The Daemon King (Inactive)

Game Master Yuugasa


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Stands to one side and smokes her pipe, it had been a long match and the small band of undead had unsettled some. She had spent most of her time flying ahead scouting. Now they where closer, the mountains, that would be a harder task. Evil and dark things where said to be in them. She thought giants.

As the fine song ended she clapped with the others. But she kept a close eye on the army and the king.


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

Nodding his head in respect to the beautiful song the Prince sang, Jasper then simply looks over the skyline and the Razorback Mountains that stand before them.

Approaching the Prince, as he appears to Jasper as the one who is more approachable by he, he asks a question to him.

"Prince Sigmar, I must ask. Have there been any plans to insure the survival of the army among the dangers of the mountains? While the near disaster of the wastelands was averted, whether by boon or curse, to a degree, I can't help but think it may be wise to have an idea of what lies ahead before it becomes a problem."

Any Knowledge check available for knowing the dangers of the Razorback Mountains available?


Jasper Varmine wrote:

Nodding his head in respect to the beautiful song the Prince sang, Jasper then simply looks over the skyline and the Razorback Mountains that stand before them.

Approaching the Prince, as he appears to Jasper as the one who is more approachable by he, he asks a question to him.

"Prince Sigmar, I must ask. Have there been any plans to insure the survival of the army among the dangers of the mountains? While the near disaster of the wastelands was averted, whether by boon or curse, to a degree, I can't help but think it may be wise to have an idea of what lies ahead before it becomes a problem."

Any Knowledge check available for knowing the dangers of the Razorback Mountains available?

"I honestly do not know what lies ahead." The Prince admits. "My father the King and his seer know at least somewhat what awaits us I am sure, but that is not information they will share with me."

A knowledge(geography) DC 20 roll will reveal some info about the mountains.


"The Norse are not like the men of the Empire." Prince Sigmar continues. "They seek adventure and epic deaths and are far more likely to walk into situations simply trusting in their strong arms than to prepare properly." The Prince idly strums his lute as he speaks, filling the air with soft, clear notes.

"I consulted both bards and sages before I left for this campaign but mortal men know little of this place and it's dangers, Only those who speak with the Gods..." He says, nodding toward the shaman where he sits drinking alone. "...have much of an idea of what awaits us."


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

"Thank you, Prince Sigmar. Let us hope that the shaman is willing to share his knowledge," with that, Jasper leaves to approach the Shaman.

Sitting down next to the Shaman, Jasper pulls out a waterskin filled with cold tea. Only after taking a drink, does the human present his question to the Shaman.

"I know not of the dangers that lie ahead, as I've delved too long in my rightful studies in alchemy. If we are too keep the Prince alive as you requested, we will need more men to stay alive as well and hopefully without a near disaster that the wastelands threatened them. Do you have any knowledge of what dangers may lie in those mountains, Shaman?"


The Shaman turns his hooded head towards Jasper. "There are no more men to recruit, out here in the Wastes, but I do have some knowledge of what lies ahead." He says in response to the inquiry.

"These mountains hold many secrets, some quite deadly, but the greatest threat we will face I expect will be the Frost Giants. Titanic worshipers of Chaos, their ancestors once worshiped the Daemon King. In his time they were noble, intelligent sorcerers who created great wonders but these days they are little more than savage barbarians with a taste for man flesh."


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

"And I was speaking of keeping what men we have alive, rather then simply recruiting more unless you freely trust those converted. Still, Frost Giants..." Jasper corrects the Shaman before pondering the danger ahead.

Knowledge(Nature): 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (20) + 20 = 40 for info on said Frost Giants.

"I'll have to delve through my notes and prepare accordingly then. I get the feeling that we will need a bit more fire to fight them and for others to stay warm, in addition to trying to prevent a mess by falling rocks. Whether thrown by giants, or by nature it self dropping them on us." With that, Jasper starts to get up before he hesitates on a decision. Deciding knowledge is better then ignorance, he retakes his seat near the Shaman.

"You are not what I expected from a follower of Tzeentch, as rumors I've heard mention that they are twisted into mindless beasts," the distaste of such a state is easily heard in the human's voice. "Something that I have no desire to be. I may never convert, but a choice out of ignorance is something I hate. So I must ask, what does Tzeentch require in order for one of his followers to avoid such a fate?"


"Tzeentch is formed from the hope inherent in all living beings, and hope is most often embodied by change. Changing circumstances, changing into a better person, changing your life into the stuff of your ambitions, dreams and fantasies." The Shaman informs Jasper.

"Tzeentch often grants his followers great magic powers, visions of the future, and mutations that strengthen their bodies, all so that they can be better equipped to follow their hopes and dreams, however, as the gifts pile up a worshiper's mortal frame begins to become stressed and fail from the powerful energies flowing through it and ultimately only one of three fates awaits a Champion of Chaos; Death in combat, an overload of power that overwhelms their body and reduces them to mindless chaos spawn, or the ultimate final reward..." The Shaman takes a deep breath.

"...Ascension into an immortal and powerful Daemon Prince, an undying spirit of great potency that strides the Realm of Chaos like a God."

The Shaman takes a long pull of his drink and is silent for a moment.

"From my experience for every ten thousand Champions that end their life in destruction and death only one achieves the ultimate power and lives forever and those all seem to have two things in common; One, they treat Tzeentch like the true deity he is, giving him the respect he deserves and never becoming so arrogant that they think they can escape the hand of Fate and two, no matter what happens or how brutal their future may seem they never let go of their dream and never surrender to fear and despair, hope burns forever in their breast and they acknowledge that as long as their dream of godhood beats in their heart, Tzeencth will ensure that they will one day achieve it!"


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11
Yuugasa wrote:

The King listens to the others ideas but seems to dismiss them out of hand, having rather arbitrarily decided the problem is already solved.

He promotes Galendir to the trusted rank of Huscarl and grants him command over one hundred Norse Raiders ( Savage Mercenaries )

"You honor me great king. I will do my best to live up to the rank provided."

Galendir celebrates and enjoys the music and song provided by others.

While traveling Galendir approaches Bertradis.

"You see stoic as always Nun. Does the corruption of these men upset you? Surely one with loose enough morals to sell their services as a mercenary has a bit more of an open mind." He is playful if not a bit snarky at how uncomfortable the situation is for the worshiper of Sigmar.

Jasper and the Shaman.
"Jasper, good to see you talking again. Forgive me but I overheard. Frost Giants was it? You would think if they worshiped this Daemon King one among them would grasp for the power. Perhaps they can offer some insight or knowledge of the tomb, though it may take some persuading to get it out."


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

Listening to the Shaman's words, Jasper can't help but pull out a vial and begin to stare at its contents during the explanation. It spins in his palm as the campfire light dances through its reddish liquid inside as he studies the mixture while carefully listening to the Shaman's words.

"Mutations that strengthen. Change. Immortality." Jasper can't help but whisper those words as he ponders the Shaman's words. Each word slowly becoming more haunted. More passionate.

Is that what he has been missing from his work? Was Tzeentch the key...

Startled from his thoughts, Jasper freezes at Galendir's words before relaxing. Taking a moment to put away the vial and its contents.

"Frost Giants, yes. Immune to the chill, vulnerable to fire, and loves to throw small boulders. The Shaman's mention that they were once intelligent sorcerers should be remembered as well, for I would not be surprised if a few might not have degenerated completely into a barbaric state so near the Daemon's Tomb."

Looking over the collection of mercenaries and barbarians, he can't help but further ask. "What supplies do you think the lot may need to survive in the mountains? Fire, rope, an entire pantheon worth of miracles?"


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

~ Later ~

When Jasper lets the allies know what to expect from the Razorback Mountains, Senna almost smiles, "Frost Giants? That could prove interesting depending on how many there are. I think aerial reconnaissance may be of value."


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

"Assuming the air isn't more dangerous then the ground, you mean. Still, it is a tempting proposition if you plan for danger in the first place. Personally if I go, I'll want to bring along a few items to prevent a painful landing if something in the air messes with my extracts. I don't have wings as Lorenna there, and the wastelands have made me weary of what dangers beyond creatures lurk in those mountains," Jasper warns the almost smiling woman.

"And was that a lilt of cheer in the word of 'Frost' in frost giants there?"


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

"We know so little of this strange region, you may be right. But I've gotten used to being a dangerous creature of the air, so I'll take precautions and roll the dice. And we'll see if my confidence is misplaced."

At his question about the giants, Senna smiles. "It was a small note of hope. If giants here are much like the ones from our lands... then you'll have a pleasant surprise to match the giants' unpleasant one if we battle them. But I'd rather not set an expectation that I can't deliver upon."


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11

"If we wish to fly into the mountains and and assault from the air that is fine. I can carry or take the Nun. I can change me shape as a druid. I loose fighting prowess but changing back is simple enough."


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

FWIW - I'm not suggesting a team tactic. I'm saying what I intend to do.


Senna Proviso wrote:
FWIW - I'm not suggesting a team tactic. I'm saying what I intend to do.

Is Senna going to take to the air now or tomorrow when the army moves?


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

Tomorrow, when the army is in the mountains, I'll do high level recon. I'll be looking for large open snowy areas that they have to traverse and/or any obvious movement.


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

If you need to more (flying height, spell defenses, etc.) just let me know.


The conversations around the camp are interrupted by a howl of rage, Bjorn stalks toward where the Prince sits and flips the table next to him, spilling drinks and food and causing the Prince's Huscarls to rise and angrily draw their weapons, though none move to strike him, waiting on the Prince's command.

"How dare you, you little shit! You stole my woman!" Bjorn roars, pointing to an attractive and scantily clad dark haired woman lounging at the Prince's side, draped over him. Her arms tighten in a fearful hug on the Prince as Bjorn bellows at him.

"She is a free woman Bjorn, not a slave. She goes where she pleases, and tonight she craved a more skillful touch than your big paws can provide." Prince Sigmar idly tells the Champion before taking a long draw on his mead.

Bjorn turns bright red and almost stutters in his rage. "That's it you little worm! It's time for you to die! I challenge you to a duel!"

"Finally." The Prince says calmly, standing up after gently disentangling himself from the woman.

"I've grown tired of your shit, but I never kill anyone I don't strictly need to. This will be good, if I win perhaps I will get a bit of respect around here." The Prince remarks with an amused smile on his face.


The camp moves to encircle the duelists as they move to a wide open space to fight and everyone gathers to watch, even the King, though by the lazy contemptuous look on his face he seems to care little that his last remaining son is most likely about to die.

Bjorn stands in his heavy mail, strapped with daggers and wielding his duo of oversized axes.

The Prince surprisingly steps forward unarmed, without even putting on his high quality plate mail, still wearing the loose pajama like silken robes he relaxes and sleeps in.

"What is this?" Bjorn demands. "Where are your weapons?"

"Just a moment, my servant comes with it as we speak." The Prince replies as one of his Huscarls, a small woman that looks like she isn't even strong enough to bear weapons, approaches and hands him a bottle of perfume.

Bjorn looks incredulous as the Prince sprays himself over and over again with the perfume until a strong floral smell emanates from him so powerfully that it permeates the entire camp.

"What is that? An enchanted potion?" The Champion asks suspiciously.

"No." The Prince says, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"It is simply a perfume, extract of the Lothern Rose to be exact, my favorite scent."

The Champion doesn't even say anything but simply shakes with laughter before raising his weapons for the easy kill.

"You always were too much of a girl to survive in a man's world." He says with murderous glee in his eyes.


The Prince stands calmly as the Champion charges him but just as Bjorn reaches him the Champion suddenly freezes, his axes raised above the Princes head, ready to descend, but locked in place as the Champions muscles quiver.

"It looks like I get to live." The Prince comments. "The poison kicked in fast enough."

At this remark most of the crowd takes an anxious step back, fearing the cloying rose scent is a deadly toxin.

"Do not worry, the perfume will not harm you." The Prince tells the crowd. "It is not poisonous."

The crowd looks around at each other confused. The biggest question of all in Bjorn's hateful eyes as his body quivers under his attempts to move it.

"The poison was already in your body Bjorn. You always hated me since I was a child but I thought maybe we could be friends, still, I had to take precautions in case that didn't work out. Ten years ago I poisoned your dinner with the deadly paralytic venom of the Helldrake, a poison with a strange property."

The Prince explains, drawing a dagger from Bjorn's belt and starting to clean his nails with it.

"Unless used immediately after being extracted from the Helldrake, the poison becomes inert but if ingested it stays in ones system virtually forever. Still you would have been fine if you hadn't crossed me." The Prince takes a deep breath of the sweet perfume scent in the air.

"Lothern Roses are often used by alchemists because of their powerful ability to chemically react to expired potions and reagents and reactivate them. In this case, while I and the crowd simply smell the Rose's sweetness, you have had it reactivate the venom inside you." The Prince remarks looking up from his nails into Bjorn's raging, but frozen, face.

"Lothern Roses are so rare that there is almost no chance you would accidently smell one, especially this far north, but you decided to face me..." The Prince says, ramming Bjorn's own dagger into the Champion's throat.

Bjorn's eyes bulge in agony but he cannot cry out or struggle as he slowly and painfully drowns in his own blood.

"...and so you die, such is the fate of all who cross me." The Prince says, walking calmly away and putting his arm around the woman who left Bjorn for him, leading her back to his tent as she excitedly returns his embrace.


The crowd, stunned by the massive Champion's defeat, neither cheers nor boos but simply stares at one another in shock. Bjorn had always seemed such a larger than life figure, invincible on and off the field of battle.

Now his corpse, still standing upright with his weapons raised, ironically like a statue erected in remembrance of a fallen hero, was all that remained of the once unstoppable Champion.

The King sneers and turns away, heading off to drink more, clearly displeased with the results, while his Huscarls look at each other with questioning gazes, wondering just how safe any of them are from the formerly underestimated Prince.

Visilk the Shaman seems excited by the turn of events, turning towards the mercenaries and clapping his hands gleefully in an uncharacteristic gesture of enthusiasm. "Tzeentch would be so pleased to have that man as a worshiper, oh mighty God, what can I do to turn this man's heart towards you?" He asks the air, though it is unclear whether he is genuinely asking his God or being hyperbolic.


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

Jasper watches over the scene, impressed at the foresight and intelligence of Prince Sigmar. Ten years prior planned for when that situation finally occurred. That had to take quite a bit of patience. Still, the alchemist can't help but give an impressed and slow clap that echoes the Shaman's own.

To the group watching the scene with him, "I'm impressed. I never heard of Lothern Roses used as a perfume before. Stories of it burned in incense or ground into a powder, yes, but as a perfume? That is a new one for me."

"I'm tempted to ask him if he has any for trade, but I doubt he wants any further disruptions from his ... care this evening. Shame we can't do something similar against any Frost Giants in the mountains, or at least be as effective. Still, it sounds as though his actions didn't draw much respect from most of the crowd."

"On our plans to scout ahead of the army. I'm personally tempted to stay with the pack, if near the front and on the ground, just to help insure they don't fall prey to any pitfalls in the range. Still, excuse me as my interest is sparked." With that, the human alchemist rises from the others and approaches the shaman once again.

Any possible info as an Alchemist on the Helldrake Poison and Lothern Rose for me, as possible tools if I can synthesize or barter for some? I'm sure a handful of synthesized poison crafted in bulk might help a trade later.

"Visilk, I am starting to understand your interest in Prince Sigmar more and more. Who crafts and taught him such wondrous things, as I doubt any of the King's preferred teachers would even know, much less teach, such things? He had wonderful fore-planning to have such a feat ready, though I find it odd he didn't slit the Bjorn's throat first before giving his explanation as the berserker slowly died. Better safe then sorry, and all that."


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11

Galendir keeps his thoughts to himself. As the huge warrior freezes in place, Galendir makes his way over to Bjorn's men. As the prince continues to monologue, Galendir looks to one that seemed close to Bjorn.

"I will have my gold now. If you and your men need a skilled and powerful leader you may join mine. Now hurry along I trust Bjorn was honorable enough to have a sack set aside."

After collecting he approaches the prince. He stares for a moment offers two claps and tosses him a gold coin.

"You earned me a good pay today Sigmar. You seem quite the visionary. You will come to me soon enough I suspect. Just remember to bring your gold when you do."


Jasper Varmine wrote:


Any possible info as an Alchemist on the Helldrake Poison and Lothern Rose for me, as possible tools if I can synthesize or barter for some? I'm sure a handful of synthesized poison crafted in bulk might help a trade later.

"Visilk, I am starting to understand your interest in Prince Sigmar more and more. Who crafts and taught him such wondrous things, as I doubt any of the King's preferred teachers would even know, much less teach, such things? He had wonderful fore-planning to have such a feat ready, though I find it odd he didn't slit the Bjorn's throat first before giving his explanation as the berserker slowly died. Better safe then sorry, and all that."

They are items from Warhammer that I haven't converted to Pathfinder unfortunately, so they have no official stats but there are plenty of poisons already in Pathfinder that you can craft if you wish.

"The Prince was very inquisitive when he was young, always questioning and listening to any Bard or Sage that passed through his fathers Court. When he came of age he sailed the world for over five years and returned a learned man, just what secrets he keeps in his head I do not know." Visilk responds.

"I thought it odd as well he didn't slit Bjorn's throat immediately, but more so that he entered the duel with no armor or weapons at all, even with the poison in play. The Norse have almost a death wish in general, believing the only honorable death is a death in battle, but the Prince seems ridiculously contemptuous of death even for that."

Visilk shurgs. "Does he have a legitimate deathwish? Or is it empty bravado? I would guess that maybe he is too young to understand the risks he is taking with his life, but having seen what I've seen I would find that confusing."


Galendir d'Arden wrote:

Galendir keeps his thoughts to himself. As the huge warrior freezes in place, Galendir makes his way over to Bjorn's men. As the prince continues to monologue, Galendir looks to one that seemed close to Bjorn.

"I will have my gold now. If you and your men need a skilled and powerful leader you may join mine. Now hurry along I trust Bjorn was honorable enough to have a sack set aside."

After collecting he approaches the prince. He stares for a moment offers two claps and tosses him a gold coin.

"You earned me a good pay today Sigmar. You seem quite the visionary. You will come to me soon enough I suspect. Just remember to bring your gold when you do."

Bjorn's men obviously fear the man who controls the Undead and though Bjorn had not prepared a sack of treasure they quickly gather the prize from his things and offer it to Galendir, declining his offer of leadership though, seemingly out of fear.

Afterwards when Galendir approaches the Prince and speaks the Prince responds; "I'm glad I could help and I appreciate the compliment. As far as hiring you though, I think not. As I've said before, I need friends in my life, not employees. Have a good night."


Galendir notices something odd at that moment as he sees the the Prince's Huscarls standing nearby, the whole compliment of them now rather than just a few.

While the King's Huscarls were all big men and obviously skilled warriors only a few of Prince Sigmar's were. Most of the twenty or so individuals where very small young women, very old men and even a few maimed cripples, terrible material for bodyguards but at that moment they looked upon Sigmar like a God among men, flush with joy over his victory even while the rest of the army seemed luke warm or even hostile about it.

Prince Sigmar had turned down your blade even knowing your immense and formidable skill while surrounding himself with the few individuals among the Norse pathetic enough and downtrodden enough to look past his small size and dirty heritage, could it be that the Prince was simply so starved for affection and attention he would value those few who saw him in a positive light over his own well being and life?


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

Senna watches the sacrifice (as it wasn't a battle) with equanimity - neither applauding nor jeering. Only a small frown creases her brow at something in the prince's explanation. After he has gone off to celebrate or wench, Senna moves among his followers - a small and unimposing woman among many unimposing people. She approaches an elderly man. Her manner is deferential. "Excuse me, grandfather, but I have a question. Your Lord is clever. Do you know what God or cause does he serve?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22


While Galendir speaks with the Prince and Senna questions the old man, Wulfgar, the tall blond captain of King Hrothagar's Huscarls approaches the other mercenaries and calls the most effective ones The PCs by name.

"The King wishes to see you for a very important matter." He says, his handsome youthful face splitting in a charming smile.

Suddenly Visilk seems agitated. "I can see the future here!" He proclaims. "The King will ask you to slay the Prince! Don't do it! If you try you will succeed and be well rewarded, but mighty Tzeentch will be robbed of a future mighty servant! Please! Refuse the King!"

Wulfgar's face curls in a disgusted sneer. "Who cares if the pretentious little princeling dies? We honor Tzeentch as part of the Pantheon but he won't care about one future Champion's death! Besides remember whom you serve you sniveling wretch, there is only one King here and soon he will be unto a God!" He says, kicking Visilk in the ribs viciously and spilling him across the ground.

"Not everyone sees the Prince as some immensely clever paragon of a man as you do, shaman. Some of us see him for what he is, a weak boy whose only weapons are treachery and backstabbing. Be fooled by his pretentious and overly confident exterior as his gabble of fools do, but we have eyes and can see what he is, a snake whose venom bites at the heel of great warriors!"


Senna Proviso wrote:
Senna watches the sacrifice (as it wasn't a battle) with equanimity - neither applauding nor jeering. Only a small frown creases her brow at something in the prince's explanation. After he has gone off to celebrate or wench, Senna moves among his followers - a small and unimposing woman among many unimposing people. She approaches an elderly man. Her manner is deferential. "Excuse me, grandfather, but I have a question. Your Lord is clever. Do you know what God or cause does he serve?"

While perhaps the old man would be more on guard speaking to a mercenary in normal circumstances, Senna's unimposing stature and attitude combined with the foolish sexism of the Norse leaves him relaxed, still flush with joy from his lord's victory. He must not recognize Senna from the battle with the Orcs or he would be much more wary.

"My Lord serves no one but himself, in truth, not even the King. He is a self made man and cares only for himself and his friends." The old one babbles.


Stands on a rock bluff just outside of camp, she has a good view, Her men will tell her what was said, but she can work most of it out. She had known he price longer than most there, and this was his way when he wanted to make a pain.

She would have to go down the and see who of his men where still out for blood.

Visilk the Shaman was jumping about.

Gem and Rose:

Rose

::"Now what's made him so happy?"::

Gem

::"Could be he's seen a sign"::

Rose

::"More like he wanted to see what the price would do"::

Then she spotted the one called Gale walking over to the dead champions followers.

Rose and gem:

Gem
::I do hope hes just collecting on his bet and not wanting the body, got to keep an eye on that one."::

Rose

::"He is doing what others are, building a wall before the storm, nothing more. no lets get on with things. Side shows is over time for work."::

She jumped down and walked back into the light of the camp.


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

Before the Huscarl sent a kick into the Shaman's ribs
"Confidence, possibly over-confidence to a point, would be my thought but he did plan for ten years in advance for when this moment finally occurred. Who knows what other tricks he has waiting in case that method fails as well to inspire such confidence?"

Post-Sparta-Kick

Sighing in a touch of exasperation, Jasper reaches down and helps Visilk back to his feet. Holding onto the shaman's shoulder, he lets his touch help heal what wounds he could have taken from the hit Healing Touch-5HP per round, as he grabs a small vial he was staring at earlier in the day and drinks it. Rolling his neck, his bones seem to creak and pop as the constant lethargy seems to drain away from Jasper's face as small whisps of steam seem to escape from under his clothes. Mutagen

"Must you really act in such a manner? The Shaman was just praising a trait so rare amongst these lands, and has survived so long in spite of it." The alchemist drawls towards the huscarl. "Still, I can't help but understand the fear of most here that has shown him similar direspect or ire in the past. Who knows what trick he has ready to deal with such a person similar to Bjorn, set in motion five or even ten years ago when such displeasure was first made against him?"

Releasing the Visilk's shoulder, he turns fully towards the Hurscal. "Just so you know, most vipers are quite content to simply bask in the sun. Only when disturbed, whether by a careless footfall or being provoked as the Prince was, does it strike with it poisonous fangs against a larger creature."

Taking a moment to slide the empty vial away, he pats down his equipment to insure nothing is missing or loose before addressing the Huscarl again.

"Still it is the King that is paying us, and thus let us hear what the King requires of us today. Hopefully it is not to deprive the army of more men before we even reach the shadow of the Daemon's King tomb itself." Looking over where Bjorn's standing corpse was last he sighs. "That one would have been perfect to go first into the breach."


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11

"I had friends once dear prince. It is a nice sentiment you still hold onto. I am offering my friendship, but as all things it has a price. As said I suspect you will call on me soon enough. I am not so simple minded and you may need more friends then you currently have, or not. I suspect the king will deal with you as he ascends. I mean if he ascends. Goodnight to you Sigmar enjoy your spoils and the woman."

He bows and smiles going back to his men.

@Wolfgar

"Well let us not keep the king waiting." He smiles as Wolfgar kicks the shaman.

"Yes this one plays dangerous games. He cares only for himself and glory of his god. If your god wanted the boy safe then perhaps he would bless you to do so shaman. Let us see if the king wishes what you have seen."


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

Senna sighs, reasonably certain of what comes next, and finding it as pointless as the earlier butchery. "Fine. Let's see what the King wants."


Galendir d'Arden wrote:

"I had friends once dear prince. It is a nice sentiment you still hold onto. I am offering my friendship, but as all things it has a price. As said I suspect you will call on me soon enough. I am not so simple minded and you may need more friends then you currently have, or not. I suspect the king will deal with you as he ascends. I mean if he ascends. Goodnight to you Sigmar enjoy your spoils and the woman."

He bows and smiles going back to his men.

"I have not lived long in this world I'll admit." Prince Sigmar says to Galendir, acknowledging that the young are often foolish and he doesn't see himself as an exception. "But a friendship that comes with a price tag is no true friendship that I am interested in. Good night and take care of yourself."


looks on as The Prince and Galendir talk, from a discrete distance then when told the king needs her she walks to the meeting.


Wulfgar seems just generally dismissive of the mercenaries' opinions, not responding and just rolling his eyes, but Visilk is grateful for Jasper's help.

Once the high end mercenaries are all gathered Wulfgar leads them to the King's pavilion, a large tent filled with treasures and trophies amid a court of his drunken lackeys and huge, muscular Huscarls and announces each one respectfully by name.

After the honor list is read the King, sitting on a throne formed from bear furs and mammoth tusks, all personally slain by him, addresses the warriors before him.

"I have called you here because I would like to use your services for a very specific task." Hrothagar informs you. "Prince Sigmar, that bastard whelp, has dishonored me for the last time. His weakness and treachery disgust me and I'll stand for it no longer. Bjorn was the second strongest warrior in the army after myself and without his services I am at a disadvantage on my quest. To see such a mighty and honorable warrior fall to a weapon as dishonorable as poison is too much, I'll not have the Prince biting at the ankles of great men any longer." The King sighs, looking tired.

"I regret the day I ever took his mother as my slave on that raid of the south and I wish I had smashed his small body to pieces the day he was born instead of just naming him Sigmar as a slander against that weak southern god for the boy's tiny, weak body. Kill Prince Sigmar for me and free my legacy from the taint of weakness and treachery, I will greatly reward you."


Male Human
Boosts:
Heroism(4h):+2 Saves, Skills, Attacks. Darkvision(12h): 60ft. SeeInvis(2h). Barkskin(2h)
Alchemist(Grenadier) 12 / Siege Gunner(Gunslinger) 1

Frowning, Jasper may have expected such a task but he is wary. Not for the target of the deed, but the timing. Still, tis better to wait for Galendir and Lorenna to speak first, as the King seems to prefer them.

Taking a calming breath, he waits for the others to respond first as he slowly scans the pavilion for anything odd or out of place. Prince Sigmar had to know such an event would likely happen after his blatant display, and if his willing ten year wait to deal with Bjorn was any indication...

Then there might be something waiting here as well for King Hrothagar and his men the moment he took this very action. Taking three vials off his bandoleer, he downs them one after another as he slowly scans the room as his senses sharpen considerably under the effects of the liquids.

Alchemical Allocation -> Elixir of Vision -> Echolocation

Take 10 Perception: 40 (Blindsight 40ft)


Jasper spots a pair of men in black cloaks hiding quite efficiently in the shadows to the right of the throne, surprisingly close.

As the King finishes his request for the death of the Prince one nods toward the other and they both draw long, thin swords and begin to move toward the King, still unseen by most of the room's occupants.


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11

"The shaman vision was true. As you know great king my loyalty is at the command of your gold. I care little for the why but if you wish to pay me to dispatch him then it will be so."

He bows. Perception: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (15) + 29 = 44 As his hand moves to his blade.

"Do you men there truly wish to do this? I assume you are spies of the prince. You can throw down your blades and offer yourselves to the mercy of the king, or proceed. I will add you to my collection of undead and make you tell me of the prince. Choose now."

His head is down the whole time not looking at the men but his grip tightens as he tells them to choose.


Now that they know they have been spotted the men rush at the King, intent on taking his life.

Combat begins. The Assassins are 10ft away, you have 24 hours in which to post your actions, after which the Assassins will have a turn, then it is your turn again with a 24 hour window to post etc. If you miss the window you miss your action for that round. Players actions occur in the order in which they post.


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11

So no surprise round, but we go first so they are still flat footed I'm assuming. Its kind of my thing with a +16 init.

Galendir smiles.

"More servants it is."

His blade glows for a moment with a green energy as he moves in low on the approach and raises the blade cutting deep into one of the men's abdomen.

Swift: Bane
Full: Charge Attack Studied Target triggers with sneak attack.

Sword Strike: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (3) + 29 = 32 I assume this hits flat footed
Damage: 2d6 + 35 + 2d6 + 3d6 ⇒ (4, 6) + 35 + (3, 1) + (2, 2, 1) = 54 Conductive so he looses 2 levels

"This one is mine."


Yes, their flat footed AC is 18.

The Assassin Galendir strikes cries out as he is cut and his lifeforce drained away but he keeps his feet and turns on his assailant, bringing his blade up for a fight.


HP:31 | AC:15 ; T:15 ; FF:13 ; CMD:19/17 | Fort:+5 ; Ref:+6 ; Will:+7 | Init:+3 ; PER:+11 (Low Light)

Yuugasa - is that assassin dead or just wounded?


Senna Proviso wrote:
Yuugasa - is that assassin dead or just wounded?

Just wounded, I'll edit it so that is more clear.


She was standing behind the others as the king talks.
Looking like this.

The Rosa and The Gem:

Rose
::"Well we knew this was coming"::

Take 10 Perception: 37

Gem
::"By a mile, and its begins, two coming up with daggers,
Gale's going to engaged."
::

Rose
::"Shield"::

Gem
::"Shield up!"::

AC now 47 TA 38 FF39

Rose
::"Others!"::

Take 10 Perception: 37
Gem
::"Looking now"::

Rose
::"I'm going to relocate us, get ready"::

Acrobatics Move 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (18) + 24 = 42 To be by the other bad guy

She jumps from behind the others, flipping over in the air and coming down by by the other attacker. Her Steel like fists flick out and hitting the attacker at key places over his body, hands move blindingly fast.

ATTACKS:

Full-Flurry of blows 19/20 Crit Lethal DMG
+1 Attack with ki spend
1d20 + 20 ⇒ (16) + 20 = 36TH/DMG2d8 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (6, 1) + 4 + 4 = 15 Pos Crit
1d20 + 20 ⇒ (19) + 20 = 39TH/DMG2d8 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (7, 1) + 4 + 4 = 16 Pos Crit
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (10) + 15 = 25TH/DMG2d8 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 2) + 4 + 4 = 12
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34TH/DMG2d8 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (5, 7) + 4 + 4 = 20
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20TH/DMG2d8 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 1) + 4 + 4 = 11
1d20 + 20 ⇒ (7) + 20 = 27TH/DMG2d8 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (7, 8) + 4 + 4 = 23 Pos Crit

87 DMG

Pos Crit Lethal DMG
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (17) + 15 = 32TH/DMG2d8 ⇒ (4, 7) = 11
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (5) + 15 = 20TH/DMG2d8 ⇒ (6, 2) = 8
1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24TH/DMG2d8 ⇒ (4, 1) = 5

25DMG from Crits

All DMG counts as Bludgeoning Damage that counts as Magic, Cold Iron, Silver, Good weapons for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction and bypassing hardness.

She says as she attacks.

"Keep your eyes open, this probably just a distraction from the real attack"

The Gem and The Rose:

Gem
::"You look like your having fun, you know the other one is still standing, even with out guts"::

Rose
::"Others, come one find them?"::

Gem
::trying love trying"::


AC 21 FF 15 T 16 | HP 44/52 | F +4 R +13 W +7 | Init +11 | Percep +11

Lorenna no full attack when you move. Your amulet of mighty fist is priced wrong. Should be 32000gp. Your top attack would be +20 as is but you shorted yourself a point when flurrying, You will be at +21 based on your stuff.

If attacked:

Not sure how many attacks he has so I will give you 4 parry rolls. Will be using riposte.
parry: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (11) + 29 = 40
parry: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (3) + 29 = 32
parry: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (13) + 29 = 42
parry: 1d20 + 29 ⇒ (5) + 29 = 34

Riposte: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (12) + 25 = 37 Used on the first attack parried. Doing nonlethal damage

Damage: 2d6 + 35 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 35 + (5, 5) = 50


The Assassin survives Lorenna's rain of blows but looks much worse for wear. She and her gem scan the room but can find no further threats.


Sorted the problems, She is +21 highest attack, missed that. So do you need me to re roll, its only 3 attacks just Punch/wing/wing. +21/+16/+16 DMG wing 1d4+2+4, AC46 not 48

Braces for his attack and ready's to hit back.


Lorenna The_Winter_Rose wrote:

Sorted the problems, She is +21 highest attack, missed that. So do you need me to re roll, its only 3 attacks just Punch/wing/wing. +21/+16/+16 DMG wing 1d4+2+4, AC46 not 48

Nah, I'll count it, momentary math error, but for mistakes like that in the future I will require rerolls.

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