Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Hektir goes off to slash at trolls and ogres for a few minutes, futilely saving as many children as he can. Oaths and invectives, a constant stream of hate and unending promises of destruction against all witches, spew from Hektir's lips as he runs ragged across the courtyard.

After a minute or so, he slumps against a wall taking ragged breaths.

"...I hate them witches..."

After four minutes, the ghostly children and monsters fade away, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Inside the remains of the church building, Mal sees mostly wreckage, including a toppled-over altar.

Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

"Bah. Toppled altars and restless spirits... Quinn? Quinn! Blast it, lad, where are you?"

When Hektir calms down, he will begin to build a pyre for the bodies, not wanting to leave them around to be re-'born' as undead again. Before burning the bodies, Hektir will loot them.

When they bodies are blazing, Hektir will enjoin the team in the chapel...which he will also loot.

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23 Perception

"Here da...Mal, right here. Terrible business this, false goody priests attacking travelers, something must be done!" Quinn watches grimly as Hektir chases ghosts about the courtyard.

"Look at this mess, would you? This ground was considered holy once. You wouldn't happen to have any means of rededicating it, would you? It would be a shame to leave it in such a state. I think that might put Hektir's ghosts over there to rest too."

"Hmm, Yes, yes, we could do something about this! The power of Cayden is just the thing to remove the desecration on this place! A full night of rest and a morning of prayer and we'll have our answer to these ghostly frights." Certain they'll be spending the night here, even though it's midday now, Quinn starts investigating the inner church area for a suitable place to camp through the night.

As Hektir explores the chapel, he finds a small stone coffer in a cavity under the stone; it contains a scroll of hold person and a scroll of resist energy (cold) in an engraved scroll case, a belt consisting of many bits of tanned leather joined together by thick metal studs, a ring, a pair of fire opals and what a later count reveals is 220 gp and 27 pp.

Hektir will pass the potential magic items to Pems and Mal, the scrolls to Quinn, and pack the gold away in the bag of holding.

He'll then help Quinn set up camp.

Tsin studies the macabre mirage at a distance, allowing Hektir his space and his time to work out his impotent rage against the trolls.

Glad to be free of further blasphemy, she contents herself with slicing wolf meat thin, allowing them to cook it more quickly.

When discussion of the reconsecration comes up, she listens politely, resigning herself to another evening in stasis. Whitethrone, we'll see you yet. For now, we'll settle in, and regret we were ever born to this fate. I can feel the pulsing, you see. It commands my blood to surge through you, to gods know where. The pushing is there, seeking out our means to secure this witch's hut. The pushing. We're no knights on a holy pilgrimmage. We're mules, lashed by the whip to plod on through the snow. What's the carrot? I see no carrot. I only feel the whip.

She works her metals, examining them for signs of wear and tear. When she's satisfied, she finds a spot in the courtyard where she can limber up and 'practice the boxes'. Sexte, pass Septime. Septime, draw Quarte. It eases her mind, at least. It brings her back to Oppara, and the Guards' courtyard. Warmth and sweat, laughter and sun.

Nadya looks unhappy at the idea of setting up camp.

"Why stay here? The more time we spend on the road, the more time the witches have to find us. There's nothing for us here, and no reason to lose half a day of travel."

Malavarius misses Nadya's complaint as he focuses his attention on the belt and ring, searching them out for magics.

Spellcraft (belt): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (9) + 13 = 22
Spellcraft (ring): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29

"Why stay here? The more time we spend on the road, the more time the witches have to find us. "

Hektir looks at Quinn for an answer.

"Yeah, how come?" Hektir asks with a spit.

"Because it's the right thing to do." Pems says quietly from the corner where he watches the ghostly children suffer over and over again. "I do not know if these are souls or some forgotten echo, but if Quinn's prayers can set them free, can grant them some rest, then we must do what we can. Even if it means we draw the attention of the witches. Just like we had to search for your daughter, Nadya. It is the right thing to do."

The belt is a bladed belt and the ring is a ring of feather falling.

Nadya looks over as Pems begins to speak and nods by the time he's finished.

"You are right. Forgive me for saying anything," she says.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully, though the area seems all the colder for it's horrific history.

Pems smiles at her, sadly. "Nothing to forgive. It's a cold country, but we can't let it get us cold inside. Summer's always inside us." He smiles at her children, then looks away toward the ghostly children again.

Quinn smiles widely at Pems words and later uses the sentiment during his morning prayers.

Please, Cayden, let these souls rest, all of them, let them all find the fields of eternal summer and frolic with the empyreal lords!

So are you casting something, Quinn? I can move us on if everyone's ready.

Yes, with Mal's advice, Quinn Consecrates the church grounds.

Quinn's spell settles on the courtyard, and you hear what almost sounds like a sigh of relief, the ghostly visages of children again appearing momentarily before they dissipate into the air. An oppressive weight, which you hadn't even realized had settled on you, seems to lift from your shoulders.

With nothing more apparent to be done in the ruined village, you resume your journey, the cold winds soon reminding you that despite your good deeds of the morning, winter still reigns in Irrisen.

Late in the day, as the sun begins to set, you see another village ahead, Ellsprin, Nadya reassures you.

As you approach, you see a solitary wooden house on the outskirts ofthe small village, partially surrounded by a small grove of trees and hardy shrubs, far from the other houses in the village. A thin column of smoke rises from the chimney, but there is no other sign of life from within, and the window shutters are pulled closed. Fifteen feet in front of the homestead, a humanoid shape lies facedown -- the snow around it is dyed red with blood.

Tsin keeps her blade sheathed, keeping her hands free to examine the body for signs of battle. Before she touches the body, she examines the area around it, trying to discern what may have happened, and if the bleeding started and stopped in the same place.

Survival: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

If there apppears to be no sign of life, she turns over the body.

Hektir spits, fearing trouble, and casts Barkskin. He checks the area for tracks while Tsin examines the body.

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28 Perception/survival

Pems lets out a deep sigh as the ghostly children fade into peace.

When they reach the village Pems moves forward and peers around, looking for danger! Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20

Quinn watches the cabin for any signs of life as his companions investigate the scene.

perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

As you approach the body, you notice tracks in the snow that end abruptly near the house. At the same time, a woman's voice cries out from within.

"Please help! I think they're still out there!"

And with that, I think we'll go back to round-by-round action

Everyone but Mal is up

Round 1, Init 14

Tsin stands up from the body as the voice calls out from the cabin. Well, this may detain us for a while, needlessly, or we may benefit from their gratitude in the form of shelter and dinner. She sighs, and looks around, drawing her falchion.

"What and how many exactly are we looking for out here?"

Pems begins to scan the area, ready for an attack. In the meantime, he re-wards Hektir, adding his witchy boon to Hektir's combat prowess.

Round 1, Init 16

Hektir looks at the place where the voice was coming from.

"This had better not be more witchery," Hektir says with a spit, walking so he's back to back with Tsin.

He will cast Produce Flame, creating light to offset the falling sun. His fist springs to flame.

"There were two of them, I think. One of them was so hard to see!"

As Tsin turns her attention to the cabin, Quinn turns his attention to the body. Kneeling beside the bloody humanoid, he does his best to determine if life still remains and to preserve it should the flame still sputter.

sacred touch to stabilize

heal: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Round 1
As Tsin pulls her blade and Hektir creates flame while Pems adds a ward to the tracksmage, Quinn approaches the body.

He leans down try to revive him, only to realize it's too late.

Before he can stand back up, though, a strange tiny, vaguely humanoid creature seeming made completely of bundles of sticks wound with thorny vines appears behind him. In the same moment, a quick blur, again seemingly humanoid in shape, zips forward on the other side. He's able to fend off the twig creature, but the other's claws tear into him, the chill palpable as they dig into his side. 4 hp plus 4 cold damage; they're flanking Quinn

Round 2, Init 14

Knowledge, Nature, Monster Lore: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 5 + 2 = 22

"Ahhf! Why must the things of fairy tales jump off the page and into Quinn's side like this? Twigjack and Quickling." Something about the twigjack disturbs her enough to concentrate her attack on it. She tries to step into Quinn's unintentional flank. She calls forth her wrath to injure the creature more strongly. Destruction Judgment

MW Falchion, Power Attack: 1d20 + 9 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (16) + 9 + 2 - 1 = 26 for 2d4 + 6 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (3, 1) + 6 + 2 + 1 = 13 damage

Round 2, Init 16

Hektir moves around to help Tsin with the twigwitch, punching with his fire fist. (1/4)

1d20 + 3 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 3 + 5 + 2 = 15 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 FIRE damage.

Hektir tries to glimpse the attackers.

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13 Know (Nature)

Round 2

Quinn slaps at the blur as it races past him.

touch of chaos: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

"Witchery! Can nothing be as it appears in this land?"

"I have had just about enough!" Malavarius sends a flaming likeness of Zeno zipping through the chaos to erupt in the twiggy foe's face.

Snapdragon Fireworks (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 4 + dazzled for 1 minute; Reflex Save DC 18 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Pems moves over to Quinn and heals him for 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11 points of healing!

Let me know what you want to know about the critters. Actually, that holds true for whenever you make ID rolls.

The twigjack lets out a cry of pain but leaps back before the flame can fully engulf him. That puts him right in the path of Hektir's flaming fist of fury, which causes the ends of his twiggy body to become engulfed, drawing more cries of pain, and Tsin's blade just adds to its misery.

As Nadya retreats from the fight with her sons, keeping a careful eye out for any other attacks while she draws her weapons, Pems leaps forward to heal Quinn, who manages to tag the blurring creature as it speeds past him.

"Verminous humans!" it cries as it dashes behind Hektir, and slashes at the tracksmage with its claws, though it misses badly.

The twiggy creature seems to draw in on itself for a moment, the gaps in its body from Tsin's sword filling in, and then suddenly explodes, a barrage of splinters and brambles flying out to catch Quinn, Tsin and Pems. 12 hp; DC 15 Reflex save for half In the next instant, it seems to disappear in the bramble, gone as if it were never there.

Round 3, Init 16

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21 Perception

"Where did you go, you little twigwitch!?" Hektir says, using his flaming fist for light. "Oh, there you are. Don't go too far."

Hektir throws a ball of fire at the twigwitch. (2/4)

1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 3 + 2 = 14 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 FIRE damage.

Round 3

reflex save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Avoiding the worst of the twiggy damage, Quinn focuses on the quick creature, drawing his rapier as he moves forward to stab at it and grant Hektir or Tsin flanking if possible.

rapier: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
dmg: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
miss chance, high is good: 1d100 ⇒ 68

"What do you want little creature? We don't have to hurt you like we have your friend."

Round 3, Init 14

Reflex Save v DC 15: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Tsin senses the creature's sudden swelling, and spins from it to place her backpack and Cloak in the way, shielding her from some of the woody shrapnel.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

Spotting the creature suddenly so far away, Tsin charges it. This assumes that Tsin still has Nadya's magic snowshoes.

MW Falchion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 13 damage

Reflex: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27

Pems snarls and lays hands upon himself to heal the damage! Healing Hex: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Looking around wildly for the twigjack, Mal finally launches another flaming bird, this time at Hektir's assailant, who quickly dives away from the worst of the flame.

Hektir's own flame sails over the twiggy creature's head, but it provides enough of a distraction for the magical snowshoe-shod Tsin to race over and slam her blade down onto it, shattering it into small splinters.

As Pems heals himself, Quinn slashes at the remaining creature, but it easily dips around his blade, with a cold laugh. Cackling madly, he reaches out to touch Hektir, who feels his blood seemingly freeze in his veins. 3 Dex damage It dashes away, putting 60 feet between Quinn, Pems, Hektir and itself and 90 for Tsin. Quinn and Hektir can get AoO

Round 4, Init 14

Tsin takes no pleasure in smashing the twigjack to pieces, the destruction feeling alien to her. Like chopping sentient wood. What kind of force cares to animate lumber? Then again, why meat?

She spins around, letting the cackle draw her attention. When the creature streaks away, she moves back to the group, slowly stepping up as she watches the speed of the quickling. "Would you look at that! Such agility!" She brings her seeking sight to bear on the creature, hoping to understand if the quickling is by nature sadistic with its speedy attacks. She readies an attack, should it return.

MW Falchion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 = 11 damage

Round AoO

Hektir clumsily swings with his flaming fist at the remaining creature.

1d20 + 3 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 3 + 5 = 26 touch to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8 fire damage. (1 round/attack left)

AC 18 - 1 dex penaly + 2 barkskin = 19

Round 4, Init 16

Hektir lobs a ball of fire at the thing.

1d20 + 3 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 3 + 2 - 1 = 5 touch to hit; (dex damage)
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 fire damage.

Hektir feels mixed emotions as his fire fist goes out. He spits to show that he's still in the fight.

Pems, seeing Hektir hit, places his ward upon him again, trying to save him from further damage.

"You'll need to run a great deal further, you blasted little troublemaker!" Malavarius accentuates his point by first sending another zeno-cracker darting through the air toward the quickling, and then by intoning another fiery spell.

Snapdragon Fireworks (fire): 1d4 ⇒ 2 + dazzled for 1 minute; Reflex Save DC 18 for 1/2 damage + negates dazzled condition

Spontaneous Immolation (fire): 3d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 4) = 10 + catch on fire; Fort Save DC 19 for 1/2 damage + negates catching on fire

AoO

Quinn slaps again at the little creature as it blurs past him.

touch of chaos: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Round 4

"Come back here you little sprite!" Quinn hollers as he sheaths his rapier and draws his crossbow. "You can't outrun our arrows!"

Mal's spells catch the creature, though he dodges the worst of the first one, and he screams in pain, spitting out curses toward the elderly wizard -- "Be glad you've lived so long, human trash, for you won't have a day more!"

He easily dodges Hektir's flame as he rushes back to the group, seeming not slowed at all by the snow and ice, and avoiding your attacks, races to Mal. His claws rip through the old man's cloak, drawing fresh blood. 3 hp plus 4 cold hp As he does, you notice the creature's burns already starting to heal in the winter cold.

Mal's still 30 feet from the rest of you, I believe.

Round 5, Init 14

Tsin curses as the creature locks on Mal. We're nothing but a herd, and it's targetting the old and infirm. At least its predatory instincts are well honed. I'd likely target Mal first, only for the strength of his magics.

She races to Mal's side, hoping to land an attack while the creature is still visible.

MW Falchion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 6 = 12 damage