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Winterborn
Epilogue - The Final Blow

Epilogue - The Final Blow

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Lingering Damage (Lyndis): 6d6 = 21 (Acid)

Melinda’s Attack Roll (Lyndis): 1d20+19 = 26 (Flatfooted) (Hit)

Damage: 1d10+3 = 8

Vampiric: 1d6 = 2 (DR 10/Silver)

Ruinous: 1 (CHA)

Vitriolic Blow: 7d6 = 30 (Acid) (Acid Resistance 10)

I was the only one left, and the same was true for the priestess. I couldn’t underestimate her, not with her having survived the fight so far. But I couldn’t give her time to breathe, either. I needed her angry, making mistakes. If she was allowed to think, she might try something that would piss me off.

So, I charged. My black blade slashed upward, carving an invisible arc through the air that became quite visible as it passed through the werewolf’s armor. The acid energy surrounding the blade struck true, gravely wounding the priestess.

Lyndis’s Concentration Check: 1d20+21 = 27 (Success)

Melinda’s Ref Save (Blade Barrier): 1d20+31 = 51 (Success)

Damage: 15d6 = 57 (Half Damage)

The priestess grit her teeth, and made short, quick movements, not giving me an opportunity to interrupt her casting. When she was done, a ring of blades sprang up around her, with me caught in the midst of it! I dodged as best I could, but that still was only good enough to just barely keep my life.

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Lingering Damage (Lyndis): 6d6 = 17 (Acid)

Melinda’s Attack Roll (Lyndis): 1d20+22 = 42 (Flatfooted Touch) (Hit)

Vitriolic Blow: 14d6 = 47 (Acid) (Acid Resistance 10) (Dead)

Flapping my wings, I kicked back, out of the barrier, flying away. Landing next to Vestele’s crumpled form, I turned back to look at the priestess. “Damn your eyes, why won’t you just fucking die, you brain-dead whore of Malar!” The blast I unleashed flew through the barrier, and hit the priestess in the face. She screamed as she fell to the ground, and stopped moving.

Melinda’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds (Vestele): 3d8+5 = 18

I poured a potion down Vestele’s throat, causing her to gasp as she was snatched back from the jaws of death. Her eyes took a moment to focus, and her eyes met my face. The invisibility had lasted just long enough.

“S-so, we won?”

Melinda’s Potion of Cure Serious Wounds (Vestele): 3d8+5 = 22

“Yeah, we won.” I popped the stopper on another potion, and drank it quickly, bringing myself away from death’s door. “We won, but it was a close thing.”

Vestele pulled herself to her feet. “All right, then.” She reached into her pack, and pulled out a pair of scrolls. “It is a good thing we held on to these scrolls of Raise Dead. You want to raise Frostmane, and I’ll get my sister?”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Melinda’s Use Magic Device check: 1d20+29 = 39 (Taking 10)

Melinda’s Use Magic Device check: 1d20+29 = 39 (Taking 10)

For the first time in a while, I pushed myself on my ability to use magical objects not designed for a ‘false caster’ like myself. Tricking the scroll required making the magic believe that I not only had the wisdom to use the magic, but that I was also a divine caster. I got by easily on both counts.

Once Frostmane and Siora were both back amongst the living, I began checking the fallen enemies. The Voice of the World hadn’t given us an announcement about the end of the fight, which I found suspicious. My suspicions were confirmed when I realized that the barbarian was only unconscious, not dead. I took care of that with a blast to his head.

Melinda’s Coup de Grace (Haar): 14d6 = 41 (Acid) (Acid Resistance 10)

Haar’s Fort Save: 1d20+23 = 33 (Fail) (Dead)

Your party has defeated Arden Blackfang, Lyndis Blackfang, and Haar Bloodhowl!

Melinda gains 26400 xp.

Frostmane gains 36000 xp.

Siora gains 36000 xp.

Vestele gains 26400 xp.

You have Leveled Up!

You are now Level 16.

134950 / 136000 XP to level 17.

+1 BAB

HD: 1d8+3 = 8

+1 Bluff, +1 Concentration, +1 Perform (Dance), +1 Sense Motive, +1 Sleight of Hand, +1 Spellcraft, +1 Tumble, +1 Use Magic Device

Warlock Abilities

Damage Reduction – Improves to DR 3/Cold Iron

New Invocation:

Word of Changing (5th) – Baleful Polymorph, as the spell, except that 24 hours after being transformed the subject is entitled to a second saving throw (at its original save bonus) to spontaneously resume its normal form. If the second save fails, it remains in its new form permanently.

Battle Dancer Abilities

Unarmed Damage increses to 2d8.

Frostchylde Wardancer Abilities

Frostblood (Su): The Frostchylde Wardancer's connection to the cold freezes impurities that would harm her, making her immune to nonmagical poisons and diseases.

Loot:

Breastplate of the Hunter King

Blackfang's Bite

Magehunter

Ring of the Dark Master

Ring of the Huntlord

Cloak of the Wolf King

Amulet of Health +4

Ranger's Belt

Bondslave's Ring x10

1774 GP

Blackfang's Caress

Wolfmother's Armor

Alpha's Shield

Lesser Crystal of Arrow Deflection

Periapt of Wisdom +6

Vest of Resistance +5

Belt of Priestly Might

Ring of Protection +5

Ring of Telekinesis

Helm of Teleportation

Greater Horn of Blasting

Golem Manual (Greater Stone Golem)

Wand of Cure Moderate Wounds - 50 charges

Scroll of Finger of Death

Foebreaker

Bloodhunter

Haar's Shirt

Leggings of Dexterity +4

Haar's Ring

Healing Belt

Cloak of Resistance +2

I slumped forward as the Voice of the World officially told us that we’d won. Looking back at the others, I said, “All right. Let’s loot the corpses, and then I suggest we take the rest of the day off. I don’t know about you all, but I’m half-dead. And some of you were all dead, just a bit ago.”

Siora nodded, shakily. “Yes, I think that is best. From what we saw, the bedrooms still look to be in good condition, so we could rest there, at least until morning. Then we’ll need to walk back to Moonwater.”

Vestele sighed. “Probably only to the landing we were dropped off at, actually. We aren’t taking any precautions against scrying or divinations, so the Druid and Witch should be able to keep tabs on us, like they have been doing. No doubt they’ll inform the town about our success.”

Frostmane chuffed. “And then, there’s just the trip back to Northport, so we can spread the news.”

The Beguiler reached over and scratched the wolf behind the ears. “What do you intend to do, once we get back to town, Frostmane? I mean, I know Vestele and I went on this whole adventure to try and make a name for ourselves, and raise the prestige of Malcanthet in the city, but the same doesn’t really apply to you, does it?”

The wolf settled down on his haunches, and leaned into the ear scratches. “I don’t know. Probably see if there aren’t any other parties looking for people. I’m not made for cities, so it would have to be someplace where I could go out in the wild, you know? Perhaps I’ll go wandering.”

I smiled at that. “As for me, well, I have a world to explore, I doubt I’ll stay in any one place for long, at least not until I’ve gotten my fill of exploration. But a bit of a rest before heading on the road again sounds good. And it isn’t like we’ll be hurting for money.”

Vestele nodded slowly. “So, when we get back to Northport, we’ll be going our separate ways, I guess? Wherever our hearts or goddesses may call us, and hopefully to better fortune than those who stand against us.”

I chuckled. “That’s something I could drink to.”

“Well, I might be able to help with that.” All eyes turned to Siora. The beguiler was grinning from ear to ear, as she pulled a bottle out of her bag. “A little something for a celebration.”

Vestele frowned. “That’s Dwarven Firewhiskey! Where in the infinite abyss did you get that?”

“Oh, I might have picked it up in Northport, before we left. I figured we’d share it when we were within sight of the city again, so we could ride into the city in good cheer once more. But, well, I wouldn’t say no to emptying it, or its friends, here and now, in celebration of a job well done.”

We all stared at her, and then one of us giggled. No clue who it was. Could even have been me. But that was like a dam breaking, and soon we were all laughing, and sharing drinks and stories we’d already told before, since it had been only a fortnight since we left Northport for the Moonwood, but it felt like it had been a year or more.

That was an issue for a later me, a more sober me. For now, I just sat against a marble pillar, between a demon-touched elf and a big pile of floof, passing the bottle back and forth in turn. And, at that moment, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.

The End… for now.