The Carrion Crown GM Bone Man (Inactive)

Game Master Riuk

ok so im going to post with my into to set the mood feel free to inter act as you want. I have something else in mined to get you all antiquated with each other soon. That is if you don't introduce your self's to each other here... with that lets dieplay

Prologue:

You arrive in Ustalav on a dark and stormy evening. It is three weeks of hard travel that has taken a toll on you but finally you arrive at your fated destination. You need a good meal and perhaps some ale before partaking in a sorrowful event. As you walk to the Inn, a ominous occurrence happens, a bright, white streak crosses the night sky and has stuck a tree behind you. You can almost hear a faint whisper in your ear, warning you to leave while it is still possible.
However, with little common sense, you ignore it.

The townspeople look out of their houses, peeking with mingled curiosity and fear at you. You try to ignore them. A large, black dog runs past you, running to shelter but as the lightening strikes again, you see something disconcerting-it appears the beast as a human arm in its jaws. No, that is impossible, you think and you keep going.

You make your way around a small hill along the road you have been traveling on when finally you see a shabby, dismal building. It may have been a large and proud home in its past, boasting of opulence and comfort but now in the chilling rain and long history of suffering in Ustalav, those are the bygone days. However, a contrasting sign swings softly from a post. As much as the Inn is depressing, the sign is colorful and new. It is a shining beacon in what is otherwise a dreary night. The signs announces the name of the Willows Inn .

You look closer at the old place, there is smoke coming from the chimney-perhaps a warm hearth and you are lucky...a roasted leg of lamb? The promise of warmth and food lures you in like an enticing creature beckoning those with sweet promises. Besides, the storm is getting too treacherous to travel any more. Ravengro should be a few hours away. You still have time. You absentmindedly touch the pocket that holds the two letters that brought you hear. For a moment, despite the good luck you are having, you feel the sharp twinge of sadness at the passing of a good friend.

Once your enter, a middle-aged woman walks up to you with a welcoming smile. She’s a pretty woman with very kind eyes, though the lines on her face betray a life of toil and hardship. She sizes you up momentarily and then pulls you through the threshold.

“Welcome!. Come in. We must get you warm. You’re hungry, I’ll wager. Should still be plenty of room at the table. This rain… must have been hard on that road no? You could never get me out into this no no, not on this kind of night.... Will you have the roast goat or the lamb stew? And we have an assortment of spirits to lift your mood on this cold night. What please you? It’s four silver for the room and three more covers supper and breakfast. So what will it be?”

The common room is not so large as you’d have guessed from sizing up the exterior of the home, but that makes it seem far warmer. There is a large with a sizable fire and a rack for you to hang your rain soaked traveling coat so it can dry. In front of the hearth is a very large, heavy-looking red oak table surrounded by matching chairs. Several of the chairs are already filled with fellow guests at different stages of their meals. Conversations pause as they look over to you.

each of you will enter 1 hour apart,that way even if you were using the same road you could have run into each other ^_^

Removing the wet cloak from his face, Belo Flavatsky lets out a tired sigh.

"The lamb stew, please?" Belo then fumbles with his belt pouch to produce a gold piece. "And I'll take advantage of both room and board for the evening. Um, can you make change?" as Belo holds out the gold piece to the middle-aged woman.

The woman looks at you and waves off the money

"yes but we will settle up in the morning my boy ,sit sit I'll have it out soon why don't you dry your self by the fire..."

She turns and walks in to the back...
And as belo walks up to the fire he stops and realized that the floor creaks with each step.

why did she not make a sound as she walked past herebelo wonders but still he is cold and moves up to the fire

-Posted with Wayfinder

Daniel had taken a winding path through the woods, he had stopped on his way to lay down a lily flower, his mother's favorite, at the remains of a long ago burned house. The rain buffeted the hood of his cloak and his shield. Finally he turned and went down an old trail, forgotten to most of the nearby townsfolk. His boots leaving small puddles as he went.

He walks through the town with his hood drawn but his shield. As always, strapped on his arm.

He spits
hmph, more xenophobic and rude than I remember.

He makes His way to the inn, one of the few places where the owner seemed Happy to welcome strangers.

After the inn keepers loud hello, he pulls his cloak's hood back and nods.

aye, good to see you too. Its been a while and no food, I've eaten already, but a spot by the fire and some of your best spirits would be welcome. he makes sure to get as much mud off his boots as he can before continuing.

As he makes his way to the fire he ignores many of the looks he gets, his ornate breastplate shows several times as his cloak billows as he moves. He sits by the fire and takes the drink in his left hand, which is gloved by rough thick leather with a metal bar laid over his knuckles and a metal arm guard extending up his arm near to the elbow.

He casts a glance around finally a slightly sour scowl on his face as he sees several townsfolk.

Placing the gold coin back in his pouch, Belo moved toward the large stone mantle of the fireplace, noticing a nearly full cloak rack near the fire.

Oh, that's good thinking. Putting the cloaks near the fire to dry. Very thoughtful. Finding an empty ped on the rack, he removed his wet cloak to reveal his semi-wet brown armored coat underneath.

After a few moments warming his hands by the fire, Belo turns to walk to the table, noticing the distrustful eyes of the people at the table.

Ah, Ustalavian hospitality. How I missed you., thought Belo sarcastically.

The other diners moved to make way for Belo to sit (almost too much room to be considered polite), but this is something the young scholar has gotten used to, especially when he living in Cesca. As he sat down, Belo Flavatsky could tell no one was in a mood for conversation, so he thought, Well, I might as well take advantage of the quiet table to do get in some light mediation before my stew arrives.

And with that, Belo closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing to bring himself to a passive mediative state, nothing too deep as to make himself unaware of his surroundings.

Randall Carter opens the door and steps inside out of the cold rain so quickly the breeze barely rustles the hanging cloaks before the door is closed. As the innkeep repeats the greeting which has already become so familiar to some of the guests, he makes no attempt to hide the fact that he is quickly sizing up everyone in the room.

When she finishes speaking he finally turns his attention to her and replies, "Thank you, ma'am. I'll take the roast and the stew, if you don't mind, it's been a very long road. And, I loved a mug of warm cider of you have it... if not, a small glass of your cheapest red wine'll do."

As she glides quietly off to fetch his fare, he strides to the fireplace and hangs his long, black, soaking-wet cloak on one of the open hooks. With it off everyone can see that he is wearing snow-white parade armor with a metal shield about the size of a fist on the left side of his chest. Around his waist is a thick leather belt with several flask tucked into; a flintlock pistol hangs in its holster on his right hip and on his left hang a rapier in its scabbard and a pair of manacles.

He selects the seat across from Belo, who is finishing his meal, and, after sitting himself, says, "I'm sorry for your loss..."

"I'm sorry." said Belo. "Have we met?" Belo ponders the gentleman before him. How would he know about Professor Lorrimor?

"I don't believe so, but I think we may have had a friend in common..." the deputy answers while studying the strangers face. "I apologize for being so forward, but it's often easier to read people when you're slightly shocking, it catches them off guard."

Stretching and adjusting as his weary body settles into the chair, he explains, "You appear to be Varisian, and by your attire I can see you're a traveler--common among your people--but you travel by yourself so I'm guessing it's a personal matter; you're still drying off so I know you stopped recently- in this rain you wouldn't have been out unless there was some urgency; and this road only goes so far... An urgent personal matter in Ravengro makes me think that perhaps you were also a friend of the late professor?"

"Guessing purely by his reaction, I think the gentleman by the fire may be as well." he adds with a nod to Daniel. You're very bad at bluffing, so I figured that wouldn't be hard to notice

At the mention of the man by the fire, Belo looked at the armored man, distinguishing him from the other patrons, as if noticing him for the first time.
Belo turned back to the white armored man across the table. "Interesting deduction." Belo's demeanor turned from intrigued to somber. "He was more than a friend.
He helped a scared young boy through some pretty dark days. Shaking himself our of his memories, Belo said, "I'm sorry. Please excuse my manners. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Belo Flavatsky.

"Deputy Carter," he replies reaching across the table to shake hands, "and, as I said, I'm sorry for your loss. The professor was a good man. I used to provide security for him when he was in Nirmathas. I always looked forward to his visits..."

He trails off wistfully and then seems lost in thought for a minute. When he returns to his senses he hastily adds, "he was generous too... Travel with me tomorrow and I'll repay some of his generosity by providing you some free security."

As his conjured pony begins to flicker from the real, Hector's restlessness waxes back. He had ridden her much harder than the spell intended, and she was phasing out so quick the rain began to fall through her frame. It had been a long, cruel road.

Too many spooks in this country, too many shadows. If they saw her fade out I'd be seeing Professor Lorrimor sooner than I'd like...

Hector scans the wet, morose lands before him, looking for options against potentially murderously superstitious eyes. He hated that He had to use his craft in these lands, but he couldn't afford to spend any extra coins thoughtlessly. He looks up and down the road's horizons several times over, and peers into the warm windows of the run-down inn for painstaking minutes before he scurries the pony behind a grove of trees, allowing it to dissipate back to wherever it once came.

With cowl pulled tightly over his nose, Hector strides into the inn.

This place looks lively... Odd. And most of them are carrying arms, openly. Probably foreigners... Alright Hector, let's not draw any attention to ourselves...

He almost blushes at the keeper's warm welcome. He wanted to be invisible and unnoticed, and now they all saw him, short, small, fat, weary, gaudily dressed. Weak. He just wanted to hide.

Drenched, Hector waddles over to the loud woman and gives her his order through quieted squeaks.

"Ma'am, you wouldn't happen to have any eggs or mushrooms on hand? If you would be so kind to fry all you have from the pantry; and I mean ALL you have, up in some butter and vinegar, I'd pay top dollar and be eternally grateful.... Thank you..."

And so, he sits on the bar's counter, trying to meld into and absorb his new environment with all subtlety.

Daniel watches the man in the white parade armor, as he entered

Hm, he isn't from around here. I'd wager something business, or personal, related. Though in that attire, perhaps both. Neither of them live here, unless they moved in in the last 4 years. But No one ever moves in here...

As the white armored man sits next to the first strange newcomer he strikes of a conversation. Daniel picks up most of it. After he hears them refer to him, he is intrigued.

He stands, his cloak now dry from the past two hours still hanging on his shoulders, then the mention of a past similar to his causes him to stutter for a moment. After recovering he makes his way towards the two, then loudly plops down in a chair next to them.

Heh, you folks not from around here huh? He turns towards the white armored man.

You know that wearing armor and arms to openly won't sit right with a lot of the locals? Folk round here are more Xenophobic than the deepest of dwarven miners. I'd wager you're here on business, or a personal matter dressed like that though. Belo, I've heard that name before. I think the late Prof. Told me of a man he knew named that, something about spirits and being a teacher of sorts? Hope you didn't bring any spirits to this town, may scare the folk here to death. heh.

He takes out a pipe and sets it alight, after a few intakes he offers it to one of the others, his hand still gloved by the rough leather.

Care for a bit?

Just as he was to accept the kind offer from the deputy, Belo was interrupted by the man Deputy Carter pointed out earlier. When the armored man by the fire said 'Hope you didn't bring any spirits to this town', Belo instinctively cringed. Belo quickly looked around the table, hearing the telltale sound of chairs scraping on the wooden floor being hastily vacated.
That Idiot! He's gonna get me hung in the city square for sure!
With a quick clearing of his throat, Belo turns to the deputy and says "Pardon Me."
With that, Belo quickly rises from his chair to meet the uncouth man by the fire. Maybe I can stop him from spouting about the spirits before the damage becomes too great.
Belo then walks over to the armored man by the fire, kneeing down to get in close with him and whispers, "What are you trying to do? Get me burned at the stake!! One does not speak of 'bringing spirits into town' in mixed company, much less within Ustalav's borders!!

The road was not too long from Lastwall, but as always travel seems to slow down once entering Ustalav. Whether it is the air of this country or just the oppressed outlook of its people, Radriel Shadowsbane of Lastwall always finds Ustalav depressing and as a result either time slows down or the road grows longer. They have no fight in them he mutters to himself as he passes downcast face after downcast face in town. The lack of fight and the Ustalavian peoples acceptance of the state of their lives and country is something that Radriel cannot abide. And yet not everyone in this country is like this he reminds himself. The Professor is certainly someone with an abundance of life and courage and fight. Or at least he was. Maybe there are more like him in this country. Maybe there is hope for Ustalav.

And yet as he sees the shabby Willows Inn Radriel can’t help but think of what a proper inn looks like in Lastwall.

Upon entering the Inn, in addition to the expected smells of food being prepared, Radriel surveys the room and finds an interestingly diverse patronage inside, definitely not your typical Ustalavian crowd.

For those that look at the newcomer as he enters the Inn: They see a young man of unremarkable build dressed in pragmatic travelers clothes without any visible weaponry or armor. Just another traveler. The more perceptive will sense an air of competence about him. No, not just another traveler

Radriel sits in one of the few empty seats left by the hearth content to warm by the fire and listen to the surrounding conversation while waiting for his meal.

Vishnya hadn't spent the night at an inn for a long time now. Sleeping outside had been neccesary, and while the cold had sometimes driven him to seek shelter in civilization, he'd been trying to go without, as it was using up his traveling money faster than he'd like.

There was something about the place that both disturbed him and drew him near... Yes. He'd rest here, see what the feeling was about. The gods never sent the signs to him idly, and following such leads were always the right thing to do.

He opens his puoc and grabs his shaded glasses, setting them on his nose to conceal the milky white spots where his pupils would have been, had the gods not seen fit to mark him. With that, he is ready.

Visnya enters the inn, using his staff to feel along the floor to avoid snags and surprises his somewhat cloudy vision might have missed. He jumps a little at the hostess' soundless approach. He usually relied on sound to hear people coming, more than vision, but with her there was only a feeling of... He wasn't sure.

The short man is gaunt and grimy from travel; his bronze skin and foreign cast to his featurs clearly marks him as an easterner.

"Thank you, my dear. I shall take the stew, if you please."

Another reason he avoided staying at inns was the food. While the professor's home country's climate undoubtedly made the hearty meals a neccesity, he could never quite get used to them. Most days, he simply boiled a handful of rice and was done with it.

He sat down besides Radriel, after taking off his outer cloak and putting it on the rack. There was something instantly familiar about the way the other man held himself, although he had not thought he would be seeing it in this country. "Greetings. It has been a long time, since I saw someone else proficient in the martial arts. What brings you here? I am Vishnya." He took his pipe out of the bag, and started stuffing it with tobacco.

His own conversation interrupted, the deputy sits and listens intently to the conversations taking place around him. He silently observes the other patrons, making many mental notes, and examines the common room as he eats, and he eats much more than one might expect for such a skinny man. When the innkeep returns to collect his dishes, he quietly asks, "when was the last time you had more than 1 or 2 guests here on a night?"

perception to notice anything unusual in the room: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

It's relatively full at the moment, with many people gathered in the basement tavern for a drink and a meal. It's clear that they know each other as they sit huddled in small groups, laughing, whispering and very clearly behaving as if they're uninterested in including others.

The inn's owner, and her serving maid, scurries around, keeping mugs filled and patrons happy. You can overhear them talking about this being the first time in recent memory that rooms upstairs have been occupied.

the food taste old and the drink is stale but everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves

A young man sits in the corner and begins playing a mournful, but pleasant tune on a lute. His baritone voice softly fills the room with songs the locals obviously know, as they chime in frequently. As he sings the room seems darker and the hearth flame dies down somewhat, lighting strikes and thunder rumbles outside as the rain seems to increase in intensity

"Cold... Cold... Beastial Frost...
Hunger... Death... Everyone Is Dead Of A Plague...
Night... Gloom... The Moon High Above...
In Darkness They're Heard The Moaning Of The Wind

I Awake
Life's Ended, man Is Dead
Away From Light
On Black Wings Of Death - Forever
My Lifeless Sight Gazed
Beyond The Flaming Horizon
Forever Now I'm Free
From Blinkers Of Fleeting Life.. "

when the last song is sung the lutenist looks up and for one blink all that is seen in his eye are black orbs, then back to there green hue and the hearth fire grows and the room warms again..

for a moment he took on a spectral appearance as he played...others in the inn turn back to there conversations having no reaction the the ghostly look the player had for a moment

As the ruckus begins to swell, Hector tucks himself under a nearby table, trying to get lost, and out of sight. The words sung haunt his mind and even evoke some of the more gruesome memories he'd suffered whilst spelunking. They make his head spin, and he begins to panic.
To panic and ponder.

Stealthing using the Table as cover: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
Knowledge (Religion) to see if these songs are more than just drinking songs...: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

As he listens to the somber, unnerving music, his paranoia commands him to make sure he's unseen, and scan the area for anything... unnatural. Casting Detect Magic, centered on the black-eyed singer. If Hector notices anyone noticing him, he will immediately stop the spell.

Perception (To see if anyone notices him underneath the table): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

As the songs subside, the only thing Hector hears is the blasting beats of his hurried little heart.

Daniel laughs at the mans remark.

friend, the people in this town are as likely to hang you as a zombie is to say hello. No backbone, plenty of fear. Most likely just shun you. Trust me. Besides, they probably fear me more than you. See this scar? A zombie gashed my face when I was young, I'm 'contaminated'. Most the people here wouldn't dare look at me much less speak to me.

As he talks you can sense a growing irritation in his voice.

anyway, would you happen to be that man?

"I dare speak with you, friend," the deputy replies to the armored man, partly to spare Belo from having to answer, "was that unfortunate incident the impetus for your relationship with the good professor?" Then, leaning closer and whispering, he adds, "and what do you know of this minstrel?"

Belo lets out a exasperated sigh, and nods at the scarred man, thankfully Deputy Carter has done his part to deflect the conversation, as Belo was beginning to feel the Tongues come upon him. Belo takes this moment to compose himself, and let the moment pass.

Vishnya thoughtfully takes a whiff on his pipe, and falls into a meditative state. He's searching through the ki, looking for nefarious auras. He usually did not open his sight to those auras, as they were disturbing to watch, and private to the individuals. Still, some prying was surely merited in cases like these. He slowly blows out a ring of smoke.

Detect evil, checking out the room.

hmphm. Might be it was Daniel remarks, withdrawing his hand and pipe.

names Daniel. And you look about as out of place as me call me crazy, many have, but I assume you're Here for the old man too? .

He remarks looking over his armor. He spies the pistol
what is that?

And points to it.

"I was just telling Belo here that I am here on my way to the professor's funeral, as I believe are 2 to 4 other people in the room..." the deputy replies. Then, twisting to allow a better view, he adds, "and this is a pistol, one of the tools of my position, or at least it would be if I could get the thing working..."

For a moment he frowns then remembers his surroundings and reaches a hand across the table to shake, "Deputy Carter, pleased to make your acquaintance, Daniel. And I may be well outside of my jurisdiction here but most folks will tolerate a little weaponry and armor if they know you're a lawman..."

heh, unless you're a lawman around here, not likely. I help keep the town safe from the things out in the woods, mostly wild animals. But I'm labeled strange, and shunned for it.

He takes the offered hand.

" I can relate, Daniel.", said Belo knowingly, and offers his hand to Daniel. "Belo Flavatsky".

@Hector
-you see the lute it glowing with a dark aura

@Zagathoth
-When everyone at the inn sings along with the songs, with the few you can see the patrons eye cloud over with black swirls and once the music is done they return to the conversation as if nothing happened.

@Vishnya Mallick will: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
-when the last song is played you feel a wave of evil so powerful it almost knocked you over with fear

--------------------

the unrelenting rain makes the night grow darker and the host tells every one

"now now my friends i most be closing off with you, i know your wife and children must be missing there father by now."

she said to the one that played

the rest of the patrons ether head out or go up stairs for the night, their foot steps making no noise as everyone moved about the floor.

the man picks up his lute and heads out as the door closes you hear a whisper in your ear

"leave this place...Listen to the lyrics if the songs...and go back home...forget about the doctor...and his family...only death is ahead...go back .....go...back...gggooo bbaacckk..."

and the women comes back to each of you and places a key with a room number on the table and walks into the back room

in the distance you can hear the howl of a wolf before lighting strikes again and the thunder drowns out all sound..you feel the rumble in your chest and a seance dread comes over you as make your way unto your rooms, the floor creaking with each step.

"Greetings. It has been a long time, since I saw someone else proficient in the martial arts. What brings you here? I am Vishnya."
--------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking over the man with the tattered beard and cloudy eyes Radriel can't help but be surprised at this mans claim to be a fellow martial artist, but then again dedication and discipline can overcome many obstacles.

Well met Vishnya. You appear to be a long way from home. I am here for a dear friends funeral.......

The thought and sentence trail off as the song turn weird and malevolent.

Trying to stand up quickly without drawing any undue attention to himself. Radriel scans the room for threats. He is prepared for certain unusual occurrences in Ustalav but this is something else entirely.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

All of the Ustalavian patrons leave. Now it is just an eclectic group of what appear to be travelers remaining.

The room key in hand Radriel looks at the remaining guests. They appear to have been more affected by the strange occurrence than than the Ustalavians.

"Gentlemen," the deputy says to Daniel and Belo, "why don't we retire to my room where we can more freely share our memories of the professor?"

He stands without waiting for a response and walks over to the two graceful but disciplined travelers he has not met Vishnya and Radriel and says, "My apologies for interrupting your conversation. I'm Deputy Carter and I'm on my way to Ravengro for the funeral of the esteemed Professor Lorrimor, as are several other folks here. We're going to head upstairs to reminisce about the late professor and, if I haven't misjudged your purpose here, I'd love for you to join us."

With a nod to the two men he heads over to the fireplace to grab his cloak and backpack. As he walks he scans the room and frowns... where'd that blasted halfling get off to... then turns to see who will accompany him...

lol yes Hector did ghost under the table, lol loved it ^_^

so what dose everyone do go to bed or stay up for a while to get better acquainted

-Posted with Wayfinder

Daniel sits through the song, smoking his pipe. Even when the foreboding whisper echoes in his ear his face remians blank. Its not that he wasn't worried, he just wasn't about to let anyone know it.

As the guests leave he states
there are dark powers here. The likes of which I know not... Be wary, I fear perhaps something caught up with the dear old man.

why can't I keep the chill from my spine?

At Daniel's words, the deputy looks frustrated and shakes his head. He walks back over to the table, leans down, and whispers in Daniel's ear...

Suddenly Daniel jumps with a start. Right after belo finishes whispering to him.

Kendra! She may be in danger!

He runs out the door, looking around for any horse to ride, he will take the nearest one and put it into a gallop toward ravengro as he does so he activates a sunrod from his back pack for light. If no horse is around he sets off at a brisk jog.

perception : 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
The man playing the flute, the dreadful song, the foreboding whisper, directed at the Prof. The cold chill still in his spine. He had to get to kendra fast.

ehh, had to do it. The character called for it /: survival to keep to the path during the storm/night

survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

@Daniel you find a old horse with no bridle and take it possibly robing a poor family of there only means to till the farm on this cursed land but you don't care as you must get to your friend and protect her!!

ride bearback-5 and with ACP-2 total -6 to ride: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (2) - 6 = -4
but as soon as try to get on the horse it moves and...

the horse kicks you square in the face and you fall face down in the mud unconscious.if any one gets you you will have a broken jaw..

I demand a reroll! I forgot the ride check T.T

I demand a reroll! I forgot the ride check T.T

when players forget a roll i roll it thems the brakes kiddo ∋━━o(｀∀´oメ）～→

Belo runs after Daniel, only stopping momentarily to grab his Healer's Kit from his backpack.
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29 to see if Belo can find Daniel in the rain.
If Belo finds Daniel, he makes a Heal check to see if he needs medical attention. Heal: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

SO MANY LULZ

As the locals clear out, Hector, still shaken up (especially after that voice ENTERED INTO HIS HEAD), decides to stay underneath the table for awhile. Once the other overnight guests take their keys and head upstairs, Hector reluctantly crawls out from underneath his table and swipes his key from the barmaid.

..Did I hear those rowdy blokes talking about Petros?

Hector has had a busy night, but his damning interest made him decide to snoop around for a bit. He went up to his room, locked the door, made sure there weren't any unwanted shadows about, then pulled out his spellbook.

Using 1 Arcane Reservoir point to use my Quick Study class feature to reset my Mount spell prepared to prepare the Vanish spell.

Thus, Hector puts his equipments away, locks the windows, unlocks the door, steps into the hallway, and locks the door again. AND THE SNOOPING BEGINS.

Stealth (To move silently in the hall): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24
Perception (Ear is cupped against the wall of the hall, trying to hear the voices of the men talking about the Professor): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

I will take a 20 on the perception check to find where Deputy Carter's room is, if possible.

"Gentlemen," the deputy says to Daniel and Belo, "why don't we retire to my room where we can more freely share our memories of the professor?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Radriel moves to join the Deputy and take him up on his offer curious to learn more about his connection to the Professor. He looks back at Vishnya eager to continue the interrupted conversation with this odd looking "martial artist" Care to join us Vishnya?

"What in the hells?!?" the deputy exclaims as Daniel nearly bowls him over trying to get to the door. "What is that damned fool on about?" he asks to nobody in particular as he heads toward the still closing door. He opens the door up enough to watch the hysterical man run off and strains his eyes to see what becomes of him in the dark...

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Seeing his silhouette slip into the barn, he asks the innkeep, "Ma'am, did that gentleman coming on a horse?" When she informs him that Daniel did not come on horseback, he draws his crossbow and says, "Anyone care to grab a lantern and follow me to the stable? I fear we may have a horse theft in progress..."

He draws the hood of his cloak up over his head and as soon as anyone has grabbed a lantern and come over he heads out into the night...

lol with that natural 20...

The innkeeper says. ..

"well sir, there is only a small barn out t OK the left a good 70 paces down the way. But the only horse in there is an old war horse. I believe that his name is skull crusher. Yes ever since he lost its right eye that horse dose not let anyone close to him unless you have a carrot in hand. ...the last young fool that tried to take him in the night we found dead with a broken neck and two hook prints on his face..."

Shaking her head and with a chuckle she says

"I remember the old soul who owns him said...now what was it...oh! Yes if anyone could take old skull crusher in the night he could have him...you go and see if that young man is alive and I won't tell the constable."

As Randell runs out into the night lighting strikes 6 times and he sees the barn and the bright unatural light coming from the inside...once he enters he quickly comes oppon the splayed out body of Daniel dance down in the mud.

When Randell turns him over its easy to see what happened to him...with a hoof print and a half on his face and Daniels mouth hangs open at in unatural angle. .us clear he will need medical attention and soon of he's is to survive

-Posted with Wayfinder

[ooc]Skull crusher lol.... . And yes I did actually laugh out loud. Definitely enjoying this group.. Props to you bone man [ooc] -Posted with Wayfinder

Skull crusher lol.... . And yes I did actually laugh out loud. Definitely enjoying this group.. Props to you bone man -Posted with Wayfinder

thanks I had fun writing that =^¥^=

-Posted with Wayfinder

hee-haw hee-haw

The deputy wraps his shoulder strap back up into position and let's the crossbow hang by his side. Looking over the distorted face he shakes his head... I don't know what hysteria took you, Daniel, but being unconscious might be better for you right now... I just hope there's someone inside who can put you back together...

He grabs the unconscious man by whatever part of him is farthest from the dangerous steed and drags him back into the inn's common room as quickly as possible.

you drag him back into the in but innkeeper stops you as you pass the threshold

"OH no your not dragging that....AAHH is he dead?!...get that out of here NOW!!!"

she shrieked
if you explain the situation

well...ether way ill not have all that mud on my floor...ether clean him up or leave him outside...ill not hear any argument on this"

"No, no... He's not dead, just unconscious. He will need some attention from some manner of healer though, if I could just..."

When the innkeep insist on cleaning the mud off Daniel before bringing him inside he replies, "Yes ma'am," with a bit of a disgruntled look, "do you maybe have a rag I could use?"

Then looking past her at Belo and the other two men with whom he spoke, he asks "Anyone willing to give me a hand? This'll be a lot easier with two people..."

Belo nods and helps to wipe off the mud. "Once we get him inside, I'll be able to tend to his wounds..privately".
Strength: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 = 8 to see if Belo can assit in bring Daniel inside once cleaned.
And it looks like Belo is no help moving Daniel.

ok, Daniel weighs roughly, 225lbs alone, he has a breastplate and a heavy steel shield, adding about 40lbs more. added onto about 20lbs ish of gear :p and he is soaking wet.

you don't really need a roll for it since you could take 10 and with multiple people helping it's no problem

-Posted with Wayfinder