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Post by john on Jul 17, 2008 20:15:18 GMT -5
Struggles to reply with his flayed jaw, but manages, as he grasps for the throwing knives. "Yuh. Do it. Now." Crimson agony plays itself out in his field of vision, but he manages to shoulder the bandolier and grasp a knife. Finally. A weapon.
"Let's go." He says, his voice taking on a guttural, rasping quality. He looks at the tanar'ri and takes a step closer to the aasimon. .oO(It will make an end worthy of song, if nothing else.) He smiles, but the flesh-shorn face makes it looks like a rictus expression.
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Post by Stix on Jul 20, 2008 23:26:30 GMT -5
(Needless to say, I thought the scarring idea was fun and badass.  The deva limps as quickly as he can manage through the wide-gaping doorframe, sparing a glance to the main room of the waystation as it gradually refills with bewildered mercenaries and fiends. A hateful red sun hangs low in a charcoal sky above a blackened plain. All around is the odor of rancid meat, and the barren wasteland stretching out for miles in every direction, pockmarked with craters and sinkholes, dotted with hills, corpses, and jutting rock. The force with which John's head injury was struck has left him reeling, making it difficult to focus his eyes on anything and has left a tinny ringing in his ears. " This way," the deva calls, gesturing with the weapon in his good arm to a stunted hill. The closer the two get, the better John can make out a large hole in the hillside, which looks alarmingly like the entry to a burrow of some great beast. Behind, a few handfuls of tanar'ri begin to give chase out of the "tavern".... (We'll go in 2e from here -- Strength check to speed up if you hope to make it to the portal before the fiends make it to you.) |
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Post by john on Jul 21, 2008 18:08:09 GMT -5
John moves unsteadily, but tries to beat feet, to avoid the racing hellions behind him.
[dice=20] [rand=4212356210878817571941934801833308657393295538437956497655425879]
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Post by john on Jul 21, 2008 23:27:39 GMT -5
John lays hold on two of the knives, ready to spin and throw at the leading members of the fiend pack if it will buy him some time, hoping if he has to do it they'll try to avoid them and cause a scrum instead of simply powering through the flying blades. But he doesn't know enough of fiendish nature to be sure whether a gambit like that will work.... so he keeps running until he knows he's beaten.
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Post by Stix on Jul 23, 2008 16:25:30 GMT -5
The deva makes it to the passage first, looking back to see John closing in and leaving the nearest pursuers -- four twisted and malformed rutterkin -- in his wake. " Stay close!" he calls, folding in his injured wings -- when did he suffer those wounds? -- and diving headfirst into the burrow. John follows with relative ease, crawling some twenty paces before the unintelligibly-yowling fiends reach the mouth of the tunnel and begin to shout. An enormous, deafening roar sounds from the depths, flooding out the noise of the tanar'ri. Fevered grunts from something that sounds far too big for this small a space hasten the Taker and the celestial onward. " Here!" the aasimon yells over the noise, disappearing through the active portal, now unobstructed before John. Through the haze of its plane-spanning energies, he can see something in the meager light that fills the tunnel from wall to wall, closing in fast.... (The both of them will be dumped into the middle of this scene at Zero. My next post will be for the appearance of the deva; jump in any time after.) |
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