Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Pouting? Much like Nadya's supple pouting...

Hektir averts his eyes from Nadya's chest.

yea, the non-posting notification has been happening for me recently as well, started just checking threads regardless of notification

Quinn watches as Zeno barrel rolls and dives back towards the group. Loading his crossbow, Quinn takes aim at the closest future blackbird pie and waits for it to enter his range.

crossbow upon future meat pie: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
dmg: 1d8 ⇒ 1

(dude, will I ever exceed a 1 on half my rolls?)

"Mal, is there any chance you can convince Zeno to not retreat directly at us? The ravens might use him to pinpoint our approach." Tsin draws her bow, and waits as well.

"Eh? What's that? Well, I'm sure if we shot arrows and such at him, that might do the trick, but if we don't want the crows to see either, then I'm afraid not."

The ravens follow Zeno for a few tense minutes, but as the thrush beats his way away from the tower, they soon disperse, turning back toward their aerie.

"They have birds! Lots of birds!" Zeno breathlessly yells as he comes darting out of the sky down to Malavarius' hat.
"Never ask me to do that again!"

What time is it?

Hektir looks at the sun, trying to determine how much daylight is left.

It's early afternoon.

Quinn steps next to Hektir and does his best to imitate the trackers intimidating prowess with a spit of derision. "Silly blackbirds, threatening Zeno like that, I say we start taking a pie collection. Nadya, my sympathy for living beside such bullies, we'll butcher these fools and make sure you and your village can live free of oppression. Come on boys and girls, let's storm that tower, those witchy menaces are about to reap what they sowed!"

"Then I suggest we sound the alarm, and incapacitate 5 of 6, leaving the sixth to escort us inside." Tsin looks to Mal for his consent.

Hektir looks at Quinn.

About time he started acting like a man.

"Storming the tower sounds fine. Even also so does climbing the walls. But first, I might want to talk my way in. We still got them uniforms? Let's suit up, those that want to, and Pems...Pems, you're a witch now, right? You can do witchy stuff to make them believe you're one of them."

Hektir spits, confident in the halfling's ability to be a witch. He puts on one of the uniforms, hands one to Tsin, and other to Quinn.

If you want to do this Pems, lead on. I'm quite sure you witchy (and Mal) types don't wear uniforms.

After hyperventilating for a half a minute, Zeno flips up one side of Malavarius' hat then hops underneath.
"Zeno! Come out of there, you!"
"No!"
"If you're afraid of the crows, they turned back some time ago."
"It doesn't matter! I'm staying in here!"
"Bah. Have it your way, Zeno."
Malavarius, done arguing with Zeno, looks to the others. "Right! Now then, what is it we're doing again? I say, did any of you notice that great big tower over there? Hektir, lad, why are you taking off your pants?"

Reminder: the guards in the village didn't have snowshoes, so authentic disguises won't have them either.

"Witchy stuff? Like what?" Pems says, his voice rising higher at the end as a wild sort of fear sets in his face.

Hektir shoots a look at Mal.

"I don't give a rabbit's poop about snowshoes. Maybe we're better and smarter than the rest of them," Hektir says, turning his attention to Pems, his large muscly finger jabbing the air near the halfling.

"You're a witch, right? Well, get us in. I'll follow along, you'll see. We'll back you up on your witchiness."

Hektir begins to suit up.

Tsin does her best to drape the guard's uniform over her Cloak, not interested in losing her protections against the cold. She unstraps the snowshoes, and tries to secure them under her backpack.

"Don't mind them, Pems. They may be thinking that your condition is enough for a sentient door to open to us all. Unlikely as it is, you'll need only lead to find out."

Quinn dons the guard suit, ready to assault the tower. "Let's get them, and not just for ruining our summer or attacking a lady's caravan, but for Nadya and her children. Hmmm, maybe we should be careful about being too bold, the witches already use the child as leverage and they'll do so again if they think it will help them."

So, activating the mirror? I'm not 100 percent sure that that's the plan you're going with.

Once everyone's changed into whatever it is they wish to change into, Malavarius draws forth the mirror from one of his robe's sleeves and opens it.

Nothing immediate seems to happen as Malavarius opens the mirror other than Nadya looking more nervous.

How long do you want to wait for a possible reaction?

I'd be willing to wait up to an hour. Not knowing how ready the tower might be to send out a response team. If nothing's left by that point I'd think it'd be safe to assume noone would be sent out at all. If anyone thinks an hour is excessive though, I'd be fine with moving sooner than that if nothing happens in the interim.

An hour seems a sufficient time.

Tsin keeps her hands within the Cloak, kneading the muscles, keeping them free from spasm or cramp. Keeping them ready.

"We meet the troll first, is that correct?"

After about 30 minutes, you see the murder of ravens leave the tower, beginning to sweep back and forth as they move to your direction.

"It appears we have gained someone's attention. Let's do our best guard impersonation." Quinn double checks his outfit to be sure he's fitting the image of a guardsman.

Hektir 'awaits' orders like a good guardsman.

"Whatever you say, Witch."

Pems shudders. "Well, I guess we should act like we belong, right? Let's march toward the tower."

Tsin nods, and starts trudging through the snows, regretting not equipping the snowshoes. She tries to stand to the outside of the 'patrol'.

Malavarius looks to Nadya, "I suppose you and I are the prisoners then? Splendid!" Malavarius shuffles into the middle of the group and trudges through the snow. Zeno, meanwhile, remains curled up under the old wizard's hat.

Quinn pretends to have the old man in custody, at least as much as he would imagine such an event occurring, really they just stumble through the snow side by side.

perform, acting: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

The birds soon find you, but your ruse seems to be enough to fool them, as they merely circle over your head for a few minutes before flying back to the tower.

You make your way there through the snow, until in short order you're standing before the massive structure.

You can give me Bluff checks to try to get in. +5 for using the guards' equipment.

Pems draws himself up to his full height and tries to act as regal as possible...

Bluff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12 +5 if appropriate...

Hektir coughs, looking at Pems.

You going to talk us in, witch? Or Hektir will.

Pems, realizing that Hektir means for him to speak, calls out, in as calm and commanding a voice as possible: "Guards! Open the gate!" in Skald.

As the group approaches the gate, Malavarius wards several members of the group.

Who should get protected from arrows most? I've got 3 castings of it prepared.

"Ha! Run along, lad. This is the home of Nazhena Vasilliovna. She's not amused by jokes, and you would do best not to upset her!"

His voice is stern, but not unkind; you think he's more warning than threatening you.

"LAD?!? Do not let my stature fool you, knave! I have business with your mistress! She will not grant honors for delaying Boris Abumakov, who is envoy from the Sultan Gergorovitch! Besides," He adds in a calmer voice, "My guard has apprehended a known enemy of your mistress, spying on the tower not far from here. Now let my party in! I am weary from the road and desire repast!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

"I don't know who that is, and we don't simply open the gates for anyone who walks by without invitation. Now be gone with you!"

"OF COURSE YOU DO NOT KNOW WHO I AM! Do you think your Mistress checks her social schedule with her guards?!? Perhaps she asks your opinion on what she is to wear, what she is to eat?!? OPEN THE GATE or you shall know your mistress' wrath, knave!"

Bluff, Bluff, Bluff the Guard!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Malavarius' eyes widen at Pemsworth's tone. He muses quietly to himself but still loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, "Hooo hoo! The halfling sure does show some spunk, doesn't he though? Well, that sounds like spunk at least. Ha!"

lol@Pems

Tsin simmers, waiting for what words may accomplish.

Hektir spits, waiting for the gate to be open.

C'mon. Do some witchy stuff...pull a rabbit out of your arse hat.

There are a few moments of silence, but then the wall of ice seems to suddenly fade as you see a portcullis rising inside. Entering, you see three guards on the battlements looking down toward you.

A massive ice sculpture of a dragon dominates the open courtyard, standing with raised wings upon a dais of solid ice. Seven squat shacks sit along the inner wall, with several dogsleds stored outside. Between them, four ice chutes descend from the battlements of the outer wall. To the west, large double doors studded with icicles lead inside the Pale Tower itself, just beneath an overhang of sharp icicles dangling from above.

"Wait here," one of the guards says. "We'll go let Radosek know you're here."

He slips down one of the chutes and begins moving toward the inner gate.

Have to head off to work early today, so no map until tomorrow; sorry.

Hektir waits, looking around for the troll or other trouble.

Take 20 Perception: 30 Perception

He spits and hangs about like a bored guard while he waits.

Quinn mumbles a few words to himself, then starts studying the ice dragon sculpture. (detect magic on the ice dragon)

You don't see anything of note, Hektir. Quinn, you don't sense any magic from the statue.

Pems remains standing imperiously, looking impatient and bored with the world.

Since nobody begged for a protection from arrows, I'm going to arbitrarily pick Quinn, Pemsworth, and Malavarius himself as recipients of the spell.
Gain DR 10/magic from projectiles for 3 hours or until 30 points are negated, whichever comes first

Malavarius looks about the courtyard, "Well this is a frightfully chilly place, isn't it?"

Mott, is the inner gate within 130 feet of us by any chance?

It is within 130 feet. Map is now updated with a link at the top of the page.

A twinkle appears in Malavarius' eye and he calls out to the retreating guard, "I say, young man, I haven't understood a word you've said so far, but I'm rather sure we aren't finished addressing you yet." The old wizard intones a spell and he chuckles as the inner gate snaps shut in front of the guard's face, held fast (for a short while at least) by Malavarius' magic.
"I suppose this is the part where everyone gets angry and mean, eh? Ah well. It was bound to happen sooner or later, I suppose." Malavarius makes sure he's inbetween all his beefier, more armored allies as he produces a wand from his sleeve.

The guard yells as the gates slam shut, and they reach for their weapons!

"BORDEGGA!" one of them yells.

And with that, I'd say we're definitely into initiative

I've decided when there's multiple enemies, I'm going to average their initiatives and have them go at the same time. So Hektir and Pems are up for the Round 1/2; then the antagonists will go at the top of Round 1.

Round 1, Init 19

Hektir spits and prepares to follow orders. He draws his sword as he moves to the left of the topmost guard and gives him a flatfooted whack.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 damage.

"You messed with nature. You messed with me."