Round One The woman's words echo with a sudden burst from the air, as if pushing through a barrier between reality and magic itself. The rend begins to hiss, releasing the effects of the smoke. Suddenly enough, the world rolls under a carpet of thick, blue and red scintilating fog. Without hesitation, she pulls herself back into the mists, silently becoming a phantom to the party.
With the fog rolling around, the effects of the spell hit Opal and Amie the hardest. Opal, like her staunch ancestors would have, remains standing, the paragon of the Dwarven faiths. Amie, however, faired worse, inhaling at just the wrong time. Suddenly enough, her lungs siezed on the loving, fresh rose scent and her eyes rolled into her head. Falling backwards, the wizard only caught a momentary shot of the woman before fading into the bleakness the spell intended for her.
To the rest of the group of people, the fog seemed to suddenly appear like a cloak around the woman, vanishing her into it's murky depths. With sudden haste, two streaking lights gave chase, only to also disappear in the growing fog. The twin missiles could be seen, chasing here and there and flashing in every direction. Time passed, but the only purchase that could be found was in a quiet paff of exhausted magical energy.
The room fell into eerie quiet. Something seemed amiss now, something unspeakably wrong. Though unsure what, the team could feel the atmosphere of the room change. From beyond the foggy depths, many forms seemed to move...
OOC: Ok, those of you who didn't give me initiatives, please do so next time. Secondly, sorry Lylie. I didn't think you wanted it going off. Since she acted first (the enemy, that is), I simply assumed you were holding your fire.
"Opal... get... out.... of..."Amie trailes off as the smoke hits her full force and she falls backwards into a daze. This is really bad. Damn Elven woman. ----------------------------------------------- Roll: 4
Jenene saw the strange mist engulf Amie. Unable to see her target, she didn't want to try casting magic missile. She glanced at Aboriam with a look that told him that she didn't know what to do. Many things rushed though the young mage, Amie and Opal are in that cloud of magic. I do not think there is anything I can do. Was I taught anything about wind. She quickly remembered, No, it would come in handy at the moment. I hope Aboriam knows what to do.
Lylie seeing the fog building up, releases her color spray in the direction of the enemy. Watching her spray go into the fog and color it hoping that it hits the target and she slowing moved forward. She stayed to the edge of the fog's perimeter waiting for the fog to lessen.
"You think that you can tell us apart? Many have tried, but then again, many have failed. What do you think the price for that is?" The Three Sisters Lylie-governess to a child of the first plain "You grew up. Thats a shame. The carousel never stops turning. You cant get off either. Its a shame."
Coughing a little from the smoky magical attack, Opal noticed the mage at her side swaying back and fourth woozily. Unable to seeing their assailant, she shook her head and grabbed Amie, putting her up on her sturdy shoulders. “Canna have you out in the middle of combat, girl. Less go!”
Carrying her over to the doorway, she carefully put the half-elven woman down, leaning against the wall. Turning, she put up her shield, ready to attack any hostiles coming into her line of sight. ----- Initiative, 5 rolled with a Dexterity of 10. Attack roll of 1 vs. whatever… with a +1 pick equals 2. Yeah, I miss.
Post by gryphonpoet on Dec 16, 2006 9:38:52 GMT -5
The crowd had madded inside the doorway. Slowly, the tangle had allowed the Son of Stormwatcher to slip into the room as the fog magically appeared and spread slowly, almost menacingly. The metallic taste of fear filled the Elf's mouth.
Magic. Aboriam thought quietly. By the Holiest Stick, how I hate this bending of the working of the universe.
The arrow rattled slightly against the bow as Aboriam's eyes widened in uncertainty. Already, without knowing who they faced, the gentle elf hated their adversary.
Round Two[/b] A colorful spray flashed across the battlefield, lighting the fog up with prismatic hues. The clouds rolled the reds and blues and yellows around like an artist swirling on a pallete. Though no easier to discern the shapes inside it, it served to define the boundary of the fog bank.
Taking a free opportunity, Opal grabbed the fallen Amie and retreated back to the doorway, where the dwarven woman took up a defensible position. Oire, Lylie, Aboriam, and Jenene remained in the room to await the foe.
With a singular flurry of moment, the woman reappeared from the mysts, wielding a large scythe. Garbed in a turquoise robe and torn raiments underneath, the pale skinned image before them shouted in a tongue unfamiliar, "Ii'kon mura'ahas shij'jik muratat!" Her piercing green eyes were filled with a kind of territorial hostility, her skin tinged with grey undertones. Without hesitation, she swung at the closest person, Aboriam. The blade grazed the elfen man's forehead, despite his best attempts to move out of the way. Falling into a defensive posture, the woman snarled, spitting the bitter words, "Ulloth rom'rara hurkaan," at the party.
Results: Unknown attacks Aboriam (18 rolled) for 2 points of damage.
Aboriam took 2 points of damage.
OOC: We'll keep up this turn order accordingly. No, the language is not familiar to the conscious party ( ^.^ ), but perhaps could be recognized should someone dedicate their whole actions and an Intelligence roll...
Last Edit: Dec 17, 2006 12:53:51 GMT -5 by eunhathes
Post by gryphonpoet on Dec 21, 2006 13:12:18 GMT -5
(Movement Round - action to come)
During the flurry of activity, Aboriam became aware of the presence of this magic using creature. Instinctively, he sat, rolled and stood back up. The arrow never unnotched from Aboriam's bow string, even when his opponet swung her scythe and sliced his forehead.
The elf could concentrate through the pain. He even ignored that had he remained standing in place, the scythe would have split him in two. He even held his panic from the words she said, thinking them to be more magic developing.
Jenene saw the figure swing at Aboriam and say something in an unknown language. She fired light into the woman's eyes and took one step closer to make the spell more effective. With her free hand she readied her weapon for an attack from the hostile woman.
Looking around, Opal took note of the battle around her, noticing with relief that Aboriam rolled out of the path of the attack. Taking a step forward from the doorway, the dwarven fixed the image of her goddess in her mind, silently calling for her blessings.
Twisting her pick around in her hand, she brought the tool around and up with a small shout of energy. Bringing her hand up above her head, she watched as grey, twisted roots shot from the ground, attempting to capture the slippery elven enemy in their grasp. ---
Opal casts Entangle. I don't think I need to roll anything. Tell me if I do.
Lylie takes one look at the creature and charges. Her training kicking in. She had trained with the monks in her home country. They were considered the best.
She started with raking and then fallowed it through with a kick.
((OOC: I need to know what I will need to roll.))
"You think that you can tell us apart? Many have tried, but then again, many have failed. What do you think the price for that is?" The Three Sisters Lylie-governess to a child of the first plain "You grew up. Thats a shame. The carousel never stops turning. You cant get off either. Its a shame."
Amie's subconscious stirred. She's a guardian. She's protecting us and probably the rest of the world from something dangerous. Her dream like self calls out to the woman. "What's so dangerous? What are you protecting?" She calls out in the woman's tounge. Not relizing she was in a dream an unable to communicate with the woman, she still tries.
"We dont' want to hurt you. We just want to find our friends."
Post by gryphonpoet on Jan 4, 2007 12:30:09 GMT -5
Amie, stumbled back from the woman's initial magical attack, began mumbling something. Aboriam couldn't tell what it meant, but the cadence sounded as if she were trying to speak in another language.
Or it could have been the ecstatic utterances of someone approaching death. Only a close check on Amie would be able to tell and this Son of Stormwatcher had no time for that. The Elvish woman had already struck and prepared to once more.
Aboriam knocked and drew another arrow. He took dead aim on her center of mass. This time, he would NOT miss.
