Attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (7) + 11 = 181d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 131d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Attack: 1d6 + 2 + 1d4 ⇒ (3) + 2 + (4) = 9
Pollo continues to be in a bad state despite Gigon's ministrations, hovering very near death. Meanwhile Anghariel moves through the trees before ducking low to avoid more danger from the wolf. Osveta and Milo just keep hammering at the wolf, and Osveta manages to score a wicked slash along its hide, almost killing it in a blow. However, it keeps fighting despite it all!
Covered in its, and everyone else's blood, the acidic wolf bears down on Osveta, knocking her off her feed and chomping down with a vicious bite. Acidic saliva seeps into the wounds which really doesn't help things.
Osveta (-11) (sickened 1)
Pollo (dying 3)
Caustic wolf (-25)
Everyone is up! Wolf is almost dead.
Let's see if the wolf has a reaction.
Milo moved to the wolf's flank and tried to stab it from behind. "Down, unnatural beast!"
Stride, Strike, Strike
Shortsword: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14
Piercing damage, sneak attack: 1d6 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 4 + (2) = 9
Shortsword, agile MAP: 1d20 + 7 - 4 ⇒ (8) + 7 - 4 = 11
Piercing damage,sneak attack: 1d6 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (6) + 4 + (3) = 13
I don't think I add anything for flanking; I think it affects the wolf's AC instead.
Not sure if Milo could use Nimble Dodge against a reaction. He will if he can.
Not recognizing any sort of plant nearby that could help him in his near panicked state, the Gnome desperately tries to stabilize the man again.
No whammy, no whammy, no whammy. STOP!
Crafting (First Aid): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14 Well at least I didn't Crit Fail.
Gigon desperately looked around again, in case he missed something.
Nature (Recall Knowledge): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
>> Administer First Aid
> Recall Knowledge
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A tall and almostly sickly skinny old man stands near a window in some lavishly decorated hall. The window itself is tall and narrow, looking out over a bustling city skyline. His robes are of exceedingly fine make, though close inspection reveals they are tattered with years of wear.
"I might call you useless, but quite honestly I wouldn't know. I've not paid any attention to you, my seventh child. My position, my status was all that really mattered. Leaving a legacy behind, and to be perfectly honest you have always been too far away for me to care how you might fit into that legacy."
Pollo lays, crumpled in the corner of the room. The old man's words burn like acid on his skin. No, inside. Deep down to his soul. Pollo rages against the pain, unwilling to accept it.
"I'm not sorry. You simply don't matter to me. Now that I've been deposed of my position, it all hardly matters anyways. Begone if you must, or stay, I don't care. Know this though, should you besmirch what is left of my name, I'll have you drawn and quartered by my fighting slaves you spend so much damned time with."
The pain of the wicked, callous words burns like the fire of a thousand suns. The more Pollo rejects the pain, the more it hurts. Finally, something clicks inside him. An awareness he had never realized previously. Instead of an endless assault of confusion and chaos, the pain became a maze, order constructed from chaos.
And he knew the way out.
With a grit of his teeth and a hardening of his heart, the room, window, and old man fade away to nothing. Pollo dives into the pain, running headlong into the suffering. Ahead of him, a tiny pin prick of light. The closer he gets, the more it hurts until suddenly, blissfully, the light envelops him and he breaks free.
"GAAAAAHHHH" Pollos eyes snap open and the man sucks in enough air to bend the grass and leaves around him.
"What... Happened?!" he looks around confused.
Spending hero point to be not dead! Back to 1hp. Not sure how many actions that takes.
@Osveta - specifying is good. You have been knocked prone.
@Pollo - nothing indicates heroic recovery takes actions, and it's more heroic if you can act so you have your full turn.
Gigon keeps trying to staunch the wounds and bring Pollo back to consciousness, but he didn't quite prepare for acid attacks. He immediately recalls that Myrtle grows wild and plentiful in this part of Isger, and some of that may make a salve that can prevent the worst of the acid damage. Looking around, he spots some off the path - quite a bit. It could probably make the difference...
And Pollo's eyes suddenly snap open. He sucks in an enormous breath, and despite being horrifically wounded, he begins trying to make it to his feet.
Locating some myrtle will give you a +2 on your next treat wounds or administer first aid action.
Up near the wolf, Milo circles around it - thankfully without getting his head bit off. HOwever, the wolf is an old and canny foe and avoids his blows.
Pollo, Osveta, and Anghariel are up!
Osveta roars as she hops back to her feet and continued her hacking at the wolf while Milo flanked with her.
>Greatsword: 1d20 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (9) + 7 - 1 = 15 Slashing, Negative: 1d12 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 4 + 3 = 19
>Greatsword: 1d20 + 7 - 6 ⇒ (8) + 7 - 6 = 9 Slashing, Negative: 1d12 + 4 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 3 = 15
Still shakey, Pollo stands up, fighting back waves of nausea. He looks left and right, trying to figure out where the best place might be to go, but can't shake the feeling that this canny foe needs to be dealt with first. He pulls one of the daggers from his belt he had been flipping earlier. Blade tip pinched between finger and thumb, he chucks it at the wolf.
Ranged Dagger attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22 for Damage: 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Don't have a chance to look up what penalties I might have that have carried over from 1e - ie firing into melee, etc. I will as soon as I get out of my next meeting!
1 - Stand
2 - Draw Dagger
3 - Throw Dagger
Staggering to his feet, Pollo eyes the wolf from afar as Osveta keeps it distracted. He flips a dagger in his hand before hurling it through the air....
And it flies right into the wolf's eye! The wolf gurgles and snaps around for a moment before collapsing.
End of Combat
As the alpha wolf collapses, the other wolves attacking the caravan get an immediate sense the tide has turned. Yelping, they flee into the forest.
With the fight over, Gigon immediately scrambled over to the Myrtle and began picking as much as he could. Unfortunately, without the proper drying setup, the Gnome doubted he could get more than a couple of poultice applications out of it. Still, it was better than nothing.
After gathering the herbs, he made his way back to Pollo, mixing another healing concoction.
"Here, drink this," He offered the man.
Again, Minor Elixir of Life.
”F+@*,” Osveta lets out as she lets her sword drop. ”Nice footwork,” she tells Milo before prying the dagger out of the wolf’s skull and walking over to Pollo, sword dragging behind her.
”Glad you’re still with us. Nice toss.” she says as she offers the dagger back.
After learning that Pollo had been badly injured, Milo examined the man. "Come and have a seat while I dress your wound," he said, taking out his healer's it. He washed Pollo's wounds and bandaged the acid-ravaged skin.
Medicine (treat wounds): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Healing: 2d8 ⇒ (6, 5) = 11 Assuming a success; also removes the wounded condition.
After he attended to Pollo's injury, he moved on to treat Osveta' bite.
Medicine (treat wounds): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Healing: 2d8 ⇒ (5, 8) = 13
I think this takes a total of 20 minutes.
Pollo slowly slumps back down to the ground when the massive wolf falls, the adrenaline from the fight ebbing away, which brings the pain from his burns on in full force. Despite that, he grits his teeth and swallows it down, unwilling to show himself as a blubbering fool.
He accepts the dagger from Osveta in his seated position, grunting his thanks and even flickering the beginnings of a grin before tipping Gigon's concoction back. The pain immediately subsides to a dull roar.
Minor Elixir of Life: 1d6 ⇒ 5
"Thank you. All of you." He coughs a few times as his breathing starts to return to normal. When Milo begins to treat his burns he allows himself to close his eyes, leaning his head back on the wheel of the wagon.
"See? I knew we were all going to be great friends." Pollo smiles.
Wow! Hairy fight. Nice work everyone, and thank you for the healing!! Much appreciated! I'm back up to 17 of 22!
"You're welcome. Can't have you dying on us!", Milo said with a wry smile.
After treating Pollo and Osveta, Milo took a closer look at the wolves."Why would they attack a full caravan?", he wondered.
Attempting an untrained Nature check. I originally rolled it, but I think I should leave that to the GM.
Then he headed off to see who else in the caravan was wounded, and offered to help.
”Yeah, guess you were right,” Osveta chuckles.
”It’s not that bad, just all these dang fleas.” she tells Milo as he begins looking her and treating her, smacking off the remaining vermin as he does so. ”Thanks.”
”They were probably starving... but then the big one thought it was a dragon so who knows.” she adds.
Something most certainly did not add up. Since when do wolves do that sort of thing naturally?
Gigon carefully made his way to the big wolf's carcass. Kneeling down and looking at it, a suspicion washed over him. Pulling out a long metal prob from his bandoleer, the Alchemist began poking around the inside of the dead thing's maw.
Recall Knowledge. It has the Secret Trait, meaning that technically, the GM needs to roll it. Not sure which skill applies, so up to you GM.
As he made his examination, a strange sensation of being watched pecked at the back of his mind.
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When the huge wolf at last falls, Anghariel rises from the undergrowth almost hesitantly, as if she can’t believe the beast is truly dead. She steps a little closer, briefly scrutinising Milo and Osveta to make sure they are not hurt too badly, before turning and dashing back to where Gigon is reviving Pollo.
“You’re alive!” she exclaims, almost bouncing on the spot in a very un-elven sort of way as she stands looking at the young fighter. “I don’t know if I could’ve stomached another – I mean, it would have been…sad if you had, well, died. Very sad. So, ah, I’m glad you didn’t. Indeed.”
Lapsing into an awkward silence, Anghariel gives everyone a weak smile and wanders off again, walking cautiously towards the wolf’s remains. That its smaller, ordinary brethren attacked the caravan was one thing, but an obviously unnatural creature like this? She may have been left scarred for life as a fairly direct result of her insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge, but she simply can’t walk away from this place without taking a closer look at the beast.
“Have you ever seen anything like this?” she quietly asks Gigon as she circles round the wolf’s corpse.
I’d also like to try a knowledge check in an attempt to figure out what the critter’s deal is/was. Not sure which skill applies; Arcana (and Occultism?) are at +7, Nature is at +5. If nothing else, the Detect Magic cantrip should allow me to figure out whether there’s anything magical about it at all.
Gigon jumped slightly at the Elf's question, he hadn't even heard her coming. "No, I've not seen or heard of anything like this."
The Gnome continued his investigation.
My (hopefully) relevant skills: Crafting +6, Nature +4, Herbal Lore +6. That's the beauty of the recall knowledge in 2nd Ed, almost any skill can be used for it. Now whether it garners any information or not is another matter altogether, and it's completely up to the GM if they think it's relevant.
Gigon and Anghariel settle in to examine the wolf while the rest of you start checking out the caravan. Borti and Tamli both arrive from the lead wagon. "That was one hell of a wolf!" shouts Bort as he walks up. "It almost killed a guy! Wow! You alright there Pollo? Of course you are. Remind me to tell you about the time I had to fight a wolf in a linnorm's belly up in the crown in the world. What a day..."
Tamli, meanwhile, is all business. The rear wagon has been yanked badly off of the road. The wagon driver has unhitched and lead the horses to safety but the wagon is very much stuck.
"Well this is a mess. Come on you lot, let's get this out of the muck."
Anyone who wants to help get the wagon out, please make an Athletics check.
Managing to ignore Bort, you examine the wolves as best you can. There does not appear to be any kind of alchemical changes made to them - a mutation or spell perhaps? It's impossible to determine the source but you have never seen a wolf like this.
However, as you're settled into the wilderness you notice that things are not as pristine as they seem. Not only do the wolves look sickly, but there's a wrongness to the trees and other animal life. Its nature, or what is causing it you cannot say.
Milo told Bort, "I'd love to hear the story sometime." He pitched in to try to get the wagon back on the road.
Athletics: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Later, when he had time, he bandaged up his own wounds.
Medicine (threat wounds): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Healing: 2d8 ⇒ (5, 1) = 6
"In the stomach of a linnorm?" Pollo mumbles as he gets a taste of his own medicine, Bort prattling on.
"I'm good, I'm going to be ok," he waves off some of the others who might still look worried. He looks over his shoulder at the wolf, his curiosity peaked as much as the others, but quickly moves to stand next to Osveta and help get the wagon back into place.
Athletics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
"Maybe it's a good thing we won't be here long. You all notice this too right? Something here just seems... off."
Pulling out an empty vial, Gigon managed to collect a very small sample of the "wolf's" acidic spit. I may not know what caused this, but it is definitely something worth looking into later. Placing the sample in a pouch, the Gnome stared at the carcass for a long moment.
Finally, he asked the Elf, "Do you suppose it would be too much to ask to take this carcass with us? I would really like to examine it at length."
“My apologies,” she tells the gnome. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
Since her exile from Kyonin, she has made her share of peculiar experiences in the wider world…but this wolf, this entire place, are more than peculiar; they’re wrong, somehow. The flora and fauna here seem altered in a way she can’t begin to fathom, and it’s making her uneasy. Perhaps more importantly, she has no idea if this wrongness is contagious.
Anghariel considers Gigon’s suggestion. “I doubt it’d prove a very popular idea. Would there even be room for it? It was a huge beast,” she says and lets out a small sigh. “But at the same time, I don’t like the thought of just leaving the carcase here to fester. Perhaps ask Master Borgith and see what he thinks?”
"Fair point," Gigon responded. "Let's ask him."
As they walked to the Dwarf, the Gnome still felt like he was being watched. No matter how he looked about, he didn't see anything.
Shaking it off, he addressed the Caravan Master, "Excuse me, Master Borgith, may I ask you a question about the wolf carcass?" Indicating the dead alpha.
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The lot of you set to getting the wagon out of the mud. After a while it finally gets free, but the strain takes it toll on Milo, and particularly Pollo who almost died five minutes ago.
Milo and Pollo are fatigued 1.
Bort looks around delightedly. "I'm buying you lot dinner tonight in Plaguestone! Marvellous work. An acid wolf, never heard of it, hah---huh?"
He looks over to Gigon. "Ask away. Let's get the caravan moving, come up to the front wagon if you need. Etran's Folly and a warm dinner wait for us all."
Next post I'll push the scene unless there's reason to linger. I assume you're taking the wolf corpse.
"Maybe.... you should take it easy for a bit." Osveta tells Pollo after they get the wagon unstuck. "You too, in case anyone else gets hurt." she adds to Milo.
"Would there be any possible way we could take it with us? I'd like a little more time to look it over while we travel."
Yes, the acid spitting wolf.
After an extended effort to get the errant wagon back on the road, Milo needed to rest for a bit. He hopped back into the rearmost wagon and sank onto the bench. "I hope they brew a good ale in Etran's Folly. I could really go for one about now!", he commented.
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Osveta hops in after the others. Stetching out she lets out a sigh. "I've had enough to drink after the past couple of weeks marching. I need some good food, a warm bed, an actual bath, and a f$#%. Not necessarily in that order."
After a moment seemingly in thought she adds "I'm willing to acquiesce on some, but not all of those. The place is called Plaguestone."
Pollo strains and pulls as he tries to help the wagon get out of the mud, when suddenly he feels a strange sensation of blood rushing to his head. His heart pounds in his chest so hard he is sure everyone within reach can hear it.
"You might be right Osveta." he bends over, hands on his knees as he sucks wind and tries to clear the strange light-headed feeling. "And I like where your head is at Milo. A bench sounds good right now." he trails off, recognizing he might be pushing things a bit, as stubborn as he might be to accept that. Climbing up onto the wagon, he sinks into the floor instead of the bench, slouching into the space and just allowing the fatigue to take over his battered body.
"Note to self. Fight acid wolves from behind. Gigon, mind if I use this thing as a pillow before it starts to stink?
Osveta's first comment raises an eyebrow on the young, brash man. Her follow up elicits a chortle that turns into a cough.
A few minutes after the wagon begins rolling down the road with visions of ale, baths, and beds dancing in his mind, Pollo turns his head toward Anghariel, taps her leg to get her attention, and smiles. "I'm glad I didn't die too." His face is warm and tired, and the smile conveys his appreciation for her earlier concern.
I think Pollo is ready! He is totally channeling his best impression of Cooky right now too.
Pollo's eyes get a little wider at the thought of fire breathing bunnies before he changes his expression, hiding his initial startled reaction with a smirk and a laugh.
"Only if they have sharp teeth and claws. Otherwise I'm sure you all can handle it." he mocks a big yawn and closes his eyes.
With permission granted, and the help Osveta or Pollo, Gigon got the wolf secured in a separate wagon.
At the Fighter's question, the Gnome replied, "I wouldn't recommend it. Stink might be the least your worries, given the unnatural affairs it possessed while alive."
Looking to the Halfling, he asked, "Do you think you can handle any further bandaging from here? At least for a while, I want to take a closer look at the carcass for the next couple hours at least. I'm going to get to the bottom of this if it's the last thing I do."
Milo replied to Gigon, "Yes, I'll take care of it. Once we reach Plaguestone, I'll apply some salves to Pollo's wounds."
I have to wait until an hour after I started to Treat Wounds the first time.
Technically, 50 minutes. It specifically says in the skill description the 10 minute treat time is part of the hour, not in addition to. But neither her nor there.
"Thank you. Don't be afraid to holler at me if you need help." With that, Gigon climbed in the the wagon with the wolf body and began a more thorough examination.
Can't find any rules on taking 10. I don't think that's a thing in 2nd ED. So.......going to roll normally.
Nature: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Bort is more than a little weirded out but he's happy enough he doesn't particularly care about you loading the acid wolf's body on the wagon, provided it's nowhere near him. With the caravan back on the road, you continue heading south to Etran's Folly. The teamsters give each other knowing looks as you get closer like they're in on some gigantic private joke you're not.
Finally, you arrive at wonderful Plaguestone.
Upon arrival it's immediately clear that Plaguestone is one of the sorriest towns you've seen in Isger, and that counts the ones razed to the ground by bloodthirsty goblins.
Most of the simple wood-and-thatch homes in Etran’s Folly look identical to one another in a manner totally devoid of quaint charm, and are in a similar state of disrepair. A number of the houses clearly look abandoned, their roofs collapsed. Keldaran tells you the story.
"Folks call this place Plaguestone on account of a plague that wiped out most of the town about twenty years back. It never recovered from it. I'll mention that unless you wanna rile up the locals, use the proper name - Etran's Folly. This ain't our favourite stop though."
As the wagon wheels through town you notice a few locals milling about. The fields around the town are filled with an identical leafy-green vegetable of some sort. The middle of the town contains a curious sight - a large, flat, cylindrical rock standing around two feet high, with a hole in its centre and a bowl-shaped depression off to one side.
"That's the plaguestone. See, when the plague went rampant, townfolk left food for the sick in the bowl. The sick dropped coins in the centre hole. Just a weird curiousity now."
Finally, you arrive at the one building in town of any size. The caravan pulls up and the teamsters get to work settling the animals. Bort wanders over, helping you from the wagon with a big smile.
"Right! So I've got to tend my caravan but your time is your own. That said I expect you all as my guests at the Feedmill - that's this place right here - tonight. Feel free to stop in and get some rooms, I'm paying for tonight. Introduce yourself to Delma who manages the place."
Looking around you see the Feedmill appears to be the only real business in town, beyond the general store which is attached to the same building.
You have a bit of free time to explore, head into the Feedmill, poke at hte dead wolf, and so forth. Or if you wish I can fast forward to dinner.
"Not as bad as I was thinking," Osveta murmurs as they make their way into town.
Hopping out of the wagon she stretches before making for the Feedmill [b]"Thank you kindly,"[b] she tells Bort as she passes him.
"Not the liveliest looking place, is it?", Milo remarked to his travelling companions. He grabbed his pack and jumped off the wagon. "I'm going to get a room, and then a drink! Pollo, I can help with the discomfort from that acid, if you come with me."
The weary halfling walked into the Feedmill and asked to speak with Delma.
“Let me know if you would like a hand with the wolf, Gigon. I doubt I’d be of much help, though – my studies largely were of a more theoretical nature.”
Seated in the wagon once more, Anghariel flinches when Pollo taps her leg. The look she immediately gives him is an almost offended one at first, but her expression quickly eases into something more amicable and slightly apologetic. “As you should be. It’s not something to be taken for granted, you know, being alive.” After a moment, she wryly shakes her head. “I’m sorry. Deep elven wisdom that wasn’t, was it?”
She silently takes in the extraordinarily bleak sight that is Etran’s Folly. It falls far short of the magnificent architecture that is so ubiquitous in Kyonin, of course, but even by the standards of the non-elven settlements she has visited so far this place seems downright dismal. “Those who still live here can hardly be blamed for not wishing to be reminded of such a calamity,” she remarks when Keldaran has explained the town’s nickname.
The elf gives Bort a small smile, accepting his helping hand as she climbs down from the wagon. “I could hardly refuse you, Master Bargith, though I fear I have little to offer with which to repay your generosity.” She inclines her head before making a beeline for the Feedmill, where she’ll talk to this Delma about securing a room (single, ideally) and having a bowl of hot water brought to it at some point.
The Assurance feat is the closest you can get to taking 10 now, I think. Not quite the same thing, of course.
"That's easier to do than you think." Pollo chuckles in response to Anghariel's poignant wisdom.
"Thanks Milo!" the oddly cheery young man says as he wakes up from his nap to take in the bleary looking town. He follows the halfling into the Feedmill wordlessly, for once, as he sizes up the town and the building.
I'm in no rush. This group has a pretty good posting rate, even with PbP Gameday starting up, and the RP has been good and fun. We can move on to dinner or explore for a bit, I've got no strong opinion either way.