Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

"Blow me to Brevoy, that was terrible!" As Pemsworth digs at the hole in the floor, Malavarius wags a chastizing finger at the halfling then turns it toward Quinn as well. "Look at me! I'm a wrinkled, withered old man! Don't you two ever make me have to bring you back from Pharasma's Boneyard like that again! Good heavens, but that was almost a disaster." His anger running out of fuel, the old wizard's tone shifts to that of a worried and concerned grandfather as his gaze softens, "Now then, I trust young master Pemsworth is feeling fine given the fervor with which he's digging at that hole. Are you alright, Quinn? Hektir? Tsin? How about you, my girl?"

SIX THOUSAND POSTS WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!

Wow. We're like the wind...

Pems is able to extract the gem, it's light fading as it leaves the hole, though it still feels warm to the touch.

Blinking, Pems stands up with a triumphant shout. "Got it! This is the damnable gem that was blinding us and hiding those fey."

Hektir stretches his legs, going over to kneel next to Pems, watching the little man work. Hektir's eyes don't flicker to Dinner the Rabbit at all while he watches, not taking advantage of the halfling's distraction/concentration to finally make a good, tasty stew.

"Nice work, Pems," Hektir concedes as he frees the gem. "Is it magical? Useful?"

Quinn continues healing Pems and himself.

Cure Serious Wounds, Pems: 3d8 + 8 ⇒ (8, 1, 1) + 8 = 18

Cure Serious Wounds, Quinn: 3d8 + 8 ⇒ (2, 1, 7) + 8 = 18

"Stupid witchey fey, now I'll even be afraid of the light in this dark tomb! There should be a group that rounds up the bad fey, like outside a logging camp or something, and they pay a bounty for every one you bring to them trapped in a iron cage." Quinn sounds confident and surely his plan wouldn't be subverted for evil purposes.

Tsin taps her forearm, the stoniness of the magical protection slipping already. "Right as rain, Mal, now that the slaughterers are slaughtered." She paces slightly, keeping an eye on the direction from whence they came. "And you, old man, how are you holding up? You held your own there for a bit, surrounded and hounded. I... I might have rushed us a bit, given your protections. It won't do if we overextend ourselves like that again."

She lets her gaze take in the gemcutter, and his excitement over prying something loose. "Be careful with that, master Pems. For the strength of that light, it would be bad to blind yourself."

"Lead on, Hektir. I'd like to rest as soon as possible. My calf is fit to cramp."

Pems examines the gem. Spellcraft w/detect magic: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (13) + 14 = 27

Malavarius answers Tsin's worry with a tired tug on his beard. "I'm rather exhausted, my dear. Truth be told, I thought those miserable fey were going to be the end of me. Imagine that: old Malavarius dying inside a monument to Baba Yaga of all places. What a terrible thought!"

You believe it will function as a gem of brightness, Pems, though it is about half-spent. it's got 25 charges.

Where to?

"It's a gem of brightness. It can glow like a torch, or it can cause a bright light that blinds, but it can only used a few more times before it ceases to be magical. Shall I carry it or would it be better for Mal to have it? It might help him find his hat.." Pems says with a grin.

"What's that? Someone's found my good hat? Where is it? Hmmm?! Come on then, where is it?"
A loud crack can be heard as Zeno pecks his wizard atop the skull in frustration. As he does so though, the protective magics that shielded Malavarius from their recent attackers' blades buckle and fail, darkening over the old man's skin before suddenly chipping then flaking away in the span of a breath.
His frustration with Malavarius' absent minded questions now eclipsed, Zeno grunts in pain as his slumps back into the central bowl of his wizard's winter hat. "Owwwwww!"

Hektir marches the team back to the cul-de-sac room. It's next to the S on the map.

"Mebbe we can sleep here for the night. Let's set up watches for the witches. I don't doubt that they may try to attack us in the night. Thems witches can't be trusted," Hektir spits near the place he was going to place his bedroll.

Hektir leads you back to the room containing the gorgon and giant corpses.

1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 33 Perception

Hektir looks around the room, his echolocating aiding this vision in ways that bats understand.

"Say, Quinn, does this room look the same as before? Did you tidy up in here?"

Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (11) + 16 = 27

Quinn stares in befuddlement at Hektir, for just a moment looking exactly like Mal. "Have I ever taken the time to tidy up anywhere? Though, now that you mention it, things do appear to be cleaner than when we departed. Perhaps a house elf lurks about this tomb? Would make sense, we've seen nary a scat and fey beasties lurk everywhere."

"Could we camp here? I think a night's rest might be the cure for this place." Pems asks, feeling as if the nights and days have merged in this sunless place.

Hektir looks at Pems.

"I don't see why not. Unless you want to go outside and try to bargain with the tree?" Hektir answers the halfling. P.S. Pems, isn't your picture/icon that of a gnome? Had to go doublecheck what I knew of ye.

Hektir, after planning watch, makes camp.

Possibly. I just really dug the big nose/ears and look of him.

Tsin plants herself along the wall towards the entrance of the cave from the branch. She allows the boys to regain their collective strength, before she claims her own time to sleep. While awake, she spends time on the gorgon, stripping from it nourishment that she'll share with the others. She'll also keep a piece of the metallic plate, for a later time and dinner conversation.

"Cleaner? This place is cleaner than we left it? That means more trouble makers have been this way already, no doubt!" Malavarius grumbles as he looks about the room and regards the tidier state they've found it in. "No, no. This won't do at all. We need some place better than this, that's for certain. What we need is a nice, stout door! Yes, that'd be the ticket." The wizard turns to the others then, tugging his beard, "Can't we find a door we can use instead of this great big open mess?"

I'm going to assume despite Mal's words you're going to try to hole up here.

Despite your concerns and the careful watches, the night passes uneventfully and you awake in the morning, feeling refreshed and ready to search the rest of this strange statue.

1d20 ⇒ 10
1d20 ⇒ 18
1d20 ⇒ 3

New Spells Prepped!
Who wants a +2 magic weapon for 8 hours? Malavarius will cast greater magic weapon on whomever will benefit from it most as well as mage armor on Hektir.

I'll take it. :)

Putting it on Hektir's scimitar would be 'keen', Mal. It will give him a magic weapon. But if Tsin wants it, ZephTyr and his magical airy fists can do the job too.

Hektir rises early and spends a bit of time in his (mental) man cave, where he is the master of his own domain. Hektir finds that morning times are easiest time to mancave it up, as his mind and body are fresh and relaxed.

When that is done, we will be ready to continue. He adds is own magics to Mal's.

When others are ready, he door on the South (left side of map) to go that way.

Quinn follows along, subdued in his usual exuberance after nearly getting the party killed yesterday. "It's just not fair, they hide in the light, I'll never feel safe again!"

Flickering light fills this cavern, emanating from the eye sockets of nine skulls hanging from chains staked into the walls with iron spikes. Huge stone menhirs form a ring about the perimeter of the chamber, catching the candlelight and tearing it into swaths of wavering shadow. The gutted corpses of two frost giants hang from two of the menhirs, facing each other from the east and west. Bound to the massive stones with rusted chains, the giants are soaked in their own blood, which flows into the center of the room to disappear into a huge pile of wilted wildflower blossoms.

Pems, you think you notice something moving among the blossoms. You can act in a surprise round, good sir.

Combat map updated when I'm at home.

Tsin's sword is already magic, so let's say it went to your scimitar, Hektir. Spread the DR-overcoming magics around a bit =)

Malavarius turns his head away from the gruesome menhirs in disgust. "Ugh! Blasted, foul witches!"

Pems suddenly freezes. "We're not alone!" He touches Tsin and casts his ward on her! +2 Deflection to armor and resistance to Saves!

Pems sounds the alarm and good-touches Tsin as the blossoms suddenly fall away from a rising form that is equally as beautiful as it is horrid, almost too much too look at. Blood drips off the darkened skin of her naked form, caked particularly thickly on her taloned hands.

She casts, cackling wildly about more prey for her to play with, and a rain of dirt, gravel, and small pebbles suddenly fills the room, slamming into you and coating the ground, making footing treacherous. Everyone take 5 bludgeoning damage and everything in the circle is considered difficult terrain.

2d6 ⇒ (2, 3) = 5

All but Mal are up

Round 1

"Hektir, my friend, she is all yours." Quinn blesses his companions against the foul threat, his prayers more feverish than usual.

cast Blessing of Fervor

Each round for the duration of this spell, each of your allies can choose one of the following bonuses for that round at the beginning of its turn (their choice).

~ Increase its speed by 30 feet.
~ Stand up as a swift action without provoking an attack of opportunity.
~ Make one extra attack as part of a full attack action, using its highest base attack bonus.
~ Gain a +2 bonus on attack rolls and a +2 dodge bonus to AC and Reflex saves.
~ Cast a single spell of 2nd level or lower as if it were an enlarged, extended, silent, or still spell.

Round 1, Init 20

1d20 + 14 ⇒ (15) + 14 = 29 Know (Nature)?

Hektir gives Quinn a look and spits, glaring at the priest as he moves into the room 40' (one move action, before the left stone).

When he gets there, he calls fire to his hand. Cast Extended Produce Flame (with the Fervor bonus).

Hektir tosses a ball of flame at the spellcaster.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 fire damage (1/16 used).

You believe it was a nymph, but something clearly happened to it and it's not a normal nymph anymore. Also, you suspect that if it is still anything like a nymph, it might be able to blind you if you get a closer look at it (you can change the above action if you want).

And are you Zephtyr or Hektir?

Pfft! Ain't no witchywoman going to make Hektir shield his eyes!!

Hektir. A mortal man.

"Watch her gaze," Hektir says. "She's a trollop in the face."

Knowledge (nature): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (2) + 11 = 13 I presume nature is the appropriate check? If planes is better, add 6 to the result!

Looking for resistances, worst saves, special defenses

She's very pretty, Mal, in a horrific sort of way. And it doesn't sound like Quinn's interested, so less competition. Hektir, do you want to know anything about her beyond what I sort of told you already?

Hektir, do you want to know anything about her beyond what I sort of told you already?

If this was a woman in a bar, Hektir would want to know what move would work best. Would it be the dangling dutchman? Or the wingman reverse? Or the cowboy macaroon? Hektir's tried them all to pick up women.

However, seeing as this dread beauty already seems like she despises Hektir before having the pleasure of his company, Hektir would like to know her resistances/DR.

You believe anything other than cold iron will have a very difficult time hurting her (DC 15/cold iron). You don't believe she should have any other resistances.

Perfectly happy with the GMW going to Hektir :) always appreciative of the magical enhancements...

Round 1, Init 25--->Delay to Init 19

Tsin pulls up short, irritated by the sudden smack from the gravel. It gives her pause, as she hears the others mention caution. With Pems at her back, and Quinn quickening her pulse, Tsin stands still, and allows her Quiver to bring forth javelins as fast as she can throw them. She steps 5' to the north, in order to line up a clear shot.

Bane(Fey)1/5 rounds

Cold Iron Javelin, Range Penalty: 1d20 + 8 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 8 - 2 + 2 = 27 for 1d6 + 5 + 2d6 ⇒ (4) + 5 + (2, 2) = 13 damage

Cold Iron Javelin, Range Penalty, Iterative: 1d20 + 3 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 3 - 2 + 2 = 12 for 1d6 + 5 + 2d6 ⇒ (6) + 5 + (2, 4) = 17 damage

Cold Iron Javelin, Range Penalty, Fervor: 1d20 + 8 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 8 - 2 + 2 = 23 for 1d6 + 5 + 2d6 ⇒ (6) + 5 + (2, 3) = 16 damage

You can't 5-foot step in difficult terrain.

You can't 5-foot step in difficult terrain.

Also, you need QuickDraw if you're going to toss that many javs in one round...unless you already had them in hand.

HP 45/50

Pems will sigh; yet another deadly beauty to kill. He casts phantasmal killer, DC 18, hoping to end this thing quickly. SR check, if needed: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Sorry, my bad... erroneously placed Difficult Terrain solely within the Menhirs... so much for late night posting...

Tsin moves up alongside the Menhir, and fires a single javelin at the fey.

No Bane, sadly, but also no range penalty then from the repositioning.

The woman cackles madly at Pems' spell as it washes harmlessly over her. Quinn casts too, Cayden's power filling his companions.

Tsin advances and as she looks at the woman to aim the javelin, she suddenly realizes its beauty is too much, and everything goes black! She hears the javelin clatter on the floor, clearly not hitting as her dying vision spoiled her aim.

Hektir proves, oddly, immune to her allure as he advance, though even then it's enough to throw off his aim and his fireball sails wide, splashing harmlessly against a far menhir.

Still cackling, the woman backs up and begins to cast.

Hektir grumbles as Tsin takes in the 'beauty' of the nymph, drinking in the image of what a real woman looks like.

Hektir facepalms almost instantaneously, his face gritting with the distaste of the warning that just left his lips.

"No, Tsin ! NO!! SHAKE IT OFF!" Hektir roars.

Bestow luck to Inescapable Luck to give Tsin a +4 on that save as an immediate action. Is that enough?

It is indeed; barely! Which means the javelin hit, doing 13 hp damage.

Realizing what the beauteously hideous creature is casting, Malavarius tugs on his beard in alarm before sending a pair of fiery beams lancing from the head of his staff. "Watch it! She's trying to call some other twisted disaster of a creature to help her!"

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (2) + 18 = 20
Scorching Ray: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 5 + 2 = 19for: 4d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 6, 3) = 14
Scorching Ray: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 5 + 2 = 26for: 4d6 ⇒ (6, 2, 6, 4) = 18

SR (1st ray, if needed): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
SR (2nd ray, if needed): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24

BoF: +2 bonus to hit, dodge, ref
move laterally if needed to line up a shot, but after watching Tsin nearly go blind Malavarius will keep his distance from the nasty-pretty fey-thing

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (15) + 14 = 29 Pems nods at Mal's words and moves so that the menhir is not blocking him and casts lightning bolt at the devilish woman!

SR check?: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Electricity!: 7d6 ⇒ (2, 1, 1, 5, 5, 6, 4) = 24 Reflex DC 17 for half!

Round 2

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Quinn trusts in his companion's superior ability and moves forward to support Tsin. "I can bless your weapon with fire or give you flight?" While the butcher decides, the cleric calls down another blessing for the party.

cast Bless, Mott, will that stack with Fervor, or do they both count as morale bonuses?

Blessing's attack bonii are untyped to my knowledge. They should stack.

Round 2, Init 20

Hektir tosses balls of flame at the spellcaster.

1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 8 + 1 = 29 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 fire damage (2/16 used).

Blessing:
1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 8 + 1 = 12 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 fire damage (3/16 used).

Iterative:
1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 3 + 1 = 14 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 fire damage (4/16 used).

Pot Crit:
1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 1 = 22 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 fire damage (2/16 used).

"She... what was that? My sight dimmed so quickly... so... beautiful..." Tsin slowly brings her gaze around to meet Quinn's. Her eyes start to decloud.

"Flight. Please. I'll not have it out of my reach."