I reach up and scratch my owl's chin.
Thank you Hugo. That would be appreciated. I have spend my whole life living in Canterwall, but have never made it this far west to Ravengo.
We'll pause you two, just outside the church, until the other PCs, who are destined for said church, arrive. Until then, feel free to role play!
Bright, red rubies well up underneath her blouse.
Vaghn, thinking quickly, steps back and utters a spell... filling the air with light sounds and soft dust, glittering and twinkling. Almost immediately, Rendel succumbs... he wavers, a look of frustration on his face, as he goes limp and collapses. Madeline, whether from the spell or shock - you do not know - follow suite. She goes limp and collapses atop her former friend turned assailant. Smith moves, his hammer in hand, toward his mistress protectively but then suddenly vanishes... all of this gear dropping to the cold, muddy earth below him.
Creel, Vaghn - Madeline and Rendel both appear to be sleeping. Both are bleeding. You can resolve all actions as you see fit now. Creel, I'm going to hold your attack now - unless you elect to follow through. Your call.
Having a guide, Alexa follows Hugo out the door to see if they can find Kendra. Amazingly, as soon as she steps her foot out the door, all time stops and she finds herself and Hugo mysteriously frozen in time, as though something is pending, but has not yet occurred.
|Hugo van der Maarl|
Hugo rolls a knowledge History check and realises Diablo 3 came out. He believes the absence of party members may be connected.
Would have thought that would be a knowledge religion roll.
Sorry still here. No need to smack the snoozing
Dropping his axe Creel kneels between the bodies. The night grows pale as a faint glow seems to flow from Creel into first Madeline and then Rendal Lay on hands 1d6 ⇒ 2 for Madeline and 1d6 ⇒ 5 for possesed boy. 2 uses left.
|Vaghn der Grafft|
Madeline too groans as she sits up, her gaze flitting briefly over the 'discarded' things left behind by the vanishing of Smith. As for Rendel...all she can do is but glower at the man......
"Come, we should hurry to get too the cemetery and the good father." She says, doing her best to rise.
"You were not yourself there for a minute friend." Creel takes a good look at the inquisitor. (Detect evil picking anything up?)
Creel casually picks up the sword that rendal dropped when the sleep spell hit. "Something happened to you just after we put down these poor townsmen. We should get you to Grimburrow, just in case."
Creel 'forgets' to return Rendal's sword. Tucking it in his belt and not refering to it as they make their way to the chapel.
Getting sore from being frozen in time in one position for so long, Alexa shift so that now she appears to be leaping out of the door like a little girl leaping through spring flowers.
|Vaghn der Grafft|
Finals officially done. Now to attempt to return to some semblance of a real life...
Vaghn aids Madeline as best he can. He is obviously brimming with questions about the disappearance of Mr. Smith, but for once holds his tongue and helps her limp along toward the temple.
At the good Father's rather brusque manners, Madeline sags against Vaghn and,
Will Save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
Composes herself and her now tattered clothes.
"There are strange and malevolent things afoot within your precinct. Some of your charges have arisen." She informs him.
|Vaghn der Grafft|
"It is true, Father. The dead walk in Ravengro. Whatever the cultists unleashed in their wake is growing stronger, and i fear it emanates from Harrowstone, corrupting the dead, and perhaps the living as well."
Father Grimburrow frowns, adjusting his attire and looking toward the door. Then, he speaks, "Two newcomers, mercenaries like yourselves, arrived today seeking out the late Professor Lorrimor. I believe, like each of you, they were invited... quite possibly... to deal with this problem. It seems the good professor knew more than he let on."
Father Grimburrow sighs, then continues. "I would seek them out, then inform the town council of what has transpired. They should know immediately. Then, if you have the strength and wit, go forth and avenge the late professor."
Will Save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Madeline stiffens under Father Grimburrow's 'advice'....waiting until the man has finished his exposition before replying in a clipped and precise tone.
"Good Sir. The dead arise and walk from your grave yard." She emphasizes the situation with out raising her voice.
"We have just seen a pack of these...revenants..back to an non-ambulatory state." And here she indicates her wounds and damage.
"One would think that your concerns would be with your graveyard..." She lets her statement hang for but a few moments before finishing.
"We will, of course, seek out these other folk of whom you speak and continue our endeavors in regard to the Lorrimor affair."
Fort Save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Then she sags, almost collapsing on Vaghn's arm, as the strain of talking to the good Father takes its toll upon her wounds.
I apologise for the hasty entrance good father, our trials are not your burden. The bodies are back along the lane. We laid them out the best we could but you will know better what to do."
Creel turns to leave but pauses, his hand resting lightly on Madelines bloody shounder.
"Just to let you know Father, and accepting that you may have meant no slur by it, you must know, as I do, good people who fight for coin. But just to be clear.." Here Creel's hand tighens momentairlly on Madelines wound and her shoulder seems to glow for a moment. [b]"...we are not mercenaries. Good night to you."
Lay on hands, 1d6 ⇒ 6 hp healed to Madeline.
Father Grimburrow looks at the four of you (Vaghn, Rendel, Madeline, and Creel), and smiles weakly. He looks tired, although you are not certain as to whether it is your news, or some other news, that wears on him. He doesn't appear offended by your rebuttal, or from his posture, aggressive, either. He simply appears tired.
He straightens and speaks, "First, Sir Creel, I meant no offense. People like yourselves ...with such diverse talents.. " He pauses, thinking carefully as he speaks, "...tend to work for coin, even when the only jobs they take are in the name of good causes. I only assumed you were such, as the late professor, may the Lady of Graves judge him kindly, knew many such people."
He then addresses Madeline directly.
"Miss, I understand. These are dire circumstances and this is precisely why I suggested you tell the town council immediately. It is they who control the watch and they who will respond to such problems ...not I. I am an old man, a cleric of the Lady, true, but not fit to fight hordes of the undead."
He then pauses, takes a deep breath, and speaks directly to Rendel.
"I have some news for you sir. A runner from the Church of Iomedae arrived this morning. Your father sends word and requests that you meet him in Gallowspire, as his fight against cultists of the Whispering Tyrant has brought him there. I'm not sure how he knew you were here, but the runner suggested that your father met with Professor Lorrimor shortly before his death."
Rendel smiles weakly at your group, nods, turns on his heel, and departs.
"Farewell Sir Rendel. We shall meet again someday."
To the good father: "I understand., thank you. I hope we are not facing a horde. We only found a handful and they seemed directionless. They will need to be reburied and their families calmed. This is why we came to you first. But we tarry, the watch needs to know. Where are these new allies? We will speak with them as we head for the constables."
To Madeline and Vaughn. "You both can travel faster than I. Run to the Jail and rouse who you can. I will try to make a start here. See how many graves were disturbed."
Creel describes the zombies to Father Grimmborrow and any of his staff nearby. Paying close attention to surviving distinctive features, clothing, and state of decay, Creel hopes to get a clue to their identity. Knowing a grave tio start with would be a huge help if we are not facing a general rising. He will then head for that grave or to the boneyard entrance if more general search is needed. In case it matters he will be carrying a torch with his shield ready in the other hand/arm. So AC is 17.
Madeline smiles weakly at Creel.
"My friend, in my current state I feel less than fit to do anything faster than your good self." She admits. Looking to Vaghn, she moves her flag to lean against Creel and free the other man up for carrying her weight.
As in, what I meant to say is Madeline stops leaning upon Vaghn and tries to garner support from Creel, hence freeing up Vaghn to rouse the guards etc.
M, what is your current hp? I have 1 loh left hoping to save it just in case but if you need it...
RGM, forget about questioning Grim. I expect the graves will not be hard to find.
"Vaghn, get running. There might be more of them."
"Come Madame Peshtussle. Let us meet these new friends of the professor." "A moonlit walk will do you good."
|Vaghn der Grafft|
"Yes, yes of course. I am sure I will find it easily enough. I shall return shortly!"
Vaghn hurries out of the church. As he goes, he says to himself "He thought I was a mercenary?" Grinning suddenly, he adjusts his hat and rushes off to find the town council.
As you two chat, you see a rather dour looking man, dressed in worn armor and carrying an old, ornate long sword stride out of the Church of Pharasma with what could only be called purpose. He nods curtly to you as he passes, brushing aside his white hair from his green eyes as he does.
Before you have a chance to stop him, a second man, clearly from academia, runs out and passes the first man. You don't have much time to take him in, but you notice he wears a dashing hat and carries a rather nice looking bull whip. He pays you little attention as he passes, headed east into town.
Finally, two more people walk out. These two, a human male and a half-eleven woman, look exhausted and hurt. The woman, a finely crafted Aldori dueling sword at her hip, looks the worst of the two. Blood stains her shoulder, her tunic torn in several places. The other man, younger by virtue of his race, wears battleworn scale mail, carries a large, wooden shield, and leans on a rather nice halberd. He appears to be holding up the woman, who is clearly leaning on him.
Madeline, still weak from the attack and at a loss without her man servant, seems set aback. She's weak and troubled, a few shades lighter for her recent skirmish.
Upon walking out, you two immediately notice a fair like yourselves. The woman, however, is not nearly as refined as the man adjacent to her. She is, in a word, unkempt. Her brown hair is a mess and she is obviously without any make-up whatsoever. She leans on an old, gnarled staff as she looks around. A large, snowy own sits gently on her shoulder.
The man, dressed in dark robes, appears to be one of the Pharasma young acolytes. He's pale and thin - more so than most of the acolytes you've met so far, and looks a little sickly. Like his companion, he appears to be looking around. He doesn't strike you as familiar.
Alexa is rather surprised as shortly after leaving the temple, four rather harried individuals come hurriedly to the temple. The four quickly enter the temple.
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22 --> Not sure of the time of day. Add +2 if night/low light.
Alexa hears the father speak with them and then hears a rather brusque female voice which almost sounds to be chastising the good father. As Alexa turns to return to make sure the father is ok, one of the individuals exits the temple at nearly a run and before Alexa can even ask him if everything is ok, he rushes off. Then another of the four who entered the temple rushes by, this one looking like an academic, who also ignores Alexa and Hugo.
Wondering what this commotion is about, Alexa begins to head back into the temple to see if she can be of assistance when the last two exit, with this pair stopping to at least say hello.
After having heard the woman's curt tone to the father, Alexa hesitantly smiles. Hello, can I help you?
As she is saying this, Alexa scans the woman up and down wondering at her rather beaten appearance.
RDM, should Hugo and I have leveled to level 2 at this point? Want to check before we jump into a tough battle.
Are we keeping track of exp or are you? In all my other campaigns the DM has been doing this. Just want to make sure before I suddenly discover I have to track through hundreds of posts to figure out what I have done.
Alexa continues to scan the bloodied woman and the one who appears to be a knight.
What happened to you? You look as though you walked between a mother bear with a bad atitude and her cub.
|Hugo van der Maarl|
Taking stride with the purposeful Alexa and more than a little bewildered by the sudden influx of strangers associated with the late Professor's funeral, Hugo's eyes settle on the battered, brusied and in some instances mangled forms of the two strangers.
"By the Lady, you're in ribbons! I don't know what you have been tangling with but you are lucky to be alive. This is no safe land outside this village, especially for a stranger"
Hugo places a hand on each of Madeline's shoulders and ignoring her recoil from a stranger's grasp, channels positive energy into her beleagured form, still shocked at himself and his newly developing powers.
Channel Energy 1d6 ⇒ 5 to all within 30ft
Hugo opens his eyes and allows himseld a wan and humorless smile
"Consider this a greeting gift; welcome to my home"
Madeline smiles in thanks and gratitude for the young Cleric's help and to the inquisitive...lass...she also smiles.
"My friends and I have been tangling with things that are afoot within the prescient of this town. Master Vaghn has just rushed off to raise more aid..." She pauses,
"Are you pair perhaps locals?" She asks.
No, I am not from Ravengo. I was born and raised several days walk east-southeast of here, just north of the Gallowsspire. But I have spent the last several years living farther north, first in Tamrivina and most recently I have lived off the land, living in the wonderful woods and plains that make up this great nation.
Alexa then pauses thinking about her words.
Yourself? You do not appear to be from the great nation of Ustalav.
"Happy to meet you. Name's Creel." The armored man slings the shield ofer his shoulder. "Thank you for the welcome gift. We encountered some little trouble on the way here."
Creel looks about him and locates the path leading to the graveyard.
"Please forgive me for being rude but Madame and I have a pressing errand. We would welcome your aid but I must tell you there may be more wounds to mend before morning."
Creel turns to take the gravepath hoping the others will follow.
Madeline continues to smile at Alexa and Hugo, gently easing herself off her friend's arm as the soothing/restorative effects of Hugo's power takes effect.
"Ah...myself?" She asks, even as she begins to resettle her mussed hair..."Well...why don't we see to the possible coming calamity before making lasting introductions?" Madeline suggests, possibly trying to sound reassuring...and just as possibly failing.
I assume you are the strangers in town that the father mentioned. My goal is the Professor's home, but a little side trip should not be a problem.
Oh, and my name is Alexa. And this beautiful creature, I reach up and scratch Spark's chin. is Spark, my faithful companion in the wilderness.
Madeline nods and waves her hands at herself and Creel as she quickly rushes through an impromptu introduction.
"Alexa? Creel, Madeline. Creel, Madeline? Alexa. Wonderful!" She pauses as she glances to the quiet cleric for a moment, then continues.
"So, shall we go and help Master Vaughn rouse the town guard and possibly join in any fun?" Madeline suggests brightly.
Before I get into something over my head, if I may be so bold, what are you fighting? I did not realize that this was a war zone, except when the orcs wander over from Belkzen.
"No, Mister Vaghn has his task. Ours is to find where the bodies came from. We welcome your aid Alexa and Sparks eyes. We are looking for disturbed graves. Maybe only three or four. Maybe more. We found some former residents of this place tearing apart a dog ealier this evening. Mister Vaghn is rousing the millitia. If you wish to help us I think this is the path to the graveyard. We should be moving."
Creel, jaw set, moves down the path.
Btw. Madeline, did you remember to grab Smiths gear when he discorporated? Or does it travel with him?