Palace of the Vampire Queen (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

"Besides we were blowed-up by a crazed gobo, our 'eads be a bit scrambled."

I have this image of Dwarves, their ears ringing, running left then right, then seeing a Goblin carrying a flaming barrel of wine, and running the opposite direction as fast as they can

Yes, that is correct. After which he will stay where he is for the moment.

I have this image of Dwarves, their ears ringing, running left then right, then seeing a Goblin carrying a flaming barrel of wine, and running the opposite direction as fast as they can

Visually that's works.

If Windle is still on fire, Hal throws his cloak over Windle and pats him down to put him out.

Day 7, Late Morning, 8/61 (Current Turn/Turn of the Clock)

Round 2 wrap up

Unfortunately, windel, seeing he is unable to put out the flames through conventional means, begins casting a spell that will drench him in water, doing the job for sure, but he takes 1d6 ⇒ 6 damage in the process

Windel summons another torrent of water and extinguishes the flames on his pants, and then runs toward Moralane, as she shouts, “Can the rest of you make it this way?” while waving her hand as if to signal toward herself, and then she sees Melodak is carrying a flaming barrel! ”You crazy squint what are you doing? Get out of there before you blow yourself to the heavens!”

It is the top of Round 3: Stephanie can act, the monsters hesitate at the door because the room is on fire, Hallister can do something other than help Windel, Rownig runs through the door passed Moralane, Atharessa is waiting to see what she is going to be told to do, but more importantly WHAT IS MELODAK GOING TO DO WITH THAT BARREL! Then Miagnik is up, followed by Windel, again, now safe in the room to the east, with Atharessa and Moralane

Because Windel and Rownig are wet, they can move through the room safely, everyone else should make a Reflex Save, if they move through the room at all, the DC is 13, and if you fail you catch fire.

Hal's concern is getting everyone the hell out of the burning room. He'll worry about the dwarves first. Anyone still in the room is essentially getting Dragged out.

With a cough, Stephanie composes herself--standing up straight and chin high, though she keeps her sleeve pressed close to nose and mouth. She cringes at the thought of singeing her robes, even though she's confident in her ability to repair them... but really doesn't want to spend the day looking as though she walked through a furnace.

Then with an eyeroll toward Melodak's unlady-like behavior, she leaps through the flames licking at her heels.

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

The flames around her quickly ignite the hems of her robes, though the gnome continues her charge through the inferno. Once she reaches the previous room she immediately drops to the floor in an attempt to extinguish the flames rising towards her waist.

Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4
Reflex Save for Clothing: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Reflex to Extinguish: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Assuming I'm interpretting rules right: Failed save means FIRE! 1d6 Damage. Clothing needs to make a reflex save or take the same damage (not sure if it gets my bonuses?). Finally, rolling on the ground to extinguish allows another check with a +4 bonus.

Move Action to leave room.
Standard Action to Extinguish.

As the flaming fabric is smothered, the flames diminish leaving a wide-eyed and soot-covered gnome prone on the rock floor. She looks up at the others in a panic, unaware of whether her clothing survived the blaze but suddenly alerted to the possibility.

"DIVERT YOUR EYES!" She squeels, trying to muster a shakey authority. "I may not be decent!"

Rownig and Windel are staying out of the room, they would grab and pull Hal if necessary. "If the dang gobos want to 'xplode themselves let 'em." Rownig will prepare to slam the east door shut.

Hal was a fairly reasonable guy, and that sounded like sound reasoning to him. With all the dwarves out of the room, he rushed out after them swatting the flames off his pants.

"They're all a bunch o' lunatics…" he muttered to himself.

Hall - can you throw me a reflex save, DC 13 to get out of the room without catching on fire?

Reflex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

No, apparently I can't…

RD 3: Windel

When the cleric can act he casts create wter again and drenches Hallister, "'ere's yer one bath a month.'

Melodak hurls the barrel at the undead coming out of the door, and rushes to grab up the other one, hopefully out of the range of the ensuing explosion.

IF YOU ARE STILL IN HERE WHEN I TURN AROUND I AM GOING TO THROW THE NEXT ONE AT YOU! Melodak screams over her shoulder

Reflex save1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Day 7, Late Morning, 8/61 (Current Turn/Turn of the Clock)

Round Three

Princess Stephanie runs to the eastern room, igniting her dress on the way. The fire singes the flesh on her ankles, slightly, and when she reaches the room she tumbles to the ground, here it is thankfully not in flames, and rolls back and forth until she is extinguished. When she leaps to her feet she cries out in alarm, but Atharessa approaches her with a smile,

”Your dress is fine,” she says. ”A little shorter, but it looks great that way. Are you okay?”

The undead monsters at the door see Melodak approach with the barrel in her arms. She struggles with the weight, but she shambles onward. When the monsters realize the potential, they panic and flee back to the west wall of the room.

Hallister waits till the last minute, when he is sure all the dwarves have gotten out of the room and then with a leap he dives for the door himself, but he doesn’t clear the flames and comes rolling into the room on fire. Rownig throws his short cloak onto Hall, and Windel dowses him with another gush of conjured water.

Hall takes: 1d6 ⇒ 5 damage before he is put out

Melodak, struggling with the weight of the huge barrel blocks the door to the west, and then heaves it into the room.

Her estimation of her own strength, being what it is, is lacking. The barrel only travels a couple of feet then fall on its side, the lid is popped off and the alcohol splashes out into the room, followed by another small bluish creature . The heat from the burning barrel ignites the alcohol and there is another mighty explosion. Melodak tries to stay on her feet but the blast of hot air throws her backward and onto the flaming floor.

The Ingram in barrel 2 is destroyed by the explosion

The explosion does 3d8 damage ( a save, Reflex DC 14,will mean you take half, rounded down) to the Kalkadirs, Melodak and Miagnik – Melodak’s save, means she takes have the number rolled below, but she needs to roll a second Reflex save, DC 10, to avoid catching fire now that she is prone on the floor again. The room to the west in also now in flames

Blast Damage: 3d8 ⇒ (4, 1, 5) = 10

Reflex Save#1: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Reflex Save#2: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Reflex Save#3: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Reflex Save#4: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Reflex Save#5: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Reflex Save#6: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Miagnik’s smile grows to unbelievable proportions as he relishes in the intense heat and added flames.

Moralane, cries out, ”Hey you two, get out of there, that third barrel is going to explode any moment!”

Miagnik can try to run out of the room, that’s a DC 15 reflex save, to avoid catching fire and then that is the end of round 3. At the beginning of round 5, the third barrel will explode

At harnesses had read the panic on Stehanie's face, but watches now as relief floods in. The princess nods a quick thanks for the assurance, even more grateful that her clothing survived than the fact that she herself has remained relatively unscathed.

"Give old Praggul my thanks." Hal says, sputtering water out of his mustache.

Then he whirled at the second explosion.

Serves the little psychos right Hal thinks with a scowl on his face, wincing from how badly he's been burned. If they don't burn themselves to death, I might just kill 'em.

He was too badly injured to risk going back into the flames for the goblins, so he looked around for a line to toss them.

Reflex vs. flames: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

Miagnik watched the flames come and he began to move with them. He could feel them, angry, yet stymied and he began to dance with them. Some, he dodged from his movement. The remainder seemed to wash around his scales without much effect.

He ran through the room to the rest of the group.

Reflex: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Fire Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Melodak knows that she can't throw the next one like she did the last, instead she lays it on its side, then she rolls it in, into the doorway with the evil things...

She gives it a good shove and slams the door shut.... Bracing her body against the stone.

Help yourselves!" she shouts with a diabolical grin on her face

Day 7, Late Morning, 8/61 (Current Turn/Turn of the Clock)

As Hallister checks, once again, to see that everyone is out, he notices the Goblins are still behind.

Then, just as he is formulating a plan of rescue, involving rope, and a lot of cursing, Miagnic come charging through the door.

The small sorcerer is on fire. And he seems delighted by the situation.

Melodak Second Reflex Save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Melodak leaps up from the ground, dancing from place to place she uses all of her agility to run to the remaining barrel, oblivious to the flames around her. She tips the barrel, gently on its side, being careful not to pop the lid off, and then rolls the flaming bomb through the door to the west, slams the door and runs out of the room

Melodak's Final Reflex Save, to exit the room: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

There is a thud, and the door behind her flies off of its hinges. Sensing the danger, Melodak leaps for the door ahead of her.

Hallister sees the goblin barbarian girl, once again, going after the remaining flaming barrel and for a moment he begins to think, she's out of her mind, more so than she has a reason to be!

When she rolls the barrel into the room across the way, then slams the door and turns to run toward the rest of them, Hallister wonders if she is going to make it after all.

Then Hallaster feels the floor shake, hears the dull thud of the explosion and watches as the door across the way is blown off of its hinges. He opens his mouth to shout a warning. The others, Miagnik, Stephanie, Moralane and Atharessa, shout out as well, and then Melodak leaps.

She sails a few feet through the air, but lands just the other side of the door, in the flames. She catches fire. Hallister reaches through the open doorway and takes the goblin girl by the collar, then hauls her into the room.

He looks toward Windel with an expression that says, “Oh well, one more time.”

Melodak takes 1d6 ⇒ 6 damage, and is on fire until her new friends put her out.

It’s safe to assume combat is over, the flames will die out in a few rounds, the monsters are most likely dead. One quick request, and this doesn’t apply to everyone, just sort of a reminder for some I suppose. Please do try to read everybody’s posts, and mine in particular so that you might not over look when I ask for certain rolls, thanks!

As the goblins try to run/dive into the room Rownig contemplates the situation Just shut the door...no dwarf will fault you, probably get a slap on the back actually. Over his better judgment Rownig stays his hand to permit the goblins through.

Windel making sure Melodak fire is out wiggles his fingers multiple time to thoroughly drench the him. Cast the spell three times on the him. "Guud'n wet...don't want no ember to reignite...now do we."

When everyone catches their breath Windel will cast a healing channel.

channel: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 5) = 7

"May Praggul's blessing be upon us."

When the group decides to rest for the night Windel will cast another channel,

healing: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4

Then again,

healing: 2d6 ⇒ (5, 6) = 11

Hal slumps back against the wall and shaker his head, smiling a bit as Praggul's mercy washes over him and regrows his skin.

Wit' friends like these, who needs enemies?

"Ye goblins're gonna be th' death of us."

Rownig plops down next to Hal exhaling deeply, 'Reckless ,,,they can be," he chuckles as he takes a long draw on his mead skin. Then hands it to Hall, "Lot of danger in this place we need rest tonight." His tone soften a bit, "So,,,what's your thought and you gotta plan worked out yet,"

Hal drinks deep and hands the skin back.

"We need t' find a place t' hole up. That's th' most immediate concern. After tha', I say we put th' goblins in front about twenty paces an' follow behind the trail of destruction until this place is empty an' cleansed."

"Aye that'll work just fine."

Miagnik gave both the Dwarves a hard stare. But he had other things on his mind instead. The fire had danced amiably with him and he with it. The fiery barrels and their explosions had given him inspiration on how to manipulate the flames further.

He smiled again and his stare turned from hardened to pleased.
"Reckless we may be, but you might have had a face full of undead if not for the fire. You should be more thankful."

"Bit'ol warnin' be 'ppreciated...next time."

Melodak's smile is of sharp yellowed teeth... as she grips her weapon, looking at the dwarves. "Miagnik, Do you think that if the dwarves keep it up, we should chop off their beards and wear them so we can be dwarvish and they will accept us."

She reaches over and lovingly strokes Rownig's beard...

Miagnik ponders the question for a moment before discarding the idea entirely. "I think they'd rather see it burn before we wore them. But I couldn't blame them... I would too."

"Tis a nice beard lass, I can see why you'd envy it." He grins, "But the next time y'touch me, you better go into one of yer insanity rages and kill me, cause my axes won't stop till your dead...friend." He stares at the yellow toothed goblin.

Hal bursts out laughing.

Rownig laughs out loud with Hal.

Windel breaks down in belly roll, "Dwarf beard on a gobo...guud one."

Hal wipes a tear from his eye. "None o' us are dead an' a few more walkin' corpses are back in th' grave. I call that a success, even if it was a close call."

"How about we try t' blow ourselves up a little less from now on, eh?"

The princess rises to her feet, desperately wishing she had spent time this morning preparing her spell of mending, as she is currently less than pleased with the shorter length of her robes. Though she is quite thankful that it didn't burn any further.

She has mixed feelings as the goblins and dwarves briefly banter in regards to recent events. The manuevers were reckless and destructive, without a doubt, but effective. Countless times Stephania raises a finger and begins to say something to Melodak, scolding her for her behavior that was so unbefitting of royalty, but holds her tongue each time. Her words would do little good, and in truth she recognizes that she's more offended by the concept of the behavior than what actually occured.

Instead, she finds her owl, and finds a wall where she may sit and tend to their wounds. With a flick of her wrist, and a few careful words, much of the soot and ash is removed. This room begins to smell of sweet honey as well, rather than the pervasive stench of stale alcohol and smoke.

"Thank you, Windel." She marks with a curtsy as his blessing washes over them all.

The surly dwarf bows to Stephanie, then he begins digging through his backback for a semi-clean rag and a screw top jaw. He plops down, unbuckling his armor and removing his horned helm. He dabs the cloth in the jar, then begins to apply it to the helm....meticulously rubbing the soot, dried blood and gore off his helmet. As a luster reappears.

Rownig pulls out a whetstone and a handaxe that he subconsciously twirls before he rhythmically glides the blade's head over the whetstone. Guided by keen eyesight he works the angle just right renewing the edge after a hard day of battle. Once completed he repeats the process with his other axe.

She has mixed feelings as the goblins and dwarves briefly banter in regards to recent events. The manuevers were reckless and destructive, without a doubt, but effective. Countless times Stephania raises a finger and begins to say something to Melodak, scolding her for her behavior that was so unbefitting of royalty, but holds her tongue each time. Her words would do little good, and in truth she recognizes that she's more offended by the concept of the behavior than what actually occured.

Melodak grins at Stephanie, while she strips her armor off for the night, "Why would I act any different because I am Royal? Does royalty fill the belly? or make me any more powerful than anyone else? No. Hard work makes me strong, and that work earns me food with which to feed myself. Royalty is just a word that means someone was rich enough to buy the title at some distant age in the past." Meloday mouths off

Day 7, Late Morning, 9/62 (Current Turn/Turn of the Clock, The approximate time of day is 10:20 am)

The party waits a few minutes for the fire to die down and the smoke to clear.

Cautiously they make their way across the first room, noticing the charred remains of the two undead creatures and the door that was blown off of its supports. They approach the opening in the wall where the door to the western chamber once stood.

Inside the room to the west they find more charred remains of undead creatures, huddled against the western wall. There are what appear to be nests, made from garments, and debris scavenged from the mountain side or taken from victims. The nests are still smoldering. In the south west corner of the room is the blackened remains of a small metal chest. The lid is warped, partially opened and you can see gold and silver coins inside.

One of the bodies wears a necklace of silver chain with a pendant. Some of the links of the chain have fused together, but it has not melted completely. The pendent is made from gold and holds three gems, a large diamond, flanked by two sapphires.

Once you have finished with the room to the west…

How do you measure, friendship?

Duty, loyalty, companionship, what are these things?

In the aftermath of a thing that they will certainly have difficulty remembering the specifics of, a few dwarves, a couple of goblins, and a gnome sat with their backs against the walls on the floor of a chamber, plain, unadorned with even the simplest of features. There were no chairs, not tapestries, no hearth, it was only a room.

It seemed that this place, what was once a labyrinth of tombs for goblin heroes and kings, was more of a maze of secret rooms than anything else. One room seems to be an extension connected to another, which in turn is connected to another, but why? The group now found themselves deep within a series of connected secret rooms and possibly lost, wondering exactly what a goblin mind was thinking when it designed these chambers.

They turn their eyes toward each other, the dwarves and their new friends. A few words are spoken and what begins with accusations of recklessness turns into off hand comments of praise, which then turn into the uncomfortable laughter of people who know that they came closer to death than they will ever want to acknowledge.

It feels as if hours and hours have gone by since the party stepped foot into the wide passageway that was the entrance to these forgotten goblin tombs, but it is still only early in the day. The rest is needed, and comes as a comfort.

Each of them tends to their own needs, a spell to clean away the smells and soot, a wave of healing energy from a blessing of the dwarven gods, a bite to eat, a long drink of ale, and eventually a silence, a silence that is not uncomfortable, a silence of friends who know the measure of the trust they have placed in each other, gradually overcomes them.

Finally, Atharessa, with her head lowered, her eyes closed, says softly, I should have gone with him.”

Moralane sits close to the large dwarven girl and she puts a hand on Atharessa’s shoulder. ”No,” she says. Her expression is serious and full of respect. ”You made the right choice. Mazrim made his own choice. Why are we here, after all? Hallister, Rownig, and Mazrim, they chose to search for answers, to follow the words of the oracle, but you and I were sent with them under orders of our lords, knight s of the realm, and we are sworn to fulfill our duty. You are needed here, we need you, I need you, and I’m sure the others agree. I think the thing we have to do now, now, is take the time to figure out where we are and what we are going to do next.”

The Party rests for eight hours, advancing the clock to 6:20 pm. Turn 57/110, and at this point I will shift the time keeping to just listing the current Turn of the day – Turn 110. If you are not fully healed by Windel’s Channels, then the rest recovers your Level in hit points (plus your Constitution Modifier, this is a House Rule). You recover spell slots and can prepare spells for the day. We’ll start when the party decides where they are going to go after they have rested. Thanks!

After a few moments to reflect on Moralan’s words, Atharessa begins
softly singing a Dwarven song

The ocean sings a lullaby, the wind a voice so clear
And the sons and daughters of the land sleep in their parent’s arms
Blessed and free from fear
Watch over us, the blessed flower of our home
A shelter from the storm
A wall of thorns
A flower of strength and beauty
For with you, and among you, we will be as one
For family and friends, for those of old and those to come
Remember the wind and the ocean’s lullaby
For ours and those we love may the Athara grow
Forever Strong, Forever Together, Forever High

Rownig perks up to a familiar song that he begins to sing softly through bites of breakfast,

For family and friends, for those of old and those to come
Remember the wind and the ocean’s lullaby
For ours and those we love may the Athara grow
Forever Strong, Forever Together, Forever High

He is feeling much better rested, or maybe it was song, his heart was lifted...slightly. He offers Melodak his hand to help the goblin to her feet.

The night before, Windel will detect magic on the pendant and try to identify the object as he studies it intensely. spellcraft: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Hal smiles just a bit and he nods appreciatively to Moralane.

Well said, Lass. Ye're gonna make a fine Lady one day, if'n ye make it outta this.

Then his brows furrowed in thought.

Yer gonna make it outta this. Even if ye are th' only one, I'm gonna make sure that ye git t' go home.

He stuffed his pipe and pulled his cloak around him, enjoying Atharessa's song.

Princess Stephanie wrote:

She has mixed feelings as the goblins and dwarves briefly banter in regards to recent events. The maneuvers were reckless and destructive, without a doubt, but effective. Countless times Stephanie raises a finger and begins to say something to Melodak, scolding her for her behavior that was so unbefitting of royalty, but holds her tongue each time. Her words would do little good, and in truth she recognizes that she's more offended by the concept of the behavior than what actually occurred.

Melodak grins at Stephanie, while she strips her armor off for the night, "Why would I act any different because I am Royal? Does royalty fill the belly? or make me any more powerful than anyone else? No. Hard work makes me strong, and that work earns me food with which to feed myself. Royalty is just a word that means someone was rich enough to buy the title at some distant age in the past." Melodak mouths off

Miagnik listened as he watched the siblings from the royal family, the two of them different as could be, banter on with each other.

True words enough. He agreed in his mind. But are they right? He glanced at Stephanie. She is a an example of what should be expected. Loyal to the throne. Bright, studious, the air of command reaching around her. Regal... almost to a fault. He smiled and looked at Melodak. The fire within him flashed and danced as Melodak stripped down.

It was a different feeling than he had felt before. With Priestess Galinea, it had been nearly overwhelming. Intoxicating. With Princess Stephanie, it was commanding. Impressive even. With Princess Melodak... it was... smoldering, primal.

And yet, with enough strength, and raw power and passion... who could stop you? Fear could motivate just as strongly as respect.

The fire within him continued to dance as he lay against the wall. His thoughts and desires coming together in a swirling mass that lasted until he fell asleep.

I want to be king...

He awoke sometime later to the sound of Dwarves singing. His thoughts jumbled and a strange dream he had been having dissolved. He looked up at the Dwarves and wondered if they often sang songs. It was something he had never really paid much attention to in the past but he decided he liked it.

Rownig would ask Windel to make sure the chest and contents aren't cursed, 'Wiggle yer finger's or chant will you...don't want me fingers ta fall off."

Assuming its ok to check out Rownig would count and sort and count the coin in the chest.