M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
hahaha perfect time checking in for me! I saw that muahahahaha now I have the knowledge which means I have the power
As night falls, the Frosthamar rocks gently at anchor on the vast lake. It's noticeably warmer here than on the other side of the mountains; even though the evening is clear, the temperature doesn't quite drop below freezing.
Wonder why that is... oh, right, Knowledge [Geography], never mind.
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Jax is lying in his bunk half asleep when he hears the sound. It's a faint vibration, like a distant chime... but not distant. It's nearby.
Very nearby.
"What it the name of the Nine Hells does a fellow have to do to get a decent night's sleep around here?" Jax rummages through his goods, looking for the source of the sound... and then freezes as he realizes where it's coming from. It's his sword. His new-forged black blade. It's humming or chiming faintly, like a tuning fork that has been struck.
Jax carefully pulls the blade a few inches out of the scabbard... and then slides it back in, quickly. Because it's not just humming. Underneath that vibration, mixed in with it, are other sounds. Words. The sword is talking softly to itself in an unknown language.
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Dren:
What are you having? I'm going to play late night poker and taking margarita tonight
HP 169/169; AC:37/21/29; Saves: +22/+23/+20; Init +10; Per +28(See Invisibility), CMD 42
Misc:
Effects: Resist Cold 30, Fly 30', Telepathic Bond
Languages: Common, Infernal, Draconic, Abyssal, Auran, Aquan, Undercommon, Goblin ..so two out of three of those :D
DM:
Jax will look about and see if anyone else is noticing the sound. He'll rub his eyes and wonder if someone slipped him something. After that, he'll try shaking the sword...as if that might make it stop.
I wish I could recall if the Lore Warden's ritual mentioned..side effects like this.
There's no reason to kill the crew or destroy the boat. I'm sure the Dark Lord could make use of them both. They are easily cowed and a boat is worth a decent amount of gold.
When Jax makes this statement, the Judge turns on him glowering.
Did you not hear the command of our sponsor. This ship is to be sent to the bottom of the lake, and its crew and captain are to be no more. This mission is for the Dark Lord. We will not risk the mission for the hope of some small profit.
With that the Judge turns and ignores any response.
Jax and DM:
Jax Naismith wrote:
At some point after the group conversation, Jax will pull the Judge aside.
I recently recalled something that Irin mentioned back at the manse. When we first meet the Fourth knot, you must be the one to step forward first. And you must step forward fearlessly. Honestly, it sounded like something you would do anyway so I forgot about it. However, I figured you would like to know.
The Judge nods appreciatively to Jax.
Thank you. Irin's words have been valuable and promethean to this point. I shall consider what she has said when the time comes.
I plan on stepping forward. If I am not available to post as I continue to be quite busy with moving, then please DMPC me appropriately such that I step forward first.
Regarding the leaf armor. If Tohram can wear it under his cloak so that it is mostly concealed, then he will do so. If not, then we can keep it in the haversack for later sale.
____________
When the Captain is reminiscing about the wolves, the Judge walks up next to him:
Yes, and those wolves are loyal to their pack. They hunt like a pack and feed as a pack. An offense against one gives cause for a response by all.
It eventually does stop. But it's going to do it occasionally from time to time now. If you wear the sword normally, it is possible that someone standing close to you might notice the humming and murmuring.
Yes, and those wolves are loyal to their pack. They hunt like a pack and feed as a pack. An offense against one gives cause for a response by all.
"Yes, and all follow the pack leader. Who is ever the strongest, or the most clever, or the most cruel." The Captain nods thoughtfully. "Truly they are beasts of Homeland. Perhaps that is why I was a little surprised to see them here. But ever has Homeland sent her children far away."
The next morning, the ship picks up a fresh breeze and moves swiftly over the surface of the lake.
The Captains stares into the sky for long moments, seeming almost to sniff the breeze. Then he turns to you. "If this wind holds, we'll be there by nightfall."
The Judge smiles at the Captain's comment:
That is well. We unload and then head south. If our luck holds, we will be toasting the return to land in but a few days.
The Judge thinks for a minute and then sort of says to nobody, as though thinking out loud, but so that the Captain is sure to overhear:
I will have to watch Edmin on the toasting though.
"Oh, does he have a problem with the drink? Yes, that is common with sailors."
"I had a hand once who would come on board drunk. Once that can be allowed, but twice is sloppiness. So I gave him seawater to drink and tied him to the mast. He raved and screamed for hours and then died. After that, I had no more problems with drinking sailors." The Captain spits again, thoughtfully. "Truly is it said that Death solves all problems. No man, no problem." After a few more quiet moments, he turns and strolls away.
I'm going to try a bit more of Sir Edmin's backstory, though in a different voice -- tell it historically rather than as POV. Edmin, feel free to chime in. Note that this is free for anyone to read; it's only spoilered for length.
So: we all remember kindly old Sir Nonus, right? And what happened to him? Well, seven years after that...
Sir Edmin in the West, Part 1:
Seven years after the death of Sir Nonus, Edmin Al'Roth was well on his way to becoming an Alerion Knight. He was everything a young knight should be: disciplined, cleanly, honorable, a skilled man with many weapons. And passionate -- absolutely devoted to his service, to the Kingdom, and to the King.
(Oh, he had a temper. But it was well under control. And yes, deep inside he sometimes brooded on the great wrong done Sir Nonus. But that... must have been a mistake, a rare and tragic error. And anyway, he would make it all right when /he/ became an Alerion Knight.)
Now, Sir Edmin was assigned to lead a company in the western town of Farholde. There was regular fighting with the savages of the western forests, so he saw action often enough.
And so he was happy. Happier than he had ever been. Why not? He had an active life, filled with activity and ambition. His men respected and admired him, and followed him into battle trusting his judgment. (Which, indeed, was usually quite good.) His superiors approved of him. He was coming close to being one of the youngest ever appointed an Alerion Knight, which gave a spur to his every action. Farholde was a lively, pretty town and a pleasant post.
And he had a lover and a dear good friend, which are two things that will help lift almost anyone to happiness.
The lover was named Dagny, and they had been together several months. She was a native of Farholde, but had spent some years on the mainland, travelling -- she said -- as a merchant. The color of her skin and eyes suggested that she was of the blood of the Caer Bryr, but what of it? That was true of many people in Farholde, perhaps most. There were things in her past she would not talk about, but that too was true of many people -- including Sir Edmin himself. So, if he sometimes suspected that she had some secret -- if sometimes suddenly changed the subject of a conversation, or very occasionally disappeared for a day -- well, they say that love is wisest that closes one eye.
Though not, as it turns out, in this case. In part, Dagny was just as she seemed: a lovely young woman, intelligent and witty, a skilled singer and player, also very quick with figures. And she was, in fact, very fond of young Sir Edmin. (In love? Who can say.) She was not a fiend or monster in disguise, nor either a witch or a sorceress or the priestess of some hidden evil cult. But she was not exactly as she seemed. In this context, it should be noted that she seemed a very devout young woman, and regularly attended services at Farholde's Temple of Mitra.
(This Temple was unusually large for a town of Farholde's size, and unusually rich. The Conqueror himself had laid the founding stone, and endowed it with vast tracts of land. For the Conqueror, as all know, had wrested the Borderlands from the savages and driven them back into their final refuge in the trackless forests of the farthest West. And so this Church had grown most remarkably wealthy, and its clergy were numerous, wordly, and prone perhaps a bit to fat.)
What else shall we say of lovely Dagny? Two things, perhaps. First, she had a strong aversion -- one could almost call it an mania -- against physical compulsion or constraint of any sort. She did not care to be confined or cornered in any way at all, and a gesture as simple as a restraining hand placed on her arm would bring a reaction of surprising violence. Second, that while she liked Sir Edmin very much, she did not very much like his friend.
The friend was named Brother Dunnigan. The Brother's assignment was to be a healer and spiritual advisor to the garrison, and so he and Sir Edmin were thrown together. And while knights and men of Mitra are not often the best of friends, Edmin and Dunnigan were a great and fine exception. They were almost the same age, Brother Dunnigan just a year or two older, and they were both ambitious in the service. Brother Dunnigan was sincerely and truly devout, while Sir Edmin gave Mitra only that minimal service and respect required by his station, but this was less a problem than you might think; Brother Dunnigan, no fool, did not expect knights to be particularly devout, and anyway he enjoyed their occasional mild disagreements over a beer. For Brother Dunnigan was not a teetotaling priest -- far from it -- and the two young men drank a great deal of beer together. And so Sir Edmin came to greatly trust and esteem good Brother Dunnigan, and equally so in reverse.
Now, one summer it so happened that there was a strangeness in Farholde. A number of children had gone missing from the city and the villages nearby. Children are always going missing, of course. And the regular Border warfare produced a certain number of orphans, who are missed even less than most. (Shortly after the conclusion of this story, a fine new orphanage would be built in Farholde, for exactly this reason.) But Talingarde was a well-run kingdom, and the town Mayor and border Governor were both conscientious men. So after some careful checking of records, they came to realize that more than a dozen children had disappeared in just a few months. This was, it was agreed, both disturbing and suspicious.
Brother Dunnigan happened to be attendant upon one of these meetings, replacing the secretary to the Governor, who was out sick. He privately swore to investigate these strange goings on, and to get quite thoroughly to the bottom of them.
What else shall we say of Brother Dunnigan? Little more. For the Brother was a man as transparent as water. He seemed to be kind, and he was; he seemed to be devout, and he was; he seemed a man of deep and almost boundless good cheer, and for the most part, he was. If he had a flaw, it was that he was perhaps a bit too meticulous, too thorough, and maybe just the smallest bit dogmatic in his notions of right and wrong. But this can hardly be considered a flaw in a loyal servant of the bright god Mitra.
Well, and he did not much care for lovely Dagny. Men of the cloth are sometimes suspicious of beautiful young women, and such was the case here. He did his best to conceal it; but since he was a man with no talent for dissimulation, Sir Edmin was all too aware that his friend distrusted his lover, and that his lover disliked his friend. And this grieved him not a little. But it seemed a small enough shadow on a life that was otherwise bright and full of hope.
Male Human Oracle (FC) 15 Init: +8 Perc: +0 AC:24/14/20 F:+13 R:+14 W:+15 HP:124/124 Freedom of movement, Resist Cold/30, Air Walk 30'
Dan and anyone else except Edmin :):
Interesting. I can see this going in a predictable manner (bad priest with a penchant for molesting and then disposing of little boys) but I see an opportunity to go in a different direction...one that would push Edmin to the dark side even further.
What if lovely Dagny were to become "involved" with the brother. They don't like each other, but came to an "accommodation" so to speak. Two of his trusted, using each other for what they can not find in Edmin. Oh the pain...and what is to blame, the all to good priest for a god that is a hypocrite...the anger, the blame...
As evening is falling, the Frosthamar approaches the mouth of a river that empties into the lake from the north. Where the river joins the lake, there is some kind of large encampment on the shore. You can see tents and structures of some sort, and the smoke of many fires rising.
There is a single dock that protrudes from the shore. The Frosthamar makes for it.
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Xenfal stands on the deck ready to head ashore.
Bummed we have not gotten a way to see the captins quarters yet...some super villains we are
Before the Frosthamar arrives, the Captain is snapping orders at the sailors. They begin ripping up sections of the deck. (You had no idea this was even possible.) The lower deck is exposed, with its dozens of crates and packages. In a few moments they have also brought up a simple block and tackle to help swing the heavier pieces off the ship.
The Frosthamar glides up beside the dock. The sun is setting at the far end of the lake, and the shadows of evening are growing long.
There doesn't seem to be anyone here to meet you.
"And so I make delivery of my cargo, as I swore and contracted. Half my work is done." Captain Odenkirk turns and snaps a command in Norspik at the sailors, who begin unloading the crates onto the dock.
DC 17 Perception check:
There really doesn't seem to be anyone here to meet you.
DC 22 Perception check:
Whoops, wait a moment. There are four bugbears lurking in the shadows around the dock. (Wow, how do creatures that big just blend like that? Creepy.) They are watching the Frosthamar intently. They don't look happy to see you.
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Perc 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Xen wanders over to the Judge. Over there right near the dock are 4 creatures watching us. Kind of ugly. Xenfal says frowning at them.
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Edmin climbs over the side of the ship and onto the dock, the knights ax held low at his right side as he looks towards the camp.
Why in the hells did it have to be fargin bugbears? Icehole savages, know nothing but death and destruction. Creepy bastages.
He never takes his eyes off the camp as he waits for his companions.
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Xen will follow the judge, Della sharpened and ready
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Bugbears I believe. I have come across them on occasion in my travels but I know little about them.
The Judge looks to Jax:
You can speak the language of goblins, can you not?
He then turns and looks at Edmin:
Hold your axe warrior. These are tools, we are not here to fight them. That time may come, but it is not now. We are arming them for the forthcoming war. If they should turn on us, then you may slaughter all you wish.
Finally, after hearing Jax's response:
Lets speak with these bugbears, they will know where the Fourth is.
Something is coming down the path to the dock. Some sort of... procession.
It takes you a few moments to realize what you're seeing. There's a single giant humanoid, at least 10 feet tall. Behind it shamble several bugbears. Bringing up the rear is a single humanoid figure carrying a staff.
That's not the tricky bit, though. No. It's that the giant is obviously dead. It's a huge, walking, shambling corpse -- filmed-over eyes, patches of skin rotted off, bits of white skull visible where part of the face has sloughed away. A moment later you realize that the bugbears are, too; their fur is matted, their eyes are sunken, and their walk is the same shambling shuffle as the giant's.
The Captain snaps an order and the sailors quickly withdraw on board.
The Judge waits for the undead procession to arrive.
To the others:
Draw no weapons, but be prepared. The Cardinal did not speak of the walking dead, but they are a much more reliable tool than chaotic creatures such as bugbears. We shall soon discover whether this is part of the Fourth, or merely a challenge to be overcome.
Female Aasimar Wizard 6 (HP 53/53; AC 18/18/15; CMD 16 Fort +5; Ref +7 Will +8; Init +3; Perception +11; Darkvision 60 ft)
Douglas Muir 406 wrote:
Quick check: can everyone mention which languages you speak? Does anyone have Goblin? Draconic? Elvish?
I have asked this before, if I have an Aasimar, Wizard, Int 18, Linguistics 8, how many languages would I have been allowed at 1st level.
I wanted to have languages that 'fit' my character, I would have had picked 'Norsespeak' or what the captain speaks, or another tongue in the North because that would fit Cуровую back story but as it stands I know little of DM's well crafted campaign.
DM is there any area the equivalent of Russia or Irrisen in your campaign world?
As it stands I have Trade Tongue, Celestial, Draconic, Elven, Fey, Frost Giant, Goblin, Infernal, Ignan
Goblin was a late addition because I learned we would be dealing with bugbears, and I would believe the race of witches I would hail from would have some form of abused slave race in addition to humans and giants.
Female Aasimar Wizard 6 (HP 53/53; AC 18/18/15; CMD 16 Fort +5; Ref +7 Will +8; Init +3; Perception +11; Darkvision 60 ft)
Douglas Muir 406 wrote:
They begin ripping up sections of the deck. (You had no idea this was even possible.) The lower deck is exposed, with its dozens of crates and packages. In a few moments they have also brought up a simple block and tackle to help swing the heavier pieces off the ship.
That's actually a cool visual, and practical.
Perception for the area of the dock 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
M DEAD KILLED BY DMDM Lore Warden 2/Arcane Duelist 3
Stats:
HP 4/45; AC 20(25 w def/CE)/16(21)/14; CMD 19; Init +5; Perception +4; Fort +7 (8 vs Poison), Ref +9, Will +3; Fire Res 1; BP 10/12; Spells Lvl 1 3/4 Initiative +5
Xen stops and returns to Zimu.
MAybe we could spend a little quiet time together? Xen offers to go below decks with her.
The four bugbears that were lurking around the dock quietly recede as the shambling procession lurches forward. (They're still around. But they're putting some distance between themselves and the undead.)
The dead giant steps onto the dock. 1d20 ⇒ 20 It supports his weight. He advances to the pile of crates before the Frosthamar. A reek of carrion washes over the deck. The bugbears pile forward behind him. The person with the staff stays on the shore at the end of the dock, about 50' away. He's human-sized and moves like a living person, but he's hooded so you can't get a good look at his face.
Male Human Oracle (FC) 15 Init: +8 Perc: +0 AC:24/14/20 F:+13 R:+14 W:+15 HP:124/124 Freedom of movement, Resist Cold/30, Air Walk 30'
They are fodder and have no stealth. At this point they would be a hinderance, not help. The judge can summon creatures much more powerful than simple zombies.
Figure by this point we can see them clearly and can take our time looking at them. Dren might be assuming some things but he thinks they are just regluar zombies.
They begin ripping up sections of the deck. (You had no idea this was even possible.) The lower deck is exposed, with its dozens of crates and packages. In a few moments they have also brought up a simple block and tackle to help swing the heavier pieces off the ship.
That's actually a cool visual, and practical.
I'm assuming that you've already disposed of the Soothsayer's pathetic, mangled corpse. Otherwise, someone is in for an interesting surprise.
'When were you last home captain? And when will you see home again?'
The Captain does not appear particularly happy to be addressed by you, but he does answer. "Years ago, and never again. There are too many blood-feuds against me. A forest of sharp blades would be raised, demanding either my head or were-gild -- blood price as you call it, heavy pouches of bright gold. I could not carry enough gold to pay them all." The Captain spits once more. "And if I could, I would not. What is mine, I keep." And with that, he turns and walks away.
