each bite the bear takes! Clutching his head and screaming, Leo has a complete breakdown, attracting the attention of the bear, who gives him a good mauling to shut him up. It's a good thing Mean Pete didn't want to lose his investment, or Leo would have died there.

Unable to handle the repressed memories any longer, Leo fades back into blackness, hopefully forgetting this dream by the time he regains consciousness.
 
"Thaddeus, a voice whispers in the paladin's ear, again rousing him from unconsciousness.

How long has he been here? He lifts his head to look around. The bodies of his friends are still where he last saw them, though they look paler and bloodier than they had before.

"Who's there?" he cries out weakly. "Who speaks my name?"

An enormous man wearing a pristine set of full-plate armor appears in front of him. Well over eight feet tall and perfectly proportioned, he smiles at Thaddeus through his salt-and-pepper beard.

It is Heironeous.

"Fear not, Child, says the god, All is not lost. Together, we shall...

BUT WAIT!

A jagged blade bursts through the silvery armor. Heironeous's eyes widen and he struggles to gasp for air, but it's all for nothing. The god drops dead, and the weapon retracts. Heironeous's corpse flops limply to the ground.

Behind it is a huge, shadowy figure. An amorphous mass, with tentacles that end in blades. Could this be the thing that....

A low growl distracts him. Thaddeus whips his head around, and suddenly he is standing, face to face with a monstrous Dire Wolf. He reaches down to grab his sword, but finds only breeches. He is naked apart from his underwear.

Thaddeus screams, turning and running away. His father's voice scolds him:

"MAN UP, Thaddeus! Running away is for women and babes, not for a courageous soldier of the Armies of Ruby Keep!"

"Listen to your father," his mother chides. "How in the world are you to find a bride if you are unable to even protect yourself? You're already at a disadvantage, dear - just look at yourself!"

He continues to run. Chancing a glance behind him, he sees that the Dire Wolf is still on his tail.

When he looks ahead again, though, he finds himself standing in the supply room where he'd spent the last few nights. He is wearing manacles again.

The woman - Excalibur, was it? - is here now, except she is also General Harris - the most prominent reason that Thaddeus was never able to rise above the rank of Junior Officer.

"You think you're so righteous," says the dual-figure, in both voices at once, "But I'll show you how worthless and impotent you really are. Why do you even bother trying to fit in with anyone? Wouldn't it be easier for you to just go off on your own? Better yet, why not just end your misery and kill yourself right NOW?"

Excalibur/Harris thrusts his/her sword forward, piercing Thaddeus's torso. He screams.
 
“Quitting again, son?”

The voice resonates through the gathering darkness, causing it to halt uncertainly at the edges of Dreadstone’s consciousness. The man that stands over the downed tiefling is not quite as Dreadstone remembers. Instead, he seems to be an amalgamation of his memories of the man over the years, the silver hair and weathered face of the commissioner of the ranger corps he knew as an adult wearing the red uniform of the lowly watchman he knew as a boy. The closest thing he has ever known to a real father.

“Commissioner Gladwell, sir,” Dreadstone croaks in recognition of the man. “Sorry, sir, but I do believe I’m done for. They always called me your shadow for followin’ you around all the time, seems only fittin’ that I follow you into whatever’s next.”

A dry cough wracks the dying man’s body. It takes so much effort to speak… “Sorry to have kept you waitin’,” he mumbles.

The aged human kneels over Dreadstone’s body, a look of sympathy on his face. “Darren, you aren’t thinking straight. You remember the last time you gave up?”

“This is different.”

“Is it? What happened when you quit the corps in the middle of the Rune Killer investigation? He went and made it personal. What do you think is going to happen to Dawn and Lorie when that crazed woman sets fire to the kingdom?”

“So promote that bastard Rotorson again an’ let him handle it.”

Gladwell shakes his head sadly. “All these years, and you still don’t get it. Darren, you were the lead investigator on the Rune Killer case, we couldn’t afford to promote you in the middle of an active investigation and pull you off it like that. Rotorson was terrible in the field, you know that, but he was a savant at navigating bureaucracy. He was your friend, Darren, you were meant to work together. But you couldn’t see past that and resigned your commission in a huff and made an even bigger mess of things. I don’t need to tell you how things went down after that.”

“No sir,” Dreadstone whispers weakly. “You don’t.”

“So what’s it going to be, soldier?” Gladwell barks. “Are you just going to lie here and die like a whore in the gutter, or are you going to get up and save the godsdamned world? Who is the one who takes what they want in life?”

“He who dares!”

Dreadstone’s silver eyes shoot open.
 
A young half-elf lies on the ground, bruised and bloodied. Not on a remote island, but a dark ally way in a relatively safe town. Across from him lies the most beautiful sight... Maria. She looks to be asleep, but its hard to tell, especially after that hit she took.

"You've got spunk kid. But you're weak. I mean, look at me? It was naive of you to think you could stop me. Lucky for you I want to keep the death count low..." Draco strains himself to look up at the man talking. He wears strange clothes that covers most of his body, leaving the only recognizable mark on him a portion of a tattoo. What looks like a snake tail going from his arm his face with a head.. of something. It might be snake? Perhaps a dragon? It was hard to tell with most of the tattoo covered and he could barely see it as is thanks to his elven eyes.

The man now stands over Maria, "You were harder to find then I expected, you were suppose to be human like your parents, but... Damn it, you're still awake? Fuck." he says as he notices Draco looking at him. He take a step over and gives the half-elf a swift kick in the head and everything goes black only to awaken moments later, both the man and Maria now gone. The only evidence she was ever there is a blank spell book with a little ribbon on it. A present for him... The only reminder of her he still keeps with him over all these years.
 
A girl soon appears in your dreams in person, a young girl in her late teens, or leaving her teens standing before you. She is pretty, dark hair curling at the ends and a sense of natural beauty about her without the need of vanity. She wears a garb that announces her as a spellcaster, an emerald green as her chosen color to wear.

Everyone else is gone, but you are in the last scene you are in still. She takes this moment to intrude onto your dream just to tell you a message..

Excalibur is a good person.. please try to understand her.. please allow her to continue her fight.


And soon after your eyes open to the trees above. You are still unsure if you are dead or alive, but everything feels much more real now. You soon realize that as your dreams fade to the obscurity of your memories, that the part with the girl stands out most, as if you couldn't forget it if you tried, it was almost real to you.

Your grave wounds are no longer present, but you are still in much pain. You are able to get up and move. The time of day has not changed, the sun still shines down upon you, welcoming you from your escape from your darkness.

<Take the hit die of your first level and roll it as a dice. That is how much HP past 0 you have right now. Good write ups too, glad I found a chance to have you guys do something like that.>
 
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