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Tavern of Legend Event 3: The Dragon Cultist

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It is clear to everyone that the Dragon general means to end this fight quickly and decisively. Given the risks of keeping a drugged dragon on the field, he sacrificed the piece to ensure a smoother transition towards victory. The dragon became a greater liability than it was worth, so he dispatched it and moved on. Now, his attention turns towards the battles, where others continue to fight. He sends out streaking bolts of eldritch magic directly at others, targeting numerous others including the Tavern’s handlers. There are losses among the patrons.

Hand bears down on the dragon, jumping up and driving his magical swords directly into the creature’s skull, felling it in one swoop. He might have had time to prepare another attack, but he spends the limited time he has left dodging the attack from the general, just narrowly getting out of taking a direct hit.

Levhea and Vaddock fight the final Aurak. They are giving all they got, having an evenly matched fight that goes back and forth. They finally get the beast by tricking it into moving directly into the path of one of the eldritch bolts meant for them, effectively defending themselves while getting rid of the problem.

Ghallen redirects a bolt intended for him back onto a dragon kin, resulting in the creature beign torn to shreds.

The patrons manage to drop both the injured Savak battling one and take another down before many of their number are fried. They sustain some heavy losses, dropping their post value to 2 (3.5 with the Bard’s amplification). Those who were hit are not salvageable—the bolts reduced them to withered husks.


  • Kobolds: All defeated!
  • Kapak: All defeated!
  • Dragonkin: 4
  • Dragonkin Cultist: 3
  • Savak: 2
  • Aurak: All defeated!
  • Dragon: All defeated!
  • Leader: 19/20

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The general's black bolts of malice sizzled through the air, leaving black scars on the earth and piles of ash that used to be perfectly functional humans. Iani watched the carnage rain down, and was both relieved and insulted that the hovering monstrosity hadn't included him on his target list. That was probably about to change, though. Hooray and alas. 

Iani retrieved his bow, and double-checked it for damage. He thrummed the string a couple of times to check the tension, then sighed. He didn't see anyone else with a weapon capable of hitting a target floating many feet in the air, which meant he really couldn't afford to fake a crippling injury and find a handy basement to hide in. A shame, too; that really was his best move in situations like this.

He put an arrow to the string, and took careful aim at Floaty McScaleface. He wondered briefly what part of Floaty's body he'd have to injure to turn him into Fally McScaleface. Where was the magic hiding? Was it a ring? Or his boots, maybe? Or that gaudy cape? Or was it just that McScaleface was so full of hot air that he floated like a balloon? The obvious answer would be those wings, but they didn't seem to be flapping. Clearly, they were just shoddy decoys. Probably stylish prosthetics. 

Well, with a lack of anything concrete to go on, the headshot was always a classic.

"This is gonna suck hard for me," he muttered.

Iani released the arrow, aiming right between Floaty's beady little eyes. "Hey asshole! Catch!"

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A single streak rushed towards Crow from the front. It wasn’t exactly, the best manner of targeting him, but it still forced him to take to the skies. Crow leapt into the air, the Crows pulling him upwards as the lightning bolt struck below his feet. Out of then blue, he heard  distant cry coming from his right.

Hey asshole! Catch!

A single arrow flew towards the Dragon leader, and it was sufficient to turn the man away from him. This would be his only chance. He put his hands to his mouth and whistled sharply.

In the sky, the entire dark cloud suddenly appeared to rain down upon Crow. Small black creatures, taking place by his side, until what was once a man gradually began to become bigger and bigger.

The powerful Crow Avatar was six times the size of the dragon leader. As the leader dealt with the arrow, it cawed into his face ferociously. The leader had to turn back to him. The Crow Avatar began to close the distance, flapping its massive wings which made the sand on the ground tremble.

The dragon leader began to raise his palm, a single bolt of black lightning forming within it. Crow built up a powerful energy blast within the mouth of the Avatar, this time amplified by the energy conversion abilities of his spear. And as the leader hurled his ball of lightning, Crow sent his energy ball spiralling towards his face. The blow would implode on the leader’s face, incinerating him to bits it he were but a mere mortal. But something told Crow that it wouldn’t be be the case.

As the dust from his blow began to clear, the leader stepped out from the explosion, relatively unscathed, still clasping the unused lightning bolt within his palms. So he hadn’t really thrown it? He must’ve faked a throw to trick Crow into using up his counterattack options! But by now, it was much too late. The dragon leader hurled the bolt towards the absolute middle of Crow’s Avatar. And at the range that they were at, dodging would be near impossible. Crow attempted to pull his massive form out of the way, but in vain. The bolt struck his form, instantly combusting in a bright flash of light, and an explosion that rocked the surrounding landscape. All that one could hear, was the shrieking of hundreds of birds being fried to death alive by the heat.

When the dust cleared, there was no sign of the ranger, or his birds. Not even a piece of bone or strip of clothing survived the blast.

(5 to the leader)

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Timothy jumped up and slashed the dragon kin across its chest, making it tumble onto the red dirt. Timothy sat down, looking for a place to scout the area for another enemy. He closed his eyes for once, the bits of dirt covering his face and body getting into the eyes. Timothy found a nice spot: a little forested area that had a hill. He held his wounded arm, moving closer to his destination. He arrived to find a nice trench, suitable for cover. Timothy slowed his pace, glad to find a safe spot to scout. However, he was not safe.

The black bolts struck the ground very fast, causing multiple explosions around Timothy. The trees exploded, causing bits of bark and wood to fly every way. The ground was dotted with holes, forcing dirt to fly into the air. Timothy was covered with blood, dirt, and wood splinters. He limped towards the trench, heading into it. A corpse spattered with debris lay there, dead from a past battle. Timothy tried to move into a safer position, but his body was aching from wounds. He lay on the ground, just as a tree fell over the trench.

Timothy sighed a breath of relief, but the bolts of black still were bombarding the area. The explosions deafened Timothy; the explosions and bolts were silent now. This is way Timothy didn't realize that half of his leg was destroyed into bits, only hanging onto his thigh by a few nerves and flesh, until he felt the pain. Timothy's breath increased quickly, making his heart pump more blood out of his leg. Timothy faced his death; it was just after the blast ceased in which he died of blood loss.

 

(1 dragon kin defeated)

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Bella rushed out to find the ongoing battle. She haven't been to the tavern very long, but felt a sense of bonding with everyone there, even if she didn't know them. She looked at her injured and dead allies around her and felt anger. The first battle in her life is about to begin.....

She flew into the air, towards the nearest enemy, a Savak. She called to the forces of nature to help her. She dodged her foe's Glaive swing, and scattered poison onto it. Part of the powder was absorbed by the Savak's armor and skin, but it shrieked as toxic penetrated it's skin into its body. The Savak, enraged, charged towards her, it's Glaive drawing a deadly arc in the air. She was exhausted but knew she can't stop now. She flew out of the way just in time as the Glaive passed through where she were just a second before. She noticed her opponent getting weaker, however, she realized that her power alone was not enough. The poison did some damage, but was no match for the opponent. She, extremely tired, flew towards her allies, calling for help.

 

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OOC: Apologies for missing the last couple days. Classes started back up.


The general flicks his eyes towards the offending arrow, a slight grin parting his lips. He bats away the incoming missile without flair, deflecting it to the side, laughing at the effort. The intended effect, a distraction, does prove to take root. He fails to see the incoming ranger, directing all his magic into one fearsome attack. Too late, he throws his arms up in front of himself, bracing against the blast. When the smoke clears, to the dismay of others, the general remains, but his clothes do sport new tears and tatters. His eyes glow a fearsome red. A big attack will soon be coming. 

Hand now has his sights set on the leader as well. He lifts up his blades and goes running towards the man, having his path blocked by a cultist. He drives both his swords into the beast's chest, lifting it off the ground and throwing it close to a dozen feet away. He continues on for the leader. 

Levhea and Vaddock  also start making their way to face the leader. A savak, the one not locked in combat with someone else, tries to step in their way. There is a furious attack between both sides, but the married couple ultimately overcome the beast and even have time to start preparing for dealing with the leader soon. (+.5 to Vaddock post next round)

Ghallen  is fighting a dragon kin. He weakens the creature, but the finishing blow is delivered by a patron. 

The rest of the patrons all team up on another cultist. They put it down after an effort. 

The Bard, who has not contributed in some time, throws out a song that weaves strange magic, causing the enemies all to feel like they were hit by a burst of force. They all take 1 post worth of damage. 


  • Kobolds: All defeated!
  • Kapak: All defeated!
  • Dragonkin: 1/2, 1/2
  • Dragonkin Cultist: 2/3
  • Savak: 1.5/4
  • Aurak: All defeated!
  • Dragon: All defeated!
  • Leader: 11.5/20

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Carol stepped out of the tavern, and looked for the first time, at the battlefield. She was quite horrified at the destruction of the land, with buildings toppled to rubble and holes that littered the ground. There was almost no one in sight, Carol assumed that the front lines had moved further up. She surveyed the area for anyone that was left from the corpses that were scattered around the dirt. Bodies friendly and not, were sprawled across, covered with dirt and dried blood. A few of them had familiar faces, which was almost too much for Carol to bear. She had been through 4 wars already, but she still wasn't prepared for this level of damage. She took out her Luger, and clenched it in her hand.

A faint scream for help drew Carol towards a body. She arrived, taking in the scene. It was a large man, who looked very pale. Carol immediately recognized the wound: an obliterated arm and a ruined foot. She kneeled before him, calming him down. She opened her bag and took out a container of powder. She sprinkled the sulfa powder onto the man's wounds, one of the first things she was taught to do. Carol took out a small little bag of plasma and attached an IV drip to the man. The red fluid provided the man with some extra blood, entering through his arm. Carol held the bag up above the man as she took out a syringe of Morphine. She injected the man with it to ease the pain. 

"Ok, hold this up high and don't let anyone break through it. Just stay right here until I get some help." Carol handed the bag to the man, and stood up.

She faced directly towards a nasty looking dragon kin, who was slowly limping towards the man. It lifted up its spear slowly, pointing towards the man's chest. Carol breathed in, suddenly feeling the butterflies flutter in her stomach. She held up her Luger, and pressed the trigger, discharging the gun. Within a second, the dragon kin was on the ground with a hole in its chest. Carol lowered her firearm, a remembrance of the last war she was in. She hurried towards the tavern to get some help.

Edited by Pickled

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Bella was still shaken up about the last fight. She wasn't hurt, but came close to it. She had never done something so brave and risky before.

Just then, she saw an injured dragonkin charging towards her. The other dragonkins seems to have been defeated, this one the only one left. She scattered poisonous particles at it just as it took off to the air, aiming for her, its spear raised. She took off and dodged out of the way, but not before the opponent's spear scratched against her left leg. Poisonous liquid oozed from her wound. It wasn't a big wound, thankfully, but she winced at the pain, losing her balance. The dragonkin advanced.

Just as it was about to strike, it made a gasping sound and fell to the ground, finally succumbing to her poison. The last dragonkin went down.

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Though the general refuses to see it, this war is swiftly approaching the end. Though the allies have lost many of their numbers, the enemy has suffered most. Nevertheless, the general lets out a feral scream, and black laced bolts of magic spread through the battlefield. Before its effect, the allies attack.

Hand encounters yet another cultist who tries to block his path. He rips through this one with a dance of blades, leaving behind pieces of the religious soldier. Hand still has enough time during his trip to start pooling shadow magic to his side (+1 to next post).

Levhea and Vaddock happen to be passing the abandoned Savak, who is still trying to chase after the newcomer to the battle. They take a moment to cut down the creature, taking up 1.5 of their 5 post value this turn (.5 carry over from the last). They get themselves up beside Hand, ready to take the general down (+3 to next post)

Ghallen can see that something bad is coming. He boosts everyone on the battlefield with a magical effect that grants partial resistance to dark magic and boosts their health.

The patrons were on their way to attack the leader, when he unleashed his attack…

The leader blasts out leeching magic, hitting everyone involved—there is no dodging the attack, as it sweeps through without missing a square inch of the field. Fortunately, Ghallen’s magic has offset some of the effect, making it a little less lethal, and a little less sapping. Nevertheless, the patrons are knocked off their feet, with half their numbers succumbing to their injuries. Their post value in the next round is 1.

The attack wipes out the effect of the Bard’s magic, returning everyone to base posting value. The magic returns to the leader, healing him of some of his wounds.

Ghallen starts preparing another boost spell, so that on the next turn,

On the next round, the combined powers of everyone working together from the Tavern will add up to 14. If four people attack, this ends!


  • Kobolds: All defeated!
  • Kapak: All defeated!
  • Dragonkin: All defeated!
  • Dragonkin Cultist: All defeated!
  • Savak: All defeated!
  • Aurak: All defeated!
  • Dragon: All defeated!
  • Leader: 18/20

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(OOC: The previous post was finished in the Tavern of Legend thread. Carol is now back on the battlefield.)

Carol ran from the tavern, eager to get back onto the battlefield to help people. She rushes to the front lines to get to the leader, who she soon found out was the only one left fighting. She jumped over holes and obstacles, and went further to the crowded area of battle. Everyone was focused on the general, trying to attack him. Carol went around the area, looking for anyone that was wounded. She found no one, until the main attack came. 

Carol was forced off of her legs, tumbling to the ground. She felt suddenly weak, drained of her power. She tried to stand up, but failed in doing so. She could barely move her arm, which is why it took her so long to reach her bag. She opened it up, and searched for one of her energy pills. Carol found one, a small little white pill with the inscription SFA. She quickly popped it into her mouth, and got enough strength to get up. She went looking for others that fell, and found a few that had died.

One was screaming for help, clearly damaged from the blast. He looked extremely pale, and sweating pools of sweat. Carol took out another pale and administered it to him, the most she could do to help him. Her resources were diminished since the start of the battle; Carol only had one more syringe of morphine, one roll of gauze, one bag of plasma, and one canister of sulfa. Her mixed herbs were rather untouched, and she had plenty of assorted bandages. She continued looking for more survivors, but couldn't see any in the dark, smoky and foggy atmosphere. She wandered around aimlessly until she found someone.

Not an ally, however.

It was the general, standing proudly in front of her. Carol knew she was no match for him. She gripped her pistol, making sure everything was good to go. Carol quickly hid behind some rubble, which would not be sufficient for long. She looked around but saw no one else. She breathed in, hoping that she would be able to get out of the battle alive. 

Carol stood up from her cover, and aimed at the general. She fired 3 shots, each creating a loud discharge. Carol quickly ran for some better cover, and dove down into a nearby foxhole. She crouched down and hoped that the shots hit the leader. She consumed her last pill, and pointed her Luger up, anticipating any attack.

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The crippled dragon-kin Iani knew as "Steve" made feeble kicking motions, intent on dislodging the pygmy goat munching on his pants leg.

"Grr!" Groaned Steve.

"Naaa," replied Crucible.

A dark word of power boomed out of the sky and their mortal conflict paused briefly as both turned to seek it's source. They watched helplessly as the black wave of sucking death bore down on them. Two pairs of eyes widened at the sight of approaching doom. Crucible took off at a sprint, leaving Steve to his gruesome fate - to be finished off by his own general. The goat's parting bleat of apology was the last thing Steve heard before the last of his life force was siphoned to empower his cruel leader.

Crucible was fast, even for a pygmy goat, but the dark power was gaining on him quickly. Such a small animal had no chance, even with the priest's warding, to survive such an encounter.

****

Across the field, Iani let out a startled curse as he saw his friend being run down by the malevolent energy. He took off in a sprint towards Crucible, closing the gap with the speed of a terrified big cat. At the last moment he made a flying leap, tucking Crucible beneath him as he rolled into the darkness.

The wave past over the pair, and for a moment, all was still. Iani's clothes smoked and his fur was scorched. Neither cat nor goat moved for many long seconds.

With a pained cough, Iani carefully got to his feet. His trembling hands held his friend, who let out a soft, frightened "Baa". 

Iani's eyes smoldered along with his coat as he glared at the floating general. He said nothing as he gently placed Crucible on the ground and walked over to where he dropped his bow. He picked it up, wiped off the grime, and silently put an arrow to the string.

Iani aimed high, sending arrow after arrow arcing up in front of the general. As each arrow rose into the sky, it multiplied itself fivefold, until the ground was dark under the shadow of the flying munitions.

The first group hit the Apex of their flight, and turned to begin their journey back to earth. Unfortunately, Floaty McScaleface was between them and that goal.

Hundreds of arrows, magically multiplying even still, fell out of the sky and rained down on the evil general. Iani continued to launch them upwards, shifting his aim slightly each time to create a growing, inescapable circle of falling death.

Catch, asshole.

 

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With the arrows still falling, the enraged Iani switched tactics; the panther-kin began a loping strafe around the General, firing direct shots with poisoned arrows every few steps. Each arrow split into three midflight, to cover a wider area though it cost them a bit of their penetrative power. 

A low growl could be heard coming from his throat, but the stream of narration and wise-cracks was gone. Adrenaline helped him keep the pace for now, but his fur still smoldered from the General's attack and a slight limp could be detected on his right if anyone was looking closely enough. He'd feel it in the morning, for sure.

Floaty McScaleface was learning the number one rule of gentlemanly warfare the hard way: goats are always non-combatants.

Edited by Raspberry LA

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Upon the hillside, a stubby dwarf came charging into the fray.

"Hold yer horses! Where is that son of a bitch Crow?! He ain't paid his bets, and he owes me big time!"

It was only at this moment that the dwarf noticed all the chaotic shit going on across the battlefield.

Corpses, bodies, lightning bolts, and a single asshole who threw them bolts.

Mother fucker!

Was this the 'situation' that had forced Crow to dip? If so, he was going to get his money back, one way or another.

Without further consideration, he rushed the Leader angrily.

Dodging lightning bolts in his drunken haze, he was absolutely untouched, somehow guided and protected by Murphy's Law.

Still hiccuping as he swayed towards his foe, he came within mere feet, closing the distance at a dangerous speed.

At last, he faced down the leader, throwing himself into his face.

He pulled out his wooden club and slammed it into the man's nose.

If this powerful blow did not immediately fracture the skull of his adversary, sending him into a permanent coma, it would most definitely give him one hell of a nosebleed!

Edited by Aves

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It was of the darkest days

The battlefield was shrouded with haze

The moon rose up from the bleak horizon

The ground was scattered with the land's kin

A brave healer, of another world

Stepped forward out, being bold

She faced the leader

In a great show of theatre

She raised her pistol

And it being dull

Sucked up the light around its foil

She discharged her arm

Creating a toil

Which was one that would harm

The one that stood before her

The general that would infer

His consequence of his attempt to deter

Edited by Pickled

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Glad we got the posts to do this now! Was trying to hold out until it could go all in one swoop.


Carol the healer fires three shots at the emboldened leader, who seems to deflect them away with little thought. [17/20]

Iani launches a barrage of arrows towards the nasty cult leader. He sends fountains of black flames into the air, disintegrating the arrows well before they come into reach. [16/20]

Hand brings forth a giant bolt of shadow magic and sends it directly for the leader. It blasts into an invisible shield surrounding the man, sending shockwaves out in all directions. Hand is nearly dropped to his knees, but he keeps pushing [12/20]

Vaddock unleashes a barrage of magical attacks against the man's shield, as the patrons and Levhea attempt to get within striking range. Despite their best efforts, he sends them hurtling away with a blast from a breath weapon much like the dragon's had. [2/20]

Iani attempts to flank the dragon man, but he too picks up on this, turning about and sending a wave of flames to keep her away. She can tell his magic is fading because the man looks worried.  [1/20]

Enter the dwarf.

The drunk, stumbling dwarf, blessed with more luck than he could ever realize, manages to cross a field of injured and dying enemies from both sides without losing his footing badly enough to stay his attack. Further, he comes upon the leader just as the man is dealing with yet another distraction. The general's magic fails just in time for the Dwarf to bring down his wooden club right on the man's nose, with no magical warding to stop the blow. It shatters, spraying blood in all directions, and while questionable if enough to have actually permanently felled him, the added stimulation makes the man oblivious to the final bullet that sinks between his eyes, shot by Carol. Once again, the dwarf is blessed by luck, in that his stature makes him so much lower than than the man that she had a clean shot for his now mashed up face. 

The leader drops to the ground, and the war is one. 


Congratulations!

Event 3 is complete. A new season of the tavern will soon be going up. 

What does a new season entail? Some changes of course. 

There will be new quests, related to this event, that will be available as one time options and only good during the new season of the tavern. 

Also, new NPCs!

  • The Bard: The bard is here to stay for a while, having returned to his roots at the Tavern to play for the patrons and maintain his presence for at least the following season. Keep an eye out for his details. 
  • A Surprise: There is a surprise additional NPC due to the events of this thread--stay tuned to find out what!

So, what's next?

When I get a chance to write the new season post, that will go up at the same time as I write a post in the old season to reconcile the beginning of this thread to the end of Season 2. It will merge the start of this thread to the end of current activities in the old one. With the start of the new thread, everything continues from a set amount of time after the events of this thread (it can be anywwhere from a week to a month in tavern time). 

Season 3 lasts until I do the next event. In an ideal world, I'll do one in March. We'll see. >>

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