Hey, Gameplay thread here!
There was no one else on the dirt road as Gormuk rounds the bend. The sun, high in its arc, beats down heavily on the straw sunhat the Half-Orc is wearing. A simple, ragged burlap shirt and canvas pants held up by a dirty rope complete the healers outfit.
A wooden mask - no more than a peice of driftwood with two holes in it by appearances - sits upon the brim of Gormuks hat. The eye holes of the mask are dark, holding shadows where none should be. A large, over stuffed pack is strapped across Gormuks back, next to a large crossbow. At his reopen belt hangs a dented Morningstar and he uses a long spear as a walking stick. A ragged banner tied just below the tip. When a breeze does find it, the word "Doktor" can be seen scrawled in blocky handwriting.
Gormuks hums a rather off tune song as he strolls down the road. Every so often the witch will stop, and scan his surroundings, shrug, then continue onwards, his good eye darting preternaturally fast back and forth.
Arrabar is a rather large city. An ancient city, it is where the Doge sits and directs public policy.
For you, it's a beautiful morning, and birds are chirping from the light forest. The Chondalwood is beyond the town, and you all have to meet outside of the walls of the city. It's easy to find out why, crucifixes have been constructed and they have their share of men tied and nailed to them. Mostly tied rather than nailed. Some are marked with the sign saying that they were wizards.
The smell of death by crucifixion is on the air, and you can hear men crying for water. They are a warning from the Doge, saying that Wizards (or any arcanist) are not welcome in the city. Beyond the crucifixes is the market outside of the city walls. And it is here where you would meet.
Oriseus walked out from the city that was his home and continued into the market where he was to have a meet about a job, his blue cloak newly washed as well as himself (for the first time in weeks). Oriseus was a firm believer that first impressions were important.
This Iron Throne proposition has me on the edge. I have to keep my wits about me while remaining calm. Those bastards are ruthless. Remember, it's all about position and speed. Take it slow and then BAM. Hit them with the 'I want double the cut due to my many times proven expertise. Come on fellas, make it worth my while.'
He turned his lucky coin around in his pocket with one hand, while grabbing and squeezing at the hilt of his sword with the other. He was a bit anxious, or paranoid even, but that served its own purpose.
Soon he was approaching the spot where he was supposed to be, he scanned the area carefully to see who was there and who was near enough to be within earshot.
Gormuk continues his stroll down the road, his humming sometimes breaking out into one or two words of song before returning to the off-tune nasal notes he had been carrying on with for hours. Another bend and the witch doctor found himself coming up on a series of crucifixes adorning the roadsides.
Taking a few long moments to eye the nearest on as he got closers, Gormuk snorts and continues on his way. The thought of aiding one or all of the people adorning the crosses crosses his mind before he quickly puts it aside. Punishing people simply because they possessed some magical ability seemed rather arbitrary to the half-Orc but these were not his lands, and he was no wizard.
Gormuk takes a moment to ensure his doctors flag is prominently displayed before continuing. He then takes out a scratch of parchment to endure he was indeed traveling the right direction before pressing onwards. The meeting point should be just ahead if his contact proved true.
Mister sits on John's shoulder as he walks up to the meeting place. The Eidolon says something to his master, that only he can understand.
"Why do human's leave good meat just pined on a stake like that?"
John shakes his head, "It is not common that humans eat their own kind. Same can be said for Elves and the other high races on this world."
Mister tilts his head, "Meat is meat."
Callanon walks out of the town, averting his gaze from the crucifixes.
It is natural for creatures to be cruel to one another, but when they are the same creatures as me...
He walks up to where a small number of men are gathering, looking at each of the diverse lot. Callanon is a relatively nondescript human, save for half of his left ear missing as a result of apparent violence and a crescent-moon-shaped birthmark on his neck. He wears crude armor fashioned of sewn-together leather overcoat with the occasional carved and seared wooden plate affixed. There is a dagger in a small sheathe hanging from his belt. His has the appearance of a hale, "corn-fed" rural sort of man, and his hands make it clear that he is no stranger to manual labor.
"Hi. You all hired on for the Iron Throne? 'Name's Callanon, but I go by Cal."
The iron throne merchant is waiting by one of the other merchants. His caravan is not set, and he's been waiting for his bodyguards. He burps loudly after drinking from his wineskin. He has a reddish beard, white skin, and brown eyes. His caravan consists of five bactarian camels and three horses.
Sigvald strides out of the city, whistling a jaunty tune while walking past the poor fellows, it is all he can do to stop himself from screaming or running over and releasing them in a frenzy of madness.
Her is wearing a wide brimmed plumed hat, classic sea captains coat, trousers and folded over leather boots, he seems like he should be on a ship not land.
He walks up to the merchants and identifies the iron Throne merchant..
"Ho there, I was advised to report in for a job at this place."
"Yes, you do," he says after burping loudly. He then takes a swig of his swill. "I'm headed to Hlath and then Nun, and then Chessenta. I hired five bodyguards. Where is the other four, are they not with you?"
Dante yawns and stretches as he tries to shake off the ill effects of the previous night's revels. Life in Abaddar as a daring young man was always entertaining. Splashing a bowl of water across his face, he rubs the moisture across his beard and through his hair. Glancing out the window, he realizes the sun is higher than expected. Damn, the sun is already high. I'm going to be late...
Hurriedly, Dante pulls on his garb, straps on his sword, and hoists the rest of his gear to his shoulder. Running out of the inn, he weaves through the back alleys and side streets as quickly as possible until he reaches the walls. Cutting through the gates with a passing crowd, he keeps his head low and averts his eyes from the crucifixes. Just keep moving.
Entering the market, Dante's eyes begin to search. An overweight man with a fiery red beard. Spotting the merchant drinking from a wineskin already, Dante slows his pace and approaches nonchalantly. "Well met, m'lord. I trust you are the Iron Throne's caravan master? The name's Dante Marchioni, I believe you are expecting me."
Turning to the other mercenaries gathering, he smirks, "Ready for some fun, gentlemen?"
"Good day to you gentlemen. I am Oriseus. Oriseus Silvestri."
Oriseus bows slightly holding out his cloak, a gesture which was originally to show to someone that you are not hiding concealed weapons within your cloak, but which is now more a sign of respect and that you have no ill intentions.
"I am here to hear about a certain business proposition that I've picked up on. I believe I have come to the right place, no?"
Gormuk finally finishes his long stroll to the meeting point and slows down as he approaches the gathering mercenaries. They all appear confident enough. Maybe this was not so bad a decision. he will offer a toothy grin and half a wave as he introduces himself. "I am Gormuk. I can keep you all alive if you loose arms. I do not like to fight." Gormuks assortment of weapons seem to refute his statement. "we are here to guard caravan, yes?"
"I'm here. Callanon's the name."
John and Mister walk around the man on the stake. Speaking in demon talk. John looks up to see you all here and switches back to common. "Hey, is this the body guarding job?"
The man burped. "Yes, most certainly. Our final destination is Chessenta," he explained through his drunken haze. "We are going to trade with one of the city states of that nation."
He then said, "So, can you all ride?"
"Not well, I'll not fall of at regular speeds but.."
John nodded, "Yeah, both me and Mister can ride.... Him better than me though."
"I can sit on a saddle well enough, but like he said, if anything crazy goes down, I might fall off. Of course, I believe in this line of work if anything crazy is happening, we'd have to dismount anyway."
"Gormuk has ridden wolf before, but falls when they lunge. These should not be as hard." Heavy responds eyeing the horses and camels.
"Then mount up," he says. "To the Iron Throne, time is money."
He gets up on a kneeling camel and it rises up into the air. He belches another burp before taking the reigns.
Callanon picks a camel as well, figuring they're less likely to cause him trouble.
Dante nods to the others as they introduce themselves. At the merchant's question, he smiles. "Can I ride? Well, I can climb into a saddle and manage along at a trot alright. Though truth be told, I am used to the mares doing the riding..." A big grin crosses his face as he tries to lighten the air.
He then takes the reigns to one of the camels, and uncertainly climbs up onto its back. He ties his pack onto the saddle, then slings his javelin quiver onto the camel's harness alongside it's fore hump. "We are guards, need to be ready to deal with trouble, am I right?"
John speaks to Mister in abysel
John: "Hey, get on behind me and keep me up if i need it."
Mister says, with a little roll of his eyes. "Yes master."
John picks out a camel and Mister gets on behind him.
Gormuk mounts whichever beast is closest to him and falls in line behind the others. His 'DOKTOR' flag making a nice makeshift banner for the group.
"Does anyone know what to expect along the way?"
"Maybe a monster, or two," says the Caravan captain as he finished one of his wineskins. "About the only thing I run into is a band of robbers between here and Nun."
Mister whispers something into John's ear. John laughs, "No, you can not eat anyone who attacks up. Only if they die in the fight."
From the back of the group, Gormuk will begin his off-tune humming once more. His dead eye catching the sun with a dull gleam. "Bandits can be fun. Always seem to be more with spring. Like flowers." Gormuks horse drops a steaming pile. "Or manure."
For the most part the Witch Doctor stays silent beyond his humming, Not instigating any conversation with the others but seems rather opinionated if any questions are asked if him.
"Then lets get this caravan on the road!" says the Caravan master after he snorts.
His camel starts going forward on the Emerald Road.
Callanon does his best to follow, though little effort is needed as the camel is used to following its master.
Dante kicks his camel slightly on the side, spurring it forward. He takes up a position at the front of the caravan, offset to the right, awaiting any trouble that the road may present.
and the Caravan pushes off down the Emerald Way. You are leaving Arrabar behind, following the northern coast east into Chessenta. With Hhlath and Nun being stops along the way. To your south and east lies the Chondalwood. However, the Caravan Master looks drunkenly confident that nothing from the Chondalwood will come out of that forest and threaten the Caravan.
As the day wears on, however, a dusky mist seems to come out of the Chondalwood.
Sigvald gets a bit steadier on the horse as the day goes on.
Seeing the mist rising he says to the group
"I'll ride a little ahead and scout out for any greeblies, listen for my signal whistle for alarm."
Sigvald takes out his signal whistle and rides ahead to check the mist
John starts to sing as we travel. Something about highway men, not many people understand what it is usually.
Callanon looks around for signs of ambush, anything to keep his mind busy and keep him from falling into the lull of riding a camel.
Out of the mist comes warriors. They are armed with swords, elven armor, and staves. Their appearance is that of elves. They are coming out of the woods and closer to your caravan. The master caravaner says, "Oh, great, their early. Time to do your job boys, the robbers are here!"
Even then, the elf warriors ready their weapons.
John starts to summon something.
"Mister, Attack."
"Ai Ai Master"
Mister charges up to the first person and power attacks.
, ,
But all of his attacks miss.
Callanon's form changes to that of a large serpent, sliding off of the camel to the ground.
climb 20 ft;
low-light vision;
+2 natural armor bonus;
a bite attack (primary, 1d8);
can't be tripped
Constrictor: You gain the grab ability and can automatically attempt to grapple a target after making a successful bite attack and gain the constrict special attack (1d8+Strength modifier). You gain the normal +4 bonus on checks made to start and maintain a grapple from the grab ability.
Size change:
-1 penalty to attack rolls and AC
-2 penalty to Fly checks
-4 to Stealth checks
+4 STR
-2 DEX
+2 CON
Attack is now Bite, +2 melee, 1d8+3, grab w/+7 grapple, then 1d8+3 constrict
AC is now 14 (lost 3 armor, gained 2 natural, lost 1 of dex, lost 1 from size)
HP is now 13.
Sigvald will study one of the elves closest to him as his studied target and then cast divine favour on himself.
Hearing the caravan we'd strange words, Dante turns and looks at the man a little puzzled. They're early... As though he knew they'd be coming. Seems too convenient, but damn, the others are already attacking. Questions are for later...
Dropping down from his saddle to the ground, Dante draws his heavy flail with one hand while he throws a javelin at the nearest elf.
You hit the elf. You smash through it's armor and deal damage.
The elves move in to close the distance, still holding their javelins. One throws his javelin at Dante.
hit!
Gormuk eyes the oncoming elves with interest. He has had little exposure to their kind as of yet. He will hopefully down off of his mount, draw his heavy Crossbow and loose a quarrel at the most juicy looking target.
Actions:
Move- dismount draw weapon
Attack-
Miss.