For your Entertainment

You've been tasked with tracking down a strange creature which attacked a caraavan just yesterday. It tore through the people and animals and slaughtered everything in sight. Even the carts themselves were destroyed. Nothing was ransacked or one might have thought that it was bandits on a terrible crusade. It wasn't though. The tracks at the scene were unrecognizable, but still clearly something unnatural. Now you're tracking it through... a blizzard.

That's right. A blizzard. For some reason there's snow falling in the middle of the forest. It's snowing /hard/. There's at least five feet of snow on the ground where there's a way for it to pile up, and the trees offer scant protection from the biting winds. This clearly, is not natural either. Something is /wrong/ about this whole job.

"...it is not winter, ssers," Chay says, and he shivers. The sith-makar pulls his coat around himself, tightly. "What wizardry is thiss?" He steps forward, because he'll be a fool, and raises his muzzle. Scents the air.

Erendriel kind of had to bring things to an abrupt halt when she saw snow ahead. Serious, heavy snow in fact. Being from the southern reaches of Myrddion, a literally fire-blooded Sorceror, and a relatively lightly dressed young half-elf at that, she looks to the others. "I can't travel in that. I need to go back, get some um, travel gear for that, or I will freeze to death in that."

Sargon holds an arm up in front of his face, trying to shield himself from the wind and snow. "Are there any creatures that can -make- it snow?" he shouts. His teeth chatter a bit. "With a spell or some other Power?" After a few steps through the deep snow one of his feet comes up bare. He stares at it, then turns and tries to retrace his steps, digging through the snow. Finally he straightens up, the missing sandal in his hands. He bends down stiffly and slips it back over his foot. "Perhaps we can make a fire?!"

"There are, sers," Chay replies. The words are numb. His face is numb, from the cold. He wasn't made for this sort of weather. "But we might not know unless we find their tracks, ssers--or markings, if they fly. One might ssuggest looking for ssigns of a casting. Or, take down the patternss here, in the ssnow and winds. Ssuch patterns may be sshared with a shaman."

Erendriel nods to Sargon and Chay. "There is wizardry that can change the weather. A change like this would require much stronger wizardry than I could ever stand up to. But maybe it's... just a wand or something. And it's not a powerful archmage that could smite us in seconds. But.." She places her finger to herl lips. "I will go back to the city, I will get boots and furs, and I will come back to travel in it. I suggest you two do the same. Then we can see together. By the way I have no special means of... detecting magic at the moment."

GAME: Sargon rolls survival: (16)+8: 24
GAME: Chay rolls survival: (13)+13: 26
GAME: Erendriel rolls survival: (11)+1: 12
GAME: Chay rolls spellcraft: (5)+6: 11

"The sstorm ssmells evil, ssers. A bad ssmell like day-old rotfish." The tail flickers and Chay steps back, and then back again. "Perhaps we sshould gather more than coats," he says to Erendriel, seriously. "Perhapss a report to the local Counssil of the Green."

Sargon shakes his head at Erendriel and Chay. "Who knows how far this could go? This is not natural...it can't be the entire forest. If we push our way through we'll come out of the blizzard. Or we'll find the source and put an end to it..."

Erendriel makes an excellent point, but the snow has come to a stop and despite the remaining chilly temperature it's survivable. Moreso, in the distance before you, you can make something out. It looks... Like some kind of white spike protruding from the snow. It's a bit far away, through snow and ice, but you could certainly reach it if you tried.

"This one was...is that a tower, ssers?" Chay asks. His voice is suddenly dead. Hollow. "...if it iss, ssers. If it is--ward yoursself against evil. Against possession," he says. "There iss legend of a tower ssers, that appears in such a way. It iss owned by elder vampires, ssers, and is a ssource of the plague."

"If...if that is what it iss, ssers. One hopes to be wrong. One very much hopes to be wrong."

Sargon pulls his arms through the sleeves of his tunic, so that they are held across his abdomen inside. The action stretches the garment to its limits, but it serves the benefits of warming up hands and arms that otherwise would have been exposed, and also concentrating somewhat the warmth generated by his own body. "A tower," he hisses. "Of course."

GAME: Erendriel casts Spider Climb. Caster Level: 4 DC: 17

Erendriel is still COLD, and is using her cantrip rays of FIRE freely to that effect. But she sees the tower in the forest, and when Chay is praying, she's reminded to cast on herself. Waving her hands, she's ready as she's going to be. "Um, if an elder vampire is living there... um. Yeah."

Chay glances towards Sargon, and follows with the Ward of the Hunter. Two hands cupped outwards with the fingers spread, representing the Dragon's protective wings. The ward settles over each person present. The sith's breath mists, frosting in the cold.

"Do not meet their eyes, ssers. There is very little one knows, of vampires--ssave they are masters of perssuasion."

A deeper breath. "We might look around the parameter, ssers, and mark thiss area. ...but ssers. ..." He doesn't want to go near elder vampires. That much is clear. As you move closer to the spike... it /is/ a tower. A tower sprouting forth from the ice like some kind of exclamation. There's something in the clearing with the tower. Some kind of... monster.

It's white and black, looking like a horrid combination of dire wolf and centipede. Except, it turns around to look at you, and it has a elf's face. Elvish ears and elvish green eyes looking at you from a body that no elf has ever worn. The sight of it sends chills through your body. It makes you want to take a cold bath in the snow, or run to Alexandria and take a steaming one that lasts three nights.

Sargon gives Erendriel a flat look. Then he turns the expression on Chay. Finally he nods in agreement. "Scout the perimeter. Yes...yes, that is what we should do." As they approach, he squints at the shape in the distance. "That - that must be what attacked the caravan. No wonder they could not describe it. I've never heard of such a creature."

Erendriel sighs. "Alright. We'll scout." She then walks to the tallest tree nearby, and just jogs straight up it, getting to the top to get the highest view of the tower possible.

• PAFFF!*

An explosion of snow, a wave of arcane power... and a sudden burst of elvish swearing. As the snow settles, Mikilos blinks hard, peering around in confusion. "...what the hells? Snow?!" He stares a moment before shruging and glancing around a moment longer, spying the gathered adventurers. "Greetings. What's happening? I was supposed to teleport to the shop."

And then he spies The Tower.

"...oh." What follows is a string of terms that should not be heard by children. Or adults.

GAME: Chay rolls knowledge/arcana+4: (4)+9+4: 17 

The creature is shambling closer to you now, quite quickly in fact. Heading right for Chay and Sargon who happen to be quite close to one another.

GAME: Sargon rolls fort: (17)+7: 24
GAME: Chay rolls fort: (11)+11: 22

"One ssuspects, yes." Then, "...have you fassed an elder vampire, sser?" to Sargon. Chay's look slides past him, seeing him but moving on. And then, fixating on the creature. The creature he stares at openly, the brow drawing down. His hand slips to his bow and he steps away from Sargon. Quick. Quick-quick-quick! The bow comes up, and he levels it at the creature. A movement guided by training, a lifetime. While the rest of him draws in breath too quickly.

Sargon withdraws his arms from inside his tunic. He turns half to one side and raises his fists with elbows bent so that one arm shields his abdomen and chest while the other is held forward, ready to block or punch. "I have not faced any kind of vampire," he admits to Chay without taking his eyes off of the approaching monstrosity.

The sith-makar gives a flick of the tail. Chay'd heard, that meant. "Sser mage, one intends to...is this creature from Ssilvermoon, sser? It possesses a sildanyari fasse," he says. And he lifts, takes aim, and fires. Surviving, he can do. Just so long as no one to-touch...touches…

Mikilos squints at the Tower a moment, then at the.... whatever the hell that is. Likely some poor victim kidnapped and forcefully altered into this abomination. Knowing The Mistress it will still be able to beg for death. At this point, all he can do is try to offer a quick one. Spitting a word of Power, the archmage gestures, and a ball of flame roars from his hand, exploding just behind the creature with a swirl of firely power enough to vaporize the surrounding snow instantly. And with luck, the abomination as well.

Sargon takes a quick step forward, knees flexing. Then he leaps into the air like an acrobat, tucking into a ball at the apex of his jump for a forward flip. Only when he comes out the flip it's with one leg extended, foot lined up with the bizarre creature's Elvish face.

GAME: Mikilos casts Fireball. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21

Sargon's foot hits the thing in the face and then... there's an explosion. The explosion shoves the creature forward into Sargon, and the creature lets out a harsh scream of pain. It's carapace protected it from most of the explosion of fire, but it's back end doesn't seem to be working anymore. Just the same it scratches at Sargon, clawing at him desperately as it screams. Clearly it's dying. It's scramble forward protects it from Erendriel.

Meanwhile... there's someone behind Chay. A tall man with dark hair and bright green eyes. One long-fingered hand reaches out and touches the sith-makar, the man grinning broadly as his fingers slide over the other's shoulder. "Hello friends."

And then someone's behind him. And then someone, someone who reeks of evil, of cinders and enslavement. Someone who speaks as though they would reach into Charneth's deepest bowels, and cuddle with the monsters there.

Chay whirls around, bringing his fist up--slamming it with hard, fast desperation into the vampire. GET AWAY FROM ME.

NOW!

And then he's moving, backing away. Staring hard. Eyes as wide as saucers. Breathing. Breathing...

Mikilos blinks, turning very slowly at the voice. The monster all but forgotten, the elf peers a moment, his hair standing on end. No, seriously, his long hair is rising up, violet sparks of arcane power arcing between strands. Another muttering of arcane words, and the elf glows for a brief moment with white light. Not the most impressive display, but he's just getting started.

GAME: Mikilos casts Protection From Evil. Caster Level: 12 DC: 19

Sargon stumbles back, gashes marring his skin and tunic where he was clawed. Perhaps next time a bit of coordination with his allies would be in order. He doesn't glance back at the others to belatedly see what they are planning next - such distraction could be disastrous in a fight. But when the man speaks, Sargon does look back, just in time to see Chay and Mikilos' attempts to damage him. Sargon tears his gaze away and returns his attention to the creature. "I'll try to finish this quickly," he promises. "With as little pain as I can manage." Then he lashes out with a punch, twists and tries to uppercut the elven chin.

The monster takes a fist to the face, shaking it's head and totally stunned for a moment.

The vampire however is anything /but/ stunned. The strike lands, and he bleeds, but the wounds close nearly as quickly as they come and he's already moving forward. Already /reaching/. His hands are weapons, and he knows how to use them. "Yes! Show me that passion! That /fear/." His eyes are bright as he stalks Chay, so fast that he's hard to follow.

Erendriel is following Mikilos's lead pretty blatantly at this point. When all she sees him doing is something non-flashy, she chooses not to do anything flashy either. Not that she can safely burning hands the area anyway. So, she watches, and thinks.

"No--" And, hunter-caste again, Chay raises his bow. He aims it at the creature. "Mage--get uss out of here." It takes everything he can do not to run.

And the creature is--the creature is--the former slave knows that tone. He knows the twistedness of the Charneth.

The bow twitches. The sith-makar stares. Chay vanishes from sight.

Mikilos moves -towards- the vampire, furious, fingers clenched and teeth grit. Another mutter of words and three rays of scorching power fly from his hands and eyes at the undead, not only perhaps drawing attention, but helping to get rid of some of the snow in the way with another blast of magical fire.

GAME: Mikilos casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20

Sargon turns his back on the elven creature and dashes back to where Chay was. When the latter disappears, Sargon veers towards where the vampire is. As Mikilos casts his spell, Sargon accelerates even more. Trying to time it so that he reaches the vampire just after Mikilos' spell, he does his best to tackle the enemy.

The vampire seems entirely undismayed by Chay's effort to go unnoticed by turning invisible. In fact it's hard to tell that if he actually can or can't see Chay now because his aim remains remarkably true. The scorching ray strikes him, but only slightly, and clearly only because he's distracted by his current quarry.

It's the weird creature that saves the vampire from Sargon, as his action to leave it's range gives it a chance to attack, and to move closer for another strike at his back. It might be nearly dead, but it's still alive enough for that much.

Chay stares. He looks down, and grips an arrow in his hand. He asks for the Hunter's divine favor--and guidance. The Hunter's GUIDANCE. The arrow begins to glow faintly, in the invisible space that Chay occupies.

The snow probably leaves footprints. He leaps aside, trying to double over other areas and steps.

GAME: Erendriel casts Ray of Frost. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15

Erendriel continues just to follow Mikilos's lead. If he's shooting fire, she's shooting fire! From the tree still, but she's walking down in order to try to get closer to Mikilos.

Sargon is struck in the back, and flings himself forward in a roll to try and avoid the brunt of the impact. Try...and fail. When he rises his shirt is shredded on the back, and the green skin underneath is slashed just as savagely. A small part of him resolves to never again leave the city without wearing something more rugged. But he quickly pushes the thought aside. This creature is tougher than he even it appears to be. He turns to face it, raising his fists once more, and once more turning to present a slimmer profile. He lashes forward, punching in a series of blows aimed to batter it's face and chest.

Mikilos close now, the elf grabs a sprinkle of sparkling dust from his pouch, tossing it over the vampire. There's a flash of Holy Power, as raw Positive Energy is unleashed in a tight field. Not a good day to be undead.

GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d20+12: (13)+12: 25

Sometimes. ...sometimes in the hunt, there comes a time. The hunter rushes to the clearing, only to find their prey facing them. In theory, the hunter should be Chay.

Chay has never been the hunter. He palms the arrow though, and prays. Looks towards Mikilos and the mage's casting, and he prays. He prays to the Hunter Dragon of the jungles and streams and--

Jabs the wooden device DEEPLY into the side of the vampire. In a flash, he reappears, scared and staring. "Go. Away," he rasps at the creature. Staring at him.

Pushes himself away. Stumbling.

He's going to run.

Erendriel is still walking off of the tree and back onto the ground, going toward Mikilos. And on the way, she zaps another ray of frost/FIRE! at the vamp…

Sargon lands a few blows, including one that knocks the creature for a loop again. This time the Oruch clenches his jaw. He doesn't turn away. He sees an opening. The abomination's elvish head is lowered just enough for Sargon to employ a finishing blow he discovered while fighting against a worg. He punches downward, on the back of the enemy's head, and then again, and again, as many blows as it takes until he's bashed it to the ground.

The creature is dead, but the vampire... Seems to simply ignore Mikilos' spell entirely. It's the stab to his side that has his attention. He lets loose a happy little sound and looks positively gleeful however rather than pained. He tips his head back just for an instant and then he's chasing after Chay, trying to catch him up in those terribly long arms and he moves /so/ quick. Faster than any natural thing can move. Blood drips from the arrow in his side leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

-TBC