Partida Rol por web

No había tiempo que perder y tras acabar con la amenaza de los invasores astrales, les enviaron a ayudar a acabar con los muertos vivientes. Tharas ni se inmutó. Era lo que tocaba y no le disgustaba.

Saco bolsa de maraña y preparo el lanzamiento para cuando esté a mi alcance la momia.

Los brazos de Kiko se agarrotan cuando la momia se aproxima.

Tharas dioo un paso y disparó sus flechas contra la momia que acababa de aparecer. Era un oponente terrible y kiko ya sufría las consecuencias.

a mi me han hecho daño¿? tengo varita curar heridas leves de 50 cargas y otra con 27

+2 en los tiros de salvación contra hechizos y efectos de encantamiento +2 y +1 miedo xd

Mientras Stryga curaba algunas de las heridas de Thiran, Tharas lograba impactar con una flecha en la momia, aunque notó que el proyectil entraba resistencia en el correoso cuerpo del no muerto.*

La momia avanza hacia el único que le ha dañado: Tharas.

Le golpea con una fuerza inhumana... *

**OVERSEER ANNOUNCEMENT** (1 of 2)

Aram Zey speaks out through the tapestry. “The soul stitching is slowing down! The undead are under control. But the tapestry remains in danger. Fight on!”

**OVERSEER ANNOUNCEMENT** (2 of 2)

Suddenly, it becomes clear that the astral invaders’ retreat is merely a ploy. More invaders pour through the rifts to reinforce their companions. Their reckless assault tears the holes wider, and the entire demiplane begins to shift and fold. Locations fade and vanish, reappearing miles away, now separated by a wide expanse of barren, rocky wasteland. The invaders continue to pour through, and the tapestry’s exhausted repair mechanisms cease to function altogether. The triumphant attackers converge on the Pathfinders scattered across the wasteland.

Then, the sky turns red.

A primal screech pierces the tapestry, and a colossal ruby-flamed phoenix appears in the sky, its wings nearly blocking the sun. It swoops across the sky at tremendous speed, its tattered feathers leaving a trail of smoke. With another screech, it flaps its massive wings, and countless fiery feathers shoot towards the invaders. As the feathers strike, they explode, incinerating much of the invading force. Then the phoenix turns its attention to the other outsiders—the mass of Pathfinders—and beats its wings once more. A barrage of feathers strikes the wasteland, and from each resulting inferno emerges a bird of pure ruby-red flames.

Aram Zey’s voice echoes. “Can you hear me, Pathfinders? The tapestry is in its death throes! You are cut off—I cannot help you escape. Destroy the phoenixes—perhaps their magic can repair the tapestry!”