Monster thread (Redux) Chapter 1

A clarification on the mouth-fired water jet on Merman brothers, it is essentially the actual equivalent of a javelin. So it would have the comparable effect on shields, armor,etc. Keep this in mind.

Also, it does not need to be fired at a distance so they can grapple you and then fire it right into your face if they wanted/could.

Target #1:
Armor: Plate armor with barbute helm--solid protection if they get behind you, good breathing and vision though for the confines of the house.

Weapons: Steel round shield about 20" in diameter, 24" mace with smooth round head, and arming sword much like Albion Yeoman Oakeshot type XIV--it appears battle will be in close quarters. The shield can be use for good protection and pushing them away. the mace is for disabling. The Yeoman would be a good blade for close quarters and unarmored foes.

Companion: a good priest with lots of holy water. He would be armored, but there mainly to exorcise these kids. I would give a large shield with a cross (much like a modern SWAT team uses). He would hide behind it and fling holy water about.

It would be much easier to take them all out from afar, but I know she would want me to try and save them. So we stand outside and begin lobbing holy water at the house. It does not react well. The little ones come boiling out in a wave. I meet them at the steps to bottleneck them. The holy water flung on them confuses and disorients them. I use the shield to block their short blades and the mace to hit arms and legs pulling my blows to avert killing. They began jumping out the windows to get behind us. The priest is shouting and knocking them away with his shield, but I see them coming at him from behind. I can't turn without getting swarmed. It may be time to draw my sword.

Then I see the glowing cat eyes in the window. The foul familiar couldn't resist watching. I grab the hand crossbow clipped to my belt, raise it and loose a bolt with a wide razor edged, thrice-blessed tip. It slices neatly into the cat and the shrieking familiar explodes in flames. The kids all collapse like puppets without strings. The priest and I drag the unconscious children from the house, and watch it burn to the ground. As the kids begin to stir, I am uneasy, but the priest assures me they are free of the foul influence. We part. He and the children travel to a nearby convent while I ready myself to face the sea monsters.

I dunno, I ain't got anyone at the moment, so whoever she is, she can fend for herself lol. But I would enter for the adventure maybe, if I had to enter at all.

Give me a second to see what I'll do


Answer : the orphans I would avoid if I can, but if I have no choice, they are effing toast

The sea monsters would be more difficult, so what I would do is my favourite technique in every dream and video game, and an easily used one in real life: plan my attack around a highly structured area. The walls could provide enough support to distort vision, making room for planning, and give me time to reload my cross bow. Did I mention? I would use my cross bow to deliver the blow


I dunno if I missed something so I'll give a melee weapon answer. As it shoots a water jet at said pillar, I would throw javelins while it blasted at it

I just came back to this thread to just say that was awesome work Seth. Love the thought and detail.

I read it again today.

I can't wait to see how you would deal with the fiends on thread #2.

The Camera cuts to a sharply dressed gentleman watching as Seth embraces his beloved on the beach as the amber afternoon sheds gold upon the occasion.

"Bravo! Bravo!

Absolutely beautiful.

Congratulations, You have Broken both curses and not only rescued your beloved but the lost souls turned into fiends."

An ominous cheering comes seemingly out of nowhere..



The gentleman walks away and as he continues his stride he becomes more and more difficult to see as if a stygian mist is obscuring his visage. He comes to a slow stop, turns his head only to allow himself to be heard better.

" The funny thing about curses my friend... they sometimes repeat...they sometimes metamorphize... there is no shortage of them.. I know that we will meet again...it is fate, after all"

The camera moves slowly upward, time lapses quickly, The moon turns a blood red and a scream is heard in the distance from an unknown location.

Only a lead up to continue:

sbg-sword-forum.forums.net/thread/62376/monster-thread-redux-chapter-2

If you dare brave another gauntlet.

And for those in the future.

Old Friend,

You have doubtless heard the news.  Though distance be great, our circle is ampl.

Much as my beloved is gone,  they have left hope and hope is a powerful lever.

Can you see? Demons are a tricky fiend.  They tell me i.must deal with a horde of them.  A horde? That many of them, one place, one time?  A trick is afoot and I will be the summoner, abjurer and banishment in one.  Bear with me Old Friend, our tale begins thusly...

For a time, I would research the lore, plumb the depths, if you will of the locale, it's history and it's legends.  I would ask (with meade and fine wines and the promise of much smoked meat from my stock) of an old friend his help and sage advice though I would not let Lopez so injur himself in a direct conflict with anyone or anything--his health is poor and he lacks the stamina of youth.  His speed of mind, his recall and knowledge of the esoteric, those are his prime qualities.  More than once, his devices and spells were the saviors of my tanned hide.

After a time, he summoned me...a plan has developed in the dank recesses of his mind, something crafty no doubt.
But alas i find him not in his abode of respite, no. The dark presence of an uninvited energy is upon the stairs to his sanctum sanctorum...the magicks i know that guard his place have all been tripped or wracked, broken open or forced aside.  Upon his table, a collection of wisdom...his egg and cheese bun untouched and candle burned 3/4 low...i am perhaps too late...?  He is gone, the diner dead cold.




I snatch up Demonology and Devil Lore and it falls open to a marked page...



I trace it back to its index so i may read the signs Senior Lopez has left me...veiled gods indeed.  Mere tricksters before the true creator, He Who Sits Above.



After a spell in the hidden language of numbers i have discovered what I seek...protection and bindings, enough therein to force the name or names of these demons from the as-yet unredeemed orphans.



With a last look around i find the artifact i seek--a blade forged in the image of a Cerebus Fang...by maker Hibben, blessed by time immemorial, enemy of the Hounds of Tindalos...I am ready.



The ground is soft, swampy and reeks of decay and vegetation gone to fruiting bodies.  Never-the-less, I have chosen my time and my place and about the manse of the undead, I have placed my wards and my protections, my salts and esters most efficient at preventing evil from crossing thresholds or windowpanes, glass or metal.  Truely traped by salts and brickdusts, I begin the chant with dagger held high and blessed incense burning.  I can tell they are awake now, the sun is fading behind clouds that have appeared from nowhere.  The demons-within are stretching forth their praeternatural powers.  They are strong perhaps as strong as the amulet I have created.  I have left them one exit and as they emerge I bind them, trapping them in the ensnaring trap of He Who Sits Above in Shadow.  Though they have given me no names, I am rising above their tricks, illusions and cantrips--they are yet weak, their snarling affects me not and no venom they spit can reach me....one should stand within a great circle of Solomon cast with the salt from angels tears.

I begin to pray, the old words rolling from my mouth.  My body rocks, words erupt in song from my mouth and I dance... the power flowing through me from the Cerebus Fang is like nothing Ihave ever felt before.  Surely it is the will of the hidden gods and their teickster natures, that the demons should hold on for so long.  As my incantations rise, so rises up a great storm to swallow the light.  I know it is soon to be over.  This is not  their storm, not  their holy lightning, what they have started has been repurposed, turned back on them...through the huricane a cool breath from above gusts gently through my hair and i wonder how long before they give up their names.

Fear not, for I have moved the games pieces, positioned them on the board against the Demons and I am ready to call them out.    The storm reaches a crescendo and lightnight lashes the towers, i notice a small motion of a cat slink aside one of the trees.  A gesture, a rune scribed on air by laser quick reflexes and gone is the carrier, consumed in holy flame, lightning flashing fast enough to leave only an after image on the eye.
A cocophany of screams and cries, ancient curses are hurled at me and i recognize the origin of the beast.

"Give me your names." I hold the seal of YHWH high.  " You who will not depart these bodies will give me youe names!"

A dozen voices are wrenched from each host.  The Fang vibrates to each repeating its own name.  
The shield of YHWH stands firm against their multiplanar assault.  As they are lashed by wind and debris, i.am safe in the protection of His pinions.
I step from the cirlce of solomon, i cross into their masses yet i feel no wind nor weather.
I cut through their din and begin casting out and capturing the demons in the Fang.   One touch and the soulless chamber of ancient starstuff will suck, cleanse and remove the essence of most minor and some major demons, given the right rituals and primers.
The work continues as i am an instrument of something....beyond words and equally beyond the demons i battle..
The night is growing lighter.  The eastern horizon is soon abaze with morning light.
A final crack of thunder and a flash of lightning renders the oak behind me in four flaming pieces, likewise a stone splits and falls apart in four and as i hold aloft The Fang, so to is it rent asunder by an unseen force, four pieces delivered back in to my waiting hand.  Th storm ebbs and dies.

The Fang lays broken..  The shield of YHWH is melted slag.  Brickdusts and salt are evaporated esthers on the winds of time.
Some are recovering but others, sadly their tiny lights have been consumed leaving only shells behind.
There is no magicks or ritual arcane to bring them back.  

Soon I will go fishing and add another tale to the growing chronicle.  Tonight, ill begin tracking down my friend Guard Captain OHanrahan...he will surely have ale to share and a score to settle with whomever has taken our friend.

 Duncan, old friend, beware--they are moving again.  Make preparations with Mateusz, Scott and Stewart.  I have sent each a piece of the Fang, a cut of Oak and a stone from the orphanage.  Guard these well...
.

Cool! Thank you for sharing. Now I want to get a Hibben blade.

Another option might be the use of Colloidal Silver. Maybe just keeping it in a vial or Jar and coating weapons and arrow heads in it before use. Maybe Garlic essential oil might also work similarly for the vampiric type monsters.

Also after you have beaten them until they are incapacitated you can then pour the rest of the contents right onto their head to finish them.