Tadloton Merc Guild: Xanadael's Utopia (Inactive)

Game Master Shadowtail24

Tie's blade cuts the zombie 3/4 of the way through. He slices the rest as he brings it back to him. He takes a step and plants his right foot, swinging his scimitar at the remaining zombies waist.

attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

hit

damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Tie and Jack's attacks both fell zombies, leaving just 2 remaining.

Zombies attack Jack and Askrel.

Attack on Askrel: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 miss
Attack on Jack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19 hit
damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 5 damage to Jack

The zombie throws it's arm at Jack, hitting him on the side of the head and causing significant pain.

Dante runs around the corner and up the main street, approaching one of the zombies at speed.

Begin round 4.

I slip and slide through the rotting corpses and fighting allies, finally finding my way to a zombie. Looking up, I see the Dante guy engaged with it already. Got it surrounded. Nice.

TWF Main: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 1 + 2 = 9
TWF Off: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 1 + 2 = 17
Damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

*sigh*

Ursus thunders toward the next undead and smashes into it with a huge fist.

Punch: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Deftly ducking the swiping claw of the zombie, Askrel drops to one knee using the momentum of his attacker to impale itself on his sword.

rapier thrust: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Askrel, aggrivated by the situation, reprimands the undead villager."Leave her be, or I'll cut you for real next time, you rot!"

Round 4

Jake will be screaming in pain its is the first time he endure such a pain seing his stomach almost half opened.

He will drop his weapon from the sock of the pain, 5ft step back and while one hand hold's his stomach he will cast a CLW: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Round 4 GMPC actions

Payk, Alden and Glifdore take their shots at the remaining zombies and manage to fell them in turn.

Glifdore roars in success. "Right, Alden, Payk, scout around, see if thar' be any more o' dem. The rest of you lot, inside, now. Elf" That's directed at Askrel, "bring the lady. Dante," He pauses, as the armored man is nowhere to be see. "Right, inside then/"

combat has ended

Askrel nods at Glifdore and grabs the lady by the arm. "Come with us. Who knows how many more could be out here."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

He tugs on her as he swiftly heads toward the tavern, rapier still clutched in his right hand.

Well. That was... invigorating. Or something like that anyway. I gingerly step through the puddles of putrescent slime and back into the inn, shaking my boots off as best I can before stepping inside.

The lady follows. Inside the tavern she jerks away and runs to people she seems to know.

Tie wipes his scimitar off with a vessel of water. He wipes it with a grey cloth. He sheathes the blade, looks behind him, then follows the crowd back into the tavern.

As the combat seems over jack will move back in order to reclaim his weapon and will follow everyone back to the house.

I have no idea what just happened, but these undead is this the end of the world as we know it? Are we overrun by undead horde?

Glifedore shrugs, urging everyone into a private dining room an closing the door behind him. "Overrun, I don't believ' so. But ther' have been undead walken the streets fer some time now. When i ferst call'd for help fer the guild, ther' was only one or two undead and they came rarely. Now, well yer can see for yerself."

Wordlessly, the big ulfen follows the dwarf indoors.

"Where are they coming from?" Ursus asks while wiping the gore from his huge fists. "And what would they want with a place like this?"

Glifdore frowns, "Thats what yer here' fer, to help us figur' it out. "

"I'm no wizard", Ursus grunts with a shake of his head. "But I'd be happy to track down whoever's pumping out these walking corpses and pounding them into paste."

"When did it start? What do we know so far?"

"Well at least now the whole 'having a mercenary guild in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere' thing makes sense," I muse out loud, scratching thoughtfully at my beard. That's the key, always scratch slowly and look thoughtful.

"Sooo.... I don't know about you guys... but I ain't know s%** about undead..."

I pause and scratch thoughtfully again.

"Well. I guess I know that they smell bad..."

Genius.

Following the others into the dining area, Askrel pulls a small cloth from his pack, wiping his blade free of putrid gore obsessively, adding in a few mouthfuls of saliva to the cloth until the blade glistens once again.

After the others have said their share, he chimes in, "If this has been happening for some time, where was the guard? Shouldn't they have night patrols or are they so shorthanded that they'd rather let the villagefolk die off? Of course, it would only be the idiots who got killed anyway, wandering about when the undead are lurking."

He takes a deep breath to keep himself from going off on a heated tangent.

"I've been out of town for too long."

Turning to Ursus, he answers the only one of many questions he's at all capable of answering, "I can assure you they're coming from the cemetery. I don't know if your people bury their dead, but here we throw them in the ground and put a big rock on top in their honor." Askrel catches himself being a bit agitated and shuts his trap before he steps on anyone's ego. He just met these people after all and a good first impression is... well probably forfeit by this point.

Glifdore tries to keep up with the conversation. "It started sev'r'l months ago with just one or two undead in da streets, and since then it's been slowly building. The group tonight was the largest yet." To Askrel, "Mayer Thelrin is calling this a danger to the town, and won' let the guard attack them. He feels that if the townspeople stay off the streets, no one be gettin' hurt. One person did get hurt a while ago, but non' recently."

So if we are to find the source of the zombie infestation maybe we should see if there are coming from the same place ? you know tracking etc...

"Aye, Payk tried tracking a few of them once. He managed to find a lost dog, but never found an origin."

Askrel shrugs. "Tracking would take too long. Why don't we just go to the cemetery and look for open graves? I can't think of anyplace else the dead would come from. How did they get here is my concern. Have their souls become restless in the ethereal?" His look of confusion tells it all, he has a very limited knowledge of the undead.

The outside door bursts open, then closes just as quickly. Moments later the dining room door enters and Payk lunges in, followed more normally by Alden.

"Nothing to report Glifdore, the streets seem empty, sir" This is followed by his now traditional mock salute. Payk moves to take a seat. The outer door opens once again, crashing against the shelf behind it. "Oh, and the town guard is here."

Ursus scoffs. "It's a bit late now."

Glifdore doesn't even have time to frown before the town guard is opening the door, with short swords drawn. "By order of the Mayor you are to remain here under guard until a time where he can meet with you occurs. "

Glifdore fumes at the guards in dwarven. He composes himself though, and warns the party members to not try anything, because the guild isn't like that.

The minutes stretch to many more minutes and finally over an hour has past. Glifdore has been glaring daggers at anyone that moves, though Payk has decided to test the leader. He stands and slowly pulls out a dagger, earning glares and rushed stances from the guards. He turns away from though, and starts scratching on the wall..

Captain Payk - |||, Dante - ||, Glifdore - ||, Tie - ||, Ursus - ||, Jack - |, Varian - |, Vince - |

The half elf leans back inspecting his work. He mutters "is that right" to himself more than anyone else, and then adds Alden - | to the wall. Then he nods and returns to sitting, the model of patience.

(3/4)

The mayor finally arrives, though is very casual about placing his cloak on the rack and walking to the dining room. He choose the open seat at the table, though he leans on the back of it rather than sitting.

Glifdore is the one to speak first, "Mayer" There is no respect in the comment.

"Glifdore. I had come done to congratulate and your few friends who had won this mighty battle. I will still do that, though the numbers are far larger than I anticipated." The Mayor pulls out a coin pouch and starts counting coins into a bag. He throws the bag on the table. "There, that's 5 gold a piece, a worthy amount for your actions."

Alden is smiling, but Glifdore snorts. "Five gold, that's not ev'n five per foe kill'd."

The mayor sighs and counts out more coins. "Ten gold per person, happy?"

"No, I ain't happy. I might ber happy if you could bloody tell me why there be undead in the streets, again."

The mayor puts his hand behind his back and gives Glifdore a thoughtful look. "My dwarven friend,", Glifdore mutters than he ain't no friend to the mayor, "The town guard has investigated this thoroughly. We cannot find a reason for the undead uprising, but so far we have kept it in check. The guard has protected the townspeople from all but the rarest of mishaps during this time. But as I've stressed for a while, the town is not safe and it should be evacuated. The Tadloton people are stubborn though, and will not listen to reason. Unfortunately, that is why you will need to disband your little gang here. They will give people a false hope, and then the people will stay, and then they will all be slaughtered. "

(4/4)

Through most of the wait, Askrel sat quietly at the table, his elbows rested on the hard wood propping his chin upon the palms of his hands. For someone who had lived an awful long time, Askrel was grievously impatient in confined spaces and constantly shifted his legs and shuffled his feet, tapping rhythms on the floor. During this time he inspected his new found comrades and mused to himself in thought, all while appearing to be a toddler enduring a long time-out.

When the mayor finally arrives, Askrel remains silent, not wanting to put any strain on the tension between his guildmaster and a town elect.

Will we be dismantled already ? not more than a days work ? Jack fiddle on his foot really not happy of the unfolding events

Ooooohhh. Tension. Something doesn't smell right, and it's not just undead fumes.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Varian does not hide his thoughts.

So you want us? the ones who just slew these things and protected your town? SAVED some of your people caught in the street! to just up and disband because we are giving people hope? Is that not the reason we are here to begin with?

well that and make some money but...

I say better use would be to let us sniff out the reason for these occurrences. Find it, and stop it. Then the townsfolk, and the guards. Will sleep safely!

Varain is a tad flabbergasted.

sense motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

know. arcana: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10 know what type of magic brought the zombles back? my spellcraft check has the same bonuses. Nevermind, not with that rolling. >.>

Fighting is dangerous and it hurs like hell. Maybe we should leave it to the professionals who have been saving the town for weeks before we got here?

Askrel chuckles at Jack's comment. "Yeah. Let's leave it to the professionals. They've done such a great job thus far." He rolls his eyes. "We really should get you patched up, before you bleed out even more." Turning to the mayor he politely asks, "Can we speed this up? My companion isn't looking so well. We'll take that payment anytime now."

Italics represent sarcastic emphasis

I took care of all my bleeding so the carpets won't have to fear anything, But i tell you it still hurts no wounder people says its the worst part in that whole mercenary business second to dying

Askrel, the full allotment of 10 coins each is in bags on the table, free for grabs.
Varian, you're sense motive reveals nothing beyond the standard description. Know Arcanas will not help in this case.

The mayor seems to listen intently to each of you in turn as you speak. "Your merry little band will give the people a false hope, a hope that they can overcome the devastation this small plague will become. With your influence, people will stay, and then die when real hordes of zombies come."

Varian is unconvinced.

so you are saying we should just all run away because some unstoppable horde is coming our way?? Bah! My home town did not become the jewel it is today by hiding indoors when the goblins came. Or running for there lives when an entire horde of orcs descended upon them. No they fought. My great grandfather was the man that lead them some 1500 years ago. Hope was all they had... And a bit of magic. But if they had abandoned hope they would have lost it all.

Varian pauses.

how do you know, or, what makes you think such a thing is coming?

"its been growing steadily larger, what makes you think it wouldn't keep growing?"

I shake my head in frustration. On the surface what he's saying makes sense. But... it seems too easy. He doesn't seem to be scared enough to instantly turn to running like he is. Just... irritated. And obnoxious of course. I realize I'm scratching thoughtfully. Hah! Unconsciously now! Perfect. I'll be a philosopher in no time at this rate.

I walk over to the table and pick up my sac-o-money, still thinking, absentmindedly tucking it in a belt pouch.

The town guard has investigated. Not found anything. But that's not all surprising. Guard in a town this small is mostly going to be bumpkins with pointy things. Kids who wanted to get away from a life of chores and animals and do something that gave them at least some 'authority'. Hah. So it's not likely they'd know much about magic or whatever it is that makes undead. How 'thorough' could their investigation really have been? We've got at least two magic users right here in the room, which is probably at least equal to the number in the rest of the town.

Something's not adding up. Well, whatever. I don't really care. It's up to Glifdore, not me.

jack will follow after the other man and he too will collect the coins

well at least i can buy food and stuff in the trip back

"I'm serious about this, I want you people gone by tomorrow. Good day." With that the mayor and guardsmen leave the tavern.

After the leave, Payk, who had been slowly making his way to the door of the room, smiles. "Those men must share a heavy burden with the defense of the city. Well, it just became a little lighter." He pulls another coin pouch from his pocket and throws it on the table. Even Glifdore doesn't have the heart to scold Payk as the half-elf walks away. Glifdore and Alden both collect their shares and move the the bar proper, already talking of Saro-Kun.

Each player gets 20 gold total.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Nice! More money! I quickly add the new coins to my pouch.

"Sooooo..... that was fun. Zombie invasion, reluctantly rewarded, and now getting the boot. Lovely really."

I sigh and follow Glifdore to the bar, ordering a drink with all the confidence of a man with a heavy purse.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Nice even more gold he thinks to himself as the follow toward the bar

Askrel's ears twitch delightedly at the soft jingle of coins. When the mayor has said his share, Askrel will grab whichever bag he thinks might have the most gold within. "The mayor may be doing what he thinks is best, but he's also a jerk and a coward. There's no reason not to defy him. I'm actually fond of the idea." Askrel carefully takes the time to examine his share of the coins, looking over each coin front and back and polishing each one with a cloth has he does.

perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Ursus collects his share and almost immediately gestures toward the tavern's proprietor. "Mead."

"Nothing lasts", the huge ulfen explains to his disappointed peers.

Varian will pick up his gold.

hmphm. A coward leader. I see no reason to listen to him.

Varian just plays with a gold peice. Running it back and forth over his finges.

Picking up his sack o' coins and placing it in his pack, Askrel reconsiders his words. "I mean, the mayor's likely stressed to the brim with this undead conundrum. I'm sure that if we stay out of his hair and prove that we'll be more help than hindrance, he'll reconsider his dismissal of the guild. As far as I'm concerned, we're not through until Glifdore says so, right? We can operate more discreetly than this, I'm sure. Maybe cut out the tavern meetings and find a new base of operation?" Askrel eagerly stares at everyone as they disperse from the room, hoping his words aren't going in one ear and out the other without a single thought. Hoping to hang a while longer and grow familiar with his new companions, he approaches the bar shortly after Ursus and orders, "Same."

Gee i can't believe i got into this mess, listen to them talking like they were pros or veteran of many year.. Jake continues to drink his beer

Glifdore stops his conversation with Hurin abruptly. "Payk, what's that yer sayin'?"

Payk frowns. "It's what I just told you guys, about Kathal raising the dead in the graveyard. I saw him do it a couple of times." Payk willows under Glifdore's glare. "Dante's been there too! I've seen him watching a couple of times."

Ursus pauses between draws of his mead.

"Wait, you know who's responsible for the undead? What are waiting for? Let's busy him up!"