Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Much faster today!

Pems heals Quinn as he feints at his foes, forcing them back enough that he can retreat to deal with his wounds.

On the other side of the room, Hektir and Tsin efficiently dispatch the two guards attacking them, their blows leaving the two men no more than bloody messes on the floor.

Mal's blast catches one of the remaining two guards unaware and the burst of fire seems to be too much for him. Face blackened, he falls. The last guard, hurt and looking desperate, leaps toward the wizard, his sword cutting deep into Mal's side. 8 hp

In the back of the room, Emil hesitantly hefts a large crossbow, directing it toward the melee, though he seems more concerned about defending himself after hearing his name than joining the fight.

"Malavarius!" Pems darts toward the wizard and lays a hand on him, channeling the healing power. 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 healing!

Top of Round 5 / Bottom of 4
"Auugh! Get BACK!" Malavarius takes a step away from the man, and after a short incantation, a blast of water jets from the tip of his outstretched staff, pushing the soldier back into the near reach of Tsin and Hektir.

Hydraulic Push (Bull Rush): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 vs CMD; Success = pushed back 5ft +5ft for every 5 by which his CMD is exceeded.

Round 5, Init 20

Tsin spars with the final guard, intent on having the soldiers down so she can concentrate on the more important matter at hand. "Pems, would you be so kind as to inform Emil that he needs to lower his weapon. He knows he's in trouble, and he's only making it worse."

If Hektir hasn't already brought the man low, Tsin does her best to do so.
Falchion: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 7 + 2 = 21 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (2, 4) + 6 = 12 damage

Should the guard fall, Tsin turns her attention full on Emil, blade dripping from the guard's blood. She waves him to move forward.

Round 5, init 19

Quinn waits for Tsin to dispatch the last guard, then he moves away from the guard corpses as best he can and channels healing energy for the party, still selecting to exclude Sertane and two of the less dead looking guards from the healing burst.

channel heal: 2d6 ⇒ (6, 5) = 11

Pems gulps at the tone in Tsin's voice... "Emil, du bør sette det armbrøst ned. Vi vet om spell og te og Tsin er allerede ikke er fornøyd med deg. Hvis du gjøre henne noe sintere, vil denne Inn ikke har en eier for veldig mye lenger. Senk våpenet og la oss snakke. Du kan fortsatt gå bort fra dette i live."

Tsin shudders, as the viscera closes around her vital organs. "Wonderful, Quinn." HP 32/32 She is still looking at Emil, however, as the relieved smile passes across her lips.

Round 5, Init 24

Hektir 5' steps to flank with Tsin or Quinn and swings again.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 damage.

"C'mon, Emil. The jig is up."

Do they even have jigs up here? I bet they call them something different. Like 'snow-ups' or 'frost-slip-falls-ow-my-backs'?

Hektir and Tsin efficiently down the last of the guards, leaving just the five of you and the two tavernkeepers in the White Weasel.

The pair huddle in the back, crossbow raised.

"Rygg, monstre deg!" Katrina says, her voice shaking.

"Stay back, you monsters"!

No need to have used your spell, Mal.

Tsin remembers herself, and the Judgment shifts. Swift action to change from Healing back to Purity, +1 on Saves

"Time to be weighed, Emil. You sent me to my death out in the cold with your poison draught, clouding my mind to abandon this village. Your hands poured the tea, so you'll lose them. Come forth. If I have to retrieve you, and you stick me with that crossbow, you admit your guilt, and you forfeit your life."

Tsin waits, but not long. If Emil doesn't stand and walk forward, after translations hopefully, Tsin moves towards the back, preparing to drag him to the butcher's block, whatever table that may be.

"Careful, Katrina, we'll not hurt you if you don't attack us. These men", Quinn indicates the dead guards, " steal children and we're putting a stop to that. Our apologies for the mess in your tavern."

Quinn moves to secure the strange object from the dead hands of Sertane, afraid of the damage it may potentially cause. probably another one of those exploding things, like the trap in the snow. After securing and passing the strange object to Mal with the greatest of care for his magical investigation, Quinn checks through the rest of the bodies.

take 10 on the search for a 22 perception?

Hektir moves up and stands next to Tsin.

"Now look here," Hektir points his scimitar at the dead soldiery and then to Emil, he spits. "We didn't ask for trouble, your trouble came to us. Now, lower that crossbow and we can talk things through. Maybe you'll keep those hands, too."

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13 Diplomacy/Intimidate

Hektir gives Tsin the 'lower-your-dang-blade' look.

At the translation, Katrina spits. "Ha! We were just trying to prevent exactly what you've done. Look around you. The witches will destroy Waldsby, and all because of you, strangers! Leave now before the whole village runs you out!"

Quinn, the object seems to be a small mirror in a leather flap. More details later, but we seem to be somewhat in initiative. Tsin, I'm going to rule combat's ended, and thus your judgment. The Goltievas weren't fighting with the soldiers.

"You damn fool woman! We COULD have prevented this, if you and your damn fool husband hadn't interfered! But no, you had to send poor Tsin nearly naked into the cold! Fool of a woman. It's not the witches you ought to fear, it's US!" Pems reacts with uncharacteristic fury, his eyes flashing and a cold breeze erupting around him as the air drops several degrees. Flash's head pops free of the backpack, his eyes the same sudden cold blue of Pems'.

"Hvis hun gikk ut nesten naken, det er hennes feil, dere sør dårer. Hva jeg fortalte henne var for egen skyld, samt Waldsby tallet. Trenger du ikke tenke heksene vil komme til deg etter at de har jobbet med oss ​​for hva du har gjort her?"

Desperation tinges her voice, evident even for those of you who don't speak Skald.

Malavarius and Zeno exchange worried looks with one another in the wake of Pemsworth's sudden display of temper, then the old man works his way into the middle of the room, standing halfway between his companions and the innkeepers, his staff thunking on the floor eerily in the tense air.

He nods to Emil and his wife sadly, then turns to his companions, "This is what the witches do. This is how they win. They don't even need to send their soldiers now; if the conflict between us and the frightened, desperate residents of Waldsby escalates any further, we'll all be doing the witches work for them." His shining blue eyes meet and hold Tsin's, sadness and empathy clearly evident in his gaze. "My dear, what was done to you is unfortunate." His eyes move over to hold Quinn's, "But, my lad, what you did to that Sir Tane a few moments ago was only a half-step different."

He takes a deep and tired breath, his years suddenly hanging heavily on his normally aloof countenance. "I think we've made things difficult enough for these people, don't you? Let's be on our way to the Pale Tower and free these people quick as we might. There's mess enough for these humble innkeepers to clean up now. Let's leave them to it, shall we?"

Tsin lowers her blade half-way to Hektir's gaze, then half-way to Mal's. She walks away from the confrontation, and examines the guards' bodies. In a violent blur, she brings her blade up, then downwards, loping a hand off. She proceeds to kick it across the floor.

"We could leave a couple of villager bodies amongst these, make it look like outsiders did the foul work..." It's clear that she speaks to no one but herself.

She moves to the other side of the same body, and takes off the other hand. She kicks it in the opposite direction.

"Make the village look blameless, like burning down a tavern..." She sounds not at all committed to the idea.

She returns to Hektir's side, and nods at Mal.

Pems' eyes narrow and calls back in Skald, his voice deeper and stranger than it ever seemed before. "Fool! Fear me, for I am here and the witches yet cower away. Do you not understand who we are? We are the Hand of Baba Yaga, the harbingers of the doom of the witches. Cower and quake, child, for we are going to the witches now, to visit our wrath upon them for their insolence! Do you not see their fates in the blood of those fallen here? Do you not hear the lamentation of their doom in the cries of the dying? Mark this moment, wretched child! Mark it, for when they tell this tale, you will say 'Yes, I saw and did not comprehend, yes I heard and did not heed!' Doom walks in the snow tonight and it wears not the cloak of the witch. It wears the fires of summer and all ice must melt before it!"

Suddenly Pems seems to deflate and his and Flash's eyes go back to normal.

"What? What just happened?"

Hektir stares at the halfling, his jaw dropped.

Tsin starts at the change in Pems's demeanor. Her gaze shifts to Katrina, but as Pems continues to talk, she turns to face him instead. What exactly did the knight do to him?! She tries to match his sternness in her facial expression.

Quinn keeps Hektir between himself and the fearsome rabbit master, eyes darting everywhere as he looks for gnashing teeth and a blur of white fur.

No, that was an awesome speech, Pems. Very nice!

The two blanch and Emil lets the point of the crossbow fall as they stare nervously at the halfling.

A pregnant silence fills the tavern, which seems colder all of a sudden.

Pems just stands there, shivering slightly, feeling the cold for the first time since his near death experience. Seeing Emil and Katrina's faces, he gulps loudly and turns to Mal. "Was it something I said?" He half-smiles, then pales when he sees the faces of his friends.

Malavarius looks at Pemsworth with kind, concerned eyes, "Oh, yes, my lad, I think it might have a little something to do with what you said. We can talk about such things on our way to the tower, though." He pats the halfling on the shoulder reassuringly then turns him gently to the door, gesturing for the others to follow. He glances back to the innkeepers behind the bar, "We never wished to cause you fine folks any trouble. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I hope you'll take an old man at his word." He smiles wearily then turns back to his companions. "Come now. Let's be off. We'll only make more trouble for them and for ourselves the longer we tarry."

Assuming Quinn does finish his search...

Each of the five guards has a potion of endure elements, chain shirt, light steel shield, cold iron longsword, dagger, light crossbow with 10 bolts, cold-weather outfit and 15 gp.

Sertane has two potions of cure light wounds, a potion of endure elements, an unmarked potion, chain shirt, spiked light steel shield, dagger, masterwork cold iron longsword, masterwork light crossbow with 12 bolts, two of which have a small ribbon tied around them, cold-weather outfit, 24 gp and the small mirror Quinn already took.

Heading back to Nadya's?

Tsin walks up to the bar, grabs a wiping cloth, and proceeds to slick off the blood of her blade, dropping the rag back onto the bar. She gives her own version of 'evil eye' to both Emil and Katrina, before exiting the Weasel.

"They welcomed the trouble. Now they have it. Trouble is never in short supply. There is plenty to go around now." Tsin trudges back to Nadya's when the boys are ready.

Pems, being distracted by his sudden possession, will head back to Nadya's place, then push for us to leave for the Tower immediately.

Nadya looks relieved at your return.

"What happened?" she asks.

Sorry, a little retro-RP for the Inn before moving to Nadya's.

Hektir spits and regards Emil and Katrina, not quite willing to let them off the hook just yet. But Tsin's handchopping and Pem's oddness struck something in Hektir.

Somewhat bamboozled, Hektir walks to the bar and takes a bottle of booze, fishing out one of the recently dead guard's coin to pay for it.

"Well, there you have it. The halfling has spoken, the Butcher has butched. You mess with us again and we'll be back."

Hektir will help Quinn gather the gear and coin on his way out of the Inn.

"Pems, Mal...don't we still need to buy supplies? Them alchy fires? We're going to want them."

Were Alchemist Fires available at Verana's Sundries? If so, Hektir will go buy some.

* * *
Hektir enters Nadya's place, still bloodied from his efforts in the Inn, but in a good manly mood.

Chicks dig manly men.

Hektir ignores his bloody clothess, focusing instead on the battle and thoughts about how quickly they can save Nadya's child.

"...and so, yeah...we're still not sure how to actually get *into* the fortress, but maybe we'll figure that out as we go. Maybe we can go scout the place with the rest of today, then head in on the morrow? I'm going to need some medical attention," Hektir says while admiring the sword cut on his clothes.

Edited for Quinn's channel that I missed.

Hektir, Quinn's channel heal was for 11, did you get that added?

"It is a guarded tower, I don't think a back door will be likely. Either we learn to fly in the next few hours, or we need to figure a way through that front gate. The dead guard outfits are the best idea I have, anyone else?"

Tsin turns to Nadya as they enter her house once more. "We quickly dispatched the unit camping in the Weasel. Emil and Katrina admitted their guilt in trying to force us from the village. We intend to head to the Tower, but we may need items first to make sure we are prepared for what is to come. Have you been to the Tower yourself? How do we act when we play at being guards on return?"

"The outfits, yes. Are we considering some of us as escorts, and others as escorted?"

"I'll never be believed as a guard. Maybe as a human child?" Pems looks thoughtful.

"You want us to pretend to be guards, Tsin? Well, all we need to do is pretend to be really bad fighters and die easily. HawhawHAW!" Hektir pretends to be a guard getting cleaved by the Butcher of Hedrin.

"I'll be hard for me to pretend to be that bad, but I'm sure others will fit in just fine," Hektir sends a smirk-wink at Quinn.

"I say we dress up like guards and go check out the Tower. Youneverknow what we'll find. Unless someone knows of a way in, huh?"

Nadya pales a little at Tsin's retelling. "You didn't hurt Emil and Katrina, did you?"

"I can show you the way to the tower; it's the least I can do if you can help my daughter. Do any of you still need snow shoes? We can get those -- mine are actually magical and can hide your tracks, as well as help you move even faster. You're welcome to them."

"As for the tower, I've never been inside, but Hatch has. Maybe he can help..."

Verana's Sundries had six bottles of alchemist's fire, Hektir.

1d6 ⇒ 6

Tsin smirks a bit at Hektir's antics.

"No, Nadya. Emil and Katrina are unharmed. I think you can thank Mal for that. They are likely busy with cleaning up their place of business." Tsin takes Nadya's snowshoes, and starts restrapping them on, as a bit of deja vu.

"Yes, it would be good to talk with Hatch. Also, snowshoes, and bottled fire. Yes." A tower to assault. In Irrisen. Against witches. This is a story tale that belongs on the nightstand for little children.

"I can ask him to come out, but I don't know if he'll want to talk to you. You may need to coax him."

"Come on Hatch, talk to us, we want to hear your stories."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

At your call, a small figure, barely knee high, emerges, looking like a hairy old man who is mostly beard.

"You called me?" he says querulously.

"Um, Hi, there, little man, beard, beard man, yea, Hatch was it?" Mal had the bird, then Pems got the rabbit, this must be Hektir's upcoming familiar "So there Hatch, Nadya mentioned that you've been inside the Pale Tower, can you tell us any stories about it? We're real interested in any stories you can share, maybe we can share something of ours with you in exchange for your stories?"

Hektir will purchase all 6 alchy fires using the monies from the slain guards. He will give 2 to Tsin, 2 to Pems, and 2 to Quinn, knowing that both he and Mal already have fire.

"...and let's not forget Bordegga, the troll who guards the courtyard."

Is anyone else drooling over the magic snowshoes? Hektir has a set of regular to trade down, but also has the belt of constitution so is probably being greedy.

* * *

Hektir sits back and listens to what Hatch might say.

Quinn will take the traded down regular shoes if available

Once the group is outside of the inn, Malavarius quickly intones a spell and focuses on Quinn, trying to determine if the mirror he recovered is magical.

----

When Hatch appears, Malavarius' eyes sparkle with contented delight and amusement. He sits back and watches Quinn question the curious house fey with a wry grin.

What, Hektir? You mean these shoes?

Tsin proceeds to move any bodies that haven't been taken care of properly, and she cinches the hood of her cloak while she starts to pace in broad circles, seeking to remove overt traces of guard movement through the village, specifically concentrating on Nadya's home.

She leaves the men to talk to their little man.

Pems shoots Quinn a sidelong look of long suffering and bows deeply to Hatch. "Please, sir Hatch, my large friend was raised in a barn; forgive him. We are heading toward the witches' tower and we have been told that you are an expert on its layout and contents. Please, any aid you may give us will be invaluable."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Mal, the mirror does indeed radiate a magical aura.

Spellcraft DC 20 to identify its properties.

The little bearded man rocks back and forth from foot to foot.

"I don't know," he says, his voice raspy. "They are dangerous. You will make them hurt, Matishka Petska!"

Hatch is speaking in Common/Taldane or is Pems our linguistic cypher once more?

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20 WHEW!

His spell cast, Malavarius' eyes narrow in focus then widen with a start. He lurches forward suddenly and snatches the mirror from Quinn, quickly wrapping it in cloth. He focuses his attention on it for a few moments longer, waving away any questions from the others like one might absent-mindedly swat at a pesky fly.

Common. Heading off to work now; will detail the mirror when I get a chance.

"Who is Matishka Petska?"

"Matishka Petska!" Hatch repeats, slightly louder, looking at Nadya.

"I think he is meaning me," Nadya says.

Hektir listens to what Pems and Hatch have to say, while admiring his nice, normal, non-magical snowshoes.

I wonder where Tsin is.

"Hatch, how can we get into the Pale Tower? What does it look like?"