Part 4: The Night Continues

 

The ravine shifts and cracks the sandstone, breaking apart the road--down below is a fall over 60 feet deep. Whyrvoar, mad out of his mind, catches alight from the inside and begins running down the streets--unaware of anything around him or anyone.

 

As you get to Nathbryn... make a dexterity save to keep from falling in the ravine. (She just barely passes, but you guys will do better too if you work together--Nemmy can aid from the air, or help anyone else too since she's flying)

 

Nemmonis moans in annoyance and dives for the tempest barely grabbing onto him in time. She flys him quickly to her aunt and drops him on his feet

 

From the safety you're now at, you can see hundreds of dog-sized, cavorting devils with blue skin and cloven hooves crowd the narrow ledges inside the ravine. They fall off with shrieks of horror and delight, dying on impact below.

 

Alrik hugs Nathbryn and sighs in relief. "Where the fuck is Breehani with her banishment spells when you need her!?" He squeezes her tightly, breathing heavily. "I thought I'd lost you, and worse, I couldn't stop it..."

 

Nathbryn comes out of her shell-shock after a second, blinking away the surprise as she's squeezed tightly.

 

"A-Alrik, you're fine! Knucklehead... You can't stop everything." She yanks you back for a second, staring you up and down. Your eyes are still alight with a burning draconic fire, glowing from within. You have scales running up your neck and your face, copper-colored and shimmering with sweat.

 

"This all seems new--are you okay?? Are you cursed or some shit?"

 

She tries to get to her feet and winces, cussing in drow under her breath. Nathbryn looks over at Nemmonis, then back at Alrik. There's an annoyed, worried, irritated, thankful mix of weird unpleasant emotions trying to bubble up from behind the mask that is the Scourge.

Chantry

 

The Tempest shakes his head. "It goes away once I calm down. I mean... things may be slightly different, but... the scales fade, the teeth and claws retract... the eyes go back to normal. It's nothing really new." He pulls the shredded glove off his left hand, showing the large scales and claws on his hand. "It's the draconian blood. It isn't a curse, per se... Breehani says it's a blessing that I need to be careful about. Fuck, we can have this conversation later. We gotta figure out what the fuck to do here!"

 

Cries for help echo from across the church’s courtyard behind you three.  The silhouettes of an adult and child waver in the shimmering heat on the opposite side of the ravine. They look frantically over their shoulders into the gloom of Verhold. In the distance beyond them, you can see three wights righting nightmarish black horses wreathed in fire--all of them converging toward the two innocents.

 

“Please, get my daughter to the church! The beasts are almost here!”

 

Nemmonis shoots forward towards both of them and as she does, she lets out the last of her magic for the night extending from her out stretched hand

 

She guides three of them at the horses and two at riders

 

The Storm Caller reaches his hand out toward the Priestess, shouting as loud as he can. "Throw me something holy! A relic or something!"

 

He looks at The Scourge and sighs. "I'm not great at this..." he begins clawing an abjuration circle on the ground. (Attempting to cast banishment. I have access to the spell, but it's not one of Alrik's "learned" spells...)

 

Nemmonis: You reach the half orc man and his child just in time--the glistening magic of Io's daughter erupts from your hand, and you feel a pulsating, forceful ache in each of your bones of your arm as the power lets loose. Red and green converge on one vicious nightmare, and blue and white upon another. Black engulfs the last one, and you see the horse flail on it's back legs, kicking at the phantasm of dark and holy energy. Their ethereal teeth slice through the magical beings, slicing them bloodlessly.

 

Turning toward the father, you see he is soot-covered and bloody from a gash across his forehead. His spectacles are askew, and his daughter is sobbing into his shoulder--thankfully unhurt. In one hand he holds a crowbar, and shakily keeps from swinging it, jumping at every little crumbling sound of the ravine.

 

"T-thank you! Thank you!! Please," his eyes are wide.

 

Alrik: The priestess pats herself down, looking hastily for a holy item--she rushes toward you, tossing a bar of bare iron engraved with a beautiful rose. You recognize it as the same symbol on Saint Sofia's armor, the Rose of St. Terragnis, her goddess.

 

(Ok that'll need a Cha save.. what's the save DC?) I can describe more

Atriox

 

Nemmonis grabs them both and quickly takes flight, hoping Alric and her aunt can hold on they’re own for a moment. She veers them towards the rest of they’re people to drop them off

Chantry

 

Nemmonis: You easily pick up the two of them, though your one arm aches still from the spell. You can feel the girl trembling against you. Orc, human, it didn't matter at this point--Tak's words came back to you as you set them down. Scrappy little bastards.

 

Priestess Ava runs forward with her arms out and embraces the two of them, thanking you profusely. "Oh thank the saints, Robert! Is little Isabella hurt? Are you alright?"

 

You see the intense reunion from your peripheral as you gaze back toward the giant ravine, shrieking blue imps climbing up to just throw themselves back inside to their doom, laughing with glee. The 3 nightmares and their riders stop on the other side with angry screeches and whinnies, snorting fire and brimstone.

 

Alrik: Your draconic claws dig through the sandstone purposefully, dutifully. The Scourge kneels beside you, attempting to help where she can although this is not her forte at all. She presses a hand to the ground, on the abjuration circle, and another hand on your back. She glances at you, gritting her teeth. "Can't say we didn't try, huh?"

 

It lights up bright with a blinding flash. Enveloping you both, Nathbryn shields her eyes completely blinded by it. Tchernabog, from up on his high mountain, sees the flash. He winces at the brightness and goodness of it and snarls. It does not banish him... but definitely gains his attention. Bringing up his hands again in a crescendo, dark red and blue flames erupt into balls of hellfire, hurdling straight towards you.

 

Alrik smirks. "At least we got the fucker's attention!" He raises his staff and once again speaks a few words in a long dead language, the only one you're able to understand again being Sturmgrimm... (calling it to return to him, and a 21 dex save)

 

You can see the fireball incoming--a massive force of brimstone and heat--and dodge just in time to avoid being pulverized on impact. The heat washes over you like a steam bath--scalding hot and painful, but your draconic scales seem to absorb most of it. Nathbryn cries out and ducks behind a building the first chance she can get--you can see her exposed skin looks blistered and red, and she fishes into her belongings for some kind of tonic. Once she finds one, she rips the cork stopper out with her teeth and downs the entire bottle.

 

Great gouts of fire skitter across the ground like dragons, and the ravine breaks apart further where the fireball hit. A second one lands perhaps 10 feet away, just as destructive and deadly. Fire imps leap from the wreckage and dance upon the corpses of fallen skeletons and lesser devils.

 

Nemmonis, the ground shakes beneath your feet from the impact of the blasts. The nightmares and wights spur back along the far side of the ravine, laughing cruelly at the chaos, noise, and chorus of the dead. You can see the father and daughter are still safe, heading back inside the church until the assault quiets. The statue of Saint Sofia glistens with light as a shimmering aura begins to permeate from it.

 

Pebbles scatter beside you Alrik as the claws of the great Sturmgrimm seek purchase on the sandstone road. He looks battered and bruised, but alive. A crooning noise, fierce but gentle. gurgles from beneath it's muscular neck.

 

The Tempest glances at Nathbryn, a serious look on his face. "Bryn... I... don't want to, but if shit keeps going sideways, I might have to..."

 

He reaches a hand out toward the enormous storm incarnate that is the Sturmgrimm. "Let's go cause some chaos..." (whoooo! Lets go! 19 animal? Lol... handling)

Chantry

 

Nemmonis quickly looks to the sky to see what time it is, how much of the night has passed

 

Sturmgrimm paws at the ground, shaking his head up and down like an angry horse might. it's frustrated, irritated, and pissed--probably just s much as you both are. Although it is fighting its urge to go back into the fray, the crooning touch (the handle animal) brings it a bit of comfort and peace. Nathbryn watches you and the animal warily, trying to figure out what to think of it all and how you can all get out alive.

 

Nemmonis, you can see that the edge of the horizon is.... faint. It looks like you've spent most of the night in this perpetual hellscape, but the first signs of morning are not too far off. The ground shutters beneath your clawed feet, and the mist rises further off the strange, ethereal looking statue of Saint Sofia.

 

Staring at the statue wearily and backing up a bit brandishing her sword and marshaling her strength.

 

Over her shoulder she calls, “You are needed here with the people tempest. We cannot leave them nor can we beat THAT, we must hold out till dawn”

 

Alrik makes eye contact with Nathbryn, then looking over to Nemmonis. "I don't have to beat it... I just have to keep it distracted. I... don't know what else to do." He sighs heavily. "I'm part of the Mage Guard. A soldier. I'm not supposed to survive everything... if it means I go down fighting and you all can live, then by The Gods, that's what I'm going to do..."

 

He rests his hand on the Sturmgrimm, taking a deep breath. "Nemmonis, what's your plan? I'll go with it for now, but if this keeps going downhill, worse and worse, I'm jumping on this storm's back and doing what I can to protect everyone..."

 

Nemmonis hears his words and looks around quickly trying to figure out all the pieces in this game

 

You feel an intense pressure pulse through the air from the courtyard. You turn to look. Another rockets through.

 

Something looks different now, out in front of you-- what deep troublesome magic remains before you. A beaufitul, terrible power, strong and holy and wrathful. A winged, golden-armored woman strides over the church’s cracked floor. She is... huge. Gorgeous. Not human... is she? Her body is translucent, and her eyes and halo glow with daylight.

 

Energy ripples from her, outward through both of you. Her pupil-less eyes stare past you into the abyss, into the future. Her mouth opens, but does not speak. However you can hear her clear as day in your mind--both of you can--a smooth, honey-like tume.

 

"You have been faithful, children, and for that I am thankful," her eyes continue to stare ahead. "The evil of this devil had to be contained. I gave up my Divine Spark a hundred years ago.... Sacrificed it, in order to save this beatiful little town. My sacrifice bound Tchernabog forever... or so I thought."

 

Priestess Ava, hovering nearby at the steps to the church, is completely overwhelmed and falls to her knees before the risen spirit of her patron saint. Saint Sofia raises her arm, a sword in hand. The entire length glows like a hot coal, though it does not seem to burn.

 

Her voice wavers through the hot night air, flickering at the edges of your consciousness:

 

"I can re-bind Tchernabog at dawn, if you can keep those in my charge safe... We are so close... we only have another hour..."

Alrik, having felt the goodness within the iron ingot, immediately springs to action and climbs up the Sturmgrimm's back. "Nemmonis, you and I can own the skies. Nathbryn, you stay here and try to keep them back. This town may be basically in ruins, but I'll be damned if we're going to let it become totally fucked..."

 

He kicks the Storm Elemental bird into flight, jolting forward surrounded by lightning, each wing beat of the Sturmgrimm a thunderclap... (19 perception to see any baddies)

 

Nemmomis hears the tempest and registers what he say but is drawn to the supposed saint. Daring to approach her she extends a hand

 

The Sturmgrimm's muscles beat a heavy rhythm beneath you as you fly up into the cover of a thundercloud. You feel every muscle in your body ache from your magical exhaustion. You also see everything around you for miles... the huge crevasse that's cut through the earth from the base of the mountain, and a second wrapping its way in the other direction. Hot red flame leaping from the exposed earth, and jets of steam erupting from the wounds. Imps and devils leap and dance along the length of it, hundreds--thousands--leaping off into the depths to their destruction. The great devil himself atop the mountain conducts what is essentially a horrific, terrible orchestra of debauchery and death--a demigod of a souless refrain.

 

The ground shivers again as the earth rips apart. You can see where a great deal of the skeletons are coming from.. and the density and mass of them, and what they're wearing, confirm your suspicions. This town is dangerously close to an ancient graveyard--a mass graveyard from some long-forgotten battle between the orcs. Whether that was before or during this long and heinous war, you're not sure--but it is unmistakable. Larger beasts, undead rhinos crawl forward from the sand. And something else stirs....

 

You take a step closer and the spirit of Saint Sofia takes a step forward too. She closes her wings around herself, their size making her almost as tall as you. Her sword lowers and she touches you with the pommel of it, a blessing against your forehead. A blinding light soaks into your soul.

 

You can see, almost as if in a dream, an ethereal being behind her: what must be Saint Terragnis in all her glory. Her golden pupil-less eyes bore into you and you feel every scale on your body tingle with energy, relief, and hope.

 

You hear--BOTH of you hear--her speaking to you in your mind. Alrik, you feel tendrils of energy from the weave below you, and as you look down at your comrades you see Nemmonis and Nathbryn both enveloped in the same ropes of holy energy. And a rope whips up through the sky, lancing around the legs of you and your mount.

 

"You are bound in goodness, balance, and justice together, and as such you have defended my people. I bless upon you a boon of greatest import, of life, and of power. Protect them as you will protect each other."

 

It feels like sunshine melting up your bodies as molten gold. Your sore muscles recover, your hearts beat stronger, and your injuries heal over, scar-less and clean.

 

"The witchmoons will descend back into the ether soon... the dawn brings with her great power, and will help me re-bind Tchernabog. Please... keep them safe until then..."

 

The ethereal solar floats backward, carried by her tie to her ancient, petrified body, cast in stone forever watching over her people. As your eyes adjust back to the darkness of the storm, the lightning, and the fire, Nemmonis, you look to your side and see a sword stuck in the ground. It glows brilliantly, one of the famous swords of Saint Sofia herself. It glows with an immensely powerful, legendary power--a gold-chased, luminous blade with a double crossguard.

 

You feel your body shiver with the power that flows through your scales. Lightning trickles over your skin, up your arms and up your neck, coalescing into two small horns hidden amid your hair... Your eyes glow bright, like the eyes of your great bird.  And with them, you can see what else stirs along the sand:

 

Devils excitedly pull four skeletons of ancient giants from deep within the earth, infusing them with a burning hatred that manifests as an aura of fire. Mobile siege weapons for infernal legions, they could easily hurtle boulders that could crush walls in a single hit. The towering, skeletal frames of these giants rise to their feet, igniting with boiling tongues of flame. The one in front lurches forward, swinging its tree-trunk arms.

 

Townspeople Alive: 140

Townspeople Save in Church Walls: 140

Priestess Ava: Alive, Healed

Wights: 47

Skeletons: 492

Rhinos: 18

Harpies: Endless

Ghosts: Endless

Giants: 4

 

(You guys saved 140 people total at this point, and as such are blessed with additional hit points split among you equal to that--I won't count Nath in it, so you each have an additional 70 hp each 😃 Which... you will likely need. A lot.

 

You're also both treated as if you had a long rest from that--all spell slots have been recovered, exhaustion (if any) is gone for now. Special racial abilities have re-filled if any.

 

As for the sword, you can chose to use it--it can be used as a 1 handed weapon (she duel wielded swords herself) and I can give you the stats for what it does for the duration of this night... haha. )

Thu 8:21 PM

Chantry

 

(Ooooooooh! Spell slots recovered, you say?! Perfect... muhahaha!)

 

Alrik urges the Sturmgrimm forward, his eyes hyperfocused upon the giants being pulled from the sand and stone. "Fuck you, demon! This desert, a godawful wasteland that it is, is the closest thing to home I've had and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you destroy it!" He roars into the air, more just getting it off his chest than anything.

 

As the Sturmgrimm closes in on the skeletal rhinos and giants, the Storm Caller leans forward, squeezing tightly with his legs as he raises both hands, the blue liquid-like energy nearly breaking away from his skin due to the wind and sheer speed of the descent of the elemental beast beneath him...

 

Alrik brings his hands together, condensing the blue energy flowing down his arms into a ball of crackling energy before hurling it to the ground in the middle of the giants. (Casting storm sphere at 5th level. Aaaaand it's gonna be.....

Chantry

 

(25 to hit the upright giant, and everything within 20 feet of it need to make a strength saving throw, DC 18)

 

(13 bludgeoning damage, the area becomes difficult terrain, and any creature within 30 ft have disadvantage on perception... oh, and this lasts a minute... as long as Alrik keeps concentration... and starting next turn, I can have it shoot lightning at 1 target within 60ft as a bonus action. Lol)

 

Nemmonis grabs the glowing sword, though it feels wrong in her hands and charges towards one of the giant flaming skeletons almost like a berserker

 

@  The crackling ball of energy explodes against the chest of the first giant skeleton, knocking him backward a few steps as he tries to keep his balance. You can see half the rib cage has cracked open now, and exposes a heart beating of liquid fire and rock.

 

The blast itself shakes the ground, sending the undead rhinos tumbling and another of the skeletons loses half its skull in the attack. At least several dozen imps have died, but twice as many take their place, pulling the remaining skeletons from the sand. They all begin walking behind their leader on the steady march to the church, flames of hellfire burning along their blackened bodies.

 

@  Nemmonis charges ahead as soon as the blast clears, darting through the billowing sand cloud it created. Smashing past the tumbling rocks this strange, glowing paladin sword from Saint Sofia makes contact with a monster--the 2nd skeleton--smashing open its jaw. It hangs unhinged now from the gaping mouth.

 

The one in the front swipes up, its long arms clawing the sky and reaching for you and your elemental mount. (2 attacks with multiattack, 12 and 22 to hit--12 slashing damage and 3 fire damage from it if it hits

 

The 2nd one that Nemmy attacked turns toward her, racking its claws. (16 and 6 to hit)

 

The other two coming out of the ground bring with them giant boulder-sized rocks. 19 to hit from one and 23 to hit with the other--19 flies up at Chant, 23 aims at Nemmy

Chantry

 

(22 hits the Sturmgrimm. 15 HPs down from the first skele. What's damage on the rock?)

 

Alrik urges the Sturmgrimm back down into a dive bomb, flying directly through the epicenter of the skeleton giant horde... (Using Sturmgrimm's flyby trait to attack. 26 and 27 to hit. What are the size categories of the giants?)

DM:

(Those hit! Huge undead 🙂

Chantry

(Haha! Perfect. Sturmgrimm's talon attack can function as a grapple... and grapple works 1 size category larger!)

(38 damage, and 1 giant is grappled, then Alrik is going to have the Sturmgrimm use its lightning breath... lining up as many baddies as possible. 60ft line, 10ft wide. Dex save, DC 20)

(...and after that... Sturmgrimm flies back up to 120ft up. Flyby mechanics makes it so a dive bomb doesn't use movement... how broken is that?! Wtf, WotC?! Lol)

Chantry

 

The Sturmgrimm's hit by one of the large rocks, letting out a deep, angry cry. It falters in the sky before twisting around into a divebomb and takes the skeletons unawares--raking one across the face with its deadly claws, and another one across the arm. The fire on their bodies burns this close up, but the speed of the flight keeps you relatively safe.

 

It latches on to the chest of the 2nd one it hit, talons digging in around the burning rib cage. It cries out angerly, its open mouth building up a coalescence of energy before blasting it in the neck with a pure lightning bolt. It lances through the skeleton's vertebrae and strikes the 4th skeleton behind it before taking back to the sky.