Thoku, Choot, and Kern are "suggested" for about an hour to leave the forest.
Jugag, Shakraal, and Ozak don't resist.
It's an auditory effect, but the bonus from ear-pluggage (+5) didn't beat the DC for the spell.
TGhe three non-suggested people can opt to stay and fight the four satyrs on their own ofr they can choose the better part of valor and find easier prey
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Death flies! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!" Jugag shouted as he took a step forward and loosed twice in quick succession at the nearest satyr.
Thoku walks away still under the smoke of the goats words. Sloshing through the swamp the chief call out to those that stayed behind " if you wish to continue to waste your time on worthless pray. Then don't drag behind once you finish your meager meal...
The blood chief calls to kern " Huntsman what are you waiting for find me better pray" he commands
-Posted with Wayfinder
Choot Othul: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Jugag: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Kern Dead-Eye: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Ozak: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Shakraal Kringsdaughter: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Thoku Blood Drinker: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Satyr: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Death flies! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!" Jugag shouts as he takes a step forward and looses twice in quick succession at the nearest satyr. War rain falls from the sky like a thousand bolts of lightning. They descend on the satyrs, all dodging the wooden spears like cowards. One is brave, however,and stands to face Jugag's arrows. They sprout from his as trees, sending his blood pouring to the earth in rivers.
Following the archer's lead, the Bloodscreamer digs her fists into the blood slicked soil of the island. She breathes deep, filling her lungs with air and tilts her face to the clouds. She screams, throwing the soil into the air above her and Sezelrian's smoke pours from beneath her mask in a torrent. The bloodied soil hangs in the smoke above her head and Rull's arrows crash about her. The cloud rushes across the clearing, surrounding one of the fey.
DC 16
full damage
As lighting crashes into the fey burning its flesh with the smoke-fueled power of the Thunderer, Ozak rushes forward and twirls his axe in the air.
"Fey magic or orc blood - it's all the same to Skullbiter!" he shouts, as he crashes into the arrow-pierced satyr. The fey splits in twain, blood spraying in the air in a shower of golden-flecked silver.
Shakraal: aggressive thundecloud 3/4 left
Choot, Thoku, Kern: suggestion 3/4 rounds left
"Lives for Mighty Thoku!" Jugag said as he fired again.
Choot still wanders away bewildered that part of the Fist is not obeying mighty Thoku!
Choot Othul: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Jugag: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Kern Dead-Eye: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Ozak: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Shakraal Kringsdaughter: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Thoku Blood Drinker: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Satyr: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
"Lives for Mighty Thoku!" Jugag calls out in a great Rull-noise as he looses again his mighty war needles. Wooden rain tipped with steel falls from the sky. and a single arrow rips into one of the goat-legged fey, running it through the thigh. The creature howls in pain and mutters in a tongue that sounds of the birds and wind in trees.
The satyrs give themselves to the strength of their arms, launching themselves at the Fist, the call for blood eager on their tongues. Two launch themselves across the ground. They charge with steel tooth bared and horns lowered, like the animals they are. One strikes at Ozak, plunging his blade deep into the warrior's side. The Daggertooth's battle sweat coats the blade the half-man pulls out. Another closes the distance with Jugag, ending the needle-thrower's advantage, and thrusting his blade into the warrior's thigh. A third stamps and pounds the ground with its hooves. Smoke pours from its nostrils, mist flies from beneath its hooves. They merge together before the goatman. But, Shakraal's Rull-storm envelops the fey, piercing him with lightning. The mist of its spell disappears, shattered by the power of her smoke!
Stabs at Ozak.
another steps out to attack Jugag
no crit T_T
Third one.. does a thing.
Shakraal moves her cloud to him. does he take damage?
spell lost
Shakraal: aggressive thundecloud 2/4 left
Choot, Thoku, Kern: suggestion 2/4 rounds left
Ozak laughs at the Satyr in front of him. "What do you think you're going to do with that little pig-sticker?" He looks the satyr up and down.
He spins his axe and strikes.
Choot Othul: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Jugag: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Kern Dead-Eye: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Ozak: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Shakraal Kringsdaughter: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Thoku Blood Drinker: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Satyr: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Ozak laughs at the Satyr in front of him. "What do you think you're going to do with that little pig-sticker?" He looks the satyr up and down. He finds the fey's strength wanting. Daggertooth spins his bone-beak in a circle and strikes. Silver and gold blood sprays out into the air as the bonebeak cleaves deep into the forest-spirit's side. The creature howls in agony, rage burning in its eyes, yet it still stands, somehow remembering the mettle of its blood.
Shakraal: aggressive thundecloud 1/4 left
Choot, Thoku, Kern: suggestion 1/4 rounds left LAST ROUND
-Posted with Wayfinder
Thoku the Bloodied One wrote: so we have been moving away for 4 rounds at 30 feet a round...so it will take 2 rounds for us to be able to get in combat? Remember you can also run 4x your speed (3x in heavy armor)
-Posted with Wayfinder
Choot shakes his head and realizes he was duped. He begins to run towards the battle raising his holy symbol aloft he chants, "Devouer, tear at the souls!"
Jugag would not let the satyr set his course. He stepped back and released two more arrows.
Choot Othul: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Jugag: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Kern Dead-Eye: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Ozak: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Shakraal Kringsdaughter: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Thoku Blood Drinker: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Satyr: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Once more, Jugag looses his war-needles, sending them from the clouds like Rull's own spears. They run one of the goat-legged fey through, sprouting from the earth and nourished by the creature's own waters. It howls in pain and blows on its hand, sending glittering dirt into the archer's eyes.
FAILED!
he falls a sleep for 4 minutes!
The sand clings to Jugag's eyes, and pulls him down the ground, asleep. While a second spirit of casts a great smoke up on the earth.
Ozak's foe turns to strike at the Daggetooth with his steel fang. But, the blade strikes only air as the warrior dodges out of the way.
1 does a thing
other one: attacks Ozak
miss
Jugag: sleep for 4 minutes. A slap or damage will fix him.
Thoku shakes his head as he coughs out some smoke the roars in furry as he realizes the trick that was played on him. Running live a rabid wolf the bloody one charges beck to his meal...
-Posted with Wayfinder
Kern and Grell, having recovered from the assault against Kern's mind, come charging back into the fray. They flank the nearest satyr and both strike at him.
"Thrull defend the fallen Orc!"
Choot orders Thrull to stand above Jugag lest the Satyr take advantage of his spell and split the throat of the archer. Choot then smiles as a dark arrow issues froth from his holy symbol.
"Be destroyed!" He yells at the Satyr as his dark bolt of energy flies!
Channel Ray
Negative Energy Damage
The crimson orc comes bounding on all fours a blood read froth building at the corners of his open maw. The blood chief attacks the first goat he sees. His jaws snap out with a mad furry...
-Posted with Wayfinder
Choot Othul: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Jugag: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Kern Dead-Eye: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Ozak: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Shakraal Kringsdaughter: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Thoku Blood Drinker: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Satyr: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Strong Ozak sees Jugag go down. He grits his teeth and spins his axe furiously and strikes again. His bone-beak cuts down, splitting the fey in half. Battle-water rains from the sky, covering the Daggertooth in silver-tinted gold. The goat-legged falls in two halves, cleaved in train by the strength of Ozak's arm!
Kern and Grell flank their own for, now that they have freed themselves from the spirit's cowardly smokes. One-eye strikes orc-steel while his battle companion pounces with fang and claw. The beast's weapons scratch and gnaw at the satyr's hide, tangling in the forest spirit's hairy hide. But, the hunter's aim is true, and his bone-beak drinks deep into the golden life-waters of the goat-leg. The creature lets out a mighty Rull-noise as his body strains beneath the sweat of battle.
The crimson orc comes bounding on all fours a blood read froth building at the corners of his open maw. The blood chief attacks the first goat he sees. His jaws snap out with a mad furr, shattering bone in his mighty jaws. Spirit-water runs sweet and rich on the Bloodied One's tongue, tasting of strong honey and feast-drink. The chief pulls with his great shoulders, but the forest-goat's legs are bound to thesoil by smoke-filled vines and he stays his footing.
"Thrull defend the fallen Orc!"
Choot orders Thrull to stand above Jugag lest the Satyr take advantage of his spell and split the throat of the archer. The corpse-slave moans and shuffles forward, standing astride the fallen archer like a faithful hound long broken to its master's will. Choot then smiles as a dark arrow issues froth from his holy symbol.
"Be destroyed!" He yells at the Satyr as his dark bolt of energy flies! A spear of darkness that eats at the light of the moon, a greater shadow against the black of the forest night hurtles from the shaman's hand and bursts through the spirit's chest. It gasps in horrors as black vines curl up fro the wound, feeding on its soul and not sending it to Great Zagresh. The spirit grows gaunt and grey, it's body withering and flaking into rotten dust. It collapses to the earth a pile of ash and dust.
Rage fills the satyr's eyes, as it brings its pipes to its lips.
Choot Othul:
Jugag:
Kern Dead-Eye:
Ozak:
Shakraal Kringsdaughter:
Thoku Blood Drinker:
More sand fills the eyes of the Warriors, but only Choot succumbs and falls to the ground in sleep.
[ooc]everyone burn choot and jugag are up!
Thoku roars with furry sliver blood running down his neck and chest. His body tenses as thoku steel cord mussels harden "Your death cries bring this orc blood joy, keep that music paying until your heart is beating in my claws!!!" The blody chief yells with a dreadful roar he attacks....
"Nice of you to join us! Hah!" Ozak calls to Thoku.
Ozak rushes around behind the remaining satyr.
He then takes a big swing with skullbiter. "Behind you, goatface!"
"Nice of you to join us! Hah!" Ozak calls to Thoku. His challenge to the Chief of the Bleeding Storm carries across the field as he charges the goat-legged fey.
miss
They fey turns driving his dagger towards fierce Daggertooth. Its war-fang is soft and scratches Ozak's armor. The move is wild and reckless, but does not the strength of blood-rage in it. His thews are puny and weak, and his prowess is small as well, he leaves himself open to the Badaxe's mighty blow. Thoku's warrior bring his bone-beak down in a powerful over-handed chop, cleaving the forest-spirit nearly in twain! Golden water showers the Fist, yet the satyr still stands on wobbling legs. Perhaps there is strength in their kind after all.
Then, dread Thoku stands before the weakling, and the spirt knows fear! For, with a single slash of his claws, the Bloodied One tears open the spirit's throat, and the creature falls to the soil, dead.
Burn the Dark, Slay the Pure' Bind the Screams to pave the road.
Slay the Pure: kill an innocent. This could be a good spirit (i.e. a fey) or a child, it could also be one of the will o wisps, since they are filled with pure rage at the orcs.
Burn the dark: set the corpse on fire
Bind the screams: Hold the lantern the Crone gave Shakraal (and i forgot to mention) above the flames and trap them inside.
Pave the road: the lit lantern will show the way.
"Alright, we did what was needed. Now set the thing afire and use that lantern. Then we can concern ourselves with annoying fey no longer."
Thoku spits on the body of the last goat "take them then have the tribe dig a fire pit for these goats. Then we take they're souls an use the fire pit as a latrine. They will be a fitting end for using their foul smoke to mess with my mind..." with that command the bloody one turns back to camp...
-Posted with Wayfinder
Choot shakes his head and stands, "Stupid creatures..."
He then heads to Jugag still likely lying on the ground and heals him, "It is not time for you to be taken by the Destroyer".
Cure Moderate Wounds
Far from Ghost Light Marsh, the slaves obey the commands of the Chief of the Bleeding Storm and dig a great pit in the moist earth of the field. They labor intensely, screaming beneath the whips of their overseers. Their blood rains sweetly upon the earth. Then, the crone guts an elf slave, dismembering her body and thrusting her limbs at the four corners of the pit. She wraps the limbs in the tree-slave's entrails, and writes upon them in symbols sacred to the Fire God. Finally, she breaks the ribs and spine and hips, laying them in an intricate pattern that connects the four limbs at the top of the pit. She hollows out the skull and gives the flesh and organs to Mighty Thoku to do with as he pleases. Then she holds the elf skull to each of the slain fey, draining them of their life waters until the skull over flows with glittering liquid.
Burning hot coals are thrust into the slaves' mouths, and then bound shut with ropes made of elf-hair as they are doused with pitch and their limbs broken. They are tossed into the pit, their muffled screams growing to a fevered pitch as the coals burn their way through flesh and set the pitch ablaze.
She anoints Thoku and his fist in symbols sacred to the Chiefs in Fire and Blood with the golden life of the slain forest-spirits, and washing the sweet-smelling smoke of burning manflesh over their powerful bodies. The liquid burns each on forehead, tongue, and chest. The smoke fills their lungs, and they feel their thews thicken and swell with strength and vigor. She anoints her mask last with three streaks of golden blood. She nods, and warriors, each naked save for a short loincloth of sewn elf ears, grab each spirt-corpse with iron hooks and throw them bodily upon the burning human corpses. The warriors heartily from the elf skull, draining it of its contents and then boldly walk into the pit as the fire rages to a burning inferno, standing between the thrust limbs of the slain elf.
The Crone holds out her hand once more and a shaman brings her the lantern. The fire rages and changes color from a hellish orange to a putrid green. The sacred color of Sezelrian. The Crone walks to the very edge of the fire her cloak flies free by the heat-wind of the pyre and she bares herself to the Chiefs in Fire and Blood. She hols the goblin-head aloft, its mouth and eyes open. The green fire pulses and sways pulling away from the pit, as though it seeks to claim the lives of the Tribe. But, the limbs of the elf grab the fire and keep it firm. The orc warriors burst into flame, their ash swirling into the air and swirling around the fire. Not once did they scream, such is the strength of Thoku's tribe!
They cage the fire which screams with a triple-voice. Rage and fury are bundled with the sound of pipes sounding and trees snapping as the fire screams and is pulled into the open mouth of the lantern. The head closes shut and it glows with a grim, green light as the Crone's smoke binds the fire within.
The pit fills with bubbling black liquid the consistency of congealed blood as the fire is extinguished; it holds the scent of tar and rotting meat and burning trees. Green fires burn on the surface showing the image of three goat-legged forest spirits being stabbed over and over by four powerfully built orcs.
Choot grins in delight at the ritual. Pave the road. ..
The next step he awaits or does something more need to be done...
The whispers and screams describing this new tribe has been but a faint, barely heard gasp, compared to it's thunderous reality!
Arkhan watches with naked delight the magnificent display. The Druid watches with an expert eye the dark crone's majestic ritual. The 1/2 orc watches with an aggressive anticipation of events nearly to fruition.
Blue eyes burn cold. Grey-green skin scarred with tattoos of The Thunderer. Blood-red robes stitched with wind blown clouds of lightning.
This is truly a Tribe!
Choot's head swivels about when Arkhan makes his proclamation, "Yes. Yes now you see the might of the Bleeding Storm! It is good that we brought you into the fold for there is Wisdom in all of the followers of the Gods, of course all such Wisdom will perish as it exists only in the minds of the living who draw breath because it pleases the Destroyer to snuff it out in inexplicable and unexpected ways... What is your name?"
The druid turns his frosty gaze upon the speaker.
A member of the Fist!
He nods his hooded head in respect.
Arkhan Silvanesti. Storm Druid of Rull. The Thunderer is please by the sweet sounding noise! All shall fear and tremble at the approach of The Bleeding Storm!
The bloody chief takes the gift standing from his throne of bones eats a portion of them then tosses the remains on to his throne. The entails splash in to the seat coveing most of it with the remains, the the throne seams to shift as small cry can be herd of a hunger not from this world. The entails hiss with a black steam and the seat of power shifts as of the bones move around to a new position as the blood and guts are devoured by the movement of the skulls. The shift stops once all the "food" is gone and the throne sits with a almost holy white color to it....
Thoku feel invigorated and renewed he nods to the crone to bring him the lantern "you have done well, your chief envites you to eat with the fist tonight before we set out as the blood breaks the great cave." the bloodied commands the tribe to set twice as many guards up tonight. "we dont know when the rest of these goats will try and raise thier small spears against us so keep your steel skin hard and your tusk sharp we still sit in enemy lands" he then turns with anger showing hard on his face when he hears the question this new orcs voice is implying "this is a tribe? Was there even a question in the power the bleeding storm commands... who is this small gray thing to question me...."
Thoku growls as he moves next to his cleric slamming a thunderous call with his fist as it hits the chiefs steels chest. "who is the small tusk you speak with and why dose is voice hint at a doubt in the bleeding storms power "
-Posted with Wayfinder