The second guard, injured and alone against the monsters, screams, "Warden! Help! Your magic's not working! Do something!" He slashes desperately at Sir Edmin.
All the guards have gone. They'll be able to raise the portcullis at the end of next round -- but that's a FRA, so they won't be able to chase you until the round after. So this round, only Surviving Guard and the two crossbowmen can attack.
New round, everyone can act. Morsum and Bref are right in front of the portcullis. The Judge is prone on the causeway. Sir Edmin and Grumblejack are in melee with the last guard. Zimu has slipped past him. (Aren't you going to help that poor man?) Haven't heard from Jax, but nobody has interacted with him, so he can still take his action from last round as well as this one.
M DEAD!! KILLED BY EVIL EVIL DMDM!! Rogue1/Barb (Feral)1 temp hp 14/17 and 9 con (HP 24/25+4 when Raging; AC21/17/15(-2 Raging) ; CMD 16 (18 Rage) Fort +4(6); Ref +8; Will +1( 3); Init +6; Perception +5/6 for Traps; Darkvision
Bref dreams.
How did I get here? He finds himself in a void, floating with random objects floating all around him. Hey my rolling pin! My hat! Blackerly's eyeballs! Bref begins to scramble attempting to swim towards the objects. Goblin angry!
The desperate guard raises his sword. He will stop these monsters or remember how we used to look at clouds when we were kids? Just like on the hillside and look at clouds. There's a weasel. There's a whale. Good times. When was the last time I did that? Must have been years. Clouds.
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
"Bah!" Grumblejack snorts in disgust and walks on past the surviving guard.
The arch leads into a small stone building which was obviously once part of a much larger structure. On one side is a small guardroom; on the other, an even smaller office. The road outward leads through a second archway, which is blocked by a metal gate. The gate is sturdy, but low, rising only to six feet. (It is intended to stop carriages and riders who do not have a proper pass. No need for a portcullis, since there's already one at the Guardhouse.) It is closed by a simple lock. You can smash it or simply climb over it (DC 6 Climb check).
Jax trots through the arch and climbs over the gate without difficulty. He pauses just a moment, savoring. Freedom!
Beyond, the paved road continues inland for perhaps two hundred feet, climbing upward at a steep angle. Then it abruptly turns to the left. According to the map in the library, it will head along the shore for several miles, passing through a small fishing hamlet and then a larger village, before turning inland and intersecting with Moor Road.
On the right of the road stretches a bleak expanse of reeds, their dead stalks rustling in the chill November wind. It looks like the ground here is boggy and damp. This must be Toadmoor...
As discussed earlier, your options are either to follow the road along the coast or strike directly inland through Toadmoor.
All the guards have gone. They'll be able to raise the portcullis at the end of next round -- but that's a FRA, so they won't be able to chase you until the round after. So this round, only Surviving Guard and the two crossbowmen can attack.
I thought that Morsum had attempted to disable the lifting mechanism, smashing it with the guards sword or something like that. Or are they just going to lift the gate?
I would prefer the road, but will not object too loudly if it is the moors. The Judge's life was not really based around hanging out in cold moors, but he does understand the situation.
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
Jax will continue down the road a little, tugging off the guard's robe and pulling out a sheet of paper. He'll rapidly write a message on it while the others are still playing with the remaining guard.
The map we had had the name of the small vishing village, presumably? Use the key to escape. When you free yourselves, meet me in [Name of small fishing hamlet]
Jax writes the letter with his left hand, using an intricate styling and writing the note in Infernal. He'll tuck the scrap of paper into the guard's shirt pocket and then use one of the knives to rip a the pocket and a large part of the shirt off, tossing it into the mud on the side of the road.
All of those actions will likely take at least, presumably 2 full round actions or so. He'll rush to complete them as quickly as possible before heading into the moor with the rest of the party.
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)
Jax Naismith wrote:
Jax writes the letter with his left hand, using an intricate styling and writing the note in Infernal. He'll tuck the scrap of paper into the guard's shirt pocket and then use one of the knives to rip a the pocket and a large part of the shirt off, tossing it into the mud on the side of the road.
The range is getting long, but the guards behind the portcullis are still firing.
1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 3 - 2 = 21d100 ⇒ 65
1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (16) + 3 - 2 = 171d100 ⇒ 82
That's 1d6 ⇒ 5 points of damage on the Judge. (Please don't forget to keep track of hp -- you don't have any more healing, and you're not out of the woods, er, moors yet.]
Sorry: your Perception was high enough to get a good look around, but you didn't see anything of obvious use or value. You'd need to actually spend a round or two searching the guardroom and/or the office. If you want to do that, no worries -- roll away.
Edmin grins at his new axe as he runs to the gate and climbs over.
"Let us take the road for a bit then turn into the marsh. Maybe we can throw then off."
That's fine. You have two PCs with nice high Survival rolls, so you're not likely to get lost. Yet. -- How far along the road would you like to go? The map showed the fishing village as being about 2-3 miles away.
M DEAD!! KILLED BY EVIL EVIL DMDM!! Rogue1/Barb (Feral)1 temp hp 14/17 and 9 con (HP 24/25+4 when Raging; AC21/17/15(-2 Raging) ; CMD 16 (18 Rage) Fort +4(6); Ref +8; Will +1( 3); Init +6; Perception +5/6 for Traps; Darkvision
Snore...snore...tee hee tee hee hee...snore.
Bref then commences to chew something really large in his sleep.
The office contains records of all passage through the Checkpoint in the last month (older records are in the cabinets in Blackerly's office). There are pens, paper, and a large stamp for punching visitors' papers. A day-old memo from the Warden is lying on the desk, telling the guards to inspect a visiting Inquisitor tomorrow (i.e., today).
This is interesting, but it causes you to lag behind the others. At extreme range, the guards fire their crossbows at you.
1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 3 - 4 = 111d100 ⇒ 78
1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 3 - 4 = 51d100 ⇒ 65
The bolts clatter off the stones nearby without doing you any harm.
Okay. Everyone good with that? Any other preparations before plunging into the marsh?
Also, what is party marching order in the marsh? Heavy hitters (Edwin & Grumblejack) in front? Or do you want Zimu (high Perception, Survival, and Darkvision) leading the way?
Tohram feels the bolt pierce his side, but knowing it is flee or die, he proceeds over the gate followed closely by Morsum carrying Bref. They follow closely behind Edmin who appears to have the best sense of the wild from what has been said up until this point.
_______________
Morsum and Tohram will stay in the middle of the group with Morsum carrying Bref.
The marshes are not easy going. Most of the landscape is simply reeds (now stiff and brown with the autumn) growing out of mud. Where the ground is a bit lower, there are small shallow pools; where it is a bit higher, the earth is dry -- but these areas are covered with thick bushes, often defended by sharp thorns. Here and there a low willow tree rises above the bog. Your feet squelch into the cold mud with every step. Perhaps the only consolation is that autumn is far enough advanced that there are no clouds of stinging insects.
The mud counts as difficult terrain -- half movement. You'll get one more survival check to get out of here.
Tohram walks silently, the wound in his side causing him pain and discomfort with every step.Despite his pain, he carefully watches the stars and pays attention to the breeze to help keep the group from getting lost.
M DEAD!! KILLED BY EVIL EVIL DMDM!! Rogue1/Barb (Feral)1 temp hp 14/17 and 9 con (HP 24/25+4 when Raging; AC21/17/15(-2 Raging) ; CMD 16 (18 Rage) Fort +4(6); Ref +8; Will +1( 3); Init +6; Perception +5/6 for Traps; Darkvision
After perhaps an hour of walking you pause and, by some unspoken consensus, all stop for a few moments' rest. You are deep into the marsh now, a bleak sea of reed with an occasional island of thorny bushes. There's no sound but the endless sad rustling of the dead stalks.
You have left a fairly obvious trail through the reeds. On the positive side, there seem to be no signs of pursuit.
The Judge looks up at the sky. "The weather is changing," he says. It is true: a mass of dark clouds is coming up rapidly from the north, the direction toward which you are traveling. The wind is shifting: sudden gusts flatten the reeds.
Edmin looks at the dark clouds approaching and shakes his head. "I know we are tired and hurt but we need to use this storm to our advantage and keep moving. Hopefully any pursuit will be held up and signs of our passing will be erased."
The knight readjusts his gear and grins at the others. " As we said in my old life, you can get all the rest you need when you are dead."
You have paused for a moment by the side of one of the innumerable black pools that dot the marsh. You're in single file along what passes for a trail in this trackless waste -- the water on your left, a thick bank of thorny bushes on your right.
