Aye, I'm still lurking about. But I apologize for not joining in. To be honest I've been waiting to see if we still had a GM running things. Although I imagine if I had been speaking up as well, it would have been more encouraging.
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Asheru feels his own heart racing at the overwhelming news the Bonewright shares, despite the fact that none of it is news to him. He nods solemnly as spirits whisper in his ears, pacing about the tent as their disembodied voices wax and wane in volume to the young oracle. "They come here, first." He adds, reiterating what Bonewright had said earlier. "As he said, we must prepare, but without panic."
Asheru knods solemnly, recognizing the wisdom in the bonewright's words. "I agree, this would be better discussed away from the others" He notes the crowd that seems to be gathering in reaction to the parties arrival. He tries to offer them a reassuring smile, though he's certain the attempt falls short.
Asheru nods as the plan begins to form. He lifts the orcs greatclub from the corpse, testing the weight and pausing to listen to the spirits that cling with restless unlife to the weapon before sliding it across his back as his own. "Then camp it is. Our ancestors have given us much today. Let us hope that their favor continues."
Well played, waynemarkstubbs. Everyone loves a good montage!
Sounds great to me. Let's skirt the scouting party and make our way back with our own information (and map now, it seems)
I was picturing the party as bigger than it was, and trying to head off an attack on the human village. Rather than a scouting party to simply skirt by.
Rather than the silver and blanket, Asheru slowly trudges over to the club. It's rusted iron studs protruding like jagged orange teeth from the wood. He can sense the spirit of the orc here, screaming at him as he bends over to run his fingers along the grain of the wood. The club begins to shake, and small pebbles begin to spin and bounce. Asheru grins, feeling the fury of the orc as he traces between the iron studs. "I would like his weapon." he says with a smile, still looking down on the weapon. "Perhaps it has revenge in it."
Makes sense. And yes, I was clearly overthinking the whole situation :/
If that's true, then I've been misunderstanding as there's nothing that hastens Asheru's speed. So he's no faster than any other human would be, and possesses no spells to make that faster.
"I do not think that any of us need to die to pass this message yet." Asheru sighs, hoping to conceal his own selfishness and fear. "I say we check the orc that fell a moment ago, and see what we might quickly discover from his body, then rush back on an alternate path. We may exhaust ourselves, while the orcs cannot."
I'm just not sure I want to die just yet, at least not if I'm not certain there isn't another way that doesn't involve Asheru's self sacrifice.
"Perhaps we send one or two quickest back, while the rest of us try to slow the progress of the warband? We could take turns disrupting their sleep. Or trying to distract them from a safer distance?" He pauses for a moment, wishing that the spirits whose voices never seem to be still would provide something other than contradicting whispers and debates. "Or we could all push ourselves to return quickly. They must be ready for a fight, and must conserve energy. We would be in no condition to fight, but would get the message there."
Asheru sighs. "I am not a warrior. And the spirits remain quiet at the moment. I will trust your judgement, though I am not eager to become a spirit myself just yet."
Asheru nods solemly as Wheatbeard and Bonewright propose pursuing an off-trail route, whispering himself to the spirits about him to aid their travel and to frustrate that of the greenskins. "If that is our action. Then we must go quickly. I believe it is wise."
The shaman pauses, realizing that the likelihood of being able to speak with the orc depends on it's capacity to speak the same language. Regretfully, he retracts the option. "I'm mistaken," he admits, shrinking in stature, "I have forgotten that it is unlikely I would understand the spirit. Most spirits I encounter are those of our own kind."
"We might discover where they are going and what they are doing... it is clear they're headed toward the human lands, but this one did not wish to. I fear there may be more here than meets the eye."
"There are many ways the spirits may distract..." Asheru speaks, as if speaking to no one in particular--his eyes absently glued to the horizon. "But as they work through me, I must get much closer than I am comfortable doing." His mind seems much more present as he expresses that second thought. "If we wait, however," the shaman continues, looking to the Bonewright who is most likely to accept such a concept, "we may speak with the perished orc. His body has fallen, but his spirit lingers..."
Sad! I've really enjoyed Tupilek, both the wisdom and authority he brings to the group, as well as the sheer brute force he brings to battles.
The harsh voices in the valley have caused the bulk of the group to stop, while the scouts pursue up ahead. Asheru mumbles to himself, speaking with the voices that continue to whisper about him. Occasionally a nearby stone launches a few feet into the air as if on its own. He awkwardly looses the club from his back, nervously shifting the grip in his hand as he awaits the return of the scouts or the sound of conflict over the hill.
Likewise. You'll have to do far, far worse to get rid of us I think.
Aye, still around. It's a holiday week here in the states too, so no problems.
No worries. I'm heading to the coast this next week though. But I'll try as hard as I can to keep updated. So hopefully you won't notice any lag.
"If they're as recent as you say" Asheru says with a nod, "Then we should follow. I trust your direction, Wheatbeard."
That does seem to be the consensus.
Asheru nods, eyes narrowed, as Moklik quickly relays what he has seen. The whispering in the shaman's ears seems to be growing louder and more agitated here, making it difficult for the man to concentrate. He can feel that knot twisting in his stomach, however, as Moklik mentions the pallisade. "Perhaps we should return to Chief." Asheru proposes, already gauging that others seem to be thinking the same. "We have information that does no good if it dies with us. And the voices warn me that should we go further, we may join their ranks."
Likewise, Asheru wakes cold and disoriented. His dreams that night had been restless and disjointed. Without proper rest, he feels distanced from the spirits around him. While this, on its own, is somewhat of a welcome reprieve; it leaves him feeling rather vulnerable in the current setting. Gathering his things, he aids in extinguishing what's left of the smoldering fire. He is uncertain of what he would vote for their current path. On one hand, the greater the information they can bring back, the more useful it will be to their people--and it seems that some valuable information is almost within reach. On the other, however, is the fear of what they may find and whether they can handle it or not. Even disconnected from the spirits that guid him, however, it slowly becomes clear what the ancestors ask of him. "I believe we should follow as well, as I think there is much more we must know before returning." He sighs.
Asheru nods at Tupilek's words, the spirits about him now fleeting and the chill of water soaking through his furs beginning to set in. "If they are on the move, places they've already past seem to be safest." He's quiet for a moment, before continuing. "That collar it wore... it was iron as well, wasn't it?" The question was rhetorical, but heavy. The orc's use of the metal is apparently quite extensive.
I have a suspicion as well that the troll escaped, and they're looking for him. But that could easily not be the case. And even if it is, upon finding him, they will be aware of the struggle even if they can't readily see tracks leading to us and may decide to look into it. None of the options look good, but sneak attacking that size of a group seems especially foolish without some sort of assistance or trick. A bottle neck might work, or a way to split them up, or even turning a troll upon them if such a thing is possible.
A familiar voice is a welcome one, as Asheru is more accustomed to distant voices he's never met. "I don't believe we have the time to run." He whispers back, though still debating the prospect himself. "We should hide first. They'll find their fallen monster, and seek us. But it will give us more time to decide." The words, while decisive, lift in pitch at the end as if an inquiry. With that decision, the other whispers again begin to increase in volume around the shaman, as if growing closer. Tree limbs begin to rattle as the shaman chants and weaves the spirits about him into a more physical form. At the crescendo of the disembodied voices, a gust of wind whips through the copse, shivering the branches; and in the space before Asheru the falling rain seems to ricochet and splash upon a figure unseen. "Cover our tracks." Asheru speaks. "Take this branch and rake it through our paths and footfalls." The broken limb is lifted into the air, and goes about distorting the muddy footprints and folded grass.
Asheru's heart sinks into his stomache as he notices the collar about the beast's neck. A knot wells up in his throat, even as the winds about him push and pull at him to return to the copse of trees. He has no idea if the creature escaped from its captors, or was sent off to seek prey. His suspicion is the first, which tugs at his soul while the spirits pull at his body. He wonders, for a moment, if the horrible tales of such creatures are true. Even as he does so, however, he heeds Moklik's advice - retreating back to the trees for cover.
Attempting to hide in the trees, he notices the trampled ground surrounding the troll, and the footprints that trace through the mud to where he is hiding. His mind reels. GM:
As the beast flails in the downpour, flinging rain and mud with it's massive claws, the fear continues to well and swirl within Asheru's gut. His legs, however, charged by an unseen force continue to pump through the mud. He continues his circle around the creature, before crashing into the flank opposite Moklik. His massive club crashing toward the beast's leg, and creating it's own arc of waterspray.
No problem. Still here when things calm down.
Asheru peers through the rain at the elven princess. His mouth slightly open, and squinting to see through the water that streams down his face. Another flash of lightning, and the sound of his companions struggling with the massive creature pull Asheru from his shock. Something else pulls him even deeper. The wind howls through the grouping of trees, as Asheru feels the blood within him begin to heat and churn. His muscled are compelled forward, trudging quickly through the mud. He doesn't rush the creature, but begins to circle it, with a loose grip on his great club and the distant sound of shouting carried on the wind in his wake. Whatever force drives him forward is not forcing him, but compelling him with such ferocity that he craves it. The weight of his club feeling more and more comfortable, and every step forward like scratching an itch.
Initiative:
Ha, no worries. Work stuff catches ya sometimes.
"The sound will only continue for a few seconds more. Now would be our chance." The shaman whispers. He then creeps carefully into the center of the others, pleading underneath his breath with the ancestors that empower him. Another gust of wind whips through the copse, sending horizontal sheets of rain and swirling about the group and lifting Asheru's soggy mane twisting into the air as if caught in a funnel. Those around him feel a light tug at their arms and spirits, as if a guiding force were directing them.
The shaman's eyes grow wider as he hears the Bonewright utter those words. He can feel the beating of his heart in his throat, and buckles slightly to keep from throwing up. Instead, he spits as if the action should satisfy the sickness welling within him. "What do we do?" He whispers, looking to the others with white eyes, trying to be heard over the echoing of the rain pelting the trees, and the reverberating thunder claps. "Do we extinguish the fire? Do we hide...?" His last word is cut off as he fights to hold back the bile crawling up his throat. There's another wild pop in the fire, spraying embers into the air accompanied by a distant whispering. With the next crack of lightning, Asheru is standing tall; no longer white-knuckling the greatclub in his hands, but gripping it with a calm confidence as rainfall collects and funnels down the veins of the weapon. "I can direct it." He says. The voice louder, yet somehow distant. "We can guide the creature. Confuse it with where we are. Control first actions. But we must stay downwind, so our scent doesn't conflict with the sounds." As the shaman speaks, the muffled sounds of laughter can be heard faintly on the wind.
After waking the others, Asheru slides his greatclub free of its sling. The rain has made the wood slippery, so he does his best to dry the handle on the clothing hidden beneath his furs. The whispering begins to grow louder around him, and the fire nearby pops loudly, sending sparks that spiral into the air to dance for far longer than the storm should permit. Drips of water stream down the shamans face, which he wipes free from his eyes with a forearm. He is unable to see the beast Moklik described, but is prepared when he does to call his ancestors for aid. "Stay close." he mutters to the rest.
Asheru nods silently, eyes wide with apprehension. He's never certain if the noises he hears are figments or reality, but Moklik's swift reaction solidified the presence of the low rumble he had heard carried through the storm. The shaman rises from the fire and sludges through the muddy ground as quickly as he is able to rouse the others. He seeks out the dwarf first, who seems to have a greater knowledge of the natural world. Upon waking him, Asheru brushes the wet hair from his own eyes, and holds a finger to his lips. He slides his finger back to tap his ear lobe. "Listen" he whispers to Wheatbeard "and ready yourself." He then trudges on to wake the others, urging them towards silent preparation as well.
Oops, you're right. I still think wheatbeard can make better use of it.
Wheatbeard would be a great choice. Asheru can't use it as he can only use simple weapons.
Fantastic! I assumed it was really bone, and hoping for a chance to switch it to something without the penalty or fragile aspect. Thanks.
As the winds and the rains build, Asheru tries to help build windbreaks using the spare clothing. It is one step back for every two steps forward however, as knots unravel themselves and treelimbs snap and bow shortly after he's affixed them. He soon tires of the trivialty, and resigns from the attempt. The rain is welcome as it washes away so much of the sweat and soot of the past week. However, the water soaking through their layers will bite at their skin beneath as temperatures drop with the sun. Recognizing this, Asheru searches for discarded limbs of bonewood that have been shielded enough by the copse of tree to be usable as firewood.
The can cast Guidance as a free action 3x/day. Guidance is a simple spell that provides a +1 competance roll on a single attack roll, saving throw, or skill check of your choice. Also, I'm confused on the Bonewood great clubs referenced here. I love the lore, but am curious if the greatclub Asheru has is bonewood, which would be better than actual bone I believe.
@Moklik - Druid sounds like a fun option. There's some shaman options that give you aspects of certain animals too. Also, if you haven't totally dismissed barbarian yet, look into the Animal Fury rage power. It only takes a dip of 2 levels into barbarian to get it, which will give you the rage ability and barb. HP as well. The Animal Fury power could be pretty handy since it adds an additional attack (albeit at a penalty if grouped with other attacks, but doesn't hinder those other attacks at all). It's also a golden ability if you pursue grapples, since it a)gives you a bonus to grapple manuevers; as well as b)provides continual additional attacks through the grapples. There's a thread that explains how, as a grapple-minded barbarian with animal fury, you can get 6 attacks in a round, almost all of which at full BAB. On another note, people still need to grab those last 2 Peryton Bracers. Asheru also has 'Guidance' as an orison spell. It's not a free action, but during skill checks with preperation you're welcome to request it, or even assume it. He'd be pretty liberal in trying to help.
Also, as I'm going through the character sheet, I've noticed a couple discrepancies: 1) Lowered Asheru's HP from 19 to 18. Oracles receive 1d8: Full base (8) plus con bonus (+1) plus toughness (+3) Half plus one @ lvl 2 (+5) plus con bonus (+1) edit: +1 for favored class fixed 2) Raised spells per day. 4 lvl 1 spells is the base an oracle may cast at lvl 2, +1 for charisma bonus spells. 3) At lvl 2 Asheru requested permission to replace Divine Favor with Bless, which was granted. It is now reflected on the sheet.
Asheru seems different as they travel, more present than previously. He continues to get lost in his visions, startled at times by things only he sees, or memories he never lived. But the voices about him seem more focused now. Occasionally , as the group walks, stray pebbles and sticks pop into the air or begin to spin and dance as if brought to life, only to fall lifeless again after Asheru has passed. His matted hair and fur lined armor, as well as the light falling rain, swirl about in breezes unfelt by others. There is even a moment where the spring grass beside him seems to lie flat against the ground and spring back as if pressed beneath the footsteps of something unseen. The warmer weather is welcome in many ways, but quite uncomfortable in many others. His armor sticks to his back as the trek causes the shaman to sweat, and strands of his hair and beard cling to his face.
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