GM Aria & the Mystery Machine Investigate The Haunting of Harrowstone (Inactive)

Game Master Hu5tru

Archaic and crumbling, the Immortal Principality of Ustalav affords the casual observer the last countenance of civilization south of the Worldwound. With a history steeped in human misery, and its terrain inhospitable to even its natives, Ustalav is of very little political consequence to any save its own elite. Ustalav’s government is fractured along the lines of longstanding principalities, now termed counties passing from generation to generation of its noble houses, who jockey for power and grasp at fantasies of regaining their former glory.

The people of Ustalav fair no better. Subjugated by the undead armies of the Whispering Tyrant, many have grown to accept the oppressive rule of the nobility if for no other reason than tradition. They are insular, and highly suspicious of magic, religion, foreigners, and also of themselves. Their lives are tragedies that conclude with catastrophe, with little hope of progress. In recent years, however, there have been several successful peasant uprisings, particularly in the northeast, whereby the common man has gained a modicum of control of his own future.

Within this country, with its varied terrain and political upheaval lies the county of Canterwall, and the hamlet of Ravengro. For fifteen years this sleepy community has been the residence for Petros Lorrimor, a prominent and well traveled peer of the arcane arts, and now it will serve as his final resting place. The majority of its homes, belonging to a solitary and functionally destitute population, are modest and bereft of any distinguishing feature. At this late date in Rova, heavy rainfall confines them to their homes. Even the livestock kept close without have little to speak about on this day, with a marked preference to keep to any eaves or shelter they might from the downpour.

Regardless of the distance you have traveled, each of you have gathered at the entrance to the Restlands, Ravengro’s cemetery. This woman stands beside a simple pine coffin, wearing a simple but finely cut dress of gray wool that is bereft of any adornment and a sensible cap that conceals the majority of her hair. She is attended by this man and a young boy whose awkward stance and pockmarked face give lend to the impression that he is currently wallowing in adolescence. The boy holds a large umbrella over the woman while his white shirt, which appears to fit too snuggly about the neck and be too short for his growing arms, displays spatters of mud water cast from the sizable puddle to his left. At no considerable distance this man appears to lay in wait, his eyes seeming to stray towards the young woman on occasion before righting themselves and looking to his companion, with whom he seems to share some intimacy. He nods, and his eyes glance in your direction before he answers in a muted tone, and falls silent once again. Standing a good deal apart from any group of mourners is this woman who frequently looks towards the casket and the young woman beside it, but does not appear to dare to approach.

The young woman besides the coffin looks up at your approach. She dabs at her raw eyes with a handkerchief, but her face and person are otherwise comported. Her eyes are unfocused but a moment, then study each of you in turn, quick and discriminating. ”Ah, you must be my father’s associates,” she says, swallows, and offers you a polite salute with an inclination of her head. ”It is good of you to come. I had thought…” she arrests herself and drags her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes seem to wander over the small crowd gathered. ”I was beginning to worry that the weather might have delayed you.”

As he made his way to the coffin, Sandman was surprised at the few people gathered for the ceremony. Surely there should be more people present. I am not early am I? He dared not say anything about the turn out in front of the attendants. Noticing the rain, Sandman silently hopes that the weather doesn't worsen. He'd hate it if his face paint ran off.

Davor Sandman is a Half orc wearing a silk white robe with yellowish Grey skin. he has a bald head topped with a silk cap and has deep blue eyes. He is a bit lanky and skinny compared to the average halforc. The most notable thing about Davor is that he has a purple, silver and gold butterfly wing painted onto the right side of his face, from forehead to cheek.

The young woman besides the coffin looks up at your approach. She dabs at her raw eyes with a handkerchief, but her face and person are otherwise comported. Her eyes are unfocused but a moment, then study each of you in turn, quick and discriminating. ”Ah, you must be my father’s associates,” she says, swallows, and offers you a polite salute with an inclination of her head. ”It is good of you to come. I had thought…” she arrests herself and drags her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes seem to wander over the small crowd gathered. ”I was beginning to worry that the weather might have delayed you.”

Sense Motive 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Sandman speaks in a sleepy, airy voice. "Ah Yes, the weather is most depressing. I apologize for cutting it so close. I am Davor Sandman, Cleric of Desna, The Great Dreamer. But please, you may call me Sandman. I met your father while journeying through the area and got him out of a bit of trouble. I am sad to see that he is gone. I am sorry for your loss. I will say a prayer for him so that the Tender of Dreams will make his eternal rest a peaceful one."

Davor finds a good spot to say his respects for the Professor and then steps back so others may have their chance.

Arkadi was secretly glad that the day was overcast. Sunny skies seemed inappropriate for such an occasion, and it was easier to pay his proper respects when he could actually watch the proceedings. He gave a short nod of acknowledgement to the other mourners and a more respectful nod with a tug at his hat to the Professor's daughter.

"My respects to you on your loss, Miss. The Professor was a good man." His voice was deep and dark, compared to his pale thin body. "If you don't mind I'll say a few words of my own for him. He was more open minded than most, and that helped me some when things were rough."

"Your kindness, it touches me," Kendra says, relief evident on her face. She turns and looks to all of you. "By all means, share your experiences with my father. A shared vision of him will carry us through this trying time."

Levelle falls into line with a small cohort of mourners approaching the Ravengro graveyard. She had found the last few days both intriguing and unnerving as she had moved from ship to ship as she navigated the various waterways between Kyonin and Ustalav. Ravengro has been a surprise with its insular people and its grey decor. It was a far cry different than her life in Greengold.

To be expected perhaps, humans at home maybe being different than those brave enough to come to our elven city.

All the same Levelle found the town curious, the people closed, and her first real "away from home" experience had started in a very sad place.

Levelle watched the half-orc with the beautiful face talk to the woman waiting to the side. Levelle perked up a bit, realizing that the woman was the Professor's daughter then became anxious as she realized that perhaps she was dressed wrong for the event.

As the tall warrior looking man in front of her passed some soft spoken apology to the woman Levelle set to fretting over her clothes. Was the coat too long or elaborate? The silver trim on blue cloth too "bright"? Were her pants well fitting? Her boots of proper shine? Should she look more sad? Should she leave her staff off to the side? Was Kiire's coat not clean enough? Was it rude that she followed at Levelle's feet? Approaching a point of absolute panic Levelle found herself face to face with the Professor's daughter, did she hear Kendra as the name?

The coat is of a style worn commonly near the Shackles it is larger than other styles but suits my look well I think. I can't abide the three pointed hat though and so will stick to elven headwear I think.

Levelle tilts her head and looks off for a moment, the expression on her face indicating that something has "clicked" in her head. Levelle bows graciously to Kendra.

Levelle Dawnrise Isillis Mahe, former servant of Greengold daughter of Traien and Erisel. I was an associate of your father and occasionally guided him through my home city. Levelle went over the words in her head a couple more times to be sure they were right, a book on human mourning ritual indicated to her that is was polite and correct. I am regretful for your loss.

Uriah slouches inside his long coat, the buttons done up until the collar was covering his face and his floppy hat drawn down until only his eyes were visible.

Hate the rain. Bad for Raquel.

"Knew your father, he was a good man."

Hopefully won't need to rescue her from any back alley. Wish I'da been here for him. Letter didn't say what he died of.

Kendra's eyes focus on you Levelle, and she gives a bow. "I know of Greengold. Your journey from Kyonin must have been quite the adventure." Kendra's eyes flick passed you towards the crowd, and she speaks in a softer voice. "Have you... Have you secured a place to stay?" she inquires, then shakes her head and dismisses the thought with a gesture of her hand.

Kenda fairly blinks at your introduction, Uriah. "Thank you, Sir. I am glad that you could join us today."

Arkadi spoke slowly, picking his words with care. "I had a close encounter with the undead at a very young age. It had lasting effects on me." Every word technically true, in an exactly literal sense. "A lot of people treat it like a contagious condition, or think anyone associating with me invites divine retribution. The Professor wasn't like that. And he didn't treat me like a test subject either. He helped me study exactly what the effects were and how to manage them. I still feel like I owe him a debt for that."

Sandman yawns as he silently watches the others. He takes the time to study everyone, and to get an idea of who they are. He wouldn't want to offend anyone.

Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Sense Motive 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
Knowledge (Religion) 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Knowledge (Local) 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17 (untrained)

Davor's post brings up an excellent point and Levell, I know you have addressed it, but if you could post IC or even OOC within your introductory posts what you look like, and if you display any obvious holy symbols, it may save some confusion.

A tall, whip-thin Varisian stands near the crowd, slightly apart, next to a man so similar he must be his brother. They wear the same odd symbol, which doesn't corespond to any religion, though the taller one wears the cup of Cayden Cailean at his belt. The man touches his brother on the shoulder, then jerks his head toward Kendra, showing his meaning by stepping up to her next to the coffin. Shaking his long hair out of his eyes as she greets him, he smiles with shockingly white teeth. "Nah, the weather wasn't much of an issue to me, though me brother whined the whole journey." He jokingly bumps the other man's shoulder. "You could say associate. I more say he taught me something that saved my life. 'Avoid those who seem to use magic.' Course he taught me it by turning me into a hare. It's nice to meet you Kendra, my name is Andrezi Denikov, and this is my brother. We worked with your father for a while. He was a great man, and this country is darker without him." He bows his head, obviously saddened.

Silvui frowns with his usual look around the cemetary. His glance favors the coffin of his dead once employer and slight father figure.

He wears a rapier at his waist and a series of blades held together around his waist and chest dance in torchlight as he follows his brother closely throughtout the crowd, it is obvious that he appears apprehensive and nervous about this location. funerals have never been my thing, such a waste of time.

he lets out a look of sorrow at the coffin regretful for his thoughts.

He was a good man, lets be kind to his memory.

At the bump from his brother Silvui nods to the proffesors daughter as if this is enough to convey his condolences.
Was simply looking for conversation that didnt involve your usual drizzle. the young man seems quiet pleased with his comment, and takes to looking at the other patrons of this somber event, his trained bandits eye unable to restrain itself.

appraise 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
knowledge nobility 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Andrezi lightly bumps his brother with his elbow. "Stop that." He whispers into his ear. "Now's not the time. Though did you notice that guys necklace?" Andrezi points with his eyes, then remembers himself. "But we'll not sully the Professor's funeral with such things." He says firmly... as firmly as he gets with his brother.

Silvui nods, letting his eyes fall greedily on the mentioned necklace for a moment before removing them. Silvui knows when to take his brother seriously, Your right of course, wont happen again.

Silvui turns to kendra and forces himself to speak Your father was a great man, Im sure you know that. But it cant hurt to hear it can it? Silvui is very uncertain of his words not wanting to offend but clearly unsure of what to say.

The simple pine coffin is quite long and cumbersome. You estimate that there is ample room for all six of you to assist Kendra in this, her hour of need.

Levelle brightens for a moment when Kendra mentions accommodations but keeps the sensation to herself as the woman's words fade.

OH Hospitality! But is this one of those things that humans say but don't mean? She is quite sad, maybe she is lonely?

Levelle takes a position around the proceeding and stays quiet and still, unsure what role she is to play. Of course she had no accommodations, she had just got to Ravengro this very morning and had been too caught up in getting where she needed to to consider such things.

You are out of the city you know so well no young one, time to use all that you have learned.

Levelle watches others approach. A man in a jacket and a broad hat, two more men who look quite like each other. (Though many humans tended to look like one another). Levelle found her large dark eyes fell on everyone present more than once. She knew that humans sometimes found elven eyes disconcerting, something about pupils and sense of direction. Levelle hadn't paid very close attention to that lesson, it seemed a trivial thing.

Idly wondering what was to happen next Levelle hears Kendra ask three of the newcomers to carry the coffin. Oh thank Nethys they aren't leaving him here. I had read he should be buried or burned but they way everyone was standing around... Levelle shakes the thought from her head and prepares to follow everyone.

Uriah's hat bobs as the head within nods at Kendra's request.

"I'd be honored to carry your father to his final rest."

The hat and jacket move to the right side of the casket and a rough tanned hand comes out of the left jacket pocket to carry the casket. His right hand is also withdrawn but you see it covered in scars unlike the left hand. The outline of a sword can be seen within the jacket on the right side.

Andrezi nods, taking his place on the side of the casket. My time with you was short Professor. But some of the best time of my life. Having honest work, protecting good men. It was all I could have wished for. I'll make sure you're protected once more. The thin man looks almost comical carrying the coffin, but he has the strength to belie his form.

"I would be honored to assist the Professor in his travels... one last time..." Sandman says in his sleepy tone as he grabs his share of the coffin.

Silvui moves over to an empty part of the coffin quietly, willing and prepared to bear this man to his final resting place.

Arkaki wears a long coat over what looks to be a cheap shirt of scaled mail with a longsword at his side. His colors are mostly black, though a faded dirty black rather than a dashing jet black, which make the gold and silver burst of Iomedae has been stitched over his heart stand out more. The one higher quality item is his hat, which lies flat with an extra wide brim to shade his eyes in the brightest day.

He quickly moves to take his spot at the coffin. "It'd be an honor."

Kendra's face is elated, and she smiles at each of you. "Pharasma bless you for your kindness," she says, and tucks her kerchief into her glove.

Witnessing the five of you have step up to bear the Professor to his rest and Kendra's response, the young boy who holds the umbrella presses it on the elder man and after a pointed glance at the handsome Kendra, joins you in bearing her father's coffin aloft. A few moments are required to properly balance the cumbersome charge between six persons and twelve pairs of hands, but the effect is not without purpose, you certainly do not wish to drop your charge.

When you have achieved the balance between you, Kendra steps out from beneath the protection of the gentleman's umbrella, and leads you down the path before you. The procession follows at a respectful distance from the pallbearers and the coffin, hushed in respect for the Professor, and them already interred here. The only sounds are the fat drops of rain striking the Professor's coffin and occasionally displacing the gravel walk that crunches beneath your boots.

As you round the corner you see before you is another intersecting path, and at this junction a rather large and motley crowd awaits, blocking the way. Kendra slows, but continues almost defiantly, and you follow, although at a reduced speed. It becomes clear that this group of roughly a dozen citizens has come prepared for mischief, each armed with crude farming tools. A leader steps forward as Kendra nears.

"Stop right there! Ye came far enough!" he calls. "We've" he looks to his compatriots as though for support, "been talking, and we don't want Lorrimor in buried in the among our kin. You can take 'im upriver and bury 'im there if ya want, but he ain't gonna ta ground 'ere!"

Levelle frowns at the sight of the crowd. She had seen intolerance in much of Kyonin; an appeal to a darker sense of justice through exclusion. She knew little on matters of religion or local custom but she suspected that whatever this crowd was doing or wanted was neither custom nor welcome.

Speaking to no one in particular, Levelle keeps her voice low, Should we do something about this or will they part once Kendra gets close enough?

Andrezi's face shows confusion as he sees the men, quickly giving way to anger. "Keep the coffin a moment." He says simply, making sure it is balance and then stepping away. He pulls the brass knuckles from his belt and places them over his own knuckles, then draws his guisarme as he steps to the front of the assembled funereal procession. "I am appointing myself honor guard of the funeral of Professor Lorrimor. Should you seek to impede our progress, you will be dealt with in a most unpleasant fashion. Leave. Before you find yourselves on your asses with my blade at your throat." Andrezi strikes the most impressive combat pose he knows, and readies himself for the men.

Intimidate:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

"I think the farmers 'ill take no joy in that statement. Lower the coffin slowly, no cause to drop the Professor now, and we can aid the lad with the big stick."

Keyed up for violence and now they've an excuse...

Sandman yawns slightly and asks loudly to the group."Why? Why would you not want Lorrimor buried here?"

Levelle tenses as the pallbearers seem keyed up for conflict. Violence is no way to send a man to his next journey.

Placing a hand guardedly on her hip, Levelle lets her fingers rest on her spell component pouch.

The leader, a tall, gaunt and elderly man sneers when Andrezi steps forward, and looks to his men. "Bold lad," he says, and signals for his roughs to move with a gesture. "Seems as like ye can't count. Get 'im, lads! Don't let them plant that necromancer near ye Mums and Das!"

Initiative Table

Uriah Hays 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Andrezi Denikov 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Levell Mahe 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Arkadai Spektor 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Silvui Denihov 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Davor Sandman 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

The Badguys 1d20 ⇒ 11

Okay, I'm trying something new to me to set up this encounter. Apologies if this isn't all that pretty, but I'm new to this

Encounter Map.

Please indicate where you are, and state your action, please. The tan 10x5 object is the Professor's coffin. KL is Kendra Lorrimor

Arkadi shifts his grip so that he can address the mob without lowering his burden. His voice is penetrating but without rancor. "Death is the gateway to the final judgment. Once in Pharasma's arms there are no more chances for repentance, no last opportunities for redemption. Only a complete accounting of the virtues and the vices of the deceased by the final court." His free hand waves at the many graves. "The dead have passed beyond us. Nothing more we do can touch them. This funeral is for the living, so they may be at peace with their loss. Anything you do to disrupt it is a challenge to them and not the dead."

With an indrawn breath he draws himself to his full height and clasps his hand to the symbol of Iomedae on his breast. "I am a sworn warrior of the goddess of honor. By my oath I will judge fairly if judgment is asked for. So if you have a grievance against the living then speak it now. But if all you carry is a lingering grudge against the dead, I suggest you let it be buried with him. Such things tarnish the soul if nursed too long."

Diplomacy check of 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

And crap. Looks like I missed my pre-combat window. Adding first action, then.

As the mob surges forward Arkadi lowers his end of the coffin down and draws his blade. "I would regret staining consecrated ground with your blood. Turn back before I am forced to harm you."

Starting in G16. Drawing his sword and moving to G13, next to Kendra. Readied action to make a nonlethal attack to the first enemy that comes in reach.

Since my intent was to block off the group, I'll go with the space 2 up and 1 right of Kendra, with the bad guys just outta reach.

Levelle was following the coffin but walked so as to see ahead. I would put her at D 17. She will cast -Sleep- targeting the spot centered between L1 and 1, which should be right for the 10' circle which should catch uhm...1, L1, 8, 5 and 2

Seeing that violence is in fact going to occur,Levelle reaches into her pouch, grabs a pinch of sand and blows it towards the mob. [Draconic] Sleep

Wil Save DC 15

Silvui is looking quite annoyed by the group of peasants, and his uncomfotable burden.
Standing bearing coffin at f16.
if we are gona to gut a bunch of farmers, can we kindly put this corpse down?
the thin short man begins lowering the coffin slightly to help persuade the others to follow suit.

Round 1 Init 23

So we've gone from 6 pallbearers to 3, not sure dropping the Prof is a great idea.

Uriah will nod to Silvui and also begin lowering the casket, using both hands since the others have so quickly abandoned their sacred charge.

"I'd recommend you two curb your blood lust and not gut anybody."

Round One

Levelle casts Sleep, but it will not take effect until the beginning of her next turn, which allows the mob and its leader to move!

The combined efforts of the pallbearers working in tandem I assume no one is going to object to your efforts this round lower Professor Lorrimor's casket to the ground with little incident.

The Badguys a.k.a "Redshirts"

Updated Battle Map

Note, Redshirts #10,11,12 and 7 have double moved and are incapable of otherwise acting

Andrezi, as part of your action, you may get an AoO on either Redshirt #5, 1, or 2, but not 4 because I moved him around your threatened squares.

Redshirts Attack!

Redshirt #1 Attacks with crude tool for NL damage 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (7) - 3 = 4
Redshirt #2 Attacks with crude tool for NL damage 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (7) - 3 = 4
Redshirt #4 Attacks with crude tool for NL damage w/flank bonus 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (15) - 1 = 14
Redshirt #5 Attacks with crude tool for NL damage w/flank bonus 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (12) - 3 = 9

Andrezi, though you are surrounded by a mob of angry peasants muttering various curses including conjectures about your birth and your mother's status, their hoes, rakes, spades and even a broom glance off of your armor and you are unscathed.

Andrezi, you are next in the initiative order!

Did 12 move through my threatened area? I'd be focused on keeping them from my friends.

Andrezi steels himself with a smile as the men move forward. "Come on then dogs, let's see how you fight a warrior with style." The varisian catches the man attempting to go by him by the back of his ankle with the hook of his guisarme, not hurting him, but sending him tumbling to the floor easily.

Trip AoO:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

"Come on..." The bigger Denikov says with a twist of his body and a disdainful whip of his blade to knock the enemie's attacks away. "I would have thought you better than this."

Dirty Trick (Entangle):1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Andrezi, seeing an opening, snaps his hand out and grabs one of the men's belts, snaps it off with a flourish, then ties the man's hands together with it before him. "Ah, there we have it. Trussed up like a goose. You fellows still wish to continue? It only gets worse from here."

Number 1 entangled for 3 rounds or move action that provokes to remove.

As one of the peasants passes Andrezi, he reaches out with his weapon and deposits the man on the ground. A mass of flailing arms and legs, and screaming curses in Common the likes of which would shame a priest, the man falls to the ground.

Updated Battle Map. the blue 5, 12 represents disabled "combatants"

Davor, the combined might of 3 PCs plus likely the boy who is also helping you carry the coffin is likely to bring it down safely. If you wish to, you can act on your initiative.

Adjusted Map.

Sandman carefully lets go of the coffin, making sure they got it. He then clasps his hands together and in a strong yet airy voice says;

"O most holy mother, whom doth guide us in our sleep. I implore thee to guide us now, to grant us courage in our awakened state, where courage is most needed. Come to mine assistance in this great need, so that we can protect this poor man's journey and his daughter's life. I promise thee, O blessed Desna, to be ever mindful of this great favour, to always honour thee as my special and powerful patron, and to gratefully encourage devotion to thee... Bless."

Bless
All allies within 50 ft gain a +1 bonus to hit and fear saves for 1 minute

[Assuming that we go to the top of Round 2]

Levelle points towards the back of the mob surrounding Andrezi and releases the spell that has been building within her. NOW, I'll target sleep at G/H 8&9 which should hit 6,8,9,5,1,2 & L1. Obviously I cannot affect all of them but hopefully I'll get a good spread. Wil save DC 15 This resolves the full round cast

Turning her attention to closer prey Levelle points her hand at the villager next to the beautiful half-orc. Please stop this violence or I will be forced to use whatever means necessary. Readied action: If the villager (#10) uses lethal force, Levelle will throw a force missile at him:

Force Missile: Auto Hit: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

WOW I sure hope he doesn't try to do anything violent or that will be quite the hit.

Updated map. The light blue numbers are sleeping.

Uriah, you are now free to act.

Round 2 Init 23

"Ya'll best stop this foolishness."

Drawing his shortsword Uriah attempts to subdue the peasant that is attacking him.

Move to draw shortsword, attack peasant 7 for NL.
1d20 - 3 ⇒ (11) - 3 = 81d6 ⇒ 1

Uriah slashes at the nearest menacing peasant with a farming implement, but the young man with sandy blond hair and vivid violet eyes deftly dodges the clumsy attack.

Silvui, your action, please.

Remember everyone...
Bless
All allies +1 bonus to hit and fear saves for 1 minute

Silvui lets out a grunt as he notices the peasants getting closer to the coffin.
I only intended to bury 1 person today, however get any closer and I'm afraid you will be joining him. he says matter of factly. As he speaks he reaches around his waist and grabs a hilt of sorts that is secured against the small of his back, twisting it and snapping it forward the metalic belt wrapped around his body follows suit, the long blade whip snaps loudly in the air and silvui whirls it around over his head menacingly.

ready action to attack any enemy that approaches the coffin.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
if attack hits
1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Akadi retrieves his shield from his back and thrusts out an open palm to grasp the forehead of the man confronting him. "Let the judgment of Iomedae be upon you!"

Move action, ready shield. Standard action, attempting to cast Brand on #7. Not defensively casting, drawing an AoO vs AC 19. Touch attack of 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15, on a success it does 1 point of damage and painfully brands the word SINNER on his forehead for one day.

Peasant Attack of Opportunity vs. Arkadi 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (18) - 3 = 15

As you reach out to cast your judgment on the sinner, his sickle slashes the air near your arm, but you are unscathed by his assault. His wide arc unbalances him and you are able to grasp his forhead as he teeters forward, branding the word SINNER there. He screams in anguish, and attempts to run away, drawing an AoO from you.

Silvui, you may also take an AoO as the peasant nearest you takes a dangerous step towards the Elven spellslinger, raising his pitchfork as though to attack her.

The Peasants that can act this round

Andrezi, two peasants approach you from behind, and work in tandem to bring you down, but neither seem to be able to penetrate your defenses.

Peasant with a hoe 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (2) - 3 = -1
Peasant with a broom 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (13) - 3 = 10

Uriah, a peasant with a shovel steps in and attacks you but puts too much arm into his swing and loses his balance, staggering backwards slightly.

Peasant with a shovel 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (12) - 3 = 9

Levelle, depending on Silvui's action, the last peasant to remain hostile, wielding a crude rake menaces you, but when he swings, he loses grip on his rake and it goes flying off in another direction.

Peasant with a rake 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (1) - 3 = -2

The peasants who formerly stood with their leader, having watched their companions be disabled by some foul words spoken by the outsiders, decide to cut their losses and flee the scene.

Updated Map

Arkadi, Silvui can make AoOs, but it is now Andrezi's initiative

"Boys... wait your turn. Each of you will have the chance to be humiliated." Andrezi twirls gracefully away from the strikes, then scoops a small bit of dirt from the ground with the tip of his weapon, expertly flicking it towards the man's eyes.

Dirty Trick:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Peasant 3 is Blinded for 2 rounds. Move action to remove.

I rolled AOO above with my last roll, but I can roll it again if ya wants?

Silvui stares darkly at the peasant and whips his blade at the him, clearly attempting to harm the man.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
1d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Round 3 Init 23

"Run away before this madman kills you."

Full Defensive, +4 AC