Katsanóron notes Hob's departure, but figures he can handle it. Watching Thurin swing his hammer at the wards, evidently with no effect, she says. "One moment; let me try something."
She raises a hand and knocks on the door. "Hello?" she calls. "If the mage Kegan is home, we would like to speak with him, please."
"I mean, I kind of doubt it, but it's worth a shot," she adds under her breath.
Hob's nose twitches as Morrow's actions disturb the snow enough for smells to cut through the crisp air.
"Troll hunting?" Hob pauses, unsure if this is a dig at him, and continues "No trolls 'round here. Just The Wolf. Came through last night. Hurt Orcs. Killed men."
Then, he slips the letter back into Morrow's armor and leaves, depositing the key on the counter downstairs before toddling home.
As things start getting exciting, what with the dwarf breaking Opan's Ward and Pip looking to put a hole in his head, Ganzorig decides to stir the pot.
With a creak, the door to Kegan's mansion opens. The door feels and sounds solid, and moves snow out of the way as it opens. A tall man in a nightcap and robes stands just inside. He looks like he hasn't been sleeping well and someone with a giant hammer just wailed on his door. With a disinterested glance to either side, the man harumphs, and runes of abjuration begin tracing into the air around him. When he speaks, his voice is booming and heavy with metamagical intonations. "Begon, foul trespassers! This is a place of quiet contemplation! Stay, and I will banish you to a realm of infinite anguish."
Ganzorig and Pyrope run to duck behind the tree opposite Pip and their arrows.
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Katsanóron emits a startled "Eep!" and flees at top speed.
Thurin froze. He had gotten in...but...was this the Wizard? He scowled. Being threatened by a mage...well, he could run. But he’d never live it down. Plus he had walked this far to find the bloody caster!
”The name is Thurin, and I’ve come to talk to ye. Lower yon spells, I mean ye nay harm.”
It works and he doesn't notice a thing.
At first, Thurin's pounding has no obvious effect. However, on his third strike the runes start glowing.
Pip blinks at Hob. "There's a wolf. Also a troll. Wolf ain't a problem. Troll is." She shrugs. "Namora sent me for the troll." Her posture suggests that she's ready to jump into battle at any moment. "Troll and wolf're both sniffing around here. You know anything about that?" She waves a hand at Ganzorig as he disappears behind a tree. "What're you doing with the gnome?"
Ganzorig's very scary illusion bursts through the door and provokes mixed reactions. As Katsa runs away, Morrow jumps to his feet and chases her down. "Woah! It's okay." He sprints to the healer's side and tries to place a hand on her shoulder. "Just a wizard. All bark, no bite", he explains while glaring at 'Kegan'. "You're fine."
Pip has an arrow nocked and aimed through pure reflex before she realizes what she's doing. Her inhuman eyes, yellow and catlike, flit to Hob then back to 'Kegan'. "What? How?" she sputters. At this moment, perhaps to undermine the illusion entirely, the wards built into the foundation of the house flash, and most of them disappear. A delayed reaction from Thurin's assault, has finally caused Opon's ward to dissolve.
Katsanóron struggles against Morrow's grip on her shoulder for one futile moment, and then the panic clears from her eyes. Trembling, with her heart racing rather faster than her brief sprint could justify, she turns back towards the manor.
Just briefly, she almost remembers ... something.
And then it is gone.
She takes a ragged breath, nods a terse thanks to Morrow, and gazes wordlessly at Kegan in much the way a mouse might gaze at a snake.
The man in the doorway doesn't notice the runes. He's facing Pip, who thankfully has an arrow drawn on him. "I don't want any girl guide biscuits, I don't take visitors, and I don't abide tresspassers. Leave now, or suffer." The man begins to swell, filling the doorway as the magic runes encircle an anabjuring finger.
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”Bah! Blast me for being a fool. It’s a bloody illusion. The abjurer has his tricks, of course. Shoulda known it’d be too easy to find the bloody codger here. Ignore the puff of smoke.”
Hob stands between Pip and Kegan, though his head twitches as if trying to see through the back of his head.
"What's happening?" he calls to his companions, attention still trained on the Faun on front of him.
Drawing the smaller of his two shields he calls out to Pip "Won't ask you to drop the bow - Don't want to snap the string - but ease up on the tension and set your quiver aside."
Morrow moves to place himself in front of Katsa, drawing his sword slowly. When Thurin points out the non reality of the image, he returns his sword to the sheathe, although he keeps a hand on the hilt.
Pip growls menacingly, but lowers her bow at the orc's words. She stares closely at the image for a second, and then relaxes. Returning the arrow, to her quiver, she stalks out from behind the bush toward Thurin, standing far closer than is considered polite. Her voice is low and guttural. "Good eye. Thank you." That said, she turns back to Hob and puts a slight smile up. "Someone doesn't want you entering, orc. Tread carefully."
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The illusion's runes flash, and the image fades, leaving the closed door behind.
Ganzorig and Pyrope peer around their tree from either side. "Is everyone done doing the Golarian standoff thing? Hammers and bows and spells, oh my."
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”In we go. Fookin’ illusions abound. Worst kinds hide real dangers. Let’s take this safe and slow.”
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"A dwarf, a half-elf, a human, a gnome, his dog, and a half-orc walk into a wizard's mansion looking for a wolf. Bartender says: 'that's enough wine for you, Zorig.'"
It must have been a scare tactic Kegan left, Katsanóron decides. She feels a flush of embarrassment, and anger at having been fooled so easily. Mouth set in a grim line, she turns her eyes towards Hob.
"Who's that?" she calls to him. "Do we need to worry about her, or can we get on with it and get in there?"
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"Hob." said Hob to Pip, with a nod. He might've said more but for Ganzorig's words.
"What?" roared the orc, standing tall to his full seven feet and towering over the gnome. "You saying something 'bout my mum?"
Pip shakes her head at Katsa and responds in a serious tone. "Do not worry about me. Presently, I only mean harm to trolls." She nods at Hob's anger and smiles ever so slightly. "Good hunting to you, Hob. I hope you find the answers you seek." That said, she turns and trots off into the wood.
Morrow examines the group, with a sad smile. "You better live to tell me what you find over ale tonight."
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Thurin froze upon hearing the limerick. These were fighting words. If someone said that about his clan he’d kill them. Leave a mangled body buried in the snow. He wondered how the orc would react. He didn’t know much of anything about their culture, but he assumed from the outburst that family was important.
Katsanóron just gapes at the gnome for a moment, then her eyes fly to Hob to see his reaction.
Hob's eyes widen in disbelief. His nose flares, the smell of the fresh victims of the monster that killed his parents overpowering everything else. His grip on his cold iron sword tightens, and the shield raises slightly. He starts to stalk forward, then stops as he realises something.
Obviously holding onto his patience through the last remnant of his will he turns to Thurin and through gritted teeth asks "Mind Control?"
The orc bristles and Ganzorig sees the hairline restraint keeping him alive. "A- a wiley one, t-this Kegan. Tearing us apart from the inside."
The gnome swallows. "The, ah, window might be easier than the door, if we don't have a burglar."
Morrow whistles in surprise at Ganzorig's words and shakes his head. He slightly draws his sword, and looks to Hob for guidance.
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Hob pauses for a second. The wards were built to keep out powerful creatures - and any group powerful enough were liable to be fractious. Logically, it made sense. Logic, however, didn't stop him from wanting to rip Ganzorig in two.
With a ferocious grunt Hob redirects that anger. Shield and sword are cast aside as he stalks towards the door, and drew his axe.
“Axe” was a misnomer; It’d started life as an Anvil attached to a three inch thick stave, with a blade head welded on. After several broken tries, he’d ended up with this monster. Twenty five pounds of steel, cast into a teardrop wedge and sharpened to within an inch of its life, attached to a steel shod, iron bound stave.
Hob's anger doesn't dissipate, but with a final effort of will he redirects it into a blow against the door.
Katsa takes note the gnome's sudden nervousness, likely a sign of mendacity. But she chooses not to extend the confrontation any further.
"It would be a shame to break the glass," she says. "It's expensive and hard to make. Also ..." She approaches more closely as Hob raises his weapon. "... I don't think the door is likely to be a problem for long."
Crash.
"See?"
"I see..." Maybe there was nothing to worry about.
With a splintering crash, Hob's massive axes rips the door off it's hinges. The iron flies into the large room, ringing loudly. The sound echoes around the newly opened space for a moment, before silence takes ahold. The revealed room is large, and has a number of doors leading deeper into the house. All the doors are made from normal wood with no obvious wards, except for one made of stone with runic engravings on it's surface. (). The walls are bare, and the only furniture is a cloak rack with nothing on it. A thick layer of dust covers the ground. 6 columns adorn the centre of the floor, carved into the shape of female soldiers baring swords and shields.
The silence only lasts a moment. It is first broken by a popping sound, and then by a slow hissing, as 4 mounds of dirt erupt from the earth in the shape of small humanoids, clearly conjured by some ward. Their eyes glow red, and as one they descend towards Hob with raised fists.
These are earth elementals, creatures made from rocks and dirt. They are immune to bleed, paralysis, poison, sleep effects, critical hits, precision damage, and stunning.
Thurin let out a sigh of relief when the orc deigned not to kill the gnome. More restraint was shown than he was likely capable of. When Hob splintered the entry way, Thurin had to note the orc’s raw strength. He wondered whether his Breastplate would have held up any better.
That line of thought was interrupted when the earth elementals rose up. While he didn’t know what they were, they looked hostile...he supposed now he would get a chance to see what Hob’s monstrous axe could do.
Pyrope paws the ground and gnashes it's teeth.
Ganzorig makes a show of focusing on the area around the elementals and conjures a wall of burning radiant energy spears which gather and rain down from the air.
Hob cursed himself for a fool. Bereft of shield and sword, off balance from his furious attack, and now stumbling into a trap.
Thurin's hammer rips one of them in half, showering soil down around him. It's few remaining body parts collapse motionless.
Two more of the elementals flinch in pain as spears rain down on them, tearing holes in their makeshift forms. However, beings made of stone don't mind a few small holes, and they continue moving on the attack.
The elementals focus their fire on the one who triggered the ward. Stepping around Katsa, they start trying to hammer Hob. While E3 and E4 have clear blows against the orc, E2 finds Thurin in the way and attacks him instead.
While one of them smacks a hard blow against Thurin, Hob manages to deflect two attacks using his armour and shield.
The blow knocked Thurin off of his feet. The dwarf hit the ground hard, but he rolled as he fell, and swung his hammer out defensively as he got to his feet. There was no chance of it landing, but it did allow him to get up unimpeded.
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Standard: attack E2 brutal strike If hit, target is battered for 1 round[/ooc]
Battered (condition)
Heavy blows have left a creature with this condition vulnerable to further attacks, imposing a -2 penalty to the creature’s CMD and preventing them from taking attacks of opportunity provoked by a creature performing a combat maneuver. Some talents have different effects or activation times against battered creatures. The battered condition can be removed by taking the total defense action, or through the restore ability of the Life sphere (see Spheres of Power), the lesser restoration spell, or similar effects. When inflicting the battered condition on a target that is already battered, the rounds stack when determining duration.
Off balance due to his wound, Thurin's hammer strike goes wide and misses his target.
Thankfully, Hob finishes it for him, and cleaves the elemental in two without breaking a sweat.
Though she has no earthly idea what they are, Katsanóron is determined not to be scared off twice in five minutes.
Taking a quick step back from the unnerving creatures who swarmed out of the manor, Katsa reaches out and taps Thurin on the shoulder. For a moment, he tastes honeycomb, and it brings him a rush of energy.
This is the base ability, and does not cost any SP, which is why she hasn't plucked a flower from her hair and the effects were a bit more subtle than usual. Considering you all have eliminated half of them in 2 actions each, I'm going to conserve SP for later fights.
The wall of radiant blades marches around the cluster of combatants to continue harrying the two remaining stone men like a personal stormcloud of minor annoyances.
With a grunt, Ganzorig hurls a bolt of sensory void at the stone man Katsa just backed away from.
One of the elementals collapses as Ganzorig's blades tear it apart. The other resists the magic, until a bolt of darkness smacks it, wounding it. In response, the last remaining elemental smacks Hob, continuing it's single minded quest for vengeance against he who opened the door.
Determined not to be seen as dead-weight in a fight, Thurin circled back towards the elemental and swung his hammer.
Casting his axe aside Hob grunted as he reached for the damaged outsider, hands reaching into the stone and earth to grab hold...
if E4 is up, then E4. Otherwise the one down from nonlethal.
Initiate grapple - provokes AoO, I think.
Free action to Frenzy (-2 AC, +6 HP)
Plan is to throw it into the house and see if there's another trap/ward
@BBEGM: if you want to narrate the toss in your post I'd be happy.
Thurin's hammer smashes the elemental into pieces, scattering a spray of gravel over the fresh snow. A quiet overtakes the area.
Hob grabs the unconscious body, and flexing his impressive muscles whips it into the open doorway. It flies forth, and then smacks into an invisible barrier where the door would be, stopping in midair. With a loud bang, the magic jolts the corpse, causing it to explode and cover Hob with a dusting of dirt.
Morrow stares blankly at the group, awestruck by the performance. "Woah." Rendered speechless by the fight, he just stares with both eyebrows raised.
The open doorway looms before you...
The large room is mostly empty and the floor is covered in a layer of dust. Clearly, no one has been here for a very long time. Six columns support the ceiling, all carved into the form of female warriors with sheathed swords and shields. Many doors lead deeper into the house, all plain wood except for one warded iron door (Rightmost door on north wall). Silence fills the air. The wind is picking up, and the dark clouds overhead promise snow.
Hob blinks the grit from his eyes, and looks at the doorway he was about to charge through with new respect. Carefully he backs up and looks around for more threats, a muttered curse on his lips.
"Alright. Defences are good. This is... This is madness!"
"No-one goes in." Hob warns. "Four wards just to get the door open. Odds are there's more." He looks in with narrowed eyes "I don't trust those columns."
Carefully he sheaths his axe, picks up his sword and shield, and prepares.
"Alright. Those light-blade-things. What were they?"
"Those were sunspears, that was me." Ganzorig states plainly as he peers past the others into the room.
"Someone was here a few days ago. They took a very specific path. Might stick to those footprints while we investigate further. Who knows what might trigger more stone men. Those things aren't from around here. They don't get knocked out or poisoned, and you can't hit vitals on account of their being made of stone."
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Peering into the dimness of the mansion, Katsanóron studies the pillars Hob mentioned. She starts back a little as one of them moves.
"Hob, those statues are moving," she says, tugging on his sleeve. "Maybe they can be reasoned with."
"Um, hello?" she calls into the room. "Err, we're terribly sorry about the abrupt entrance. And the damage. Is Kegan here? We'd like to speak with him if he is."
"Um, and I can buy him a new door," she hurriedly adds.
”Aye, bet their friendly.” Thurin said dryly. ”Be ready to smash ‘em if they come at us. Good luck with your diplomancy.”
"Need a minute to catch my breath." Hob coughs ad spits out another bit of aerosolised elemental out. "Talk all you want till then, but don't touch the door."
"Thurin. Can you see'f there's another trap on the door?"
Hob needs 1 minute to regain his martial focus.
So... did the elementals discorporate? If there's still elemental bits stuck on this plane Hob is likely to scavenge parts or trophies out of them.
Constructs are basically a Blacksmith's natural prey, but given how hard the CR starts at...
Stoically, the statues ignore Katsa's attempt at diplomacy, and remain motionless. The room remains silent.
You suspect these are Caryatid Columns, a cheap form of golem designed to protect a specific area. They are unintelligent, but capable of having very specific triggering conditions for whom to attack and whom to ignore. Their notable traits include immunity to magic, damage reduction, and the ability to harm weapons that strike them.
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Harvest Parts: Can turn them into components worth (CR*CR*10)gp. Need the corpse to stick around, and a series of rolls, and only usable for very specific things.
Hob pauses, becoming positively talkative as they veer into Smithing "Caryatid Columns. Wayland had preliminary sketches on them from ages back." 'Though these ones are wearing more clothes' "Maybe this is where he got the idea. His sketches were a simple golem. Immune to magic, and magically hardened; enough to damage weapons used against them."
"Wayland's had a pass-token. No idea what these ones have." He groans, and stretches bruised ribs "Alright. We ready?"
Ganzorig remains beside the relative safety of the tree. "I could send in a forest creature... if no one wants to take the first step themselves."
Hob looks down at Ganzorig. "If we're ready, I'll go in. Can't you magic users... use magic or something?"