Samen Vloe Firenze |
This'll do.
Samen grins as flirtatiously as he can manage. "Still abroad... Did you know what awaited me on the fourth level down? You could have warned an el. As for tshala, I have no idea what it is, but it sounds splendid. Care to teach me how to play?"
Hubristic Efreeti |
Taking 10 with your natural dexterity is enough to ride competently
Iniga, in the sudden plunge into shadows and foliage, you suddenly appreciate how well-maintained the dirt road has been. The brown pogonas handle it well enough, choosing a path above and around roots, branches, and bushes that seems almost supernatural.
Here on the wet side of the Horned Mountains, a rainy autumn has not been entirely forgotten. The undergrowth smells more of moldy leaves than frost. Smaller wild pogonas scurry away from your noise, and some watch from bare branches with dumb chameleon eyes.
all: anyone who is taking any active patrol today, go ahead and roll a percep check please
Hubristic Efreeti |
Samen, the ele raises an unamused eyebrow at your grin - you are entirely unsure if it is because you failed, or because you succeeded. She begins to explain the game as if nothing happened.
"Do you have anything small on you? Marbles, seeds, beans, that kind of thing? You'll need a big handful for your game pieces." Her deep brown eyes dance around your pack, as if trying to search out where you will look first.
this doesn't have to be anything written down, this can be just a cool narrative thing - you know best what samen might have in his pockets.
Iniga v'Breda |
Iniga precasts Heroism and Heightened Awareness, spells that she was certain would last for much of the patrol. She didn't expect company but she did believe in being prepared in case she ran into something.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 7 + 2 + 2 = 14
Wamblee Firenze |
"My thanks. I am interested in these games, and may attempt them."
*************
Wamblee keeps his senses trained on his surroundings.
Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23
Hubristic Efreeti |
Two intelligence checks Samen
this is stolen heavily from the real game Mancala, I make no claims to originality with the game
her first int check: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
The rules of tshala are simple - dig out twelve small holes - a line six on your side, and a line of six on your opponent's side. There is also one slightly larger pit on your right (your home space) and one to your opponent's right (their home)
She draws a quick diagram for you in the dirt.
X oooooo
oooooo X
To set up the game, put three seeds (or what have you) in each of the small pits. On your turn, pick a single group of seeds from your line and "sow" it. That is, pick up all the seeds, and starting with the space to the right, put one seed in each hole, proceeding sinistral until you run out of seeds. You will often end up putting seeds in your home space as well as some of your opponent's spaces.
(there are a few other small details that make the game interesting, but for now narratively it is a game of patterns and trying to walk between short-term gains and long-term "sowing".)
Hubristic Efreeti |
Iniga, a candle or so goes by on patrol. Margherita calls for a quick rest. She seems more at ease, away from the camp. "Come on, let's have a drink and a bite."
After you've settled down on a nearby log, she says, "I'll tell you, that priest is starting to drive me crazy. He thinks that since the Temple is paying the bill, he gets to tell us how to live our lives." She swallows a piece of ashbread. In a deep voice that sounds vaguely like the priest, she says, "Not so much drinking! Not so much gambling!" She scoffs. "We're doing a good job out here, protecting his culo, and he doesn't even know or care. I swear, I will be so glad when this job is done."
Iniga v'Breda |
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Iniga nods her head in agreement. "If it makes you feel better, I think I drive him crazy just by being near him. You should have heard his condescending tone when he addressed me - incredibly rude"
Iniga nudges Margherita for a moment with a smirk. "That priest couldn't find his own culo with both hands! He hasn't told me how to live my life, and if he does, then I'll tell him to kiss my culo. I think religion is important, but certain aspects of a deity are going to be more relevant for different people than others. As a priest he should be respectful of that. He should also learn to swing a sword - or be respectful of those that can and choose to keep him safe"
Iniga sips a drink for a moment. "Do you want me to have a word with him? I'm not part of your group, therefore I'm not getting paid so I can speak to him as an individual. Or maybe I can hold his arms behind his back while you smack him" she finishes in a teasing tone.
Hubristic Efreeti |
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the days pass peacefully...
Samen, you and the strange ele--whose name is Ogala--sit mostly silently, staring at seeds. Ogala--who actually prefers Oga--has taught you the rules of the game. They were simple, really. And yet.
samen intell: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
And yet the subtleties of the game elude you for quite a few sets. And grand sets. Still, it passes the time nicely.
Oga wears simple hunting leathers, stitched all the way down her arms and legs, ending with fuzzy pelts at her wrists and ankles. She has two golden rings on each hand, none the same finger, and of course the hoop earrings that she loves to jangle. If you are far enough away from camp, they are the only noise aside from the wind in the trees. Like chimes.
You play on.
---
Iniga, you had almost forgotten what it was like to be part of a unit. The camaraderie - it was something you missed without realizing it. These are all good els and eles. You ride patrol, and talk with them about their plans for after Winter Meet (which include escorting the priest back to one of the three ifrit cities, but little else)
Martino grows a bit in skill under the tutelage of Margherita and yourself. He boasts a few times about wanting to see 'trouble' before reaching the Winter Meet.
---
Wamblee, Odakotah fills the conversation, regaling you with great contests of spear and strength in years past. He also mentions that contestants of astounding skill are sometimes rewarded with a boon from the gathered chieftains.
---
Samoon has good enough social skills that taking 10 a few times will eventually get the priest to say something on accident.
Samoon,during the second day of the priest's habitual breakfast rambling and complaining about the mercenaries, he says something that catches your attention. "...of course, that's why I couldn't tell them what's really in the wagon. As the Rove Voce says, 'Only those pure in their hearts, impurities melted...'" He begins quoting several pages from the ifrit holy book. He does not seem to have noticed what he said.
Marianne Faithless |
It is Dimday, Witchrites the 12th.
It is mid candle.
Marianne, done with her morning patrol, gathers up all of you for lunch. "Wow, I can't believe how fast the days go when you can never get enough sleep. So...how is everyone? And...what's our plan at the Meet? Try to find more mercenaries to hire?" She looks down. "We don't really have enough gold to do anything though. I mean, how are we supposed to do anything about all this crazy stupid stuff that's happening?"
Iniga v'Breda |
"Cheer up, I'm good friends with some of the mercenaries with this caravan, I'm sure I can try and find some more friends. I'm sure that there are also opportunities to earn some coin at the Meet as well. Lets actually see what the Meet holds before being pessimistic about our options" Iniga remarks simply.
Wamblee Firenze |
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"Odakotah spoke long and cheerily of the games at the meet, and prizes that might be granted by awed chieftains. I would participate. Perhaps a show of skill and might may draw others to our cause, or at least grant us hearing."
Wamblee seems to have a slow-grinding excitement built up in him.
Wamblee Firenze |
"Hah!", Wamblee chuckles - actually chuckles - at Mar's quip.
And still grins slightly when Samen chimes in.
"Then we can practice breaking their heads. Though we have had quite a lot of that."
Samen Vloe Firenze |
Samen nods grimly. "Too much, brother. What do you suppose the odds are we're going to see ol' squishy-face back from the dead again?"
Wamblee Firenze |
"High. Unknown, for now. And my own question: how do we stop him coming back for good?"
Samen Vloe Firenze |
"If I can finish this spell and darkspawn are in fact some form of elemental, we might be able to get a jump on him.
Barring that, we'll need a shatter-proof, acid-proof, hermetically sealed jar to capture him in. He can't respawn if he's not dead."
Wamblee Firenze |
"Perhaps the alchemists would possess such a thing, or could make one?", Wamblee offers with uncertainty.
Hubristic Efreeti |
this is a conversation during the previous week
Samoon, the priest looks up at you absentmindedly, as if he had forgotten you were there. "Lust, gluttony, foolishness, and all that Volcano despises. All that the weak flesh corrupts. And then we are left with true ifrits, strong, brave, and civilized. As Volcano intends us to be." As he continues, he speaks in a cadence suggesting that this speech has been repeated many times.
Hubristic Efreeti |
as for the current conversation, Samoon has a high enough knowledge of alchemy that 1) given time to buy materials, he would be able to make a sturdy but temporary containment for Erret, and 2) he would need to go to Light to figure out how to make a permanent container for a powerful darkspawn / dark worshipper
Marianne Faithless |
Seeing Iniga's expression, Marianne says, "We're talking about the crazy dark worshipper that's been chasing us since...well, since this whole thing began I guess. We were fleeing from him the very night after Father's funeral."
She looks at you hopefully. "I don't suppose you've got any spells or weapons that can burn up spawn?"
Wamblee Firenze |
"There is something else to discuss, of more immediate import. One tradition we could make use of is to bring a trophy to display as we arrive at the Meet. A handful of brave warriors can hunt in Forest, seeking a worthy earthen predator to hunt. I am for it, to make an impact when we arrive. What say ye?"
Wamblee thinks about where such a predator might be found swiftly.
Survival: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25
Marianne Faithless |
"Yes! That will liven things up around here!" Marianne jumps up and claps her brother on the shoulder.
I will update later tonight on the assumption that at least Marianne and Wamblee will go hunting sometime "today" or "tonight" in game-time.
All: please let me know if you are going hunting or not. Also to all, please narrate your morning routine - same as it has been for the last week? Different in some way?
marianne+favored terrain+track: 1d20 + 8 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 8 + 2 + 2 = 21
two results above 20, pretty good! Will update with info later tonight
Samen Vloe Firenze |
"Sounds like a good time for you outdoorsy types. While you're doing that, I'll keep working on this spell."
Samen will continue keeping to himself when not on-duty. Embarrassed by his poor performance at tshala, he does his best to avoid Ogala, lest she suggest a rematch.
Iniga v'Breda |
Iniga’s expression clears somewhat an the explanation. ”I might know some spells that might be useful against the dark spawn. I’d need to learn what typically would be most effective first - but I can probably study up in useful spells just in case we run into him again.”
Probably not hunting - instead working on the mercenaries. They never did answer my question as to whether they wanted me to intervene with the priest.
Samoon Firenze |
"Allllll right, then," says Samoon, somewhat loudly, but perhaps still to himself. "We're going to make these flasks. Smaller ones for Spawn. Larger one for Erret. No point in making a big one without testing it on the Spawn. The Winter Meet, and then we're off to Light."
And then we get some answers, he thinks. I don't think we'll get answers from anyone, or anything, until we speak to Erret. The Deathless Valleys, those fickle elementals...which reminds me...
Samoon spends some time in contemplation of his surveyor's staff.
Why are my brothers gradually gaining some strange elemental powers, and I am not? Wait...
"Marianne..." He calls over to his sister after the hunt.
Samen Vloe Firenze |
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Hubristic Efreeti |
Samen, you have officially learned the spell!
fast-forwarding past the short combat - good survival checks mean wamblee and marianne found the beast, and wamblee's tough skin would ward off a good chunk of the damage.
Wamblee, take 20 damage (this is post DR, which reduced it a fair amount
---
It is eighteenth candle.
Wamblee and Marianne come back to camp several candles later. Wamblee is dragging a load behind him, using a makeshift sling of branches and vines. He is covered in claw marks on his arms and legs - each wound shows four parallel, jagged gashes. Marianne is unscathed.
Within the sling lie the cracked, defeated remains of an earthen bear, easily eight feet long.
Marianne Faithless |
"Yes, brother? Come to congratulate me on helping Wamblee with some fine sport?" Her eyes are bright with the excitement of the hunt.
Wamblee Firenze |
Wamblee soldiers on, lugging the carcass behind him.
"Should any of you run into an earthen bear, try not to get clawed.", Wamblee says with the barest hint of a smile.
Samoon Firenze |
"You had to run off without me," says Samoon with a mild complaint and a wink. "Probably afeared of my skills with the bow."
He grows more serious.
"Marianne. You've been more connected with the land than the rest of us. I've seen all the...changes...elemental things..." He gestures vaguely at Wamblee, her, and wherever Samen is off crouching muttering at spells. "And, you know...Bree..." He shakes his head. "But not me. And I'm no atheist nor muttering skeptic here. Yes, I focus on my formulae, but I know elementals and the Dark are real. I hold out hope for Sky."
He takes a deep breath, then sounds rather meek. "Why...am I not undergoing any sort of changes? D'you suppose? Not that I want them, necessarily," he says, sounding arch and unaffected.
Marianne Faithless |
Marianne shrugs. "Sure, Wamblee's turning into a rockier version of himself, probably thanks to that crystal turtle or whatever that smoky soith called it. And Samen's weird crazy woodcut is making him do weird crazy things."
She indicates herself. "But nothing has really happened to me. In fact, I felt drained, like not myself anymore, for a few days after windy soith-face left my scroll. Since then, whenever I conjure lightning for my bow..." She hesitates, unsure of how to phrase it. "It's like ever since Bree died I've been so angry I'm stealing it from the gods, stealing it from Sky!" She finishes with a shout.
Realizing her outburst, she smiles shyly. "So I would not say I'm engulfed by elementals anymore than you, dear brother. Maybe your staff just doesn't like you?"
She catches you looking at her falcon eyes. "Oh Sky- I mean, oh cac! I forgot I've been changing too!"
Hubristic Efreeti |
Wamblee percep: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (2) + 11 = 13
Samen percep: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Marianne percep: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Samoon percep: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Iniga percep: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11
no one got a 15? I must be cheating somehow
The snow, which has been falling gently all day, begins to fall much harder. Fat flakes fill the air, dancing and twirling before they fall silently to the ground.
Iniga goes off to talk to the priest. The priest's expression sours upon catching sight of her. His mouth opens, and-
A blast of arctic wind, straight from the far north, hits the caravan, rocking wagons and startling elens. The visibility plummets as the heavy snow seems to merge into a thick white curtain.
And within the snow...a large creature looms...or was it just a trick of the light?
Hubristic Efreeti |
Iniga, the shadow is real - a bulky shape, resembling a frost covered boulder, rumbles into the priest's wagon, knocking it over.
The Firenzes hear a loud crash from somewhere up ahead, but there is no way to tell exactly what is happening.
Roll init! Surprise round over!
Visibility is only fifteen feet. You know roughly where the other wagons are (directly in front of you is the merc wagon, and the priest's wagon in front of that, then all the oread wagons (you guys are in the back)
Iniga is positioned near the priest, the rest of the PCs were hanging around their own wagon
Wamblee Firenze |
Initiative: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12
Samen Vloe Firenze |
init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
High Servant of Volcano |
Iniga, a huge stone yak, easily ten feet tall at the head, walks out of the snow storm, right next to you. The boulderous hump of the creature is covered with thick, hairy moss. Cold sapphires, perhaps the size of an elen's fist, glimmer in the depths of the eyes. The tips of its horns are rimed with frost...
gore: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
damage: 2d8 + 8 ⇒ (4, 5) + 8 = 17
- and one of those horns plunges through the priest's shoulder. As the creature pulls back, the priest falls to the ground. He groans, still conscious. The yak bellows loudly; the sound is like the grinding of ancient glaciers.
Iniga v'Breda |
Iniga triggers her Raging Song immediately at the sight of the huge stone yak, drawing her sword as she does so.
I'll also slightly move 5 feet or so (if I have to) just to keep out of range of its full attack.
Wamblee Firenze |
@Iniga: Who is being affected by Raging Song besides Iniga, if anyone? I'm not familiar with it.
Hearing the bellowing of the stone beast, Wamblee thunders through the snowy night with assegai in hand, hoping to reach the beast swiftly.
Full move towards yak
@GM: I don't think Wamblee can reach the yak this turn. If he can, he will charge it instead. Either way, he will ready his assegai for a AOO.
Assegai: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 8 + 2 = 25
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
Assegai: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
Assegai: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
High Servant of Volcano |
Everyone that can hear Iniga may choose to accept the effects from round to round. Iniga, would you mind posting what the exact effects are?
Wamblee, perception check with a +2 'stone' circumstance bonus (listening to the stone creature comes naturally to you) to try and pinpoint the yak in the limited visibility
Wamblee Firenze |
Perception: 1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 11 + 2 = 16