GM SpiderBeard's Carrion Crown (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

The group spreads out and begins combing through the ruins. After a short while, Whiskeyjack notices a 3-foot-wide hole in the ground which opens into a deep shaft that leads into the darkness. Kawrock and Eldon both come across a charred metal strongbox. The lock is fused and partially melted; it may require force to open.

Whiskeyjack peered down into the darkness, letting his dwarven eyes sort out the details. "Mebbe this be th' cellar entrance? Ain't seen anythin' else tha' looks like i'"

perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

Arval walks after the others and glances around a bit.
"Not much left is there... Do you see anything special here? There must be an entrance of sorts."
Upon the others pointing out the strongbox and entrance he moves to the strongbox. He gets out his shovel and starts trying to open the box.

Several checks for prying, smashing, hacking, etc
Str roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Str roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Str roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Str roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Str roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Str roll: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

smack SMACK CRUNCH bonk WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK

Arval finally breaks open the lockbox. Within are several charred papers.

Whiskeyjack peers down into the cellar. Since the shaft is straight down, he is afforded a very narrow field of view, and only sees floor. However, he does hear a weird growling hiss from within.

Wren waits to see what the papers are/say.

"Give me enough time, I might be able to fix that charring...that is, if those papers are important. Now let me see..." Wren tries to read the papers.

"There be somethin' down here, all righ'. Hissin' an' spittin'. Migh' be a ca', or migh' be a huge snake. No way t' tell unless we go down. "

Whiskeyjack pulled the rope from his pack and looked around for something to tie it to. "I be goin' first, an' if'n i' attacks, I ken be holdin' i' off wit' me shield an' hammer until ye ge' down."

Assuming no one else has a better idea, that's just what Whiskeyjack will do. He'll drop the last 10' or so to get his feet under him, then stand firm with his shield in total defense until the others arrive.

Wren backs up about 40' to read, mindful of 'jacks warning.

"Do we need to go down at all? Lemme see if these notes are even related to all this..."

The papers need to be handled delicately and are in a bad state and may require some work to piece back together.

Linguistics check required to read the papers if anyone has it.

Whiskeyjack finds an outcropping of stone that should hold plenty of weight. He loops the rope around it.

Wren delicately holds the papers, thinking about how best to preserve them so that the might be read.

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24 Linguistics

Wren licks her fine elven lips, which is probably something Kawrock wishes he could do (lick his own lips, not Wren's, that is if he has any).

They appear to be orders for various sorts of chemicals, most of the details being lost to the fire. However, Wren can make out a name she's heard before, mentioned repeatedly throughout the document:

Vorkstag and Grine's Chymic Works

Eldon casts dancing light and sends the four lanterns that appear into the hole. "Now we can all see."

He follows Whiskey down the rope. Once Eldon's at the bottom he takes his buckler and draws his rapier.

Arval looks really disappointed when the strongbox gives.
"Expected something of value..."
He turns around to let Wren do her thing and follows the others down. As fast as he can he will stand next to Whiskey also in full defense with his sword and shield drawn.

Lena casts mage armour, expecting trouble. She draws her dagger, and casts light on it. She holds it up so the others can see.
It looks like this could be the fake beast again.
Then she follows the others down

Whiskeyjack starts climbing donw the rope followed shortly by Eldon. As he climbs down the strange hissing noise gets louder, and starts to come from several directions and with it a powerful stench. Knowing the danger, he lets go within a safe distance and falls with a crash, landing on his sturdy feet with his shield up. It is then that a powerful, unbelievable stench hits him so strongly it is nearly incapacitating. Accompanying that stench, four of what appear to be ghouls leap from the shadow, their tongues lolling out of their mouths!

Everybody but Kawrock is up! And everyone but Whiskeyjack is at the top of the shaft. You can reach the bottom of the shaft in one round if you climb halfway and then let go. DC 5 climb check.

k. religion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

fort, stench: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

"GHASTS! Ware their touch, an' their foul odor!"

Whiskeyjack pulled a small vial of holy water from a pouch and a small pinch of diamond dust. Spraying both into the air in the general symbol of Angradd. Wincing as a bright light flared out from his into the darkness, Whiskeyjack smiled a bit as he consecrated the area to Angradd.

Casting Consecrate

Round 1

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14 Know (Religion)

What are those?

"Ghasts!"

Oh yeah.

Wren nearly steps back from the hole, unwilling to be anywhere near things like ghasts.

"Oh, dearie, those are horrible things, just horrible," Wren frets for Jack. She draws her wand of acid arrow as she 5' steps around the rim for a shot at ghast.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14 touch to hit;
2d4 ⇒ (3, 3) = 6 acid damage and 2d4 ⇒ (1, 2) = 3 acid damage next round.

Climb check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Arval makes his way down the shaft and drops, a little clumsily, down the hole next to Whiskey.
"What did you say? Ghasts? The hell are those?"

Whiskeyjack sprinkles holy water over the area as the ghasts close in, and as his prayer finishes a burst of holy energy suffuses the area. The ghasts all shriek, shielding their eyes. Wren fires off an acid arrow at a ghast, which just manages to hit it, sizzling its flesh.

Arval leaps down into the hole, drawing his sword.

Lena and Eldon are up!

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

"Ah, yes, ghasts. I remember those. Yes, I do."

Eldon clears his throat and stays exactly where he is. He quickly starts talking about something entirely different, to hide the fact he doesn't know what ghasts are. "They remind me of a brief visit of mine to the Mwangi Expanse. A most dangerous place, I can assure you. Let me tell you about my vacation there..."

Inspire Courage, +2 bonuses

know religion: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

What's a Ghast?

Looking over the rim, lena looses a magic missile, picking a random beastie.

magic missile: 3d4 + 3 ⇒ (4, 3, 2) + 3 = 12

"Nasty undead beasties wit' a paralyzin' touch!"

I've identified each unique ghast, I'll say Lena and Wren attacked square.

Lena's magic missile slams into a ghast, almost taking it out of the fight completely. THe slavering undead then leap upon Whiskeyjack and Arval.

The ghasts snarl against the holy radiance infusing the area. Nonetheless they attack. Arval and Whiskeyjack battle back valiantly, and Arval manages to avoid taking a single hit while Whiskeyjack suffers a claw wound.

Wren's sizzling acid arrow consumes one of the ghasts, which keels over.

Whiskeyjack takes 8 damage. Whiskey must make a DC 15 fort save or be paralyzed. Arval must make a DC 15 fort save or be sickened.

Everyone is up!

fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

channel: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 3) = 6 Will DC 18 to resist

Whiskeyjack took the blow stoically, shrugging off the ghasts' attacks with little more than a grunt. He raised his shield and channeled some more of Angradd's power through it, sending a pulse of holy power into the cellar room. The pulse washed over the ghasts, igniting their undead forms with the positive energy that is anathema to undead creatures.

Will: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Will: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Will: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

The ghasts shriek as the explosion of holy power bathes them, although they prove exceptionally resilient against such attacks, despite the consecrate spell.

By Angradd's hairy jewel sack, lookit th' rolls!

"Not sure what a ghast is, but Avral and Whiskeyjack are in trouble." Kawrock says before casting a spell. The Tengu works quickly and upon finishing his spell a ball of fire appears next to one of the ghasts Circle.

Flaming Sphere DC 15 reflex negates: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 4, 5) = 12

Round 2

Wren tries again with her wand of acid arrow.

1d20 + 5 - 4 ⇒ (18) + 5 - 4 = 19 touch to hit; (-combat)
2d4 ⇒ (2, 2) = 4 acid this round and 2d4 ⇒ (2, 1) = 3 acid next round.

"Oh dearie! Try to be careful!"

"...Thus, while lying on the beach on my new beach towels from the jungle shop, I decided it was time for ice cream. Luckily I'd just found a stash of vanilla ice cream in the temple where I discovered a multitude of golden monkey idols as well. If you find this weird, I assure you it isn't. Vanilla comes from the Mwangi Expanse, you see. It's something traders have to import, because it cannot be cultivated in this part of the world. Well, that is, it cannot be cultivated in this part of the world without using a special kind of magic I developed when I..."

While talking about his summer vacation in the Mwangi Expanse, Eldon takes his crossbow and shoots a bolt at the ghast that looks like it has the gravest wounds.

Bolt: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23 Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Lena shakes her head at the constant babble from Eldon Odd, i'm starting to find it soothing. I wonder if my ears have formed scares. Metaphorically of course
A sudden grin lights her face as she contemplates that thought, as she moves around the pit, casting another magic missile spell.

striking triangle

magic missile: 3d4 + 4 ⇒ (1, 4, 2) + 4 = 11

three bolts of force slam into the ghast

Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Arval itches at his nose and sneezes.
"Smells horrid down here!"
He tries to attack the southern ghast and takes a step back.

Atk roll: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21
Dmg roll: 1d11 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Lena and Wren both send their spells straight down into one of the ghasts, which shrieks in pain as it is attacked. Eldon's bolt is fouled by the attempt to fire into melee and just skips off the side of the chute.

Arval, seeing his target hit by two spells, takes advantage of its distraction and slams his sword through the ghast's face, kicking the limp corpse off of him.

Whiskeyjack is up!

I'll take a free action if you want to give it to me, but channeling was my Round 2 action

The flaming sphere bounces against a ghast which dodges most of it, but is still badly burned.

Reflex: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

The ghasts surge in, attacking once more.

Vs Whiskey:
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (15) + 7 - 1 = 21 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 1 = 6
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 - 1 = 7 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 5 - 1 = 5
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (7) + 7 - 1 = 13 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 1 = 6

vs Arval:
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (10) + 7 - 1 = 16 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (5) + 5 - 1 = 9
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 7 - 1 = 7 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (4) + 5 - 1 = 8
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (20) + 7 - 1 = 26 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 5 - 1 = 5
Crit: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (16) + 7 - 1 = 22 Damage: 1d6 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (4) + 5 - 1 = 8

Arval feels sharp pain as a ghast leaps on him, biting at an unprotected part of his leg while Whiskeyjck manages to fight back the attacking ghast.

Arval takes 5 damage and needs another DC 15 fort save. Everyone is up!

A successful save against flaming sphere causes no damage.

Kawrock maintains the position of the flaming sphere and lets a bolt of fire fly at the same ghast.

Firebolt, ranged touch: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Flaming sphere, DC 15 reflex negates: 3d6 ⇒ (4, 6, 1) = 11

Round 3

Wren tries again with her wand of acid arrow.

1d20 + 5 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 5 - 4 = 7 touch to hit; (-combat)
2d4 ⇒ (2, 2) = 4 acid this round and 2d4 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7 acid next round.

Whiskeyjack glanced over at Arval and saw the boy take a nasty hit. He waited to see if the human would shake off the ghast's unnatural touch, or if he would need assistance.

Fort save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Arval grunts as the ghast latches onto his leg.
"Bloody..."
He tries to stab the ghast as it is still on his leg.

Atk roll: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24
Dmg roll: 1d10 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

magic missile on the ghast on arval: 3d4 + 4 ⇒ (2, 2, 2) + 4 = 10

nasty beasties. Eldon, have you ever smelt anything worse?

Arval, don't forget the extra 1d4 fire damage from your FLAMING SWORD! (we don't judge here. your sword can be itself among friends)

Oh! Totally missed that!

Additional super awesome fire damage from Arval's fiery sword: 1d4 ⇒ 1

-Posted with Wayfinder

"As a matter of fact, I have," Eldon replies to Lena. "My grandfather had these very nasty shoes that he refused to throw away. My grandmother eventually threw them away, and the next day I found a dead badger next to the thrash bin. It had one of grandpa's old shoes in its mouth."

While talking, Eldon fires another bolt at the ghast with the most wounds.

Bolt, IC: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 8 + 2 = 19 Damage, IC: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Inspire Courage +2 continues to be up.

The group viciously attack the remaining ghasts, one going down under a flurry of spells while the other takes a bolt in the stomach before Arval sweeps off its head.

End of Combat

The cellar of the hospital appears to have escaped the worst of the fire unscathed although it has largely been destroyed by the ghasts. A pair of large water casks sit beneath the entrance shaft to climb upon. The cellar is some 15 feet high and it is a mess, everything has been destroyed or trashed into disarray. A ghastly trophy made of burned heads dangles on changes from an iron candelabrum, which hangs from the ceiling near the shaft.

Kawrock climbs down and takes a quick glance around. "Looks like those ghasts did a number on this place." he says before clicking his tongue twice in dismay. "Well lets see if they left anything useful."

Perception 20: 20 + 13 = 33

With the ghasts dead, Wren finally deigns to descend below to do her own exploration.

She casts Detect Magic and squawks up a storm as she slowly inspects the cellar.

"This reminds me of my time as nurse in the War of Two Rutab-...blahblahblah...candy striping nymphs...blahblahblah...applying an entirely new form of 'healing'...blahblahblah...more unclothed than before...blahblahblah...better served...blahblahblah...polyjuice enemas. So that's when I was done, I was."

Lena climbs down, casts detect magic as well, with less chatter

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

sigh

While Lean finds herself upside-down, headfirst in a bucket while trying to search the room Kawrock does a slow, thorough job of combing the area.

The group finds the following:

- 12 silver bolts
- a gold belt buckle (slightly melted)
- an orante iron bracelet with a silver filigree depicting a moon eating an owl
- One unbroken vial that says "Vorkstag and Grine, Chymickal Bleach"

Kawrock takes a moment to inspect the burned heads hanging from the candelabrum. Although all featherless humanoids kind of look the same (how they know which bathroom to use?) he does notice that most of the heads seem deformed in some way, except for one.

Is there any magic in the area?

Wren coos and chirps over the shiny things.

Wren finds a few shiny things - mostly broken glass, but there is nothing here that registers as magical.

"Mebbe one o' these heads ken be tellin' us more abou' wha' happened 'ere. Gettin' t' be a reg'lar thing, us talkin' t' dead people."

Wren waits, deciding what to do next.

"Not sure where to go next," Wren coos and falls temporarily silent.