Space Between II (Inactive)

Game Master stormraven

I had assumed Biter would have to drop rage to Bluff, but it woldnt' exactly take concentration, so we'll go with what we already have. :)

Also throwing up a new post since i've seen the previous rolls

Biter smiles as the bird brings him close… again. His hands and teeth again flash out in a bloody flurry at the bird's body. "HOW I'SING FRIEND RATH?"

Full attack, Raging Bite > Claw > Claw. Including Rage, power attack, and Grappled.
Bite 1d20 + 20 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 20 - 2 = 23
--- damage 1d3 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17.
. 
Claw 1d20 + 20 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 20 - 2 = 31
--- damage 1d6 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18.
.
Claw 1d20 + 20 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 20 - 2 = 28
--- damage 1d6 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17.
.
AC is 20 due to Reckless Abandon.

Rath smiles painfully, "FINE. THINKIN' CHICKEN DINNER SOUNDS GOOD."

With tooth and claw, Biter tears into the creature again. It squawks horribly and flies drunkenly as the goblin rips into its flight muscles. Between the storm, the erratic flight, and the iron grip of the airborne predator, Biter's teeth bounce off the hardened keel. He realises that he's just a bite away from severing a major artery, one that should end this fight.

Next Up... Rath

Levering off the monstrous leg, Rath sends a flurry of kicks into the lacerated breast of the beast but fails to crack the exposed rib.

"Son of a #@$@(&(&-eating @#^&%*# with a *&#$&# of $&(!&(&# on a brick!"

Round: 6

ORDER: Tweet, Biter, Rath

B's HPs: 99|190
R's HPs: 25|110

FULL - FOB

The Thunderbird clamps down on the goblin only to feel his talon forcibly wrenched open by the tiny fighter. Biter pops loose of the 'fist' as a crash of thunder and a bolt of jagged lightning lashes like a cobra towards him. Biter leaps at the body of the bird, catching onto a ragged feather as the lightning flashes below his feet.

The bird screeches and snaps its beak at the monk's head. Rath releases the arrowhead and drops a mere foot - the distance of the rope to where it is wound around his forearm. It isn't much but it is enough to take him below the sharp beak.

Biter is 'hovering' and about to drop. If you don't do a CMB as some part of your action - either on Rath or the bird, you will tumble at the end of your turn. At that point, Rath could try to grab you as you fall past him. It is your call.

Round: 6

ORDER: Tweet, Biter, Rath

B's HPs: 99|190
R's HPs: 25|110

Time to toss, the dice, as it were…

As Biter reaches the apex of his flight, lightning dances across the sky. For a heartbeat the tiny warrior is a black-silhouetted, spread-eagle terror with twin glowing eyes suspended against the starkly-lit stormclouds. His descending flight path carries him over the bird's back and towards the base of its neck. Biter slams into its feathers with a wet THUD and grabs hold, fingers grasping at the skin around the base of its skull as he roars.

"BITER HAS'ING NEVER TO RODE A THUNDERBIRD BEFORE!!! HA HAAA! THUNDERBIRD IS'ING BITER'S NOW! NOW FINISH IT OFF, FRIEND RATH!"

Strength Surge Grapple on the bird 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (16) + 26 = 42.
This should offer an AoO on Biter against his AC of 23. >:D

Rath can only shake his head at the sight of the tiny, crazed, red-eyed goblin straddling the neck of the gargantuan and raggedy-looking Thunderbird - a demented Goblin Valkyrie. He enjoys the moment until the ruffled eagle-head spins round. The beak snaps shut on his friend putting a brutal, sideways V-shaped, bloody groove into the goblin's armor. Biter struggles briefly then begins to pry the beak open.

Fueled by concern and irritation, Rath launches himself into a flying kick at the weakened strut of a rib. His foot shatters the bone with a crunch and forces a horse-length sliver of rib through the bird's heart. Dead before it has a chance to register pain, the head flops sideways, releasing the goblin.

The lifeless right wing collapses and the Thunderbird begins a sickening, gut-churning spin, helicoptering towards the valley floor that is rocketing up to meet them. Rath is spun away from the bird only to be yanked to a hard stop a foot away - his rope bound arm secured to the flailing corpse by the Stone-Biter.

Rath's brain kicks into gear. Even at the full rope length, I may not be able to trigger the sash at the right moment. Too early and the full weight of that bird on the rope will cut us in half or, more likely, overwhelm the magic and drive us into the ground at full speed. Too late... and the result will be the same.

The monk debates trying to pull the arrow free, but with no way to get leverage, it's a fools chance at best. He examines the arrowhead as best as he can given the topsy-turvy spin. There is no obvious weakness in the metal that he can see. Sh!t.

Rath sighs and starts punching at the narrow loop of adamantium holding the rope, all the while keeping an eye on the rapidly expanding terrain below. On the third blow, the loop snaps. Rath laughs in relief and spreads his limbs - the wind sucks him up and away from the plummeting bird.

"BITER - LET GO BIRD!"

FULL - FOB
SWIFT - Exploit Weakness

B's HPs: 46|190
R's HPs: 25|110

Assuming Biter doesn't want to ride this missile down...

Biter hangs onto the Thunderbird's suddenly flopping neck as the body begins its tortuous spin. From a distance, he hears Rath's call and sees the rope between them shoot quickly into the cloud-shrouded sky spinning above him. The yank, when it comes, is a sudden jerk leaving Biter with a handful of large feathers. Stretching out, Biter slows his twirling and watches the bird fall away.

The corpse flops, twirls, and plummets - carrying the clouds with it. In seconds, Biter and Rath are in the calm evening air watching the perfect globe of storm surrounding the Thunderbird fall to earth. Lightning dances along the edge of the clouds. In another few seconds the feathered body slams into the flat, brown terrain. The impact sounds like a clap of thunder as a wave of displaced earth rolls out in all directions. At the same time, the clouds race in and coalesce around the fallen bird before exploding with a final thunderous roar that shakes the sky.

With deft moves, the two sky-divers meet in the air and Biter secures himself on the monk's back. They drift a distance from the Thunderbird's ruin looking for a flat landing spot. They are both surprised to see they are a good quarter-mile from the Volcano.

Elevation: 600'

B's HPs: 46|190
R's HPs: 25|110

The friends enjoy the last few seconds of free-fall as they plunge towards the surface. Rath turns his attention fully to the ground, waiting to deploy the sash until the last possible second.

500'... You can smell the approaching earth

300'... Rath lets the sash spool free

100'... He grips the clasp

40'... : click :

The monk's timing is near perfect. The hurtling figures shriek earthward trailing 50' of rope and a bright red sash. A mere 40' above the ground, they slow and their prone bodies whip upright - hakama and pant legs flaring in the sudden updraft. In seconds, the monk's legs hit the ground and absorb the shock. Two puffs of dust blow up from his foot-slaps.

Rath looks over his shoulder and winks at Biter before mimicking his friend's voice, "Rath was'ing to hit first. Rath wins."

You are standing in the midst of uneven, dry, and dusty plain.

DEX Check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

B's HPs: 46|190
R's HPs: 25|110

Biter shakes his head as he hits the ground, "Notting to even count Friend Rath killing the big damn bird." He grins back at Rath, switching to Vudrani, "He still only counts as one win, though.. regardless of size."

Biter takes a few squelching steps around the monk, shaking each foot in an attempt to free the water inside his pant legs before setting it back down. Biter doenst' seem to realize how ridiculous his little leg-shaking waddle looks as he mutters, "Now'ing Biter is'ing to have to find his bow. Mighting to have been dropping it in the fun of biting the bid damn bird."

Rath watches, with feigned gravity, the odd caperings of his sodden cohort. Yes, we find bow and cut off big damn chicken leg for dinner. But first - only one point for Rath. Friend Biter gave Rath honor of kill... no points for that. So we even til next interesting challenge." The monk studies the surroundings and the second sun working towards the horizon which lights the volcano up like its made of brass. He points towards the impossibly steep mountain. "We came from that way. Bow should be somewhere over there I hope." He swipes the persistent dust from his hakama and sets off in what seems to be the right direction.

So other than the path up the mountain, has Biter seen any signs of civilization?

Biter squelches along behind his long-legged friend. "Maybe Friend Rath and Biter shoulding to find Big Damn Bird Leg first, then. Is'ing to at least know where that is." Pounding water to of one of his ears with the palm of one grey-green hand, he continues, "Also is'ing to figure out where to go next. Biter is notting to think much food is'ng to find on this… um…." he indicates the plains around them, obviously struggling to remember the word 'plain'. "… dust-land. If'ing no cities is close, Biter is'ing to think to move for the forest. Water and hunting is'ing easier there."

You've seen no additional signs of civilization.

Having no better option to offer, Rath agrees. Our heroes stalk over to the Thunderbird's carcass through dust and a blizzard of still-settling feathers. Much of the meat is pulverized and enfused with shattered bones. But a single taloned foot sticks up from the mass of flesh. Biter whips out his sword and neatly cleaves free a drumstick the size of a grown pig. Rath hefts the meat onto his shoulder and the boys head off toward the volcano, looking for a goblin-sized bow in a wasteland of dust...

The second sun is heading for the horizon when our heroes finally stumble across the telltale imprint of Biter's bow in the dusty plain. They expected to find the bow - possibly broken but hopefully repairable. Instead they find only the imprint of it... along with a set of bare human footprints on a meandering course from the open plain towards the a particularly sheer wall of the volcano. It appears the shoeless wanderer took the fierce goblin's bow.

B's Survival (Tracking) 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (19) + 14 = 33
Hand o' Fate 1d100 ⇒ 45

Biter looks back at his oldest friend, the huge drumstick over his shoulder, then back at the footsteps... his grin flashing in the failing light. "Biter is notting to know what this land is, but it is'ing to give us most excellents food and desserts." With that, he sets off at a job after the footprints, obviously intent on recovering his bow.

Should we do some healing up? Might be good in case we run across another local predator. :)

May not be a bad idea... were we going to experiment with your HP and wound points system here?

We can retroactively heal up as needed...

In the dusty plain, Biter has no problem following the meandering human footprints as it proceeds towards the base of the Volcano. The second sun hits the horizon as our heroes track their quarry to the trail's end - a little mud and straw hut with an open doorframe. Weak rushlight shines from the doorway and a thin trail of smoke issues from a hole in the roof.

Rath stops short. He lays a staying hand on his friend's shoulder, if his words aren't enough. "Biter. This is hut from my dream."

Cool I'm down with it. I've been itching to see what it actually does to a game, anyway.
The most recent rules are recorded here.

I'm going to take another look through them. You do the same. Ping me if you have any thoughts, concerns, or questions.

Biter looks up at the hut, "So it is'ing related to the Sorcerer-king? Or just'ing related to your dream somehow?"

I think you each took a crit hit... so let's say you have 50 Injury damage each but the rest was Strain and you guys caught your breath after landing. So you are each down 50 total.

BITER
Cure Mod Wounds Wand 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (3, 6) + 10 = 19
Cure Mod Wounds Wand 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (5, 3) + 10 = 18
Cure Mod Wounds Wand 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (3, 3) + 10 = 16

Total Injury = 50 - 19 - 18 - 16 = -3

RATH
Cure Mod Wounds Wand 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (2, 7) + 10 = 19
Cure Mod Wounds Wand 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (7, 6) + 10 = 23
Cure Mod Wounds Wand 2d8 + 10 ⇒ (3, 4) + 10 = 17

Total Injury = 50 - 19 - 23 - 17 = -9

So you use 6 charges and are back to full health. Since you aren't in combat, I'm not going to require the UMD roll.

Biter looks up at the hut, "So it is'ing related to the Sorcerer-king? Or just'ing related to your dream somehow?"

Rath stares at the hut for a moment before shrugging. "Don't know. Maybe one, maybe other... maybe both. You saw dragon, I saw this. Let's go see."

So, head straight in or some other approach?

Biter looks at the hut dubiously, "Maybe'ing to watch it for some time." He shrugs, "Notting to want to be stupid-fast."

He goes to find a place to hide with some cover, pulling out his waterskin and taking a few drinks.

I figure it's good to give it a number of hours, even if it's after dark, and see if any activity gives them an idea of how many are in there, or what kind of person we may be dealing with.
Perception 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (11) + 15 = 26.
Stealth 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (10) + 25 = 35.

There isn't much to hide behind in this desolate and open plain so our heroes take cover by crouching down on the far side of a low rise to keep watch on the hut. Within an hour, it becomes clear there is but a single occupant - a woolly haired old man in rags and bare feet. He moves around the single-room hut restlessly, talking (presumably) to himself. He carries Biter's bow; its string has snapped. The old man uses the unflexed bow as something of a walking stick.
Then he wraps one end with thatch and begins brushing the pervasive dust out of his hovel....
Then he uses the other end to stir the cauldron of god-knows-what he has cooking over a feeble fire...
Finally, it seems, he looks at the bow as if it might make good kindling to stoke the fire up...

Perception 1d20 + 8 - 6 ⇒ (14) + 8 - 6 = 16 Range

"Hmm... How much you value that bow, Friend Biter?"

Stealth 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (8) + 17 = 25
Perception 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (10) + 17 = 27

Screw it…

Biter jumps up, snatching a fist-sized rock and launching it at the man's fire. "HEY! IS'ING TO PUT DOWN BITER'S BOW!"

Improvised rock throw 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23. A little unclear on range, so apply penalties as necessary, but as he's aiming to hit the fire but not the man, hopefully it won't matter.

Biter's rock arcs through the open door, rings off the cooking cauldron like a gong and augers into the fire, throwing up a shower of sparks. The old man jumps away from the sudden spark storm, capering like a fool.

"WOO HOO! GET AWAY ya Fire Elementals! I don't care what yur name is!" He shakes his improvised tool at the fire, "This is my here... er.... Walkingstick-Broom-Stirspoon-Kindling!"

He doesn't seem to realise that Biter's voice didn't come from the fire and he probably can't see much past the doorway due to the darkness.

Rath hops up, ready to follow Biter's lead.

Biter stunted legs carry him in a saunter across the ground, "NOTTING TO BE IN THE FIRES, OLD MAN! BITER IS'ING TO BE OVER HERE! GIVING BACK BITER'S BOW!"

I'm sure at some point Biter will stop shouting. ;p

Are you kidding? That is half his charm! :)

The old man leaps sideways in surprise and comes out of the hut waving the Walkingstick-Broom-Stirspoon like a fencing foil. "Thugs! Ruffians! Liars! You ain't a Fire Elemental! Yur... SHORT! And this is MY Walkingstick-Broom-Stirspoon. I don't see yur name on it!" He stops about 10' short of our heroes.

Biter doesn't even stop, pointing to one end of the bow as he brazenly approaches, "NOTTING TO HAVE HANE, NO! BUT IS'ING TO HAVE BITER'S CHEWING MARKS ON ONE SIDE! BITER IS'ING TO USE IT WHEN BITER IS'ING TO BE DEEP THINKING!"

Sure enough, on one end of Biter's bow is a section that has definitely been gnawed on. It's his thinking stick. (read: stick he gnaws on when he ponders deep thoughts while taking a squat!)

Facepalm

That should have read, "Notting to have name..."

Ironically, the crazed old man seems to find this compelling evidence of ownership. He examines the chewed end and looks at Biter's teeth seeing some sort of match. He offers a compromise. "OK, Not-Fire-Elemental, I'll break it in half - you get the chewed part. 'Zat sound good?"

Biter offers a surprisingly cool-headed counter-compromise, "Ok, Crazy-man, break Biter's bow. Then Biter break Crazy-man in half - Biter take all bow." He eyes the old man next to the fire, sucking some saliva through his razor-teeth, "Then Biter take broken crazy-man, cook broken crazy-man, and eat'ing broken crazy-man once cooked medium-rare."

The old fellow sobers, "What is wrong with you? You don't go eating people without asking their name first! That's crazy."

Rath looks surprised by both parties. "Hmmm... maybe find solution that doesn't need stick-breaking or people-breaking?"

Biter shrugs defensively, "What?! Old Man is notting to give Biter's bow back when clearly Old Man is'ing recognize Biter's teeth markings!" Biter looks back at the crazy old man, "Old Man is'ing to say Old Man is'ing ask every animal what animal's name is'ing before Old man cooks and eats animal?"

Rath feels as if he's landed in an asylum and he's not sure which side of the cage door he is on. He waves at both men in an appeasing gesture. "OK, OK. So, I am Rath. This is Biter. You are?"

The old man looks as if giving his name will be a prelude to Biter eating him. He shrugs and laughs. "I am Bibiliboabo - Volcano Interpreter."

"Nice to meet, Bee-billy-bow-ah-bow. You see this is Biter's stick and he would like whole stick back. Is favorite stick. Will you take something in trade?"

Bibiliboabo's eye light up and he looks Rath and Biter over carefully, with an occasional, light, poke as if testing something. After a minute, he looks at the massive drumstick the monk is carrying.

"How about dinner and that big clawed foot? I will trade the stick for that!"

Biter's stomach answers for biter... letting out a ridiculously large grumble.

The deal silently struck, the 'Volcano Interpreter' returns Biter's stick to him. A large slab of leg meat is quickly prepared as Biter hews off the Thunderbird's taloned foot. The foot makes an adequate set of chairs and an improvised table for the feast.

Bibiliboabo's diet must be minimal because he tucks into the bird with the ferocity of a baby Goblin. But Biter's appetite will be the substance of legend in long ages to come. He eats twice as much as both men combined. After a quiet hour filled with only the sounds of flesh being torn, there comes a cacophony of belches that rival the volcano itself for explosive volume.

Bibiliboabo sits on the ground twiddling his toes and patting his immensely fat belly. "Now, tell me why you are here. Will you speak with the Volcano?"

Biter, pleasantly intent on picking bones and gristle out of his enormous teeth with a surprisingly large thunderbird bone shard, stops just long enough to look up at Bibiliboabo. He looks confusedly at the man for a few seconds, then over at Rath, then back at the man. He picks up and waves his bow around in an obvious manner, "Biter was'ing to come to get Biter's bow." He continues picking in his teeth with the bone as he sets the bow back down. The left side of his face scrunches up as he works at an especially-stuck piece of dinner between two of his teeth. When it finally comes loose, Biter picks it up between thumb and finger, inspects it closely, throws his maw open wide and tosses it in, quickly followed by the thunderbird bone toothpick. He looks back at the volcano as he munches contentedly, "Notting to know. What'ing does Volcano mostly say?"

Bibiliboabo burps. "Mostly the Volcano says nothing. Sometimes it answers questions to the worthy. Other times it yells and kills everything." He nods as if to confirm his own conclusion. "It is a fickle Oracle."

He scratches his beard. "You came for the stick? That is funny. Sticks are everywhere - even good sticks. Still, there are few sticks here so perhaps that one is very good."

Seeing nothing to lose by talking with the crazy old man, Rath shrugs. "We were searching for a man but got lost. Now we are here."

The crazed man eyes the monk, "You found me. I'm a man."

Rath feels a headache beginning. He shakes his head, "No. Looking for... uh specific man. We look for famous man, Sorcerer-King named Putnapuanti. Not just any man."

Bibiliboabo chuckles and wags his head. "Ha! You will not find him. Putnapuanti is no man. Is there more bird? I could eat a little more."

Biter rips off another hunk of leg, "What is'ing Old Man to mean? Is'ing Old Man to know Putnapuanti?"

The volcano rumbles. Bibiliboabo cocks an ear to listen before shaking his head, "Just indigestion." He watches the goblin tuck into more meat. "I am not so old to know him but I know about him. Putnapuanti was the great Dragon-Lich that slept beneath the volcano. He dreamed he was a man. But the volcano has said many times that Putnapuanti thought he was a man who dreamed a dragon dream. So who can say?" Biter's mind briefly flashes to the skeletal face of the dragon that bit into his chest.