Feathered Menace, Part 1

GM: Thurid

Summary: A team of adventurers are hired to protect an airship making the passage through the Redridge mountains from monster attacks, in the hopes of deterring the monsters from continuing to attack in the future.

The job has been posted at the guild and taverns around the city- There is need for adventurers. A mercantile company who ship goods by airship through the Redridge mountains have recently been encountering more than the typical number of monsters attacking their cargo vessels. They had initially tried amping up their own security forces, but the monsters are clever, and have been picking at less well equipped ships. And so the decision has been made to hire adventurers to baord one of the less heavily armed ships, with the intent to draw the monsters out and give them a good seeing off.

Waiting at the airship docks for the adventurers is a representative of the Mercantile guild bankrolling this operation- a corpulent goblin in velvet and furs, flamboyantly dyed with indigo and vermillion, as well as the ship's captain- a sour faced half-sil man- to see them aboard.

The blue robed cleric of Althea arrives with little fanfare. His steel mask gleaming as he looks from person to person, nods to the Gobli nand Captain. "Good day, I am Sark from the Temple via the Guild." He makes a circular motion then crosses it with his left hand's gloved finger tips. Not an inch of skin is visible on his form. "May Althea bless this ship, this mission and the souls of all who take part in it."

The wizard's oruch blood was identified only by her stubby tusks and her green skin. Other than that, she walked to the airship dock and looked upon the ship in question. She then took a moment to look at the captain. The raven sitting atop her axe-staff spread its wings and uttered a single word. "Unnatural!"

Ignoring the bird, the half-oruch approached the gobber and said, "Good day, sir. I am here to assist in protecting your considerable investment in airship and cargo. May name is Glasha, and this is Luna."

Pelka swoops down from above and lands in front of the goblin. "An job ON an airship?" he sqwuaks. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this!" Years, is the answer. Ever since he learned how to fly. "Ahem. Is there a workspace on board?"

The corpulant goblin looks between the three of them, and huffs a bit, "s'pose you'll do." he says then. "Job's simple, really. Get on the airship, it'll fly the usual route, you kill everything gets too close." he says then, pointing with a gold-and-gemstone bedecked finger at the Captain, "Harris will be piloting. There'll be a crew of four, belowdecks, too. Try to stop them from getting hurt, too- unless you know how to pilot an airship yourselves." he says and then lets out an ugly laugh. "I'll leave you to get 'em aquainted." he tells Harris, and then begins to take his leave.

The sour-faced half sill looks between the three of them, and then gestures towards the gangplank to board it. "It's a merchantman, Khazad built." he explains, then, "Gas bags are reinforced, but not military grade so bigger nasties could damage them. Engines, hold, galley and bunks are belowdecks. Up here, we have the masts, propellers- and some ballista." he says, pointing them out in turn. "I'll be in the wheelhouse, there." he points to the rectangular structure breaking up the otherwise flat deck. "feel free to look around. We'll cast off when you're ready." he says, and then leaves the adventurers to look around while he heads for his wheelhouse.

Glasha looks at the other two who've shown up. "I'm learning to fly, and I can probably fly this thin in an emergency, but let's do our best not to let it come to that, yes?" she offers, hoping the other two will agree.

The idea of killing 'everything' does not seem to sit well with the robed cleric, though he does not voice this concern beyond with his body language. As he walks onto the ship, the cleric takes a moment to check his crossbow and brush his gloved fingers across his holy symbol. "Deaths would be a failure. Althea will protect us." He says simply as he boards.

Pelka crosses the plank and walks around to familiarize himself with the layout of the ship. His gaze is drawn repeatedly to the wheelhouse. He waits for the other adventurers and then chirps, "Shall we go look belowdeck? I doubt we'll have to do any fighting down there but we'll probably be spending a lot of our time there."

Glasha holds out her hand, Luna jumping down onto it. "Keep your eyes open up here," she says. "Feel free to freak out if you need to." Luna takes to the wing and flies to the wheelhouse, sitting anywhere she can get a good perch that isn't the controls themselves. Glasha turns to Pelka. "Very well, Luna will alert me if there's an emergency."

The ship is on the smaller side- although still impressive- most of its bulk is given over to the magitech workings and cargo space, meaning the quarters are rather spare- bunk beds. The galley is cramped, but servicable. The decking is all tarred wood, grippy even when wet- and there is a chest-high railing around the upper deck. The gas bag is a peanut shape, some kind of durable oiled fabric, and wrapped in a heavy web of ropes which binds it in place to three sturdy masts on the deck.

The propellors- of which there are three- can switch between two orientations thanks to complex brass and steel mechanisms, one to adjust height and another to provide forwards momentum and steering. Large propellor blades gleam in the sun waiting to take off. The crew allow the adventurers to see the magitech engine and cargo holds, so they can get to know the ship, but insist on accompanying them. The hold is no where near capacity, loaded mostly with provisions for the journey. The magitech engine at the fore of the ship is driven by a crystal-resonance mana flux drive, which superheats intake air using fire-aspected transmutations and pipes it through turbines in the propellors to drive them. It also heats the air in the gas bag to keep the ship buoyant in flight.

Once the party are well acquainted with the vessel, it sets sail. The drive spins to life, the partially inflated gas bags filling the rest of the way, and the vertically oriented props spinning up to speed as it drifts away from the docks- providing a lovely view of the snow-sprinkled city below, before it begins to head towards the mountains on the horizon.

Sark shifting on his feet Sark looks around the ship quietly. Then nods and follows after the others to inspect bellow decks. "Very well, we should also meet the crew we will be working with." After the tour and the return above decks, Sark makes his way to the railing to peer out into the chill air. His eleven eyes searching the horizon carefully. A thin line of steam lazilly drifting upwards from his breath as he hunches his shoulders inwards to draw his robes tighter around his form.

Pelka cocks his head to one side. "Meet the crew?" he repeats. "That makes sense..." he lowers his voice. "Are we going to be working with them? Do you know what to do on an airship...?" He swivels his eyes to look at Sark.

The cleric shrugs, making an open handed motion with his left hand. "I know to try and not fall off. That is about it. I have only ever been on one of these once before. I imagine is worst comes to worst I will be preforming triage and medicine. If you are looking to me to handle the vessel. I am afraid it would be a very short trip, with quite a large amount of screaming." Through the steel mask Sark's voice takes on enough of a metallic tone to make it difficult to know what part of what he says is a joke or not.

"Alright, fine," Glasha says. "Would be good to be up on deck when things happen. I wouldn't mind a walkthrough of the controls in case I need to handle her in an emergency."

Pelka listens to Sark and then replies in a sage voice. "Right. Same as me then." He rotates his head, blinks and then bobs it ever so slightly in the direction of a crew member conveniently within view. "I suppose we're protecting them more than working with them." He blinks again. "Or more accurately, hunting whatever is menacing them." He falls silent for a bit, but at Glasha's suggestion he head-bobs affirmatively. "After you!"

The crew are two goblins, one an artificer who is in charge of the engine and one a navigator. They bicker constantly, and it is an open secret that they are an item amongst the others on the crew. There is also a surly half-oruch who seems to be doing his best to live up to oruch stereotypes. He speaks little, prefering to grunt or shrug in response to questions posed, and is a rigger, responsible for patching holes in the gas bag, repairing the hull, and various other tasks that often require hanging from a harness a thousand feet from the ground. Finally there is the cook and barber, a human who seems to be mostly responsible for drinking the supply of wine onboard, although he does throw some slop together in the galley and claims to know his way around a healer's kit- also claims that wine steadies his hand, so here's hoping no one needs any stitches.

Control of the airship is fairly complex, even the brief version is not particularly brief. In addition to the wheel, there are an array of levers and pedals which are used to adjust trim, buoyancy of the bag, flow rate of the engine, turbine speed and the like. Instruction mostly comes in the form of single-sylablle answers while the ship is underway towards the mountains.

The first leg of the journey is uneventful, the air is even crisper above the snow-covered ground than down on it, and visibility is good- the cold sapping moisture from the air. As they draw neaer to the mountains, though, a dark cloud looms on the horizon- threatening stormy weather, perhaps.

<OOC> Thurid says, "Anyone who would like, give me a perception check."

GAME: Glasha rolls Perception: (10)+1: 11

GAME: Sark rolls perception: (19)+7: 26

GAME: Pelka rolls perception: (8)+20: 28

<OOC> Sark whistles. +20? Wow.

<OOC> Glasha is similarly impressed. Pelka squints at th cloud. He reaches into a bag tucked into his waist. His entire arm disappears into the opening, hinting at some magic effect, before emerging again. A spyglass is held in his taloned hand. He extends it and then holds it to an eye, peering in the direction of the cloud. "Birds." He lowers the spyglass and then offers it to the others. "Those aren't clouds, they're a flock of birds." His other hand unslings a thunderbelcher fromnhis back. "Headed this way."

There is a nod from Sark as he peers at the distance grouping. "Appears to be, I do not know what kind. Do they usually fly that close in that big of a group?" Reflexively the cleric draws the hand crossbow from within his robes. The compact weapon loaded and ready.

===== <OOC> Thurid says, "as a note, there are four ballistae on the deck of the ship, with bolts in barrels next to them, which the crew are happy for you to use if would like."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Ballista are treated as Martial for proficiency purposes, but have a -4 penalty for being unwieldy unless you are Large, and take a full round action to reload. But, it's up to you."

<OOC> Sark nods, would like to throw out a bless but will wait till they are closer so we get most of the 5 minute duration.

<OOC> Thurid says, "They're several hundred feet away, so assuming they fly at the normal speed of birds of their size, you probably have thirty seconds or so before they are upon you."

<OOC> Sark says, "Thats close enough, I would like to bless."

<OOC> Glasha casts Mage Armor from her cloak, then will move to stand in front of the door to the wheelhouse.

<OOC> Thurid says, "They are coming from the northeast."

GAME: Sark casts Bless. Caster Level: 5 DC: 14

<OOC> Sark says, "Everyone gets +1 morale to attack, and save against fear."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Any actions for you before they get too close, Pelka?"

GAME: Pelka casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 8 DC: 16

GAME: Pelka casts Ablative Barrier. Caster Level: 8 DC: 16

GAME: Pelka casts Greater Magic Weapon. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17

<OOC> Pelka keeps forgetting to say he cast those when the 'adventuring day' starts but they are all longish duration spells =====

Moving to the ballista Sark makes a quick series of motions with his hand and murmurs a prayer to Althea. The soothing touch of divine magic flows outwards from him, strengthening hearts and arms against the incoming foes. "Can we light one of these bolts on fire and send it out into the cloud? Maybe make them think twice. I would hope a giant burning arrow would be off putting." He watches the incoming menace and attaches his light sheild to his arm.

Pelka moves over next to the ballista. He jerks his head to look at Sark and then a thought seems to occur to him. Raising his voice (unfortunately his naturally high register turns it into something of a shriek) he says: "Everyone, There's a flock of birds headed this way. It could be nothing...or it could be the monsters harrassing this route. Be ready for anything!" Then he runs his eye over the ballista. "I suppose we can try," he continues to Sark.

Glasha moves to stand in front of the door, her greataxe in both hands, although she's still leaning on it like a staff. "What's going to happen with a flock of birds big enough to look like a cloud?"

"Murder," Luna says in a pale imitation of Glasha's voice.

"Yeah, probably," Glasha says with a nod.

"No," Luna says, insistently. "All the proper groups of birds are called murders."

Glasha raises an eyebrow as she looks up at her familiar. "You know that's crows, right?"

"Really?" Luna asks, tilting her head. "What's ravens, then?"

"A conspiracy or an unkindness," Glasha informs her.

"Those don't sound very nice," Luna says.

"And Murder does?" She shakes her head. "Just get ready. I think this unkindness is about to envelop us."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ATTENTION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Thurid has dropped a TIMESTOP!

Please +init, then cease all roleplay and actions immediately and wait for Thurid to instruct you further. You may earn RPP by logging a scene for a GM.

For in-combat commands, type: +thelp.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

As the cloud draws nearer, it begins to become more obvious that it is a flock of birds rather than just a cloud- even to those who couldn't see before. What also becomes obvious that there is some kind of dark blob in the middle of it- and what exactly that is becomes apparent as the flock parts. An enormous crow, easily the size of a warhorse, presses forwards out of the mass of birds. It's dark eyes gleam in the sun as it emerges, massive wings beating as it comes towards the airship- the flock reforms behind it, now they are closer, the cacoughanous sound of wingbeats and cawing reaching the ears of those on the ship.

Strangely enough, this enormous crow seems to have some sort of paint- a dark crimson pigment of some sort staning its feathers in patterns starting at its eyes and sweeping back all the way to its pinions.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round One - Init 21.

It is now Glasha's turn! Crow Flock is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Glasha, you're first."

<OOC> Glasha will summon a dire bat. "I mean, can't think of a reason not to try to intercept it while it's far off with a huge flying mammal."

<OOC> Glasha says, "That's a full round action for me, though."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright, cast and pose- that's a full round so it'll appear next turn."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round One - Init 19.

It is now Crow Flock's turn! Pelka is next!

Glasha blinks as she sees the huge crow. "Murder it is, then," she says. She then begins gesturing with her hand, speaking out in unknowable, unpronounceable words. Her hand postures in very precise ways that look uncomfortable as she utters the language unlearnable by mortal minds.

Luna glares out at the giant crow. "You're dead to me, cousin!" she calls out, spreading her comparatively tiny wings and almost certainly unheard over the droning engine noise, the din of the murder's wingbeats, and general wind at this altitude.

The flock of crows blots out the northeasten sky, thousands or more of the dark-feathered birds flap their wings and dart and drive and twist their way through the air- it's like a feeding frenzy, but it doesn't seem as though an abundance of insects are on the menu. While many of the birds drift about at the fringes of the flock the largest bulk of them advance directly towards the airship, cawing and screeching furiously.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round One - Init 18.

It is now Pelka's turn! Sark is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Pelka, you're up."

Pelka raises the thunderbelcher to his shoulder - and reveals by peering through it that the an additional tube above the main body of the rifle is not an extra gunbarrel but is actually a sight. He draws a bead on the large crow, tightens his talon on the firing lever. Then pauses. He carefully shifts his aim to one side. Then he lowers his aim fractionall. Then raises it a bit. Precious moments spent finding a space unoccupied by any crows, large or small. When he finally fires the sparking projectiles sizzles through the flock without singing so much as a feather. A warning shot. "No time for the flaming ballista now," he asides to Sark. "But a great idea. I'll remember!!"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Attack on the giant crow, then?"

<OOC> Pelka sighs so many typoes. Got it, apologies. No just a warning shot, intentionally trying to miss them in hopes of scaring them off.

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright. Roll intimidate"

GAME: Pelka rolls intimidate: (7)+0: 7

GAME: Thurid rolls 3: (12)+3: 15

<OOC> Thurid says, "I'll pose the result on big crow's turn"

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round One - Init 15.

It is now Sark's turn! Giant Crow is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Sark, you're up. There is a regular bolt already in the ballista, if you wanted to fire it."

<OOC> Sark says, "I would like to fire balista at big crow."

<OOC> Sark says, "Yes, so -4 ranged, and I get +1 from blesS?"

<OOC> Thurid says, "+1 from bless does apply, yes. You're at 150' so let me just double check the increment for ballista."

<OOC> Thurid says, "150, so no penalty for range."

<OOC> Thurid says, "So yeah, you'll be at +1-4"

GAME: Sark rolls ranged+1-4: (2)+6+1+-4: 5

<OOC> Thurid says, "Miss! You still have a move action, if you want to take it."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round One - Init 9.

It is now Giant Crow's turn! Glasha is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Giant Crow charges Pelka"

"What is that?" Sark exclaims as the giant painted raven appears. He quickly lets his hand crossbow fall from his fingers and hang from it's sling as he takes up the ballista and aims. "Hopefully this will harm it, and drive it off before it can be a threat!" Sighting down the ballista's guage he takes careful measured aim and pulls the metal trigger sending the bolt hurling out at the enemy. Where it whistles past the entire mob. There is a moment where the masked cleric looks down and steps back from the ballista in embarasement as a horde of birds turn their heads to watch the bolt sail off in the distance and then look back at the ship and snigger.

GAME: Thurid rolls 8+2: (7)+8+2: 17

<OOC> Thurid says, "But glances offf armor!"

The giant crow lets out a mighty caaaaw as the two projectiles sail past it, and with one mighty flap of its wings it gains a few feet of elevation- then it spreads them wide, and hurtles towards the one with the louder, sulfur-scented weapon. It's razor sharp beak comes hurtling towards Pelka, but grazes harmlessly against the metal- and the bird flaps its wings, buffeting them with gusts of wind as it slows for its attack.

GAME: NEW ROUND!

Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Two - Init 21.

It is now Glasha's turn! Crow Flock is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Glasha, your bat appears. Where do you want it?"

<OOC> Glasha says, "I'm going to have it use its smite evil and attack the giant crow."

GAME: Glasha rolls +5: (20)++5: 25

<OOC> Thurid says, "Threat, roll to confirm."

GAME: Glasha rolls 5: (17)+5: 22

<OOC> Thurid says, "Crit, roll damage. No bonus from the smite."

<OOC> Glasha says, "What gets doubled?"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Base, strength and enhancement."

GAME: Glasha rolls 2d8+8: (6)+8: 14

GAME: Glasha casts Summon Monster III. Caster Level: 5 DC: 19

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright, go ahead and pose."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Two - Init 19.

It is now Crow Flock's turn! Pelka is next!

GAME: Sark rolls weapon3: (4)+6: 10

GAME: Pelka rolls 11: (13)+11: 24

Glasha takes a deep breath as a shaft of light cuts through the cloud cover. A screech is heard as a bat the size of the giant crow seems to fall from the heavens, catching itself with its great, leathery wings. The beast's coat sheens as waves flow through it from the wind of the fall. Swooping out of the dive, its jaws open wide to reveal dangerous-looking fangs. A clear expert in aerial combat, the bat sinks its teeth into the neck of the giant crow, aiming to take it down.

Luna barks out a laugh. She calls out over Glasha's further unspeakable utterances, "Ha! That's what you get for disrespecting a clearly superior corvid!"

GAME: Glasha rolls 5: (10)+5: 15

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright, that's fine. You hit as well, roll damage."

GAME: Glasha rolls 1d8+4: (6)+4: 10

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (2)+5: 7

<OOC> Thurid says, "You manage to take out a few of the Murder as they approach, but your attacks are not especially effective against the swarm. Feel free to pose your AoOs, while I pose their movement."

As Luna calls out, Glasha casting, the clearly hungry bat bites at the passing murder, chomping down several of their number as they pass.

The mass of birds descend after the giant one in their midst, unheeding as some of their number are slain- feathers and blood and severed wings falling from the sky, some landing on the deck, but they are relentless as they move in. The din is almost unbearable, as shiny claws and black feathers blot out vision. Glasha and Sark both find themseles utterly inundated, surrounded by the avian menaces.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Two - Init 18.

It is now Pelka's turn! Sark is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "That's fine, Pelka, what action are you taking?"

<OOC> Thurid says, "You're adjacent to both the giant crow and the swarm of normal crows."

<OOC> Pelka would like to fly 5' up off the deck, then punch giant crow with Titan Wrench in a full attack

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright, go ahead and roll 'em."

GAME: Pelka rolls 11: (17)+11: 28

GAME: Pelka rolls 6: (12)+6: 18

<OOC> Thurid says, "Two hits."

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (10)+5: 15

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (9)+5: 14

<OOC> Thurid says, "Brutal- that kills it. Pose it."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Two - Init 15.

It is now Sark's turn! Giant Crow is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Sark, you're up! The giant crow just got smashed. You're in the middle of the flock."

Pelka flinches as the crow pecks at him. It's reflex, not pain: an armored vest protects him from the attack just as it was meant to. Pelka releases one hand from his thunderbelcher. The wrench-like bracer snaps into place over that fist, just in time to swat at smaller crows as the flock moves in. Next the egalrin spreads his own wings wide, angling them just so to let the air of the ship's own passage provide him with lift. As he rises he punches at the larger bird, knocking it senseless...or worse. "I didn't want to do this!" he shrieks. It's true. He wanted to frighten them away. And failing that, to pick them off from a great distance using his artifice-inspired weaponry.

<OOC> Sark says, "I'd like to activate my bladed belt, and flail helplessly around."

<OOC> Sark says, "Summon rapier, and stab something."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright! Roll it."

GAME: Sark rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26

<OOC> Thurid says, "Hit! Roll damage/"

GAME: Sark rolls 1d6+3: (1)+3: 4

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Two - Init 9.

It is now Giant Crow's turn! Glasha is next!

GAME: NEW ROUND!

Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Three - Init 21.

It is now Glasha's turn! Crow Flock is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Glasha, concentration check."

Waving his shield over his head as the swarm, swarms. Sark reaches down to brush his fingers along the extra belt at his waist. The odd corded material glows and reforms into a rapier in his hand. He then lunges with the blade, awkwardly skewers a pair of crows. "Ah! Ah!" Waving the blade, and trying to get the feebly flapping corpses off it's length the cleric exlcaims mightily. "AAH!"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Sorry, just caster level check not concentration."

GAME: Glasha rolls 5: (17)+5: 22

<OOC> Thurid says, "You lose the spell because of swarm distraction."

<OOC> Thurid says, "What will your bat do?"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Caster level check for distraction, if you are casting a spell while inside of a swarm."

<OOC> Glasha says, "In that case, I am going to fly into a murderous rage and start swinging my greataxe at the swarm while my bat chows down on crows in the other swarm."

GAME: Glasha rolls weapon1: (12)+5: 17

GAME: Glasha rolls 5: (4)+5: 9

<OOC> Glasha says, "Pretty sure the bat misses."

<OOC> Thurid says, "It does. You hit, though."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll damage"

GAME: Glasha rolls 1d12+3: (9)+3: 12

<OOC> Thurid says, "A decent hit! You also have a move action."

<OOC> Glasha says, "Can I take a five foot step into the wheel house and slam the door closed?"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Opening or closing the door would be a move action in itself."

<OOC> Thurid says, "You can open it now, if you want, but you wouldn't be able to move inside until next turn"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Go ahead and pose."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Three - Init 19.

It is now Crow Flock's turn! Pelka is next!

Glasha flinches and raises her shoulder as she gestures and speaks out the eldritch words. She thrusts her hand out at the end of the casting. Dust devils can be seen pulling dust off the deck of the ship into mini tornadoes, but they dissipate before they can be filled properly with energy from the elemental plane of air, dissolving into nothing. Glasha watches this happen and flips the base of her axe-staff up, catching it in her casting hand before swinging it through the murder of crows. She displaces Luna from the top of it and slices through several crows. "Stupid birds!" she screams out.

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (10): 10

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (8): 8

<OOC> Thurid says, "We'll finish this round, at least. The crows stay put and peck!"

The murder of crows do not seem deterred by the largest among them being so handily taken apart by the adventurers, nor many of their number being slain. They launch into a frenzy, clawing and pecking and buffetting both Sark and Glasha, razor sharp talons and beaks finding every nook and cranny to reach and tear at flesh.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Three - Init 18.

It is now Pelka's turn! Sark is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Pelka, you're spared from the swarm for now. What will you do?"

<OOC> Pelka will move to space x: 7 y:7 on the map (the little corner between both swarms) and swing at the part of the swarm that went after Glasha

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll it!"

GAME: Pelka rolls 11: (11)+11: 22

<OOC> Thurid says, "Hit!"

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (9)+5: 14

<OOC> Thurid says, "Solid hit, more crows are slain. Pose it."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Three - Init 15.

It is now Sark's turn! Glasha is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Sark, you're up. You're still surrounded by crows, and you and Glasha are hurt. What will you do?"

<OOC> Sark says, "I would like to channel, selective to make sure the big crow gets no healz."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright"

Pelka rises a few more feet, then tucks into a swooping dive. Only it is the shortest possible dive he can manage, as he pulls up and slams his wrench-arm into the flock of crows that is harassing Glasha. "Don't let them into the wheelhouse!" he squawks. It's quite possible that he failed to absorb all of the piloting lesson. But he knows a flock of crows won't help anyone to pilot the ship.

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll your channel."

GAME: Sark rolls 3d6: (14): 14

<OOC> Thurid says, "You also have a move"

<OOC> Thurid says, "If you want to take it."

<OOC> Sark says, "No I think I'm good. As long as i can see everyone and reach the mwith spells."

As the birds begin to strike the robed cleric protects his head with his shield. Bringing the emblazoned seal of Althea to bare. He intones a quiet prayer and a burst of divine energy rolls outwards from the upraised shield. Mending wounds and staunching bleeding. Then with a sigh, Sark goes back to waving his rapier, trying to get the dead birds shish kabob'd off it's length.

GAME: NEW ROUND!

Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Four - Init 21.

It is now Glasha's turn! Crow Flock is next!

<OOC> Glasha says, "So, my bat is around through turn 8."

<OOC> Glasha says, "(I'm not here for very long.)"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright. I can pull its stats from the SRD. Do you have augment summoning?"

<OOC> Glasha says, "I do not."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Ok, I'll NPC the bat until it goes byebye."

<OOC> Glasha says, "Move action last turn to open door, move through it, close door, taking Glasha myself out of the fight, but letting you keep the bat active and fighting birds."

<OOC> Thurid says, "The bat will attack Sark's swarm."

GAME: Thurid rolls 4: (13)+4: 17

GAME: Thurid rolls 1d8+4: (7)+4: 11

With the giant Crow tumbling away to the ground below, the dire bat turns its attention over towards the numerous smaller snacks that present themselves. It lashes out, wicked fangs puncturing the breasts and tearing off wings as it snaps up mouth-fulls of the feathered creatures.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Four - Init 19.

It is now Crow Flock's turn! Pelka is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "The flock moves, provoking AoOs from all."

GAME: Thurid rolls 4: (11)+4: 15

GAME: Thurid rolls 1d8+4: (8)+4: 12

GAME: Pelka rolls 11: (4)+11: 15

GAME: Sark rolls 1d20+7: (16)+7: 23

<OOC> Thurid says, "Both hit, roll damage"

GAME: Sark rolls 1d6+3: (5)+3: 8

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (6)+5: 11

<OOC> Thurid says, "Some more solid hits, you're whittling them away."

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (10): 10

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (7): 7

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (10): 10

Some of the crows continue to scrabble at the door to the wheelhouse as Glasha retreats, but many of them turn their beady eyes on fresh prey and move to envelop Pelka and the Bat, now. Though no few of their number are cut apart as they advance, they nevertheless manage to find gaps in armor and toughened hide and tear away strips of flesh- flying away once they have their bloody prizes, and letting yet more swoop in to join the fray.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Four - Init 18.

It is now Pelka's turn! Sark is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Pelka, you're up."

<OOC> Pelka will keep swinging!

GAME: Pelka rolls 11: (4)+11: 15

GAME: Pelka rolls 6: (8)+6: 14

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright, they both hit!"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll damage."

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (4)+5: 9

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+5: (7)+5: 12

<OOC> Thurid says, "Your part of the flock is starting to look pretty thin. Pose it, along with your AoO if you please."

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Four - Init 15.

It is now Sark's turn! Glasha is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Oop! I forgot to shift the first five points of damage against you to nonlethal, Pelka."

<OOC> Thurid says, "For your ablative."

<OOC> Sark would like to continue stabbing.

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll 'em!"

GAME: Sark rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26

<OOC> Thurid says, "Hit! Damn, I feel bad denying all these crits ;)"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll damage."

GAME: Sark rolls 1d6+3: (1)+3: 4

The robed cleric flicks his blade back and forth as he's cut, bitten and clawed. Stains of crimson dotting his blue robes, both from the enemy and his own flesh. As the swarm moves he lances through a few of the flying threats, then again strikes out at them with seeming pin-point accuracy. Only to fall back to trying to get the increasing number of dead birds off his blade. His arms starting to tire from waving a more and more ludicrious collection of feebly flapping wings.

GAME: NEW ROUND!

Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Five - Init 21.

It is now Glasha's turn! Crow Flock is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Bat is hurt! Bat bites back."

GAME: Thurid rolls 4: (13)+4: 17

GAME: Thurid rolls 1d8+4: (4)+4: 8

<OOC> Thurid might as well pose the crows together, so will resolve their turn as well.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Five - Init 19.

It is now Crow Flock's turn! Pelka is next!

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (7): 7

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (4): 4

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (10): 10

The Murder is beginning to disperse- bit by bit, they are thinning out- those who got their pound of flesh are happy enough to scatter, and they are becoming warier of the blades now that their frenzy is drawing to a close. They are thinning out, but not yet dispersed. The bat grabs another mouth full of the birds- before letting out a near-inaudible screech that stabs at the eardrums like a needle as the birds tear its wings to tatters. It alights on the hand rail, flapping the bloody scraps of leather once before tucking them into its body protectively.

Meanwhyile, they gouge and claw and peck at Sark and Pelka still, beaks and the deck underfoot both wet and sticky, coated in life blood and feathers.

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Five - Init 18.

It is now Pelka's turn! Sark is next!

<OOC> Thurid says, "Pelka, you're up again."

<OOC> Pelka will attack some more, melee seems to be my best option. But will also turn on titan armor for some extra strength

GAME: Pelka activates his Titan Armor, gaining: +4 Str

GAME: Pelka rolls 13: (9)+13: 22

GAME: Pelka rolls 8: (5)+8: 13

<OOC> Thurid says, "First hits"

<OOC> Thurid says, "Roll damage"

GAME: Pelka rolls 2d6+7: (8)+7: 15

<OOC> Thurid says, "That disperses part of the swarm, pose it!"

GAME: Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Five - Init 15.

It is now Sark's turn! Glasha is next!

<OOC> Sark says, "Cure moderate wounds on myself."

<OOC> Thurid says, "Alright, cast and roll for healing."

GAME: Sark casts Cure Moderate Wounds. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15

GAME: Sark rolls 2d8+5: (10)+5: 15

Stumbling back under the endless avian assault. Sark feels blood running along the inside of his mask and armor. He clutches his sheild tightly to his form and presses the guard of his rapier to his chest. Murmuring another prayer, beseeching the hand of Althea. The robed cleric washes himself in divine energy, sealing up and washing away a few of his injuries and wounds.

GAME: NEW ROUND!

Thurid advances the initiative order.

Round Six - Init 21.

It is now Glasha's turn! Crow Flock is next!

Pelka lands on the deck with a light thump. His wings fold in, but bits of magicite on his vest begin to glow brightly. A hiss emits from somewhere, accompanied by a hazy distortion in the air above him, like the wavering air that makes up a distant mirage. Pelka wades into the flock and pounds a few more crows out of the air. His motions are somehow more deliberate than before. "Really...didn't...want to resort to this!" he grunts.

<OOC> Thurid says, "Bat is on its last legs, but will go down swinging."

GAME: Thurid rolls 4: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)

GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6: (7): 7

<OOC> Thurid says, "And it dies."

The beleaguered bat is beginning to tire- and it shows. Its wings flutter and it snaps once or twice more, but finds no purchase- the constant avian assault is wearing it down, and it can no longer grip the railing. It topples over, ad then spirals towards the earth far below, trailing streamers of glitter as its physical form falls back away from the material plane.

Pelka seems relieved when the crows fluttering around the wheelhouse dwindle away. He turns, and even though the remaining crows are at the ideal range now for his thunderbelcher...he instead begins to clump across the deck towards them. He doesn't his Titan Armor often to enhance his physical attributes. Perhaps he's forgotten the rush it brings. Positioning himself near Sark, the Egalrin swats away at the smaller avian forms, mighty blows that finally break up the remainder of the flock.

Though a few stragglers remain, snapping at bits of bloody cloth or other scaps that might be scattered across the deck, the airship clears the bulk of the swarm. They are still traveling through the diffuse group of birds for some time- but they can see as they move away from it that it is much less dense than before their encounter, and dispersing still. Whatever uniting force that brought this megaflock together has been broken by the savage combat.

The sky is clear again, now, as the airship moves over a mountain pass, between two snow-covered peaks. With the threat dealt with, at least for the time being, the crew emerge from hiding to help swab the decks and check for any damage done by the battle.