Into the Heart of the Storm (IC - Streets of Nuz Edrak)

[Bluetongue]

Shylock Cravat

"Give me the bow. I will cover our retreat." he says frantically as he spies a short bow among the discarded weapons, a quiver spilling the dozen arrows. Grabbing a couple of shafts he just nocks one after another and looses them towards the poor urchin.

Shylock shortbow at short range: [1d20+4] = 13+4 = 17 damage [1d6] = 4 [1d20+4] = 10+4 = 14 damage [1d6] = 5

[Paladin]

The door is wide open. Jasmine can grab her weapons easily enough, too.

[Grognardsw]

Gil, barbarian skald

“To the door, a safe shore!” yells Gil, unconsciously rhyming from the curse of verse.

The barbarian eyes his weapons in the pile, judging if he can safely retrieve them and make it through the door (if so, yes, otherwise straight to the door.) Once the others are through, he’ll slam it shut.

[tarlyn]

Jasmine

Grabbing her items she rushes towards the door fast as she can!

[Paladin]

You think it's very likely he could grab his things while the others get inside.

[tarlyn]

You think it's very likely he could grab his things while the others get inside.

Retcon here she will grab his items as well and get to the door a.s.a.p

[cybersavant]

Corthalis Aelvynwynne looks for any open door, then runs for that.

perception ? and dex
[_4d6] = (5+6+6+1)=18[_4d6] = (1+4+1+2)=8

[Paladin]

Jasmine scoops the pile of weapons awkwardly into her still-manacled arms and sprints for the door as Gil ushers everyone through.

Shylock peppers the unlucky undead with arrows as Corthalis ducks past and joins the living, then slips inside with the others. Another corpse swipes at Gil as it approaches the door, but misses badly and stumbles to its knees before struggling upright to lunge forward again--only to be met by the door slamming in its face.

When the door closes, utter darkness reigns. No lock is readily apparent, but you imagine there is be one somewhere. It'll just take some groping in the dark to find it.

The undead beat at the door and walls, savagely damaging their own bodies in their attempts to break in upon you. The old planks rattle on wooden hinges.

The smell of sickness fills your nostrils and another sound--an eerie, wavering groan, issues from deeper within the house. There is a faint scrabbling sound accompanying the groan, but you can't see well enough to discern the source.

[Bluetongue]

Shylock Cravat

Does his best "Hodor," suggestion to one of the barbarians to barricade the door physically. He urges silence and nocking a further arrow, steps to one side of the room where he might gain a better view using his racial infravision of anything or anyone inside.

[Darklin2]

Alec

Sits and enjoys a bowl of stew in the Inn before retiring to his room for the evening. ( Assuming the barbarians are safe and sound in the Jail.)

[Grognardsw]

Gil, barbarian skald

The barbarian strains against the door.

“A torch alight, to give us sight!” he growls.

[cybersavant]

Corthalis Aelvynwynne

"I have no torch. Normally don't need one. I can magic the door for a bit, if we need."

[tarlyn]

Jasmine

Jasmine fumbles in her pack and retrieves a torch and from a pocket, flint and steel. She carefully lights it and holds the torch up for a better look.

[Paladin]

As Shylock steps to one side, he is able to see through a narrow doorway leading into the rear room of the small house. Blood. Blood everywhere--smeared on the walls, splashed across the floor, and even spattered upon the ceiling. The coppery smell grows overwhelming.

A man, or what remains of him, lies gurgling in his own entrails. He reaches a feeble hand toward the party as Jasmine's torch flickers to life. "Please..." he rasps, lips flecked with blood. "Don't...let me die. Please!" His weak voice is frantic. "My Anasi...she..." He pauses to gulp and cough up still more blood, then slips into merciful unconsciousness as he bleeds out before you.

On the wall is a ladder of sorts, handholds dug into the earthen walls that leads to a door to the roof. It is common, you've heard, for citizens of Nuz Edrak to retire to the rooftops in the evening to enjoy the cool breezes above the densely-packed buildings, so most houses are outfitted with such doors.

The undead respond with even greater ferocity once the light is kindled, beating savagely upon the front door until the top hinge bursts free of the wall.

* * * *

Back at the Inn, Alec is resting comfortably in his room, blissfully unaware of the horrors visited upon his companions. A soft knock sounds upon his door. The large voice of Kazak, somewhat more subdued in the relative silence, calls to him. "My friend. I would have speech with you."

[Bluetongue]

Shylock Cravat

"If your magic can stay the door elf-friend?" he says to the elf.

"At what point do the undead animate? This man. Will he join the walkers in a few moments or tomorrow night? I would rather not wait here to find out."

The halfling shoulders the bow and warily sidesteps the splatters of blood and climbs the wall rungs, slowly unbolt in the trapdoor and peeking out before clamoring through.

[cybersavant]

Corthalis Aelvynwyne casts hold portal on the door, then runs for the ladder.

[Grognardsw]

Gil, barbarian skald

Thews straining, the barbarian of the northern tribes presses his bulk and muscle against the door. As torch light illuminates the room, he looks for the lock or bar to secure the door. If the lock appears sturdy, Gil sets it and lets go of the door; if not, he continues to hold it shut.

The warrior hears talk of magic casting behind him. To be stuck between undead and sorcerers! Gil doesn’t realize magic is now holding the door. If the lock is weak he stays at the door.

“If the man will turn undead,
Then with sword behead!” says Gil to Jasmine.

[tarlyn]

Jasmine

When Jasmine realizes what Corthalis is doing, she holds her breath, hissing outward,,,, fumbling with the torch at her reaction to

him casting a spell ...................................

Dex Check [1d20] = 18

And drops the torch! Cursing, she moves to pick it up and glares at Corthalis..."Next time warn me you cast spell,

I get very nervous and angry around magic!"

[cybersavant]

Corthalis Aelvynwynne looks back at the barbarians. "If i stop to explain my actions every time, you may find yourself in a throng of undead, or soldiers. Better to trust that which helps you and fight that which doesn't. That spell won't hold the door for long." Corthalis resumes climbing the ladder.

[Paladin]

Shylock's question goes unanswered in the chaos of your escape. Shrugging, he clambers up the ladder and surveys the rooftop before slipping noiselessly out, Corthalis hot on his heels.

It's empty up here, and relatively safe--for the moment. Looking around, you see no undead on the adjacent rooftops. Those below keep up their loud clamoring and banging. The front door shudders and groans, though magic and muscle conspire to hold it for a moment longer.

A flustered Jasmine and a taut-muscled Gil are left alone with the wretched dying man. He clings to life by a thread as the world devolves into madness around him.

"I have...gold..." He croaks. "Hidden in ... the house." He plays his final card in a desperate attempt to escape death.

The open door to the roof beckons to you.