GM SpiderBeard's Carrion Crown (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Arval is stunned by the sudden silence. He stomps on after whiskey, trying to make as much noise as possible. Once outside of the radius the sudden wave of sound disorients him slightly for a moment.
"What was that?!"
He says to the dwarf in front of him.

I' were a spell we be needin' t' learn! Glorious quietude!"

As Whiskeyjack realizes that this necromancer may have given him the greatest gift of his adventuring life, Lena quickly scampers out of the silence spell. The curate continues with her prayers and then spins in place as she chants before her scythe flies out of her hands, straight for Lena! The nimble little halfling ducks the attack, and the scythe boomerangs back to the curate's hand.

Hand of the Alcolyte: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19 Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 1) + 6 = 11

Everyone is up!

Arval keeps skirting around the tentacles and is getting close to the single enemy left.
"Yes... Can you cast it? And who did these bloody tentacles?!"
He says as he stomps on to the ground.

Whiskeyjack kept running after the caster, his breath coming out in great puffs and wheezing gasps. He doesn't even bother to answer Arval as he struggled to keep from staggering.

Double move

Round 3, Init 28

Wren moves again and continues to skirt the ugly black mess of wavy tentacles.

"Oh, this is an unholy mess!" When she gets clear, she fires her wand again.
4d4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 4, 3, 4) + 4 = 17 magic missile

Kawrock fires another fire bolt at the necromancer. "Very tricky this one." he adds after sending his spell off.

Ranged touch: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 6 + 1 = 24
Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

---- --- ----?

spellcraft: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19

Lena Scrabbles away saying -- -- -- -- me me, oh sounds back

double move

The magic missile slams into the curate, who snarls and keeps fighting regardless of the overwhelming odds that now face her. A blast of fire scorches her as well. As Whiskeyjack charges up, she chants as she backs up.

"Urgathoa take his eyes!"

Whiskeyjack's Fort Save: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

The world begins to rapidly grow dark around the cleric, but he's a dwarf and they don't put up with this crap. Calling upon his own god, Whiskeyjack fights back the blindness!

Everyone is up!

hey, I thought they had to whisper?

Lena reaches into the air, and clutches flame, then throws it at the cleric.

firebolt: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19 touch attack

damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Round 4, Init 28

"Oh, how is this crone still standing? And what is she throwing? A scythe? Who does that? When you're dead, we'll all breathe a 'scythe of relief'!" Wren grouches as she fires her wand again.

4d4 + 4 ⇒ (4, 4, 1, 3) + 4 = 16 magic missile

With an angry cry Arval charges forward towards the cleric.
"DIE"

Charging power attack: 1d20 + 13 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 13 + 2 = 30
Intimidate: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (19) + 14 = 33
Dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24

Not sure if the darkness thing also counts for Arval? Or if it is blindness on Whiskey or darkness on an area.

Pretty sure it was a blindness spell (or similar) on Whiskeyjack

Whiskeyjack threw off the spell and countered with a sweep of his hammer, aimed at the fleeing woman's knees. Cutting off their retreat made it so much easier for Arval to do his thing.

attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

It was blindness cast on Whiskeyjack.

The curate snarls defiantly as she is hammered with another magic missile and Lena's spell. Then, Arval finally gets past the huge radius of tentacles and charges right for her. He runs her through and she claws wildly at him for a moment before she goes still.

End of Combat

Loot spreadsheet is updated. I didn't add the unholy water or unholy symbol.

eldon, are you dancing? Is that appropriate?

Wren shuffles over to identify the magics, selecting the PoP1 for herself (unless others wish to lay claim).

"Wow, Vladlena, that was quite the roiling mass of ugly there. Maybe you want to be sure to avoid us when you cast that in the future?" Wren clucks as she plucks the pearl.

"Shall we check out this farmstead? Maybe there will be a clue as to why they were here within?"

Arval cleans his blade on the curate and moves over to the farmstead, following Wren's idea.

Perception inside: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Lena smiles sweetly at the feathered elf. Don't worry Wren, it would never hit you accidently

She moves over to the farmstead with Arval.

aid for perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

The group explores the abandoned homestead thoroughly but doesn't find anything of value or interest.

Nearby is a chandelry (adjacent to the homestead in fact), to the east there is a dyer's shop that looks very intact, and to the southeast is a butcher's shop. More buildings are to the southeast, south, and eastern part of town. Distantly in the northeast there is also what looks like a gravedigger's shop.

Didn't Wolfistan say he had some men in the area? Perhaps we should be wary of them as well." Kawrock takes a look and listen to see if there is anyone approaching.

Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (15) + 16 = 31

"I could also take to the air to scout out the town." He adds.

"I could also take to the air to scout out the town." He adds.

Wren looks to the sky as she considers the idea, then shrugs. "You sure could...but maybe you want to take the shape of something less...obvious? Noticeable? Some form Wolfistan's men haven't seen, if they are here?"

Wren points to the dryer's shop, and then the butcher's.

"In the meantime, we'll go check in those stores. After all, we're going to need to look to find our foes if they are here. You can't expect all of them to be out marching with a gang of flaming bloody flaming skeletons."

"Of course, it would be easier to find them if they were the 'Loud Drums and Trumpets Way' rather than the 'Whispering Way', huh?"

Arval snorts at Wren's joke, following her to the nearest shop.

Kawrock just shakes his head at the elfs joke, but he does listen to her advice about scouting by air. Taking a moment to focus his mind he shifts into a raven and takes to the air over the small town.

Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34

Whiskeyjack smashed the holy symbol of Urgathoa with his hammer before following the others in their explorations. It was never good to leave that kind of unholy artifact just laying about, lest it tempt the unwary.

"Ye be lookin' a' i' all wrong, methinks. If'n ye be really wantin' t' find th' Whisperers, then ye should be th' ones marchin' wit' drums and fanfare. O' course, tha' would like t' ge' ye more interest than ye be wantin'."

perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24

The butcher's shop is around eighty feet south adjacent to another abandoned homestead. You head southwards after Whiskeyjack smashes the holy symbol, and make your way to the shop. The northernmost door is open, and you peek in to show an empty foyer. A door leads westwards further into the butcher shop.

As you approach, you hear a strange snarling sound further inside of the building.

Map is updated.

Anything from Kawrock's high in the sky scouting? Is everyone/thing indoors?

Wren's ears swivel forward like an owl's, trying to hone in on the noise.

"You guys hear that? It's an awful racket, ain't? Sort of snarling? Reminds me of this one human I used to travel with...blahblahblah...had a sword, I think his name was 'Oval', like his head or something...blahblahblah...used to march all about, in front...blahblahblah...madly in love with me...blahblahblah...I had a hard time turning him down...blahblahblah...right near his backside...blahblahblah...first two fingers, then a third...blahblahblah...very hot, very heavy...blahblahblah...and that's how you make flumph stew."

Wren moves off to the side so others can enter first.

Arval raises an eyebrow at Wren, not really understanding this joke. He holds his sword and shield ready.
"Is this really the time for that?"

Whoops, Kawrock going raven and taking off was kind of skimmed over there.

Kawrock soars high into the sky to get a good view on everything. Moving around Feldgrau he immediately spots the occasional patrol, which seems to involve one or more dark-robed figures, anything from a couple to a dozen skeletons, and the occasional strange, ogre-like figure lurching alongside. At one point, he sees what appears to be a wolf avoiding the patrols, bolting from one home to another.

Some notable features Kawrock picks out:

- A large crumbling tower which looms over the town square in the east. Within the square are many skeletons milling about a huge trench. An intact building is beside the tower.

- Directly east of the group are two of the large buildings, an inn and a mill, which are both intact. It appears the wolves Kawrock spotted ran into the mill.

- There are a couple of intact buildings to the south as well, a tavern and what looks like an apothecary.

Udpating the Map of Feldgrau with some notes.

Wren waits for someone to go inside or do anything. She fluffs her feathers expectantly.

Stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23

Eldon sneaks up to the window and takes a peek inside the building. If there's nothing to be seen through the window, Eldon will head to the door and try to open it with as little noise as possible as he takes another peek inside the building.

Eldon creeps into the foyer and peeks through the south window. It shows what was probably once the room for hanging meat as hooks hang from the ceiling. He hears some muttering from the west door.

Eldon relays the info to the others by pressing one finger against his lips and pointing the other at the west door. He moves over to the west door while drawing his silver rapier, and takes a deep breath.

Here goes!

Eldon yanks the door open and points his rapier at whoever's inside. "Surrender, you scoundrels! You are faced with the epically mighty Eldon Appleton, master storyteller and fencer!"

Intimidate: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

Wren nods excitedly at Eldon's words, know that she would surrender immediately to the halfling's words, no doubt.

Wren waits for someone to go inside or come out. She fluffs her feathers expectantly.

Arval suddenly gets really nervous as Eldon starts yelling, he whispers to whiskey.
"What is he doing?!"

"Wha' 'e's always doin'. Tryin' t' ge' 'imself an' us killed! Be ready t' save 'is scrawny hide when he ge's i' stuck in th' jaws o' a trap!"

Whiskeyjack lifted shield and hammer and moved forward.

The group gathers behind Eldon as it becomes very, very clear he's about to do something impossibly stupid brave. The door swings open inwards to reveal a cultist, two very nasty-looking skeletons, and a... thing.

From the shadows steps forth a hideously malformed corpse with a crooked spine and bent limbs wrapped with thick folds of sinewy muscle. Its hairless, graygreen flesh erupts with large, swollen pustules. As soon as it senses you, it drops to all fours and rushes forward, hungrily its snapping oversized jaws like a rabid dog.

Eldon leaps into the doorway, shouting out his challenge. The priest at the back looks at him with astonishment, and seems very unsure of what to do about Eldon. The festrog and the priest seem ready for the group, but the skeletons have been totally taken off guard.

Surprise! Kawrock, and Arval have standard actions to take! Please note you are in a surprise round and only have one standard or move action.

Going to play this as if Kawrock has just returned from scouting.

Kawrock lands shifting into his regular form. "What have you gotten us into now Eldon?!?"

Using a standard to change forms.

Eldon you can't intimidate undead!

Arval steps inside the room and attacks the first skeleton whilst cursing Eldon for his stupidity.

Atk: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27
Dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23

k. religion: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

"Th' dog-thing be a festrog, an' a biggun too! Dinnae underestimate i', fer they be fearsome things."

Round Surprise, Init 14

Wren, who always acts in the surprise round, moves around to get a better look at the undead.

1d20 + 17 ⇒ (4) + 17 = 21 Know (Religion) - Questions: DRs? Special Attacks?

"Oh dearie, a festrog. Ugly thing, isn't it?"

@Wren - no DRs. It looks like it'd be pretty good at tripping folks, though.

Everyone yells at poor Eldon who was pretty heroic, all things considered. Arval steps into the room and makes with the slashing against what turns out to be a very well-armoured skeleton. Arval nonetheless connects, almost destroying it outright.

The festrog lets out a building-shaking roar and the floor shakes as it stomps for Arval. The big warrior feels a sudden pain as teeth latch onto his armour, and he is then thrown to the ground!

Arval takes 12 damage and is tripped! Wren and Whiskeyjack are up!

Round 1, Init 14

Wren offers a fireball into the room, bathing the space in fire. Should be able to place it to get all 4 but not Arval.

8d6 ⇒ (5, 5, 4, 2, 5, 4, 6, 2) = 33 fire damage vs. DC 20 fireball for half

Wren shuffles a bit, thinking that yet more pyrotechnics might be in the offing from a certain pyrobirdiac.

Whiskeyjack waited as Wren's fireball lit up the interior of the room, then he shielded himself and charged in, his shield held high over Arval's prone form.

Cast Shield of Faith (+3), then move in. AC is now 29, and saving shield (+2) is up.

Wren's offering of a fireball is gratefully accepted by the skeletons' faces.

KABLAM!!

The two skeletons are completely blown apart and the festrog is horribly damaged by the fireball. The curate manages to leap out of the way, and is only partially injured.

The curate rushes forwards, cursing.

"By Urgathoa be repaired!"

Many of the festrog's wounds are healed.

Lena, Eldon, Kawrock, and Arval are up! Remember that ARval is prone.

Kawrock gives Wren an approving nod. "Very nice fireball, I was not aware you had a feather that did that." The tengu says as he follows the elf's fireball with one of his own.

DC 17 reflex: 8d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 6, 4, 5, 3, 5, 6) = 38

Arval stands up from his prone state, provoking an attack, and grunting as he puts his weight on his legs again. He takes a step closer and swings again at the large beast.

Atk: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 16
Dmg: 1d10 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17

Move to stand up, 5 foot step to get closer and standard to chop.

Reflex: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Bite: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 Damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Bite: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 Damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 Damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Claw: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19 Damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Trip: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25

WHOOOF

Another fireball explodes, sending the curate flying back against the wall. She's a ruined mess of a human being but still somehow manages to keep steady, snarling and muttering prayers to her dark God. The festrog is also almost done fore. It swipes at Arval, who blocks the attack and counterattacks, but his sword is turned aside by the festrog's armour.

The festrog snarls and then pounces at Arval, doing its best to rip him apart. However, Arval manages to block every incoming blow and stands stalwart.

Wren and Whiskeyjack are up!

"Very nice fireball, I was not aware you had a feather that did that."

Wren squawks in some angry squabble back at Kawrock, coerced by the birdbrains and their short memories.

"SQUAWK!"

Round 3, Init 14

Wren draws her wand and fires magic missiles at the Festrog.

4d4 + 4 ⇒ (1, 2, 3, 4) + 4 = 14 force damage

Suprise round

Lena magic missiles the curate

magic missile: 4d4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 2, 2, 3) + 4 = 13

Round one
she repeats, if needed, either the curate or the undead,

magic missile: 4d4 + 4 ⇒ (3, 4, 2, 2) + 4 = 15 +1 damage if undead