Feral's Wardstone Patrol (Inactive)

Game Master Feral

Gameplay goes here.

Let's go!

Forsooth!

Standing waist high to the Aasimar, Susan looks directly at Titus' bum.
"You have a nice backside."

Mendev’s Pathfinder lodge in the capital city of Nerosyan is housed within Starrise Spire, a defensive tower in the outer wall whose pinnacle glows with celestial light that shines out like a beacon, simultaneously giving comfort to Nerosyan’s defenders and acting as a warning to any who might wish the city harm.

Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury calls a short meeting on a covered balcony overlooking the city. A middle-aged Mwangi man with greying hair, he closes the door to the spire’s interior and takes a seat in one of the set-up camp chairs, gesturing for his guests to do the same.

“We Pathfinders of Mendev,” he states, making a sweeping hand gesture that encompasses everyone present, “have our own agendas, but these must sometimes give way to the greater need: the protection of this land and its people from the horrors that dwell in the Worldwound."

“We are here by the grace of her majesty, Queen Galfrey of Mendev. Without her support, we would surely be run out of town by Hulrun’s more fervent followers. Our agreement with her states that all Pathfinders are required to volunteer some of their time in the defense of the realm. As relative newcomers, I’ve recommended you to take part in a minor military mission under the command of a veteran crusader named Sir Ilivan of Erages. Although he is not a Pathfinder, you would be wise to follow his advice, as he has been fighting the Abyssal spawn longer than some of you have been alive. I expect you will give him the respect he deserves.”

Venture-Captain Jorsal stands and opens the heavy wooden door leading back into the lodge, revealing a tall half-elven man clad in heavy plate armor, wearing a red tabard typical of the Mendevian Crusaders, and carrying a cavalry helmet in his left hand. He gives a professional nod to Jorsal before striding to the front of the group, surveying everyone with poorly disguised disappointment.

“Pathfinders,” he barks in quick staccato without further preamble, “our mission is simple. The recent attacks on the wardstones have compromised our defenses, and the enemy presses its advantage. We have received word of attacks on Fort Portolmaeus to the north, but the crusader leadership suspects that other parts of the line may have been breached as well. We will proceed to Fort Portolmaeus tomorrow morning on horseback to assess the damage, using the passphrase ‘That the Black Prince might be redeemed’ to permit us entry. On the way there, we will scout for enemy movements and other signs of demon activity. Once we have completed our assessment, we are to return to Nerosyan and you will be relieved of your obligations to the Crown. Do you have any questions?”

A burly orc, sitting delicately as if afraid of breaking the Venture-Captain's chair, nods as Jorsal speaks and turns his head to watch the approach of the knight. His right cheek bears a scar in the shape of a sword, its blade pointing downward.

His bushy black brows narrow momentarily as Sir Ilivan speaks, but he shakes his head silently in answer to the knight's question.

"Well met Sir Ilivan. Verily, a patrol does not sound like much glory but if we must, I would be honored to take part. I have no questions." When he is not sitting, Titus is a stunningly handsome man who is too handsome to be just human stands alongside the other pathfinders, or rather over most of them as he is over 6 feet tall. His armor is exotic and well polished. He keeps his long flowing locks well brushed and split-end free.

A young female paladin enters the hall, nodding to those already there.

Still working on my profile and completing the build of a new computer so things are a bit scattered right now.

A gruff and oddly dressed dwarf wielding a very large Nodachi now stands beside you...
Stealth: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

The cloak barely conceals an ornately armored stocky, furry yet androgynous frame. The armor is of curious design, obviously custom and indicates that it's creator was surely insane.

"I'm Susan."

The young paladin turns and bows deeply to the dwarf. "Well met Susan, I am Seelah, paladin of Iomedae. May the light of the goddess shine upon you."

Turning back to the crusader, she says, "Sir Ilivan, I do not have any questions, we'll do our duty. You can count on me and my blade."

”Excellent”, Ilivan. ”Pathfinders that can take orders.”

”We’ll be starting along the River Road, a normally well-used thoroughfare that follows the eastern bank of the West Sellen River. From there, we’ll travel inland for a few miles past Bedis.”

”We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Diplo: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (20) - 3 = 17

"I can work with a smuggler even if retired."

Diplo: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

"You have risen through the ranks and that is admirable. I am ready for whatever comes."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (11) + 13 = 24

"I am sure you had your reasons for striking a superior, but one should respect lawful authority, unless it is also evil."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

"I am prepared," replies the orc in a low voice.

Iliven nods to each member of the party.

"I do come from humble roots and I try not to forget that. The elven people are ancient and wise but they don't know everything. Sometimes they need a reminder - even if its an officer that needs reminding", he explains with a bit of a smirk. "Well let's be going. We have a long road ahead of us.

Update to come.

Mrachni raises one bushy black eyebrow slightly, but doesn't speak. Careful, young one. Arrogance has ended in trouble for many.

The party makes for the edge of town where mounts are provided – slower but sturdy steeds well chosen for a long patrol in dangerous territory. After making sure the rest of the group is secure in their saddles, he climbs atop his own horse, a magnificent destrier. ”This is Hannah. She and I have been through more scraps than I care to remember”, he says with an appreciative pat on the horse’s neck.

The first couple hours of the patrol are uneventful until Sir Ilivan turns off of the River Road onto a small, overgrown path that cuts through drooping evergreens.

”Beldis is up ahead. It was abandoned roughly forty years ago but we still use it as a rest stop for outbound patrols. The orchards still bear fruit that the horses will love. Cultists have been found on the grounds before so be on guard and have weapons at the ready.”

Ilivan leads the party as quietly as he can up a nearby hill dotted with gnarled apple trees. Just before reaching the top of the hill, he motions for everyone to stop. He dismounts and gestures for the party to do the same. On foot, he crouches and inches toward the crest of the hill where the entirety of Beldis can be seen. Built on the banks of the West Sellen River, its decaying structures are visibly melting back into the landscape. Between the hill and the village proper lie flooded fields sectioned off by raised, earthen walkways that converge on a larger, dry area.

A group of six Mendevian men are assembled on an open larger, dry patch in the middle of the fields. Two lie on the ground in obvious pain, while the rest stand in a circle, holding threshes, spades, pitchforks, and other farming implements. A small heap of bodies—dead by all appearances—lies near them.

”Cultists no doubt”, Ilivan says in disgust. ”We should go and leave them to torturing their own.”

Seelah clears her throat. She squints to see that far.

Perception, even though I know I can't make the DC: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

"I do not believe that to be the case. They seem to be farmers. Verily, we should at least see the truth of the matter. Even if they are cultists, we should bring them to justice." Titus will go confront the group. "Hail there! What is the matter here? Have these men done something foul?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Mrachni nods. "Justice must be done. And if they are cultists, are they not a threat which is our... duty here?" he asks, his bass voice rumbling softly through the group.

When the other Pathfinder approaches, the orc follows, hand resting lightly on his sword-hilt; not threateningly, simply as a precaution.

Mrachni, roll me a diplomacy check as well please.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

”Damned fools”, Iliven mutters as his orders are ignored.

As the party bears down on them, the filthy villagers spin to face them. Five of them turn their farming implements on the Pathfinders. ”Kill them!” one of them shouts. The two on the ground moan in pain but remain motionless.

Seelah: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (15) + 0 = 15
Mrachni: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (12) + 0 = 12
Susan: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Titus: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Bad Guys: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (19) + 0 = 19

Three of the ‘farmers’ glower at Titus and Seelah with cold dead eyes. They’re quickly overcome with a sensation of weakness. Seeing the aasimar and paladin falter makes them cackle in glee.

Titus is -2 to attacks and AC. Seelah is -2 to attacks.

Two of the farmers raise their farm implements and charge!

Charge vs Titus: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 + 2 = 23
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Charge vs Seelah: 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 + 2 = 5
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

The party is up. Map will be up in a couple hours.

Seelah stands her ground and says, "So I guess talking is out of the question."

Without the map, I am going to call them Farmer A and Farmer B. Whichever is in front of Seelah is A.

Seelah draws her longsword and drops to the ground.

She swings her longsword at the farmer to her front.

Attack: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 13 - 2 = 30
Damage, if hits: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Confirming: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 13 - 2 = 23
Damage, if hits: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

"Verily, we did try." Titus draws his blade and swings at the crazed farmer who attacked him and tries to not take his head off.

Nonlethal, Bloodrage: 1d20 + 15 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 15 - 4 = 19

1d10 + 8 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 8 + 6 = 24

Despite the crazed villagers’s lethal intent, the Pathfinders show mercy and bludgeon them into oblivion.

Mrachni and Susan are up.

Upon its turn,

The gruff demeanor disappearing, Susan smiles viciously and head's toward
Following Forthepie's suit: Farmer C, D and E the closest farmer. Susan screams a shrill high-pitch war cry and charges!
Nodachi Charge: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 11 + 2 = 15dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16

bad dice! bad!

Susan's swings a ferocious blow but the villager skillfully dodges.

Mrachni is up. Map's up too.

Mrachni steps forward a few paces, drawing his sword. The blade glimmers softly in the sun as its bearer thunders at the farmers, "CEASE THIS STRUGGLE!"

Moving to W19.

Intimidate to Demoralize F4: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32

Scurry horc is scurry.

Ya. Take dat, 'farmers'!

One of the farmers stares in momentary shock at the half-orc’s warning before a demonic hiss from his companion snaps him back to his senses.

Two of the farmers turn their glare on Susan while a third hacks at her with his scythe. All three cackle maniacally.

Susan is -2 to AC and Attacks until further notice.

Scythe: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (1, 2) + 6 = 9

The party is up.

Titus moves up and tries to knock out one of the farmers.

Nonlethal, Cursed: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17

1d10 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24

Oh we were doing non-lethal? hrm..silly me.

Seelah charges forward to the one in front of her. Let's assume Titus attacked F5 and Seelah will attack F4, because that's a better narrative.

Charge Attack: 1d20 + 13 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 13 + 2 - 2 = 32
Damage, if hits: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

confirming: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 13 - 2 = 24 Do I add my charge modifier too?
Damage, if hits: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

AC 23 for one round

well we only need one alive..right?

Feeling slightly demoralized Susan renews the attack on F3
1d20 + 11 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 11 - 2 = 11dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16

It's broken...two 2's consecutively? Laughable!

Titus lands a solid blow with the flat of his blade that would have knocked out the sturdiest of brawlers but this villager somehow recovers and gives the aasimar a fiendish grin.

Seelah's heedless charge connects as well, wounding her opponent badly but surprisingly little blood oozes from the wound...

Susan misses again, the villager parrying her attack with the butt of his scythe.

Slackni is up.

Err, so Seelah's out for blood while the rest are doing non-lethal?

Continuing forward, Mrachni raises his sword and moves to aid the dwarf, but he's unused to fighting in such close quarters with another, and his strike goes wide. Move to Y21.

Attack vs F3 (nonlethal): 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (1) + 8 - 4 = 5

Torn between the aasimar with holy weapons and bloodthirsty paladin, the ‘villagers’ split their offense. One glares at Seelah while the other two swipe with their scythes. All three continue to cackle.

Seelah, Titus, and Susan are all -2 to attacks and AC.

Scythe vs Titus: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 6 = 13

Scythe vs Seelah: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 6 = 12

The party is up.

The burly orc keeps swinging, his well-toned muscles working in unison as he steps to the side to avoid his previous error. Step to Z21.

Attack vs F3 (nonlethal): 1d20 + 8 - 4 ⇒ (16) + 8 - 4 = 20
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

Susan has no idea what nonleathal refers to.

Swinging the Nodachi wildly, not to mention a bit frustrated at her apparent incompetence...
1d20 + 11 - 2 ⇒ (6) + 11 - 2 = 15dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (8) + 14 = 22

Titus fights through the pain, his innate skills flaring to life.

Now with correct math: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

1d10 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 14 + (5) = 29

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

1d10 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 14 + (2) = 21

Seelah grimaces at the continued onslaught from these farmers. She sets herself up to follow through more on the backswing, trying to catch the farmer facing the dwarf.

Attack, Cleave, if hits: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 13 - 2 = 13

But the onslaught distracts her.

AC 21

2d6 + 3 ⇒ (2, 4) + 3 = 9

Susan and Seelah struggle to hit the surprisingly combat-capable villagers but Mrachni and Titus land several solid blows. One topples over but what hits the ground is a desiccated husk of dried out human flesh. A creature remains in its place composed of a standing nest of writhing worms.

The revealed demon releases a pulse of destructive energy while the two villagers continue their attacks.

Inflict vs Everyone (Will 16 for half): 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Seelah, Titus, and Susan are still all -2 to attacks and AC.

Scythe vs Titus: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (1, 2) + 6 = 9

Scythe vs Seelah: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 = 11

The party is up.

Will Save: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Feeling slightly less embarrassed, Susan renews her attack against the dreaded 'Neville Poppenbacher'!

F3: 1d20 + 11 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 11 - 2 = 24dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (6) + 14 = 20

Edit, apologies as it's been a bit since I've played this character. 2nd Favored Enemy = Evil Outsiders +2. Mr. DM Feral sir, please add +2 to hit and dmg, thank you.

Will: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

Seelah, seeing the demon, renews her attacks.

Attack: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 13 - 2 = 23
Damage, if hits: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Will: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

Titus will keep fighting despite the constant wounds.

lethal: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17

1d10 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 14 + (2) = 26
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

1d10 + 14 + 1d6 ⇒ (2) + 14 + (4) = 20

Will: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Mrachni continues to swing, stepping to the side again to pin the enemy between himself and the more diminutive Pathfinder.

Attack vs F3 (flanking): 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 8 + 2 = 12

Susan annihilates the worm-thing while Seelah and Titus lay into the surviving demon-infested villagers. Mrachni steps into the flank but still finds his attack deflected.

The villagers keep on cacklin’ and slashin’.

Scythe vs Titus: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 1) + 6 = 11

Scythe vs Seelah: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (3, 3) + 6 = 12

2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7

Some of the debuffs have lapsed since one of the vermleks is dead. Seelah and Titus are -2 to attacks. Titus and Susan are -2 to AC.

The party is up.

The orc steps up the line and tries a stab.

Attack (flank): 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 8 + 2 = 11
La dee da...