Age of Worms (Savage Worlds)

Game Master mikeawmids

The classic AP run using the fast, fun and furious Savage Worlds system.


51 to 100 of 167 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | next > last >>

Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

Ducking under the barstool, Arial takes a swing at her new playmate and misses.

1d8 ⇒ 3
1d6 ⇒ 1


Jack: With that sort of damage, that last wound has inflicted a grievous wound on your opponent.

"I was only - urgh - following orders...." the injured man grunts, falling to his knees before you, his blood soaking into the dirty reeds strewn across the floor of the taproom.

--

Azander: Shaken, Kullen growls at you with a mixture of rage and frustration and tries to bull his way past you to reach the exit onto the town square. (This gives you a free attack as he is attempting to leave combat).

"This ain't the end of this, you'll see!" Kullen snarls, "Diamond Lake is Smenk's town, you'll be sorry you stuck your noses in where they ain't welcome none!

Fighting: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Wild Die: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Damage: 2d4 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4

The albino barges past the old swordsman and barrels through the front door, abandoning his cronies to whatever fate the party has in store for them. A moment later, you hear a woman scream. Oh no, Alison!!! :o


INITIATIVE (Round 5)
Kullen's Gang: Joker
Jack: 10 (Spades)
Azander: 9 (Hearts)
Arial: 8 (Spades)
Kullen: 3 (Clubs)

There is only one goon still standing within the Feral Dog, the fellow swinging the chair at Arial's head. Kullen has scarpered through the front door, but it does sound as though he has delayed his escape in order to further menace Alison Land.

Fighting: 1d6 + 2 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 - 1 - 2 = 2

The final thug takes another swing at Arial with his improvised club, before noticing that he is the only member of his gang still upright and that his boss has made a break for it. He drops his weapon and makes a dash for the back door behind the bar. (Arial gets to make a free attack against the cowardly grunt.)

Arial's Fighting: 1d8 ⇒ 2
Wild Die: 1d6 ⇒ 2

The last thug ducks under your parting blow and flees into the filthy alley to the rear of the tavern.

If anyone follows Kullen...:
In the town square, the albino brute has grabbed Alison Land from where she had been waiting for you to emerge from the Feral Dog and is slowly retreating, using the girl as a hostage/human shield to deter pursuit. He is holding her against his broad chest with the shaft of his axe, the blade of which is pressed against her throat.

"Nobody do anything stupid now, or young Miss Land won't be winning any beauty contests anytime soon!" Kullen shouts, glancing over one shoulder to ensure nobody else is looking to get the drop on him.


Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

Hearing the scream, Arial ignores the thug with the chair and races outside to the square. Now an innocent life is in play, she decides it may be time to go into the fray armed, and she draws her bow.

"Kullen, you've threatened her for the last time," she says, siting down the shaft and aiming at his head.

"Sehanine guide my arrow," she whispers, and lets the arrow fly.

attack: 1d8 - 2 ⇒ (8) - 2 = 6 Multi-action penalty for drawing and shooting.
1d6 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
1d8 ⇒ 8
1d8 ⇒ 4 18 to hit.

damage: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 5) = 10+raise: 1d6 ⇒ 3


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander shouts and gives chase, then holds for a moment as he sees Kullen holding Alison hostage. He glances to his left and sees Arial drawing back her bow and reacts quickly, waiting for the arrow to fly and strike before he charges in, using the fact that Kullen will undoubtedly flinch to drive in and strike the weapon from his hands with a powerful, wild strike. "You shriveled mutt of chattel and sh*te, LET GO OF HER!"
Wild Attack, targeted at the arm to disarm.

Fighting: 1d12 + 1 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 1 + 2 - 2 = 11
Wild Die: 1d6 + 1 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 1 + 2 - 2 = 4

Damage: 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (4, 1) + 2 = 7 Ace: 1d4 ⇒ 4 Ace: 1d4 ⇒ 1
Raise?: 1d6 ⇒ 3
Total damage is 15. I hope he loses use of that arm. Also note that Azander's rapier is in the saber style, so it can be used to cut (just more slicing than chopping). Dunno if it'd be at all realistic for it to cut his arm off, but letting you know if you want to use it for cinematic effect, GM.


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Jack is startled out of his shocked contemplation I didn't want to kill him of the man he just wounded so badly by Alison's scream. Moving as quickly as his large size allows he follows Azander and Arial out the door.

Seeing his friend in danger, Jack bares his teeth and rushes to her aid only to see Arial draw and fire her bow almost faster than Jack can follow as Azander chops into Kullen's arm with dramatic and stunning effect.

Assuming that Kullen has been dispatched by the onslaught

Jack grabs Alison and gives her an awkward hug (as much as one can hug with a rapier in one hand and a buckler in the other). Jack whispers in Alison's ear, "run to the bakery as fast as you can, don't stop to talk to anyone, tell my brother what happened and have him hide you."

After whispering to Alison, Jack takes a position to cover Arial and Azander in case reinforcements show up.


Arial: Aiming for head imposes a -4 penalty, but you still hit with a Raise. Hitting the head causes an extra 4 damage also, bringing total to 17. Kullen is still Shaken (I forgot to roll his Spirit last round), so that's enough damage to finish him off.

Your arrow rustles Alison's hair as it finds it's target within inches of her own head. The shaft strikes Kullen between the eyes and lodges in his skull, quivering. Obscenely, even this fails to kill the albino outright and he retains his grip on Alison - up until the point that Azander scampers up and hacks off his arm at the shoulder. Alison staggers away from her tormentor, tripping over his severed limb in her haste to escape. Blood trickling from his eyes, Kullen takes a few wobbly steps towards her, before finally succumbing to his catastrophic injuries. He collapses onto his back, Arial's arrow sticking up into the air like a little flag.

Will post again after school run.

List of Casualties...
Kullen: (extremely) Dead
Kullen's Gang: 1 dead (Jack), 1 wounded (Jack), 2 unconcious (Arial) and 1 escaped (to warn Smenk)


A mutilated corpse in the town square will cause a commotion in even the roughest of frontier towns and Diamond Lake is no exception. Within moments, whistles can be heard, heralding the approach what passes for the law in this grimy corner of the realm. Alison Land pauses only long enough to peck Jack on the cheek before dashing off towards the sanctuary of Greyfeather Bakery.

What are you doing now? If you stick around, Sheriff Cubbin and his deputies arrive a few minutes later, red-faced and huffing from their run. If you are not hanging about, where are you going to go?


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Since it's been years since Jack was in town, he looks to Azander for guidance. However, he does know that just standing around is not a good idea.


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander grimaces as the arm falls, and when Kullen remains standing and steps to follow Alison, he steps forward and drives his rapier through the villain's gut, twisting it as it sinks to the hilt. "Wait for your boss in Hell, Kullen," he whispers into the dying--or dead--half-orc's ear, just before drawing his rapier back out of his body and letting the corpse fall.

Azander then slowly sits down next to Kullen's form and pulls out a piece of flint, which he uses against his rapier to light the cigar still hanging from his mouth. He takes a drag on the cigar and puffs out smoke, then snaps the arrow in half and hammers it through with his rapier's pommel. He hands the broken arrow to Arial. "Take this and go. I'll explain to the guards, they'll accept the word of an old man, and if they don't, well, I'll make them understand, see if I don't. Go, go!" He waves his hand and wipes the rapier on Kullen's shirt before sliding it into its scabbard. "It's the dumb troll-ogre-half-breed's own fault. Kids today, warriors, they don't know anything, rely on brute strength, let anger work everything, no skill or speed, just raw power, and what's that get you, dead, that's what it gets you, see if it doesn't, you can see it right there." He nods to himself and pats Kullen's knee.


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Jack looks on with a mixture of admiration and confusion as Azander states his desire to wait on the Sheriff. Jack decides that discretion makes sense but will not leave his childhood idol. Looking around the square, Jack spots an area of particularly deep shadows on the edge of the square and moves quietly to that spot without another word.

Jack's going try to hide from the view of the Sheriff and his men but stay close enough to come to Azander's aid.


Assuming that Arial hides also, as Azander's plan seems to be to take sole responsibility for this mess.

Sheriff Cubbin and two of his uniformed sycophants come trundling over to investigate the disturbance in the town square. The sheriff has a large, flat nose, red with broken veins, marking him for a heavy drinker - a fact that any resident of Diamond Lake could have told you for free. A sword hangs from Cubbin's belt, though he shows no indication that he plans to draw it anytime soon, as he draws to a halt beside Kullen's body.

What are you playing at now, Azander? the sheriff asks, after catching his breath, "Brawling in the streets? If you've got a problem with someone, why can't you just shank them in a backstreet like everyone else and spare me a load of paperwork? Who is this poor bugger anyhow?"

Cubbin curses as recognition dawns.

"By the Abyss! You've killed Kullen?! You mad bastard! There are easier ways to commit suicide that giving Smenk a reason to come after you. Couldn't you have thrown yourself down a mine shaft and had done with it?"

Perspiring heavily despite the grey, overcast sky, Cubbin wipes a sleeve across his sweaty brow, before motioning for his two deputies to each grab hold of one of the corpse's legs.

"We can't leave that thing here. Put it in cell C until I figure out what to do with it. Azander, you're going to have to come along too. You're under arrest."

Assuming that you don't resist, you are escorted to the sheriff's office and locked in cell D. The cell contains a pallet of mouldy straw and a bucket for the conducting of one's 'private business'. A tiny, barred window provides a breath-taking view of the alley behind the gaol.


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander blows a cloud of smoke into the sheriff's face and spits on the ground. "Smenk is a rat-faced, weasel-brained, orc-livered bastard son of an unfortunate pairing between a half-wit farmer and one of his livestock. He can do as he pleases if it doesn't concern me and get away with it, but he bothers me or mine, and I'll do as I damn well please the same as Smenk does, see if I don't." He sucks on the cigar and breathes smoke into Cubbin's face again. "Ya can see what happens when Smenk steps too far right here, ya can, lyin' on the ground 'cause Smenk hires half-rate kobold offal instead of real fighters like ya had forty years ago. Those were the days, I tell ya, that's when ya saw real warriors, ya got a real workout and a challenge, not like this brainless sack of bone, muscle and blood." He gestures at the corpse with the cigar.

"Point is, I ain't goin' anywhere, not with fat, stupid pig runts who couldn't find their way outta Smenk's pocket if their life depended on it. And if ya try to take me by force, well, your life will depend on it, see if it don't. " He inhales and sighs. "Go home, Cubbin. Go back to your house and your comfy bed and your good food and your wife and your children and everything else you've gotten for being a slipshod lawman in a ramshackle mining town who doesn't touch a soul unless they cross the man that's really paying him." Azander fixes him with an almost sad look.

If you want rolls for this, I guess it'd be persuasion?

Persuasion (Unskilled): 1d4 - 2 ⇒ (1) - 2 = -1
Wild Die: 1d6 ⇒ 3
Ahh. Hopefully the words are enough.


A failed Persuasion roll results in the NPC's impression of your character decreasing one level, in this instance: neutral > unfriendly.

Cubbin coughs and splutters as you exhale the smoke from your foul cigar into his face.

"Fine." the sheriff mutters, following after his men (who are struggling to haul Kullen's uncooperative corpse out of a muddy patch), "I'm not getting caught in the middle of this. Might be some of the mine managers grease my palm from time, but not enough to die over. You want to butt heads with Smenk, be my guest. Less paperwork for me."


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander sits and watches the men struggle with the body until they've gone out of sight, at which point he pushes himself to his feet. He walks back into the Feral Dog and retrieves his cane, then comes back out into the square and sets off toward the Greyfeather bakery, puffing his cigar and muttering to himself about the state of the world today.


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Jack slips up quietly behind Azander practicing his stealth and then clears his throat loudly. "Can't believe that didn't arrest you...must have been your charming personality and winning smile," Jack adds with a laugh.


Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

Sorry I've been a bit behind.

"It seems the law here is a matter of convenience," Arial says, shaking her head in the direction the sheriff left. She had been hiding in an alley when the confrontation took place, concocting schemes to spring the old man from prison.

"Maybe we should head to Smenk's place? I think we should try to resolve our differences before there is any further bloodshed," she says. She looks down at the bloody spot where the half-orc's body had been, and sighs, saddened that things had come to this point. Then she looks back at the bar where the fight had begun.

"I'm sure the Real Men could help us find him." She walks back in, shaking one of the unconscious thugs to try to wake him.


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander nods. "Hah. Ya just have to keep in mind that they're not in it for the law, they're in it for the money. As soon as it's not worth the pay, they'll step down. And even if they hadn't, well... the prisons of the Free City itself couldn't hold me. Ya think a jail run by that goblin-brained idiot could keep me locked up?" He smirks and exhales a cloud of foul-smelling smog. "We'll leave Smenk alone for now, Arial. His turn to act, and as for me, I'm in the mood for a pie." The old man nods and keeps walking toward the bakery.


Arial: I notice that you do not have either the Persuasion or Intimidate skill, but you do have Healing.

Back in the taproom of the Feral Dog, you immediately notice that the two men you knocked out with your martial arts have gone. They must have regained conciousness and scarpered while you were outside dealing with Kullen. Only the two men who ran afoul of Jack's rapier remain, one dead and one wounded.

How do you intend to get the information you want?

--

Jack's description of Greyfeather Bakery : "The Greyfeather bakery is located off the central square towards the 'nicer' part of Diamond Lake. The front half of the bakery building is the where the ovens are located as well as display cases. The back part of the building is hidden by a wall that contains a single door and contains the living area and was Jack's childhood home. It's now inhabited by Jack's brother and shrew of a sister-in-law."

Azander: When you reach the bakery, the entrance is locked and a sign in the window reads 'closed'. Please make a Notice roll.

Failure:
You do not see anything other than several shelves of freshly baked bread and delicious looking strawberry tarts.

Success:
Peering through the window, you catch sight of the movement beyond the curtain leading through to the living area at the rear of the building.

Raise:
As well as the above, you notice one of Alison's bags, partially hidden behind the counter.


Almost forgot, everyone gets a benny for dealing with a major NPC (Kullen). Arial, you get two for that wicked shot. :D

Also, while Cubbin's men have removed the half-orc's body from the street, they forgot to take his severed arm, which is still lying there, all pale and gross.


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Following along with Azander, Jack notices the sign on the door and then pounds on it yelling inside "Big brother, your younger, smarter, skinnier brother is here. Open up!"


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

"Hm..." Azander looks at the sign and then glances around, looking into the windows of the shop. "Nothing like the service you used to have, huh, used to be you'd show up in town past the middle of the night, hours before dawn, and they'd take you in, have fresh-baked pies, best in all the land, right there for ya, I tell ya..."

Notice: 1d8 ⇒ 3
Wild Die: 1d6 ⇒ 2

The old man huffs on his cigar and then raps on the door with his cane. "Hey! Greyfeathers, you--er--" Azander pauses, realizing that insults are probably a bad idea. "It's Azander Blanche, and I want something to eat! Come on, you know I'm a patron."


Hearing his younger brother's voice, a larger, fatter version of Jack emerges warily from behind the counter. Unlocking the front door, he ushers you inside and bundles you both into the back room.

Jack, does your brother have a name?

"It's good to see you again, Jack!" he says, enfolding you in a brotherly hug (no mean feat considering your own not inconsiderable girth), "Why didn't you write to let us know that you were coming? I would have made some of your favourite strawberry tarts! Can I get you something to drink?"

"Is that him?" a woman's voice demands from the adjacent room. Your brother's wife emerges, face like a thundercloud in stark contrast to her husband's ever sunny disposition. "We're not running a women's refuge here, Jack! We can't shelter every woman you take a fancy to, regardless of who might be after them."

You can see Alison Land seated in the next room, her face glowing red as a plum tomato at being spoken off as though she were some common waif.

"And what is that old rascal doing here?!" your sister-in-law screeches, spotting Azander lurking near a tray of pies, still steaming from the oven. Swift as a whippet, she snatches the smouldering cigar from your wrinkly lips and drops it into the glass of milk that her husband had been pouring for Jack. "If I see those clever fingers of yours anywhere near those pies, Azander Blanche... they'll be baked into the next one!"

"It is lovely to see you, Jack." your brother says again, his fat face suddenly sombre, "But Alison told us that she was in some sort of trouble, that's why I closed up shop. She was in such a terrible state when she got here, she could barely string two words together without bursting into tears. Poor girl. What have you got yourself involved in now, little brother?"


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Please allow me to introducer Sam, and his 'lovely' wife, Jana Greyfeather, proud owners of the bakery.

"Sam, it's good to see you too. I'm sorry that it's been so long since I've been back. Seeing the world and all that. I actually wouldn't have been back except Alison wrote and said that some folks were causing her trouble. You know Alastor was one of my best friends so I couldn't hear about his sister having trouble without coming to help." Jack gives Alison a smile as he finishes.

Jack then whirls to face his his sister-in-law and angrily says "you will make my friends are welcome here. I've changed since we last saw each other dear sister-in-law. I've seen and done things...I've faced three men in battle at once and won...I've killed a man...you're angry words no longer scare me."

Jack turns back to his brother. "Azander and I and a friend are going to set things right with the folks trying to run her off her farm. She needs to stay out of sight until we do. Please allow her to stay and keep her hidden."


Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

OK, true, I don't have persuasion, but everyone kept saying how pretty I was, so I thought I must have something going on there.

Arial considers the wounded man for a moment, and then sighs.

Heal 1d6 ⇒ 51d6 ⇒ 5

"Sehanine help me," she mutters under her breath, and then kneels beside him. She wads up clean rags and applies pressure to the wound til it stops bleeding. She ties off the bandages and gently tries to wake him.

If he regains consciousness:

"I'm afraid the rest of the Real Men abandoned you," she says, wondering to herself why being a despicable lout seemed to make a man real. "I couldn't let you bleed out, but I'm afraid you will have to come with me."

She leads him out of the tavern and back to the bakery. Much to Jana's immense delight, I expect.

She slips in a few moments after the others, just in time to catch the end of Jack's speech to his sister-in-law. Standing there, slightly awkwardly, she turns to Jana and smiles warmly.

"The Moonbow's blessing on your house, Lady," she says. "We thank you for your aid and kindness."

Is Foolishly Optimistic a major or a minor hindrance? (jk)


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander just chuckles at Jana's commentary, though he blinks and frowns at the cigar being plucked from his mouth. He picks up a small pie or tart in response and bites into it, looking at the woman meaningfully. "That cigar was made from the finest leaf this side of Elysium, it cost me an arm and a leg, and that arm and leg were from a dragon, I tell ya, and not the puny kind ya see today, I mean a real great wyrm, fiery breath and wings like a hurricane and all, so one of your husband's delicious treats is very little compensation, woman." He gives her another pointed look and takes another bite. "As for Alison, here she is, and here she'll stay, huh? I already killed one man who crossed me today, head to the jail and see if I didn't."

The old man starts walking around the store, perusing the goods and finishing the treat he grabbed as he contemplates what to take next. "Eh, you've at least kept up with the place, Sam, one thing that's as good as in the old days, I remember your parents' pies and tarts and breads, and that one cake they made me once, with a little scone in the shape of a dragon on top, and a smaller one shaped like me, ah, that was a good one, and these you have here are still just as good, maybe better." He settles for a small apple tart and picks it up, sniffing it before taking a bite and chewing thoughtfully. "I don't plan to stay long, won't cause any trouble, huh, just thought I'd check in on my girl and make sure she's safe here, although one minute with you, Jana Greyfeather, and the most dastardly and evil-minded lich would turn and flee from your scathing tongue. I'm off to see Smenk, and then I'll have to find the two slow-brained louts that asked me to teach them about swords and then couldn't be bothered to show up, eh, the youth of today, what's wrong with them, I don't know..."


Despite his wife's tutting, Sam Greyfeather agrees to let Alison stay for as long as it takes to resolve her dispute with Balabar Smenk. Jana grudgingly makes up a bed for her in Jack's old room, which does mean that Jack will have to rest his head elsewhere, for the sake of propriety.

"No, no, no, NO!" Jana cries, brandishing a breadstick menacingly as Arial arrives, supporting one of Smenk's injured grunts, "He's dripping blood all over my nice clean floors! Get him out of here! SAAAAAM!!!"

So much for keeping a low profile. On the plus side, Jana chases you out before Smenk's man lays eyes on Alison Land.

After settling Alison in, it is probably nearing late afternoon. Are you going to confront Smenk immediately, or wait until the morrow?


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

"We better move quickly before Smenk has a chance to prepare."


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

"Hmhmhm," Azander chuckles to himself, finishing off another tart he grabbed on the way out before rolling a cigar. "Yes, let's get moving, we'll take him by surprise, huh, he won't know what hit him, not like the villains back in the day, I'll tell ya, there were some good villains back then, well, bad, but ya know what I mean."


Are there any preparations you need to make before heading out?

Finding Smenk will not be a problem, everyone in Diamond Lake knows that he lives in a dilapidated manor house overlooking his own mining interests. A couple of thugs beside the entrance observe tou warily.

"You're expected," one welcomes you (without sounding particularly welcoming). "Follow me."

While the house must once have been a grand place to live, it has been allowed to slip into disrepair. The interior smells of mould and rot and something fouler. You soon discover the source. Chained to the walls in the foyer are two slathering dire apes, gibbering and screeching at you as you are escorted deper into the dank mansion.

Your guide opens a door and motions you into what must once have been an impressive library. Most of the shelves are now depressingly bare. A fire burns in the hearth, before which sits a fat man with majestic sideburns. He is smoking a large cigar and drumming his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair.

"Ah, Azander Blanche..." Smenk drawls, "I was hoping that you would drop by. I see you have bought friends. Students of your school perchance? Or are they embroiled in this recent unpleasantness also?"


Beside Smenk's chair stands Sheriff Cubbin, presumably having just finished making his own report to the nefarious mine manager. His eyes are downcast and he will not meet your gaze. Several armed men loiter discreetely around the edges of the library. You recognise the three survivors from the fight at the Feral Dog, and they haven't forgotten you either, judging by the dark looks you're getting. Three empty seats have been arrayed around the dying fire.

"Please sit, so that we may discuss the business that has bought you here today," Smenk offers, gesturing towards the chairs with the glowing tip of his cigar, "Cubbin here has just been regaling me with his take on your recent heroics. I'm not going to waste your time with false sentiment, I never liked Kullen. He was a useful tool, but when a tool breaks, you can usually find another to do the same job."

He pauses briefly to puff on his expensive cigar.

"I am many things, but first and foremost, I am a businessman. I could have sent men to kill you, or burnt down your school - if it hasn't already collpased on its own - but where is the profit in that? You're far more use to me alive than dead. Perhaps we can come to some sort of understanding and put this bloody business behind us, eh?"


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Jack's initial impression of Smenk is not favorable. I've seen orcs that look more trustworthy. Pulling a fresh strawberry tart from his pocket, Jack eats it without even realizing it as he stares at the mine owner.

"Why are trying to drive our friend off of her land?" Jack suddenly bursts out.


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander calmly reaches out and grabs Jack's wrist, keeping the young man from eating the tart. "Smenk, you're many things, all of them sickening, but first and foremost, you're a vomitous boar-faced mass of slime and human refuse, and then, ya sent that poor half-breed sodbrain to rough up the wrong girl. Ya know I watch out for Alison Land, ya musta known ya'd be causing trouble to see her come to harm. I dunno what ya want with her family's farm, ya could be wanting a new place to take a shat and roll around in it for all I care, but if she doesn't wanna sell it to ya, ya leave off her, huh? These are two of her friends, but I'm the one ya really wanna keep an eye on, huh? So what are ya talking about, ya overfed, slobbering excuse for a man, ya want my sword workin' for ya, forget it." Azander leans forward and blows the noxious smoke from his own cigar into the faces of both Smenk and Cubbin, ready to draw his sword if it comes to it.


Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

The simple fact that the man uttered such threats very nearly provoked Arial to put an arrow in him right then and there, but the others spoke before she could begin to formulate any acceptable response.

Azander's rant gives her time to look around the room, counting goons, not liking the numbers she comes up with. Good thing we're with Azander, or we might be in real danger, she thinks. She lets her hand rest on her spear, a more useful weapon than a bow for close quarters, and this isn't the moment for the delicate art of unarmed combat. Not with this many of them.

"There's been enough killing," she says, putting a restraining hand on Azander's shoulder. "Before we listen to any proposal you might make, we need assurances that you will cause no more trouble for Alison Land, whether directly or working through these men whose honor you've purchased." Her gesture includes all the thugs, but mostly the sheriff.


"You wouldn't be working for me," Smenk counters, reclining in his seat and blowing a lazy smoke ring into Azander's face, "And I certainly won't be paying you. What I propose is an arrangement that benefits everyone."

"First, I'm not trying to drive anyone of their land. Your lady friend owes me a considerable sum of money. I can provide you with copies of the paperwork, all nice and legal, signed by myself and Miss Land. I retain the services of a very well established law scribe from the Free City, so you can be assured that the contract is binding. Unfortunately, she has not been making her payments and I am well with my rights to seize her assets in recovery of the outstanding debt."

"I'm not an unreasonable man. I could be persuaded to absolve Miss Land of her obligation, if her friends were to make a small gesture of goodwill on her behalf. As I said before, I am a businessman. I have had to close down one of my operations, due to a strange sickness amongst the miners. While the mine is sealed, the men aren't digging and if the men aren't digging then I'm not turning a profit on my investment. Now, if you were to enter the mine and locate the source of this affliction, I would happily tear up Miss Land's paperwork and relinquish any claim on her families farm."


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

"I agree with the Lady Arial. Enough are dead already. I'm willing to do this quest for you on one condition. Any debts that Alison owes are wiped out when we enter the mine even if we don't make it out. "


Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

Arial shakes her head. "Sehanine save me, does every word mean its opposite when it comes before man?"

"The paperwork goes with us into the mine," she says. "If you make reparations to her for the damage you've done to her through paying off her workers to not work and sending your 'Real Men' to assault her, you might deserve some measure of goodwill."


I'm afraid those terms are simply unacceptable," Smenk says to Jack, lounging back in his chair, "Miss Land's debts will only be cleared upon your return from the mine, with the source of the contamination. Consider that an added incentive to succeed. Of course, I will provide you with a special container in which the item can be safely transported. We wouldn't want this affliction to spread any further now, would we?"

Turning to Arial, Smenk splays his hands helplessly, his fat lips pulled down into a mock grimace.

"Unfortunately, the original copy of the contract is held by my law scribe in the Free City. He's an obsequious fellow, but one of the best in his field, considering how much he charges for his expertise. Rest assured that I will summon him here forthwith, to deliver the documents and draw up a new settlement absolving Miss Land of any further debt. Unless of course, any of you are certified to practise law...? No, I didn't imagine so."


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander spends the next minute or two, as the others are talking, simply puffing on his cigar, blowing as much foul smoke as he can toward Smenk and Cubbin. Here, though, his lungs finally give up on this process and he begins hacking and coughing, sending some phlegm toward Smenk--Haha!--and leaning on his cane. He thumps his chest twice and then stands back up, hocks, and spits a wad of stuff on the floor. "Sorry about that, Balabar old boy, lungs ain't what they were, huh?" He chuckles and sucks another breath through the cigar. "As for your, eh, offer, I'd rather run ya through here and have done with it, see if I couldn't. Oh, your boys would be upset, I'm sure, and it'd be interestin' to see if Cubbin here would get slip his fingers out of your pockets and uphold the law or give up now that his income's been crippled. But by my thinking, clearing out an old mine, that seems like a grand old time, huh, and since there's some sort of contagion that's killin' everyone who goes on in there, well, it's obvious we'll make it out alive, innit, after all, we're a young elf woman, a young man big for his age, and an elderly adventurer, we're the fittest group to take on the deadliest of plagues, it only makes sense, huh? Look, ya weasel-faced rat-monkey, you're gonna give your legal word that Alison doesn't have problems while we do this, and ya give us as long as we need to deal with your mine, and ya don't call off the deal until ya find our bodies, all three, and if ya don't find 'em, then ya don't think we've gone. That's the deal. I don't need your fancy lawyer from the Free City, but I need your word in front of Cubbin's, and I'm sure I don't have to tell ya what'll happen if I find out things fall through on this. I'll clear out your mine, and you'll give Alison her land and stop troubling her. Or there'll be more and more of your goons dead in the town square. Understand?" Azander blows another cloud of smoke into Smenk's face.


Smenk scowls down at the lumpy wad of yellowish-green phlegm stuck to his slipper. His fat fingers, which had been drumming incessantly on the arm of his chair since he started talking, are still. Every thug in the library seems to be holding their breath, waiting for the imminent explosion of the mine manager's rage....

"You should see someone about that cough, Azander." Smenk warns, "It'll probably be the death of you."

The tension slackens and Cubben relaxes visibly, his hand drifting away from his sword.

"If my solemn word in front of the sheriff is enough to satisfy your mistrustful nature, then I give it freely. Upon your return from the mine - with the item that has caused the sickness amongst my employees, I will absolve Miss Alison Land of the monies owed and make no further attempt to obtain the land upon which her family's farm stands. If you fail in your attempt, or are killed and your bodies identified, then the original contract will be enforced and the Land farmstead will be torn down."

Standing, Smenk casts his cigar into the hearth and nods to Cubbin, who slopes off back to his office.

"You can collect the special container from the sheriff's office in the morning. If that's concludes our business, then I will take my leave. I need to change my shoes."


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

"Let's get out of here...I feel oily just being around these people..."

Once out of the estate and away from prying eyes and ears, Jack adds "I think you both better stay at the bakery tonight. Safety in numbers and so on. Besides it will give us all a chance to catch-up. I haven't even told you about my adventure recovering the monkey broach for a certain nobleman..."


Was there anything else that you wanted to do this evening, or shall we jump straight to the next morning?


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4
GM Skull Funk wrote:
Was there anything else that you wanted to do this evening, or shall we jump straight to the next morning?

Happily full of pie, Jack sleeps the sleep of the just waking up ready to tackle the mine. Vote to jump ahead ;)


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander gives a raspy, throaty chuckle at Smenk's comment on his cough, and blows a final cloud of smoke at the man as he turns and leaves. "Keep in mind what happened to your runt Kullen, Balabar, or the same might happen to ya, see if it don't. We'll clean your mine, since you're so incompetent." He makes his way out with Jack and Arial, ready to eat some more nice little tarts and pies and such before getting a good night's sleep and saving Alison's farm in the morning.

Also fine with moving on!


Elf Ranger(Deep Walker) 9
Arial:
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +16 AC 24, touch 17, flat-footed 18 CMD 27 hp 59 Fort +7, Ref +13, Will +9; +2 vs. enchantments
Hell Kitt:
Init +6; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6 AC 27, touch 16, flat-footed 21hp 67) Fort +9, Ref +12, Will +5 (+4 vs. Enchantment)CMD 26 (30 vs. trip)

Moving on. Sorry for thin posts lately.


I am assuming that all three of you (and Alison Land) are crashing at the bakery, to the great horror of Jana Greyfeather.

The next morning dawns grey and drizzly. The overworked mining men of Diamond Lake move through patches of pale, washed-out sunlight on their way to the pits. Sam and Jana Greyfeather have been up since before dawn, firing up the great stone oven and rolling dough for the day’s bread. The delicious smell of baking fills the (overcrowded) house. Determined to pull her own weight, Alison has also risen early to assist her hosts. Her hands and face are pasty with flour as Jana Greyfeather shows her how to prepare the perfect owlbear pie.
-
When you visit the sheriff’s office, Cubbin produces a heavy, cylindrical container of dark metal, approximately the size of a human head. His desk creaks ominously under the weight of the thing. The sheriff does not look as though he has had much sleep and one of his deputies is snoring loudly in an empty cell.

Please make a Notice-2 roll…

Failure:
You don’t notice anything, your attention is riveted to the curious metal box on Cubbin’s desk.

Success:
You notice that the sleeping deputy is in cell C.

Raise:
You notice the sleeping deputy is in cell C – hold on, isn’t that where they were going to store Kullen’s body?

”Well, there it is,” Cubbin says, rubbing the sleep from his eye with a balled fist, ”I warn you now, it’s bastard heavy. You twist the lid clockwise to open it, the other way to seal it again.”

Opening/Closing the container requires a Strength+2 roll and counts as an action.

”You’ll need this to get into the mine,” the sheriff continues, tossing a large copper key down beside the metal box, ”You’re to lock yourselves inside until you’re done.”


Male Aasimar Sentinel 1 | HP 16/16 | AC 17, touch 11, FF 16, CMD 15 | Fort +5, Ref +1, Will +4 | Init +1, Perception +6

Azander wakes early, but he doesn't help with the cooking. Instead, he heads out back of the bakery with a fresh cigar already lit, and begins running through different forms of swordplay, thrusting and parrying and spinning and slashing. He then does a series of stretches and exercises before sheathing the sword and returning inside. "Thanks for the bed, Greyfeathers, you're not like the other young folk, I tell ya, you've got some respect, some common decency, not always runnin' around carin' about yourself and nobody else, you're good folk, huh." He grabs a pair of tarts and nods with a grin. "See ya when we get back," he chuckles as he exits the door.

Azander leads the way to Cubbin's office, licking his fingers of the last of the tarts, and raps on the door with his cane. When inside, he takes a look around while frowning at the sheriff.

Notice: 1d8 - 2 ⇒ (5) - 2 = 3
Wild Die: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (3) - 2 = 1

"What's in the container, Cubbin, and don't ya lie ta me, ya fat, stupid slug of a man. Poke your head outta Smenk's pocket and tell me what's goin' on here, huh?" Azander gives the man a puzzling look and reaches out to take the container, immediately twisting it open in his hands.

Strength: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Wild Die: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8 Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 2


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

For Jack helping his brother bake brings back happy memories of growing up in the bakery. Once the prep work is finished, Jack puts the pies into the oven to bake then changes into his adventuring clothes and grabs his backpack, rapier and buckler. Heading out back he watches Azander goes through his series of exercises doing his best to copy each move.

Conversation is lacking as the group heads to the Sheriff's office. Jack is lost in thought as he runs through the rapier exercises in his head again.

Jack happily let's the order man take the lead in the conversation with the Sheriff as he causally looks around the office.

Notice: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (6) - 2 = 4

Wild: 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (2) - 2 = 0

Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Jack interrupts as he notices something out of place..."Sheriff why isn't Kullen's body in the cell like you said it was going to be?"


Azander: The container is empty.

"Going senile, old man?" Cubbin smirks, "Smenk told you just last night, when you find whatever is messing with his miners, put a piece of it in the box and bring it back. Maybe I should write that down in case you forget again."

"Jack interrupts as he notices something out of place..."Sheriff why isn't Kullen's body in the cell like you said it was going to be?""

"Oh, well, Smenk wanted to dispose of the body himself. I'm just relieved to be rid of it. It had started to stink."

Jack, please make a Notice roll opposed by Cubbin's Persuasion.
Persuasion: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 3
EXPLOSION: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Total: 8

Failure:
That is totally believable, of course Smenk wanted to get rid of the body before anyone started asking questions.

Success:
Hmmm, Cubbin seems a little reluctant to talk about the whereabouts of Kullen's corpse.

Raise:
You're certain that Cubbin is hiding something, something that he and Smenk do not want you to know.


Agility: d8 Smarts: d8 Spirit: d6 Strength: d6 Vigour: d6 Pace: 5 Charisma: 0 Parry: 7 Toughness: 7 Bennies:4 Skills: Climbing: d6, Fighting: d6, Lockpicking: d8, Notice: d6, Stealth: d8, Taunt: d6, Persausion: d4

Notice: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Ace: 1d6 ⇒ 3

wild: 1d6 ⇒ 3

"Sheriff why are you so reluctant to talk about this? What's going on?" Reaching into his backpack Jack pulls out a fresh tart. "Have one, they're delicious and tell Ol' Jack what's going on.

Assuming I need to roll for persuasion now.

Persuasion: 1d4 ⇒ 4
Ace: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 2

101 to 150 of 167 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | next > last >>
Community / Forums / Online Campaigns / Play-by-Post / Age of Worms (Savage Worlds) All Messageboards

Want to post a reply? Sign in.