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Lorderl

The Dead of Knight

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Kurith feels almost conspired against by fate. Had it been any other foe than a walking skeleton, it would not have survived that attack and then counter-attacked with such audacity. Any other foe than a walking skeleton with no will of its own would either be dead or at least have the sense to save its own skin..or bones. Kurith wishes it had been the half-elven woman rather than the skeleton to cross paths with her. But no! Instead of sinking her axe into the torso of that frail-looking waif of a pointy-eared half-breed git of a mage, she is bashing away at this rattling pile of brainless bones. Kurith grits her teeth. The old familiar taste of copper fills her mouth. Dreams and magic relics no longer matter to Kurith. She only wants to inflict as much pain and death as she can for as long as she can.

 

No longer feeling the acuteness of the pain in her shoulder, she takes another mighty swing at the nuissance in front of her. Again, she hears the sound of splintering bones. She only wishes skeletons could scream.

 

____

 

{OOC}

axe.gif

{/OOC}

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The skeleton ceases its animated jerking and dodging and falls to the ground in a heap of shattered bones and twisted armour. Now that it is out of the way, Kurith rushes toward the half-elf to deal with her before she can summon anything else.

 

___

 

{OOC}

Map updated

{/OOC}

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Kurith…

As you rush and draw closer to Hyrekia, you feel a malevolent horrific aura wash over you.

 

Kurith Will DC20

you are Shaken. A shaken character takes a –2 penalty on attack rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks.

Read upon Failed Save or Spoiler

 

 

Hyrekia begins casting a spell, she seem quite prepared for Kurith, almost as if she expected the half-orc to assault her directly. Though Kurith eagerly looks for an opening to get an attack on the half-elf to ruin her spell, Hyrekia being the accomplished spellcaster that she is, easily manages to cast her spell while within Kurith’s reach.

 

She points a clawed finger at Kurith and a black ray projects forth striking the half-orc squarely on the chest.

 

if already shaken as per the previous Will save, add 2 to the DC’s listed below

Kurith Fort DC20 against Spell

you are Exhausted. An exhausted character takes a –6 penalty to strength and dexterity. A successful Fortitude save means your only fatigued A fatigued character takes a –2 penalty to strength and dexterity

Read regardless of result or Spoiler

 

Kurith Will DC20

you are Shaken, if already Shaken you become Frightened. Frightened characters are shaken and flee from the source of their fear as quickly as they can. They can choose the path of their flight A shaken character takes a –2 penalty on attack rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks.

Read upon Failed Save or Spoiler

 

 

After Hyrekia cast her spell and while Kurith is distracted by the spells effect, she reaches out an tries to rake Kurith across the face with her claws. After which, she takes a 5ft step backwards if Kurith hasn’t taken to fleeing.

 

 

“Tell me where the Bow of Etheglias rest and I shall spare your pitiful life. As pathetic of an existence that it is, you have those liches to thank for meddling with things they don’t fully comprehend. Deny me and suffer the same fate as these others. Better yet, after I’ve taken your life, I’ll turn you into a true undead under my servitude! Yes! Yes! That’s what I’ll do!. You’ll take the place of my guard that you destroyed!”

 

 

Undead Knight…

“Staff pieze very nearz now, Maaagic, Ver', ver' bowerful ahead" says the shunken head, in an astoundingly deep voice.

 

“Those two seem pretty occupied at the moment if you ask me, do you think its wise to interfere?” the weasel states

 

“I didn’t ask. So shut up already!” the undead knight replies as it rushes forward toward you both.

 

 

back to Kurith…

“One of the liches servants approaches I see” Hyrekia states with a wiry grin as she notices the undead knight advancing.

 

Following Hyrekia's gaze, Kurith glances over in the same direction and sees what looks like an Undead Knight. Besides what was already mentioned, Its also wearing full plate armor, a cloak and a feathered helm. Everything on the knight looks old, worn and dirty as if its been buried for a millennium and just recently unearthed.

 

Once again Kurith’s mind is filled with an event from her previous nights tormented rest and Dreamscape II fills her thoughts. (thread page 19 i believe)

 

 

Hyrekia’s claw attack roll is borderline, so the result of that attack will depend on whether Kurith succeeds on her Fort saves against Hyrekia’s spell. If she failed the save then the claw attack hits

 

Hyrekia’s Spell Touch attack = AC19

Hyrekia’s Claw attack & damage = AC12; 6hp's

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Kurith rushes straight to the half-elf, unimpressed by the woman's evil visage and the ominous presence whish she seems to be trying to project. As the enraged barbarian closes in, the half-elf intones another spell. A ray of unlight leaps forth from her finger and strikes Kurith in the chest, but Kurith feels no immediate effects from the spell. Nevertheless, Kurith takes a quick look down half-expecting to see worms or maggots emerging from where the spell struck her. Still, the fact that the spell might not necessarily manifest itself right away unnerves Kurith. While Kurith is distracted, the half-elf tries to scratch her claws across Kurith's face. The claw attack does not connect though, and the mage takes a short retreating step backwards as though she knows and fears what is on Kurith's mind.

 

?Tell me where the Bow of Etheglias rest and I shall spare your pitiful life. As pathetic of an existence that it is, you have those liches to thank for meddling with things they don?t fully comprehend. Deny me and suffer the same fate as these others. Better yet, after I?ve taken your life, I?ll turn you into a true undead under my servitude! Yes! Yes! That?s what I?ll do!. You?ll take the place of my guard that you destroyed!?

 

Kurith pays no heed to the mage's threats. "DIE, SALASULUK!", she snarls, and then advances again toward the woman.

 

From the corner of her eye, Kurith sees another person in the distance, but in her state of mind she is only concerned with killing the one in front of her. The newcomer will have to wait his turn.

 

Kurith swings at the half-elf....

 

____

 

{OOC}

salasuluk = 'wrong-blooded', mean name reserved for halfbreed elves

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Kurith...

Hyrekia screams as Kurith attack opens a nasty gash across her arm. Kurith also notices that her opponent is sturdier than she expected, its as if her axe had bitten into something denser than mere flesh.

 

“You’ll pay dearly for that!” Hyrekia sneers

 

Again, Hyrekia calls upon her dark magics, “Ater’ Libo’” and she reaches out and touches Kurith’s arm. Then, before Kurith can draw herself away, Hyrekia digs her clawed fingernails into the half-orc’s burly forearm.

 

 

Shaken penalty is already factored into the below save.

Kurith Fort DC19 vs Spell effect

You are “Paralyzed” for 1d6+2 rounds: Ghoul’s Touch Spell

Read upon Failed save or Spoiler

 

 

Again, Hyrekia takes another 5ft step backwards. Seeing that the undead knight has drawn closer, she looks over to it and calls out

 

“Kill her!... Kill her and I will help you to find one of the staff pieces your master seeks!”

 

Drawing her attention once again to the half-orc, Hyrekia looks into those pale green eyes of Kurith’s and says “I’ll draw the secrets you possess from your corpse!”

 

 

Undead Knight…

“what do you think of that offer huh? If your luck holds out like this you’ll have all the staff pieces in no time.” the weasel says.

 

”I said be quiet. I need to think and your infernal yapping doesn’t help.” the undead knight replies

 

The undead knight’s eyes fixate upon Kurith as it hears Hyrekia’s words. It charges forward with its bastard sword drawn high and its mouth gapes open as if shouting a battle cry. All the while Hyrekia smiles wickedly at Kurith as the undead knight responds to her influence.

 

When the undead knight is in striking range, its black blade comes down in a powerful arc, cutting deeply into its target.

 

“AAAAAHH” the shrill scream of Hyrekia’s voice cuts through the air as she is left with a bloody wound across her chest.

 

 

The "Shaken" effect that Kurith was under has ended.

 

 

Coordinates:

Kurith – M21

Hyrekia – K21

Undead Knight – L22 (came from the right side of the map)

 

 

Hyrekia’s Spell Melee Touch attack =

Hyrekia’s Claw attack =

Undead Knight’s attack =

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Kurith is surprised that her attack did not do more damage than it did, and is about to wind back for another swing when the woman attacks with her claws. It takes just a second for Kurith to feel the effects, at which point she knows she has taken on more than she should have.

 

Beyond that, there is nothing she can do aside from watch.

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Kurith…

All the world had frozen for Hyrekia in those few moments as she contemplated her next action. This assault from this undead knight was quite unexpected and put an entirely new spin on matters. Saying that the situation turned problematic was an understatement.

 

She had used her more potent spells for scrying the approximate location of the Bow of Etheglias, and of learning the liches plans and what to expect before entering the City of Splendors. She could see her prize in the half-orc’s eyes and had expected to be triumphant once the half breed was paralyzed.

 

Hyrekia knew full well that her remaining spells would prove ineffective against this undead servant of the liches, at most all she could accomplish is endure one, perhaps two more attacks if she were lucky. Gauging the severity of the undead knight previous attack, facing it directly would prove futile. Best to retreat and inform her master of her failure.

 

“You and the liches will suffer greatly for this treachery!” Hyrekia screams at the undead knight

 

“Traicio!” she calls out, and in an instant she vanishes from sight, leaving a spiral buff of smoke in her wake.

 

 

Undead knight…

“that went well, don’t you think?” the weasel asked its rhetorical question even as the undead knight kept its guard up a few moments longer just incase the half-elf was still about.

 

“what do you make of this ugly thing?” the weasel asked as the undead knight moved to stand face to face with the paralyzed half-orc.

 

“I don’t know. Her life aura has been masked somehow. Luckily too, else she have every undead in the city trying to kill her once they spotted her. I wonder how she came to be this way and what she’s doing here?” the undead knight thought to himself

 

”I doubt she looked much better before whatever happened to her.” the weasel retorted

 

The undead knight then begins checking Kurith for any items which might be a piece of the Staff of Waterdeep in its original form.

 

”copping a feel I see. I know its been awhile but perhaps you should take her out to dinner first.” the weasel states

 

”Well, what are you waiting for, use the Cerebricule!” the weasel chimes in again

 

"Yeah right. What was I thinking.” the undead knight replies

 

Drawing the shrunken head forward the knight say "what can you tell me of this weapon?"

 

“Ver, bowerful, haz essence of dragzon inzides" says the shunken head. ”and the staff piece?” the knight inquires

 

The Cerebricule begins sniffing the air then says “inzide bag.”

 

Moving to the bag, the knight grabs it and begins dumping its contents onto the ground. When the gold rod hits the ground Kurith feels the vigor of life return once more to her limbs.

 

Kurith now stands across the knight with the bags contents resting upon the ground between them.

 

”she doesn’t look none to happy, you’ve done it this time!” the weasel says

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The paralyzed half-orc's rage, no longer having a physical outlet, could only manifest itself in her thoughts. She perceived her axe splitting the half-elf from crown to crotch and the half-elf's entrails spilling out onto the paving stones as a pile of writing snakes and maggots. Immediately the bloody heap began pulling itself back together and resuming the form of Kuriht's would-be destroyer. Kurith then perceived taking a second swing at the bloody humanoid mass but her axe passed through it as though it were butter, She struck the pavement hard, causing a fissure to open in the streett beneath.the bloody creature's legs. Sparks flew and seemed to ignite all that was around her including the creature before her, her own clothes and the tattered clothes of the newly-arrived undead knight. The knight appeared to lunge forward with its black blade and dove at the wriggling bloody mess that was slipping into the crack opening in front of Kurith. Kurith perceived bringing her axe down one more time upon both as they slipped down further into the fissure. The widening hole erupted with blood and the air filled with the sound of a roaring cyclone. Kurith perceived the buildings all along the high street dissolving in a shower of blood-red burning rain. She perceived that He Who Watches was watching, and that He approved. In the final moments of her hallucinatory raging, Kurith fealt herself diving headfirst into the hole to pursue her prey to the depths of hell if that was what must be done.

 

Then, as though waking from a walking dream, the fissure, the burning rain and roaring hot wind give way to cool midmorning air and the sense of firm pavement beneath Kurith's feet. For a brief moment the half-elf is standing there with a gaping wound in her chest and in the next moment she is gone. Kurith finds herself facing an undead knight with a shrunken head and the skeletal remains of what once was likely a little furry woodland creature of some sort or other hanging about.

 

"WHADDYA DO WITH'ER!", Kurith shouts as she realizes that somebody has emptied the contents of her sack onto the ground in front of her. Without waiting for an answer, Kurith steps forward as though to prevent the knight from getting at the magical items, but her fatigue and a bit of residual dizziness make her step awkward and she almost stumbles.

 

"WHERE SHE GONE, DAMMIT!"

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Undead Knight...

The knight instinctively motions as if he were going to catch Kurith as she stumbled, then quickly stops as you regain your footing.

 

”Look, she fallen for you. I’ve always known you were a ladies man.” the weasel quibbles

 

The knight takes half a step back as if not quite sure what to make of Kurith. Thus far the only living people it has seen are those under the Effluvium effects. While Kurith did have an odd faint life aura which might indicate that she was still alive, her appearance was more undead than living.

 

“Now what bright eyes?” the weasel interjected

 

”Perhaps the enemy, of my enemy, can be convinced to be my ally if we have a common cause to fight for?” the knight replied

 

The undead knight just stands looking at Kurith. The knight easily stood over 6ft in height, the shadow of its large frame would place it in the range of 225lbs. Its only response to Kurith’s questions were it raised shoulders as it tilted its head slightly sideways. The only thing the knight knew since it learned of the lich Abraxa plans was that it needed to find the means to destroy the liches and in the process save Waterdeep.

 

”Look! There! A piece of the Staff of Waterdeep!” the weasel exclaimed

 

”I see it. How do you figure I go about getting it from her. She seem awfully protective of her stuff.” the knight says

 

”Why ask me. You’re the one who was getting all touchy feely with her. Maybe you two have something going on now. You know lovers often times share things, so maybe she’ll just hand it over to you.” the weasel states, enjoying itself at the knight’s expense

 

“Couldn’t hurt I guess” the knight replies having no other ideas of its own as it puts the weasel’s ridiculous suggestion into motion

 

”you are suicidal!” the weasel intones as the knight extends its arm and motions toward the gold rod piece on the ground.

 

 

Mist of Ravenloft…

In the hundreds of years the liches had schemed, they accumulated and worked their magic in trying to manipulated the Mist of Ravenloft to serve their own desires to bring their plans to completion But the liches erred, for the Mist of Ravenloft has no true master. Be it through the gods or whatever unknown forces that shape the infinite number of planes, the Mist of Ravenloft also worked its own power to alter slightly the effect the liches had intended when the appointed hour arose and it was pulled into the City of Splendors. My theory is that this event is the initial catalyst that leads into “The Times of Trouble”

 

So it was this minor change that gave hope to the city. Thus the Mist of Ravenloft or the Effluvium as it is known to the liches, believing that it was of their own creation, opened the door from which the cities heroes could awaken. What they did with this one opportunity was of there own choosing and fate.

 

Another such minor manipulation was that through her dreams, Kurith had somehow connected with this undead knight’s mind and had seen in her own mind the knights recent experiences as if they had been her own.

 

Now that Kurith stood but a few feet from the knight, a few details which had eluded her when she first recalled the knights experience filled the remaining gaps of the dreamscape.

 

 

Portion of Dreamscape II: additions are in Bold

Magical energies deposit you on a bed of soft grass, you reach up with your free hand. Gloved fingers scrape dust from your dry eyeballs. You look up to see a cloudy sky, a leafless oak, and a lich!

 

You shy back in horror. A lich, a skeletal wizard sustained by necromantic sorcery, most evil and powerful of the undead!

 

”I have no sword, no weapon at all. How will I destroy such a monster?”

 

While you lie frozen in fear, the lich gestures with its desiccated arms. Magical words echo in your mind as though you hear the mage chant them. Its robes, once luxurious but now threadbare and rotting, hang like old curtains. Except for some rattling, the rustle of the robes with every gesture is the only real sound the lich makes.

 

You locate the sound. It comes from a small carved box strapped to the lich's bony upper arm. Inwardly you shiver to see the phylactery, the telltale sign of the lich's pact with dark forces. That simple box, holding a few strips of parchment marked with runes, sustains the wizard's unlife.

 

”Should I try to tear it away?”

 

"Don't be a fool," says the weasel. "See what's going on first."

 

The undead wizard completes its spell, then speaks in your mind.

 

"Your will is mine," it begins. "Do as I tell you."

 

The lich seems oblivious to the weasel skull's speech. Just as you thought, the weasel must be your own mind talking to itself, inaudible to all others. But the lich also seems unaware that you are not under its power. Though you are undead, you have not fallen into undeath's evil grasp. You still long to fight the lich. You could, even now, launch an attack on it. But such a foolhardy lunge, without weapons, would mean your instant destruction.

 

"Better to let the mage think it controls you," whispers the weasel. "Maybe it'll say something you can use to kill it." the weasel adds, though the lich hears none of this.

 

"You are in the cemetery of the city of Waterdeep," it says, "the graveyard called the City of the Dead. It is winter solstice in the Year of the Prince."

 

“How long have I lain below?” you think, but you remember nothing.

 

"I am called Abraxa," the lich continues. "I have raised you to serve me. Not long ago I attempted to secure a magical weapon known as the Staff of Waterdeep. In touching it, I triggered its defensive enchantment. It broke apart into its twelve components, and those pieces flew across the city, returning to the points of their construction. They have reverted to their original forms, and I cannot locate them.”

 

"Along with some others, I am engaged in constructing, shall we say, an artifact beneath the city." You hear a sardonic note in the way the lich says the word "artifact."

 

”Why does this simple word sound so foreboding?’

 

"While so occupied, I appoint you to search the city and find as many pieces of the staff as you can."

 

Questions fill your mind, but as in the grave, you cannot speak them through your dirt-clogged throat. You try thinking your words.

 

"What artifact? And why choose me? Why-"

 

"Silence," says the lich, cutting off your thoughts. "Attend to what I choose to tell, and no more. My collaborator, Haurrant, also seeks the staff, but like me is unable to leave the artifact. "His undead agents seek the pieces, as will you. Unfortunately, Haurrant has more power to spare than I, so his agents outstrip you in strength and numbers. I do not trust Haurrant, and you must not trust his agents. Yet if chance offers, acquire those pieces of the staff that they have found.”

 

"I believe Haurrant has already secured some of the pieces, so you cannot gain them all. But the more you find, the better you serve me."

 

Bewilderment exceeds hatred in your mind. You feel compelled to ask, "But how can these undead wander the streets of the living?"

 

The lich sounds amused. "Look around you."

 

You look. Bare trees and shrubs, marble crypts, wide walkways of mortared brick, you find you recognize the City of the Dead.

 

"But what is that gas?"

 

Clouds of vapor curl as though alive, even permeating the walls of crypts.

 

"The Effluvium," says Abraxa the lich. "A magical gas that now sweeps over the city, sending all who live into nightmarish sleep. While they slumber, our legions ransack their homes for every magical possession. These items power our construct, far below."

 

"But-" you begin to say hesitantly since you have never heard of such magic, and your mind reels. "But if you can do this, what more could you desire? What can your artifact give you that this powerful sorcery cannot?"

 

"Life! Life, and death! The unliving for a thousand miles around, perhaps ten thousand, approach Waterdeep to join us. To offer the ultimate reward and the utmost revenge upon the living. In one stroke, we gain true life and, in the same moment, we destroy this city! "

 

For the first time, the lich's words ring with passion. Awestruck, you realize that this monster is quite insane. And yet you believe, without question, that it speaks the truth.

 

The lich continues, "But the Staff of Waterdeep holds the power to destroy our plan. Serve me well, bring me the pieces of the staff, and you, too, may return to life. Have you a fonder wish?"

 

As if in reply, your chest burns more strongly with the need to draw a breath, your eyes scrape within their sockets, you feel the crunch of graveyard dirt in your mouth. Yes, life, sensation, the pulse of blood through your veins, the tastes of apples and cinnamon and ginger, the scents of fog and roses! Life above all, or if not life, then final rest from the longing for it.

 

But you cannot take part in the lich's plan, whatever the reward. To you, a paladin, turning to evil, is a worse and more final torment than undeath. You must fight this monster, however you may, if not with a sword, then with teeth and fingernails.

 

You gather yourself to leap, but the weasel says, "Wrong, wrong, wrong! This thing is sending you to find the very article that wrecks its whole scheme. Play along. What are you, suicidal?" the weasel said excitedly

 

"I will search for the staff," you tell the lich. "I have nothing to help me find its pieces, and no weapon with which to fight for them. But I swear to pursue my mission to its end, or die the final death in the attempt."

 

Watching that hideous skeletal form, those unnatural trembling movements, Abraxa pulls several strange objects from its robes.

 

"These will aid your search," the lich says in your mind. The monster rests a heavy broadsword point first in the dirt by your grave, while its other hand holds up a shrunken head.

 

"This cerebricule will locate and analyze magical energies," says the lich, indicating the shrunken head. "It is most valuable. If you endanger it, you will suffer my wrath! "

 

You reluctantly take the cerebricule by its wisp of hair. "Is it alive?" you ask, examining its wrinkled, dried-apple skin.

 

"Not enough to matter." The lich continues. "This sword is magical, and will strike down any undead creature, except myself," it adds, while handing you the sword.

 

Though the lich believes you to be in its control, it clearly overlooks no precaution. You consider testing the accuracy of its statement. But it would be foolish to attack and give up your only advantage, the lich's ignorance of your true nature. Far better to let the monster live, for now, and make it help you defeat its plan.

 

"Search for the pieces of the staff around and outside the city," it says, then continues. "It is now midnight. You have until next midnight, when you may join us at the underground artifact and see how our plan commences. There I will give you a further assignment, but for now you need not know what.”…. the rest is the same from here on

 

 

Kurith…

The knight stands with its arm outstretched before him pointing directly at the gold staff piece. Clearly it has an interest in it.

 

From the dreamscape, as Kurith was going through the knights experiences, she also became aware of the weasel words and what it implied as to the knights possible state of mind. (though currently, Kurith can no longer hear the knight’s or weasel’s thoughts)

 

You realize that the knight remembers nothing of its former life, save for a faint recollection of having been a paladin in the service of an unnamed deity. Though it remains unclear how much the undead knight knows what it is to be a paladin.

 

It would seem your fate has been intertwined with that of the knight’s, for the knight will clearly need help and guidance if its to achieve its goal, and you’ll need the knights aid if you are to survive! Together you both stand a chance of achieving what one could not alone; save the City of Splendors and hopefully yourself in the process.

 

You of course may do as you will, trusting all, including the knight’s fate to the weasel and hope that someone still lives within the cities walls to see the next sunrise.

 

 

Kurith and The High Road…

Even as Kurith and the knight stand facing one another, Kurith sees other undead come into view. A ghoul rushes headlong like a scurrying animal and enters the Underdark through the inn’s main entrance, paying no heed to Kurith or the knight.

 

Another befuddling sight catches Kurith attention. Two figures, a man and women from there outfits, are walking hand in hand, wearing what was likely at one time their Sunday best. They stroll casually along and as they draw nearer Kurith sees that they are both clearly undead. Before turning up a street the undead man tips his hat at Kurith and the female makes a smile that nearly cracks her face.

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For a long time Kurith faces the undead knight in utter confusion. As the fog of rage clears further from her mind, Kurith realizes that the undead knight had indeed attacked the half-elf, but her disappearance had nothing to do with that attack. She had likely used magic to save herself and fled. But this leaves Kurith completely nonplussed is that in the past few moments the knight had ample chance to escape with the golden rod while Kurith was in no condition to resist.

 

He answers Kurith's questions only with silence. Something about the little animal skull jogs Kurith's memory of a the dream she had had during the night. She looks the knight up and down, shaking her head.

 

"You gotta be jokin'.. a dead knight. ..a weasel...an' a talkin' head? ...this ain't really real... is it?", Kurith mutters to herself, though she already knows the answer. Then the undead knight reaches its arm out, gesturing toward the coveted rod. While she has her eyes locked on the undead knight and the rod, her ears detect the sounds of another interloper moving about in the street. While still watching the knight from the corner of her eyes, she sees a ghoul rush into the Underdark Tavern oblivious to her presence. Next, a pair of undead creatures pass closeby, one a man and the other his wife. The latter holds the former's hand and the former tips his tatty hat to Kurith. A deep foreboding fills her heart. 'I'm one of 'em too.'.

 

At last Kurith comes to grips with the nature of the dream. It had not been a foreshadow, but rather a very recent memory which had somehow found its way into her mind. The knight seems to be trying to save the city and is gathering the artifacts in order to keep them out of the hands of the liches. Kurith also realizes in her recollection of the dream that she was foolish to ask the undead knight any questions, because it had lost its tongue many centuries ago.

 

Slowly, and with both eyes on the knight, she picks up her sack and opens it so that the knight may have a look at its peculiar interior.

 

"If ya jus' wanna keep the liches from ever gettin' it, all ya gotta do is put it in one o'these sacks an' poke a hole in the sack. then it'll be gone where can't nobody get to it." Kurith's eyes float to the door of the Underdark Tavern for a second or two as though expecting one of her friends to emerge as a newly-raised undead too.

 

She then looks back at the knight and throws her hands out to her sides in an exaggerated gesture of frustration. "So what's your big idea? Huh? ... Whaddya say? ...Oh... I fergot...you ain't sed nothin.cuz the rats got yer tongue."

 

Provided the knight does not try to stop her, Kurith will begin putting items back into the sack.

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Kurith…

The knight shakes its head from left to right upon hearing Kurith’s suggestion of disposing the gold staff piece.

 

 

Undead Knight...

”Just look at that haul of hers. What are the odds that the only creature you come across that may be helpful, is a thief that’s been looting everyone she’s come across?” the weasel says as Kurith begins returning the items back into the bag of holding.

 

”Thief or no, she could be of some help. Just look at that axe of hers, would be nice to have some backup if we have to fight for any of the other staff pieces we come across.” the knight replies

 

”sure your right. Now I know why they say love is blind, and luckily too, she’s a howler for sure” the weasel persists

 

Ignoring the weasel’s comment the knight bends down to pickup the only thing of interest to him, the gold staff piece!

 

”watch it now, you don’t know if she’s house broken. She may try gnawing off your arm if you just go reaching for her stuff like that.” the weasel adds.

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The undead knight shakes its head as though to indicate it disagrees with the validity of her plan.

 

"Yeah? Then I'll jus' keep it 'til I find somebody who has a better idea.", Kurith snaps back at the creature, frustrated with its inability to communicate any better than with nods and pointing fingers.

 

When the knight bends to pick up the rod, Kurith drops the other objects she is holding.. "Like HELL you do! It's MINE!", she snarls as she rushes at him with her hands out as though to push him back.

 

___

 

[OOC}

yeah.. it's a Bull Rush..so you can AoO if you wanna. She's a big girl. She can take it.

BTW her STR check >> link

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Undead Knight...

The knight jumps back at Kurith’s sudden outburst, but shows no sign that it is threaten by her or that it plans to harm her.

 

”Don’t say you told me so.” the knight states

 

”who me? Now why would I say something like that.” the weasel replies in an innocent speaking tone ”do you still have all your fingers?”

 

”never mind that. I at least know where that piece is and that means the other lich’s servants do not possess it." the knight says

 

”you intend to just let her keep it then?” the weasel asks

 

”Why not. So long as I can keep her close by, It’ll be the same as if it were in my keeping. Besides, there are many more pieces needing to be found. Why fight over the one piece when there is so little time left for us to find the others.” the knight explains to the weasel

 

”why so sure she doesn’t serve the other lich?” the weasel probes

 

”The other female she fought provided me with that information. My first instinct was to strike this female down. I believed she was an evil undead trying to kill an innocent person. I would have followed through with my attack had not the other female demanded that I kill this one to better serve the liches.” the knight finishes explaining, then waits till Kurith has gather up her belongings.

 

The knight then points to Kurith then to itself. A moment later it raises the shrunken head after it has mental asked the Cerebricule where is the Staff of Waterdeep.

 

The shrunken head dangles by its filthy hair, twisting slowly in the breeze. It inhales deeply in every direction. Finally it speaks. "Ad leazt one pieze thad way, in North Ward. 'Nother pieze, or more, in Cazzle Ward, alzo here in Zouthern ward"

 

It drones a long list; there seem to be pieces of the staff in most wards of the city, along with several in the harbor and countryside. However, it does not name all twelve pieces, so you suspect you will not find these.

 

The knight would swear an oath, if it could recall whom it once swore by.

 

”whew, your lucky it never revealed that to the lich” the weasel says excitedly

 

"Head," the knight begins to ask, "if you know where the pieces are, why did you not tell your owner, the lich?"

 

"Piezes only detectable to those good at heart. Good heart uses me, I talk. Pard of enchantment guarding them. Ver' bowerful zbell." the Cerebricule says. Kurith can hear the Cerebricule speak, but she can only follow half the conversation.

 

"Amazing," the knight thinks. Then the weasel murmurs, "Good thing the little monster didn't speak up while Abraxa was around. Well then,

where do you go from here?" the weasel asks

 

”perhaps she’s more familiar with the city and the surrounding area, let’s let her decide. We be no better off if I made the choice.” the knight replies

 

When the knights sees that Kurith has collected herself and is prepared to move on, it repeats its gestures, to and then from her to itself, then motions with the shrunken head in the general direction of all the places the Cerebricule listed off.

 

The knight stands waiting to see if Kurith understands its meaning and for her to chose where they should head first.

 

 

Kurith...

You are currently in Southern Ward and know that there is at least one more staff piece located here, it is roughly midday and there is an overcast sky.

 

You may begin your search here in Southern Ward or one of the other locations listed below.

 

Castle Ward

Dock Ward

North Ward

City of the Dead

Sea Ward

Trades Ward

Waterdeep Harbor

Surrounding countryside

 

Now the fun really begins! :blink:::P:::D:Good luck! :poke:::D::lol:

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The Staff of Waterdeep…

The Staff of Waterdeep is the most recent creation of the archmage of Waterdeep, Khelben "Blackstaff' Arunsun. This good wizard has produced powerful items in times past, but in the staff, he has surpassed himself. The cerebricule tells you of the staffs history.

 

Khelben heard from an oracle that a major peril threatened his city, danger from "those who sleep not." Presuming that this meant the undead, the wizard created a rod able to destroy or resurrect the undead, among the most powerful effects of necromantic magic. To prepare the staff, Khelben collected materials representing the best of life: love, honor, piety, bravery, joy. Each of the items he gathered embodied these virtues, and in addition they imbued the staff with the mystical power their histories had accrued. Khelben kept his staff in his own tower, thinking it impenetrable. But he did not reckon on the wizardry of the liches, Haurrant and Abraxa. On the night the Effluvium was to permeate the city, they lured Khelben away on false pretexts, then assaulted the tower with all the strength at their command. Though hundreds of their undead servants perished against Khelben's defenses, Abraxa managed to lay its hands on the staff. Then Khelben's brilliant guardian enchantment came into play. At the touch of an evil being, the staff broke apart, and its components reverted to their original forms and flew across the city to their old locations. The liches could not foil the concealment spell that hid their whereabouts.

 

The Staff pieces… Click Here for Picture

Dragon Tooth

Crystal

Iron

Wood

Ruby

Gold

Silver

Ice

Stone

Ceramic

Ivory

Unicorn Horn

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Kurith is surprised when the undead knight does not make a better effort to stand its ground or make a counter-attack hen she rushe forward. It seems to her that it does not want to harm her at all..at least not at the present. Being the pragmatic creature that she usuall is, that is to say when she has not been provoked, Kurith decides to find out what course of action this undead knight has in mind. When she is sure the knight will keep its place, Kurith begins putting all of the looted items back in her sack.

 

When she finishes, the knight points at her, and then at himself, a mute friendship gesture of some kind Kurith guesses. When he holds up the shrunken head, Kurith cannot help but to recall an old marrying custom that is peculiar to particularly remote tribes of northman or orcs.

 

"You ain't my kind of..", Kurith starts, but then the head begins talking. At first Kurith cannont understand what it is talking about, but soon enough she puts the words into context and becomes aware that the talking head knows where the other pieces of the staff are located. A bit of further listening cues Kurith in to the fact that the head can communicate silently with the knight too.

 

"So...you wanna go get all them pieces b'fore that haff-elf finds 'em.. an' you want me to help ya? Right?", Kurith asks, her gaze shifting back and forth between the knight's decayed head and the shrunken head. She is not sure yet just which one is controlling the other yet. "Trouble is..", Kurith says, pausing to point to her freshly wounded arm, "..is I'm pretty busted up, an' don't none of the healin' draughts work like they used'ta. They jus' burn."

 

Long silence from Kurith as she contemplates the folding shortbow which had until recently belonged to Darius. She has not yet returned it to the bag and has decided she might keep it handy even if she is a less-than-average archer.

 

"So how we gonna find that piece you sez is here in the Southern? We don't even know what it looks like. How'd you find this 'un?" Kurith points at her bag while she is asking the last question. Then, after the talking head has had a chance to reply, Kurith asks a question that she immediately finds funny enough to make her laugh, but she asks nevertheless.

 

"Been undead long?"

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