Motteditor's Reign of Winter PBP (Inactive)

Game Master motteditor

Proceeding north, the path splits, a house to your left and right.

In front of the house to the left, a large campfire burns. Several logs are arrayed around the fire and empty wine bottles and charred, sharpened sticks for roasting food over the fire litter the ground.

There are six humans -- three women and three men -- sit on the logs, talking and laughing. They don't seem to have noticed you yet.

Tsin, nonplussed, flies to the house on the right, not interested in leaving blind spots as they eventually must pass by the merry campsite.

She takes a look inside the building, keeping elevated off the ground to avoid making too much noise.

Stealth: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

She keeps her falchion at her side, but tries to keep her beastly nature subdued. She slowly starts to forget this command to self, but for now, she waits to see what may come forth from the house.

Apetir looks at the campers, then at Quinn and Pems. He points at himself, then Pems, then Quinn and gives the 'who-talky-talky' gesture.

Quinn smirks at Pems observation, but refrains from commenting for fear that the butcher will hear him.

"Pems, these folks don't even know a large ape is nearby, they may be too dull to understand your eloquence, but give it your best try." With a tap, Cayden's gift is imparted to the halfling.

cast Guidance on Pems

Malavarius nudges Pemsworth with his staff, "Pemsworth! Pemsworth, lad! Be sure to ask them if they've seen my good hat, won't you? There's a lad!"

Tsin rustles some tree branches leaning down, making far more noise than she'd have liked, as she tries to inspect the home, but she can't really see much inside from her elevated vantage point.

Across the way, Pems approaches the party, seeing three beautiful women with long hair the color of red wine and three blond men in merchant's garb.

Noticing the halfling's approach, one of the women raises a bottle of wine: "Ah, welcome stranger, come join us!"

"We're celebrating the end of the world," a man calls.

Pems stops. "The end of the world, you say? Whatever gives you that idea?" Seeing the beautiful women, Pems suddenly draws himself up to his full height and puffs his chest out slightly. "My name is Pemsworth Smith, locksmith and adventurer by avocation. What brings three such ravishing women to a place such as this? And thank you, I would definitely enjoy a glass of wine."

Tsin lands at the chokepoint at the fork, keeping an eye on the right house, while the boys socialize. She readies an attack on anything that moves to attack her.

"I'll strike you down myself, master Pems, if you deign to drink anything offered by strangers." The menace in Tsin's voice is clear enough.

Apetir hangs back, not wanting to scare people, but not trusting nothing yet. He does, however, give Quinn the 'I-got-dibs-on-the-pretty-one' gesture.

Malavarius trudges through the snow behind Pemsworth, then past him as the halfling puffs himself up. "I say now, plenty of time for all that later. You lot are willing to help an old man, aren't you? I seem to have lost my good hat. You haven't seen it come by this way have you?"

"Look around, lad," the drunken man declares. "Rebellion ish in the shtreetsh, thish shtrange foresht? The shigns are all around!"

One of the women smiles at Mal.

"Your hat? I don't think so, but why worry about such a thing? Come warm yourself by the fire instead? A little drink will also help chase the cold away!"

Not sure how much updating I'll get to do in the next few days. They're going to be busy at work.

Apetir tries to be inconspicuous while the others talk. He begins to scratch himself and considers rubbing this back against a tree.

He awaits to hear what Quinn or Pems will discover next.

"Well, I suppose a little drink wouldn't hurt." Pems smiles and accepts a glass, but doesn't drink quite yet. "So, how long have you been here?"

"A drink? My friends, what are we having this evening!" Quinn gladly joins in the drinking, though he both detects magic and purifies the liquor offered to Pems and himself while making no attempt to hide the casting.

cast purify food and drink and detect magic

Tsin begins to cycle through an evaluation of the bonfire celebration. She looks for the shimmers around the individuals, especially the ones offering drinks. Cast Detect Evil first...

"End of the world, you say? Good heavens, I hope not!" Malavarius looks around worriedly for a moment before jabbing his hat with the head of his staff. "Zeno? Zeno! Did you hear that? It's the end of the world!"
Zeno shrugs, in a manner only birds can, before curling back up in the bowl of Malavarius' hat.
Shaking his head at Zeno's lack of interest in the apocalypse, the old wizard turns to the folk around the fire. "Well if you haven't seen my good hat, have you seen magical foci for that barrier in front of that blasted chicken-legged hut?"

You detect no evil, Tsin.

Quinn, the wine does indeed detect as magic.

The women frown as Quinn casts, though the men don't seem to notice.

"Come now, do we look like we mean any harm? Just looking to enjoy a good drink with those who haven't escaped these cursed woods. I think we're the only folk here, good man, so come, drink!"

"You did not tell us there was magic in the drink, my friends, that seems more like a trick of witches than common folk." Quinn sets down his glass without drinking from it. "Are these men your charmed servants, have you such plans for us?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Apetir knucklewalks a bit closer, still playing it gorilla-cool.

Quinn!! You're talking to the one that I called dibs on!! That's the cute one.

A look of anger crosses the face of the cute woman Hektir called dibs on.

"Hardly a trick. In these days, who wouldn't want a little calmness? Why feel fear when you don't have to?" she replies.

Quinn can't tell if the woman if being honest or has some ulterior motive.

The men laugh at the cleric's paranoia.

"C'mon. Ish good!"

"I'd rather be fearful and aware of my surroundings than reduced to numb, senseless stupor, my dear! A little fear can be good, don't you know." Malavarius nods sagely, as if that should settle all arguments to the contrary. "Now, about those magical foci I asked about. You haven't seen any, have you?"

Tsin tires of the conversation. Her attitude dims, as she feels the gift of flight leave her footsteps. "This is an obscene waste of our time, talking. Shall we see how cordial these women are, then?" Tsin waves to Hektir, encouraging him to follow her past the debauchery.

She begins walking down the path to the west, smiling politely at the gathering as she passes. "Look, Mal. No bloodlust here whatsoever. I'm sure they are quite friendly, and I'll have no need to separate their heads from their shoulders." She tightens her grip, nonetheless.

"No, no, please stay!" the women entreat.

DC 15 Will save all, or you find them particularly charming and think you should do as they ask.

Will Save (DC 15): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"I most certainly will not! We have very important work to do to stop this apocaplyse which you've been going on about and sipping ensorcelled beverages beside a fire with you is not one of those tasks! Now, I ask yet again, have you seen any magical foci for that swirling barrier blocking our way to that blasted, blighted, gods-forsaken chicken-legged hut?!"

Malavarius' tone becomes angrier with each successive sentance, the last word accentuated with a stamp of his staff into the snow at his feet. He takes a breath as his words hang in the air before he adds in a softer tone, "Honestly, my dears, we appreciate your hospitality but we really do have very important things to do. To your betterment and survival, I might add."

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10 Will Save

I think she's totally into me...totally...

Apetir begin to walk towards them...

...waitaminute!! That's too easy! Usually I have convince them they can't do better first! Defiant Luck feat. Reroll on a nat 1.

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18 Will Save (+4 more if fey)

Apetir roars angrily, annoyed.

Will: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Pems shakes his head as the sudden fog seems to clog it. He frowns and pours the wine out on the ground, tossing the cup back to the nearest woman. "My dear lady, you have angered our ape. I'm afraid you've committed a terrible social faux pas and we simply must leave before the Duchess hears of this slight on her character. Good day. I said Good Day, madame!"

Mal's refusal seems to enrage the woman, her face -- and those of her two feminine companions -- growing first crimson. Then it seems to transform, taking on a beastlike visage, and growing sharpened fangs and claws.

They let out roars as they leap to attack, while looks of concern cross the faces of the three merchants, who try to scramble back -- with all the grace of a tavern drunk -- from the sudden violence.

Party is up

Knowledge (???): 1d20 ⇒ 10 +15 if arcana or planes, +11 nature // what the devil are these ladies?
special defenses, special attacks, and worst save if you please, provided the check is good enough =)

Round 1, Init 25

Unsure on whether to be roused or aroused by the shape changing women, Apetir turns his confusion to rage as he knucklewalks in front of Mal/Tsin/Quinn, to bite at the lead foe.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17 to hit;
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 damage.

"Hektir! They're doing what those women all do in your drunken stories!" Pems stumbles five feet north and casts a lightning bolt westward to hit two of the beast-women! Electricity!: 5d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 3, 3, 3) = 16 Reflex DC 16 for half!

They are baccae, fey creatures of powerful emotion. They have no special defenses that you can recall, but in addition to their charming gaze, they have a beast form when they get upset, and can rage like they were an Ulfen barbarian from the Land of the Linnorm Kings.

Will Save v DC 15: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

"Oh! Well, then, if you put it that way... See, Mal, they aren't so bad, really..." Tsin moves towards the baccae, and considers a seat. Possibly one of the recent ones to be evacuated by the fleeing merchants.

"You- you aren't young ladies at all, you treacherous baccae! Why are so many of you troublesome fey here in this forest, hmm? Tsin? Tsin, good grief what are you doing?! Of all the- this would be a good time to start swinging that sword of yours around, my girl!" Malavarius calls some magics of his own to settle upon Tsin before hopping back away from the angry baccae. "Zeno? Remind me when we're finished with all this Baba Yaga business to find a way to cut that blasted First World off from ours, won't you? I've rather had enough of all these cursed fey."

Dispel Magic (vs Tsin's compulsion): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
if the compulsion is broken by the sudden violence, cast protection from evil on her instead

hoping to move 6 squares back and well away from the nasty fey-ladies

Will Save: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13 (+2 vs. enchantments)

Quinn flashes his best smile and moves forward, subconsciously boxing out Hektir from the pretty girl as habit takes control. "Rebecca, is that your name, look, Becca, perhaps I was too hasty, can we start over here?"

consider Quinn flat footed, unless their charming gaze counts as an enchantment, then Quinn regains his wits at the last moment and slaps the sneaky baccae

Hektir steps up and swipes the nearest woman, though his claws seem to do less damage than you would have expected. They scream, though, as Pems' bolt of lightning sizzles through them.

Tsin moves up as Mal retreats, his spell seeming to have no effect on her.

Quinn follows her, but seems to come back to his senses at the last moment, slapping the nearest fey woman and filling her with chaos. Growling, she claws and bites at the cleric, ripping a bloody line down Quinn's face. 9 hp

The other two women roar in rage and rush forward toward Ape-tir, one of them risking a blow from the mighty beast. You can get an AoO against B1 The closer sinks her teeth into his hairy form, tearing at stringy muscle. 13 hp

Round 2, Init 25

Still unsure on whether to be roused or aroused by the shape changing women, Apetir tears the heck out of B1.

AoO:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (2) + 11 = 13 to hit; (bite)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 damage.

Full attack:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27 to hit; (bite)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16 to hit; (claw)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 damage.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20 to hit; (claw)
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 damage.

Seeing the baccae entangled with his young hangers on, Malavarius trundles nearer to his allies, calling up a familiar ward to further shield them from the fey's claws.

"Tsin! Stand up and swing that sword of yours already! Zeno? Zeno! What's wrong with her?"
"Maybe she thinks you're bossy and is making a point?"
"Bossy? Hmm. Well this is a decidedly awful time for making such a petty point!"
Zeno dives for cover under Malavarius' hat at this point, his muffled voice just barely heard, "I don't like being this close! Back up! Back up!"

+2 AC (deflection) to allies w/in 10 ft!

Round 2, Init 19

Ho, that feels better. When was the last time you could put your feet up, let alone next to a warm fire? I'm surprised we hadn't done this sooner.

Tsin lets her eyes drift from the fire, to the backsides of the baccae. A moment longer, and she turns her attentions to her companions, and their rising level of hostility at the beautiful women. First, you would woo them. Now, what, you would do them harm? I simply don't understand the male mind, apparently.

"Of all the- this would be a good time to start swinging that sword of yours around, my girl!"

"Mal, I swear. I would ask you to make up your mind regarding the bloodlust you so abhor, but you'd just forget, and we'd be back arguing it all over again. Remind me to never get old."

Tsin watches Quinn slap his baccae, and watches as she reciprocates. "Quinn, for the love of humanity, if you strike our hostesses, will they not bleed? She's quite upset over your brutal slap. Don't be surprised if she goes for your eyes."

Tsin doesn't know what to make of the animal lust circulating through the partners of Hektir's bestial menage a trois. She is glad when Mal speaks again.

"Tsin! Stand up and swing that sword of yours already!"

Her blade comes to rest on her lap to punctuate her refusal to participate in the boys' refusal of the baccaes' hospitality.

"The only reason Quinn and Hektir are bloody at the moment is that they failed to understand they'd need to get as good as they give, Mal. Look at me. I'm mere feet away from these beautiful creatures, and they grant me peace because I see no reason to shatter it."

Please, give me a reason to reroll a Will Save... just one reason...

Round 2

Seeing Tsin's obvious enchantment, Quinn pushes his way to the fire side and delivers a slap of clarity to the butcher. "Snap out of it girl, these are witchy fey beasties!" shift NW beside fire

Slap of Dispel Magic: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

(cast Dispel Magic, spells remaining: 1-3rd, 3-2nd, 2-1st)

Pems evil eyes the nearest beast lady for AC.

Hektir tears into the nearest baccae, nearly ripping her apart. Still, despite her wounds she seems to be unaware of it in her enraged state, and she claws and bites back at the ape, splattering almost as much of his blood. 20 hp

Ignoring the danger, Quinn ducks under the teeth of the two women nearest him, slapping Tsin with a spell that seems to have no more effect than Mal's.

Pems' magic similarly does little, though Mal's looks to be more effective, as he wards his companions.

The remaining baccae turn on Quinn and Pems, the cleric again avoiding harm, but the halfling taking a couple claws that nearly disembowel him. 19 hp

Dispel Magic: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

"TSIN! Come to your senses and take up your sword already!" Malavarius brings his grandfatherly, authoritative tone to bear, hoping it and his magics are at last affective in freeing Tsin from whatever enchantment grips her.

Round 3

Quinn turns his attention back to Becca as he draws his rapier and jabs at her. "You witchy fey are all the same, acting like you're friendly then killing folks!"

+1 rapier: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
dmg: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Round 3, Init 25

A bit less damage on Apetir, with Resinous Skin up he has DR/5 bludgeoning. Full damage from the bite (which is all 3 types of damage) and -5 each from the claws which are usually just slashing.

Apetir tears the heck out of B1 and if she falls, he will 5' step and attack B3.

Full attack:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22 to hit; (bite)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23 to hit; (claw)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 damage.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30 to hit; (claw)
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 damage.

10-4. I appreciate the head's up, but definitely expect you guys to handle DR and whatnot. I'll try to remember to separate out the damage amounts for you. And that will be enough to cause Hektir's foe to fall.

Pems stumbles backward, thrusting his hand across his wound to close it! Healing Hex: 2d8 + 5 ⇒ (2, 4) + 5 = 11

Round 3

Hektir rips into his foe with animal savagery, and though his claws and teeth still seem blunted against her flesh, he's able to do enough that she falls to the ground with a scream, no longer moving.

Quinn pokes his foe, his blade doing little harm, as Pems stumbles back and heals himself.

Mal's spell still having no effect, Tsin rebuffs him and the baccae press their attack against the cleric caught between them, claws and teeth turning crimson with the Caydenite's blood. 28 hp

Round 4, Init 25

Apetir tosses down the pieces of Baccae and looks to attack another. He pauses for a moment as he sees Quinn being torn apart...

I can't remember...but I think this is one of his fantasies? Right?

Apetir cocks his head, trying to remember. As a lot of blood gets splurted, Apetir decides he should step in.

Apetir tears the heck out of B3.

Full attack:
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26 to hit; (bite)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12 damage.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29 to hit; (claw)
1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19 to hit; (claw)
1d4 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 damage.

Round 4

"Owww, Hektir, get them off me!" Quinn hollers. "Cayden grant us strength against these vixens, see how they sap the blood of men!"

move action, quick channel, selective to exclude vixens: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 4) = 14

Sure that his blade is no threat to these ladies, Quinn turns his attention to creating a girl fight. "Tsin, feel that healing energy from Cayden, that's because WE'RE GETTING KILLED! Get Up, Girl, and Fight!" Quinn smears some of his own blood across the face of the butcher, hoping the irony tang will bring her back to her senses.

with quick channel is it possible to channel twice in a round? that seemed like bending the rules