|Diu Ligno Spes|
Seeing the damage cause by his compatriots, Spes jumps forward and sprays the mess of goblins with a good helping of their favorite element. Fire
Burning hands as many of the little munchkins as possible while still avoiding Will.
I figure I wont hit more than 4 but maybe up to if I'm lucky (or a tad crazy)
1d4 ⇒ 3
1d4 ⇒ 1
1d4 ⇒ 4
1d4 ⇒ 3
considering there are only three...lets remove the 1d4 ⇒ 3 roll
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Two of the goblins duck on taking minor scorching. The one with the bolt in the leg, took the full brunt.
One goblin charges Spes with a dogsllicer
1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 2 = 8
Another charges Blamo with a short sword
1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 2 = 13
The other swings a club at William
1d20 ⇒ 7
William responds with a cut to the goblin facing him
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 for 1d6 ⇒ 2
|Diu Ligno Spes|
Blamo gleefully cackles, seeing fire erupt from Spes' hands. He revels in the moment before quickly moving out of the way of the charging goblin. He narrowly gets nicked, but his armor fulfills its purpose in protecting him.
He snarls at the offending party and moves a few steps away to reload his crossbow.
Five-foot step back, reload for move action.
He shoots the shortsword-wielding goblin at close range.
MW Light Crossbow 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 for 1d6 ⇒ 5
Blamo's goblin's head snaps back and it falls.
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21 for 1d6 ⇒ 3
William puts a deep slash across the chest of his goblin.
1d20 ⇒ 3 His goblin retorts with another miss.
From far away in the distance a goblin launches an arrow at Spes before turning to kick a downed Red Tunic.
1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 3 - 2 = 9
Just as our heroes are prepared to renew the attack the large orc charges into William swinging his great axe.
1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 5 + 2 = 22 for 1d12 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Ouch. That leaves Will with 1 HP. Ruuun!
Blamo snarls at the orc. "Hey! That tasty mine, grassbiter!"
The goblin reloads his crossbow and fires it at the orc.
MW Light Crossbow 1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 - 4 = 17 for 1d6 ⇒ 2
(-4 for firing into melee with friendly)
Yipes! Spes hops around, utterly terrified. Almost by reflex he sprays fire out of his hands again catching the Goblin and the orc.
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
The Goblin dodges most of it but the orc takes it in the face.
1d4 ⇒ 4
1d4 ⇒ 1
Will takes a quick step backwards and digs in his pouch for a potion (I think he has one)
The Orc is having none of it, he and the goblin step forward to end Will's existence
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18 for 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
1d20 ⇒ 9
Blamo yells incoherent swears in goblin at the orc and reloads and shoots his crossbow at the orc again.
MW Light Crossbow 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11 for 1d6 ⇒ 1
I'm assuming that's William gone unconscious. No more -4 melee since he's not threatening.
|Diu Ligno Spes|
So this will be highly unconventional
Seeing the massive swings of the orc, and the poor bloody William under foot, Spes decides to take a risk to save the poor human. Whiping out his unnaturally long tongue. Spes slathers a bit of saliva across the larger wounds of bloody William.
So, This will be a little random and a tad gross, I'm going to touch Will with my tongue as a standard action as per my feat Agile Tongue and use the trait Sacred Touch, to stabilize him. The nice thing about the tongue bit is that I can be 10 feet away and do it.
1d20 ⇒ 20
The entire battlefield seems to pause as Spes's tongue slathers all over William. robbing Mini of his first kill ever!
There is a collective EEEWWWWWWW! from every direction.
The Goblin turns to club Spes, and smashes it right down onto his tongue
1d20 ⇒ 16 for 1d4 ⇒ 2
The orc turns to the frustrating goblin that has been shooting at him and moves to chop him in half. Walking right by Spes. yes it provokes
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11 for 1d12 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
The cut swings wide, as the orc is still confused by a goblin fighting against him.
"Hey, no fair! I wanted to taste him first!" Blamo yells at Spes, upset.
He is distracted when the orc swings at him but easily steps out of the way. The goblin blows a raspberry at the orc as he puts away his crossbow. "Pthbbbbb!"
Move action to sheath weapon.
He sticks his hand in his pack to retrieve something when he's suddenly distracted by the shiny thing another goblin is carrying.
Advantageous Distraction: +2 AC until next turn
"Shinyyyy." Blamo moves towards the shiny, removing his hand from the pack. He's already grabbed ahold of something and takes out a . . . torch?
Move action towards the goblin carrying the shiny while taking out torch. Provokes AoO.
Spes moves to the goblin and clubs it with his cane 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
The Goblin ducks it.
The Goblin with the shiny, and flashing thing, It looks like a purple gem about the size of a basketball gets closer to our heroes and their heroic combat. Just then the catman leaps, tackling the goblin.
The gem flies up into the air, almost in slow motion.
Then it crashes to the earth and explodes in a huge flash of light and sound and, for those in the immediate vicinity, pure power.
When everyone's eyes return to normal everyone is smoking and staring at each other, in a shallow crater. All around their are signs of utter devastation, body parts everywhere. It would appear that everyone not within 15 feet of the blast center has been obliterated. There is not a single Red Tunic other than our heroes remaining. The orc and two goblins race off, before anyone has time to think.
In the center of the crater is a small glowing mass, which Blamo races for. Shiny!
Fwoosh! It explodes in another pulse of energy. Our heroes collapse into a deep, and unpleasant sleep.
WELCOME TO LEVEL 1 AND MYTHIC TIER 1
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Must stop the goblin. Where did everyone else go? What is that purple gem, anyway? It can't be good. Wait - he's running toward that goblin - in the red tunic? Did he steal that from a trainee? He must be trying to give the gem to him! And there's an orc and another goblin! Must stop him!
I lunge as he slows, looking at the one in the red tunic, and I grab at the gem, but I miss. My weight drives the goblin into the ground, but I don't get a grip on him and we roll apart. We watch as the gem flies through the air. The goblin giggles in that insane way that's become this afternoon's song. I press my face to the ground - the grass tickles my whiskers - and I cover my head with my hands.
Suddenly everything is bright, even through my closed eyes. And hot. So very hot. I'm on fire! I roll over onto my back, away from the goblin, to put out the fire. I open my eyes and the first thing I see after the brightness fades is the big cloud rising. Everything is moving so slowly. I get to my feet - I must catch that goblin! There's a crater - that wasn't there a moment ago - and the goblin in the stolen tunic is running into it. The other goblin - and the orc and another goblin - are running the other way. There's a boy bleeding badly on the ground - he must be the one the goblin... no, he's wearing his tunic. I'm so tired. Where is he going?
I go to the edge of the crater. There's something bright in the bottom, like the blacksmith's forge, but it's pulsing. Bright and dim. Bright and dim. It's getting brighter. Suddenly my hearing comes back - I didn't realize it was gone - and there is so much noise. But above it all is a THRUM - THRUM - THRUM. I turn to run, but my foot slips and I fall backward into the crater. The scraping on my burned back hurts. Looking upside down at the forgelight, I see the goblin, huge smile on his face, reaching out.
A wave of light and sounds comes off of the brightness. It washes over the goblin and he starts to fall as his eyes roll back. Everything is moving so slowly. This is what it is like to die? The light reaches me and I'm burning again. Father was right - I should have stayed in the village.
I open my eyes, and I'm in the village. I can hear the kits playing in the distance, but there is no one by the well. Unusual - if the kits are out and about, there's always at least one dam at the well watching, pretending to draw water. I can't see anyone anywhere.
I walk down the road between the houses, looking for the kits. Looking for anyone. I come to my house - my parent's house - where it should be... but it's not there. The grass is lush and beautiful and undisturbed. It doesn't look like there has ever been a house here. The kits aren't playing anymore - they are screaming. Danger! I run around the corner, sure that's where they are, but it's not them. It's a big goblin - the one with the purple gem, but nearly as tall as I am. He's making the sound of the kits with his enormous mouth, grinning with more teeth than any three cats would need.
He draws back his arm - there's the gem, in his hand - and it looks like he's throwing it at me this time, so I run at him. He throws and it bursts into flame. Before I can dodge, it hits me, but it passes right through my chest - I feel the impact slightly, but no pain. Then I'm right in his face - he looks puzzled - and I rake my claws across his face, his chest, his throat. One, two, three times in an eyeblink. He falls back, the light fading from his eyes as I lean back and roar in triumph.
I open my eyes, and I'm in the village. I hear the kits, but I know it's not real. There's no one at the well. I run down the road this time, past the empty space where my house should be, and around the corner. It's the goblin again, grinning. There's the gem. He's throwing it again, but this time it turns into a ball of ice. It passes through me, too. One, two, three. The goblin falls and I roar.
I'm in the empty village again. The goblin stands at the end of the road, grinning. He has two gems this time. As I start running, he throws again. The gem turns into a ball of lightning, but it passes through me. He looks worried. I hear myself purring as I sprint. The second gem is thrown. This one blurs and I hear the sound of thunder getting louder as it gets closer. I don't even feel it. One, two, three.
I'm by the well this time. My house should be over there, but I know it's not. I don't even look. The goblin is there, too, but he's not grinning. In his hand he's holding a viscous green ball of something - it drips from his hand - and I feel a shudder of fear. I charged and he throws and turns to run. When it hits, the pain is so intense, I fall to my knees. It's eating away at me. He mistakes my yowl of pain for a cry of triumph and redoubles his speed. I will live. I will live. I will live!
The catfolk, lying on his side to allow his wounded back to heal, suddenly sits up. The tent is dimly-lit, but his eyes adjust well. There are four cots. It smells like a sick ward and he's in pain. But who are these three?
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Thou, Empedocles, didst purify thy body with the Living Flame,
and Fire didst thou drink out from Immortal Craters.
What was Being?
In the first moment, he knew himself and not himself. He is himself his own world and not his own world. His name was Blamo and that realization was the most simple and the most complicated thing. He woke in a deep Crater and there were none with him. Only he and the Crater and the Fire within him and the Fire within the Crater.
It was the most beautiful thing in the world.
To keep fire in a glasse, that whilest the glasse is shut will not burne, but as soone as it it opened will be inflamed.
There was a Voice not his. It was the only sound for the Fire was silent and the Crater was silent and he was silent in turn. It echoed in the Crater and the place where the Crater was, which was Nowhere at all. The Voice had nothing to distinguish itself. Was it ever truly Voice? Perhaps it was just Words that have had enough of their tattered pages and leapt out into the air, becoming Sound, becoming free.
For it is fire, which kindled will never die,
Dwelling with you, as fire does in houses,
Of which one spark may make more fire this way….
The Words were familiar. He knew these Words, had made acquaintance with them. Why were they here? He did not know, but they were here. This realization was exciting: he did not know!
He knew these Words but not why they were here. Does he know where the Words from? Ah yes, of course, they were from a book. From several books. He knew this and was pleased and set about remembering the books.
Fire is the Agent of Action among the Elements. It is the primary agent of transformation, for it represents the power to impose a self-determining forme.
There it is, Words again! He thought and the Words came. Truly was he mighty for what he thinks, the Voice utters, and what the Voice utters, he hears. He is Thinker, Utterer, Hearer, Thought, Word, Audition; he is the One and yet the All in All.
This was Being.
Fire is the radiante body, the vehicle of the Higher Soule. It is responsible for the intellect, including discursive reason, but also for the Rational Will.
Blamo soon grew bored with Being. Simple Existence was marvelous but dull. His curiosity was roused and he turned Thought to his Self, to the Crater, to the Fire within him and within the Crater.
What was he? What was the Crater? What was Fire?
The fiery substance of the stars is divine, like the Gods, for they too move eternally. The soule is but a spark of the essentiall substance of the stars. Fire in our soules is akin to the Celestiall Fire. It is an Immortal Warmthe. This Secret Fire that is part of the soule, that is life and energy and movement and freedome.
As he was Question, so was he Answer. He thought and he remembered and his Knowledge grew with his remembering. He recalled his experiences, his past, of the struggle to learn how to read, of the struggle to survive to read, and more importantly, he recalled what he had read.
Immediately, the Space around him twisted. It became a hurricane of sensation, of fleeting smells, sounds, and half-formed visions. Knowledge filled the Space and Experience gave it Depth.
The fire that giveth Life and Reality, and beholde, the secret fire burnt at the heart of the world.
Blamo laid undisturbed in the Crater and the Voice went on and the Words were clear. Here was the eye of the hurricane, were nothing touched as all around it raged. Here was the spark, the originator of things, which moved and animated and transformed. Here was the Crater and here was the Fire and here was the Fire within that Fire and he in the center of that Fire, which was hottest.
In the vaste majority, this Secret Fire, or liberating energy of self-consciousness, lies dormante.
Space was a glowing sphere of Light, binding just above or touching the top of his head. He is at the Heart of the world, the Crater, where matter and energy meet and are created. The energy in the Heart moved in a golden reddish stream, held and brilliant, and his body was a shaft, a living flame, a pulse.
The light expanded, in heat, in light, in energy and power.
This Divine Fire is found bothe outside surrounding us and inside us at the center of our being. Therefore, "man is made of portions of the cosmos, and in death like returns to like": the soule goes to heavenly Aithêr, the Celestial Fire, and the body goes to Earth, each returning to its own element.
Space grew and filled. The Crater and the Fire and he remained the same. A pyramid of fire surrounded him, Fire all around him, inside of him. At the base is the Crater in the center, and him in the center of the Crater.
The fire pulsed.
Fire plays a centrall role in the process of Heroization by which a mortall may escape the cycle of rebirth and ascend. When the rivers of fire flow together in the Crater, the Crater becomes a place of Ordeal, where truth and falsity are separated by Fire. One may be immersed in it in order to be reborn.
Space vibrated and the Fire stirred with each vibration, growing brighter. Blamo stirred inside the Fire and became aware of Heat.
He was burning.
Before the soul can ascend through the spheres, it must be purified by Fire. One must descend into Darkness to find the source of Light; one must die in order to be reborn.
Both inward and outward he burned; his insides blazed, hot and sharp, devouring all within him. His skin crackled and popped. He knew not pain but numbness. He knew only Heat and Fire.
He opened his mouth but could not scream, only the Voice and the Words sounding.
Thus heroization occurs through an actual or symbolic death by Fire. This is because Fire is purifying; it burns away the transient and imperfect, thereby freeing the soul and immortalizing it.
His black body grew blacker, the reddish tint on it brightening. He is Cinder, he is Coal.
This fire will be poured upon the earth…
The Fire intensified. The world raged.
…and earth will separate from fire. The impalpable separated from the palpable.
His skin flaked off, the Black spread into the air and falling to the ground. His body was Ash and the Fire took it and scattered it into space. Piece by piece, the Black taken out, until nothing Black remained and all that remained of his body was Red and Fire.
Blamo moved and the fire shifted.
The Secret Fire ascends as a result of a temporary weakening of the Vital Energy in the physical body. This is why many spiritual awakenings take place under great physicall stress, times of illness, or near death.
There was no distinction between the Fire outside and the Fire inside. They were One and All.
He looked around and he saw Fire and he saw himself. He looked around and Space was himself and All was himself and he himself was All. Around him, inside the Crater, or outside of it, was him.
Space was neat, Chaos and hurricane still, but where it had been cluttered and rough was now smoothed.
Then Fire grew and filled the Crater and overflowed out of it. The Fire moved hungry and enveloped his body, his head, and Space. Fire was all he could see.
If the Secret Fire flows freely, or with greater strength than before, without the proper purification of the Vital Energy of the physical body, it is possible that it will result in what appears to be an extreme illness of the body, but more likely the mind.
Blamo woke and he was burned, or was about to burn. He woke and was still on fire.
He opened his mouth and cackled madly.
The goblin sits up, still cackling. He turned to look at the catfolk, his red eyes taking the other into scrutiny.
In the dim light of the tent, his black skin melds with the dark save for its odd reddish glow.
He finally stopped cackling and licks his lips, opens his mouth again, displaying his many teeth, and said, "Cat."
He seems amazed though it's difficult to know what he's amazed at. He licks his lips again, still staring at Drewan. "Feeee-line."
The stare down is broken as an officer bursts into the room. He looks around.
Well, you are all that is left of the Red Tunics. That one He points to Will Probably wont live the night. You are the only squad that remains. And I am here to give you your first assignment. I was going to make the frog their the squad Sgt., but since he is still asleep I guess it is you.
He drops insignia in the middle of the tent.
I am having some food sent your way, eat up then come meet me in the officer's tent at noon.
|Diu Ligno Spes|
Sorry this is so slow coming, I got distracted with Thanksgiving and then realized I had a paper to write soooo yeah, sorry
Spes wandered the vast wasteland for what seemed like an eternity. Alone and tired, Spes wandered in search of some halfway decent food. A few beetles and and grasshoppers would be wonderful in this emptiness. But no, the only things here were dry and crusty. Food that would taste wrong to any frogs tongue: bread.
After several more hours of walking in this wasteland of bread, Spes finally gave in. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die full. with that he picked up a piece that vaguely resembled a crescent moon and bit in. Increadable!!! Sweet mana from heaven, this is better than any beetle that I've ever tasted Spes practically dived into the bread as he gorged himself. Finding that, not only did it taste rich and sweet, it also sated his parched throat.
Spes kept forcing the most magnificent of foods down his throat for likely an hour or more, its was hard to tell as the food was so distractingly good. After a time however, Spes noticed that 3 large men were shouting and running toward him. It took only a moment to see the sharp knives and curved blades in their hands and realize that they were not just running towards him, but at him. As there voices came into hearing, Spes practically jumped out of his skin, Oye, tasty froggy, wants to taste our lovely breads?! Per'aps tasty froggy should be a taste bread!!
Spes, without realizing it, grabbed a few of the loaves and took off as fast as he could, which if you had seen would have been pretty impressive for someone only a little over a foot and a half. Fast as he thought he was though, Spes only made it a short distance before the beastly men grabbed him and threw him into a large pile of bready goodness. It wants to eats our bread does it? Well, then fine. How abouts we stuffs it with our breadsiess and eats it. said one of the particularly ungly men. As the other two consented, whatever shade of green was left in Spes's face drained leaving a pale white. Before any resistance could be made on Spes's part, he was grabbed and the 3 began stuffing the sweet bread down his throat. However, they didnt even manage to get down half a loaf before Spes blacked out and the men were no more.
Spes woke abruptly in a small cot, blanket halfway in his mouth, covered in ooze. As he pulled the blanket out of his mouth he realized that it was only halfway in his mouth because atleast another quarter of it must have gone down his throat. Gagging on his soaked blanked Spes rolled out of his tiny cot and onto the floor.
Hope you got your paper done!
At the sudden explosion of coughing and gagging, the cat jumps to help the frog-person extricate himself from the blanket. Oh, wait, the blanket is what needs extricating...
|Diu Ligno Spes|
Blamo is still disoriented and half-hears something about food and an officer's tent at noon.
He spots something in the middle of the tent and goes to grab it, then polishes it so it'll be shiny.
|Diu Ligno Spes|
As food is brought in Spes's eyes bulge as he sees the flies and realizes just how hungry he is. To impatient to wait for the man to leave, Spes fires out his tongue and takes in 4 flies at once. Almost immediately, Spes gags on the foulest taste ever to enter his mouth (and thats saying something considering his previous taste of Will). What kind of fly was that? Looking around and not spotting anything particularly interesting to eat, Spes thinks of the rations in his pack and the rations inside. Maybe I've got something better in there (assuming we have our things) Spes tentatively explores his pack in search of some food. Seeing a bit of bread he ponders Maybe.... he takes a curious nibble... Ehh, not bad, but not quite as good as my dream. Spes continues to nibble and absentmindedly mashing the bread in his hands. So, um what happened?
Blamo is staring at the insignia, not recognizing what it means before food is brought in and he completely forgets about it, putting it away.
He starts digging in, numerous sharp teeth tearing the raw meat into smaller pieces for him to swallow.
noon cannot come fast enough.
Our heroes find themselves in the Captain's tent.
Ok maggots. After the blast an orc and two Goblins were seen running off in the direction of the forest. One of those goblins is responsible for bringing that gem that decimated our recruits. I want you three to find and kill them. Yes I am aware that there is no value to this, but revenge will be good for moral. Bring me their heads.
You can report to the quartermaster and make any requests you want. If he has them you will get them. Go you may each ask for 3 things. Be reasonable or the answer will be no
With that he dismisses you.
Blamo, put on your insignia dammit. He calls after our heroes.
"Reveeeenge!" Blamo cries before taking out the shiny he found in the tent earlier and puts it on.
He runs to the quartermaster but then realizes he has no idea where the quartermaster is and returns to the group. He leans down and stares Spes in the eye. "Where go?"
He notices Drewan with them and grins. "Cat! Blamo!" He points at himself. then at Drewan. "Tasty caaaat."
Planning on getting: Thieves' Tools, Formulae Book, Alchemist's Kit
Pointing at himself, Drewan shakes his head and says quietly. "I'm the cat. You must be the blamo." Looking back and forth at his new partners, he can't help but notice that he will be the big target. "I am Drewan," is all he offers by way of introduction.
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|Diu Ligno Spes|
Blamo pauses and appears to think very hard.
He cheerfully asks for lockpicks and proceeds to describe more tools that make up a set of thieves' tools and doesn't stop, pausing only to take breaths, continuing on to list alchemical materials, reagents, and components, bottles, mixers, the things that an Alchemist's Kit contains, and then specifies what kind of tools and equipment that he needs, more than enough for a portable alchemist's lab.
When he finishes he stares at the quartermaster expectantly.
The Quartermaster looks at him. And sends his people running. They return with everthing Blamo needs. Before he goes he says
Wait Sarge. He then clubs Blamo on the head with a book Formulae book perhaps You might need this.
There are no spells in the book other than the ones that you get to begin play with as an alchemist.
The cat nods, "Spes. I'm Drewan."
In the quartermaster's, he looks around.
Do I need to trade the hand crossbow for a shortbow, or will you rule that I'm proficient with it?
I'm assuming that claws to augment my natural ones are not available. I don't have the cost or stats at hand, I can check from the ARG.
Would alchemical items - including sleep poison - be available? How many for a single item on the list?
The cat gives the Quartermaster a small bow. "Sir, do you have a second kit of picks and such like you issued the Sargeant?" Holding up a hand, claws extended, "I have heard of metal claws that fit over natural claws like mine. Do you have any such? How about sleep poison?"
The cat's eyes grow wide as he gets everything he asked for. He tucks away the vials of milky-white fluid carefully. Nodding to the Quartermaster again, he steps away from the bench, "My thanks."
|Diu Ligno Spes|
Poisons are likely to be there as I received them in my pack.
The little frog looks at the man for a moment then seems to go into a bit of a daze as he lists off random things like salt, flour, yeast, honey, and metal cups with lids to hold it all. As his eyes come back into focus, Spes looks up expectantly at the man.
I've got a pot, but I need some way to store yeast and sourdough starter hence the metal cups with lids. Dont need much as I'm tiny. Yup, I'm making sourdough and I figure a quartermaster wouldn't have any of this stuff, but he might send me to the cooks to collect it if I'm lucky....
catfolk with the cat’s claws racial trait. Bought in a set of five, they fit over the wearer’s claws on one hand. The blades grant the wearer a +1 enhancement bonus on claw attack rolls with that hand and change the weapon type from a natural weapon to a light slashing weapon.
Catfolk with the cat’s claws racial trait are proficient with this weapon. The claw blades can be enhanced like a masterwork weapon for the normal costs. The listed cost of the item is for one set of five claws for one hand.