Quoted By:
Not many stood up, from the few many just fled.
But those who rose to fight found their purpose true, and inspired the lost to rise with them.
There were barely past a dozen warriors at best, and their enemy did not flinch at their resolve.
The cloud of smoke like flesh crashed into the expedition, drowning them in its dying throes.
The diluting horror trying to grasp their minds with borrowed bones and gore.
[Edda(4 points) + Kyl (1d6) + 15 + 1 (Tools) [DC 18] Not possible to fail, reduces expedition Resources to 2 at worse.]
Flayed minds echoing the Fallen Star were made of the weakest of the defense.
Their shaken minds resonating with the halls and gnawing at the edges of your senses.
Mudding sight and sound to a foggy state.
But they kept fighting, stabbing and breaking whatever was not part of the black mist.
The mist itself trying to be counted by magic’s and the like.
Only a handful of the groups were still alive when the world became clearer.
the burdens of the mind becoming lighter, like breathing fresh air after a long time.
Whatever was that help power in this place was gone, and so where the labyrinthine sense of the hallways.
The group exited the crumbling palace, and stood in ruins no longer hostile.
the mission was over, they could go home.
it had all finally ended, just in time to see the rising sun.
[The End]
