Scene III: Into Elysium

[Tllith]

Tllith points out to the enemy mezzodaemons, "Don't you think it's a really wonderful day to escape alive? I don't think you're going to get another day to escape alive like this if you don't escape alive now!"

[Stix]

The remaining hostile mezzoloths do indeed take Tllith's advice and vanish as their more helpful "comrades" dispatch the hostile zombie. The two remaining mezzoloths who aided in Abaia's defense stay behind, along with the corpse they animated.

It's barely a moment later that John's empty armor careens out of the open sky, crumpling on the grass. It's followed closely by a heavy sack which lands with a thump on a softer patch of ground... and, a few longer moments later, by Hadrian, who falls in steadily, his plummet cushioned by an updraft. Other than his belongings, there is no sign of the Taker.

"You win the field. What do you win?" one of the mezzoloths asks through a buzzing telepathic broadcast.

[Tllith]

Tllith ignores the mezzoloths' question, and scrambles over to John's armor, her tail lashing frantically. "Oh, no! Where did John go? His armor came back but he did not! Did he take his armor off in the sky and run away? Oh, no! This is very bad! I have something very important to tell John! And John is not here! Oh, no! Maybe he took off his helmet and his face wasn't under it, and neither was the rest of him! Oh, no!"

[exile]

(A partial repost from the other thread...)

Hadrian landed unceremoniously on his behind and picked himself up with as much dignity as he could muster. John's bag had hit bottom a few moments before and the aasimar now strode over to loosen its drawstrings. Near by the young wyrm was hollering shrilly and he winced at her unceasing deluge of speech. "Peace child," he announced. "All is well."

He didn't know whether he ought to reach inside or simply call out to the dubiously lucky Taker. "John?" he inquired, opting for the latter. "You can keep your silver. It would seem you saved yourself."

[john]

No response from the bag.

[exile]

(And yet I love that you posted that...)

Hearing no answer nor seeing any indication of life there in, Hadrian called out to the warrior again, and this time thrust a seeking hand inside. "John?"

[Shadow]

"He... didn't really..." the Indep says incredulously, seeming to be just barely fighting back laughter. "...there... isn't air in... he's not really in the bag, right? You're... just makin' gullies out o' the lot of us." He keeps his eyes glued to the bag, doubting the Bleaker to be the prankster type.

[john]

John will grab the hand from the inside of the bag, assuming he can (Gm discretion on this) and will let himself be dragged out.

[Stix]

Hadrian can get hold of John easily and pull him out of the bag.

[john]

John comes out with a nod, and even something of a wink.

"Right then. Everything sorted down here?" He looks around, pulling out his morning star from the bag a moment later, with him.

[Tllith]

"You and Hadrian went flying up into the sky! Then you came down in a sack! We had to fight all the mezzoloths by ourselves. Except those two, they helped us. We didn't save any for you to fight." Tllith nuzzles John's chest with her spiky faceplate. "I'm very sorry! I said I'd guard your knees, but I couldn't! They went up off the ground and I couldn't reach them! You need to stay on the ground so I can do what I said. It's not my fault, really!" she adds, in a plaintive voice that makes it clear that she thinks it is her fault somehow.

[john]

John pauses for a moment, and just puts a callused hand on Tllith's neck.
"You did nothing wrong." He pats the dragon like a parent would a small child, after a moment. "The big one pulled a trick on us, it wasn't your fault. My knees are fine." John is, however, bleeding from his other wounds, and just looks fairly exhausted. Also Tllith, and everyone else can plainly see that John's face (Hitherto hidden by his helm) is mostly a skull, the flesh permanently seared and burned back from it in a large, painful mass. He's tremendously ugly even before this horrific wound, but now looks like something of a monster.

[Tllith]

Tllith peers up at John's ruined face. "Oh, no! Your face! You
said your face got exploded, and it did! It looks almost as bad as mine would
look if I took off my faceplate!" Which is very likely true, since her
faceplate is an large and integral part of her head.

[john]

"My face has been like this for some time. Think nothing of it."

[exile]

Hadrian smiled wearily. "I'm glad to see you're see you're still standing, no matter how bad you may look, basher. It would seem you aren't the only one to have be dealt a wound."

Indeed the ache in his own legs was exquisite, and the aasimar suspected he would be walking with a limp for a number of days yet.

"Come, lets have a look at the lot of you."

(OOC: I'm not actually sure what Hadrian's functional clerical level is this far removed from Ysgard. I think orision is the most efficient means of restoring lost HP although I've got some higher level spells on hand for specific injuries at DM's discretion.)

[Stix]

(A correction in John's description: there aren't any burns, but from cheek to jaw on the right side, the skin has been almost completely flayed off. The injury was caused not by any explosion of the spark, but rather when Abaia tried to slice his head off; the searing pain and flash of white were from his head trauma. Of course, he wouldn't necessarily know that.

(Hadrian is down two levels on Elysium. Fixing John's face will require magic capable of restoring severed flesh, like Regenerate, but regular HP can be restored with Orison, 3+1/caster level, at a rate of 1/rd.)

[exile]

(Haven't got that... its Orison, CLWs or CMWs. Can't even cast repair injury until we get back to Sigil. Can I use second level slots to cast orisons?)

Hadrian reached out to touch the macerated skin on John's face, and pursed his lips in thought.
"Not much I can do for your grin here and now Taker. Perhaps when we strike camp again I can clean up the edges a bit. It'll taker stronger magic than mine to close it over. These other cuts and bruises are another matter. Just say the word."

(I'm thinking 7 back to John [20gp], and 7 back to Nuuko because they're the most battered of the lot. Depending on the ruling with second level slots I'll also heal Hadrian, and probably Nuuko again.)

[john]

"My face is a symbol. The other wounds, heal them if you must, but leave my face. It was the price of my survival, I think."

[Tllith]

Jan 9, 2010 19:57:02 GMT -5 john said:

"My face is a symbol. The other wounds, heal them if you must, but leave my face. It was the price of my survival, I think."

"I think it looks very good on you," says Tllith, more loyally than truthfully. "I think it almost gives you a fear aura. I don't get that for another century or something."

[arcanumzero]

Having slowly regained his equilibrium, Ghaeldan drags himself to his feet, pulls his great red sword from the otherwise unblemished earth, and makes his disgruntled way over to the remaining combatants.

"Ho," he says, with a somewhat half-hearted salute. He looks Abaia over, disapppointment apparent on his face, then jerks his chin toward Nuuko. "I seem to have missed the party. I gather that we are no longer hunting the weaving-spear? A pity."

Then his broad, eerie grin returns as his eyes alight on Xianna. "That will teach me to belay my baser instincts for a soothing soak." He strides up to the female tiefling and leers at her from bottom to top to bottom again, lingering in the middle. "Nevermind. You can service my shattered spirit by telling me the tale, curving-blade."