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Reaching the place of hiding
A shallow meditation pool fills this room, set off from a broad landing edged by a low wrought-iron railing. Wondrous frescoes along the walls depict souls gaining the blessings of Lathander, Torm, Helm, and Tyr. The frescoes on one wall have been twisted into abyssal forms surrounding a shimmering portal.
The pool is littered with the mutilated bodies of humans wearing the uniforms of Baldur's Gate and Elturel, along with several dozen hellriders. The swirling water of the pool roils with shadow, and is shot through with patches of black ichor where demons have fallen here. An armored man with a shield slung over his back crouches among the bodies, writhing in pain. His eyes are closed, and his hands clutch at a gold helm on his head as if trying in vain to claw it off. Unintelligible words spill from his lips, some sounding saintly and solemn, while others resonate with a cruel hissing.
As you take in the scene, you see cowering in the corner of the crypt behind sarcophagi and in alcoves, over a hundred frightened people , their eyes red and their cheeks stained with tears. Standing before a large font is a haggard woman, her gray hair matted with sweat. With one arm, she clutches a leather-bound tome to her breast. In the other hand, she wields a ceremonial mace that would probably shatter if it struck anything harder than a pillow.
Trevick's eyes widen as he takes in the harrowing scene before him, his gaze drawn to the armored man writhing in pain among the fallen bodies.
With a mixture of sadness and determination, Trevick strides forward, his voice commanding yet laced with empathy.
"Duke Ravengard," he calls out, his tone filled with urgency. "Hold on, we're here to help!"
He gestures for the rest of the group to approach cautiously, their weapons lowered as they prioritize aid over immediate action. Trevick's eyes search for any signs of the man's condition.
"Reya, Bartok, secure the area and ensure the safety of the frightened people," Trevick instructs, his voice firm. "We mustn't let any harm befall them. Hippee, Dartan, prepare to provide aid and support."
What you know:
- The man writing in pain with the helm, speaking unintelligible words is Duke Ravengard.
- The bodies of the fallen are mostly guards, both from Elturel and Baldur's gate-- the garrison that the Duke brought with him weeks ago from Baldur's gate.
- The frightened people are the Elturelian refugees.
- The haggard woman, you are not sure of her identity
Bartok looks at the Duke with a mixture of fear and concern. Taking a half step toward the water before catching himself, bartok looks down at the murky, polluted water and steps quickly back.
"Baroness save us... what is happening here?"
As Trevick speaks, Bartok's eyes move to the group of living refugees, and he let's out a whispered word of praise. Nodding at Trevick, Bartok starts to head over to the group. His eyes focus on the woman holding the mace as he approaches, and begins to speak to her calmly.
"Ello Lass. Ye look to be in need of some help. Me friends and I are here to do what we can to get ye home. What can ye tell me about what's goin on?"
The woman's weary eyes meet Bartok's, and she clutches the leather-bound tome closer to her chest. Her voice quivers slightly as she begins to speak, the weight of her experiences evident in her words.
"I...I am Pherria... Pherria Jynks. We... we We took refuge here with the Duke and a company of Hellriders when the Siege began in Elturel," she explains, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and fear. "The demons and their vile presence, the dark magic... it has engulfed our once noble city."
Dartan runs over to the Duke.
"Can you hear me? Can you understand me? I'm here to help you."
He puts his hand on the dukes shoulder and tries to calm him.
As Dartan approaches the Duke, Pherria suddenly shouts,
"No, no! Don't touch the helm! It brought forth demons the last time it was disturbed," she warns, her voice filled with urgency. "We cannot risk unleashing further chaos and darkness upon us!"
Bruno’s careful and measured steps come to a stop as he enters the chamber and sees the portal. His gaze wanders over the room, taking in Ravenguard, the refugees, and the bodies strewn about. Seeing Trevick take charge and not issue Bruno any orders gives him a sense of relief. Free from other responsibilities, he takes time to observe and study his surroundings.
- He walks over to Ravenguard and examines the helmet without touching it. The Helm is a golden helm, it appears to have the markings of Torm upon it.
- He listens intently, trying to determine if he can make out anything intelligible from what Ravenguard is muttering. He is speaking in Celestial and Abyssal, alternating between the two.
- His gaze focuses on the portal to try and determine what kind of portal it is (divine, arcane, or fiendish in nature), what’s keeping it open, and where it might lead (can he see through it to the other side?)
The portal buzzes with energy. It is hazy, but you can make out shadowy shapes moving on the other side of the portal. You are unsure what is keeping it open. You also cannot tell what kind of portal it is, Your hunch is that it is Fiendish in nature.
Arkon does not like the situation one bit. He slides into a shadow, nocking an arrow, and attempts to find an angle where he can cover the party with a shot at both the old woman and the duke. His breaths are slow and relaxed as he watches the scene unfold. His eyes scan the chamber and the people looking for any sign of explanation or danger.
Hippee takes in the new environment…these poor people, that beautiful golden helm…the even more beautiful mace wielding gray haired maiden
“oh, hellllllloooo” Hippee mutters to himself and takes a gulp of air, his breath taken away. He raises an eyebrow in delight as he gazes upon her…then notices what is behind her and snaps his head back to the Duke.
“In my experience holy water can discern those of demonic influence and those who are pure…that stuff gives me a rash…” Hippee snaps out of his thoughts at Trevicks orders “aye aye…aid and support” Hippee walks a couple steps toward the mace wielding woman and takes some rations out of his pouch “Brave soul…you have nothing to fear from us, please eat, you are weary. I am Hippee of Aglarond, Urve was my home. I am so sorry for what has happened to you here, stay your mace.” Hippee gives a kneel before the woman to show he is of no threat to her or what she guards.
Hippee's charming demeanor and genuine concern touch Pherria, who softens slightly as she sees the compassion in his actions. She accepts the rations gratefully and shares them with the other refugees, offering them a small reprieve from their hunger. Many express their gratitude, their tired eyes showing a glimmer of hope as they eat.
Lulu hovers near Duke Ravengard, her celestial features radiating a comforting light amidst the darkness of the crypt. She listens intently to the words escaping his lips, recognizing the alternating languages of Celestial and Abyssal. With her innate understanding of these languages, she comprehends the cosmic struggle unfolding within Ravengard's mind.
Her voice carries a sense of both wisdom and compassion as she addresses the rest of the group.
"Friends, I can understand some of the words spoken by Duke Ravengard," she says, "The psychic struggle within him is a battle between a divine presence, representing Torm, and a terrible, demonic entity."
Lulu's wings flutter gently as she continues, her celestial form emanating a calming presence. "The power of the portal has become entwined with both the helm and Duke Ravengard himself, I believe that he cannot remove the helm himself, but perhaps we can remove it for him."
She hovers closer to the group, her eyes filled with compassion. "We need to be cautious, but we must also act swiftly," Lulu advises. "The longer this struggle persists, the more perilous it becomes for both Duke Ravengard and the safety of Elturel. "
Pherria tells you that the Helm is called the Helm of Torms sight, and that Duke Ravengard found it in the catacombs. One of the clerics, who is now deceased, told the Duke that he who don's the helm can receive visions from Torm that can provide answers the wearer seeks. Ravengard was going to see if he could gain insight into what has befallen Elturel, and how to save the city. As soon as he donned the helm, He began to convulse and speak in Celestial and Abyssal. The Hellriders tried to remove the helm from his head, and that was when the portal opened. Devils flooded into the room and a battle occurred. Everyone was slain and Pherria and the refugees have been hiding behind the Font of holy water for the last 3 hours, as the Duke writhes in pain. They have been too scared to try and remove the helm again.
What do you do next?
10 Minutes pass
Time: 12:32 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Exploration
The Ritual
Bartok rotates his shield to his back and holsters his mace as they begin to discuss the Duke. Listening to Lulu's description of the Helm, he nods and puts his hands around the holy symbol around his neck.
"Powerful artifacts we be dealing with. I've read a bit in me studies about Helm's of sight, but I'd never thought I'd be seein one!" Looking over at Pherria, Bartok ponders for a minute before asking, "Who tried to take it off? Was it the cleric or the hellriders themselves?"
Bartok will study the helm as well and try and determine if it's attached any certain way or if he can see how the Helm may be connected to the portal. Turning to the rest of the Party, Bartok looks grim.
"No matter what happens, I be thinkin we all do it together or not at all. We'll be needin someone to guard that portal and at least a couple of us to keep an eye on the Duke as we pull."
Pherria looks at Bartok, her eyes reflecting the weight of the past events.
"It was the Hellriders who tried to pull the helm off Duke Ravengard," she says, "But as they did so, the portal began to let demons through. They fought bravely, but both the Hellriders and the demons perished in the chaos. The last remaining Hellrider succumbed to his wounds soon after the demons were slain."
She takes a deep breath, her gaze steady as she continues.
"We thought there was no hope, for we lacked a pure weapon to vanquish the evil in the pool, and there were no fighters left to stand against it," Pherria admits, "But then, your party arrived, offering us a glimmer of hope."
Bruno stoops near the Duke, listening to the struggle between the two entities inside the Duke's head. After several moments, Bruno stands up and turns to the group, his face drawn with concern.
"There are two entities struggling for control within the Duke's mind. Some divine or celestial higher power and another ... demonic entity."
Bruno glances at the portal and then back to the Duke.
"The portal is somehow tied to the helm. The Duke is preventing ... things ... from coming through, but I do not know how much longer he can hold them back. We have to remove the helm from his head to close the portal, but we cannot simply pull it off his head." Bruno looks sharply at Dartan, his eyes flicking a fraction of a second at the shield before looking at the corpses around. "That might be a good way to get the Duke, and all of us killed."
Bruno sighs heavily and rubs the bridge of his nose.
"And a simple spell won't be enough to get it off. I believe there may be rituals that might help us remove the helm, but I'm afraid I'm not sure what they are."
Bruno turns to Pherria.
"Would you or anyone else in your care know of a ritual that might help? Perhaps there is something in your tome there?" Bruno gestures at the book Pherria is gripping tightly to her sagging breast.
Pherria holds the tome close to her chest, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and determination as she addresses the party.
"Yes, I believe I know what must be done to free Duke Ravengard and elevate Torm, you must embark on a two-fold ritual," she begins, her voice steady and resolute.
Her gaze shifts towards the reflecting pool. "First, you must cleanse the shadow from the reflecting pool where Duke Ravengard kneels," she explains. "This pool, tainted by darkness, must be purified to restore its sacredness. You can use holy water from this font to cleanse it."
Pherria then turns her attention to the holy pool. "Next, you must confront the great evil lurking within the holy pool," she continues, her eyes filled with resolve. "But this must be no ordinary confrontation. To elevate Torm's power, the evil must be vanquished by a pure weapon, wielded by someone who carries a heart devoted to Torm's cause."
Her finger traces the pages of the tome, finding the passage with the prayer to Torm. "As we perform the ritual and you confront whatever evil emerges, I will recite this prayer" she says, "the act of slaying the great evil will shift the balance of power in favor of Torm, and allow the helm to be removed from Duke Ravengard."
The ranger knows nothing of rituals and portals and holds his position in the corner. He continues to scan the area (perception) for clues or insights to the situation.
Bruno nods solemnly as Pherria explains the steps to the ritual. Gesturing almost absentmindedly, Bruno casts Mage Hand and directs the spectral hand to grab an empty jar from his bag of holding. He guides the hand without even having to focus too much energy on it, almost like an afterthought. The hand moves over to holy water font and fills the jar before bringing the filled container back to Bruno. He places the lid on the jar and places the holy water in his bag before repeating the process 9 more times.
While his mage hand fills the jars with holy water, Bruno sits in thought. An evil entity that needs vanquished with a pure weapon wielded by someone “devoted” to Torm’s cause?
He glances at Dartan, the once noble and gleaming example of doing what was right. Looking at the accursed shield on his back, Bruno grimaces and shakes his head. No way to trust the Paladin is completely dedicated to anything now.
He looks to Bartok as the dwarf tends to the hungry and wounded. His dedication is Baroness is so resolute, would he be able to dedicate enough of his spirit to Torm for the ritual to work? Maybe.
He looks for Arkon throughout the chamber. Where the hell did that man disappear to now?! Bruno curses inwardly. That ranger was always running off and vanishing into the shadows. Bruno gestures quickly in the last direction he saw Arkon in and casts Message. Bruno relays the specifics of the ritual Pherria laid out in case the ranger was too far away to hear, asks if the ranger is devoted to Torm, and adds a “you may reply to this message” at the end of it. Unsure if the ranger is even in range of his spell to receive the message, Bruno moves on.
He turns and glances at Hippee’s grinning form. Absolutely fucking not. Moving on.
Reya? Maybe. She is definitely dedicated to the Hellriders but is she also devoted to Torm? Bruno makes a mental note to make sure he checks on everyone’s religious affiliations before they join the group going forward.
All things considered, Trevick seems like a safe choice. He was able to recite Torm’s prayer to get them into the catacombs and has taken charge of caring for these people.
Bruno looks back to Pherria.
“What constitutes a ‘pure’ weapon? Does it need a good rub down with the holy water? A specific prayer from Torm? Does it just need to be magical or silvered?”
Bartok catches the glow of the mage hand from the corner of his eye as it fills the jar and repeats. Finishing up the care of the small child that he was helping, he plants his hand on his knee and grunts his way to his feet. stowing his salve and healing supplies back in his pack, he heads back to Bruno, ducking under the jar on it's return pass with the water.
"Whatcha thinkin lad? Ye think we can cleanse the pool of the shadow filth?" Looking over at the pool as he stands next to Bruno, "What did the MalthKvinn say about the ritual? Anythin I can collect for ya, or maybe I have in me pouch?"
Bartok will assist Bruno with the cleansing ritual in the pool, praying to Berronar as he goes. Bartok ponders on the fact that Berronar was Moradin's wife, and Moradin was Friendly with Torm. (Even though he found him a bit pompous with all his rules and rites.) Bartok would be very sad to lose it, but if the Goddess blessed Mace is needed for the ritual, or the battle with whatever is lurking beneath the water, he will part with it, or share it with Trevick.
Bartok's Truesilver mace gleams on his back as he talks to Bruno, and Pherria catches a glimpse in her eyes, and points at it.
"That mace, that is a pure weapon, true. A weapon worthy of Torm's cause." She meets Bartok's eyes with her weary eyes, and her fear suddenly turns to hope.
"Your weapon is from the gods themselves, it is pure. This is what Torm requires. You can vanquish the terrible demon with it, but be warned, once we begin this ritual, we cannot stop it. IT will end when the evil is vanquished, or we all area dead.
Pherria flips through her book and reads softly to herself, when suddenly Ravengard moans and screams as he scratches at the helm furiously.
"We have no choice, if we don't begin the cleansing of the pool soon, I fear there will be no hope left. Take your positions quickly!"
Pherria takes a deep breath, her eyes focused and determined as she imparts the crucial instructions to the party.
"As soon as the holy water touches the pool, the evil within will be forced out," she begins, "Above all, protect the Duke at all costs. His safety is paramount."
She continues, "During the ritual, someone must keep the holy water flowing into the pool,"
*Each round of combat, a player can use bonus action to pour a vial of fresh holy water into the pool.*
"Lastly, I will read the prayer during the cleansing," she says, emphasizing the importance of her role. "I must not stop the prayer, or the ritual will fail. I have to remain within 50 feet of whatever evil entity emerges, and I must not be silenced or prevented from reciting the prayer until the evil is vanquished."
She takes a moment to let the instructions sink in before concluding, "Together, we must face this darkness with courage and unwavering faith. Trust in each other, trust in Torm's divine guidance, and we shall succeed in this crucial endeavor."
DM NOTE: I will be setting up the combat board soon -- you will all be allowed to view the board and choose your starting positions before the ritual begins. I will provide more instruction in chat, and answer any follow up questions before we begin.
15 Minutes pass
Time: 12:47 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Exploration
The Ritual Begins
Dartan snaps out of the daze he was in trying to understand the Duke.
"Pherria, must it be a weapon? This Shield was blessed by Tyr a close friend of ally of Torm. As a paladin of Tyr, I feel it is my duty to save the Duke. Duty, loyalty, trust. All of these things, I stand for. Perhaps this is the reason I am here. To complete the ritual. Perhaps a solid smite from the shield of Tyr will turn the tides in our favor. Bartok - you will not do this alone. Even among this ....carnage....I feel at peace. The power of Tyr flows through this room. This pool. Through....the Duke.. I shall protect him...and all of you....no matter the cost. "
Pherria listens to Dartan's words, and though she appreciates his dedication, she can't help but feel a sense of doubt.
"Dartan, I understand your loyalty and commitment to your duty as a paladin of Tyr," she begins, her voice gentle yet tinged with uncertainty. "But I'm not certain if the shield would count as the pure weapon we need for the ritual."
Her gaze shifts towards Dartan, a cloud of concern in her eyes.
"And there's something... a cloud, perhaps, surrounding you," she adds hesitantly, trying to find the right words. "I fear it may hinder you from fully channeling the divine strength required for this task."
Pherria takes a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. "It is not a reflection of your devotion or the power of Tyr," she clarifies
"But this ritual demands an absolute purity of purpose and a connection to Torm's divine energy. We cannot afford any hindrances in our endeavor to elevate Torm."
She looks at the rest of the party, knowing that their unity is crucial in this situation.
"Perhaps we need to find another pure weapon, one untainted by any doubts or clouds, And, if it is possible, we should try to dispel the cloud surrounding Dartan, so he can fully channel the divine strength of Tyr."
Dartan gazes at the Greatsword that the party found on Amelia's body with a mix of reverence and determination,
"Pherria, can Amelia's greatsword serve as the pure weapon we need?"
Pherria looks at the greatsword, memories of Amelia's trials and Torm's gift flooding her thoughts.
"Yes, Amelia's greatsword is most certainly a pure weapon," she confirms, "I was there when Torm bestowed it upon her, and its divine essence is undeniable."
She turns to Dartan, her eyes showing both concern and belief in his abilities.
"Dartan, I know you are dedicated to Tyr's cause and possess the strength within you," she says, her voice encouraging. "But we must address the cloud that surrounds you. We cannot afford any hindrances in this ritual."
Reya steps forward, her hand resting on Dartan's shoulder.
"Pherria, the shield that Dartan carries has been tainted by the Hidden Lord's presence," Reya explains, "It must be causing the cloud that you sense. We encountered the Hidden Lord's influence in Faerun, and it has left its mark on the shield. His name is Gargauth, and he is a demon from the depths of the nine hells."
Pherria's expression turns grim as she comprehends the gravity of the situation, but also confusion, not fully understanding what Reya's words mean,
"I am afraid I don't know anything about the Hidden Lord, but Gargauth I have heard, but we have no time to address it now. The Duke's struggle won't last much longer against the evil in the pool. We must hope that his prison will keep him shackled enough that he won't turn the tide of this ritual."
She turns back to Dartan, her eyes filled with determination.
"Dartan, if you are willing, I believe you can still proceed with Amelia's greatsword," she says, her voice resolute. "The power of Tyr is still with you, I believe he will block this 'Hidden Lord', but you must put your trust in His power, not your own."
"Reya. Bartok. You have seen me fight, You know I am better served as a shield against the unholy. We need your prowess if we are to survive. Trevick. If you are half the fighter Reya is, we will need your skills as well. Arkon....wherever you are....Aim true."
Dartan draws the greatsword and stands over the Duke, determined to vanquish the evil of this place.
"Bruno...Hippee....lay down heavy fire and cover us....May the Gods be with us."
Dartan nods to Pherria, moves into position, and says,
"Let's do this."
Arkon steps from the shadows with blades in hand,
“whatever thing comes out of this cesspool I doubt arrows will be enough. I and my blades are with you.”
The ranger stalks around the pool munching the gnomish apple tart and quick pudding.
Bruno’s eyes widen in fear momentarily before he manages to catch himself. Forcing the fear down, he sets his jaw and finishes stoppering the vial of holy water his spectral hand just delivered.
Bruno reaches into his pack and grabs a healing potion and a handful of infused goodberries. Placing them in an easily reachable pocket in case they’re needed quickly, he walks over and takes a place near Pherria. He removes the remaining empty jars and directs his mage hand to fill them up.
Bruno pauses and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his deck of cards. He pulls out 2 cards, holds his breath and then looks at them. (2d12- 12 of hearts, 1 of graves). Bruno’s spirit swells as he sees the cards. Exhaling in relief, he happily shoves them back into his pocket.
Bartok listens to Dartan's excited banter as he gets battle ready, and begins to smile as he watches him ready his weapons. They may just have a chance at this yet...
"Aye lad! Between the two of us, we can keep the beastie off 'er. If you can keep him close, I'll smash 'is fleshy bits." Looking back at Pherria, Bartok nods and encourages her. "We'll keep an eye on ya lassie. Ye just keep the water flowin."
"We might be needin someone to grab the Helm off the Duke once the battle starts. ONce the power shifts, it's supposed to loosen eh Pherria? Maybe Trevick or Reya can grab it. Don't want the little fella gettin punted across the room." Bartok looks over at Hippee with a grin.
Lookin back at Dartan, "I'm ready when you are lad. Give the Duke a rap on the noggin, and see if we can wake up what lies beneath eh?"
DM NOTE: This is the last opportunity for posting, questions or dialogue before Bartok pours the first vial of holy water. Please post anything you may wish to ask, mention or discuss before we begin.
4 Minutes pass
Time: 12:51 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Exploration
The Searching of the Dead
Hippee winks at Dartan
“Aye aye” Hippee sidles near Bruno and looks up to his spell slinging brethren and whispers “up to us again to bring in the heavy artillery” Hippee let’s out a laugh and slaps Bruno on the back of shin
As the party prepares for the ritual, Bruno raises a hand, suggesting a quick search of the fallen hellriders and warriors for useful items.
"Before we begin, let's see if there's anything that might aid us among the fallen, Perhaps since the fallen are Hellriders, You and Reya could take a look at the dead and see if anything of value or usefulness exists?" he suggests, looking at Trevick for approval.
Trevick nods and joins Reya in the search, her eyes scanning the area warily. After a thorough inspection, Trevick's eyes light up at the sight of a shortsword carried by one of the Hellriders.
"Look here," he exclaims, holding up the blade. "This is a lucky shortsword, blessed by the Goddess Tymora. It might prove invaluable in our upcoming endeavor."
Pherria, who was silently observing, nods in agreement.
"Indeed, the blessing of Tymora could grant us a touch of luck in this dark place," she adds.
Aside from the shortsword, they uncover some gold pieces and a peculiar soil coin among the belongings. Reya looks at the gathered items and then addresses the party,
"These findings could be of use to any of us. Speak up if you wish to claim any particular item," she says
** Treasure dropped **
Please everyone claim the Holy waters that Bruno dropped and any of the newly dropped treasure. I will only allow you to claim these items during the first round of the ritual then it will be too late.
Malgorthrax, the Soulrender.
As Bartok pours the holy water into the pool, the room suddenly becomes charged with an eerie energy. The water begins to vibrate and churn, the surface rippling with unnatural intensity. The air thickens, and darkness descends upon the crypt like a shroud.
In an instant, a terrible shriek pierces the air, echoing through the catacombs. From the swirling shadows within the pool, a monstrous figure emerges, its form looming large and imposing. The demonic entity that stands before the party is a horrifying sight to behold—a towering, muscular fiend with leathery wings unfurled behind it, and eyes that burn with malevolence. Its skin is adorned with sinister tattoos, and a wicked aura of power surrounds it.
With a cruel, mocking grin, the demon addresses the party in a voice that drips with malevolence and arrogance.
"Ah, pitiful mortals," it sneers, its voice echoing throughout the crypt. "I am Malgorthrax, the Soulrender, herald of despair and bringer of suffering. You have called upon me, and now you shall witness the true might of the abyss!"
The fiend's wings spread wide, casting an ominous shadow over the room as it prepares to unleash its terrible power upon the party.
The demonic entity's eyes gleam with sadistic pleasure as it revels in the terror it instills in the party. It seems to take great delight in taunting them, confident in its overwhelming power. The darkness in the crypt seems to deepen as the fiend's sinister presence fills the space.
Despite the overwhelming menace before them, the party stands firm. They clutch their weapons tightly, ready to face this formidable foe and bring an end to the darkness that has befallen Elturel. With their united strength, faith, and the pure weapons they wield, they remain resolute in their purpose—to protect the Duke, vanquish the evil within the pool, and elevate Torm's divine power to restore hope and light to the city.
Roll for Initiative (if you haven't already done so)
5 Minutes pass
Time: 12:56 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Combat
Malgorthrax and his prize
As Malgorthrax, the Soulrender, emerges with an aura of malevolence, Trevick's voice booms through the crypt, filled with urgency and determination. He ignites his Hellfire sword, its fiery glow casting eerie shadows across the walls.
"Listen closely, everyone!" Trevick commands, his eyes locked on the menacing fiend. "This is a Soulrender from the Abyss! Its very presence drains the life essence from any living soul nearby!"
He points at Dartan with a firm gaze. "Dartan, you must move the Duke to a safe distance!" Trevick orders, his voice unwavering. "Do not let the Duke remain close to this fiend! It seeks to consume him!"
Trevick turns back to face Malgorthrax, his Hellfire sword held high. "The rest of us must stay vigilant, Keep your distance and be ready to strike when the opportunity presents itself!"
As Malgorthrax's malevolent gaze falls upon the shield of the Hidden Lord stowed on Dartan's back, his sinister laughter fills the crypt, echoing with a chilling menace. His eyes narrow with a mix of amusement and arrogance as he recognizes the fiendish presence within the shield.
"Gargauth, the Hidden Lord, brought back to Hell as a mere trophy," Malgorthrax sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "How amusing. I shall relish in taking you, and your wielder, as my prize!"
As Lulu flutters over from tending to the frightened refugees, her eyes flash with a fiery determination. A surge of memories returns, and her gaze locks onto Malgorthrax with newfound recognition. She remembers the Abyss, the battles fought alongside Zariel, and her encounters with the malevolent fiend.
"You! Malgorthrax!" Lulu's voice carries a newfound strength, and her tiny form seems to radiate with ancient power. "I remember you from the Abyss, when I fought alongside Zariel centuries ago. You were defeated then, and today will be no different!"
Malgorthrax snarls, his arrogance momentarily replaced by a hint of uncertainty.
"You dare challenge me, little creature?" he sneers, trying to mask his surprise.
Lulu's wings flutter with confidence, and she meets his gaze unflinchingly.
"I may be small, but I carry the strength of ages and the determination of the celestial realms," she proclaims, her voice resonating with conviction. "I do not fear you, fiend. We will send you back to the Abyss!"
Time: 12:56 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Combat
Malgorthrax Round 1
Hippee steps forward bravely to back up Lulu and uses masks of many faces to protrude an elephantine snout and exclaims loudly
“Malgorthax!…”, Hippee let’s a purple energy flow through his fingers and eyes…”you don’t scare me..or The hidden lord."
Bartok's mouth drops open as the demon rises above his head.
"Baroness preserve us..." As Malgorthrax finishes his speech, Bartok takes a deep breath and huffs it back out through his thick mustache. "Well, as grandpappy Rockbottom use to say. The bigger they are... the more they like to sit on ya." Bartok readies his shield and his glowing mace, "Let's see what ya got ya oversized imp!!"
As Bruno channels his arcane power, he focuses on Malgorthrax, the Soulrender, and casts Tasha`s Mind Whip. The psychic energy lashes out, surrounding the fiend in an ethereal assault.
Fearfully,
"I really hope those cards were right..."
The fiend`s movements momentarily falter, a subtle paralysis creeping through his monstrous form. His eyes narrow with anger, realizing the impact of the spell—the loss of his reaction next turn. Despite the searing pain in his mind, he manages a defiant sneer. In addition it can only take a Move, Standard or Bonus action next turn.
Though Malgorthrax still maintains an air of arrogance, a flicker of irritation betrays his facade as the spell takes effect. The Fiend takes 15 points of Psychic damage and is affected by the full force of the spell.
Bruno exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding as he sees his spell take effect on the demon.
"Dartan! The demon's reactions are dulled but it won't last long. Get the Duke to safety before he can recover!"
"Is this the best you can do, mortal?" Malgorthrax snarls, his voice laced with fury. "Your pitiful magic barely scratches the surface of my power!"
Malgorthrax, towering over Duke Ravengard and Dartan, reveals two fiendish blades covered in ominous runes. With malevolent glee, he launches a powerful attack, his eyes filled with sadistic pleasure as he taunts and insults Dartan, seeking to claim the shield of the Hidden Lord for his own dark purposes. The fiend strikes with relentless ferocity, his first swing narrowly missing Dartan as the paladin skillfully dodges the deadly blade.
With a wicked grin, Malgorthrax follows up with a swift, devastating strike, connecting with the second blade. The demon`s fiendish weapon slices into Dartan`s side, dealing a heavy blow that leaves him reeling in pain, as he takes 24 points of damage!
"Pathetic mortal!" Malgorthrax jeers, relishing the sight of Dartan`s pain. "Your shield will be MINE! Your flesh will feed the Abyss!"
Hippee unleashes an Eldritch Blast, the magical energy crackling with power as it hurtles toward the fiend. But to the party`s dismay, the blast has no effect on the mighty Malgorthrax. The Fiends laughter fills the air, a haunting sound that echoes through the crypt, mocking the gnome`s efforts.
"Is that all you have to offer, little gnome?" Malgorthrax sneers, his voice laced with malevolence. "Your pitiful magic is no match for my power!"
As Reya takes aim with her crossbow, she targets one of the fiend`s glowing tattoos with precision. The bolt flies through the air with remarkable speed, but to the party`s dismay, it only bounces harmlessly off the fiend`s demonic skin, leaving no discernible mark. Malgorthrax, the Soulrender, chuckles with a wicked grin, seemingly amused by Reya`s futile attempt.
"Is that the best you can do, mortal?" he taunts, his voice resonating with malevolence. "Your feeble weapons have no power against me!"
Gritting her teeth, as she watches her bolt bounce off the Fiend.
"Very well fiend, we shall see if your skin can withstand my blade!"
Moved 30 feet - Reya`s jaw tightens, and she grits her teeth, refusing to be disheartened by the fiend`s mocking. She charges into the pool, with her Hellfire sword drawn.
Moved 15 feet - Arkon, from the shadows, swiftly closes in on Malgorthrax with his spear and blade at the ready.
Arkon`s eyes blaze with determination as he casts Hunter`s Mark on Malgorthrax, the Soulrender, marking the fiend as his quarry. The mystical connection between the ranger and his target is forged, and he knows that every strike he makes will be empowered by the enchantment.
Arkon takes a deep breath and moves with practiced precision. He readies his spear, its steel gleaming in the dim light of the crypt, and strikes at the fiend twice. The first blow connects, but the weapon`s mundane nature dampens its impact, causing only a minor gash on Malgorthrax`s hide, dealing 5 points plus 2 damage from Hunters Mark, plus 4 points of damage from Colossus slayer, and 3 points from Favored Enemy. Total of 14 points of damage!
The second strike lands, and though it finds its mark, it too lacks the potency needed to inflict significant harm on the formidable demon. The spear leaves a small nick on its leg, dealing 5 points of damage and 1 points from Hunter`s Mark and 3 points from Favored Enemy. Total of 9 points damage.
With a swift motion, Arkon launches his spear at the fiend, but the weapon falls short, missing its mark. Malgorthrax sneers, his malevolent laughter echoing through the crypt.
"Is that the best you can do, pitiful ranger?" he taunts, his voice resonating with wicked glee. "Your feeble attempts at hunting me are laughable!"
Undeterred, Arkon grits his teeth, refusing to let the fiend`s taunts diminish his resolve. He swiftly tosses his Short Sword of Luck +2 into his primary hand and strikes true. The blade, blessed by the goddess of luck, Tymora, pierces Malgorthrax`s leg, and a glowing scar appears where the fiend is struck. The searing pain that surges through the demon`s body brings a satisfying sense of victory to Arkon. He deals 21 points of damage from the pure weapon, plus 1 point from Hunter`s Mark, and 3 points from Favored Enemy. Total of 25 damage. Malgorthrax howls with rage, his eyes blazing with fury.
"You dare to challenge me, ranger? I will crush you like the insignificant insect you are!"
The fiend`s focus shifts entirely to Arkon, who has now drawn the mighty demon`s undivided attention.
Moved 15 feet - As quickly as he appeared, the Ranger darts back away from the towering fiend, and moves back toward the edge of the shadow-filled pool.
As Lulu flutters over to Dartan`s side, her celestial aura emanates a warm, healing light that envelops the wounded paladin. With a gentle touch, she channels her restorative power, casting Cure Wounds to mend his injuries and soothe his pain, restoring 8 points. Dartan feels a surge of rejuvenating energy coursing through him, as his wounds start to close and his strength returns.
Calmly
"You`re not alone, brave paladin," she murmurs softly, "You have the strength of Tyr flowing through you, and we`re here with you every step of the way."
Moved 30 feet - Trevick, his Hellfire blade burning with an ominous glow, moves with calculated precision towards Malgorthrax. With each step, he positions himself strategically in the pool, about ten feet away from the towering fiend.
Trevick prepares a Melee attack if Malgorthrax moves within range.
Dashed 30 feet- With the power of Tyr surging through him, Dartan acts swiftly and decisively. He heeds Trevick`s warning and, with a burst of strength, lifts the Duke over his shoulder. Without a moment`s hesitation, he dashes away from Malgorthrax, as the Fiend`s attention is locked on Arkon. Reaching a safe distance, Dartan sets the Duke down gently next to Pherria. He offers a reassuring smile to Pherria, trusting her ability to protect the Duke while he returns to the fray.
Moved 20 feet - As Dartan turns back to face Malgorthrax, his eyes are ablaze with righteous fury, he sloshes back into the pool, with Amelia`s pure Greatsword drawn.
Moved 15 feet - Bartok advances into the pool and stands next to Trevick, as he begins softly chanting a spell.
As Bartok advances into the pool, a subtle shimmer of magical energy envelops Trevick, courtesy of the Guidance spell. The power of the spell courses through the Hellrider, enhancing his already impressive precision and battle prowess. His senses become heightened, and he feels an otherworldly guidance bolstering his every move. Trevick nods gratefully, acknowledging Bartok`s support.
"Here ya go lad, take this blessing, Let the magic guide yer hand and smash that fiend ta pieces!"
"Thank you, Bartok, Your aid will make all the difference. Together, we will defeat this fiend and protect Elturel."
As Bartok turns his attention towards the fiend, he calls upon the divine power of Berrenor, focusing his energy to cast Sacred Flame. A brilliant, radiant light descends from above,
The fiend roars in annoyance as he fails to evade the divine assault, the radiant flames scorching his malevolent form, engulfing Malgorthrax in a searing blaze of holy fire, dealing 12 points of damage to the fiend. Luck was on Bartok`s side and the damage was intensified by his Deity.
As Bartok channels his divine energy, a shimmering, ethereal weapon materializes in the air beside him. The spectral form takes the shape of a powerful warhammer, brimming with holy radiance. With a swift command, Bartok directs the Spiritual Weapon towards Malgorthrax, and the glowing hammer arcs through the air with unyielding force. The Spiritual Weapon connects with the fiend, striking him with a powerful blow, but only deals 3 points of radiant damage. The radiant energy pulsates through the fiend`s dark form, briefly illuminating the crypt with its holy light. However, Malgorthrax remains seemingly unaffected by the cleric`s spectral assault. The malevolent fiend continues his relentless assault on Arkon, undeterred by Bartok`s attempt to intervene. His focus remains unyielding, his attention solely fixed on the ranger who has dared to challenge him.
As Pherria focuses her energy on the sacred prayer, her voice resonates with power and conviction. She speaks the words with a melodic cadence, her tone both solemn and determined.
Calmly
"O Mighty Torm, guardian of the just, empower us with courage and purity to banish this malevolence from your sacred realm. Let the light of righteousness prevail as we strike with pure weapons, and may your divine will be done."
Round 1 ends.
Time: 12:56 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Combat
Malgortrhax, Round 2
Bruno skirts around the pool, repositioning himself closer to the water to pour the vial of Holy water. He dumps the holy water into the pool. As he does, a crackle of energy swirls in the pool. Malgortrax begins to puff his chest up as an aura of the Abyss begins to fill the space.
He then faces the demon and casts Tasha's mind whip
The fiend`s towering form radiates a palpable aura of power, he stands tall as an eerie shadow fills the crypt, his voice dripping with malevolence.
"You dare to test my patience again? You will regret your foolish defiance, wizard. I shall take great pleasure in seeing you broken and defeated!" Bruno`s spell fails to affect the fiend, save for dealing a slight 7 points of psychic damage.
Malgorthrax`s fiendish laughter echoes throughout the crypt as he mocks Bruno`s futile attempt to overcome him with the same spell. LEGENDARY RESISTANCE: 1/3: With an arrogant flick of his claws, Malgorthrax dismisses the effects of the Tasha`s Mind Whip spell, resisting its psychic assault with ease.
"Is that the best you can muster, puny mortal?" the fiend sneers, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee. "Your feeble tricks are no match for the might of the Abyss!"
As Malgorthrax`s dark presence intensifies, an aura of malevolence emanates from the towering fiend. A chilling wave of dread sweeps through the crypt, causing the air to grow heavy with foreboding. His eyes blaze with sinister intent, and his fiendish form seems to grow even more imposing, casting an eerie shadow over the room. The party members feel an overwhelming sense of terror creeping into their hearts as the fiend`s Frightful Presence takes hold. The crypt becomes suffused with an aura of darkness, as if the very air has turned malevolent. Each member feels their resolve waver, their willpower tested by the fiend`s unholy power.
SAVE: Everyone please make a WIS save vs DC 16 or become frightened.
Angrily
"Behold the true might of the Abyss!" Malgorthrax`s voice booms, filled with sadistic delight. "You dare to challenge me, yet you tremble in fear like mere insects before a storm. Your futile resistance only adds to my enjoyment. Kneel before your doom!" Malgorthrax`s twisted laughter echoes through the room as he relishes the sight of his opponents cowering before him. "Your defiance means nothing. I am the Soulrender, the harbinger of doom. None can escape their fate in the embrace of the Abyss."
FRIGHTFUL PRESENCE SAVES:
Bartok - Failure - Bartok`s hands tremble as he clutches his holy symbol, struggling to maintain his composure. (Disadvantage on all rolls, and Bartok cannot move closer to Malgorthrax as long as he is frightened)
Bruno - Success - Bruno stands unwavering, his mind fortified against the fiend`s malevolent influence.
Dartan - Success - Dartan`s grip tightens on his Greatsword, his faith in Tyr bolstering his courage.
Reya - Failure - Reya`s eyes widen with fear, and she takes a step back, her crossbow momentarily forgotten. (Disadvantage on all checks, and cannot move closer to Malgorthrax as long as she`s frightened)
Trevick - Success - Trevick raises his hellfire blade high, in a symbolic defiance against the mighty fiend.
Lulu - Success - Lulu`s radiant form flutters with an air of confidence, her lost memories of past battles fueling her spirit.
Pherria - Success - Continues focusing on Torm, and her prayer, ignoring the menancing fiend`s presence.
Arkon - Success - Arkon`s eyes blaze with determination as he readies his weapons, knowing that his skill and cunning are their best chance against the overconfident fiend.
Hippee - Failure - Hippee, usually so full of bravado, now feels the weight of the fiend`s malevolence pressing down on him, making him feel small and vulnerable. (Disadvantage on all ability checks, and cannot move closer to the Fiend as long as he`s frightened)
Mockingly
Malgorthrax`s sneering grin widens as he revels in the defiance of the party members.
"Your futile resistance only fuels my amusement," he hisses, a sadistic edge to his voice. "But let`s see how brave you remain when faced with the flames of the Abyss!"
Fireball Saves
Reya`s eyes widen with terror as she tries to evade the blast. Reya, her agility honed through countless battles, manages to roll out of the worst of it, though she still suffers some of the flames, taking 15 points of damage!
Bartok, struggling to overcome the fear that threatened to paralyze him, is caught by the fireball, his body enveloped in searing pain, taking 30 points of damage!
Lulu & Dartan - in the face of this deadly attack, Lulu summons her anti-magic field, shielding herself and Dartan from the blast. The fiend`s malevolence is negated by the radiance of her form, and they emerge unscathed, bathed in a protective aura.
Trevick, his Hellfire sword ablaze divine power, attempts to shield himself, but the flames find their way through, singeing his flesh, dealing 15 points of damage!
Malgorthrax, his towering form casting a menacing shadow, moves with sinister grace, the fiendish runes on his blades glinting with malevolence as he closes in on Arkon. With each step, the ground trembles beneath his massive frame, the very air around him swirling with shadow. As the Fiend stands close to Arkon, the Ranger begins to feel his very life essence draining from his mortal body
Mocking
"You think you can stand against me, little ranger?" he taunts, his voice dripping with contempt. "Your courage is nothing more than foolishness. But don`t worry, I`ll make sure you feel every ounce of pain before I take your soul."
As Hippee concentrates on his incantation, a hazy, ghostly figure materializes beside Arkon and Malgorthrax. The ethereal spirit, clad in tattered robes and radiating an otherworldly aura, heeds Hippee`s command to protect the ranger. Its spectral form flickers with an eerie glow, and its eyes gleam with an ancient, otherworldly wisdom. Malgorthrax`s sinister laughter fills the air as he eyes the summoned undead with disdain.
Calmly
"Protect the ranger!"
Hippee save vs. Frightful presence
Success - As the fear begins to grip Hippee`s heart, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, centering himself in the moment. His small frame trembles for a moment, but then a determined look crosses his face. With a burst of courage, he opens his eyes wide and defiantly glares at the towering fiend, shaking off the fear that once held him captive.
Happily
"Oh, no you don`t!" Hippee exclaims with a cheeky grin, waving his tiny hand dismissively at Malgorthrax. "You may be big and scary, but I`ve faced worse, like that time I accidentally ate a spicy pepper and had to breathe fire like a dragon! Now, you`re nothing more than a pesky hornet!"
"A pitiful specter, summoned by a mere gnome?" he sneers, his voice echoing through the crypt."Do you really think this weak spirit can stand against me, the mighty Malgorthrax?"
The spectral guardian`s ethereal form reaches out with its ghostly touch, attempting to strike Malgorthrax, but the fiend effortlessly sidesteps the attack. The ghostly touch passes through thin air, causing no harm to the towering demon. Malgorthrax laughs triumphantly, reveling in the display of its own power.
As Arkon begins next to the fiend, he can feel the fiend's essence of the Abyss tugging at his very soul.
Save vs Syphon Soul
Success - Malgorthrax`s malevolent grin fades into a scowl of annoyance as he witnesses Arkon withstand his Syphon Soul ability. The fiend`s eyes narrow with a mix of surprise and frustration, clearly vexed that the ranger resisted his attempt to drain his life force.
"You dare defy me?" Malgorthrax hisses, his voice laced with rage. "Your will is stronger than I anticipated, but mark my words, it won`t be enough to save you!"
Reya - Moved 30 feet - With her heart pounding in her chest and her hands trembling, Reya feels the overwhelming grip of fear as Malgorthrax`s dreadful presence fills the air, she decides to step back to shield the Duke from any potential harm.
Fearfully
"I will fall back to the Duke"
Save vs. Frightful presence
Success - In a moment of sheer willpower, Reya`s eyes flash with determination as she battles against the fear that had gripped her. With every ounce of her being, she pushes back the icy tendrils of dread that threatened to paralyze her. The memory of her training and the strength of her convictions surge through her, allowing her to break free from the fiend`s terrifying aura.
Confident
"I will not be defeated by fear!" she declares.
Moved 20 feet - Arkon moves with the grace of a shadow, nimble and swift, as he slips between the massive legs of Malgorthrax. Like a phantom, he emerges from the darkness on the other side, now poised in a perfect flanking position behind the towering fiend. With a steady hand and unwavering focus, he readies his weapon, his eyes locked on the back of the demon, poised to strike with the advantage he gained through his deft maneuvering. Arkon hears the crackling hum of the portal right next to him, he can sense the evil on the other side, as the shadowy figures of the Abyss wait on the other side, blurred but recognizable as demons.
Attack 1: With blinding speed and precision, Arkon unleashes a flurry of strikes upon Malgorthrax, each one guided by the divine blessing of Tymora`s Luck. The blessed Shortsword dances through the air, leaving a trail of radiant scars upon the demon`s back and legs, dealing 33 damage plus 4 points for Hunters Mark, plus 3 points from Colossus slayer, and 3 points for favored enemy. Total of 43 points of damage!
Attack 2: like a constellation of shining marks etched by the hand of fate. Each strike bites deep into the fiend`s flesh, causing him to bellow in fury and agony, dealing 21 points of damage, plus 5 points for Hunters Mark, and 3 points for favored enemy. Total of 29 points of damage.
Attack 3: The pure weapon finds its mark once again, leaving a brilliant, burning scar on the fiend`s massive form, dealing 24 points plus 2 points for Hunters Mark, and 3 points for favored enemy. Total of 29 points of damage.
Attack 4: Arkon`s blade, glowing with the divine radiance of Tymora`s blessing, cleaves through the air with uncanny precision as he delivers another powerful strike to Malgorthrax, dealing 27 points of damage, plus 3 points for Hunter`s Mark, and 3 points for Favored enemy! total of 33 points of damage!
Off hand strike: The ranger plunges his off hand blade into the side of the Fiend, which is significantly less effective, but still strikes true for 5 points of damage, plus 2 points from Hunters Mark and 3 points for favored enemy. total of 10 points of damage!
As the glowing scars sear into the demon`s flesh, a low growl of pain and frustration escapes Malgorthrax`s lips. The fiend`s cocky demeanor falters for a moment, replaced by a glimmer of uncertainty.
"You are but a fleeting spark in the grand design of the Abyss," Malgorthrax continues, his voice taunting and malevolent. "In the end, you and your pitiful city shall fall, and all your futile efforts will be in vain. Embrace your fate, little ranger, and know that your defiance is merely a momentary blip in the vast tapestry of despair that awaits you."
As Arkon deftly dodges away from Malgorthrax, seeking a momentary respite, the towering fiend seizes the opportunity to strike. With a sinister grin, he lunges forward, his fiendish Runed blade turns Green momentarily ABYSSAL INFECTION 1/3: slashing through the air with terrifying speed. The blade finds its mark, cutting deep into the ranger`s side, causing him to wince in pain, dealing 20 points of damage, and causing a festering wound that begins to boil and sizzle. (Make a CON save, DC 16)
Save vs. Abyssal Infection
Success - Arkon`s eyes widen with resolve as he feels the malevolent energy of the Abyss trying to take root within him. The fiendish infection spreads like dark tendrils from the wound, attempting to corrupt his very being. But the ranger`s unwavering determination and fortitude allow him to push back against the insidious force.
"You defy me at every turn," he growls, the glowing scars on his body pulsating with malevolent energy. "Your defiance is futile, mortal. You cannot escape your fate. Your soul will be mine!"
As Lulu flutters over to Bartok, her radiant presence envelops the dwarf in a warm, healing embrace. Her celestial energy washes over him, mending his wounds and soothing his pain. He recovers 8 points of life.
Calmly,
"There, there, my brave friend,"
Trevick advances toward Malgorthrax with his blade drawn,
Trevick`s strike misses its mark, his greatsword passing harmlessly through the space where Malgorthrax`s form once stood. The demon, still seething from the flurry of attacks by the ranger, seems to pay little heed to the Hellrider`s attempt. Even with his guidance boon from Bartok, it is not enough to hit the demon. (Roll 10 + 7 + 3 for guidance = 20)
Excited
"Hold on, you ugly brute!" Trevick shouts defiantly. "You think you`re the big bad in this realm? Well, you`re about to meet the wrath of the Hellriders!"
Moved 20 feet - Dartan, encased in heavy armor, trudges forward with determination through the murky waters of the pool. Each step is a battle against the weight of his gear, the once swift and agile paladin now slowed by the burden.
Dartan Tries to cast Hunter`s Mark on Malgorthrax, however as he does - an ominous laugh echoes through the chamber as the Demon, Gargauth inside the shield of the Hidden Lord laughs audibly.
"You think Tyr will grant you any power, Paladin? I can give you strength now, renounce your god once and for all and together we will destroy this Fiend together!"HUNTERS MARK FAILS.
"I am a paladin of Tyr, the Everlasting Law. I walk in the light of justice and honor, and I will not be swayed by your deceitful words, Gargauth. My faith lies in my God, and I draw strength from the conviction of my beliefs."
Moved 15 feet - Bartok`s heart pounds in his chest as he tries to muster the courage to face the fiend. His hands tremble slightly as he clutches his holy symbol, seeking solace in the divine protection of his deity. With a deep breath, he forces himself to take a step forward, though fear still lingers in his eyes. He knows that he must find a better position to cast his spells.
Bartok focuses his divine energy once more, calling upon the power of his deity to conjure the radiant flames of Sacred Flame. As the ethereal fire descends upon the towering fiend, Malgorthrax flinches slightly but fails to dodge the searing light. The demon`s anger intensifies as the flames dance around him, but he scoffs at the cleric`s efforts, showing disdain for the minimal damage inflicted, taking 4 points of damage!
Anxiously
"Come on baby light my fire!"
"Your pitiful flames are nothing, mortal! Your futile attempts to harm me amuse me. You shall all kneel before my might!"
As Bartok`s prayer reaches a crescendo, a radiant light bursts forth from his holy symbol, filling the room with a warm and comforting glow. The light takes on the shimmering hues of gold and silver, intertwining in a beautiful dance of divine power. It bathes his companions in its brilliance, enveloping them in a soothing embrace. As the healing energy flows through Bartok, he can feel the presence of Berrenor, his deity, surrounding him with love and protection, restoring 10 points plus 25 points from feedback, restoring him to full life.
The room is filled with a sense of hope and renewed determination as Bartok`s healing power touches each member of the party, Arkon is restored 8 points, Reya is restored 10 points, Trevick is restored 9 points, Dartan is restored 8 points
Bartok save vs Frightful presence
Success - With a deep breath and a firm resolve, Bartok faces the fiend`s malevolent gaze head-on. His heart pounds within his chest, but he draws strength from his unwavering faith in Berrenor. As the demon`s intimidating presence tries to grip his mind with fear, Bartok pushes back with sheer determination, breaking free from its hold. His hands stop trembling, and his eyes burn with newfound courage, ready to face the monstrous adversary before him.
The ethereal form of Bartok`s spiritual hammer streaks through the air with divine determination, but it swerves off course at the last moment, narrowly missing its intended target.
Pherria Continues her prayer, sweating as she prays fervently.
"Great Torm, we beseech thee, grant us the strength to drive back this malevolence, to cleanse the tainted waters, and to restore your holy sanctum. Empower us with your righteous might, that we may stand resolute against the darkness and bring forth the light of your divine grace. In your name, we call upon your protection and guidance, that evil shall falter before your eternal glory."
Time: 12:56 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Combat
Malgorthrax, Round 3
Bruno takes out a vial of holy water and pours it into the pool. As the liquid touches the dark waters, an intense cracking energy emits from the pool, causing the shadows to writhe and twist.
He then casts Tashas Mind Whip at Malgorthrax, the Soulrender
As Bruno`s Tasha`s Mind Whip strikes Malgorthrax, the fiend winces slightly, as if he has been hit by a sudden headache. The psychic energy appears to have caused some discomfort, he takes 10 points of damage!
a surge of psychic energy extends toward Malgorthrax like an ethereal lash. However, the fiend`s formidable willpower proves too much for the spell, and he fiercely shakes off the effect, glaring back at the wizard with burning eyes.
Mockingly
"Bask in the abyssal might that courses through me!" Malgorthrax`s voice booms "You dare to challenge a being like me, who wields the power of the nether realms?
Malgorthrax sneers with malevolent glee as his runed blades morph into shadowy manifestations, emanating a dark energy that seems to devour the surrounding light. His eerie laughter echoes through the chamber, four black orbs emerge from his Runed Blades, and begin to circle the fiend.
The wizard`s face contorts in anguish as the shadowy tendrils pierce his body. He clutches at his head, trying to resist the overwhelming pain. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his body trembles as his life force is drained away. Despite his strength of will, he staggers backward, the intensity of the draining agony taking its toll.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 35 points of life from Bruno.
As the shadowy tendrils reach out to ensnare Hippee, he draws upon his inner strength and fortitude. With a deep breath, the gnome closes his eyes, focusing on the bond he shares with the mysterious powers of Aglarond. He can feel his Patron giving him a surge of resistance, his training as a Warlock, giving him an edge against this necrotic attack from the nether world.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 6 points of life from Hippee.
With fierce determination, Arkon channels his willpower, resisting the malevolent pull of Malgorthrax`s Abyssal Soul Drain. As the dark tendrils reach out to ensnare him, the ranger`s eyes blaze with defiance, and his grip on his blessed Shortsword of Luck tightens.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 12 points of life from Arkon.
Reya gasps as the shadows close in around her. Her armor feels heavier as her energy is drained away, and her knees buckle beneath her. She drops to one knee, clutching her chest, her breath coming in labored gasps as she fights against the darkness threatening to consume her.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 60 points of life from Reya.
The little hollyphant`s wings flutter with defiance as the shadows attempt to envelop her. Her tiny form shudders for a moment, but she manages to resist the full force of the fiend`s draining power. Her eyes blaze with determination as she hovers in place, only slightly affected by the malevolent energy that surrounds her.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 18 points of life from Lulu.
The hellrider grits his teeth, trying to withstand the fiend`s assault on his soul. His body tenses as the dark energy engulfs him, causing his muscles to spasm uncontrollably. His eyes narrow in determination, but the pain etched across his face betrays his struggle to endure the malevolent attack.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 69 points of life from Trevick.
The paladin`s expression turns grim as the fiend`s power overcomes him. The dark tendrils penetrate his body, causing him to stagger backward. His muscles spasm, and he grips his shield tightly, trying to stay on his feet. Despite his best efforts, he is forced to one knee, his resolve tested as the malevolent force drains his vitality.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 38 points of life from Dartan.
As the dark tendrils lash out towards Bartok, the dwarf cleric feels an overwhelming surge of pain and dread. His body convulses, and his eyes widen in horror as the fiendish power drains the life from him. The light in his eyes dim momentarily, and he stumbles backward, struggling to maintain his balance as the malevolent force takes its toll on his weakened form.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 38 points of life from Bartok.
The Duke`s eyes widen in shock as the dark tendrils ensnare him. His hands clutch at his chest, gasping for breath as a wave of excruciating pain washes over him. His knees buckle, and he falls to the ground, his body wracked with convulsions as he fights to hold onto his fading life.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 90 points of life from the Duke.
The old haggard woman`s body tenses as the dark tendrils reach out to drain her life force. She clenches her teeth, refusing to succumb to the fiend`s power. Though she winces in pain, she stands her ground, her devotion to Torm bolstering her resistance against the malevolent force. Despite feeling weakened, she continues her prayer, unwavering in her resolve.
Abyssal soul drain, sucks 13 points of life from Pherria.
He raises his runed blades, the dark energy crackling around him as he basks in the stolen vitality. The wounds inflicted on him by the party begin to close, and he seems to regain some of his former strength, recovering 45 points of life.
Mockingly
"You struggle in vain," he taunts, "my power is boundless, and you are nothing but fleeting moments in the grand tapestry of the Abyss. Your defiance amuses me, but it changes nothing. I am the harbinger of doom, and your fate is sealed!"
Hippee fires his eldritch blast in response to the Fiends massive Soul Drain, but the blast crackles off course, striking the wall behind the fiend.
Disgusted
Hippee transforms himself in to a diminutive version of his patron Graz’zt
“You may feed, but you will still starve!”
Moved 20 feet - Still acting on it`s orders to Protect the Ranger, the Ghostly Undead positions itself between Malgorthrax and Arkon.
"Listen up, everyone!" Arkon calls out, his voice strong despite the pain he endured. "Those black orbs are shielding the fiend! We need to break through and give him a taste of true justice. Focus your attacks on the orbs, weaken them, and I`ll take care of the rest!"
Moved 30 feet - Reya`s heart races with determination as she moves closer to the fiend, her crossbow steady in her grip.
impact sends ripples of darkness through the orb, causing it to shudder and crack.
"Here goes nothing!" she mutters under her breath
The crossbow bolt streaks through the air, finding its mark with precision. The impact sends ripples of darkness through the orb, causing it to shudder and crack, dealing 9 points of damage
"Your fiendish wards will not save you, Malgorthrax!" Lulu exclaims, her little form filled with triumph.
She uses Trumpet of Blasting at one of the Fiendish wards, and Malgorthrax, The ear-piercing sound wave collides with the orb, causing it to shatter into pieces, dealing 17 points of damage,
Malgorthrax grimaces but remains relatively unscathed, taking 10 points of damage.
"Enough!" roars Malgorthrax, his voice laced with anger. "You dare to challenge me? You insignificant creature!"
With deft footwork, Trevick moves nimbly around the towering demon, seeking an opening to strike at the Fiendish Ward orbs that protect Malgorthrax. He swings his hellfire sword with precision, aiming to shatter the orb`s defense, but the fiendish ward proves elusive, dodging his attack effortlessly.
Trevick grunts in frustration, his second strike also falling short as the orb seems to mock his efforts.
"You slippery devil! Hold still, will ya?"
Moved 20 feet - Despite the weight of his armor and gear, Dartan slogs through the murky waters to stand beside Trevick. With Amelia`s blessed greatsword in hand, he readies himself to attack the remaining Fiendish Ward orb.
Dartan`s first strike narrowly misses the elusive orb
"For Tyr!! Justice shall prevail!"
Undeterred, he channels his frustration into his next swing. With a roar, he puts every ounce of his strength into the strike, and the blessed greatsword connects with the Fiendish Ward orb, shattering it into countless pieces, dealing 17 points of damage!
"By the grace of Tyr, one less obstacle in our path!" Dartan exclaims
As Bartok invokes the power of Berrenor, a glowing symbol of his deity appears momentarily above Reya, imbuing her with divine guidance.
Calmly
"Let yer Aim be true lass."
As Bartok fervently calls upon the blessings of Berrenor, a radiant aura surrounds him, intensifying the healing magic he channels. The healing energy washes over the wounded adventurers, mending their injuries and revitalizing their spirits. A warm golden light suffuses the chamber, as if the very presence of Berrenor himself has graced their presence. He recovers 30 hit points.
The healing energy restores 11 points to Bruno.
The healing energy restores 11 points to Reya.
The healing energy restores 11 points to Trevick.
The healing energy restores 11 points to Dartan.
The healing energy restores 11 points to Hippee.
The healing energy restores 11 points to Lulu.
Moved 10 feet - Arkon, seizing the opportunity as the last orb shatters, darts swiftly to position himself behind the towering fiend. His blades gleam with purpose as he readies to strike with advantage.
With a burst of divine favor from Tymora, Arkon`s blessed pure blade of luck sings through the air as he strikes true with precision and power. The first attack lands with a fierce and critical strike, driving the blade deep into the fiend`s flesh, creating a glowing scar in its wake, dealing 63 points of damage! Plus 5 points for colossus slayer, 2 points for hunters mark, and 3 points for favored enemy, totaling 73 damage
The following three strikes come in rapid succession, finding their marks with unerring accuracy, each hit causing the demon to stagger and roar in pain. He takes 30 points plus 3 points for Hunters Mark and 3 points for Favored Enemy. Total of 36 damage
Takes 24 points plus 1 point for Hunters mark, and 3 points for Favored enemy, total of 28 damage!
With lady luck on his side, the blade cuts deeper into his tendons, causing the hulking demon to fall down on one knee, taking 36 points plus 4 points for hunters mark, plus 3 points for Favored enemy. Total of 43 damage!
Arkon`s offhand strike, while less powerful, still manages to deal 5 points plus 2 points for Hunters Mark, and 3 points for favored enemy. Total of 10 damage
Malgorthrax roars in agony and fury, the arrogance that once filled his voice now replaced by pain and disbelief as he realizes he underestimated the resolve and strength of his mortal adversaries.
With a ferocious growl, Malgorthrax seizes the opportunity to strike as Arkon tries to disengage. The fiend`s runed blades gleam with dark energy as he swings them down with brutal force. The blades cut deep, dealing 23 points of damage. Make a CON save, vs DC 16.
"You... you insolent mortal!" Malgorthrax roars, "How dare you challenge me! You`re nothing but a pathetic speck of dust in the grand scheme of the Abyss!"
As the dark energy from Malgorthrax`s blade tries to seep into Arkon`s body, the ranger`s willpower and determination prove formidable. With a fierce grimace, Arkon pushes back against the Abyssal infection
Arkon smirks, his voice steady despite the pain from his wounds.
"You think your tricks can break me, demon? You underestimate the strength of my will and the power of the light that guides me. I`ll show you that not all mortals are so easily swayed by your darkness. Prepare yourself, I am sending you back to the abyss."
Pherria continues her prayer to Torm, her voice resonating with deep conviction
Time: 12:56 PM
Date: Firstday , 11 , Mitrul
Location: Avernus (Elturel)
Gamephase: Combat