Gordian Nought

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Zverda Anala Attor

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With the battle done and the monstrosity wonderfully liquified on the inside oozing out, she deemed it necessary to at least go down and greet those she had fought with, even if it was brief. "Come Sebastian," she said, "Let us go greet our temporary allies, maybe we can make them permanent ones. It could not hurt to see if their goals align with our own."

Nudging Rogath, she turned her horse around and began to head down the path that would lead her to the group that had just taken down the dire wolves. After a minute or two of riding, she came across the group just as their guide seemed to be ready to try and move them along. "Hello strangers," she said with a smile, the hood of her riding cloak resting back so her face was in full view. Her garb was a bit extravagant for riding leathers, the right shoulder appearing to have light blue crystalline objects following along the neckline across the back and to the other shoulder, though as she moved, they swayed. It was a strange way to work fabric and the like, but it gave the desired effect of her pale skin seeming far more paler allowing the blue tattoos she had to stand out even more.

"What brings you to these dangerous parts?" she asked, eyes scanning each person in turn with a hint of curiosity and maybe a drop of judgement.

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@Hekazu The Unnamable

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It was over. The most distressing of moments had passed without much of an incident, if only because of the air near the gate refused to carry over the howl one's eyes could see take place clear as day. Before any of the people within the merciful bubble had the chance to act however, those outside of it did annihilate the creature in short order. George was raised against the man's chest over his heart while the other hand that did not carry the item brushed into the puppet's hair. With the silence not quite yet over, the man sighed with inaudible breath, his hand ruffling the strands on the puppet's head.

The horse had been turned around and the group was preparing to approach the gates once again when the newcomer from the cliff approached them from the side. The purple-eyed man blinked a few times, as if unsure what he was seeing was quite correct. It could not be... George would be raised from the chest back into the air, the puppet's arms flopping lazily to its sides as its lifeless eyes drilled into the approaching person. "She has the look, doesn't she George?" the puppeteer asked of the doll, seemingly ignoring the question asked by the approaching woman.

There was a brief silence, after which George was jerked around for the doll's eyes to meet the purple pair once again. "No George, we do not say such things!" the puppeteer shouted at his only companion that was composed of fabric. But it was not long after before the doll was pressed against the man's heart again, and his left arm wrapped around it protectively. The man's eyes, however, still lingered on the newcomer's face.

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Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Gordian Nought Mhyrienne – The Mildly Suspicious

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The ravens remained.

They gawked and hooted, despite the unveiled monstrosity’s frenzied scream harmonizing with the apparent chaos all around. The trees’ fowl instead embraced the branches as bleachers, leaning and flapping, eager to witness on the feverish spectacle. The whistles swelled in cheer, unbeknownst to those below, for which team the rooting crescendos intended.

It was odd to Mhyrienne.

No matter. There was no more time to waste.

Her fingers soon writhed into recursive sadistic smiles, curdling onto a magical couplet, like chopped kindling amidst the beginning of an unquenchable fire. The palmed Eldritch crusade quickly wrought onto a congealed angst, prophetic in pain and practice, then lobbed upon the Howler’s discarded flesh. With the following snap of her downward thumb, an additional curse whispered upon the wailing beast, vexing another insult to injury.

Before her eyes could enjoy the fermented torment, she ferried away from the fallen hounds strewn all about her, byproducts of the prior ambush gone sour. The elf soon met the reckless safety of the brush crawling slothfully along the crags of the circumscribing cliff-side, hugging and cuddling the jagged precipice which earlier held the mysterious mage, above hurling bolts of fire.

Friend or foe? The angle would prohibit the warlock from being such an easy target, if the enemy indeed also had higher ground.

Mechanics

Mhyrienne casts Agonizing Blast and Hex on the Howler (14 damage total), targeting Wisdom. She moves into ½ cover, obscured by the surrounding foliage.

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@Zverda Anala Attor

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The sound of the howler's voice set the woman and her horse on edge, Rogath prancing slightly as if he was getting ready to bolt, but she patted the horse into stillness. "ithquent di marfedelom, si, dout ibleua katima relgric ekik ekess wux. majak ve wer vers ekess svent nomeno irlym." the figure called out, the movement of her arms arcing into a circle as a dark green orb appeared before her, the gem upon her throat resonating with a matching color.

With an almost comically small push, the orb sped towards the Howler, enveloping it in its swirling mass before winking out of existence. At first, it seemed as if her spell had done nothing, but then the monstrosity began to howl in agony. There were no visible signs of what was happening at first, the beast left to writhe on the ground before it began to foam at the mouth, the color black and foul smelling.

In the Howler's last moments of life, it let out a howl that was soon cut off by a rather violent spray of blood from its mouth, buts of liquefied organs mixed in with the naturally grainy texture. Sadly, it seemed that Egil and Talran were given the express honor of wearing what was being evacuated from the creatures body, the smell horrendous and the texture like coffee grounds left out to rot.

Back up on the cliff, the manservant was still standing next to his Master, offering their tea cup back to them yet again. "Well done M'Lady," he said with a nod of his balding head, "What a spectacular finish. Not as explosive as your usual methods, but still messy."

End of Combat - Mhyrienne and Anala

Anala rolls w/ disadvantage (due to failed Wisdom Saving Throw), lowest being a 16. Casts Poisoned Chromatic Orb at the Howler and removes it's remaining HP with a spectacular 23 damage... it proceeds to have its organs liquefied and spewed on those unlucky enough to be close by.

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@BCTheEntity Talran Galelove – Medium Friendly Paladin

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For a moment, Talran rather felt that the woman he'd made efforts to assist had squandered those efforts. Not that she didn't act in self-defense - she dodged the attacks of the wolf assailing her most gracefully indeed, in fact. Only... well, it wasn't worth lambasting a person for what they did, even internally, and especially in a highly-stressful situation such as a fight. What mattered was that he kept helping those who needed it most - which was again the elven woman.

With a valiant war cry, he had his steed charge round her, and with a mighty blow struck down the wolf as it was distracted with assailing her. With that matter settled, Talran quickly uttered 'Stay alert - worse is yet to come,' before wheeling about and rushing the remaining dire wolf, less with the intent of trying to finish it off, and more to protect Egil when it inevitably decided to try and destroy him in this foul, mutated state it had acquired for itself. By whatever means.

Mechanics

Talran moves 15 feet to Mhyrienne's left, rolls a 19 to hit Dire Wolf 4 and a 10 to damage it (more than sufficient to knock it unconscious), then moves another 30 feet out of his remaining 35 this round to reach Egil, ready to use his Fighting Style to impose disadvantage on any attacks Dire Wolf 1 makes against him or whoever else moves next to Talran. His mount takes the Dodge action again. Round 3 of 10 for Mhyrienne, Markus, and Zaerith's Blessings.

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@Gordian Nought Egil

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The stolen edge of the fighter struck the dissolving hound; as a Krakatoan creature, flesh resurrected with riddled stitches and spinal column meshed with charred bones. The titan’s bleeding throat dripped an amnesia of fear, behooving stained fragments of an experiment interdimensional past. Its extinctional existence begot a miscarriage of memories, forged of a former existence, recompensed in full fury before Talran and Egil, now echoing the possibility of disaster which had befallen a myriad of prey before and beyond the grave.

The Vistani gazed, in silence, at the Howler, comprehending all too well the mind-numbing screech which flooded its victims. The disoriented thoughts would chatter like mischievous monkeys, prattling upon the purpose of this Kreskovian leviathan, affronting their escape. Its scarlet wreathes stared into the paladin’s soul, issuing taxes of despair.

After a reflexive gulp, the muddy behemoth tampered with the surrounding inky air eroding the atmosphere, with murky concentration, harnessing a dénouement the duo would wish not to spectate firsthand.

The beast immediately mocked them.

Yet, it was peculiar and familiar? A brief verbal swine of forsaken screams soon coalesced to generate a scorned cacophony of laughter, not from a singularity, but, as if, its war cry originated from the bellows of suffering children.

Each ridiculed its voice, with demented tidal waves of an acoustic sea of heretical mirth. The whispers eventually corroborated into corporeality before the respective warrior and knight, soon assembling into blaring rank as a hissing barb, protecting its morbid parent.

An empty promise filled an unspoken niche within the ranger’s heart he had not previously entertained since they left Starovir.

Jealousy was no longer a green-eyed monster.

Mechanics

Egil attacks the Alpha Wolf. The Howler within emerges with an ear shattering squeal. Those not in the Silence originating from George must make a Wisdom Saving Throw.

Round 4 - Talran and Egil

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Hekazu The Unnamable

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What was this feeling that the howl carried with it? It was not something one could quite place their finger on, but it was the herald of trouble to come. Until the odd melting transformation of sorts attempted to begin. It appeared yet contained, but only just. It might be wise to stop it, if something of the sort would indeed be possible... But George had a point just as well. One could not strain their mind indefinitely. To blacken it again like paper in fire would be most unwise. The perversion of one's studies should not be performed until as a last resort.

And a perversion the wolf was. Yet perhaps one could avoid the full despicability of it by not allowing it aid in the completion of its unnatural metamorphosis? After all, wolves were not insects, not creatures that would cocoon themselves, not ones to bloom in moths or other winged creatures. No, they were not intended for such a life, and if one avoided giving them the chance to follow this abhorrent second nature, perhaps they could avoid bringing it forth in the entirety?

And thus, the attention of the doll and its handler were turned to the one last remaining wolf that exhibited no signs of such unnatural twisting of the very nature of life. The barbarous mind of the animal would be the target of the first assault it had seen, but the same could hardly be said for the assailing party. The strike was brought into being through will and will alone, and it would seek the dire canine.

Mechanics

The Unnamable has his horse Dodge once again as he fires a Mind Thrust (120 feet range) at Dire Wolf 4. The attack roll came up as a 10 and on a hit the attack will deal 10 damage.

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@Gordian Nought Markus

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The alpha shook off more of its thawing sinew, whilst whirling and shooting its companion a convoluted squint fashioned of a dangling zygomatic arch and a receding eyeless orbit. The lesser wolf comprehended, somehow, swiftly attacking, with and without fail, the nearest erect and still standing morsel. The snarling bite, however lacked permission, unrated by the nimble elf, fleeting further from Mhyrienne than the prior assaults on the pack’s leader. Naivety somehow sprouted amidst the party’s strikes, yielding forgone opportunities and deficient graces against the crumbling beast.

The remnant pair. All against the seven. An unparalleled number, quilted of luck and destiny. Yet, the odds were still and always in Barovia’s fervent favor.

The Vistani understood this and now the bleeding monstrosity’s wounds clearly more than ever. Its slimy silhouette becoming more paramount than the epileptic howl.

His unsheathed hand hurriedly lifted away to George’s side, transitioning an open palm to a clenched fist, as Markus thrust the opposite grip on the electric blade into the air. The spectacle charged, worthy of knighting the quiet figurine beheld in the handler’s lap, elegantly polished by the gypsy’s following command:

“Into the silence.”

At this focused beck, amongst the paradoxical unheard verdict, the guide’s warnings and disclaimers soon fell on unperceiving ears, pouncing against an invisible barrier which gestured an absolute taciturnity.

Mechanics

Dire Wolf 1 attacks/misses Egil. Dire Wolf passes its Death Save. Dire Wolf 3 and 5 fail their Death Save. Dire Wolf 4 attacks/misses Mhyrienne. Markus casts Silence (requires Concentration) on George.

Round 4 - The Unnamable, Dire Wolves and Markus

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@JohnSolaris Zaerith Dustborn

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Another one joins the fight, flinging an impressive array of energy bolts from atop a cliff and dealing significant damage to the wolves below. But Zaerith does not spare more than a brief glance; there will be more chances for introductions after they’ve neutralized those deadly predators.

Speaking of deadly predators… The one with red eyes lets out an unsettling howl rather unlike the rest of its kin, and something beneath its skin crawls. What in the name of Rovagug’s rear exhaust pipe? Zaerith frowns. Don’t tell me that thing is actually a construct piloted by a-

No, no, he cannot afford to get distracted. Whatever this thing is, it’s trouble. But transforming is not a free action, so while the beast is busy perhaps he can-

Whoosh.

The beast moves with unnatural speed, evading Zaerith’s attack despite being flanked by the fighter on its opposite. Under his breath Zaerith cannot help but to curse. This body, still so much weaker than what he is used to… Can he possibly hope to face Strahd von Zarovich like this? No, that is a silly question. Will his strength recover enough, if he will even have the opportunity to confront the blood-sucking Darklord?

What are you afraid of? The Jester whispers in his ears, the voice like a sickly sweet poison. You cannot die. You have all the time in the world to try, and try, and try again, until you fulfill your purpose. I have made sure of that.

For a moment Zaerith wonders why it even matters. He can simply lie down and allow the wolves to devour him, pick his bones clean… Not like that has stopped him in the past. But no, that will have him lose time, precious time that he can otherwise spend to get closer to his goal, his salvation, his release.

The guide wanted him to get closer to the man with a puppet, so Zaerith obliges. Perhaps it will be safer to keep his distance from the morphing alpha wolf after all.

Mechanics

Zaerith tries to attack dire wolf 1 with flanking advantage from Egil and +1d4 due to Bless from Talran, but still misses because the RNG is a fucking rigged piece of shit. He then has his buggy horse Disengage to avoid AoOs from Dire Wolf 1, before moving up six grids to end at the Unnamable's right side.

Round 3 - Mhyrienne, Anala and Zaerith

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Lady Selune Mhyrienne – The Mildly Suspicious

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Damn these wolves! It was rare she had seen a creature withstand a single one of her bolts and survive, let alone withstand a bolt and not even flinch. Squeezing the flanks of her strange steed, she looked at the wolf that... Honestly, could be classified as more raw meat, and closed her eyes. A heartbeat passed, and she hooked a thumb into a throwing knife at her belt.

In one smooth motion, she flicked her hand up and sent the dagger spinning towards the wolf... Only for it to miss and harmlessly bounce off the dirt a foot and a half away from the creature. What was wrong with her today? First the bolts, then the dagger. She scowled inwardly. She would need that dagger back, and made a mental note as to where it was.

Mechanics

Mhyrienne fucking misses a dagger because the dice gods hate her.

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@Zverda Anala Attor

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The howl of the wolf seemed poorly timed indeed as the figure above attempted to strike down the noisy beast with a bolt of fire. As she readied herself, a bow of flame in her hand, Rogath let out a noise of ill content and began to prance a bit as his ears pinned back against his head. "Rogath, what are you doing?" she hissed between clenched teeth as she lost her grip on the arrow and watched as it sailed over the wolf and landed harmlessly behind it before disappearing in a plume of dark smoke, "I was so close, what are you doing prancing around like this?"

Mechanics

Tried to Firebolt a Wolf... horsey got unhappy with the howl and made it miss. Sad sad day to get an eight on an attack roll wouldn't you say?

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@BCTheEntity Talran Galelove – Medium Friendly Paladin

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Tenacious beasts, these. And plenty dangerous enough to harm his companions - though they largely missed their opportunity to wound, one did succeed in injuring the elven lady to one side of him, though only after the dramatic arrival of a newcomer to the fray. Another spellcaster, as it happened. With three people now explicitly aiming to strike down the apparent pack leader, Talran felt safe in coming to her aid, though rather than explicitly forcing his protection upon her, he wondered at a different, more flexible tactic - moving around the body of the recently-defeated wolf, he had his steed hurry to the opposite side of the wolf nearest its leader, and struck out at its flank, hoping to inflict the blow that would end its threat against the less physically-capable fighter, or if not, giving her ample opportunity to do so in her own right. In doing this, he reckoned he'd be in prime position to rush to the aid of whoever else required it as appropriate.

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@Gordian Nought Egil

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The alpha teased by his younger brother’s yelp with expiry notes of murder as the paladin purchased his target with steel. Drawing low to high once more with his gesturing hand, Egil tugged on the reins to maneuver upon the elder wolf’s flank. Then the outstretched blade, where it glinted delicately in the subdued Barovian light, struck the monstrosity, with the flat of his sword, hoping to bluntly conquer the crazed animal. Its arrival upon the writhing form of a hound, coating it briefly in its own bloody rime, left the atrocity standing.

Melting.

As if the hide promised to erupt soon from a Vesuvius center.

Mechanics

Talran rides around to the backside of Dire Wolf 3, positioning himself directly on its opposite side compared to Mhyrienne in order to flank it, then uses his action to attack it with advantage. His attack roll is 15, and the damage on hit is 7. His mount will once again use the Dodge action, as neither Talran nor steed inflict an AoO simply by moving around within its reach.

Egil rolls a natural 20, but deals only 4 damage. The alpha is becoming slowly unrecognizable.

Round 3 - Talran and Egil

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Hekazu The Unnamable

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One of the wolves rushed the man that had invoked feelings so unfamiliar to the predator within the confines of its head, though it did not deem its rush important enough to risk taking a blade or two in its side. Natural instincts had to guide it well, no two ways about it. But what its carefulness meant for it was another problem on its own: It could not reach the aggressor whom it sought. And there was a single fatal flaw in that... what if the creature suddenly changed its mind on approaching?

But before the slowing down of the red eyed beast, the attention of the soul near the gates was brought to the arrival of yet another person, them joining the fight with a spell whose kind had not been witnessed by the mind behind the purple eyes. Whatever it was, the effects were abundantly clear, the wolves the energy struck being harmed with a force most erratic in its behavior. Something to commit to memory.

But that was not something one could allow themselves to get lost in, especially not so if a large slavering beast was on their way to rend their flesh! Pulling the images from the invoker's experience, horror and disgust wracked the subconscious of the approaching animal. It was time it ceased, heeled, and went on its way.

Mechanics

The mount is ordered to Dodge, no movement is taken. For his own action, The Unnamable invokes the power of Eye of Horror, spending two Psi on the Crown of Disgust discipline. Dire Wolf 1 must make a Charisma saving throw against his DC of 13 or take 7 psychic damage and be rendered incapable of moving closer to the Unnamable until the end of its next turn. On a successful save, the damage is halved.

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@Gordian Nought Markus

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The alpha groaned in efforts to ward off the cranial entry of the majestic figurine and its subservient ventriloquist into its guarded cerebral sepulcher. With a twinge and a swing, the hound whipped around once more, now primed upon the scent, again, of the Vistani. For one with such deadly eagerness to vantage this particular man’s innards, the crazed bite landed erroneously right, endorsing a hamartia of sorts.

It recompensed with a melodic howl, unusually engorged with a melding of hatred, hunger and harmony. For not swallowing its prey.

Markus scoffed upon the ever palpable pooch, mocking it with his balding scalp as he tilted downward and dedicated a farewell toast but with an electric flourish. The quilted shriek of the crimson eyed fiend evolved hurriedly into a shriller wail, lavished with banshee undertones. The gypsy nose jutted out above a curvy smirk, etching like a stovepipe bent, crooked, funneling smoky wisps of air, to and fro, only for the last swipe to miscue.

However, he too, like George, was ignoring the titanic iceberg beneath the unforgiving ocean.

Without missing an interrupted desecration, the other singed wolves, yelping from fiery meteors belting from the whistling forest, began to swarm the warlock, whose earlier evident magic scorched one of their brethren. The mongrels’ gaped maws rapidly widened into huge bottomless catacombs hoping to bury pulp between their whetted gravestones of teeth. One of the duo unfortunately and quickly spalted Mhyrienne with a rending of her flesh, conjuring a solicited gash upon the elf.

More Mechanics

Dire Wolf 1 retreats and attacks/misses Markus. Dire Wolf 3 will attack/miss Mhyrienne. Dire Wolf 4 attacks with Advantage against Mhyrienne and deals 7 damage. Dire Wolves 5 and 2 fail their Death Saves. Markus strikes twice against the Dire Wolf 1 and injuring it only once/dealing 8 damage.

Round 3 - The Unnamable, Dire Wolves and Markus

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@JohnSolaris Zaerith Dustborn

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Zaerith feels a wave of magic wash over him, coinciding with the armored pale man’s gestures. He is reasonably sure that it is divine in nature, and beneficial to him, but this is no time to ponder the spell’s exact properties in the heat of battle. The group’s guide, having lost his own horse, mounts upon Zaerith’s, which the hooded man silently allows; this is also no time to be picky about close proximity.

One of the wolves appears heavily wounded, likely close to death, in addition to being flanked by the fighter of Zaerith's group. Time to neutralize it as a threat.

Intermittent Mechanics

Zaerith moves diagonally up and right; he and Egil now flank dire wolf 2. He makes a sneak attack using Booming Blade against dire wolf 2, which results in a critical hit, dealing 22 piercing damage. Dire wolf 2 will take 4 thunder damage if it voluntarily moves before the end of Zaerith's next turn.

“Get close to the doll,” Markus says, from his seat behind Zaerith. Perhaps he’s planning something? Regardless, the red-eyed wolf is over there, far away from the rest. It will likely be easier to deal with like this.

More Mechanics

Zaerith makes another move diagonally up and right, costing 2 grids of movement this time. His steed takes the Disengage action to avoid attacks of opportunity, before using what remains of its movement to move up 7 grids.

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@Zverda Anala Attor

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So much noise, how was a lady supposed to enjoy a ride through the land with so much racket and shouting? Not very well, that’s for sure. Letting out a sigh, a woman in rather fine clothing steered her Painted Clydesdale towards a cliff not too far away before coming up about forty feet back and thirty feet forward from the sound of fighting. Tilting her head to the side, she noticed that, while the fight did not seem to be going too poorly for the group, but it did not seem to be going to well in their favor either. She wanted her silence back, that was for sure, and while one of the four dire beasts were dead, there were still three too many still alive. “Well Rogath, time for a little magic on horseback again,” she muttered as she patted her large horse's neck, “Don’t worry boy, we will stay up here until the fight itself is over. I can still fling a few spells their way.”

The horse simply nickered in response, causing the woman to roll her eyes as if she knew what he was saying, “Of course I’m not doing this for them, I just want some silence brought back to what was once a peaceful ride. It’s not my fault they stumbled upon a pack of hungry wolves, now is it?” Letting out a sigh, she shook out her arms and pushed up her sleeves, “Time for a little Chaos.”

With a flourish of hands and a murmur of words in a rough tongue, the woman thrust her arms forward and out to the side. A strong force erupted forward, one beam resembling a green and smokey streak of strange lighting thrusting forward and striking the Third Dire wolf, temporarily enveloping it in a cloud of green smoke. The second beam seemed to be nothing but a ripple in the air streaking towards the fourth Dire Wolf, slamming into the creature and causing it to shake its head and let out a small wine. That did not seem to be all that was happening happening however. As the two wolves were hit, the fourth wolf let out a louder whine of pain as an invisible force seemed to slam into it for a second time, severely injuring it if not managing to kill it outright by pure luck.

As the final beast was hit, the greenish smoke trail that lead back to the one who casted the spell seemed to dissipate on the gentle breeze leaving no trace behind of what had happened. Of course, if one looked up they would be able to see a figure atop a surprisingly large horse looking and old shriveled man standing beside it offering the figure what appeared to be a tea cup as they stared down at the chaos below. While it may have hit the wolves, who was really able to say if they were friend or foe?

Surprise

After using 1 Sorcerer Point, the figure uses Twin Spell on 1st lvl spell Chaos Bolt. DW3 takes a total of 18 Poison Damage, DW4 takes a total of 9 Force Damage and takes an additional 15 Psychic Damage for a total of 24 damage. Due to rolling 2 6’s on the Poison Chaos Bolt, it bounced off DW3 and successfully hit DW4 with a different damage type. ATK rolls were 23 and 20 respectively.

Round 2 - Zaerith and Anala

Ravenloft. Revisited.

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@Lady Selune Mhyrienne – The Mildly Suspicious

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With so many attacking the wolf it seemed folly to end up continuing to attack them. Instead, she would focus her effort on the wolf less injured. It seemed she did indeed need to whirl her mount around, directing it with her knees as she did so. Her hand deftly moved, and her eyes held the faint flicker of magic, the wolf unaware of the curse placed upon it.

Then, she struck again. Her fingers pressed together, another bolt of force lancing out towards her foe. She was going to kill this creature.

Mechanics

Mhyrienne wheels her steed around and ends up two tiles right of Markus, then uses Hexblade's Curse on Dire Wolf 3 as a bonus action before hitting it with another eldritch blast. Attack roll is 24, damage roll is 7.

Round 2 - Mhyrienne