Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Hektir walks though the shop, not seeing anything of interest.

I need a strong wife, not baubles.

"You know, Pems? I thought I might buy something, but, I don't think I need anything more just yet." Hektir pats the pair of alchemist's fires he just recovered.

Hektir is saving his monies for now.

Tsin nods to Hektir and Pems as she enters the shop, her brow still sweaty from the midday's work.

"Between here and the smithy's, I was meaning to pick up some arrows for the new bow acquired. The farmer's bow, isn't that right? Have we passed on that information yet, that he's dead?"

Tsin browses the shop's several selections of tea. She settles on a nice toasted rice tea, likely imported, hard to come by in the lesser regions of the land.

She also inquires with the shopkeeper regarding some leather work, to create a double sheath for a pair of falchions.

I think Tsin will keep a back-up falchion from one of the skeletons. They seem hard to come by so far.

She nods her departure, focused on returning to work.

The falchions are not in good condition, Tsin [ooc]they're considered broken. You could probably ask Isker Euphram, Heldren's blacksmith, to fix it, though.

Lady Argentea is pleased as she hears your plans to continue to investigate when she comes to thank you for rescuing her. "I understand such kidnappings are a part of politics, of course, but there was something more going on with my capture. I'd like to find out who was behind it if it wasn't truly that bandit."

Councilor Teppen also seems pleased, as the snow in summer is of a great concern. The fact that Dansby ended up dead has her even more worried.

Any further preparations before you leave? If not, back to the snow.

We can fix the falchions, via mending. RP it up there Tsin so we know and we'll fix 'em.

Hektir is ready to go.

Ah, ok. Broken blades must be brought back.

Tsin looks over the items to be sold, and pulls one of the blades from the pile. "A shame it's broken. I could use a spare blade. Perhaps Isker could do something with this one." Tsin rolls the blade back and forth.

Quinn strides back from the pee tree, aka Hektir's campsite, now only bursting with exuberance for the upcoming journey. "I'm ready, let's begin this quest!"

Hektir packs up and readies to leave.

"I hope we can make this quick. I want to get back soon..."...before all the good wives are taken.

Pemsworth will offer the use of his home and business to Ten Penny before he goes, 'just until I get back!' he adds! However, he is ready to go as well.

Malavarius remains in his ramshackle home on the outskirts of town, oblivious to any plans to do anything with his nose happily buried in his studies.

Tsin looks over the items to be sold, and pulls one of the blades from the pile. "A shame it's broken. I could use a spare blade. Perhaps Isker could do something with this one." Tsin rolls the blade back and forth.

"What was that, Tsin?" Hektir stops backing to stare at the butcher and request the broken blade in his hands. "Aw...no...don't give it Isker, he's nothing but a beater of metal. Give it here and gimme a few days...I'll fix that sword something straight. You'll see, she'll be like new. You might want to buy a whetstone, though, tough to find them right rocks for that in passing."

"Umm, did anyone think to ask Malavarius to join us? I can't help but notice he's not here!" Quickly realizing that the wizard was forgotten in the rush, Pemsworth heads over to the old man's house.

Knocking loudly on the door, Pems calls out, "Mr King? Zeno? Anyone? Is anyone home?"

"You're truly the gentleman, Hektir."and spitter Tsin leaves the broken blade in the tracker's care. Tsin takes note of his recommendation, and stops in again at the shop to pick up the much needed whetstone. You'd think they'd include that in the Fighter's Kit... alas...

Tsin continues to work off the chill in the butcher's shop. She can't fight off the chill that creeps into her dreams, however.

"Hm? Who's that then? Zeno! Zeno? Would you be so kind as to see who is at the door interrupting my very important research? Zeno? Blast it all, you feathered fat-head, you're never around when I need you!" Malavarius rises from his desk and walks over to the door, the rapping of his staff on the floor preceding him. The door opens a crack and Malavarius peers through with one wide eyeball, his words muted slightly by the door and beard. "Hmmm? And what do you want little boy? I'm very busy for an old man, don't you know. Well? Come on then, out with it!"

Pemsworth sighs. "Malavarius? It's me, Pemsworth. You know, one of the companions who sought the missing noblewoman with you? Well, it's that... it's this, you see. We're a bit unnerved by the fact that we didn't find the culprit behind everything, you see and we'd like to head back out and see if we can bring the mastermind to justice. And we'd like you and Zeno to join us. Will you come?"

"Pemsworth? Ah, Pemsworth!" The door opens fully then and Malavarius waves the halfling inside. "Pemsworth, lad. Hardly recognized you without all the blood and cuts and abbrasions and what not. Zeno? Zeno! We have company, you flying fop!" He pauses for a moment, scratching his beard as he looks around in plain bewilderment. After a few long moments he offers, "Do you know, I think I only have the one chair. Hm. Interesting." He waves his hand dismissively then spins back around on Pemsworth, "Now what's all this about heads and minds and Zeno?"

"Well sir, being that the Lady Argentea is safe, but we haven't found the person who ordered her captured, we thought we'd head back out and see if that person could be found. And captured, as it were! Will you come with us? Your great magic would be extremely helpful!"

Hektir gently pushes his way into Mal's home, looking around as he does.

"C'mon you old coot. We have work to do...you drug yourself along last time and we might have need of you again. Might be that you can use this in case we face more ice monsters," Hektir hands over the Wand of Scorching Rays.

"Now, pack your gear so we can get this over with. I got plans for next week."

Zeno raises a lazy wing from a cluttered nest above the fire place, almost as if to say, "Yes, yes. We will be along shortly, hither, and anon." Malavarius, however, stands up straight with a start. "You know, you're most certainly right, young master Smith." The old wizard begins rolling scrolls up into tubes and packing various items. He picks up a lantern, then looks at it twice and sets it back on the overladen shelf he plucked it from. Zeno's head pops up over the side of his nest, "Wait, what? We're going back into the blustery blizzard-like strangeness? Have you finally lost the last of your wits?"
"Oh hush, you! Pemsworth here is right. There was an interesting map back at the Sentinel's lodge if you recall. I should have brought it with me for further study. Oh bother. Perhaps we can go back? No matter, I'm a very old man and I've not the time to sit around waiting for someone else to fix the seasons." He then bangs his staff on the side of a cast iron pot hanging in the fireplace and points at it sternly, "And you'd best behave while I'm gone! No funny business, you hear me?" In a dizzying swirl of motion, Malavarius hoists his belongings over his shoulder and sweeps out the door, "Well? What are you waiting for, Pemsworth? I thought this was your idea, wasn't it? Don't just stand there gawking, move those youthful feet, lad!" He then leans in and in a conspiratorial tone adds, "And perhaps we can finally find out what that Hektir did with my good hat!"

Pemsworth sighs and picks up his bag as well. "Aye sir!" He rushes to catch up with Malavarius as Flash, the white rabbit, races out of the show to leap into Pems' bag.

Malavarius strides with a determined pace straight out of town and in the entirely wrong direction. He pauses after a moment, looks around, then turns to Pemsworth, "Where is it we're going again and how do we get there from here?"

Ready to resume your journey, you head south once again, making for Lady Argentea's carriage -- now covered with snow -- and then back into the ever-widening blizzard. Once again, entering the heavy snowfall, most of you find it very difficult to move through the high drifts -- though Pems seemingly has no problem -- and see through the falling flakes, not to mention the bitter cold, though your magics mostly protect you from that. Please make sure you note if you've used magic for protection spells, though I think at least Pems and Tsin are fine due to class/gear benefits.

You begin making your way back to the lodge, making good progress. However, as you go to cross back over the Wishbone Creek small arrows suddenly fly out of the woods ahead, one hitting Hektir and two hitting poor Pems. 1 hp per arrow, plus please DC 11 Fort save or be staggered 1 round

You can barely make out on the other side of the creek, three vaguely familiar small blue winged humanoids.

Map

OK, full round actions from Hektir and Quinn, please, then I'll have the antagonists go, then we'll do a full Round 2. There's a grid on the map, so please be specific about where you step. Remember, half speed (no five-foot steps) and -4 on ranged weapons and Perception checks due to the snow.

Malavarius has Cold Resist 5. Does he also need Endure Elements or no? If he doesn't need it, replace the endure elements below with alarm.

Round 1

"Little spritely beasts, flee now before we make you into chicken wings for dinner!" Quinn unleashes a bolt at the tiny antagonists.

Light crossbow +4: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Dmg: 1d8 ⇒ 6

Looking it over more, I was ignoring it before, but I think technically, you'll need to keep making Fort saves or risk suffering 1d6 non-lethal cold damage. Now you've got a good chance obviously of not suffering any harm, but it's not 100 percent.

omitted the -4 due to snow, so that attack would be a 12 rather than a 16

Pemsworth, having learned the value of not getting too far ahead in combat situations, loads his sling with a cold iron bullet and fires at the nearest fey! Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5 If I'm staggered, then his move this round will be loading the sling and he'll use this attack next round!

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Damage: 1d3 ⇒ 3

DM, due to Pems' familiar, he now has a +8 to initiative.

HP: 16/17

Hektir has been casting Endure Elements daily. He has two lvl 1 slots available: Ice Armor and Produce Flame.

Round 1, Init 14

Hektir grunts as the droghte of March hath perced to his roote.

"OUCH! Who is shooting at me!?" Hektir reacts angrily.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13 Fort Save

Hektir will holster is shield and draw his sling.

Hektir grabs his sling as Quinn shoots wildly into the snow.

Before anyone else can react, the sprites shoot again, this time hitting Mal 1 hp, DC 11 Fort save or be staggered 1 round. Two more arrows hit Tsin, though neither is able to penetrate her amor.

Also, a pure white stag charges out from behind the trees, rushing over the ice toward Tsin, but like the arrows, its antlers are unable to penetrate the woman's armor.

ROUND 2:
Pems will fire at the Sprites! He will then reload and aim again!

Round 2, Init 14

"Ah crud! You guys again?!" Hektir bellows looking at the stag. "Why are you attacking us for? We were friendly last time!?"

Grumbling at being caught between maneuvers, Hektir will drop the sling and move up to 30'(3 squares) to engage the stag with Tsin (drawing his scimitar as he moves).

Not sure from what square Tsin is being attacked but Hektri should reach the stag, avoiding any river square.

1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21 to hit;
1d6 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6 damage.

Edit: Not sure why, but Hektir assumes this is the same stag. Is it?

Round 2, Init 10

Tsin closes her mouth from its gape, draws her blade, and tries to gore the white stag. "What?! Is it the cloak that offends you??"
Falchion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 = 11 damage (+2 to hit, should the Spitter Gent provide flank)

Perception to recognize if this is the same stag seen before: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Tsin can't help but study and admire the musculature that almost ran her through. Lean, but we'll tenderize you first.

Round 2

Quinn curses and loads his crossbow for a second shot at the tiny archers.

Light crossbow +4, -4: 1d20 ⇒ 19
Dmg: 1d8 ⇒ 4

crit confim +4, -4: 1d20 ⇒ 1

Fortitude: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (7) + 0 = 7
"Urk! Frosty little spriggans! That stings!"
The old wizards gestures haltingly, then leans on his staff to catch his breath. Meanwhile, a bright light suddenly explodes in front of the sprite that shot him.

Standard Action: flare @ sprite that shot him, Fort Save DC 15 or dazzled for 1 minute

Tsin's blade slams into the white stag, sending crimson blood splashing over its ivory coat. Before it can react, Hektir steps up and slashes the creature again, causing it to fall to its knees as it slowly collapses into the snow.

As the creature collapses, you hear a high-pitched voice -- familiar from your talk with the stag, though you can't tell for sure if it's the same one -- scream "NO!, though you can't see what's speaking. Suddenly, Tsin's blade seems to twist in her hand and begins shrinking, until it's no bigger than her finger!

The sprite blinks back tears as Mal's spell bursts in his face, but he must have had his eyes closed, as he doesn't seem to be too affected, and pulls back his bow to fire again.

Quinn and Pem's bolt and bullet hit home, sending two of the other sprites spiraling briefly through the air before they're able to regain control of their flight enough to use their bows again.

One of the arrows hits Hektir 1 hp, DC 11 Fort save or be staggered 1 round, but the other two bounce of his and Tsin's armor.

Map

Pemsworth moves to G-11 and unleashes another cold iron bullet at the sprites.

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Damage: 1d3 ⇒ 1

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25
Malavarius draws himself up to his full height and points his staff at the same sprite. After an arcane invocation, a familiar, sparking effigy of Zeno blasts from the end of the staff and zips erratically through the air before exploding upon the sprite. "Ah HA! See how you like being shot at, you devilish fey!"

Snapdragon Firework (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 3 + dazzled; Reflex Save DC 16 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Standard Action: cast snapdragon fireworks
Move Action: direct spell to detonate on same sprite

Round 3

"Ha, little beasts, we told you to surrender, now is your last chance!" Quinn punctuates his smarmy remark with another bolt from his crossbow.

Light crossbow +4, -4: 1d20 ⇒ 8
Dmg: 1d8 ⇒ 1

Round 3, Init 14

Hektir grunts as he gets hit with yet another arrow.

"SonuvaGhast! Someone get them archers off of me!" Hektir roars with irritation, quickly drawing the barb from his flesh.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13 Fort Save

Fighting off a chill to his bones, Hektir will sheathe his scimitar, then holster his shield as he moves back to where he dropped his sling.

"Looks like I'll have to do it myself," Hektir says with a spit.

Round 3, Init 10

"That did NOT just happen!!" Tsin looks down at her fey sword in disbelief.

Tsin stamps her foot down hard, glances briefly at the footprint, and drops her toothpick into the print, before stamping her foot down to keep its place. She is unable to get a grip, before she grips tight the leather of the bow, and flails to fly an arrow true.

Composite Longbow: 1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 - 4 = 6 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 damage

As Hektir recovers his sling, Tsin drops her sword, which suddenly resumes its full size as it hits the ground. Her muscles carrying her through her plans before she realizes what happens, she snaps off an arrow into the snow, the shaft flying wildly into the storm.

Pems' and Quinn's attacks similarly fly wide, though Mal's spell has more success. The pixie cries out in pain as the flaming Zeno bursts in its face.

The three sprites again shoot arrows at Tsin and Hektir in the front, one of them getting through the trackmage's armor 1 hp, DC 11 Fort save or be staggered 1 round.

Tsin's armor keeps the arrows from hitting her flesh, but despite it, she suddenly feels a cold stab in her neck, a small fey held aloft by dragonfly wings -- similar to the sprites in coloring, but clearly some other sort of creature -- appears next to her, its tiny rapier now dripping with her blood. 5 hp, Fort save DC 11 or be staggered 1 round

It snarls in some foreign language, though the tone of its voice makes clear the meaning even for those who don't understand it: "Fhaigheann tú bás sceith rathú-olc de mhoncaí!"

Round 4

"Mal, step back and let me at that chattering moth!" Quinn drops his crossbow and draws his rapier while stepping forward to skewer the newly appeared beast and provide flanking for Tsin.

Rapier +2: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Dmg: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

crit confirm: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Dmg: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Round 4, Init 14

Hektir spits again as another arrow finds another hole in his armor.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25 Fort save

Hektir picks up his sling and loads it. Move, move, done.

Pemsworth drops his sling and draws his shortsword, moving to flank one of the flying sprites with Tsin or Quinn!

Round 4, Init 10

Fortitude v DC 11: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Tsin feels the blade expand under her foot, shortly before she feels another blade tip her neck. Fuming, Tsin reaches down for her familiar... weapon, and tries to ring the winged imp's bell. "The stag couldn't talk after all. It was you, riding it, invisibly, is that right? It was your pet? Please tell me it was your pet."

Falchion, flank: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 2 = 14 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 6 = 12 damage

Pems, the sprites are still on the other side of the creek. There's one new fey (not on a map, as I'm at work) in melee with Tsin).

I'll flank on the new one then!

Unbidden, another firework explodes from the end of Malavarius' staff. With an arcane gesture from the wizard, the second sparking likeness of Zeno careens through the air and explodes on a different one of the distant trio. Malavarius then tries to hobble the last of the far-off fey with by conjuring another bright burst of light in its frosty face.

"Blasted little imps! We don't like being peppered with your tiny, little fey arrows!"

Snapdragon Fireworks (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 2 + dazzled for 1 minute; Reflex Save DC 16 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Move Action: direct 2nd firework @ Sprite 2
Standard Action: flare @ Sprite 3, Fort Save DC 15 or dazzled for 1 minute

As Tsin leans down to grab her sword, the small fey takes the opening to stab her again, this time its small blade penetrating her ribs, the blow chilling her more than hurting. 2 hp, but staggered this round, so can't act after picking up her blade

Pems moves forward opposite Tsin, the snow not hampering him, as Hektir retreats, picking up and loading his sling.

Quinn also dashes forward, his rapier slapping down through the little fey, cutting it nearly in half as it crumples into a broken heap in the snow. You guys get some impressive crits...

The three archers let loose again, one hitting Quinn right in the chest, while another hits Tsin in the face, both humans again feeling the bitter cold of their enemies. 1 hp to Quinn, 3 to Tsin, Fort save DC 11 or be staggered 1 round

Pems harries the sprite, attempting to allow Tsin a better shot at him!
Aid Another, with flanking!: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

BUGGER! Oh well, at least Tsin cna flank him to death!

@Pemsworth: the sprite on this side is dead - Quinn killed it. The three remaining sprites are on the far side of the frozen creek.

"Blasted little blue devils! " Malavarius begins patting his chest and belt pouches before his eyes light up with recognition. He produces the slender wand from within one of his sleeves and points it at Sprite #: 1d3 ⇒ 2. With a quick gesture, he jabs the wand forward and exclaims, "Piddle...SPOT!" A beam of fire leaps from the wand and lances through the air toward the distant fey.

Scorching Ray (ranged touch attack): 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 2 - 4 = 11for: 4d6 ⇒ (1, 5, 4, 3) = 13