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Brayden looks on at the battlefield unfolding before him; four brave warriors, fallen and bleeding. Janira, his crush, off to the side, not moving.
"Just as I have failed my mentor, I have failed you all." Brayden shouts, as sweat and river water dribbles down his face. He's flooded with helplessness. The stream swirls around below him as it continues to drag him out to sea. "Friends, please forgive me! We have met our match, and I fear there is nothing I can do. Iomedae will deliver vengeance another day. I swear to you," tears begin to form in his eyes, "your sacrifice will not be in vain!" He throws his arm out and quickly points his longsword into the sky in a Thundercat-esque way. A rumble is heard above. He looks on at the awful hooved creature, wanting nothing more than to slide his polearm alongside its skull, breaking it cleanly in two.
But that would not happen today, as Brayden failed to be the savior - his greatest fear, now realized - a bloody battleground with zero survivors.
Brayden delays, stops struggling in the water and lets the current wash him away. He's silent as he stares on at the bloody scene.
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Recovering with Help:
One hour after a tended, dying character becomes stable, the character must make a DC 10 Constitution check to become conscious. The character takes a penalty on this roll equal to his negative hit point total. Conscious characters with negative hit point totals are treated as disabled characters. If the character remains unconscious, he receives another check every hour to regain consciousness. A natural 20 on this check is an automatic success. Even if unconscious, the character recovers hit points naturally. He automatically regains consciousness when his hit points rise to 1 or higher.
Recovering without Help:
A severely wounded character left alone usually dies. He has a small chance of recovering on his own. Treat such characters as those attempting to recover with help, but every failed Constitution check to regain consciousness results in the loss of 1 hit point. An unaided character does not recover hit points naturally. Once conscious, the character can make a DC 10 Constitution check once per day, after resting for 8 hours, to begin recovering hit points naturally. The character takes a penalty on this roll equal to his negative hit point total. Failing this check causes the character to lose 1 hit point, but this does not cause the character to become unconscious. Once a character makes this check, he continues to heal naturally and is no longer in danger of losing hit points naturally.
Now, going by this, Asterion regained consciousness, as he rolled even a natural 20.
Disabled characters can make 1 action, as long as it doesn't strain them too much, such as 1/2 movement speed....or a healing spell.
Given Brayden's passed swim check to get on land, you have a few rounds to help each other as best you can.
It's too late for Janira, though, as the minotaur's original goal was to kill her.
Nevisial's got a good chance of making it, we'll double check for Maladash as well. Mercutio might be needing that boon.
Asterion (-7/17, conscious but disabled)
Brayden (healthy)
Maladash (-10/11) 12 con
Mercutio (-11/12) 14 con
Nevisial (-5/11, conscious but disabled)
Janira (to be killed)
Round 6:
The minotaur, oblivious of Brayden's emergence, moves to Janira and kills her.
Brayden & Asterion can act
Brayden attempts 1st aid on Maladash, but it isn't quite enough.
Asterion uses his wrist sheathe to spring forth a healing wand, and heals himself for 4.
I'll get to the rest of wrapping up later today.
There's some diseased people among you after all.
After the minotaur has left, and you patch up one another via one healing or another.
The trek back is of mixed feelings, as you had survived and overcome all trials, yet lose your guide in the end.
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You report in with the VC and his judges.
"Our sympathies for your guide. Yet we should ask you now, do you have your reports on your mission?"
As you took notes, you hand them over.
"Thank you for your effort."
After they had skimmed through the notes, they nod in approval.
"A mission well done, we hope you venture well in the future."
VC: "There's the matter of Janira,... you'll have to inform Kreighton Shaine about it. Poor man, she was one of his favorite pupils."
This news weighs heavy on the mind of Kreighton Shaine, but he sees you were not to blame for this tragic turn of events.
"There will be a funeral service held in little over a week. I'd appreciate you being there, if you can."
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While Brayden and Maladash overcome the diseases inflicted upon them during the trip, Nevisial passes away.
Despite some hushed up circumstances around it, a service was held for her alongside Janira's.
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Mercutio, who'd visited the sick ward intermittently to play his violin as the others battled their illnesses, now sits with the survivors at one of the nicer booths in the Pig's Paunch. He is the least morose among them by a wide margin. He smiles and raises his mug, the contents of which visibly emit a pale green glow, and toasts.
"To past companions! To future glories! To LIFE!"
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Brayden sits at the booth with his face down in a mug of ale. He hears the dhampir celebrate and shakes his head. He pulls out his long sword and places it on the table, wrapping two pieces of twine tightly around its hilt - a red one, representing Janira's sacrifice, and a green one, in memory of Nevisial. A third black strand sits further up the hilt.
Putting his long sword away, Brayden sips from his mug and continues making idle conversation with the others, half of him listening, half still deep in his own thoughts. The guilt is too much to handle right now.
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"It was a beautiful hike. So much madness as I could only wish! All this has shown us the hopelessness and futility of our existence. It's so charming and adorable! Pure chaos. Hopefully, our next trip will be filled to the brim with the same bloody fun!"
He looks up at the sad Brayden...
"I'm in your debt, paladin. I can't say that it means something to me, like my own life, but I like you with all this "iron" nobility. Perhaps I'll protect you next time. Or not! We'll see. Hahaha!!"
It is seen that half-orc in great spirits...
"However, the ghoul I also like. A good sense of humor, although I wasn't happy when you wanted to settle with me on the beam! But that's OK, otherwise, I will continue to enjoy your singing and running around."
It is possible that Maladash just drunk...
"Asterion, without the mask, I like you more."
...Now you are sure he's already drunk.
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Mercutio sips the eerie contents of his mug.
"May I ask for whom the black strand is for?" He asks Brayden.
Then he turns to Maladash. "And for you, whereas I understand that you may not realize it, you do me a great disservice with the uncouth epithet of 'ghoul.' I would simply ask that you rescind your error, lest our expertise in language all decay to the point where meaningful communication becomes possible through fists alone." He smiles gently.
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Brayden turns to the grinning, pale-faced man. "That one..." he turns his head back down, his eyes staring into the reflection of himself on the surface of his ale, "That strand is for my friend -- I had known him since I was a child. Murdered before my very eyes, much like what almost happened to all of you these past few days." He takes a gulp from his mug and swallows hard.
His expression changes. "It took me years to realize his death was what Iomedae wanted, and I feel he would be proud of me now. His sacrifice lead me to her, and to the Society. Every day that I'm able to protect others is another day I have avenged him. No --" he has that same old brazen look in his eyes - the same look he had when he ran over to Maladash and used a lit torch to foolishly protect him from a swarm of mosquitos - "Vengeance is not what I seek. I wish to give his death meaning, to fight for others, all in his honor."
He seems somewhat relieved letting that off his chest.
At Maladash, he smiles. "You have quite the strange tongue, half-orc! And I am sure you would protect me just as I have done for you." The ale seems to be helping him feel better.
"Enough of this heavy talk. We have not heard that violin of yours in days, Mercutio."
Some of the patrons have overheard the tension and are looking at the two of you.
Dwarf: "5 gold pieces on the pale man."
Half-Orc: "You must be joking, it's the half-orc who's going to win."
[Some bickering between patrons about who'll win]
3....2....1....FIGHT!!
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"Well," Mercutio responds to Brayden. "Not when you were conscious, anyways." Then he turns to Maladash. "Now about that apology: I am going to oblige Brayden's nice request with a nice little piece I heard somewhere in Cheliax, and if I have not heard it from you by the time I am done, I am going to punch you in the face."
He stands up with his violin, saunters a few feet away, and begins an odd little number he once overheard in some dark tavern during a stayover in Cheliax (his recall of some lyrics may not be perfect).
His performance isn't terrible, given that he'd only heard it once.
He looks back at his party's table, puts down his violin, and charges Maladash, the gleam in his eyes becoming brighter and less human.
Round 1:
Mercutio attacks, but that was a miss...it also provoked because he doesn't have improved unarmed strike. :)
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Brayden applauds the performance and laughs heartily, finding the lyrics especially comical. Even if it weren't all that great, he's a few mugs of ale in now, and even the screams of a banshee might please him.
"A duel! Now this is entertainment! hic" He sits back with a smile plastered across his face and watches, smashing his fist on the table in excitement.
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Maladash did not lose from the attack of dampier and has the answer!
After his kick he slightly recedes from the enemy, in haste to offer up a prayer and gives his intuition to guide his hand in battle.
"Ghoul naDev, baQa'! Argghh!" - He stands in the characteristic battle stance.
Maladash's aim is way off.....earning him the laughter of some patrons, especially some dwarf.
"What did i tell you? The pale guy's winning this one, harhar!"
..and use a Martial Flexibility to get Improved Unarmed Strike
Round 2:
Mercutio
Maladash leans to the right to dodge, as Mercutio makes a jab at his jaw.
His retaliation isn't much of a success either.
Maladash
Maladash's swing catches Mercutio on the jaw, now invoking cheering from the half-orc.
"Eat your socks, dwarf, the half-orc's clearly doing better."
Round 3:
Mercutio