Doug M's Way of the Wicked (Inactive)

Game Master Douglas Muir 406

"Ain't any rocks around here," says Grumblejack. He is looking thoughtfully at the Judge, as if mentally estimating just how far he could throw you.

Whispering

'It could also be an alarm, one we would NOT want to trigger. Perhaps we see where the lines lead us?'

Hearing Cy, Tohram tries to see where the strands lead to.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Seeing nothing: Ok, I can set off the trap. But I need to send Morsum home to do this and if there is a battle, he will not be here to help us.

Morsum then carefully places Bref on the ground.

Tohram makes a gesture and suddenly you see Morsum suddenly begin to lose his physical attributes as he disappears into a shadow which then merges to become Tohram's shadow.

Tohram then makes a different gesture and suddenly you see a nightmarishly malformed eagle appear with a squawk. Tohram then directs the eagle to fly over and grab the top strand with its talons.

I am standing 40 feet from the trap as I send the eagle to set it off.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

With shocking suddenness what had seemed a patch of identical bush suddenly swings open, like a door. Something bursts out and lunges at the eagle.

1d20 ⇒ 10

CRUNCH

The giant spider's fangs sink into the eagle's back. The eagle shrieks and then goes limp. The spider begins withdrawing slowly back into the hole in the bank -- a silk-lined cavity big enough for a large man, fronted by a section of "bush" that is really bits of branch carefully held together by silk threads.

Anyone who can beat an 18 Init can attack the spider. Otherwise, you'll need to pry open the "door" of its lair.

Subtlety? Sigh.

Cуровую will insist in not setting off the trap if at all possible.

If the group still wishes to then she and Bref's limp form will be 10 feet behind the judge's shadow.

Posted at the same time as DM.

Damn, when I first read that post it screamed spider-like thing to me.

Init:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

I don't know maybe we should--oh nevermind look at that. Let's just go around the bloody thing.

DM

Initiative 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

Crossbow if I get a shot 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Options. (1) Attack it. (2) Try to go around it by detouring out into the water. It's not clear how deep the water is. (3) Retrace your steps and look for a way around completely. This will require a DC 14 Survival check to avoid getting lost. (If you roll the check, I will assume that you're doing this.) (4) Step carefully over the threads and hope it's busy eating the eagle.

Init: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Edmin jumps back a step and finally starts to move forward as the spider retreats back into it's lair. As if thinking better of his actions, the knight keeps his beautiful axe at the ready and looks around at the others. "I agree with Jax. Did you see the size of that thing? Yeah, time for us to get out of here."

Init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Tohram smiles as the trap is set off and the spider lunges out. As soon as he sees the eagle caught, Tohram begins to summon another eagle, which immediately dispels the first eagle back to its fiendish home - likely surprising the spider as to the loss of its meal.

Cast Summon Monster I - Fiendish Eagle.

We can go around if someone can find a path.

Past toad and spider ...

So... 1, 2, 3, 4, or something else entirely?

Finding a new path around the spider.

Survival: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21

A natural 20!

An hour after facing the spider, you find yourself climbing out of the marsh. Somewhere beyond the rain the sun is rising, and night has given way to gray twilight. A barrier looms out of the shadows ahead of you; after a moment, you realize that it is a stone wall or dike. A quick scramble to the top of it brings you out onto a road. This is Moor Road... and just a few hundred yards away is a large mansion house. A single light burns in an upper window.

As you approach the house, the rain begins to come down harder.

Looking to Edmin.
Were we supposed to meet our benefactor here in three days. Or as soon as possible, but not more than three days. I would hate to march in unexpected.

While you are still many yards away, hesitating over what to do next, the front door opens. Bright light spills out.

Tiadora stands in the doorway. She is no longer dressed for a funeral, but rather wears a diaphanous white gown that makes her look almost angelic. "Come in," she says. "We have been waiting for you."

"Dearest, you took long enough," she says to Sir Edmin. "We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought your little friends? Very good."

"Now, attend." Tiadora turns away without looking to see if you will follow. "The Master has commanded that all of you shall appear before him. He will receive you in his study in one hour. Before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!" She claps her hands. A dozen young, attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed. "These people are our guests," she commands imperiously. "See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly."

There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties. Each of you is directed to a room, where you can refresh yourselves and prepare for what comes next.

END OF PART ONE

Smiling at the woman, the rather soaked Judge smiles: It is an honor to meet you at last m'lady.

Edmin glances at the others before heading towards the open door. The thought of her kiss creeping into his mind like serpent intent on harm. "That is her. Let us see what our benefactors want with us, but be careful with that one, something about her is just not right."

I did not state in IC, but would have resummoned Morsum to carry Bref.

The Judge follows the servants, er, slaves. He has been to enough formal gatherings that he has some knowledge of the protocols. However, the use of slaves clearly shows that this particular mansion does not follow the standards of the King to say the least.

Morsum follows behind Tohram like a shadow.

Edmin gives the woman a smile that does not meet his eyes as follows the servants, his axe still at hand.

"We need aid, my dear. Some of us have sustained substantial wounds during our travel to you wondrous mansion. It seems our last host did not want to part with our company."

The Judge looks over at Edmin and simply shakes his head:

"Ah, yes. So fragile." Tiadora turns to one of the servants. "Go and tell the dwarf we need the special wine now. Ignore his grumbling." She turns back to you. "Proceed to your assigned chambers. Your needs will be attended to."

Each of you is led to a separate room. Each room is comfortable, with a large bed and high windows and a fireplace. There is already a roaring fire in the fireplace, spreading a cheery glow through the room. Fresh, clean clothes are already laid out for you on the bed.

Servants are bringing steaming buckets of hot water and pouring them into a large bathtub. Meanwhile, other servants are setting a small table and bringing in covered platters. The smell of hot food suddenly makes you realize that you have not eaten in many hours -- and that you have not had anything but hard bread and water for many days before that.

A servant comes in with a crystal carafe full of red wine. Moving very slowly and carefully, she pours a single glass and offers it to you. The wine has a heady taste, like nothing you have ever encountered before.

You recover d8+5 hp of damage. If that doesn't bring you to full, you may have a second glass, but not a third. There is enough wine in the carafe for eight glasses. (Bref has a chamber of his own -- it's half-sized, with a low ceiling, perhaps designed for gnomes or halflings. If one of you wants to pour a glass of wine into him, and explain what's going on, you may do so. Otherwise, the servants will do it.)

Outside, the rain is pouring down harder than ever. As you sit down to eat, there is a flash of lightning, followed by a low rumble of thunder.

Tohram Healing: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Morsum carries Bref to his room and pours him a glass of wine.

Bref Healing: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
We in mansion. I carry you from prison.

Edmin rips off his soiled guards tunic, throwing it into the fire with a curse. The knight then strips down, leaving his clothes on the floor, and eases himself into the tub of hot water.

He glances at the servants as they make the preparations, then points at the mud and blood covered chain shirt on the floor."Make sure my armor is cleaned well, and bring a plate of food to me."

He takes the offered glass in his left hand then reaches out, taking the headsman's axe and laying it across the tub before leaning back, allowing his muscles to relax as he drinks the wine and his wounds begin to close.

1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Bref immediately drinks another glass of wine and is very confused. 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

END OF PART ONE

Woohoo! Great job DM! And thanks to all my fellow players, that was great!

Cуровую will look for the most attractive male and youngest attractive female slave and motion them to attend her.

There is much to learn about their new 'hosts', she will be using her skills in trying to find out as much as she can from the slaves while she get's herself prepared.

She will also enjoy the company of the lovely duo in the meantime, it was after all, quite an unpleasant past few days, it would be a 'waste' not to make use of the luxuries.

She will have the young female help bathe her all the while asking questions, not all directly about their masters, only about one in four will be of importance, and she will seem only half interested but listen to all they have to say. She will actively use her charm and physical beauty on the male, and ask questions as well. She will have him massage her back and torso, arching her frame so that he is distracted and so he will not even be aware that her questions are more probing than the norm, she will purr and make pleasant sounds so that he is not even aware that he is talking, but still questioning him quite thoroughly as well.

The Game begins anew. With new players.

---

Wine 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Will store a glass full of the wine in her room, in case of need later.

Jax sighs in relief and looks up. Civilization, at last. He'll wave to the others and eagerly head up to a chamber for a bath, wine 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 and food.

Servants, make sure this guard uniform is properly cleaned. Who knows when such a thing may come in use in the future? He'll inspect the rooms, looking at any decorations and looking for clothing as well after he has been bathed.

I've spent too long in rags eating bread and water. This host of ours has my eternal thanks. It looks like I've sold my soul to a devil but..ah well at least they have good wine.

The Judge summons two young ladies to attend to him as he heads to this room. He does not spend much time asking questions of the pair as he expects in an establishment such as this, the slaves will have little useful information. And those that have gained useful information will certainly already be out in the garden pushing up flowers.

He strips off his armor and guard uniform and requests that the armor be shined and polished, and that the uniform be burned. He then slips into the hot bath and feels the warmth soak into his aged frame. While Morsum takes the small goblin to his room, the Judge reaches out to his servant and finds that not only may he communicate with the shadowy creature, but now he can also see what the thing can see and smell what the thing can smell. Oh, spying and deception has never smelled so sweet.

While relaxing in the water under the ministrations of the ladies, he also asks for a glass of blood if one can be had in this fine home. If/when the glass is brought, he slowly sips it like a connoisseur of fine wine.

The slaves seem utterly unsurprised at the Judge's request. One of them goes away and then comes back a few moments later with an empty wineglass, a small sharp knife, a flat stick and a bandage. The young woman cuts her arm while her colleague holds the glass and strokes the stick along her flesh. Blood pours down. When the glass is nearly full, they stop. While the young woman is bandaging her arm, the other slave turns to you. "Fresh, sir."

The male slave is quite obviously distracted by Zimu.

If you have questions, go ahead and ask them.

Each room contains a large wardrobe with several changes of clothing and additional space for weapons and armor. So, if Sir Edmin ever gets tired of carrying the axe around, there's a space to hang it up.

Occurs when you leave your rooms at the appointed hour...

When you leave your comfortable rooms and move to the master's study for the meeting you see a fairly non-descript young man waiting at the entrance. He is wearing simple robes, has untidy brown hair, and appears to be in simple contemplation with his head down.
When he hears your obvious approach his head comes up and he looks at you appraisingly. The only feature that really strikes you is his eyes. They seem a little odd...or maybe "off". They are extremely dilated, almost giving him the look of a Pesh user, if any of you have ever seen one. He looks over his shoulder, as if he just heard something then approaches you.

I have been requested by Mistress Tiadora to join the meeting. She says I should attend the discussion and may have something to add to your group. I am Dren.

Somewhere in the vast house, a single bell chimes. It is time for you to meet the Master.

Immediately after drinking his wine Bref collapses asleep. He sleeps for awhile then wakes up and immediately begins to chew on the post of his bed. He then spends the rest of his morning bouncing up and down on his bed.

When the bell chimes, he continues to bounce for a bit then goes to the wardrobe and grabs his , now clean, Chef's hat.

Why try to ruin hat? he mutters.

He plops it on the floor and jumps up and down on it a bit, then pulls it on and bounces down the hall.

Beastie? Shadow beastie! Goblin learn better way to chew!!!!!

Additionally he screaches to a halt at the first servant he sees.

Longshanks! Bring Toothpicker meat! Lots of meat!

Then he races off again.

Edmin wakes with a start, throwing himself out of the tub as he grabs his axe. The knight jumps to his feet, weapon at the ready, as he looks around the room in a moment of confusion. Trying to find an enemy that is not there.

"Fargin nightmares."

Al'Roth switches the axe to his left hand as he moves to the table of food and downs a glass of wine. The knight moves to the bed and dries himself before putting on the clothes left by his benefactor. Somewhere a bell rings, and Edmin makes his way out of his chambers. Prepared to move on to whatever is next.

I have been requested by Mistress Tiadora to join the meeting. She says I should attend the discussion and may have something to add to your group. I am Dren.

The knight looks over the young man, taking notice of his eyes and frowns slightly. He then holds out his right hand as he speaks. "I am Sir Edmin Al'Roth."

The door swings open. The Master awaits.

The "study" is a beautifully appointed office richly decorated with dark wood and sumptuous brocade tapestry. A fire burns in the fireplace. Sitting in a leather high-backed chair is a devilishly handsome fellow who smiles as you enter.

"I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside," he adds with a wicked smile.

"But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I’ve helped you. Rest assured this was no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde."

The Cardinal is a tall man -- as tall as Sir Edmin, if a bit less broad-shouldered. He wears black robes of some heavy, velvet-like fabric, trimmed with red silk and gold thread. Rings adorn his fingers. A massive gold holy symbol of Asmodeus, encrusted with precious stones, hangs on a golden chain around his neck.

He is as bald as an egg, but sports a neatly trimmed, pointed beard. It is impossible to guess his age; his movements suggest grace and sinewy strength, and there is no grey in his beard, but somehow there is an impression of age and power. His deep-set dark eyes are smiling, but there is an unmistakable hint of fanaticism in them.

"Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god.

"For their blasphemy -- their foolish, foolish blasphemy -- I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. Oh, I understand what you went through, my young friends. I have faced it myself." With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic ‘F’ brand.

"You were accused, condemned and branded by your lessers -- weaklings and fools who refused to acknowledge their natural superiors. The pain of such humiliation burns deeper than any brand, I know. I know. But now this shameful error shall be corrected."

Bref perches on the back of a chair, chewing on a bone of whatever meat was brought to him this morning, as he listens.

You say we first to escape. How you escape?

He pauses then remembers.

Toothpicker eat Blackerly's eyes tee hee tee hee hee her. Now he sees Goblin serious

Tohram smiles seeing the slave slice herself to provide a warm glass of sanguine elixer. He then continues to enjoy the relaxing bath until he hears the bell ring.

After enjoying the refreshing bath, the Judge stands up and allows the slaves to dry him off and bring his freshly polished armor and laundered clothes. Once he is dressed in his pressed clothing and a long black robe, he leaves the room where Morsum, who was keeping watch outside of the door, immediately falls in behind him like the Judge's shadow.
__________

Once he arrives downstairs and is greeted by the youth,Tohram nods his head in the youth's direction before proceeding into the Cardinal's office.

After the introduction, Tohram responds simply: May the Lord of Contracts damn this nation for all eternity.

Upon seeing Morsum Bref leaps off the back of the chair

Acro1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31

He turns a quadruple flip as he runs to him.

Beastie! Chew! He hands Morsum a bone like his.

Dren wrote:

I have been requested by Mistress Tiadora to join the meeting. She says I should attend the discussion and may have something to add to your group. I am Dren.

The knight looks over the young man, taking notice of his eyes and frowns slightly. He then holds out his right hand as he speaks. "I am Sir Edmin Al'Roth."

He looks down at the hand in a curious manner, but takes it quickly. He responds says in a clear and practiced tone, Hello Sir Edmin. Are you... the door swings open and he stops mid-sentence. He waits and follows the others in, letting them take first choice at the seating and the room positioning.

Upon seeing Morsum Bref leaps off the back of the chair

Acro1d20+11

He turns a quadruple flip as he runs to him.

Beastie! Chew! He hands Morsum a bone like his.

He sees the antics of the Goblin and something draws a slight smile to his face as he listens to the Cardinal give his speech.

Morsum accepts the bone from Bref, but does not immediately chew it, instead Morsum follows behind his master, step for step, and remains behind him as the Cardinal begins to speak.

Morsum HP: 1d10 ⇒ 7