Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

"Lover's spat? Well, you can leave if you want, I suppose. We're no friends of Jadrenka and we're just looking for a cookbook and then we're off to Heavens knows where. But, if you wanna travel with us, one of these two," he points his thumb at Quinn and Hektir, "are gonna hit on you. You were warned."

"A cookbook? I might be able to help you find it, if you promise to get me out of here first..."

Pems shrugs and looks to his fellows to see what they think.

As the woman describes her relationship with Jadrenka, Malavarius' face prunes with reflexive disgust. "Jaydrinker or whatever her name is? Truly?" An involuntarily shudder shakes his shoulders at this and once it passes he waves Pemsworth toward the woman. "Bah. There's no accounting for taste I suppose. Pemsworth, lad, why don't you try that key on her bindings?"

"When they beg for help, or to come along, or offer help in exchange for protection, that's when you kill them for the deceptive hags they are." Tsin draws her weapon, and begins to stalk towards the crying whelp.

Pems nods and tries the key on the woman's chains.

The woman is not in any chains. The door was locked, and locked well, when you entered (Pems couldn't just take 10). And since Tsin's moving to attack...

Pems can act before her attack, though anyone else can take free actions to try to talk her out of it.

Pems moves between Tsin and the woman. "Whoa! At least let me see if she radiates any magic before we condemn her to death!" Turning around, Pems uses detect magic on the woman.

Tsin glowers at Marislova, her view unobstructed, though her path be blocked. She understands it would only take a hip check to move the halfling out of her way, but she desists in her attack at Pems's bidding.

"Be quick about it. If she's a denizen of this damned hall, she's already dead."

"But, if you wanna travel with us, one of these two," he points his thumb at Quinn and Hektir, "are gonna hit on you. You were warned."

As if on cue, Hektir smiles and flexes his shoulders and arms. In a show of good manners, he declines to spit.

He also jumps to intercede on the woman's behalf, standing in front of Tsin.

"Don't worry, ma'am, with me around women won't be abusing you. You're safe with me," Hetkir says good-coppedly. He spins to give Tsin a thankful head nod.

Well played, Tsin. I didn't think you had it in you. Usually Quinn is the bad cop.

Pems rolls his eyes as he casts the cantrip to show him magical auras.

"Don't worry, ma'am, with me around women won't be abusing you. You're safe with me"

Quinn regards Hektir with a curious stare based on years of experience proving his exact statement very untrue. I suppose that if he believes it himself, then technically it's not a lie

You guys know she can hear you, right?

Pems detects magic from the woman but gets no time to further investigate as she reacts to Tsin's death threats.

"I don't know what cruelty this is, but Jadrenka should have warned you that I am no easy mark!" she cries, wincing as Tsin lands a shot as Marislova closes in on the former butcher and pulls one of her axes.

She casts and then hacks at Tsin, whose armor catches both blows.

Party is up.

"Tsin, stop being jealous, Hektir deserves a wife with a cookbook as much as anyone, you included." Quinn turns his attention to the tramp. "Look here, Mary's lover, I understand you were also Jaydrinker's lover and now you have Hektir swooning over you as well. It's time you stopped all this fighting and made a final decision, which lover will it be?" Approximately 18 seconds after meeting the woman, Quinn demands she make a life shaping decision.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Round 1, Init 20

Tsin looks down on her armor, glad for its durability as it takes both hits from the axe and deflects them.

"Jadrenka told us nothing of you. She left us to trip over you like all the other evil lurking in this blasted..." Tsin pauses, remembering it's been forever since she's taken time to actually study something or someone for its evil nature. "without warning us... without care..."

She stands at the ready. "Gentlemen, if you want to trust this woman, you should probably try and restrain her. She might actually want to die here."

Malavarius blurt in alarm as Tsin rushes toward Marislova, and then again as the shouting woman draws her axe and rushes Tsin in kind.

"Good heavens! You're all blood-thirsty malcontents, all of you! Hasn't enough blood been shed in this miserable pit? Both of you put your weapons down, for goodness sake!"

"Gentlemen, if you want to trust this woman, you should probably try and restrain her. She might actually want to die here."

"Why are we killing her when we could have just gone back and killed Rattybore instead?" Hektir asks, trying to intercede between the two women fighting over him (he presumes).

Round 1, Init 15

Hektir readies to bull rush whichever woman throws the next punch, claw, or sword.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17 CMB Bull Rush (will provoke)

"Get back! Get back! Or you'll see there is plenty of me to go around!"

"Get back! Get back! Or you'll see there is plenty of me to go around!"

Oh snap! That's the most real and terrifying threat I think we've seen in this game to date!

Pems just withdraws, sick of trying to save those too stupid to save themselves.

Quinn and Mal's attempts to stop the fight are fruitless as the bleeding Marislova doesn't seem inclined to listen after being threatened repeatedly with death. Also, guys, misusing people's names don't really help with your social skill checks -- she's going to be even less inclined to listen when you mispronounce Jadrenka's name.

Hektir tries to bowl into her as she continues her assault on Tsin, but a slash from her axe makes him flinch at the last moment, doing little more than bumping her and leaving her open for a blow from Tsin's blade.

She hacks twice more at Tsin, wild blows that don't come close to connecting, but has more luck as she casts at the same time -- three bolts of magical force slamming into Tsin. 14 hp

Malavarius slaps one wrinkled hand to his face in frustration as it seems neither side will back down. "Zeno? Zeno! Do you think if I set them all on fire they'd learn their lesson and stop trying to kill one another?" "What? No! Of course not!"
The old wizard frowns, wishing he could call up another wall of flame to bring a forced pause to the hosilities. "Blast it all! We're looking for the thrice blighted book to avoid any further bloodshed, not cause more of it!"

"Child! Child! The door behind us is open! Put your axes down and walk away, for the love of summer, please!"

Round 2, Init 20

Tsin takes the new attack in stride. "So, you're a witch, after all? Or do you draw your strength from the gods, woman?" She backs up 5', and readies another swing, should Marislova show a new face, having already demonstrated a propensity for magical castings. "I should be able to continue trading blows with you. The men here may find my actions ill-suited to their attempts to woo you. Quinn, will you still heal me tomorrow?"

Tsin will simply retreat if Quinn threatens her by withholding healing.

"Yes, I will either heal you or pray for diseases to be removed from Hektir" pledges Quinn.

Round 2, Init 15

Hektir lets the women go at it. He tried to be reasonable, but if neither one is smart enough to not fight, then neither one was smart enough for him.

He stands aside and watches.

"Let's go deal with Rattybore. No need for us to waste our time here...when we could knock him out and toss him out of the hut."

Tsin's retreat seems to calm Marislova enough that she stops her attacks, though she continues to breathe heavily, axes clearly held up in a defensive position. She casts yet another spell and seems to blur in front of your eyes, though she takes no further aggressive action.

"I am no witch," she says, keeping a wary eye on you.

"Bully for you. Like I said before, we're looking for a cookbook. Have you seen one?"

Hektir spits, no longer caring if he offends.

"Suuuurrreeeee you're not a witch. You just admit to keeping company with them. And even when you have the chance to leave the coven via the open doors, instead you cast spells and attack us," Hektir notes sarcastically. "Yeah, but you're no witch."

Hektir shakes his head, trying to get out of the foul mood the witch put him in.

"But pretending we believe that you're not a witch, maybe you could tell us where the cookbook is as a way to thank us for freeing you..."...you witch.

Malavarius turns to Zeno as Hektir's Hektirian approach to talking seems destined for a renewal of hostilities. "Perhaps I should set those louts we travel with on fire, eh Zeno?" He throws up his hands in frustration before Zeno can answer then points to the door they entered through. "Before anyone gets any more grumpy ideas, my dear the way behind us is clear. Please, go with our best wishes." He then looks at the others, "The rest of you, pick one of these other two doors and let the woman be!"

For all the damage wrought against the damsel, Tsin finally takes the time to study her for the shadow. Cast Detect Evil

"At least you're no hag. I'll admit I was wrong to assume you were simply another illusion we've had to deal with. We're even then, as you made the same assumption about us, equally wrong."

Tsin walks up alongside Quinn, and tugs on his sleeve. "Would you do me, both of us, the kindness of your communal healing? Perhaps I was hasty in my action."

"To make things worse, if you remain here, you'll realize we had the freedom to walk through your prison here with Jadrenka's blessing. If you truly have no freedom here, and unless you were kidnapped, your life decisions were poor, at best."

Tsin finally listens to Malavarius, and takes to one of the doors to continue their departure, and possible luck in tripping across a cookbook before they leave this unholy place.

"And I told you I might have an idea where it would be before you tried to kill me," the woman spits back at Pems. "If you really aren't some trick of Jadrenka's, I think I will take my leave. I hope you rot here."

She begins -- very warily -- walked toward the door you opened earlier.

Tsin, you detect no evil.

"Well get gone then, woman. And don't hang out with any more covens...we'll kill you next time, witch lover."

Hektir watches her walk out. He spits, bored.

"Probably no cookbooks here, right?" Hektir is ready to leave....after the pokes around the chamber for magic and gold and loot.

1d20 + 20 ⇒ (10) + 20 = 30 Perception - valuables

"I hope you rot here."

"Yes, we intend on helplessly sitting here in this chamber, and pine for our slighting lover." Tsin snorts. "Hektir, please, see us forward."

She departs, watching you warily as she heads out the unlocked door -- her offer to tell you where you might be able to find the cookbook ignored in Tsin's zeal to murder her -- and Pems is again able (with some difficulty) to open the next door.

Your continue to explore the statue -- frustration growing -- until finally a long and winding stone staircase descends into a cavern whose walls support rough wooden shelves piled high with all manner of weird bric-a-brac: tiny sculptures, fetishes, amulets of metal and clay, locks of hair, pin-riddled cornhusk dolls, and more than a few weathered tomes.

Yellowed glass jars hold vile and suspect-looking samples suspended in unknown fluids, and small clay pots overflow with unknown dusts, powders, and sickly colored unguents. Beneath the shelves, a couple of crude worktables, covered in mysterious stains and clumps of aged tallow, hold more items of similar nature. A huge wooden mortar bound with iron bands stands near the tables, its club-sized pestle propped within. In the south side of the room, a ring of small stones surrounds a small fire that fills the entire room with the scent of pine.

The door to this chamber is 20 feet above the floor though a rickety wooden staircase leads down.

As you enter, a hulking blue-skinned giant sees you, eyes growing wider, while a young human woman heavy with child flinches back.

Pems, Mal and Tsin are up. Map will have to wait until I'm home, but you're about 65 feet away from them.

Also, since everyone's clearly done with this, I'm handwaving a bunch of encounters. Tsin and Hektir have each taken 15 hp damage, Quinn, 10; Mal, 7; and Pems, 6, as you've made your way here, though feel free to retcon in any healing you may have taken en route.

thanks Mott, retcon channel heal

Channel Heal: 5d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 6, 5, 4) = 24

Pems raises a hand. "Hello! We're pestle salesmen and boy are we having a bad day in this place! Seems like everybody's already got one. But maybe you need another?"

Round 1, Init 14

"Pems, haven't you learned already? That is another frost giant, and that is another damsel-in-distress. They will not engage with you with words..."

Tsin advances down the stairs, waving at the giant to avoid unwanted, opportunistic swings. Will Save, DC 14 to take an AoO

+1 Falchion, Power Attack: 1d20 + 14 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 14 - 2 = 32 for 2d4 + 10 + 6 ⇒ (3, 3) + 10 + 6 = 22 damage

Confirm Critical?: 1d20 + 14 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 14 - 2 = 27 for 2d4 + 10 + 6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 10 + 6 = 22 damage

"Your name is abomination. You are not long in this world."

Pems' warm greeting goes for naught as Tsin rushes forward down the ricket stairs, her blade slashing into the surprised giant.

"Well, jehosaphat, there she goes again, and before I even got a chance to ask them about my good hat!" Mal complains. "Bother! Doesn't she know, haste makes waste. Wait, that gives me an idea!"

And with that, the addled old kook casts, and you each fill speed fill your limbs. Mal casts haste.

The startled giant steps back and scooping up the cauldron throws it at Tsin, blood spraying as he moves 29 hp.

"Well, if that's how it's going to be..." the woman says.

"We already have a pestle, dear," she calls back to Pems, "but we now seem to be out a mortar."

A moment later, she disappears.

Party is up. (Also, I know I need to update S&S; plan to get to it later tonight.

Round 1, Init 14

"A cauldron?! You choose to heave a cauldron of all things!"

Tsin steps up, making sure to keep the giant within easy striking distance. "Already the pregnant wench has shown herself by disappearing." She yells to the air. "You keep company with frost giants, you will enjoy their fate." She passes judgment in words only on the witch, while she brings a swift strength to her blade to injure the giant more deeply. Swift Action-Bane(Humanoid)

+1 Falchion, Power Attack, Bane: 1d20 + 14 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 14 - 2 + 2 = 30
for 2d4 + 10 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 10 + 6 + (6, 3) = 27 damage

Iterative: 1d20 + 9 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 9 - 2 + 2 = 26
for 2d4 + 10 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 10 + 6 + (6, 6) = 34 damage

If Hasted... might have been a little hasty myself...

Haste Attack: 1d20 + 14 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 14 - 2 + 2 = 28
for 2d4 + 10 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 10 + 6 + (3, 3) = 26 damage

Round 1, Init 6

Hektir moves into combat slowly, trailing after the blurring Tsin. He runs up and tries to get a slice in.

1d20 + 14 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 14 + 2 + 1 = 30 to hit; (charge, haste)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 magic damage;

Appropriately auto-piloted, Mott! Well done and thank you! =)

Spellcraft (woman disappearing): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (12) + 18 = 30
If the woman vanished with invisibility of some sort, Malavarius will pop a glitterdust to try and reveal her. If she vanished via teleportation or similar magic, he'll instead cast shield upon himself.

Quinn blesses the party against their newest threat. "Strike down that heathen giant, Tsin, it's no better than the others!"

cast Bless

Pems sighs and throws an Evil Eye at the giant's AC Will Save DC 18! -4 to Ac for 1 round on a success, 7 rounds on a failure.

Hektir rushes in, suffering a brutal axe cut as he arrives 23 but returning the favor with a cut of his own you technically couldn't charge (so no AC penalty), but the haste gave you plenty of movement to close in.

Quinn's blessing falls on the party as Pems curses the giant and Mal intones his spell, glittering dust revealing the form of the woman -- who as Tsin suspected now no longer looks like a pregnant waif, but rather a hideous green-skinned crone.

As the giant is distracted momentarily by the spell, Tsin steps up, her blade going snicker-snack, and the monstrous creature falls to its knees, slowly toppling as its eyes widen at what you little folk have done to it.

The hag cackles -- "so new playthings to replace that old one, eh?" -- and reaches out to paw at Hektir. As often happens with women, her touch makes the tracksmage feel weak. DC 16 Fort save or take 4 Str damage

"Definitely not selling to you, crone!" Pems steps to the side to line up his shot and casts lightning bolt! Reflex save DC 17 for half! Electricity!: 8d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 6, 5, 5, 4, 6, 2) = 32 damage!

Round 2, Init 6

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25 Fort

Hektir maintains his feet after being clubbed and drained. He offers a spit in response.

"Good. Another witchywitch to kill!" Hektir seethes,his loins temper aflare after the bad touching by the witch. He returns the favor with strikes from his sword.

1d20 + 14 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 14 + 1 = 21 to hit;
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 magic damage.

Haste:
1d20 + 14 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 14 + 1 = 32 to hit;
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12 magic damage.

1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 9 + 1 = 24 to hit;
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 magic damage.

Round 2, Init 14

Knowledge(Nature) +13

Tsin shudders for a moment, then flicks her blade to remove giant blood, in order to make way for hag blood. "Mal, remind me to buy you something robust the next time we sit down to eat. My falchion has never felt better, likely due to your magics."

She sees Hektir getting touched, so decides to cautiously circle the creature to gain flank with the huntsman. She keys the blade into the hag's nature, and lets fly.

+1 Falchion, Flank, Precise Strike, Power Attack, Bane: 1d20 + 14 + 2 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 14 + 2 - 2 + 2 = 20
for 2d4 + 10 + 6 + 1d6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) + 10 + 6 + (1) + (5, 4) = 30 damage

Hektir and Tsin make quick work of the hag, leaving you free to explore the room.

While most of the curiosities and components in this room hold little use and even less value, there remain a few items of interest, which judicious applications of detect magic help ferret out.

The pestle radiates magic and you think it could function as a +1 greatclub.

The moldering tomes on the shelves deal with a variety of esoteric subjects but one radiates magic: The book is bound in dyed goatskin, and its coarse, thick pages are stained in a variety of colors and covered in wavering script; rough sketches; and diagrams of various plants, mystic symbols, and animal parts. A crude wooden spoon serves a bookmark.

Perception: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (13) + 17 = 30

"Hektir, look, a gift for your future bride." Quinn retrieves the broom from the back of the shelf. "With those cookbooks and that broom, you're looking at both good cooking and a clean home, I'll be visiting all the time!"

"With those cookbooks and that broom, you're looking at both good cooking and a clean home, I'll be visiting all the time!"

Hektir retrieves one of the cookbooks and begins to leaf through it, licking his fingers to move through the pages. He expects to see menus suitable 'for serving children' (sic).

"Might be that I like a clean house too, Quinn," Hektir says defensively, as if the man liked to live like a pig. "You seem to forget that I actually did my duty when it was my turn at KP, rather than just rubbing alcohol on the plates and calling them 'clean'."

Hektir takes the broom and examines it, giving it a few sweeps, then a few swipes like a sword.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16 Spellcraft

"My guess is that broom is some sort of bat in the chimney remover...one good swoof and the bats get gone so your cook fires can breathe properly."

Hektir spits and hands the broom back, going back to peruse the cookbooks for one about BBQs.