Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

You work your way up the sloping passage, splitting left where the passage branches.

Beyond a stone arch lies an impossible expanse of broad meadow in bright daylight filled with swaying wildflowers. A young farm maiden stands in the center of the field, her right arm draped over the muscular neck of a great ox.

As you approach the entrance, she turns and smiles at you.

"Hello," she says brightly.

"Hello!" Quinn responds immediately, but then remembers what happened just minutes ago. "Oh No, not this time you sneaky witches! Your idyllic pastoral settings won't fool me! Cayden guide me through this temptation!" Quinn prays to his god, seeking guidance.

cast Guidance on self

Alright, so we have an ox, a maiden, and wildflowers... ah, and daylight... here...

Tsin strides into the meadow, intent on learning what kind of glamer exists in this cavern. Only after interacting with several wildflowers does she turn on the maiden. "Is this scene for your benefit, or ours? Speak truth. Are you also in need of saving too, like the hag we just slaughtered?"

Preemptive Will Save to Disbelieve...: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21

Feeling the increased speed recently summoned, Tsin circles the maiden, sword drawn. If not for the ox, she would be closer.

"Nothing in these halls is defenseless, so drop your guise now."

ZephTyr flexes and preens in the air in case this one maiden is both fair and true. Just the same he pillows with forestorming as he speaks.

"Truly, maiden, we have met many on our journies who would beguile and lie to decieve us rather than speak truth. We are not easily decieved and have powerful magics to strip illusions our eyes; be truthful with us and expect the same in return."

Despite Tsin's suspicions, as far as she can tell, the field is in fact there.

"So suspicious, and fierce," the woman coos. "I promise, I wear no illusion.

"Can the same be said for you, I wonder? Why does such a fine company find itself in Artrosa?"

Malavarius nods approvingly to Quinn, patting the man encouragingly on the shoulder. He then turns to face the room's occupants and attempts to detect any magics that might be in the area or upon the woman or ox.

The last of her mental strength in sussing out lies, Tsin focuses immediately on the woman's declaration of being illusion-free. Last Round of Discern Lies

At least you don't mewl for rescue...

Tsin realizes, possibly late, that they are wandering within the statue of a Maiden, and they have encountered two, or the portrayal of two at least. The thought seems to preoccupy her for the moment, and she leaves the recent question for the others to answer.

"Can the same be said for you, I wonder? Why does such a fine company find itself in Artrosa?"

ZephTyr billows, trying to give the woman time and reason to be honest.

"We are here because the witches stole our summer. We are here because the only way to return our lands to beauty of sun and warmth is return that negligent whoremother Baby Yacki back to power...because her children are pissing us off," ZephTyr rages.

"Now if you know where we can find Yucky Baby, or the keys to the damned hut that brought us here, help us or get out of our way. Better witchykind than you have tried to stop us, and we will give you their fate should you seek to decieve or stop us."

Quinn desperately wants to walk into the field and feel the warth of summer, but he focuses on the strange maiden. "My friend is a bit gusty today. We are a fine company and we're just traveling through Artosa, not living in magical fields inside of it. You don't seem a prisoner, so tell us, who are you and why do you choose to live here?" Quinn smiles to hide his concern She might be real and ZephTyr is gonna swoop in and steal the girl away from me

assuming a sense motive will be needed, will use Guidance on that
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 7 + 1 = 12

"Baby Yacki? Could you possibly mean Baba Yaga, little elemental?" the woman asks, her voice bubbling with a restrained laugh. "Why do you seek one such as her?"

are there magics? are there are there are there?

Malavarius shakes his head sadly, his beard wagging with the motion, "Her daughters are running amok and stretching winter across the whole of Golarion, that's why. Seems she's the only one who can stop them. And I've good reason to suspect she knows where my good hat's gotten to."

Pems shakes his head and hides a grin. "We've been charged by her Black Rider with finding her and restoring her from whatever fate she's gotten into. We discovered two keys and when we put them in her Hut, it brought us here."

You do detect a magical aura, Mal.

"So do you believe she is here then?"

"So do you believe she is here then?"

ZephTyr roils at the question.

"Enough, WitchyKin! We have answered your questions honestly...and you provide no answers of your own. Either answer or stand aside."

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (17) + 17 = 34 (+1 more if its source is an evil arcane caster)

"Well, if that's going to be your attitude, I'm afraid I shall indeed depart," she says with a moue. A moment later, she disappears.

Mal continues concentrating, discovering a single aura of moderate strength.

Does the aura vanish when she does? Did the ox vanish too?

The aura did not vanish when she did. Nor did the ox.

ZephTyr spits when the witchywoman leaves.

"At least she had the decency not to try and lie or trick us before she fled," ZephTyr admires. "Count that as a better than average witch point for her."

ZephTyr looks around the area before being ready to move on.

1d20 + 18 ⇒ (20) + 18 = 38 Perception

Malavarius continues to concentrate (also, I'd rolled spellcraft instead of arcana previously so there's no bonus if the source was an evil arcane caster)
"Hold on there, Hektir. She's left but the magic hasn't. Watch yourself, lad. He strokes his beard as he tries to make sense of the magic woven in the area. "Wait a second, why's the ox still here? Who leaves a perfectly good ox in a witch's monument?"

"Wait a second, why's the ox still here? Who leaves a perfectly good ox in a witch's monument?"

ZephTyr looks at the ox hungrily.

"You know, maybe we're meant to eat the ox? This is a nice place to rest, right? And they've given us a feastbeast to eat too."

ZephTyr thinks of some good oxtail stew.

"Yes, Hektir, because gifts from witches have been nothing but helpful to us in the past." Pems mutters, staring at the ox suspiciously.

As Mal continues to concentrate, he realizes the magical aura is fading. At the same time, the image of the grassy meadow fades, leaving you realizing you remain in a large cave.

The ox fades, revealing a bull-like creature seemingly made of interlocking metallic plates. Faint plumes of green smoke puff from its mouth.

Aww; whole party is up before it. No map while I'm at work.

Round 1, Init 24

Knowledge(Arcana) Check v DC 18, Monster Lore: 1d20 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 7 + 3 = 19 DR?

As the meadow fades, and the gorgon reveals itself, Tsin sighs with resignation. "Color me surprised. At least the wench leaves us in peace to deal with her pet gorgon. She has a pet gorgon, gentlemen. Likely, it will try and follow us home, so let's put it down, right here, right now."

Tsin doesn't waste time, closing distance, circling the beast to allow one of the others to take its flank.

+1 Falchion, Power Attack: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 13 - 2 = 20 for 2d4 + 8 + 6 ⇒ (4, 4) + 8 + 6 = 22 damage

No DR

Knowledge (arcana): 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31
special defenses, special attacks, special weakness, resistances?

Tsin, you still have stoneskin going, don't forget!

"A gorgon?!" Malavarius starts at Tsin's claim then narrows his eyes at the bull-like creature. "Good heavens, you're right! A gorgon! Watch yourselves! Gorgons are known for their <insert results of knowledge check here>." Malavarius keeps his distance from the creature and wonders at how he might help bring it down.

total defense

"If you can cook this, Hektir, my opinion of your culinary skills just went up substantially!" Knowledge Arcana: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28 Worst save? Does it like to cuddle halflings?

Pems concentrates on the creature, making his eyes all evil! Evil Eye targeting saves, Will Save DC 17!

Tsin, you still have Pems' Ward on until you're hit. +2 deflection to AC and +2 resistance to saves. Doesn't stack with rings of prot or cloaks of resistance, but it might help!

No special defenses, weaknesses or resistances. Worst save is Reflex. It can breath a cloud of green gas that can turn everyone caught in it to stone, plus trample people. Map should be up in 5-10 minutes.

Round 1, Init 10

ZephTyr zips to attack the not-ox, flying one square right and 2 squares up so that next turn he can flank with Tsin.

1d20 + 12 - 1 ⇒ (10) + 12 - 1 = 21 to hit; (power attack)
1d6 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 7 + 2 = 13 slam damage.

Round 1

"Enough of these witchy shenanigans!" Quinn leaps to the right side of the creature as he draws his rapier and jabs at the beast.

move down 1 square, 5 squares right, then 2 squares up, so if 10' reach it's AoO on the last move

Rapier: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Tsin's blow just barely makes it through the creature's armor as Hektir hits from the other side, the gorgon roaring in obvious displeasure.

It flinches slightly from Pems' gaze, giving Quinn enough of a chance to plink it with his blade and snorts in displeasure, a couple puffs of greenish smoke emerging from its nostrils.

Pawing at the ground, it inhales -- chest visibly inflating -- before letting out a huge cloud of green smoke that rolls over Pems and Mal! DC 21 Fortitude save to resist the effects, but those who fail the save are immediately petrified.

Mal, you remember as the cloud washes over you that its ability isn't permanent -- unless you're caught in its cloud for a second time.

Round 2, Init 24

Ah, thanks Mal!! Completely misplaced the Stoneskin, while remembering the Ward of master Pems was still in place until struck :)

Tsin hastens to add a second swing on the gorgon, watching it billow green smoke. She shudders to think what Pems and Mal are experiencing.

+1 Falchion, Flank, Power Attack: 1d20 + 13 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 13 + 2 - 2 = 23 for 2d4 + 8 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 8 + 6 + (5) = 26 damage, including Precision Strike

Iterative: 1d20 + 8 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 8 + 2 - 2 = 25 for 2d4 + 8 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (2, 4) + 8 + 6 + (5) = 25 damage, including Precision Strike

"Hold on, gentlemen, almost done here..."

Fort Save (DC 21): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Malavarius, unsurprisingly, turns into a statue.

Tsin glances over, briefly taking in Mal's stony expression, his color largely unchanged.

"What, did I say something untoward? Your level of grumpiness has no limits does it? Get going, and bring forth a casting that will... oh. Oh."

Round 2, Init 10

ZephTyr attacks the not-ox, slamming at it twice with airy fists.

1d20 + 12 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 12 - 1 + 2 = 24 to hit; (power attack, +flank)
1d6 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 2 = 14 slam damage.

1d20 + 7 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 7 - 1 + 2 = 22 to hit; (power attack, +flank)
1d6 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 7 + 2 = 11 slam damage.

Pems Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7 And Pems as well turns into a statue as well.

Round 2

As his companions rain massive blows upon the bull like creature, Quinn continues to jab at it with his thin blade.
will shift if flanking is possible with ZephTyr

Rapier, attack 1: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Rapier, attack 2: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

As Mal and Pems look on stony-faced, Tsin and Hektir's blows lay the creature low.

Looking around, you realize that in addition to the gorgon, the illusory field covered a half-eaten corpse of a frost giant. A quick search of the corpse yields a sack -- Hektir and Tsin think it was probably made from something’s stomach -- containing a climber’s kit, 50 feet of giant-sized rope, and rough-cut gemstones worth a total of 2,650 gp.

Pems and Mal will eventually return to flesh; it requires a Fort save each round, but since there's no time pressure at the moment, I think we can assume it'll happen at some point in the next couple minutes.

ZephTyr flies to Pems and Mal, spinning and twirling and trying to disperse the bad gas. He twirls and blows angrily until the yahoos return to normal.

It is clear he is worried until they return to form.

"Zeno, if ever there was a time you cared to practice aerial bombing manuevers on a statue, now's the time. You have the novice-level Mal statue, and the expert-level halfling statue, if you're feeling confident." Tsin attempts outward humor, growing more concerned inwardly for her companions' stony state.

"Ah!!!" Pems returns to flesh with a sudden exhalation of air, blinking his eyes to clear them of dust and... bird droppings? "What in the name of my great Aunt Hagatha was that thing?!?"

Pemsworth recovers more quickly than does Malavarius, the old wizard remaining as stone for nearly two minutes longer than the halfling. Finally though, as worry begins to approach its zenith, the mage's stony form begins to crack then flake away.

As his form is restored, the aging man collapses to his knees, coughing violently and gasping for air. Once the fit has passed, he leans wearily on his staff as he struggles to stand, still obviously winded. "Jehoshaphat! That was <huff> terrible. Positively <wheeze> terrible." He looks at the others, still shuddering with each labored breath. "Is the- gorgon dead? Tell an old man you vanquished it."

"Yes, Mal. The gorgon is quite dead. A minion of yet another witch. I'm a little irritated that I was unable to see through her illusion. Not sure if that means I'm slow-witted, or she's that powerful."

Tsin grows curious about the gorgon itself. "Metallic through and through, I wonder?" She sets about harvesting the tender backstrap of the animal, should she be able to find her way past the metal.

Should that prove successful, she returns to the fork in the tunnel, and proceeds down the right branch this time.

ZephTyr follows Tsin, rain clouding her way.

Malavarius shakes his head as Tsin and Hektir press onward. Glancing up at his winter hat, he remarks, "They don't know what it's like to be old, do they, Zeno? Impatience is the hallmark of youth after all, I suppose."
"Maybe Tsin is trying to bump into what trouble there might be while your protection still surrounds her."
Malavarius blinks a few times, then stammers nonsense for a moment before finally admitting, "Why, Zeno, I dare say that was quite insightful and reasonable of you."
"Yes, well, I don't know why you would expect any less. I'm quite insightful, after all. Now then, catch your breath already. You're too old to be wandering these tunnels on your own and the others are getting away from you."

"Wow, that thing had worse breath than Hektir after festival week. Tsin, are you sure about harvesting meat from that beast, it might give us some bad gas?"

Tsin snorts unexpectedly, making a noise not dissimilar from the gorgon's. "Well, I imagine that cooking the meat through should concern us less, and I'll leave the sweetbreads alone, of course."

"Maybe Tsin is trying to bump into what trouble there might be while your protection still surrounds her."

"Yes, exactly how long does this protection last, Mal? I may take a slower pace if it lasts as long as is needed, since we'll be needing all the protections we can get through these statues..."

"We didn't get Gorgon Girl's name, did we?"

"We didn't get Gorgon Girl's name, did we?"

ZephTyr snorts at roils, thinking of his own names with the witchyb*+&&y.

"This is a strange area. We barely know what we seek and have no idea even what questions to ask."

ZephTyr spits.

Malavarius answers Tsin's first question with a stroke of his beard, "Oh, a little more than an hour, I'd say. Though there's also only so much that particular protection can withstand in terms of punishment, so it could be significantly less than that. But on it's own, more than an hour, most certainly."

He then turns to Hektir, "Nonsense, lad. Baba Yaga's hut brought us here and those riddlesome ravens of hers pointed us specifically to this wretched place. I think perhaps Baba Yaga's trapped somehow within these halls. Once we free her, we can be done with all this wintry business, lay aside that doomed Rider's parting gift, recover my good hat, and get back to sunny Taldor!"

"At least the witchy girl didn't attack us outright. She just left us to the mercies of her stone-breathing ox. I'm with Hektir on this: I'm floundering for a direction to go. How are we to find Baba Yaga if we don't even know if she's really missing?"