Brennus and Actæa unleash yet another volley [1d20=1, 20]. This time Actæa's bolt is on target, flying viciously towards the blue worm, impaling itself in the serpent's throat [1d6=1] for 1 point of damage. The blusterous mass falls to the ground, spraying Yngvar and the fallen Boro with filth.
Yngvar instead turns his attention to the guard, [1d20=9] but after a few swings his axe is caught by his opponent's halberd. [1d20=18] Magne, charging forward with his pole axe, impales the guard--passing through his mail and into the soft skin beyond--for [1d6=5] 5 points of damage. The guard collapses dead to the ground.
Boro, with -6 hit points must roll a 20 on his saving throw or parish. [1d20=12] After a minute, the fighting-man's pulse gives way as his life slides out beneath them.
Actæa takes a moment to whisper a prayer over the fallen warrior; "We owe you our lives, bravest friend. Rest well and with honour."
Then she rouses herself; "Magne - " (She throws the giant warrior his wine skin) - "use your wine to try and revive Adrastos. Brennus, Yngvar - with me. We need to retrieve Faryd if he yet breathes, and I would delay any pursuit. Quickly!"
And she heads off back to where Faryd was left lying...
Last Edit: Jul 14, 2011 14:15:22 GMT -6 by doctorx
Magne nods his head as he wipes the blade of his halberd on the dead guard's tunic with one hand and catches the wine skin with the other. He approaches Adastros, uncorks his second wine skin, and slowly pours small amounts of it between his lips.
"Faryd means nothing to me, " Brennus says roughly. "It may be in your best interest to leave his corpse here. Assuming The Tyrant is a cunning man, he will be expecting a rescue attempt of the thief Alma Kiln. If the bodies of known accomplices Faryd and Turin are discovered here, then there is nobody alive to link you to the crime, and the Tyrant may relax his guard, thinking the conspiracy snuffed out."
Post by spectresghost on Jul 15, 2011 9:46:31 GMT -6
As the rest of the party retreats safely, Boro's spirit goes to greet his barbarian gods. Though the women have not clothed him with the lion's skin and put the ceremonial spear and shield in his hand, he will hold his head high when he meets them. He has fought valiantly and served his tribe well.
Post by tombowings on Jul 15, 2011 12:46:39 GMT -6
The company begins to run, leaving the fallen bodies of Eyvindur, Alexandro, and Boro to rot in the Undercity. Through filth and bones they tread, but where is the party's destination? The cultists lair? Back to The Burning Lamp? Somewhere completely different?
"I agree, we should return to the Burning Lamp, to rest for our 'demonstration' before the Sultan tomorrow," Yngvar says. "I'd also like to suggest that we not attempt any more forays into the palace without more - much more - information about what the hell just happened there. I don't want to meet more of those gods-be-d**ned worms!" He spends the rest of the trip out of the sewers muttering under his breath about civilized folk and their weird ways.
Archaeology is nothing like Indiana Jones. I've never once gotten to punch a Nazi!
After Magne helps bring him back to his senses with the wine, Adrastos tells him: "Almost walked through death's door there, friend. Thank the gods of your frozen wastes for that, though I have a murderous ringing in my head," he says clutching his bruised skull as they run in through the darkness of the sewers.
He tells Brennus, hand on his shoulder, "It seems like you may yet be a bodyguard, eh?" and to the rest of his companions, "I'm far from the trusting or worshiping sort...but you've saved more than my skin. I owe you my life, comrades - and you -" he says to the unconscious traitor, "you're going to cough up some answers...or if not, your worthless blood will have to do..." he says with cold, controlled rage.