Aivar is incapable of *not* taking him prisoner and giving him a fair chance at a trial ... and possibly a second chance. Shelyn's code of honor and all that.
Aivar needs a moment to process all that just happened: a magical web, a blinding burst of radiance, and then a wave of calming magicks that puts those affected to sleep. A loud rumbling then makes him jump as, out of nowhere, a fierce-looking earth elemental plops into existence.
He then drops his weapon and, as far as the web allows him, Aivar moves up to the werewolf. "I have no idea if our conventional restraints are enough to keep him in check, but we must try. If we can prevent further bloodshed, we must."
No one brought along manacles, right? Aivar can use a rope to tie the man up like he's a Christmas meat roll and hang him over his horse.
Arianna is thrown into shock at first when the werewolf just drops asleep on the spot, so much so that she doesn't react at first.
"I...oh, hell. Give me that," she says. She takes the rope herself and ties the werewolf's hands, very snug to keep him bound but trying not to cut off circulation.
The task she was given was vague at best, but she believes that it is her responsibility to ensure the safety of prisoners in her care.
Flexing Improved Grapple, per the grapple rules I can Tie Up a helpless opponent. With the feat, escaping the bonds requires an escape artist check with DC 28
"I'm going to wake him. If this is what's happening we'll do it right. Damn it, I should have said something as we approached, but there's no changing that."
Nariel commanded her elemental to standby the beast, ready for when it awoke.
"Aivar, when it awakes, you will need arrest him. We can arraign him later, formally charging him with the murder of Merrim." Glancing at the sleeping werewolf, Nariel sighs adding "I would not be surprised if there are other unsolved murders this man is responsible for in the vacinity."
Arianna pauses to listen to Nariel, closes her eyes, and sucks in a breath. "Nariel, when you were in the service of House Lebeda, did the late Baron ever arrest a criminal, personally? What about Dame Sarrona? My family was all servants, so maybe I'm wrong, but I really doubt they did, because things like that were..." She makes a look of disgust. "It was beneath them. Things like this is the job of myself and Yuri."
She checks the knot again. "I also want to point out that we don't have the means to imprison someone, let alone a werewolf. If Aivar--if Lord Kurisyl," she emphasizes, "Wants the werewolf to have a trial, then I will do my utmost to make sure that happens. But the werewolf will need to be transported to Nivatka's Crossing tonight."
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
The werewolf, not being dead, remains in its bipedal wolflike form even as it slumbers under Tristan's spell. Arianna manages to get her knots around the wolf-man's form before he awakes again.
In the meantime a search of his luggage reveals, at the bottom of his pack, among the many tools of the trapper's trade, a stained roll of cloth that unravels to reveal its grisly trophies: many, many sets of humanoid ears (all left-sided) in various states of shrivelled age. A still-fresh ear (Merrim's) bobs pathetically within a jar of preserving fluid - his most recent 'acquisition.'
A low, rumbling growl tells you that your captive has regained consciousness. He snarls as he tests the binding and finds he is held securely: "Rrrrelease me, and find your death! I smell you..." His snout rises disdainfully as he looks at each of you. "You rrrrreek of fear. Pathetic. Let me rrrrrrise up and I will feast on you!"
His jaws open and his tongue lolls out in a sort of leer as he snaps at Arianna as she checks the knot. "Such soft, sweet, juicy flesh, let me rrrrrend, let me tear it!" Another, low, growl that might almost be a chuckling laugh. "Of course, you're a little old, a little rrrrrripe, for my taste..."
This character was invented for my tabletop group - it's kind of hard to transliterate the snarling but I hope the rrrrrr's give you an idea of the rest of it
Upon the discovery of Merrim's ear, Raquel staggers a few yards away, falls to her knees, and promptly vomits on the side of the road. She dry heaves a few times before wiping her mouth.
When the werewolf starts to taunt Arianna, she growls with rage. "By all that is good and holy, this monster needs to die. He's a bandit, right? The punishment for unrepentant banditry is death."
"That is... a lot of trophies. I hope none of the others were from our people," Tristan says as he eyes them. Do any of them look recent enough?
Tristan watches warily as the creature tests its bonds. "Your diplomacy needs works, murderer."
The bloodthirsty words and evidence of wrongdoing is certainly enough to convince him. "I don't think we need to hear any more, really. This thing wasn't part of anything. Just another mangy poacher."
Bluff: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30 Try to goad it into spilling some info on whether or not it works for/with The Queen or some other enemy. I think Bluff would be the right roll?
Slowly turning her head towards Arianna, Nariel retorts in a dispassionate, yet ever so slightly choleric tone "That is a spurious comparison Arianna; this is not Silverhall, and Lord Kurisyl is decidedly not Baron Lebeda or Dame Sarona." Taking a deep breath, Nariel paused before adding in a more conciliatory fashion "That being said, you are correct... arrest power does fall within the powers of the Warden."
Watching the unrepentant beast goad Arianna and Tristan's interrogation, the elvan wizard succumbed to a measure guilt that silenced her. Stepping back and placing her hand over on her head, Nariel's thoughts began to race and conflict Why did I open my mouth in favor of a trial? Some abstract principle of justice and morality? Raquel is rightfully upset... and this creature is clearly beyond redemption; the expedient thing to have done was say nothing... when am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut?
Ah doubt; wish this thing would've past its save... would've been easier. That said, the role play on this moral quandary is kinda fun.
Sasha sheathes her blade, the fight over before it even really began. She grimaces when the ears are discovered, but tries to help Tristan with his ploy. "Yes, a symptom of the untamed wilds. Could have just as easily been a coyote or a wild dog."
Assist Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
"Abadar grant me patience," Arianna says quietly. She wants to smash the werewolf's face against the ground and claim it was an accident, she wants to open the werewolf's throat with her knife, she wants to get angry at anybody, but she doesn't. Instead, she speaks very clearly. "I'm placing you under arrest, on suspicion of--of serial murder. God what am I going to tell the poor bastards at Nivatka's Crossing..."
"Given their track record with justice, make sure you don't tell them the truth. If they know he's a remorseless mass killer, they'll just employ him," Tristan remarks. "Though given his ineptitude at slipping away from us, perhaps that would help expose them just as well."
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
Ai,Ar,N,R,S,T,W: 7d20 ⇒ (3, 9, 5, 4, 12, 1, 20) = 54
"Mur-murder? No, no, surely not..." As you watch, the hulking wolf-like creature shrinks in upon itself, replaced by a much smaller (although still burly) utterly naked Ulfen man with ragged hair and an unkempt beard.
He squints at you, apparently confused. "Good sirs, what seems to be the problem? And wh-why am I tied up? And where are my clothes?! HELP, HELP, THIEVES, FIRE, MURDER!!!!"
Realizing that the effects of lycanthropy were perhaps subsiding, Nariel stepped forward and knelt down close enough to speak calmly to the ulfen man, but not close enough to be in any danger. Instructing her elemental near to her to intercept in the event the man managed to brake his shackles, Nariel spoke calmly and rationally to the man to explain the situation. "Sir, you have been placed under arrest by the Warden of Thornmark. You are not in any danger, and we will provide you clothing and cover. You have been infected with lycanthropy, a condition that causes your body to take the form of canis lupis under certain lunar conditions; more succinctly, you are werewolf."
Pointing to the ear trophies, Nariel adds "That is the evidence of homicides you have committed, you are to be transported for trial. Do you have any questions about your situation?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Going to try and calm him down, but in a rational and dispassionate manner. I don't believe him though, the innocent what seems to be going on here act... the ears seems contrary to that.
I don't care how good your diplomacy roll is, if telling him he murdered a lot of people and show him a bag of pickled left ears actually succeeds in calming him down, I will be shocked and amazed
Arianna watches in wonder, but also checks to make sure the rope doesn't come loose with the transformation. She looks upon the werewolf with suspicion evident, but there's also some irritation aimed squarely at Nariel.
sense motive: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 6 + (4) = 14 looking at the werewolf, is this an act?
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27
Raquel narrows her eyes, not trusting this man for a second.
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
I already rolled SM for you all and it didn't give you anything. Make of that what you will :)
The man ignores Nariel and continues screaming blue murder all the way back into town, drawing a certain amount of attention from the gathering crowds...
OK, someone needs to roll a Loyalty check
Loyalty: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29
Raquel does her best to play her role of councilor and calm the peoples' concerns, despite the ones she harbors herself.
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
Despite - or perhaps because of - the internal turmoil and distress she is feeling, Raquel is able to win the sympathy of the crowd. One particularly burly farmer looks at you, and then at the still-shouting captive. "Is that 'im, then? That's the one as killed that girl? I'va got some cloth 'ere, if you'd like to hush his noise." He pulls out a none-too-clean pocket kerchief from the recesses of his smock; half a dozen others do likewise.
"Do it slow, like!"
"Yeah, death's too good fer the likes of 'im!"
News of your loss has obviously got around and (for now, at least) the townsfolk are strongly on your side.
Raquel is sorely tempted by the townsfolk's offers, but she knows better than to undermine the authority of the graf. She looks to Aivar to declare his intentions for the murderous werewolf.
Tristan just looks coldly on the 'man' as he transforms and - perhaps feigning - calls for help. Was it an act? It seemed genuine enough, but Tristan had known many skilled liars in his life. He looks at his companions and shrugs, then watches in bemusement as Nariel takes an interesting tact in dealing with the culprit's bewilderment.
Do such creatures know what they do as the wolf? Do they remember? Are they in control? Or is the wolf truly another creature entire, with its own mind and desires?
An inkling of a song began to grow in Tristan's head, but he shook it away. Now was no time for his head to be clouded with lyrics and music. There was important work at hand - even though Tristan was very glad the decision did not fall on him.
The graf had heard it a hundred times before. Perhaps not a hundred, but a number well into the dozens, sure. Impatient voices asking for death to be met with more death. Knowing what is expected from him, Aivar, in turn, greets the world around him with a stoic look and brings his horse to a halt. "I understand your impatience, I do, but please! Have no fear! Justice will not escape this man."
In a sense, Aivar can't help but feel that justice escaped a long time ago. Whether it was at the point in time when the man was afflicted with this horrible curse, or later, once the curse had taken his mind and dignity, he isn't sure. "What matters right now is that we caught him. Please, go home and be with your loved ones. Say a prayer to those we lost and ask the Good Gods to guide their souls safely to Pharasma. Now, I must deal with this man."
With that said, Aivar nudges his horse forward by gently pressing his heels against his flanks.
Diplomacy to try and prevent a lynching?: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34
Watching Aivar handle the crowd aptly, Nariel couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and respect. After the crowd finally dispersed, Nariel moved in beside the Graf and quietly congratulated him "Well done Aivar; you clearly have a gift for leadership; that crowd wanted blood and you brought them back from the brink."
Looking over at the prisoner, Nariel curled her lip in disgust as he reverted to form, the pretense of innocence clearly dropped "Tanya naa mani amin nowe."
Raquel nods in agreement with Nariel. "Of course. He is a villain and a monster and he will pay for what he did to Merrim." She glares at the werewolf with cold fury and then turns away before he can see the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Get this thing out of our town. I need a drink." She walks off to the tavern.
"And let's not forget the rest of his victims. I imagine the hells will be having a bidding war for this wretch's soul - if he still has one."
"And to think you almost had me fooled!" Arianna says in wonder, and pushes the werewolf forward. "Move it."
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
"It's alright, I've got him." Kesten Garess walks forward, and grasps the prisoner firmly by the arm in one armoured gauntlet. His voice is measured, but his face is set in an expression of tranquil fury. "By the Goddess, I've never yet harmed a prisoner while he was bound, and I don't intend to start now. But I have to admit, I'm tempted." He drags the man almost off his feet. "Let's get you to the blacksmith so we can fit some proper restraints." The Ulfen snarls in protest, but isn't in a position to do anything against a fully-armoured warrior.
"Yeah? I ain't got no problem stabbin' someone when they're tied up. Best time to do it, right?" Eva appears on the scene, her face red as she glares at Yuri and Karinna, who are standing prudently close to her on each side.
She looks beseechingly at Aivar: "C'mon, five minutes with him, that's all I'm askin' for. Five minutes an' a dagger. I'll leave him alive, don't worry, I'm just gonna, you know... make him sorry. Fair's fair, right?"
Karinna's expression is carefully neutral. "Obviously, I don't approve of that little plan. But nobody would blame you, my Lord, if you decided to carry out justice here and now. The status of such creatures under the law is not clear-cut. If you decided to rule that he has none of the usual protections afforded to - to normal people, for want of a better word - nobody would gainsay you."
Yuri (who, like Kesten, is more comfortable with procedure) looks slightly uneasy. "That's fine, although you'd then be setting a precedent that could haunt us in future. But it's your decision, My Lord." He bows, while doing his best to keep a cautious eye on Eva.
Everyone loves a proper system that protects and serves, but the moment the system forcefully inhibits one's urges and emotional outbursts said system is often given the finger. The paladin has seen loving mothers turn into rabid beasts at public trials and thanks to that, he isn't entirely fazed by what's going on.
Still, Aivar feels how his sense of self is starting to crumble under the weight of his friends and companions' emotional demands. They're not just anyone. But he sticks to what not just feels right to him, but is right. "This man, or whatever is left of him, will face justice, but it won't be in the way of my glaive. He will be brought to the closest magistrate and, yes, I am sure that the magistrate will come up with a punishment befitting his crimes. What matters for us is that the threat has been dealt with so that we can turn to thoughts of those who we lost. They deserve better than for our hearts to be dominated by hate."
Now isn't the time to tell them of the thoughts he has of dedicating a bed of flowers or an orchard in the upcoming mansion's garden to Merrim and all the others they've lost, but the thought helps the paladin to keep the hate at bay.
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
Eva gives Aivar an odd look (sort of, equal parts respect mixed with annoyance) before spinning on her heel and following Raquel to the tavern. "Fine. In that case, I'm gonna go get drunk."
Jhod gives her a sympathetic glance as she storms away, before returning his gaze to Aivar. "Aye, I think tha does right in sending yon beast before the courts. I can draw up the charges and affidavits, and I'm sure My Lords Garess and Wenislaus would do escort duties. I've no doubt tha place is here, with the people - and tha friends - as they come to terms with what's taken place here."
He shuffles the papers between his hands, clearly keen to get going. "I've done one too many funerals, of late. I trust tha'll accept if I take a leave of absence for this one."
Raquel orders a stiff shot of hard liquor, and when Eva sits beside her, gets a second one for her. "Cheers, love. Here's to drowning our feelings in alcohol."
Sasha remains behind, crossing her arms and fixing Aivar with a sad smile. "If you want my opinion, you made the right choice. Vengeance might feel good in the moment, but its a destructive cycle to go down. I've been on both ends of it."
Nodding with Sasha, Nariel added "Well put Sasha. Furthermore, I believe Yuri has the right of it; setting the wrong precedent here could come back to haunt us in the future." Sighing lightly, Nariel spoke more solemnly "Still, I will admit some hesitation at the thought of sending him to Nivatka's Crossing given our history with them."
Shrugging as though trying to dispel an unpleasant thought, Nariel followed after Raquel and Eva "Care if I join you for awhile? Allow me to buy the first round Raquel, I think after all of this that you very much deserve it." Nariel smiled warmly and sincerely, and motioned toward the Inn.
Raquel nods. "I'll never turn down free booze. Come, sit, wallow in our misery."
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
4 ARODUS (VIII) 4719
It's a sombre night in the Inn of the Swooping Shrike. Karl, the proprietor, wordlessly keeps the group's drinks topped up, repeatedly waving away any proffered payment ("No, no, this one's on me") as the townsfolk and people from the nearest of the outlying farmsteads come by to murmur and quietly pay their respects to a girl who turns out to have (in an unobtrusive way) been generally well-liked. The air is thick with sympathy - or maybe it's just a haze of alcohol.
Happy to move this foward, but it seems like a good opportunity for some quality RP so I'm going to hold for now
Opening it, you find yourself faced with Eva, much the worse for drink (judging by the smell, her poison of choice is strong liquor). She holds a hand up before you can get a word in. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna make another 'offer', I bin talking to Jhod an' he told me 'bout your goddess and 'ow you don't believe in sleepin' around, made me realise I pretty much dun the worst fing I could've to get yer attention, but that's, that's..."
She waves one hand. "That ain't the point I wanna get into right now, well, sort of, I mean, how. How. How do you stay, I dunno, so good? I mean, this. This is a pretty f***in' terrible world, right, we seen that today, I liked her, I ain't never had many friends but I liked her, an' that, that THING just took her like, like she dint even matter. An' you, you dint give in, didja?"
She takes a shaky breath. "I mean, I woulda had it die screamin' but you said, no, we ain't gonna do it it like that, an' I could see you was right, I just you know, didn't wanna. So I'm glad you was there to make us do it right, I just..." Her voice is small. "I just hope that this world don't drag you into badness with the rest of us."
She leans up and plants a kiss against Aivar's lips. "Stay good, 'kay?"
Her lips taste fiery, although that might have something to do with the aforementioned liquor.
As the evening passes, Raquel gets progressively drunker. She tells funny stories about the spunky Merrim and raises her voice in song in her honor. When Eva stumbles off with a gleam in her eye, the cleric sighs wistfully, envying the fun she's about to have.
Several cups in, Raquel leans her head on Nariel's shoulder. "She was taken from us far too soon. I could have done more. I should have done more to protect her. I can only hope she's raising a mug with Cayden in Elysium now, free of pain and worry."
She sighs. "She wouldn't want us to be sad like this. She'd say, 'get off yer ass and go live yer life.' So that's what I'm gonna do. Starting tomorrow."
Raquel looks up at Nariel with a gleam in her eyes. "Sweet barleybrew, but you're beautiful. I really want to kiss you right now. I won't, because I'm a good friend, and I respect the boundaries we've established. But I want to."
Tristan does not join his companions in the bar. His mind doesn't call out for drink, but for the consolation of music, of composition and creation. All the frustrations and anxieties of their recent problems could be alleviated if he could just find the right words, the right chords, to make other understand them as well.
Tristan, as is his wont, goes hermit for a bit and writes some music.
While the evening festivities continued on, Nariel did her best to be good company for Raquel, though drinking to excess in public always led to a certain degree of discomfiture for Nariel. As such, she kept the drinking to a minimum and kept a sober and watchful eye over Raquel.
Raquel was clearly in pain, so Nariel did her best to provide some comfort "There was nothing you could have done Raquel, such was the tragedy of this horrid circumstance. If it is any consolation to you though, I believe you are right... she is in a better place now," pausing, Nariel laughed lightly and smiled "she may even be, as you say, sharing a pint with Cayden himself."
Recognizing that gleam, Nariel smiled wistfully as she set her mug down. Placing her right hand on Raquel's shoulder, Nariel stood up and kissed her gently on the top of her head in friendly though endearing manner "I know Raquel, I know, and I do appreciate your candor." Grabbing Raquel's [likely] empty mug, Nariel turned to Raquel "Hey listen, one more round, and then I am going to turn in I think. We should all get some sleep perhaps, it has been a trying several days."
Raquel smiles at Nariel's gentle kiss and snuggles closer against the elf. "Okay," she says. "I'm just gonna rest my eyes here for a bit..."
The cleric is soon snoring steadily.
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
5-9 ARODUS (VIII) 4719
Slowly, life returns to normal in Thornhold: Merrim is buried in a small ceremony and gradually the shock of the attack against the small community wears off. The speed with which the perpetrator was apprehended, as well as Aivar's fair conduct towards him, goes a long way to restoring a measure of trust.
Unrest is halved. It now stands at 2
Kesten and Yuri transport the manacled prisoner up to Nivatka's Crossing, accompanied by Jhod who will submit the depositions and indictment. The rest of you continue in your labours of running the town and the province, and the outline of the new mansion starts to take shape down by the river.
Last chance to do any shopping/last-minute roleplay before you head off into the wilderness once more
Stay good The words knocked the wind right out of him, leaving him helpless against her lips. Like a sigh, the moment passes, and Aivar finds himself staring at Eva with a sense of bewilderment. The asymmetrical nature of the woman never ceases to amaze him. Could she truly not do anything in a straight-forward and, Gods forgive me for thinking it, normal manner?
"I ... I don't know what to say. Should I vow to you that I won't ever fall? Promise you I won't ever stumble? No, I should just shut up and take that kiss with me to bed." Per usual, the desire to shut up only causes more words and thoughts to bubble to the surface - or, his lips. "Worries and doubts always come at night, but telling them to, excuse my Galt, piss off is significantly easier when your trust has my back."
For a man without a woman in his life, Aivar desperately so props up his faith in himself by aspiring to be the best and do the best he can for the fairer sex. Especially so one woman in particular, one who won't ever be in his life. Whether that's Shelyn or his sister, he dares not to consider. [i]Perhaps ... [i] No! "Good night, Eva, and thank you, thank you ... for this."
On shopping: I suppose we ought to restock on anti-swarm wares? I'm not sure what else we're low on and or lacking that is within our means (read: money) to acquire.
Raquel busies herself with her leadership duties to try to avoid dwelling on Merrim's death. Fortunately, Cayden Cailean seems pleased with the cleric's devotion, and she finds herself be able to invoke prayers of greater power, including one that can grant somebody the power of flight! The priestess sends several minutes each night soaring through the sky with breathless exhilaration, feeling free as she flies high above all worldly concerns.
When the time comes to set out again, Raquel is eager to get back to exploration.
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
10-15 ARODUS (VIII) 4719
Your travel through the hills of the Greenbelt (as this part of the Stolen Lands is known) is unhindered and you reach the (relative) cooler shade of the Narlmarches without incident, disappearing beneath the canopy of the ancient forest. Despite the blazing Arodus sun, the light here seems dim, almost other-worldly. The heat however remains: the air is still, lifeless, apart from the ever-present midges.
You easily pick up the exploration where you left off, at the den of the river-drakes. The natural crossing here makes travel much easier, although as you travel South you are forced to pick one side of the river at a time: this far from its headwaters the Skunk River has long-since lost its sulphurous smell, but it is swift, wide and fast-flowing. Trying to cross it would be a treacherous endeavour, even for the hardiest swimmer.
Hex M7 explored!
16 ARODUS (VIII) 4719
Ai,Ar,N,R,S,T: 6d20 ⇒ (12, 8, 10, 12, 8, 11) = 61
Random attacks: 3d6 ⇒ (4, 3, 6) = 13
v Flat footed AC
Branch v R: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 13
Branch v N: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (3, 3) + 6 = 12
Branch v T: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Damage: 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 = 8
Following the river as it turns Eastwards, you quickly surmise that the Skunk will feed into the vast lake that forms a feature of this part of the land, although the tree-line makes it difficult to see much beyond thirty feet or so, much less the horizon.
Shortly after midday, you catch a scent on the faint breeze: not the sulphur of the Skunk headwaters, something both sweeter and fouler - rotting flesh. Pursuing the smell means heading in to where the trees grow thicker, denser. Leaving the horses behind, you proceed on foot into a clearing thick with moss; and bones. This last you discover when Aivar's armoured foot goes straight through the mossy covering and shatters a humanoid skull with a crunch.
Only Nariel, with her more than human perception, spots the hazard, although she is too slow to evade it as three of the vast trees seem to come alive, threshing at you with razor-sharp branches! Nariel, Raquel and Tristan are all wounded before they can even act.
Nariel gets to act in the Surprise Round (one standard or move action); then everyone (including Nariel) gets a full round of actions; and then the trees go again.
"Argh! The trees are angry!" Raquel shouts. She channels healing energy.
Channel Energy: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 2) = 7
Adoration is a mind-affecting effect so it doesn't work on plants. :(
Aivar visibly winces as the brittle skull shatters underneath his plated boot. "Erastil fend! Even the plants in these lands have been corrupted."
Swift action: smite Red (if applicable?! +2 to hit and +5 damage, which I have not added to the numbers below)
Full-round action: attack Red (haste, power attack, smite)
Attack 1: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18
Damage 1: 1d10 + 16 ⇒ (9) + 16 = 25
Attack 2: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27
Damage 2: 1d10 + 16 ⇒ (8) + 16 = 24
Current AC & CMD vs Red is 24 (+2 to Deflection, +1 Dodge from Haste)
Entering the denser forest, Nariel's spirits appeared to be uplifted. Taking a deep breath, she looked about her with a small degree of wonder "I love it here, it feels more like home than anywhere we have been." As they traverse through the woods, Nariel explores more than usual, investigating different types of fauna, observing the wildlife... almost frolicking though her day.
Elves frolicking in the woods, how apropos.
As they approach the woods, Nariel suddenly grows cautious. While Kyonin was a place of beauty and magical majesty, it also was filled with danger, something every elf was taught to be on the lookout for at all times; the Narlmarches as it turns out were no different.
"Everyone, the trees are alive. Arm yourselves!" As the trees lashed out against Raquel, Tristan and herself, Nariel screamed out but kept her wits about her enough to act. Quickly producing what appeared to be some kind of dried out root from her belt pouch, Nariel murmured an incantation never heard before by the others; suddenly, everyone felt quicker on their feet.
Suprise round will be to cast extended Haste on everyone but myself. The spell works best on those who are in melee combat, and that is never Nariel.
Realizing that the best thing for her to do was extract herself from combat, Nariel decided to disappear... literally. Looking to her companions, Nariel added "I will be with you, do not be alarmed." With that, Nariel attempted to cast another spell, but with the imposing trees looming over them, she fumbled a component and cursed to herself. Take a step back, Nariel suddenly appeared close to Tristan in a bid to extract herself from the danger zone.
See my edits in the discussion, forgot to add in that she was casting defensively.
know nature: 1d20 + 9 + 1d6 ⇒ (19) + 9 + (3) = 31 attempting to identify
As the trees lurch to life, Arianna is calculating in her head, and what her calculations come up with is that she is within reach of the trees' furthest branches. The air around her ripples with the influence of her new extract, and that bolsters her confidence...
acro to tumble: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Maybe too much so. She comes out past Aivar and downs another extract, this one enhancing her shield.
AC 22 vs AoOs from moving, AC 25 after taking Shield extract. Under Ablative Barrier which has duration of 4 hours
|Wandering GM Wastrel|
Arianna identifies your attackers as scythe trees: malevolent plant creatures found in heavily forested areas where they naturally blend in with normal trees. Scythe trees are carnivorous by nature and draw very little sustenance from sun, air, or water, preferring a diet of dryad or elf flesh. The scythe tree is an intelligent plant but does little with its intellect other than devise new and cruel methods to torment its food once it has secured meals.
They are vulnerable to fire, but resistant to all damage apart from slashing weapons.
With Nariel's magic suffusing him, Tristan's blade veritably flies from its scabbard. Not seeing much point in attacking a tree trunk with his slender rapier, Tristan focuses on slashing at its attacking branches.
"Even the trees in this land are bastards!"
Attack Yellow 1: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 1 = 21
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Attack Yellow 2: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 9 + 1 = 29
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Crit?: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 1 = 16
Crit Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Five foot step to Yellow and full attack. AC is 20 with Haste bonus.