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The Master and the Minion - IC Thread

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Xander Morhaime:
The Castellan staggered for a moment as he was struck, the light of his eyes beneath the helmet now barely a glimmer. "It is... over?" you heard him gasp out as his halberd fell to the floor with a clatter. Wispy trails of smoke rising up from his wounds, the Castellan took an unsteady step forward before dropping to his knees with a heavy clang of metal on stone. His head initially bowed, raised up to look at you. For the briefest moment you thought you could see a face behind the darkness of the helmet, and... a smile? Then the light of his eyes finally faded to nothing and he collapsed forward. The wisps of black smoke turned to a cloud of ash that spread out from where he fell, marking the floor black, while the armor settled with a clatter, the helmet rolling off a short distance before stopping at your feet.

Whoever it was that had occupied the armour was gone now, dead... and whatever magic fuelled him had apparently turned on him now, reducing him to the smear of ash and cloud of smoke hanging in the air where he fell.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)End of battle stats:
Tristan: 43/43 HP, 5/13 surges, 1 AP. 75 damage dealt, 46 damage received.
Aden: 20/34 HP, 5/8 surges, 1 AP. 59 damage dealt, 11 damage received.
Ma'kirr: 30/33 HP, 4/7 surges, 1 AP. 47 damage dealt.
Ryltar: 35/35 HP, 6/7 surges, 0 AP. 66 damage dealt.
Saliak: 36/36 HP, 5/9 surges, 0 AP. 42 damage dealt, 16 damage received.Spoiler (click to show/hide)The battle has netted you 200 XP each, bringing you up to 2730 XP.
Should you wish, you may take the Castellan's weapon and armour.
For now, though, please hold off until Tavana comes back.

Gargulec:
With a sigh of relief and fatigue, Tristan, dropped his sword and shield, giving the remains of the Castellan a long look. He sat, his bloodied armour clanging loudly.

'And why do I pity him?' he asked himself in tired voice. 'He was not supposed to die with such honour. Not supposed.'

He paused, and finally, with a bit of reluctance, he snatched small symbol of Avandra from his belt. Holding on it tightly, he whispered a prayer, only raising his voice at it's final words.

'...and if you find him worthy, grand him redemption.'

Madtrixr:
Aden stares for a moment, and then raises his sword high in the air and screams in triumph. he then puts his sword down, and takes the castellans armor and weapons, so that the party may examine them to see what they are.

Gargulec:
'Put it down, please.' mutters Tristan, looking at Aden 'Looting bodies like that? Where is you honour?'

Madtrixr:
Aden dumps the stuff in front of the rest of the party. "This is my honour. I delt the finishing blow on a worthy opponent. I feel obligated to collect this as a memento of a epic clash. Besides, we may need this later, you never know."

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