Motteditor's Ironfang Invasion PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Garrivek shakes the dwarf's hand. "Kveðja, minn vinr!"

"A pleasure! I'm Garrivek! Garrivek of clan Runebuckle! From Kraggodan. Who might you be?"

In addition to speaking with the dwarf, Garrivek speaks with the apparent leaders of the refugees, Aubrin, Jet, and Oreld. After introducing himself he adds, "I'm here to help in this time of trouble."

To Aubrin he says, "I came across a deceased Chernasado Ranger. He had this note on him. Do you know what it means?"

Dregg grins as the group works their way through the sheltered tunnels and Symond pops his head out to see. "Heh heh. Hey there, Pup! Looks like you did a good job keeping all these folks safe, yeah?" He tousles the young boy's hair as he winks at his parents nearby.

Phaistea lets out a long, quavering sigh of apparently relief as Arryn comforts her, and the former barmaid lets herself be cheered up, wiping away the tears.

"I guess, but slavery? What kind of life is that? They're older, how will they survive?"

Symond needs no cheering, and he grins as Dregg returns.

"Yeah, I did it all myself!" he boasts.

To Garrivek, Aubrin sounds troubled: "Aye, I recognize that. It's a code of the Rangers, meaning they should all go to ground. They must know something has happened, but why haven't they come helped. I was only with them for a short time, but we wouldn't have just sat idle back then... "

”It’s just temporary,” Arryn says to Phaistea. ”We’re getting stronger, and we’re starting to win. There’s a long way to go, but our people just need to hold out awhile longer.”

Later, Arryn gathers the others to plan their next move.

”Okay, we need to get people started on crafting our no-man’s land in front of the cave entrance, maybe cutting some smaller trees down to make into spikes for a palisade, with a switchback. Maybe we could also rig a rockfall over the cave entrance as a last resort, so our people could rush inside and trigger it to block the entrance.”

”We can’t sit idle, though, so we need to get them started on whatever we think best, then check on the presence of hobgoblins in the woods. We need to check for patrols, and I’d like to get to the river and mark and sabotage any crossings they’ve built.”

"Troublesome. Any thoughts why they wouldn't come to help?" Garrivek asks Aubrin. "Where's the nearest Chernasado outpost or hidey-hole?"

Garrivek considers Arryn's suggestions, drumming his fingers on his armour. "Aye, Arryn. Getting some spikes set up for a palisade would be a good start. Plenty of wood to work with."

"Your scouting plans are sound. Let's get these folks started at their tasks, then look in the area for signs of the enemy. We can make for the river after."

"One problem with a palisade and a no-man's land: it announces right loud we're here. And the hobs have an army. A palisade ain't exactly a curtain wall. I'm all for setting traps, mind, but I think we need to be sneaky for a while yet. Unless you think we can turn the caves into a proper fortress, that is."

”I suppose there is a chance the hobs would see the evidence of our presence and just think it’s still the lizard creatures, but that won’t fool them for long.
However, if you’d rather sneaky, let’s go sneaky.”

"What sorts of traps would you suggest, Isabella?" Aramis asks. "Snares? Shallow holes with sharp sticks in them? That could hobble the enemy." With a glance at little Seymond, she frowns. "I worry about the kid, if we set traps too dangerous. And some of the other refugees, truth be told." Looking at the others she adds, "Do we think the hinderance they might provide would outweigh the potential danger to the kid, the sheep, and some tired refugee coming out of the cave to empty their bladder in the middle of the night?"

Garrivek nods. "Well put. All of you." He drums his fingers on his armour in thought. Noticing everyone defer to Isabella in regards to traps, he turns to her. "Are you any good with traps? What do you think you could teach the folks here to make?"

Aubrin thinks a moment about Garrivek's questions.

"They maintain three hidden bases in the Southern Fangwood: Fort Nunder, Fort Ristin, and Fort Trevalay," she explains. "I trained briefly at Nunder, though that was a long time ago, and I doubt I could find it again, to be honest. They're all somewhere to the north of us, though."

Lirosa and Taidel meanwhile nod at the suggestion of traps, even if they realize they'd be different than the snares the two hunters are more familiar with.

”I guess an advantage of just building some palisades is that our people aren’t likely to stumble into them. Maybe it isn’t pits we need, but things like a deadfall, or big trunks rigged to swing in on ropes...things that our people could trigger from inside the caves by pulling something free.”

Dregg shrugs at all the back and forth discussion around obvious traps, then sneaky traps, then big booby traps. "Nobody's surviving this mess by being coddled. No point in making a trap if the thing it catches can get out or call for help, if you ask me. Either make 'em as deadly as we can, or make 'em far enough out and noisy enough to give folks a chance to get ready for a fight."

He works his jaw side to side for a few long moments, before adding in a less gruff tone, "Besides, I don't know how long we'll be staying here. Scarvinius was strong, but he wasn't a big fish. Dropping him may take some heat off these folks for now, but I doubt that breathing room will last."

”Well, we should plan to winter here, and speaking of winter, once the snow comes, there will be no hiding that we’re here and that we aren’t lizard people, so maybe palisades are the way to go. If we can’t hide ourselves, make ourselves look as scary as possible.”

"So, where exactly does this cave lead to?" Garrivek asks. "It's quite big. Does it have an escape route? Should this refuge becomes attacked, blocking off the tunnel with a rockfall trap, then fleeing out the back end would be worth our time. It's probably got the best chance of survival for these folks, if it comes down to a fight."

”It connects to the Darklands. Any chance you know those paths and could lead us through them, bypassing the hobgoblins?”

"That's a good point. We should explore the Darklands tunnels, at least a little. An escape route will ensure everyone here has a fighting chance to survive." She nods at Garrivek, curious to see what he knows about the tunnels.

It's spring now, so winter is some ways off, still.

You said that right in the first post, too, but I’ve been going this whole time like we’re a month away from snow. Oops.

”There is the risk we might attract new dangers from below by exploring the Darklands. Our merchant friend was very emphatic in her warnings. Of course, maybe she just wanted to scare us so we weren’t tempted to try and oust her people from their caves, too.”

Garrivek thinks about the Darklands tunnels, trying to remember if he knows them well enough to traverse them... (Rolling a bunch of skill checks alphabetically that might be applicable below).

Knowledge Dungeoneering: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Knowledge Geography: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
Profession Cartographer: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Profession Spelunker: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

"Oh, I've seen my fair share of tunnels. Though, Darklands tunnels are a bit deeper than I typically delve. I'm a fan of the surface, you see? My ancestors completed the Quest for Sky for a reason, after all. It'd be a shame to waste that gift!"

"Merchant, you say? What merchant? What exactly did they warn you of?"

”Some kind of underground gnome. She warned us that it would be suicide to try to transport our refugees through the Darklands.”

"If the Rangers are hiding out, we might want to plan a visit. After we've set things up here, anyways. And yeah, we'll need traps we can set off deliberately, so none of the sheep stumble in and get squashed. Or stabbed. Or hung."

Garrivek, you know that the Darklands can be very dangerous, especially the deeper you go. For people who can't see easily in the dark, it might as well be suicide. Bringing light in is even worse, since it marks your location for predators and marks you as likely easy prey.

Arryn, it's never too late for a late snow. :)

Garrivek nods. "The gnome is probably right. Most of these folks wouldn't fare well underground."

"Traps with a trigger sounds like a good idea. Know any good ones?"

Dregg is about to voice his dissent about taking a bunch of torch-dependent people into the lightless depths of the Darklands when Garrivek beats him to it. The burly half-orc merely nods instead, working his jaw side to side as he considers the ongoing discussion.

At Garrivek's question, Isabella grins mirthlessly.
"And the bad ones, too."

Craft (traps) 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

So I guess the plan is to spend a couple days fortifying their position, then go about scouting for the trails of hobgoblin scouting parties to ambush, making their way towards the river to find and sabotage any crossings.

Since it is spring, they should probably consider clearing some land and planting crops of some kind, if there are any seeds in the supplies they just recovered. They could also build a smokehouse and start preserving some of the meat brought back from hunting.

At some point...
Having thanked Aramis for his daily prestidigitation shower, and before she can move on to the next refugees, Arryn waves Garrivek over. ”Your turn,” he says cheerfully (and hopefully).

Aramis aims her prestidigitation at Garrivek, quickly* cleaning him to a shine!

*it takes a few applications...

Garrivek seems surprised. "Yeah, I guess I was due for a good cleanse...." He wiggles his nose as if about to sneeze.

Several of the cavefolk come out to watch as Isabella starts crafting some traps in front of the entrance, Lirosa and Taidel watching most closely, occasionally asking questions. Most, however, seem a little lost: Now that the caves have been cleaned out and there's no need to search for shelter every day, those who aren't trying to make sure the group has enough food seem to sit and wait, as if they need someone to tell them what to do.

Isabella, please let me know more specifically what traps you're setting up.

--

Eventually, though, you decide it's time to leave the caves and see what else is happening in the world. Even though it's just been a matter of days since you escaped the hobgoblin camp, it feels like it's been longer, and that somehow the world has changed again.

Garrivek tags along as you begin making your way toward Phaendar, to see if you can get a better sense of what's happening. You have barely left the gully that leads to the cave, though, when you hear some human-like screaming echoing through the Fangwood!

Once he gets some pointers from Isabella on how to construct a deadfall above the cave entrance, Arryn drafts several strong fellows to go with him, chop a few small trees to use as a brace, and to start tracking down some good-sized boulders. He uses his mind to lift them, but needs the helpers to hold things in place as they place the stones and run a rope down the hill and into the cave.

Later, Arryn was about to make some crack about not being able to tell Dregg and Garrivek apart with his eyes closed when the scream cuts through the forest. Instantly, a dagger appears in Arryn’s hand and a blade of bluish force erupts from the hilt to about the length of a rapier.

The blue glow vanishes a second later, and Arryn quickly stuffs the dagger back into its sheathe. He attempts to identify the direction of the scream.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

”On the count of 3, everybody point the direction you think that came from, and majority wins. 1, 2, 3!”

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

"Uh.... THAT WAY!"

Aramis points.

Garrivek stops, trying to pinpoint the scream's source...

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19

After Arryn speaks, Garrivek raises an eyebrow at him... "I think it's this way." He points.

Then he draws his dorn-dergar and holds it ready.

"Sounds like trouble."

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

Dregg frowns, "Waste what time you like voting." He draws his axe and starts moving quickly toward the sound of the shouts, "I'm going this way." Despite his bulk, the half-orc's steps are impossibly sure as he dashes through the wood.

Aramis follows Dregg.

Isabella, please let me know more specifically what traps you're setting up.

A deadfall over the entrance does sound like a good plan. So do a couple of camouflaged spike pit traps -- if not for the folks who need to live here. Can we instead rig something like bear traps, with very solid pins that need to be pulled before they can snap shut?

Perception 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (5) + 12 = 17

Isabella quickly loads her heavy crossbow, then follows Dregg.

With the majority (apparently) voting for a particular direction, Arryn follows.

Garrivek starts to swirl his dorn-dergar as he hurries after Dregg, Aramis, and the others, alert for trouble.

You rush in the direction of the noise, noticing -- oddly -- that several rabbits are streaking past you in the other direction, zigging and zagging as if their lives depended on it!

A moment later you see what they were probably running from: A pair of bizarre half-bear, half-owl monstrosities are digging furiously at the ground. At the last moment they notice you, and let out hooting cries as they rise to their back claws and begin lumbering in your direction!

Isabella, Aramis and Dregg are up for Round 1/2 and combat map is updated (not sure I'll get to resolve actions before I leave, but I'll try if they're posted in time).

”Huh. Those look like some kinda bear...owls. Now how’s a thing like happen?” Dregg scratches his chin in bewilderment for a moment before shrugging and waving his hand over his axe. ”Hmmmff. Well, if they want a fight, I’ll give ‘em one. Heh heh.”

"Damn' Wizards'll smoke anything," Isabella tersely replies to Dregg's question as she pushes past him, aims at the nearer owlbear and squeezes off a bolt. "Cover me if they charge," she adds.

Ranged attack 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29 for 1d10 ⇒ 10 damage.
CRIT THREAT Confirmation roll 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 for 1d10 ⇒ 2 bonus damage.

Aramis raises her hands and chants, glowing with an ominous green pallor. The lines beneath her skin pulse, then she slams her hands down. A rain of mossy earth comes crashing down from the sky on the owlbears! Casting stone call. It's a 40 ft. radius cylinder, 20 ft. high. She's aiming it so it hits both owlbears, and most, but not all, of the space between us and the owlbears. Everything in the area takes the damage below, no saves or attack rolls, and the entire area of the spell becomes difficult terrain for four rounds.

Bludgeoning Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 3) = 6

The owlbears hoot in apparent anger and pain as the sky suddenly rains stones on them, followed a moment later by a bolt from Isabella's crossbow. Dregg prepares himself -- or more accurately his ax -- as the two creatures make their way forward through the stones.

Whole party is up now.

Isabella reloads and squeezes off another bolt at the nearest owlbear.
"All yours, green genes. I need to switch out," she tells Dregg.

Ranged 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 for 1d10 ⇒ 2 damage.

Arryn moves up next to Dregg so he can be within 30 feet of the nearest owlbear.

”Owlbears, bugbears, what’s next—snakebears? Bunnybears?”

”Stupid bugbears!” he growls to himself, picking up a stray rock and hurling it at the nearer owlbear with a lot more force than he used to.

Attack, empowered: 1d20 + 8 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 8 + 1 + 1 = 27
Damage: 3d6 + 3 + 4 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (5, 2, 5) + 3 + 4 + 1 + 2 = 22 * 1.5 = 33

Aramis moves around until she has a decent view of one of the owl bears, then casts out her arms, sending a few magical bolts of energy at the owlbear. Moving, if needed, so she can see an owl bear, then casting magic missile.

Force Damage: 1d4 + 1 + 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + (2) + 1 = 6

Garrivek pumps his fist into the air, causing his leather gloves to emit an audible hum. "Hey! Get out of here! Go on! Get!" With a thrust of his fist and ball of acid explodes all over the owlbears. Using energy blast for 2 focus points. It's a 20 ft. radius blast of acid with 100 ft. range, and he'll aim it so it hits both owlbears but no allies.

Acid Damage: 5d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 4, 5, 5) = 22 DC 15 Reflex for half damage.

”Wait. These things are called owlbears?” Dregg scoffs. ”Well that’s dumb.” He then wades forward and brings his axe down atop the crown of one of the owlbear’s head.

Greataxe: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28for: 3d6 + 15 ⇒ (1, 1, 2) + 15 = 19

Arryn kills the nearest owlbear with a powerful blow to its head, as the others rush toward the other remaining one, attacking it with spell and blade.

It keeps its feet, however, and horribly mauls the half-orc before you can put it down too. 27 hp, but I think the next round is pretty academic at this point, so combat over.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17
3d6 + 12 ⇒ (5, 4, 6) + 12 = 27

”So what made the human scream—the owlbears or the bunnies, or did those things get somebody first?”

Arryn looks for a body but stops once somebody tells him that rabbits can make a sound much like a human when it’s terrified.

When they have settled and patched up Dregg’s latest decorations, Arryn says, ”We can’t keep going this way. We are all becoming skilled in combat situations and that’s great, but we need to start working as a team, not a bunch of people following Dregg into battle and reacting to whatever we find. If that had been a hunting party of twenty hobgoblins instead of those two, this encounter would have gone very differently. Three of us are very skilled at stealth, Isabella especially. A few seconds to agree on a plan, a few more for Isabella to pick her way forward. Yes, I know those seconds might mean the difference between one of our people surviving and dying, but the odds are much more likely that those seconds would mean the difference between us dying or not. Some hand signals would also not go amiss, so that we can communicate without giving ourselves away.”

Having said his peace, Arryn sits back and waits for everybody to tell him he’s being a bloodthirsty idiot.