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Pool of Radiance

Game Master Tarloc Doom

An ancient evil has erupted in the far reaches of the Moonsea the town of Phlan has fallen it is up to Foreign adventures to decide the fate of all of the Moonsea...


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ALL OF THEM!!! Goblin 20 Grandmaster DM/10 Charismatic Salesman/10 College Professer/4 Average Lad/6 King

It has been many years since the city of Phlan was a small but growing city on the shores of the great MoonSea. Trade sailed into to Phlan, past the fortress of Sokal Keep where the watch scanned the sea for pirates, into the small harbor at the mouth of the Stojanow River. Galleys, pinks, cogs, and schooners came from the merchants to the south, braving the sea to this small northern port. Townsmen offloaded pungent spices, dark woods, reptilian leathers, filmy cloth, gnarled barks, hammered steel, veined marbles—the riches of the southern shores. From the north came thickbearded men—men of the bitter plains, granite mountains, and icy swamps beyond, leading caravans burdened with silky furs, heavy wools, rare ores, straight-beamed woods, and the ivories of beasts longforgotten in lands further south. Slowly, with patience and endurance, the caravans plodded to Phlan meeting others, friends in the dwarves of the Dragonspine and elves of the Quivering Forest, foes in the orcs who came from the Tweenhill gap or the reptilian race of the swamps. In Phlan northman and southerner met, haggling, cheating, lying and drinking. Phlan was well on its way to becoming a prosperous trading town. And then the dragons and their armies came. At first the men of distant villages stopped trekking to Phlan. No trader came back with tales of new discoveries. The distant outposts slowly disappeared. Then refugees began to arrive. At first they were solitary survivors straggling in to lose themselves in the maze of the slums. Then families arrived perched on plodding wagons. They told stories of neighboring villages set to the torch, the humans slaughtered—or worse. Trade dropped off. Fewer caravans arrived. Fewer ships came to collect the scanty cargoes. The merchants were concerned. Scouts were sent. They returned telling of hordes of orcs, goblins, ogres, and giants doing what they had never done before— marching as armies with order and discipline. It was the fear of their commanders, fearsome dragons, that held them together. Towns closer and closer to Phlan fell, the stream of refugees increased. Cautious merchants packed their goods and left. Greedy merchants hurriedly amassed fortunes from the frightened people while keeping one eye always on the door. The Council fretted and fussed. Some wanted appeasement, some favored an army, and still others poured money into the walls of Phlan. But no strategy was ever agreed upon. When the armies finally came, Phlan was simply not prepared. For a day the Council watched the lines drawn up outside the walls—ranks of leering, skull-painted beasts dragging obscene machines of war. They could not surrender, for they knew there would be no mercy from these cohorts. Valiantly, but futilely, they mustered their men. Their spearmen were ready to meet the charge. From the start of the attack, the humans were defeated. They were out-numbered, out-fought and outgeneralled. The first wave struck from the air—wheeling flights of dragons after dragons swept over the rooftops, setting ablaze vast portions of the city. As the flames licked over the chimneys, the attackers charged into the trapped militia. The Battle of Phlan was a massacre. Over the years, however, the dragon armies have flowed and ebbed, leaving behind pockets of despair and desolation. These isolated domains cannot withstand the unstoppable flood of human dominance. Men have returned north of the MoonSea and are determined to reclaim their lost homes. Such is the case in Phlan. Although the city proper—its districts and its fortresses—are still held by the twisted offspring of the original conquerors, good men have managed to gain a foothold in the ruined city. Fired by the feelings of destiny and progress, they have set their sights on reclaiming all of Phlan and restoring it to its former glory. To this end, they are backed by a new Council, calling upon outlander heros to reclaim the ruins of Phlan...

You are all boarded on a large ship from Melsmar headed to the Ruins of Phlan to aid in the reclamation of the ruined city. The trip is to take several weeks to reach New Phlan you hope you will not be late for the councils speach. There are at least 18 foriegn adventurers aboard the ship (including yourselves) many brag of the deeds they are to preform and the riches they will find in the ruins of Phlan some speak of rumors of the town say it was an evil spirit that claimed the town ot that there was a traitor among the council whether anything they say is true or not one thing is for certain it is going to be a long few weeks that is for sure...

People of note aboard the ship:
Yourselves obviously
Captain Brenack: He is a tall muscly man and captain of this ship he is not very talkative but it is sure that he has a few good stories in there.
Fealix: A strange man also one of the adventurers headed to Phlan he keeps mostly to himself but does seem to know quite a lot about the ruined town he isn't very friendly but does have a soft spot for cats.
Ships cook Flan: A very energetic joyful man he takes well to his craft he is very talkative and friendly.
First mate Beck: The hardy dwarf and first mate of the ship is always in a great mood and is quite jolly all the time.

The weather is gloriously sunny, and the crew are off duty while the Captain and First Mate consult about their course with the navigator. Most of the inhabitants of the ship are out on the deck, enjoying the glorious sunshine overhead as the anchored ship drifts lazily, pushed by the gentle waves the light breeze carries with it the scent of Flans next gourmand meal.

Feel free to begin RPing amongst yourselves and crew. No dice rolls yet though please, just actions and speech.


Male Half-Elven Bard 1

Melismar stands as close to the prow of the ship as he can manage, savouring the tang of the salt air. His longish hair is not blowing in the wind quite as raffishly as he would like, the constant assault of briny atmosphere having begun to fashion his free-flowing locks into so many rats' tails, but he made no such concession with the rest of his toilette, and was still wearing some of his gaudier clothes. The initial biting mocking tone of crew mates, had quickly transposed to a readier friendly joshing once he'd entertained them for a couple of evenings. Even Fealix had smiled and joined in with the chorus of Cockle the Cross-eyed Cat and the Courtesan, though the other sailors mimed horrendous aural assault whilst he was a-singing, but it was all part of the fun. Today felt like a good day, and finally he had a feeling he might get through today without throwing up. He was even becoming convinced he'd found his sea legs, and was now walking in that bow-legged way some of the sailors did, without looking like he was drunk. As so often, he appeared to be the first of the passengers above deck. He turned his attention back to the rising sun. Out here, with no mountains to delay it, it must be awfully early still. He'd not heard a bell though, so had no idea what the time was. Looks like it's going to be another glorious day, and slowly over time the rest of the crew and travellers join him.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

I had woken with the dawn, a creature of habit. The hammock provided down below was not nearly long enough, and a nice bit of stretching later, I headed to the galley. Flan was as nice as always, and offered up some of the ship's biscuits for an easy, light breakfast. I normally am pretty hesitant to talk, but making friends with the cook seemed like a good move.

Sated, I climbed up the ladder and on to the main deck. Looking around, I saw few people. The crew had finished their work, or the night's watch had done it for them, and few were out. The captain, first mate, and another high ranking crewman who I did not recognize were talking, leaning over maps.

There seemed to be room to move on the back of the boat, and the morning meant completing some of the sword forms I knew, albeit without the sword. It would be good to get my body moving, and without the others, fewer odd looks and glances. Elves get odd looks anyway, and I was used to it, but it was still nice to avoid them.

Sweating after the hard work, I noticed that most of the travelers were on the deck. A good time to stop. I walked over to the side of the boat, and turned around, watching everyone else mill around.


Male Human Summoner 1

The nightmare's had came again last night. He knew it to be a nightmare, even within it's realm, but that didn't change anything. For the nightmare had once been real, only to be relived when he slept. And once again, with one last gaze as his beloved had been taken, he awoke.

Syalavel woke from his dream, much practice giving him the strength to no longer awake screaming. Shaking off it's after-effects, he took stock of his surroundings. He quickly remembered, he was aboard a ship, returing to Phlan. He had been there once or twice in his childhood, but these were short trips. He didn't recall much of the city.

Sylavel ascended to the ship's deck. He doubted the usefulness of his skills on such a voyage, magical and mundane, but staying below decks was not comforting. He had at least learned where not to be after a few stern words from the sailors.

Anna...

Sylavel refused to allow his mind to wander. Finding a quiet spot on the deck, he sits and goes over the focusing exercises he had been taught to clear his mind. He had proven to not be very good at it, but he was determined to get them down.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Blythe wakes, and crawls from her hammock. With pained effort, she makes her way to the deck.

She sidles up to Oropher, Melismar and Sylavel, and leans heavily on the railing. "Who turned the sun on? Gods it's too bright." She pulls out a flask and takes a swig, then proffers it to the men. "Hair of the worg that bit ya'..."


Male Halfling Empty Handed Monk

Dric walks up to the deck and stretches before going about the other adventuring crews and challenging them to contests of strength. Who would have though the short little halfling could be so loud and boastful about his strength.?


Male Half-Elven Bard 1
Blythe Astor wrote:
She pulls out a flask and takes a swig, then proffers it to the men. "Hair of the worg that bit ya'..."

"Actually," says Melismar, kindly but firmly rejecting the offer, "I wasn't bitten last night. Not even a small nip, indeed."


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

Krokolam stumbles up the stairs, having checked on his pack donkey, his guard dog, his pig and his whoplertinger down below. A tiny dog with perked butterfly like ears follows him, tail wagging.

I'm sure you like this much better than me, well at least you're leaving the ship's cat alone now. the gnome grumbles as he adjusts his helmet. Like any of his amour, it's made of wood. Krokolam likes wood, because he can modify and replace it with ease. His helmet currently was painted in a garish patchwork of pink, blue and black.

"I don't care for moving ships in the least, too easy to get... urrppp. He stops and stumbles to a nearby bucket.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Suit yourself. Gods, I hate the sea. Good thing I've got moonshine, I think the Moon Sea means to kill me. She nods at Krokolam. I'm sure he wouldn't mind a steep distraction right now.


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

The gnome looks up. "Don't mind if I do" He says, holding his hand out for some of the moonshine. " Though I usually do carry my own brews about." The Cavalier grins at Blythe.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

The young woman approached offering some sort of cheap looking alcohol.

Sorry miss. I dont usually drink, especially not this early. And as I said this, the gnome stumbles over to a bucket and wretches into it. And I think he might benefit from somewhat less. It might let him keep his stomach next time.

I looked up and saw that the sun was nowhere near half-past its travel across the sky. Time to be social, I guess.

What brings out you all on this mission to some far off city? A young woman typically is not standard accompaniment. But as odd as you are, pardon me, but a gnome makes it even stranger.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Look at the elf, calling the giant an ogre. Blythe chuckles and takes another pull off her flask, then pockets it.
She breathes the sea air in deeply. No doubt you all have some just cause to fight for, some quest to accomplish, some monster to slay, some right to wrong, some treasure to acquire. She pushes her dirty blond, almost dread-locked hair out of her face. She is relatively small, with a dimple on her chin, and bright green eyes.


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

"Not me!" Squeaks Krokolam. "Krokolam the Cavalier at your service, not-so humble priest of Cayden Cailean." He reaches for his own flask and takes a swig. "I came because it would be interesting, and quite frankly I was getting a tad bored back home. Though now I am regretting coming along, I don't think my stomach cares for boats. Though this is quite the adventure, isn't it?" The gnome's eyes are dancing. "So Hoppinfly and I decided to some along with you bigger folk. I only met Hoppinfly a few months ago, he's quite the most amazing creature. Like a rabbit but bigger, and with fangs and wings, oh and horns too." The gnome talks very quickly, jumping from topic to topic without much warning.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

Forgive me my presumption, Master Krokolam. This... Hoppinfly... you mentioned seems like quite the creature. I would be honored to meet him sometime. As for boats, I fear I have been lucky in how I handle the motion, but I sympathize with your condition.

It was hard to take the diminutive little cavalier very seriously. I found myself treating him as a curiosity. It was especially hard to keep up with his fast speech. Still, give him the benefit of the doubt. Fate might cause us to end up together.

As to the mysterious woman, she was an entirely different puzzle. Miss... Astor, I think. It seems you have me dead to rights. Something like what you've said, a cause to fight and quest to accomplish. But you've done what my father calls avoiding. If it isnt treasure, or a higher purpose, what might prompt you to come and risk your life to help others? Or is it curiosity? I nod at the gnome.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

"Knight of the philanthropic order, huh? Order of the bleeding hearts?" She smiles cynically, shaking her head. She turns to the ocean. "Lot of bloody good it will do this world."
The wind howls for a moment, tugging her dread-locks. "How long till this raft makes port?"


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

"Not quite, I spread the word of my god around, in the best way possible. With ale and bar fights, and wine, oh and doing whatever I please. It's quite a wonderful life to have." He smiles up at her. "I think this world would be a better place if everyone. I mean everyone stopped, sat down and shared a nice big cold ale. I mean among the worshipers of my god there's nothing that cannot be settled by a rousing barfight." He grinned lopsidedly at Blythe and held up a wineskin to her. "Care for some?"


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

She looks down at the gnome, and chuckles. "Not really put off by much, are you?"

Silver Crusade

Female Awakened, Anthropomorphic saber toothed snow leopard Starving Collage Student Level 1

"Not really. My god didn't give up, even when he was drunk and taking the test of the Starstone. Why should I let anything get me down?" He shook the wineskin at her, grinning.


Male Half-Elven Bard 1

Melismar reaches down to see whether Krokolam's pet is friendly, proposing to rub him between his ears.

Silver Crusade

Female Awakened, Anthropomorphic saber toothed snow leopard Starving Collage Student Level 1

Here's what he looks like, I'm using the term "butterfly dog" as to avoid real life french words, words that likely don't exist in this world

The tri colour butterfly dog wags his tail and sits up, waving his paws in the air. Apparently he's very friendly, it only takes him moments to roll over and expose his belly, begging for a rub.

"That's Cycil, he's the friendliest pup you would ever know." the gnome laughs. "Ask any lady dog's he's met and they'll tell you the same."


Male Half-Elven Bard 1

"OozacoochiepoochieCycilyesyouareoozielikesthatdoesntchooyesyoudoo," says Melismar, rubbing the dog's tummy vigourously.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Blythe rolls her eyes. "Get a room, you two." But a slight smile teases the corner of her mouth as she takes the wineskin and pulls on it. "A white wine? I would have thought you red, but this is quite good."


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

I gave up trying to pry information out of the woman. It would come out in time, maybe. In my somewhat limited experience, this meant she had something to hide, and was doing her best to put people off before it came out. The ribbing seemed good natured anyway.

It is quite the dog. On the other hand, I doubt the bard has ever met anyone he didnt like. You're quite the singer. Thank you for continuing to entertain us all each night.

It was true, the bard was good. I looked around some more, enjoying the sunshine and light spray from waves hitting the side of the boat. My hair was getting pretty salty, and would need a good washing. The shortage of fresh water on the boat meant this would have to wait. For the first time I noticed a man sitting cross legged on the other side of the boat, lost in thought. More my speed, atleast this one values his own inner peace. I waited until he looked over and caught his eye and nodded.


Male Human Summoner 1

Focus the mind. Clear it of all thoughts. Focus on a single point and push aside all distraction. Focus the mind. Clear it of all thoughts. Focus on a single point and push aside all distraction. Focus the mind. Clear it of all thoughts. Focus on a single point and push aside all distractions.

As Sylavel's mind focused, the point in which he focused became form, of a woman's face. He quickly cleared his mind again, coming out of his focusing trance.

It's becoming harder to focus. It must be because I'm getting closer.

Sylavel returned his thoughts to the world and took in his surroundings. Judging by the sun, he had not been at it for as long as he had hoped.

His wandering gaze caught that of an elf, a warrior by his dress. He returned the elf's nod, and got up to go over and make conversation. It had been awhie since he had contact with others outside of his teacher, aside from the few interviews he had to make to get to this point. A little social activity might even help clear his head.

Well met, friend. And how are you enjoying this journey?


Male Half-Elven Bard 1

Melismar gives the lofty elf a gracious, and it has to be said, excessively theatrical bow. Had he a cap with a feather in it, it almost certainly would have been waved. He touches his forehead as though it were there, anyhow. "It is my pleasure to entertain you and the crew. Equally, I have to confess a certain joy at receiving compliments too." He grins broadly, basking in the adulation -- this was the life he was born for.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

The young man approached, seeming to have finished with his meditation. I am doing well. Unlike many of our compatriots, it seems I havent been hit as hard by the sickness. How was your meditation? Clear the mind? While not my cup of tea, I can understand the draw of using it to focus. I prefer exercise personally.

I turned back to the bard. Well, the compliments are given in truth. What brings you here? Must be easier to sing for coin in a larger city.


Male Half-Elven Bard 1
Oropher Helyan wrote:
I turned back to the bard. Well, the compliments are given in truth. What brings you here? Must be easier to sing for coin in a larger city.

"Oh easier, indeed, much easier. But I am not after a life of ease. Nor, strange to tell, am I particularly after coin, so long as I have enough to get by. I seek knowledge and adventure, fame and fortune -- though this latter, as I say, more in the sense of luck than monetary gain. I wish to see the world, the very corners of civilization, and beyond!"


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

At the baby talk the little dog just looks at the bard as if he were stupid, then barks a few times. "I am not translating that. Krokolam said, rolling his eyes. Turning to Blythe he grinned. "I've got red too if you want, and rose, and ale, and something called sake that a Tian sold to me."

"Yeah, he's something else. I like animals, always got something interesting to say. the gnome chuckled, his eyes bright. He looked up at the newcomer. "Oh, aside from the sickness. I am enjoying myself just fine. He said, then paused considering an earlier question. " Well, he's down in the hold. I suppose I could bring him up here. Though, the deckhands and the captain may throw a fit over it..."


Male Halfling Empty Handed Monk

"Dogs with translators, people who can't handle a bit of drink, and people who can't keep their stomach from acting up, fine lot of adventurers this boat has." Dric says as he walks over from an arm wrestling victory. "Some of those guys can't even get me to work up a sweat."


Male Human Summoner 1

To the elf My meditations were as fruitful as ever. Thank you for the concern. The name's Sylavel. And yours?

To the halfing Mayhaps you would find better challenge in one of your fellow Dwarves.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

Oropher Helyan, or just Oro for short. I seem to be asking what everyone's motivation is for coming along, so... err... what brings you along on this voyage?

Sylavel has something different about him that I cant place. Something just feels... wrong is not the right word. Weird, perhaps. Still, he seems nice enough, and in control of his inner self, an unusual trait for a man. The halfling who rumbled over seemed especially full of himself.


ALL OF THEM!!! Goblin 20 Grandmaster DM/10 Charismatic Salesman/10 College Professer/4 Average Lad/6 King

As you chat you hear a familiar bell from below deck from Flans kitchen supper you think to yourself as the deck crew and other adventurers begin to head below deck for the meal.


Male Human Summoner 1

For now, it would seem dinner. Perhaps we could continue this discussion over what passes for a meal on this ship? Sylavel begins to head below deck.


Male Half- Elf Paladin 1

sorry for the delay in posting

Finally emerging from his bunk after spending the last few days fighting a losing battle with motion sickness Vaniel makes his way to grab a bit of biscuit and some water to wash it down. As he enters the galley Vaniel's face turns a ghastly shade of green before he quickly exits and makes his way back up deck. After calming his wretching stomache Vaniel makes his return and mumbles " So much for being a champion of Torm. Can't even keep water down" turning to the nearest crewman, the half elf asks in a weak voice "how long till we're off this blasted boat?" After getting his answer the silver haired warrior, by all appearances, just groans and rubs his beary eyes wishing the trip was through


male Human Producer 3 director 2

Blythe saunters below-decks. "I here you, shiny. Here..." She hands the elf her flask. "I'm sure a torn champion can keep down mead. It's cherry-honey." She sits and eats the breakfast Flan offers. "We should be in New Phlan soon."


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

Oh boy, I hope it's something new. The gnome follows the rest downstairs. "Now boy, no begging at the table.

The dog, of course, ignores him and begs for scraps.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Blythe gives the dog scraps from her bowl.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

The bell for lunch was well timed. I reached behind me, untied the strap of leather holding my hair, and then retied it to get all the little strands that had fallen out. As I walked at the back of the pack of adventurers, I couldnt help but wonder as to how much longer we'd be on the boat. The fact that we were anchored here, instead of moving on, had me annoyed.

Walking downstairs, I sat at the table next to the others. The woman, Blythe, seemed to be doing her best to annoy the little gnome by feeding its dog. It seemed to be good sport, and she had a wicked smirk on her face to show how much she was enjoying it.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a half-breed wearing the colors and sigil of Torm sitting alone, looking a little green. Interesting to find another follower of the Loyal Fury here. An ally in the future, perhaps. Well, maybe once he didnt spend his time over a bucket.


ALL OF THEM!!! Goblin 20 Grandmaster DM/10 Charismatic Salesman/10 College Professer/4 Average Lad/6 King

Once everyone is seated several cooks bring you each a bowl containing some sort of fancy soup along with a plate of roasted rodent. It is best that you do not ask what you are eating. Aside from being disgusting the cooked rodent is surprisingly tasty with quite a bit of spice to it. You hear a sort of whelp from one of the adventurers seated at the large table he quickly jumps out of his seat and runs up deck you hear another who was seated beside him dryly comment "Guess he's never 'ad Flan soup's before." he then bursts into laughter. Maybe it is best not to have the soup unless your up for it.

For those who try the soup please roll will save. With your days on the ship you have found that everything Flan cooks is spicy.


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

Upon hearing the yelp Krokolam decides its better not touch the soup, however he does gulp down the rodent. He pauses, and wonders if he can weedel some bones from the cook.


Male Elf Fighter - Level 1

The food's been spicy, but tolerable. Its worth a shot.

I go ahead and take a spoonful.

dice:

Will=1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Fortitude:
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10

Blythe digs in. "Don't complain, unless you want me cooking. This is pretty tasty."


Male Half-Elven Bard 1

Mel's Will Save:
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

Mel hopes for the best as he sups a spoon of the soup, remembering to take it from the side furthest away from him, in case of spillage. Soup on a ship! Thanks heavens it was calm today.


Male Halfling Empty Handed Monk

Will Save:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Dric eats the soup with gusto, loving the spicy flavors.

"This is pretty good soup. Doesn't need a thing."


ALL OF THEM!!! Goblin 20 Grandmaster DM/10 Charismatic Salesman/10 College Professer/4 Average Lad/6 King

Melismar and Oropher: This is by far the spiciest food you have ever had you can hardly taste anything. It burns in your mouth you feel sick and it is to strong for your stomach to take you try to hold in your tears and not to scream in "pain" you grab your water and gulp it down it does little to satisfy the burn feeling you have the urge to run around or swim and just generally use up energy you cannot bear to have any more of that "soup" or whatever it is.

Dric: You brave the soup it's spice is strong but unlike the other's you manage to stomach it it has a unique flavor that is mostly masked by the strength of the spice your eyes start to tear up a bit but you hold it back and actually mange to finish the bowl everyone looks to you astonished that you finished a whole bowl.

Bythe Will save not fort for soup if yer eatin.


Male Halfling Empty Handed Monk

"What, haven't you guys seen someone eat fire before?" Dric asks when he notices everyone looking at him.


HP 15/29 | DEFENSE 18; Defense 16 until I drop an opponent; FF 13; Tch 17; DR 1/armor; Perception +8; Init +5; FRW 2/9/3

Oops, sorry about that. Will save 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12


Male Gnome Cavalier 1

Seeing others eat, Krokolam decides to take a taste of the soup.

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13


ALL OF THEM!!! Goblin 20 Grandmaster DM/10 Charismatic Salesman/10 College Professer/4 Average Lad/6 King

Blythe and Krokolam:This is by far the spiciest food you have ever had you can hardly taste anything. It burns in your mouth you feel sick and it is to strong for your stomach to take you try to hold in your tears and not to scream in "pain" you grab your water and gulp it down it does little to satisfy the burn feeling you have the urge to run around or swim and just generally use up energy you cannot bear to have any more of that "soup" or whatever it is perhaps it wasn't the greatest idea to try it.

btw great RPing everyone +100 xp each keep it up!


Male Human Summoner 1

Sylavel, at first not wanting to tempt fate, finally gives in.

How bad can it actually be?

Will Save:
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

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