Checking for survivors, and also saving any I can find, using my experience as a field medic. Wis + level + 4
As the immediate danger of the wolves seem to be gone, Caldon quickly starts looking for the survivors of the caravan.
"Lend me a hand here! If so many of us survived the avalanche unharmed, there's bound to be others. But if they haven't gotten up, then their injuries may be serious. Even if they're just knocked out, the cold will claim them by the morning if we don't get them out now."
spell refresh; hp recovery; searching the bodies/caravan for loot (Int + treasure hunter + level)
Not sure if I should roll refresh for my Lighting Fork spell, so I included it. I failed the check.
Spending 1 recovery.
27/27HP 7/8 recoveries
I used Int for the loot check, if I should use wisdom instead subtract 3 from my roll
Van takes a deep breath before joining Caldon in his search for survivors. "Of course Caldon, let me help. Is it alright if I call you that? Do you prefer Brother, Father, something else? I keep meaning to ask you that."
Any illusions that he shares the same motivations as the Cleric disappear once Vanminar spots a heavy coin purse on one of the corpses. He smoothly removes it from the late merchant's belt, and begins slipping it into his pocket, before glancing up at the group.
"Sorry, force of habit. We'll split this up, of course." Van throws the purse into a separate pile.
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
Searching the area for survivors (and...ahem...things that are of no use to the dead) is a grim and challenging task. The weather definitely does not help as wind blinds you occasionally and moves heaps of powder into holes that you have dug. The limbs that you see sticking out of the ground don't give you much hope for finding survivors either. Van finds a payload of goods and a few easily opened strongboxes. This caravan was carrying general goods and a light assortment of weapons and armor. Anyone could find general supplies that they would need in this stash. The strongboxes and various pouches yield an already impressive 100gp, but Van finds a false bottom on one that contains a few rubies worth another 50gp.
You find 22 bodies and 10 dead horses and pack mules. Caldon finds one mule with two broken legs that he could easily heal if he wishes to, otherwise it would be a mercy to put it down. Just when all hope for survivors is abandoned, Maldras hears low moaning coming from a nearby tree. A young gnome priestess of Garl Glittergold is slowly regaining consciousness wedged between two large branches. You think that you remember that her name was Vaja and she was making the long journey to a burg south of New Port.
Setting up camp here seems like it would be a folly. The bodies already attracted wolves and this storm would make it nearly impossible to keep a fire going; if the weather gets worse you may end up buried by these drifts by morning. The steeple of the temple visible over the trees and hills in the moonlight looks like it is less than 45 minutes away.
Not being well-suited to the labor of pulling large objects out of deep snow thanks to his stature, Fultur opts to assist Vaja instead. After Vaja is freed from her tree, Fultur takes it upon himself to get her hydrated and manages to create a surprisingly good-smelling sandwich out of hardtack, cheese, and a bit of melted snow with a talented application of blue flame. Anyone familiar with Dwarven craftsmanship would probably recognize Moradin's Flame, a very particular application of fire magic not typically utilized for making...grilled cheese sandwiches. This is clearly the wiles born of desperate need, indignity, and combat service.
"Come on, yer grace, it's the best we're gonna get for a bit and yer in the most dire need," he says, handing her the food. He makes similar sandwiches for anyone else who is hungry. He does apply a bit of earth magic to open graves for the 22 bodies, leaving them uncovered until Caldon or Vaja can conduct the proper rites. It's not the finest burial, although he does take some time to shape a surprisingly artistic memorial that shows tiny wolves, humanoids, and an avalanche in polished pink granite. For anyone who observes it's clear Fultur is a masterful artisan, even if his tools are his magic more than actual tools.
I figure Fultur is familiar enough with the rather grim task of burying comrades that he wouldn't necessarily need to make a skill check here.
Maldras looks at the open graves, the shaken gnome priestess and the far away spire and sighs.
"I was hoping we might come back to do this duty in the morning, when the sun and whoever is in that temple could aid our task. But if we must consecrate the unfortunate tonight, we'd be better off not dying of cold."
So the bard sets to gathering the remains of the carriages and setting them alight.
Geth roll 1d20+6 for Firelighting
Assuming that survival is Wis based, and Traveller lends to this.
Int+Wis+ex+former head of a religious branch of the Cathedral
I'm not sure how powerful you're making healing in your game narrative-wise. If healing will mend broken bones and all that, then I'll also heal the mule so the priestess can at least sit on the mule to wherever we go. If instead, it can barely limp along and will just slow us down, then I'd probably just put it down. I'm assuming it's probably the former as there are (costly) resurrection spells in this world.
"Van, it's complicated. While the Church has not actually defrocked me, they are still unhappy about my theological views and consider it heresy so I generally no longer take part in official functions. So while I could still be called Brother Caldon, I should also probably also get used to simply being called Caldon"
As all the bodies have now been recovered, Caldon goes around doing the abbreviated version of the Last Rites on each corpse so as to prevent their reanimation from the Lich King's magic.
Having done the lion's share of the digging since the cold didn't bother him nearly as much as the others, Golnar stands silently at the side of the graves as Caldon performs Last Rites.
Once the rites are done, Golnar offers the gnome priestess a lift, as he assumes she isn't up to walking to the temple in her condition.
"Magnificent." Vanminar says, around a mouthful of Fultur's grilled cheese. You're not sure if he's talking about the sandwich, the pink granite memorial, or both.
After Caldon's Last Rites, Van takes it upon himself to dole an equal share of the gold and rubies (21gp) to each of the survivors, including Vaja.
As an afterthough, Van grabs rations and torches from the caravan gear. "Time to pay our respects at the Temple, I suppose?" Van smiled, pointing the way.
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
Vaja is extremely young for a priestess-her age is somewhere around 49 (17 or 18 in human age)-and her close cropped, curly red hair and round features make her look even younger. Caldon knows that her ocher-colored robe and small hand axe are a signifier that she has only recently completed her votary training. She looks to be uninjured, but in a state of shock until Fultur gives her some food. She chews rapidly (with a lack of couth that even a dwarf would find noticable) and once she has finished her food, her demeanor seems to change almost immediately.
"Boy, that was somethin', huh? I dreamed I was in a big old rock tumbler and then I opened my eyes and saw wolves, figured this was just another dream, and shut 'em again. If I hadn't already bought into the luck of old Garl - and I do, lock, stock, and barrel, your grace..." She quickly makes a holy diamond motion with both of her hands before continuing, "I'd sure be a believer now. I'm sad to see all these folks go, but I guess if folks other than me had to make it, I'm glad it's a lot that knows how to get stuff done."
Vaja waves away the gold that Vanminar offers. "I'd be toast if was just me an' these wolves...but I will take up your offer of that pony to ride over there. Poor thing, I think that might even be Roy - Roy's what I named the pony holdin' all the food - and I sure did like Roy."
With great effort (and fumbling the incantation a few times), Vaja spares Caldon the task of healing "Roy" (still a mule and not a "pony") and does it herself. "If I'm on a pony, maybe you all will still see me when I fall into the snow." She chortles in a way that is simultaneously charming and quite annoying.
Anyone with religious knowledge knows that the church of Garl Glittergold is quite small. Only gnomes really revere the god and only a tiny percentage of gnomes feel the call to serve him. His main temple is in Forge and is so small and out of the way that worshipers often spend hours trying to find it. Vaja is most likely going to be one of two priests at one of his provincial shrines, or (gods help them) will run one herself.
Maldras is able to suss out that you are currently in the Oberrly Veil, a small valley with dwarven and human settlements near Forge. This area was hit by the invasion of The Orc King and several small communities were destroyed. A few have been rebuilt, but lingering beasts and monsters have made rebuilding somewhat difficult.
Caldon recognizes the shape of the spire as a joint human and dwarven construction. This either indicates that it serviced a mixed race community or a human community that paid the dwarves to aid them (and then built something as unnecessary and stupid as a tower that any old wyvern might take a fancy to roost in). Given the region, it is likely a temple to Pelor, Kord, St. Cuthbert, or maybe Bahamut, The Great Gold Wyrm, though that seems less likely.
As an aside, around 60% of the populace of The Dragon Empire worships the gods of The Old Pantheon (confusing, since Vecna, The Lich King is a member of this pantheon). This pantheon is the one found in D&D's 3.5 PHB which I will detail below briefly. Feel free to elaborate on any of the gods listed below if it suits your fancy, or worship something else, or nothing at all.
Bahamut, The Great Gold Wyrm - King of Dragons. God of Good and Protector of the Empire.
Boccob - God of Magic
Corellon Larethian - God of the Elves (though many elves venerate their Queen and draw power from her, she does not claim to be a deity)
Ehlonna - Goddess of the Woodlands
Erythnul - God of Slaughter (illegal to worship)
Fharlanghn - God of Roads
Garl Glittergold - God of Gnomes
Gruumsh - God of the Orcs (illegal to worship and newest god other than Vecna)
Heironeous - God of Valor
Hextor - God of Tyranny (illegal to worship)
Kord - God of Strength
Moradin - God of the Dwarves
Obad-Hai - God of Nature (technically illegal to worship, but this is not enforced)
Olidammara - God of Thieves (illegal to worship)
Pelor - God of the Sun
St. Cuthbert - God of Retribution (only non-evil deity linked to The Crusader)
Vecna - God of Undeath and Secrets (legal to worship, but tightly controlled. The Lich King.)
Wee Jas - Goddess of Death and Magic (not illegal to worship, but fairly unpopular in the realm.)
Yondalla - Goddess of Halflings
Fultur doesn't bother to comment on Vaja's eating habits, preparing to trudge to the temple with the rest of the group instead. He glances at Vanminar as the sorcerer hands him the four gold coins. "What d'ye think the chances we're out of the metaphorical woods are?" he asks conspiratorially, making sure Vaja doesn't overhear.
"I've little knowledge of dire wolves, but any wolves that hungry won't give up easily." Van said, matching the Wizard's volume.
"If we're lucky we scared them off. But in my experience, bad luck comes in streaks." Van eyed the Temple steeple thoughtfully, before pulling out his pipe and offering Fultur a plug of smoke, in return for a touch of Moradin's Flame to light it.
"My thanks." Sabeiha pocketed the coins that Vanminar offered with a nod of acknowledgement before returning her attentions to the woods. It was true that they were in the clear for now, but the woods were usually full of other creatures aside from wolves. Creatures that shared similar tastes in flesh in her experience. While the others were occupied with rituals, she felt it only right to keep watch, hand resting casually on the pommel of her blade.
Geth roll 1d20+3 for Keeping an ear and nose on the woods.
"Well, at least walking over there should warm us up.", states Maldras, unceremoniously dumping all the canvas and wood he had scrounged for his.. pile of wet wood and snow.
"I should be able to forge us a path through all this dreaded ice."
Fultur slides his staff through a brilliant bit of leatherworking that supports both it and the small crossbow he carries, his bedroll, a waterproofed pack, and some of his panoply of pouches. He's visibly secured a bit of extra food and a couple of wine skins to his harness as well. For all that he didn't get involved with pulling bodies free of the snow, it appears the actual weight wasn't one of his considerations. He's easily carrying more than his share of supplies and looks perfectly comfortable. Might be a dwarf trait.
He watches Maldras trudge through the tall snow but shrugs and moves to follow the troubadour, who has at least managed to pack the snow down to a manageable level.
Golnar has spent most of the conversation digging around in the snow for his axe. Upon finding it, he raises it over his head in triumph before joining the others in the trek to the church.
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
The way to the church is surprisingly easy with Maldras leading the way, even with the added difficulty of tramping through spots of deep snow. The woods soon clear into a glade bisected by a half-frozen river. The river looks to make a bee line toward where you see the temple. The snow isn't as deep here as in the rut that you found yourselves trapped in about three hours earlier. Howls in the distance occasionally startle you, but it seems as though the wolves are keeping their distance - sated by horse meat you hope.
The woods and land as you approach change in character. It appears as though this area suffered fire within the past few years. A few farmhouses, partially buried in the snow, display their burnt frames like rib cages sticking out of this iced earth. It is almost hard to imagine that anything ever grew here as you pass. You keep your eyes peeled for orcs in the ruins, but it appears as if you only have each other and the constant bite of the wind to contend with. As the temple nears, you see a few surrounding houses and buildings (likely an inn and general goods store) that mirror the ravaged countryside.
The temple itself is very impressive given the size of the community. Most everyone recognizes the symbol of Pelor, a golden disc, mounted prominently on top of a 45 foot tower. The tower is fixed to the rear of a stone church, all comprised of masterfully cut dwarven granite. The church is on the slope of a gently rising hill, that twists and drops down a few hundred feet into the valley that you originally landed in, giving it a dynamic profile even in the limited light. A few more stone buildings lay to the south and east of the large temple. This looked to be some sort of monastic order with a small support community. Compared to the farms and homes that you passed on the way around and up the hill, the temple appears to be in good condition, with only a few holes high in the walls and the front door hanging slightly off its frame.
What catches your attention as you get within 100 ft of the entrance is that there is light coming from within. You detect the faint scent of smoke.
Vaja gives a low whistle and clambers down off of Roy. "Huh, so that's what a church with money looks like. You think more travelers are holed up in that place or somethin' worse than a wolf?" Anyone who wished to travel near her on the trek up would have found her to be quite chatty and even chipper given the hard nature of the situation, but those with war experience know that some people hide fear and anxiety by overcompensating with a forced smile. She pulls out her diminutive axe and asks, "Should we go knock?"
"If I remember 'bout the human gods correct-like, Pelor is about charity and compassion and whatnot," opines the dwarf. "But given all those ruined farmhouses wit' the rutted out frames, whoever's inside mebbe jumpy. Knockin' seems a solid course' action." His attention visibly drifts to the construction of the cathedral, the dwarven granite blocks catching his eye.
"Well, if they've been getting attacked, they'll probably be happy to see some friendly faces who can actually handle themselves in a fight," Golnar responded.
He carefully raps a single finger on the door, sending a sharp, echoing knock echoing inside.
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
edited December 2015
Even keeping his strength in check, Golnar nearly knocks the solid oak door off of its hinges. As solid as the stonework stands, it is obvious that this structure came under heavy attack like the rest of the buildings around here. Flag poles and torch sconces hang broken from the exterior walls and the small statues of Pelor that stand at either side of the door have been decapitated. The knock is loud, as the structure sounds cavernous inside. Everyone hears a quick shriek that is hushed.
A gruff voice calls out from inside, "Tell us who ye are and state ye're business. We've got a dozen bows drawn on that door and the dead goblins inside will let ye know they work just fine."
Sabeiha's trained ears pick up the sound of two bows being drawn.
"I beg you, please stay your arrows! I am Vanminar Tel'Azahd. My companions and I seek shelter from the cold by your fire. Our caravan was destroyed by an avalanche not far from here, and many lost their lives. If not for these brave souls, I would be among them, for we survivors were then attacked by a starving wolf pack. It was only by trusting one another, and working together, that we were able to overcome such a terrible calamity.
Please allow us to share your fire, and we would be glad to add our strength to the defense of your camp."
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
edited September 2014
"Aye, we heard the rumble on the mountain and the howls of those damned curs. We'll open the door for ye lot, but I best not see a weapon drawn until we look ye over. Anfus, make ye'rself useful, ye muttonhead and open that door."
"Watch your tongue, old man. I'll open it, but you call me names again and I'll lay you out," sounds a second gruff voice.
You hear low chuckling, and in a moment, the door is pulled open, grinding against the ground with a painful groan by a tall, lean half-orc wearing the leather armor of an imperial scout. He looks to be about 17 years old and his face is highlighted by a brutal scar that zig-zags from his forehead across his nose and down to his right cheek. A bandolier of knives adorns his chest and he has a long wicked one on display in his left hand.
Just beyond the door, three goblin bodies are stacked on top of each other. Arrow wounds mark their heads and bodies. 25 feet into the structure a campfire smolders with the remains of splintered pews gathered around it. Crouched in front of the fire with a short bow trained on the door is an old human dressed in furs. He has the look (and if you get close enough, smell) of a man used to living off of the wilds. Another human youth, a portly 14 year old boy in ill-fitting hide armor and a steel helm, has a goblin bow trained on the door as well. His shaking hands let you know that he'd be lucky if his arrow sailed 10 feet. A third human, a female no older than 15, lays by the fire. Her leg is wrapped in strips ripped from her heavy robe and looks to be soaked in blood. Fultur and Van immediately recognize the patterned medallion on her neck that marks her as a first year Arcanum student.
The old man looks your group over and laughs "Guess some good luck had to come our way, since we used up all the bad, eh? Connor's prayers got answered by not one, but two holy rollers. My name is Geralt. Connor is the lad to me right. Anfus is the fool that let you in, and the lass here is Krista. She got a shot in the leg when we took this place. I got the arrow out, but my healin' herbs are back at me hovel."
Anfus glares at the ground and spits to his side, "Probably more of the little shits out there as well. I hope the cunts freeze." He slams the door shut once you are in and props a broken beam against it to secure it shut.
The building is about 150 ft. by 50 ft. with a cavernous 30 ft. ceiling that is held by magnificent arches. The floor slowly pitches upwards towards a dais and altar that takes up the entirety of the back 20 ft. of the temple. There is little in here that isn't destroyed or desecrated. 8 crude mats are scattered around the floor with small piles of animal bones and other filth scattered about. Though you are out of the snow, you do not feel at ease; there is something fouler than just a handful of goblins about this place.
Feel free to make more skill rolls and explore as you wish. The people at the camp can answer questions as well. If anyone wants to, they can consider this a quick rest.
Casters should tell me what spells they have ready. Don't worry about daily spells cast during the wolf encounter or recharging.
"The gods provide when the need is greatest," Fultur agrees, ushering Vaja inside once his eyes set on the dead goblins. "Not ta impugn yer work keepin' these folks alive, but ye look ta be hangin' in on th'skin o'yer teeth Geralt."
He glances at Anfus, who he quickly pegs as a veteran despite his age. It can be a rough life for a half-orc in the Empire, but the in the Legion at least he'd be judged on his merit. The portly human he quickly dismisses; probably one of the only locals left alive and not called to dangerous service. The young woman is clearly a mage, although she's only completed her first year at the Arcanum judging by her medallion, and injured to boot. Doubtful she's much help at the moment. He ignores Geralt for now. He'd have a chance to study the man more closely soon.
He pulls some food free of his harness and hands it to the half-orc, heading deeper in and giving some portion to the young boy and girl. He waits until the fur-covered human takes the bow off the group before handing him some food and one of the wine skins. "Jus' a bit of wine-cut water, nothin' fancy, but it won' give ye the runs."
He proceeds to take a look around, the pervasive feeling of wrongness reminding him of the Lost Mines.
Assuming this would be more dwarf artificer than mercenary-related, +3 from background, +1 from level.
The bard walks straight for the fire, pulling a battered weatherproof case out of his backpack as he does so.
As the case clicks open, the bard smiles at the old man.
"My name's Maldras, and we greatly appreciate the hospitality. The weather out there isn't so good for those of a delicate nature."
And with that, Maldras's lute emerges. At first glance, there appears nothing unusual about it. It's not stylised in any manner, and there are probably several hundred of the same wood-turner and pattern lying around.
But closer inspection, or just looking at Maldras's face, tells a different story. This lute has been with him for years, with the strings replaced again and again, and the neck and bridge well-worn with the passing of his hand. But the rest of the lute is relatively unscathed by the passage of this time, which, while quite easy to overlook, belies the amount of attention this instrument has received, and the work gone into keeping it unharmed.
The case is likely worth more than the lute itself, seeing as the inside is padded to a fine degree, and that the instrument didn't come out covered in snow.
The bard places the lute next to him by the fire, letting the strings breathe and removing and latent moisture from the instrument.
"Can't imagine there'd be many other folks braving the weather tonight, so what misfortune befell you all that we meet in this cheery chapel?"
Geth roll 1d20+6 for Will Archmage cursed dice be a ticket to offending these travellers?
This is 3+1+Crowd Control for reading a group of people's mood / musical preferences. Crowd control/tavern sense is meant to be a half performing skill / half adjusting to crowd fights. It's reading the mood of the crowd and adjusting or flowing with it, which extends into bar fight scenarios, where knowing who to avoid, how to distract and how to escape is half the battle. Being actually good at fighting would be the other (neglected) half.
Will Archmage cursed dice be a ticket to offending these travellers?:
Prepared Spells:
Breath of the White, Lightning fork, Scorching Ray, Color spray
Let me know if I should roll for each person individually.
Vanminar spoke to each of the survivors in turn, privately. With honeyed words and an easy smile he hoped to put them at ease, enough to relay details of their ordeal that they might otherwise choose to forget.
Golnar likes the look of Anfus. A soldier protecting the civilians resonates with him. He doesn't really remember much before the experiments, but Golnar likes to think he used to be a guard of some sort. He makes a show of shething his axe before walking over and grabbing a seat near Anfus.
"There's a good chance those goblins are already stiff as a board. I mean, I'm not sure if goblins are smart enough to start a fire in this weather. Anyway, what's your story? How'd you end up out here?"
As Caldon enters, he immediately notices Krista's leg and his instinct is to immediately tend to her wounds. But remembering how Sister Vaja struggled with the mule, she could certainly use more experience in these matters.
"The girl, Krista was it? I am Brother Caldon, and this here is Sister Vaja. We can probably help with her leg. Do you mind if we take a look?
He motions at Sister Vaja to follow him.
Geth roll 1d20+4 for general charismatic charm and getting in the good graces with the folks here. Not sure if my backgrounds apply much here, but pulling out my medical supplies and field medic training might convince them I really know what I'm doing for an additional +4.
general charismatic charm and getting in the good graces with the folks here. Not sure if my backgrounds apply much here, but pulling out my medical supplies and field medic training might convince them I really know what I'm doing for an additional +4:
Everyone is grateful for the food and water. Even the half-orc lets the perpetual snarl that defines his face drop briefly and utters a sincere thanks.
It seems like there should some sort of entrance to the steeple tower behind the altar, but you don't see anything. The altar also appears to be defiled with a symbol that looks like this:
Maldras' lingering frostbite dampens his ability to play his lute as well as normal. His choice of playing an upbeat halfling tavern-hall song doesn't quite fit the mood either. He realizes after a few bars that he has misjudged the situation and strikes up conversation with Geralt. Vanminar joins in as well.
"Aye, ah bet ye're wonderin' why this lot are out here with a crazy old man." Geralt produces his pipe and fills it with a dank weed that soon produces a violet smoke. "This was the Dawn Reliquary, a lot of of pacifist priests and philosophers, more heart than sense, that supported this little community. It was the last bastion to fall as the Orc King tucked tail out three winters back. Ah make my way huntin' in the Veil - used to sell meat and furs to the monastary - and ah'm about the only fool that didn't flee or die."
"These lads are kids from this town and they heard that there were still beasties kickin' around the temple. That big lunk over there, britches big because he spent a season watchin' behemoths, decided that his friends could take this place back. Don't know why anyone would listen to him, specially a hedgemage that flunked outta her first year and a lad with all the hardness of a wounded doe. They got caught out in this storm and heard the howlin' of the wolves. Lucky for them, I was on a hunt nearby and got them back here. Turns out they were right about the beasties."
Krista is asleep and Caldon and Vaja are able to tend to her wounds without waking her. Connor paces as the clerics work. He meekly removes his helmet and kneels down to softly touch her cheek, "Thanks for helping my sister. She's the only family I have left and I don't know what I'd do without her around. I just want her to come back home and tease me...I won't even get mad or anything. Turns out she was right anyway, I'm not cut out to be an adventurer."
Anfus sizes you up and soon realizes that you must have been the one knocking on the door. "This is my home and I wanted to do a bit of house cleaning. The kids over there are my friends and they want to come back home too. They need to make sure that the folks who stayed behind buried their family. Might not be able to bless 'em otherwise, but we could put 'em outta their misery. That old goat over there has pissed me off and treated me like shit since I was a kid. I guess I'm lucky that he got us through that storm, but I think if it was just me, he'd have let the wolves have a go at me. Once this storm blows over, we're clearing this place out for good and Geralt can go back to whatever old creeps in the woods do."
"I'm on leave right now from scouting and making sure those idiot Khans and their fucking cultists on the back of Sverdning, (a behemoth) don't violate their treaty and touch soil in the Empire. Important work, but boring as shit. Figured I'd use my leave to see some action and settle some scores."
Van absentmindedly toys with his empty pipe. "Hmm, best to assume the villains will return to finish what they started. It will be a pleasure to disappoint them."
Vanminar eyes the violet smoke with wonder. "Is that Queenshroud? I had no idea it grew in these woods. Could I trouble you for a pinch?"
The half-elf joins Fultur in looking over the temple. Van knew dwarven crafstmanship when he saw it, he was willing to lay odds that there was more to this temple than met the eye.
Geth roll 1d20+8 for finding dwarven secrets
I used int + level + treasure hunter
Geth roll 1d20+7 for Iconology.
Not sure if this lore check is +8 (Int check) or +10 (Wis check)
Looking for who pushed the horde Orc King in this particular town, and how the clash went down.
His enthusiasm for a new story quelled somewhat when Geralt turns to the imminent threat.
"Wait, beasties? What kind of beasts?
"Ugh. Guard duty is the worst. My condolences," Golnar says, shaking his head. "Well, we got a few godbotherers with us, if you still have anyone that needs to be laid to rest. Any idea why those goblins got all worked up in this kind of weather?"
Fultur stomps around for a bit, prodding and poking at things. He spends a bit of time at the back of the structure looking perplexed, but returns to his moving and prodding after a brief pause, eventually getting caught up by Vanminar. "Notice somethin' missin'? Ain' a ladder 'r stairs to the tower," he says. "Altar's been desecrated, too, but that ain' surprisin'."
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
edited September 2014
Vanminar is offered a pinch of weed from Geralt.
"Aye, tis the Queenshroud. Ye've a good nose, lad. Grown it meself for 40 years and had me plants charmed twice by druids to grow true."
The potent weed clouds Van's judgment and wisdom temporarily in a misty haze. He helps in Fultur's search, but can't see much past his own nose with clarity for a few moments.
To Maldras' question, Geralt gives him a side glance, "Aye, that cursed woman passed through. When the elves pushed her back in Hydemarch, she fled west instead of back north." Maldras remembers that the Orc King fled erratically as it became clear that her foray into the empire was premature. She abandoned the chance to fortify entrenched positions in order to raze more villages on her way out of the empire. If this village was in her way, then it would have faced an especially enraged army. A settlement of this size would have likely seen a swarm of goblins and kobolds left behind to make repopulation difficult, with a trusted sergeant or a hill giant to oversee the chaos and keep the dumber humanoids focused. Geralt confirms these suspicions when he replies, "Well, ye saw their cursed-spawn wolves out there. I've stayed clear of the Reliquary these past years, but I've had to kill a few goblins and kobolds that wandered too close to home. The tracks in here show somethin' bigger lurkin' here as well. I'd guess orcs, gnolls, or both."
Caldon recognizes the symbol immediately. It is the master symbol of the church of the Elder Elemental Eye, a massive cult that threatened twice to destroy the empire from their unholy temple about 150 miles northeast of here. The church also is subdivided into four sects that represent the basic elements of Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, but none of the sect iconography is visible in this room.
Anfus nods at Golnar. "The job is boring, but at least life following a behemoth keeps me on the move. It's nice to have some holy warriors on hand if the dead here didn't get consecrated...I want to think I could just knife a few skeletons or zombies down, but it might be hard if it was someone who used to sneak me cakes or pick me back up when I had a rough time of it." He eyes the dead goblins, "Well, these assholes got worked up because I kicked their door down. Looks like there are eight sleeping mats in here though, so I imagine their friends will be trying to make their way back here if they were out...or they are in the dormitories waiting til we go to sleep."
The smell of death clung to the stone like an horse blanket, pungent even over the signs of the former goblin inhabitants. Sabeiha stiffened slightly when she heard the creak of a bowstring and turned towards the sound. When the straining string relaxed, she settled down although her hand was still on the handle. She had no particular fondness for novices, prone to panicking and other stupidity, they were wild cards waiting for the worst moment to play. While the others decided to talk with the group of adventurers if she had her guess, Sabeiha decided to start exploring the...church? Tongue-clicking she let her ears and nose lead her.
Geth roll 1d20+4 Level+Blind Hunter to root out any hidden goblins or surprises still laying in wait.
Level+Blind Hunter to root out any hidden goblins or surprises still laying in wait.:
Caldon frowns. He recognizes the symbol for what it is. Turning towards Geralt, he asks, "Was the Orc King involved with the Elder Elemental Eye? That's their symbol on that altar. Do you know how long it's been there?"
Leaving Sister Vaja to tend to Krista, Caldon also starts walking towards where the altar and supposed tower entrance would be and starts carefully examining for anything unusual.
Since I'm looking for stuff, I guess this is more of a perception type which I think are Wisdom based?
Geth roll 1d20+9 (for wis+level+tomb raiding experience)
astrobstrdSo full of mercy...Registered Userregular
Since this has come up a few times now, D&D tends to separate sensory abilities into passive and active skills. Passive skills are tied to Wisdom and active skills use Intelligence. Feel free to use either in the prologue, but once the main story starts a good rule of thumb would be to use Wisdom if I call for the role and Intelligence if you choose to search yourself. Being a PbP game, I am much more open to minimizing unnecessary rolling, especially when it involves vital story components, so these rolls will usually avert extra danger or be used to find a bonus rather than as a road block to the story or a dumb reason to TPK the group (Well everyone failed their perception check so you all get doused in lava...)
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As the immediate danger of the wolves seem to be gone, Caldon quickly starts looking for the survivors of the caravan.
"Lend me a hand here! If so many of us survived the avalanche unharmed, there's bound to be others. But if they haven't gotten up, then their injuries may be serious. Even if they're just knocked out, the cold will claim them by the morning if we don't get them out now."
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Not sure if I should roll refresh for my Lighting Fork spell, so I included it. I failed the check.
Spending 1 recovery.
27/27HP 7/8 recoveries
I used Int for the loot check, if I should use wisdom instead subtract 3 from my roll
Van takes a deep breath before joining Caldon in his search for survivors. "Of course Caldon, let me help. Is it alright if I call you that? Do you prefer Brother, Father, something else? I keep meaning to ask you that."
Any illusions that he shares the same motivations as the Cleric disappear once Vanminar spots a heavy coin purse on one of the corpses. He smoothly removes it from the late merchant's belt, and begins slipping it into his pocket, before glancing up at the group.
"Sorry, force of habit. We'll split this up, of course." Van throws the purse into a separate pile.
PSN: Boozer_777
You find 22 bodies and 10 dead horses and pack mules. Caldon finds one mule with two broken legs that he could easily heal if he wishes to, otherwise it would be a mercy to put it down. Just when all hope for survivors is abandoned, Maldras hears low moaning coming from a nearby tree. A young gnome priestess of Garl Glittergold is slowly regaining consciousness wedged between two large branches. You think that you remember that her name was Vaja and she was making the long journey to a burg south of New Port.
Setting up camp here seems like it would be a folly. The bodies already attracted wolves and this storm would make it nearly impossible to keep a fire going; if the weather gets worse you may end up buried by these drifts by morning. The steeple of the temple visible over the trees and hills in the moonlight looks like it is less than 45 minutes away.
"Come on, yer grace, it's the best we're gonna get for a bit and yer in the most dire need," he says, handing her the food. He makes similar sandwiches for anyone else who is hungry. He does apply a bit of earth magic to open graves for the 22 bodies, leaving them uncovered until Caldon or Vaja can conduct the proper rites. It's not the finest burial, although he does take some time to shape a surprisingly artistic memorial that shows tiny wolves, humanoids, and an avalanche in polished pink granite. For anyone who observes it's clear Fultur is a masterful artisan, even if his tools are his magic more than actual tools.
"I was hoping we might come back to do this duty in the morning, when the sun and whoever is in that temple could aid our task. But if we must consecrate the unfortunate tonight, we'd be better off not dying of cold."
So the bard sets to gathering the remains of the carriages and setting them alight.
Assuming that survival is Wis based, and Traveller lends to this.
But avalanches get everything wet.
"Van, it's complicated. While the Church has not actually defrocked me, they are still unhappy about my theological views and consider it heresy so I generally no longer take part in official functions. So while I could still be called Brother Caldon, I should also probably also get used to simply being called Caldon"
As all the bodies have now been recovered, Caldon goes around doing the abbreviated version of the Last Rites on each corpse so as to prevent their reanimation from the Lich King's magic.
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Once the rites are done, Golnar offers the gnome priestess a lift, as he assumes she isn't up to walking to the temple in her condition.
Twitch Stream
After Caldon's Last Rites, Van takes it upon himself to dole an equal share of the gold and rubies (21gp) to each of the survivors, including Vaja.
As an afterthough, Van grabs rations and torches from the caravan gear. "Time to pay our respects at the Temple, I suppose?" Van smiled, pointing the way.
PSN: Boozer_777
"Boy, that was somethin', huh? I dreamed I was in a big old rock tumbler and then I opened my eyes and saw wolves, figured this was just another dream, and shut 'em again. If I hadn't already bought into the luck of old Garl - and I do, lock, stock, and barrel, your grace..." She quickly makes a holy diamond motion with both of her hands before continuing, "I'd sure be a believer now. I'm sad to see all these folks go, but I guess if folks other than me had to make it, I'm glad it's a lot that knows how to get stuff done."
Vaja waves away the gold that Vanminar offers. "I'd be toast if was just me an' these wolves...but I will take up your offer of that pony to ride over there. Poor thing, I think that might even be Roy - Roy's what I named the pony holdin' all the food - and I sure did like Roy."
With great effort (and fumbling the incantation a few times), Vaja spares Caldon the task of healing "Roy" (still a mule and not a "pony") and does it herself. "If I'm on a pony, maybe you all will still see me when I fall into the snow." She chortles in a way that is simultaneously charming and quite annoying.
Maldras is able to suss out that you are currently in the Oberrly Veil, a small valley with dwarven and human settlements near Forge. This area was hit by the invasion of The Orc King and several small communities were destroyed. A few have been rebuilt, but lingering beasts and monsters have made rebuilding somewhat difficult.
Caldon recognizes the shape of the spire as a joint human and dwarven construction. This either indicates that it serviced a mixed race community or a human community that paid the dwarves to aid them (and then built something as unnecessary and stupid as a tower that any old wyvern might take a fancy to roost in). Given the region, it is likely a temple to Pelor, Kord, St. Cuthbert, or maybe Bahamut, The Great Gold Wyrm, though that seems less likely.
As an aside, around 60% of the populace of The Dragon Empire worships the gods of The Old Pantheon (confusing, since Vecna, The Lich King is a member of this pantheon). This pantheon is the one found in D&D's 3.5 PHB which I will detail below briefly. Feel free to elaborate on any of the gods listed below if it suits your fancy, or worship something else, or nothing at all.
Bahamut, The Great Gold Wyrm - King of Dragons. God of Good and Protector of the Empire.
Boccob - God of Magic
Corellon Larethian - God of the Elves (though many elves venerate their Queen and draw power from her, she does not claim to be a deity)
Ehlonna - Goddess of the Woodlands
Erythnul - God of Slaughter (illegal to worship)
Fharlanghn - God of Roads
Garl Glittergold - God of Gnomes
Gruumsh - God of the Orcs (illegal to worship and newest god other than Vecna)
Heironeous - God of Valor
Hextor - God of Tyranny (illegal to worship)
Kord - God of Strength
Moradin - God of the Dwarves
Obad-Hai - God of Nature (technically illegal to worship, but this is not enforced)
Olidammara - God of Thieves (illegal to worship)
Pelor - God of the Sun
St. Cuthbert - God of Retribution (only non-evil deity linked to The Crusader)
Vecna - God of Undeath and Secrets (legal to worship, but tightly controlled. The Lich King.)
Wee Jas - Goddess of Death and Magic (not illegal to worship, but fairly unpopular in the realm.)
Yondalla - Goddess of Halflings
PSN: Boozer_777
"If we're lucky we scared them off. But in my experience, bad luck comes in streaks." Van eyed the Temple steeple thoughtfully, before pulling out his pipe and offering Fultur a plug of smoke, in return for a touch of Moradin's Flame to light it.
PSN: Boozer_777
"I should be able to forge us a path through all this dreaded ice."
Caldon make sure he has his belongings and assists with whatever is necessary to get going.
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He watches Maldras trudge through the tall snow but shrugs and moves to follow the troubadour, who has at least managed to pack the snow down to a manageable level.
PSN: Boozer_777
Twitch Stream
The woods and land as you approach change in character. It appears as though this area suffered fire within the past few years. A few farmhouses, partially buried in the snow, display their burnt frames like rib cages sticking out of this iced earth. It is almost hard to imagine that anything ever grew here as you pass. You keep your eyes peeled for orcs in the ruins, but it appears as if you only have each other and the constant bite of the wind to contend with. As the temple nears, you see a few surrounding houses and buildings (likely an inn and general goods store) that mirror the ravaged countryside.
The temple itself is very impressive given the size of the community. Most everyone recognizes the symbol of Pelor, a golden disc, mounted prominently on top of a 45 foot tower. The tower is fixed to the rear of a stone church, all comprised of masterfully cut dwarven granite. The church is on the slope of a gently rising hill, that twists and drops down a few hundred feet into the valley that you originally landed in, giving it a dynamic profile even in the limited light. A few more stone buildings lay to the south and east of the large temple. This looked to be some sort of monastic order with a small support community. Compared to the farms and homes that you passed on the way around and up the hill, the temple appears to be in good condition, with only a few holes high in the walls and the front door hanging slightly off its frame.
What catches your attention as you get within 100 ft of the entrance is that there is light coming from within. You detect the faint scent of smoke.
Vaja gives a low whistle and clambers down off of Roy. "Huh, so that's what a church with money looks like. You think more travelers are holed up in that place or somethin' worse than a wolf?" Anyone who wished to travel near her on the trek up would have found her to be quite chatty and even chipper given the hard nature of the situation, but those with war experience know that some people hide fear and anxiety by overcompensating with a forced smile. She pulls out her diminutive axe and asks, "Should we go knock?"
He carefully raps a single finger on the door, sending a sharp, echoing knock echoing inside.
Twitch Stream
A gruff voice calls out from inside, "Tell us who ye are and state ye're business. We've got a dozen bows drawn on that door and the dead goblins inside will let ye know they work just fine."
Sabeiha's trained ears pick up the sound of two bows being drawn.
"I beg you, please stay your arrows! I am Vanminar Tel'Azahd. My companions and I seek shelter from the cold by your fire. Our caravan was destroyed by an avalanche not far from here, and many lost their lives. If not for these brave souls, I would be among them, for we survivors were then attacked by a starving wolf pack. It was only by trusting one another, and working together, that we were able to overcome such a terrible calamity.
Please allow us to share your fire, and we would be glad to add our strength to the defense of your camp."
PSN: Boozer_777
"Watch your tongue, old man. I'll open it, but you call me names again and I'll lay you out," sounds a second gruff voice.
You hear low chuckling, and in a moment, the door is pulled open, grinding against the ground with a painful groan by a tall, lean half-orc wearing the leather armor of an imperial scout. He looks to be about 17 years old and his face is highlighted by a brutal scar that zig-zags from his forehead across his nose and down to his right cheek. A bandolier of knives adorns his chest and he has a long wicked one on display in his left hand.
Just beyond the door, three goblin bodies are stacked on top of each other. Arrow wounds mark their heads and bodies. 25 feet into the structure a campfire smolders with the remains of splintered pews gathered around it. Crouched in front of the fire with a short bow trained on the door is an old human dressed in furs. He has the look (and if you get close enough, smell) of a man used to living off of the wilds. Another human youth, a portly 14 year old boy in ill-fitting hide armor and a steel helm, has a goblin bow trained on the door as well. His shaking hands let you know that he'd be lucky if his arrow sailed 10 feet. A third human, a female no older than 15, lays by the fire. Her leg is wrapped in strips ripped from her heavy robe and looks to be soaked in blood. Fultur and Van immediately recognize the patterned medallion on her neck that marks her as a first year Arcanum student.
The old man looks your group over and laughs "Guess some good luck had to come our way, since we used up all the bad, eh? Connor's prayers got answered by not one, but two holy rollers. My name is Geralt. Connor is the lad to me right. Anfus is the fool that let you in, and the lass here is Krista. She got a shot in the leg when we took this place. I got the arrow out, but my healin' herbs are back at me hovel."
Anfus glares at the ground and spits to his side, "Probably more of the little shits out there as well. I hope the cunts freeze." He slams the door shut once you are in and props a broken beam against it to secure it shut.
The building is about 150 ft. by 50 ft. with a cavernous 30 ft. ceiling that is held by magnificent arches. The floor slowly pitches upwards towards a dais and altar that takes up the entirety of the back 20 ft. of the temple. There is little in here that isn't destroyed or desecrated. 8 crude mats are scattered around the floor with small piles of animal bones and other filth scattered about. Though you are out of the snow, you do not feel at ease; there is something fouler than just a handful of goblins about this place.
Casters should tell me what spells they have ready. Don't worry about daily spells cast during the wolf encounter or recharging.
He glances at Anfus, who he quickly pegs as a veteran despite his age. It can be a rough life for a half-orc in the Empire, but the in the Legion at least he'd be judged on his merit. The portly human he quickly dismisses; probably one of the only locals left alive and not called to dangerous service. The young woman is clearly a mage, although she's only completed her first year at the Arcanum judging by her medallion, and injured to boot. Doubtful she's much help at the moment. He ignores Geralt for now. He'd have a chance to study the man more closely soon.
He pulls some food free of his harness and hands it to the half-orc, heading deeper in and giving some portion to the young boy and girl. He waits until the fur-covered human takes the bow off the group before handing him some food and one of the wine skins. "Jus' a bit of wine-cut water, nothin' fancy, but it won' give ye the runs."
He proceeds to take a look around, the pervasive feeling of wrongness reminding him of the Lost Mines.
Geth roll 1d20+4 for Looking Around.
As the case clicks open, the bard smiles at the old man.
"My name's Maldras, and we greatly appreciate the hospitality. The weather out there isn't so good for those of a delicate nature."
And with that, Maldras's lute emerges. At first glance, there appears nothing unusual about it. It's not stylised in any manner, and there are probably several hundred of the same wood-turner and pattern lying around.
But closer inspection, or just looking at Maldras's face, tells a different story. This lute has been with him for years, with the strings replaced again and again, and the neck and bridge well-worn with the passing of his hand. But the rest of the lute is relatively unscathed by the passage of this time, which, while quite easy to overlook, belies the amount of attention this instrument has received, and the work gone into keeping it unharmed.
The case is likely worth more than the lute itself, seeing as the inside is padded to a fine degree, and that the instrument didn't come out covered in snow.
The bard places the lute next to him by the fire, letting the strings breathe and removing and latent moisture from the instrument.
"Can't imagine there'd be many other folks braving the weather tonight, so what misfortune befell you all that we meet in this cheery chapel?"
This is 3+1+Crowd Control for reading a group of people's mood / musical preferences. Crowd control/tavern sense is meant to be a half performing skill / half adjusting to crowd fights. It's reading the mood of the crowd and adjusting or flowing with it, which extends into bar fight scenarios, where knowing who to avoid, how to distract and how to escape is half the battle. Being actually good at fighting would be the other (neglected) half.
Prepared Spells:
Breath of the White, Lightning fork, Scorching Ray, Color spray
Let me know if I should roll for each person individually.
Vanminar spoke to each of the survivors in turn, privately. With honeyed words and an easy smile he hoped to put them at ease, enough to relay details of their ordeal that they might otherwise choose to forget.
PSN: Boozer_777
"There's a good chance those goblins are already stiff as a board. I mean, I'm not sure if goblins are smart enough to start a fire in this weather. Anyway, what's your story? How'd you end up out here?"
Twitch Stream
"The girl, Krista was it? I am Brother Caldon, and this here is Sister Vaja. We can probably help with her leg. Do you mind if we take a look?
He motions at Sister Vaja to follow him.
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It seems like there should some sort of entrance to the steeple tower behind the altar, but you don't see anything. The altar also appears to be defiled with a symbol that looks like this:
@dracil @boozer @discrider
"Aye, ah bet ye're wonderin' why this lot are out here with a crazy old man." Geralt produces his pipe and fills it with a dank weed that soon produces a violet smoke. "This was the Dawn Reliquary, a lot of of pacifist priests and philosophers, more heart than sense, that supported this little community. It was the last bastion to fall as the Orc King tucked tail out three winters back. Ah make my way huntin' in the Veil - used to sell meat and furs to the monastary - and ah'm about the only fool that didn't flee or die."
"These lads are kids from this town and they heard that there were still beasties kickin' around the temple. That big lunk over there, britches big because he spent a season watchin' behemoths, decided that his friends could take this place back. Don't know why anyone would listen to him, specially a hedgemage that flunked outta her first year and a lad with all the hardness of a wounded doe. They got caught out in this storm and heard the howlin' of the wolves. Lucky for them, I was on a hunt nearby and got them back here. Turns out they were right about the beasties."
Krista is asleep and Caldon and Vaja are able to tend to her wounds without waking her. Connor paces as the clerics work. He meekly removes his helmet and kneels down to softly touch her cheek, "Thanks for helping my sister. She's the only family I have left and I don't know what I'd do without her around. I just want her to come back home and tease me...I won't even get mad or anything. Turns out she was right anyway, I'm not cut out to be an adventurer."
@Capfalcon
"I'm on leave right now from scouting and making sure those idiot Khans and their fucking cultists on the back of Sverdning, (a behemoth) don't violate their treaty and touch soil in the Empire. Important work, but boring as shit. Figured I'd use my leave to see some action and settle some scores."
Vanminar eyes the violet smoke with wonder. "Is that Queenshroud? I had no idea it grew in these woods. Could I trouble you for a pinch?"
The half-elf joins Fultur in looking over the temple. Van knew dwarven crafstmanship when he saw it, he was willing to lay odds that there was more to this temple than met the eye.
I used int + level + treasure hunter
edit: wow, Geth is on fire
PSN: Boozer_777
Not sure if this lore check is +8 (Int check) or +10 (Wis check)
Looking for who pushed the horde Orc King in this particular town, and how the clash went down.
His enthusiasm for a new story quelled somewhat when Geralt turns to the imminent threat.
"Wait, beasties? What kind of beasts?
Just the goblins?", he said hopefully.
Twitch Stream
Geth roll 1d20+6
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"Aye, tis the Queenshroud. Ye've a good nose, lad. Grown it meself for 40 years and had me plants charmed twice by druids to grow true."
The potent weed clouds Van's judgment and wisdom temporarily in a misty haze. He helps in Fultur's search, but can't see much past his own nose with clarity for a few moments.
To Maldras' question, Geralt gives him a side glance, "Aye, that cursed woman passed through. When the elves pushed her back in Hydemarch, she fled west instead of back north." Maldras remembers that the Orc King fled erratically as it became clear that her foray into the empire was premature. She abandoned the chance to fortify entrenched positions in order to raze more villages on her way out of the empire. If this village was in her way, then it would have faced an especially enraged army. A settlement of this size would have likely seen a swarm of goblins and kobolds left behind to make repopulation difficult, with a trusted sergeant or a hill giant to oversee the chaos and keep the dumber humanoids focused. Geralt confirms these suspicions when he replies, "Well, ye saw their cursed-spawn wolves out there. I've stayed clear of the Reliquary these past years, but I've had to kill a few goblins and kobolds that wandered too close to home. The tracks in here show somethin' bigger lurkin' here as well. I'd guess orcs, gnolls, or both."
Caldon recognizes the symbol immediately. It is the master symbol of the church of the Elder Elemental Eye, a massive cult that threatened twice to destroy the empire from their unholy temple about 150 miles northeast of here. The church also is subdivided into four sects that represent the basic elements of Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, but none of the sect iconography is visible in this room.
Anfus nods at Golnar. "The job is boring, but at least life following a behemoth keeps me on the move. It's nice to have some holy warriors on hand if the dead here didn't get consecrated...I want to think I could just knife a few skeletons or zombies down, but it might be hard if it was someone who used to sneak me cakes or pick me back up when I had a rough time of it." He eyes the dead goblins, "Well, these assholes got worked up because I kicked their door down. Looks like there are eight sleeping mats in here though, so I imagine their friends will be trying to make their way back here if they were out...or they are in the dormitories waiting til we go to sleep."
Leaving Sister Vaja to tend to Krista, Caldon also starts walking towards where the altar and supposed tower entrance would be and starts carefully examining for anything unusual.
Geth roll 1d20+9 (for wis+level+tomb raiding experience)
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