WR Rise of the Runelords

Game Master wicked_raygun

The invisible Bruin peeks his head out and then conjures a globe of golden, glittering dust. He aims it so it misses his comrades.

Glitterdust Will DC 15.

Will DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

The drake shakes his head and ignores the painful spell.

"Damn."

Serolt is up.

Round: 2, Initiative: 24

Serolt ducks and is very pleased when Beromar saves his bacon. He considers taking the time to command Regin to ready an action, but decides his bow is time better spent.

”Thanks Beromar!” he shouts as he shoots.

Bow (cold iron, magic): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 6 + 1 = 25 (point blank) damage: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 4 + 1 = 10 (point blank)
Bow (cold iron, magic): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 1 = 12 (point blank) damage: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 1 = 12 (point blank)

Serolt, I'm assuming you took a 5-foot step so you wouldn't provoke an AOO.

Fly DC 10: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

The Drake manages to stay in flight even after all the damage it has taken. It decides to attack Beromar in response to the heavy hit it took earlier.

Bite (power attack) vs Beromar: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19; miss

The jaws snap on empty air as Beromar shifts out of the way. The Drake flaps its wings powerfully to get additional lift. And it moves 30 feet into the air.

Round 2, cont.

Serolt: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Drake: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Mruf: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Beromar: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Amaya: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Bruin: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Bold are up.

Assuming Beromar gets an AoO for the Drake moving out of his threatend square 1d20 + 5 + 5 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 5 + 5 + 2 + 1 = 31 Damage 2d6 + 7 + 5 ⇒ (4, 2) + 7 + 5 = 18

Beromar casually dodges the Drake's snap and swings his hammer in swift retaliation landing yet another heavy blow and prepares for it's next dive.

Ready an attack should it come in range again 1d20 + 5 + 5 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 5 + 5 + 2 + 1 = 24 Damage 2d6 + 7 + 5 ⇒ (2, 2) + 7 + 5 = 16

Right, I forgot you got your AOO back at the end of your turn.

Fly DC 10: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

Mruf sighted down the barrel of his firearm, tracking the drake across the sky.

Rowl+PBS: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 9 + 1 = 25
dmg: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

With a clap of thunder from Mruf's firearm, the Drake makes a desperate lurch in the air as the bullet passes through its skull. It spasms once and then falls to the ground. It lands with wet thud and a loud crack. The drake hisses pathetically before it simply lies very still.

Combat Over. Go team!

Bruin shakes his head to get the slight ringing out of his ears. He points to Mruf's firearm and says, "What kind of insane wand is that?!"

Thanks to Bero's bodyguard, no one took any damage.

Bruin then turns to look around the camp.

Serolt agrees with Bruin, "That was loud!" he shakes his head to clear the ringing.

"Nice hit though, whatever it was. Clean kill." he smiles and replenishes his arrows from his pack as he puts his bow away.

Beromar eyes the cat warrior sceptically.

I heard stories o things like that. It's not magic is it? Well as long as ye use it to kill our enemies I got no objections...

Then the Dwarven Seargent moves to investigate the Drake readies his large axe and takes off the creatures large head in one fell swoop.

Save that fer the Rusty Dragon!

He proclaims.

Mruf winked at Bruin and was about to answer when Serolt and Beromar spoke. He lowered the firearm guiltily behind the rock he was hiding behind, but was noticeably relieved when Beromar didn't dig deeper.

"Best non-magic wand ever!" he proclaimed, mouth open in a cat grin. "But how are we going to drag that head with us? I think we'd better leave it, and come back for it once we've bearded the Devil in its lair."

Another thought struck him, and he looked around warily. "And who made this camp? Not the drake, right?"

"Good call Mruf, who did make this camp?"

Serolt looks for tracks and other things to clear up the question.

survival/tracking: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28
perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24

Serolt looks around the camp and finds two dead bodies that have been partially eaten. And the bite marks look consistent with the drake's teeth.

The following can be found around the tent.

#Loot
• wand [spellcraft DC 16]
• mwk spear
• mwk splint mail
• potion [spellcraft DC 16]
• potion [spellcraft DC 16]
• scroll of shocking grasp lvl 3 [identified by Bruin's read magic]
• 5 bear traps
• 23 gp

Amaya grins at Mruf. "Some things never change."

As Serolt walks around the camp examining things, Amaya follows closely behind - too closely at times, and ends up bumping into him. "Sorry." She mutters, before tagging along once again, curiously following his eyes.

She finally breaks off to examine the bodies, and closely examines the wand and potion for several minutes.

Spellcraft Wand: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29
Spellcraft Potion: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

Spellcraft Wand: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Spellcraft Potion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Bruin and Amaya looks over the items:

Got ninja'ed there. :-)

#Loot
• wand of sleep (25 charges)
• potion of protection from chaos

Except for the bear traps I rolled randomly for treasure.

EDIT: There were two different potions. I forgot to assign the second one. But since Amaya and I collectively rolled like badasses, I'll make this last one a gimme.

• potion of pass without a trace

Amaya blinks at the items. "They were likely caught unaware." She mutters, judging by the magic items seemingly largely unused.

She stands up from crouching over the items to look over at the Drake. "Guess there was a devil after all." She says to Bruin.

I'm basing all this on my badass roll to identify the drake.

"Hmm. I suppose it could have been the flame drake. Some of the bodies were burned after all. Odd though--the stories I've heard about flame drakes remark them as being, well, bullies. Whenever they claim an area they demand worship and tribute from the populace. They don't normally strike from the shadows. They have too much pride."

Bruin looks at the drake a moment longer.

"It's late. But we're not too far from town. We could camp out here, and then in the morning, we could take just the head back to Sandpoint and have someone cast a spell to speak with the dead. Maybe we could confirm the kill that way. They're intelligent enough to speak to."

"That'll also give us time to bury the bodies. I don't recognize them from around town."

"Oh, and flame drake scales are valuable. We should harvest what we can."

"Well I don't have any shovels, but I'm fine trying to bury the dead in whatever manner we can manage. However, I would rather not head back into town - I'd rather press onward in the morning. I'm also not keen on the expense of a speak with dead just to talk to some big lizard."

"If we can't find our target, and are out of ideas, that's an excellent one to fall back on. But if this devil is driving drakes this close to civilization, I imagine it'll be easy to find." he grins.

"Does anyone have a shovel?" he looks around for some soft ground near the camp. If no shovels can be found, he'll dig with his dagger to loosen the earth and push it away with his hands.

Ye bein too cautious, little one. What does we want to speak with a dead drake fer? Now let us set up camp.

Beromar then begins to claim the drake scales. As he notices that none of his tools will be of great use in the process he looks to Serolt for help.

Survival 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

"Well, the drake flew around, right? Maybe it knows where the Devil is," Mruf suggested. He looked the drake over for anything of alchemical interest he might take.

Then he went over to consider the bear traps. "Maybe we can set these outside its lair, give us the advantage while it's trapped," he said brightly.

Serolt Survival: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

Serolt and Beromar manage to salvage some scales and teeth.

#Loot
• flame drake scales, 15 lbs, 200 gp
• flame drake teeth, 5 lbs, 50 gp

***

The party makes a camp and rests for the night.

Everyone gets the benefit of a full rest. It looks like the party has agreed to simply continue on. I'll roll survival tomorrow to continue us forward.

Oh! Sorry, didn't realize you were waiting on a survival check from me for the skinning...

Serolt turns in and rests easily, aside from a tour at watch duty presumably. He plays with Regin in the morning and prepares for the day.

When everyone is ready to move, he does what he can to track a flying creature...

Survival (tracking): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13

...sadly, it isn't much.

Survival 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

Beromar is no slouch in outdoor affairs and being the leader of this expedition will not blindly follow Serolt's instincts.

Beromar and Serolt lead the way effectively, and the party makes some good headway along the Devil's Platter.

Eventually they find a what looks to be a sort of grizzly land marker. It's a series of bones, feathers, and animal fur shaped into a crude approximation of a leafless tree.

Next to the tree there is an entrance to a descending cave and the remains of a bonfire. There is a stench in the air of cooked flesh, and the unmistakable bones of a human skeleton in the fire.

There are many similar tracks in the ground, going into and out of the cave. It has certainly seen use recently.

Amaya frowns. "They appear to have eaten a person." Holding up her quarterstaff, she points to the cave entrance. "We must deal with them, whomever they are."

Amaya begins moving into the cave, doing her best to not alert the "natives".

Stealth: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Serolt takes out a rod and uses it to cast Shield Companion on Regin. He considers adding a Barkskin to him as well, but holds off for now.

He puts the rod away and takes out his bow. Then he and Regin follow Amaya into the cave. Serolt eyes the ground as well looking for any tell-tale tracks as they enter. If it’s dark, he casts light on the tip of his bow.

Serolt Stealth: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13
Regin Stealth: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (15) + 15 = 30

Serolt Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Serolt Survival, tracking: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Sadly, as he gets going, he stubs his toe and swears with the pain, giving away his position a little.

Any attemptsat an inconspicious entry are thwarted by the clanking of Beromar's full plate and the Dwarf's proud proclemation.

What is ye folks scurrying about like that? We the law in this place!

Mruf snorted, looking for clues as to what had done the eating. Goblins? He didn't think the Sandpoint Devil was going to cook its food and do arts and crafts, from its description.

He followed the others into the cave, Rowl held ready against his shoulder. He held off flicking on its alchemical light, for now, waiting until it became impossible to see without it, even for a cat's eyes.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Bruin winces at all the loud noise. But then sighs and continues behind the others. He casts a light spell on his crossbow so he can see as well.

"Something nasty is down that way. If we find it, and question it, perhaps we can find the Sandpoint Devil, or at least get pointed in the right direction. So let's go."

Beromar needs no invitation to do his job and stomps down the corridor in his full plate.

No word on what the things in here are? Does it take a different kind of roll?

I got the impression you guys wanted to move forward rather than observe anything here.

Mruf was looking for clues as to what lives here when they arrived at the cave. He lingered long enough to look, then followed the others in.

Serolt did a tracking check and perception check to figure out if there was anything to see before continuing in. Shouldn't take much time.

Sorry, I understood that you wanted to check out the cave right away.

Mruf pokes around the ashes of the burnt body. He finds the melted remains of a silver amulet embedded in the victim's chest. It looks to have been a holy symbol of Erastil. It's fused into the chest, and the body would have to be desecrated in order to remove it.

Meanwhile, Serolt discovers a partially melted effigy made out of dried corn stalks. It looks to be winged horse.

Bruin looks at the effigy and says, "Some legends claim that the Sandpoint Devil is a winged demonic horse of some kind. Maybe whoever did this worships the beast. That's not a comforting thought. But it means we're probably on the right track."

Ye mean like the cult o da Sandpoint beast? Well if sometin such still exists, rootin it out and makin sure it never comes back is a good thing!

"I guess if a bat flies and lives in a cave, there's no reason a flying devil can't," Mruf said. "We should come back and bury this body. Do any of you know what ate this guy? I don't think it was the devil, unless it cooks its food first."

Is there any kind of Erastilian death rite Mruf can perform for the corpse, since we aren't going to bury it now?

Amaya narrows her eyes at the body, as if she can intimidate it into giving her answers, before sighing and looking to the others. "If there is a cult worshiping a devil, real or otherwise, it may be part of their rituals. I've heard of similar things before." She looks into the cave, curiously. "I suspect we will have our answers soon."

"Yes, let's return to bury the corpse, without desecration. I can't believe anyone would worship this devil." he grips his bow and is ready to head deeper in, though his palms are sweaty, and he is quite uneasy with fear.

He pats Regin trying to calm his friend, though he's really trying to calm himself.

The party heads down into the tunnel at the base of the Skeleton Tree. The tunnel descends steeply for about 30 yards, but is managable without a rope.

It is pitch black, and so Bruin places a light on his crossbow, which he keeps leveled and ready.

After roughly a hundred feet of natural tunnel, the walls become smoother. It isn't particularly good craftsmanship, but the walls are very clearly chiseled. On the walls here and there are chiseled drawings of bat-winged horse that breathes fire, and depictions of humanoids being tortured in various gruesome fashions.

Area A

The party arrives at a small bridge made of bones coiled in chains. Beneath it is a pit of spikes with a 30 foot drop. And coming from below is the retched stetch of a rotting corpse. A quick peek reveals a decaying dwarf body.

Place yourselves wherever you'd like at the top of Area A.

Perception1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Beromar makes his way down the tunnel observing the change in the walls.

Well looks like this here cult was crazy nuff to make this beast a real cozy little dungeon ey?

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

"A tree of bones, a bridge of bones. I'm really hating the theme here."

"Well looks like this here cult was crazy nuff to make this beast a real cozy little dungeon ey?"

"We're definitely on the right track. That's for sure."

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

Amaya peers over the edge at the Dwarf body. "The right track." She repeats quietly. Narrowing her eyes at the bridge, she considers for a second, before turning to the others. "Perhaps we should move across one at a time." She gestures to her clothing and very few personal items. "I would not object to going first. Logically, it makes sense for one of the lightest of us to test the bridge before risking the others."

"I suppose that means me."

Bruin starts to cross the bridge and then stops in his tracks. He turns to Amaya nervously and asks, "You meant me, right? That wasn't a--"

He watches a look of mild annoyancw cross Amaya's face. He clears his throat and then hurries across the bridge of bones.

He arrives on the other side without issue.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

"Wait a moment!" Serolt cries out. "This bridge is rigged to fail. Look here." he points to the triggers of the trap.

"I think we might be able to fix it up, but that's beyond me I'm afraid. Not that good with such things, I always just set them off."

"We might be able to cross if we keep our load light. Go one at a time as Amaya suggests. Tricky."

He waits to see if anyone can shore it up. (Disable Device DC 20 anyone?)

Mruf should be able to handle the DD

Well good call... Beromar remarksThat woulda hurt...