Please 'dot' this gameplay thread and fill out the Macros and the Slides.
.
For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres — Armasse is coming!
Traditionally an opportunity for scholars and priests to come together to study the lessons of history from wars past, since Aroden’s death, this holy day has become more about training commoners in weaponry, choosing squires, and ordaining new priests. Over time, Armasse has grown to encompass jousting competitions, mock duels, battle reenactments, and other festival events. In Kenabres, the festival (which takes place on 16 Arodus) is eagerly anticipated, for it provides distractions from the horrors of being on the front line of the war. Smiles on faces normally marred by downcast eyes and furrowed brows do wonders for city morale in the weeks leading up to the event.
Armasse is a citywide celebration, but the majority of the event, including its jousting matches and other entertainments, takes place at Clydwell Plaza, just west of the cathedral. You are in attendance near the cathedral’s facade — you've been lucky enough to get good spots to observe the opening ceremonies at noon.
There's plenty of time before the opening ceremonies...
Paolo has been enjoying the festivities and offering the Inheritor's blessing to anyone who desires it. Dressed in robes, he is a fairly average-looking human man, although his skin is almost unnaturally pale.
An olive-skinned man meanders among the stalls of the festival, looking for a little distraction after a long travel. His eyes look at the entertainers, the merchants with their goods, but his gaze seems distant. As if deep in thought, and his body is just going through the motions. Dressed in simple linen clothing, very few possessions hang from his belt, but he has a backpack thrown over one shoulder. His shoes are dirty with dried mud, and the clothing is sullied with stains of various colours.
A long ponytail drops beneath his shoulder blades from the back of his otherwise shaven head. His step is slow, but sure, and as his brown eyes dart through the crowd, he occasionally nods his head in greeting of familiar faces.
He stops near a small gathering of musicians to listen to the performance, and a smile slowly creeps unto his face as he join the observers in a gentle clap. He tosses a copper towards the stage and moves on, still scanning faces.
He looks towards the pale man in the square, blessing the passersby. He approaches.
"Excuse me." he addresses the man. "I am looking for a man sharing your faith. Sir Jorsal of Lauterbury. Are you, by chance, familiar with him? Bulky man, big sword to his side, usually, shield on the back. Black bushy beard... ?"
In a human town like Kenabres, where the closest centre of guns is the technology-rich land of Numeria, Solras sticks out like a furry, sore thumb. The Arcadian woman is currently enjoying the same musicians that Obahi are listening to, enjoying the new music, foreign to her Arcadian, expressive ears. Fur covers her feline, humanoid body, patterned like a lynx, with black spots covering her in a few spaces.
Upon hearing the medic ask the question, she responds immediately, knowing precisely who the man is talking about, but not exactly where he is. "Oh, him? I vaguely remember him passing through here a while ago, but not to where he went. Could be somewhere around here? I'm Solras, by the way! Might I ask your name?"
She adjusts the Arcadian Harmona Gun slung around back, knowing that being this close to the Worldwound could be perhaps dangerous.
Dressed quite properly for the frontier; shining Breastplate, clean (and quite Intimidating) Earthbreaker held in one hand, casually balanced on his left shoulder, tightly packed backpack slug over his right shoulder, is seen moving among the crowded Plaza an Orc. Standing head and shoulders over most that he politely maneuvers around, smooth green skin glistening cleanly in the sun, his jet black hair carefully kept neat underneath a black bandana, the Orc circles about the Plaza.
The Orc grins at the cat. His blue eyes linger in appreciation at her choice of weaponry. Bowing at the waist, he addresses her in a strange accent.
Greetings, Solras, is it. I am Virgil Geryon. I only wanted to express my appreciation for your superb choice of weaponry. I would love to be in the front row to watch as you blast a demons horned head apart.
He smiles at his immaculately kept attire.
Prestidigitation is handy trick to know.
Turning his head to look at an olive-skinned man addressing his opposite ,Virgil nods in greeting to both.
You two could be twins.
Solras chuckles to hereself before responding to the orc, "HAHA! Prestidigitation is definitely nice. And yeah, blasting demons with firearms is what I came here from the Deadlands to do! Most of the people here are actually from Mendev, right?"
She mutters quietly to herself, in shame, a little remark, "that and to prove that I'm worthy of a beast gun"
"Sir Jorsal... I know of him, of course, but I've not met him in person." Paolo looks around at the new arrivals. He seems particularly curious about the catfolk - her kind are a somewhat rare sight here - but he doesn't let his eyes linger on her for too long. "Greetings, I am Paolo Vital, a humble hospitaller."
Avenger stomps his way through the streets. He's eager to get out to fight the incursion of evil. Still, on one level he knows that the mortals need rest to recover, so he tries to keep his annoyance to himself. Mostly.
As he comes through, he hears a snippet of conversation that sounds promising. Coming up it looks like this was the furry one with the strange staff on her back who said this.
"Blasting demons? I'm all for that. The sooner we can scrape them off of this world the better." As Paolo introduces himself, he adds, "That'll be needed. Ages ago when we fought Treerazer, we never had enough healers to keep people fighting."
Niall opens the door and calls out, "I'll see you there!" to his aunt and uncle. Armasse is always a fun time.
He makes his way to Clydwell Plaza to take part in the day's festivities. Although a young man of 25 or so, his hair has already started to turn gray...just like his father's.
After a bit of time, with various folk introducing themselves to each other, and vendors selling sweets and baked goods amongst the crowd, more and more people crowd into the plaza.
Armasse officially begins at noon, with the blessing of the festival by Lord Hulrun himself, ruler of Kenabres. The crowd gathered in Clydwell Plaza quiets as the aged inquisitor takes the stage, clad in shining, resplendent armor. He clears his throat, but just as he is about to speak, a bright light shines from the west, as if the sun were rising from the wrong direction. Hulrun’s shadow falls huge and distorted across the cathedral’s facade. A moment later, the sound of a thunderous explosion rips through the air and earth, along with a violent tremor.
To the west, the fortress known as the Kite — the location of Kenabres’s wardstone — vanishes. In its place, a brilliant plume of red fire, lightning, and smoke erupts into the heavens.
A moment later, a powerful roar accompanies a welcome sight rising from the crowd — Kenabres’s greatest guardian, the ancient silver dragon Terendelev, who had, until that moment, been attending the opening ceremony disguised as a human. Above, another form appears, as nightmarish as the dragon is breathtaking. A humanoid shape three times the size of any man, with skin coated in fire and lightning, gripping a flaming sword and whip. The creature’s identity is immediately obvious: , the Storm King of the Worldwound, has come to Kenabres!
As the ground continues to shake and disgorge demons into the streets, the dragon and the balor lord clash above. The fight is over in a few harrowing moments, as the balor cuts deep into Terendelev’s body, swooping down to strike the dragon and arresting her charge. A few more blows, and the titanic duo spiral downward toward the crowd.
The sight of the dragon smashing into the facade of the Cathedral of St. Clydwell is one no witness will ever forget. At that moment, a titanic demon erupts at the far end of the plaza, reducing several buildings to ruins as it smashes into this world. The rift it creates shoots across the plaza.
Niall scrambles out of the way of a falling statue.
Avenger of the Green desperately yanks someone out of the way of the expanding rift, saving them from the rift.
This time there is no escape — the rift opens below your feet, angling away into darkness.
Even as you fall, the dragon notices your plight. Though she saw death standing over her, she seizes this final chance to save a few more souls. After she utters a few arcane words and stretches out a bleeding talon, you feel her magic take hold of you, slowing your plummet into the darkness as if you were feathers falling into a pit. Yet the fall remains inexorable, and as you drift downward into the depths, the last thing you see is the Storm King standing before the ancient silver dragon, his sword lashing out and cleaving full through her neck. As her severed head falls, the rift above you slams shut, and the light of the world above is gone.
Your heads throb with thunderous headaches. Your ears ring. You're having
trouble breathing. After a few moments, the sounds of rocks clattering, coughing, and moans of pain, as well as the choking smell of dust, become apparent as your senses seem to return, but it remains pitch black. Feeling around in the darkness, you feel rubble all around you, and realize that your bodies are covered in dirt and filth.
Once the chaos starts, Obahi looks around to help any stragglers. Unfortunately, he is caught above the collapsing ground, and falls in. The last daylight-illuminated thing he sees is the protector of Kenabres's throat slit before they all descent into the depths.
Coughing out dust, and moving small rocks from his body, his orcish eyes quickly adapt to the darkness as he looks around the place. Fortunately, the debris did not crush any bones. At least not that he knows of.
"Everyone okay?" he screams into the dustcloud as he goes from individual to individual to see whether there are any injuries, or worse. He helps people to their feet as he does so, and attempts to usher people out of the cloud of dust.
"Did I see what I think I saw? I didn't just hit my head, right? The silver dragon with her throat slit? We need to get topside and defend the city."
"Terendelev..." Paolo whispers sadly. He had enjoyed her company - unlike most dragons, who were known for being quite condescending to humanoids, Terendelev had always treated everyone as her equal. And now she was dead...
Yet even with his eyes full of tears, Paolo acts quickly. He quickly thanks Obahi for his help, then murmurs an incantation and performs a long-practiced hand movement to create a source of light for those who need it.
Falling to the ground with a pounding headache, the first thing Sol makes sure is alright is her weapon. It's her only line of defense against anything, as her physical strength is just enough to make sure that she doesn't get knocked prone when firing the weapon.
"I... saw the same thing too. That was Terendelev?!"
Gripping her head after the pounding headache, Ana gets up to her feet and starts to head over to the other survivors. "I'm fine, besides the headache, and thank you for asking..." she would say the man's name, but she never got the kind man to say his name. She grips her trusty Harmona gun and readies to fight whatever demons fell down here if necessary.
"Obahi." the man says without emotions as he huffs, tossing another rock to the side to clear the way. "Pleasure... I realise you asked, but things got hectic."
He pauses. "But yes, I think that was the Protector. Unless there is more than one silver dragon in Kenabres. Well... Was."
He tosses aside a few more rocks to step into the corridor and look around.
As the little rooting gets up, there is a swirling of leaves around him. Thick bark armor grows around him, also forming a shield.
He sees the others standing up in good condition. He gets out a torch and lights it. "Survivors and threats, people! Call out what you find."
Obahi looks around, helps Paolo to his feet, who, in turn, casts light.
The others get to their feet in the magic light and begin looking around.
As you dust yourselves off you notice that the wall of rubble behind you contains numerous examples of how close you came to death. Here and there, bodies are mixed with the rubble — citizens of Kenabres whom the dragon could not save.
Not all of these victims perished, though. In addition there are three other survivors who were saved by the dragon’s feather fall.
A rotund man dressed in fine clothing stands, brushing himself off. "Ah, light. Good. You can proceed to help me get out of this predicament. I need to check on my warehouses as soon as possible. You may have heard of me. I am Horgus Gwerm. Quickly, now!"
A bit to the side an aged elf stumbles to his feet, his hands outstretched. It is obvious that even with the light, he cannot see. The wounds to his eyes look like they are beyond what a simple healing can help with. "I am Aravashial. I... cannot see right now. Perhaps someone can help me? If you see my staff, I would appreciate it." His staff is roughly 7 feet from him, lying on the ground, but under some rubble. It can be easily retrieved for him.
A young woman calls from the ground. "Help! Oh, damn!. That hurts." She is laying on the ground. Her leg is in what looks like a painful position.
The ceiling and far walls of this vast cavern recede into darkness. On one side, the wall has collapsed in an enormous mound of rubble—here and there the arms or legs of victims who didn’t survive the fall protrude. In the back of the cavern, a disturbing shape looms. Nearly the size of a horse, what appears to be an immense black spider crouches silent and still on the ground.
Pointedly ignoring the obviously self-important man, Paolo hurries over and fetches the elf's staff, and gingerly hands it to him. "Here you are, sir. You should come with us for protection. You can follow us by sound, or hold onto one of us, if you must."
Ignoring the man who is already being helped, and the obviously self-important rotund man blabbering about his warehouses when lives are in danger, Solras turns to the woman in pain.
"Can I help you right your leg, somehow? My eyes are still adjusting here, haha."
Aravashnial is a magic user in Kenabres.
Horgus is a wealthy aristocrat from one of the minor noble families of Kenabres
The woman's leg appears to be seriously broken. Perhaps someone could craft a brace and a crutch. She would then be able to move.
Blue eyes focused only on the epic confrontation between Khorramzadeh and Terendelev, green-skinned formed entirely transfixed in apprehension, his large hands gripping tightly his Earthbreaker, Virgil barely registered the fall.
Floating slowly and safely down underneath the Plaza, the Orc's blue eyes continued to watch the final blow. Then the darkness interrupt his sight.
Turning his silent gaze to the rubble strewn flooring, the Magus begins disseminating the vivid portrayal of events, prior to his boots touching the difficult terrain.
That was only the opener. This is big. Keep your wits and weapons about you. We are literally in the war zone now.
The Magus nods to those with whom he had only just made acquaintance. The large Orc towers over the Complaintant.
Horgus Gwerm? Never heard of you. Please if you are not injured help with finding some wood, so that I may smash it into pieces, so as to Craft a splint, or better for this poor lady.
The Orc grins.
Virgil then begins checking on both the old elf and the injure lady.
Virgil Geryon, esteemed Aravashial. Honored to make your acquaintance. You may lean on me obmnce we get moving.
Virgil then turns in the direction of injured young woman.
Your name, miss? And, as soon as we take care of our hairy interloper over yonder, I can fix you up a crutch or two.
The Magus then grabs his Earthbreaker in both hands, while Striding towards the immense black spider crouches silent and still on the ground.
Anyone want to come play?
The Magus begins voicing arcane phrase!
Niall slowly stands up coughing from the dust. He casts light to illuminate the area around him. Seeing the injured woman he moves toward her. He looks around for anything that she might use to help her move around...
Raising the shield in one hand and the torch with the other, Avenger approaches the spider creature. "One way or another, we're coming through."
The lady responds, "Virgil, I am Anevia."
Horgus harumphs, "Gathering wood. That's not my position. You there!" he points at Avenger of the Green, "You're made of wood, collect more for this orcish oaf."
Meanwhile, Niall finds some broken wood, seemingly from part of the stands from above that have fallen here, and some rope in the rubble, and, amazingly, crafts a splint that doubles as a crutch. With some help to get up, Anevia can walk, but slowly. She gathers her bow and arrows.
Aravashnial cautions about moving against anything without knowing everyone's capabilities. "Who do we have who can provide protection? Who can move fast? Any spellcasters? Who has fought demons before? Any other fearsome creatures? While I cannot see, we need to find out where we are. Niall, is it? Come here. Be my eyes. Tell me what we are facing."
As Virgil and Avenger approach the still spider, it's rank stench leads you to believe it is already dead. But, you notice two disturbing elements -- a muffled chewing sound and a bulge wriggling inside of the spider's abdomen.
Seeing as Niall already crafted a splint, Solras turns to Aravashnial before responding: "I can provide protection and firepower from a distance, if need be. I don't know if any of us can move any faster than your typical humanoid race, and I believe Paolo here" after which she points to Paolo, "is a spellcaster. I've dealt with a few threats back home in the deadshot lands, in Arcadia. I haven't fought demons but once or twice, but I came her to do exactly that."
She pauses before focusing intently on the corpse of a spider, as if questioning where to aim her Harmona Gun. "And my name is Solras Pirhatya. For the record!"
Virgil stands 15' from the stink pile of spider carcass. The Orc still mumbling arcane phrases as he seems to be waiting for something....
Prize breaking out soon. Those not willing to get blood on their lapels may wish to take cover.
Avenger keeps his shield raised. Rapidly growing a new branch, he hurls it at the spider to see what it's made of.
Seeing the crutch being set up and the blind man covered, Obahi moves between the blind or injured and the spider. "Move away if you can. That spider looks like bad news. We can talk after we deal with the immediate threat in the room. But don't go too far."
Paolo gives Horgus a stern glare. "You can come with us, but do not expect special treatment. Down here, your wealth is meaningless."
He then answers Aravashnial, "I wield divine magic. I have little doubt that we're going to need it." He watches with concern as Avenger attacks the strange spider.
Horgus seems somewhat taken aback by Paolo's comment, but replies, "You may be right, but you can get me out of here, and I can give you a reward where wealth *has* meaning."
Avenger's blast sounds strange as rotten pieces of dead spider are hit, but two maggots crawl out of the decaying corpse of the spider.
➤ Solras Pirhatya
Blue creature
Obahi
Virgil Geryon
Tan creature
Avenger of the Green
Niall
Paolo Vital
Loading her Harmona gun and staring down the closest maggot, Solras steadies her aim while trying to remain hidden. Once the best place to shoot is found, however, she fires her firearm into the maggot.
Afterwards, she moves the furthest away from the creatures she can while still being in range (within 150ft, I don't have the creature's location yet so I can't really move the token to accommodate for that).
Virgil turns his head to wink at Solras.
You're an expert at this!
Solras shoots at the Blue Creature for a serious hit. The creature strides up to Avenger of the Green, and
Not connecting, the creature
Solras Pirhatya
Blue creature
➤ Obahi
➤ Virgil Geryon
Tan creature
Avenger of the Green
Niall
Paolo Vital
DC 24 (crit success), second success by another PC, or DC 16 as second check after first success:
Virgil casts Shield, Enters his Arcane Stance, and Strides 25' closer to the Tan creature.
Seeing the thing attempting to take a bite out of the walking talking tree, Obahi moves around from the other side without uttering a word and goes for a quick one-two with his bare hands.
◆ ◆ Stride twice, ◆ Flurry of Blows
Virgil strides 25' closer to the Tan creature.
Obahi moves behind the creature. Obahi's twin strikes both hit the creature, killing it, but not before it regurgitates its stomach acids on both Obahi and Avenger of the Green.
Staring at the regurgitation, Solras chimes: "And that is a primary reason I wield firearms and crossbows!"
The regurgitation from the creature is disgusting (consisting of stomach acids and semi-digested rotting spider), but Avenger of the Green and Obahi are seemingly not affected by the slimy mess.
The tan creature steps up to Obahi, and and .
The second bite gets through Obahi's defenses and does piercing damage.
➤ Solras Pirhatya
➤ Obahi
➤ Virgil Geryon
Tan creature
➤ Avenger of the Green
➤ Niall
➤ Paolo Vital
DC 24 (crit success), second success by another PC, or DC 16 as second check after first success:
Avenger moves up to directly engage the creature and hopefully draw it away from Obahi. He makes two quick blows on the creature.
Niall picks up some rocks as he moves towards the spider. He hurls them as he speaks an incantation.
Seeing Obahi wounded, Paolo moves to him and tries to ease his wounds a bit, but his efforts don't meet with much success.
◆ Stride to Obahi
◆ Stride again if necessary; otherwise, Raise Shield
◆