Talanor, the Last Haven - A Journey Interrupted (Inactive)

Game Master Valjoen_KC

Current Date: 5th of Faelis, 7995 E.C.

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Open for dotting


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Dot.


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

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Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Why won't this work?


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With a lurch, the earth moved. A violent shaking of the Dragon Road followed, and Thomas Thorne fell from his horse to the ground. Marcusic leapt from his horse and grabbed the young cleric, helping him to his feet. Another violent shaking and the cracks in the ceiling high above them began to expand. Debris began to fall and voices were raised in alarm. It was an earthquake! Or so they thought.

That was one week ago according to the dwarves. One could never tell time without the aid of the sun. The three companions had arrived late at night at the Mountain Tower of Eastgate and allowed entrance to the dwarven city, but could go no further that evening. Weary from the road and sore from the saddle, even a night in the lumpy beds of the Second Axe Tavern & Inn was a welcome reprieve from their long journey from Haemil. After hearty breakfast the next morning, they took to their horses only to be stopped by the Shaping.

Luckily, all escaped harm but they could not make their way to the Dragon Gate as the road had collapsed. Following the earthquake, as everyone still believed it to be such a terrestrial event, the humans lent aid to the dwarves as best they could. Wounds were tended by Thomas and debris was cleared by Maddok and Marcusic. At long last, dragon road was to be opened and the passage from the Mountain Tower to the Dragon Gate was clear. As they made their preparations, word spread through the streets that a group of Outsiders had made their way through the Lower City of Eastgate. They followed a terrible and dark passage from the Dragon Gate through some of the oldest passages within all of Eastgate, Thomas was told by elderly dwarf that had befriended the priest. The Outsiders had fought fire breathing lizards and goblins sired by the Flesheater himself the rumors said. They had even stood their ground against the Drake, although they were forced to retreat from the masses of evil and vile creatures that swarmed beneath Eastgate.

But none of that concerned the travelers today. With the Dragon road open, they make their way to the far end of the Dragon Road and to the entrance of the Vale of Talanor. Arriving at the gate, they found several dwarven guards standing before the closed steel doors. One of the guards approaches, hands raised above his head asking for the travelers to stop.

"By order of Katadante Ironhelm, Commander of the Dragonguard and Defender of the Eastgate, no one may pass the gate and enter into the city beyond. You can find lodging back along the Dragon Road. And NO, I do not know when Kata will allow travel again.“


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Another obstacle between me and Gunther, Thomas sighs internally. However, it was not the guardsmen's fault who were simply doing their jobs. Likely, the Defender of Eastgate has wise and sound reasons for his proclamation.

Frustration was natural, but he could chose what he actions his emotions fuel.

"I beg your pardon, honorable guardsman. I am a priest sworn to Teysura. I am not looking to dispute the Defender's proclamation, but I would like to offer my services as a healer if the earthquake has harmed any in Eastgate. I bear the Sacred Mother's pledge to succor any who is truly in need. I ask that you convey my offer of aid to those who have the authority to determine whether it is needful."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27 +1 if he/she is either good or evil.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Considering the sealed and warded gates with a furrowed brow, Marcusic waits until Thomas has made his offer of assistance before he addresses the guard. "Sir dwarf, if we cannot pass beyond ourselves, can you at least tell us the why of it? We've heard all manner of stories and theories, but precious little in the way of true facts." The young soldier is careful to be polite in his speech, both because of his status as a guest in Eastgate and because the guard is very likely his superior in rank and experience both. Hopefully, the approach will net a beneficial response to his query. "And, since passage isn't being granted, could you perhaps recommend a good and inexpensive place to stay, someplace that won't bleed our purses dry while we wait?"

Making a Diplomacy check to attempt to improve the guard's attitude toward Marcusic, followed by a second check to get an answer more detailed--and truthful--than the guard might otherwise give.
Diplomacy Check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Diplomacy Check: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

The declaration isn’t welcome but it’s not enough to ruin Maddok’s spirits either. The young lordling’s mother had way enough to see him safely to his destination and the work was painless enough. The grizzled mercenary keeps close enough to grab a hold of Thomas if trouble arose but otherwise remains quiet while the lordling makes his plea to the gate’s surly guards. He didn’t expect trouble from them, dwarves were rarely the sort to take advantage of travelers or expect a bribe for passage, but he wasn’t going to take chances with the young noble’s safety either.

How far back was the closest lodging?


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@Maddok - less than a quarter mile.

The dwarf blinks a few times having heard the offer issued by Thomas. "Oh... um..." he stammers as he looks back at the other dwarves standing at the gate and shrugs. The other dwarves, having not really heard all of Thomas's message, simply shrug back. "HE SAYS HE'S A PRIEST OF TEYSURA AND OFFERED TO HEAL THE INJURED!"

Unimpressed, the dwarves stand still and glare the lone guard who had approached you. "Well, um... you could go to the Temple, I suppose. Klagor could surely..." he begins to speak when Marcusic's question interrupts the awkwardness of the dwarf's remarks. "Why you cannot pass? The Shaping. At least, that is what Katadante and the others are calling it. Much of the world has collapsed into the sky, I'm told. For a week straight, the gates have been assailed by undead. We've successfully repelled them with the Dragonfire... I'm saying too much. You should really talk with Katadante if you'd like his leave to enter the city. We've let a few refugees come into Eastgate... and one of the wizards came from the Tower yesterday. He was the only one that Kata has allowed to leave. But then again, I don't suppose Kata could have stopped him from leaving. Not the way he flew in and out of the upper balcony... I'm talking again too much."


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Thomas gives the nervous and likely young dwarf an encouraging smile. "A wizard you say? Did you happen to catch his name, honorable guardsman? And where might we find this Katadante to ask for his leave to enter? Could you escort us to him?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 10 + 1 = 26

The priest certainly had heard the guardsman say "undead" and "world collapsed into the sky," but he does not have the appropriate scale to appreciate the calamity. Undead were a menace, but one better pitied than feared. The light of the Sacred Mother would free them from their accursed bonds. The other bit of news made no sense at all. How does a world collapse? But clearly something terrible had happened.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

The dwarf's words give Marcusic pause. He'd made at least a cursory inspection of Eastgate's entrance--as much as an outsider could get away with--at the far end of the Dragon Road; though no engineer, his profession prompted at least some interest from him when presented with such an opportunity. If the gates before him were similar construction, then how great a horde of undead would have to assembled to constitute a threat worthy of sealing the gates for a full week? More worrisome still is where the bodies for that horde came from, and how they got as far as Eastgate to begin with, what with the city filling the Vale of Talanor.

The more he thinks on this, the more concerned the soldier becomes. Something is deeply wrong outside, and it makes him more determined to pass through. Reason, however, says that the gates won't be opened for any words of his, no matter how persuasive. So Commander Ironhelm is the only recourse left, if Marcusic doesn't want to sit around and wait. Fortunately, Thomas seems to be thinking along similar lines, already enquiring about a meeting.


HP 17/17 | AC 13/13/10 | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4 Will +3 | Per +5, L.L. Vision 30' | Init +7 Elf Incanter / 3

A long way from his usual realm of living, Denenor was as surprised as any person could be to hear of these new events. The "Shaping? Undead? His familiarity lay not with these localities, so he was unsure if undead were the norm. However, earthquakes were certainly not. And definitely not those that fling land into the sky...

Listening intently to a pair of travelers attempt to pry their way in for passage, the bright elf farmer's curiosity was sparked. Quite a mix in that bunch. I wonder what their story is? The sharp wanderer's mind was always trying to piece things together, but people seemed more complex than nature. The world simply spoke to him, though not with words. These dwarves, even in their short time with him around, had seen his ability to gently sculpt the land with a few caresses from a distance, and it inspired some cross-cultural bond that superseded what usually was a curt connection between the cross-starred races. Though Denenor had sculpted nothing beyond a raised platform for a makeshift sleeping area, in times like these, a small wonder went a long way.

Instead of being a voyeur, the traveler decided to step forward and make himself known.

"For each inquiry of passage you ask, a dozen more await from those stranded here, you of the Sacred Mother." The older elf shook his head. "They surely have heard of such statements - true offers - of aid before and can know hands are willing to help."

This guess didn't stop Denenor from clearing his throat and calling to the dwarves as an aside though. "Though the renowned wheat I have with me, great for brewing, could be helpful too ..."

His attention returned to the priest and his companions. "I've made similar offers to no avail. They're stubborn. At least something is normal."

Denenor's simple clothes and manners didn't yield much insight into his station, but it was clear he wasn't part of any parties with leverage for control of this situation because of that reality. "Are you hungry? If you have anything to share, I've some of the best bread around going stale."

Though his face was unassuming, the open elf had eyes that seemed to be just a touch brighter than the shadows they met.


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"The wizard? Um, Arrangtûn... or something of that nature. He was a gnome, first I've seen. He was very odd... Oh, Katadante? He's likely in the garrison, I would think. Wow, um... lots of questions. I could get get him, I suppose... let me, uh..." the dwarf continues. Turning back to the Dragon Gate, he shouts, "THEY WANT TO SPEAK TO THE COMMANDER. SHOULD I GET HIM?" Without looking up, one of the other dwarves gives him a hand signal, with his right thumb point toward the ceiling. As quickly as the sign was given, the hand was withdrawn and they continued their private conversation.

"GREAT! KEEP AN EYE ON THESE GUYS!" the dwarf shouts back. Their response was quite evident with a universal hand signal telling the lone guardsman to proceed to the depths of the abyss. "Please wait here," he concluded and scurried off through a tunnel on the north side of the Dragon Road.

Giving the group a moment to interact with Denenor.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Watching the dwarf hurry off with a slow shake of his head, Marcusic can't tell if the general conduct of these guards is normal or not. Still, they seem to manage well enough, and it's not as though he's in their chain of command, so it's no business of his how they do things here. Attention shifting to the elf, the soldier examines him reflexively to gauge his status as a potential threat, noting the tell-tale evidence of a practiced archer in the form of specific calluses on his hands (though the bow and packed quiver is what Marcusic's instructors would have mockingly referred to as a clue as well). He looks to be fairly nimble as well--though by training or his heritage, Marcusic can't determine--but otherwise not someone well-acquainted with physical strain.

Making Sense Motive check, via Versatile Performance, to see if Denenor has any hidden motives :p.
Sense Motive (Perform: sing) Check: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16

"If you won't find the taste or chewing involved in military rations to be a bother, then I suppose I could share a few of mine. Though I'll be honest, I'm far more interested in whether or not that wheat of yours has been made into something I can drink rather than eat," Marusic responds cheerfully, even as his subconcious assessment of the stranger continues. Until he knows for certain that elf is a foe, however, the soldier is quite willing to be friendly though. Especially if free drinks are a possibility. Granted, it might be some vile homebrew that'd stun a troll senseless, but then again, it might not as well; only drinking it will tell the tale! "Of course, I won't turn down the bread either, 'waste not, want not' and all, and I'm mighty interested to see, or rather, taste if the truth matches your claim." Now that he's not addressing the guard any further, Marcusic's demeanor--and speech as well--relaxes considerably, and he projects a bluff good cheer that is either genuine or an incredible act for how openly and obviously it is presented.


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

The elf's speech patterns confused the priest. By the time he had deciphered the elf's meaning, the hapless guardsman was already on his way to the barracks. Thomas is quite pleased that his request is being sent up the chain of command, but he was also slightly embarrassed that the elf was so quickly proven incorrect. Regardless of whether it is granted, it would be considered.

"Thank you for your gracious offer. My name is Thomas Thorne. Of course, we would be happy to share. Where three may eat, four may eat also."

Thomas feels doubly obliged to provide offer succor to the less fortunate. As a noble of Haemil, the gods had poured down their blessings upon him. His mother had always taught Thomas that these blessings were to be in service to the people and not advantage the Riders. But even closer and nearer to his heart is Thomas' duty to care for the Sacred Mother's mortal children. Some require her healing grace. Others need an encouraging word, while others still need food to eat.

To each he would provide within the dictates of charity and prudence. This poor elf must have fallen on hard times.


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

After studying Denenor carefully, Maddok gives the elf a slight nod of acknowledgment. He'd met bright elves in his days and even fought alongside a few of them. They were always skilled with a blade or bow, sometimes both, and strength that belied their lean long-limbed bodies. There was an ethereal quality to this one that suggested Denenor wasn't as martially talented as his kin. In this case, that was fine by Maddok.

"Maddok", says the laconic bodyguard.


Dwarven Fighter

A surly dwarf comes lumbering up, clearly tired and spent from many days without sleep. His armor is bent and in need of repairs. Claw marks have scared his breastplate, but he holds his helm proudly and makes a wide grin as he approaches. "So, let me see then, who is in charge amongst you?" Quickly sizing up each of you, he turns to Thomas. "I'm guessing your the healer. You look the type. We're in pretty fine shape here with the priests of Mylesar." He beats his chest three times with a clinched fist. "But I certainly appreciate the offer." His eyes turn to Maddok, "You look beefy, son... what business did you have in the city? It's rough out there and we can't protect you."


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Thomas beams at the dwarf. "Hello, I'm Thomas Thorne. One could say that I'm in charge because my mother, the Lady Alessandra Thorne, hired them to protect me and it was I that led them to Talanor. I'm here to serve the Sacred Mother with Haessen Sigocurt. The guard mentioned something about the undead? If the goddess' grace is not needed to heal the wounded then certainly her light could free those poor souls bound to rotting flesh. In any event, I would both like to reach the temple and help you in whatever way you think best."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27 +1 if Katadante is either good/evil

In Thomas' (limited) experience, a kind word and forthright countenance helped smooth out life's snarls.


HP 17/17 | AC 13/13/10 | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4 Will +3 | Per +5, L.L. Vision 30' | Init +7 Elf Incanter / 3
Maddok wrote:

After studying Denenor carefully, Maddok gives the elf a slight nod of acknowledgment. He'd met bright elves in his days and even fought alongside a few of them. They were always skilled with a blade or bow, sometimes both, and strength that belied their lean long-limbed bodies. There was an ethereal quality to this one that suggested Denenor wasn't as martially talented as his kin. In this case, that was fine by Maddok.

Yet unconfirmed to him, Maddok was accurate in his assessment beyond his knowing. Denenor's heritage showed in his frame - on the taller on thinner side for bones. However, he was clearly no muscular militiaman or scarred scoundrel. His inquiry of food shed a bit of insight into a potential interest of his, a dab of mass on his frame likely from the bread he discussed. The reserves wouldn't be much on other races, but for an elf, there was little place for it to hide. In short, he was only healthy - not Olympian.

The robed man gave a mild smile to Thomas and replied in kind - mostly. "Denenor." No surname was given, and no additional thought to the matter was given by the farmer. He nodded at Maddok's addition to the conversation before digging into his pack and offering them each a collective small-loaf - crusty on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside. He fished-out another from his pack and held onto his half, extending a portion toward the yet-unnamed man. "And you?"

There was something upbeat about Denenor's voice and mannerisms. It was as if there were no problems with the current problems in their pending accommodations. In actuality, the elf was fending off a fear of being trapped. I just want to get back out to the fields...


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

Maddok offers a grunt and sharp nod corroborating Thomas's explanation.

"Is the whole city under siege?" he asks, curiosity piqued.

The hairy guardsman is surprised by Denenor's offer by accepts the morsel with his free hand. After giving it a sniff, he tears out a chunk with his teeth. His surprise and delight at the taste and quality of the bread is visible in his eyes as he methodically chews.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Flushing slightly at the reminder that he'd not introduced himself properly, Marcusic accepts the loaf with a nod. "Marcusic," he offers in turn before catching the bread between his teeth--and noting in passing that is pretty good bread at that--to free his hands. The reason for this is made clear as he half unslings his pack and roots through it come up with a tightly-packed ration bundle which he extends toward Denenor with a questioning grunt.


HP 17/17 | AC 13/13/10 | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4 Will +3 | Per +5, L.L. Vision 30' | Init +7 Elf Incanter / 3

Pleased the acquainting was going well, Denenor accepted the offer by Marcusic with happiness, looking into its contents while keeping open ears.

"Well, if it is under siege, I'll be the first to say I trust in the safety of dwarven buildings. Not their crops so much. That's actually why I'm heading through these parts - showing some tricks of the trade, so to speak, to some people in the region." Denenor's explanation was obviously not a secret purpose unless he was a poor guardian of its formerly-clandestine nature. "Do some good with this time on this world, you know?"

He chewed on some bread while Katadante measured them up.


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"Aye, the undead have been pounding upon our door since the Shaping. Unfortunately, we've had to slay more than I can count; many of whom I knew their name when they stilll had the light of the god's in their eyes. but they were soulless now and had to be put dow," Katadante sighs. "We haven't found many survivors, and those that did arrive at Eastgate we're not from the Temple district. Although, Kaladrym, if she survived, would have been a more likely destination for survives. Perhaps, you'd find 'ole Haessen there. He was... well, I suppose I should say that he is a good fellow."

Katadante lets out a big sigh and once again sizes up the group. "I suppose you could do some good out there... what with the 'ole Lady's hand to guid you. But I'd move quick and decisively. No pandering about. You'd be more likely to get swarmed if you stayed in one place too long!" He nods looking the two men clad in armor then turns to Denenor. "And you, elf! I suppose you're wanting to go with them as well, eh? Typically, I'd have shoved you out the door on the first night... he breaks into a laugh. "But I heard you were instructing the mushroom farmers with a few tips on light exposure, so you're welcome back anytime."

A shout from the balcony's high above alerts Katadante and he snaps his fingers. "Almost forgot, that gnome of Bærwynnd's was here the other day, but he flew off before we got a chance to talk with him. The Alchemist's Guild is low on Oil of Vra'Lithe and have stopped all production of Dragon's Breath. If you can get a message to the Hazard, I'm guessing he may have a stockpile of it and would be willing to lend us some aid." He extends an open hand to Thomas, saying "Deal? I'll give you leave to depart if you give your word that you'll get that message to him."


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

"Of course, sir. My business would take me to the Bright Tower in any event."

The devastation must be greater than I imagined.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Hearing from a higher authority just how bad things are outside is worrying enough that Marcusic bolts down his bread in a few ragged bites, then immediately sets about checking his equipment for readiness; packed sealed and snug in its place on his back, weapons and armor fit for battle. As he looks himself over, he clarifies one point of the Commander's offer. "Speaking for myself, I'll give you my word that I'll try to deliver such a message. If conditions are as bad as you say, and I'm not doubting your words on that point, then such a bargain may beyond my ability to fulfill."

Eyeing Denenor briefly, then the trio's mounts, Marcusic smooths his mustache absentmindedly with two armor-clad fingers before asking of the elf. "Do you have a horse of your own available to use? If Commander Ironhelm thinks moving fast is the proper way to do this, then having you on foot while we ride isn't going to work out well."


Dwarven Fighter

Katadante shakes the half-elf's hand, then beats his closed fist against his chest three times. "Done!" Turning to the lone guardsman that had quietly followed the commander back to the group, Katadante issues a command in the dwarven speech.

"PREPARE TO OPEN THE GATE!" the guardsman shouts. With that, a squadron of dwarves dressed in full plate armor adorned with rubies on their pauldrons mobilizes and stands shoulder to shoulder with shields at the ready. They march toward the grand doors, forming a phalanx that drives suddenly forward as the massive steel doors swing outward into a vast courtyard.

Katadante walks over Marcusic. "Try? I'd expect nothing less from you, Human. Besides, you'll likely not make it out of Oldtown!" With that final word, he slaps the horse's haunches and it bursts forward followed quickly by the others.

I'll hand wave Denenor a riding horse if he doesn't have one on his sheet.

As you breach the doors and enter a vast plaza, you immediately notice the night sky full of shining stars where you expected to see the brilliant sun as you had presumed it to be mid-day in the outside world. The dwarves slaughter several lumbering humanoids whose flesh has begun to rot. Then the smell hits you. A wave of nausea passes over your senses and you look to your surroundings. Thousands of corpses are piled about the plaza in mounds that reach heights of fifteen feet or more. A small lane between the mounds of dispatched undead leads to the far end and the road to Oldtown.

Fort check for everyone.

Fort DC12:
You are sickened for while in the plaza plus 1-4 rounds following.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Tehcnically, none of us have a horse on our sheets :D. But you started three of us out mounted, so there it is.

Fortitude Check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

The scene in the plaza beyond the opened gates is horrifying. Bodies everywhere, parts of bodies. Men, women, children, some mercifully charred beyond easy recognition, others... not. And worse still is the sight of dwarves fighting those who are clearly dead, but moving about with purpose nonetheless. Frankly, the smell--though stomach-turning in its own right--is the least objectionable thing making itself known to Marcusic right now, and he keeps his gorge down with ease even so. He's never seen slaughter on such a scale before, and something deep in recesses of his mind tells him that he'll be seeing this in his nightmares for the rest of his life, no matter what else he sees after.

Frankly, it's almost a relief when Marcusic lifts his gaze to the darkened skies above. Right up until he finally catches on to something that's been bothering him about the sky; the moons are not there! Immediately, he flashes back to the visions that have plagued him for months, and a feeling of dread claws at his thoughts. But this isn't the time or the place for him to lose self-control; with a combination of stubbornness, training, and his scant battle experience, the soldier gets himself under control before he does something foolish or embarassing.

Feat description for cantrips says it's effects are treated as sphere effects in all ways, so I'm going to guess that casting tradition applies as well; Marcusic needs grip a weapon, make a check, and belt out a tune to make it work. And that it can, subject to your discretion, mimic the effects of pretty much any PF spell that falls into the 0-level cantrips/orison category of spells.

If this use of cantrips is approved:
Taking in his companions' own reactions to the plaza's state, as well as the unexpected darkness, Marcusic decides that a bit of support might be in order for them. Drawing his sword in his right hand, the soldier begins to sing a stirring song about remaining steadfast in the face of trouble, magic infusing his words to wrap around and bolster the group and steady their nerves, stomaches, and thoughts just a bit. As he sings, Marcusic walks his mount carefully over to Denenor and offers the elf his free hand with a friendly expression.

Four standard actions to use cantrips to duplicate the effects of resistance (+1 resistance bonus to saves for 1 hour) on Thomas, Maddok, himself, and Denenor. Treating caster level as 1 for the required skill check, so the DC is 16. Perform bonus is +14, and another +2 from tome of epics.

Everyone benefits from this freely, but Denenor needs to accept Marcusic's hand to be counted as one of his allies for other sphere abilities.

Perform (sing) Check: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (10) + 16 = 26
Perform (sing) Check: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (12) + 16 = 28
Perform (sing) Check: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (11) + 16 = 27
Perform (sing) Check: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

"Sacred Mother, what has been wrought!?"

Fortitude: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 3 + 1 = 16

Though his gorge rises, he does not vomit. Thomas clutches a wooden disk engraved with a blossoming cherry tree. Sparks of light begin to spill off of the priest as he intones, "Sacred Mother, turn not your eyes from your children." The sparks become a radiant glow that spills light like a torch from his countenance.

"We should ride to the Bright Tower. Eastgate will need whatever aid the Hazard can muster!"


Bright Tower Maps | Last Haven Table #1 Maps | Last Haven Table #2 Maps

@Marcusic - Looking at the list of effects that cantrips covers and doing a little googling, cantrip effects similar to detect magic, resistance and guidance are conspicuously absent. This isn’t accidental. The cantrip feat doesn’t grant you effects that have a mechanical effect, other than the minor damage ones.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

@Valjoen: Moving this to discussion.


HP 17/17 | AC 13/13/10 | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4 Will +3 | Per +5, L.L. Vision 30' | Init +7 Elf Incanter / 3

Yes, sorry - Denenor would have come with his own transportation.

Not willing to chance his escape with a bad-mannered reply, Denenor nodded positively in reply to the quick-tempered dwarf. And it looks like you'll be rid of me anyway.

Upon going through the gate, however, the elf had second thoughts.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

The macabre scene surrounding them was something out of a horror manuscript. Yet as disturbing as the death and despair around them was, the sight above them held his eyes as he held his nose.

The sky ... what happened?

Day was gone, and it was as if someone was playing a hide-and-seek game with the celestial bodies. Were it not for the overpowering stench and steep loss of profits the greedy guardians were sure to observe in the days to come, Denenor would have thought this a ruse.

The priest may have been saying his prayers, but his head was secured tightly enough to make a sound suggestion.

"Yes, let's get help with haste. If nothing else, the Hazard should at least know what the problem is; that's his specialty." While his speech may have sounded haughty, that was not Denenor's intent; rather, he was too transfixed by the changes around him to spend time making the diction warmer.


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

Fort: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

The stink of the horrors around them makes Maddok groan in disgust. It's so intense that it makes his eyes water, a momentary blessing in that it keeps the piles of bodies from coming into focus.

The absence of daylight and the sky is distressing but the situation becomes much more dangerous when his charge begins to glow like a bonfire. The boy's light kept the oppressive darkness away but it also notified anything with a pair of eyes of the party's presence. Immediately, his warrior's instincts kick in and he readies his cudgel as he rides closer to the young nobleman. "The dead are going to see us coming", the grizzled mercenary warns with a growl. "If the ones the guards are battling here are any indication, we should be prepared for the fight of our lives. Thomas, stay by my side no matter what happens."


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Thomas nods and nudges his horse next to Maddok. His mother had been very clear: "You, my son, are in charge of your company. You set the goals. You decide the priorities. But in times of danger you can and you must defer to the older of the two men that I am sending with you. He will decide how your priorities are accomplished."

"Caution is wise, my friends. But do not despair. There is no wound that Teysura cannot mend. We and the world shall endure, bolstered by her light!"

With a flick of his reigns he guides the horse into a canter that quickens with every hoof fall. They ride. They ride to the Bright Tower!


Bright Tower Maps | Last Haven Table #1 Maps | Last Haven Table #2 Maps

GM Screen:

Initiative
Denenor: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Maddok: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (9) + 0 = 9
Marcusic: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Thomas: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
W: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Z: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (18) + 0 = 18

The group sets off down the Dragon Road as it winds down the foot hills of the Shadow Mountains and into Oldtown of the Vale. As they depart the main plaza before Eastgate, they hear the rumble of the doors to the Dragon Gate closing behind them. With an echo that chills their bones, the doors close. CLANG!

The rotting corpses quickly diminish as the. group moves further from the dwarven settlement. The streets are bare and a cold wind whips through the streets of Oldtown. The buildings, for the most part, look unaffected by the calamity other than the odd broken shutter or an unhinged, broken door. As you make your way further into the city, you slow your horses to a walk noting that the fall of your horse's hooves reverberate throughout the area. Several times you hear the distant moans of the undead, but none have come near you.

The Dragon Road winds down the mountain side and the buildings become more dense. Narrow streets branch off the main road with archways and dark alleys everywhere. Your horse begins to get more fearful at every intersection you pass.

Ahead you see a large sign dangling from a single chain above the door to a large establishment. The sign bears a stagecoach below a large capital "D". As it sways in the wind, a high pitched squeak groans.

Know (Local) DC12:
This is Dâvee's Stagecoach Inn. An establishment that dates back thousands of years. It's wine cellars are renown for being vast. The current owner's family acquired the tavern nearly 400 years ago.

Violently, the door bursts open and a lie bent figure ambles out. The flesh of this walking corpse is rotting and putrid, its body skeletal in places and its eye sockets glowing with red light. It sees you and begins to move forward.

Know (Religion) DC13:
The lone figure from the building is a wight. It will slam into an opponent and drain their energy (levels).

The attention of Denenor and Marcusic is then drawn to the alleys north and south of them. Two other figures shriek as they turn to engage.

Know (Religion) DC11:
The two other undead are zombies.

A Street Fight Outside Dâvee's

Thomas <-- UP
Marcusic <-- UP
Denenor <-- UP
Red & Blue
Maddok
Black

Status: None

New Map!


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Knowledge: Religion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Thomas is no necromancer. He knows not what horrors are these. All he knows is that the dead should not be walking.

"Come no closer, you poor wretches. Fall back from the glory of the Sacred Mother!"

The light that pours forth from the priest's countenance brightens considerably . . . it almost seems as if the undead that approach are being rebuffed by the goddess' radiance.

Thomas is spending a spell point to use Repelling Light, naming the undead type. All undead must make a will save of 14 to approach and must continue to make this save each round for as long as they are within 35'. They can however, move away from the source of the light.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Ixos & Feral tag-team, back together once more :p. And hopping into the command slot by story fiat, no less? Sneaky, lol.

Before the fight:
With none of the others looking as though they need the help of his magic now that they've had time to adjust, as best as they can, to the horror and profound wrongness of what they're experiencing, Marcusic brings his song to a conclusion. He's about to say something, but finds himself cut off by Thomas' abrupt actions, and is left to groan in aggravation before hurrying along after. Nudging his own mount to catch up to their overly-enthusiastic leader, Marcusic addresses him with a somewhat annoyed expression. "Begging your pardon, sir, but maybe you'd see fit to drop back a bit and let someone with proper armor take the lead? Especially since we don't have a single damned idea of what might be waiting for us out here? Teysura's light is very nice and all, but unless it has some special properties against the consequences of springing ambushes and the like, you need to be in the middle of any formation, not at the head." Addressing his nominal superior in such a fashion is something Marcusic really shouldn't be doing, but letting him ride first into trouble would be a right mess to explain to the Thorne family, especially if their scion didn't survive it.

At times like this, Marcusic wonders to himself if the price paid for being able to reach the place so prominently featured in his visions is worth it. Nevermind the backs he willfully stepped on--to say nothing of the other, less honorable actions taken--to get noticed to begin with, all of which will surely come back on him eventually. But having an inexperienced civilian in command? Oh, that is trying the young soldier's patience and sanity in all sorts of new and exciting ways, especially when the noble clot rushes forward like this! At least there's some consolation in that the armsman, Maddok, has his head on straight, and apparently has the authority to rein in Thomas when the latter gets a bit too enthusiastic.

Fight:
Riding firmly at the party's head, Marcusic finds the journey through the ruins an eerie, disturbing experience. No one sign of life is seen by the foursome, though death's presence is palpable all around. The soldier keeps his sword in hand and ready at all times, and laments that he's not properly trained yet with the shield slung across his back, because right now he really wants the added protection it would offer.

The undead appearing to bar their way is something of a surprise--and Marcusic can't stop the momentary flare of satisfaction at being proven right--but not a true ambush, thankfully. Even as Thomas unleashes Teysura's light against them, the soldier is noting what identifying features he can make out and matching them against a surprisingly large and varied mental catalogue of information to identify the three creatures.

Knowledge (local) Check: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Knowledge (religion) Check: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

"'Ware that one," Marcusic calls urgently he points toward the figure from the building. "It's a wight, and its touch can drain you to a husk! The others are zombies, and they're dangerous enough, but definitely the lesser threat here." With those words, the soldier raises his sword and fills the intersection with a song that raises the spirits of himself and the others, calling them to give battle to their foes, to strike without mercy or fear.

Standard action to begin raging song--+2 morale bonus to Str and Con, +1 morale bonus to Will saves, -1 AC--and not applying any rage powers. Using the Tribal Rhythm feat to attach a totem to the song in the same action, and then spending one spell point to activate Totem of Courage--+1 morale bonus to attack rolls and saves against fear--which will remain in effect for as long as the raging song does. The Squadron Commander feat increases the totem's benefit by an additional +1.[ooc]

[ooc]The raging song is a voluntary effect for concious allies, and the Totem of Courage affects any who accept the raging song.

Perform check to activate Totem of Courage at CL 3, for a final DC of 18

Perform (sing) Check: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34

Party Modifiers:
+2 morale bonus to Str
+2 morale bonus to Con
+1 morale bonus to Will
+2 morale bonus to attacks
+2 morale bonus to saves against fear

-1 AC


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Feel free not to have accompanied us from Haemil. Never would I want to overstep my bounds . . . peasant. :-p

Thomas smiles gently at Marcusic. "The Sacred Mother's light does hold many mysteries. Some can protect against foes. There is also the practical reason that our horses need to see where they are going. It will not do to have our horses be lamed in the dark. Fear not. I shall not be galloping ahead, and I'm grateful for your concern."

While men leap to obey the lady Alessandra, and do so with much less back-talk, her son is much gentler as a leader. He believes that explaining his reasons will invite trust. And while he was a Rider of Haemil, he was no lancer to go charging forth into the enemy lines.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Fie on you, Marcusic is no mere peasant! His family is proper, long-serving military stock, thank you, no sod breakers or s@!$kickers here!

Before the fight:

Giving Thomas a flat look, Marcusic digs into the pouch at his belt, draws forth a brightly-lit stone, and sets it to circling under its own power around his head. "There we are, sir, the horses can see just fine, and you'll be nice and safe behind me too, we're all winners." Marcusic's tone is dry enough to evaporate water, but much less biting and annoyed than it was moments before.


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

I think your time would be better spent posting for the combat we are in and which you are up for.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Already did, actually. My big post up there was edited to account for the fight.


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Thomas (and likely Denenor) will not accept a Raging Song because "While under the effects of inspired rage, allies other than the skald cannot use any Charisma-, Dexterity-, or Intelligence-based skills (except Acrobatics, Fly, Intimidate, and Ride) or any ability that requires patience or concentration." My version of spell casting would require some manner of patience and skill. Skald is a neat class, but unlike the bard it doesn't play well with mixed parties.


HP 19/27 SP 4/7 MP 6/6 Song Rounds 10/13 | AC 19/10/19 (21/10/21 w/shield)| CMD 14 MCD 14 | Fort +4 Ref +1 Will +4 | Per +7 | Init +0;
Class and Skills:
Sphere Skald 3 | Acro -1, Bluff +9 Climb +3, Inti +9, Perform +14; Dailies:
Combat:
30 ft. (20 ft.) | Melee +5 (b) Melee +4 (f, h) Ranged +2 (k) CMB +4 MCB +3;

Yeah, kind of figured that for raging song, which is why the war sphere is so nice, I can still hand out buffs without turning my allies into foaming maniacs :p.


HP 17/17 | AC 13/13/10 | CMD 14 | Fort +1 Ref +4 Will +3 | Per +5, L.L. Vision 30' | Init +7 Elf Incanter / 3

During their time preceding the assault, a sadness crept into Denenor's outlook, overcoming the revulsion after a spell. Was this an attack? Surely all these people had not wronged their murderers... It occurred to him one more attached to society such as Thomas might have a deeper understanding of what political malice - if any - could have been at work here.

The bickering of the trio he'd joined added just a touch of levity to make the journey from sinking into utter despair altogether. At least some of us have the glow of life left.

Know(Local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

Know(Religion): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Know(Religion): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

Though that glow was given a pale hue at the artist's recognition.
That's the Stagecoach Inn I've heard about! How could such a merry place be the target of such hatred? It was then the undead made their hostile advance, almost as if seeking to cull Denenor's line of thought. We'll have to fight them.

Unlike the mercenaries, being a farmer, Denenor was not accustomed to traveling with weapons out. He spent some seconds hefting his bow from his back, though he did not notch an arrow. He'd only ever used it to hunt, and he knew these things - while their spirits had been extinguished - had once been people with lives all their own. Whoever did this needs to be made to answer for it!

That anger did not let him slip into a blind rage but instead steeled his resolve. Rejecting raging song. No harsh feelings, but Denenor would lose essentially all his abilities by taking it. "Careful!" He grabbed the Thomas's shoulder. "I can call a passage through the ether to place you on the roof of the inn. Can you take advantage of that?"

If Thomas agrees, Denenor will teleport him to a roof within close range (I'm assuming the inn is one of the adjacent buildings). If not, Denenor will warp himself to the corner of the structure between the red and blue undead (nearest Marcusic).


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Thomas shakes his head. "No!"

A Rider of Haemil would only leave his horse behind under great duress.


Male Half-Elf Cleric (Blossoming Light) 4 l HP: 32/32 l AC: 10/T: 10/FF: 10 l Fort: +4, Ref: +1, W: +7 (+9 against Enchantment) l Init: +4 l Per: +12; Lowlight Vision l Movement: 30

Earlier

The priest stiffens at the blasphemous implications of the other man's words, but then he relaxes as his smile turns sad. "If you lack faith in me, then take faith in Teysura. It is her light that guides and protects us. There can be no substitute for that radiance."

It is not the first time that Thomas had borne an insult and it certainly would not be the last. Much of his life has been spent bearing the snide remarks, subtle insults, and constant second guessing of his choices of the other Riders of Haemil. At least Marcusic insulted him to his face. It is worse when he knew that people more clever than he were insulting him in ways he could not fully grasp. But that is the way of any court: to offend, without giving offense.

He is more troubled by Marcusic's insult to the goddess. Thomas breathed in and then breathed out, blowing his anger and frustration away. The goddess forgives. In her eternal life, she had borne worse than this by far greater. Yes, the goddess forgives even her most wayward children and so shall I.


Bright Tower Maps | Last Haven Table #1 Maps | Last Haven Table #2 Maps

GM Screen:

W: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
ZombieB: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
ZombieR: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
ZombieBlueSlam: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
ZombieRedSlam: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Moving this along, I'll allow Denenor to retcon a different standard action if he chooses. For now I'll assume he teleports himself to the rooftop.

@Denenor - You get 2 additional question on the zombies if you'd like. You do recognize that they are fast zombies and therefore are not staggered.

Marcusic bursts into a dark song of destruction and war he brandishes his sword while the half-elven priest explodes in a burst of light and ethereal power trying to dissuade the creatures from apporoaching. But the young disciple of Teysura waivers ever so briefly in his resolve, and the creatures continue to advance undeterred.

Denenor wedges his horse between those of Thomas and Maddok, grabbing the priest by the vestments and offers an ethereal trip to a greater height! With Thomas declining the ride, Denenor heeds his own inclination and gets some room from the attackers.

The zombies amble forward and without hesitation attacking the group. The zombie wearing the tattered blue trousers flails at Marcusic without effect while the other zombie, with the red apron, has a similar result against Thomas.

Note: Thematically, it makes sense that all of you have combat trained horses except, Denenor. But for the purpose of the play test, I'm going to assume everyone's horse is trained. You will all get the +1 bonus for attacking from higher ground.

A Street Fight Outside Dâvee's

Thomas <-- Decision
Marcusic
Denenor
Zombie (Blue)
Zombie (Red)
Maddok <-- UP
Wight

Status: None


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

It appears we can't edit the map presently. Maddok is stepping E.

Maddok holds his shield aloft and concentrates, allowing divine power to flow through his veins briefly. He quickly shapes that power and directs it west, calling into being a thin wall of shimmering violently churning water on his western flank blocking the wight's path. The barrier is translucent and the water within has an ethereal quality to it but it proves incredibly solid to the touch.

Spending 2 spell points to conjure a greater barrier and sustain it without concentration to block the wight. The barrier has 30 hp and has a break DC of 26.


Bright Tower Maps | Last Haven Table #1 Maps | Last Haven Table #2 Maps

@Maddok - Walk me through this, cause Im getting differrent values from you. Ward(Barrier): "A barrier has hit points equal to 4 + your caster level and a Break DC of 15 + 1/2 your caster level. " So that is 5hp and break DC of 16 since you're caster level 1. Then Greater Barrier: "In addition, when creating a barri- er, you may spend an additional spell point to increase its Hit Points to 10 per caster level and increase the Break DC by 10." So, that is 15 hp and break DC of 26.

Map is open to editing


Male thoradorian minotaur ranger (wild hunter) 5 [ HP 63/63 (0 NL) | AC 18 Tch 12 FF 17 | Fort +8 Ref +6 Will +5* | CMD 25* | Init +1 | Perc +8 | Effects: none ]

Derp. I failed to note that I don't have full spellcaster progression. Would it be okay for me to trade out my gift for magic trait and pick up practiced spellcaster? That would bring me up to CL 3 again.


Bright Tower Maps | Last Haven Table #1 Maps | Last Haven Table #2 Maps

No problem. We're all still learning this system. But can you point me to Practiced Spellcaster? I can't seem to locate that trait.

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