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Quinn will shove a few goodberries into her mouth and nod to Pan for again coming to her aid... She looks up and sees only one giant Druid remaining, surrounded by he companions. Quinn then moves up behind Frost and seeing her injuries, offers her some of the goodberries to return her to full fighting strength. It is from this vantage point that she sees Bacchus rage into another attack...
Dreadfully weakened by Wei Ji and Odo's assault, the tattooed elf looks around wearily at his dead and dying companions. He looks to the west, where the last rays of the sun stream over the Briar Henge... a sure sign that he is running out of time.
Having seen the results of the hawk's wrath, the green-faced druid tries to shield his eyes, but Bacchus is unerringly on target and will not be rebuffed. Bloodied and nearly blinded, he sinks to his knees, shrinking back to normal size. "Oh my brutal Lord Gozreh... We have failed you!" He cries out in grief before slipping into unconsciousness, bleeding out upon the open ground.
The crackling of the magical energy dissipates and the Atavistic Splinter, a 3 foot chunk of charred bark falls from where it was suspended onto the ground, it's energies now inert. Pangu and Odo's bestial features fade back into their more civilized faces and you all breathe a collective sigh of relief.
Green's attempts to stabilize
and Dead.
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Quinn sends a quick, high pitched whistle and Bacchus instantly responds, returning to her wrist. She kisses and smooths his feathers, the hawk leans in and pushes his head repeatedly in for more.
The half-elf looks about at the carnage in the hedge and she hangs her head a moment, but she quickly thinks of all of the innocent people these evil forest priests have victimized on their maligned quest. Her head lifts, her expression hardens, and she turns her gaze to her traveling companions. There is so much she has learned from questing with these more experienced Pathfinders. Compassion, wisdom, rage, tact, martial acts, and arcane feats. Both her and her hawk were brought to the edge of survival and ushered back by these phenomenal adventurers. She knows that her lack of experience may have caused some additional work for the group, but also hopes that she and Bacchus pitched in and carried their own weight.
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The tengu is not a murderer. However, he DOES currently have the effects of the Litheria Blossom active.
He's not a vindictive bastard, but he is curious to see how good his normal first aid skills are.
He sort of fumbles through bandaging the fellow for a few seconds, in part because the damage is that dire.
And then he manages to stabilize the patient and lets out a sigh of relief, even as a bit of a weight lifts from his shoulders.
"About a year and a half ago, I was on a mission for the Society. We encountered some individuals who had been infected by a lycanthrope but had not yet shown signs of it. We were in the field, with no resources to bring them back to civilization without endangering our mission, and we had every reason to believe they were telling us the truth. They were unrepentant and in fact eager to pursue becoming slavering beasts of death and destruction, and taunted us, saying there was nothing we could do to stop it. We... did what we had to do, based on what we knew."
What they 'had to do', based on the gravity of the words, is pretty obvious.
"Could we have saved them? Maybe. But we didn't give them a chance to after their declarations, and in addition to being on a timetable we didn't feel confident in our ability to do so. We have the resources now, and I'd very much like to see justice done to these folks, but the *right* way, not field vigilantism. My recommendation is to take them back to town and have them face judgement by the magistrate. Andoran is a nation based on the principles of freedom, and they should at least get a chance to express their views in court if they so desire. Who knows, maybe someone will learn something out of all this mess?"
On the way back, if 'green' does awaken, he will move to travel beside him.
"You were saved by the grace of the Master of Masters. Gozreh is a wild and unpredictable path, and wrought with peril, as you have seen. I can't insist you make a choice on your path, but consider the ramifications of falling out of balance, and what this has done."
At some point, Wei will attempt to score a 'victory dinner' for the hawk, who very clearly was the deciding factor in that last encounter...
And he will be back to follow up on his word to the two fae, as well. Because that's just good form.
With the druids peacefully sleeping off their wounds and the desperate rush of ending the ritual in time resolved. You can take your time to explore the Briar Henge before you make preparations to depart. As the sun has set, you may want to stay the night before setting off again. Horses see better by the daylight, after all.
You secure the artifact and relieve the druids of a number of healing potions and scrolls of barkskin, as well as removing their armor and weapons.
Following the passage around to the south, you find the aforementioned "sleeping area". Six hammocks hang suspended from the thorns here, crisscrossing along the thorny walls. Two oaks provide shade and shelter from wind and rain. A few clothes hang from the thorny walls. The hammocks and clothes seem simply made.
Near one of the tree trunks is a large, sturdy chest. Near the other is a smaller chest, whose open lid reveals several scrolls and tomes.
This area served as the living quarters of the Briar Henge druids. The books and scrolls are almanacs, starcharts, and philosophical treatises, mostly written in Druidic. The larger chest is locked with a good lock, but after some time spent searching, you locate the key to the lock laying within the smaller chest. The chest contains a birch wand of eagle eye (Advanced Player’s Guide 217) with 12 charges remaining and a beautifully patterned leaf that acts as a scroll of grove of respite (Advanced Player’s Guide 226).
You suspect the Twigjacks must have taken leave of the place once they realized they had failed at guard duty as they do not appear as you approach the middle of the Henge. This open space is roughly oblong, with three gaps in the thorny walls to the south, west, and north. To the east is a rough wooden table with a leather satchel lying atop it. The table is surrounded by six cut logs planed flat and turned endwise to serve as stools. Two stiff linen banners hang on stands placed along northwest and southwest walls, carefully placed a few inches away from the thorns to prevent tearing.
This would seem to be the druids’ main meeting area. The leather satchel contains a wax tablet with a crude map of this area of the Verduran Forest. The map is marked with overlapping circles radiating outward from Briar Henge in no discernible pattern. The logging camp and Wispil are both clearly indicated on the map. Various unintelligible symbols also dot the map, but there is no key on the tablet to indicate what the symbols mean.
The two tapestries are coarse linen saturated with beeswax and then dried to render the linen waterproof. The banner between the north exit and the west exit contains a skillfully painted image. The left side of the picture depicts several dejected humans crowded by buildings (mills, inns, houses, and similar structures). On the right side, as though stepping out from the claustrophobic alleys on the left, are several bestial humanoids, standing tall and proud in an open meadow surrounded by blooming vegetation. This painting has been “improved” by a twig jack, who has scrawled a trio of cavorting stick-figure twig jacks in the background of the meadow.
The banner between the west exit and the south exit depicts a complicated lunar calendar. The calendar is covered with symbols that depict phases throughout the lunar year. With some study and comparison, Quinn's grasp of Sylvan leads her to correctly match the banner’s symbols to the symbols on the wax tablet map.
Together, the two pieces present a specific timeline for the ritual’s effect. In the first few weeks, the ritual expands slowly out from Briar Henge. In the last few weeks, it expands to encompass nearby logging communities (including the lumber camp the you passed through on your way to Briar Henge). In the final day, the ritual is powerful enough to affect residents of Wispil. You have no doubt that your own accounts in addition to the people of Wispil's eyewitness will be enough to convict the Druids, this evidence is simply the icing on the cake.
Your return to Wispil is uneventful and along the way you are hailed by thankful loggers who were indeed able to release themselves from their bonds once you removed the terrible affliction.
When you make your way back to Almas, Venture-Captain Brackett accepts the Atavistic Splinter from you and promises that the Pathfinder Society will put the artifact to good use in the upcoming Ruby Phoenix Tournament in Goka.
You are seated in the main hall of the Grand Lodge of Absalom, waiting for the arrival of Absalom’s newest venture-captain, a tall, dark-haired and olive-skinned Varisian woman named Eliza Petulengro. Renowned for her composure under pressure and the author of more than two dozen Pathfinder Chronicles entries, she appears in the hall suddenly, a stack of chronicles in her arms, and looks you over before speaking.
The Venture-Captain takes a deep breath before launching into her briefing, “My greatest pupil, Pathfinder Bodriggan Wuthers, has gone missing. He followed a cleric contact back to Wuthers’s home city of Oppara to work on a massive dig beneath the House of the Immortal Son, Oppara’s famed opera house and once temple to the dead god, Aroden. That was a year ago. He sent monthly reports, hoping to see their publication in a chronicle, before all contact dried up a few months back. I’m worried something has gone wrong, and the Society has a vested interest in the artifact he was researching and seeking. We want you to travel to Oppara and find Wuthers. We’d like to know exactly what he was seeking, too, since he neglected to inform us through his monthly correspondence. He hinted only that the cleric of Irori he was working with told him the object was the world’s greatest ‘living’ artifact — whatever that means."
“I have only a few tidbits of information to pass to you before you go: the House of the Immortal Son is nearly impossible to access. It took Wuthers months and countless bribes to get where he did. For you, I have a much simpler idea. Go to an opera, wait for an opportunity, and then exploit it to find Wuthers and his dig site."
She takes a moment to appraise your trappings. “Be sure to wear something festive — the Taldan nobility are arrogant on their best days and if you arrive at the opera dressed like that,” she waves her hands at you, “they’ll surely lose your tickets or regret to inform you that the opera house is oversold. Your travel is arranged, you will have time to gather your gear and resupply before you depart. Are there any questions before you make your preparations?"
Among the Living - 3-4 Roster
---------------------------------------------
jamie noone is playing Random Derrick (rgr2/sor1)
chadius is playing Cirri Merryweather (Magus 3)
Merck is playing Morvius Charthagnion III (Oracle 3)
PJP is playing Sifvery Moon (Sorcerer 3)
PatheticWretch is playing Necress Nyx (Oracle 3)
Gilthanis is playing Ryskovich (Fighter 3)
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Nearby stands a fellow Pathfinder, a beautiful lithe female with long black hair and pale skin. She wears scale armor and carries a large mithril shield, in addition to a club made from the femur of some large humanoid creature.
Despite her attractive appearance, something seems...off. There is an eerie feel about her. A librarian stumbles and drops a load of chronicles on the ground behind the strange woman, but she does not react. It is suddenly clear that the woman is deaf.
She appears to be reading the lips of the Venture-Captain. She turns to the empty air beside her and rolls her eyes.
"Shut up," she whispers to no one.
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Cirri looks at her leather armor. "What's wrong with- Oh yeah." She notices a hole on her armor. "I guess I'll get something fancy. Sis always says, be prepared for the highs and the lows."
"Hi everyone! I'm Cirri Merryweather. Good to meet you." The cheerful woman shakes everyone's hand (assuming they are willing.)
This blonde human holds one end of her quarterstaff at her head, deep in thought. "So Bodriggan Wuthers was looking for the ruins of a dead god? I'll ask around town to see his local habits. Maybe I can find a clue!"
Cirri manages to stay on topic, mostly.
Your inquiries quickly reveal that Bodriggan Wuthers is a Pathfinder of some renown. Though he began as an orphan of unknown ancestry, found 20 years ago on the doorstep of the Pathfinder Lodge of Taldor’s capital, Oppara. He was raised in an orphanage, but the Taldan Pathfinders made it a point to look in on him from time to time, encouraging the boy’s curiosity and pushing him toward the life of the vagabond scholar. They got what they desired. When Wuthers turned 16, he left the orphanage behind and traveled to Absalom to join the Pathfinder Society. After a few years of training and following Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro, Wuthers settled easily into his routine, traveling Avistan and Garund seeking greater glory for himself and the Society through treasure hunting. He quickly made a name for himself, battling through a host of demon-possessed apes in the Screaming Jungle at age 18 to recover the Garls Harp, an Azlanti musical instrument thought lost to time and memory. His tale of that find saw his first of many reports appear in the Pathfinder Chronicles and his fame as a Pathfinder was permanently sewn into the fabric of the Society by his many deeds.
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Random's mouth gapes and he stares dumbly as the Venture Captain enters and speaks. When she finishes, he finally recovers, "You have my hair, and my skin! Are you me? No, you can't be.. my name's not Eliza Petulengro. But if it was..." He looks at her suspiciously as he continues, "So, an opera, eh? And operas can only end when the fat lady sings, eh? Then it's settled: during the show I'll sneak backstage and seduce the fat lady. I'll keep her occupied the rest of the night, so that the opera cannot end, thus giving you all plenty of time to sneak into the dig site and kill this Bodriggan Wuthers fellow. Or whatever the mission was. Is. Be. Are. Arrrrr. YES! Singers like pirates, don't they? Or ninjas. Either way, I'm going to need to go shopping..."
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An extremely gaunt young man with premature grey hair and wearing the cloths of a gentleman under his plate armor cant hide the smile on his face as he mumbles. Oh Oppara...
It will be good to visit home, and to go to the House of the Immortal Son. I must ready my best outfit! Morvius pretends not to hear the rest of the nonsense and prejudiced slanders the low born venture captain belches about his homeland Taldor, the glorious center of all Golarion
He shakes Cirri's hand with with the aloof grace of those born into nobility.
Morvius Charthagnion III, delighted to meet you.
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"Yeah Ryskovich, it's a lot warmer here. Sometimes hotter and more humid than it should be due to the city's density and waste management." Cirri catches herself. "Oop, rambling again."
"I almost figured out how to start transforming, too." She smiles. "I tried turning into an elf once, but the spell backfired and my ears shrank! Everything sounded weird for an hour, like I was listening out of a tin can!" She sighs.
"I don't know anything about the Taldor nobility. I hope they don't mind me bringing my staff along. I'll say it's a fashion statement!" She does a quick flourish.
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Sifvery Moon, with her silvery-white hair and pale blue tattoos, remains quiet and calm, standing in the back to take it all in.
This may be the oddest group of people I have yet worked with, and the last mission included a gun-wielding grippli!
"Well, I have never been one for fancy clothes, but this should be fun."
The Venture-Captain hands you a sketch of Wuthers to help you identify him, if he should be unable to identify himself when you find him.
"The opera is entitled, Among the Living, and you'll have the privilege to attend it's debut performance. I look forward to your review. Go, and report back to me directly upon your return to Absalom.”
Your newly acquainted team concludes the mission briefing and sets off to gather gear and meet up at the docks. Though Absalom is the largest city in the world, it rests upon the Isle of Kortos and all who journey to Taldor must sail the Inner Sea. The voyage is plagued by turbulent waters, but is otherwise uneventful. When you arrive at Westport, the sun setting to the west gleams red-gold off the gilded domes and glittering spires of Oppara's skyline. Passing through the Westport district requires navigating the narrow warrens of inns, bars, brothels, gambling houses, drug dens, and moneylenders, but that is true of most every port. It is nearly dark as you find your way to your lodgings and as the inky darkness begins to press in, you look up at the sudden appearance of bright points of light above your heads. They spread and grow, filling the purple sky like stars, but their light is closer. The gilded city shines at night as well, lit by thousands of lanterns strung between the white stone buildings and towers. The flawless, pristine architecture reflects their light, glowing as if lit from within.
Travel is tiring, so it is good you are given a night to rest and put yourselves back to rights. Some of you don new finery as you prepare to face a new kind of mission. A night at the opera. The city has been abuzz over tonight's new offering and the excitement is nearly palpable. Even the common people with no hope of procuring seats are enthusiastic, many of them gawking at the strange and interesting assortment of tourists. Some performing their minor arts for tips from eager and appreciative hedonists, others still hawking their wares.
Once a temple to Aroden, the House of the Immortal Son has, since his death, been Taldor’s most opulent and expensive opera house. It is a large, windowless, cylindrical building made of polished marble and granite and surrounded by thick, finely-carved pillars. Built in the earliest traditional styles of Aroden temples, the opera house lacks windows and its roof is a complicated piece of stone statuary that replicates the holy symbol of Aroden, a steady winged eye gazing forever toward the heavens.
Everything your eye meets as you enter the ten foot tall double doors that make up the grand entry of the House of the Immortal Son speaks of extravagance, both in structure and substance. Your toes sink deliciously into sumptuous carpets and every surface has been polished to a high shine. High above your heads a crystal chandelier sparkles, casting tiny little rays of prismatic light to dance across everyone and everything beneath it. And what a parade of interesting characters come to the opera in Oppara! The Taldan nobility dominates the crowd, many of them displaying a foppish dedication to the latest fashions that borders on the grotesque. One woman wears a wig that appears enchanted with a continuous revolution of prestidigitation as it fades into a new color about every minute or so. It seems pets must be allowed inside as well as an interesting looking gnome passes by, riding upon an ostrich with periwinkle plumage to locate his box seats.
You are subject to a fair amount of looks yourselves. Those of you who dressed for the occasion get little more than a passing glance, but those who could or would not conform draw looks of disdain from some as they look down their noses over their fancy opera glasses. But whenever an onlooker spies an exposed wayfinder, well they glance soon again, a bit more curiously. Pathfinders are apparently interesting, however they dress.
Your seats are on the ground floor and nearly as far from the stage as is possible, compliments of the Society. Filled with classic church pews now covered in the finest silks and cushions, the main room of the opera house is what you’d expect from a temple turned-theater. Much iconography dedicated to Aroden remains here in addition to the trappings of a dedicated theater. Soon the audience is all seated and the music swells, launching into the debut performance of Among the Living.
As the story plays out, you gather that it’s an epic tale of a lone Ulfen warrior named Victory who sails to the ends of Golarion, crashes off the edge of the world, and finds himself in a gothic paradise where he falls in love with the undead queen of a jungle kingdom. It’s melodramatic, over-acted, gaudy, and tasteless — just the sort of affair Taldor’s wealthy screams to attend. As yet another twirling dancer in a brown costume festooned with bright pink, flowing silk scarves spins across the jungle set at the front of the stage, the orchestra reaches a screeching crescendo that crashes the entire opera to a halt. The dancers stand quietly for a moment, breathing heavily and listening to the scattered applause across the obviously bored Taldan audience. Suddenly, a sound like a thousand gongs shakes the entire building to its very foundation and the audience murmurs in a mixture of delight and fear. The actors and orchestra, however, suddenly flee the stage, disappearing behind the curtains.
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Cirri spends her trip noting changes in the seas and identifying birds. Occasionally she will talk about the details of arcane magic and spar with her quarterstaff.
At port, Cirri needs to be pulled away from the street gamblers, as she is much too curious about how the game works. She also identifies several rodents along the way and wonders how many nests are nearby.
At the Opera house, Cirri feels like she is at a county fair, and spends her time gawking and identifying magical effects and pets. "Why is he riding that ostrich? Male ostrich. Maybe he's trying to quickly find his seat. Haha!"
Cirri tries to make small talk with the nobles.
She manages to stay on topic!
Finally, the play begins. Cirri tries to follow it, but she seems more focused on the pet bear that one count brought in. How much food does he need? Isn't that expensive? The bear must be really bored here!
"W-What? I don't get it. Are we at the intermission?" Cirri scans the stage as the actors run for cover.
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In the lobby of the theater, Random looks around at the fashions of the locals. "Hmph. I thought the tailor had a point when he talked me out of the ninja outfit. It made sense that a ninja would want to blend in. Frankly, though, I think the ninja outfit would have been less conspicuous."
He tilts his head for a negligibly lower angle to watch the ostrich walk away after Cirri points it out. "How can you tell it's male? I know males usually have more color, but I don't think they're naturally purple like that. The gnome could just as easily have painted a female purple."
The terrible gonging seems to have been a signal as a few beats later, you hear the tell-tale sound of invaders crashing against the doors leading off from the main theater. Several of the patrons scream out in startled surprise and then look embarrassed, as if they have overreacted and this is surely just another dramatic device, meant to heighten the excitement. Others look about them unsure. The houses' lights are still lowered for the performance and as the crashing sound comes again, more cries of alarm erupt from your fellow opera-goers as instinct begins to override denial. Many around you are standing now, straining to see something reassuring in the gloom of the darkened theater. Some have decided their seats are no longer safe and leap up, knocking over pews in the process and rush for the open area of the aisles.
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"Well, I was running through the savannah once, and I thought I saw a bunch of ostriches jumping over each other, but...um...no they weren't. When does this intermission end, anyway?"
Cirri hears the first knock. "Um, that's no good." Cirri stands up and casts Dancing Lights to illuminate the nearby area around her. Some of the patrons glare at her because she's ruining the mood. She also pulls out her wand of shield.
The second, louder smash startles everyone and confirms her suspicions. "Nobody panic! Pathfinders are here!" She calls out to the crowd, but no one is listening.
She shrugs, pulls out her spellbook and begins casting Enlarge Person on herself. The spell completes just as the third round begins, and Cirri grows over 11 feet high. "Good thing I wear pants underneath my skirt, or this would really be embarassing."
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When the doors bang from the first impact, Random is as startled as everyone else. "Um..."
After the second crashing impact, he makes a decision, "Okay, if that's the 'fat lady' that's supposed to sing, we're going to have to change our plans."
As the crowd panics, Random pulls out a scroll and casts it, to no obvious effect. Then he pulls out an everburning torch and hands it off to the invisible assistant that he conjured. "Unwrap it and hold it nearby."
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Morvius just loves the whole going to the opera experience. He talks to the other patrons and wears his wayfinder openly in his belt.
As it begins he gets disappointed by the performance and is startled by the sudden comotion. Well, at least that should improve this terrible spectacle, the author should be imprisioned.
He casts protection from evil on himself and bless with a wand.
Necress Nyx does not hear the crashes, but she feels the vibrations and draws her bone club as she follows behind Ryskovich.
The Pathfinders make their preparations as chaos sets in among the crowd. The Taldan patrons become successively more frightened and panicked with each crash of something bashing against the doors leading into the theater. Many have turned toward you, eagerly seeking out the light and stare wide-eyed at the doors as they begin to buckle inward, frozen in their steps. Others are rushing the stage, having seen the actors flee in that direction. A few brave souls try and calm their neighbors, while a minority that seem to have lost their wits streak for the other doors, desperate to find their way out of the place and trampling others who hesitate to move out of the way.
Necress Nyx does not hear the crashes, but she feels the vibrations and draws her bone club as she follows behind Ryskovich, readying to deal with whatever comes through the door.
Finally the door latch gives in under the assault and the doors burst inward, despite being designed to open from the other direction. Dead eyes stare blankly ahead from pallid faces as the enemy staggers into the grand theatre, dark blood still weeping from fresh wounds and staining their clothing. Their dress looks strangely familiar and it takes a moment before you realize these undead are wearing costumes much like those of the other actors in the opera. A dark-furred creature in front raises a spiked morningstar, looking rather out of place among the others.
Prep Round 1
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Sifvery Moon – casts mage armor, draws wand
Ryskovich – draws falcata and shield
Enemy - BANG!
Cirri – casts dancing lights, draws wand
Random – draws and casts from scroll of unseen servant
Necress Nyx – moves, drawing club
Morvius – casts protection from evil on self, draws wand
---------------------------------Prep Round 2
Sifvery Moon – casts shield from wand, puts wand away
Ryskovich – readies full attack, fighting defensively
Enemy - BANG!
Cirri – casts enlarge person on self
Random – draws torch and hands eb torch to servant
Necress Nyx – double move
Morvius – casts bless, puts wand away
---------------------------------Round 1
Sifvery Moon - delays
Ryskovich – holds
Enemy - Break through!
Cirri
Random
Necress Nyx
Morvius
---------------------------------Round 2
Sifvery Moon
Ryskovich
Enemy
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Cirri applies the wand of shield on herself. A translucent blue field appears in front of her. She then carefully steps towards the entrance, careful not to squish anyone. "Oop, sorry. Pardon, Pathfinder business." Finally, she enchants her staff with magical energy.
Cirri tries to trip the first foe that enters her range.
Cirri is lucky she didn't trip on herself.
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Necress closes her eyes and holds a hand out toward the undead, her stance defiant.
"Hearken to my words and I will release you from your torment! Then you will trouble me no more, wretched creatures!"
The Pathfinders take up positions and wait for the enemy to advance. Necress sends out a negative energy clarion call and soon after, the furred undead's posture changes from aggressiveness to one of passivity.
The rest of them lumber toward you, one heading for Morvius and the rest moving forward toward the group. Ciri makes a trip attempt as they approach, but it has no effect. Morvius and Ryskovich make their held attacks as their targets come into range, but they aren't enough to halt the undead's advance. Ryskovich manages to avoid the swipes directed at him but Morvius is struck by a slam attack for 6 damage!
NE Medium Undead
Init +0; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +0
DEFENSE
AC 16, touch 10, flatfooted 16 (lt wood shield)
hp: 37 / 42 (6d12+3)
Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +5
DR 5/Slashing
OFFENSE
Speed: 30’ (Can’t run)
Melee: Morningstar +6 (1d8+3) or
slam +6 (1d6+3)
Ranged: javelin+3 (1d6+2)
STATISTICS
Str 17, Dex 10, Con -, Int-, Wis 10, Cha 10
Atk: +3, CMB: +6, CMD: 16
Feats: Toughness
SQ: undead traits, staggered, ???
Prep Round 1
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Sifvery Moon – casts mage armor, draws wand
Ryskovich – draws falcata and shield
Enemy - BANG!
Cirri – casts dancing lights, draws wand
Random – draws and casts from scroll of unseen servant
Necress Nyx – moves, drawing club
Morvius – casts protection from evil on self, draws wand
---------------------------------Prep Round 2
Sifvery Moon – casts shield from wand, puts wand away
Ryskovich – readies full attack, fighting defensively (strikes green for 6 damage)
Enemy - BANG!
Cirri – casts enlarge person on self
Random – draws torch and hands eb torch to servant
Necress Nyx – double move
Morvius – casts bless, puts wand away
---------------------------------Round 1
Sifvery Moon – delays and readies spit, misses
Ryskovich – holds
Enemy - Break through!
Cirri – casts shield, readies trip
Random – fires on Red for 5 damage
Necress Nyx – commands undead
_
_
_
_
_
Morvius – moves, drawing glaive and readies attack (strikes blue for 11 damage)
---------------------------------Round 2
Sifvery Moon – casts grease on morningstar
_
Ryskovich - holds
Enemy :
Red – drops morningstar, awaits command
Blue - charges Morvius, receiving readied attack (11 dmg) and slams for 6 damage
Green – charges Ryskovich, receiving readied attack (6 dmg) and attacks, misses
Orange – moves to attack Ryskovich, misses
Yellow – charges Ryskovich, misses
Cirri
Random
Necress Nyx
Morvius
---------------------------------Round 3
Sifvery Moon
Ryskovich
Enemy
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Cirri skips the fancy footwork and simply decides to squish Green.
Cirri carefully watches her head to make sure she doesn't crash against the ceiling. "Being big like this is harder than I thought it would be..."
Cirri conjures a gust of wind to help reposition herself.
Cirri aims a palm thrust at the ground. A gust of wind erupts as she scoots across some of the pews. "That should give us more room!"
If orange or yellow move, they may trigger an AoO from Cirri. She'll try to trip the first person in 10 ft who provokes.