Bearer
It's a beautiful day, the sort of day for picture cards. There's people on the street on all sides. People walking along enjoying the fine weather and heading from one district to the other. Currently you find yourself near the noble district, you can tell because the quality of people's clothing has gone markedly up, and because there are simply fewer people walking about.
Then suddenly there's a terrified scream from the street up ahead of you. Something black flashes upwards from the street a few blocks away and then there are /people/ pouring around you. Finely dressed people screaming and running for their lives.
Azog aha, that's the sort of thing Azog was waiting for. He doesn't hang around the city because he enjoys the trappings of civilization! Well, the cooking's OK, but the rest of it is for the birds. But at the signs of trouble, he will ready sword and shield and wade upstream against the flow of traffic to see what's going on.
Durrankar could hear the scream from the memorial district. Morphing to an eagle, he flies OVER the crowds and lands on a building nearby to see what the heck is going on. He clicks his beak in agitation at the commotion…
Thus it's Durankar that sees it first. And 'it' is a very apt description for the thing. There are already two adventurer's on the scene; having been closer than you to it. One of them swings a blade at a black tentacle and is sent flying across the top of the houses. The other seems to think better of the fight, but as he backs up the thing grabs him and envelops him. The thing itself seems to be a black ball of tentacles. It roars and takes shape for a moment. Looking like a grounded bear with tentacles exploding from its body and then it becomes amorphous again.
Durrankar the eagle clicks his beak a couple of times and his eyes, then body, begins to glow blue. he then turns his head to spot Azog, but thankfully, he can still watch the mass from where he is.
GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+25: (9)+25: 34 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (12)+26: 38
Azog wades right on into the fray, heedless of danger or sense. Probably not to rescue the other fellow, but Azog is the sort of orc that wades into frays. No fear, but not a lot of good sense, either. But when has good sense been a prerequisite? He stabs it once, just to get its attention. New orc here!
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (3)+37: 40 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (18)+37: 55 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (2)+6: 8 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+32: (12)+32: 44
Azog's attack literally splits the amorphous mass of blackness apart into two sections. One section splits off, jumping across the huge space between itself and Durrankar and globing around the transformed sith-makar. Meanwhile the section near Azog slaps him with a tentacle as if largely unswayed by his efforts.
GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+25: (17)+25: 42 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (13)+26: 39 GAME: Durrankar rolls knowledge/arcana: (7)+5: 12 GAME: Durrankar rolls CMB: (6)+15: 21
Once the blob envelops him, Durrankar the Eagle thrashes about and gets free....feathers dripping as he flies up and up and up as best he can.
GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+21: (15)+21: 36 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+21: (17)+21: 38 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+21: (4)+21: 25 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+11: (5)+11: 16 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (15)+26: 41 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (12)+26: 38 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (12)+26: 38 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (9)+26: 35 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+22: (6)+22: 28 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (18)+37: 55 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (3)+6: 9
Azog decides he can't really defend against this thing, so he goes all-out on offense. Hopefully that will get its attention, and with two blades whirling like he knows what he's doing, he chops, slices, dices, and just about juliennes. That's a lot of cutting, for all the good it seems to do.
Durrankar manages to get away, but the thing attacking him... the two things attacking him drop on a pair of fleeing civilians who fall over instantly consumed by the dark amorphous mass. Meanwhile Azog has his part chopped into so many pieces that it's quivering like jello cubes. Only these ones quickly collapse into a single form again, jiggling and roaring at him with a quick bash that comes out of nowhere.
GAME: Alba rolls knowledge/arcana: (5)+18: 23
Alba does not often wander the Noble District -- much to the relief of the nobles, really -- But occasionally business requires she meet a resident to negotiate for supplies. Alba is very good at negotiating. She almost never has to haggle for very long.
And woe of woes for all concerned, on this business trip she has run across a kindred spirit!
And this is how she comes to be floating at the side of a silver-scaled Sith-Makar her hair drifting about in knowing defiance of the direction the breeze blows. "....I saw what was worn, yes. I know not how it is a thing which matters?"
And whatever conversation there may have been is put on hold, because there is something large and black and blobby wobbling about up the lane. Pushing off the nearby building, she takes to the air, hand-razors gliding over the pad of her uncovered thumb, the blood used to draw a complex sigil on the forehead of her mask.
"WHO RELEASED THEIR MISBEGOTTEN EXPERIMENTS?!"
GAME: Alba casts False Life. Caster Level: 11 DC: 17 GAME: Alba rolls 1d10+10: (2)+10: 12 GAME: Durrankar rolls 3d6: (12): 12
Durrankar circles and circles. His eyes meet Alba's, but he looks down and lets out a shriek.....and three bolts of lightning arc towards the blobs. In turn, the blobs grow bigger, and the eagle clicks its beak. It's rather obvious to Alba that if he was in his normal form...he'd be cursing in Draconic.
GAME: Atleti rolls knowledge/arcana: (3)+9: 12 GAME: Atleti casts Monstrous Physique I. Caster Level: 10 DC: 16 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+21: (5)+21: 26 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+21: (18)+21: 39 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+19: (7)+19: 26 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+16: (7)+16: 23 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+11: (7)+11: 18 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (15)+26: 41 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (10)+26: 36 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (11)+26: 37 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+26: (9)+26: 35 GAME: Azog rolls 2d8+22: (7)+22: 29
The creature whom Alba had found--not the misbegotten experiment, though behind closed doors and shadows, some things may be argued--its breath curls about its muzzle. Its...beautiful muzzle. Its...shining muzzle, and the creature seems to be cognizant of these facts, this shininess. The sith-makar paces alongside the witch, one powerful leg striding 'fore the other. His silvered scales shine in the light.
"There wass no part of the look which complimented their fierssness, hsss," he comments, cattishly, to the woman beside him. Atleti paces on all fours, in a sinuous line. The parade is brought to a half, however-- "It--what iss that?" he asks then.
At Alba's shout, he rears up, muzzle lengthening, and the sleek scales taking on a rocklike texture. His voice drops a register, and he stares up at the sky, overhead. "Oh thisss isss interessting...!"
Azog is not deterred by his failure to hurt it so far. It only means he has to hurt it more, and more and more. He does so, blades slashing and cutting at all angles, with incredible power, all things considered. Most people would be on the floor in a pool of blood if they'd been cut that badly. Azog certainly would.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (15)+37: 52 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (15)+37: 52 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (19)+37: 56 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+32: (9)+32: 41 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+32: (5)+32: 37 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (1)+6: 7 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (5)+6: 11 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (5)+6: 11
The now-larger concentration of black mass shoots itself upwards at Durrankar, as if in retribution for his lightning strike. Or perhaps for some other reason. The heaviness of the water weighs him down and they instantly start to drop out of the sky. Atleti is attacked also, by the slime that had been standing right next to the one that attacked Durrankar. It covers him in a thick black substance that darkens the world outside by magnatudes.
Meanwhile Azog faces an unending battle with his creature. It collapses in on itself for a second time, rising up to smack him again tirelessly. It just... doesn't seem to mind being struck by his sword. He keeps hacking, and it keeps coming back for more.
GAME: Alba casts Chill Touch. Caster Level: 11 DC: 16 GAME: Alba rolls melee+5: (1)+5+5: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
Getting no answers, Alba seethes in midair, mask bobbing to the draconic gargoyle that joins her in the skies. A nod that turns into an indignant start, as the blobby black mass shoots out to engulf Atleti right next to her.
Raking her free hand through her hair, Alba seems to imbue her writhing tresses with a life-sapping blackness. "I WAS NOT FINISHED WITH THAT," she roars, as her hands fan out to stab at the thing in a hundred tiny places...
...And somehow a bad wobble makes each and every one miss.
If she were a cat, she'd be washing a paw right about now. Because she meant to do that. Yes.
GAME: Durrankar rolls fortitude: (2)+18: 20
flap flap...flap...flapflapflapFLAPFLAPFLAPFLAPFUCKINGFLAPFLAPFLAP. This eagle finally makes it out of the black stuff and hacks up something fierce as it flies away into the sky. Durrankar seems to be glowing a bit too....probably tired of being enveloped by the ichor.
GAME: Atleti rolls fort: (9)+13: 22
The creature Atleti stiffens, his back curling--the wings spreading--and dripping stickily from the tar. Oh, how the chest heaves. Oh, how the eyes flash in rage, how the lips draw back over the fangs...or would, if the goo did not threaten. If the--
"WHERE ISS THE WASSH?" he roars, and the goo threatens there, too. Frustrated, he starts to roar again--only to cough. Black ichor spews from his muzzle.
He stumbles. Gathers himself. And moves heroically towards--THE WASH.
THERE MUST BE SOAP, SOMEWHERE!
Azog will prove which of the two has more endurance, he tirelessly fights on, hacking it anew as it comes at him, slashing, cutting, hacking. Heavy blows of his sword cut away bits and pieces, despite that they grow back. He growls an oruch oath and keeps fighting, blades flashing as he cuts it again and again.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (2)+6: 8 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d4+4: (2)+4: 6
The monster continues to be divided, and reuninte. One thing - important thing that can be said is that Azog is keeping this particular bit of the monster busy.
The bit that attacked Durrankar falls to the ground by a building and slips inside...
Meanwhile Atleti can hear a faint hissing sound as the thing surrounding him begins to burn and blister his skin even through his thickened hide.
GAME: Alba rolls ranged: (5)+9: 14 GAME: Alba rolls 3d8: (12): 12 GAME: Alba rolls knowledge/arcana: (8)+18: 26 GAME: Durrankar rolls fortitude: (18)+18: 36 GAME: Durrankar rolls ranged: (6)+15: 21 GAME: Durrankar rolls 4d6: (14): 14
Few things annoy Witches like something refusing to obey them. Fewer things still survive annoying a Witch. As she seethes, the jagged golden circlet catches the sunlight on its points... and then catches more, the tines growing brighter and brighter still... And then the light travels along the metal to gather atop the center spike, where it lashes out in a beam of searing, seething annoyance.
And even when she wants it to just die, it refuses to listen to her.
Oh this is _vexing._
Still flying overhead, Durrankar the eagle clicks his beak a bit more before a beam fires from it's mouth....hitting the blob in front of Azog.
GAME: Atleti rolls 10d6: (29): 29 GAME: Atleti RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 20 temporary HP
Atleti, would-be dragon, takes to the streets, his voice a howling of rage against the world, against the thickness enveloping him. Said darkness burns and blisters his pristine his pristine scales--and the draconian then twists 'round, blasting himself with frost and snow.
Fired, on himself, as he runs. The wind catches tail of it, and whips it around him and past, and into the streets. The explosion leaves his scales coated, leaves a flowering of ice behind him.
...and then he leaps, landing in a soapy, sudsy laundry bucket. HIS DIGNITY!
GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+18: (20)+18: 38 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+18: (10)+18: 28 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+13: (17)+13: 30 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+8: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Azog rolls 3d6+23: (14)+23: 37 GAME: Azog rolls 3d6+23: (7)+23: 30 GAME: Azog rolls 3d6+23: (9)+23: 32 GAME: Azog rolls 3d6+23: (13)+23: 36
Azog casts his swords aside in frustration at having accomplished very little other than keeping the monster occupied. That's not really a acceptable end goal for him. He'll haul out his adamantine earthbreaker, which he normally uses for destroying walls and things, and he'll have a go at this slime thing. WHAMWHAMWHAMWHAM. Azog is, well, huge, and with magically enhanced speed, is really a crushing engine that spells bad news in pretty much any language. The slime thing is much flatter afterwards. Apparently flattery is effective.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (14)+37: 51 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+32: (17)+32: 49
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (6)+6: 12
The one attacking Azog finally seems to take offense, gathering its mass together and enveloping the huge warrior. It barely fits. It's like a thin murky film covering his body. Across from him and slightly to the side the black stuff is no longer on Atleti. It's hard to tell what did it. The fire? The ice? The water, lemon, and suds? Either way he's squeaky clean now.
Meanwhile faintly from the house can be heard a child's scream...
GAME: Durrankar rolls ranged: (8)+15: 23 GAME: Durrankar rolls 4d6: (18): 18
Filled with seething fury, Alba watches Atleti's cleaning efforts for just a *twitch* from the stubborn goop. But the moment a child is heard to scream, her back straightens, and a low hiss floats out from under her mask.
Her hair swirls around her, wrapping the Witch in a tight, fibrous black cocoon, which then dives for the closest window to the house the scream came from.
- Two* sharp crashes ring out -- the window, and a magical shield -- And Alba tumbles into the room, past an aged wizard and his now-failed shield...
But her cocoon unravels, lashing out with a fan of fibrous black locks that wrap around the ooze, and the witch *lights on fire.*
"NOT ONE CHILD, CREATURE. NOT *EVER* A CHILD."
GAME: Durrankar rolls 17d6: (72): 72 GAME: Durrankar rolls 17d6: (58): 58 GAME: Alba rolls melee+5: (17)+5+5: 27 GAME: Alba rolls 1d6+10: (2)+10: 12 GAME: Atleti rolls 2d6: (8): 8
Durrankar the eagle really really blasts the ooze that is on Azog, but it seems the beam is making the ooze bigger. the bird clicks its beak in annoyance.
SO. FIERCELY. BEAUTIFUL. AGAIN. Atleti emerges from the soapy, filthy water like an enraged gladiator. It pours off his scales and back into the pool, though some of it stays. Some forms sud-bloops on his scales and spines.
He emerges bare in time to see the witch, his...friend...wrap herself in ropes (please the gods let that not be hair, so tacky) and rocket into the window.
He stands, and--grasps the washbucket, and tosses its contents onto the creature surrounding the other warrior. Arcane energy crackles over his arms, lending strength--and the suds slough over the other warrior.
Some of the sludge drains away.
"YOU WILL FASSE THE WRATH OF DRAGONSS!" And soapsuds. Totally! Atleti roars, and barrels past, as quick on the trail of friend-witch as he may manage.
GAME: Azog rolls cmb+4: (16)+24+4: 44 GAME: Atleti rolls fort: (14)+13: 27 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+18: (3)+18: 21 GAME: Azog rolls 3d6+23: (15)+23: 38 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+37: (19)+37: 56 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+32: (7)+32: 39 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+32: (13)+32: 45
Azog is engulfed by slime. This doesn't slow him much, he's still raining hammer blows on the biggest chunks he can find. There's mess and splatter and bits of slime all over. Mess doesn't even begin to cover it. And -then- the soap. Soap! It's not even August yet. He has to fight his way out of the slime before he can really lay into it, so he does, and then he does, bashing it with a hard vengeful SMACK which sends mess flying.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (4)+6: 10
The black mess grabs Azog again, this time more easily falling on top of him. After hitting him up alongside the head of course. The one fighting Alba has similar ideas, encasing her in its own body headless of the fire that blooms up around it as it does so. At least it seems far more interested in her now than it did in the child.
GAME: Alba rolls 1d6: (6): 6 GAME: Alba rolls 1d6+10: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+11: (2)+11: 13 GAME: Alba rolls fortitude: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Alba rolls fortitude: (12)+7: 19
Having no better ideas, Durrankar fires another beam at the one Azog is beating up, making it a much larger target. he also hopes he's not healing it.
GAME: Atleti rolls 1d20+18-3: (8)+18+-3: 23 GAME: Atleti rolls 1d4+18: (3)+18: 21 GAME: Azog rolls cmb+4: (12)+24+4: 40
The body of the silverscale flows into the room. Somehow, he makes this work. Somehow, being covered in soap, in grunge, in leaping through shattered glass...
SOMEHOW.
It must be that draconic legacy, or something. Atleti lands on all fours, and then shoves forward--goring the goo and ooze with the horns on his head.
"SSOAP!" he rasps, spitting out black goo, "SSOAP AND WATER, WITCH!"
GAME: Atleti rolls fort: (7)+13: 20 GAME: Azog rolls 1d20+18: (4)+18: 22
Azog bashes and wrestles his way out of the engulfing yuck. "Gah." He turns on it with the adamantine hammer once again, and delivers another heavy blow to it, which crashes into it, and the earth below, with a heavy splat. The thing seems to burst satisfactorily, with bits of it going all over. Sledge-O-Matic.
Black rains from the heavens from the fall of the main source of the black things, and the one on Alba is slowly but surely being boiled away, boiled away... gone. It turns to steam and vanishes. Then... there's silence in the noble district.
Spit. Ptooo! Atleti hawks and spits. Now that the fight's ended, his body shakes. WANTS to shake, except--the great dragons don't do that.
They do NOT.
He eyes the others balefully--and gives a final look towards Alba--before slinking off. Out of sight. Away.
There might be...yes. A silvered cat that makes its way, out and past the doors. Just.
Just a cat.
The eagle flies down and lands, before changing into Durrankar. "Ugh. We need to find where these things are coming from." he says as water flows from his staff...to wash the crap away.
RARRR! the cat hisses, as it's splashed! It dashes off, tripping slightly as it runs. Tail up!
-End