Mordecai's page

Initiative, for if Mordecai wakes up. 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

sleeping perception check 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Mordecai snorts in his sleep and mutters something in Osirioni.

Mordecai sleeps in his armor, which he's pretty much always done, since moving to Riddleport.

It's a rough town. :)

Mordecai looks around, too tired to give the idea much thought. "At a guess? They've probably lost some people, like that guard the others found, and this was their tent, which would also explain why they were willing to offer jobs to random strangers wandering into camp. I can't imagine why they'd lie about it, 'though, especially to a group that claims to be the remains of two other decimated groups, and obviously knows the island is crawling with dangers..."

Perception 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

After a day of hard labor, which Mordecai is seriously wondering if could be made easier with the help of a few fiendish badgers to loosen the soil, Mordecai is utterly blind to whatever unsubtle clues lie about.

Mordecai pokes at the hard tack, his face carefully neutral, thinking, Pity it isn't infested with beetles. At least that might add some flavor..., before replying. "I could offer myself up as spokesman, but I'm sure some might protest. We are an independent minded group, or, perhaps, the remnants of two groups that did not fare so well on our own." he says, gesturing towards Samaritha and Lothan, "The lady-mage and her husband joined us after we arrived on the island, and have proven quite handy, although their previous companions have, sadly, passed on..."

Mordecai places no special emphasis on naming Lothan as Samaritha's husband, but shoots the pair a pointed look, as he describes them so.

"I offer my services as priest and healer, although my faith in the Pale Lady has left me quite familiar with digging graves, and I would be willing to assist in digging trenchworks, if that is required to shore up your commendable defensive perimeter."

I find myself in the un-characteristic position of cautioning against an unecessary bloodbath. Mordecai says in a low tone, attempting to avoid speaking loudly enough that anyone lurking nearby may hear, appearing somewhat nonplussed at the direction the conversation has taken. I do not object to killing these men so that we do not have to share the spoils with them, but I am not sure that this is the wisest moment to take this action...

Perhaps we should have some sort of vote? Some are in favor of immediate attack, some in favor of combinging forces with them, at least temporarily, and at least one in favor of making our own campsite and avoiding them entirely...

"I would prefer not to fight them, at least, not yet. The island seems to have dangers enough, without us creating additional enemies." Mordecai says, although it is hard to tell whether he is serious, or just interested in skipping a fight and sitting down next to a fire and having a cup of whatever they're having.

"Indeed, we would be interested in joining forces. We encountered a number of the tentacle hounds and wormtongue zombies at the lighthouse, but the building was destroyed in the ensuing fight, leaving us with no roof over our heads." Mordecai says, gesturing towards the tents set up in the encampment, as he continues, "Your expedition seems far better prepared, for such circumstances, having brought your own accommodations. A credit to your foresight."

Mordecai steps forward, weapon at his belt, and hand upraised to show that he is not holding a weapon. "Greetings, gentlemen! We don't want any trouble! This island seems dangerous enough, don't you think?"

Diplomacy to try and start off on the right foot. Take 10, for a 20, if possible, otherwise... 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

"We might as well present ourselves, and take advantage of what hospitality they offer. Of the groups sent here, they seem the only ones to have successfully fended off the tentacle-hounds." Mordecai says, attempting to sound reasonable.

And if they attack us, we can accidentally kill them all while 'defending ourselves'... he thinks, practically.

As Lecian and Lothan already seem disposed to follow Kuva, Mordecai shrugs and follows, saying quietly to Tyrrol and Samaritha, "Best to stay together, in strategem or in folly."

Perception check to keep track of where Kuva is going, if possible. It wouldn't do to attempt to 'follow' him and go the complete wrong way... 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

"Assuming he doesn't completely vanish...", Mordecai mutters, taken aback by the small warrior's gift for evading detection.

His dagger having swooped gracefully back to his hand, Mordecai sheathes it and retrieves his morningstar.

"Does anyone require healing?" he asks as he steps to the nearest fallen body and uses his morningstar to make sure that the worm-creature within it is well and truly dead by smashing its skull.

Mordecai targets whichever zombie still stands (although he suspects that the grim warrior Tyrrol will need no assistance from his blade). Again the curved Osirioni blade swoops in a slashing arc, attempting to cleave meat from bone.

hand of the acolyte powered dagger attack 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
slashing damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Welsh for Aklo? Inspired!

Mordecai drops his morningstar and steps back a pace, drawing his dagger and calling upon the goddess again, to bring unholy life to the blade and carry it upon the dead winds to one of the damaged creatures.

hand of the acolyte powered dagger attack on either the one attacking Kuva or the one attacking Tyrrol, whichever is still up 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
slashing damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Mordecai releases his morningstar, carried on the spectral energies of the death-goddess, to strike at the same creature that Kuva is attacking.

hand of the acolyte-powered morningstar attack 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
B/P damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

The morningstar hurtles back into his grasp with an audible smack.

Initiative 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Mordecai tightens his grip on his morningstar and shield and braces for combat.

@Mordecai: Tyrrol still has half a dozen bottles of fine wine; although he does not have a taste for it himself, I am sure that a suitable... arrangement... could be made to transfer custody of them ;-)

Given a choice between having a bottle of wine and having something to complain about, Mordecai would much rather have something to complain about. :)

"Is it impolitic to suggest that we allow Zincher's men to gather up the starmetal, and then kill them and take it?" Mordecai says, plastering an un-convincing grin on his face, in case he has to pretend that was a joke, and not a real suggestion.

Edit: Ha, I lie! Mordecai didn't prep detect magic today!

Mordecai intones a brief prayer to his Pale Lady and peers appraisingly at the longsword in Lothan's hand.

guidance-assisted Appraise check 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

"The blade seems fine enough, at least the equal of your own. Does it bear an enchantment?"

Mordecai weighs the alternative of traipsing around with the burly warriors and sitting down and having some breakfast, and there's no comparison. He sits quietly as the arcanists study and nibbles on the various barely-edible scraps of cowhide and sawdust that are sold as 'rations' in this backwater.

Mordecai awakens and faces away from the others to make his morning prayers to his goddess. He is comforted by the feeling of her dark power once again refueled and nestling within his flesh, but irked by the necessity of calling for the energies of life, to keep his flesh and blood companions alive another day. Samaritha, in particular, has earned his ire. Why did the spirit choose the mage-ess, Dark Lady? Am I not more worthy of your deathless grace? Or do you have a greater destiny in mind for me...

Swapping out mending for stabilize, adding one more cure light wounds, dropping shield other and prepping three lesser restorations.

He turns, business-like, leaving his holy symbol exposed on his breast, no longer concerned at the attention it would draw in Riddleport, and casts magics to purge the darkness from Samaritha's bones, unworthy to have known such intimacy with death... He imagines himself drawing the dark energies of death from her, like poison from a wound, to pass into his own body, already accustomed to their kiss.

Lesser restoration to restore 1d4 Con, she should have gotten 1 back overnight, as well. 1d4 ⇒ 3

"I will not be able to cure what ails her until tomorrow, at the earliest." Mordecai replies to Lothan, before directly addressing Samaritha, "Simply try to get some rest."

Mordecai wracks his brain to try and figure out if this is the sort of undead creature that reforms the next night...

Knowledge (religion) 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

He shakes his head, having concluded that it might have been a haunt or something and not undead at all.

"Does anyone require healing before I retire?" he says, absently, the positives energies of that last cure light wounds still glimmering at the tip of his wand, waiting to be discharged.

Initiative 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Mordecai, sadly, is facing in the exact wrong direction...

"Everyone keep your eyes open and weapons readied. It can come from any wall, or from the very ground beneath our feet, and we may have only a moment to strike it."

To Samaritha, he adds, "I have heard of some undead that are bound to locations, but this is no tomb-bound mummy, so there might be no point to attempting to run from a tireless foe that can swim beneath the ground, unhindered by terrain or darkness, striking us down one by one as we flee."

Mordecai activates his wand of cure light wounds another time as he speaks, and 'holds the charge,' intending to touch the creature if it comes within arm's length of him, and give it a taste of positive energy.

Ready action to zap the ghosty, if it comes close enough for him to step and zap.

"Everyone be ready to strike when it appears." Mordecai cautions, "Surround Samaritha, in case the creature attacks her again..." he adds.

At the moment, Samaritha still appears to be the one most in need of bolstering, so Mordecai continues to heal her, determined that *this* mage isn't going to die, like the one's in the tower. It's become a point of pride. Death comes on his terms, or not at all!

wand of cure light wounds on Samaritha 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Mordecai follows Samaritha's retreat, attempting to interpose himself between her and the angry spirit. He activates his wand, attempting to stave off her decline, as he fears that she will rise and join the creature, if it succeeds in devouring her life.

cure light wounds on Samaritha again 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Mordecai activates his wand and steps forward to deliver a touch to Samaritha.

cure light wounds 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Same action, since he's assuming that magic weapons will be needed to hurt this creature.

Recognizing the creature, Mordecai says, "It's a wraith, it's touch can kill and sunlight renders it powerless. It was waiting for nightfall..."

Initiative 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
Knowledge Religion 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

"Awaken!" Mordecai shouts, leaping to his feet, "The undead attacks!"

He readies an action to cast magic weapon on Lothan's longsword, if the man wakes.

No reason casting it if he doesn't!

As the rest of the party tries to settle into sleep, Mordecai scans the room. In a shaded corner the cleric sees the haunt's head rise above the floor. It looks around, snarls silently, and ducks below the flagstones.

Mordecai attempts to speak to the spectral form in a whisper before it disappears, "What do you want, deathless one." He produces his holy symbol to Urgathoa, and, if the spirit lingers, attempts to find out what drives it, what needs or hungers it seeks to sate.

Diplomacy 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

First time in history someone has attempted diplomacy with a ghost? Who knows!

Lecian needs lesser restoration.

Zap goes the lesser restoration, 1d4 pts of ability damage cured. 1d4 ⇒ 3

Cure light wounds for Kuva, before he goes to sleep. I'm not poking a sleeping barbarian!

1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Lothan could use one of those. Was down a bit more than I thought.

cure light wounds from wand on Lothan 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

"Myself and Lecian should take first and last watch, respectively, so that we can prepare our own magics for the coming day," Mordecai says quietly, so as not to disturb Samaritha. He draws his wand of cure light wounds, and expends a charge on Lecian, and, again, checks the others for signs of injury that they've failed to mention.

Already done the Heal check thing, quite some time ago. Speak up if anyone needs a cure light wounds or lesser restoration!

cure light wounds on Lecian 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

He shakes the wand, disappointed, having expected more...

"I will wake Kuva for the second watch, he can wake Lothan, then Lothan can wake Tyrol, leaving Lecian and Samaritha for last watch. A couple hours on watch apiece should be fine"

"The creature itself seems to be in no hurry to leave the protection of the stone to engage us. Unless you have the means to go into the stone and take the fight to it, I suspect we simply *cannot* kill it, at this time, Kuva." Mordecai says. "It's not a question of courage, it's a question of ability."

"I am loathe to disturb the rest of this spirit, as well." Mordecai says, readying his morningstar, which he fears may be useless in the upcoming confrontation. "Those who have defeated death itself are rarely easy foes..."

Sorry for the unscheduled absence, stuck in the boonies without internet last week!

"If this site is not defensible, we can set course for the crater site, and see what we can find." Mordecai says, not impressed with the potential of these walls to hold anything at bay, tentacle-hound or more human-shaped threat.

"Although it might be easier to let the other expeditions do the lion's share of the work gathering and transporting the ore, and just kill them..." he says quietly to Tyrrol.

Perception 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

Fauna is primarily seabirds and crabs.

"Mmm. Crabs. Reminds me of a girl I knew once..." Mordecai mutters, and then starts and stammers a clarification, "Uh, that came out wrong. We ate a ton of crab one night and got really sick..."

Mordecai nods to Samaritha and looks to the tower, and the fallen men within, speaking a brief eulogy. "All-Seeing Eye, look upon those who followed your two-fold path, and open their eyes to your kingdom. Do not let them wander in the night alone. Let the Song of the Spheres direct her chosen to his proper place in the heavens, there to dance among the stars for all time."

He turns and shoulders his pack, "Have we determined our path? If the crater be on our route to another tower, or defensible place, so much the better."

Mordecai looks back to the tower, waves lapping against its fallen length, and is struck by a moment of humor. He quickly puts that thought away and turns to Samaritha. "Know you of the faiths that those poor apprentices followed in life, milady? This world has unquiet spirits enough, who were not shown proper respect upon dying, and I would have them speed swiftly to their proper rest."

Having those fodder return as angry haunts would make further plunder more difficult, in any event, if we find it necessary to return to this place... he thinks to himself.

What other mundane supplies do people just want to 'discover?'

"A keg of brandy, would be lovely, if there's such a thing over there!" Mordecai calls out, as the others prepare items to be 'zip-lined' over from the tower.

In a more conversational tone, he says to Tyrrol, "If nothing else, we can use it to set something on fire..."

As Kuva surges forth from the surf as if born to the sea, Mordecai smiles and takes hold of him and the rope. "Not even the ocean can wrestle a warrior like yourself. She spits you forth and admits defeat!"

He assists in bracing the rope so that gear can be sent along it, once the plan is clear.

Well, if there is mundane gear available, how about wrapping non-waterproof items in some waterproof bags? ;-)

Or they could build a raft from one of the wooden doors or something, not for themselves, but just large enough to carry the goods and be dragged by rope, and stack the stuff they don't mind getting wet on the bottom.

Mordecai alternates between checking the bluffs for more tentacle-dog things, and the tower for signs of their companions returning.

Back on the shore, Mordecai makes a futile attempt at wringing out his shirt while nattering on about life at the Golden Goblin;

..."and then she hikes up her skirt a little bit, to reveal a pox-marked expanse of thigh the color of a dead fish, and says, 'maybe we could work something out' before I had the bouncer throw her, and her wastrel spawn, out the door."

"Seriously, the things people will do to get out of a gambling debt. His own mother!"

Mordecai raises an eyebrow as Lecian leaps in to offer his assistance.

"Didn't see that coming."

He takes a drink from his waterskin, and then spits it out, washing out the taste of saltwater laced with dissolving tentacle-headed dog-thing.

"It's always the quiet ones that surprise you." he adds, wiping his lips, and silently regretting giving the rest of the wine to the ship captain as a parting gift.

Mordecai casts guidance on Kuva, before the small warrior sets forth.

+1 to next check within 1 minute, which will likely be a Swim check.

"You may wish to toss a line to Lothan's pretty girlfriend, Tyrrol, she seems to be floundering." he says dryly, showing no inclination to swim out to save her.

Mordecai is still pissy that he expended healing on the baby cyphermages, and the ingrates died anyway. The nerve of them! Don't they realize how much their horrible deaths have inconvenienced him?