After eight hours of concentration, La Siréene casts Detect Magic and looks down upon her work, pleased with the result.
"Here you go, Quinn. You're welcome."
Her work finished, she silently reflects upon this new potential within her as the group readies to move out into the rainy night once more, she considers the language of the previous vampire mists, that she had intuitively identified and understood to be Aklo. How easy the language was for her to grasp, now. Perhaps the tongue would come in handy.
She moves over to Sandru. "Here. This might prove helpful." She touches his arm and casts Ant Haul, improving his lifting capacity threefold.
Caromarc, you may always take what you need from Sandru. If Sandru doesn't have enough we have these other... friends.
As the others work, meditate or do what they are inclined to do I stand by the door to the shop, looking out into the madness. Rain, snow, whatever.
We cannot stay within the safety of these walls. Not and keep our self-respect. I wish I knew a direction, so I could take it.
Umm, not sure how it happened... But, I missed ALL of yesterday's posts. Until just now. Oi!
|Earl J V Caromarc|
"I was giving some thought to the matter of threnodic magic, and where to learn more about it. One of my fellow students at Lepidstadt had passed on a rumor of a place where such lore may be found; have any of you ever heard of the Anaphexian Library?"
"I've heard of it" acknowledges Caromarc
|Earl J V Caromarc|
"Master Caromarc...is there a command word to activate this ability?"
"There is! Not incredibly imaginative, I'm afraid. I chose fulgur - the Draconic word for lightning."
"I had considered going for something Elven, but I recalled what befell a friend of mine who activating an item whilst swearing... Draconic seemed the safer option."
"While it functions, it isn't my finest work. Once I have access to a lab, and some time, I'd ask you to return the bow to me for a while so I can stabilise the magic. I'm afraid I've rather relied on some of the unusual properties resident in the current ethereal vibrations, and without those properties the bow may well become... temperamental. Also I'd like to render it properly waterproof. Oh - and you'll need to make sure you don't use conductive strings."
"We may have to reconnoiter there after we deal with the sorcerers. Perhaps we'll learn more of it from them."
Out into the darkness again, the night skyline traced with eerie glows and intermittent lightning. Ianez tilts his battered hat slightly, to shed the rain better. "Gentlemen and, ah, La Siréene, time we were away. The sooner we can resolve this the better."
Perception check: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (2) + 16 = 18
|Earl J V Caromarc|
|Dr. Hareton Grey|
Hareton looks anxiously at Sandru. "I think if we don't, they will come for us. Sooner than you think. They are hungry..."
He inhales deeply, readies his supplies. "Though demoralized, I'm not quite ready to just lay down and be ripped apart by ghouls. Maybe the key the dwarf spoke of will provide us some answers."
He looks across Sandru's cutlass, Quinn's bow, Blackacre's firearm... Before, rag-tag refugees thrown together by circumstance. Now, coordinated tactics...improved weaponry... A small army. A strike force.
He looks down, then glares out grimly from under his brows.
"Let's go make a problem for some sorcerers."
Quinn looks at every member of the group."We have been doing well so far in such a short time together. I am going to suggest the same strategy as was performed when we were in the tunnels."
"Sandu will go out ahead of the group, doing some recon."
"I will be in direct communication with him via a simple cantrip and relay what he finds."
"I will lead the rest of us following distance behind him."
"Manservant can pick up the rear."
"The rest can stay in the middle."
"Sounds ok with everyone?"
Your party takes to the road. You move stealthily and focused, like wolves on the hunt. You pass dark empty-looking buildings that leave you to wonder are the inhabitants fled, merely asleep, or have they met a more gruesome fate? Some structures show signs of forced entry: broken windows, splintered or missing doors, small house-fires breaking out and dotting the night. You hear terrified screams, indignant shouting, growls, howls, screeches, and other monstrous noises. The clang of fighting. Though on one level, you know it's the townsfolk fighting back the darkness, just like you, the surrealism of the landscape can't help but underscore your quest with a gnawing sense of existential loneliness.
The glamered clothing gets wet in the rain, but does a bizarre thing where it snaps...adjusts...reverts back to its original appearance. Over and over again. Wet, snap, warp, bend...perfectly clean, pressed garments. Wet, snap, stretch, revert...perfectly clean, pressed garments.
Any other night, I would seek out every sound, understand it and act... Tireless. Any other night I would be wet... and look wet.
Hearing might not be enough tonight, but if I see something... Well, then we will have to see. See... Very funny, brute. Make me better... F__k you!
|Earl J V Caromarc|
After half an hour, you reach Ashcaster Lane. The street is set back several lanes from the main trolley lines. The Salon is on a large, square property incongruously nestled in the heart of the city; this juxtaposition lends it an air of guarded wealth, privilege, dominance, and power-broking. The understated threat of a mafia, but the self-announcement of a peacock.
The building is a grand mansion with courtyards, thick walls, arcades, and wrought iron balconies. The front of the building sits on the property line, with an asymmetrical arrangement of arched openings; these are garbed with hanging plants with broad leaves, and wrapped in vines. The architecture has a steeply pitched, side-gabled roof. The exterior is made of brick and stucco.
Outside the front doors, sheltered under an overhang, stands an easel wreathed in lilies and decorated with a banner, the type that might be used to greet guests on some special occasion.
There are stately carriages parked along the curb, and some parked around the side of the property. The front of the place is relatively quiet. Interior lights and chandeliers shine refracted through the beveled windows.
There are stables annexed to the main building. As you approach, you must pass by these first. Horses lay on the ground, fallen to their sides, battered, bruised. Dead. You notice that the coach, the one that Hergelund's gnome driver was going to transport you in, is parked in the street close to the stables. Not really parked; it sits askew in the road not parallel to the curb. As if it was suddenly abandoned and left there.
Neither horse is with the carriage. You discover one of them, the brown mare, lying on its side in the mass grave of dead horses. The dappled palomino is nowhere to be seen.
It's reasonable to assume that when the dragon, Harbinger, attacked the gnome driver, the horses were frightened off and ran here. Where a different danger felled the brown mare.
You hear a whinny of distress from inside the stables.
|Earl J V Caromarc|
Amid the fallen horses in the stables, in one of the far pens, is the dappled palomino! It rears on its hind legs, eyes rolling in fright. An eerie equine creature stands before it, calm, contemplating how it will murder this lone final victim.
An angel of death...
The monster's skin is smoky, like the curtain of unconsciousness that overtakes the sleeper. Flames spurt from its hair and nostrils, and its hooves gently shower a spray of sparks.
I want to scream! But, remain silent and try to reach the creature before it realizes I am there... drawing my blade and striking!
Upon hearing Sandu's call for assistance, the half-elven law man springs into action. Quinn's speed is unparallelled (running at 50 feet per round) as he goes to aid a comrad at arms. He calls to the others behind him. "Sandu needs our help."
Quinn does not go past Sandu and stays outside of the stable.
He whispers to the half orc, "I will open up with a volley and get it's attention. Get ready to supprise and flank it."
Stealth Roll:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24 If needed
Perception Roll:1d20 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 23 If needed
Init Roll:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 So GM can have it when needed.
Quinn waits until Sandu is in position.
|Earl J V Caromarc|
|Dr. Hareton Grey|
Unfortunately, the Nightmare has very keen senses. It hears the pad of Quinn's foot step down on the straw, hears the boot of the wizard crunch a small twig.
It's ears twitch, and it snorts, looking in your direction!
Ianez - 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
La Siréene - 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19
Quinn - 18
Caromarc (MM, Elspeth) - 6
Sandru - tbd
Blackacre - tbd
Horse - 10
Nightmare - 17
So no suprise round. :-( Sending my Flurry or arrows.
Quinn smiles as he hears Sandu's statement and is excited about using his new bow feature....Fulgur. He launches a flurry of arrows, 3 in total.
Flurry Attack rolls
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
1d8 + 5 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 5 + (3) = 13
1d8 + 5 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 5 + (2) = 12
1d8 + 5 + 1d6 ⇒ (8) + 5 + (1) = 14
Quick FYI: Damage rolls have significantly increase due to obtaining weapon specialization at 6th level and adding lightning; +1 weapon, +2 from comp bow, +2 weapon specialiation.
La Siréene walks through the rain, next to Quinn, observing the Nightmare. First hell mutts, now hell mares. Huh. Not knowing the power or capability of the creature, La Siréene hestitates, waiting for an oppertunity to present itself.
Move action: 40ft move from 29AC to 29AK. Standard Action: readied action to cast.
Sorry Blackacre's been lost - I rely on my "campaigns" page for when new posts have been made, and it hasn't notified me of new Gameplay posts since Thursday!
initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Seeing his comrades prepare for combat, Blackacre draws his crackling sword and moves to the front of the main group (AJ27).
Once he reaches the stable door, Blackacre looks over the nightmarish creature confronting them.
knowledge(planes): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out and his face is a mask of confusion.
That's a, a, ... damn! What is that thing?
The monk's arrows zip from his bow straight towards the otherworldly, fiery opponent. One hits and digs its sharp point in its flank.
The Nightmare takes 13 damage.
The creature levitates into the air. The Palomino thrashes and kicks at it, but misses. The monster glides over to where some of your party stands and blows a cone of thick, acrid smoke.
Sandru, La Siréene, and Quinn must each make a Fortitude save. The smoke acts as obscuring mist for the purposes of concealment.
The beast lunges at Caromarc and takes a chomp at him!
Caromarc, take 5 damage.
It is Blackacre's turn.
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
Hidding under cover of smoke? Not for long.
La Siréene sees her opportunity and acts immediately, casting the spell that will outline the shape of the hell mare and make it a clear target.
La Siréene uses her readied action to cast Faerie Fire targeting the Nightmare
Blackacre scampers around the beast, his crackling sword in hand, taking care not to stray too close to the fire and blackness until he is in position (move action to AM25).
We shall have justice for those you have slain! (swift action to judge the nightmare [justice, +1 to attack rolls])
He takes his blade in both hands, brings it above his head and strikes down upon the beast with great vengeance and furious anger (power attack).
attack: 1d20 + 9 + 1 + 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 9 + 1 + 4 - 2 + 1 = 20
damage: 1d10 + 1 + 6 + 6 + 1d6 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 1 + 6 + 6 + (6) + (5) = 34
Sure hope that 20 is enough to hit :)
Fortitude: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21, +4 if Endurance feat helps... Suffocation.
The copper reacted well. More obfuscation... Caramarc likes the big words. But, Blackacre positions himself nicely, nearly breaking the beast and the girl paints the target... Can I deliver?
Attack Cutlass: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (3) + 17 = 20
Damage Cutlass: 1d6 + 2d6 + 7 ⇒ (3) + (3, 5) + 7 = 18
Bringing my fingers to my lips, I whistle... Trying to have the Palamino withdraw. Come, heel.
Handle Animal, move action: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Sandru's cutlass hits hard, but is unable to break the supernatural toughness of the fiery black horse.
The palomino horse hears Sandru whistle, but unfortunately misunderstands the command. Startled by its new attacker, it makes a break for it. The second Nightmare rears up and comes down on it with its flaming hooves.
The horse takes 3 damage, plus an additional 3 fire damage.
It is Ianez's turn.
Ianez closes with the newer intruder, his glamered coat rippling aside as he draws his sword and slashes across at the beast. The canny creature sidesteps the blow, though, and the archaeologist's sword kisses only the smoky air.
To hit: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 2 = 14
Elspeth dives deeper into the ground, getting ready to put her ambush-predator pounce into action
Readying a Charge on N2 if it comes within 80ft of Elspeth. in order to save time: hit = 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11 touch attack for 1d6 ⇒ 5 strength damage
My guess is it will go for us or the Palomino and be met by the writhing but inaccurate tentacles of Elspeth. Elspeth can take some cover in the ground, but I think she might take an AoO for it.