Wood, having conquered his urge to enjoy the comforting touch of his new book, waves his hands and encants opening a dimensional portal.
Monster Summoning I - Augmented Dog. He may need to chase down Gkirkan again. That sound is familiar.
knowledge arcana/history/local 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 281d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 221d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Gkirkhan freezes, subject to a 'hold person' as a ghostly female form appears, places a flute to her lips, and begins to play a mournful dirge. As she does, ghostly stirges also materialize, flaping their wings to the tune.
@Wood: You have heard that tune before...your granny played it at every funeral of every family member until she passed away when you were 10. If either of those other rolls is perception...the ghost resembles granny as well.
You ethereal b!тс#. KnHistory/Arcana:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 91d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Knowing little about the effect on Gkirkhan or the specifics of the Piper's captivity or methodology, Vertielle draws her own flute, touching it to her own lips, and plays a merry, lively tune akin to those heard in meadhalls, hoping it will encourage the voraciously alehappy Gkirkhan to action.
Perform:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 Simultaneously playing the Piper's Flute, using aid another for Gkirkhan's next will save, and activating countersong. Will:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
HP: 28/63 AC 18/14/14: F+7, R +4, W +1, Per:-2, Init: +5, Rage: 6/9
Orc:"I curse you foul witch! I curse you to forever be my prey. I curse you to feel my hammer's bite again and again. I curse you to feel my sword's sting a thousand times and thousand again. I will chase you from the highest heavens to the lowest hells. Demons will turn you away. Devils will cast you out. Angels will not even speak with you for they will know I am your hunter and that I will send them to oblivion if they dare get in my way! Thrice and again cursed and thrice and again warned you have been witch."
Gkirkhan struggles against the arcane bonds. Hatred and fury fill his eyes as he curses the ghostly form in a voice that is even and cold.
@Vertielle; you must make a will save every round you play that. Target is 13.
1d6 ⇒ 4
As Vertielle begins to play the skeletons seem to be affected, moving slower (staggered) but they still attempt to attack, missing hideously. The Piper also seems to be affected, as one of the stirges surrounding her winks out of existence.
skeleton_N2_Gkirkhan:1d20 - 3 ⇒ (5) - 3 = 2
damage_Gkirkhan:1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
skeleton_S1_Vertielle:1d20 - 3 ⇒ (6) - 3 = 3
damage_Vertielle:1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Skeleton S2 gets to Vertielle but cannot attack.
@Wood; as you speak, the ghostly figure turns toward you. No, it's not Grams, but...did she have a sister you never knew of?
Gkirkhan readies attack vs. approach (Though only uses one AoO?)
Vertielle begins Bardic Performance
Others hear combat & advance
Gkirkhan is held
Vertielle saving finales Gkirkhan & begins countersong
Wood begins summoning dog
Dog appears, Skeletons are staggered.
countersong:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6Son of a b*&%#. aid Gkirkhan Will Save:1d20 ⇒ 2SON OF...
In melee combat, you can help a friend attack or defend by distracting or interfering with an opponent. If you're in position to make a melee attack on an opponent that is engaging a friend in melee combat, you can attempt to aid your friend as a standard action. You make an attack roll against AC 10. If you succeed, your friend gains either a +2 bonus on his next attack roll against that opponent or a +2 bonus to AC against that opponent's next attack (your choice), as long as that attack comes before the beginning of your next turn. Multiple characters can aid the same friend, and similar bonuses stack. You can also use this standard action to help a friend in other ways, such as when he is affected by a spell, or to assist another character's skill check.
You awaken in a coffin. A red-haired priest of Pharasma is hovering over you, a concerned look on his face. His expression lightens as your eyes open, and he speaks.
"Welcome back. Pharasma be praised. We managed to recover your body from Harrowstone, but there was a delay in resurrecting you. It's been six months. Your friends have moved on in their pursuit of the Whispering Way. Please, let me help you up and to make plans for your future."
KnArcana:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14 I'd have had to give consent to have been raised... What's going on here? Who paid for my resurrection? Oh, thank you... Praytell, what was the delay? I had thought I had an accord with the Pharasmin clergy? Note that's not TECHNICALLY a lie. bluff:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Vertielle, you feel a surge of strengthening energy and the priest suddenly grimaces, as if in pain.
"One of the locals in that town was allied with the Way. They snuck in and slew Vesorianna, releasing the ghosts of the prisoners. Your friends were lucky. Many of the locals, not so. it's taken this long to straighten out the repercussions."
The red-haired priest looks at you oddly. "Unfortunately, yes. No one understands why, but apparently Kendra Lorrimor had been seduced by the cult. She vanished afterwards. I believe your friends are in pursuit."
He seems to be ignoring your question about his name.
Gkirkhan, as you try to rage, the piper takes her gaze off of you, releasing you, though her ghostly stirges still wing towards you.
Fort save, please, Gkirkhan.
Wood, as the Piper turns to face you, her face suddenly contorts with rage as she directs her will toward you.
A Pharasmin priest, referring to such a blasphemer as a "father"? However derogatory, I do not think, Mr. Corvin.
Vertielle draws her blade, long and dark, a blackened dirk. It makes the rasp of steel on steel, a promise.
This farce has gone on long enough!
She plunges the dirk far into the liar's stomach, drawing it up and twisting it. Her hand soaked with blood and gut, she stares into the man's dying, pale eyes with a cold indifference.
Will:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 I'm having a hard time keeping track of rounds when I'm in la-la land roleplaying out of combat, so just let me know when the will saves are coming.
Vertielle pulls the blade from the Charlatan's stomach, her own twisting in agony.
Damn you, inliis. Your body will burn, your spirit wither eternal in the pits of hell.