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[4E D&D] (IC) Temple of Elemental Evil {Ruins of the Moathouse}

IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
edited June 2012 in Critical Failures
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This is a PbP game for the original Temple of Elemental Evil module. Thank you to Gary Gygax (R.I.P) and Frank Mentzer for creating the module, and TSR for publishing the T1-4 compilation.

This is the IC thread for the module. The OOC thread can be found here.

General Information
Please post at least once per day (except on Sat/Sun if you're not able) and post in the OOC thread or PM me if you're going to be away for an extended period of time, so that I can have someone else post for you, or we can make other arrangements. I want to keep the action moving as much as possible, so please make sure to try and keep up on posting. I don't want to have to remove anyone, and I'll be as leniant as possible.

In the tradition of DM'ing, I'm going to [STRIKE]plagiarize[/STRIKE] borrow liberally from TiamatZ's format for encounters, and therefore the next portion of this post might look strangely familiar to some:

For combat, I will provide the HP, AC and other defences (as well as any special bonuses monsters receive e.g. +2 AC when standing next to each other) of the enemies present and you shall roll attack rolls. If you hit, roll damage and work that into your post. Also colour coded the monsters (makes it easier to work with, since most of you are newbies to the PbP format) by their border; red are minions, green are normal monsters, yellow are elites and purple are solos. So if you pop a daily on a red bordered monster you are going to feel really silly because it shouldn't last more than a single hit. Everyone will post their IC actions, with the rolls and results in SPOILER tags.

I will use TalonRazor’s idea (from the Legend of Novus PbP game). You must declare what you are doing in ORANGE text. The rolls must be in RED BOLD text and linked to the IC (or Orokos) roll. At the bottom of the post, still in spoiler tags, they shall post who is up next, in brackets and size 3 font that is GREEN, and who is on deck. Here is an example template:

"Johnny Law swings his mighty fist, smacking the honest citizen in the face."
Spoiler:

For immediate interrupts, remember to post them with any criteria to follow in orange as well. If one of your powers has an immediate interrupt ability, state that power as well as when to use it e.g. when a monster strikes me, I want to use power X (where X is the power with immediate interrupt, such as Wizard’s Shield utility power, or the Fighter’s No Opening Utility power).
The Intrepid Band of Adventurers

quinn_token.png LiteJedi as Quinn Aldurath, Half-Elf "Paladin" of St. Cuthbert- Quinn is littered with scars, both physical and mental. He has suffered at the hands of random violence, injustice, cruelty and depravity. Everything he had in his life was taken from him, and all that was left was pain. When even his life was on the verge of being taken, he was saved by an elderly devotee of The Cudgel, and finally saw justice delivered. Since then, he has devoted himself to seeking out and delivering the same justice to all manner of criminal.

faergus_token.png 3seed as Faergus Winterkin, Dragonborn Paladin- Faergus grew up as a boy orphaned twice, once by the mysterious beings who left him to be raised amongst men and second by the horde of orcs that razed his adopted village. Somehow, in spite of these tragedies, he grew up happy, underfoot a ragtag collection of refugees that became his new faimly. Pelor graced him with life and hope, and he followed that path into paladinhood. Now in Verbobenc, he investigates an alarming rise in banditry.

val_token.png Reynolds as Valesti Hurlsbaatt, Dwarven Ranger- Although Valesti's father doted upon her, she had always known she was one average, unspectacular child among six other siblings, all boasting more extraordinary skills. After his death, her family was all too happy to usher her into the life of an adventurer and get her out of their way. Armed with skills and pride passed down from her father and grandfather, she sets out on a journey of self-discovery, traveling with the protection of a nearly forgotten god from her home in Ulek to nearby Verbobonc before settling in to decide her next move.

alfonse_token.png Alfonse_Palanso as Alfonse Palanso, Human Rogue- All you can see is part of of a face under long hair. His cloak covers his body, and you don't notice anything particular about him. He is very quiet, can be sarcastic at times, and very cautious, so cautious, you could say he's paranoid. He has been looking for adventurers to help find his sister that has been kidnapped.

flight_token.png Lord Palington as Flight, Warforged Druid- Amassed of a great many metallic beetles, an unknown directive drew them to the moathouse dungeon, where they met with the party. The many that make up Flight seek more of itself, for each missing part is a piece to its puzzle.

Those That Have Fallen

otinan_token.png Bp1580 as Otinan Arborshade, Eladrin Wizard- Often prone to tempting Fate, Otinan wandered too far from the party... and was eaten by an ogre.

Orokos/Invisible Castle/MythWeavers Campaign Name
Spoiler:

Illianthar on
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Posts

  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    In the Beginning
    Month: Reaping
    Day: Starday the 8th



    Through destiny, conscious choice, or outright blind chance, you have made your way to the city of Verbobonc. Some would say that everyone makes their way to Verbobonc at one point or another, if they have any sense to them. The city, although not a part of any major nation, is larger and more prominent than any other city outside of the Free City itself; moreso if you were to ask a few of the gnomes whose father's uncle's cousin's grandfather help build the city up from its elven roots.

    The city is vibrant with life and movement. Stands line the road for miles leading up to the city with people trying to sell their wares before you reach the metropolis proper , and throngs of people move in and out of the main gates on their way to do their business, or continue on to other parts of the Flanaess. The population of the city is more of a melting pot than anything else, and on any given street you might see a group of halflings bantering with a goliath, or a minotaur arguing with a wilden about whether or not the price of wheat is too high for this time of year. The city is divided into several districts. The Market District, closest to the main gates, is where most of the trade occurs, and is also the site of several Inns and taverns. Past the market are the Temple, Residential and Government districts. City guards monitor the entire city in small patrols, with the highest concentration being at the main gates.

    Immediately upon entering the city, you are faced immediately with the most enormous wooden post you have ever seen. Measuring more than 10 feet in diameter, and being at least 20 feet tall, it is constructed from a single piece of oak. Attached to the post at odd intervals are bits of paper, parchment, fabric, leather, and other substances, all scribbled upon with text including notes, shopping lists, government council minutes, requests for work, requests for workers, love letters, and anything else imaginable. The adornments that affix the items to the post are also equally varied and odd, from the mundane nails and tacks to what appears to possibly be a human finger bone. A sign is attached at the very top of the post, identifying it in large letters as "THE TOWN CRIER." Several guards stand at intervals around the post. As you approach, one looks at you directly and states, in kind of a drawl, "Eh, look but don't touch, right?" He motions to the mace at his side, as if to assign causality to attempting to remove any of the notices.

    As you peruse the board, you feel a sensation from the mark that you have born for most, if not all, of your life and your eyes are inexplicably drawn to one of the scraps of paper on the post. The note is penned on a mundane piece of parchment, small in size, and attached to the post with a simple tack. Other papers overlap most of the note, so that it is almost lost in the clutter. But yet you are lured to it nonetheless. Upon its surface is written, in a delicate, neatly penned script:

    "A major personage in Verbobonc is seeking several hardy, virtuous adventurers for a mission of special importance. Fame and fortune, as well as the utmost gratitude of the affected party will be yours with the successful completion of this task. All interested parties should come to the Broken Wheel Inn at daybreak on Sunday the 9th of Reaping."


    OOC:
    Spoiler:

  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    The streets were unusually busy as Otinan walked through the makeshift bazaar that preceded Verbobonc. It truly was a noisy city, with a million different arguments and discussions going on at once. He was actually glad the city was this loud, however, as a tall man dressed like a cultist didn't really stand out amongst the white noise the city created. Between the minotaur chefs selling "mystery" pie and dwarfs demonstrating the quality of their mining tools by feverishly digging holes in the ground, yet another mage with a probable devotion to a god that expressed love through acidic slime wasn't really cause for alarm.

    He didn't even entertain such ridiculous beliefs of course, but playing the part was useful in warding off unnecessary conversation. He was only in the city because he needed some supplies for his trip across the world...and because the mark on his right hand seemed to be guiding him down the streets toward something large near the city walls. He still didn't fully understand what the mark was, but it seemed benign enough, so he let it be.

    The odd pull led him to quite possibly the last thing he had expected to see in a city of this kind; a large wooden post filled with countless notices and job requests. One of the many guards surrounding it shot Otinan a glance, possibly to serve as a not so subtle "touch the board and die..." or that's what they'd like, anyway. He had never known guards to be of the calm and collected verity.

    The mark on his hand seemed to pull his eyes away from the jumbled mess of dated government memos and advertisements for various mercenary groups and direct his gaze toward a small piece of paper asking for adventurers to undertake a "mission of special importance." He laughed a little to himself. The sword happy idiots who undertook these kinds of suicide missions usually ended up starving to death at the bottom of a cavern somewhere. Perhaps the mark was trying to amuse him?

    The mark began to burn as he left the board though, and after several minutes of trying to ignore it he resigned himself to visiting the Inn. "Perhaps they'll take one look at me and send me away." he though. He was hardly a "hardy" and "virtuous," much less an adventurer. There was a reason why city streets were constantly clogged with adventurers, but factual accounts of these journeys hardly ever reached the public. Still, simply turning up at the inn wouldn't land him in a grave, and it would probably take the day to find a quality source of supplies in a city this big anyway...

    His mind set on staying in the city, he decided to leave the large thongs of people near the gates by heading for the governmental district (he thought he saw a memo on the board that the council wasn't in session today, so no danger there), resolving to purchase his supplies later in the day when the crowds had thinned a little.

  • ReynoldsReynolds Superwoman Punch! Wrestlemania LXIIIRegistered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Valesti had just spent the most uncomfortable night sleeping in a stable. She had already known horses themselves were horrible creatures after her older brother had dared her to ride one back when they were kids, and she now had first-hand experience to prove they were not at all pleasant to be around, even when they were sleeping. She had only been able to scrounge up a few gold coins before leaving home, and thrift had lead her to this bed of hay. It hadn't been too bad, actually, except for the horses. And the smell, of course.

    She didn't plan to spend another night there, though. Valesti had entered town too late to spend all night hunting down a cheap inn and haggling for a room. After waking, she sat in thought for long hours, trying to ignore both the horses and the itch on the back of her right hand. She finally determined there was nowhere better to start than that large post she'd passed last night. It had been too dark to read the notices then, but the guards had explained it's purpose.

    Trying to rid herself of stray bits of hay as she stomped through town, Valesti wasted no time with any other distractions as she headed for the Crier. Once she had finally decided on a course of action, there was no more reason to delay, she had always thought. Grumbling as she elbowed for room with the crowd as politely as she could manage, scratching at the back of her hand and trying to stand on her toes to read the higher notes, she eventually found herself drawn to the neatly penned note.

    Feet firmly planted as the itch faded, she scowled at the note. This seemed too convenient. Others jostled and bumped into her, the Dwarf standing her ground as she thought things through. She wasn't trying to be rude, she was simply standing there, oblivious, as she concentrated on her decision. Eventually she turned, heading out to locate the inn mentioned in the note. She would search in the Market near the Crier first, asking about, expanding her search if it became necessary. Then Valesti would plant herself in the inn and order a proper meal. This would give her time to observe things - the inn, the employees, the patrons - and help her decide whether or not to go through with this. At the very least she'd have time to figure the fair price of a night at this inn. She wasn't going to wind up in another stable this night.

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  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Quinn woke with a start, his hand gripping his sword-hilt tightly. His neck and back ached more than usual, and the tightness in the tendons of his hands was severe. He had been sleeping in a small broom closet in a low-rent inn southwest of the city of Verbabonc. He had traveled here to investigate the rumor of goblin raids on the local villages; a rumor which turned out to be false. Stopping at a small tavern for supper, a number of ruffians in the tavern's common area began harassing barmaids and patrons. When the leader of their group started threatening a family of gnomes, Quinn interposed himself between the two. Quinn convinced them to leave, first with his words, and then with his sword, and the thugs departed, vowing revenge. The tavernkeeper thanked him and offered Quinn free room, but he declined and asked only that he be allowed to keep watch in case the ruffians returned. Which is how the night went, with the thugs deciding to pester some other unfortunate people the rest of the evening. Gathering his things, he left the inn and headed to his home.

    A few hours later he arrived at the city gates. Glancing, he noticed "The Town Crier" had many postings. He began walking towards the post, and the mark on his shoulder began to itch, something which generally occured only in the presence of injustice. Considering the average townsfolk and guards didn't seem to be doing many things related to injustice, he began to walk past it. No sooner did begin to move away did he feel an incredile pain in his arm, eminating from the mark on his back. Crying out, he nearly collapsed in the street. He turned around and began examining the people around him, most with plain faces and the gaunt looks of those with hard lives. "None of these people are doing anything, what in the hells is going on," he murmured to himself. Then he noticed that there was almost imperceptible light coming from the post, from one note in particular. The light was pale and faint, and nearly washed out by the brightness of the morning sun. The note was simply fastened and very plain, and it was a typical call to arms for adventurers, with a meeting at the Broken Wheel Inn, the next day. The light seemed to fade, and both the itch and the pain in his mark disappeared. Scratching at his coppery beard, he realized that the cudgel was trying to send him an inexplicable message. Quinn resolved that he would be at the Broken Wheel Inn the next morning, he would be a fool to ignore such a missive.

    He made his way back to the temple, and picked up some supplies along the way. A solid length of quality rope. A number of sunrods. A small shovel and some chalk. Whatever lay in store the next day, he resolved to be prepared for anything that may come up.

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
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  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    People milled around the Town Crier, the motion of their bodies reminding Faergus of summer wheat swaying in the wind. The Dragonborn smiled at the memory.

    He'd taken his own look at the post earlier. How could one come to Verbobonc and not admire its famed Town Crier? He'd been alternately amused and alarmed by what saw there. One piece in particular had him guessing: "An Ode to Fish Heads Under a Noon Day Sun." Was this truly considered art? If so, he didn't understand it. He'd grown up among common folk, so perhaps he didn't have the learning or culture to appreciate it. Although he knew a good song when he heard one. The Copper Pot prospered well enough and took care of the bards that stopped by to entertain its patrons. Faergus felt pride in his kinsmen, and then tamped the emotion down. All things are humble under the Sun, he reminded himself.

    His thoughts drifted to the Catechism of the Sun, mulling over the relevant sections when he spotted a Dwarf shoving her way through the crowd. She planted her feet solidly in front of the note. On her face was honest, slow deliberation. She was there a goodly while, until, decision made, she headed to the Market District.

    That's two, he thinks to himself. And nothing like the first one, wrapped up in his cloak, shying away from all touch and contact. What do I make of them, he wondered. Both came straight to the note, one scoffing, the other serious. How did they know it was there?

    When the young bearded man fell, Faergus stepped forward, ready to call on Pelor's aid, but his help wasn't required. The fellow picked himself up, returned to the note, and then walked away unhurt. He was the third and confused the situation even more.

    A compulson? The ridges along Faergus's head tingled. This investigation was rapidly becoming very interesting indeed. Would any more come? He resolved to wait and see. One thing was certain however, when morning came, he would be sure to be at the Broken Wheel.

  • Alfonse_PalansoAlfonse_Palanso Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Alfonse leaned up against a wall watching the post, people going to and fro, the drones of everyday life, people running around like ants in the colony.

    I wait to see if any one might be strong enough to help me in my endeavor, sizing people up. After couple of hours waiting, yes, it finally happened.

    I spot a man, in robe garb, he' looking at all the posts, he seems to find one that interests him, he looks it over, and starts to walk away when, a faint glow reveals itself from under his sleeves. Yes, it is starting, I sit back waiting for more to show, there has to be. So I wait patiently.

    My wait wasn't long for I felt another come to the post, I scanned over the crowd, I can feel the person, but I can't see them... I keep looking, traveling around the edges of the area, why can't I find this one... That's when I realize I was looking to high. Of course I look in front of the "Post" and below it, a dwarf was standing there sure footed reading the note. I chuckle to myself, ah yes, she'll work out well. I slink back to my wall and wait again.

    The toothpick in my mouth dips low and I scan the post, it looks like a half elf, seeming to be in some sort of pain, ah, yes, the all to familiar pain, brought memories back. That was for another time though. As the half-elf composes himself, a passer-by a rather large one goes to help out. The large one, I had noticed had been milling about the area, just about as long as I have. I can sense that these two are here for the note.

    Smiling under his hood, Alfonse slips into the crowd. He heads toward The Broken Wheel.

  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Otinan:
    Spoiler:

    Valesti:
    Spoiler:

    Quinn, Faergus, and Alfonse (Plus the others, once they reach the Inn in the morning):

    Month: Reaping
    Day: Sunday the 9th
    Time: daybreak


    Morning comes to the city of Verbobonc. In the early hours, the Market District is quite calm, a stark difference from the chaotic atmosphere of the previous day. Dew hangs from the plants, and a chill hangs in the air that seems out of place, given that it is summer. You approach the Broken Wheel Inn, taking note of the large wagon wheel with a section missing hung above the door to the multi-floored wooden building, and the sign labeled "Broken Wheel Inn" to the left of the door. The double doors leading into the building are currently closed against the cold. Inside, the hearth is lit with a modest fire, and warmth pervades the room. Behind the bar stands a true giant, an eight foot tall goliath with mottled gray skin, and large rock-like protrusions coming out of his shoulders and face. As you enter, he looks over and takes stock of you. Seeming to come to a conclusion quickly about your intentions, he jerks his thumb towards the hallway next to the bar, saying politely, if somewhat devoid of emotion, "Ah yes, another adventurer. You must be here to see Victor. He is in the meeting room at the end of the hall." With that, he returns to organizing some bottles on the bar behind him.

    The meeting room is actually quite large, having a podium and a few tables at the front, and then several rows of chairs. There are currently four occupants in the room. A halfling sits in one of the chairs in the front row. He wears a simple suit of leather armor, and carries a short sword at his hip. A second glance shows the sword to be wooden, and the armor to be more ceremonial than functional, and a little too big. Standing in a corner off to the right of the door are two humans wearing black cloaks that are pulled around their bodies. They look to be shivering somewhat, and repeatedly rub their cloaks against their arms to warm up.

    The last of the occupants of the room stands behind the podium, or rather you think there's someone behind the podium, as you see a mostly bald head with sparse black hair poking just above the structure. As you enter, the being moves out from behind the podium and reveals itself to be a short, portly human wearing thick-lensed spectacles. He wears the clothing of a government official, replete with the crest of Verbobonc emblazoned on the shoulder. The tunic is ill-fitted, though, and some of his stomach shows below the shirt. He fidgets occasionally with the shirt, trying to pull it down to no avail, while simultaneously mumbling to himself as if he's rehearsing a prepared speech. Occasionally he'll make a hand gesture, or stop and shake his head, starting over.

    OOC
    Spoiler:

    Eventually the man looks up, and seeing that there are others in the room with him, he quickly tugs at his search again, and speaks. His voice is high-pitched and nasally, and he stammers repeatedly as he speaks.

    "Oh, so few have come….oh dear, oh dear. Ver….Very well. Hello, adventurers. My name is Victor, and I am Seneschal to the Viscount of Verbobonc." As he speaks his title, he looks to puff out his chest, although the only effect is that his stomach jiggles slightly. "As you may or may not know, there has been…has been… a disappearance. Countess Til…Tillagh…Tillahi and her escorts have vanished on the road from Verbobonc to the elven empire. There have been no ransom demands, or news of any kind about her where…where…whereabouts. The Viscount fears for the worst, and has tasked me with assembling a band of worthy explorers to locate the Countess and bring her to safety. The Viscount has also approved me to offer you mounts for the journey south, as well as provisions and a reward of one thou...thousand gold per person."

    His speech complete, Victor drums his fingers together and begins to sweat a little, as if he's not quite sure how to proceed from here. He looks very much like someone who isn't quite comfortable with well-armed folks within arm's reach of him. Wiping his brow, he manages to spit out, "So..uhm…err…deal?"

    Passive Perception (Alfonse, Valesti):
    Spoiler:

  • ReynoldsReynolds Superwoman Punch! Wrestlemania LXIIIRegistered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Valesti seemed unsure about the innkeeper, looking over the giant longer than was strictly polite before nodding and settling into a table with a nice view of the room. She has no other plans for the day but to sit and wait. The Dwarf grew more comfortable as the hours passed, watching the giant move so carefully, obviously quite serious about his work. The meal was surprisingly good as well, and she was eventually convinced to spend the few coins for a room. Satisfied that the inn was as mundane and harmless as she could hope for, Valesti retired to her room to ponder what the next day would bring.

    She was surprised to find she wasn't the first to arrive in the meeting room, settling into the first row to avoid having her view blocked. Valesti barely held in a snort at the halfling's ridiculous sword. Considering it as she waited, there couldn't be any explanation for it that wouldn't likely deserve such a reaction. She takes notice of the two strange men that were there before her as well as others that enter.

    Although the Dwarf tried to keep her focus on the fidgety little man as he spoke, she couldn't help but notice the two cloaked men departing. They'd been acting strangely, she thought. Valesti tried to think of what their behavior might mean, before the announcement of this possible payment distracted her. Had she heard right? On second thought, it made sense...if these elves had disappeared, that meant someone had probably already looked for them and failed.

    She might prefer to think things over at her own pace, but she never hesitated to ask questions. More information made these decisions easier. "What if we fail? Either to locate or retrieve her? What compensation for time and supplies then?" Valesti stayed quiet after that, understanding that questions about leads or when or where they might be paid or supplied would be pointless if she decided to turn down the offer. The thought of why those two strangers had been observing them kept distracting her, though...

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  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Otinan walked through Verbobonc's seat of government, quietly enjoying the aura of power the square projected. He made a mental note of the fey architecture still visible in some of the buildings, particularly the elven embassy. He kept walking until he noticed an angry mob outside the Keep. He watched from afar as the elves yelled at the guards, only picking up pieces of the argument. He was about to head for the elven embassy to ask about the commotion when one of his greatest fears came true.

    He was turning to walk away when an elf from the mob looked up and saw him, seeming to look right through him at something horrifying. The elf picked up a piece of stone and, before Otinan could react, tossed it at the nearest guard, barely missing his head. The guards, probably happy to have an excuse, lowered their shields and began to beat back the crowd. Several elves were viciously beaten before the crowd dispersed and the guards returned to their post as if nothing had happened. What was that thing about guards, again? Something about subtlety?

    Otinan himself stood perfectly still, terrified at what had taken place. He briefly contemplated leaving the city at once, but the mark on his hand told him otherwise. He decided then to make a blind run for the Inn cutting through the temple area to avoid the crowds of the market. With a wave of his hand Otinan conjured a loud *bang!* near the gnomish embassy, and ran off while the guards had their heads turned. The last thing he needed was to be mistaken for a fleeing rioter.

    He ran through the crowds, leaping over a crouched halfing and ducking between two arguing humans on his way out of the Governmental district. He couldn't help but feel unnerved by the way the elf looked at him, however. Even as he ran at breakneck speeds through the city streets searching for the temple district the thought plagued him. Could his cultist disguise really have worked that well? The elf had stared at him like he was the incarnation of death itself, not another spoony weirdo wearing a silly robe and chanting gibberis-

    His train of thought derailed as he ran headfirst into a dragonborn, nearly knocking them both over outside the gates to the Temple District. He was about to curse at him in a fake demonic tongue when he noticed that he was a paladin. You know, the ones who eat deranged worshipers for breakfast. Instead, he merely offered an apology in elven (hoping the dragonborn would see him as yet another stranger) and ran for the inn, focusing on running rather than pointless speculation.
    Spoiler:

  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Victor turns to the Dwarf as she speaks, listening intently and then thinking hard on her words. As he thinks, a look of worry and confusion starts to spread on his face.

    "Uh…well…hhrrmmm….uh….I don't think anyone has ever asked to be paid for failure…" He cocks his head to the side slightly and looks towards the ceiling, moving his hand to his chin as if to accentuate the fact that this is a puzzling question indeed. "I suppose should the Countess be unable to be helped or located, then the Viscount could see fit to part with 100gp, for your time. He would, of course, need some type of proof that a thorough investigation was done….of course…."

    Nodding to himself, Victor's expression turns to one indicating he is pleased with the way he responded. He then looks to the rest of the group with a look of anticipation.

  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Faergus had spent the night at the Chapter House, amazed at the opulence of the building. The walls gleamed white, gold leaf glinting along its edges. The men and women--his comrades--strode the halls in armor burnished till it shown, their weapons tasseled in peace bonds studded in white and yellow stones. Most impressive of all was the ceiling mosaic in the House chapel: glorious Pelor himself as Giver of Life. He'd asked about it, and one of the pages told him it was a work by the genius Davonius, the one who went mad.

    They had nothing like it at the Training Hall. The only thing that held him in awe there were the Arms Masters.

    The next time he stopped by home, he'd have to ask Uncle Herbert about Davonius. The gnome seemed to know everything about everyone and everyplace. Surely he'd say that there were more astounding sites in Greyhawk, but of course there would be, wouldn't there?

    The Dragonborn's ruminations on Uncle Herbert and his enigmatic background were brought to a sudden halt, quite literally.

    "Oof!"

    A man nearly sprawls as he runs headlong square into the Paladin's plated chest. And not just any man; someone familiar, from yesterday. The Shadowed Man, or that's what Faergus called him in the privacy of his own mind.

    And not a man at all, but an Elf. No, something else. Cousin to an Elf?

    Faergus reaches to help steady the fellow, but the man deftly avoids the touch, muttering something the Dragonborn didn't understand. "Are you all right," he begins to ask, but the Shadowed Man is already running.

    The Paladin looks the other way and sees no one chasing. What does he run from, he wonders.

    Mysteries. Life was full of them. He learned that truth early on; that the best questions brought mysteries and not answers at all. The Dragonborn smiled--well, this was one mystery he was willing to follow. The fellow run towards the Market District. Exactly the direction he was already heading.

    As Faergus sauntered down the street, he wondered at what Uncle Herbert and the rest of his kinsman would think of this newest mystery.
    Spoiler:

  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Otinan eventually made it to the inn, slowing down as he approached the large wagon wheel that marked the entrance. "Charming." He thought. "I'm sure to fit right in." He walked into the Broken Wheel, greeting the innkeeper and renting out a room. He would have ordered dinner too, but he noticed something that added to his already unnerved attitude; a dwarf seemed to be scanning the room. He decided to remain discreet, and retired to his room. He had a few day's supplies left anyway...

    He woke up the next morning and gingerly got out of bed. He quickly looked around the room...good. The inn was still intact. He had expected more of a disaster from staying in a city this big overnight. He couldn't get to comfortable, though. Not after what happened yesterday...

    Everyone else was already seated when he arrived. "Good," he thought., "they'll think I'm lazy." He prepared a cantrip, made sure his entire face was covered, and barged into the room, using ghost sound to grant his footsteps a sinister echo. He faced the small man on the podium the entire time, contributing to his already overwhelming anxiety. Not breaking eye contact for a second, he sat down in the nearest available seat and waited for the man to start his speech. Once the short, intensely worried man had begun his speech (not looking up from his notecards even once for fear of meeting Otinan's gaze), Otinan broke eye contact and relaxed a little, checking who else had followed the posting.

    It took him only a moment to noticed he hat sat directly between the dwarf and the paladin from yesterday. He was vaguely aware of the man taking questions as he thought of ways to derail the presentation and escape. Remembering the shouts of the elves outside of the Viscount's keep, he stood up. "I have a question, Seneschal." he said, gripping his wand with his right hand and his hood in the other. In one swift motion, he threw off his hood and pointed at Victor with his wand (although anyone trained in the arcane would know that he was holding it backwards), saying "How will you calm the public unrest among the elven people regarding the Countess' disappearance? The elves of Verbobonc throw rocks at your guards! What aren't you telling us?"
    Spoiler:

  • ReynoldsReynolds Superwoman Punch! Wrestlemania LXIIIRegistered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Valesti nodded at that. It made sense to her. She wouldn't shirk her duties, and was almost certain they wouldn't find the missing Countess. Enough gold to get by for a while and supplies for the trip seemed like a fair deal. She mulled things over for a few moments longer, enough time for the stranger to stand for his outburst.

    She stood herself once he began pointing that stick around, planning to simply change seats. Once Valesti had smoothed down her kilt, though, she realized there was no real reason to sit and listen to whatever he was yelling about. The Dwarf walked towards the official and his podium, nodding as she stood near the front of the room to wait. She kept an eye on the crowd, but did her best to ignore whatever argument might follow.
    Spoiler:

    sigield_zps5c29adc3.jpg
  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Quinn woke particularly early, gathered his things and performed his supplications. He crept out of the temple while the sun still lurked below the horizon, and made his way to the Broken Wheel Inn. The notice did not specify anything other than daybreak; like most things he resolved to be there early. He approached the inn, easily recognizable, and noticed that it was locked. A few minutes later, a large man with bony protrusions on his face and arms opened the door, holding a broom. With a start, he spotted Quinn near the stoop. "You must be one of those fellows here for the meeting, I can't say I expected any of you here so early" he said, as he began to sweep. "The meeting will be in a room at the end of the hall" he yawned, and motioned towards the entrance. Quinn thanked him and entered, making his way towards the back. It was set up seemingly for presentations or oration, and satisfied that there were no evil creatures lurking in the darkness, Quinn returned to the common area sat down.

    After a short while, a number of people entered the tavern. Quinn appraised each as they entered, while pretending to be absorbed in reading. Each bore a different manner, skulking, nervous, noble, eager. They all had secrets, but so did Quinn. He returned his ledger to his pack and made his way to the back of the room. He sat in a chair in the back corner, quietly moving it as close to the wall as possible, and surveying the other occupants. Fewer people than he had expected, and he did not recognize any other devotees of the cudgel. A short man began to speak at the podium, stuttering occasionally, and Quinn felt for him. Also in the room was a hooded figure, a female dwarf, an eladrin, a halfling and a dragonborn, as well as two men in an opposite corner who made him uneasy. The dwarf asked a question of the man concerning payment, which disappointed Quinn. But when the eladrin stood and pointed a wand towards the portly seneschal, Quinn felt his hand moving to the hilt of his sword. He palmed the end of it loosely, waiting for the eladrin to make a move. Eladrin were rare on the Flanaess, and his behavior was worrying. Quinn rose from his seat, and spoke to the mage (of this he was certain) in an even voice. Mustering all the power that he could, he said "Whatever you think he is not telling us, acting like a madman will get us nowhere, sit down and relax. I am certain the Seneschal would be happy to answer our questions without anyone resorting to violence, this is not the place for such things."
    Spoiler:

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
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  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Otinan paused for a second after hearing the man's words, then slowly lowered his wand. He really hadn't expected that, but the more anarchy in this little room the better, he supposed. "I was holding it backwards." He said, addressing the half-elf with the sword, "Sorry if I'm a bit on edge. I was only trying to get answers out of our gracious host here because I witnessed a mob of elves accusing the Viscount of kidnapping the Countess...and he seems unusually nervous." he paused for a second, then casually added "Also, I think the dragonborn is following me, and probably not for the best of reasons." Hopefully this situation would boil over soon enough, allowing him to flee the city before he started another riot...not counting the one in the orientation room, of course.
    Spoiler:

  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    "Backwards or not, wands can be dangerous, especially those who... need not draw upon them for power" Quinn responded, weighing his words carefully. He glanced at the dragon-like creature, strange as he was he seemed to be the least overtly dangerous person in the room. "I doubt that this fellow meant you any harm" he said, bowing his head slightly to the dragonborn. "In any event, it hardly makes sense for the seneschal to offer such a princely sum for the return of the countess if he were behind her disappearance. Seneschal, you may consider my skills to be yours, limited as they are. Whatever capacity I have to see her safe return, I shall exercise it and see the perpetrators brought to justice."
    Spoiler:

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
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  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Victor starts visibly as the hooded Eladrin stands and shouts. Then, when Otinan produces his wand, Victor freezes in place, a look of abject terror coming over him. His eyes dart to the exit, then he jumps again when the half-elf stands and speaks. Listening to Quinn's words, Victor noticeably relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief that makes him shudder slightly.

    He looks to Quinn directly. "Thank you, kind sir, both for your words and your support in this quest. The Viscount is an honorable man, and he most certainly had nothing to do with the Countess's disappearance."

    Shooting a look towards Otinan he continues and seeming to muster more courage than he's shown previously, he continues. "If your desire is to ease the fear and anger of the elven people, then I would suggest that you join with the others here and lend whatever aid you can to the cause."

    With each passing word, Victor seems to grow more confident. Also, you notice that his speech has lost the stutter and stammering that he had previously displayed. Looking back to the group, he points towards the young halfling sitting in the first row and concludes, "Now, if there no more questions, then Quallan here will take you to the stables, where mounts will be made available to you for your journey. Your task is of great importance to not only the Viscount, but to the stability of the entire Flanaess. Please send word the minute you have any news regarding the Countess, and the Viscount, myself, and the city of Verbobonc wish you luck."

    At the sound of his name the halfling, who until now had not really been paying attention to anything except a cricket hopping in the corner of the room, jumps out of his chair and comes to a rigid attention at the sound of his name, saluting the Seneschal with such force that he nearly knocks himself to the ground. "YES SIR! I WILL TAKE THEM TO THE STABLES IMMEDIATELY SIR!" Without waiting for a response, he starts to run out of the meeting room, grinning from ear to ear and skipping slightly.

    "Quallan!" Victor yells after him, then says in a much more subdued voice, "Wait for everyone else to gather their things, so they can follow you."

    Quallan snaps back to attention, replying "YES SIR! I WILL WAIT HERE UNTIL THEY ARE READY SIR!" He remains at attention, but the excitement is nearly too much for him to contain, and he starts bouncing slightly and giggling.

    OOC:
    Spoiler:

  • Alfonse_PalansoAlfonse_Palanso Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Standing to the left of the door, I lean in the corner chewing on my toothpick. After Victor mentions the countess's disappearance, the two men in the back leave the room quietly. I eye them suspiciously as they exit the room. I feel I should follow the two men, but I glance back to the rest of the company in the room.

    After most had their questions answered, and everyone had calmed down. He walks to the front row and leans on a chair with one foot in the seat. I look at Victor and ask, "Are we going to be the first round of your "Rescue" mission?" , "Or had there been a previous party, and we are here to replace them?". Alfonse quickly glances at the rest of party for any reactions.

    After slight pause, he returns to Victor to ask, "What cities or towns lie in between Verbobonc and the Elven Empire?" After feeling he's exhausted all questions, he returns to chewing on his toothpick, smiling in present company.

  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Faergus cast his eye over the inn's common room. The tables and chairs were well made, the floor clean, the customers eager for the food and drink. Nostalgia flooded through him, and he closed his eyes against it. He took a deep breath of the smoke and scents of food, and then let it go. He was a Paladin now. He always knew he would be. The Copper Pot and his kin would always be there for visiting, but his true home was now in his heart. Or so he'd been taught.

    The Dragonborn greets the innkeeper and wanders over to his bar. "This is a fine inn," he began. "My family runs an inn near Rolling Hills, so I know how much work it takes keeping a place like this."

    The Goliath replied, "Not just another adventurer then." The craggy face smiles, and the two of them talk the vagaries of the business, telling stories of cheating merchants and tom cats that refused to hunt.

    Well, it was a pleasant enough time, but there was a meeting to go to. In passing, Faergus asked the innkeep about the others who'd come before him. "Were any of them strange or unusual," he asked, which made them both laugh. What a pointless question to ask--it's in the nature of inns to have strange visitors. "I mean," he said, wiping away tears, "anything beyond the usual."

    Faergus took the Goliath's words with him to the back room. He found a seat near the Dwarf and listened to the Senechal's speech as he surveyed the room's occupants. What a curious group of people.

    And then the Shadowed Man entered, seeming oblivious to Faergus's presence. Down he sat, between Dwarf and Dragonborn, never taking his eyes off the Senechal. Alas, the poor fellow was likely mad. At least that was the impression he gave when he jumped up, waving a twig in the air, making accusations.

    "Hold on now," replied Faergus. "You were the one following me. You ran into me headlong on the street, and you followed me to this meeting." Well, and that wasn't strictly true. Faergus had been following him, but it wouldn't do for anyone else to know that.

    In fact, it might be best if the Paladin escorted him out of the inn before the fellow did any harm. Faergus felt he owed the Goliath and didn't want to see the furniture damaged.

    As he was about to intercede, fate did it for him. The Pained One had joined the meeting and soothed the fellow right down. Well and good. Order was restored.

    "I do have one question," he said, suddenly realizing that it was true. "What was the purpose of the Countess Tillahi's travel? Was she on a mission or carrying anything important?" It was something he'd wondered after his meeting with the Archcleric. It could be an important clue for why she was taken.

    He waited for the Senechal's reply and to see if anything else happened at this curious meeting. One thing was certain--it would likely be an eventful next few days.

  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Earlier - Out in the Bar
    Faergus and the Goliath have a rousing chat about the trials and tribulations of the common Innkeeper. Thalgran, as the Innkeeper introduces himself to Faergus while they are conversing, even bursts into laughter at some points when recounting some of the more humorous patrons that he has had. The laugh sounds more like an avalanche than anything else.

    Asked about those that have come before, Thalgran's face takes on a more introspective look. "Six have come before you. I would say that they are more or less what you would expect from adventurers. Armed to the teeth in some cases, cloaked in mysteriousness in others." He shrugs his shoulders, "The two that stayed here in the Inn, the Dwarf and the Eladrin, didn't cause any problems, which is more than I can say for most that frequent this Inn."


    In the Meeting Room
    Victor thinks carefully on the cloaked human's questions. "We had a previous note up for last week, but no one responded. So I guess that would mean you're the first." Victor's speech and mannerisms are much more confident at this point, knowing that he has succeeded in his task of getting at least one person to help.

    "Most people turn off the road at the fork to Dyvers, so there's not a lot of traffic or settlements between here and Enstad. The occasional farm or whatnot. I think the only settlement of any note at all is the village of Hommlet, which is about a day's ride south of the Dyvers Road."

    Turning to the dragonborn, Victor continues, "A Paladin of Pelor! This bodes well for our search! Countess Tillahi often traveled between Enstad and Verbobonc on official business of the Elven Empire. She's a trusted member of the Elven Court, which makes her disappearance more troubling. As far as I know her trip was the same one she had taken countless times before. There were some heated discussions in the Assembly about the treatment of Elves in Veluna, but there are often such squabbles among politicians. Truly her disappearance, especially without a request for ransom, is something akin to a mystery."


    OOC: Diplomacy Checks
    Spoiler:

  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Spoiler:

  • Alfonse_PalansoAlfonse_Palanso Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Spoiler:

  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Seeing that everyone is now ready to follow him, Quallan nearly tumbles over with excitement. He hops and skips out of the meeting room and down the hallway to the main room of the Inn, waving wildly to the Goliath; who barely has time to look up from the bar before the halfling is out of the door.

    Quallan moves quite quickly through the streets. He runs on ahead, then stops and runs back to the group, always a huge grin on his face. It seems as though his life's dream is simply to walk you to the stables. The streets are still quiet, though there are signs of life and movement in the Market. Shops are starting to open their doors and windows, and set wares outside. Stalls along the roads are being setup, ready to accept shoppers that are out early.

    Following along after the bounding halfling you reach a large stables near the main gates. A stablehand is milling around outside. Quallan runs up to him and, pointing excitedly to the crest of Verbobonc on his chest, begins speaking in what you expect he thinks is a formal voice, but in actuality is more of a shout, "BY ORDER OF THE VISCOUNT OF VERBOBONC, THESE ADVENTURERS ARE TO BE PROVIDED WITH MOUNTS OF THEIR CHOICE, AND A WEEK'S PROVISIONS!" At the same time, he produces a slightly crumpled scroll from his pocket and hands it to the man.

    The stablehand, also wearing a tunic with the crest of the city, looks suspiciously at the halfling then turns his attention to the missive. Reading it over, he nods his head and looks to the group. "Well, this 'ere is certainly the seal of the 'ead man himself, so I'm a-guessin' you get the run o' the place."

    Leading you inside, the stablehand shouts to a boy who is carrying hay, "Brandon! This lot needs feed and rations for a week. Hop to it!" The boy puts the hay down and starts putting together the requested provisions. Turning back to the group, the stablehand points to a long row of stables, each containing a horse, "Pick out a horse for yerself. Riding horses are there, and Warhorses are o'er there. You'll not find a better horse anywhere in the city."

    Hearing the dwarf protest to the use of a mount, the stablehand has Brandon place her rations in a backpack and hand it to her. The rest is placed in saddlebags and onto the horses chosen by the adventurers. Thusly equipped, the party sets out from the gates of Verbobonc, heading south.

  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Passing out of the gates, and past a few rows of market stalls that are just starting to come to life, you head out onto the road. The path is wide and well-maintained. The sun is starting to shine, and there are a few clouds in the sky. The temperature has warmed a little, and there is an overall sense of calm to the world. The city falls away behind you as the miles roll by, and all you see are lush green grasslands with a slight breeze causing the grass to sway.

    As the afternoon deepens, the plains give way to rolling hills and deep grass, with the occasional group of large oak trees, and the grade changes slightly as you start to gain elevation, signaling that you have entered the Kron Hills. The road has been completely clear of travelers to this point, and the only life you've seen besides yourself is the occasional herd of gazelles or wild oxen off in the distance.

    As you contemplate when or where to stop for the night, you notice a waft of smoke up ahead. Looking more closely, you see a wagon a couple of hundred yards ahead which is burning steadily in the darkening sky. Coming closer still, you see that there is a skirmish taking place in front of the burning wagon. Several men wearing all black and brandishing maces are locked in combat with others that are dressed in common clothing. Off to one side of the road near the burning wagon is a cloaked figure on horseback who appears to be watching the events unfold. You can see that two of the commoners have already fallen to the ground, and it looks like the mace-wielding aggressors are starting to gain the upper hand. So far none of the combatants seem to have noticed your approach.
    Roll Initiative!

    Features/Notes:
    Spoiler:

  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Spoiler:

  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Quinn remains on his warhorse. Spying the fallen commoners, his jaw clenches as he draws his sword, glaring at the cloaked figures. He moves swiftly to engage the potential enemy.
    Spoiler:

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
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  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    "Ware the trap," said Faergus, but it was too late. The Paladin of Cuthbert was already away charging the figures in black. The Dragonborn bites off a quick, "Careful of an ambush," before he too kicks his charger into the fray. He'd bet Uncle Dorid's best summer wine there were more enemies hiding in the tall grass.
    Spoiler:

  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Otinan shook his head a little as the two paladins charged into the fray, their horses galloping like mad to reach the enemy. "Corellon almighty, I didn't realize paladins were actually like this." He paused for a moment before a thought came to him, "...I should probably go help them, shouldn't I?" Kicking his horse and gripping his wand, he followed them into battle...from a safe distance, of course.
    Spoiler:

  • ReynoldsReynolds Superwoman Punch! Wrestlemania LXIIIRegistered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Valesti saw most of the others hurriedly approaching the scene, but she was never that hasty. Freeing a pair of axes, she took the time to fully examine the scene. Otinan and Faergus seemed as wary as her, although they still moved forward. Something off to the side caught her eye, although nobody else seemed to notice. If they needed her help after all, distance wouldn't be much of a problem anyways.

    She moved off to the side of the road, following it as far as she can before entering the tall grass. None of the others involved quite knew they were coming, so she might as well be quiet about her exploration in case she wandered into someone - or something - inhospitable.
    Spoiler:

    sigield_zps5c29adc3.jpg
  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    The Roads Are Clear? Round 1

    Seeing the melee unfold before them, the party begins to ride forward. The combatants still appear to not notice anyone approaching, as they continue to try and attack eachother. The leader appears nonchalant, with an arm cast idly over the pommel of his saddle.

    OOC:
    Spoiler:

    Map (Round 1):
    Spoiler:

    Initiative:
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    Stats:
    Spoiler:

    Features:
    Spoiler:

    [ Up Next: Alfonse, Quinn, Otinan][On Deck: ????]

  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Otinan moved a bit ahead of the paladins, hoping to catch the thieves off guard before his friends galloped into the middle of them screaming. He spotted a few of them bunched up and stopped his horse, drawing his wand like one would a sword. He conjured a bit of fire near near where the ruffians' leader (he looked like their leader anyway) stood, and moving his wand in the air like a symphony conductor, sent it flying up in the air before smashing it down at the leader's feet, creating a scorching blast of fire. Although the commander's warhorse reared up and dodged the wave of heat, the leader himself wasn't so lucky...or so the screaming seemed to indicate.

    The poor man fighting with his back to the blast had it worse though. The force of the spell knocked him forward in the air, impaling him on the sword of the commoner he was fighting. He died in seconds.
    Spoiler:

    [Up Next: Alfonse and Quinn][On Deck: Ruffians]

  • Alfonse_PalansoAlfonse_Palanso Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Alfonse heads up the right hand side of the road with his riding horse, pulls a shuriken and attempts to wipe the smug look off of the Leaders face.
    Spoiler:

    [Up Next:Quinn][On Deck: Ruffians]

    After unleashing the shuriken upon the toasted leader, I chew on my tooth-pick with a smile, but not for long. Now, I'm pretty sure I've been noticed. I need to find some concealment, perhaps into the tall grass that is next to me.

  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Seeing an enemy fall before him, and the apparent leader of the bandits beaten badly, Quinn took a moment to appraise the situation. He moved his horse up and compelled the bandit leader ignore the bruising he just faced, and then attempted to smack this unsavory character in the face.
    Spoiler:

    [Up Next: Quinn][On Deck: Ruffians]

    Having missed, Quinn glares at the leader and says "stand down, this is a losing battle for you."

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
    lj_graaaaahhhhh.gif
  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    The Roads are Clear? Round 1.25

    Jolting upright and screaming in pain as he is engulfed by flames, the cloaked rider's horse rears and bucks, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. Regaining his composure, the man turns to see the party bearing down on him. He opens his mouth to shout, only to have a shuriken bury itself in his chest. Slumping forward slightly, he takes a deep breath to try and clear his mind of the pain. As he looks back up, he sees the half-elf on a warhorse charging in. Regaining his balance just in time, he's able to steer the warhorse away from Quinn's blow.

    Looking to Quinn directly, the man sneers and spits at him, "A losing battle? You had best take stock of your surroundings, half-breed."

    Then shouting over Quinn's head, the man says, "Look to it, boys! These are the ones we've been waiting for! Stop dallying about with those peasants and take the fight to them! Archers, spring the trap!"

    At the sound of their commander, several men stand up from the deep grass on either side of the road and train their longbows on the party. You can also see more mace-wielding ruffians emerging from behind the burning wagon.

    The archers take aim, each picking a different target. The first trains his bow on Quinn and fires a shot, the arrow burying itself in the half-elf's back . The next spies the robe-wearing Wizard and unleashes an arrow, taking a chunk out of Otinan's shoulder. The final archer shoots towards the rogue, hitting him squarely in the side with a sickening thump.

    The man laughs mockingly as the arrow hits the bard. "It appears The Lost Cudgel cannot be bothered to save his bastard followers today. Your quest to free the Countess will end with your death here, at my hands. Praise to the Old One!"

    Passive Religion (Quinn): SUCCESS
    Spoiler:

    Archers' Moves
    Spoiler:

    Map (Round 1.25):
    Spoiler:

    Initiative:
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    Stats:
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    Features:
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    [ Up Next: Valesti, Faergus][On Deck: Ruffians, Leader, Commoners, Round 2]

  • ReynoldsReynolds Superwoman Punch! Wrestlemania LXIIIRegistered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Valesti steadily moved forward toward the disturbance in the tall grass, seeming not at all surprised as archers spring out of hiding. The ones with arrows sticking out of them were probably regretting their high perches right about now, not to mention thundering straight into the thick of things. There was nothing to do about it but follow along, of course. She might not know them too well, but, if they fell, these bandits would obviously turn their attention to her. From what their leader had been shouting it sounded like these men were after everyone involved in the investigation.

    Hurrying now as she slipped past Alfonse, careful of the beast he was riding, she drew two axes and tossed one into the tall grass towards the nearest archer. It must have gotten lost somewhere in the brush, since the archer still didn't seem to notice she was there. Now Valesti would have to remember to retrieve the blasted thing later. If she had the chance.
    Spoiler:
    [Up Next : Faergus] [On Deck : Ruffians, Leader, Commoners, Round 2]

    sigield_zps5c29adc3.jpg
  • 3seed3seed Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    "Cuttlefish in a bucket," Faergus murmured. Why was it always archers in the long grass? And which way to go? He had a wounded companion (no matter how new) on the right, but a greater threat on the left. Loathe as he was to leave the injured untended, it would be better to take the long road and think ahead.

    Decision made, he kicked his horse to the left; longsword flashing with divine energy to strike at the closer of the two archers. The bowman reeled under the assault, catching the attention of nearby enemies. They would either face him or Pelor's wrath.

    "There's no where to hide under the sun!" mocked Faergus.
    Spoiler:

  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Quinn glances behind him and shouts at his companions on the road, "Dwarf, rogue, get over here, NOW" in a thunderous voice, and then turns his attention to the man on the horse.
    Spoiler:

    Quinn grins as Otinan downs one of the cloaked minions and says "a fine shot Eladrin, there may be use for you yet."

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
    lj_graaaaahhhhh.gif
  • IlliantharIllianthar Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    The Roads are Clear? Round 2

    With a collective shout, the bandits rush forward, choosing to cluster around the paladin and the bard. Faergus and Quinn manage to fend off most of the assault, but one of the ruffians is able to land a blow to the Dragonborn's leg.

    Sensing that the focus is off of them, one of the commoners turns to the other and says "Shaemus, they're distracted by these newcomers. Let's get the hell out of here before they notice us again!" With that, he runs off into the grass.

    Shaemus turns to follow, then thinks better of it and turns back, a look of rage taking over his features. "I'll be damned if I'm running away from these bastards. Attack my kin? Burn my wagon? I will kill you myself, Avandra help me!" Raising his club, he steps in behind one of the ruffians and brings the weapon down onto the bandit's skull with a satisfying crack. A momentary look of confusion passes over the bandit's face, and then he crumples to the floor. "Take that, son of a swine-herder!" he yells triumphantly, and looks to the next opponent.

    Seeing a lowly peasant attacking his troops, the cloaked figure throws back his cowl and cries out "None shall oppose the might of Iuz the Old. Tremble at his power!" Accompanying his words is a wave of fear and doubt that engulfs Shaemus and Quinn, leaving them distracted and rooted in place.


    Moves and Actions
    Spoiler:
    Map (Round 2):
    Spoiler:

    Initiative:
    Spoiler:

    Stats:
    Spoiler:

    Features:
    Spoiler:

    [Up Next: Alfonse, Quinn, Otinan][On Deck: Archers]

  • Bp1580Bp1580 Registered User
    edited April 2011
    Otinan barely reacted as the arrow hit his side; perhaps the paladin's words had healed him somehow? He felt far more lust for vengeance than he did pain, anyway. Upon looking at the archer though, he realized something; he was lining up a shot at Faergus, who was far too busy to react. Gripping his wand tightly and channeling a focus that was almost painful, he created another fiery shockwave behind the three ruffians. Although two of them died instantly, the third survived the spell, sailing past the dragonborn just as the archer let loose his arrow.

    The results were rather spectacular, with the man's head "intercepting" the arrow meant for the paladin. Otinan nodded in the archer's direction when he turned to look at him, hoping he'd take the hint.

    Spoiler:

    [Up Next: Alfonse & Quinn] [[On Deck: Two Archers (and one Scared Man with a Bow)]

  • LitejediLitejedi Registered User regular
    edited April 2011
    Quinn spat out some blood and swung at the mounted figure. "You'll have to do better than that to take me down."
    Spoiler:

    [Up Next: Alfonse] [[On Deck: Two Archers (and one Scared Man with a Bow)]

    3DS FC: 1907-9450-1017
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