Rolled 7, 13, 4 = 24 (3d20)
>>5516103>19 for DivinationIt doesn’t take long before you catch sight of one of the skulking fiends. The undead yowler might be invisible to your workers, but it positively GLOWS when you focus your sixth sense and turn your attention upon it. Apart from its invisibility, its creeping is no different from any other ambush predator, and its size is frankly unimpressive. You make a show of not noticing it, even as you periodically look past it or allow your vision to drift across its path a sit skulks towards a group of your workers.
>15 for Sword MasteryWhen the thing leaps to shred your kobold servant, you strike. Your shoggoth sword is drawn as a dagger, and flung. It strikes the yowler which (perhaps predictably) yowls. Your servants and slaves freeze, then many begin to scramble and scatter. Not so your Pit Guard’s Apprentice, though, who barrels into battle and lands upon the suddenly-visible yowler. He begins to wrestle with the creature, grappling with it and preventing it from simply teleporting away. He holds it from behind, forcing its throat and belly up. In an instant, Azonia the Duelist is there too, and with two clean slices of her two shortswords, the undead yowler is decapitated and gutted.
“It is strong for a small creature,” the Apprentice pants, using the Northern Common-tongue.
“It is undead,” his master, the Pit Guard, reminds him. “They do not feel pain or exhaustion, nor fear overtaxing their bodies.”
Azonia looks to you questioningly, and you repeat the Steeltalons’ words in Dark Elven.
“Undead, and now dead again!” the Duelist boasts, holding aloft the head…
Which then vanishes.
The Duelist stares at her empty hand, while you hurriedly cast <See Invisibility> again. But… No. The head has not simply cloaked itself from conventional sight, but has teleported away!
“Not so dead,” the Pit Guard mocks.
You hurriedly retrieve your shoggoth-sword and , smacking it upon a rock and channeling your mana through your thrumming voice, awaken it. It seems dazed at first, but when you prod at the remaining meat and bone of the headless yowler, the sword understands your meaning-or simply hungers. It forms teeth and chomping maws along its cutting edge, and you allow it to taste of the creature’s corpse.
The Junior Novice growls and whines, and you follow his gaze to the deeper darkness of the surrounding caves. Something is watching you out there. You can sense it, too, if not see it—it is beyond the range of your sixth sense, as well, without a dedicated casting of <Guidance>.
