[4e] Eternal: Beyond The North Road IC

Arivia

This is the in-character thread for the 4e Dungeons and Dragons game, Eternal: Beyond The North Road.



Table Rules:

-I don't care how you roll, where you roll, or why you're rolling. But I trust you to do it fairly.
-Standard posting rule: at least once every weekday. If you don't show up inside of 24 hours for a combat round, I will post for you. If you're going to be away for a significant period of time, please inform us and give another player the authority to act for you.
-The out of character thread is: http://forums.penny-arcade.com/showthread.php?t=97501 Use it for rules questions and other chatter.

Characters:

Rainfall - Dara, Elf Warden (application)
bok_choi - ___, Deva Wizard (application)
Hermengilde - Soil-Tiller, Warforged Cleric (application)
Kistra - Eden, Human Shaman (application)
ProfMoriarty - Tharia Leran, Human Sorcerer (application)
zenpotato - Horis Grimknuckle, Dwarf Paladin (application)

Arivia

The North Road, for such an important figure in memory and mind, is indistinct and blurred in reality. The road isn't paved, stoned or made of gravel - no, it's a depression, the wear of thousands of feet grinding it down, over and over as far back as the mind can see. It would be dirt - if not for the snowdrifts that fill it, the road then evident in the tracks that tear at it again and again, hollows in snow that will be erased, then carved once more - a cycle to last.

You sit on the edge of the road, the thin rise before its drop; the slow wind and light snow are plucking at your hair, a cool spiral against your head. Between the ever-present dull ache of your fingertips and the slow run of your nose, you can feel the blizzard coming, intense and destructive, inexorable but not malevolent. Excepting the low perpetual howl across the valley, the air is silent: birds and bears knowing better than you, burrowing deep for warmth and safety. This is not a night to be out and about, and the dark blue sky and bright stars are cloaked by milky shifts. To the north, you can see where the North Road hooks into the mountains, tall and black, jagged teeth that scratch and tear at the sky. Above them, the lights that haunt you in mind and soul are etched in place: blue and white sparkles on a draft of purples, a deeper, darker hole in the sky.

There's a sudden sharp noise at the periphery of your perception, and you snap to look at it, a small plume of snow spilling from your head as you do so. Just off the road, five more travelers pick their way through a copse of firs, dry branches and the thick blanket of needles cacophany under their feet. As they stride out from the trees, their paths cross, tracks entwining and running over before the low snow fills them in. You can smell the pitch as a torch nears, the sharp acrid feeling sticking to the top of your mouth. As the heat comes to you, your fingers ache again - not the ebbing ache of the frost, but the clearer grind of a slow melt and the rejuvenation of freedom.

You put your hands up to keep the blessing, and all six of you move in, saying nothing. You all know why you are here tonight, and while you've never met these people before, they are immediately closest to you of all - born by fire and purpose, here on the North Road.

The six faces that look at each other, first in glance and then by gaze, across the flickering glow of the torch are:

-A young human woman, cloak pulled high over her face. Black hair spills out from inside it, the halo cascading down well-kept and well-made hand-sewn clothing. One of her hands clutches something inside her robes, playing it over and over.

-A dwarven man, short and stout in stature. He wears no hat or cloak to protect him from the elements, but underneath his scruffy black hair and scarred brow, kindly, questioning eyes look out. His pipe glows an orange pattern against the snow that lingers in heart and mind.

-A tall creature, wrapped tightly in furs tied shut by leather straps. Between the thick hood and the bone-white, impassive and androgynous mask, you feel uneasy, not able to ascribe identity or gender.

-Another woman, this time with long pointed ears making her out as an elf. Her skin is pale silver, crossed with slashes and curves in a pale turquoise that matches her eyes. Under her brown hair and the light of the torch, the markings look almost lurid, too bright to be real in this pale northern light.

-Another human woman, topped with a black steepled hat in soft velvet. Pale red hair descends, framing a face used to smiling.

-Perhaps most unusual of all, the last figure is not made of flesh but steel and the dark heartwood of fir trees: a statuesque approximation of a man, gleaming and streaked with damp. It moves in the same places you do, looks to breathe and talk, but is distinct from you nonetheless.

You stand and stare, the snow beating down on your quiet gathering, until such time as one of you speaks and the haven of minds is traded for thought and action.

(Play commences.)

Hermenegilde

"As God willed it, so it will be. The Boreal Lights beckon. As we can feel them, in our hearts, in our minds, so they can feel us. And in that feeling, lies our destiny, our purpose. Chosen. To travel forth. To be joined with the origin of the lights, to be reborn in their lumiscent glory. Such is the will of God. "

Soil-Tiller turn to the North, contemplating the lights.

"Urgency. I can feel it. As I have not felt it in aeons. The Eternal will... change. "

Silas Brown

Tharia pushes her hat up from her eyes and looks to the North, excitement dancing in her eyes.

Change? Could it be? Not just the fluctuation of surface noise or the illusion of arbitrary patterns, but real, substantial change?

She pulls her cloak tighter around her as her lips curl in joy and awe.

Kistra

Eden is startled to recognize the speaker as the odd creature who tries to farm in Everwood. While his references to God make her slightly uncomfortable, she nods in agreement as he talks about destiny laying to the North.

After a pause to gaze at the lights herself, she looks around the rest of the group and shrugs as she asks "Shall we keep moving?"

zenpotato

And what does a construct know of the Maker's will? Then again, he shares his bones with the All-Father. And he is, after all, right. Horis, and the rest of these people, were here for a reason.

Horis recognized none of the others, but had heard of the cleric before. The details slipped his mind. What did it matter though, out here, now?

Horis glanced at the girl who spoke, and nodded in agreement. This would be no night for small talk, or even big talk. This was a night for travel.

Horis was ready to continue on.

Rainfall

"Change." The word isn't spoken as a question, but in a tone that would be considered derisive if it didn't sound so incredibly awkward passing the elf's lips.
Still, she stands to move with the others, her cloak brushing out the scattered drawings that had surrounded her while the others approached. More memories lost in the eternal snow.
"Dara." She points at herself as she says this, then looks at the others with an inquisitive gaze.

Silas Brown

Tharia's smile widens at the first introduction. She extends her hand as far out as possible in an offer to shake, then pulls it back to push her hat out of her eyes. Her smile turns slightly goofy as a warm blush crosses her cheeks. "I'm Tharia, a fortune-teller."

Rainfall

Dara looked at the proferred hand for a long moment, blinking in slight confusion. Then her eyes widen, in a long-shrouded memory. She reaches out and lightly taps Tharia's hand with her fingertips, then smiles, once again hiding her hands underneath her cloak.

Hermenegilde

Soil-Tiller watches from one woman to the other.
"I am... me."
Then, gesturing with one arm.
"The path is set. It but awaits for us to walk it."

zenpotato

Seeing that this was going to be a time for talking after all, Horis sighed.

"Horis Grimknuckle," the dwarf said with little enthusiasm. Something important was happening, and names could come later.

Horis stood near the large contruct, indicating that he too was ready to walk.

Kistra

Eden turns back around to listen to the introductions. She look around the group and simply says "Eden".

With that she turns to the pale masked figure with a quizzical expression.

Bok Choi

The masked figure seems not to notice the breif introductions spoken by those around. Anyone observing closely would notice eyes lazily flowing from voice to voice, face to face, perhaps making note of them, perhaps by coincidence.

"...we should keep moving."

The mask moves slightly as the voice floats to your ears; a voice that might be made my a icy river (what other kind are there?) It's not clear what sort of normal creature might make such a noise or if it is a property of the mask, distorting an otherwise natural sound.

Rainfall

Dara turned and proceeded down the road with the others. The call was strong, and the strange sense of urgency was thick in the air. Perhaps change was coming.

Arivia

You begin your journey, footfalls first halting in solo movement, then faster and quicker in unison, hollow thuds against the snow. As you go on, the wind picks up, tearing at your face and hands, a cold rhythm against your flesh. The snow it carries thickens, turning from draft in white to opaque gust and into a thick pounding solid wall that blocks all sight. You cannot see far, the mountains gone let alone the lights, and you know that to lose the Road in this would be danger, if not certain death. Still you go forward, one foot after the other, navigating by memory, touch and balance instead of sight and sound. The wind is at a howl now, and then it sounds quiet once more. And you hear something - a high, keening cry, bestial and ripping in undertow: feral, not friend.

While you might have different names for it, the image in your minds is the same - the great cat that haunts the shoals along the Road, fabled once to have red fur and a great mane, but worn down by years of camouflage against the snows to a mottle with white spots. Its teeth are more tusk than jaw, overlapping razors you've seen as makeshift knives and trophies. You were taught to listen for it, to run and to hide, to return to the village where you could lock yourself in safe with the fire and inside the walls. But in this blizzard, you cannot see where to go, and you remember the same fables that tell of men rewritten as bloody messes on the Road's banks.

zenpotato

Leaving Dara in the lead of the column, Horis unslings his shield and moves to the back of the line. He continues moving, but strains to see or listen for the beast in the midst of the storm.

"We should keep moving," Horis shouted above the wind. "Be watchful, but stay on the road."

Kistra

Eden looks around nervously and speeds up to be slightly closer to the person in front of her.

Perception: 1d20+9=19

Bok Choi

The masked figure seems to be staring into the blinding sheets of snow that lie before the group. Or maybe...searching for something?

Perception=23 (1d20+4=19+4)
I am using the iplay4e roller

Hermenegilde

"Do not stop. The beasts should be just as blind as we are and may, or may not attack. The storm will kill all of you if we do not find shelter. "

Silas Brown

For the first time since the group had set out, Tharia lost her smile.

That's right, this isn't a game. I'm in the wilderness chasing lights. Gods!

Tharia barely contains a sudden surge of panic as she tries to focus her eyes through the wind and snow.

Perception (1d20=19)

Rainfall

Dara unslings the shield and blade from her back, eyes open wide as she look around the group for whatever made that noise. They are my wards now. I will protect them, no matter the cost.

Perception! (1d20+10=28)

Silas Brown

Tharia shudders, only partially from the cold.

"P-perhaps we should hide? In the trees or something, until whatever is out there is long gone?"

Nature, to identify any potentially accessible and sustainable hiding/waiting locations. (1d20=3)

zenpotato

"Then we risk losing the road. I think we should keep moving. The beast is blinded by the snow just as we are. If we hurry, we might pass it by." Horis continued his rear vigil, but kept a brisk pace as he walked.

Arivia

A large black shape appears at the edge of the your vision - first one, then two, then three, arrayed in a tight triangle on the left side of the road, another hulk to the right. Your steps towards them are tentative, measured, and as the hard stone of the boulders reveals itself, your shoulders sag in relief. There is another high cry, much closer this time, but the cat is still hidden from view.

zenpotato

"Here's as good a spot as any to make a stand against the beast," Horis said as he gestured to the boulders. "It'll provide a little respite from the storm as well. We may be better off moving though, as that makes us harder for the creature to find. I'm thinking maybe we should hole up for a bit though."

There was something comforting about the idea of sheltering in the outstretched and stony palm of the All-Father. Horis was sure that the stone was a sign, a place of safety. Still, there was something to be said for boldness. The Maker was known to help the hand that helped itself, and there was still a long ways to travel.

Rainfall

Dara stalked through the skirling snow, each step instinctive and measured, her long stride unhampered by the deep drifts as she approached the boulders, looking at them with a solemn nod. "Have been... provi-ded for."

Nonetheless, she kept her shield and blade at the ready, a wary eye on the circling beasts. They would not find easy prey in Dara.

Kistra

Eden looks relieved at the sight of the boulders and says "I think stopping among the boulder for a bit sounds like a good idea. We may even be able to see better without the snow driving into our faces."

Bok Choi

"...the cat also benefits from this cover. But, it looks like you need rest."

The deva casts her gaze over the other travelers, noting that Soil-tiller seems to be in better shape than the rest.

"Some of you anyway."

Silas Brown

Tharia smiles weakly, barely supressing the realization that she has, for some reason, blindly jumped to a journey she knows nothing about and is already proving quite dangerous.

"Perhaps... a little rest would be okay."

Hermenegilde

"Quick. If we are to stop, set up a shelter from the wind amongst the boulders. I'll keep watch on the beasts."

I should have brought my shovel.

Perception : 1d20+2 = 14

Arivia

You back into the crevasse between the gathering of boulders, huddling together for warmth and safety. The howls fade out for a moment, then close back in, so close you can almost feel the rotten, stinking breath on your backs - or can you? You turn around and jolt in surprise, a cat slinking out from behind the boulders, thick and rippling with muscle, rust-red fur turning to grayish sleet. It's hard to make out the outline, where to stab and slash, in the blizzard that coats the ground: but you can see a second cat circling in the front.

Soil-Tiller:

Behind the boulders, you can hear the faint patter of smaller feet.

Map:

ALL terrain is currently difficult terrain due to the blizzard.
You must succeed on a DC 15 Athletics check to climb a boulder (gray circles.)
The blizzard gives everything beyond one square total concealment (-5 to attack rolls and blocks line of sight), and gives things within one square partial concealment (-2 to attack rolls.)

Status:

Initiative:
Eden - 25
Tharia - 17
Horis - 13
____ - 12
Cats - 11
Soil-Tiller - 10
Dara - 5

___ 20/20 | AC 14, Fort 10, Ref 14, Will 16
Dara 32/32 | AC 19, Fort 15, Ref 13, Will 14
Eden 26/26 | AC 14, Fort 14, Ref 13, Will 16
Horis 28/28 | AC 20, Fort 12, Ref 13, Will 15
Soil-Tiller 27/27 | AC 16, Fort 14, Ref 10, Will 15
Tharia 21/21 | AC 13, Fort 11, Ref 14, Will 17

RTPL1 64/64 | AC 16, Fort 15, Ref 15, Will 12
RTPL2 64/64 | AC 16, Fort 15, Ref 15, Will 12

Eden's turn.

Kistra

Eden's eyes widen in horror as she catches glimpses of the large cats stalking around the boulders. She clutches her wooden griffon in both hands, holding it up to her face. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut and her utter panic makes her feel the spirit of the griffon inside of her more strongly than ever before. So strong that for a moment she lets herself believe that the spirit has come for real to help her.

Feeling less panicked she opens her eyes and is surprised to see a spirit griffon standing next to the closer cat. Much heartened, she silently cheers the griffon on to attack. A moment later she sees the griffon savagely lunge towards the cat, scoring it with one foot and clawing fiercely at the air with the other.

Minor: Call Spirit Companion to J1
Attack with Twin Panther on RTPL2: 2#1d20+4 20 (hit)7(miss)
Damage: 1d8+4 10
Everybody gets combat advantage against RTPL2 until the end of my next turn.

Tharia's turn

zenpotato

With battle joined, Horis feels a sense of relief. The tension of being stalked fades, replaced with the righteous anger of a servant of the All-Father being blocked in his path. Horis deftly moves between the two largest boulders to protect the party.

In guttural dwarvish Horis shouts, "By the Maker's bones, you die!" He then lashes out with his warhammer, barely missing the beast though the blinding snow.

Move from H6 to H3.

Divine Challenge (-2 to attack rolls on anyone other than Horis)

Enfeebling strike:
d20+6+2 vs. AC = 8+8-2 = 14, a miss

Tharia or ____'s turn

Silas Brown

"No! No! Stay back!"

Tharia attempts to harness the chaotic forces of the storm in her favor. While the seemingly-random nature of the movement of snow and wind gives her peace, she fails to see past the noise and has no effect.

Standard Action: Dragonfrost RTPL1
Dragonfrost Vs. RTPL1: 1d20-1 8 Miss
Chaos Burst grants Tharia +1 to AC until the start of her next turn. Her AC is now 14.

Use an action point.

Standard Action: Dragonfrost RTPL1
Dragonfrost Vs. RTPL1: 1d20-1 14 Miss

_____'s Turn

Bok Choi

The cloaked figure begins to motion with, at first slowly, then with increasing speed. Suddenly a hand shoots out from under the robes, sending forth...nothing. None the less, the beast hidden in the snow seems to react to being attacked, as you hear it yelp in pain.
Taking the chance to assault the second cat, the figure raises it's arms above it head the snow storm to its left seems to be come more vicious, it even appears that bolts of energy are crackling about.

Standard:Phantom Bolt v RTPL 2 1d20 (13) + 4 -5 = 12 Attack
1d8 (3) + 4 = 7 Damage
RTPL 2 47/64 HP

ACTION POINT: Conjure a Storm Pillar at G7
Each enemy that moves into a square adjacent to the pillar takes 1d6 + your Intelligence modifier (4) lightning damage.

Cats!

Hermenegilde

CATS !