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."
Standard Action: Basic Melee Attack
Move Action: Stand there
Attack Roll [1d20+4 = 16+4 = 20] Damage Roll [1d20+10 = 1+10 = 11]
[Up Next: Bobby Joe][On Deck: Chuck Norris] (or red for enemies)
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
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.
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.
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_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.
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
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
PATOEE
Posts
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:
Feel free to adapt and create as you see fit within the framework of the above. The city of Verbobonc is fairly malleable, so if you want to add the name of a merchant/shop/etc, feel free to do so. Once everyone has had a chance to reach the Inn, I'll move the action forward.
A calendar for Greyhawk can be found here.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
A large, gated structure that looks to be a mini-fortress unto itself, the keep's walls are heavily patrolled by guards. As you make your way around the plaza, you notice that there are several guards positioned outside the gates, armed with clubs and tower shields, forming two solid ranks. In front of these guards are a group of about 10 elves, most dressed in common clothing, who look to be protesting about something. They are shouting up at the guards, and you catch bits and pieces of what is being said, mostly centering around "WE KNOW YOU HAVE HER" and "RELEASE THE COUNTESS!" Despite the obvious hostility in the air, both sides appear to be keeping a reasonable distance and not being hostile. That is, until something very strange happens.
One of the elves suddenly stops shouting at the guards, going completely rigid with a look of sheer terror on their face. They then reach down and pick up a large stone from the courtyard and turns and looks directly at you for a moment. While he is looking at you, you get the feeling that he is not seeing you, but rather looking through you at something beyond. Then he turns back and hurls the stone at the nearest guard, smashing it into the tower shield.
The act of violence sparks both sides to action. The elves start to storm the gates, and the guards move forward to squelch the threat. After a few are beaten back with clubs, the elves all run out of the plaza. The guards move back to their posts, though they keep their weapons at the ready, looking around for further threats.
Valesti:
The main room of the Inn is quite small, having only a bar, a few tables and a fireplace. Stairs lead up to the next floor, and a pair of hallways lead out of the main room, one going past the bar, and the other exiting near the fireplace. The furniture is all wooden, and appears to be polished quite regularly. The stone fireplace is currently dormant, and the hearth is clean of ash. The only occupant of the room is a massive goliath behind the bar. Standing a full eight feet tall with mottled gray skin and wearing a simple tunic and apron, the giant is currently holding a mug gingerly between two fingers while wiping it out with a rag. He looks up at you and stares for a moment with what feels like the impassiveness of a mountain. After a few moments, he puts the mug down and, with a voice that sounds like gravel being poured out of a barrel, says "Welcome, small one, to the Broken Wheel Inn. We are currently serving beef and potatoes for dinner, for 2 silver, and the cost of a room is 5 silver. We also have a common room down the hallway next to the fireplace that is 5 copper per night." He pauses momentarily then adds, almost as an afterthought, "Oh yes, how can I help you?"
After ordering your meal and sitting down to eat, you turn to watching the surroundings. You take note of a pair of other employees, both human. One looks to be the cook, and the only appearance that he makes is to bring you your food. The other is a young boy who is set about cleaning the various furnishings. He is going through great lengths to polish each table and chair. The goliath remains behind the bar, continuing to clean the mugs. Despite his massive girth, he moves easily behind the bar, and never drops or breaks any of the glassware.
As the day wears on, a few people come in and out. Some of these walk past the barkeep and up the stairs, with the goliath giving them a solemn nod. A few others, of varied races and mostly wearing the garb of merchants, order food and sit at the bar, chatting about their fortunes in the market that day.
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
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):
After Victor mentions the countess's disappearance, the two men in the back leave the room quietly.
Passive Insight (Valesti):
The two men seemed to be paying attention only to the others in the room, and not listening to Victor in the slightest.
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...
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.
!ready to show up at the Inn after the next master post type thing.
"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.
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.
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?"
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.
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."
Quinn then makes a diplomacy check: Result = 33
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:
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.
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.
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
Quinn - Victor has warmed up to the room in general, and to you in particular.
Faergus - The Innkeeper provides all the opinion he has on the people that have come before you
Once I have that, I'll be !Ready.
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.
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.
Features/Notes:
Surprise: Noone notices the party at this time. You each can take a single action outside of the initiative order. Dismounting is considered a standard action, though you can stay mounted and still make attacks. If anyone wants more info on Mounted Combat, please let me know.
Distance: The party is currently ~100 feet from the burning wagon.
Path: The path is packed dirt, but well maintained
Deep Grass: 10 feet off the path to each side the grass gets extremely tall and thick. Those squares are rough terrain, and grant concealment to anyone in them.
Burning Wagon: The wagon is ablaze, and starting to fall apart. Those squares are considered rough terrain, and anyone starting their turn or moving into a square that contains burning debris takes 3 fire damage.
Since I'm going after Quinn, I'll post my action after him.
Also, I'm including a link to the warhorse here for my own reference.
If possible, Quinn will
Charge any enemy within range, preferring targets engaged with the "commoners", moving at his horse's speed of 8, and at the end of the charge using the encounter power "Virtuous Strike" as the melee basic attack.
If this is possible, he will roll and edit the post to indicate the attack roll.
OR
If no enemies are in range, Quinn will
Move 8 squares towards the closest enemy, preferring targets engaged with the "commoners."
Also, if possible, Faergus will scan the grasses on either side checking for enemies,
and it's doubtful he sees anything... 1d20+2 6
Initiative Roll: 1d20+3 → [14,3] = (17)
Move Action: Move 2 squares left and 6 squares up.
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.
Init Roll : 1d20+4=12 Stealth Roll : 1d20+8=10
[Up Next : Alfonse][On Deck : Quinn] Without knowledge of enemy Init for next round.
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:
Map (Round 1):
Initiative:
Quinn: [URL=" http://4e.orokos.com/roll/38782"]19[/URL]
Otinan: [URL=" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2981400/"]17[/URL]
????: 15 average
Valesti: [URL=" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2981783/"]12[/URL]
Faergus: [URL=" http://4e.orokos.com/roll/38776"]11[/URL]
Ruffians: 9 average
Commoners: 8 average
Leader: 5
(Since there's going to be a number of identical monsters, I decided to take the average of each monster’s initiative, just to help reduce the complexities of facing off more than 5 enemies in the initiative bar. )
Here's how it goes: Allies/enemies take turns out of order in a group/block. So if 3 PCs are in a block together before an enemy goes, those 3 can take their turns in any order. Then the enemies go that are in a block, then the next set of PCs go.
Stats:
(Q6 - R7) Faergus: HP 29/29
(S6 - T7) Otinan: HP 21/21
(O8 - P9) Quinn: HP 28/28
-5 to all attacks until Start of Next Turn
Grants CA until Start of Next Turn
(V2) Valesti: HP 26/26
(B4) Ruffian 1: HP 1/1
(D7) Ruffian 2: HP 1/1
(F8) Ruffian 3: HP 1/1
(D10 - E11) Leader: HP 55/55
Monster Details
Ruffian: HP 1/1 (a missed attack never damages a minion) AC 15; Fort 13; Reflex 11; Will 11; Speed 6; Vision: Normal
Special:
+2 to all defenses while at least two other Ruffians are within 5 squares
Leader: HP 55/55; AC 18; Fort 16; Reflex 16; Will 17; Speed 6 (8 Mounted); Vision: Normal
I posted the coordinates of everyone as well, making it easier to plan your attacks (Letter, then number).
Another way to make it easier is to post what monster you hit e.g. Melee Basic attack on Grunt(F5)
Features:
Deep Grass: 10 feet off the path to each side the grass gets extremely tall and thick. Those squares are rough terrain, and grant concealment to anyone in them.
Burning Wagon: The wagon is ablaze, and starting to fall apart. Those squares are considered rough terrain, and anyone starting their turn or moving into a square that contains burning debris takes 3 fire damage.
COLOR="Lime"] Up Next: Alfonse, Quinn, Otinan[/COLORCOLOR="Red"]On Deck: ????[/COLOR
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.
Minor Action: Draw Accurate Wand
Standard Action: Scorching Burst on F9
Attack Rolls:
Ruffian: 15 vs. Ref = HIT!
Leader: 17 vs. Ref = HIT!
Leader's Horse: 8 = Miss
Damage Rolls
Ruffian: 10 damage. DEAD!
Leader: 11 damage. 44 HP remaining.
COLOR="Lime"]Up Next: Alfonse and Quinn[/COLORCOLOR="Red"]On Deck: Ruffians[/COLOR
Minor Action: Draw Shuriken
Standard Action: Sly Flourish on Leader
Attack Rolls:
Leader: 24+(-2penalty) vs. AC18 = HIT!
Damage Rolls
Leader: 18 damage. 26 HP remaining.
COLOR="Lime"]Up Next:Quinn[/COLORCOLOR="Red"]On Deck: Ruffians[/COLOR
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.
Minor Action: Use Encounter Power "Divine Challenge" on apparent leader
Standard Action: Charge apparent leader, using the encounter power "Virtuous Strike" replacing the melee basic attack.
Attack Rolls:
Leader: 1d20+6 vs. 18 AC = 12 (MISS)
In addition, my character never does "lethal damage" to any humanoid creature.
COLOR="Lime"]Up Next: Quinn[/COLORCOLOR="red"]On Deck: Ruffians[/COLOR
Having missed, Quinn glares at the leader and says "stand down, this is a losing battle for you."
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
Archers' Moves
Move Action: Stand up
Standard Action: Longbow vs. Alfonse
Ranged 20/40; +7 vs. AC; 1d10+4 damage
Damage Roll: 12
Free Action: Reload
Archer 2:
Move Action: Stand up
Standard Action: Longbow vs. Otinan
Ranged 20/40; +7 vs. AC; 1d10+4 damage
Damage Roll: 6
Free Action: Reload
Archer 3:
Move Action: Stand up
Standard Action: Longbow vs. Quinn
Ranged 20/40; +7 vs. AC; 1d10+4 damage
Damage Roll: 11
Free Action: Reload
Map (Round 1.25):
Initiative:
Quinn: [URL=" http://4e.orokos.com/roll/38782"]19[/URL]
Otinan: [URL=" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2981400/"]17[/URL]
Human Archers: 15 average
Valesti: [URL=" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2981783/"]12[/URL]
Faergus: [URL=" http://4e.orokos.com/roll/38776"]11[/URL]
Ruffians: 9 average
Commoners: 8 average
Leader: 5
(Since there's going to be a number of identical monsters, I decided to take the average of each monster’s initiative, just to help reduce the complexities of facing off more than 5 enemies in the initiative bar. )
Here's how it goes: Allies/enemies take turns out of order in a group/block. So if 3 PCs are in a block together before an enemy goes, those 3 can take their turns in any order. Then the enemies go that are in a block, then the next set of PCs go.
Stats:
-Bloodied!
(Q6 - R7) Faergus: HP 29/29
(L6 - M7) Otinan: HP 15/21
(H10 - I11) Quinn: HP 17/28
(V2) Valesti: HP 26/26
(B4) Ruffian 1: HP 1/1
(D7) Ruffian 2: HP 1/1
[STRIKE](F8) Ruffian 3: HP 1/1[/STRIKE]DEAD!
(A3) Ruffian 4: HP 1/1
(B5) Ruffian 5: HP 1/1
(A10) Ruffian 6: HP 1/1
(A12) Ruffian 7: HP 1/1
(G2) Archer 3: HP 32/32
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(J2) Archer 2: HP 32/32
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(J13) Archer 1: HP 32/32
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(D10 - E11) Leader: HP 27/55
-Marked by Quinn
-Bloodied!
Monster Details
Ruffian: HP 1/1 (a missed attack never damages a minion) AC 15; Fort 13; Reflex 11; Will 11; Speed 6; Vision: Normal
Special:
+2 to all defenses while at least two other Ruffians are within 5 squares
Leader: HP 55/55; AC 18; Fort 16; Reflex 16; Will 17; Speed 6 (8 Mounted); Vision: Normal
Archer: HP 32/32; AC 15; Fort 11; Reflex 13; Will 12; Speed 7; Vision: Normal
I posted the coordinates of everyone as well, making it easier to plan your attacks (Letter, then number).
Another way to make it easier is to post what monster you hit e.g. Melee Basic attack on Grunt(F5)
Features:
Deep Grass: 10 feet off the path to each side the grass gets extremely tall and thick. Those squares are rough terrain, and grant concealment to anyone in them.
Burning Wagon: The wagon is ablaze, and starting to fall apart. Those squares are considered rough terrain, and anyone starting their turn or moving into a square that contains burning debris takes 3 fire damage.
COLOR="Lime"] Up Next: Valesti, Faergus[/COLOR[On Deck: Ruffians, Leader, Commoners, Round 2]
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.
Action Point : Move Action : Move to R11.
Move Action : Move to M11.
Standard Action : Nimble Strike on Archer (J13). Shift to L11 before attack.
Attack Roll : 1d20+7-2=11 with Prime Shot Vs AC 15, miss.
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.
Move Action: Ride to J3
Standard Action: Valorous Smite against Archer J2 and Archer G2
Valorous Smite vs AC: 2#1d20+8 25 10 2d8+5 18
Archer J2 Hit for 18 damage; subject to Divine Sanction. All enemies within 3 squares are also subject Divine Sanction: Archer G2.
Divine Sanction: targets that don't include Faergus in their attacks take 8 points of radiant damage.
color="Red"][b]Up Next : Ruffians,[/color] [COLOR="Cyan"]Commoners,[/COLOR] [COLOR="Red"]Leader[/COLOR][/b] [[b][COLOR="Lime"]On Deck:[/COLOR] Round 2, [color="Lime"]Quinn, Alphonse, Otinan[/COLOR] [/b
Immediate Interrupt: Otinan was the recipient of four temporary hit points when he knocked out the minion, as he fulfilled all of my criteria (within 5 squares, first downed enemy of the round). Since he was damaged in the initiative order AFTER he received the temporary hit points, his real hit points should be increased by four, as the arrow did only two real damage. I'll be posting reminders like this for my virtue of valor.
Quinn grins as Otinan downs one of the cloaked minions and says "a fine shot Eladrin, there may be use for you yet."
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
Move Action: Move to F4
Standard Action: Charge Attack vs. Faergus (Move to I4)
+6 vs. AC; 4 damage
Ruffian 4:
Move Action: Move to G4
Standard Action: Charge Attack vs. Faergus (Move to I3)
+6 vs. AC; 4 damage
Damage: Faergus takes 4 damage.
Ruffian 5:
Move Action: Move to G5
Standard Action: Charge Attack vs. Faergus (Move to I5)
+6 vs. AC; 4 damage
Damage Roll: [URL=""][/URL]
Ruffian 2:
Move Action: Move to F9 (Commoners forego their OAs)
Standard Action: Mace vs. Quinn
+6 vs. AC; 4 damage
Ruffian 6:
Move Action: Move to E9
Standard Action: Mace vs. Quinn
+6 vs. AC; 4 damage
Ruffian 7:
Move Action: Move to C12
Standard Action: Charge vs. Quinn (Move to E12)
+6 vs. AC; 4 damage
Commoners' Actions
Move Action: Move to A2
Shaemus:
Move Action: Shift to F8
Standard Action: Club vs. Ruffian 2
+5 vs. AC; 5 damage
Damage: Ruffian takes 5 damage and dies
Leader's Actions
Standard Action: Furious Glare (F8 - H10)
Requirement: Must be bloodied
Close blast 3 (enemies in blast); +8 vs. Will
Hit: Target is immobilized and grants combat advantage (save ends both).
Attack Roll (Shaemus): 1d20+8 vs. Will (11) = 26 HIT!
Quinn and Shaemus are immobilized and grant CA (save ends both)
Initiative:
Quinn: [URL=" http://4e.orokos.com/roll/38782"]19[/URL]
Otinan: [URL=" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2981400/"]17[/URL]
Human Archers: 15 average
Valesti: [URL=" http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2981783/"]12[/URL]
Faergus: [URL=" http://4e.orokos.com/roll/38776"]11[/URL]
Ruffians: 9 average
Shaemus and Bill: 8 average
Leader: 5
(Since there's going to be a number of identical monsters, I decided to take the average of each monster’s initiative, just to help reduce the complexities of facing off more than 5 enemies in the initiative bar. )
Here's how it goes: Allies/enemies take turns out of order in a group/block. So if 3 PCs are in a block together before an enemy goes, those 3 can take their turns in any order. Then the enemies go that are in a block, then the next set of PCs go.
Stats:
-Bloodied!
(Q6 - R7) Faergus: HP 25/29
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(L6 - M7) Otinan: HP 19/21
(H10 - I11) Quinn: HP 17/28
-Immobilized and grants CA (save ends both)
(V2) Valesti: HP 26/26
(I4) Ruffian 1: HP 1/1
[STRIKE](D7) Ruffian 2: HP 1/1[/STRIKE] DEAD!
[STRIKE](F8) Ruffian 3: HP 1/1[/STRIKE] DEAD!
(I3) Ruffian 4: HP 1/1
(I5) Ruffian 5: HP 1/1
(E9) Ruffian 6: HP 1/1
(E12) Ruffian 7: HP 1/1
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(G2) Archer 3: HP 14/32
-Bloodied!
-Divine Sanction: Faergus
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(J2) Archer 2: HP 32/32
-Divine Sanction: Faergus
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(J13) Archer 1: HP 32/32
-Concealment (-2 to melee/ranged attacks against this target)
(D10 - E11) Leader: HP 27/55
-Marked by Quinn
-Bloodied!
(A2) Bill: HP 1/1
(F9) Shaemus: HP 1/1
-Immobilized and grants CA (save ends both)
Monster Details
Ruffian: HP 1/1 (a missed attack never damages a minion) AC 15; Fort 13; Reflex 11; Will 11; Speed 6; Vision: Normal
Special:
+2 to all defenses while at least two other Ruffians are within 5 squares
Leader: HP 55/55; AC 18; Fort 16; Reflex 16; Will 17; Speed 6 (8 Mounted); Vision: Normal
Archer: HP 32/32; AC 15; Fort 11; Reflex 13; Will 12; Speed 7; Vision: Normal
I posted the coordinates of everyone as well, making it easier to plan your attacks (Letter, then number).
Another way to make it easier is to post what monster you hit e.g. Melee Basic attack on Grunt(F5)
Features:
Deep Grass: 10 feet off the path to each side the grass gets extremely tall and thick. Those squares are rough terrain, and grant concealment to anyone in them.
Burning Wagon: The wagon is ablaze, and starting to fall apart. Those squares are considered rough terrain, and anyone starting their turn or moving into a square that contains burning debris takes 3 fire damage.
COLOR="Lime"]Up Next: Alfonse, Quinn, Otinan[/COLORCOLOR="Red"]On Deck: Archers[/COLOR
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.
Attack Rolls:
Ruffian 1: 12* vs. Ref = Hit!
Ruffian 2: 12 vs. Ref = Miss!
Ruffian 3: 15 vs. Ref = Hit!
Damage Roll: 7
Double Kill!
*
COLOR="Lime"]Up Next: Alfonse & Quinn[/COLOR COLOR="Red"][On Deck: Two Archers (and one Scared Man with a Bow)[/COLOR
Attack Roll: 1d20+5 = 15 MISS!
Move Action: None
Minor Action: None
Otinan, acting immediately after my turn, is the recipient of four temporary hit points.
Saving Throw vs. Immobilize/Combat Advantage: 19 (SUCCESS!)
COLOR="Lime"]Up Next: Alfonse[/COLOR [[On Deck: Two Archers (and one Scared Man with a Bow)]