Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Round 3, Init 9

What knowledge check to identify the sprite?

Hektir curses again as the sprite's magic slams him repeatedly.

"Oh..you have got to be kidd...*dryhack*...me....*dryhack* *spit*", Hektir tries to say, but the sickness still overwhelms him.

He does grunt happily as Pems does some healing on him. "Thanks," Hektir spits into the wind and the wind returns the cold spittle to his pants, which Hektir ignores.

Hektir will carefully move another 5' and draw and don his shield.

Round 2, Init 5

Hektir's going to get himself killed, oh, good. He's pulled his shield.

She steadies her aim again, trying to emulate her younger sister.
Composite Longbow: 1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 - 4 = 16 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 damage

"Hektir! Did I hit?! I can barely see!"

Round 2

"Hang on, Hektir, we're on the way!" Quinn moves to the foot of the bridge, maintaining his grip on the rope.

(only 5' per round on the bridge without checks, regardless of land speed?)

Pemsworth heals Hektir of the worst of his wounds, as Malavarius sends another firework toward the small attacker, who again seems to nimbly avoid the worst of the blast, and pulls his wand.

Hektir pulls his shield as he continues to slowly advance while Quinn joins him on the bridge. Yes, only five feet, Quinn. And with the terrain, that's actually part of a move action, not a five-foot step.

Quinn's arrow actually seems to nick the small foe, but doesn't penetrate her tough hide. You didn't beat her AC, though you did beat the touch AC.

As her skin seems to heal from the fire, she breaths again, catching Hektir and Pems in the freezing cold blast of ice and snow. 2 hp cold damage plus sicked 3 rounds; DC 13 Reflex save for half and to negate the cold; Pems can get +4 for cover from Hektir.

Map

Pems Reflex: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26

"Blasted fey! If I never see another one of your wretched kind it'd be too soon!"

Scorching Ray: 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 2 - 4 = 6for: 4d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 3, 2) = 13 Still -4 to hit due to falling snow, right?

"Bah! This wand is broken! Zeno! Fetch me one that works, would you?"

Round 3

Quinn cautiously moves forward another 5 feet while draping the rope over his shoulder, then casts bless on the group before gripping the rope again. "Take Cayden's blessing, my friends, and bring fury on that tiny foe!"

Round 3, Init 9

"Oh yeah, Tsin...you were close! One more shot and you'll hit the pasty blue *hack!*..." Hektir is again over come by sickness when the creature breathes on him again.

1d20 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 - 2 = 8 Reflex Save

Hektir grunts as more sickness hits him but he pushes on now that the end of the bridge is in sight.

Hektir will move again, drawing his sword, and take total defense next to it.

Hold still, you blue s@*~, hold still....

C'mon Mal! Just need one good hit with that thing!

Round 3, Init 5

Tsin gets ready to throw her bow into the rapids below, then reconsiders as she sees Hektir retching. Poor dear. The perils of going first it seems. I'll have to remember that. She takes Hektir's cue from the near miss, and corrects herself ever so slightly for the ravine's updraft.

Composite Longbow: 1d20 + 4 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 4 - 4 + 1 = 19 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8 damage

"Thanks, Quinn! That casting seemed to steady my forearm a bit."

Don't forget the +1 from bless, Tsin!

Ah, you got me whilst I was editing :)

Malavarius may be old, but he's got eyes like a hawk! =P

nonsense! it was Zeno that spotted that, we all know it!

Ah true, but they are two sides of the same coin, birds of a feather, if they ever admit it ;)

I half-way suspect that each feels the other is the familiar =P

Pems manages to avoid the worst of the creature's snowy breath as Hektir catches the bulk of it, inching forward along with his bigger companion, who creeps foward with his shield raised.

Mal fires another blast from the wand, the snow -- or perhaps his vision dimming with age -- continuing to hamper him as he misses again.

Quinn brings down Cayden's blessing on the group, giving Tsin a chance to hit with her bow. The arrow tumbles the small creature back a way, though doesn't seem to hurt it as badly as you think it should, and it flies into the center of the creek, our of range of Hektir's blade.

She gestures, and Hektir's blade suddenly begins to grow even colder, his fingers number as they hold it! Fort save DC 14 vs. chill metal on the blade

Map

Round 4, Init 9

1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 5 - 2 = 13 Fort save

"You blasted little thing!! I'm going to treat you like I did your buddies!!" Hektir bangs his cold scimitar to his shield, pointing out the skin thereon.

Feeling his sword becoming chill, Hektir steps off the bridge and drops the chill sword in the snow. He draws his sling.

Round 4

Quinn continues to move slowly and safely across the bridge, gripping the rope with both hands.

Round 4, Init 5

"Please, Malavarius, step behind me when you're through." Tsin makes to shoo the old mage to cover, before she steps in front and attempts to pluck at the bowstring again. I jarred it! Even through the snows, it felt the touch of the arrow. That will be a story worth sharing with you, Orwyne.

Composite Longbow: 1d20 + 4 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 4 - 4 + 1 = 6 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 damage

Alright then. When the story is told, it will be two arrows, no more, before it fell to its death in the waters below. All while the boys clung to the side of the bridge, mouths agape at the sight of the feat. Ah, I miss you, sisters.

Malavarius shakes the wand a few times, offering it a quizzical look before shaking his head. "I think it's broken! I'm quite sure of it, really. Where did we get this useless device again? I'm afraid we've been bamboozled. Zeno, remind me later to have words with whomever sold this to us." Shaking his head further, he resorts to more reliable magics: his own. A moment later and another sparking, spinning likeness of Zeno bursts from his staff and crashes into the sprite.

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

Sorry, long weekend and sinus infection... Boo.

Pems watches the little thing fly over the water. He loads a sling bullet and fires!

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

Pems fires a bullet at the creature, but it sails past him, falling into the creek far below. Mal's magic is more effective as it lets out a screech of pain with the fiery burst in its face. "Stupid wizard. Do that again and I'll rip your eyeballs out and let them freeze in the snow before I eat them!" it hisses.

Hektir moves off the bridge, dropping his blade in the snow and drawing his sling as Quinn inches across and Tsin fires wildly once more, the snow continuing to spoil her aim.

The mephit suddenly dashes forward and slams its tiny body into Quinn, knocking the priest off balance and pushing him off the bridge, leaving him hanging from the rope!

"Hahahaha!" the creature laughs manaically as he sees the human swinging 45 feet up from the creek.

Map

Malavarius laughs jovially at the mephit's threat, "Ha hah! We'll I'm afraid you're going to have to rip out my eyeballs then, you frigid little imp! HAH!" Yet another screaming firework careens from the head of the wizard's staff and into the creature. He then turns and hustles back toward the lodge a short distance, "You'll have to catch me too!"

Move Action: direct 2nd firework into mephit
Move Action: move 15 feet toward lodge (and AWAY from the ravine)

aaaaand the actual firework that I forgot to include =\

Snapdragon Fireworks (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 4 + dazzled for 1 minute; Reflex Save DC 16 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Round 5, Init 5

Tsin breathes easier when she watches Malavarius retreat, only to draw in a quick hiss of her own as she watches the creature launch itself at Quinn. Only after watching the rope grow taut does she return to the task at hand.

Composite Longbow: 1d20 + 4 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 4 - 4 + 1 = 21 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 damage

Confirm Critical?: 1d20 + 4 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 4 - 4 + 1 = 4 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 damage, whimper

Round 5, Init 9

Hektir lets his shield fall to the ground, loading his sling.

With a twirl and a spit, Hektir sends a +1 cold iron stone at the sprite.

1d20 + 4 - 4 - 2 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 4 - 4 - 2 + 1 = 17 to hit (sickness, bless)
1d4 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 cold iron magic

Pems, hearing Quinn fall, runs over to the bridge and does his best to aid Quinn's climbing. Aid Another (climb): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13 Quinn adds +4 to his climb checks.

As Pems rushes to help Quinn, Mal blasts the sprite with another firework, while the adrenaline from the priest's precarious situation seems to give Hektir and Tsin more focus -- both find their mark with arrow and bullet.

The tiny winged attacker barely manages to dodge the worst of Mal's spell and shrugs off the arrow despite what seemed a perfect shot, but the bullet appears to be too much for it.

It spits as it flies away ahead of you, "Follow me and you'll find only your own doom, fools!"

In which direction does the sprite fly and can we get another shot off to take it down?

Pems suddenly is shocked to find himself clinging to the side of the ice-covered bridge, hanging quite securely over the open water. He recovers just enough to help haul Quinn up from mid air.

The creature flew west, looking to be perhaps a little more south than the route you're likely going to have to take, but probably toward the direction you're ultimately heading.

You can take a shot, but it's about 70 feet from you know and with the additional cover from the trees along with the precipitation, you probably have about a 5 percent change of hitting it (i.e. you'll need a natural 20).

Tsin puts her bow away, and attempts what little is left in bringing Quinn to his feet on the bridge. The retreating fey is enough to goad Tsin to cross the bridge herself, but not enough to rush it.

"You wicked little thing!! How dare you turn your back to us! Are all of you icy creatures cowards?!" Tsin only bellows when she's sure to meet solid ground on the other side of the bridge.

Hektir spits as the sprite flies away, slowly recovering from his sickened condition.

"And good riddance. Don't think you'll be getting away so easily next time," Hektir adds with a shake of his fist. Disappointed that the sprite got away, Hektir picks up his weapons and ties the lead rope securely to a tree.

"C'mon now...you all should be fine as long as you go slow and mind the ice. Use the rope too!" While others cross, Hektir will keep watch with shield and scimitar at the ready, mindful of what just happened.

When the party is across, Hektir will complain/brag mightily.

"You see that, Tsin? These magic bullets done make that sprite flee like a dragon himself were chasing it. And your arrow did almost nothing to it...you know that one that actually managed to hit it and not snow? Weird, huh? Them thing didn't like none fire either, huh, Mal?" Hektir spits. "I can't explain it. Except we should remember that if we meet it again."

Hektir picks at his wounds, only somewhat concerned.

HP: 16/22

When the party is ready, Hektir will continue to follow the tracks/trail.

"You mean 'when' we meet it again, don't you, Hektir? We're following it to our destination." Tsin squints after the fey.

"I'm loath to admit it, but you're also right that my arrows hardly pierce their hide. I'm a better meat shield than an archer in this blasted weather. Let's not give it too much time to make preparations for our arrival,"

Quinn blanches as the bridge slides away under him and he swings in the open above the frozen river. Clutching the rope, thankful for the anchors at either end and the helpful hand of Pemsworth, he scrambles back to the span and crosses the remaining distance with cautious alacrity. "Nasty business, this winter, crossing a bridge was never so life threatening. When we do catch those fey, I say we 'question' them a bit extra, just for our efforts in getting there." Though he puts on the usual jovial facade, it's several minutes before Quinn's breathing returns to a normal level after the bridge experience.

Malavarius teeters slowly across the bridge, shuffling his feet ever so slowly and never even daring to lift them off the bridge until he has fully crossed. As he steps onto solid ground again, he exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "By jove! Who is in charge of caring for this bridge?! That ice is terribly dangerous! Why, someone could easily be pushed right off by just the tiniest of shoves! Reckless endangerment, that's what this is! Zeno! Remind me once we get back to Heldren to have words with that soup-for-brains councilwoman! This is frightfully unacceptable!"
"Yeeees.... I'll certainly be sure to do that." From atop Malavarius' crumpled hat, it seems as if Zeno rolls his eyes before sharing a meaningful look with Flash.

Pemsworth does his best to help people across the bridge, as he seems to be the only one whose feet do not slip and slide. This development is not lost on him, as the bunny's cold nose poking him the back of the neck from its perch in his backpack reminds him. Between this and the sudden lack of cold in the air, he wonders exactly what is happening to him and why these powers have suddenly shown up, helpful though they are...

"Hektir, some healing?" Quinn offers, "If that blue beastie gets a few friends we may face some trouble ahead."

All of you safely across the bridge, Hektir sets out again. There really aren't any tracks anymore, due to the constantly falling snow; you're following the map in the lodge now.

After about half an hour of travel, you feel the hairs on your necks begin to rise. The forest stands deathly quiet, even the wind growing still as snow softly falls through the stark branches overhead.

Tracks, human in size but oddly misshapen, create a trail between the trees through otherwise unblemished snow.

Feel free to retcon in healing or anything else.

Hektir spits and looks at his wounds, the flesh deadened by the sprite's breath and the holes punched by its magic. Hektir reaches down and grabs some snow and rubs it on the missile wounds.

"Bah! This ain't nothing but a scratch. Pems here got me out of trouble." Hektir gives Pems a nod of thanks.

I'm okay with forgoing healing until after the next encounter if there is one before we rest again. Besides, the 'famous last words' thread needs more entries. But Hektir won't complain if you

* * *@Clearing* * *

Hektir spits again, a green glob against the white snow, a remnant from his earlier sickness.

"This ain't right," Hektir says, surveying the chill and calm.

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29 Perception

Hektir checks to see that his shield is still on his arm and his scimitar at his waist, before kneeling to inspect the tracks.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12 Know (Nature)
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25 Prof (Trapper)
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 Prof (Woodsman)
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26 Survival

Tsin stands nearby, scanning the woods for signs of life, or unlife for that matter.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18

Watching Hektir turn bloodhound, Tsin tries to support him in his efforts. "Why has it stopped? Hektir?"
Survival, Aid Another: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Quinn continues to stay alert, expecting the blue beastie to attack again.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15

"Beware their traps, the chest hid the spiked log before, the tracks may be a similar ruse." assisting along with Tsin, Quinn also attempts to help Hektir.

Aid Another, Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

You think Tsin may have the right of it -- the tracks appear human but the gait seems all wrong. If whatever is making them is in fact no longer alive -- some sort of animated skeleton or zombie -- it would explain the oddness.

"Pfft. Undead maybe. They'll fall to our steel much like the ones in the lodge did. If they are still here. Pems, Quinn, Mal, you stay here, watching. All of you, get ready to bail me out," Hektir spits, draws his scimitar and enters the clearing.

Move 15' in, pause. 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15 Perception
Move 25' in, pause. 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 Perception

Pems shakes his head, knowing all too well the touch of the dead cold that the skeletons exuded before. He draws his sling, loads it and slips into the edge of the clearing, staying hidden.

Stealth: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14

Seeing Hektir produce his steel, Tsin follows suit. She looks down at her blade, a trifle disappointed that her weaponry may prove less effective than is necessary to bring things to an end quickly.

Not ready to rush in, she allows Hektir to prod for trouble in the lead. She doesn't allow him to gain a lead, however.

"Why, here of all places, would the forces choose to quiet down? I feel like we're being hunted."

"'Why of all places' is right, Tsin, Heldren is a back water nothing, with no prospect of being something, and that's what I like about it! Why should anything want to invade this space of all places? Something ain't right with the cosmos if even the hunting lodge outside Heldren isn't safe from blue skinned monstrosity invasion! This is more than Heldren, more than us, this is something epic, I fear, my friends!" Ever the wannabe thespian, Quinn hams it up for his companions.

"Something 'epic', you say? Hmmm. Hmmm. I'm not sure I know what you mean there, Quinn. While it is bafflingly odd that winter should visit us so far to the south, I'm sure it's nothing of any world-shaking importance." He trails off into quiet, senseless mutterings before he's heard again, this time poking the brim of his hat with his staff. "Zeno? Zeno! What do you make of all this, hmm? Fool children and their imaginations. Nothing quite as wild or as maddening as an imagination, am I right?"
"Well, for once I agree with you, you wrinkled old bat."
"Wrinkled old bat?! HA! Zeno! Zeno, my boy, that was a good one! Ha! You should write that down. Hehe. Wrinkled old bat, he said. Ha!" Malavarius chews over the insult for a few more moments before he tugs thoughtfully on his beard, "I say, why have we stopped? Not that I don't enjoy the unexpected peace and quiet, mind you, but we have places to go for reasons I don't recall, after all. I'm a very old man, if you young fools hadn't noticed. I don't have time to be standing around in the falling snow discussing how I don't have time to stand around in the falling snow. Vim! Vigor! Best we use them while we have them, eh?"

As Hektir enters the clearing, three skeletons -- their bleached bones hard to see in the white snow -- suddenly emerge from the far side, moving quickly toward the tracksmage. They're 15 feet away from him; 30 feet from everyone else.

Everyone but Mal can go in Round 1; Mal will lead off Round 2 after the skeletons go.

One. Two. Three. Three skeletons. Cold 'uns, too.

"Welcome to your second deaths," Hektir spits and ponders his attack.

Will delay until after Pems gets a shot off, not wanting to offer neither cover nor in-combat penalties to the halfling.