Thank you for that reminder..
Marak returns the warped bones of yet another Thassilonian victim to the burial site he chose for the others, on a hill over looking the sea, within sight of the lighthouse and the community, but out of the way of lanes of commerce.
To another soul, he apologizes in the tongue of his ancestors for whatever horrors he endured at their hands, before placing him in the ground, and commending his soul to whichever powers he served in life.
He has felt the wisdom of the ages growing within his own bones, and knows that Nethys has blessed him with the ability to commune with the shades of the dead, but he is unsure if his curiosity is enough of a reason to call upon such magics. The timing of this gift from Nethys seems portentuous, but perhaps it is a test?
He could fail such a test by using such magic to merely sate his curiosity, and not to genuinely attempt to set the spirit to rest.
And yet, Nethys is not a squeamish god, perhaps he would fail such a test by shying away from exercising the magics available to him in the pursuit of knowledge?
Whichever, the shadow of guilt for his ancestors misdeeds weighs heavily enough upon him. If he fails, it will be a failure of omission, not of ambition. He turns the soil over the bones, and settles the grassy mat he cut away before digging back into place like a plug, before releasing a wash of positive energy, repairing the damage he inflicted to the wild grasses before leaving this impromptu graveyard behind.
Nice work. We should have a funeral for Nathaniel before we undertake any more missions. I am certain that all of us will give heart-rending eulogies.
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Marak will offer rites to the Chel as well.
Nathaniel will get a normal burial in whatever plot the town uses, not a private spot on the hill where he's buried the remains of those slain in ages past.
He does a passable service in the Asmodean style, as he believes that the man should be buried according to his own beliefs. "May your boldness and ambition afford you the position in Hell that you did not live long enough to secure in the living world."
Naturally I'll link things over..
Romon is quiet on the way back to Sandpoint. On reaching town he says, "I want to get cleaned up. I'll see if Kallie made it back. Maybe we can all get together for a meal?"
Romon orders the best the inn can provide for anyone who attends, but he eschews alcohol. During the meal he is complimentary of everyone's powers, especially Ali hamstringing that big goblin as it was turning on him.
The next morning he is up and out early.
A troubled and disappointed Romon rides slowly back to Sandpoint. {i]Buried alive. Errr.[/i] Despite the falling sun's warmth, he shivers as he contemplates the last hours of those poor people, scratching at the stone, their breath turning leaden in their throats and chests. Or maybe they starved.[/i]
ALone on the road, he starts to talk to his hired horse. "What were those ancients thinking? It's barbaric really."
That leads him to consider the only barbarian he knows, the Shoanti Muchorak. "Old Windbreaker would never do that to anybody. He's a real paladin, that one. I'll bet Ali sees every copper of the swag he's holding for her."
He smiles thinking about the little werewolf. Her teeth are clamped onto the big goblin dog's leg. Her feet are scratching and flailing, trying to pull it back.
He rubs his shoulder. "Marak did a nice job on this. A couple marks, but it works like new." He considers the cleric. [i] He's a deep one, not like any priest I've met before. What's his angle? And Inikai. He's another deep one. On the surface, just a local boy protecting the hometown, but he doesn't take the laurels for his deeds. Those two are a mysterious pair. Cearnis alway said to know your partners. I'll tackle Marak first."
Romon..
"Oh" she says as she comes up to you "your one of them aren't you..the heroes. " she gives you a beaming smile.."Perhaps you could help me with a small problem"
Mr. DM, sir:
The woman's greeting disturbs his cogitation. Looking up, he smiles broadly. What is it about this town and dark-haired beauties? He quickly sizes her up.
"No, ma'am. I'm no hero. I'm the bad boy, though I do my part to help them out. Come up here and tell me what I can do for you." He extends a hand to pull her up onto the horse.
The girl swings up behind you wrapping tanned arms arond your waist.."well.." she begins.."you see my family owns the general store..and we have this basement see..an' that basement has some big rats in it..really big rats...but my dad he's to busy worrying about me sister and that fella of hers down at the lumber mill to do anythin' about them see..so..I were wonderin' if a fine heroic gent like yersen might be willin' ter go an' deal with 'em for me..I'd be ever so grateful if you would"
Despite her country accent this girl has a voice like thick honey pouring slowly from a jar
** spoiler omitted **
DM :
Romon walks the horse through the street toward the livery stable. "So what is your name, my lady?" A bit of indirect flattery never hurts
Romon keeps the girl talking until he reaches the stable. He returns the horse and tips the stableboy well.
Taking the young woman's hand Romon asks, "So where are these rats of yours?"
Go ahead I liked it....the bear spirit is truely with you.
The taste of another foul creature in her mouth, these unatural walls, with their smells of death and abomination, and still the prevading trace of her hated enemies, the 'yucky goblins', over everything. It was much different in a den or burrow, there the Land was all about, conforting and protecting. Here...in these old old two-leg dens of death and evil...there was, no air, no breath, no sky...whining slightly, finally begining to be overwhelmed by the opressing underground atmosphere and too long away from the outdoors, the small gray wolf begins to track her way back. At first she looks back to ensure her friends are following, but they cannot keep up with her, and she cannot slow. Faster and faster she moves, until she is running, she must escape...closer, she can begin to smell the fresh air, the sea air. Faster, racing, her feet harldy touching the earth, almost there, the blue sky beckons, she must escape, she must be free, she must...FLY!
And suddenly, with a piercing cry of freedom and jubilation, it is not a small grew wolf that speeds across the earth but a multi-coloured bird of prey, a perigraine falcon, that soars across the sky. Realesed from the bonds of the Earth for the first time in her short life the Wild Druid glories in her new freedom. Learning the air currents comes easily and naturally to her and for a while she loses all sense of time. Eventually though her sharp eyes and then her ears pick out the sights and sounds of her tny friends, far below, searching frantically for her.
With another cry of joy, tinged with mischef, the feathered Gnome stoops at her dear friends, reaching amazing speeds, to at the last moment veer and blaze right over their heads. Turning then landing but a little ways from them she flows back to her small Gnome form and says with an ear to ear smile "Ali can Fly!!"
Wellard
So, here the thing. As you may have noticed, I haven't really been using all of the extra homebrew abilities I gave the Wild druid in place of taking away much of her spell casting ability. Part of the reason was that I still am not 100% satisfied with the varients I've created and part is that we didn't really seem to need them and the third part is that, as the ability is written, it is normal mundane animlas that Ali would be calling, and I just can't see her often calling her animals friends into a situation where they might be slaughter for real, unless it was a dire emergency. (mainly I'm talking about the Wild Druid 'Summon Animals' ability. Which is basically a modified permenant Summon Nature's Ally special ability)
So I have a few suggestions/solutions/questions in regards to this:
1) We could just keep the ability as it is, and I'll actually use it, to see how it plays and balances in game
2)We could just make it an actually special ability to cast Summon Nature's Ally either at will or a certain # of times per day. (remember, I did significantly reduce her spell casting ability)
3)We could perhaps instead give her an animal companion, at the same level as a ranger. If we go this route, I was thinking maybe Ali could track down that firecat (or what was it) that belonged to the old druid and and make friends.
4)Also one thing that doesn't make sense about the way the Shapeshift ability is written in PHBII is that the druid Does Not change size. This hasn't been an issue with her wolf form, but not that she can change into an ariel form, a hawk the size of a Gnome may just stand out a bit much. Plus also a medium sized treant is just kinda silly. I don't have the book with me now but if you don't own it I can give you whatever details you need later.
Several of these ideas I've been toying with in my head for a while and a few plus others I didn't mention come from this post
So when you get a chance I'd love to her your opion,take and/or ruling on all of this.
The walk back from the Goblin den is long for some, and for some a joyous birth of freedom...for Muchorak it is one of comfort...understanding. On the journey back his companions can visibly see a difference in his step and his posture. The small black bear (roughly 4 1/2ft long), steady at his side...it is evident the Shoanti Barbarian has found a peace of himself. Perhaps even the oddest thing for some of his companions is the arrival of the spiritual animal and how it seemed to not be the slightest bit strange the man.
His walk back to Sandpoint was full of emotion and memories, these things he only shared with the Spirit for the two had a connection that only chosen of his tribe knew and could understand. Occasionally on the walk he would pause and the duo would "wrestle" with one another, but showed little problem in rejoining the group...and once back at Sandpoint..."When shall we gather again my friends?" The Shoanti looks to the outlining woods of the area, "I must be free of the walls for at least this evening."
Ali
Romon
Wellard
"My names Shayliss..and I know you're Romon. All the girls have been talkin' about you."
"I'll bet none of them are as pretty as you."
She points down the street past the town Hall.."Our shop is down here just across from the Academy" She leads you the short distance to the store. As is usual with most traders in towns and cities across Varisia the shop has living quarters above the work area.
Romon eyes the store's goods, and all the portals into the building , windows, doors, stairs from above. Casing a joint is second nature.
Shayliss opens a hatch in the floor and picks up a lantern."The rats are down there...big as a goblin one of them was I'm sure off it"
The thought of big animal-goblins gives Romon pause. Naa. It's gotta be some mice. He pulls out his ever-burning torch. "Leave the lantern. I've got this. Now let's see these rats." He follows her down the hatch.
The first thing he does down there is look for other exits.
Romon
"Over there..in the corner.."Shayliss points to a spot near the pile. "t'were big as a goblin like i said"
DM:
Perception looking for rats.
All the time he's conscious that she's watching him. He's playing to her expectation. He wants to look dangerous and in control of the situation. He desperately hopes that he kills any rat that shows itself with a clean throw. Repeated ineffectual stabbing probably wouldn't impress her.
Romon
You search behind the barrels but find no rats.As you turn to face Shayyliss to ask if she is sure you catch her in the final stages of unlacing her bodice
- He prefers rooms with a second exit, usually a window.
- He's carrying a lot of high-value goods. It wasn't his line, but he knew people that plied rich marks with a honeypot.
- The trap door was still open. He hoped she wasn't loud.
- Makeshift bed, door -- put my stuff there. It's easy to reach and out of the way of the action.
- Damn, what was her name, Susan, no, Sheryl.
"Oh, darlin', I usually get the reward after the job." Bow, quiver, and swordbelt are quickly laid neatly to one side where he can scoop them up in one motion. He steps in to kiss her.
Romon
"Shayliss are you down he....WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE GODS ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER!!!!!"
He's a big man..getting on a bit now but a lifetime of moving heavy boxes hasn't reduced his musclature that much..he's also a bit drunk
Wellard :
He has priorities, pants, gear, shoes. He's reaching for his stuff when Shayliss' father yells, "WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE GODS ARE YOU DOING WITH MY DAUGHTER!!!!!"
"The same thing she's doing with me?" Later he'll regret saying that. It isn't biting, witty or funny enough to make the best impression on the girl, but it's the best he can do under the circumstances.
Muchorak's guide leads him to a clearing in the woods, a clearing he has been in before though last time he intiated the ritual. He takes his place kneeling in the center and beginning his chant, a chant that has been passed on from scout to scout. He remembers it just as if it was yesterday.
His guide moves about gathering, positioning some stones and making markings around the Shoanti. The minds connect and as more markings are made, the deeper into the chant Muchorak goes the link grows. Soon it reaches it's full development, and in that connection comes understanding and growth; growth that is manifested in the guide as Spirit Bears form changes from 4 1/2 ft to 6 ft.
The ritual carries on throughout the rest of the day and at it's end, dusk, the duo yet exhausted from it's requirments turned the event to youth. A wrestling match insues, much like the youngmen of his tribe do to show a bond the 'civilized' men can't comprehend.
Romon
Her..bodice off blouse unlaced to a more than maidenly degree, skirt up round her knees
"Father!!!" Shayliss shrieks as she tries to put herself back in some semblence of order
"I'll not have every wandering sellsword that comes through this place trying to dishonour my daughter.."
The man advances on you fists up obviously prepared to knock you down...better think quick
Wellard:
His mind is working over time. The gear is worth a bundle and the red jerkin, too distinctive to be left as evidence. Pulling a knife on the old man would just be wrong. He could probably take the old guy in a fistfight, but a quick exit has always been his style.
He feints left then moves right to scoop up his gear and the red leather. Priorities - sword-belt , bow, jerkin, quiver. Cradling his goods he tries to somersault past the angry shop-keeper.
Acrobatics
Romon.
Frantically grabbing your gear you tumble past the shopkeeper and dash upstairs and out off the shop heading for the Inn.
Inikai and Wellard:
He eschews the front door in favor of an entrance in the back, be it window or door. He taps the chosen portal, softly at first, then more loudly until Inikai answers.
When Inikai comes Romon holds a finger in front of his lips for quiet, then motions for the magician ('cause that's how he thinks of Inikai) to let him in.
Once in he tells Inikai a tale of woe regarding a friend of Romon's.
Once told, he asks Inikai, as a knowledgeable local and wiser man, how the general population will react and what his friend should do.
continue here