Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

1d6 ⇒ 6

Tsin drops a bit of the Witch's Kiss in the cauldron, the stew taking on a pleasantly piquant odor as it continues to bubble.

ZephTyr waits and wafts, watching the wondrous watering with weeds.

Quinn sniffs at the stew hungrily, "Smells good enough, a small taste can't hurt, can it?" Quinn will ladle out a spoonful and breath on it until cool, detect magic before consuming, then taste and advise on the spicery if no magic shows itself. "Not bad, not bad, what spice is next?"

The stew radiates magic.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15 Spellcraft

ZephTyr apparently needs some encouragement to try the stew.

It smells really good, ZephTyr. And looks pretty hearty.

And real men eat stew.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Quinn can't understand why the magical stew smells so good, and he's leery of witchery in this stoney tomb, still a hot meal would be great right now.

Will save to not eat stew, DC 15: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26

Tsin takes up all six jars, and tucks them away in her backpack, if only to irritate the stew maker for leaving them unattended.

Tsin readies to proceed, leaving behind the magical stew pot. She advances in whichever direction they have yet to travel.

Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24

Where are Mal and Pems?

ZephTyr looks blankly at Mal and Pems, wondering what they are doing.

Pems had Veteran's Day off and spent it raking leaves and ducking Hektiric tornadic winds.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27

Pems inhales deeply, his mouth watering with the smell. "This is magical! If you eat it, it will cure you of any curses you might be under. I wonder if the other spices do the same thing?"

ZephTyr tastes the stew, wondering if it will cure his oncoming old man smell.

The stew burns Hektir's airy tongue, plus its heat suffuses his blowhole, but it's definitely tasty and nourishing.

"It's a curse-breaking stew?" Malavarius scoffs, "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Then it's safe to eat, finally something good in this place!" Quinn doesn't hesitate in grabbing a bowl of stew. "Nothing like a good traveler's stew. Tsin, look at those other spices, maybe we can make this meal truly delicious."

keep adding spices and Quinn will keep eating, something interesting is bound to happen

Tsin scoffs, expecting better of her boys. "Will you be done with the stew, already? We have a pit to find, remember?"

She tries to rustle them up, and move onwards.

A baffled Quinn looks back and forth between Hektir and Tsin. "But...but...Hallway Stew!"

ZephTyr eats the dang stew, agreeing that hallway stew is not something that comes along everyday. It occurs to ZephTyr the air elemental form is the perfect form for eating hot stew and porridge: he's really good at blowing to cool it down for eating.

He finishes his food and is ready to move on, following Tsin.

While Malavarius is eager to move on past this powerful porridge, I'm fine with lingering if anyone is wanting to experiment with the spices and combinations and such. If we do though, maybe our curious tester can tuck into a spoiler the order in which each of the spices are added to the pot? Mott can settle each of the results (if any) in one fell swoop then.

That'd be good. Right now, Tsin was planning to take the spices, but Quinn wanted to keep adding spices.

Quinn sighs as he shifts his pack and follows the party. "I suppose I've had a bowl already and we do have the spices. Let's continue." The cleric falls in line behind Tsin.

Note that the spices did not radiate magic.

Following Tsin, you continue up another set of stairs until the passage widens into a natural cavern divided by a thick column of stone. A thick, unnatural darkness swallows everything, and a gnawing cold creeps into the stale air.

Another set of stairs rises on the far side of the cavern.

ZephTry breezes higher (hugging the ceiling when he can) and begins to move with the party up the stairs.

"Not sure this is the right way, but nothing here makes sense no how, piddlespotting witches and their piddlespotting whore temples..." Zeph grouses irritably, probably from want of more hallway stew.

"Fine then." Tsin looks up towards the stairs.

Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 19

"I suppose we should try to descend more than ascend." With consent, Tsin returns, past the stew room, to the undead cat room, and takes the other exit to the north.

Mal? Pems? Quinn? Are we still playing?

ZephTyr follows Tsin.

Quinn follows people around the twisting passageways. "Maybe that stew pot was the Eon Pit, a magically bottomless cauldron, a portal to the plane of stew! Think of the pub we could run with that, Hektir, heck we could even invent the 'food cart', just get a cart and horse, load up the stew pot and a keg and we would have a portable food establishment, can you imagine the possibilities?"

"Oh sure, when it's 'witchy' it's bad, but when it's endless food, it's fine..." Pems mutters after Quinn, shakes his head and follows after Tsin.

Malavarius harumpfs as the group performs an about-face. "What blazing difference does it make which direction we go in this blasted hole? We've no idea which way anything at all might be. For the love of all that's good and holy I am ready to be done with this wretched monument!"

The old wizard continues to dutifully stomp toward whatever random direction the younger folk have chosen, but his grumpiness is obviously beginning to get the better of him.

Going up the stairs -- which seem to lead upward for hundreds of feet, a climb that leaves your calves aching -- you find the passageway ends in a blank wall. Despite searching, you find no sign of an exit and turn back, passing the cauldron again on the landing.

You continue descending, returning to the room where you fought the pukwudgie and taking the remaining exit. You could still backtrack farther, but I'm going to make this assumption to keep us moving.

The hallway leads about 100 feet before ending in a door adorned with another horrific wreath of goat skulls.

Pems stops and stares at the goat skulls. "Well. I mean, it's not my idea of fashion, but I guess it works?" He sighs and moves forward to examine the door, using his senses and detecting magic as well. Perception: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (16) + 17 = 33

You detect no magic, other than the now-familiar auras of the darkness and chill in this part of the dungeon.

Quinn plants a hand against the door and pushes his sight through to the other side. Door Sight

Like a harrowing cage woven from bone, wood, and sinew, a tangle of massive drying racks exhibit the splayed remains of dozens of woodland creatures, some dead, some still twitching. Narrow wooden planks serve as precarious walkways leading between the racks, with several rope ladders ascending to various levels. Bloodstained leather buckets filled with cruel and filthy vivisection tools hang from the hideous structure in several spots.

Three hunched and deformed creatures, each possessing a third twisted, vestigial arm growing out of its torso, seem to be at work in the room.

Malavarius opines loudly to no one in particular, "Up stairs then back down the stairs then back round again in maddening circles! I'm a very old man, don't you know! Good heavens!"

Quinn reports the horrific sights behind the doors, including a detailed description of the three armed creatures. "Disgusting! These witches keep getting worse!"

ZephTyr wafts and waits, wondering. He tries to place the witches that Quinn describes.

1d20 + 14 ⇒ (20) + 14 = 34 Know (Local)
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18 Know (Nature)

"Cayden showed you what lad? Jehoshaphat! By golly, this blasted place is dreadful. Positively dreadful!"
Knowledge (arcana or planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (3) + 18 = 21

Mal, you think they're some sort of forlarren, though deformed somehow.

"Gadzooks! Quinn, those sound like twisted forlarren! What the blazes is going on in this wretched hole, hmm?! Forlarren with three arms?! Utter madness."

His task complete, Quinn steps well away from the door. "I certainly hope this type of vertical housing structure with a terrible new thing behind each door never exists in regular society."

C'mon people, push with your posts...especially if you're slow posting. Make your posts good ones.

ZephTyr whirls with impatient irritation.

"Open the piddlespotting door or move aside and let me do it. I don't care if the witchykin inside are sad, unhappy, or forlorn...or even fivehorned. Let's get a move on. I want out of this piddlespotting witchypit."

If Tsin or Quinn don't open the door, ZephTyr will.

Tsin listens to the sights that lie beyond the door, and hears nothing of Eon Pits. "If there is nothing beyond the door indicating an exit beyond, then we look elsewhere. We're not here to slaughter every creature in this place. Settle your kettle, blowhard. The only reason you'd want to open that door is to rob them of their possessions, once they're dead."

She tries to place them in the Crone's floorplan. "There was another door we need to check, aways back. Let's not kick a hornet's nest here." She's describing the southwest room that has four doors total, one which leads to the massive black on the map to the south.

If no one objects, she leads the boys onward.

Pems grins at Tsin and shrugs. "If I don't have to get stabbed by freaks with too many arms, I'm okay with that. Let's find this pit and get gone from this place. It's starting to make me pine for wintery evergreen forests." Pems grins at his pun and moves after Tsin.

There is a passageway heading south out of the room. And since there is and based on Tsin's conditional statement, I'm just going to have you enter (sorry for the brief slow-down, I figured Quinn would use his doorsight and wanted to give you time to make any preparations that you didn't make).

Concerned there may be something beyond the room, Pems opens the door, startling the three creatures inside. You clearly have the jump on them as they spin, letting out cries of alarm.

Party is up. Good to see here's where all my good rolls go; to your initiative instead of to my attacks in character I'm playing in other games...

Pems smiles at the weird three-armed goat people. "Hello! Dreadfully sorry, but we're the third arm inspections service, department of limbs and limb safety. I'm afraid you haven't filed your third quarter third arm assessment waivers and we're going to have to repossess. It's all a bit of a paperwork issue, to be sure, but the law's the law, you know."

Pems casts his fortune on Tsin, giving her the ability to roll twice for any D20 roll once per round, for a duration of 2 rounds. You must announce you're using this before you roll!

Round 1, Init 23

Zephtyr soars into the room, going immediately to his left, attacking the threewitchy there. (top left foe)

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24 to hit;
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 magic damage.

Round 1

Quinn blesses the party, "By Cayden destroy this horrible room of torture, all of these animals should be free!"

cast Bless on the party

If it's possible for Malavarius to catch at least 2 of the 3-armed forlarren without impacting his hangers on, he'll pop off a glitterdust. Otherwise, Mal will call up his protective ward.

Malavarius offers an aside to Zeno as the group springs into action, "Well, I suppose dealing with these strange forlarren is preferable to slogging up more of those godsforsaken stairs. I'm an old man, don't you know." We a shrug, he then calls up some of his own magics to help in the fight.

If Malavarius casts glitterdust, turn to page 74. (Will save DC 18 or blinded)
If he instead uses protective ward, turn to page 17. (+2 deflection bonus to AC for all allies w/in 10 ft)

Round 1, Init 20

Tsin listens to the descriptions of the forlarren before the door opens, then compares their descriptions to the reality, as the door swings wide, and reveals them.

Knowledge(Nature), Monster Lore: 1d20 + 9 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 9 + 3 = 25

Beginning to understand their dark natures, she joins Hektir in another slaughter for witch's sake. She renews thoughts of Winter, to be sure and punish the creature if it reaches out to her. Pems's Fortune for double roll on attack roll

+1 (Cold Iron) Falchion, Power Attack, Bless: 1d20 + 14 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 14 - 2 + 1 = 33 for 2d4 + 10 + 6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 10 + 6 = 21 damage
Fortune Second Roll: 1d20 + 14 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 14 - 2 + 1 = 19

Confirm Critical?: 1d20 + 14 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 14 - 2 + 1 = 22 for 2d4 + 10 + 6 ⇒ (1, 2) + 10 + 6 = 19 damage

She turns on the two others. "We've shown our might. Consider submitting without violence, and we need not show it again."

Mal, no special defenses or attacks.

Hektir pummels the closest forlarren, though his blow seems to barely hurt it, the bruise almost completely healing immediately they have some type of DR.

Pems gives Tsin good fortune, which the woman immediately puts to good use, her blade cutting deeply into the twisted fey's chest, splattering blood everywhere though it manages to keep its feet.

Quinn brings down his blessing on the group while Mal catches the remaining two creatures in a cloud of glittery dust, apparently blinding one of them.

The two that aren't blinded fall back, scrambling up the vivisection racks which require a DC 10 Climb check to go up. The third drinks a potion as he blinks the glittery dust out of his eyes.

Pems sighs. "It used to be that a bureaucrat received a warm greeting when discharging his duties, but I can see that we're going to have to resort to harsher measures! In that case, I am going to issue a strongly worded memo to my superiors regarding your behavior! And within 6-8 weeks, they will be here to chastise you personally, assuming their expense vouchers clear the proper review channels..." Pems gives the nearest four-armen the EVIL EYE! Will DC 18 or -4 to Attacks for 8 rounds! Only 1 round on a success!