"Something's not right... I mean, more so than one would expect. No sir ree, something wrong about Master Jolly threats here."
Seeing his allies are still a bit dinged, he channels again.
"There, no excuses for failure on our part, we're all fresh as daisies. Though grease and fire make me have concerns"
"I call your bluff, wizard. The grease is not burning, that fireball is an illusion!" Robert cries as he stands ground and throws a Chakram in his direction.
(includes +1 bless and +1 point-blank)
(+1 point-blank)
Eventual sneak attack damage (if wizard flat-footed, though I doubt this counts now)
Noya charges the wizard
Zhu gets to the top of the stairs and, heeding the warning, releases a pair of arcane bolts at the wizard. Even if there is trickery afoot, this villain shall die.
From the front of the group Arma readies her weapon upon seeing the hated wizard. But as she listens to the words he speaks and moves to charge the flames move towards her and she instead braces against them.
Yes, beware that grease there on the floor. And note how the fire seems not to bother it. I suspect it that wet real fire we could feel the heat from it even now. What type of wizard has to resort to parlor tricks to chase off the likes of us.
Kyrax's feet begin to move in a rhythmic pattern as he steps towards the orc and faux wizard. He raises his battle banner to inspire his allies.
"Fool. Never bluster, just kill." With a gesture, Pontia launches an acid dart at the orc.
Not sure if Robert is right but unwilling to see allies go into a melee alone, Mirandix braces himself and follows Noya charging the pair at the end of the hallway.
Note I get a +4 not factored in above against mind affecting effects. Did not add it because I was unsure what the spell was.
As Arma and Noya run up to the fireball, they find their nerve giving out. The heat is real, the stink of brimstone and smoke is real, how could this possibly be an illusion...? Stopping short of the roiling flames, Arma manages to keep her footing on the slippery floor, but Noya's slide out from under her and she falls prone...!
Incredibly, Mirandix charges right through the flames as if they did not exist. To him, it is clear that they don't. Running along, he finds his Elvish elegance allows him to hop and skid along the slick floor as easily as he might run down a flowery meadow.
Steel and sorcery fly ahead of him, each of the projectiles hurled by Pontia and Robert striking Xorshak dead-center! The mighty wizard cries out with surprise and pain!
"Try one of the others!" the Orc at his side urges. "One of the others, hurry!"
The Wizard fumbles with his wands - and then Mirandix is right in front of him, his Elven keenblade dipping deep into his chest. Xorshak looks down on the sword transfixing him, coughs out a bubble of blood...
... and slides off of your blade, nothing left of him now on Golarion but a corpse.
The remaining Orc shrieks, either with anger or with dismay, and hacks at Mirandix with a shortsword!
Too easy...after the power Xorshak showed before, this must be a fake. Pontia addresses the remaining orc. "Your pathetic sham is done, and your life will soon end as well."
Kyrax, light on his feet, dances up through the greased floor and attacks the orc as well.
Arma while not able to move forward does attempt to steel herself to the flames before her. As Mirandix pushes through them and skewers the figure of the hated wizard who is hit by sizzling dart and the whirling chakram.
When Noya falls on the slippery substance Arma kneels so as to offer her aid in getting back up to her feet if she needs it. "Noya, let me help you up!"
She draws her crossbow as well readying it to shoot the orc that is now attacking Mirandix after aiding her ally back to her feet.
As Pontia speaks of the death of what she calls the fake Xorshak she too agrees that it would not be this easy.
As his curved blade comes free of the wizard, Mirandix slices toward with a grunt of pain as the orc's blade strikes true.
"Thanks for the hand.
This Wizard is a tricky bastard."
Noya gets up and again towers over the group with her 7 foot tall height.
Alas, as Kyrax charges up on the fire -- he feels the heat as REAL. His first instinct is to stop, rather than charge into the flames and get hurt...
After raising Noya up Arma remains kneeling and takes aim with her crossbow.
"Gladly Lady Noya. Well this trick of his is rather annoying isn't it."
Looking across the flames Arma concentrates hoping for a clear shot. "Miradix, give a gap when you can!"
Arma will ready her action to fire at the orc should Miradix and the Orc ever be seperated by 5ft or more.
"This Wizard's illusions are no match for the reality of steel and will."
Bydar tests his will against the 'flames' moving by or through them if need be and then trying to unleash a slingstone against the orc.
Noya goes forth, and charges the wizard again
Noya thinks as she charges
"I should be able to get a good strike on him,
I just need to remember what Grandma Bridgette said about casters."
The Orc quails at Pontia's words, and it turns to run towards the end of the corridor and the doors there, gibbering with dread. Mirandix' curveblade, Arma's arrow and Bydar's slingstone all go wide as the enemy starts to run.
Noya charges. The floor seems to shake under the mountainous Aasimar as she breaches the flames, blisters rising on her fair skin. The flames cast gleams from the edge of her katana as she brings it around in a terrible arc. As it passes through the Orc, the orange glow of fire is replaced by the crimson glisten of blood...
... and the Orc falls to the ground in two pieces. For a moment, its fingers scrabble at the floor and its mouth opens and closes as it struggles to draw breath. Then, it is over. It is not long before the fireball fades from existence as well and the slick grease sinks back into the floor.
As these magics vanish, so does Xorshak. Or rather, the appearance of Xorshak! Where the Wizard seemed to lie dead but a moment before, there is now the corpse of another Orc. This one is well-groomed compared to its brothers you already slew, dressed in fine leather armour. The wands it was holding are still there, although one of them appears to be crumbling to dust.
Once you are done with the bodies of the Orcs and whatever other business you have left in this corridor, you can advance to the two doors at the end of the corridor. The one on the left is made of snowy white marble. Set in the centre is a silver indentation with this form. Set on the right is a door made of rough oakwood. Set in the centre is an iron indentation with this form. There are no visible locks - but from behind the oaken door, you can hear a shrill, squeaky voice singing.
The threat having passed, and the fire having gone out, Kezzat scurries forward, and begins to pick over the corpses. She snatches one of the daggers, and gives it a long, appraising look, a wide grin breaking out on her face.
When she hears the faint strains of the song coming from the other side of the wall, her ears twitch, and she looks up.
"Gobbos singing gobbo songs... seems to be a bit in his cups though."
Pontia looks up from her examination of the magic items. "Zhu, it seems best if we each take one of the more combat-oriented wands. Which would you prefer? In addition, I would like to have a few minutes to prepare some new spells before we proceed."
"Lies on top of lies," Bydar says.
Pontia looks up from her examination of the magic items. "Zhu, it seems best if we each take one of the more combat-oriented wands. Which would you prefer? In addition, I would like to have a few minutes to prepare some new spells before we proceed."
I too am an arcane caster Pontia and can use these wands.
"Zhu and I, however, plan to be as far from the thick of things as possible while still contributing. Your place--at least thus far--has been in the midst of the fight, and I would not presume to divide your attention. Given your skills, however, it would be prudent to make sure that you know which of us has the magic missile wand, as there are foes which may be damaged no other way."
Zhu says softly, "A truly mighty strike, Noya! Well done." To Pontia, he replies, "I would prefer the wand that fires the magic missiles. Having that wand would allow me to focus on using the other spells and abilities that I know. Speaking of which..."
He bends down and studies the corpse of the orc that Noya just cleaved. And then Zhu's form changes! He becomes a near-perfect copy of the dead orc. "Do any of you speak the tongue of the orc?" comes Zhu's voice from the orc's mouth. "We may be able to deceive whoever is singing into opening the wooden door."
Mirandix salutes Noya with his blade before cleaning it. He sheathes the blade and looks toward Bydar while pressing a piece of cloth to the wound in his side, "Would you be willing to lend the grace of your goddess once more, Bydar?"
"Thanks, Zhu-san."
Mirandix salutes Noya with his blade before cleaning it. He sheathes the blade and looks toward Bydar while pressing a piece of cloth to the wound in his side, "Would you be willing to lend the grace of your goddess once more, Bydar?"
Bydar eyes the wound, "Mmm, I best. That would could tear open even worse next fight you get into." The cool light of the goddess of omens gathers into his hands, and when Bydar presses it against Mirandix's wounds, there is no pain, just a brief sensation of numbness and then.. that too is gone. As is much of the wound.
"Do any of you speak the tongue of the orc?" comes Zhu's voice from the orc's mouth. "We may be able to deceive whoever is singing into opening the wooden door."
"Nope. I've never met an orc that was patient enough to teach me anywords beyond the one for 'lunch'" Bydar admits.
"Do any of you speak the tongue of the orc?"
Pontia does not sneer...quite. "I have had no call to learn the tongue of those undisciplined creatures. Before today I would not have been able to conceive of a situation where it would be required. Truly, this expedition has been educational in so many ways."
Bydar eyes the wound, "Mmm, I best. That would could tear open even worse next fight you get into." The cool light of the goddess of omens gathers into his hands, and when Bydar presses it against Mirandix's wounds, there is no pain, just a brief sensation of numbness and then.. that too is gone. As is much of the wound.
Mirandix breathes deeply and stretches where the wound had been, "That is much better, thank you. And thanks to Pharasma as well."
Arma raises to her feet and slowly walks across the floor as the fire fades. She raises her visor and watches as Zhu changes form.
"I also don't know the language Sir Zhu."
Looking down to Kezzat. "Do you know who is singing Lady Kezzat?"
"I'll pass on your praise. While the lady seems cold, she enjoys flattery as much as anyone else," Bydar informs the elf with a nod.
"Blikbek. He makes the music for Bangu Bangu. He make the music like old Gammer, but not powerful music like old Gammer."
Kyrax listens for a moment and comments And he is not half bad.
"Kezzat," says Zhu, still looking like the slain orc, "how do you say 'Open the door now, Blikbek' in the Goblin tongue?"
It occurs to the two of you that, this very day, you may well have collected the 'keys' to these two doors; those metal indentations in the doors look a lot like the holy symbols you collected - one off of Grinner Grim and one out of Sarge's lockbox! It seems they'd fit perfectly...
"Wait..." Zhu-as-orc suddenly reaches into his pocket and withdraws a key. He then mutters a stream of Tien curses. "I am a forgetful fool. I picked up this key during our maddening trip through this castle. Robert, do you have the other key? That insane goblin who demanded a fight said that these keys were important -- they may open these two doors."