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[DnD 5E PbP] 28 Weeks Later (Game starts back up on page 9)



  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    Hey everybody, I'm sorry that this thing keeps dying! There was a big issue at work that I've finally solved, so I'm ready to get back to this. I'm going to give you equipment and such by the end of this week and make a starting post by Monday. For reals this time!

    Mongrel IdiotRainfall
  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    edited March 2016
    I'm on the fence now, I've already had my heart broken twice. :sad:

    Edit: But I understand that you've got to put much more in this to make it work than I do, so I'll give it a shot instead of bailing on the cusp of glory.

    Fuselage on
  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    I'd love to get in on this if I could!

    Anything in particular we need in the party? A Fighter maybe? Barbarian?

  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited March 2016
    Die Rolls for Character Creation:
    Geth, roll 5d12+10 For HP Past Level 1
    Geth, roll 2d4x10 for Starting gold
    Geth, roll 1d10x25+500 for Extra gold

    FYI: I'm trying to put together a TWF Dwarf Barbarian...FTR1/BAR5...with the noble background. Lets see how this works.

    HP Past Level 1:
    5d12+10 35 [5d12=2, 7, 5, 5, 6]
    Starting gold:
    2d4x10 0 [2d4x10=1, 3]
    Extra gold:
    1d10x25+500 500 [1d10x25=2]

    Steelhawk on
  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    For Your Consideration: Stromboli "Strom" Barrelbutt


    Strom is the 4th son of the Dwarf Lord Bollux Barrelbutt. The youngest son....and the one with the most wasted potential. Small but rich, Clan Barrelbutt made its fortune in the production and distribution of the finest mushroom based Spirits this side of the Mississippi. A bonus to any buyer of spirits was the exquisite quality of the barrels it was shipped in. All of Bollox's children are involved in the business is some fashion. Spiritmaker, barrel manufacture, delivery...Stromboli and his sister Strombella were assigned to "Unusual Sales"...which meant that they were to go out into the wider world and sell their product to other races. Humans, gnomes, Halfings...Strombella's crowning glory was a sale of three casks to the Elves. Elves!

    Strom is a terrible sales dwarf. He relishes the opportunity to hit the road with this sister, but usually tanks half the sales she makes with his loutish behavior, ridiculous appearance and tendency to punch clients in the face while drunk. Strom really only comes into his own when beset by trouble on the road. Then his skills in combat shine. Wading into combat with both hammer and axe, few foes can stand against his wild swings and his ability to take a beating.

    During the current crisis, the Barrelbutt siblings have been in Atex. Strom volunteered his services to the Order of Rose right away. Hoping to crush some undead skeletons and earn glory for himself, and not sales for his Clan.

    Stat Block:
    Stromboli "Strom" Barrelbutt
    Mtn. Dwarf Fighter 1/Barbarian 5 6 CG

    AC 16 HP 53 Speed 30ft

    Str 17 (3) Dex 13 (1) Con 16 (3) Wis 8 (-1) Int 10 (0) Cha 12 (1)

    Battleaxe 1d20+6 1d8+3
    Warhammer (off hand) 1d20+6 1d8+3

    Fighting Style: TWF & Dual Wielder (+1AC)
    Second Wind (1d10+1)
    Rage 3/day (+2 Damage, Adv. of Str checks, Resistances)
    Unarmored Defense (AC: 15)
    Relentless Attack
    Danger Sense (Adv. on Dex Saves)
    Primal Path: Bear (Resist all Damage)
    Extra Attack
    Fast Movement
    Position of Privilege

  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    Looks good @Steelhawk

    And @Fuselage @Mongrel Idiot @jdarksun @Rainfall as promised, I have starting loot for you.

    7500 GP
    (1) Pearl of Power
    (1) Wand of Magic Missiles
    (1) +1 Magic Weapon
    (1) +1 Magic Shield
    (1) +1 Armor of Necrotic Resistance
    (1) Cloak of the Bat
    (2) Potions of Animal Friendship
    (2) Potions of Superior Healing
    (1) Potion of Necrotic Resistance

    The dice have been kind to you! Distribute these items as you see fit. The kind of weapon/shield/armor just happens to be exactly what your character uses. Imagine that!

    Denada on
  • RainfallRainfall Registered User regular
    I'll snag that +1 armor, I don't use shields so that's less useful, I have wings so I don't need the cloak, and I have options for overcoming weapon resistance as a Paladin, potions should probably be kept as a party resource.

  • jdarksunjdarksun Scion of Chaos Registered User regular
  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    As Rogue I'm interested in that cloak, but I'll understand if somebody else needs it as I'm a dual-wielding swashbuckler.

  • GaddezGaddez Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    May I reiterate my interest in playing as Wist?
    Tiefling Lore Bard 6 CG

    AC 13 HP 45 Speed 30ft

    Str 8 (-1) Dex 12 (+1) Con 14 (+2) Wis 10 () Int 14 (+2) Cha 19 (+4)

    Short sword +4 1d6+1
    dagger +4 1d4+1
    eldritch blast (120) +7 1d10 (2x)
    Mockery DC 15 1d4*

    Bardic inspiration 4(d8)
    Jack of all trades +1
    Expertise (thieves tools, history)
    Font of inspiration
    Counter charm
    cutting words
    Extra magic
    dark vision 60 feet
    Fire resistance
    Hellish rebuke
    Gifted even by the standards of tieflings in oratory, Wist was a natural bard who swiftly rose to be a respected entertainer, weaving magic, story telling, song and instrument in a way that most others could only dream.

    The problem of course, was that a combination of his good looks and charming personality consistently led to women in general being attracted to him over and above other more eligible men. Further, Wist was no great shakes as a brawler and as such often found himself dealing with various men who he couldn't soothe with honeyed words.

    While he insists that the reason for his joining the Hunters is that he wants inspiration for new songs and stories, the truth of the matter is that he more likely wants a circle of friends who will have his back. Which isn't neccesasrily a one sided relationship; Wist is a talented bard with a head for history, songs to inspire, and enough rude surprises for both beasts and bandits.

    Gaddez on
    Richy wrote: »
    But I think the resistance I’m getting more has to do with “rawr! Loklar said it! Rage!” than anything else.

    No, it has to do with the fact that you're done nothing but throw lies, blatant flasehoods, and downright dumb statements at us so far.
  • Mongrel IdiotMongrel Idiot Registered User regular
    In the interest of time, I won't roleplay out Birch's entire festival of hemming, hawing, pondering, considering, re-considering, consulting with oracles, and finally deciding there isn't enough information to proceed. The wand of magic missiles and the pearl of power are probably the most appropriate for me.

  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    Okay, so it looks like the loot distribution has shaken out to:

    7500 GP = 1500 GP per PC

    Birch: (1) Pearl of Power
    Birch: (1) Wand of Magic Missiles
    Adaryn: (1) +1 Magic Weapon
    Adaryn?: (1) +1 Magic Shield
    Bleak: (1) +1 Armor of Necrotic Resistance
    Sleazebeard: (1) Cloak of the Bat
    Group: (2) Potions of Animal Friendship
    Group: (2) Potions of Superior Healing
    Group: (1) Potion of Necrotic Resistance

    It looks like Adaryn is the only one that uses shields so we'll gave that to her. @Steelhawk give Strom a plain +1 weapon so that he's not left out. Sound good to everyone?

  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    Works for me. Now to begin roleplay as a fruit bat...

  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    Cool. I'll update Strom to include a +1 Warhammer.

  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular

    Lightning streaks across the sky as thunder shakes the wood beneath your feet. Waves crash across the deck as the ship struggles to stay upright. The crew, though seasoned sailors through and through, are frantic. This storm is practically alive, and it seems hungry. You're close to Anbury's secret port, but visibility is so bad that you can barely tell where land is, let alone spot the tiny outcropping of rocks that marks the cave's entrance. A panicked voice calls out from the prow of the ship, but the storm swallows up the words.

    Sleazebeard, the Order hired this ship for the infiltration mission on your recommendation. What's the ship called and why did you recommend it? More importantly, what skill check are you going to make right now to help out the crew?

    Here we go! Let me get you up to speed:

    The five of you are a new team of Hunters assembled by the Order of the Rose. Your mission - which you already accepted - is to infiltrate Anbury by sea, bypassing the army of undead that is currently locked in a stalemate with Atex's forces. You're currently on a ship in the middle of a nasty storm, looking for a secret port that will get you inside Anbury (hopefully) undetected.

    I'm going to be introducing you one-by-one by asking you a question about the mission and asking for a skill check to influence the current scene. Feel free to make up people, places, etc (within reason), and use this time to find your character's voice.

  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    edited April 2016
    Sleazebeard gripped the railing of Rosalie's Virtue hard with his left hand while opening the spyglass with a jerk of his right hand. It had been years since he was discharged from his clan's forces and wandered across the young man who would become this ship's captain.

    That was when Sleazebeard thought his story was coming to an end; washed up in some shanty, drinking excessively even for a mountain dwarf in an attempt to drown out those memories of what lay below his clanhold. Who knew that the young serving boy he befriended would grow to become a sailor and adventurer in his own right - even obtaining his own smuggling vessel?! That itself was a miracle in these days, but the idea that the two of them would meet again and fight alongside each other was unbelievable.

    Sleazebeard shook himself from his thoughts and evaluated their predicament. He was grateful the ship held together and kept him from what he considered far too much water for anybody, but that wasn't enough. He needed to help.

    All the nautical banter in the world couldn't bring him up to speed with navigating the vessel but the dwarf knew rock when he saw it. Alright Khunda, best be makin' yerself useful he thought to himself. He brought the spyglass up to his good eye and pushed his eyeball to the limits, best he could.

    Geth, roll 1d20+6 Perception

    "I can see the cave mouth that way, young Captain Malo!" He yelled at his middle aged friend as he jabbed his spyglass toward the rocks surrounded by inky darkness. It was as good as he could do in these conditions, but hopefully it would be enough.

    1d20+6 26 [1d20=20]

    Fuselage on
    Mongrel Idiot
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    Captain Malo begins bellowing orders to the crew, who respond as best they can amidst the chaos of the wind and waves. The ship strains against the water as it turns toward the part of the shore Sleazebeard pointed out. Bringing a ship safely through those rocks - even one as small and agile as the Rosalind's Virtue - would be tricky on a calm, sunny day. In this weather, it would be a miracle.

    Birch, how did you of all people know that there was a secret port in Anbury? And what are you going to do to help the crew navigate through those rocks?

  • Mongrel IdiotMongrel Idiot Registered User regular
    Gonna check what my Portent rolls for the day were before I decide...

    Geth, roll 2d20.

  • Mongrel IdiotMongrel Idiot Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    Lemme try that again...

    Geth, roll 2d20 for Portent rolls

    Birch was, in a perverse way, glad for the storm: while it terrified him to his core and filled his third eye with visions of himself and everyone else gasping amid the kelp at the bottom of the sea, it also drowned out his constant litany of "oh dear oh dear oh dear," which experience had taught him annoyed people like the good captain. He clung to the railing near the wheel, though he was also roped to it, and wondered if the water breathing ritual he'd worked on himself and anyone else who hadn't laughed at him when he'd suggested it was all that was keeping him breathing in such driving rain.

    "Boy! Do you see any damned thing past the rocks or not?" came Captain Malo's bark, and Birch swept his clairvoyant gaze across the rocks. As soon as he'd guessed that he was within half a mile of the forked rocks his sister Willow had described he'd roped himself to the railing and cast the mystic sensor just past them. Now his eyes were rolled back in his head and his sight was far across the waves, straining with every flash of light to make out the hidden rocks and reefs that made the secret way into Anbury so dangerous. When Willow had told him about it she'd made sailing in through stone-wracked seas under cover of darkness seem like a lark. Of course she had. His siblings always made it seem like a lark. But it was never a lark. It was terrifying, constantly, every minute of every day. He wished he was somewhere warm, with his cat and a book and...


    "You'll need to go quickly to the right as you get past the rocks," shouted Birch as a flash of lightning lit up the sky. "That is, starboard. Then back left, er, port, though not quite all the way to your original direction, and straight on after that. Oh dear dear dear, that's as far as I can see, but the sensor should be good for a few more..." His vision faded, grew again, then slipped away, and he was back on the ship, precisely as a wave roared up and swamped the quarterdeck. Hmm, he thought. The ritual did seem to help me breathe then.

    "Huh," said Malo. "Not so useless after all. Your eyes look normal. You done with that spell?"

    "Well, yes, it only lasts..."

    "Get off my quarterdeck and out of the way, then. This'll be hairy." Birch nodded, gave a strange sort of half-bow, cast a seasick smile at Sleazebeard--the Dwarf seemed a decent enough fellow--and ran below decks. As soon as he was out of sight he was violently ill in the passageway.

    Oh dear, oh dear dear dear, he thought. Not an auspicious start to things at all...

    Earlier in the day, Birch cast water breathing as a ritual on himself and anyone else who wanted it. When they got within sight of the rocks, he cast clairvoyance, placing the sensor just past the outermost stones and trying to identify what course they should take after they get past those. Should I make any rolls to see how well I did on that?

    Portent rolls:
    2d20 23 [2d20=11, 12]

    Mongrel Idiot on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    Mmm, I don't think we'll need rolls for those.

    With clear directions and a destination in sight, the resolve of the crew hardens as they rush to and fro, acting out the captain's orders like extensions of his own body. The ship bobs and weaves through the roiling waves, straining with all its might against the storm. As jagged rocks pass swiftly by, the cave entrance comes into clear view of everyone. At the same time, another flash of light streaks across the sky, but this one isn't lightning. A ball of fire, about the size of a man's head, sails over the ship and explodes against one of the passing rocks. "Monsters!" a crew member calls, pointing over the port side as another fireball narrowly misses the main-mast. Following the crew member's direction, you look and see five flying humanoids silhouetted against the full moon. The orange glow of fire emanates from what you must assume are their mouths, though you can't see their faces in the dark of the storm. It looks like they're about to attack again.

    Strom, you've dealt with gargoyles before. What was that about, and what are you going to do about them now?

  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    For the entirety of this trip, Strom has been one miserable dwarf. Giving truth to racial stereotypes, the dwarves of the Barrelbutt clan do horribly on the open water. Complaining, grumbling, and usually nestled between two barrels below decks. One of them filled with Rum being rapidly drained, and the other rapidly filling up with vomit. That corner of the hold is not a pleasant place to be. Calmer seas have seen the gregarious dwarf emerge to take in great quantities of food and partake in games and drinking with the crew. The slightest hint of rough seas however send him back his corner, cursing the very element of water.

    The storm however has changed Strom considerably. The severity of the rain and winds, the thunder and lightning have brought, for the first time on this voyage, the real threat of death. Now Strom has come alive! He strides to and fro on deck, laughing in face of the storm. His ridiculous hairstyle matted down on his head and his intricate tattoo's almost glowing when lightning strikes overhead.

    "Mizzen the yardarm!" he cries at the startled crew member, now standing in the middle of the deck with his feet planted wide. The pitching and rolling of the ship not bothering him in the least. "And You!...battened down the mast, eh? Good lad!" "And you, over there...the one who owes me 5 silver from the other night, yes you, I ain't forgot...keep your powder dry, eh? Keep it dry!" clearly, Strom is enjoying himself and has no idea what he is talking about.

    Captain Malo turns to his helmsman with a confused look, mouthing "powder?" Eventually he tires of Strom's play. "MISTER BARRELBUTT!! Please leave my crew alone! They have a hard enough time without dealing with your-" Malo is cut off by the fireball and the shouted warning.

    The explosion and following fireball snap Strom's head about and squints through the storm at the attackers, "Eh? What this then? Izzat a gargoyle? Looks like a gargoyle ta me, but I ain't ever seen one that had fire in its mouth! TO ARMS, LADS! TO ARMS!" Immediately, Strom's weapons are off his belt and twirling around in his hands. Tossing them back and forth from hand to hand mid spin and working out the kinks in his shoulders.

    "Gargoyles are vile creatures! Nuthin' they love more than causing pain and suffering, the stone faced bastards. I ran into some once when me sister and I knocked on the wrong door to sell some brew. Blasted mage set his guardians upon us! Wouldja believe? Probably never drank anything stronger than tea in his life. BAH! I crushed 'em then and I'll crush them now!"

    Geth, roll 1d20+1 for Initiative?

    1d20+1 17 [1d20=16]

    Steelhawk on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    The crew joins you in preparing for battle, wheeling out technologically appropriate weaponry as well as equipping themselves for melee combat should that weaponry fail. Within moments projectiles fill the sky, and a few of the gargoyles are knocked down into the sea. Fireballs continue to fly at the ship from the remaining monsters, and their aim is steadily improving. An explosion erupts on the deck, killing three of the crew outright. It probably would have started a fire too if it weren't for the storm.

    After a few moments only one gargoyle is left in the sky, and the ship has taken significant damage. The quick maneuvering required to navigate the dangerous path to the cave is becoming more and more difficult with each passing second. If it takes any more hits you might not make it.

    Adaryn, what are you looking for in Anbury (other than the source of the undead menace), and why is that on your mind right now? Also, what are you doing about that last gargoyle while you're trying to shake off those thoughts?

  • jdarksunjdarksun Scion of Chaos Registered User regular
    "You need help then, Beardybutt?" Two arrows shot out from the darkness, streaking out towards the gargoyles. "Watch this one." The wood elf, appearing from seemingly nowhere at Strom's elbow, touched the pendant hanging at her neck. "Sod off! " Adaryn shouted, and the sky split with a burst of lightning that arced down and struck the gargoyle just as her arrows found their mark. "Woo!" the elf cheered, spinning in a small circle. "Always happy to clean up your messes, Beardybutt. No need to thank me, lending a helping hand is reward enough." She winked, then nudged the dwarf in a friendly sort of way before sauntering back wherever she had come from. "Let me know if you find any more fun!" Adaryn called back over her shoulder.

    The ranger walked in a meandering, weaving path, taking a moment to offer a word of encouragement to the crew wherever it was needed. Wouldn't do to have someone lose their nerve in a storm like this, would it? She thought to herself. Better to keep 'em all at their best, so nobody runs off and does something stupid. Like wandering into a damned town and likely getting herself killed. If she isn't dead, I swear by Thor she'll wish she was.

    Minion, roll 1d20+6 for Insight into the sailor's morale

    Insight into the sailor's morale:
    1d20+6 10 [1d20=4]

  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    The sailors are for the most part pretty shaken up. Captain Malo is doing a commendable job of keeping them focused, but it's obvious to everyone that this is an extremely dangerous situation. But hey, at least there are no more fireballs exploding against the ship.

    With the monsters cleared from the sky and the ship finally clear of the rocks, the ship slides out of the darkness of the storm and into the darkness of the cave. The sudden quiet is striking, considering just a few seconds ago you could barely hear yourselves think above the howling wind, roaring thunder, and crashing waves. The sailors quickly set about lighting lamps, providing just enough illumination to see the cave walls and the way ahead. It's eerily still in here, and the crew is visibly nervous.

    Eventually you arrive at the small smuggler's dock deep inside the cave. It's not exactly well maintained, but you don't really have much of a choice for moorings here. The crew sets to their work, and after several minutes the five of you are free to depart.

    Bleak, the Order gave you your first destination within the city. Where is it, and how are you going to find a path to it?

  • RainfallRainfall Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    Bleak let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as Rosalie's Virtue slid into the hidden harbor, and she uncoiled from the prow of the ship, her wings opening with a snap and a small shower of water.
    "Well, we're all alive, in the cave, and the ship didn't even sink. Now we just have to stop an army of undead to save an entire city from being slowly overrun by ghouls."

    Steel scraped as the tiefling unsheathed her massive sword, the ancestral dwarven carvings looking almost alive in the unsteady lamplight. Bleak pointed the tip at the deck, carving a crude circle to mark Anbury before planting the tip near the edge.

    "The belltowers. Tall enough and loud enough to be heard by the fishing fleets they used to send out from the docks, for storm warnings, sunrise, and sunset. They give us the vantage we need on the city, they're sturdy enough, and protected, so we won't be exposed on the climb up. Easy to plan our next move when we have a view of what's happening in the city."

    She shifted the sword slightly and raised her head to look at the group, acid-green eyes almost glowing beneath her hood.
    "To get to the towers means getting past the walls. So rather than knocking on the front door and being slaughtered by ravenous undead that likely still roam the streets, we can try to scale the wall here, closest to the towers. I'll fly up, then the rest of us can rope it easily, and it's a short walk to a good view from there."

    Rainfall on
  • Mongrel IdiotMongrel Idiot Registered User regular
    "Oh dear," murmured Birch, adjusting his glasses and shifting his stance to better support Optic's weight: his familiar was perched on his shoulder. There was a good deal that could go wrong with the paladin's plan: a trap at the top of the wall, a bevy of skeletal archers in the yard below it, a swarm of gargoyles ready to rise up and attack as soon as Bleak cleared the wall. And more dangerous things, of course: no particular reason there couldn't be vampires in Anbury, at this stage. Or worse. "Ah," he said. "Perhaps we should take time to scout it out before we go over the top? I could cast another seeing-spell and look to the other side of the wall..." He trailed off, wringing his hands. Optic dug her claws into his shoulder, then jumped down and walked back and forth around his feet. "Oh dear..." he mumbled.

  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    Strom scratches his beard and frowns at the tiefling, "Climb the walls, all the way up the top of the highest tower? In a storm and with fire breathing gargoyles flyin' about? Listen, lad. I ain't got a problem with dyin' on the end of a sword or in the teeth of a dragon or whatnot...but fallin' ta me death cold and wet don't sound like fun."

    "This here cave is supposed to be some secret port for smugglers to get in and out of Anbury, yeah? I betcha they don't have to scale belltowers to get in the city. I'll bet me buttons that there is another way into the city from this cave..."

    I find it amusing that the guy with the wings wants to fly over the walls and the dwarf wants to use the caves. How appropriate! :)

    Steelhawk on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    I love it! Great intros everyone. You all have Inspiration.

    The captain and his crew are tending to the ship, leaving the five of you to work out your plans yourselves. The bell towers are indeed the best - and closest - vantage points from which to get an overview of the city, which is exactly why the Order suggested you start there. This smugglers' cave can get you inside the outer walls of Anbury, but the towers themselves are still protected by their own walls, a byproduct of the military considering them a key defensive resource in the event of an attack.

    How are you going to proceed?

  • RainfallRainfall Registered User regular
    "We can climb the towers from the inside, so long as they aren't gutted. They're protected by a much shorter wall which we can scale, if we don't have the whole horde after us. So stealth seems the best best to me, until we know the lay of the land."

  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    Stromboli shrugs, as if facing a whole horde of undead doesn't faze him at all. "The whole horde we can handle, lad. And stairs too, even if some o' our legs be short. Lead on axe ain't going to bloody itself."

  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    edited April 2016
    "I'll have you know I'm very proficient in climbing.", Sleazebeard mutters while comparing his height to Strom, then the rest of the party. "I want this forsaken place to get as few chances to see us as possible, and if that means going underground I'm for it!"
    Stereotypes work!

    Fuselage on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    Having reached something resembling a consensus, the five of you proceed through the smugglers' cave following a winding path that, frankly, doesn't seem very conducive to hauling cargo in and out of the city. There are many twists and turns, as well as a few rickety rope bridges, but at least there are no undead monstrosities.

    In all it takes about an hour to get to the unassuming metal hatch at the end of the cave. A narrow stone ramp leads up to the hatch, which is closed and locked. The lock is on your side of the hatch and doesn't require a key.

  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    Sleaze looks around at the group. "Well, me fingers are still nimble but me seeing's not as good.", he says with a wink...or a blink. He'd never taken off the eyepatch in front of the others.

  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    On occasion I'll pause and give you all a chance to do/prepare things before moving forward. You don't have to do anything, and can instead just Press A to Open Door. I don't like to assume that you're ready if you're not, and I don't want it to feel like the game is being played for you, in a sense. I also don't want to just sit here forever, so if no one has said anything after a bit or if anyone Does Something, then I'll move on.

    The hatch whines as it opens onto a small alley behind a large stone building. You're in the portion of the city where the man-made outer wall runs into natural cliffs, from which you've just emerged. The alley runs the length of the building, ending in a dead end on your right. The path to the left goes past a small door in the building (which is closed), then continues on until it turns right at the corner.


    There don't appear to be any undead in the immediate vicinity, though the stormy night does make for poor visibility.

    What do you do?

  • FuselageFuselage Bantha Three ValhallaRegistered User regular
    Geth, roll 1d20+8 Stealth Check

    Stealth Check:
    1d20+8 24 [1d20=16]

  • Mongrel IdiotMongrel Idiot Registered User regular
    Oh dear dear dear thought Birch. "Perhaps a moment of caution," he blurted. "I might use Optic to check around the corner, before we head off?" The cat-shaped spirit of the higher planes, sensing his intent almost before he formed it, shot off down the alley to poke her head around the corner.Deear dear he thought, watching the tiny white form at the corner. He took a deep breath and let his vision swim. Optic's instincts, a combination of cat and celestial, intruded on his thoughts like warm water, and he felt the dust tickling her whiskers as her vision became his. Sensing the time was right, he nudged her to peer around the wall.

    Optic runs up to the corner and Birch looks through her eyes to see what's lurking around it.

    Geth, roll 1d20+4 for Optic's Stealth roll.
    Geth, roll 1d20+3 for Optic's Perception roll.

    Optic's Stealth roll:
    1d20+4 23 [1d20=19]
    Optic's Perception roll:
    1d20+3 7 [1d20=4]

  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    Pushing through the disorientation of suddenly being much shorter, Birch sees a dark alley that leads to a wide street. There's a smoldering pile of something in the middle of the street, but it's too far away to tell what it is.

  • RainfallRainfall Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    Bleak nods to the others as she follows the cat to the alley corner, moving as best she can with the heavy armor encumbering her motions and her blade drawn. Silent movement through the streets came instinctually, even though it had been years since she had needed to use that particular skillset.

    What's the syntax for disadvantage? I don't know it.

    Geth, roll 2d20+2 for stealth disadvantage

    Oog. 7.

    stealth disadvantage:
    2d20+2 12 [2d20=5, 5]

    Rainfall on
  • Mongrel IdiotMongrel Idiot Registered User regular
    "There's something in the middle of the street, smoldering," said Birch as his eyesight returned. A moment later Optic, too, returned, twisting about his feet and purring. He knelt down to scratch her ears and hide his trembling knees from his allies. The blood of two great heroes in his veins, stories of his siblings' exploits burned into his brain since he was a baby, and his knees still clattered like dice when the moment came. He looked to Adaryn; he had a soft spot for elves, likely from his half-elf half-brother's, and thought the wiry priestess might be sympathetic. "Perhaps... a seeing-spell might be prudent?" Optic nipped his finger and leaped up onto his shoulder, and he stood up. "Oh dear, dear, dear..."

  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited April 2016
    We should probably establish a marching order, yes?

    Strom raises an eyebrow at Birch's nervousness. "Yer a twitchy one, ain't ya? C'mon, dying won't hurt too much...methinks."

    Geth, roll 1d20+1 for Stealth

    1d20+1 7 [1d20=6]

    Steelhawk on
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