Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Malavarius hisses loudly as Tsin eagerly begins to lope forward, violence bright in her eyes. "Wait just a moment, you fools! Do you remember what happened last time you drew your blades in a town we sought help from? Honestly!"

I'm going to say no hindrances; they pack the snow down enough that you can move without trouble in the camps. I'm going to say you all are 40 feet away as Tsin reaches them thank to her spell.

Mal's hissed warning comes too late, and the men let out surprised shouts as Tsin's blade catches one of them unaware, though he still keeps his feet.

Hektir and Pems are up in Round 1/2, then the antagonists go.

Pems groans inwardly. In his heart he knows that thugs cannot be reasoned with, but it's always a shock when violence begins. And a little bit of a turn on...

He moves forward 20', summons a snowball and casts it at the nearest thug! Ranged Touch: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26 for 3d6 ⇒ (4, 2, 4) = 10 cold damage and a DC 15 Fort Save or be staggered for 1 round!

Crit confirmation!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 for an additional 3d6 ⇒ (4, 4, 2) = 10 cold damage and 1d6 ⇒ 4 sneak attack if they're still flat-footed!

Round 1, Init 13

Hektir moves up 30' and readies to slash any baddie who gets too close or threatens Nadya. Should be about 10' away.

Readies Attack:
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 to hit;
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 damage.

Hektir rushes closer and takes up a guard stance as Pems' spell slams into the head of the thug Tsin hit, dropping him to the ground in a boneless heap.

The other three guards' eyes grow wide as they realize they're under assault and they turn their attention from the hapless man on the ground to the newcomers.

"Someone wants to join in, eh? You'll regret that!" one snarls. Despite his bluster, his attempt to trip Tsin fails, but the second has more luck, his hook snagging her legs and sending her into a heap on the snowy ground.

The third takes advantage and slams his weapon into the former apprentice butcher, drawing blood. 8 hp

Behind you, people start moving hastily away from the outbreak of violence, Nadya keeping an eye out for anyone else coming to deal with the sudden attack.

Malavarius tromps forward closer to the bruhaha and calls forth a shimmering curtain of protective force. "Blood thirsty fools are as bad as trolls sometimes!" Zeno blinks in confusion, unsure as to which group in particular his wizard is complaining about.

+1 deflection bonus to AC for all allies w/in 10 feet of Malavarius

Round 2, Init 13

Hektir spits as he sees Tsin get knocked down and goes to protect her. He attacks one that he can flank with Tsin.

1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 7 + 2 = 23 touch to hit; (flank)
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 damage;

HP: 37/43; AC 19, CMD 20.

Round 1, Init 10

Tsin cringes at the last moment when the guards turn with enough preparation to deal with her attack. She does revel in Pems' snowball launch, but has little time to enjoy it when she finds herself flat on her back. "Ewww, what is this... fish guts?! You can't keep the pier clean and do your work elsewhere?!"

In her disgust and in her vulnerable position, she bides her time until the others arrive, then she throws her blade to and fro, defending herself as fully as she can from another hook swing.

Delay to Init 5, Take Total Defense and Stand Up... CMD 23

"Careful, Hektir, Quinn! Those weapons are nastily effective at sweeping the legs!"

Quinn follows his bold allies into battle, drawing his rapier and stabbing the man that drew blood from Tsin. "Drop your weapons or suffer our inquisition!"

rapier: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
dmg: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Quinn rushes forward, but his speed undoes his aim, his rapier going wide as Mal closes in as well, calling up his protective ward. Tsin regains her feet, though she takes another blow in the process, a spray of blood adding to the dirt beneath her feet. 6 hp

Hektir circles around her, his blade catching the attacker from behind while Pems pulls out his sling and prepares a stone.

The three men, seeing themselves beset by a larger number, grit their teeth and exchange grim glances. They lash out with their hooks again, Quinn tumbling to the ground, though Tsin barely keeps her feet while Hektir kicks the attempt aside.

Pems stifles a curse as Tsin's blood sprays. He rushes forward and touches her, willing the healing into her. Healing: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

Round 2, Init 5

Tsin winces as the hook finds her again. She flicks her head side-to-side, assessing the next pass of her blade. When she sees Quinn in her recent predicament, she tries to work through the injured man first, while bleeding a fresh man second.

"Coward's way of fighting, trying to knock your opponent flat and hitting them while they're down. No technique, just brute force. That's why you require numbers. Look..." Tsin strikes the first man. "As long as I can keep the blade moving..." Tsin strikes the second man. "I can continue to injure more efficiently. You really should give up your hooks for something more practical."

MW Falchion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 = 8 damage

Cleave: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (1, 3) + 6 = 10 damage

Confirm Cleave Critical?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10 for 2d4 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 13 damage

Round 2, Init 13

Hektir kicks the ogre hook away, not likely their cowardly tactics. He swings at the one he nicked before (or the other wounded one if that one is down).

1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 7 + 2 = 17 to hit; (flank)
1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 damage;

HP: 37/43; AC 19, CMD 20.

Quinn leaps to his feet and aims a vicious slap at the man that tripped him. "How dare you, coward!"

slap of chaos: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Malavarius frowns at the bloody circus-like antics on the pier before him and intones a spell. As he thrusts his staff forward, a sudden rush of water erupts from the head of his staff and threatens to bowl one of the thugs off the pier and into the icy waters below.

Hydraulic Push: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21 vs. target's CMD

He then fishes a wand from one of his sleeves as he grumbles, "I have had enough of trolls and- and- and thuggery and- and, well... everything else in this miserable, frosty pit!"

Oh, right, you guys are waiting for me! :) Sorry about the delay. It's mostly the holiday's fault and totally not me forgetting about my games.

Quinn's leap to his feet provokes attacks from the three standing men, their blades cutting deeply into the cleric as he imbues the one with chaotic energy. 25 hp total

Mal's spell catches Hektir's foe, pushing him backward, but not far enough to send him off the pier, as Tsin and Hektir's blades draw blood with quick, deadly strikes.

Pems' magic restores Tsin and that seems to be the final straw for the three men. They throw down their ogre hooks and step back, holding up their hands to show they're empty.

"Enough," one calls in Skald. "Mercy!"

"They ask for mercy!" Pems relays, keeping his dagger at the ready. "Ringeirr? Where is he?" he asks the thugs in Skald. While asking, Pems moves to the downed thugs and sees if he can save their lives with his healing hex.

"You will spare us?" one man asks, as Pems discovers the one on the ground is beyond his aid.

LOL. They all pummel this whiskey out of Quinn *then* ask for mercy.

Hektir spits as the bullies ask for mercy, going over to see how Quinn is doing.

"You lot have a lot of brass to ask for mercy after what you were doing to the fisherman! Did you offer him mercy when you all attacked him?! DID YOU OFFER HIM MERCY!!?" Hektir looks ready to go a few more rounds with the bullies.

"WHY DON'T YOU APOLOGIZE TO HIM!?! And if he thinks your apology is nice enough, we'll spare your lives." Hektir fumes.

"We weren't gonna kill him," one of them protests. "Just rough him up a little until he paid his protection money! We're sorry, we're sorry!"

The beaten man climbs to his feet, blood running from a cut over one eye giving him a fearsome appearance. He holds his ribs as he surveys you and the men.

"I don't want any trouble," he says.

He looks around, as if afraid more trouble will be on its way at any moment.

"Do you know, Hektir my lad, I asked nearly the same thing of those thugs on the road? And now here we are asking the same question of a different batch of thugs. It's enough to make an old man cranky." He turns to the men and frowns, his bushy eyebrows collapsing together above his nose. "And just who do you overly violent men think will be bringing this trouble?"

Tsin steps back warily, towards the start of the pier, as to prevent unwanted retreats. She sneers a little when she has to wait for translations to finish, but considers the scenario plausible. She turns to Pems.

"Pems, would you be so kind to ask them for whom they collect their 'protection money'?" She stands ready for renewed aggression from the enforcers, or for aggressors newly summoned to the fight.

Quinn swoons from the damage, nearly losing consciousness. Calling upon Cayden, he staunches the worst of the wounds.

clw: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Pems nods and relays the question of who gets the money, in Skald.

Hektir, still angry about the bullying, checks the fallen man for coins. If he finds any, he'll offer them to the fisherman.

"I hope that apology was sufficient. These bullies are going to have issues with us if they bother you again."

The man has 20 gold on him, which the fisherman accepts with wide-eyed surprise, though he seems nervous that the bullies will simply take it from him. He also has masterwork studded leather armor, a dagger and an ogre hook.

Between him and the three surviving thugs, you learn that the Fishcamp Guards leader, Marcian Enarxion, ordered Ringeirr arrested for trying to organize the peasants of the Fishcamps to take advantage of "the current chaos" in Whitethrone and overthrow the Fishcamp Guards while Elvanna’s Winter Guard is distracted. Ringeirr is currently being held in the largest wooden shack in the village, which Marcian has dubbed his “guardhouse.”

Hektir looks at the three remaining men.

"So...you guys were beating this man up because he wouldn't pay you protection money?" Hektir's voice takes an edge. "This is chaffing on me, but I don't have time to set you all straight right now. The only question I have now is if you'll never do this again or I should kill you all."

Hektir looks at Pems to translate.

Pems translates into Skald, adding "You really don't want to see him angry. He gets all furry and bitey and... well, he eats people. It's not pretty. Best to point us toward the guardhouse now and think of this as the last day of your lives in crime."

"Over there, over there!" the defeated thug gestures. "No more, we promise"

He points to a large, ugly, unpainted building, its windows boarded shut. Its construction is rough and haphazard, as if it were once a smaller shack that had many additions tacked on later. The word “guardhouse,” along with a crude symbol of a shield crossed by a hook, is painted on the building’s only door.

Assuming you're moving on to the guardhouse, having let the three surviving thugs go, though feel free to retcon.

Quinn heals his companions further, then proceeds toward the building.

channel heal: 2d6 ⇒ (3, 1) = 4

"I got this one gang, Cayden's gifts our bountiful!" Striding to the structure, Quinn places his hands against the building and begins to concentrate.

Doorsight: By touching a door for 1 minute, use clairvoyance on the other side.

Hektir spits, reluctantly accepting the apologies and promises from the men. He lets them go with a stern finger waggle (he's learned a bit from Mal, no doubt). He then turns his attention to the guardhouse and what might be inside.

As Hektir nears the guardhouse, he will cast Barkskin on himself as realizes that combat and danger is nigh.

He nods to Quinn as the man heals and leads the way.

He's become more useful. I remember when he lost his sword as a young rookie.

While Quinn looks through the door, Pems will examine the lock. Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24 +1 if traps are involved

"Ho ho! Did you hear that, Zeno? Chaos in Whitethrone! I wonder what kind of trouble our young hangers on might stir up right under Elf-anna's nose!"
"Her name's 'El-VAH-na', you silly old git."
"Probably an elf with a name like 'Elf-anna'. Irrisen can be so unimaginative at times."
"El-VAH-na! Vanna! With a 'V'!"
"Oh no, I hope she doesn't have any bees. Can you imagine such a dreadful thing? Wintery frosty bees? Bah, she'll probably have blighted tiny fey-witch-trolls riding them. Blast Irrisen and all its black witchery!"

Tsin holds position until she's sure who receives the fisherman's money once it's been extorted. Assuming it's one and the same, Marcian...

When she is satisfied, Tsin watches as the enforcers move off, not interested in turning her back on them too soon. She catches up with the others quickly enough, the last vestiges of her enhanced speed waning.

If Marcian doesn't appear to have anything to do with the extortion, Tsin offers the crime as reason to visit the 'Guardhouse'.

She waits patiently enough for Quinn to investigate. "Shall we petition them for mercy? Perhaps claim that we were accosted unjustly? Some men might be in the unfortunate position to have to side with Marcian, and that requires the diligence to sort them out. Time we likely won't have once we speak harsh words to the large ego with crude handwriting skills." A glimmer in Tsin's eyes tips her hand.

Tsin, Marcian is the one getting the extortion money.

I'm assuming you're looking in the building's front:

Inside, Quinn sees, the furnishings are sparse, just a few small tables
and chairs in two main rooms. A pair of brutish humanoids, 10 feet tall and roughly 650 pounds, laze around, while two doors lead to the back.

The door has no lock, but Quinn notices a wooden bar inside.

"Brutes, two of them, the size of three men each, but no other men," Quinn relays in hushed whispers, and there's a bar bracing the door. Let me see what's in the back rooms." Quinn slips to the rear of the building and again places his hands against the rough planks and concentrates.

second door sight for the back rooms, and a third likely to scout all three rooms

The first back room appears to be a small bedroom; inside is a dark-haired human wearing studded leather, with a rapier and dagger on his hip, a light crossbow and quiver nearby.

The second room also appears to be a small bedroom, but this one holds a tied-up, gagged, and somewhat-battered-and-bruised human man with a light brown beard and impressive mustache.

"Brutes, huh? We've dealt with brutes before," Hektir notes with a spit.

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

"They are probably some sort of witchgiant, I suspect. With or without bee traits, we won't know until we see them."

Hektir follows Quinn to ascertain an entry point.

Tsin watches Quinn take to the walls. She surveys the rest of the fishcamps, watching for hostilities to bubble up.

When Quinn returns, Tsin leans in to share whispers. "How often were you caught, looking into the convent baths? Or was it the vestry, I wonder?" She winks at the holy Peeping Thomas.

Tsin also considers the brutes for what they likely are.

Knowledge, Nature: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 5 + 2 = 25

You're not sure what they are, based on Quinn's description. You think you'd have to see them for themselves.

As Hektir explores, he realizes there is in fact another entry point -- a hidden door leading into the bedroom with the non-tied-up man.

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

Hektir gets a look on his face as if he just realized something that had been bothering him for a long time.

"Say, Quinn...how exactly did you learn of the birthmark on Sweet Sally Bilgewater's behind? You know the one...it looks like a gnome riding a spider?" Hektir asks. "We always thought you...you know..."

"I've done nothing that Cayden himself wouldn't do as well!" Quinn assures his friends with a mischievous grin, "and you would be amazed at the percentage of people with interesting birthmarks."

With a final prayer for healing, Quinn quietly draws his rapier and readies to follow Hektir and Tsin through the secret door.

CLW: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

"Wait. This could be dangerous."

Hektir casts Ice Armor and dons it. He then casts Barkskin on Tsin, just in case.

Tsin, +2 to AC for 50 min.

With that, Hektir is ready for Quinn to open door when Tsin is ready to move in and the party is ready to back us up.

Pems will ward Tsin, then draw his icicle dagger and follow.

Nadya stays out front, to watch for anyone else coming, as the rest of you head through the door Quinn opens. The man inside's eye grow wide as he sees Tsin move in and he leaps to his feet, pulling his rapier and calling out, "Borger! Whunk!"

Pems, Quinn, Tsin are up

Pems Steps forward and stabs at the man. Attack!: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22 for 1d3 + 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 1 + (2) = 6 sneak attack!

Possible crit?: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17 for an additional 1d3 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 damage!

Slipping into the room, Quinn tries to maneuver himself where he can strike with surprise at Borger or Whunk when they charge through the door.

Round 1, Init 19

Tsin takes advantage of the man standing, and Pems hustling, to judge the man in front of them as Marcian until proven otherwise. Swift Action to activate Destruction Judgment, +1 damage

"Nooo, Marcian, we could have had a conversation. You calling your brutes in means you'd rather bleed."

She angles for flank with Pems.

MW Falchion: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 2 = 22 for 2d4 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (2, 1) + 6 + 1 = 10 damage

Quinn steps into the room, preparing himself to attack, as Pems and Tsin slide in behind him, their blades catching the man inside.

His teeth lift in a snarl as the door opens and two massive giants -- ogres! -- look in, but before they can enter, the human dives out past all of you into the larger room, leaving them standing at the door and ready to hit whichever of you follows him through.
Again, I'll try to get a map up at some point. Party's up, but going through the door will provoke attacks and possibly AoOs.

Round 2

Quinn shifts forward from his position near the door and slaps the lead brute. "Outta our way and you live! Our business is with the man hiding behind you!"

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