TWO HUNDRED NINETY TWO
(I/C)
Snapping his fingers, Brendon excitedly pointed into the room, “Lass gave them bring the statue to us and stop anything trying to leave the room.”
There was a momentary pause while the party tried to decipher the Scout’s words, Wyn taking an arrow out, Lyra trying to look through the door to spot the 4 she had control over. Kovid coughed and said, “If you can understand Brendon's mangled words, I think he may have a good idea Lady Lyra."
The Scout cleared his throat and gave the dwarf a withering glare. “I’ve seen turned and destroyed undead, but I’ve never seen undead controlled like that before. What I meant was instead of us going in, have 1 of the Guardians bring us the idol and the other 3 stop anything else from either exiting or inhibiting the last from bringing us the idol.”
“Much better!” Kovid smiled, “I have a bad feeling about the crazy laughing hissing thing! Let’s see what your Guardian friends can do for us.”
“I’m on it,” she said, stepping just inside the doorway. She pointed to the zombie with the torn lips near the bookcase. “Chuckles! See that guy you were friendly a few minutes ago? Destroy him.”
The zombie turned to look at the one free willed undead and closed to it, fists upraised. “I have no desire to do this,” it intoned.
She then pointed the other one north of the bookcase and commanded, “You! Asshole!”
It turned to look at her, and all the zombies said, “I have no desire to do this.”
“Whatever,” she snarled, “Go get that statue and bring it to us.” It turned to obey, trudging across the chamber to the bookcase, grasping the silver statue and holding it close to its chest.
“Corfard will have your souls for this,” it said with a weary growl.
She then gestured to the last two. “You idiots protect us against whatever is fucking laughing.”
They proceeded to cross the room, every Guardian muttering, “Corfard will have your souls for this.”
“Yeah, this isn’t disturbing as fuck all out at all.” Lannis was working a spell slowly in his hands, frowning. “Any chance you can have them step on it? They taking the slow road to doing your actions?”
“They’re zombies, Lannis,” Lyra gritted out, concentrating. “They have one speed and it isn’t speedy.”
The laughing wheezing ‘whatever’ was stalking closer to the archway, and Wyn was frowning. “If we want de potion to stay in effect, we need to be on da room.”
“Um. Fuck that!” the wizard noted.
“I say we flip de table and use it as a barricade fer whatever be in dere.”
“Again, sounds really fucking terrible.”
Wyn blew out in frustration. “If de dwarf en Salazar cen flip de table, I cen cast light on an arrow,” he held one up, “and du Lac can shoot it to show us who that bozo in de next room is, den we all duck behind de table while Lyra tells de undead to press forward.”
“As long as I’m part of the process, it works for me,” Brendon said.
“Who would leave you out?” Kovid asked, tapping Abraxas. “Come on, give me a hand.”
“Si, Senor.” Both the fighters moved into the chamber and grabbed one set of the table legs and started to tilt it forward (no roll needed, both Str >12).
Meanwhile Wyn held the arrow a moment longer, muttering, “FAIT LUX,” the shaft blossoming with a bright orange light. “Dere you go.”
Meanwhile the two zombies were beginning to punch at each other, slow and methodical. “Oh come the fuck on,” Lannis growled. He was wrapping up his spell quickly, “I've seen this dance before, and now you receive your punishment for not doing the Time Warp! IN BET GRAV!” And a shaft of pink chaos tore through the air and slammed into the uncontrolled zombie (1d4: Pink 2), blowing off a small spray of necrotic flesh and making a stinking hole in its lower abdomen.
The table shuddered and finally fell over, Kovid and Abraxas getting low to it as Brendon tilted his head, tried to figure out where the sibilant laughter was coming from (<Hear Noise: Red 02 – holy crap!) and fired (>+6 to hit, -10 shooting blind, +6 aced hearing check, Red 17) the arrow streaking out and slamming about 10 feet or so into the next room, ending in the neck of something walking towards us .
It was a hobgoblin male, just a tad under 7’ in height, and still had the majority of its flesh, although tight and sunk against his frame. He looked down at the shaft in its neck and gave it a tentative pull, before shrugging and ignoring it. It had a wedding armband of copper on its left arm, and it strode forward like a panther, walking without worry. Its eyes were black pits, and cold was radiating off its form as it sucked the warmth and life from the very stones. It flexed its talons and gave a hissing laugh with its 4” black tongue hanging out of its ruined slash of a mouth, and winked its dead left eye at Brendon and pointed at him, making a smile.
Lyra (no roll needed, Wis >12) sighed deeply. “Fucking shit fuck Aine damn you to hell. Kovid? That point of evil thingie? That’s it. And it’s ANOTHER fucking wight!”
“It pointed at me!” Brendon gasped. “Why me!?”
“You shot it in the dark in the neck would be my guess,” Lannis sighed. He squinted. “And I would guess it’s the husband to the other wight that we killed downstairs. Which I call bullshit, because everyone knows it’s until death do you part, not after death.”
“So we have dat going for us, oui?”
“Acing the hell out of this, I tell you.” The wizard scowled. “Zombies? You could have been controlling a damned wight and you got zombies? I am terribly disappointed in you Lyra. Again, I might add.”
The wight raced forward, moving very fast as it passed under the arch, but the two Guardians were there and blocked its advance, fists up and arms raised. “We have no desire to stop you,” the left one intoned, as the wight screeched like a dozen eagles and slammed its talons and fists into the first Idiot Guardian’s exposed flank (>+3 to hit, Black 15), ripping the flesh open and making it spin wildly, crashing into the chair nearby (1d10 damage: Black 3).
Chuckles meanwhile had finally gotten enough blows in at the lone Guardian (<+4 to hit, White 3) but none of them were effective in their resolution. He was struck in turn (<+4 to hit, Black 3) and although was buffeted, was mostly whole. “We have no desire to stop you,” the other four Guardians all said.
As for the two fighting the wight, Idiot had pushed itself upright after its hit and smashed the wight (>+4 to hit, White 19) in the chest and shoulder (1d8 Damage: Red/Black 6), making it squeal in agony from the impact and redouble its efforts to get past. Taking advantage of the combat, Idiot Too tried to lay into the undead hobgoblin (<+4 to hit, White 7) but could not land a blow hard or effective enough.
(Initiative: Party Steel 4 vs Enemy Red/Black 2. Guardians always strike last in the round (until there is only 1))
Time now is Day 8, 6:02 AM
(OOC)
And there we are! This wight is the husband of the one we killed, of course when they were alive. Now they are undead monstrosities with no caring thought for anything except their unnatural hunger. Chuckles is fighting the Loner, Asshole has the statue and is in the midst of the melee heading towards us, unless stopped should be at you guys at the end of the next round with the statue, Idiot and Idiot Too are fighting the wight. We have a table on the side, and Lyra, you need to maintain 30’ distance and vision on your charges to control them. Top of round 2 – Kovid and Abraxas are in room behind table. What’s the dealio?
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