Despite what time you arrived at the trading post, the hour is now indeed late, for your conversation and meal has taken a long time to digest (both word and meal).
I have taken the liberty forward the map to everyone to examine, you should find that in your email soon. Also, if you woulnd't mind (if you haven't done it) please forward your finished character sheets to me soon.
Smendor, please hold off on that (sending your character), as I will be giving you gear that will no doubt modify your sheet soon. Thanks! iF you haven't heard from me soon, check your spam just in case. My email is Dain120475@aol.com
I would add it... you should already have it anyway.
"Hmm... If I ain't mistaken, then I would guess that all of us are here now as we've got the Charter from them that gave it to us. And why? Clearly to use it to stop bandits from hurting good an honest folk. Now you seem like all good lads and lasses; but I myself don't stand for, or sit by (for that matter) anyone who does wrong to innocent folk. It's a late bit, and o'l Oleg is pitching a fit we're camped in his house, no doubt about it. I say we tuck in, finish the grub, then maybe spread out and grab a bunk, as there's bunks to grab across the way. Then maybe, when the time be right for breakfest, we can wake up and talk business propper. Perhaps then this rain will have stopped. What do you say, eh?"
Ariarh welcomed the chance to shut her eyes for a moment or two. Dior was already tucking his head under his wing as the halfling was making his speech. Ry whispered, "Dream sweet, little one." She looked about the space for an unoccupied bunk, any warm place would do as she didn't sleep much. Just rest, she repeated to herself.
Ry addressed the halfling and those still present in the room. "I am fine with conducting business talk in the morning. Thank you. I think I'll head out to the stables to check on my horse."
Yeah, I could use a bit of rest myself. Alaric says with a yawn.
Smendor’s Signature Item
The air is clean and crisp, and you are walking through a lovely courtyard. The city in the background has long since dominated the ruins of what was once a fabulous temple, now long-forgotten and in disuse. The only ones who come here are those looking at a tangible glimpse into the past. Historians, tourists, and an occasional wanderer who is simply interested in good masonry.
Even as you are.
Therefore, as your teeth crunch into a sweet apple you look around you, and marvel at the noble statues; carved well and with such detail. You see marble finely crafted, though long weathered in the elements. Further, you see strange other statues, their stones are clearly not marble. You might say quartz, with the veins of color running through them, though you cannot be entirely sure.
In either case, your feet take you down a twist and turn through cracked pavement. Suddenly, you wipe your hand over your face, as if you feel somewhat feverish, then shake it off and keep walking.
But now your feet seem to have a will of their own, and you take a different course, moving through the ruins with a bold purpose. Again the feverish feeling, stronger this time, and again you brush it off.
So it goes until finally you reach a length of statues carved in the features of various races. Humans, elves, and other things… and in the far right corner, you are fairly jogging toward it… is a lone dwarf!
The statue is one of a mighty warrior; his features are near faded, but what strikes you odd is that his beard matches the way you wear your own, even though you cannot see the marks of his face.
It is said that dwarves believe in the idea that their spirit is reborn into their own kindred. That the Eldest of their race, The Father, has been reborn into over thirteen generations, and the current chief of the largest clan claims his empire through direct descendent from that noble bloodline.
You are not a priest, nor sure of these grave policies or religious concepts. But you are certain that this figure, for some reason, greatly resembles you. What, however, is most odd is that unlike any other statue, who’s weapon and gear are carved from rock, this one bears a shield which is made of metal.
The metal is bronze, and therefore unremarkable, so you think. Yet, there is something strange… Bronze molds with age. And this should long since have aged green with mold. Yet it is as if it had come straight from the forge. There, in the center of the shield, is carving a dragon, and though you have little knowledge of dragons, per se, you are suddenly certain it is a Bronze Dragon, and one of imperial lineage. How you know this, you are not certain.
A sudden feverish feeling brushes over you again, and you reach your fingers to the shield, as if to touch it. It feels cool to the touch, but as your fingers grace it, a shock shudders through you.
“Ahld-dukat,” you whisper, as if speaking a name.
Suddenly the shield feels hot to the touch, and you jerk your hand back swiftly. But the shield is unmoved, unaffected. Or… IS it…
There, where the carven bronze eyes should have looked out lifelessly you espy a strange red glow kindled, then it fades, as if lingering.
You do not know what this means, but feel more certain then anything in your life that she shield was MEANT for you, and, with trembling hands, you take it.
Even as you slide it over your arm, the statue for the dwarf suddenly cracks, and pops, then tumbles and you leap back, holding up the shield instinctively; calling out the name you mentioned before.
A burst of flame courses from the shield and smolders the statue. You look down on it with awe, and touch it reverently, then hurry from the ruins. You are not afraid of discovery, but you now feel a drive toward something greater…
Shield Stats –
This is a bronze shield, with the emblem of a Bronze Dragon on it. For all statistical purposes it is treated as a normal “Light Steel Shield” though it is made of Bronze, perhaps it is some sort of “celestial bronze…”
In either case, it has a +2 Shield Bonus attached to it.
Further, while carrying the shield, even if you aren’t using it, you automatically get a Damage Reduction of one point against all fire-based attacks.
Further, if you utter the name “Ahld-dukat” you are able to ignite a flame from your shield. This power is equal to the spell “burning hands” in all ways, but the caster level is you character level. Instead of using “Intelligence” as your primary casting statistic, however, you will use “Wisdom”.
You may use this power as a Free Action. It may be used as many times a day as your current Wisdom Modifier.
Further, you sense a great and powerful presence within the shield, which seems to be always trying to communicate with you. As you become more “experienced” you may learn more about this power, and what powers it shall grant you.
you may want to read what this does,then ammend your character sheet before resending it.
Yeah, I could use a bit of rest myself. Alaric says with a yawn.
Ry turns to Alaric, "Sleep well. May the blessing of light be with you."
Leto perks up in an almost comical manner when Tess invites him to her room, then pales at what she says soon after. "Um... no, of course, just talking. That's fine." His eyes go the murky blue of a half-stagnant pond. "It would be improprietous of me to do anything else. Anyhow," The boy continues as they head to her room, "what's that word you keep using? Forlorn? Sounds a bit like a slur to me..." he motions to Tabak to follow him to his room and the giant does so without comment. "Do you know anything about elves with reddish eyes?" He asks, suddenly serious, the grin falling for the first time completely from his face. He thought silently about the scrap of painting he had stolen that was still in his backpack on Tabak's back. The artist had painted his supposed father's eye red. Tabak claimed it was likely a drop of spilled paint, or a mistroke, but Leto wasn't sure. I wonder if his eyes changed, like mine started to after that night. Maybe a day or two later they were blue, and then that brown green, or grey. He chewed his lip in thought. Should I show her what else I can do... I've seen mages do similar things, but I can feel it... the air, the earth, the water... and fire. Maybe she knows that. He raised a hand and opened his mouth, then shut it. No. I have no idea what I'd be admitting to. Demons, devils, dark fey. Plenty of things can do that. Best to keep quiet for now. The boy listened for his answer and held his tongue.
Tessara bid a good night to the rest of the group left in the dinning area and followed Leto to his room. A slight smile came across her face at his persistent questions. Forlorn...it refers to people with elven blood that didn't grow up in Kyonin. It really is supposed to apply to full bloods only but who's to know. Since there is limited space why don't we set our stuff in our rooms and then find somewhere quiet to talk, so we don't desterb the others. She then goes to another part of the bunk house and puts her stuff down on the bunk and started to take her armor off. She laid it out on the bed to dry, as nothing smells worse then wet leather. She then sat down on the bed and started to take off her make shift shoes. Once done she goes and finds Leto and they head off to a part of the house to talk.
She'll explain to him all about Kyonin and the elves that live there and will try to answer any questions he can think of. She doesn't ask anymore of her own questions because she doesn't want to upset him. She could sense earlier that he wasn't really comfortable talking about himself so she would leave it be for now. She is willing to do this until he gets tired and wants to go to bed but if that doesn't happen she will stay up all night talking with him.
The sky is overcast and cloudy and there is still the threat of more rain to come. The day is cold, gray and miserable. There is a slow rising mist from the fens and grasses of the plains.
A being steps from the long, low row of sleeping quarters. He is wearing a set of midnight blue leather armor; a white falcon is emblazoned on it. He is wearing black leather bracers with the same falcon symbol etched in gold thread on them. He is carrying a bundle of goods and gear, and a long, extremely well-crafted Aldori sword dangles from his hip. A pistol hangs from his right hip, and another is slung under his left arm.
When he arrives at the stables he moves quietly and eases one of the mounts from the stables; first rubbing down the beast, and giving it an apple. Then, after a moment, he pulls a well-made saddle over the creature’s back and cinches it tightly. When the beast is fully saddled, he unrolls the bundle – it is a black cloak with a silver broach in the shape of a falcon which he fastens around his throat. He lifts from a pile where his saddle rested a long musket; checks the priming, examines the site, and slides it into the loop that dangles from his saddle, steadying it in the lasso of thick hemp rope.
Petting the beast on its nose, he takes the reigns and quietly leads it to the gate. His eyes are flat and stern, and when he reaches the gate, he gently pushes it open, and urges the mount through softly. Then, he swings himself into the saddle, drawing his hood lover his features.
I am not hearing anything from anyone else...now. I will be up for a bit, checking for answers. If no more are forthcomming, I shall wait till tomorrow. Otherwise, those who are willing to roll, are free to do so and results passed out.
Alaric sleeps until someone wakes him for breakfast. He is not normally an early riser, more of a night owl.
Smendor entered the common room after most of the conversation had finished. Many of the other patrons had already left for night. Those that where in the room at the time he entered see a well groomed dwarf that really just want to crash. He really does not pay much attention to anyone.
He simply makes his way over to the fire place, takes a set, leans against the wall, and unless forced from the room he simply falls asleep. He did not remove his boot nor really prepare for the night he simply lost the will to keep his eyes open.
Perception to wake and hear the horse leave:
Perception:
Smendor entered the common room after most of the conversation had finished. Many of the other patrons had already left for night. Those that where in the room at the time he entered see a well groomed dwarf that really just want to crash. He really does not pay much attention to anyone.
He simply makes his way over to the fire place, takes a set, leans against the wall, and unless forced from the room he simply falls asleep. He did not remove his boot nor really prepare for the night he simply lost the will to keep his eyes open.
Perception to wake and hear the horse leave:
Perception: 1d20 + 10
Regetably, your perception score should only be a 9, not a +10. Militant Merchant only works against surprise. Also, this roll is only useful if you are awake at dawn. If you are awake at dawn, then you can make the roll. The question is: would you be awake at dawn, or sleeping in till breakfest, or something like that?
Perception:
The previous night:
Gideon enjoys the conversation immensely. He's never seen such a lively and varied group of people (meaning humanoids). This gives him hope that his decision to explore the wide world was a good one. GIven the lack of available sleeping space Gideon decides to sleep with his horse. Being a frontiersman already this is something he has done on more than one occasion.
The next morning:
Gideon is usually an early riser during his training. His body naturally wakes early and he was often the first one waiting in the temple grounds for morning training.
Perception
As he wakes this morning he hears someone else in the stable and quietly peers over the stall to see who.
Footnote: His horse is named Vesta. He used the majority of his earnings to buy her from the monks. He's raised her since she was a calf.
Quick note to all... I am pleased with character sheets, in any form. Word works well for me; I have already prepared several in word. If you would like a blank word character sheet, I will send it out to the email adresses. Anyone can use it if you like, but I will need something from each of you soon. Especially if you wish to participate in any form of combat...
Alaric sleeps until someone wakes him for breakfast. He is not normally an early riser, more of a night owl.
You toss and turn somewhat fitfully in your sleep. Dreams come to you, and they are both mocking, haunting and disturbing. Yet through them all is the hint of a promise of something greater, something more powerful...
The words echo in your subconcious, or variances of them as you dream. You see nothing, only swirling darkness, but are AWARE of something more..
"Know, oh Man, that great and terrible power are thine for the taking, if thou hast the power and force of Will to dominate thy enemies. In thy keeping is a tool of great strength, perhaps a Strength more powerful then thy can concieve. Shall thee take it, or sit idly by, trembling in thy security, biding thy time, waiting for something greater? Or shall thou reach forth thy hand and seize this thing, and make it thy own? Is there within thy spirit the strength to take it; to wrest to thy keeping that which might be thine own, or shall thy merely cower, and wait... hoping for greatness? I call to thee, oh Man! I challenge thy spirit, thy will for dominion. Shall thee accept this challenge, or shall thou wait?"
The dreams persist, growing more and more frustrating. You awake, shortly before dawn, and wonder what you should do. Even as you ponder this, the item passed to you by the old man grows heavy on your heart. You feel its presence pulsing in your very being. You know that it is calling to you. Will you take the challenge, or wait another day?
NOTE: If you wish to accept the challenge you may make a Willpower roll. You will not know the target number, not yet, but sense that if you fail the roll, your body may suffer harm. Yet... if you succeed...
ADENDUM: Yes, this allows you to be awake before dawn. However, this particular task has you extremely preocupied and prevents you from rolling a perception roll.
Let me know your plan soon. One minor suggestion if you DO decide to accept the challenge: Roll High...
Day two Perception Stuff
The dawn is cold and clammy, as you may recall. For those of you that are awake, the difficulty for the Perception is 15. If you succeeded at that roll, please feel free to read the spoiler, and take whatever action you see fit.
The person wearing the ornate armor and firearms is none other then the Halfling cook from the night before. The Aldori Dueling sword is clearly made for one of his size, and it is likely he earned it, for he treats it like its ownership is second nature.
[occ]The crest on the shoulder can be identified by anyone who wants to roll a Knowledge Nobility roll (Difficulty 12) and has observed it. [/occ]
He moves quietly, as though trying not to awaken anyone, but not as if he is trying to hide anything. His face has none of the mirth and brevity that was so writ on it the night before. Rather, it is dark, brooding, and intense.
The mount he is leading out is the same pony that was in the stable the night before. His face looks grim. For those of you who are awake, you may question him, or ignore him. In either case, if he is not stopped, he will continue quietly outside the gate, with his gear and goods and mount. When he exits the gate, he will close it gently behind him, though it is still unbolted.
Let me know what you want to do in the meantime.
For the rest, Oleg will awake about an hour or so after dawn and begin preparing breakfast for everyone. This should take about a half an hour to make a meal for a group this large. When he is done, he will summon people to breakfast.
Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
"You know me lad, or ought to, for we met yesterday. The mount is mine, and none other's, if you would ask. But as for myself, I am leaving to gather food for breakfest, for we took much from the good keeper of this place for our bellies, and coin does not restock shelves so easily when we are so far a those who would bring it. You ate more then most, though less then some. If you've a mind, come with me, and we'll bring back a treat to our fair host,". Brett answers with a cool though polite voice, examining the half-orc as if they have only just met.
The halfling waits for a moment, if no comment is forthcomming, he turns and continues to exit as mentioned before.
** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
*in the barn still *
that's very considerate of you. I would be honored to join you on your trip.
Gideon goes to assist in gathering.
** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
*in the barn still *
that's very considerate of you. I would be honored to join you on your trip.
Gideon goes to assist in gathering.
Are you mounted or on foot? And what gear (if any) are you bringing?
Are you mounted or on foot? And what gear (if any) are you bringing?** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
*in the barn still *
that's very considerate of you. I would be honored to join you on your trip.
Gideon goes to assist in gathering.
I have a horse and a small traveling pack. Ive got both in the stall with me. I quickly saddle vesta (my horse).
** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
Ariarh listened to both men before speaking (and making her presence known).
"Gentlemen. I see I'm not the only one up at this hour. I could not help overhearing your conversation. Would you be open to a third travelling with you? I have my own horse and backpack."
** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
Ariarh listened to both men before speaking (and making her presence known).
"Gentlemen. I see I'm not the only one up at this hour. I could not help overhearing your conversation. Would you be open to a third travelling with you? I have my own horse and backpack."
im not the spearhead of this errand, but I have no objection to additional presence.
Gideon looks to the man for evidence of how he feels about an additional member
Smendor is calmly sleeping in the back corner of A6 just to the right of the fireplace. It is simply the location that he lost consciousness, and no one ever gave him a poke or a kick to wake him up. About the time Oleg starts making breakfast, and causing a little noise Smendor will come back to life with one of those little o crap where am I jumps.
He calmly rubs his eyes and blinks a few times in an attempt to identify his surroundings. He spends a short while thinking back to the night before. I remember the gate and someone talking about butter after that it all went black. Good I have started this little adventure on the right food. Well it is time to address the damages and go about the day than.
Smendor stands only to realize he went to sleep in wet dirty clothing, and he is very uncomfortable. He thinks to himself, “ I have done his house a great disservice.”
He makes his way to the commotion that broke his dreamy slumber, and will interrupt the first person he can find, “I am most humbly sorry for the way I came into your home. I na not know how I could enter your home and display myself in such a way. He waits for a few seconds. I would like to pay my bill soon, but at this time I simply must have a good wash, so could you point me to a good place to be ride of the smell I have attracted.
After learning where he could clean himself Smendor will make his way there with his backpack.
** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
Ariarh listened to both men before speaking (and making her presence known).
"Gentlemen. I see I'm not the only one up at this hour. I could not help overhearing your conversation. Would you be open to a third travelling with you? I have my own horse and backpack."
im not the spearhead of this errand, but I have no objection to additional presence.
Gideon looks to the man for evidence of how he feels about an additional member
REGARDING PEOPLE ON JOURNEY:
"The more of us the more food we shall bring back. But this is a party dedicated to gathering food in the wild; this no... "Hobbit Walking Expedition". If you are ready to come, then come," he says with a nod and a deep voice from under the volumnious hood.
As the three of you turn through the gate, you tack course slowly out to the southern fens. There is a road that runs east west at gate, but his course moves you south. About fifty yards from the pallisade walls he lets out a sharp whistle, then takes from a small satchel at his side a dead bird on a string, which he quickly spins over his head.
After a moment another cry, keening and sharp, can be made out in the early day. Glancing up, you notice a falcon flying, and it is descending in a wide low circle until it lands near Brett. He offers the falcon the lure, and it hops on the perch afixed to his saddle.
Brett urges his mount on at a quick trot, occasionally checking the horizon for signs of life. This goes on for about a half hour, before he checks his mount, hops off the beast, and checks the ground for a moment.
"This is strange..." he says softly, calling you too him.
Make a Survival Roll please, if you are with him.
Alaric awakes with a start and immediately pulls the ring from his neck. Sweat clings to his body as he turns it over and over in his hand. Will...Strength...What is this thing that has come to me? He thinks to himself tiredly. As he sits there studying it he goes over and over the encounter that led him to possess the ring. Who was that man? I do not believe it mere coincidence that he came to be there when Shaeria and I were wandering through the valley. Especially considering he disappeared immediately after giving it to me. Shaeria...oh how I wish you were here with me. You were always the one to figure things like these out. I marvel at your intelligence and spirit. You counseled me to caution regarding it and I have heeded your advice. But now with this dream...I don't know...perhaps it is time to take a risk.
Alaric looks at it again and decides to wait just a bit longer...the morning is not the time to do this with who knows what will happen today. He resolves himself to test the ring tonight.
What's a hobbit walking expedition?
Smendor is calmly sleeping in the back corner of A6 just to the right of the fireplace. It is simply the location that he lost consciousness, and no one ever gave him a poke or a kick to wake him up. About the time Oleg starts making breakfast, and causing a little noise Smendor will come back to life with one of those little o crap where am I jumps.He calmly rubs his eyes and blinks a few times in an attempt to identify his surroundings. He spends a short while thinking back to the night before. I remember the gate and someone talking about butter after that it all went black. Good I have started this little adventure on the right food. Well it is time to address the damages and go about the day than.
Smendor stands only to realize he went to sleep in wet dirty clothing, and he is very uncomfortable. He thinks to himself, “ I have done his house a great disservice.”
He makes his way to the commotion that broke his dreamy slumber, and will interrupt the first person he can find, “I am most humbly sorry for the way I came into your home. I na not know how I could enter your home and display myself in such a way. He waits for a few seconds. I would like to pay my bill soon, but at this time I simply must have a good wash, so could you point me to a good place to be ride of the smell I have attracted.
After learning where he could clean himself Smendor will make his way there with his backpack.
IF YOU ARE AT THE TRADE POST ON OR NEAR BREAKFEST:
Oleg is awake and his face is scruffy and worn. He is wiping his broad hand over a sniffle, and fetches a bucket of water, which he pours over his head.
"Hmm... seems like some of your friends have already left." he mutters. "Well, more breakfest for us I suppose," he grumbles darkly.
Pulling some damp wood from a large pile he attempts to re-kindle the central fire in the courtyard which is nominally coverd under a canopy. But the spot is still smeared with damp pools of rain water. The fire takes a while to kindle, but Oleg seems nervous, edgy.
"Well, I won't lie to you," he mutters to anyone who can hear "I'll be right glad to have anyone here today, and mayhap the next few days..." he adds, if putting a bold face on some troubles.
"We've been having troubles with bandit folk, as you no doubt know, what with you having the charter. But we've been getting their scum riding through more and more frequent. In fact," he adds somewhat on edge "they may be comming, even today. Normally come toward the end of the month, but I don't know when they will come. But if it be today... well, I'd like to maybe talk about, how to go about the business of protecting ourselves. I have a few ideas, but I'm open to more," he adds, looking around expectantly at those surrounding him. He seems somewhat hopeful, as if those around him may offer a tangible solution to the problems.
** spoiler omitted **Opening the stall where he as sleeping, staff in one hand as one would carry a walking stick.
and who might you be, sir, who comes early in the dawn hours and takes a horse?
Ariarh listened to both men before speaking (and making her presence known).
"Gentlemen. I see I'm not the only one up at this hour. I could not help overhearing your conversation. Would you be open to a third travelling with you? I have my own horse and backpack."
im not the spearhead of this errand, but I have no objection to additional presence.
Gideon looks to the man for evidence of how he feels about an additional member
REGARDING PEOPLE ON JOURNEY:
"The more of us the more food we shall bring back. But this is a party dedicated to gathering food in the wild; this no... "Hobbit Walking Expedition". If you are ready to come, then come," he says with a nod and a deep voice from under the volumnious hood.
As the three of you turn through the gate, you tack course slowly out to the southern fens. There is a road that runs east west at gate, but his course moves you south. About fifty yards from the pallisade walls he lets out a sharp whistle, then takes from a small satchel at his side a dead bird on a string, which he quickly spins over his head.
After a moment another cry, keening and sharp, can be made out in the early day. Glancing up, you notice a falcon flying, and it is descending in a wide low circle until it lands near Brett. He offers the falcon the lure, and it hops on the perch afixed to his saddle.
Brett urges his mount on at a quick trot, occasionally checking the horizon for signs of life. This goes on for about a half hour, before he checks his mount, hops off the beast, and checks the ground for a moment.
"This is strange..." he says softly, calling you too him.
Make a Survival Roll please, if...
Survival:
Perception:Ariarh moves directly to his side, glancing in the direction of Brett's gaze.
What's a hobbit walking expedition?
Anyone can make a Survival Check, no matter what their skill rank is. If you have no ranks, it defaults to a Wisdom Check.
Further, after your Survival roll, make a Perception check.
Brett looks at your comment flatly before he urges his mount outward from the gate.
What's a hobbit walking expedition?
Anyone can make a Survival Check, no matter what their skill rank is. If you have no ranks, it defaults to a Wisdom Check.
Further, after your Survival roll, make a Perception check.
Brett looks at your comment flatly before he urges his mount outward from the gate.
survival
perception
What's a hobbit walking expedition?
Anyone can make a Survival Check, no matter what their skill rank is. If you have no ranks, it defaults to a Wisdom Check.
Further, after your Survival roll, make a Perception check.
Brett looks at your comment flatly before he urges his mount outward from the gate.
survival 1d20+2
perception 1d20+7
Yikes! You forget to show your perception roll.
What's a hobbit walking expedition?
Anyone can make a Survival Check, no matter what their skill rank is. If you have no ranks, it defaults to a Wisdom Check.
Further, after your Survival roll, make a Perception check.
Brett looks at your comment flatly before he urges his mount outward from the gate.
survival 1d20+2
perception 1d20+7There seems to be some sort of bug. I cannot see your rolls for Perception. I can only see the numbers 1d20+7, I can't actually see the results for your roll, though Ariarh seems to be able to (we are on Skype now). Please keep a heads up for this bug, as it may complicate other things too.
As a wave of water rushes forward Leto's eyes, watery as they were before, snap open. The water freezes in a half dome about him. "I will be out in a moment." He says, allowing the water to fall harmlessly away from his things. Water again today. I don't understand why it changes, and I still can't see a pattern to it.
After spending one minute calling Tabak, and bringing up the Mark on his cheek: "Morning Tabak, your blade is in the corner. Perhaps we should join the others for food." With that Leto helps his friend take up his pack and strap on his sword and then heads into the main house, yawning. "Hmm, this fare is delicious Oleg, but where is your cook?" he asks curiously, looking around for the little fellow.
"I would absolutely help with the bandits Oleg. Any who prey on the weak in their land need to be taken care of." His watery eyes focused, alert and watchful, I suppose I should have a look around, after all, this area was once a fort. Could these fortifications be built up a bit with help? Or any ideas of yours will likely be more helpful of course. You know the area better than I." Leto sits back, fiddling with his breakfast and listening closely.
As a wave of water rushes forward Leto's eyes, watery as they were before, snap open. The water freezes in a half dome about him. "I will be out in a moment." He says, allowing the water to fall harmlessly away from his things. Water again today. I don't understand why it changes, and I still can't see a pattern to it.
After spending one minute calling Tabak, and bringing up the Mark on his cheek: "Morning Tabak, your blade is in the corner. Perhaps we should join the others for food." With that Leto helps his friend take up his pack and strap on his sword and then heads into the main house, yawning. "Hmm, this fare is delicious Oleg, but where is your cook?" he asks curiously, looking around for the little fellow.
"I would absolutely help with the bandits Oleg. Any who prey on the weak in their land need to be taken care of." His watery eyes focused, alert and watchful, I suppose I should have a look around, after all, this area was once a fort. Could these fortifications be built up a bit with help? Or any ideas of yours will likely be more helpful of course. You know the area better than I." Leto sits back, fiddling with his breakfast and listening closely.
Oleg nods sagely at your comments.
"Well indeed, master. It is a solid of an outpost as I could contrive, aided somewhat by the lords of the surrounding lands. It was they that come up with the idea of building these towers... 'cept they added catapults. I was the one who done away with that, and replaced 'em with balista. What use are catapults against charging riders, eh? Why, they can't turn with a damn, and all it takes is a lad to leap out o' their firing way. Balista can fire a straight line at a target... but it takes a crew of two to man 'em right. One to load and adjust the gear, the other to monitor the aim then fire when the time is right. Course, you could do all that as one man, but by then..." he shrugs helplessly.
"In any case, last couple of times we get a pessle of riders, hard to say how many will come, but they do come in the end of the month, which is nigh on hand. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. Doubt we could fight them, at least ALL Of them... but maybe with a little luck... damn shame that near half of your crew let out this monring, they could have been useful, especially after drinking my best beer, too," he adds with a growl.
"Look, I'm not tactician, just a simple tradesmen. I don't know fighting. You tell me what to do, I'll help. Hell, I'll lead the charge, 'cept I got a wife to think about. But just give the order and I'll do what I can. Meantime, the wife's inside cutting some breakfest. Once we get this fire going and some water steaming, we'll fix you up something good. You take honey in your cofee, or you want it black? Better that then beer before a fight, if it's commming..." he adds the last to himself.
THOSE ON THE FIELD:
The perception roll was a 15, so we're all good here.
To the north, about three or four miles on the top of a fern is small campsite with a few horses. You notice it on the side of the hill. It is clearly built south of the trade post which is still north of it.
It is clear to all of you that the three riders are camped to camoflouge their position. They have set up their mounts and gear lower on the hill then they should, so that anyone looking from the north can not see them.
At this point Brett silently passes around a thin spyglass to each of you, which he removes from his satchel. A momenst glance shows that the horses are mudstained and must have been ridden all night. Further, they are currently hobbled with cord so they don't run off in the night; meaning no one set up a watch. Further, the three riders are well armed, but they are all wrapped in blankets and seem to be sleeping. Further, there is a pit dug for a fire, but it is currently burned out ash. They seem completely dead to the world.
"Hmmm... Brett mutters "if I don't miss my guess I'd say these folk be bandits. They obviously are trying to be hidden. But from what? The tradespost yonder, only a few miles away? Why camp through the night in the rain, if they could advance? I don't think anyone would reach this point from traveling south across the main road, and the tracks came from the south. There's not but wild country there... and bandits who ride from it."
"Well," he says turning to you both "three on three... I like those odds. Mayhap these are advance scouts? In either case, they make a better treat for Oleg then a wild elk or deer. What do you say? How shoudl we proceeed?" he asks. Though clearly, his mind is ready for action and his desire ready to take these men hostages, or at least interogate them roundly. He may be wrong on his assumptions though, but his logic seems sound. Nevertheless, he seems to await your decision on the matter.
"Well indeed, master. It is a solid of an outpost as I could contrive, aided somewhat by the lords of the surrounding lands. It was they that come up with the idea of building these towers... 'cept they added catapults. I was the one who done away with that, and replaced 'em with balista. What use are catapults against charging riders, eh? Why, they can't turn with a damn, and all it takes is a lad to leap out o' their firing way. Balista can fire a straight line at a target... but it takes a crew of two to man 'em right. One to load and adjust the gear, the other to monitor the aim then fire when the time is right. Course, you could do all that as one man, but by then..." he shrugs helplessly.
"In any case, last couple of...
Honey, definitely, Alaric says with a grin as he walks up, he was lounging in the doorway while they were talking. As far as these bandits go, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that may even the odds quite a bit. He says this last with another of his grins. Anyone who looks closely can see that instead of the easy grin and laugh that Alaric had last night, this looks a little bit forced.
But first, can you give us an idea of how they operate? How many usually come? Do they all come in the gate or do some stay outside? What sorts of men are they? Do they have someone who speaks for them or an obvious leader? He asks these questions one at a time waiting for an answer before moving on to the next, while sitting down for coffee and breakfast.
"Well indeed, master. It is a solid of an outpost as I could contrive, aided somewhat by the lords of the surrounding lands. It was they that come up with the idea of building these towers... 'cept they added catapults. I was the one who done away with that, and replaced 'em with balista. What use are catapults against charging riders, eh? Why, they can't turn with a damn, and all it takes is a lad to leap out o' their firing way. Balista can fire a straight line at a target... but it takes a crew of two to man 'em right. One to load and adjust the gear, the other to monitor the aim then fire when the time is right. Course, you could do all that as one man, but by then..." he shrugs helplessly.
"In any case, last couple of...
Honey, definitely, Alaric says with a grin as he walks up, he was lounging in the doorway while they were talking. As far as these bandits go, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that may even the odds quite a bit. He says this last with another of his grins. Anyone who looks closely can see that instead of the easy grin and laugh that Alaric had last night, this looks a little bit forced.
But first, can you give us an idea of how they operate? How many usually come? Do they all come in the gate or do some stay outside? What sorts of men are they? Do they have someone who speaks for them or an obvious leader? He asks these questions one at a time waiting for an answer before moving on to the next, while sitting down for coffee and breakfast.
"Tricks up your sleeve... Why do thy prattle on such matters... Take what is thine and use the strength to crush thy enemies... Thy petty tricks, they are but nothing to the power that is before thee... if thy have the strength to take it... Where is thy heart, O Man! Where is thy force of will? But content thyself with thy tricks... for now... in time, thou may choose to come to me... then thy shall no TRUE power!"
"Well indeed, master. It is a solid of an outpost as I could contrive, aided somewhat by the lords of the surrounding lands. It was they that come up with the idea of building these towers... 'cept they added catapults. I was the one who done away with that, and replaced 'em with balista. What use are catapults against charging riders, eh? Why, they can't turn with a damn, and all it takes is a lad to leap out o' their firing way. Balista can fire a straight line at a target... but it takes a crew of two to man 'em right. One to load and adjust the gear, the other to monitor the aim then fire when the time is right. Course, you could do all that as one man, but by then..." he shrugs helplessly.
"In any case, last couple of...
Honey, definitely, Alaric says with a grin as he walks up, he was lounging in the doorway while they were talking. As far as these bandits go, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that may even the odds quite a bit. He says this last with another of his grins. Anyone who looks closely can see that instead of the easy grin and laugh that Alaric had last night, this looks a little bit forced.
But first, can you give us an idea of how they operate? How many usually come? Do they all come in the gate or do some stay outside? What sorts of men are they? Do they have someone who speaks for them or an obvious leader? He asks these questions one at a time waiting for an answer before moving on to the next, while sitting down for coffee and breakfast.
Oleg nods eagerly at your comments, as sort of "let's get down to business" look on his face. Even as he talks his wife is bringing out a large tin that smells of hot coffee and some tin cups. He quickly pours some, and you taste its potency even as your toes curl... The honey mellows it... somewhat.
"Well, the the thing of it is, they follow some dark b*%## of a captain. We've but seen her once, but after her presence naught it all. The little whore-spawn stole me wife's wedding band right of her finger, gods curse them!"
He pauses a moment and wipes his face with his hand, and drinks a gulp of the coffee.
"She has some sort of lad that follows her the first time. Big son-of-b**!%, but dumb as a post, if I say so. But he leads the folk that come... Riders mostly. The last few times we didn't see naught but six in total, him included, but who knows? Rumor is that there might be more comming... for they be hasty folk and the word is out that your kind is here to help out... but I shouldn't think more then eight at most, or less... They ride to the gate, force me to open up, and strut about the place like they own it; help themselves to food stuffs mostly, and some stores of goods, nothing too fancy. They don't take gold as I've seen. They want supplies more then coin, but they don't seem bright enough to look for it neither. But six, eight, ten or twenty! We can take 'em all, with you lads here, and if we stick together, I'D say we'd put 'em down, and down dead!" he adds the last with a thump of his fist on the table.
"Tricks up your sleeve... Why do thy prattle on such matters... Take what is thine and use the strength to crush thy enemies... Thy petty tricks, they are but nothing to the power that is before thee... if thy have the strength to take it... Where is thy heart, O Man! Where is thy force of will? But content thyself with thy tricks... for now... in time, thou may choose to come to me... then thy shall no TRUE power!"
Not one to back down from a direct challenge, Alaric all of a sudden says, Fine, have it your way! and slams a ring onto his finger.