GM Budd the C.H.U.D.'s "The Price of Immortality" Trilogy

Game Master Budd the C.H.U.D.

The Price of Immortality Trilogy, part two - Masks of the Living God!

CURRENT MAP - On board the Black Mist

A group of young heroes set out upon what was meant to be a simple coming-of-age ritual, but found the Crypt of the Everflame overrun with undead horrors in the wake of a botched tomb robbery. Now, the cult of the Living God, Razmir, beckons in the distant city of Tamran, the origin of this great tragedy. The young Heroes of Kassen prepare now to head south, down the River Tourondel to the banks of eerie Lake Encarthan, where the next phase of their adventure awaits...


1 to 50 of 1,007 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | next > last >>

Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

4th of Neth, the year 4709 A.R.

The bells atop the Temple of Erastil toll their midday song, echoing throughout the quiet village of Kassen. As the peals begin to fade, the first of the townsfolk make their way into the square, dressed primarily in black, almost as if attending a funeral. Slowly, they fill the square, moving quietly across the cold, hard ground, eyes downcast and mournful. After a few moments, a murmur passes through the crowd as it slowly parts to let Mayor Jonark Uptal through.

The Mayor is a heavyset man, gray licking at the fringes of his well-groomed beard and long, blonde hair, held back as usual by a thin band of iron. A tarnished silver lantern, elaborately carved but worn by age and exposure to the elements, is gripped in one of his calloused hands. Behind him trails an old pony, dragging with it a wooden cart laden with various packs and supplies.

These are the beginnings of a ritual every citizen of Kassen has witnessed many times.

Once he reaches the center of the square, he stops, taking a moment to stroke the old pony's head before turning to address his people. "Once again," he calls out, "the winter winds blow through the Fangwood, marking the end of another harvest. There are wolves in the wood, howling at our walls, and serpents in the shadows, waiting to strike. Just as it was one hundred and seventy-four years ago, when Lord Ekat Kassen himself left these walls to protect us, so it is today." He pauses for emphasis, allowing another murmur to surge through the crowd.

"Where are the heroes?" Mayor Uptal asks, eyes combing through the assembled villagers, as if searching for worthy souls among them. "Where are the brave folk who will venture out to Kassen's tomb and retrieve the flame to keep this community safe for another winter?"

The assembly talks amongst itself with hushed excitement. Everyone knows that this is a year in which a small group of elected young people will undertake the task, rather than the usual group consisting of Mayor Uptal, a few of his friends, and community leaders. Few of them, however, are aware of who has been chosen. The Mayor has met with a number of people over the last several weeks, including the ranger Arnama Lastrid, Guard Captain Wisslo, the paladin Sir Dramott, even Goodwife Crowley. Speculation over the identities of those chosen for the Quest has been a hot topic in Kassen these last several days, especially amongst the gossiping regulars at the Seven Silvers.

Six young people are among those gathered at the square. Each of them understands that this, the end of Uptal's well-rehearsed speech, is their cue to come forth and announce their intention to take up the task.

Heroes of Kassen, please present yourselves. Feel free to add anything you think will enhance the experience, such as what your character has been up to in the days leading up to this moment,or how you were first approached by Mayor Uptal regarding the Quest. Have fun, everybody!


As Sariel put on his calf length scale armor, Proudsnout continued asking. ”Oink, oink, oink oink” So tell me again, why are we going to get fire when we have fire here in the forge Sariel sighed and tried to explain ”I know we have fire but it is a beloved coming-of-age tradition that reminds us of the sacrifice that Kassen himself made.” Proudsnout turns his head looking at Sariel ”Oink, oink, oink” Tradition, like going deeper into the forest during the winter to use the trees as cover from the snow. ”Well, sort of” Sariel buckles his belt and adjusts his weapons. Watching Sairel put on his gear, Proudsnout continues ”Oink Oink” I still think tusks are more effective Sariel just shakes his head, "Come on lets go, the people will be gathering at the square by now."

Arriving at the square, standing, spanglehelm in hand, near his aunt and uncle as they watch Mayor Jonark Uptal gives his speech. When he gives the invitation to come forth and announce their intention to take up the task, Sariel approaches the Mayor, Proudsnout at his heals, he turns to the throng of people. A voice from the back calls out ”Pig boy”.ignoring the cat call and the light laughter, he bows slightly, in deference to the Mayor: making eye contact with Sir Dramott, Father Rantal Prasst and his aunt and uncle. He then addresses the crowd. ”I am Sariel Patrick Cornelius nephew of Anelise and Renet and trained as blacksmith, mentored in spiritual matters by Father Prasst and trained in combat by Sir Dramott. It is my honor and privilege to represent Kassen in the lighting of the lantern from the everflame.” Proudsnout trots around and stands in between Sariels legs ”Oink” me too, still not sure why one flame is better than the other. The light laughter it causes seems out of place for the somber occasion.


HP 11 | AC 15/T 13/FF 12 | F+2/R+5/W+2 | CMB +2 | CMD 15/12ff | Init +3 | Perc +6

Jenna stood at the back of the crowd, watching as the mayor approaches with mounting apprehension. It had been only yesterday when the mayor had met her when she returned from a moderately successful hunt with Arnama, and had sat her down and told her to listen.
”Young lady.” he had said in his booming, jovial, voice ”I’ve got news for you. No! Don’t worry, nothing bad. No! Nothing bad at all. Well, first of all, I’m sure that you’ve heard that this year I,… We’ve decided that I’m not going to be going on this year’s Quest? Well, of course you have! Well I’ve been talking with Arnama here and she’s recommended that you be one of those who goes! Well, Isn’t that grand! Well, speak up girl! What d’you say?”

Jenna had just sat there, staring at the big man. ”Me?” she had said, her voice quavering as she glanced between him and Arnama ”But,… surely there’s someone else who’d be better?”

Here Arnama had interrupted her, as the mayor had sat back, his eyes widening in shock ”Jenna. Listen, I know you don’t like being the center of attention, but you’re a good hunter, in many ways the best I’ve trained. The mayor asked me to choose my most capable student, and so I have. Listen, there’s nothing to worry about, unless you’re foolish of course. I don’t know who else has been chosen, but I’m sure they’ll benefit from having you along. In many ways the most dangerous part of the quest is the journey and they’ll need someone along who knows the forest.”

And that had been that. The two of them would brook no argument, and so now she stood here, nervously waiting for the mayor to call her forward. When he spoke she waited a moment and then, her eyes resolutely cast towards the ground, she shuffled forward and mumbled in a voice too quiet for most in the crowd to hear ”I am Jenna Redthorne and, um, I will help bring back the Everflame.”

The words out of her mouth, she blushes red and rushes forward to take up her position with the others.


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

When she was asked into the Seven Silvers' small private dining room, Calia had been expecting a drink order or a request for a loaf of the Silvers' famous fruit-and-nut bread. Seeing the guard captain and the mayor in the room, she immediately straightened, trying to make it clear that she was on her best behavior. But then she noticed that full drinks were already on the table in front of each of the men, and a plate of fish and fried potatoes as well.

Calia, thank you for joining us. Please, have a seat. Mayor Uptal's face looked kind, but Captain Wissio's face could have turned an onlooker to stone. Calia sat in the offered chair and nodded at the Mayor, unable to take her eyes off Wissio's stern glare.

Mayor Uptal took a sip of his ale, then began to speak again. Calia, there's something we'd -

"We"? Wissio glowered. I'll have it noted I spoke differently.

- we'd like to ask you, the mayor finished as if the captain had not spoken. As you know, the harvest season is nearing its end, and this year the quest for the Everflame is to be undertaken by the best and brightest of the town's young people. And we'd like to offer you the opportunity to be a part of it.

M-me? The gnome's eyes widened even further in shock. B-but...I've barely been back in town a year, and there's so many with, ah, better histories than me. No one's going to -

Your reformation has not gone unnoticed, dear, Mayor Uptal cuts her off with a smile. Since your return, you have been nothing but kind, helpful - and quite entertaining, I might add. I've seen several of your performances here, and always left uplifted. You have quite a talent, child, and you've become quite well-regarded. I'm confident that you will be an excellent choice for the quest.

Captain Wissio snorts in derision. I remain unconvinced. I've seen your magic tricks - don't tell me those hands haven't been flashing into pockets as well. A few good deeds don't undo a lifetime of mischief and disruption - but the Council has spoken, and I will abide by their decision. Know this, though - I'll have my eyes on you through this. He stares daggers into the small gnome girl. Prove me wrong.

-----------

A leather backpack sits in Calia's room over the Seven Silvers' kitchen, its seams already straining against the load inside as Calia flits about the room in preparation. Oh, and this! she exclaims to herself, grabbing a tin coffee pot and a canvas sack filled with coffee beans from the low table.

She tries to stuff them into the already overfull main compartment, then with a huff pulls the bedroll from the main compartment, ties it awkwardly to the outside of the bag with some twine, and puts the coffee and coffee pot inside. Oh, and I can't forget this! A clay mug with riotously colored details joins the other supplies, wrapped lovingly in a corner of the bright yellow blanket.

Ok...that should be everything! Examining the studded leather armor and buckler sitting next to the overstuffed backpack, she wears a look of satisfaction. She flops heavily onto the bed, fidgeting with a sling fashioned from shiny black leather. Tomorrow's the day...

-----------

In the hush of the crowd following Sariel's announcement and Jenna's hushed reply, another small voice pipes up, sounding nervous. The privelege is mine as well. A tiny figure weaves through the crowd toward the steps, bright orange hair making her hard to miss. She closes the distance to the mayor with a hop and a skip, a cloak covered in myriad patches swishing around her as she takes her place next to Sariel, standing barely to his hip.

I am Calia Pevanazee, ward of Garrad and Doreen Benartha, gods rest their souls. I studied performance under Jocyn Elmaran, service under Trelvar Silvers - and chastisement under Gregor Wissio. She pauses with a small flourish, hoping to elicit a laugh from the crowd. I know my time in Kassen has had ups and downs, but it is my honor to represent us all in the quest for the Everflame.

Her large, expressive eyes scan the sea of faces looking back. I hope they share the sentiment...

-----------

Standing in the middle of the square, Calia adjusts the small rapier hanging at her waist and shuffles her feet shyly. So the pig farmer's here, and the hunter girl. They were good kids growing up; I liked them from the start. I had hoped they'd be some of the others chosen. She reaches over and gives the pig an affectionate pat on the head, then looks up at Sariel. Going to be an underwhelming quest with just the three of us, she quips with a smile at the two standing over her, attempting to bolster their confidence - and her own. Proudsnout snorts loudly, and she grins. Sorry, of course. The four of us. Looking out over the throng, she waits for the other questers to join them.


Retired to SUMITHA

As the orange haired female comes over and begins to pat him on the head Proudsnout moves forward so Sariel didn't get in the way of the extra attention. this one is nice, she smells better than the others, he looks up and tells Sariel "Oink, oink oink," I like this one, why can't all you people smell as good as she does? Shat is she saying?


Sariel nods first to Jenna, I have heard she is quite the archer, hope we don't have to find out. Then as Calia introduces herself I'm glad she has been able to, what was the word the father used, ah yes 'reform' herself smiling and nodding he answers "I suspect there may be others, though if they trust us to do the job we will not disappoint them. Watching Proudsnout enjoy the attention, he smiles, not wanting him to make a stir, Sariel shushes him. "Sssshhhh" shifting his spanglehelm and putting a finger to his lips.


Shaman 1; Init +7; HP 8/10; AC 14/11/13; Perc 6; F +1, R +1, W +5

Damien looked around nervously as he closed the door behind him. His parents had told him this was coming, but it was still strange to see the mayor sitting on his father's favorite chair. Even more so when the mayor was there to visit him.

"Take a seat, son."

Damien sat on the couch, looking across the coffee table at the leader of Kassen.

"Now, what you have to understand is that it's perfectly natural that as you grow older you'll go through certain... changes."

Damien felt his face flush as he processed what the mayor was saying. It was rude to interrupt, but he desperately wanted to head this conversation off.

"Sir, actually, my father already had this talk with me, so..."

The mayor looked at him in shock, before leaning back and letting loose a deep belly laugh.

"Gorum's balls, son, I don't care who you're rutting with," the mayor said, once he'd settled down, "I'm talking about all the magic."

Damien had been working on his spirit binding at his familiar's direction. He'd been doing his best to bring good fortune to the town. Calling up the spirits was simple enough, but getting them to do what he wanted was another story. It didn't help that Kolby's idea of instruction was to insult him every time he did something wrong. Of course, he thought he'd been practicing in secret.

"You know about that?"

"Everybody knows," the mayor said, before leaning forward to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look, your heart's in the right place. But frankly, everybody will be a little more comfortable if you get a handle on things somewhere outside of Kassen. Somewhere far outside of Kassen."

"Oh," Damien said, looking down. It looked like his practice time was going to be severely curtailed.

"Fortunately, the quest for the everflame is coming up," the mayor said, "I suggest you volunteer."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

Damien wanted to be a big time hero that everybody looked up to some day. On the other hand, he didn't like the idea of putting himself in danger. He didn't think it was a great idea to go on any crazy quests until he had a handle on his magical abilities.

"I strongly suggest you volunteer," the mayor repeated, his smile a little less friendly.

"I see," Damien said, suppressing a shudder. "All right, then."

The mayor soon made his goodbyes, and Damien was left to stare down at the coffee table. As he did, he felt a determination grow inside of him. So the mayor thought he was too much of a screwup to practice magic around the town. So he didn't really care if Damien got hurt on this quest. Well, so what? He knew he was destined for great things. Why not start that journey now?

ooOoo

"I'm coming too," Damien announced, the crowd parting before him as he made his way up to join the others.

"Damien Lambert," he said, eyeing all the skeptical faces in the crowd. "Remember the name."

"I'm sure they will... for one reason or another."

Damien suppressed a sigh with the ease of long practice, but he couldn't keep his eyes from flicking over to the rabbit riding on his shoulder. He wondered sometimes how he was going to win the respect of the town when he couldn't even earn the respect of his own familiar.


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

I hope it’s okay for me to make reference to a couple of you in this little vignette. If I overstep, please feel free to correct as needed! I’m so privileged to be part of this story!

I promise this will be the longest post I ever write...oh, who am I kidding. I can’t make that promise. but I’ll try!

Several days ago...

Artemis stands over the broken practice dummy, club gripped in both hands, sweat pouring down his face and upper body. His breath comes in rolling waves that threaten to topple him. So many....so many of them...I couldn’t save him... His vision blurs with swirls of green and brown and flowing blood. He hears Mikhael’s voice echo through the forest…

"Are ye thinkin' on them dog-humpin' gobbers? Huh?" Braggar Ironhame shouts as he stumps over to Artemis. "Ye thinkin' how ya cannae get enough o' their guts on yer mallet there?" He socks Artemis in the hip so hard that the towering youth does stumble. "Gimme that skull-cracker, ye great useless ape!"

Artemis blinks, the forest and Mikhael disappear into the dull roar of a bonfire deep in his core. The anger and frustration poured back into the fire to keep the heat going. Looking around he remembers his surroundings, the yard outside Braggar Ironhame’s smithy. He hands over the great club, still shaking as his fury recedes.

Ironhame inspects the weapon, checking the iron bands and the wood underneath. He nods and spits to the side. "Ye lucky bastard. If ah'd seen a dent in mah iron, I'd had ta plant this skull-cracker right up yer arse!" He spares a wary, dwarfish eye for Artemis. "Mebbe ye need a swing to the b+~&!*~s, eh? Put those bloody raisins ta use, huh?" He grips the club in both hands, though taller than him, the dwarf looks like he could use it to good effect.

"No thanks, Master Ironhame." Artemis responds and leans down to pick up the practice dummy. "Father expects me soon." His lungs still burn with exertion, but he still manages a smile for Braggar.

The blacksmith wipes a hand across his nose and turns to rest the club against the fence. "Ya got Is-Slow n’ ‘is boys askin’ after ye. Seems those woodcutters ye gave a reamin' ta out at Crowley’s whined ta the Guard.”

”I know.” Artemis responds glumly. He frowns down at the shattered practice dummy as he attempts unsuccessfully to set it upright again. ”Sorry about the…”

”Put a sock in it, ye great lummox.”[b] Ironhame pushes the dummy over and spits a great wad of tobacco onto it. [b]”Yer Da can make me a better ‘un that’ll stand up to yer flailin’ about.” He rubs at his beard, the iron rings fixed to the braids rattling. ”Ye come a long way, laddie. Ye push yer arse farther than most.” He pauses and there is a glint of sympathy in the dwarf’s eyes that Artemis misses altogether because it’s so alien. ”Yer ready…”

The muttered words pique Artemis’ curiosity. ”Ready for what, Master Ironhame?”

The furrowed brow returns and the dwarf punches him hard in the hip once again. ”Ready fer mah boot straight up yer arse so far ye got shite comin’ outta yer gob!” He turns and stomps into the smithy, cursing in dwarfish. From inside, Artemis here’s him shout, ”Whaddya want?”

The big youth scratches at his chin and rubs at his bruised hip and begins gathering his club and other weapons. His prized possessions passed down from his grandfather, Alonso - the spear and shield of the Nirmathas infantry - are handled with care. The great club, a weapon that he and his father had made together while Master Ironhame had wrought the banded iron reinforcements, goes over his right shoulder.

”Artemis!!” Braggar roars from inside the smithy. ”Get yer hairy hump in here!!”

He picks up the pace, ducking his head below the door frame and blinking once and twice as darkness and forge smoke interrupt his vision. Once his eyes adjust he notices that his father and Captain Wisslo are also in the shop. Artemis feels a dark stone turn in his guts, guilt. He enters, still stooping somewhat since the smithy’s cross beams occasionally were lower than his nearly 7’ height. He places his weapons aside, careful with the spear and shield more so than the club, then stands before his father and the Captain.

”Father.” He inclines his head. Then does the same for the other man. ”Captain Wisslo.” He says nothing else. No excuses.

--------------------------------------

It’d been 4 days prior when the incident at Goodwife Crowley’s hut had taken place. It had been his mother’s regular visit to the Goodwife to read her fortune and trade secrets with regards to local herbs. For his part, Artemis would remain outside because he found the use of the cards a bit beyond him. He didn’t fear it like some in town, it was just something he didn’t understand but trusted because his mother trusted.

The younger Crowley, the Goodwife’s niece, Doreen, had been there too, but Artemis held his own council out of respect for her own introspections. He liked to talk, found it fun to listen to stories and to get to know people, but he rarely initiated conversations. Much like the wood he and his father carved. ”You listen to the lumber, Artie. It will tell you what it wants to be…” A favorite saying of his father, Portos that reminded the young boy it was always better to listen first than to be the one talking.

Time had passed in peaceful silence until whistling could be heard along the path leading to Crowley’s broken hut. Artemis had shielded his eyes from the noonday sun to see a quartet of Woodcutters. He knew them, Harlow, Cuss, Reggie and Obidah. They fancied themselves “the Roughnecks”, toughs, given an inflated sense of confidence because of their membership. Instinctively, Artemis moved to put himself between them and Doreen and the hut beyond where his mother resided.

Not long after, the fight had ensued. It had been the Roughneck’s desire, of that there had been no doubt. But they’d not anticipated the unrelenting fury Artemis had unleashed upon them. The big youth had taken some lumps for sure. But he’d given more than he got.

He didn’t remember much of the fight. But Doreen had mentioned he’d shouted at them to get away. And had made more than one reference to departed friend Mikhael.

--------------------------------------

Now, back in the smithy, Artemis awaited his punishment.

”I’ll get to it, boy,” Wisslo starts, thumbs hooked into the buckle of his weapon belt. ”I know you gave a wallop to the Woodcutter boys out at Crowley’s. They tried to raise a complaint, but seeing that it was four to one, I’ll write it up as a normal fight.” His eyes narrow and he jabs a finger towards Artemis. ”One that should never happen again.”

”Yes, sir.” Artemis says gravely.

”B*!@&$&s, ta that…” Master Ironhame snorts. He turns to the billows and gives them a pump or two.

Wisslo overlooks the interruption and continues. ”Despite that altercation, I know you’ve proven yourself in the community. Even going so far as to partake in the scouting parties led by the Aranama and her pupil. That is why I am here to announce your selection by the mayor and myself for the Quest of the Everflame…”

Artemis only hears the phrase once, then the remaining words are a blur of confusion and drifting echoes.

--------------------------------------

Today

”Go on, son.” Portos grips his son’s shoulder. ”You’ll do us proud.”

Artemis is looking at the ground, staring at the brass buckles of his grandfather’s field pack. There are patches and replacement straps and even additional pouches sewn onto it. Signs of a long campaign in the hands of his grandfather, the hands of his father and now his own. What sort of changes would mark him should he return from this quest? He nods to his father and his mother. ”I love you both.” he says with a smile. There is large part of him that is eager to be on the road, to take part in such a historic tradition. But he is young yet, and not been far from home in all his life. He takes a deep breath and scoops up his grandfather’s pack and shield, slinging both over his shoulder to line up with the greatclub across his back. He hefts his grandfather’s spear and steps forward.

With his height, he can see most of the faces in the crowd. Most have smiles for him, Mirabelle in particular bats her eyes in that way that stirs Artemis to blush. But he also sees the faces of Colbin Vetnar and a few other men arrayed about him. The Roughnecks are there too. Their faces screwed into vulturess veneers as they bid good riddance to the big Woodcarver’s son.

”I think it was their parents and Vetnar that might be part of it. Wanting to get rid of him…”

”You’ve raised a capable son, Portos. They are not the reason he goes on this journey.”

”I know, Emilia. He will do great things...I just wasn’t prepared for it to be so soon.”

They’d not known he’d overheard their conversation. But seeing the Woodcutters now makes him wonder.

”Mind yer giant feet, ya hairy arse!” Braggar Ironhame brings Artemis back to the present with a punch to the hip. ”Sod off already.” There is a flash of a respectful color to the dwarf’s withering glare.

He nods and continues forward to the gathering. Artemis strides towards them and greets each in turn, stooping low for Calia. Of all the group, the gnome’s presence seems the most interesting. But he knows she is clever, and one with some of the best jokes in all of Kassen.

He offers a smile to Jenna along with a nod of respect. On one occasion, it had been her arrow that had prevented him from being surprised by a rabid badger during one of the scouting trips he’d joined.

”Sariel,” Artemis smiles in greeting, offering a hand. He deftly reaches into a pouch at his side and retrieves some wild berries he’d cleaned off earlier in the morning. These he offers to Sariel’s companion. ”Proudsnout,” he greets warmly.

”Hullo, Damien, good to see you.” He says with a smile and nod.

To the crowd, he takes in a breath, feeling the excitement of what’s to come. ” I am Arte…”

”Artemis Lihanuga!” Someone shouts from the midst of the crowd. Eyes turn to the sound of the voice as Ubylyn Fincher steps forward with his wife Lydia at his side. Artemis feels his stomach lurch, cold sweat already beading at the nape of his neck.

Among the crowd whispers pass to and fro, the prime among them identifying Ubylyn Fincher as the father of the late Mikhael Fincher. He is a thin man of short stature, one more for books and accounting as he gave aid to the local inn and shop keepers and even the Woodcutters on occasion. Since his son’s death 3 years prior, he’d diminished in complexion and presence, only leaving his small home long enough to deliver the books to his respective clients, gather sundries and to return.

Ubylyn approaches Artemis, right hand closed in tight fist, face impassive. His wife’s face is softer, a hint of worry on their edges. Once both reach Artemis, they gaze upwards to the boy and Ubylyn forces his right hand forward to put an object into Artemis’ palm. ”I never said anything to you.” His voice is quiet but fervent. ”But I meant to. All these years I meant to. I know you stayed with our Mikhael. Even after he’d…” He purses his lips, tears in his eyes, then continues. ”...even after he’d been killed. I want to say to you, Artemis, it wasn’t your fault. None of it. I wanted to give this to you,” He looks down at their grasped palms and bids Artemis look.

It is a finely carved icon of Erastil’s bow. Artemis recognizes it immediately as the one Mikhael had worn about his neck. The big youth looks back to Ubylyn, tears now welling in his eyes.

”Good luck…” Mikhael’s father says. ”Bring back the flame.”

Lydia’s hand closes over theirs and she looks up at Artemis. ”Bring back your peace.”

Tears are running freely down Artemis’ face. He leans down, engulfing both of Mikhael’s parents in his arms. After a brief time, they depart and head back into the crowd. Several families step forward - Artemis’ parents included - to embrace them.

Artemis ties Mikhael’s icon around his neck and lets it drape against the chest plate of his studded leather armor. He smiles broadly and summons up a steady voice to say, ”I am Artemis Lihanuga, son of Portos and Emilia, grandson of Alonzo and Aurelia. I am honored to be part of this quest!”


Sariel nods as he sees Artemis approaching the front Artemis is a good choice, he may lack a little in the self control area but he will be good in a brawl, hope we can avoid that. Of course Jenna is awesome with that bow too. I don't know anything about magic, but I know Calia and Damien do, I wonder how we gets the rabbit to sit on his shoulder like that. Is any one else going to be joining us, fours was a good number, five is better. Wonder if there is anyone else. Sariel looks out into the crowd. trying to see if anyone else is headed their way.


Female Human Witch 1 | Init +2 | HP 10 | AC 12 | CMD 11 | Fort +0 | Ref +2 | Will +5 | Perception +2 | 1st Lvl Spells: 4/day

Old hands, like winter branches rapping at dirty cottage windows,
Lay out the cards. One by one.
Tales told. Truths revealed.
The time of Harrowing has come.

YESTERDAY

Doreen watched as her great aunt lay out the cards. The old cards whispered from their resting place on the ancient, wooden tabletop.

The Uprising
The Avalanche
The Sickness
The Snakebite
The Mute Hag
The Marriage

Old Goodwife Crowley looked up at her niece, eyes gummy with age but sharper than ever.

"You understand?"

Doreen touched each card, one by one, fingertips caressing them the way some men touch their wives and others their gold.

"I understand."

---------------

TODAY

Doreen stood at the back of the crowd, watching as the mayor danced and the town danced and the puppets danced forward to claim their spot in the ritual.

Redheads and gnomes. Loggers and spirit talkers. Pigs and rabbits.

Puppets. Every single one of them.

She was not immune to the strings of fate any more than they were.

It was time for Doreen Crowley to dance.

The crowd parted as Doreen stepped forward. With her hood up, only her pale nose and her black painted mouth could be seen. She smiled grimly as the villagers recoiled, afraid of being touched by the witch. Somewhere, feeling emboldened by the throng of people between him and Doreen, a Woodcutter mooed out the word.

SppppoOOOOOOOOooookky!

Others joined him before they were silenced by the elders. Doreen ignored them. Most of the Woodcutter boys would be dead before they reproduced. Though only one by a venereal disease.

They were puppets, too.

Doreen steps up to join the others. She does not announce her name. She does not speak of honor or duty. She simply waits, as silent as the corpses some accuse her of lying with.


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

Artemis' grip on the spear tightens as Doreen joins the group. Not for her presence but for the crowd. How they turned so quickly. His instinct is to take a step closer to her and be ready to place himself between her and those throwing ridicule. His teeth grind and the forge fires in his core begin to rise. The Roughnecks are there, of course. Artemis imagines another beating is in order but the elders step in to shush the crowd.

Imstead of losing his calm, he takes a deep breath and then stoops to the side to whisper to Doreen. "I for one am glad you're here, Doreen. I don't understand what it is you do, but if my mother likes you and the Goodwife, that's enough for me." He nods once as punctuation to the pronouncement and stands straight again.

Aside from the rage thing, and the passing melancholy over the loss of his friend, Artie is a genuinely friendly guy with a protective nature. Plus he's not all together smart...


Ahhh, and then there were six, interesting number, wonder if the counsel will leave it there or if they will give us a lucky seven' Guess we'll know if the Mayor starts to speak. Would be funny if he doesn't say anything and just lets the crowd peter away, wouldn't be very responsible though. People need tradition, they need ceremony they need closure, they need reminded; I realize Proudsnout doesn't understand but he is just a pig. There is some things he understands better than people, he likes Goodwife Crowley, and I am glad Doreen is with us, her use of magic is not all that different than Calia's or Damien's. I still wonder how he gets that rabbit to sit there, I wonder if he drugs it. It's nice that Artimes stepped up beside Doreen and is showing her support. So now we see if anyone else comes or if the Mayor finishes the ceremony.

Sariel smiles as Artemis steps forward to support the latest member, he then looks from the mayor to the crowd to see if there are any other 'brave volunteers'.


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

As Doreen approaches the center of the crowd, Calia's eyes widen, and her nervous fidgeting increases. As the younger ones of the crowd begin their chant, her discomfort grows to a barely-concealed squirm.

Not because she thought ill of the Goodwife's grand-niece, but because she knew the cruel nickname and rumors was at least in part her fault.

Doreen had been the target of more than a handful of Calia's cruel jokes and taunts upon her arrival from Magnimar. But to be fair, the jokes came easily... The thought crosses her mind for only a moment, replaced with a harsh regret. She's not the only one, either. I've hurt so many people here...

----------

As Doreen makes her final steps and approaches the others, Calia tries to flash her a wide grin, as she had each of the others upon their approach.

Damien she knew to be headstrong, somewhat arrogant, but highly skilled - a boy after my own heart, she quipped to herself with an internalized smirk. She loved to coo at the rabbit that always followed him as well - she shared the common gnomish fondness for animals, and Kolby, as well as Proudsnout, seemed to carry a wisdom and intellect beyond their appearances. Calia couldn't wait to find out more.

Artemis was well known for his kindness - and his fierceness when his anger was roused, especially after the tragedy he had suffered several years before. As Doreen takes her place among the others, she sees him take a step to protect her, and the pangs of regret only begin to stab harder. He's so much better than I'll ever be.

----------

Calia turns to re-examine all the proud figures standing over her. It's strange...still half a child myself, and yet I watched their parents court, saw these ones being christened. I was an apprentice when they were in swaddling clothes, and yet we come of age together. Such a strange thing...

She forces a smile through the rising regret and melancholy and speaks out to the ones beside her. Don't see anyone else stirring - the others must've given up, seeing us. They know with the six of us together, there'd be nothing left for them. Grinning at each of her companions in turn, her gaze lingers on Doreen the longest, as if she wants to make sure the strange girl feels included in her compliment as well. Her gaze then joins theirs as they scan the crowd, beginning to fidget with nervousness again.


HP 11 | AC 15/T 13/FF 12 | F+2/R+5/W+2 | CMB +2 | CMD 15/12ff | Init +3 | Perc +6

As the others step forward one-by-one, Jenna glances up at each in turn. Seeing Calia approach she gives a nervous grin Well she's much better since she got back! She'll be fun to have along, and she's travelled before so she won't complain too much about being uncomfortable.

When Damien steps forward she inwardly groans, looking away from the boy, her face flushing red. Oh no! Why him? I mean he hasn't done it for a while, but gods, he used to be so mean! And what's with that rabbit anyway? Her thoughts are interrupted as Artemis approaches and she smiles back at him. Well at least with him here Damien won't get took nasty!

Finally Doreen moves through the crowd towards them and Jenna represses a somewhat nervous gulp. She knows the girl a little, having been asked by the Goodwife to gather herbs on her hunts on more than one occasion, but she can't help feeling a certain,... dread as the other girl approaches. Well we're certainly a strange bunch. What is Uptal thinking? Why would he choose us?


Female Human Witch 1 | Init +2 | HP 10 | AC 12 | CMD 11 | Fort +0 | Ref +2 | Will +5 | Perception +2 | 1st Lvl Spells: 4/day

The bulky one, dumb but true.
The redhead, with quiet eyes.
The shaman, spirits yet unheard.
The warrior with hidden depths.
And the gnome. Pretending for redemption.

Doreen stares at Artemis a good, long while after he steps close to her and speaks. She considers him the way some might ponder a beetle that has crawled into the kitchen. Squash it? Or herd it back outside.

"Someday, someone is going to ride you until you break in twain. Your heart will bleed all over the forest floor."

Doreen draws her hood back up, hiding her face in the shadows.


she has the gift of sight, I hope she has the wisdom to go with it Sariel walks to Doreen's other side, he reaches up to touch her shoulder, then not wanting to cause her discomfort he lowers his hand and speaks softly keeping his face turned so no one but her hears his words. Be careful gifted one, we do not desire any self fulfilling prophesies. Sometimes those with vision are given information so they can pray for the peace of whom it concerns. Instead of sharing knowledge that has the opposite affect. Let us pray that when his heart is broken those friends who remain will be there to pick him up."

As Sariel speaks softly Proudsnout looks up and nudging Sariels leg with his rump he begins to root in the dirt and grunt. "Oink, oink, oink, oink" Is she the first? Are you going to start your harem? Do you have to fight one of these two or both of them to prove your worth? I would help but that would be unfair and you would loose her respect. Seeing that Proudsnout had drawn undo attention to them, he casually nudges Proudsnout with his boot and stepping away from Doreen he picks up Proudsnout and setting him back away a little he says "Ssshhhhh, little guy, not now." Turning back to the crowd and looking at the major hoping someone would do something to draw the attention away from his vocal pet pig.


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

Artemis blinks once at Doreen's words. He knows she can be this way, has gift of sight. Though he doesn't understand it nor sees beyomd her literal meaning, he takes a deep breath and responds solemnly, "If it means others are safe, so be it."


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

Finally! All right, catch-up time.

Mayor Uptal greets each of those who have stepped forward with a stern nod of respect, only a hint of a smile visible beneath his beard. When Doreen appears, and one of the townsfolk shouts out so rudely, his expression grow grim- and from the look in his eye, someone will be getting a stern talking-to once all this pomp and circumstance is done with.

Quietly, he steps forward to each of the young heroes, shaking their hands in turn and offering each of them a few quick words.

To Sariel, he says, "You bring honor to your parents' memory with this, young man. That armor looks good on you. May it serve you well." He offers Proudsnout only a quick glance of acknowledgement before moving on.

Next, he turns to Jenna. "Arnama assures me that your arrows fly straight and true. I understand you know traps. Keep your eyes open, eh?"

Uptal towers over Calia, unique among the party in that she can likely remember the Mayor as the fit young warrior he was in his prime. Realizing this, he smirks. "Calia. I know you feel you have a lot to prove. Do not let those impulses of yours carry you off-track... but remember, those same impulses might save your life. Try to use your best judgment."

Damien is next, and Uptal sighs lightly before smiling and setting a hand on the young man's unoccupied shoulder. "Make the most of this opportunity to test your abilities. Please, be responsible- and make sure your comrades are out of the way before you let loose, won't you?"

Artemis is a full head taller than the Mayor, but somehow it does not seem as if Uptal is looking up at him. "You have a kind heart, boy. Your natural inclination is to protect those around you; you're a man after Ekat Kassen's own heart. I can't imagine anyone better suited to this quest."

And finally, he moves before the mysterious Doreen Crowley. In a quiet voice, he says, "Thank you for coming, Doreen. I'm sure the Goodwife did not give you much of a choice... but who are we to argue with the cards? You have an opportunity here- to make friends. To learn to trust. Promise me you'll keep an open mind."

With these words spoken, he moves to the old pony and its drawn cart. He and a few assistants quickly unload the cart's contents, which are presented to each of the party members. Uptal himself carries one large pack, but the assistants also present a number of items to each member of the party to put into their packs. Each member of the party is given five days worth of rations, a small tent, a heavy winter blanket, and a full waterskin. Each of the packs also contains a torn slip of paper- perhaps part of a map?

Uptal holds up the other pack as the party finishes stuffing their new gifts into their own bags. "These are to be shared amongst you all. I will leave them to you." This pack contains 50 feet of hempen rope, a box of tinder with three tindertwigs, three torches, a grappling hook, and two bottles: one labeled healing, another a fine local brandy.

But there is still more to give. Uptal picks up the old silver lantern and holds it before the party. "This lantern belonged once to Ekat Kassen. It will bear the warmth of the Everflame back to us. Who will carry the lantern?" He looks amongst the group expectantly.

No matter who steps forth to take the old lantern, Mayor Uptal soon steps back and turns to address the crowd once more. "People of Kassen! I present to you the six brave souls that will follow in our brave founder's footsteps to retrieve the Everflame! Some of them..." He pauses and casts his eyes grimly over the crowd. "...may not return. But this I say to you- their sacrifice will not be forgotten!" With a dramatic flair, he thrusts out one hand and points to the south. "Go, now, brave young heroes- and do not return until the eternal fire is yours!"

There is a distant sound of wood creaking as the heavy wooden gates of Kassen's southern border begin to lurch open. The crowd parts again, many people cheering or clapping, others shouting out wishes of good fortune or advice. Still others, attempting to stay true to the solemn spirit of the ceremony, merely wave farewell to the party as they heft their now-heavy packs onto their shoulders.

With a sigh, Mayor Uptal scratches his beard. His spiel finished, he offers to you all in his normal tone of voice: "I am so proud of you all. Be careful out there. Trust in one another. Watch one another's backs. And don't forget to have fun, will you? You'll all remember these next few days for the rest of your lives."

And with that, the southern gate beckons to you all. Beyond it lies the Fangwood, and further still, Kassen's tomb- the Crypt of the Everflame.

Everyone ready to depart? Is there anything any of you wish to say or do before you leave the town, or anyone you hope to see in the crowd? Otherwise, it's time to hit the road!


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

Thank you, sir, Calia manages to squeak out. She accepts the mayor's gifts given her, though finding room in her already stuffed pack becomes increasingly more unlikely with everything added to it, and she ends up with little room to carry any of the communal supplies.

Finally, she manages to find a place for everything. She shoulders the heavy rucksack, staggering slightly under the weight, and smiles at the others, ready to depart for the Crypt.

I've updated my supplies, and I should be ready to go. Already into heavy load - I don't think adding more's gonna be a good idea, and I somehow think there are better candidates for pack mule than the gnome bard. :)


Shaman 1; Init +7; HP 8/10; AC 14/11/13; Perc 6; F +1, R +1, W +5

Weapon, armor, and animal purchases retconned into my profile.

Damien takes a look at the gnome struggling under a pack that looks bigger than she is and shakes his head.

"Let's save some of that for an actual pack mule. I already paid my folks, we can swing by the farm and pick Gus up on our way out of town."


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

That...sounds like a much better idea. Calia grins sheepishly at Damien, still struggling under the weight of her pack. It's just...I'm used to being with a caravan when I travel, having a whole line of carts I can throw my things onto. Easier to pack everything but the kitchen washtub when you aren't the one that has to carry it, huh?


Sariel has 67 lbs. to give and stay at medium load

Sariel reaches out and shakes the mayors hand, listening intently to his words, he softly responds "The honor is Erastils, I strive to serve him. He listens carefully as the Mayor speaks to the other questers wanting to learn all he can about them. I've known all of these people my whole like, some better than others, but I have no idea how we will respond to each other as a group or when 'trouble' starts.

As the Mayor presents the items Sariel accepts the pack with the extra items in it and quickly loads the few items he brought along in it, as well as the items that were in the cart. As the mayor presents the old silver lantern I would love to carry the lantern, the symbol of hope for out community, starting to step forward he stops, realizing his own thoughts. Wow, how arrogant am I, to serve the questers best I will need my hands free for shield and weapon, someone else must take the lantern and carry the everflame. Sariel stops moving and looks to the questers, and whispers "If we meet trouble I will need my hands free for sword and shield, could someone with one hand free carry the lantern, please?

As the Mayor finishes his spiel and gives his last instructions, Sariel nods his head in silent aggrement. Yes, we must be a team, I trust Erastil that all will go well and we will return some how better, more suited, to serve our friends and family's. Sariel waits for someone else to lead the way out and nods his head at Damien's recommended idea to get his mule. We all bring different gifts, it is right that Damien use his wealth to serve the cause.

As they begin to leave Proudsnout trots out in front of Sariel, knowing he will follow the group. Proudsnout drops down sitting for a moment scratching his ear and saying "Oink, oink, oink" I still don't understand. If this is so important why don't we take the whole 'sounder'. That way if there is any loss of life it will most likely be to the old or sick. Sariel continues walking past Proudsnout shaking his head, looking down at the pig as he scratches his ear, nudging him with his foot he says "Come on Proudsnout, we were picked for this task so we will do it." Proudsnout head-butts Sariel's boot and trots along after him.


Female Human Witch 1 | Init +2 | HP 10 | AC 12 | CMD 11 | Fort +0 | Ref +2 | Will +5 | Perception +2 | 1st Lvl Spells: 4/day

Oh, look. The mayor's speaking.
Platitudes to ease his soul
While we march off to pain and death.
What an ass.

Doreen takes those things given to her and fills her pack with them. She frowns at how heavy it becomes. She makes no move to accept the additional items.

Sariel's advice earns him a glance.

"That wasn't prophecy. That was common sense."


Making eye contact with Doreen as she explains her comment, he raises one eyebrow, smiling and then beginning to laugh, "Ha ha ha, common sense! That is indeed rarer than prophecy some times, well done Doreen, well done! looking at the others, waiting for them to grab their gear. Sariel draws closer to Doreen That does not change my confidence in your gifts and if we are fortunate the voice of prophesy will continue to agree with common sense."


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

Gus! I approve of this name for the pack mule. Also: while I usually don't emphasize encumbrance or weight limits much in my games, I do agree that having a beast of burden around will be a good idea, especially during this part of the adventure. The town's got you guys loaded for bear with supplies.

Sariel takes the old lantern from Mayor Uptal. The Mayor nods in acknowledgement, pride in his eyes.

The ceremony concluded, the group moves toward the edge of town. A short side-trek to claim Damien's rented pack mule takes naught but a few minutes, and soon, the would-be heroes of Kassen are joined by the stubborn little beast. Gus plucks along at his own pace, unperturbed by any attempts by the party at getting him to move faster. It takes a little while to get him to the gates, but at least a great deal of the weight has been lifted from the party's shoulders.

Gus the pack mule has joined the party.

The mouth of the Fangwood yawns open before the group, strangely serene- almost welcoming. Just as so many others have done before, you step through the south gate and begin heading toward the distant Crypt. The journey is expected to take just short of two days; on foot, you should arrive around sundown on tomorrow night. Each of you has been given a piece of the map that shows the way, but figuring out how to get there should not be difficult, regardless. The southbound trail is overgrown and scarcely used outside of this local custom, but should prove a valuable guideline. There are a few locations of note between Kassen and the Crypt: the Broken Glade, the Gray Lake, and Serpent's Gorge- at the end of which lies the entrance to the tomb, nestled in the first steps of the Serpent Hills.

Anyone have anything else before you set out proper?


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

As the group walks down the road, Calia reaches over her head to pat Gus's shoulder. She enjoyed animals, though she knew she was definitely not the one to be guiding Gus. Between her lack of experience and the fact that she represented less of a hindrance than a pebble in the road if he did decide to make a run for it, she was happy to leave the handling for those better suited. Her brightly painted backpack now rides tied to Gus's pack saddle, and she shrugs her shoulders, glad to be rid of the weight.

A leather bandolier hangs around her chest, with several pockets closed by stiff flaps. A sling hangs tied to the bandolier, and the way one of the bottom pockets sags suggests it carries something heavy, perhaps bullets for the sling. She reaches into one of the higher pockets and pulls out the section of map the mayor had handed her, studying it for a moment, then carefully re-folding it. We want to keep all the sections of map together? she asks the group. I've got a pocket here I can close them into, so they'll stay safe. She punctuates her remark with the return of her section into said pocket.


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

Not sure if Sariel wanted to hold the lantern or not, considering he wanted his hands free. I'm kind of in the same boat as a spear and shield fighter. Let's see what we can do...

Sariel wrote:
"If we meet trouble I will need my hands free for sword and shield, could someone with one hand free carry the lantern, please?"

"Jenna, you are the fastest of us." He whispers between Sariel and Jenna. The big youth recalls seeing just how fast she could run when they'd come across a pair of wolves two months back. "You will have the best chance of returning with the Everflame, should we *ahem* should we get separated. Besides, if there is trouble, Sariel and I will be the ones out front." He flicks his shield, causing a clang from the steel that resonates. It's clear Artemis is unclear about the prospects such things arise in his mind, so he leaves the suggestion for the smarter members of the party to decide.

They depart the town square and head to Damien's homestead to gather up the mule, Gus. As they accumulate their gear, Artie decides he can do without his own length of rope and places it along with 4 out of the 5 torches he owns. For the rest of his gear, he holds onto it. I don't want to offend Damien, but I won't trust my grandfather's kit and weapons to the animal. Not when it could run off."

Artemis walks along with the group, purposefully keeping his stride shorter to accommodate Calia. The events of the send off are still a heavy echo in his mind. "...you're a man after Ekat Kassen's own heart. I can't imagine anyone better suited to this quest." He is still rolling the words over in his head, odd amazement and pride stirring within him when the gnome speaks about the map sections. A touch of red colors his cheeks as he realizes he was busy thinking of the Mayor's words and not paying attention to the trail. Not a league from home and he is proving useless.

He chuckles to himself and nods agreement with Calia. The big youth clears his throat and retrieves his slip of paper. "Perhaps we should compare our pieces. I don't know much about the magics that paper can hold..." He holds it out and beckons the others to do so too. "...but my grandfather told stories of faerie maps that could only be seen by moonlight. It makes me wonder if each piece is special for us."

He glances down at the paper and studies it, not so much to truly garner meaning from the small map but more to hide his shame at sounding like such a child when it comes to magic. Especially with Damien and Doreen among them.

If there's nothing special about the paper, Artie is good to go. I've finalized his gear list and sorted them by Backpack, Belt Pouch and On his Person. Who will handle the brandy and the healing potion?

Senor Chud would it be okay if Artie picked up a trio of javelins? I think it might be a good idea he has some ranged ability and the javelins keep with his spear and shield training.


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

I can throw the potion and brandy into my bandolier, if no one objects. I solemnly swear that the brandy might not be all gone by the time we get there. :P


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

Quickie response while I'm out picnicking (yes, seriously): Javelins are good to go.


HP 11 | AC 15/T 13/FF 12 | F+2/R+5/W+2 | CMB +2 | CMD 15/12ff | Init +3 | Perc +6

Sorry for the delay

Jenna takes the items that are offered to her, muttering a polite thank you to the Mayor before turning, with the others, towards the town gate. Spotting her young brothers and mother she gives a little wave and then hauls her pack onto her back, lifts her bow, and steps forward towards the forest her tenseness leaving her body as the trees close in around them. At Artemis' words she glances over. "M,.. me? I suppose I could carry it if I tied it to my pack, otherwise I won't be able to use my bow." she says reaching over and taking the lantern, stopping briefly to attach it to her pack. When Calia suggests that she keep the map fragments, Jenna hands them over with a shy smile.

When they collect the mule she speaks up. "A pack animal's a good idea, but we should keep essentials on us, just in case something happens to him. There are many hazards in the forest, wolves and worse."

What's the weather going to be like for the next 24 hours?
Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

Jenna, regarding the weather:
It looks as if there may be some light rain tonight. You're fairly certain that it will not be a bad storm, however.

There is nothing magical about the paper. It has been torn into six pieces- some larger than others, suggesting that the number of participants for this Quest for the Everflame was likely in flux until the last minute. This is what it looks like.

As the party moves through the gates, a voice calls out to them from behind.

Cygar Anravis stands just to the side of the gate, his back to the wall. Smoke billows up in a thin stream from his pipe as he regards the group coolly. Few of you have seen Cygar up close, but everyone knows who he is- or at least who the rumors paint him to be.

"Lihanuga," he says, his voice scratchy and gruff. He steps forward once he has the group's attention and reaches into his cloak. "Got somethin' for you. You should take it; might come in handy."

He tosses a small silver object with gold accents toward Artemis, who catches it. It looks a bit like a compass, with a small indentation inside.

He smirks, then takes a long draw on his pipe. "Long time ago, that belonged to Alonso Lihanuga. Seems right that it should stay in the family, doesn't it?" Without another word, he turns his back and walks back through the gate, his dark green cloak fluttering behind him.

And with that, you folks are officially on your way.

- - - -

The party begins their southward trek in earnest. Accompanied by Gus the pack mule, the party march at a steady pace. For a few of them, the first several miles outside of Kassen are not entirely unfamiliar territory; but for others, this is far outside the comfort zone. At least the air is cool, and the wind is soft. It is- at least at the moment- perfect traveling weather. The narrow trail winds through the raking claws of the trees, now bereft of their leaves.

Any small talk you folks are making in these initial hours of the journey?

After about two hours, as the party grows steadily more used to the constant sound of crunching underfoot, they find a fallen tree lying across their path. There is a curious smell hanging about.

Perception, DC 15:
It's pipe smoke. Not just any generic sort of pipe smoke, however; there's something unusual and familiar about this scent.

Just off the side of the path, the sound of rustling in the bushes can be heard.

Reactions?


HP 11 | AC 15/T 13/FF 12 | F+2/R+5/W+2 | CMB +2 | CMD 15/12ff | Init +3 | Perc +6

Once the mule is loaded and the party begin to move off, Jenna quickly takes up a position at the front of the party. She remains quiet as they walk unless addressed by someone else.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14 (+1 more if its a trap)

When she spots the tree ahead, Jenna narrows her eyes and stops, without turning away from it she speaks over her shoulder. "What do you think? Maybe a trap of some sort?" Without waiting for a response, she pulls an arrow from her quiver and nocks it.


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

I'll split up my post in case anyone wants to chat on the road prior to the downed tree...

Departure South

Artie stares in wonder at the compass in his hand. This belonged to my grandfather? By the time he looks up from the object Cygar is already beyond the gate and out of sight. Putting his gaze back on the compass he turns it over in his hands and notes the well-worn backing, running a thumb along an engraving. The words are unfamiliar to him, a language he'd never seen in any of his grandfather's old books.

"I Dewch Golau Byd, Rydym Casglu y Goleuni"

Translation:
"To Illumine the World, We Gather the Light."

Below the inscription he spies the crossed spears atop a carpenter's hammer; the symbol his grandfather placed over the Woodcarvers shop now run by Artie's father. The very same symbol engraved into the steel shield and the head of the spear he now carries.

On instinct, add the group behind walking south, he keeps pace with Calia and asks quietly, "Mistress Calia, have you ever seen such a thing on your travels? Such a compass, what does it mean?"

--------------

The Downed Tree (later)

Artemis raises his shield, steps instinctual carrying him nearer to Calia and Doreen. "What is it?" He whispers to Jenna as he focuses on the downed tree.

Lore (Kassen River Wilds): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Is it normal for trees in the area to fall in such a manner? Or is this something left behind by the Woodcutters?

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
The sound of rustling leaves to the side of the path draws his attention. He sniffs at the air as a familiar scent passes his nostrils, but he keeps his shield pointed in the direction of the noise. "Odd pipe smoke in the air..." He whispers to the others.

Danger so soon? He grits his teeth and brings his spear alongside the shield. It's no surprise he places himself between the sound and Calia and Doreen. A traveler? Brigands?

His mind races but his instincts take over. Artemis thumps his spear against the steel shield *ca-thang ca-thang* "Who goes there? Show yourself slowly and you will not be harmed."
Intimidate: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16


Earlier

The Mayor is a wise man, he selected us because of our different skills, trusting us to get along in spite of the differences. It's like the parable about the forest animals that worked together to put out the forest fire, how each of them brought different skills and helped stop the fire that would destroy their homes. Lets see there was the bear, the fox, the eagle, the chipmunk, the skunk, what was the last one, oh yeah how could I forget the boar. Huh, there were six in the story, wonder it that had anything to do with the mayors decision. Hearing Artemis speak up about the map Sariel approaches him.

Walking up to Artemis, slapping him on the back, holding his piece of paper up besides Artimis', piece of paper, smiling "That's a good idea Artemis. Your grandfather was a wise man, there is a story in the Holy Text 'Parables of Erastil' about a map that could be read like that, it lead to a doorway, I could read the parable later if the party would like." Handing Calia his part of the map.

Sariel smiles "That's a good idea Calia, I'm not the best a reading maps, let alone just a small part of one" after handing the map to Calia, he removes the pack the Mayor gave him and his own bag and places them both on the pack mule. I want to show Damien that I fully support his idea, anyway if the mule runs off I will have Proudsnout follow it until it stops. after placing his load on the mule Sariel shifts his shoulders around, adjusting his shield and weapons where they would be in easy reach, smiling he addresses Damien. "The Mule is a good idea, if you get tired of leading him I will take a turn, didn't I trim his feat for your just a month ago? What was his name again? Gus, right?"

on the road
perception: 1d20 ⇒ 18

Seeing the fallen tree lying across their path and noticing the curious smell hanging about. Is that what I think it is? stopping for a moment Sariel asks the team "Do any of you smell that? It's pipe smoke. Not just any generic sort of pipe smoke, however; there's something unusual and familiar about it, do any of you recognize it, it's right there on the tip of my brain but I can't place it."

Placing his hand on Artemis' back he says "Easy my friend, an attacker would not light his pipe while he waits to waylay us." Well at least a smart attacker would not...

Sairel calls out, "My friend is right you should show yourself, it would be unfortunate if danger befell someone by accident!

not sure which is appropriate, so I will roll both

diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
aid another, intimidate: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

Departure South

Knowledge (local) for symbol: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

GM:
I'm guessing an 8 Knowledge (local) isn't good enough to recognize a wayfinder, having had no specific experience with the Pathfinders? I'll forge ahead assuming it's not high enough.

Well, the symbol's your granddad's, right? I remember it from his shop. As for the...well, I guess it's a compass, right? Can't say I've seen anything just like it before. Must be quite a thing, though - your usual compass isn't quite so fancy. Is that what Cygar tossed at you? Did he know your grandfather?

The Downed Tree

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

As the group walks, Calia suddenly notices a faint scent on the breeze. As the others react, she nervously pulls the sling from her bandolier and readies a bullet in it. Besides, didn't your mother ever tell you it's not polite to try and scare people? she calls out after Sariel, attempting to sound brave.

Aid Another for +3, Intimidate: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6 Womp, womp, womp...

I just realized that I forgot to put a quick reference bar on Calia - I'll get it done later.


Female Human Witch 1 | Init +2 | HP 10 | AC 12 | CMD 11 | Fort +0 | Ref +2 | Will +5 | Perception +2 | 1st Lvl Spells: 4/day

Trudging along.
Our journey begun.
How long
Before one of us dies?

Doreen follows along behind the others. She has placed a few items on the mule - she's no fool. She won't burden herself down if there is no need. But she says nothing, instead allowing the others to chatter as need be.

When the others begin shouting out into the thickets, alternatively offering friendship or blustering threats, she stays silent and waits.

Not going to roll. I think y'all have this covered so far. Sorry for the delay.


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

Doreen, make sure you copy your crunch/fluff stuff into your profile page so I can access it easily. ;)

Calia:
Afraid not. You might detect that there's something vaguely familiar about this compass- perhaps you've seen one in your travels on a particularly interesting stranger- but you've no solid information with which to link this to the Pathfinders or identify exactly what its extra bells and whistles are.

A booming growl of a voice bellows forth from the wood:

"My mother? Nah, my mother never told me that. Y'know what she did tell me, though?"

A dark shape seems to materialize amidst the brush- hulking in form, as tall as Artemis and twice as wide. Two similar shapes begin stomping forth, one from the opposite side of the path, another from somewhere behind the party.

A tusked mouth splits open into a sick grin. "She told me that if you ever find a human, you make sure you peel 'em first before you eat 'em," the shape says, and the sound of a large, sharp metal object sliding free from its leather sheathe cuts the air.

"Couple juicy young'uns here," says the one that has appeared behind. "An' we ain't ate much since Belkzen, have we, boys?"

"Starvin', that's what we are," the third says.

Orcs. Three of them. And they have you all surrounded.

Only one thing that can mean... Roll Initiative!

- - - -

A quick aside as to how combat will work in this campaign: In my Feast of Ravenmoor game, I used the "Averaged Initiative" method, in which I rolled initiative for all the player characters, all the enemies, and average both sides- then determined which side went first based on those averages, allowing the actions to come in the order they were posted in. I'm going to try a different method here- Block Initiative, which is similar, but a little closer to normal Pathfinder-style initiative. In this method, combat order will be broken up into three blocks: PCs who come before the enemies, Enemies, and PCs who come after the enemies. There may be more blocks in combats that involve multiple enemy types, of course. Let's see how this shakes out:

Initiative Rolls:
Artemis: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Calia: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Damien: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Doreen: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Jenna: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Sariel: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Orcs: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (18) + 0 = 18

Looks like we have:
1. Artemis and Jenna
2. Orcs
3. Calia, Damien, Doreen, and Sariel
Familiars, animal companions, summoned monsters, etc. act on their masters' turns.

- - - -

The orcs are clad in studded leather armor and each carry greataxes and a variety of javelins and throwing axes. Time to show your stuff, heroes of Kassen! Don't die!

Another note: I do not have a battle map for this encounter, so we're in "theater of the mind" mode. Some small encounters like this one may not have maps, so I will be happy to answer any questions you may have regarding positioning. In this case, if you guys were in the center of a clock, you have the fallen tree directly below you (6 o'clock), one Orc to the west (9 o'clock), one above in the direction you came from (12 o'clock), and one to the east (3 o'clock). Each of them is thirty feet away, and the ones to the east and west are standing behind one square's worth of difficult terrain (bushes). Artemis and Jenna are up, but feel free to ask any questions in the meantime.


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

I've used the block initative method in other games before and it's pretty nice - the best way to reward people for good rolls and for investing in initiative, while meaning you don't have to hold up play an entire day waiting for a single post.


HP 11 | AC 15/T 13/FF 12 | F+2/R+5/W+2 | CMB +2 | CMD 15/12ff | Init +3 | Perc +6

I've also found that the block initiative works as the best time-efficient but fair method.

Narrowing her eyes Jenna lifts her bow and sends an arrow towards the orc closest to her (Lets say the one at 3-O'clock). Although the wicked shaft flies towards the creature, it catches only the edge of its armour and flies off into the bushes without harming it. "Damn it!" Jenna yells. "Guard the mule. Its got all your food!"

1d20 + 1 + 3 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 1 + 3 + 1 + 2 = 11 (1d20 + BAB + Dex + P.B. Shot + Favoured enemy)


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

¤

¤

¤

Artemis feeds the forge fires in his core, the billows pumping, the clank of the chains as the vents exchange ash for air.

The inferno runs wild.

"This filth is mine!" He charges forward at the on in front of him, a roar proof from his chest as he brings his spear forward.

Actions List

  • Rage | +2 Att/Dam, -2 AC, +2 hp
  • Charge Attack | +2 Att, -2 AC
  • Power Attack -1 Att/ +2 Dam
  • Current AC 12 | Current HP 13 (15)
  • Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
  • Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

All those maths and I think I just missed...


'block init' and 'theatre of the mind' work for me, might not have hurt in the future to have a marching order, I assume Sariel is near the front of the group

Only mildly surprised that Orcs would venture this far from Belkzen Hold, Good, Artemis will deal with the one in the rear. Jenna has got the attention of the one to the east. Can't see either of these very well, hopefully they will move out of there positions. It will be difficult to charge into the woods. looking down at Proudsnout the tells the hog Proudsnout if this mule runs keep an eye on it, when It stops come back and get me. Proudsnout looks from the orc threat nearest him back to Sariel. "Oink, oink" fine, I will watch the unnatural beast. But I would rather fight the stinky fellows who are attacking us.


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield

Behind the GM Screen...:
Jenna Will Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Artemis Will Save: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 = 8

Orc #1, throwing axe vs. Jenna: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
damage if successful: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Orc #3, Charge + greataxe vs. Artemis: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 5 + 2 = 20
damage, if successful: 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Jenna:
Something seems a little... off about the way your arrow plinks off the Orc's leather-clad body. You've never seen an arrow interact with leather armor in that way; this acted as if it had struck full plate. In all honesty, it looks... sort of fake.

- - - -

Round One - Enemy Phase

The three Orcs snarl angrily as they begin to move in for the attack.

The first jerks slightly as Jenna's arrow strikes his armor and is deflected, flying off into the bushes. "Cute effort, kid," the Orc snickers, his tusked mouth twisting into an even more sinister grin. As he crashes through the brush, he pulls free one of his throwing axes and hurls it toward the young archer in retaliation. However, Jenna is swift enough to duck out of the way; the projectile sails harmlessly overhead and sinks into the earth several feet behind her.

Artemis meets the Orc on the opposite side of the road halfway, charging with his short spear held aloft. The Orc tries to raise his greataxe into the path of the attack to block, but Artemis' blow comes too suddenly, and the point of his spear tears straight through the Orc's studded leather armor. With a gurgling gasp, the Orc collapses to the ground, writhing in pain. A wound like that would kill any normal opponent, especially with Artemis' incredible strength behind it, but Orcs are notoriously hard to kill- like cockroaches. It rolls onto its stomach and reaches for one of the javelins strapped to its back. Orc Ferocity is a helluva thing. He is bleeding out and dying, but only considered staggered.

The third Orc- the one who had appeared on the path from whence the adventurers came- raises his own hefty axe overhead and comes screaming down the road toward Artemis, recognizing the burly youth as a threat. Artemis attempts to dodge out of the way, but the Orc's reach is greater than it seems... and in a moment that strikes horror into the whole of the party, the greataxe slashes into the young man's body. Artemis takes 14 points of damage! Artemis nearly buckles under the attack, pain bolting through him and blood oozing from the massive gash across his abdomen. The Orc chuckles with glee as he sees Artemis struggling to keep his feet.

- - - -

Block 3 is up: Calia, Damien, Doreen, and Sariel.

EDIT: In case anybody catches this before the edit, I didn't calculate Artemis' temporary Rage HP, so he's still up.


out of curiosity wouldn't Artemis have charged the one up the road, the pfsrd says "You must have a clear path toward the opponent, and nothing can hinder your movement (such as difficult terrain or obstacles)" so the only orc he could have charged is the one up the road. who would have been bleeding out, then neither of the others could have charged him.

Edit: don't think it makes any difference, I believe the attack would still hit.


Female Gnome HP 16/17 | AC 17 | FF 13 | T 15 | Per +7 | F: 2 | R: 4 | W: 2 | Init +2 | Performance 8/8
Skills:
Diplomacy +7 | Disable Device +7 | Escape +3 | Know (arcana, local) +6 | Know (others) +2 | Perform (comedy, dance) +7
Prankster Bard 1

Calia stares in horror as the greataxe slashes across Artemis's front, but is surprised when he remains standing despite the horrific wound. He's going to kill himself if he pushes too hard! Quickly, though, she realizes that he's not the only one in danger - everyone on the road could quickly fall into the same peril, and fear will only hasten that fate. So she begins to shout to the group, trying to bolster their confidence.

We got this, guys! We're so tough, we drink alchemist's fire to cure heartburn!

She reaches for the bottle marked healing, nestled into her bandolier. Here, Artemis, take this! she whispers loudly.

Standard action, Inspire Courage for +1 to saves v. fear and charm, +1 to weapon attack and damage. Is it a move action to hand someone else an item? If so, move action to hand the healing potion to Artemis, as he may need it here shortly...


Barbarian 2 | HP 21/21 (R25) | AC:18 (21), T:11, F:16 | CMD:15, CMB:+4 | Save F+4 R+1, W+0 | Init:+1 | Perc: +5 || Rage 7/7 | Uncanny Dodge Chosen Image

Hatred and pain stoke the fires in the furnace, his breath like the billows heaving in and out. He glances over and shakes his head as blood pours from the gaping wound in his chest, ribs nearly visible beneath the flesh. "No Auntie Cal..." he grits out between gasps, using a nickname for her he'd not spoken since he was a child of 7. "...the fire burns within me..."

Can't drop from rage to drink, or I'll drop dead...


Hearing the orc snicker and say “Cute effort, kid” Sariel turns and sees the orc throw the axe at Jenna, preparing to attack that orc. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches Artemis savagely attack one orc then seeing Artemis savagely attacked himself, I don’t think that he can take another attack from that axe Sariel runs toward Artemis and the orc, quickly moving around Calia, he draws his mother’s morningstar, he calls out ”That one is not for you, Orc! Face me!” As he moves toward the orc he attempts to disturb its combat resolve. Lifting the spiked weapon with both hands he swings it at the attackers head.

move action: draws weapon while he does so, uses Omen to attempt to demoralize it, Attacks: mornigstar, two-handed, inspire, AC is 17 without shield

attack: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 4 + 1 = 21 for damage: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 1 = 6

intimidate: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14


Enormous Radioactive Monster - - hp tons/tons - - AC nuh-uh I got forcefield
Sariel Patrick Cornelius wrote:

out of curiosity wouldn't Artemis have charged the one up the road, the pfsrd says "You must have a clear path toward the opponent, and nothing can hinder your movement (such as difficult terrain or obstacles)" so the only orc he could have charged is the one up the road. who would have been bleeding out, then neither of the others could have charged him.

Edit: don't think it makes any difference, I believe the attack would still hit.

What? Of course not! *looks left and right, face reddening...*

Uh, rocks fall, Sariel dies!

...No, you're right, that would've made more sense. This is what I get for trying to write a combat post right after work without catching a nap between. Hindsight! It would still have hit, but I think I just got caught up in the description and all that. In any case, none of them are hidden behind difficult terrain now, so...


Shaman 1; Init +7; HP 8/10; AC 14/11/13; Perc 6; F +1, R +1, W +5

Damien takes a look at the orcs, then at the gaping wound down Artemis's front.

"This might hurt."

Girding himself, Damien runs in to try to patch Artemis up.

Assuming I don't get dropped from attacks of opportunity...
Healing Hex: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2


HP 11 | AC 15/T 13/FF 12 | F+2/R+5/W+2 | CMB +2 | CMD 15/12ff | Init +3 | Perc +6

Round 2 (After Doreen):

As the orcs attack Jenna watches in horror as Artemis is savagely attacked. "What?,... No, STOP! They're not real! They're some kind of magic! she shouts, lowering her bow and instead scanning the surrounding forest, trying to detect the illusion's source. "Stop it, whoever you are. He's really hurt!"

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8


Budd the C.H.U.D. wrote:
Uh, rocks fall, Sariel dies!

Yay, one of Sariel's long term goal was to be a martyr! ;)

1 to 50 of 1,007 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | next > last >>
Community / Forums / Online Campaigns / Play-by-Post / GM Budd the C.H.U.D.'s "Price of Immortality" Trilogy - Gameplay Thread All Messageboards

Want to post a reply? Sign in.